[TB] DAWN -- Chapter 12 (Patreon)

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“Stoneheart... you had best lead the way from here,” Russetstar murmured.

Stoneheart blinked at his leader, then looked back at the rest of ShadowClan. His Clanmates had crossed ShadowClan territory in silence, mourning what they lost and saying quiet good-byes to their home as they went. Now, the last of them were trickling off of the Thunderpath which, thanks to the Twolegs being busy in ShadowClan territory, had been blessedly quiet.

He looked away, unable to face their grief when he was feeling it, too. Ahead was ThunderClan territory – or what remained of it. Like Fourtrees, like the Black Fens, like WindClan territory, it was almost unrecognizable. The once-thick forest of oaks and maples and birches was reduced almost by half, the trees cut down to stumps and the ground torn, muddy, and pockmarked with deep pits.

Stoneheart’s limbs felt stiff as he gazed out at that wasteland. “I... I don’t know,” he admitted, his mouth dry. He looked to Russetstar. “It feels... so wrong now.”

“I know,” she agreed. “But you know ThunderClan territory best.”

Stoneheart swallowed, his mouth dry. Wordlessly, he nodded at Russetstar and turned his paws along the Thunderpath. His entire body was on alert, his whiskers quivering – he did know ThunderClan territory best out of ShadowClan, that was true, but it had been a long time since he’d walked the forest of his birth freely.

Judging by the destruction, and the fact that ThunderClan had moved camp, Stoneheart figured that skirting the territory at its edges would be the safest option. The last thing he wanted was to run into stray Twolegs with a whole Clan behind him.

He glanced back, pausing. He could see how tired and bedraggled his Clanmates were after their flight from their ruined camp. Runningnose, Brick, and Boulder were lagging behind, while Tallpoppy and Orre were struggling to balance carrying their three kits between them. Cedarheart had Rushkit and Willowkit on his back, trudging along with Finchsong by his side. Wolftooth was with them, sniffing at both his daughter and his grandkits, worry in his gaze. Blackfoot had to command Redpaw and Smokepaw three or four times before the apprentices snapped out of their stupor and rushed over to help Littlecloud, who was trying to carry all that remained of his herb store on his own.

Stoneheart felt anxiety prickling at his ear-tips. If ShadowClan was having this hard of a time, how could all four Clans hope to make it to the lake?

He turned back. We’ll have to figure it out, he thought, pressing on.

Evening was turning the world to bright orange flame as Stoneheart paused at the stream, letting his Clanmates rest and drink from a splinter of the stream that led into ShadowClan territory. Ahead, the Owl Tree still stood, though it was far more exposed than Stoneheart was used to.

Dimly, Stoneheart recalled Sandstorm taking him to its roots, teaching him about the owl that called the tree home. The memory stirred Stoneheart’s heart, and he longed for a time when things were so simple – not to live in ThunderClan again, but to have peace again, not this chaos that the Twolegs had flung the Clans into.

“Drink, Nightwing,” Pinewhisker urged.

Stoneheart blinked out of his thoughts, glancing to his side. Nightwing was staring at the stream, her eyes blank. Pinewhisker was nudging her nose towards the trickle of water – but when she wouldn’t move, he sighed, resting his muzzle against her shoulder.

“She’s hurting,” Blackfoot rasped, coming forward. “She’ll come around.”

“I hope so,” Pinewhisker breathed. “There’s so much I want to say...”

Stoneheart grimaced, recalling that Pinewhisker wanted to confess his feelings to the night-black she-cat. What if losing the camp had made it so that couldn’t happen?

“We’re ready to go,” Blackfoot meowed to Stoneheart.

Stoneheart nodded. “We’ll be there by nightfall,” he promised.

Blackfoot dipped his muzzle, then turned back to the Clan. With a sharp order, every cat was on their paws again – even Nightwing, who seemed to be operating on instinct more than anything else.

Stoneheart crossed the stream with a single stride of his paws and headed for the Owl Tree. The old maple’s leaves were dappled with red spots, and what trees remained were showing their leaf-fall colors, looking almost like an extension of the red-orange sky.

