[TB] DAWN -- Chapter 25 (Patreon)

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Stoneheart fluffed his pelt up against the chill. The snow was falling consistently now, the sky above a flat, dark gray that made him nervous. The white powder was already collecting in deep clefts and the sharp angles made by the rocky crags all around them – what if it only increased?

Feathertail seemed to read his mind – her voice carried in the clear air: “Watch your step! It’s been snowing in the mountains for at least a moon now, and it’ll have filled in gaps in the paths that we can’t see.”

“Wonderful,” Rowanclaw groaned. His shorter coat was prickled at the spine, and Stoneheart tried his best to reposition himself so that he took the brunt of the cold wind’s claws for his mate. The ginger tom seemed grateful, but he complained on, “Cats live up here, you said? I don’t see how!”

“They manage better than you think,” Stoneheart assured, recalling the Tribe cats. With their powerful hind legs and stone-like paw pads, they were well-suited made to this place. I have no idea how they manage in the cold, though, especially if they still cover themselves with mud! Stoneheart was no medicine cat, but that sounded like a death sentence in frozen-water.

“Think we’ll meet any of them?” Rowanclaw wondered.

Stoneheart shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. “They know of our journey.”

Feathertail’s ear twitched, and Stoneheart wondered if she was eavesdropping on purpose – he banished the thought. Up here in the clear, cold air, words were as loud as a Twoleg monster.

“We should seek the Tribe,” Feathertail reasoned, her blue eyes flashing. “If this snowfall turns into a blizzard, we’ll be in trouble without them.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t,” Mistyfoot sighed. “But you’re right. If things get bad, they’ll be our only hope up here. I don’t know if they’d be happy to shelter all of us, though...”

Stoneheart could see that his sister was struggling with the cold even with her thicker pelt – it just wasn’t as thick as his. He recalled how Stormfur would shield her from the chilly air like Stoneheart was sheltering Rowanclaw, and felt a pang in his heart.

The path ahead had opened up, but the slope was very steep as the earth rose up and up. Stoneheart struggled to recognize where he was, and even trying to scent for the Tribe to get his bearings was useless – they didn’t mark their borders like a Clan did. He thought that the tumble of rocks they passed was the cave where he and the others had sheltered after the Tribe had taken Stormfur and sent them away, but he really had no idea.

Feathertail and Mistyfoot, however, seemed to know where to put their paws – that was enough for Stoneheart, and he hoped it would be enough for the rest of the Clans, too. He glanced behind and found that many had uncertain looks in their eyes, and more than one cat was leaving bloody smears against the stones from pads split by the rough ground. Most of the warriors seemed determined to power through, but...

“Ow!” hissed Thornpaw of WindClan. She stopped abruptly, lifting a bloody paw.

“Oh, poor thing,” Duskflower sighed. Stoneheart watched his Clanmate turn to the apprentice and give her paw an examination.

Thornpaw’s cry had called to Ryewhisper, one of WindClan’s medicine cats – by the time he had trotted to the back of the line, it seemed like Duskflower had Thornpaw’s pad all cleaned.

“Isn’t there anything for it?” the black she-cat wondered.

“Not really,” Ryewhisper admitted. “We don’t know what herbs grow up here, or what they do – and in this snow, there’s no telling what’s even alive.” To Thornpaw, he soothed, “Walk on the snow as much as you can, and try to keep your weight off of it.”

Thornpaw nodded, her eyes watery with pain. Duskflower curled her tail along the young she-cat's spine and offered, “I’ll walk with her.”

Ryewhisper seemed unbothered by the thought of a ShadowClan queen watching over one of his Clanmates. He only nodded and whispered his thanks before turning back, heading through the crowd to report to Barkface.

“Shadepaw, you were in the mountains,” the older tom asked. “What do you recall of the herbs here?”

Shadepaw furrowed her brow. “Stoneteller and Snow, his apprentice, taught me a few, but...” She looked around, her orange eyes round. “If I see them, I’ll let you know.”

