[TB] TWILIGHT -- Chapter 5 (Patreon)

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"Well?"

Shadepool stared at her brother, her shock swiftly turning into frustration. Had he really followed her out here? Shadepool's hackles rose.

"You don't need to stick your nose into everything I do," Shadepool mewed back, her tone tight and terse. It was a struggle not to snap at her brother outright. "And you certainly don't need to spy on me!"

Nightfrost's eyes flashed. "It goes both ways," he muttered again. It sounded as if he wasn't comfortable with being out here and doing this, either; but Shadepool didn't much care - he could've chosen to stay in camp and mind his own business!

He looked down at his paws. "I was having the best dream, and then it all snapped apart and I was suddenly awake," he explained. One of his ears twitched. "The only time that happened before was when you were in some sort of trouble, so I just thought you needed me."

"Well, I don't!" Shadepool countered. Her tail lashed. "I wasn't in any danger, not with Crowflight!"

Nightfrost lifted his muzzle. His expression was concerned. "I know how you feel about Crowflight, but you shouldn't be out here Shade. Not on your own, and not after what's just happened! Didn't you listen to Father?" His voice was touched now with frustration: "StarClan above, this is just mouse-brained!"

The fur between Shadepool's shoulders rose. "Don't you dare call me mouse-brained!" she hissed.

"Why not?" Nightfrost sounded incredulous. "WindClan accused us of murdering Onewhisker, Shadepool - or weren't you there at the Gathering? The borders are closed, and who knows what Mudstar will do if he catches even a whiff of ThunderClan scent on his side of the Divide? Crowflight won't be able to save you, deputy or not!"

Shadepool's tail lashed again. "I didn't go over there," she snapped, "Crowflight came to me!"

"That's not any better!" Nightfrost stared at her as if she had just told him the moon was square. "You understand why that's not better, right?"

Shadepool curled her lip and turned her muzzle away from her brother. She could feel her frustration rising, crackling beneath her pelt like dry pine needles about to ignite in the burning sun. She sunk her claws into the hard earth, trying to stamp down the part of her that wanted to claw her brother's muzzle off.

"I know you love him," Nightfrost meowed, his tone softening. He took a half-step forward, lowering his voice to match the soft whisper of snow beneath his paws. "But isn't this the worst time to try and make this work out? Can't it wait until this mess is sorted?"

His tone was more patient, kinder - but it only felt like he was rubbing a hedgehog's back against Shadepool's skin, or like a mother telling her kit to wait until they were older to do something they were more than ready to do now. It made Shadepool's blood burn.

"Not to mention that it's against the code," Nightfrost pressed on. "Not just the warrior code, but the medicine cat one, too. Right?"

That was more than enough.

Shadepool narrowed her eyes. "You think I don't know that this is against the code?!" she snapped. Her heart thudded in her chest, thundering in her ears. "I'm not a kit, Nightfrost - I know exactly what I'm doing!"

"And what is that?" Nightfrost demanded. His voice rose, hitching. The fur along his hackles lifted. "Because from where I stand, it looks like you're about to get yourself into a lot of trouble - and drag me and the rest of ThunderClan into it with you, like you always do!"

Shadepool's fury turned so hot she felt cold again. She struggled to formulate a response, and could only stare at her brother, hurt and angry and so many shades of upset that she couldn't process what they all were. Her legs trembled, and her eyes stung as she looked at her littermate, the one cat out of all cats that she thought understood her best.

Sensing his mistake, Nightfrost flinched back, and offered, "Shade, I'm sorry. I was just-"

The bushes rattled, cutting him off. From the shadows between the branches, Mistyfoot emerged, her pelt turned pale silver by the moonlight. She looked between Nightfrost and Shadepool, her dark blue gaze serious and concerned. Finally, she looked to Nightfrost and prompted, "Is everything okay here?"

Nightfrost's gaze flashed awkwardly between Mistyfoot and Shadepool, but Shadepool suddenly felt sick - she didn't want to be anywhere near her brother right now, and certainly not near the two of them.

"I was just looking for some herbs by the water. Sometimes they can stay alive a bit longer, even in a harsh leafbare like this one," Shadepool managed to say. It felt like there was a stone lodged in her throat, but she gave Mistyfoot a formal dip of her chin. "It should have waited until morning, but as I found it difficult to sleep..."

