[TB] TWILIGHT -- Chapter 6 (Patreon)

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Shadepool slipped into the medicine cat's cave, a pair of mice in her jaws, just in time to see Tinystar and Brackenfur settling in to talk. Ears pricked, she padded further into the cave, her eyes needing a moment to adjust to the gloom after the bright, searing white snow outside.

She laid the mice beside Brackenfur's paws. Her mentor nodded his thanks and dragged them close, giving them each a cautious sniff before he hunkered down to eat. His twisted leg stuck out at an awkward angle, the fur of it still unwashed.

Shadepool settled down a pace away, heart thudding in her chest as she curled her tail around her paws. Her ear-tips tingled - would Brackenfur try to shoo her out of the den, like he always did for discussions like these? But he hadn't made a move to do so yet.

Tinystar glanced at the medicine cat's scarred limb. “How are you faring? This leafbare has been harsher and colder than we've been used to.”

Brackenfur flicked an ear dismissively. “Fine,” he rasped. “Hurts now and then, but it always does.” Despite that, he tried his best to tuck his leg in closer to his body. Shadepool did not miss the wince of pain on her mentor's face.

“That's good to hear, I suppose,” Tinystar sighed. He looked down at Brackenfur fondly, with some worry; Shadepool knew that her father had never stopped thinking of her mentor as his old apprentice.

“Are you going to talk around me until I'm dizzy, or come out with it?” Brackenfur tore at one of the mice, pinning it with a paw. Licking his whiskers of blood, he mewed, “Go on already.”

Shadepool's whiskers twitched with amusement, and Tinystar looked comforted. Yellowfang, Brackenfur's mentor, had been a crotchety old she-cat with a sharp tongue, and very close to both her apprentice and Tinystar. It was always strange to hear the usually calm and collected Brackenfur speak with some bite, but that was when Shadepool liked talking with him most.

“I'm going to the Moonpool,” Tinystar announced.

Shadepool blinked at her father, surprised. Leaders often went to the Moonstone in the old forest to seek StarClan's guidance, but they were never obligated to do so, not like medicine cats were at the half-moon.

Brackenfur lifted his head, his eyes narrowing. “No, you are not,” he decided.

Tinystar's tail swished, and his eyes narrowed a touch. “And what makes you think you can stop me?” he asked.

“Because you came here to ask me for permission,” Brackenfur pointed out, unfazed. His tail slapped against the cool stone floor of the den. “If you didn't feel any qualms about going, you'd have gone; we both know that. You've got something bugging you, and that's why you're here and not halfway to the Moonpool already.”

Shadepool glanced at Brackenfur. She felt a twinge of admiration - he had read her father so easily and was even unafraid to point it out to him. Though this skill of his was often frustrating for Shadepool, she couldn't help but wish it had rubbed off on her. Reading others was always so difficult.

Tinystar's whiskers twitched. “You've got me,” he admitted, sighing. He sat on his haunches, staring Brackenfur in the eye. “I want to find Onewhisker's spirit, and talk to him there.”

Shadepool's ears pricked. That's smart! She had imagined trying to enter Barkface's dreams at the next Moonpool meeting, but she hadn't thought of trying to find Onewhisker among the stars - it was easy to assume he wouldn't speak to her, but he and Tinystar had been very close friends almost their entire lives. It was possible they could have a discussion.

“That could work,” she agreed. Glancing at Brackenfur, she added, “We could get answers!”

Tinystar nodded along. “That was the idea,” he admitted. “But I'm not sure how to go about looking for someone specific in StarClan's hunting grounds. I've never freely traversed it.”

Brackenfur took a long moment to chew on his bit of mouse. He was thinking, Shadepool knew, but in what direction?

Finally, Brackenfur swallowed. He wiped his muzzle with a paw and mewed matter-of-factly, “You cannot control whom you see or where you go in StarClan's hunting grounds. You see what they wish you to see.”

Tinystar didn't look convinced. “I've always had a strong connection-”

“That doesn't matter,” Brackenfur put in. “Where you go in StarClan isn't determined by you, it's determined by them. They control the path your paws take, and they guide you to whoever is willing to aid you.”

Shadepool tipped her head, slightly. That was somewhat true - most cats couldn't control where they went in their dreams - but Shadepool herself knew that if she concentrated hard enough, she could step away from those boundaries. Was this something that Brackenfur couldn't do?

“They'll know I'm coming to speak with Onewhisker,” Tinystar pointed out. “Won't they?”

“They will,” Brackenfur agreed, “for they know our hearts - but that doesn't mean Onewhisker will want to see you.”

Tinystar's muzzle twisted in confusion. “Why wouldn't he want to see me?”

“There could be many reasons,” Brackenfur answered plainly, “but this one most of all: If a ThunderClan cat did kill him, why would he want to talk to any one of us?”

“So that he could tell me who did it, and I can bring them to justice!” Tinystar countered. “He would know that's what I want!”

