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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years

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Chapter 17

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In what little free time he was permitted in between patrols or extra long hunting missions, Tallpaw went back to visit Jake several times. All he had to do was say he preferred hunting in the Swift-Step Hills, which led up to the northern borders treeline. Jake was bolder in his exploring now that he knew the way there and back. Tallpaw never let himself stay for very long, only a brief conversation or even a wave hello, but the tiny visits were like a breath of fresh air to him. Any small moment of respite completely disconnected from his life and worries back at camp was sorely needed.

It was easy enough when he was out training with Dawnstripe, when he was too busy with her to think of much else, but he was still procrastinating a conversation with the tunnelers. Normally he wouldn’t go so close to where he knew their patrols might be working, but he was having trouble finding prey elsewhere. He’d almost given up entirely and began trailing back to camp when he spotted a large doe rabbit hopping erratically back and forth between the hollowed entrances of the tunnelers new passages. It was a newer one, dug through what may have recently been an old rabbit burrow. Tallpaw was able to sneak up on it and kill it quickly while it was looking lost. His paws sank uncomfortably into the newly scratched soil, and he winced at the feeling. He took to avoiding the tunnels altogether recently, afraid of bumping into one of the patrols and not having a graceful excuse prepared for why he hadn’t joined them yet. The last thing he needed was to accidentally collapse some fragile part of an invisible passage, so he left as quickly as he could.

It was past dawn at this point and the wind was blowing particularly strong today, bringing with it dark clouds from over the mountains, along with the damp taste in the air signaling coming rains. Tallpaw stared up at Outlook Hill, squinting against the light. Fawnleap was standing alone on top, with his claws fastened into the dirt to keep from blowing off his paws. He was stretching his neck up towards the sky, appearing to be deep in concentration. Sparrow was staring up at him from the base of the hill. Tallpaw padded up behind the small dark tom, and set his rabbit down on the ground.

“What in StarClan’s name is he doing up there?” he asked.

Sparrow didn’t turn to greet Tallpaw, but replied, “He was complaining on and on yesterday about wanting to outgrow his mentor and his siblings. So I told him there was an ancient legend that claimed if you spent long enough in a very tall place and focused all your energy on stretching up towards the sky every day that it would help you grow as much as seven mouse lengths within a season.”

Tallpaw snorted. “That’s nonsense, you can’t just will yourself to be taller. Where did you hear that?”

Sparrow looked at him “I was telling a joke,” he meowed flatly.

Sparrow’s tone of voice sounded the same no matter what he was saying. I’m not sure he knows how jokes are supposed to work... Tallpaw thought.

“Has he been up there all morning?”

“I think so.”

“You...can’t just tell Fawnleap things like that, he always takes you seriously.”

Sparrow was staring blankly back up at the spotted brown tom, who still hadn’t broken his focus. “He’s...so stupid,” he breathed, sounding almost awe-struck.

“Hey, Fawnleap may not be the brightest cat on the moor, but he means well.” Tallpaw glanced sideways at the loner. He still couldn’t get a good read on him like he could the other visitors, who seemed to always wear their emotions plainly on their pelts. “So...how are you settling in?”

“Awkwardly.” Sparrow replied. “Some of you are alright I suppose. I don’t actually mind Fawnleap when he’s not talking my ear off. He’s less prickly than others around here. But I’ll be excited to leave.”

“Oh.” Tallpaw was a little taken aback by the bluntness in his tone when he said that. “Why is that?”

“It feels like you clan cats always have to be fighting someone. I don’t want us to get tangled up in your issues with this ‘ShadowClan.’ I don’t understand why you can’t just let them hunt on the land they want and be done with it. It’s just trees and grass. Is it really worth starting some kind of war over?”

“It’s not that simple. Our land is a part of us, it’s not just anything, that’s why we defend it. We can’t give it away carelessly.”

He caught Sparrow rolling his eyes and Tallpaw flattened his ears, but he was determined not to get into an argument. Maybe Sparrow had a reason to be prickly. They weren’t visiting for happy reasons after all, and Tallpaw tried to muster some understanding for the young loner. “None of you are going to be in danger here. ShadowClan is our problem to handle. Hen is perfectly safe in our camp.”

“Sure…” Sparrow avoided his gaze and Tallpaw saw for perhaps the first time a scrap of emotion from him as a glimmer of worry darkened his gaze. There and gone just as quickly.

“You must be worried about her,” Tallpaw said sympathetically. “It must be hard seeing the cat that kitted you so sick.”

“She didn’t kit me.”

“She didn’t? Sorry, I thought Bess said-”

“She is my mother,” he said firmly, “in every way that matters. I share no blood with any of them.”

“Oh, of course. I guess I just assumed, I mean, I know kittypets get separated from their family often but I thought loners might be different--or whatever you call yourselves.”

“You don’t even know how strange you clan cats are.” Sparrow sniffed, “I guess it’s easy staying with the cats that you’re kin with. Bess, Algernon, and Reena are after all. but most of the loners I pass don’t think much about blood. You find where you belong best by yourself, and maybe it’s not with who you happened to be born with. I never even knew my blood kin. They’re either dead or left me behind. I don’t really care. There’s only ever been Hen as far back as my memory goes. She’s my family, and I don’t want her in danger. No matter what."

Tallpaw didn’t respond. He could at least understand Sparrow’s loyalty to the old cat, it wasn’t dissimilar to the loyalty a clan cat should feel to the rest of their clanmates, but even so, he couldn’t imagine not knowing his kin at all. They were the cats who brought him into the world after all. But it must be easier choosing who fits you rather than being stuck with someone you can’t please, a small voice hissed in the back of his mind, and he immediately mentally kicked himself for thinking it. How could he be so ungrateful?

He heard Sparrow mutter under his breath "I just think the others are...too trusting sometimes. It's only luck that we haven’t gotten into much trouble with strangers on our travels so far.”

“Well... Hawkheart knows a lot about healing, and he’s doing everything he can to help her. Even if he’s a bit prickly about it.” Tallpaw said.

“I understand.” It didn’t sound like he actually did. “It must be a big ask for him to help some cat that didn’t happen to be born here.”

Sparrow’s voice made it hard to tell if he was being sarcastic.

Just in case he was, Tallpaw said “if we had more reliable resources it would be easier for us to be generous to every cat, but we only have what our territory provides, and most of the time it’s only enough for us.”

Sparrow narrowed his eyes at him. “Well you had no problem helping that dopey barncat past the moor.”

Tallpaw stiffened.

“I wasn’t following you if that’s what you’re thinking.” Sparrow continued. “You told us to stay near the trees, and Reena saw him wandering around a couple days ago, and then I saw you wandering after him. You don’t sneak around very well.”

“Oh--! Well, that’s--um…” Tallpaw sputtered. He really thought he’d been doing a good job at keeping that secret.

Sparrow rolled his eyes. “I won’t tell your clanmates if that’s what you're worried about. Neither will Reena if you don’t want her to, we’re not tattle-tails. If you want to frolic with a pet, go nuts for all I care. I don’t want to get tangled up in your...weird hang ups about outsiders or whatever. I have no reason to get you in trouble with your dad, I’m not holding a grudge against you for tackling me or anything.”

“Oh. Um.” Tallpaw gulped. “Well...thanks. I think.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t be interested in talking to your dad for any reason. That sandy tom is your dad, right?”

Tallpaw blinked. How much had Sparrow been watching to even take note of that?

“I supposed I was worried you’d be just as rude and stuck up to us as him. We all make a point of avoiding him.” Sparrow said.

“I’d thank you not to talk about my father like that.” Tallpaw hissed defensively. “You don’t understand the pressure we’re under, and he’s doing more to protect our clan than any other cat right now.”

Sparrow looked a little surprised at Tallpaw’s shift in tone. Tallpaw was too, but his father was a great cat, and if he was rude to Sparrow it was probably because Sparrow was rude to everyone.

