[TB] TWILIGHT -- Chapter 21 (Patreon)

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“Shadepool? Shadepool, are you awake?”

Shadepool had been asleep, in fact, and dreaming of sharing tongues with Crowflight in a grassy meadow, their pelts warmed by greenleaf sunshine. Compared to her dreams of late, this was paradisiacal - but Sun's voice and the prodding of her paw ended the warmth and comfort all too soon.

Opening her eyes, Shadepool found that Sun's muzzle was so close to hers that her vision blurred uncomfortably, turning the she-cat into a mush of oranges and yellows and whites. Shadepool drew back, groaning.

Sun flattened her ears and pulled back as well, lowering her muzzle near to the ground and mewling, “Sorry!”

Shadepool yawned. “It's okay,” she mumbled around a dry tongue. “What's going on?”

“It's Sorreltail,” Sun said, lifting her nose. “We were due to go on a hunting patrol after we rested, but she was still sleeping when it was time to go. Longtail and I went without her, but when we returned, she was still in the warrior's den.”

Shadepool frowned, worry burrowing between her ears. “Is she awake now?” she asked.

Sun nodded. “I managed to get her up, yes.”

That's good, at least. However, Shadepool had to admit that just from Sun's description, she was stumped. Still, if something was wrong with Sorreltail, Shadepool knew she had to do something.

“Did you talk to Brackenfur?” she asked, getting to her paws.

“I wanted to, but Tinystar asked that he not be disturbed,” Sun responded. “Our trip to look for you was very taxing on him, I think.”

Shadepool grimaced with guilt. Of course, the trip was taxing - the way to the Moonpool was long, littered with cliffs and steep hills that were difficult for a regular cat to clamber over, let alone a cat with a permanent injury in the middle of leafbare. She envied WindClan, who had a much smoother journey on their side of the Divide - aside from having to splash in a river, that is.

“Let's go see her, then,” Shadepool mewed.

She followed Sun out into the clearing. The sun was sliding into evening, the sky darkening into an orangish-purple. The air was touched with a hopeful warmth, though, and Shadepool could feel newleaf coming in her heart if the geese hadn't given it away that morning - finally, there was to be an end to this long, cruel leafbare! Whatever else was happening, that was worth celebrating.

The camp seemed to be in a bustle, with most cats not out on patrol or training sharing tongues or shoring up dens - Spiderpaw and Larchpaw were practicing fighting moves just outside the apprentice's den, and it seemed to Shadepool like they were working on Larchpaw's deaf side. Ashfur and Mousefur were watching carefully, sharing a meal between themselves, occasionally pausing to give some input here or there.

Shadepool's stomach growled. She hadn't eaten in a long while, just a quick, hasty bite of chaffinch when she'd returned to camp with Brackenfur. That had been more feathers than meat, though, and it didn't make up for spending a whole day asleep at the Moonpool.

Later, she thought. Sorreltail was more important.

They quickly approached the shadow of the warrior's den, and Shadepool ducked beneath the scraggly branches. There were no buds yet, but when newleaf came, the warrior's den would look twice its size, Shadepool guessed.

Sorreltail was lying in her nest, eyes open but looking bedraggled. At the sight of Sun and Shadepool, she perked up a little, lifting her muzzle to the edge of her nest and heaving out a heavy-sounding “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Shadepool returned. She crouched in the shadows beside her, measuring her breathing and heartbeat with a paw. “Sun tells me you're not feeling well?”

"I'm fine, I'm sure,” Sorreltail insisted. “Just a lot of patrols lately. Training, too. Swiftfoot and Mistyfoot are-” she yawned, baring her teeth- “intense sometimes...”

“I can imagine,” Shadepool agreed. “Lay on your side for me, would you?”

Sorreltail obeyed. Shadepool found no issue with Sorreltail's breathing or heartbeat, and as she felt with her paws, she found no sprains or injuries that might be sapping her energy. Shadepool checked her ears and nose for fever and found them to be cool and wet, as they ought to be.

