[TB] STARLIGHT -- Chapter 22 (Patreon)

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Crowflight’s dreams took him beyond WindClan’s boundaries, over the Golden Hills and into the sweeping moorland beyond.

He was walking amidst the tall grass, feeling the stalks bush against his pelt. It was the height of greenleaf, heat heavy in the air, which was scented sweet with the smells of heather and fresh soil. The wind felt crisp and stirred his whiskers, tugging him along. There was a range of mountains so far in the distance that they were but a gray smudge, almost one with the clear sky.

Was that where he was heading? Crowflight didn’t know and didn’t much care. It felt like there wasn’t much to care about out here. His next meal was hours away and there was no one to tell him to patrol, to hunt, or that he wasn’t good enough to do anything.

The world outside of his borders was new and exciting, and the only thing he wished was that he wasn’t alone out here.

As if his dream intended to give him a solution, he spotted a dark shape making their way through the grass. With a twitch of his nose he scented a she-cat, but with the wind in this direction he couldn’t tell if he knew her or not. That dark pelt did bring a name to mind, though:

“Shadepaw?” he asked, his tone impossibly hopeful. “Shadepaw, is that you?”

His hopes were dashed as Duskwhisker raised her head above the grass. The sound of her voice, a scoff and a groan as one, was enough to jolt Crowflight awake:

“Shadepaw? Great StarClan, are you kidding me?”

Duskwhisker’s face was a whiskerlength from his own, her gaze boring down at him. There was amusement in her eye, Crowflight saw, but there was an urgency that drowned most of it out. Her paw was raised as if to prod him.

“You dream about her, too?” Duskwhisker hissed through her teeth. “You’re just hopeless, fluff-brain.”

Crowflight hissed, lashing out her with a paw. It was dark out, and freezing besides – he didn’t need Duskwhisker’s judgment, too! He puffed out his pelt and demanded quietly, conscious of his resting Clanmates, “What is it? I was sleeping!”

Duskwhisker’s whiskers twitched. “Yeah, I caught that,” she chuckled. Her tail flicked, a dark snake in the faint moonlight. “Come on. We’ve got to go.”

“Go where?” Crowflight asked. He judged the light outside. “It’s almost moonhigh in leafbare, Duskwhisker! I’m not freezing my tail off out there!”

She rolled her eyes. “Just come on, will you?”

Duskwhisker backed out of the den, and Crowflight knew she wouldn’t leave him alone. Crowflight carefully picked his way out of his nest and into the cold, regretting it immediately – there was a thin layer of snow on the ground, enough to chill his paws and crackle beneath his steps.

Crowflight threw Duskwhisker a glare. This had better be worth it! he thought, annoyance crawling in his fur. Whatever it is.

Duskwhisker glanced about the clearing and then nodded at Crowflight, a signal to follow. Crowflight did, keeping close, thankful that both their pelts were black as a starless sky. Even in the snow-lit night they’d be difficult to spot – but why were they trying to be sneaky at all? This was their own camp!

They crept along the gorse barrier until they reached the broken part, the place where the fox duo had busted through to get into camp. The damage was extensive, and Poppyfoot was still trying to repair it, even a day later – good materials were hard to find in leafbare, according to her.

The gap that was left was large enough for a cat to sneak through, and that’s exactly what Duskwhisker did, slipping through like a fish through water. On the other side she hissed, “Hurry up, fluff-brain!”

Crowflight rolled his eyes and squeezed through. He felt the gorse pulling at his pelt and hoped he hadn’t left any fur behind when he’d gotten to the other side. He would’ve turned to check, but Duskwhisker was hurrying him along the moment his paws hit the earth, pushing him with her shoulder to his flank.

“We’re going to be late,” she insisted. “Come on!”

“Late for what?” Crowflight hissed.

Duskwhisker didn’t answer. Stiffly, she trotted ahead, her tail low. Crowflight followed her away from camp, along a hunting trail towards the Verdant Hills.  Duskwhisker veered off the trail quickly, though, heading closer to the lake. Confused, Crowflight turned his paws after her.

The lake was still and quiet tonight, its waves gently lapping at the shore. Crowflight had to strain to hear the water. It reflected the starlight and the waning moon perfectly, and if Crowflight hadn’t known better he would’ve guessed he could have walked on its surface.

I wonder if it will freeze over? He thought. He didn’t know much about how water behaved, but some part of him doubted that the whole lake could fully freeze. It would be nice, though, to cross over to the other side...

There were a few dark shapes near the lakeshore, only noticeable by how they blotted out some of the stars on the water. Crowflight’s ears pricked. The moonlight had washed out most of their colors, but he knew the shapes of those ears – Those are WindClan cats!

