[TB] DAWN -- Chapter 17 (Patreon)

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The patrol left Fourtrees behind, heading for ShadowClan land. The sun was beginning to head for the horizon, the sky turning from blue to orange. Stoneheart found himself taking the lead as they crossed the Thunderpath, feeling Rowanclaw’s pelt brush against his as they trotted through the marshes. There wasn’t much left of ShadowClan to bid farewell to - the camp was gone, and with the Black Fens destroyed there was little to see...

… except for the grove.

“It’s beautiful,” Feathertail breathed as the patrol stepped into the grassy clearing. A shaft of orange sunlight turned her pelt to gold.

Stoneheart’s heart caught in his throat. The Twolegs hadn’t gotten here, yet, and he shared a relieved look with Rowanclaw. This wasn’t just the place where the star flowers grew, it was so special to he and Rowanclaw that losing it now would have been devastating.

“What are these flowers?” Crowpaw wondered.

“Don’t step on them!” Rowanclaw insisted. Nightpaw, who had been about to, froze, drawing back a step. “It’s bad luck!”

Stoneheart bent his head and sniffed one, drawing in its floral scent. He buried his muzzle into the grass and snapped it off where the stem met the ground, like he had seen Shadepaw do on the journey.

Rowanclaw hissed, “Stoneheart, what are you doing?!”

Stoneheart tucked the flower into Rowanclaw’s fur. “This might be all that ever remains of ShadowClan’s territory here,” he meowed, his voice tight with emotion. “I don’t... I don’t know if the lake has star flowers, Rowanclaw. What if we need them again?”

Rowanclaw blinked, his fur lying flat with understanding. “Alright,” he breathed.

Together, they began picking more of the herb. The others stayed back, confusion in their gazes as they watched. Only Mistyfoot looked as if she might know what was happening, here – but she, and the others, made no move to help. Stoneheart was grateful for that. This was a ShadowClan thing, in a ShadowClan place.

Eventually, Rowanclaw and Stoneheart had gathered as many star flowers as their jaws could hold. Nightpaw drew close, then, a few long stalks of grass in his jaws.

“Shadepaw taught me how to wrap plants,” he meowed. “May I...?”

Stoneheart nodded, and watched closely as Nightpaw wrapped up the flowers by their stems. His knot was a little awkward, but it held, and he gently pushed the flower bundle over to the two ShadowClan toms before pulling back, letting them do with it as they wanted.

Stoneheart locked eyes with Rowanclaw. “I want to have kits,” he confessed.

Rowanclaw’s eyes widened.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before I left,” Stoneheart went on, the words spilling from his jaws. “I was scared, about so many things – the dreams, and-and if kits were really right for us, for me. But I know, now. No matter what happens, no matter where we end up... so long as I’m with you, I’ll be home.”

Rowanclaw swallowed, and Stoneheart knew he was struggling with words. Emotion welled up in his eyes. “I...”

Stoneheart touched his nose to Rowanclaw’s. “Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind?”

“I haven’t,” Rowanclaw whispered.

“Then it’s settled,” Stoneheart declared. “Kits?”

“Kits,” Rowanclaw breathed. He turned to the others, his eyes shining. “We’re having kits!”

“Congratulations!” Feathertail purred.

Crowpaw chuckled, “Not right now, I hope?” Nightpaw’s whiskers twitched in amusement.

Mistyfoot padded forward, happiness glittering in her eyes. “I can’t wait to meet them!” she said. “I’ll be the best aunt I can, Stoneheart. No matter where we end up.”

Feeling tight with emotion, relieved of a worrisome burden, Stoneheart didn’t know how to respond. But he rubbed his muzzle against Rowanclaw’s, and knew that that felt right.

———————————————————

The sun was setting when the patrol made it back to Sunningrocks. Stoneheart felt light on his paws as he pushed through the ferns, his pelt touching Rowanclaw’s. His head had been so aflutter with thoughts of the future that he’d been useless at hunting on the way – the others had picked up his slack, thankfully. They’d managed to ambush a trio of squirrels that had been investigating a tree the Twolegs had knocked down – they weren’t fat by any means, but they were prey all the same.

Crowpaw and Feathertail went to deposit their catch on what looked to be a rather full fresh-kill pile. There was a line of returning patrols ahead of them, their jaws laden with prey. It was more food than any cat here had likely seen in a long while. Cloudtail and Tornear stood guard on either side of the pile, inspecting each catch with a sniff before it was accepted with a nod. Stoneheart felt hopeful at that sight – it looked as if the Clans were not only working together, but every cat was working hard to ensure every cat had at least something to eat.

