#fishtrick

“Floodstrike!” she purred. “I was looking for you!”

“You were?” he asked, one brow rising above the other. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, settling down next to him. “Scorchplume said I had to go hang out with people my age and you’re the only cat here that I know.”

“I’m like six moons older than you,” he laughed. “I remember when you were born.”

Fogpaw rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, Slatepaw isn’t here and the EarthClan apprentices think I’m weird. Besides, we’re close enough. I like hanging out with you.” 

That managed to cheer Floodstrike up just a bit. “Yeah, I like hanging out with you too.” 

Fogpaw beamed. She ran her tongue over one bloodstained paw and started trying to groom the rest of the blood from her fur which was difficult, given how white it was. 

Floodstrike chuckled and started grooming his own pelt. “How are you doing? Like, with the battle and everything.” 

“I’m okay,” she said and seemed to mean it. “I’m really glad Scorchplume let me come help. It was kind of scary but also really exciting, you know?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, remembering the battle where Ospreymask had killed a cat right in front of him. How young and naive he was back then. “It can be a lot to get used to but you’ll get the hang of it.”

“Do you think I’ll get my warrior name for it?” asked Fogpaw. 

“I don’t think so,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re probably gonna stay an apprentice forever.”

“I’m serious!” she laughed. “I wanna be a warrior so bad!” 

“You’ll get there eventually,” he said, cuffing her ear lightly. “Just be patient.” 

“Floodstrike!” the call made him sit up straighter. Fishtrick came out of the crowd, her own white fur stained with blood and dusted with bits of straw. 

“Fishtrick!” he grinned and jumped to his feet. “How’s Boldmoth?” 

“Her leg is broken,” said Fishtrick with a wince. “Stormwhisper says we probably won’t have to amputate it but it's probably gonna heal crooked.”

“Damn,” he pursed his lips, ears wilting. “I’m so sorry. I was right there, I should have grabbed her.”

“You saved Erminepaw, didn’t you?” Fishtrick twitched her ear. “You can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed. 

Fogpaw inserted herself into their conversation. “If you want, I can give you a charm to help her leg heal properly!” Floodstrike tried not to wince. 

Fishtrick looked Fogpaw up and down with a scathing quirk of her brow and said, “A charm?”

“Yeah, like an item with a spell in it!” Fogpaw continued, seemingly unaware of the warrior’s disdain. “It’ll help the bones grow straight!” Fishtrick glanced at Floodstrike with a tiny laugh through her nose. 

“She’s just goofing around,” he covered for Fogpaw, wrapping an arm around her neck and giving the top of her head a ruffle with his nose. “Always telling jokes about spells and stuff.”

“No, I’m not,” Fogpaw frowned, throwing his lifeline away. “I’m serious, it’ll help.” Floodstrike wanted to scream. 

“I think I’m good,” said Fishtrick in a way that made Floodstrike's skin crawl with embarrassment. She smiled at him with a look that said ‘can you believe this?’ and he laughed instinctively. 

Fogpaw frowned and looked between them with an earnest, “What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Uh, why don’t you go see what Branchbark is up to?”

“But I thought we were gonna hang out,” she said, ears falling backward. 

Floodstrike was acutely aware of Fishtrick’s eyes on him as he replied. “Yeah, well, now I wanna hang out with Fishtrick. I’ll hang out with you later.” Even as he said it he felt guilt wriggling in his stomach and Fogpaw’s pained frown only made it worse. 

“Okay, fine,” she said, stepping backwards out of his embrace. “I didn’t wanna hang out with you anyway.” Floodstrike had to clench his jaw to stop himself from apologizing right then and there. Fogpaw turned away and stormed off into the crowd, hunched low, tail twitching. Once she was out of earshot, Fishtrick laughed. 

“Wow, some cats just can’t take a hint,” she said and the guilt in Floodstrike’s stomach writhed. 

“Yeah,” he swallowed. “I guess.” He would have to apologize to Fogpaw later. 

Fishtrick was already moving on. “Did you hear the kittypets are bringing catmint?” 

“No,” he said, frowning in confusion. “What for?” 

“For fun,” she said. “Like, just to roll around in.”

“Woah, no way.” He couldn’t believe it. His dad had always been so precious with the stuff. The idea of using it so casually was alien to him. 

A sudden cheer went up from the southern edge of the crowd and they both turned their attention towards the sound. 

“That must be them,” Fishtrick sat up taller, grinning. “Come on, let’s go get some!” 

“Okay,” Floodstrike said. He still felt hollow aside from the guilt in his belly but he was willing to try and have some fun. Sticking close to Fishtrick’s tail, he followed her through the gathered cats, weaving through the gaps wherever they could until they hit the thick wall of bodies at the front of the crowd. They could smell the heady smell of the catmint now and the kittypets who had brought it. 

The cats closest to them were eagerly waiting for a chance to move forward but, with his height, Floodstrike could see cats peeling away around the edges of the crowd like water parting around a stone. Their eyes were all blown wide and their energy was higher, more unruly. Excitement started to build in the hollow space within him. 

A cat at the front of the crowd caught his eye and he said, “No way, is that my dad?” 

“Where?” Fishtrick reared up on her hind quarters to follow his gaze. 

“There,” he said, leaning in to point with his nose. “It totally is!” There was Oddstripe, laughing with a face covered in catmint particles. Aldertail was leaning heavily on him as they made their way deeper into the clearing.

“Damn!” laughed Fishtrick, dropping back onto her paws. “Get it, Floodstrike’s dad!” He laughed at her phrasing and shoved her with his shoulder. 

“Don’t be weird,” he said, “He’s still a healer.”

“So?” she flicked her tail in his face. “Everyone knows Stormwhisper broke the code with somebody, what’s stopping your dad? It’s not like he’s never fooled around before.” She jerked her nose at him as if to say ‘you’re proof of that.’

Floodstrike grimaced. “Do not make me think about that.” 

“About what?” she smirked, “about your dad getting all hot and heavy with some handsome stranger?” 

“Stop!” he nearly gagged, “What is wrong with you?” She laughed heartily and he couldn’t help but join in. 

“I’m just teasing, Floodstrike, loosen up! You’re too easy!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

By now they had reached the front of the group and the smell of catmint nearly burned his nose. There were several kittypets, each with their own little pile of it, making sure that everyone got a good roll but didn’t take more than their share. Floodstrike recognized Wes and Schmidt among them but the rest were all strangers. He and Fishtrick shuffled towards a kittypet with a similar pattern to Fishtrick’s -- all white with a rich, chocolate tail -- a flat nose, and a cobby build. 

She waved them forward with a wide grin and said, “You two look like hell!” Floodstrike didn’t know what ‘hell’ was but he glanced down at himself regardless, suddenly reminded of all the blood in his fur. 

“The curse of a white pelt,” Fishtrick laughed. 

“Wish I’d been there!” the kittypet sighed wistfully. “I’m Binx, by the way.”

“Cool,” Fishtrick said in the same voice she had used with Fogpaw. “Can we get some catmint now or…?”

“Oh! Right!” Binx shook her head with a bashful laugh and swept a paw invitingly over the buds spilled out before her. “Help yourself!” Fishtrick glanced back at Floodstrike before flopping onto her side to roll in the herbs indulgently. 

Floodstrike felt awkward just staring at her so he met Binx’s eyes again. “You fight much, Binx?”

“Nah,” she shook her head. “I want to though. I think it’s so cool that you wild cats let girls fight just like boys.” 

“City cats don’t?” he asked with a frown. He went over the battles he had seen in his mind, thinking, surely that can’t be true, and realized with a sudden shock that he hadn’t fought a single female kittypet since they ambushed the hunting encampment. 

“Not really,” Binx shook her head. “You’ve really got to prove you’re tough for anybody to respect you as a fighter if you’re a girl.”

“Weird…” Floodstrike’s gaze fogged distantly only for Fishtrick to startle him out of his thoughts with a playful swat to the face. 

“Floodstrike, you’ve gotta try this!” she said, her pupils big and round. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, giving her a shove and she batted at him until he surrendered and dropped into the catmint. The smell was intoxicating and he quickly lost himself to the simple pleasure of rolling back and forth in the little pile. When he finally remembered himself and sat up, he shook his head sharply.

“Woo!” he cried, a laugh burbling in his chest. 

“What did I tell you!” Fishtrick grinned. “Come on, I bet you can’t catch me.” 

“Oh, yeah?” he smirked, dropping into a crouch in preparation. 

“Yeah.” She dashed around the edge of the crowd, heading for the Cornerstones themselves and he tore after her, laughing. 

Over his shoulder, he distantly registered Binx calling, “O-okay, bye!” 

He wasn’t concerned about that for long though. He felt intensely alive, like he could run to the city and back without stopping, like he could catch a hundred mice or jump the river in a single bound. Fishtrick seemed to feel the same and she led him all the way up the Cornerstones to the top of the leaders’ perch. He pounced for her tail as they reached the summit, giddy and out of breath, and she sprang back at him, knocking them both off the back side of the structure. 

“Woah!” he cried, twisting to land on his feet and she landed right behind him. 

“Fox-dung!” she hissed under her breath, “I think I twisted my paw.”

“Oh, yikes,” he grimaced and leaned in to sniff at the ankle she held tenderly by her chest. “You need to go home?”

“No, it’s fine,” she shook her head. “It's fine. Let’s just take it easy for a bit.” 

“Alright,” he nodded, “fine by me.” 

Another cheer came from the crowd on the other side of the Cornerstones and Snowstar’s voice barely carried above the din. “Eat your fill! Tonight it’s all on SkyClan!” The crowd cheered again, louder this time. 

“That must be Fernspeckle with the prey!” Floodstrike said. 

“Oh, I’m starving,” moaned Fishtrick. “Let’s go get some.” He nodded and they made their way back to the throng which was now clustered tightly around a cluster of SkyClan cats. Eventually, they bumped into Fernspeckle who had a patch of cobwebs over his eye and a heavy perch in his mouth.

“There you guys are!” he grinned, “I was just coming to find you!”

“Give me that!” Fishtrick purred hungrily and snatched the fish’s tail in her teeth, shaking her head and swatting at his face to make him let go. Floodstrike laughed and flopped sideways against her, too overcome with enjoyment to stay upright. 

Fernspeckle dropped the fish with a mildly concerned smile. “Woah, what’s gotten into you two?” 

“Catmint!” Floodstrike grinned, licking the dust of it from his whiskers. “You should try some.” Fishtrick pulled the perch close to her chest and started greedily picking its flesh from its bones, unconcerned with the mass of cats shifting around her. 

“What,” Fernspeckle laughed, “you guys steal some from Stormwhisper while Boldmoth was getting patched up or something?”

“No,” Floodstrike shook his head, “the kittypets brought a ton for everyone!”

“Really?” Fernspeckle’s jaw hung open in surprise. 

“Yes,” Fishtrick said after gulping down her mouthful of food. “Southern side. Go get some.”

“Fox-dung, okay,” Fernspeckle said, backing up towards the southern side. “Save some of that fish for me!”

“No promises!” Fishtrick shouted after him and Floodstrike snorted with laughter, dropping down to have a few bites of his own.

It wasn’t long before Fernspeckle returned and the three of them started reducing the perch to bones in earnest. Floodstrike had never laughed so much in his life or felt more like he belonged than he did in that moment. He wished that Boldmoth could have joined them but knew that navigating the crowd would likely have been a nightmare for her broken leg. 

