[TB] STARLIGHT -- Chapter 2

<< INDEX || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || From the Beginning >>

Tawnypelt led the way, heading towards a forest of willows. Crowflight felt a sting in his heart – the moorland that WindClan would call home was the other way. He glanced at Mistyfoot, who was just a step behind RiverClan’s deputy. His pelt flashed with frustration. If Mistyfoot were in the lead, we would’ve talked about where to go first!

The others didn’t seem bothered, and that only ruffled Crowflight’s fur more. This was probably their last chance to explore together as one before the Clans broke apart again, and they were just going to let Tawnypelt, a cat that hadn’t even gone through all they had gone through together, lead the way?

Fine, if they want to act like we’re four different Clans again, so be it! Crowflight thought with a huff. His pelt prickled and he pulled a step away from the others, his fur awash with a sudden discomfort at being so close. The Clans were going their separate ways once they came back, anyway – what was the point in acting like they weren’t?

Crowflight instead focused on what lay ahead, and where his paws were taking him. As he looked around at the whole lake territory, it seemed like the land was gently scooped away, and if one laid down and rolled, they would eventually end up in the lake. This part of the land was made up of low, rolling hills, the type that didn’t obfuscate vision as much as the much steeper ones that he’d grown up with.

Just ahead, beyond the willows, were forests of pine and oak and maple, thick and dense in a way that made Crowflight’s pelt itch just looking at. Even the little patches of nearby woodland, mostly willows and birches, didn’t look so oppressive and dark. His eyes caught on the grayness of the earth below that deep forest and he guessed that swampland awaited them there. Stoneheart ought to like that, for sure...

He shook the thought away. Why should he care what ShadowClan needed or liked? He was here for WindClan! Stoneheart probably didn’t give a toss about what WindClan might need.

Stop being so mouse-brained, Shadepaw’s voice said in his mind. Her tone was sharp but friendly, and Crowflight imagined her paw up to bat him over the ear. You can’t just assume what other cats think, remember? Acting like that is what puts everyone off from getting to know you!

Crowflight swallowed and focused on where he was putting his paws, trying to put away the sound of his friend’s voice in his ears. Thankfully, his eyes caught on the glint of water not far ahead.

“There’s a stream,” he meowed.

“Good eye,” Tawnypelt returned, flicking her tail. “It doesn’t sound deep.”

Mistyfoot’s ears pricked. “Oh, I know that one,” she mewed. “If you follow it away from the lake, and keep to the fork that leads into the woods, you’ll get to the sun-drown-place.”

“The sun-drown-place?” Tawnypelt repeated. “Feathertail mentioned it, briefly. What’s it like? How far away is it?”

Crowflight felt irritation itch inside his ears, but Stoneheart said what he wanted to say, and he said it kinder: “It’s too far to make a suitable territory,” the ShadowClan tom meowed diplomatically. “About a day’s walk.”

Mistyfoot added, “It’s not a viable place to swim or fish, either – the water’s too choppy and the current is too strong. Not to mention the cliffs - they're taller than anything a cat can handle, and the drop is fatal.” After a small pause, she meowed, “It’s a beautiful sight, though; Stormfur and I saw it when we were here last.”

Tawnypelt’s eyes flashed. “I see.”

Crowflight glanced between the two she-cats. So far, he was sure no cat outside the chosen few knew that Mistyfoot and Stormfur had become more than just traveling comrades on their journey. He wasn’t sure whether or not the matter would cause a problem between ThunderClan and RiverClan, even now that Stormfur was dead.

The others seemed just as wary of Tawnypelt’s reaction, too. Stoneheart’s gaze was sharp and searching, while Nightfrost seemed fidgety, ready to jump to his Clanmate’s defense. Crowflight swallowed, unsure what he’d be able to add to the argument, other than it seemed foolish for Tawnypelt to care, given that she was half-ThunderClan herself, a point every cat here knew just as well.

Instead, Tawnypelt moved on. Mistyfoot sighed with relief as the tortoiseshell turned away from the conversation, heading for the bank of the stream. She was already dipping her paws in, testing its depth with her body.

“Good, not too deep,” she mewed when the others had caught up. She was up to her belly in water. “We ought to be able to cross just fine. Careful, though, it’s cold.”