Sparrow blinked. “Sorry? I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I mean, I figured him being unpleasant was just an obviously observable fact. He snapped at me just for sitting here earlier. ‘Said he had gone all over looking for you and was annoyed that I didn’t know where you were, but I don’t see how that’s my fault. I guess he wants you for something. He’s waiting around camp.”

Tallpaw stared at him, “Wait, was that this morning? Why didn’t you start with that if you knew he was looking for me!?”

“Umm…” Sparrow trilled in thought. “Because I think he’s rude and annoying and I didn’t feel like doing him a favor? I say you should ditch him.”

“For StarClan’s sake! You have a lot of nerve calling any cat rude! I don’t have time for this!” Tallpaw picked up his rabbit and started dragging it around the hill. Before he disappeared into camp, he called over his shoulder, “and tell Fawnleap you made up that story! Clan cats don’t have time to mess around!”

It must be so easy for Sparrow, never having to defend anything and tagging along with his friends. He didn’t even seem to care much about the other cats in his group save for Hen and himself. Sparrow clearly didn’t know what it meant to care about anything bigger than his own paws. Tallpaw decided it was better not to try making friends with the loner after all, the last thing he needed to be doing was hanging around a cat that was antagonizing Sandstone. If Sparrow wanted to brood off on his own, then he could do what he liked and then he could leave with his friends and Tallpaw wouldn’t have to think of him ever again. Meanwhile, Sandstone was working his paws off trying to deal with so much. And I should have been back sooner…! His tail drooped, and the brief feeling of respite he’d had traveling to the woods near the farm was swept away. It was irresponsible to be going in the first place.

In camp, Tallpaw was surprised to see Sandstone talking with Dawnstripe. Dawnstripe looked a little exasperated, but she smiled at Tallpaw as he approached.

He held his rabbit up a little higher as he trotted past them. I hope at least this makes a good excuse for taking so long.

“Great catch!” Dawnstripe called, “I wish I’d seen it, your hunting is coming along well.”

Tallpaw looked expectantly at his father, who seemed a bit distracted but eventually nodded to him, and to his immense relief he didn’t look angry to be kept waiting.

“Yes, good job Tallpaw. I’ve been looking for you! I’ve been wanting to talk to you about our project.”

“O-oh, sure ok.” Tallpaw said through muffled fur, and hurriedly went to put his catch with the rest.

“Great news, don’t worry about moor training today. You’ll be joining me on an important excavation,” Sandstone said as soon as Tallpaw scurried back over to them.

“If you want to,” Dawnstripe added quickly. “And only if you have the energy for it after your errand. It’s a sudden change of plans, but Heatherstar has agreed that all apprentices should learn more about tunneling so they know how to be safe around them. Sandstone thinks today is a particularly good day for it.”

“And it is! Now is the perfect time, don’t you agree?”

Tallpaw felt his stomach clench with fear as his father looked into his eyes. This was too sudden. Go into the tunnels today? He hadn’t had time to prepare himself. By habit, he immediately started rushing through his head for an excuse to ease himself out of it.

Dawnstripe gave him a knowing look. “It only has to be some basics and safety tips, at least knowing what fragile places not to go running over.”

But Tallpaw knew his father, and he knew there was no way he was going to be satisfied with that.

The look Sandstone was giving him confirmed just that. “We’ll start with the basics and then get more in depth from there. Tallpaw can’t be kept away from his true calling forever, Dawnstripe. I think he’s been patient long enough. He’s waited moon for this!”

Sandstone’s voice glowed with an almost triumphant pride. Dawnstripe narrowed her eyes at him and Tallpaw suddenly remembered how he’d confessed to Dawnstripe on his first day how much he hated tunneling, but he hadn’t told her about not admitting that fact to his father.

Before she could say anything, Tallpaw spoke first, feigning a confidence that he didn’t feel. “Alright, I'll try it.”

“Excellent! See Dawnstripe? I knew he’d be excited for it.” Sandstone purred.

Tallpaw gave his mentor a wide-eyed desperate look. Please don’t say anything about it! Dawnstripe’s gaze was confused, and tinged with concern, but all she did was nod slowly and say, “Well, be careful. Follow all the rules.”

Tallpaw dipped his head to her quickly as Sandstone began herding him away back out of camp. Just one day, I owe it to him to try...maybe it won't be so bad. It was difficult to really believe that. A patrol of Plumclaw, Woollycloud, Crowfur, and Mistmouse were waiting for them.

Woollycloud blinked in surprise when he saw Tallpaw. “Good morning Tallpaw, I didn’t know you’d be joining us today.” He looked questioningly at Sandstone.

“Glad to see the young cat!” Crowfur said, “the more the merrier. Or the muddier, as I always say.”

Plumclaw winced and rolled her eyes at the terrible joke but she waved her tail at him in a welcoming gesture.

“I caught Dawnstripe before she went out with him again,” Sandstone said. “This will be an important step in our bigger project and I knew Tallpaw couldn’t miss it. When he gets farther in his tunneler training, this will provide invaluable experience.” Sandstone nudged Tallpaw “You're witnessing the beginning of history you know. WindClan’s future will have a reformed network that will make us safer and stronger than ever, and you’re finally going to be a part of that.”

Tallpaw nodded, trying and failing to work up the same level of enthusiasm.

Mistmouse cocked her head “I thought we were just doing another routine check of our recently enforced tunnels today?”

Sandstone shook his head “We were, but as I was inspecting them ahead of time, I noticed the tunnels in the eastern field have finally fully thawed underground and the dampness will make the walls easier to press together without it crumbling. It’s a perfect opportunity to reinforce it before any bad weather.”

Woollycloud narrowed his eyes in concern. “But we haven’t been able to confirm that the soil is stable enough to tunnel there. The moisture could make the roof heavier as well, and there's a rabbit warren very near the area we’d risk disturbing.”

“Don’t worry so much Woollycloud, trust me! It’s perfectly stable, and if it’s not, we’ll deal with it as we always do. But we have a limited window to show Heatherstar real progress so she’ll understand why this is a good idea! Now let’s go. Keep up Tallpaw, I’ll run you through the basics on the way.”

The anxiety pricking at Tallpaw’s stomach didn’t ease much as Sandstone rattled through the rules of tunnel etiquette as they walked. The exact distance to keep between yourself and the tunneler ahead of you, how to pack dirt to the side to keep it out of the way and reinforce walls, how to use your whiskers and nose instead of your eyes to feel the walls of the tunnel and sense the direction you were going, how to feel vibrations that signified the tunnel wall was unstable. He had a faint memory of Sandstone rambling off these things to him as a kit when he practiced, but it had been just as incomprehensible then. When the spiel finished, Tallpaw’s head was spinning and he found the more desperate he was to keep the information in his mind, the faster it would slip out again.

They arrived at the stretch of ground Tallpaw had tried hunting near earlier where the grass thinned out and damp earth poked through in patches. Sandstone led the patrol to a dip and Tallpaw saw a small area where the earth sloped down into a very narrow, very dark, and very cramped looking hole, just big enough for a cat to get through. He gulped.

“It gets wider once you're inside. The entrance is a bit small.” Woollycloud said, clearly noticing the tension in Tallpaw’s body.

“This will be just like the digging practice you did as a kit.” Sandstone said. “We’re going to check out the inside and see which branched off areas are sturdy enough to fix up and expand. This will be the entrance of the tunnel that comes out on the ShadowClan border, if we can get it that far. It will be long and complicated, but that’s intentional. The more confusing, the harder it will be for potential enemies to navigate it."

A whole maze of winding tunnels that a cat could easily get lost in... The ground in front of Tallpaw seemed to yawn like a hungry mouth, waiting to clamp down on him.

“Remember what I told you,” Sandstone continued, if he could sense Tallpaw’s apprehension he didn’t make any sign of it. “Woollycloud will go ahead, then me, and you’ll stick right behind me. Mistmouse will follow behind you at a tail length.”

