[TB] STARLIGHT -- Chapter 15 (Patreon)
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It was a cold walk across the moor, the wind stiff and promising of more frost and snow. As they walked, Crowflight kept half an eye out for hawks circling the sky, looking for an easy meal before leafbare put all the prey to ground.
We have so much more space here, Crowflight reflected, as their paws took them across the Verdant Moor. The rises were low and rolling here, compared to the steeper slopes in the Golden Hills, which made them much easier hunting grounds for predatory birds. Hawks are definitely going to be more of a problem.
Crowflight breathed in a lungful of cold air as he looked up at a pale sky ringed with clouds. Perhaps some of the Tribe’s techniques could be useful here? He couldn’t imagine WindClan going for the idea of bringing a cat on patrol that only looked up at the sky, but they might be able to adapt the idea to suit them.
He tucked the idea away. I’ll bring it up to Onewhisker when he has a moment, he decided. WindClan had bigger problems right now.
Duskwhisker led the patrol along the shore of the lake, avoiding the stony ground and the broken Twoleg halfbridge. Ryewhisper stared into the reeds, his eyes round – Crowflight guessed he was wondering what herbs might lay within, as WindClan cats hardly ever had access to such environment before – the closest they came to such a place was whatever narrow strip of land gave them access to the waters of the gorge, and that came with contending with RiverClan.
As the sun arced across the sky, they crossed over the WindClan border. The Horseplace was just up the hill, opposite the lake, and Crowflight wrinkled his nose at the smell that came down from the structure – horses, he found, stank in a milder way than sheep did. They still stank, though.
From near the shore, Crowflight saw a small gray and white cat-shape against the Horseplace fence. Crowflight felt eyes pierce him from across that great distance, before the cat disappeared beyond the fence and into the field.
“Any word on the cats that live in the Horseplace?” Crowflight wondered, turning away as his pelt prickled.
Duskwhisker shrugged up ahead. “No idea on them, really,” she admitted. “They haven’t bothered our patrols yet, but we haven’t exactly gotten in their whiskers, either.”
“They may be wondering how long we’re staying, if we’re a threat to them,” Ryewhisper cautioned. He glanced up at the Horseplace. “Opening a peaceful dialogue now would surely avoid conflict in the future...”
“If Onewhisker and Ashfoot want us to talk to them, we will,” Duskwhisker mewed. She glanced back at Ryewhisper. “Haven’t heard a word about it yet, though.”
“Let’s leave them be, then,” Crowflight insisted. “No reason to invite trouble.” He thought of the pair of kittypets on ShadowClan territory, and how they had tried to kill he and the others just for passing through. He hoped to StarClan that these Horseplace cats weren’t like that.
Their patrol skirted the marshy islands beyond WindClan territory and hurried their way past the Arrival. Crowflight’s nose twitched – he could still smell the faint scents of all four Clans, from when they had gathered there their first few nights beside the lake.
There was no time for reflection, however. Soon enough they were at the border of RiverClan territory – the biggest of the rivers that forked out of the lake on this side. Here the bend was narrow, and a cat could leap across if they put some effort in. Crowflight spotted the leaning willow that he and the others had seen on their first forays around the lake territories, and he raised his tail to halt Duskwhisker and Ryewhisper.
“We should stop here,” he said, coming to the shore of the river. It wasn’t as deep as the one that had been the border between ThunderClan and WindClan, but it would still be a pain to cross without guidance. He looked to his companions. “I’m sure a patrol will come by.”
“I hope so,” Duskwhisker sighed. Her fur fluffed. “It’s cold out here.”
Ryewhisper nodded his head rapidly in agreement, his tail trembling.
Crowflight dug his paws into the earth, wishing the same for some sort of warmth and finding only chilly dirt. It was already past sunhigh, and if they wanted to get back to camp before dark, RiverClan needed to come by, now.
RiverClan does sunhigh patrols, right? He wondered. He sniffed the air, and smelled only the strong, fishy marker of RiverClan. Or are they just that lazy? Had they missed the patrol?
Soon enough, though, Crowflight spotted some shapes trotting across the lowlands. He raised his tail to signal them, and their pace increased, the patrol rushing to the border with pelts fluffed and claws flashing in the sunlight.
Crowflight’s spine bristled. Do they think we’re here to invade? Are they cotton-brained?
Thankfully, Falcontail, the leader of the patrol, quickly spotted Ryewhisper. “At ease,” he ordered, slowing to a walk as he approached the border from the other side of the river. On either side of him, Frostsplash and Reedpaw lowered their hackles.
