[TB] DAWN -- Chapter 20 (Patreon)
Content
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It was sunhigh on the dot when RiverClan arrived at the Twoleg bridge, flanked by Stoneheart and Mistyfoot. The Clan as a whole had walked silently and with purpose, heads held high despite the horror of leaving their homes since birth. Leopardstar drove them to move quickly, and not linger on what they would be leaving behind.
Tinystar was waiting for them on the Twoleg bridge, his tail wrapped around his paws. In the forest beyond, Stoneheart could see the rest of the Clans huddled together, milling about impatiently as they waited for RiverClan.
A cry went up at the sight of Leopardstar, and everyone got to their paws. Stoneheart observed the Clans, finding that the mood was tense but hopeful – but the roar of the Twoleg monsters was drawing ever closer, and they were running out of time.
“Are you all accounted for?” Tinystar asked, touching noses with Leopardstar.
“We are,” the golden leader sighed. “Let us go.”
Tinystar nodded, and stepped aside. Leopardstar led her Clan past him, and like a stream flowing into a larger river, RiverClan joined with the throng made by ShadowClan, ThunderClan, and WindClan.
Stoneheart moved to join them, Mistyfoot by his side. The two had not gone a few pawsteps, however, before Tinystar was beside them.
“I’m sorry,” the ThunderClan leader meowed, his ice blue eyes sorrowful. “I did try to convince Oakheart to stay.”
“It’s alright,” Mistyfoot sighed. Despite her words, her eyes were bright with pain. “It’s what they all wanted, in the end.”
Stoneheart nodded, his heart heavy. “StarClan will watch over them here. I just hope they don’t starve to death.”
Tinystar gave a thin smile at their acceptance. He added: “I told Oakheart to take the elders to Barley’s barn, and, should things look too bleak... living the rest of their days as a kittypet might not be a terrible option, either – especially for the injured among them.”
Mistyfoot scoffed at that idea. “I’d pay mousetails to see Speckletail as a kittypet! I’d feel bad for her Twoleg...”
“Same for Brick,” Stoneheart chuckled in agreement – but the brevity didn’t take him as it took his sister. Brick is so hurt... perhaps becoming a kittypet would be best for her...
It was out of his paws, though. Whatever fate awaited those left behind, he would not see it. As they crossed the bridge and rejoined the four Clans, Stoneheart knew that there were far, far more important things ahead – and that neither Brick nor Oakheart would ever approve of him being distracted over what lay in the past.
“We’re all here,” Mudclaw growled, lashing his tail impatiently. He was hunched over, looking very irritated with the lack of progress as Tinystar approached. “Let’s get moving already – we've burned enough daylight.”
“Agreed,” Tinystar mewed. He nodded to the WindClan deputy, and said, “I think it would be best if you led the way across the moorland, no?”
Mudclaw sniffed, getting to his paws. “Of course!” He raised his tail and announced, “Clans - to me!”
“Do you think we can avoid the Twolegs on the moors?” asked Leopardstar. All around her, the four Clans were getting to their paws. Leopardstar looked concerned, glancing at the queens in particular, who were gathering their many kits with the help of their Clanmates. “We can’t afford any incidents.”
“We sent scouts ahead to figure out where the Twolegs were while we waited for you,” Tinystar explained. “They reported that the Twoleg presence on the moorland is minimal. We ought to be able to get through safely if we stick to the outskirts of WindClan territory. From there, the way to Barley’s ought to be clear.”
Leopardstar seemed satisfied with that. She raised her muzzle, and in a sharp tone she commanded, “Tawnypelt, Falcontail – make sure no RiverClan cat is left behind. Let’s move!”
Stoneheart felt a prickle in his fur as the four Clans began to move out. It was fairly clear that each Clan was handling their own members, the huge conglomerate of cats slowly splitting into their respective groups as WindClan led the way through the forest and towards the open moorland.
That’s not how it should be, Stoneheart thought. He glanced over at the ThunderClan group, where Mistyfoot was walking with Ferncloud and Snowstep. Her blue gaze seemed just as troubled. Perhaps it will change when we’re out of the forest. Here, there are still border markers as reminders...
