The Trail's End
Freezing wind swept over the barren face of the mountain, sending icy flakes swirling across the rocks. Leafbare had held its cruel grip over the stone hills for some moons already. Only a few scraggly plants and trees still clung to the rocks, too stubborn to yield to the fierce cold and winds of the mountains. Every surface was covered in a light dusting of snow, and more would come soon. The crevices in the rocks offered little shelter from the biting cold, and the few plants offered little for animals to eat. This was no place for living creatures.
The gray tom gave a contented sigh. Once, seasons upon seasons ago, he had called his barren place home.
All around him, cats were lying in groups, pelts fluffed out against the wind and snow. The borders of the four Clans were forgotten as they huddled together, hunched over in shared misery. Every cat's pelt was stretched over their bones, and their eyes all glowed with a dull grief.
The tom approached a group of warriors. Though he came near enough for his pelt to brush against theirs, the warriors didn't so much as glance at him. He could see misery glowing in their eyes. A black queen was hunched over, pelt trembling with grief, a low moan escaping her. A gray she-cat pressed against her, murmuring words of comfort, but her tone was hollow. The rest of the group was too lost in their own grief to pay attention the queen.
"They have lost so much already." The gray tom looked up, meeting the mournful gaze of a ginger tabby. "How much more must they lose?"
As the tom gazed at the ginger tabby, he could see the sun shining through her pelt, which was as insubstantial as mist. All around the Clans, misty shapes were moving, picking their way among the living warriors with grief glowing in their eyes.
"No one can tell, Hawk Swoop," a black-and-white tom murmured. His dark green gaze was soft with pity. "None of us can see clearly the path that lies ahead of the Clans."
The other spirits murmured their agreement. "They do not know these mountains," a white she-cat mewed. "They have forgotten this was once their home. They do not know how to survive here. They don't know how to hunt as we did, and if they can't learn to hunt here, they'll starve."
"Their quest is now as frail as a cobweb," a brown tabby murmured. Her blue eyes glowed with pity as she gazed at the black queen, still moaning her grief. "One apprentice fallen to his death, another kit nearly lost to an eagle. So many cats were lost before they left their forest, and now they have lost more."
"They can't survive here," a black tom growled, his tail lashing behind him. "Everything we've worked for will be lost if they can't find their way out of the mountains in time. Our sacrifices and our effort will all have been for nothing. The Clans will fall."
The group of spirits broke out into worried cries and mews. The tom could see fear in their eyes, fear of all they'd worked to build crumbling into ruin. But before they could become lost to their terror, a black she-cat pushed her way to the center of the group. Her green gaze was hard as it swept across her fellow spirits. "Do not be so quick to give up your faith in our descendants," she said in a mew sharp with authority. Though many seasons had passed since she had walked among the living and guided their paws, she still held herself with the strength and pride of any leader. "The Clans have faced dangers before, and have endured. We followed the Sun Trail once and survived the journey."
"Not all of us," mewed a brown-and-white tabby. She met the black she-cat's gaze with a challenging glare of her own.
Shame glowed in the black she-cat's eyes for a moment. "No, not all of us," she allowed, dipping her head to the she-cat. "Just as not every Clan cat will live to see their new home. The path they take is dangerous. But enough will live for the Clans to survive, and thrive, in their new home. Have faith in the code we gave our lives to build. The Clans have the strength to survive this journey."
For the first time, the gray tom spoke. "I agree with Shadowstar," he called out clearly. The other cats turned to glance at him. "We must believe in our living kin. We have watched over all of them from their first breaths, and we know each of them by name and by their hearts. I know that they have the strength for what is to come. And they will need us to be strong for them, if they're going to get through this journey alive."
"What's the point?" a gray-and-white tom grumbled. "They can't see us anyway. We can't comfort them if they don't even know we're here."
A fluffy black tom with a white chest approached the gray-and-white tom. "They cannot see us now," he rumbled. "But when we reach our new home, they will need our guidance once again. We cannot guide them if we have become scattered and divided by fear."
The black-and-white tom lifted his chin, dark green eyes glowing with determination. "Cloud Spots is right," he called to the rest of the spirits. Shaded Moss had not lived to earn the nine lives of a Clan leader, but he was as respected as any Clan leader by the spirits of StarClan, as the leader of the cats who had followed the Sun Trail. "We cannot lose hope. Tonight, we will watch over our living Clanmates, and tomorrow we will walk beside them as they journey through the mountains."
