Jackdawnudge was fuming. Plumsong was an idiot. A damn idiot. It had been the plan for the three of them- he, Plumsong, and Lester- to go to the Pool tonight, but they had barely begun their journey when Plumsong had tripped on a rock and sprained his paw.
Now he was hobbling back to camp himself and it was just Jackdawnudge and Lester, coated in protection, Lester carrying the conch, making their way to meet the other medicine cats.
The entire journey there, Jackdawnudge was in a bad mood, especially since good old-fashioned rainclouds were beginning to crawl in. He could smell the storm on the breeze, but they were too close now to turn back, and the oaks would offer some shelter.
They were the first ones there; Hyacinthclan always set out early for such meetings, since they were the furthest from the Pool of Five Oaks, but it seemed they had arrived a little too early tonight.
Lester wandered around, as giddy as a kit to explore the place when it was empty, but it wasn't too much longer before Cloudrunner and Shardpaw emerged, meaning that Foggyclan was here, too.
"Hello! I remember you from the Gatherin'! Cloudrunner and Shardpaw, yes?" Lester said, bounding forward to greet them.
The huge gray tom purred with laughter and touched his nose to hers, Shardpaw looking at Lester curiously, and they touched noses, too.
"Oh, don't bother him. He's been in a foul mood the whole journey, and it ain't changing any time soon." Lester called as she sat down with Shardpaw.
"Uh-oh. What's got this old bear in a mood?" Cloudrunner chuckled, sitting down next to Jackdawnudge.
"Plumsong sprained his paw on the journey. We had to send him back." Jackdawnudge growled, glaring at the other cat as he bumped him with his shoulder.
"Oh, I can see how this would ruin the entire evening. Of course he did it on purpose! How dare he!" Cloudrunner exclaimed, laughing.
If it hadn't been sacred, Jackdawnudge would have tossed him in the pool for that.
"He's getting on in moons, Jackdaw, and it's dark out with a storm coming in. Accidents happen. No reason to grouch about it, especially when Wasp has to deal with it, not you." Cloudrunner said, sobering.
Jackdawnudge didn't reply, but soon enough, Birdtail and Redpaw arrived from Weedclan, Tansynose from Kinkclan, and Pinestrike finally meant that Ferretclan was here, too.
These days, none of them held their breath in hoping to see their ancestors. It had been so many moons now. But they all scattered around the small pool, positioning themselves so they aligned with the trees, and touched their noses to the water. Lester, Shardpaw, and Redpaw still had training to do, so they would do it, even if Starclan wasn't there.
None of them slept long. It was the same as always now; unending darkness that should have held the forests of Starclan, and they woke up before too long.
They all looked at each other and shook their heads, and got on with it. Jackdawnudge had had to figure out a lot of this himself; Plumsong had been so sick when he had become a medicine cat that he hadn't been able to impart lessons for a while. But Lester would receive proper guidance, at least, and so would the other two apprentices. And while they were lucky to loners had come to them with interest and skills in herbs, Jackdawnudge hoped that it wasn't too long before a young cat of Hyacinth wanted to take up the role of medicine cat.
"I think we need to talk about what happened at the Gathering. Or rather, what Dapplestar mentioned." Birdtail said, coiling her tail around her paws when it came to the time they talked.
"Dashclaw's body being devoured?" Pinestrike asked, niddling the fur between his toes.
"Yes. But didn't you notice it? Dashclaw was dead, and that... That... Silence happened. Foggyclan reported it when Icywind's patrol was slaughtered, and Lester, you said it happened when Palethicket died?" Birdtail said, Jackdawnudge catching on.
"You're pointing out that it doesn't happen just when living cats are killed. When the bodies are devoured, too." he said, disgust and fear pulsing through his belly.
"It could be because Dashclaw was freshly dead, because none of the other graves on our territory were disturbed. Has anything touched Loudclaw's grave?" Tansynose said, looking over at Birdtail.
"It has been dug at, but the body was still there. We covered it back up, and nothing tried again." Birdtail answered, Redpaw nodding his agreement.
"So, it's lookin' like it might be the livin' and the freshly dead they want... But that ain't good. We can't keep cats from dying, and who knows how deep these unseen monsters can dig. We can't know how deep we need to dig, and I for one do not want to have more monsters runnin' around because we needed to experiment and didn't figure it out." Lester said, scuffing the ground with her paw.
"How else are we supposed to respect our dead?" Pinestrike demanded, curling back his lips.
"We... Well, burying isn't the only way to get rid of a body. Moons ago, when I was a kit-" Cloudrunner began.
"Here we go." Shardpaw muttered.
"-Lightning started a very bad fire in Foggyclan territory. Two of our clanmates were trapped, and no one could get to them. By the time the fire was out and the ground cool enough to walk on, there was nothing left but their bones." Cloudrunner finished, ignoring the apprentice.
Jackdawnudge pricked his ears.
"That could work. Old bodies and bones... Nothing these things want." he said, mulling the idea over.
"Excuse me, but how are we going to get fire? We can't depend on a lightning strike every time a cat dies, especially since Starclan has left us." Pinestrike said, shaking his head.
"Fire burns when it has fuel. We gather some and trap it, and keep it burning. I've seen Twolegs make little fires when they come make nests for a few days. They feed it but keep it contained." Birdtail offered, tail flicking.
"But where? It would need to be somewhere safe! We can't have fire and then let it loose to burn the clans!" Pinestrike exclaimed, his own tail lashing.
"There are caves up in the mountains, just beyond the borders of Foggyclan and Hycinthclan. We take it there and fill the cave with prey, and we cycle through cats every now and then to keep it burning and fed. Then they switch, and patrols gather fuel to keep it burning. When a cat dies, we hold a brief vigil, and warriors deliver their body." Cloudrunner said, eyes shining with ideas.
"I don't know... Burning them..." Tansynose said, looking uncomfortable.
"Well, I think it's a good idea! I hate thinkin' that Palethicket is out there now, trapped as a monster, and I know she was alive when it got her, but if we can stop more cats from havin' that happen to 'em, I want to do it!" Lester exclaimed, leaping to her paws.
"It's not just our decision." Tanynose pointed out softly. "We'll have to bring it to the leaders and the deputies, who will have to discuss it with the clans."
She had a point, but Jackdawnudge didn't even have to talk to Goldstar to know what her decision would be.
They discussed it further and it would be a long walk, a lot of work, but it seemed like the best option. Better than their clanmates being dug and devoured, whether or not they actually became monsters, though those silencings seemed to signal it.
As they closed the meeting, they agreed that in three sunrises, they would all return, one medicine cat each, with their leader, and the decision would be made.
Jackdawnudge froze when Lester asked one final question as thunder rumbled; the storm looked like it was going around them.
"Say... Have any cats that have been badly wounded recovered real quick? Survived when they shouldn't have? Other than a leader, I mean?" she asked and Jackdawnudge held in a snarl.