“And Crowfur and I will go ahead and branch to the right to test out the other path.” Plumclaw added

“And I trust my old apprentice will have no trouble with that.” Sandstone nodded with pride.

Plumclaw led Crowfur into the tunnel with confidence. Tallpaw couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy for the molly, so sure in her paw steps. She had been trained by his father and he always looked at her with approval. Stars, stop being a jealous kit and focus on what’s important right now, mouse-brain! Tallpaw chided himself.

When Woollycloud squeezed into the tunnel, Sandstone nodded to Tallpaw signaling for him to go next. He tried very hard not to visibly seize up as he put his paws at the tunnel entrance and squeezed down it.

The air became startlingly cooler against his face, and a damp chill quickly began working its way under his pelt. It was somehow even darker than Tallpaw had feared. Light quickly vanished behind them and there was nowhere else for the sun to peek through, or wind, or anything. The walls brushed against his sides, tugging uncomfortably at his fur. He was painfully aware of the weight of the earth increasing above his head as the tunnel sloped downward. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, he repeated over and over.

“See Woollycloud?” he heard Sandstone say “The tunnel walls are still plenty sturdy.”

Woollycloud hummed in response “Perhaps. Mistmouse, the passage up here is too narrow for me, do you think you could squeeze on ahead?”

Tallpaw couldn’t see either of them, but he heard Woollycloud’s loud pawsteps get fainter. His tail twitched nervously and he accidentally whipped Mistmouse on the muzzle, who sneezed as his short hairs tickled her nose.

“Sorry.” Tallpaw croaked.

“It’s alright,” Mistmouse mewed. “I was nervous my first time too, it’s normal.”

Tallpaw felt more embarrassed than comforted, but he hoped she was right and that the thudding in his chest would stop soon. He had to awkwardly press himself to the side, but the lithe molly easily wiggled under him. He was afraid if he pushed the wall too hard, it might buckle.

“Come on, keep up!” He heard Sandstone’s eager mew suddenly farther ahead. Tallpaw hadn’t even noticed that he’d kept walking. “Let's check out this passageway. I think I remember it looping back around to the main path.”

“I can’t see you, where is your voice coming from?” Tallpaw’s mew was hoarse and shaky. Sandstone’s voice had a strange echo to it, trapped and bouncing off the walls, vibrating strangely against his sensitive ear fur. Even the noises down here sounded wrong and cramped.

“Remember to use your whiskers and your nose!” came Sandstone’s voice. Tallpaw couldn’t think clearly enough to use any sense. He had the distinct feeling any sudden or out of place movement would cause something to break, so he moved stiffly and carefully, crouched over and keeping his head ducked, careful not to touch any wall as if he could pretend that he wasn’t really trapped on all sides so long as he didn’t feel it. His chest was starting to ache as the pounding of his heart bordered on painful. It felt like he had to strain for every breath. He stumbled ahead blindly until he bumped into the stout form of Woollycloud.

“Don’t focus on what you can’t see,” the tunneler said. “You’ll soon be able to understand how to detect sound sources in the tunnels, in fact, you’ll be able to detect them even farther than above ground.”

“It feels hard to breathe.” Tallpaw gasped. “Is there air down here?”

“Yes, we can breathe.” Woollycloud said, a gentle purr rumbling in his chest to soothe the jittery apprentice. “Take deep, slow breaths. The air tastes different, but you won’t suffocate, I promise.”

Tallpaw nodded before remembering Woollycloud wouldn’t see it. Mistmouse had come back to join them, reporting that the tunnel did open up more but the soil of the main path was feeling a bit loose, and she didn’t feel comfortable digging to make it wider. Woollycloud grumbled something to himself

“I-is it safe?” Tallpaw whispered. He was still struggling to breathe normally.

“We’ll have to use the side path, the earth is made of sturdier material.” Woollycloud said. “Your father and I would never let anything bad happen to you. You're safe as long as you're with us. Just keep padding forward, I’ll be right behind you.”

Tallpaw felt the smallest bit better as he adjusted to the dark. The air still felt thick and musty, but his lungs were working. Perhaps it was just in his head. Earthy walls brushed against his whiskers when the path widened and narrowed. He decided to close his eyes so he wouldn’t think about not being able to see, but then he was so focused on the walls that he almost ran into Sandstone.

“Here is where we’ll start digging.” Sandstone said. “This was an unfinished extra passage from moons ago, and it should loop around to the main path. Come put your paws here.” Tallpaw pawed in the dark until his father’s larger paw pressed his against the earth. “Start from higher up and work your way down to create a large enough path.”

Tallpaw obediently started to claw cautiously at the earth. Woollycloud had hung back and Tallpaw heard him sniffing at the walls as Mistmouse squeezed around to join them, her nimble paws already burrowing at the earth in small fast strokes. Tallpaw winced as his claw snagged a rock. The damp earth oozed and clumped uncomfortably under his toes. Every time he felt soil crumble, he winced, wondering if it would take the roof down with it.

“Are you sure it’s stable enough to do this?” he squeaked.

His heart sank as he heard Sandstone let out a short irritated sigh. “Tallpaw, this is my life's work. You don’t know what you’re doing yet. Don’t think, just listen to me and let me guide your claws. I’ll place your paws where they need to be”

“Ok...” Tallpaw mewed quietly.

“It can take half a day to make progress,” Sandstone said. “Slow and steady work. Of course, it’s faster the more paws we have.”

There was a hint in his voice that said ‘paws like yours would make it faster,’ and Tallpaw grimaced. It felt like it had been days already and Tallpaw never quite got over the feeling that the air was too thick to breathe. His shoulders were already sore and he longed to stretch out, but between the body of his father and Mistmouse, he couldn’t. He was stuck in the cramped, stuffy dark, trying very hard not to think about how heavy the world above him was. Just keep digging and stop thinking about it! This was his father's pride. It was important, it wasn’t supposed to be fun. What kind of warrior cared more about what they wanted than what was needed? After a while of shoving his negative thoughts down, he almost started to feel a rhythm for it as his father showed him how to press the earth to the side so it didn’t get in their way. He could space out enough and just focus on the pattern rather than the nervousness fluttering in his belly like a trapped bird. Woollycloud was close behind them focusing on smoothing and pressing down the soil in their wake. Tallpaw couldn’t help but catch a sense of apprehension in him.

“Rabbits used to use these tunnels,” the big tom said to himself. “But all the scent around here is stale. It’s strange, since there should be a warren so close.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Sandstone replied. “They’ll come around again, and this will be an advantageous hunting spot as well.”

“Sandstone,” Woollycloud had a hint of worry in his voice, and Tallpaw froze automatically. “The soil here doesn’t smell like clay anymore. I don’t think we should dig further just yet. Maybe we should change direction.”

“We’re close, Woollycloud, it will be fine.” Sandstone panted. He seemed so eager, so sure, but Tallpaw heard Woollycloud’s tail flicking. Mistmouse had slowed down too.

Tallpaw was caught up in his father's stride and didn’t quite notice when Mistmouse said, “Hold on, do you smell that? It smells like water. The soil is much wetter here. Have we reached the marshy ground already?”

Tallpaw finally froze in place when his claws squelched loudly as they contacted mud. Something shifted above his head.

“Oh StarClan,” he heard Woollycloud whisper, and in a moment Tallpaw could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

“Don’t start panicking,” Sandstone hissed to him, “Let’s just step back and--”

The earth under Tallpaw’s paw buckled inward, sucking his pads into the ground. The solid seeming roof above his head bowed downward ever so slightly, more ooze than solid. He couldn’t see it, but he felt it. He could have sworn he heard a creak in the earth, a sound that sent a jolt down Tallpaw’s spine. Were there rocks above his head waiting to come loose? Nightmares from his kithood swirled in his vision, the earth cracking, an unnatural rattle of death surrounding him on all sides, promising to sink him into the rotting, choking earth, crushing the air from his lungs and the bones in his body. It all flashed through in an instant, he couldn’t move, he forgot how to breathe, he was frozen, staring at where he could picture the roof of the tunnel bowing down another hair's breadth.

