[TB] STARLIGHT -- Chapter 24

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When Crowflight woke the next day, it was past sunhigh.

He lifted his head, still feeling tired and groggy. I could sleep for a moon... He knew he couldn’t, though; some cat would have to wonder why. Ashfoot had already noticed that he’d been sleeping in frequently.

As he got to his paws, he glanced around the den. He was the only one inside, thankfully, and he was able to groom the sleep from his pelt in peace. He found a piece of birch leaf in his flank and, flustered, quickly stuffed it into the bracken in his nest as his heart hammered in his ears.

He thanked StarClan swiftly that no one was around to see him do that. The others had been so distracted by the events of yesterday that no cat had thought twice of him slipping into camp so early in the morning in the first place; but if someone had guessed he’d been so close to ThunderClan territory, and with a ThunderClan cat...

Crowflight swallowed. Frustration bubbled in his throat. I’ll need to be more careful, he decided. Right now, Shadepaw was his only refuge from the things that bothered him – he had to do everything he could not only to keep that, but make sure that she was safe, too.

The idea of stepping out into the camp made Crowflight tense. After the day before, Onewhisker had tried his best to return the Clan to normal; but WindClan was well past normal, now. It would be some sort of miracle if cats that had stood on opposite sides of the clearing, ready to spring at one another, were suddenly just fine with hunting and patrolling together the next day.

Some cat would look for him eventually, though, and he was starving – so, reluctantly, Crowflight pushed his way out of the den and into the clearing.

At this time of day, things ought to be calm and moving smoothly, but it was anything but – the air in the camp was cold and tense, frigid like ice over water. Crowflight wondered if he could score a line in the air with his claws.

The camp seemed to be divided into two halves – Mudclaw's followers were gathered near the elder’s den, where the dark tabby tom was laying and chatting quietly with Tornear. Softbreeze joined them, her tail-tip flicking irritably.

On the other side, near the main entrance, were Onewhisker’s supporters – the Clan leader was not there, but Whitetail was, her gaze scrutinous as she observed Mudclaw. Beside her, Webfoot and Bramblefur sat, hunched against the cold. Bramblefur looked as if she were about to be ill, while Webfoot glowered over at Tornear with a very disappointed expression.

Crowflight fought to keep the fur along his neck flat. This isn’t how a Clan behaves! He thought. Something had to be done – Whitetail looked like she was ready to spring, and Mudclaw looked like he certainly wouldn’t mind it!

Stiff-legged, Crowflight made his way to the medicine cat’s den. He’d not been inside since the camp was established, but now it seemed like a good excuse to escape the looks he was getting from his Clanmates, expecting him in one camp or the other. Perhaps Barkface had some wisdom to aid their Clanmates in getting over themselves? Not to mention Ashfoot was there, too – she had to be able to do something!

It was pleasantly warm inside the den, insulated from the cold by a hill of earth. Barkface and Ryewhisper had hollowed out shelves of dirt to store their herbs, and there was plenty of space not only for the medicine cats, but their patients, too, to stretch and sleep on the soft sandy floor. Ashfoot was curled in her nest, while Barkface was preparing an herb packet for Smokewillow.

The sight of Smokewillow sank Crowflight’s hopes. So much for a quiet talk...

“... I’m just worried about the kits – Robinwing, too!” Smokewillow was meowing, beseeching Barkface. “She was really freaked out about yesterday, and she doesn't feel comfortable in the camp anymore!”

The brown tom sighed. “I did all I could, Smokewillow,” he meowed. “It’s in the paws of StarClan, now.”

“And have they said anything?”

Barkface’s gaze was level with the warrior. His patience, something that was never very strong to begin with, was running thin: “You ought to know better than to ask that, youngster. It’s not your place to badger me about StarClan!”

Smokewillow didn’t flinch. He pressed, “What if StarClan won’t talk to us because of Mudclaw? What if they won’t show us to a new Moonstone until we get rid of-”

“Watch your tongue!” From her corner of the den, Ashfoot’s voice was sharp. “You’re talking about your own Clanmates, Smokewillow! You’d do well to remember that.”

Smokewillow’s eyes went round. “I-I was just... I...”

Barkface sighed. “I’m hesitant to give Robinwing too many herbs, but I’ll mix some thyme in with her borage. That ought to calm her nerves, for now.”

Smokewillow closed his jaws. All he could do was dip his head in thanks – but when he turned around to leave, he was face to face with Crowflight.

Crowflight felt a chill run down his spine. Smokewillow’s eyes were full of anger, and when he made his way out of the den, he made sure to push Crowflight aside, nearly ramming the smaller tom into the earthen den wall.