There were some grumbles, but no cat argued with Shadowstar and Shaded Moss further. The spirits settled in beside their living Clanmates, offering whatever small comfort they could through the closeness of their pelts. The gray tom crouched beside an elderly black-and-white tom, pressing his dark pelt against the elder's side. Every bone was showing on the WindClan leader's pelt, and he was shaking like a leaf, even with his deputy and medicine cat pressed against him for warmth. The gray tom gazed sadly at the elder. He didn't need to see the future clearly to know that this tom would not survive to see his Clan settled into their new home.
"Gray Wing." The tom looked up as a pretty tortoiseshell approached him. His gaze softened as he recognized her. He shifted over, giving her room to settled in beside him, her pelt pressed against his. "How is Tallstar faring?"
Gray Wing sighed. "Not well," he admitted to the tortoiseshell. "He already has one paw in StarClan. It can't be long before he joins us."
The tortoiseshell gazed at the elderly tom, sympathy glowing in her green eyes. "WindClan will lose another leader," she murmured. "Many of his Clanmates were not yet born before he took the leadership of his Clan. How will they fare now, with their leader gone, and with no way for Mudclaw to earn his nine lives?"
"I don't know," Gray Wing mewed. He pressed his muzzle against the tortoiseshell's cheek, breathing in her sweet scent. "But we have to trust in their strength, Turtle Tail. They will survive."
Turtle Tail just blinked slowly at the tom, her expression weary. "When we left the mountains to find a new home, I never thought I would have to watch that home be destroyed," she murmured. She turned her head, her gaze sweeping over the living cats huddled on the rocks. "Even Stoneteller couldn't have foretold this. This time, we can't do anything but watch as our descendants starve."
Gray Wing followed her gaze, looking over the starving, miserable mass of cats around them. When StarClan had learned of the destruction of the forest, the cats who had followed the Sun Trail all those moons ago had chosen to walk beside the living Clans for their trek, rather than making the journey beside their starry Clanmates. They had wanted to guide their living kin as they took the route Gray Wing and his Tribemates had taken so many seasons ago. When they reached the mountains, they could brush pelts with the kin they had left behind seasons upon seasons ago, and then they would journey beside the Clans as they made their way to the lake, the place where it had all began. Whether the Clans knew it or not, they were coming home once more, and Gray Wing wanted to walk beside them when it happened.
But the future wasn't as clear as Gray Wing wished. There was still so much that could go wrong on the Clans' journey. One wrong move could mean death for all of them. If they didn't leave the mountains soon, they would starve one by one, and many were already not strong enough to survive the time it would take to reach the other side. Some of the sun-drown quest cats hoped to find the Tribe to ask their aid, but they were too hopelessly lost to ever find them, and the spirits did not have enough power to alert the Tribe to the presence of the Clans.
Gray Wing's gaze swept over the clearing, across all of the pelts that dotted the snowy slope of the mountain. He had watched over every single one of these cats from birth, watching their first steps, their first hunts, the days they'd earned their names, all of the good times and the bad. He knew every last one of these cats as well as his own kits. Nearly all of them were his kin in some way or another, whether by being descended from his three kits with Slate, from Jagged Peak's kits with Holly, or from Thunder or Skystar's kits in their own Clans. Some of Skystar's blood had found its way into ThunderClan as well, through the kits that Cloudstar had left behind when SkyClan had been driven from the forest. Even the cats that weren't his kin, however, were as precious to Gray Wing as if they were, because they all kept alive the warrior code and the moral duty to protect each other that Gray Wing had lived and died for. He knew they all had the hearts of warriors, and he knew they had the strength to meet the challenges that lay ahead of them.
As much as he trusted in the strength of the Clans, however, he knew they were not mountain cats. They had perfected the skills they needed to live in the forest, but in return had forgotten the ways of mountain life. They didn't know how to bait and catch an eagle, or how to find water among the rocks, or how to find shelter when the weather got bad. They were as helpless as kits against the harsh conditions here. Unless they were able to escape the mountains before the weather got any worse, Gray Wing knew that they were all going to die. The sun-drown cats were the Clans' guides, but they couldn't remember how to find the Tribe, or how to lead the Clans safely out of the mountains. The Clans were losing morale fast.
