[TB] STARLIGHT -- Chapter 6 (Patreon)

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Crowflight and the others made their way back to the Arrival as the moon climbed high into the sky, silent and determined. Their pawsteps were quick and light, and the chill in the air didn’t bother them – they had accomplished their mission, and the excitement of telling their Clanmates about their new homes was bigger than an impending leafbare could ever be.

They dodged around the patch of land that crumbled away into the lake and headed uphill towards the fallen tree stump and clumps of bushes where the Clans were currently sheltering. Silhouetted against the faint moonlight, Crowflight could make out cats moving here and there between the bushes. He tried to guess who they were, but it was impossible, and the mingled scents of the Clans coming down from the hills meant even less.

A pair of lookouts spotted them quickly, however, and Crowflight recognized them at least by voice – Thornpaw of his own Clan, and Smokepaw of ShadowClan. The two ought to have been asleep at this time of night, by Crowflight’s guess, but awake they were, and they were positioned on the high point of one of the hills bordering the Clan’s temporary camp.

“They’re back!” Thornpaw yowled into the night. She turned and cried, “The patrol’s come back!”

There was an immediate stirring in the shadows. Cats poured out from every bush, behind every hill, and suddenly, before the patrol had even stepped paw into the camp proper, they were surrounded.

“What’d you find?” Dustpelt of ThunderClan demanded, his pale eyes glaring at Mistyfoot. “Plenty of trees?”

“Do we have homes?” Heavystep, a RiverClan warrior, was looking at Tawnypelt. “Is there room for us here?”

“What’d you see?” asked another cat.

“I want to hear!” cried an apprentice. “Tell me, tell me!”

Crowflight pressed himself against Stoneheart. The patrol was barraged with questions from understandably eager cats, but that didn’t make it any less annoying or intrusive, especially when Crowflight wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep off his tired paws.

The others were just as shocked and overwhelmed, pressing together into a tight ball. How could they possibly answer all of these questions? Crowflight bristled, wondering if he might have to swat some cat on the muzzle if they got too close to him.

A commanding yowl saved them: “Enough!”

It was Leopardstar. The dappled she-cat pushed her way through the crowd, her presence – and the presence of Russetstar, Tinystar, and Mudclaw just behind her – quieting the group of eager warriors. Leopardstar’s amber eyes flashed and she glared at the surrounding cats until they took at least two steps back each.

“There's no need to crowd,” Tinystar offered, his tone and demeanor more amicable than Leopardstar’s. His ice blue eyes lighted on each cat from the patrol. “They’ve a lot to tell us, I presume, and you’ll hear all the details soon enough!”

Russetstar was nodding in agreement. “We’ll convene with the members of the patrol and hear their reports,” she stated firmly. Her gaze rested solely on Stoneheart. “We’ll take what they’ve told us and approximate our territories from there.”

“And then we can leave,” Mudclaw finished. His eyes burned into Crowflight, and Crowflight resisted the urge to shrink beneath his former mentor’s gaze.

Mudclaw stood on no more ceremony – he flicked his tail at Crowflight and then headed off into the night. Crowflight swallowed. He’d wanted to tell Shadepaw all he’d seen first, not Mudclaw; but he couldn’t see her in the crowd – she was probably with the other medicine cats, talking about their own issues. He'd have to talk to her later – Mudclaw didn’t like to wait.

The patrol split. Tawnypelt followed Leopardstar towards the lake shore, and Crowflight caught sight of Falcontail’s shape slinking away from the crowd to join them. Tinystar summoned his senior warriors with a flick of his tail, ushering them, Mistyfoot, and Nightfrost away towards where the bushes were thickest. Russetstar brought Blackfoot and Wolftooth with her as she and Stoneheart made their way towards the tree stump.

