#mistyskip

Thunderclan couldn’t afford a war with Riverclan right now. There were so few warriors, and he wasn’t sure he could trust all of them - least of all himself - in a battle against the other Clan. There was Bluestar to contend with as well, the once great leader barely leaving her nest without his or Yellowfang’s prodding. If they went to war, Thunderclan would lose, he was sure of it, and it would be just one more criticism that the elders would have of his being deputy.

He slowed to a halt as he reached a familiar clearing - one in which, long ago, he’d seen Riverclan cats for the first time. He gently dropped Robinkit, the other two warriors doing the same behind him. He opened his mouth, about to mew instruction to the other warriors, but stopped when a gray striped tail slapped across his mouth. He blinked, staring bewilderedly at Peppermask, but she didn’t say anything, instead gesturing for him to be quiet.

Fireheart perked his ears, suddenly painfully aware of how close they were to the Riverclan border. Had she heard warriors coming? He pricked his ears, expecting to hear cats approaching, but the only thing he could hear was birdsong. He watched, his confusion growing, as she stalked away into the bushes, firmly in their own territory. Had she heard trespassers?

He was about to follow her when he heard a startled squawk, followed by the sound of a dozen wings frantically taking to the air. Peppermask returned with a bright smile, carrying a plump pigeon in her jaws. “I saw them as we approached.” She explained as she dropped it in front of the kits. “I didn’t want you scaring them off. No point in wasting a perfectly good opportunity.”

Though his heart was still racing from the thought of an approaching threat, he had to agree with her reasoning. “That seems sensible.” He admitted, trying to calm himself down. “Hey, have you kits ever-”

He startled as he looked down at the kits, who were tearing into the bird with a ferocious zeal that made him feel a little nervous for his own hide. “Hey, don’t- don’t choke on the feathers, please.” He warned them, though he wasn’t entirely sure they heard him as they continued crunching into the carcass.

He hadn’t noticed before, with too much else on his mind, but he realized now how skinny the three kits were. Between his and Peppermask’s hunting, not to mention Yellowfang’s help, Princess’ kits were pudgy, bordering on fat. It felt unnatural to see these kits, almost skin and bones, now ravaging the prey set in front of them. How long had it been since they ate? Surely they hadn’t starved this badly from a single day of adventure - this was at least a quarter-moon without eating, maybe more. 

When he looked at Peppermask, he expected to see surprise on her face, but she was just watching them with sadness. “I could feel Dawnkit’s spine when I picked her up. That’s why I- I couldn’t let them go back, and find out later that they’d starved to death…” She explained softly to him when she saw him watching.

“The river is Riverclan’s main source of food, and it freezes over in leafbare. Most of the prey in the lowlands goes into hibernation, too.” Graystripe mumbled from his other side. “That’s why they get so fat in leaf-fall; they need all the food they can get to survive leafbare. They try to have kits in newleaf, when the fish return, so that they’ll have plenty to eat.”

Fireheart looked on, his heart aching as he watched the kits devour every last scrap of the pigeon. If the kits were this skinny, the part of the Clan that ate first, how was the rest of the Clan alive? What if they’d all perished in the floods, unable to summon the strength to swim-

No, he wouldn’t let himself think such thoughts. “Come on, you three.” He mewed, nudging them with his nose. They moved from the bones reluctantly, glancing back as though hoping they might spot a spare morsel that they had missed. “It’s time to get you back to your mother.”

They moved through what little bracken remained to look down on Sunningrocks. Just like the rest of the land close to the river, it was flooded, the normal stone floor vanished beneath the water. However, just as they’d hoped, some of the normal stone towers that made Sunningrocks so valuable were still a tail-length or more above the water. His heart soared as he saw cats moving around - dozens of them, an entire Clan’s worth.

He turned to the kits. “You three stay here for a moment.” He nodded the same to Peppermask and Graystripe before, with a deep sigh, wading a few tail-lengths out until the water was lapping firmly around his forelegs. “Riverclan!” He called, watching as the entire Clan’s head turned as one at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. “Is Ivyskip among you? We must speak with her.”

He could see some cats already bristling at him, ready to challenge him. He was technically intruding, although he hoped that they would see it was for a good reason, and he’d expected minor aggression at his appearance. He could hear talking, though not well enough to make out words or who was speaking, before several cats dove into the water and swam towards him, leaving the rest of the Clan on the rocks. They didn’t seem to be a battle patrol, at least, which was a good start.

He flicked his tail for them to follow him, then moved back to mostly dry land. “Come here. Let them see you, all of you. We don’t want them to think this is an ambush.” He mewed, the kits and warriors emerging from the bracken to stand beside him.

It was only heartbeats before the Riverclan cats were upon them, and he was grateful to realize he recognized most of them. Crookedstar was leading them, his jaw twisted up in an ugly scowl, while Leopardflame and Mistyskip flanked him. Behind them was a tortoiseshell queen he didn’t recognize - Ivyskip, if he had to guess.

“My kits!” His thoughts were confirmed as the queen raced past him as soon as she could stand, enveloping them all in her still-dripping embrace. “You’re safe! Oh, Starclan, thank Starclan you’re all safe…”

Crookedstar’s green gaze warmed slightly as he watched the family reunite. “And how, might I ask, did Thunderclan come by three of Riverclan’s kits?” The leader asked, his gaze narrowing to glare down at Fireheart. He steadied himself, not wanting to seem afraid and guilty. They had done nothing wrong rescuing these kits; he would not let Thunderclan be blamed.

He opened his mouth to reply. “They stole them from us! They must have!” Leopardflame spat before he could speak, her spotted pelt rising as she advanced on the three young Thunderclanners. “They’ve been nothing but trouble for us all of leafbare! First with the prey-stealing, and then-”

“We didn’t steal them!” Fireheart snapped back before she could finish. “We were out to survey the extent of the flooding near the Owltree when we heard kits calling for help. The branch they were on broke apart in front of us, so we rescued them before they could drown.”

“Really? You expect us to believe that?” The deputy straightened up to her full height with a hiss, though Fireheart suspected that if he tried he would be taller than her. “As if Thunderclan cats would ever get their paws wet!”

“Leopardflame.” Mistyskip mewed, casting a disdainful glance at her deputy as she stepped up beside her uncle. “Look at their bellies. They’re soaked with water, all of them, which could only happen if they were submerged in water, and not just traveling in the rain. They have been swimming, and recently.”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” Leopardflame spat back, her eyes blazing furiously at the senior warrior that had dared to talk back to her. “If you’re so smart, then explain how they could find our kits near the Owltree, far upstream from camp!”

The silver molly looked unsettled at the deputy’s retort. Fireheart stepped forward to interrupt them before she could hazard a guess. “I think that might be answered by the kits themselves.” He turned to them, shivering and hugging their mother as tightly as possible. “Go on, then.”

The kits stared at him with wide, anxious eyes, and suddenly he felt fear strike his heart. They had to tell the truth, or Riverclan would be furious with them! After all that the three warriors had done for the kits…

Peppermask crouched down, her belly brushing the wet pebbles below. “Hey, you guys don’t want us to get in trouble for saving you, do you? Just tell them what you told us.” She mewed gently to the three.

Tears welled in Aspenkit’s eyes, but he slowly nodded and pulled away from the tortoiseshell queen. “We- we wanted to see the gorge for ourselves. But Dad wouldn’t take us, and- so we snuck out. We’re sorry! We didn’t know-”

“Shh, darling. It’s alright. You’re safe now.” Ivyskip gently hushed her son and pulled him back against her again. “I believe them. Why would these Thunderclanners steal our kits just to bring them back?” She looked up with warm green eyes, bowing her head to each of them. “Thank you, all of you. You risked your lives to save my kits. I will never forget your kindness.”

Fireheart nodded back, even as exhaustion began to creep over him once again. “I’m just glad we were able to bring them back home. And I’m sure they’re glad, too.” He replied, turning back to the other three Riverclanners. “I’m sorry to have troubled you, but I assure you, not a single Thunderclanner is interested in stealing your kits. We already have enough trouble dealing with our own.”

Crookedstar’s whiskers twitched slightly at his words. “Well, in that case, Riverclan is grateful that you rescued them. I know it is not an easy task to swim in these floodwaters; doubly so for a cat not accustomed to swimming at all.” As he spoke, a spark lit in his gaze. “Say, Mistyskip, didn’t you mention something about rescuing a ginger Thunderclanner from the river a few moons ago?”

Fireheart’s ears flattened bitterly at the memory, and he was sure Graystripe was doing the same behind him. “Yes, Uncle. Him and the tom behind him were the very two Silverstream and I rescued.” Her blue eyes met his with a mischievous twinkle. “I’m glad to see that you two have learned how to swim since then.” 

He growled wordlessly in response, but she didn’t seem to take heed as she trotted past him to where Ivyskip was still holding her kits tightly. “Let’s get them up on the rocks. Leopardflame, if you would?”

The spotted deputy’s scowl worsened as she moved past the Thunderclan cats, gingerly picking up Robinkit before turning and leaping gracefully into the floodwaters. The three mollies were gone in mere moments with their charges, leaving only the Riverclan leader and the Thunderclan cats standing on the shoreline.

As Crookedstar turned away, presumably to follow them, Fireheart noticed how visible the leader’s hips were - not unlike, he realized, how Tallstar had been when they had led the Windclanners back home. He felt Graystripe and Peppermask tensing up beside him, and he knew they were thinking the same. “Crookedstar, may I speak to you for a moment?” He mewed quickly.

The normally muscular tabby turned back, his eyes wary but not hostile, as he regarded them with suspicion. “You have my attention.” The leader replied with a small courteous dip of his head.

“Let me be honest with you, Crookedstar.” The tabby’s tail tip twitched slightly as Fireheart spoke, but he nonetheless inclined his head slightly in agreement. “On the way here, Peppermask happened to catch a bird. She’s a good hunter; one of our best.” He glanced slightly to see her whiskers twitch as she acknowledged the praise, but he could see the worry etched clearly on her face. “We didn’t get a chance to decide what to do with it when the kits devoured it.”

Crookedstar sighed heavily and sat down, unbothered by the water that lapped around his paws. “I apologize for them. Kits can be impulsive, sometimes, and they must have been hungry from their little adventure. I promise you-”

“This wasn’t a matter of simple hunger. Those kits were starving. They cleaned those bones faster than a cat can lash their tail.” He could see the large tabby’s muscles tense up as he spoke. “You and I both know the warrior code says that kits must be fed first, and I don’t think those kits had eaten in the past quarter-moon. If they haven’t eaten, what about the rest of your Clan?”

The Riverclan leader’s scowl had returned as he glared at the presumptuous young Thunderclanner. “Perhaps you’re still unfamiliar with how the Clans work. Most warriors would consider it a grave offen-”

“I know that pointing out such weaknesses in another Clan is considered the highest of insults. But I also have to think that if those kits had had enough to eat, that they might not have needed our rescuing at all.” Fireheart took a deep breath to steady himself. He knew what he was thinking was essentially breaking the code. He also knew that if he didn’t speak up, he would never forgive himself. “If we hadn’t given them food, I’m not certain they would have lived through another quarter-moon. And now your lands are flooded, and you’ve admitted yourself that flood waters are difficult to navigate. You won’t be able to hunt until the flood subsides, and who knows when that will be?”

He could see Crookedstar’s lip curling as he listened to Fireheart speak. “Is there a point to this?” The other tom growled.

“There is, Crookedstar.” He dipped his head respectfully, though he was sure it didn’t feel like it to the tabby tom. “Now that newleaf has come, prey is returning to the forest. Many in Thunderclan have full bellies. Even though some of our best hunting territory is underwater, we can still spare prey, if it will ensure your Clan’s survival.”

The Thunderclan deputy and Riverclan leader stared at each other, gauging each other’s moods. Fireheart didn’t shy away from the other’s gaze; he meant every word he had said, even if it was tantamount to treason. “You claim that you are familiar with how the Clans work, and yet what you’re suggesting to me is antithetical to the very foundation of the Clans.” Crookedstar’s tone was carefully measured as he regarded the flame-colored deputy. “What will you ask for in return, hmm? Nothing comes without a price, and I will not indebt my Clan to yours when we are-”

“We ask for nothing. It was us, as you’ll recall, that traveled to bring Windclan home. We did not ask them for territory or prey then either. I don’t want Thunderclan to gain territory by exploiting the weakness of the Clans around us; if we are to expand our borders, it will be through battles with honorable warriors, as Starclan intends.” Even as he said it, he could tell Crookedstar was still skeptical. He wasn’t able to hold it against the other tom; he was certain that if Tigerclaw was speaking the same words, that he would absolutely intend to eventually use the favor against Riverclan. “Be honest with me, and with yourself, Crookedstar; if you cannot find prey by tomorrow, how many in your Clan will die of starvation?”

The tabby’s pale green eyes fell to the water he was sitting in, and he knew instantly that Crookedstar was picturing gaunt faces staring at him from the rocks. Had cats already died? “Be that as it may,” Crookedstar admitted with a heavy sigh, “the Clans have always survived independently. Starclan may - there will be those that go to greet them, but that is a warrior’s lot in life. I cannot burden my Clan to change that.”

“Perhaps it is not the duty of a warrior to care what happens to another Clan.” Fireheart answered readily, watching the leader’s proud stature even as his eyes were full of hunger, and his skin clung to his bones. “After all, the code tells us to care for our Clans above all else. But I have watched the code be used to defend driving out other Clans for the sake of one; I have watched the code be used to defend cold-blooded murder. Perhaps the code tells me that I should turn my back on Riverclan now, so that we can take Sunningrocks from the corpse of your Clan once the floodwaters go down. But I believe that being a warrior is about mercy as much as it is about strength, and so I will do what I can to alleviate your suffering, regardless of what the code says.”

They stared each other down for another long moment before Crookedstar’s eyes flicked to the two warriors behind him. “And what of you two? Do you agree with what your deputy says?” The leader asked dryly.

Fireheart didn’t dare look them in the eyes. “The code says that we cannot neglect a kit, no matter their origin.” He heard Peppermask mew behind him. “If we were to leave now to let your kits starve, then I think we would be breaking the code. If hunting for your Clan means that the kits will eat, and live, then it is my duty as a warrior to do so. Fireheart’s offer may be unconventional, but I believe he’s right.”

“Uh, yeah.” Graystripe mewed from his other side. “What my sister said.”

Crookedstar looked unable to believe his ears, his twisted jaw dropping slightly at their words. He looked down at his paws once again, seriously considering everything that had been said. “Perhaps you all have the bold-faced audacity to lie to my face.” He said at last, looking back up into Fireheart’s eyes with a vulnerable honesty he hadn’t had before. “But there is only so much I can do to argue when my Clan is dying. We barely managed to escape the flood when it surged through our camp. Frogleap is still missing because of it. My duty is to protect my Clan, no matter the cost. And whether the cost is Sunningrocks, or the river, or all of our lands; the code says that is a cost I must accept.” He looked away with another heavy sigh. “Very well. If Thunderclan should grant us some of their prey, then I will not - can not - turn it away.”

He wished he could convince the leader that his words were genuine, with no cost attached - but he knew better than to try. “We’ll be in the clearing behind us every day just after dawn. We’ll hunt for you until the floodwaters leave Sunningrocks.” He flicked his tail for the patrol to turn to leave. “Hopefully that day will come quickly.”

“Hopefully.” Crookedstar murmured, turning away from them and swimming back towards the rocks his Clan were huddled on without a further word. Fireheart turned away into the bracken as well, exhaustion from fighting the floodwaters and the task ahead creeping over him.

He had only stepped a few tail-lengths into the forest before Peppermask was whirling on him. “Are you mad?” She hissed - not angrily, he could tell, but from genuine fear. “How are you going to explain this to the rest of the Clan?”

He met her gaze evenly. He was past the point of caring what the Clan thought of him anymore - but he didn’t dare tell her that. “I won’t.” He replied simply, brushing past her to lead them back to camp. “They don’t have to even find out. How long can it be until the floods subside? A half-moon, maybe, or even a quarter-moon? If Graystripe could go moons without being caught having a Riverclan mate, I doubt anyone will even notice.” Even if they did, what would they do? The only cat that could exile him was curled up in her nest and could barely be prodded out. “I’m the deputy, after all. I can arrange the patrols to make sure no one’s ever around to find us. Besides, don’t you two pretend you didn’t want to offer the same thing.”

“There’s a difference between wanting to do something and actually doing it!” Still, he could hear her beginning to relax - his points made sense, after all. “Are you really planning on just the three of us doing this?”

“We’re both good hunters, and we have Graystripe to help as well.” Back when they were apprentices, that would have been a teasing joke, but there was no humor in his voice now. “That’s the size of an average hunting patrol. We could recruit others to help, but I don’t know if there’s anyone I’d trust to agree with what we’re doing and keep it a secret. We may not catch enough to feed their entire Clan, but hopefully it will at least be enough to keep them from starving.”

Peppermask was silent, clearly still trying to rationalize everything in her head. After a moment, he was surprised to hear Graystripe speak up. “I- Thank you, Fireheart. You didn’t have to do that.”

