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Chapter 21

“Shadepool? Shadepool, are you awake?”

Shadepool had been asleep, in fact, and dreaming of sharing tongues with Crowflight in a grassy meadow, their pelts warmed by greenleaf sunshine. Compared to her dreams of late, this was paradisiacal - but Sun's voice and the prodding of her paw ended the warmth and comfort all too soon.

Opening her eyes, Shadepool found that Sun's muzzle was so close to hers that her vision blurred uncomfortably, turning the she-cat into a mush of oranges and yellows and whites. Shadepool drew back, groaning.

Sun flattened her ears and pulled back as well, lowering her muzzle near to the ground and mewling, “Sorry!”

Shadepool yawned. “It's okay,” she mumbled around a dry tongue. “What's going on?”

“It's Sorreltail,” Sun said, lifting her nose. “We were due to go on a hunting patrol after we rested, but she was still sleeping when it was time to go. Longtail and I went without her, but when we returned, she was still in the warrior's den.”

Shadepool frowned, worry burrowing between her ears. “Is she awake now?” she asked.

Sun nodded. “I managed to get her up, yes.”

That's good, at least. However, Shadepool had to admit that just from Sun's description, she was stumped. Still, if something was wrong with Sorreltail, Shadepool knew she had to do something.

“Did you talk to Brackenfur?” she asked, getting to her paws.

“I wanted to, but Tinystar asked that he not be disturbed,” Sun responded. “Our trip to look for you was very taxing on him, I think.”

Shadepool grimaced with guilt. Of course, the trip was taxing - the way to the Moonpool was long, littered with cliffs and steep hills that were difficult for a regular cat to clamber over, let alone a cat with a permanent injury in the middle of leafbare. She envied WindClan, who had a much smoother journey on their side of the Divide - aside from having to splash in a river, that is.

“Let's go see her, then,” Shadepool mewed.

She followed Sun out into the clearing. The sun was sliding into evening, the sky darkening into an orangish-purple. The air was touched with a hopeful warmth, though, and Shadepool could feel newleaf coming in her heart if the geese hadn't given it away that morning - finally, there was to be an end to this long, cruel leafbare! Whatever else was happening, that was worth celebrating.

The camp seemed to be in a bustle, with most cats not out on patrol or training sharing tongues or shoring up dens - Spiderpaw and Larchpaw were practicing fighting moves just outside the apprentice's den, and it seemed to Shadepool like they were working on Larchpaw's deaf side. Ashfur and Mousefur were watching carefully, sharing a meal between themselves, occasionally pausing to give some input here or there.

Shadepool's stomach growled. She hadn't eaten in a long while, just a quick, hasty bite of chaffinch when she'd returned to camp with Brackenfur. That had been more feathers than meat, though, and it didn't make up for spending a whole day asleep at the Moonpool.

Later, she thought. Sorreltail was more important.

They quickly approached the shadow of the warrior's den, and Shadepool ducked beneath the scraggly branches. There were no buds yet, but when newleaf came, the warrior's den would look twice its size, Shadepool guessed.

Sorreltail was lying in her nest, eyes open but looking bedraggled. At the sight of Sun and Shadepool, she perked up a little, lifting her muzzle to the edge of her nest and heaving out a heavy-sounding “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Shadepool returned. She crouched in the shadows beside her, measuring her breathing and heartbeat with a paw. “Sun tells me you're not feeling well?”

"I'm fine, I'm sure,” Sorreltail insisted. “Just a lot of patrols lately. Training, too. Swiftfoot and Mistyfoot are-” she yawned, baring her teeth- “intense sometimes...”

“I can imagine,” Shadepool agreed. “Lay on your side for me, would you?”

Sorreltail obeyed. Shadepool found no issue with Sorreltail's breathing or heartbeat, and as she felt with her paws, she found no sprains or injuries that might be sapping her energy. Shadepool checked her ears and nose for fever and found them to be cool and wet, as they ought to be.

She pressed on with her paws, moving from Sorreltail's limbs to her abdomen. Soon enough, she had her answer - a faint swelling in her lower body that made Sorreltail gasp a little when Shadepool pressed gently.

“What is that?” Sun asked, eyes darting between Sorreltail and Shadepool. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Shadepool assured her. Warmth filled her chest. “Sorreltail is just pregnant, that's all.”

Sorreltail's head shot up immediately, her eyes wide. “What?! Pregnant?”

Shadepool nodded, her whiskers twitching in amusement. “Yes, definitely! With more than one, too, if I'm feeling you properly.”

Sorreltail looked as if Shadepool had suddenly sprouted wings. Sun was just as flabbergasted, blinking owlishly in the dark. Shadepool glanced between them, slightly concerned - this was her first time delivering the news. Had she done it wrong?

“Are you two okay?” Shadepool ventured carefully. “I'd offer you thyme, but we haven't any. It might be bad for Sorreltail, besides.”

“I-I'm fine,” Sorreltail insisted, glancing at Sun. “I just. I didn't think it would happen so soon.”

“Me, either,” Sun breathed, finally.

Shadepool peered at Sun. There was something on her face that was difficult to understand. Sorreltail seemed to know what it was, though, as she stretched her neck out to lap at Sun's paw comfortingly.

“Sorreltail's exhaustion is a bit more than usual at her stage,” Shadepool remarked, feeling a bit like an intruder in their private moment. “I don't think there's anything wrong, but I'm going to make sure she doesn't get involved in patrols for a few days and get Mistyfoot to take her out of the training rotation.”

“Do I have to move to the nursery?” Sorreltail wondered.

“Not yet,” Shadepool assured. “And, once you've rested, you can still go hunting - but just take it easy for now. No chasing squirrels up trees or anything like that!” Shadepool frisked her tail and said, “I'll leave you two alone and inform Tinystar - is that alright?”

“Yes,” Sun answered. Beside her, Sorreltail nodded.

Shadepool dipped her head to them both and left the warrior's den. Out in the clearing, she could breathe a little easier, and she guessed that they needed some time to themselves - this was big news, not just for them but the Clan, too.

Almost immediately, Mistyfoot approached her, eyes sharp. Nightfrost was a pace behind, a mouse in his jaws as if they were about to share it.

“What's going on?” Mistyfoot asked, her gaze flickering to the warrior's den. “Is Sorreltail hurt?”

Shadepool shook her head. “Not hurt, just expecting kits,” she explained, trying to keep her voice low. “She needs to be kept out of training sessions until the kits are weaned.”

Mistyfoot's eyes rounded, and Nightfrost, who had overheard, pricked his ears. “Of course,” Mistyfoot meowed quickly, “I'll take her out of the rotation immediately.”

“Kits!” Nightfrost breathed, dropping his meal to speak. He glanced at Mistyfoot, his eyes bright. “We finally get to use that nursery we spent two whole days on! Dustpelt is going to be so happy!”

Shadepool flicked her tail. “Keep it quiet as you can, for now,” she hissed. “I don't know if they want the whole Clan to-”

“Did someone say kits?” Spiderpaw piped up.

Shadepool's ears burned. She hadn't noticed the apprentices were tumbling so close!

Larchpaw, who was beneath her, asked, “Whose kits?” He glanced at Mistyfoot. “Yours?”

“No!” Mistyfoot insisted.

Subtlety crumbled instantly from there - Spiderpaw's mewl had caught Ashfur and Mousefur's attention, and as they began gossiping, Silverstream, of course, overheard. Graystripe knew, then, and with his boisterous voice, it was all over camp in a flash, spreading like a forest fire.

By the time Sun had crawled out of the warrior's den, she was surrounded by her new Clanmates, each one giving their congratulations. When Sun looked at Shadepool, she could only mouth a plaintive “Sorry!” to her friend - there was no way she'd be heard over the noise.

After a moment, though, it seemed like Sun was okay with the attention. She took everyone's words with a calmness that began to bubble into an excitement only an expectant parent could feel.

“Kits, hm?” Tinystar's voice was soft behind Shadepool, who started at the sound of her father. She hadn't even heard him come near, nor had she expected him to be pleased to see her.

“Y-Yes,” Shadepool said awkwardly. “Sun and Sorreltail's.”

“Good,” Tinystar sighed. His eyes sparked wistfully. “That's... That's good.”

Shadepool peered at her father. He seemed just as thin and exhausted as he'd been since he'd heard about Onewhisker's death. It seemed that the news about Barkface had hit hard, but not enough to spiral him much further. Perhaps the poppy seeds were helping?

“Father, I'm sorry,” Shadepool blurted. No one else was listening to her, anyway - they were all too focused on Sun. “I didn't mean to leave and worry you again, and-”

Tinystar waved his tail. “Brackenfur explained it,” he said simply. “Medicine cat business is medicine cat business - even when that medicine cat is my dear daughter.”

His expression was warm with pride, and that made Shadepool breathe a sigh of relief. It didn't seem like Brackenfur had told him about the Omen or the missing spirits of his friends. She still had no idea whether or not that was a good thing to keep from him, but she did agree that they needed more information before they revealed anything.

“Now, what about you two, hm?” Tinystar mewed on, looking at Mistyfoot and Nightfrost. “Will Sorreltail have company soon?”

Shadepool felt a wave of sympathy at how utterly uncomfortable they both looked, mouths agape as they groped for a response, doing everything they possibly could to avoid looking at one another.

Tinystar seemed amused, his whiskers twitching. “No rush,” he insisted. “Don't mind me - I'll just give Sorreltail my congratulations...”

He stepped away, walking through the crowd of cats toward the warrior's den. Before entering, though, he touched noses with Sun, saying something that made her flatten her ears and wind her tail bashfully around her paws. Tinystar disappeared into the shadows of the den a moment later.

“I, uh,” Mistyfoot struggled, eyes darting around until she found Mousefur. “Mousefur!” she mewled, “Hunting! Please!”

Mousefur looked at Mistyfoot like she was insane, but the expression on the gray she-cat's face seemed to be enough to convince her to go - though Mousefur was sure to heave a tired sigh as she agreed.

Shadepool watched the two trek off to the thorn tunnel, feeling a spark of something coming from between the thorns in her mind - discomfort, worry, sorrow, all from Nightfrost. It was the first emotion she felt from him in what seemed like an age, and it nearly knocked her off her paws.

“Night?” she asked, concerned. Her brother didn't budge - would he even talk to her about this? She had to try: “What's wrong? Are you and Mistyfoot okay?”

Nightfrost grimaced. “It's nothing,” he insisted, his voice tight. “Just. We're not-”

A yowl interrupted him, and suddenly Mousefur burst back into camp, bristling from ears to tail. Every cat in camp froze as fear-scent rolled into the hollow like a sour wave, followed by the harsh tang of blood as Mistyfoot and Sootfur pushed through the thorn tunnel, propping Dustpelt up between them as he bled heavily from a wound in his throat. Snowstep followed last, his white pelt streaked with red.