Stoneheart glanced around Sunningrocks and found that the Clans were settling down to rest for the trip ahead. Barkface, Ryewhisper, and Littlecloud were weaving between groups of cats, depositing bundle after bundle of traveling herbs to everyone they could, and, in the medicine cat’s little corner of Sunningrocks, Brackenfur and Shadepaw were tying up yet more bundles, with Whitepaw, Smokepaw, and Spiderpaw helping.

The rest of the apprentices were darting to and from the fresh-kill pile, doling out a share of prey between every cat under the watchful gazes of Blackfoot and Mudclaw. The Clan deputies were sitting atop a flat rock, observing the three Clans for disorder.

“I’ll take these to the medicine cats,” Nightpaw meowed. He took up the bundles of star flower in his jaws, careful not to undo the knots. “They’ll know what to do with them.”

“Thanks,” Rowanclaw mewed.

Nightpaw only nodded, mouth too full to speak. He turned about and trotted over the medicine cats, touching noses with his sister before setting down the bundles. Brackenfur looked shocked at the flowers, but quickly ended up putting Nightpaw to work tying leaves up with Shadepaw.

Stoneheart glanced about, searching for any sign of the Clan leaders. Taking a pace forward, he spotted them in the shadows of Tinystar’s den, heads bent in conversation even as Weaselpaw of WindClan dropped a thrush just outside.

All around, warriors who weren’t eating or chatting were sparring; but to Stoneheart’s surprise, this seemed to be kept within a warrior’s respective Clan. Even with all of the sharing going on between ThunderClan, WindClan, and ShadowClan, sharing battle tactics was still outside of the realms of possibility. Stoneheart found that he couldn’t be too disappointed by that, though the suspicious glances seemed unnecessary.

“You!”

Stoneheart’s ears pricked. Mudclaw had gotten to his paws, his pale eyes glowering down at Stoneheart, Mistyfoot, and Rowanclaw. With a flick of his tail, he summoned them forward, looking rather satisfied when they obeyed. Stoneheart resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the WindClan deputy.

“The leaders want to speak with you chosen cats,” Mudclaw told them. His eyes flashed with what looked like annoyance – Stoneheart's whiskers twitched. With Tallstar growing older and frailer, Mudclaw seemed to have taken over a lot of WindClan’s leadership. He must be angry that he wasn’t allowed in on the meeting in Tinystar’s den.

Mistyfoot dipped her head. “I’ll be there,” she promised. Then, she glanced at Stoneheart and Rowanclaw. “Go on and give your news to Oakheart,” she said. “I’ll let you know if we need you.”

“Are you sure?” Stoneheart blinked at his sister. Would she be all right under the scrutiny of not just Tinystar, but four Clan leaders at once? “I can join you-”

Mistyfoot shook her head at him. “Oakheart will be happy to hear about his future grandkits,” she purred. “I’ll be fine.”

Without waiting for further argument, Mistyfoot took off, trotting over the stony ground to the leader’s meeting. Stoneheart felt a flutter of nervousness in his chest as she slipped into the shadows, fitting into a space beside Tinystar, who seemed to be nothing but a pair of ice-blue eyes in the darkness.

Rowanclaw nudged Stoneheart out of his trance of worry. “Come on, then,” he purred, when Stoneheart turned to look his way. “You heard Mistyfoot; she’ll be fine. I want to see the look on Oakheart’s face when we tell him the good news! Brick, too!”

Stoneheart’s heart lifted, and he followed Rowanclaw over to the elder’s ditch, light on his paws again. The thought of how his loved ones would react had his head buzzing with excitement and nervousness, and his worries about his sister melted away like dew in the sunshine.

The pair of them slid down into the ditch, the stones scattered by their paws a greater indication of their presence than their voices would’ve been. Stoneheart blinked in the dusty air, wondering if they’d interrupted something among the elders – they were all gathered in as much of a circle as the ditch would allow, their bent heads shooting up as Stoneheart and Rowanclaw appeared.

“You’re back!” Oakheart purred. He pushed through the crowd, and whatever discussion the elders had been having seemed to be over just then. Oakheart touched his nose to Rowanclaw’s and Stoneheart’s, affection shimmering in his eyes. “Did you catch much?”

“Three squirrels,” Stoneheart reported. “And some birds, but we ate those on the way.”

One of the elders, Frostfur, scoffed: “If I recall, the warrior code says that the Clan must be fed first!”

Stoneheart and Rowanclaw glanced at one another, and Stoneheart felt a prickle of shame crawl down his spine. He was about to open his mouth to defend himself, but Oakheart turned his muzzle and mewed, “Mudclaw gave them permission; and besides, Frostfur, these are uncertain times! There’s still prey for all of us in the end.”

“Tell that to StarClan!” huffed the white she-cat. Beside her, Morningflower nodded.

