#shreddednose

“I don’t like it.” The bulky calico, Viceroyclaw, was the one to break the silence. Fernstar’s high deputy was muted, but everyone looked at her all the same. “Something’s wrong.”

“Given that screamin’ we heard…” A dark, grey-brown apprentice just behind her drew in a breath, and his drawl had a lagging anxiety in it. “Ma’am, shouldn’t I go up ahead, see what’s goin’ on?”

The scout-in-training had asked that three times now, and Fernstar returned with her third answer. “I don’t want anyone getting caught in something before we get there.”

They had been a very long ways away from the settlement – just far enough to barely see several mounds of stone – when, through the storm, had come the sounds of battle. Yowls and screeches, riddled with raindrops, shook the entire party, and the patrollers had wanted to run to investigate. Fernstar had stopped them, because fighting of that scale was extremely rare in the Territory and she was not eager to get anyone hurt for an unknown reason. Before long, the noise had died down, but everyone was still unsettled.

Now, they were a minute or two’s walk away from the houses, and Fernstar wanted her whole patrol together in case they needed to make a run for it. Glorypelt had managed to convince her to let him take his apprentice with them on this journey as a test to see if he was ready to earn his name. She was not eager to send the boy into potential danger on his own.

Nothing more was said until they were close enough that two cats leaning against the walls of the houses twitched their ears and looked up at them. One of them got to their feet and nodded to the other, who limped off into the cobweb of stone.

“Thank the stars you’re here,” the cat said when they were within earshot. Fernstar recognized her as Frostclaw, one of the patrollers sent as a relay for the spies. “It all went horrible, Fernstar. It was so sudden…”

“We heard fighting.” Fernstar stopped to dip her head respectfully to the white molly. “Is anyone badly hurt?”

Frostclaw’s eyes squeezed shut with grief. “We lost Striderfoot.”

The Fleet members with Fernstar all gasped or cried out in anger. Only the plain grey molly at Viceroyclaw’s side remained silent. She bowed her head, and Fernstar saw her claws dig into what little earth could be found in the cracks of the stone.

“I’m sorry, Fogpetal, ma’am,” Frostclaw said to this molly. “It all came out of nowhere. Everyone was fighting. It was chaos. And then Striderfoot, she jumped on someone, and her head hit a wall when they fought back…”

 Fogpetal lifted her paw and Frostclaw fell silent. She looked at Fernstar, who gave one curt nod, and stepped forward. “Take me to Shreddednose. The rest of you, stay with Fernstar and Viceroyclaw.”

The Fleet deputy and Frostclaw trotted off and took a right around a corner. Fernstar lead everyone into the settlement.

It was somehow packed full of cats and felt incredibly empty at the same time. There was no laughing or friendly tussling here; cats sat in small clumps of three or four, grooming each other’s wounds or staring ahead mournfully. Some whispered to each other so quietly that Fernstar could not catch what they were saying. It took a long time for anyone to notice the newcomers, and Fernstar was surprised that, even when they did, no one jumped to their feet or greeted them.

“Where is Redheart?” Fernstar called into the clearing.

“Gone,” someone murmured to her left. “She took a bunch of cats and just left.”

Fernstar twisted her neck fast enough to hurt her and she stared at them. “She left?”

The cat lifted a paw and pushed outward. “Walked off with that healer and his brother. Some other cats, too.”

The crew behind Fernstar shuffled and muttered confusion. Fernstar gestured with her tail and they split off in all directions to sniff around and ask questions. Viceroyclaw stuck to her side, as usual.

“The brother of Greyleaf is gone,” Fernstar repeated to the cat. “Who else?”

The cat sighed. “I’unno. An apprentice, that blind molly-“

“Why didn’t you tell me Fernstar was here?!”

Snowshine came skidding around a corner and scrabbled on the stone, rushing to Fernstar and skidding to a stop. She bobbed her head over and over, fur mud-stained and puffed out, looking nothing like the earnest and proper little seer that Fernstar usually knew.

“I’m sorry, Fernstar, I tried to get someone to stop her, I had my suspicions, and I didn’t follow up on them, I should have, I’m sorry-“

Viceroyclaw cleared her throat and Snowshine faltered, tumbling off her rambling with a few half-started words. She fidgeted nervously, looking between the much larger calico and the ginger molly about her size.