He was about to suggest they go visit her when a new voice called his name over the noise of the crowd. 

Gaping, he turned and said, “Luna.” There she was, trying to smile at him despite her obvious nerves. She held one paw close to her chest, glancing this way and that whenever a cat bumped against her or spoke too loudly. Floodstrike blinked a few times, trying to make sure he wasn’t imagining her.

“Who?” Fishtrick yelled, trying to hear him over a group that had started singing nearby. 

“Uh,” that galvanized him into action, “guys, this is Luna!” He hopped up and moved to bump his forehead against hers in greeting. Luna smiled and pressed herself against his side so tightly he could feel her heart thumping madly against his ribs.

“There’s so many cats here,” she said, barely audible above the noise. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked at an appropriate volume as he guided her back over to sit with him and his friends. 

Luna cleared her throat and stood up taller as if she had to in order to raise her voice. “I wanted to see you!”

“Oo-ooh!” Fishtrick taunted and Fernspeckle joined in. 

“Shut up,” he laughed, smacking Fernspeckle hard in the face. He rolled away from the strike and swatted lazily back at Floodstrike. 

“Wow,” Luna breathed, “you wild cats are so rowdy!” 

“You kittypets are boring,” Fishtrick snapped back and Luna’s silky soft fur fluffed up around her. 

“Luna,” Floodstrike said, hoping to move past that, “this is my friend Fishtrick. That idiot there is Fernspeckle.” 

“Who you calling an idiot?” Fernspeckle frowned jokingly. 

“You, moron!” Fishtrick rolled her eyes and swatted at him. Floodstrike laughed, settling down onto his side. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Luna said politely, still struggling to raise her voice. 

“How did you two meet?” asked Fernspeckle.

“She was there when we went to find Songdust,” said Floodstrike as he laid his tail gently against hers. Luna blushed and preened under the touch, sinking down to lay against his side. He purred, struck with how amazing it felt in that moment. He even leaned over to rub his head against hers. 

“Wow,” Fishtrick grinned impishly, “you RisingClanners sure love your kittypets, huh?” 

“Do not,” Floodstrike blurted immediately, then, remembering Luna, added, “I mean- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Fernspeckle laughed outright.

Grinning smugly, Fishtrick sing-songed, “Floodstrike and Luna down by the river, give ‘em two moons and she will deliver!” 

“What are you saying,” Floodstrike blustered, ears pressed back against his head. Was that a common song in EarthClan or was she just loopy on catmint?

“You know what I’m saying,” she said, leaning in with a snarky wobble of her head. “First Russetfrond, now you. Stars, Goldenstar’s got her own kittypet too, doesn’t she?” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Floodstrike dismissed her with an annoyed flick of his ear. 

“Isn’t that weirdo, Fogpaw, half-kittypet too?” she pressed. Floodstrike’s stomach dropped into a pit of guilt again.

“No, just half-city cat,” Fernspeckle said, squinting as if he was thinking very hard. “They’re not all kittypets.” 

“Guys, stop being horseflies,” Floodstrike said, wanting to squirm. “We’re just friends.” 

“Oh,” said Luna, sounding like she was trying to sound unconcerned. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re just friends.”

That caught Floodstrike off guard. “Oh, are we- Did you not-” He searched her face, suddenly worried he had been a jerk and she waved him off with a paw, blushing shyly.

“Oh, no, no, it’s- it’s fine I just thought, since we were having kits together, you know-”

“We’re what?” Floodstrike gaped as his friends hollered wildly at his expense.

“Yo!” Fernspeckle bellowed, holding back laughter.

Fishtrick cackled and rolled onto her back, pointing a vindicated paw at Floodstrike. “What did I tell you! They’re crazy for kittypets out there!” 

Floodstrike tried to tune them out as he asked Luna, “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course,” she nodded and they both stood. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said distractedly to his friends, wrapping his tail over Luna’s back to guide her away. 

“Don’t take too long!” Fishtrick jeered.

“Or do!” snorted Fernspeckle. Floodstrike ducked his head, cheeks burning, and shoved his way through the crowd until they broke out into the chilly woods. 

Luna spoke first. “Oh, Floodstrike, I’m so sorry! That wasn’t how I wanted to tell you, I- I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much!”

“It’s- It’s fine,” he said, trying to force his racing mind to focus on her face. “But, wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, pursing her lips against the smile spreading across her face. “Isn’t it wonderful?” 

That hadn’t exactly been his first thought. “I- yeah, I guess so- I just- I feel like-” Like she was springing this on him? Like they had both understood that they were just friends? With a sinking feeling, he realized that he had never had that talk about expectations with her like Goldenstar had suggested. “I didn’t realize you felt that way about me.”

“You didn’t?” blinked Luna. “I thought I was being pretty obvious.” She pouted and dragged her paw through the pine needles on the ground despondently.

“Well- I mean,” Floodstrike blushed and smoothed his chest fur down with his tongue, “I knew you wanted to have sex with me, I just didn’t realize you wanted more than that.” 

“Well, of course I do!” Luna looked hurt. “That’s what sex is for, isn’t it? Having kits?”

He puffed up at her tone, extremely confused. “I thought the twolegs- err, your Folk took them away! It’s not like we’re going to raise them together.” 

“It’s still a big commitment!” she said, eyes big and round and glistening with the start of tears. “You made me a woman, you’re supposed to take care of me now!” 

“I what?!” He couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the statement. 

“I thought you were honorable,” she sniffled. “I didn’t think you were some- some ruffian who would use me up and leave me behind!” She was starting to cry now, her expression crumpling with despair and he stepped in to rub his head against hers despite his confusion. 

“Hey,” he said, “I’m not trying to abandon you or anything, I’m just confused, okay?” She pressed her head firmly against his, seeming to take comfort in his touch which was a relief. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she sniffled wetly.

“It’s alright,” he sighed. After another moment he sat back and said, “I’m gonna go grab Goldenstar real quick, okay?”

“Goldenstar?” she sniffed hard to pull a bead of snot back up into her nose. “Wh-why?” She fluffed up again, looking suddenly very worried and he shook his head to reassure her.

“No, it's okay, we’re not in trouble or anything, she’s just really good at this kind of stuff -- talking about it I mean -- and I think she’ll be able to help us like… actually communicate, y’know?” 

“Okay…” Luna nodded slowly. She was definitely unsure but Floodstrike was certain that bringing Goldenstar in on the conversation would make everything so much easier. 

“Just stay right here, I’ll be back in a flash.” He gave her one more firm press of his head and then bounded back towards the crowd to try and find Goldenstar. It took a bit of time, some asking around, but he eventually found her lounging near the area where the catmint had been given out with Scorchplume, Yarrowshade, and a pair of kittypets, including Wes. The other was a chocolate tortoiseshell who seemed to have fallen asleep. 

Goldenstar was purring loudly against Scorchplume’s side as Floodstrike approached, Yarrowshade flopped against hers. He almost felt bad interrupting them but he knew he needed her help right now. 

“Uh, Goldenstar?” he asked, hovering closeby. “Can I borrow you for a little bit?” 

Goldenstar paused her purring to sit up and stare at him. It took a long beat before she managed to speak. “Oh, Floodstrike. Sure, what’s up?” She stood, dislodging Yarrowshade who moaned in protest, reaching out for her with his forepaws. 

“It’s Luna,” he said, “she came to see me and I, uh, need your help talking to her.”

“Luna?” Wes’s ears perked, his expression suddenly focused. “Is somethin’ wrong?”

“Um, it’s complicated,” he said, shuffling his paws. “It’s about the stuff we were talking about earlier?” He winced at Goldenstar, hoping she got the message. 

She seemed to, understanding dawning in her massive pupils. “Oh. Alright, sure. I’ll be back in a bit, guys.” 

“Aww, okay,” Yarrowshade pouted, scooting to snuggle up against Scorchplume instead. 

“You big baby,” Scorchplume shoved half-heartedly at his face. 

“I’m comin’ too,” Wes said, rising to his feet. “I need to make sure Miss Luna is okay.”

“Okay,” Floodstrike said, his mouth suddenly very dry. “She’s just out behind the cornerstones right now.” Wes started off towards the forest immediately and Floodstrike glanced at Goldenstar worriedly before hurrying after. 

When they arrived, Luna flushed with embarrassment. “Wes! What are you doing here?”

“I heard you were here,” he said, moving to sniff at her. “Is everythin’ alright?”

“It’s fine,” she said, clearly still a bit upset from earlier. 

“What did you need my help with?” Goldenstar asked Floodstrike, blinking sluggishly at him. 

“Well, you know how you said I ought to talk with Luna about, like… expectations and things?” he said. “I kind of… forgot. And now we’re kind of talking past each other and I thought you could help.”

“Expectations?” Wes frowned. 

“Yes,” Goldenstar nodded, “for their relationship.” She seemed mildly disappointed and Floodstrike felt his shoulders sagging apologetically. 

“Their relationship?” Wes repeated again, this time sounding suspicious. 

“Mhm,” said Luna. “Floodstrike and I are mates now.”

“What?” Wes looked at her in shock before he quickly pivoted to fixing Floodstrike with a stern glare. 

“That’s the problem,” Floodstrike said, “I thought we were just friends!”

“But we-” Luna pouted on the verge of tears again. “We were… intimate. Just friends don’t do that!” She blushed again, glancing at Wes. His presence seemed to be extremely uncomfortable for her. Wes scowled at Floodstrike as if he had threatened her.  

“Sure they do,” Floodstrike felt extremely confused again. 

“I think I see the issue,” Goldenstar sighed. “The city has very different ideas about intimacy than we do so you both have very different understandings of what it meant when you had sex.” Luna blushed brightly at the phrase. 

“Miss Luna,” Wes said, “if this young man took advantage of you-”

“No, no!” Luna shook her head fervently, “It was my idea, I promise!” She reached up on her tiptoes to try and get onto Wes’s eye level. “I practically had to beg him, please don’t be mad.” 

Wes frowned, his eyes twitching over her face for a good long moment before he sighed and said, “Alright. I just wish you’d thought about this more. This kinda thing, it has- it’s not to be done lightly.” 

“So, Luna,” Goldenstar cut back in, trying to smile invitingly, “I’m gonna start by asking you about what you think your relationship with Floodstrike means, then I’m going to ask him what he thinks. I want you both to try not to interrupt the other while they’re talking. I’m going to help you sort things out once you’ve both had a chance to talk, okay?” 

“Okay,” Luna nodded, chewing her lip. Floodstrike nodded too, trying to take a deep slow breath. Goldenstar was here. It was going to be alright. 

“Great,” said Goldenstar, settling down and curling her tail over her paws. “So tell me, when you imagined how things would go, what did it look like?”

Luna sniffled and shuffled her paws and said, “Well, I mean, I thought he was going to be there for me, like a proper mate, especially since… um…” She glanced sidelong at Wes with big wet eyes. 

“Since…?” Goldenstar prompted. 

“Since I’m… well…” Luna looked away, blushing again. 

“Pregnant,” Floodstrike said, just wanting to get this awkwardness over with already. Wes’s scowl darkened again. 

“I see,” Goldenstar frowned too. Now it was Floodstrike’s turn to wilt in shame. “When you say ‘a proper mate’ what does that mean to you?”

“I don’t know,” Luna shrugged defensively, “He’d bring me food, protect me, we’d be best friends. And I’d raise the kits and support him.” She shrugged again. “And, I don’t know, maybe he might eventually come to live with me and my Folk.”

