#pantherhaze

“How are you feeling?” Russetfrond asked when he managed to hobble out of the den in the late morning. 

“Um…” Pantherhaze squinted around the camp. His vision had mostly returned to normal, although certain patches of grass felt like they were fuzzy, in two places at once. His paws were still clammy and despite having overslept he had very little energy. 

He settled on, “I’m hanging in there.”

“Fogstalker says you got cursed?” Russetfrond said, raising a brow skeptically. “Sparrowsway says he didn’t get a good look. What happened?” 

“I don’t know,” Pantherhaze said genuinely. He let his vision fog as he tried to recall details about the incident. “The coyote had been scratching things on the ground and it was threatening Fogstalker and… I don’t know, I just got the feeling that it was about to do something so I threw myself in the way and then…” He frowned, his head tilting towards his shoulder, gaze falling over the blurry grass. “There was a big flash of light and I felt sick to my stomach, like I’d been thrown from a high place suddenly and, when I opened my eyes, everything was double.” 

“A flash of light?” scowled Russetfrond. “No one else mentioned a flash of light.” Pantherhaze looked up to see him sheathing and unsheathing his claws in thought. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “that’s just what I saw.” 

“It’s alright,” sighed Russetfrond. “You just focus on feeling better, okay?” He gave Pantherhaze a few licks around the ears and Pantherhaze closed his eyes and sighed into the feeling. It had been a while since they’d shared tongues. He missed it. 

After a moment, Russetfrond pulled away and said, “I’m off to check on the boys training but I’ll check on you when I get back, yeah?” 

“Okay,” smiled Pantherhaze, shivering suddenly. Russetfrond gave him a concerned frown and touched noses with him before heading out. 

Pantherhaze got breakfast, then went back to Oddstripe who confirmed that he did, in fact, still have a fever. 

“Get some rest,” Oddstripe told him. “Let me know if you feel any worse, okay?” 

“Okay,” he said, feeling weary and disappointed. He wanted to do something for the Clan, not be laid up in bed. Still, he reasoned that the sooner he got better, the sooner he would be back to helping out. So he went back to bed. 

Fogstalker was there, lifting up the moss of his nest. “Oh! Sorry,” she said. “I was just putting a ward under your nest to help you sleep.” 

“A ward -- that’s like a spell?” he asked, feeling very warm under his fur. 

“Yeah,” she said. “Oh, is that okay? Sorry, I should have asked.”

“It’s fine,” he said, too tired to care.

Fogstalker smiled apologetically. “Okay. I’ll hurry up.” She finished arranging poppy petals in a little circle she had drawn into the dirt. In the middle was a small pile of crushed thyme and the smell was honestly very soothing. 

She dropped the moss back down and smoothed it out, then turned to him and said, “There you go. That should help you sleep peacefully. Hopefully it can flush whatever Hui-che did to you out of your system.” She winced and gave him a little, hopeful shrug. 

“Thank you,” he said, moving to settle into his nest. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with the coyotes.”

“It’s alright,” Fogstalker sighed. “I don’t think I approached it right. I’ll figure it out.” She shrugged again. “Get some sleep.” 

“Okay,” he said, curling up into a tight little ball. He took slow deep breaths and tried to relax and soon enough he drifted off to sleep. 

---

Pantherhaze was standing in a thick, white fog, or rather a tunnel made of fog. The walls and floors and ceilings were fog, yet when he took a step forward or poked a wall with his nose it gave resistance as if it were moss instead. He opened his mouth to scent the air but the only smell was fresh water. 

For lack of something better to do, he started walking. He came to a fork from which split two identical fog tunnels. He cocked his head, glanced back and forth between them, and tried a cautious, “Hello?” His voice was swallowed by the walls, leaving him in an unnerving quiet.

“Hello?” he tried again, louder this time. 

Nothing. He sighed and tried to pick between the tunnels, looked over his shoulder and considered going back, when suddenly-- 

“Hello?” the faintest sound of a raspy voice carried down the tunnel on his left. 

“Hello?” he said, ears snapping upright. He quickly made his way down the tunnel towards the voice. “Hello, there?” 

“This way!” the voice was getting louder. “I’m here!” It sounded like a tom and that tom sounded relieved, elated maybe. 

“I’m coming,” called Pantherhaze. He took another turn and suddenly found himself nose to nose with another cat, much sooner than he had expected given the volume of his voice. Shock hit him like a pawful of water to the face. 

“Darkmoon?!” he gaped, eyes wide. 

In front of him stood the former EarthClan deputy, his speckled black fur slightly rumpled and unkempt, adorned with a coating of glittering stardust. Darkmoon stared back with a naked surprise that Pantherhaze had never seen him wear when he was alive. 

“Pantherhaze?” he croaked. “Oh, no. Are you dead too?” 

“I- I don’t think so,” said Pantherhaze, suddenly worried. “I thought I was just having a dream.” 

“A dream…” Darkmoon mumbled to himself, eyes roving erratically over the tunnel walls. Pantherhaze’s brow furrowed in concern. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. 

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Darkmoon twitched an ear dismissively. “You look solid. Not like the rest of us.” He looked Pantherhaze up and down after he said it, like he was confirming what he’d said with himself. 

“The rest of us?” Pantherhaze asked. “Are we in StarClan?” 

“No, I don’t think so,” Darkmoon shook his head. “Come, I’ll show you. But stay close. It’s a maze. You’ll get lost if you’re not… not careful.” His eyes flickered over the space some more, only increasing Pantherhaze’s level of concern. 

Before he could say anything, Darkmoon turned around and headed deeper into the tunnel, muttering to himself. The walls seemed to swallow the words and, as Pantherhaze followed, he realized their pawsteps made no noise either. He wondered -- if this was real -- how long Darkmoon had been in these strange, silent tunnels. 

“Up, here,” Darkmoon grunted beneath a tunnel that went into the ceiling and hopped up, claws shedding scraps of cloud as he hoisted himself up. Pantherhaze looked down the featureless tunnel ahead of them with a growing unease in his stomach. 

“Hurry up!” said Darkmoon impatiently. “Don’t get lost.” 

“Right! Sorry,” Pantherhaze called with an apologetic smile and hopped up behind him. 

After a few more turns, he started to hear very soft voices. 

“-eventually. We have to be close to finding a way out.”

“Maybe. Or there is no way out.” 

“No. No, there has to be a way out.” 

Darkmoon took a right at a fork and suddenly, they were in a small, round chamber with several branching paths splitting off of it. The two cats snapped to attention as they saw him, one of them freezing where he had been pacing. 

“You’re back,” he said, identifying himself as the first voice. He was a smallish, young-looking, masked brown tabby with sharp, green eyes. The cat behind him was larger and well built with a flat muzzle and white fur that made it hard to distinguish him from the wall. They both glittered with pinkish starlight. When the first tom’s eyes landed on Pantherhaze, they widened, and he added, “and with company.” Both of the toms tensed slightly. 

“This is Pantherhaze,” said Darkmoon, stepping to the side to let him in. “He’s a Clan cat like me. Pantherhaze, this is Harley. That’s Twister.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Pantherhaze said, slightly reeling by the sight of more cats in this strange place -- loners to boot. 

“He doesn’t look dead,” observed the larger cat -- Twister.

“No,” Harley agreed, eyes narrowing calculatingly. “No, he doesn’t. What brings you to the Clouds, friend?” 

Pantherhaze blinked. “The Clouds? Like literally?” 

“Yes,” Darkmoon nodded. “You’re supposed to travel through them to StarClan but without our guides, we got lost.” 

“Without your guides?!” Pantherhaze’s tail bristled in concern. “What happened to them?” 

“They were attacked,” said Harley. “By a cat twice Twister’s size.” 

“Razor,” growled Darkmoon. 

“Razor?! He- Okay,” he was trying to stay on board with everything but he was learning a lot in that moment. He’d always been told that cats outside the Clans ceased to exist after death but here he was, talking to two loners who were dead about a dead rogue who had attacked their StarClan guides -- or, was it just guides? He shook his head, overwhelmed. 

“He killed mine,” Darkmoon said. “Turned him to stardust in one swipe. I… I ran, like a coward.” He looked down at his paws in shame and Pantherhaze frowned sympathetically. 

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Harley soothed, stepping closer. “We did what we had to do.” 

