#speckleflight

“My eyes! He took my eyes!” The rogue leader howled, his voice echoing in the small cave until it sounded as though a thousand ghosts were lamenting alongside him. “I can’t see!”

“It was an unlucky claw strike.” Yellowfang murmured sadly as she turned away and began to paw herbs down from her collection to tend to him. “Why did you try and hold him back? You could not keep him safe from those rogues.”

“Keep him safe?” Brokentail barked, his voice a mixture of astonishment and fury. “Why would I want to keep that miserable rat safe? If not for him and these pathetic excuses for warriors, I would still be Shadowclan’s leader! I could have ruled the whole forest!”

The old healer paused, her paw hovering near a red flower, dulled by time; a poppy flower, he recognized after a moment. “They have protected you. They took you in and kept you safe, just as they did for me.”

“And I didn’t ask for it!” The tabby exile spat furiously, whipping his head in what he thought was Yellowfang’s direction. “I’d be better off dead than being watched over by these weakling kittypet sympathizers! At least then I wouldn’t have to suffer the constant indignity of being taken care of by a traitorous sack of bones like you!”

Fireheart winced at the insults being flung Yellowfang’s way. Part of him wanted to step forward and interrupt, but he knew that Yellowfang would never forgive him for defending her when she could defend herself. She was a proud Shadowclanner, even if she had left them for Thunderclan territory, and he didn’t dare take that from her in front of her own son.

The healer’s paw withdrew from the poppy seeds, evidently deciding that he didn’t need any herbs for his pain. It was for the best, he figured, given the wounds that needed treatment outside. “I warned you, when you first became leader, that if you did not temper your ambition and pride it would lead you to ruin.” She told him softly as she gathered up the other herbs. “There is no shame in admitting defeat, Brokentail. You can still find peace-”

“I don’t want peace! Look around you! See what peace has done for these flea-brains, who refuse to kill even their enemies!” Brokentail snarled, his namesake lashing bitterly against the moss beneath him. “Power is all that matters! Not that I expect a healer like you to ever understand, with your useless flowers and ramblings about Starclan!” 

Yellowfang reached her paw into another cubby, one Fireheart couldn’t see from his vantage point. “These useless flowers have saved lives. They can straighten bone, blot out infection, and create life - or take it, if need be.” She told him, her voice suddenly cold and lacking the gentle warmth that it always did when she was speaking to her son.

“Can they bring back my sight?” The prisoner retorted, his ears pinned back as he glared in her general direction.

“They can.” The old queen murmured softly to her son, but there was an ice in her voice that made Fireheart shiver uncomfortably. “Here. Take these seeds. They will give you what you need.”

She set down a large, flat leaf in front of him, with a small collection of round dark seeds on top. Poppy seeds? No, these had to be something else - but Fireheart didn’t have enough knowledge of herbs to identify them, especially from this far away. As he watched, she took one of the old rogue’s paws and guided it to where the leaf sat. 

It took him several moments to find the seeds, but once he did, he lapped them up eagerly. “Finally, you prove to have some use after all.” Brokentail growled as he swallowed them down. “How long until I can see again?”

“You’ll see soon enough.” Yellowfang promised, keeping her copper eyes focused on him. She didn’t move to take care of his other wounds, even though Fireheart could see several painful looking cuts along the former tyrant’s flank. “I wish you could have seen that power is not the only thing that matters in life. The warriors of Thunderclan understand that.”

She took a deep, painful-looking breath as she looked down at her son, who was clumsily beginning to clean himself. “They took me and the elders in, even though they did not have to, because it was the right thing to do. They made me feel as though I belonged, even though I was not born one of them. They could have done the same for you, in time.”

“Do I look like I care what those fools think?” He paused, spitting out a wad of matted fur in her direction before continuing to clean himself.

“No.” She admitted with a sigh as she got to her paws. “I know you care for nothing but yourself, Brokentail. Not the code, nor your Clan, nor even your own kin.”

The outlaw’s lip curled in something resembling a grin. “Are you still on about Raggedstar? That old crow was stifling the Clan. Don’t pretend as if you cared for him any more than I did.”

“Oh, but I did.” Yellowfang mewed, a gentleness trickling back into her tone at the thought of her old mate. “I loved him fiercely, and I know he would have died for me, had I asked him to. It was because of that love that I bore him a son. I often wonder how much would have changed, if I had chosen to raise him instead of that snake-hearted queen…”

The tabby rogue made a grotesque hacking noise at her words. “Spiders have spun webs in your skull, you old bat. I am Raggedstar’s only heir. Besides, healers aren’t allowed to have kits, according to your precious Starclan.”

“I know.” Yellowfang sighed mournfully, her posture defeated as she watched her son struggle to understand the weight of her words. “That is why I gave you up, so I could continue to care for the Clan I also loved. But I never stopped caring for you - never. I wept with pride the day you were named a warrior.”

“But then you murdered your own father.” She continued, her voice dropping to a low snarl filled with seasons of pent-up anger and bitterness. “You killed kits of your own Clan, and cast the blame on your healer - your own mother. You plotted to destroy the Clan that took you in despite the crimes you committed against it, all out of some misplaced sense of power and pride.” She shook her head slowly. “And so I must do what I should have done when you were first born, and put an end to your evil.”

“An end? What do you mean, you…” Brokentail tried to stand, but collapsed into his mossy nest instead. “What is this? What have you done to me?” He rasped, his legs moving weakly as though he was trying to get up, but his paws would not respond.

“Those were foxglove seeds that I gave you. Even one is a potent poison; with the amount you took, there is no surviving.” Her eyes were narrow slits as she gazed down on the broken shell of a once-feared leader. “I know this is your last life, Brokentail. Healers always know. And perhaps now I can rest peacefully at last, knowing that I will not be responsible for your sins any longer.”

Brokentail’s jaws parted in a cry of shock and fear. Fireheart thought he could hear regret there, too, but the blinded tom was unable to put words to it. His limbs thrashed and his paws scrabbled in the dust; his chest heaved as he fought for air. 

He turned away, not wanting to see the grisly scene, and padded back out into the camp clearing. Peppermask was still answering the many questions of the Clan in regards to Tigerclaw’s treachery - just as Fireheart moved to join her, he nearly collapsed as the wounds the exiled deputy had given him reasserted themselves.

He stumbled back to the healer’s den, knowing that he had to get treatment or he would bleed out where he stood. Inside, Yellowfang was pressed against her son’s side, mumbling words under her breath that only his spirit would be able to hear.

“Yellowfang?” He mewed softly, the old healer startling at his voice.

She raised her gaze to meet his, her dark eyes full of sorrow. “His wounds in the battle were too great. I did everything I could to save him, but it wasn’t enough.” She rasped, closing her eyes briefly as another wave of grief washed over her.

He didn’t dare tell her that he knew she was lying. He knew he had witnessed something he shouldn’t have. What happened with Brokentail was between her and Starclan, he believed, and not for him to judge. “I’m sorry, Yellowfang. I know you loved him, despite his flaws.” He tried his best to keep his voice even, to prevent her from realizing he knew the truth. “I know you want to mourn him, but Tigerclaw hurt me badly during our fight. Do you have anything to help?”

The healer’s ears perked in astonishment, and he realized that she had been within her own bubble during the whole ordeal. “You fought with Tigerclaw?” She shook her head and stood, stumbling over to her collection of herbs. “Take a seat in one of the nests. I should have enough supplies to help you.”

He nodded and took a seat in one of the mossy nests next to the pool of water in her den. "I did. With Tinyfrost's help, I defeated him. He'd attacked - killed Bluestar, and..." He trailed off, confusion suddenly surfacing in his mind once more. "Yellowfang, I don't understand. Bluestar died - twice, according to what she told Whitestorm. Yet she somehow still lives. How...?"

She paused, turning to face him with a look of bewilderment on her flat face. “All this time in the Clan, and still no cat has told you about a leader’s nine lives?” She asked, her voice lacking the bitter sarcasm it normally would in her surprise.

“Nine lives? But that’s just an old queens’ tale! Cats don’t really get to live nine times.” Fireheart bristled at the thought. He remembered Henry telling him about it once, long ago, as well as detailing how he’d lost several of his own lives. He’d thought the older tom was exaggerating. But if it was really true…

The two stared at each other for a long moment. For the first time in a long while, Fireheart felt once again like a newcomer - one who understood nothing of Clan tradition, who had to have every little detail explained to him. He felt himself shrinking down to a small apprentice once more under Yellowfang’s incredulous stare, until at last she turned away and began pawing out herbs.

“Once they have named their deputy, leaders are taken to the Moonstone by their oldest healer. There, they receive nine lives from Starclan in a special ceremony. They use these nine lives to serve their Clan.” The dark gray molly explained flatly as she grabbed at several golden flowers - marigold, he recognized, from the clearing in which they had first discussed Redtail together. “An old queens’ tale, great Starclan!” She mused to herself before she gently picked up a leaf bundle thick with flowers and turned to carry it over to him, setting it down beside the nest he’d picked. 

He flattened his ears at her incredulous condescension. “You have to admit that it sounds made up. Once things die, they’re supposed to stay dead. That’s what death means. That’s why…” He trailed off, not sure what else to say. He’d also believed the same thing when it came to Starclan spirits, but Redtail had proved him wrong. He’d wondered what sort of powers Starclan had then - it seemed trivial now, that they would be able to bring back the dead.

Yellowfang sighed as she began to examine his wounds. “I suppose I can see how to kittypets, it sounds like a tall tale. They don’t know about Starclan, after all.” She prodded one of his largest wounds, and he hissed instinctively at the pain. “That is also why leaders receive the title of -star. By gaining the power of Starclan, they become part of them.”

Fireheart nodded slowly. Now he understood why he had heard several cats fussing at the removal of Brokentail’s name; it had not just been a rejection of him as their leader, but also a rejection of his connection to Starclan and the lives they had given him. The thought of Brokentail’s lives suddenly brought him back to a moment several moons ago. “Wait. When Brokentail was hit by that Monster, I thought he was dead because he didn’t look like he was breathing. He was dead, wasn’t he? But he must have still had a life left, so Starclan brought him back.”

The healer’s eyes darkened as she chewed up a mix of several flowers, and she didn’t say anything for a long moment. At last, she applied the concoction to his wound, swiftly covering it with a pawful of cobwebs. “Yes, he still had a life left. Once that power is granted, it is not so easy to take it away.”

He wondered briefly what the old molly was thinking, but he knew better than to pry. Instead, he turned his thoughts to Bluestar, recovering from her murder in the nursery. “How many lives does Bluestar have left? She’s been leader for quite a while now, and Tigerclaw took two at the same time.”