“I think StarClan has enough room in their hearts to understand our predicament,” Boulder rasped, rolling his eyes. “Right, Runningnose?”

The old ShadowClan medicine cat was nodding in agreement with his Clanmate. “They see how we are suffering. StarClan is not incapable of making some exceptions.”

“See? Right from a medicine cat’s mouth!” Boulder crowed. “Can’t be mad at that!”

Frostfur bristled, but said nothing more. Stoneheart was grateful for that, turning his attention back to his father. The red-brown tom had been watching the conversation with a twinkle of amusement in his eye.

“I suppose Mistyfoot is talking to the leaders, then?” Oakheart guessed. “They were looking for you chosen cats earlier.”

“We wanted to say good-bye to the forest,” Stoneheart explained. “I’m sorry if we took too long.”

“Don’t be,” Oakheart mewed, his voice softening. “You’re not the only cats taking some extra time for farewells, you know. A lot of patrols came back late, and sad – they all want to say good-bye, but there’s just not much left to see.”

Stoneheart felt a stab of sympathy. He wondered how many cats wouldn’t be able to visit the spots that meant most to them. We were lucky the grove was still intact, he thought, glancing at Rowanclaw. Who knows if it would be there tomorrow?

“Have you gotten your traveling herbs yet?” Rowanclaw wondered. Stoneheart blinked, glancing about the ditch to find that there were no bundles of leaves to be seen. “The medicine cats are handing them out.”

“They’ll get to us,” Oakheart mewed dismissively, flicking his tail. “Tell me all about your trip!”

There was a little worm of concern in Stoneheart at the way his father had so easily dismissed their concerns, but with a glance at Rowanclaw it was buried – the ginger tom was clearly very excited to get to their good news. Stoneheart launched into an explanation of their patrol, leaving out some of the more personal things said by his friends at the sight of their favorite places.

“... and then we went into ShadowClan territory,” Stoneheart explained. “There’s this grove of trees where a rare herb grows, and it’s a very special place for ShadowClan.”

“I’ve heard of it,” Oakheart said, nodding. “I’d glad you got to see it again.”

“So are we,” Rowanclaw purred. His tail was quivering when he meowed, “While we were there, we decided that we’re going to have kits, Oakheart – when we reach the lake, that is.”

Oakheart’s eyes widened, and his ears pricked. “Kits?” he repeated, sounding breathless.

“Yes,” Stoneheart said, his heart beating in his ears. “What do you think? You’ll be a grandfather, Oakheart!” Was his father happy? Upset? It was hard to tell – Oakheart's yellow eyes were difficult to read. He prayed to StarClan that the old tom would be happy.

“A grandfather...” Oakheart’s shoulders sagged, and he sounded awed at the idea. He blinked, and his eyes sparkled with happiness. The big tom thrust himself between Rowanclaw and Stoneheart, the intensity of his purr chasing away Stoneheart’s worries. “Oh, StarClan, I’m so happy for you two!”

Warmth bubbled up in Stoneheart’s chest. “I know we’re in different Clans, but I’ll make sure they know you, Father,” he breathed, taking in his father’s scent. There was no way he’d have his kits never know a cat like Oakheart – he didn’t care if the warrior code forbade it.

The Clans are going to change from this journey, he thought. We’ll all be closer in the end.

Oakheart didn’t respond, letting his presence and his purr do the talking for him. Over the elder’s back, Stoneheart met Rowanclaw’s eye. His mate looked relieved and happy that Oakheart was so pleased, and seeing the soft, hopeful expression in his eyes was almost more than Stoneheart’s heart could take.

Rowanclaw’s eyes flicked up, then, and when his expression changed, Stoneheart had to step away from his father’s embrace to see why - all four Clan leaders, along with Mistyfoot, were squeezed together atop the rock that shadowed Tinystar’s den, their pelts turned to flame by the setting sun. Russetstar stepped forward and yowled:

“Let cats from all Clans come together for a Clan meeting!”

Conversation ceased in Sunningrocks as cats began moving in to see what was happening. Stoneheart glanced back at Rowanclaw and Oakheart, the latter of whom shrugged.

“They must have come to a decision,” was all the elder guessed.

Stoneheart crawled out of the ditch, Rowanclaw and his father by his side. Sunningrocks was definitely no place for a proper Clan meeting, let alone one with three whole Clans of cats trying to vie for space to see and hear what was happening. Some settled for listening where they sat, while others clustered atop the boulders for a better view. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much room for Stoneheart and Rowanclaw – they had to settle for sitting near the outskirts of the crowd, with the other elders.