He didn’t look at the large tom behind him, keeping his eyes on the forest ahead. “I didn’t do it for you.” He responded.

“I know, but- still.” Graystripe didn’t have to say anything else - he already knew what the other was thinking. Kits, then queens, were fed first amongst all of the Clan. If the kits had been starving, then that meant that Silverstream had gone without food for just as long, if not longer, than they had. It was possible that if they didn’t help, she would have died. 

As much as he told Graystripe it hadn’t been for him, he couldn’t lie and pretend that hadn’t been in his mind when he had first offered to hunt for Riverclan. No matter what he thought of his former friend and his ill-fated romance, some small and sentimental part of him would never let Graystripe’s kits die. And though the task in front of them felt formidable to face down, he wouldn’t let fear stop him from doing the right thing.

Peppermask was already waiting for them at the entrance to camp, and they solemnly filed out and along the ravine. They nodded to Lionheart and Thornpaw, who were keeping watch over the stream waters. The storms had finally stopped that evening, but Fireheart didn’t want to risk being caught unprepared until the flood finally subsided.

Once they were in the forest at large, they took off towards Tallpines. The giant tree-cutting Monsters there had quieted during the storms, their paws too heavy to move in the slick mud. Though the rest of the Clan was avoiding the hunting grounds in case the Monsters awoke again, it meant that it was easy for Fireheart and his friends to hunt undisturbed.

They were lucky - the Monsters were quiet once again that night. While most prey avoided Tallpines in leafbare, much like Thunderclan did, there were still those that were bold enough to try their luck foraging amongst the pine needles. Once the moon had set below the treeline, the three gathered their catches and made their way to the forest clearing that they would meet the Riverclan cats in.

Fireheart began pawing through the freshkill, dividing up what they would give to Riverclan and what they would bring back for their own Clan. After all, it would be suspicious if they returned smelling of prey but empty-pawed. He selected a cardinal, a couple of mice, and a sparrow for them to bring back to their own camp. They were meager offerings, especially compared to the significant pile that they had actually caught, but it would be enough to keep the Clan off of them, or so he hoped.

He looked up as the bushes on the far side of the clearing rustled, and two silver mollies stepped out to greet them. He recognized them instantly; Mistyskip and Silverstream. He was surprised to see Greystripe trot over to greet his mate, and his jaw dropped open in shock as the two nuzzled warmly against each other.

“I already know about them.” Mistyskip explained as she walked around them, giving the two side-eye as she did so. “Silverstream isn’t the most subtle cat in the Clans. Thankfully, most of Riverclan is too oblivious to notice. Or, I suppose, too scared of her father to say anything.”

Fireheart nodded, even as he averted his eyes from the two that were now twining tails together. “Graystripe is about as subtle as a lopsided badger. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Starclan themselves must be watching over him to keep them from being caught.” He huffed bitterly at the thought.

The silver warrior rolled her blue eyes with a small sigh. “Ah, well. You still have to love family, don’t you?”

The two Thunderclan warriors gave her a flat stare in response. “Do you know how we found out they were going to have kits?” Fireheart asked, knowing full well she hadn’t.

She angled her head curiously towards them. “I assume Graystripe told you, as Silverstream told me.” She replied evenly, though he could tell she was already wary of what they would say.

“He did.” Peppermask mewed beside him. He could feel his claws churning the earth beneath him as he recalled what had transpired less than two moons ago. “Brokentail’s rogues attacked us after sunhigh, when most cats had already left on patrol. We managed to get every cat to return to camp to fend them off… every cat but Graystripe, who was ‘hunting’.”

“That was the moonhigh I was named deputy.” Fireheart added, struggling to keep his tone calm and sociable. Even now, the memory brought back a level of rage he’d never felt before. “It wasn’t until the moon was setting, close to dawn, that Graystripe finally returned. We were guarding camp together, and he came straight over to us - didn’t even look around. It’s a good thing no cat died in that attack, or I’m sure he would’ve stood on their body to tell us.”

“Great Starclan.” Mistyskip breathed, stunned by the level of impudence that Graystripe had shown them. “I’d have been furious with him. He’s lucky you didn’t shred his pelt over it.”

“If words could wound, Fireheart would’ve killed him, I’m certain.” Peppermask chuffed, even as her dark tail tip twitched with the same anger that he himself was feeling. “Even threatened to exile him over it. He’s nicer than me - I would’ve just done it, in his paws. He knew for months how dangerous Tigerclaw was, and yet…”

“Y’know, I’ve been wanting to ask.” Fireheart perked his ears as Mistyskip spoke, her voice cautious but tinged with a familiar curiosity. “When you two were asking me about Oakheart and Sunningrocks - was that to do with Tigerclaw?”

“It was.” The ginger tom grimaced, even as he dipped his head in affirmation. It hurt that they had been so close to getting rid of Tigerclaw before he could harm Thunderclan - and now that he had betrayed them, nothing would ever be the same. “Tigerclaw claimed that Oakheart killed Redtail, and he had killed Oakheart in revenge. We proved that to be false - which put the rest of his testimony into question.”

“Oh.” Realization dawned in the molly’s pale blue eyes, and she looked at them with something akin to pity. His fur prickled uncomfortably at her gaze; to speak of such weakness in one’s Clan with an enemy warrior was unheard of, like showing one’s belly in the heat of battle. But Riverclan had already willingly done so with him; it felt only fair to reciprocate now. “Oh. I’d always wondered what happened to Redtail - none of your warriors ever really said. I didn’t - I had no idea…”

“Neither did they, really.” Peppermask admitted with a sigh. “Tigerclaw had nearly every cat fooled. Would have fooled me, even, if it hadn’t been for Fireheart. I just- I wish we could’ve stopped him, before it was too late.”

“I know you did your best. You’re the smartest cat in Thunderclan - and you too, Fireheart, if you figured all of that out on your own.” Mistyskip huffed and glanced at where Silverstream and Graystripe were cleaning each other. “Would that I could say the same for your brother…”

“He’s a lost cause.” The gray tabby sneered beside him, flicking her ear irritably in his direction. “But enough about our problems. How is Riverclan faring?”

Mistyskip’s nose twitched, and he could see shame on her face as she looked briefly at the freshkill that they had gathered for Riverclan. Most of the Riverclan cats Crookedstar had sent had come, tails low, to retrieve the gift before skulking back to their temporary home. Fireheart knew that none of them wanted to accept any gift from Thunderclan, their longtime enemies, and that many of them believed that they would be better off without outside help. But despite their misgivings, none had so far rejected the prey offered.

“Spirits are low, and there’s still a great deal of contempt towards Crookedstar for agreeing to this, but at least every cat has had something to eat in the past couple of days.” The silver Riverclanner admitted slowly, her tail tip flicking as she thought about what awaited her back in camp. “Personally, I’m glad that he did. My mother, Graypool, was refusing to eat until the queens and kits were fed. So were the rest of the elders, but she especially was fading away. She said she’d be glad to give her life to make sure that they lived, but thanks to you three we don’t have to make that choice. She’ll survive leafbare now, and hopefully many seasons beyond.”

Her eyes crinkled in fondness as she thought of the cranky elder. Fireheart watched her, the chilly sunrise several moons ago in which he’d spoken with Graypool at the forefront of his mind. It was obvious that Mistyskip still didn’t know the truth. What would she say if she knew she was half-Clan, like Silverstream’s kits? That her true mother had died, exiled from Thunderclan for the crime of loving a Riverclan tom?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He blinked and realized that he had been staring at Mistyskip while he thought of the secret that only he and Peppermask knew. Now she was looking back at him, clearly unsettled by how he was watching her.

“I- sorry.” He mumbled quickly, shaking his head. He’d promised Graypool not to tell her - nor would he tell anyone else. It didn’t matter that Mistyskip was half-Clan; she was a Riverclan warrior, and that was all that mattered. “Hearing other cats talk about their mothers - it makes me wish I had my own nearby sometimes, that’s all.”

He wasn’t sure she believed him, but dipped her head in understanding all the same.“What about the rest of the Clan? Aspenkit, Robinkit, and Dawnkit - are they doing alright?” He was thankful to hear Peppermask jump in, distracting the other molly from his disconcerting demeanor.

The Riverclan molly sighed and looked out towards the river, her blue eyes half-lidded. “They’re… alright, all things considered. Their father, Frogleap, went out to look for them when they went missing, but never returned because of the flooding. We’ve been telling them that he’s fine, and probably in Fourtrees waiting for the water to go down… but truth be told, we just don’t know.”

Fireheart winced as she spoke. Being separated from one’s Clan, even temporarily, was bad enough; with the flood, he couldn’t imagine what Frogleap must be thinking, if he was still alive at all. “I’d offer to go check on Fourtrees for you, but we still can’t reach it from our side of the river.”

She sighed and nodded slowly. “I suspected as much. It doesn’t matter, in any case; we will find him once the floods subside, one way or another.” She shook her pelt out and got to her feet with another sigh. “We should get going. The Clan is getting hungry, and I know you have your own matters to attend to. Silverstream! Hurry up now.”

They all glanced over at the two cross-Clan mates, who were pressed against each other so tightly it looked as if they were trying to merge into one. Reluctantly, the two separated, Silverstream winding gracefully across the clearing to stand by her cousin. She still looked painfully skinny, Fireheart realized, even though she was carrying kits; unlike Goldenflower and Princess, whose swollen bellies had seemed to make them twice as wide, she didn’t even have a noticeable bump. 

He watched them gather up the waiting fresh-kill carefully, waving goodbye to the three Thunderclan cats before turning and leaving the way they had come. Fireheart turned to Graystripe, who stank of Riverclan and Silverstream. “You need to wash your coat before we return to camp. We all do, actually, with how long we’ve been sitting here.” He couldn’t smell Mistyskip’s scent on him, but he was sure that those in camp would. “Let’s see about going home by the stream near-”

He paused as he heard rustling behind them. A squirrel? He turned curiously to look, and was shocked to see two green eyes glaring furiously at him. “Sandstorm?” He gasped, nearly falling over himself as he backed up slightly. “What- why are you-”

“I’d ask what you’re doing here, but I’ve already seen enough to figure that out.” The cream molly spat as she slid into the open, her tail lashing furiously. “Sneaking out at night, returning to camp in the morning while stinking of all kinds of prey but barely carrying any - you might have fooled the rest of the Clan, but I have a better nose than that.” She drew herself up with righteous fury as she glared at the three Thunderclan cats. “I can’t wait to hear what the Clan thinks of this.”

Peppermask looked at him in abject horror, but Fireheart barely paid her any mind. While he hadn’t outright been expecting this, he had prepared for someone to catch them sooner or later - he just hadn’t expected Sandstorm, of all cats. “You’re not to tell the Clan any of this. I’m your deputy, or have you forgotten that?” He could feel the two tabbies behind him tense, already expecting the other warrior to lash out, but he stood firm and tall in front of her. “It’s true that we’re feeding Riverclan, but it’s actually on Bluestar’s orders. And it’s because of her orders that we didn’t tell the rest of the Clan, as she feared they wouldn’t understand - much like you right now.”

Sandstorm stared back at him, blinking slowly. He could tell that she didn’t believe a word he said, but was stunned by the confidence in which he was willing to lie to her face. “You’re telling me Bluestar told you to break the code?” She drawled, pouring contempt into each and every word.

“It’s not breaking the code to give prey to another Clan.” He sat down, keeping his unblinking gaze fixed on her as he did so. He knew full well that if he showed any fear, she would know he was lying; so he forced himself to stay confident as he spoke. “Bluestar believes that there should always be four Clans in the forest. That is why she sent us to bring Windclan home. With these floods, Riverclan cannot swim in the river without risking getting swept away; they have no territory on which to hunt, and are already weak and starving from leafbare. Without food, they would be decimated. She doesn’t want to risk Riverclan being wiped out entirely.”

The tawny molly stared at him, clearly trying to parse how he could be so bold when she thought she’d caught him in a lie. “Why would Bluestar care about a bunch of hungry Riverclanners?” She scoffed after a few tense heartbeats.

“As I said - they were on the verge of starvation. Even their kits were starving, and you know how deeply Bluestar cares for kits after-” He suddenly cut himself off as the question rattled something loose in his subconscious. Bluestar’s kits had been lost long ago, though no one had ever told him how. He’d assumed, of course, that something tragic had happened to them - perhaps that they had fallen in the river, given how often she seemed to stare mournfully across the watery expanse. But what if he was wrong?

He turned to stare at the direction Mistyskip and Silverstream had gone, everything suddenly falling into place. Bluestar had lost her kits long ago. Whenever they approached the river, she always seemed sad and withdrawn. And then there was Mistyskip, who looked exactly like a young and scarless Bluestar, and had a Thunderclan mother. From what Graypool had told him, he’d imagined that Mistyskip’s mother was dead or exiled - but what if that wasn’t the case? What if she still lived in Thunderclan? 

What if Bluestar was Mistyskip’s real mother?

“After what?” He blinked out of his thoughts as Sandstorm spoke and turned back to meet her eyes. Now was not the time for such revelations, he knew. And though his mind was reeling over what he had just realized, he could not think about it now. It would have to wait until later, when he was alone.

“After she lost her own.” He finished with a dip of his head. “She is adamant that no kit starve if they don’t have to - and if that means feeding another Clan, so be it.” He flicked an ear, pretending to be irritated. “You can ask Bluestar herself if you don’t find her reasons suitable the next time you see her. For now, though, you can help us carry this back to camp.”

Even though she glared at him angrily, her tail lowered in defeat. “I very well might.” She growled as she padded past him to angrily snatch up the cardinal, before whirling around and storming away towards camp. With a nod, the other three Thunderclanners picked up what little freshkill remained before following her.

“Is your brain full of bees?” Peppermask hissed to Fireheart as she padded alongside him, out of Sandstorm’s earshot. “Bluestar doesn’t know any of this! If Sandstorm tells her-”

The gray molly beside him shivered in the cold, and he quickly pressed into her side to keep her warm. “Soon.” He murmured softly to her. “How much longer until sunrise, do you think?”

She glanced up at the sky, where the stars were beginning to dull. “The moon has already passed the horizon. It can’t be long now.” She kneaded the ground anxiously, her paws dipping in and out of the snow. “I don’t know how long I can wait, though. What if she doesn’t come after all?”

“She will.” He promised, keeping his eyes on the river. It was still iced over, but there were several dark interruptions in the smooth white surface. “What’s that in the ice over there?” He asked her, trying to keep her mind off of the current circumstances.

She blinked and slowly followed his gaze. “The stepping stones? I don’t know that much more than you do about them, except what One-eye’s told us. I guess when Thunderclan owns Sunningrocks, there’s a Riverclan guard posted on them to keep us from crossing at all times. It seems likely that they lead deep into Riverclan territory, though you won’t catch me crossing them!”

Fireheart twitched an ear in her direction. “How come?” He mewed curiously.

She scoffed, creating tiny puffs of mist that dissipated into the still air. “Think about it! Those rocks are barely a whisker-length above the water’s surface, at best. Even the smallest wave could cover them, and that means those rocks are slick and wet all the time. Think about how difficult the tree crossing to the Gathering is, and remember that you can grip into that!”

The mention of the slippery log sent shivers racing down Fireheart’s spine. “Yeah, I get it. Besides, crossing them would be pretty much an act of war if Riverclan’s that eager to defend them, huh?”

“Precisely. I’ll keep my paws dry on this side of the river.” Her paws finally quelled, and she tucked them neatly beneath her as she sat down on a dry patch of ground. “Leave that water stuff to the fish-eaters.” 

He had to agree with the sentiment. His near-drowning had been enough of the river for an entire lifetime. The two sat in silence, their fur pressed together as they waited for the Riverclan elder. They watched as the sky began to brighten, the sun’s rays bringing the first hints of light and warmth.

“There she is.” Fireheart turned his attention to the river, where two dark shapes were crossing the stepping stones. “There’s someone else with her, though.” Peppermask murmured nervously to him. “I thought she’d come alone.”

They crouched down in unison, wary of being seen this close to Sunningrocks by the unknown companion. Then as the two grew closer Peppermask perked back up. “Nevermind, that’s Mistyskip! I guess she just didn’t want her mom coming out here by herself.”

Fireheart blinked, spotting the shine of silver fur as they reached the bank. The gray molly beside him was right; Mistyskip was helping her mother across the stones, carefully feeling out the ground to make sure there were no slick patches - though even from here, he could hear Graypool grumbling about not needing any help. Once they had crossed, she raised her head to look around, her blue eyes catching the little sunlight in the sky briefly as she searched.

Peppermask delicately collected the cardinal she had dropped and emerged from the forest, the ruddy warrior quickly following behind her. Mistyskip raised her tail in greeting as they approached, which both Thunderclanners returned in kind.

No cat spoke until Peppermask had presented the fresh-kill to Graypool. She sniffed briefly at the cardinal with disdain, but he could see the hunger in her green eyes. “Well, at least you two remember your manners, Thunderclan or not.” She rasped, crouching down and taking a bite into it. His stomach growled as he watched, but he didn’t dare ask for a bite himself. “A bit stringy, but I suppose it’ll do.” She grumbled, even as she took another mouthful.