Crowflight figured it must’ve been shocking to the RiverClan she-cat when the others splashed in without complaint. Even Nightfrost, who was up to his chin, managed to fjord his way across with little difficulty. Crowflight’s skin shivered at the touch of the ice-cold water, but otherwise it was nothing, especially compared to the raging ice-cold water-wall that had swept them into the Tribe’s territory.

Tawnypelt hopped out on the other side with whiskers twitching. “Did Feathertail and Stormfur teach you all how to swim?” she wondered, shaking water off of her back legs.

Stoneheart gave his entire body a shake, then went to help Nightfrost squeeze the excess water from his pelt. Crowflight busied himself with shaking water from each paw, while Mistyfoot licked her chest fur.

“Kind of,” she admitted between licks. “There weren’t a ton of streams on the journey, but they did talk us through it just in case.”

“They taught us to fish, though!” Nightfrost chimed in. Crowflight sighed – the ThunderClan warrior looked like a burr, with his fur all fluffed up to its ends. Nightfrost shook his pelt out again and purred, “We caught Twoleg fish!”

“She taught the Tribe, too,” Stoneheart added. “Feathertail, I mean.”

Tawnypelt’s eyes flashed again. Crowflight expected her to say something biting, but instead she mewed, “I suppose I can’t fault them for that. Who knew what you were going to face on your way? And those Tribe cats look like they could use all the help they could get for prey...”

Crowflight bristled a little at that. “They do just fine,” he defended, “but they had a lot of water they weren’t using.”

Tawnypelt’s ear flicked, and then she sighed. “I suppose we can’t be too fussy about it, anymore,” she admitted. She nodded at the lake with her muzzle and reasoned, “RiverClan can’t claim to own the whole lake. That would be foolish.”

“It certainly would be,” Stoneheart agreed, his pale gaze even. “It’s a source of water that every Clan ought to have access to.”

Tawnypelt nodded in agreement. “I wouldn’t recommend too much fishing in it, though,” she reasoned. “Fish are somewhat brainless, but they recognize patterns. Too many catches in one place and they’ll all go to the middle and down into the depths. No cat, not even a RiverClan warrior, could hope to reach them there!”

“Wow!” Nightfrost breathed, his eyes sparkling. “I had no idea!”

Tawnypelt’s whiskers twitched in amusement. “Any good hunter knows not to overhunt the same place,” she meowed. “The same goes for fish!”

“So, where to next?” Crowflight wondered. He couldn’t help but feel somewhat annoyed by the distracting conversation, his eyes traveling across the lake to the moorland, which was now directly on the other side of the lake. If we keep talking, it’ll take days to get to anywhere for WindClan!

Mistyfoot flicked her tail. “Let’s take a look around this area for a moment.” She glanced at Tawnypelt, and wondered, “What does RiverClan look for in a camp?”

“Someplace near water,” Tawnypelt answered, looking somewhat cross. Was she upset that Mistyfoot had answered Crowflight before she could? It didn’t last. “But the water can’t be deep, or else kits might drown in it. A tree for shelter, like a willow... plenty of reeds and bushes, too.”

Crowflight looked around. There was another stream nearby, a fork off of the one that they had just crossed. It led in a different direction, cutting into the willow woods nearby, and it seemed much thinner than the stream they’d just crossed. Beyond that, though, Crowflight saw only lowlands, dotted with an old willow here or there.

“Huh, look at that!” Nightfrost mewed. “There’s an island in the lake!”

Crowflight’s ears pricked. There was? He turned his head, following Nightfrost’s gaze – sure enough, in the water there floated a large body of land. Crowflight recalled seeing the trees from the Arrival, but from that vantage it had looked more like a small extension of land rather than the island that it was.

Crowflight saw something small bobbing in the water channel between the mainland and the island. He tilted his head. Was that a cat?

“Would that make a good camp, you think?” Nightfrost wondered, looking to Tawnypelt.

“I don’t think so,” Tawnypelt decided. “An island provides safety, but it’s also a dangerous position to be in. I’d bet three fishtails that the shallows don’t extend too far beyond it, and getting prey to and from the mainland would be risky and definitely more annoying than it’s worth.”

“Some cat seems to think it worth looking into,” Crowflight pointed out. He nodded to the dark shape bringing itself onto the shore. “I can’t tell who it is from here, but someone’s curious.”