“Yeah,” nodded Darkmoon. “Right.” He seemed shaken, despite his attempts to calm himself.

“So how did you get here, again?” asked Twister, pulling them back on topic. 

“Oh!” Pantherhaze blushed in embarrassment. “I… I’m not sure. I just went to sleep and woke up here?” 

“That’s- That’s it?” frowned Harley. He wore a petulant little scowl that completely took over his face. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Pantherhaze winced apologetically. 

Twister flicked Harley with his tail who glanced at him and seemed to remember himself. He shook his head and pulled a more relaxed expression onto his face, but the calculating edge returned to his eyes. He cocked his head to the side and approached Pantherhaze to get a closer look at him. 

“Are you… here? Like physically?” he asked and then, without waiting for a response, raised a paw to bat at Pantherhaze’s ears. Pantherhaze flinched backward but Harley seemed satisfied by the result. “No, look at that, I passed right through him.” 

“Interesting,” frowned Twister. 

“What does that mean?” Darkmoon growled, mostly to himself. 

“I don’t know,” Harley squinted and began to pace again. “This is quite the puzzle…” Pantherhaze blinked a few times, completely overwhelmed by everything that was happening, but let Harley think instead of asking questions. 

After a moment, the tabby stopped and asked, “How long has it been? Like what time of year is it?” 

“It’s hard to tell the time here,” Darkmoon added, looking at Pantherhaze. 

“Oh, uh, let’s see…” he thought aloud. “You died at the end of Newleaf, right? Now, it’s nearly Leafbare of the same year.” 

Darkmoon sighed in relief, a tiredness evaporating from his eyes. “Not too long then.” 

“Leafbare,” Harley frowned, “which season is that?” 

“Uh, the one with snow,” Pantherhaze offered, and Harley nodded seriously. 

“Okay, okay,” he said. “Let me think.” There was a long stretch of quiet where Harley paced and muttered to himself, his voice being soaked into the clouds around them, and the others sat and watched.

Eventually, Harley said, “Okay. I think we just don’t have enough information. What we need is for you to try and figure out how to get back here again and see if we can learn something about it when you do. Until then, we keep trying to map the tunnels and see if we can figure anything out on our own.” 

Twister rolled his eyes. “Great, so the same as always.” Harley’s tail rippled angrily and he pressed his mouth into a thin line as if he were trying to resist a scowl which seemed to amuse Twister greatly. Pantherhaze glanced awkwardly at Darkmoon but the former deputy was frowning at the floor, lost in thought. 

Harley spoke again. “Does that sound like something you can do, uh…” 

“Pantherhaze.” 

“Yes,” Harley smiled. “Panther Haze. Do you think that you can try and help us out?” 

“Sure,” Pantherhaze said, straightening up with the responsibility. “I mean, I’ll try.” 

Harley’s smile flattened slightly in frustration but he nodded. “Well, I suppose that’s all we can ask for.” 

“StarClan,” Darkmoon said. 

“What?” Harley’s ear twitched as he raised a brow. 

“You have to tell StarClan,” said Darkmoon, looking up at Pantherhaze. “The River of Stars. Someone has to let them know we’re here, maybe they can find us.” 

Harley shifted awkwardly. “Maybe… We don’t know what they would do to Twister and I.” 

Pantherhaze frowned and took a step closer. “They won’t do anything to you, I’m sure. I’m sure they would help you try and… get wherever you were supposed to be.” He screwed his mouth to the side as he tried to think about what that would actually be. This whole interaction had left him with so many questions about an afterlife he had never really questioned before. 

“We’ll see,” said Harley, clearly unconvinced. 

“StarClan will know what to do,” Darkmoon said determinedly. 

Harley sighed. “If you say so. Let’s just hope something changes soon. I don’t know how much longer I can-” 

Pantherhaze sat up in his nest with a sharp gasp. 

“Sorry!” winced Yellowpaw around a mouthful of moss, his hind paw shooting up and away from Pantherhaze’s tail. 

Behind him, Bluepaw tensed. “Yellowpaw! I told you to be careful!” It looked like they were in the middle of changing out the nests. 

“I said I was sorry!” whined his brother. “It was an accident!” 

“It’s fine,” Pantherhaze said quickly, lurching to his feet. “What time is it?” 

“Uh, nearly sundown, sir,” Bluepaw said, straightening his posture. 

“Is Goldenstar around?” 

“I think she’s getting ready to leave on patrol,” Yellowpaw said. 

“I have to speak with her!” Pantherhaze hurried towards the entrance to the den, then turned around suddenly and added, “Don’t touch my nest, okay?” Both of the boys flinched in surprise. 

“Uh- okay!” Bluepaw said. “We won’t!” 

“Thanks,” sighed Pantherhaze. If Fogstalker’s ward had done anything, he didn’t want to mess with it. He had to try and get back to the others somehow. 

He hurried out of the den, slightly nauseated but energized by his mission, and cast about for sight of Goldenstar. He eventually caught sight of her talking with Russetfrond and Branchbark on the edge of camp and he threw himself into motion to close the distance between them. 

“Goldenstar!” he shouted, completely devoid of any concern for how frantic he looked. All three cats turned to look at him with varying degrees of concern and surprise on their faces. 

“Pantherhaze, is everything okay?” she asked, stepping towards him. 

“The boys didn’t wake you did they?” scowled Russetfrond. 

“No, they’re fine,” he lied immediately. “That’s not important. I had a vision!” All three cats started. 

Goldenstar asked, “A vision? What happened?” 

“I’ll get Oddstripe,” Branchbark offered and bounded off to the Healer’s den. 

Pantherhaze watched him go but didn’t wait to answer Goldenstar’s question. “I don’t know exactly what it was, it didn’t feel like a sign from StarClan or anything. I woke up in this strange place, they called it the Clouds, I think…” He frowned, trying to remember the little details of his encounter. 

“They?” asked Russetfrond. “Who’s they?”

“Oh! That’s the crazy part!” said Pantherhaze. “Darkmoon! A-and a couple of loners, dead ones.” 

“Darkmoon?!” Goldenstar gaped. “But it wasn’t a sign from StarClan?” 

“No,” he shook his head. “He said that- that Razor had killed his StarClan guide? And he and the loners were stuck in this place between here and StarClan.” 

Oddstripe and Branchbark arrived at that moment and Oddstripe’s big eyes were wide with amazement. “A place between here and StarClan?” 

“Razor killed a StarClan guide?” growled Russetfrond uneasily. “After death?!” 

“Apparently,” Pantherhaze said to both questions. “And whatever guide was supposed to take the Loners wherever they were going.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Branchbark said. “Loners and rogues are destroyed when they die.” 

“Well, I might have dreamed it all,” said Pantherhaze, “but it felt weirdly real. Darkmoon told me to send someone to talk to StarClan and see if they can find them from the other side.”

“Darkmoon? Oh, this is fascinating,” said Oddstripe. “I’ll gladly go and talk with StarClan. Please, tell me everything, from the beginning.” He laid his tail over Pantherhaze’s back and started to guide him towards the Healer’s den. 

“Of course,” he nodded and fell into step. 

“Do you think this has something to do with the coyotes?” Goldenstar murmured to Russetfrond as they left. 

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “I’m skeptical but this feels too strange to be coincidence.” 

“We should tell EarthClan,” she said. “Send someone to fetch Stormwhisper.” 

“On it,” he said, and the two parted, Goldenstar bounding to join him and Oddstripe. 

“I have a feeling you’re going to be answering a lot of questions for a while,” said Goldenstar with an apologetic smile. 

“That’s alright,” Pantherhaze said. “If I can help, I want to.” 

“Just let me know if you feel unwell,” said Oddstripe. “Your recovery still takes priority.” 

It seemed that she wasn’t the only one feeling unsettled. 

“We’re almost there,” Dawnbird said after scenting the air. 

“I don’t like this,” muttered Orangestar. “It’s probably nothing but this is… this is where we killed Razor.” 

That made Fogstalker stand up straighter. “Really? That does feel important, somehow.” 

“Surely, it’s just a coincidence,” said Sparrowsway. 

“I don’t know,” she shook her head. She felt it in her gut, that this was too significant to ignore. If it was Hui-che, there had to be some magical reason she chose the place. She screwed her mouth to the side to think of what it could be.

