A/N: Post-The Last Hope oneshot. Just what I needed to get closure on the series. Featuring two of my favoritte cats, long-time friends, Sandstorm and Dustpelt and their memories.

Words: 1154
Characters: Sandstorm, Dustpelt, Squirrelflight, Spiderleg
Time: Post-Omen of the Stars series
Genre: Friendship

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to the Erin Hunters. Not me.

"Sandstorm? Can I ask you to lead a hunting patrol?"

It was Squirrelflight, peering into the warriors' den. The ginger she-cat looked slightly awkward to be issuing orders to her mother, but she stood confidently, her fur smooth and her head held high.

Sandstorm dipped her head politely. "Of course."

"I almost turned to Firestar's den to look for you," Squirrelflight murmured. She traced a paw absently through the dirt, not meeting her mother's eyes. "But it's not Firestar's anymore, I guess."

"You'll spend nights there now, with Bramblestar." Sandstorm heaved herself to her paws, taking note of the creak of her joints, the stiffness of her muscles. "Like I used to with Firestar."

As she passed her daughter, Sandstorm brushed her tail against the new deputy's flank. "I'm proud of you, Squirrelflight. Which cats should I take with me?"

"Um - whichever cats you like?" Squirrelflight was still getting the hang of a deputy's duties, it seemed. Sandstorm licked her ear.

"I'll take… Dustpelt and Spiderleg." Both toms were sitting in the clearing, grooming themselves, but slowly, as if their minds were elsewhere. "They could do with a run through the forest. So could I."

Squirrelflight nodded to her as Sandstorm padded over to her old friend and his oldest son. "I'm leading a hunting patrol. Would the two of you like to come?"

Dustpelt glanced up at her. In his eyes, Sandstorm could see the same cloud of grief she felt settling inside her heart, pervasive and cold. But then he blinked and looked away. "Sure, Sandstorm. Let's go."

It was the first time she had left camp since Firestar died. With Dustpelt and Spiderleg half a pawstep behind her, she dashed through the undergrowth, letting the wind ripple through her fur and drive away the soreness from battle wounds and age. Before long, Spiderleg peeled off to follow a whiff of mouse, and Sandstorm and Dustpelt slowed down.

They passed the place where the last battle had been fought. Sandstorm's paws seemed to come to a halt of their own accord, staring at the scuffed ground where she had struggled underneath a Dark Forest warrior. Spottedleaf had sacrificed her life – again - to save a Clanmate. To save her.

What did I do to deserve to be standing here, when you are gone? You loved him as much as I did.

"Sandstorm?"

Dustpelt's mew brought her back to her senses. His tailtip on her shoulder was uncharacteristically gentle, but Sandstorm was grateful.

"Look at us," she whispered sadly, meeting his tired eyes. "We're the oldest cats in the Clan now, apart from Purdy."

He flicked her nose with his tail. "You've got grey hairs. You think your light pelt hides them, but I've known you since we were kits. I can see them."

"You have more!" Sandstorm teased. For the first time since the battle, a purr rumbled in her throat, and Dustpelt's too. The feeling didn't last, though. She could tell that Dustpelt was losing himself in memories, too. It was almost as if she could see the shadow of Ferncloud, pretty and pale, behind his eyes.

"Strange, isn't it," he murmured. "We were apprentices together. Warriors together. Soon we'll be elders together. But we're both alone."

Sandstorm thought of Firestar. Of long nights curled by his side, warmed by the beat of his heart and the strength of his passion for life, for ThunderClan, for her. Of sore paws and shaking legs, only to feel his pelt brushing beside her, supporting her. Of breathless races through the starlight forest ending in a tangle of tails and paws. Of the warm milky scents of their two beautiful kits, helpless and innocent, burrowed against her belly as Firestar licked her ears to soothe her. Of a starry spirit touching his nose to hers in a final farewell.

Blinking away the past, Sandstorm noticed that Dustpelt was trembling slightly, and she wondered what moments he was reliving with Ferncloud. He had loved her since she was an apprentice, took care of her always, adored her and all their kits more than life itself. It was Ferncloud who brought out the gentle side of Dustpelt for all the Clan to see, which, before then, perhaps only Sandstorm even knew he had.

"Sometimes I wish I had died in the battle, too." His mew was so quiet that she almost couldn't hear it at all. "So I could be with her, always."

"I…" Sandstorm trailed off. She had thought the same, briefly, in moments when the grief threatened to overwhelm her. "You know that's not what Ferncloud would want. We still have many moons ahead of us. Wisdom we can share with our Clanmates. Our kits. You've still got Spiderleg, right? And Birchfall, Icecloud, Foxleap."

Dustpelt stilled, the warmth flooding back into his gaze as he thought of his kits. "You know me too well, too. And Sandstorm… when the time comes, let's move into the elders' den together."

"I wouldn't want it any other way. It might… it might be soon, for me. I just… I still love the wind in my fur, the scents of the forest. But I don't think it will be the same. Fighting and hunting without him by my side. And I'm tired." She stretched, her hindquarters rising, her forepaws extended in front of her. "I want to sleep, and run with Firestar in my dreams."

A breeze ruffled through both of their pelts. It carried with it a pair of scents, a brush of warm fur. As Dustpelt looked around in awe, Sandstorm saw a slender gray shape in the wind, heard a whisper of soft words. Then the sun flashed in the corner of her eye, as bright as fire, and a heady warmth surrounded her completely. She couldn't breathe anything but him, feel anything but his fur against hers, hear anything but his whisper in her ears.

"Firestar?"

You are my light, my life, my love. I will wait for you in StarClan, Sandstorm.

The sun faded from her eyes, leaving spots of gold in her vision for a few moments. Dustpelt, too, was gazing into the distance, murmuring his mate's name. And then, they looked at each other, the air still and quiet once more.

"We went on our first hunt together." Sandstorm touched her graying muzzle to his. "Let's go on our last together, too."

Her old friend perked up his ears, and swished his tail. "Bet I'll catch more prey than you."

Sandstorm was about to come up with a smart retort, but he was already moving, darting through the trees. As she chased after him, the bright sunrise of hope drove away the clouds in her heart. You might have to wait for me a few moons, Firestar. But I will be happy. I will be with my friends, my kits, and all my Clanmates, and I will dream of you.