“We’re going to have more torn pads than we do tongues to soothe them,” sighed Mothwing. The golden she-cat turned to Brackenfur and asked, “What about your leg? How is it feeling?”

ThunderClan’s medicine cat flicked his ear. “Surprisingly fine,” he admitted. “The cold is really helping...”

Stoneheart turned his ears away from the medicine cat’s conversation. It didn’t seem like there was anything too new to worry about there, and there wasn’t much help he could offer, anyway. Snow helped with my rat bite, but I don’t remember a single herb she used, or why...

Again, he found his gaze straying to Feathertail. The silver tabby she-cat was walking with such conviction, scenting the air as if she actually could smell anything but cold and stone.

“Look out for ice,” she called back to the rest of the Clans. Her message was echoed throughout the cats as she went on: “It’ll be hard to see, and very easy to slip on. A sprain on these trails is bad news...”

“She certainly knows what she’s doing,” Rowanclaw chuckled, his breath misting before his muzzle. “You sure she isn’t one of those Tribe cats in disguise?”

Stoneheart might have laughed, but instead he felt an uncomfortable prickle. “Feathertail learned more from the Tribe than any of us,” he explained, lowering his voice. “She got very close with them.”

“Well, it's helping,” Rowanclaw admitted. “I mean, look at her.”

Stoneheart sighed, knowing that Rowanclaw was right. Feathertail navigated the rocks and slopes with confidence, her tail up and eyes glancing upward for threats that only Tribe cats knew to fear. Her thick fur was covered in a layer of snowfall that she didn’t seem to feel, and when she leaped onto a boulder to look ahead Stoneheart’s unease grew.

She’s happy and confident, sure, he thought, but what happens when she has to leave?

What will she do when she has to say good-bye to Brook again?

———————————————————

Stoneheart was sure it was sunhigh, but that was impossible to tell – the snow had picked up speed, the flurries coming down fast, now. No cat could see very far ahead, now, not even Feathertail or some of WindClan’s most observant warriors.

The snow was piling up, too, thick around the cat’s paws. While it soothed sore pads, it didn’t do so for long. Many cats were moaning about numb toes, and Stoneheart felt as if his own legs were attached to heavy icicles instead of paws. Their movement slowed considerably, but Feathertail was still doing her best.

“Here,” she called. The silver tabby was standing before a gap in the stone, one that quickly disappeared into a white haze. “It’ll keep us out of the wind, if nothing else.”

The cats had no choice but to listen, moving in single-file to fit into the narrow gap. Stoneheart didn’t like this, and he kept his tail-tip pressed against Rowanclaw’s cheek. It did keep the wind off of the cats, though it didn’t do much for the snow piled at their paws.

Still, they plowed forward.

The air was tense as they walked through the narrow passage. Stoneheart could hear nervous whispers and the chattering of teeth as cats struggled with the temperature. Worry bloomed in Stoneheart’s belly, cold as the ice around them – if they didn’t encounter the Tribe, how were they going to hope to shelter so many cats?

It’ll be impossible, he thought, his heart pounding. Behind him he heard a kit whine about struggling to move. And if this snow picks up...

Swallowing, he estimated that the Clans only had two days they could afford to spend in the mountains. If the snowstorm turned into a blizzard, and if they found no shelter... horror crept down his spine. Many of these cats would struggle to wake after sleeping out in these conditions.

StarClan, please, show us mercy, he thought. Tribe of Endless Hunting, please...

He wasn’t sure which ancestors would or could listen. Did the Tribe of Endless Hunting care about things like that? Did they have such power? Was StarClan struggling just as much as they were, walking in another heavenly territory? Was that even how it worked? Stoneheart had no idea, and he bet the medicine cats might not, either.

Suddenly there were gasps from up ahead. Stoneheart pulled away from his thoughts, eyes wide as one of the sheltering stone walls had suddenly fallen away to reveal a steep drop, the bottom of which Stoneheart could hardly see through the snowstorm. He could make out rocks and fallen trees, but nothing more.

“Great StarClan,” hissed Rowanclaw behind him.

