[TB] TWILIGHT -- Chapter 17 (Patreon)

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“What do we do now?” Shadepool prompted, staring at her mentor. Her legs were trembling with fear and uncertainty, and she was hoping more than hope that Brackenfur had some sort of idea.

Brackenfur, though, was staring back at her, just as helplessly. Shadepool swallowed around a hard lump in her throat.

He doesn't know what to do! Panic lit Shadepool's nerves on fire, bouncing against the walls of thorns in her mind. He always knows what to do!

Shadepool stared down at her paws. However, there were no answers there - just herself, her own little white paws, and the sand-covered stone below her. She looked back up at Brackenfur and found that he was still stunned.

“Do... Do we tell Tinystar?” she wondered, hoping to spur him to someplace other than silence.

Brackenfur blinked and then flattened his ears. “No,” he answered lamely. He shook his muzzle, then coughed out, “No! Not yet.”

Shadepool worked her paws against the ground, confused. “Tinystar asked me to look for Onewhisker,” she admitted. “You want me not to tell him?”

Brackenfur's muzzle clenched. “He shouldn't have done that to you,” he lamented. “There was never any guarantee you'd have found him in the first place, whether he was there or not.” He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “But how could you say no?”

His eyes flickered, and Shadepool sensed that he was beginning to come out from his shock. Brackenfur's tail twitched in thought.

“I will handle Tinystar,” he said firmly. “Go and try to rest, Shadepool.”

Shadepool frowned. “I can talk to Tinystar; you don't have to do it for me.”

“Tinystar is still hurting,” Brackenfur insisted. He hunkered down in his nest, exhaling through his nose in what Shadepool guessed was pain. The juniper he'd taken before the trek to the Moonpool would've worn off long before now. He adjusted himself, grunting, “This knowledge needs to be conveyed carefully - to tell him outright might cause him to spiral and do something desperate.”

Shadepool bit her tongue. She knew her father well enough to know that Brackenfur was right.

“We might not like it,” Brackenfur went on, “and believe me, I don't - but we cannot afford to chance what Tinystar might do, not until we have more information ourselves. Sometimes, we medicine cats must withhold the truth for the good of our Clans.”

He regarded her evenly, and Shadepool knew he was placing a heavy amount of trust on her shoulders, possibly more than he had ever before. She dipped her chin low in understanding.

It's not like I'm any stranger to doing that, she told herself. But her stomach still roiled now as it had back then, nerves threatening to eat her from the inside out. Did Brackenfur know what she had done to save WindClan? Yellowfang had, after all, and the two were very close.

If he did, he wasn't punishing her for it. Not yet.

Shadepool bid him a quiet goodnight before she headed for her own nest, exhausted to her bones. She wasn't sure she would get any sleep - how could she, knowing that something had stolen Onewhisker's spirit?

But she went through the effort of circling in her nest, anyway, and by the time she had laid herself down and tucked her nose behind her tail, her eyes were heavy with sleep.

In the darkness, she thought she saw the shapes of shadowy cats.

———————————————————

The next several days passed quietly.

Shadepool was kept busy enough with her duties, scouring the territory for any winter herbs that were available and helping her Clanmates with aches and sprains and chills. Her spare moments were split between begging StarClan for newleaf and trying to untangle the questions in her mind, foremost of all what had happened to Onewhisker's spirit.

Sorreltail and Sun sometimes joined her on her outings - if they noticed that Shadepool was lost in thought, they didn't say anything. In fact, they often seemed to do their best to keep her mind away from what was troubling her, even if they didn't know it, taking moments to play with her in the snow or teaching her tips on how to hunt in leafbare. Shadepool found herself catching more than a few pieces of fresh-kill for the pile.

Shadepool was very grateful for the distraction. The knowledge of Onewhisker's fate was an oppressive force, true; but what was worse was not being able to talk to anyone about it.

Brackenfur had spent these days wracking his brain, but he had no more clues than Shadepool. It seemed as if Brackenfur had told Tinystar that Shadepool simply hadn't been able to find Onewhisker - if Tinystar was skeptical, he didn't show it outwardly, and he went about his days as he usually did, keeping the Clan running with Mistyfoot and Dustpelt.

