#crowsquirrel

Redraw of my Crowsquirrel art from 2020! The original was semi-based on @malkumtend's Crowsquirrel fanfic, so I hope you like this redraw of it ☺️

Original under the cut and them by themselves v

It was still raining.

Squirrelpaw lay at the mouth of the makeshift medicine den, her chin resting on her forepaws. She watched as the rain hissed relentlessly against the grime that had quickly become the new earth of Thunderclan. It hadn’t stopped since the previous day. From sunhigh to moonhigh, not that she’d seen either behind the darkness overhead, the clouds had spat out the unforgiving downpour.

Squirrelpaw was tired of the rain. She was tired of the mud caking her paws. She was tired of the wet, rotten smell of the dying forest. And she was tired of sitting in this hole like a helpless kitten.

She was just… tired.

She sighed, half-heartedly getting to her paws, stretching away the rigid tension in her legs, and padded to the other side of the den. What good would it do her to watch the miserable weather for another day? 

A bitter scoff rumbled in her throat. Who was she kidding? What good was she doing in the first place?

She wanted, so badly, to be out in the forest. It didn’t matter what she was doing; anything was better than just taking up space while Cinderpelt and Leafpaw did actual work. Ever since Shrewpaw had recovered from his injury, the medicine den had become silent and grave as Cinderpelt focused her time on…

Squirrelpaw fought to avert her gaze from the two kits weakly mewling beside their mother, desperate for an end to the pain they couldn’t understand. Ferncloud lay beside them, her body growing thinner by the day, her eyes tired and lost, softly pleading for them to sup on the burnet and chamomile the medicine cats had chewed up for them. Birchkit, hazily, managed to take in the herbs, but Hollykit could not find the strength to leave the warmth of her mother’s belly. Ferncloud

Squirrelpaw’s heart ached with admiration. Even though Ferncloud had already lost Larchkit and had every right to grieve them, she was forcing herself to be strong for her kits. Squirrelpaw wanted to help her, but… She cringed as the memory of Ferncloud’s cold, accusing glare stung her like a thorn. 

Ferncloud, as well as many of her other clanmates, still did not forgive her for abandoning ThunderClan. She’d already heard all of their theories in spiteful whispers.

They ran off so they could eat well before leaf-bare came! 

Interesting how the twolegs came not long after they disappeared? Do you think they were warned by one of the other clan-cats and ran off to save themselves?

I heard she wasn’t even supposed to be there! Typical spoiled kit, caring more about herself than her actual clan!

Bet she expected to be treated like some kind of hero when she came back! Tch! I can only imagine how disappointed Firestar must be!

Would he really expect much better from her at this point?

Brambleclaw had heard just as much.After the first time, when he’d found her trembling with haunted despair, he’d sighed, rested his tail on her shoulder, and told her, a similar pain evident in his voice, to pay their words no mind. That there was no chance her clanmates meant their cruel words. They were just angry, hurt, and scared, looking for someone to blame. Squirrelpaw had believed him; he’d been on the end of such suspicions before, after all. So she’d done her best to swallow down the hurt and look her sceptical clanmates in the eyes.

Only for them to break away from hers with dull contempt.

Whatever help she could offer, they did not want it. And it was clear there was nothing she could do to change that. For now, at least.

So she kept her eyes and her intrusive presence locked away from Ferncloud’s struggle. Maybe that was all her clan wanted from her. To just stay out of their way.

A jolt shook through her pelt, and her claws clenched with a furious growl. What was she doing? Her clanmates were wrong, so what reason did she have to be upset about it? Brambleclaw was right; they were hurt, rightfully so, but she had to believe that it wouldn’t last forever. That was why she had gone on the journey, to find out how she could help her clan! And they’d found the reason!

All that was left was to change a few stubborn minds, and soon the clans would be on their way to a new home! Then they would all see why she and her friends had done what they had! She had to believe, no, she had to know, that something better was at the end of their path!

Her heart thundering in her ears, she headed over to the medicine piles, scanning the leaves and herbs for anything that looked out of place. Even if it was a small - practically worthless - support, it still beat waiting for the worst to happen. 

She had just begun to sniff the nearest pile when she heard her sister’s amused purr.

“You know, you’ve already sorted those leaves three times, right?”

Squirrelpaw looked down; her paw was lazily hovering over the clumsily stacked blackberry leaves. She sighed, “You can’t be too careful, right? Maybe I mixed one of the laurel leaves into the pile?”

Leafpaw’s tail swayed softly. She carried spare burnet in her mouth, stopping to lay it back carefully into its pile. “You should trust your judgement more. Besides,” she nudged her sister playfully, “I wouldn’t have let that happen.”

Squirrelpaw chuckled. Her eyes drifted slightly to the other side of the den. “How are they?”

Leafpaw’s head dipped. “Birchkit is beginning to eat more, so he should be able to keep his strength.”

Squirrelpaw saw the way her sister’s back fur flattened. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “And Hollykit?”

Her sister looked at her gently, but she said nothing.

They both found themselves glancing back. Birchkit was finally asleep against his mother, while Hollykit’s small eyes blinked slowly, not seeming to even feel the soft groom of Ferncloud’s tongue. Their mother’s jaw looked tight, and her face was creased with hopelessness. Her tail wrapped around her kits as she tried to lull Hollykit into the peaceful quiet of sleep.

Squirrelpaw looked away, her breath leaving her teeth in a small pant.

“Until Ferncloud starts producing more milk…” Squirrelpaw’s shoulders trembled, and Leafpaw’s voice trailed off. “We’ve done what we can.”

“I know you have.”

“Squirrelpaw…” A paw gently touched the ginger cat’s side.

The apprentice’s gaze rose sharply. Her green eyes glinted with frustration. “We can’t keep waiting like this.”

Leafpaw’s eyes widened. “I thought you didn’t want to leave without Riverclan and Shadowclan?”

Squirrelpaw groaned, “That’s not what I’m saying! I know we can’t leave without them!” The very thought made Squirrelpaw feel ill, “I’m just tired of all of this! Leopardstar and Blackstar are acting like fox-hearts!”

“Maybe Firestar can change their minds?” Their father had taken Brambleclaw with him to speak to Leopardstar. Squirrelpaw had wanted to go as well - she’d gone on the journey as well after all, she knew just as well as Brambleclaw what it meant! They’d even taken Ashfur with them in case Riverclan became hostile. Why was she the one forced to stay behind? She thought her father had understood that when he’d allowed her to come to the gathering. But Firestar had firmly told her that since Leopardstar didn’t seem to be convinced by the reasons for the journey in the first place, it was better to just have one of their group with him. They didn’t want to make it look like it was some kind of plot.

Squirrelpaw had argued, of course, and turned to Brambleclaw for help. But her friend had taken one look at Firestar’s unmoved frown and only gave her a shaky apology in reply.

As if Squirrelpaw didn’t know what Firestar’s issue really was.

Why doesn’t he want me and Brambleclaw to work together? She knew Firestar was still angry about how she had left without saying anything, but it couldn’t just be because of that.

Her paws irritably scuffed the den floor. She knew she couldn’t blame Brambleclaw too much. As much as she was on thin ice with her father, she understood Brambleclaw was under more immense pressure. He had been the warrior after all, she remembered, rolling her eyes. He’d been the one responsible for her.

Still, it hurt that he hadn’t spoken up for her.

She exhaled thinly. Even if she deserved to be there, she supposed she wouldn’t have been much help, not with Leopardstar.

“I doubt it. All they care about is themselves.”

“Well,” Leafpaw shuffled closer, “You can’t just expect them to be happy about the idea of abandoning their homes for another clan.”

“For another clan?” Squirrelpaw had to fight to keep her voice down, “The twolegs and their monsters affect all of us! Fourtrees was ripped from its roots, for the love of Starclan!”

Leafpaw gave her sister a sympathetic stare, “I know that. But you already heard what they said. The twolegs aren’t affecting their territory right now. So what reason do they have to be concerned?”

Squirrelpaw knew all this. She’d already argued it herself after all. But the truth was that she had started to care less and less about whatever reasons they had. They were wrong, and it was just prolonging the agony for everyone else. She was sure of that.

She grunted and began to lick her shoulder. Sometimes she really wished Leafpaw wasn’t so level-headed. “It just seems so selfish.”

“They probably think the same of us.”

Squirrelpaw bit back her scoff, “Yeah? Well,” Her eyes darkened, “We’re not the ones withholding water from another clan.”

At that, Squirrelpaw saw her sister look down, her tail twitching with discomfort. Squirrelpaw sniffed, not too proud of the satisfaction she felt for making her point, as a deep pool of anger soon washed it away.

Her stomach coiled as the memories of the gathering flickered across like furious embers. 

Her father’s desperate calls for reason.

Tallstar, weak and exhausted, seemingly disoriented with panic. 

Stormfur’s usually strong expression creased with unmistakable fear. 

Leopardstar, stiff and uncaring, only moved by the words of that-

Two icy blue eyes flashed in the darkness of that night. Squirrelpaw remembered the satisfied way they had narrowed as the other clans scrambled for peace and logic. She had seen the sneer that grew slyly across that foxlike face, and re-heard his call for the clans to leave their territory for Riverclan to take.

Squirrelpaw’s teeth clenched, and her breathing began to grow heavy. A low growl rolled in her throat as she saw that smug grin burn over her sight.