“Tallpaw, we need to--”

There was a warning in his father's voice, Woollycloud said something but Tallpaw’s heart had started hammering so loud it echoed in his ears. A tiny clod of dirt fell from the roof and bounced off his muzzle. That was all it took for every bit of tension in his body to break all at once. The panic he’d held back and stuffed down burst forward like a violent flood, and Tallpaw wheeled around with a screech. Whatever was in front of him was knocked to the side, and just behind him the earth growled and the roof started to sink in. Tallpaw heard a screech of fear and pain and he wasn’t sure if it was coming from him or not, he was only able to run, and run he did.

He couldn’t see and he couldn’t focus on his senses. He tried to remember the way they had come in, but they had twisted and turned so much there was no way to keep it straight and his mind was too shot through with panic to bother trying.

“Wait Tallpaw!” That might have been Woollycloud, or it might have been his father, he couldn’t tell in the echo of the tunnel. “We must stay together! Keep to the right!” they yowled.

Tallpaw screeched as he smashed headlong into a hard wall. Pain flashed through his muzzle, but he barely registered it for more than a second before he was running again. faster faster faster his mind chanted in increasing dread I’m going to be trapped, i’m going to be lost, i’ll be crushed, help, help, please someone help! Where's the light? Where where where-- His own thoughts hardly felt like words anymore as they dissolved into frightened babbling and yowling for a way out of this nightmare. He thought he’d reached a dead end and wheeled around with a ragged wail of fear and helplessness, starting again in another direction, but he was turned around now and he didn’t know if he was running back the way he’d come. He smashed into something he thought was a wall, but it yowled back at him and yanked him another direction with a rough bite to his scruff.

“That way, you mouse-brain! Keep your head on and go straight!”

Tallpaw was in no position to fight against it and let himself be herded onward by whoever was just at his pawsteps, shoving him left and right, and grabbing his tail hard when he tried to turn the wrong way, until, to the greatest relief Tallpaw had ever felt in his life, light started to enter his vision. It grew until Tallpaw dove out of the hole they had come in through, tumbled over his paws and landed with a thump on his belly, gasping for breath. Plumclaw was standing over him glowering, her ruffled gray fur bristling. “What in StarClan’s name was all that!? Where did you think you were going?”

Tallpaw couldn’t answer. He was panting and shaking too hard. Suddenly all of them were surrounding him, saying things at him, it all just sounded like noise. Tallpaw’s body was telling him to run, and it was a struggle not to give into it. The thing that finally broke through the noise was his father.

“Tallpaw!” Sandstone yowled, and Tallpaw jumped as he realized he’d been yowling for a while now.

“W-What?” Tallpaw wheezed.

“What have I told you over and over? You don’t ever ever panic like that when you're underground! You nearly got Mistmouse seriously hurt and you ignored every order! You’re lucky Plumclaw found you before you ended up completely lost, I told you to stay with me no matter what!”

“M-Mistmouse?” Tallpaw stuttered in a daze. His gaze blearily settled on the small dusty gray tabby. There was a gash just behind her front leg and Plumclaw was beside her trying to lick the dirt from the cut.

“You piled into her and knocked her into the wall when you ran! Don’t you know how dangerous that is? Why didn’t you trust me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t know what happened--” his sentence choked off with a ragged gasping cough. His lungs were still not cooperating.

“Give him a moment,” he heard Woollycloud’s voice. “He’s had a fright”

“I’m alright,” Mistmouse offered, though there was a quiver in her voice as well. “It’s not so bad…”

“Don’t make light of the situation, Mistmouse!” Sandstone growled.

“I didn’t mean to,” Tallpaw tried, “I thought I was going to be crushed like--”

He almost said “like Leafshine”, but he caught himself.

“Of course you wouldn’t have been!” Sandstone snapped. “The collapse was only a couple tail lengths long. We could have stepped back and been alright, but we had to help Mistmouse up to get her out and then find you.”

“The important thing,” Woollycloud said, “Is that all of us are here and safe.”

Sandstone took a breath trying to rein in his anger, and gave Tallpaw a withering look. “Tallpaw, but what happened to you in there? Why didn’t you listen when I told you to stop?”

Tallpaw didn’t know what to say. Shame started to replace the panic squeezing at his chest, threatening to crush him the same way the earth had tried to.

“I’m sorry” he whispered again, feeling his voice had abandoned him along with the rest of his strength. “I don’t know what came over me I was just--I was just so scared.” A flicker of frustration began to burn under the shame and lingering fear. The frustration must have come through if only for a moment as some small, very small, part of Tallpaw was crying out that it wasn’t fair for Sandstone to have expected this. “You were saying so much and I didn’t know how to keep it all straight! I can’t remember everything you say when I only had the morning!” He was surprised to hear it in his voice, as weak as it was. He’d never sounded even a little cross with his father before.

Sandstone glared at him for a long moment. Then he shook his head and fell silent. Tallpaw’s frustration was snuffed out as every long second that passed by sent that crushing shame clawing further up his throat. He expected his father to match his frustration with a bellowing anger, but instead after several agonizing heartbeats, what he finally said was “No...I blame myself.”

Tallpaw was confused by the sudden change of tone and immediately regretted his little outburst after seeing the hurt on his father’s face. Sandstone had flipped from anger to dejection in a heartbeat.

“W-what? No, it wasn’t your fault,” Tallpaw stuttered. He was the one that panicked, why would it be Sandstone’s fault?

“I delayed this too long.” Sandstone gritted his teeth. “I expected my kit to be such a natural, you should be more than ready by now, but I didn’t push hard enough against Heatherstar. I let you go on, thinking that you would get sick of moor running on your own and neglected the precious training time you had when you were younger. It’s my fault for not trying harder to prepare you.”

Tallpaw wished desperately Sandstone had just yelled at him, the bleakness in his father's eyes hurt more than anything.

“No, no, it won’t--!” Tallpaw started, but his voice caught in his throat as the sentence choked before it came out. He almost said ‘it won’t happen next time, next time i’m sure i’ll do better.’ But he didn’t know how to continue. Next time? What next time? How could he bear going down there again?

Woollycloud stepped forward. “We should go back to camp and let Mistmouse get looked at. We’ll also need to have a meeting between us. I don’t know if these tunnels are going to be able to do what we want them to do.” His voice sounded hard in a way Tallpaw wasn’t accustomed to hearing from the gentle tom. Tallpaw was afraid to look up at him.

Mistmouse walked with a bit of a limp that sent another wave of guilt crashing over the still shaky apprentice. His panic hadn’t just hurt him, but his clanmates as well. He wondered if Ryewhisker and her siblings would be angry with him for putting their mother in danger.

As they walked, Woollycloud leaned down and whispered to Tallpaw, who was trailing behind the group, “It’s alright. This was...a lot to ask of you for your first tunneling experience.”

I should have been able to do this though... He looked after Sandstone miserably. He couldn’t bear to see his father look at him with such disappointment. Tallpaw just wanted him to be happy. But he never would be, not if this is all he wanted his son to do.

chapter list / previous / next

#cw emotional manipulation #cw claustrophobia #FRU17 #chapter 17

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twilights-800-cats · 4 years

Text

<< Allegiances || Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || From the Beginning >>

Chapter 1

Feathertail was running. Reeds lashed against her pelt as she scrambled, looking for the exit. She could hear the cries of her Clanmates over the rumbling roar of Twoleg monsters. They’d come so suddenly, while she’d been out hunting – why, oh why couldn’t she find the end of this horrible reed bed? Her Clan needed help!

