Olive, at Riversnow's request, mediated between Owlkit and Barleywave. Why is Owlkit so angry and rude to others? Owlkit confesses during the mediation that she heard that kits die to the woods all the time. If she's gonna die, why should she care about others? She may as well do whatever she wants. Barleywave realizes that Owlkit's life was not as easy as it seemed.
Windfur watches Brackenfreckle care for Nectarkit. Brackenfreckle scolds Blackkit for saying that Nectarkit fell of a rock and that's why she's crying - Blackkit clearly swiped at her, everyone saw it. Windfur suppresses a mrrow of amusement, admiring her compassion - even if the healer tries to hide it from adults.
Redstar was called out by Cloudthunder for lashing out at her Clanmates. She did not appreciate it. She also did not appreciate that she was right and that Cottonpaw shrunk from her mentorship. Cloudthunder was sure to emphasize that she would not allow her daughter to develop a fear of her own Clan leader simply because she couldn't pull her own head out of her rump.
Redstar knew the answer wasn't to seclude herself in the back of her own den. Maybe she could make herself useful, like going to hunt.
Maybe she should feed the woods.
That was her responsibility. Her promise. But they wouldn't take her. No, not with Twolegs running around their territory. The Woodcrawlers would've had a wonderful feast on any unlucky fools still out after dark.
She wondered if that would spare ForestClan.
Her ear twitched as she heard short, quiet padding behind her. She closed her eyes and sighed. Undoubtedly her apprentice again, eager to prove herself after her escapade last month.
"Cottonpaw, I know you feel restless. But I thought I said - " Redstar's words stopped short as she turned around. Instead of her apprentice, her eyes fell on Shadekit - who sat down with a disgruntled look.
"Cottonpaw?" Shadekit repeated, as though offended.
Redstar closed her eyes and swallowed back every instinct in her body to snap at the child for his tone. No. Not at a kit. Never at a kit. She already faltered last moon, with Owlkit. She couldn't break again. Not over a tone.
Her voice was pulled taut. She spoke with deliberation over every word. "...I'm sorry, Shadekit. I thought you were Cottonpaw." She forced herself to heave a deep sigh, then opened her eyes to look at Shadekit. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
Shadekit blinked, then pouted a bit, staring away at a wall. "Yeah. Blackkit, Nectarkit and I were curious about somethin'. We were scared to ask, so we drew straws. They cheated, and now they're making me ask," Shadekit grumbled under his breath.
Redstar felt a thorn prick her heart. Shadekit didn't seem to realize that none of them should feel scared to ask questions.
Or were they afraid to ask you, Redpath?
Redstar closed her eyes. Balled every single retort, excuse, justification and thought-terminating statement that rose in her throat. She balled the memory of corrosive, green eyes piercing her skull.
Then swallowed them down.
"...I can, uh, say you're busy," Shadekit mewed, pawing the ground nervously.
"No, no, it's alright," Redstar practically gasped. Shadekit stared at Redstar skeptically. The leader scrambled to find her perch, steadying her voice. "I am here to answer any questions you have, Shadekit. Especially if it's something that's on your mind."
Shadekit blinked once, scanning Redstar's eyes for deceit. When he decided that there weren't any, he raised his tail and meowed:
“Branchpaw told Owlkit to feed the woods. What does ‘feeding the woods’ mean?”
Redstar's pelt bristled instinctively. She forced her fur to lie flat and took a deep breath, visibly sighing.
“Oh...you heard that. Did your siblings hear that too?”
"Yeah. They were loud," Shadekit replied. "Hopechase says it means dying in a specific way. She said you'd be able to explain it."
Redstar mentally asked StarClan to put a thorn in Hopechase's nest. She pictured her saying that it was for Redstar's own good, and she would be right, and that irritated her.
Redstar sighed, wrapping her tail around her paws. She turned over the concept in her mind, straining to find a way to explain it in a kit-friendly way that didn't outright give them nightmares. She wasn't any good with kits. Why did Hopechase do this to her?
“It's…difficult to explain," she admitted.
"Yeah, Hopechase said that too," Shadekit huffed, scowling.
Redstar remained quiet. In the turbulence of her emotions and stress, a desperate thought rolled in front of her: what would she have wanted to hear as a kit about the woods?
Slowly, with Shadekit's expectant, blue eyes focused on her, she answered. "The...woods have…dangerous predators that live in them. We have badgers, and foxes, and sometimes scarier ones, like cougars and bears. But the most dangerous ones are Deep Root entities. I believe you were taught about them recently?”
"Yeah. They use cam-oooo-flage," Shadekit enunciated the long word. "They look like big branches, and come from the ground. Sometimes they disguise themselves as cats. But they smell really bad, so you know to run away when you smell them."
"That's right," Redstar nodded. She swallowed back the building pressure at the back of her neck. Lesson. This was a history lesson. That's all this was. Her heart steadied at that realization. Yes, this was all just oral history - nothing to be worried about. "But a long time ago, ForestClan didn't know that. The Deep Roots looked a lot like trees, bushes and vines. When a Deep Root creature killed a cat, our ancestors noticed that the Deep Roots would retreat from the forest, and prey was plentiful for a few moons. They were scared, and thought the woods themselves were alive instead, like an animal. And animals need to eat food."
Shadekit's eyes widened, fear and understanding surging through them. His fur bristled on all ends. "Feed the woods," he echoed gravely, the phrase now clicking into place.
Redstar nodded solemnly, her ears folded back. "It's…a very, very cruel turn of phrase. Branchpaw should not have said it, no matter how angry she was at Owlkit."
"B-But," Shadekit protested, standing to his feet. His body still bristled, looking like he held a dozen questions. "You go out to feed the woods all the time! Are the woods alive?"
Redstar's pelt now matched Shadekit's.
"Who said that?" she blurted.
"W-Well, not exactly, like that," Shadekit stammered, shuffling on his feet and staring at the den wall. "B-But we saw you leave camp at night a few times! Cloudthunder said you were getting the roots to leave us alone. B-But if Roots eat cats, and they come back when they're hungry," he shot his fearful gaze back up to the leader. "Redstar…a-are we gonna die?"
“No." Redstar said immediately. Shadekit stumbled slightly, catching himself immediately and looking at her warily. "No. Absolutely not. That is not your burden and not your fate. You will not feed the woods."
"But how?"
Cold, hardened resolve forged in her heart. It stood unmoving, immovable.
This is what she fought for. This is the reason she bloodied her own paws and made herself a villain for half of her life. To have the ability to stop them. To be the walls.
Redstar's blue eyes simmered with intensity. "I will."
"How?"
"By feeding them my lives."
Shadekit's eyes almost jumped out of his head. "That's real?! Windfur wasn't lying?!"
Redstar would've laughed, if she wasn't so stressed. She instead parsed the information she wanted to tell, and began. "A long time ago, ForestClan used to be a very different colony. The leaders were not good cats, and feared the woods. Cats used to be taken away at random - the woods would grow hungry and steal cats and kits whenever it wanted. But no longer." Redstar's tail flicked. Shadekit's fur slowly flattened. "StarClan gifts me with nine lives. The woods…or, rather, the Deep Root entities, actively hunt to feed about…once, or twice a year. Based on that - I have…" Redstar stared at her paws for a moment, mentally counting the lives she had left…
…How…many moons did it take for the woods to feel the hunger again? The buffeted scratch marks in the den walls briefly called to her, beckoning her to scrutinize every vertical line she ruined and scratched out moons ago to erase Lakestar's memory. She rejected it.
Seven. Seven is a good average.
"Somewhere around…fifty moons left worth of food to give to the woods.”
“Woah....that’s OLD!" Shadekit exclaimed. Redstar stifled a mrrow of amusement, and Shadekit's tail twitched. "But...isn't it scary? What about after you, like, die-die?”
“Of course it's scary. But for me, since I've died before, I don't find it as terrifying. My ancestors will guide me to the stars," Redstar said with a soft purr. "But…as for the Clan, Iciclepool is my deputy. She would take over after me, and she shares my beliefs about keeping our Clan safe by using our nine lives. By then, you’d be almost 100 moons old. You'd be as old as Hopechase is now. By then, I hope that Iciclepool has found a good deputy that knows the importance of keeping ForestClan safe, and you’d already be an adult, and know how to defend yourself.”