Mistyskip sighed softly as she looked around the empty rocks. “You two weren’t followed, were you?” She asked quietly, as though afraid to speak in the still leafbare air.

“No. There won’t be any Thunderclan patrols until halfway to sunhigh.” The gray tabby beside him replied. “We won’t be disturbed for a while.”

The silver Riverclanner nodded, but there was no response from Graypool until she had devoured every last bit of the cardinal. It hurt a part of Fireheart to watch - that cardinal could have been enough for several elders to share - but he knew that whatever secret the old Riverclan molly held was worth it. At last she sat up, swiping her tongue around her muzzle with satisfaction. “Mistyskip, go guard the stepping stones. Make sure we’re not being followed. As for you two - come with me.”

Her daughter’s blue eyes widened in surprise. “But I-”

“Don’t talk back to me!” The gray elder snarled, causing the warrior to shrink back a bit. “You said you trusted these two, didn’t you? I’m sure I can handle a quick walk with them alone.” 

He could see the shock, hurt and confusion swirling in Mistyskip’s gaze. Why wouldn’t her mother allow her to hear whatever she had to say to the two Thunderclanners? Still, after several tense heartbeats she swallowed and dipped her head respectfully. “Of course. I’ll wait for you to finish here.”

“Good.” The elder stood and flicked her tail for the two Thunderclanners to follow her into the looming stacks of stone that filled the clearing. With a wary glance at each other, the young warriors followed her, their hearts nervously racing in time.

The shadows soon swallowed them, but Graypool navigated her way through the rocks with a deft sureness that could only come with experience. They were soon alone in the stone maze, whatever sounds that they made being muffled from the outside world.

At last she came to a stop and turned to face them. “Now then.” She began, her emerald gaze still flicking around as though she expected to see another cat burst in at any moment. “Mistyskip has told you that I’m her mother, and Stonestep’s and Mosspatch’s?” 

Fireheart glanced at his companion beside him. “Yes, that’s correct.” He finally mewed respectfully, taking a seat on the chilly stone.

“Well, I’m not.”

The two Thunderclanners stared at her, stunned. She paused for a heartbeat, as though expecting an outburst from either of them, before continuing on. “I raised them alongside my own kits, yes, and watched them blossom into the warriors they are today, but I did not give birth to them.” Graypool’s eyes were soft as she glanced towards where Mistyskip was likely keeping watch. “It was Oakheart who brought them to me, in the heat of greenleaf, when they were barely old enough to walk. He told me that he had found them, and that they needed milk if they were to survive. I was the only nursing queen at the time; without me taking them in, they likely would have died.”

Of all the things that he had been expecting Graypool to say, admitting that Stonestep, Mistyskip and Mosspatch weren’t hers was not one of them. “But where did he get them?” Fireheart blurted out the first question that came to him as he reeled from the revelation.

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment he worried he’d said something to anger her and that she would clam up entirely. “He told me that he’d come across them by the forest, as if they’d just been abandoned by Twolegs.” She growled, and he suddenly realized her anger wasn’t with the Thunderclanner’s question - it was with Oakheart. “But I’m not stupid, and my nose has always worked just fine. The kits smelled of the earth and flowers and leaves, like they had traveled through the forest. But there was another scent beneath that - the scent of Thunderclan.”

“What?” Peppermask gasped beside him, her question little more than a wheeze. “But how? Did Oakheart steal them from us?”

The old queen bristled at her question. “Oakheart was one of Riverclan’s most noble warriors! He would never dare stoop to stealing kits!” She spat furiously at the other molly, her claws extending slightly as she glared down at them.

The two immediately crouched submissively at the elder’s berating. “I-I’m sorry! I just - I don’t understand. How else could they have Thunderclan scent on them?”

The Riverclan molly glared furiously down at them for a moment longer before sighing and flattening her fur. “There’s no need to apologize.” She mewed, giving her rough chest fur a couple of dignified licks. “Truth be told, I wondered the same thing, at first.”

The Thunderclanners glanced at each other warily. “But then, why did you agree to take them in?” Fireheart asked softly. “Why didn’t you just take them back immediately?”

Graypool nodded, expecting the question. “They were weak from their travels, much too young to be far from their mother. If I hadn’t taken them in, they wouldn’t have survived the night.” She sighed softly, her eyes filling with distant memories. “And I had my own selfish reasons, too. My mate had just died in a battle over these rocks, and my kits would grow up without a father to watch over them. Oakheart promised to take care of all of my litter if I took them in as if they were his own. It was the only chance my kits would have at getting a father at all.”

 “Surely you must have known how much their mother would be suffering without them!” Peppermask’s tone was harsh, and Fireheart winced at the expectation of another outburst. “Just because it would have made your life easier doesn’t excuse leaving her to her grief!”

The elder gave her a bitter glare. “You think I didn’t know that? That night, as I let them feed, I could only picture their mother. I imagined her searching the territory frantically for any sign of them. I thought of how my own heart would be torn to shreds if that ever happened to my own kits.” She blinked quickly, as though trying to fight back tears. “The next morning, while they slumbered, I went to Crookedstar - then a young leader, having no more than a season of experience.”

“Crookedstar?” Fireheart’s ears perked curiously. It was strange to think of him as a new leader, though logically he hadn’t always been head of Riverclan. “What did he say?”

“I told him about Oakheart, and the kits, and the Thunderclan scent on them. I expected him to admit to having them stolen - or at the very least, be oblivious as to what had happened.” She shook her head slowly. “His reaction was strange. He was weary, resigned to what I had told him. He told me not to worry about their mother, and asked if I was refusing to take care of him. I told him that I would, of course - the kits would die without my care, after all.”

His head tilted in confusion. “He said not to worry? So he knew what had happened, then?” The ruddy warrior asked, trying to puzzle out what she had told him.

“He seemed to have some idea, at least, though what exactly he knew he never told me. But he was a good leader, and I trusted him - if he truly thought that their mother wasn’t worried about them, then I believed him.” She sighed and looked away from them, her whiskers twitching. “So I tried to put their origins out of my mind. I raised them as if they were my own kits.”

“But how could you be sure he was telling the truth?” Peppermask pressed, her tail twitching beside him. “What if he was just covering for his brother?”

The elder’s lip curled to show her fangs once more. “Back then, they weren’t exactly close. And to tell the truth, he seemed angry with Oakheart when I spoke to him - like they had just had another argument. I think that if they were stolen, he would have told me.” After a moment, she dipped her head. “But I too had the same thoughts, back then. I couldn’t help but wonder every time I looked at them if this was a moment their mother was so desperately missing.”

“So one moon, when they were old enough for me to spend a night away, I went to the Gathering in search of answers.” She continued, not pausing for any questions. Fireheart didn’t have any in any case, hanging on her every word. “I asked the Thunderclan queens if any kits had gone missing from their nursery in the past season.”

Peppermask winced beside him, and he glanced at her in confusion. “What’s wrong with that?” He wondered out loud in bewilderment.

“They didn’t react kindly.” Graypool’s gaze was narrow as she recalled the past. “Implying that a Clan’s queens aren’t able to handle their kits is the height of dishonor, especially from an enemy Clan. After all, the fighting over Sunningrocks had been bitter that season.”

“But you had reason to believe that kits had gone missing from their nursery!” Fireheart exclaimed, his tail lashing. “You knew it for a fact! Why wouldn’t you ask that?”

The elder rolled her green eyes at his words. “I don’t expect a tom to be able to understand. Regardless, they all quite vigorously agreed that they had not lost any kits.” She closed her eyes and slowly took a breath in and out. “I knew then that I was their only mother now. That if I didn’t look after them, no one would.”

Peppermask’s tail was still twitching beside him. “But maybe she was still out there! Maybe she just didn’t attend that Gathering - not all of our queens are able to go, after all. You couldn’t know-”

“Would you have me anger every queen in Thunderclan just to be told off again and again?” Graypool snarled at the other molly, her ears flattening as her claws unsheathed again. “If they truly had their kits stolen by us, I’m certain one of them would have said something. But they didn’t. Oakheart didn’t steal those kits…” She trailed off for a moment. “Not by choice, anyways.”

The ginger tom perked his ears curiously. “What do you mean, ‘by choice’? Are you saying his brother forced him to, somehow?”

She chuffed in dry amusement at his question. “Crookedstar couldn’t force Oakheart to do anything he didn’t want to. Not even when he was his brother’s deputy.” She looked away briefly. “But Oakheart followed the warrior code just as much as - if not more than - his brother did. If he found those kits in danger, then he would be obligated to save them.”

Fireheart’s brow furrowed as he listened. It made sense, but how would Thunderclan kits come to be in danger without their mother knowing? “What do you mean?” Peppermask asked, interrupting his thoughts. “Are you saying he found them in danger in our nursery?”

“Not quite.” Graypool fixed them with a hard stare. “Not many cats are alive that remember, but I was born half-Clan.”

The two Thunderclanners stared at the cranky elder with wide eyes, unable to form the words to respond. Graypool’s own green eyes were half-lidded as she watched them, her whiskers twitching as if she were amused by their reactions. “What’s the matter? Fox got your tongues?” Her raspy voice made it hard to tell if there was a slight purr to her words. “I suppose you two don’t know many openly half-Clan cats, do you? Thunderclan likes to pretend such affairs are against the code - ‘Your loyalty must be to your Clan’, and all.”

Fireheart glanced cautiously at Peppermask, who was rigid beside him. “You mean half-Clan cats aren’t against the code?” He asked, his curiosity getting the better of him now. He remembered his first formal lesson about the code - Tinyfrost had made it seem like cross-Clan relationships were expressly forbidden.

Graypool’s lip curled, though he couldn’t tell whether it was in disgust or amusement. “The code only says that your loyalty must belong to your Clan. If you’re able to have a mate in another Clan and still fight against that Clan in battle, then that’s entirely your business.” She rolled her eyes with a derogatory scoff. “Of course, in practice, it becomes a bit harder to fight when you know you’re wounding your mate’s mother - the grandmother of your kits. Or your mate’s closest confidante, there for them even when you aren’t. My parents learned that lesson the hard way.”

“My father was a Windclan warrior, and my mother a Riverclan queen.” Graypool explained, now that Fireheart and Peppermask seemed to have gotten over their shock of learning that half-Clan cats existed. “Most of my kithood was the two Clans bitterly fighting over who should get my sister and I. In the end, we were raised in Riverclan, but many in the Clan resented us and our mother for dragging our Clans into a needless war.”

Fireheart recalled the anger and hostility with which he had been greeted on his first day when he was revealed to be a kittypet. He could only imagine the hatred they would have had for him if they had had to fight a war on his behalf. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He mewed at last. He wondered briefly about Graystripe and Silverstream, and how close they had already come to causing war between their Clans. No wonder Thunderclan forbade cross-Clan romance!

“One day, when I was a young apprentice cleaning out their bedding, a couple of elders cornered me in their den.” She continued, ignoring Fireheart’s sympathies. “They told me a story about a Thunderclan queen and her Riverclan mate, several generations before I was born.”

He tilted his head, still unsure where this was going. “I’ve never heard our elders speak of such a tale.” He mewed after a moment.

“Well, of course they wouldn’t.” She scoffed. He didn’t get to ask what she meant as she continued on. “The Thunderclan queen had three kits with her mate, and she loved each of them with all her heart, just as she loved her mate. She often took them to the river to meet their father, and to play in the shallows like a Riverclan kit. She had hopes that by raising them to embrace both Clans, they would one day create an era of peace between us - where we did not fight needlessly over these barren rocks.”

He couldn’t help but picture the Thunderclan - Riverclan romance that he knew was happening at this very moment. Surely Graystripe and Silverstream wouldn’t be foolish enough to believe they could do the same, could they? After all, this queen’s plan obviously hadn’t worked. “What happened then?” He asked, fear suddenly rising in his throat. He could feel that this tale would not have a happy ending.

“One day, she was caught by a Thunderclan patrol, led by the leader himself. He was furious to discover her deception.” He thought he detected a slight warble in the elder’s voice. “He had the patrol pin her down and kill her mate while she watched.”

“That’s horrible!” Peppermask gasped beside him, and even as he shivered he nodded in agreement. “Bluestar would never do such a thing.”

Graypool shrugged nonchalantly. “Perhaps Bluestar wouldn’t, but Thunderclan leaders have done barbaric things in the past.” Her tone made him shiver again, but he didn’t dare ask any questions as she continued. “The Thunderclan queen begged him to release her, but he wasn’t done yet. He turned to the kits and said that they too must be punished for the sins of their parents.”

He felt bile rise in his throat at the thought. “You’re not-” He choked out.

The elder’s tail twitched menacingly. “He said that they must return to the river that they came from. Then he drowned them, one by one, while the Thunderclan queen watched helplessly. At last, when he was done, he exiled her from Thunderclan. She fled, far away from the Clans, never to be seen again.”

They sat in painful silence for several heartbeats. “The elders may have some tall tales, but that one was true.” Graypool spoke at last. “Every word of it. They told me that I was lucky Hailstar didn’t do the same to me. But Riverclan would never be so cruel to its kits - not like Thunderclan.”

“So what? Why does that matter?” Peppermask’s face was twisted in rage and grief for the fallen mother and her kits. “Bluestar would never do that to any cat in our Clan, regardless of how they’d broken the code! It’s just - it’s wrong!” 

“Perhaps Bluestar wouldn’t, but she wasn’t leader when I took in Oakheart’s kits. She wasn’t even deputy at the time.” Graypool’s voice was low and dark, a twisted whisper as she watched the two Thunderclanners. “You two weren’t alive when Pinestar reigned. Can you truly say he wouldn’t have done the same as his predecessors?”

Fireheart pressed against Peppermask, who was shivering - from the shock or the cold, he couldn’t say. “So you think Pinestar killed their mother for having half-Clan kits?” He finally asked, trying to piece together what they had learned.

“Perhaps not. Perhaps she merely died after exile, without the safety of a Clan to protect her and her kits. Who can say?” Graypool shrugged softly. “But it explains the Thunderclan scent, and why the Thunderclan queens were so sure they hadn’t lost any kits. They hadn’t, after all - the kits were merely exiled, for the crime of having a Riverclan father.” She sighed and glanced at her paws. “Perhaps they’re not even Oakheart’s at all. But I can see him in them; in Mosspatch’s eyes, in Stonestep’s fur, in the way Mistyskip flicks her ears. I think he watched their mother die and saved them before they could suffer the same fate.”

He shook his head slowly at the thought. Exiling kits - he was certain Bluestar would never do such a thing. He remembered how furious she had been at the sight of Volepaw and Mosspaw, exiled by Brokentail’s thoughtless cruelty. “Do Mistyskip, Stonestep, and Mosspatch know about this?” He wondered out loud.

He had barely even thought about the question before Graypool was snarling in his face. “Now you listen to me, and listen well.” She hissed at him. “They know nothing, and if you tell them what I just told you I’ll rip your liver out and feed it to the crows.” 

He shrank beneath her bared fangs, and after a moment she retreated. “They’ve never doubted that I’m their real mother. Mistyskip especially worries after me like a mother after her kit. And I even like to think they look like me.”

“They do.” Fireheart mewed with a firm nod. “They have your silver fur.”

Even as he said that, something nagged at him in the back of his mind. He almost felt like he’d said those words before, but he’d never spoken to a silver queen about her kits. Still, Graypool nodded in satisfaction. “They’ve always been loyal to Riverclan. I don’t want that loyalty to be divided, not like mine was.” She glanced up at him, wisdom shining in her eyes. “I’ve heard plenty about you, Fireheart, and how you were born outside of the Clans. You’ve spent your time fighting to prove your loyalty to Thunderclan, so you surely understand why I don’t want them to worry about their loyalty to Riverclan.”

He nodded. Even though his only outside allegiance was with his sister, he still had felt his heart torn in two when it came to her. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have to fight your own family like a half-Clan cat would. “I promise you now, beneath Starclan’s sparkling skies, that I will never tell them the truth.”

The gray elder’s whiskers twitched in amusement at his words. “They’re not sparkling any more.” She pointed out, glancing up to above them. She was right - by now, the sky was a brilliant pink, and all the stars in the sky had vanished. “Still, though they may not be seen right now, I have no doubt they are watching and have heard your oath.” She turned her green gaze on Peppermask. “And you?”

She slowly nodded. “Of course, Graypool. If you believe that’s what’s best for Mistyskip, I will never tell her or her littermates the truth.”

The cantankerous queen sighed and stretched out. “I hope that explains what Oakheart said during that fateful battle. Redtail was an apprentice when Oakheart brought those kits to me - I have no doubt that he witnessed their mother’s exile, and knew the truth about their parentage. Oakheart would have known the same. And while he raised his kits to be loyal to Riverclan above all else, it seems he still had divided loyalties on their behalf.” She stood back up and flicked her tail. “Now come. There’s no reason for you to linger on our territory, especially not after last night.”