That hit Floodstrike like a monster. “What?!” The idea was borderline offensive! “I’m not gonna be a kittypet!” Luna’s lip quivered and Wes laid his tail protectively over her back, still scowling. 

“Floodstrike, let’s calm down a bit, okay?” said Goldenstar. “Why don’t you tell me what you were picturing?”

Floodstrike shrugged. “Uh, I don’t know,” he said, looking guiltily at Luna, “I thought we were just having fun. I didn’t realize it was, like… serious.” 

Wes sighed. “These things are very serious, son.” Floodstrike balked at the term but Wes continued. “It ain’t honorable to take advantage of a lady like that.” 

“But I didn’t take advantage of her!” he protested, “She said so already!” Goldenstar laid her tail over one of his paws but it wasn’t enough to stop him from getting worked up. How was he the bad guy here?

“You might not have meant to,” said Wes, “but usin’ a girl for pleasure and then leavin’ her t’deal with the consequences on her own, it ain’t right.” 

“Like I said,” Goldenstar seemed to be making an effort to stay the calm one in the situation, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. In the Clans, there’s no shame in having casual sex like that, especially not shame that falls more on any one gender. Plenty of cats raise kits on their own and are happy to do so. Stars, Ospreymask has been trying to get pregnant for moons and she’s never had any interest in a long term partner.”

“Well, that’s swell for her,” Wes said, starting to bristle, “but it ain’t like that in the city. Havin’ kits is a commitment. Cats who fool around are…” he stopped himself, as if he’d just remembered Luna was listening to him. “It’s irresponsible to treat somethin’ so sacred as a… a cheap thrill!” He twitched an ear to shake off the idea which had clearly unsettled him. 

“Sacred?” Floodstrike was even more confused now. 

“Yes, sacred!” Luna sniffled, “It’s a holy bond! A gift from the Folk!”

“That’s crazy!” Floodstrike laughed in disbelief. 

“Floodstrike,” Goldenstar didn’t manage to interrupt him in time and grimaced. “Let’s be respectful. Clearly this is very important to them.” 

“It is,” sniffled Luna. “I thought you were gonna take care of me a-and our kits!”

“And I’m sure Floodstrike is very sorry that he didn’t communicate his intentions clearly from the start, right?” Goldenstar looked back at him with a prompting nod. 

“Yeah,” he said, feeling like a leaf drifting down the river. “I’m really sorry, Luna.” 

“But you’re not going to step up and do the right thing,” Wes said, a statement more than a question. 

“The ‘right thing’ is subjective,” Goldenstar frowned. “If there’s something specific that Luna needs, maybe Floodstrike can help with it, but he shouldn’t have to commit to a relationship just because he got her pregnant.” 

Luna started crying again and Wes pulled her close against his side with a defensive glare at the Clan cats. “I’m disappointed in you,” he said, “both of you. I thought you were better than this.”

“Floodstrike was careless,” Goldenstar said firmly, “but he isn’t being cruel. Relationships are messy. It’s an unfortunate situation but you can’t expect him to agree to a commitment he didn’t realize was expected of him.” 

“I guess not,” scoffed Wes. “Come on, Miss Luna, let me walk you home.”

“O-okay,” Luna cried into his shoulder, staring at Floodstrike with the most miserable expression he’d ever seen. Despite Goldenstar’s insistence that he wasn’t doing anything wrong in the moment, his stomach still writhed with guilt like he’d swallowed angry snakes. Goldenstar let out a disappointed sigh as the two kittypets disappeared into the undergrowth. 

“I’m sorry it went down like that, bud,” she said. 

“It’s my own fault for not talking about it beforehand,” he sighed. 

“Well, she should have done the same,” said Goldenstar. “You share the blame equally and you shouldn’t beat yourself up about it. They’re making this into a way bigger deal than it has to be.” 

“Why, though?” he looked at her with pleading eyes. “Why are they so… weird about this stuff in the city?! First they have rules about only being mates with ‘opposite genders’ and now they’re acting like we broke some kind of code just because I don’t wanna become a kittypet or whatever!” 

“I don’t know, bud,” sighed Goldenstar again. “They’ve got some… complicated traditions, to be sure. Come on, let’s go back to the celebration. You’ll feel better when you’re with friends.” 

Floodstrike hesitated. “I dunno. Fishtrick and Fernspeckle are gonna tease me so bad. I think I’m just gonna go home.” 

“If you’re sure…” she said with a sympathetic smile. 

“Yeah, I am,” he said. The break in festivities had left enough room for thoughts about Lakepaw to slip back into his mind and the idea of going right back to pretending like everything was fine just felt wrong. 

“Alright,” she said, rubbing her nose against his ear. “You let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“I will.” He took the long way around the crowd, tail dragging in the dirt. The laughter and celebration around him only served to make him feel more alone. He had no doubt Fishtrick was going to tell every cat she could about the news. He wanted to peel his skin off in embarrassment. 

And he wanted to make Luna understand that it was gonna be okay. He didn’t want her to think of him as some kind of deadbeat like Ghost. He liked her! He just didn’t like her enough to be exclusive or anything. Was that so wrong? Should he at least try it, for her sake?

The thoughts were clouding around his head as he walked through the ferns until a voice shook him from his stupor. 

“Floodstrike? Why are you sad?”

He looked up to find Fogpaw trailing after him. “Oh, uh…” He swallowed and said, “I dunno. Lots of reasons.”

“Oh.” Fogpaw said. There was a pause, then, “Do you want me to walk with you?” 

“Yeah,” Floodstrike said, realizing he did as he said it. He stretched out his tail in invitation and she trotted quickly to affix herself to his side. 

“Man, when did you get so big?” he groaned. 

“I’m almost twelve moons old!” she laughed. “Why does everyone keep forgetting?” 

“‘Cause we don’t wanna think about how old we’re getting.” 

“You’re not that old,” she scrunched her nose in confusion. “You’re barely half a year older than me.” 

“Ew!” he groaned even louder. “Don’t remind me!” 

She laughed again and rammed her head against his shoulder fondly. They walked in silence for a moment, the noise of the celebration fading behind them. 

His smile faded too and he eventually managed to say, “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier, with Fishtrick. I shouldn’t have sent you away.”

“Why did you?” she asked quietly. 

“‘Cause…” How could he say this without hurting her feelings? “‘Cause I’m dumb and I didn’t want you to embarrass me in front of Fishtrick.”

“Why would I embarrass you?” she frowned. 

He grimaced again. “I dunno, Fishtrick just likes to laugh at people and I didn’t want her to laugh at me because I’m friends with you.”

“But why would she do that?” Fogpaw pressed. “Is that what was funny before? Were you guys laughing at me?” 

“Yeah,” he said and cleared his throat to try and get rid of the lump in it. “I’m sorry, Fogpaw. That was fox-hearted of me.” He couldn’t look at her, only on the stones that were starting to replace the undergrowth as they neared the river crossing. 

After a long quiet moment, she said, “It’s okay. I forgive you.” 

He let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, kiddo.”

“I’m not a kid,” she huffed and he laughed again. 

“Maybe not technically,” he said, “but you’ll always be younger than me and that makes you a kiddo.”

“That’s dumb,” snorted Fogpaw. “If I’m a kiddo, then you’re an elder.” 

“Ew! Do not call me that!”

“Whatever you say, old man,” she smiled innocently and he shook his head with laughter.

“Dammit, your mentor taught you too well.” 

The RisingClan cats - her, Slatepaw, Floodpaw, Pantherhaze, Scorchplume, Goldenstar, Russetfrond, and Sagetooth - emerged from the trees into the clearing. Fogpaw made an awe-filled sound of wonder at the sight of the Cornerstones towering up ahead. A white she-cat and a ginger one were sitting on top, bathed in moonlight, their deputies conversing on the rubble beneath them. Goldenstar whispered something to Scorchplume and then went to join them. 

Floodpaw was moving to meet a group of cats who looked close to his age and Fogpaw decided to follow him. Slatepaw followed her, both of them trailing after Floodpaw like ducklets. 

“Have fun and be respectful!” Pantherhaze called after them.

“We will!” squeaked Slatepaw. 

“Hey!” A pale, spotted tabby looked up as Floodpaw approached. “Floodpaw, how’s it going?”

“Great,” purred Floodpaw, “We’ve got some big news tonight. I’m excited for you to hear it.” 

“Ooh, well now I’m invested,” he grinned. 

“You’ve got some kittens stuck to your fur,” said a white she-cat with a ginger striped tail. The ginger cat wearing moth wings next to her smiled in a way that struck Fogpaw as mysterious.

“Oh,” Floodpaw turned to look at them and grimaced a little. “Right, uh, this is Fogpaw and Slatepaw.”

“Hi!” Fogpaw grinned. Slatepaw pressed into her side nervously. 

Floodpaw continued, “Uh, guys, these are my friends.” The white cat huffed a mean laugh. “Boldmoth and Fishtrick are from EarthClan and Fernpaw is from SkyClan.” 

“It’s Fernspeckle now!” beamed the spotted tabby. 

“Aw, really?” frowned Floodpaw. “I mean, congrats, but I was sure I was gonna get my name before you!” 

“Having a leader as your mother has its perks,” Fernspeckle laughed. 

“An admission you graduated before you were ready,” Fishtrick hummed. 

“You’ll get your name soon,” Boldmoth said, looking at Floodpaw. 

“Thanks,” he blushed under her cool, golden gaze.  

“Your mom is the leader?” Fogpaw asked loudly. Floodpaw and his friends all winced. 

“Yeah,” said Fernspeckle, “Snowstar’s my mother.” 

“That’s so cool,” Fogpaw said seriously. “My mom’s dead.” Fernspeckle froze in surprise. Fishtrick raised a brow skeptically. Boldmoth frowned sympathetically.

“Hey, uh,” Floodpaw said quickly, “Look, there’s an apprentice your age, why don’t you guys go talk to him?” FallenClan had arrived and Fogpaw followed Floodpaw’s gaze to a pale ginger tom who looked just a little bit older than her and Slatepaw settling down beside a warrior with brown points. 

“Oh, okay,” she said, wilting a little. She couldn’t help but feel like Floodpaw didn’t want her around. Still, she was interested in making a new friend so she looked at Slatepaw and said, “Come on, let’s go say hi!” Slatepaw gave a worried noise through pursed lips and glanced over at Floodpaw’s friends before nodding. Fogpaw started to make her way through the crowd, Slatepaw pressed against her side.

Behind her, she heard Floodpaw say, “Yikes, sorry about that, guys.” She sighed a little. 

“Fogpaw, why did you say that?” Slatepaw asked quietly. 

“Huh?” she asked, looking over. “Say what?” 

“You know,” Slatepaw chewed her lip worriedly. “About mama.” 

“Oh,” Fogpaw shrugged. She had already forgotten about that. “Cause it’s true?” 

“Right,” Slatepaw said softly. Fogpaw frowned, confused. Shaking her head, she decided to ignore it and focus on meeting this new apprentice. 

As they drew close, she raised her tail and said, “Hi there! I’m Fogpaw and this is my sister Slatepaw! What’s your name?” The apprentice looked over at her apprehensively. 

