Aug 9, 2025
Behold, the fabled height chart. So far I've only drawn the founders but I hope to draw every important character if/when I have the time.
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Behold, the fabled height chart. So far I've only drawn the founders but I hope to draw every important character if/when I have the time.
Month 21 - Leaffall
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“You’re hiding something from me,” Fogpaw stated as she and Scorchplume came back from their evening stealth training session.
Her mentor looked over her shoulder and cocked a brow skeptically. “Oh, really? Whatever gave you that impression?”
“Well, first off,” said Fogpaw, “You’ve been weirdly quiet all day and, secondly, you’re talking extra fancy which means you’re putting effort into how you talk which probably means you’re being careful about what you say.”
Scorchplume laughed and said, “I’ve taught you too well.”
“So what are you hiding?” Fogpaw cried, jumping to come shoulder to shoulder with her.
“Nothing,” Scorchplume said with a dismissive wave of her tail.
“Nuh-uh!” Fogpaw insisted. “You just admitted you were being careful about what you say!”
“No I didn’t,” said Scorchplume in her performatively offended voice. “Those words never came out of my mouth.”
“But-! You basically said that!”
“Did not.”
“What are you hiding!?” Fogpaw groaned. She could tell that Scorchplume was being deliberately obtuse to avoid answering her question. Determined to get answers, she decided to start throwing out explanations and seeing what got the biggest reaction out of Scorch.
“Is it… bad news?”
“Mm.” Scorch didn’t even glance at her. It probably wasn’t that.
“Okay, it’s good news,” nodded Fogpaw.
“Who said that?”
Fogpaw growled in playful annoyance but otherwise ignored the comment. “Okay, good news, good news… Are you pregnant?”
Scorchplume spluttered and stopped walking immediately. “B-gh-What?!”
Fogpaw was startled by the intensity of her reaction. “Well, you’re mates with Yarrowshade now, I thought maybe-”
“First of all,” blustered Scorch, “we are not mates-” (“Oh, okay.”) “-and second of all, I can’t have kittens. I’ve been caught by the twolegs, remember?”
“Oh, yeahhh,” Fogpaw frowned. “Okay, so it’s not that.”
“It’s not anything, Fogpaw,” insisted Scorch, resuming the walk back to camp. “You should really just drop it.”
“But it’s clearly something or you wouldn’t be trying so hard to make me drop it.”
“Fine,” Scorch gave in, and for a split second Fogpaw’s stomach fluttered in triumph, “think what you want! But I’m telling you, there’s nothing important going on today.”
“Wait, so it’s an event?” Fogpaw gasped and Scorch laughed and rolled her eyes.
“You’re reading too much into things,” she said.
Just then, they crested the hill into camp and Goldenstar’s voice called out, “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Stoneperch for a Clan meeting!”
Fogpaw gasped again and her eyes snapped towards the Stoneperch where Goldenstar was smiling at them. Beneath it sat Slatepaw, her fur brushed up in excitement, and Fogpaw realized very suddenly what Scorch had been hiding. She looked back at her mentor and found a smug grin across her face.
“Well, we certainly don’t want to miss that, now do we?” she said.
“Oh my stars,” Fogpaw shouted, “I can’t believe it!”
“Volume,” winced Scorch and Fogpaw blushed shyly.
“Whoops. Sorry.”
“Fogpaw, come on!” called Slatepaw. Scorch gave her a shoulder shove and sent Fogpaw scrambling down to sit with her sister in the front of the crowd. A few of the cats gathering around chuckled and she couldn’t tell if they were laughing at her but she chose to believe they weren’t. These were her Clanmates, her friends. They wouldn’t do that.
“Can you believe it?” she asked Slatepaw.
“I know, right?” grinned her sister. “We’re going to be warriors!”
“Yeah,” Fogpaw’s smile fell a little bit. She had been thinking about that lately, about what she wanted to be in life, and she had been planning for this moment. She hoped that Slatepaw wouldn’t be upset by what she was going to do.
She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, however, as Goldenstar began the ceremony proper.
“Well, I think we all know why we’re gathered here today,” she said, smiling down at the apprentices. “Slatepaw and Fogpaw have trained long and hard and their mentors have both reported that they are more than ready to receive their warrior names.”
Behind them, trying to be quiet but not going unnoticed, someone said, “Careful, careful. You alright?”
“I’m fine,” grunted a voice that Fogpaw instantly recognized as Ghost’s. She whipped around to see Jagg guiding him down the slope into camp. He winced with every step, leaning heavily on her shoulder as they walked.
“Dad!” Fogpaw beamed, her tail shooting up to greet him and he gave a pained smile and nod.
“Focus,” whispered Slatepaw self-consciously, looking sidelong at her as she stayed focused on Goldenstar. Fogpaw laughed nervously and turned to sit upright like her sister. She would have to say hello to Ghost later.
Goldenstar, at least, didn’t seem upset and continued without issue. “Today, we honor you both and how far you’ve come. I, Goldenstar, leader of RisingClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these two resilient apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn.”
She hopped down from the Stoneperch to join them in front of the crowd, her head raised nobly, and said, “Fogpaw, Slatepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”
“I do,” they both said, exchanging an excited glance.
“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Slatepaw, from this moment on, you shall be known as Slateheart. StarClan honors your kindness and devotion to your Clan and we welcome you as a full warrior.”
Goldenstar stepped forward and rested her chin on Slateheart’s head and Slateheart licked her shoulder as the warriors cheered her name. Fogpaw joined them, hoping to cheer the loudest of all. Slateheart blushed and preened under the praise as she stood back, tail swishing demurely over her paws. Fogpaw opened her mouth to congratulate her sister but Goldenstar turned to face her and continued the ceremony.
“Fogpaw,” she said, “from this moment on, you shall be known as Fogstalker. StarClan honors your bravery and conviction and we welcome you as a full warrior of RisingClan.” Purring, she dipped to lick Goldenstar’s shoulder and the crowd cheered again. Floodstrike in particular calling out her new name with enthusiasm.
Fogstalker turned in a circle to see the crowd’s faces, to smile at her Clanmates. Scorchplume had a warm smile on her face that made her heart soar. Floodstrike, Barleybee, and Sparrowsway were all sitting side by side and Floodstrike grinned toothily as she looked at him. Near the back of the crowd, she could see Jagg and Ghost sitting together and Ghost was even smiling a little, although it looked almost like he was wincing.
She turned to smile at Slateheart and her sister smiled back and that was when she realized that someone very important was missing. She looked at an empty space near the front of the crowd and tried to imagine her mother sitting there and smiling too but she couldn’t get the shapes to stay in place or look right.
What did her mom look like again? Surely her face wasn’t exactly like Slatehearts, right? She frowned slightly and Slateheart seemed to realize what she was thinking, laying her tail over Fogstalker’s flank quietly.
“Well!” Goldenstar’s voice pulled their attention back up to the front, “I know you just got back from training so why don’t you both get something to eat, take a bit of time to talk with your loved ones, and then you’ll start your silent vigil.”
“Wait,” Fogstalker blurted. Goldenstar blinked in surprise.
“Fogpaw!” Slateheart hissed quietly, only catching herself after she had said it.
Fogstalker wasn’t deterred. “Goldenstar, I’ve been thinking and…” She glanced back over her shoulder at Scorchplume whose brow was furrowed uneasily. “I think I want to be a mediator. Like my mom.” The words felt right as she said them and she nodded confidently as she turned back to face Goldenstar.
“You’re sure?” Goldenstar asked. “You don’t have to make that decision now, you know.”
“I know,” Fogstalker nodded, standing straighter. “I’m sure. I want to help people like she did. I want to be a mediator.”
“Well, in that case,” said the leader, straightening her own posture, “Fogstalker, you have chosen to take up the duties of a mediator. Do you swear to stand apart from the rivalry between Clans and cats and to strive to resolve disputes peacefully, even at the cost of your life?”
Fogstalker took a deep breath and nodded. “I do.” The air was scintillating with magic and she could feel it prickling through her pelt.
“Then by the powers of StarClan,” said Goldenstar, “I place this responsibility on your shoulders and welcome you as a mediator of RisingClan.”
There was more cheering. Fogstalker couldn’t help but feel like this round of cheers was quieter. She looked around to find Scorchplume and Russetfrond both silent. Even Floodstrike was more subdued this time around. To her dismay, she realized that Slateheart wasn’t cheering either. She met her sister’s gaze in confusion and Slateheart looked away.
“With that, our meeting is adjourned,” said Goldenstar to the crowd. “You two get something to eat, I’ll come grab you when it’s time for your vigil.”
“Goldenstar,” Russetfrond grunted, stepping forward. “A word?”
Goldenstar sighed slightly but nodded, beckoning him towards her den with a curl of her tail. As they left, the crowd moved to congratulate the sisters but Fogstalker couldn’t help but lean in to Slateheart.
“Hey,” she whispered, “what’s wrong? Why weren’t you cheering for me? Are you angry?”
“No,” Slateheart whispered back. “I mean… why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know,” Fogstalker shrugged, “I didn’t tell anybody, I was just thinking it.”
“But we’re sisters,” said Slateheart, turning to study her face. “You should have-”
“Congrats you cuties!” Ospreymask interrupted cheerily, butting her head up against Fogstalker’s shoulder, causing her to bristle in surprise. “Your warrior names are so beautiful! I love them!”
“Thank you,” demurred Slateheart, leaning in to touch noses with the pregnant warrior.
“Yeah…” Fogstalker hummed distractedly. She wasn’t done talking with Slateheart but, already, more people were swarming closer to try and get their attention, pulling them in different directions.
“Wow, a mediator!” Songdust said, “Your mother would be so proud, kiddo.”
“Yeah?” Fogstalker smiled a little as she turned to face the elder.
“Yeah,” nodded Songdust. “You’re gonna do amazing.”
Floodstrike stepped in to lay his tail over Fogstalker’s back. “You did it, Foggy. You managed to get a half decent warrior name.”
“Half decent!?” she exclaimed. “My name rules!”
“Agree to disagree,” Floodstrike said, winking to assure her it was a joke. She laughed and rubbed up against his chin.
“You two should hurry up and eat,” she heard Sparrowsway saying.
“Oh, right,” blushed Slateheart. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“Maybe we can share with dad!” Fogstalker gasped, turning to try and locate him through the crowd.
“I’ll grab you something,” said Barleybee, “go get settled.”
Fogstalker didn’t need to be told twice. She slipped through the crowd, smiling and nodding as people gave her passing congratulations, and eventually broke away from the throng and bounded the last few tail lengths to meet him.
“Dad!” she purred, moving to rub her cheeks against his “I’m so glad you came! How did you know it was happening?”
Ghost stiffened under her touch but managed to reciprocate after a moment. “Uh, Scorch told us to come.”
“Really?” Fogstalker’s chest swelled with excitement. “That’s amazing!”
“We wanted to be here for your big day,” Jagg smiled. “Congratulations, Fogstalker, a new name is a huge honor.”
Slateheart padded up to join them then, smiling softly. “Thanks for coming, dad.”
“Yeah,” Ghost cleared his throat awkwardly and shifted his weight with a wince. “Happy to be here.”
“You’re wincing a lot today,” Fogstalker observed. “Are you feeling alright?”
“He just has a bit of arthritis,” explained Jagg. “He’ll be okay.”
Slateheart frowned. “Oh, we-”
“We can have Oddstripe give you some herbs for that!” offered Fogstalker brightly. Slateheart lashed her tail once, gaze sinking.
