#sparrowsway

“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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Coyotes,” whispered Bogmist. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did it hit him?” Dawnbird asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll show him the way,” she said. 

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

“Will do,” said Songdust. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The siblings exchanged a worried glance. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Apparently,” Goldenstar laughed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not coming?” Oddstripe asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

After a long period of quiet stillness, a cat appeared on his left - Bluffpaw, Orangestar’s apprentice. 

“Move to the back of the barn, a clearing’s length away,” he whispered, “Stay down wind.” He slipped past Barleybee and repeated the message, proceeding down the frontline until his spotty ginger and white pelt disappeared into the dry grass. 

Floodstrike nodded to Sparrowsway, who returned the look, then twitched his tail for the cat behind him and started off towards the back of the ‘barn’. When they reached about a clearing’s worth of distance from the wooden structure, Floodstrike perked his ears and tasted the air carefully. The barn smelled of hay and old wood and various city cats and other animals. Closer by, he could smell Goldenstar, Orangestar, and one of the city cats he had met before, Schmidt’s brother if he remembered right. 

He glanced around quickly, decided that the barn was providing enough cover, and bounded in their direction. Sparrowsway hissed softly at him but he ignored his brother’s warning. As their scents grew closer, he slowed to a stealthy pace again and ended up coming up between Goldenstar and Orangestar, interrupting the conversation.  

“Floodstrike,” Goldenstar gasped softly. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he twitched an ear to dismiss her concern. “What’s the plan?” Goldenstar’s brow furrowed darkly.

“We’re just waitin’ on Sardine,” said the ginger kittypet. “Once he enters the barn, the cat up there will give y'all the signal and you’ll swing the trap shut.” He lifted his tail slightly to indicate a framed hole in the wall near the top of the building with a white furred kittypet sitting in it. The cat looked down and twitched their tail slightly in acknowledgement. 

“Floodstrike, go back to your position,” Goldenstar said sternly. 

“I want to be at the front of the push with you,” Floodstrike stated, ignoring her order. 

“Floodstrike, this is not up for debate,” she said more aggressively, her tail starting to arch behind her. “Go back to your position and wait for the signal.” 

“I deserve to get justice for my apprentice,” he snapped back. The kittypet’s gaze softened sympathetically. Orangestar looked deeply uncomfortable.

“You will,” Goldenstar hissed, rising up on her toes in a threatening display she had never used on him before, “but right now you will go back to your position and follow orders. This is not the time for a tantrum.” The words struck him sharply, along with the furious posture she had turned on him, and he wilted under it, all his determination dissipating like scattered leaves. 

“Right.” He swallowed, unsure how to feel. “Sorry, Goldenstar.” He saw a flicker of guilt cross her face but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Floodstrike turned tail and slank back towards the others. 

Softly, Orangestar cleared her throat and said, “Wes, you were saying?” 

When Floodstrike returned to his position, Sparrowsway was glaring at him. “What was that?” He hissed under his breath.

“Something stupid,” Floodstrike grumbled. 

“Yeah, no kidding,” scoffed his brother.

“Leave him alone,” he read Barleybee’s lips more than he heard her voice. “You know this is hard for him.” 

“Can we all just shut up and focus?” he said a bit louder than he meant to. 

The waiting was unbearable. Floodstrike looked up at the waxing moon and tried to catch it moving across the sky. Was it closer to the roof now than it was before? The stars laid muted under the glowing light from the city. He wondered if Lakepaw was watching him. He wondered if she was embarrassed to be his apprentice. 

His paws were cold. His inner ears ached from the dry chill in the air. He shook out his paws and kneaded loose clods of dirt with his claws to try and keep some feeling in his toes. When was that kittypet in the barn going to give them the signal?

After a while, Goldenstar slank out of the grass and approached him. “Floodstrike, we need to talk,” she said in hushed tones. 

“Okay,” he swallowed. 

Goldenstar glanced at the cats on either side of him before stepping in closer. “Look, I’m sorry I was so aggressive earlier. This is serious and I can’t have my warriors undermining me right now. We both know I let you get away with a lot of stuff and I need to stop doing that. You’re not my apprentice anymore, you’re a full warrior, and I need to treat you like one. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” he nodded sullenly. “I shouldn’t have come over in the first place. I just wanted to know what was going on.” 

“I know,” sighed Goldenstar. “Wes says Sardine is supposedly on his way so it shouldn’t be long. Just have patience.” And with that, she slipped away, farther along the line. Floodstrike grit his teeth in frustration but held his tongue. 

The time stretched on even longer. Messengers came through and told everyone to watch for the signal: a raised tail from the white cat in the barn window. Then they waited. It felt like forever as the night dragged slowly towards morning, the moon rising even higher above them. 

Then, there it was, a lift of the cat’s tail. Floodstrike leapt into action, darting swiftly but quietly forward and around the side of the barn towards the big entryway on the front. This was it, he thought, his heart starting to pound.

Inside, he could hear voices. The first was mocking but put together. “... really, Rudy, I’m hurt that you didn’t invite me to your little shindig. I had to hear about it through a friend of a friend.”

“Who’s that?” This voice was gruffer and deeper in, more muffled by the straw. 

“Oh, I shouldn’t kiss and tell,” said the first voice. “But they were very eager to sell you out, I’m afraid. It’s a shame, really. I was hoping our little game would be a little more interesting than this but it seems we’ve reached the end.” 

