[TB] STARLIGHT -- Chapter 20 (Patreon)

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The entire camp exploded with noise.

All of Crowflight’s tiredness burned away in an instant, replaced with adrenaline as the cry came up again, but this time it was Smokewillow screaming into the night:

“Foxes! Foxes in the camp!”

“How in StarClan’s name?!” Duskwhisker hissed, scrambling to her paws, scattering half her nest in the process. The other warriors were scrambling, half-awake, into the clearing, their pelts littered with strands of bedding.

“Doesn’t matter!” Crowflight snapped back. “Come on!” Unsheathing his claws, he leaped out of the rain den.

His heart thudded in his ears as he took stock of the situation: The light of the waning moon shone down on the camp, turning every cat’s pelt to silver. The edges of the clearing were lined with cats, each standing shoulder to shoulder. Smokewillow was in front of the nursery, guarding it – and his mate – with his body. Barkface and Ryewhisper’s eyes shone from the dark recesses of their den.

In the center of the clearing paced the two foxes – they were large, thin, and, by the look in their eye, hungry and angry. There was a patch of destroyed camp wall behind them, opening the way to the moors outside.

For a long moment it seemed like they were all at a stalemate, the cats and the foxes locked in a staring contest, waiting to see who might make the first move. Crowflight wondered if the foxes had anticipated this many cats – maybe they would flee?

Then, one of the foxes laid their eyes upon the trio of apprentices. They barked to their comrade, and both narrowed snouts turned to the young cats.

They barked at the apprentices, but whatever they were saying was lost on Crowflight’s ears. I wish Midnight were here! he thought desperately. She understood fox!

Thistlepaw and Weaselpaw shared a glance, and then wailed as one. Thornpaw stepped in front of them both, her tail lashing and claws gleaming.

“You’ll have to get through me!” she declared, puffing out her pelt.

“Through all of us!” Mudclaw snarled, bounding down the hill to her side.

The foxes barked again, and then rushed.

Like a wave, the entire Clan surged. Crowflight flung himself at the nearest fox of the pair, digging his claws into their spine.

For a moment, he was back in the mountains, in the Cave of Rushing Water – the battle with Sharptooth played over in his mind. That monstrous cat-creature had been three or four times his size, but that hadn’t stopped him then; a simple fox was certainly not going to stop him now.

He dug his claws in until the fox squealed, leaving room for Duskwhisker to fasten her teeth into its leg. Tornear slammed into it from the opposite side, and Whitetail dug her claws into its flanks. Just a tail-length away, the other fox had drowned in another sea of cats, led by Ashfoot.

The fox beneath Crowflight writhed and screeched, desperately kicking and biting at any chance at freedom. Its jaws snapped just a whisker away from Tornear’s ear, threatening to take it off entirely. A lashing hind paw caught Whitetail in the gut, sending her skidding back – only to have her be replaced by Thornpaw, who dug her claws in even tighter.

Crowflight felt the fox begin to shake. He tightened his grip, then lunged, taking the fox’s scruff in his jaws. He bit down as hard as he dared – not letting go when the fox let out a baying wail, but not threatening to break its spine, either.

The fox shifted its stance, then, and Crowflight felt its spine hunch beneath his belly. Loosening his grip, Crowflight let the fox buck him off, landing far more gracefully on four paws than he would have had he resisted.

His target had chosen to slam itself into the earth to dislodge all its attackers, kicking out with its legs to keep any of the warriors from attacking its exposed belly.

“Back off!” Crowflight ordered. “Be careful!”

The others obeyed. As Crowflight approached, his body low and prepared to spring again, the fox was backing up, its beady eyes flickering to and fro. It was surrounded – Crowflight to its front, Duskwhisker and Whitetail to one side, Tornear and Thornpaw on the other. Together the cats pushed it back towards the broken barrier.

The fox didn’t want to leave. It lashed out with a paw at Thornpaw, but the young she-cat ducked in time. Tornear backed her up, catching the fox’s foreleg in his jaws and biting hard. The fox yelped, punished, and decided enough was enough – it turned and fled, tail between its legs.