“Thank you,” Jagg said, “both of you.” That made Slateheart smile a little and Fogstalker gave her a friendly nudge.
Shortly after, Barleybee brought some prey across camp for them to share. Fogstalker enjoyed the conversation and the food but it was hard not to think about how Slateheart was upset with her. As Ghost and Jagg bid them farewell, sent home with some juniper berries for his joints, and the Clan dispersed for the night, she approached her sister and tried again.
“Hey, can we talk about earlier?” she asked.
“We have to start our silent vigil,” Slateheart said evasively.
“Right, but we have a second before-”
“Fogstalker, it’s fine,” she said firmly, as if that ended the conversation. “Can we just forget it?”
Fogstalker frowned. “I… I guess, but-”
“Alright, girls,” Goldenstar said as she approached. “Are you ready for your vigil?”
“Yes,” said Slateheart and Fogstalker’s heart sank.
“Yeah, I guess,” she shrugged.
“Alright,” smiled Goldenstar, although she seemed a bit concerned. “You’ll have to stay silent until the sun touches the Stoneperch, or in the case of emergency. Got it?”
“Got it,” they both said.
“Good luck,” said Goldenstar. “Your vigil starts now.” She turned and headed back to her den and Fogstalker’s vision was drawn to where Scorchplume was waiting for her. She tilted her head curiously at her mentor as if to say, ‘why weren’t you cheering?’ and Scorch offered her a smile that was hard to read before slipping into the den.
Fogstalker sighed and began to pace in a wide circle around camp.
UPDATES: - Fogpaw and Slatepaw graduate to warriors, taking the names Fogstalker and Slateheart respectively. - Fogstalker requests to become a mediator.
Month 20 - Leaffall
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When the fighting was finally over, Goldenstar found herself staring up at the body of Sardine.
Eventually, the opposing forces had been so outnumbered that the Chaff had started surrendering and the Exalted left had mostly followed suit. Despite that, the stench of death hung heavy in the confines of the barn. A headcount went up and the casualties were confirmed; two of Rudy’s gang, no Clan cats. Boldmoth’s leg had been terribly mangled and she’d been pulled out to see the healers but everyone else was going to be alright.
It was a relief, one she should have been celebrating, and yet somehow she found herself fixated on Sardine’s corpse, suspended above their heads and dripping blood. Her whiskers twitched as someone came up beside her and she turned to see Russetfrond scowling up at the body as well.
“What a terrible way to die,” he said, voicing her thoughts.
“No kidding.” She swallowed, eyes drifting back upward. “I think that was harder to watch than Razor’s death. The way he was screaming…” She shuddered and let out a slow breath between her teeth.
Russetfrond leaned in to press his bloodied flank against hers. “But we did it. It’s over now.”
“I guess it is,” she said in disbelief. “Thank StarClan. I’m so sick of war.” She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder and he grunted which meant he agreed but didn’t want to say so.
“Well fought,” Rudy’s voice pulled her back to attention as he approached. “I have to admit, it was a lot easier with you lot around.”
“We were happy to uphold our end of the agreement,” she said, subtly reminding him of his own half. “Now the city is free from tyranny and our peoples can be at peace.”
“Mm,” Rudy seemed unimpressed but didn’t disagree. “We’re going to go back and spread the news. You wanna come?”
“I’m honored,” she said, “but I think we’ll have to pass. The paths of your city are still strange and confusing to us.”
Rudy laughed and said, “Right. Well, we’ll see you, then. Don’t get any ideas about encroaching on our territories though, we’re allies, not buddies.”
“Understood,” Goldenstar said seriously. Russetfrond grunted as well.
With that, Rudy turned and said, “Alright, boys, let’s head out! Take the bodies to be buried but leave Sardine for the Folk.” A rowdy cheer of agreement went up from his supporters and soon they had vacated the barn with their prisoners.
“We should go too,” said Orangestar, crossing the barn towards her.
“Agreed,” Goldenstar nodded, raising her tail and her voice, “Let’s head back to the Cornerstones to celebrate before the twolegs can find us.”
“Here, here!” cheered Snowstar, her fur a streaky pink mess. “Prey is on SkyClan tonight. I’ll send Fernspeckle and Robinswoop to fetch something for everybody.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Orangestar said, eyes wide at the offer.
“I want to,” Snowstar said. “We fought hard. We deserve a fitting celebration.” There were several cheers among the crowd. Goldenstar swallowed, unable to fully agree with Sardine still hanging above her like an omen of death. She turned and headed for the door with Orangestar and Russetfrond close on either side.
“If it’s alright with y’all,” Wes said, stepping out of the crowd with a polite dip of his head, “I’d love t’join you in the celebration. I could even bring somethin’ as a thank you for the invitation.” His smile was so earnest that Goldenstar couldn’t bear to turn him down.
“I suppose that’s alright,” she said, glancing at her friends. “We won’t have any interest in kittypet food, though.” Russetfrond grunted in firm agreement.
“Not food then,” Wes nodded. “I could bring toys? Or catnip perhaps.”
“Catnip?” Orangestar’s brows shot upward. “Like, the herb?!”
“Yeah,” Wes nodded. “I think my friend Fawn has a patch in her garden. I don’t care much for the stuff but I know lots of cats use it when they’re lookin’ for a good time.”
“Recreationally?” Goldenstar stared in confusion. “You don’t need it for coughs?”
“For coughs?” Wes frowned, seemingly daunted by their reactions. “Nah, we’ve got our Folk for that. ‘Sides, there’s plenty to go around.”
Goldenstar couldn’t believe her ears. “Um, yeah, sure,” she laughed. “Why not?” Russetfrond scowled but didn’t protest.
“Great,” Wes smiled in relief. “Is it alright if I invite Fawn as well? I’d hate t’take her catnip and run.”
“Yeah, of course,” nodded Goldenstar. “If she’s a friend of yours, she’s a friend of mine.”
“Sounds good,” said Wes with a polite little dip of his head to each of them. “Where’s this ‘Cornerstones’ at?” Goldenstar paused, unsure how to explain, but Songdust inserted herself into the conversation and came to her rescue.
“I’ll show him the way,” she said.
“Thanks,” nodded Goldenstar. “Stay safe.”
“Will do,” said Songdust.
“I’ll make sure nothin’ happens to her, Miss Goldenstar,” Wes said seriously.
Goldenstar laughed and shared an amused glance with Orangestar. “I know. We’ll see you there.” Songdust nodded and flicked her tail against Wes’s leg and together they headed off towards the city.
Russetfrond growled uneasily. “I don’t like it. We shouldn’t be showing kittypets to the Cornerstones.”
“It’ll be fine,” Goldenstar said, bumping reassuringly against him. “And besides, if there really is enough catmint to go around, we can keep some for our herb stores. Just imagine! Fully stocked catmint for leafbare!”
“Maybe we can trade for some every leafbare!” Orangestar purred in excitement. “Think of how many lives we could save!”
Russetfrond grumbled in reluctant agreement. “I guess this Wes cat seems trustworthy enough.”
“He is,” Goldenstar nodded. Then, knowing a task would put him more at ease, she said, “Could you make sure everyone gets to Cornerstones safely? I don’t want anyone getting left behind.”
“‘Course,” he grunted with a serious nod.
“Thanks,” she purred, butting up against his shoulder. “I’m gonna stop at camp and meet you all at the Cornerstones.”
“Sounds good,” Orangestar nodded. “StarClan light your path!”
“You too,” grinned Goldenstar and then she took off trotting through the grass towards home. The chilly night seemed lighter than before, the wind gentler. As she neared the camp, she ran into Barleybee and Sparrowsway who were strolling home with tails intertwined.
She kicked up her pace to close the distance with them and called out, “You two not going to the festivities?”
Barleybee smiled with embarrassment as they both turned to face her, saying, “Not tonight. It honestly just sounds tiring.”
“As long as you’re sure,” Goldenstar said, looking them over. Barleybee was missing several of her cardinal feathers and Sparrowsway had a slight limp on his left side but neither one was particularly injured, which was a relief. Her mind made a few quick jumps from that thought to the next and she added, “How’s Floodstrike doing?”
The siblings exchanged a worried glance.
“I’m not sure,” said Sparrowsway grimly. “He’s still all worked up.”
“I told him revenge wouldn’t make him feel any better,” Barleybee sighed, her frown deepening.
“Yeah, but you know he doesn’t listen,” said Sparrowsway. Barleybee chewed her lip, gaze drifting into the middle distance.
“I’ll have to check in with him,” hummed Goldenstar. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Of course, Goldenstar,” Sparrowsway said with a slight smile. “Have fun at the Cornerstones tonight.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will,” she said, realizing they didn’t know the news. “Wes says he’s going to bring enough catmint for everyone to use some.”
“What?” Sparrowsway’s brow furrowed at the absurdity of the statement. “Like, just for fun?”
“Mhm,” she grinned. “Apparently the kittypets are practically swimming in the stuff.”
“Weird,” Barleybee laughed, rolling her shoulders as if an uncomfortable prickle had run down her spine. “Kittypets are so strange.”
At this point, they had reached the crest of the hill and descended into camp together. Pantherhaze, Oddstripe, and Alderrtail sat together in the entrance to the nursery, sharing tongues while Slatepaw and the kittens slept within. When Oddstripe spotted them, he perked his ears and leapt up to meet them, eyes wide.
“Is everyone alright?” he asked, looking his kits up and down. “Do they need me at the barn?”
“Everyone’s fine,” Goldenstar assured him. “No casualties and only one serious injury in EarthClan. We’re going to the Cornerstones to celebrate if you’d like to come.”
“The kittypets are bringing a bunch of catmint,” Barleybee whispered in amazement.
“They are?” Just behind Oddstripe, Aldertail brightened. “Just for anybody to use?”
“Apparently,” Goldenstar laughed.
“Oh, that’s amazing!” Oddstripe gasped. “Will there be any left over? I’d love to have some for the herb stores!”
“We’ll have to see,” shrugged Goldenstar.
Aldertail shuffled her paws and asked, “Um, would it be okay if I came to the Cornerstones?”
“Of course,” Goldenstar nodded. “Everyone is welcome.”
“Okay,” she sighed in relief. “I just didn’t know since I wasn’t at the battle or anything.”
“We’ll go together,” Oddstripe smiled and she blushed profusely.
Across camp, Scorchplume emerged from Goldenstar’s den -- from their den -- and padded quickly to meet them.
“How did it go?” she asked with bated breath.
“Perfectly,” Goldenstar smiled, pressing a few licks to the crown of her beloved's head. “Sardine is dead and we didn’t lose a single cat. We’re going to the Cornerstones to celebrate and the kittypets are bringing catmint for everyone.”
“Really?” Ospreymask popped out of the warrior’s den with a bright smile on her face. “Is everybody going?”
“Seems like it,” Goldenstar said. “You’re welcome to come.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” purred the queen. “You coming, Pantherhaze?”
He shook his head, still sitting near the nursery. “I think I’ll stay with Slatepaw. Catmint doesn’t really affect me anyways.”
“Oh yeah,” Goldenstar frowned, remembering the time they had gone herb gathering as apprentices and everyone but him had been sent home for getting too carried away. “Well, let me know if you guys need anything here, okay?”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Barleybee smiled. “You guys go have fun.”
“You’re not coming?” Oddstripe asked.
“We’re too tired,” Sparrowsway said. “I’m sure Floodstrike will be there though.”
Scorchplume pressed close against Goldenstar’s side and said, “We should start going if we want to get there before the catnip runs out.”
“Oh, yeah?” chuckled Goldenstar, twining her tail with Scorch’s. “I didn’t take you for the type.”