The second voice laughed. “Yeah, I bet you were hoping that.” Floodstrike’s speed had gotten him to the front of the barn faster than the rest of the front lines and he slowed down to wait for the others. 

The first voice said condescendingly, “You don’t seem to be understanding how the end is going to play out, Rudy. What, you think you can win this?” 

“Sure do,” said the second voice - Rudy. “I could beat you and your squad of little girls with my paws in boots.”

“Hah!” the first voice laughed. “I’d genuinely like to see you try, that sounds hilarious.” Russetfrond, Coyotechaser, Songdust, and Bogmist emerged from the grass beside Floodstrike and he nodded to them, letting Russetfrond take the lead as they rounded the corner. He didn’t want to disappoint Goldenstar by rushing things and ruining the ambush. 

Still, he was quick on the deputies’ heels, claws itching to see use. As they came around the corner, he spotted two loose groups of cats, one sitting in different positions around the barn, the other clustered near the entrance as if they had just entered. Near the back of that group were several toms with notched ears, all craning their necks to see what was going on. He recognized one of them by his scarred, sable pelt and his blood started to boil inside his veins. 

One of the chaff cats had his mouth open to scent the barn and he whipped around, suddenly able to taste the Clan cats on the wind. “Oh, shit!” Russetfrond collided with him and chaos broke over the crowd. 

“Savages!” went up the cry. 

“Seal off the exits!” shouted Coyotechaser, “Nobody gets out!” 

Several of the warriors took up positions in the entrance but Floodstrike had his eyes on Van Pelt. He lunged and slammed into the rogue claws first, tearing a nasty wound open over his shoulder. The rogue spat furiously and batted sharply at his head before they broke away and started to circle. The barn was filled with caterwauling and cats shouting to each other. 

Van Pelt laughed and declared, “Damn, kid! You turned into quite the beanpole!” He darted in to give Floodstrike a gash on his nose. “Never grew into your ears though.”

“I’m not some helpless apprentice anymore,” snarled Floodstrike as he tackled the rogue to the ground. 

“You fight like one!” laughed Van Pelt with a series of rabbit kicks. One caught Floodstrike hard in the gut and he tumbled away. Managing to roll to his feet, he just barely managed to leap out of the way of Van Pelt’s claws. He danced backward a few paces, then darted back in to swipe at his opponent's face, then turned to follow as Van Pelt twisted out of the way and went for his hind quarters. Floodstrike ducked low against the straw and waggled his hips before leaping, once again tackling Van Pelt to the ground. 

Together, they tumbled in a hissing, spitting clump of claws and teeth until Floodstrike’s back hit a metal shelf on the edge of the room hard and he cried out in pain. Van Pelt laughed his cruel, grating laugh and pressed his advantage, managing to score a deep cut on his soft belly. Floodstrike snarled and kicked the rogue hard in the face, rattling the metal things on the shelf with the force of it. Van Pelt stumbled back, cursing under his breath, and Floodstrike rolled off of the shelf and into a defensive crouch. 

“You brat!” Van Pelt spat, running a paw over his eye a few times. 

“Told you,” shrugged Floodstrike smugly. 

“You’re right,” Van Pelt’s eyes darted over the room beside them, “it’s just not as fun now that you’re all grown up.” He lunged to the side and Floodstrike braced himself in confusion, waiting for the lunge to turn into a feint but it didn’t. Too late, he saw what Van Pelt had been looking for. The rogue slammed into an unsuspecting Erminepaw, sinking his teeth into the apprentice as he took her to the ground. 

Floodstrike yowled, fear and anger erupting within him, and he dove after Van Pelt. His teeth found the rogue’s tail and he tugged sharply on it, allowing Erminepaw to squirm out of his claws. Van Pelt laughed and turned to swipe at Floodstrike only to spin and slash his claws across the apprentice’s side again as soon as Floodstrike let him go. 

“Leave them alone!” Floodstrike roared, rearing up to smack him roughly about the ears. 

“Touched a nerve, did I?” cackled the rogue, batting his paws out of the way. Erminepaw hesitated in their readied stance, glancing between Floodstrike and his opponent and where Boldmoth was struggling against a pair of her own rogues. 

“Go with her,” Floodstrike told her, “I’ve got this one.”

“Do you?” taunted Van Pelt. Erminepaw nodded regardless and leapt for the other fight. Van Pelt tried to snag her with his claws but Floodstrike swung a paw out and struck him in the front of the throat, stopping him dead in his tracks as he gagged and gasped for air. 

“Yeah, I think I do,” smirked Floodstrike, pressing his advantage to throw the rogue off balance and strike at his underbelly. “You think you’re so tough but you’re just a pathetic little bully!”

“Look who’s talking,” Van Pelt wheezed. Above them, the metal things on the shelf rattled violently as Boldmoth jumped and kicked off of it to land on top of one of her opponents and a set of big cylinders crashed to the ground with a hollow clang, nearly hitting Floodstrike in the head. He managed to twist out of the way, only to look up and see that Van Pelt was on his feet, leaping through the gap in the shelf to press against the wall. 

“You can’t get out that way,” Floodstrike growled, moving to block the edge where the shelf met the wall but Van Pelt just sneered at him. 

“Who says I'm running?” he said, rearing up to give the shelf a shove from behind. It wobbled and tipped, showering more metal cylinders on the cats fighting below. Erminepaw backed up against the shelf to avoid them and Floodstrike’s stomach twisted as an image of her crushed beneath its weight flashed into his mind. He sprang through the shelving and grabbed their scruff in his teeth, barreling out the other side into a bank of straw and dust. Behind him there was a mighty clatter and a cat screamed in pain. 