Only one left, now, he thought, satisfied.

Turning about, Crowflight realized that this other fox was being far more aggressive than its partner – the rest of WindClan’s warriors, led by Ashfoot, were having a hard time pinning it down. Its jaws were lathered with foam and blood, and Crowflight spotted more than one wound on his Clanmates.

This one’s desperate! Alarm rang in his ears. If we’re not careful, it’ll take one of us down with it!

The fox made a move.

It lunged for Onewhisker, who could only hiss in defiance as he was bowled over onto his back. The fox’s jaws slavered as it aimed a bite straight for the WindClan leader’s throat.

Crowflight’s heart stopped. No!

A dark streak slammed into the fox before the killing blow was struck – Mudclaw had lunged forward, grasping the fox’s neck between his forelegs. Using all his weight, the dark tabby tom managed to pull the fox away from Onewhisker, falling into another flailing pile of teeth and claws himself.

“Mudclaw!” wailed Duskwhisker. “Stop!”

“What do we do?” screeched Bramblefur, her pelt fluffed to its ends. “What do we do?!”

Crowflight’s fur stood on end. He wasn’t sure what to do himself – getting too close to the fighting could lead to more than one of them being injured, and the distraction might cause Mudclaw to get even more hurt. No one was giving any orders – Onewhisker lay on the ground, stunned, eyes wide and lit with shock.

Finally, Ashfoot saw an opening. Heart in his throat, Crowflight watched his mother plunge into the fray. She grabbed the fox by its lashing tail and tugged it back, off of Mudclaw – but the fox wasn’t happy about that, not at all.

With a screech it whipped around and snapped at Ashfoot, catching her in the shoulder with its teeth. There was a huge gush of blood, and Ashfoot yowled in pain.

Fear coursed through Crowflight. With a screech of fury, he flung himself at the fox, seeing nothing but its jaws fastened into his mother’s shoulder and the blood spurting through the air.

Crowflight hit the fox with his body, the force of the impact knocking them both down into the churned slush. Crowflight found anything he could latch onto with tooth or claw and began to strike, nothing but red in his eyes and the pained wail of his mother deep in his ear fur.

Eventually, Crowflight became aware that the fox had stopped fighting back.

The adrenaline left him just as suddenly as it had come, and Crowflight felt his limbs turn to water. He tried to pull himself off of the fox, but slipped in the churned-up slush and fell onto his belly. His heartbeat was deafening, and his stomach turned – the thick smell of blood in the air made him want to retch.

“Hey, hey,” Duskwhisker’s mew seemed faint and far away, even though Crowflight felt her right by his side. She nudged him with her paws. “It’s okay, Ashfoot is okay! It’s done!”

“She’s... okay?” Crowflight responded blearily.

Duskwhisker nodded. Crowflight turned his eyes to his mother, who was struggling to get to her paws. Her shoulder was thick with blood, but she was breathing, and she looked over the dead fox at her son and her eyes shone with appreciation.

Crowflight sighed with relief, his entire body sagging.

Barkface and Ryewhisper pulled themselves out of their den, herbs in their jaws. Barkface made for Ashfoot immediately, pressing a thick wad of cobwebs into her shoulder. Ryewhisper continued on, slathering poultices and cobwebs wherever he needed to.

“You’re fine,” Ryewhisper determined after sniffing Crowflight’s pelt.

Crowflight lifted his head. “I am?”

Ryewhisper nodded. “Just tired, and bloody. Here’s some thyme for the shock...”

Crowflight lapped it up without a thought. Slowly, he felt his body returning to normal, and his head didn't seem as foggy. He managed to sit up and began to clean himself, with Duskwhisker’s help.

“You think that was the pair that was holed up outside our territory?” Webfoot wondered, his tail flicking.

“Possibly,” Whitetail agreed, her eyes troubled. “Even so...”

“How did this even happen?!” Bramblefur’s meow was high pitched, full of fear. Her gaze beseeched the Clan. “Foxes don’t attack camps!”

“You’re right, they don’t,” Barkface grunted, looking up from Ashfoot. “Something must have drawn them here.”