Awe and relief fell over Shadekit's face. He sat back down and threw his head up, audibly going "Phew!" Redstar failed to hide a smirk, a cloud of relief equally blanketing her shoulders.
“...Redstar? I have another question,” the kitten piped up.
“Yes, Shadekit?”
“Did our mom feed the woods?”
Shadekit asked this with such nonchalance that the nature of the question startled Redstar. Her tail fell limp to the floor, and her heart sank.
…Lying would serve no purpose now. It wasn't as though Blavignad just left them here. She didn't.
“...Yes. I’m sorry, Shadekit. Shiverstep and Brackenfreckle rescued you and your littermates. Your mother was attacked and…I'm sorry," Redstar admitted grimly. "I promise, as a part of ForestClan, I will do everything I can to prevent tragedies from happening again.”
Shadekit seemed oddly unaffected by this new information, shrugging and bouncing back up to his feet. "Okay! Thanks Redstar!"
Redstar watched as Shadekit trotted out of the nursery with his tail held high. She watched as he disappeared from the high rock, and she heard him loudly calling out to his sisters. As the hum of camp returned to her ears, and sunlight beamed over the pine trees, a weight that tried to smother her for the past moon lifted.
No one would have to feed the woods again. That was not on them. She had taken the torch. She has faith that others will see how impactful her choices were, and will continue to carry those choices with them in the future.
As long as history was preserved and their struggles were remembered, they would persist, for the better.
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Riftpaw is Spidershade's #1 defender istg he has no chill, he's fighting with everyone except that emo cat.
left his clan StingClan because?? he basically forced himself into the clan like Procyonjoy. socially awkward Spidershade had no chance against this stubborn child.
I genuinely don't know, the only StingClan interaction I remember was bringing a lost young apprentice back to their territory and that may or may-not have been a tiny Riftpaw still starting out his apprenticeship.
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Morningspot recovers from her heat exhaustion, and Riftpaw recovers from his broken jaw! While Riftpaw has been learning fast the techniques of fighting and hunting during rehabilitation, he's assigned to Morningspot as an apprentice for tradition's sake.
The three outsider kits pester Deerpaw about what she and Cottonpaw saw during their night escapade last moon. Deerpaw lies and says there was nothing interesting. Nectarkit thinks she's not being entirely honest.
Redstar brings Cottonpaw and Tree on a border patrol to identify the path to the crow-footed tree, but gets diverted by Twolegs walking along pedestrian paths with their dogs. Redstar becomes disproportionately angry, upsetting the patrol.
Shiverstep is still struggling with how to talk about Rootgrove with anyone. Cloudthunder notices she's stressed, and brings her out for some fresh air.
Morningspot goes on a patrol with Windfur, and finds that they had more in commons than she thought. Windfur appreciates Morningspot's diligent company by his side.
Riversnow accidentally got tree sap stuck to her fur. Barleywave helps her remove it in the medicine den. The intimate moment finally allows for lowered guards and a serious conversation, and they agree to become mates after a period of courtship, to take it slow and actually get to know each other. This is a massive weight off of both their shoulders. Barleywave no longer feels Afflicted.
OKAY. Okay. FINE. Riversnow had been agonizing over her feelings for moons and it was getting so obvious that her own daughter had asked if she and Barleywave were mates like Iciclepool and Hopechase were, and she just - what on earth was she supposed to say to that? Her daughter's eyes were wide and sweet and earnest, and she felt like a complete imbecile when she stood around with her mouth open. It was only by Tree's sudden appearance and grace did they herd Daffodilkit away to listen to a story with the three outsider kits.
Riversnow groaned as she allowed self-loathing to spin out in her chest. She walked out of camp and pressed her head against the trunk of a pine tree defeatedly. Her ears folded back as she felt a few drops of sap stick to her forehead. She decided to ignore it in favor of keeping her head pressed.
Her churning self hatred then morphed into sadness, and disappointment.
She thought she had moved past this stupid pattern that plagued her life. She really did. Finding a tom that seemed interested in her. Refusing to give in, letting them chase her. Get lulled into a false sense of security, get attached, tom's not interested anymore, or worse, gets TOO interested, shit hits the bear, she gets hurt, the end. Hell, when she first met Barleywave, she figured if she just got it over with then she could save herself the heartbreak.
Yeah, good fucking job, River, you got pregnant, ended up with the worst night of your life, found the sire again, joined a cult, GOT PREGNANT FROM THE SAME GUY AGAIN because you specifically got clingy that one time -
Riversnow hissed as she dragged her claws along the pine tree. Her eyes flew open and she immediately regretted it as the tree's sap got in between her claws and now the sap was getting everywhere -
She removed herself from the tree, getting progressively more aggravated as she felt pine needles sticking on her forehead. She tried licking the sap off her paws, retched when it tasted awful, then threw her head up and yowled in exasperation. She stared up at the sky defeatedly, her anger washing into defeat.
Why did this keep happening to her?
As the clouds shuffled by, she remembered the words of her strict mother as a kit. "Stop padding after toms, you're only going to find trouble." Her mother would hiss that she had been listening to her aunt's romance stories too often and she needed to get out of fantasy land and into dangerous reality.
Her mother was right. And yet she hated that her heart was still that of a young molly's, daydreaming about a tom that would fight away the darkness for her.
She heaved a defeated sigh, angry at herself for falling in love again. She lowered her head back down.
Then leapt three feet vertically and scrambled as Barleywave appeared from thin air. Barleywave shrunk and bristled, his eyes wide, as though Riversnow had conjured from nowhere.
Riversnow reflexively hissed. "What are you - argh, goddamn it - " Riversnow flailed her front paw. Dead pine nettles had clung to her pads. Her face turned hot with embarrassment as she failed to fling off the gunk. "Sorry, um, give me a minute," she stammered as she turned her back from him.
"Uh…"
That was the only sound that came out of a very stunned Barleywave. Riversnow would have told him to buzz off if she wasn't desperately trying to remove the sap from her claws. This kept failing, instead just shifting the sap from one paw to the other. She could feel Barleywave's gaze at the back of her head.
"Do you mind?" Riversnow growled, glaring at him.
He was staring blankly at her paws, as though his mind was elsewhere. Riversnow felt a tinge of confusion, then frustration. She didn't know why she expected him to laugh at her. But she felt maybe that would've been better than whatever leftover haze loomed over him from the moon prior.
After a few seconds of silence, Riversnow just looked away and continued trying to groom, hoping he'd just leave.
"...Don't do that."
She whipped her head at him incredulously. Barleywave's empty gaze abruptly shattered, as though realizing what he just said. He continued hastily. "I-I mean - it's pine sap, right? Tastes bad. It'll give you a stomach ache. Go talk to the healers. Use flax oil."
"Use what?" Riversnow seemed confused.
"Flax oil. It's…uh…we use it in cooking, but it gets rid of tree sap if it gets stuck in your fur," Barleywave explained.
"I am not going to embarrass myself like this to everyone," Riversnow retorted. Oh, dear stars, she begged the forces that be not to be seen like this. It was already bad enough that he saw her like this.
"I mean…it happens to us all the time. One time, my brother - "
Silence.
Riversnow felt like the air had become as thick as the sap on her paws. She fought to stop her fur from bristling. Barleywave's eyes stared past her, as though he realized what he just said and was trying to close the floodgates.
"...Barley?" she finally uttered.
Barleywave blinked a few times. His posture suddenly straightened. "Uh. I mean. Yeah, it just happens all the time. Don't worry about it. Nobody's gonna be judging you for it."
Riversnow felt like Barleywave was practically begging her to not press him on his attempted sentence, which really sucked, because that meant the subject was now on her again, and she would really rather not. She's gonna give him a piece of her mind -
"Look, it's not a big deal, I'm sure I can just wash it out."
Damn it.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
Riversnow froze and stared out into the treeline. She felt her heart both melting and sinking at the same time. She didn't get it. She was so used to being riddled with increasing concern no matter what she said. The fact that Barleywave just asked if she was sure and then let it go was just…foreign to her.
It made her feel safe.
It also made her feel like Barleywave wasn't interested in her, and she hated that feeling.
