#wrenfeather

[light-blooms]

Wrenfeather (left) and Wolfstar (right) from my Warrior Cats DND webseries, Rise of the Moon! Wolfstar is the leader of ThunderClan and Wrenfeather is his sister, and is also acting deputy while Tanglethorn is away on his journey.

You can tell her brother exhausts her. Look at her, she’s got crow’s feet.

[talonslockau]

Forest of Secrets - Chapter 4

Chapter 3 || Index || Chapter 5

The night of the Gathering felt as though it couldn’t arrive soon enough. Fireheart had agonized in the half-moon since Quickflash’s death, rehearsing the plan over and over in his head. And now that the evening had finally arrived, he felt a worried pit in his stomach that wouldn’t pass as he watched Tigerclaw enter Bluestar’s den. They were no doubt going to decide who would be going to the Gathering. He would never have a better chance than this. And yet…

“Are you alright?” He glanced at Graystripe beside him, who was crunching on the mouse that they were sharing. “You keep making weird faces. Surely the mouse isn’t that bad?”

He hesitated, trying to figure out the words he needed to explain what he was thinking to his close friend. “I need to go talk to Bluestar.”

“Now?” The dark gray warrior asked in confusion. “But she’s talking with Tigerclaw!”

“I know.” He responded with a sigh. “That’s why I need to go see her.” He shook his head and stood up. “You can finish the mouse, alright?”

His friend’s yellow eyes blinked slowly at him, before finally Graystripe nodded. “Just be careful, okay? You don’t want to give Tigerclaw reason to go after you…”

“I know. And I will.” He licked the other tom’s ear warmly before turning and beginning to trudge across camp. His paws felt like stone, but he forced them to move as he crossed the length of the clearing into the shadow of the Highrock.

The lichen strands dangled forebodingly in front of him, obscuring the cats inside. He could hear murmurs, but nothing more. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Bluestar?” He called out softly. “May I come in?”

There was a silent pause, and he worried for a moment that she would instantly deny him. “You may.” He heard the silver molly answer, and he let out the breath he’d been holding in relief. Carefully, he nosed his way through the lichen to stand inside the leader’s den.

Bluestar was sitting in her nest, while Tigerclaw sat beside her. The tom’s amber gaze was a furious glare at the sight of the young warrior, but Fireheart refused to be intimidated as he kept his eyes on the leader. “Fireheart. What can I do for you?” The regal queen asked, her blue gaze appraising his demeanor as he approached. “Has something happened?”

“No. I-I mean, not exactly.” He silently cursed himself for stuttering. Already, he was off to a great start. “I mean, what I wanted to ask was… if I could come to this moon’s Gathering?”

Her blue eyes narrowed slightly, but it was Tigerclaw that was the first to answer. “Going to the Gathering is a great honor for those who are chosen to go.” He all but snarled the words in Fireheart’s direction. “Not that I’d expect a kittypet to understand that.”

“Hush, Tigerclaw.” Bluestar gently rested the tip of her tail on his wide shoulder, and he gave it a bitter glare as Fireheart looked back to the wise leader. “It is true that it is rare for a warrior to ask to be allowed to go, but I assume that you have good reason to approach me with this request?”

“I do.” He took in another deep breath, mentally running through the speech he had been preparing since the day he had promised he would help all three young warriors to go to the Gathering. “Truthfully, I wanted to see how Windclan was doing. While we did help see them return to their home, I haven’t gotten the chance to see any of them since that day, nearly a moon ago now. I know we share a small length of border with them, but it’s rarely patrolled, and I haven’t run into any Windclan patrols when I’ve gotten the chance. I wanted to make sure they were doing well since their return.”

Tigerclaw huffed as he finally stopped speaking. “You sound awfully attached to Windclan.” The dark tabby tom observed. “A good warrior knows that his loyalty must always lie with his Clan first.”

“I am still loyal to Thunderclan!” Fireheart bristled at the accusation, unable to keep himself from responding. “I would never leave Thunderclan for Windclan! My home is here! But it was our mission to see Windclan safely return to the moors, and I want to know for sure that-”

“Enough.” He silenced at Bluestar’s command, forcing his fur to lie flat again. “Tigerclaw, you should know better than to question the loyalty of any of my warriors. I would not give them a warrior ceremony if I did not know whether their heart fully belonged to the code.” The deputy grimaced at her admonishment as she moved her gaze to the ginger tom. “As for you, Fireheart - are you suggesting you did not do an adequate job in your mission? Are you unsure as to whether Windclan truly did make it home?”

“No! Of course not.” Was that how it had sounded? He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. “But I don’t think that I can truly say that Windclan has returned home until Tallstar takes his rightful place alongside the other leaders on the Great Rock.”

“Hmm.” Her tail tip twitched at his words, but she seemed almost amused by his response. “Very well. I agree; you, Peppermask, and Graystripe shall all be allowed to come to the Gathering tonight.”

He let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t realize he’d been holding in, the tension fleeing from his muscles. It was only one step of the journey, but it was the most risky part nonetheless. “Thank you, Bluestar.” He replied, turning to leave.

“And Fireheart?” He glanced behind him to meet her gaze. “Don’t be expecting this privilege again. While I think that you all deserve it for your success in finding Windclan, you must prove yourself if you expect to show regularly at the Gathering.”

“Of course not!” He shook his head quickly. He wouldn’t dream of believing he deserved to go to the Gathering again for several moons. “I know that such a great privilege must be earned. I just- I wanted to see my mission through to the end. Thank you, Bluestar. Truly.” He turned back and gave her a small bow; he couldn’t have her thinking he was ungrateful for her blessing!