She pressed on with her paws, moving from Sorreltail's limbs to her abdomen. Soon enough, she had her answer - a faint swelling in her lower body that made Sorreltail gasp a little when Shadepool pressed gently.

“What is that?” Sun asked, eyes darting between Sorreltail and Shadepool. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Shadepool assured her. Warmth filled her chest. “Sorreltail is just pregnant, that's all.”

Sorreltail's head shot up immediately, her eyes wide. “What?! Pregnant?”

Shadepool nodded, her whiskers twitching in amusement. “Yes, definitely! With more than one, too, if I'm feeling you properly.”

Sorreltail looked as if Shadepool had suddenly sprouted wings. Sun was just as flabbergasted, blinking owlishly in the dark. Shadepool glanced between them, slightly concerned - this was her first time delivering the news. Had she done it wrong?

“Are you two okay?” Shadepool ventured carefully. “I'd offer you thyme, but we haven't any. It might be bad for Sorreltail, besides.”

“I-I'm fine,” Sorreltail insisted, glancing at Sun. “I just. I didn't think it would happen so soon.”

“Me, either,” Sun breathed, finally.

Shadepool peered at Sun. There was something on her face that was difficult to understand. Sorreltail seemed to know what it was, though, as she stretched her neck out to lap at Sun's paw comfortingly.

“Sorreltail's exhaustion is a bit more than usual at her stage,” Shadepool remarked, feeling a bit like an intruder in their private moment. “I don't think there's anything wrong, but I'm going to make sure she doesn't get involved in patrols for a few days and get Mistyfoot to take her out of the training rotation.”

“Do I have to move to the nursery?” Sorreltail wondered.

“Not yet,” Shadepool assured. “And, once you've rested, you can still go hunting - but just take it easy for now. No chasing squirrels up trees or anything like that!” Shadepool frisked her tail and said, “I'll leave you two alone and inform Tinystar - is that alright?”

“Yes,” Sun answered. Beside her, Sorreltail nodded.

Shadepool dipped her head to them both and left the warrior's den. Out in the clearing, she could breathe a little easier, and she guessed that they needed some time to themselves - this was big news, not just for them but the Clan, too.

Almost immediately, Mistyfoot approached her, eyes sharp. Nightfrost was a pace behind, a mouse in his jaws as if they were about to share it.

“What's going on?” Mistyfoot asked, her gaze flickering to the warrior's den. “Is Sorreltail hurt?”

Shadepool shook her head. “Not hurt, just expecting kits,” she explained, trying to keep her voice low. “She needs to be kept out of training sessions until the kits are weaned.”

Mistyfoot's eyes rounded, and Nightfrost, who had overheard, pricked his ears. “Of course,” Mistyfoot meowed quickly, “I'll take her out of the rotation immediately.”

“Kits!” Nightfrost breathed, dropping his meal to speak. He glanced at Mistyfoot, his eyes bright. “We finally get to use that nursery we spent two whole days on! Dustpelt is going to be so happy!”

Shadepool flicked her tail. “Keep it quiet as you can, for now,” she hissed. “I don't know if they want the whole Clan to-”

“Did someone say kits?” Spiderpaw piped up.

Shadepool's ears burned. She hadn't noticed the apprentices were tumbling so close!

Larchpaw, who was beneath her, asked, “Whose kits?” He glanced at Mistyfoot. “Yours?”

“No!” Mistyfoot insisted.

Subtlety crumbled instantly from there - Spiderpaw's mewl had caught Ashfur and Mousefur's attention, and as they began gossiping, Silverstream, of course, overheard. Graystripe knew, then, and with his boisterous voice, it was all over camp in a flash, spreading like a forest fire.

By the time Sun had crawled out of the warrior's den, she was surrounded by her new Clanmates, each one giving their congratulations. When Sun looked at Shadepool, she could only mouth a plaintive “Sorry!” to her friend - there was no way she'd be heard over the noise.

After a moment, though, it seemed like Sun was okay with the attention. She took everyone's words with a calmness that began to bubble into an excitement only an expectant parent could feel.

