[TB] STARLIGHT -- Chapter 23 (Patreon)

<< INDEX || Chapter 22 || Chapter 23 || Chapter 24 || From the Beginning >>

Each step taken towards the camp was heavier than the last. Crowflight could barely feel the intense chill in the morning air over the sense of impending dread that clung to his pelt like balls of ice. Glancing at his Clanmates, he knew they felt the same – each one walked with their head down, the frames of their shoulders sharply drawn up against the wind.

Crowflight glanced at Duskwhisker. The black she-cat looked like she might be sick, even though this was something she had wanted from the start. Crowflight didn’t blame her for being so contradictory – she was worried, same as the rest of them.

“Why are we trusting this RiverClan cat?” Tornear hissed under his breath. “What does he know about WindClan affairs?”

“And who told him?” Emberstep wondered. Her eyes blazed. “He’s probably just trying to stir up trouble!”

Softbreeze bristled between them. “I wanted to claw his arrogant face off!” she huffed. “How dare he speak to me like that!”

Ahead, Mudclaw paused in his stride. The rest stopped awkwardly behind him, Crowflight included. Duskwhisker sighed as Mudclaw swung his muzzle back to his supporters and meowed sternly, “Enough.”

“But shouldn’t we consider what he wants from all this?” Softbreeze protested. Her eyes flashed in the dark. “He’s a RiverClan cat!”

“I don’t care what he wants,” Mudclaw growled stiffly. “He won’t be getting anything he wants – this is a WindClan matter, and WindClan will settle it. All Falcontail has done is push me to do what I should have done from the start of this whole farce.”

Crowflight suppressed a wince. Perhaps Mudclaw was right – if they’d settled this like WindClan cats from the start, with a casting of stones to determine their uncertain leadership, the whole thing might’ve felt a lot better. As it stood now, they were on their way to give the rest of their Clan a very bad morning.

And that’s only if Onewhisker cooperates and tells us the truth, Crowflight thought. If he doesn’t... His stomach turned. Surely Onewhisker wouldn’t be that rabbit-brained? But he’d hidden it all for this long already – that alone wasn’t a good sign.

“Come on,” Mudclaw mewed. “We’re almost home. It’ll be over before you know it, one way or another.”

His words didn’t seem to inspire much more confidence. Emberstep, Tornear, and Softbreeze nodded and ducked their heads again, their eyes still flashing with collective uncertainty. Duskwhisker still seemed swamped with guilt, and all Crowflight could do was push her on.

“It’ll be okay,” he told her. “It’s not your fault.”

Duskwhisker only grunted in response.

Crowflight’s spine prickled. He had no idea what to say to ease his friend – Falcontail had manipulated her, she knew that; yet Duskwhisker seemed to feel as if she was the one responsible for all this. It just wasn't like her to be so cowed.

“Are you really going to let that RiverClan slimeball win?” he coaxed. “Sure, he sweet-talked you, but didn’t you hear Mudclaw? This is still a WindClan matter.” Crowflight nudged Duskwhisker’s cheek with his nose. “We’re settling this our way, and that RiverClan cat is hare-brained to think we’re doing things the way he wants us to.”

That idea seemed to perk her up, just a little. She lifted his muzzle, and touched her nose to Crowflight’s. “Thanks,” she murmured.

“I might not agree with you on everything,” he whispered, his heart feeling lighter, “but you’re still my friend, Duskwhisker.”

She blinked appreciatively, and Crowflight felt something peculiar in his belly. Had he actually helped? He didn’t know, not really; but he certainly preferred seeing that spark of determination in Duskwhisker’s eye over her looking so dejected.

His triumph did not last long, unfortunately – soon enough the rattling branches of the rowan tree appeared in the cloudy gray sky, and the hills that sheltered WindClan’s camp passed into view. That the sight was so familiar now was lost in favor of renewed apprehension as the dark shape that sat upon Lakeview, Smokewillow, turned and spotted them.

Whatever he yowled, it was lost to the tossing wind – but the gray tom slid down the large boulder and hurried down the hill into camp.

“We’re expected,” Mudclaw growled. Squaring his shoulders, he looked back at his followers, his gaze intense. “Let me do the talking.”

Emberstep sighed, “We’re warriors, not kits. How much trouble can we really be in? It’s Onewhisker.”

Softbreeze scoffed in agreement, but Tornear had the sense to seem more concerned. There was no hint of regret in his eye, though, not that Crowflight could see. Duskwhisker pushed herself between the senior warrior and the two she-cats, head held high.