She barely registered the fact that Barleywave excused himself, turned away and took three steps towards the treeline before hurling a hairball. Riversnow's snout wrinkled in disgust, only to feel weirdly relieved when she didn't see any bile in his hairball. Barleywave straightened, wobbled for a second, then uttered, "Sorry."
"...Are you sure you're not sick?"
"No. I mean…" he stared at the forest floor. "...I'm…I swear I'm not ill, just, uh…stressed out. I guess."
"...Do you need anything?" What was she doing?
"No, I'm good."
"Are you sure?"
Barleywave brought his hazel eyes to hers. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds before Riversnow realized what she just did. She let out an exasperated mrrow of laughter. Barleywave joined her. By the end, both cats stared at each other defeatedly, exhaustion clouding their expressions.
"I haven't slept right in two days," Barleywave groaned.
"And I…well, I've had many things on my mind."
"Enough to get sap on your paws?"
Riversnow pointed one one of her paws at him. "You stop that."
"Right. Sorry."
Riversnow sighed, putting her paw down and resisting the urge to wrap her tail around them. She glanced away, feeling shame.
She didn't want him to feel stressed out anymore than he had to. After a few more moments, she looked up at the dark grey tom.
"...Look. I'll go get this…flax oil, or whatever you call it. As long as you come with me and get something to help you sleep."
Barleywave blinked, surprised. He opened his mouth to say something, then left it hanging open for a few moments before he said, "Uh…I mean…if that'll help you, get, uh…"
Riversnow raised her eyebrow at him, and he meekly stood up and shook the numbness out of him. His whiskers twitched before continuing hastily, "I mean, yup. That sounds like a plan. Let's go."
*******
Riversnow did not want anyone staring at her. No one. She wished she could just get the sap out of her paws in peace. But no. This - this brash child Brackenfreckle had the room-reading of a newt and was not letting her just groom herself.
"Um…listen, Brackenfreckle…" Riversnow mewed.
"Stop fidgeting," Brackenfreckle grumbled as she pressed in between the older molly's toes, brushing flax oil over her claws and in between her pads. Riversnow winced.
"Please stop, you're being rough."
"Look, it's not my fault that you went around scratching the wrong tree. How did you even get tree bark in your claws like this?" the young healer retorted, squeezing out strips of bark that were lodged between them.
Riversnow's face turned hot. She failed to suppress a huff. "That's…that's not…"
Barleywave had been staring at his prescribed poppy seeds in the corner of the den for a few minutes, as though contemplating if he should take it. As he overheard Brackenfreckle and Riversnow's increasing tension, he sighed and tapped his tail lightly. He turned his head to look at them. "Brackenfreckle, she said you were being rough."
Brackenfreckle whipped around and snapped at him. "I'm sorry, did you want to volunteer to remove sap from your mate's paws?"
"We're not mates," Riversnow and Barleywave blurted simultaneously.
Brackenfreckle's eyes narrowed as she glanced between the two cats, who were now staring at the floor and looking sheepish. The black she-cat rolled her eyes, then grabbed a piece of leather and tossed it at Barleywave. The tom reacted too late, the cloth landing on his face. He mrrowed in bewilderment as it fell to the floor, staring at it quizzically.
"Take the cloth, dunk it in the flax oil pot and rub it on the affected areas," Brackenfreckle meowed while gesturing to the clay pot in front of Riversnow. "Make sure to get it in between the paws and claws, if she can't unsheathe her claws without pain then there's still sap somewhere. Rinse the cloth in water if it starts to feel sticky," Brackenfreckle pointed to a clay bowl with water. "Continue until the sap's gone. Don't waste too much time, or the sap will dry and you'll be forced to shave affected areas instead. Holler at me or Windfur or whatever if you're struggling," Brackenfreckle finished decisively before trotting out of the medicine den without another word, the curtain of ferns swaying behind her.
Barleywave blinked repeatedly before grasping that he'd been saddled with the responsibility. He sighed, then picked up the cloth and padded towards Riversnow. She kept staring at the floor as the tom dunked the cloth in the oil pot, then held out his paw for her to present hers. Riversnow's cyan eyes flickered with feeling.
As Riversnow refused to move, Barleywave shuffled. "I can call over Shiverstep if you want instead."
"No…no, it's…fine," Riversnow uttered. She lifted her paw into his. "...I'm sorry for causing you trouble."
Barleywave shrugged. "It's fine. I haven't taken my poppy seeds yet anyway."
Riversnow scowled, still avoiding his gaze. "Barleywave."
"Keep your fur on, I wasn't going to not take them. Ah - hold still," Barleywave meowed as he rubbed the cloth between her digits. Riversnow winced.
"Ah - please hold on, that one's stuck," Riversnow whined.
Barleywave complied, simply pressing the cloth around Riversnow's paw and waiting patiently. Riversnow wriggled her digits as much as she could, until the sap came apart under the oil and Barleywave gently washed away the sap. He worked quietly in the now-vacant medicine den, and Riversnow allowed her nervous mind to settle. She could hear the light gossiping of Iciclepool and Hopechase on a sunning rock somewhere nearby, and the play-fighting between the three outsider kits in the middle of camp. She heard Riftpaw taking instruction from Morningspot, and the crackling of the cooking fire nearby.
The sound of water being splashed and squeezed out of the cloth replaced her senses briefly, before she noticed Barleywave beckoning her other paw. She complied, and let him clean it. She watched him being meticulous and careful, warning her before stretching her digits and waiting patiently as she had to fidget some of them apart. Rinse, repeat.
It was calming.
Riversnow blinked slowly. A strange sadness fell on her shoulders.
"...Daffodilkit asked about the same thing earlier."
"Hm?" Barleywave was placing the cloth in water.
"If we were mates."
Barleywave froze. Droplets of water created ripples in the bowl. He quickly moved back to the oil pot. "Did she?"
Riversnow nodded. Her eyes remained glued to the floor.
Her brief moment of courage was replaced with dread. Barleywave still cleaned the sap, more slowly this time, his eyes distant. Riversnow's jaw tensed. Every second that passed felt like a slowly growing fire burning her fur.
Barleywave must have finally caught how tense her muscles were, stopping and lifting his head up awkwardly. He glanced to the side.
"It…uh…I guess it's normal for her to ask. It's…uh…" his voice tightened. "I guess from all the stories she hears from Shiverstep and Tree and all…yannow. The classics. Tom meets molly, something bad happens, they resolve the problem. They become mates, have kits and live happily ever after, something something," Barleywave started rambling, then let out a nervous laugh. "But that's, uh, silly. Real, um, real life is kinda complicated."
Riversnow felt like ice cracked on her heart. She reflexively let out a nervous laugh, her tail thrashing. "Right. Right. It's, it's complicated. That's right." Her voice trailed off. "Right."
She felt her heart sinking. Of course. Of course it would be like that. Her mother told her so. The stories filled her head with lofty promises that would only bring her disappointment. Why did she keep daring to hope otherwise?
"What did you tell her?" Barleywave asked.
"...What?"
"Daffodilkit's question. What, ah…" Barleywave tensed. His cleaning slowed to a crawl. Riversnow's paw was clean at this point. He was doing it mechanically. "...what did you tell her?"
"Tree noticed my hesitation and pulled her away before I said anything," Riversnow lamented.
"Oh. That's…too bad," Barleywave deflated. He finally let go of Riversnow's paw. She turned it over haphazardly before placing it on the ground and wrapping her tail around herself.
Her brain worked slowly until something strange clicked.
"...Wait. Too bad?" Riversnow echoed.
"What?" Barleywave was holding onto the cloth dumbly.
"Why…why is it too bad?"
Barleywave's eyes flew open and his tail bristled.
Suddenly Riversnow felt like the storm cloud that loomed over her popped out of existence, something else grabbed her, and tossed her into a raging river. And she could not swim. Oh no. Oh no, she wanted this but she also did not at all, oh fuck.
"N-Not, not that it's a problem I - ahaha! Oh no, sorry, I under - I understand, it's too bad that I couldn't say…." Riversnow trailed off as Barleywave's expression became progressively unreadable. She felt her voice stuck in her throat. Barleywave's ears folded.
"Say what?" he squeaked.
She stared dumbly with her mouth open.
"Say what?" Barleywave asked more frantically.