“Kits, hm?” Tinystar's voice was soft behind Shadepool, who started at the sound of her father. She hadn't even heard him come near, nor had she expected him to be pleased to see her.

“Y-Yes,” Shadepool said awkwardly. “Sun and Sorreltail's.”

“Good,” Tinystar sighed. His eyes sparked wistfully. “That's... That's good.”

Shadepool peered at her father. He seemed just as thin and exhausted as he'd been since he'd heard about Onewhisker's death. It seemed that the news about Barkface had hit hard, but not enough to spiral him much further. Perhaps the poppy seeds were helping?

“Father, I'm sorry,” Shadepool blurted. No one else was listening to her, anyway - they were all too focused on Sun. “I didn't mean to leave and worry you again, and-”

Tinystar waved his tail. “Brackenfur explained it,” he said simply. “Medicine cat business is medicine cat business - even when that medicine cat is my dear daughter.”

His expression was warm with pride, and that made Shadepool breathe a sigh of relief. It didn't seem like Brackenfur had told him about the Omen or the missing spirits of his friends. She still had no idea whether or not that was a good thing to keep from him, but she did agree that they needed more information before they revealed anything.

“Now, what about you two, hm?” Tinystar mewed on, looking at Mistyfoot and Nightfrost. “Will Sorreltail have company soon?”

Shadepool felt a wave of sympathy at how utterly uncomfortable they both looked, mouths agape as they groped for a response, doing everything they possibly could to avoid looking at one another.

Tinystar seemed amused, his whiskers twitching. “No rush,” he insisted. “Don't mind me - I'll just give Sorreltail my congratulations...”

He stepped away, walking through the crowd of cats toward the warrior's den. Before entering, though, he touched noses with Sun, saying something that made her flatten her ears and wind her tail bashfully around her paws. Tinystar disappeared into the shadows of the den a moment later.

“I, uh,” Mistyfoot struggled, eyes darting around until she found Mousefur. “Mousefur!” she mewled, “Hunting! Please!”

Mousefur looked at Mistyfoot like she was insane, but the expression on the gray she-cat's face seemed to be enough to convince her to go - though Mousefur was sure to heave a tired sigh as she agreed.

Shadepool watched the two trek off to the thorn tunnel, feeling a spark of something coming from between the thorns in her mind - discomfort, worry, sorrow, all from Nightfrost. It was the first emotion she felt from him in what seemed like an age, and it nearly knocked her off her paws.

“Night?” she asked, concerned. Her brother didn't budge - would he even talk to her about this? She had to try: “What's wrong? Are you and Mistyfoot okay?”

Nightfrost grimaced. “It's nothing,” he insisted, his voice tight. “Just. We're not-”

A yowl interrupted him, and suddenly Mousefur burst back into camp, bristling from ears to tail. Every cat in camp froze as fear-scent rolled into the hollow like a sour wave, followed by the harsh tang of blood as Mistyfoot and Sootfur pushed through the thorn tunnel, propping Dustpelt up between them as he bled heavily from a wound in his throat. Snowstep followed last, his white pelt streaked with red.

Their Clanmates quickly surrounded them, each cat clamoring to know what had happened, with Mousefur fighting to give the injured space. Shadepool had to battle her way through the crowd, even stepping on Brightheart's tail, to reach them.

Shadepool's mouth went dry. Snowstep's ear was torn almost to a stump, the blood from the wound streaking his face. Dustpelt's breathing was ragged, the wound at his throat deep but thankfully not fatal. Sootfur had the least injuries, but it looked like he'd torn a claw and had some new scars on his muzzle to speak of.

Beside Shadepool, Nightfrost hissed, “What in StarClan's name..?”

“What happened?!” Tinystar had thrust himself out of the warrior's den, his ice-blue eyes burning like tiny fires. All his latent exhaustion seemed to have fled him. The crowd parted around him as he padded toward the entrance.

At the sight of his injured warriors, his tail stiffened. Sharply, he demanded, “Who did this?”