Beside him, his mentor smiled and said, “I’m Duskstep and this is Lionpaw. We’re from FallenClan.” He nudged Lionpaw’s leg gently.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Lionpaw, barely audible but in a listless way, not like Slatepaw’s nervous whispering. It was like he didn’t have the energy to speak any louder. Fogpaw immediately decided that he seemed extremely boring. She glanced back over to where Floodpaw was joking with his friends and wished she could just go back and hang out with them. 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” smiled Slatepaw as they sat down. “Do you know Poppybird?”

“Yes,” purred Duskstep, “she’s our Clan’s mediator.” 

“She was friends with our mama,” Slatepaw said. “She comes and visits us sometimes.” 

“That’s nice,” said Duskstep. 

“She mentioned you,” said Slatepaw, looking at Lionpaw. He sat up a little straighter and blinked at her. Fogpaw yawned. 

“She did?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Slatepaw said. “We asked her about the kits in FallenClan and she talked about you.” Fogpaw groaned and stood to go find someone else to sit with. She wasn’t going to stay here and listen to boring small talk all gathering. 

“W- Fogpaw, where are you going?” asked Slatepaw. 

“I dunno,” Fogpaw shrugged, “to find Scorchplume or something.” 

“Oh, okay…” Slatepaw frowned. Fogpaw wasn’t sure why she was upset but it annoyed her. Huffling she turned and stomped away. 

The meeting was packed. Fogpaw hadn’t seen this many cats since they had gathered in camp for the big battle. The noise of it made her hackles prickle unconsciously. She reared onto her hind legs to try and spot her mentor’s bright ginger pelt. It was difficult with the height of the other cats. She padded a bit to the side to try and find a better vantage point, then someone right next to her spoke, throwing her off guard.

“Oh! Look at that!” said a she-cat nearby. Fogpaw looked on instinct and realized the grey tabby was looking right at her. 

“Uh…” She glanced around to make sure there wasn’t something else the cat could be looking at. 

“I know that pelt,” continued the cat. “You look just like the old tom Snowstar was fighting in the snowstorm battle!”

“Really?” asked the brown tabby next to her. This one narrowed her eyes at Fogpaw, making her want to squirm. “One of the rogues?” 

“Yes, exactly,” said the first cat. “Hello there, kit, what’s your name?” Fogpaw swallowed. At least they were talking to her now instead of about her. 

“Fogpaw,” she said. “Who are you?”

“I’m Greyvoice,” said the first cat with a smile, “and this is Perchingcall. Please, why don’t you come sit with us?” 

“Um, okay,” said Fogpaw. The idea that two grown ups wanted her to sit with them was exciting. Smiling, she settled down near them. 

Greyvoice scooted closer to her and said, “This is your first gathering, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” nodded Fogpaw. “I got apprenticed last week!”

“That’s so exciting,” purred Greyvoice, attentive and warm. Perchingcall smiled too but it didn’t feel right to Fogpaw. “You’re, um, Smokyrose’s kit, right?” 

“Yeah,” Fogpaw nodded again. 

“Such a shame about her, by the way,” Greyvoice frowned briefly. “I hope you’re doing alright.” 

“I’m fine,” said Fogpaw. Her tail tip twitched a bit - she hated when cats pitied her - but Greyvoice moved on quickly so she let it go.

“I’m so curious though,” said Greyvoice, “I mean, I’ve only heard rumors, so I have to ask: Is it true your father is the rogues’ deputy?” 

“Um,” Fogpaw screwed her mouth to the side as she thought. “I think so. His name’s Ghost. He’s the reason our mom is dead.” Or something like that. No one would tell her for certain what had happened. She had been forced to glean a few details from overheard conversations. 

Greyvoice and Perchingcall at least didn’t get those weird, surprised expressions on their faces like Floodpaw's friends had. Perchingcall frowned like she wanted to tear Ghost’s pelt and Greyvoice let out a soft little noise of sympathy.

“That’s terrible,” said Greyvoice. “What do you mean, he’s the reason why? I only heard that she had died, I didn’t hear what happened.” 

“And you won’t,” said Scorchplume, appearing suddenly behind Fogpaw. Her sharp blue eyes were narrowed at Greyvoice as she said, “Fogpaw get up. You’re going to come sit with me.” 

“But-” Fogpaw bristled in protest, “But I was just making friends!” 

“We don’t make friends with other Clans,” Scorchplume scowled, still not looking at her. “A warrior should know better.” Her words felt pointed at Greyvoice, just as sharp as her eyes. Fogpaw frowned and got to her feet. 

“Fine,” she grumbled. Maybe her spell had been wrong and Scorchplume wasn’t a good mentor. 

Greyvoice preened her chest a bit and said, “Well I’m fine considering us friends, Fogpaw. Maybe I’ll see you some other time.” 

Scorchplume growled a warning. “Stay away from my apprentice, Greyvoice.” The warrior in question huffed irritably but made no further comments. Scorchplume nudged Fogpaw towards the back of the crowd, saying, “That way.” 

“I’m going!” Fogpaw griped, stomping off. When they were nearing the back of the crowd, she added, “What was that for? I thought Russetfrond was the one who’s all ‘don’t talk to anybody ever!’” She bobbled her head and deepened her voice as she imitated him. 

Scorchplume flicked her tail and wrapped it around Fogpaw to urge her to sit. “Oh, I don’t care about talking to other Clans,” she said, and Fogpaw’s mouth fell open in confusion.

“Then, what-”

“Greyvoice was taking advantage of you,” said Scorchplume simply. “She doesn’t actually want to be your friend, she just wants to know the gossip about your father.” 

“Wait, really?” Fogpaw’s ears slid back against her head. She hadn’t been able to tell at all. Her stomach turned into a heavy, nauseous lump.

“Mhm,” said Scorchplume, glancing sideways at her. “I’m not going to let someone like that take advantage of my apprentice.” Her voice caught in her throat on the word, a growl that made Fogpaw feel like Scorchplume would fight a lion for her.

“But, then, why did you lie?” asked Fogpaw. 

Scorchplume glanced around as if making sure no one could hear before she said softly, “It’s better if I let her think I haven’t noticed what she actually wants. That way, she underestimates me. That way, I have the advantage next time we meet.” Fogpaw’s eyes were as wide and round as the moon. “So I got you out without tipping her off. I hope I wasn’t too harsh.”

“No, that’s amazing!” Fogpaw breathed. “It’s like magic! You have to teach me!” 

Scorchplume’s eyes flickered over her again, a tiny smile poking at the corners of her mouth. “It would be my pleasure,” she said. Fogpaw grinned, kneading the dirt with her paws. The spell had definitely worked. 

“Where do we start?” she asked. 

“Well-”

Snowstar’s voice boomed over the crowd. “Alright! I think it’s about time we got started!” The assembled cats hushed each other and fell quiet. 

“The first step,” Scorchplume spoke quickly and quietly, like she was giving Fogpaw an urgent secret, “is to figure out what cats want. Once you master that, you can start using it to your advantage.”

“Got it,” Fogpaw whispered back. 

“As a bit of good news to start off with,” Snowstar continued, “SkyClan welcomes a new warrior, the first of the kits to have survived Red Gut! Fernspeckle has shown himself to be a cat with a quick tongue and a quicker wit and we are beyond proud to have him among our ranks!” 

“She’s Fernspeckle’s mom,” Fogpaw whispered to Scorchplume.

Scorchplume raised a brow in interest. “Good to know.” 

When the crowd finished chanting Fernspeckle’s name, Snowstar said, “As well, Newleaf has been kind to us. Prey is flowing well and we are happy to continue sharing with our less fortunate neighbors if need be.” 

“What does Snowstar want?” Scorchplume whispered to Fogpaw. 

“Um… I don’t know.” Fogpaw shrugged. How was she supposed to be able to tell from that?

“She wants to be seen as strong and generous,” answered Scorchplume. “See the way she’s offering to help us like it makes her special? Sometimes what a cat wants is to look a certain way to other people. Remember that.” Fogpaw hummed as she nodded. This was harder than she had expected. 

“It’s most appreciated,” Orangestar said, voice wobbling tiredly. 

“Yes,” Goldenstar agreed, much firmer, “but RisingClan would like to be self-sufficient again as soon as possible. It is in that vein that I would like to propose another alliance, like the one we made for the battle of the snowstorm.” 

“Has there been another prophecy?” Snowstar asked. 

“No,” Goldenstar said, “but we have a plan.” She stood and raised her tail confidently and none of the other leaders tried to interrupt her so she continued. “It has recently come to my attention that Razor, the leader of the rogues, is interested in a one on one meeting with me. This meeting will almost certainly be a trap in which he intends to kill me, who he believes to be the Clans’ only leader. We will give him this meeting but we will spring a trap of our own instead!” 

RisingClan’s warriors and a few other Clan cats cheered in response. Scorchplume stayed silent so Fogpaw did the same. 

“And you need our help to do so,” said Flightstar as if he’d caught her trying to sneak it past him. 

“Yes,” said Goldenstar. “RisingClan alone won’t be able to stand against Razor but together we will most definitely be able to overpower him and put an end to this war.” 

“Then SkyClan will be there,” said Snowstar. “We would see this conflict put to rest for the good of every Clan.” 

“FallenClan as well,” said Flightstar with a twitch of his ear. “Where there’s a fight to be fought you will find the warriors of the deep woods.” A few FallenClan cats crowed proudly. 

“What does Flightstar want?” Scorchplume whispered again. 

“Um… is it to look a certain way?” asked Fogpaw.

“Mhm.” 

“Um… He wants to look brave?” 

“Good,” purred Scorchplume. “He wants to look brave and strong and to tell everyone that they couldn’t beat him if they tried.” 

“Huh,” Fogpaw squinted up at him. That made sense, she thought. 

“What about EarthClan?” Goldenstar asked, looking at Orangestar. “We were hoping to use the edge of your forest for the meeting spot, to help hide our warriors and provide a terrain advantage.” 

Orangestar shifted and nodded. “Yes. EarthClan will stand by you. StarClan willing, this is the final battle of this war.” 

“StarClan willing,” nodded Snowstar. 

“Excellent,” Goldenstar said. “I will reach out to you to pick the location of the ambush. After that, I’ll send for a meeting with the leaders and things will be put into motion.” She shifted her posture to something a little more open and said, “In other news, we have two new apprentices with us today, Fogpaw and Slatepaw.” 

Fogpaw jumped to her feet and stood up tall so everyone could see her. A few cats tossed glances her way. She noticed Greyvoice among them. Scorchplume’s tail swished over her back, urging her to sit, and she did. The meeting moved on. The other Clans had very little news to share and soon after, RisingClan was heading home. 

“Thanks for teaching me,” Fogpaw said as she padded with Scorchplume to join the others.

“It’s my job isn’t it?” asked her mentor.

“Yeah, but I don’t think this is part of normal warrior stuff. I knew you were special.” 

Barleypaw was staying behind, as expected, but she had specifically asked to stay and protect Smokyrose and the kittens. 

“You won’t need to,” Floodpaw had said, “We’re going to beat the rogues, easy. The prophecy said so.” 

“It never hurts to be safe,” Yarrowshade had said. 

Floodpaw wasn’t sure how much he agreed with that but he’d forgotten about it easily enough when the other Clans started gathering in their camp. EarthClan was first. Floodpaw scrambled out of the apprentices’ den when he heard them. Orangestar and Darkmoon were there, along with three warriors he had met before on patrols. He also spotted Fishpaw and Boldpaw among the crowd and he hurried across the clearing to talk with them. Fishpaw wasn’t interested in conversation but Boldpaw sat and humored him which made Floodpaw swell with pride. 