Crowflight’s pelt prickled. He didn’t like the way they were all huddling in secret, but there was nothing for it now. Lines had to be drawn. The four Clans had to be four once more, no matter what. He got to his paws and hurried after Mudclaw, leaving the remaining cats, disappointed to not have been chosen for the discussion, to speculate.

Mudclaw met him on the top of the farthest bordering hill, with Onewhisker and Ashfoot. Crowflight greeted his mother with a short purr and a touch of the nose before he sat down before them. He curled his tail around his paws, hoping that he could hide his nerves. He’d never been singled out in a positive way before, not by Mudclaw.

“Tell us what you found.” Mudclaw’s tone was simple, cutting right to it.

Crowflight swallowed. Suddenly his mouth felt too dry to speak. He glanced at Ashfoot and Onewhisker, both of whom look far more eager to hear what he had to say than Mudclaw did. He took their curiosity as confidence.

“The moorland here is vast,” Crowflight began. “It seems to go on forever – there's far more land here than WindClan will ever need.”

“How was prey running?” Onewhisker asked.

“It seemed to run just fine,” Crowflight responded. “It was plentiful, for this time of year. The prey here hasn’t had to deal with Clans before, though, so once we establish ourselves hunting might become harder.”

Onewhisker nodded in agreement, his gaze turning thoughtful.

Ashfoot was next, her eyes curious, “Were there any dangers?”

Crowflight thought of the two kittypets, Jaques and Susan, and grimaced. Thankfully they would be firmly on the other side of the lake – ShadowClan's problem, presumably.

He responded, “We didn’t get a chance to explore every whisker of the land, but in our territory, and in the camp I found, I scented nothing out of the ordinary.”

“We’ll have to scour the entire moor,” Ashfoot mewed thoughtfully. “Daunting, but not impossible!” Crowflight thought he saw an adventurous gleam in his mother’s eye. It made her look much younger, and happier.

“Tell us about the camp,” Onewhisker mewed, his eyes brightening. “Please!”

Crowflight glanced at Mudclaw. So far, the deputy had not asked anything. It was so difficult to read the brown tabby’s gaze. Wasn’t he at all curious? Was he angry? Had Crowflight done something wrong?

All he could do was go on: “The spot I found was a small clearing surrounded by a few high hills. There’s plenty of rocks for sentry points, and it’s well-hidden from outside view. There’s a large rowan growing out of one of the hills, and I think it’ll provide good cover when it blooms again. There’s a lot of gorse and brambles to clear out, but once we do I think there’ll be more than enough space for us all.”

Mudclaw spoke, finally: “Did the others see the camp?”

Crowflight flicked an ear. “Uh... no,” he answered. “I discovered it on my own.” He decided to leave out the bit about failing the catch the rabbit – from Mudclaw’s intense expression, he guessed that wouldn’t be prudent.

“Good,” Mudclaw decided. “Did you see the other’s prospective camps?”

Crowflight bristled at his hackles. “Yes,” he admitted. What was Mudclaw getting at?

Mudclaw didn’t say anything further on it, however: “We’ll scout out this camp of yours in the morning, but it sounds suitable. In the meantime, tell me about the territory – what areas would make good borders?”

Crowflight blinked, confused. Suitable? That’s all you have to say?

Crowflight forced his voice to be even as he meowed on, “Well, I don’t know what’ll make a good border on this side of the lake, but I doubt we’ll need territory beyond that horseplace over there. On the ThunderClan side, though, there’s a decently large river that cuts into the forest – it doesn’t bend too far in any direction, so I think that might be a good, easy border with them.”

Mudclaw frowned. He glanced out across the lake, though Crowflight guessed he probably couldn’t see much in the darkness. "That leaves some forest on our side, no?” he guessed.

“It does,” Crowflight explained, “but not much.”

“Good,” Mudclaw grunted.

Onewhisker’s tail curled around his paws. “I don’t know,” he mewed. “It sounds like we’ll have more than enough land. Do we need the forest?”