Yellowfang didn’t answer, but the frown on her face told him all he needed to know. “It’s considered very rude to ask how many lives a leader has left. It’s something personal to them, which they only share with those close to them - their deputies, typically, and perhaps certain trusted family members as well.”

He bowed his head, slightly ashamed. “I’m sorry for asking.” He understood why leaders would not want that to be widely known - especially after what Tigerclaw had done.

She shrugged as she began applying more poultice to his other wounds. The herbs stung, but he knew that they would help him heal from the battle, so he did his best to stay still. “This is all new to you, so I won’t reprimand your curiosity.” Her gray paws firmly smoothed cobwebs against his wounds, pressing them tightly into his fur. The sticky substance felt strange and tight against his pelt. “Now, then. You’ve lost a lot of blood, and normally I would advise you to stay here for the night so I can watch you. But you’re young, and there are other cats that might need these nests more, so instead I’ll just warn you not to stretch too much and to come back and see me when the sun sets so I can switch your bandages.”

Fireheart nodded quickly in understanding. “Shall I go tell the others to come see you for healing?” He glanced at the body of Brokentail, his frame twisted in an unnatural position. “And maybe get the elders…?”

“No. I will bury him myself.” She turned away with a heavy sigh, concealing her face from his view. “As for healing, tell those that are still bleeding to come see me. We don’t have enough herbs to treat every little scratch.”

He dipped his head respectfully before turning to leave. His mind was swirling with everything that had happened - and perhaps a bit of blood loss - but at least his most pressing questions had been answered. By now, most of the crowd around Peppermask had disbanded, sulking off to various parts of the clearing to share tongues and absorb what had happened.

“Uh… everybody?” He announced, doing his best to draw their attention. Most cats turned to look at him, though none moved from their positions. “Yellowfang says that any cats that still have bleeding wounds need to come see her. Everyone else will have to wait until the more serious injuries are treated.”

He was grateful to see that most of the Clan had escaped the fighting relatively unscathed - a few cuts here and there, and many would certainly feel the impact of the blows they’d received for several days, but only a few had sustained serious wounds during the fight like he had. Only Sandstorm, Patchpelt and Speckleflight limped past him - the first line of fighters that had had to deal with the rogues until the other warriors had arrived.

His job done, Fireheart turned his attention to the nursery, where Lionheart and Whitestorm were dutifully sitting guard. He hesitated to approach the two giant toms, but he wouldn’t be able to rest until he made sure his sister and her kits had escaped the worst of the fighting. Plucking up his courage, he limped over to the two of them.

“Fireheart?” Lionheart’s scrutinizing stare turned on him, but he was thankful to see it was not an overly hostile one. “Did you need something from us?”

“No, I-” He swallowed back his fear, feeling momentarily overwhelmed by everything that had happened. Would Princess blame him for not warning her? He shook his head quickly. “I wanted to see my sister. I promise I won’t disturb Bluestar.”

The two warriors only needed to glance at each other before the golden warrior stepped aside with a slight bow. “They are waiting for you inside.” He informed Fireheart, taking a seat beside the entrance.

Fireheart dipped his head gratefully to Lionheart before squeezing his way inside. He didn’t take even a heartbeat to look for Bluestar, his eyes immediately going to where he knew his sister and her kits laid.

He was relieved to see that while she looked unnerved, her kits still squirmed happily at her side and she seemed unharmed. “Fireheart! Thank goodness you’re alive.” She purred, leaning up to touch noses with him as he approached.

He did so readily, welcoming the cold sensation of her nose on his. “I’m glad to see you safe as well. Did the rogues come in here at all?” He sniffed at the kits, who turned to look at him with bleary blue eyes.

“They did.” His heart plummeted at her admission. He’d been so worried about Bluestar, he’d forgotten to think of her at all during the battle. “But Goldenflower and Frostfur protected us! They had that rogue crying like a kit before they were through with him.” She shook her head, a sense of awe creeping over her face. “They’re so gentle with the kits, I didn’t think they had it in them! But they’re a force to be reckoned with, for sure.”

“When it comes to protecting kits, there is no cat I’d want by my side more than Frostfur.” He didn’t dare tell her about the white queen’s nickname - which was for the best, as he realized with a glance around the den that the two were sitting in their nest and sharing tongues. “Still, I’m glad you’re not injured.”

“I’m glad you’re safe too. The fighting out there sounded intense, and then…” She glanced at the nest beside her, where Bluestar was curled up. Her silver fur was dark and matted with blood, but she appeared to be fine - just resting, he imagined, given that he couldn’t see her eyes.

“It’s a long story. I’ll explain more to you when things aren’t so hectic.” And when no one else was around to eavesdrop, he thought to himself. Even though the truth was out in the open now, there were still parts of the story he wouldn’t tell to cats he didn’t trust. “I’ll be back soon, alright? I just had to check in on you before I did anything else.”

“I appreciate it.” She purred softly, touching noses with him one last time before he turned to leave. He cast another glance in Bluestar’s direction, tempted to talk to her as well, but quickly turned away and left the nursery instead. Tough conversations could be had later, and the leader needed rest after what had happened. Besides, he’d promised Lionheart and Whitestorm he wouldn’t disturb her.

He gave a respectful nod to the two warriors as he exited, before setting his sights on where Peppermask was now sitting alone in the clearing, taking stock of her injuries. She looked up to see his approach, heaving a weary sigh as he sat down next to her. “I had hoped this day wouldn’t come.” She murmured to him sadly.

“As had I.” Fireheart replied, his heart aching as he did. Tigerclaw could have been a great leader, had he not stooped to murder for his ambitions. Now, as the sun had passed its zenith and was setting towards the treeline, he felt a profound sense of loss - not just because of the two deputies that Tigerclaw had killed, but also for the emptiness of camp now that two more of its warriors had departed. 

All around camp, cats were whispering to each other and staring across the clearing distrustfully. The mighty deputy had been a cornerstone of the Clan, a foundation of strength upon which all warriors had come to rely on. Now that he was gone, it felt as though Thunderclan had lost everything that made it a Clan: safety, trust, and honor.

What would become of the Clan now? It would be up to Bluestar and the next deputy to bring these broken cats back together. Looking around camp, he wasn’t sure which cat was strong enough, and wise enough, to stand beside her and help her pick up the pieces.

If only Bluestar had listened to him…

He shook his head quickly. What was done was done. The only thing to do now was to focus on what was in front of them. He stood to stretch, but his side painfully reminded him that he had to be gentle on it. “Peppermask, would you mind hunting for Princess for me today? I don’t know if I can catch much in this state.”

She glanced over him, a patchwork of fur and cobwebs. “Of course, Fireheart. Why don’t you go and get some rest? You’re not going to be doing anything like that, and it will be a while still until Bluestar has recovered enough to choose a deputy. I’ll wake you before the ceremony begins.”

Where in Starclan’s name could she be? He looked around camp once more, anxiety beginning to gnaw at him, before his sights finally settled on the elders’ den, where Speckleflight and One-eye were casually talking to each other. Perhaps she was with Snowkit, given that she had often played with the young tom even before he had joined the elders’ den - not to mention he didn’t see the familiar white form next to his mother. 

He stood up, stretching out his limbs before padding over to the two elders, trying not to seem concerned. “Good evening, One-eye, Speckleflight.” He purred politely, giving them each a respectful nod. “Is Snowkit around?”

Speckleflight’s golden gaze narrowed slightly, and she looked away with a flick of her tail. “He just went off to the dirtplace.” She replied coldly, her voice devoid of the warmth she normally spoke about her son with. 

“I see.” He frowned, trying not to let his nerves overwhelm him. He somehow doubted that even Cinderspark would follow a friend to make dirt. “Well, have you seen Cinderspark anywhere, then? I noticed she’s not in her den, and-”

THUD!

He startled slightly as the fallen tree of the elders’ den shook from the force of some unseen impact. “What was that?” He growled, suddenly on high alert. Had a fox or badger gotten into camp without anyone noticing?

“What was what?” Even as she spoke, Speckleflight seemed almost as unnerved as he was. “I didn’t hear anything, and I haven’t seen Cinderspark, either. Now go away; we hardly need any nosy toms interrupting us.”

“I know I heard something.” He squinted, trying to peer into the darkness of the elders’ den, but he didn’t see anything inside. “You two stay here - I’ll take a look.”

“No!” He blinked as Speckleflight sharply rose to her paws to block him. “I mean - no, it’s fine. If you’re really so worried, I’ll go check it out myself.” She tried to play it off as nonchalance, but he could see a growing desperation in her eyes.

He stared at her, trying to parse her strange behavior. It felt familiar, and though he hesitated to push the queen, he felt he’d come to regret walking away now. “Is everything alright, Speckleflight? Nothing’s threatening Snowkit?” Normally, if her kit was in danger, Speckleflight would be the first to ask for a patrol to go looking for him. Why was that not the case now?

“No! Of course not. Snowkit is- he’s fine.” Her desperation and bluster were replaced by a sudden certainty, and he relaxed slightly. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon. There’s no need to bother him.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Speckleflight.” One-eye huffed from where she was lounging beside the other elder. “He’s basically figured it out. You might as well tell him.”

“Tell me what?” He squinted at the white elder, who was staring patiently at her companion. As he did, that nagging in his subconscious grew stronger, and it slowly dawned on him why the newest elder was acting this way. She was acting just like he had when Tinyfrost had confronted him about Ravenspirit. He turned to her, his gaze softening. “Speckleflight, I - I promise you, as long as it doesn’t break the code, I won’t tell a soul if something is going on with Snowkit. I didn’t tell anyone he was deaf, did I? You know a secret will be safe with me.”

The dappled golden queen paused, surveying him with a narrow gaze. At last, she sighed and looked down at her paws. “Cinderspark is training him, in the space behind our den.” She mewed wearily, all of the fight leaving her as she spoke. 

“Training him?” Fireheart blinked at her in confusion.

“Teaching him to hunt, how to fight. Things a mentor would teach him if he were an apprentice.” Speckleflight snapped, her eyes narrowing to thin slits. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“No! No, I-” He paused, trying to compose his thoughts. “I just didn’t expect Cinderspark to be doing something like that for him. I’m glad she is, though. What Bluestar did to him… it’s not right.” His whiskers curled slightly at the memory. He didn’t know what place in the Clan there was for a deaf cat, but he was certain that Snowkit didn’t belong in the nursery or the elders’ den. “I’ll keep this a secret, Speckleflight. Snowkit deserves the chance to prove himself. Does anyone else know?”

The two elders visibly relaxed as he spoke. “All the elders do. Some are less favorable to it than others… but they’ve all kept quiet.” Speckleflight answered, her tail tip still twitching from the tension.