Tawnypelt sighed. “It’s probably Falcontail,” she mused. “I’m sure he took one look at the island and thought the same as you, Nightfrost.”

“But if it’s a bad spot, why look into it?” Mistyfoot wondered. “Wouldn’t he also know that it wouldn’t make a good camp?”

Tawnypelt shrugged. “He’s Leopardstar’s son – you try telling him otherwise. He’s always been a very loyal warrior, but he’s young, still, and headstrong besides.” She sighed, and added, “I often wonder if going on your journey might’ve changed that about him!”

Stoneheart’s eyes flashed at that, and Crowflight saw his lip twitch. Crowflight couldn’t help but feel much the same – having Falcontail along, instead of Feathertail or Stormfur? No thanks!

As the conversation petered out, the patrol fanned out and began to look around. Tawnypelt assured them all that camping in the willow woods was not something RiverClan would prefer, so the group avoided it, choosing instead to keep close to the banks of the streams and nearer to the pebbly shore of the lake.

“Haha, look at this willow!” Nightfrost purred. “It’s leaning!”

Crowflight tipped his head at the funky tree, whose trunk was bent in a way that reminded him of a stretching cat. Its long branches trailed in the stream, even.

“That could be a good border marker,” he noted. “It’s very distinctive.”

Tawnypelt nodded. “It certainly is,” she said. She got onto her hind paws and sank her claws into the soft wood. “Reminds me of the trees back in the old forest, that’s for sure!”

It was reminding Crowflight of something, too, but he couldn’t put his paw on it.

It was just past sunhigh when the patrol regrouped beside the leaning willow. None of them looked as if they’d been successful – Crowflight certainly hadn’t. Stoneheart sighed and meowed, “Between this stream and the next, there doesn’t seem to be a good spot.”

“The willow was cool,” Nightfrost added, “and Mistyfoot and I found an old log with that’s definitely a nest for prey!”

Tawnypelt nodded in understanding. “We should hunt and take a small break, then. You were in this area when you got to the lake, right? Was there anyplace we can rest?”

Crowflight’s ears pricked. “I remember now!” he breathed, his mind flashing with realization. The others looked at him like he was a hare in the open, and he went on hurriedly, “That place where Midnight spoke to us? That would be a great RiverClan camp!”

Nightfrost’s eyes sparkled. “It would!” he agreed. He looked at Stoneheart and Mistyfoot, and asked sheepishly, “Wouldn’t it?”

The two littermates glanced at one another, a silent conversation passing between their eyes. Then, Mistyfoot meowed, “It’s a possibility – if nothing else, it’s a good spot to eat.”

Tawnypelt’s mew was dry: “Any cat care to fill me in?”

Stoneheart led the way towards the spot while Mistyfoot spoke: “When we got to the lake, an old she-badger named Midnight came to us. She brought us to this place and we rested here while she told us about what was happening in the old forest...”

The stream that cut between them and the glade was thinner and far shallower than the previous one, which made Crowflight feel even more confident about the idea. Nightfrost splashed through it with ease, after all – couldn't a kit do the same?

The glade was a very shallow scoop of earth caught between yet another forked stream, the water still and quiet as it flowed off towards the thinner willow woods behind them. It was ringed with untamed bushes and reed beds, but Crowflight imagined that a cat could easily create something functional out of the greenery. Above was a tall, young willow whose bent trunk let its drooping branches shelter a good portion of the spacious clearing.

“Oh, wow!” Tawnypelt breathed, stepping into the shade. “It’s lovely!”

“Not quite the RiverClan camp of old,” Mistyfoot agreed, padding up to Tawnypelt’s shoulder, “but it could be the new one...”

Crowflight saw the look on Tawnypelt’s face – awed and hopeful, reined in by just a touch of experience. The tortoiseshell she-cat looked at Mistyfoot and only nodded, clearly deep in thought about the possibilities.

“Nightfrost and I will go hunting,” Stoneheart announced. “We’ll scout out some good spots for prey to get RiverClan started, too.” He flicked his tail over Mistyfoot’s shoulder, and only when she nodded at him in approval did he and Nightfrost leave.

Crowflight took the moment to sit down and groom the water stench from his fur. Mistyfoot and Tawnypelt were walking around the perimeter of the camp, sniffing each bush for possible foxes or badgers, chatting amongst themselves. When they seemed satisfied, they joined him in the center of the clearing.