She was running out of breath, her limbs aching. The scent of blood and the acrid stench of Twolegs filled her senses until her head spun. Soon enough she couldn’t see straight – she tripped over her own paws and tumbled over and over, crashing through the reeds.

“Feathertail, you left us!” screeched a voice.

I had to! Feathertail wanted to cry; but she was still tumbling, still lashed by the reeds.

“We’re dying!”

“We need you!”

I’m sorry! I’m sorry!

Feathertail struck something hard, and saw stars behind her eyes. She struggled to her paws, head ringing, and opened her eyes… only to find herself shrouded in the fleeting darkness of sunrise.

It was just a dream, she thought, her heart pounding in her ears.

She blinked, adjusting her eyes to the growing light. She was in a nest of hastily-gathered ferns and moss, surrounded by her traveling companions: Shadepaw and Nightpaw of ThunderClan, Crowpaw of WindClan, and Stoneheart of ShadowClan lay in their nests around her, breathing softly in their sleep. Feathertail breathed a sigh.

Their StarClan-led journey from Clan territories had taken them over hills and Thunderpaths, through Twolegplaces and across unfamiliar territory to here, the lake. Feathertail could see it through a gap in the willows and reeds that surrounded them – a large, smooth expanse of water surrounded by wild lands. Feathertail couldn’t forget how it shone with stars the night before, capturing the night sky in its surface.

This place is supposed to be our new home. Feathertail wasn’t sure what she thought about that. This part of the lake lands felt RiverClan – the stream that split to make the little island they were temporarily camped on made this place similar to the RiverClan camp back in the forest – but how could she ever convince her Clan that it was where they were meant to be?

Feathertail shifted on her paws. I have to, she thought. She had been one of the cats chosen by StarClan, sent dreams to go on this journey and save her Clanmates. The Twolegs were coming, and there would be no stopping them. Midnight, the strange, stargazing badger that had met them here, had promised so.

The nest beside Feathertail was empty, and she frowned. She had made that nest for Stormfur, her littermate; but he hadn’t slept in it. His wasn’t the only empty nest – Mistyfoot, ThunderClan’s chosen cat, wasn’t in her’s, either. Feathertail suppressed a sharp pang of annoyance. This journey had made every cat who had taken it closer than the warrior code allowed – but surely Stormfur and Mistyfoot knew better than to become mates at a time like this?

I can’t blame him for being happy, Feathertail thought, but I don’t want to see his heart broken…

Feathertail got to her paws. The others would be waking soon – they had to set off for home as soon as possible. As quietly as she could, Feathertail padded through the reeds that surrounded the little island – shivering as she recalled her dream – and stepped out into the open.

The land around the lake was vast – thick swaths of trees to one side and open, rolling hills to another. A small Twoleg barn stood at the outskirts, its lights just beginning to wink on as the sun rose. A gentle wind rocked the trees, stirring the lake’s surface.

As Feathertail looked out over the lake, she couldn’t help but feel… good. This place could be home. It had to be.

“Little feather,” rumbled a voice, “come to see the sun rise?”

Feathertail’s ears twitched. It was so strange to hear a badger speak cat – but the old she-badger, stars lodged in her fur, could do that and more. StarClan had trusted her to be their messenger, strange as it still seemed – badgers and cats were natural enemies. Then again, the whole world seemed to be turning upside down. Feathertail padded over to Midnight, sitting beside her as the sun rose in a red disk of light.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Feathertail asked, worried. Badgers were nocturnal creatures by nature – only desperately hungry ones lumbered around during the daylight. But perhaps Midnight wasn’t a normal badger in that way, either.

Midnight shook her striped head. “Worry not,” she rasped. “Fine I’ll be, day or night.”

Feathertail shivered. There was just something strange about her – she didn’t even smell like a badger ought to, her scent cool and frosty instead of musky and strong like it should be. She seemed to be well-traveled, too, and her knowledge of spiritual matters was far beyond Feathertail’s. I wonder what Shadepaw thinks of her… is Midnight something only a medicine cat can understand?

“Did StarClan tell you that the forest was going to be destroyed?” Feathertail wondered.

“StarClan asked me to deliver message,” Midnight replied. “I had known long before that.”

Cold trickled down Feathertail’s spine. “How?”

Midnight shifted her position, scratching her long claws into the earth. “I feel shift in my fur,” she explained. “Hear rumble of monsters on the wind. The balance, changing. I understood it.”

Feathertail swallowed, confused. How could wind in her fur and hearing monsters mean that Twolegs were destroying the forest? Definitely a medicine cat thing, she thought glumly, giving up. Only they could understand stuff like that. All Feathertail had to do was believe Midnight, believe StarClan, and that would be enough, she hoped.

“Come,” Midnight grunted. “Your companions, they wake.”

Feathertail nodded, getting to her paws. She padded beside Midnight as they headed back to their makeshift camp, pushing through the thick barrier of reeds and into the willow grove, bounding over the little stream that isolated it even more from the land around it.

The grove in the sunlight looked even more like a Clan camp than it had in the dark – Feathertail could see bushes that would make for good dens, a place for meetings in that old willow log that Midnight had talked to them from, a clearing big enough for a whole Clan and a small, secluded place where a medicine cat might like to live. With the whole island ringed in the thick reed beds, it was safe. Feathertail’s heart trembled as she imagined RiverClan cats crossing to and fro, sharing tongues or heading out on patrol. Leopardstar would love this place.

Inside, in the nests they had made in the clearing, Crowpaw was nudging Nightpaw.

“C’mon already,” the thin WindClan tom was groaning. “I’m starving.”

Nightpaw, much smaller and stockier, flicked his tail in protest. “Y’know I can’t go hunting until Shadepaw says so…” His ice-blue eyes, piercing and identical to his father, Tinystar’s, narrowed on his littermate.

Shadepaw was giving her chest fur a few quick licks. She was taller than her brother, taking more after their mother, Sandstorm, in her sleek physique. The young medicine cat apprentice turned to her brother and examined his leg, nodding in satisfaction when she was done.

“You’re healed through!” she declared.

Nightpaw’s whiskers twitched. “Finally!” He got to his paws and stretched every short leg in turn. Feathertail glanced at his leg, her tail flicking in satisfaction. Nightpaw had been injured by a fox encounter a quarter moon ago – their journey had made the healing process longer than it would’ve been in the forest.

“C’mon, then!” Crowpaw declared. “I saw some hills – that means rabbit.”

“Rabbit yourself!” Nightpaw huffed, shaking moss from his pelt. “I don’t want to go halfway around the lake just for a rabbit!”

Crowpaw rolled his eyes. “Mouse-brain!”

“Rabbit-breath!” Nightpaw shot back, his whiskers twitching with amusement.

“Both of you, hush,” Shadepaw sighed, rolling her eyes. “You’ll wake Stoneheart.”

Feathertail purred. Crowpaw had been the last cat to open up on their journey, and in some ways, he was still just as grumpy and mean as before; but his friendship with Nightpaw was a rivalry that benefitted both toms. Shadepaw especially had softened the worst of Crowpaw’s edges.

“Too late for that,” Stoneheart grumbled from his nest. One pale blue eye was opened to glower at the apprentices. “I’m up.”

Shadepaw padded over to the gray ShadowClan warrior, sniffing at his shoulder wound delicately. An encounter with rats in the nearby Twolegplace had left Stoneheart with a bad bite that just refused to heal properly. Even warriors knew that rat bites could be the most stubborn of wounds.

“I need more burdock,” Shadepaw lamented.

“Hm!” Midnight huffed. The she-badger lumbered off, towards the secluded spot that Feathertail thought would make a good medicine den. The badger disappeared into the ferns and reeds for a moment, only to come out with thick roots stabbed onto her claws.

“Burdock!” Shadepaw rejoiced, her amber eyes shining. “Thank you, Midnight!”