Their Clanmates quickly surrounded them, each cat clamoring to know what had happened, with Mousefur fighting to give the injured space. Shadepool had to battle her way through the crowd, even stepping on Brightheart's tail, to reach them.

Shadepool's mouth went dry. Snowstep's ear was torn almost to a stump, the blood from the wound streaking his face. Dustpelt's breathing was ragged, the wound at his throat deep but thankfully not fatal. Sootfur had the least injuries, but it looked like he'd torn a claw and had some new scars on his muzzle to speak of.

Beside Shadepool, Nightfrost hissed, “What in StarClan's name..?”

“What happened?!” Tinystar had thrust himself out of the warrior's den, his ice-blue eyes burning like tiny fires. All his latent exhaustion seemed to have fled him. The crowd parted around him as he padded toward the entrance.

At the sight of his injured warriors, his tail stiffened. Sharply, he demanded, “Who did this?”

It was Dustpelt who croaked, “WindClan.”

———————————————————

Sootfur and Snowstep were stable, but Dustpelt had to be kept in the medicine cat's den, with the wound in his throat at high risk of infection. So it went for the next three sunrises - while the claws of bitter leafbare unclenched around the world, there was always at least one patrol to the Divide who came back with some sort of injury.

Mousefur's patrol got caught while hunting, leaving her with a furless flank and Rainwhisker with fewer whiskers. Spiderpaw came out without injury, thankfully, but she claimed to have struck a harsh blow to one of WindClan's apprentices, nearly knocking them into the river.

Brightheart dislocated a shoulder after throwing Emberstep off herself, leaving her sore and unable to patrol. Whitewing's belly had been clawed badly, and she was confined with Dustpelt until she healed. Even Graystripe's thick fur couldn't save him from when Thorndusk nearly tore his tail off.

Soon enough, it became easier to count what warriors hadn't encountered a WindClan patrol than those who had. Shadepool and Brackenfur were up to their ears in patients, and though newleaf was finally here, the snow was still stubbornly clinging to the forest floor, and the plants they needed hadn't yet grown - nor did they have the time to go out and search the territory for any early buds with new injuries each day.

“What do they even want?” hissed Cinderpelt as Shadepool treated her for a torn ear just after her patrol returned around sunhigh. “They haven't tried to move the boundary, and it's so much effort to cross the tree-bridge and attack us! Don't they have anything better to do now that newleaf is coming?”

“They want us to suffer,” Dustpelt croaked. His throat was packed with what few herbs and cobwebs they had, and his eyes were glazed with pain. “Like they did.”

“Hush,” Brackenfur told him sternly. “You'll only hurt yourself more if you strain...”

“We need to retaliate,” Dustpelt wheezed through his teeth. “We must stop them before they think they can overrun us!”

“Dustpelt!” Brackenfur snapped. Teeth bared, he growled, “Be. Quiet. If you wake Whitewing, you'll wish you were in StarClan!”

Dustpelt curled his lip at the younger cat but lowered his head. He grumbled something into his nest about 'WindClan fox-hearts' and kept his eyes stubbornly fixated on his mate, his tail flicking to and fro. Brackenfur sighed, leaving him there to stick his head into the herb store.

“I'm sorry about him,” Cinderpelt murmured, hissing as Shadepool dabbed a poultice of sweet-sedge onto her ear. “But, he is right. That sort of tactic does make a lot of sense, coming from WindClan. From Mudstar.”

Shadepool's pelt rippled uncomfortably. “I'm a medicine cat,” she reminded Cinderpelt, trying to keep her tone from being too short. “Not a warrior.”

Cinderpelt opened her jaws, then shut them, choosing to keep whatever she was about to say next to herself. Shadepool hadn't wanted to be so glib with a senior warrior, but she was exhausted to the ends of her whiskers with how many patients she'd seen the last three sunrises - it was even beginning to test Brackenfur's temper.

“Shadepool, go and fetch more cobwebs from behind the elder's den,” Brackenfur ordered, pulling his head out from the cleft in the wall. “We've all but run out, and Whitewing's dressings need changing. I'll finish with Cinderpelt, here.”

“Of course.”

Exhausted to her bones, Shadepool shuffled out of the medicine cat's cave and into the sunshine. The clearing felt open and free compared to the claustrophobic cave, so she aimed to enjoy it before she had to head back inside.

Maybe I can go looking for herbs again, she thought as she headed toward the elder's den. It wasn't being used for the moment, and though there were no nests made, it still looked incredibly cozy and quiet. Or, maybe I can take a nap...

Brackenfur was right that there was a good supply of cobwebs between the bushes and cliffside, and Shadepool was able to bind her paw in the sticky substance while still leaving plenty to spare for later. She thanked the spiders for their help and began her awkward jaunt back to the cave.

She could feel the gazes of her Clanmates on her as she walked. With so many injuries, many cats had to be confined to camp so they could heal properly - thus, the clearing felt full of eyes with not much else to do but ponder their sudden situation with one another.

Shadepool tried to avoid the gossip, but one voice carried to her ears:

“How can Crowflight be okay with this?” Nightfrost whispered, his eyes round with disbelief.

He crouched just on the other side of the fallen tree with Mistyfoot, both of them hidden behind the upturned roots. It seemed like they had chosen this spot specifically to keep prying eyes and ears away, but Shadepool knew their voices too well to ignore them. She paused to listen, concern tumbling in her belly.

Mistyfoot's gaze was dark. “He's changed, whether we like it or not.”

Frustration boiled in Shadepool's pelt, multiplied by her exhaustion. She hobbled around the tree roots and thrust her muzzle into their faces, hissing between bared teeth, “Crowflight would never be okay with this! How dare you think that about him, after everything we've gone through together!”

“Shade...” Nightfrost cautioned. His eyes darted from side to side as if he were worried about onlookers.

Mistyfoot curled her lip. “Face it, Shadepool - something like this isn't a decision Mudstar would make alone. If Crowflight opposed it, he wouldn't be deputy in the first place!”

Shadepool bristled and dug her claws into the dirt to keep them from lashing out at Mistyfoot. There was absolutely no way that she would believe Crowflight was involved - not when his warriors had already proven they would do things behind his back before.

But there's no way he wouldn't know about attacks like this... Her stomach curdled. And I can't tell them how I know for certain, not unless I want Mistyfoot to know about Crowflight and I.

“Face it, Shadepool,” Mistyfoot breathed. “Crowflight has changed.”

Shadepool glared at Mistyfoot, unable to believe the words she was hearing - but slowly, she realized that Mistyfoot didn't look pleased about it, either. In fact, she looked just as hurt and betrayed as Shadepool was frustrated and defensive.

She doesn't want to think it of him, but without evidence stating otherwise, what else can she think?

She looked to Nightfrost, hoping to see some sort of support from her brother - but he was not meeting her gaze, and he looked as if he'd been clawed by Sharptooth's ghost.

Shadepool lashed her tail. “You might have stopped believing in him,” she muttered bitterly, “but I haven't.”

Nightfrost made a noise in his throat, sounding hurt. Mistyfoot narrowed her eyes and reasoned, “That's not fair, Shadepool. We have to face facts.”

You don't know the facts! There's so much more going on!

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey come beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting!”

Shadepool glanced over her shoulder, shocked at the powerful sound of her father's voice echoing off the stone walls. Tinystar was a dark spot atop the Highledge, staring down at the clearing with eyes like ice.

From every corner of the camp, ThunderClan gathered, some limping, some with pain in their eyes, others looking tired from covering patrols for their injured denmates. It took only moments for them all to gather beneath their leader. Brackenfur poked his head out from behind the lichen that shrouded the medicine cat's cave, unable to leave Dustpelt and Whitewing for long.

Shadepool hobbled over with Nightfrost and Mistyfoot, but she kept her distance from the both of them, still feeling like her pelt was covered in thorns. As she looked up at her father, she felt she could easily predict what he was about to say, and a lump formed in her throat.

He's going to fight WindClan.

Tinystar's gaze swept over his Clan. Shadepool could only imagine how he felt right now, knowing that so many of his cats bore scratches and bites that were still healing. When it seemed like everyone was present, he began to speak:

“These past days have been hard,” he began. “I cannot speak for what is going on in Mudstar's head, but clearly, he is attempting to provoke us into responding.”

“Then I say we respond!” snapped Swiftfoot. His stump of a tail lashed. “Enough is enough!”

“Yeah,” agreed Ashfur. “Too many cats are getting hurt. We have to retaliate!”

Agreement rippled through the Clan. Shadepool grimaced at the waves of aggression clouding the air. She sat and curled her tail tight around her free paw, searching for something to soothe the tempers of her Clanmates.

Tinystar beat her to it: “I agree that this cannot go unpunished - but we cannot be seen as the aggressor, no matter what. That will only justify WindClan's position.”

“But it puts us at risk!” Brightheart called back. “If we can't find a way to fight back, we're just going to get more and more worn down, and cats will start dying!”

Beside her, Sun nodded. She had a poultice above her eye from an injury the day before. “I, for one, want to see my kits when they're born, Tinystar!”

More meows of agreement. Shadepool was at least grateful that, though they were all angry, her Clanmates seemed to agree that this situation was less than ideal. She thanked StarClan that Dustpelt wasn't here to add his harsh voice to the crowd for once.

“I am going to take a patrol to the WindClan border to try and sort this out,” Tinystar declared. “One last appeal to Mudstar's decency - hopefully, he will see the truth.”

“Doubt it,” muttered Sootfur. “We're talking about a cat who started a civil war in his own Clan, lost, and probably killed Onewhisker, Barkface, and Ashfoot.” Beside him, Ashfur nodded along, his pale eyes burning.

“Reason has long since left him,” Swiftfoot agreed.

Shadepool shivered. Several other cats looked like they agreed with the same ideas. Even Longtail looked certain of it. How far had that nasty rumor of Skipnose's spread? Were there cats in every Clan that thought the same?

Tinystar lashed his tail. “We don't know any of that for certain,” he insisted, glaring down at his Clan. “And until we do, we cannot take it for truth. I will take Mistyfoot, Graystripe, Ashfur, and Shadepool with me to speak to Mudstar.”

“And if Mudstar doesn't relent?” Snowstep asked, his white pelt glowing boldly in the sunshine. His ear was wrapped tight in cobweb and sweet-sedge, and the red streaks in his pelt were struggling to wash out.

Tinystar grimaced. “Then we begin fighting back.”

Shadepool swallowed.

“Brightheart, you have the camp. We will be back before sundown - this meeting is adjourned.”

Tinystar clambered down the steps of the Highledge. The crowd dispersed, parting to let those chosen for the patrol come through. Silverstream touched her nose to Graystripe's ear, murmuring something to him with a worried gaze. Larchpaw tugged at Ashfur's tail, begging to come along, only to be rebuffed by his mentor. Both Mistyfoot and Nightfrost got up to meet the patrol, tails low.

“Here, I'll take that,” murmured Ferncloud.