“What is it you want, WindClan?” Falcontail asked, his tail swishing back and forth.
Ryewhisper stepped forward. “I’d like to speak with Mothwing, if I could,” he meowed. “It’s not an emergency, but it is still urgent.”
Falcontail tipped his head, as if he were considering it. Crowflight had to resist rolling his eyes. You’re not deputy anymore, and Ryewhisper is a medicine cat! You can’t really be thinking of denying him, can you?
Finally, after making them wait, Falcontail nodded his head and declared, “Alright, come on over.”
One by one, the WindClan cats crossed over the border. The leap was easy, Crowflight recalled, but one of Ryewhisper’s back legs splashed into the water, which earned a chuckle from Reedpaw. Crowflight was about to snap at the apprentice for being rude, but Frostsplash got there first, quietly chiding the little tom until he hung his head.
When all three were over the border, Falcontail mewed, “Frostsplash, take Reedpaw and continue the hunt. I’ll take the WindClan cats to camp.”
Frostsplash nodded and drew Reedpaw close as Falcontail led the way. Crowflight and Duskwhisker silently surrounded Ryewhisper on either side, their caution ramping up as they walked through enemy territory.
RiverClan’s land was flat and low, the grasses short and soft thanks to the excessive moisture in the earth. It felt strange when compared to the tall, rattling grasses that covered WindClan’s hills. It was all open space but for the patches of forested land that separated the lake from the small Twolegplace just beyond, and gnarled old willows dotted the landscape here and there.
Crowflight spotted RiverClan’s camp just ahead, marked out by a massive willow tree amid the fork of a smaller river. Falcontail splashed through the water without a care in the world, but Crowflight and the others leaped. Ryewhisper made it without getting wet this time, thankfully.
Falcontail raised his tail for silence. Crowflight clamped his jaws, aware that they were extremely close to RiverClan’s camp. He knew this place well – Midnight the badger had spoken to them within the confines of these reeds, under the shade of that willow, and they had rested here before heading back to the old forest.
Crowflight wondered where their entrance was, and how they had structured their camp. Falcontail nodded at a break in the reed wall and motioned for the WindClan patrol to slip inside. With Ryewhisper in the lead, and Falcontail at the rear, they passed through the tunnel and into the camp.
It was just about as it had been before, much to Crowflight’s relief. The RiverClan cats had uprooted some bushes to make room for their specially-woven dens, but otherwise it was the same as he recalled. Envy touched the tips of his whiskers – RiverClan had been very lucky, to have a place that had required so little work.
At this time of day, it seemed like most warriors were out. Only a few were padding back and forth, helping with constructing their special dens. Crowflight spotted Leopardstar laying in the sun, only raising her head when, beside her, Tawnypelt whispered into her ear about their guests.
Before Leopardstar could ask, Falcontail meowed, gesturing to Ryewhisper, “He’s asked to see Mothwing.”
Leopardstar blinked, looking a little sleepy. She nodded, though, and laid back down. Tawnypelt, however, kept her green eyes fixated on the WindClan cats.
Falcontail nodded to a clump of reeds at the far edge of camp. “She's over here. C’mon.”
The gray tabby led the patrol to part of the camp where the willow tree’s branches hung thickly, creating a screen of thin branches that rattled when they were nudged aside. Duskwhisker and Falcontail remained outside of the willow screen, while Ryewhisper and Crowflight slipped inside.
Can’t imagine why anyone would want branches poking them in the eyes, when all they’re looking for is treatment! Crowflight thought, annoyed as the willow branches ran along his back.
Mothwing was awaiting them, a golden spot amid the pale greens and browns that surrounded her. The medicine cat’s den was made of several tightly-woven reed dens, all packed with cold mud and filled with herbs, from what Crowflight could make out. Some even had herbs hanging by their stems from the den’s ceiling, and Crowflight could only wonder why. Perhaps Shadepaw would know. The largest, presumably Mothwing’s den, had a thick, mossy nest inside and a half-eaten fish tucked away for later.
“What is it?” Mothwing wondered. Crowflight spotted the shimmer of a scale on her lip, but Mothwing was too busy looked at Ryewhisper with wide, worried eyes. “Is all well in WindClan?”
“We’re fine, we’re fine,” Ryewhisper insisted. “Better than fine, really... but Robinwing is expecting kits, and we haven’t any borage to give to her...”
Mothwing’s ears twitched. “Congratulations!” she purred. “WindClan’s first kits by the lake! How exciting!”