Mudclaw flashed the smaller warrior a scrutinizing look. Ashfoot, however, offered, “We can figure out the details later. Right now, I think the simplest solution is best for the borders, no? At least until the others figure out what they want? We don’t want to start fights for nothing.”

Crowflight had to agree, nodding alongside his mother. There was no need to get overcomplicated right now, when the territories were so new. Onewhisker, seemingly oblivious to the glare he was getting from Mudclaw, shrugged and grunted in agreement.

Mudclaw gave no opinion, only lashed his tail. “I’ll go and speak with the other leaders.”

Without another word he was off, heading for the tree stump. Russetstar was already there, but Crowflight could see Leopardstar and Tinystar coming away from their own conversations to join them.

“They’ll be talking most of the night, I’ll bet,” Onewhisker sighed. He perked up and mewed, “Well! Glad it’s not me! I’d hate to have to negotiate anything with Leopardstar...”

“Why don’t you get some sleep, Crowflight?” Ashfoot suggested. “You must be exhausted.”

Crowflight frowned. He'd been too excited to bring the news of their territory back to his Clanmates to think much about how tired he was. He could feel sleep pulling hard at his paws now, and he nodded to his mother wordlessly. Ashfoot looked at him with a fond, proud expression that made Crowflight’s pelt warm, and she licked his forehead.

Crowflight turned away from his mother and Onewhisker and headed back into WindClan’s part of the camp – but he didn’t get far before he was being badgered by his Clanmates about their territory.

“Tell us!” Thornpaw was begging. “I want to hear about the camp!”

Weaselpaw and Thistlepaw were beside her, their eyes round and eager. Thistlepaw piped up, “Please!”

“I want to know the best spot to hunt!” Smokewillow mewed.

“Are we getting any of those trees?” wondered Bramblefur.

Tornear curled his lip. “I hope not!”

Softbreeze nodded in agreement. “WindClan has never needed trees!”

“Well, I hope we have enough territory,” Webfoot grumbled. “Those others are going to take all they can, for sure!”

Emberstep took a step towards Crowflight. “Well? What’s it like?” Duskwhisker was a shadow behind her, looking just as curious as everyone else.

Crowflight wasn’t sure what to do. He was so tired, but they wanted to know so badly, and when was the last time his Clanmates had looked at him so eagerly? Certainly not for a long, long time!

“Excuse me,” a polite mew said.

Crowflight sniffed. Shadepaw’s scent crossed his nose, warm and comforting, just before the tortoiseshell cat appeared from the shadows.

“I’m not a full medicine cat yet, but I can say for certain that Crowflight is very tired from his journey,” Shadepaw meowed, her tone crisp. “You should let him rest – there'll be plenty of time to ask questions in the morning; and not only that, you’ll be able to explore your territories for yourselves soon enough!”

The apprentices groaned collectively, along with Emberstep, Duskwhisker, and the other younger warriors, but Tornear and Webfoot were nodding in agreement, looking apologetically at Crowflight, as if they regretted badgering him. They all stepped away, and Crowflight felt Shadepaw press against his shoulder as she guided him towards a quiet, grassy spot further away from the crowd.

They lay down together in the field, and Crowflight rolled onto his back. Above he could see the stars, shining brilliantly in the dark sky. He spotted the Father, and noted that it seemed like it was right above the lake, brighter than any star in Silverpelt. It had been so far away before – what would it be like, laying almost beneath it now?

Shadepaw lay her head on her paws. “You’ve had quite the adventure,” she mewed. “Nightfrost told me some of it. You fought kittypets?”

“Yeah,” Crowflight sighed. His pelt shivered at the thought. “One tried to take off Stoneheart’s head!”

Shadepaw cringed. “That sounds awful,” she admitted. “Mistyfoot was really scratched up. She’ll be okay, but I can’t imagine living near them!”