Gray Wing sighed, nuzzling against the side of his mate. The challenges that the Clans were facing were some of the hardest they'd seen yet. But they had lived through hard times before, and they had survived. He knew in his heart the the Clans had the strength to see themselves through the mountains. He just had to trust in their strength, and hope.
SCENEBREAK
Days had passed. The Clans were still in the mountains, and any semblance of hope was starting to crumble away to nothing. Even Gray Wing was beginning to worry that the Clans would not survive for much longer.
The Clans had stopped to rest for the night. Gray Wing and Jagged Peak had just returned from accompanying a WindClan hunting patrol. Tornear, Robinwing, and Thistlepaw had done their best, but they hadn't been able to bring back anything. Gray Wing had been so frustrated while walking beside them. He'd ached to tell them how they needed to be still and silent while hunting in the mountains, or how the best way to catch prey was to bait an eagle and bring it down. But there was no way that he could communicate with the warriors. He'd been forced to watch his living Clanmates give up and return to their Clanmates empty-pawed. Now all of the patrols had returned to camp, and only a few cats remained out, trying desperately to bring back something, anything for the Clans to eat.
While the rest of the spirits stayed beside the Clans, Gray Wing decided to go for a walk. His paws tred lightly over the thick layer of snow covering the rocks as he walked along. While the living cats had to trudge their way through the snow, his paws were light enough to walk on top to it.
The tom closed his eyes as the cold mountain breeze threaded through his fur, letting out a soft sigh. Even with the destruction of the Clans he loved so near at hand, there was still a feeling of relief to finally be back in the mountains, his first home. He knew every step of these mountains. Even after so many seasons had passed, he could name every landmark, the places where squirrels foraged, where birds liked to perch. The moor had been his true home, but in his heart, he still loved the mountains. The barren rocks, the gnarled trees, the blasting wind with the biting cold of ice and snow – all of it was as precious to him as the gentle slopes and the scent of heather on the moor. His heart ached with mixed feelings of grief and joy as he followed the paths he had walked so many seasons ago, as a young hunter of the Tribe.
A tinge of regret pricked at Gray Wing's paws as he glanced at the empty spot beside him, where a pale gray pelt had once brushed against his own. All of the cats who had followed the Sun Trail were with StarClan – but those that had walked with SkyClan in life walked in a different sky. Skystar had followed his living kin when his Clan was exiled from the forest, as had Quick Water and all of the other SkyClan spirits. Moon Shadow and Falling Feather had both lived in Skystar's camp in life, but had chosen their kin in the rest of StarClan over their former leader. They walked now with the rest of the followers of the Sun Trail, but Quick Water and Skystar were still with SkyClan's ancestors.
Gray Wing missed the feeling of his brother's pelt against his own. He wished his brother could walk beside him now, and that they could walk the Sun Trail again one last time. His brother had walked a dark path for a time in life. He and Gray Wing had stood on opposite sides of the battle field, in the days when Skystar's greed pushed him to claim as much territory as he could. But Gray Wing knew that his brother's strength, and fierce determination to protect his Clan, was exactly what the Clans needed right now.
As Gray Wing walked along, his attention was caught by a nearby rustling. His ears swiveled around to catch the sound. He turned to see a small ginger she-cat trudging alone through the snow, ice clinging to her thick pelt in clumps. Gray Wing recognized her as one of the cats from the sun-drown quest, the ThunderClan apprentice named Squirrelpaw. The spirit changed his course, slowing to walk beside Squirrelpaw as she struggled through the mounds of snow in her search for prey.
There was a fond warmth in his chest as he gazed at the apprentice. Squirrelpaw, like all of the cats who had gone on the sun-drown quest, was his kin. She was descended from Skystar's line through Cloudstar. Gray Wing had watched over her and her friends on their sun-drown quest, and he had watched her and the others lead the Clans to the mountains. In more ways than one, Squirrelpaw reminded him of another stubborn young tabby who had left to join a quest that he hadn't been invited to. He had helped Jagged Peak then; he only wished there was a way he could help Squirrelpaw too. But she couldn't see him, and he couldn't speak to her, or tell her just how close she was to finding the Tribe. Frustration pricked at his paws. His descendants were dying, and there was nothing he could do to save them.
Gray Wing turned away, tail waving slowly behind him as he began walking away from the apprentice. He wanted to see more of his kithood home before returning to the Clans for the night. There was nothing he could do for Squirrelpaw by staying beside her for her hunt.