“I imagine Patchpelt can’t be pleased with having his snoozing interrupted.” Fireheart purred in response, even as he admired the dedication of the small group of retired warriors. They were some of the most gossip-prone cats in the Clan - asking them to keep a secret as big as this one wasn’t a simple favor, and that they were complying showed a sense of loyalty to the former queen and her young kit he hadn’t expected. “May I go see them? I’d like to see what Cinderspark is teaching him - and who knows, perhaps I can give them a few tips, myself.”

Speckleflight regarded him with a guarded curiosity. “I suppose so.” She relented at last, sweeping her tail towards a small gap beneath the tree that he hadn’t given notice to before. “If you go under there you’ll find them. Just be careful - they can get a bit rough sometimes.”

The two elders waved farewell to him and went back to talking as he ducked under the fallen log. He had just looked up to see a large white blur flying at him.

He rolled out of the way, watching as Snowkit slammed into the spot where he’d been with a wheeze. Cinderspark stood in the middle of the small space behind the elders’ den, which was not quite as big as the training hollow, but still much larger than he had anticipated.

“Fireheart?” The dark gray molly gasped as the two toms got to their feet. “What are you doing back here? Where’s Speckleflight and One-eye?”

He blinked at her, suddenly realizing why the two elders had been sitting outside the den rather than napping inside - they’d been keeping guard. It also occurred to him that it had been quite some time since he’d seen the space outside the elders’ den empty. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized what had been happening sooner. “They told me what you’ve been up to lately. I came back here to see how it was going.” He looked over Snowkit, who looked surprisingly upbeat given he had just been thrown across the clearing. “And it seems to be going very well.”

Cinderspark chuffed happily. “We’re practicing using an opponent’s momentum against them! I guess you must’ve heard it even in camp, though.” She frowned and looked down at her paws as she thought about it for a moment. “I suppose the training hollow must be empty with the Gathering. We can probably move up there instead, before someone else catches us.”

“Well, I actually came looking for you. I got worried when I noticed nobody talking my ear off.” He teased, whiskers twitching in amusement as the young molly pouted at him. “But if you keep throwing each other around like that, someone will probably notice eventually.”

“Yeah. The elders keep quiet, but if some cat like Dustleap found out…” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Hey, Fireheart! Now that you know, would you be willing to help me teach Snowkit a little? Speckleflight tries, but she’s too soft on him. But with your help, we could really teach him how to deal with tag-teaming, and stuff like that!”

He considered the proposition for a moment. He was tempted to say no - he was busy with so many other things these days, between hunting for Princess and keeping up with patrols. Still, he had come back here under the intention of doing that very thing - and he also felt guilty thinking of Snowkit, bored out of his mind in the elders’ den instead of getting to do normal apprentice things. “I’m pretty busy with hunting fresh-kill for my sister and her kits these days, but if I happen to have free time, I’ll see if I can’t stop by.” He mewed at last.

“Thank you Fireheart!” She almost collided with him as she raced over to give him thanks, causing him to wince in pain. “Hey, lemme just tell Snowkit what’s going on, and then we can get right over to the training hollow!”

He watched her launch into a series of movements, some he vaguely recognized from her explaining when he’d first found out the tom was deaf. He was glad that she had found something to direct all her energy into, and that thing was something that could truly make a difference in the Clan. He hoped, one day, that Snowkit might be able to get a proper apprenticeship, and with Cinderspark’s help he imagined one day the white tom might get that chance.

Redtail x Tigerclaw - A long time ago, at least a couple of years, I read a Tumblr post that said something like 'The warriors series is just the result of Redtail and Tigerclaw breaking up' and that stuck with me. Unfortunately, I don't remember who posted it, though I'll gladly credit if anyone finds it. That post ended up being the foundation for my entire rewrite - 'Embrace of the Locked Talons' refers specifically to Redtail and Tigerclaw! I've learned since that there are a few rewrites that use this premise, so it's not necessarily an uncommon one, but there you go.

As for their kits! I chose Sandstorm to be one because, as I said earlier, she was always a Redtail kit to me (though she isn't any longer - sadge). Dustleap was the other because, honestly, I always thought they were siblings with how close they generally were and how they were always referred to as older than the rest. They also have similar names (Sand and Dust). Dustleap is also, if not a Tiger-ally, then Tiger-adjacent, and his similar description to Tigerclaw always made me think they were related. Them being Redtail and Tigerclaw kids made perfect sense to me!

Tigerclaw x Nightwish - I wanted Ravenpaw to still be Dustleap's brother, but it didn't really fit to shove him in with them to be a third of their litter (Sand, Dust, and... Raven?). Plus, even though he's obviously traumatized from watching Redtail die, I think that if any other cat had been deputy and died in front of him he'd still have the same reaction - so it didn't make sense to make him a Redtail kit. I ended up conceptualizing him as a half-brother to Dustleap to explain how they're related but so distant from each other compared to Dustleap and Sandstorm - they're not littermates, and he's only further evidence their parents aren't getting back together.

Still, if he's a Tigerclaw kit, I needed him to have a second parent - Tigerclaw's not the type to be a single parent, really. He'd rather have a mate to throw in his ex's face. Going through the cats of the Clan at that point, I arrived at Nightwish looking similar to him and concluded she'd be a logical mother. Her dying was to explain why there's no one else really able to stand up to Tigerclaw over his son's treatment. Dappleshine does her best, since she ended up raising him, but she doesn't really have a claim to stand up to Tigerclaw - short of if he got physically abusive, at which point she would have absolutely stood up to him, as would most of the other warriors.

Dappleshine x Speckleflight - I'm going to be honest, I don't remember the reason for putting these two together. I had envisioned both as very matronly characters, older nursery queens who looked out for the younger members of the Clan and offered advice to new queens. I suppose at one point I was trying to decide on mates for them and wondered, but what if they kissed? And the rest is history.

Whitestorm x Lionheart - When I first read the books, I always saw Whitestorm and Lionheart as a pair - two strong, wise men that were very close to each other. I'm not entirely sure how I got that off half a book, given Lionheart dies in Into the Wild, but that was always my headcanon. When I got the chance, I leaped to make my headcanon reality.

Frostfur x Goldenflower - This is another one where my brain just smacked two cats together and said they were tied together somehow for life. They're not siblings, obviously, but why can't they be girlfriends in a gay for gay with Whitestorm and Lionheart? I love picturing these two in a giant fluffy cuddle pile, surrounded by their numerous children <3

Willowbranch x Quickflash - I'd already tapped Graystripe to be Willowbranch's son, as per canon, but he needed a new father that wasn't Patchpelt. I went through my list of possible cats around her age that weren't related, and all I could come up with were Longtail, Quickflash, and Mousefur. (And Darkstripe, but Darkstripe being Graystripe's father just didn't compute in my head.) I wanted to leave Longtail and Mousefur available - I hadn't yet decided if they were siblings, mates, or something else - so that just left Quickflash.

I'd already tapped Quickflash for the deputy job, as someone no one would care about when he died. Obviously, with him being Graystripe's father, that last part changed, but I think that was for the better. Given the only bits of him we get in canon are 'Not terribly good with children' and 'Young', and that first part wouldn't apply if he had children, I ended up completely rewriting his character to suit my needs. I like how it turned out, in the end - He'll certainly be missed, but his death ended up complicating the plot in all the right ways.

I won't address the ones that remain from canon, like Graystripe x Silverstream, but in general I didn't mess with characters whose relationship was already important to the original plot - things like Yellowfang and Raggedstar, for example, or Speckleflight and Snowkit. There are certainly changes I made to make relationships important to the plot - things like Brokentail's son, Quickflash being Graystripe's father - and I obviously changed details that were important to later plots (like Thistleclaw being Snowstorm's mate) - but the original plot's original relationships remain intact.

Lastly, I'd like to comment on our aro reps! It's important to me to have characters that don't have mates, and that they're considered just as valuable and respected warriors as those that do have mates and kits. You might notice some omissions from this list that don't currently have mates, or may never get mates, and that's intentional! Not every mateless cat is aro rep, though you can certainly imagine them to be that if it pleases you.

Patchpelt - In my head, he's an old, grumpy war veteran that has never liked children, which ends up showing when he mentors Dewpaw. None of the mollies or toms in the Clan have ever interested him - certainly, he gets along fine with them, but he's never found any cat that interested him in becoming a mate. He's happy with where he is in the elders' den, chatting his days away with his old friends and being waited on by little upstarts.

Spottedleaf - She may be beautiful, if not young, but while Spottedleaf has drawn the gaze of many cats she's never been interested in taking a mate - which is part of why she became a healer. Spottedleaf doesn't need companionship when she has her beautiful self, after all.

Longtail - Longtail is a devoted warrior, and he believes in Tigerclaw, Bluestar, and Thunderclan with his whole heart. He may not like certain members (like Fireheart) but he respects their contributions to the Clan. He follows the code to the letter - knows it inside and out, better than any cat in all the Clans. With all that dedication, it doesn't seem as if he has time for a mate - though the same could have been said for his brother Quickflash, and he and Willowbranch ended up quite happily together. Regardless, even if Longtail can be a little grouchy, he's happy with his current lot in life, and he doesn't need a cat alongside him to change that.

Mistspring - We don't see much of Mistspring outside of her role in mentoring Cinderspark. Needless to say, even though both her sisters settled down with a mate fairly early, she was never interested in the nursery. She loves the Clan, and her friends within it, but she has no need to fill her life with a mate or kits when the world around her is so filled with wonder to explore.

Dewpaw - Dewpaw's never quite understood the desire other cats have to find a mate. Kits are a different story - being able to watch them grow and help nurture them fascinates her - but needing to have someone alongside you for every pawstep in life seems like a hassle. Luckily, her love of knowledge and herbs, as well as her aversion to fighting, lead her to a life as a healer. Now she helps the Clan grow and thrive, and she couldn't be happier.

Fireheart - Simply put, Fireheart doesn't understand love. At all. How could it possibly drive Graystripe to abandon the family he loves and ignore all rational sense that something, eventually, will lead to him getting caught? Why would it lead Redtail to ignore the danger Tigerclaw poses to Thunderclan until it was too late? He understands anger very well, and grief (even if he's never personally experienced it), but love? It just doesn't make any sense.

Cedarpaw brought a gaunt-looking squirrel and slightly plumper cardinal over to the elders for their share, while Peppermask collected a pair of voles by their tails and headed over to the nursery to bring Princess, Goldenflower, and Frostfur their share. Longtail, meanwhile, slunk away to where his sister was waiting for him. There was no prey for the warriors until everyone but them and their apprentices had been fed.

