#suntuft

"I--well--" As if she were facing down a roaring Monster thundering down upon her, Brightstorm, confronted by Eagleburn, lost all her words. Suntuft was bristled against her, protectively standing over her still-recovering sibling.

Eagleburn lifted his tail, indicating a desire for silence.

"I won't out you to Bayspots," Eagleburn said softly, "As I'm as much to blame as you. I..."

He hesitated, and sensing Suntuft's aggression, he took a step back to provide the two she-cats room.

"I care deeply for you, Brightstorm. I always have. I never would want to hurt you."

Brightstorm loathed how her heart sang at those words. She was so deprived of affection from Bayspots that those simple words from Eagleburn had her feeling head-over-paws, and she ached from the bittersweet knowledge that there was one cat who cared for her so deeply, but it wasn't the one she had made her vows to.

"We don't have time for this." Suntuft's voice was sharp, piercing the tension and cutting off the two. "Whatever you two have going on, it's none of my business, but we don't have long until sunrise. Will you help us?"

Brightstorm blinked, surprised at her sister's bold question. Eagleburn had said he would not out her to Bayspots or the other cats, but he never implied he would help. These were his kits, certainly, but he just as much to lose as her among their peers were their affair to be revealed. He would be better off cutting his losses, and leaving Brightstorm to do damage control.

Hesitantly, she peered back at Eagleburn from her sister, noting his contemplative look.

Finally, he nodded.

"... Yes. Tell me what to do."

And thus brought them to their present moment. Some cats had already begun to exit their dens by time they entered camp, and Brightstorm keenly felt their eyes upon her. Pelt burning hot, Suntuft bumped their shoulders together, and she blinked in appreciation.

"What is going on?"

Beewatcher pulled herself out of the medicine cat den, followed by Eagleburn's sister, Grayfade.

Eagleburn, who had taken the lion's share in carrying two of the kits, gently set them down, and spoke before either she-cat could try to summon up their practiced story.

"These are my kits," he said with such confidence that Brightstorm was rattled by it, staring on, gobsmacked, as he faced their clan with tail held high. With a flash of envy for his courage and unwavering confidence, she watched as he continued to speak to their enraptured audience.

"I had met with a rogue she-cat once, but... as we all know, it was enough." He bowed his head, and gently licked the brown-dappled kit blindly squirming around his paws on its head. "We agreed the kits would be safer here. I understand the consequences that may come from this."

By the end of his speech, more cats entered the clearing, and most importantly, Oatstar made an appearance. Brightstorm studied their leader keenly, gauging his sleep-dazed reaction as one of the warriors whispered to him what had gone on in his absence. He seemed confused and surprised, but she did not recognize any hints of displeasure or anger. Striding forward, Oatstar joined the other cats gathering around the trio.

"Suntuft, Brightstorm, is this true?"

Brightstorm straightened, doing her best to hide how sore she felt. Beewatcher studied her with interest, and Brightstorm felt her skin prickle beneath her pelt.

"Yes," Suntuft cut in, "Brightstorm was helping me to the dirt place when we found Eagleburn talking to a she-cat. We helped him bring the kits here afterwards."

Shame left Brightstorm uncomfortably warm. These were her kits, and yet, she could not manage to speak as everyone around her took control. She merely nodded along her confirmation, head bowing.

"... Well, leaf-bare is coming, and we already have so many mouths to feed..." Oatstar seemed hesitant, and Brightstorm's stomach plummeted. He had allowed Suntuft's kits! So many cats from this clan were not from it, and such was how they kept their bloodlines strong and diverse. Would he truly turn away these helpless kits?

"Nonsense."

Grayfade's stern voice broke in, and the fluffy gray-and-white she-cat lashed a solid gray plume of a tail.

"Leaf-bare is a rough season for us all, but it is no reason to turn away kits. Don't forget that these are your deputy's kits--they'll be strong and courageous warriors one day, just like Eagleburn."

Ears flattening, Oatstar did not seem pleased with this interjection, and for a moment, Brightstorm wondered if this would be the one time he put his paw down. But soon, he conceded, and quietly nodded. Relief rushed through Brightstorm like the warmth of the sun. Eagleburn's expression was unreadable, and while she knew he could not have seen Oatstar's hesitation, surely he sensed it.

"Suntuft, you're the only nursing queen right now. Would you be okay with suckling these kits?" Grayfade asked, and without missing a beat did Suntuft nod.

"Yes, of course. I had a small litter anyways."

