[TB] STARLIGHT -- Chapter 3 (Patreon)

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With RiverClan’s camp choice seemingly settled, it wasn’t long until the patrol finished their meal and headed out again, burying the bones outside the reeds and leaving the willow glade behind.

Another stream lay between them and the lowlands beyond, and after they had successfully crossed, Crowflight noticed that Tawnypelt was taking a marked step back from trying to lead the patrol. He wondered if it was because of what lay ahead – the thick, oppressive pine forest and the swampy land around it.

Eventually, Tawnypelt seemed to sense the rest of the patrol’s curiosity regarding the matter. She mewed, “You all seem to work well together without me getting in the way. I’ll follow your lead from now on.”

The others seemed satisfied with that, but Crowflight caught Tawnypelt looking back at the willow glade, which was a fuzzy green speck behind them now.

That made him curl his lip. Oh, so she finds RiverClan a home and then gives up on the patrol?

Whether that was true or not, Crowflight had enough sense to know that now wasn’t the time to be bitter about it. Finding the Clans new homes was the purpose of the patrol, after all, and again he wondered why Tawnypelt should care much for where any Clan but RiverClan was going to stay. It made sense for her to be somewhat single-minded – for them all to be that way – so he squared his shoulders and endeavored to let the RiverClan deputy be.

The land ahead was flat and sloped gently down towards the lake; but instead of a pebbly shoreline, like near the Arrival, the earth grew significantly wetter and boggier the closer it got to the water. The lone willows and birches were slowly being replaced with pine and fir, and the scraggly, leafbare-thin bushes began to look like ones that could soak up a waterfall’s worth of water and still be thirsty.

The sight of it all seemed to put a spring in Stoneheart’s step, so Mistyfoot stepped aside and let the ShadowClan tom lead the way. While the others kept to more solid earth, Stoneheart didn’t seem afraid of getting his paws wet in the boggier soil, and Crowflight turned his nose up at the funky odor.

Give me peat any day! He thought. This swamp mud smells like crow-food!

As the sun began to arc across the sky, casting the world in an evening glow, the patrol reached the pine forest. Almost instantly the earth became springier, the sounds of their pawsteps muffled by a thick layer of pine needles that seemed to cover every inch of land that Crowflight could see. Bushes and other plants that had fought their way through the covering seemed to thrive in the quiet gloominess, and the whole world felt just a touch damp. Crowflight had to resist shaking out his pelt.

I hate forests! He thought, aggravated. He looked up and saw nothing but intertwining branches, the sky blocked by a clutter of pine needles and their massive cones. Nary a bit of sunshine seemed capable of making it through the canopy, which made looking down the slope towards the lake like peering at a bar of white-hot light.

The land here was, at least, easy on the paws; Crowflight had to give it that. Despite the thick covering of pine needles, rarely did one ever prick his pads, and there were no deep gullies or surprise drops that he could see. After the harsh, cold terrain of the mountains, this was quite the relief. Feels like RiverClan and ShadowClan get the easier territories...

“So where does ShadowClan like to camp?” Nightfrost wondered. His voice sounded so out of place in the still woods, which seemed pleased to muffle any sound at all.

Stoneheart’s whiskers twitched. “It’s secret,” he mewed. When Nightfrost pouted, the older warrior chuckled, flicking the black tom’s ear with his tail.

“We want someplace that isn’t too wet, with lots of briars and brambles to help keep out nosy ThunderClan cats,” Stoneheart purred. “It has to be a place that doesn’t look like anything at all when you look at first.”

Mistyfoot rolled her eyes, and Tawnypelt chuckled under her breath. “Every Clan has their preference, I guess,” Crowflight grunted. He found it hard to be annoyed with Stoneheart, even about ShadowClan secrecy.

“Hm,” Mistyfoot hummed, “maybe we should head further inland, then? The earth here doesn’t seem hard enough.”

“It’s not,” Stoneheart agreed, churning a paw into the mulch. “Let’s go.”

He turned away from the lake and headed deeper into the woods, his ears bobbing as he trotted his way up the gradual slope. Crowflight and the others followed. Crowflight felt the land begin to change under his paws, going from a soft carpet of pine needles to a slightly less soft carpet of pine needles as they went.