"That's all well and good, Shadepool, but Tinystar's orders apply to every cat, not just the warriors - no one is to go out alone," Mistyfoot meowed. Her tone was casually concerned and friendly, but Shadepool just couldn't take comfort in it right now.

The blue-gray she-cat tipped her head back towards the camp. "We need to head home. If we hurry, no one will have missed us."

She led the way deeper into the forest, picking carefully through the snow to take the safest paths. Nightfrost was at her side, but his head was low and his tail was almost dragging a trail through the powder. Shadepool stayed back a pace, feeling numb - all her joy at seeing Crowflight had slipped through her paws as if she'd tried to grab at fog.

She felt her brother press against her, gently prodding, trying to see if she was receptive to some form of apology or discussion - Shadepool threw up her walls and wrapped them in the sharpest thorns she could imagine. Up ahead, Nightfrost winced again, as if he'd trod on one of the barbs, and Shadepool felt him retreat, defeated.

Serves you right, she thought bitterly.

"Everything okay?" Mistyfoot murmured, looking at Nightfrost. Her gaze was worried, touched with what looked like a quiet sort of affection. "I thought I heard arguing..."

"It's nothing," Nightfrost responded. He was trying to sound normal, almost too much so. He waved his tail. "Don't worry about it one bit!"

Mistyfoot glanced back at Shadepool, looking unconvinced. At least it didn't seem like she knew about the meeting with Crowflight - Shadepool was certain she'd have no reservations about voicing her opinion, too.

She's not like that, and you know it, some part of Shadepool snapped.

Shadepool knew that was true; Mistyfoot was a kind, caring cat, and a strong warrior - probably one of the best ThunderClan had at the moment. StarClan had chosen her out of all of ThunderClan to find the lake territories, and she had proven herself worthy of that honor time and again.

It wasn't like Mistyfoot wouldn't understand, either - along that journey, she had fallen in love with Stormfur, a RiverClan cat. He'd died defending the Tribe of Rushing Water from the beast Sharptooth. She knew what it was like to have these sorts of feelings for a cat from another Clan, even if it had ended before it began.

But, as much as Shadepool wanted to seek comfort in Mistyfoot, she felt unwelcome. The way that Mistyfoot looked at Nightfrost now, the private conversations they shared on their patrols and meals and their little nighttime hunts were from a world that Shadepool didn't belong to. Seeing Nightfrost gaze back at Mistyfoot with so much adoration made Shadepool's stomach almost sick.

It was no secret how they felt about one another - and they didn't have to keep it secret.

Shadepool couldn't help the bitter thoughts. Trapped in her own mind by that wall of thorns, she let them wash over her. How unfair was it that medicine cats couldn't have mates? That she had to sneak around, constantly in fear of punishment, while Mistyfoot and Nightfrost could keep themselves secret just for fun! That how, no matter what she did, Shadepool was always doing something wrong in some cat's eyes!

Crowflight never told me I was wrong, not when I wasn't, she thought, her mind filling up with more and more thorns. He never treats me like I'm some bothersome kit or thoughtless apprentice!

They reached the ThunderClan camp as dawn was breaking, the pale purple light climbing between the leafless trees. A breeze rattled through the leafless branches, sweeping cold air along Shadepool's back. She shivered, longing for Crowflight's warmth in this seemingly endless and oppressive leafbare.

Mistyfoot slipped into camp, her pelt brushing against the thorny entrance. Nightfrost hesitated in following her, glancing back at Shadepool.

"Shade, I'm sorry," he murmured. He looked intensely uncomfortable, as if the thorns between them were buried beneath his pelt. "Please, don't shut me out like this."

Shadepool pushed past her brother. "You don't get to tell me that all I do is cause problems and then just beg for forgiveness right after," she hissed. She felt fury prickling its hot claws beneath her skin again. "Everything I have ever done has been for the sake of all the Clans, and ThunderClan most of all."

"I don't think seeing Crowflight is good for ThunderClan or WindClan. Or you. Not right now," Nightfrost countered. He looked at her plaintively. "I'm just worried about you, Shadepool."

Shadepool was conscious that they were right outside of camp. If she blew up on her brother here, every cat in the Clan would hear them and wonder what was happening.