Murmurs rippled through the clan as the three cats, now including Grayfade, scooped up the kits to take them to the nursery. Brightstorm tried not to think of how badly she wished to remain with them there, rather than turning them over to Suntuft, but she knew it was for the best. Especially given Eagleburn's sacrifice, knowing the potential fallout from their clanmates...

Looking around, a tiny, fluffy bundle kept in her mouth, she froze.

Bayspots sat in the mouth of the warriors' den, coolly watching the ongoings of the morning. When their eyes locked, Bayspots held her gaze for only a second before she turned away, going to have a word with Squirrelbite.

No, that was wrong. She remembered somewhere close. After so many wonderful moons of serving DawnClan, she had forgotten what it was like to experience the pain of significant loss, to lose cats near and dear to her. HillClan was like a terrible dream, a nightmare that she had to wake up from.

DawnClan was different. Here, she would not be separated from her friends, her family, her kin. Paradise had been found, and she would cling onto it until her final breath.

But, the pieces of her kingdom slowly began to fall away. In quiet, grieving vigil, she watched as one by one, original founders passed on to Silverpelt to watch over DawnClan from the ranks of StarClan. Lightstripe, Rimebright, Elmstripe... Even those had been mere kits when she had brought them to this safe place had passed, young Duskkit growing into Dusktree, and then falling to illness. But she kept on.

It was what she owed her clan, to swallow down this grief, and to put on a happy face, for she would dishonor the tragedy of HillClan and the hardships of her ancestors to collapse under this weight now.

So, she plodded on, watching as DawnClan grew and flourished, and swelled with pride with it. Yet, there was a darkness gnawing inside of her, eating away like maggots into an old carcass. Eventually, she'd be nothing but bones, and she did not know what she would do then, how she would hide all of these rotting feelings.

It was when Boulderfrost retired that something inside of her began to break.

"I'm tired, Darkstar," meekly Boulderfrost had begun, looking upon where her leader lay curled in her soft moss nest. "I think... I think it's time for me to join the elders. I'm ready."

Darkstar could not conceal the flash of hurt that shot across her face like a bolt of lightning in time, and she recognized Boulderfrost's guilt instantly. Turning away her head, not wanting to burden Boulderfrost more with her turbulent emotions, she knew she was right. Boulderfrost had pushed the limitations of how long she could reasonably serve in her position, and Darkstar would be lying to say she had not noticed how her hunting prowl had slowed and stiffened, how she took longer to bounce back from training apprentices, and how often she overslept and missed morning patrols.

Denial was not a pretty thing, but Darkstar wanted to play pretend. Just a little longer.

Yet, when she peered back, Boulderfrost's weary gaze forced her into reality.

"Of course," Darkstar agreed with a wise nod, swallowing the mouse-bile taste in her mouth, "We'll have the ceremony at sun-down, once everyone is back from patrol. You deserve to rest, Boulderfrost."

Relieved, Boulderfrost had bowed her head, and ducked out of the den to go and find her kits, clearly eager to be able to rest and focus on her family. Darkstar stared gloomily out into camp, watching Brightstorm and Suntuft prance over to their mother. Why could time not slow down for them all? How was it these young kits were already full-fledged warriors?

Brightstorm had recently announced her betrothal to Bayspots, and soon enough, she was sure they'd be announcing kits. It was moving too fast, like a swift river current dragging her under, and no matter how much she tried, she could not get her head above the frigid water, gulping it down and feeling it fill her lungs.

But she had to be strong for her clan. So, as promised, at sun-down, she brought together the clan, and with her perfected, put-together appearance, she proclaimed with great fondness that Boulderfrost had earned her right to the elders' den, where she could now serve her clan with her moons of wisdom.

Oatbright, a promising young cat, was selected--or, promising in her mind, blurred by growing grief, and wanting the ceremony over with. The gathering was a mix of congratulations and mild confusion, for many foresaw Suntuft as their new deputy, or Aspenmoss, one of Slatespots' kits. Oatbright himself seemed uncertain and uneasy, walking it off with tentative confidence.

But it would be okay, for Darkstar knew what she was doing, and she knew best for this clan, as StarClan had decreed for her.

Down, down did she crush her terrible feelings as she led DawnClan with confidence and pride, ignoring how her own joints began to stiffen with the changing of seasons and how much she struggled to get out of her moss nest. It was fine, for she had her clan to motivate her.

But time had other plans.

"Boulderfrost, she's..."