Shortly after, FallenClan arrived with Flightstar, his deputy Pigeoncover, and three other warriors. Flightstar immediately ducked into Goldenstar’s den to talk with the other leaders but unlike the EarthClan cats, FallenClan didn’t mingle at all with RisingClan’s warriors. Floodpaw frowned. 

“Can you believe they almost didn’t show up?” he asked Boldpaw. 

Fishpaw looked over and said, “I can. FallenClan are a bunch of heartless snakes.” 

“They are?” he asked, squinting at the cluster of cats, two of which looked very similar to himself. 

“Flightstar at least is bad news,” Boldpaw said. “Darkmoon says the patrols have only gotten more standoffish since he took over.” 

“Huh,” Floodpaw said. He used to think that Flightstar was a strong and admirable warrior but now he wasn’t sure. What was a warrior without concern for others? Even he knew how important that was! 

Soon after, Snowstar, Tangletooth, Coyotechaser, and four other SkyClan warriors arrived along with Fernpaw who bounded over when Floodpaw waved at him. 

“Hey!” he grinned, joining them. “You guys ready to tear some rogue pelts?” 

“Definitely!” Floodpaw nodded, kneading the ground with his claws. 

“Shouldn’t be long now,” Boldpaw said. “Everyone’s here.”

“Who all from RisingClan is coming?” asked Fernpaw, looking around.

“Um,” Floodpaw tried to remember. “Me, Sparrowpaw… Goldenstar and Russetfrond, of course, and then Ospreymask, Branchbark, and I think Pantherhaze?” 

“Okay, not bad,” Fernpaw said, looking around.

“So everyone is bringing more warriors than FallenClan, then,” Fishpaw scoffed. 

“I heard they’re the smallest Clan there is,” Fernpaw said. “They don’t even have any apprentices or anything.” 

Floodpaw flicked an ear dismissively. “Who cares,” he said, “We’re all going to battle together! I can’t wait.” They didn’t have to wait long, which was a good thing, given the snow. After a few more minutes, the leaders emerged and Goldenstar jumped onto the Stoneperch to call a meeting. 

“Warriors!” she cried, and everyone fell silent. “We’re finally ready to drive these city rogues from our territory once and for all!” The cats cheered and Floodpaw joined in as loudly as he could. The energy was intoxicating, all of their bodies gathered in the little camp, hearts beating in time, their purpose aligned. He felt like a part of something bigger than himself and it was amazing. 

Goldenstar continued, “StarClan is with us today and our victory has been foreseen! All we need to do is follow through. Thank you all for joining us in this endeavor. It would not be possible without you and for that Orangestar and I are grateful.” Flightstar and Snowstar puffed up a little, looking proud of themselves, although Flightstar was the only one wearing a smirk. 

“Here’s the plan:” said Goldenstar. “We attack in two waves. The first wave will be led by Snowstar and made up of cats with pale coats. We’ll call them the Stoat Group. They’ll blend into the snow and advance stealthily, making way for the rest of us to follow. The second group, who we’ll call Eagle Group, will follow in their pawsteps about four fox-lengths behind.”

Snowstar lifted her voice and said, “Stoat Group will make the first approach, assess the rogue camp, and then attack. Once Eagle Group hears signs of combat, they’ll move in as well.”

Goldenstar nodded, looking a little perturbed. “Stoat Group will be Snowstar, Charredbranch, Pebblefall, Fernpaw, Bogmist, Fishpaw, Pigeoncover, Tumblefang, and Floodpaw.” Floodpaw gasped. He was going to be a part of the first attack? And without anyone else from RisingClan with him? He couldn’t believe it. “Everyone else, you’re with Eagle Group. Are there any questions?” 

No one spoke up, instead looking around to identify the cats they would be fighting side by side with. Floodpaw bumped shoulders with Fernpaw excitedly and Fernpaw grinned back. 

“Alright then,” said Flightstar, standing up. “Let’s form up and move out. Good hunting!” A few of the cats cheered but Floodpaw noticed Goldenstar frown. 

“I’m gonna check in with my mentor,” he said, “and then I’ll be right back, okay?” 

“Okay!” Fernpaw nodded. Floodpaw jumped up and bounded over to the food of the Stoneperch just as Goldenstar jumped down. 

“Hey,” he said, “Thanks for letting me go with Stoat Group!” 

Goldenstar looked down at him and a smile spread over her worried expression. “They need all the cats they can get and you’ve got the right coloring,” she said. “Just be careful. Stay close to the other warriors and don’t let the rogues overwhelm you. We’ll be right behind you but there’s probably going to be a good few seconds where you’re outnumbered.” 

“Got it,” he said, nodding. “I’ll see you there then.” 

“Good luck, kid,” Goldenstar purred, butting her head against his. He pressed up into her touch and then turned to go find Stoat Group. Before he got too far, he ran into Sparrowpaw. 

“Hey,” Sparrowpaw said, stepping in front of him, “Be safe out there, okay?” 

“Yeah,” Floodpaw said, “you too.” 

Sparrowpaw smiled. “Will do.” Floodpaw rubbed up against his brother fondly, then hurried towards Stoat Group. Luckily, nothing else got in his way and soon enough he was standing in a circle of mostly white cats, belly deep in the snow. It was almost surreal. He didn’t think he’d seen this many cats like him in one place all his life. 

“Alright,” said Snowstar, as he and Bogmist joined the huddle, “that’s everyone. Let’s move out. Stay within sight of at least two other cats at all times. Once we get there, watch me for the signal to attack, understood?”

“Affirmative,” said Pigeoncover with an obedient nod. Most of the others nodded or voiced agreement. Floodpaw puffed his chest up and nodded. What an honor to be among such a capable group of warriors!

“Good,” said Snowstar. “May StarClan guide our claws!” She looked across the camp to Goldenstar and the others and made eye contact before nodding and heading up the slope and into the thicker snow. 

“Good luck!” Floodpaw heard Oddstripe calling after them. He looked back at the healers’ den to shoot a grin at his papa who seemed worried. Don’t worry, Papa, he tried to say with his smile, I’ll come back a hero! Just watch!

Stoat Group fell into a small arrow shape with the apprentices in the middle, directly behind Snowstar and Pigeoncover. Floodpaw made sure to check regularly that he could still see Fernpaw and Fishpaw on either side of him as they made the long and silent journey to the border, or rather, to where the rogues had pushed the border. Despite the biting cold, he felt like he was burning with anticipation. It felt like at any moment they would suddenly be in the thick of battle. 

Eventually, Snowstar lifted her tail to stop them, and Floodpaw craned his neck to see the tracks ahead of them, covered heavily with freshly fallen snow. He wanted to ask if they were close but managed to keep a hold on his tongue. Snowstar looked at Pigeoncover and seemed to convey a message without a word. The FallenClan deputy nodded, glanced at Tumblefang, and then the two cats peeled off to the East, making a wide circle. Snowstar glanced at Charredbranch and he grinned, then flicked his tail at Fernpaw and the two of them split off to the West. 

Floodpaw started to vibrate in excitement. This must be it, he thought, we’re about to attack! He opened his mouth to try and catch any scent but the snow had muffled all of it. If the city cats were here, he had no idea where. 

A tense moment passed. Then another. Floodpaw strained his ears for any sound. He couldn’t hear anything above the blood pounding in his own ears. He spotted Charredbranch’s ears poking out of a snow bank to their right. He couldn’t see Pigeoncover anywhere.

Snowstar chirped, like a chattering bird, and all of the cats surged forward in an instant. Floodpaw moved as soon as he realized what was happening, flowing through Snowstar’s pawprints like rain water finding the fastest way down a hill. She bounded down a small slope then turned sharply right. Floodpaw blinked and suddenly there were dens in the snow in front of them. Snowstar crashed through into one and one of the cats inside screamed. 

“What’s going on?!” he heard a stranger cry out.

“We’re under attack!” another voice shouted, “Get up! Everyone up!” 

Pebblefall was in front of him and a rogue rose up to meet him, barring the entrance. Floodpaw shifted from foot to foot and glanced at Fishpaw. She growled in frustration and glanced around so he did the same. There was a second den where the two offshoots had converged and were being held at bay by a big ginger tabby with a jingling collar. There didn’t seem to be another den to attack. 

“Back up!” he heard Pebblefall hiss and the rest of the group hurried back to allow Pebblefall and Snowstar back out into the snow. Floodpaw gaped in disbelief. Had they been driven out so easily?! Then, he saw the genius in their plan. As they retreated, the city cats inside followed, leading them out where the other warriors could more easily attack them. 

A silver speckled tabby dashed out of the den and was tackled by Bogmist before she knew what was happening. A pale ginger she-cat with bengal spots lunged for Pebblefall only to have Fishpaw pounce on her from the other side. Snowstar arched her back in a hiss and a pale silver tabby tom, bleeding from a nasty claw wound above his eye, leapt to meet her. The tom looked just like Fogkit and Floodpaw realized suddenly that he must be Ghost.

Spitting furiously, Floodpaw darted in and grabbed Ghost’s back leg in his teeth. He gave a tug and Ghost stumbled, crying out. Snowstar took the opportunity to lunge for his neck but Ghost managed to roll out of the way. 

“What do we do?” a ginger tom cried from inside the den. More cats huddled behind him, reeking of fear scent. Floodpaw frowned. That wasn’t right.

“Get out of here!” Ghost barked, backing away from Floodpaw as he desperately tried to blink the blood from his right eye. Snowstar pursued him with a hiss but something unnerving twisted in Floodpaw’s gut.

“You will stay and fight!” shouted the ginger kittypet from across the way where he had Charredbranch pinned. “That’s an order!” Several kittypets had poured out of the den to join the fight. Pigeoncover and Tumblefang were trading back and forth between a black and white tom and a brown and white tabby she-cat. Fernpaw danced in circles, avoiding the swipes of two more kittypet rogues. 

Floodpaw immediately sprinted to his friend’s rescue. Snowstar would handle Ghost. Fernpaw needed him. 

He sprang at the bigger of the two, a scarred black smoke tabby tom and landed on his back. He clung for dear life, biting at the tom’s neck, but the kittypet rolled over and he wasn’t quick enough to avoid being crushed under the heavier cat’s weight. 

Still, he had drawn one of the cats off of Fernpaw who called out, “Thanks!” as he finally turned to attack his pursuer. 

Floodpaw rolled to his paws just in time. Right where he had been, the scarred kittypet slammed his paws down with enough force to crack Floodpaw’s sternum in half, he thought. Floodpaw darted to nip at his hind legs and followed the movement to circle the tom as he tried to round on Floodpaw. 

“Big-eared brat!” the rogue hissed, snapping for Floodpaw’s tail. Floodpaw squeaked but managed to leap out of the way just in time. 

A roar sounded on the hill, a dozen cats crying out. Eagle Group descended into the circle of trampled snow and crashed into the rogues. Russetfrond barreled into the tom Floodpaw was fighting and took him to the ground. Floodpaw panted heavily, glad that he’d been saved but unsure how to help now. 

He backed up to try and get a better look at the battlefield. The noise was suddenly overwhelming, a cacophony of yowling, writhing bodies. Now that the second wave had arrived, the Clans outnumbered the city cats more than two to one. All at once, the smell of blood became overwhelming. It wasn’t a tantalizing smell like prey blood. No, it was all wrong, like a sinister corruption of the taste. Floodpaw instinctively crouched low to the ground, trying to get his bearings against the tide of sensory information. 

