[TB] TWILIGHT -- Chapter 10 (Patreon)

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Shadepool woke to a cold droplet landing on her nose.

Her eyes flung open in shock at such a mundane sensation - it was nothing compared to the ominous terror that was her dream. The thorny walls shrouded in pale mist, the white cat's silent presence, the seeping darkness coming from the hole... Just thinking about it again made Shadepool's stomach clench tight.

What am I supposed to do? she thought, rubbing her nose with a paw. Does StarClan want me to go back? What kind of dream was that, anyway? I've never seen that white cat before in StarClan...

She had always had a strong connection to her warrior ancestors and their astral plane of existence ever since she was small, but never in all her seasons of dreaming had she ever experienced anything like that. She couldn't help but wonder if it was some sort of dangerous omen, like an owl's call on a silent night.

Isn't that all the more reason to learn what it was about?

Shadepool struggled with her thoughts, finding it hard to leave her nest. Her father had explicitly told her not to return to the ambush site again, and disobeying him would mean disobeying the warrior code and possibly enraging WindClan even further if she were caught - but could she really ignore this?

She blinked, feeling the thorns of her mind close in just a smidge tighter. Normally, Nightfrost would sense her distress and be by her side, willing to talk things through, even if he didn't fully understand - but now, with that barrier, he likely couldn't feel a thing. She certainly couldn't feel anything coming from him anymore.

I don't need him! she insisted to herself, ignoring the itch of the thorns. Not if he's going to be a fox-heart about everything!

“Do you feel that, Shadepool?”

Shadepool started in her nest, and spotted Brackenfur approaching from deep within the cave. The golden tabby didn't seem to notice Shadepool's troubled expression as he breathed in deeply.

“It smells like a thaw,” Brackenfur exhaled. His eyes sparkled. “Newleaf is coming!”

Shadepool sniffed the air to see for herself. It certainly was a bit warmer than it had been in prior days, and if she listened, she could hear the occasional drip-drop of melting ice all around. She tested the ground outside her nest with a paw - still solidly frozen, but a few days of warm sun would fix that, if it came.

Hope prickled Shadepool's fur. Newleaf meant new growth, and the Clans could finally stock their medicine dens with plants old and new from around their new territory. They'd been lucky to arrive before a deep freeze, but their stores were running thin on anything helpful.

“Is it too soon?” she wondered. “Isn't there another moon of leafbare left, at least?”

“That's possible,” Brackenfur admitted. He didn't look any less deflated to hear it. “But who knows? Perhaps StarClan has blessed us after so giving us such a harsh season?”

Shadepool hoped he was right. Leafbare was bad enough without it stretching overlong.

“What do you want me to do?” Shadepool asked. Perhaps a walk through the forest would ease her mind, if Brackenfur permitted it.

The golden-brown tom twitched his tail in thought. “There's some old bedding that needs freshening up, but after that, perhaps you might go out and peruse the territory? If the thaw persists, it might uncover some plants we could use...”

Shadepool was skeptical that they would find anything of actual use, but even finding dormant plants would be useful later on, when newleaf was in full swing. Plus, it would allow her to sneak away to the ambush site...

Her heart thudded at the idea. Gazing past the lichen that screened her little portion of the den, she could see Tinystar out in the clearing with Graystripe and Silverstream, chatting. If he caught her, she was sure she wouldn't have whiskers to speak of.

I can make it quick, she told herself. A glance at the sky told her that sunhigh was not far off. If she cleaned the dens and hurried out, she might be able to be back in camp at a reasonable hour - ThunderClan territory was big enough that it could be believed she'd spent all day finding any nook or cranny that hid a plant.

So she hurried and helped Brackenfur tear out the old, damp nests and replace them with what fresh material they had. It wasn't much - they had to downsize a nest or two to make them fit - but after a quick meal, Brackenfur told her he intended to sort through their stock while she was out and encouraged her to be off.

“Stay away from the Divide,” he reminded her as Shadepool left. “Medicine cats can cause border disputes as well as any warrior, even when they shouldn't.”

Shadepool acknowledged him with a nod and trotted towards the gorse tunnel. Her heart rate quickened - was she really going to get away with this?

“Shadepool!”

Just my luck! She halted at the woven barrier, looking over her shoulder to see Rainwhisker, Whitewing, and Nightfrost approaching.

“What is it?” she asked. A quick glance at the sky told her she hadn't much time to waste chatting.

“Off to look for plants?” Nightfrost guessed. His gaze flickered to Rainwhisker, who nodded along, before he continued, “We could come and help - we're off to hunt ourselves.”

“Yeah,” Whitewing agreed, looking eager. “We wouldn't mind!”

Quickly, Shadepool had to think of something - there was no way any of them could go with her, not if speed was on her mind.

“Aren't you all busy?” she suggested. “I'm sure you'll be wanted for training later...”

“I guess,” Rainwhisker rolled his eyes. He nudged Nightfrost. “He doesn't want to try sweet-talking Mistyfoot to get us out of it!” Whitewing purred in amusement behind them.