Nightfrost was worse, though - where Shadepool had once not even needed to speak to convey her distress, now she wanted desperately to tell him what had happened, but found herself incapable of even beginning a conversation with her brother. She had never been so cut off from him before, and she longed to do so much as eat beside her brother and share in his life, but the first thing she needed to do was apologize to him before she laid anything at his paws. She just didn't know how to do that yet.

Slowly, the moon began to swell again, and, on a dark, cloudy night where the moon was a few days from full, Shadepool crept out of camp, using the shadows to hide her from Sootfur on the night watch.

Weighed down with her feelings and worries and lack of answers and confidants, she wanted nothing more than to see Crowflight - and, even if they didn't see one another, just getting out of camp by herself would be good for her mind, she knew.

She took it slow through the forest, heading to the Divide - not to the tree-bridge, but to the hidden stepping-stones that Crowflight had shown her what felt like a lifetime ago, now. If he wanted to see her, he would be there, where it was safer for them to meet.

As she walked, she was wondering what they would even talk about. She wanted to catch up with Crowflight more than anything, but what would she say about what she had learned? She'd never kept secrets from Crowflight before, and the idea of starting to now didn't feel right.

But what would he think of Onewhisker not being in StarClan? she thought. Her paws trembled. He would have to tell Mudstar something like that, right?

Would Mudstar even believe it, though? Shadepool shuddered. The concept was just too horrendous! And how would Crowflight explain where he'd learned such information? What if Mudstar laid the blame on ThunderClan again? It would really be war, then, and the other Clans would have to side with WindClan in the face of such a revelation.

ThunderClan would be alone, with no hope at all to survive.

Shadepool stopped beside the stepping-stones. Her chest felt tight - her thoughts had spiraled too much, too intensely, and she settled in a bit of leafless bracken to hide and try to calm down.

She tried again to break open the thorn barrier in her mind and found that, frustratingly, it still wouldn't budge. On the other side was Nightfrost, and whatever dreams he was dreaming, whatever comfort he could give. The idea of being so trapped with her own thoughts was so suffocating, especially when they were this heavy and apocalyptic.

Is this how Mistyfoot feels inside? she wondered. She'd only ever seen the outward appearance of Mistyfoot's anxiety. To think that her friend felt like this so often! How did she manage?

Shadepool focused on her breathing, but wished she had some thyme to help unclench her chest. This deep in leafbare, though, meant that the plant would be nowhere to be found. Even just a whiff of its comforting scent would probably help...

Her nose twitched.

The scent that had drifted across the river wasn't thyme, but it was something far more soothing. Her ears pricked, and she poked her head out from the bracken, hoping she wasn't making it up.

Crowflight!

He was on the other side of the stepping-stones, staring across the water with a hopeful look in his eyes. He hadn't spotted her yet, but it seemed like he was looking, with the purposeful way he peered into the scraggly bushes.

Shadepool's breath caught in her throat, and her worries faded like mist in the sunshine - he was here! She thanked StarClan as she carefully pulled herself out of her hiding spot. She lifted her tail in greeting, a purr caught in her throat.

Crowflight spotted her a moment later, and his eyes widened. Moments later, he was splashing across the stepping-stones without a care for how he might slip. He was on the ThunderClan side of the Divide and a whiskerlength away within a heartbeat.

Shadepool breathed in his scent, letting it warm and comfort her. Her mind, which had been weighted down like a thundercloud, eased away, lifted into a sunny greenleaf day. Love welled up in her chest, and she wondered if it would spill out her jaws when she opened her mouth.

“Crowflight!” She almost choked on her purr. “It's been so long, I'm so sorry!”

Crowflight's eyes glittered with emotion. He rasped, “It's okay! I understand.”

They stared into one another's eyes for a long moment, just drinking in the sight of each other. Shadepool desperately needed to know if anything about him had changed. Crowflight looked leaner and stronger. Had he grown taller, somehow? No, that couldn't be. His dark fur looked sleek as the night sky, and he seemed as healthy as she could determine.