It was Dustpelt who croaked, “WindClan.”

———————————————————

Sootfur and Snowstep were stable, but Dustpelt had to be kept in the medicine cat's den, with the wound in his throat at high risk of infection. So it went for the next three sunrises - while the claws of bitter leafbare unclenched around the world, there was always at least one patrol to the Divide who came back with some sort of injury.

Mousefur's patrol got caught while hunting, leaving her with a furless flank and Rainwhisker with fewer whiskers. Spiderpaw came out without injury, thankfully, but she claimed to have struck a harsh blow to one of WindClan's apprentices, nearly knocking them into the river.

Brightheart dislocated a shoulder after throwing Emberstep off herself, leaving her sore and unable to patrol. Whitewing's belly had been clawed badly, and she was confined with Dustpelt until she healed. Even Graystripe's thick fur couldn't save him from when Thorndusk nearly tore his tail off.

Soon enough, it became easier to count what warriors hadn't encountered a WindClan patrol than those who had. Shadepool and Brackenfur were up to their ears in patients, and though newleaf was finally here, the snow was still stubbornly clinging to the forest floor, and the plants they needed hadn't yet grown - nor did they have the time to go out and search the territory for any early buds with new injuries each day.

“What do they even want?” hissed Cinderpelt as Shadepool treated her for a torn ear just after her patrol returned around sunhigh. “They haven't tried to move the boundary, and it's so much effort to cross the tree-bridge and attack us! Don't they have anything better to do now that newleaf is coming?”

“They want us to suffer,” Dustpelt croaked. His throat was packed with what few herbs and cobwebs they had, and his eyes were glazed with pain. “Like they did.”

“Hush,” Brackenfur told him sternly. “You'll only hurt yourself more if you strain...”

“We need to retaliate,” Dustpelt wheezed through his teeth. “We must stop them before they think they can overrun us!”

“Dustpelt!” Brackenfur snapped. Teeth bared, he growled, “Be. Quiet. If you wake Whitewing, you'll wish you were in StarClan!”

Dustpelt curled his lip at the younger cat but lowered his head. He grumbled something into his nest about 'WindClan fox-hearts' and kept his eyes stubbornly fixated on his mate, his tail flicking to and fro. Brackenfur sighed, leaving him there to stick his head into the herb store.

“I'm sorry about him,” Cinderpelt murmured, hissing as Shadepool dabbed a poultice of sweet-sedge onto her ear. “But, he is right. That sort of tactic does make a lot of sense, coming from WindClan. From Mudstar.”

Shadepool's pelt rippled uncomfortably. “I'm a medicine cat,” she reminded Cinderpelt, trying to keep her tone from being too short. “Not a warrior.”

Cinderpelt opened her jaws, then shut them, choosing to keep whatever she was about to say next to herself. Shadepool hadn't wanted to be so glib with a senior warrior, but she was exhausted to the ends of her whiskers with how many patients she'd seen the last three sunrises - it was even beginning to test Brackenfur's temper.

“Shadepool, go and fetch more cobwebs from behind the elder's den,” Brackenfur ordered, pulling his head out from the cleft in the wall. “We've all but run out, and Whitewing's dressings need changing. I'll finish with Cinderpelt, here.”

“Of course.”

Exhausted to her bones, Shadepool shuffled out of the medicine cat's cave and into the sunshine. The clearing felt open and free compared to the claustrophobic cave, so she aimed to enjoy it before she had to head back inside.

Maybe I can go looking for herbs again, she thought as she headed toward the elder's den. It wasn't being used for the moment, and though there were no nests made, it still looked incredibly cozy and quiet. Or, maybe I can take a nap...

Brackenfur was right that there was a good supply of cobwebs between the bushes and cliffside, and Shadepool was able to bind her paw in the sticky substance while still leaving plenty to spare for later. She thanked the spiders for their help and began her awkward jaunt back to the cave.

She could feel the gazes of her Clanmates on her as she walked. With so many injuries, many cats had to be confined to camp so they could heal properly - thus, the clearing felt full of eyes with not much else to do but ponder their sudden situation with one another.