A kind tongue stroked her ear, a soft purr against her side, and a tail lightly flicked against her back. Squirrelpaw’s heart began to steady, and her fur settled back as her sister smoothed the spot between her ears. Slowly, her focus drifted away from those dark echoes and back towards the tranquillity of Leafpaw’s warmth.

A quiet and embarrassed guilt stung Squirrelpaw’s pelt. Leafpaw didn’t need this. She had enough on her paws already. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be mouse-brained,” Leafpaw mewed, “I understand.” She stopped grooming her sister’s fur and leaned delicately against her side. “You’re thinking of your friends, aren’t you?”

Squirrelpaw murmured faintly.

“You don’t need to hide it from me, you know?” Leafpaw’s expression hardened, “You were away for moons after all. Of course, you’d all become close. That’s not disloyalty. Any cat that thinks that needs to stop eating rotten kill.”

Squirrelpaw laughed, “Thanks, but it’s not that. I’m just worried about them.”

Leafpaw nodded, but let her sister carry on.

“I mean… I can deal with all of that. I have enough cats here that know that leaving is the right thing to do, like you, Dad, and Brambleclaw. But for the others,” Squirrelpaw let out a soft breath, “I just hope they’re all okay. Tawnypelt is dealing with Blackstar of all cats. Stormfur lost his sister and is trying to convince Leopardstar not to listen to that…” She bit her tongue and tried to swallow down her temper.

Leafpaw sensed the tension and nudged her sister to continue, “And what about that Windclan cat?”

Squirrelpaw’s gut clenched, “Crowpaw… Well, we all know that Windclan are ready to leave. So, he managed to convince the cats that matter.”

“That’s good!”

“But we all heard how badly Windclan has been affected by the monsters. He’s more desperate than any of us to get out of the forest!” Her whiskers shivered as the gathering forced another unwanted vision into her mind. Crowpaw’s thin frame, his cold eyes, and his colder words. She saw how he walked away from her attempts at comfort so easily, as if she and the others were just rogues. “I’m… scared for him.”

That caught Leafpaw’s attention. “Scared?”

Squirrelpaw nodded, “Yeah. I’m scared he’s trying to push us all away. During the journey, we all knew we could rely on each other. But now that it’s over, I’m scared Crowpaw will think he can’t trust us anymore.”

Words burned into her with a scalding clarity. Those final, furious, hurt words that echoed her foolishness.

She’d be ashamed of you!

The apprentice’s gaze fell to her paws, shame burning her pelt. Her voice became small, “I wouldn’t blame him too much for that.”

Leafpaw gave a confused meow, “What do you mean?”

Squirrelpaw blinked quickly and straightened up. “It’s nothing. We just both said some mouse-brained things to each other the last time we spoke.” She turned back to her sister with a firm smile. “I’m sure we’ll make up!”

Leafpaw’s concerned expression felt as if she could sense her sister’s doubt. That dark possibility whose whispers Squirrelpaw was determined to silence. But thankfully, her sister’s perception also meant she knew when to drop a topic.

Or maybe she could see the fear in Squirrelpaw’s eyes.

Whatever the reason, Leafpaw purred soothingly against her. “I’m sure you will, too.”

Squirrelpaw mewed thankfully, “What about you? How are you holding up?” 

“Well,” Leafpaw rubbed her left ear, “Ever since Shrewpaw’s leg healed, my ears have finally stopped aching.”

Squirrelpaw covered her mouth to suppress her laughter, “I’m serious!” 

“Believe me, so am I.” Leafpaw smiled brightly as her sister giggled, then she sighed, and the light dimmed. “It hasn’t been easy at times. When the monsters first came, I was so focused on trying to make sure we had enough herbs in case the worst happened. Cinderpelt was trying to keep in contact with the other medicine cats, just to make sure we all know what we have, so we can trade if needs be.”

A small hope glittered in Squirrelpaw’s chest. “And?”

Leafpaw shrugged, “It’s been a while since I last heard. Maybe just before you met with the other clans. Now that we know we’re leaving soon…”

The hope faded, “You think Cinderpelt might not be as willing to share?”

Leafpaw’s eyes blazed, “I didn’t say that! She isn’t so cruel!” 

Squirrelpaw apologised quickly, but she didn’t think Cinderpelt would do it out of cruelty. In the end, Cinderpelt’s duty was to ThunderClan first and foremost, especially if it came to the kits.

Leafpaw’s temper cooled as swiftly as it had flared, “It’s just… After what happened to Larchkit…” She looked back to where Ferncloud lay, her tail fur prickling as a trembling breath escaped her, “We can’t let that happen again.”

Squirrelpaw wrapped her tail around her sister’s back, “You said it yourself, you’ve done as much as you can.”

“This time at least.” A disgusted scowl crossed Leafpaw’s face. Squirrelpaw knew where it was directed.

“Leafpaw, no cat could have predicted the monsters coming here! There wasn’t anything that could have been done to prepare for it!”

“What about Dappletail? If we’d been able to stop her before she-”

Squirrelpaw interjected quickly; she’d already heard about what had happened to Dappletail. “That was the Twolegs fault! They poisoned Windclan’s prey! How could you possibly have prevented that?” She’d already heard about how Leafpaw and Cinderpelt had tried to warn her off eating the prey. Even Firestar had tried to stop her!

“Maybe if we’d convinced her to eat some yarrow leaves, or something-” Leafpaw’s voice quivered as she spoke; it didn’t sound like she believed her own words. “Maybe she might have pulled through!”

“Dappletail was an elder,” Squirrelpaw said gingerly, “And she was starving. Even worse than the strongest warriors. I’m sorry it happened, but you can’t blame yourself for it.”

Leafpaw didn’t reply; she just looked at the herbs, as if trapped in her thoughts.

Squirrelpaw gave her sister’s shoulder a tender lick, “Leafpaw, you’re the smartest cat I know. But you’re a medicine cat. You know… You aren’t going to save everyone.”

Her sister kept still as Squirrelpaw continued to groom her. “Maybe not,” she eventually said, her voice hollow. “But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t have done more.”

Heartache pounded inside of Squirrelpaw.

Her tongue wobbled, ready with desperate, pleading words, aching to comfort Leafpaw. But then they heard a steady approach from outside the medicine den. Two faces peered in, one that Squirrelpaw immediately recognised with glee.

“Stormfur!”

The grey tom purred to where she sat, then he turned to Cinderpelt, “May we come in?”

Cinderpelt nodded at him, gently stepping away from her patients, “Of course.”

Stormfur smiled thankfully, then strolled in. Behind him, a large, golden-coloured molly followed, glancing around the den uneasily. Then her amber eyes found Squirrelpaw’s direction, and they brightened instantly. Squirrelpaw was about to mrrow with confusion when she heard her sister’s soft mew.

“Mothwing!”

Squirrelpaw looked to her side, surprised. Leafpaw’s ears were perked to attention, her fur tingling slightly as she met the fond stare of the molly. Squirrelpaw watched her swiftly get up to brush pelts with Mothwing, and felt the relief sweep over her fur. She and Stormfur did the same, and Squirrelpaw realised happily that he didn’t feel as cold as he had at the last gathering.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“Leopardstar refused to let Mothwing leave without an escort. Usually she’d ask Hawkfrost, but he was talking to your father when we left.” Both Stormfur and Squirrelpaw cringed bitterly at the mention of the Riverclan ‘deputy’, but it was quickly forgotten.

“So Firestar’s managed to speak with Leopardstar?”

“It was just Hawkfrost when I left, but I overheard Firestar insisting on speaking to her. He didn’t sound like he was in the mood to argue.”

The ginger cat growled, annoyed. Who was Hawkfrost to intrude on business between leaders? “Was Brambleclaw still with him?”

“Yeah, he didn’t sound too happy about it either.”

“I don’t blame him,” she remembered how Hawkfrost had gotten Brambleclaw scolded at the gathering, “Do you think Leopardstar will speak with them?”

Stormfur tensed, his tail lashing as if he were trying to bat away an overeager kit, “I think so. When I said I could accompany Mothwing instead, she didn’t really pay too much attention.”

Squirrelpaw’s brow raised, “I thought you said she was still suspicious of ThunderClan?”

“She is,” Stormfur looked to his side, his eyes flickering with worry, “She just doesn’t care that much right now.”

Before Squirrelpaw could ask what that meant, she felt her sister’s pelt brush her side again, “Mothwing! This is my sister, Squirrelpaw.”

Squirrelpaw’s fur prickled, suddenly flustered by the pride in Leafpaw’s voice. When she turned, she was taken aback by the sheer elation that had come over her sister. The weight of her self-presumed blame was only evident by the weary slight of her smile, which only Squirrelpaw felt she could spot. All else had been shaken away, refound by a clear stream of bliss. 

When she’d first heard that her sister had made friends with another medicine cat, she had been thrilled. Leafpaw was an amazing cat; she was kind, smart, keen, and all of the clan knew it - to the point that Squirrelpaw knew they had been comparing the two daughters, but she refused to dwell on that right now. 

She also knew that despite all that, Leafpaw had also struggled to really bond with the other apprentices. Not that they tried to leave her out, but there was only so much talk about the different ways to make a poultice they could take before Leafpaw found out their polite smiles looked more strained. Even Squirrelpaw, though she wasn’t proud to admit it, had found it hard to concentrate on her sister’s impassioned explanations.