Crowflight shrugged. “It’s gonna be ShadowClan’s problem, I’ll bet,” he sighed, nestling into the grass. “It’s deep in the pines, I don’t think they can reasonably pin them on ThunderClan.”

Shadepaw poked him with a paw. “That’s not nice,” she chided.

“What?” Crowflight blinked at her, turning his head to face Shadepaw. She did indeed look a little cross, and Crowflight felt badly about that, but: “They’ll be across the lake from WindClan. What could we do to help them?”

Shadepaw’s crossness faded to sorrow at his point sorely made. “I wish we weren’t separating,” she murmured. “Feathertail and Stormfur are gone, and now it feels like I’ll lose Stoneheart, and you, too...”

Crowflight felt a pang in his gut as her eyes shimmered with emotion. He rolled onto his belly, wrapping his body around her. “I don’t want to part, either,” he murmured, laying his head beside her forepaws. “But you’re a medicine cat, and we’re warriors. Medicine cats don’t see borders so rigidly, but if the rest of us can’t go back to being warriors who follow the warrior code...”

“I know,” Shadepaw sighed. She laid her head down on her paws, their whiskers tickling one another. “There must always be four Clans. I know that. But, after all this... does that really make sense anymore?”

Crowflight frowned. “Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t,” he reasoned, something uncomfortable wiggling in his stomach, “but do you really think we’d all be able to work together forever? There’s just too much that makes each Clan different for that to work.”

Shadepaw said nothing, but Crowflight sensed her grumbling inside. He wished he could console her, but just the fact that they were laying here together was probably drawing attention. It was best not to go further than that, especially since the Clans were separating, and doing it tomorrow morning, in fact.

“Did you guys see anything strange on your patrol?” Shadepaw asked. “Like, any weird landmarks or stones?”

Crowflight shook his head, after thinking back. “Just some Twoleg stuff,” he answered simply. “Why?”

Shadepaw sighed. “We’re so far away from the Moonstone, now,” she explained, lowering her voice. The cats around them were coming down from their excitement, each finding a place to sleep within their own Clans. Crowflight could hear kits complaining about that not far off, but that was nothing compared to the realization that had just dawned on him due to Shadepaw’s words.

“C-Can’t you just go back there?” he wondered.

Shadepaw looked troubled. “We don’t know,” she mewed, her eyes glittering with a new concern, “and it’s so far. If we’re to see StarClan every half-moon, it’s just not a practical journey to make. We’d be gone longer than we’d be in our own Clans! And what if StarClan isn’t at the Moonstone anymore? If they came with us on their own Great Journey, they’re here now, not there.”

Crowflight swallowed around a lump in his throat. He hadn’t even thought of any of that – the privilege of being a warrior, he supposed. Still, “If we can't speak with StarClan...”

Shadepaw guessed his line of thinking: “We might not be able to stay here.”

Crowflight bristled. “But StarClan led us here!” he hissed, lifting his muzzle from his paws. They can’t mean to bring us all this way, put us through so much, only to have us pick up and leave again! How many cats would they lose if they had to go on a second Great Journey? Would the four Clans even be four Clans at the end?

Shadepaw covered his muzzle with a paw. “Hush!” she insisted, eyes wide and worried. “And, yes, we all know that. But if we can’t speak to them, how do we really know their intentions?”

“So, we need a new Moonstone,” Crowflight concluded.

Shadepaw nodded. “We do.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “But... that’s not for warriors to worry about, I suppose.”

Crowfight fought to keep his voice down: “Fox-dung! You’re worried about it, aren't you? That’s enough for me!”

“Mouse-brain!” Shadepaw chuckled. Amusement lit her gaze, and her whiskers twitched. “Be quiet, will you? I’m sure it’ll sort itself out, if this is where we’re meant to be. And it is, I’m sure of it! So, get some sleep!”