All of the medicine cats said no, looking at Lester curiously, questioning her, but she backstepped quickly, spewing out something about wondering if it was just the leaders Starclan blessed or what. In the end, the others seemed to accept this answer, but Jackdawnudge hissed at her when they were alone.
"Do not mention that again! We do not know what happened to Amberpaw, even if it's happened again, and we do not want the other clans thinking he is cursed or anything of the sort!" he snapped, baring his teeth.
Lester shrank back.
"I'm sorry, Jackdawnudge. I just wondered, if any other cat had that happen, maybe we'd all be able to figure it out together." she said and Jackdawnudge sighed.
"Well, don't bring it up again. They could be protecting their own clanmates for all we know and lying, or it really hasn't happened to anyone but Amberpaw." Jackdawnudge said and with that, stalked away, leading the way home.
Jackdawnudge was surprised, but he sat beside Goldstar at the Pool and listened, and the leaders and clans were all in agreement.
It took some work; patrols raced across each territory as Cloudrunner lead the other medicine cats in finding a cave, and they got volunteers for the Firekeepers, as they would be called. They found a cave with what looked like a dried-up spring in it and an odd channel in the ceiling leading to the roof, and it was deemed perfect.
Dry branches, sticks, twigs, and bark were piled in the cave and then... They waited.
Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long. They almost didn't get it done in time, but Jackdawnudge was sitting in the entrance of the cave, looking out over the territories, when the storm hit.
A regular thunderstorm, it was fueled by the ocean, with strong winds and more lightning than wind, and somewhere in Foggyclan territory, a tree was struck.
They could see the fire burning, but all Jackdawnudge could do was wait, a cat from each clan beside him, including Aphidrise.
Soon, though, they saw the runners. The fastest cats in the clans, passing burning branches down a line, hoping that one would survive the journey.
The fire was soon getting closer, the storm leaving, and they could see it moving closer and closer as the runners raced to them. Just in case, Jackdawnudge had supplies to treat burns on paw, because there was no telling what would happen.
Finally, though, the runners arrived, the fastest, steadiest cats for the last leg- Flintfur and Almondfern, with Sandystone of Foggyclan and Rabbitpounce of Kinkclan. All four held burning branches and they shot into the cave, almost too fast for Jackdawnudge to get out of the way.
They flew into the back and hurled their branches into the pit with fuel sitting in it, and it caught, Almondfern sitting down and letting out a wail best suited for a kit.
Then-
"FUCK!" he yowled, pawing at his muzzle as the others collapsed on the stone.
"Quit your screaming and let me see." Jackdawnudge ordered, hurrying over to his grandkit.
Almondfern obeyed, his eyes wide and filled with pain, and he did have a decent burn on his muzzle.
Licking Almondfern on the ears, Jackdawnudge set to work treating it- He did care about his grandkits, after all, even if his own kits could be quite annoying.
"You were supposed to drop it if you were starting to get burned." Sandystone huffed, stretching out her long legs.
"We were almost here." Almondfern mumbled, letting Jackdawnudge do his job.
When he finished, they all looked at the fire roaring in the pit, the smoke being sucked up the sky tunnel, which quelled Jackdawnudge's fear of the Firekeepers choking on it.
"Do you think it will work?" Flintfur asked, gazing at the flames.
"We'll see." Jackdawnudge said, because he could make no promises.
All of this could be for nothing, in the end, but they had to try.
As morbid as it was, they wouldn't know until a cat died, and then... Well, either way, there would be decisions to make going forward. But Jackdawnudge hoped this worked, because if it didn't...
He wasn't going to think about that either. What mattered now was that they had options, even if, for now, they were going to have to wait and see.
Flintfur felt ready to burst with pride as he watched Yellowkit and Quailkit line up in front of the clan, their pelts perfectly groomed, Quailkit quivering with excitement, Yellowkit looking as dignified as her mother.
How reluctant she had been, a moon ago, to become an apprentice, and while she was still unsure, she was better than she had been.
And how excited her brother was, perhaps feeling the pressure of being the son of the leader and the deputy, despite their small clan and how they worked.
His beautiful, sweet kits. So grown up already, when it seemed like they had just been blind little patches of fuzz nuzzling at their mother's belly. When had they gotten so big? How had they grown up so fast?
No more nights in the nursery with them and Goldstar, and though they had the warriors' den when they were older, it wouldn't be the same. Flintfur couldn't imagine stuffing four fully-grown cats into a nest together, or that his adult kits would even want that. Part of him was tempted to ask Goldstar about another litter, though they were both getting on in moons.
Goldstar, perched in the branches of her den, was beginning the words to the meeting, and beside Flintfur, Amberpaw was waiting, and he wished he had gotten the chance to explain things to the young cat before this, but he was sure Amberpaw would understand.
"...Until they have received their warrior names, they will be known as Yellowpaw and Quailpaw. Gillfeather, step forward." Goldstar called out, and the cat obeyed.
Some of the clan was surprised, but with so few cats, there weren't really that many options for mentors, and the new warriors certainly weren't ready. And some cats, quite frankly, just did not want to be a mentor. So, even though Gillfeather had just mentored Almondfern, she stepped forward.
"Gillfeather, you have already guided one young warrior well, and I trust you to be able to teach Quailpaw the things he needs to know." Goldstar said and Gillfeather smiled.
Quailpaw rushed forward to touch noses with her and Flintfur could just hear his purr, and he knew Gillfeather was a good choice.
"Flintfur, step forward." Goldstar called out next, and Tulippaw stared with shock at him, Amberpaw sliding back, head hanging.
Flintfur would explain when he got the chance, but he could tell that Tulippaw was going to cause trouble with this. Mentoring his own kit... In other clans, bigger clans, clans that weren't as tightly knit as Hyacinth, it wasn't done. But their clan was small and Yellowpaw still so nervous of becoming a warrior that Flintfur and Goldstar had agreed that it might be easier if he mentored her. And it had been some time since he had had an apprentice, too.
"Flintfur, I know you will guide Yellowpaw well on the path to a warrior, and prepare her the future, so from this day forward, you will be her mentor." Goldstar continued and Yellowpaw turned to touch noses with him when he approached.
"I didn't want it to be you." she mumbled before they touched noses and he turned his chuckle into a purr.
"You're stuck with your old tom, my little one." he teased and they touched noses.
After the ceremony ended, Flintfur could hear Quailpaw already asking Gillfeather about finding good spots to gather moss, and he asked Yellowpaw to wait while he went to talk with Amberpaw.
Civetbeak's wound had healed, but his leg was still too weak for him to use, which meant that Flintfur was still unofficially his mentor.
Yellowpaw bounded up to her mother, complaining loudly about her mentor, and Flintfur caught up with Amberpaw, who was slipping into the apprentices' den.
"Amberpaw." he said and Amberpaw stopped.
"What?"
"I want to talk to you." Flintfur said, seeing how the young cat's tail was dragging on the door.