Leafpaw needed a friend who truly got her, not just the wonderful cat she was at heart, but who could truly engage with her interests! That was why Squirrelpaw had been so delighted when she’d heard about Mothwing. And it looked like their bond was as tight as Squirrelpaw had hoped! Leafpaw’s eyes were darting between the two cats with ecstatic vigour, as if she were (not-so) secretly praying to Starclan that the two would become friends too.

A thought burst abruptly into Squirrelpaw’s mind. The instantaneous inkling that she needed to make an impression.

Then another thought intruded.

That this was Hawkfrost’s sister.

That thought made a chill crawl down her spine. 

She remembered what Stormfur had said. That it had been that rogue snake-heart that had accused Windclan of stealing. 

He was why their clan was suffering even worse than they could be! He was the one turning Leopardstar away from seeing sense and joining the other clans! He was the one smirking and strutting around while the other clans scrambled for safety!

He had called Stormfur a traitor for being a part of their journey. Had made it seem like their task was just some pointless game. As if Feathertail had-

‘Hold on, I think Mothwing told me how to treat this!’

The simmer in Squirrelpaw’s throat died as she remembered those words. She thought back to moons ago, and saw Feathertail gently treating Crowpaw’s wounds from their fight with the kittypets in the two-leg place. How she had been muttering instructions along as she’d dressed his cuts, never second-guessing them even as Crowpaw had hissed his displeasure.

Clearly, Feathertail had trusted Mothwing’s words enough.

Squirrelpaw bit her lip, discomfort crawling over her pelt. She looked up to where Leafpaw was still sweeping the large Molly with innocent, happy glances, to Stormfur, who had offered to escort the cat, even after her brother had treated him so harshly. Squirrelpaw’s tail curled in close to her belly, suddenly aware of how silly she felt.

Even if her brother was a fox-heart, that didn’t mean that Mothwing was the same. Squirrelpaw knew well enough that just because a cat was tied to one that had done wrong, it didn’t mean the same of them. She had travelled long enough with Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt; she felt she should have understood that instantly.

Besides, she trusted Leafpaw and Stormfur’s judgment. Feathertail’s too.

How bad could a cat be when they made her sister look that happy?

Giving her pelt a subtle shake, Squirrelpaw found the Riverclan cat’s gaze and tried to offer her most inviting smile. “Hello!”

Mothwing gave a mew of recognition and dipped her head respectfully. “It’s nice to meet you.” When she looked back up, she had turned to Cinderpelt, “I’m sorry, but we can’t stay long. We need help.”

Cinderpelt took a step closer, “What is it?”

“It’s Mudfur; he’s been having stomach pains since moonhigh.” Mothwing explained, her tone was level, but her nose twitched with every word. “We’re running low on herbs, so I was hoping you might be able to spare some.”

Both Squirrelpaw and Leafpaw gasped with horror. “No!” The medicine cat apprentice mewled. It was terrible enough when it was a warrior that was sick, let alone their seasoned medicine cat.

Cinderpelt grimaced, but whipped her tail with such force that it made the apprentices quell their words. “Have any of your Warriors been catching prey from other clans?”

Stormfur shook his head, “No. Leopardstar knows what’s been happening in Windclan; she’s forbidden any prey outside of Riverclan’s borders to touch the fresh-kill pile.”

Leafpaw let out a sigh of relief.

Cinderpelt nodded, but she didn’t look assured. “Has he been sick?”

“Yes,” Stormfur said.

“Did any cat see blood in it?”

Mothwing inhaled tightly, “Yes.”

Leafpaw’s eyes bulged wide, and Cinderpelt’s eyes narrowed. “That sounds like poisoning.”

“But Riverclan’s prey isn’t poisoned?” Squirrelpaw exclaimed.

 The medicine den was gripped by a horrible quiet.

Squirrelpaw could sense the cold realisation taking over, “Right?”

Mothwing and Stormfur looked at each other, their jaws dropping in terror. “It can’t be!” The golden cat stammered.

“No other cat has been ill!” Stormfur meowed.

“And not every Windclan cat is ill either,” Cinderpelt snapped, already walking towards the medicine piles, “That doesn’t mean that their cats haven’t died! We’ll need yarrow! Do you have any Feverfew?”

The breath seemed to have been shocked out of Mothwing’s body, “Uh-Y-Yes!”

“Good! If it’s poisoning, we’ll need to make sure his temperature stays low after he’s vomited out the toxins!” She turned to Stormfur and meowed sharply, “You grab the yarrow, I’ll bring some coltsfoot in case he begins to have trouble breathing! Leafpaw, can you stay here and watch over Ferncloud while I’m gone?”

Leafpaw drew back as if she had been attacked. She looked back at the queen and her kits, and her face became stiff with alarm. Squirrelpaw’s ears went flat against her skull, sympathy making her throat tighten.

“A-Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Leafpaw asked.

Squirrelpaw saw Cinderpelt’s tail sway thoughtfully, but the medicine cat didn’t pause as she gathered the coltsfoot. “We don’t have any other choice. If Mudfur’s poisoned, he needs medicine as soon as possible!”

“But-”

“I’m sorry, Leafpaw. But I have to go.” Leafpaw flinched at the inflexible tone in her mentor’s voice. Cinderpelt watched, her shoulders slacking slightly, and warmth crept back into her face. “It’ll be fine. Ferncloud needs to get some rest if we want her to get her strength back. So I just need you to make sure the kits stay asleep, so she knows she doesn’t need to worry. That’s all.”

Leafpaw let out an unconvinced whine, “How long will you be gone?”

“I’ll be as soon as I can, I promise.” When her apprentice didn’t smile back, she added with a tender meow, “It’ll be fine, I trust you.”

When Leafpaw still exhaled uneasily, Squirrelpaw padded close to press her warm pelt against hers, “You’ve got this.”

The medicine cat apprentice blinked slowly and looked up, finding Squirrelpaw and Cinderpelt’s kind eyes looking at her with unmistakable belief. She glanced back at the den’s patients, all sound asleep, her deep breaths gradually settling down. Then she looked at Mothwing, whose whole face seemed to be shadowed by a storm of fright, and her expression hardened.

She straightened up, brushing her face roughly with a paw. “Okay!”

Squirrelpaw beamed, patting her sister’s back with her tail. Cinderpelt nodded, a proud flash in her eyes, then turned to the Riverclan cats. “Let’s hurry!” Stormfur and Mothwing both meowed their agreement, rushing to gather up the ordered herbs. Stormfur pressed his side quickly against Squirrelpaw’s before hurrying out of the den, while Mothwing stopped to cast Leafpaw a thankful glimpse as she followed behind.

Squirrelpaw purred with an exhilarated pride, ready to praise her sister with a toothy grin. But Leafpaw had already got to her paws, ready to head back to Ferncloud’s nest. Already, there was a thick resolve set in her expression. Squirrelpaw’s fur bristled, her own worries beginning to slip away. Cinderpelt wasn’t going to let the other clans suffer, and her sister wasn’t just going to give up without a fight!

However, she knew this was still only the beginning. Cats had suffered and were still suffering. She watched her sister pad back to Ferncloud and her kits, and that fact sat like a stone in her gut. She had to believe in them all; she knew that, but she also knew that she had to be patient with them. They deserved that much respect.

Leafpaw’s ears flicked as she heard her sister get up, “Are you staying?”

“No, I don’t want to distract you.” Squirrelpaw grinned at her, “You’ve got a job to do, and you don’t need me keeping you from that.”

“Where are you going?”

Squirrelpaw shrugged, “Not sure yet. Guess I’ll figure it out when a cat asks for help.”

“But it’s still raining.”

“So what, a little rain never hurt any cat. Shrewpaw and Whiepaw are both out there hunting in it. No reason I can’t, too.” Squirrelpaw raised her paw to her chest with mock offence, “Unless you think I’m a bigger mewler than Shrewpaw, Leafpaw? Really now, and here I thought we were friends!”

Leafpaw scoffed, but her whiskers drooped, clearly not convinced.

Squirrelpaw chuckled, but at her sister’s stoic silence, her face slowly fell. Her eyes glazed over to the floor when she saw Ferncloud enter her vision once more. “It’s like Cinderpelt said, she needs her sleep. She shouldn’t be… disturbed.”

The sisters stared at each other.

Squirrelpaw looked away first, but she kept her tone bright, “It’s alright. You know me, my legs were starting to tingle from sitting down here for so long. Who knows? Maybe somecat wants to try hunting! If we get lucky, I’ll make sure to bring back a mouse for both you and Ferncloud!”

Leafpaw did her best to laugh, but whether it was out of amusement or concern, Squirrelpaw didn’t pause to think about it. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She blinked slowly at her sister, “Just don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

Squirrelpaw waved her tail dismissively, but she mewed back affectionately, “Not if I can help it!”

“I mean it.”

And because Squirrelpaw knew, from the low gravity that brushed across the den like a leaf-bare gale, she paused and looked back. Leafpaw didn’t flinch, sympathy, anxiety, and love all burning in her stare. 

“We need you too, you know.” Leafpaw said, “All of us.”

The words pressed warm paws against Squirrelpaw’s heart.

