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Crowflight watched the last of the ambush patrol stream out of camp, leaving a trampled gorse barrier in their wake that sunk some of the hope that had risen in Crowflight’s heart.

Poppyfoot had worked so hard on that, he thought miserably. Now, it will have to be re-done. His heart felt so unbearably heavy. WindClan itself seemed as broken as the barrier that protected it.

“See you out there,” Tinystar meowed gruffly, ignorant of Crowflight’s concerns. His ice-blue eyes were glimmering with a desire for battle. He flicked his tail at Tawnypelt, as if sensing that the chosen cats were in this together, and the two of them hared off, slipping through a gap in the gorse.

“Onewhisker, please, you oughtn’t go...” Whitetail’s voice was raised weakly in the howling wind. “Your injuries...”

Crowflight glanced back at his Clanmates. Though Onewhisker had called them to action, none of them seemed eager to move immediately – and perhaps that was because Onewhisker was struggling to hold himself up, propped up by Whitetail’s shoulder.

“We must drive them out,” Onewhisker gasped. Blood dripped from a tear in his lip. “Every one of them...”

Her gaze troubled, tired, Ashfoot mewed, “Even Mudclaw, and the cats that supported him?”

Onewhisker did not answer. He pushed himself away from Whitetail and steadied himself on his paws. He turned to his Clan and meowed, “Any cat fit enough to fight comes with me. The rest are to stay and tend to their wounds.”

The warriors of WindClan shifted, nervous. When Ashfoot straightened her back, though, and lifted her tail, the spark returned to their eyes. Crowflight felt a rush of love for his mother, able to inspire even in this desperate situation.

Ashfoot’s eyes were hard when she looked over her Clan. When she was done with her assessment, she turned to Onewhisker and meowed, “We are with you.”

“Ashfoot...” Onewhisker meowed, his tone somber. “You need to stay here. If something should happen to me...”

Ashfoot curled her lip, then turned her muzzle away. She limped off towards the medicine cat den, where Shadepool was waiting for her. Crowflight hadn’t noticed the tortoiseshell she-cat during the initial push – she must have slipped in when the rebels were gone.

“We’ll take care of them,” Shadepool meowed, her voice reassuring as Ashfoot passed her. She dipped her head to Onewhisker and said, “Go.”

Onewhisker gave her a grateful nod. Lifting his tail, he yowled, “For WindClan!”

“For WindClan!”

Onewhisker and all of WindClan – even Softbreeze and Emberstep, who had stayed with Mudclaw during the initial fighting – surged forward, plowing through the snow that had collected in the clearing.

As one, the chosen cats followed. Crowflight took the lead, but the others matched his stride as he had taught them. Nightfrost was at his shoulder, with Stoneheart just a pace behind. Mistyfoot was a tail-length away, covering Crowflight’s other side.

This was what Crowflight had wanted for so long – all of them, together, surging out into the unknown. The shimmer of the powdered snow almost made it seem like Feathertail’s shape was near, too, and when Crowflight glanced up at the sky, he told himself that Stormfur was looking down on them, cheering him on. Perhaps he had been the one to send the snowstorm?

The WindClan cats, though injured, were the masters of the moor. In the howling blizzard, the shapes of cats were hard to distinguish, but the swirling wind carried the scents of Clans and blood. Quickly they caught up with the ThunderClan cats and Mudclaw’s rebels, splitting off to aid in the skirmishes that were taking place all along the snow-covered Verdant Moor.

Stoneheart veered away, slamming himself directly into one of his Clanmates, who was wrestling with Cloudtail. With a strong paw swipe he’d laid them low, pinning them to the snow-crusted earth and hissing, “Go home - now!”

Crowflight swallowed, watching Stoneheart’s Clanmate shiver and wiggle free. They fled, tail tucked, and Stoneheart watched them go, his eyes narrowed.

He has no issue with fighting his own Clanmates! Crowflight felt a little bit of discomfort, as he could see Tawnypelt blatantly avoiding the RiverClan cats that were tangled up in the fighting. Is that a ShadowClan thing, or a Stoneheart thing?