“Well, it seems you don’t know everything about me,” smirked Scorch. “I used to be quite the party girl.” Goldenstar couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement in her belly at the thought.
“Ooh,” she purred, “I think I’d like to see that.”
“I’m sure you would,” Scorch gave an aloof toss of her head and started off towards the Cornerstones, running her tail flirtatiously under Goldenstar’s chin. Goldenstar swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and laughed nervously before darting to catch up. Finally, it seemed, the hardships were over and she could let loose with the woman she loved more than anything in the world.
Month 20 - Leaffall
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Things in camp were busy these days. Hunting to prepare everyone for winter was a top priority for anyone who wasn’t keeping their combat skills sharp for the inevitable fight with Sardine. Slatepaw and Pantherhaze had taken to daily hunts and she was finally starting to feel like her skills had improved.
“Amazing catch,” Pantherhaze purred as she proudly lifted up the rabbit she had chased down. “You’ve come so far, Slatepaw. I’m so proud of you.”
“Fanks,” she grinned around the prey in her teeth. Her thick, winter coated tail furled up over her back and she let the praise roll over her like warm sunlight.
“Let’s grab the rest and go back,” he said, butting his head against her shoulder which he could do now that she was almost taller than he was. They collected a few more rodents from their cache and returned to camp as the morning sun started to peek over the mountains.
“Nice catch!” Barleybee congratulated as they passed her and Aldertail on their way out.
“She caught it herself,” Pantherhaze boasted for her. Slatepaw blushed at the look of amazement on Aldertail’s face.
“Wow,” she breathed. “I could never do that. That’s amazing.”
“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” Barleybee said, touching her nose to Aldertail’s ear. To Slatepaw, she added, “I bet you Ospreymask would really appreciate that right now.”
“Her specifically?” Pantherhaze tilted his head in confusion.
“You’ll understand in a bit,” laughed Barleybee. “She’s been telling everybody.”
Slatepaw’s stomach fluttered in excitement. Could it be what she was thinking it was? She and Pantherhaze said goodbye to Barleybee and Aldertail and she began her search for Ospreymask.
It wasn’t hard to find her.
She sat outside the Healers’ den with Oddstripe and Songdust, saying loudly, “I don’t think I’ll be moving my nest quite yet. Might as well give the boys a bit more time to themselves.”
“Osprehmahsk!” Slatepaw called around her catch and she bounded over.
“Slatepaw!” Ospreymask beamed and lifted her tail in greeting.
Slatepaw dropped the rabbit at her feet and asked, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?!” She felt like her paws were full of bees the way they were vibrating.
“Depends,” smirked Ospreymask, starting out slow but increasing in speed and volume as she neared the end of her sentence, “do you think I’m saying that I’m going to have kits?!”
“Yes!” squealed Slatepaw, ecstatic.
“Then I am!” Ospreymask cheered in kind, rubbing her head all down Slatepaw’s side and looping around to lean against her other side. “I’m gonna be a mama!”
“That’s so exciting!” Slatepaw felt on the verge of happy tears. “Who with?”
“You’ll just have to guess, won’t you,” Ospreymask laughed.
“Lots of queens don’t feel the need to tell people who the sire is,” Songdust explained. “I know that hasn’t really been your experience but it was a lot more common when I was your age.”
“Oh, okay,” said Slatepaw, a bit confused. She didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to shout your mate’s name from the mountain tops but she supposed everyone was different. Fogpaw would probably think she was stupid for feeling that way, for one.
She brushed the thought away with a twitch of her tail and said, “Here, you should have the rabbit I caught! You need to eat up to help the kits grow, right?”
“That’s right,” winked Ospreymask and Oddstripe nodded in agreement.
“Congratulations,” Pantherhaze said more calmly, butting heads with Ospreymask.
“Thanks, buddy,” she purred. “I’m absolutely thrilled.”
“It’s a shame on the timing though,” he said. “You’ll have to miss out on mentoring Yellowkit and Bluekit.”
Ospreymask’s face fell suddenly. “Aw, man! I didn’t even think about that!” She plopped down into a pouty loaf and pulled the rabbit closer, sourly starting on her meal. Slatepaw giggled and Oddstripe laid his tail over Ospreymask’s shoulder.
“There will be more chances in the future, I’m sure,” he said.
“I know,” sighed Ospreymask. “I guess waiting a moon or two to recover is better than having to wait six moons to have kits or having to stop training halfway through.”
“Yeah, exactly,” agreed Pantherhaze. “StarClan knows when to send us our blessings. I’m sure the timing will feel perfect when you look back on everything.”
“Slatepaw, guess what?!” Fogpaw’s voice called and Slatepaw turned around to see her sister loping in from the southern edge of camp.
“Ospreymask is having kits? I know!” she squealed, bounding over to meet her sister. “It’s so exciting, I can’t wait!”
“She is?” Fogpaw gaped. “Wow, that’s awesome!”
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Slatepaw blinked. “What was your ‘guess what’ then?”
“Ghost is on his way!” grinned Fogpaw.
“Really?” Slatepaw lit up before confusion made her frown again. “Wait, I thought you hated him.”
“I don’t hate him anymore,” Fogpaw rolled her eyes as if that had been common knowledge. “But yeah, he’s coming to talk to Goldenstar about battle plans! Isn’t that great?”
Slatepaw felt her insides shrivel up in fear. “I guess,” she lied. That meant there was going to be a fight. That meant people were going to die. She didn’t want people to die!
“I hope we get to go!” Fogpaw chattered, tail curling back and forth. “I barely got to fight in the last battle.” Slatepaw swallowed. The last battle had killed Lakepaw and Sagetooth. She looked around the clearing at the smiling faces of her Clanmates and wondered who of them wouldn’t make it. She felt like she was going to cry.
“Hey,” Fogpaw frowned, “are you okay? You look sad.”
Slatepaw was surprised her sister had noticed, although she was pretty terrible at hiding her emotions to be fair. “Um, I’m just nervous,” she said.
“Of what?” Fogpaw wound her tail with Slatepaw’s.
“I- I don’t know,” she balked. Suddenly she was struggling to put her words together. “That people will die?” Was that so unreasonable?
Fogpaw hummed thoughtfully and said, “I’m sure it’ll be okay, Slatepaw. This time we’re gonna be prepared so it’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” she relented, not wanting to make a fight out of it.
“Slatepaw!” called the friendly voice of Jagg from the top of the hill. Beside her was Ghost, wearing an uneasy half smile that made her heart soar in hope. Scorchplume followed up behind them, tail twitching, and headed down into Goldenstar’s den without a word. Fogpaw smiled at Slatepaw and then started over to meet them so she followed.
Ghost cleared his throat and said, “Hey, kiddo.”
“Hi dad, hi Jagg,” she responded shyly. “How are you?”
“Pretty good,” said Jagg with a friendly arch to her tail. “How’s your training coming?”
“Good,” smiled Slatepaw. “I caught a rabbit today.”
“Wow! A whole rabbit? That’s amazing,” said Jagg brightly. Slatepaw blushed under her praise and leaned closer to Fogpaw.
“She’s ready for you,” Scorchplume called from across the camp, and Ghost’s ear stumps twitched in her direction.
“Well, looks like we’ve got to go,” he said, clearing his throat.
“Will you share tongues with us after your meeting?” Slatepaw asked as loudly as she could muster.
“We’ll have to see,” he said, not looking at her.
“It depends on how long the meeting takes,” added Jagg. “We’ll come say goodbye at the very least.”
“Okay,” Slatepaw nodded meekly. With that, the two adults joined Scorchplume at the entrance to Goldenstar’s den and slank inside. Scorchplume scowled in Slatepaw and Fogpaw’s direction before following them with a twitching tail tip.
Slatepaw pursed her lips angrily. “Why is she so mean?”
“Who, Jagg?” Fogpaw asked incredulously. “She’s super nice, what are you talking about?”
“Not Jagg,” Slatepaw’s ears pressed back in frustration at her sister’s density, “Scorchplume! She’s such a bully!”
“No she’s not!” Fogpaw puffed up furiously which made Slatepaw flinch. “She’s just doing her best! Being nice is hard for her!”
“Hah!” crowed Slatepaw in victory. “So you admit that she’s mean!”
“Nuh-uh!” bristled Fogpaw. “I said being nice is hard for her, that’s not the same!”
“How is it not the same? That’s stupid!”
“You’re stupid!” Fogpaw snapped. “I mean- no, I didn’t mean that.”
“Then why did you say it?” Slatepaw said, starting to tear up but determined to stay strong.
“Because I’m angry,” Fogpaw said. “Look, I-” She took a deep breath and pushed it out sternly through her nose. “I’m sorry, okay? I just care a lot about Scorchplume. She’s really nice to me. I wish you would try and get to know her like I do.”
Slatepaw swished her tail defensively around her paws. “What if she’s nice to you ‘cause she’s a liar?”
“What would she get from lying to me? What does that do for her?”
“Maybe she gets a cat who will swear she’s good and kind,” accused Slatepaw. The idea solidified in her head as she said it and it scared her. “Maybe she’s using you to trick everyone into trusting her so she can take over the Clan!”
“Slatepaw, that’s crazy, you sound like FallenClan,” Fogpaw rolled her eyes.
“I’m not crazy!” Slatepaw sat up straight. “I’m not.” With that, she turned and stormed off.
“Slatepaw, wait, come back!” Fogpaw said, chasing after her.
Luckily, Pantherhaze swooped in between them and said, “Why don’t you let her get some space, okay, Fogpaw?” Slatepaw paused to look over her shoulder. She kept a scowl on her face but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to scare Fogpaw off or make her stay.
Fogpaw swallowed, looked at her, and then nodded. “Okay. Sorry, Slatepaw. I’ll give you space.”
“Good,” she huffed and twitched an ear. Fogpaw stepped away and went to sit near the leader’s den. Slatepaw decided to go into the apprentices’ den and lay down in her nest.
After a moment, Pantherhaze poked his head inside. “Hey, do you need anything, Slatepaw?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled sullenly into the moss.
“Okay,” he said. “If you can think of anything just tell me, okay? I’m here for you.”
“I know,” she sniffled. “Thanks, Pantherhaze.”
“Of course, sweetie,” he smiled tenderly and retreated, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
Month 20 - Leaffall
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“I want to come,” Floodstrike said firmly, walking sharply in step with Goldenstar as she went about the final preparations for her meeting with the city cats. She stopped, gave a pained sigh, and looked her apprentice over. His jaw was tightly set, his forepaws sheathing and unsheathing their claws in the grass with excess energy. At least, she noticed, his eyes weren’t raw and red anymore.
“Floodstrike,” she began carefully.
“I know,” he interrupted, “this is important and you don’t want me to mess it up but, I promise, I won’t do anything stupid. I just want to be there in case things go wrong.”
Goldenstar couldn’t help but let out a sympathetic breath through her nose. “I understand,” she said, “I really do, but this meeting took weeks to arrange. I’m only bringing warriors who I can trust to stay cool headed.”
“You can trust me, Goldenstar,” he begged, leaning in. “Please. I need to be there.”
Goldenstar took a slow, deep breath, closed her eyes, and then let it out with a huff. “Fine. I’m trusting you.” Opening her eyes, she searched his face for his reaction.
“Thank you!” he deflated slightly with relief. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
“Go eat a meal and tell Oddstripe to make you a portion of traveling herbs,” she said with a twitch of her ear. Floodstrike nodded dutifully and bounded off towards the healer’s den. Goldenstar sighed again.