Yellowfang and Dewpaw were next. He heard Yellowfang mutter something about Bluestar to Dewpaw before selecting the largest prey on the pile, a squirrel missing chunks of fur from its tail. The older healer departed swiftly for the nursery, a limp in her step from the back leg that Fireheart had broken as an apprentice. It seemed that the cold weather was making her leg act up - which wasn’t terribly surprising, given that Patchpelt had woken them up with the complaint that his joints were hurting worse than his wounds.

Fireheart flinched out of his thoughts as someone pressed up beside him, looking up to see Dewpaw standing next to him. She gently deposited a thrush in front of them. “Yellowfang’s going to eat with Bluestar and the queens today, so I thought we could share this?” She offered softly, tilting her head with a small smile as she watched him.

“I-” His mouth watered at the thought of food, but he politely shook his head nonetheless. “I’d better not. Why don’t you bring that to your patients?” He glanced at the healer’s den for a brief moment, but he couldn’t see inside from where he was sitting.

She tilted her head the other way, the smile dropping off her face. “You are one of my patients, mousebrain. Or have you somehow missed all the cobwebs all over you?” His wounds stung painfully at the reminder, and he grinned up at her sheepishly. “Besides, Speckleflight and Patchpelt are eating with the other elders. Yellowfang said it’s good for their spirits to eat with their companions, or something like that.”

He glanced towards the elders’ den and saw that she was right - Speckleflight, Snowkit, and Rosetail were hunched over the cardinal that Cedarpaw had brought them, while Halftail, Patchpelt, Smallear, and One-eye were taking dainty bites out of the squirrel. “I just-” He hesitated, not sure how to explain how he worried the Clan would take it if he ate in front of them while they were starving. He ought to be treated like a normal warrior - which meant he ate last out of all the warriors. 

“Hush, you.” Dewpaw settled down next to him, lightly tapping him with her tail. “Save all your noble excuses for another day. You need food if you’re going to recover.” She glanced away briefly with a small sigh. “Besides, I was hoping to talk to you about yesterday. Yellowfang told me you said Tigerclaw attacked you and Bluestar, but she didn’t seem to know much more than that - and everyone else only seems to know what you or Peppermask told them.”

Fireheart shifted nervously beside her, suddenly feeling queasy. Dewpaw had been the first to believe him about Redtail, and she had been one of the few to know the truth about Tigerclaw - she deserved a better explanation from him than had been given to the rest of the Clan. Still, it felt as if Tigerclaw’s threat still hung in the air - that if he dared to speak the traitor’s name, he would appear and deliver the revenge he’d promised. “I don’t know what there is to tell.” He finally mewed at last. 

He didn’t know what to make of the look Dewpaw shot at him, until she looked away with a haughty sniff. “Well, if you won’t tell me, maybe you’ll tell Peppermask?” He didn’t get a chance to respond before she was already on her paws, waving over at the warriors’ den. “Hey, sis! Come join us!”

He squinted at her in confusion. What was that supposed to mean? As far as he was concerned, Peppermask and Dewpaw were equals. He’d been on more patrols with Peppermask, certainly, but that was only because she was a warrior while Dewpaw was a healer! Still, he didn’t get the chance to protest before two gray cats appeared in front of them - Peppermask and Cinderspark.

“Can I join too?” He’d barely registered their presence before Cinderspark was already talking away, her bright blue eyes eagerly glancing between them. “I mean, getting to eat with the deputy! And our future healer! It’s an honor, really!” She hopped into an off-balance bow as she spoke, teetering on the edge of falling over as she wobbled in front of them.

From any other cat, Fireheart would assume the words were dripping with sarcasm - but with Cinderspark, he knew she was entirely sincere in the respect she was giving him, and that only made him even more uncomfortable. “There’s no need to be so formal.” He mewed, trying not to let the discomfort at her display show on his face. “I’m the same Fireheart I was yesterday. You didn’t bow to me then, did you?”

Cinderspark jumped back up at his words. “I guess not.” She admitted, though he could see in her eyes that she didn’t really believe what he was saying. He was deputy now - apparently that was enough to change everything, in her mind.

“Sharing prey together like this - it’s just like old times, isn’t it?” Peppermask purred as she settled in, tapping the ground with her tail for her sister to do the same. It wasn’t long before all four were settled around the thrush, each taking delicate bites so that everyone would be able to eat some. “It’s crazy to think it’s been almost a season-cycle since we first met. Newleaf’s not that far away, after all.”

“It could certainly come a bit sooner.” Fireheart grumbled, glaring up at the dull gray light filtering through the camp covering into the clearing. “I’d appreciate some real sunlight for a change.”

“Look at you, sounding so old and wise already.” Peppermask purred, giving him a small, teasing grin. “Like you’ve been deputy for seasons already.”

Fireheart grimaced at her reminder, but Cinderspark was already speaking, either not noticing or not caring about his discomfort. “Yeah! You’re going to be great as a deputy, I just know it.” She fixed him with an intense stare, unblinking as she watched him squirm. “I mean, you defeated Tigerclaw! The greatest warrior in all the Clans! And Brokentail, too, back when he was still the leader of Shadowclan! You’re the greatest warrior I know!”

“I’m really not.” He mumbled, looking away guiltily as his stomach churned. “I- I wouldn’t have defeated Tigerclaw if it wasn’t for Tinyfrost. And Brokentail- I-” For a moment, he was back in the healer’s den, his paws rooted to the spot as Brokentail took his last gasps for air; he was beside the Thunderpath, his fur bristling as the exiled rogue demanded he finish the job; he was standing at the edge of the forest, watching Graystripe scream into his father’s fur. He wasn’t a great warrior. If he was, he would’ve stopped Tigerclaw before the rogues invaded, or prevented Quickflash’s death, or-

“Hey.” His whiskers tingled as someone pressed into his side, and he blinked over to see Dewpaw nuzzling his cheek. “Are your injuries bothering you? I can go fetch you some poppy seeds if you need, or you can lay down in the den for a while.”

He shook his head, even as he blinked gratefully at the healer apprentice. “No, I- You did a good job with the cobwebs.” The wounds Tigerclaw had left on his side would heal, thanks to her and Yellowfang. But the damage he’d done to the Clan… “I- I appreciate the support, Cinderspark, but I’m not a great warrior, okay? I’m just me.”

The dark gray molly seemed to finally take in how shaken he was, and she slowly nodded. “I- Okay.” She swallowed hard and glanced at the leader’s den nearby, which was currently still and silent. She stared at it for a long, quiet moment, before looking back at him with sudden concern. “I- You’ve been so upbeat, I thought- I guess I wasn’t thinking. But… you said you saw Bluestar die, didn’t you? Did she- did Tigerclaw kill her in front of you?”

Cinderspark’s curiosity was quieter, more withdrawn now. Part of him felt guilty for making her feel as if she’d overwhelmed him - but he couldn’t deny that he was grateful she’d backed off, at least a little. “I didn’t see him kill her, no. But- I mean, you all saw the blood. There was so much of it.” Peppermask had helped him to the stream outside camp to wash the blood off his paws last night, but his fur was still stained a dark, rusty brown. “I wasn’t in time to save her. If I’d realized sooner…”

“You did your best.” Peppermask mewed softly, blinking slowly at him over the mostly-eaten thrush. “You didn’t know that the rogue attack was a trap. None of us knew what Tigerclaw was planning. At least you realized before he could take all of her lives.”

Fireheart nodded slowly. That was true, though it was small consolation seeing how badly the loss of two of her lives - or maybe the loss of her faithful deputies - had affected Bluestar. “I- I suppose that’s true. I just wish- we knew he was planning something. All the signs were there. We should’ve realized…”

“Bluestar should’ve realized when you told her the truth.” Fireheart flicked an ear in surprise as Dewpaw spoke, her voice filled with a contempt and venom he hadn’t heard out of her since she’d become a healer. “She should’ve listened to Yellowfang when Redtail showed up. Instead she made Tigerclaw deputy and gave him an apprentice. There’s only so much any cat can do to fix a problem that isn’t their fault to begin with.”

Peppermask nodded in agreement at her sister’s words. “Dewpaw’s not wrong. We’ve done what we could since we were apprentices. We didn’t save Dad, but we did save Ravenspirit, and you did save the Clan - even if Tinyfrost deserves just as much of the credit. I’m sure wherever he is, Redtail is proud of us.”

“I guess that’s true.” Fireheart admitted softly, glancing around camp. He hadn’t seen Redtail in moons - not since the night they’d spoken in Fireheart’s dreams. He’d mentioned then that Starclan was trying to stop him from seeing Fireheart - had they succeeded? Had they punished him for interfering with Thunderclan and getting Tigerclaw chosen as deputy? Had he been forced to watch helplessly as Tigerclaw nearly brought Thunderclan to ruins? “I hope Redtail’s at peace now.”

“For all we know, he’s in the nursery right now, yelling at Bluestar for not listening to him.” Peppermask mewed, her whiskers twitching in amusement.

Fireheart’s whiskers twitched back at her. “Maybe he can move on to Graystripe for us next.” He did his best to keep his fur from bristling at the thought of his once-friend, who had wisely kept out of his sight once Fireheart had emerged from the healer’s den for the usual sunhigh sharing of tongues. “Or maybe he’s in Starclan already, now that he knows Thunderclan is safe from Tigerclaw.”

“What are you talking about?” 

The three froze as Cinderspark spoke up suddenly, her deep blue gaze narrow as she looked between the three of them. “What’s this about saving Dad? What does Redtail have to do with Graystripe? Am I the only one that doesn’t understand what’s going on here?” As she spoke, Fireheart’s eyes dropped to his paws. How was he supposed to respond to that?

There was a long moment of silence, and Fireheart guessed that Dewpaw and Peppermask were doing the same as him - hoping one of the others would answer her. “I am, aren’t I?” Cinderspark mewed slowly. He couldn’t see her face, but her voice was enough to paint a picture of her emotions - anger, realization, a tinge of sadness overlaying the whole thing. “You- you said this has been going on since we were apprentices. That means - you knew Tigerclaw was going to kill Dad to become deputy, and you didn’t tell me?” More silence, and then, softly: “Why?”

More silence. From across camp, Fireheart could hear the quiet, reserved murmurings of a Clan that was struggling with everything that had happened; asking themselves the same question that Cinderspark had just asked them. “We had to keep it secret.” He mumbled at last, still not meeting her eyes. “We didn’t want Tigerclaw to know we were on to him-”

“And you think I would have told him?” Fireheart flinched at Cinderspark’s snarl. “You all thought that I couldn’t keep a secret, not even when it’s Dad’s life that’s involved? ‘Cinderspark’s so bee-brained, if we tell her this huge secret then the whole camp will know before sunhigh’!?” Righteous indignation was ingrained in every word Cinderspark spoke - and it was entirely deserved. “None of you trust me, do you? You all still see me as your flea-brained little sister.”

