Cowbirdsoar lays in the healer's den, basking in the cool morning air. His- the kits lay against his side. He curls his tail over them.
Last moon, he tried to get them to sleep on their own. He and Madtomtuft cleaned and added moss to the apprentice’s den. But after spending the night in it, they refused to return. No bribery or insistence would change their minds.
Cowbirdsoar knew he could force the issue, but that would do them no good. So, instead he chose to accommodate them. He brought the moss from the apprentice den and added it to his own nest.
That made the comfortable nest the three of them lay in now. He yawns into the empty air and stretches. Rhubarbkit squeaks against him, while Plumekit just curls further in on herself.
He looks down at them, his golden eyes shining. They are mine... Stars it is wrong, but they are my family. He looks at the cave roof and imagines Starclan looking down at him. He imagines the face of his mentor, the one he had made his oath to. He can see her scowling at him. I promise I am still loyal, He says to the visage. I will never take a mate, never have kits. But let me have this selfishness.
The visage stares through him, it says nothing, but a lightness creeps into his heart. He rests his head against his kits.
“Are you up yet?” Madtomtuft calls from the entrance. He narrows his eyes at his niece, making a shushing motion with his tail. She covers her mouth and backs away.
Reluctantly, Cowbirdsoar uncurls himself from his daughters. He licks both of their heads and walks out to meet Madtomtuft.
“Did you need something?” he says quietly.
“I just wanted to offer to go herb hunting with you.” She smiles so earnestly; the rest of darkness drains to his paws.
He nudges his head against hers. “I’ll be ready soon.” He walks back into the cave.
Rhubarbkit is already bothering Brambleclash, while her quieter sister is still asleep, having taken over the whole nest. Brambleclash bats at Rhubarbkit and smiles at him. She mouths ‘I have this’ at him. He mouths his own thanks and slinks back out.
Madtomtuft and Cowbirdsoar climb the rocks and onto the field. They bring themselves to a feverfew patch; the majority of it is already dead. Do we even have enough? If what we have goes bad... she nudged him out of his thoughts.
She motions towards the patch. “How do I harvest the feverfew?”
He swallowed down his fears. “You want to nip them towards the base of the stalk- be careful, the smell can throw off some cats.” He knew she knew. But the words comforted him.
She followed his orders and picked the plants. He joins in, avoiding the dead roots.
His ears twitch, catching a sound on the wind. Pawsteps. He unsheathes his claws. The pawsteps get closer. Madtomtuft tenses next to him, her own claws at the ready.
The pawsteps grow louder until a cat comes into view. A normal, non-infected cat and one Cowbirdsoar recognizes.
He sprints to them without thinking. “Walnutpaw” He calls out. Walnutscreech’s eyes widen in surprise. They run up to greet him.
The last time he saw Walnutpaw, their ears just barely reached his chin. Now, Walnutpaw was just a paw shorter than him. Their short, sandy fur, was tight against their skin, letting Cowbirdsoar see the bones underneath.Their purple eyes, once full of warmth and ambition, had dulled and sunk into his head.
“It’s Walnutscreech now,” They correct.
That made sense. It had been 9 moons. “Oh.” He clears his throat. “Congratulations.” He peaks over their shoulders. It was dangerous for them to be alone, where was Daisypop? Or the other Ivyclan cats?
“It’s just me.” They follow his gaze.
The words hit Cowbirdsoar like a raging badger. Just me.
“Ivyclan is...?”
Walnutscreech shook their head. “No, we just moved further up the hill.”
“We moved to the shore ourselves.” He waves his tail towards where he came from.
“That’s nice...” They reply, staring at the feverfew patch.
Of course, they came for that. And we had already picked so much...
“I think there’s still some.” He offers them. “Though, it may be easier for one clan to share them, rather than two.” Ivyclan has always been proud, but maybe, maybe those left could join Grouseclan.
Walnutscreech paws at the dirt. “I can’t imagine our leader would be keen on that.” They meow, the weight of the words pressing them against the dirt.
“What about just you?”
They recoil. “I can’t. Ivyclan still needs me.” Cowbirdsoar deflates.