After a beat to collect herself, Goldenstar resumed her preparations. She stopped Russetfrond and made sure that there wasn’t anything they hadn’t already discussed that needed her attention before she left. This time he didn’t seem resistant to staying home which was a relief. She honestly couldn’t blame him. If something happened to Bluekit and Yellowkit while he was away, she knew he would never forgive himself.
Next, she went to check on Aldertail and found her with Oddstripe making the bundles of herbs for the journey. She went over the emergency protocol with Aldertail again, making sure that she knew exactly who to go to if another attack was launched while they were away. Aldertail nodded, seeming reassured by the repetition of the plan, which had been Goldenstar’s intention.
Before she left, Oddstripe asked, “Is it true you agreed to let Floodstrike go along?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, belly clenching nervously.
“Okay,” Oddstripe nodded and looked down. “Just make sure he comes home safe, alright?”
“Of course,” said Goldenstar with genuine fervor. “I won’t take a single risk I don’t have to.”
“Oh, thank you,” the healer sniffled and smiled up at her and she felt her chest tighten. She hoped she would be able to keep her promise.
When she stepped outside, Scorchplume fell into step beside her and said, “SkyClan is here. Orangestar should be waiting for us at the thunderpath.”
“Good,” she nodded. “Let's get everyone together and get ready to go.”
“Alright,” Scorch said without looking at her, the picture of a regal advisor. “I’ll fetch Songdust. Why don’t you grab Coyotechaser?”
“And Floodstrike,” Goldenstar said, bracing herself.
“What?” Scorch’s regality dissipated like someone smacking a dandelion puff. Keeping her voice low but her tone sharp, she whispered, “No. No way! Goldenstar, we talked about this, we can’t afford any rash behavior!”
“I know, I know, but he swore he would be on his best behavior,” tried Goldenstar.
“So did Fogpaw,” huffed Scorch, “that doesn’t mean she gets to tag along!”
“We could use the extra muscle,” she argued.
“At what cost?” Scorchplume lashed her tail, took a deep breath and said, “Look. I love you, Goldie,” (and Goldenstar puffed up with affection, much to Scorch’s annoyance) “but your judgment is impaired here! You’re too soft on him. It isn’t fun but he’s just going to have to suck it up and stay home and you’re going to have to suck it up and tell him so.” It took a good deal of effort for Goldenstar not to squirm under Scorch’s piercing scowl.
“I understand where you’re coming from,” she said firmly, “but the choice has already been made. It’s gonna look bad if I undo my decision because you told me to.” Scorchplume looked askance, ears swiveling backward. Quickly, Goldenstar added, “Besides, I’m trusting Floodstrike and I’m asking you to trust me. I don’t want to make you feel like I cornered you into going along with this or anything.” She gently laid her tail over Scorch’s, hoping that she hadn’t just accidentally threatened her kind-of-sort-of-partner.
Scorch was still for a moment, likely processing something behind her mask. Then she said, “It’s fine, you couldn’t corner me if you tried.” Goldenstar chuckled a little and wrapped her tail more tightly around Scorch’s.
“That’s good. I promise that if he does anything out of line I’ll send him home.”
“You’d better,” Scorch said, looking up at her. “We probably won’t get a second chance at this.”
“I know,” Goldenstar said with the appropriate solemnity. “I won’t let this opportunity slip through our claws.”
Scorch sighed, nodded, and bumped her head against Goldenstar’s forehead. “Alright.”
“Goldenstar!” Coyotechaser called over from where she was standing with Greyvoice and Couragecry who were scheduled to join a border patrol. “Are we ready to go?”
“Just about!” she called back, “We’ll grab our traveling herbs and head out.”
~~~
After meeting up with Orangestar, the group - Goldenstar, Scorchplume, Songdust, Floodstrike, and Coyotechaser - crossed the thunderpath and headed for the city. The afternoon stretched into evening and as they approached, Goldenstar watched in wonder as the city lights came to life one by one.
“Remember,” Scorchplume told them as they walked, “When we get to the meeting, I’ll do the speaking for all of us. If you have something you want said, let me know and I’ll phrase it in a way that the city cats will respond favorably to.”
“Right,” Coyotechaser said cautiously.
“Also,” Goldenstar said, “As far as the city cats know, I’m the leader of all the Clans. At this point, we think it's best to leave it that way. The less they actually know about us, the better. While we’re in the city, you and Orangestar are my advisors, just like Scorchplume.”
“I can see the reason in that,” admitted the SkyClan deputy.
“In that case,” said Orangestar, “it might be good to avoid calling me Orangestar, just in case.”
“That’s smart,” said Goldenstar, smiling fondly at her friend. “Guess you’ll be Orangeleaf again for a while.”
“Guess so,” laughed Orangestar bashfully.
They padded along for a while longer before they reached the large gravel path that led into the city. Goldenstar led them along the edge of it, trying to steady her nerves. This was where things got dangerous. The plan relied on them drawing as little attention to themselves as possible and the closer they got, the more likely it was that they would be seen and possibly attacked.
Her fears were realized when they spotted a small cluster of cats loitering across the gravel from them, just little ginger and white and grey smudges in the fading light. Coyotechaser growled a low warning to the others, tail bristling, and Goldenstar held her tail out behind her to try and settle the group.
“Easy,” she said.
The group of cat shapes up ahead stood and started loping back to the city and Floodstrike lunged after them before Goldenstar had a chance to say anything. Quickly, Songdust hooked a paw out in front of him, tumbling him forward. He caught himself before hitting the gravel and turned back to glare at her.
“Floodstrike!” Goldenstar hissed so that the city cats wouldn’t be able to hear. “What are you doing?”
“They’re going to get reinforcements!” he cried indignantly.
“Or,” Scorchplume cut in sharply, “they’re with Rudy and attacking them would have ruined the entire meeting!” Orangestar glanced from Scorch to Goldenstar with worry and Coyotechaser squinted inscrutably at Floodstrike. Songdust just looked pitying. Under all these gazes, Floodstrike’s big ears wilted behind him and he pressed his mouth into a thin line.
“I’m sorry, Goldenstar,” he said, “I- I thought I was helping.”
“I know,” she sighed, avoiding the pointed look that Scorch was giving her. “Let’s keep going. We don’t have time to waste out in the open.” She ducked her head and started going, knowing that a number of unpleasant conversations were going to be had eventually.
They walked in silence the rest of the way to Luna’s garden. The little lilac kittypet was waiting for them on top of the fence and smiled in greeting, ushering them over the fence with her tail.
“Welcome! Welcome!” she purred, blushing when she made eye contact with Floodstrike. “Schmidt should be here soon, you can wait under the bench by the hydrangeas.”
“Thank you,” Goldenstar thanked her and hopped the fence with a quick bound.
When her paws hit the ground, Scorchplume was right behind her, saying softly, “I told you not to bring him.”
“I know,” Goldenstar whispered back. “I’ll handle it.”
“Good,” huffed Scorch. She led the way to the bench, which was good since Goldenstar had no idea what a bench was in the first place, and the other cats followed, clustering underneath the odd wooden structure with their backs against the wilting hydrangea blossoms.
“You trust this Schmidt cat?” Coyotechaser asked.
“I do,” Goldenstar nodded.
“He kept me safe while I was in the city,” said Songdust. “He’s a good cat, if a bit idealistic.”
“That’s good,” mewed Orangestar.
Goldenstar glanced past her to where Floodstrike was sitting, tail curled around his paws and she swallowed in shame when he met her gaze a second later. He could tell he was in trouble and they were both miserable about it. She quickly averted her gaze and tried to go over the meeting points in her mind.
A short time later, two cats crested the fence and followed Luna over to the bench. The first cat was Schmidt, a kind smile on his face as he approached, and the second was a cat who looked exactly like him but with a slightly brighter tint to his ginger fur, much like Orangestar. The second cat followed closely behind Schmidt. His eyes wandered the yard for any sign of danger but his face bore a politely empty expression rather than a threatening or anxious one. Goldenstar stepped out from under the bench to meet them and the others followed suit.
“Evenin’, Goldenstar,” said Schimdt with a well mannered dip of the head. “This is my brother, Westen. He insisted on comin’ to watch my back.” At his introduction, Westen dipped his head in kind and briefly flashed a smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Westen,” Goldenstar said.
“Please, ma’am, call me Wes,” said Wes with a twang and a humble smile. Goldenstar couldn’t help but smile herself.
“Of course,” she said. Then, back to Schimdt, “Is everything ready for the meeting?”
“As ready as it’ll ever be,” Schimdt said with a nervous huff. “We’ll be meetin’ on a friend’s balcony at sundown. We prolly ought to head over there now though. Don’t wanna get caught like a squirrel in a bottle.” Goldenstar nodded instead of asking what a bottle or a balcony was.
“Right, let’s get going then,” she said.
Scorchplume cleared her throat, looking strained.
Goldenstar frowned. “Right. Floodstrike, I’m going to need you to stay here.”
“Goldenstar, please!” Floodstrike protested. “It was one mistake, I promise it won’t happen again.”
“You already promised me and you broke your promise,” Goldenstar said. “I’m sorry. Stay here with Luna. If something goes wrong we’ll have someone send you for help.”
Floodstrike opened his mouth to protest then closed it with a soft clack. Looking down, he sighed, “Alright.” Goldenstar smiled, bittersweet. She was proud, at least, that he hadn’t tried to keep arguing.
“Alright, let’s go,” she said, and Schmidt nodded and turned to lead the way.
On the edge of her hearing, Goldenstar caught Wes whispering to Luna, “Miss Luna, will you be alright on your own with this fella?”
“Oh, don’t worry, Wes,” Luna purred, “We get on peachy.” Then she laughed like she’d told a joke.
This seemed enough to put Wes at ease and he said simply, “Alright then. Don’t forget to fetch your Folk if you need anythin',” before slinking back into place behind Schmidt’s right shoulder. Goldenstar chuckled a bit and hung back to speak with Floodstrike.
“Hey,” she said softly and he looked up with big, guilty eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up so bad you forget to enjoy yourself, ‘kay?”
“W-” Floodstrike frowned then glanced past her to Luna before blushing with understanding. “Oh. That’s- I’m not-”
“It’s alright,” Goldenstar laughed a little. “Whatever happens, it’ll be alright as long as you feel comfortable. Don’t forget to stand up for yourself.”
“Alright,” he swallowed dryly.
With that, Goldenstar bounded to catch up before anyone could call for her and the group hopped the fence and darted across the thunderpath towards the meeting place.
Month 20 - Leaffall
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“Are you sure you’re alright?” Goldenstar asked again, leaning in to speak privately with Scorchplume. Trailing behind Schmidt and his brother, they skirted the edge of a narrow parking lot crowded with cars under flickering yellow lamp light.
“I’m fine,” Scorch forced out through her teeth, trying not to gag and hoping that didn’t come across. “I promise.”
“Alright,” Goldenstar said slowly, clearly unconvinced. Scorch was too busy trying to see through the closing tunnel of her vision. She took a slow breath to try and calm herself but that only made it worse. The smell - his smell, that fucking oats and honey smell - was all encompassing and she had to fight her own body not to start hyperventilating.
She tried to focus on her whiskers, on what they could feel was around her - Goldenstar close to her left side but not touching her - thank fuck - and empty air on her right - but she couldn’t help but panic, convinced he was about to come out of nowhere and put his fucking nose in her scruff and-
“Now we climb,” Schmidt said and Scorch blinked to find them standing at the base of a tall building with rows of balconies hanging out over a sparse, yellow lawn. Beside them stood a towering pine tree nearly as tall as the building itself. After a moment to let the Clan cats gape, Schmidt slipped into the shelter of the tree’s branches and Scorch could finally breathe.
