TB MOONRISE -- Chapter 22 (Patreon)

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The rain continued on into the day, the slow, lazy sprinkle reflecting Mothwing’s mood as she returned to camp. Her entire body and spirit felt drained, and she curled up into her nest in the medicine cat’s den, somehow feeling too tired to sleep. Instead, she rested her head on her paws, hoping that would stop her head from spinning.

No cat had greeted her when she came into camp, hostile or otherwise, which meant Falcontail hadn’t revealed his “truth” yet. But he was somewhere in camp – Mothwing knew that it was only a matter of time before something happened.

What will I do? Mothwing wondered. Being a medicine cat was all she wanted, so why hadn’t StarClan been the ones to send Mudfur the sign? Didn’t they know just how much she loved tending her Clanmates hurts, learning all the ways to cure a cough or stop an infection? Couldn’t they see that? Why did it matter if she had been chosen or not, if even Mudfur said she was so good in her role?

Her stomach felt tied up in knots. Beyond all of this, Falcontail was her littermate – how could he justify doing something like this to her? Where had their kithood closeness gone? What had changed him? He was almost an entirely different cat now, and if he were so willing to ruin his own sister’s life… Perhaps he’s not a brother worth having.

The plainness of the thought shocked her. Mothwing realized that the only reason she had a hard time even considering losing Falcontail as her brother was because, well, he was her brother – but she knew deep down that his horrible attitude, his ambition creeping up like a shadow… those were things she didn’t want in her life anymore.

He clearly doesn’t think of me as his sister any longer, Mothwing reflected. No littermates should ever behave that way to one another. Something about that thought made the knot in her stomach unclench, just a little. So, if he thinks of me as nothing but a tool for his ambitions… then so be it – he is no longer my brother.

“What’s on your mind, now?” Mudfur’s thin voice brought Mothwing out of her thoughts. The old medicine cat was padding into the den, pausing to shake raindrops from his fur.

“Nothing,” Mothwing managed. There was no way she could tell Mudfur about Falcontail’s threat – as she looked at her mentor, she knew he believed so strongly in StarClan’s message that he might just denounce her on the spot. “I just wanted to get out of the rain. Do you need anything?”

Mudfur shook his head. “Leopardstar had to speak with me – she’s calling a meeting,” he reported.

Already? Mothwing got to her paws, hoping that her mounting anxiety was hidden beneath her fur. Outside, in the rain-wet clearing, she could see Leopardstar making her way to the Clan Root. The surface was slick but she hadn’t a problem climbing it. Her summons rang out, even in the medicine cat’s den:

“Let all cats old enough to swim gather here, beneath the Clan Root, for a Clan meeting!”

Mothwing swallowed. Mudfur didn’t seem aware of his apprentice’s worries, only groaning about having to go back out into the rain. Mothwing followed him, her pawsteps slow. Every warrior and apprentice not assigned to a patrol was emerging from their dens, tails low and ears damp. Even RiverClan cats disliked being wetter than they intended to be.

Mothwing spotted Falcontail amidst the crowd of warriors, and she averted her eyes from him. She didn’t want to see the smugness in his gaze, or the way he lifted his chin like he’d won a great victory. Instead, she focused on placing her paws just so, and sitting beneath the Clan Root beside Mudfur as the last of RiverClan reluctantly trickled out into the clearing, their eyes flashing with curiosity.

Leopardstar’s gaze was sharp as she surveyed her Clan. Finally, her voice rang out through the sprinkle of raindrops: “There has been a sign from StarClan.”

Mothwing’s heart tightened and she refused her instinct to look at Falcontail. He wasted no time delivering his ‘sign’… But was she to be banished?

The rest of the Clan seemed eager to hear, eyes glistening with hope. “Is it about Tawnypelt?” Goldenpaw asked, leaning forward. He and his littermates, Rosepaw and Reedpaw, were clustered together in a huddle of grief over their mother’s disappearance.

Leopardstar’s eyes shone with sympathy. “Not quite,” she answered. Lifting her chin higher, she went on, “Tawnypelt’s disappearance is a blow to our Clan, that I will not deny – nor will I believe that she is truly lost to us; but StarClan have given us hope in the meantime.”

She bent down, and from beneath the shelter of her belly she produced a falcon’s feather. Mothwing blinked up at her mother and, while the rest of the Clan whispered and murmured in shock and awe, she felt bile roiling in her belly.

“A feather!” gawped Blackclaw. “What does it mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘what does it mean?’” chided Leafwhisker. The tabby warrior nudged Falcontail, who sat beside them. “It must mean you!”

Falcontail tipped his head, feigning humility. “We don’t know that…”

Mothwing knew she should be angry, but she just felt tired, like every drop of rain that landed on her pelt was sapping her strength.