Shadepool flinched - she hadn't even noticed the queen sidling so close. Shadepool's jaws opened in a confused response, but when Ferncloud's paw reached out to take the cobwebs, Shadepool felt like a mouse-brain.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“No problem,” Ferncloud said. She carefully untangled the cobwebs from Shadepool's paw, winding them around her own. “I'll help Brackenfur as best as I can while you're gone. I know a little about herbs from helping out some back in the old forest.”

“That would be great,” Shadepool breathed, grateful for the queen's help. “Thank you.”

Ferncloud's green eyes sparkled. “Good luck.”

Free of her cobwebs, Shadepool trotted over to Tinystar. It seemed like the entire patrol was gathered and ready, the warriors bearing determined faces. Shadepool hoped she looked as brave - it was a risk to bring her along if Mudstar decided he didn't want to talk peace.

“Let me come, Father,” Nightfrost insisted. “Please. If Crowflight is there, I need to talk to him.”

Tinystar frowned, his whiskers twitching. He glanced between his son and his daughter, and Shadepool guessed he was weighing the possibilities of bringing both of his kits to a potentially dangerous negotiation.

Finally, though, he sighed and meowed, “Come.”

———————————————————

As they hurried through the forest, following the twisting paths to the Divide, Shadepool could hear the forest beginning to melt. Water as cold as ice dripped slowly from every branch and bush, while the snow that had piled up from blizzard after blizzard had a sheen of moisture on its surface. The ground beneath their paws was soft, and the sun on their backs was warm.

She wanted to lose herself in the rich, loamy scents that filled the air - anything but this tension that kept the patrol quiet, the purpose that dogged their steps. Sure, Mudstar could see reason and relent - but Shadepool had her bets on the exact opposite happening, and every other cat seemed to believe the same.

The trees thinned, and the Divide loomed ahead, sooner rather than later. As the patrol neared the tree-bridge, though, something became quite clear:

WindClan was waiting for them.

On the ThunderClan side, at the foot of the tree-bridge, stood a patrol of WindClan cats - Crowflight was at their center, his dark blue eyes burning, but with him, spread out like a battle patrol, were Thorndusk, Emberstep, and Whitetail.

Shadepool's heart thudded in her ears. How long had they been there, waiting on the edge of ThunderClan territory? Were they waiting to ambush one of us?

Tinystar drew to a halt, and, at a signal from his tail, the patrol fanned out to enclose the WindClan cats. Shadepool stayed close to her father in the center, with Mistyfoot on his other side. Graystripe glowered at Thorndusk, while Ashfur glared at Emberstep with undisguised hostility, which the gray she-cat returned.

“What, so we have to respect that you closed your borders to us, but you don't have to respect our boundaries?” Ashfur growled. His ears were flat to his head. “Those rabbits must be going to your heads, WindClan!”

Emberstep hissed at him. Crowflight sent her a glare that made her crouch low, fuming.

“What is the meaning of this?” Tinystar asked, taking half a step forward. His spine was stiff. “Why are you on ThunderClan land?”

“Mudstar sent us to talk,” Crowflight responded. Shadepool thought he sounded strained. His body language was formal, but she detected worry in how the tips of his ears flicked.

“Funny,” Graystripe muttered, “we came to speak to Mudstar.”

“He will not hear you,” Whitetail stated matter-of-factly.

“Is that so?” Tinystar wondered, flicking an ear.

“Mudstar will not speak with codebreakers and murderers,” Thorndusk snapped.

“We're codebreakers too, now?” Graystripe wondered under his breath, sighing. “Yikes.”

Tinystar hissed between his teeth. Shadepool could sense her father's frustration, and she hoped it would not build - this patrol far outnumbered the WindClan cats, but if they were the ones to strike first, it would destroy what Tinystar was trying to accomplish.

Besides, Shadepool knew she wouldn't be able to bear seeing not just her littermate and friend hurt, but Crowflight as well. Her heart thudded in her ears.

“Speak, then, Crowflght,” Tinystar decided. “Tell me how Mudstar is choosing to justify stalking and harassing my warriors on their own land while calling us codebreakers in the same breath!”

Crowflight puffed out his thin chest. “Mudstar has decided that enough is enough,” he declared. “These attacks have been a warning - if you do not produce Onewhisker and Barkface's killer, or killers, before the half-moon turns, then WindClan will refuse to acknowledge ThunderClan's place here at the lake.”

Shadepool's heart nearly stopped. It felt like the breath had been sucked from her lungs.

She wasn't the only one: “The fox-dung is that supposed to mean?” demanded Ashfur.

“It means war,” Tinystar explained, his tone soft and shockingly calm. “It means that Mudstar will not stop until ThunderClan is driven from the lake entirely.”

“Yes,” Crowflight confirmed, his tone quiet and heavy. “That is what that means.”

“You can't be serious!” gasped Graystripe.

“StarClan above,” muttered Mistyfoot.

Shadepool felt the entire forest whirl around her. She could count on one paw the number of known times one Clan had driven another fully out of their territory, and one of those times, it had been WindClan themselves who had been forced to flee. How could they use such a terrible tactic now, when there were cats alive who knew what it would be like? When Mudstar knew what it would be like?

“Those are the terms,” Crowflight meowed on. “What say you, Tinystar?”

Tinystar opened his mouth to respond, eyes full of quiet fury, but it was Nightfrost that pushed past him - ignoring a worried hiss from Mistyfoot - and thrust his muzzle right into Crowflight's face.

“How can you stand there and say that you'll drive us out after all we did to bring the Clans here?” Nightfrost cried, the desperation in his voice breaking. “How can you forget what Stormfur died for?"

Shadepool glanced at Mistyfoot. She looked horrified to the ends of her fur, her gaze pleading with this cat she had come to care for as a dear friend. Shadepool looked back at Crowflight. The WindClan deputy was staring down at Nightfrost, and Shadepool could see the thoughts bouncing in his head, the conflict that was making his thin legs tremble. She couldn't bear to look but couldn't afford to look away, either.

“Tell me!” Nightfrost demanded, baring his teeth.

“Get away from him, ThunderClan!” Emberstep hissed, drawing close.

Nightfrost stood stubbornly still. He shrieked, his little body trembling with emotion that rattled the thorns in Shadepool's head, “Tell me, Crow!”

Crowflight stared down at him, helpless. “I...”

Emberstep leaped, fastening her jaws into Nightfrost's scruff. She yanked him away from Crowflight, roughly tossing him away. Nightfrost slid into Mistyfoot's paws, where he lay still and quiet.

Shadepool moved to his side immediately, trembling from ears to tail. He was just lying there, staring off into nothingness, not even his whiskers stirring. She pressed an ear to Nightfrost's side and thanked StarClan when she felt his belly swell with a small breath - he was only in shock.

“Oh, no, you don't-” hissed Graystripe. He lunged for Emberstep, but Thorndusk cut him off, thrusting the gray tom away with a blow from her forepaws. Graystripe staggered back and hissed, looking twice his size and vicious beyond himself.

When Emberstep attempted to come closer to Nightfrost, both Tinystar and Mistyfoot blocked her, the two forming a solid wall to protect the stunned tom and Shadepool, who crouched over him. Whitetail drew close to back up her Clanmate, which made Ashfur circle behind, his tail lashing as he looked for an opportunity to pounce. Off to the side, Graystripe and Thorndusk were rounding one another, hissing and spitting.

“Stop this!” Shadepool wailed. Her heart was hurting so much. She stared into Crowflight's eyes, emotion stinging in her eyes. “Please!”

Crowflight's gaze was unfocused, like a startled deer.

How can you just stand there? Shadepool thought, begging for Crowflight to meet her eye. How can you just watch Nightfrost be tossed aside like prey?

It was useless. She knew he was too overwhelmed to respond.

Please, she pleaded. Her heart was like thunder in her ears, threatening to crack in two. Don't do this. Don't let this happen.

Finally, his eye dared to meet hers. As if her expression was enough to stabilize his mind, Crowflight got to his paws and yowled, “That's enough! Stand down!”

His warriors obeyed - even Emberstep, who hissed at Tinystar one last time before she slunk away. They began to file across the tree-bridge, going one at a time, waiting on the other shore for Crowflight. Their eyes gleamed with hostility.

When his warriors were gone, Crowflight meowed, his voice soft, “The message has been delivered. You have until the half-moon to deliver those responsible, or WindClan's fury will haunt your every step.”

Tinystar curled his lip. “I see what kind of deputy you have chosen to be, Crowflight, and I am disappointed. I heard you loud and clear.” He raised his chin -though Crowflight towered over him, Tinystar seemed even taller. “Tell Mudstar that ThunderClan is innocent, and we will be ready for him if he ever decides to show his own face and deliver his own messages.”

Crowflight opened his jaws, looking at Mistyfoot. Shadepool wondered if he was going to apologize, but a glance at Mistyfoot showed it would not be well received - the blue-gray she-cat's face was thunder and lightning, a cold fury patterned across her countenance that chilled Shadepool to the bone.

Fear crossed Crowflight's eyes at the sight, and he looked to Shadepool to spare himself. His gaze was heavy, tired, and full of some fathomless sorrow. The death of his mother had broken something in his heart, and the weight of what he knew was breaking his mind, but this had broken something else, something that Shadepool knew he thought was just as strong, maybe stronger.

She knew he wanted her to forgive him, and maybe deep down she did - she knew what his circumstances were - but right now, his actions felt like claws piercing her heart, deep and painful. She loved him so terribly, so much, but this was the first time she found herself with a question she was too terrified to answer:

What if Crowflight had truly become her enemy?

#tb au #tb twilight

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twilights-800-cats · 2 days

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what if warriors had on-page illustrations?

excerpts taken from skyclan's destiny, squirrelflight's hope, crookedstar's promise, and moth flight's vision

#if i could ever publish the tb au or work on the warriors series #i would do this lol #tbh i want to include illustrations in all my stories

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twilights-800-cats · 7 days

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I love warrior cats so much bec they are silly little kitty cats. Despite everything, despite all the horrors, they fucking look like this -

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twilights-800-cats · 9 days

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<< Chapter 19 || Chapter 20 || Chapter 21 || From the Beginning || Patreon & Ko-Fi >>

Chapter 20

Shadepool fumbled in the darkness, uncertain of where she was - she guessed that this was someplace between dream and reality, like where she had floated just before entering StarClan's hunting grounds. She wished that Yellowfang's tongue had just sent her into the waking world instead, but perhaps her own troubled thoughts were miring her here.

As if in reflection of that, Shadepool saw shapes form in the darkness. It took her a moment to recognize what they were - the thick, winding branches of a bush, thick as sycamores, all tangled in on themselves to form an impassable wall that Shadepool couldn't even see through. Impossibly huge thorns bristled from the surface, keeping her from drawing too close to investigate.

Shadepool shivered. There was something so familiar about this structure. Was this the barrier she had erected between herself and Nightfrost? Or, more importantly, was this the barrier that Nightfrost was maintaining now?