His paws took him to the ShadowClan group, which was trotting strongly between ThunderClan and WindClan. He caught up to Rowanclaw and Finchsong, and touched noses with his mate. Rowanclaw was looking sorrowful, his head hanging low, and Stoneheart guessed he was feeling Brick’s loss painfully hard.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Rowanclaw asked, confirming Stoneheart’s thought.
Stoneheart nodded. “I think so,” he said, allowing himself to be encouraging. “She’s old, but she’s tough. She's been through much worse, I think.”
Rowanclaw sighed, and picked up his head. He pressed his shoulder into Stoneheart’s side, looking for comfort. “I just wish we’d known... I wouldn’t have made such a big deal about the kits if I had.”
“It’s done, now,” was all Stoneheart could say. He licked Rowanclaw around the ear. “If we worry too much, Willowkit and Rushkit might think something is really wrong.”
“He’s right,” Finchsong piped in. “I don’t think those two really know what’s happening just yet. They don’t need their favorite uncles looking so glum.” She nodded ahead to her two kittens, who were both walking alongside their father. They looked excited, their tiny tails bolt upright and eyes shining.
Rowanclaw took a deep breath. “Well! We can’t have glum kits, can we?” he exhaled, his eyes brightening.
The dark ginger tom trotted ahead and caught up with Cedarheart and the kits, his tail up and voice light as he spoke with them. Stoneheart felt his heart warm as Rowanclaw let Rushkit clamber onto his back for a badger ride, leaving Willowkit to scramble atop Cedarheart’s back to keep up. The warmth doubled as Rowanclaw looked back, catching Stoneheart’s eye.
“You’ll make wonderful fathers,” Finchsong purred.
“Not for a time, yet,” Stoneheart chuckled, his heart lifting. “But... you’re right. I think we’ll do fine.”
———————————————————
The sun was arcing towards the horizon as the four Clans trekked across the moorland. The devastation done to this part of the forest was enough to shock everyone to silence, even the kits – the scars dug into the earth here were the worst of them all, and it seemed like every cat was mourning what had once been sweeping, rolling hills and long grasses.
Stoneheart kept himself to ShadowClan’s group, but that didn’t stop him from paying attention to the other three Clans for any signs of trouble. Each Clan had picked their best lookouts to move to the outskirts to warn for Twolegs – but, as the large cluster of cats plodded across the mud, the few Twolegs or monsters they saw had little interest in the cats, if they could be seen at all.
“Poor WindClan,” Rowanclaw murmured. “This must hurt so much...”
Stoneheart glanced over to the WindClan cats, who were trotting through the remains of their territory with their gazes set forward. He spotted Crowpaw with his mentor, Mudclaw, at the head of the entire group, his thin shoulders hunched, and Stoneheart recalled what the WindClan apprentice had said during their last patrol in the forest.
“They've already said good-bye,” Stoneheart whispered to Rowanclaw. “Over and over again... WindClan is strong, and proud – they'll make it through.”
Rowanclaw’s eyes flashed with concern. “Have you seen Tallstar? He’s so old... what if he doesn’t live through the journey?”
Stoneheart spotted the WindClan leader towards the back, his tail dragging in the dirt. Onewhisker and Ashfoot were on either side of him, supporting the leader when he swayed this way or that. Stoneheart felt a prickle run down his spine – what if Tallstar died on the journey? What would WindClan do? Should he have even come at all? Should he have stayed behind with Oakheart and Brick?
The thought of a Clan leader staying behind baffled Stoneheart. Without Tallstar, WindClan likely wouldn’t have any motivation to leave. StarClan, keep him safe... maybe seeing the lake will give him new life?
He felt Rowanclaw’s eyes on him, expecting his thoughts. “It will be fine,” Stoneheart insisted. “We’ve got every medicine cat the Clans have, and with all of us here...”
“I know,” Rowanclaw sighed, lowering his muzzle, “but I just... I don’t like the idea of Mudclaw leading WindClan, especially if he’s going to do it like he’s been doing it. He’s too...”
“Aggressive?”
Rowanclaw nodded in agreement. “If the Clan leadership is going to get shaken up... I just don’t think we need that sort of arrangement.”
“It’s not up to us,” Stoneheart reminded his mate. “That’s WindClan’s problem.”
“It’ll be our problem if Mudclaw thinks he can grab more territory than his Clan needs,” Rowanclaw pointed out.
