[TB] DAWN -- Chapter 19 (Patreon)
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Stoneheart stared at his father, stunned. The three cats stood in silence, pale dawn light turning their pelts to gold while songbirds chirped in the willows that sheltered RiverClan’s camp. The roar of Twoleg monsters was duller here, compared to the lands across the river, but that was not at all what Stoneheart was focusing on.
Oakheart... isn’t coming with us?
“Y-You can’t mean that, Father!” Mistyfoot breathed. She took a step towards the bracken-colored tom, her eyes wide. “Why would you want to stay here?”
“I told you,” Oakheart rasped back, “my life is here. All of it.”
“But what about us?” Stoneheart found his voice to be weak, quiet. “What about my kits? You... you...” You promised that you would see them! He just couldn’t believe that his father had been lying about that!
Oakheart flicked his tail, and his eyes rested on his kits. “The two of you... I am so proud of you, and all you’ve done. What other father can say that both his kits were chosen by StarClan for a prophecy?” He paused, emotion shimmering in his gaze. “But... you both know that I won’t be able to make the journey... and I’m not the only one.”
Stoneheart felt a lump in this throat that threatened to choke him. His father had been injured by a badger at the start of greenleaf, leaving him with a limp and forcing him to retire to the elder’s den. Stoneheart felt claws in his heart – he really hadn’t thought of how a cat like that might make the journey, and he always thought of those things!
“I’m sure we could manage,” Mistyfoot insisted, the fur along her spine bristling. “It’s not impossible!”
Oakheart blinked at his daughter. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be, for me. But...” his gaze turned to Stoneheart. “What about Brick? Or Morningflower, whose hearing is starting to fail? Frostfur is losing her sight, and Speckletail is aching. We’re old.”
Stoneheart swallowed. “So, you’re all staying behind?” he guessed.
Oakheart nodded. “We’ve discussed it,” he explained, “and we elders have decided that it’s the best thing, for everyone.”
“Tinystar wouldn’t allow it!” Mistyfoot insisted.
Stoneheart shook his head, and added, “Russetstar wouldn’t, either!”
“We’ve spoken to the leaders,” Oakheart said calmly. “And they’ve agreed to let us make our own choices in the matter. As elders, it is a respect we’re owed.”
In a flash, Stoneheart recalled how Oakheart and Tinystar had been talking in private not long ago – had they been saying good-bye? And Brick...? Oh, no... Even as he knew he would miss the old she-cat, Stoneheart knew that she would never make it out of the forest – the injuries she had suffered at the paws of BloodClan were too severe.
It seemed to settle in, now. Mistyfoot fell onto her haunches, shivering. Stoneheart found himself only able to stare blankly at his father, his throat tight. This is the last time I will see his face, he thought. How can that be?
Stoneheart struggled to memorize every bit of Oakheart, from his squarish face and amber eyes, to the color of his coat and the way he smelled like oak bark and comfrey. This cat who had raised his kits when their mother had abandoned them, this cat who had protected them from the judgment of their Clanmates, this cat who had served as ThunderClan’s deputy for seasons... this cat was Oakheart, his father.
Oakheart’s gaze flickered between them both, and his expression faltered. The calm strength he was trying to exude for their sake melted into sorrow, and love. He pushed between Mistyfoot and Stoneheart, purring, letting them lean on him and breathe in his scent one last time – something that Stoneheart took great advantage of.
“I am old,” Oakheart murmured, “and all that I am is here in this forest. In the end... it’s the duty of us elders to leave the future to you young cats. I promise, kits, I will see you again – but I certainly hope that it’s not for a good, long time.
“It’s all lying before you,” Oakheart went on, his voice a whisper. “StarClan chose you both to make this lake the place where the Clans can live out their days in peace. When I...” His voice faltered. “When I am walking among the stars... I will to look down on you, and your kin, and know that I made the right choice.”
Stoneheart shivered, his stomach clenching. On the other side of Oakheart, Mistyfoot choked on a sob, gasping into her father’s pelt. She sniffed, burying her nose into his fur.
“Father...” Stoneheart murmured. I will never forget you, Stoneheart decided. All that you taught me... I’ll teach my kits, and their kits...
They stayed like that for what could have been an eternity, silently mourning their father. But, as much as Stoneheart wished that they could remain like this forever, the universe knew that it could not be – a wail rose from RiverClan’s camp, one that made the willows tremble. Another voice joined it, then another, and another, until it seemed like an entire Clan of cats was yowling.
Stoneheart pulled away from his father, ears angled towards the cacophony. He glanced over Oakheart’s back at Mistyfoot, who looked just as confused. They’ll attract the Twolegs with that racket! What are they thinking?
“Mudfur is dead,” Oakheart explained, as if he could hear his son’s thoughts. “RiverClan is singing him to StarClan.”
Stoneheart felt a prickle of guilt that was swept away by a feeling of immense sorrow. Mudfur was dead, the Clans were leaving, and Oakheart was staying behind. How else did one commend all that loss to StarClan? Do RiverClan cats in StarClan sing for the forest? he wondered.
