[TB] DAWN -- Chapter 27 (Patreon)

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Talon and his patrol had expertly led the massive group through Tribe territory, quiet sentinels in the white gloom, warning of pitfalls and avoiding dangerous places with the expertise that came of living in this harsh environment.

Now the Clans were looking through the white at the Path of Rushing Water, the stony trail that led up the cliffs and into the mountain itself. The cave entrance was protected by a waterfall that tumbled down into a pool below, the spray seemingly freezing into little drops of snow before it hit the ground – perpetual motion must have kept the surface from freezing, Stoneheart guessed.

Stoneheart tried not to be disappointed by that fact – along the way he had built up the image in his mind of the waterfall, frozen to its core into an imposing sheet of ice.,

“Whoa...” breathed Sorreltail, her amber eyes wide at the sight. “I’ve never seen so much water in my life...”

“Take care,” Talon warned, taking a place at the start of the Path. “In frozen-water, the Path of Rushing Water can be icy. Using your claws may save you a fall.”

Not far from Stoneheart, Talonstripe bristled. “What, they might die trying to get to their own camp? Is the Tribe made of mouse-brains?”

“Quiet!” Stoneheart growled, forcing his neck fur to lie flat at his Clanmate’s rudeness. There’s no need to disrespect them! Talonstripe twitched his whiskers in response, but shut his jaws nonetheless.

Stoneheart suppressed a sigh. The Tribe’s ways were bound to create confusion among the Clans, and he prayed to StarClan that some of the Clan’s more traditionally-minded members didn’t pick a fight.

He watched Tinystar be the first cat to brave the icy Path of Rushing Water, putting one paw in front of the other confidently. When the small black tom disappeared behind the waterfall, his example sent a flutter of determination through the rest of the Clans – Nightpaw went next, then Wolftooth, then Leopardstar, then the rest.

Cat after cat went up the Path, single-file, with Cloud and Red aiding the queens with their kits. Stoneheart’s turn came soon enough, and he touched his tail to Rowanclaw’s nose.

“Grab it if you feel like you’re slipping,” he said.

Rowanclaw huffed, “What, and rip your tail off? I think I’ll be just fine, Stone!”

Stoneheart felt his pelt prickle with embarrassment, and he didn’t meet Talon’s eye as he passed the massive tabby, lest he catch the amusement there.

The stone beneath Stoneheart’s paws sparkled with frost, and the spray of the waterfall was so cold it felt as if little icicles were piercing his pelt. Taking Talon’s advice, he dug his claws into the frost, but there was little need – the warmth of the cats that had gone before him had smoothed out a decently safe path behind the wall of water.

Stoneheart stopped at the entrance of the cave, staring into its dark depths. He could see many cats moving about inside, shadows flitting against the faint, watery light that poured in from behind the waterfall. Stoneheart waited for Rowanclaw there, and when his mate made it to his side, he put their shoulders together.

“This is the Cave of Rushing Water,” he meowed, nodding into the darkness. “The Tribe camps here.”

“Wow,” Rowanclaw breathed. “It’s so dark! How do they see?”

“Tribe cats have very good night-sight,” Stoneheart explained, leading his mate into the cavern. “This cave goes really far back, and it splits off into a few other caves for the nursery and other spots.”

Rowanclaw’s eyes glinted as he took in every detail he could see in the darkness. “It’s so warm in here,” he mewed, sounding surprised. “I didn’t think...”

“With so many bodies, the cold of the stone matters little,” mewed a quiet, gentle voice. “We are warmer still with so many friends among us.”

Stoneheart picked out the speaker’s tabby stripes and pale blue eyes easily in the darkness. “Brook!” he purred. “It’s good to see you again!”

“And you, Stoneheart!” Brook’s whiskers twitched, and she extended her paw. Stoneheart mimicked the gesture, touching their pads together in the Tribe’s special way of greeting. Brook’s eyes sparkled when she looked at Stoneheart, but they frequently flashed past him, searching the cats that were still streaming inside.

She’s looking for Feathertail, Stoneheart realized. “She’ll be in soon,” he told Brook. “She wanted to make sure no one slipped on the Path.”

“That is very kind of her,” Brook sighed, her voice dreamy. The tabby she-cat hesitated, then mewed, “Snow and Stoneteller are meeting with your leaders now, at the back of the cave. I expect sleeping arrangements and announcements will be made soon.”

“Thanks, Brook,” Stoneheart mewed, dipping his head.

Brook returned the gesture, then stepped past him, her tail flicking to and fro as she stared into the frosty white entrance.

Rowanclaw glanced back at her. “Who is she waiting for?” he wondered.

“Feathertail,” Stoneheart explained. He kept his voice low, conscious of Feathertail’s Clanmates padding hesitantly into the cave. “While we stayed here, they were very close.”

“Ah...” Rowanclaw nodded. He peered after Brook, his eyes flashing in the gloom. “Well, I can see it. They’re both very pretty cats.”