Shadepool tried to avoid the gossip, but one voice carried to her ears:

“How can Crowflight be okay with this?” Nightfrost whispered, his eyes round with disbelief.

He crouched just on the other side of the fallen tree with Mistyfoot, both of them hidden behind the upturned roots. It seemed like they had chosen this spot specifically to keep prying eyes and ears away, but Shadepool knew their voices too well to ignore them. She paused to listen, concern tumbling in her belly.

Mistyfoot's gaze was dark. “He's changed, whether we like it or not.”

Frustration boiled in Shadepool's pelt, multiplied by her exhaustion. She hobbled around the tree roots and thrust her muzzle into their faces, hissing between bared teeth, “Crowflight would never be okay with this! How dare you think that about him, after everything we've gone through together!”

“Shade...” Nightfrost cautioned. His eyes darted from side to side as if he were worried about onlookers.

Mistyfoot curled her lip. “Face it, Shadepool - something like this isn't a decision Mudstar would make alone. If Crowflight opposed it, he wouldn't be deputy in the first place!”

Shadepool bristled and dug her claws into the dirt to keep them from lashing out at Mistyfoot. There was absolutely no way that she would believe Crowflight was involved - not when his warriors had already proven they would do things behind his back before.

But there's no way he wouldn't know about attacks like this... Her stomach curdled. And I can't tell them how I know for certain, not unless I want Mistyfoot to know about Crowflight and I.

“Face it, Shadepool,” Mistyfoot breathed. “Crowflight has changed.”

Shadepool glared at Mistyfoot, unable to believe the words she was hearing - but slowly, she realized that Mistyfoot didn't look pleased about it, either. In fact, she looked just as hurt and betrayed as Shadepool was frustrated and defensive.

She doesn't want to think it of him, but without evidence stating otherwise, what else can she think?

She looked to Nightfrost, hoping to see some sort of support from her brother - but he was not meeting her gaze, and he looked as if he'd been clawed by Sharptooth's ghost.

Shadepool lashed her tail. “You might have stopped believing in him,” she muttered bitterly, “but I haven't.”

Nightfrost made a noise in his throat, sounding hurt. Mistyfoot narrowed her eyes and reasoned, “That's not fair, Shadepool. We have to face facts.”

You don't know the facts! There's so much more going on!

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey come beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting!”

Shadepool glanced over her shoulder, shocked at the powerful sound of her father's voice echoing off the stone walls. Tinystar was a dark spot atop the Highledge, staring down at the clearing with eyes like ice.

From every corner of the camp, ThunderClan gathered, some limping, some with pain in their eyes, others looking tired from covering patrols for their injured denmates. It took only moments for them all to gather beneath their leader. Brackenfur poked his head out from behind the lichen that shrouded the medicine cat's cave, unable to leave Dustpelt and Whitewing for long.

Shadepool hobbled over with Nightfrost and Mistyfoot, but she kept her distance from the both of them, still feeling like her pelt was covered in thorns. As she looked up at her father, she felt she could easily predict what he was about to say, and a lump formed in her throat.

He's going to fight WindClan.

Tinystar's gaze swept over his Clan. Shadepool could only imagine how he felt right now, knowing that so many of his cats bore scratches and bites that were still healing. When it seemed like everyone was present, he began to speak:

“These past days have been hard,” he began. “I cannot speak for what is going on in Mudstar's head, but clearly, he is attempting to provoke us into responding.”

“Then I say we respond!” snapped Swiftfoot. His stump of a tail lashed. “Enough is enough!”

“Yeah,” agreed Ashfur. “Too many cats are getting hurt. We have to retaliate!”

Agreement rippled through the Clan. Shadepool grimaced at the waves of aggression clouding the air. She sat and curled her tail tight around her free paw, searching for something to soothe the tempers of her Clanmates.

Tinystar beat her to it: “I agree that this cannot go unpunished - but we cannot be seen as the aggressor, no matter what. That will only justify WindClan's position.”