Nightfrost's eyes flashed indignantly. “I wouldn't dare try!” He swallowed awkwardly, then went on, looking to Shadepool, “But we can help you out before then - not even Swiftfoot could be mad about that.”

“I don't want to take up your time,” Shadepool insisted, staring her brother in the eye. The thorns in her mind gripped tighter and stung. If he weren't so stubborn, she wouldn't have to think up such rapid excuses! “Any plants beneath the snow layer will be fragile, and warriors just don't know what to do with their paws when it comes to leaves and stems!”

“Well, you're right about that,” Whitewing sighed bashfully. She nudged both Rainwhisker and Nightfrost and lamented, “We tried! Let's go - I don't want to hear about someone else catching more than us!”

Rainwhisker grinned. “Oh, definitely - Sootfur never shuts up about it, even if he gets the tiniest little shrew more!”

The two padded through the thorn tunnel, chuckling to each other, complaining about boastful denmates. Nightfrost, though, lingered, and Shadepool felt his gaze on her, fixed and intense.

“What're you up to?” he asked. Lowering his voice, he guessed, “Crowflight?”

Shadepool nearly hissed. She forced her fur to lay flat and insisted through her teeth, “Not at all! What business is it of yours, anyway?”

“It always used to be my business,” Nightfrost reminded her gently. His gaze flickered with worry and discomfort that reflected Shadepool's own. “I don't like not knowing what you're thinking, Shade. It feels so wrong.”

At that moment, Shadepool wanted to crumble. Her brother was suffering from this, too, she knew - but if she let him in, then he would only judge her again, make her feel humiliated and small like before. The idea of that raised her hackles.

The thorns tightened again.

“I'm not your problem to deal with anymore,” Shadepool growled.

Nightfrost looked hurt. “Shade, c'mon, that's not-”

“Go hunting with your friends,” Shadepool cut in, her tone bitter, “and leave me alone.”

She turned away, leaving Nightfrost to stare after her. She didn't look back to even see if he'd followed as she pushed through the thorn tunnel, feeling every single one of the barbs prick at her pelt the entire way.

———————————————————

Shadepool padded into the ambush hollow, panting hard. She had put on as much speed as she had dared to make it here with any daylight left, and her legs were damp and trembling from the sharp cold of the Divide. To her knowledge, no cat had pursued her, not even Nightfrost.

Catching her breath, she opened her mouth to scent the air. WindClan and ThunderClan scents still mingled here from the day before, fresh but fading. Most importantly, despite Emberstep's insistence yesterday, WindClan had indeed not attempted to mark this area as their own territory, despite them patrolling so far out of their own borders to keep an eye on the hollow.

I need to hurry.

As she peered into the area, she half-expected to see the white cat there, standing atop the boulder she meant to investigate - but there was no one here, not even a bird. Shadepool was alone, and the thought throbbed in her ears.

She had never been alone before.

I can't think about that! She told herself. There was a very specific thing she was here to do, and she needed to do it and leave before a WindClan patrol came by.

She approached the boulder and bent down, trying to find a good place to squeeze into the narrow gap. Once again, she couldn't imagine how a cat fit down here, let alone a badger - but it was done, and done in desperation, in Barkface's case.

Shadepool found a place where the earth seemed low enough, where some claw marks dug into the soil and created a shape that might accommodate a cat. Taking a deep breath, she pressed her muzzle against the gap and pushed.

She must have looked mouse-brained, trying to jam her head into such a small opening, but Barkface had done it, and his face had been no narrower than any other cat's. She pushed, prayed, and scrabbled with her paws, and she wished for the first time that she had inherited her father's unusually small body.

Her skull and cheeks felt like they were on fire, and she considered giving up - until she suddenly found herself thrust forward, plunging headfirst into the darkness.

I did it! Thank StarClan!

As the rest of her body slid behind her, Shadepool's eyes adjusted to the dark gloom. Beneath the boulder was only cold earth, as no grass could grow here - she even spotted some mushrooms here and there. It was a shallow scoop, almost like a Clan den, but it still didn't provide much space, and she had to crouch low to keep her head from bumping the rock-hard ceiling.

The smell of soil and earth was strong here, so strong Shadepool couldn't help but sneeze. The noise rocketed throughout the tiny space, endlessly bouncing off the oppressive walls and making her very aware of how small of an area she was in.

A shiver ran down her spine. Father would lose his mind in here!

Thankfully, she did not possess her father's fear of small spaces. With her eyes fully adjusted, she began to look around to the best of her ability, but there wasn't much here to see. Some rough pawmarks were all she found, and any lingering scents had long faded.

There has to be something here, she thought. why else dream of it as I had?

She looked to the blackness at the farthest end, the long-abandoned set that led into the hill. Something about staring into the darkness made her ears ring, but she crept forward - this was the only lead.

This outer part is too small to escape an attacker, she reasoned. The claw marks at the edge attested to that. A long enough foreleg could reach beneath the boulder and still slice someone hiding inside. Barkface must've gone deeper in to be safe.

So forward she went, down into the darkness.