She blinked in relief, panting gratefully as the smell of pine needles and long-passed dogs and city air. It was like a vice had released her chest. She looked down at her paws and took a deep slow breath to steady herself.
“Miss Scorch?” a voice from just outside her whiskers made her snap to attention and she wheeled around to find Westen tilting his head worriedly at her.
“What is it?” she snipped, regretting the hostility the moment it escaped her.
“You just seem… unwell,” he said. “Is there anythin’ I can do for ya?”
“I’m quite alright,” she said, straightening her posture with an exhale and trying to lay her fur flat. “Thank you, though.”
“‘Course, ma’am,” he said in a tone that was painfully honest. “If'n you need anythin’ at all, you just let me know, alright?”
Scorch pulled a tight smile over her lips and said, “I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Wes smiled and dipped his head and she turned back to the pine tree. Everyone but her and Wes had already started the ascent and she almost wished she could stay here and toy with Wes for the entire evening instead of joining Schmidt on the balcony above.
She couldn’t though. She took a deep breath, savoring the smell of it, and stepped into the pitch black space inside the pine’s heavy branches. She could taste the barest traces of that sickening smell on the air and, as she started to climb, she tried to drill her own mind into obedience.
He’s dead. You saw him die. Stop being a stupid panicky baby already! It’s just a smell. You’re being irrational. You’re better than this!
After some climbing, she reached a point where Songdust was waiting for her in the branches.
“They all jumped to the, uh, balcony here,” said the elder.
“Thanks,” Scorch puffed, realizing she likely would have missed it if someone hadn’t been there. She carefully ventured out onto the limb which bowed and swayed slightly under her weight. Careful pawstep after pawstep, she moved to the edge of the branch and out into the night air again. The oats and honey smell hit her and she had to sink her claws into the bark to avoid swooning straight off the branch.
Stupid, she thought harshly and forced herself to leap the short distance from the branch to the stone of the balcony just ahead, slipping easily between the bars of the railing. Trying to breathe without tasting the scent, she surveyed the area.
It was a small space, several tail-lengths across, slightly less deep than it was wide. The concrete had been covered with a piece of spare carpeting that looked like it might have been white once. A pair of wrought iron chairs sat off to one side and a cluster of potted plants crowded the corner near the sliding glass door which had been cracked open just wide enough for a cat to pass through.
Goldenstar, Orangestar, and Coyotechaser had settled next to the base of one chair, all looking around at what was surely a strange space to them, and Schmidt was seated neatly by the door next to a plump little black tom with white paws and flecks of blue in his dark brown eyes. A second later, Songdust and Wes joined them on the balcony, both of them lingering near the edge to keep watch.
Scorch padded over to the chairs and hopped up on top of one hoping the height advantage would not only give her a more authoritative bargaining position but possibly part the brain fog closing in around her.
“This is amazing,” Coyotechaser said conversationally. “I had no idea twolegs built their nests on cliffs like birds.”
“Two legs?” the new kittypet mumbled under his breath in confusion.
Schmidt said, “Oh, no, this isn’t a cliff. The Folk built this whole structure.”
“Are you serious?” Orangestar gaped. “That’s incredible!”
“They are, aren’t they,” purred the new cat, puffing proudly.
Scorch was working terribly hard to stay present. Smiling, she crooned, “Schmidt, you haven’t introduced us to your little friend here.” As she had expected, Schmidt paled as if he had kicked litter directly in their faces. Served him right for smelling how he did.
“Oh, my,” he said quickly, “Please, forgive my rudeness, ladies. This is Admiral. He was kind enough to let us use his balcony for the evenin’.”
Admiral smiled a wide, toothy smile and said, “It’s my pleasure! Anything to help cats come together. Everyone is so divided these days, don’t you agree?”
“Definitely,” she purred, fighting the urge to roll her eyes so hard they disappeared into her head.
“Exactly,” Orangestar said sincerely. “We should be working together to defeat a common enemy, not squabbling over petty disputes.”
“Oh,” Admiral said in a voice far too high to be genuine. “That’s… that’s certainly, um…”
“Incoming,” Songdust interjected. She and Wes took a step back from the railing and the rest of the group held their breath. Scorch shut her eyes wishing she could will her peripheral vision back into existence.
A beat later heavy paws hit the concrete and she was forced to open her eyes. A cinnamon tuxedo with sizable stud jowls and a splotch of ruddy fur in the middle of his white muzzle lifted his head to squint at her, showing off his mint green bell collar. Rudy had always been a stocky cat but he had put on a few impressive pounds since she had last seen him and she raised her brows back at him, hoping she was projecting an air of superiority recognizing superiority and not one of queasiness.
Rudy broke her gaze first and said, “Schmidt.”
“Rudy,” Schmidt smiled nervously. “Thank you for joining us.”
A grey lynx point tom and a white splashed brown tabby tom with a notched ear quickly joined them on the balcony. The new cats shifted uneasily. They eyed Songdust and Wes with suspicion and Rudy flicked his gaze over Goldenstar and her “advisors” coldly.
“I didn’t realize this was gonna be such a big shindig,” he said, “I woulda brought more guests.”
It was time for Scorch to focus up.
Glancing out over the city as an excuse to take a deep breath of fresh air, she said, “Traveling in the city is dangerous for Goldenstar and she needed to take extra precautions to ensure that she returns home safely.” Looking back at him, she added, “It was important to her to attend this meeting in person, as a show of good faith.”
“Do you always do her talking for her?” Rudy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Scorch smiled. “She has asked me to be her voice in this meeting seeing as I am also Exalted and thus will better be able to handle negotiations.”
“Right,” Rudy studied Goldenstar with narrowed eyes.
“She speaks the truth,” Goldenstar said, sitting tall but relaxed. “For today, Scorch’s word is my word. Shall we get started?” If Scorch wasn’t struggling to breathe she might have grinned the proudest grin. Goldenstar was learning. Rudy stared at her for another moment before jerking his chin in Schmidt’s direction which was as good as a “yes.”
“Wonderful,” said Admiral. “As the arbitrator of this discussion, there are a few things to go over before we begin properly. Firstly, this meeting will remain peaceful. Any fighting or even shouting will be punished by my Folk.” He twitched his tail towards the muted sound of a picture box that filtered through the open crack of the sliding door.
“Secondly, I want everyone to enter this discussion in good faith. Let’s not lie to each other or treat the other parties as inherently untrustworthy. And thirdly, there will be no interrupting or talking over each other. If more than one person wants to speak, I will decide who gets to go first. Okay? Okay. With that all said and agreed to, I’m going to give the floor to Schmidt to start.”
Schmidt nodded gratefully and said, “Thank you kindly, Admiral. I think everyone here appreciates brevity so I’ll get right to it. Sardine is a tyrant and he needs to go. Myself and a collection of like minded cats, both Exalted and Chaff, have been tryin’ to sort out the best way to replace him and we’ve decided you’re the most qualified cat in the city for the job. We want to back your claim for Speaker in exchange for equal representation in the leadership, meanin’ for each cat you appoint, we get to appoint one as well.”
Rudy scoffed. “I don’t need your help, Schmidt. I’m going to be Speaker and there’s nothing Sardine can do to stop me, the coward.” At this, he turned his head to face the long drop from the balcony and disrespectfully spat. Admiral rumbled in displeasure.
“Perhaps,” Scorch said, focusing the dark tunnel of her vision on Rudy, “but with our help you can end this succession crisis quickly and decisively. As I understand it, Sardine carries out a raid on your people at least once a week, correct?”
“And what do you and your savages get out of it?” asked Rudy. “The firstborn kit of every litter?” The cats he had brought with him seemed to find this humorous but Admiral lashed his tail in warning.
“I’ll remind you of the second rule, Rudy,” he said, sounding to Scorch like a man who knew he was quite small and unimportant but was desperate to be respected.
“It’s a genuine, good faith question,” Rudy said, straining believability.
“Goldenstar and her warriors request a truce agreement,” said Scorchplume. “Within the terms of this agreement, hunting within Clan territory would cease and any acts of aggression between city cats and Clan cats would be punishable offenses on both sides. In exchange, Goldenstar would pledge combat support to the Skyraiders in any fight with Sardine’s forces and would… even be willing to share their ancestral hunting techniques with the city.”
She swallowed and pushed through the rolling nausea in her belly, grateful that she had managed to remember everything they had discussed even in her current state. Goldenstar’s ear twitched back at Scorch with worry but she otherwise kept her composure.
“‘Ancestral hunting techniques’,” Rudy scoffed. “You mean magic mumbo-jumbo?”
Scorch laughed. “I assure you, I do not.”
“We’ve already started employin’ these techniques with some of the Chaff,” said Schmidt. “They’re designed to ensure that prey lasts until next year which will help keep everyone fed. That’s important to you, isn’t it?”
“Well, then we already have the techniques and we don’t have to pay for them,” smirked Rudy.
Scorchplume felt the conversation slipping out of her hands and she couldn’t open her mouth for fear of being sick.
Schmidt frowned. “It’s not just the hunting techniques-”
“And like I already told you,” Rudy growled, “I don’t need your help with Sardine. I’m not gonna trim my own whiskers for help I don’t even need. We’re done here.” He and his friends stood up and turned away and everyone else on the balcony inhaled tensely.
Scorch tried to think but the wind had changed and all she could smell was oats and honey and sweat and sex and him and-
“Scorch?” Goldenstar’s voice felt distant. When had she shut her eyes? She looked up, found herself huddled on the chair, only able to peek out through one eye. “Scorch, what’s wrong?”
Not now! she wanted to hiss, he’s getting away!
Thankfully, Songdust stepped in between Rudy and the pine tree. Rudy growled lowly, his fur starting to bristle.
“Out of my way,” he said, stepping aggressively forward.
“You don’t want our help because you think you're stronger than us, right?” challenged Songdust. “Well I’d say you’re not.”
“Really?” Rudy laughed. “A skinny little thing like you thinks she can take me in a fight?” He glanced back at his companions who found the situation equally laughable. Schmidt looked as if he might faint.
“I do,” Songdust’s lip curled for the briefest of moments, “so here’s a new idea: You and I go down to the grass and have it out. First one to pin is the victor. If I win, you accept our terms and we help you fight Sardine. You win-”
“I win,” he interrupted, “and you return Mystique’s kits.”
“She doesn’t want them,” Goldenstar cut in.
“I don’t care,” said Rudy, lifting his head boldly. “Those kits belong in the city, not starving in some hole in the ground like mice.”
Scorchplume swallowed and managed to straighten her posture as she said, “Deal.”
“What?” Orangestar’s gaze snapped to her. Coyotechaser was glaring. Goldenstar looked hurt but kept silent.
“Great,” Rudy smiled like setting concrete. “Let’s do this.” He turned to smile at Songdust and she nodded, turning to head down the pine tree. Rudy and his gang followed. Wes gave the rest of them a quick look of unease before he went after them.
The moment he was gone, everyone rounded on her.
“Scorchplume, why did you do that?!” Goldenstar gaped, horrified. Scorch was busy trying not to puke.
“That wasn’t your choice to make!” hissed Coyotechaser, spine arching.
Scorch bristled and snapped back, “Actually, I think you’ll find it was. Goldenstar is in charge and she gave me the authority to negotiate on her behalf - on the Clans’ behalf.” She leapt down from her perch on the chair and shoved her nose into Coyotechaser’s space. “If you don’t like my choices you shouldn’t have agreed to this meeting in the first place. Excuse me.”