They diligently followed her back through the twisting alleys of Sunningrocks until they were on the bank. Mistyskip, who had been sitting and staring into the ice beside the stepping stones, turned quickly at the sound of their pawsteps and sprang up. “Are you finished, mother?” She asked hurriedly, even as she glanced at the two Thunderclanners with a lingering question in her gaze.

“Yes, we are.” Graypool sniffed at the two enemy warriors. “Now go. I won’t tell any cat of your presence here, but if they find you once we’re gone, I won’t defend you either.” With that, she turned and began to step gingerly across the rocks, her daughter following behind her.

Peppermask sat beside him, her tail resting over his; he could feel her tense, as she too wondered if she would be allowed to go. She had been very helpful, making sure that no hunting patrol had come back empty-pawed. And yet, he could all too easily see how Bluestar might overlook her in favor of more experienced warriors, like Whitestorm or Dappleshine.

“Another moon has come and gone, and so it comes time for another Gathering.” Bluestar’s eyes shone in the dim sunset light as she gazed down on the crowd of warriors. “In addition to Tigerclaw, Yellowfang, and Dewpaw, as well as any elders and queens that wish to make the journey, I will be bringing with me Longtail, Mousefur, Dustleap, Fireheart, Cinderspark, Willowbranch, Peppermask, and Graystripe.”

Fireheart gasped in surprise, glancing over to Graystripe nearby, but the tom remained stoic as he gazed up at the leader. Why in Starclan’s name had Bluestar chosen him? Then he recalled the times he and Peppermask had covered for the dark gray tom and claimed he was busy hunting. Perhaps she thought he was more dedicated to the Clan than he actually was.

“We leave at once.” She announced, leaping off the rock. “Whitestorm will be in charge of camp while I am gone. Meeting dismissed.”

Those that had not been called to go left for their dens, some good-natured grumbling amongst them. Fireheart padded over to where Bluestar was waiting, watching as Graystripe ignored them and came to stand beside his mother Willowbranch. They hadn’t talked since that dawn with Silverstream; part of it hurt, not being able to talk to his friend, but this time Fireheart wasn’t the one that had done anything wrong. It was up to Graystripe to come to his senses.

He glanced over as the patrol of elders came over. He wondered briefly if Speckleflight or Snowkit might come, but then he caught sight of the newly retired queen guiding her son into the elders’ den with the help of One-eye. He couldn’t help but frown at the sight; it seemed wrong, watching a young and capable tom walk into a den meant for those who could no longer serve the Clan.

He didn’t get a chance to dwell on it as Bluestar led them out of camp. He walked side by side with Peppermask, but it wasn’t long until Cinderspark was bounding up next to them. “My first Gathering as a warrior!” She crowed to both of them, vibrating from excitement.

“I told you it’d happen.” Fireheart purred to her, glad to see her spirits lifted so high even after everything that had happened in the past few moons. “It’s a shame Mistspring couldn’t come with you. I’m sure she’s just as proud.”

“Yeah, but Yellowfang said she needs to rest her voice, not chatter away like a starling all night.” The dark gray molly sighed for a moment, but she didn’t let the thought get her down. “But it’s okay! I told her I’d tell her everything that happened when I got back!”

He glanced at Peppermask trotting beside him, barely able to suppress a smirk. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.” He managed to mew, not fully able to keep a straight face. Luckily, the newest warrior didn’t seem to notice.

“I know she will! She said she was sure that it’d be exactly like she was there!” Cinderspark replied brightly, oblivious to the snort of laughter from her sister on Fireheart’s other side. “Anyways, I’m gonna go catch up to Graystripe. Bye!” 

They watched as she sprinted off, before the ginger tom finally let loose a fit of giggles. “Poor Mistspring. Cinderspark’s gonna make her go deaf from all her yelling.” He commented to Peppermask.

“Are you sure she isn’t already?” Peppermask retorted mirthfully. “Then again, she must be used to it after seven moons of mentoring her. And it’s better she gets her excitement out with someone that’s used to it rather than us.”

“I guess that’s true.” He replied, just as Bluestar and Tigerclaw began to accelerate their pace. He and Peppermask responded in kind, keeping their eyes and ears open as they raced through the forest. It wasn’t long at all before they were at the log bridge across the river.

“Everyone, be careful crossing!” He heard their leader call out from the front. “The snow-melt has iced in the cold. I don’t want any of you falling in the river tonight.”

Longtail was the first to step up, wrapping his paws around the log and beginning to slide his way across. Fireheart watched for a moment before turning to Peppermask. “At some point, I feel like it would just be safer to use the Thunderpath to cross.” He remarked to her.

“You know Tigerclaw would never.” She mewed back to him with a shake of her head. “Besides, I hear it gets even more dangerous when it’s covered in ice. Monster paws don’t have claws to grip through ice, so when leafbare storms happen, there’s inevitably a few that slide off into the forest. If that happened on the bridge while we were crossing…”

They both shivered at the thought. “I see your point.” Fireheart still remembered how easily the Monster had thrown Brokentail through sheer force, and the former leader’s current state was a regular reminder of the damage Monsters could do. If one attacked an entire Clan, even by accident… no, it was best not to think about that.

It felt like an eternity before the two young warriors finally stepped up to the decayed root system of the log bridge. “You first. You’ll need someone to help fish you out if you fall in again.” Peppermask nudged him with a smirk, whiskers twitching as he glared at her.

“I will not.” He retorted angrily, giving a nod of respect to Bluestar and Tigerclaw standing beside the bridge before delicately stepping up. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his paws around the log just as Longtail had, digging his claws in and slowly scooting his way across. He was sure it looked ridiculous, but he wasn’t going to fall in a second time, especially not with half the Clan watching.

He waited patiently as Peppermask, then Bluestar, then Tigerclaw made their way across. There was little idle chatter as they waited: each cat was too eager to reach Fourtrees, saving their breath for tales of glory and grandeur that they would tell to the other warriors when they arrived.

Their leader led them proudly up the slope to Fourtrees, halting at the edge of the clearing as usual. There were dozens of cats in the crowd below, and he could easily see the six cats sitting on the Great Rock in the middle. It seemed Thunderclan was the last to arrive.

They only hesitated for a moment before Bluestar gave them the signal to charge down into the hollow. There was no need for formalities; each cat knew how to conduct themselves at the Gathering. Fireheart stopped at the edge of the crowd, watching as it parted for Bluestar, Tigerclaw, Yellowfang and Dewpaw to maneuver their way through to the Great Rock.

He turned to see the Thunderclan patrol already dispersing. Graystripe had already disappeared, though it wasn’t long before he caught sight of a flash of silver and saw a large gray tom weaving his way towards it. He didn’t bother hiding his scowl at the sight. It was clear where his former friend’s priorities lay.

He turned, about to ask Peppermask where they might find Mistyskip, but instead bumped into a large gray shoulder. “Oh! I’m so sorry.” He mewed, looking up to see he had run into Stonestep, one of Riverclan’s greatest warriors, who turned to look in surprise.

“Ah, Fireheart! Are you here to join the rest of us in telling your tales?” Stonestep’s tail gestured to the warriors seated near him; large, muscled toms and mollies that were looking at him curiously. “I’m sure Tornear and Mudclaw especially would be eager to hear the tale of how you defeated Brokentail himself!” 

He hesitated, part of him wanting to join in with the Gathering festivities. This was a chance to truly impress some of the greatest warriors in all of the Clans! But, he reminded himself with a quick glance at Peppermask, he had a job to do here. “It’ll have to wait. I was wondering if, uh, Mistyskip was chosen to come to the Gathering this moon?”

“My sister?” Stonestep nodded. “Aye, she’s around. Probably gossiping with the queens, if I had to guess. Quite boring, really; most all that they do is talk about their kits.” He shook his head wryly. “You sure you don’t want to join us instead?” He offered, patting the ground beside him with a paw.

Fireheart forced himself to shake his head. “Next time, I promise. If you ask me then, I’ll tell you about how I fought Clawface after only two moons as an apprentice, too.” There were gasps and murmurs of appreciation at his words, but he waved his tail for Peppermask to follow him as he fought his way through the throng of cats around them.

“The queens will likely be over this way.” The spotted tabby mewed softly to him, before nimbly taking the lead from him. He didn’t hesitate to follow her, grateful at her ability to find her way through a crowd that he seemed to lack. He glanced up at the Great Rock as he trailed behind, where the leaders and deputies were talking amongst themselves. He noticed with a jolt that Bluestar’s icy gaze was watching him as he threaded through the crowd.

Why was she watching them? He panicked for a moment before realizing that he was probably just eye-catching in the crowd. No fur was quite as bright and vibrant as his, especially under the full moon light. Then another realization caught up to him; if he was that easy to track, then Bluestar had likely seen him leave for Ravenpaw’s farm with Peppermask. After all, she had mentioned seeing him leave the Gathering as an apprentice, when he had been going to warn Yellowfang about the danger she was in from Brokentail’s threats.

Then she looked away from him, and he quickly shook himself out. If she knew that they had lied to her about where they were going last Gathering, surely she would have said something to him when they were alone? And, in any case, they had done nothing wrong. There was no reason to worry.

Still, that guilt nagged in the back of his mind as Peppermask led him over to a group of mollies, slightly separated from the rest of the Gathering. It was easy to spot Willowbranch sitting there, the only Thunderclanner among them, but it was the silver-furred molly from Riverclan with icy blue eyes that his sight was focused on.

“Peppermask! It’s good to see you in good health. And your friend, Fireheart.” Mistyskip gave him a courteous nod, which he responded to in kind. “You haven’t taken any more dips in the river in this past moon, have you?” 

His fur prickled uncomfortably as the mollies around him purred lightly. “I prefer to keep my paws in my own territory.” He finally mewed, trying to keep his voice light.

“As all good warriors should. Thunderclan is lucky to have both of you.” He took a deep breath to force himself to relax as Mistyskip continued on. She had just meant to have a little banter, but the memory of water flooding into his lungs still sent fear pulsing through his veins. It was clearly different for a Riverclan cat, who must be so used to the water. “Come, sit! Willowbranch was just mentioning something about a battle in the Twolegplace with some rogues.”

“Indeed. Fireheart himself was one of the combatants!” The silky silver Thunderclan tabby mewed, her green eyes warm yet awed at the sight of him. “You should tell us what happened. I’ve only heard what happened through sharing tongues with Cinderspark, and you know how excitable she can be…”

“Cinderspark? So she’s a warrior now! Congratulations, Willowbranch.” A tortoiseshell Shadowclan queen mewed earnestly. “I can’t wait for my own kits to grow up and become warriors. They’re still so young, but…”

“Actually.” Fireheart mewed, diverting attention back to himself. “Mistyskip, Peppermask and I were hoping to talk with you for a bit?” Alone, he added silently, hoping that she would get the drift without him having to say it out loud.

Her blue gaze glittered dangerously as she considered him for a moment. “Of course, I’d be happy to.” She turned back to the rest of the mollies. “I’ll catch up with you all later. Don’t be sharing all the juicy stuff while I’m away.”

“We most certainly will!” Another tortoiseshell mewed with a teasing grin as Mistyskip rolled her eyes and started leading them away from the Gathering. It didn’t take long at all until most of the hubbub died away and they were alone in a bushy area a little ways up the slope.

“I assume this must be important if it can’t be said in front of everyone else.” The older Riverclanner mewed as she turned to face the two young Thunderclan warriors. “So? I imagine that you sought me, specifically, for a reason.”

“We did.” Peppermask bowed her head respectfully as she sat down, and Fireheart did the same.  “Mistyskip, I understand this is a lot to ask, but we need to ask you some questions about your dad, and the day he died.”

“I- I see.” The silver molly deflated as her friend spoke. “I wasn’t there that day, but I can try to answer what questions you may have. You might have to ask my brother if you want to know more.”

“We’re looking for discretion in this matter.” Peppermask mewed beside him. “Your brother is a good cat, but we can’t risk it getting back to our Clan that we’re asking about these things.”

The Riverclanner’s eyes narrowed briefly as she spoke. “I see. If I may, what does my father have to do with Thunderclan problems? I trust that whatever you’re doing, it is within the warrior code, but I can’t say anything that would put my own Clan at risk.”

Fireheart held his breath, unsure exactly what to say, but Peppermask seemed to have expected the question and flicked her ear with an unbothered air. “There are certain rumors within the Clan about what happened that day. Cats claiming responsibility for things they did not do. We want to know the truth, unbiased as it can be, and we agree that requires a Riverclan perspective.”

Mistyskip regarded them closely for a moment before slowly nodding. “Alright. Ask away.” She mewed wearily, as though the mere thought of her father’s death had already drained her.

He glanced at his companion beside him. He had so many thoughts, he didn’t know which to ask first. It didn’t seem tactful to jump straight into Oakheart’s death, but if they surprised her with his words, she might clam up and refuse to talk. “Why was Oakheart’s patrol out there that day?” He finally asked.

The silver Riverclanner rolled her eyes, and for a moment he worried he had asked something he shouldn’t have. “They were being fishbrains. My dad and my brother loved pushing each other past the limits. They weren’t expecting a Thunderclan patrol to come by, even though we had just taken Sunningrocks that same moon, so of course Thunderclan would be guarding the forest fiercely. They got caught, and they paid for it.” She gave them a curious glance. “But surely you already knew that part?”

“That seemed to be the general consensus, yes.” Peppermask answered with a dip of her head. “But with the amount of lies, it was hard to be sure we were in the right that day.”

“The fighting started in the forest, I know that much. Your warriors were defending their territory.” Mistyskip nodded slowly. “Shadespeckle - then my brother’s apprentice - came racing back to camp with a nasty scratch above her eye. She still has it, actually. She told us what had happened. Some of the warriors wanted to go help, but my uncle said that he wasn’t going to waste warriors covering for his brother’s mistakes. That he would either get himself out of trouble, or be stuck in the healers’ den for his arrogance.” She sighed wistfully and looked out towards her territory. “If he had, perhaps things would have been different.”

Fireheart perked his ears curiously. “What do you mean?” He asked her eagerly.

“Dad realized he was in over his head and called for a retreat to Sunningrocks. I don’t think he expected your patrol to follow him. I think he also expected Crookedstar to send backup, and that made him fight more fiercely than he would have otherwise.” Her lips curled into a frown at the thought. “Maybe he wouldn’t have fought to his death.”

His heart lurched at her words. “So he was killed, then?”

She blinked in confusion at him. “Of course he was. I thought you knew he died?” She looked to Peppermask for answers.

“What he means to ask is, so he was killed by a Thunderclan cat?” Peppermask asked, brushing her tail against his reassuringly.

“Ah. Is that what some cats in your Clan are claiming?” Mistyskip nodded slowly. “Interesting. Killing is against the code, and I thought you Thunderclanners were more dedicated to that than to even your own Clan…” Her whiskers twitched in amusement as they both bristled. “But I can see how being the one to take down the great deputy of Riverclan would be quite the tale.”

“It’s against the code unless in self-defense.” Peppermask pointed out. “You can see how that doesn’t match up with what you’ve told me of your dad. That’s… part of why I’m suspicious.”

“Dad would never try to kill another cat.” The Riverclanner declared firmly, her nose twitching in disdain. “He was reckless, true, but he lived for the fight. There is no honor to be found in killing another cat, and it would’ve spoiled his victory. He preferred to beat cats fair and square.”

“So if he wasn’t killed, how did he die?” Fireheart asked as gently as he could.

The silver molly looked down at her paws, her blue eyes watering at the thought. “A rock slide crushed him.” She mewed softly, her voice trembling. “There was a loose pile of rocks, near the edge of Sunningrocks. Mudwish thinks he rolled into it while fighting, and chose to stand his ground instead of run away. Maybe he didn’t realize how far he’d gone… Maybe the blood rushing through his ears hid the sounds of it collapsing. It doesn’t really matter. The end result is the same.”

Peppermask gasped beside him, and they both leaned in closer. “And he’s absolutely sure? There were no killing blows on him?” He asked, his heart racing. If it was true, then they had the proof they needed - that Oakheart, at the very least, had not died to Tigerclaw’s paws.

She shook her head. “He was wounded, yes, but nothing that would have kept him from running away. Nothing that couldn’t have been treated with a few nights in the healers’ den.” She looked back up to them with a mournful sigh. “Mudwish said it was painless, at least; that he would have died instantly. He didn’t suffer, and he died in battle. I don’t think he would have wanted to go any other way.”

The spotted tabby beside him nodded, and he could tell from the look on her face she was thinking of her own father. He could have lived so much longer, if not for Tigerclaw. “Thank you, Mistyskip. That’s what we needed to hear.” She mewed to the other molly. “And the rest of your Clan, do you think they’d say the same?”

“Without a doubt. We have no reason to hide his death. It was too early, yes, but it wasn’t shameful.” She glanced out towards the Great Rock, which was mostly obscured from their view. “I’m sure even my uncle would say that in front of all the Clans, if need be.”

“There’s one more thing we need to ask.” Fireheart spoke quickly, all too aware that the leaders would call them together soon. “One of the cats who was there - the most trustworthy one - he said your father said something very odd before he died. He said that Redtail attacked your brother, and then Oakheart pulled him off and said ‘You of all cats know better than to attack him.’ Do you have any idea what that meant?”