“You’re not-” Fireheart began, but Cinderspark cut him off before he could finish.

“And you! You of all cats should know how trustworthy I am!” Cinderspark yowled now, her tail lashing so furiously that he could hear it whistling through the air. “I thought we were friends, Fireheart. What was all that kindness for, really? Pity?” She huffed bitterly. “Don’t bother answering that. I already know. I can’t believe you - any of you.”

There was shuffling in the dirt, and then hasty pawsteps retreating away. Fireheart looked up in time to see Cinderspark’s fluffy dark tail disappearing into the darkness of the bramble tunnel. All around camp, eyes and ears were turned towards where Fireheart, Peppermask, and Dewpaw were sitting. 

He looked away from them to the other two, who were also regarding him with wary eyes. “I… I didn’t…” Fireheart didn’t know what to say. He was sure he could have handled that better, but for the most part Cinderspark was right - they all thought if they told her, she would let it slip to someone, and soon the whole Clan would know. “Shouldn’t you go after her?” Fireheart mewed after a painfully long moment to Dewpaw. 

Dewpaw glanced back at the tunnel for a brief heartbeat before shaking her head. “And say what? There’s nothing I can tell her that can shield her from the truth. We didn’t trust her.” 

Fireheart swallowed hard. Hearing that from Dewpaw, who was arguably the most level-headed of them all, felt like Tigerclaw raking him apart all over again. The worst part was that Cinderspark was right to be upset with him most of all - she had been keeping a secret, one he had discovered just before Tigerclaw had betrayed them. If there was any time to tell her, it would have been then, he reasoned. Or maybe if they’d included her from the beginning…

“You should finish the rest of this thrush. You need your strength up if you’re going to recover.” Peppermask pushed the remnants of the bird towards him. It was clear that even now, in the middle of leafbare while they were all starving, Cinderspark’s anger had made them all lose their appetites.

Graystripe looked eagerly between the two, waiting for some reaction, but Fireheart could only stare blankly at him. At last, he shook his head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you. What was that about Silverstream?” He asked, deciding perhaps he really had misheard Graystripe. There was no way-

“She’s going to have my kits! I’m going to be a father!” Graystripe squealed as quietly as he could, all but dancing in place as he spoke. “And you, Peppermask! You’re going to be an aunt! Mudwish has already confirmed it and everything. They’ll be born in less than two moons!”

“Graystripe-” Peppermask began, but Fireheart stopped her with a tap of his tail. She glanced at him in confusion, but he only returned her glance with a narrow glare. After moons of silence from the other tom, he finally had the nerve to return after everything that had happened with news of half-Clan kits? 

“Graystripe, take a good look around you.” The ginger deputy growled, his tone laced with bitter contempt. There were still blood stains trailing out of Bluestar’s den, still gouge marks in the earth, still jagged holes in the camp walls from the bitter fighting. All around them was evidence of the terrible tragedy that had taken place earlier that he had been trying so hard to ignore. Now he watched the dark gray tom take it all in.

His former friend’s ears lowered and he slowly stopped prancing as he looked around the clearing. “What happened?” He wondered aloud, returning his worried gaze to Fireheart. “I thought we were at peace with all the other Clans. Even Riverclan has backed-”

“Tigerclaw happened, Graystripe.” He spat, feeling the fur rise along his spine once more. “Your father’s murderer? Remember him? He told Brokentail’s band that the camp was nearly defenseless, and he was almost right. Brightpaw and Thornpaw managed to bring all the warriors back to camp in time - all except for you, but of course I’m sure Thornpaw just didn’t look hard enough.” 

Part of him filled with dark joy in seeing guilt creep up over the other warrior’s face - guilt that had been rightfully earned. “He killed Bluestar twice, and probably would have taken all her lives if I hadn’t been there to stop him. He and Darkstripe were exiled for all their crimes, in case you were wondering.” He didn’t try to hide his furiously lashing tail - nor did Peppermask beside him try to stop him. “Brokentail’s dead, too - he tried to jump Whitestorm during the attack, but Whitestorm struck back too hard. I’m sure you’ll be glad to know you don’t have to sit on guard duty for him any more.”

Graystripe opened his mouth to interrupt him, but Fireheart snarled wordlessly in his face and he closed it once more. “My sister’s kits are fine, thank you for asking, and Bluestar’s recovering in the nursery now. Though I doubt you care much about what’s happened to anyone in this camp given how much you’ve been avoiding us.” His heart was beating furiously against his ribs, and his sides heaved with righteous anger as he glared at the tom that he had once cared so deeply for. “Oh, and I’m also the deputy now. But sure, go ahead and tell me about how you were off gallivanting with your Riverclan mate this whole time. It’s not like we needed you or anything.”

The dark gray tom had seemingly shrank under his admonishment, his yellow eyes wide and horrified as Fireheart continued to pile on detail after terrible detail about what had occurred that very same day. “I- I’m sorry.” The troublesome warrior squeaked out at last. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” Fireheart snapped, his claws unsheathing slightly. “Just like you’re so sorry for attacking me for trying to help you see how messed up your loyalties had become, huh?” He could still see his former friend’s snarling face, taunting him and calling him a kittypet. “And don’t act like there was no way you could know this was coming. If you’d tried paying any attention at all, you’d know that Tigerclaw has been planning this for moons. But you couldn’t be bothered to care about your father, your family, or your Clan - all you cared about was your wonderful Riverclan mate.” 

He spat the last words in Graystripe’s face, causing him to flinch, but he still crouched in front of his new deputy. “I ought to exile you. You broke the code, you failed your Clan - I’m ashamed I ever thought of you as a friend.” Fireheart turned away, making sure his tail hit the other tom in the face with a hearty slap. “You’re on guard duty from now until sunhigh. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of my way, or I’ll make sure you’re punished properly for everything you’ve done.”

He didn’t listen for any response from Graystripe, instead storming his way across camp to the apprentices’ den - a familiar space, one that brought back memories of better times. He sat next to the tree stump outside it, kneading angrily into the soft grass and pretending it was the throat of the tom that had troubled him so deeply. All his anger and pain and regret poured out into his claws, shredding the plants beneath him.

He felt someone come up beside him, and glanced slightly over his shoulder to see it was Peppermask. “I suppose you’re going to tell me off for all that.” He growled, continuing to claw at the frozen blades of grass. “Well, I’m not sorry. He deserved it.”

She sighed and took a seat next to him. “I probably should.” She mewed to him, the weariness in her voice surprising him. He turned to take a good look at her to see she looked tired, like all her energy had been sucked out by the confrontation. “But to be honest? There’s not a word you said that I didn’t agree with.”

He blinked slowly at her, surprised to hear an endorsement from the normally even-tempered molly. “Even when I threatened to exile him?” He questioned as he paused in his grass mauling to turn to her.

She shrugged softly in response. “I don’t know if you have that power, but honestly? I’m not sure I care.” She sighed again and leaned against him, and he leaned back into her. “All that time I was terrified that Tigerclaw would finally catch him, and he wouldn’t listen to me. And now they’re going to have kits?” Her eyes emptily searched the ground in front of them as though seeking some kind of guidance in the earth. “He’s my brother, Fireheart. I’m supposed to love him, no matter what happens. But after all this? I’m not sure I can.”

He turned to lap comfortingly at her ear for several heartbeats. “I don’t blame you for that. He’s the one that’s forgotten what it means to be part of a family.” He glanced at the nursery that Whitestorm was still patiently guarding, where Princess laid inside. Family, he was learning, was about more than sharing blood. It was about sharing the sweet moments, and caring for each other in the painful moments. Though he had first met Princess because they were shared kin, their bond went deeper than that now; they both valued each other, and wanted to help each other as best they knew how. That, he figured, was what family was really about.

“And now I’m going to be an aunt? Really?” Peppermask tensed beside him, her claws stretching in and out of their sheaths. “I never thought I’d be an aunt before I had my own kits.”

He flicked an ear curiously towards her. “Really? And who would your mate be?” He asked as he looked back to meet her gaze, but she was already looking away from him, her face hidden in the night shadows.

He couldn’t tell what she was thinking as she stared out into the camp clearing for a long moment. At last Peppermask shrugged and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.” She mewed, turning back to face him. “The point is that Graystripe’s clearly not thought this through. And it’s not like I’m even going to get to be an aunt anyways - they’re Riverclan kits! They’ll be exiled if their father is revealed to be from Thunderclan!” She huffed angrily at the thought.

His thoughts briefly flashed back to what Graypool had told them not so long ago. The story of a queen, whose mate and kits had been killed for breaking the code, and how she had been painfully exiled afterwards. What if the same tragedy befell Graystripe and Silverstream? Bluestar would never, he knew, but could he say the same for every warrior in Thunderclan? Could he say the same for Riverclan?

Silverstream had been so sure that her father would never do such a thing - that he would welcome Graystripe with open paws, if it ever came to that. But part of him had to wonder what the rest of the Clan would think - and if Crookedstar would be willing to stand up to his Clan and the code all in the sake of half-Clan kits, even if they were his grandkits. 

“Graystripe doesn’t seem to think anything through these days.” He finally pointed out with a low growl, recalling how dismissive the tom had been of their concerns back when they’d first discovered the two together. Now, it had only gotten worse. “But you know what? I don’t think it’s our problem anymore. If Graystripe wants to go running off and break the code, then I’m not going to cover for him. We can’t prevent the consequences of his badger-brained actions. Not forever, anyways.”

Peppermask was silent, and he worried for a moment that he’d offended her by saying such things. “You’re right. If he’s really going to be a father now, then he’s clearly mature enough to handle himself.” She huffed bitterly over her shoulder, presumably in her brother’s general direction. “You know, I- I was just staying up so I could make sure that he was safe, and that the rogues hadn’t found him first. Now that I know, I think I should get some rest.” 

He nodded in understanding. Now it made sense why she had been so restless beside him, even though it had been such a busy day. “Of course, Peppermask. And since Graystripe’s guarding the camp, I’m going to go see Yellowfang and Dewpaw.” Though at this point, he wasn’t entirely sure he trusted his former friend to do a decent job - but he was tired, too, and his wounds were beginning to ache from exertion. “Sleep well.” He murmured to her, as the two slipped away from each other to their respective dens.