Moving quickly, she stormed over to the edge of the balcony and took a moment to steady herself before leaping. Her stomach flipped and she gagged hard as she nearly missed the branch in her shaky state but she managed to scramble to safety and start descending the tree.
Immediately, the shame set in and the fear followed close behind.
Why had she done that? Now that she could breathe again, she felt intensely stupid. Why was a smell all it took to send her flying off the handle like that? What punishments had she just incurred? Goldenstar, she might be able to win back, but the other Clans? They already saw her as an insidious infiltrator, a devious manipulator trying to make a power grab. She had played directly into their expectations. How could she win them back now?
Why was she trying? She realized, suddenly, that there was nothing holding her in this situation. She had done it all to herself. If she wanted, she could leave, run into the desert or back to the city she’d been born in. What was stopping her?
Goldenstar.
The thought of leaving her hurt like a rotten tooth and Scorch nearly broke down sobbing right then and there. She paused on the lowest branches of the pine tree and took slow deep breaths as she tried to blink the tears away. Get it together! she berated herself, You’re being a fucking child. What is WRONG with you?!
Outside, on the lawn, she could hear Wes talking. “I want a clean fight, you two. No blood, no outside interventions. First one to pin takes it.”
“I still think we should use claws,” Rudy said.
“Fine with me,” said Songdust, “just no death blows.”
“Sure,” Rudy said, “but if you try and pull something I won’t hold back.”
“Right back at you,” growled Songdust.
“Easy now,” Wes warned. “No one’s gonna try anythin’. Fight starts on three. One…”
With one more slow exhale, Scorch collected herself and slank out to watch the fight.
“Two…” Wes glanced at her as she arrived but Songdust and Rudy stayed focused on each other, their stances shifting slightly in response to the others movements. “Three!”
The combatants collided in a hissing, spitting frenzy of claws. Somewhere inside the building, a dog started baying loudly. They traded blows back and forth, swatting the other’s paws away and then trying to get in a hit of their own, moving so fast Scorch couldn’t tell who was hurting who.
Songdust hopped back first, bouncing lightly on her toes, a red streak in her thick, white cheek fur. Rudy let her go and dropped into a deep crouch, keeping his bulk low where it would be hard to topple him. Songdust stayed arched up high. Scorch guessed she was attempting to preserve her agility, which was her biggest advantage over him. Absently, Scorch realized that she hadn’t known those kinds of things two years ago.
Songdust was creeping sideways at a snail's pace, her face giving nothing away. Rudy watched her as if scowling hard enough would let him read her mind. Songdust feinted in then danced back, then in again, closer this time. Rudy growled and swiped a warning at her.
“Come on, Rudy!” cheered one of his friends, “Pin ‘er already!”
Rudy’s tail lashed back and forth. When Songdust came in again, he lunged for her with claws extended and she barely managed to lift her hind legs over his head in time, twisting around to lash at his haunches. He rolled over his shoulder and onto his back to kick at her and she went for the pin. Scorch held her breath.
They struggled with each other in a way that was hard to see, growling, and then Rudy gave a hard kick with both legs and Songdust went flipping over him and onto her own back. He twisted to his feet and lunged but she was already rolling away and they both stopped to catch their breath.
“You’re not bad,” Rudy panted, smiling through bloody teeth.
“Thanks,” smirked Songdust breathily.
At this point, Orangestar joined Scorch and Wes at the bottom of the tree, asking, “How’s it going so far?”
“Pretty evenly back and forth,” mumbled Wes. “She’s doin’ better than I would have thought.”
“She’s got a lot of experience,” Orangestar whispered back.
Songdust darted in again and swiped her claws over Rudy’s nose. He smacked her hard over the head and she rolled with the hit, grunting in pain. Scorch winced. Rudy pursued her, slamming his heavy paws down on her belly and she squirmed, flailing her limbs wildly to hit back at him. Wes grimaced.
“One…” he began to count.
Songdust cursed and curled around Rudy’s paws as they pinned her down.
“Two…”
At the last second, Songdust delivered a series of rabbit kicks to Rudy’s jaw that sent him reeling with a pained hiss. She whirled onto her feet as he staggered and launched herself at his head with a flying leap. She landed on his shoulders, her paws wrapped around his neck, and then pulled him close as she tumbled over him, tipping so that her momentum carried them both crashing to the ground.
Rudy hacked roughly but Songdust kept her paws tightly around his windpipe as they wrestled on the ground. Scorch swallowed, allowing hope to lift in her stomach despite her better judgment.
“Does that count as a pin?” Orangestar leaned forward, tail tip twitching.
“I can’t tell,” Wes hissed under his breath. “They’re moving too much, I don’t think it counts.”
“Come on, Rudy!” his friends cheered desperately.
The fighting cats rolled over the brittle grass in relative silence until Rudy choked out, “E-enough!” and Wes shouted, “That’s surrender! Songdust wins!” Scorch let out a shaky breath, smiling genuinely for the first time all day.
The cats broke apart immediately and Rudy’s friends crowded close to check on him while he coughed and gasped for air, blinking as if his vision had started to go dark. He glared up at Songdust through one eye, teeth bared as he panted, but she just nodded to him.
“Good fight,” she said, the blood in her fur starting to dry and clump together.
After a long beat, Rudy laughed. “Yeah, you too, wild cat. Where’d you learn a move like that?”
“Mystique taught me,” said Songdust with a smug, toothy grin.
“No shit,” said Rudy.
The pine needles rustled behind them and Goldenstar and Coyotechaser emerged looking frantic.
“Who won?” Goldenstar asked, eyes darting from cat to cat.
“Songdust,” Orangestar said and both newcomers sighed in relief. Scorch saw Goldenstar’s eyes moving towards her next and she quickly turned away to approach Songdust before she could get caught in an unpleasant conversation.
“Well done,” she praised, feeling put together again. “I knew you had it in you.” The lie came easily.
“Thanks, Scorchplume,” Songdust purred, casually butting their heads together. “I appreciate your confidence in me.”
“So,” said Scorch, turning her attention on Rudy, “it seems we’ll be working together from now on.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he twitched an ear and swiped his tongue over his bloody, broken gums. “I’m a cat of my word. Don’t get too happy about it.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Scorch smiled. She had nearly ruined everything with that gamble. She wasn’t about to let herself relax any time soon.
“We’ll stay in contact through Schmidt,” Goldenstar said, coming up beside her. “When you’re ready to take on Sardine, we’ll be there.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he grunted, straightening up to get some of his dignity back.
Goldenstar smiled her classic, fearless smile and Scorch felt sick again. “I’d expect no less.” Turning to Scorch, she added, “Now, let’s go home,” in a tone that told Scorch she was going to have a rough night avoiding Goldenstar’s sympathies.
Month 17 - Greenleaf
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Goldenstar settled down in the dark, cozy space underneath the twoleg nest. It smelled strongly of Songdust down here, which was comforting, but she could still catch whiffs of Schmidt’s scent - a strange mix of oat and honey laying over his natural musk. The entire place was strange, to be honest. The wood above their heads all laid perfectly flat and straight in rows, sunlight peeking through gaps at regular intervals. Somewhere deeper in, water gurgled and an ever present humm filled the air now that there were no loud sounds to cover it up. It made her fur stand on end.
She glanced at Scorchplume and pursed her lips in a frown. Her beloved’s gaze was distant and unfocused as she huddled nearby, tail tucked around her paws as if to avoid accidentally touching anything. Even her breath was a little shakier than normal. Goldenstar had no idea what was going on with Scorch but it upset her how suddenly and without warning the behavior had appeared. She knew Scorch wouldn’t want her to pry in front of a city cat though, so she held her tongue.
“Thanks for speakin’ with me,” Schmidt said once they were all settled. “I s’pose to start, I should ask: how much d’you know about the situation here in the city?”
“Um,” Goldenstar glanced at Scorchplume who briefly caught her gaze before looking away. “I mostly know about how things were under Razor. I’m sure things have changed since he died though.”
“‘Changed’ would be puttin’ it kindly,” he said, grim faced. “Since he and Tiger both passed in the battle, there’s been a bit of an argument about who gets to take over.” He winced politely as he said it.
“I see,” Goldenstar hummed. So they had killed the deputy and the leader at once and there was a dispute about succession. When that happened in the Clans, they just went to StarClan and asked the previous leader, but city cats didn’t go anywhere when they died so it wasn’t like that was an option.
“Who’s currently in charge?” asked Scorchplume and her voice sounded strained. Goldenstar’s frown deepened.
“Well, Sardine is claimin’ he’s next in line,” said Schimdt.
“Sardine?” Scorch scoffed, eyes focusing for a moment. “He barely made it into the inner circle.”
“Exactly,” Schmidt nodded. “But Oreo abdicated to him and there’s no one else with a stronger claim. A few cats have made a bid for the spot but opinion is split. There’s Bella Swan but, as a she-cat, she’s unpopular with a lot of the toms.” Goldenstar twitched her ear at that. City cats were so confusing and stupid. “And there’s Rudy. He’s very popular with the Chaff. Even though he doesn’t have a great case, he has a lot of force to back it up.”
“Can’t you ask your Folk for an answer?” Goldenstar asked. “I thought they appointed Razor as your leader in the first place.”
Scorch scoffed again. “The Folk don’t actually talk to cats like that. Razor said that to justify his rule, not because it was true.” Schmidt shuffled uncomfortably but nodded.
“Regardless of your thoughts on the Folk,” he said, “only Portia can really understand their will.” It was Scorch’s turn to shuffle, her lips pursed tight as she held her tongue. Goldenstar frowned.
“You wanted to discuss this with me for a reason, I’m assuming,” she said. “Is there something you’d like me to do about the situation?”
“Myself and some other, like minded cats are thinkin’ about rubbin’ our head on the post, so to speak, and I was hopin’ you’d have some advice for us.”
Goldenstar’s fur bushed ever so slightly. “Me? Why me?”
“You’re a leader,” Schmidt said, brows furrowing. “You have experience governin’ a large group of cats very effectively. You were able to win both battles that were fought. Surely you must have some knowledge on the topic.”
Goldenstar swallowed thickly. “I mean… I have some experience,” she said, “but I’ve only been leader for about a year! And I’m not the leader of all of the Clans, there are three other leaders who I collaborated with to accomplish those things.” She felt like there were ants in her pelt. It took all of her effort not to squirm. “And besides, I had StarClan to guide me, I don’t-”
“Goldenstar,” Scorchplume said sharply and she fell silent at once. Scorch was right. This wasn’t the way she ought to present herself to a city cat, as some bumbling girl who had no clue what she was doing. She took a deep breath and tried to think about Scorchplume’s advice on speechcraft before she continued.
“What I mean to say,” she said, sitting a little taller, “is that my leadership is a collaborative effort. I learn as I lead just like the others learn from me. I’m not sure if I can help you with your ‘politics’. They seem very… cutthroat.”
“They are,” Schmidt sighed. “I understand. Thanks for listenin’ anyway.”
“What exactly did you want help with?” Goldenstar asked as sympathy washed over her. “I may not be very useful, but I suppose I can try.”
“Well, we’d like to get someone in power who cares more about the common cat, about doin’ what’s right,” said Schmidt. “We know now is the best time to make a move, what with the uncertainty about who’s most deserving and what not, but we aren’t sure which cat to rally behind or how to get cats to agree he or she should be in charge.”