Amberpaw sat dutifully in front of him, and Flintfur wanted to sit next to him and wrap his tail around the apprentice, but he didn't. He did sit beside him, but he did not touch him, knowing Amberpaw did not like that. As he sat beside him, he realized how big Amberpaw was at ten moons; not nearly as formidable as Ashtalon, but he would be one of the bigger cats in the clan.
"Just because I have Yellowpaw doesn't mean I'm going to neglect your training. I can handle you both, and I'm not going to set you aside in favor of Yellowpaw. I'll train you right until Civetbeak can take back over, and if I need to train you all the way to your ceremony, that is what I will do." Flintfur said firmly and Amperpaw looked down, seeming embarrassed.
"I..." he said, swallowing.
"You had every right to be worried. I didn't have the chance to talk to you before the ceremony, but I wanted to make sure you understood. I'm going to do right by you." Flintfur told him and Amberpaw gave him a grateful look.
"Thank you." he murmured and Flintfur nodded, biting back the urge to lick the young cat's ears.
Yellowpaw bounded up to them at that moment.
"You're my co-apprentice." she said seriously and Flintfur wasn't sure where this was going.
"Yes." Amberpaw said.
"Then you better back sure Papa doesn't treat me like a little kit! I can't believe Mama did that!" Yellowpaw said and Amberpaw chuckled.
"Hey! I may be your mentor, but at the end of the day, you're always going to be my little kit. Same with your brother." Flintfur said, hooking her with his paw.
He hauled her between his front paws and drew his tongue over her ears, making her squeal and wriggle.
"PAPA! I'm an apprentice now!" she protested and Flintfur chuckled.
Why had they ever been worried about her?
"Come on! Quailpaw's getting ready to go out of camp. I don't want him to see everything cool before I do!" Yellowpaw said, wriggling free.
"Protection first." Amberpaw said to her and Yellowpaw nodded.
"Come on!" she said to him, beckoning with her tail, and Amberpaw rose to his paws.
She raced off, Amberpaw following after her, and Flintfur did, too.
He really had been worried for no reason, he thought. In the days to come, this would be proven to be true. He shouldn't have worried at all.
Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Amberpaw had died and come back to life, but other times it suddenly just... Hit Flintfur, and he found himself staring at his apprentice.
Like tonight, as Amberpaw, grooming himself before getting ready to be coated in protection, exposing the scar on his throat.
It was still a secret from most of the clan, and definitely something the medicine cats had edged around when they had talked to the others about it. They had no explanation.
The general thought was that Starclan had blessed him- Skypelt was convinced that Starclan had given him another chance- but what Amberpaw had described did not match with the accounts of Starclan any of them had, or Goldstar losing a life. It was very hard to tell, and to Flintfur, he felt it was more ominous than anything.
They already had proof that the monsters on the beach had been the dead queen and kits Plumsong had found, and now Amberpaw had died yet hadn't... Were souls not going to Starclan now?
Not that Flintfur was complaining that Amberpaw was still alive, but the thought that Starclan was so closed off that souls couldn't find their rest did bother him.
If Starclan had given him another chance, despite their silence, Flintfur knew it would have been Ashtalon's doing. His friend had loved Amberpaw more than anything, and if he could have saved him like that, he would have.
Flintfur looked away before Amberpaw caught him staring and they all coated themselves in protection- Well, most of them. Those going to the Gathering, anyway.
Goldstar (of course), Flintfur, Plumsong, Lester, Skypelt, Quietback, Aphidrise, Stoneleaf, Petalcurrent, Buzzardglide, Almondfern, Amberpaw, Tulippaw, and Fogpaw. It was too soon for Yellowpaw and Quailpaw to go, and just in case something happened, Flintfur and Goldstar wanted to wait until their kits had a little more training first.
Lester's litter was meowing from where Yellowlily was curled around them, the queen Foggyclan had sent them gone now that they were weaned, and they were pestering Lester to go, begging her to stay.
She got away, though, and soon they were heading out, walking away from the see, toward the Pool of Five Oaks. Not only was the place where medicine cats met with Starclan, but it was where they held Gatherings, a way to ensure peace, because no cat would dare cause real trouble directly in front of Starclan.
They had to walk the border that divided Foggyclan and Weedclan, sliding to the Foggyclan side because Foggyclan was allies. Weedclan... Well, they had peace now, but that moon-long bout of fighting and border crossing that wasn't quite a war was still fresh in everyone's minds, despite it have been two cycles ago.
They set out earlier than the other clans since they had the furthest to go, and they met the Foggyclan group on the way.
A good collection of cats, coated in protection too, and at the head were Icywind and Snowstar, the sisters, without protection, almost completely identical.
Flintfur had to confess, he understood what had happened that day on the beach with the dead whale and the monsters, but part of him had lost respect for Icywind with that. She had led her clanmates to die and though she hadn't known, it was a risk that had been obvious, and five of her warriors had died.
It had been moons ago now, but Flintfur could not shake the feeling, and he knew he was likely being unfair, but emotions weren't simple.
So he nodded politely and the two groups walked together, talking as they did, and it wasn't too long before the clans arrived at the Gathering place together.
Weedclan and Kinkclan were already present, surrounding the grass-and-moss-covered ground around the large pool, which reflected the moon perfectly.
Each leader sat in one of the great oaks, but not until all the clans had arrived, and in the meantime, the leaders mingled with the other warriors.
Flintfur noticed that Weedclan had forgone their protection, for the most part, and Skypelt curled her lip at that, but there was nothing to be done.
"Peace." he muttered, watching as the apprentices went to find each other.
Amberpaw was reluctantly dragged along with Fogpaw, because Tulippaw would not have insisted on him coming, and Flintfur went to mingle with the other deputies.
Runningstar approached Goldstar before Flintfur got too far and he noticed Hollowclaw was missing, and Runningstar looked apologetic.
Dapplestar joined them and Flintfur dipped his head to Canarywing and Fleetwhisker, of Kinkclan and Weedclan, respectively. Icywind trailed and soon all the clans presen were mingling, waiting for Ferretclan a little impatiently.
Finally, though, they arrived, led by the Curlstar, who greatly dwarfed the shape of his deputy, Webweaver. Upon their arrival, the clans began to settle, though the leaders first met with each other, and so did the deputies and medicine cats.
Plumsong and Lester (it was Lester's first Gathering) were in a group with Tansynose, Cloudrunner, Pinestrike, Birdtail, Redpaw, and Shardpaw, and Webweaver ran up to join the other deputies. Only a little bigger than Yellowpaw and Quailpaw, Flintfur kept thinking she was a young cat, when in truth she was about the same age as Quietback, and he touched noses with her.
Finally, though, things broke up and the deputies and medicine cats went to sit at the bases of the five oaks, the leaders climbing into the branches and settling on the lowest. Luckily, the Pool of Five Oaks was not that large, enabling the leaders to be heard from every nook and cranny of it, the way the land was carrying their voices easily.
Tonight, Curlstar began.