Her claws flexed. She wanted to rip it all down but knew that she would tear herself to pieces trying.

Onewhisker is gone, and so is Barkface, now, too, she thought miserably, staring at the thorny wall. There's no way to learn the truth of what happened. StarClan doesn't have any answers, and they might not even be able to help. What are we supposed to do?

It's all been for nothing!

Not long ago, she would've been able to lean on her brother and share her misery with him to keep her head clear enough to think - now, though, it was all hers and hers alone. It was so heavy and suffocating, and Shadepool felt like she was drowning.

“You'd be shocked just how much of it all was you, Shade,” he'd said.

He's right, she thought, crouching low. She shut her eyes tight. I... I've never been able to handle anything without him.

I put too much on him; now he's gone, and I don't know what to do anymore.

She tried to will herself to wake up. Was this StarClan's doing, keeping her here? Perhaps it was the shadow-cats trying to steal her spirit as they had with Onewhisker and Barkface. Shadepool shivered, feeling cold.

Did StarClan know what darkness lay here beside the lake? If they had, why did they send the Clans here?

Shadepool opened her eyes and saw a pair of white paws. The white cat stood before her, their pelt so blindingly bright that it seemed to absorb the darkness, creating a strange glow around their body. It wasn't starlight, like StarClan spirits, but it reminded Shadepool of the Moonstone, back in the old forest.

“It's you,” she said, too upset to be as incredulous as the last time she had seen the creature. Shadepool lifted her muzzle, looking at the white cat in the starry pits they had for eyes, trying not to get lost in their depths. “What do you want?”

The white cat, as always, said nothing.

Shadepool frowned. “Whatever,” she sighed, exhausted. “Just stand there and stare. I still don't know what you're supposed to be, but whatever you are, I guess it's not helpful.”

“Wait for me!”

Shadepool's ears twitched. The high-pitched voice did not belong to the white cat, but it was familiar.

That sounds like...

A small hole opened in the thorn wall, just large enough for two kittens to stumble through before it closed up tight. The kitten in the lead, a she-kit with a tortoiseshell pelt, was far ahead of her littermate, a little black tom who was fumbling behind her on stumpy little legs.

Shadepool's eyes widened at the sight.

“Come on! Keep up!” the little tortoiseshell mewled.

The stumpy tom was trying his best. He protested, “I'm too short! It's not fair!”

Shadepool watched as the little she-kit stopped and turned, looking back at her littermate with shining eyes. She waited for the smaller tom to catch up, the two touching noses and purring as they walked off as one, pelts brushing.

That's... us.

Shadepool glanced back at the white cat, confused. They seemed unaffected by the kittens, who had faded into the darkness.

“I'm not sure I understand,” Shadepool admitted. “Nightfrost and I were always close, but now there's this between us.” She gestured at the thorn barrier with her tail. “What does this even have to do with what happened to Onewhisker and Barkface, anyway? What's going on?”

The white cat said nothing.

Shadepool hissed through her teeth. Not sure what I expected from you there. The vision likely had nothing to do with the white cat at all if this was Shadepool's own mind. Thinking about how things used to be with Nightfrost must have summoned a vision of a happier time, simple as that.

Winding her tail around her paws, she asked, “Is there anything you can do to help me? Anything at all?”

The white cat swished their tail and burst into hundreds of blinding white moths.

Shadepool jerked back, shocked at the suddenness of it all - the entire dream world was filled with the moths like stars in the night sky, illuminating the thorny cocoon of Shadepool's mind. It was as beautiful as it was haunting, and Shadepool struggled to comprehend it, jaws agape at the sight.

One of the moths fluttered towards her, landing on her nose and flapping its blinding white wings. Shadepool kept herself still, uncertain what to do - she tried not to blink, but the moth was too bright to look at, and she had to shut her eyes.

When she dared to open them, she was lying on her side by the Moonpool.

Her entire body ached, and she struggled to move as if the black sands beneath her wanted to swallow her whole. Her eyes worked just fine, however, and she found herself staring at the waters of the Moonpool, the surface lit blinding white by the light of the full moon.

She had slept for a whole day.

Shadepool immediately sat up, ignoring the protestations of her body. Her heart thudded in her ears like a thunderstorm - a whole day? Brackenfur would be furious! How could she ever justify it to him? Moreover, what was Tinystar thinking at this moment?

Great StarClan above; they're going to split my pelt between them!

A commotion at the top of the hollow made Shadepool turn her muzzle to the scraggly hawthorn. Her heartbeat accelerated, blood roaring in her ears - was this Onewhisker and Barkface's attacker? A wild animal? She had been a fool to come to the Moonpool alone!

But the muzzle that pushed through the dry brush was familiar and golden-brown colored, touched with white and gray: Brackenfur.

For a moment, Shadepool and her mentor stared at one another, one at the top of the hollow, his thin shoulders lit by moonlight, the other at the bottom, half-covered in black sand, eyes wild with sleep and fear.

Shadepool tried to guess what Brackenfur was thinking, but his expression gave nothing away. Her stomach curdled with disappointment in herself - Brackenfur was definitely going to yell at her for this, especially since he had come all this way to get her himself.

He didn't have to say anything. Shadepool got to her paws and climbed up the narrow path to meet him, ignoring the sleep dragging at her muscles. Her shoulders felt heavy and her belly sick, and resignedly, she decided that Brackenfur could be as angry at her as he liked: She deserved it. She had disobeyed him again, and again, it had been for nothing.

Brackenfur slid to the side to let Shadepool pass. She heard him sigh softly, his breath stirring the fur on her flank.

“There you are!” Sorreltail's voice surprised Shadepool. The tortoiseshell she-cat was sitting with Sun and Cloudtail, the three she-cats pacing a stony patch just outside the hawthorn. Sorreltail was staring at Shadepool, ears pricked.

Shadepool blinked. She supposed it would be foolish if Brackenfur had come here alone, and Cloudtail was the best tracker in ThunderClan. Sorreltail and Sun's presence, though, was far more comforting despite how wretched she felt.

“We were looking everywhere for you,” Sun fretted. She glanced at Cloudtail. “Thankfully, Cloudtail caught your scent before-”

“We should head back,” Cloudtail meowed sharply, cutting Sun off. She yawned, pausing to stretch, curling her white tail over her back. “Lots to do, and all that...”

Cloudtail began heading down the slope. Sorreltail and Sun glanced at one another, then at Shadepool, who could only hang her head in shame.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured. “I didn't mean to worry anyone.”

“It's okay,” Sorreltail told her, though Shadepool heard some hesitancy there. “It was medicine cat business.”

Sun nodded her head in agreement. “Tinystar was quite worried, though.”

Worried is a word for it, I'm sure, Shadepool thought. She looked over her shoulder at Brackenfur, wondering if he had anything to say now that they were out of the Moonpool's hollow.

He limped past her, heading after Cloudtail. Not yet, it seemed. Shadepool sighed and trotted after them. Sorreltail and Sun flanked her.

The walk back to camp was quiet and slow to account for Brackenfur's leg. Shadepool felt the silence ringing in her ears, rattling her mind. She wanted to at least talk to Sorreltail, but it seemed like the tortoiseshell she-cat was focusing intensely on the path in front of her - she looked tired, and Shadepool saw that she stumbled over more than one root twisting out of the earth.

Shadepool's pelt prickled. They were all tired because of her. She fought to keep her tail from dragging in the icy leaf litter. Nightfrost was right - she always dragged everyone else into her problems.

The moon was setting as they approached the thorn tunnel. At a signal from Brackenfur's tail, the warriors all filed in, leaving him and Shadepool alone outside the camp. Shadepool did not miss the sympathetic look that Sorreltail flashed her before she disappeared through the entrance.

“Come,” Brackenfur rasped.

Shadepool, confused, followed Brackenfur as he limped away from camp and down towards the lake. They took their time, walking in the quiet gray predawn, a warmish breeze rattling the leafless trees above as the stars of Silverpelt began to disappear.

ThunderClan territory did not have the prettiest shoreline with the lake - no grass giving way to soft, pale sand like in WindClan; rather, it was a sudden transition between a grassy slope and a line of wet pebbles, worn smooth by the lapping waves of the lake. A wooden half-bridge was stuck out close to ShadowClan territory, slick with frost and bare of any activity for seasons. It was pretty enough but not ideal for patrolling or hunting.

Brackenfur settled down at the edge of the pebbly shore with a sigh, taking a moment to bend down and lap at his twisted leg, which looked sore and swollen.

Shadepool sat beside him, wrapping her tail tightly around her paws. Guilt bit at her pelt like ants, and the anticipation of what was surely coming next made her fidget.

“You're lucky that Mothwing told me that you had left the Gathering early,” Brackenfur rumbled, lifting his muzzle from his leg. “When Tinystar saw that you hadn't returned with us, he almost jumped to accuse WindClan of taking you hostage. I was able to stop him from sending a battle party right into their camp - he was preparing for it when Cloudtail caught your scent trail in our territory.”

Shadepool's ears burned. Had she really almost caused a battle between ThunderClan and WindClan?

“I... I didn't tell Mothwing where I went,” Shadepool mumbled, shuffling her paws. “How did you know...?”

“I'm not daft!” Brackenfur scoffed. The fur along his neck lifted slightly. “Considering the timing, I assumed you went to the Moonpool to look for Barkface's spirit, despite me not wanting you to. Cloudtail finding your scent on the trail to the uplands confirmed it.” He took a deep breath and exhaled through his teeth in a stressed hiss. “What did you find?”

Shadepool dug her claws into the earth. The sound of lapping waves filled her mind, but they did not ease her. When she spoke, it was as if she were choking on a frozen mouse: “Barkface isn't there, either. He was taken, like Onewhisker.”

Brackenfur closed his eyes. He shuddered from ears to tail. “I had hoped...” he breathed, “but...”

He seemed at a loss. Shadepool did not blame him. She wished that she had better news. She wished that it hadn't been for nothing again.

“Did StarClan have any more information?” Brackenfur asked.

Shadepool shook her head. “Nothing helpful. Yellowfang says they're just as confused about it as we are.” Shadepool hunched her shoulders, shivering. “She thinks the shadow-cats I saw at the ambush site might be responsible for it.”

Brackenfur frowned at that.

“Also...” Shadepool hesitated to talk about it, but she supposed she might as well while Brackenfur wasn't yelling at her: “Spottedleaf was acting so strange - she kept ranting about some Omen she'd seen, and she wasn't herself at all. It's like she was obsessed with it. She wouldn't hear a word I said to her!”

“An Omen?” Brackenfur repeated.

Shadepool frowned at him. He didn't sound the least bit surprised, and his expression hadn't changed a whisker. That was very unlike him.

“You knew about that already,” she guessed.

Brackenfur nodded.

“And you didn't tell me?!” Shadepool hissed. The fur along her spine rose indignantly. “Why not?!”