“That sounds like your problem,” Scorchplume said bluntly. “I don’t know how you expected a Clan cat to be able to tell you that but we don’t have the time to stay and figure out what’s going on well enough to solve all your problems for you. We should be leaving, before someone comes to find us.”
Guilt pooled in the pit of her stomach at Scorch’s harsh words but she could see the reasoning. “I really am sorry,” she said, “but she’s right. We need to go home.”
“I understand,” Schmidt said again. “Apologies for keepin’ you so long.”
“That’s alright,” Goldenstar said. “I’m not sure if you’d like my blessings but I hope StarClan lights your path regardless.”
“Songdust has told me about them,” he said. “I’m most grateful.”
Goldenstar smiled. “And I’m grateful too. Thanks for watching out for her.”
“Don’t mention it,” he smiled back, a tinge of sadness in his gaze.
He started back towards the yard but Goldentstar paused for a moment to check on Scorchplume. Her eyes were closed tight, her breathing slow and labored, like she was holding back nausea. Her tail was still curled tightly around her paws but Goldenstar noticed the way her paws were kneading the dirt absently.
Casting a glance to make sure Schmidt wasn’t watching them, she leaned in and whispered to Scorchplume, “Hey, are you alright? What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” Scorchplume lied, clearly choking out the words. “I just want to get out of here and go home.”
“Alright,” Goldenstar said softly. “Just… let me know if you need anything, okay?” Scorch twitched an ear in response. Her own stomach churning with unease, Goldenstar slipped back out onto the grass.
“Ready to go?” called Branchbark when he saw them.
“Mhm,” she nodded. “Let’s get back to camp so Songdust can get some rest.” And so Scorchplume will feel better. She ran her eyes over her Clanmates, making sure they were all present and doing well. Songdust seemed forlorn, Branchbark eager to leave. Sparrowsway seemed irritated, his tail twitching at the tip, and Floodstrike was poorly hiding disappointment, although not as poorly as Luna who was pouting dramatically. Lastly, she looked at Scorchplume again, who seemed to be doing better, although Goldenstar noticed the distant look in her eyes, the kind of look that said “let me be anywhere but here.” It hurt to see, especially because she had no idea what had caused it.
“Do you really have to go?” asked Luna. “Maybe you could stay the night! There’s space in my garden.”
“No, we should go,” Songdust sighed. “Goodbye, Shepherd.” The big dog howled softly, licking Songdust’s face with his massive tongue. She cringed but stood firm instead of pulling back or being pushed over.
“I’ll walk you back,” said Jo. “Probably best if the others stay here, though.”
“Alright,” Schmidt said, tucking his paws neatly under himself as he sat down on the deck. “Safe travels, y’all.”
“Yeah, safe travels,” pouted Luna.
“It was nice to meet you both,” Goldenstar said. “You’re both welcome to visit any time.” Schmidt nodded but the smile on his face told her immediately that he didn’t plan on taking her up on her offer.
“Let’s go,” Songdust said, “I’m looking forward to-”
“Hold on,” a voice called across the lawn. Scorchplume immediately paled and Floodstrike hissed threateningly. Goldenstar whipped around to see Ghost appearing on the fence behind her. He looked absolutely terrible, his pelt a patchwork of scar flesh and his dark circled eyes sitting underneath two shredded ear stubs. Another cat leapt up beside him, a young she-cat who Goldenstar couldn’t help but think looked like Barleybee wearing Smokyrose’s fur.
Jo stepped up in front of the warriors, tail arched aggressively and hissed, “Fuck off, Ghost, you no good, piece of shit, dirt bag motherfucker!” Shepherd, feeding off her energy, snarled and barked at the newcomers. Goldenstar’s fur stood on end at the sound of it and she reminded herself, gratefully, that the terrifying beast was on her side.
Ghost looked less than pleased but not exactly afraid of the threats. “Easy, Jo, I’m just here to talk.”
Shepherd barked again, “Leave!”
“Yeah right,” Jo laughed. “You running an errand for that fish-faced fuck? Tell him he can choke on grapes, dickhead!” Goldenstar, overwhelmed by the number of strange profanities, barely registered that the old she-cat must have meant Sardine. So Ghost was working for Sardine now. That made sense although Goldenstar couldn’t deny she was disappointed.
“He’s serious,” the cat beside him said earnestly. “Please, hear him out!” Ghost cast her a look of appreciation before meeting Goldenstar’s eyes.
“I wanted to talk with you, honest,” he said. “About my daughters.” Goldenstar felt another rush of sympathy.
Floodstrike hissed, “They’re not your daughters, fox heart, they’re Smokyrose’s!” Ghost’s muzzle curled back in a soundless snarl.
Quickly, Goldenstar stepped forward and said, “Everyone calm down. I want to hear him out.”
“Goldenstar,” Scorchplume sounded like squeezing her voice out took a great deal of effort. “We need to go.”
“It’ll just be a second,” said Goldenstar. Bounding forward, she jumped up onto the fence beside Ghost. On his other side, the young grey cat smiled brightly at her and she couldn’t help but return the smile a bit. “What did you need to discuss?”
Ghost sighed and, with one last glance at Jo’s scowl, turned to focus on Goldenstar, saying, “I wanted to make sure that the girls are alright.”
“They are,” she replied softly. “I’m surprised that you wanted to know. If you wanted to see them you could have stopped by.” For the cat who had abandoned Smokyrose to her pregnancy, the cat Scorch had said did the same to all of his mates, this turn of events felt like it had come out of nowhere.
“That’s kind of you,” he huffed a laugh, “but I would have just made things more dangerous for them. Scorch was right when she sent me away.” Goldenstar frowned at that. When had Scorch done that? She glanced down at Scorch and found her sitting with her eyes shut and her ears pressed flat against her head again.
Ghost continued, “It was me that got Miss Smoke killed. I thought for a while that was my punishment for caring at all, that things would be better off if I forgot about them, but I can’t help but worry. I don’t even know their names and I feel terrible about it.” He sighed and shut his eyes. The cat beside him leaned up against him and purred reassuringly.
“Their names are Fogpaw and Slatepaw,” said Goldenstar, smiling gently. “Fogpaw looks exactly like you and Slatepaw looks exactly like her mother.”
“Oh,” Ghost said, throat working tightly. “And they’re alright? They’re not just safe, they’re… cared for?”
“Completely,” she assured him, leaning in to bump her forehead briefly against his. He startled at the touch, sorrowful eyes searching her face. “They’re growing into brave, kind young warriors.”
“That’s… good,” he said, looking away, towards the city behind them.
“Is there anything we can do to help them?” asked the she-cat. “It’s not safe to visit but if there’s something else, Ghost would like to help.” She looked at Ghost as if prompting him to say something they had rehearsed and he swallowed thickly.
“Right, yes,” he said, glancing between the two cats on the fence with him. “If I can help, just let me know.” The words sounded clumsy on his lips but he pushed through them regardless. Goldenstar was struck with the distinct impression that he was trying very hard and it only made her heart swell for him.
“Well,” she said, thinking, “the most important thing I can think of is getting the city cats to stop stealing our prey. It’s slowed down a bit but we’re still shortpawed. I know you’re important around here, is that something you could do?”
Ghost looked like she had asked him to eat deathberries, his scarred face heavy with despair. “I mean…” he shifted his weight uncomfortably. “It’s not so simple. The Exalted hunt for sport but the Chaff, my cats, they hunt to avoid starvation.”
“It would be very hard to convince them to stop,” the she-cat said solemnly.
“Maybe they don’t need to stop entirely,” Goldenstar said, an idea starting to spin in her head. “Even if they shifted where they were hunting and someone taught them how to preserve next year’s hunt then it wouldn’t be an issue really.”
“Next year’s hunt?” Ghost asked.
“There are certain rules we follow when we hunt to make sure that the prey can survive and breed until next year. It’s very important, not just for our continued survival but as a way to respect the blessings StarClan gives us. I could teach you if you wanted.”
“I don’t know,” Ghost sighed.
The she-cat leaned against him and said, in the way one might urge an uneasy apprentice, “I think it would be worth it to try, don’t you?” Goldenstar struggled to piece together what exactly was the nature of their relationship.
Ghost swallowed, searched his companion's face, and then said, wearily, “I suppose so.”
“Goldenstar,” Scorchplume spoke up, urgency creeping into her tone.
“Right,” Goldenstar looked down briefly, a pang of guilt in her belly. She’d been caught chattering like a queen at the border, holding up the whole patrol for hours with their gossiping. “We have to go. I know you can’t visit camp but maybe we could meet near the thunderpath some time to talk further.”
“Alright,” Ghost said. “You tell time by the moon, right? How about I meet you when it's halfway full?”
“That sounds perfect,” Goldenstar smiled. She dropped back down onto the grass and started north towards home. The cat sitting beside Ghost whispered something encouraging and he shut his eyes tiredly.
An idea struck Goldenstar suddenly and she paused to look at Schmidt. “Hey, Schmidt, if you’re looking for someone with leadership experience who might be interested in changing the way things are run here, I think Ghost would be an excellent cat to talk to.”
“What?” Ghost opened his eyes in surprise.
“Him?” Jo gawked. “The ‘I Don’t Make The Rules, I Just Enforce ‘Em’ fuck?” She lashed her tail, glaring at him and he scowled in her direction.
“Yes,” Goldenstar said. “I think you two could work very well together.”
“Well, I guess I could ask him a few things,” Schmidt said carefully.
“Change sounds good, doesn’t it?” the she-cat urged Ghost gently. “Isn’t that what we’ve been talking about?”
“Mm,” Ghost looked askance. Jo huffed, vindicated.
“Just give it a try,” Goldenstar said. “Now, let’s go. I’ve stalled us long enough.”
“Right,” Jo said. “This way.” As she stepped away, she said, “You keep eyes on that fucker, Shepherd.” The dog boofed at Ghost in affirmation. The warriors hurried up over the fences, back towards their territory. Scorch sighed in relief once the yard was behind them, visibly relaxing her posture.
“Are you alright?” Goldenstar said softly as they followed behind Jo.
“Yes,” Scorch said, and this time Goldenstar believed her a bit. “It was nothing, really. I’m fine now.”
“Do you want to talk about it later?” frowned Goldenstar.
“It’s nothing, Goldie,” Scorch laughed from behind her mask. “Really, I’d prefer if we just forgot about it, yeah?”
“Yeah, alright,” Goldenstar agreed. Whatever makes her happy, she decided. Brushing her tail against Scorch’s leg for a second, she focused on the path ahead, eager to get away from the noise and heat and “politics” of the city.
Month 17 - Greenleaf
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Songdust was snoozing in her hideyhole when the news arrived.
“Schmidt! Schmidt!” Luna’s cheery voice sounded almost frenzied as she crested the fence and dropped into the yard. Songdust stirred with a yawn.
“Luna!” boomed the massive white dog, Shepherd, in his thick canine accent, rattling the deck above Songdust’s head as he bounded out to meet the newcomer. That definitely woke her up. Stretching, she crept to the edge of the shadowy space beneath the deck and squinted out into the midday sunlight.
Luna, little thing that she was, had balked at Shepherd’s advance and eyed him warily as he snuffled gently at her. Songdust couldn’t blame her. It didn’t matter that he was friendly, the fluffy white beast was intimidating by virtue of his size alone.
“Luna,” he barked again, “Hello, Luna!”
“Yes, hello, Shepherd,” the little kittypet tried to smile. Speaking loudly and clearly to make sure the dog understood, she asked, “Where is Schmidt?”