She let out a quiet laugh, and she thought she could hear the sound of dry leaves cracking within it, but before she could say anything, she heard an angry cry echo from outside the den.

She recognised the voice.

“That’s Dustpelt!”

Leafpaw gasped, “He must have seen Cinderpelt leaving!” She whipped to her patients and saw Ferncloud murmur uncomfortably. “Oh no! They all just got to sleep! If he comes in here and starts shouting…” Her lips began to quiver, and she began to blink quickly, her breathing becoming increasingly shallow.

Squirrelpaw’s paws tensed. No way! Leafpaw told Cinderpelt she’d look after Ferncloud and, by Starclan, that’s exactly what she’s going to do!

Her eyes flashed once, and she was up to her paws, “I’ll talk to him!” She didn’t even listen to Leafpaw’s replies as she raced up the clotted dirt and into the cold spit of the rain.

She clenched her teeth as the water began to rake her muzzle, but she kept her eyes open, feverishly scanning the Sunningrocks camp. A damp mist had begun to shroud the forest, making Squirrelpaw squint. She soon heard a frantic thumping to her left. Sure enough, bounding over the stepping stones was her mentor. He looked wild with fury, his fangs glinting dangerously even under the shadow of rainfall.

Squirrelpaw gulped; she knew perfectly well that Dustpelt’s temper was not one to be tested. In the past, just missing training with him had earned her fierce scolding and three days of tending to the elders. But now?

Across the stream, Squirrelpaw saw Brackenfur and Spiderpaw casting glances between the cat approaching her and the opening of the forest, where she assumed they had just seen Cinderpelt heading. Brackenfur was watching Dustpelt with knowing apprehension, while Spiderpaw stared at the forest with narrowed eyes, his pelt bristling.

Squirrelpaw took a breath, then pounced ahead. She had a feeling this would take a while, so the further she could keep Dustpelt’s angry yowls from reaching the den, the better.

“Dustpelt,” she called, muffling the tension in her throat, but keeping her form sturdy in case Dustpelt tried to barge past her. “Just wait a moment.”

Her mentor was over the stream in a matter of seconds, storming over to his apprentice and hissing in her face. “Step aside, Squirrelpaw! I need to speak to Leafpaw, right now!”

“You can,” Squirrelpaw meowed, “But please just wait first.”

“Wait?!” Dustpelt bellowed, his whiskers tensing, “Why in the name of Silverpelt has Cinderpelt left Thunderclan?”

“She’s been called to help in Riverclan; Mudfur is sick.”

Incredulous anger seared across her mentor’s face. He whipped his head from the medicine den, then back to Squirrelpaw, his tail lashing. “Then that’s Riverclan’s business! What does Cinderpelt have to do with them? Last I checked, she was Thunderclan’s medicine cat!”

Squirrelpaw bit her tongue. Brambleclaw’s advice rolled in her head. Keep calm. He’s angry, and he’s scared. You won’t solve anything if you forget that. Sheopened her eyes, blinking gently at her mentor. “Riverclan needs a medicine cat if they’re going to make it with us on the journey. You know that Blackstar is preparing Shadowclan to leave on their own, for now, and tensions between them and Windclan are high. We’re the only clan they can ask for help.”

“And what about our cats?” Dustpelt growled, “What about my family?”

“Leafpaw’s watching over them.”

“Leafpaw is still an apprentice!” Dustpelt said, and Squirrelpaw forced herself not to scowl. “We can’t just swap out our clanmates like this! What happens if Mudfur can’t be helped? Is Cinderpelt expected to train their apprentices now personally? To become their medicine cat too?!”

“Of course not,” Squirrelpaw said, though her mind did wander with her mentor’s implication. She shook off the thought, “But Firestar wants all of the clans to leave together. We have to do our bit to make sure they’re ready.”

“Oh yes,” Dustpelt scoffed, “To follow the words of some old badger!”

“Oh for-” Squirrelpaw closed her eyes tight and tried not to think how sick she was of explaining the same thing. “It’s Starclan that wants us to find our new home, not Midnight.”

“But it’s still the badger’s directions we’re following, right?”

Squirrelpaw’s face pinched, but Dustpelt was already ranting ahead. “I already know we need to leave! Every cat that doesn’t have mouse-dung for brains knows that! We can’t stay here! But if you expect me to choose between the safety of my family and some cat from another clan, I’d sooner die myself!”

“No cat is expecting you to make that kind of choice!”

“Oh, really? Because it already looks like Cinderpelt is! I won’t be surprised if I’m asked to carry a Riverclan elder on my back the whole journey soon enough!”

Squirrelpaw sighed; she had a feeling Dustpelt already knew how mouse-brained he sounded. “Dustpelt, please. That isn’t going to happen. Cinderpelt’s just trying to make sure Mudfur gets better. Won’t that be better for us? That way, Riverclan won’t need our help, and we can ask for theirs if we need it?”

“You mean like how they’ve helped Windclan?” Dustpelt sneered, “Why should we trust Leopardstar to come to our aid? I don’t even know why Firestar is wasting his time with her! From what I’ve heard, it sounds like her mind’s made up!”

Squirrelpaw thought it was best to keep her mouth shut. This conversation was unravelling beyond her control. It was clear that Dustpelt wasn’t thinking straight; she’d get nowhere by arguing the journey with him. She imagined that wasn’t what was actually important to Dustpelt anyway. No, his anger, frantic as it was, was because of one pure fact. He wanted to keep his family safe. She could not be angry at him for that.

When she didn’t respond, Dustpelt made his way to pass her again. “I need to speak to Leafpaw!”

Squirrelpaw shoved herself in his direction, “Not until you’ve calmed down!”

Dustpelt baulked, “What do you expect from me, Squirrelpaw? You’ve seen Ferncloud, you already know how much she’s hurting!”

“I do! But we both also know that she’s exhausted! Hollykit and Birchkit are with her, sound asleep. That’s the only reason she’s able to get some rest right now!”

A darkness oozed into Dustpelt’s expression, his breath trembling, “Rest? Is that supposed to mean anything? We thought letting Larchkit sleep would help in the beginning,” He glared down at Squirrelpaw, “You already know what happened.”

Squirrelpaw struggled to keep her face from crumpling. Not because of his words, but because she saw the way the warrior’s mouth quivered as he said them. “I understand what you’re saying. But Cinderpelt wouldn’t have left if she didn’t think Ferncloud was safe with Leafpaw-”

“My kits need milk! My mate needs food! That’s the only thing that will help them right now! For how much longer are we expecting them to just chew herbs and sleep with empty bellies!” Despite the passion in his cries, there was a clear rasp in Dustpelt’s throat now. Squirrelpaw’s jaw slackened when she saw wetness trim the corners of his eyes.

Her eyes drifted back to where Brackfenfur and Spiderpaw still stood, miserably watching the display. Their pelts were filthy with mud, but there was no prey to be found at their paws. Squirrelpaw blinked, then met her mentor’s gaze again, her face twisting with pity.

She wanted to tell him that it was just a bad hunt, that soon prey would come, and they would all be ready to set off to their new home. 

But she wouldn’t insult his intelligence.

There was nothing else she could say. “Until we find prey,” she said, her chest already beginning to hurt, “There’s nothing else we can do.”

The rain beat mercilessly around them, slicking their paws with grime and washing over their trembling forms. Dustpelt stood there, his jaw clenched, breathing so hard it sounded like he was choking. His apprentice didn’t move as his gaze fell, a shallow hiss whistling out of his teeth.

“That’s not enough.”

Squirrelpaw didn’t break her stare.

“It’s not enough!” Dustpelt croaked, the anger in his voice distorting into something hoarse and terrible, “We have to do something! Anything! We already lost-” He looked away, his eyes creasing into a squint, “We need to help them. I-I need to-”

He threw his head back, staring at the sky. When his bared fangs parted, Squirrelpaw thought he was going to scream. But his mouth remained frozen in that agonised contraction, and she realised he just wanted the rain to hide his tears.

“I can’t help them,” he sobbed, a shaking, muddy paw covering his eyes, “I can’t do anything!” He turned away from his apprentice, but he still went on. Squirrelpaw wasn’t even sure if he was talking to her anymore. “‘Until we find prey?’ What prey is there? There’s nothing left here! Nothing but bones!”

Squirrelpaw could only watch as her mentor, the one who had left her breathless as he leapt in the air and snatched a sparrow mid-flight during their first training session, cried with such abandon. Her mouth felt like it was full of sharp stones, unable to even gasp as Dustpelt blamed himself for the loss of Larchkit, the sickness of his kits, and the agony of his mate.

This, Squirrelpaw realised, was the true reason for it all. This was why they needed to leave. This was also why every clan needed to follow them. Because Squirrelpaw knew, she knew with a horrifying certainty, that this pain was felt throughout the forest. In every clan, whether their leaders admitted it or not, cats had already lost more than they could have ever deserved.

“I don’t know what to do,” Dustpelt said, his voice as small as a newborn kit, “What am I supposed to do?”

Squirrelpaw couldn’t bear this! What was she supposed to say? Is there anything that would be good enough? She would have jumped into the wildest river if she could have fished out that answer! Her sister. Her mentor. How many cats was Squirrelpaw just expected to watch lose all their hope and strength, while she did nothing?

Because what could she do? 