“The borage?” Crowflight prompted. The last thing he wanted was for her and Ryewhisper to spiral on about Clan gossip – it would be easy to unravel the medicine cat’s little lie about everything being fine in WindClan if he talked about anything other than Robinwing’s first litter.
“Oh, of course,” Mothwing breathed. “We have some, yes – plenty, really. There’s a big batch growing by the Twolegplace, sheltered by their fences...”
She got up and stuck her head into one of the dens. Her tail flicked to and fro as she searched, humming to herself, until finally, “Ah - there it is!”
She came out with a bundle of what Crowflight presumed was borage, a stray leaf on her head. Mothwing shook it off, and laid the bundle at Ryewhisper’s paws.
“Is there anything else?” she asked.
Ryewhisper tipped his head. “Now that you mention it... have you seen any catmint?” he wondered.
Mothwing nodded enthusiastically, clearly happy to be of help. “Yes, I have!” she answered. “There’s plenty of that, too, though I had to dip into one of the gardens to get it. Hang on.”
She slipped into a different den this time, going so deep that only her tail stuck out. After some rummaging, she backed out, carrying a thick packet of catmint, the strong smell of which made Crowflight’s eyes sting.
Ryewhisper’s tail bushed. “Mothwing, that’s so much!” he gasped.
“I know!” Mothwing expressed, laying it out beside the borage. “One of the Twolegs must have a kittypet or two – I took as much as I dared. With leafbare coming up, you never know...”
Crowflight felt a stone drop in his stomach, and he glanced at Ryewhisper. Was the medicine cat thinking the same thing? If we’d gone to RiverClan, we could’ve gotten catmint without handing over territory. Once WindClan heard of this, there was no doubt that it would spread through camp like wildfire.
“There’s plenty for both you and ThunderClan,” Mothwing explained, patting the packet. “Please, would you take some to Brackenfur? It’s so far for me to travel, now, when it used to be just a jaunt across the river...”
“Of course,” Ryewhisper expressed, gratitude shining in his eyes. “A bounty like this should be shared, definitely!”
Mothwing smiled, her whiskers twitching. “Thank you! And please, say hello to Shadepaw for me – I miss having her help so much...”
Crowflight recalled briefly that Shadepaw had been assigned to help Mothwing on the Great Journey, after she had lost her mentor and grandfather, Mudfur, just before the Clans left the old forest. From what Crowflight recalled, the two had gotten along well – better than he’d seen Shadepaw and her own mentor get on, at least.
“Perhaps you ought to consider an apprentice for yourself,” Ryewhisper suggested, lifting his brow. “You’ve a lot of work tending to all these plants on your own.”
Mothwing sighed. “Perhaps... it just feels too soon, you know? I don’t know if I’m ready.” Her paws worked the earth in a way that reminded Crowflight of when Mistyfoot’s anxiety would threaten to overwhelm her.
Ryewhisper nodded in understanding. He turned his nose to Crowflight and asked,“Crowflight, would you take the catmint over to ThunderClan? After we deliver this to camp, of course...”
Crowflight nodded. “Of course, Ryewhisper,” he mewed. His heart skipped a beat at the idea of seeing Shadepaw again. To Mothwing, he promised, “I’ll give over your message.”
Again, Mothwing mewed, her eyes shining, “Thank you!”
Ryewhisper picked up the catmint, and Crowflight took the borage in his jaws. He was thankful that he wasn’t carrying the catmint yet – he didn’t want to be blinking water out of his eyes all the way the camp with that intense smell. Borage was bad enough as it was.
Together they left the medicine cats den, the willow branches dragging along their back as if they were saying farewell.
“Mothwing was able to help, I take it?” Tawnypelt called from across camp. She was still beside Leopardstar, the two she-cats sharing tongues. Leopardstar regarded them with a narrowed gaze, but seemed happy with letting Tawnypelt handle things.
Ryewhisper only nodded in response.
“Falcontail!” Tawnypelt yowled, “Take them back to their border – then get on with hunting!”
Falcontail was off in his own little part of camp, with Duskwhisker. The two had clearly been talking about something, their muzzles moving until Tawnypelt’s orders came from across the clearing.
Falcontail got to his paws and nodded to his deputy. “Of course, Tawnypelt!” he called back.
They met in the center of the clearing, and Falcontail led them all the way to the camp entrance. Crowflight tried to catch Duskwhisker’s eye, curious as to what she and the RiverClan cat had to talk about; but the black she-cat avoided him as if she were focused very intensely on something else.