Midnight lumbered forward awkwardly, holding out her paw for Shadepaw. “Gathered in the night, I did. Restless.” the badger explained. Shadepaw tugged off the roots, and Midnight sniffed at her claws, wrinkling her nose at the sharp smell. “Plenty grow here.”

Shadepaw eagerly began chewing up a new poultice for Stoneheart’s wound, mashing up the plant and its juices between her teeth and smearing it on with her paws. Stoneheart shuddered as the juices sank in, his whiskers trembling.

“Feels good,” he decided.

“It’s nearly healed,” Shadepaw told him, wiping burdock from her whiskers with a paw. “Thank StarClan…”

“Stoneheart, do you know where Mistyfoot is?” Feathertail asked. A glance around the camp showed that neither Mistyfoot nor Stormfur had returned yet. Worry pricked Feathertail’s pelt – had something found them? Them being hurt is just what we need…

Stoneheart shook his head. “Don’t know,” he admitted. “She’s probably with Stormfur, though. I wouldn’t be too worried.”

Feathertail felt another prickle of annoyance. Didn’t Stoneheart care that his own sister was possibly breaking the warrior code? Is he not worried because he moved to ShadowClan so long ago? Feathertail understood how Stoneheart hadn’t felt welcomed in ThunderClan, but she couldn’t imagine leaving her littermate behind.

“They’ll be back soon,” Stoneheart assured. He got up and stretched, curling his tail over his back. “They’re probably hunting.”

“I hope so,” Crowpaw grunted. “I’m starving.”

“So you keep saying,” Shadepaw sighed. “Now go and do something about it!”

Crowpaw flicked his tail over Shadepaw’s muzzle and loped off, his long legs making great strides across the clearing. Nightpaw scrambled to his paws, his smaller, lower body bounding after Crowpaw with his tail in the air.

“Wait for me!” Nightpaw called.

“Hurry up, ThunderClan!” Crowpaw crowed over his shoulder, disappearing into the reeds. Nightpaw charged after him.

Shadepaw shook her head and sighed. “Toms…”

“I know,” Stoneheart agreed.

Feathertail purred. The group had grown so close since their journey had begun; they were like their own little Clan. She just hoped that those bonds survived when they made it back to their Clans. With the Twolegs attacking, so much is going to change…

The reeds rustled. Feathertail blinked, curious – it was far too soon for Crowpaw and Nightpaw to be returning. It was Mistyfoot and Stormfur who padded in through the reeds, their jaws laden with prey. Feathertail’s heart skipped at the musky smell of the fish in Stormfur’s jaws, and the water vole Mistyfoot carried was fatter than any she recalled seeing in the forest.

“Where were you?” Feathertail asked. She padded up to Stormfur and took one of the fish from his jaws. The flavor seeped into her mouth and she felt like she was back in RiverClan, even though she was so far away.

Over the smell of the fish, however, Feathertail scented something else. They were together, she thought worriedly. Mistyfoot’s scent is on his pelt… and his is on hers… A pang of frustration struck her. Weren’t they even going to try and hide this?

Stormfur dropped the rest of his catch beside Shadepaw, who thanked him before tucking in. The big gray tom flicked his tail at Feathertail. “We went to see the lake last night; and the fishing was good in the morning,” he explained. “Sorry.”

Feathertail glanced at Mistyfoot, only to find that the blue-gray she-cat was avoiding her gaze. Mistyfoot quickly dropped her vole beside Stoneheart, who thanked her with a touch of his nose. With the ThunderClan she-cat’s back firmly turned, Feathertail turned to her brother, bumping him away from the others with her shoulder.

“What are you thinking?” she demanded, hissing into his ear. “I know you’ve liked her since you were an apprentice, but isn’t this going too far?”

Stormfur bristled, just a little. “It’s not a big deal!” he insisted through his teeth. “We’re just taking things slow right now.”

Feathertail willed him to understand. “Our parents nearly caused a war over their relationship, Stormfur – over us. Did you forget about that? Did you forget about the way that RiverClan looks at us?” Graystripe and Silverstream had crossed boundaries and the warrior code to be together. They were lucky that they had only lost a kit in the process… but both of them lived in ThunderClan now. Stormfur was all Feathertail had in RiverClan, and she didn’t want to lose him to exile.

“Things are different now,” Stormfur told her. “All this, the Twolegs and the Clans… things are changing. You know as well as I do that the warrior code could use some updating, and it’s not like we’re the only ones who think so! Tinystar changed the warrior code seasons ago, more is sure to come.”

Feathertail frowned. “I know,” she mewed, “but I’m worried. Just because change is coming doesn’t mean that it’ll come easy. Tinystar’s change to the warrior code almost caused fights, too! What’ll you do when you get back to the Clans? Bring Mistyfoot to RiverClan? She wouldn’t be happy there!”

“I could always go to ThunderClan,” Stormfur pointed out.

Feathertail froze, a cold feeling seeping into her from her heart. Her eyes flashed first to Mistyfoot, then back to Stormfur. He… he would leave me all alone?

“Hey, don’t give me that look, Feathertail!” Stormfur’s eyes widened, as if he suddenly realized what he had just said. “Nothing is set in stone.”

He butted his head against Feathertail’s shoulder, like he had done since they were kits. It did help to take the edge off of his words, and Feathertail let herself relax. “There’s a lot more to worry about here than me and Mistyfoot,” he reminded her. “Like I said; we’re taking things slowly. It’s not like we’ve decided to become mates.”

“Please… just be careful,” Feathertail urged. She felt helpless. She knew that look in Stormfur’s eye – in the end she wouldn’t be able to stop him from doing what his heart wanted. Perhaps that willfulness was just something that was in their blood. But to leave me all alone in RiverClan…?

I don’t know if I can take that.

Her brother’s eyes flashed sympathetically. “You know, you’ll have to learn to get on without me sometime, Feather,” he murmured, brushing his muzzle against her ear.

Feathertail felt an uncomfortable prickle. “You’re my brother,” she said back. “You’re all I have in RiverClan. I don’t want to lose you… and I don’t want to see you to suffer in heartbreak.”

Stormfur hesitated. “Feathertail… I told you we would see this through together, didn’t I? That’s what we’re going to do.” His whiskers twitched. “When we bring the Clans to the lake I’m sure things will be different.”

I hope so.

A voice came over the reeds: “Look what we caught!” Nightpaw called. “It’s as big as me!”

Stormfur’s ears pricked, and he lifted his head. “Wow!” he purred. “Good catch, you two!”

Feathertail felt a bitter feeling rise in her throat as Stormfur pushed past her. Nightpaw and Crowpaw were dragging in a rabbit. It was big, just as Nightpaw had promised, though it was somewhat exaggerated. Feathertail didn’t care about that at all.

Her gaze followed Stormfur as a yawning feeling opened up inside of her. She felt suddenly like a kit that had been left out in the cold, watching her family pad away. Graystripe and Silverstream had left RiverClan for ThunderClan, and if Stormfur found his heart leading there, too…

I’ll be all alone. The thought made Feathertail’s stomach sink and killed any appetite she might have had. All alone, in RiverClan.

Staring at her friends, Feathertail couldn’t think of a worse fate.

#warrior cats #tb au #tb moonrise

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twilights-800-cats · 5 years

Text

<< Allegiances | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | From the Beginning >>

Chapter 10

“Keep an eye out,” Mousefur grunted.

Tinystar nodded in agreement, his tail still. Behind him, Mousefur and Graystripe stiffened, their movements poised to leap upon whatever lay beyond the drying fern bed.

The patrol was near Sunningrocks – ThunderClan had barely managed to win after their last altercation with RiverClan over the territory. With Leopardstar and Bluestar in presumed alliance, no Sunningrocks patrol in the past days knew whether or not there would be a fighting force there.