“It’s got good bones,” Tawnypelt mewed, sitting down on her haunches. “I think we could really make something marvelous out of this place.”

Mistyfoot’s eyes shone. “Wonderful!”

“Except...”

Crowflight’s ear flicked. “What’s wrong with it?” he groaned.

Mistyfoot shot him a look, but Tawnypelt went on, looking towards the thin willow woods behind the glade, “I think there’s a Twolegplace back there. I saw some fences between the trees... I don’t know if Leopardstar will go for a camp so close to a Twolegplace...”

“I don’t think it’s that big of a Twolegplace,” Mistyfoot reasoned. She nodded to Crowflight and asked, “Go up the willow and check, would you?”

Crowflight got to his paws and nodded, grateful to be of use rather than just sitting there licking himself. He approached the willow and sighed, wishing that he didn’t have to climb it – yet it looked like an easy enough job. He bunched his haunches and leaped, landing easily on the trunk. Crowflight recalled Nightfrost’s instructions and dug his claws in to keep his position stable.

The climb was easy – the wood was soft and supple, and the trunk’s bend was very supportive for a cat. He looked down at the glade below and realized this might be a great spot to make Clan announcements – not that he imagined Leopardstar climbing a tree to do it. He spotted Tawnypelt and Mistyfoot looking up at him, eyes round, and he bit back a scoff. He didn’t need them worrying...

He took great care on the thinner branches as he got closer to the top. He cursed the way that willow branches bent – it made it rather difficult to get out very far to see, but he was far enough above the treeline to see what lay behind the willow woods. Crowflight dug his claws in and hunkered himself down, opening his eyes as wide as he could.

Tawnypelt was right – there was a Twolegplace just beyond the willow woods, but it was only a few dens, with one Thunderpath connecting them all. It certainly was not the sprawling web of Thunderpaths that Crowflight and the other chosen cats had experienced on their way to the lake, and it was far smaller than the Twolegplace that had bordered ThunderClan and ShadowClan in the old forest.

Beyond that, the willow woods were larger than the Twolegplace itself. So long as RiverClan were careful, they would probably never even see a Twoleg. Satisfied, Crowflight slid his way down the willow trunk.

As he was making his report, Stoneheart and Nightfrost were returning, prey in their mouths. Crowflight scented rabbit and his heart skipped a beat – it had been so long since he’d eaten one. After the Twolegs had poisoned them in the old forest, every WindClan cat was too afraid to try, even on the Great Journey.

Tawnypelt and Mistyfoot were busy discussing the camp while Stoneheart and Nightfrost distributed the meal. Eventually, though, Stoneheart joined the older she-cats, nodding his head here and offering a suggestion here or there.

“Don’t worry,” Nightfrost purred, pushing the rabbit towards him. “I took the first bite. Didn’t taste nasty at all!”

His breath proved it. Crowflight couldn’t help but feel grateful. For the first time in moons, he bit into the flesh of a rabbit and felt no fear. It was gamey and succulent and felt like home.

“There’s so much prey here,” Nightfrost meowed as Crowflight chewed. “Tawnypelt’s right – we'll have to be really careful about hunting!”

Nightfrost settled beside him, and Crowflight passed him back the rabbit. “What’re they talking about?” the black tom wondered, taking a large bite out of one of the legs. He pushed the rabbit back to Crowflight.

“Just the camp,” Crowflight mewed. He shrugged and sighed, “I don’t know what the big deal is, the place looks just fine for RiverClan to me.”

Nightfrost flicked his tail. “I’m sure Tawnypelt wants it to be perfect,” he purred. His tongue swept over his muzzle. “Mistyfoot won’t want them settling in a bad place, either. She’s real attentive like that.”

Crowflight didn’t miss the affection in his voice. For some reason, it only made his hackles want to rise. “She should focus on ThunderClan,” he grunted. “She'll worry herself into a fit otherwise.”

“Probably,” Nightfrost sighed. “But that’s just not like her, you know? After everything we’ve been through together... I don’t think any of us could ever ignore the needs of the other Clans, no matter how much we wanted to.”

Crowflight stared down at his rabbit, the rabbit that Nightfrost had caught for him, probably using WindClan techniques to do it. Crowflight snapped one of its bones between his teeth, trying to bury deep the feeling that Nightfrost was definitely right.