Leopardstar pinned the feather to the Clan Root with her paw. “StarClan left this by my nest as I slept,” she announced. “And when I woke, I summoned Mudfur to me. We had a long discussion about what it might mean…”

Just get on with it, Mothwing found herself thinking. Just name him deputy.

“Tawnypelt is gone, for now. I will hold on to hope that she might return,” Leopardstar meowed on. “But in the meantime, RiverClan cannot go without a deputy – especially not in such strange times as these. StarClan showed me who that cat must be.”

Every cat held their breath. Mothwing swallowed around a lump in her throat.

“Falcontail is to be deputy of RiverClan,” Leoaprdstar announced, “until Tawnypelt is returned to us, or confirmed dead.”

“Falcontail! Falcontail!” Mothwing was surprised at how few cats cheered – Blackclaw and Leafwhisker were the loudest voices, but most cats looked uncertain, and Tawnypelt’s kits hung their heads in silence altogether. Some tiny spark of hope burned in her – maybe Falcontail wouldn’t come by the position as easily as he hoped.

Falcontail stepped forward, his head lowered humbly. “I will do my best,” he promised, “to fill her pawsteps, and keep RiverClan safe. No matter what.”

Mothwing felt sick. He clearly didn’t think Tawnypelt would come back, and he certainly didn’t think much of her as deputy. What would he do when Tawnypelt returned? Fake another sign so that he could stay deputy? And what will he do when deputy isn’t enough for him?

The thought chilled her, and she looked up to her mother. Being deputy only granted so much power – if Falcontail had his sights aimed higher, Leopardstar was all that remained in his way. The lump in Mothwing’s throat seemed to turn into a prickly burr. Would he… she looked over at Falcontail, whose head was raised proudly. Would he kill Mother?

As Mothwing grappled with the thought, she was dimly aware of the meeting breaking up. Cats were rushing back to their dens to get out of the rain, and Falcontail was following Leopardstar back to her den, probably to talk about Clan procedures. Mothwing gathered herself, getting to her paws and following Mudfur across the clearing and into the medicine cat’s den.

Mudfur immediately busied himself with checking the willow log for any leaks, and Mothwing shook herself dry, her paws tingling with uncertainty. Falcontail had gotten what he wanted without revealing that Mothwing wasn’t a legitimate medicine cat – so when would he tell the Clan?

He means to hold it over my head, Mothwing thought grimly. She looked over at Mudfur. When he’s gone, I’ll be the voice of StarClan in RiverClan. And if Tawnypelt doesn’t come back, and something happens to Leopardstar…

She could see very clearly the vision Falcontail had for RiverClan – him at the head, using Mothwing under threat of banishment or death to parrot all his ‘signs’ to get what he wanted, and RiverClan, believing wholly in StarClan, would be none the wiser. Mothwing’s claws dug into the soft earth of the den. I have to stop him, somehow!

Her stomach churned. If only Feathertail and Stormfur were here… Stormfur would have been the obvious choice for deputy right now, not Falcontail. Leopardstar wouldn’t have hesitated to appoint him. StarClan would definitely have given her a sign about him… and Feathertail…

Feathertail would have just been nice to have around right now. Mothwing’s heart ached as she realized that she couldn’t even confide in Mudfur about her problems; but Feathertail would have understood, and Feathertail would have fought for her. Feathertail would have known just what to say to keep her spirits up – she always did.

It took Mothwing too long to realize that Mudfur was staring at her. She snapped to attention, trying to shake away her niggling thoughts.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” the old medicine cat asked, tilting his head.

“I’m fine,” Mothwing insisted.

Mudfur gave her a skeptical look, but began pawing out some herbs from the store. Traveling herbs, Mothwing realized. She had all but forgotten that tonight was the half-moon meeting, and Mudfur was too weak to make the journey without aid.

Still, it gave her some hope – she would be meeting with StarClan tonight! She might not have received any signs, but StarClan wouldn’t be able to ignore Mothwing at the Moonstone. She could ask them what to do about Falcontail and her situation, and they would know the answer… they had to!

Mudfur coughed, and Mothwing frowned. “Are you sure you’re up to this?” she wondered. “I can go alone…”

“No, no,” Mudfur rasped. “I’ll be fine. With what’s going on right now, all medicine cats need to be able to hear StarClan’s words.”

Mothwing nodded in agreement. StarClan had to have something to say, with WindClan in such turmoil and ThunderClan driven from their camp. As Mudfur lapped up his herbs, another question pressed her mind, and she asked, “Is it common for StarClan to send signs to Clan leaders and not us?”

Mudfur looked up, licking his jaws of the bitter juices. Even he, in all his experience as a medicine cat, winced at the bitter flavors. “We medicine cats might have the strongest connection to them, but it’s not up to us to determine who StarClan speaks to,” he answered simply. “They do as they will.”