Crowflight drew up to a halt. “What’s going on, Duskwhisker?” he demanded. “Tell me, or I won’t move another pawstep!”

Duskwhisker bristled with impatience. She stopped a few paces ahead, glaring back at him over her shoulder. There was that urgency again in her eyes. “Mudclaw’s called another meeting,” she admitted, “that’s all!”

“That’s all!” Crowflight scoffed. He flattened his ears. “You’re telling me that you still don’t see anything wrong with all this?”

Duskwhisker’s eyes narrowed. Her breath puffed before her muzzle as she responded, “Why do you think I brought you along?”

Crowflight swallowed, his anger suddenly giving way to confusion. His tail twisted like his own thoughts.

Duskwhisker explained before he worked up the nerve to ask: “I don’t think that Onewhisker was rightfully made WindClan’s leader. I agree with Mudclaw on that, and that something needs to be done for WindClan’s sake – but things have changed, and I need your support right now.”

“What’s changed?” Crowflight wondered. He drew closer to her, his heart thudding in his ears. “Are you okay?”

Duskwhisker hesitated. Her eyes flickered to the group of cats at the lakeshore and then back to Crowflight.

“Just... come with me,” she begged. “Please. Mudclaw already didn’t want you to come. He doesn’t think you’re on his side, not really. If you ask too many questions...”

Crowflight touched his nose to her ear, understanding. “I’m with you,” he promised. “Let’s go.”

He walked by Duskwhisker’s side as she made her way down the slope towards Mudclaw and his followers. As they drew closer, Crowflight began to recognize the other cats – there was Softbreeze and Emberfoot, neither of whom were a surprise to see, but also Tornear.

Crowflight felt a quiver of unease. Tornear had been against Mudclaw’s ideas at the last meeting, by Crowflight’s estimate – what had changed the old tom’s mind?

All eyes locked on the pair as they drew close. Mudclaw’s lip curled, and he took a step forward, his shoulders hunched.

“I told you not to bother bringing him,” he growled, eyes flashing.

Duskwhisker drew herself up, her chin high. “He wanted to come.”

Mudclaw’s scrutinous gaze swapped to Crowflight. “Is that so?” the older tom growled.

“It is,” Crowflight lied. It was surprisingly easy to lie – Duskwhisker needed him, after all. “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day, Mudclaw. Something needs to be done, before WindClan falls apart.”

It wasn’t a total lie: Mudclaw was right about one thing – Onewhisker's WindClan was disorganized, and that fault could lead to great danger for them all. Something had to be done, but Crowflight guessed he wasn’t about to like what Mudclaw thought that ‘something’ should be.

Mudclaw stared at him a moment longer. “Very well,” he drawled. “He comes.”

Beside him, Emberfoot and Softbreeze exchanged a glance. Tornear looked out of place and uncomfortable, and he asked, “So where are we going, exactly?”

Mudclaw swung his muzzle around. “You’ll see. Come on.”

Lifting his tail, Mudclaw took off, heading along the lakeshore towards the Horseplace. The others scrambled to follow. Duskwhisker and Crowflight joined up near the back, behind Tornear and Emberfoot.

“This had better be worth it,” grumbled Emberfoot. “My paws are freezing...”

“Same here,” Tornear agreed. “I’m getting too old for this sort of thing.”

Crowflight glanced at Duskwhisker, who was staring straight ahead. The others might not have recognized the trail they were following, but Crowflight could certainly put two whiskers together.

“We’re heading for the Arrival, aren’t we?” he guessed.

Duskwhisker frowned, and then nodded.

She didn’t say anything more, and Crowflight didn’t press. He didn’t want to cause any sort of commotion with the others, especially not Mudclaw, and he didn’t want to put Duskwhisker into a bad position. He walked beside her instead, his senses alert and his paws tingling with worry.

What was waiting for them at the Arrival?

It was moonhigh when they arrived at the stump where the leaders had taken to addressing the four Clans. It still smelled faintly of the last Gathering, the scents of the chosen warriors clinging to the cold earth. The area was empty now, though, with a whisker-thin sheet of unbroken snow proving that at the very least.

Here was where they stopped. Mudclaw drew up his tail to bring them to a halt, and then sat himself at the roots of the leader’s stump, his paws kneading in the frosty grass. Emberstep and Softbreeze spread out, eyes glinting cautiously, while Tornear settled down to clean a bit of stray bracken from his flank.