Her whiskers twitched in amusement at his display, and after a moment she flicked her tail for him to leave as she turned her attention back to Tigerclaw. “Now then, of course Mistspring will come to accompany Cinderpaw, but I think Willowbranch should stay behind. I worry that the loss of her mate will be too fresh for her to handle the rigor…”

He turned and left the den, feeling Tigerclaw’s burning gaze on him even after the lichen strands had fallen into place behind him. He strode back across the clearing to where Graystripe was waiting.

“Well?” He blinked and realized Peppermask was sitting in his spot now; he instead sat down on Graystripe’s other side, fur prickling as he felt the cold grass beneath him. “What did she say?”

“All three of us can go.” As soon as he said it, the spotted molly began purring in delight. “Tigerclaw lectured me, of course, but she was willing to hear me out. She did tell me not to expect any more favors, though.”

“Of course not.” Peppermask mewed in understanding. “I know why we need to go, but it’ll be nice to enjoy the Gathering while we’re there. I’ve been wondering how Morningflower has been doing with her kits.”

“I told her that’s why we wanted to go; to make sure Windclan is doing well.” He nodded to Graystripe beside him. “We should all try and make sure she sees us talking with Windclanners tonight, if we can.”

“Hey, I’ve been curious too. I wonder if that apprentice we spooked might be a warrior by now?” They purred at the memory of the white molly that they’d scared the fur off of when they first approached Windclan territory. “And it’ll be nice to meet the warriors when they’re not as stressed! Though Lionheart told me that they’re always a bit flighty; like the rabbits they hunt, and all that.”

“Who are the famous Windclan warriors?” Fireheart asked curiously as he eyed Bluestar’s den, waiting for her to come out and announce the Gathering patrol. “Besides Tallstar and Deadfoot, of course.”

“Well, they’re not really known for fighting much. I think the only Clan they really don’t get along with are Shadowclan.” Graystripe tilted his head back to look up at the sky as he pondered the question. “I hear Stagleap is their biggest warrior. They say he can jump across the gorge at the edge of Windclan territory! One-eye told me it’s as wide across as Fourtrees, and that if the Great Sycamore were planted at its base that the leaves wouldn’t even reach the top!”

Fireheart couldn’t even imagine a cat being able to jump from one side of Fourtrees to the other. Even without the Great Rock in the way, the hollow that contained the Great Oaks that represented the Clans was easily several treelengths in width at its shortest point. “I don’t think I could ever jump across that.” He mewed at last.

“I don’t think I’d want to! I already fell into the river once, I wouldn’t dare to do it with a fall from that height.” The two shivered at the memory of falling in the river, the inky blackness that had seemed impossible to escape. “Not even Riverclan patrols that stretch, I hear.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Peppermask mewed from beside her brother. “There’s also Tornear and Mudclaw. One-eye says that when there’s trouble at the Windclan border, it’s usually because of them.”

“I don’t think we saw any of them on the journey.” They had met so many cats, it was hard to remember them all. Still, the names didn’t seem familiar. “I guess we’ll see them at the Gathering, though.”

A flicker of doubt entered the young molly’s eyes as he said that, but she didn’t get the chance to respond as they heard a familiar yowl from the Highrock. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

Murmurs of excitement filled the crowd as the cats slipped out from where they were sharing tongues to congregate beneath their leader. “Tonight will be a Gathering to remember. Windclan has returned home at last.” Her eyes met Fireheart’s below her for a brief moment as she gazed out over the crowd. “I expect all cats to be on their best behavior as we welcome them back home. I doubt I need to remind any of you that the last thing we need this leafbare is a war with our most cordial neighbors.”

Nobody spoke up to disagree with her as she continued on. “Tonight, alongside Tigerclaw, Yellowfang, and Dewpaw, as well as any elders and queens who wish to make the journey, I will be bringing with me Lionheart, Whitestorm, Darkstripe, Mistspring, Peppermask, Graystripe, Fireheart, and Cinderpaw.” Each of the cats named stood proudly, honored to be called to go. “Tinyfrost will be in charge of camp while we are gone. Clan dismissed.”

He didn’t miss the flash of anger in Tigerclaw’s eyes at the former kittypet being placed in a position of relatively high esteem. Still, Fireheart couldn’t focus on that now. The Gathering was ahead of them: he had to be prepared.

He was surprised to have Cinderpaw pad up alongside him as they left camp, a vast change from how she had acted the previous Gathering patrol. “What’s Windclan like?” She asked him curiously. Windclan had been gone their entire apprenticeship; tonight would be the first time she saw them.

“They’re very tall and lanky.” The ginger tom recalled, thinking back to when he had left the Clan at Rabbitrocks. “Kind of like Longtail, but even taller. Even their apprentices are as tall as the average warrior.”

“What about their leader and deputy? Did you get to meet them? Does Deadfoot actually have a dead foot, or is that something One-eye made up to try and scare us?” Her stream of questions was all too familiar, and he glanced behind him to see Peppermask doing her best to hold back a smirk.

“Well, it’s hard for a foot to be dead if it’s still attached to someone living, isn’t it?” He retorted gently, whiskers twitching as her wide eyes narrowed into something resembling deep thought. “But he does have a twisted and useless foot. Not that you could tell, with how fast he runs.”

“Really?” Her ears perked forward curiously. “How does he do that?”

“I don’t know.” By the time that he had actually been able to spend time with the deputy, he had been more preoccupied with getting home. “I didn’t really think to ask him.”

“Pipe down back there.” He paused as he heard Tigerclaw’s growl echo down the line. “The other Clans can hear you all the way from Fourtrees!”

“Sorry.” Cinderpaw replied, giving him a mischievous glance before hurrying up the patrol line to her mentor. They traveled the rest of the way to the Gathering in silence, Fireheart trying to keep his mind from wandering too much as they did.

