#slateheart

“Nothing,” Scorchplume said with a dismissive wave of her tail. 

“Nuh-uh!” Fogpaw insisted. “You just admitted you were being careful about what you say!”

“No I didn’t,” said Scorchplume in her performatively offended voice. “Those words never came out of my mouth.”

“But-! You basically said that!”

“Did not.”

“What are you hiding!?” Fogpaw groaned. She could tell that Scorchplume was being deliberately obtuse to avoid answering her question. Determined to get answers, she decided to start throwing out explanations and seeing what got the biggest reaction out of Scorch. 

“Is it… bad news?”

“Mm.” Scorch didn’t even glance at her. It probably wasn’t that.

“Okay, it’s good news,” nodded Fogpaw.

“Who said that?”

Fogpaw growled in playful annoyance but otherwise ignored the comment. “Okay, good news, good news… Are you pregnant?”

Scorchplume spluttered and stopped walking immediately. “B-gh-What?!” 

Fogpaw was startled by the intensity of her reaction. “Well, you’re mates with Yarrowshade now, I thought maybe-”

“First of all,” blustered Scorch, “we are not mates-” (“Oh, okay.”) “-and second of all, I can’t have kittens. I’ve been caught by the twolegs, remember?”

“Oh, yeahhh,” Fogpaw frowned. “Okay, so it’s not that.”

“It’s not anything, Fogpaw,” insisted Scorch, resuming the walk back to camp. “You should really just drop it.” 

“But it’s clearly something or you wouldn’t be trying so hard to make me drop it.”

“Fine,” Scorch gave in, and for a split second Fogpaw’s stomach fluttered in triumph, “think what you want! But I’m telling you, there’s nothing important going on today.”

“Wait, so it’s an event?” Fogpaw gasped and Scorch laughed and rolled her eyes. 

“You’re reading too much into things,” she said. 

Just then, they crested the hill into camp and Goldenstar’s voice called out, “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Stoneperch for a Clan meeting!” 

Fogpaw gasped again and her eyes snapped towards the Stoneperch where Goldenstar was smiling at them. Beneath it sat Slatepaw, her fur brushed up in excitement, and Fogpaw realized very suddenly what Scorch had been hiding. She looked back at her mentor and found a smug grin across her face.

“Well, we certainly don’t want to miss that, now do we?” she said.

“Oh my stars,” Fogpaw shouted, “I can’t believe it!”

“Volume,” winced Scorch and Fogpaw blushed shyly. 

“Whoops. Sorry.” 

“Fogpaw, come on!” called Slatepaw. Scorch gave her a shoulder shove and sent Fogpaw scrambling down to sit with her sister in the front of the crowd. A few of the cats gathering around chuckled and she couldn’t tell if they were laughing at her but she chose to believe they weren’t. These were her Clanmates, her friends. They wouldn’t do that.

“Can you believe it?” she asked Slatepaw.

“I know, right?” grinned her sister. “We’re going to be warriors!”

“Yeah,” Fogpaw’s smile fell a little bit. She had been thinking about that lately, about what she wanted to be in life, and she had been planning for this moment. She hoped that Slatepaw wouldn’t be upset by what she was going to do. 

She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, however, as Goldenstar began the ceremony proper.

“Well, I think we all know why we’re gathered here today,” she said, smiling down at the apprentices. “Slatepaw and Fogpaw have trained long and hard and their mentors have both reported that they are more than ready to receive their warrior names.” 

Behind them, trying to be quiet but not going unnoticed, someone said, “Careful, careful. You alright?” 

“I’m fine,” grunted a voice that Fogpaw instantly recognized as Ghost’s. She whipped around to see Jagg guiding him down the slope into camp. He winced with every step, leaning heavily on her shoulder as they walked. 

“Dad!” Fogpaw beamed, her tail shooting up to greet him and he gave a pained smile and nod. 

“Focus,” whispered Slatepaw self-consciously, looking sidelong at her as she stayed focused on Goldenstar. Fogpaw laughed nervously and turned to sit upright like her sister. She would have to say hello to Ghost later. 

Goldenstar, at least, didn’t seem upset and continued without issue. “Today, we honor you both and how far you’ve come. I, Goldenstar, leader of RisingClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these two resilient apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn.” 