Brightstorm's voice, thick with emotion, felt like another surge of that raging river Darkstar was barely surviving. Behind the young she-cat, a pair of warriors carefully drug in the limp silhouette of Boulderfrost, who dangled easily from their grasp. Under the high midday sun, Boulderfrost's age seemed that much more obvious. Her pelt was thin, her body gaunt, her joints jutting out. No matter how much she rested, no matter how much fresh-kill was brought to her, like all other cats, Boulderfrost was not immortal.

Darkstar stood frozen to the spot, her paws rooted to the hard earth as Brightstorm sniffled, and the grieving wail of Suntuft splintered the peaceful day.

I'm their leader, Darkstar thought, frantic and insistent as she fixed her gaze on the ground, I must be strong, I always must be strong.

Aside from uttering quiet commands to arrange for a dawn burial and overnight vigil for Boulderfrost, she did not speak a single other word the rest of the day. She sat by Boulderfrost, thinking over and over of their journey to this land, of the happiness they shared, over the growth of these young cats they watched, and how at the cost of all of the time to earn these memories, she had lost her closest friend.

Yes, that was where it had begun. The denial she clung to like a StarClan-savior let her go. Like a scruffed kit dropped into that raging river she hated, she was helpless to the riptide tearing through her life. Soon, Burnetstripe would die to infection from kitting, and only Oatbright remained from the founding days, purposefully fixed in the position of deputy as the last remaining member of the old HillClan.

She withdrew into herself, and the bright, warm, and friendly Darkstar died with Boulderfrost that night, that vigil. The she-cat who arose in the morning was someone new, and the clan felt it.

"Darkstar--"

"Do it, or you'll be next," Darkstar hissed, pinning Softtail, panicked and wild-eyed, beneath her large paws. "Are you saying you agree with his blasphemy?!"

Oatbright swallowed, and the evening air was filled with the wailing screeches of the brawling cats. She could not tolerate the outspoken, indignant attitude of these warriors. First Softtail, trying to act as if he knew better, warning her off hunting in CopseClan territory when they were suffering from a great prey-drought in leaf-bare. Then Flickerjay, who worried over apprenticing kits at four moons rather than six, when obviously they needed the apprentices sooner than later.

Soon, the cats of DawnClan avoided speaking up around Darkstar. The last was Mottlefox, and while none spoke of it, fearing the wrath of their leader, his tragic death by a wolverine had felt entirely avoidable as he not been punished to flush it out of their territory alone.

Especially did the kits and grandkits of the founders suffer. Softtail, son of Burnetstripe, often was delegated the roughest of tasks, condemned to cleaning the dirtplace and checking fox dens for occupants. Mottlefox died for the sin of not only speaking out, but reminding Darkstar of her ancient grief with how similar in color he was to Dusktree.

Paws permanently stained red from the blood of her own clan, she knew it was her sacrifice, her burden. She had to do this for them, for they did not know better. This was her StarClan-given duty.

Roaming the forest they called home alone, Darkstar walked slow, claws flexing over the soft needle-bed. The earth was becoming moist and spongey, the fresh rain and gentle breeze signaling that leaf-bare was coming to a close, and new-leaf was on the horizon. Lifting her head and parting her mouth, she drew in the scents of the forest, and noted how she could no longer determine all of the smells as easily. They were dull, much like her fresh-kill, which now always tasted stale and bland.

Perhaps that was why she heard danger before she smelled it, whipping around with a fierce hiss and a raise of her hackles. The fox that had crept up on her snarled in turn, fierce and looking well-fed in spite of the cruel leaf-bare they had barely made it out of. Prowling towards her, the beast's muscles rippled smooth beneath its ginger pelt, and Darkstar shifted back, her spine arching.

She was too far from camp to run. Too far to call for help. And too slow with these age-worn joints to escape.

Catching her snarling reflection in the gleaming black eyes of her enemy, she suddenly froze. Behind the imposing figure of the fox, she saw movement. Gentle, like cotton on the green-leaf breeze, a pelt of sparkling stars appeared to her. One paw in front of the other, the fox did not sense what it was she looked on at in shock and amazement, and Darkstar's bristled pelt settled, and she straightened.

"Boulderfrost...?"

These moons of endless grief and strife, drowning under the weight of her duties, suddenly lifted from her shoulders. She felt light and young again as the she-cat smiled at her, warm and familiar.