“We need to go!” shrilled the silver speckled tabby, bleeding heavily from her shoulder. 

“Do not break rank!” bellowed the black and white kittypet, dodging blows from Tumblefang and Branchbark. 

“Kill the damn pests already!” hissed a voice behind Floodpaw and he twisted suddenly to see the ginger tabby kittypet bearing down on him. 

“Floodpaw, look out!” shouted Ospreymask as she heaved herself back onto her feet, a gash on her leg spraying blood over the snow. Floodpaw twisted to try and get out of the way but the kittypet slammed into him, pushing him onto his back in the snow. Floodpaw kicked with his hind legs, felt them connect with the soft flesh of the tom’s belly, and tried to dig his claws deep into it. Meanwhile, teeth snapped at his neck, grazed the skin, then made contact, tearing into the loose skin there. Floodpaw shrieked in pain. 

The tom’s head twisted suddenly, pulled off course by Ospreymask’s claws hooked into one of his eyes. The kittypet roared, spun around, and swiped at her. Floodpaw acted on instinct and lunged, grabbing the skin beneath the tom’s arm in his teeth. He pulled hard. Blood gushed over his face, hot and sour. 

Ospreymask slammed the tom face first into the snow, pulling him out of Floodpaw’s grip. He backed up and pressed a paw against the wound in his neck. 

“Floodpaw!” suddenly Goldenstar was beside him. “Are you alright?” He nodded silently, reeling.

He couldn’t look away from Ospreymask. Fury burning in her eyes, she rolled on top of the rogue, ignored his claws swiping at her face, and sank her teeth into his neck. Floodpaw had never seen such ferocity. The tom twisted his hind legs to strike at her. His claws tore at her belly, blood spattered the ground. She adjusted her grip on his neck and tore. 

Blood, more blood than Floodpaw had ever seen, spurted rhythmically from the kittypet’s neck and bathed the snow red. The tom gurgled and fell over, eyes staring blankly as he shuddered in the throes of death. 

Ospreymask looked at Floodpaw with an intense stare. “Are you alright?” Her whole chin and a good portion of her chest were drenched in blood.

“Uh, yeah-” he said, trying to meet her eyes, but he couldn’t help looking back at the kittypet - at his body.

“Sycamore!” screamed the kittypet she-cat. Suddenly she was tearing across the clearing towards Ospreymask. “You little bitch! I’ll tear you apart!” Robinswoop was behind the kittypet and hooked his claws into her tail, causing her to tumble into the snow. Then Ryestripe was on her, raining down blows. 

“Shit!” cursed Ghost. When he turned around to look, Snowstar swiped out and deepened the wound above his eye. Sparrowpaw leapt onto his back and sank his claws in, forcing him to refocus on the fight in front of him. 

“Sycamore’s dead!” cried the cat who had been fighting Fernpaw. “Retreat!” 

“Retreat!” chorused the street cats. There was a pause as everyone took a step back and the rogues started to flee. Some of the warriors cheered or spat insults at their backs. The brown tabby she-cat snarled furiously and lunged for Ospreymask again, but the black and white tom caught her by her scruff and pulled her back. 

“We have to go, Bella!” he snapped. Tears in her eyes, the she-cat looked at the horde of warriors hovering at the ready around them. They were the only two city cats left. Floodpaw watched the gravity of the situation sink in on her face. 

Backing up against the other kittypet, she glared at Ospreymask and said, “This isn’t over! You’ll pay for what you’ve done! All of you degenerates will pay!” 

“Yeah, yeah!” laughed Tumblefang.

“Beat it, flea bag!” jeered Fishpaw. 

Seething through gritted teeth, the kittypets turned and fled after their compatriots. 

“We are victorious!” shouted Flightstar and the crowd whooped and hollered in response. Cries of triumph went up throughout the group as cats turned to each other with wide smiles and bloody pelts. 

“Sparrowpaw!” Russetfrond barked above the noise, “Go fetch your father!”

“Yes, sir!” cried Sparrowpaw and he bounded over the hill the way they had come. Snowstar started moving among the cats, checking for serious injuries. Goldenstar rasped her tongue over Floodpaw’s neck, cleaning away the blood, and he suddenly came back to his body. 

“Are you alright, kid?” she asked, making eye contact with him. 

“Yeah,” he said, “I think. Is it bad?” He tried to look down at his wound. 

“It’s not that bad,” said Goldenstar, licking over his ears fondly. “We’ll get some cobwebs on it and you’ll be right as rain.” 

“Who got the kill?” shouted Tumblefang, moving through the crowd.

“Ospreymask!” said Robinswoop. A few cats called their congratulations and Ospreymask blushed, running her tongue over her dripping red muzzle. 

“As prophesied!” declared Snowstar with a dawning wonder. “Behold, the raptor that crushed the snake in its beak!” Floodpaw’s eyes widened. That had been a part of the prophecy? Cheers went up among the group. Branchbark appeared to try and lift Ospreymask onto his shoulders and the two of them laughed and began to wrestle. Floodpaw found himself staring at the body again, at the blood coagulating in the cavity she had made in its throat. That had been a person before but now it was just a stiff thing lying in the snow. Floodpaw couldn’t even remember its name. 

“Hey,” Goldenstar said, nudging him. “Maybe we should head back to camp, yeah?” 

“Oh,” he said, tearing his gaze away. “Yeah, maybe.” He looked back at the body. “Is it always so… scary?” 

Goldenstar laid her tail over his back and mumbled. “The first time is the hardest. It gets easier. But it’s a good reminder. Warriors try not to kill to win their battles.” 

“Because it’s scary like that?” he asked, looking back at her.

“And because the dead never get to see their loved ones again. You remember how much it hurt people when Nightfrost died, right?” He nodded. “When possible, you should try not to cause that much hurt. Nothing good ever comes from it.” 

“But we won,” he said. “We won because she killed him.” 

“We did,” Goldenstar said, lips pursed. “We probably could have won without killing anyone. But what happened happened. Sometimes you try your hardest and it still happens like that. We can’t change the past. We can only try and make a better future.” 

“Gotcha…” he said, swallowing as he looked at the bloodstained snow. 

“Floodpaw!” Oddstripe cried, rushing down the slope in front of Sparrowpaw. “Oh, StarClan, are you alright?” He reached them and took Floodpaw’s face in his paws to angle him this way and that. 

“The wound isn’t serious,” Goldenstar said reassuringly. “He fought well.” 

“They both did,” said Russetfrond, coming to join them. Sparrowpaw beamed at his brother but Floodpaw was too busy trying to break free. 

“Papa, stop! I’m fine!” he protested, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. 

“Oh, I was so worried about you, is-” Oddstripe stopped as he looked up and saw the body. “Oh- Stars above!” 

“It’s alright,” Goldenstar said, “He’s one of the rogues.” 

“There aren’t any other casualties,” said Coyotechaser, approaching, “but Pebblefall has a lot of wounds and Furrowleap can’t move his leg properly.” 

“And I should probably get my belly seen too,” said Ospreymask, stumbling over, leaning on Branchbark.

“Oh,” Oddstripe seemed suddenly overwhelmed. “Right, yes, let me look at your belly. If you could fetch Pebblefall…”

“Will do,” said Coyotechaser, moving away. 

Goldenstar reared up on her hind legs and called out, “Everyone who can should start heading back to RisingClan’s camp! Sagetooth and Tangletooth will be waiting to tend to your wounds and there’s a feast of fish waiting for all of you!” The war band cheered uproariously and began to meander back in the direction they had come. 

“Russetfrond,” Goldenstar said, dropping back to all four paws, “take the body over the Thunderpath please. Take whoever you need with you.”

“You got it,” he said, then looked at Branchbark. “Come on, you.” 

“Wh- me?!” protested the warrior. 

“Yes, you,” grumbled Russetfrond, “now hop to it. The faster we get this done the faster you can go back to doing whatever you wanted.” 

“Can I come?” Sparrowpaw asked. 

Russetfrond hummed then shrugged. “Alright. You can be our look out.” Sparrowpaw nodded seriously and moved with them as they went over to the body and began to drag it through the snow. 

Fernpaw appeared and butted heads with Floodpaw. “Was that awesome or what?!” he cried. 

“Yeah,” Floodpaw said, letting the other apprentice’s energy infect him. “You were amazing! When you were fighting those two cats at once-?!”

“Don’t forget when you saved me!” Fernpaw beamed. “I can’t believe you’re younger than I am!” 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t eat death berries and spend a moon in the healers’ den,” Floodpaw joked, swiping playfully at his ear. 

“Hey! I told you that in confidence!” Fernpaw laughed, looking around to see if anyone had heard. 

Floodpaw gave him another shove and said, “I’ll race you back to camp!” 

“Okay, readysetgo!”  Fernpaw blurted quickly and then tore off through the snow.

He dashed forward to close the growing distance between them and as he did, he kicked off with his hind legs to get a better view over the drifts of snow. They were technically out on a border patrol, but Russetfrond had told him to keep his eyes peeled for prey as well. Despite Yarrowshade and Pantherhaze’s great hunting skill - and Barleypaws, he thought proudly - food had become scarce to the point where Russetfrond had started teaching him how to ration meals most effectively. 

He’d made sure to bring anything he found straight to Smokyrose and her kits, who were just starting to eat solid foods. The first time he had brought them a meal after the kits had opened their eyes, Slatekit had stared at him with her big blue eyes like he was the most amazing thing she had ever seen and he couldn’t deny that it had boosted his ego considerably. He enjoyed the rush of pride every time she ran and hid behind her mother to watch him deliver the prey and he’d taken every chance he could to feel it again. Plus, Smokyrose was always appreciative and Fogkit was equally adorable. He laughed to think that he was once so cute and small. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t seen so much as a single bird all day. 

Sighing, he turned to his mentor and asked, “Russetfrond?” 

“Do you need me to slow down?” the big tom asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

“No,” he shook his head then, thinking better of it, said, “Maybe.” Russetfrond’s pace slowed by a half step, allowing him a little bit of breathing room. Surprising Sparrowpaw, his mentor didn’t have anything to say about it. He continued, “Um, I wanted to ask you: is prey usually this scarce in leafbare?” Russetfrond had told him that it was rarer once the snow started, but he couldn’t believe it was always this rare. The Clan had been much bigger before he was born hadn’t it? How had they kept everyone fed if there was no prey to be seen?

“Not always,” said Russetfrond, confirming his suspicions. “The prey goes to ground and some of the birds fly away but it varies year to year how much there is to find.” 

“So this year is worse than usual?” Sparrowpaw pressed. 

“Yes,” Russetfrond said grimly. He looked out over the snow, towards the city in the distance, and Sparrowpaw reared on his hind paws for a step to try and follow his mentor’s gaze. All he managed to see was a blurry field of white as he wobbled and dropped back onto his front paws. 

“Will everyone be alright?” he asked. Russetfrond grunted in a way that Sparrowpaw had learned meant he was thinking. 

“We’ll have to see,” he said. “There aren’t as many mouths to feed but there are subsequently less hunters to feed them.” Sparrowpaw quirked his head, mouthing the word subsequently to test it out for himself. 

“Well, I hope StarClan sends us lots of prey,” he said eventually. 