As he padded softly across the snow, the tom kept his ears perked. He could not hunt prey in the living world, but he wanted to see the living things that moved in the mountains once more, to hear the rustle of a mouse, and the beat of an eagle's wing. Memories upon memories of his earl life in the mountains kept seeping into his mind. He could remember countless hunts beside Skystar, playing with Jagged Peak and Fluttering Bird, and being scolded by Quiet Rain.
For a moment, he felt a pang of sadness. Stoneteller had sent cats to follow the Sun Trail because there wasn't enough prey in the mountains, but it had not been a bad home. Even through the hard times and the death of his sister, Gray Wing had so many good memories of the mountains. They had thought that the forest would offer them shelter from the hardships of the mountains, but it had only replaced them with new troubles and new challenges. And now, the Clans were facing their greatest trouble ever. Gray Wing could only hope that coming back to the mountains, where they had fled starvation so many seasons ago, would this time somehow save the Clans from starvation. He didn't know what else there was to do at this point but hope, and he was quickly running out of that.
Suddenly, the sound of nearby paws on snow caught Gray Wing's ear. He turned to face the sound, ears perked. The sound was coming from higher up the mountain. Gray Wing crouched for a moment, bunching his haunches under him, then bounded further up the slope. He slowed, then came to a halt beside a boulder, peering through the gusts of swirling snow to see where the sound had come from.
Three figures stood several fox-lengths away, shrouded by thick sheets of falling snow. The bitter leafbare wind assaulted their pelts, but unlike the Clan warriors, these cats didn't seem bothered by the wind. They trotted easily through the snow, their thick pelts covering hard muscle, earned from moons of the harsh mountain life.
Relief coursed through Gray Wing's pelt. He had not watched over these cats like he had watched over the Clans, but he didn't need to have watched over them from kithood to know who they were. These were cats of the Tribe of Rushing Water.
Two toms and a she-cat were pushing through the mounds of snow with the brisk confidence of life-long mountain cats. The tom at the head of the patrol was a massive brown tabby, with a jagged scar running across his face. Gray Wing recognized him as Talon of Swooping Eagle, a cave-guard of the Tribe. The slender she-cat was Night of No Stars, and the gray tom was Jagged Rock Where Heron Sits, also cave-guards. He was surprised to see that none of the cats were prey-hunters – had the harder hunting weather required the Tribe to send out extra hunting patrols, even if there weren't enough prey-hunters to spare?
Gray Wing glanced back the way he came, a thought slowly growing in his mind. Talon and Jag both knew Squirrelpaw well. If they found her in the snow, they would be willing to help the Clans find shelter in the Cave of Rushing Water. Squirrelpaw was only a few tree-lengths away. It wouldn't take much for the cave-guards to find her.
The spirit watched the patrol as they padded closer, thinking. Being ripped away from their homes, and from the Moonstone that had connected them, had drained StarClan of their ability to contact the Clans, and had clouded the Clans' ability to see their ancestors. There was no way that Gray Wing could alert Squirrelpaw to the presence of the cave-guards. He couldn't speak to his ThunderClan kin.
But the cave-guards were his kin too. Gray Wing had died a WindClan cat, but a part of his heart had always belonged to the Tribe he'd left behind. He was an ancestor of the Tribe just as much as he was of the Clans. Unlike the Clans, the Tribe still had the Cave of Pointed Stones, which kept them connected to their ancestors. They were not cut off from the Tribe of Endless Hunting the way that the Clans were cut off from StarClan.
Gray Wing took a deep breath, then approached the patrol. He was an ancestor of the Tribe as much as the Tribe of Endless Hunting. He had to try and make the living Tribe cats see him. The survival of the Clans could well depend on it.
At first, the cave-guards didn't react to the approaching tom at all. Jag was ducking his head against a fierce blast of wind and snow, and Night was grumbling to Talon about the lack of prey. But as Gray Wing drew nearer, Talon brought his head up sharply, his amber gaze narrowed as he peered through the swirling snow. "Wait," he said in a low voice to his companions.
Talon's Tribemates were instantly alert at their leader's command. "What is it?" Night asked, her muscles tensed as her gaze scanned the mountainside.
"I'm not sure," Talon said, his gaze fixed on where Gray Wing stood. "I think I can see something up ahead."