"Why don't you worry about Mistyfoot instead, since you can't bear to be without her," Shadepool growled bitterly. "Leave me out of it."

She heard Nightfrost hiss, but Shadepool pressed past him and slipped into the thorn tunnel. Once again, she felt Nightfrost try and reach her - in response, Shadepool added another layer of thorns to her barrier. Nightfrost retreated and did not try again - or, perhaps, Shadepool just couldn't feel his attempts any more.

Most cats weren't awake yet in camp, not even for the dawn patrol - Shadepool was able to slip past the warrior's den and into her nest just outside the medicine cat's cave without disturbing anyone. She circled in the bracken and ferns and laid down, resting her tail over her muzzle to block the icy chill that not even a wall of tightly-woven ivy could block.

She reached around the wall of thorns and tried to feel for Nightfrost, but found him muted, silent; as if he, too, had thrown up his own barrier to keep her out. It was so quiet, now, and lonely; as if Nightfrost were in the old forest territories over the mountains instead of just in the warrior's den a few paces away.

Shadepool closed her eyes, her stomach unsettled.

———————————————————

"Shadepool! Mind if I join you?"

Shadepool fought a yawn. "Sure, Graystripe," she meowed.

The older warrior settled down close by, planting a fat squirrel between his paws. As he worked on his breakfast, Shadepool tried to finish her wash.

It had been two days since her meeting with Crowflight and her argument with Nightfrost, and it felt like Shadepool was still sleeping it off. She couldn't help but glance at Graystripe and wonder how he used to do it, hauling himself into RiverClan territory almost every day to meet Silverstream all those seasons ago when she still lived across the river.

He must have managed it somehow, Shadepool decided. After all, the two are still together to this day...

"Want some?" Graystripe asked, nodding at his squirrel.

Shadepool shook her head. "I had something earlier," she answered. "Thank you, though."

Graystripe looked at her kindly. "Sorry for intruding, but it just felt strange seeing you sitting alone," he admitted. He used a claw to move some bits of the squirrel around. "Figured you could use some company."

Shadepool wasn't sure what to say. It was an honor to have a senior warrior like Graystripe offer to sit with her, but she couldn't help but be somewhat annoyed at the root cause: her fight with Nightfrost. While the details were not public knowledge, it was very obvious to just about every cat in the Clan that they weren't on speaking terms. Shadepool's pelt prickled with embarrassment.

"Littermates fight all the time," Graystripe reasoned good-naturedly. He licked a bit of blood from his muzzle. "Not that I would know myself, I didn't have any littermates! But, whatever's going on with you and Nightfrost, it'll be soon resolved, and you'll be eating together just like old times.”

Shadepool knew he was being kind, but the thorns gripping her mind at the moment made his idea seem dreamy and far away, not to mention a little patronizing. "Why aren't you eating with Tinystar?” she asked.

His tail swished. "Truth be told, Tinystar's part of the reason I'm here."

"Oh?" Shadepool tipped her head. "Is he okay?" Graystripe and Tinystar had been friends since Tinystar had come to the Clans in the old forest, fighting together through thick and thin. The long-furred warrior even took to Tinystar's den on the colder nights, to help keep him warm. What was happening between them?

“Yes and no,” Graystripe sighed.

Admittedly, Shadepool been too distracted to look in on her father since the Gathering. She felt a flash of guilt. It wasn't even Crowflight's fault - medicine cats spent most of leafbare trying to stave off any sniffle, sneeze, cut, or scrape before they turned sour; and it was worse now than in the old forest - arriving at the lake in leafbare meant that medicine cats didn't have a proper stock of even the most basic herbs to fall back on in tough times, and plants that grew in leafbare were few and far between.

"He's not sick, but he's not well, either, if you catch my meaning," Graystripe explained. He glanced about the camp as if looking for listeners before he went on: "Ever since Onewhisker's death was announced, Tinystar's not been himself."

"How so?" Concern crept into Shadepool's pelt, cold as icemelt.

"Well, he's lost a lot of friends these past seasons," Graystripe reasoned carefully, his gaze turning reflective. "He had to leave Oakheart behind, and Sandstorm was taken - we don't know if either of them are alive, and we might never know.  Not to mention all the cats he's lost in the past, like Tigerstar and Whitestorm.” He sighed. “Now Tallstar and Onewhisker are dead, too."