The Riverclan molly looked baffled. “Are you sure he said that?” She replied, her bewilderment leaking into her voice.

“If not those exact words, then something close to it.” Peppermask replied, her tail flicking nervously. “So you have no idea why he tried to protect Stonestep, then?”

“No!” Mistyskip protested before she had even managed to finish her question. “Dad never protected any of us. He said that the most important teacher in life is natural consequences - and he knew Stonestep, especially, never backed down from a fight.” She stared off into the distance, her brows furrowed, as she searched her memory for some explanation. “Unless he wanted some deputy on deputy fight, but even then, what a strange thing for him to say. I watched them fight once, when I was a young warrior; they loved to taunt each other, but nothing as strange as that.”

“Then why would he say something like that?” Fireheart pressed, as confused as she was by it all. “You don’t suppose he had some vendetta against Redtail - or that Redtail had somehow harmed Stonestep in the past?”

“No, I don’t think so. And I don’t know why he said that, either.” Mistyskip was still frowning as she stared off into the distance. “But I think I know who might.”

She looked back to the two Thunderclanners as they perked their ears eagerly. “My mother, Graypool - she was probably the closest cat to Dad, besides my uncle. I think sometimes, she knew his mind better than he did. If there were any cat that knew what he meant by that, it would be her.”

“Is she here?” Peppermask pressed quickly, glancing back towards the rest of the Gathering.

“No, she-”

“Cats of all Clans!” Fireheart didn’t recognize the voice immediately, but he knew well enough that it was one of the leaders. He looked back to Mistyskip, and he could see the urgency he felt echoed in her eyes.

“I’ll convince her to come to the next Gathering. My uncle would never say no to her if she wanted to come. We’ll see you then.” With that, she sprang back towards the Great Rock, where a crowd was already forming. With a knowing glance at Fireheart, Peppermask did the same.

He was about to follow when he spotted Silverstream and Graystripe sitting next to each other. His lip instinctively curled at the sight, and he stalked over to sit close to them. They were barely hiding their affection for each other as they pressed into each other - purely for warmth, of course.

“Even as leafbare has arrived, Windclan continues to thrive in the moors.” Tallstar was the first to step forward, his golden gaze gleaming as he looked down on the assembled cats. “Just this moon, Ashfoot and Deadfoot have welcomed a new litter of four kits into the nursery.”

Fireheart’s eyes flickered to the dark deputy, who sat tall and proud beneath his leader. “We are also proud to announce four new warriors; Webpounce, Quickbreeze, Robincloud, and Whitetail. They have served the Clan faithfully as apprentices, and I am certain that Starclan will light their paths for many moons to come.”

All eyes turned to see the four new warriors, their fur fluffed and chests puffed as they basked in the gaze of the other Clans. His eyes were drawn to Whitetail, recalling his past meetings with her. She looked far more confident in herself than she had when he had first scared her, amongst the tangle of sky-walking Thunderpaths.

“That is good to hear, Tallstar.” Crookedstar mewed, standing as the black and white Windclan tom stepped back. “Riverclan has also welcomed a new litter in the nursery. Three kits, each happy and healthy thanks to the tireless work of our healers.” The crowd murmured the usual congratulations at this, with the two Riverclan healers sitting up a little straighter at the praise.

“We also have four new apprentices - Brushpaw, mentored by Beetlenose; Copperpaw, mentored by Whiteflame; Skip-paw, mentored by Morningwhisper; and Swallowpaw, mentored by Sedgecreek.” The crowd searched for the four mentors, finally finding them sitting beside a few very nervous young apprentices. One was a big black tom with a graying muzzle, while the rest were tabbies of various stripes.

“We thank Starclan that they have not yet frozen the river this leafbare. May they see fit to continue to give us a mild one.” With that, the disfigured tabby stepped back with a pleased nod to the other leaders.

“A mild leafbare is good for us all.” Nightstar mewed, the next to step forward. “Prey continues to run in Shadowclan territory as well. And we also have four new apprentices at the Gathering tonight. Rowanpaw, apprenticed to Redfern; Oakpaw, apprenticed to Wolfstep; Cedarpaw, my own apprentice; and Lavenderpaw, apprenticed to Newtspeck.”

Congratulatory murmurs spread through the crowd once more. It didn’t take long to find the other set of young apprentices, several mentors protectively hovering nearby. The one that drew Fireheart’s attention the most was a dark ginger molly, her fur shining like a Riverclan cat’s but a far more striking color like his. He wondered briefly if she had once been a kittypet, before quickly shaking the thought from his mind. With how Thunderclan had reacted to him at first, he doubted that any other Clan would be willing to take in such an outsider.

“It is good to hear Shadowclan is finding plenty of prey in their own territory. I am sure that means Thunderclan won’t be scenting any hunting patrols across our borders in the next moons.” There were growls from the Shadowclan cats as Bluestar stepped forward, but Fireheart and many other cats purred in amusement at her words. It was no secret that Shadowclan often found prey across their borders, though Brokentail had taken that to an extreme. 

“Though prey runs swiftly in our territory, I am pleased to say that thanks to some of our newer warriors, we have had no trouble finding freshkill. Thunderclan’s future shines brightly, and I thank Starclan for granting us such capable warriors.” Fireheart glowed with pride at her words. “We bring with us one of those new warriors today; Cinderspark, who has proven herself in the eyes of Starclan.”

Fireheart could see Cinderspark puffed up to nearly the size of Lionheart or Whitestorm with her fluff as all eyes turned to her. Part of him wondered if she was going to explode from the excitement, but thankfully Bluestar spoke before she could. “I pray that Starclan sees fit to give us another moon of mild leafbare. Until then, may Starclan light our paths.”

“May Starclan light our paths.” The crowd echoed, immediately beginning to disperse at Bluestar’s cue. The leaders jumped down from the Great Rock to lead their patrols, their deputies and healers quickly following. The hollow soon filled with the sound of chatter as cats said their goodbyes to the other Clans, preparing for another moon of tension.

“Mild leafbare my tail. Mark my words, the snow will pile a tail-length high this moon!” Fireheart blinked as a tabby elder nearly bumped into him as he passed, heading for Shadowclan’s side of Fourtrees as he talked to Patchpelt and another Shadowclan elder. “Why, we might even have to dig our way out of camp!”

He snorted in amusement at the thought, turning to comment to Peppermask before remembering why he was sitting alone. He searched the main hollow, finally spotting the two a few tail-lengths away and nearly obscured by the tall grass. He wandered over, careful to appear as though he was just moving among the crowd even as he angled his ears towards them to hear their conversation.

“... won’t be going past the bend until after sunhigh. We can meet under the Twoleg bridge.” Silverstream was mewing to Graystripe as she briefly twined her tail with his. “You’re not on a dawn patrol, are you?”

“Tigerclaw put me on the Shadowclan patrol.” The Thunderclan tom replied glumly, before brightening up. “But that means I can meet you right after! It’ll probably be right after the sun reaches halfway to sunhigh.”

“Not even a robin chirp. Between the cold and the snow, all the prey’s hiding, and not even Riverclan seems to want to patrol their borders. Can’t say I blame them.” Fireheart puffed out his fur, trying to keep as warm as he could. Camp was a little warmer, with the leaf covering keeping in more heat, but it was still a chilly leafbare. “I mean, what are we going to do? Go hunting on the ice?”

The tabby molly giggled at the thought. “Dustleap tried it last leafbare, back when he was an apprentice. Dad was so mad at him!” The thought of Quickflash made her pause for a moment, before she quickly shook the sorrow away. “I guess he fell through the ice, and Bluestar had to fish him out. He was in Spottedleaf’s den for a moon with the worst cough.”

“I’ll bet. Yellowfang said we were lucky to avoid getting sick from our dip in the river.” Fireheart mewed, flicking his ear at the memory. It had already been so cold during his dip in late leaffall - he couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like when the water was iced over. 

There was rustling from the leader’s den, and every cat in camp watched as Bluestar strode out, Tigerclaw right on her tail. The Thunderclan leader quickly bounded up to the top of the Highrock, where the last rays of the setting sun made her fur sparkle and dazzle. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!” She called, even as cats were already crowding below her to see who would get to go to the Gathering.

She gazed proudly down upon her warriors for several heartbeats, her eyes flickering over each of them. “Even despite the snow and cold, Thunderclan survives thanks to each of your efforts. I could not be prouder of each of you.” Her words cut through the chill, and several warriors murmured excitedly to each other. “Alas, I cannot bring every warrior to the Gathering. But know that even those that remain behind tonight serve a valuable role in protecting the Clan from predators seeking an easy meal this frigid leafbare.”

Fireheart nodded along, even as his paws kneaded anxiously. He knew he was last on the list to go, given his fight with Graystripe earlier that moon, but tonight was more important than she knew. He and Peppermask would finally get to the bottom of what happened at Sunningrocks seasons ago - if he was allowed to go, of course. “Along with Tigerclaw, Yellowfang, Dewpaw, and any elders and queens that wish to make the journey, I will be bringing with me Dappleshine, Darkstripe, Longtail, Dustleap, Sandstorm, Peppermask, and Fireheart.” 

His tail lashed excitedly as he heard his name called. Bluestar had recognized his efforts after all! He glanced smugly out at the crowd, his eyes quickly finding Graystripe. The large gray tom looked dismayed at the leader’s decision. Fireheart grimaced as he realized the only reason his former friend had been wanting to go was to see Silverstream again. Even now he kept his head in the sand, not realizing how close they were to avenging his father’s death.

“Graystripe and Mousefur will keep watch tonight. Whitestorm is in charge of camp while I am gone.” Bluestar continued, and Fireheart turned his attention back to her. “We leave at once. Clan dismissed.”

Those chosen to leave gathered around Bluestar and Tigerclaw as they crossed camp to the bramble tunnel, while those staying behind departed to different parts of camp - mostly the warriors’ den so they could keep warm. He noticed Graystripe crossing camp towards the foxhole prison with one last bitter look at the leaving patrol, but avoided meeting the other tom’s gaze. 

The Gathering patrol left silently, not wasting their breath on talking as they began to traverse towards Fourtrees. His heart and mind were racing as they traversed the forest. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this Gathering, or what Graypool would say to them. Elders were a crabby and guarded group - even with Mistyskip’s urging, he wasn’t sure it would be enough to find out what they needed. 

Still, he kept such thoughts to himself. Even if Peppermask was thinking the same, it felt as though it would be a bad omen to voice them out loud. Instead, he kept his gaze concentrated on the path ahead. It wasn’t long until the tree bridge crossing came into view, covered in untrodden snow.

“What do you think, Bluestar? Is it safe to cross?” Longtail asked, his paws kneading nervously in the snow as he stared at it. 

The silver queen considered the log for a moment, before nimbly leaping on top of it. Fireheart held his breath, shocked to see the leader do such a dangerous feat, but she steadily crossed without issue. “The days have been cold enough to prevent the snow from melting into ice.” She called to the patrol on the other side. “The snow will hold for the night.”

One by one, each cat crossed the cold snowy bridge. Some cats struggled more than others, but it wasn’t long before it was Fireheart’s turn to cross. He threaded his way through the twisted, snow-covered roots to stand on the fallen tree, which by now was covered in pawprints from those that had crossed before him.

For a moment, he marveled at the beauty of the path in front of him. Even though each cat had a different stride, their pawsteps unique from their comrades, they all went the same direction. It felt as if it were a silent reminder that even though each cat walked their own path, they were all part of the same Clan, looking for the same things in life. And yet the pawprints would only last as long as the snow did; a transient, fleeting reminder, just like life itself so often seemed to be.

“Quit dallying!” Tigerclaw’s snarl forced him out of his thoughts, and he quickly began to cross. Bluestar had been right; the snow crunched under his paws, giving more support to his steps than the slick barkless wood would normally allow. It made the crossing easier than normal, a welcome change to how the snow normally impeded progress through the forest.

Peppermask followed quickly behind him, with Tigerclaw bringing up the rear. The massive deputy crashed down into the snow beside him, sending it flying everywhere - including into his fur. As he shook it off in disgust, the tabby ignored him and trotted over to where their leader was waiting. “That’s everyone.” He purred smugly, ignoring the young warrior sputtering behind him.

He glared after the tom’s flicking white tail tip, but followed him up the hill nonetheless. As the patrol fanned out along the bushes at the top of the hill, Fireheart took stock of the cats in the hollow below them. He could see the giant tabby frame of Crookedstar next to the sleek black and white coat of Tallstar. It seemed as though Nightstar and Shadowclan had yet to arrive.

He searched the Gathering for Mistyskip, wondering if she had remembered the arrangement they had made last moon. Then he spotted her silver pelt glittering in the moonlight, next to a group of Riverclan and Windclan elders near the Great Rock. One of them had to be Graypool, though it was hard to figure out who from where he was crouching. He glanced at Peppermask beside him, angling his ears towards the group. She caught his eye and nodded quickly before looking back down at the Gathering, apparently lost in her own thoughts.

He didn’t get the chance to speak as Bluestar stood up quickly and led them down into the hollow, her warriors racing down the slope behind her. Several cats looked up to see them coming, but the crowd didn’t bother to part for them as they arrived. The Thunderclan patrol quickly dispersed to greet old friends, leaving Peppermask and Fireheart alone as they began threading their way through the throng towards where Mistyskip was doubtlessly waiting.

The crowd thinned towards the base of the rock, as many cats preferred to mingle amongst the roots of the Great Oaks. Only elders preferred to gather at the base, where they were close enough to hear the leaders’ words without straining. Fireheart nodded politely to Halftail and Patchpelt as he passed them talking to a black-furred Windclan elder and tabby Riverclan tom, but kept his eyes focused on where Mistyskip was huddled with another group of elders.

Rosetail had beaten them to the group, where she was exchanging pleasantries with a queen from Windclan he recognized as Larksplash. However, his eyes were on Mistyskip and a gray elder sitting beside her. As they approached, the silver warrior’s blue gaze caught sight of them. She leaned down to the queen laying in the grass beside her. “Mother, you should stretch your legs before Shadowclan gets here.” He heard the younger molly mew softly. “You know Mosspatch warned you that sitting too long in the cold will make your joints lock up.”

“Bah!” The elder spat, even as she sat up. “Your sibling worries too much. I’ve survived leafbares since before you were even a twinkle in your father’s eye, and I know my body better than anyone. If I say I’m fine, then I’m fine.”

Mistyskip sighed and shook her head. “Just one lap around the hollow, Mom? For me?” She pleaded softly with the cranky gray queen.

Her mother snorted dismissively and turned to Larksplash beside her. “Kits are always so demanding, aren’t they? Thinking they know what’s best.”

The old tortoiseshell purred warmly at her Riverclan friend, whiskers twitching in amusement. “It doesn’t hurt to humor her, Graypool. Go on: I’ll keep your spot warm for you.”

The two elders touched noses briefly as the Riverclan queen stood, stretching each of her legs out with several audible cracks. “Alright, alright. But only one lap! I’m not full of boundless energy like you.” She growled, beginning to saunter towards the empty northern edge of the hollow.

Fireheart and Peppermask slowly followed, waiting for Mistyskip to signal for them to approach. It felt like an eternity waiting as they walked together behind her, but when the chatter of the hollow had at last died away to a dull roar she flicked her tail for them to join the two Riverclanners.

“Graypool?” The ginger Thunderclanner mewed softly as the two approached, trying to keep his tone light. “May we speak to you?”

The gray elder grunted and craned her head to see the two warriors padding towards her. Her green gaze was narrow as she inspected them. “What do you want?” The queen snarled, drawing her lips back to show her yellowed fangs. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

He hesitated, taken aback by the elder’s aggression, but Mistyskip smoothly stepped between them. “These Thunderclanners are the ones I was telling you about, Mom. They have a few questions they want to ask you about- about Dad.”

Graypool’s eyes only narrowed further as she glared at her daughter, before tossing her head impatiently and sitting down. “Fine. But only a few! It’s too cold to be chattering like starlings all night.” She huffed angrily, keeping her eyes on the two Thunderclan warriors as they took a seat in front of her. Her daughter sat beside her, pressing into the elder to keep her warm.

“Of course. This won’t take long at all.” Peppermask mewed smoothly, keeping her ears perked forward warmly. “You knew Oakheart well, didn’t you?”

The elder glared at her with a look of pure disdain, her lip curled and eyes still narrow. “Did I know him well? I only raised his kits for him for fifteen seasons, gave his little minnowbrain advice he could manage, and kept him from getting into trouble at every opportunity. I suppose I didn’t really know him that well, no.”

Fireheart shifted uncomfortably beside his companion, suddenly wondering if they had been mistaken to believe they would get anything out of the queen. It was clear that while Mistyskip was willing to be friendly, she hadn’t gotten that from her mother. Still, Peppermask didn’t seem bothered by the hostility. “I understand. Can you ever really know a tomcat’s mind?” She purred, whiskers twitching at her own joke. “But you still might be able to help us. Before he died, one of our warriors reported that Oakheart said something strange to Redtail, our deputy.”

