[TB] STARLIGHT -- Chapter 28 (Patreon)

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Exhausted, Crowflight found himself flopping down in his nest in the rain dens as soon as he entered camp. There was little protest to this, but Crowflight had words prepared for any cat who might try to stop him.

His eyes were drooping shut as Duskwhisker entered the den behind him, and he was almost entirely asleep when she wrapped herself around him and lapped soothingly at his ears. The gesture was kind and sweet, and Crowflight let it carry him into the abyss of sleep.

The rest was dark and dreamless, and when Crowflight woke he found that the day had disappeared entirely. He opened his eyes to predawn light, alone in the rain den, warm and cozy in his nest with a vole beside him that smelled of Duskwhisker.

He thanked StarClan, both for the dreamless sleep and the thoughtfulness of his friend. Crowflight devoured the vole in a few quick bites, too hungry to do much else. His mind still buzzed, but instead of exhaustion, Crowflight felt like he had gotten too much sleep.

Crowflight stared out of the den with concern. Had he slept right through the return of the medicine cats?

As he left the den, the remains of his vole in his mouth, he found that he had not – but he understood why he had not been bothered by his Clanmates for sleeping for so long.

Every cat seemed to be in camp, and every one of them seemed tense and alert. Counting, Crowflight guessed that no cat had been assigned a patrol yet – in fact, Onewhisker was nowhere to be found. Crowflight guessed he was in his den.

They’re all waiting to see if the Moonpool is real. Crowflight knew it was real, that StarClan was there and willing to speak from it, but no one else had that certainty, and until they did, it was clear they were not going to feel very secure.

Crowflight spotted Ashfoot outside of the medicine cat’s den, and started towards her. He stopped by the fresh-kill pile, exchanging his prey-bones for a mouse he might gift to his mother. As he rifled for a fresher morsel, Crowflight’s fur prickled – the fresh-kill pile was quite low. Had no cat gone hunting even yesterday?

With the freshest mouse he could find dangling from his jaws, he trotted over to Ashfoot. His mother was grooming herself beside the entrance to the medicine cat’s den, her wound finally free of cobwebs and poultices. The sight of the gnarly scabbing made Crowflight’s stomach twist – she wasn’t at all out of the woods yet.

“For me?” Ashfoot guessed, glancing up at him.

Crowflight nodded, laying the mouse beside her paws. “Have you already eaten?”

Ashfoot shook her head, and drew the fresh-kill close. “I’ve been too nervous,” she admitted. “But I think everyone else is that way, right now.”

Crowflight curled himself around his mother and took over grooming her pelt. She smelled of dried herbs and dirt, a scent that reminded him of Shadepaw, a little. He carefully avoided the scab of her wound.

“Are you still in pain?” he asked.

“Sometimes, if I stretch wrong,” Ashfoot answered. She bit into her mouse, tearing off its leg. “Barkface wants to keep me just a little longer, to ensure that the scab is good and tight. StarClan, but it itches!”

Crowflight purred. “You’re still not allowed out of camp?” he guessed.

Ashfoot shook her head, her eyes flashing with frustration. “Not yet,” she sighed. “But at least I can leave the den to take a walk – and I can give all of you orders again. That’s most important, I think...”

“So, why haven’t any patrols gone out yet?” he questioned. “Did not even Onewhisker assign anyone?”

Ashfoot frowned, and she nudged her mouse with a paw. “He hasn’t come out yet,” she mewed. “He’s waiting for Barkface... We all are.”

Crowflight glanced around camp. As the icy winds whistled overhead, he could see his Clanmates milling about in the dark. Even the apprentices were awake, huddled up together just outside their den with their heads bent in conversation. Over by the nursery, Robinwing’s muzzle poked out of the nursery to talk with Smokewillow and Poppyfoot. Emberstep and Duskwhisker were curled around one another on the opposite side of camp, with Tornear and Softbreeze a pace away. Webfoot and Bramblefur met with Whitetail and edged closer to the nursery, their eyes flashing.

At the top of one of the hills, above the elder’s den, Mudclaw stood with his body against the wind. He was staring down at the Clan below, his expression impossible to see in the dark. Behind him the rowan bent and rattled against the icy chill.

“He should be back any time,” Ashfoot mewed. “And then...”

Crowflight saw her claws slide in and out. He laid a paw over his mother’s and meowed, “It’ll be okay, Ma...”