"I DON'T KNOW!" Riversnow finally whined, flattening herself to the ground, her body bristling. "I don't know, okay?! I don't know what to tell her!"
"What do you want to tell her?"
Riversnow stared up at Barleywave's eyes and desperately searched it for some kind of agreement, validation, anything to make her feel like it was okay for her to actually want him. She hated the fact that she stared into those giant, hazel eyes and gazed into a mirror, holding no answers, only an echo of her own terror. She hated how pathetic she really was. She was always so terrified that cats would see right through her coldness and take advantage of it. She hated it. She smothered her feelings for moons. The second he found her on their territory stealing a gopher and he offered to actually help her, she had to choke it. She couldn't trust herself.
She didn't even know him. Oh great nature, she didn't even know what his favorite food was or what made him laugh. She didn't know him. She didn't even know he had a brother until two weeks ago, she didn't know him, she didn't know him and yet she just -
Barleywave's voice echoed. She felt like she was flailing in open water. She couldn't swim. She couldn't breathe.
"River - "
The current was strong. Too strong. She couldn't swim. Couldn't breathe. Help. Help -
She felt her head lifted out of the water.
And straight onto Barleywave's shoulder. She blinked, dazed and confused, feeling the rumble of his voice.
"Calm - calm down, you're okay, you don't…" Barleywave's voice shook. The furs on his face and head bristled and pricked against hers like reeds. "You don't…you don't have to make a decision yet. You don't have to. It's…it's okay. It's fine."
Riversnow felt blood rushing too quickly to her ears. She inhaled deeply. Mentally snapped at herself for wondering how she could be calm giving birth but almost pass out from admitting she had feelings. Then exhaled.
She repeated this process several times, trying to force herself to match Barleywave's breathing. The two cats stood silent for a minute, trying to wind themselves out from the sudden crashout. Eventually, the two sat still, defeated, heads resting on each other's shoulders.
They felt exhausted.
"Sorry," Riversnow rasped.
"Me too," Barelywave mewed.
Riversnow remained quiet as she could still feel his breathing. Finally, she just crawled out of the metaphorical river and let herself be laid bare by the sun. There was no point in denying anything now. He saw it.
"I…I do like you a lot, Barleywave."
There was a pause. Barleywave's voice hitched as he said, "But?"
Riversnow sighed and pressed harder against him. "Calm down. It's not you. It's…" Riversnow closed her eyes. "...I am really bad with feelings."
"Same," Barleywave let out a humourless chuckle.
"But I also just…I get too…too clingy too fast. To toms I barely know. I just…" Her breath shook. "I don't even know what your favorite color is. Do you even know mine?"
Barleywave paused. His body shrunk, his dark pelt flattening. His hazel eyes wavered with realization, then sadness. He seemed defeated. "...I don't even know what your favorite food is. I know Daffodilkit likes roasted mouse. Owlkit prefers squirrel jerky. But…"
"This is what I mean," Riversnow sighed. "I…I wanted to say yes. But is it really honest of me to say that? Can I really say that a good mate is someone who doesn't know what your dreams or…or goals are?" Her tone was flat. She refused to lift her head to look at Barleywave, hoping that if she kept her head buried, that she wouldn't see the look in his eyes.
Barleywave stayed silent for a while. She felt like he got the point. Her heart sank. It…it was for the best -
"I can, uh…court you…instead?"
Riversnow froze. She blinked twice. "...Huh?"
"Not…not knowing what you like is…a problem. Because we're…so very, very bad at talking about ourselves, I think," Barleywave confessed. His tail brushed against the ground timidly. Riversnow winced, but she agreed with that. He pulled away from her, eyes glued to the floor as he continued. "But…uh, if you told the kits that I'm, you know…courting you…like, getting to know you, what you like, and stuff," his voice progressively lowered to a mumble. "Anyway, what I mean is, I, uh…I like you a lot too. I want to say there's more. But you're right that I can't…really say that if I don't…I dunno, get over myself and actually tell you about me. And, uh, I learn about you too. And, you know, maybe we eventually learn what we both want out of a mate. Maybe it doesn't work out - not saying that it won't, like, I really hope it does. But at least then we can be honest when we say that yeah, we are, or no, we really tried, but it just didn't work. So yeah. I'd like to court you. Take it slow, and if it works, then…you know, maybe we can say we're mates." He stammered his thoughts out by the end, but the longer he spoke, the lighter Riversnow felt.
Courting. That…that was an option. It was like darkened skies parted to reveal a path that was there all along, but she never saw. She…she didn't know why.
No tom had truly courted her before. Was that…even a word she heard from anyone else before? She felt a bit numb. A little stupid. Correction, very stupid. But…yes. Oh, nature. The option to test the waters. To see compatibility. That was an option? How did she miss that?
Finally, she swallowed, and said,
"Yes…yes I would like that. Courting sounds…nice. Very nice, actually. Thank you."
Barleywave failed to suppress a purr of relief, pressing his head against hers. Riversnow returned the gesture, feeling light and airy.
The kit-like part of her briefly daydreamed of prancing around in a summer forest with a mysterious dark stranger who invited her to join him, asking where she came from - she rolled her eyes internally and pushed that aside. Barleywave would ask her out on patrols and ask her to hunt with him. It didn't sound lofty on the surface, but maybe it could be. Maybe it was stable - what she needed. And for a minute, she felt at peace, letting herself purr and bask in quiet comfort.
Until she tried to pull away. And realized something.
Her eyes flew open in terror. "Barley?"
"What?"
"There was sap on my forehead."
Barleywave's eyes widened in terror. He tried to pull away, and failed. Both cats froze in horror as they realized what they had just done.
"....Ooooooooh no. Oh, this is bad." Barleywave uttered. "Oh StarClan. Foxdung. Oh, this is not how I wanted to start courting you. Absolute crowfood - "
"Barleywave."
"Look. Listen, I'm going to reach over to bring the flax oil -"
"Barley, no."
"Did you want another cat to come in and help us? Do you really want to explain this?"
"...On second thought…no. Absolutely not. Just…let's just gently shuffle over - OW! Fuck - how did I step on my own tail? Ugh."
(Shiverstep, medicine cat, female, 15 moons. Loving.)
(The Audience. It's you. You're here. You are cut into a thousand atoms and spread across time and space, on static and forces that can never be seen. You converge into this singular locus, this one point in time, to make a difference. You cannot change the world for all of the living. But you can change it for these ones, right now. Please, you cry. I am here. And I love you.)
---
Shiverstep felt her pelt rising. The sensation of bubbling water and falling sand surged through her body, seeping through the hollow space of her mind. The last time this sensation occurred, she felt like a dislocated joint had snapped back into place, settling right. Now, it felt like strong compression - like the pelts of other cats pressing against her own, forcing stability.
Distant whispers filled her again - no language could possibly filter the feelings that surged through her. Her heart thundered - but not with fear. It beat with a hollow echo, reverberating through her whole chest like a drumbeat. It was akin to endless defiance. The stars burning in the endless void of the cosmos. A stalwart buck refusing to flee at the hounding wolves. The promise of life roiling in stray molecules, softly reaching and shaping the building blocks of life, given enough patience; enough time.
The guarantee of life against the winter storm.
Shiverstep inhaled.
Then listened.
The whispers this time were less coherent, more emotional. They waxed and waned, like a fluid melody, interlaced with short bursts. Certain words broke through the fog.
Eyes. Focus. Back.
"What do we do?" Brackenfreckle hissed, her ears pulled back.
Shiverstep swallowed, still focused on Rootgrove's empty eyes. "Eyes…we keep…we focus our eyes on it," Shiverstep stumbled. Once she made the statement, it felt correct and renewed her confidence. "Back…back away. Slowly."
"Like with a predator." The realization dawned coldly on Brackenfreckle as she said this. Shiverstep's dread did not fade. The beings beyond StarClan imbued with her feelings and thoughts that she barely parsed sensibly. But slowly, they aligned. Echoes of intent were made clear, and Shiverstep bristled. Hurt. Blavignad was hurt. There were kits with them. She did not know how old the kits were. Could Tendrils be hunting?
"Camp," Shiverstep blurted. She glanced at Brackenfreckle nervously. "We have to go to camp. All of us."