Staring helplessly after him, Crowflight thought, Great StarClan! Does he hate me? Just because I stood beside Mudclaw?

“What is it you want, Crowflight?” Barkface wondered, his tone dry.

Crowflight swallowed his thought, turning his muzzle towards the old medicine cat. Barkface was tying together some herbs, probably for Robinwing, but his yellow gaze was fixed on Crowflight the entire time. Crowflight might’ve admired that if the gaze weren’t so piercing.

“I was just...” Crowflight felt like he’d eaten wool. Barkface was well aware of the camp’s temper, that was clear – if Crowflight asked him about it, he might not leave with his ears. He glanced quickly at his mother, and hastily mewed, “I’m here to see Ma.”

“Well, go on then,” Barkface sighed. Deftly, his paws finished up wrapping the leaves and stems he was arranging. “I’ve got to get these to Robinwing.”

Crowflight moved aside to let the old cat through. When Barkface was gone, he sighed, and then turned to face his mother. Cautiously, recalling her expression yesterday, he stepped towards her, tail low.

Ashfoot’s ear flicked. “I’m still your mother, Crowflight,” she mewed, her tone tired as she guessed him out immediately. “It would take quite a lot for me to stop loving you.”

Crowflight surged forward and pressed his muzzle against hers gratefully. “I’m sorry!” he breathed.

“It’s okay,” Ashfoot sighed. “I’m sure you had your reasons...”

“It was Duskwhisker,” Crowflight confessed. He sat on his haunches, shoulders hunched and tail curled around his paws. “She needed my help, wanted me there to-”

“To...?”

Crowflight bit his tongue. Ashfoot’s expression was curious, but he didn’t know whether or not he ought to reveal what they had done, what had spurred Mudclaw to confront Onewhisker and call for a casting of stones. Involving RiverClan might just make things worse.

“To be her friend,” Crowflight finished lamely. “I promise, Ma, that’s all I was doing.”

Ashfoot tipped her head. “So, you don’t agree with Mudclaw?”

Crowflight grimaced. “Not about everything,” he admitted. He kneaded his paws into the sandy floor. “I think he’s right that Onewhisker should tell us the truth, but I don’t think he’s the leader Tallstar wanted... or the one WindClan needs.”

Ashfoot’s gaze darkened. “Crowflight, my son, you cannot set aside your beliefs just because a friend asks you to...”

You don’t understand! Crowflight felt bile rise in his throat. She was looking at him like he’d disappointed her again, and he felt it like a blow.

“It’s like you said,” he mumbled, struggling to explain himself in a way that didn’t toss Duskwhisker under a Twoleg monster. “Mudclaw has his good points. Onewhisker does, too. But I don’t think they can work together anymore.”

“Yes,” Ashfoot agreed, her tone somber, “I think we’re long past that.”

Crowflight was desperate to change the subject: “How’s your shoulder?”

Ashfoot grimaced. “Still sore,” she admitted. “Barkface said he wants to keep me here to watch for infection. With it being leafbare, there’s so few herbs...”

Crowflight nodded in understanding. He licked his mother around the ear. “You’ll be ordering us around in no time,” he purred.

Ashfoot’s expression softened, for a moment, but it drifted back into worry. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to - Crowflight could easily guess what was on her mind: Depending on how things turned out, when Ashfoot recovered she might not be deputy anymore.

There might not be a WindClan anymore.

Stomach tightening, he excused himself from the den to let his mother rest and pushed his way out of the warmth and into the cold.

“Come on,” Webfoot was growling. The gray tom was glaring at Tornear, who was still beside Mudclaw. “We’re going hunting with our apprentices, remember?”

Tornear curled his lip. “I can take Thistlepaw out on his own,” he retorted. “He does better without Weaselpaw distracting him, anyway.”

Webfoot’s eyes narrowed. “We were ordered to go together, Tornear,” he snapped back. His gaze flicked to Mudclaw. “Or have you forgotten who your leader is?”

Tornear curled his lip, and Crowflight thought he might lash out – a shock, considering how close Tornear and Webfoot had always been. Mudclaw stayed Tornear’s paw, thankfully.

“Go on,” Mudclaw offered. “Thistlepaw and Weaselpaw need to get their training in when they can, especially with their punishment.”

Tornear looked surprised, and almost as if he might protest – but instead he nodded, and got to his paws. When Tornear went to fetch the apprentices, Webfoot twitched his whiskers at Mudclaw curiously.

Mudclaw narrowed his gaze, as if guessing what Webfoot was wondering. “My quarrel is with Onewhisker,” he growled simply, “not the rest of you. Contrary to what Onewhisker believes, I don’t want to mess with the lives of the Clan.”

