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Crowflight stared at Duskwhisker, and Duskwhisker stared at Crowflight.

The haze of Shadepaw’s comforting presence had been snatched away so suddenly that Crowflight wasn’t sure how to breathe, for a moment. His heart thudded in his ears, and his mind was whirling so frantically that he couldn’t pin down a thought if it meant stopping Duskwhisker from tearing out his throat, right then and there.

The moon hung in the sky over their heads, turning both of their dark pelts to silver. Frosty breaths billowed from their noses, and the cold air was slowly creeping over the grass around them like chilling spiderwebs. The cold filled in that once-warm place in Crowflight, freezing his limbs in place despite wanting nothing more than to flee.

Finally, Duskwhisker spoke, her voice taut: “What in StarClan’s name was that?”

Crowflight blinked. “I...” He grappled for something, anything, to assuage his friend; to make this better, somehow. He managed, “We were just saying good-bye.”

Duskwhisker blinked at him, clearly not believing that.

“I’m not lying,” Crowflight growled. Frustration flashed hot between his shoulders. “That’s all we were doing!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Duskwhisker snapped. Her steps were stiff as she padded down the slope, meeting Crowflight almost muzzle to muzzle. Her eyes were sharp as claws, glowing like flames. “Because that’s just how two friends say good-bye these days, hm?”

Crowflight curled his lip. “What are you insinuating?” he demanded.

Duskwhisker’s tail lashed. “WindClan is in enough trouble as it is without you padding after ThunderClan’s medicine cat.” Her voice was harsh, like the sting of a wasp.

Crowflight’s fur bushed, heat rushing through his skin as if it were suddenly the middle of greenleaf, not the cold reality of leafbare. He dug his claws into the freezing earth.

“It’s not like that!” he insisted. “Not at all!”

Duskwhisker’s eyes flashed, like the frosty stars that hung above. She hissed, “Who do you think I am, Crowflight? Some fluff-brained kitten that just opened their eyes?”

Crowflight felt the fur along his spine rising, now. “It’s not like that!” He repeated, his tone grating against his throat. “We’re just friends – we've been through a lot together, you know that!”

Duskwhisker’s gaze burned into his. “Lie to me all you like, Crowflight, but don’t you dare lie to yourself.”

Crowflight bit his tongue. Her words stung like claws, and he wasn’t sure how to respond. His stomach churned, his pelt going from hot to cold and then to hot again as his mind grappled with what Duskwhisker had said.

It was no use arguing with her. She had seen what she had seen, and even if it wasn’t (it wasn’t, it couldn’t be) what she was thinking, the rest of WindClan would be far more inclined to take her side than his.

“You’re going to tell the Clan, then?” he guessed. “Tell them I’m disloyal? A traitor?” It wouldn’t be much of a stretch, Crowflight thought somberly – after all, he had been the one to leave his Clan to travel with cats from other Clans, even if it had been for WindClan’s sake. There was more than one of his Clanmates that had looked at him with distrust when he’d come back from that first journey.

To his surprise, though, Duskwhisker’s intense gaze softened, and she sighed. “No,” she said, her shoulders relaxing. “I’m not. You’re my friend, Crowflight – I just want you to be careful, that’s all.”

Crowflight stared at her. “Really?” he asked, dumbfounded.

Duskwhisker’s gaze turned intense again. “Really.” She repeated, as if she were scolding a kit. “Don’t make me regret it, fluff-brain. You listened to me complain about Smokewillow and you put up with me badgering you, and you brought us here. That’s worth a little goodwill... to a point.”

“To a point,” Crowflight repeated, uncertainty making him clench his claws into the dirt.

Duskwhisker narrowed her gaze. “You’re my friend, Crowflight, but I’m not going to fight two whole Clans for you.” She nodded to the woods, over the border. “Whatever this is – whatever you think this is – it's going to cause trouble, sooner or later. As your friend I’m telling you, again, to be careful.”

“There’s nothing to ‘be careful’ about,” Crowflight told her. He swallowed around a lump in his throat as he stared Duskwhisker in the eye. Self-hatred unfurled its wings in his belly. “Some friendships are hard to let go of, that’s all.”

Duskwhisker twitched her whiskers. “Sure, they are,” she muttered. Her narrowed gaze was skeptical. “Sure.”

The black she-cat turned away, then; her shoulders lit silver by the moon as she ended this conversation with her body. “Come on,” she meowed. “We’ve got somewhere to be.”

Crowflight tilted his head, confusion chasing away the tense emotions of just heartbeats ago. “Where?” he wondered.

“Just follow me, fluff-brain.”