Ferretclan was doing well, despite everythig, it seemed, the leader announcing the birth of two litters and new apprentices, and sometimes all this news surprised Flintfur. He had been born into a larger clan, but he had become so used to Hyacinthclan tht it had become normal to have few kits and apprentices compared to other clans.
They reported an encounter with one of the unseen monsters, but no one had died, holding still and being quiet was definitely the method to deal with them.
Runningstar went next, reporting the death of one of Weedclan's elders to a rainfall, the cat found dead after going for a walk, not wearing protection, found in the territory. He also apologized for the encounter with Hyacinthclan on the border (though he had already done so through Wiggity Wacks) and that was a bold thing for a Gathering, though Flintfur knew neither Weedclan nor Hyacinthclan wanted to have a war this time.
They said prey was running well, and Fintfur wondered if any other clan had fond prey with black running from its eyes, but the medicine cats had reported that the others had not reported anything, and they were a little more free with information.
Snowstar was third, and announced that a warrior had lost their life while dealing with a badger, and that several others had been injured. Flintfur found himself glancing at Amberpaw and wondering if any other cats had experienced the same thing, and it was just being called 'injury' by the leaders.
Now was not the time to ask, however, and after Snowstar went, it was Dapplestar's turn.
Her news was the most disturbing. She reported that one of their warriors, Dashclaw, had died because of an infected wound and they had buried him sooner than was normal, as the warrior had requested it. But a rainfall had come during the burial (very soon after death) and with it had come one of the unseen monsters, and... The monster had dug up the body and consumed it.
There were murmurs of horror throughout the crowd and Dapplestar continued, describing the gray, fog-like time of silence that seemed to have exploded from the body after it had been eaten, just like with the Foggyclan cats on the beach, just like Palethicket.
Unease went through Flintfur at this and he exchanged looks with the cats around him, and he could tell which cats had witnessed this, judging by the looks on their faces.
The horror still prickled through Flintfur, even though this was the third time it had happened, about these cats who were no longer cats consuming the dead and causing these strange, gray silences.
Near him, Lester was shuddering visibly, no doubt remembering Palethicket, and Flintfur could see Plumsong running his tail down the she-cat's flank.
Questions were called out and Dapplestar did her best, but there was really no way for her to truly answer. Right now, most everyone knew about the same as the next cat.
If only Starclan would or could talk to them.
Flintfur glanced at the sacred pool they were all gathered around and looked up at the full moon, thinking of the Beach of Stars. Where were their ancestors? Was something truly cutting them off, or they had they merely abandoned them for some reason they didn't know?
He didn't truly hear everything else Dapplestar said, too wrapped up in his thoughts, and then it was Goldstar's turn to speak.
She said everything they had planned on, proudly announcing their kits becoming apprentices, but she kept quiet about what had happened to Amberpaw, and they had agreed that was for the best. Just to be safe. They didn't want anyone to think that Amberpaw was cursed or a monster, or that Hyacinthclan was as well.
She mentioned the black-eyed prey they had come across as well, but that was it, and soon, the Gathering would break up. Cats had a little more time to mingle, but then the leaders were calling them and the clans divided once more.
They went separately from Foggyclan and Weedclan now, giving them a head start despite the fact they had further to go, though they didn't give them too much of one.
Just enough so they wouldn't bump into each other and mingle, and Flintfur walked beside Goldstar, looking forward to cleaning the protection off his fur and curling up with his mate in their nest.
They were most of the way home when a rainfall came. They scattered, hiding beneath bushes despite the trees around them, and Flintfur blew on his conch; the other clans didn't use them but they knew the signal now.
The sound carried across the land and they waited it out; the rainfall never lasted long. Flintfur pressed himself to Goldstar as much as he could, taking comfort in her, remembering how he had once enjoyed the rain but now there was always fear that it would have that scent that indicated it was more than the usual kind.
Soon enough, it passed and the stars and moon were visible again, and they headed the rest of the way home. They broke through the trees, heading down toward the little cove where they made their camp, but as soon as they were free of the trees and the bare cliffs and hills, Flintfur halted.
Someone ran into him from behind, but he barely noticed, everyone soon stopping and staring.
"What is it?" Tulippaw gasped, staring.
Because far on the cliffs, far, far away from the Beach of Stars and their camp, stood on the Two-leg Stone Tree. It wasn't really a tree, being built of stone and completely branchless, and it was always a thing that stood in the distance, out in the territory no clans had claimed.
Once, when they were new here and looking for a camp, they had gone to look at it, and it had been so strange and abandoned. Nothing they could really find or be bothered with, though if they had managed to get inside that strange stone tree, it would have likely made an excellent camp, particularly in these times.
And yet, now, that skinny black shape in the distance, always unnoticed and unimportant, had a star shining from its top.
It was almost a three-day trek to the Stone Tree, but they had to investigate it. It had never shown before, never had a star caught at the top, and now... Well, they needed to know.
Did it have something to do with what was happening? Was it a sign from Starclan? Or was it merely Twolegs? They had to find out.
It was just Quietback and Skypelt, though Skypelt had wanted to bring Amberpaw along, but they had decided two warriors would be able to travel more quickly, and senior warriors at that.
The star only came out at night like all stars (so far), but it wasn't quite right, and Quietback had some small, fuzzy memories of Twolegs having lights they controlled. He thought maybe it was that, rather than a star, but he still wasn't sure.
They were getting close to the Stone Tree now and would reach it in the morning; neither of them wanted to approach it during the night, just in case.
Both their protection was wearing thin and Quietback looked at the clear, darkening sky, which was clear of clouds, but rainfalls always came without any sort of warning.
He also found himself glancing at the ocean below the cliffs they were on, a prickling sensation going down his spine.
He had not been close to the ocean since he had seen that... Thing... and he was finding liable excuses for it, but he wouldn't be able to do it forever. He was almost sure it hadn't been real, but that fear and feeling of being unsettled was still there, and he shook his head.
"Do you want me to carry that?" he asked Skypelt, nodding to the conch slung over her body.
"In the morning." Skypelt said and glanced at the sky.
"We should find a place for the night, just in case." she said, so they did.
They had to retreat from the cliff's edge quite a bit, but they found a hollow under a tree with enough room for the both of them, and well protected should a rainfall start. So far, the trip had been uneventful, with no rainfall or unseen monsters, and they hunted before it got dark.
As she stalked through the undergrowth, Quietback found himself watching Skypelt, unable to keep himself from admiring the way she moved, sleek and fast, silent on her paws. She was a good hunter, a good warrior, and he trusted her. He took a breath and shook his head, getting back to his hunting.
She caught a squirrel, he caught a bird, and they ate outside the hollow they had found, burying the remains of the prey when they were done. Then they settled in the hollow as it got dark, setting the conch aside, and curled up together. Skypelt's thicker fur, even crusted in mud and herbs, was much warmer than his shorter pelt, and Quietback breathed in her scent, eventually drifting off.