“Are you saying one of us did this?” Onewhisker wondered, getting to his paws. He had a nasty bite on his hind leg that Ryewhisper was trying to dab with a poultice. It seemed like he had finally grasped awareness of the situation.

“I don’t want to say it,” Barkface mewed, his gaze stern. “But Bramblefur is right – the foxes had to sense that they were outnumbered, but they came anyway. That means they must have come for something.”

Crowflight couldn’t help it. He glanced at Mudclaw, who had drawn himself up and off to the side, licking his wounds. It looked like he’d come away from saving Onewhisker with only a few scratches, which Crowflight considered quite lucky, with how angry the fox had been.

Did you do this? Crowflight wanted to ask it aloud, but he knew he couldn’t dare.

But why would Mudclaw lure foxes into camp and put every cat in danger? That just didn’t make any sense, not when Mudclaw’s complaints were that he wanted WindClan to be safe and stand on their own, with their own strength.

This only works if he wants a convenient way of getting rid of Onewhisker – but why do that only to save him? Crowflight’s head hurt. Unless he wanted to undermine Onewhisker again? But that only circled back onto itself – Mudclaw didn’t want to hurt anyone in WindClan, according to him. Crowflight still couldn’t imagine he was lying about that – besides, foxes weren’t exactly something a cat could hope to control.

“I-It was us.”

The voices were small but in the leafbare silence they seemed like screams. Thistlepaw and Weaselpaw padded up to Onewhisker, their heads bowed low.

Onewhisker raised a brow. “What’s this, now?” he wondered, looking confused.

The siblings glanced at one another, then Weaselpaw explained: “Thistlepaw said it was a bad idea, but I wanted to try looking for the Moonstone, i-in the woods outside our territory. We didn’t find it, but we did find-”

“Your catches!” Tornear breathed, lifting his head in realization.

Beside him, Webfoot flattened his ears and hissed, “You stole fresh-kill from the foxes, while we weren’t looking?!” The gray tom was bristling. “Are you both hare-brained? Have we taught you nothing?!”

Both apprentices flinched, cowering under the harsh, disappointed glares of their mentors. In the crowd, Softbreeze looked stunned, having just spent an entire day singing her sons’ praises to everyone who could listen.

“Be easy, Webfoot,” Onewhisker soothed. “Their intentions were good. Foolish, but good...”

Weaselpaw whimpered, “We’re sorry! We just wanted to help!” He trembled in the light of the moon. “Please, don’t stop us from becoming warriors!”

“We didn’t mean to hurt anyone!” Thistlepaw agreed, his tail wrapped tightly around his paws.

Crowflight couldn’t help but feel badly for the two apprentices – he could imagine what they were thinking, that finding the new Moonstone might get them and their denmate their warrior names, might mark them out as heroes to all the Clans...

Might stop the turmoil brewing in their own Clan.

Onewhisker stared down at the two apprentices. The entire Clan was looking at him, awaiting his next words. The brown tom took a deep breath, as if to steady himself.

“I can’t stop you from becoming warriors, because I cannot even properly name a warrior myself right now,” Onewhisker reasoned. Crowflight thought he sounded frustrated with himself.

Onewhisker meowed on: “You both did what you thought was for the good of the Clan - of all the Clans - but I cannot ignore that it was still a foolish decision. You disobeyed your mentors, and you brought danger onto your home.” He glanced at Ashfoot. “We’re lucky that no one was killed.”

Raising his chin, he announced, “As punishment, you two will spend the next two moons assisting Poppyfoot with whatever building tasks she has in mind, no matter how small. Not only that, but you will help Barkface and Ryewhisper with whatever they might need to heal our Clanmates after this incident. All of this alongside your normal duties, starting at sunup. Is that clear?”

“It is,” Thistlepaw murmured.

Weaselpaw, beside him, nodded.

Onewhisker sighed. “Good.”

Crowflight swallowed. Was that too harsh? It’s not my place to worry about that, he told himself. I’m not Clan leader, thank StarClan!