As they pushed through the undergrowth, Tinystar heard Graystripe let out a sigh of relief. The Sunningrocks were empty, with no traces of RiverClan scent on them. The river flowed slowly beyond, the reeds on RiverClan’s side crisp and brittle.

“Go renew the markers,” Tinystar meowed, looking back at Mousefur and Graystripe. “But keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

Mousefur lashed her short tail, nodding. Graystripe frowned, but followed the dusky brown she-cat around the rocks. Tinystar headed for the water, brushing his pelt against the rocks as he went. These belong to ThunderClan, he thought. I’ll keep it that way.

He crouched near the river, bending to lap at the water. It was cold and clean, tasting only mildly of fish. A ripple of water touched his muzzle, and Tinystar shook the ice cold droplets from his whiskers with a sigh. How could RiverClan get so wet all the time? After all his experiences in the river, Tinystar never wanted to get wet again.

Another splash set Tinystar’s spine straight. He peered across the river, frowning, looking for the source – he didn’t need to wait long. The waving of brittle reeds barely hid the dappled pelt near the water. A white paw flashed out into the water and, after another noisy splash, hooked a silvery fish from the river.

“Wonderful catch,” called Tinystar.

Tawnypelt poked her head from behind the screen of reeds. “Thanks,” she called back.

Tinystar watched her tuck her catch away, bending reeds over the sleek bodies of the fish to hide them from predators. Tawnypelt shook out her pelt before she padded along the slope of the shore. Tinystar followed her, noting the quickness of her step.

Tawnypelt slid into the water, her paws churning swiftly as she made her way across the river to where the RiverClan and ThunderClan borders touched, just beyond Sunningrocks. An odd piece of territory, Tinystar thought as he settled himself on the ThunderClan side. What was the point of it?

Still, it let Tawnypelt get close without having to shout across the river. The dappled she-cat waved her tail in greeting, and Tinystar dipped his head. Normally such a meeting would be frowned upon, but Tinystar trusted Tawnypelt.

“How are things?” Tawnypelt wondered, her whiskers still dripping. It didn’t seem to bother her. “You’re leader now! How are you liking it?”

“Things are going well,” Tinystar replied politely. “And leadership is… something to get used to, to be sure. But I think I’ve finally gotten used to giving orders to cats a head taller than me.”

Tawnypelt mrrowed with amusement, her whiskers twitching. “That’s good.”

“How is RiverClan?” Tinystar wondered. He leaned closer. “You know… how are they doing, knowing the truth about you and Brambleclaw?”

Tawnypelt’s eyes flashed. “Well…” she frowned. “It’s about how we expected, honestly. Brambleclaw told everyone the truth as soon as we returned. Some cats look at us sideways, but… they don’t say anything outright awful to us. I think they know deep down that we’re RiverClan, and always have been – Tigerstar being our father or not.”

“That’s good,” Tinystar sighed. “Leopardstar must be furious.”

“She was!” Tawnypelt’s ears twitched. “But she didn’t demote Brambleclaw, and she hasn’t done anything yet. She always keeps one eye on us, though. I miss when we used to be more friendly… it used to be so easy to talk to her, but… after this I think we might never be friends again.”

Tinystar’s heart clenched with sympathy. He knew what it felt to have friendship be dictated by one’s origins. “Give her time,” he offered. “Maybe she’ll come around?”

Tawnypelt shrugged. “I don’t know. Anyway… Silverstream’s been great – I’m glad we’re still friends. She’s helped a lot… and Featherpaw and Stormpaw look up to us even more now that the truth is out. I think they like not being the odd ones out anymore.”

“That’s great!” Tinystar purred. “I’m glad you can support one another.”

“The whole half-Clan thing isn’t really the main problem, though,” Tawnypelt went on, squaring her shoulders. She inched closer to the border, her eyes flashing over the river to look for onlookers. Tinystar frowned. “It’s Bluestar!”

“Bluestar?!” Tinystar bristled involuntarily.

Tawnypelt nodded, her green eyes burning. “Bluestar used to visit once in a while, before – but now it’s like she’s living with us! She stayed for three whole nights!”

Tinystar’s spine rippled with unease. “That’s not right!” he hissed back. “She’s got a Clan to look after – what’s her aim?”

Tawnypelt shook her head hopelessly. “I have no idea – but get this! When she left, she left a few ShadowClan warriors in our camp! To stay! And Leopardstar approved of this!”

Tinystar’s eyes widened. “What?!”

“She said it was to bring our Clans closer together,” Tawnypelt explained, “but there’s more to it than that, I know it! It’s uncomfortable, having those ShadowClan warriors lazing about our camp, eating our fresh-kill and doing nothing but watch!” She shuddered. “I had to get away! I couldn’t take it anymore.”

A pit of dread opened in Tinystar’s stomach.

His expression must have said more than words could, because Tawnypelt nodded at him. “I know,” she meowed. “It’s just wrong. And beyond that, Brambleclaw and Leopardstar haven’t stopped arguing since they arrived. They can’t agree on anything! They try to hide it and keep things quiet, but the Clan is starting to take notice.”

“Did Brambleclaw say anything about Bluestar and the dogs?” Tinystar wondered.

Tawnypelt’s eyes filled with worry. “That’s what I wonder,” she admitted. “I don’t know! If he did, and Leopardstar didn’t believe him, then… Bluestar’s influence is stronger than we can fight! The Clan will always follow Leopardstar, but Bluestar is…”

“I’m so sorry, Tawnypelt,” Tinystar breathed. He couldn’t imagine how distressed she was, watching her Clan pull away from her. How much of Leopardstar’s disbelief rested in Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt’s heritage? Too much, likely.

“Tawnypelt!”

Tinystar jerked to attention. Graystripe and Mousefur had appeared – Tinystar cursed himself. He’d been too absorbed in talking to Tawnypelt, he’d forgotten about his Clanmates returning. When Graystripe spotted Tawnypelt he rushed for the border, leaving Mousefur to plop down onto her haunches and roll her eyes, grumbling under her breath.

“Hello, Graystripe,” Tawnypelt meowed, managing to pull herself together.

Graystripe was a pawstep from the border, his tail high and eyes shining. Tinystar nudged him, pushing the gray warrior back a whisker so that he didn’t outright cross. ThunderClan was just beginning to trust him again – he didn’t need to come back to camp smelling of RiverClan.

“How is Silverstream? The kits?” Graystripe couldn’t keep the begging from his tone. The gray-pelted warrior had always been transparent as Twoleg windows.

“They’re doing fine,” Tawnypelt meowed. She gave Tinystar a brief, guarded glance. Tinystar understood – she was keeping some details back, to keep Graystripe from being stressed. They didn’t need to add a border incident to Tawnypelt’s problems. “Featherpaw is a natural swimmer, and Stormpaw is almost as big as Brambleclaw now! Silverstream is proud of them, and she misses you.”

Graystripe’s eyes shone. “That’s great – er, the stuff about the kits, not about Silverstream missing me,” he stammered. He shook it off. “Will she be coming to the next Gathering?”

Tawnypelt frowned. “I don’t know.”

Graystripe faltered, for a moment – but he shrugged it off. “That’s okay,” he meowed. “I miss her a lot, but I understand. Tell her…”

He struggled for words. Tawnypelt offered, “I’ll tell her I saw you,” she meowed. “And that you miss her.”

Graystripe swallowed. “That… That’ll do,” he rasped.

Tawnypelt nodded. “I need to be going,” she said tightly.

Tinystar met her gaze – sharp, like Tigerstar’s. Then she left, slipping into the water like a fish. Tinystar watched her go, worry pricking his pelt like a bramble bush.

“Subtle, Graystripe,” Mousefur chided.

Graystripe started. “S-Sorry,” he huffed.

Tinystar turned around, watching Mousefur warily. The short-tempered warrior was like to claw Graystripe for that display.

“What’s it matter?” she grumbled, her eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s only the warrior code!”