Brackenfur sighed. The morning breeze stirred his pelt. “I did not tell you because StarClan knows as little about it as I do,” he answered frankly. He stared out over the water. “If it has consumed Spottedleaf, though, it is surely dangerous.”

Shadepool huffed. “So nobody knows anything about anything,” she concluded, frustration prickling in her pelt. The grinding of the stones beneath her paws reflected how she felt right now. “We're all just fumbling in the dark - even StarClan.” She sighed. “Aren't they supposed to know everything?”

Brackenfur twitched his whiskers. “I once thought so when I was younger,” he admitted. “But, perhaps there are things even StarClan cannot comprehend. It seems we have stumbled into some darkness beneath the lake, and we must figure it out together if we are all to survive. Perhaps that is why the Clans were brought here.”

But why is it our responsibility? Shadepool wondered. Why us?

He glanced at her as if he could read her thoughts, and he looked older than his seasons and tired enough that a moon's worth of sleep would not heal him. She understood then that he had been changed by his knowledge of the Omen - though not in the same way that Spottedleaf was. That weight had been crushing him for who knew how long.

Now, the burden was shared.

Shadepool touched her nose to his shoulder. “What do we do?” she asked.

“I do not know,” Brackenfur said. “We must trust that when StarClan finds an answer, they will tell us. For now, we can only guide our Clanmates through the fog of the unknown.”

Though he was just as clueless and uncertain as she was, Shadepool felt comforted by Brackenfur's presence, the idea that she didn't have to be alone with this. Perhaps he felt the same. She felt his chin rest on her forehead, his breath tickling her ear.

The closeness was bittersweet, however. If Brackenfur knew that she had love in her heart for Crowflight, this would all evaporate like mist in the sunshine. There was no way he would ever understand, no way that he would ever be able to trust her again.

“What will you tell Tinystar?” she asked, pulling her muzzle away. She couldn't even fathom how angry her father was with her.

“Medicine cat business is, in the end, medicine cat business,” Brackenfur rasped. His yellow eyes flashed in the orange light of dawn. “Even Tinystar must accept that that is all he needs to know.”

Shadepool's tail twisted with discomfort. “We're not going to tell him about Onewhisker and Barkface, or the Omen?”

“Not yet,” Brackenfur told her. “I'm not sure what good it will do right now. Tinystar is already fighting a war on two fronts - the last thing he needs right now is more to worry him. For now, this is a medicine cat problem.”

“Is that the best idea?” Shadepool ventured. She had told Crowflight about Onewhisker already, and she dreaded the idea of telling him that Barkface had suffered the same fate.

“I do not know,” Brackenfur said again. His muzzle pressed thin. “I imagine that all of this - the WindClan situation, the disappearing spirits, the Omen - is connected somehow. Until we have more information, though, we risk speculating wildly, and the more that know, the more likely panic will arise.”

Shadepool didn't like it, but she nodded in agreement. The last thing they needed right now was more cats becoming as deranged as Spottedleaf. Perhaps I ought to keep this close, then. Only for now.

She really didn't like the idea of keeping a secret from Crowflight, and she wasn't sure she could, really - but she also didn't want him to spiral from the knowledge and the hopelessness that it brought. He had reeled from learning about Onewhisker, after all. She wondered if Nightfrost might listen, but the tightness of the thorns came to mind, and she pushed it aside.

“We should return to the Clan,” Brackenfur meowed. “They will be missing us.”

Shadepool nodded in agreement. She got up and stretched, her paws scattering a few pebbles down into the lake's cold, gray water. Above her head honked a group of geese as they flew in formation, their bodies black against the rising sun.

Geese? she thought, glancing at Brackenfur, who seemed just as surprised to see them. Does that mean...?

“Newleaf,” Brackenfur sighed, his eyes sparkling. “Finally, some good news: newleaf is finally here!”

#tb au #tb twilight

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twilights-800-cats · 12 days

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Tried to recreate one of my old digital paintings in oils

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twilights-800-cats · 15 days

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tigerstars death (2023)

woodcut

94 × 66 cm / 37 × 26"

school project from last may:) based on drawing from 2017

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twilights-800-cats · 16 days

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Update: laptop is coming tomorrow, so I probably won't be able to update tomorrow due to setting it up!

So! My PC decided to die this morning!

We're hoping it's just the power supply, but that puts a wrench in some things for a minute. We're going to get a laptop asap, but it might take me a while to get it sorted, and I may not be able to post tomorrow.

If my entire PC has decided to blow out, that's a whole other problem! Yeehaw!

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twilights-800-cats · 17 days

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So! My PC decided to die this morning!

If my entire PC has decided to blow out, that's a whole other problem! Yeehaw!

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twilights-800-cats · 18 days

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Totality

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twilights-800-cats · 19 days

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man they really did just introduce the fox traps and do away with them all in the span of one book didn't they

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twilights-800-cats · 22 days

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Twilight is heading towards its conclusion for Patrons, so here's a reminder that it's only $1 a month to read ahead over on Patreon!

And, for those of you who are wondering, the TB AU will resume on Ao3 once it's done posting over on Patreon!

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twilights-800-cats · 22 days

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... are there any characters that I haven't drawn yet in Wind? I'm looking through the Wiki rn and I don't see any that jump out to me.

Maybe I ought to wait till Star lol

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twilights-800-cats · 23 days

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<< Chapter 18 || Chapter 19 || Chapter 20 || From the Beginning || Patreon & Ko-Fi >>

Chapter 19

Shadepool ran as fast as she could, splashing through the marshy shoreline of RiverClan and ShadowClan territory, leaping the stream that split ShadowClan from ThunderClan, and careening along the treeline of her own land, the wind howling in her ears. She might've taken the route through the moorland, which would've been faster, but the fight at the Gathering was already so much - WindClan didn't need any more provocation. She had enough sense to keep her scent off their land.

By the time she hit the Divide, her paws were on fire, and the sky was bright with the sunrise. There was absolutely no way she could stop, though - if she even so much as tried to catch her breath, she knew she would collapse. It felt like her paws had wings, and she flew upstream, fueled by desperation and determination.

Barkface was dead, and she had to find him.

As she left ThunderClan territory and entered the uplands, her strength began to flag, and she felt faint. Would StarClan even speak to her in daylight? It didn't matter - she would lay by the Moonpool until she reached someone, anyone, even if it took a moon's worth of nights.

Shadepool tore through the hawthorn and stumbled ungracefully down the ridge, her sweaty paws slipping against the ancient pawprints embedded in the stone. She finally stopped at the shore of the Moonpool - in the daylight, she finally noticed that the sand here was black, the complete opposite of the pale cream color by the lakeshore.

Her limbs trembled, unable to support her. Her head throbbed, and her mind blanked, bees buzzing high-pitched deep in her ear fur. Dizzy from the exertion, she found it impossible to catch her breath, and she fell onto her side, the black sands below her softening the blow. Her nose splashed into the Moonpool, and all went dark.

———————————————————

She was in a world devoid of scent and sound and sight, sinking as if she had fallen into the lake. She could breathe, but moving her limbs felt like too much work - even blinking hurt, though staring into the black void made her eyes ache and feel heavy.

Shadepool wondered where she was. She was aware enough to know that she was dreaming but not yet able to awaken. Was this what happened when one visited StarClan in the daylight? Or had they finally decided not to see her because she had broken a fundamental rule of the medicine cats?

Was she dead?

No, Shadepool thought. Not dead. Just tired. So very tired...

She closed her eyes.

———————————————————

When Shadepool opened her eyes, she guessed she was in StarClan.

It was not any place she had ever seen before - she was at the bottom of a massive hollow, as if some great creature had scooped out the earth with its paw long ago and never bothered to put it back. It reminded her of the ThunderClan camp, but the walls here were more naturally sloped and covered in greenery, rather than the tall, straight-cut stone she had come to call home.

Water lapped at her pelt. Shadepool craned her neck around and saw that she was lying at the shore of a massive pool of water which lay settled at the bottom of the scoop. Its surface reflected the cosmic swirl above, stars so close that Shadepool could taste them if she stuck out her tongue.

Her pelt prickled. I made it!

Shadepool got to her paws. She opened her jaws to taste the air but got little more than the usual soft, greenleaf scents of StarClan - there was no one in sight, either.

Tail twisting, Shadepool wondered where Barkface might be. StarClan's hunting grounds might as well be infinite, for all she knew, and there were no borders here - he could be anywhere, and she didn't have an eternity to try and find him.

What do I do? she wondered. Normally, by now, some StarClan spirit would have sought her out. It felt eerie to be here all alone.

Just as she was about to give up hope, the dense foliage at the top of the hollow rustled. Out from a massive clump of ferns stepped a delicate tortoiseshell she-cat, her amber eyes sharp and bright. Shadepool recognized her instantly - Spottedleaf!

Shadepool's heart leaped. Spottedleaf was here! That eased some of her nerves - she hadn't wanted to wander the stars, interrogating cats she had never met nor heard of before. She wouldn't have to fumble to find Barkface's whereabouts, not with Spottedleaf here.

Spottedleaf padded her way down the slope, her gaze focused and intent like a hunter fixed on prey. Shadepool was sure the ThunderClan medicine cat would've noticed her by now, but strangely, Spottedleaf was moving as if no one else was there at all. Shadepool's hope turned to worry.

Spottedleaf paused at the pool's edge, a few tail-lengths away from Shadepool. Still, nothing. Not even a twitch of an ear to acknowledge that Shadepool was there.

“Spottedleaf?” Shadepool decided to try speaking. Perhaps she was just too focused?

Spottedleaf did not answer. The tortoiseshell took a deep breath, then looked up at the stars, her eyes wide and unblinking.

Shadepool's pelt rippled uncomfortably. Spottedleaf had never ignored her like this. She looked down at her own paws and tested them against the ground, pressing hard. She felt solid and real, and she could feel the world around her - so why was Spottedleaf acting like she wasn't there?

“Spottedleaf, it's me, Shadepool,” she tried again, firming her voice, speaking a little louder. She drew a step closer. “Are you okay?”

Spottedleaf said nothing. She stared up at the sky, eyes open like an owl's.

Shadepool drew closer. Was she having a vision? Was Shadepool intruding on a StarClan cat receiving a prophecy?

Now she was a whiskerlength away, able to count the hairs on Spottedleaf's pelt, smell her cloyingly sweet scent, and see the stars spangling her body. The way she sat, so still, unmoving, made her seem like a cat made of stone. Her body wasn't even twitching to breathe.

Shadepool was thoroughly creeped out. “S-Stop it, Spottedleaf,” she mumbled. “Please...”

She reached out and touched Spottedleaf's shoulder with her paw.

Spottedleaf jerked, screeching as if she had been struck by a devastating blow. She twisted away, claws unsheathed, sides heaving with adrenaline. Her eyes were lit with aggression and fury as they bored into Shadepool as if she were a badger swallowing a litter of kits in her sight.

Shadepool stared at her, shocked, numbed by the spirit's sudden intensity.