Crowflight opened his jaws to argue, but Shadepaw’s firm gaze made him clamp his muzzle shut. He felt a rush of affection for the she-cat as he laid his head back down at his paws. The idea of having no means of communicating with StarClan was very worrying, but Shadepaw did have a point – it would sort itself out, if this was where the Clans were meant to be.

He closed his eyes, breathing in Shadepaw’s scent. It wasn’t up to him to think about anything beyond that – he was just a warrior, after all.

If anyone can figure it out, it's Shadepaw.

———————————————————

Crowflight was awake at dawn, and found that Shadepaw was gone. He sighed, lamenting her loss, but he got to his paws. After last night’s conversation and what today marked for the Clans, it made sense that Shadepaw would be on her paws already. There was much to do.

She’s probably with Brackenfur or Mothwing, he thought. Shadepaw had been assigned to help the RiverClan medicine cat on the journey, after she’d lost her mentor Mudfur to old age not long after her own training had begun. That meant looking after two Clans worth of cats! Crowflight certainly didn’t envy that amount of responsibility.

He breathed in the air. Some cats were missing, presumably on last-minute hunting patrols, but not many. The Clans were milling about, excited, waking up those that were still dozing. He spotted Nightfrost being barraged by Spiderpaw and Whitepaw, probably about their new territory. Stoneheart was with Rowanclaw, the two mates grooming one another’s sleep away while Finchsong’s kits bounced around them. A flash of blue-gray by the stump told him that Mistyfoot was talking with Tinystar, their heads bent and voices quiet.

Crowflight searched for his own Clanmates. While the other Clans were organizing themselves for the journey ahead, WindClan was, to Crowflight’s surprise, doing nothing of the sort. His Clanmates were gathered up, yes, but they were huddled about a tree’s length away from the bush where Tallstar was resting, and no cat seemed excited to move out – a stark contrast to the night before, where they hadn’t been able to stop bothering Crowflight about their new home.

Confused, Crowflight trotted over to his mother. Ashfoot was with Poppyfoot and Softbreeze, their gazes fixed on Tallstar’s resting place. Crowfight peered between the branches and spotted Barkface’s dark shape inside the makeshift den. There was another cat in there, too, but Crowflight couldn’t make them out.

“What’s going on?” Crowflight wondered.

The leaves rustled, and Tornear stepped out of the den. The older tom looked immeasurably sad, and he sat down beside Webfoot, his chin low. Duskwhisker rose and took his place, her dark pelt disappearing into Tallstar’s den.

Ashfoot blinked at her son. “Tallstar is dying,” she meowed quietly. “His last life is slipping away.”

“W-What?!” The words caught in Crowflight’s throat.

Softbreeze nodded. “We’re saying our good-byes,” she explained.

Duskwhisker slid out of the den, her expression dark. She padded over to the side, wrapping her tail around her paws, alone. Whitetail slipped in, next.

Crowflight felt like choking, his eyes fixated on Tallstar’s den. This can’t be happening! He thought. It was something every cat in WindClan knew would happen soon, but it was so unfair! He should be able to see his Clan in their new camp! He’s come this far already, wouldn’t a few more steps be just fine?

“Almost every cat has seen him,” Ashfoot explained. “We’re not sure if we’ll be able to hold a proper vigil.” Her gaze softened on him. “Go on, Crowflight. Tell him about where we’ll be living.”

“He’d like that,” Poppyfoot agreed. Softbreeze nodded, too.

Crowflight swallowed. Was he the last cat to see Tallstar off? His paws trembled, and time seemed to stretch on and on, into forever. This was so incredibly unfair! It only felt like yesterday that Tallstar had given him his full name, and back then he had seemed so strong!

I’m the last warrior that Tallstar will ever have named, he realized. Oh, StarClan...

Whitetail emerged from the den, and Ashfoot nudged Crowflight forward. “Tell him, Crow,” Ashfoot murmured into his ear. “Tell him we’ll be okay.”