“And if he didn't see them?” Brackenfur tilted his brow. “If Mudstar knew the name of the cat that had attacked them, he would've called them out at the Gathering - but the attacker's scent couldn't be placed to any one ThunderClan cat. It was masked.”

“But Onewhisker might still have information - the worst he could do is just send Tinystar away,” Shadepool pointed out. Boldly, she stood on her paws and offered, “I could go with him, guide him through StarClan-”

Brackenfur's eyes flashed, and he snapped, “No!”

Shadepool shut her jaws, frustrated. She glanced at her father, who was just as surprised at the medicine cat's harsh tone.

Brackenfur sighed. “My apologies,” he murmured. He glanced down at the mice in between his paws, and then, after a moment, looked back up at Shadepool and Tinystar.

“Please understand,” Brackenfur mewed quietly. “Onewhisker and Barkface were attacked on their way to the Moonpool. Onewhisker was killed, and violently so. Whoever did this might still be out there, hunting for another easy victim. We cannot risk this.”

Tinystar narrowed his eyes. “I can handle anything in my way,” he meowed gravely. “I have more than one life to spare.”

“You say that as if we haven't seen nine whole lives disappear in an instant before!” Brackenfur countered, his shoulders hunched sharply. His muzzle curled around his teeth uncharacteristically. “When you've run out your lives recklessly pursuing this answer, where will ThunderClan be then?”

Shadepool felt a lump in her throat. While she didn't agree with Brackenfur entirely, she understood now his strong reaction - if Tinystar were to somehow lose all his lives, ThunderClan would be left without a leader. With no deputy to replace him...

ThunderClan would be all but gone.

Tinystar's expression said everything - he knew all this, too. But still, he raised his chin and meowed, “If this accusation stands, and WindClan goes to war with us, many more lives will be lost. I can't do nothing Brackenfur.”

The ThunderClan leader sighed. “If I can't go to the Moonpool,  what can I do?”

Brackenfur stared at Tinystar with sympathy. “Have faith,” he said, calmly and coolly. He tilted his muzzle up to the ceiling of the cave, where there was a hole to the outside that let in fresh air and a little creek water.

“StarClan will guide you,” Brackenfur assured, “as they guide us all.”

Shadepool glanced out the ceiling of the cave and frowned. Brackenfur was right, of course, and StarClan would guide them as they could, but how long would that take? They couldn't fumble about with no answers, not forever. Someone would have to take the risk, eventually.

“What if we investigated the attack site ourselves?” Shadepool suggested. She glanced between Tinystar and Brackenfur. “It wasn't at the Moonpool nor was it on WindClan territory - if we take a full patrol, we'd be safe from just about anything.”

Tinystar flicked an ear. “There's an idea!” he agreed. His eyes shone, and his tone was hopeful, eager: “It's been some days, but if the attack was so vicious as Mudstar said, there has to be something left behind!”

“If any cat can find hidden clues, it's Cloudtail! She has the best nose in the Clan!” Shadepool pointed out. Her heart raced eagerly as she looked to Brackenfur, wondering his opinion.

The golden-brown tom's expression was unreadable, and Shadepool frowned once more, her excitement and hope dying. She could see it in his eyes - he was gearing up some excuse to tear down her idea. Any moment now he would make her feel like a kit fresh out of the nursery, and right in front of her father.

“Go,” the medicine cat rasped.

Shadepool stared at her mentor, shocked. Was he agreeing with her? The last time this had happened, Shadepool had been pleading with Tinystar to aid WindClan against Mudstar's coup - he hadn't known that she had fudged some details about the sign she had seen, that it had been a season ago and not at the Moonpool as she had claimed; but he had still supported her.

Did he finally have faith in her?

“Be careful, though,” Brackenfur urged. “The attackers may yet return.”

Tinystar dipped his head in appreciation. “If they do, they'll be in for a nasty surprise.” He looked and Shadepool and mewed, “I'll be getting together a patrol, and we'll leave immediately.”

“I'll be there,” Shadepool breathed, her chest swelling with pride. Not only was Brackenfur agreeing with her, but she was going on a mission with her father!

And, if I'm lucky, I might see Crowflight! The thought made her paws tingle as she watched her father leave the den.

“Shadepool.”

Shadepool gave her head a shake, caught briefly in her own ideas. She glanced over her shoulder at Brackenfur and found that he was staring at her with an unusual intensity.

She felt her fur prickle uncomfortably. “What is it?” she asked.

Brackenfur's muzzle twitched, as if he were struggling with the words he wanted to use. He finally managed, “Keep your wits about you. There's no telling what you might find.”

“I will,” Shadepool promised.

“StarClan guide you,” Brackenfur mumbled, lowering his muzzle. “StarClan keep you.”

He looked like he might keep eating his mice, but he did not. Something was unsettling about Brackenfur's demeanor, and Shadepool wondered for a moment if he was feeling well - but she didn't have time to ask. She could hear her father yowling her name outside the cave.

She had to leave her mentor there, alone in the shadows, and pursue the truth.