At this rate we’ll be so far from the lake, no one will want to bother ShadowClan! he thought.

The world began to get darker and darker as they walked. Crowflight felt a small tremble along his spine – what if they did lose their way? Everything in these woods looked just the same as everything else. He glanced back the way they’d come and found that the light of the lakeshore was just a thin orange sliver.

“We shouldn’t go much deeper,” he said, turning back to look at Stoneheart. “If we lose sight of the lake, we could get lost.”

Stoneheart sighed. His eyes glowed bright in the dimness. “You’re right,” he said, pulling to a stop. “I don’t see anywhere around here that might make a good camp, anyway.”

“The trees up ahead look way too tall,” Tawnypelt remarked. “And there’s oaks and maples mixed in with the pines.”

Crowflight followed her gaze. The trees just seemed to get thicker and thicker in that direction, and, like Tawnypelt said, were far too high even for ThunderClan cats and their boldest climbers. It looked dark as night beneath those branches, too – Crowflight knew that ShadowClan liked it gloomy, but not that gloomy.

Stoneheart turned the patrol around. They steered away from the darker woods and made their way back down towards the lake. Stoneheart took it slow, clearly hoping that this new perspective might give him a better idea of the lay of the land.

It seemed to be just what he needed – as the orange light turned red, the gray tom’s ears pricked and he charged ahead, making a beeline for a clump of brambles that looked just like every other one, to Crowflight’s eyes.

The patrol followed. The land here sloped in such a way that it created a flat hollow, with a break in the never-ending trees that let a shaft of dusk light shine down on a decently-sized clump of burrs, briars, tangle weeds and brambles.

Crowflight was somewhat astonished by the sight – the overgrowth had pulled down several young trees what must have been ages ago, their trunks rotted and hollowed away and covered in vines that he guessed would flower when newleaf came. Several tall pine trees stood sentinel over the area, but one, an old cedar with graying bark, held its large, fan-like branches over the hollow in a sheltering pose.

“This looks perfect!” Stoneheart breathed. “And I couldn’t even see it from anywhere but up here!”

Crowflight drank in the scent of the prospective camp. It was choked with the cloying scents of overgrowth, but it didn’t seem like anything dangerous had made its home there. Crowflight couldn’t imagine anything wanting to. He glanced at Stoneheart, whose eyes were shining. Crowflight couldn’t imagine the pride he was feeling right now.

I wish it were me, looking at WindClan’s camp...

Tawnypelt drew a paw over her ear. “Looks like a lot of work to clear out,” she mused. Her whiskers twitched. “Good luck to you on that!”

What, because your camp site is almost perfectly set up for your Clan, you’re going to insult everyone else’s? Crowflight rolled his eyes. RiverClan! Midnight probably did all that work for you!

Stoneheart didn’t seem to hear the veiled insult, not in the way that Crowflight did. The gray tom shrugged it off. “ShadowClan cats aren’t afraid of hard work,” he said simply. “Especially if it’s to carve out something of our own.”

“Well, as happy as I am for you, brother, this doesn’t look like a spot we can rest,” Mistyfoot admitted. Crowflight had to agree – they’d wake up with a half dozen burrs in their fur if they tried to sleep down there. “Let’s try to find a place to spend the night.”

“We’re not traveling all night?” Nightfrost asked, sounding disappointed.

Mistyfoot shook her head. “We don’t know this territory,” she reasoned. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to get run off into the unknown by who-knows-what is living around here.”

Stoneheart nodded in agreement, and led the others away from the prospective camp. It wasn’t long until they found another hollow-like clearing, this one less full of prickers and brambles. The ground there was soft and easy to lie on, with mossy trees and rocks lining what looked to be a dry streambed. After a quick sniff of the area, it was agreed that this would be a fine enough place to rest in.

The patrol, too tired to go on, hurriedly created nests of dried bracken and huddled together for warmth in the cold, gloomy hollow. Crowflight rolled onto his back and sighed, his breath puffing before him in a cloud.

At least here he could see the stars he was sleeping beneath.

———————————————————

Crowflight was jolted from his slumber by a rough paw on his shoulder. It was Tawnypelt, and her amber eyes glittered down on him sharply as scant pale light turned the tips of her ears to points of fire.