Duskwhisker sighed, and sat down. Crowflight lay beside her, concerned but unable to ask what was bothering her so much. She’d always seemed so invested in Mudclaw’s ideas before now – to the point where she seemed to be Mudclaw’s right paw in it all. What was making her hesitate?

It didn’t take long for the answer to arrive. In the cold air, the scent coming over the hill was unmistakable – RiverClan.

The fishy smell drew the attention of every cat. Crowflight felt Duskwhisker tense beside him, while Softbreeze unsheathed her claws with a hiss. Tornear bristled, getting on all fours, his tail lashing, and Emberstep slid into a defensive position beside Crowflight, her lip curled.

Mudclaw, however, meowed, loud and clear, “Hold your claws!”

Confusion rippled through every cat as Falcontail appeared, slipping through the long grass, his pelt shiny in the moonlight. Behind him was Blackclaw, one of RiverClan’s most senior warriors, and Leafwhisker, a cat that Crowflight had often saw hanging around the other two.

The three RiverClan warriors made their way down the low slope and drew to a halt before the WindClan cats, their pelts smooth. Blackclaw looked unnerved, but he made no move. Falcontail seemed in perfect control of his little patrol, and his gaze slid over each of the WindClan cats until he met Crowflight’s eye.

The surprise was clear. Crowflight felt a little satisfaction. Were you not expecting one of the chosen cats to come to... whatever this is?

“Speak, RiverClan,” Mudclaw snapped. “This had better not be a waste of our time...”

Falcontail quickly turned his muzzle to Mudclaw. “You’ve brought some loyal warriors, I see,” he meowed.

“There are more,” Mudclaw assured, raising his chin, “I’m certain of that.”

Falcontail was nodding along. “I’m sure,” he agreed. “They’re just too afraid to say anything, and who can blame them?”

Emberfoot and Tornear glanced at one another, confusion in their gaze. It was Emberstep who asked, “What’s all this about, Mudclaw? What’re they doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Falcontail wondered, tipping his head. When Emberstep didn’t answer, he meowed on, “I asked to meet with you, to show you all that you’re not the only ones who think something was wrong with the way that Tallstar transferred power in WindClan.”

“How is that any of your business?” Softbreeze hissed. The fur between her shoulders lifted. “This is WindClan’s problem - we don’t need RiverClan sticking their big snouts into it!”

Falcontail glanced at her, his pale eyes keen. “You’re not Clanborn, are you?” He didn’t wait for her to answer: “Problems in one Clan can swiftly become a problem for every Clan, you see. If, say, WindClan were taken over by a bad leader, then that leader might cause problems for the rest of us, be it through aggression or incompetence. And if that leader was even being manipulated by another Clan... Well, I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this. It would be very bad.”

Softbreeze narrowed her gaze. She looked to Mudclaw and meowed, “You’ve allied with this RiverClan cat?”

“Nothing is official,” Mudclaw insisted, drawing forward. He looked at the cats he’d gathered and explained, “Falcontail is sympathetic to our problems in WindClan. He has ideas, and I thought it best to hear him out.”

Crowflight curled his lip. “I’m sure he’s got ideas,” he growled. “Helping us out means WindClan would owe him a favor.”

Falcontail’s eyes flashed. “You’re sorely mistaken, Crowflight,” he mewed lightly. “I don’t want anything in return here. I just want peace in our new home, which you and your friends worked so hard to find for us. Surely you understand more than most that sometimes we need to rely on one another to face threats like this?”

Crowflight bit his tongue. He hated it to his bones that Falcontail was right. Speaking against him now would only make Crowflight look like a fool.

“So, we have supporters in RiverClan?” Tornear guessed. He looked confused, and cold besides. “Is that all we’re here to learn?”

“Not just RiverClan,” Falcontail offered. He flicked his tail at Leafwhisker, who nodded along as Falcontail mewed on, “There are some ShadowClan warriors who don’t like the idea of Onewhisker as leader, either.”

“Now why would ShadowClan care?” Softbreeze wondered. Her tone was sharp, cutting like claws: “I’m not Clanborn, you see, but even I can tell that they’re clear on the other side of the lake.”

“But who are their neighbors?” Falcontail asked.

Before any of the WindClan cats could, Blackclaw answered, “ThunderClan.”

Falcontail flicked his tail against his Clanmate’s shoulder. “Exactly!” he exclaimed. “ThunderClan. And whose leader was there to hear Tallstar’s very last words...?”

“ThunderClan’s,” Leafwhisker pointed out.

“Now, it seems to me that that means something, doesn’t it?” Falcontail queried. His powerful gaze entreated each cat, two bright, burning yellow suns. “Tallstar and Tinystar have been close for seasons. ThunderClan and WindClan have essentially been allies ever since he came to the forest! To me, his presence at Tallstar’s deathbed, while a sign of their great friendship, also served another purpose – to keep that alliance strong.”