Stoneheart frowned, feeling troubled. His mate was right – with an all-new land ahead of them, the Clans couldn’t afford to get greedy. But who were they to decide what went on in another Clan’s politics? They weren’t even leaders or deputies.
“I know I sound paranoid,” Rowanclaw murmured, flicking his tail apologetically. “It’s just something I’ve been thinking about... and I’m sure it’s in the back of everyone’s mind right now. ThunderClan has no deputy, WindClan basically has no leader, who knows what’s going on with RiverClan... I’m just glad Russetstar and Blackfoot are in good health.”
Stoneheart’s whiskers twitched. “So am I,” he agreed. Russetstar and Blackfoot were together at the head of the ShadowClan group, their heads bent in quiet conversation. Thank StarClan they’ve got level heads!
The journey through the old moorland took them to sunset, and as they bid a final good-bye to the once-rolling hills the sky was painted in dark purples and oranges, with a few stars blinking into sight above. The Clans regrouped just outside of the fences that ringed the Twoleg farm, the Clan leaders moving together to speak about how to proceed from there.
Finally, it was Russetstar who announced: “Queens and kits to the center – these Twolegs have dogs, and there are rats in the ditches. Whatever happens, stay together.”
“I’d like to see any dog try to attack us!” chuckled Cloudtail. “It’d be foolish as a kit with how many warriors are here.”
“We can’t take any risks,” Tinystar countered. “Keep your eyes and ears open – we're almost to the barn.”
With all warriors in agreement, they resumed their trek again – this time, Tinystar took the lead from Mudclaw. The white tip of his tail was like a beacon in the growing shadows, and the ThunderClan leader was very familiar with this part of the territory as Ravenpaw, the loner who lived with Barley, was one of his best friends, and a former ThunderClan cat besides.
Stoneheart thought that their arrival at this time of day was fortuitous – it was very unlikely that the dogs were going to be a problem, but he wasn’t keen at all on encountering rats again after all the trouble they’d given him on the first journey. He kept his eyes locked on the ditch to their side, ready to yowl if he saw any indication of a swarm of the beady-eyed creatures.
StarClan seemed to be on their side – it was either that, or the fact that attacking such an overwhelming number of cats had no appeal to the ditch rats. The group was moving swiftly along the fence, tightly bunched together, and soon enough the roof of Barley’s barn cut through the starry horizon.
The old barn was a mainstay for the Clans, a stopping point on nearly every journey to Highstones. Stoneheart had only been here a pawful of times – for his own Moonstone journey and the rest before he and the chosen cats left the forest in greenleaf for the unknown. He was thankful for the place, and the friendly cats that lived there, and Stoneheart kept his eyes open for them now that they were clear of the rats.
Tinystar slowed the group as they approached the barn, much to many cats’ annoyance. A few kits began to mewl and whine, wailing for food, while some warriors began to grumble. Stoneheart himself felt his paws begin to throb, but he had walked for long enough before and knew better than to complain about it.
“It’s all right,” soothed Tinystar, waving his tail. “We can’t just barge in.”
“You’re right,” chuckled a voice from behind, “you won’t all fit in the barn!”
Almost every warrior was brisling in shock, their claws unsheathing. Stoneheart whipped around, startled to find that Ravenpaw, the sleek black loner who was Tinystar’s friend, was simply standing there, looking quite shocked himself.
Tinystar pushed through the crowd, purring as he touched noses with Ravenpaw. The loner accepted the greeting, but was still clearly stunned by the sheer number of cats that stood between himself and his home. He couldn’t seem to focus on any one cat, his eyes darting to and fro.
“T-Tinystar,” Ravenpaw was chuckling, still, his eyes wide, “this is...”
“It’s every Clan, yes,” Tinystar murmured, answering the question the loner hadn’t yet posed. “We’re leaving the forest, Ravenpaw.”
“I...” Ravenpaw looked at a loss for words. He shook himself, and then mewed, “Firstly, let’s get you all out of the open. It’s like to rain tonight. There’s room in the other barn, I think...”
As the loner ushered the Clans away from his barn, Stoneheart felt a drop of water land on his muzzle, as if in answer to Ravenpaw’s words. By the time the Clans had been led away and stuffed inside what Ravenpaw described as the ruins of the Twoleg’s first barn, it was drizzling a cold leaf-fall rain outside.