Leaves crunched beneath Stoneheart’s paws as, finally, tree branches closed overhead. This strip of forest was about all that remained in ThunderClan territory, Stoneheart guessed. It felt good to be out of the open. Walking beneath the trees brought more memories flooding back to Stoneheart, and he picked up the pace.

There should be a Twoleg path, he thought, staring into the trees. A few moments later there it was, the wide track of treeless path winding through the forest. ThunderClan cats sometimes used it to speed their way to Fourtrees. Stoneheart found the place where it split in two, and followed the split down towards a rickety Twoleg bridge.

He gave it a wary sniff – it was nowhere as large as the bridge over the river and, right now, the stream below it was hardly paw-deep. Ahead there was another thicket of forest, and then Sunningrocks – Stoneheart turned his head back to his Clanmates, lifting his tail. He saw tired eyes brighten all around. Almost there.

Rather than cross the tiny Twoleg bridge, the cats splashed through the stream. The cold water seemed to wake them up, putting a spring in their step for the last leg of their journey. Stoneheart led the way through the forest, his whiskers trembling with memories. Here was a shrew burrow, there was a rabbit warren, swallows liked to nest in that birch, and Brackenfur always needed berries from that juniper bush...

“Stoneheart?”

Stoneheart paused, and refocused his attentions. What kind of warrior was he, to get so lost in memories of a Clan he didn’t call his own anymore? But when he saw the blue-gray she-cat step out from the undergrowth, he couldn’t help it. Seeing Mistyfoot in the forest... it was like they were apprentices again.

Behind Mistyfoot came Sootfur and, surprisingly, the WindClan warrior Duskwhisker. That definitely shattered the illusion – Stoneheart blinked, and glanced back at his Clanmates. Russetstar and Blackfoot were helping the elders cross over a fallen log while the other warriors were gathering themselves up to keep moving.

Mistyfoot followed his gaze, and her eyes widened. “Oh, StarClan...”

“Is that your whole Clan?” Sootfur gasped.

Stoneheart looked back at the patrol, and found that they were bristling with alarm. Duskwhisker especially was fluffing out her fur, to compensate for her thin, wiry frame.

“Is everything all right?” Russetstar meowed, drawing close. She held her chin high, despite the circumstances, looking down at Mistyfoot. Her gaze only served to intensify Duskwhisker’s wariness, and Stoneheart saw the WindClan she-cat's claws slide out.

“Our camp was destroyed this morning,” Stoneheart explained quickly. “We have nowhere else to go.”

Mistyfoot swallowed. She glanced at Duskwhisker and Sootfur – Stoneheart guessed that she was leading the patrol, because she flicked her tail and meowed, “Come on; let’s get you to Tinystar.”

It was Mistyfoot’s turn to lead the way now. She turned about and began padding down the trail to Sunningrocks, Sootfur and Duskwhisker following – both cats kept turning their heads back, confusion and worry in their gazes.

Stoneheart wanted to push between them and walk beside his sister again, as they had on their journey, but he knew it wouldn’t look good to his Clanmates if he did. ShadowClan needed him now. He kept back, walking beside Russetstar and Littlecloud.

The trees broke ahead, opening up into the low, rocky shoreline that was called Sunningrocks. Stoneheart stopped at the ridge, stunned – he knew that ThunderClan would have a hard time eking out a suitable camp between the tumbledown boulders, but two Clans was even worse than he imagined. Sunningrocks was not a place made to house a whole Clan, let alone two, or three, and cats were spilling out everywhere that Stoneheart could see.

ShadowClan’s presence wasn’t unnoticed for long – their scent crept over the rocks, and soon enough every cat was alert. ThunderClan and WindClan cats rose as one, their thin bodies pressing together for warmth and protection in the bleak landscape. Stoneheart saw eyes flashing in the dark as cats crept out from beneath the boulders, tails lashing.

“What are they doing here?” wondered Webfoot.

Beside him, Ashfur scoffed, “Don’t we have enough problems?”

Wisely, Russetstar raised her tail to the ShadowClan train behind her, ordering them to stop before they broke through the trees. Blackfoot remained with them, his yellow eyes thin slits, daring any cat to attack his Clan.