Fernstar kept her composure, though she felt agitation sinking into her pelt as it came off of Snowshine in waves. “Slow down and start from the beginning.”

“Of course.” Snowshine nodded quickly and took a breath. “Redheart heard you were on your way – I found out about the mission, I should say, and I was going to help, however I could-“

Fernstar blinked slowly.

“Anyway-“ Snowshine cleared her throat. “She tried to get everyone to leave immediately, but the Clast got angry, and I tried to get her to stay, or at least have someone catch her and keep her here until you arrived, but her traveling crew, they attacked and a fight broke out. She ran with Greyleaf, but she came back, I don’t know why. She was saying nonsense about StarClan and told everyone to follow her if they wanted to know ‘the truth’, and your spies all went with her.”

Fernstar felt Viceroyclaw look at her in surprise, waiting for her reaction. She took a moment to absorb the story before responding. “And where are they now?”

“I don’t know.” Snowshine’s fidgets got more intense. “I told everyone to catch her and Greyleaf, but no one did anything. They took an apprentice and a random warrior with them, but all the spies are gone too – Mistface and the others.”

“And she killed Striderfoot?” Viceroyclaw asked quietly.

“No, someone else did, on accident-“ Snowshine’s fur took on a sharper look, even as puffed out as it was. “But she might as well have. She was trying to get everyone to leave the Territory with her, and she said StarClan is- I couldn’t believe- she said it’s a monster! She’s talking pure madness now!” Snowshine leaned forward, eyes wide enough to pop out of her head. “And that stupid healer agreed with her! So they dragged off six cats, including an apprentice, Fernstar, a child!”

“I heard you the first time,” Fernstar said, trying to restrain the edge in her voice. She looked to Viceroyclaw. “Get some more information from the others.”

Viceroyclaw nodded uncomfortably and reluctantly shuffled off across the clearing. Fernstar didn’t usually force her to talk to others, but she knew that Snowshine’s account was drastically colored.

Someone cleared their throat. “If you like…”

Fernstar turned around. A sleek silver tom had slunk up behind her.

“Who are you?” Fernstar narrowed her eyes. 

He smiled in an as transparently charming way as he could. “My name is Starkfeather, my leader. If you like, I can give you information, too.”

 ---

 “What do you make of it?”

Fogpetal and Viceroyclaw stood together with Fernstar in the center of the clearing. The rest of the patrol had returned with similar stories: Redheart rushing to get everyone out, the patrollers trying to arrest her, a battle engaging, a death, the strange speech about StarClan, and Redheart and Greyleaf departing with six other cats. Starkfeather had provided that the apprentice was a former seer-in-training, daughter of a Hillock seer (“horribly poor apprentice, may I say”), and that she had taken a cat named Flyfang with her.

Fernstar lifted her chin a little, eyes unfocused as she considered her options. The two deputies looked at her curiously, and the rest of the patrol were sitting around Striderfoot’s body, paying their respects.

“It sounds like we’ll need to bring the two of them in for questioning,” Fernstar deliberated. “I want to question the spies as well. Perhaps we don’t need to arrest them, but I certainly need to discuss them breaking on their mission.”

Fogpetal tilted her head in thought. “We did have Darkpelt saying she wanted to see it through. Perhaps they’re keeping an eye on Redheart while getting more information.”

“I’d like to think that.” Fernstar straightened up and turned to walk away, beckoning the other mollies with her tail. They followed her to the patrollers, where not just her party, but the relay patrollers sat in a ring. All of them looked up at her slowly when she cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry for Striderfoot’s death,” she said. “But I think I’ll require the assistance of your party, Shreddednose. We’re going to track this group down and bring them to the leaders’ den, and I don’t know how much they’ll resist.”

A golden tom’s ears slid back and his muzzle wrinkled. “I’d be happy to give that rot deputy some return on what she let happen.”

“Count me in,” Frostclaw added. A couple other cats agreed alongside her.

Shreddednose looked down at Striderfoot. “We need to bury her, before we do anything else.”

“Of course,” Fogpetal said gently. “If I remember right, her request was somewhere in the open.”