“But you’ll turn us against one another regardless,” Webfoot hissed back. “Say what you like, snake – but you should’ve left last night. WindClan doesn’t need this, and it doesn't need you.”

Crowflight’s heart thudded in his ears, and the entire camp seemed to pause, wondering about Mudclaw’s reaction to that – but the dark brown tabby said nothing. Unsatisfied, Webfoot lashed his tail and stalked out of camp, not bothering to wait for Tornear or the apprentices and brushing harshly past Duskwhisker as the black she-cat made her way inside.

He was about to tell her what had happened, when something more concerning followed her through the gorse tunnel – Tinystar, Mistyfoot, and Graystripe, followed by Emberstep and Onewhisker.

Crowflight’s heart caught in his throat. The scent of the ThunderClan cats flowed over the camp, alerting each and every cat still inside. Softbreeze hissed, and Smokewillow preemptively put himself on guard before the entrance of the nursery. Poppyfoot blocked the view of the broken-down chunk of wall with her body. Barkface emerged from the dirtplace and shook out his pelt, his gaze questioning.

“What are they doing here?” Crowflight hissed, heart thudding in his chest.

“Emberstep and I spotted them halfway through the hills,” Duskwhisker muttered as she drew close. “Tinystar demanded to speak with Onewhisker, and wouldn’t take buzz off for an answer.”

Crowflight flicked a glance towards Mudclaw. The tabby tom was bristling, his claws unsheathed. These were the last cats he ever wanted to see walk into the camp with Onewhisker.

“Did he say what he wanted?” Crowflight asked.

“Nope,” Duskwhisker grunted.

Of course.

“Your camp looks good,” Tinystar meowed amicably. If he was aware of the hostility aimed in his direction, he didn’t show it. Crowflight would think Tinystar blind if he didn’t get the message, though.

Instead of acknowledging it, Tinystar nudged Graystripe and purred, “I think it’s better than their camp in the old forest, hm?”

“It certainly seems cozy!” Graystripe agreed. He, too, seemed unruffled – but that just seemed to be Graystripe. “But out here, anywhere out of the wind is better than the alternative!”

Mistyfoot didn’t add anything to the conversation – instead, her gaze roamed, searching the cats of WindClan for one face in particular... When her eyes landed on Crowflight, they brightened, and she lifted her tail in greeting.

Crowflight swallowed a lump in his throat, conscious of his Clanmate’s eyes and the atmosphere in the camp. He tightened his tail close to his body and broke eye contact with Mistyfoot, knowing it was the right thing to do but feeling awful about it regardless.

He hoped to avoid the hurt in her expression, but a glance taken too soon made him see the sorrow in her eye and claws clenched at his heart.

“We’ve done our best here,” Onewhisker mewed along, nodding his head. “But our camp aside... why are you here, Tinystar?”

“Yes, why are you here?” Barkface wondered, getting ahead of any other cat. His gaze glittered hopefully. “Has there been any news of a Moonstone?”

Tinystar sighed. “Unfortunately, no,” he admitted. “But we are looking – Brackenfur barely sleeps, and Shadepaw is out nearly every day, scouring our territory.”

Barkface sighed, his gaze troubled. “Tell Brackenfur to rest,” he decided. “That leg of his must be causing him some pain – it's been a cold leafbare.”

“I will,” Tinystar agreed. His gaze leveled on Onewhisker. “What we’re here for, though, is to talk a warrior’s talk – our border has been compromised one too many times lately since the Gathering, Onewhisker. I want an explanation as to why.”

Onewhisker looked surprised, his ears pricking. “Border crossings? But what cat would bother, when our border is so difficult to cross?”

“That’s what I’m wondering,” Tinystar meowed. “The Divide alone should be an effective deterrent, but we found WindClan scent on our side this morning. Faint, likely a day old, but present nonetheless...”

Crowflight stiffened.

Duskwhisker, beside him, felt it. Pretending to lick his ear, she used the opportunity to hiss quietly, “Fluff-brain!”

Crowflight sank his claws into the earth. He couldn’t really respond, only think desperately of how his scent could have possibly ended up on the other side of the river when he and Shadepaw had stayed on the WindClan side yesterday.

She must have tried to roll in the snow to clear her scent! He wanted to curse her for being so foolish, but she was a medicine cat – she didn’t know the best ways to hide one’s scent because she never had to!

“... well, I’ll be sure to tell my warriors to leave the border alone,” Onewhisker meowed.

Crowflight’s ears pricked. He’d missed their entire discussion!

