[TB] TWILIGHT -- Chapter 23 (Patreon)

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Shadepool and Nightfrost walked in silence.

As they picked their way around puddles of snowmelt, Shadepool tried not to be bothered by this. Tried, and failed: This was the first time the two of them had been alone in what felt like moons, and now they were on an urgent mission to save ThunderClan lives. She had thought that this would at least excite Nightfrost, but he seemed so subdued.

She tried to stick a paw through that barrier between them. Emotions from her brother had come through not long ago, and she sensed some slackness in the thorns, but it was still impossibly thick. She wasn't sure he could feel what she was trying to do.

Shadepool's heart ached. It had been such a foolish decision to separate them like she had, especially with no way to reverse it - now, the one cat she had been closer to than anyone seemed like he was all the way in the mountains despite walking just a pace ahead.

They leaped over a thin, fallen birch, splashing in a puddle below. Shadepool thought that her brother might make some remark or joke, but he didn't - he shook his paws out and trotted on, heading for the ShadowClan border. Shadepool followed, a fog of dismay weighing down on her pelt.

Pines, firs, and cedars began to mix in with the leafless trees of ThunderClan territory, and between their trunks, Shadepool spotted the old Twoleg nest and the stone walls of the garden it sheltered. Unfortunately, it was just too early on in newleaf for something to be growing there, and they hadn't time to check on it now.

The stream that formed half of the border between ThunderClan and ShadowClan territory was not far away. It was nothing compared to the rapid, rushing waters of the Divide, being narrow enough that the two cats cleared it with just a leap, passing easily over ShadowClan's sour-smelling scent line.

The atmosphere here was almost instantly different. The air was cold despite newleaf's arrival, and the ground here was soft, covered in a thick layer of pine needles shed over uncountable seasons. It muffled their pawsteps and made the woods seem quiet, unfamiliar, and dangerous. The smell of things hidden and musty, combined with the sharpness of pine sap, clogged Shadepool's senses.

“Where's ShadowClan's camp?” Shadepool asked. She hadn't been part of the group that investigated the lake and chosen the Clan's camps when they had arrived, but she had heard that ShadowClan was well hidden deep in the pines.

“If we follow the curve of the stream, it'll take us there,” Nightfrost answered.

Shadepool grimaced at his tone. He sounded so tired and defeated, like he was another cat entirely. She still longed to talk to him, but being in another Clan's unfamiliar territory was hard enough. If they were caught having a personal conversation and potentially scaring off ShadowClan prey, Shadepool knew their warriors wouldn't be so friendly.

She followed her brother upstream as the water wound through the steep hills surrounding this portion of the lake territories. The inclines here were nowhere near as sharp as on ThunderClan territory, but along their way, Shadepool spotted ravines and drops that would be just as dangerous if a cat grew complacent. She shivered, and not for the first time, she missed the low, easy land of the old forest.

Suddenly, Nightfrost halted. He lifted his head and pricked his ears, tasting the air.

Shadepool drew up beside him, confused. There was nothing around them but pine trees and the scrappy, leafless bushes that had managed to survive beneath their oppressive sun-hogging. Yet she could see the tension gathering in Nightfrost's shoulders and braced herself.

There was the faintest shuffle in the pine needles, and then: “I thought I heard ThunderClan paws stomping around...”

The rusty purr made Shadepool's heart swell. “Stoneheart!” she couldn't help but cry.

The gray tom almost melted out of the shadows of a tall cedar, his pale blue eyes calmly resting upon the two young cats. Shadepool was delighted to see him, and she sensed that Nightfrost was, too - until three other ShadowClan cats stepped out of the shadows to join Stoneheart: Wolftooth, Stoneheart's apprentice Rushpaw, and Blackfoot, the Clan deputy.

Anxiety rippled down Shadepool's spine. These three warriors were probably ShadowClan's strongest, and only Stoneheart looked even mildly alright with the presence of two ThunderClan cats. Not only that, but Shadepool spotted more than one healing scratch on their bodies - even little Rushpaw sported a nick in his ear that was still pink.

“What business do you have here?” It was Blackfoot who demanded this, stepping forward to stand beside Stoneheart. He was a menacing presence, his white pelt glowing like a ghost in the gloom.