“Schmidt?” The dog lifted his head and sniffed at the air a bit. “Hmm. Inside, I think. I get him.” With that, he dashed back across the yard and over the deck. Songdust shut her eyes and pressed her ears flat until he was gone. When she opened her eyes again, Luna was slinking excitedly in her direction, ears perked brightly.
“Afternoon, Songdust!” she whispered. “Guess what!”
“What?” Songdust chuckled, stepping out from under the deck and stretching her aching legs.
Luna’s eyes glistened as she said, “There are wild cats in the city!”
“Really?” Songdust’s stomach fluttered with fear and excitement. “Did you see them?”
“Mhm,” Luna grinned.
“How many of them?”
“Um, four or five?” Luna sat down and curled her tail sweetly around her paws. “Jo should be going to fetch them.” Songdust nodded to herself. If any cat could handle it, it would probably be Jo.
The dog flap clattered and Shepherd emerged again, tail wagging. Slipping between his legs and striding out across the deck was Schmidt, his sleek ginger fur shining in the sun like flames. He glanced at Songdust when he noticed her, a smile flickering over his lips, before he focused entirely on Luna.
“You needed me?” he asked with a charming twang. Shepherd paced a few steps beside them before settling down to lay in the grass and pant. Songdust shifted to better hide herself behind his massive shape.
“There’s wild cats in the city!” Luna whispered. Schmidt’s composed expression burst with surprise.
“Really?” he asked and Songdust would have laughed if she were certain the motion wouldn’t make her sick to her stomach. “Where’re they goin’?”
“I ran into Jo on the way,” Luna said. “They should be coming here if she can find them in time.”
“Good,” Schmidt nodded. “Thank you, Luna.” His tail tip started to twitch side to side.
“They’ve got to be looking for me, right?” Songdust asked.
“I would say that’s a pretty safe bet,” he said, looking up from the grass to meet her gaze. “Looks like you might be goin’ home, Miss Songdust.” His lips tightened at the edges and she felt it too, the relief and excitement tempered bittersweet with sorrow at having to say goodbye.
“Looks like it.” She offered him a tight smile of her own.
“Too bad you can’t come and visit,” Luna said.
“Miss you,” huffed Shepherd sadly.
“You can always come and visit me,” Songdust said, “although, I guess, Shepherd probably can’t get away.” Luna and Schmidt exchanged a somber glance that didn’t sit right with her. Shifting her posture, she asked, “What, is there a reason why you can’t visit? You aren’t trapped in your houses or anything.”
“It’s complicated,” Schmidt sighed. “Physically, we probably could come out to see you, but it’d be very dangerous.”
“We’ll have targets on our backs,” Luna said.
Songdust pursed her lips in frustration. “What, so we’ll just never see each other again? Not even on occasion?”
Schmidt dropped his gaze to the grass. “I wish it weren’t so, but at least for now, this seems like goodbye.”
“Hm.” Songdust squared her jaw and nodded, her tongue working forcefully against the backs of her teeth. If that was how things were going to be, then that was that, she figured.
“Hopefully, in a few months -” Schmidt tried, “maybe a year - things’ll be better and we’ll be able to visit.”
“That’s alright,” Songdust twitched an ear to stop him. “I get it. It just isn’t meant to be.” Shepherd leaned his big black nose over her back and gave a forlorn huff. She tried not to stiffen under the dog’s touch but couldn’t stop her tail from bristling subtly.
Schmidt cleared his throat and said, “I’m gonna go see if I can spot ‘em,” before making his way towards the fence with a poorly hidden guilty expression. Luna frowned awkwardly and followed after him.
Songdust was ashamed to say she was angry with them. She understood that they probably had very good reason to be cautious but it didn’t make her any less disappointed that they weren’t even going to try. That’s what I get for making friends with kittypets, she thought despite the guilty aftertaste.
Still, she’d expected better, at least from Schmidt. When he had taken her in, she had been very frazzled and lost in more ways than one and his kindness and solidity had carried her through the last several months. He had proven a thoughtful and enjoyable companion. She had spent more than one night staying up with him, discussing their lives and the ways they saw the world and she had enjoyed it greatly. He had listened to her speak about StarClan and seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say - not just a considerate attention but a real, genuine fascination and maybe even the beginnings of a belief. She wondered now if he would think about her when he looked at the stars or if he would go back to ignoring them.
She hated how hidden the stars were from her here. It seemed as if her ancestors had vanished from the sky overnight. The big bright star to the north was the only one she could see on some nights. She hoped that it was Smokyrose, watching over her from above. She hoped that Smokyrose had forgiven her for what had happened. She hoped she would get to apologize someday.
After some time, Luna called, “There they are! I see them!”
Songdust jumped to her feet, startling Shepherd, and sprinted over, scaling the fence in a swift, fluid motion. “Where?”
“Songdust!” Schmidt gasped. She wasn’t supposed to climb the fence in case anyone saw her, but at this point, she didn’t care.
“Where are they?” she asked again, ignoring him.
“They just dropped into that yard over there,” pointed Luna. Songdust chattered in anticipation as she turned her head to scan the fences ahead of them. After another few moments, Jo appeared on top of the fence and, following right after her, an almost identical tortoiseshell. Songdust laughed in relief.
“That’s Goldenstar,” she said and stood up taller to wave her tail at the newcomers.
“Really?” Luna gasped. “Your leader?”
“Yep!” purred Songdust. Goldenstar had noticed her and started sprinting in her direction as more cats came over the fence.
“You must be important,” mumbled Luna in awe.
“Not particularly,” Songdust shrugged.
“Songdust!” Goldenstar called as she reached the base of the fence they were on. “You’re alright!”
“So are you!” Songdust purred. Goldenstar leapt up to meet her and the fence wobbled under her weight, causing all four cats to sink their claws into the wood.
“Why don’t we have this conversation in the yard,” Schmidt laughed nervously and Luna nodded in agreement before they both dropped down. Goldenstar stayed where she was, tail brushing up.
“Wait!” she hissed urgently, "There's a dog!” Shepherd squinted up at her, rumbling lowly.
Songdust chuckled a little bit and said, “It’s alright, watch.” She hopped down onto the grass and padded up to the dog, butting her forehead against his leg to claim him. “It’s okay, Shepherd,” she said, “These are my friends.”
“Friends?” Shepherd hummed and shuffled his paws.
Goldenstar was wide eyed. “It understands you?” Before Songdust could answer, more cats were appearing on the fence. She smiled at the sight of Branchbark and Oddstripe’s boys. Even Scorch was a welcome sight.
“Songdust!” Branchbark grinned and jumped down into the yard to approach her. Purring loudly, she nuzzled against him in greeting.
“It’s good to see you, Branchbark,” she said gently.
“Woah,” Sparrowpaw fluffed up. “What is that thing?”
“A dog,” Goldenstar said. “Apparently this one is friendly though.”
“Mhm. He’s a big softie,” Songdust laughed, looking up at them. She had been worried too when she had first been brought to the yard but now it was funny to think of Shepherd as anything other than a massive sweetheart.
“He won’t bite,” said Jo, hopping up beside them. “Go on. You’ll be safer once you're in the yard.” Floodpaw swallowed and jumped down, his brother close behind. Goldenstar glanced at Scorchplume, smiled, and hopped down as well. Scorchplume squinted at Shepherd for a long moment before delicately landing on the grass beside her, pulling herself together with regal bearing. Once everyone else had gone down, Jo cast another glance around and then joined them.
“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Goldenstar said, coming to rub up against Songdust’s shoulder. “We would have come sooner but there were… complications.”
“Complications?” Songdust asked.
“Russetfrond got a kittypet pregnant,” Branchbark whispered conspiratorially. “It was a whole thing.”
“Really?” Songdust smirked. “Him, of all people? I wouldn’t have seen that coming.”
“Neither did he,” snickered Floodpaw.
“Hey,” hissed Sparrowpaw softly.
“Sorry, Sparrowpaw,” she said, “I don’t mean to make fun of him. I just wouldn’t have guessed.”
“It’s actually Sparrowsway now,” he said, shifting his posture a little taller.
“And I’m Floodstrike,” said his brother, grinning.
Songdust melted, smiling. “Oh, that’s fantastic! Congratulations, boys.” She closed her mouth as if she were holding the grief at having missed their ceremony on her tongue. They had grown so much while she was gone. She could only imagine how Slatekit and Fogkit had grown. Those poor girls…
“You’re Goldenstar?” Schmidt asked, inserting himself into the conversation. Songdust had nearly forgotten the kittypets were there. Looking back, she noticed Luna’s wide, excitable grin before focusing on Schmidt. His expression was serious, concerned. Songdust frowned a bit.
“I am,” said Goldenstar, putting on an authoritative tone. “Who are you?”
“This is Schmidt,” Songdust said. “He’s been hiding me. And that’s Luna, a friend of ours.”
“Hi,” Luna said, fluttering her eyelashes at Sparrowsway and Floodstrike. Oh boy, Songdust thought. Luckily, Schmidt spoke again before Luna could start anything.
“I’d love to speak with you, if that’s alright,” he said. “I doubt I’ll get another chance to bend your ear and I’d very much like to discuss politics if you’re so inclined.”
“Politics…?” Goldenstar raised a brow, unsure, and glanced at Songdust. Songdust, for her part, wasn’t sure how to explain it.
“It’s, um,” Scorchplume seemed to blink out of some sort of fugue state as she spoke, “It’s what they call the… art of governance and diplomacy. Like Clan relations but more complicated.” She cleared her throat, gaze roving distantly over the grass. Songdust frowned. That didn’t seem normal.
Goldenstar’s ears pressed back with concern. “Are you alright?” She leaned in for a split second and then stopped herself and Songdust raised a brow at that. There was clearly something going on that she didn’t understand.
“I’m fine,” Scorch said tersely. “We should take him up on his offer.” She looked at Schmidt with what seemed like a good deal of effort, jaw set resolutely.
“Alright then,” Goldenstar shifted worriedly but eventually tore her gaze away from Scorchplume to address Schmidt directly. “I’m all yours.”
“Great,” Schmidt said. “Why don’t we head under the deck for some privacy.”
“The deck?” asked Floodstrike.
“This a’way,” Schmidt stepped away and led the way into the dark crawl space underneath. Goldenstar followed directly behind him and a beat later Scorch trailed after her.
Sparrowsway glanced at the other cats and asked, “Should we all go, or…”
“Go for it,” said Jo. “Or don’t. Do what you like.”
“Politics is stressful and boring,” Luna said, edging closer to the boys. “I’d love to hear about your Wild Clans though.” Songdust raised a brow but Jo beat her to the punch.
“Oh, really?” asked Jo. “I’ve never seen you askin’ Songdust about the Clans.” Songdust chuckled and twitched her ear in Jo’s direction.
Luna waved her tail dismissively but her cheeks were a little red as she said, “Well I just didn’t want to bother her.”
“Mhm,” Jo said skeptically and Songdust bumped shoulders with her which prompted her to grin and return the gesture.
“I’m gonna miss you, Jo,” Songdust said quietly as Floodstrike started saying something to Luna.
“Aww, that’s sweet of you, girl,” Jo said back. “I feel like they kept you so cramped under that deck that I never got to get to know you.”
“You should visit, then,” Songdust said. “I need more friends my age.”
“Maybe I will,” the ragged old tortie said with a sly smile. “I’ll bring you back whenever I need to shred some fuckin’ shithead’s ears.”
“Sounds like a plan,” purred Songdust. She was glad that at least one of her new friends seemed interested in staying in touch. Her gaze drifted over to the deck where Schmidt had disappeared and she sighed. If only they all felt that way.
UPDATES: - Songdust is reunited with her Clanmates!