[TB] TWILIGHT -- Chapter 9 (Patreon)

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It was dark by the time they returned to camp. The journey was done in a simmering silence, each cat fuming with frustration and anger and, in Shadepool's case, a swirl of confusion and hurt that gripped her chest tightly with cold claws and refused to let go.

She was happy to be walking, for it hid the tremble in her pawsteps. She was happy each cat wore a similar frustrated, annoyed expression - it saved them from guessing what the others were thinking about.

Her relationship with Crowflight was making things far harder than she had ever anticipated, and she couldn't even share her fears with Nightfrost, now, like she always had - they were her own, trapped in her mind and eating away at her nerves. Were the walls she'd thrown up bothering Nightfrost, too? How was he coping, being so alone?

As they slipped into the thorn tunnel, they found Mistyfoot waiting for them in the center of the clearing, her fur lit silver by the waning moonlight. She was with Mousefur and a few other warriors, Nightfrost included. When Shadepool tried to meet his eye, he looked away, and that sense of prickling claustrophobia strengthened.

“Well?” Mistyfoot mewed, looking upon the patrol with eager, yet worried, eyes, “What did you find?”

“Ornery WindClan cats!” Cloudtail spat, her white tail fluffed.

Mousefur frowned. Her pale gaze flickered over each cat. “Was there a fight?”

“None of you look too happy,” Nightfrost added, his tone cautious.

“If I get my claws into that Emberstep, I'll tear out her whiskers!” Sootfur seethed, his claws ripping at the cold, hard ground.

“Enough,” Tinystar's tired voice ordered. He turned his head to Mistyfoot, and he recounted the events at the ambush site. As he spoke, more and more cats woke, made aware of the noises in the clearing. Suddenly, the entire Clan was sitting around Tinystar, listening, and when he reached the end, they all seemed just as frustrated as the cats who had been there.

“So they're just going to ignore what you found?” Whitewing breathed, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Typical WindClan!” Dustpelt hissed. “Too proud to see beyond their noses, and Mudstar is going to make that even worse.”

Longtail groaned. “And I thought I was the blind one...”

“I do understand where they're coming from, somewhat,” Mistyfoot reasoned, her gaze troubled, “but I can't just believe that Crowflight wouldn't listen at all!”

“He might've journeyed with you, but he's a WindClan cat, through and through,” Cinderpelt remarked bitterly. Her tail lashed. “He practically let his Clanmates attack us!”

Shadepool's neck fur rose. “He did not!” she burst. Stiff-legged under the eyes of her own Clanmates, she retorted, “Emberstep was the one spoiling for a fight - if she weren't there, Crowflight would've been able to listen to us!”

The Clan fell into an uncomfortable silence, and Shadepool felt all their eyes on her. She felt hot with embarrassment and annoyance at the same time. Her Clanmates were surely judging her for defending Crowflight so fiercely. She swallowed and scolded herself: You've got to be better about hiding it, even a little bit!

She flattened her ears and meowed on, staring at her father imploringly: “Every cat is saying that he's a terrible deputy because he's young, or inexperienced - regardless of what's true there, he has to follow his Clanmate's wishes and look strong!”

You know what that's like! She thought, looking into her father's eyes. There was understanding reflected there, in his tired ice-blue gaze. A worm of worry wiggled in her belly. I just hope that's the truth!

After a moment, Rainwhisker mumbled, “I guess that does make some sense...”

“Doesn't make him any less of a fox-heart, though,” Swiftfoot countered. The scarred warrior's muzzle lifted, exposing his teeth. “He should be able to stand up for his beliefs, whether we all like that he's deputy or not. He's a coward otherwise.”

Shadepool swallowed, floundering for a response.

“She's just trying to be understanding,” Nightfrost put in. “Crowflight is in a difficult spot, and we need to acknowledge that, too.”

He glanced at her, and Shadepool smiled, feeling relieved - perhaps he wasn't as upset with her as she thought - until she saw Mistyfoot beside him, nodding in agreement. A bitter worm wiggled in Shadepool's belly.

Of course he would agree with her. She sighed inwardly. I'm the one that's alone, here.

“If there's anything I know about Crowflight, it's that he's not a coward,” Mistyfoot agreed. “We're talking about a cat that has risked everything for the sake of all the Clans - even coming to us for help when WindClan was divided was a huge act of courage.”

A few cats did mumble in agreement with Mistyfoot on that - though Shadepool noted that the numbers weren't exactly even. The cats that doubted Crowflight far outnumbered the ones that were willing to give him some benefit of the doubt. And why should they? He was an enemy warrior! Shadepool shifted on her paws uncomfortably.