He gave one glance at Graystripe at the bramble entrance before he slipped inside the healer’s den. Though the other tom was staring forlornly after the new deputy, he seemed to have taken up a guard position - and so Fireheart felt satisfied in slipping into the jagged crack in the rocks and into the healer’s den.

The water pool at the back gurgled peacefully as the flanks of several sleeping cats rose and fell beneath the moonlight. It seemed Patchpelt and Speckleflight were staying with the healers due to the injuries they’d sustained in the fighting - likely because they were older, and therefore more at risk of infection than young and healthy cats like him and Sandstorm. He ignored them, moving over instead to gently prod Dewpaw in the side.

“Hmm?” The silver tabby apprentice sat up immediately, though her green eyes were bleary and filled with sleep as she stared at him. “Fireheart? Has something happened?” She did her best to mew through a large yawn, shaking her head to try and wake herself up.

“No, no. Everything’s fine. It’s just that Yellowfang wanted me to come back and get my bandages changed before moonhigh - but with everything going on…” He trailed off, not sure how to explain, but thankfully she nodded in understanding all the same. “Anyways, I didn’t want to wake her - I figured you would be able to change them.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t. She’d have given you more wounds for me to treat.” The little healer apprentice rolled her eyes with a wry grin at him before stumbling over to the collection of herbs, now much sparser than they had been earlier. “Come here, into the moonlight, so I can take a proper look at them.”

He did so readily, crouching beside the pool in the back of the den. He tried not to wince as she pulled away the cobwebs, examining his wounds with a gentle touch of a paw before bundling over to the pool and dipping a chunk of moss in. “The bleeding seems to have stopped, and they don’t smell infected, but I’m surprised you’re able to walk much at all with those. Yellowfang told me Tigerclaw did this?” She spoke softly as she began brushing the moss in smooth, straight strokes along his wounds, wiping away leftover poultice and blood.

“Yes. Though I’m sure I gave him something to think about, too.” For a brief moment, he saw the exiled deputy’s leering grin, crowing about how he’d killed the Thunderclan leader - but then it was gone as quickly as it had come. “Truthfully, I’ve been trying not to walk around much. They hurt with every step.” He didn’t feel ashamed about admitting that to her, though he would never say it to any other cat in camp - not even Peppermask or Princess.

“I can imagine. I’m surprised Yellowfang didn’t want to keep you here tonight.” Dewpaw responded, her tone worried as she moved over to pull out herbs that he recognized Yellowfang having grabbed earlier. “I know you’re deputy now, but you shouldn’t be moving at all if you can help it.”

He hesitated, glancing behind him to see that there were still a couple of empty nests. “Actually, Dewpaw, if it’s alright, could I stay here tonight? I don’t-” He thought of the warriors’ den, where his nest currently laid between Graystripe’s abandoned nest and Cinderspark’s. As deputy, it was tradition for it to move to the center of the warriors’ den, where Tigerclaw’s had been - but something about the thought of it made him queasy. He didn’t belong there. Tigerclaw hadn’t either, but something about taking that space felt so final.

“Of course.” He was grateful he didn’t have to finish his sentence as Dewpaw returned and began chewing up herbs. “If anyone asks, tell them I mandated it.”

“Thank you, Dewpaw.” He purred, quickly relaxing beneath her gentle touch. At least for tonight, he would be able to rest like nothing had changed - he was just a normal warrior, confined to the healer’s den until he had recovered from battle. He wouldn’t have to face everything that was changing outside of the den until he woke up - a daunting prospect, but one he wouldn’t have to think about just yet. 

They sat in comfortable silence as the apprentice worked, until at last she stepped away from him. “There. That’s the last of them.” She flicked an ear towards where the two elders were sleeping. “You can have the nest next to Speckleflight. Yellowfang will wake you in the morning to change your bandages again.”

“It’s quite active today.” He heard Longtail remark to Tigerclaw as he deposited his prey. “Has something happened while we were out?”

“Bluestar will be calling a meeting shortly.” The dark tabby deputy responded with his usual low growl. “You’ll see.”

Fireheart perked his ears, but he knew better than to ask anything of the treacherous tabby. It was too early for anything regarding the Gathering; it was still over a half-moon away. No, he thought to himself as his eyes drifted towards where Cinderpaw and Snowkit were play-fighting, this had to be something else.

He caught sight of Peppermask, who was sitting near the entrance, and trotted over with a tail flick as greeting. “Where’s Graystripe?” He asked her curiously as he sat down beside her. “Surely the Twolegplace patrol got back before we did.”

“They did. Tinyfrost and Dustleap are here.” She pointed out the two warriors with her tail, nearly on the opposite sides of camp. “He must’ve left almost immediately, because he wasn’t here when I got back from patrol.”

The ginger tom frowned at that. “Do you think he’s avoiding us?” He wondered, glancing at the bramble entrance. It was empty - all the patrols for the day had already come back. “He’s been spending a lot of time out of camp since the Gathering.”

“Since Quickflash died.” The spotted tabby replied, her ears dipping slightly as she gave him a warning glance. “He’s likely just distracting himself with hunting. He probably thinks he’s being helpful.”

“He wasn’t in camp for the battle, either. You think he’d stay in camp after the scolding Tigerclaw gave him when he finally showed up again.” He huffed as he recalled getting woken out of his drowsing by Tigerclaw’s yowling. He couldn’t fault the deputy, either: All Graystripe had brought back from his day-long hunt had been a couple paltry voles that would barely feed one of Goldenflower’s kits. “I hope he doesn’t miss this meeting. Do you think it’s going to be-?”

“I hope it is. I don’t think anyone can deny that Cinderpaw fought bravely during the battle. Taking on Ratscar and Tangleburr by herself- that’s something any cat could be proud of. Especially with what happened to Mistspring…” Fireheart glanced across camp towards the healer’s den as Peppermask spoke, but the entrance was covered in shadow in the evening light; he couldn’t see inside at all. “If she’s not made a warrior after that, then when?”

“Right.” Fireheart couldn’t disagree with that; he was thinking much the same thing. It had to be a ceremony; if it were anything else, surely Peppermask would have already heard the gossip and told him as such.

“And it’s past time for Snowkit to be apprenticed, too. Sandstorm’s been dropping ‘hints’ all day that she thinks Tigerclaw is going to pick her to be his mentor. It’s her time, or whatever.” The molly rolled her green eyes with great exaggeration. “I was about ready to claw her mouth shut on patrol!”

Fireheart hesitated. It was clear that Snowkit’s deafness, and his being held back, wasn’t common knowledge around camp. Was it fair for him to share it with Peppermask? As he glanced towards the nursery, he could see that Speckleflight had separated him from Cinderpaw and was now busily grooming his head and face. Perhaps Peppermask was right, and Snowkit would be apprenticed today after all.

“There!” The tabby beside him gasped, and he looked over to see Bluestar emerge from her den and immediately scale the Highrock. Even before she said a word, the Clan started to swarm out from around the clearing.

“All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!” The Thunderclan leader called out proudly, watching her warriors assemble beneath her. “As you all surely know by now, Brokentail and his rogues were indeed planning to invade our camp. Already they had been stealing prey from our territory.”

There were jeers and hisses at her words, and he noticed a few cats glance back towards the prison where Darkstripe was guarding with a scowl. Word had also spread of Brokentail being held prisoner, and while the Clan had accepted Bluestar and Yellowfang’s word on the matter, it was clear that they had mixed feelings about it. Fireheart couldn’t blame them: Even though Yellowfang was true to her word and hunting and caring for him, he still felt strange about protecting the kit-killer after they had taken in his victims.

“Each warrior in the patrol performed their duties admirably. Fireheart, Dustleap, Longtail and Mousefur acted with great courage and risked their lives to make sure our camp remains safe. Thunderclan honors each of them.” There were excited and envious murmurs at her words, and he noticed several cats stealing a glance towards where he was sitting. He ignored them, keeping his eyes focused on Bluestar.

“However, there is one cat on the patrol that acted just as bravely as each of these warriors, who has not yet received her name.” All eyes now turned towards where Cinderpaw was sitting, near the middle of the crowd. The dark gray molly sat as still as stone, but her tail tip rattling furiously betrayed her excitement. “Her mentor and I have agreed: she has earned her warrior name. Cinderpaw, step forward.”

She did so readily, her dark blue eyes as wide as the moon as she gazed up at the silver queen. “I, Bluestar, leader of Thunderclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn.” Their twin blue gazes were locked on each other now. “Cinderpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

The young molly’s body was shaking all over now, yet she still nodded determinedly. “I do!” She yowled, her voice echoing through camp for all to hear. Several cats stifled a chuckle, Fireheart among them.

“Then by the powers of Starclan, I give you your warrior name. Cinderpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Cinderspark. Starclan honors your valor and quick thinking, and we welcome you as a full warrior of Thunderclan.” Bluestar jumped off the Highrock to meet the new warrior, and rested her muzzle on the dark gray molly’s forehead before allowing her to lap respectfully at the leader’s shoulder.

“Cinderspark! Cinderspark!” Fireheart called along with the rest of the crowd, glancing towards the healer’s den as he caught sight of movement. Mistspring stood next to the rocky entrance, her own icy blue eyes glittering with pride as she watched. He could see that her throat was covered in white cobwebs; she was still recovering from her wounds, and he guessed she was under healer’s orders not to use her voice.

The rest of the crowd parted as they caught sight of her, allowing the former mentor through to the newly-appointed warrior. He saw her mouth move slightly as a few quiet words were exchanged before they gently touched noses. As Mistspring began to move back towards the healer’s den, the crowd quickly pressed in, eager to welcome Cinderspark into the warrior ranks.

Fireheart joined them, watching as the newest warrior beamed in pride as she welcomed congratulation after congratulation. “Well done.” He mewed softly to her, touching noses with her softly. “I knew you could do it.”

“Thank you, Fireheart.” He paused as she replied, glancing back at her sparkling blue eyes. “For believing in me, despite everything.”

“Of course.” He dipped his head before continuing on, allowing Peppermask to greet her sister as a warrior. He fondly thought of his own warrior ceremony, as much of a blur as it was from how exhausted he had been. At least Cinderspark wouldn’t have to sit vigil with those mourning, like he had. Tonight would be a night of triumph for her.

He was just about to pad away when he heard a loud yowl from the crowd. “Wait!” He turned to see Speckleflight glaring at Bluestar, who had begun to make for her den. “There’s still one more ceremony to be performed tonight.” The pale golden queen growled, her yellow gaze locked on the leader. “I’ve waited long enough: it’s time to make Snowkit an apprentice.”

While the cats in the crowd perked their ears in curiosity, Bluestar’s own ears flattened in anger. “I’ve already had this conversation with you far too many times, Speckleflight.” She snapped, her blue eyes narrowed to slits. “My decision is final.”