Jag's ears flew forward with interest. "Prey?" he asked.
Talon's eyes narrowed. "Maybe," he allowed. "It's too far off to tell."
Gray Wing slowed to a halt, his tail waving slowly behind him. Hope lit like a small flame in his chest. Even if they weren't sure what they were seeing, even if he was too faded an image for them to make out, they had seen him.
"Whatever it is, we should check it out," Night mewed to her fellow cave-guards. "If it's prey, we can bring it back for the fresh-kill pile. If not, we need to know whether some other animal has moved onto the mountain, and if it'll be a danger to our prey-hunters." There was a note of fear in her mew as she added, "The Tribe of Endless Hunting knows that we don't need another Sharptooth on the mountain."
Talon gave a small nod, a low growl in his throat. "You're right. Come on." With a sharp flick of his tail, the massive tom began leading his patrol towards where Gray Wing stood.
Gray Wing waited a few moments as the patrol approached, then turned and began trotting away. He had gotten the patrol's attention as he'd wanted. He only hoped he could get them to see him long enough to follow him to Squirrelpaw.
The spirit continued down the slope, keeping at a steady trot, and looking over his shoulder every few steps to make sure the cave-guards were still following him. Talon kept his narrowed gaze on Gray Wing's faint outline all the way, continuing to follow the tom at a slow trot. The Tribe cats kept low, following briskly after the spirit, as though stalking prey. They followed him further down the mountain until they had nearly reached Squirrelpaw. Then, Talon slowed to a halt, his companions halting beside him. "I... I can't see it anymore," the tom said, his tone uncertain as his gaze flitted around the barren mountainside. Gray Wing held his breath, glancing back behind, where he knew Squirrelpaw waited only tail-lengths away behind a boulder.
"It must have heard us coming and ran off," Jag reasoned. He shook ice out of his fur, fluffing out his dark pelt. "Whatever it was, it wasn't big enough to be another Sharptooth. It's probably nothing to worry about."
Night nodded, adding, "We can warn the patrols to keep an eye out. But we should probably get back to hunting for now."
Talon hesitated. His gaze was still searching the barren rocks, his expression taut with concentration. But his amber gaze swept right past Gray Wing. The spirit felt a pang of unease, slumping against the snow as the energy seeped from his muscles. The long journey away from his hunting grounds had drained Gray Wing of his strength and power as much as the rest of StarClan. The effort of staying visible to the living Tribe cats had exhausted him. They were so close to Squirrelpaw, but he couldn't make himself seen any longer. They would have to discover the apprentice on their own.
As Gray Wing watched with bated breath, the patrol began to turn away. But they didn't get very far before Jag stiffened, glancing behind them. "Wait!" he called to his Tribemates. "Can you smell it?"
Gray Wing lifted his muzzle to sniff the air, as did Talon and Night. As he sorted through the scents on the cold breeze, he realized what had caught Jag's attention. There was the strong scent of a falcon nearby, as well as shrew blood. As he listened, he could just hear the sound of its claws against the snow and the sounds of it feasting on the shrew over the blasting of the wind. Memories of hunts long forgotten flooded through Gray Wing's mind. He ached with the desire to join Talon and his patrol in their hunt, to once again feel the wild joy of leaping high to dig his claws into the falcon as it fled, and wrestle the beast to the ground. But he could no longer walk beside the living in that way. All he could do was hope.
Instantly, all three cave-guards dropped into hunting crouches. They slunk briskly towards the ledge overlooking where the falcon ate. They waited for a few moments, peering at their meal through the mist. Then, all three cave-guards pounced. A shriek rang out from the falcon, before being cut off, and there were snarls and growls from the cave-guards. Then, silence. Gray Wing waited a few moments longer to get his breath back, then slowly approached them, padding around the boulder to see their hunt.
Relief flooded through Gray Wing's weary limbs at the sight that awaited him. Night and Jag were crouched over the falcon, which lay dead under their paws. Talon was a few paces away, and had pinned a surprised Squirrelpaw to the ground. He snarled in her face for a few moments before recognition flared in his eyes. "Squirrelpaw?" he said in a stunned growl. The snarl died in his throat, surprise glowing in his eyes. "What are you doing here?" Night and Jag left the falcon behind, coming to stand behind Talon as he helped pull Squirrelpaw to her paws. She was staring at the cave-guards in stunned awe, as though she couldn't believe they were there.