Falcontail got to his paws and paced before the WindClan cats. His striped tail snaked through the air. “Some of you hold these same thoughts – that Tinystar conspired with Tallstar to have Onewhisker be the new leader of WindClan. Tinystar and Mudclaw have never really seen eye to eye, after all, and it’s known even in RiverClan that Tinystar and Onewhisker were very friendly...”

Crowflight bristled. “Tallstar wanted peace, Falcontail, he said so himself,” he hissed. “He would never have wanted to manipulate his Clanmates!”

“Perhaps,” Falcontail mused, “but Tallstar was also old, and dying. His mind was not all there, that’s no secret.” His pale gaze pierced into his audience. The world turned dark as clouds began to cover the waning moon. “The fact remains that no cat will ever know what really happened, not while it rests solely with ThunderClan and Onewhisker. For the safety of all four Clans, we deserve to know that truth, and if it will not come out...”

Falcontail paused, his gaze landing on Duskwhisker. “I was told of a ritual that WindClan cats do when great decisions need to be made – a casting of stones, I believe it’s called?” He turned his muzzle to Mudclaw. “If you call for one, make Onewhisker tell the truth...”

Mudclaw frowned. “A casting hasn’t been called in seasons,” he rumbled. “Not since Tallstar’s youth.”

Crowflight looked at Duskwhisker, horror crawling up his pelt as he recalled each time he’d seen the two of them together. You told him about the casting of stones? He wanted to yowl. How could you?

Yet he found he couldn’t be upset with her. Falcontail was talking circles around every cat here, his points sharp and considered. He knew what he was saying, what he was doing, and Crowflight could only wonder why it mattered to him at all. He knew the RiverClan tom was ambitious, but why was that stretching outside of his boundaries now? Did he truly only want peace?

Mudclaw’s eyes burned. “I thought of calling for one myself,” he meowed on, “but thought it too reckless. Now, though, it may be the only way...”

“If Onewhisker denies the call, that would only mean one thing,” Tornear murmured. Beside him, Emberfoot shivered. Softbreeze dug her claws into the soil, making a noise deep in her throat. Duskwhisker sighed, and leaned into Crowflight, whose head was spinning.

Mudclaw frowned. “I do not want bloodshed,” he told Falcontail. “I never have. But...”

“But if it comes to it,” Falcontail meowed, his tone sure and clear, “do not forget your allies in RiverClan and ShadowClan. We will fight beside you, for what is right. For peace.”

“For peace,” Mudclaw repeated.

Crowflight’s ears rang. He didn’t hear Falcontail say his good-byes, dipping his head to each cat in turn before turning away. Blackclaw and Leafwhisker followed him as he headed back towards RiverClan territory, their shapes shadows in the darkness.

“Are you sure about this?” whispered Softbreeze. She sounded scared. “Mudclaw?”

All eyes turned to the dark tabby. Crowflight’s heart was thudding in his chest, and it felt like there were claws in his stomach. With the sky so dark and the world so cold, it felt like an omen from StarClan. He wondered if the moorland would break beneath his paws and swallow him up.

Mudclaw’s shoulders were squared. “I will do what I have to do to make WindClan safe and whole,” he growled. He lifted his chin. “Come. There’s no time to waste.”

He stalked off, heading back towards the Verdant Moor. The others followed, shivering, their pawsteps stiff and the air filled with faint fear-scent. Crowflight nudged Duskwhisker to her paws, and walked with her as they took up the rear of the group.

“I didn’t think much of it,” Duskwhisker murmured, “when Falcontail wanted to talk to me. He asked so many questions I didn’t even realize what ones I was answering.”

“I know,” Crowflight rasped. “I’m sorry.”

Duskwhisker hung her head. “If something bad happens from all this, is it my fault?”

Crowflight frowned. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It might be, but Falcontail manipulated you – you can’t forget that.”

“He’s right, though,” Duskwhisker defended, her voice soft. “We need to know the truth.”

You don’t want to know the truth, Crowflight thought. He bit his tongue yet again. Revealing that he’d known all along that Onewhisker’s position was shaky would only cause them all to turn on him, Duskwhisker included, he wagered.

His gaze focused on Mudclaw instead. The tabby tom was striding powerfully through the moor grass, a purpose in his gait that made him seem like a young warrior again. Crowflight hoped the quiver in his tail could easily be attributed to the cold, not his nerves.

Oh StarClan, let everything turn out okay, he thought desperately. Please...