Shadepool felt sorrow threaten to fill her up, unable to seep between the tight thorns in her mind. She knew that losing Oakheart and Sandstorm had hurt her father dearly - it had hurt Nightfrost and Shadepool, too. But she hadn't imagined just how much collective loss her father was enduring, and how rapidly it was building up.

"I've been keeping an eye on him," Graystripe murmured, his yellow eyes soft, "but he's barely eating, and he's having a hard time sleeping, too. He's had to be strong for the sake of the Clan for so long, but I don't think he can keep it up anymore."

Shadepool shivered. Her father was the leader of the Clan, its backbone, its heart - he was all things ThunderClan, and a hero to the other Clans besides. Now, she trembled at the thought of the strongest cat she knew being so reduced in his grief.

"Silverstream was like that for a while, after we lost Icekit seasons ago," Graystripe admitted. "She blamed herself. It eased, after a time, but time isn't exactly on our side with WindClan breathing down our necks."

Shadepool nodded in understanding. She took a deep breath - she had to set aside that this was her father and think of what would be best for him, same as any other cat in her care. It was always far more difficult than it seemed.

"There isn't any herb that can heal the heart," Shadepool told Graystripe. He nodded - he knew. Shadepool searched her knowledge and mewed on, "I also don't know of any herb to give him an appetite that we have in stock right now. Perhaps, though, we can at least get him some sleep - that might help."

Graystripe looked at her gratefully. "What do you want to do?" he asked.

Shadepool thought about it some more. "Tinystar is a small cat, so perhaps just one poppy seed, right before he sleeps?"

"Do we have enough poppy seed to do that?" Graystripe wondered.

Shadepool frowned. "Let me check."

She left Graystripe and headed into the medicine cat's cave. She and Brackenfur had found this place after Dustpelt's bush-clearing teams had torn down a thick tangle of ivy from the stone walls that ran along the camp.

The cave ran deep into the hill, the rock walls cut through by a stream from above that trickled in at the farthest end. There was plenty of room for several patients and a nest for Brackenfur near the pool, and it was always warm and dry inside, even during a blizzard. Brackenfur was still in his nest at the far side of the cave, dozing.

Shadepool slipped into a crack in the wall, her pawsteps light. This secondary cave was unnatural, likely made by Twolegs, if she were to guess - it was a small hollow, with the stone within cut almost into staggered steps. Here was where they stored what few herbs they'd managed to find in the leafbare cold - mainly juniper and sweet-sedge, but there were some sorrel and oak leaves, and a few bits of sage that looked on their last legs.

Shadepool sniffed. She found their supply of poppy at the far end, and she felt with her paw in the gloom. They had managed to gather some just before the first frost killed the whole supply. Only one poppy head remained, now, its seeds old and petals dried to a crisp; but it would still provide a cat as small as Tinystar with some relief.

She brought out the head and began counting the seeds in the light. Enough to perhaps get him into newleaf, she thought, staring carefully at the head. Maybe he'll start sleeping more peacefully before then, too...

"What's this?" Brackenfur's voice rasped from the far end of the cave.

Careful not to scatter the seeds, Shadepool lifted her head and explained her plan to Brackenfur, along with Graystripe's concerns. At first, she thought he might see the sense, but he shook his head and sighed.

"We can't just drain our supply like that, Shadepool," he told her with a heavy voice. Brackenfur got up from his nest and stretched. When he was done, he reasoned, "What if some cat needs more than one seed before the poppies grow again?"

"Tinystar needs sleep now," Shadepool argued. She gestured to the poppy head. "There's more than enough here to give him just one a night, for the time being."

Brackenfur's whiskers twitched. He came over, favoring his leg, and sniffed at the poppy head. Shadepool's pelt prickled again - was he counting them? She had just done that!

"One a night, for three nights," Brackenfur amended gently, lifting his muzzle. "If his sleep hasn't improved, then one every other night, until it does." He lifted his tail for silence before Shadepool could protest: "Tinystar needs to come through this on his own eventually, and he can't if he's leaning too much on the poppy seeds."