A sharp yip ahead through the trees snapped her out of her thoughts. The patrol froze, tails bristling. 

“Coyotes,” whispered Bogmist. 

“Don’t worry,” Fogstalker said, “I’ll handle this.” She padded deeper into the woods, ahead of the patrol. She could see a break in the trees ahead, maybe a small clearing. 

“Fogstalker, no!” Sparrowsway hissed quietly but she ignored him. 

“Hui-che!” she sang, trying to remember how the notes of it went. “Hui-che, it’s me! Your magic cat friend!” There was rustling up ahead. She glanced back at the patrol to find them all paralyzed. She curled her tail invitingly and said, “Come on, it’s gonna be fine.” 

Very carefully, Pantherhaze moved to join her and the others carefully followed his lead, although the EarthClan cats shared a few worried glances. Satisfied, Fogstalker returned her attention ahead of her and ventured calmly through the trees. 

“Hui-che, are you there?” she called again. 

“Frog-paw?” sing-songed the familiar voice. 

Fogstalker couldn’t help but grin and pick up her pace. “Yeah! Although, I have a new name now.” She broke through into the clearing, a small gap between the trees a few fox-lengths across which was made to feel smaller by the two coyotes standing in it. Behind them, against the roots of a large tree, there were signs of digging, the beginnings of a den. 

Fogstalker recognized Hui-che instantly, with its ginger points and curious smile, but the second one was completely new to her. He was more grey than it was, bigger than it too, and wore a dark scowl -- or at least, what she thought a scowl might look like on a coyote’s face. 

“Hey-lo, friend!” chirped Hui-che. “Good to seeing you again.” 

Fogstalker nodded and said, “You too! Who is this?” She jutted her nose towards the second coyote. 

“This Auch-lo,” said Hui-che, singing his name with a different melody than its own. “Heart-mate. We nest make-ing here. Good, rotting magic touch-ing here. You feel it?” It sniffed at the ground and grinned, yipping something in its language. 

Fogstalker scented the air but didn’t notice anything immediate. There was a slight unease in the air, though, prickling at the back of her neck. “I think so,” she said, “but I’m not as good at hunting it as you are, I think.” 

“Mm,” Hui-che nodded. “Show-ing you, sometime.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Fogstalker smiled. Orangestar cleared her throat, which reminded Fogstalker why she was there. “Oh, yeah! I came to talk with you on behalf of my friends.” She gestured with her tail and the patrol behind her shifted uneasily. 

“Bee-half?” Hui-che cocked its head to the side, eyes narrowing. 

“Um, I talk for them,” Fogstalker tried to clarify, brows furrowing. 

“Mm,” Hui-che hummed, shifting its posture. 

“This is Orangestar,” Fogstalker said. “This is her territory. Her nest is nearby. She asked me to come talk to you about finding a different place for you to go.” 

Hui-che was squinting at her with what felt like a scowl on its long face. “You chase-ing us? Make us run-ing?” It swiped a paw over the ground in front of it, brushing mulch to the side. Behind it, Auch-lo started to circle sideways. Bogmist and Orangestar tensed and adjusted their stances. Fogstalker could feel the tension rising dangerously.

“Well- No, we don’t want to chase you,” she said, stepping closer. “But if you stay here there won’t be enough food for everyone, yourself included.” 

“We leave grass nest-ing ‘cause you ask-ing!” yipped Hui-che with a jab of its muzzle towards Pantherhaze. “We friends! But you chase-ing us! All cats chase-ing us!” Again, it swiped a paw through the mulch, clawing twice across the line it had previously drawn, its eyes locked on Fogstalker the whole time.

“I’m sorry,” Fogstalker said. “I know it probably feels like we’re targeting you. But cats already live here, this wouldn’t be a good place for a nest anyway. We can help you find a new nesting spot, though!” 

Hui-che seemed to process about half of what she said. Shaking its head, it said, “No. Is perfect nest-ing spot! Strong rotting magic here! Show you!” The patrol was bristling, ready for a fight. She had to stop this now. 

“It’s okay,” Fogstalker said, moving closer, “Let’s just calm down, okay?” Hui-che bared its teeth and lifted a paw, glancing briefly down at the mulch at its feet so Fogstalker lowered her tail non-threateningly and slowly blinked at it as she took another step. 

“Fogstalker, wait!” Pantherhaze shouted and lunged for her. Hui-che slammed its paw down on the ground just as Pantherhaze threw himself in front of her and Fogstalker gasped at the rush of nausea that flooded over her like a physical wave. Pantherhaze cried out and her tail bristled in fright. 

“Pantherhaze? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She poked her head forward to check on him.

“Did it hit him?” Dawnbird asked. 

“I don’t think so,” said Sparrowsway tensely. Pantherhaze was grimacing and stumbled back into Fogstalker, pawing at his face. 

“Are you okay?” Fogstalker repeated, trying to look at his eyes. 

“I- I don’t-” he looked up at her and around the space, swaying unsteadily. “Everything is double.” He blinked heavily, his head continuing to sway and wobble as if unconsciously. 

“What did you do?!” Fogstalker turned on Hui-che, feeling tears starting to form in her eyes. 

“Show-ing you,” snapped Hui-che. “Magic strong here. You see.” 

Auch-lo barked something and Hui-che nodded. “Cats leave-ing. Now.” 

“What do we do?” Bogmist asked Orangestar quietly. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” moaned Pantherhaze. 

There was a long beat before Orangestar said, “Let’s go. We’ll figure out a plan in camp.” 

Fogstalker was burning with rage, hot tears spilling down her face. She had to work to pull her claws out of the mulchy earth and start guiding Pantherhaze away. Even as she did, she glared over her shoulder at the coyotes with seething bitterness. Auch-lo had rejoined Hui-che in the middle of the clearing and was licking its muzzle. Hui-che spared Fogstalker a glance and then turned away to start scratching shapes into the ground around the edges of the clearing. 

“What happened back there?” Sparrowsway was asking, drawing Fogstalker’s attention back to the others. 

“A spell,” she said, choking down her anger. “I don’t know what kind.” 

“A spell?” Bogmist frowned. “That’s not- Spells aren’t-” She shut her mouth, frustrated. 

“StarClan can do amazing things,” said Dawnbird. “Maybe there are other ways to perform miracles.” 

“It’s got to be Dark Forest magic,” said Orangestar, “right? I mean that was where Razor died, that can’t be a coincidence.” 

“Razor wouldn’t go to the Dark Forest, though,” frowned Sparrowsway. “He was a kittypet.”

“Maybe it’s just related to death?” Dawnbird suggested, but she didn’t sound sure. 

“Are you okay?” Fogstalker asked Pantherhaze again. He’d been quieter than usual, his head ducked and his heart hammering against her side. 

“I feel… gross,” he said lamely. “Every time I open my eyes I see double and its swimming and moving. I think I need to lie down.” 

“We’ll get back to camp as soon as we can,” she assured him. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

“What are we gonna do about the coyotes now?” Dawnbird asked eventually. 

“I don’t know,” said Orangestar. “We don’t know what they’re capable of and even if they didn’t have… powers, fighting them would be risky.” 

“It’s almost Leafbare,” frowned Bogmist. “We’re gonna be short on prey, especially with two coyotes in our territory. And if they have pups in the spring…” 

“Maybe SkyClan will let us fish their rivers again?” Dawnbird said but the other EarthClan warriors shook their heads. 

“No, that was a special circumstance,” said Bogmist. “We’re on our own.” 

“I’ll talk to them,” promised Fogstalker. “And I’ll see if the other mediators have ideas on how to make peace with Hui-che. I- I’m sure we can work something out.” 

Slatepaw still didn’t seem convinced, so he butted his head against hers and purred as loudly as he could. “You’re gonna do amazing, Slatepaw. Just pick a place and hunt until sunfall. You’ve got this.” She closed her eyes and leaned down into his touch and he took a moment to just appreciate how much she had grown. 

When they parted, her jaw was set bravely and she nodded. “Okay. I won’t let you down.”

“You couldn’t if you tried,” he smiled. 

She took a deep, slow breath, and headed up to the top of the hill. After looking around a bit, she turned and padded out of camp towards the east. Pantherhaze gave her a few seconds head start and then slank up onto the ridge after her and followed her stealthily through the grass. 