Brackenfreckle looked at Shiverstep in protest, only to glance forward again and startle, gasping. Shiverstep only took her eyes away for a split moment, but when she looked back, her fur bristled.
A pair of long, branch-like legs had emerged from Rootgrove's cavity.
Nothing else moved. It must've been only for a minute. But it felt stretched into eons. Shiverstep was afraid to blink. She forced herself to take a deep breath as she felt the foreign energies retreat from her legs and tap at her forehead.
Rootgrove did not move.
Instead, his lower jaw quivered, and wrenched a phrase from his body. His voice was distant, and horrible.
"IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH HER TOO?"
He had heard Blavignad.
The air froze around them. The wind that once blew downwind, masking the monster's scent, now stilled. Shiverstep would have retched in any other situation. She kept her eyes on Rootgrove like her life depended on it.
Maybe it did.
Brackenfreckle's voice stammered. "Okay. Okay. Camp. We'll go there. We…we have to," she whispered.
"I'll stare it down," Shiverstep said. She surprised herself with her willingness. It must've surprised Brackenfreckle as well, as she saw her shift from the corner of her eye. Shiverstep still refused to look away from Rootgrove, knowing that he knew they were there now. A horrific feeling. To be known. To be seen.
It took everything in her to not think about what would happen if he followed them to camp.
"Bracken? What is that?" Blavignad squeaked. She was now staring out into the treeline, trying to find what they were seeing.
Brackenfreckle ignored the question. Or perhaps couldn't answer it to begin with. "...Are they all in there?" She sidled closer to the queen. Blavignad nodded. Brackenfreckle resisted losing sight of Rootgrove, repeatedly glancing at Shiverstep and stretching her neck to see the beast.
Shiverstep bristled as disjointed words were picked out in the chaos again.
No. Movement. Protect.
"Brackenfreckle?"
"Y-Yeah?"
"Move…very slowly." Yes. Yes, that made sense. This was a predator. A hunter. With the instincts of one. "Stand your ground. You…you have to focus on protecting the kits. Look forward. Not back. I'll stare at it. Okay?"
"But what about you?"
"I'll...I'll back away. I'll still look at it, but I'll have to back away. Okay?"
Brackenfreckle gritted her teeth, clearly not comfortable with this arrangement, but having no other ideas. She reluctantly nodded, then backed away into the foliage far enough for her mouth to reach the basket handle. Within it, three small kits were huddled together, nesting around the scented herbs with some discomfort. Blavignad limped into the bushes, staring up the hill they planned to go up - towards ForestClan's camp. Something flickered in her eyes before she looked back at Shiverstep.
"Hey," Brackenfreckle hissed from the bushes at Shiverstep. "Hey. Come on."
Shiverstep swallowed as she stared at Rootgrove's black, empty eyes.
She steeled herself as she focused on the feeling of hard rain rapping at her forehead.
Then slowly backed away.
Her paws found stability behind her. She took another step.
And again.
And she kept backing up until she reluctantly broke line of sight with Rootgrove's skull. But she had no choice. She had to stay calm. She had to.
She was going to be okay.
That was a thought made in blind faith. But she had to believe it.
"Keep going," she hissed. She heard Brackenfreckle and Blavignad slowly pad through the ferns, very gently pressing down on the former path. Shiverstep tried to follow as she backed away, but she still snapped a twig and stumbled over a stray stone every now and again. Still, she did not keep her eyes off of where Rootgrove used to be.
Until she saw his shape suddenly bolt over the undergrowth. Shiverstep hissed as she lept back, her back arching and her fur on all ends. Rootgrove froze a few fox-lengths away. His silhouette reflected the shadows of many branching legs against the sunset. She unsheathed her claws, her eyes wide. She snarled her teeth at him.
"S-Shiver!" Brackenfreckle called. The sound of Blavignad stumbling to the ground in horror invaded Shiverstep's ears.
"Don't!" Shiverstep hissed. No, they couldn't look back! The crawling legs of the Woodcrawler dangled pensively in the air. She could see roots shifting like poisoned veins in the woeful desiccated flesh. Her voice trembled in terror. "Keep going. You have to. Please." Rootgrove couldn't have Brackenfreckle or Blavignad in his line of sight. They had to keep moving. They had to. She had to protect them.
The feeling was foreign to her, but she grasped it tightly. She hissed at the towering shadow, swiping her claws at the air in front of her. The posturing felt ludicrous as Rootgrove's jaw trembled again.
"KEEP...GOING."
She heard Brackenfreckle whine, and Blavignad grunt as she stood to her feet. "Come on...come on, hon, we have to move," Blavignad hissed. Shiverstep heard her companions resume their slow, calculated path. Breathe. Breathe. This was a predator, Shiverstep thought. A normal predator. With predator instincts. A fox. A badger. A wolf. A bear. It could be convinced. It could be convinced to leave them alone, if they were willing to fight back.
In his shadow, outlined by the fading sun, she saw the corners of his jaw curve into a horrible grin.
Please.
It had to be. It had to be a predator. An animal. Please.
Something stirred in her core and beat through her again. The feeling of hard rain. The sensation of something metallic against the roof of her mouth. Determination. Love. Shiverstep welcomed its surge. Despite everything, despite staring at death in the face, she felt like others were with her now. Watching. Guiding.
Back still arched, eyes wild with focus, she shuffled backwards again, this time with her side facing him, making herself larger. She heard the sound of panting and the absence of Blavignad's fourth step. Brackenfreckle stuck to the queen's side and whispered for her to lean on her.
Slowly, tensely, the distance between themselves and Rootgrove widened. Shiverstep made certain to navigate the ferns and grasses carefully. She refused to allow even one single leaf block her field of vision. As they grew further and further away, Rootgrove became a red eyesore in the landscape. He was several tree-lengths away. Yet still, as long as she saw him, he did not…
Shiverstep saw a tall tree to her right, threatening to hide him from her. She was so close to the main path. So close. But it wasn't far enough. Somehow, she knew. She had a dreadful feeling that this was not enough.
Her heart raced. "Brackenfreckle?" she meowed. She knew she was likely loud enough for it to hear her. She didn't care. It could mimic her for as long as it wanted, words could not hurt her.
"Shiver?" the young molly called back anxiously. She was further away than she thought. Maybe that was good. Maybe it wasn't.
Shiverstep swallowed. "How…fast can you make it up the ridge?"
The silence was palpable.
"We gonna need to run?" Blavignad asked a little too calmly.
"If I move on the main path...I'll have to break line of sight."
"Does it still want to follow us?" Brackenfreckle asked warily.
Shiverstep remained silent. She realized that she would never have an answer to that. And the sun was almost gone - only leaving a dying flash on the horizon.
Stand your ground. You must protect them.
Your pelt allows you to hide.
Remember what Tree taught you.
These thoughts came to her like lapping waves on a shore. They were brave. They were true. Their sudden clarity brought with them a sense of hope, and resilience. Above all, she wanted to protect those who were hurt.
She thought about Tree, and how they saved her life many moons ago. Their bravery had incapacitated a Woodcrawler for long enough for them to escape. Shiverstep felt her heart swell. She was not a brave cat. She was not a strong one. She didn't know how to fight - not well. She was scared. And yet...
What was…that mantra Redstar told them about again…? Loyalty, bravery…
"Go. Go on ahead."
"...What are you talking about?" Brackenfreckle's voice tightened. Shiverstep couldn't see her, but she could imagine the molly's fur bristling.
"Go up the hill. I'll catch up after you're over it."
"...You're going to start running, then."
"Once you're over the hill, I can try. At least I can hide in a tree."
"But…"
"Please. It's getting dark. You have to," Shiverstep begged.
The sound of protesting kits sounded her reply.
"...She's right, hon. I don't know if I can outrun somethin'," Blavignad meowed. "My kits…I want them to be safe. She's givin' us that chance. Don't waste it."
Brackenfreckle remained quiet for a moment longer, before she nodded, then whispered to Blavignad to hold steady. Shiverstep listened as the sound of crunching leaf litter and mewling kits grew distant. The motionless entity slowly stirred from its position. The skull adorning it shifted. A long neck emerged from its shape, stretching out like a parasitic worm. It slowly turned its head to face Shiverstep, meeting her gaze.