Crowflight frowned, but he couldn’t say anything with his mouth full of herbs. As they left the RiverClan camp, leaped the stream, and headed out into their open territory, Crowflight noted that Duskwhisker was always just far enough away from Crowflight that she wouldn’t notice if he tried to catch her attention.
Crowflight, however, had seen that all the way to the border Duskwhisker would glance at Falcontail, then look away, as if she were worried he might catch her doing it.
Concern crawled up Crowflight’s pelt. I’ve never seen her act like that. What in StarClan’s name did they have to even talk about? he wondered.
———————————————————
“Are you sure you don’t want some company?” Duskwhisker asked. “What if ThunderClan gives you trouble?”
Crowflight shook his head. “I’ll be alright – I know half of ThunderClan, remember?” His whiskers twitched, but Duskwhisker didn’t seem amused. “Besides, I won’t be gone long. If I’m not back before moonhigh you can start to worry.”
Duskwhisker’s ear twitched doubtfully, but to Crowflight’s relief she didn’t protest any further. The black she-cat gave a shrug, her shoulders lit orange by the early evening light.
“Alright,” she decided. “I’ll tell Ashfoot not to worry.”
Crowflight scoffed. “She’s worried since I took my first breath,” he pointed out. “Good luck with that!”
That got Duskwhisker purring with amusement. She turned and headed into camp, her tail disappearing into the gorse. Ryewhisper had already gone in, borage and catmint in his jaws and an excited look on his face at his success.
Crowflight picked up the remainder of the catmint by the little tendril of grass that held it all together. According to Ryewhisper, Mothwing had given away enough to ease both Clans into leafbare. Crowflight hoped it would be sufficient for the season – all of this traveling back and forth was cold work.
He trotted across the Golden Hills briskly, conserving his energy in case he needed to flee some threat or another – those foxes were still an unknown around here - but the evening was quiet, cold, and still, a nearly full moon cresting over the trees and stars dappling the sky.
The Gathering is soon, Crowflight thought, glancing at the moon. Our first by the lake.
He wondered what it would be like, seeing all those cats from the other Clans in one spot again. Would the friendships made on the Great Journey last beyond the borders that would be set in stone that night? Or were the Clans all firmly back in their old ways, separate entities but for one night every moon?
The forest was up ahead, and Crowflight passed over the new border with admittedly little thought. No patrol would be coming by at this hour, and he doubted he would be outright attacked with a packet of herbs in his jaws.
Things should go back to normal once the boundaries are set, Crowflight figured, dodging around roots and bushes as they sprung up in his path. He breathed in the smells of the woodland and wondered once again whether or not it was truly worth a pawful of tansy.
He tried not to think about his own Clan’s troubles as he crossed the tree-bridge and entered the heart of ThunderClan’s new territory. He focused instead on putting his paws to the ThunderClan trails, not wanting to get lost in the dark. The forest looked completely different, the oaks towering ominously above his head, their leafless branches rattling in the cold air.
The snap of a twig made Crowflight draw up and stop. He set down his herb packet to clear his nose of its sharp scent, but before he could properly draw air over his tongue, two white-patched shapes appeared from the darkness – Brightheart, and Sun.
“Crowflight!” Sun purred. The ginger-and-white she-cat moved to greet him, but Brightheart threw her a stern look and she halted mid-step.
“Hello,” Crowflight mewed back, guarding his tone. He was happy to see the once-Tribe she-cat, too; but to be so outwardly friendly so deep in another Clan’s territory just seemed so wrong.
“You’re deep in our territory,” Brightheart meowed, taking a cautious step forward. Her eye bored into Crowflight, as if trying to guess his intent. “Too deep to be lost.”
Crowflight nodded. “I’m here with a delivery from Mothwing,” he mewed. Quickly, gesturing to the catmint at his paws, he explained the RiverClan medicine cat’s intent.
Sun sniffed at the herb packet, then looked up. “How generous of her!” she decided, curling her tail. “In the mountains, such a gift would be greatly treasured! We had no neighbors with which to share herbs...”
Brightheart had no such wonderment in her eyes. She only nodded to Crowflight and mewed crisply, “Bring it, then.”
Crowflight picked up the packet and followed Brightheart as she trotted along the hunting trail, her tail up. Sun was a pace behind, boxing Crowflight in between them effectively.