“He deserves a ceremony!” The oldest queen howled, the fur on her spine beginning to raise. “Would you truly make him stay in the nursery forever?”

The silver leader’s scruff started to rise in response. Cats around them whispered eagerly, Cinderspark’s ceremony momentarily forgotten in the sudden drama, and Bluestar glanced towards them with a frown. After a long moment, she sighed and forced her fur to flatten. “If you insist on Snowkit leaving the nursery, Speckleflight, then I suppose I have no choice but to agree.” 

She began to ascend the Highrock once more as Speckleflight grinned triumphantly. Fireheart wanted to celebrate with her, but something about the leader’s flicking tail told him to hesitate. “Snowkit, step forward.” She called out, gazing out at the white kit sitting near the nursery still.

Snowkit stepped forward at his mother's coaxing, looking surprised and a little nervous as Bluestar glared down at him. "Snowkit. The time has come for you to move to the elders' den." There were gasps of shock at her words. Most of the Clan wasn't aware of the young tom's deafness, so such a move would no doubt confuse them. “I will have Dewpaw arrange you with a suitable nest."

The gathered cats eyed each other uneasily as Snowkit stood there, his head tilted in confusion. After several moments of tense silence, Speckleflight came to stand beside her kit. "He won't be going to the elders' den without me." She growled defiantly at her leader as she rested her tail on her son's flank.

Several heartbeats passed. Even though the air was freezing, his fur felt hot from the tension between the two. At last, the leader dipped her head in acknowledgement. "Very well." Bluestar replied coldly. "Speckleflight. Is it your wish to retire to the elders' den?"

Fireheart shifted nervously as he watched the two mollies face each other down. "If you make us, then yes." The dappled golden queen snapped, the fur on her spine beginning to rise.

The silver leader ignored her attitude and continued on. "Thunderclan honors you, Speckleflight, and all the moons of service you have given us in the nursery. May it be Starclan's will that you have many moons of rest."

It was then that Fireheart realized the disparity between the two elder ceremonies, and he grimaced uncomfortably. It was clear that Bluestar cared very little for Snowkit, which seemed so uncharacteristic of her normal motherly demeanor towards the rest of the Clan. 

He glanced at where Cinderspark was standing as Speckleflight began herding Snowkit towards the other elders, and saw the dark gray molly's tail was bristling out of anger for her friend. Still, if she had any objections, she didn't voice them.

“Clan dismissed.” Bluestar called, and the rest of the Clan immediately started gossiping amongst themselves. A kit going straight to the elders’ den was unheard of. And while Speckleflight was the oldest queen in the nursery, it had been assumed - expected, even - that she would have another litter after Snowkit. What would her retirement mean for the nursery?

“Fireheart…?” He glanced over to see Peppermask padding over to him. “You don’t look surprised. Did you know…?”

“I-” He glanced back at the elders’ den. Smallear seemed to be leading Snowkit into the den, presumably to get him a nest, while Rosetail and One-eye were pressed into Speckleflight’s side in comfort. “Back in leaf-fall, the Gathering after I became a warrior, I overheard Speckleflight talking to Bluestar about his apprentice ceremony. Bluestar said she wouldn’t give him one, but I didn’t know why until recently.” He looked back to meet her questioning gaze. “Snowkit is deaf.”

“That’s why…? Oh. Oh.” Peppermask looked past him to the elders’ den. “I- I guess I can see that. Most elders retire once they’re no longer able to hear certain sounds. I guess I can see the logic in it, but to never even give him a name seems cruel.” 

Fireheart hesitated. He didn’t know where he stood on such matters. He was still new to the Clan and its ways, and while he knew why Bluestar had done it, some part of him agreed with Peppermask. He had seen the delight on Snowkit’s face when pretending to spar with Cinderpaw - a delight he remembered well from sparring with his friends as an apprentice. It felt cruel of Bluestar to never give him the chance to experience that for himself.

“Graystripe!” He blinked out of his thoughts as he heard Peppermask call her brother’s name, and turned to see the gray tom exiting the bramble entrance. “Where have you been?”

He looked startled to see them, his yellow eyes wide as they flicked back and forth between his sister and his friend. “I- uh- I was just taking a walk. Enjoying watching the snowflakes falling and all that. What happened? Why is everyone gathered around the Highrock?”

“Cinderspark got her warrior name. You missed it.” Even though he didn’t look at her, he could feel the tense anger in Peppermask’s form beside him. Obviously, she wasn’t pleased with Graystripe in the slightest. “And Speckleflight and Snowkit-”

“She did?” Graystripe gasped in surprise. “I better go congratulate her then! Thanks for letting me know.” He breezed past them, not even bothering to listen to the rest of her words. The gray spotted tabby stared after him, her mouth agape in shock.

“That was weird, even for Graystripe.” Fireheart observed out loud. “He doesn’t even look wet from snow-melt.” Actually, it was quite the opposite - his fur was light and fluffy, as though it had been well-groomed.

“Yeah…” Peppermask replied, her tail twitching beside him. “He doesn’t seem like he’s mourning much at all anymore. Enjoying the snowflakes falling? He’s never liked the cold. He wouldn’t be out there without a reason.”

The ginger warrior hesitated beside her. Had Graystripe lied to them? But why? Surely he knew he could trust them with anything. Even as he thought it, however, thoughts about his sister surfaced. He often lied and said he was going hunting when he visited her. But Graystripe certainly didn’t have any kittypet kin, so who would he be lying about visiting? No, he thought to himself - it must be something else.

“I guess it doesn’t matter right now.” The spotted tabby sighed, getting to her paws. “I’m going to go bring some prey to the nursery. We’re all going to have to take care of the apprentice chores, until Goldenflower’s kits become apprentices.” Her nose twitched irritably. “Unless Bluestar holds them back, too.”

He made his way past the apprentice den to the foxhole, where a gray form was beginning to push their way through, carrying a dirty mossball. “Yellowfang.” Fireheart mewed in greeting, dipping his head respectfully before taking a seat in a grassy spot near the prison entrance.

The old healer grunted acknowledgement as she squirmed through the entrance, several joints popping as she did so. She paused to shake the dirt out of her pelt, before dropping the moss-ball by her paws. “Fireheart. Tigerclaw assigned you to guard duty again?”

“The fifth time this quarter-moon.” The ginger warrior replied glumly. “I guess I shouldn’t complain too much - it’s easy enough to do. But…”

“I know, I know. You warriors prefer showing off your skills.” The grizzled molly rolled her eyes dourly. “Well, you can help supervise him while he stretches his legs. Better you than a cat like Tigerclaw, I suppose. You know they’d just claw each other’s ears off.”

Fireheart stared at her. “What do you mean, stretches his legs? In that tiny foxhole? It’s barely big enough for a cat his size to turn around!”

Yellowfang chuffed at him. “No, mousebrain. Outside the hole, out around camp. It might be cold, but the fresh air and sunlight will do him good.”

Fireheart glanced behind him at the hole, the fur on his scruff rising in apprehension. He was supposed to guard Brokentail, not take him out for a leisurely stroll. What would Bluestar think? “He’s supposed to be imprisoned.” He pointed out carefully, not wanting to get an ear-lashing from the cantankerous former Shadowclanner.

“And he’ll still be stuck in camp, won’t he? I’m not asking you to take him to go meet his old cronies.” He winced slightly at the old healer’s harsh growl. “You’ll just need to watch him. It’s not like he can go far right now.”

That was true, he thought guiltily to himself. But something about it still felt wrong. “I have to get approval from Bluestar first. If something happens…”

“Oh, for Starclan’s sake!” He folded his ears back at the molly’s outburst. Just as he opened his mouth to protest further, she shook her head and sighed. “No, Fireheart, I’m sorry. You’re only doing your duty to Thunderclan, just as I’m only doing my duty to my patients. Go on, then. I can keep watch for you while you go ask her.”

He blinked in surprise at her sudden change in mood, but nodded quickly in acceptance all the same. “Thank you.” He mewed, quickly getting up and hurrying across camp before she could change her mind instead. He slowed as he reached the lichen curtain that fell across Bluestar’s den. He had a good reason this time for visiting her, but the thought of entering her den still made him nervous. What if she got mad at him for interrupting her peace?

“Who’s there?” He jumped slightly as he heard the leader call out from within her den. “I can see your shadow, you know.”

“I- er- it’s me, Bluestar. Fireheart, I mean.” He mentally admonished himself for sounding like such a fool in front of her. “May I come in?”

“Ah.” Her tone lightened immediately as he identified himself. “Yes, of course, Fireheart. Come in, come in.”

He took a deep breath and pushed his way through the curtain. Bluestar was sitting in her nest, cleaning her whiskers with one strong yet delicate paw. “What brings you to my den? Surely you’re not just looking for my company.” He blinked as she spoke. Was that a joke from the regal queen? He wasn’t sure.

“Well, uhm, Yellowfang wants to let Brokentail stretch his legs, or something like that. For his health. I- I know you said that he’s our prisoner, and I’m supposed to be guarding him, so I, uh, wanted to ask your permission first?” He sounded like a young apprentice, his voice almost a squeak as he finished speaking. There was no reason to be afraid of her - she wouldn’t exile him for asking a simple question, would she?

The silver molly stopped cleaning herself and his heart skipped a beat as she focused her icy blue eyes on him. “Yellowfang said that, did she?” She considered the ginger warrior in front of her for several heartbeats. “And what do you think?”

He hesitated, unsure of how she wanted him to answer. “Well- I mean, only his front paws work, so I don’t really think he can run away. And it’s not like he’s going to be able to tell enemy warriors about our camp from his foxhole. Not unless we got more prisoners, which I don’t see happening, I mean unless some other leader goes rogue and-”

“Fireheart.” He startled a bit as she spoke, looking up from where he’d been staring at his paws. “You can relax, you know. I’m your leader; I’m here to help you, and the Clan.” He realized she was staring at him in concern now. “Is something besides Brokentail bothering you?”

He thought instantly about Tigerclaw and his treachery. He could tell her the truth, all of it, right now. They were alone, and even Tigerclaw was out on patrol. No one else would overhear, or even know.

But he knew better than that. He had no proof for his accusations; not yet, anyways. “I- Well, it is about Brokentail. At least a bit.” He fibbed, recalling the fear he’d felt when he thought he had killed the rogue leader. “I’m the reason Brokentail went under that Monster’s paws. I was chasing him, and he wasn’t looking where he was going, and- he couldn’t stop in time.” He dug his claws into the dirt, remembering the moment with such crystal clarity. “I thought I killed him. The warrior code, it says not to kill other cats, but-”

He stopped himself, taking a deep breath in and out. Though he had been fibbing, at least at first, part of him was terrified of what Bluestar might say at his admission. But when he looked back up at her, her gaze was filled with that familiar motherly warmth and compassion.