———————————————————

Cold gripped the moorland as Crowflight trudged after Duskwhisker. She was hurrying, which Crowflight was grateful for, but she wasn’t answering the question that was most prominent on his mind.

His paws stung. “You’ve spent half the night calling me a fluff-brain,” he mewed, breath fogging before his nose, “but you’re the one dragging me around in the middle of night in leafbare. This had better be worth it if I catch greencough!”

Duskwhisker turned her muzzle over her shoulder. “It will be,” she insisted. “Now hurry up!”

Crowflight suppressed a growl of frustration, but his annoyance faded as the rowan tree appeared just over the crest of the hill they had been climbing. Almost home, he thought. After trekking halfway around the lake and then some, curling up in his nest and sleeping till sunhigh sounded like a dream come true.

But instead of heading right for the camp entrance, Duskwhisker tilted their direction – now, they were heading for the tall boulder that stuck up from the hill, the place where the two of them had spoken about Smokewillow earlier in the day. Crowflight wanted to ask why, as they passed beneath its shadow, they were going this way instead of right into camp, but he kept his jaws shut.

They came around the big hill, until they were in the shadow of the rowan’s branches. Moonlight turned the entire tree to silver, its branches bright white claws touching the stars. Crowflight pulled up, stopping in surprise – most of WindClan was there, gathered in the thin shadows, and, standing beside Tallstar’s grave, at the head of them all, was Mudclaw.

At the sight of Duskwhisker and Crowflight, Mudclaw nodded. “Good,” he mewed, “we can begin.”

Crowflight cautiously stepped into the crowd. He counted the pricked ears, outlined in silver light, and realized that this was his entire Clan, even Whitetail, who looked a lot healthier than she had in days – notably missing though were Robinwing, the apprentices, the medicine cats, Ashfoot, and, most concerning of all, Onewhisker.

Scratching behind his ear, Tornear complained, “What’s all this for, Mudclaw? It’s freezing out here!”

“Yeah,” muttered Webfoot beside him. “Not all of us have our leafbare fur in!”

“I’ve got dawn patrol,” sighed Emberstep. “Get on with it!”

“I promise I won’t keep you too late,” Mudclaw meowed, his tone cordial.

Crowflight settled in beside Duskwhisker, casting her a questioning glance. The entire atmosphere seemed off, secretive and clandestine in a way that made Crowflight’s fur crawl in an ominous sort of way. This felt far more like something ShadowClan would do, not WindClan!

Duskwhisker offered him no answers, however – she looked up at Mudclaw with shining, expectant eyes.

Mudclaw scanned the crowd and began to speak: “Each and every one of us is a loyal WindClan warrior, down to our bones, are we not?”

“Of course we are!” yowled Tornear. He looked impatient, offended. “Mudclaw, what are you playing at? Get to the point!”

“Fine. Why are we allowing ThunderClan to dictate WindClan’s path in this new land?” Mudclaw demanded, his gaze sharpening. Before any cat could respond, he swept on: “First, they manipulate Tallstar into a friendship between our two Clans, and then they influence him to choose Onewhisker to be leader. Now, they take our territory without a hint of protest! What comes next?”

“You can’t prove that it was ThunderClan that influenced Tallstar,” Smokewillow pointed out. His head glowed silver in the moonlight. “I might agree with you through all the rest, Mudclaw, but we don’t know what went on when Tallstar died.”

“Yeah, we don’t!” Duskwhisker hopped to her paws, her voice rising above her Clanmate’s. “Not even Barkface was allowed to hear Tallstar’s last words. Doesn’t that seem odd to any of you?” Her eyes blazed against her shadowy coat and Crowflight wanted to shrink at the sharpness of her tone.

Smokewillow’s ear twitched. “I mean...” he trailed off, looking down at his paws uncertainly.

“ThunderClan has never meant us any harm before,” Whitetail mewed, raising her chin confidently. “I can’t count on one paw how many times they’ve helped us!”

Mudclaw’s gaze leveled on the white she-cat. “Did we really need their help, though? Can we not defend ourselves?”

“When we were driven out of our home, back in the old forest, only ThunderClan thought to come find us,” Webfoot pointed out. “Without their aid, we might not even be here right now! The other Clans were ready to split our territory up for themselves!”

Bolstered by her Clanmate, Whitetail carried on: “And when LionClan and BloodClan threatened us, it was ThunderClan that stood by our side through it all! We could never have faced those challenges ourselves, no matter how strong we were then or now!”

Crowflight felt his discomfort grow. Whitetail and Webfoot were right, certainly, but...