A few cats ran past him, fleeing the ferocious claws of Nightfrost and Mistyfoot. Nightfrost was about to cheer when he was knocked off of his paws by the dappled body of Falcontail. The two writhed in the snow and panic seared Crowflight’s pelt.

He charged at the slimy RiverClan tom, fastening his teeth into his scruff and hauling him off Nightfrost. Falcontail hissed and struggled, but Crowflight flung him away, straight into the claws of Mistyfoot, who wasted no time giving him a piece of her mind. Stoneheart joined her, trapping the RiverClan cat between them and blocking him from the others.

“Are you alright?” Crowflight meowed, turning back to Nightfrost.

Nightfrost looked stunned, but his scratches weren’t deep. He got to his paws. “I’ll be okay,” he mewed. “I think...”

Crowflight helped him up. “Shadepool would never forgive me if something happened to you...” he breathed, glancing at Nightfrost’s fur. “So, you’d better not be lying...” Black cats were hard to examine, but with all this snow whirling around them it was even worse.

“Please,” Nightfrost hissed, shaking his pelt. “I don’t think there’s a thing you could do wrong in her eyes - she loves you, Crowflight.”

Crowflight stared at Nightfrost, wide-eyed. It felt as if the cold had sucked the air from his lungs. “W-What?”

Nightfrost blinked, surprised. “Uh...”

Crowflight watched him struggle, as if the words were an opponent that Nightfrost needed to fight with tooth and claw. “I... I don’t think I was meant to say that,” he admitted.

“But is that true?” Crowflight asked, thrusting his muzzle close. Suddenly, the battles happening around him didn’t seem to matter. He needed to know this more than anything else, ever. “Does she love me? Really? Has she told you that?”

Nightfrost’s pale blue eyes were wide to their whites. “She’s never had to, Crowflight. It’s obvious as the moon!”

Crowflight sighed. “I love her, too,” he meowed, quietly. “Night, I love her so much...”

“Crow,” Nightfrost began, his tone full of pain, “you know that’s against-”

Though his next words were obvious, they were cut off – a familiar screech of pain carried over the wind and hills.

Duskwhisker!

Crowflight raised his head. Where was she? In the white, swirling blizzard, he could barely make out individual cats.

“It’s coming from close to the shore!” Nightfrost hissed.

Crowflight saw him take off, a black streak in the powder white. Crowflight followed, keeping his nose to Nightfrost’s tail-tip. Everything else would have to wait, but Crowflight had to admit to himself that finally saying the words aloud made him feel as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

They found Duskwhisker at the bottom of a hill near the stony shoreline, struggling against Leafwhisker and Blackclaw, Falcontail’s closest allies. Nightfrost leaped from near the bottom of the hill, landing squarely on Leafwhisker’s shoulders, while Crowflight let his momentum carry him straight into Blackclaw.

The two rolled and tumbled onto the stones, claws locked in one another’s fur. First Crowflight was on the bottom, but Blackclaw’s greater weight made it impossible for Crowflight to dislodge the RiverClan warrior with his hind paws alone – the failure earned him a smack that bounced Crowflight’s head against the pebbles, blinding his eyes with starlight.

Crowflight felt claws digging into his belly as he struggled to recover. He flailed at Blackclaw uselessly, his claws lacking the strength to beat the black warrior’s thick coat. As pain seared his body, Crowflight thought of Shadepool, and how ironic it would be if he were to die here, after finally confessing his feelings – and not even to her directly, which he was sure she would scold him for when they met in StarClan.

But then Blackclaw’s weight lifted, and Crowflight was freed. He heard a splash, and a terrified yowl. As Crowflight’s vision came back to him he saw Blackclaw flailing the choppy gray waters of the lake.

“Rabbit-heart,” Duskwhisker hissed beside him. Her whiskers were touched with snow, twitching in amusement. “I just threw him into the shallows! You’d think a RiverClan cat could tell that...”

Blackclaw seemed to realize it a moment later. Soaked to the bone, he pulled himself out of the water and fled around the lake, towards RiverClan territory. Leafwhisker followed him a moment later, bleeding from several new scratches.