“Boldmoth!” cried Erminepaw. Floodstrike’s throat tightened. He wheeled around and there was Boldmoth, her back leg pinned beneath a red metal box. Beside her, a kittypet lay wheezing under the bulk of the shelf, his chest deformed from the impact. The other rogue Boldmoth had been fighting was trying to get him out to no success. Van Pelt was gone. 

“Fox dung,” Floodstrike hissed, hopping up over the shelf into the gap where Boldmoth was pinned. “Just hang on, Boldmoth, we’ll get you out.”

“It’s definitely broken,” she said through gritted teeth. 

“Help me push!” said Erminepaw, putting their paws up against the box. Floodstrike joined her and together they heaved against its side. The box was heavier than expected and Boldmoth cried out again, her tail bristling from the pain.

“Maybe we should wait for the healers,” Erminepaw swallowed. “We could mess it up more if we’re not careful!”

“No,” Boldmoth gasped, hunched over with her eyes shut tight. “I’m a sitting duck here. We don’t have time to wait.”

“One more shove should do it,” said Floodstrike. “Three, two, one-!” They heaved again, and with a loud ker-thunk! the box toppled over and off of Boldmoth’s crumpled leg. Floodstrike pressed up against her bad side and heaved her to her feet with his shoulder. “Easy… there we go. Come on.”

“Erminepaw can escort me,” she said, sounding strained, “you get back to the fight.”

“You’re sure?” he asked.

Another kittypet lunged in to fill the other’s space, lashing out with both claws, and she barely avoided losing an eye with a corkscrew twist. There were so many of them, jostling around each other claustrophobically. She danced backwards, using her long reach to her advantage as she skirted claws and teeth and threw in a strike here or there. 

One of the kittypets struck hard in the elbow and she limped backwards only for another to lunge in and topple her onto her back again. She hissed and kicked out but this one didn’t give. He sank his teeth into her shoulder and she cried out in pain. The other cat was snapping at her tail. The number of cats was overwhelming, threatening to shut her brain down entirely which was terrifying. She could feel her thoughts spiraling out of control, wondering where Slatepaw was or if Songdust would be able to keep up with the amount of enemies. 

“Barley!” Yarrowshade’s voice snapped her back into the here and now. With a painful tug on her shoulder, the cat on top of her was tackled to the side and she managed to focus long enough to kick the other kittypet hard in the face. She stood and found herself back to back with Yarrowshade, relief flooding through her from every inch of him that pressed up against her. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“Fine,” she said without looking at him. The kittypet prowled in front of her, looking for a gap in her defense. 

“Get off me!” Yellowkit’s voice screamed above the din and it took all of her restraint not to turn her head towards the sound. 

“The kits,” she gasped.

“Go,” Yarrowshade said, “They need you.” She didn’t wait. Darting sideways, she wove around the thronging combatants, Yarrowshade snarling behind her. She moved as quickly as she could to the nursery, managing to leap and spring past any attacks that came her way until she came upon a smoky tabby hoisting Yellowkit by his scruff, another cat’s tail twitching in the entryway to the nursery as Bluekit screamed inside. 

“Back off!” Barleybee roared, smacking the tabby as hard as she could across the face. There was a righteous satisfaction in the resistance of his flesh against her claws. He reeled and Yellowkit managed to pull out of his grasp. 

“Help!” he wailed, trying to crawl underneath her, which wasn’t exactly helpful. 

“Get in the nursery!” she ordered, landing another sharp blow on the tabby’s head. Yellowkit nodded and rushed past her into the den. Barleybee turned quickly, hoping the tabby stayed down, and latched her teeth into the other rogue’s leg, yanking him backwards until his hindquarters were out of the den. Bluekit screamed even louder and Barleybee gave another frantic tug. 

“What the-” The kittypet wheeled around and swiped at her but she tumbled under the blow and into the nursery. Twisting onto her feet, she slashed at his eyes driving him backwards into the clearing. The two kittypets loomed close, glaring at her but she arched her back and did her best to block the entryway with her body. 

“Bluekit, are you hurt?” she asked over her shoulder.

“No, ma’am,” the kit said, voice trembling. 

“Good,” she nodded. “Both of you stay at the back of the den.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” cried Bluekit.

“Okay,” Yellowkit sniffled. 

“Out of the way, girl,” growled the second rogue, a burly, fawn-colored tom in a green collar.

“No way,” hissed Barleybee. 

“We’re just here for the kits,” said the smoke tabby, much calmer, as if they weren’t in the middle of a bloodbath. “They belong in the city with their mother. It’s wrong to keep them separated like this, surely you can see that.” 

“They’re happy where they are,” she said. “Touch them again and I’ll make you pay for it.” The tabby’s eyes darkened with thought. The fawn tom lunged. 

Barleybee had been waiting and she braced herself against his weight as he tried to shove her backwards into the den, paws skidding in the dirt. She wrapped her paws around his neck and sank her teeth into his cheek, twisting her head with her jaw clamped firmly around his flesh. He hissed in pain, twisted his head with hers to avoid the worst of the pain, and ended up losing his balance, forced to fall back. Barleybee gave him a few more claw wounds to send him on his way. 

The tabby moved in and reared up to swipe at her. Barleybee could tell by his stance that he would be easy to tackle but she ignored the temptation, instead swatting his paws out of the air before they could reach her face. He dropped back down, scowling, and she smirked in return. 