The tumbledown barn proved to have enough space, though, and while the roof had holes in places there was enough cover to shelter the four Clans as a whole. It was just about empty but for some old wooden Twoleg containers stacked up in the corner, and where there wasn’t grass poking up from between the wooden slats beneath the cat’s paws, there was plenty of old straw and moss for nests.
Stoneheart followed Russetstar and Blackfoot to the darkest corner of the barn, where it smelled like wet earth and mushrooms and felt just a little bit like the home they’d lost. Stoneheart began to claw together nests, ignoring the stabbing of hunger in his belly and the soreness of his muscles from the walk. Now that they were here, it felt almost like they had made it halfway already – and they’d done it without losing anyone else.
“This should work just fine,” Tinystar breathed. “Thank you, Ravenpaw.”
Ravenpaw was still watching the Clan cats stream in. “Of course, Tinystar,” the loner mewed quietly. “How could I leave you all out in the rain?”
“Where’s Barley?” Graystripe wondered, coming forward with a flicking tail.
“He’s out ratting,” Ravenpaw explained. “I should catch him before he comes across this, honestly... but Tinystar...”
“Hm?” ThunderClan’s leader tilted his head. “What is it, Ravenpaw?”
“Where’s Sandstorm?” Ravenpaw wondered, finally looking away from the stream of cats walking in. His eyes focused intently on Tinystar, gleaming with curiosity. “I don’t see her anywhere...”
Stoneheart swallowed, and turned his ears away. That was not a conversation he needed to hear, even if the barn was small enough that he was certain nearly every cat would overhear whether they wanted to or not.
“Is that good enough, Finchsong?” he asked instead, looking to his friend.
Finchsong nodded. “Perfect,” she purred. The gray tabby queen circled in her nest and laid down, pulling Willowkit and Rushkit to her with her forelegs. She gave each a thorough bath; one they were far too exhausted to resist as they normally would have.
“Wanna play...” mumbled Willowkit, his eyes sleepy. “Larchkit...”
“You can play with Larchkit tomorrow,” Finchsong soothed. “Now, rest, kittens...”
Stoneheart left them to it, a little tickled that the ShadowClan kits considered Larchkit their friend. He paused in his work to look over the four Clans as a whole, watching them make themselves at home in this strange place. There was some reluctance – Dustpelt didn’t look pleased at the wooden walls or the roof, and Blackclaw of RiverClan was sniffing the perimeter as if something might crawl in and strike them – but they were all safe, and sound.
“Stoneheart, you should rest,” Rowanclaw mewed, coming up to his side.
“I should hunt,” Stoneheart countered. “We’re all starving, and there’s plenty of prey around here.”
Rowanclaw shook his head. “Come tomorrow, we’ll be out of Clan territory – you'll need all your rest to lead the way.”
“Mistyfoot is leading the way,” Stoneheart pointed out.
“She won’t be doing it alone,” Rowanclaw returned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “She can’t. She’ll need her brother, and her friends, by her side. Let me do the hunting; I won’t take no for an answer, okay?”
Stoneheart purred, and rubbed his muzzle against Rowanclaw’s. He felt a rush of love towards his mate, grateful again that he had not been left behind. “Thank you.”
Rowanclaw flicked his nose with his tail as he trotted out, joining Wolftooth and Talonstripe before they slipped out through the broken barn door. Stoneheart settled himself in a nest, resting his head on his paws, watching hunting patrols from the other three Clans trot out with their mission in mind.
“... I’ll take you all to Highstones,” Ravenpaw was saying, his voice piercing through the quiet again. “The least I can do is make sure you don’t run into any Twolegs tomorrow...”
“Thank you, Ravenpaw,” Tinystar replied, gratitude and sorrow strong in his voice.
“It’s no problem,” Ravenpaw insisted. “Now, let me go find Barley... If this is the Clans’ last night in the forest, I want it to be a feast!”
Stoneheart sighed, closing his eyes. As the darkness settled in, all he could hear was the soft breathing of his Clanmates around him and the patter of rain on the roof. His last breaths were of the water nourishing the green things around him, encouraging them to grow and move...
… and that felt right.