Russetfrond grunted again - that one meant he was skeptical of the idea. Sparrowpaw wondered why but didn’t ask. His papa spoke frequently about asking StarClan for better weather or more prey or even just good luck. The way he saw it, if you just prayed hard enough, StarClan could solve any problem you had but Russetfrond seemed to think differently. What did his mentor know that he didn’t? 

The two of them continued their patrol in silence until they spotted the EarthClan patrol coming their way. Russetfrond greeted the senior warrior, Furrowleap, and his apprentice, Fishpaw, curtly and asked them if there was any news.

“Not much,” Furrowleap said, “Just the usual struggles of leafbare.” 

Fishpaw rolled her eyes. “Yeah, except Dawnbird has whitecough and Stormwhisper is still nowhere to be found.” 

“Isn’t he on a mission from StarClan?” Sparrowpaw asked, remembering what his papa had told Sagetooth. 

“All I know is he left us without a healer,” said the older apprentice, twitching her ginger tail irritably. Her mentor brushed his tail against her leg gently. 

“Maybe our friends in RisingClan could help us out,” he said. 

“I’ll let Sagetooth know,” Russetfrond said. “Her frostbite has healed without a trace so I’m sure she would be willing to come take a look at the girl.” 

“Much appreciated,” purred Furrowleap. Fishpaw looked away, rolling her eyes again. Sparrowpaw couldn’t stop the indignant snort that came out of him and she raised her eyebrow in his direction. He held her gaze without a word and eventually, she looked away again. Subtly, he let out a breath of relief. He had been very worried she was about to start a fight and he didn’t want to be responsible for that sort of thing. 

The patrol proceeded as normal, mostly in silence which was enhanced by the fat flakes of snow that continued to descend from the thick grey clouds up ahead. Sparrowpaw was starting to lose track of where exactly they were. He thanked StarClan that he had Russetfrond to lead him home again. 

“Wait,” Russetfrond said suddenly, lifting his tail. “Do you smell that?” 

“Smell what?” Sparrowpaw asked, leaning forward to try and see what Russetfrond was sniffing at. His mentor did nothing to move out of his way and Sparrowpaw huffed in frustration as he stepped back behind his mentor. The EarthClan cats, both taller than him and able to see over the snow on their own, successfully joined Russetfrond in sniffing around. 

“City cats,” Furrowleap nodded.

“Looks like there’s something under the snow,” Russetfrond grumbled, starting to dig at the snow. Sparrowpaw tried rising onto his hind paws to get a peek but still couldn’t see past the other cats’ shoulders. 

“What is it?” he asked, straining to balance. 

“A mousetail?” asked Furrowleap. “They left just a mouse tail?” 

“They’re taunting us,” Russetfrond growled. “When the border patrol met their leader, he offered us food in exchange for turning in the cat he was hunting. He said he knew it was hard to find food this time of year.” 

“So they’re hunting our prey to spite us?” Fishpaw hissed, tail lashing. 

“And to force us to do what they want,” Russetfrond said. 

“Those fox-hearts,” snarled Fishpaw. Sparrowpaw was inclined to agree. He knew that the lack of prey was suspicious! Now that he knew Razor was to blame, the sneaking suspicion that had been building inside him ignited into a righteous fury. He started pacing back through the tracks in the snow, looking for further signs of city cat transgressions. 

“Let’s fan out,” Furrowtrail said, seeming to have the same thought, “see if we can find anything else.” Russetfrond grunted in a way that said he disagreed but didn’t want to argue. 

Sparrowpaw put his head down and started to search. He was determined to find something, to help his Clan. He imagined Russetfrond congratulating him for a job well done and felt his spirits rise. Praise from his mentor was hard won but that only made it more satisfying to him, even if his littermates didn’t agree. 

He paused in his tracks and listened, ears forward, paws still. Maybe there were city cats nearby. If the mouse tail was fresh enough to be found under the snow, they couldn’t have been too far, right? 

A noise ahead of him pulled him into a laser focus and he crouched down between the tracks in the snow. Something was approaching, cautiously shuffling in his direction. It didn’t sound quite like a cat, the steps were too lilting in their rhythm - one, two… one, two… one, two. He held his breath and waited until, up ahead, the snow making up the wall of the tracks that the patrol had left behind crumbled softly and a face with wide set eyes and a pair of large, upright ears poked into the path. 

Sparrowpaw thanked StarClan for the coating of snow clinging to his thick fur. It seemed the rabbit hadn’t spotted him yet. He’d never caught a rabbit before, but he’d been taught how. Once again, he imagined dragging his prize to the nursery and showing it off for Fogkit and Slatekit. Even Barleypaw would be impressed, he told himself. He’d be a hero for catching such a filling meal for the Clan. Very carefully, he took a step forward. Then another. 

“What are you doing?!” Fishpaw’s voice snapped in his ear and he flinched with a gasp. The rabbit heard and sprinted away in a series of thumping footsteps. Sparrowpaw looked up at Fishpaw with a pout. 

“You scared it away!” he accused.

“You were going to steal our prey!” she hissed back. “Are you so dumb you can’t see you’re on our territory?” 

“I-” the blood drained from his face. Was he really? Fear built in his chest when he pictured Russetfrond’s reaction. 

“What’s going on here?” his mentor’s voice boomed as he stormed towards them and Sparrowpaw felt sick. 

Fishpaw stood to her full height and glared at him. “Your apprentice was just taking the opportunity to catch EarthClan prey while our backs were turned!” 

Russetfrond turned his fierce amber eyes on Sparrowpaw. “Is that true?” he asked. Sparrowpaw opened his mouth but his words died of shame in his throat. He looked down at his paws and wilted. 

“Well?” Russetfrond pressed and Sparrowpaw knew there was no way out.

“I… I got turned around,” he said weakly. “I didn’t realize where we were. I’m sorry.” Behind Russetfrond, Furrowleap rejoined the group looking concerned. 

“Sorry!” Fishpaw huffed. “That’s all he has to say for himself?” Sparrowpaw shrank even further. 

“Did he catch anything?” Russetfrond asked her. 

“No, but he was-” 

“Then there’s no harm done, is there,” he growled. “He won’t make that mistake again. Isn’t that right, Sparrowpaw?” 

“Yes, sir,” he nodded quickly. He would rather die than make that mistake again. 

“Good,” said Russetfrond, seeming satisfied. To Furrowleap, he said, “I’m headed back to camp to report what we found, alright?” 

“Sounds good to me,” nodded the warrior. “StarClan light your path.” 

“And yours,” Russetfrond nodded gruffly. Stomping forward, he said, “come along, Sparrowpaw.” Sparrowpaw immediately fell in beside him, using his mentor’s body to shield him from Fishpaw’s accusatory gaze. His pelt crawled with shame like it was full of ants and he held his breath as he walked, waiting for Russetfrond to discipline him more thoroughly once no one was watching. 

Eventually, he did speak. “Were you really turned around?” 

“Yes,” Sparrowpaw nodded quickly. “I saw the rabbit and I didn’t even think about it. I didn’t know I was on EarthClan’s territory, I promise.” 

Russetfrond grunted and for once, Sparrowpaw couldn’t decipher its meaning. “You’ll warm your paws and then we’ll go hunting for some prey on our territory. We won’t come back to camp until we’ve caught something, understood?” 

“Yes, sir,” he nodded again. “Is that all?” 

“What do you mean?” scowled Russetfrond, looking down at him. 

“I just thought…” he didn’t know why he was asking, “that there would be more of a punishment.” 

“This was your first offense,” Russetfrond said, shaking his head. “You’ve been warned and now you’re going to make it right. There’s no need for further punishment.”

“Oh,” Sparrowpaw nodded. That made sense. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he grunted back. Despite himself, Sparrowpaw smiled and leaned closer to Russetfrond’s side. Awkwardly, his mentor’s tail settled over his back. Purring, Sparrowpaw followed his mentor back to camp, starting to look forward to their upcoming hunting trip. He thanked StarClan for giving him the most amazing mentor in the world.

Or maybe he just wanted to look brave when they arrived at the Gathering. That morning Goldenstar had told them that if they got all of their chores done and helped stock the prey pile before nightfall that they would be allowed to attend and the three of them had eagerly rushed about the camp trying to get the dens clean in time. 

Their mentors had all been chosen to come too. Obviously, Goldenstar had to go, and Nightfrost and Sagetooth had tagged along as well. Sparrowpaw had asked his Papa why he wasn’t coming and Oddstripe had told him that Branchbark’s cold needed to be monitored by someone, but he hadn’t believed him. 

“He’s staying behind in case there’s an attack,” Floodpaw had whispered to him when he’d shared his concerns at dinner. “The warriors will need someone to patch their wounds if the rogues come looking for trouble.” 

“They wouldn’t,” Sparrowpaw had huffed and Floodpaw had just shrugged in response. 

“Maybe, but he’s staying just in case. I heard him talking about it with Goldenstar.” 

That thought made Sparrowpaw’s tail twitch, even now. He didn’t like the idea of his Papa getting attacked by that terrible rogue while the Clan’s strongest fighters were out at the gathering. He could still taste the tangy stench of the city cats on his tongue, hear the tom’s jeering laughter at their fear. Sparrowpaw thought it was senseless how eager Floodpaw was to fight the rogues, but if he ever saw that tom again he thought he might just lose his sense too. 

He looked up to the front of the little group to study the final member attending the gathering: Scorchplume. She walked close to Goldenstar’s side, speaking softly and with a serious expression. She had been one of the city cats, hadn’t she? It was strange to think about. She was so different from the cruel tom he had encountered or the frightened Aldertail. She was calm and charming and when they talked she seemed kind enough. She wasn’t as friendly as someone like Smokyrose, but she had never been mean to him or his siblings. Russetfrond insisted she was just pretending, and Sparrowpaw had to wonder if she was one of those ‘Pretender’ cats he had heard Aldertail talking about. 

He glanced at Russetfrond and found him scowling at Goldenstar and Scorchplume’s conversation. Was he wondering what they were talking about? Now that he had thought about it, Sparrowpaw was pretty curious himself. Subtly shifting his pace to urge Barleypaw closer to the pair, he strained his ears forward to try and catch a glimpse of their conversation. 

Scorchplume was in the middle of a sentence. “-vulnerable, but not too vulnerable. You could handle this by yourself, but it would be an inconvenience. You would see it as a favor if they lent you their aid. You have to convince them that they want your approval and this is how they get it.” 

“You’re starting to sound like a real schemer, Scorch,” Goldenstar said with a smirk. 

Scorchplume’s tail lashed. “This is serious!” 

“Right, sorry,” Goldenstar said. “I’m just… not sure how I feel about lying to the other Clans like that.” 

“It’s not lying,” Scorchplume said authoritatively. “It’s called speechcraft. You’re presenting your arguments in the most favorable manner possible in order to protect your Clan. Isn’t that what you want?” 

“Yes,” Goldenstar admitted. 

“And see?” Scorchplume lifted her head, “I knew what you wanted and I told you I had it. You made the choice I wanted you to make and felt like it was entirely your decision. Speechcraft.” 

Goldenstar frowned. “You are the worst.” Sparrowpaw heard Russetfrond huff a laugh under his breath. 

“Perhaps,” replied Scorchplume, one ear flicking briefly backwards. “But I’m alive. Trust me, Goldie, this is how you survive.” Goldenstar worked her jaw for a second, as if she regretted her choice of words. 

She opened her mouth to speak but Sagetooth beat her to it. “SkyClan’s already here.” 

“Are we there?” Floodpaw perked up, his ears flicking forward despite the chill. “Are we at the Cornerstones?” 