“What happened to Brokentail is not your fault. It is his. If he had followed the code, we would not have needed to chase him out. He would not have been sheltered in that old Twoleg nest, with the other rogues. And he is the coward that chose to run, rather than stand and fight you. You are a good warrior, and you have beaten him before, but your victory the second time was hardly a sure thing.”

He relaxed at her soft mew, soothing a wound in his mind he hadn’t known was there. “As for the code, Brokentail was not bound to it or its laws the moment he chose to abandon it. Killing him would have fallen outside of the code.” She stepped out of her nest, coming to stand in front of Fireheart and gently nosing his forehead in comfort. “If you had killed him for good that day, I do not think a soul in Thunderclan - or even Starclan - would have blamed you.” She murmured softly into his ear.

He stared at the ground in front of him for a moment, nodding slowly. That had been about what Longtail had said to him, in the heat of the moment. But he knew that the skinny tabby had had his own reasons for wanting Brokentail dead, and it was hard to trust his assessment. “I understand. Thank you, Bluestar.” He replied at last.

“Of course. I understand your worry, Fireheart, but I have seen your heart. No matter what happens, I have faith you will try to do the right thing. So long as that is the case, you have no reason to fear.” She stepped back, taking in his demeanor. “Now then. Is that all?”

He blinked, trying to remember why he’d come in the first place. “Er- you never said what to do with Brokentail.”

“Ah, yes.” The silver-furred leader returned to her nest. “He may walk around camp at Yellowfang and his guard’s discretion. I agree with your assessment: even if he tried to escape, I doubt he’d get up the side of the ravine, so long as his back legs are broken.” She lapped at one paw for a moment, before pausing. “You can tell Tigerclaw and the other warriors that, as well.”

He nodded quickly at her words. “Of course. Thank you, Bluestar.” 

Just as he turned to leave, he heard her cough. “Ah - but he is not to go within one fox-length of the nursery. You can tell them that, as well.”

He glanced back at her, his head tilted in confusion. “May I ask why, Bluestar?”

She paused for a second before sighing. “It’s as much for his safety as for the kits’. You’ll surely remember that it was under his orders that Goldenflower was attacked and her kits stolen.” She shivered slightly at the memory. “I have no doubt that Frostfur remembers, as well. I would rather not have any… unfortunate incidents resulting from him straying too close.”

He also shivered at the thought. He remembered how Frostfur had verbally attacked Ravenspirit, back when he had only been trying to bring water to her kits. Ravenspirit had been her Clanmate, and she had watched over him since he was a kit with the other queens. How she might react to a cat that had already threatened her kits and her mate… “Of course, Bluestar. I’ll let Yellowfang know, as well.”

“Good.” She flicked her tail to dismiss him, and he quickly pushed the lichen out of his way and hurried across camp, to where Yellowfang was waiting.

“Well?” The healer asked him with her typical scowl. “What did Bluestar say?”

“She said that he can leave the foxhole if his guard allows it, but that he’s not allowed within a fox-length of the nursery.” Fireheart summarized quickly as he took up his spot in the dry grass next to the prison, puffing his fur up against the cold.

Yellowfang snorted dismissively at his words. “Why? Does she think he’s going to steal some kits away under our noses?” She grumbled, rolling her eyes at the thought.

“No, but the queens might think that.” He replied steadily, glancing towards the nursery. Frostfur and Goldenflower had taken their kits out of camp to frolic in the snow; they were four moons old, now, and getting too big for the nursery to contain them. “You treated Goldenflower’s wounds. Surely you remember what Brokentail’s rogues did to her.”

“Ah.” The gray molly dipped her broad head in understanding. “Yes, I remember. And queens can get very protective of their kits- especially their first litter.” She sighed and glanced over her shoulder to the foxhole. “Very well. Even avoiding the nursery, there’s still plenty of camp for him to walk around in. I’ll go fetch him, then.”

She disappeared into the dark of the prison, momentarily leaving Fireheart alone with his thoughts. He glanced over camp, but most warriors were out hunting or patrolling the borders; Dustleap was keeping a watchful eye over camp from near the nursery, while the elders were bickering in the sunlight. He winced a bit as he noticed Snowkit among them, batting a mossball back and forth with his mother and One-eye.

He turned as he heard Yellowfang shoving her way through the entrance, Brokentail’s scruff in her jaws. It was a tight squeeze, especially with two broad-shouldered cats, but she somehow managed to push her way through. “Now then. Practice those exercises I showed you; your back won’t get better unless you make it.” She deposited him gently in the dirt, before stooping to pick up the dirty mossball she had dropped.

“What, you aren’t going to stay?” Fireheart asked, alarmed. He had been expecting to watch her chaperone the exile around camp, not swiftly disappear as soon as she had dragged him out.

She rolled her copper eyes at him. “I need to go take this dirty moss to the dirtplace, then hunt for him. I’m sure you can manage to watch him.”

“Well- but- I-” He stammered out, watching helplessly as she proceeded to ignore him and cross camp towards the bramble tunnel. He knew logically that the former Shadowclan leader couldn’t hurt him, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be alone with him either.

“What’s the matter, kittypet? Scared you can’t beat me in a fair fight?” Brokentail taunted as he stretched his claws out to the sky. Fireheart glanced down at the tabby tom, whose legs were wrapped in a combination of sticks, cobwebs, and bindweed. Even though they now looked normal, they still dragged uselessly in the dirt behind him - it would be months before he would potentially be able to walk with them again, if all of Yellowfang’s knowledge worked.

“I’m not a kittypet.” The Thunderclan warrior snapped wearily. He knew better than to give the rogue any reason to bicker with him, but he wasn’t going to put up with being called a kittypet until sunset either. “I’m far more of a warrior than you ever were.”

“Your mother a kittypet? Your father a kittypet?” The prisoner sneered at him, his words like fangs looking for a weak spot.

“My mother was, yes.” Fireheart mewed steadily, but he hesitated as he thought of his father. He recalled the story Tallstar had told him, about Jake, and how they shared such similar pelts. Could that curious kittypet have been his father? He didn’t know. “I don’t know who my father is. You could be my father, for all I know.” He snorted at the thought of being related to the fleabag next to him, but he supposed anything was possible. “Though I’m sure the mere thought of you fathering a Thunderclanner is an insult to you.”

Brokentail chuckled beside him, a harsh and wheezing growl not unlike Yellowfang’s. “You’re closer to the truth than you realize.” He finally replied, rolling his head and flexing his broad shoulders.

“Well, I-” The ginger tom stopped and stared at the tabby, baffled. “What? I don’t understand. Are you saying you had a kit with a Thunderclanner?”

“Once.” Brokentail seemed to smirk as he watched Fireheart staring at him, as though he were basking in the attention he had finally gotten from his guard. “Many seasons ago, now. Don’t look so surprised; I was once quite the charming tomcat, in my youth.”

He snorted in disbelief at that. All Brokentail cared about was himself: what cat couldn’t see that? “And you loved her?” He asked the rogue incredulously.

The rogue rolled his dark eyes at that. “Hardly. She was weak, whiny, and wormbrained. A typical Thunderclanner, really. But she very much adored me, for some reason I’m sure made sense in her tiny little head.” He shook his head dismissively at the thought.

The fur on Fireheart’s scruff rose briefly before he forced it back down. The callous attitude was hardly unexpected from the dark tabby, and it wasn’t as if he ever knew the molly in question. Unless he did? He gazed out across camp, wondering briefly if he had ever met Brokentail’s mate.

“We met at a Gathering, the moon after I became a warrior. I think she was quite impressed with the tales of my strength - that’s why Raggedstar made me a warrior early, you know.” Brokentail continued, either not noticing that he had briefly lost his guard’s attention or not caring. “It wasn’t long before she was begging to meet me on the side of the Thunderpath. She even showed me some of Thunderclan territory, the little fool.”

Fireheart nodded along listlessly as he glanced over the camp, before a terrible realization jolted through him. “That’s how you knew where our camp was.” He mewed accusingly, glaring at the prisoner as his claws dug into the dirt.

“Hmm.” Brokentail gave him an appraising look, sending shivers up his spine that he did his best to hide. “So even a kittypet is smarter than Thunderclanners? I suppose I can’t say I’m surprised.” The tom scoffed, flicking his ear dismissively as he looked away. “She didn’t show me, but she was such a predictable creature. Took the same path back to camp every time. You can hardly blame me for following her on a few occasions, can’t you? Surely you would do the same in my place.”

Fireheart’s lip curled in disgust. “I wouldn’t, actually. I don’t need to know where the other Clans’ camps are, because I’m not a murderous tyrant bent on driving them all out.”

The codebreaker shrugged, unbothered by the hostility in his voice. “Your loss, then. A good warrior never turns away from a potential advantage.” He examined his paws as though checking for dirt in between his claws. “She died on the Thunderpath, several leafbares ago. Sometimes I wonder if she was looking for me.”

The warrior blinked in shock at the indifference in Brokentail’s voice. “Did you kill her?” He asked, forcing his fur to lay flat. It would hardly be the first murder that the dark tabby had committed, after all.

The exile gave him a long, cold stare out of the corner of his eye. “I didn’t need to. She wasn’t a threat to me.” He replied at last, before lapping at one dirty paw.

“And those kits you murdered were threats?” Fireheart challenged.

Brokentail scoffed again. “Those kits were weak. I was merely training them and they died. They never would have survived a battle, even if they survived leafbare.” The cold exile’s features softened suddenly. “That Thunderclan molly bore a single kit before she died. A tom, she said. She said he looked just like me, and that she’d bring him to meet me when he was old enough.” He shook his broad head wistfully. “He probably died without her. Thunderclan kits do tend to be so weak.”

His eyes widened in shock. Brokentail had had a son- a Thunderclan son? His mind suddenly was racing with possibilities. Many cats had died in the leafbare before he had joined the Clan, warriors especially. It was equally likely that Brokentail was right - his son could have died without his mother to care for him, especially if he hadn’t been old enough to leave camp at her death.

He gazed across camp, where Dustleap sat watching vigilantly. He looked so much like his father, Tigerclaw, with his narrowed eyes and dark tabby stripes. They had the same broad shoulders and wide head, just like Brokentail.

 A thought suddenly sprang to his mind. Tigerclaw had no siblings, and his parents had died long before Fireheart had joined. He knew all too well that the two shared the same black heart and ignorance of the code. They even had the same long fur and amber eyes.