“Yes, well...” Stoneheart trailed off. Feathertail and Talon were finally padding into the cave, the long procession of Clan cats finally done. The instant Brook and Feathertail saw one another, Stoneheart guessed that no other cats existed – they rushed to touch noses, and he could hear their purrs over the noise in the cave.

Stoneheart felt his heart ache. We’re not staying here forever, he thought dismally. A shared glance with Rowanclaw told him that his mate was thinking the same bittersweet thought. What will they do?

“Cats of the Clans! Cats of the Tribe! Come and hear me!”

Stoneteller’s rasping voice bounced off of the cave walls, reverberating in every cat’s ear – Stoneheart tore his gaze away from Feathertail and Brook and looked to the back of the cave, where the skinny old tabby tom was standing amidst the Clan leaders.

“Come on,” Stoneheart hissed. He touched his tail to Rowanclaw’s shoulder, coaxing him forward.

“I am Teller of the Pointed Stones, or Stoneteller,” Stoneteller was saying. Stoneheart and Rowanclaw settled in the crowd, next to Mistyfoot and Ryewhisper. “I am the leader of the Tribe of Rushing Water, alongside my to-be, Snow.”

Stoneteller’s sharp yellow gaze raked over the assembled cats, likely more than he’d ever seen in his lifetime, Stoneheart guessed. Still, the old tom did not seem intimidated as he meowed on, “Some nights ago, I received a message from our ancestors, the Tribe of Endless Hunting. They told of a blizzard, and of old friends and new that would need our aid. That time has come!”

“That time has come,” echoed the Tribe cats. Stoneheart blinked, realizing that the Tribe, instead of mingling within the crowd of Clan cats, had instead chosen to line the walls of the cavern – it made their voices resound all the more powerfully, and it felt both strange and safe.

Stoneteller turned to the Clan leaders. “Nearly one moon ago, cats from your Clans came and rid the mountains of a terrible evil – Sharptooth, the cat-killer, the monster of the mountains. Their bravery came at great sacrifice, and we honor the debt incurred by your warrior Stormfur.”

“Stormfur! Stormfur!” cried the Tribe cats, their voices loud and mournful.

Stoneheart felt a pang. Many of the RiverClan cats shifted uncomfortably in the crowd, and he felt Mistyfoot stiffen beside him. Nearby, Brook leaned her cheek into Feathertail’s thick neck fur, and Graystripe and Silverstream were pressed so close together they were almost one, their eyes shimmering with grief over their son.

“Clans,” Stoneteller meowed on, “this blizzard has already blocked the path down the mountain, and until the storm stops, there is no safe way for you to continue on. Our home is your home and our prey is your prey, until the snow clears.”

“Thank you,” murmured Russetstar. Her eyes flashed skeptically. “This is very generous.”

Snow flicked her tail dismissively. “Think nothing of it,” she mewed. “Sharptooth was a great threat to us, and killed many of our loved ones. Its defeat brought us together, Clan and Tribe, and we would not turn away from that friendship.”

“Still, we would not put you out,” Tinystar reasoned. “When the blizzard stops, our hunters will join with yours.”

“Of course!” Snow agreed, her eyes sparkling. “There is much we can learn from one another!”

“Until then,” Stoneteller rasped on, “Flight, Jag, and Rock will distribute prey to your Clans. Gray and Sun will find your sharpclaws places to sleep, and Bird and Night will take care of your kit-mothers and their kittens within our nursery.”

“What of the injured?” Brackenfur asked from within the crowd. “Do you have a medicine cat that can tend to them, or help us to do so? We don’t know the herbs in these mountains.”

Stoneteller’s gaze flickered. “I am Stoneteller, tribe healer, and Snow is Stoneteller to-be. We know every herb that grows between rock or endures the cold. Your injured are safe with us.”

“And you are free to learn from us,” Snow added. Her gaze fell fondly upon Shadepaw, who was sitting with her mentor. “And in your case, continue learning.”

“We would be honored,” Barkface purred, his eyes glazed with relief. “Thornpaw has had an injured paw since the start of the journey, and it’s only gotten worse...”

“Let me see her,” Snow mewed. “Shadepaw, would you like to help?”

Shadepaw took a step forward, then halted, as if forgetting again that she was no longer an independent medicine cat far from home – she glanced back at Brackenfur, who nodded, and got to his paws himself.

“I will come as well,” he said. “The others can tend to the smaller hurts of our Clanmates...”

At Snow’s behest, the crowd parted to let the cats come through. Snow then led Thornpaw, Barkface, Brackenfur, and Shadepaw into the darkness at the back of the cave, slipping into the crack in the rock that led to the den she shared with Stoneteller and their ancestors.

“Rest well, Clans,” Stoneteller meowed, when they were gone. “Your great journey is nearly done.”

That seemed to end the meeting. Gray and Sun got to their paws and immediately began dividing up the Clan cats, half to one side of the cave and the rest to the other. Stoneheart was astonished by their efficiency – had they been practicing what to do since their ancestors spoke to them?