Even in the face of death's glittering teeth, Darkstar could not bring herself to look away from her old friend. Her last memory of her had been on her death day, old and bedraggled. Here, with stars glittering like dewdrops in her fur, she was young again. She moved with grace, her paws nimble as she stepped around the fox, still unseeing of the StarClan cat, and walked to Darkstar.

"Hello, Darkstar," Boulderfrost meowed softly, her eyes full of warm kindness. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

Tears pricked Darkstar's eyes, and she no longer heard the fox's growls.

"It has," she agreed, overwhelmed with emotion.

Boulderfrost stepped closer, and Darkstar could smell her sweet scent. She did not care as to why she was here, or what it meant. All that mattered was this terrible loneliness that was lifting from her heart, thinking of nothing but this moment.

"It's time," Boulderfrost said, and Darkstar no longer felt afraid. The fear of mortality, both her own and others, was gone. She had died twice already and lived with the trauma of it with some struggle, and yet, here and now, as she understood Boulderfrost's words, she didn't feel any of her old fear. She just felt... Tired.

"I understand now," Darkstar whispered, the tears falling from her eyes and wetting her fluffy cheeks, "The feeling when you decided to become an elder. I'm... I'm tired, Boulderfrost. I'm tired."

"I know," Boulderfrost said, and as the fox bunched up its muscles, tired of waiting for Darkstar to make the first move, she walked closer. Boulderfrost touched noses to Darkstar, and a true peace washed over her.

Darkstar caught only a glimpse of the fox's gleaming, saliva-wet maw as it lunged, shutting her eyes. For the first time in many moons, finally, the river slowed, and she was able to lift up her head, and take in a deep breath.

"It's time to rest, Darkstar."

While they had never been particularly close, Butterflyfur and her siblings had been brought to the clan by Slatespots about the same time as she and Brightstorm had been brought by their deceased kittypet mother.

Not only that, although she hadn't thought much of it, but Butterflyfur was also one of Eagleburn's siblings. Grayfade, their other sibling, had buried herself in her medicine cat work to avoid the sight of Eagleburn in his temporary prison. Her gaze softened with sympathy, feeling bad for not checking in with the she-cat sooner.

"This must be hard on you, especially since..."

Slatespots and Creekberry had died some moons ago, and the absence of support for their kits surely must be felt. She knew she often yearned for Boulderfrost's guidance.

"It's okay," Butterflyfur interjected. "I know everything is going to be fine. Eagleburn wouldn't have done it if he didn't absolutely have to--he wouldn't betray the clan like that. But I'm still sorry it all happened."

Ears twitching, Suntuft did not know how to feel about such a statement. She and Bayspots hadn't been close, but, wasn't it a little cold to dismiss her death like that?

She could only manage to nod, looking back to the kits when one began to mewl, nudged away from her warm belly by one of the others.

Leaning over to push the kit back into place, Suntuft listened as Butterflyfur awkwardly cleared her throat.

"I just wanted to say, Suntuft, before I go--if you need any company, I'm here for you."

Suntuft paused, and peered back.

While words alone implied nothing short of an innocent offer, the hopeful, soft shine to Butterflyfur's eyes was one she recognized. She had seen it in how Brightstorm sneakily watched Eagleburn, and how she had looked at Bayspots early in their relationship. Even could she vaguely recall how Boulderfrost would occasionally look at Darkstar with similar eyes, though nothing came of it.

"... That is very kind of you, Butterflyfur, but I think I'll be fine. You should check on Grayfade."

Kind, but polite, she watched as Butterflyfur's face dropped, though if one blinked, they would have missed it. She recovered swiftly and bowed her head courteously.

"You're right--thank you for thinking about my family when yours is suffering even more."

"DawnClan is just one big family, isn't it? You're like a sibling to me, Butterflyfur."

Butterflyfur tensed, then managed a stiff smile.

"Thank you, Suntuft. I'll let you get some rest."

Carefully leaving the den, Butterflyfur made her way to the medicine cats' den while Suntuft watched after her, curious.

They never had been particularly close--where had this all come from?

With unseeing eyes, but keenly listening ears, Eagleburn betrayed no expression of whether or not he recognized his old friend's anxiety. While in other circumstances, the sturdy, broad-shouldered tom cat would have brought a sense of stability to Oatbright, here and now, he found no sense of comfort. Just a rising dread, like water filling his lungs.

"I know it's hard," Eagleburn tried again, gentler this time, "But you know the tradition. Darkstar is gone. You need to go to the Sky Splinter."

Oatbright's eyes shut tight.