It felt like ages before they finally reached the log bridge over the river. The sight of it made the ginger tom shiver: he remembered all too well the plunge he had taken with Graystripe on their return from Windclan territory. He tried not to let the memory visibly show on his face as he waited his turn to cross.

Tigerclaw sat at the log’s mostly destroyed roots, patiently watching each cat cross. “Fireheart.” He growled as the ginger tom approached. “Best be careful crossing. We wouldn’t want to have to fetch Riverclan to fish you out again.”

The fur on his spine bristled at the fake concern. How had Tigerclaw heard about that? Then again, he supposed that the tale had gone around camp fairly quickly when he had been absent from the warriors’ den that night. Sometimes, it seemed as though it were impossible to keep any secret hidden from the Clan for long. 

“I won’t, thank you.” He snapped, jumping up on the smooth wood and digging his claws in carefully. It would take longer, but he wasn’t about to be the laughingstock of the Gathering. He made each pawstep carefully, making sure he had at least one clawhold in the wood before moving a paw. 

He was halfway across when the log shifted beneath him, one of his back paws sliding off the slick wood. His heart lurched as he dug his claws in deeper, suddenly afraid that the log would roll more and he would fall into the river. 

Thankfully, he was able to keep his balance, though his heart pounded in his ears as he continued carefully across. “What’s the hold up, Fireheart?” He heard Tigerclaw’s yowl and grit his teeth, not daring to look back until he was all the way across.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of the river, now.” He heard Darkstripe’s mocking voice as he landed on the other side. He looked up with a glare, ready to defend himself, but a look from Bluestar silenced him.

“The river has claimed many lives since the dawn of the Clans, Darkstripe. I would rather have a living warrior that respected it than a dead one that boldly believed himself too mighty to fear it.” He was surprised to have Bluestar come to his defense, but a glance at her told him that she was deadly serious. He recalled that Graystripe had once told him that her kits had died before their sixth moon; he suddenly wondered if perhaps they had drowned near the river, and that was the reason for the gravity of her words.

He didn’t get the chance to ask as Tigerclaw landed beside him. “That’s everyone, Bluestar.” He informed his leader with a small bow. The false display of respect made his lip curl in disgust, but he did his best to suppress it: after all, Darkstripe was right there and might notice it.

“Very well then.” She stood and beckoned the patrol to follow her to the top of the rise. As they then crouched at the edge of the hollow, Fireheart could see Tallstar and Crookedstar talking to each other on the Great Rock, with their deputies below them; it seemed that Shadowclan would be the last to arrive. He waited patiently for Bluestar’s signal as he watched the two Clans mingling between the roots of the Great Oaks.

Fireheart wasn’t sure that he would ever get tired of the feeling of descending down the slope of Fourtrees with the rest of the Clan. It was a moment like no other he had ever experienced: running as one, the rhythm of their paws on the ground like a rolling wave of thunder. Then each cat split off as they reached the larger crowd, finding their way to old friends to gossip and boast.

Peppermask was already making her way towards the queens, where he could see Morningflower chatting with a Riverclanner he didn’t recognize. The young warrior glanced at Graystripe beside him. “What’s your plan?” He asked his friend curiously.

The large gray tom was scanning the crowd. “I think I’m going to go try to find Silverstream or Mistyskip. If they’re here, I’m sure they’ll be boasting about fishing us out, and we can’t let that go uncountered.” He barely glanced at the ruddy tom. “See you later!”

“Yeah, later.” It felt strange to see them leave so easily, but he supposed that they were warriors now; they were allowed to mingle on their own. He scanned the crowd, all too cognizant of the task at hand, and finally spotted a group of Windclanners he recognized vaguely from the journey. He trotted over, tail held high in greeting.

“Fireheart!” A young white molly welcomed him, and he recognized her as the apprentice that they’d spooked nearly a moon ago. “I was wondering if any of our heroes would come to the Gathering tonight.” She nudged a skinny gray tom next to her with a wry grin.

“All three of us are here.” He replied with a friendly nod to the other tom. “It’s Whitepaw, isn’t it? I’m sorry about scaring you so badly when we first met.”

“Aw, I wasn’t scared.” The apprentice scoffed. “I could’ve taken you on if I wanted to. I just wanted to make sure that the Clan got my catch, is all.”

He glanced at her fellow apprentices, who seemed to have heard this before. “If you say so.” He mewed at last. There was no point in revealing that she was lying: he knew the truth, and so would any warrior that thought about it for more than a moment. “How are you all doing? Is prey running well in Windclan?”

“Of course! We’re catching so much prey, even though it’s almost leafbare!” Whitepaw boasted proudly. “In fact, I’m doing so well, Tallstar will probably make me a warrior within the moon!” 

“I'm looking forward to hearing about it.” Fireheart purred, moments before movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Heads turned to look up as around a dozen or so cats came streaming down into the hollow. It seemed Shadowclan had arrived. “Enjoy your first Gathering back home, then.” He mewed, taking the opportunity to quickly excuse himself.

He mingled among the crowd as Shadowclan joined them, watching Nightstar, Wolfstep and Wetnose push their way through to the Great Rock. Never before had he seen all the leaders, deputies, and healers in one place: He marveled at how busy the Great Rock seemed now that they were all on it. When he had first seen it, the Great Rock had been impossibly huge: now, it looked as though it barely fit all the leaders and deputies, let alone the healers surrounding the base.

He made his way over to where Peppermask was sitting with the queens, including Morningflower. “Fireheart!” The tortoiseshell molly purred upon catching sight of him. “It’s wonderful to see you again.” She mewed as he took a seat beside his fellow Thunderclan warrior.