“Come,” Russetstar murmured to Stoneheart, brushing past him.

Paws tingling, Stoneheart followed his leader down the slope. Littlecloud came with them, his eyes round as he took in the state of the cats around him. Mistyfoot let Sootfur and Duskwhisker go, choosing to lead the ShadowClan cats herself, her tail high as she padded across the pebbles, along a path made by her Clanmates.

“Stoneheart!”

“Stoneheart, is that really you?”

Stoneheart’s ears pricked at the familiar voices. Much to the annoyance of the cats around them, Nightpaw and Shadepaw tumbled out of the crowd together, eyes bright and tails waving.

“Get back!” hissed Dustpelt, Nightpaw’s mentor. He reached around with a paw and pulled Nightpaw back, but the small black tom wiggled free.

“How’ve you been?” Nightpaw meowed, his ice-blue eyes taking in Stoneheart’s appearance as he padded alongside him.

Shadepaw sniffed at Stoneheart’s pelt. “He seems okay,” she reported.

Stoneheart couldn’t help but feel both uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his Clanmates and touched by the apprentice’s concern. He craned his neck over the crowd – where was Crowpaw?

“Crowpaw is hunting,” Shadepaw meowed, as if she knew what thoughts were crossing Stoneheart’s mind. She stumbled over a stone and, as she recovered, she meowed, “He’s not been very friendly since he came here with WindClan.”

“He’s been a mouse-brain,” Nightpaw put in, looking cross.

“Nightpaw, Shadepaw, enough,” meowed Sandstorm. The pale ginger she-cat was ahead, suddenly, her green eyes piercing as she observed her kits. Stoneheart had been distracted – he found that Mistyfoot had led his little patrol to the center of Sunningrocks, where it seemed like Tinystar had made his den in a scoop beneath a large boulder.

He appeared now, a shadow given fur and flesh, his ice-blue eyes flickering over Stoneheart. Being in that gaze reminded Stoneheart of his apprenticeship and kithood in ThunderClan, and his pelt prickled. Tinystar had once looked at him as if he were Bluestar come again... what did he see now?

“Russetstar,” Tinystar meowed cordially, dipping his head. His gaze flickered back to the ridge, where Blackfoot and the rest of ShadowClan were waiting, and his expression softened with sympathy. “Twolegs?” he guessed, his voice going quiet.

Russetstar nodded solemnly. “They came at dawn,” she rasped, sounding tired. “Our camp is gone; we’ve nowhere else to go.”

“Then you may stay,” Tinystar meowed.

“What?!”

The hiss came from the crowd. Mudclaw, WindClan’s deputy, stalked out into the open, his pelt bristling to its ends. “It’s bad enough that there are two Clans here – there can’t be three!” he snapped.

Stoneheart glanced into the crowd. Where was Tallstar? He recalled that the WindClan leader had looked ill – was he dead? No, there he was, sitting with Barkface and Brackenfur farther into the crowd. Stoneheart sighed with relief.

Russetstar pinned an ear. “We do not intend to stay long,” she insisted, regarding Mudclaw with a sharp gaze. Turning back to Tinystar, she meowed, “We can no longer call this forest home, Tinystar. Surely you must see now that we need to leave, with or without RiverClan?”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Stoneheart saw many heads nodding, and he realized that just about everyone here had come to the same understanding. Only some of the oldest, most stubborn cats looked like they were clinging to their roots, turning their heads away from the idea – but there had been so much destruction, so much sorrow.

It was time.

Tinystar sighed. “I know,” he meowed, his ice-blue eyes softening. The small ThunderClan leader looked defeated. “We’ve all but run out of time. Rest, Russetstar, and eat – we can talk of leaving tomorrow.”

Russetstar swallowed. “Thank you.”

Relief tinged Stoneheart’s pelt, like warm newleaf sunshine – but when he glanced at Mistyfoot, the warmth faded. His sister was looking across the river, her tail-tip flicking anxiously. Stoneheart understood: if the Clans left without RiverClan, then it would still be as if their journey, their loss of Stormfur, had been for nothing.

Things seemed to settle down now that it was clear that ShadowClan was staying. Still, Russetstar meowed, “We’ll camp on the outskirts. There’s not enough room here otherwise.”