Yes, this was true. In the growing blue-grey dusk, they had found her. Mangled and broken, the cruel fox that had stolen their leader from them hadn't even the grace to honor her life by taking her as a meal. But, while none would speak it, it seemed an unfortunate and fitting end for a she-cat who had brought such senseless violence to her clan in her final moons.

An old scar on his cheek ached, long since healed, but the trauma from it still haunting him. ... Would he become like that? Like her? Driven mad by slow-creeping grief until he hadn't realized his heart had frozen to his clanmates, making them enemies?

"Oatbright."

Eagleburn pushed his nose against Oatbright's shoulder, stirring him from his increasingly panicked thoughts.

"I-I'm sorry." Within the entry hollow, guarded by thick brambles and rugged, curved vines, he could hear the increasingly worried mews of the clan cats within. They knew the tradition: their new leader needed to achieve StarClan's blessing as soon as possible. They would be in disarray until then without the guiding paw of such a critical cat.

"... Okay." Breathing in a long, steadying breath, it did little to ease Oatbright's nerves, but it was good to pretend he had found his composure in front of Eagleburn. "I'm... I'm ready."

Watching Eagleburn's scarred face, waiting for a sign of doubt to flash through cloudy, blind eyes, no such signal came as the black tom bowed his head in acknowledgement, and led the way. On trembling paws, after a beat of hesitation, Oatbright followed, deliberately measuring every step to not give off the aura of a frightened, nervous kit.

The gathered cats turned to them, and he felt their eyes piercing his pelt like thorns. Suntuft and Brightstorm huddled together, and he felt a pitying stab of pain in his heart. The sisters were pillars of their clan and being closed to both the leader and the former deputy, who had also been their mother, he imagined this was hitting them the hardest. Darkstar left no kits, and those two cats were likely the closest thing she had to kin.

"DawnClan, gather below the branches of the Great Oak!"

Summoning strength to his yowl, Oatbright bounded forth. It felt wrong to claim Darkstar's spot as he dug his claws into the well-marked bark of the oak tree she had proclaimed their gathering point. Foggily, he could remember as a tiny kit watching in wonder as she rose into its branches, her sandy fur illuminated to a golden shine by the sun at her back.

Now, under a rising moon, Oatbright stood in her place, tail flagged high, and chest puffed out. Even if he felt not a drop of courage in his blood, he had to fake it. Surely, he thought to himself as he looked down upon his clan, Darkstar... She chose me for a reason. She saw something in me.

Eagleburn settled among the cats who slowly gathered. Even kits tumbled out of the nursery after their queen mothers, for this was a ritual all of DawnClan was to acknowledge, for it impacted them all.

Oatbright took another calming breath.

"As you all know, Darkstar has lost her final life," he meowed, and a ripple of sorrow pushed like a dark tide through the crowd. He did not acknowledge it, needing to maintain the little strength he had. "It is with great heartbreak that I announce this under StarClan's watch. Darkstar had brought us here to this new home, and never will her sacrifice, along with that of the other cats who came here, be forgotten."

Suntuft and Brightstorm shared a look, which Oatbright recognized. Boulderfrost, their mother, had been by Darkstar's side the whole time of their journey as DawnClan's deputy. Her passing had signaled the beginning of the end of an era:

The loss of those who still remembered HillClan.

Oatbright shivered, chilled in his dawning realization that he was all that was left. He had been nothing more than a scrap of fur, a kit barely able to find his own paws. How could he carry on these memories when he himself could not remember them all?

"I will go to the Sky Splinter tonight to gain my nine lives," he continued, paws prickling as he thought of the impending journey, "Bismuthfang, Sapbeak, and Beaverpelt."

The mentioned cats straightened up in their spots, looking to their to-be crowned leader with expectant eyes.

"You will accompany me and stand watch as I share tongues with StarClan tonight."

Pausing, Oatbright felt the waiting eyes of his clan all the keener upon his pelt. All the more distinctly did he feel the pressure of what Darkstar's death meant, and what she had done to him by appointing him as her deputy.

"... Eagleburn."

The blind tom lifted his head to acknowledge his leader, unseeing eyes fixed upon the point of his voice.

"Under the gaze of StarClan and Darkstar, you will be DawnClan's new deputy."

A new wave of voices coursed through the camp, but it was not of grief. Eagleburn was a revered and praised warrior. Even after losing his sight to a wayward hare, he had shown himself capable and strong, no different from a seeing warrior. Not only was he Oatbright's closest compatriot, but he was esteemed among their peers. He had been scarred by a snake and survived its poison after defending kits from its attack. He was the son of Slatespots and adoptive son of Creekberry, other pillars of their clan.