“But it puts us at risk!” Brightheart called back. “If we can't find a way to fight back, we're just going to get more and more worn down, and cats will start dying!”

Beside her, Sun nodded. She had a poultice above her eye from an injury the day before. “I, for one, want to see my kits when they're born, Tinystar!”

More meows of agreement. Shadepool was at least grateful that, though they were all angry, her Clanmates seemed to agree that this situation was less than ideal. She thanked StarClan that Dustpelt wasn't here to add his harsh voice to the crowd for once.

“I am going to take a patrol to the WindClan border to try and sort this out,” Tinystar declared. “One last appeal to Mudstar's decency - hopefully, he will see the truth.”

“Doubt it,” muttered Sootfur. “We're talking about a cat who started a civil war in his own Clan, lost, and probably killed Onewhisker, Barkface, and Ashfoot.” Beside him, Ashfur nodded along, his pale eyes burning.

“Reason has long since left him,” Swiftfoot agreed.

Shadepool shivered. Several other cats looked like they agreed with the same ideas. Even Longtail looked certain of it. How far had that nasty rumor of Skipnose's spread? Were there cats in every Clan that thought the same?

Tinystar lashed his tail. “We don't know any of that for certain,” he insisted, glaring down at his Clan. “And until we do, we cannot take it for truth. I will take Mistyfoot, Graystripe, Ashfur, and Shadepool with me to speak to Mudstar.”

“And if Mudstar doesn't relent?” Snowstep asked, his white pelt glowing boldly in the sunshine. His ear was wrapped tight in cobweb and sweet-sedge, and the red streaks in his pelt were struggling to wash out.

Tinystar grimaced. “Then we begin fighting back.”

Shadepool swallowed.

“Brightheart, you have the camp. We will be back before sundown - this meeting is adjourned.”

Tinystar clambered down the steps of the Highledge. The crowd dispersed, parting to let those chosen for the patrol come through. Silverstream touched her nose to Graystripe's ear, murmuring something to him with a worried gaze. Larchpaw tugged at Ashfur's tail, begging to come along, only to be rebuffed by his mentor. Both Mistyfoot and Nightfrost got up to meet the patrol, tails low.

“Here, I'll take that,” murmured Ferncloud.

Shadepool flinched - she hadn't even noticed the queen sidling so close. Shadepool's jaws opened in a confused response, but when Ferncloud's paw reached out to take the cobwebs, Shadepool felt like a mouse-brain.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“No problem,” Ferncloud said. She carefully untangled the cobwebs from Shadepool's paw, winding them around her own. “I'll help Brackenfur as best as I can while you're gone. I know a little about herbs from helping out some back in the old forest.”

“That would be great,” Shadepool breathed, grateful for the queen's help. “Thank you.”

Ferncloud's green eyes sparkled. “Good luck.”

Free of her cobwebs, Shadepool trotted over to Tinystar. It seemed like the entire patrol was gathered and ready, the warriors bearing determined faces. Shadepool hoped she looked as brave - it was a risk to bring her along if Mudstar decided he didn't want to talk peace.

“Let me come, Father,” Nightfrost insisted. “Please. If Crowflight is there, I need to talk to him.”

Tinystar frowned, his whiskers twitching. He glanced between his son and his daughter, and Shadepool guessed he was weighing the possibilities of bringing both of his kits to a potentially dangerous negotiation.

Finally, though, he sighed and meowed, “Come.”

———————————————————

As they hurried through the forest, following the twisting paths to the Divide, Shadepool could hear the forest beginning to melt. Water as cold as ice dripped slowly from every branch and bush, while the snow that had piled up from blizzard after blizzard had a sheen of moisture on its surface. The ground beneath their paws was soft, and the sun on their backs was warm.

She wanted to lose herself in the rich, loamy scents that filled the air - anything but this tension that kept the patrol quiet, the purpose that dogged their steps. Sure, Mudstar could see reason and relent - but Shadepool had her bets on the exact opposite happening, and every other cat seemed to believe the same.