Crowflight had no choice. He moved through the crowd as if his paws were stuck in a peat bog, sluggish and slow. His Clanmates that weren’t privately grieving turned their gazes to him, their eyes piercing like claws, but Crowflight couldn’t focus on that.

What did one say to their leader as he lay dying?

He pushed his way into the bush. It was warm inside, the shelter bolstered against the chill by a hasty wall of bracken and moss that covered any gaps. Barkface was there, dabbing at Tallstar’s forehead with a soaked ball of moss.

Crowflight could tell by Tallstar’s expression that no medicine would help him now. His eyes were unfocused, pale and staring far-away, crusted with sleep, the white fur of his muzzle stained by running liquid. His body was stretched out, his ribs poking through his pelt, his side shivering with every breath he struggled to take. The light in his eye was fading, barely visible at all.

When Crowflight entered, Tallstar tried to raise his head, but failed. “Deadfoot?” he rasped, chin falling, “Is... is that you?”

The words stung. Crowflight swallowed, glancing at Barkface, who looked just as stunned. Crowflight’s father had been Tallstar’s deputy before Mudclaw, dying in the battle against BloodClan at Fourtrees in the old forest before Crowflight had even been born. Not only that, but Tallstar and Deadfoot had been mentor and apprentice – they'd been very close friends.

It might’ve been sweet, once, to be confused for Deadfoot; but now it only showcased how far gone Tallstar’s mind was. “It’s Crowflight,” he corrected gently. “Not... not Deadfoot.

Tallstar blinked. “Ah,” he sighed. “I see, now. Your eyes... your mother’s eyes...”

Crowflight edged closer to the old black-and-white tom. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts – he didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“I’ve found us a home,” he began tentatively, glancing at the medicine cat. When Barkface nodded for him to go on, Crowflight began to describe all he had seen to Tallstar. He was by no means a good storyteller, but Tallstar’s eyes widened, even sparkled, at Crowflight’s words, and that spurred the younger warrior on. Perhaps he embellished a detail or two, to make Tallstar’s imagination run wild one last time, but it was worth it to see his dying leader’s face light up with a life that had been fading for moons.

Tallstar laid his chin down when Crowflight was done and sighed. “It sounds... lovely,” he breathed. “So, so lovely...”

“It will be,” Crowflight said.

“I want WindClan to have a new start,” Tallstar went on. “This place... it’s the perfect time. Isn’t it? Things have changed... things must change...”

Crowflight swallowed. Barkface dabbed at Tallstar’s forehead and murmured, “Easy, Tallstar. Save your breath...”

“No,” Tallstar groaned. His expression grew alert, intense. “I am leader of WindClan yet,” he rasped. “I will not see... blood upon the heather.” His eyes locked onto Barkface. “Fetch Onewhisker.”

Barkface dropped his moss ball, shocked. “T-Tallstar! You mustn’t-”

“You heard me!” Tallstar growled, his eyes narrowing. “Do it! And you!”

Crowflight stood stiff, shocked by the surge of energy Tallstar was experiencing. “Me?” he said clumsily.

“Get me Tinystar,” Tallstar meowed. “And-” he broke off to cough, “hurry!”

Once again Crowflight looked to Barkface, who must’ve been just as shocked as Crowflight, if not more so. Still, though, the old medicine cat’s hackles fell, and he sighed to Crowflight, “It’s what he wants. And he is right – he's still our leader...”

“I am!” Tallstar huffed, resting his chin on the side of his nest. “So why are you both still here?!”

Crowflight jumped to his paws, and Barkface was scrambling, too. He tried not to bolt out of the den – that would’ve attracted too much attention – but his expression wasn’t something he could easily contain as he stumbled towards the ThunderClan cats outside.

What’s going on? He wondered. He would obey Tallstar, for sure, but what did he have in mind?

“What’s up with you?” asked a sharp voice – Duskwhisker, whom Crowflight had nearly barreled into. She looked cross, her mourning interrupted by his carelessness. “Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry!” Crowflight breathed.