“We’re not going to let him bully us,” she declared. “Right?”

“Of course not!” Softbreeze agreed. Her whiskers twitched. “We deserve the truth!” Tornear nodded, looking more confident. Tails flicked up high, and eyes shone with resolve.

Crowflight wished for a moment that Duskwhisker had decided against riling them up. As Mudclaw led them into camp, the wind picked up more strength, howling between the rowan’s branches. He thought he heard a voice upon it, a warning of what was to come, and wondered if Tallstar was watching them.

If you are, Crowflight thought, I hope you’re not disappointed in us. In me.

They strode into camp and were met with their Clanmates, huddled together to keep warm in the wind. Most looked like they’d just woken up and were quite unhappy about that, and Robinwing was unwilling to do more than poke her head outside of the nursery. The apprentices were in their den, eyes gleaming from the dark, clearly sensing that they weren’t to interfere.

Onewhisker sat in the center of the clearing, wide awake with an expression as stormy as the sky above.

Whitetail, flanking her leader, looked satisfied as Mudclaw’s group filed in. “I told you I saw them sneak off!” she mewed.

“And here they are,” Onewhisker meowed, his tone on the edge of hardness.

“Here we are,” Mudclaw rasped, taking a step forward to meet him in the clearing.

Crowflight flattened his ears. Softbreeze, Emberstep, and Tornear had fanned out to face their Clanmates, Duskwhisker out front as if she were ready to lead a charge. Whitetail faced her on the opposite side, with Poppyfoot, Smokewillow, Bramblefur, and Webfoot. With Ashfoot stuck at the back of the camp, only able to watch from the medicine cat’s den with Barkface and Ryewhisper, and the apprentices cowering, Crowflight realized that the warriors were evenly split on both sides.

He met his mother’s gaze, and his horror deepened when she realized where in the crowd he was standing. Her expression looked hopeless, confused. Crowflight’s legs shook. She thinks I’m with Mudclaw!

… Am I?

Onewhisker seemed to be considering what to say as the encroaching dawn turned the clouds silver above. The rowan creaked in the howling wind behind him. His gaze glittered with disappointment as he considered each cat opposite him, and his tail-tip twitched against the frosty grass.

“This is a rather large hunting patrol,” Onewhisker considered, “and you’ve brought back no prey.”

“This wasn’t a hunting patrol,” Mudclaw meowed flatly. “You know that.”

Onewhisker’s eyes flashed. “I know,” he snapped. The fur along his shoulders bristled. “I should be grateful that you’re not bothering to lie to me, I suppose!” He hissed, his claws flexing. Crowflight saw his haunches tense. “If you weren’t hunting, Mudclaw, then what may I ask were all of you up to? What kind of warriors leave in the middle of the night and say nothing of it?”

“Warriors that are concerned about the state of their Clan,” Mudclaw answered. He drew his chin up, eyes blazing. A flake of snow fell in the silence between his words.

Only when Mudclaw was certain that he had every cat’s attention, and he did, did he go on, his voice powerful and loud: “Onewhisker, I call for a casting of stones!”

The entire Clan erupted into shocked mews. Beside Onewhisker, Whitetail bristled. Webfoot stared helplessly at Tornear, who met his friend’s gaze with a stern expression. Bramblefur looked confused, but got no answers from Softbreeze’s cold stare. Poppyfoot’s tail bushed, and she leaned over to whisper something to Smokewillow, glancing at Emberstep as she did.

Onewhisker looked contemptuously at Mudclaw, his lip curled. “To what end?” he demanded. “You can’t just demand something like that!”

Mudclaw lashed his tail, his gaze sweeping over the cats opposing him. A few flakes of snow stuck themselves in his fur. “Each and every cat here deserves to know the truth, Onewhisker – we must know if you’ve made a deal with ThunderClan for power; if all of this was really Tallstar’s final wish!”

He took a step forward. “Since you have refused to tell us, I have decided to take matters into my own paws!”

Onewhisker twitched snow from his whiskers. “This is absurd,” he hissed. “A waste of time, and I’ll hear no more of it!”

“So you refuse to tell us?” Mudclaw spat. “To even consider it?”

“There’s nothing I need to prove to you,” Onewhisker snapped back. He got to his paws, as did Whitetail. “Tallstar named me deputy in your place, and then he died. Nothing more, nothing less! That you think there’s some conspiracy in it is hare-brained!”

“So then tell us what he said!” Duskwhisker demanded, thrusting her muzzle forward. Crowflight saw her claws slide out. “Tell us why ThunderClan cats were permitted to hear the ceremony, but the rest of us weren’t!”