While he chose Eagleburn for wholly selfish reasons, Oatbright knew it would be easily masked as simply the wisest choice given Eagleburn's golden reputation and wisdom as a warrior.

Soft mews of congratulations pierced the heavy aura of grief and mixed feelings of the camp, as Oatbright was sure many of the cats felt similarly. Darkstar was beloved, but she was not the same cat as she had once been in her dying days. Her growing madness impacted them all, and while they would grieve her, they would also look to the future.

"I know that Darkstar will approve, as will StarClan," Oatbright said, reciting from memory what he recalled from his own deputy announcement, "You have served this clan already for countless moons, and now more than ever is your wisdom and courage needed."

Eagleburn, expression unreadable, paused, and then bowed his head in acceptance. It seemed he had known this was coming, and Oatbright felt a mild tug of guilt twist at his belly for not consulting his friend first on if he wanted this great responsibility on his shoulders. But... He could not do this without him. He needed him.

"Please see to the protection of the camp and myself and my patrol are out," Oatbright requested, and once Eagleburn nodded, Oatbright gave a flick of his tail-tip, signaling the gathering's end.

Help me, StarClan, Oatbright thought to the stars as he slowly eased his way down from the Great Oak to meet the warriors he summoned.

Suntuft didn't speak a single word more in teasing towards her sister after seeing how glum she was. Merely allowing herself to be guided out of camp, Suntuft behaved as normal when other warriors stepped up with warm greetings and playful energy under the cool leaf-fall sun. Brightstorm, however, could hardly muster up a polite meow, tail almost dragging as she guided them out of the camp's hollow-tree exit, and into the forest.

"Something is wrong, isn't it?"

The moment she knew they were fully out of earshot of any other cat, and after a thorough scenting of the area for nearby patrols, Suntuft cut straight to the point. She didn't like to prance around these unpleasant feelings for very long, feeling like she was walking astride a bed of stinging nettle. This behavior was unusual, and it wracked her nerves.

Brightstorm turned, and when she settled, Suntuft followed suit, sitting down and wrapping her tail about her forepaws. All the while, the sandy she-cat could not meet her eyes, looking down to the earth as though to meet her gaze was to invite StarClan's wrath. That likewise chewed at Suntuft's guts with worry.

"If this is about leaf-bare coming, I am sure Oatstar will do fine--"

"I'm pregnant."

Suntuft's mouth hung open as though waiting for prey to leap into it. Stunned, unable to complete her sentence of reassurance, she gaped for a moment longer before quickly shaking her head and regaining some semblance of composure.

"That's--why are you so upset? You always wanted another litter!"

A twinge of jealousy ran like fire ants under her fur. She was so excited for her own pregnancy, and still was she unable to escape this petty, internalized drama of competing with Brightstorm. Darkstar was dead, their apprentice days were over, and yet, could she not feel some joy for her sister? She knew how hard she had taken knowing it was better she did not kit again. Surely she should be celebrating this news with her, rather than seething in having to share Brightstorm's time in the sun.

"Mother... she came to me, in a dream," murmured Brightstorm, and Suntuft's confusion grew.

"Mother?"

"I've... I always wanted a prophetic dream. I thought it would be magical, like being blessed by StarClan. But she only came to warn me."

Suntuft was silent, musing over this knowledge. She could not quite find any jealous feelings regarding Boulderfrost visiting Brightstorm--not when it left the typically bubbly she-cat in such a depressing state. Much as she missed their mother, she would rather be spared the anxiety she scented rolling off of Brightstorm's pelt.

"If this is about how hard your first kitting was, we'll prepare for it. We know now how hard of a time you have, and we can let Beewatcher and the other medicine cats know to get ready."

Rising back to her paws, Suntuft tried not to think about how Brightstorm flinched as she bumped their heads together.

"Maybe this was destiny. You and I, pregnant at the same time? Perhaps it means something for our kits--"

"They're... they're not Bayspots's!"

Jolting back, fur fluffing out, Suntuft finally was able to meet Brightstorm's eyes. They were wild and panicked, beautiful copper flashing hints of wide at the edges from how wide they were.

"... What?"

Suntuft felt all of her feelings of self-depreciation and jealousy dissipate, like mist in the hot summer sun. All that remained was a scorching anxiety clawing its way up her back, prickling her with an unwelcome sense of foreboding.