“Nice try,” she said. “I’m not moving.” 

“You’re smart,” said the tabby, “I’ll give you that.” Barleybee couldn’t help but be flattered, even if the cat complimenting her was despicable. When she realized it, her chest seized with panic. Was that a trick? Was he trying to get her to drop her guard with flattery? Had she already made a fatal mistake? She squared her stance, ears pressed back against her head, and bared her teeth. The smoky tabby’s tail twitched irritably. 

“London!” a voice hissed, “What’s the hold up?” Slinking in from the edge of the clearing came a small brown tabby with a dark mask and a silver collar. He glared at the smoky tabby for a beat before turning his cruel green gaze on Barleybee. 

“They’re big kits,” London said. “It’s not so easy to drag them off.” 

“Besides,” growled the fawn cat, “this bitch is blocking the door.” 

“She’s one girl!” the new tabby snapped, tail bristling. “Do your jobs already! Casper and I have already finished ours.” 

“If you’re so competent, do it yourself,” the fawn cat’s lip curled. The masked tabby’s gaze turned venomous. Barleybee took the chance to catch her breath, ears and eyes alert for any sign that one of them was about to move. She had to anticipate their attacks, had to be ready for anything. Yellowkit and Bluekit were counting on her.

Suddenly a new chorus of yowls broke out from the north-west. The movement of the battle shifted, turning towards the flood of cats that was pouring into the clearing. Barleybee’s eyes widened as she saw Snowstar and Orangestar clawing their way side by side into the heart of the fighting. 

“Reinforcements,” London hissed under his breath, his thick fur brushing up. 

“Quickly!” spat the masked tabby. “Let’s grab the kits and leave already!” 

The fawn cat lunged for Barleybee again and this time he took her to the ground. Yellowkit and Bluekit screamed in chorus as he slammed her onto her back. She kicked as hard as she could, trying to tear up his belly, and he twisted off of her, leaving claw marks on her shoulders. 

The nursery had been breached. London darted in over her, moving straight for the kits, only to be suddenly pulled backward by his tail. He yowled in pain, twisted around and slashed at Russetfrond but the deputy held fast to his tail. With another yank, he dragged London back out, stripping a section of his tail of fur. 

“You again,” the masked tabby grumbled, dropping low into a crouch. Russetfrond growled around the tail in his mouth. 

Barleybee quickly rolled to her feet and lunged for the rogue inside the nursery, tearing his fawn pelt in her claws as she chased him up against one of the walls. He kicked her hard in the belly and she stumbled back, trying to make her body as big of a barrier between him and the kittens as she could, but, to her surprise, he took the opportunity to slip through the entrance and take off into the night.

“Coward!” shouted the masked tabby. 

London had finally managed to get Russetfrond to let go of his tail and now he backed up next to the smaller cat. “I think it’s time to go.” Barleybee quickly moved to block the entrance again. Outside, the battlefield had changed dramatically. Now outnumbered, the city cats were starting to fall back one by one, only making the remaining rogues more outnumbered with every second. 

“Sardine, right?” Russetfrond growled, prowling forward. “You’re not going anywhere this time.” Appearing from the crowd, Sparrowsway hissed his agreement and moved to cut off the rear. The masked tabby -- Sardine, it seemed -- glanced warily at both of them, shifting into a smaller, defensive stance. London growled and turned to keep an eye on Sparrowsway, his tail twitching threateningly back and forth. 

A white shape slammed into Russetfrond’s side, pushing him off his feet. The deputy swayed, caught himself, and lurched back at the snub-nosed kittypet who had attacked him. The rogue’s face was drenched in blood, a crimson streak stark against his glossy white fur. Barleybee shuddered at the sight. Whose blood had he spilt? Was it someone she knew? 

“Just in time, Casper,” Sardine purred smugly. He sprang towards Barleybee and she braced herself only to realize he was leaping up over her head to escape. Sparrowsway lunged after him but London tackled him out of the air and they rolled away, hissing violently as they clawed at each other. Barleybee bunched her legs to go after Sardine but froze. She glanced over her shoulder at the kittens huddled frightfully against the wall of the nursery. They stared at her with matching pairs of wide, glistening copper eyes. 

What if she left and they were kitnapped because of her? But wasn’t catching the leader of the city cats a top priority? Her ears fell back against her head as she realized that in her indecision she had made her choice. Swallowing, she braced herself in the entryway again. London and Casper had detached themselves from their opponents in the time she’d spent waffling and fled after their leader. Russetfrond snarled after them for a moment, then his gaze fell on her and he hurried over. 

“Are they alright?” he asked, peering over her shoulder.

“Yes, they’re safe,” she stepped to the side and pressed herself up against the wall to let him in.

“Father!” Bluekit wailed and rushed to press his face into Russetfrond’s fur. Yellowkit was close behind and Barleybee’s chest swelled with emotion as Russetfrond crouched down over his kits and ran his tongue over their pelts. 

“Did they hurt you?” he growled, checking their bellies and sides for wounds.

“They didn’t hurt us,” Bluekit shook his head.

“They were trying to take us away!” Yellowkit sobbed. 

“Those foxhearts,” Russetfrond snarled, curling tightly around his sons. “I’ll make them pay for that.” 

“That’s the last one!” Branchbark’s voice called out. Things had quieted somewhat but the camp was still noisy with the sound of EarthClan and SkyClan’s warriors. 