“And you as well.” He replied smoothly, giving her a respectful nod. “How are your kits doing, now that they’re in the nursery?”

Her blue eyes glowed at the mention of her kits. “Oh, they’ve become such pawfuls! I take my eyes off of them for one moment, and they’re already sneaking out of camp! If it weren’t for Ashfoot agreeing to watch them tonight, I don’t think I would have been able to come.”

There were purrs and mews of laughter at her words. “Kits can never get out of the nursery too soon.” A brown tabby queen from Riverclan mewed. “It’s a wonder we’re able to keep them contained until their sixth moon!”

“Yes, I can hardly wait for the day to come myself. It won’t be long now until they’re apprentices.” Morningflower replied fondly. “I often wonder who Tallstar will pick to mentor them. Especially Gorsekit; he’ll need our quickest warrior to keep up with him!”

“It’s lovely to hear your kits are doing so well.” Fireheart purred warmly as he glanced over at Peppermask. “It was an honor to be able to escort them safely.”

Whatever reply the Windclan queen might have had was drowned out by a loud yowl from the Great Rock. The crowd turned as one to see the four leaders standing proudly above them, the moon silhouetting each of them as they looked down at their combined warriors.

“Warriors of the four Clans!” Tallstar was the one to address them now. “The night may be young, but I am not. These old bones cannot stand the chill of leafbare winds for very long.” There were murmurs of amusement at the Windclan leader’s joke. “And so, I would like to ask to begin now, so that we all might return to our warm nests sooner than later.”

There was good-natured grumbling as the crowd began to take their seats around the Great Rock. Fireheart perked his ears and scanned the crowd for Graystripe, expecting him to come sit near his sister and his best friend, but instead he spotted the large gray tom sitting comfortably next to a familiar silver molly. The two were huddled together for warmth, their long furs tangling together as Graystripe leaned closer and whispered something into Silverstream’s ear.

He didn’t get to reflect on it for very long as Tallstar stepped forward. “I am honored to be able to speak to you all once again.” He mewed, his voice reverberating through the hollow as though Starclan themselves were echoing his words. “Windclan has once again returned to the moors, and I promise now to all the Clans and Starclan themselves that we will never again leave our sacred home.”

There were yowls of encouragement from the Windclan cats in the crowd, and Fireheart quickly added his voice as well. The black and white leader gazed down proudly, his golden eyes seeming to catch the Thunderclan tom’s green ones before looking back out at the crowd. “I would like to thank Thunderclan and its skilled warriors for their help as well. They have upheld our noble code with humility and wisdom, and Starclan surely smiles upon them for it.”

Fireheart’s ears perked in surprise at the acknowledgement. Not even Nightstar had acknowledged how Thunderclan had helped them drive out Brokentail, a much greater threat. How would the other Clans think of his admission? Would they think Windclan weak?

“All the Clans sought to bring your Clan back, Tallstar.” Nightstar spoke, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “Not just Thunderclan.”

The ginger tom side-eyed the gray molly next to him. “Some more than others, as I recall.” He mumbled to her.

“Hush, you.” Peppermask replied, gently swatting him with her tail, though he could see her whiskers twitching in amusement nonetheless.

“I am glad to hear it.” Tallstar responded evenly. “The forest will never be whole so long as one of its Clans is missing. Brokentail dishonored Starclan themselves by driving out Windclan: It is most welcome to hear that Shadowclan’s new leader would never do such a thing.”

The black Shadowclanner’s tail bristled at that, but he didn’t seem keen to reply. Tallstar eyed him for a moment longer before continuing. “Windclan returns stronger than ever now. The moors have flourished with our return, and Starclan themselves have blessed us with plenty of prey and many eager warriors to survive the coming leafbare.” He looked down proudly on his warriors. “We also have two new apprentices this moon; Birdpaw, apprentice to Wrenfeather, and Lionpaw, apprentice to Oatskip.”

He searched the crowd for the named mentors, finally spotting a pale ginger tabby tom standing proudly next to a dusky brown molly. There were no apprentices next to them; he supposed it was understandable that they would still be considered too young to be allowed the privilege of attending their first Gathering.

The Windclan leader stepped back, his piece apparently said. After a moment, Nightstar stepped forward. “Shadowclan is glad to hear prey is running just as well in Windclan territory as in its own.” The black tom announced. Fireheart flicked an ear at that; at the last Gathering, the Shadowclan leader had been very insistent on the Clan’s need for the moors to feed themselves. And now they were supposed to believe that the Clan was doing better even as leafbare arrived?

Still, none would dare question it as Nightstar continued. “Shadowclan also has new apprentices this moon. Brownpaw, apprenticed to Scorchflash; Applepaw, apprenticed to Rowanberry; Marshpaw, apprenticed to Flintspark; and Littlepaw, apprenticed to Frogtail. They are some of Shadowclan’s greatest warriors, and I am certain that under their tutelage these apprentices will become a promising new generation for our Clan.”

Polite, congratulating mews spread throughout the crowd as the four named warriors stood proudly. Scorchflash was a ginger tom with a broad head and flat face, similar to Yellowfang, but Flintspark had a thick gray pelt that he had by now come to associate with the Shadowclan healer. Frogtail looked a bit like Darkstripe with his black striped pelt, while Rowanberry was an older tortoiseshell molly that sat proudly with glittering green eyes. They were a diverse group, though he noticed many of them were beginning to get graying muzzles like Nightstar and most elders.

“It is with a heavy heart that I announce that Crowtalon and Archtail, two of our elders, passed in their sleep less than a quarter moon ago.” Fireheart closed his eyes mournfully as the black tom spoke. He had taken care of the two cantankerous elders for several moons, and while they had clearly reached the end of their lifespan it was sad to hear of their deaths nonetheless. “Brackenfoot and Blizzardwing, two of our finest warriors, have joined the other elders in their stead. Brightflower has also left the nursery to join the elders’ den as well.”

