[TB] DAWN -- Chapter 21 (Patreon)

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Stoneheart woke to the faint scent of blood.

He raised his head, shocked, any chance of returning to sleep fleeing like a startled rabbit – had something happened in the night? Was the barn not as safe as Ravenpaw had promised?

Yet, when he looked around, his eyes adjusting quickly to the predawn darkness, he found nothing amiss. Cats from every Clan were still snoring softly within their respective groups, their flanks rising and falling gently in the shadows.

Stoneheart got to his paws, taking a moment to groom his chest fur. Where had the smell of blood come from, then, if everything was all right inside the barn?

Carefully, he picked his way out of the nest he shared with Rowanclaw. His mate shifted and rolled onto his side, exhaling. Stoneheart stared at the ginger tom’s peaceful expression, and, with a flash of warmth, wondered what he was dreaming of.

Stoneheart put that aside. He opened his jaws, trying to draw in the tang of blood in a space flooded with the mingling scents of four Clans. It was difficult, but he detected a small trail headed outside. Stoneheart dropped into his quietest stalking crouch and followed it, weaving easily among the sleeping forms of his Clanmates.

He slipped outside through a crack in the big barn door, and scented the air again. It was much clearer out here, and the trail of blood led around the corner. Stoneheart pressed his side to the barn wall and crept forward, through the overgrown grass. He poked his muzzle around the corner and blinked in surprise.

Mistyfoot was there, sitting with Tinystar. They were both staring out towards Highstones, the setting moonlight striking their pelts silver. As Stoneheart watched, Mistyfoot turned and licked at a long scratch on her shoulder – the source of the blood-scent.

Her eye must have caught on the gleam of Stoneheart’s, for her whiskers twitched, and she raised her muzzle. “Stoneheart!” she whispered.

Caught, Stoneheart pulled himself out of the shadows. Both Tinystar and Mistyfoot were watching him, now, as he trotted towards them. His fur prickled, and he hoped that none of his Clanmates were awake – a ShadowClan cat, caught out of stealth! How embarassing.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Stoneheart guessed, sitting down on his haunches beside his sister. He leaned over and looked to Tinystar, and found the answer regardless of what the ThunderClan leader said. He looked tired, his ice-blue eyes glowing with sadness.

“I think I rolled over onto a thorn,” Mistyfoot admitted, chuckling. “The nests were built so quick; I don’t think anyone had time to check!”

Makes sense, Stoneheart thought. He glanced at his sister’s wound and saw that it wasn’t terribly deep... but it was quite long, for a thorn. He decided not to question it.

“We were talking of the day ahead,” Tinystar rumbled on. “We’ve a long way, from the sound of things.”

Stoneheart nodded in agreement. “We do.”

“Then perhaps we ought to wake the others,” Tinystar decided. He got to his paws and stretched, his small body forming a half-moon shape from the tips of his toes to his tail. “I’ll get the leaders. You two wake the Clans.”

Both Stoneheart and Mistyfoot dipped their heads as Tinystar trotted past them, rounding the corner and heading back into the barn. When he was out of sight, Stoneheart turned to his sister, feeling a worry in his pelt – Mistyfoot's gaze was full of concern as she looked after her leader.

“He hasn’t chosen a deputy, yet?” Stoneheart guessed.

Mistyfoot shook her head. “He won’t hear of it,” she whispered. “Not even Ravenpaw or Graystripe could convince him.”

Stoneheart blinked at his sister in sympathy, but he felt a flash of frustration towards Tinystar. Surely by now he had to see that leaving ThunderClan without a deputy was going to put them in danger? Sandstorm was taken by the Twolegs in a monster... I doubt even Branch could find her!

“Who do you think it should be?” Stoneheart asked.

Mistyfoot frowned, and looked down at her paws. She looked uncomfortable, and Stoneheart wondered if she believed that Sandstorm might come back, too, like Tinystar clearly did. He regretted asking, for a moment, but he was genuinely curious, and worried for his sister in her Clan’s shaky situation.

“M-Maybe Graystripe, or Cloudtail?” Mistyfoot mewed. “Or... Mousefur? But I don’t think any of them want it.”