The trees thinned, and the Divide loomed ahead, sooner rather than later. As the patrol neared the tree-bridge, though, something became quite clear:

WindClan was waiting for them.

On the ThunderClan side, at the foot of the tree-bridge, stood a patrol of WindClan cats - Crowflight was at their center, his dark blue eyes burning, but with him, spread out like a battle patrol, were Thorndusk, Emberstep, and Whitetail.

Shadepool's heart thudded in her ears. How long had they been there, waiting on the edge of ThunderClan territory? Were they waiting to ambush one of us?

Tinystar drew to a halt, and, at a signal from his tail, the patrol fanned out to enclose the WindClan cats. Shadepool stayed close to her father in the center, with Mistyfoot on his other side. Graystripe glowered at Thorndusk, while Ashfur glared at Emberstep with undisguised hostility, which the gray she-cat returned.

“What, so we have to respect that you closed your borders to us, but you don't have to respect our boundaries?” Ashfur growled. His ears were flat to his head. “Those rabbits must be going to your heads, WindClan!”

Emberstep hissed at him. Crowflight sent her a glare that made her crouch low, fuming.

“What is the meaning of this?” Tinystar asked, taking half a step forward. His spine was stiff. “Why are you on ThunderClan land?”

“Mudstar sent us to talk,” Crowflight responded. Shadepool thought he sounded strained. His body language was formal, but she detected worry in how the tips of his ears flicked.

“Funny,” Graystripe muttered, “we came to speak to Mudstar.”

“He will not hear you,” Whitetail stated matter-of-factly.

“Is that so?” Tinystar wondered, flicking an ear.

“Mudstar will not speak with codebreakers and murderers,” Thorndusk snapped.

“We're codebreakers too, now?” Graystripe wondered under his breath, sighing. “Yikes.”

Tinystar hissed between his teeth. Shadepool could sense her father's frustration, and she hoped it would not build - this patrol far outnumbered the WindClan cats, but if they were the ones to strike first, it would destroy what Tinystar was trying to accomplish.

Besides, Shadepool knew she wouldn't be able to bear seeing not just her littermate and friend hurt, but Crowflight as well. Her heart thudded in her ears.

“Speak, then, Crowflght,” Tinystar decided. “Tell me how Mudstar is choosing to justify stalking and harassing my warriors on their own land while calling us codebreakers in the same breath!”

Crowflight puffed out his thin chest. “Mudstar has decided that enough is enough,” he declared. “These attacks have been a warning - if you do not produce Onewhisker and Barkface's killer, or killers, before the half-moon turns, then WindClan will refuse to acknowledge ThunderClan's place here at the lake.”

Shadepool's heart nearly stopped. It felt like the breath had been sucked from her lungs.

She wasn't the only one: “The fox-dung is that supposed to mean?” demanded Ashfur.

“It means war,” Tinystar explained, his tone soft and shockingly calm. “It means that Mudstar will not stop until ThunderClan is driven from the lake entirely.”

“Yes,” Crowflight confirmed, his tone quiet and heavy. “That is what that means.”

“You can't be serious!” gasped Graystripe.

“StarClan above,” muttered Mistyfoot.

Shadepool felt the entire forest whirl around her. She could count on one paw the number of known times one Clan had driven another fully out of their territory, and one of those times, it had been WindClan themselves who had been forced to flee. How could they use such a terrible tactic now, when there were cats alive who knew what it would be like? When Mudstar knew what it would be like?

“Those are the terms,” Crowflight meowed on. “What say you, Tinystar?”

Tinystar opened his mouth to respond, eyes full of quiet fury, but it was Nightfrost that pushed past him - ignoring a worried hiss from Mistyfoot - and thrust his muzzle right into Crowflight's face.

“How can you stand there and say that you'll drive us out after all we did to bring the Clans here?” Nightfrost cried, the desperation in his voice breaking. “How can you forget what Stormfur died for?"