The crowd talked amongst themselves briefly, remembering past battles with the new elders, as Nightstar stepped back into line with the other leaders. Bluestar was the next to step forward. “Thunderclan happily welcomes Windclan home. Our warriors, Fireheart, Peppermask, and Graystripe, spoke fondly of the journey, and it is my sincerest hope that they served you as well as they have served my Clan.” 

Tallstar nodded agreeably at the molly’s words, but didn’t speak any further as she continued. “Indeed, Starclan seems to have blessed us with good prey and good weather. Thunderclan can only thank them for their kindness, and pray that they see fit to give us a mild leafbare.” She gazed down at the crowd for a moment before turning her attention to where the deputies sat. “Sadly, our deputy Quickflash was killed defending our borders. I have named Tigerclaw deputy in his stead.”

There were curious murmurs throughout the crowd, and Fireheart pressed into Peppermask’s side as he felt her shiver with grief. “Didn’t Thunderclan just lose their deputy mere seasons ago?” He heard a cat mew nearby. “Strange that they claim to have Starclan’s favor, but can’t seem to keep their deputies alive.”

He whipped around, ready to give whoever had said it a piece of his mind, but he couldn’t tell who had said it, and so forced himself to turn back around and look back up as Crookedstar stepped forward. “May he find peace in Starclan.” The large tabby murmured, looking briefly to the sky. “Riverclan has also lost two of our elders this past moon, Fallowtail and Echomist. They served us faithfully for many moons, and we thank them for their service as they now watch over us in Starclan.”

There were sad murmurs at this news, but it didn’t seem unexpected: Perhaps they had also been very old, like Archtail and Crowtalon. “Nevertheless, the late leafbare has ensured that Riverclan still benefits from the bounty of the river. Our warriors are strong and noble; I pity any cat that dares to challenge them.” There were encouraging yowls from the Riverclanners in the crowd, and Crookedstar gave them a lopsided smirk as he looked down at them.

A cold wind blustered through the hollow, and each cat shivered as they looked up at the four leaders. “It seems it is time for this Gathering to come to an end.” Tallstar mewed as Crookedstar stepped back. “May Starclan light all of our paths until the next full moon.”

“May Starclan light our paths.” The crowd echoed as one. The leaders and deputies jumped off the rock, beginning to find their ways to the roots of the four Great Oaks that represented their Clans. Fireheart glanced at Peppermask, his heart racing. Now, in the confusion, would be their time to slip away.

They slipped into the shadow of the Great Rock, where none seemed to notice them as they found their way to their Clans’ patrol. It wasn’t long until Graystripe joined them. “Ready?” Fireheart asked his friends softly, shielding his bright fur with theirs as best he could.

“Actually.” He blinked in surprise as Graystripe spoke up beside him. “I’m not feeling well tonight. That mouse we were sharing must have been bad after all. Is it alright if you two go without me?”

He hesitated, glancing at Peppermask. “I- I suppose so.” He finally replied. “But-”

“Thanks, Fireheart.” The large tom mewed appreciatively. “Don’t worry: I’ll help Tinyfrost cover for you with Tigerclaw and Bluestar.”

Peppermask looked doubtfully on her brother. “Tell them that I scented a rabbit warren near the border, and took Fireheart with me to check it out.” She finally told him. “I’ll see if I can’t catch something on the way back.”

“I will. See you later.” With that, he trotted across the clearing towards the Thunderclan patrol, tail held high.

Fireheart frowned as he watched his friend go. “He doesn’t look very sick.” He whispered to the gray tabby beside him. “Remember when he had too many mice at Barley’s? He could barely walk straight!”

She shrugged slowly, careful not to make too much movement and draw eyes towards them. “He probably just doesn’t want to look sick in front of the other Clans. Would you let enemy warriors know you were ill?”

She had a point, and Fireheart slowly nodded in understanding. “I suppose I wouldn’t.”

“Come on. The Windclan patrol’s already left. If we stick to the Thunderpath, we shouldn’t be spotted.” Carefully, they moved around the Great Rock and dashed past Windclan’s oak, taking the now familiar trail towards Barley’s farm. Fireheart shivered as they ran, though he didn’t know if it was from the cold wind that blew past them or from fear of what Ravenspirit might tell them.

[talonslockau]

Fire and Ice - Chapter 54

< Chapter 53 || Index || Chapter 55 >

The rain was starting to fall as Ravenspirit led them into an overgrown field that clearly hadn’t been touched by Twolegs in moons, if not seasons. In one messy corner, surrounded by brambles and nettles, a half-destroyed wooden Twoleg nest was precariously leaning. Several pieces had fallen out, or broken in half, and the roof had partially collapsed. It looked just as the former Thunderclanner had promised.

“Are you sure it’s safe in the storm?” Tallstar asked doubtfully as he stared up at it.

“It’s weathered several harsh storms since I’ve been here without changing.” The black loner replied as he waved them over to the entrance, wide and gaping now that the large door had fallen to the ground. “Besides, the mice love it. Every time I’m in here, I kill one and two more appear!”

Fireheart purred warmly at the thought. It must be nice to have such a feast at your clawtips, though he knew that it was only because of the Twolegs that any of this was here at all. “Sounds like we have some work to do, then!” He replied as he strode confidently into the nest, hoping that it would show the Windclanners they had nothing to fear.