“I know who Redtail was. I’m not senile.” Graypool interrupted, her lips curling at the perceived slight. Still, her green eyes were sharper than ever as she observed the young Thunderclan warriors in front of her. “Well? Out with it, then!”

“Redtail attacked Stonestep, but Oakheart dragged him off.” Peppermask’s tail was flicking uncomfortably now, and he could tell she was struggling to maintain a positive front for the cantankerous queen. “When he did, he said to Redtail, ‘You of all cats know better than to attack him’, or something close to it. Do you know why he might have said that?”

The gray molly swiftly drew herself up, her ears flat as she glared at the two of them. Fireheart’s heart pounded in his chest. Had Peppermask said something wrong? He forced himself to meet her piercing emerald eyes, suddenly feeling like he had when he had first met Bluestar as a kittypet. What was she looking for out of them? Was this a test?

“Why do two Thunderclan warriors care so much about what Oakheart said?” Graypool asked them at last, her gaze flicking between the two of them. Fireheart glanced at the tabby molly beside him, unsure what to say. He felt like she would know if he was lying, but could he really tell her about Redtail’s murder?

“The battle with Riverclan wasn’t the only thing that happened at Sunningrocks.” Peppermask answered at last, choosing her words carefully. “There is a mystery in Thunderclan, one that we must solve for the future of our Clan. We believe Oakheart’s words hold the answer we need.”

The Riverclan queen hummed thoughtfully for a moment, pondering her words, before swinging her head towards Fireheart. “And you?” She questioned. “Why does a kittypet care what Oakheart said?”

That familiar anger at her taunting words rose up within him for a moment. He was sick of being judged for his origins, and part of him longed to take that out on her. Still, he swallowed it down, forcing himself not to anger their only way of discovering the truth. “Thunderclan is in danger.” He mewed slowly, tempering each word with careful thought. “I may have been born a kittypet, but the forest is my home. If we cannot learn the truth - the full truth, with no embellishments or lies - then I will lose the only place I have truly felt I belong. I cannot let that happen.”

She nodded slowly at his answer, and for a moment he thought he saw a spark of respect in her eyes. She turned her gaze to her daughter beside her. “And you? Do you trust these two Thunderclanners?”

Mistyskip tilted her head curiously at the silver queen’s words, but nodded slowly. “Peppermask might be Thunderclan, but she reminds me of myself when I was a young warrior. She’s certainly not badgerbrained like most of them.” Fireheart bristled slightly at the barbed compliment, but forced his fur to flatten as she turned her icy blue gaze towards him. “As for Fireheart, I know he seeks to do good for his Clan and his friends. He is not loyal to the Code, but to what’s right, like any good warrior should be.”

He blinked, taken aback by her description of him. Had she really gotten all that from him in the brief times they’d met? Still, he didn’t get the chance to ask as the Riverclan warrior turned to her mother once more. “And don’t forget, Bluestar asked both of these warriors to bring Windclan home. Tallstar himself praised them. I don’t believe they would ask us to endanger our Clan at the expense of their own.”

The elder grunted in acknowledgement as she scrutinized both of them for a moment longer. “Fine. Yes, I believe I know what Oakheart meant. You might even be right that the answer you seek is what you need to solve your little Thunderclan mystery.”

They all perked their ears at her words. “Really? Then what did he mean?” Fireheart asked eagerly. 

Graypool grimaced and shook her head. “Not here. There’s too many ears that might overhear.” He blinked, glancing around, but their part of the hollow was empty. No one was paying attention to them. “At sunrise, I’ll be at Sunningrocks. It’ll be too cold for the rest of the Clan to be out there until the sun’s had a chance to heat the stones. If you really want to know, then you’ll meet me there.”

“Sunrise?” He echoed, heart twisting at the thought. 

Peppermask glanced at him. “Is something wrong?” She asked him softly.

“I volunteered to go on the Riverclan dawn patrol. I won’t be able to be there.” He thought back to when the patrols had been assigned. “Not unless I can get Tinyfrost to cover for me again. He wasn’t assigned to either patrol.”

“I’m certain he’ll cover for you if he knows why. He wants justice as much as we do.” She turned back and gave a polite nod to the Riverclan elder. “We’ll meet you at Sunningrocks at sunrise.”

“Good.” The elder growled, rising to her paws and stretching again. “Now then, if that’s all, I have some old friends to talk to.”

Neither Thunderclanner protested as she began walking away, her daughter flanking her with a quick wave goodbye to the two other warriors. “That was interesting.” Fireheart mewed to his companion. “I wonder why she wouldn’t say it here?”

“I don’t know. It’s definitely strange.” She replied thoughtfully, her brow furrowed as she pondered it. “But if she doesn’t want anyone overhearing it, it must be important, and it could be the proof that we need to bring to Bluestar. I don’t think we have much of a choice if we want to convince her.”

“Right.” He sighed, disappointed that the answers had been so close, yet so far. “We should get back. The leaders will probably be calling us together soon.”

Peppermask didn’t protest, the two walking back together in tandem. In the time they’d been talking with Graypool, it seemed that Shadowclan had arrived; even in the frigid air, the thick marshy scent hit his nose as soon as he approached the growing crowd. Graypool was now talking to Poolcloud and a ginger elder he didn’t recognize: he gave them a polite nod as he passed, one that only Poolcloud returned.

As the two Thunderclanners rejoined the crowd, Fireheart found he couldn’t focus his mind on the conversations happening around him. What secret did Graypool know that she couldn’t risk being overheard by others, and how could it possibly be the answer to what had happened at Sunningrocks? Nothing that he thought of made sense, especially given that not even Mistyskip had seemed to know the answer. Elders were wise, thanks to the many seasons they had endured, but it was hard to imagine a scenario in which she would know what even her own kit didn’t.

“Cats of all Clans!” Fireheart forced himself to put it out of his mind, looking up to see Crookedstar standing on the rock. The large tabby tom’s tail was twitching, and his eyes were narrow as he glared down on the hollow beneath him. Fireheart was grateful his fur was already puffed; it was easier to hide the shiver that the angry leader sent down his spine. “It is time to begin. There is much to answer for tonight.”

The ginger warrior glanced uneasily at Peppermask next to him. What could Crookedstar be referring to? Even as he took a seat, he could see that all of the other leaders looked irritated. Had the leaders been arguing up on the Great Rock? But why? Aside from the lack of prey that accompanied leafbare, there was no reason for any arguments.

As he glanced around, he could see that the Riverclan warriors were tense, several flexing claws as they glared up at the Great Rock. He didn’t get the chance to wonder why before their leader began speaking. “Leafbare is the most difficult season for all the Clans. Prey hides in burrows, birds fly away for warmer skies, and even Riverclan must occasionally go without the bounty of the river while it is frozen over.” Disgruntled murmurs spread throughout the crowd. “It is truly a harsh season. But that does not grant any Clan the right to go seeking prey over their own borders!”

His words were met with yowls of agreement, mostly from Riverclan, but every Clan cat could agree with the sentiment. “Speak plainly, Crookedstar.” Bluestar spoke, her eyes narrow slits as she watched the tabby. “Surely you’re not accusing every Clan here of stealing your prey. We may have trouble finding prey within our borders, but that doesn’t mean-”

“Don’t play coy, Bluestar!” Crookedstar turned on her with a furious lash of his tail. “Every warrior in my Clan has seen the pawprints flagrantly crossing our borders! Your warriors traipse around in our territory, doing as they please!”

Fireheart’s breath caught in his throat at the accusation, and even Bluestar looked caught off-guard. “My warriors?” She growled, quickly regaining her composure. “I could say the same of yours! Our border patrols are constantly reporting back about Riverclan trespassing. Don’t you dare try to deflect suspicion from your actions by accusing my warriors of wrongdoing!”

The tabby’s brown ears pinned back against his head. “Don’t be so transparent, Bluestar. My warriors respect border markers, unlike yours! Do you really expect me to believe that all of Riverclan have treated themselves to your territory?”

Bluestar’s tail tip was twitching furiously as she glared at the enemy leader. “That is not what I said, and you and I both know it. If all of your warriors trespassed, that would be too easy to catch, wouldn’t it? So you only send the same cat, over and over, as though perhaps we’ll miss her scent in the leafbare cold.” She shook her head angrily. “Rest assured, Crookedstar, my warriors will not cross even a claw-length over the border, and we will catch the molly you’ve been sending if she doesn’t stop!”

A Riverclan molly was trespassing? Everything suddenly clarified for Fireheart, and he immediately began scanning the crowd. It wasn’t long until he spotted the swirling stripes of the warrior he was looking for - Silverstream, who was staring in horror up at her father. He knew she would only lead to trouble for Thunderclan! If only Graystripe were here to realize the damage his actions were causing, but he knew his former friend would stubbornly refuse to see the problem.

“And you expect me to believe that the eaten prey we’ve found covered in Thunderclan scent was pure coincidence?” Crookedstar growled, his claws glinting in the moonlight. “Do you truly take me for such a fool, Bluestar?”

He felt his lip curl angrily at the thought. Not only had Graystripe been running around with Silverstream, but he had also been sharing prey with her instead of going hungry in punishment! Fireheart’s stomach rumbled indignantly at the thought. Had the gray tom no respect for Bluestar or Thunderclan anymore?

Bluestar’s own fangs were bared as she looked furiously down on the crowd below. “I would never dare order my warriors to hunt across borders when all the Clans are suffering. If we need more territory, we must fight for it; that is the way of the warrior code.” Her blue eyes were glittering with fury as she searched the crowd, picking out each of the warriors she had brought. “Nor would I ever allow my warriors to eat when there is a chance our elders, queens, and kits could go hungry! I promise you now, Crookedstar, beneath Starclan’s sparkling skies; if you catch any of my warriors eating prey on your territory, you need only tell me their name. I will make sure that it never happens again.”

Fireheart shivered beneath her icy gaze. He could only imagine the fury with which she would handle such an offense. His punishment had been grueling, and she had gone comparatively light on him; he didn’t dare imagine what she would do to a cat that had broken the code and brought tension between the two Clans. Exile didn’t seem so unreasonable in those circumstances.

The disfigured leader’s eyes were narrow as he glared at the other leader, scrutinizing her intentions. Finally he gave a curt nod. “I will do exactly that, Bluestar. You best remember that promise; it won’t be long before my warriors catch those thieves in the act.” 

“Speaking of thieves.” Tallstar stepped forward, no longer content to keep quiet. He swung his angled head towards Nightstar. “I thought Shadowclan had promised to keep their filthy paws off Windclan territory, yet my warriors have found trail after trail leading into our heartland! Tell me, Nightstar; do you think Windclan was weakened by your predecessor’s actions? Do you think that you can drive us from our territory yet again?” He was bushed out, his skinny frame hidden within his black and white fur. “Because I assure you, Windclan would sooner die than be chased out by the likes of you!”

The black tom hissed furiously as he rose to his paws. “Shadowclan has no need for your windswept moors, Tallstar! Nor have we taken any of your boney rabbits. My Clan has found other sources of prey-”

“Yes, like Riverclan fish!” Crookedstar interjected, coming to stand beside the Windclan leader. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice the broken ice beneath the bridge? I suppose the northern winds must have chilled your paws enough that icy water is little match for your warriors.” 

Now all the leaders had their claws extended, except for Bluestar sitting off to the side. “Really, Crookedstar? As though accusing Thunderclan wasn’t enough!” Nightstar cast a glance towards the silver queen, as though daring her to leap back into the argument. “It sounds to me as if you aren’t patrolling your borders, if even Thunderclan is so easily stealing prey from your territory. Perhaps you should focus on that instead of accusing innocent Clans of wrongdoing.”

“Why, you!” Crookedstar’s muscles rippled as he crouched down, his tail lashing furiously. Before he could leap at the other leader, however, Bluestar stepped between them.

“A sign from Starclan!” She called, and all cats directed their attention to the skies above. Sure enough, clouds were beginning to drift over the moon, darkening the land below. “Starclan has spoken; there is no more to be said at this Gathering.”

The tabby tom’s eyes flickered between the two, and for a moment Fireheart thought he would leap at Nightstar anyways. Then with a growl he turned and bounded off the rock, waving his tail for his Clan to follow him. The other leaders did the same, not pausing to say farewells to each other. 

“That went well.” Peppermask hissed beside Fireheart, but he wasn’t paying attention to her. He stood up and threaded his way through the crowd, his eyes focused on his target - Silverstream, who was still staring up at the Great Rock with wide blue eyes.

“Silverstream.” He growled as he approached, catching her attention. He didn’t bother to hide his irritation with her, his lips curled as he approached. “What happened to not letting your love harm anything? Our Clans are at the brink of war thanks to you two!”

She winced a bit at his voice and glanced around to see if anyone was listening. Most were too focused on getting back to their own nests, except for Peppermask, who had followed him. “I had no idea my father was going to do that! He hasn’t mentioned anything to me!” She replied, her paws kneading the ground in worry.

“Why would he? You’ve been a warrior for a few seasons at best!” Fireheart snapped. Admittedly, he hadn’t known that Bluestar had been aware of any Riverclan trespassing, but it certainly made sense. Even he had caught scent of Silverstream a few times on patrol, now that he knew what to look for, but he’d pretended not to for Graystripe’s sake. “If you two keep crossing the border, you’re going to get caught! Why can’t you stop?”

“I-” Silverstream hesitated and looked away with a frown. Finally, she sighed and looked back up to the two Thunderclanners. “I get it, okay? I don’t want war with Thunderclan any more than you two do - and I certainly don’t want to be the cause.” She mewed as she glanced at the Great Rock. “From now on, I’ll only meet Graystripe here, on neutral ground. That way our Clans can’t accuse each other of trespassing. Alright?”

Peppermask growled lowly beside him. “Why can’t you just leave my brother alone? We have enough problems already without you adding to them!” She spat, her claws digging in and out of the snowy grass below her.

Silverstream looked pained by the aggression. “Because I love him.” She replied simply. “And he loves me. We were destined to be mates - even Starclan agrees!”

As badly as Fireheart wanted to retort, he just nudged Peppermask and flicked an ear towards where the Thunderclan patrol was gathering. “Come on. We don’t want Tigerclaw to get suspicious.”

“... Fine.” Peppermask growled, stalking away. Fireheart followed her slowly, taking one last glance at the Riverclan molly as she trotted away to her own Clan. At least they had gotten some concession out of her. Even though they would eventually get caught, at least they wouldn’t threaten to bring the Clans to the brink of war any more. Surely that was better than nothing?

His movements were spastic now, growing weaker. He had already traveled so far without rest. Now his muscles felt as though they had been turned to stone. Every movement felt as though he were wading through thick, heavy mud. It was so much easier to relax. The darkness felt so inviting. Maybe-

Something grabbed his scruff, yanking him hard and pulling him out of the waiting abyss. He was hanging against the current now, and he struggled to pull himself back to consciousness as he felt himself being pulled along. What was going on? What had a hold on him? He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t hear what was going on. 

Suddenly there was ground beneath him, and then a moment later he broke the surface. He opened his eyes and mouth wide, trying to suck in air, but he choked on water instead. It spouted from him in bursts as he coughed, trying to get the liquid out of his lungs.

A moment later something shoved down on his side, hard. He couldn’t resist as he vomited up water, coughing more before another shove came. As he breathed in once more, he found himself sucking down air at last. 

His vision slowly came to him as he kept coughing. He was on the shore of the river; he could see the log they had fallen from in the distance, now on a different side as it sat there. There was Graystripe, too, hacking and wheezing like he was, but beside him was a silver tabby molly. Peppermask had rescued them? No, he realized; this one had thick, swirling stripes and long fur.

He sat up, his lungs still heaving as he looked around. Standing next to him was Bluestar, and Peppermask. They were both looking down on him with twin disapproving blue and green gazes.

“Bluestar…?” He managed to wheeze between gasps. “How…?”

The dripping silver molly looked taken aback for a moment. “Bluestar?” She echoed the name in confusion, and as his vision came more into focus he realized he was wrong; this warrior didn’t have a scarred shoulder like the leader. Which meant-

“This is Mistyskip, Fireheart.” Peppermask interrupted his thoughts. “Are you alright? Did you hit your head?”

He shook his head with another cough. “No, I… Thank you.” He managed to mew, glancing over to Graystripe. The other tom was still on his side, but he could see from his heavy breathing that the dark gray warrior was still alive. After a moment, his yellow eyes finally opened.

“You fleabrain!” The silver tabby standing over him spat as soon as she saw this. “What are you doing on our territory?”

The gray tom was silent for a moment. “Drowning?” He finally managed to wheeze in reply. 

Though the silver tabby’s tail lashed, he could see a small smirk on her face at his words. “Can’t you drown yourself in your own territory?” She growled as she sat down.

Graystripe’s whiskers twitched. “Ah, but who would rescue me there?” He asked, his eyes sparkling as he gazed up at the young molly.

He turned his attention back to the two mollies next to him, reassured that his friend was alright. “Thank you, Mistyskip.” He murmured, swallowing hard. His throat felt as though it had been coated in thorns. “For saving me, and for helping us with Leopardflame the other day.”