“Come,” Oakheart said. Briskly, he raised his tail. “I need to speak with Leopardstar.”
Heart tight, Stoneheart followed his father through the grass. Mistyfoot took up the rear, dragging her paws as Oakheart led the way down to the three great willows. The three cats pushed their way through the reed barrier as the sound of RiverClan’s song died down.
Stoneheart didn’t really have it in him to examine RiverClan’s camp too closely – they would be leaving it behind, after all – but he did see that the Clan was gathered around a willow root that stuck up sharply from the earth. Mudfur’s body was laid out before it, his Clanmates gathered in a circle of mourning – they were all so focused on their loss that they didn’t notice Oakheart, Stoneheart, and Mistyfoot approaching.
“Mothwing... you’re RiverClan’s medicine cat, now,” Brackenfur was saying. He rested his tail against the lean golden she-cat's shoulder. “Whatever support you need, we will give you.”
Mothwing’s gaze was shimmering with sadness as she looked down at her mentor. Not just her mentor, Stoneheart recalled. Before becoming a medicine cat, Mudfur had had Leopardstar, Mothwing’s mother. I can’t imagine what she’s feeling right now, but... he glanced at Oakheart, feeling grief tug at his heart. I can come close.
“Thank you,” Mothwing managed. “Mudfur taught me well, but... our time together was limited.”
Littlecloud stepped forward, assuring, “We’re here, for anything you need.” Beside him, Barkface nodded in agreement.
For a moment, Stoneheart’s grief was punctuated by just how different medicine cat culture was from the rest of their Clans. Even some of RiverClan seemed uncomfortable by the other medicine cat’s ready offers for help.
Feathertail, though, was not: “You will do amazingly, Mothwing,” she assured. “You’re a wonderful medicine cat.”
Mothwing looked surprised by the compliment; but she said nothing, looking at Feathertail with wide eyes.
It was in that lull that Oakheart decided to make his presence known: “Leopardstar, may we speak?”
Leopardstar snapped to attention, her eyes narrowing at Oakheart in the crowd despite the way that grief tugged at her features. The other RiverClan cats snapped to attention, shocked that the three of them were there at all. At a word from Tawnypelt, the tension ebbed down to a low murmur.
“Speak,” Leopardstar ordered.
“I come on behalf of the elders of ShadowClan, ThunderClan, and WindClan,” Oakheart meowed, raising his voice strongly. “We have decided to remain behind, and we seek asylum in your territory.”
Shocked mews rose from the crowd. Stoneheart felt his hackle rise as the cats chattered, some wondering if Oakheart and the others had gone mad, while some other wondered what the point even was in asking – yet, ultimately, they turned to Leopardstar for the final word.
Part of Stoneheart wanted her to say no, to tell Oakheart how foolish and mouse-brained he was being. He wanted his father’s plan to be ruined, so that he would have to come to the lake – but that was not to be:
Chin lifted high, Leopardstar answered, “I understand. Your service to the Clans will never be forgotten. You may stay in RiverClan territory.”
Oakheart dipped his head. “Thank you.”
“Leopardstar,” rasped an old, very dark gray she-cat. “We would like to stay behind, as well.” Stoneheart had to think for a moment to wonder who she, and the brown tom beside her, were, but then it hit him – These are RiverClan’s elders!
“Shadepelt!” snapped Blackclaw from the crowd. “Are you mad?”
“No,” said Shadepelt in response. “Loudbelly and I were talking last night, and we think it would be the best thing for us. We can show the other elders the best places to hunt, or hide, and we can die in this forest where we have lived all our lives.”
“We’re too old to start over,” Loudbelly added, looking out over his Clanmates. There was a bit of amusement in his gaze. “You know all our stories, and you’ll take them with you.”
Leopardstar blinked down at her elders, frowning. For a moment, it seemed like she might deny them this choice, but in the end, she dipped her head in assent. “If that is what you wish,” she meowed, “then you can stay behind. We will not forget either of you.”
The dappled she-cat nodded down to Tawnypelt, and the tortoiseshell cleared her throat and got to her paws. “RiverClan! It is long past time to leave! Hurry – the others await us at the Twoleg bridge!”
Quickly, the Clan broke up and began to move. Shadepelt and Loudbelly dragged Mudfur’s body to the side, into what Stoneheart assumed was the elder’s den. Stoneheart did his best to be out of the way as RiverClan gathered up to leave, cats crossing the clearing to and fro with bristling tail and twitching whiskers.
“Are you coming with us?” asked a big golden tom. Stoneheart guessed he was an apprentice, from the soft fur ringing his cheeks, and he was looking up at Tawnypelt, who was speaking to the golden loner that Stoneheart recognized from the Twoleg cages. What was a loner doing here?
The loner flicked an ear. “I will be, yes,” he answered. “Go and help your siblings, now, Goldenpaw! Hurry!”