The inside fared little better than the outside. The ground was covered in loose piles of dried grass, though some new growth was beginning to poke its way up through the debris. Moss and mushrooms grew on the walls inside, and a few holes in the roof allowed a steady trickle of water inside. Still, he could tell Ravenspirit was right; all around him he could hear the scurrying of little feet, and from the look on the Windclanner’s faces, they were hearing the same.

Tallstar was doing his best not to salivate as he looked around. “This will be alright for the time being.” He admitted slowly. “The queens and elders will stay here for now. Deadfoot-?”

“Right away, Tallstar.” The deputy mewed, turning and beginning to assign sections of the barn to patrols. The cats bounded away eagerly, any trepidation at being in a Twoleg nest gone at the thought of finally sating their hunger.

Ravenspirit purred at the sight. “Maybe now we’ll be able to get this part of the farm under control!” He exclaimed before turning to the remaining cats. “I’m going to go fetch Barley. He’ll be pleased to hear the news that Windclan is returning home!” With that, the loner departed, leaving the Thunderclanners alone with Tallstar.

“A good fellow.” The Windclan leader commented. “I can see now why you vouched for him.”

“He’s a good cat. He understands our way of life, and respects it - and Starclan.” Fireheart mewed quickly. “I’m sure if he had the chance, he would have fought like a warrior alongside us to drive Brokentail out.”

“As would we.” Tallstar replied as he watched his warriors hunting in the fallen grass. “It will be nice to have Raven on our borders. A friendly face in these troubled times, as it were.”

The ginger tom nodded quietly. “Indeed.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Tallstar shook his pelt out. “So! Tell me, what else has transpired while Windclan has been gone? Do Bluestar and Crookedstar still lead?”

All three of them nodded. “Our dad, Quickflash, is Bluestar’s deputy now, and Leopardflame is now Crookedstar’s deputy.” Graystripe added as he sat down with a thump. “And… Yellowfang is our healer now, with her apprentice Dewpaw, our sister.” He looked down at his feet as he spoke of them. “Spottedleaf… Brokentail’s rogues killed her.”

“A healer?” Tallstar flattened his ears. “Despicable.” After a moment, he shook his head, trying to brighten up. “I do remember Quickflash being named deputy. I had wondered what his youth might mean for Thunderclan. I think now that if he is half the warrior his children are, it will mean a bright era for your Clan.”

All three of the Thunderclanners purred at that. “I’m sure he will be pleased to hear that, coming from you.” Peppermask mewed warmly as she nudged her brother. “We like to think he’s been doing well.”

“And what about you?” The Windclan leader asked, turning to Fireheart. “I have to say, your coat is… quite unusual, among the Clans. Who are your parents?”

The young warrior winced a bit at that. He could only imagine what Tallstar might think of him if he realized the tom had once been a kittypet. “I come from outside the Clans.” He admitted at last. “But I’ve been part of Thunderclan since I was six moons old.”

“And they are lucky to have you.” He was surprised at the warmth which Tallstar regarded him with. “Some of the finest cats I know weren’t Clanborn. There are those amongst the Clans that think being born in the forest is what makes a warrior, but I know better. Why, if it wasn’t for-”

He was interrupted by a loud cry behind them, and they turned to see Ravenspirit and Barley approaching, the rain running off their pelts as they came inside. “Tallstar.” Barley dipped his head respectfully to the other tom. “It’s good to see you again. I’m glad to hear you’re returning to the moors; it’s where Windclan belongs.”

“I agree.” The leader replied, dipping his head in greeting as well. “I must thank you and Raven here for your hospitality. Thanks to you, my Clan will be warm and fed tonight.”

The black and white loner twitched his ear at his companion’s name. “Of course, Tallstar. Anytime we can help the Clans, we will.” His lip curled into a smirk. “Though I have to say, you’re really doing us the favor. The mice here run rampant all over the farm, but we never have enough time or paws to catch them all!”

“So Raven said.” The Windclanner replied, his whiskers twitching in mild amusement. They looked on at the freshkill pile the warriors were assembling before them as they caught mouse after mouse underneath the grass. “Still, we’ll be out of your fur when the morning comes. We have our own camp to return to.”

“Of course.” Barley dipped his head smoothly in acknowledgement. “Would you mind if I lend your warriors a paw? I haven’t caught my own dinner yet tonight.”

“Of course not! It’s your farm, after all.” Tallstar responded as he got up and stretched out. “In fact… I believe it would do me some good to hunt as well. My paws have spent enough time idle.”

Fireheart copied him before springing forward. “I think I’ll join you.” He replied smoothly, flicking his tail for the two Thunderclan siblings and Raven to join him. They did so readily, and soon all six of them were hunting mice with the rest of Windclan.

By the time they were done, there was enough for all of Windclan to have two mice, even the kits. The Twoleg nest had been emptied of the little rodents, thanks to the keen hunting of the warriors, apprentices and loners, and so the Clan had filtered throughout the barn to find warm places to eat and sleep. The wind blew showers of rain through the entrance, and the holes in the walls allowed chilly drafts to seep through, but the place was big enough that the Windclanners were able to find places to sleep all the same.

Greystripe sat back on his haunches with a groan, having eaten two whole mice himself and stolen some of his sister’s. “I’m stuffed!” He moaned to the others.

“Good! It means you did your job.” Barley purred as he stood up. “Well, I’d best be off. Plenty more mice to catch.”

Tallstar nodded respectfully to the tom. “May Starclan light your path.”

“And yours.” The loner responded over his shoulder as he padded out into the rain, seemingly unbothered by it. There was a moment’s silence as they listened to the steady patter of the rain on the roof, watching it fall through the entrance.

“We can take the first watch, Tallstar.” Fireheart mewed as he stood and stretched, his own belly contentedly full. “Your warriors deserve the time to rest.”