Mothwing frowned. She didn’t like that answer; something about it burned deep down. But for Mudfur, she nodded in acceptance.

“Let’s go,” Mudfur decided, “before this rain locks my joints for good.”

———————————————————

The journey to the Moonstone seemed to take forever – Mothwing and Mudfur had to circumnavigate almost all of WindClan’s territory to avoid the monsters and Twolegs. To Mothwing, the extra time had been worth it - the dirt churned up by the monster’s giant paws had turned to sucking muck, and Mothwing knew that Mudfur would never have made it out if he’d gotten stuck.

The rain, at least, had stopped as they climbed their way slowly up Highstones to Mothermouth, where the other medicine cats were waiting. All of them looked worn and thinner than before, with Barkface and Ryewhisper being nothing but pelts on branches to Mothwing’s eyes – they looked even worse since she’d seen them last. Her heart ached with sorrow for them all.

“I’m sorry for our lateness,” Mudfur breathed, flopping down on his haunches to rest.

Brackenfur, ThunderClan’s medicine cat, shook his head. “Don’t fret,” he sighed, his amber eyes sympathetic. “We’re all late.”

Littlecloud shifted, and Mothwing noted just how muddy the small tabby’s paws were. “The Twolegs have torn up most of our usual paths,” he remarked. “I had to find a new way to make it here tonight.”

“Our only saving grace is that the Thunderpath isn’t so busy right now,” Brackenfur agreed. His injured leg twitched oddly. “Otherwise, I might not have been able to make it here from Sunningrocks.”

So, we’re the only Clan that hasn’t seen a Twoleg yet, Mothwing thought, distressed. She glanced back down Highstones, over to the moorland. With how quickly the Twolegs were tearing apart the forest and highlands… it wouldn’t be long.

“You’ve moved?” Ryewhisper’s eyes went wide.

Brackenfur nodded. “We had to,” he breathed. “The Twolegs have taken over all of Tallpines and Snakerocks, and were advancing on our camp.”

Littlecloud frowned. “They’re getting closer to us, too,” he admitted. “The Black Fens are all but consumed, and we’ve even seen them coming in from near the Carrionplace. I don’t know where we’ll move to…”

Mothwing glanced at Mudfur, whose eyes were burning with concern. Her own heart felt heavier than ever – these cats were her friends, and they were suffering so much…

“Did Bristlepaw make it?” Mothwing asked, looking to Barkface and hoping for some good news.

Unfortunately, Barkface shook his head. “No,” he murmured. “He walks with StarClan now – but we were grateful for your aid, Mothwing.”

Brackenfur turned to her and nodded. “Without your help, more cats might have died from eating rabbits – we were too late for Dappletail, but no one else is ill, and Tinystar has ordered no more rabbits on the fresh-kill pile.”

“Oh no, not Dappletail!” moaned Littlecloud. “She was always so sweet…”

Mothwing barely felt the praise. Every Clan must have lost cats to the rabbits, long before she’d helped Barkface figure it out. Hopefully no one else will die…

“We’re wasting moonlight,” Mudfur interjected. Mothwing looked up and saw that the half-moon was flitting between wisps of clouds. “StarClan must tell us what to do.”

The other medicine cats nodded in agreement, and Littlecloud led the way down into Mothermouth. Mothwing followed, her paws feeling so heavy, and her heart so full of sorrow. The twisting, winding path down to the Moonstone was cold and quiet, with only the sound of the other cats’ paws and breathing to be heard, and soon enough Littlecloud’s shape was lit with moonlight, and they were before the Moonstone.

Mothwing’s heart pounded now, just like it did every other time. The Moonstone was already glowing with light, a glittering crystal that refracted dancing stars all over the cave. Mothwing looked up into the hole in the ceiling above and saw Silverpelt there, and she hoped in her heart that her ancestors would give her the answers she and the others sought.

There was no time for formality – each medicine cat spread out around the Moonstone and lay down. Mothwing settled herself between Ryewhisper and Mudfur. She hesitated, waiting for all the other medicine cats to touch their noses to the stone before she did so herself.

Please… help us, she begged, closing her eyes. Please help me.

There was nothing but darkness for a while – Mothwing worried that she hadn’t dreamed herself into StarClan at all. Had they rejected her? With how evasive they’d been to her, she almost wouldn’t be surprised. Eventually she dared to open her eyes, and with relief she found herself not in the Moonstone cavern, but beside the river, on a warm, clear day. No loud Twoleg monsters, either nothing but the gentle rattle of the reeds and the sound of cicadas in her ears.

She breathed a sigh of relief – so StarClan would still see her, even if she had been appointed falsely. Mothwing craned her neck over the reeds. Who would she see, though?

It wasn’t long until she found her answer. The reeds twitched and trembled, and out stepped a white she-cat, her pelt splotched irregularly with black. Mothwing’s whiskers twitched at her familiar, fishy smell – this was Brambleberry, Mudfur’s old mentor. They had met before, only on Mothwing’s previous trips to the Moonstone.