As the apprentice scurried off, the loner turned to Tawnypelt, who was purring affectionately at him. “Thank you for coming, Root,” she mewed, touching her nose to his. Stoneheart blinked, shocked. I suppose that answers my question...
“I did say I’d be there for their warrior ceremony...” Root responded.
It didn’t take long for RiverClan to be ready – by that time, the elders of the other Clans had arrived, coming through the reed tunnel with muddy paws and tired gazes. Oakheart approached them, likely telling them that Leopardstar had agreed to their proposal. As RiverClan filtered out of the camp, the Clan elders filtered in, observing their new home with wide, sorrowful eyes.
“Good-bye,” Mistyfoot murmured. “I won’t forget you.” She stepped forward, touching noses with Frostfur and Speckletail. She drew away, confusion in her gaze, and asked, “Where is Longtail?”
“He’s going with you,” Frostfur answered. “Tinystar insisted. He’s nearly healed from his injuries, and his other senses still work fine.”
“He’ll be a warrior again by the lake, I’m sure,” Speckletail added, her sigh sounding a touch envious. “There’s still plenty of youth in him.”
Mistyfoot exhaled, relief clouding her gaze. Stoneheart couldn’t help but breathe a sigh, too – at least they wouldn’t be leaving everyone behind.
He looked out over the crowd and found one cat he knew he had to say good-bye to – Brick. The old ginger she-cat was leaning on Runningnose for support, pain in her gaze. Seeing her like that, pained from even moving across the forest, Stoneheart knew for sure that she never would have made the journey to the lake, let alone across the mountains. There was just no way.
“I’ll take her from here,” Stoneheart murmured. Runningnose nodded and stepped away, and Stoneheart put his shoulder beneath Brick’s.
The old she-cat sagged, and Stoneheart steadied himself to keep her stable. He took them to the far corner of camp, letting Brick lay down in the sunshine. Stoneheart wrapped himself around her, lapping along her pelt, sorrow prickling through his pelt.
“I said good-bye to Rowanclaw,” Brick rasped. “So, I suppose it’s your turn, hm?”
Stoneheart didn’t know how to respond. His farewell was stuck in his throat, like a frog caught between his paws, trying to escape but failing until it died miserably.
“I think you’ll do just fine,” Brick murmured, resting her head on her paws. “ShadowClan, too. It’s a better place than it used to be... keep it good there for me, hm?”
“I’ll try,” Stoneheart replied. His mew was barely a whisper. “Brick... thank you.”
“Oh? For what?”
“For all you’ve done, for me and for Rowanclaw, especially,” Stoneheart explained. “Without you, he... well, he never would have figured himself out. We might never have been together without you.”
Brick chuckled at that, a raspy, almost painful sound. “So dramatic!” she laughed. “Do you really think that he wouldn’t have figured it out eventually? No matter how far you go, you can’t escape who you are, you know.”
Stoneheart swallowed. “I know,” he responded. The grief was beginning to rise again as, over the old she-cat's back, he could see Oakheart and the other elders sorting out their dens amidst the chaos of RiverClan’s evacuation. Shadepelt and Loudbelly were saying good-bye to Dawnflower’s kits one-by-one, and Frostfur was helping to carry a packet of herbs out of camp for Mothwing. Brackenfur and Barkface had the apprentices working double time to carry out all the supplies they’d need, while Tawnypelt and Leopardstar checked each cat at the entrance to make sure everyone was accounted for.
“You’d best get going,” Brick muttered. She nudged Stoneheart, affection in her sleepy gaze. “Tinystar was serious about leaving without you – you don’t want to leave Rowanclaw alone again, do you?”
Stoneheart trembled, but he rose to his paws. He pushed his nose into Brick’s fur, breathing in her scent one last time. It was ShadowClan through and through, but beneath it there was a faint sour odor that she had always carried – the weakness of her body, growing stronger and stronger.
StarClan, if you’re listening... please, take her. I don’t know if she believes in you, but... I believe in her.
He didn’t know if that would be enough.
Stoneheart gave Brick one last grateful blink before he trotted away. He met with Mistyfoot as the last of RiverClan’s cats departed, and the two of them looked back one last time at their father. Oakheart was talking to Leopardstar, likely promising to keep everyone safe – whatever it was, the conversation was cut short. Leopardstar spent one last moment observing her empty camp before she turned to Mistyfoot and Stoneheart, her eyes hard.
“Come,” she said, simply. “It’s done. There’s no use looking back.”
The spotted she-cat slipped through the reed tunnel and was gone. Stoneheart glanced at Mistyfoot, who was still staring at their father.
“She's right, you know,” Stoneheart murmured.
“Does it get easier?” Mistyfoot wondered. “Saying good-bye, I mean.”
Stoneheart felt the lump in his throat again. “No,” he said. “Not for everyone.”
Mistyfoot sighed and headed through the reed tunnel, her gaze unreadable. Stoneheart cast one last look at all he was leaving behind and, not for the first time, turned away.
Good-bye, he thought. Pain clutched at his chest. And StarClan watch over you all...