Fernstar gave Fogpetal an appreciative look. The Fleet were always like a family, and this deputy had taken great care to get to know each member, of which there were many. It was such a tight-knit group that they usually handled each other’s burials, instead of whatever actual family they had come from. Even Phoebestar, their leader, was much closer to them than any of the other leaders were to their families.

“It was,” Shreddednose said, her voice husky. She cleared her throat and spoke more clearly, but the pain in her eyes did not go away. “If we may, Fernstar-“

“Just a moment.” Fernstar moved forward and touched her nose to Striderfoot’s side. “We thank you for your service, Striderfoot, and we mourn your loss. Rest well in StarClan.”

This leader’s blessing seemed to ease the Fleet members, and slowly they shifted around until Striderfoot was hoisted on several of their backs. The group moved off together, Fogpetal taking the lead.

Fernstar watched them go, feeling some hurt of her own. Not just for the loss of an innocent cat – she silently grieved for the loss of a deputy that had so much promise that Fernstar had expected her to take her place as leader one day, and of a brilliant healer that she had personally voted for to serve the leaders and high deputies.

“Phoebestar is going to be furious,” Viceroyclaw murmured in her ear, bringing her back into focus.

“We’ll send Mintseed to tell her,” Fernstar said quietly. “Or at least relay to another messenger. I want at least one with us to keep the other leaders updated.”

Viceroyclaw nodded. “Boarpaw will be happy to find a relay for us. He’s capable. I think he can track us down again.”

Fernstar said nothing. She just turned to face the majority of the cats and raised her voice.

“If Redheart returns,” she called in the clearing, “I want everyone here to keep her in place and send word to me or the other leaders. Greyleaf gets the same treatment. Do not be violent with them. Just ensure they stay put.”

Mistface did not sit down, but, after a long moment, he slowly and warily nodded once. “Go on, then.”

Redheart took in a slow breath and shut her eyes. When she opened them again, they were dull with weariness. “StarClan as we know it – as we think we know it – is a lie. And it’s a very successful lie that’s been going on since before the Union. It’s why I’m trying to get everyone away from the Territory.”

Something in Mistface’s mind clawed at anywhere in his thoughts it could reach, like a trapped mouse violently scrambling for freedom as a hawk approached it. “…What kinda lie?”

Greyleaf and Redheart looked at each other, wordlessly exchanging some thought. Greyleaf turned back to his brother, ears back. “A kind of lie that I don’t think you’re going to believe. StarCla-“

“Mistface!”

All three cats jumped. The rest of the world came rushing back – the rain drummed the earth again, thunder rolled overhead, and someone was rustling the hedge’s branches and leaves. Mistface turned around to be greeted with a slightly battered Laurelclaw. His white fur had patches of mud all over it, especially on his feet and belly, and he was squinting one eye a little like he’d scratched it on a branch.

“You found her,” he said. “Good. Listen, we have a serious problem. One of the patrollers is out here, and…”

He trailed off, looking back from where he’d come and shuffling his front feet nervously.

Redheart took a few steps forward, still weary, but unafraid. “What’s going on?”

Laurelclaw turned to her, mouth twitching. “Um. Someone got hurt.”

Mistface was a heartbeat from responding that they had just left the Clast settlement in the middle of a battle, and of course someone was going to be hurt, but Laurelclaw’s anxious expression silenced him. There was more to it than this.

Greyleaf suddenly jolted to life and hurried past Mistface, almost bumping into him. “How bad is it? Where are they?”

Laurelclaw didn’t answer. He just backed up through the hedge, giving the other three space to follow him. Mistface waited until Redheart and Greyleaf went after Laurelclaw before ending the train, just in case Redheart decided to run at the last moment.

They struggled through the thick brush before emerging into the open, where a golden tom was waiting for them. He was soaked through and his fur stuck in clumps of wet hair, but his back-fur managed to bristle just fine as he glared at Redheart and Greyleaf.

“I hope you’re happy,” he growled.

“I’m not.” Redheart took a step forward, clearing herself of the small party. “What happened?”

The tom’s claws dug into the mud and his tail lashed. “That fight you started got one of my friends killed.”

Mistface expected Redheart and Greyleaf to be upset and shocked. He did not expect them both to freeze in complete horror and drop their mouths open, eyes wide enough to pop out of their sockets.