He seemed to be doing the same to her, his eyes flickering over her. She felt warm under his scrutiny and welcomed that in this bitter cold.

When he was done, he touched his nose to her ear and breathed, “I've missed you.”

“Me, too,” Shadepool agreed.

“Where have you been?” he asked. His gaze flashed with concern. “Duskwhisker said she scented you alone at the ambush site, but I haven't seen you anywhere...”

Shadepool twitched her whiskers. That's probably the last time he heard anything of me! It's been so long!

“I, uh, wasn't supposed to be there,” Shadepool admitted. Her tail frisked. “I was hoping to find something we might've missed, but...”

“But?” Crowflight leaned in, hopeful.

Shadepool sighed. “I don't think it was anything at all,” she sighed. Quickly, she told him about the gray tuft of fur. “Tinystar didn't think it was conclusive since there are too many gray cats in the Clans.”

Crowflight grimaced. “I don't disagree,” he decided. “That sounds too vague to be helpful.”

He exhaled, his eyes turning soft. “I'm sorry it didn't amount to anything, Shade,” he murmured. “I know you'd try anything to help, but that was dangerous! Duskwhisker wouldn't have been able to defend you if you'd been caught.”

Shadepool's fur fluffed with discomfort. “You're telling me they'd attack a medicine cat?”

Crowflight lashed his tail. “I wouldn't tell them to, and normally, I don't think Duskwhisker would - but not every cat thinks that way. After all, whoever killed Onewhisker didn't try to spare Barkface, either.” His gaze darkened. “Some cats are having a hard time grappling with that.”

Shadepool shuddered at the idea. “Is WindClan really so far gone?” she whispered.

“Not at all!” Crowflight insisted, his neck fur ruffling. Shadepool felt him tense, and a familiar defensiveness entered his tone: “WindClan is doing just fine right now. Mudstar isn't a bad leader, and I think I'm doing a pretty good job as deputy! My Clanmates are not heartless, they're just scared!”

Shadepool took a step back, flattening her ears. “You know what I meant, Crowflight,” she insisted with a hiss. “You don't need to get like that.”

Crowflight looked away from her, his hackles lowering self-consciously. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Are things really going so well?” Shadepool wondered. She drew close, accepting his apology.

Crowflight nodded. He told her, “It's the middle of leafbare - that sucks, like usual, but Mudstar is handling it all really well. He can be harsh, but he does know what he's doing. The Clan has gotten back on its paws.”

She had to ask: “And the ambush...?”

“The ambush...?” Crowflight repeated, confused. “I didn't hear anything about that.”

She explained what happened, quickly. “No one was seriously hurt,” she said, “but you're telling me you didn't know anything about it?”

Crowflight shook his head, his expression grim. “I don't think Mudstar did, either,” he grunted. “He ordered us not to mess with ThunderClan unless they mess with us first.”

“Tinystar said the same thing.” It surprised Shadepool that the two would end up thinking the same way about the situation, despite standing on opposite sides of it. What did that say about Mudstar's leadership? Shadepool wasn't sure.

Crowflight looked troubled. “I'll keep an eye out for any rumblings of things like this, but I don't know what I can do about the ambush without revealing how I knew about it.” His tail stiffened. “I don't want to get you into any trouble.”

“Perhaps Duskwhisker can help?” Shadepool suggested.

“I can't risk her, either. She'd never forgive me.” Crowflight shook his head. “She's my friend, probably my only one.”

Shadepool scoffed, “Not your only one! What about Nightfrost and the others?”

Crowflight looked her in the eye. “Do they really still think we're friends after all this?”

Drawing closer, Shadepool pressed her muzzle against his. “I do,” she murmured. “And I know they still care about you, even if things are complicated right now.”

Crowflight grunted, and Shadepool wondered if he believed her.

The night drew on into the early hours. When the first birds began to chirp and clamor and the sky was a pale gray, Shadepool uncurled herself from the bracken nest they had made and nudged Crowflight awake.

“It's time,” she murmured.

While Crowflight stretched, Shadepool watched him. Her heart ached at what was to come - that he would disappear over the stepping-stones, and she had no idea when she would see him again. He was the brightest spot of happiness in her life right now, and she didn't want to lose that, not for anything.