She hopped down from the Stoneperch to join them in front of the crowd, her head raised nobly, and said, “Fogpaw, Slatepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do,” they both said, exchanging an excited glance. 

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Slatepaw, from this moment on, you shall be known as Slateheart. StarClan honors your kindness and devotion to your Clan and we welcome you as a full warrior.” 

Goldenstar stepped forward and rested her chin on Slateheart’s head and Slateheart licked her shoulder as the warriors cheered her name. Fogpaw joined them, hoping to cheer the loudest of all. Slateheart blushed and preened under the praise as she stood back, tail swishing demurely over her paws. Fogpaw opened her mouth to congratulate her sister but Goldenstar turned to face her and continued the ceremony.

“Fogpaw,” she said, “from this moment on, you shall be known as Fogstalker. StarClan honors your bravery and conviction and we welcome you as a full warrior of RisingClan.” Purring, she dipped to lick Goldenstar’s shoulder and the crowd cheered again. Floodstrike in particular calling out her new name with enthusiasm. 

Fogstalker turned in a circle to see the crowd’s faces, to smile at her Clanmates. Scorchplume had a warm smile on her face that made her heart soar. Floodstrike, Barleybee, and Sparrowsway were all sitting side by side and Floodstrike grinned toothily as she looked at him. Near the back of the crowd, she could see Jagg and Ghost sitting together and Ghost was even smiling a little, although it looked almost like he was wincing. 

She turned to smile at Slateheart and her sister smiled back and that was when she realized that someone very important was missing. She looked at an empty space near the front of the crowd and tried to imagine her mother sitting there and smiling too but she couldn’t get the shapes to stay in place or look right. 

What did her mom look like again? Surely her face wasn’t exactly like Slatehearts, right? She frowned slightly and Slateheart seemed to realize what she was thinking, laying her tail over Fogstalker’s flank quietly. 

“Well!” Goldenstar’s voice pulled their attention back up to the front, “I know you just got back from training so why don’t you both get something to eat, take a bit of time to talk with your loved ones, and then you’ll start your silent vigil.”

“Wait,” Fogstalker blurted. Goldenstar blinked in surprise.

“Fogpaw!” Slateheart hissed quietly, only catching herself after she had said it. 

Fogstalker wasn’t deterred. “Goldenstar, I’ve been thinking and…” She glanced back over her shoulder at Scorchplume whose brow was furrowed uneasily. “I think I want to be a mediator. Like my mom.” The words felt right as she said them and she nodded confidently as she turned back to face Goldenstar. 

“You’re sure?” Goldenstar asked. “You don’t have to make that decision now, you know.”

“I know,” Fogstalker nodded, standing straighter. “I’m sure. I want to help people like she did. I want to be a mediator.”

“Well, in that case,” said the leader, straightening her own posture, “Fogstalker, you have chosen to take up the duties of a mediator. Do you swear to stand apart from the rivalry between Clans and cats and to strive to resolve disputes peacefully, even at the cost of your life?” 

Fogstalker took a deep breath and nodded. “I do.” The air was scintillating with magic and she could feel it prickling through her pelt. 

“Then by the powers of StarClan,” said Goldenstar, “I place this responsibility on your shoulders and welcome you as a mediator of RisingClan.” 

There was more cheering. Fogstalker couldn’t help but feel like this round of cheers was quieter. She looked around to find Scorchplume and Russetfrond both silent. Even Floodstrike was more subdued this time around. To her dismay, she realized that Slateheart wasn’t cheering either. She met her sister’s gaze in confusion and Slateheart looked away. 

“With that, our meeting is adjourned,” said Goldenstar to the crowd. “You two get something to eat, I’ll come grab you when it’s time for your vigil.” 

“Goldenstar,” Russetfrond grunted, stepping forward. “A word?”

Goldenstar sighed slightly but nodded, beckoning him towards her den with a curl of her tail. As they left, the crowd moved to congratulate the sisters but Fogstalker couldn’t help but lean in to Slateheart.

“Hey,” she whispered, “what’s wrong? Why weren’t you cheering for me? Are you angry?”

“No,” Slateheart whispered back. “I mean… why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know,” Fogstalker shrugged, “I didn’t tell anybody, I was just thinking it.”