The black and white tom regarded him with unblinking yellow eyes for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. “Thank you, Fireheart. I will tell Deadfoot that.” He sat up and began cleaning his white paws, which looked painfully swollen from all the travel. Fireheart supposed his own didn’t look much better.

He flicked his tail for his friends to follow him towards the entrance, where few dared to go due to the rain. Here, the storm would obscure their words from the rest of Windclan, and they would be able to see the whole Clan clearly. They could talk without being disturbed. 

Peppermask and Ravenspirit sat next to him as Graystripe tottered over, clearly unused to walking with such a full belly. “We’ll be undisturbed here.” The ginger tom mewed to them as he bushed his fur up against the cold. “We should be able to talk freely.”

“At last.” Ravenspirit murmured, sighing in relief. “There’s so much I couldn’t ask with Tallstar and Windclan listening in.”

“Agreed.” Fireheart replied, dipping his head. “It was so hard not saying your real name, too!”

“So what happened after I left?” Ravenspirit asked with a tilt of his head. “Obviously you got the kits back, and drove out Brokentail… and Spottedleaf is dead, of course.” He closed his eyes slowly in grief. “But what of Goldenflower? And all of you, for that matter? You said Bluestar gave you your names?”

“She lived!” Peppermask purred in delight. “Dewpaw worked hard to save her. She’s still recovering, and her kits had to wean a bit early, but they’re all together and safe and sound.”

“A lot happened after you left.” Fireheart admitted as he leaned back on his haunches. “We went and found the Shadowclan elders, Yellowfang included. Then we waited until Bluestar sent out the battle patrol for the kits - Peppermask was there, as well.”

“That’s right. Lionheart, Whitestorm, Sandstorm, Tinyfrost and I.” Peppermask added in quickly. “We invaded Shadowclan camp, and Fireheart himself was the one to drive off Brokentail!”

Ravenspirit gasped in shock. “That’s incredible, Fireheart! Brokentail was one of the strongest cats in the Clans. Stronger than my father, even.” He sighed as he mentioned the dark tabby, glancing out into the rain.

“I didn’t really do much.” The ginger tom admitted. “It was a group effort. We’ll have to tell you the whole story someday.”

“Then we returned to Thunderclan with the kits and Yellowfang.” Graystripe added, excitement overwhelming his bellyache. “And Bluestar gave us our warrior names!”

“She gave all of us our warrior names.” Fireheart added, looking to the black loner beside them earnestly. “Fireheart, Graystripe, and Ravenspirit.”

There was a heavy silence in the air. “So they really do think I’m dead, then.” Ravenspirit mewed as he gazed out at the storm.

Fireheart perked his ears in confusion. “How’d you know that? We hadn’t gotten to that part yet.”

“It’s his name.” Peppermask mewed quickly, glancing at the former Thunderclanner as she did so. “The name -spirit is reserved for those who died too soon. Apprentices, usually, but I’ve heard of leaders sometimes giving it to kits as well. It’s in honor of the first apprentice to die, Brightspirit, and how she was taken from us too soon.” The gray tabby bowed her head mournfully at the mention of the lost Starclanner.

“The Clan elders are responsible for keeping the tales of each who died before their time, so that they will never be forgotten.” Ravenspirit added solemnly as he watched the rain fall. “Do I have one, then?” He asked as he finally looked back at them.

“You do.” Graystripe answered readily. Fireheart blinked in surprise; he hadn’t talked to the elders that much since the battle, and so he hadn’t known. “Your tale is one of bravery and sacrifice, saving us from Brokentail’s cruel claws.”

Ravenspirit nodded halfheartedly. “That… That’s good, I guess.” He mewed at last.

“You seem troubled.” Peppermask said softly as she gazed at the loner with wide, earnest eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed and looked back at the storm outside. “I don’t deserve it.” He finally admitted. “I ran away when the Clan needed me most. I was a coward.”

“Nonsense!” Fireheart interjected, nudging his friend with his shoulder. “Bluestar herself said you would have gotten your name if Brokentail hadn’t attacked. Even if you hadn’t run away, you would still be a warrior.”

“But I did. Would she still think the same of me if she knew I was alive?” The black tom pointed out as he turned to look at his friend. “What if she knew I was a loner now? That I turned away from the Clans and the code?”

“That doesn’t matter.” Peppermask refuted him gently, though her tail tip was lashing. “You would have died if you stayed, Ravenspirit. At least with you safe here, we have a chance to figure out a plan to fight back against Tigerclaw.”

“If I may.” All four of them jumped at the sound of another voice. They had been so deep in conversation, they hadn’t noticed Tallstar’s approach. 

“How much did you hear?” Fireheart asked him warily. If Tallstar knew- if he told the other Clans-

“Enough.” He replied simply, sitting down and wrapping his tail over his white paws. “Your secret is safe with me. I know better than to interfere with another Clan.” He glanced quickly at the other Thunderclanners, though if it was a jab at them he didn’t voice it any further. “But it would be wrong of me to sit idly by and listen to you wrestle with the same guilt I once did.”

The former group of apprentices glanced at each other uneasily. “What do you mean?” The ginger Thunderclanner finally asked cautiously.

Tallstar nodded towards his Clan, most of whom were beginning to fall into a peaceful sleep. “It was not easy for me to choose to leave the moors behind. Indeed, the warrior code says that we must fight to defend our Clan - with our life, if need be.” His eyes were troubled as he gazed over the slumbering warriors. “There are those who would call me a coward for choosing to flee rather than stay and fight.”

Tense silence filled the air. “But Brokentail and his rogues were strong. Even if I chose to stay and fight - even if we won - we would have lost many more lives that day. We certainly wouldn’t have been able to repel a second attack.” He closed his eyes mournfully, grieving the loss of his warriors. “If it makes me a coward, then so be it. But a wise warrior knows that they cannot win every battle. Sometimes, it is better to know when to cut your losses, so that you may strike faster and harder the second time.”