Now it was alarmingly clear what dangers awaited the cats. Panic ground the line to a halt as more and more cats saw that a single misplaced paw would most definitely mean finding out just where the earth was down that ravine.

Ahead, Stoneheart could see Feathertail pressed against the stone wall they still had. “Stay calm!” she cried, her voice echoing through the hollow. “Keep to the wall!”

“Pick up the kits!” Russetstar yowled.

“There are gaps ahead!” Mistyfoot’s voice warned. “We can make it! Keep going!”

The line began to move again, but the worries did not fade. Stoneheart could hear the clatter of stones as cats stepped with trembling paws, or kits struggled against their parent’s will. Stoneheart heard Dawncloud of RiverClan whimper about losing her kits, and her mate Frostsplash’s reassurance was done in a trembling voice.

Soon enough they came upon the gaps Mistyfoot had called out. They weren’t large, but the cats were already tense. Progress slowed to a crawl as each cat took turns crossing, making room for another, and then crossing the next – though the gaps were no larger than a tail-length, the drop was enough to frighten some out of their fur.

“I don’t want to fall!” wailed Rosepaw.

“You can make it!” Leafwhisker, her mentor, called from the other side.

“Enough of this!” Crowpaw hissed. Stoneheart craned his neck, watching with wide eyes as the black tom grabbed Rosepaw by her scruff and practically threw her to Leafwhisker. Crowpaw leaped next, clearing the gap with ease, and then turned around to cry, “You’re all warriors, aren’t you? You can do this!”

It seemed to be what the cats needed to hear – only Brackenfur and Longtail truly struggled to cross the gaps, Longtail nearly falling only to be saved by Wolftooth sinking his jaws into the blind tom’s scruff and hauling him to flat ground. One of the jumps saw Brackenfur landing oddly, but he promised he would be fine.

After an agonizing few hours, it seemed like they were finally near the end – the path finally opened up to a stony plain ringed with steep hills and a few scraggly trees. The cats were confident now, making the leaps over the gaps in the path easily. Stoneheart was happy for that, but when he heard two apprentices threatening to make a game of it, he turned around and snapped:

“Save playtime for when it won’t risk your neck!” he snarled. “What are you, kits?” Spiderpaw and Weaselpaw both shrank in their pelts, promising under their breaths to take it more seriously.

They leaped, one after the other, and Stoneheart nudged them on their way. Next came Barkface and Nightpaw, who cleared the gaps well despite their shorter legs and went on to join the others in the safety that waited at the end of the path. The Clan cats were already spreading out, stretching their legs to shake off the tense situation.

Last to come were Duskflower and Thornpaw. The two had fallen behind after Thornpaw’s injury, and Duskflower had stayed with the apprentice to keep her from being lost.

“I don’t know,” Thornpaw mewed, trembling. “It looks so far...”

“It’ll be all right,” Duskflower soothed. “Everyone else has done it, so can we.”

“Come on, Mum!” Smokepaw called from up ahead. “We’re going to try hunting!”

“I’ll be right there!” Duskflower promised.

Stoneheart locked eyes with Thornpaw. The edge of the path was frayed, but it had held true under the weight of cats far bulkier than the little WindClan cat. He hoped that seeing confidence in his eyes would be enough, but he added, “If you can’t make it, I’ll grab you,” for good measure.

Thornpaw nodded, and backed up a step. Her run-up and leap were fine, but Stoneheart heard her gasp in pain when she landed hard on her hurt paw. Immediately he lunged forward and grabbed her scruff, scenting blood – her weight both strained Stoneheart’s neck and shifted the stones beneath her, sending a few tumbling into the pit below.

They hung there for a long moment, Stoneheart clinging to the stone in an effort not to be drawn down by Thornpaw’s flailing paws. His jaws ached, but when he tried to pull Thornpaw back he felt the rock beneath him shift. In a panic he froze, unsure of what to do.