The shadows of tangled legs moved gently. Rootgrove approached ever so slowly, often stopping in his tracks. The Woodcrawler would occasionally comb the air and rub its legs together like a pensive fly, before stepping over an unseen obstacle. It was like a diligent apprentice practicing their stalk, and they had found a bug in a clearing to target, to her horror and disgust.
Shiverstep let out a hiss, then a prolonged caterwaul. Rootgrove stopped. Then placed a leg forward.
Shiverstep snarled and swiped at the air again. To her dismay, Rootgrove retreated slightly behind a tree nearby him. His neck was still outstretched, boring its empty gaze down on her.
It was toying with her. She felt it. She hated it. She felt a surge of anger rush to her paws.
It was strange, she thought, in a moment of unwarranted clarity. It was strange how just a few moons ago, the beast was a source of terror to her. She was so afraid of him. In her youth, she wondered if she had dreamed him up. Seeing him at the Dome. Repeating the words of unknown entities. It would make sense, wouldn't it? For it to never be real.
And yet, when it happened again - when it was apparent that he was real - that wasn't the thing that mattered to her, or even scared her the most. It was the fact that there were beings beyond StarClan that existed, that tried to breach into her world, using her as a medium.
But they came to her. They answered her call. She didn't even know their names. But they were here. They were here, and they gave her courage. The disfigured visage of the monster before her didn't horrify her. It only disgusted her.
The Woodcrawler had no reason to keep a poor old cat alive, deformed and obliterated in every sense except for the freedom of death. No motive, no known purpose for it. But it didn't try to remove him. Or kill him. It kept him here. It used his flesh to taunt and horrify. Like a kit tormenting a still-living mouse out of pure curiosity.
She would not give it the satisfaction of her terror.
She could barely hear the sound of her companions making it to the top of the hill. Shiverstep took a step back. Rootgrove's approach meant that she could still keep an eye on him now. Her ears folded back. Her eyes narrowed.
"I'm not afraid of you," she hissed. Her voice still trembled.
The dying light illuminated Rootgrove's face one last time. A wide grin morphed on his face, larger than any she'd ever seen before. Then, Rootgrove's legs receded back into its hide. The neck began to recede. Before it stood still, it repeated:
"I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU."
The light vanished from the horizon.
Then, the instincts of generations of cats who lived and died in these woods howled through her, like the earth bore memory. It chased away the spirits she called forcefully, filling her with dread. Two truths surfaced.
Rootgrove was a distraction.
Woodcrawlers were eusocial.
Shiverstep heard screaming.
******
"I'm going to find them."
"Iciclepool - "
"I'm going to find my daughter, Hopechase. They should be back by now," Iciclepool hissed. Hopechase's expression remained calm, but firm.
"I know, love. I'm not here to object. I'm here to come with you," Hopechase meowed, placing a gentle tail on her mate's shoulder. Her blue eyes were steady. "Let's - "
"I'll go."
Iciclepool and Hopechase turned to the voice of their leader, who padded past them. Redstar's deep blue eyes were filled with layered anger, and her tail was low to the ground, kicking up dried nettles in her wake. The deputy and senior warrior instinctively parted to allow Redstar through, only for their emotions to catch up with them.
Hopechase started. "Redstar - "
"I have lives to spare. You do not. They can't be far," Redstar interjected, already walking out the gate.
Iciclepool tried to stand in Redstar's path and protest.
Redstar wouldn't allow it.
She shouldn't have let them go. She knew, she knew it wasn't wise. She was such a fool. Shiverstep looked so compassionate as she explained to her why she wanted to take Brackenfreckle on a late patrol. Shiverstep was becoming more and more compassionate over time. She kept telling stories with happy endings to the kits, giving them hope. She sat with Tree and Riftpaw, asking them what she could do to make them feel at home. She sat quietly with Morningspot when the nervous warrior was struggling. She listened to Redstar's occasional tangents about ForestClan history when she wasn't thinking straight.
Of course she wanted to make Brackenfreckle feel less isolated. And of course Redstar agreed with it.
She wouldn't let her Clanmates endanger themselves again. Not after Talontooth.
"Redstar." Iciclepool started firmly, but the leader glared at her deputy.
"I will find your daughter, Icicle. I will bring them back. Please trust me. You have to stay here, as deputy." Redstar spoke with finality. Iciclepool scowled and prepared to retort, only for her eyes to widen and her ears to twitch.
Redstar stopped, her ears swiveling immediately. Her fur bristled when she heard what her deputy did.
"WOODCRAWLER!"
Redstar's head darted towards the call. That was Shiverstep.
"HIDE, HIDE, HIDE!"
The call grew louder. Redstar saw the black pelts of Shiverstep and Brackenfreckle suddenly burst into the distance past the treelines. Relief and terror surged through Redstar all at once, her instincts kicking in as she climbed up the camp walls, then yowled for lockdown.
Shiverstep and Brackenfreckle sprinted through the camp gate as the Clan was thrown into organized chaos, the sick and the small already halfway into Redstar's den. Brackenfreckle's pelt stood on end as Shiverstep instinctively guided her up the rocks. Brackenfreckle clutched a basket in her mouth tightly, and Redstar's fur bristled as she smelled milk coming from it.
Redstar's mind feared for the worst as no queen was with them.
The camp gate closed and there were no patrols needed to raise the flag for.
And so her watch began.
Her ears swiveled. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Her heart thundered and her claws burrowed into the wood.
The woods were silent.
She had to force herself to stay focused. To count the minutes and give her deputy the signs. She could feel Iciclepool's eyes at the back of her head as her deputy stood on the High Rock.
Redstar heard the loud whine of a kit. Owlkit making a verbal protest. Cats hissing for silence in response.
Redstar counted the minutes.
The Woodcrawler didn't show itself. It rarely ever did. She knew that. The beasts were ambush predators. Prefering to hide. She mentally berated herself again, as her body automatically sounded the seconds with the stretch of her claws.
Why did she let them go? She was foolish to think that the Woodcrawlers would have their fill hunting Twolegs this greenleaf. She was foolish to think she could breathe, maybe trust the world around her for just one moment. No. Of course she couldn't. Of course the woods threatened to hurt her Clan.
She could not make that mistake again.
By the time the hour was up and there was no sight of the Woodcrawler, Redstar ended the lockdown. She approached her clanmates, who were eerily silent as they gathered in the middle of camp. Brackenfreckle placed the basket down in front of her, staring at its contents despondently. Redstar's heart tightened. She slowly padded up to the young healer, and her eyes glanced to its contents.
Three newborn kits were huddled against each other, sleeping peacefully. A ripped, green ribbon rested on top of them.
Redstar's heart sank. She had a feeling. She had seen this before. It happened far too often. She didn't ask where their mother was. As she saw the empty, hollow eyes of the dark grey molly, she knew.
Redstar glanced at Brackenfreckle's shoulder. A cobweb bandage was applied to a scrape. Riftpaw emerged from the crowd to sit beside his sister, and pressed his head against hers. Redstar glanced at Shiverstep, who was staring at the floor, with Iciclepool gently grooming her with a sympathetic purr.
Shiverstep's pupils were slits. Eerily calm. Yet her tensed jaw said otherwise.
Redstar brought her gaze back to the young kits, and asked quietly, "What happened?"
Brackenfreckle refused to look at the leader. Her gaze was distant. She said nothing.
Riftpaw purred as he pressed his head further into his sister's pelt. His hazel eyes brimmed with sadness and worry, as though he knew something the Clan didn't. His jaw had been healing well; enough for his words to be louder and more coherent. "It's okay, sis. It's…it's not your fault."
"It was." Her voice was low and cracked.
Redstar shook her head. "The blame belongs to the woods. Please. What happened?"
Brackenfreckle looked up at the leader. There was an attempt to seem angry. But it was overridden by numbness.
"...I'm so tired," she whispered almost inaudibly. "That's all. She's dead. It's my fault. And I'm so tired."
Redstar felt her heart sink. She blinked slowly at her, then looked at the kits.
"...I know this is difficult. But I need to know. First - are there any other possible risks we should be aware of? Any Living Tendrils, any Fakes that may have followed?"
Brackenfreckle slowly turned her head to stare at Shiverstep. The black and white tabby still kept her gaze to the floor. Iciclepool gently nudged her daughter and whispered words of encouragement. Finally, Shiverstep blinked, then looked up at Redstar.