She felt utterly helpless and useless. It was as if she were back in the mountain caves, only able to witness the horror of Sharptooth as he savaged and gored his way through the tribe. As he advanced on her friends and took away-

Her senses scurried away from her, and soon she was overwhelmed by the warmth of a starry tongue, the undying aroma of honey, and the welcome order of her friend’s voice.

And that was all it took for Squirrelpaw to think of one reason why she couldn’t give up. 

Cats were breaking apart. Everything they had ever known was being stolen from them. They didn’t know what to do next, and truthfully, Squirrelpaw didn’t know either. 

But what she did know was that she’d made a promise. And she’d do her best to keep it.

Slowly, she padded close to her mentor, stopping just a whisker from their pelts touching. Then she reached out a paw and laid it against his back. She waited, fearful that Dustpelt would jerk away from her touch. But all he did was continue to sob into his paw, still hiding his face from hers. Squirrelpaw let him cry, her paw patiently patting his fur, being careful not to make a sound. Dustpelt needed this moment.

It was only when his cries had diminished into weak sniffs and tattered breaths that Squirrelpaw found her voice. “They need you.”

“Why? I can’t do anything.” Dustpelt said, his voice almost a moan.

“Yes, you can. You can stay with them.”

She felt the fur tense under her paw. “What good will that do?”

“They’re tired,” Squirrelpaw meowed, keeping her foreleg steady, “They’re scared.”

“And so am I,” the paw fell from Dustpelt’s face. He didn’t look back at his apprentice; he didn’t really seem to be looking anywhere. His eyes were raw and wet and exhausted. “They’re all so sick, and I don’t know what else to do. I’m supposed to look after them.”

“We’re all supposed to look after each other. This isn’t just on you, Dustpelt.”

“I’m Ferncloud’s mate. I’m Hollykit and Birchkit’s father.” This time, he met his apprentice’s gaze, and he didn’t hide the pain in his expression, “I should be the first cat they know they can rely on. But I couldn’t even find a single mouse for them. How am I supposed to go in there and tell them that everything’s going to be alright?”

Squirrelpaw was reminded of the hopelessness she had felt at the last gathering. When she had seen the looks on her friends’ faces, she had felt so alone. She wondered if she would have believed it then if a cat had told her that it would be okay. If she were honest, she knew the answer to that.

But she also knew that wasn’t what was important.

“You’re their family,” she said, offering him a small, sad smile, “How else are they going to believe it?” 

Dustpelt’s eyes widened, bewildered. His jaw hovered as if to protest, then he just grunted, the words catching in his throat. He turned away from her to the medicine den, and a despondent shadow wrinkled over his muzzle. “What does it even matter? It won’t help.”

Squirrelpaw gently shook her head, pulling her paw back. “Can it help any less?”

Dustpelt stiffened, but he said nothing else. His eyes were fixed, dejected, bitter, but intently into the gloom of the medicine den. 

Somehow, Squirrelpaw knew it was okay to step aside. She brushed her tail against Dustpelt’s side once more, “Cinderpelt will be back soon. They’re all asleep right now, but Leafpaw’s watching them closely.” She gave her mentor an affectionate mew, “I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you when they wake up.”

Dustpelt’s eyes were marred with darkness, but he still nodded languidly. He rubbed his paw over his chest to brush off the mud, then wiped his eyes thoroughly. “Right.” He looked through the corner of his eye at Squirrelpaw, silent for a moment longer, then turned away.

Making himself look as tall as he could, he shook off the rain and wandered into the medicine den.

Squirrelpaw took a hesitant step close and listened.

There were a few muffled meows, interlocked by small beats of quiet. But then the silence loomed, and the shadow of the den oozed with a tepid but stable peace.

The apprentice waited with bated breath, aware of the drumming of her heart, for a few seconds more, before she gave in and allowed herself a thankful sigh. A part of her wanted to peer in, just to make sure Dustpelt was safe beside his mate and kits, and that Leafpaw was calm in the absence of her mentor. But she knew better than to push her luck so much. The tension in the clan had by no means disappeared, and it could easily burst out again if she wasn’t careful.

But for how long was she expected to be careful? She wouldn’t give in like the others; she trusted herself that much. But Dustpelt wasn’t wrong. Things were dire, and cats could only be strong for so long. Thunderclan was already prepared to leave; most cats wouldn’t wait much longer for the other clans while their own family suffered. Starclan knew she wanted to leave, too.

She just couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving them as well.

No, not just stomach it. She wouldn’t allow it.

Sighing, she gave her pelt a firm shake. It was always annoying how much rain soaked into her fur. She looked around the camp, wondering what else she could do. Spiderpaw and Brackenfur had vanished from their previous spot over the river, presumably to report their failed hunt to Greystripe. She wondered if she could try organising her own hunting patrol. Even if Dustpelt said there was nothing left, they had to at least keep trying. Maybe they’d be able to pick up some more herbs at least? If they were going to start trading with the other clans, that could come in useful. Anything was better than just waiting for the forest to become a wasteland!

Shrewpaw and Whitepaw would probably be up for it; the former had been itching to get to his paws once out of the medicine den, and the latter seemed reluctant to let him out of her sight, but they’d still need a warrior to go with them. She supposed she could always ask Brightheart or Goldenflower, they had been relatively kind since she had come-

Squirrelpaw’s ears twitched. She looked towards the forest line again and was sure she could hear muffled voices growing closer. They hummed like bees, frantic and urgent, before dimming once more as they crept towards the edge. Squirrelpaw’s brow rose, and she began to jump across the stepping-stones.

Before she had made it to the other side, she saw three shadows ease out of the forest. Her eyes widened when the shape of her father and Brambleclaw stepped into camp, followed close behind by Ashfur. She moved with barely suppressed excitement, quickly jumping over the last stone to meet them.

“You’re back!” She said, rushing over. “What did Leopardstar say?”

It was only when she was close enough and blinked away the rain in her eyes that she saw their expressions. She froze. No cat was smiling. Firestar stood at the front, looking at her for only a moment before he quickly thrust his head to look at the cats behind him. Instantly. Brambleclaw looked away, while Ashfur scowled back at his leader. Squirrelpaw saw her father’s neck prickling, and she drew back with alarm. 

“We never got to see her,” Brambleclaw said, his voice soft.

Squirrelpaw gasped, weaving around her father to meet her friend. “What?”

“She wasn’t able to meet with us,” Firestar said gravely, though Squirrelpaw could feel his eyes burning behind her, “Their medicine cat is ill.”

“Yeah, I know.” She quickly explained how Cinderpelt had left with Stormfur and Mothwing, and was relieved when she saw her father nod, unsurprised. Her eyes narrowed, remembering what Stormfur had said. “Wait. Does that mean you were only able to speak to Hawkfrost?”

Squirrelpaw didn’t miss the way all three cats reacted to the name. Ashfur’s lips pulled back into a snarl, shaking angrily as Firestar stared him down with intense warning. But Brambleclaw visibly flinched, his eyes flashing open and boring into the ground as if he wished he could sink into the mud. 

Squirrelpaw felt a sinking feeling in her gut. She stepped closer to Brambleclaw, trying to stir his attention. But the warrior did not move.

“Unfortunately, yes.” She heard Firestar drawl, “According to his word, Leopardstar hasn’t changed her mind since the gathering. I told Hawkfrost I’d come back with Greystripe near duskfall to bring back Cinderpelt. We’ll have to try and meet with her then.”

“What?” Squirrelpaw couldn’t believe what Firestar had just said. After Firestar’s desperation at the gathering, she didn’t expect him to just draw back like this. “But what about the Twolegs?”

Her father sighed, “We saw their camp. I could barely smell any trace of the monsters there. It’s no wonder they’re so reluctant to leave.”

Ashfur muttered something under his breath. 

Squirrelpaw shook her head, looking at Brambleclaw desperately, “Cinderpelt said that Mudfur’s been poisoned! It’s just like what’s happening in Windclan! Riverclan’s prey could already be affected!”

Brambleclaw’s eyes flickered sadly, but his head stayed low. 

Squirrelpaw heard Ashfur scoff, “How terrible…” 

Firestar growled at the grey tom, but he kept his attention on his daughter, “We can’t just make demands, especially when their medicine cat has fallen ill. Once Mudfur’s stable, my hope is that Leopardstar will finally realise the gravity of the situation.”

“Why should we care?” Ashfur snapped, still glaring at Firestar, “If she’s that mouse-brained to share tongues with fox-blooded rogues while the forest is torn apart, then she can answer for it when her cats begin to starve!”

The apprentice gasped at the ferocity of Ashfur’s yowl. She didn’t pretend to be especially close with him, but she’d always thought of him as a reasonable enough tom. She’d certainly never heard such venom come out of him before. Even Brambleclaw looked shocked as she saw his shoulders quiver, most likely offended at the tone towards their leader.

Firestar’s lip curled, and he stepped towards his warrior with a hiss, “Hold your tongue, Ashfur! You know better than to say such mouse-bile!”

Ashfur continued to seethe, but Squirrelpaw’s ears perked when she replayed the tom’s words in her mind.

“Rogues?”

Firestar sighed irritably, his eyes still burning on the grey tom. “Riverclan has allowed some rogue cats to stay in their camp. It’s not important.”

Squirrelpaw rose a brow, “You mean Hawkfrost and Mothwing?”