She flicked an ear at his words and sat down, beginning to groom her paw. “Well, I was hardly going to let Peppermask’s friends drown.” She gave a small smile to the young molly beside her. “And anyways, Leopardflame had no reason to deny you passage. She thinks that just because my uncle…” She paused, frowning down at her silver paw. “Well, never mind that. Are you well enough to travel?”

Fireheart’s ears perked at her hesitation. What had she been about to say? Still, he was hardly going to press the cat that had rescued him. “I think so, yes.” He mumbled, just as another gust of wind swept past. It pierced his soaked fur, and he shivered despite himself.

“You should see Yellowfang as soon as you get back to camp.” The Riverclan molly mewed, standing up and stretching out. Her fur was glossy and smooth; it seemed as though the swim had hardly affected her at all. “You don’t want to catch a cough and spread it around camp.”

The soaked tom nodded as he stood as well, water still dripping from him. “Thank you again, Mistyskip.” He murmured as he turned to Graystripe. “What about you? Do you think you can manage to make it back to camp?” He asked the other warrior hesitantly.

Graystripe said something to the other molly that he didn’t catch before looking back to his friend. “No thanks to you.” He growled with narrow eyes, though the smirk he gave Fireheart told him that the gray warrior didn’t mean it. “But I think I can manage.” He stood up and shook himself vigorously, sending water droplets flying everywhere.

“Hey, watch it!” Peppermask spat crossly as she backed away, her nose wrinkling in disgust as her whiskers caught a couple drops. “Not all of us fell in like you did!”

“Sorry.” Graystripe replied, though he didn’t sound very apologetic at all. “Thanks again, Silverstream.” He mewed to the pretty molly beside him as he padded towards Fireheart and Peppermask. “See you at the next Gathering, maybe?”

“If you can stay out of trouble until then!” She purred in reply, standing up and flicking her tail for Mistyskip to join her. “C’mon. We should get back before Dad starts worrying.”

The silver warrior waved farewell to the trio as they ascended the bank into the comfortable, familiar forest ahead. “I hope you two are proud of yourselves.” Peppermask grumbled to the two of them as they began padding through the forest. “Being caught by the leader’s daughter and niece; I can’t imagine what Bluestar will think about that!”

“That was Crookedstar’s daughter?” Fireheart gasped, craning his neck to see if she was still in view. “She doesn’t look that much like him.”

“She takes more after her mother, apparently.” Peppermask responded, her tail still lashing back and forth. “I’m sure he’ll lord it over us at the next Gathering that his warriors had to fish us out!” 

“Hey, relax, will ya?” Graystripe seemed laid-back, even despite what had happened; indeed, he seemed to have something of a spring to his step. “I’m sure Silverstream will be telling all the Clans about how she went fishing and caught a Thunderclan warrior, but you don’t see me complaining about being the butt of the joke, do you?”

She eyed her brother scornfully. “You seemed to be getting awfully familiar with her, you know.”

He shrugged as they walked along. “She saved my life, didn’t she? I didn’t want to be ungrateful.” He looked at Fireheart with a playful smirk. “And, hey, now we know not to cross the river two at a time.”

The ginger tom bowed his head shamefully. “I’m sorry, Graystripe. I didn’t know.”

The soaked warrior beside him shrugged nonchalantly. “It is what it is. Come on, the sooner we get into a warm nest, the better!”

Peppermask seemed like she wanted to argue, but Graystripe darted off before she could, leaving the other two warriors to catch up. The wind rushing past chilled Fireheart to the bone, but he didn’t protest as they raced through the forest. The other tom was right; the sooner he could get home and into a warm nest, the better he’d feel.

It wasn’t long at all before they were standing at the edge of the ravine, looking down into it. The moon was rising above the tree line now, and it was unlikely many cats were still up. They were quiet as they padded down the boulder path to the bramble tunnel; they didn’t want to disturb anyone.

As they emerged into the center of camp, it was Quickflash who was waiting for them. His eyes lit up at the sight of his daughter, and he padded over with a smile when he caught sight of the two bedraggled cats behind her. “What happened?” He asked as he looked down on them.

“They fell in the river trying to cross it at the same time.” She replied, her green gaze glaring at them disdainfully. “Mistyskip and Silverstream were passing by and managed to fish them out.”

“Riverclan?” Quickflash frowned as he looked down on his son. “Well. At least you all survived, that’s what’s important.” He glanced behind him at the leader’s den, just in time for Bluestar to emerge. “But what of your mission? Have you had any success?” He mewed, waving his tail for the leader to come join him.

“We did!” Graystripe mewed eagerly, stepping forward. “Windclan is back on the moors!”

“That is excellent news indeed.” Bluestar purred encouragingly, pausing to listen as Quickflash whispered an update in her ear. Her blue eyes narrowed at the two still-dripping toms, and Fireheart shrank beneath her gaze. “And while you should have been more careful returning home, all’s well that ends well. The three of you performed such a difficult task admirably.”

The ruddy warrior blinked in surprise, not expecting such warm praise. “T-Thank you, Bluestar.” He spoke quickly, glancing nervously at the other two. “Tallstar also said that he will not forget what Thunderclan did for his Clan.”

She dipped her head in acknowledgement. “That is excellent to hear. Tallstar has always been a good leader to Windclan. Thunderclan can only benefit from having his favor as well.” She flicked her tail towards the healer’s den. “You two should go see Yellowfang. She’ll want to keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t develop a cold.”

“Of course, Bluestar.” Fireheart dipped his head respectfully to her before swatting Graystripe with his tail. “C’mon. I bet your sister will be glad to see us.”

The other tom huffed but said nothing as they padded across camp, into the crack in the ravine where Yellowfang slept. Inside, the moonlight made it difficult to see for several moments, but as his eyes adjusted he could see the two were slumbering in their nests.

“Yellowfang?” He mewed softly as he padded over and poked her with one paw, glancing at Graystripe behind him. “I’m sorry to disturb you…”

The dark gray molly startled awake with a snort. “Huh? Wha?” She shook her head as she oriented herself. “Fireheart. Back so soon?” She looked over him dourly. “What, did you use the river to get home?”

He winced, looking down at his paws. “We, uh. We both fell while crossing the river.” He flicked his ear to Graystripe behind him. “It was my fault. I was a mousebrain.”

“Of course it was.” She nodded to the patient nests on the other side of the den. They all seemed to be empty for the time being. “Not much you can do now except groom away the water and rest. You should sleep in the same nest, if you can; the body heat will be good for you.” She turned to look at Dewpaw, who had sleepily sat up. “Go back to sleep. Just two mousebrains that need some sleep, is all.”

“Ok.” She murmured, sinking back down into her nest. Yellowfang flopped back into her own nest, leaving the two young warriors to settle in themselves. 

"Is everything alright?" He asked her carefully. He had never seen the perceptive warrior so nervous before.

She hesitated for a long moment, then sighed and shrugged. "I'm sure we'll discuss it with Bluestar." With that, she swiftly departed, her gray fur shining in the morning light as she entered camp.

Fireheart took only a moment to stretch and shake himself out before following her to the leader's den. He stopped in front of the lichen covering as it swished behind her, a shiver running up his spine. He had never been inside before. He remembered what Graystripe had said, his first day in camp; "Every cat gets called inside Bluestar’s den, at some point. You just gotta hope you’re not in trouble when you do!"

He certainly hoped he wasn't in trouble now.

He pushed his way through, his eyes quickly adjusting to the shadows. The den was larger than he had expected, almost the size of the apprentices' den, perhaps a bit larger. In the back, he could see one large nest on a flat stone, presumably Bluestar's, though he couldn't make out much more than that. 

He didn't get much chance to examine his surroundings before Bluestar spoke in front of him. "There you are, Fireheart. I hope you got enough sleep." He swung his head towards her, trying to detect if she was being sarcastic, but she seemed genuine enough.

"I did, thank you." He looked around to see the other cats inside. There were only the three newest warriors, Bluestar, and Quickflash. He supposed that made sense; he was both their father and the deputy, after all.

The great leader nodded at his words. "I'll get to the point, then. I assume you know why you're here?"

Fireheart dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Because of the Gathering last night, right? You want us to find Windclan and bring them home."

"Indeed." Bluestar studied him carefully. "I admit I was hasty last night. You three have been warriors for less than a season now. Assigning three young warriors to such an important mission is… unconventional, to be sure." She glanced at Quickflash, who merely flicked his ear. "I have faith in you, but I want to be sure you have faith in yourselves. If you do not think you are prepared, I will not think less of you for choosing not to go."

He considered her words. Indeed, part of him was still nervous at the thought of failing such a momentous task. But part of him was excited, too. He had never met Windclan before, and was eager for the opportunity to do so. And the words he had heard from both Yellowfang and Redtail echoed through his mind. Fire alone can save our Clan; perhaps he was also destined to save Windclan too? "I'll go." He finally said out loud.

"Me too." Graystripe announced, puffing out his chest. "I know we can do this. Right, Peppermask?"

His sister, however, was frowning, just as she had been the night before. "Bluestar, I mean no offense." She mewed quietly as she finally met the leader's gaze. "But why us? You're right; we're young and inexperienced. Surely it would be better to send senior warriors, right?"

The silver queen dipped her head at the other molly's question. "Certainly, there are some that might agree with that line of thinking." She replied smoothly, as though she had been expecting the question. "But after thinking about it, I have realized that I wouldn't have chosen anyone else for this mission."

Peppermask narrowed her eyes at that. "Why not Whitestorm? Lionheart? Dappleshine? Why us?" 

Bluestar shook her head. "They have their own skills, yes, but so do you. Fireheart has experience traversing unfamiliar ground and dealing with Twolegs that will be invaluable on your travels. Dappleshine tells me that you, Peppermask, are one of the best trackers in the Clan, not to mention your swiftness and cunning will be invaluable in pursuing Windclan beyond their borders. And Graystripe is growing to be one of the best fighters in the Clan, or so Lionheart says. You three will be prepared for any obstacles you may face beyond our borders." The two toms straightened proudly at the leader's praise, while Peppermask looked on dubiously.

"Do you really think we can find them? After all this time? When not even Shadowclan could?" She pressed the leader anxiously.

"I doubt Shadowclan was truly looking for them, once they were certain that they had the moorlands under their control." Bluestar dismissed her concern with a flick of her tail. "While finding them may be a difficult task, you are looking for an entire Clan; warriors, kits, queens, and elders. They will most definitely have left a trail behind, and they could not have gone too far. If they are still out there, I am certain you three will find them."

"C'mon, Peppermask! Live a little!" Graystripe urged, nudging his sister heartily. "It'll be an adventure! We could become legends!"

She snorted crossly. "Well, I prefer to think these things through. We'll only have each other to rely on if something goes wrong. It could be extremely dangerous."

"We didn't become warriors by avoiding danger, you know." Fireheart pointed out on her other side. "I trust you, Peppermask. With you by our side, I know we'll be able to find Windclan."

She sighed, looking down at her light-colored paws for a long moment before nodding. "Alright. I'll go as well."

"I'm glad to hear it." Bluestar purred. "I've already arranged with Yellowfang to have traveling herbs waiting for you three. You can leave as soon as you're ready."

As the three stood, Quickflash stepped forward. "Be safe, all of you. Your mother and I will be waiting for your successful return." He touched noses with each of them, including Fireheart. "May Starclan light your path."

The three of them exited the shady den into the bright morning light, Fireheart squinting his eyes as they adjusted. "So we get traveling herbs, and then… that's it? We go?" He questioned the other two, but they seemed just as lost as him.

"I suppose so." Peppermask nodded to the crack in the gorge. "To the healer's den, then."

As they entered, only Yellowfang was waiting for them. "There you are." The grizzled gray molly grunted, turning to collect three herb packets and place them in front of the warriors. "Swallow them whole if you can. They last longer that way."

Fireheart unfurled his leaf to see several frilly leaves mixed in with the herbs he remembered from before. "What are these? And where is Dewpaw?" He asked, poking one leaf with a single claw.

"Feverfew. The stuff we have is a bit stale, so I figured you might as well have them before they go bad. Dewpaw went out with her sister to go collect more before a leafbare freeze gets them." She sighed and shook her head mournfully. "We'll be lucky if we make it through with only a few cases of whitecough."

Fireheart nodded and bent down to lap up the herbs. They were as bitter as before, though this time he could've sworn they tasted slightly like squirrel. "Thank you, Yellowfang." He murmured softly.

She grunted. "May Starclan light your path." With that, she turned her back to the three warriors as she began sorting through the herb stocks, evidently dismissing them.

The camp was mostly empty as they emerged from the den, most warriors being out on patrol this time of day. Those that remained, however, gave them respectful nods as they went past. All the Clan must have heard by now the mission they had been given, and none dared to stand in their way.

"I guess that's it, then." Graystripe meowed with a nervous purr. "Where do you think we should start?"

"We need to find Windclan camp." Peppermask responded slowly as she looked around, taking in their camp. Her tail was still flicking nervously, and Fireheart couldn't fault her; this was the last time they would be in camp for a while. It felt strange to leave it for more than a day, after he had spent so long confined to it. "So I guess we head for Fourtrees."

"To Fourtrees, then." The two toms echoed. With one final, resolute nod to each other, the three warriors departed from their camp, determined to find the lost Windclanners at any cost.

Though the wind was brisk in the late leaffall morning, the sun that shone through the canopy was strong enough to warm their coats as the three young warriors traveled swiftly through Thunderclan territory towards Fourtrees. Fireheart’s heart beat quickly with anticipation as he leaped over twisted roots and fallen logs. He did his best to keep his mind from wandering as they ran; he feared that if he thought too much on the journey ahead of them, the importance of the task would overwhelm him and stop him in his tracks.

They slowed as they came to the river at the edge of their territory, the tree crossing that they used to get to Fourtrees in front of them. As his eyes trailed across the slippery log, he spotted a Riverclan border patrol on the other side. He flicked an ear nervously to the other two as they began making their way down the slope.

“They have to let us pass, right?” Graystripe hissed to the other two. “I mean, we’re on a special mission. Crookedstar himself agreed to it!”

“Of course. We’ll be fine.” Even so, Fireheart could hear the wariness in the gray molly’s voice as they made their way down the slope to the river. She had good reason to be; as they came closer, it was easy to spy the golden pelt of Leopardflame, Riverclan’s zealous deputy that had argued with Bluestar the night before. He could see her catch sight of them at the same time, her ears flattening as they approached.

“Well, well.” The spotted tabby’s growl reached them across the bubbling of the river. “A Thunderclan patrol, hoping to cross to our side of the river? I should hope not.” Her golden-green eyes simmered with unbridled fury as she glared at them, planting her paws firmly at the other end of the river crossing as though daring them to cross.

His heart sank as he listened to her words. “Come now, Leopardflame. You know we’re only passing through.” He kept his voice light and friendly as he spoke, hoping to appease her. 

The deputy’s lips curled up in a snarl. “All I see are three nosy and overly righteous Thunderclanners trying to trespass right in front of our border patrol.” She spat back. “It doesn’t matter what you think you’re going to do. You’ll not do it on Riverclan territory, not while I’m around.”

Though he could feel the fur on his tail beginning to rise, he forced it to lay flat and swished it languidly instead. “Crookedstar agreed to let us go on this mission. You don’t have any reason to turn us away.” He pleaded gently with her, though he knew in his heart it wasn’t worth the breath.

She snorted. “Did he? I don’t remember that.” 

As he opened his mouth to respond, Peppermask tapped him on the leg with her tail. “Don’t bother, there’s no point. We can take the Thunderpath bridge instead. It’ll be dangerous, but…”

“Nonsense.” Fireheart startled as a silver-furred and blue-eyed molly stepped forward from behind Leopardflame. For a moment, he wondered how Bluestar had managed to get across the river faster than the patrol; then he realized she was missing the scar on her shoulder. “Enough of this, Leopardflame. Do you think Crookedstar would be pleased to hear about you going back on his word? Or your father to hear about how you turned away the patrol sent for Birchbark and Windclan? They were good friends, before Brokentail’s attack, as I’m sure you remember.”

The first molly directed a dark, furious glare at the one behind her. “Who says they have to hear of it?” She spoke, her voice so soft that Fireheart could hardly catch it over the bubbling of the river.

The other Riverclanner met her glare with a decidedly detached gaze. “Because my uncle will ask me what happened on this patrol. It’s up to you exactly what I’ll tell him.”

There was a silent staring contest between the two, a battle of wills that the Thunderclanners didn’t dare to interrupt. At last, Leopardflame turned away with a low growl. “Whatever. We still have to reset the border under the bridge and return before sunhigh.” She hissed, before glaring over at the Thunderclanners. “If I catch any of you lingering when we come back, you can be certain there’ll be trouble.” She spat at them as she began walking off along the riverbank, her tail twitching even as she held it high.

Her patrol followed along uneasily, the silver molly giving a respectful dip of her head to the three before following. As soon as they were out of sight, all three of the Thunderclan warriors scrambled over the log and up the slope to Fourtrees. “I heard Leopardflame could be stubborn, but I never imagined she could be that bad!” Graystripe mewed as they reached the edge of the large hollow containing the Great Rock and Fourtrees.