His dreams were troubled, to say the least. He dreamed of Ashtalon, fighting alongside him in the battles, big or minor, they had participated in together, particularly that almost-war with Weedclan, but... But it was all wrong. Ashtalon had been the one who had always saved him, but now his friend left him, leaving him to take blow after blow, and left him to bleed on the ground rather than dragging his sorry pelt back home, like he always had.
He woke in the morning, Skypelt still sleeping, and he took a deep breath, feeling shaken, and disentangled himself from the she-cat. He slipped from the hollow and sat at the entrance, drinking in the fresh, clean air, trying to push the memories and twisted dream from his mind.
Skypelt woke not long after, and came up beside him.
"Is something wrong, Quietback?" she asked, looking him over.
"Why did you want to bring Amberpaw?" Quietback asked, because he didn't want to talk about his dream.
"He'll be a warrior soon. He's already an excellent fighter. And you know, Quietback. You know he will be the best of us, the best cat in the clan. It's his destiny, and with the rogues... It tore my heart out, but it's a sign." Skypelt said, coiling her tail around her paws.
Quietback knew. Skypelt had told him moons ago, when Amberpaw had been a little kit, that Starclan, shortly before they had stopped communicating with them, had sent her a dream, a prophecy, about Amberpaw. She wouldn't tell him the specifics, saying it was hard to explain, and he wondered why she had not gone to Jackdawnduge, Plumsong, or Wasp about it.
Starclan had warned her to tell no one but cats she completely trusted with Amberpaw's destiny, and she was worried the medicine cats would tell Goldstar and Flintfur, as was their duty, and it would put too much pressure on the young cat. Quietback understood that and, as he thought of everything that had happened these past moons, he wondered if this was something to do with Amberpaw's destiny.
Maybe he was supposed to save them from this, and he was just too young right now.
"I know you are proud of him, Skypelt, but he still has training to do. Even if he's like Ashtalon more every day. I think it's a good thing he stayed. The youngest warriors and Tulippaw already don't like him because of how the clan fussed over him during his kittenhood. Let him try to fit in. He'll need his clanmates' support, not envy." Quietback said, lightly touching her side with his tail tip.
Skypelt sighed but said nothing, and once they were both properly awake, they caught breakfast. Then they continued on their way, Quietback carrying the conch, and it was nearing sun-high when they reached the Stone Tree.
Quietback had been a kit when he had last seen it, but it hadn't changed in all these moons. Tall and shaped like a straight tree trunk, it was made of white stone and had a tightly sealed entrance, along with a pebbled path leading down to a dirt track that vanished beyond the clans.
Right now, there was a monster sitting outside, and the clear stink of its scent, as well as that of a Twoleg.
There had been no one and nothing here last time, and yet now there were strange brown things sitting around, Quietback pulling up the word crate from the recesses of his memories.
They approached warily, but the monster was asleep, and there was no sign of the Twoleg, though it was likely inside the Stone Tree.
They approached slowly, cautiously, and looked up at the top, but the star wasn't shining right now.
As they cautiously explored, they found nothing of extreme interest, and Quietback was wondering if there was a way for them to gain access to the inside, though it had been sealed tightly last time.
"Hey there!" a voice called as he sniffed at the crates and he jumped, spinning and hissing.
Looking up, he saw a cat was perched on the crate above him, letting out a mrrow of laughter.
A she-cat, she had long, dark golden-brown fur and inquisitive eyes, which were glittering with amusement.
"I don't bite unless I have to. Why are you covered in that muck? Want me to get the Twoleg so he can clean you up?" she asked, lounging casually above him.
"I do not want the Twoleg!" Quietback exclaimed as Skypelt came running, looking ready to pounce on the she-cat.
"Who are you?" she demanded, eyes narrowed.
"Morbius. Who are you?"
"We're clan cats. We're from Hyacinthclan. My name is Quietback, and this is Skypelt." Quietback said, letting is fur lay flat.
This cat didn't seem to be any threat.
"Oh, I've heard rumors of the clans! Five groups of cats down the coast! Fancy seeing you here!" Morbius said, eyes widening.
"Why are you here? Are a kittypet?" Quietback asked and Morbius shook her head.
"I'm a mouser. I can go in and out as I please. I catch the mice, so I get water and a warm basket whenever I want, plus a little kibble if the mice are low. I used to live in a barn, never had much to do with Twolegs, but that one in there gave me kibble, put me in a box, and brought me here. I've been mousing here for about a moon." she explained, paw swinging back and forth.
"A moon?" Quietback echoed, surprised.
"Well, half a moon, more like, but a moon sounds better." Morbius said with a shrug.
"What is this place? Why is there a Twoleg here?" Skypelt cut in impatiently.
"This is a lighthouse. At night, the Twoleg turns on the light on the top. Not sure why, but I think it's because of the water? I dunno. Dunno why he's here either, but he's been setting up his glow-boxes since we got here, and they make weird noises and have different colors." Morbius said and Quietback blinked.
"Glow-boxes?" he said slowly.
"Yep! Come see!" Morbius said, leaping down to the ground.
She sauntered over to the entrance of the Stone Tree- lighthouse- and yowled so loudly that Quietback and Skypelt bolted, hiding. A moment later, the entrance opened and was left that way, a Twoleg meowing at Morbius, who accepted a scratch behind the ears.
Then the Twoleg was gone, and she looked over at them.
"Well? You want to see or not? He doesn't care. I can knock things off the tables and he just shakes his finger at me. He's as soft as a mouse." Morbius said and Quietback looked at Skypelt.
"I think it will be okay." he said and Skypelt hesitated, but then nodded.
They crept through the opening and the inside was better lit than Quietback had been anticipating, and filled with strange objects he had no names for.
He could hear the Twoleg moving around in a different part of the lighthouse, and Morbius lead them over to part that was not so brightly lit, not from the ice that covered the openings in the walls, at least. Long curtains of Twoleg material hung down and revealed a way down, underground, it seemed, and Quietback swallowed.
"All the glow-boxes are down here! Come on!" Morbius said, bounding down the series of stones leading downward.
"Come on." Skypelt said confidently, going forward.
Quietback forced his fur to lie flat and followed, matching her step for step, and the darkness didn't last long.
In the underground den, it was spacious and round, and there was odd, blue-tinted light down here. There was some other, warmer light, but it was mostly blue and cold, and Quietback could hear a soft hum as well.
Where the wash of blue came from were Twoleg-built structures holding what he assumed to be 'glow-boxes'. They were square and small, sort of like the crates outside, and they glowed, the light mostly blue but some showing other colors.
Morbius leapt onto the ledge from another structure and pointed her paw at them.
"He looks at them and makes noises, and they all go into the wall with those vines. He was very fussy about them, but I don't know why. He sits and plays with them for a long time. Or at least, he has so far." she explained and the two warriors approached to get a better look.
It really made no sense to Quietback, though he did see one glow-box had an image of the lighthouse on it, which confused him. He touched it and discovered it wasn't real, that it was blocked by some kind of ice like the windows, and Morbius explained that it wasn't real, that the Twoleg somehow had images of many, many things in the glow-boxes, though she didn't know how.