Before any cat could help, Duskflower leaped. The she-cat managed to squeeze between Stoneheart and the wall, quickly winding around Stoneheart to grab Thornpaw from him. Freed of his burden, Stoneheart scrambled backward to more solid ground, his heart thudding in his throat.

Duskflower strained, pulling Thornpaw up onto the stone between Stoneheart and herself. Thornpaw wailed, pressing herself into Duskflower’s pelt, her injured paw held up awkwardly as it bled sluggishly onto the rock.

“Thank StarClan!” Thornpaw cried. “I was so scared!”

“So was I,” Duskflower admitted, licking Thornpaw around her ear. “Go on, get that paw looked at.”

Thornpaw moved away on trembling paws, limping towards the crowd. Stoneheart blinked gratefully at Duskflower, unsure of what to say about the queen’s bravery.

Duskflower sighed, her eyes sparkling with love as she watched Thornpaw go. “Happy to help...”

The queen got to her paws, and the rock split beneath her.

With a screech, Stoneheart dove, forelegs extended to try and catch her, but he was too late – Duskflower, and the chunk of rock she had been standing on, were already too far gone. He saw the two dark shapes bounce against the steep stone slope once, twice, and then they were gone, disappeared in the white haze below.

“No!” howled Smokepaw.

Russetstar had to lunge to keep the apprentice from following his mother to her fate. Wails of horror and anguish filled the stone ravine as the realization hit each and every cat – the fate that they had so feared had befallen poor Duskflower.

Stoneheart was still staring into the dark abyss, his forelegs hanging off into the air, claws extended to grab what he had no hope of rescuing. Desperately he searched the white world below, looking for any sign of movement – but there was nothing.

“StarClan, help us,” whimpered Littlecloud, his eyes round with sorrow.

“D-Duskflower...” Thornpaw’s voice trembled. “Duskflower? Why?” The apprentice broke into an inconsolable wail.

“Stoneheart, get away from there!”

Stoneheart felt teeth in his scruff, and he was being pulled back. No! He thought, still playing the moment over in his mind. All he could see was Duskflower’s last look, her eyes widening in terrified realization. I can save her!

He couldn’t speak the words, though, because he knew they were lies. He let himself be dragged uselessly to the others, grief for his Clanmate welling up inside as his claws scraped against the stone. He had been unable to save Tinystar, but the ThunderClan leader had gotten up again – Duskflower had no such blessing.

She was gone.

Stoneheart felt his head be shoved into the snow. The shock of the cold brought him back to reality and he gasped, pulling away as soon as he could to find that it was Rowanclaw who had a paw on his head, Rowanclaw who had a tuft of gray fur stuck to his chin. Overwhelmed, Stoneheart pressed against Rowanclaw and trembled, unable to put his emotions into words.

“Sssh,” Rowanclaw murmured, resting his chin on Stoneheart’s head. Stoneheart could feel his mate’s voice trembling with its own grief. “It’s okay, Stoneheart. It’ll be okay...”

“She walks with StarClan,” Littlecloud soothed. “As do we all.”

“These mountains are cursed,” spat Dustpelt, somewhere in the crowd. “We should never have come here!”

“Who else will we lose?” fretted Ferncloud. Stoneheart imagined her drawing Larchkit close to her belly, terrified of her only kit falling down an unseen chasm.

“Everyone, be calm!” Leopardstar’s voice was loud enough to cut through the chatter. “We will all mourn Duskflower, but right now we need to think about moving ahead. I don’t know about any of you, but I don’t want to be out in the open when night falls!”

Her call to action seemed to help. Cats were still visibly upset, Ashfur and Leafwhisker deliberately throwing Feathertail a nasty look, as if this was all her fault; but they were inevitably getting to their paws and moving again, which was what mattered.

“We’re stuck here, now,” Oakfur pointed out over the chilling silence. “We have to make the best of it.”

Stoneheart pushed himself to his paws. StarClan, take Duskflower and keep her safe, and warm... He prayed. If the Tribe of Endless Hunting take her instead, I hope they do the same... She was very sweet, and very brave.

He took a step after his Clanmates, and vowed to never let another cat die before his eyes.