Whitetail met Duskwhisker’s apparent aggression, looking ready to strike out at the black she-cat. “Onewhisker doesn't have to say anything to any of you!” she snarled. “Tallstar named him leader, and by the warrior code a leader’s word is law! Have you all forgotten that?!”

“Not a one of us have,” Tornear meowed, moving to back up Duskwhisker. As he moved, so did Webfoot. The gray tom’s ears were flat to his head. “But until we know exactly what was said and done in that bush on that day, I don’t think any one of us should consider Onewhisker to be our leader.”

“We have a right to know!” yowled Softbreeze. When she stepped forward, Poppyfoot mirrored her movement, looking nervous.

“What’s there to hide?” Emberfoot’s spine bent, and Bramblefur met her glare, though the tabby queen looked very uncertain, now.

Fear-scent clouded the air. Crowflight’s heart thudded in his ears. “Please, Onewhisker,” he begged, pushing forward, doing his best to entreat the lean tom. “Why won’t you tell us?”

The look in Onewhisker’s eyes cut Crowflight like a claw – a level of disappointment that Crowflight hadn’t seen since he was an apprentice, a look he’d only ever associated with Mudclaw. Crowflight felt as if he were about to be told his warrior ceremony was being delayed again. Onewhisker shook his head.

“Instead of licking your wound and letting it heal,” Onewhisker growled, glaring at Mudclaw, “you’ve decided to let it fester. I thought you were better than that, Mudclaw, but I can see now that I was wrong. I gave you the opportunity to lead by my side and you cast it aside, and now you try to divide the Clan against me?”

“All we want is the truth!” Mudclaw roared. His hackles were tense, ready to spring. “Why is it so hard to give us merely that, Onewhisker? This would all be over if you just told us the truth!”

“Tallstar’s words were for me, and me alone!” Onewhisker yowled back. His neck fur stood on its ends, disturbing the layer of snow forming along his spine. The rowan groaned again, as if reacting to the rising tension.

Onewhisker took a step forward, nearly meeting muzzles with the former WindClan deputy. “Back down, Mudclaw!”

“I call for a casting of stones!” Mudclaw howled instead, thrusting himself forward even more. The two were almost muzzle to muzzle.

“Back down!”

The wind howled.

“I call for a casting of stones!”

The rowan tree creaked.

“Cast the stones!” Duskwhisker echoed. “Cast the stones!”

“Cast! The! Stones!” Emberstep and Tornear repeated. Softbreeze joined her voice to theirs, rising the chant over the noise of the storm: “Cast! The! Stones! Cast! The! Stones!”

As they chanted, Whitetail raised her tail and roared, “Back down! Back down! Back down!” Those on her side joined in, their voices carrying through the whirl of snow.

Between them, Onewhisker and Mudclaw had begun to circle one another. Crowflight’s throat went dry – were they really going to fight? Like this? The earth pitched beneath his paws. He felt like he was about to retch, his fur running hot. Was this Shadepaw’s dream come true?

An apprentice wailed in fear. Crowflight saw Ashfoot’s mouth move, but he couldn’t hear what his mother was saying over the crowd and the wind. She tried to get to her paws, but fell flat onto her belly before she could take a step, her expression hopelessly pained in the swirling whiteness.

It was Barkface that ended it all.

The old tom emerged from the shadow of the medicine den and yowled, his voice like a crack of thunder: “Enough!”

Both sides of the Clan quieted, lowering their muzzles as Barkface pushed through to the center of the clearing. Onewhisker and Mudclaw still circled one another there, but as Barkface crossed between them they stopped – their claws, however, did not sheathe, and their spines did not unbend.

Snow fell in a torrent around them, each flake pattering against the earth. Barkface’s gaze glowered upon them all, but his disappointment was all for Onewhisker and Mudclaw. The old medicine cat’s whiskers quivered.

“This is madness!” Barkface decreed. His stumpy tail flicked up, towards the heavens. “Do neither of you see it, there in the clouds above? Tallstar is there, looking down upon you, the snow his sorrowful tears! Do neither of you see what you’re doing to this Clan you both claim to love?”

“I see it,” murmured Poppyfoot, her tail trembling, eyes wide to their whites.

“Me, too,” Tornear whispered, his muzzle turned up. “Oh, Tallstar...”

Whitetail’s eyes were wide with shock as she stared up at the clouds, and Duskwhisker had her claws dug into the earth as if it might shift beneath her. Emberstep stepped backward, nearly ramming into Crowflight, her entire body shaking. Smokewillow had run to Robinwing to comfort her, his eyes searching the sky while he sheltered his mate from the scorn of their former leader.