When it looked as if all the cats had gathered up, it was Tinystar who spoke: “Firstly, I want to thank each and every one of you – despite all odds, we have come together to survive this horrible ordeal. I am certain that StarClan watches us with pride, just as we, your leaders, do. These are the worst times in living memory, and I would argue they are the worst that these forest Clans have seen. Thank you for your cooperation, all of you.”

There was a murmur in the crowd – some cats looked flattered, certainly, but others were uncomfortable with such heavy praise from a leader that likely wasn’t their own.

Tinystar went on: “We have decided on our plan. Mistyfoot?”

Stoneheart’s ears pricked, and he spotted Mistyfoot stepping forward on the rock. Her presence sparked another series of conversation, which flourished as the blue-gray cat hesitated to speak. Stoneheart angled his ears to listen.

“Mistyfoot? Why her?” asked Spiderpaw.

Nearby, Sootfur muttered dubiously, “Did Tinystar secretly make her deputy or something?” Not far from him, Ashfur curled his lip in disgust at the thought.

“Certainly not!” Cinderpelt huffed. She glowered at her Clanmate, her eyes sharp, “Hush and listen before flinging wild thoughts like that around!”

Mistyfoot coughed, and silence fell. She raised her voice: “When the chosen cats made our journey, we took two different routes – one, through a Twolegplace, and the other, through a range of mountains, where we met the Tribe of Rushing Water. Both are dangerous options, but the safest and quickest by far will be to go through the mountains.”

“Will this Tribe stop us?” asked Dustpelt, whiskers twitching.

Mistyfoot blinked. “I don’t think so,” she answered. “We spoke often of what was happening here while we stayed with them; they know our ultimate goal isn’t to take their land or attack them. But it is possible they’ll be nervous about so many cats in their territory, especially in their season of frozen-water. Taking the route through the mountains, however, will save us a lot of time, and take us to the lake before leafbare falls on us.”

“That would be nice,” fretted Finchsong. “But this frozen-water sounds awfully cold...”

“She’s right,” Silverstream spoke up. “We have kits – young ones. How will we keep them warm up there?”

“There are ways to stay warm in the mountains,” Feathertail argued, raising her voice. “It will be dangerous, but Mistyfoot is right – it's the best way.”

“We wouldn’t be there long,” Mistyfoot added. “Hopefully, we’ll only spend a day and a half in the mountains.”

“The terrain will be treacherous,” Crowpaw put in. “But we’ll be able to guide you.”

The clustered Clans fluttered with nervousness. Stoneheart glanced at the chosen cats and felt their worries as his own – guiding the Clans through the mountains was the best option, and the only option that didn’t involve wasting time near a Twolegplace. There was no way Stoneheart was willing to lose more cats to Twolegs – but the mountains held just as many dangers.

Mistyfoot was looking bolstered by her friend’s voices. “It will still be a long, hard journey,” she meowed, “but together, we can make it safely. I know that, and StarClan does, too. What’s waiting for us at the lake will be worth it, I promise.”

“I hope so,” signed Snowfoot. The white tom looked tired, and Stoneheart felt a pang of sympathy for him. He’d already lost two kits, and feared for his last.

“Adding to that,” Russetstar meowed, “on this journey, there will be no room for Clan rivalries. There can be no infighting, no old wounds torn open. There will be no borders to defend, no prey to compete for. We must act as one Clan, and protect one another regardless of where they were born.”

“On the topic of kits,” Leopardstar went on, “we have decided that they will be at the center of the group at all times, joined by any injured or elders. Warriors will take turns on the outskirts, and patrolling ahead for dangers.”

Tallstar rasped, “The chosen cats will lead us, but we leaders have final say in how fast we progress. Deputies will be tasked with coordinating hunting parties and keeping us all fed.”

“It’s going to take all of us to figure that out,” Mudclaw mewed laxly, stretching.

Stoneheart felt a flash of frustration. Did he have to jab at Tinystar like that? What purpose did it serve? At least Blackclaw and Tawnypelt both looked disinterested in continuing the thought.

“Our first hurdle will be leaving the forest,” Mistyfoot meowed. Stoneheart couldn’t help but think how confident she looked, standing atop the rock and speaking the Clans. Not long ago, she would’ve been terrified of such a responsibility. Her blue eyes took in the cats below with certainty. “We’ll be heading for Barley and Ravenpaw’s barn at dawn; we can rest up there, and eat without fear of Twolegs. Then, we’ll be heading for Highstones... and beyond.”

“It will be long and perilous,” Leopardstar meowed, her amber eyes betraying no fear. “Make sure you’ve gotten your traveling herbs and eaten your last meal, and get plenty of rest. We’ve got no time to waste.”

“This forest was our home,” Tinystar said solemnly, “and we will never forget our lives here for as long as we live. Our kits, and their kits, will know where we came from... and that we left for our new lives as not four Clans, but as one.”