“I don’t care if I have to fight all four of you,” the tom said. “You’re coming back with me whether you-“

Redheart shoved past him and broke into a sprint, Greyleaf close behind her. The tom’s anger was momentarily displaced by confusion, but he shook it off and followed the pair. Mistface and Laurelclaw took up the rear, all cats running as fast as they could.

They reached the Clast settlement, it felt, far too slowly for their speed. The yowls and screeches of battle had ceased entirely, leaving the rain and hisses of pain to occupy the tense air. Clusters of cats spotted the stone ground, some cleaning their wounds, others talking to each other worriedly under their breath. Everyone paused what they were doing to watch Redheart lead the four toms in and skid to a stop, sending ripples through the puddle she halted in.

Redheart looked around wildly. “Where’s-“

“Over here,” someone said glumly.

Mistface turned to the source of the voice. It was a large grey molly with a heavily scarred nose, bowing her head over a black cat stretched out on the stone. A red-and-white tom that Mistface remembered was called Brightblaze was pacing behind her, looking terrified.

“I didn’t mean to,” he was saying. “I really didn’t. I’m sorry, I-“

Redheart shouted wordlessly, making everyone flinch, and charged over to the body. Greyleaf stumbled to a halt beside her and began sniffing and nudging the head, almost hyperventilating.

“What have you done?!”  Redheart screamed at Brightblaze.

Brightblaze cowered, trembling. “I- it was an accident, I swear-“

Greyleaf drew a paw over the cat’s head, bristling. “Trauma-“ He sharply looked up at Brightblaze. “What did you do to her?”

A patched molly stepped forward and said quietly, “I saw it. She tackled him and he jumped backwards into a house’s wall. She hit her head and just…slumped.”

There was a strangled cry of alarm. Mistface turned to his right to see Darkpelt and Beetlefoot coming around the corner. They had been instructed to keep away from the fight, but Redheart’s return must have alerted them.

Beetlefoot looked furious, his paws slightly spread out like he was about to attack. “That’s Striderfoot!”

“Dead cat?” Darkpelt asked, and thank the stars above that she did not sound casual and snarky like she usually did.

“One of the Fleet!” Beetlefoot started forward, teeth bared, but Mistface lifted a paw, pads outward, and he stopped.

Someone whimpered behind him. He twisted his head back to see the familiar calico apprentice, Littlepaw, huddled beside her pseudo-mentor, Flyfang. Flyfang was scratched up, but she looked ready to fight again, and she stood protecting Littlepaw from the view of the body.

Laurelclaw approached them and sniffed Littlepaw over, murmuring, “Are you okay?”

Littlepaw nodded unsteadily and shivered.

Mistface faced frontwards again and watched his brother. Greyleaf had steadied his breath a little, but he was still in the midst of panic. He kept shaking Striderfoot’s shoulder and turning his head so his ear was at her mouth, searching for an exhale.

Redheart was not quite shaking with rage, but her aura emanated it enough to make everyone draw back. She had her head low as she glared at Brightblaze, and her sentence was ground out through her teeth. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to her?”

“I-“ Brightblaze swallowed thickly. “I killed her, and I’m sorry, but it was an accident-“

“You just sent her soul to StarClan!” Redheart straightened up, looming over the patched tom, hair all over her body sticking straight out. “You doomed her!”

“I…” Brightblaze faltered, still afraid but now confused. “How is…?”

Greyleaf looked up from Striderfoot and turned a furious eye on Brightblaze as well. “You don’t understand. None of you understand. That is the last place you want her to go.”

“So she got to you, too!”

Everyone’s gaze went to a small white molly – the Clast’s seer, Snowshine - pushing her way out of a clump of cats. She was less pretty than before, with her fur sagging with rain and mud, but she was still radiating outrage.

“I knew it!” she shouted. “You’ve been trying to turn everyone away from StarClan this whole time!”

Redheart met Snowshine’s stare with narrowed eyes. Her voice was steady, though not quite as calm as she probably wanted it to be. “I have. And you should have been, too.”

Snowshine made a noise like an outraged cough. Around them, cats who weren’t already watching the commotion lifted their heads and trailed off their sentences. The rain pounded away, diluting the thin blood already washing out in puddles, the only sound in the clearing.