“What are you doing here?” Spottedleaf snarled.

Shadepool flattened her ears. “I-I...” She swallowed. “I just wanted to know where Barkface is!”

“Barkface?” Spottedleaf sounded as if she had never heard the name before. Her tail whisked through the air.

Shadepool narrowed her eyes. “Barkface, yes,” she repeated. Shadepool steadied her breath. “He died two nights ago - three, now, I think. I need to know if his spirit made it to StarClan or if it didn't, like Onewhisker's. If he's here, I need to speak with him!”

“Oh,” Spottedleaf grunted. Her spine unbent and her posture relaxed, her fur lying flat. “That.”

Shadepool's ears rang at how dismissive her tone was. “Yes, that,” Shadepool insisted. She stared at Spottedleaf, confused. She repeated: “Do you know where he is?”

“I haven't looked,” Spottedleaf answered simply.

Shadepool's stomach twisted. “How have you not looked?” Her voice was a strained hiss. She didn't want to be outwardly frustrated with a cat from StarClan, but this was just baffling!

“It's pointless,” Spottedleaf replied, her tone glib. “The whole thing. A waste of time. There are far more important things to do.”

Shadepool bristled incredulously. She looked around herself again - the vibrant colors, the smell of starlight - this was StarClan, alright, so why did it seem like Spottedleaf wasn't Spottedleaf?

“Where is Yellowfang?” Shadepool demanded. If Spottedleaf was going to act like this, then Yellowfang was her best bet for answers.

Spottedleaf was sitting down on her haunches again. “Why bother with Yellowfang?” she wondered. Her tail twitched. “Why bother with a lost spirit? There are far more important things...”

“What could be more important than this?!” Shadepool snapped. Annoyance flashed in her pelt. “Spirits who should be here are going missing!”

Spottedleaf stared Shadepool in the eye. The face that had once given Shadepool comfort in her days as a young apprentice now looked strange, alien. It was Spottedleaf, but not, and it seemed as though Spottedleaf was staring right through her.

“The Omen,” Spottedleaf meowed gravely. “Have you not heard it?”

Shadepool blinked. “An omen?” she repeated. Was this what was making Spottedleaf act so consumed? “I've not heard of this. If there was an omen, why haven't we medicine cats been told?”

Spottedleaf's muzzle twitched. “Yellowfang,” she growled. The fur along her spine lifted again. She spoke quick and snappy: “She thinks I'm being obsessive. But she doesn't see what I see. She doesn't know what I know!”

Shadepool took a step back, nervous. The look in Spottedleaf's eye was wild and dangerous.

“Yellowfang wants to wait, wants to learn more,” Spottedleaf meowed on, her tail lashing, “but I know that we can't afford to wait. We must act. I'm the only one who truly understands the Omen - the only one who wants to do something about it!”

The StarClan she-cat's claws were digging into the soft earth surrounding the pool, and Shadepool felt her legs tremble. Was Spottedleaf going to attack her?

“The Eclipse is coming,” Spottedleaf raved. Her eyes were wide to their whites now. “The Four will come. Before there is peace, blood will spill blood, and the lake will run red! Before there is peace, the Omen must be fulfilled!”

“Spottedleaf, y-you're not making any sense,” Shadepool mumbled. She took another pace back, her tail bushed with fear. She had never seen any cat behave this way, let alone one from StarClan.

Spottedleaf did not stop: “There will be Four, blood of hatred and blood of hope, who hold the power of the stars in their paws! There will be Four, and they will sunder the heavens!”

Shadepool's ears rang as if she had taken a blow to the head. The words were dizzying, coming in a flurry as Spottedleaf ranted on and on, making very little sense.

“I see it in your eyes!” Spottedleaf said, leaning close to Shadepool. “Hope! Hope!” Spottedleaf's muzzle thrust close to Shadepool's. “The hope is in your eyes!”

Shadepool lurched back, stumbling over her own paws in an effort to put distance between herself and this deranged she-cat. “What is wrong with you?!” she screeched.

Spottedleaf did not look affected - in fact, she was still staring at where Shadepool had been and not where she was now. Spottedleaf just kept repeating the words over and over, her pupils thin as a claw.

Eyes stinging and belly knotted, Shadepool turned and fled. She ran up the slope until she couldn't hear Spottedleaf's voice any longer, crashing into a thicket of boxwood and cowering beneath its cover. She crouched there, trembling, claws stuck in the loamy earth.

Her heart felt like it had been pierced with thorns, gripped tight by despair. Spottedleaf had been her guide since she had been able to dream, so soft and gentle and sweet - the cat that had spoken to her now seemed almost possessed, a caricature of that beloved she-cat who had once guided and taught her. Shadepool wanted to sob.

“Shadepool?” a thick, raspy voice called. “Shadepool, is that you?”

Shadepool whimpered, “I'm here.”

It was Yellowfang - Shadepool exhaled. Thank StarClan, it was Yellowfang.

The old she-cat crouched down to peer into the boxwood, her dark orange eyes glittering with sympathy.

“So,” she wheezed, “you met Spottedleaf, hm?”

Shadepool could only nod.

Yellowfang sighed. “I'm so sorry, little one,” she murmured. “Ever since she heard that Omen, she's become impossible to talk to. No one's sure of what's happened to her.”

Shadepool trembled. How could the sweet Spottedleaf she had known since the beginning of her training become so twisted by some omen?

“H-Has this ever happened before?” she asked.

Yellowfang grimaced. “Kind of.” She wiggled into the boxwood and wrapped her tail around Shadepool's trembling body, drawing her close like a kit. “Once, when I was young, there was a medicine cat that saw too many prophecies and omens at once. He went a bit mad from it, true, but he seemed to have a better handle on it than Spottedleaf does.”

Shadepool wasn't sure that made her feel better. She pressed herself into the tangle of Yellowfang's fur. “I just came here to find Barkface. I didn't think...”

“Barkface?” Yellowfang repeated. Her body shivered. “Oh, little one, I'm so sorry...”

“He's not here, is he?” Shadepool guessed.

Yellowfang shook her head.

“Do you know what happened?” Shadepool asked. After her encounter with Spottedleaf, Shadepool was too rattled to even be surprised. “Was it like what happened to Onewhisker?”

“Tallstar tried again, with others this time,” Yellowfang rasped. “But Barkface's spirit was gone.”

“How can that be?” Shadepool whispered. Horror finally managed to turn her body cold through the shock. “How can that happen twice?”

“The only thing we can think of is that something else laid claim to their spirits before we could,” Yellowfang grunted. Her tail wound closer, perhaps in hopes of warming Shadepool.

She shivered, regardless. “Is that possible?”

Yellowfang's eyes darkened. “When a Clan cat is born, so long as they believe in StarClan, we can guide them here - but remember that faith is complicated, little one, and not all spirits are so kind as we are.”

“The shadow-cats,” Shadepool guessed. She dug her claws into the dirt. “It has to be them.”

Yellowfang frowned. “We're beginning to think the same.”

“Can't you stop them?” Shadepool wondered. “You're StarClan!”

Yellowfang snorted. “'We're StarClan!'” she chortled, choking out a sound barely emulating laughter. “We're not all-powerful, Shadepool!”

Shadepool stared at Yellowfang, wide-eyed. “What are you saying?” she whispered.

“I'm saying that what's happening is something we don't know how to handle,” Yellowfang grumbled, her muzzle rankling. “We'll have to figure this one out together. It goes both ways and all that.”

“You can't help us.”Shadepool trembled to her toes. “I came here for nothing,” she whispered.

“Not nothing,” Yellowfang insisted. She put a broad paw over Shadepool's. “You came for answers, and you got them - you just don't like them and don't know what to do with them. Neither do we. This is something we might not understand for a long time.”

That didn't make Shadepool feel any better. “I'm so tired of doing all this for nothing,” she said bitterly.

Yellowfang made a gentle noise in her throat and licked Shadepool between her ears. “I am here, little one,” she mumbled. “I will always be here, no matter what.”

The dream was slipping, and Shadepool could feel it. She wanted to stay with Yellowfang for a while longer, but she knew she couldn't. So she closed her eyes and let herself drift away, the feel of Yellowfang's tongue against her pelt soothing her to the waking world.

#tb au #tb twilight

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twilights-800-cats · 25 days

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And here's the Labelled versions of SkyClan's Gorge Camp.

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twilights-800-cats · 25 days

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SkyClan's Gorge Camp

Set this one up during SkyClan and the Stranger, so I could have Sol in it :) Otherwise pretty straight forward! Leafstar and Sharpclaw in charge, Echosong and Frecklepaw being the Medicine Cats.

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twilights-800-cats · 29 days

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Twilight is done over on Patreon! I'm now sticking my ankles into the story of Sunset, but Patrons will be seeing exclusive concepts and notes from Twilight, along with original works (and art) in the meantime, so if you're interested, consider checking it out!

Like I said, I intend to start posting the Ao3 version of Rising Storm, probably next week, and of course, Twilight will keep going on Tumblr and FF.net until it's done!

Twilight is heading towards its conclusion for Patrons, so here's a reminder that it's only $1 a month to read ahead over on Patreon!

And, for those of you who are wondering, the TB AU will resume on Ao3 once it's done posting over on Patreon!

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twilights-800-cats · 30 days

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<< Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 || Chapter 19 || From the Beginning || Patreon & Ko-Fi >>

Chapter 18

The days leading up to the next Gathering were uneventful, but Shadepool couldn't deny the tension that crept up on her Clanmates like an approaching predator. She didn't blame them, not when she felt it herself.

The last Gathering had changed so much around the lake, especially for ThunderClan. What if Mudstar had found some little excuse to declare outright war? The uncertainty felt like claws in Shadepool's throat, and she missed when Gatherings had been quieter, with only the occasional border crossing or theft to shake things up.

She had tried to see Crowflight almost every night that she could justify sneaking away - but she had found the stepping-stones empty each time. She prayed it was just his deputy duties keeping him away and not something worse.

I'll see him tonight, she told herself. Hopefully, we can find the time to talk... Who knew? Maybe tonight would be a return to form for Gatherings? After all, WindClan had only attacked ThunderClan the once, and that had been an independent plan, according to Crowflight...

“Shadepool, you there?”

Shadepool flinched out of her own head. She found herself staring right into Sorreltail's yellow eyes and, with a flash of embarrassment, realized that the tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat had been trying to ask her for something.

“S-Sorry,” Shadepool insisted, feeling flustered. “What was it you wanted?”

Sorreltail's whiskers twitched. “I told you, I'm feeling a little nauseous...” she prompted.

“Right, right,” Shadepool confirmed. “Some juniper ought to take care of it.” At least, she hoped it would - it was about all they had. She was about as tired of doling it out as she was sure her Clanmates were of having to eat it.

Her fur prickled as she ducked into the medicine store. If Brackenfur had caught her ignoring a patient, she'd have lost her whiskers! Thankfully, he was outside the cave, talking with Tinystar about who to bring to the Gathering.