The sun was already hanging solidly over the forest behind them, cutting long shadows out in front of their paths, and Pantherhaze had to be careful to position himself so that his shadow didn’t give him away to her. It had been a while since he’d run one of these hidden assessments and he’d missed them. He was pretty sure that this style of assessment had been invented largely so the mentor could have fun slinking around. 

It wasn’t long before Slatepaw found her first target, a pair of sparrows foraging where the grass was thin. Pantherhaze took the opportunity to circle around her, moving her out of the path of his shadow. He could barely see her through the grass as she crept slowly closer to her prey. 

He held his breath. 

The wind shifted. 

Slatepaw pounced. In a flutter of wings, the sparrows took flight and she barely managed to hook her claws into the wing of one of the birds, pulling it down where she could give it a killing bite. The catch was clean. When the wind shifted, she didn’t let it get under her fur, she just adjusted course and even managed to catch one. 

Slatepaw didn’t seem satisfied, though. She sighed heavily, then glanced around to try and find him and, unable to do so, cached her prey glumly. 

That was a good catch! he wanted to tell her, You’re doing great! but he had to stay silent. 

They ventured south, southeast, and of the next four attempts Slatepaw made, she caught two of them. He could tell she was having a hard time with the results by the hunch of her shoulders. It took all of his restraint not to run up and comfort her. Three out of five was a great score! He wished it were easier for her to see that. 

Then, as the sun was starting to touch the tops of EarthClan’s trees, a pungent smell wafted over him from behind and he stopped dead to try and locate its source. The smell was familiar yet alien, an animal, certainly, a predator. He glanced at Slatepaw and she had frozen too, mouth open to drink in the scent. Her ears were flat against her head and her whiskers trembled. 

Pantherhaze made a decision. Striding through the grass, he made his way quickly to Slatepaw’s side, giving her a warning chirp as he approached. Despite his warning, she flinched and hopped back before recognizing him. When she did, her shoulders slumped in relief and she glanced out over the grass again.

“What’s that smell?” she asked. 

“I think it’s a coyote,” he said softly. “Your assessment is paused for now. Let’s gather up the prey you caught and head back to camp.”

“Okay,” she said, looking down at the dirt.

“Hey, you’re doing great. We’re just gonna go somewhere safer, okay?” 

“Okay.” She gave him a little smile and they started back through the grass together. 

A sudden rustle in the grass set Slatepaw on edge. “What was that?!” 

“Easy,” urged Pantherhaze, “It’s alright. Probably nothing. A bird, maybe.” Still, they stood frozen for a moment, ears perked, bodies low. A breeze shifted the grass in a gentle murmur around them. Pantherhaze swore he could hear a whisper underneath the sound but he couldn’t tell what it said. 

When no coyote appeared to devour them, he shook his head and nudged Slatepaw to keep walking. 

---

That night, after Slatepaw had finished her assessment with flying colors, Pantherhaze led Branchbark and Floodstrike back out to where they had found the scent of coyotes. Somewhere nearby, Russetfrond was leading his own patrol cautiously through the grass. It was dark, a bank of clouds covering the moon and stars, and the fall wind swept through the grass in hushed waves. 

“Right around here,” he said quietly as they reached the spot. “It’s staler than it was.”

“That’s a good sign, right?” asked Floodstrike. 

“Maybe,” said Branchbark. “It depends on where they went from here.”

“Then let’s find out,” Floodstrike said, stepping forward to follow the scent deeper into the grass. Pantherhaze reared up on his toes to peek over it, hoping his dark pelt would hide him from any predators that might be watching. Unfortunately, his height posed a bit of an issue and he wasn’t able to see much farther than a few fox-lengths.

They continued East for a bit before they discovered a trail of tracks. 

“Two sets,” hummed Branchbark. “That’s more than the last sighting.” 

“Can we take two coyotes?” Floodstrike asked, perking his ears and Pantherhaze was impressed by his caution.

“No, I don’t think so,” he replied. “But we don’t have to take them, we just have to find out where they went and report back.”

Floodstrike nodded seriously. “Got it.”

“They’re moving southwest,” concluded Branchbark, standing up from the tracks. “Let’s move.”

The patrol slipped into the path left behind by the coyotes and padded quietly on until they started to hear yipping up ahead. It was quiet, conversational even, Pantherhaze thought. Carefully, he poked his head up over the grass again and there, several fox-lengths ahead of them, he saw the backs of two coyotes. One seemed to be digging for something, tail up over its bent frame, while the other yipped softly at it. 

“There they are,” he whispered, dropping back down onto all fours. 

“Where?” asked Floodstrike, lifting his head.

“Shh!” hissed Branchbark. 

Ahead of them, the yipping stopped and an eerie voice sing-songed out, “Little friends? Cat friends?” 

“It talks?!” Branchbark swallowed, his pelt bristling. 

“Yeah, Fogpaw said they talk,” whispered Floodstrike. “She also says they do magic?”

“Then maybe we can reason with them,” said Pantherhaze, ignoring the second half of that statement. Carefully, he reared up on his hind legs again and said, “Hello?” 

The coyotes had both turned towards them and the one that had been digging was smiling at him with its long, toothy maw. “Hey-lo, cat friends! Good hunt-ing?”

“Um, yes,” he said, swallowing his nerves. “What are you doing here? Uh- If I might ask?”

The second coyote yipped something quietly to the other but it ignored him. “Den find-ing!” it chirped happily and Pantherhaze’s spine prickled. “Is good digg-ing place.” 

“Den finding?” Branchbark hissed under his breath. “That’s not good.” Floodstrike shifted his stance into something a touch more battle ready. 

“Oh, dear,” said Pantherhaze, still perched on his haunches, “I’m afraid this is our territory. You can’t build a den here.” 

The coyote’s eyes narrowed, its smile fading, and the other one yipped something again. It turned its head and yipped something back to him and he bared his teeth. The other coyote quickly shook its head.

“No,” it said, “no fight-ing!” Then it seemed to repeat itself in its native tongue. Pantherhaze was shocked. A peaceful coyote! Who’d have thought! The second coyote shifted his stance a bit, glaring warily at the cats, but didn’t leap to bite just yet. 

Relieved, the first coyote turned back to smile at Pantherhaze. “We not cause-ing trouble! We just nest make-ing.” 

“Yes, but this is our hunting ground,” he said firmly, “We can’t share prey with you, I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry,” Floodstrike scoffed under his breath. Pantherhaze twitched his tail but kept his smile in place. The coyote that had been speaking hissed in clear displeasure and its tail angled up towards the sky slightly. The patrol held its breath, tensing for combat, but the beast eventually took a deep breath and forced its fur to lie flat.

“Oh-kaye,” it said with a smile, “We keep find-ing.” It turned to head deeper into the territory and Pantherhaze raised his tail in alarm.

“Uh- you’ll have to go at least a few days’ travel that way if you want to find unoccupied territory.” 

“Few days?” repeated the coyote questioningly. 

“Yes,” nodded Pantherhaze, “Uh, a few suns, maybe?”

The coyote muttered something in its own language and then let out a harsh, scratchy sound as it ducked its head sharply. The other coyote yipped at it and they exchanged words for a short time -- Stars, it was so weird to think of coyotes exchanging words -- before the one that was speaking smiled again, this time with a strained tightness to the expression. 

“Oh-kaye, we go few days. We good friends, cat friends.” 

Pantherhaze couldn’t help but feel squeamish at the expression. There were far too many teeth involved. He nodded tensely and tried to offer a smile of his own. The patrol beside him shifted uneasily. There was another long beat where the two groups stared each other down before the coyotes turned and loped deeper into the territory, heading west. 

Once they had gone, Pantherhaze let out a sigh of relief and all the muscles in his body fell slack. “Phew! That was so stressful."

“I do not like those things at all,” Floodstrike shook his head. “The way they talk is just… creepy.” He shuddered and flicked his tail as if to toss the unsettling feeling off of himself. 

“We should warn EarthClan,” said Branchbark. “Just in case.”

“What a terrible way to die,” he said, voicing her thoughts. 

“No kidding.” She swallowed, eyes drifting back upward. “I think that was harder to watch than Razor’s death. The way he was screaming…” She shuddered and let out a slow breath between her teeth. 

Russetfrond leaned in to press his bloodied flank against hers. “But we did it. It’s over now.”