Shadepool had never been inside a badger's set before, but she'd heard them described by the elders and other warriors - a small tunnel that led to a few dug-out pockets just beneath the surface where the badgers slept and ate and reared their young. They were narrow and full of danger, as approaching a badger in their set gave them the advantage.

These tunnels were long abandoned, however - there wasn't a scent of badger to be found, but Shadepool could feel with her whiskers that the tunnels were still very much intact. Her twitching whiskers led her deep down, and she kept her pawsteps short and careful.

It reminded her of the Moonstone and the tunnel the medicine cats had used to reach it - but that tunnel had been short and straight, while this one was zig-zagging all over the place, it felt. It's not like she could properly see to know.

Finally, she reached what felt like an opening. She glanced back and could hardly see where she had come from, it was so dark. Her heart beat hard in her throat - what if she got lost? Her thoughts spiraled. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

Multiple scents crossed her nose - mice, vole, rabbit, shrew... These tunnels were used as paths for prey, and used fairly often. Their scent trails led off in many different directions from here, too, meaning that the tunnel Shadepool had used to get here was not the only one connected to this hollow.

If prey uses these tunnels, they must come up somewhere else, Shadepool thought. Prey creatures were simple-minded, but their own safety was their primary concern. The scents wouldn't be so strong here if there were only one way in or out.

With some hope there, she put it out of her mind for now. She focused her senses, her eyes now able to make out the faint outline of the earthen den she had entered. Roots came in from the ceiling, scraggly and grasping, the longest of which brushed the top of Shadepool's head. There were scattered stones and clods of loose earth here and there, but not much else.

She swallowed. Had she come here for nothing again?

Shadepool sighed and went back. Her daylight was fading, and she was going to be missed. As she went to make her way out of the den, however, her paw brushed against something soft.

Confused, Shadepool tried to see what she had touched - but, in the gloom and growing shadows, she just couldn't. Instead, she hooked it in her claw and decided to take it with her, limping up the tunnel she'd come in from.

The trip out seemed shorter than the trip down, and soon enough Shadepool could see a thin line of light that meant she would be out beneath the boulder, and she could see what was snagged on her claw.

It's probably nothing, she told herself. Maybe some old rabbit fur. They're shedding now, for sure.

“Do you smell that?”

Shadepool's ears twitched, and she ducked low. She could just barely hear the voice, but she could smell WindClan, strong as if they were standing a few tail-lengths away - which they were.

She saw the shadows of their legs blotting out the only light she had as they walked along the outside of the boulder.

“ThunderClan,” said one of the cats. Shadepool didn't recognize his voice.

“It's probably from yesterday,” said a she-cat. Shadepool thought it might be Duskwhisker, from the dark legs it seemed to belong to. “It lingers in the cold, and the thaw might stir it up.”

“Yeah, but what if they're out here?” asked another she-cat. “You know they don't take borders seriously!”

“We warned them off real good yesterday, Thorndusk,” assured Duskwhisker. “Now, c'mon already; we weren't supposed to be out this far right now to begin with...”

“I still think we should have marked out here...” the tom meowed. His voice faded into the distance, and the shadows disappeared.

Shadepool did not move until she was sure they were gone, frozen with panic. What if they had identified her? Duskwhisker surely had - she knew about Shadepool and Crowflight's relationship, after all. Had she covered for Shadepool for the sake of her friend?

There wasn't time to figure that out. Shadepool needed to leave now.

She pulled herself out from beneath the boulder into the open air again, taking great lungfuls of it without realizing how much she'd missed the freshness. Her limbs trembled slightly, and as she calmed down, she finally got the chance to look at what was snagged on her claw.

It was fur.

Confused, Shadepool bent close to examine it. It wasn't prey fur that she knew of - it was cat fur, for sure.

But it wasn't Barkface's.

Shadepool's heart thudded. She took the fur in her jaws, ignoring the way it tickled her tongue, and turned her head back toward the boulder and the tunnel it hid for one last look. What other secrets lay within? Somehow, she had to get this tuft to her father, and quickly - this could prove ThunderClan's innocence!

“Shadepool...”

Shadepool felt a cold shiver run up her spine. It trickled in her fur like she had rubbed herself against a melting icicle.

The whisper came again. “We see you, Shadepool...”

Shadepool's tail bushed. The voice seemed like it was everywhere, all around her. She didn't recognize it at all.

Her eyes were drawn to the darkness beneath the boulder. Like in her dream, the shadows were writhing, twisting, moving. They formed the shapes of cats, and each one spread out, prowling the hollow like it was their own territory. They were altogether too long and too sharp, their legs jerking like spiders as they crawled along the hillside.

Shadepool's fear and panic expanded, pressing itself up against the limits of her mind. She felt the thorn barrier piercing her, pushing back and tightening as she wanted nothing more than to burst it open and yowl for her brother to come and help her - but the barrier resisted, digging back.

“This is our place, Shadepool,” the shadows hissed. Their head-shapes rattled as they spoke, and the scent of decay touched her nose. “You do not belong here. Begone, before we swallow your starlight whole.”

Shadepool did not need any more encouragement - she turned and fled, and as she ran, she could swear she felt the putrid breath of her pursuers on her heels.