Redstar didn't know why, but as she met the young medicine cat's gaze, her pelt prickled.
"...No. But…can I talk to you alone…after?" she asked quietly. Her voice was gentle. Too much so.
Shiverstep had been through too much in one lifetime. To be chased by a Woodcrawler twice…and the burden of keeping StarClan's secret...Redstar merely nodded. Shiverstep brought her gaze back to the floor.
"...Second," Redstar sighed. "...Did…you manage to get the mother's name?"
"So we can mark a grave. And conduct the burial ceremony."
"...There's no body to bury."
Redstar's ear flicked. "...When we don't have a body, we bury mementos. Keepsakes, to give to their spirits." She stared at the green bow. "...Was that theirs?"
Brackenfreckle stared at the bow for a while before nodding. Redstar gently removed the green bow. She stared at the three sleeping kits, blissfully unaware of the horrible night they had just experienced.
It was Riversnow who acted first, approaching the basket and looking at the kits with saddened eyes. She blinked, then said with some hesitation, "Windfur?"
The young tom looked up at her. "Yes?"
"...Remember how my milk production struggled to stop?"
"Yes. I gave you parsley for it." Windfur blinked, then seemed fatigued. "Unless."
Riversnow licked her chest fur in embarrassment before looking back at the kits. After an intense moment, she sighed. "Would it be unsafe for them to nurse?"
"No, it shouldn't be." Windfur's eyes softened as he stood up and approached the basket. He looked towards Brackenfreckle sympathetically, then grabbed the basket gently. "I'll look over them for any injuries or health issues."
Daffodilkit looked up to her mother curiously, padding after her. "Are we helping the babies?" she mewed.
"But why do you have to do it? You're our mom, where's - " Owlkit's yowling was cut short by Riversnow giving her a terse stare, her paw raised as if she was going to tap her rump. Owlkit swallowed back the rest of her sentence. Riversnow scowled.
"We help because it's right, Owlkit. I don't want one more complaint out of you. Understood?"
"Sorry," Owlkit mumbled, staring at the floor. Her grey eyes still showed frustration.
Barleywave watched quietly as Riversnow and her kits retreated into the shadow of the nursery. There was an unmistakable look of admiration in his eyes. It faded into longing affection. He blinked slowly, then nudged Cloudthunder quietly before standing.
"...Hey. We should prepare the funerary meal."
Cloudthunder stood up, agreeing solemnly. "I'll help start the fire," she said.
"...Can we help?" Airkit piped up from beside her. His sisters looked up at Cloudthunder hopefully.
Their mother gave them gentle licks on the foreheads, her orange eyes filled with a quiet pride. "Okay. But you have to listen. Alright? We're honoring a brave cat."
Redstar watched and listened as her Clanmates rallied to honor Blavignad and care for the new kits. Only Redstar, Shiverstep and Brackenfreckle remained at the center of camp, their minds elsewhere. Riftpaw tried to coax his sister into joining him. Brackenfreckle just shook her head and gave him empty platitudes that she'd help with the funeral in a bit. Riftpaw wasn't convinced. But he just batted at her ear playfully and told her to take care of herself, before giving her space.
Redstar closed her eyes and felt guilt seep through her.
She knew that outsiders were at risk in the woods. She knew that she couldn't possibly protect them all. She had a duty to her Clan, not to every cat to ever live. Perhaps if she were a leader from ForestClan's past, she would tell herself that at least, her Clanmates were safe for a few more moons, with the woods being fed.
But she wasn't one of those leaders. And the thought that an innocent life was taken when it could have been one of hers, angered her. She felt her jaw tighten around the green bow she had removed from the basket. She closed her eyes as she allowed the scent of the cat who owned it to fill her senses.
Redstar put down the bow, and pressed her nose against it in silent reverence, her thoughts swarming.
I'm sorry. If the woods had taken me sooner…I don't know if they would've left you alone. But maybe they would have. Maybe you'd still be here. I'm sorry.
It was a long, grueling night before the Clan finally found themselves in their dens. Redstar sat down in hers, staring at the wall, her thoughts swarming in melancholy.
Her ear twitched as she heard pawsteps entering her den. Shiverstep entered without permission, her steps quiet and lost in thought.
Redstar blinked slowly at her, remembering the cat's words from before. "You needed to speak to me?"
"...Yes," Shiverstep sat down, her tail covering her paws. She swallowed, took a deep breath, then began. "...Blavignad…she…she could've lived. She could've ran, if her paw wasn't sprained."
Redstar blinked. "...And?"
Shiverstep stared blankly ahead, her blue eyes were swarms of thought. The muscles around her throat tightened, and she was debating with herself internally on what to say. Redstar was reminded of the tiny, frail kit that she and Iciclepool found, abandoned in a bush, and the only thing she could think of now is how much the poor thing had experienced in such a short amount of time.
…She promised. She promised that she wouldn't let her Clan suffer like this.
"...You have experienced much pain in your young age, Shiverstep." Redstar meowed. "I am sorry that you are burdened with it. Please. If it is within my power, let me lift it."
Shiverstep's eyes widened, and for a moment, Redstar felt like her words may have breached the young molly's numbness. She suppressed a sob, closing her eyes and wiping her eyes.
Redstar waited patiently, and after a time that felt like a heartbeat or a thousand seasons, Redstar learned about what happened. Shiverstep told her about Endless. About how she had been injured by something in leafbare, and refused help unless she was kept a secret. How Brackenfreckle wanted to help Blavignad, and bring her borage to help her kits. How Endless and Blavignad confronted each other, and how Endless ran off with an ominous warning. Shiverstep struggled to explain the remainder. She said she was stalked by a Woodcrawler, and stared it down to try and escape it - which surprised Redstar. She felt like something was off - Shiverstep couldn't explain what the Woodcrawler face actually looked like, despite staring it down. She said it was covered in red roots - perhaps different from the rest, somehow. How Blavignad and Brackenfreckle tried to make it up the incline ahead of Shiverstep. How another Woodcrawler disguised as a dead bush leapt out at them. How Blavignad shoved Brackenfreckle aside, saving her life, before being dragged off into the dark.
She said that Brackenfreckle would corroborate the story.
Redstar closed her eyes, feeling bile rise in her throat.
The Woodcrawlers were intelligent. She knew this. They were not like Twolegs, or like cats. But they still brought their catches to their underground nests, and grew their kin.
It was rare that they needed to hunt in groups. But they could.
She thanked Shiverstep for her honesty. She told her to rest, and to take a break from duties tomorrow. Brackenfreckle should do the same.
…She would have to think about what to do about Endless, if anything at all.
She prayed to StarClan that night. Hoping, pleading, that they would grant her the wisdom and strength to protect her Clan.
---
...ForestClan has three new kits in its camp, such as it is. Brackenfreckle wearily gives them names. She doesn't know what to think anymore.
Morningspot goes on a long walk one morning, lost in thought. After weeks of seeking her - she stumbles into Bracken, foraging herbs on their territory alone. After begging and pleading, Bracken reluctantly follows Morningspot back to camp, wanting to reunite with her brother.
Guilt. That was the only thing Morningspot could feel. Guilt.
Guilt that she survived, when Talontooth didn't. Guilt that Perchpaw was hurt because of her. Guilt that Riftpaw was without his littermate - a cat that no one could promise was alive. Redstar made sure every cat had a smell of the leaf litter Branchpaw collected - Riftpaw had confirmed that it was Bracken. Morningspot's fur bristled when she also picked up Endless' scent in it. She glanced at Shiverstep nervously. Shiverstep met her stare from the corner of her eye with intensity. Neither cat said anything. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was good news - just to know that Endless survived her injury, and was perhaps looking after Bracken.
She tried to stay positive. She really did. When Windfur comforted her by telling her about StarClan, and about how her ancestors were watching over her, she tried to hold onto it with all of her heart.
It didn't chase away her nightmares. It was only enough to make Talontooth's eyes blue again in her memories. She didn't expect for them to make her sadder.
Maybe that's why she was here. Patrolling along the border, alone, in the young hours of the morning. She wasn't sure what she was trying to find. Her paws held no desire to run, or hunt, or fight. Just walk. Her amber eyes stared at the floor. The sound of the trickling river and the songbirds filled the early dawn.