It was his right to speak as deputy, but Shadepool wished they were talking with Stoneheart instead. “I've come to speak with Littlecloud,” she meowed.

“And I've come to talk to Russetstar,” Nightfrost added, “on Tinystar's behalf.”

Blackfoot snorted. “Is Tinystar sick?” he asked, looking between them.

“No,” Nightfrost countered, “but once I explain it to Russetstar, she'll understand why he couldn't come himself.”

Blackfoot's eyes flashed. “You can explain it to me, and I will decide whether or not it is worth Russetstar's time.”

Nightfrost grimaced, hunching his shoulders. Shadepool looked between the two cats, nervous. Was he worried things would turn out like they had with WindClan? With Blackfoot, it very well could.

She stepped forward and insisted, “We don't have time to bicker about this; lives are on the line!”

Stoneheart's eyes widened, touched with alarm. “Do you need herbs?” he asked.

“Yes,” Shadepool breathed, feeling relieved. If any cat in ShadowClan could empathize with ThunderClan, it would be Stoneheart. “We have a warrior with a bad infection and another with what could be whitecough - I need whatever Littlecloud can spare.”

Stoneheart glanced at Blackfoot, who looked at Wolftooth. The old gray warrior's expression was tight and grim, but then again, he always looked like that. Behind them, Rushpaw's eyes darted nervously, and Shadepool saw that he was rapidly flexing his claws.

She caught a faint trace of fear-scent in the air, a sourness she had smelled along their border markings, too. Coupled with their fresh wounds, it made Shadepool even more nervous. What's going on here?

“You,” Blackfoot demanded, glaring at Nightfrost. “What's your message?”

Nightfrost flicked his tail. He growled, “It's for Russetstar. Not you.”

“We can tell Russetstar,” Stoneheart insisted. He looked deep into Nightfrost's eyes. “We will.”

Nightfrost glanced at Shadepool, and she could only stare back, as confused as she was certain her brother was. Her heart thudded in her chest - she didn't like whatever was happening here - ShadowClan were naturally avoidant cats, but they were usually nothing like this.

“You can tell them,” she assured. It's not like we have much choice!

Nightfrost sighed. He swallowed and explained, “Mudstar has declared his intentions to drive ThunderClan away from the lake territories for good. Tinystar must know if Russetstar will consider aiding us when he attacks.”

The three ShadowClan warriors fell silent, stunned. Only Rushpaw hissed in indignation at the idea, his tail puffed out. Clearly, he hadn't been schooled in ShadowClan's usual stoicism towards the other Clans yet - or maybe he was thinking of Larchpaw, the friend he had made along the Great Journey, and the danger he would be in.

“We'll tell her,” Stoneheart rasped, finally.

“Thank you,” Nightfrost breathed. His gaze softened, relieved. “And the herbs?”

Stoneheart opened his jaws to speak, but Blackfoot interjected, his tone sharp as a claw: “We have none.”

Shadepool's eyes widened. “N-None?”

“None,” Blackfoot repeated firmly.

“None at all,” Nightfrost wondered, “or just none for us?”

“None!” Wolftooth snapped. The fur along his spine bristled, and Shadepool saw the gleam of his claws. “Now, get off our land before we force you!”

Shadepool stared at Stoneheart, beseeching him to help - but he was resolute, standing with his Clanmates. Shadepool's heart fell, and her hopes were crushed. That leaves only RiverClan, and who knows if they'll help?

“We're headed for RiverClan next,” Nightfrost managed to say. “But we'll be back through here if you change your mind.”

“We won't,” Blackfoot insisted. He flicked his thick tail towards the shoreline. “Keep to the lake as we agreed, and get off our land.” His eyes narrowed. “We will be watching.”

They had no choice but to obey. They backed away from the ShadowClan patrol and headed downhill toward the lakeshore. Shadepool could feel the eyes of the ShadowClan cats on them the entire way.

———————————————————

Sunhigh had come and gone by the time they left ShadowClan territory, and Shadepool could finally breathe again. She had expected some resistance to sharing herbs, but she hadn't expected the sudden hostility nor Stoneheart's unwillingness to vouch for them to his Clanmates.

She wished they had encountered Stoneheart alone, without his fellow ShadowClan cats. As a cat born in another Clan, Stoneheart would always have to put up a tougher front to prove his loyalty to them - alone, though, he could drop the pretense and act more naturally.