Stormwhisper leapt up on the Stoneperch and called, “Everyone with a serious injury, please gather over on the big flat stone there! Everyone else, please disperse so that we can tend to the wounded.” The crowd slowly began to separate and drift away from each other. 

Coyotechaser barked, “Someone help me take this kittypet out of camp and bury him.” Beneath her paws lay a tabby and white kittypet with glazed over expression. 

“I’ll help,” said Pantherhaze, limping over to her. Together, they started dragging the body out of camp, thank StarClan. Barleybee sighed, stepped away from the nursery, content that the kittens were safe, and padded over to Sparrowsway. 

He looked her over and asked, “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded. She had her fair share of claw marks and a bite or two but nothing that needed immediate attention. “You?” 

“I’m fine,” he nodded. “I can’t believe they attacked during the gathering. Mystique must have told them about it.” He glared at the dirt, kneading his claws in frustration. Barleybee frowned worriedly. 

“I guess so…” she mumbled. Self-consciously, she straightened out a few of her feathers that had been knocked askew in the fight. She was certain that a few had fallen out. She’d have to find another cardinal to replace them…

A sudden scream cut through the air. Barleybee’s hackles shot up and her eyes darted across the camp to where Fogpaw was quickly backing out of the healers’ den. The apprentice’s fur stood on end, making her a white puff ball, and her tail arched sharply down behind her, ears pressed against her head. 

“What is it?” Scorchplume bounded over to her and searched her face. Fogpaw shook her head, staring unfocused into the mouth of the den. “Fogpaw, what’s wrong?” Fogpaw shook her head some more, this time meeting Scorch’s gaze, and burst into tears, flinging herself into her mentor’s chest. Scorchplume stiffened and very gingerly pulled the apprentice close, staring at Goldenstar for help. Goldenstar, standing by her den with Orangestar and Snowstar, looked just as lost and extremely concerned. 

After a moment, Floodstrike stepped out of the healer’s den, his paws drenched in thick, dark blood. He looked angrier than Barleybee had ever seen him and his eyes were red with tears. Dread gripped her chest tightly in its claws as the whole clearing held its breath. 

“Sagetooth and Lakepaw are dead,” he said hoarsely. “The herb stores are destroyed.” 

“Oh, stars,” Barleybee breathed. They’d been sick. Undefended. An overwhelming wave of crushing guilt fell over her. She should have known. She should have gone to help them. Someone else would have saved the kittens, she should have rescued Lakepaw. She started to cry as well, paws shaking as the adrenaline crash consumed her. 

“No,” Branchbark sobbed. Quickly, he hurried past Floodstrike into the healers’ den, jostling Floodstrike who failed to step out of the way. 

“Bogmist!” Stormwhisper stood up from where he had been inspecting Ospreymask’s wounds. “I need cobwebs and sorrel right now.” The EarthClan deputy nodded and took off towards the woods. Stormwhisper looked at the nearest non-RisingClan warrior and said, “You! I need fresh moss and water from the river. Go!” Nodding dutifully, Pebblefall leapt to their feet and dashed off into the fields. 

“Floodstrike,” Sparrowsway started towards his brother but Floodstrike turned his head away and stalked out of camp. Sparrowsway paused and looked back at Barleybee. 

She swallowed, sniffed, and said, “I’ll talk to him.” Quickly, she strode across camp to follow him. She caught up with him at the bottom of the hill on the southern side of camp, calling, “Floodstrike, wait!”

“I’m going to kill them,” he spat through tears, still walking. “I’m going to kill every single one of those monsters.”

“Wh- Now?” Barleybee asked, following his gaze towards the glowing orange of the distant city lights. “Floodstrike, that’s impossible! You’re going to get yourself killed!” 

“So what?” he rounded on her, tears streaking down his cheeks. “I have to do something! She needed me and I let her die! I failed her!” 

“You couldn’t have known!” Barleybee pleaded. “It’s not your fault, Floodstrike.” 

“She was my apprentice,” he sniffed harshly. “She looked up to me -- stars, she was so young! She was my little girl and they killed her!”

“I know,” Barleybee’s tears were flowing freely now. “I know, Floodstrike. But trying to take revenge isn’t going to make you feel any better. It will only make you a killer too.” 

“I’m not doing this for me!” he hissed, tail arching, “I’m doing this for her! She’s watching! She deserves to know I’m not just going to accept what they did to her!” 

“She wouldn’t want you to do this,” Barleybee stepped closer. “She was so sweet and kind. She would want you to move on and heal, Floodstrike. Please, come back to camp with me.” She watched his face for a good, long moment. His eyes were blazing with fury and red with grief. His throat rippled with effort. Eventually, he grit his teeth and looked down at his paws, chest shuddering with sobs, and sat down. Barleybee sat down next to him and pressed her head against his. 

“I… I can’t believe she’s gone,” he whispered between breaths. 

“I’m so sorry,” Barleybee pressed firm licks to his cheeks. “I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have to be this way.” Something about that caused him to break down even harder and he collapsed into her side. Barleybee wrapped her arms around his neck and eased him down to the ground. The two of them lay there, holding each other, and Barleybee tried to convince herself that, at the very least, if she couldn’t be there for Lakepaw it was good that she could be there for Floodstrike. 

The thought rang hollow and she spent the rest of the night thinking of what she could have done differently -- what she should have done differently. When they went back for the vigil, she whispered an apology to Lakepaw’s body. When they found white and dark tabby fur under Lakepaw’s claws, Barleybee knew exactly who was responsible but held off on telling Floodstrike. When they went to bed, she, Sparrowsway, and Oddstripe curled tightly around Floodstrike in a single nest, weary eyed and worn. 