Tinystar nodded. “We’ll be keeping a lookout for any more trespassing,” he warned. “The leniency period is long over, after all.”

Onewhisker’s eyes flashed. “If you find who’s responsible, bring them to me. They will be appropriately punished.”

“See that they are.” Tinystar’s icy gaze was level.

The ThunderClan leader dipped his head and then left, flicking his tail for Mistyfoot and Graystripe to follow. The fluffy gray warrior mewed a hasty good-bye, while Mistyfoot held her head low, glancing one last time at Crowflight before disappearing into the gorse.

Once the ThunderClan cats were gone, heated conversation sprang up:

“Wasn’t me,” muttered Smokewillow. “Who wants stinky ThunderClan squirrels, anyway?”

“Was probably one of Mudclaw’s cats,” Whitetail meowed, sidling up to Onewhisker. She glared over towards the elder’s den, her gaze narrowed. “Just trying to cause trouble!”

Mudclaw curled his lip.

“Enough, Whitetail,” Onewhisker meowed, sounding tired. He forestalled the white she-cat with a paw. “Whoever it is will slip up again soon, if they were clumsy enough to do it in the first place. Regardless of who they are, they’ll be punished according to the warrior code...”

Crowflight swallowed.

“Come on,” Duskwhisker hissed in his ear. She nudged her cheek against Crowflight's shoulder, pushing him along.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“I didn’t get to finish my hunting patrol,” Duskwhisker mewed. “And you slept in all day - so let’s go, before some cat puts two whiskers together and figures out who ThunderClan’s ‘mysterious trespasser’ is...”

Crowflight glanced back at his Clanmates, watching them huddle together tightly in their little groups. He grimaced, and decided that he would definitely rather hunt.

———————————————————

“Did you see how quickly Whitetail took Onewhisker’s side?” Duskwhisker mewed. “I think she’s got a thing for him.”

Crowflight picked his way through the grass. “Ew, really?” He tried to imagine it. “But he was her mentor!”

“Yeah, ages ago,” Duskwhisker countered. She sniffed at the base of a heather bush. When she came up empty for prey-scent, she meowed on, “We weren’t even born when Whitetail was an apprentice. I think it’s probably okay now, isn’t it?”

Crowflight rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s between them,” he grumbled. “We don’t even know whether or not they’re padding after each other to begin with.” It concerned him more that cats like Tornear and Webfoot, who had been close for their whole lives - practically mates themselves - were now glaring at one another like they were sworn enemies.

As they strolled away from the camp, he knew that Duskwhisker was trying to keep things light. He appreciated it, even if the topic of conversation was not quite his thing.

“Imagine their kits!” Duskwhisker chuckled. “They’d probably be cute... but so insufferable!”

“Yeah, well, kits of Clan leadership usually are,” Crowflight chuckled.

Duskwhisker glanced over her shoulder. Then, as if they were far enough from camp for her tastes, she asked, “Is Shadepaw insufferable? With Tinystar as a father, I can only imagine...”

Crowflight bristled. “She’s not at all!” he hissed. “Neither is Nightfrost, in case you were wondering.”

Duskwhisker rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I hope it’s all worth it – not only is she the ThunderClan leader’s daughter, but she’s a medicine cat. How many codes are you two breaking again?”

Crowflight curled his lip. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s not like that?!”

“Say it as much as you like, but we both know it’s not true,” Duskwhisker muttered. “The denial act was funny before, but now it’s just frustrating – and it’s going to get you both in a lot of trouble. At least if you’re honest with yourself, you can make it easier.”

Crowflight lashed his tail. “Well, that’s our problem, not yours.” He glowered at her. “I thought you didn’t want any part in it, anyway.”

Duskwhisker flicked a paw against his nose. “You look out for me; I look out for you. That’s all,” she reasoned. “Now, we should hunt, right?”

Grumpy, Crowflight countered, “That’s what we were out here to do!”

They wandered through the Golden Hills searching for prey. Most scent trails led nowhere, though, and the cold and snow were clearly driving prey belowground. As the sun passed behind some snow-laden clouds, Crowflight was about to suggest calling off their hunt when, suddenly, Duskwhisker took off. A moment later, Crowflight picked up the same scent she had – rabbit!

The two warriors stalked their prey through the grass, the wind in their faces and the snow soft and quiet beneath their paws. As they crested a small slope, they spotted the rabbit washing themselves just before a thicket of gorse.

Breathing in, Crowflight smelled the thick scent of their prey. Into Duskwhisker’s ear he murmured, “That must be its warren in the gorse...”