“He was tough!” Nightfrost breathed, shaking out his pelt. There was a new nick in his ear and a cut above his eye. “StarClan, what’re those RiverClan warriors learning? I’d like some of it...”

Duskwhisker’s nose touched his ear. “Are you alright?” she asked, her breath warming his face.

Crowflight nodded, getting to his paws. His head hurt, and his belly was sure to be sore for days, but he was otherwise unharmed. “Thanks, Dusk,” he mewed gratefully.

Duskwhisker scoffed. “Any time, fluff-brain.”

Crowflight moved to touch his nose to Duskwhisker’s, but he saw from the corner of his eye that Nightfrost had stiffened, as if he’d heard something on the wind. Crowflight strained his ears – all he could hear were the sounds of the wind and, somewhere in that, the sounds of a battle slowly waning.

Then, the voice came: “Crowflight! Nightfrost!”

He saw her dark shape outlined in white. “Shadepool!” Crowflight gasped. “What in StarClan’s name are you doing here?”

Shadepool skidded down the hill, scattering powdery snow in her wake. Her eyes were wide to their whites, her fur fluffed up against the cold. She was breathless, her sides heaving, and she nearly stumbled and landed on her face. Nightfrost caught her before Crowflight could.

She must have run all the way here. Even with Crowflight having taught her how to run properly on open ground, the harsh winds and unfamiliar hills would’ve made it difficult. How did she even know where we were?

“Ash...Ashfoot...” Shadepool panted.

Crowflight started. “Ashfoot?” he repeated. Worry shot through him, colder than the wind. “What about her?”

Shadepool’s eyes were desperate and sorrowful and wide when she looked up at Crowflight. “She’s gone!”

Crowflight’s world rocked.

“Gone? What do you mean, gone?” Duskwhisker demanded, stepping forward. She glanced at Crowflight, asking the question that he dared not: “Like...?”

“Not dead,” Shadepool managed, finally catching her breath. Crowflight had almost let himself feel relief, but that was short-lived as the medicine cat meowed on: “I was tending to Thistlepaw when I smelled infection in her wound – it must’ve opened sometime during the fighting. I went to get something for it inside Barkface’s stores, but when I returned, Ashfoot was gone!”

“Barkface and Ryewhisper didn’t see her go?” Nightfrost asked.

Shadepool shook her head. “They were so busy – Thistlepaw is very hurt, and Robinwing was taking a long time to calm down, because we can’t give her herbs right now; not to mention the cats coming in from the battle!”

She paused, taking a gulp of steadying air. “As soon as I noticed Ashfoot was gone, I had to go after her! Her wound’s reopened and infected - she doesn’t have long!”

“So where is she?!” Crowflight demanded, his voice shrill.

“I... I followed her scent as best as I could, but I lost it over the hills when the snow covered up her trail,” Shadepool confessed. Her eyes were pools of worry. “I knew I had to find help, so I felt for Nightfrost, and...”

“Duskwhisker, get Shadepool back to the camp,” Crowflight ordered. Duskwhisker opened her mouth, ready to hiss, but Crowflight interrupted her: “You were just fighting two warriors at once, not to mention any other wounds you’re hiding. Nightfrost and I are fresh, and Shadepool needs to help Barkface and Ryewhisper tend to the others!”

Still, Duskwhisker looked like she might be stubborn. Crowflight insisted, lowering his muzzle to Duskwhisker, “Please - there’s no one else I trust more to keep Shadepool safe!”

Duskwhisker closed her jaws. Then, she hissed, “Fluff-brain!” before lashing her tail at Shadepool. “Come on!”

Shadepool’s eyes searched his, and she thrust her nose forward, brushing against his chin. “You know, don’t you?” she murmured.

“I do.” Crowflight breathed in her scent.

“Then we’ll figure it out later,” Shadepool decided, stepping away. “Good luck – StarClan guide your paws.”

She and Duskwhisker left, climbing up the hill, and Crowflight sighed. He glanced at Nightfrost, who looked quite concerned.

Crowflight felt a flash of frustration. Now isn’t the time to worry about codes!

Nightfrost seemed to sense that. “Let’s go,” was all he meowed.