Greyleaf’s ears were pinned to his head as his wide eyes roamed over the scattered crowd. He inhaled slowly, wobblingly, and turned his gaze to Redheart. “Now or never.”

Redheart didn’t look at him, but she nodded and slowly went around the body of Striderfoot and Greyleaf, walking until she was in the center of the clearing and easy to see. She didn’t need to make sure cats were looking at her; everyone was, and with increasing confusion and tension.

“The reason I’ve tried to take cats with me out of the Territory,” she said, “is that what we’ve been told is StarClan is nothing more than a monster. It’s been lying to us this entire time so that we stay here thinking we’re safe and have a pleasant life and afterlife ahead of us. The truth is that it aims to take us, one by one, and-“

A cry of outrage rang through the camp, coming from all sides. Cats jumped to their feet and exchanged dumbfounded stares before shouting at Redheart.

“Are you kidding?!”

“You’ve gone insane!”

“What are you talking about?! You’re not making sense!”

Redheart closed her mouth and shut her eyes, head lowered, as the shock and incredulity pummeled her words down. Greyleaf immediately stood up and went to her side, glaring balefully at everyone around them.

“You think she’s stupid enough to make this up out of nowhere?!” he barked. “She’s telling the truth!”

“Greyleaf!” Snowshine’s voice cut through the onslaught and the rest of the cats’ cries stuttered and trailed off. “How can you support this? You’re supposed to be sensible!”

Greyleaf’s back started arching and he bared his teeth at Snowshine. “Because I’ve seen it too!”

This caused the lowering volume to almost completely mute itself. Everyone looked at each other, baffled and a little troubled. Mistface felt himself almost completely freeze over as he stared at his brother. He managed to slide his eyes to the right and see Beetlefoot’s scowl twist in alarm and Darkpelt’s blind eyes narrow with focus.

Redheart lifted her head again and spoke as she slowly began to walk out of the center of camp. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but… if you want to know more…” Her tired eyes pierced through the growing dark, seeming to land on every cat at once. “If you want to know the truth, I suggest you follow me.”

Greyleaf cast a glare around, daring anyone to argue back, before catching up to Redheart, tail switching.

Mistface heard paws splashing through the water and turned to discover Darkpelt following them.

“You’re goin’?” he asked, unable to make his voice go beyond a whisper.

“We have a job to do,” Darkpelt said simply, “and I intend to see it through. I know you’re not staying.”

“I’m not,” Mistface agreed. He stepped in beside Darkpelt, silently guiding her after Redheart and Greyleaf.

Behind them, Flyfang hissed, “What are you doing?”

To Mistface’s surprise, Littlepaw hissed back, “I had a dream the other night, and it was wrong. I need answers.”

“Well, you’re not going alone,” Flyfang said firmly, and wet pawsteps were behind Mistface and Darkpelt.

“Someone stop them!” Snowshine shrieked. “You! Catch Redheart, at least!”

Laurelclaw was the one to respond sheepishly. “I- sorry, but I have to go with my crew. Beetlefoot?”

Beetlefoot’s words were delayed and strained. “If I must. We can arrest her on the way.”

Mistface looked back to see a spluttering Snowshine, claws scraping at the ground and her tail lashing. She whirled to the patrollers, who were all huddled around Striderfoot. “Someone do something!”

None of the patrollers responded. No one did, in fact. The cats backed away a little to let Redheart and the rest through.

“You-“ Snowshine spluttered before shouting at Redheart, “You wait until the leaders hear about this! Someone will catch you!”

Redheart paused and calmly turned her head just enough to meet Snowshine’s eyes. “Good luck to them.”

He could see Snowshine from here – she was a pretty white molly with yellow eyes, and she was currently pulling a squirrel from the oversized prey pile. She looked a little anxious… perhaps ‘stressed’, rather, was the right word. Her fur was fluffy, and Mistface could guess that it was normally very well groomed and smoothed down. Right now, it looked like she had slept on it wrong, and then kept turning over in her sleep to make all of it stick out at odd angles.

“Prime for flattery and a kind conversation,” Darkpelt had said to him. “So pour on the charm and pretend you give a hoot about her problems.”