“But we’re sisters,” said Slateheart, turning to study her face. “You should have-”

“Congrats you cuties!” Ospreymask interrupted cheerily, butting her head up against Fogstalker’s shoulder, causing her to bristle in surprise. “Your warrior names are so beautiful! I love them!”

“Thank you,” demurred Slateheart, leaning in to touch noses with the pregnant warrior. 

“Yeah…” Fogstalker hummed distractedly. She wasn’t done talking with Slateheart but, already, more people were swarming closer to try and get their attention, pulling them in different directions.

“Wow, a mediator!” Songdust said, “Your mother would be so proud, kiddo.” 

“Yeah?” Fogstalker smiled a little  as she turned to face the elder.

“Yeah,” nodded Songdust. “You’re gonna do amazing.”

Floodstrike stepped in to lay his tail over Fogstalker’s back. “You did it, Foggy. You managed to get a half decent warrior name.”

“Half decent!?” she exclaimed. “My name rules!”

“Agree to disagree,” Floodstrike said, winking to assure her it was a joke. She laughed and rubbed up against his chin. 

“You two should hurry up and eat,” she heard Sparrowsway saying. 

“Oh, right,” blushed Slateheart. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“Maybe we can share with dad!” Fogstalker gasped, turning to try and locate him through the crowd.

“I’ll grab you something,” said Barleybee, “go get settled.” 

Fogstalker didn’t need to be told twice. She slipped through the crowd, smiling and nodding as people gave her passing congratulations, and eventually broke away from the throng and bounded the last few tail lengths to meet him.

“Dad!” she purred, moving to rub her cheeks against his “I’m so glad you came! How did you know it was happening?” 

Ghost stiffened under her touch but managed to reciprocate after a moment. “Uh, Scorch told us to come.” 

“Really?” Fogstalker’s chest swelled with excitement. “That’s amazing!” 

“We wanted to be here for your big day,” Jagg smiled. “Congratulations, Fogstalker, a new name is a huge honor.” 

Slateheart padded up to join them then, smiling softly. “Thanks for coming, dad.” 

“Yeah,” Ghost cleared his throat awkwardly and shifted his weight with a wince. “Happy to be here.”

“You’re wincing a lot today,” Fogstalker observed. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“He just has a bit of arthritis,” explained Jagg. “He’ll be okay.”

Slateheart frowned. “Oh, we-” 

“We can have Oddstripe give you some herbs for that!” offered Fogstalker brightly. Slateheart lashed her tail once, gaze sinking.

“Thank you,” Jagg said, “both of you.” That made Slateheart smile a little and Fogstalker gave her a friendly nudge. 

Shortly after, Barleybee brought some prey across camp for them to share. Fogstalker enjoyed the conversation and the food but it was hard not to think about how Slateheart was upset with her. As Ghost and Jagg bid them farewell, sent home with some juniper berries for his joints, and the Clan dispersed for the night, she approached her sister and tried again.

“Hey, can we talk about earlier?” she asked.

“We have to start our silent vigil,” Slateheart said evasively. 

“Right, but we have a second before-”

“Fogstalker, it’s fine,” she said firmly, as if that ended the conversation. “Can we just forget it?”

Fogstalker frowned. “I… I guess, but-”

“Alright, girls,” Goldenstar said as she approached. “Are you ready for your vigil?”

“Yes,” said Slateheart and Fogstalker’s heart sank. 

“Yeah, I guess,” she shrugged.

“Alright,” smiled Goldenstar, although she seemed a bit concerned. “You’ll have to stay silent until the sun touches the Stoneperch, or in the case of emergency. Got it?”

“Got it,” they both said. 

“Good luck,” said Goldenstar. “Your vigil starts now.” She turned and headed back to her den and Fogstalker’s vision was drawn to where Scorchplume was waiting for her. She tilted her head curiously at her mentor as if to say, ‘why weren’t you cheering?’ and Scorch offered her a smile that was hard to read before slipping into the den. 

Fogstalker sighed and began to pace in a wide circle around camp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He held his breath. 

The wind shifted. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that smell?” she asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Floodstrike nodded seriously. “Got it.”

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

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

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

“Where?” asked Floodstrike, lifting his head.

“Shh!” hissed Branchbark. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Few days?” repeated the coyote questioningly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t hard to find her. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!” squealed Slatepaw, ecstatic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ghost is on his way!” grinned Fogpaw.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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