Brambleberry delicately padded up to Mothwing, dipping her head. “Welcome, Mothwing,” she meowed. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” Mothwing breathed. “With all that’s happening, we all feared we might not reach you…”

Brambleberry’s eyes darkened. “We know… and I am so sorry, Mothwing. For all that has befallen you.”

Mothwing stiffened. She hadn’t expected Brambleberry to cut to the heart of the matter so quickly. “Is it true?”

Brambleberry nodded.

Mothwing trembled. “Then why…” she paused, trying to collect her words. “Why did you say nothing?”

“You were so happy to be a medicine cat.” Brambleberry’s eyes shone with warmth and affection. “There was no reason you needed to know, not when you were serving RiverClan so well.”

Mothwing bristled, and unbidden she screeched, “I lost Feathertail because of that sign, and now Falcontail has gone and faked another! He’s deputy now! Aren’t you at all concerned? Can’t you stop him?”

“StarClan cannot control the actions of those we watch over,” Brambleberry soothed, her tone patient.

That didn’t help. “Then what’s the point of all your power, then?” Mothwing demanded, claws sheathing and unsheathing. “If you can’t stop cats like Falcontail, or the Twolegs, then why have all this power at all?”

Brambleberry looked hurt. Mothwing would’ve felt bad, if she weren’t so hurt herself. “We cannot change hearts that are determined to make evil choices,” Brambleberry reasoned. “We do not have all the power you think we do! Why would we seek to change the wills of our descendants to suit our own needs?”

“That’s an excuse,” Mothwing growled. It was all welling up now, bursting forth like water through rocks. “You might not be able to stop the Twolegs, but Falcontail? We spend all our lives following your signs, treating your words as if they are our salvation, and you cannot say nor do anything to warn us about cats like him? I don’t understand! Don’t you owe us that aid in situations like this?”

“We cannot control you,” Brambleberry repeated patiently. “That wouldn’t be fair.”

“So, it’s fair to let those cats run free?” Mothwing snapped. “Free to fake signs, free to manipulate others’ faith in StarClan to their own ends?”

“Mothwing…” Brambleberry’s eyes were alight with worry. She reached out a paw, as if to soothe Mothwing. “Please, listen-”

Mothwing’s limbs were shaking as she pulled away from Brambleberry. “You… you’re no better or worse than us,” she meowed, the realization dawning on her. “You’re just cats… cats that are just as powerless as we are.”

Her heart was beating in her ears, but she felt so calm. “… And just because you can see the future sometimes doesn’t mean you always know the best way to deal with it.”

Brambleberry was beginning to fade – it all was. The land around Mothwing was melting away into white, and Mothwing didn’t care.

“I don’t need you to be a medicine cat,” she meowed, staring right into Brambleberry’s eyes. “I don’t think I ever will, or that I ever did.”

Brambleberry’s voice was barely audible as the dream faded into whiteness: “I’m so sorry, Mothwing…”

Mothwing woke up.

She didn’t feel angry, strangely enough. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, as the other medicine cats woke around her, Mothwing felt… fine.

I don’t need StarClan, she thought, resolute, not if they’re no more powerful than I am. Anyone can place a feather or a leaf a certain way and see what they want in it. You don’t have to be dead to do that… And Mudfur didn’t need StarClan to tell him that Mothwing’s instincts as a medicine cat were good enough – they had to be, and they would be.

“… I’m not sure,” Ryewhisper was murmuring. “What I saw… did you all see it too?”

Brackenfur’s eyes flashed in the darkness. “I saw lands unfamiliar to me… but that was it.”

“I saw walls of stone, taller than anything I’ve ever seen,” Barkface admitted. “But I don’t understand…”

Mothwing shifted uncomfortably. Despite her dream, she hadn’t seen anything like that… and she supposed she never would again.

“StarClan did not speak to any of us, then?” Mudfur surmised.

“Not me,” Littlecloud meowed – others agreed. Mothwing nodded, too.

“Then they must think this is something we can understand on our own,” Brackenfur decided. Mothwing heard him shuffle to his paws, his weight mismatched on the cool stone floor. “We must reflect, and hope the answer comes to us soon.”

The others agreed. Mothwing frowned. Were they really so willing to wait for others to find the answers for them? These cats were the best and brightest of their Clans, surely they had to be able to think for themselves!

“Come,” Mudfur meowed. His voice was nearer to the entrance. “StarClan will guide us, but there is nothing more to see here.”

Mothwing got to her paws, and glanced back at the Moonstone. Without its glow, it was just a rock. There was nothing dazzling or mystifying about it at all and there was something comforting about that, about knowing what was really behind the mystery.

There is nothing more to see here.