“Regardless,” Graystripe rasped, “we're no better off than we were before, are we?”

The Clan grew silent once more, and Shadepool swallowed. That much was true - their journey to find any sort of answers had amounted to nothing. She glanced through the crowd and saw Brackenfur, right at the very edge - he hadn't said anything, but she guessed he was thinking about what a waste of time her idea had been. The thorns in her mind tightened.

“Graystripe is right, unfortunately,” Tinystar meowed, his quiet voice bouncing off of the walls of stone surrounding them. “We found nothing conclusive. Our preparations must continue in earnest.”

Shadepool felt her Clanmates shuffle around her. Spiderpaw glanced worriedly at Cinderpelt and Dustpelt. Brightheart's tail wrapped tight around her paws, and Whitewing trembled. Beside them, Longtail looked nervous, his claws flexing. Even Swiftfoot, who enjoyed battle, looked uncomfortable.

“Dustpelt, I want you and Snowstep to work on strengthening the outer defenses,” Tinystar meowed. Dustpelt nodded. Tinystar's head swung around to Mistyfoot. “I want you to make sure every warrior is refreshed on their combat training. Have Swiftfoot help you.”

Mistyfoot's eyes flew wide, and Shadepool could almost hear her heart pounding - what a responsibility, to give to a young warrior!

“O-Of course!” Mistyfoot agreed. She dipped her muzzle deeply. “You won't be disappointed, Tinystar.”

Tinystar turned to Cinderpelt. “You and Graystripe will handle patrols. Make sure every cat has time for their other duties.”

“Will do!” Graystripe purred, puffing his chest. Shadepool guessed he was trying to look optimistic for everyone else's sake - typical Graystripe behavior.

“Everyone,” Tinystar meowed, his voice high and clear, “get some sleep. Dawn is a new day, and I want us all fresh for whatever is to come.”

The Clan seemed a strange mix of rallied and worried as they parted. Sun and Sorreltail bent their heads close as they trailed off toward the warrior's den. Sootfur left with Ashfur, complaining loudly about bad WindClan manners, while Rainwhisker approached Nightfrost and mewed something to him that made his tail twist.

Shadepool frowned. Normally, she wouldn't have to guess what her brother had just heard, or even look at him to see his whiskers twitching to understand that Rainwhisker had said something embarrassing. His words would've come into her mind as the images they brought to Nightfrost. Now, though, her mind reeled at the possibility of what they were talking about.

Bitter claws clenched her throat. When did they become so buddy-buddy?

“Shade.”

Shadepool blinked and saw that her father was staring at her expectantly. Her ears pricked, and she mewed, “What is it?”

“Are you all right?” Tinystar asked. His head tilted. “You look like you've swallowed a bee.”

Shadepool's pelt prickled. “It's nothing,” she said, quickly. It wasn't hard to find an excuse for her behavior: “I just wish we'd gotten a chance to see into where Barkface had hidden. I didn't get to squeeze in before everyone started arguing.”

Tinystar sighed. “Me, too,” he admitted, “but I don't think it would've changed anything, even if we had found something. WindClan seems intent on believing that we did this.”

“But what if there was solid proof down there?” Shadepool wondered. She shifted on her paws, feeling restless, wanting to be away from her brother. “I could go back and look - just me! No one would know!”

“No,” Tinystar said, immediately.

“But-”

“They've made it very clear that we're not wanted there, Shadepool,” Tinystar insisted. His eyes narrowed to icy slits. “Crossing that boundary might just spark the war that Mudstar is looking for.”

“It's not even on their territory, though!”

Tinystar lashed his tail. “I said no, Shadepool,” he hissed. “I will not put any of my cats in danger chasing this anymore!” He trembled, and his gaze softened. “I don't want to lose anyone else.”

Shadepool sighed, resigned, and then touched her nose to her father's forehead. “I'm sorry, Father,” she murmured.

“Don't make me worry for you, too,” Tinystar breathed, his tone quiet and worried. “I don't think I could bear it.”

Her father stepped away and headed for the Highledge. Graystripe followed at a quick trot, likely to offer Tinystar some shelter from the cold - but he was turned away. The gray warrior sighed and slunk to the warrior's den, Silverstream following with a twitching tail.

Shadepool wrapped her tail around her paws, her mind troubled. She ought to be exhausted, but she just wasn't tired - instead, she watched her Clanmates head off to sleep, all but Mousefur, who seemed to have taken the watch tonight. The small brown she-cat all but blended into the fallen tree when she positioned herself on its trunk.