Mistface didn’t like other cats at the best of times. Actively having to seek one out and act interested in them was like finding a stinking, rotting piece of meat in the grass and being told to eat it with a genuine smile.

Nevertheless, he had a mission (why had he agreed to this again?), so he gently shook out his fur, let it settle, and sauntered forward for the prey-pile.

Snowshine glanced up as he approached and blinked in surprise. He smiled pleasantly at her and sniffed a mouse.

“They make prey so much better ‘round these parts,” he said in his news-and-weather voice. “Marshes must take the taste right out of whatever StarClan sends down.”

Snowshine relaxed and some of her fur flattened, though it was still awkwardly angled. “I haven’t really been anywhere but here. You’re from the south? Scattered, I'm guessing?”

“That I am.” Mistface tilted his head and crinkled his eyes in fake amusement. “Accent give it away?”

She laughed a little. “Just a bit.” She looked him over with roaming eyes. Mistface tried not to get annoyed. “I don’t think I heard your name when you came in. You were with that blind molly, right?”

“Mm.” He tilted his head a little to the left with a winning smile. “I’m Mistface.”

“Oh!” Snowshine perked up even more. “Then you’re Greyleaf’s brother! He’s always talking about you and your mother.”

“Oh, dear.” Mistface made a face of pretend worry. “Must not have a real good impression of me, then.”

“Actually, he has nothing but nice things to say about you,” Snowshine hurried to reply. “He says you’re really charming and kind.”

“We’ll have to see if that’s the case, then, won’t we?” Mistface said, giving her an appraising look. She suddenly seemed a little shy. He wanted to vomit.

Snowshine shuffled her feet and pointed with her tail to a rare grassy spot just beyond a pair of houses. “I, um, usually eat over there, if you want to come with. It’s a lot warmer than anywhere else in the village.”

“That’d be nice.” Mistface picked up a random piece of prey (a black bird of some kind) and waited for her to do the same with her meal before walking with her to the grass. He was very grateful he didn’t have to say anything now that his mouth was occupied.

Once they were settled across from each other, Mistface started pulling some of the feathers off of his prey’s belly. “I do have to ask – you’re a seer, I'm guessin'. And a real good one, goin’ by your suffix. What are you doin’ here in Clast?”

“Oh, well…” Snowshine swallowed the mouthful of squirrel she had already taken. “Everywhere needs a seer. And now, with Redheart doing her… thing... the actual Clast cats need someone to sort of be in charge.” She gave a weak chuckle, seemingly to herself. “They’re not too happy with her bringing in a bunch of strangers that don’t want to fight.”

“Y’all have plenty of loners come in, though, don’t you?”

“Yes, definitely, but they’re at least here to test their strength, and then they leave.” Snowshine sighed. “Not that I like them barging in all the time, but the rest of Clast does. These new cats are just here because of Redheart’s new ideas. They turn down too many fights for Clast’s liking. And, well, Redheart acting so odd anyway…”

Mistface had the sneaking suspicion that Snowshine did not voice her thoughts too often to anyone around the settlement. Suddenly, now that someone was listening and apparently caring, she was off. Mistface simply nodded and let her go about her new duties and how Redheart was this and that, and on and on, while he ate his bird.

“…I mean, I haven’t even been able to go to the Lighthouse, I’ve been so busy. StarClan can speak to us anywhere, I know, but sleeping at the very bridge to heaven is the best way to talk directly.”

She paused for breath, and Mistface took the opportunity to comment, “And StarClan can’t reach you at all if you leave with Redheart, I’m guessin’.”

“She’d like that,” Snowshine said, with a sudden darkness. “She’s always been weird about StarClan. Never even thinks to just have me ask them what to do about whatever problems come up, even for big things.” She looked around and leaned in a little, Mistface copying her, and whispered, “I think it’s just because she has these nightmares now and then. She thinks that StarClan’s giving her the silent treatment, so she’s getting bad dreams instead of visits from our ancestors.”

Nightmares… Mistface hummed in thought, keeping his voice low. “Well, don’t tell anyone, but my brother has the same problem.”

“Really?” Snowshine’s eyes widened.