He was escorted to the tightly-woven wall of thorns that signaled ThunderClan’s camp, and led through the prickly tunnel inside. At night, the shadows of the stone hollow’s walls cast long over the sandy clearing, covering almost the entire camp in darkness. Crowflight could see the eyes of many cats flashing in the gloom, each one pinned on him as he stepped into their home for the second time.
“What’s this?” grunted Swiftfoot. “He’s back again?” The black-and-white tom pulled himself out of where Crowflight presumed was the warrior’s den, his stump of a tail lashing.
“He just has a delivery for Brackenfur,” Brightheart mewed to her mate, her tone soothing. “Then he’ll be on his way.” She glanced at Crowflight as if to say, get a move on already.
Crowflight was eager to get out from under Swiftfoot’s gaze. In the darkness, the scarred warrior looked terrifying.
He remembered where the medicine cat den was from before, but he didn’t have to step inside. Brackenfur and Shadepaw both emerged from the bramble walls, meeting him just outside as the commotion from the camp reached them even in their stony cave.
“Is that catmint?” Shadepaw wondered, leaning forward for a sniff.
Crowflight put the bundle at Brackenfur’s paws, dipping his head respectfully. “It is,” he answered. “A gift from Mothwing.”
“How kind,” Brackenfur sighed. There was a look of some relief in his eye. “We’ve been scouring our territory for this...” He peered at Crowflight, his expression turning serious. “Are things alright in WindClan? Not more whitecough, I hope?”
Crowflight, for a moment, was confused – but then he recalled that he hadn’t explained the full story: “No, no more whitecough,” he insisted. “Whitetail is well. Robinwing is expecting kits, though, and we were asked to fetch borage. Mothwing had some, but she also had some catmint, too, and chose to share with the both of us – and give her thanks for having Shadepaw help her out on the journey.”
“We’ll need to thank her at the next Gathering, then,” Brackenfur decided. “It’s a blessing from StarClan that she was able to find any, given how cold it’s been...”
Crowflight’s ear twitched. He glanced at Shadepaw, who was staring at him with a grateful expression. The shine of her eyes in the moonlight made Crowflight’s pelt shiver.
“I should be going,” Crowflight meowed, dipping his head again. “I promised my Clan I would return before moonhigh.”
“I can escort you to the border,” Shadepaw offered, getting to her paws. “We’ve learned all the quick ways through the forest, you know, and some ridges can leave you with a nasty sprain if you miss them...”
Crowflight frowned, glancing at Brackenfur. His heart had leapt into his throat at the idea of Shadepaw coming with him, but would he be all right with that? The intense way the golden-brown tom was studying them both made Crowflight’s ears throb.
“Go on,” Brackenfur decided, his tone even. “But don’t take too long yourself.”
“I won’t,” Shadepaw promised. “It’s too cold to linger anywhere.” She dipped her head in thanks to Brackenfur, then brushed past Crowflight. “Come on, let’s get going!”
Crowflight didn’t need to be told twice. He was aware of every eye in ThunderClan on him as he left. If I’m sent here a third time, I’m going to be flayed, I think, he thought as he emerged from the thorn tunnel.
Still, he was grateful that he hadn’t needed to stay long. The last thing he’d wanted was to be stopped by Tinystar or any of the senior warriors. He didn’t want to be the cause of some conflict between their Clans, not right now.
Out in the quiet of the forest, Crowflight’s fur lay flatter. He walked beside Shadepaw, who was moving at a brisk pace.
“Where were Mistyfoot and Nightfrost?” Crowflight wondered idly. “I didn’t see them in camp.”
“They’re out hunting near the ShadowClan border,” Shadepaw answered, her tone clipped. “They hunt together a lot, lately.”
“Oh?” Crowflight glanced at Shadepaw. “Are they...?”
Shadepaw sighed. “I don’t know,” she admitted. Her tail curled. “Nightfrost has always looked up to Mistyfoot, you know, and maybe there’s more to it than that, but... I just can’t see Mistyfoot going for it, so soon after Stormfur.”
Crowflight’s stomach clenched. “Yeah,” he agreed. Shadepaw and her brother were very close, Crowflight knew; maybe she wasn’t so happy to see him padding after Mistyfoot?
He wanted to talk more about it, but he wasn’t sure if Shadepaw was comfortable with that, and if any other ThunderClan cats were lurking around the forest, they wouldn’t appreciate overhearing any discussions of Mistyfoot’s relationship with Stormfur, a RiverClan cat.