Morningspot stopped. She sat down and stared at the floor, listening to the sounds of the woods.
It would be so beautiful, if she didn't feel like beasts were crawling beneath the earth, their lairs drenched in corpses.
She inhaled deeply. Exhale. Not helpful. Not helpful. She promised. She promised to try. Her throat tightened. But it was so, so hard.
She stared up into the cloudless sky. The endless blue held no answers for her. Her tail curled tightly around herself as she let out a pathetic mew.
"Please," she whined. "If you're really up there. Give me some kind of sign. Anything. I just…I feel like…"
She couldn't finish her sentence.
Morningspot tore her gaze away from the sky, staring back at the floor listlessly.
Morningspot didn't know how much time had passed when she defeatedly stood to her feet, and followed along the border again.
If only StarClan had a voice. If only she could tell Talontooth that she missed him, and she treasured his friendship. If only…
A black shadow appeared out of the corner of her eye.
Her gaze instinctively whipped towards it. Adrenaline shot through her, her claws unsheathed. She went from terrified to dazed as she realized what she was seeing.
The tail of a black cat swayed from behind a large oak tree on her side of the border.
Morningspot was rattled, emotions tumbling forth with the turbulence of a storm. Her paws found themselves padding towards the oak automatically. Her voice clung to one word uttered without thought. "Talontooth?"
The shadow behind the tree jolted and jumped into view, their brown eyes wide with shock. In their mouth was a clump of borage.
Morningspot equally jumped back in shock, back arching.
No. No, that wasn't Talontooth. Of course that wasn't Talontooth. It couldn't ever be him. He was…he…
Her eyes widened as the stranger's fear-scent invaded her nostrils.
The scent. The scent - the one on the leaf litter. This was Bracken. Riftpaw's sister - !
Bracken leapt across the stones by the river. Anxiety and panic surged through Morningspot. No, she couldn't fail again - not again, she couldn't lose another cat -
"PLEASE!" Morningspot's cry came out pathetically as she slipped on one of the stones, getting her hindquarters drenched in running water. "Please, stop, I'm begging you, your brother - "
Bracken nearly vanished into the brush before she skidded to a halt. The dark molly swerved around, her hindquarters crouched in preparation to leap at the warrior. Her eyes shifted wildly with feeling - hope, then terror, then anger. She spit aside the borage in her mouth, letting out a hiss.
"You don't have my brother, cult," she hissed.
Morningspot was practically drenched in water, yet her paws dragged themselves over the shallow riverbed. Morningspot's adrenaline was through the roof and she started sobbing as she hulled herself over the shore and limped towards her. The stress of the past few moons returned and broke her - Endless' rage and accusations, Talontooth's death, the Fake Cat, Perchpaw, Riftpaw, all of it - it all crashed as she desperately, just once, wanted someone to be okay. And yet she was just some cult member to her.
"Please, I'm sorry," she sobbed. Morningspot's paws lost their strength as she felt herself crouching to the floor, her ears folded back and her teeth bared in terror and pain. "I know I'm a cult member, I know, I know you hate me, I don't care, you don't have to come back with me, but please," Morningspot practically spat out, her eyes watering. "Please, see your brother. Riftpaw - "
"Riftpaw?" Bracken's eyes widened with dismay, eyeing Morningspot up and down.
"What have you done to him?" Bracken asked, her voice leveled with apprehension.
"He was hurt," Morningspot blubbered. "His jaw was broken, we found him near our border unconscious, we didn't want him to die, we just…"
Bracken's tail flicked with apprehension. Morningspot felt the desperation seeping through her skin as she felt herself crawling on the floor in submission.
"Please, I'm begging you," Morningspot could barely see in front of her as she sobbed.
Bracken's stare slowly morphed. She carefully brought herself out of her crouch, still keeping her eyes on the very wet, very pathetic-looking Morningspot.
"Please," the warrior begged again.
Bracken winced. After a few moments of silence, she said crossly, "You helped my brother."
Morningspot just nodded, unable to mantle past her blubbering.
"Why?"
"H-His jaw - "
"No, not that," Bracken interjected. "Why help him? You feed those woods. That's what your cult does."
Morningspot lifted her head to stare at Bracken. She must've looked like the most pathetic cat to ever exist, because Bracken's gaze went from skeptical to pitying.
"Just - look, maybe you're different, but you can't just expect me to - "
"We don't want to," Morningspot objected. Shame and grief welled up in her. She felt like a small kit again. "We don't want to feed the woods. We don't send kits to their deaths. We changed. I promise you, we - "
"Oh great nature, seriously? Anyone can just say that. I'm not stupid." Bracken's tone softened when Morningspot gave her a teary-eyed look. "How do I know you're not just…lying to me, yannow?"
Morningspot shook her head as she slowly stumbled to her feet, her paws and stomach dragging fallen pine needles into her fur. "He has long, black fur. He has spots on his coat. His eyes are hazel. A pink nose," she hiccuped.
Bracken's eyes widened. Her tail fell limp. "...I never gave that long-haired healer the color of his nose. Or his eyes. You shouldn't know that." Bracken paused, then hissed under her breath. "Shit."
The two mollies sat in tense silence. Morningspot sniffled. Bracken stared off to the side, seemingly contemplating the borage leaves she tossed aside.
Finally, Bracken sighed. "...He's really alive?"
Morningspot nodded.
"And…you've been looking for me because of him."
She nodded again.
"How do I know you're not just keeping him trapped?"
She shrugged.
"You're expecting me to just waltz into your fortress, then? What's stopping me from just finding friends and breaking him out?"
"I can bring him to you instead," Morningspot said. Her voice was small. "He can walk. His jaw is getting better."
"And your leader is going to let you do that? I met one of your healers or whatever a few moons ago. What if your 'secret keeper' or whatever, is just using you to recruit me as fodder? Ever thought of that?"
Morningspot froze, but stared at Bracken firmly. The fear in her soul scrambled onto secure footing, finding brief clarity. Redstar was not Lakestar. She knew many cats would not believe that. But in this, Morningspot was sure. She knew Redstar loved them.
"Redstar is not a secret keeper. She is not recruiting cats to hurt them. She wants to protect them."
The surprising conviction in her eyes must've surprised Bracken, as she tilted her head at her. She blinked, before her eyes narrowed again.
"...That's the opposite of what I've heard from every cat I've ever met."
"...Before I was born, ForestClan used to be ruled by Lakestar. She...she threw her Clanmates at the woods. Redstar wanted change. When Lakestar died, she...she promised to protect her Clan. I've seen her stand on the walls of our camp, looking for monsters while we hide in her den. I've seen her attack a Living Tendril to try and retrieve a kit. I've seen her come back several mornings, exhausted, having spent the night trying to feed the woods her lives."
Silence fell like a heavy stone.
"...Lives?" Bracken breathed.
Morningspot nodded. "...Our leaders have nine lives. Gifted by…by our ancestors. In StarClan."
Bracken's eyes narrowed. "Uh-huh. If your leaders have multiple lives, why'd the last one toss everyone to the woods? Why didn't she just feed them herself?"
"Redstar asked that too."
Silence again. With every angle Bracken tried to find as a reason not to come with Morningspot, the brown and white warrior just answered with soft defeat. She knew Bracken wouldn't come with her. She may as well answer anything she asked. It was the least she could do. Maybe Bracken would give directions on where to find her later. Maybe she could give them to Riftpaw. All these quiet, defeated "maybes" that she assumed would never come true.
She lifted her head to ask just that before Bracken closed her eyes, then said with soft resignation, "Fine. Show me my littermate."
Morningspot's fur would've bristled if it wasn't completely soaked. "Really?"
"Yeah. Hurry up before I change my mind," Bracken sighed. "And shake the water out of your pelt. You look like a weird rat."
Morningspot sneezed as she shook herself out poorly, the mud and pines shuffling around under her pelt. "Sorry," she squeaked.
"Whatever, it's fine," Bracken grumbled as she stepped across the stepping stones. "Let's go."
---
Bracken was finally found and invited into the Clan, and takes on a more Clan-like name, Brackenfreckle - without prompting from others. Brackenfreckle is both shocked and relieved to see Riftpaw. The Clan is happy that they could reunite the two.