“Your elders, queens, and apprentices can sleep with ours,” Tinystar swept on. He flicked his tail to Sandstorm. “Take Nightpaw with you and make sure there’s adequate space. Littlecloud, Brackenfur and Barkface have set up a temporary medicine cat’s den over in the deepest ditch. Shadepaw, would you escort him?”

“Of course, Father,” Shadepaw answered coolly. She nodded to Littlecloud, and headed over to Barkface and Brackenfur, the crowd shuffling awkwardly around them.

Nightpaw and Sandstorm, meanwhile, headed back towards the slope. Nightpaw brushed against Stoneheart’s pelt, purring as he went. Russetstar turned and followed, holding her chin and tail high despite what must have been a blow to her pride. The crowd began to disperse back to their duties – what was done was done, and couldn’t be changed.

Stoneheart, though, stood in the midst of cats who were now strangers, feeling uncomfortable. He saw Ashfur lean over to Rainwhisker and whisper into his ear, while Spiderpaw was clearly plying Mousefur for the story of why Stoneheart had left ThunderClan. Other cats he had known since birth were staring at him as if he were an enemy. Stoneheart swallowed.

“Come on.” Mistyfoot’s voice was in his ear, and Stoneheart turned to his sister. Her blue eyes were sympathetic, and she brushed her tail along his spine. “You must be exhausted.”

“Starving, mostly,” Stoneheart admitted. Though his legs hurt, his stomach was yowling.

Mistyfoot twitched her whiskers. “Aren’t we all?”

She got to her paws and beckoned for Stoneheart to follow. She led the way through the crowded shore, picking her way around the boulders. Stoneheart kept up, though his limbs ached more than ever – he hadn’t had a chance to breathe since journeying through the Twolegplace.

They came to a long, flat boulder that hung over one of the ditches that wound through Sunningrocks. Beneath, in the shade, were the elders of ThunderClan and WindClan, huddled together in a pile for as much warmth as they could manage. One head rose, eyes opening bright and widening at the sight of Stoneheart.

“Stoneheart!” Oakheart gasped. He awkwardly pushed his way out of the elder pile, earning him a hiss of annoyance from Frostfur, who was bumped away and into Morningflower. Oakheart ignored them, limping out of the makeshift den as fast as he could.

Stoneheart felt emotion welling up in him as Oakheart pressed his muzzle into his fur. He leaned forward, breathing in his father’s scent, his limbs trembling. He couldn’t help but purr as he was thrust back in time to kithood, cuddling close to Oakheart’s body in the nursery, listening to him tell a story to carry he and his littermates to sleep.

“Thank StarClan you’re safe,” Oakheart breathed, his voice choked with emotion. “Mistyfoot told me about your journey, and...”

Stoneheart shivered. “We made it through,” he told his father. His heart felt full – all that was missing was Mosspaw, and he hoped she was here, too, somehow.

Oakheart pulled away, ears pricked. “So,” he mewed, glancing over the edge of the ditch, “where’s Rowanclaw?”

Stoneheart froze. Both Mistyfoot and Oakheart drew away, their eyes widening at his expression. He hadn’t gotten the chance to tell Mistyfoot at Fourtrees, so of course Oakheart had no idea...

“He was taken by Twolegs,” Stoneheart whispered.

Oakheart and Mistyfoot shared a glance, speechless. Then, both cats came forward and wound around Stoneheart, supporting him as his limbs gave way and he fell to the stones. He was trembling between them, feeling even more like a kit again as he drew comfort from their presence.

“I know where he and the others might be,” Stoneheart murmured. “I won’t leave the forest without him.”

“I won’t let it happen,” Mistyfoot agreed firmly.

“Rest, Stoneheart,” Oakheart said, rasping his tongue around Stoneheart’s ear. “We’ll figure it all out in the morning.”

Stoneheart felt his father’s tongue lapping at his fur and he couldn’t help but lean against him. Even though his world had fallen apart just this morning... being so surrounded by his family felt like home. Though he wanted Rowanclaw more than anything, this was just as good.

He closed his eyes and let his exhaustion carry him off to sleep.