“That would be bad enough, but there’s more,” Ashfur muttered coldly, his slitted eyes sliding to where Brambleclaw sat, “That molly with the stupid kittypet name, right?”

A tail lashed the mud beside her. Brambleclaw’s fur quivered as if he felt fox-breath on his back.

The apprentice’s jaw dropped. Riverclan was allowing more cats born outside the clans to join them? At a time like this? That didn’t sound like Leopardstar. More importantly, she wasn’t stupid. She looked between Ashfur and Firestar’s unblinking grimaces, then back at her shaking friend. Something strange was going on!

Firestar seemed to sense his daughter’s confusion. “If Riverclan wishes to give cats refuge, that’s up to them.”

Ashfur’s eyes widened with genuine shock, “You don’t think we should be concerned? Knowing that they’re-”

She had thought she had heard her Brambleclaw’s teeth snap, ready to erupt, when Firestar’s voice silenced the group, “What cats Riverclan take in is their own business, and it is not important in the slightest to what’s going on!” The Thunderclan leader narrowed his eyes into a dangerous glare and stepped close to Ashfur, his teeth bared. “It has nothing to do with Thunderclan, and we will not waste our breath on it anymore!”

Brambleclaw lifted his head briefly, still not meeting anyone’s gaze, before he finally let out a long breath. He made a low murmur of wordless agreement.

Ashfur still looked infuriated, “You can’t expect-”

Firestar leaned forward close enough that his nose almost touched Ashfur’s, “Not another word about it. Is that clear?”

Squirrelpaw almost took a step back. She rarely heard that kind of tone from her father, the kind that made her feel like a kit shaking in the nursery, and she wanted to keep it that way. But, once again, suspicion crawled over her. Firestar’s defensive passion didn’t feel right. She briefly wondered whether he was offended by his own history as a kittypet, but the thought didn’t last. Firestar had never been sensitive about his life before the clans, not even in the face of actual mockery from the other clans. 

No, her father’s anger here felt different. But that, Squirrelpaw realised with a shudder, was even scarier.

Ashfur tried to hold his leader’s gaze, but as Firestar’s shadow loomed darker over his eyes, he finally turned away. His words slithered out with forced respect, “Yes, Firestar.” 

Firestar didn’t reply. He glared at the grey warrior for a long while, his snarl slowly settling into an icy line across his muzzle. When he was sure the fight had left his warrior, Firestar spoke up again. “Squirrelpaw, how is Ferncloud doing?”

“Huh?” Squirrelpaw jerked, discomfort still fresh in her belly, “Oh. Um, Leafpaw’s watching them. Dustpelt too. They were asleep when I left.”

Firestar was still watching Ashfur, “Did Dustpelt’s patrol catch any prey?”

“…no.”

The simmering across Ashfur’s pelt struck to a halt. He looked up at the apprentice, his face tight with distress. Firestar noticed, his own expression somersaulting from rage, to frustration, to sympathy. “I see.”

Squirrelpaw timidly looked up, “I was just about to ask Greystripe if we could organise another patrol when you arrived. Maybe we’ll get lucky near the Shadowclan border?”

She could see Firestar was trying to look appreciative of her suggestion, but his fur still lay flat and hopeless. “That’s a good idea.” He eased the space between himself and Ashfur, and his voice softened, “I’ll go and update Greystripe on Riverclan’s position first. ”

Squirrelpaw wilted. That made sense. She worried enough about Stormfur herself; she could only imagine how Greystripe felt.

Firestar looked between the two warriors, “Can you two join that patrol?”

Brambleclaw answered, his eyes not leaving his paws. “Of course.”

“What about me?” Squirrelpaw meowed. It had been her idea after all.

Firestar rolled his eyes, but he looked more amused than tired. “As long as you’re sure Leafpaw doesn’t need your help.”

“It’s fine,” Ashfur’s voice cut in dryly. He had managed to compose himself enough that his claws were now sheathed, and his fur lay smooth. But he refused to look in Firestar’s direction, or Brambleclaw’s, for that matter. “I’m going to see Ferncloud. If Leafpaw needs any help, I’ll do it.” 

He didn’t wait for Firestar to respond. With a bitter sniff, he was on his paws, and his grey form treaded off. He didn’t look back once, even as his tail gave one final lash before it disappeared into the medicine den.

Squirrelpaw frowned in his direction. A part of her felt guilty for feeling annoyed by his coldness. He had already lost his niece, and Ferncloud was his sister. She didn’t even want to imagine how she’d manage if Leafpaw was in that position. But still, to be so dismissive that he wouldn’t even wait for his leader’s opinion.

And there was that uncomfortable twist in her gut again. That urgent notion that there was something they weren’t telling her. She peered over at Brambleclaw, and he didn’t even glance at where his clanmate had stormed off. He was slowly grooming his shoulder, and the shadow obscured all but the rigid muscle pulsing across his neck. Squirrelpaw’s breath hitched, and her tail fell limp behind her.

Something was definitely wrong.

She heard her father grunt and mutter something that was veiled by the ever-thickening rain. Then he sighed, a hoarse, slow sound that made Squirrelpaw feel like a great stone was perched across her back. “Well then,” her father said, “I’ll tell Greystripe to find you two when he’s ready.”

Firestar was not facing them. He stared at the medicine den, his expression unreadable save for the vexed ripple of his whiskers. It was only when he turned, dull but expectant, to the pair that Squirrelpaw found her voice.

“Okay.”

Firestar hummed his recognition, but he didn’t move.

Before the rain could beat too harshly into the silence, Brambleclaw nodded.

Firestar’s ears drew back, but his face did not change. For one fierce second, Squirrelpaw was certain that she saw a flash of condolence, one that briefly lingered over Brambleclaw, before Firestar blinked, nodded back, and slowly began to pad away. “Make sure you listen to Greystripe, Squirrelpaw,” he said, without turning, “He’s already seen the Twolegs and their traps first-paw, he’ll know what to watch out for.”

Offence flushed into Squirrelpaw’s cheeks. First, Firestar hadn’t let her join them in Riverclan, and now he was singling her out like a misbehaving kit! Did he really think she didn’t know how to take care of herself? “I know, Firestar.” She sighed, adding under her breath, “You don’t have to tell me.”

Part of her hoped that her father’s ear would flick, he’d turn on her in a tangent, and that she’d get so mad that she wouldn’t care enough to stop herself from forcing him to listen to her.

But her Father had not heard her, or did not care enough to react. And soon his blazing pelt was nothing but a fading smudge of light in the grey haze.

Disappointment knotted in Squirrelpaw’s throat. She understood that Firestar was looking out for her, especially after all he had seen in the passing moons. She remembered how scared her mother had told her they’d been while she was gone; it wasn’t unreasonable that he wanted to protect her now she was back.

But was it really too much to ask for Firestar to give one indication that he trusted her?

Not Starclan. Not Brambleclaw. Just her.

Speaking of her friend, Squirrelpaw quickly turned to Brambleclaw. He was still watching Firestar’s distant form, his face taut with concern. The apprentice approached him gently, her tail moving to rest at his side when she was close enough.

“Are you okay?”

Brambleclaw blinked, inhaled tensely, then looked down at her. “I’m sorry?”

“You looked… off,” she couldn’t think of a more pleasant-sounding word, she tried to disguise that with a soft purr, “When those two were arguing? Is everything alright?”

Brambleclaw’s face softened, “I’m fine, thanks.”

Squirrelpaw craned her head, “Are you sure?” Brambleclaw had barely even spoken during the argument between his clanmates. 

“I’m sure,” his own tail tapped her side, “I’m a little tired, that’s all. I’ll get over it.”

Squirrelpaw thought back to the journey. When they had forced themselves to press through rain, wind and snow. Even when they were sopping wet or freezing cold, Brambleclaw had been at the front, refusing to even look back or slow down. Maybe it had partly been because of that stubborn ego he’d slipped through eventually, but still, it was not like him to let exhaustion beat him so easily.

Then again, could she actually compare the journey to what was happening in Thunderclan now? Not to mention the unkind words of their clanmates that Brambleclaw had been facing as well since they came back. Maybe he was taking it worse than she imagined?

Then again… Squirrelpaw’s brow knotted as Brambleclaw’s lost expression struck her memory.

Brambleclaw must have seen the doubt in her eyes, as his tail rose to stroke across her back. “I mean it, Squirrelpaw, I’m okay. I’m just…” He looked at his paws, pupils scattering from one side to the other, before they locked onto her again, “I’m just frustrated that we couldn’t meet with Leopardstar. It does Thunderclan no good if we spend our time arguing when we should be ready to leave.”

He was right about that, Squirrelpaw conceded. They’d travelled together, but Starclan had chosen Brambleclaw for the journey; it made sense that he’d be feeling just as anxious as she was, maybe even more.

She wanted to believe that was all it was, anyway.

She chose to oblige the thought, if just to erase the ill feeling the uncertainty gave her. “I agree with you there,” she sighed, “It’s so annoying! But I saw how scared Stormfur and Mothwing looked. I hope it isn’t poisoning.”

“I hope so, too,” Brambleclaw brushed against her side, “But there’s no medicine cat as capable as Cinderpelt. And this time, the clans know what they’re dealing with. She’ll know what to do.”

Squirrelpaw mewed her agreement, hoping it sounded more confident than she was. She pulled away, making sure Brambleclaw had her attention again, “You sure you’re alright?”