A thought tickled at the back of her mind: ShadowClan has had a lot of recent injuries, but there have been no reports of battles between them and RiverClan, and no fights between them and us.

That only meant one thing: Something on their own territory was bothering them, and Littlecloud was probably using every herb he had on his own Clanmates. Shadepool shivered - that might explain the fear-scent in their border markers, but what could it be that the Clans hadn't fought with for seasons? Foxes? Badgers?

Whatever it was, she hoped they dealt with it soon. ShadowClan was crabby enough as it was; them acting like this all the time would just be miserable.

They took a break by the lakeshore - not to hunt, because now they were on RiverClan land, but to catch their breath after being hurried through the pines on trails they didn't know. Shadepool took a moment to pull a stubborn pine needle from between her toes while Nightfrost staggered a few pawsteps away and slumped down onto his haunches, hanging his head low.

Slowly, his mood trickled into Shadepool's mind through the gaps in the vines - a dark and miserable fog, like a gloomy cloud over her head.

“Night?” Shadepool mewed, concerned. “Brother?”

“Leave me alone,” Nightfrost mumbled drearily.

Shadepool shuffled over to his side and sat with him, pressing her pelt against her brother's. The gloom in her head was thickening, coating the closed-off walls of her mind like the bitter taste of herbs. She shook her head, trying to dislodge it, but it wouldn't budge.

“Night, please,” she begged. This feeling was so oppressive! “Tell me what's wrong. I'm right here.”

Nightfrost snorted derisively. “Now you want to hear what's on my mind?”

His words stung, and rightfully so. Shadepool breathed, as sincere as she could, “I do.”

Nightfrost didn't stir. “It was all for nothing, Shadepool. All of it.” His voice broke. “The journeys, the loss, Sandstorm, Stormfur...”

He raised his muzzle, finally, and looked into her eyes. She saw in his gaze the thick layer of misery she felt in her mind.

“We brought them all here, fought and died for it - and now, WindClan wants to drive us out,” Nightfrost choked. His gaze shimmered. “Feathertail left her own Clan! Stoneheart won't even defend us to ShadowClan. And now Crowflight...”

He took in a breath. “When we were made warriors, Tallstar and Tinystar wanted us to symbolize how the Clans can come and work together for a better future.” He took a deep, shuddering breath and burst, “And then I was there as Crowflight said he and his Clan would drive us out!”

Shadepool's pelt prickled with horror.

“How am I supposed to feel about that, Shade? Please - tell me!” Nightfrost demanded. The fur along his spine bristled, and his eyes were wide and desperate. “I loved Crowflight like a brother, and I watched as he fell in love with my own sister! The same mouth that said we were friends and would be, forever, no matter what, turned around and told me he would kill us for something I know he knows we didn't do!”

A lump formed in Shadepool's throat. The storm of misery in her mind was crackling with thunder that felt like anger and resentment waiting to strike. She dug her claws into the soil, bracing herself.

“I know you love him,” Nightfrost whispered, “and I just didn't want to spoil that for you.”

“Have you spoken to Mistyfoot about this, at least?” Shadepool wondered, feeling weak.

Nightfrost shook his head. His limbs trembled. “I guess I'm just used to talking to you about everything...” he admitted. “I wanted to handle things on my own. I didn't want to bother either of you with my feelings.” He choked on a sob. “But I just can't take it anymore!”

Shadepool touched her nose to her brother's forehead. “I'm so sorry, Night. I made you think that I didn't care about how you feel - I do. I do so much, and...” Emotion welled in her, filling up her chest. “And I was jealous of you and Mistyfoot. How easy it all was for you.”

“Jealous?” Nightfrost murmured. He scoffed. “There's nothing to be jealous of.”

And then the thorns opened.

Shadepool felt like she was drowning in her brother's emotions, but she relaxed and let herself ride the wave instead of fighting to come to the surface. She could feel his love for Mistyfoot, her bravery and compassion, and even her ferocity. It was warm and protective, almost exactly like Shadepool's feelings for Crowflight.

She closed her eyes and saw Mistyfoot sleeping, her paws twitching in some dream. She saw her mouth a name, and Shadepool's heart ached for Nightfrost. He lay beside Mistyfoot, soothing her with a lick between the ears.

