Greenleaf in the valley was something magical. Every night, as the town lights dimmed, the world came alive with fireflies, dancing and twinkling like their own personal stars. Cicadas screamed- they were always screaming, he reflected- and grasshoppers chirped. And though the murky heat made ones pelt damp, no Clan need worry about someone going cold or hungry.

It was to such an applause that Dovestar of TreeClan hopped out of his tree and to the ground. The lanky gray tom had been leader for three seasons now, and he looked like it. White tinged his muzzle, which held an overbite. 

Dovestar broke into a trot with a grimace, hating the sensation of grass on his hard pawpads. The greatest downside to protecting TreeClan was that he, like any medicine cat, had to frequently leave the trees. It felt wrong.

Eventually, he reached the Great River and sat down, tail lashing with impatience. The waters wound through all four territories and beyond, and many cats considered it a place of peace. 

"Where the fuck is she?" he grumbled. "Ashstar is the one who called the damn meeting in the first place."

Out of the night came a familiar tabby gray pelt. The molly was over twice Dovestar's size, in both height and width, and held herself with an obnoxiously proud air. Around her neck sat a piece of deer horn.

"You know how MeadowClan is," Stagstar meowed coolly. "Always fashionably late."

"You're one to talk," Dovestar snorted. "You're just as late as she is."

She shrugged, sitting down beside him. Her fluffy tail could bowl him over with ease. "Not as late as Ashstar is going to be."

Next came a brown and white tabby tom. He was only slightly bigger than Dovestar, which was odd in its own right. "Peace, my friends! Tonight is a night to be enjoyed. No need to run around like chickens with their heads cut off."

"Petal," Stagstar greeted, as Dovestar grunted; "Petalstar."

If Petal took offense at Dovestar's flagrant disregard for BurrowClan tradition he didn't show it, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. He took his own seat at the edge of his territory, across the Great River.

"Oh, so now you know the edges of your territory?" The TreeClan tom snapped.

Petal chuckled. "Your insults are weak tonight, old friend. What's on your mind?"

"On my mind?" Dovestar echoed, clawing at the grass. "What do you think is on my mind, bird-brain? MeadowClan's out here calling all of us together like they have the damn right, and then Ashstar doesn't even show up!"

"Probably another 'message'," Stagstar mused. "MeadowClan always likes to think StarClan talks to them alone."

"It's not a message."

The leader's heads snapped up as the final cat padded into view. In her heyday, Ashstar had looked fiercer than the common badger, her black fur billowing like clouds of her namesake. Tonight she simply looked old, whiskers drooping, tail dragging the ground.

Petal stood as she approached, dipping his head respectfully. "You look terrible."

Ashstar stared the BurrowClan tom down a long moment, as if deciding if it was worth it, before sighing and sitting down. Her long black tail wrapped around her paws as her shoulders slumped.

"Whitefall is dead," she meowed quietly.

Stagstar's ears pricked in surprise. "Your youngest medicine cat?"

Ashstar nodded. "Injuries of dogs, they said. He was bitten at Judgement's Eye."

There was a pregnant pause as the leaders contemplated this. Judgement's Eye had always had Twolegs nearby, and they had always had dogs. But...

"No cat's ever been attacked during the Half-Moon before," Dovestar meowed eventually. 

Petal risked a glance at Dovestar and Stagstar before asking, "Do you think it was Asp-"

"DON'T SAY THAT TRAITOR'S NAME!" Ashstar yowled, her fur bristling. She glared at Petal a moment before going on. Her voice was slow with untapped anger. "No. It was not her. They weren't organized enough. There was no... no order."

She slumped against the grass, defeated. "StarClan didn't protect us."

Splash! The water of the Great River shook as Stagstar leapt into it, spraying Dovestar. The lanky tom spluttered as she swam across with careful precision, coming onto land at Ashstar's front.

She set a soggy paw on the MeadowClanner's shoulder. "You can't blame yourself for the star's oversight," she meowed, as steady as the water. "You have stood tall against those who wished you ill. You heard sense from BurrowClan's deputy, and you banished the pox from your land. If StarClan has taken issue with your actions, they are mistaken."

"StarClan is never mistaken," Ashstar whispered, but slowly sat back up. "But MeadowClan can't rely on the dead to care for the living. Not anymore."

"What are you suggesting?" Petal asked, head tilted.

"A truce. Not for forever-" Ashstar hurried to add as Dovestar opened his mouth. "We need to hunt that traitor down." Her claws shredded the grass with purposeful intent. "We need to show StarClan we have heard."

"Aspenfrost is of no concern to TreeClan," Dovestar meowed sharply, unbothered by the way Ashstar tensed at the warrior's name. "Dogs can't climb trees."

"Little ones can," Stagstar corrected.

"Not high enough to cause my Clanmates harm."

Petal padded to Ashstar, crossing the border. "BurrowClan is with you," he meowed solemnly. "I know Brownheart wants to be rid of her after what she did to her son, and the wants of my Clanmates are more important to me than pride."

"I can't promise WildClan will follow me," Stagstar said. "That is for each of them to decide. But I will walk with you, Ashstar."

Dovestar scoffed, but relented. "Fine! Fine. Wouldn't want TreeClan to be outnumbered."

Bolstered by the praise, Ashstar stood, her pelt a smudge of shadow in the night. Fireflies flitted past, highlighting her amber eyes. "Then I propose a toast."

Gently nudging Stagstar out of her way, the MeadowClan molly crouched by the Great River, gesturing for the others to do the same.

"To the Cats of the Valley," she proclaimed. "And to StarClan's blessing."

They echoed it and drank deeply of the river.

That done, Stagstar went to specifics. "Shall we discuss more at the Gathering? Or would you rather we send messages to other Clans?"

Ashstar shook her head. "I don't want to raise tensions higher by having our cats in places they should not be. We will wait for the Gathering."

"Now that that's settled, I'm leaving," Dovestar called across the water. He went to the nearest tree with vigor. "I'm sick of all this flatness."

"Typical TreeClan," Petal sighed.

Stagstar dipped her head farewell and headed back into the water. Her gait quickly became more and more slapdash, and her head breeched the water before coming to the surface again. She crawled out and looked around, eyes hazy.

"Something's... wrong," she slurred.

"I'm going home," Dovestar repeated, but his voice was soft and distant, as if he were in a dream. He took a running leap at the tree, dug his claws in....

And fell. 

"Dovestar!" Stagstar yelped, totting over to him. Whatever was happening had clearly hit the WildClan cat the hardest, and she just barely managed to come up on his side before collapsing in a furry pile.

"Oh," he continued, looking at his paws. "Look at that. I'm a Fallen Bird." Dovestar let out a warped cackle before touching Stagstar's pelt, running his claws through it. "Hey. Hey. I always wondered. Why are you Stagstar? Why not Doestar?"

"My first was a stag," she rasped, guiding his paw to the antler around her neck. "Never thought my last would be, too."

"Friends!" Petal cried, stumbling into the water. He slapped his paws fruitlessly as he tried to come across. "I'm coming... friends..."

Ashstar laid down, head spinning. She managed to peek open an eye just as Petal went underwater before closing it again, falling into a deep sleep.

By the time morning patrols came, it was far too late