Brambleclaw smiled, “I’m sure.” A grateful glow filled his amber gaze, one that Squirrelpaw believed immediately and happily, “You don’t need to worry.”

Squirrelpaw couldn’t help but flick his pelt with her tail, “I’ll be the judge of that, thank you very much.”

The tom chuckled, his voice already sounding lighter, “Mouse-brain.”

Squirrelpaw laughed along, feeling relieved by the sound. But as they sat there, the dark needles of rainfall still slashing around them, Squirrelpaw could not help herself as the memory of the trio’s arrival hovered over her once more. 

“What was going on with them, anyway?”

Brambleclaw’s smile faded. “Huh?”

“Firestar and Ashfur,” she said, “Arguing like that?” She looked up at the warrior, watching him closely. “What was that all about?”

“Oh,” Her friend laughed gingerly, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Squirrelpaw. All of us were expecting to meet with Leopardstar; it makes sense they’d be upset.”

Squirrelpaw frowned. “You heard Ashfur, Brambleclaw. He wasn’t upset about Leopardstar.” She remembered the tom’s words perfectly, “It was about the cats you met at the border. Did something happen?”

Brambleclaw looked at her, his face stony, “It’s just like Firestar said. Hawkfrost told us that Leopardstar wouldn’t meet with us because of Mudfur’s illness.”

Squirrelpaw pretended to murmur thoughtfully, but there was something dry in her friend’s voice she didn’t like. “What happened next?”

“Not much, to be honest,” the warrior said, “It was pretty clear that we wouldn’t be seeing her. Then we saw Stormfur and Mothwing leaving for Riverclan, which was when Firestar said he’d come back later for Cinderpelt. I’m pretty sure Hawkfrost got the message that he wanted to speak to Leopardstar then.” He looked away aimlessly, “After that, there wasn’t really much else to do but leave.”

Squirrelpaw caught on to what Brambleclaw had missed as soon as he was finished. But she waited still, watching him, just to test if it was a slip of his mind. But her friend’s expression remained stony and impenetrable, not straying from its direction. 

As if aware she was watching him.

Squirrelpaw’s tongue rolled, straining to stay patient, “That’s it?” 

“That’s it,” he replied with a shrug.

“What about that other molly?”

His stare drew further away, “Who?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Squirrelpaw rolled her eyes, “The cat Ashfur was growling about. The one with the kittypet name.”

“Again, Firestar already explained it,” Brambleclaw said, his eyes narrowing slightly, “Riverclan’s giving her refuge for the time being.”

“Who is she?”

Brambleclaw paused for a moment, his tail going flat against the ground, then he shrugged, “Just some cat that escaped the twolegs, that’s all.”

Squirrelpaw felt an uncomfortable shudder across her neck at Brambleclaw’s hesitation. “And… she’s a kittypet?”

“I guess so, or she used to be, I suppose.”

“So why would they take her in?” Squirrelpaw pressed.

“I don’t know,” Brambleclaw said, shaking his head, “We didn’t exactly stop to ask.”

The apprentice ignored the irritation in that last comment. She decided to just get to the point, “You don’t find that odd at all?”

“Why should I? It’s up to Leopardstar who they take in.”

Squirrelpaw stared hard at her friend. There was no way Brambleclaw could be so naive. “Leopardstar,” She said pointedly, “She’s giving a rogue cat refuge?”

“She looked harmless enough.”

Squirrelpaw gasped heatedly. Was Brambleclaw really not getting any of it? He wasn’t that much older than her, but he had to be more familiar with Leopardstar’s usual attitude than she was. Squirrelpaw had only seen her a few times, but it was already hard to imagine a cat like that doing anything but hissing at cats on the outside of her territory!

 Brambleclaw sighed, “I don’t understand what the issue is, Squirrelpaw.”

“Really?” Squirrelpaw meowed, “Isn’t Leopardstar the cat that refused to let Windclan share the river anymore? Even if Riverclan isn’t affected nearly as badly as the other clans right now, you know she’s not the type to just let in another mouth to feed!”

The fur along Brambleclaw’s spine began to prickle. He looked toward the sky, sucking in a tight breath, “Well, maybe she’s changed her mind. I mean, she made Hawkfrost her deputy, didn’t she? If she feels it was a good decision to let them in, maybe Leopardstar is just willing to take more of a chance on cats who aren’t clanborn now.”

Squirrelpaw didn’t want to admit it - at all - but Brambleclaw did have a point there. Leopardstar must have had real trust in Hawkfrost if she was ready to make him a deputy over any of her other cats. And she’d seen from Leafpaw and Feathertail’s reactions how quickly Mothwing had been accepted. 

She sniffed, considering it quietly. Feathertail had also told her how she’d thought Leopardstar unforgivable for her alliance with Tigerstar, but that the leader had earned her trust back by proving that she’d buried that part of her well and deep. 

If Leopardstar had been able to change from such a decision like that, was it really so hard to believe that she could do it over something like this?

Squirrelpaw supposed not, but she still couldn’t ignore the voice in her mind that told her something was wrong. She didn’t know what it was, but she had a bad feeling.

After all - Squirrelpaw thought with a growl - she realised that it had only been one cat that Leafpaw or Feathertail, cats she actually trusted, had spoken well of. 

“I’m not sure making that fox-heart her deputy could be considered good judgment,” Squirrelpaw said coldly.

Squirrelpaw jerked when she saw Brambleclaw flinch in the corner of her eye. The fur along his spine was rigid into dark thorns, and when he faced her, his frown was sudden and rigid. “Well, that doesn’t have anything to do with us, does it?”

The apprentice stepped back slightly, her throat tightening at his glare, “Excuse me?”

Brambleclaw paused, his mouth hanging open slightly. He stood still, as if surprised by his own outburst. Then, with a clipped twitch of his ear, he met Squirrelpaw’s eyes. “Whatever reasons Leopardstar has for letting cats into Riverclan are hers alone. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t give a whisker what we think, so what’s the point of talking about it?”

It was the drastic turn of his head that made Squirrelpaw jump to her paws. There was no way she was going to let Brambleclaw shut the conversation down like that. She couldn’t understand what it was that had upset him, but now she knew that something wasn’t right! Brambleclaw couldn’t possibly think she was wrong for being suspicious of that fox-heart! Not after the gathering!

“There’s a point when she’s taking Hawkfrost’s word over ours?” Squirrelpaw meowed, pouncing over to where Brambleclaw had looked away. “And I’m not just talking about Thunderclan! What about Stormfur? He’s her warrior, too, and she doesn’t trust what he has to say!”

“That might just be because he wasn’t their chosen cat. It’s terrible, Squirrelpaw, but it does make some sense why cats wouldn’t believe him.” His voice lowered to a resigned hush, “There are cats that don’t believe us either, it’s going to be harder for Stormfur.”

“Oh please!” Squirrelpaw spat, her claws tensing, “You heard what Hawkfrost called him! What about Feathertail?” Her whiskers flared up daringly, “Is she a ‘traitor’ too?”

Brambleclaw’s eyes widened, and his muzzle wrinkled, “You know that’s not what I’m saying!”

“I’m not talking about you, Brambleclaw! The point is that’s what that fox-heart thinks! About all of us!” Squirrelpaw sighed, desperation seeping into her mew, “Do you really think it’s good for Leopardstar to trust a cat like that over Stormfur? At a time like this? We already heard from him how it was Hawkfrost who lied about Windclan!”

Brambleclaw pressed a paw against his forehead, hissing softly. “We don’t know…” He trailed off, biting his lip. It was only when he opened one eye and saw Squirrelpaw’s burning stare that he cringed and muttered, “We don’t know for sure that he was lying.”

Squirrelpaw’s eye twitched, and she felt a rancid, burning steam in her chest. “You can’t be-”

“I’m not saying it’s right!” Brambleclaw said quickly, “But that’s Leopardstar’s decision in the end, not Hawkfrost’s.”

“But she made it based on his word, Brambleclaw!” Squirrelpaw said, “She already believed him over Tallstar when it came to the river! And he made it clear he doesn’t care about the other clans at the gathering! Having a cat like him in Leopardstar’s ear does no cat any favours!”

A tremor surged across Brambleclaw’s body. He flinched back, a shocked rasp leaving him breathless. His throat seemed to jut back and forth, like a cat swallowing down something foul. The change was so swift that Squirrelpaw involuntarily felt her foreleg reach over to lay a comforting paw, but Brambleclaw hustled away before she could make contact, his shock darkening into real anger. “A cat like him?”

Squirrelpaw gasped at the accusation in his eyes. Surely Brambleclaw didn’t think she was talking about Hawkfrost’s- “Brambleclaw, come on! You know I’m only talking about what he’s said!”

Brambleclaw bared his teeth as he turned away, scoffing.

The apprentice scowled, her hurt giving way to a betrayed sense of indignation, “You’re the one who mentioned him not being clanborn at the gathering!”

The brown tom glared at her, but there was a wounded crease along his muzzle. “And I was mouse-brained to do it! Even if he was baiting us, I shouldn’t have resorted to something like that!”

“But that’s not what I’m talking about!” Squirrelpaw cried, feeling more vexed by the second, “All I mean is that he’s making the situation worse with what he’s doing! It doesn’t matter if he’s clanborn or not!”