Mudclaw’s tail waved. “Fringe cases,” he determined. “In times such as those, no Clan could’ve stood alone. I’m talking here about the little things; the herb-trading, the warnings of battles to come, the leniency on accidental prey-theft or border crossings. ThunderClan has treated WindClan territory as if it were their own for seasons, always pressing our every boundary, all while patronizing us at every turn, as if we were each still kits at our mother’s belly!”

“Tallstar and Tinystar’s friendship led to a peace WindClan hasn’t known for ages,” Whitetail meowed, her voice hard. “I don’t think you’re being fair.”

“Answer me this, Whitetail,” Mudclaw growled, “why were neither Barkface nor Ryewhisper allowed to see Tallstar before his death? Who prevented them from hearing our leader’s last words?”

Crowflight felt his whiskers tremble. Cats all around fell silent, all eyes on Whitetail for her response. The white she-cat's eyes narrowed to slits.

“It was Tallstar,” Whitetail responded. For the first time, her tone seemed to falter. Her pale muzzle lowered. “I think – no one was allowed anywhere near the nest at the time.”

“Couldn’t it have been Tinystar? Or Mistyfoot?” Mudclaw reasoned, pressing the senior warrior. “Onewhisker, even?”

Whitetail bristled again, lashing her tail. “That’s not-”

Mudclaw raised his muzzle. “Tallstar’s mind was not all his own when he was dying,” he called to the crowd. “I say it could have been very easy for Tinystar or Mistyfoot to manipulate him into changing his mind in his last moments!”

Crowflight bristled, now, unable to keep silent. “Say what you like about Tinystar,” he yowled, heart thudding in his ears, “but I know Mistyfoot better than any cat here – she would never agree to do anything like that!”

Mudclaw’s eyes narrowed on him, now, pinning him like a hawk. “And what if she were offered deputyship of ThunderClan?”

“She’s not deputy of ThunderClan, though,” Crowflight snapped back, quick as a snake. “Even if she were the type of cat to fall for something like that – and she’s not - she didn’t get what she was promised, anyway! What would the point of that be?”

Though deputyship was Mistyfoot’s desire, he still couldn’t imagine her doing something so manipulative. He was confident in his words to the ends of his whiskers, but that didn’t stop a little flicker of doubt from forming in his mind. What if he was wrong?

I can’t be wrong, Crowflight thought firmly. He felt the eyes of his Clanmates on him. If I falter, they’ll pounce on it.

Mudclaw’s lip curled. “You didn’t know her mother, Crowflight. Trust me – the berry did not fall far from the bush.”

A flame lit in Crowflight’s chest. “Mistyfoot is nothing like Bluestar!” he roared. He was bristling from ears to tail, his claws sinking into the earth. All sense of cold and uncertainty had fled in the wake of his anger on behalf of his friend. How dare he!

It seemed, though, that Crowflight was the only one so certain – Mudclaw's words had given the rest of WindClan pause, even causing Whitetail to step back and wrap her tail around her paws, worry clouding her gaze.

“Mistyfoot led us all here, you crow-hearts!” Crowflight spat, baring his teeth. “Do you all really think so little of that?” He glared at his Clanmates, and found that none met his gaze, not even Duskwhisker. He turned his stare to Mudclaw, daring him to keep speaking.

Mudclaw frowned deeply, his eyes glittering. “I’ll concede that I may have gone too far, there,” he admitted. “Mistyfoot might’ve been coerced, might not have. Maybe her reward awaits when Onewhisker gets his nine lives – only StarClan knows for sure.”

Crowflight dug his claws into the earth, frustrated. There was clearly no convincing Mudclaw of anything, not when he held all the power in this scenario.

“So... what’s the point of this, then?” Webfoot asked, a tremor in his voice. “Why gather us all here?”

“Because we as a Clan have a decision to make,” Mudclaw growled. “A decision that, if we do not make it as one, WindClan will divide and die for.”

Whitetail’s mew was grim and certain: “You want to depose Onewhisker.”

Mudclaw blinked at her, slowly, and then nodded. He meowed, “From the moment of his appointment, Onewhisker has proven he is not the leader that WindClan needs. With the proof of his appointment lying in the paws of cats who have little incentive to tell the truth, and no precedent in the warrior code for such a situation... it falls to us.”

A ripple of unease flowed through the crowd. Crowflight stared up at Mudclaw, his anger giving way to a numb sort of shock – he'd known that Mudclaw was unhappy with being forced to give up his position, he’d known that something bad would probably come of it... but he didn’t think it would be this soon. To be perfectly honest, Crowflight had thought that it would all fade away, given time – a bad memory in the minds of older generations, a cautionary tale to tell kits of the future.