“I bet,” Barleybee laughed. “She must be if she can get you to stop talking yourself up!” 

“Hey,” he laughed and bounced playfully towards her with a few swipes that she effortlessly dodged. 

“She’s very talented,” Sparrowsway agreed with a fond smile at their shenanigans. “It’s good to see you taking something this seriously.” 

“I take everything the right amount of seriously,” Floodstrike shot back. 

“That’s highly debatable,” hummed Sparrowsway. Floodstrike rolled his eyes and kicked up his pace to reach the thunderpath first. The evening air was still thick with the day’s heat near its surface. He squinted into the waves of warmth and opened his mouth to scent the strange stone. The smell was pungent but he almost enjoyed it for some reason.

“Careful,” Barleybee called nervously. “Remember, we’re not supposed to cross.” 

“I know, I know,” he said, looking over his shoulder as he took a step back to put her at ease. “I just wanted to see if there was anything interesting up here.”

“Interesting like what?” Sparrowsway frowned. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, trotting back down the hill. “Yarrowshade says he found Scorchplume on the thunderpath, right? Maybe we’ll find someone who needs help or something.” 

“Or someone who’s crowfood,” said Sparrowsway. 

“You’re such a downer,” Floodstrike rolled his eyes. “Russetfrond really drained the fun out of you, didn’t he?” 

“He taught me how to be realistic,” huffed Sparrowsway in a way that wasn’t not like Russetfrond. Floodstrike raised a skeptical brow in his direction. 

“Maybe the thunderpath is an appropriate time to put ‘the fun’ aside,” Barleybee tried gently. 

Floodstrike groaned, although it was mostly for show, “Fine, fine. Enough blabbing. Let’s hunt, yeah?” 

“Yes, please,” Sparrowsway said. Barleybee purred. 

Together, they walked along the hillside by the thunderpath, seeking out the small creatures that were starting to emerge from their hidey-holes for the night, only interrupted once or twice by the sudden roar of a monster and the rush of wind nearly tearing them off their feet. They weren’t particularly lucky as far as hunting went but Barleybee still managed to root out a few catches and Sparrowsway even helped with one. 

Frustrated, Floodstrike walked back up to the top of the small slope to look out over the thunderpath at the sparkling mass of lights in the distant twolegplace. It was then that he spotted something interesting -- a pair of yellow eyes blinking from the grass diagonally across the thunderpath from him. 

“Hey,” he said instinctively, straightening up, and the cat on the other side of the road flinched and turned to look at him. 

“What is it?” he heard Barleybee call. 

“Floodstrike!” The cat stepped out onto the thunderpath with a wide smile on her face. 

“Luna?” he gaped. 

“Yes!” purred the kittypet, slinking out to stand on the bold yellow lines in the middle of the path. “Oh, this is so lucky! I was coming to look for you, I wanted to-” 

“Monster!” shouted Sparrowsway from behind him and Floodstrike looked up to see the dim glow of a massive monster rapidly approaching behind Luna on the thunderpath. The fur on his spine shot up immediately and before he knew what was happening he was lunging for her. 

“Move!” he cried, grabbing her collar in his teeth and pulling her towards his side of the path. The sound of the beast was overwhelming, a rumbling roar that shook through his ribcage. Luna’s eyes were wide in fear as she stumbled towards him. 

“No, get down!” she cried, wrapping her paws around his neck and pulling him sideways onto the still warm stones. He panicked, and tried to stand but she threw her torso over his head and pinned him to the ground just in time for the roar of the beast to thunder over their bodies, washing them with hot gusts of wind. Floodstrike’s stomach tightened terribly as his body prepared for the blow he was certain was coming, but as soon as it had come, the wind was gone and the cool night air flooded back in to surround them. 

Sparrowsway and Barleybee weren’t far behind. 

“Oh, stars, are you okay?” his sister cried out. “Floodstrike, are you okay?” 

It was then that Floodstrike processed that he was face deep in Luna’s belly and he flushed and squirmed out from underneath her. She seemed to realize at the same time and scrambled away from him, stuttering out mumbled apologies. 

“I- I’m fine,” he blushed, shaking the feel of the thunderpath from his fur.

“Let’s get off the thunderpath, okay?” Sparrowsway said and Floodstrike nodded, wrapping his tail around Luna to guide her over to their side of the grass. 

“I’m so sorry!” she said as they went, “I shouldn’t have stopped on the road like that! I could have gotten you killed! But- Oh, you tried to save me! You did save me!” Luna leaned in to his side and looked up at him wondrously. 

“Uh, it was nothing,” he said, captivated by her expression. 

Sparrowsway cleared his throat pointedly. 

“Besides,” said Floodstrike, taking a small step away from her, “you saved me too. We’re even.” 

“What are you doing here, Luna?” Sparrowsway asked sternly. “I thought you said it was too dangerous for you to come visit us.” 

“Clearly,” Barleybee mumbled under her breath, still shaken it seemed. 

“I had to!” Luna said, curling her tail around her body as she suppressed a shiver. “I had to know if you’d really killed Bella!” 

“What?” Sparrowsway frowned. 

“Yeah, wait,” Floodstrike shook his head, “Bellaswan’s dead?” 

“Mhm,” Luna nodded, her mouth a tiny line, eyes wide. “They found her body yesterday. She went out to the wild territories and somebody killed her! Her friends Minerva and Tinkerbell too!” 