Crowflight looked up. The swirling mass of clouds writhed in the sky, dark and oppressive, hiding the sun. That alone felt ominous, but Crowflight narrowed his eyes, struggling to see any clear shape in the storm. Perhaps Tallstar was not angry with him? Perhaps the visage of their former leader was already gone? He looked down, blinking snow from his eyes.

Barkface narrowed his gaze upon Mudclaw. “Onewhisker was chosen as leader of WindClan, and there will be no casting of stones. Not today.”

Mudclaw returned that scrutinous look, but said nothing, his gaze seething with undisguised rage.

Onewhisker unbent his spine and hissed, “Had I my leader’s name I would exile you for this, Mudclaw, upon penalty of death!”

Mudclaw curled his lip around his fangs. “You can,” he agreed, “but you are Onewhisker still; and thank StarClan for it, if that’s your mind when faced with a thing so simple as telling the truth to your Clanmates.”

Onewhisker bristled from ears to tail, looking to start it up all over again; but Barkface stepped between he and Mudclaw. The old medicine cat growled once more, “Enough.”

Barkface sighed. “I suggest we put this behind us, and go on with our day. WindClan is as it should be, as Tallstar and StarClan have willed it. Not everyone may like it – but not everyone has to.” His gaze leveled upon Mudclaw. “We are bound by the warrior code, by our love for one another and our Clan. The will of our ancestors is not for every cat to question.”

Mudclaw lashed his tail. He spat on the ground but turned and stalked away, heading for the den that had been made for the elders. He slipped inside, disappearing into the darkness without another word.

With him gone, the tension in the air faded. Crowflight’s pelt felt cool, finally. Cats began to awkwardly break apart, murmuring worriedly to one another as cats from one side glanced at cats from the other. Though Barkface had diffused the situation, the lines had been clearly drawn.

Crowflight glanced at Duskwhisker. The black she-cat lowered herself to her pads, and she let out what seemed to be a long-held breath. She didn’t meet Crowflight’s gaze – instead she was promptly surrounded by Tornear and Emberstep, who were muttering under their breath. Softbreeze joined them, her tail bushed and lashing.

Crowflight turned his gaze to Onewhisker. He was talking with Barkface in hushed tones, his eyes still bright with indignation. Barkface snapped something at him that made Onewhisker look like a startled kit – a moment later he was on his paws, barking orders. Whitetail met him briefly, then she called for Smokewillow, who in turn called for Thornpaw.

The apprentice awkwardly crawled out from the den, her eyes alight with fear. Weaselpaw and Thistlepaw were still huddled together inside, out of the snow. Crowflight’s heart ached – what was it like for them, seeing all this turmoil, with their mentors on both sides of the problem? Would they be expected to choose a side? Thornpaw looked haunted as she left the camp, a worried look over her shoulder for her denmates.

Crowflight swallowed. Lastly, he picked out his mother at the back of the crowd. Ashfoot’s eyes were pained, and she looked immeasurably tired – but she no longer looked disappointed when she met her son’s gaze. Perhaps there was something in Crowflight’s eyes that he couldn’t see himself.

Perhaps she was beginning to change her own mind.

Crowflight’s entire body shook, suddenly. He struggled to keep himself from falling into the snow that had piled up around his paws as the world seemed to tilt on its side.

Something inside of him longed to be anywhere but here. No cat was watching, not anymore. They were all trying to push on as if the ground hadn’t just cracked beneath their paws.

Crowflight slipped out of camp and ran, as far away and as fast as he could manage.

———————————————————

He passed beneath Lakeview, haring over hill and under. His body moved on sheer instinct alone, the desire to be as far from his camp and his Clan as possible superseding all else. He hardly noticed the storm abating, or the clear moors turning to trees as he ran.

It was only when he heard the sound of water that Crowflight realized where he was: deep in the forest, coming up alongside the river that formed the Divide between ThunderClan and WindClan. He forced himself to a stop, his chest heaving, lungs prickling as sharp cold air entered his body.

Paws sore, he stumbled down towards the lake, where the shoreline of the river was low enough to dip his muzzle in to drink. The cold, clear water electrified him from ears to toes, and he lapped greedily, until he thought he might burst.

Only when he couldn’t possibly drink any more did Crowflight stop, and, woozy, he flopped onto his side. His breath puffed out before him like icy clouds, and he found that all he could focus on were them – he watched them form and drift away as reality began to slowly creep back in.