“Right, of course.” He paws the dirt. “I’ll get you that feverfew.” He walks back to Madtomtuft, taking some of the plants. He sets it on their paws and steps back. They take it and turn around.
“Thank you.” They mumble around the plants. Cowbirdsoar nods to them. He wants to pull them back, but he knows he cannot. A healer's duty is to their clan... they would only hate him if he tried to remove them from their duty.
Silently, Cowbirdsoar slinks home. Madtomtuft follows him, feverfew in her jaws.
They tell the clan about Walnutscreech and Ivyclan. Brambleclash seems uneasy, Nighthawkflicker is quiet, and the kits... well they spend the meeting playing.
Cowbirdsoar curls in on himself. He paws his leg. “We can decide whether to visit them or not later. But for now, we should all just sleep on it.”
“That’s as good an idea as any.” Brambleclash nuzzles against him. “Mind checking on my sprain before you turn in?”
“Of course.” He helps her to the healer’s den. The kits follow them, worn out from their play.
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A week after the reveal, Cowbirdsoar pulls her aside.
He’s more fidgety than usual as he sits in front of her. “Hey, Nighthawkflicker.” He tries to keep his tone light, but she can feel the nervousness radiating from him.
His nerves were infectious. She tries to shake them off, and keep her tone level. But the words come out sharp. “What do you need?”
He dips his ears back.
She quickly mutters an apology. “How can I help?” She tried, softening her voice.
His ears raise a little, but the tension still lingers. “I need a favor.” He pauses to collect himself. “I have to go gather some more moss and... I was wondering if you could watch the kits?”
Nighthawkflicker blinks, then smiles. The kits had been sort of an open secret for the clan. Not really a secret, but they rarely got to leave the heale’rs den. When he left, normally Brambleclash would watch them. But now... the grey molly purrs a little. He trusts me to watch his kits! Thank you, Starclan.
“Of course, you can count on me.” She dips her head formally.
Cowbirdsoar responds with a similar gesture. He curls his tail around his leg. “I... guess I will be off then.” He turns and heads for the cave entrance.
She could see Brambleclash put her tail on him. She leaned against his ear, probably to soothe him. Then, they left.
Nighthawkflicker takes a deep breath to compose herself. I’m a trusted cat for the healer, for Cowbirdsoar! Focus Nighthawk, you need to calm down, not get more riled up.
She exhales and pushes away her thoughts. She could celebrate later. For now, the kits needed her.
The healer’s den was lively. Rhubarbkit was running around like a startled squirrel.
“What’s going on?” Nighthawkflicker asks in her most authoritative voice.
Rhubarbkit ignores her. She sighs and places her paw in front of the brown kit, stopping her in her path.
“What gives?” The younger molly pouts at her.
“I’m trying to figure out what’s going on.”
“I’m hunting for a beetle!” She looks up and gasps with excitement. “Hold me up, so I can get it!”
I could easily lift her, but what would Cowbirdsoar think? She shook her head. Instead, she sat on her haunches and rose up. She carefully knocks down the beetle, right onto Rhubarbkit.
The kit squeals and carefully grabs it in her mouth. She runs over to her sister, who had buried herself under their nest. “Plumekit!”
The white molly just pushes her face further into the moss. Rhubarbkit, apparently not one to take no, lifts the moss up. Nighthawkflicker opens her mouth to reprimand her.
But Plumekit beats her to it. She swats at her sister, dropping the beetle to the ground. Rhubarbkit lets out a gasp, the beetle’s leg still in her mouth. She gawks at her sleeping sister. Plumekit doesn’t even notice as Rhubarbkit gingerly lifts the beetle and walks out of the den.
Nighthawkflicker glances back at Plumekit, before following Rhubarbkit out. She watches the kit carry the injured beetle right to the cave entrance, pushing it gently out. “Be safe.” She blows on it and it skitters out.
Such a sweet kit. Nighthawkflicker sits down beside her, she places her tail on her back. “I’m sure the beetle will be alright.”
Rhubarbkit paws at the floor. “Just... wish we kept it.”
Ah. The grey molly smiles. “Well, we may not be able to keep that beetle, but I can make a pretty good moss beetle.”
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