Fireheart glanced at Ravenspirit, whose brows were furrowed in thought. “I feel bad, though. For tricking Bluestar into believing I’m dead.”

The Windclan tom’s whiskers twitched in amusement at that. “Bluestar is one of the wisest cats I have had the privilege of meeting. She has seen much in her seasons as Thunderclan’s leader.” He glanced around at the other four cats as they squinted at him in confusion. “She has also seen many young, daring cats like yourselves in that time. She was once one herself. I suspect you may not have fooled her as well as you all think.”

Graystripe bristled at that. “You mean she knows that it was an act?”

He shrugged his black and white shoulders. “Perhaps. More likely, she realizes there is more to the story than what you told her. But she also trusts in her warriors to do what is right; a trust, I have noticed, that is rarely ill-founded.” He dipped his head to Ravenspirit. “Even so, she still chose to honor you and your life. She believes you earned your name, despite what else she may not know. Take heart in that.”

There was a long pause as the four of them considered that. “I think I understand. Thank you, Tallstar.”

He nodded, then stood and stretched. “In any case, I merely came over to tell you all that Deadfoot has arranged for your replacements at moonhigh. Pigeonflight and Wrenfeather will take the second watch.” He indicated each to them; a tabby with thick black stripes and a small brown molly that were curled up together, sleeping soundly.

“Wait!” Fireheart mewed quickly as the Windclan leader turned to leave. “Before you go, I- I had a question for you.” He looked to the others, who were staring at him curiously. “When you first saw me in the tunnel, you called me Jake. Why?”

The tom’s shoulders slumped as he slowly sat back down. “It is a long tale. One which happened many seasons ago, before I became leader.” He gazed wistfully out of the Twoleg nest, into the slowly weakening storm. “I was lost, blinded by my own pride and anger. Jake was a mere kittypet, but he was perhaps the greatest cat I have ever met. He taught me a great deal about the world outside of the Clans, and helped me find my way. I would not be leader of Windclan today without his help.”

Fireheart perked his ears in surprise. With how the other Clans had thus far treated kittypets, he hadn’t expected a leader to be so close to one. “What happened to him?” 

Tallstar shrugged. “We parted ways; I became Windclan deputy, and he went back to his Twolegs. I have long wondered what happened to him, but he has never visited since.” He shook his head with a sigh. “His pelt was like a burning blaze across the moors, shining just as brightly in the sunlight. And his eyes - as green as the forest in late newleaf, like yours. You look… remarkably like him, but without the choker.”

“Maybe you two are related?” Graystripe suggested with a nudge to the tom beside him.

The ginger warrior shrugged. “Truthfully, I was also once a kittypet. But the thing about kittypets is that they don’t know their family beyond their littermates and mother.”

The Windclan leader nodded in understanding. He didn’t seem at all surprised by Fireheart’s admission. “Jake told me as such. It doesn’t matter, anyways. I can see you are your own cat, whether you are related to him or not.” Still, he could see the longing in the tom’s golden eyes, of a different time and different cat. “Your spirit burns brightly. Thunderclan is lucky to have a cat like you serving them.”

Fireheart dipped his head at the praise. “Thank you, Tallstar. I- I appreciate that.”

The Windclan leader stood and looked at the rest of them. “If that is all, I will take my leave now. I must be ready to lead the Clan home in the morning.” He glanced over to Ravenspirit as they all shook their heads. “And I will let the Clan know not to mention the loners that helped them to anyone else at the Gathering. To keep our pride, and all.”

Ravenspirit blinked and then nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, Tallstar. It means more than you know.”

The tom flicked his tail farewell and trotted over to where Crowskip, the elder, was curled up in the dried grass, watching a leak from the roof splashing down. He lifted his head curiously as his leader arrived, and the two began chatting as Fireheart turned to the others.

“That takes care of one worry, at least.” Peppermask murmured to the rest. “We still haven’t figured out how to take care of Tigerclaw, but we have a new ally now. Yellowfang.”

The black loner perked his ears curiously. “Yes, you mentioned she had joined Thunderclan as the new healer. Which means Wetnose is Shadowclan’s only healer now?”

Fireheart chuffed at the mention of the Shadowclan tom. “Yes, he is. Though not a very good one, from what little I’ve heard.”

Ravenspirit twitched his whiskers mirthfully at that. “So I’ve been told. He can’t even cure his own cold!”

The group purred appreciatively at that. It was nice, to be able to lighten up after the long and weary journey that they had undertaken. Still, he was exhausted on his paws after all the traveling that they had done, and Ravenspirit seemed to notice as he swayed slightly on his feet. “Why don’t you guys get some sleep? I can take the watch on my own.” 

Fireheart hesitated, glancing at the others. “Are you sure? I mean, we promised Tallstar we’d take watch.” 

“It’s fine. I think he trusts me now, and you guys know I can keep watch fine.” Fireheart nodded at that; Ravenspirit had always had keen eyesight and hearing as an apprentice. “Get some rest. You can sleep here, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“It would.” The ruddy tom admitted. It felt strange to be intermingling with Windclan, anyhow. “Thank you, Ravenspirit.” He murmured as he found a soft spot of dried grass to curl up in, Graystripe and Peppermask laying down next to him. He closed his eyes as the black tom nodded and turned to stand watch, the light splashing of the rain and the warmth of the others quickly lulling him into a dreamless sleep.

[meadowfoxglove]

Wrenfeather ships 💖💖💖

2021 vs 2023

[esoteric-terror]

Wrenfeather