“I guess it is,” she said in disbelief. “Thank StarClan. I’m so sick of war.” She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder and he grunted which meant he agreed but didn’t want to say so. 

“Well fought,” Rudy’s voice pulled her back to attention as he approached. “I have to admit, it was a lot easier with you lot around.”

“We were happy to uphold our end of the agreement,” she said, subtly reminding him of his own half. “Now the city is free from tyranny and our peoples can be at peace.”

“Mm,” Rudy seemed unimpressed but didn’t disagree. “We’re going to go back and spread the news. You wanna come?” 

“I’m honored,” she said, “but I think we’ll have to pass. The paths of your city are still strange and confusing to us.” 

Rudy laughed and said, “Right. Well, we’ll see you, then. Don’t get any ideas about encroaching on our territories though, we’re allies, not buddies.”

“Understood,” Goldenstar said seriously. Russetfrond grunted as well. 

With that, Rudy turned and said, “Alright, boys, let’s head out! Take the bodies to be buried but leave Sardine for the Folk.” A rowdy cheer of agreement went up from his supporters and soon they had vacated the barn with their prisoners. 

“We should go too,” said Orangestar, crossing the barn towards her. 

“Agreed,” Goldenstar nodded, raising her tail and her voice, “Let’s head back to the Cornerstones to celebrate before the twolegs can find us.” 

“Here, here!” cheered Snowstar, her fur a streaky pink mess. “Prey is on SkyClan tonight. I’ll send Fernspeckle and Robinswoop to fetch something for everybody.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Orangestar said, eyes wide at the offer. 

“I want to,” Snowstar said. “We fought hard. We deserve a fitting celebration.” There were several cheers among the crowd. Goldenstar swallowed, unable to fully agree with Sardine still hanging above her like an omen of death. She turned and headed for the door with Orangestar and Russetfrond close on either side. 

“If it’s alright with y’all,” Wes said, stepping out of the crowd with a polite dip of his head, “I’d love t’join you in the celebration. I could even bring somethin’ as a thank you for the invitation.” His smile was so earnest that Goldenstar couldn’t bear to turn him down. 

“I suppose that’s alright,” she said, glancing at her friends. “We won’t have any interest in kittypet food, though.” Russetfrond grunted in firm agreement. 

“Not food then,” Wes nodded. “I could bring toys? Or catnip perhaps.”

“Catnip?” Orangestar’s brows shot upward. “Like, the herb?!” 

“Yeah,” Wes nodded. “I think my friend Fawn has a patch in her garden. I don’t care much for the stuff but I know lots of cats use it when they’re lookin’ for a good time.” 

“Recreationally?” Goldenstar stared in confusion. “You don’t need it for coughs?” 

“For coughs?” Wes frowned, seemingly daunted by their reactions. “Nah, we’ve got our Folk for that. ‘Sides, there’s plenty to go around.” 

Goldenstar couldn’t believe her ears. “Um, yeah, sure,” she laughed. “Why not?” Russetfrond scowled but didn’t protest. 

“Great,” Wes smiled in relief. “Is it alright if I invite Fawn as well? I’d hate t’take her catnip and run.”

“Yeah, of course,” nodded Goldenstar. “If she’s a friend of yours, she’s a friend of mine.” 

“Sounds good,” said Wes with a polite little dip of his head to each of them. “Where’s this ‘Cornerstones’ at?” Goldenstar paused, unsure how to explain, but Songdust inserted herself into the conversation and came to her rescue. 

“I’ll show him the way,” she said. 

“Thanks,” nodded Goldenstar. “Stay safe.”

“Will do,” said Songdust. 

“I’ll make sure nothin’ happens to her, Miss Goldenstar,” Wes said seriously. 

Goldenstar laughed and shared an amused glance with Orangestar. “I know. We’ll see you there.” Songdust nodded and flicked her tail against Wes’s leg and together they headed off towards the city. 

Russetfrond growled uneasily. “I don’t like it. We shouldn’t be showing kittypets to the Cornerstones.”

“It’ll be fine,” Goldenstar said, bumping reassuringly against him. “And besides, if there really is enough catmint to go around, we can keep some for our herb stores. Just imagine! Fully stocked catmint for leafbare!”

“Maybe we can trade for some every leafbare!” Orangestar purred in excitement. “Think of how many lives we could save!” 

Russetfrond grumbled in reluctant agreement. “I guess this Wes cat seems trustworthy enough.”

“He is,” Goldenstar nodded. Then, knowing a task would put him more at ease, she said, “Could you make sure everyone gets to Cornerstones safely? I don’t want anyone getting left behind.” 

“‘Course,” he grunted with a serious nod.

“Thanks,” she purred, butting up against his shoulder. “I’m gonna stop at camp and meet you all at the Cornerstones.” 

“Sounds good,” Orangestar nodded. “StarClan light your path!” 

“You too,” grinned Goldenstar and then she took off trotting through the grass towards home. The chilly night seemed lighter than before, the wind gentler. As she neared the camp, she ran into Barleybee and Sparrowsway who were strolling home with tails intertwined. 

She kicked up her pace to close the distance with them and called out, “You two not going to the festivities?” 

Barleybee smiled with embarrassment as they both turned to face her, saying, “Not tonight. It honestly just sounds tiring.” 

“As long as you’re sure,” Goldenstar said, looking them over. Barleybee was missing several of her cardinal feathers and Sparrowsway had a slight limp on his left side but neither one was particularly injured, which was a relief. Her mind made a few quick jumps from that thought to the next and she added, “How’s Floodstrike doing?” 

The siblings exchanged a worried glance. 

“I’m not sure,” said Sparrowsway grimly. “He’s still all worked up.”

“I told him revenge wouldn’t make him feel any better,” Barleybee sighed, her frown deepening. 

“Yeah, but you know he doesn’t listen,” said Sparrowsway. Barleybee chewed her lip, gaze drifting into the middle distance. 

“I’ll have to check in with him,” hummed Goldenstar. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course, Goldenstar,” Sparrowsway said with a slight smile. “Have fun at the Cornerstones tonight.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” she said, realizing they didn’t know the news. “Wes says he’s going to bring enough catmint for everyone to use some.”

“What?” Sparrowsway’s brow furrowed at the absurdity of the statement. “Like, just for fun?” 

“Mhm,” she grinned. “Apparently the kittypets are practically swimming in the stuff.”

“Weird,” Barleybee laughed, rolling her shoulders as if an uncomfortable prickle had run down her spine. “Kittypets are so strange.” 

At this point, they had reached the crest of the hill and descended into camp together. Pantherhaze, Oddstripe, and Alderrtail sat together in the entrance to the nursery, sharing tongues while Slatepaw and the kittens slept within. When Oddstripe spotted them, he perked his ears and leapt up to meet them, eyes wide. 

“Is everyone alright?” he asked, looking his kits up and down. “Do they need me at the barn?” 

“Everyone’s fine,” Goldenstar assured him. “No casualties and only one serious injury in EarthClan. We’re going to the Cornerstones to celebrate if you’d like to come.”

“The kittypets are bringing a bunch of catmint,” Barleybee whispered in amazement. 

“They are?” Just behind Oddstripe, Aldertail brightened. “Just for anybody to use?”

“Apparently,” Goldenstar laughed. 

“Oh, that’s amazing!” Oddstripe gasped. “Will there be any left over? I’d love to have some for the herb stores!” 

“We’ll have to see,” shrugged Goldenstar. 

Aldertail shuffled her paws and asked, “Um, would it be okay if I came to the Cornerstones?” 

“Of course,” Goldenstar nodded. “Everyone is welcome.”

“Okay,” she sighed in relief. “I just didn’t know since I wasn’t at the battle or anything.” 

“We’ll go together,” Oddstripe smiled and she blushed profusely. 

Across camp, Scorchplume emerged from Goldenstar’s den -- from their den -- and padded quickly to meet them. 

“How did it go?” she asked with bated breath. 

“Perfectly,” Goldenstar smiled, pressing a few licks to the crown of her beloved's head. “Sardine is dead and we didn’t lose a single cat. We’re going to the Cornerstones to celebrate and the kittypets are bringing catmint for everyone.” 

“Really?” Ospreymask popped out of the warrior’s den with a bright smile on her face. “Is everybody going?”