It was Sun who approached he and Rowanclaw. Stoneheart had to blink twice at the she-cat, who somehow looked far more grown-up than when he’d last seen her. She beamed at him, as if guessing the thoughts running through his head.

“I’m a sharpclaw now,” she purred, her eyes gleaming. “Have you noticed?”

“You certainly look older,” Mistyfoot said. “Congratulations, Sun!”

“Congratulations,” Stoneheart agreed, feeling warmth for the young she-cat. “Are you a prey-hunter, or cave-guard?”

Sun’s tail twitched. “Cave-guard, of course!” she answered enthusiastically. “Now come on, I’ve just the place for you!”

Rowanclaw looked dizzy as Sun herded them towards the nearest cave wall. “I’m sorry, a cave-what now? And sharpclaw? What’s all that mean?”

Sun rolled her eyes. “You didn’t explain it to them?”

“We couldn’t possibly explain everything to everyone,” Mistyfoot sighed patiently. “There’s so many cats...”

Stoneheart turned to his mate. “Sharpclaw and softpaw are like warriors and apprentices,” he explained, glancing at Sun to see if he was getting any details wrong. So far, she was nodding along. “Sharpclaws can be prey-hunters – cats that hunt for the Tribe – or cave-guards, cats that defend the prey-hunters from hawks or predators outside the cave.”

“Softpaws train ‘to-be’ one or the other,” Mistyfoot added. “And they train with every prey-hunter or cave-guard, not just one.”

“Oh, wow,” Rowanclaw mewed, his tone light and eyes wide. “O-Okay, I think I’ve got it?”

He still looked dizzy. Stoneheart licked his ear affectionately. “You’ll get used to it,” he promised.

“Here we are!” Sun mewed, coming up to the rocky wall. There was a shallow scoop in the floor here, lined with fresh feathers and moss. To Stoneheart’s aching muscles it looked like clouds, but before Stoneheart could step in, Sun stopped him with her tail on his nose.

“Recognize it?” she asked.

Mistyfoot leaned forward and sniffed at the rock. “Hm... maybe...” she answered.

Stoneheart had to shake his head when Sun looked at him expectantly. One scoop of earth looked just like the one next to it, to his eyes. Mistyfoot was settling into her nest, as was Rowanclaw, and Stoneheart felt a bit jealous. He wanted nothing more than to sleep.

“This is where you and your friends stayed!” Sun scoffed. “Your scent is still on the stone, can’t you tell? It’s our to-be's den, but since it’s just Flight now, she was moved in with the prey-hunters to make more space.”

Sun bumped her forehead into Stoneheart’s shoulder and urged, “Have a good rest, Stoneheart.”

The ginger she-cat moved away from them, weaving back into the crowd to gather up more cats. By the time Stoneheart had settled himself into the nest beside Rowanclaw, Sun had Sorreltail, Cinderpelt, Dustpelt, and Robinwing following her to the neighboring den, and he could hear her chattering as she lingered with Sorreltail, until Gray had to call across the cave to get his Tribemate back on task.

Stoneheart rested his chin on his paws, and he glanced at Rowanclaw. He might’ve wanted to chat with his mate, but he was already sound asleep – to his other side, Mistyfoot was as well, her tail curled around her body. Stoneheart wasn’t surprised, not after the cold and the stress of the night so far.

Stoneheart sighed. He was tired, but some part of him itched to make sure that every cat was in their proper place. He watched Gray and Sun herd the Clan cats off to their sleeping spots, while Flight, Jag, and Rock distributed prey to each group. On the other side of the cave, Dawnflower, Ferncloud, and Finchsong were chatting with Night, and Bird stepped out of the nursery behind them to quietly announce that all the kits were asleep.

Ashfoot and Crowpaw joined Stoneheart and the others in their den, curling up together in the spare nests and drifting off to sleep almost immediately. Not long later, Shadepaw appeared. The tortoiseshell she-cat slipped into the den, curling up beside Crowpaw with a yawn.

“How’s Thornpaw?” Stoneheart wondered.

“She’ll be fine,” Shadepaw answered tiredly. “Her infection was bad, but the cold stopped it from spreading. Snow thinks after a few days she’ll be walking normally again... but that’s not really what I’m worried about.”

A flash of gray caught Stoneheart’s attention. In the center of the cave, Feathertail and Brook were sitting together, chatting, the watery white light streaming in from outside turning their pelts to silver. So absorbed in one another they were, they didn’t notice the way that some of Feathertail’s Clanmates glared.

Stoneheart glanced back at Shadepaw, and saw worry in the apprentice’s gaze. He recalled Falcontail’s sharp words about Feathertail’s loyalties earlier in the day, and he shivered.

It wasn’t their love that concerned him, no, but what they might do to keep it. Brook and Feathertail had parted once before already... Stoneheart was certain now that the two she-cats would not let it happen again.