Stoneheart held back what he was about to say – that these cats might not have a choice in the matter. For ThunderClan’s safety, they needed a deputy. How long could they last without one?

“What about you?” Stoneheart dared.

Mistyfoot started, her eyes widening. “Stoneheart...”

“You’re qualified,” Stoneheart hissed. “And I don’t think any cat would be upset, not after all you’ve done, all you’re going to do on this journey...”

Mistyfoot turned her gaze away. “I... I’ve never trained an apprentice, Stoneheart – I failed Shrewpaw!”

Stoneheart sighed. He saw the pain her shoulders and regretted pressing – he knew she still felt the weight of her first and only apprentice’s misfortune, killed by a badger not even a moon into his apprenticeship.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, touching his nose to her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Mistyfoot breathed. She rasped her tongue around his ear. “Thank you for the concern... but I think this is a ThunderClan issue. We’ll handle it.”

Stoneheart nodded in understanding.

Together, they got to their paws and headed inside the barn. They had dallied too long on Tinystar’s request, and found that the ThunderClan leader had already awakened the Clan leadership – the leaders and medicine cats were gathered tight in their own corner of the barn, heads close together. Blackfoot and Tawnypelt were walking among the Clans, waking groups of warriors with prodding paws.

Stoneheart glanced at the cluster of leaders – Tallstar was not among them, instead sleeping with Onewhisker off with the WindClan cats. Mudclaw was representing WindClan now, it seemed. Recalling Rowanclaw’s misgivings the day before, the thought made Stoneheart wary. Was Mudclaw making the best of a bad situation, or did he have other motives?

He put it out of his mind – there was no time to worry about WindClan. Stoneheart headed for Rowanclaw, who was still sleeping, and woke his mate with a nudge.

“I don’t wanna patrol, Blackfoot...” the ginger tom complained. “Get someone else...”

“Wake up, Rowanclaw,” Stoneheart chuckled. “It’s time.”

His tone must have broken Rowanclaw’s dream, for he opened his eyes with a somber expression. He lifted his head and touched noses with Stoneheart.

“Go get fresh-kill for the others,” Stoneheart asked. “There should be leftovers from last night, and we’ll need all our strength.”

Rowanclaw nodded in agreement, and got to his paws. Stoneheart moved on to wake Finchsong and Cedarheart, then their kits. Blackfoot had already woken the bulk of ShadowClan’s warriors, so Stoneheart moved on to WindClan.

Crowpaw was first. The thin gray tom woke almost instantly, as if he hadn’t been able to sleep. Together, they roused WindClan. On the other side of the barn, Mistyfoot and Feathertail were handling ThunderClan and RiverClan, and soon enough the small space was bustling with four Clans worth of alert, awake cats.

Fresh-kill was distributed, rationed out between the four Clans by the deputies and Cinderpelt, who stood in for ThunderClan. There was enough for them all, more prey than any Clan had seen in the moons since the Twolegs came. As orange dawn light filtered in through the cracks in the barn walls, Stoneheart felt full up, even though he had split his prey with Rowanclaw.

“Wouldn’t this place make a good home?” Falcontail suggested, raising his muzzle. He swiped his tongue along his jaws. “There’s plenty of prey, and shelter. No Twoleg destruction... no need to journey...”

Blackclaw was nodding along with his Clanmate. “No need to move who-knows-where to some lake!” he agreed.

Stoneheart felt a flash of annoyance. This was not their home!

Tawnypelt seemed to agree: “This place isn’t for us,” she snapped, glowering at Falcontail. “A whole Clan staying here just isn’t possible.”

“RiverClan will not force out others to make our home,” Leopardstar said evenly. Her muzzle was raised high, and Stoneheart was shocked that the RiverClan leader was contradicting her son. But Stoneheart also saw a flash of black fur, and noted that Ravenpaw had likely arrived just in time to hear Falcontail’s entire suggestion.

If Ravenpaw was bothered, he made no inclination. Instead, the once-ThunderClan cat looked out over the four Clans with an impossibly sad expression. “Is it time?” he asked.

“It is,” Tinystar meowed.

Ravenpaw took a deep breath, then sighed. “Then... we should go, without delay,” he decided.