It wasn't until the last cats disappeared into their dens that Shadepool felt Brackenfur sit beside her. Despite his closeness, she felt alone.

“I'm sorry that you didn't find what you were looking for,” Brackenfur mewed quietly.

Shadepool hunched her shoulders. “If I could just go back...”

She felt his tail-tip touch her flank. “Your father worries enough already,” Brackenfur said calmly. “Don't do that to him.”

Shadepool had expected him to say as much, but she was still disappointed - in herself, mainly, but also somewhat in Crowflight. She wished that he had been able to see the truth in what they had found. Perhaps then it wouldn't have been for nothing.

“Come and rest,” Brackenfur told her. His voice was kind. “Today was warmer than yesterday. Leafbare will be ending soon, and there is much to do in preparation for the coming days.”

“Yes, Brackenfur.”

She got to her paws and followed him back to the medicine cat's den. While he slipped into the cave to settle in his own nest, Shadepool turned circles in her moss and bracken until she felt dizzy. When she finally settled, she still didn't feel tired, but she laid her chin on the edge of her nest and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would find her regardless.

———————————————————

When she opened her eyes, she was not in her nest, but in the hollow of old badger sets where Onewhisker and Barkface had been ambushed. She felt the faint tug of air in her pelt as she looked around in surprise - she was dreaming!

Shadepool could sense that this dream was thin and fragile; if she traveled beyond its borders, it would be gone in a flash. Even the colors seemed strained, fuzzy, muted, and faded, and Shadepool could swear that she could see interlaced thorns rising into the sky, touching the stars, obfuscated by clouds as fuzzy as duck-down feathers. There was no mistaking where she had ended up, however.

Why am I here? she wondered. She felt unsure whether or not this was a normal dream, since she had such awareness - was this some sort of sign from StarClan?

Shadepool searched the hollow to the best of her ability, with eyes and nose, but it seemed like everything was as it had been just a few hours ago - even the fresh claw marks made by Cloudtail were there. The place was strangely cold and utterly scentless, even when Shadepool strained every sense to learn why she had dreamed herself here. It was as if the world had been sapped of all life.

Confused, she looked at the boulder - the one that Barkface had reportedly slipped underneath.

The bleak darkness beneath the stone was, ironically, the most vibrant thing in the dream, drawing her eye. Shadepool crept near, her heart thudding in her ears and nerves tingling. There had to be something there, for sure, if this dream was pulling her towards it.

She crouched down and saw nothing but darkness - but something faint brushed against her whiskers, the slightest of breezes that she would only be able to feel in this still, stagnant dream. She couldn't pinpoint any exact scents, but there was something...

Shadepool reached out a paw into the black, shivering as her white paw was utterly swallowed. She felt nothing - not grass or stone, but free air against her pads, as if beneath the boulder was not earth, but just a yawning absence. A tremble ran up her spine at the sensation.

She pulled her paw back and stepped away from the stone. As she did, a flash of white caught her eye from above - atop the stone was the white cat, the one that glowed as if it were made of moonlight.

Shadepool halted, eyes wide. She had never been this close to this creature before. It had no definite limbs, nor did it even have a defined face to speak of - it seemed as if it were made of raw moonlight bent into the shape of a cat, and where its eyes should have been were round orbs of black, swirling with all the stars of Silverpelt. Shadepool felt dizzy looking into them.

“W-Who are you?” Shadepool asked when she found her voice.

The white cat did not respond.

Shadepool glanced down at the boulder, then back up - surprised that the cat was still there. Usually, it disappeared as if it were a figment of Shadepool's imagination. If it was still here, then...

“We did miss something, didn't we?” she guessed. The cat wasn't making any moves, so she felt emboldened despite the cold terror in her bones - something about this creature made her feel very strange, almost unwanted. As if Shadepool shouldn't be seeing it at all.

“Am I supposed to go back?” she asked. Hesitantly, she added, “Tinystar said not to, and a Clan leader's word is law.”

The white cat blinked. For one brief instant, it was just a thing made of pure white light. Then, the stars returned - but it still offered no answer, nor was its presence a comfort.

Unsettled, Shadepool stepped back - only to feel something sharp prick her backside. She turned and found that the wall of thorns she had thought she'd seen obscured by clouds was now close enough to touch, and it was only further encroaching, swallowing the dream in its grasp.

Shadepool turned back to the white cat, mouth open to beg for help, for any sort of answer to her questions - but the creature was gone, and a deep darkness was seeping up and up from the void beneath the boulder.

Trapped, Shadepool could do nothing but yowl as the thorns closed in, and the darkness swallowed her whole.