Finally, she seemed to find her voice again. "We've left the forest," she told the Tribe cats. "We're traveling over the mountains."
"Again?" Talon asked, narrowing his eyes.
Squirrelpaw gave a small nod. "We're all going this time," she explained.
Talon blinked at her. "All?" he repeated, sounding confused.
"The four Clans." The apprentice hung her head, her exhaustion seeming to catch up with her. Even though her thick, snow-crusted pelt, Gray Wing could count every one of her ribs. "We couldn't stay in the forest any longer. There was too much destruction. But we never thought the journey would be this hard! Smokepaw fell into a ravine, and then an eagle tried to carry off Marshkit..."
Talon's eyes flew open wide in shock, and Gray Wing could see Night and Jag stiffen behind him. "Kits? Out here?" he demanded. "Are you mad? You must bring all of these cats to the Cave of Rushing Water and rest. Where did you leave them?"
Gray Wing didn't hear Squirrelpaw's reply. Relief crashed over him like a wave, so strong that it nearly took him off of his paws. He had been right. The cave-guards had taken pity on the Clans, and now they would be led to the Cave of Rushing Water, where they would be safe. He had done it.
Once Squirrelpaw told Talon where the Clans were sheltering, he sent Night and Jag ahead of him to meet them. The massive cave-guard scooped up the dead falcon in his jaws, then began bounding away, Squirrelpaw struggling to keep up beside him. Gray Wing let them run ahead of him, following behind at a slower pace. Though his pelt still trembled with the effort of staying visible for so long, a contented warmth sat in his chest. Cats of the Tribe had found the Clans. They would be able to lead the Clans to the Cave of Rushing Water, where they would finally be safe. They could shelter from the cold, eat their fill, and regain the strength they needed to finish their journey. The relief in his heart grew and grew as he realized that the doom they had all feared was not going to befall the Clans. They were finally safe.
His former Tribemates were waiting when he arrived at Tree-rock, where the Clans were sheltering. The living cats were exclaiming in excitement at the arrival of the Tribe cats, but the spirits were silent. The joy and relief that glowed in their eyes told Gray Wing that they understood what the arrival of the Tribe cats meant as well as he did. One by one, they approached Gray Wing, purring their relief and thanking the tom. Hawk Swoop and Rainswept Flower both purred loudly as they greeted the gray tom, warmth and joy glowing in their eyes. Jagged Peak bumped his muzzle against his brother's cheek, Shaded Moss dipped his head in deepest respect, and even the grumpier toms like Jackdaw's Cry and Moon Shadow gazed at Gray Wing with sincere gratitude as they touched noses with him.
"Well done, old friend," Shadowstar murmured as she brushed muzzles with her former Tribemate and fellow leader. "The Clans owe you more than they know." Gray Wing said nothing in reply, simply dipping his head in respect to the she-cat who had once been his leader.
Turtle Tail was the last to approach Gray Wing. She was purring as loud as all of TigerClan, butting her muzzle against his cheek. "Our Clans are safe now," she murmured. "Thanks to you." When she pulled back her muzzle, her eyes were shining with a fierce, deep love, love that Gray Wing felt in his own heart as he gazed at his beloved mate. He knew that Slate would be waiting for him when the Clans reached their journey's end, and that he would walk beside both her and Turtle Tail once again once all of StarClan was reunited, just as it had been for seasons beyond count. But for now, he allowed himself to share a moment with the she-cat who had shared this journey with him.
"The Clans are leaving." Shadowstar's voice broke Gray Wing out of his haze. He and Turtle Tail glanced at the black she-cat. She was standing a few paces away, her green gaze locked on their living kin. She was right; the Clan cats were slowly rising to their paws, Squirrelpaw and Talon coming to stand at the head of the group. "Come. We must accompany them to the Cave of Rushing Water."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd of spirits. As the Clans set off towards the Cave, their ancestors fell in beside them, brushing pelts with their living kin as they traveled. A low purr was kept up by the spirit as they walked, a sound of joy and triumph, and of relief. Gray Wing closed his eyes, feeling his own purr rumbling in his throat. He could feel the love of his former Tribemates all around him, giving strength to his weary limbs and filling his heart with warmth and joy. These cats had not always walked beside him in life, and there had been times when he'd faced against them in battle, torn from their sides by greed and by fear. But now, they all stood together as one Clan, united in their love for each other, and for the living kin they had left behind. And after everything that had happened, Gray Wing knew that the Clans were strong enough to survive what came for them, and that he and his Clanmates would watch over them for all of time to come. They would endure, as they always had.