Graystripe flinched, but Tinystar stepped forward. “Leave it, Mousefur,” he told her. “We need to head back.”

Mousefur said nothing as she got to her paws, but she turned her back on Graystripe. Tinystar pressed against his friend, sighing – admittedly, though, as they got their paws back on their familiar trails, Graystripe’s loyalty to ThunderClan was not the worry on his mind.

ShadowClan warriors in RiverClan’s camp… Brambleclaw and Leopardstar fighting… Tinystar’s head spun with the new information. Bluestar obviously means to ally ShadowClan and RiverClan together.

What will her next move be?

———————————————————-

Tinystar paused at the entrance to the medicine den. His mind was abuzz with worry, but he could hear some commotion going on inside. As much as he wanted Brackenfur to help ease his mind, he didn’t want to interrupt.

There’s too much on my mind, Tinystar thought. The prophecy, Stonepaw… Bluestar…

Tinystar settled himself away from the entrance, sitting near Brackenfur’s den in the cracked rock. He tried to put it all out of his mind briefly as he watched.

Brackenfur and Mosspaw were with Snowpaw – the white tom had a thorn driven into his pad. Brackenfur was coaching Mosspaw while Snowpaw sat, looking confused. Being deaf, the white tom couldn’t hear much of anything, if anything at all – all he could do was wait.

“Be firm,” Brackenfur meowed. “Tug hard – you don’t want to splinter it.”

Mosspaw nodded, fixing a concentrated gaze upon the thorn.

“Give it a lick, first,” Brackenfur advised, “to make sure you get a good grip.”

Mosspaw obeyed, licking Snowpaw’s pad. Tinystar saw her clench her jaws, and the small she-cat jerked her head. A small spurt of blood followed the thorn as it left Snowpaw’s pad. Snowpaw himself flinched, whimpering.

“Good job,” Brackenfur meowed, waving his tail. “Now quickly, apply the horsetail. Though, next time maybe don’t pull so hard.”

“Sorry!” Mosspaw breathed, spitting out the thorn. “I’ll do better.” She rummaged in the leaf pile beside her paws and dabbed a bubble of strong-smelling goop onto Snowpaw’s pad. She signed to him with her tail, and Snowpaw perked up, purring unevenly.

Brackenfur nodded, looking proudly at his apprentice. His gaze shifted, spotting Tinystar across the den. Brackenfur got to his paws.

“Out, now, both of you,” he ordered. “Tinystar’s here to talk to me.”

“Of course, Brackenfur!” Mosspaw squeaked. She brushed against Snowpaw. “Come on!” she said, though her companion could not hear her. Snowpaw had no trouble following, however, and soon the two were gone.

Once they were alone, Brackenfur beckoned Tinystar closer. They sat together amongst Brackenfur’s herbs, the golden-brown tom’s paws shuffling through the leaves.

“I hope you don’t mind if I clean up a little,” Brackenfur meowed, “Mosspaw got a little eager trying to find the right herb for a thorn.”

“That’s all right,” Tinystar meowed.

The shuffle of leaves filled the air. Brackenfur asked, “So what is it? You’re not here to evaluate Mosspaw, I’m sure.”

Tinystar took a deep breath. “I’m ready, Brackenfur,” he admitted.

Brackenfur paused, and then pushed the leaves away. He settled himself firmly beside Tinystar, meeting his eyes. Tinystar grounded himself in his friend’s gaze, desiring nothing but his support as he launched into an explanation of the dream that had haunted him since their trip to the Moonstone.

When he was done, Brackenfur’s supportive expression changed to contemplation. He looked down at his paws, his tail-tip twitching as he thought.

“Do you… have any idea what it might mean?” Tinystar wondered. The weight of his worries seemed lighter – but it made him just as anxious to know what Brackenfur was thinking.

“I don’t know,” Brackenfur breathed. “But… it doesn’t mean anything good.”

“I figured that out myself.”

Brackenfur’s tail swished, his eyes filled with worry. “The only ‘Lion’ I know of is in the elder’s stories of LionClan – but no cat knows how true those are.” He frowned. “I doubt it has anything to do with Tigerstar, either. Fire and Tiger and Lion… oh Tinystar, this is…”

“I know,” Tinystar breathed. “It’s downright apocalyptic… and I think it may have something to do with Bluestar. I have a hunch…”

Brackenfur’s ear twitched. “Oh?”

“It sickens me to think of it,” Tinystar admitted. The thought in his mind had bloomed after his talk with Tawnypelt. “But… ‘four will become two’ - there are four Clans, Brackenfur. And… I have reason to believe that ShadowClan and RiverClan may be getting closer than is natural to the warrior code.”

Brackenfur’s eyes widened. “Oh StarClan… Tinystar, I truly hope you’re not right. If that’s true – the entire balance of the forest could be destroyed!”

Tinystar swallowed.

Oh StarClan… help us…

———————————————————-

“Nothing to report?”

“I thought no news was good news,” Whitestorm admitted, settling himself down beside Tinystar.

Tinystar swallowed. “Sorry,” he meowed. “I’ve just… got a bad feeling, Whitestorm.”

“That much is obvious,” Whitestorm chuckled. “You’ve had patrols circling the ShadowClan and RiverClan borders for two days, practically telling us to put our noses into their territories despite there being a river and a Thunderpath between either! What are you expecting?”

Tinystar shook his head. “Nothing good,” he admitted. He hadn’t yet told his deputy about his vision, or his conversation with Brackenfur. After all, what could he actually do to stop ShadowClan and RiverClan forming an alliance? Brambleclaw hadn’t managed to convince Leopardstar, after all…

“So, who will be going to the Gathering?”

Tinystar started.

Whitestorm’s whiskers twitched. “You’ve forgotten?” he guessed. “You really are wound up, Tinystar!”

Tinystar swallowed. A Gathering, so soon? It would be his first as ThunderClan’s leader. He hadn’t even been thinking about it, and he scrambled to decide who ought to go, and what he was even going to say. He tried his best not to let his thoughts get too tangled in his mind.

“Not Mistypaw, Stonepaw, or Mosspaw,” he said, finally.

Whitestorm frowned. “That’s likely wise – who knows whether or not Bluestar will try to take them.”

“We’re keeping them,” Tinystar said firmly. “But I’m not going to let them get caught up in a fight if one happens.”

Whitestorm raised his brow. “It might not be at a Gathering… but we likely will have to fight to keep them in ThunderClan. Are you willing to do that?”

“Of course!” Tinystar bristled. “They were born here – this is where they belong! Bluestar is the one that left them, Whitestorm.”

“Okay, okay,” Whitestorm sighed. “Calm down, Tinystar.”

“Besides…” Tinystar meowed. Some idea had just crept over him. Of course Brambleclaw couldn’t convince Leopardstar – what proof could he offer on his own? But if the entirety of ThunderClan backed up what he had said… Perhaps I can stop it, after all! “I have a plan.”

“Oh?”

Tinystar turned to his deputy. “I’m going to tell the Clans about Bluestar.”

Whitestorm’s ears pricked. “A bold move,” he admitted. “But who will believe us?”

“Someone has to,” Tinystar meowed. “The proof is with all of us! The Clans no doubt wonder why Bluestar left ThunderClan – why not tell them? They need to know how dangerous she is, before she can sink her claws any deeper into the forest.”

“There’s no guarantee it will work,” Whitestorm meowed, concerned.

Tinystar squared his shoulders. “The longer it waits, the more dangerous she becomes. It needs to be said – now, before she can get away with all she’s done.”

He dug his claws into the earth. He didn’t notice the quiver in Whitestorm’s eye – he didn’t see what Whitestorm saw in him at that moment: vengeance, frustration… anger. Ice-blue eyes sharpened to claws of hatred.

By the time I am through… not even ShadowClan will trust Bluestar anymore!

#tb au #tb the darkest hour

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