“Everyone, form up!” Mudclaw’s yowl split the air, stirring cats from their post-meal sharing tongues. The dark brown tabby’s tail was standing straight up. “We’re moving out!”

Stoneheart felt Rowanclaw tremble beside him. “It’ll be okay,” Stoneheart assured. All around him, cats from every Clan were rising to their paws, stretching or shaking out their pelts. Slowly, they began to trickle out of the barn and into the dawn.

“Will it?” Rowanclaw murmured. “It’s all going away, you know?”

Stoneheart felt a stab of sorrow for his mate, and for everyone around him. Very few of them knew what it was like beyond their own borders within the forest, and even fewer knew what lay ahead. He felt fortunate to have that familiarity, but also lonely, too.

“I’m here,” Stoneheart said. “Whatever happens next, we handle together.”

Rowanclaw seemed happy about that. Together they rose and joined with Finchsong and Cedarheart, who were near the back of the ShadowClan group. Both Willowkit and Rushkit were dancing around their parent’s paws, excited about the adventure ahead of them.

We can do this, Stoneheart thought. The crowd of cats was edging closer and closer to the outside, passing between Tawnypelt and Dustpelt, both of whom were counting cats meticulously to ensure no one was left behind.

It is our destiny.

———————————————————

The Clans reached Highstones by sunhigh, their speedy trip aided both by Ravenpaw’s guidance and the lack of Twoleg monsters on the Thunderpath. The cats clustered on the ridge above Mothermouth, looking down at the trail that led down into the depths, towards the Moonstone below.

Stoneheart looked down. Tinystar, Leopardstar, Tallstar, and Russetstar were heading into the cave, Brackenfur, Mothwing, Littlecloud, and Barkface following behind. It was one last effort to speak to StarClan before they left the forest, and the Moonstone, behind forever.

I hope they can get some sort of message, Stoneheart thought earnestly. He was no expert in the matters of StarClan, but their guidance would be very helpful now – every cat in all four Clans needed some hope.

It did no good to worry, though. Stoneheart turned away. StarClan was better left to those who had experience in the matter. He looked to the warriors spread out behind him and knew that this was what he was better suited for.

“How long do you think it’ll be?” Nightpaw was asking. His tail was trembling with anticipation, something Stoneheart hadn’t seen since the chosen cats had set out on their first journey.

The small black tom looked to his sister, who was perched on the edge of the cliff. Stoneheart could see Shadepaw’s tail trembling, too, but not with eagerness. “I don’t know,” she said glumly. “Could be all day.”

She’s upset she got left behind, Stoneheart thought, sharing a glance with Nightpaw. He didn’t blame Shadepaw, really – she had grown so much in skill during her time away from the Clans, and it seemed very much like she wasn’t being recognized for that by Brackenfur.

He supposed it wasn’t just that, either. Visiting StarClan at the Moonstone would tell her, definitively, whether or not Sandstorm was alive. Stoneheart guessed it was a question on the sibling’s minds.

“What do we do in the meantime, then?” asked Rowanclaw. He was stretching, his tail arcing over his back. “Hunt?”

Stoneheart nodded. “That’s probably a good idea; we’ll need all our strength,” he agreed. Deep in the crowd, it looked like the deputies were arranging patrols. “Ask Blackfoot, would you? Mistyfoot said she wanted to talk to us.”

Rowanclaw flicked his tail-tip across Stoneheart’s nose before heading off to speak with ShadowClan’s deputy. Stoneheart watched the cats pair up and spread out, not failing to notice how the ThunderClan cats looked somewhat excluded – having no deputy meant that they weren’t being prioritized in any way. Eventually, Dustpelt muttered something and began to shout orders to his Clanmates.

From the crowd emerged Mistyfoot, with Feathertail and Crowpaw at her flanks. Together, the chosen cats crowded together at the edge of the cliff, away from the others and above Mothermouth. They created a circle of dusty earth, and between them Mistyfoot began to draw in the dirt with a claw.

“We’re here,” she said, tapping the space nearest her. “The mountains are there...” She made a line in the middle - “and the lake is here.” Her claw tapped near Stoneheart’s paw, the point furthest away from where she started.

Mistyfoot looked up at her friends. “We need to be as prepared as possible – what do you all remember about the route?”