They were still looking at the glow-boxes, trying to understand, when they started letting out high-pitched noises and Quietback hissed, arching his back as Skypelt pricked her ears.
They heard the lighthouse entrance slam shut and the Twoleg yowled, pounding on the stone they had come down.
"Hide!" Quietback hissed, bundling Skypelt to the floor, and they darted under a thing that smelled like it must have been the Twoleg's nest.
They got under it just as the Twoleg appeared and he didn't even look at Morbius, who was staring at the glow-boxes, and then, shortly after the noises had ceased, they heard rain begin to fall.
Taking a breath, because he had to know, Quietback shot up the stones to above and Morbius and Skypelt followed him, and they leapt onto the ledge in front of the ice that showed outside.
Rain was falling and they were in luck, as vegetation was visible outside, and as they watched, it grew tall, then withered, crumpled, and grew again.
It was a rainfall, or a killfall, as Lester called it, and the Twoleg was running around in his burrow below, yowling and meowing Twoleg nonsense, and Quietback looked at Skypelt.
"Those Twoleg things sent off a signal about it." he meowed, shocked, looking back outside.
How did Twoleg have such a thing? Were they really so powerful they could make things that could sense the rainfalls? Did he have connection to Starclan somehow and they sent him warnings? What were the glow-boxes?
"He seems very interested in. I am too, but..." Morbius said and then shrugged.
"You can ask all the questions you want, but I don't have answers. I have some questions you might have answers to, though." she said and swept her gaze over them.
It was still raining outside, vegetation growing, dying, and growing again, the seeds taking over from what was left behind, and they were currently trapped in the lighthouse anyway.
"What?" Skypelt asked, looking out the ice.
"Why do you have that muck and the shell?" Morbius asked, cocking her head.
They sat and explained about the protection and the conchs, and what they knew about the rainfall and the unseen monsters.
The rainfall had let up by this point, but the Twoleg was still downstairs, and they asked about the 'star' on top of the lighthouse once they had told Morbius all that they could.
"Oh, it's just a Twoleg light. Nothing special. Like I said before." Morbius said with a shrug.
She had nothing useful to say to them, but she suggested they could come back once a moon or so, and she could tell them anything she might have learned about the rainfall from the Twoleg.
"We'll have to discuss it with our leader. It is a long journey for the possibility of no information." Skypelt said, making no promises, her eyes still scanning Morbius a little suspiciously.
"Is there another way out?" Quietback asked, as it was clear they would get no more answers, and they could think of no more questions to ask.
"No, but I can get him to open the door for you! He always opens it for me unless the glow-boxes yowl." Morbius said, trotting to the door.
Quietback and Skypelt quickly hid, just in case, as there was no telling what the Twoleg might do if he saw them. She yowled at it and it took a minute, but the Twoleg came and cracked the door open, speaking with a tone to Morbius as a parent might a kit.
Morbius purred and slid around the Twoleg's ankles, getting another scratch before he disappeared underground.
"Thank you." Quietback said, Skypelt just flicking her tail.
"Of course! Like I said, I'll try to get you what information I can, but I can't make any promises. Come when you can, and I'll always get the door open for you." Morbius said, and she walked them back to the path, the ground still wet from the rainfall.
"Bye, clan cats! Good luck, and safe travels!" she called when they were parting ways, and Quietback returned the farewell.
"What do you think?" he asked once they were out of hearing range.
"She seems friendly enough, but what can she really tell us from these glow-boxes that we haven't learned ourselves or won't learn. I don't think it would be worth trips in the future, especially with the journey and the possibility of a rainfall. We'll be lucky if our protection lasts the journey home." Skypelt replied, ears flicking.
"It is interesting that the Twoleg is here to look at it. And that the glow-boxes can sense the rainfall." Quietback commented and Skypelt nodded.
"Interesting, but not likely worth the risk. I'll be advising Goldstar against it." she said and Quietback had expected that she would.
He glanced over his shoulder, though, frowning, and he wondered if, in the future, Morbius and her Twoleg might actually be able to help Hyacinthclan.
For the time being, Goldstar and Flintfur agreed with Skypelt. It could be useful, seeing if Morbius could give them more information, but unless they could find a way for the cat or cats sent to carry the protection so they could reapply it, and carry it without it drying up, it was not worth the risk.
Quietback understood, but he couldn't help but think they were missing an opportunity to at least survive this better, if not try to figure it out.
They had arrived back in time for the medicine cats to be going off to their meeting, coated in fresh protection, and this time, only Wasp was staying behind. Despite Lester not exactly believing in Starclan and Starclan being cut off from them, she still needed the training.
Quietback cleaned the rest of the protection off himself and licked his slightly sore pads, relaxing in the clearing, and Amberpaw came trotting by with Yellowpaw on his tail, both apprentices carrying prey.
As he set it down and turned away, Quietback caught a glimpse of a thin scar on Amberpaw's face, just above his right eye, and though it was thin, it was long.
It was very similar to the near-hidden scar on his throat, actually, in color and fading, and he certainly had had it when they had left.
Had the young cat suffered another fatal injury that hadn't killed him?
Amberpaw noticed Quietback staring and hunched his shoulders, turning away quickly, lowering his head to listen to what Yellowpaw was saying to him.
That was confirmation enough to Quietback and he would not ask about it, but as he watched his friends' son, Quietback could not help but think that Skypelt was right.
Starclan certainly had a lot in store for this young cat, and he might just be what saved them after all.
So much had changed in the clan in the past few moons, and it wasn't just the addition of Lester and her kits, or the rainfalls and monsters.
The clan itself had changed. Tumbledaisy now spent most of the night sitting guard to scent a rainfall before it could hit the camp. They had to cover themselves in the protective mixture each time they left the camp. No patrol left without a conch horn, or a sling fashioned from found Two-leg materials. Prey was being found from time to time with the mysterious black substance leaking from its eyes, and no one knew what it was or why it was happening. Just that it was.
The world had become so strange in just a pawful of moons and Amberpaw accepted it, though he didn't necessarily like it.
He trotted behind Flintfur, Skypelt, and Quietback, Civetbeak still recovering from his wound in the medicine cat den, keeping an eye out for any prey.
It was a border patrol, but feeding the clan and having a good stock, especially with the weirdness of the prey lately.
"Amber, stop dallying." Skypelt said and Amberpaw picked up his pace.
He had only been lingering at the back because he knew what Skypelt would do. She would talk to him and touch him and he loved her, but he didn't want that. But he obeyed and fell into step beside her, realizing how big he was getting right then.
He wasn't even twelve moons yet, but he was definitely bigger than the other apprentices had been at his age, and he suddenly felt self-conscious about it.
"Are you all right, little one?" Skypelt asked, brushing her tail over his flank.
"Fine." Amberpaw replied, shying away.
"You're getting so big. You look so much like Ashtalon, too." Skypelt said, looking him over, as if their thoughts had connected for a minute.