“Then we’d better not chase her into it,” Duskwhisker resolved. “I’ll come around the back and scare her into your paws. Can you handle that, fluff-brain?”

Crowflight rolled his eyes. “Get moving, before she runs off!” he hissed.

Duskwhisker slipped away. Crowflight’s heart pounded in his ears – she wouldn’t have long before the wind carried her scent to the rabbit. Duskwhisker would have to be very crafty in her approach. The dark she-cat disappeared behind one of the hills, using it to block her smell. Meanwhile, the rabbit was still washing, oblivious.

Crowflight kept his eyes peeled for his Clanmate. Her dark shape appeared just as the wind shifted in their favor, blowing down towards the lake. Duskwhisker darted out from behind the hill, racing towards the rabbit at full pelt.

The rabbit didn’t notice until it was too late – Duskwhisker was basically upon the small creature before it started moving. Crowflight’s mouth watered, hunger clawing at his belly.

Just as he prepared to catch the rabbit, though, the earth gave way beneath the rabbit's warren as Duskwhisker thundered over it. In a plume of dust and with a yowl of terror, Duskwhisker was swallowed up.

Crowflight, horrified, didn’t even notice as the rabbit pelted past him. He streaked down the hill, tail bushed out.

As the dust cleared, he saw that the soft earth of the warren had slid out from beneath Duskwhisker’s paws, tumbling into the rabbit warren. In the darkness, he couldn’t see anything, and the whole place smelled too deeply of rabbit and soil for him to make out Duskwhisker’s scent.

“Duskwhisker!” he cried into the dark, his voice bouncing off of earthen walls. Keeping two paws on solid ground, he reached out with his forepaws. “Dusk! Are you there? Dusk!”

For a paralyzing heartbeat, there was no sound. Crowflight, terrified, dug his claws into the soil. StarClan, she can't be dead! Oh, please!

Then, there was a cough from below: “I’m okay!” Duskwhisker’s voice came up from the hole. “I think...”

He spotted movement down the soil slope. Duskwhisker’s face came into view, her black fur caked with dirt and dust. It made her more visible in the darkness, oddly enough.

“Can you get out?” Crowflight called down.

“I think so,” Duskwhisker meowed. He saw her shift, and then heard her hiss, “One of my paws hurts...”

“Try,” Crowflight urged. “I’m right here!” He didn’t want to leave her in the hole if he didn’t have to – if there were any more rabbits inside, they might not take kindly to an intruder.

Duskwhisker nodded and began to struggle her way up the slope. Crowflight thanked StarClan that it wasn’t too steep, nor too long – he was able to grasp Duskwhisker’s scruff in his jaws and pull her up to the surface within a few moments, the she-cat's spine taking out even more of the tunnel as she slid through.

She lay on her side, panting. “That rabbit... is evil,” she decided.

Crowflight sat beside her, dusting her pelt off with his paws instead of his tongue. The last thing she needed was to get sick on her way home, and the last thing he wanted was to taste rabbit dirt for three days.

“I’ve never seen a warren that big,” he agreed.

“I don’t think that was the warren,” Duskwhisker admitted. She coughed up some dust. “She must’ve dug just close enough to something else’s den, and the earth was weak...”

Crowflight glanced at the new hole. All that remained of the rabbit’s little warren was the gorse bush, hanging by its roots over the break in the earth. He sniffed at the entrance, but he couldn’t detect any signs of fresh air, or scents of other animals, and the light was poor inside. But if it went under the hill...

There was time to think about that later. “We need to get you to Barkface,” Crowflight decided.

“Yeah, yeah,” Duskwhisker agreed. She tried to get to her paws, but when she put weight on one of her forepaws she winced and wobbled. “Ow!”

Crowflight supported her with his shoulder. “I’ve got you,” he breathed. “You might’ve wrenched something on your way down...”

“Just my luck!” Duskwhisker groaned.

“Yeah, yeah,” Crowflight meowed. “Come on, just keep your weight up off it...”

“Shadepaw teach you that?”

Crowflight lashed his tail. “That’s just common sense!”

Duskwhisker purred, amused. She seemed about to tease him more, but she coughed up dust instead. “Ugh...” she complained, “I’m going to be tasting dirt for ages...”

“Serves you right,” Crowflight grumbled.

As they made their way back to camp, Crowflight did his best to keep Duskwhisker in good spirits, like she had him when they’d set out. However, it did little to make him any happier – the earth collapsing beneath Duskwhisker’s paws felt like just another reminder of Shadepaw’s dream, that it was not only possible metaphorically, but now physically too.

No matter how good things seemed in the moment, that was only for the moment. What lurked underneath it all was going to rear its head, sooner or later...