“I love her.” Nightfrost's voice was quiet in Shadepool's ear. “I love her so much - but she doesn't need a mate. She needs a friend. So that's what I've been, and that's what I'll be until she changes her mind - if she ever does.”

“Oh, Night...” Shadepool opened her eyes.

“See, I've been jealous of you,” Nightfrost whispered. He was hunched over, his shoulders sharp against his small frame. “You and Crowflight might be going against every rule the Clans have ever made, but you're brave enough to do it despite all that. You both love each other. You're strong enough to believe there's still good in him.”

Nightfrost sagged. “I'm not. Not anymore.”

“That's not true,” Shadepool insisted. “Not one word of it!” Didn't her brother feel her own doubts and worries about Crowflight now that the barrier was gone?

“Maybe,” Nightfrost murmured. “Maybe not. I just don't know anymore. The Great Journey was just meaningless. What else do I have from it that I can hold onto but Mistyfoot?”

Shadepool rested her muzzle on her brother's shoulder. “You have me,” she whispered. “You'll always have me.”

———————————————————

The pair reached the RiverClan camp before being spotted, the evening light turning the world pale orange. They had walked along the lakeshore in silence, but unlike how they started this trip, they spent this silence catching up with one another in their minds, sharing that space once again, as they had since they were kits.

A patrol of Heronleap and Mackarelshine caught them - the two were just heading out to hunt, and Heronleap was irritated at having to walk right back into camp with two visitors in tow. Mackarelshine seemed more amused than anything, at least. With Nightfrost so close again, Shadepool felt safer than ever.

Shadepool remembered RiverClan's camp from when the chosen cats had sheltered here with Midnight. They had settled right in, building their elaborate woven dens and decorating them with shells and stones like Feathertail had described. Their clearing was sheltered by the bending boughs of a huge willow, and Shadepool spotted new buds on its branches. The scent of water and fish was in the air, mixed with the musk of RiverClan as every cat in camp rose to greet them with guarded curiosity.

It was Leopardstar who spoke first, from her perch upon a rounded boulder caught in the roots of the big willow: “What business have you with RiverClan?”

Nightfrost used the same words he had told Blackfoot: “Mudstar has declared his intentions to drive ThunderClan away from the lake territories for good. Tinystar must know if you will consider aiding us when he attacks.”

Below Leopardstar, Tawnypelt's patchy face looked shocked. “This can't be true, can it?” she meowed, aghast.

“It is, unfortunately,” Nightfrost told her.

Several of RiverClan's warriors mumbled worriedly. Shadepool sensed the news was a huge shock, and they clearly didn't approve.

“Does Mudstar fancy himself another Brokentail?” growled Falcontail. Another ripple passed through the crowd at the mention of that cruel old cat.

“But if you did kill Onewhisker and Barkface...” mumbled a white tom, Frostsplash.

Another murmur flowed through the RiverClan cats like the water they loved. Shadepool felt Nightfrost tense up again, worries prickling in her mind from him. Shadepool felt her heart beat faster - if the other two Clans had decided ThunderClan was responsible for those deaths, why would they even bother to help?

But Leopardstar cut the speculation short: “Tell Tinystar that I will consider it,” she said, looking down her muzzle at the two. Her eyes sharpened onto Shadepool, then. “I understand that you have a request, as well?”

“Herbs, Leopardstar,” Shadepool meowed, fighting to keep a tremor from her voice. “ThunderClan has injured and sick cats, and the herbs on our land will be slow to return. Anything you can spare would be a blessing.”

Leopardstar narrowed her eyes. Shadepool knew it would be a long shot to ask for herbs after they had just pleaded for help - Leopardstar was a prickly, proud cat who historically did nothing for free, especially for ThunderClan.

Tawnypelt twitched her whiskers. “That would be for Mothwing to decide, wouldn't it?” she suggested.

“It would,” Leopardstar agreed, her tone terse. She gestured with her tail to a secluded part of the camp, kept hidden by the dragging branches of the willow. “Feel free to ask her. I shall abide by what she decides.”

“Thank you, Leopardstar,” Shadepool meowed, gratefully. Mothwing would most assuredly help. “Brackenfur and I, and all of ThunderClan, thank you.”