The three siblings exchanged serious glances. 

“And the city thinks we were responsible?” Sparrowsway asked. Luna nodded. “Why?” 

“Their collars were all torn and thrown in a pile,” Luna said. “Sardine is saying it was a message that you’re going to start invading our lands next.” 

“That’s it?” said Sparrowsway in disbelief. “That’s the only evidence?” 

“Wasn’t this Bellaswan challenging Sardine for leadership?” Barleybee said darkly. 

“Yeah,” nodded Floodstrike. “Definitely suspicious.” 

“And I just couldn’t believe you would do that,” Luna said, looking at him. “You were all so kind when you came to visit, I knew you couldn’t be behind that kind of thing. I’m so glad I was right.” 

Floodstrike smiled awkwardly. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he would have gladly torn out Bellaswan’s throat after what he’d heard about her run in with Fogpaw and Slatepaw -- after her behavior at the snow storm battle, even. Honestly, the news was a relief. One less threat to worry about. 

“This isn’t good,” Barleybee said, much to his confusion. “We should tell Goldenstar right away.” 

“Agreed,” Sparrowsway said. “Luna, will you be alright getting home on your own?” 

“Oh, she doesn’t have to go right now, does she?” Floodstrike said. “She nearly died just now, she can stick around until she feels a little better.” 

“She seems fine to me,” Sparrowsway scowled. 

Luna stepped back into Floodstrike’s side and leaned against him, batting her lashes. “No, no, Floodstrike’s right. I’d love to stay just a while longer, if that’s okay. I… I don’t feel brave enough to cross the road again just yet.” She bit her lip and glanced between the two of them. Sparrowsway scowled deeper. 

“It’s fine,” Barleybee muttered to him. “She can stay here with Floodstrike while we go report in.” 

“Absolutely not,” Sparrowsway hissed under his breath. “Do you want another Mystique situation?” 

“That’s none of my business,” Barleybee lifted her head. “But fine, stay if you want. I know the least about all of this stuff but I can make the report by myself.” 

Sparrowsway’s ears pressed back in a put upon expression. “Damn it, Barley.” She shrugged apathetically in response. Sparrowsway glanced over at Floodstrike -- who was equally displeased that they were having this conversation like he wasn’t right there -- then at Luna, then sighed. 

“Fine, I’ll go with you,” Sparrowsway said as if she had twisted his leg. “Floodstrike, I’m sure you’ll be on your best behavior.” 

“Bruh, relax,” he replied snappishly. “Worry about yourself.” Sparrowsway looked like he was going to make another comment but held his tongue. 

“Come on,” said Barleybee and the two of them headed off, back towards camp. As they went, she called over her shoulder, “And stay off the thunderpath!” 

“What did he mean, ‘another Mystique situation’?” Luna asked softly, smiling confusedly up at Floodstrike.

“His mentor had kits with Mystique by accident,” he whispered back. “Apparently if he leaves us alone I’ll take you to nest immediately or something.” He rolled his eyes. “Just ignore Sparrowsway, he’s a stickler about everything.” 

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Luna laughed, stretching forward until her back legs were straight out behind her. “It means he thinks I’m pretty.” She smirked coyly at him and asked, “do you think I’m pretty?” 

Floodstrike blushed. What were you supposed to say to that? 

“I mean, yeah, definitely,” he ended up saying. Was that too strong? Luna seemed to like it at least. She rolled her steps forward out of her stretch and ducked her head demurely. 

“You’re very sweet, Floodstrike,” she said. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” 

“Not really,” he shook his head. “It’s mostly just my sister here. I don’t know that many girls.” Well, there’s Fishtrick and Boldmoth, he thought, but surely they don’t count. They were both very pretty, though, now that he was thinking about it. 

“Oh,” she said, her mouth a perfect little oh for a beat after she said it. Then she blinked and purred, “Well, don’t I feel special then!” She curled back around to butt her chin underneath his, the purr rumbling up through his jaw, and he stiffened. Maybe Sparrowsway was right to be worried. He swallowed, which was surprisingly difficult, and pulled away from her with a nervous laugh.

“Right, uh, maybe I should walk you home,” he said. 

“You don’t want to spend more time with me?” Luna’s expression fell. 

“No, no!” he hurried to reassure her, “I just, uh- I don’t think this is a very good idea.” 

“What’s not a very good idea?” she asked and he couldn’t tell if her innocence was feigned or not. 

“Look, you’re very sweet and pretty and everything,” he said, fumbling for an explanation as to why he suddenly wanted out of this very enticing scenario, “but uh, I shouldn’t get… involved like that. With you.” 

“Isn’t that what makes it exciting?” she chewed her lip and dragged one paw idly through the dirt. “A forbidden romance between star crossed lovers -- the Exalted and the Wild Cat?” 

Floodstrike squirmed uncomfortably. “I- I’m sorry, Luna. Clearly you’ve been, uh, thinking about this but I’m just not… ready.” It wasn’t the right word, not exactly. He wasn’t ready for this kind of thing but more importantly he felt like ants were crawling in his pelt for some reason and his stomach wouldn't stop twisting. 

Luna frowned softly and sighed. “Okay. I understand.” She ran a few self-conscious licks over her ears. “I’ll go home.” 

“Do you want me to escort you?” he asked, worried despite the nerves eating him from the inside out. 

“No, that’s alright,” she sighed, starting up the hill. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to. But, um,” she paused on the top of the hill to look back at him, “if you ever do want to hang out, my house is the first one on the edge of town on the left. You can stop by any time.” 