Ashfoot threw him a skeptical look. Another gust of wind howled above. Her nose pressed against his, and she sighed, “No matter what happens, Crow, know that I love you, okay?”

Crowflight’s heart beat in his ears. “I love you, too,” he insisted. “But nothing is going to happen, okay? Okay?”

He wanted to believe it, and he saw that she did, too – but it was more than obvious. The tension in the camp clung like ice over water, and it was waiting for just the right moment to shatter into a million little pieces.

Crowflight swallowed the bitter cold air. He looked at the camp around him, and thought of how far it had come – the gully choked with bushes and debris had become a full-fledged camp, with strong gorse walls and dens made of strong branches and packed tight with mud and leaves to keep warmth inside. The hills that cut the wind, the rowan tree that stood proudly over a camp that Crowflight had hardly noticed was finished – was home - until now.

And, depending on who goes to the Moonpool tonight, that might all change...

As sunlight broke through a gap in the dark, snowy clouds, the gorse bushes at the camp entrance waved. Every cat in the Clan stiffened and turned their heads as Barkface and Ryewhisper pushed their way through. Both looked exhausted, but neither looked disappointed.

Silence hung in the air as Barkface and his apprentice strode into camp. Ryewhisper seemed keenly aware of the tension in camp, and he stuck close to his mentor, his eyes wide. Barkface was doing his best to look oblivious to it all as he walked towards the Tallstone.

A shadow on the edge of Crowflight’s vision moved – Mudclaw came down from the hilltop, rounding the elder’s den to join the rest of the Clan. Emberstep, Softbreeze, Tornear, and Duskwhisker moved to join him. On the other side of camp, Whitetail gathered up her supporters – though Robinwing stayed in the nursery, watching with round eyes but unwilling to come out into the sheer cold.

Barkface’s scent must have touched Onewhisker in his den, as the lean tabby slid out of the darkness beneath the Tallstone. He met Bakface’s gaze as the old tom stopped, wordlessly asking the question that was on every cat’s mind.

Barkface took a deep, steadying breath.

“The Moonpool is real,” he announced, his voice carrying on the cold winds. “We have made contact with StarClan. For her discovery, Shadepaw received her full name – Shadepool.”

Instead of the excited murmurs and conversation that might’ve followed such an announcement, Crowflight was shocked to hear nothing at all. Cats looked at one another, eyes round with anticipation.

Shadepool... Crowflight, at least, thought it was a beautiful, fitting name.

Crowflight’s tongue felt dry. Beside him, Ashfoot seemed stiff as a frozen rabbit as she waited for what was to come next. Crowflight saw her claws tearing into her mouse, pulling it to pieces.

“And?” Onewhisker asked, his breath moving off in clouds before his muzzle.

Barkface lowered his stumpy tail. “StarClan has approved a casting of stones.”

At those words, Ryewhisper moved off, slipping past Ashfoot and Crowflight to head into the medicine cat’s den.

“Finally,” growled Mudclaw. He stepped forward, now, his shoulder’s hunched and his eyes bright. “If even StarClan thinks it wise...”

Barkface flattened his ears. He ignored Mudclaw and turned to face the rest of the Clan, raising his voice: “Cats of WindClan, come forward – each and every one of you!”

As the cats drew forward, forming a ring around the clearing, Barkface meowed on, “A casting of stones is an ancient WindClan tradition, created by our founder Windstar herself. Whenever there is a decision that is too difficult for any one cat to make, that decision must be made – and its repercussions borne – by the whole of the Clan.”

There was a grunt from the medicine cat’s den. Ryewhisper emerged tail-first, dragging out a large sheaf of rowan bark that was littered with tiny, smooth stones, ones that looked to be from the lakeshore. When the bark strip was safely out of the den, Ryewhisper rounded it and began to push it forward with his nose, until it rested beside Barkface.

“The last casting of stones was seasons upon seasons ago,” Barkface yowled, “when Heatherstar and her Clan voted to put an end to tunneling beneath WindClan’s old territory. I was but a young apprentice then, but I still recall it vividly:

“Every cat in the Clan can participate, with an exception for kits. Any cat may choose to step aside and abandon their choice – but they must live with the consequences, same as the rest.” With a claw, Barkface drew a line deep into the cold earth. He sat himself at the head of that line, opposite the place where Ryewhisper had put the stones. Barkface’s gaze regarded his Clanmates evenly. “One side, for Onewhisker; the other, for Mudclaw. Come, you two.”