"Bayspots has been so distant from me," Brightstorm began, and as she spoke, it was as if she could not stop. Like a sickness she needed to get out of her system, Brightstorm practically heaved as she carried on, looking on the verge of weeping hysterics.

"I don't know what I did, or what I could do, I just--ever since the kits left the nest, ever since they became apprentices, she's been skies away from me. She'll be right next to me, and it'll feel like mountains are between us, and I've been so lonely, and I--I--"

"Hey, hey."

Quieting Brightstorm, who fell into helpless sobs, with a brush of her tail against her shoulder, Suntuft squeezed in close.

"What is done is done," Suntuft murmured, and Brightstorm tucked her face against her chest.

"We are all still cats at the end of the day, not gods. We're not perfect, and we make mistakes."

But this mistake... It was huge. It would be like a volcanic eruption from the time of their ancestors, devastating and life-ruining. How would Bayspots react? Her kits? Their clan?

Lenient as they had become with the warrior code, allowing rogues and kittypets in as they have, it did not mean their fellow cats would look kindly upon this infidelity.

Thoughtful, Suntuft sat silent while Brightstorm rode out the last of her hiccupping cries, and when she spoke, it was with a tone of quiet consideration.

"... We were left behind by a dying kittypet, weren't we?"

Confused, Brightstorm looked up with red, bleary eyes.

"Yes, she brought us here for a second chance."

Suntuft nodded, as if that sentence was exactly what she needed to get the ball rolling for the idea taking root in her thoughts.

"I'm very nervous about my first pregnancy," she continued, and when Brightstorm opened her mouth to speak, she lifted her tail to silence her. "It's only reasonable that my sister help take care of me during it. Someone else can take on her duties, as our clan is currently thriving, with plenty of warriors to step up. Even in sickness, we have the means."

Brightstorm looked on in quiet confusion, but Suntuft kept speaking, tail beginning to lash as her thoughts snowballed.

"It'll be several more moons before I kit. You can stay with me in the nursery to ensure I get plenty of rest and am kept well-fed, as the upcoming leaf-bare will be difficult for a new queen. And then, when I kit..."

She looked over, and then down, down to Brightstorm's still-slim belly that would have to be kept strategically hidden for the following moons.

"You go out, you go and find prey for me, and return. You return with a litter of kits left abandoned in the cold, a rogue having left them behind. Like Beewatcher and Sunnydash, it is not unusual, cruel as it is."

Brightstorm's eyes lit with understanding, then dimmed from the grief of knowing what it will mean.

"I am sure I'll have a small litter, so I will be able to nurse them," gently Suntuft continued, and she knew just as well as Brightstorm how much this would hurt. Her own heart ached, knowing what it would mean for Brightstorm to have to separate herself from her kits, but it would be too dangerous for her to keep them. What if they looked like her affair partner? What if they looked like her?

That would be something they'd have to think of as well when explaining the rogue story, but maybe, Suntuft could lie and pretend she had birthed them, so at least if they looked like Brightstorm, the genetics could be played away.

"We'll make it work." Suntuft pressed their foreheads together. "I'll get to know all of the herbs you will need, and how to help you, so no one has to know. The medicine cats will think it is just all for me."

Brightstorm silently nodded, quick and anxious, and Suntuft gently began to groom her head, trying to soothe the anxiety she knew was not good for the young kits growing inside of her.

"... But I need to know, Brightstorm," she continued, soft as duck down, "I need to know who parented them."

Brightstorm flinched, and leaned back, hesitation visible in her face. After a long beat of patient silence, finally, Brightstorm conceded, gaze turning back downward, and ears pinning back.

Black fur slick with blood, and mouth full of Bayspots's fur as he dragged her in by the scruff, with a tenderness he did not particularly care to part unto the she-cat, he set her down softly upon the camp floor. Immediately did Brightstorm swarm them, her heart cleaving in two at the sight. Her Bayspots, her beloved Bayspots--

The ground gave way beneath her, and were it not for Eagleburn's strong, sturdy shoulder suddenly against her flank to hold her steady, Brightstorm would have collapsed.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, giving her a soothing lick to the ear, but Brightstorm was numb to it. Her eyes were transfixed to Bayspots, struggling to parse that this was reality, and not just a bad dream.

"What's going on?"

Dappleddusk trotted out, followed by Oatstar and Beewatcher. The medicine cat pulled herself by both to check on Bayspots, flashing a grim look to Dappleddusk.