“You’re telling me. She acted like we’d bitten off her tail!” Fireheart responded as they padded down the slope. “And who was that molly that spoke back to her? The one that looked just like Bluestar?”

“Huh?” Graystripe shot him a puzzled look. “Oh, you mean Mistyskip? I guess she does look a bit like Bluestar.” Fireheart scoffed at that. The two looked practically identical, were it not for the scar! “She’s Stonestep’s sister. You’ve met him, yea? Their father is Oakheart, which makes Crookedstar their uncle.”

“Ah. That explains why Leopardflame caved when she mentioned her uncle.” Fireheart nodded appreciatively. “I’m glad she stepped up for us. I was sure Peppermask was right and we’d have to take the Thunderpath.”

“She seemed very reasonable when I met her at the Gathering.” The silver spotted warrior mewed as they padded over the grassy clearing. “I guess where Stonestep takes after his father, she’s always idolized Crookedstar more. They’re both very clever and wise.”

“If only Leopardflame was too.” The gray tom beside him grumbled. “Talk about an unlucky start to our mission!”

Fireheart shrugged. “It was a minor obstacle, nothing more.” He nodded to the shadow of the Great Rock. “Do you think we should rest here and wait for sunhigh to pass?” While it was still a ways away from sunhigh, he wasn’t sure when they’d get another chance to rest.

Peppermask shook her head. “Windclan territory is huge, remember? We’re going to need all the time we can get to try and find their camp before the sun sets.”

Though he wasn’t looking forward to trudging through the tall grass of Windclan territory at the sun’s zenith, he had to agree with her logic. When they had traveled the moors before, it had been almost sunset by the time they arrived on the other side. If they didn’t find the camp before night fell, then they would have to hope they could find shelter in unfamiliar territory, or risk being attacked by owls, foxes, and other horrors that lurked in the darkness.

When neither disagreed with her, the young molly flicked her tail forward in a silent command to move. The three bounded their way up the far side of Fourtrees, making their way over the roots of one tree to reach the top. Fireheart looked over the grass, trying to spot any sign of a camp from where they were, but it was just endless waves of green and gold as far as the eye could see.

“I don’t suppose there’s any Windclan tracks we can follow?” Graystripe supplied unhelpfully. Fireheart sniffed at the air and looked over the ground, but he knew in his heart that any Windclan scent or tracks had been long swept away by greenleaf storms.

“No. I doubt any of the Shadowclan tracks lead directly to their camp, either.” Peppermask sighed as she surveyed the moors. “We’ll just have to walk until we find it.”

He suppressed a groan, following her down into the grasses beneath them. The scent of Shadowclan was still ever-present as they traveled; though it was several days old, it still made the Thunderclan warrior nervous. If there were any fresher scents around, it would be difficult to tell under the old ones. The walls of grass pressing in on either side of him didn’t help matters; he felt as though he was being hemmed in with no way to escape. Though he said nothing, he had a feeling the other two were of a similar mind.

It was worse when there were no markers by which to tell the way. Without being able to see, he couldn’t tell if they were walking in circles or not. The only thing that truly seemed to change was the position of the sun in the sky, as it reached its height and began setting towards the horizon.

His legs were beginning to ache from the unceasing pace when Peppermask finally slowed to a walk, her nose bobbing in the air as she tried in vain to catch a scent. “We’re not getting anywhere like this. We’re just going to tire ourselves out running around.”

“What do you think we should do, then?” Graystripe questioned from his position at the back of the patrol. “I mean, it’s not like we can just call for them and expect them to answer…”

Peppermask shook her head. “Maybe we could head for Highstones instead? Though I don’t know if even Starclan’s sight will be able to help us…”

Fireheart considered that for a moment, an idea forming in his mind. “Maybe we don’t need to go all the way to Highstones for Starclan’s sight.”

Graystripe tilted his head quizzically. “What, you expect them to visit us here? I don’t think even Redtail’s spirit will leave the forest.”

The ginger tom shook his head. “No, what I mean is that we need a higher perspective, like Starclan has, if we’re going to find their camp. There has to be something out here besides grass and some heather, right?” He gestured to the clump of light flowers they had stopped beside. “Maybe if we can get up above the grass, we’ll be able to see some sort of sign that will help point us in the right direction.”

Peppermask blinked, her ears perking up as he spoke. “That’s not a bad idea at all.” She mewed with a hint of surprise and delight. “Hey, Graystripe, help boost me up.”

The large tom complied as his sister stood on her hind paws, not unlike a Twoleg, using her front paws on his back to steady herself. Her eyes barely reached over the wild grass, but after a few moments of surveying she dropped back to four paws with a trill of joy. “There’s a tree over this way we could use!”

They followed her, their hope renewed at the potential breakthrough. It was scarcely any time at all before they had made their way to the base of a crooked, windswept tree that looked as though it had died several season-cycles prior. Fireheart eyed it warily. “Are you sure it’ll support our weight? It looks like it’ll break in a strong gust.”

Graystripe leaped onto it, claws digging into the wood to support himself. It swayed a bit, but there was no cracking or breaking that any of them could tell. “I think it’s fine, as long as we keep to the main branches.” He called down to the other two.

The other two quickly joined him, the three of them taking up positions in the tree so that they could see the entire horizon. As Fireheart scanned, searching for any sign of a camp, Graystripe called out. “Hey, look at that giant pile of gorse!”

The other two turned to see what he was talking about. Indeed, there was a large circle of flowering gorse bushes far in the distance, forming a thick wall against the elements. “It definitely looks big enough to be a camp from here.” His sister replied. “Probably the only place that can protect against the wind out here. We should check it out.”

“Agreed.” Fireheart made his way down the tree, the other two landing beside him moments later. “If not, we can probably wait there for the night. I don’t want to be caught out in the dark.”

“It will be.” Graystripe replied with such conviction Fireheart found it hard to doubt him. Together, they moved in the direction of the gorse, making occasional stops to check and make sure they were still on the right path.

The stale scent of Shadowclan, though easily a moon old, still became stronger as they approached until it was almost overwhelming. “Brokentail really had to rub it in, didn’t he? It wasn’t enough to just drive them out of their home.” Peppermask’s voice was low and tinted with disgust and ire. 

“Nothing was ever enough for him.” The ruddy warrior replied with disdain. “The whole forest wouldn’t have been enough territory, either.”

The gorse bushes loomed over them, and for a moment Fireheart thought about suggesting they circle it looking for an entrance. However, it was clear there was no need for that. Though the bushes had partially healed themselves with time, he could see holes that had been clawed through, large enough for cats to enter or escape. Lingering remnants of the attack, he supposed.

“Here.” Peppermask nosed one of the wider holes that hadn’t grown over much. Though Graystripe had to crouch to enter, they made their way into the hollow, anxiously awaiting what they would find.

The hollow was made of sandy dirt, loose on the edges where they were standing but compacted by pawprints closer to the center. In the middle sat a large, crooked, silver-colored birch tree that was just barely taller than the gorse bushes. He could spy another, smaller hawthorn tree on the far end, and near them was a shallow cave that burrowed into the earth. There were other places where branches of dead gorse were woven together and attached to the still living bushes; various dens that the Windclanners had made over time, he supposed. 

Even despite the season that had passed, evidence of the attack remained. Broken nests and branches were strewn around, and blood stained various areas of the hollow. A few tufts of fur were still caught in the gorse, light and dark alike. And even now, as he drew the air over his tongue to scent it, he could catch faint hints of fear that lingered.

“I guess we’ve found their camp.” Graystripe mewed as they looked around. “It’s horrible… I can’t even imagine what it’s supposed to look like, normally. To think this used to be as busy as our camp once.”

His heart ached at the thought. They hadn’t been so far away from a fate like that, themselves. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like for a Windclanner to see their camp ravaged like this.

“It’s strange, though.” Peppermask was looking around, her ears low. “Where are all the bodies? I’m sure Shadowclan had time to retrieve their dead, but Windclan… I can’t imagine they all survived the attack.”

Fireheart blinked as he looked around. She was right: even despite the pools of blood, the sort of blood loss that few cats could survive, there were no bodies laying around.

“That is strange.” He agreed out loud now, looking to the other two for their thoughts. “Brokentail was hardly the type to respect Starclan and bury the enemy dead.”

Graystripe's eyes suddenly widened and his fur bristled. "You don't think Brokentail took them and..." He paused, dropping his voice to an almost whisper, "ate them, do you?"

He felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought, and he could see Peppermask bristling beside him. The mere thought was horrific to think about, but it made sense in a cruel and twisted way. After all, Brokentail had rarely spared warriors to go hunting. Was it so far a stretch to think he would have fed them their fallen enemies?

After a long, horrible silence, Peppermask slowly shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. There’s no way that we wouldn’t have noticed cat corpses while we were in Shadowclan camp.”

The ginger tom breathed a sigh of relief at the perceptive molly’s words. She was right, of course; though there had been lots of crowfood strewn about, it had all been small and visibly half-eaten. “Yeah, you’re right.” He frowned immediately after. “But that still doesn’t explain where the bodies went, then.”

Peppermask nodded slowly. “Well, bodies are pretty heavy. We should look around; we might find a trail.”

“We should be careful, though.” Fireheart glanced towards the shallow den he had spotted earlier. “I doubt Shadowclan was patrolling around here very often. We don’t know if anything might have moved in since Windclan was driven out.”

The three of them all instinctively tasted the air for fox or badger scent, but it was hard to smell anything under the stench Brokentail had left. “We’ll just have to be careful. Yowl if you find anything.” With that, the silver molly headed for the tree on the other side of camp.

The young ruddy warrior waved his tail towards the cave. “Help me check out what’s in there? I’m worried it could be a badger sett.” 

Graystripe nodded. “It does look like one, doesn’t it? Though I suppose there’s not much else to make a den out of.” With that, the two cautiously prowled towards it, Fireheart taking the lead as he made his way slowly inside. 

The air inside was old and stale, but the smells were familiar, almost comforting. Scattered on the floor of the den were dozens of now dried leaves and flowers, turned mostly brown in the dry air. “This must have been the healer’s den.” Fireheart mused aloud as he turned over one frail leaf scrap with a claw.

“Birchbark, wasn’t it?” Graystripe asked as he entered and looked around, the other tom glancing around with him. The den was smaller than the healer’s den in the Thunderclan camp, with only room for a couple of nests. He wondered what they would do in the case of an outbreak, or a difficult battle. “Well, no badgers in here, at least. I’m gonna go check out some of the other dens.”

“Sure.” He flicked an ear in goodbye as the dark gray warrior turned and left, leaving him alone amongst the herb wreckage. 

He sniffed around, searching for some sort of clue. Interestingly, there was no blood: either Birchbark hadn’t fought back, or Brokentail’s assault had never entered the healer’s den. But then, why were all the herbs in such disarray? Perhaps, he reasoned, Birchbark had grabbed several of them in a hurry when he heard fighting, not realizing how bad the situation was.

He gazed over the herbs, hoping that perhaps they had left some secret signal that indicated where they were going, but he knew in his heart that there was nothing else left to find here. Mildly discouraged, he exited the den, his eyes adjusting once more to the still bright sunlight outside.

He padded towards the tree in the middle of camp. Though it was visibly gnarled, it was strangely beautiful in the way it twisted and turned until the canopy reached for the sky above. Encircling its base was a small stream of rainwater, which the roots grew through eagerly. At the very base, in the tangle of roots, was a single nest, woven in with the roots as though it were growing out of them. The leader’s nest, he figured.

Moss had been dragged out of it, all the way down to the water’s edge. Some of it was soaked up with blood, he noticed; the Windclan leader had been attacked as he was sleeping, or at the very least in his nest. He crossed the protective stream and halfheartedly collected the moss back into the nest with a paw, though he didn’t really know why; it wasn’t as though it would do anything either way. 

He looked up as he heard a yowl echo through camp. “Hey, over here!” Peppermask called, and he swiftly climbed over the birch roots towards her, near the hawthorn tree where he had seen her last.

Graystripe also rushed over from another side of camp at his sister’s shout, the three of them converging around a series of heather clumps that were rather distinct from the gorse bushes that surrounded camp. “Something heavy was dragged through here.” Peppermask lightly traced her paw along a shallow groove in the earth that disappeared into the heather. “I don’t know how recent it is, but I think we should follow it.”

Fireheart nodded. “It’s the best lead we’ve found so far.”

“You should take the lead.” Graystripe nudged his sister with one broad shoulder. “After all, you’re the one that found it.”

“Well, of course. Wouldn’t want you to lose the trail.” She pushed him away with her paw before standing and beginning to carefully walk alongside the tracks, into the heather. As Fireheart followed her, he found the heather bushes opened into a wide tunnel through the gorse. This, he realized, must be the real entrance to the camp. It was well disguised from both ends; he would have had trouble finding it were it not for the trail in the dirt leading through it.

He was worried they might lose the trail in the tall grass outside camp, but it began following a well-worn path that was clearly made by generations of Windclan before them. It felt strange, walking in the pawsteps of a Clan he’d never met, but he said nothing as they walked along the edge of the trail. 

Eventually they came to a meadow filled with small, pale red flowers. “Where are we?” Fireheart asked, glancing behind him. He could still see the gorse bushes over the tall grass, so they hadn’t gone very far. “The dirtplace, maybe?”

Peppermask shot him a look that was a mix of disgust and horror. “It’s the very opposite. This must be where Windclan bury their fallen.” She looked around the clearing, sadness filling her eyes. “It looks so similar to ours, except the mint would be flowering right now, not this sorrel.”

The ginger tom dipped his head and tail immediately in shame at her admonishment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

She sighed and shook her head. “It’s fine. I know you didn’t mean it.” The molly stepped delicately through the clearing as they followed the trail of crushed flowers. “This was definitely done recently. These leaves still haven’t grown back.”

“Maybe Nightstar did it? For Shadowclan to atone for their crimes.” Fireheart suggested as he sniffed at the leaves. Most of the scent had gone from them, meaning that it had been at least a quarter-moon since their destruction.

“Maybe.” She echoed him half-heartedly, her mind still evidently on following the trail. Then she stopped. “It ends here.”

“What? Like they disappeared?” Fireheart questioned as he came up beside her. There was a patch of disturbed flowers and leaves, but she was right; it stopped suddenly, as though they had suddenly grown wings and taken flight.

“Hardly.” With a paw, she swept the leaves aside with hardly any effort. His ears perked in surprise as the greenery tumbled away. “This dirt is loose, and fresh. It hasn’t been compacted by the storms from last moon. Someone was buried here recently.”

The two gray warriors bowed their heads respectfully, and Fireheart quickly copied them. “May their spirit find peace in Starclan.” Peppermask murmured softly.

“What now?” Graystripe asked. “I mean, we can’t just ask whoever was buried here what happened. Not unless we travel to the Moonstone.”

“Maybe not.” His sister admitted as she looked around. “But whoever buried them must have left clues behind. We should look around, see if we can catch a scent.”

The other two warriors nodded in silent agreement at her words, heading for different areas of the clearing. Fireheart headed for the trail they had taken from camp; perhaps, he reasoned, they had left the same way to help cover their tracks, but maybe they had left a clue the three had missed traveling here.

As he sniffed around, trying to catch a scent, Graystripe let out a howl of pain. Surprised, the ginger tom turned to see his friend had cut his nose on some sharp bramble thorns, a few drops of blood beginning to well up from it.

“Be careful! You nearly spooked the fur off of me.” Fireheart chided him, but nonetheless bounded over to make sure there wasn’t actually any danger. He drew the air over his tongue, but there was no scent of fox, badger, or Shadowclan; just Graystripe and the familiar tang of blood.

“And me.” Peppermask grumbled as she too came to make sure her brother was okay. “What were you thinking, sticking your nose in a bramble bush like that? Of course it’s going to scratch you!”

“I saw something!” Graystripe replied, pointing one paw into the bush while wiping his nose with the other. “I thought it might be a bird or a rabbit, and I was hungry…”

Fireheart peered into the brambles carefully, avoiding getting snagged like the gray tom had. To his surprise, Graystripe was right: on the other side of the bush, some light gray fur fluttered gently in the ever-present wind that swept over the moors.

“Peppermask! Look at that. Do you think a Windclanner left it behind?” He circled the bush to get a better view of it. The fur was a mix of tawny and gray, a mix of colors that he hadn’t seen before. He sniffed cautiously at it before backing away to allow the silver molly to do the same. “I can’t get a good scent off of it, though…”

She breathed in deeply, her nose almost buried into it. “It’s faint, but there’s definitely still some scent in it.” Her ears dipped after a moment. “It’s strange, though… it smells more like the Thunderpath than a cat.”

“Maybe they came here by the Thunderpath?” Fireheart proposed curiously as he sniffed it again. She was right; there was the faint smell of something burning laced into the fur that he had attributed to the flowers around them.

“Maybe.” She didn’t seem convinced, but didn’t press it any further as she sniffed around for a trail. “I think she went this way.” She flicked her tail in the direction that the sun was setting. “Is your nose recovered yet? Can we go?” She asked, looking snidely at her brother as he too circled the bush to meet them.