“Thunderpaths,” Stoneheart responded immediately. Using the tip of his forepaw, he carved little Thunderpaths throughout the map every place he remembered one. “Those will be the most dangerous part of the journey.”

Crowpaw stepped in, making big squares with his paws. “There were lots of Twoleg fields, too, but they were very empty.”

“There were dogs in some, though,” Nightpaw pointed out.

Crowpaw nodded, marking out the last of the fields he recalled. “We’ll have to be careful – but those fields will be amazing hunting grounds.”

Feathertail drew a few squiggly lines. “I remember the water sources,” she explained. “These might be good places to rest.”

“And for herbs, too,” Shadepaw added. “We’ll be working with what we find as we go... there won’t be time to rest for long, not if we want to make it to the mountains before frozen-water gets too bad up there.”

“That might not be avoidable,” Feathertail reasoned, her eyes clouding with worry. “The weather was already getting cold when we left.”

Mistyfoot was taking it all in, her dark blue eyes focused intensely on the map before her. Stoneheart was pretty impressed with how much they all recalled.

“I doubt predators will be too keen to attack this many cats,” Stoneheart meowed, “and we might be able to take those Thunderpaths at night, when they’re less busy.”

“I don’t want to risk elongating the journey,” Mistyfoot pointed out, “but I’ll bring it up to the leaders when they’re done at the Moonstone. In the meantime...”

She lifted her head, and looked at each of them. “It’s our job to make sure we all make it to the lake. No cat left behind, got it?”

“Got it!” each cat echoed, determination in their voices.

Mistyfoot took a deep breath, and Stoneheart saw a brief flash of hesitation in his sister’s gaze. He felt her worries, too – the idea of so many relying on him... it would be overwhelming. He was impressed that Mistyfoot hadn’t broken under the pressure yet.

“We can do this,” Mistyfoot told them. The tone of her voice was certain, and Stoneheart felt it in his heart – she really believed it was true. “We’re going to bring them home.”

———————————————————

It was moonhigh by the time the leaders and their medicine cats emerged from the Moonstone.  Stoneheart was on watch at the time, and spotted the trail of cats coming from Mothermouth, their backs lit silver by the moonlight. Every warrior had been hunting to fill the bellies of their Clanmates as much as possible before settling down to sleep before their journey truly began.

Stoneheart watched Leopardstar lead the patrol up the trail and around, the RiverClan leader climbing the slope with ease and little regard for the others behind her. Mothwing, her daughter and now sole medicine cat of RiverClan, trotted beside her. Russetstar and Littlecloud were next, while Tinystar and Brackenfur stayed back with Tallstar and Barkface, to aid the WindClan leader in his ascent.

Their commotion woke some cats, but not all. Stoneheart picked his way around his sleeping Clanmates, unable to deny his own curiosity – what had they seen at the Moonstone?

He wasn’t the only one: “Well?” asked Tawnypelt, her eyes earnest as she intercepted Leopardstar.

Leopardstar frowned, clearly conflicted. Stoneheart knew that messages heard at the Moonstone were kept between StarClan and the one that heard it – but would they make an exception in this case?

It was Littlecloud who replied: “StarClan is with us,” he said, coming forward. The small tabby tom looked well-rested, and his eyes glittered with starlight.

“It looked as if they were preparing for a journey of their own,” purred Barkface as he approached. Tallstar was leaning on him heavily, but the WindClan leader looked hopeful.

Stoneheart frowned. “StarClan travels with us?” He supposed that made sense, but he really didn’t know. Are StarClan’s hunting grounds as vast as the living world?

“It would seem so,” responded Barkface.

The WindClan medicine cat took his leave with a dip of his head, pulling Tallstar away towards the other members of WindClan. Leopardstar wasn’t keen to speak any further, either – she took Mothwing and Tawnypelt with her and walked towards the RiverClan group.

“We leave at dawn,” Russetstar told Stoneheart, catching his eye. “Wake the next ShadowClan watch.”

Stoneheart dipped his head in acknowledgement. He couldn’t ignore the way stars seemed to dance in Russetstar’s eyes, and the sight filled him with respect for his leader. He wondered what it was like to stand before StarClan and hear them speak – was it anything like how his dead sister Mosspaw had delivered the prophecy? Russetstar and Littlecloud padded away, towards Blackfoot and the other ShadowClan cats.