He darted around her and took off at a run, pushing through ThunderClan cat after ThunderClan cat until he reached their heart, where Tinystar was sitting, chatting with Mistyfoot beside the stump. Beyond the complaints of her Clanmates, it was Mistyfoot who turned to him and mewed, “Crowflight? What’s wrong?”

“Tallstar is dying,” he breathed. He looked to ThunderClan’s leader. “He wants to see you, Tinystar.”

Tinystar’s expression turned to sadness, though his eyes sparked with intrigue. “Very well,” he meowed. “Mistyfoot, let’s finish our conversation on the way...”

Crowflight sat by while the two padded off, heading directly for Tallstar’s nest. Crowflight followed, unable to bear the annoyed and concerned looks he was getting from the other ThunderClan cats. He arrived in time to see Tinystar enter the den – there was a yowl from Tallstar, and Mistyfoot, surprised, joined her leader inside.

What’s that about? Crowflight wondered, sitting down on his haunches. Not long after, the rising sun turning them both yellow, Barkface and Onewhisker appeared. Barkface tried to enter, but had to step back – Crowflight tensed. Tallstar had denied his own medicine cat entrance?

By now it was clear to everyone that something was happening. Barkface, however, refused to allow any WindClan cats inside, and the other three Clans were gathering up at a respectful distance, their eyes curious.

Crowflight resented that. How dare they stick their muzzles into WindClan affairs? But Tallstar had asked for Tinystar, he thought. The two leaders were famously friendly, but something about it still rubbed Crowflight’s pelt the wrong way.

“What’s happening?” demanded Tornear. “Why’s Tinystar in there?”

“Where’s Mudclaw?” asked Whitetail. The small white she-cat peered through the crowd. “Is he still out hunting?”

Crowflight’s heart hammered in his chest. There was no sign of Mudclaw at all. Where was WindClan’s deputy when they needed him most? He’ll be our leader soon... he needs to be here!

“I’ll go fetch him!” Thornpaw chimed. Before any cat could protest, she shot off, heading towards the horseplace.

“I’ll go with her,” Emberstep sighed. "Apprentices!” The dark she-cat brushed past Crowflight, her paws pounding to catch up to Thornpaw.

Crowflight turned his attention back to Tallstar’s den. Some cats were creeping closer, ears swiveled to eavesdrop, and frustration at his own Clanmates welled up inside Crowflight.

“What are you, queens at a Gathering?” he snarled, stepping forward. He glared at his Clanmates, at Webfoot and Smokewillow, who seemed intent to get closer. “These are Tallstar’s final moments, and you want to spy?”

The two warriors slunk back, tails low. Crowflight positioned himself between the den and his Clanmates, his stance firm and his tail lashing. Whatever Tallstar was saying, he couldn’t hear it – but he would defend his leader’s right to say it in private. They were his last words, after all.

It felt like ages before there were any developments. When the bush finally rustled, it was sunhigh. Most of the non-WindClan cats had gone off to arrange their own affairs, the move to their new territories delayed for certain but not put off completely yet. Mudclaw still had not returned, and neither had Emberstep nor Thornpaw, who were still searching for him on unfamiliar ground.

Crowflight moved aside, his muscles tense as he watched the bush. Onewhisker and Mistyfoot came out as one, and draped between them was the body of Tallstar, limp, his paws and long tail dragging against the grass.

A gasp of shock and horror rippled through the crowd of WindClan cats. Crowflight’s heart sank. He’s gone, he thought dismally. He’s really gone.

He locked eyes with Mistyfoot, and found her expression... troubling. Onewhisker’s, too, was not the grief that Crowflight expected. Crowflight’s stomach twisted. What had happened?

As if to answer him, Tinystar appeared. His expression, at least, was fitting – full of sorrow for his old friend as he lifted his muzzle and announced: “Tallstar is dead.”