"I don't know if it is wise for me to discuss it out here," quietly Eagleburn suggested, head turning in the direction of Oatstar's scent.

"If this may be a danger to the rest of us, we should know!" yowled a warrior in the growing crowd, and a chorus of meows rose in agreement. Beewatcher shifted focus to check on Eagleburn's injuries, glancing elsewhere again, but this time at Oatstar.

Their leader looked terrified, unable to mask his fear as he looked between the bloodied body of Bayspots, and how ravaged Eagleburn looked, fresh wounds still dripping onto the dry, cold earth.

"Oatstar, this is your decision," prompted Beewatcher quietly, and he quickly shook himself out. Had he not known better, he would have almost sworn that Eagleburn's blind eyes were looking coldly upon him.

"It's okay, Eagleburn," meowed Oatstar, voice lifting to feign confidence and strength, when in reality, his legs felt feather-weak. "I think it'll be better you explain what happened. Otherwise rumors might spread."

Eagleburn, quiet for a long moment, finally bowed his head in obedient acknowledgement.

"... Bayspots tried to take my life."

A gasp rippled through the gathered cats. For the first time, Brightstorm's head whipped back up, eyes blown wide as she looked at Eagleburn in shock.

"She lured me out into the woods under the pretense of discussion, and attacked me. I had only intended to knock her out and bring her back, but I..."

Eagleburn lowered his head, ears flattening. The clan was like quiet chaos--whispers of shock rippled throughout, news spreading like wildfire even to the elders' den. Some apprentices were gently shooed away from older warriors, trying to spare them the gruesome sight. But from the crowd, three cats emerged.

"You murderer!"

Sandfeather's devastated shriek split the camp in two, parting ways like a shifting tide as she rushed forward. Before she could reach Eagleburn her siblings, Sparrowshadow and Frostspots, cut her off, blocking her way to the deputy. Eagleburn stood firm, unshaken by the attempt.

"You killed her! Why would you kill her?!" Sandfeather sobbed, and Eagleburn dipped his head.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, and finally did Brightstorm find her paws, joining her kits in consoling Sandfeather. "I didn't want to, I..."

"Let's not debate morals out here."

Beewatcher's stern voice cut off any further heated debate. The young she-cat was a commanding presence, and as Sandfeather was soothed with licks and purrs from her siblings and remaining parent, the medicine cat pushed way between the groups.

"I have looked over Bayspots's body, and Eagleburn as well. His story lines up. She has black fur in between her claws, just as he has gray in his own. And by the patterns of bite and claws marks on his body..."

Eagleburn held still as she lifted a demonstrating paw, gliding it over the visible marks on his chest, neck, and shoulders.

"She was trying to go for a killing bite. Without her here with us to tell her story, there's no use throwing accusations."

The crowd quieted under Beewatcher's stern eyes, and Dappleddusk strode up, providing her daughter with the additional support of her fierce presence.

"I have one request," Eagleburn said, and all turned to him, curious.

"I would like Dappleddusk to serve as interim deputy while I prove my innocence. If that is okay with you, Oatstar."

Oatstar, hesitating, quickly nodded, not seemingly delighted to have his deputy swapped out, but seeing no good reason to argue otherwise.

"That is fine. Dappleddusk, do you agree?"

While still displaying an outwardly stern and severe mask, it wasn't too difficult to see that Dappleddusk was surprised, but likewise preening under the fact she had been chosen for such an important role.

"Of course," she meowed. "Anything for the clan."

Oatstar nodded his confirmation, and finding his voice, he waved his tail.

"Eagleburn, you will stay in the medicine cats' den for the time being while we sort this out. Brightstorm, are you in good enough condition to help prepare Bayspots's vigil...?"

Flank warmed by Suntuft's arrival, Brightstorm found the strength to nod.

"Okay. While we don't know if Bayspots really did attack Eagleburn without any other witnesses, she still deserves a proper vigil. StarClan will be her final judgment."

The camp was silent, save for Sandfeather's crying. It seemed the chaos of the moment had passed as shock overtook everything. Could such a loyal warrior have turned against their own deputy? And why would she have done such a thing?

Eagleburn knew what questions ran through all of their minds, but he had to play his part carefully. To reveal everything here and now could be a dangerous play, and for the time being, he softly meowed to Beewatcher that he was ready to follow her to the medicine cats' den.

Like a prisoner of war, DawnClan's deputy was led away by Beewatcher and Dappleddusk, the other medicine cats watching curiously from the maw of the den.