“Seems like it,” Goldenstar said. “You’re welcome to come.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” purred the queen. “You coming, Pantherhaze?” 

He shook his head, still sitting near the nursery. “I think I’ll stay with Slatepaw. Catmint doesn’t really affect me anyways.”

“Oh yeah,” Goldenstar frowned, remembering the time they had gone herb gathering as apprentices and everyone but him had been sent home for getting too carried away. “Well, let me know if you guys need anything here, okay?”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Barleybee smiled. “You guys go have fun.”

“You’re not coming?” Oddstripe asked. 

“We’re too tired,” Sparrowsway said. “I’m sure Floodstrike will be there though.” 

Scorchplume pressed close against Goldenstar’s side and said, “We should start going if we want to get there before the catnip runs out.”

“Oh, yeah?” chuckled Goldenstar, twining her tail with Scorch’s. “I didn’t take you for the type.”

“Well, it seems you don’t know everything about me,” smirked Scorch. “I used to be quite the party girl.” Goldenstar couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement in her belly at the thought. 

“Ooh,” she purred, “I think I’d like to see that.”

“Let’s grab the rest and go back,” he said, butting his head against her shoulder which he could do now that she was almost taller than he was. They collected a few more rodents from their cache and returned to camp as the morning sun started to peek over the mountains. 

“Nice catch!” Barleybee congratulated as they passed her and Aldertail on their way out. 

“She caught it herself,” Pantherhaze boasted for her. Slatepaw blushed at the look of amazement on Aldertail’s face. 

“Wow,” she breathed. “I could never do that. That’s amazing.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” Barleybee said, touching her nose to Aldertail’s ear. To Slatepaw, she added, “I bet you Ospreymask would really appreciate that right now.”

“Her specifically?” Pantherhaze tilted his head in confusion. 

“You’ll understand in a bit,” laughed Barleybee. “She’s been telling everybody.” 

Slatepaw’s stomach fluttered in excitement. Could it be what she was thinking it was? She and Pantherhaze said goodbye to Barleybee and Aldertail and she began her search for Ospreymask. 

It wasn’t hard to find her. 

She sat outside the Healers’ den with Oddstripe and Songdust, saying loudly, “I don’t think I’ll be moving my nest quite yet. Might as well give the boys a bit more time to themselves.” 

“Osprehmahsk!” Slatepaw called around her catch and she bounded over. 

“Slatepaw!” Ospreymask beamed and lifted her tail in greeting. 

Slatepaw dropped the rabbit at her feet and asked, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?!” She felt like her paws were full of bees the way they were vibrating. 

“Depends,” smirked Ospreymask, starting out slow but increasing in speed and volume as she neared the end of her sentence, “do you think I’m saying that I’m going to have kits?!” 

“Yes!” squealed Slatepaw, ecstatic.

“Then I am!” Ospreymask cheered in kind, rubbing her head all down Slatepaw’s side and looping around to lean against her other side. “I’m gonna be a mama!” 

“That’s so exciting!” Slatepaw felt on the verge of happy tears. “Who with?” 

“You’ll just have to guess, won’t you,” Ospreymask laughed. 

“Lots of queens don’t feel the need to tell people who the sire is,” Songdust explained. “I know that hasn’t really been your experience but it was a lot more common when I was your age.” 

“Oh, okay,” said Slatepaw, a bit confused. She didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to shout your mate’s name from the mountain tops but she supposed everyone was different. Fogpaw would probably think she was stupid for feeling that way, for one. 

She brushed the thought away with a twitch of her tail and said, “Here, you should have the rabbit I caught! You need to eat up to help the kits grow, right?” 

“That’s right,” winked Ospreymask and Oddstripe nodded in agreement. 

“Congratulations,” Pantherhaze said more calmly, butting heads with Ospreymask. 

“Thanks, buddy,” she purred. “I’m absolutely thrilled.”

“It’s a shame on the timing though,” he said. “You’ll have to miss out on mentoring Yellowkit and Bluekit.” 

Ospreymask’s face fell suddenly. “Aw, man! I didn’t even think about that!” She plopped down into a pouty loaf and pulled the rabbit closer, sourly starting on her meal. Slatepaw giggled and Oddstripe laid his tail over Ospreymask’s shoulder. 

“There will be more chances in the future, I’m sure,” he said. 

“I know,” sighed Ospreymask. “I guess waiting a moon or two to recover is better than having to wait six moons to have kits or having to stop training halfway through.” 

“Yeah, exactly,” agreed Pantherhaze. “StarClan knows when to send us our blessings. I’m sure the timing will feel perfect when you look back on everything.”

“Slatepaw, guess what?!” Fogpaw’s voice called and Slatepaw turned around to see her sister loping in from the southern edge of camp. 

“Ospreymask is having kits? I know!” she squealed, bounding over to meet her sister. “It’s so exciting, I can’t wait!”

“She is?” Fogpaw gaped. “Wow, that’s awesome!”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Slatepaw blinked. “What was your ‘guess what’ then?” 

“Ghost is on his way!” grinned Fogpaw.

“Really?” Slatepaw lit up before confusion made her frown again. “Wait, I thought you hated him.” 

“I don’t hate him anymore,” Fogpaw rolled her eyes as if that had been common knowledge. “But yeah, he’s coming to talk to Goldenstar about battle plans! Isn’t that great?” 

Slatepaw felt her insides shrivel up in fear. “I guess,” she lied. That meant there was going to be a fight. That meant people were going to die. She didn’t want people to die! 

“I hope we get to go!” Fogpaw chattered, tail curling back and forth. “I barely got to fight in the last battle.” Slatepaw swallowed. The last battle had killed Lakepaw and Sagetooth. She looked around the clearing at the smiling faces of her Clanmates and wondered who of them wouldn’t make it. She felt like she was going to cry. 

“Hey,” Fogpaw frowned, “are you okay? You look sad.” 

Slatepaw was surprised her sister had noticed, although she was pretty terrible at hiding her emotions to be fair. “Um, I’m just nervous,” she said. 

“Of what?” Fogpaw wound her tail with Slatepaw’s.

“I- I don’t know,” she balked. Suddenly she was struggling to put her words together. “That people will die?” Was that so unreasonable?

Fogpaw hummed thoughtfully and said, “I’m sure it’ll be okay, Slatepaw. This time we’re gonna be prepared so it’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” she relented, not wanting to make a fight out of it. 

“Slatepaw!” called the friendly voice of Jagg from the top of the hill. Beside her was Ghost, wearing an uneasy half smile that made her heart soar in hope. Scorchplume followed up behind them, tail twitching, and headed down into Goldenstar’s den without a word. Fogpaw smiled at Slatepaw and then started over to meet them so she followed. 

Ghost cleared his throat and said, “Hey, kiddo.” 

“Hi dad, hi Jagg,” she responded shyly. “How are you?”

“Pretty good,” said Jagg with a friendly arch to her tail. “How’s your training coming?”

“Good,” smiled Slatepaw. “I caught a rabbit today.”

“Wow! A whole rabbit? That’s amazing,” said Jagg brightly. Slatepaw blushed under her praise and leaned closer to Fogpaw. 

“She’s ready for you,” Scorchplume called from across the camp, and Ghost’s ear stumps twitched in her direction. 

“Well, looks like we’ve got to go,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“Will you share tongues with us after your meeting?” Slatepaw asked as loudly as she could muster. 

“We’ll have to see,” he said, not looking at her. 

“It depends on how long the meeting takes,” added Jagg. “We’ll come say goodbye at the very least.”

“Okay,” Slatepaw nodded meekly. With that, the two adults joined Scorchplume at the entrance to Goldenstar’s den and slank inside. Scorchplume scowled in Slatepaw and Fogpaw’s direction before following them with a twitching tail tip. 

Slatepaw pursed her lips angrily. “Why is she so mean?”

“Who, Jagg?” Fogpaw asked incredulously. “She’s super nice, what are you talking about?” 

“Not Jagg,” Slatepaw’s ears pressed back in frustration at her sister’s density, “Scorchplume! She’s such a bully!”

“No she’s not!” Fogpaw puffed up furiously which made Slatepaw flinch. “She’s just doing her best! Being nice is hard for her!”

“Hah!” crowed Slatepaw in victory. “So you admit that she’s mean!”