Both Thistlepaw and Weaselpaw slunk off, followed by their mother. If Softbreeze had stern words for her kits, Crowflight didn’t hear them. He laid his head on his paws, eyes blurry, too tired to care at the moment.

“Emberstep, Duskwhisker, go and bury the fox,” Onewhisker meowed, his voice sounding far away. “Make it deep, and as far away from camp as you can. Tornear, Smokewillow, back them up, just in case the other fox is out there...”

Crowflight shut his eyes.

“Good job,” Mudclaw’s voice touched his ear. “I told you that WindClan still needs you...”

———————————————————

“WindClan doesn't need this right now!”

Crowpaw hunched his shoulders, staring firmly down at his paws. He glared at the grass sticking up between them, wondering if it was dry enough now for just his eyes to start a fire.

Mudclaw was pacing, his pawsteps breaking the brittle stems. He was bristling all down his spine, his tail lashing back and forth. Angry, frustrated.

At me, Crowpaw thought. At himself.

“Are you even listening?” Mudclaw hissed.

Crowpaw, too focused on his own paws, missed the blow aimed at his head until it connected. Ear ringing, eyes stinging, Crowpaw had to finally lift his muzzle to meet Mudclaw’s blazing eyes. The brown tabby was at his full height, his claws tearing at the grass.

“What is even going on in your head?” Mudclaw demanded. “Is it all rabbit fluff up there or is there something, anything at all?!”

Crowpaw bristled defensively. “I did it for the Clan!” he snapped back. “The rabbits have all gone to ground in the heat, or the Twolegs are scaring them off - we’re starving!”

“You stole from another Clan!” Mudclaw snarled. “And more than that, you got caught!”

Crowpaw curled his lip.

“Now I have Tallstar breathing down my neck, wondering if I’m a fit mentor, even if I’m a fit deputy!” Mudclaw went on, seething. “Did you think it was funny, hearing that puny, arrogant Tinystar call us prey-thieves in front of the other Clans? Now Leopardstar thinks we’re going to steal her nasty fish! She might go back on her promise! All because you messed up!

Crowpaw flattened his ears.

Mudclaw huffed. “If this happens again, you can say good-bye to your warrior name,” he stated plainly. “I’ll make sure you’re stuck as an apprentice, forever scraping out the elder’s den since you can’t be trusted to bring back even a single piece of fresh-kill without bringing all of ThunderClan with you!”

Crowpaw’s eyes widened. “No way!” he breathed. It felt like his lungs were empty, suddenly. “You can’t do that! That’s not fair!”

“You’ve messed up one too many times,” Mudclaw said harshly. “I’ve kept you back in hopes that you might turn yourself around, but all it seems to me is that you’re determined to spit on your father’s legacy. If Deadfoot is looking down on you, I would guess he’s ashamed.”

Crowpaw bristled. The world spun, and he dug his claws into the dusty earth. “I, I...”

“I want you to think about it,” Mudclaw growled. “I want you to think about whether or not your behavior is what Deadfoot would have wanted from you. When you’re ready to be serious, come find me...”

Mudclaw disappeared into the wind.

Crowpaw felt his frustration bubble over. The wind blazed around him, hot and heavy, flattening the grass against the earth.

He didn’t even know who Deadfoot was! Everyone spoke about him as if he were the greatest hero that WindClan had ever known, but was that even true? Was that only for Crowpaw’s benefit, to make him feel less alone? To make Ashfoot feel better about losing her mate and their other kits - Crowflight’s littermates that hadn’t even seen a moon’s worth of life?

His mind flashed back to his dreams, days ago; seeing Deadfoot atop Longsight Rock, hearing his voice for the first time in his life. The stars had sparkled in the old deputy’s black coat, twinkling in his eyes as he spoke ominous words into Crowpaw’s ears.

“Meet them at midnight on the night of the new moon,” he had said. “Meet them, and make me proud, my son.”

How did one make a hero, a legend, proud?

Was that even possible?

Why was it his responsibility in the first place?

There was no answer.

The dream faded; the wind died. Crowpaw was Crowflight, and Crowflight wished for a much better dream than this.