“We are,” Sagetooth smiled, but added sternly, “Now be on your best behavior. You’re representing RisingClan.” 

Sparrowpaw straightened his posture and nodded. “We will, Sagetooth. Don’t worry.” 

She smiled again and said, “Good lad.” 

The group emerged from the sparse trees they had been walking through, into a clearing that smelled of more cats than Sparrowpaw had ever smelled in one place. The scents were fresh too, not like the fading border markers, and he opened his mouth to drink in the smell of living, breathing SkyClan cats. It was like stone and water, all minerals and musk. He felt Barleypaw press closer to him and smiled back at her. 

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’m sure they’ll be plenty friendly.” 

“Go on and mingle,” Yarrowshade said. “So long as you don’t start any fights and you sit quietly once the Gathering starts, you should be fine to wander around.”

“Mm.” Grunted Russetfrond. “Remember, be polite but not too friendly. You may face these cats in battle someday.” He had given Sparrowpaw a lecture about that earlier that morning, about making sure he always knew where his allegiances really lay. Sparrowpaw nodded again, dutifully. He wouldn’t let his mentor down. 

“Come on, man,” Yarrowshade frowned. “Let the kids have some fun for once.” 

Russetfrond flicked his ear dismissively. “You mentor your apprentice and I’ll mentor mine, alright?” 

“Cut it out, you guys,” Goldenstar tilted her head with a pained smile, “you’ll put clouds over the moon.” Both of the toms grunted and looked away in opposite directions. Scorchplume kept her back turned to all of them. Sparrowpaw couldn’t block out the feeling worming through his head that there was something grown-up going on that his kid brain couldn’t grasp. He didn’t like it. 

“Come on!” Floodpaw said, getting Sparrowpaw’s attention with a swipe of his paw. “Let’s go!” 

“Okay,” Sparrowpaw said slowly. Tearing his mind from the complexities of the grown-ups’ dynamics, he bounded after his brother, leaving Barleypaw behind. He glanced over his shoulder, to see if she was coming, but saw her slinking over to slide under Yarrowshade’s belly. Oh, well, he thought. If that’s what makes her happy then that’s fine. 

As they approached the SkyClan cats, one young tom spotted them and moved to intercept. He was a moon or two older than them at most, with a silvery, spotted pelt and cool green eyes that flashed with interest. 

He raised his tail in greeting and smiled widely as he spoke. “Hey! I’m Fernpaw! What’s your names?” 

Sparrowpaw puffed up his chest, surprised at how much bigger the other apprentice was up close. “I’m Sparrowpaw,” he said. “This is Floodpaw.” 

“We’re from RisingClan,” said Floodpaw proudly. 

“Yeah,” nodded Fernpaw, “I know. You must be the Healer’s kits.” 

“How did you know that?” Sparrowpaw asked, amazed. 

“Everybody heard about it,” Fernpaw said. “Healers don’t usually have kits, so your mom is kind of special. Tangletooth says she’s nice though.” 

“He’s our dad,” Floodpaw growled, a bit more aggressively than Sparrowpaw thought was necessary. 

“Oh,” Fernpaw’s ears slipped backward for a split second. “Sorry, I didn’t know.” 

“It’s okay,” said Sparrowpaw, offering a smile. “Is this your first gathering too?” 

“Yeah,” Fernpaw nodded enthusiastically, all tension slipping from his posture. “I was sick for a while so I had to miss the last one.” 

“That sucks!” Floodpaw groaned sympathetically. 

“Right?” laughed Fernpaw. “It’s my own fault though. I ate a deathberry.” 

Sparrowpaw gasped. “And you survived?!” 

“Of course he survived,” Floodpaw rolled his eyes and Sparrowpaw scowled at him. 

Fernpaw just nodded, smiling without a touch of embarrassment. “Coyotechaser was totally freaking out! I passed out and woke up back in camp with everyone hovering about, it was crazy.” 

“Who’s Coyotechaser?” asked Sparrowpaw, looking around the gathered cats. 

“My mentor,” said Fernpaw, “She’s the deputy. Right over there?” He pointed with his muzzle to the pile of rubble at the bottom of the Cornerstones where Nightfrost had joined a brown and white tabby cat. 

“My mentor is Goldenstar,” Floodpaw boasted, pointing to her as if he needed to. It was Sparrowpaw’s turn to roll his eyes. 

Fernpaw on the other hand seemed impressed. “Woah! That’s awesome! Snowstar is my mom.” 

“Oh,” Floodpaw said, looking at the snowy white cat sitting at the top of the stones. 

Quickly, Sparrowpaw tried to cover for his brother’s rudeness. “That’s amazing! What’s it like being the leader’s kit?” 

“Uh… I dunno,” Fernpaw shrugged. “I don’t think I get any special treatment or anything. Mom’s really good to everybody.” Sparrowpaw looked at Snowstar again and tried to size her up. She was a lot older than Goldenstar, that was for sure. He wondered how hard it would be for Goldenstar to convince her to help them. 

A rustle at the far edge of camp announced the arrival of the third Clan of the night. At the head of them was a fierce looking blue spotted tabby and his much meeker looking deputy. Floodpaw gawked excitedly at them. 

“Who is that?” he asked. 

Fernpaw opened his jaws to scent them and said, “FallenClan. That must be Flightstar.” 

“He’s so cool,” Floodpaw said, bouncing from paw to paw. 

“He’s not that cool,” Sparrowpaw huffed. Remember, he thought, these cats could be our enemies one day. Casting a sideways glance, he regarded Fernpaw again. Would he have to face the other apprentice in battle someday? He hadn’t known him long, but already that broke Sparrowpaw’s heart. No wonder Russetfrond had drilled that teaching into him, he was going to have to be extremely vigilant to avoid forming inappropriate bonds with enemy warriors. 

“No apprentices,” Floodpaw frowned, as the FallenClan cats finished filing in. 

“Maybe EarthClan will have some,” Fernpaw shrugged. 

“I hope they show up soon,” Floodpaw shivered. “I’m freezing out here.” 

“We can move closer to the Cornerstones if you want,” suggested Fernpaw. “It’s warmer over there - less wind chill.” 

“Oh, that would be great,” Floodpaw laughed and the three of them moved closer to the crumbling stone structure. True enough, as they stepped into the corner, the wind died suddenly. Floodpaw sighed in relief and huddled down next to Sparrowpaw. Sparrowpaw looked up at the top of the Cornerstones as Flightstar joined Snowstar and Goldenstar atop it. He had a feeling Flightstar was going to be difficult to convince, even with Scorchplume’s advice. 

It wasn’t long until EarthClan arrived. Sparrowpaw spotted an apprentice padding near the front of the group, one nearly grown and wearing a pair of moth wings, one behind each ear. Sparrowpaw reared up on his hind legs to wave at him and the apprentice tilted his head at them and approached, his sleek, russet brown fur shining in the moonlight. 

“Someone’s enthusiastic,” he said, raising one brow at them. 

“You should come sit with us!” Sparrowpaw said, “It’s less cold here.” 

“So it is,” the apprentice hummed, settling down with his tail around his paws. 

Floodpaw puffed out his chest and said, “I’m Floodpaw of RisingClan. This is my brother, Sparrowpaw.” 

“Fernpaw,” said Fernpaw casually. 

“Boldpaw,” said the newcomer. 

“Boldpaw,” Floodpaw repeated, nodding to himself. “That’s a great name.” 

“I know,” said Boldpaw with a smile. Floodpaw pursed his lips and swallowed, looking away. Sparrowpaw tilted his head in confusion but shook it off. Floodpaw was such a weirdo. 

“Alright! Let’s get started!” Snowstar’s voice rang out over the clearing and the apprentices all fell quiet. Sparrowpaw was vibrating with excitement. Above him sat the most powerful cats alive, the leaders and deputies of the four Clans. He felt honored to be sitting so close to them.

Snowstar continued, “We are blessed to have a clear sky tonight after the snow yesterday. As we prepare for leafbare, we in SkyClan thank the stars for the bountiful prey we have been blessed with.” Turning to look at Goldenstar, she added, “However, we recently drove a fox from its den and while we tried to chase it east, it may present a problem in the future. RisingClan especially should keep an eye out for any signs of foxes.” 

“Great,” Floodpaw grumbled. “First rogues, now foxes?” 

“Rogues?” Fernpaw whispered, but Coyotechaser shot him a look from her perch nearby and he fell silent again. 

“Thank you for the warning,” Goldenstar said, dipping her head. “If there isn’t any more news from SkyClan, I actually have a warning of my own.” Snowstar shook her head invitingly and Goldenstar stepped to the front of the Cornerstones. 

“It has come to my attention,” she said, “that we have all been living next to a serious threat that has until recently been unaware of our existence.” Cats shifted curiously and Sparrowpaw looked over his shoulder, suddenly wishing he were in the back and not the front. “The twoleg city, just over the thunderpath, is home to a ruthless gang of rogues led by a cat named Razor. A few weeks ago, we took in a young cat who was fleeing his wrath who has since taken the name Aldertail and become one of our warriors. Shortly after, Razor’s scouts came looking for her and harassed our new apprentices. It is our belief that Razor will stop at nothing to kill Aldertail and that he may even try to claim our territory for his own.” 

Flightstar scoffed. “It sounds to me like you brought this on yourself by taking in a stray kittypet, Goldenstar.” 

“What were we supposed to do?” Goldenstar frowned. “Let him slaughter her for a crime she didn’t even commit?” 

“How do you know she’s innocent?” Flightstar shot back. “These are kittypet problems and we should let the kittypets sort them out. This doesn’t concern us.” 

“Yes, it does,” Goldenstar said firmly. “Now that Razor is aware of the Clans, he is a threat to all of us. His cats are not kittypets, they are as strong as any of our warriors and they will only get bolder.” 

“What would you like us to do?” said Orangestar. Sparrowpaw had barely even noticed her, she was hunched in such a solemn, dejected way that she seemed nearly invisible beside the rest of the leaders. She shrugged and shook her head, “I mean, Razor sounds like bad news but how are we even supposed to help? It’s not like we could launch an attack on the city.” Beside him, Boldpaw sighed bitterly and shook his head. 

“I propose we present a united front,” Goldenstar said. “All the Clans will send warriors to defend our southern border from intrusion.” 

“And leave our own borders vulnerable?” Flightstar asked. “No, absolutely not. This is your mess, Goldenstar. You can deal with it on your own.” 

“If we don’t handle it together now, it will be harder to handle later,” countered Goldenstar. “All of us are weakened by the Red Gut, but together we could stand a chance.” 

“I am… inclined to agree with Flightstar,” Snowstar said, and Sparrowpaw felt his stomach drop. “It’s not that I don’t think this is important but I can’t spare warriors to defend a border so far from my camp. Maybe if there were a more specific instance, a battle you were preparing for, but to lose a chunk of our warriors indefinitely does not seem wise.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Goldenstar, but my first duty is to my Clan and I have mouths to feed.” 

Goldenstar looked lost. “Orangestar?” she asked, “RisingClan would see any aid as a favor to be repaid.”

Orangestar considered it for a moment, looking sullenly at her paws, then lifted her head and said, “EarthClan will stand with you. We can hash out the details later.” 

“Thank you,” Goldenstar sighed, smiling. 

“And if you have a more actionable request,” Snowstar said, “send word and SkyClan will come to your aid.” 

“I will,” said Goldenstar.