“Nuh-uh!” bristled Fogpaw. “I said being nice is hard for her, that’s not the same!”

“How is it not the same? That’s stupid!” 

“You’re stupid!” Fogpaw snapped. “I mean- no, I didn’t mean that.”

“Then why did you say it?” Slatepaw said, starting to tear up but determined to stay strong. 

“Because I’m angry,” Fogpaw said. “Look, I-” She took a deep breath and pushed it out sternly through her nose. “I’m sorry, okay? I just care a lot about Scorchplume. She’s really nice to me. I wish you would try and get to know her like I do.” 

Slatepaw swished her tail defensively around her paws. “What if she’s nice to you ‘cause she’s a liar?” 

“What would she get from lying to me? What does that do for her?” 

“Maybe she gets a cat who will swear she’s good and kind,” accused Slatepaw. The idea solidified in her head as she said it and it scared her. “Maybe she’s using you to trick everyone into trusting her so she can take over the Clan!”

“Slatepaw, that’s crazy, you sound like FallenClan,” Fogpaw rolled her eyes. 

“I’m not crazy!” Slatepaw sat up straight. “I’m not.” With that, she turned and stormed off. 

“Slatepaw, wait, come back!” Fogpaw said, chasing after her.

Luckily, Pantherhaze swooped in between them and said, “Why don’t you let her get some space, okay, Fogpaw?” Slatepaw paused to look over her shoulder. She kept a scowl on her face but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to scare Fogpaw off or make her stay. 

Fogpaw swallowed, looked at her, and then nodded. “Okay. Sorry, Slatepaw. I’ll give you space.”

“Good,” she huffed and twitched an ear. Fogpaw stepped away and went to sit near the leader’s den. Slatepaw decided to go into the apprentices’ den and lay down in her nest. 

After a moment, Pantherhaze poked his head inside. “Hey, do you need anything, Slatepaw?” 

“I don’t know,” she mumbled sullenly into the moss. 

“Okay,” he said. “If you can think of anything just tell me, okay? I’m here for you.”

“I know,” she sniffled. “Thanks, Pantherhaze.”

Beside her, Fogpaw was going on about something or other and had been for the last several minutes. Slatepaw tried to listen but heard the words “for the spell to work” and tuned out again. As much as she loved her sister, she didn’t understand how she believed in spells and things and expressing that opinion never went anywhere good so she tended to keep her mouth shut about it. 

Pantherhaze, on the other hand, was nodding along and smiling kindly. Slatepaw smiled too, fondly appreciating her amazing and compassionate mentor. He simply was the best -- not like Scorchplume who still made Slatepaw’s fur prickle with unease when they were too close to each other. There was something wrong with her, especially if Fogpaw’s ramblings on “speechcraft” were anything to go by. 

Not to mention the way she treated Ghost. The worst of it was that Scorchplume’s hatred for him had rubbed off on Fogpaw somehow. It would have been enough to glare at him all the time and turn her nose up when he walked by but turning his own daughter against him and pushing their family even further apart? It made Slatepaw want to scream. 

Slatepaw sighed heavily and let her gaze wander through the dry, prickly grass and over the fresh pawprints in the mud from last night’s sudden rainstorm and- 

“Wait,” she said aloud, scrunching up her nose as the realization hit her. “Look at these tracks.” 

“What is it?” Pantherhaze asked as he stepped closer. 

“These tracks are coming from the city, aren’t they?” she asked. 

Fogpaw leaned in and opened her mouth to drink in the scent of the steps, wrinkling her nose and declaring, “Ugh! They smell like onions!” 

“They must have disguised their scents,” Scorchplume hummed darkly, squinting at the path. “It could be a war party.” 

“There’s only three of them,” Slatepaw said. Scorchplume cocked a brow but said nothing. Instead, she glanced at Pantherhaze who nodded and Slatepaw puffed up in pride.

“If it’s a war party, it's a small one,” he said. “They’re probably hunters.” 

“I thought Ghost was supposed to stop the rogues from hunting in our territory,” Fogpaw scowled. 

“He’s not all powerful, Fogpaw,” said Scorchplume, somehow defending him and putting him down in the same breath -- typical Scorchplume. 

“We should try and catch them,” Slatepaw said, boldly lifting her chin. 

“Yeah,” Fogpaw agreed. 

Scorchplume frowned. “I think you two should probably run back to camp for reinforcements.” 

“I think it should be fine,” Pantherhaze countered. “They’re about ten moons old now, they can handle a fight where the enemy is outnumbered.” 

“Yeah!” Fogpaw said again. “We’ve got this, Scorchplume. Come on!” 

“Alright,” sighed the ginger warrior. “Just be careful.” 

“We will,” Slatepaw nodded. Like Pantherhaze said, they could handle this. 

“This way,” Pantherhaze said, starting after the tracks. “They can’t be too far. Stay low and quiet and follow my lead.” Both apprentices nodded and the patrol slank into the grass. 

Slatepaw’s entire body was rigid with adrenaline as they stalked through the field, paws falling directly into step with the tracks they were following. She went over the maneuvers Pantherhaze and Floodstrike had taught her over and over in her head as they went, praying to StarClan that she was ready for her first real fight. 

The night was dark and full of crickets but, soon enough, she could hear voices laughing nearby -- voices she didn’t recognize. Pantherhaze lifted the tip of his tail to stop them and they all stilled, swiveling their ears to try and pinpoint the location of the sounds. 

“I’m serious, he’s cute!” a high, feminine voice laughed. 

Another voice, lower but still feminine, replied, “You’re nuts, Minnie. Bandit’s a solid four.” 

“You just don’t know him like I do,” said the first voice - Minnie. “He’s cute, I’m telling you.” 

“Let her have him, Tink,” said a third, more brash feminine voice. “It’s her life.” 

“Are you looking at anybody new?” said the second voice - Tink. 

“No.” The third voice said with finality, bringing the whole mood down.

Pantherhaze’s hind quarters started to wiggle where he had bunched them underneath him and Slatepaw moved to copy him. There was a beat of silence that hung tensely in the air, like the moment before a lightning strike, and then the patrol shot forward and collided with the hunting party who hissed and bristled right before impact. 

Slatepaw struck out at a creamy tabby she-cat in a bright green collar. The kittypet jumped up on her toes and batted harshly back at her but before she could overwhelm Slatepaw, Fogpaw was leaping up to kick her side, sending her staggering. Pantherhaze was wrestling with a brown and white tabby while Scorchplume hissed at another brown tabby with dark stripes who was snarling at her uneasily. After another swipe or two, Pantherhaze’s opponent pulled back and the two groups squared off. 

“Scorch, you bitch,” sneered the cat Pantherhaze had been fighting. “I’ll tear your face off.” 

“We’ve got you outnumbered, Bella,” Scorchplume spat back in a very similar tone. “Go home or else.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Bella reared up into an arch. “I’m the Speaker now. I’ll go wherever I damn well please!” 

“Oh, really?” Scorch huffed a laugh, “Then why does everyone still report to Sardine?” Bella did not seem to like that, tail snapping side to side. 

“Leave our territory,” Pantherhaze interjected before the verbal sparring could resume. “You have until the count of three. One…”

“Shut up, dog face!” Bella hissed at him. 

“Two…” Pantherhaze continued, undaunted. Slatepaw tensed into her battle crouch, wishing she felt as calm as he seemed. 

“Are we fighting them?” asked Minnie, the brown tabby opposite Scorchplume, her eyes darting sideways towards Bella. She and the other cat, Tink, seemed uneasy but their stances were solid enough. They weren’t the kind of kittypets Slatepaw had imagined. 

Bella grit her teeth, glancing over the Clan cats. Her eyes snagged on Fogpaw and Slatepaw curled her lips and stepped forward to block her view.

“Three…” Pantherhaze said, his tone a final warning. 

“Fine!” Bella snapped, tail lashing. “I’ll be back, though. You’ll all suffer for what you’ve done.” 

“Make threats when you can back them up,” Scorchplume growled. “Right now, you’re leaving.” 

Pantherhaze stepped towards Slatepaw in order to make room for the kittypets to pass him. After a tense, fur-prickling moment, Bella growled and stomped through the opening and the others followed her. The patrol shifted to keep eyes on them as they went. 