A lone figure was waiting at the mouth of the cave when the Clans finally reached the Cave of Rushing Water. Gray Wing's heart seized with joy when he saw the white pelt and glowing green eyes. The she-cat waiting for them had walked with StarClan at the beginning of the Clans' history, but had left to rejoin the Tribe of Endless Hunting after the first generation of Clan cats had all died. It had been many moons since Gray Wing had laid eyes on the white she-cat. All of the spirits came to a halt, dipping their heads to the she-cat who had once been their leader. "Greetings, Stoneteller," Shadowstar murmured. Her remark was echoed by the rest of the spirits.
Half Moon's purr echoed with the strength and warmth of the stars. "Welcome back, my Tribemates," she mewed. As Gray Wing lifted his head, he saw Half Moon's warm gaze fixed on him. "I saw that you would come." In a lower voice, she mewed to Gray Wing, "You have done well. I always knew you would guide the paws of your family well."
Gray Wing couldn't fight back the purr that rose to his throat. As he watched, more cats began to appear beside Half Moon, rows upon rows of starry cats, watching the approach of their long-lost kin with warm purrs of welcome. Gray Wing could spot Dewy Leaf and her kits in the crowd, Snow Hare gossiping with Stone Song, the warm gaze of Hollow Tree. The cats who had followed the Sun Trail so many season ago had finally come home, and now they could meet all of the family that they hadn't gotten to watch grow up without them. Then, when their time in the mountains was done, they would follow the Clans to their new home, the place where the first seeds of the warrior code had been planted, long before Gray Wing had ever been born.
A feeling of contentment settled in Gray Wing's chest. He had finally reached the end of the Sun Trail, and he was nearly home. He had done enough.
Disclaimer: The dialogue between Squirrelpaw and Talon comes from Dawn, and belongs to Erin Hunter, as do all of the characters and events. The idea and the rest of the dialogue, however, are mine.
The Warriors Amino App is currently holding a writing contest. The theme of the contest is that positivity - the only requirement was that the piece must be positive. Well, I'm not usually good at positive, at least not positive without drama mixed in, or having been earned first (there's some fluffier chapters in EOTW, they just have to be earned through suffering first :P), but I figured I'd give it a shot because I thought entering another writing contest would be fun, it's been a while since I've done one. ^^ Though I've been in a few writing contests for BlogClan gatherings. So here's my entry for the Pawsitivity Writing Contest on the Warriors Amino. ^^
This is actually an idea I've had for a while, which I thought might make a good mini-comic or something, ignoring the fact that I'm far too impatient and bad at various expressions and poses and backgrounds to make a comic. :P Some time ago, I thought of the idea of Gray Wing walking beside the Clans as they took the Sun Trail in reverse to their new home, making the Sun Trail again and walking beside the Clans he had cared about so much in life. Along the way, I came to the idea of him being the one to lead Talon and the others to Squirrelpaw while she's hunting. I realized that might be a good idea for the positivity contest when I read about it.
Yeah, the whole thing isn't positive, a lot of it involves suffering and the spirits worrying about the survival of the Clans, but there's positive stuff in Gray Wing's thoughts, and the ending is very positive. I hope that counts. :P I'm not good at writing straight fluff. Gray Wing was always so caring to every cat, the five founders were the brains and leaders of the Clans, but Gray Wing was always the heart. He seemed like a good subject for a positive writing piece, and I liked the idea of him helping out the Clans one last time by helping Squirrelpaw, and the idea of him watching over all of them after death, even those born long after he died, and looking out for them like his own kits.
Anyway, I decided to make it the whole group that had followed the Sun Trail (sans Skystar and Quick Water), not just Gray Wing, since I liked the idea of all of them coming together to walk the Sun Trail (in reverse) one last time. I liked writing them interact, and getting to show all of the DOTC characters I liked so much again. ^^ I also always liked the headcanon that Cloudstar is descended from Skystar, and therefore so are all of his descendants in ThunderClan, so I threw that in there. ^^
Not sure what else to say about this. I'm pretty happy with how it came out. :D Also, unrelated, but I'm graduating college tomorrow! :D