The two took off up the hill, into the wind. At the top, Crowflight’s gaze searched the white world for his mother – the blizzard had cleared up some, and the visibility was much improved, but the wind still pierced his coat and thrust powdering drifts into the air. Small breaks in the dark gray clouds exposed a pale purple sky speckled with evening stars.

There were no more pockets of fighting cats – now it seemed as if the ThunderClan and WindClan cats were fully engaged in driving away the rebels, chasing them towards the Arrival and RiverClan territory. Crowflight spotted Tinystar’s small shape harassing a group of ShadowClan cats, some of his warriors by his side. Tawnypelt was harrying ShadowClan warriors while Stoneheart had no trouble driving the RiverClan cats away with Mistyfoot by his side.

There was no sign of Ashfoot and, much to Crowflight’s dismay, Onewhisker or Mudclaw.

He scanned towards the Arrival, and spotted two warriors streaking after one another, with a third straggling behind. Crowflight narrowed his eyes. If the two were running, why would an injured cat be pursuing them?

A break in the clouds lit up their pelts – two brown, one gray.

“There they are!” Crowflight rasped. “Ma!”

He didn’t wait for Nightfrost. He sprang, paws pounding and skidding against the snowy hillside. He heard Nightfrost scrabbling after him, swearing and struggling, but Crowflight did not dare help him this time.

To his dismay, he didn’t catch up to them – they were far ahead by the time he had caught their trail. Their scents were muddled by the wind and snow, but there was a thin trail of blood that had to have come from Ashfoot – it smelled wrong, tinged with the infection that Shadepool had been worried about.

Nightfrost caught up, breathless. “Is that her?” he gasped.

Crowflight nodded, his heart in his throat.

Why is she following Onewhisker and Mudclaw?

He raced after his mother, her wavering blood-trail an easy guide. Nightfrost was at his side, panting, his tail bushed against the cold. They passed over the WindClan border, and still the trail went on – even over the boggier parts of the Arrival, there were specks of blood on the bent, frozen reeds.

By the time they had caught up to Ashfoot, all that remained of the storm were the harsh winds and the thick layer of snow caught up by the lowlands.

The three cats were circling one another beneath the boughs of the single old cedar that was leaning out over the water. Mudclaw seemed cornered, bristling and hissing, lashing out with his claws at Onewhisker, who was aggressive but exhausted. Between them was Ashfoot, as if her bleeding body could stop them from killing one another.

“What is she doing?” hissed Nightfrost.

“I have no idea...” Crowflight murmured back.

By the time the two toms had prowled closer, the rebels had been chased over the river. Mudclaw was all that remained of his struggle – even Falcontail had fled him. ThunderClan and WindClan warriors alike closed in, though they kept their distance, seeking only to block Mudclaw’s means of escape back onto WindClan territory. Tinystar kept them from advancing any further.

“... there’s been enough bloodshed!” wailed Ashfoot, her voice finally reaching Crowflight’s ears as he drew closer. “Surrender, Mudclaw, please! This needn’t end in anyone’s death!”

“I never wanted to hurt anyone!” snarled Mudclaw. He looked as if he might strike Ashfoot, his eyes wide and wild, his back up in a steep arch. “I just wanted what was best for WindClan – why can’t any cat see that?!”

Onewhisker hissed, “So you brought in cats from outside the Clan to attack us? To what end?!”

“To make you all see reason!” Mudclaw snapped hoarsely.

Onewhisker edged closer. “I think you lost your reason for this rebellion long ago, Mudclaw,” he growled. “It’s time to end this!”

“Bring it, craven fool!” Mudclaw seethed. “You’re all for raising your claws with Tinystar backing you up!”

Onewhisker surged forward, but Ashfoot caught him in her forepaws. Her eyes gleamed desperately.

“Stop!” Ashfoot wailed, as the two toms threatened to squish her between them. Blood splattered the snow beneath her from her effort at holding Onewhisker back. “Can’t you see what this will do? If you kill one another, if you...”

The wind changed direction, and there was the most horrible noise – wood splintering, grinding against itself. The old cedar, weighted down by age and snow, began to bend.

Crowflight’s heart shot with horror. “Ma!” he shrieked.