Brambleclaw growled, his jaw bracing to argue back. But as a rough sound warbled in his maw, it quickly snapped back shut. He stepped back, breathing hard, taking another step back when Squirrelpaw tried to move closer. The apprentice felt her anger cool into a dull, pounding ache. Brambleclaw couldn’t think she was like that, could he? Even casting aside the knowledge of her father’s history, surely, after everything, he just knew her better than that?

The idea that he didn’t…

Her heart beat into the silence pleadingly. She waited, hopeful, for her friend to respond.

Brambleclaw watched her too, his eyes still blazing, but soon a shiver wracked over his face. He exhaled, something small trembling deep in the irritation. “That’s right. It doesn’t.” His voice flattened, and he straightened up, “It also doesn’t matter if we trust him or not. It’s not Hawkfrost we need to convince, it’s Leopardstar. That’s the only way we’ll get Riverclan to join us.”

Squirrelpaw’s stomach sank at Brambleclaw’s curtness. “I agree,” she said cautiously, “I’m just trying to say that-”

Brambleclaw sighed again, and Squirrelpaw couldn’t help but be pained by the fatigue in its tone. Suddenly, she was thinking of the start of the journey, before she’d earned her place in the group, where her role had simply been the unwelcome tagalong that no cat truly wanted there. The words slid back into her throat, and cold silence reigned over the pair once again.

The tom glanced at her, and the ice in his stare slowly thawed. He rose one paw, and then, almost reluctantly, it fell back. His tail wrapped close around his paws, “I understand why you’re upset, Squirrelpaw.” A wistful air brushed over his face, “I know that you’re worried about what’s going on in Windclan.”

Squirrelpaw’s head thrust up, a jitter creeping across her pelt. “It’s not just-”

“Just let me finish, please,” Brambleclaw said, not waiting for a reaction as he continued, “We all saw how Tallstar looked. I wasn’t shocked that Crowpaw acted the way he did. He’s under so much pressure already. But that doesn’t mean we should insert ourselves into the business of the other clans, especially when it has nothing to do with the journey ahead.”

But what if it does? Squirrelpaw didn’t bother to say it. She could already see that Brambleclaw wasn’t going to accept her point. Besides, while she felt sick for even thinking it, she didn’t entirely believe that Brambleclaw understood her concern. The mention of Crowpaw made her pelt quiver uneasily, but her frustration wasn’t just because of their friendship! 

She got what he was trying to say - that whether Leopardstar let in non-clanborn cats or not, she’d still need to be convinced. But she had still chosen to do so, just like she had chosen to disregard the state of the clans and the forest, and Hawkfrost had something to do withboth of those decisions! How could Brambleclaw not see that mattered?

“Look,” Brambleclaw meowed, as Squirrelpaw’s only reply was the swipe of her tail in the dirt, “We still haven’t actually spoken to Leopardstar yet. Firestar’s right, now that Mudfur’s been poisoned, we have more of a chance of convincing her.” He squirmed slightly, “Okay, that sounded better in my head.”

He laughed, glancing at Squirrelpaw. When she didn’t join in, his smile fell away listlessly.

“I get that you’re worried about them,” Brambleclaw mumbled, “I am as well. They’re my friends too.” His gaze drew back up, torn into a ragged mix of sympathy and severity, “But getting your fur knotted up like this isn’t going to help them.”

Why is he talking to me like I’m a kit? Squirrelpaw held back the strangled feeling in her throat that she knew would make it sound like she was going to cry. She forced herself to stray away from Brambleclaw’s eyes, because she knew just what kind of look she’d find there. He had already decided for himself why she thought what she did, how much worth her concerns held, and what she was supposed to be doing instead.

She didn’t even care anymore that he didn’t understand why she was worried about Riverclan. Or that she suspected Brambleclaw wasn’t being as truthful about the border encounter as he was sharing.

All she could think of now was how he was speaking to her as if he were afraid she’d cause trouble.

She could speak up, she supposed. Continue to argue, and hope that somehow Brambleclaw would truly understand.

But the words cowered under her tongue, congealed in the heavy, sickly knowledge that it would do no good.

She heard Brambleclaw take a step towards her. “I do get it, Squirrelpaw,” he said, “I just… I just hope you get where I’m coming from as well.” It was the twinge of unhappiness in Brambleclaw’s voice that stopped Squirrelpaw from replying further. The kind that told her, under all his promises and attempts of comfort, even if he was telling the truth, that there was a part of him that believed that Squirrelpaw was the one in the wrong. 

So when Brambleclaw began to pad off, gently saying that he’d see her for the patrol later, Squirrelpaw did not look up or say anything else. She was sure she heard him sigh once again, and, whether it was sorrow or chagrin she heard in his breath, she felt sick all the same.

With nowhere left to go, she padded towards the border.

When she arrived there, alone and waiting, she finally looked away from her paws. She remembered what she’d told herself after her conversation with Dustpelt: that she would not be the one to give in. That no matter what cats thought, she would look ahead and know that they would succeed. 

But when she opened her eyes, all she saw in the forest ahead was an indisguisable stretch of ruin. 

This place, where trees stood naked and dark, where the ground had soaked into thick sludge, where prey had already fled far beyond their starving hunters. This was not a place where life could sustain itself.

But Squirrelpaw had already known that. She’d known that for moons. She had prepared herself for such ever since encountering Midnight so long ago. 

She sniffed. Her eyes felt heavy, and her head was throbbing. She didn’t want to think about this. She knew it was the very thing she had promised not to do. But every time she pulled herself free, there was always something in her way, waiting to trip her up and coil around her paws like roots.

And she’d gotten up every time because she thought that she needed to.

Her sister’s voice echoed, small, at the back of her mind. ‘We need you too. All of us.’

Even if it had been her sister, her sheer belief had adorned Squirrelpaw like a flower.

It was the same belief that Feathertail had entrusted her with.

But it was the very thought of her friend that dragged her down once more. Because the clans were still scattered and broken, and there was still no guarantee that she would ever travel with them again. And now, that terrible expanse had seeped into her own clan, splitting between her and Brambleclaw, leaving a web of secrets and distrust that Squirrelpaw did not know how to untangle.

Squirrelpaw clenched her eyes shut, an empty hiss straining in her throat. An apology to the stars, to her friend, burned into her every thought.

She’d promised to look after their friends, to be the one they knew they could rely on.

With a shaking paw, Squirrelpaw brushed over her ear, pressing deep, waiting for the brush of distant petals to offer her faith once again.

But all she felt wash over her was the feeling that she was alone.

Squirrelpaw wrenched her paw into the dirt, and she suddenly erupted with a high cry of anger. It echoed mockingly back at her, then died as it was swallowed into the clouds. 

She sat there, trying to stop herself from trembling. But her eyes were misty as they rose to the sky, staring into the rain. 

‘I want to believe we’ll be alright, Feathertail. But it’s so hard.’

She gulped to wet the dry soreness in her throat. She hated feeling like this. She was sick of bad news. There were so many things she wanted, but above all, she just wanted not to feel foolish for thinking it would all be okay.

Because she couldn’t help wanting it.

Squirrelpaw breathed heavily, rubbing her eyes with a foreleg. Then she stopped as she caught a fragment of cat scent poke at her senses, gently growing stronger. ‘Greystripe must be ready for patrol.’

She shook her head, sniffing in deep, making sure her throat was as clear as it could be. No cat needed her to be upset right now. And she certainly didn’t want to have a conversation about it, not from Greystripe, and definitely not with Brambleclaw. Hopefully, the patrol would help her clear her mind, if just until her father set off to speak with Leopardstar again.

She was about to turn to greet her clanmates when the scent touched her again. She stopped, inhaling again just to be sure. She looked back once and quickly confirmed that no cat was approaching her. Her sight fixed on the border, just beyond a dark tangle of bushes. Yes - that was where the smell was coming from.

Squirrelpaw got to her paws, her muscles tightening. She could hear things now, the hurried scatter of paws, the snap of twigs and the rustle of leaves. She could even hear low voices bustling in the shadows. It sounded like a fair few cats if she was right. ‘Another patrol?’

The apprentice swallowed hard, but readied herself. She didn’t expect any real trouble, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Her fur, as slick with rain as it was, didn’t spike that hard, but she tried to make herself look as big as possible.

‘I’ll see who it is first, and if it looks like trouble I’ll go and get-’

As she took another tense breath, her eyes widened. The scent was stronger now. She was right, there were multiple cats. But well-known, if delicate and suppressed, smells swam into her throat. 

The sweet bite of long grass. 

A gentle breeze of heather and gorse.

And - buried under the sodden, thick smell of rain and mud - the faint whisper of the crisp air.

Squirrelpaw’s fur smoothed, and she stood, watching with surprise, as the bushes began to shake and the voices began to grow louder, and more familiar. They sounded panicked. Apprehension coursed over her once more, and she started forward with a gasp.

But in that gasp, another scent brushed over her whiskers.

Before she realised it, Squirrelpaw was still once again. Watching with wide, blurry eyes as the outline of the visitors began to scurry out of the shadows. She saw Tallstar first, then Onewhisker, both finding her with open fright in their expressions.

Then, close behind, a dark shape followed them out.

Lionwhisker is NOT one of the three in my Au- rather, he's happy being a Thunderclan Medic and helping out his clan.