Shadepool came out with a pair of berries and rolled them over to Sorreltail. “If you're not feeling better after these, come and see us again,” she instructed. She peered at her friend and added, “You're not showing any more serious symptoms, so it'll probably pass.”

Sorreltail gave the berries a sniff. “I hope so,” she sighed. “I'm already missing the Gathering tonight.” She lashed her tail in frustration. “I shouldn't have eaten that old chaffinch!”

Shadepool watched her friend lap up the medicine. Sorreltail's fur rippled at the taste, but she swallowed without complaint. She swiped her tongue across her muzzle and wondered, “You're going tonight, right?”

“Yes,” Shadepool answered.

“You'll have to tell me how it goes, then,” Sorreltail sighed. Something sparked in her eye, and she pleaded, “Please, be careful - WindClan might try to start something.”

Her worry touched Shadepool. She touched her muzzle to Sorreltail's ear and meowed, “It'll be fine. Besides, if StarClan tries to stop the Gathering and Mudstar goes against their wishes, it won't exactly help his case.”

“I suppose.” Sorreltail's tail still twitched with unease. “Still, watch yourself. We're not on the Great Journey anymore.”

Shadepool walked Sorreltail out of the cave, her own stomach turning at her Clanmate's words. Out in the clearing, in the deep red light of the evening, every warrior was gathered around Tinystar and Brackenfur, clamoring for a spot on the Gathering patrol.

When Sorreltail headed off to the warrior's den to rest, Shadepool sighed heavily, heading to the back of the crowd. She didn't need to sense her Clanmate's emotions to feel how they stirred her ear fur or clouded the air with their scent.

Sorreltail is right - the Great Journey feels like a lifetime ago now.

Her gaze rested on Nightfrost. Her littermate was with Mistyfoot and Rainwhisker, and she couldn't help but notice how troubled his expression was. The Great Journey and the friendships made then had meant so much to him - letting go of those bonds would hurt him most of all.

Shadepool tested the thorns between them again but did not press when she met resistance. He wasn't ready yet, and she still had no idea what to say. Instead, she turned her attention to her father, who was trying to divide up the Clan:

“Mousefur, you're staying behind to hold down the camp,” Tinystar meowed. “Cloudtail can help you.”

Mousefur made an annoyed sound, but Cloudtail piped up, “We'll keep things safe while you're gone, don't worry!”

Tinystar nodded to his niece in appreciation. Shadepool supposed that was a prudent choice - Dustpelt seemed to be going to the Gathering, and he and Mousefur often agreed with one another. Keeping the two apart would cause less drama, and Cloudtail was a good foil to keep things light at the camp.

“Cinderpelt, you're with me,” Tinystar decided. “Mistyfoot, you too. Ashfur, you can bring Larchpaw, but keep an eye on him with the other apprentices.”

His gaze scanned the crowd. Shadepool guessed that her father was trying to leave the camp with a strong enough team of warriors to defend it should Mudstar try something dirty - but taking too few warriors would make Tinystar look like he had something to hide. It was a difficult balance, and Shadepool didn't envy him the task.

“Rainwhisker, you didn't go last time, so you can come tonight,” Tinystar decided. “Swiftfoot, you're coming too, and... Nightfrost, you can join us. That should be enough.”

Shadepool found herself agreeing with her father's choices. WindClan had injured Rainwhisker, so if Tinystar brought it up, he would help make a strong case. Swiftfoot was the Clan's strongest fighter, but he made Tinystar seem confident if he was away from camp. Nightfrost was friendly with cats in all the Clans, and bringing him could help smooth any rough conversations.

“Tinystar,” a quiet voice meowed, “may I come?”

It was Ferncloud. Shadepool saw her father considering it, and then he nodded. Ferncloud's eyes shimmered, and Shadepool was surprised at the queen's ingenuity - ThunderClan had no active queens at the moment, but bringing a gentle mother like Ferncloud would help show ThunderClan had security in itself. Not only that, but Ferncloud, like Nightfrost, had friends in all the Clans' queens, and she probably wanted to watch out for Larchpaw since Snowstep was staying behind.

“Alright, the party is decided,” Tinystar meowed sharply. “Everyone who wasn't chosen is to stay behind and guard the camp. Mousefur, Cloudtail, set up sentries along the hollow's edge.”

“Will do,” Mousefur grunted.

“StarClan willing, we won't need them,” Tinystar sighed.

“Better safe than sorry,” Graystripe assured. He nudged Tinystar and urged, “You should get going - the moon is going to rise soon.”

Tinystar nodded. He lifted his tail, and the crowd parted to let the Gathering patrol through. Shadepool joined Brackenfur just behind Tinystar, nerves wiring the places where her fur and skin met. She glanced at her mentor, wondering what he was thinking, and found that he had his gaze fixed straight ahead.

Heart thudding, Shadepool decided to do the same.

———————————————————

ThunderClan was the last to arrive at the Gathering, despite them leaving early - having to take the long way around through ShadowClan's and RiverClan's territories made it so when they leaped from the cedar tree-bridge and onto the island's shore, the other three Clans were already mingling, and the clearing was filled with conversations that stopped abruptly at their appearance.

“Yikes,” muttered Rainwhisker. “Do we stink or something?”

Dustpelt nudged him, giving the younger warrior a cross look.

Shadepool twitched her whiskers. At least some cat was trying to make light of things - the trip here had been quiet and serious, a marching trot meant to get them to the island as fast as possible and keep the other Clans from getting upset at their presence in their lands.

Many of the cats in the crowd shrugged their shoulders and resumed their conversations after Rainwhisker's remark. Only some of the cats stopped talking to glare at the ThunderClan party - Shadepool noted with a chill that they were almost all WindClan, with a few RiverClan and ShadowClan eyes narrowed in solidarity.

“The meeting will start soon,” Tinystar meowed quietly. His icy eyes flashed especially to Dustpelt and Swiftfoot. “Don't start anything.”

He slipped into the crowd, and the patrol broke apart. Brackenfur immediately went to join the other medicine cats, while Duspelt and Cinderpelt found Oakfur of ShadowClan and joined his conversation. Larchpaw headed for a group of apprentices, prompted by Ashfur, who lingered close by.

Shadepool heard a squeal and got to her paws, alarmed, but quickly realized that it was Larchpaw, who was tackled by two ShadowClan apprentices. They were licking him all over, purring, much to the disgust of the other older apprentices watching. Shadepool let her fur lie flat, but her heart still thudded hard in her ears, and Ashfur looked like he might expire.

Rainwhisker, Nightfrost, and Mistyfoot met Stoneheart and his friend Pinewhisker in the crowd, and the group immediately sat together to talk. Ferncloud trotted past them, heading for a cluster of queens - she brushed noses with Dawnflower of RiverClan immediately.

“You made it!” she breathed happily, barely in Shadepool's hearing range. “How are the kits...?”

Shadepool didn't need to overhear their conversation. Instead, she found herself curious, staring at the gathered crowd. She thought back to the tuft of gray fur, and though she knew Tinystar had been right, it really, truly hit her just then - most of the cats in this crowd were gray-furred. There was no way to make a concrete accusation based on fur color alone. Something about that was comforting, though it still upset her.

Shadepool swallowed back her thoughts. Everything seemed to be going well, other than the WindClan cats avoiding the ThunderClan party like they were plagued. Shadepool supposed she shouldn't have hoped for more. She thanked StarClan that there didn't seem to be any outright fighting.

“You should join the other medicine cats,” said a quiet voice. “We're due to start soon.”

Shadepool felt his pelt brush against hers and breathed in his scent. Her heartbeat steadied, and she resisted the urge to sigh happily, conscious of how many cats were around her.

She meowed cordially, “It's good to see you, Crowflight. How are things?” She couldn't help but glance his way, trying to seem nonchalant, like a medicine cat above it all.

The look in Crowflight's eyes caught her off-guard. They were dark, like the lake's depths, deep and drowning. Shadepool couldn't help her own eyes widening a touch as her stomach sank.

Something's happened. Crowflight wouldn't risk approaching her at a Gathering, so out in the open, unless it was serious. He was smarter than that, or at least usually with cats who were smarter than that. He was giving her a very clear warning.

Shadepool dipped her head to him respectfully and split away. She tried not to hurry to the other medicine cats, or else they might think Crowflight had purposefully scared her - which he had somewhat. It was so difficult a line to walk, and she couldn't help but stumble as she clambered over the massive, tangled roots of the Great Oak.

“You okay?” Mothwing asked as Shadepool crawled up to her side.

Shadepool looked up at the beautiful she-cat and came up with the excuse easily enough: “It was a long walk.”

Mothwing's eyes glinted, and her tone was sympathetic: “I can imagine.”

Shadepool's mouth felt dry, and she tried not to see Crowflight's dark shape as it slid through the crowd toward the other deputies. The leaders were already in the tree branches, with Mudstar and Tinystar as far apart as they could manage to be and Leopardstar and Russetstar between them like a barrier.

“How're things in RiverClan?” Shadepool asked, pelt prickling.

Mothwing's whiskers twitched. “Well, they're okay, for the most part,” she mewed. Her tail wrapped around her paws. “We've had a few scrapes, but nothing serious.”

“That's good,” Shadepool breathed. “ThunderClan's been okay, too.”

She glanced at Brackenfur, who was with Littlecloud and Ryewhisper. The three medicine cats were huddled together, but it seemed like Ryewhisper was very uncomfortable, and his jaws seemed locked tight.

Mothwing made a noise in her throat. “They've been bothering him the whole time,” she mumbled. “Poor thing.”

Shadepool nodded in agreement. Her heart thudded in her ears, and she found herself staring holes into her mentor. The only other cat who might know what had happened to Onewhisker's spirit was Ryewhisper - was he trying to find out what the WindClan cat knew? Had he told Littlecloud and Mothwing?

No, he must not have, Shadepool thought. Both medicine cats would be a lot more freaked out if he had.

“He's surely got enough to deal with,” Mothwing continued, oblivious. “Can you imagine a cat as nervous as Ryewhisper having to listen to Mudstar?”

Shadepool shook her head. “I don't know how he's managing...”

“I guess we'll find out,” Mothwing yawned. She nodded up at the branches of the tree. “They're getting ready to start.”

Leopardstar's yowl sounded just a heartbeat later, clear and loud: “Cats of the four Clans, in the light of the full moon, we Gather as one! Be silent, and listen!”

The clearing went quiet, with all heads turning to the Great Oak, ears and eyes turned to silver by the moonlight. Only the rattle of the surrounding trees could be heard as Leopardstar scanned the island for any spare conversations she might have to silence.

When she was satisfied, she began: “RiverClan has been prosperous this past moon! Falcontail and Heronleap bravely drove off a curious badger, and despite the cold grip of leafbare, the prey runs well. RiverClan is full and happy.”

Shadepool glanced at Mothwing, shocked. “Your brother drove off a badger?” she hissed.