But it wasn’t.

“So, what is it you want to do?” asked Tornear, his voice tense. His gaze wavered upon his Clanmate. “K-Kill Onewhisker?”

Mudclaw’s eyes widened, and the crowd murmured in shock. “Of course not!” Mudclaw hissed over their worried voices. “Never! But he must be made to see that he is not meant for this position!”

“And who would take his place?” Whitetail wondered, her tail twisting. “You?”

Mudclaw hesitated, and then shrugged. “Possibly. If StarClan wills it. I was the rightfully-appointed deputy before.”

“So, you go through all this just to say that you want the power for yourself?” Whitetail rose to her paws, lashing her tail. She glared at her Clanmates. “I don’t know about you, but I’m done here, and you should all think about heading to your nests yourselves.”

The small white she-cat stomped off, then, parting from the crowd with a huff. Webfoot rolled his eyes and joined her, complaining, “Lot of talk, no real solutions...” A moment later, Tornear followed, his pawsteps hesitant as he gave Mudclaw one final glance before he left, too.

Crowflight’s heart beat in his eyes. Should he go with them? He stared after Tornear as the tabby warrior’s tail whisked away behind the hillside. If he left, though, who would listen to the rest of what Mudclaw had to say? Who would know what he might plan?

It seemed that those three were the only ones certain about their opinions. Poppyfoot looked unsure, but she didn’t budge, the same as Bramblefur beside her. Smokewillow stared down at his paws, clearly conflicted. The rest, however, looked fully ready to listen to Mudclaw’s every word, and that sent a chill down Crowflight’s spine – that's nearly half of WindClan agreeing with him!

“It’s true, I haven't much of a plan, yet,” Mudclaw meowed, looking down at the cats that remained. “But it won’t be long. I’ll be sure to let you all know when I’ve thought of something. We’ll bring our plan to Ashfoot and the medicine cats, and we can go from there.”

“What if they don’t agree?” asked Bramblefur, her eyes wide.

Mudclaw’s eyes flashed. “We’ll face that foe when we come to it. Get to your nests, all of you. There’s much to do in the days to come.”

The crowd parted, then, clustering up into uncertain groups as they padded away from the tree. Crowflight watched Mudclaw clamber down from the hillside, stalking towards he and Duskwhisker with purpose.

“I’m sorry for insulting your friend,” Mudclaw meowed, blinking at Crowflight. “I didn’t mean it to come off that way.”

Crowflight curled his lip. “Whatever,” he growled.

Mudclaw’s eyes flashed with annoyance at that, before he turned his muzzle to Duskwhisker. “Thank you for your help getting the others here tonight,” he told her. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Duskwhisker dipped her head. “Of course, Mudclaw.”

Mudclaw seemed to take that as the end of the conversation, stalking between the two cats and off into the night.

Crowflight glared at Duskwhisker. “You set this up?” he growled.

Duskwhisker licked her chest fur self-consciously. “He asked me to help,” she explained. “It’s hard to reach every cat in the Clan without things being revealed to those that don’t need to hear it yet.”

Crowflight frowned at her, something stinging his heart. He knew that she harbored doubts about Onewhisker, but he didn’t like that she had done this. She was right – this meeting would never have been able to happen if Onewhisker or Ashfoot or Barkface had caught wind, and Duskwhisker had kept the apprentices out of it, which Crowflight appreciated... but did it have to be her?

“Do you even know what you’re starting?” he hissed. “What this could do to WindClan?” Shadepaw’s dream pulsed in his mind – was this the beginning of that horrible omen? The thunder before the storm?

Duskwhisker frowned, lifting her chin. “I hope it will make us stronger, in the end. Able to stand on our own paws, with no other Clans pulling our whiskers. Isn’t that what you want, too?” Her gaze implored him.

“There’s nothing wrong with accepting help now and then,” Crowflight pointed out. “We wouldn’t have made it this far without the other Clans, that’s for sure.”

“Sure, sure,” Duskwhisker mewed, “but all the time, with the costs growing higher and higher? Count me out. I’m WindClan, and I don’t want to be anything else. I don’t think we should risk becoming anything else. In this new place, we can finally do that – show the other Clans that we’re strong, that we’ve always been strong.”

Her gaze grew hard. “I know where I stand, Crowflight – you need to figure out where you’re at, sooner rather than later.”

Duskwhisker loped off then, ending their conversation before Crowflight could respond. Crowflight stared after her, this cat that he had thought to be his friend. Was that the case, still? His mind buzzed. He had no idea, and he was too tired to try and sort through it all now.

He slunk off after her, tail dragging in the cold grass.

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