"No, I don't. Flintfur says he was darker than I am, and was a tabby." Amberpaw said, and he really didn't want to talk about his parents.
He couldn't remember them, after all, and though it was silly, he felt resentment at them for not being here with them. He missed Firkit and Shrewkit, too, but the bitterness was different. Copsespots hadn't died on purpose- death during kitting happened- but Ashtalon... He hadn't had to go out that day. He hadn't had to go out and meet those rogues. And that was a great source of bitterness for Amberpaw, even if he felt guilty for it.
"I can see him in you. More him than Copsespots." Skypelt told him and Amberpaw wanted to sigh.
Skypelt began talking to him about his training and everything else and Amberpaw listened, answering her questions, noticing Quietback glancing back at them from time to time with an unreadable expression on his face.
As they approached the borders with Weedclan and Foggyclan, pawsteps pounded, and Lester suddenly burst from the brush, blood staining the mixture on her pelt.
"Lester! What happened?" Flintfur exclaimed, stopping the slim she-cat.
"Those dang Weedclan cats! I was walkin' along, minding my own business and checking the herbs on our side of the border, but one of them got all bent out of shape and clawed my ears!" Lester hissed, tail lashing furiously.
"They crossed the border?" Quietback asked, eyes widening.
"One of 'em. Some big brute who must have mud between his ears! I didn't do nothing, Flintfur, I swear!" Lester said, her conch and sling bouncing against her heaving flanks.
"I believe you, Lester. Go back to camp, and we'll deal with this." Flintfur ordered, eyes lingering on the blood streaming from Lester's ear.
Lester nodded and for a moment Amberpaw thought he was going to be sent back as well, but he was not.
"No one attack until I give an order." Flintfur ordered the patrol, and they all nodded.
They reached the Weedclan border and found two cats there, one a huge ginger tabby and the other an apprentice who looked almost like a kit beside him. They were very purposefully marking the border and Amberpaw was surprised they were still here, in all honesty. And even more surprised they didn't have any protection on.
"Hello, Hollowclaw." Flintfur said coolly and the huge warrior swung toward him.
"You got some nerve, Hyacinthclan. Crossing our border and eating our prey, leaving the bones for us to find, and then coming to take our herbs." Hollowclaw growled, fluffing up his fur.
"None of our warriors have done such a thing. And Lester was on our side of the border."
"That loner joined you?"
"Yes. She is our medicine cat, and therefore deserves your respect. Straying over the border to attack one of our cats is quite the offense. Should I take this to Runningstar?" Flintfur asked, eyes narrowed.
"Why do you think we did it?" Amberpaw blurted out, offended.
Skypelt slapped her tail over his mouth.
"Every cat knows that Hyacinthclan's scent has changed because of that disgusting stuff you wear on your pelts now. We found a strange scent around the prey, close to our border with you. It wasn't Foggyclan and it definitely wasn't Kinkclan or Ferretclan." Hollowclaw growled and Quietback stood pointedly beside Flintfur.
"We have ample territory and prey to go with it. We have no need to cross your border or steal your prey or herbs, Hollowclaw." Flintfur said pointedly.
Amberpaw locked eyes with the other apprentice, but they were shaking like a leaf, and he was willing to bet they were only six moons old.
"Liars." Hollowclaw hissed and Skypelt hissed back.
"Well, if that is how it's going to be, I'll be sending Wiggity Wacks and a warrior to discuss things with Runningstar and your mediators." Flintfur said and Hollowclaw bared his teeth.
Flintfur began to mark the border and Amberpaw followed suit, Quietback and Skypelt waiting. Hollowclaw growled, but he beckoned the apprentice and stormed off into Weedclan territory, Skypelt lashing her tail once they had gone.
"How dare they! Accuse of prey-stealing when we have so few cats compared to the other clans and boast one of the richest territories." she spat, the smell of her anger sharp in Amberpaw's nose.
"Hollowclaw is always looking for trouble, Skypelt, and you know it. If it wasn't us, then it must have been rogues, which mean we have a problem on our paws." Flintfur said levelly, brushing his tail against her side.
Skypelt huffed and took a breath, and Quietback glanced around.
"We should look to see if we can find any signs of them; if they're close to our border they may have been wandering our territory." he said and Flintfur nodded.
The patrol continued, carefully marking their borders and checking for any strange scents or tracks, and Amberpaw did feel a little excited. He had never gotten to do anything like this before, and it felt like a sign that he was definitely growing up, making his way toward being a warrior.
They found fresh scents soon enough and the fresh remains of prey, and then-
"Well, well, if it isn't some clan cats." a voice said and a band of cats slid from the brush, five in all.
Skypelt immediately shoved herself in front of Amberpaw and he staggered, Quietback and Flintfur assuming battle positions.
"You're on clan territory. If you leave now, we will not harm you." Flintfur said, his claws out, his voice a deep command.
"Now, why would do that? You come here moons ago and take a good chunk of land that didn't belong to anyone, and now that all this shit is happening, you clan cats are hoarding everything. Territory, prey, herbs, shelter, knowledge..." the leader, a huge scarred she-cat, said, sauntering in front of them.
"We are happy to share knowledge about what has been happening to you, but we can not condone thieving." Flintfur said and Amberpaw admired his calmness, even if his tone was as sharp as a claw.
"I really don't think it should be considered thieving when you were the thieves first." the she-cat hissed, and suddenly there were no more words, no more anything.
The rogues just attacked and Amberpaw watched as the warriors began to fight, his battle training running through his head. He had never even fought a border skirmish before, though he had trained hard with Civetbeak, Flintfur, Skypelt, and the other apprentices.
But he wasn't going to let Skypelt put herself in danger for him like this; he was ten moons old now, and he could fight. He knew how. He wasn't going to cower while his clanmates were in danger, because he was training to be a warrior, and this was what warriors did, after all.
Amberpaw had always thought he might be afraid when it came to his first battle. He wasn't.
No, he moved exactly how he had trained and drawing blood from the warrior who was swiping at him, his claws tearing through the fur and into the flesh below.
The she-cat looked shocked by the blood welling over her face and Amberpaw hissed, doing everything he had been taught.
It was a rush of fur, claws, and teeth all around him and he had no time to check his clanmates or anything else, focusing only on the cat attacking him. A blow opened a wound on his shoulder and he hissed, twisting to the side and launching himself up into the air as his opponent struggled to keep up with him.
He landed on her shoulders and knocked her to the ground, rolling her to the forest floor, and they began to wrestle, teeth snapping at each other, claws raking and drawing blood, Amberpaw's breath being repeatedly knocked out of him.
He didn't stop or give up, even as wounds stung across his body, and he gave as good as he got. He didn't fight to kill, though he could have if he needed to. He didn't. That wasn't how clan cats fought, even if these cats were doing that, and that wasn't how his father had done it either.
And maybe Amberpaw resented the comparison and couldn't really remember the cat that was his father, but he did find that was something he wanted to live up to.