He closed his eyes, and wished it were all a dream.

“Crowflight?”

His eyes flew open. Everything was so hazy. Shadepaw? Perhaps it was all a dream, then...

“Crowflight, i-is that you? Are you okay?!”

Her voice was coming from across the river. He tried to lift his head, but the weight of it all was pressing down on him like he was buried beneath a stone.

“Crowflight! Hang on!”

He wasn’t sure how long he waited. He could hear the crashing of undergrowth, the crunch of snow – it faded away, eventually. He closed his eyes again, wondering if he could dream a different dream, until the flurry of crunching snow quickly growing closer woke him again.

Shadepaw’s scent drifted over him like a blanket of leaves. Her paws were on his body, pressing and poking, and he even felt the heat of her ear touch his flank. He wasn’t sure what she was doing, not really, but her being there felt nice.

She shoved something before his muzzle. It smelled sharp and tangy.

“Eat it,” Shadepaw instructed. “It’s thyme. A bit withered, but there should still be some healing power in it.”

Crowflight obeyed. The leaves tasted funny against his tongue. He felt her lap against his fur, rubbing it the wrong way like Tribe cats did to keep warm. He thought of those mountain-dwellers and sighed.

I wonder if Feathertail and Brook are okay...?

The thyme worked, soon enough. The world around Crowflight came into focus, and reality felt real again. He drew in a sharp, cold breath and coughed.

Shadepaw sighed with relief. “Oh, thank StarClan! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cat so in shock! What happened?!”

Crowflight lifted his head. His mind felt foggy and befuddled, and it took all his concentration to struggle to his paws. He looked around, suddenly realizing where he was, what he’d done. The world pitched again, and he nearly fell.

Shadepaw caught him, bracing him against her shoulder. “Deep breaths,” she said. “Deep, calm breaths...”

Crowflight listened. Each exhale seemed to draw the world into a more stable place. Shadepaw’s presence helped, too, her comforting scent wreathing around him. He breathed it in, holding it close, until finally it felt like he was in control of his body again.

“Thanks,” he rasped.

“No problem,” Shadepaw mewed. “Can you tell me what happened now?”

Crowflight’s throat tightened. Thinking back to the confrontation in camp almost made the world tilt again, and his stomach churned like the way the river before him spun out into the lake. But he had to say something – a glance at Shadepaw told him she was very, very concerned.

“WindClan is getting bad,” Crowflight whispered. “Worse. I couldn’t stay there. I... had to leave. I needed...” He searched for a word to capture it without alarming her overmuch. He failed, miserably. “I needed air.”

“I’m sorry,” Shadepaw breathed. She touched her nose to his shoulder.

Crowflight closed his eyes. His thoughts swirled like the clouds in the storm that had stopped the fighting. His stomach clenched.

“Shadepaw... can I ask you something?” he mewed, his eyes drifting open. He turned and met her gaze.

“Of course,” she meowed. “Anything! You know that...”

There was no delicate way to ask, so he just did: “Do medicine cats lie about signs from StarClan?”

Shadepaw’s eyes darkened.

“I suppose some might,” she answered, her tone careful. “We’re not perfect, after all. Some cats might just have their own agendas in mind. I don’t know of any way to tell, really.”

Crowflight sighed. “I see.”

Shadepaw’s ear flicked, and she looked awkwardly down at her paws. “Do... Do you think that I lied to you?” she asked.

“No,” Crowflight answered quickly, his voice grating low. “I... I think WindClan is very much in danger.” Very, very much.

Shadepaw curled her tail around her paws. She looked like she wished she had lied.

For a moment, Crowflight wished she had, too.

“I don’t want to go back,” Crowflight whispered.

Shadepaw leaned into his fur. “You don’t have to,” she assured. “You can only take so much. We can stay like this, for as long as you want.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve been dreaming of this river a lot, lately,” Shadepaw murmured. Her gaze was clouded. “I don’t know why. I keep being drawn here... I keep seeing...”

She trailed off. Crowflight didn’t press her. He only rested his muzzle on her head, and looked at the water. It cut so neatly between their territories. The name ‘Divide’ was so proper it hurt.

More than ever before he wished that they were back on their first journey. He wished that they had gotten lost, that StarClan had left them to wander. No Clans to go back to, no obligations but to one another, their little family against the world. No cats threatening to tear one another apart. No disappointment in the eyes of cats you’d always looked up to.

Beyond it all, though, he wished that there didn’t have to be a Divide between he and Shadepaw.