It was too late – the cedar’s trunk broke. For a perilous moment it seemed to hang suspended in the air, and then a gust of wind rattled its boughs and brought it down. It hit the earth so hard that Crowflight felt the quake rattle up his bones, and for a moment the world was drowned in a sea of white powder.

Crowflight coughed. He didn’t care that he couldn’t see, he flailed desperately as he made his way down to the shore.

By the time the powder had cleared, Crowflight had reached the old cedar. He passed Onewhisker, who stared down at the tree in shock and horror. He passed Mudclaw, who was pulling himself out from beneath one of the branches, his hind leg twisted oddly.

Crowflight stopped at the trunk and got down on his belly, ignoring the prickle of needles and the way the sap in the air made his eyes sting. He clawed at the bark, tearing at his claws and paw pads, streaking blood down the wood.

“Help me!” he cried. “Help me, help me, help...”

He couldn’t stop himself from babbling. Crowflight’s gaze was fixed on the tiny tuft of his mother’s gray tail, sticking out from beneath the tree trunk he was trying so hard to move. The snow beneath his paws was red, soaked and sticky, and he told himself it was his own blood, and not the blood of his mother’s broken body.

“Crowflight, stop!”

Crowflight heard Nightfrost’s voice, but it seemed so far away. I must help her! She’s still under there!

Why isn’t anyone helping me?!

He didn’t notice the jaws gently sinking into his scruff. When Stoneheart tried to pull him away, Crowflight dug his claws into the wood until they hurt so badly, he yowled when they pulled free. He landed in the snow and, stubbornly, tried to scrabble his way back – Stoneheart's weight held him down, though, and kept him from moving.

He was aware now of Mistyfoot and Nightfrost winding around him, holding him steady while he shook in the driving snow. Nightfrost’s tongue lapped at his bloodied paws.

None of them said anything, but they didn’t have to. Crowflight shivered and gave up, going limp inside of their huddle. The tuft of his mother’s tail, all that remained of her, fluttered in the wind - until scattered snow covered it for good.

“Look, the tree!” gasped a cat. “It’s made a bridge!”

“We can reach the island now!” said another.

Some cat added, soberly, “Thanks to Ashfoot...”

“Ashfoot saved us,” Onewhisker breathed. He glanced at Mudclaw. “She saved us and granted us a Gathering-place!”

Mudclaw said nothing.

“What happens now?” Tinystar asked. He glanced warily between the two WindClan toms. “Who rules WindClan?”

“Onewhisker,” Mudclaw gasped, before Onewhisker could speak. “The stones spoke as such. I accept their judgment.” His eyes were glazed with pain – his own, or did he feel Ashfoot’s loss, too? Crowflight did not care at this moment.

Tinystar glanced at Onewhisker, then at the tree. “Congratulations, my friend.” His voice was heavy with the cost of this victory. “Your deputy...”

“I will choose a new one,” Onewhisker promised. He steadied his paws, and his eyes, full of sorrow, touched on Crowflight. “Right now, though, I think there are far more important things.”

He raised his voice, his pale eyes bright. “As leader of WindClan, I forgive the cats that fought against me, no matter what Clan they hailed from – they doubted me, and had every right to do so.” He paused, his gaze softening. “I doubted myself, after all.”

There seemed to be no objection. Onewhisker declared, “Let the slate be wiped clean of this bloody business. That’s what Ashfoot was trying to say, I think.” His eyes touched upon Tinystar. “When next you see WindClan, we will be born anew.”

“I look forward to it,” Tinystar meowed, dipping his head to Onewhisker. He turned to his Clan, gathered up the hill in a huddle. “Come, ThunderClan – let us return home!”

Crowflight felt the weight of his friends shift. Slowly they drifted away, each meowing their good-byes. Mistyfoot ran her tail along his pelt. Stoneheart touched his ear with his muzzle. Nightfrost was last to go, and he held Crowflight as long as he could – but even so, he had to go as well, taking away the last of the warmth that Crowflight so craved.

He stared at the old cedar. The storm had ended, the clouds had cleared. The moor was safe and whole.

The stars were out, and the world was cold.

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