He kicked the she-cat off and swiped at her soft underbelly when she reared above him, drawing deep red lines that stained her unprotected fur. She screeched and scrambled back, and Amberpaw was able to send her fleeing.
They were no longer outnumbered, but that didn't matter; the big she-cat was lunging for Skypelt, who was engaged in battle with another and had her back exposed.
"SKYPELT!" Amberpaw yowled and launched himself forward.
He skidded through the leaves between them, about to swipe with all his might, and that was when a vicious blow slammed into his throat.
The pain was nothing like Amberpaw had ever felt... Or was it...? He didn't know and he didn't think, just felt the hot gush from his neck, felt the protection on his fur soaking through in a weird way, and he swayed.
Everything was sharp and loud and bright and he stared at the she-cat, who stared at him in shock too, and Amberpaw collapsed.
He felt the terror as he remembered Starclan had either abandoned them or been cut off for them before the black folded over him, and that he might become a monster.
And then... There was no starry cat for Amberpaw. No starry territory either. But there was no dark forest filled with mud and fog either.
No, Amberpaw was... Underwater. He wasn't drowning and he wasn't sure if he was breathing, exactly, but he wasn't dying. Huge fish and what he guessed to be whales (he had never actually seen a whale except for very far away) swam through the clear blue water and he could see sand below, sky and light shining through from above, and there was also... A cat.
Him.
It was his body floating above him and, instinctively, Amberpaw clawed his way toward it, reaching, stretching, and- Before he touched his body, he saw... Something. He couldn't tell if it was in the water or floating above, but he saw a cat shape surrounded by... Things...
And then his paw touched his paw and Amberpaw was spiraling through a tunnel he couldn't describe, blood rushing around him, and then-
He sat up with a choking gasp, spewing out blood, and Skypelt screamed.
She leapt back with a yowl, fur fluffed up, and stared at him, and Amberpaw stared at her woozily.
"A-Amber-"
"What... What happened?" Amberpaw said, though the ocean was still in his mind, and seeing his body.
Quietback and Flintfur were staring at him as well, all three warriors staring at him in shock, mouths moving, fur fluffed, injuries weeping blood as they stared.
"You... Amberpaw, you were dead. Your throat was torn out." Flintfur said slowly and approached him.
He nosed the fur around Amberpaw's throat, clotted with blood and protection, but... Only a dark scar remained beneath, easily hidden by the fu.
He stared and stared and Amberpaw curled in on himself, dizzy, disoriented, and then Skypelt was on him. He whimpered in protest and she curled around him, licking at his pelt despite the muck.
"Oh, my precious kit. Oh, I had thought I had lost you. But I knew. I knew." she whispered and her words were strange, but Amberpaw hardly registered them.
"How am I alive?" he whispered.
"It must be Starclan's doing." Quietback said and shook himself.
"They're gone and they won't come back if they know what is good for them, but we need to return to camp." Flintfur said, gathering himself together.
Amberpaw had to lean on Skypelt for most of the walk back to camp, and then he was back in the medicine cats' den, all four tending to the patrol, Goldstar, Yellowlily, and Aphidrise soon joining them.
Flintfur recounted what had happened and everyone stared at Amberpaw as Jackdawnudge examined him, using soaked moss to clean away the blood and protection.
"You should be dead. But you're not." he said gruffly, eyes narrowed.
"Did you see anything? Can you describe it?" Plumsong asked as he spread poultice on Skypelt's leg.
Amberpaw did, very conscious of everyone watching him and listening, and all the medicine cats exchanged looks.
"That don't sound something Starclan, no?" Lester said, looking at her fellow medicine cats.
"It's not." Plumsong confirmed and Amberpaw wanted to shrink into the moss and disappear.
Was he some kind of freak? Was he a monster like that queen and her kits and the thing that had attacked Lester?
"Starclan is cut off from us. Maybe... Maybe it is possible that a soul can find their way back to their body, like a leader losing their lives, in the right circumstances. Perhaps that is what happened to Amberpaw." Jackdawnudge said and this drew up new questions.
Why had no other cat (that they knew of) done this? How was it possible? Were souls really not getting into Starclan?
There were debates that it was maybe Starclan's doing, that Amberpaw had seen the waters of the Beach of Stars, but the sand had been white. Amberpaw didn't say that, however.
He listened as Plumsong and Wasp decided to journey to the Five Oakes and things were discussed, and he winced as pain pulsed in his belly.
"Amberpaw?" Jackdawnudge asked, noticing.
"My belly..." Amberpaw said, rolling to expose it.
The stark scar there was plain to see and he couldn't remember how he had gotten it; he had had it ever since he had been a kit. Skypelt said it had come from the day he had snuck out of camp.
Jackdawnudge began to press and examine him, sniffing too, but there was nothing to find and he shook his head.
"It must just be a phantom pain. I'll give you a poppy seed, just in case." he said, and Amberpaw was quite sore.
His wounds ached and so did his neck even though that wasn't really a wound anymore, even though it was healed somehow.
Skypelt sniffed him worriedly, her eyes filled with emotions Amberpaw couldn't describe. She licked his ears again and he flattened himself, flattening his ears.
"Let me clean you the rest of the way." she muttered and he really had no choice.
She cleaned the protection from his pelt and groomed him so he wouldn't cold, and Amberpaw was shaking and felt sick by the time she finished.
"Goldstar..." he asked, seeing the leader was still here.
"Was it like that when you lost a life?" he asked quietly, worriedly.
"No, it was not. But you were not given lives by Starclan, little one, so even if they did bless you, it would be different." Goldstar said, her tone reassuring.
Amberpaw was certain she was just trying to make him feel better and Jackdawnudge and Lester soon shooed everyone else out of the den, save for Quietback, who had been the worst hurt aside from Amberpaw.
"Eat this." Jackdawnudge said, holding out a paw, which had a poppy seed stuck to the pad.
"I don't want it." Amberpaw muttered.
"You'll take your medicine, or I'll force you to." Jackdawnudge said severely.
Amberpaw reluctantly obeyed and sighed, Jackdawnudge starting to leave, and then he stopped.
"Amberpaw?"
"Yes?"
"Did you see anything... Strange? Before what happened? Or in the sea?" he asked and the tone of his voice was strange.
Amberpaw didn't notice, but Quietback had stiffened in his nest, still and listening, and Amberpaw thought to tell Jackdawnudge of the thing he had seen.
But he couldn't find the words and he was afraid of it, of what it might mean, of what the medicine cat think it meant.
"No." he said and Jackdawnudge nodded, looking troubled.
Amberpaw settled down, feeling disoriented, failing to notice Quietback watching him, mouth opening several times, before, finally, the warrior turned away.
This is the first Turtletooth has been caught in any interaction with outsiders that was not recruitment. While he has been neutral, many are starting to suspect he is on the side against the other Clans.
Another mated pair!
Tensions are still high after Patchoulipaw's death, and Whisperpaw blames Patchoulipaw's former mentor for it.