“Are you going to sleep all morning?” she queried.

Crowflight got to his paws. It was morning? In these pine woods it was extremely difficult to tell. He sniffed the air. It was difficult to smell, too. How did ShadowClan cats manage to find their way in a place like this? All he could smell was tree sap! He wanted to sneeze.

Once he was awake, it was agreed that the patrol would keep going rather than hunt. They didn’t have much longer to explore – they were expected back at the Arrival before moonhigh tonight.

The short time frame sent a shot of worry through Crowflight. That didn’t leave long to find not just ThunderClan’s camp, but WindClan’s as well. Crowflight looked down at the lake as they walked and realized, with a sinking feeling, that he couldn’t even see the moorland from here. They still had so far to go!

“That hollow might make a good training area, Stoneheart,” Tawnypelt was mewing.

“I was just thinking that!” Stoneheart agreed. “It reminded me of our training area back in the old forest...”

While they chatted on, Crowflight felt bitterness rising in the back of his throat. Of course they were all chatty, all happy and pleased, now that they had found homes for their Clans! He looked at Mistyfoot and Nightfrost, who were plodding ahead with a purposeful gait. Were they both really so unbothered by Tawnypelt and Stoneheart just nattering on like this?

They curved their path upslope, keeping the lake in sight but avoiding the swampier parts of the woods. It was there, not far from the hollow in which they camped, that they spotted it – a Twoleg nest.

The patrol paused, concerned. The nest was still a good length away, and it was only one nest – a nest that seemed to teeter perilously on the edge of a strangely steep hill, parts of it supported by thick, long sticks like small tree trunks. In fact, the entire nest seemed to be made of tree trunks, with little cutouts for the glass panes that were called ‘windows’ by kittypets. A small fence surrounded the area, made not of wood but of the thin, shiny webbing that Crowflight recalled seeing a lot of in the Twolegplace they had cut through on their journey.

“Great,” Stoneheart groaned. “Twolegs are here, too.”

“It’s just one nest,” Mistyfoot reasoned. “It can’t be that bad.”

“I know,” Stoneheart sighed. “I was just hoping for less of them... especially after what they’ve done to us.”

Crowflight had to agree. It was very unsettling that Twolegs just seemed to follow the Clans everywhere. Can’t they just leave us alone?

“Don’t forget what Midnight said,” Nightfrost chimed in. “Everything is a cycle. Twolegs aren’t great, but they’re part of our world, too – they're part of our cycle. We live with each other, not one way or the other.”

Tawnypelt sighed. “It sounds reasonable when you put it that way,” she admitted, “but that doesn’t mean we have to like it.”

Nightfrost shrugged. “Like it or not, that’s just how it is.”

Stoneheart chuckled. “I suppose so! And ShadowClan will live with that.”

“Who is living with what, now?” hissed a voice. “I don’t know you, and I certainly don’t want to live anywhere near ya!”

Crowflight bristled. Suddenly the smell of a foreign cat assaulted his senses, breaking through the pine smells that had clogged his senses for nearly a day. The others, just as surprised, immediately unsheathed their claws, pushing themselves together in a familiar defensive line that Tawnypelt had to scramble to fit into.

A shape flickered between the bushes, and a black-and-white tom slowly padded out from the bracken. His body was big, muscular, and broad, and there was undisguised malice in his eyes. Crowflight’s eyes spotted several scars dotting his pelt – a sharp contrast to his jingling collar. This kittypet is a fighter!

“Susan, now!” the tom yelled.

There was another yowl behind the patrol. Mistyfoot shrieked, and the smell of blood hit the air. Crowflight whipped around and saw Mistyfoot wrestling in the pine needles with a pale tabby she-cat, smaller and leaner than her companion but just as scarred, and just as much a kittypet.

“Get off of her!” snarled Nightfrost. The small black tom slammed himself squarely into the she-cat, sending her sprawling off of Mistyfoot. Tawnypelt rushed past Crowflight to back them up, helping Mistyfoot to her paws.

Stoneheart raised his hackles at the black-and-white tom. “An ambush? From a kittypet?”

“Kittypet this!” hissed the tom, lunging at Stoneheart.