“Crowflight, wait a moment,” she said suddenly.

Crowflight looked at her, puzzled. “Shade, I know you don't want to go, but we have to-”

“No, this is important!” Shadepool insisted. “You need to know about this.”

Heart thudding in her ears, Shadepool wondered if this was the right thing to do - but something inside her screamed that she couldn't hide it anymore, it was just too much, and it was Crowflight - she couldn't keep a secret like this. Not if they were to work together, which she wanted more than anything after feeling so cut off from everyone important to her.

So, she told him about Onewhisker, sharing everything she could until he was slack-jawed in shock, staring at her as if she had grown trees from her ears.

“I know this is a lot,” she breathed, her limbs trembling, “and you might not understand what it means - we don't, either - but I can't... I can't handle knowing it all on my own. I just can't.”

Crowflight blinked at her, owl-eyed. Speechless.

Please, say something!

“Do you believe me?” Shadepool urged.

Crowflight was silent for another heartbeat. “I wish I didn't,” he finally managed, his voice dry. “Oh, Shadepool...”

“Don't tell anyone else, not even Mudstar!” Shadepool insisted. She stared into his eyes, begging and pleading. “For now, at least. Not until we know what's really going on here!”

“What about Barkface?” Crowflight wondered, his ears flattened. “Wha-What if this happens to him, too?”

Shadepool shivered at the idea. “Is Barkface...?”

“Ryewhisper isn't hopeful,” Crowflight confessed, his voice full of pain and fear. She could see the hair along his spine rising. “If Barkface dies, and his spirit disappears, too...”

“... then there won't be a way for anyone to find out the truth,” Shadepool finished. Her chest tightened again, making it hard to breathe. Could whatever had done this really be so cruel?

We're already dealing with someone willing to kill, she thought resolutely, even though it sickened her. Nothing is out of the realm of possibility. She wished she could tell Brackenfur about this - but there was no way he would calmly understand how she'd gotten the information about Barkface.

Crowflight seemed to be of the same mind. He rested his muzzle on top of her head. “Thank you for telling me,” he whispered. “I don't know what I can do to help, Shadepool, but I know we can stop this. We can do anything, so long as we're together.”

Shadepool trembled at his words and could only purr in response. Was this what Yellowfang meant about faith and love? She wasn't sure, but she decided that it was close enough.

She breathed in his scent one last time and then watched him cross the stepping-stones, his lean form disappearing into the woods on the other side. She missed him so much already, but their night together would have to last until they saw one another again.

Shadepool glanced up at the moon. There'll be a Gathering soon, she thought, suppressing a yawn. Perhaps we can meet then? Maybe there will be more information in the coming days...

First, though, she would have to disguise her scent before returning to camp. If she got there quick enough, she could take a nap until sunup, and then maybe Sorreltail would hunt some breakfast with her...

When she lowered her gaze from the sky, her heart nearly leaped out of her chest. The white cat was standing a tail-length away, staring right at her.

Stunned, Shadepool locked eyes with the being, trapped in its starry gaze that showed so much yet so little. It didn't move, its lean shape barely visible in the white world around them.

Yellowfang had been certain the being meant no harm, so why was it stalking her? Shadepool's pelt fizzled with frustration. Why did this thing have to appear right when she felt slightly more confident?

Exasperated, she burst, demanding, “What do you want from me?”

As usual, there was no response. The white cat simply stared back, Silverpelt swirling in its liquid gaze. Looking for too long felt like Shadepool was floundering in deep water, watching the bubbles of her last breaths drift up to the surface.

Shadepool shivered. “If you're not here to hurt or help me - are you just going to stare at me? Is that all you do?” she spat, bitterly. “Am I supposed to just know what you want?”

Nothing.

Shadepool growled in her throat. “I don't have time for this,” she said. “Leave me alone already, unless you can help me!”

She turned away from the white cat, not looking back to see if it had disappeared. If that spirit wanted something out of her, it could say so. If not, it could stand there and rot for all she cared.

There was too much else going on to worry about it now.