“Brackenfur! Father!” Shadepaw was approaching, now, springing out of the shadows like a hunter catching prey. Her eyes were bright, her voice excited. Stoneheart wondered if she had slept at all. “What happened? What did you see?”

Brackenfur glanced between Tinystar and Shadepaw, hesitant. Stoneheart frowned. Tinystar’s expression wasn’t as full of hope as the others had been. Did he see Sandstorm there? He couldn’t imagine how heartbroken the ThunderClan leader would be if that were the case.

“StarClan assured me that Sandstorm is still out there,” Tinystar meowed, after a long moment. Brackenfur looked stunned, and Stoneheart felt a prickle of unease. Was that a message meant only for Tinystar? But regardless, Tinystar swept on: “She is not dead.”

Shadepaw looked elated. “Then she might still find us!” she breathed. “Oh, thank StarClan!”

“StarClan will light her way,” Brackenfur urged, his tone more subdued. He quickly tried to move the conversation away from what Stoneheart guessed was taboo: “For now, we must look to getting everyone to the lake in one piece. I’ve a task for you, Shadepaw.”

Shadepaw’s tail stood straight up. The news of her mother seemed to be enough to lift her spirits beyond being passed over visiting the Moonstone. “Anything!” the apprentice mewed, determination glittering in her gaze.

“I want you to assist Mothwing,” Brackenfur said. “She’s a competent medicine cat, to be sure, but Mudfur died so early on in her training. I want you to aid her as you would me.”

Shadepaw’s tail drooped, slightly. “What, like... be her apprentice?”

“In a sense.”

Stoneheart felt the sting to Shadepaw’s pride secondhand – but with her father present, the tortoiseshell she-cat did not protest. Her eyes darkened, and she sighed. “Very well.”

It hurt to watch Shadepaw sulk away, but at least she didn’t let it show for long. He heard her speaking excitedly to Nightpaw about their mother’s fate, and the two put their heads together to purr.

“Did I hear right? Sandstorm isn’t dead?”

Ravenpaw came from the shadows like a ghost, startling Stoneheart. The loner’s bright eyes flickered over to Tinystar. “You didn’t see her?”

Tinystar shook his head. “Not even a whiff of her scent, either,” he said. There was relief in his tone, but clearly, he was still worried for his mate. Even Stoneheart was worried – where would the Twolegs have taken Sandstorm? Was she with Branch and his vet?

Ravenpaw looked relieved. “That’s good,” he breathed. “You should get some rest, Tinystar, if you’re to leave at dawn.”

Tinystar nodded in agreement, touching his nose to his friend’s before he and Brackenfur moved off. Stoneheart watched them go, conscious of Ravenpaw’s presence nearby. He was surprised that the loner hadn’t followed Tinystar, and he glanced at Ravenpaw to find that the black tom was watching Tinystar with a troubled expression.

“What is it?” Stoneheart wondered.

Ravenpaw’s whiskers twitched. “I... I don’t know. Sandstorm might still be alive, but... will he ever see her again?” His voice was uncertain.

Stoneheart was well aware that Ravenpaw probably shouldn’t be talking like this to him, especially because Stoneheart was a ShadowClan cat – but perhaps his seasons as a loner had muddied some of the warrior code in his mind, or perhaps Ravenpaw simply didn’t care, and wished to air his worries to someone.

“It’s not healthy to cling to the past,” Ravenpaw murmured. “I know I probably won’t see Tinystar again, but... I wish I knew he’d be okay – that ThunderClan would be okay.”

Stoneheart swallowed. Tinystar was curling up into a ball, wrapping his tail around his nose, all alone amidst his Clan. Once again, Stoneheart felt sympathy for the cat who had once been his leader. There was a flash of brightness in the dark, and Stoneheart’s eye caught it – Mistyfoot's eyes were open, and she, too, was watching her leader fall asleep.

I wish I knew it would be okay, too, Stoneheart thought, his heart feeling heavy as he watched uncertainty flash in his sister’s gaze. For your sake.