That Shadepool knew she had to agree with. Poppy seed was an addictive substance if taken too many times for too long, and she had heard stories from the elders about some cats changing their personalities entirely for want of it. Tinystar's doses needed to be carefully monitored, especially for a cat that small.

"I'll prepare his medicine," Brackenfur told her. "Go on and tell Graystripe - and get me something to eat, hm?"

Shadepool dipped her head. At least he hadn't dismissed her idea outright - though it annoyed her to be corrected, she knew she might've been desperate because it concerned her father. She stepped carefully around the poppy head, letting Brackenfur get to work while she slipped outside, into the cold.

In the clearing, Graystripe was chatting with none other than Tinystar. Shadepool froze, shocked - did her father know what the medicine cats and Graystripe had planned? Would he be angry? However, it seemed like Graystripe was talking about totally normal Clan business:

"Ashfur says that Larchpaw is coming along well," the older warrior was mewing. "He's out hunting with him now."

"Away from the WindClan border, right?" Tinystar's gaze was intense, and Shadepool knew his worry - the last thing a new apprentice needed was to be ambushed by enemy warriors, especially a new apprentice who was half-deaf. Though WindClan had been quiet since the Gathering, there was no telling what they had planned.

"They're clear on the opposite end of the forest, don't worry," Graystripe purred. He flicked his tail. "Ashfur says he wants to assess Larchpaw's hunting techniques before he goes on to battle training. Y'know, make sure he knows the basics and all that..." He feigned scraping a claw through the air, grinning when his eye caught on Shadepool: "Ah! There you are."

Shadepool felt awkward now, caught out like a mouse in a field. She glanced between her father and Graystripe, unsure of who to address, or what to talk about.

"How's that thing we discussed?" Graystripe asked.

Shadepool blinked. "It's, ah, fine," she answered. She couldn't help but feel a little awkward. "Brackenfur is handling it."

Graystripe nodded and gave Tinystar a nudge. "You'll sleep easy in no time," he purred. "See you tonight?"

Tinystar nodded, looking grateful. Shadepool sighed - so he did know, and knew well enough that it was a problem that needed attending to.

He probably just didn't think he should come to us about it directly. Shadepool almost wanted to cuff her father over the ear for being so stubborn.

Graystripe got up and walked away, heading for the nursery where Silverstream was working with Dustpelt, threading more brambles to reinforce the roof before another blizzard knocked it down. Graystripe licked his mate between the ears and settled beside her to lend his paws.

Shadepool was left alone with her father and found herself examining him. His head was low, and his tail drooped, dragging on the ground. She could pick out his shoulders, sharp against the rest of him - no visible ribs yet, though. His ice-blue eyes were normally so intense they hurt to look into, but they seemed dull, now. Tired. Her father was skirting the edge of some slippery slope.

"He's concerned," Tinystar meowed as if he sensed her gaze. Shadepool frowned - he even sounded like he hadn't slept in a season. Tinystar heaved a sigh. "I suppose I need at least one cat looking out for me, these days."

"We're all here for you, Father," Shadepool meowed reassuringly. Her heart ached terribly for him. "Anything you need, anything at all - just ask."

Tinystar smiled, his whiskers twitching. There was a bit of light in his eyes when he looked at her - the love of a father - but it faded quickly. Shadepool wondered when it was she'd last seen her father truly happy, and the realization cut her deeply. It was probably back in the old forest, before the Twolegs came and uprooted their entire existence.

"I need to speak with you," Tinystar stated. His shoulders squared, his gaze turning thoughtful. "You and Brackenfur, both."

Shadepool's heart began beating more rapidly. "About what?" she queried, wondering how she could head this off - her father was known for rash decision-making. Though it came from his heart, and it was what he thought was best, right now might not be the right climate for one of Tinystar's famous ideas, especially if he wasn't sleeping well.

He shook his head, impatient. "It's important," Tinystar insisted.

There was some new intensity in her father's gaze, and Shadepool suppressed a shiver at its suddenness. She flicked her tail back to the cave and mewed, "Brackenfur is just inside. He's asked for a piece of fresh-kill, so I'll be right in."

Tinystar nodded his head gratefully and slipped past her. Shadepool let herself shiver, and she headed across the clearing to the fresh-kill pile on quick paws, worry bubbling up.

When a leader wanted to have a private discussion with their medicine cats, it was rarely ever simple.