Crowflight hopped out of the way as the kittypet tom pulled Stoneheart to the earth and began pummeling him with his paws.

“You’re not welcome here!” the tom roared, lunging for Stoneheart’s throat.

As if! Crowflight sank his jaws into the kittypet’s collar, hearing a very satisfying choking noise as he pulled up sharply on the strange, foul-tasting device. The kittypet gagged as Stoneheart slipped away, his forepaws flailing uselessly in the air.

Stoneheart took the opportunity to whirl on the kittypet tom, fire in his eyes as he struck the black-and-white cat in the face with his claws. Crowflight let go, letting the kittypet land in the dirt, his face bloodied from ear to muzzle, a jagged, horrible line of gushing red that went across his eye.

“This is ShadowClan land, now!” Stoneheart hissed, puffing himself up as he stood over the kittypet. “You’re not welcome here!”

Crowflight felt a tremor of unease, looking at Stoneheart’s expression. It seemed to be a sentiment shared by the kittypet tom – he scrambled to his paws, one eye caked with blood, and hissed. The she-cat wiggled free from Tawnypelt, Mistyfoot, and Nightfrost and hurried to his side, her own flanks covered in new scratches. She looked horrified at her companion’s shredded face.

“Jaques!” she cried. “Your eye! What did that cat do?!”

“C’mon, Susan,” Jaques replied, spitting a clot of blood. “We’ll get them back. This isn’t the last they’ve seen of us...”

The two kittypets slunk away, heading for the mesh fence of their Twoleg nest. Crowflight’s ears were ringing – he ought to be helping assess the damage to the patrol, but he couldn't take his eyes off of Stoneheart. The gray tom looked massive, his eyes burning so intensely...

“Let’s get out of their way for now,” Tawnypelt decided. “Mistyfoot’s scratches are pretty deep – those kittypets were no joke.”

Stoneheart shrank at the sound of the RiverClan deputy’s voice. “They certainly weren’t,” he agreed, his voice low and angry. “That tom tried to kill me!”

Crowflight swallowed and turned to look at the others. Nightfrost and Tawnypelt looked fine, but Mistyfoot’s flanks sported large red weals. Nightfrost was sniffing at them, his tail flicking worriedly in a way that reminded Crowflight of his sister, Shadepaw.

“We need some cobwebs, at least,” Nightfrost determined, “and some moss for the blood...”

Tawnypelt’s ear flicked. “Having a medicine cat for a sister pays off, hm?”

Nightfrost only nodded, his eyes flickering with worry. Crowflight looked at Mistyfoot, whose gaze was glazed with pain. Leaving Shadepaw behind was a mistake! He thought, anger festering in his pelt. What if Mistyfoot is really hurt?

“I’ll be fine,” Mistyfoot insisted. “It stings, but my fur blocked the worst of it, I think.” She shook out her coat to prove the point, but it was obvious to any cat that she was hurt when she stumbled.

Mistyfoot caught herself and tried to deflect: “Maybe ShadowClan could make good use of those kittypets, eh?”

Stoneheart’s voice was far away. “Maybe.” His pale eyes bored into the lone Twoleg nest that the kittypets had slunk off to.

Crowflight thought Stoneheart looked deep in thought. The gray tom padded past the other cats and began leading the way away from the Twoleg nest and back towards the lake. Tawnypelt shrugged and followed, while Mistyfoot and Nightfrost hurried after them.

Finding his paws, Crowflight followed. Their pace was quick – Stoneheart seemed very interested in putting as much distance between the patrol and the Twoleg nest as possible. Crowflight didn’t disagree, but he wondered what had the ShadowClan warrior so gloomy all of the sudden.

The kittypet was willing to kill him... Crowflight thought, unease in his belly. But I don’t know if that warranted clawing his face off... Maybe he’s just worried about ShadowClan having such dangerous cats for neighbors?

Stoneheart was someone that Crowflight had looked up to since their journey had begun in greenleaf – a patient, quiet, thoughtful warrior; even as the lines between the Clans were becoming unblurred, Crowflight found it hard to see past that. Stoneheart was probably the closest to a littermate he’d ever known.

The sight of Stoneheart doing something so violent, even to a threatening kittypet, made it seem like he was looking at an entirely different cat.