“He’s had nightmares all his life.” Mistface knew that Greyleaf didn’t consider this particular fact a secret, but pretending to share some intimate detail with Snowshine would only help her trust him more, so he continued with his conspiring tone. “StarClan’s never talked to him, either.”

Snowshine nodded like he had given her the answer to all of life’s questions. “That must be why they get along so well, then.”

“Mm.” Mistface drew his head back, but stayed quiet. “Any other seers ‘round here that could help?”

“Well, we have the one that came in.” Snowshine made a slightly distasteful face. “Starkfeather. But he’s… not exactly someone I would go out of my way to talk to about stuff like this. I don’t know that he’d be particularly helpful.”

Mistface winked. “Not on your level, at least, I take it.”

Snowshine smiled bashfully and Mistface silently cursed Darkpelt for making him do this. “Maybe not… an apprentice arrived one day that used to train as a seer, but she’s going to be a warrior instead, so I didn’t want to bother her and ask.”

Snowshine started again on her rambling, this time about the various new cats that had come in recently. Mistface listened solely because she could say something important.

She didn’t.

He did not like her.

 ---

 When night arrived, everyone settled in to sleep, except for Beetlefoot. He instead took the opportunity to pretend take a walk and enjoy the night sky. When he was far enough away from the eyes and ears of the Clast camp, he took off north, never once looking upward (it was a waste of time).

He was lucky enough to meet no one on his path – during the living years, everyone stayed in underground dens or moved to whatever trees or shelter they could find to escape the rain. There was no rain tonight, but clouds were coming again from the coast. Even this far away, Beetlefoot could gather that Petrichor and Derecho, the aspects of storms, would be arriving soon with a determination to soak the earth.

Which means he would leave footprints on his next trip, if he wasn’t careful.

Beetlefoot caught a scent of a familiar cat and slowed down to a loping canter. He lifted his head up again, keeping his chest puffed out as well as he could while staying at his current speed. He already knew how this was going to go for him. Drop off the information, be dismissed, leave without another word. Other Fleet members liked to swap conversations. Just not usually with him.

Never a change in that, until Nettlecloud and her strange sons.

He saw a cat rise from the grass and turn to face him, soon followed by four others. He slowed again, this time to his regular trot, and nodded sharply once he was within earshot. He stopped a few feet away from the leader, a grey molly with a heavily scared muzzle, and stood about as tall as he could. He was still much shorter than everyone else.

“Beetlefoot, yeah?” the molly said. “Clean path here?”

“Yes.” Beetlefoot dipped his head. “No thorns on the way, Shreddednose.”

He didn’t particularly like trading the common polite phrases with other members of the Fleet, but it was all he usually got in the way of conversation, so he took it. It was just good to be greeted at all by one of the more prolific patrollers in the Fleet.

A lanky black molly took several long steps forward. “What’ve you got for us?”

This, he thought, was Striderfoot. He had only met her once, and she had been similarly brisk. He could respect that. “Information about Redheart.”

He recited everything Darkpelt and Mistface had gathered and given him – leaving out, he noted with pride, absolutely nothing. Striderfoot narrowed her eyes, listening carefully, until he concluded. She looked at Shreddednose.

“You got everything?” Shreddednose said.

“Everything,” Striderfoot affirmed. “Want me to head off now?”

“You might as well.” Shreddednose tapped Striderfoot’s side with her tail. “Frostclaw can go with you, if you want. That predator and all.”

“What, and be slowed down by her lumbering rump?” Striderfoot said, and grinned when a white molly came up and bopped her. “I’ll be fine. It’ll be light by the time I get there.”

“Then try to be safe for once,” Shreddednose said fondly.

“Of course.” Striderfoot turned, nodded at Beetlefoot, and said quiet goodbyes to the rest of her team before taking off at a sprint (I could outrun her, Beetlefoot thought snippily).

Shreddednose smiled, then returned to professionalism when she looked back at Beetlefoot. “Nothing else?”

Beetlefoot pretended he didn’t feel a little deflated. “Nothing else.”

“Chase the wind, then.” Shreddednose bowed her head.

“Only the warmest breezes.” Beetlefoot mirrored her gesture to her, then to the others, who looked indifferent to his existence. He whirled around and sprinted off, hastening to leave the situation before it turned awkward.