She expected pride from Mothwing, but the she-cat's muzzle twitched into a grimace. “He did,” she mumbled quietly, “but Heronleap nearly lost his muzzle for it. He's healing well, but going two-on-one with a badger like that was reckless.”

Shadepool glanced up at Leopardstar and supposed that a proud she-cat like her wouldn't want to mention that.

It was Russetstar's turn. The dark ginger she-cat stood tall as she announced, “Prey runs well in ShadowClan's territory: Nightwing has moved to the nursery, and I am proud to announce that we have two new apprentices with us tonight - Willowpaw and Rushpaw!”

“Willowpaw! Rushpaw!” the Clans cheered.

Shadepool glanced over at the apprentices and suddenly recognized the two ShadowClan cats that had tackled Larchpaw so happily - Finchsong's kits looked so different now that they were 'paws, having lost their kitten-fluff. The three young cats had been almost inseparable on the Great Journey.

No wonder they were so glad to see each other, Shadepool thought warmly, happy that some remnant of the Great Journey's friendships had remained.

“Willowpaw has been apprenticed to Pinewhisker,” Russetstar meowed on, “while Stoneheart has taken on the honor of mentoring Rushpaw.”

Shadepool's eyes widened. Though the Clans didn't cheer for the mentors, she couldn't help but purr, her eyes stinging with pride - Stoneheart, with an apprentice? She couldn't think of any cat in ShadowClan who deserved one more!

Shadepool spotted Mistyfoot in the crowd. She was with her brother, congratulating him alongside Nightfrost - but Shadepool couldn't help but wonder how she was feeling. First, Ashfur had been given an apprentice, and now her brother... There were no new kits in ThunderClan. Was she feeling left behind?

“Good for them!” Mothwing purred. She glanced down at Shadepool and wondered, “Stoneheart is a good mentor, right?”

Shadepool nodded. “He taught me some moves on our trip to the lake,” she answered. The memories tickled her fondly. “Thankfully, I've not had to use them yet.”

Mothwing sighed. “It's a good thing for a medicine cat to know,” she said simply. “Just because we're healers doesn't mean we can't defend ourselves!”

“Do you still practice your warrior moves?” Shadepool asked, tilting her head.

Mothwing nodded, her gaze serious. “I've got to keep my claws sharp - you never know!”

Finally, it was Tinystar's turn: “ThunderClan has little to report. Despite it being leafbare, our land has treated us well, with plentiful prey and shelter from the cold. My warriors are ready to face any new challenge - especially with Ashfur training Larchpaw, our newest apprentice.”

“Larchpaw! Larchpaw!” Though no cat in WindClan cheered, Rushpaw's and Willowpaw's voices were loud enough to be a Gathering on their own, and Larchpaw seemed happy at their praise.

Shadepool couldn't help but tremble, staring up at her father as the cheering died. Was he going to mention the WindClan ambush?

Tinystar, however, dipped his head to Mudstar, and settled back down on his branch, a dark shadow in the oak.

Shadepool swallowed. So he was going to hold onto the information, then - perhaps he was trying to give Mudstar the benefit of the doubt in case it escalated things too far? In the crowd, she could see Rainwhisker looking perturbed until Mistyfoot calmed him with some quiet words.

Mudstar came forward, still balancing awkwardly on his leg injury, which seemed to be as healed as possible, to Shadepool's eye. The WindClan leader would likely have a permanent limp for the rest of his life - possibly as severe as Brackenfur's thanks to his advanced age.

Mudstar's sharp eyes scanned the clearing, and every cat held their breath. What was he going to say? What was he going to do? He had made the last Gathering an event to be remembered, after all - was he going to do the same tonight?

The sky was clear, and Shadepool flexed her claws in anticipation. Whatever Mudstar was planning, she wished he'd get on with it.

“Last Gathering, WindClan did not have a chance to welcome our newest warrior.” Mudstar's voice was a thin rasp with the barest hint of a snarl. “I would like to rectify that - Thornpaw has become Thorndusk!”

“Thorndusk! Thorndusk!”

The WindClan warriors cheered the loudest, though Shadepool spotted a young gray ShadowClan warrior's shining eyes as he stared into the crowd at a cat Shadepool couldn't see.

Mothwing made a noise. “How sweet,” she murmured. “She was named after Duskflower!”

Shadepool recalled then who Thorndusk was and nodded in agreement. Thorndusk had been an apprentice on the Great Journey and had gotten terribly injured in the mountains. The ShadowClan queen Duskflower had saved her life by sacrificing her own. It was strange for a warrior to be named after a cat from another Clan, but that sacrifice must've meant a lot to Thorndusk.

“Robinwing has also given birth to a strong litter of four kits,” Mudstar meowed as the crowd quieted. “Their names are Blizzardkit, Galekit, Sleetkit, and Ashkit.”

The crowd called out the names, and Shadepool glanced over at Crowflight. She didn't know this Robinwing, but how did Crowflight feel about her naming one of her kits after his mother?

“Good news for WindClan,” Mothwing sighed, oblivious again. “Four kits! That's wonderful!”

“How are they?” Littlecloud asked Ryewhisper, perhaps hoping he would answer that question, at least.

Ryewhisper did not respond. Littlecloud glanced at Brackenfur, who sighed quietly.

Shadepool wasn't surprised, though. Ryewhisper looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but where he was right now.

Still, things seem to be going well for WindClan, she thought. Maybe Mudstar really is good for them. He hasn't even mentioned Onewhisker... She stared over at Crowflight, recalling the look in his eyes. Had that been her imagination?

Mudstar, however, was not done: “WindClan has one more announcement to make.” His voice had gone broken and rusty. “As you all know, when Onewhisker and Barkface were ambushed, Barkface survived with several injuries.”

He lifted his graying muzzle. “I come here tonight to tell you that Barkface has joined his warrior ancestors in StarClan. He passed on two nights ago, just as the moon turned full.”

Just like at the last Gathering, the entire world seemed to jolt to a stop. So powerful a feeling it was, Shadepool felt as if all the breath had been driven from her lungs.

Barkface is dead?!

She looked down at Ryewhisper. No wonder he hadn't said a word tonight!

“That's terrible,” Leopardstar sighed. She shook her muzzle, her gaze glazed with sorrow. “He was a noble cat.”

“StarClan will welcome him,” agreed Russetstar

Tinystar shifted on his branch. “Mudstar,” he murmured, “I'm so sorry.”

Mudstar squared his shoulders. “Keep your sorrow, ThunderClan,” he growled softly. “You have no idea how much he suffered because of what you did!”

The mood of the clearing shifted immediately. Once again, tension filled the air, and Shadepool watched the crowd shift, splitting into four Clans again. Shadepool's heart sank - all Mudstar had to do was accept Tinystar's words, but of course he just couldn't!

She looked up at the sky. No clouds, not yet. Her tail trembled.

“Is it true?” Brackenfur wondered, his rasping voice bringing Shadepool's muzzle down again. “Did he suffer?”

The medicine cats leaned in towards Ryewhisper expectantly. The WindClan medicine cat shivered.

“I tried to keep him comfortable as best as I could,” Ryewhisper mumbled, finally. He seemed to sink into himself. “He was delirious from fever and pain in the end.”

“Did he say anything?” Littlecloud wondered. His small ears flattened. “Anything at all?”

Ryewhisper shook his head. “Nothing that made sense,” he admitted. The thin tom hunched his shoulders. “He mumbled of shadows and pain. That's all I could make out.”

Shadepool's heart crept into her throat, and she locked eyes with Brackenfur. Shadows and pain? Did that mean what she thought it meant?

Her ears were buzzing. She was vaguely aware of the cats in the clearing clamoring chaotically, but she was so far removed from that now. All she could think of were the shadow-cats, and that Barkface might have seen them, too, in his final moments. If they had come for him and not a cat from StarClan... Was that what had happened to Onewhisker?

I have to find Barkface's spirit!

“Shadepool?” Mothwing's voice cut into the noise. “Are you okay?”

Shadepool blinked, realizing that her claws had been tearing at the root she was perched on. She forced herself to unclench, unsure how to answer Mothwing without spilling everything - so, instead, she stared at Brackenfur, willing him to know what it was she needed to do without her having to say.

He looked up from Ryewhisper and stared back at her, but his look was so severe that it was, without a doubt, a refusal. If he could speak, she was sure he would tell her to wait, to stay put for now.

Shadepool felt like she was about to vibrate out of her pelt. We don't have time to wait! She wanted to scream at him. What good had waiting done so far? What good did waiting ever do?

There was a yowl in the crowd. Vaguely, she recognized Swiftfoot's voice and saw a flash of white. The cats in the clearing shuffled, some screeching, as a tussle broke out amidst them.

“That's enough!” Tinystar yowled. His eyes blazed like stars. “Swiftfoot!”

Brackenfur tore himself away from the medicine cats. “Have you no self-control?” he snarled. He stomped into the crowd, the fur along his spine bristling. “Starting a fight at a Gathering! Your ancestors would be ashamed of you!”

Shadepool flattened her ears. Everything was devolving. Mudstar was flinging accusations, and Tinystar was flinging them back. Littlecloud joined Brackenfur in an attempt to quell the fighting. Tawnypelt and Crowflight stepped in to pull apart Swiftfoot and his opponent, Softbreeze, but another fight started just beside them as Dustpelt pounced on Crowflight, accusing him of trying to hurt his Clanmate.

Shadepool's ears rang as Crowflight and Dustpelt rolled across the clearing, claws and teeth flashing. Stoneheart and Mistyfoot separated the two, with Nightfrost pressing himself between them, begging them all to stop.

“Shadepool...” Mothwing mewed hesitantly.

Shadepool felt sick. The tang of blood was in the air, but the sky was still clear. She met Mothwing's gaze. The golden she-cat was just as terrified, her claws unsheathed as if she might have to defend herself at any moment.

“I have to go,” Shadepool meowed, her voice a strained whisper. “There's something I need to do. I can't tell you why right now, but-” She hesitated, her mouth dry. “But I will. I promise.”

Mothwing's eyes flashed. “Do it,” she said, swallowing. “Go. Get out of here! I'll cover for you.”

Shadepool was shocked - she'd expected the RiverClan she-cat to at least question what it was she intended. Shadepool touched her nose to Mothwing's, filled with love for her friend. “I'll owe you,” she promised.

“This Gathering is over!” Leopardstar snarled, her voice resonating powerfully. “Mudstar, Tinystar, control your warriors!” The moonlight highlighted her dappled body as she leaped into the throng of tussling warriors.

Shadepool didn't see what happened next. She tore away from Mothwing and the others, leaping into the undergrowth that ringed the clearing. She crossed the tree-bridge without thinking much about where she was putting her paws - she could've landed in the lake and not missed a step.

As soon as she touched down on the opposite shore, she ran across the stony marsh as fast as her paws would take her.

#tb au #tb twilight

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