Onewhisker stepped forward first, and took one of the stones in his mouth. He chose his side, and placed it on his side of the line, settling down beside it so that there was no question. Mudclaw did the same a moment later, stalking to the opposite end with a glint of satisfaction in his eye.

Barkface looked between them both. “You may plead your cases, should you wish,” he offered. Beside him, Ryewhisper looked like he might rattle apart from nerves.

Crowflight dug his claws into the soil. It’s really happening, he thought. His heart hammered hard in his ears. Oh, StarClan, please... let this be the right thing!

Mudclaw spoke, loud and proud: “That StarClan has chosen to cast stones is no greater sign to me that I was right – Onewhisker’s refusal to tell the truth of his appointment is an admittance to foul play.”

His gaze passed over the cats in the crowd. “I was your deputy for many long moons,” he growled. ”I have the experience necessary to lead us now, in this new land; to keep us safe and fed and free of influences from the other Clans. Can Onewhisker say the same?”

“I never fancied leadership, that much is true,” Onewhisker countered, his tail lashing. “But when I was appointed, I did not shy away from my duty. I have made mistakes, and I will not deny it. WindClan never would have made it here if not for the help of the other Clans, and Tallstar knew that – the future that Mudclaw wants is one full of isolation. The one I want is formed of cooperation!”

“I want strength for WindClan!” Mudclaw snapped, bristling. “We never would have made it here if not for the other Clans, that is true; but WindClan is not some kit in need of a mother! We are proud, and strong, and independent! We are free as the wind and swift as rabbits! We do not exist because of the other Clans, we exist beside them – that is what I want to return to us!”

Onewhisker narrowed his eyes. “And how would you pave the way to that future?” he snarled. “With bones and blood?”

“Enough,” Barkface decided firmly. He sighed, his gaze dark, and meowed, “Place your stones.”

Whitetail moved first. She picked a stone from the rowan bark and set it beside Onewhisker’s, moving to sit beside him. Webfoot did the same, not bothering to disguise his disgust as he stared over at Mudclaw.

Tornear went next, tossing his stone to Mudclaw’s side. When he sat beside the dark tabby, his glare was all for Webfoot. Softbreeze came next, flanked by Emberfoot. The two she-cats put their stones beside Mudclaw’s.

Thornpaw strode forward then, her chest thrust out bravely. She picked up her stone and put it beside Mudclaw’s. Weaselpaw and Thistlepaw, as one, took their stones and made their way to Mudclaw’s side, too. The three huddled close, as if this were a decision they made as one.

Poppyfoot came next, and she put her stone beside Onewhisker. She sat with Whitetail, and kinked her tail towards the crowd. Out came Bramblefur and Smokewillow, who each picked up their stones and tossed them to Onewhisker’s side. Smokewillow returned to the sheet of bark and, with a glance at the nursery, put Robinwing’s stone beside his.

Duskwhisker came next. She picked up her stone and, with a glance at Crowflight, set it beside Mudclaw’s. She sat beside him, her tail wrapped over her paws tightly.

Crowflight felt Ashfoot move. She got to her paws and, stiffly, walked over to the stones. She put her stone beside Onewhisker’s, and then moved to sit at his side. Onewhisker gave her a grateful look, and she nodded in return.

Crowflight suddenly realized that not only were the sides evenly split, he was the only cat who had not voted. All eyes suddenly turned to him, and he felt them like a dozen prickers in his pelt.

“Ryewhisper and I have already decided that we will not vote,” Barkface meowed calmly. Beside him Ryewhisper nodded in confirmation. Barkface’s eyes rested on Crowflight. “It’s up to you, Crowflight.”

Crowflight thought he might faint. The wind whistled through his ears, chilling him to his core. He stared at each of the stones, and at his Clanmates behind them. He tried to swallow, but couldn’t. He wanted to run, but he had promised Deadfoot and Shadepaw and himself that he wouldn’t - and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t leave things at such a strong tie.

Heart rattling in his mind, he padded towards the stones. Each step felt like it took an eternity, so aware he was of the gravity of this choice. It pressed down on him as if the old rowan had decided to come down onto his back.

Standing beside the trio of remaining stones, Crowflight placed his paw on one. It was smooth, round, gray and speckled with darker bits. It was barely the size of one of his paw pads, and it leeched the warmth from him as he touched it.