How long is Mistyfoot meant to be alone, though? Crowflight wondered. He glanced at the stars, wondering if Stormfur was watching. I don’t think Stormfur would expect her to keep to herself until she walks in StarClan... and there are worse cats in ThunderClan than Nightfrost, certainly!
Either way, he figured it wasn’t any of his business. He focused himself instead on following Shadepaw. Normally, he supposed any good warrior ought to be committing the paths through enemy territory to memory, just in case; but he couldn’t focus on that, not with Shadepaw right beside him.
“So, how are things in WindClan?” Shadepaw asked.
“Fine,” Crowflight responded.
“Uh-huh,” Shadepaw mewed, her eyes flashing skeptically. “Sure.”
Crowflight’s shoulders bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Shadepaw side-eyed him. “I was in your camp when Onewhisker shifted the border, remember? Things are obviously not okay over there!”
“It’s not your business,” Crowflight warned, his tail flicking to and fro.
Shadepaw sighed again. “I know,” she admitted, “but I’m worried about y-er, about my vision.”
Crowflight’s heart skipped at what she had almost said – but he chose to leave it where she did. “Did you tell Brackenfur about it?” Crowflight wondered.
Shadepaw was silent for a moment. Crowflight’s heart pounded in his ears. What if ThunderClan really was trying to drive a wedge into WindClan, at the behest of Shadepaw’s vision? He stared at the tortoiseshell, fright chilling his pelt colder than any leafbare wind.
Oh please, oh StarClan, he prayed. Don’t let it be so!
“The last time I had a vision, Brackenfur didn’t believe me,” Shadepaw explained, after that agonizing moment. She looked up, into Crowflight’s eyes. “So, no; I didn’t tell him, or anyone. Just you.”
Crowflight exhaled, his breath puffing before his eyes as the muscles of his shoulders relaxed.
Shadepaw’s tail twisted, touching his. “I am rightfully worried,” she mewed, quietly. “Mouse-brain.”
They walked to the river together, crossing the tree-bride tail-to-nose. On the other side, Crowflight expected Shadepaw to leave him there, but she followed him right to the new border, like she had said.
The two sat in the quiet of the night for a time, staring at one another, neither seeming to want to say good-bye just yet. Crowflight was aware of the moon creeping across the sky, of frost forming on the grass; but it meant nothing, not when he was looking down into Shadepaw’s brilliant amber eyes.
“It’s not okay, in WindClan,” Crowflight admitted, his tone hushed. “Mudclaw is using every angle he can to get under Onewhisker’s pelt, and Onewhisker is... he’s not handling leadership all that well. He’s not good at it, yet. They fight all the time, in such petty, rabbit-brained ways. The entire Clan is on edge.”
Shadepaw sighed, and she leaned into him. “I’m so sorry, Crowflight,” she whispered. “My vision...”
“It won’t come true,” he insisted, digging his claws into the earth. “We’ll figure it out. Once Onewhisker gets his lives and his name... No cat can question him, then, right?”
Shadepaw blinked up at him. “Right,” she agreed. Crowflight forced himself to ignore the doubt in her gaze.
The air felt thick, buzzing in Crowflight’s ears. He had to believe that. He had to, or WindClan would split apart and the Clan would collapse in on itself, like in Shadepaw’s vision. An event so cataclysmic the earth itself might move.
He wanted nothing more than to be away from it all.
“I miss you, Shadepaw,” Crowflight breathed, the words tumbling out of his jaws.
Shadepaw’s eyes widened. Crowflight’s heart was in his throat, and he wanted to flee and leap into the lake to soothe his burning pelt. Rabbit-brain! he told himself. Of all the most foolish things to say...
“I miss you, too,” Shadepaw murmured.
Her tone was sweet and quiet, and it sent a tremor up Crowflight’s spine – but it was nothing compared to the way she leaned forward and touched her muzzle to his. He pressed close, breathing in her scent.
This is wrong, some part of his mind screamed. The journey is over! You’re WindClan, now and forever!
“I need to go,” Crowflight rasped. His legs felt stiff, rebellious. He could barely pull himself away from her.
“I know,” Shadepaw meowed. She ran her head against his jaw, purring, as if she could sense his reluctance to go. “I’ll see you at the Gathering, okay?”
“Yeah.”
And then she was gone. Crowflight stared after her, dazed, his nose filled with her scent and his fur tingling from her presence as he watched her dappled pelt disappear into the dark shadows of the forest. He sighed, happy, but longing to have kept that moment for longer.
He stepped over the border, and saw Duskwhisker there, a lean shadow at the top of the closest hill.