Leopardstar curled her lip but said nothing more. When she hopped down from the smooth stone, her Clan broke apart into their own little groups to discuss what had been said, though Shadepool felt more than one pair of eyes piercing her pelt as she headed over to the medicine cat's den, Nightfrost just a step behind her.

Mothwing's new den was a cozy place, hidden in a bed of reeds as it had been in the old forest. Mothwing had set up several old, hollow logs to store her herbs and had several smaller dens made of the same woven material for her patients to shelter in privacy. She even had access to the shallow, flowing waters of the streams that surrounded RiverClan's camp.

Shadepool's nose twitched, and her heart leaped. Herbs! It smelled like Mothwing had plenty, and quite the variety, too. How did she manage that in leafbare?

Mothwing appeared a moment later, stretching as she left one of the woven dens near the back. When she spotted Shadepool she trilled a happy greeting and hurried to touch noses. Shadepool breathed in her comforting scent and was thankful there wasn't a hair of hostility on Mothwing's gorgeous pelt.

After Shadepool explained the details of Larchpaw's and Dustpelt's situations, Mothwing immediately said, “Of course I can help!”

“Thank StarClan,” Shadepool breathed. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

Beside her, Nightfrost meowed gratefully, “ThunderClan is in your debt, Mothwing.”

Mothwing waved her tail. “Shadepool would do the same for me,” she said. “I know because she has!”

Heartbeats later, Shadepool, Nightfrost, and Mothwing were tying up herbs in bundles in the orange light of sunset. Mothwing obviously couldn't give away the whole store, but she had so many plants that Shadepool knew ThunderClan wouldn't see for moons - comfrey, coltsfoot, marigold, feverfew...

“...haven't found catmint yet,” Mothwing admitted, tying off her bundle. “But I've got nearly everything else!”

“How in StarClan's name do you have some of these? Some don't even grow until greenleaf!” Shadepool wondered, awestruck. Was Mothwing somehow blessed with a divine nose? Had RiverClan been given an unfair advantage?

Mothwing purred. “I have my ways - if you'll indulge me, Shadepool, I'd love to show you.”

“Please!”

“Shade, we have to get back,” Nightfrost reminded her.

Shadepool glanced at her brother, feeling his uncertainty. “I know, but-”

Mothwing whisked her tail. “Now, Nightfrost, don't worry a whisker about it! In fact - I need to ask Shadepool a favor.”

Shadepool pricked her ears. “Y-You do?” she stammered.

Mothwing nodded. “I'd like you to stay the night in exchange for the herbs. I'll even have a warrior sent with Nightfrost to help bring them back.” When Nightfrost stiffened, his eyes widening, Mothwing added: “She'll be back to ThunderClan before sundown tomorrow, all in one piece - you have my word as not just a medicine cat, but as a warrior, too.”

Nightfrost glanced at Shadepool. Trepidation clogged her throat. She could say no, probably, and everything would be fine - but Mothwing was a friend, and beyond that, she did owe Mothwing for covering for her at the last Gathering without questioning it, not to mention for the precious herbs she was giving away now.

“It's okay,” Shadepool told Nightfrost. “Brackenfur will understand.”

Nightfrost hesitated. She felt him reach for Shadepool's certainty, which she offered him freely. Finally, with a flick of his tail, he decided, “Alright. But if she's not back by sundown...”

Mothwing nodded. “I know - Tinystar will be livid. Don't worry!”

And then, as quickly as they arrived in RiverClan, Nightfrost was leaving, followed by Mackarelshine, both of their jaws stuffed with the wraps of herbs they had made. Shadepool watched him go, conscious of the questioning eyes burning into her pelt. Every cat wanted to know why she was staying, but Mothwing's presence was enough to pass it off as some medicine cat thing, for now.

When Nightfrost was out of sight, Shadepool felt for him and sighed in relief when she registered his presence. Knowing where he was would be a great comfort in the camp of another Clan - she could ask for help without having to yowl.

“Alright,” Mothwing mewed, whisking her tail. “Ready to go?”

“Right now?” It was getting very dark out. Shadepool looked at Mothwing, confused.

Mothwing nodded. “Right now,” she confirmed. Grinning, she purred, “Think you can keep up?”