“Whether or not Onewhisker was chosen properly doesn’t matter at this point,” Shadepool’s voice meowed in his head. “Maybe it never mattered in the first place... All that matters is who is the cat that will lead WindClan into the best possible future.”

StarClan, let me make the right choice!

“Tallstar wanted a future that was bright and safe for WindClan,” Crowflight began. He was surprised by the strength of his voice. With both Onewhisker and Mudclaw staring at him, he thought he might sound like a rasping kitten. “When I learned that Twolegs were going to destroy our home, that’s all that I wanted, too.”

Crowflight took a deep breath. He stared directly at Mudclaw and meowed, “It doesn’t matter whether or not Onewhisker was rightfully appointed. What was said that day isn’t important in the least, either – they were words spoken between a dying cat and his oldest friend and the cat he thought was the best choice to lead his Clan into the future he desired. Those words should stay in the hearts of those that heard them.”

Mudclaw’s glare was thunderous, as dark as the sky above. Crowflight saw something thin and wiry snap in his gaze.

It’s too late to back down now.

Crowflight took the stone in his claws. “You two could have worked together – you should have. But now we have to choose, and between the two of you... Onewhisker’s is the future that I want for WindClan. It’s the future that I worked for, the future that I lost a dear friend for - the one that I brought us here to live out.”

He tossed his stone over to Onewhisker’s side, where it clattered against the small pile until it lay at rest on the cold earth.

“We can be a strong, independent WindClan without forsaking our bonds with the other Clans,” Crowflight meowed on. He swept his gaze across every cat there. “We chosen cats may have journeyed here in one group, but we never would have made it without the skills and traditions of our individual Clans to aid us. We can keep our borders tight and our loyalty strong... and we can ask for aid and give it when necessary. It can go both ways.”

“He’s right,” Duskwhisker meowed, her voice shaky. “It can. It should.”

She took her stone and moved it over to Onewhisker’s side. Crowflight felt a rush of warmth towards his friend that almost knocked him off of his paws.

Mudclaw’s supporters shuffled. Tornear came forward then, with Thornpaw and the other apprentices at his heels. Three more stones cast towards Onewhisker. Tornear and Webfoot exchanged a glance, and then butted their heads together, relief in their eyes.

Only Emberstep and Softbreeze remained with Mudclaw now, and neither looked like they were about to budge. Snow began to fall, the sparse flakes landing in the clearing and catching on the grass.

“So that is how it will be, then,” Mudclaw growled.

“Yes,” Barkface said simply, “it is. The choice has been made, and the consequences must be lived with.”

Mudclaw bristled. He glared at each cat standing across from him, and then his gaze swept to Crowflight. The intensity was shocking, the fury and anger there as hot as flame. Crowflight thought then that Mudclaw would leap across the stones and try to rip out his throat.

“It doesn’t matter whether or not you accept this, Mudclaw,” Barkface went on, his tone serious as he took in Mudclaw’s expression. “The stones have been cast, and the choice is made. Onewhisker is leader of-”

“Onewhisker is no leader of mine!” Mudclaw roared. His claws unsheathed, and his tail lashed. His paw slashed through his little pile of stones, scattering them across the clearing. Emberstep and Softbreeze, shocked, each took a step back from him. The other cats on Onewhisker’s side got to their paws, more than one of them looking ready to pounce.

“Mudclaw, stop this nonsense!” Onewhisker hissed. “If you don’t stand down, I will exile you from WindClan!”

“You should have done that moons ago, you hare-brained fox-heart! That’s your problem,” Mudclaw spat back. “There’s no spine behind your words! No strength, no substance!”

He raised his tail. Crowflight saw shapes appearing, lining the hill behind Mudclaw – cats from ShadowClan and RiverClan, outlined in the dark, stormy sky. He recognized Falcontail and his friends, Leafwhisker and Blackclaw, and his gut plummeted.

This was his plan all along!

“What is this?” Onewhisker yowled, eyes wide. “Mudclaw, what have you done?!” Fear-scent was filling the clearing, from every cat.

“Oh, so it’s fine for you to make alliances with the other Clans, but not me?” Mudclaw sneered. He strode forward, his tail lashing. “I didn’t want it to go this way, Onewhisker, but Crowflight said that we can have it both ways - so have it both ways we shall - attack!”