Shadepool glanced at Mistyfoot. She looked horrified to the ends of her fur, her gaze pleading with this cat she had come to care for as a dear friend. Shadepool looked back at Crowflight. The WindClan deputy was staring down at Nightfrost, and Shadepool could see the thoughts bouncing in his head, the conflict that was making his thin legs tremble. She couldn't bear to look but couldn't afford to look away, either.

“Tell me!” Nightfrost demanded, baring his teeth.

“Get away from him, ThunderClan!” Emberstep hissed, drawing close.

Nightfrost stood stubbornly still. He shrieked, his little body trembling with emotion that rattled the thorns in Shadepool's head, “Tell me, Crow!”

Crowflight stared down at him, helpless. “I...”

Emberstep leaped, fastening her jaws into Nightfrost's scruff. She yanked him away from Crowflight, roughly tossing him away. Nightfrost slid into Mistyfoot's paws, where he lay still and quiet.

Shadepool moved to his side immediately, trembling from ears to tail. He was just lying there, staring off into nothingness, not even his whiskers stirring. She pressed an ear to Nightfrost's side and thanked StarClan when she felt his belly swell with a small breath - he was only in shock.

“Oh, no, you don't-” hissed Graystripe. He lunged for Emberstep, but Thorndusk cut him off, thrusting the gray tom away with a blow from her forepaws. Graystripe staggered back and hissed, looking twice his size and vicious beyond himself.

When Emberstep attempted to come closer to Nightfrost, both Tinystar and Mistyfoot blocked her, the two forming a solid wall to protect the stunned tom and Shadepool, who crouched over him. Whitetail drew close to back up her Clanmate, which made Ashfur circle behind, his tail lashing as he looked for an opportunity to pounce. Off to the side, Graystripe and Thorndusk were rounding one another, hissing and spitting.

“Stop this!” Shadepool wailed. Her heart was hurting so much. She stared into Crowflight's eyes, emotion stinging in her eyes. “Please!”

Crowflight's gaze was unfocused, like a startled deer.

How can you just stand there? Shadepool thought, begging for Crowflight to meet her eye. How can you just watch Nightfrost be tossed aside like prey?

It was useless. She knew he was too overwhelmed to respond.

Please, she pleaded. Her heart was like thunder in her ears, threatening to crack in two. Don't do this. Don't let this happen.

Finally, his eye dared to meet hers. As if her expression was enough to stabilize his mind, Crowflight got to his paws and yowled, “That's enough! Stand down!”

His warriors obeyed - even Emberstep, who hissed at Tinystar one last time before she slunk away. They began to file across the tree-bridge, going one at a time, waiting on the other shore for Crowflight. Their eyes gleamed with hostility.

When his warriors were gone, Crowflight meowed, his voice soft, “The message has been delivered. You have until the half-moon to deliver those responsible, or WindClan's fury will haunt your every step.”

Tinystar curled his lip. “I see what kind of deputy you have chosen to be, Crowflight, and I am disappointed. I heard you loud and clear.” He raised his chin -though Crowflight towered over him, Tinystar seemed even taller. “Tell Mudstar that ThunderClan is innocent, and we will be ready for him if he ever decides to show his own face and deliver his own messages.”

Crowflight opened his jaws, looking at Mistyfoot. Shadepool wondered if he was going to apologize, but a glance at Mistyfoot showed it would not be well received - the blue-gray she-cat's face was thunder and lightning, a cold fury patterned across her countenance that chilled Shadepool to the bone.

Fear crossed Crowflight's eyes at the sight, and he looked to Shadepool to spare himself. His gaze was heavy, tired, and full of some fathomless sorrow. The death of his mother had broken something in his heart, and the weight of what he knew was breaking his mind, but this had broken something else, something that Shadepool knew he thought was just as strong, maybe stronger.

She knew he wanted her to forgive him, and maybe deep down she did - she knew what his circumstances were - but right now, his actions felt like claws piercing her heart, deep and painful. She loved him so terribly, so much, but this was the first time she found herself with a question she was too terrified to answer:

What if Crowflight had truly become her enemy?