“Don’t try looping back around,” Pantherhaze called after her. “We’ll be watching the border all night.” Bella growled lowly but kept walking. Slatepaw sighed in relief and let the tightness in her shoulders dissolve a bit. 

“That was easier than I thought it would be,” Pantherhaze admitted softly. 

“Yeah, we barely did any fighting,” Slatepaw pouted. 

“Be glad for that,” said Scorchplume. “Never solve problems with claws when you could solve them with words.” Fogpaw nodded obediently and Slatepaw’s pelt prickled. 

“But that’s what warriors do,” she said, “we fight to defend our Clan.” 

“Only when we have to,” Pantherhaze soothed. “That’s why we have mediators -- to prevent fighting when possible.” 

“Yeah,” Fogpaw chimed in, “Don’t you remember what mama said?” 

Slatepaw bristled, her cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Yes!” she frowned deeper, “I’m just saying…” She didn’t know what she was just saying but she didn’t like the insinuation that she had forgotten her mother’s teachings. 

Pantherhaze brushed his tail over her back reassuringly. “Why don’t you two run back to camp and tell someone what happened and to send another patrol to watch the border. Scorchplume and I will finish up the patrol and meet you there.” 

“Okay,” Slatepaw wilted. 

“You did great, Slatepaw,” Pantherhaze said, leaning in to lower his voice. “I’m really proud of you for spotting those tracks and being able to interpret them so well.” 

“Yeah?” she looked up at him through her lashes, feeling small. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. “You’re going to be a great warrior.” She smiled tentatively back. “Now go on and rest for the night. You’ve earned it.” 

“Okay,” she nodded and turned to follow Fogpaw who had been waiting for her. They walked in silence for a few moments but eventually, Fogpaw spoke. 

“Hey, did I hurt your feelings?” she asked. 

“No,” Slatepaw said defensively, then softly, “A little.”

“I’m sorry,” Fogpaw said. “I didn’t mean to.” Slatepaw looked over at her sister and hated how little she could read in her flat expression. Sometimes she wondered if Fogpaw meant anything she said or if she’d just learned how to say the right things from Scorchplume. She chided herself at the thought. Of course Fogpaw was sorry! What a terrible thing to think about her own sister. 

“It’s okay,” Slatepaw forced herself to smile. “I understand.” 

Fogpaw smiled brightly and twined her tail with Slatepaw’s. “Come on, let’s go back to camp so we can eat something! I’m starved.” 

Last week, he had asked Goldenstar if he could mentor Lakekit. She had been hesitant at first, given his age, but had eventually agreed because of the bond he already had with the kit. He still couldn’t believe that had worked. Once again, he was reminded that he had the best mentor in the world. 

The ceremony was today, at sunset, Goldenstar had said, but Floodstrike couldn’t wait. His mind raced over possible things to do with his apprentice once the ceremony was over. What would she want her first lesson to be? He knew she enjoyed trips to the river to swim but would she want to do that now or would she rather have a tour of the territory? Would she prefer battle lessons or hunting practice? He didn’t know. As much as he was confident he could handle Lakekit, he was having second thoughts on whether or not he would make a good mentor in general. 

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer,” Oddstripe said. “Just breathe and try to-”

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Stoneperch for a Clan meeting!” Floodstrike jerked towards the sound, ears flipping forward attentively.

“Well there you go,” Oddstripe laughed a little bit. Coming up to stand by his son, he laid his tail over Floodstrike’s shoulders and said, “Come on. Let’s go join the others.” 

“Alright,” Floodstrike nodded. 

The two of them padded out into the clearing where cats were starting to gather. Russetfrond sat near the front of the crowd, Yellowkit and Bluekit tucked against his belly. Sparrowsway and Barleybee were sitting side by side and waved for Floodstrike and Oddstripe to join them. Floodstrike followed his father but his eyes were searching the crowd for Lakekit. He found her sitting off to the side, Slatepaw giving her a last minute groom. She looked nervous, her tail tip twitching, her ears pressed backwards. Floodstrike wanted to comfort her but decided it would take too long. He could comfort her after the ceremony. 

Goldenstar raised her tail and began speaking again. “Today we gather to name a new apprentice! Lakekit, you have expressed your interest in becoming a warrior and today is the first step you will take on that journey. Would you please come to the front of the crowd?”

Lakekit nodded shyly and stepped forward into the center of the crowd. Her tail curled tightly around her back leg as she stared up at Goldenstar. 

“Lakekit,” Goldenstar smiled, “from this day forward, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Lakepaw. Your mentor will be Floodstrike.” At this, Lakepaw whipped around to stare at him, eyes wide. He smiled and started forward through the crowd. 

Off to the side, he heard Ospreymask mumble, “Oh, come on.” 

Goldenstar continued despite the comment. “Floodstrike has proven himself a strong and capable warrior and I have no doubt that he will be able to teach you to do the same.” Floodstrike leaned in to touch noses with Lakepaw and she carefully stretched up to meet him. Even though she was smiling, her nose trembled against his as they touched. 

“It’s alright,” he whispered, “I promise you’ll do great.” She nodded, shyly biting her lower lip. 

“Lakepaw!” Fogpaw started and the whole Clan joined in. “Lakepaw! Lakepaw! Lakepaw!”

“And with that,” Goldenstar said as the chanting faded, “our business is concluded. Thank you all.” She leapt down from the Stoneperch and the force that had been keeping the crowd in an orderly semi-circle disappeared. Cats thronged around them, all offering congratulations, and Lakepaw pressed up against his side to get away from them. 

“Congrats, Lakepaw!” he heard Fogpaw’s voice. “Now we can go on patrols together and stuff!” 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be great!” Slatepaw chimed in. 

“Mhm,” Lakepaw mumbled.

“Hey, congratulations, Floodstrike,” Sparrowsway was saying, “You’re gonna do great.” 

“Uh, thanks-” Floodstrike said dazedly as more voices started to overlap.

“Oh, I’m so proud of you!” Oddstripe purred, butting his head against Floodstrike’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re so grown up!” 

“We should go do something!” Fogpaw was loud in his other ear. “Like, go hunting or see the territory or-”

“Fogpaw,” Scorchplume’s voice cut through the din. “Give her some space.”

“Yeah,” Floodstrike said, emboldened by the statement. “You guys are all great but I think Lakepaw is a little overwhelmed.” 

“Oh,” Fogpaw said, taking three steps back. 

“Sorry, Lakepaw,” mumbled Slatepaw. 

“It’s alright,” Pantherhaze said. “Why don’t we let her and Floodstrike go off together and we can patrol with them later.” He met Floodstrike’s gaze and Floodstrike nodded with a grateful, breathy laugh. 

“Okay,” Slatepaw said, her eyes round and sorrowful. 

Floodstrike took this opportunity to shepherd Lakepaw towards the edge of the clearing. He gave his family a polite nod as he did and they seemed to understand. Lakepaw stayed close against his side until they were out into the grass. 

“Sorry about that,” she said. “It was just really noisy.” 

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed. “You don’t have to be sorry, kiddo.” 

“Okay,” she smiled, letting a mouse-length of distance grow between them. “What are we going to do first?” 

“Whatever you want,” he said. “There’s hunting, battle training, a tour of the territory. It’s totally up to you. We can get to the rest another day.” 

“Wowzers,” she breathed. “Um, what do you want to do?”

“I’m good with anything,” he said. “If you don’t have a preference I think maybe some battle practice? It sounds like Fogpaw wants to be the one to show you the territory.” 

“Yeah, I should save that,” Lakepaw nodded. “Battle training it is! I can’t wait to get all big and strong!” Floodstrike swiped at her ear playfully and she giggled, springing out of his reach. 

“Yeah right, you’re always gonna be a teenie tiny little baby,” he laughed. 

“Nuh uh!” she giggled harder. “I’m already getting big!” 

“Nah, you haven’t grown a mouse-length!” 

“That’s not true!” she squealed and charged at him. Laughing, he let her take him to the ground and wrapped his arms around her neck to roll with her in the grass, chomping playfully on her neck. She only laughed harder and harder and the sound of it made him feel like he was flying. Lakepaw was perfect and he was so, so lucky to be her mentor. 

“This way,” he said eventually, “I know the perfect spot to practice.” 

“Okie doke!” she purred, bouncing after him, and together they headed off to train.