“Yeah, okay,” he said, his stomach fluttering. She smiled, lashes batting against her cheeks, and then looked both ways and darted across the thunderpath and into the night. Floodstrike swallowed and sat still for a while, trying to untangle the weird knot inside him. He had no idea why Luna made him feel so… high strung. Shaking his head, he got up and collected the prey Barleybee had cached earlier and headed to camp. 

As he walked down into the clearing, he saw Goldenstar, Scorchplume, and Russetfrond muttering in a small circle by the Stoneperch. Barleybee and Sparrowsway were loitering nearby and Barleybee noticed Floodstrike as he came in. He dropped the prey on the pile and then slank over to join them.

“Oh, thanks for grabbing those,” she said quietly. 

“No problem,” he said. 

“You came back sooner than I was expecting,” hummed Sparrowsway.

Floodstrike felt his hackles rising, just a bit. “Yeah, well maybe you should readjust your opinion of me. I told you I’d be fine.” Sparrowsway pursed his lips and looked away, clearly feeling guilty. 

“It’s fine if you’re interested in Luna,” Barleybee said.

“In what way?” Sparrowsway huffed, unable to resist. Floodstrike raised his brows in curiosity. 

“It’s not breaking the code to have those kinds of relationships with outsiders,” she told them. “No one gave Smokyrose any grief for having kits with Ghost.”

“That’s not true,” Floodstrike said.

“Sagetooth definitely did,” Sparrowsway finished his thought for him. 

“Well, she just didn’t like Smokyrose very much, did she,” shrugged Barleybee. Floodstrike’s ears fell backwards. That felt very rude to say but he couldn’t exactly argue. 

“Anyway,” Barleybee continued, “the only reason Russetfrond’s situation was a problem was because Mystique was an enemy prisoner. Luna’s an ally of ours.”

“So is EarthClan but that wouldn’t make an affair with one of their warriors okay,” said Sparrowsway stubbornly. 

“The important part of the code is that your loyalty has to remain to your Clan,” Barleybee said, lifting her tail authoritatively. “The only reason mates across Clans are forbidden is because it makes a conflict of interest if the Clans ever go to battle against each other. So as long as Floodstrike could theoretically keep his loyalties to RisingClan first, it wouldn’t be an issue.” 

“Hey, cool, can we stop debating this like I’m a training exercise or something?” Floodstrike grumbled, his tail twitching at the tip.

“What I’m saying,” Barleybee pressed, “is do what you want, Flood. If you think she’s cute then go for it.” 

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Sparrowsway groaned. 

“Well, I’m not interested,” Floodstrike bristled. “Can we drop it?” 

Barleybee blinked in surprise. “Oh. Oh, okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“It’s fine,” he sighed. 

“Stars, I’m sorry,” she continued.

“It’s fine, Bee,” he said, “Really. I just… don’t wanna talk about her.” 

“Alright,” Barleybee said quietly, her big ears pressing back against her skull. Floodstrike pursed his lips tightly, feeling terrible. He leaned in and nuzzled his little sister’s shoulder. She inclined her head into the touch, wrapping one paw over his leg, and purred tiredly. 

“They’re done talking,” Sparrowsway whispered and Floodstrike looked up to see Goldenstar’s little meeting coming to an end. Russetfrond marched off to the warrior’s den and started calling for warriors to go on a patrol. Scorchplume slipped into Goldenstar’s den with a glance over her shoulder, looking troubled. Goldenstar looked over at the three young warriors and smiled, padding over to them. 

“What’s the word?” Barleybee asked, pulling apart from her brother again. 

“Scorch is pretty certain that Sardine made a power play and blamed us for the murder as a way to get the war started again,” said Goldenstar. “We’re going to send runners to the other Clans just in case and keep an eye on the border. Other than that, I’m not sure what else we can do. I’d like to talk to Schmidt but it’s too dangerous to go deep into the city like last time.” 

“We could go to Luna’s,” Floodstrike offered immediately.

“Oh?” asked Goldenstar. 

“It’s right on the edge of the city,” he said, feeling Sparrowsway’s eyes on him. “I bet she could go get Schmidt and bring him there.”

“Hmm,” Goldenstar hummed, studying him. “I’ll talk to Scorchplume about it. Thanks for the suggestion, Floodstrike.” 

“Yeah,” he said, blushing. “No problem.” 

Goldenstar nodded to the three of them and headed off to her den. Floodstrike sighed in relief. 

“Hey! Flood-bud!” Lakepaw ran up to them from the apprentices den. “Are we going to war again?” Her eyes studied his face with the same open curiosity that she always wore. Despite the serious topic, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Looks like it, kiddo,” he said. 

“Gotcha,” she frowned, looking off to the side. He watched her pupils flicker over something in the distance for a moment, her quick-moving thoughts displayed on her face. Then she looked up and said, “We should probably do some more battle training, huh?” 

“Sure, it definitely wouldn’t hurt,” he said. “You wanna go right now?” 

“If that’s okay,” she nodded. 

“I don’t see why not,” he shrugged, rolling to his feet. He glanced over either shoulder at his siblings. “Either of you wanna come?” 

“No, I’m gonna see if Russetfrond needs anything,” said Sparrowsway.

“Nah, I’m not particularly good at fighting,” Barleybee said. “You guys go enjoy yourselves.” 

“Alright,” he shrugged. “Come on then, kiddo, let’s hit the training grounds.”