"I'll take over, Whiteclaw. You need to sleep."
"Feh." The dark tabby shrugged, not moving from his post. "I'm still awake. And you need sleep just as much as I do, Leopardfur."
She bumped his shoulder teasingly. "Ah, but someday I will have nine lives in which to sleep, and you will ever only have but the one."
"I've got more moons in me yet. You should go back inside. I'm sure Crookedstar needs you to be around."
"Mmm." Leopardfur gazed out across the landscape. The sky was paling in readiness for dawn, and the stars were slipping back out of sight, as if retiring for sleep themselves. It had been a long night. Sighing, the golden she-cat lowered herself to her haunches and then to the ground, letting her head rest on her front paws. "I'd rather not go in just yet. We can keep each other awake out here for a while."
Whiteclaw hesitated a moment before laying down next to her, keeping his head up. "How many were wounded?" he asked after another pause.
She gave a soft snort. "Aside from Heavystep's paw that he twisted when he tripped over his own tail? No one's hurt except for Shadepelt. She got her ear clipped by the Twoleg...thing."
"Is Brackenstream alright?"
Leopardfur's claws were out before she realized that, of course, Whiteclaw's patrol had been sent out immediately after the attack, to check for more Twolegs. And Whiteclaw had been put on sentry duty as soon as he returned, before he even set foot in the camp. He would only have seen Brackenrain get hit and fall and later be dragged into the medicine den; he couldn't have known how quickly . . .
"No." Leopardfur's voice rasped in her throat, and she closed her eyes, digging her claws into the dirt. "She's...she's dead."
She felt, rather than saw, Whiteclaw deflate. "Oh," he said. And then, "I'm sorry, Leopardfur."
"My sister is with StarClan now," Leopardfur said, but her voice was flat and held little joy at the idea. My sister is lost to me, she said, inside herself.
Whiteclaw knew her thoughts. He nudged her side. "Surely you don't doubt– "
"No, I don't doubt. It's just..."
She curled herself tighter, fighting the urge to lash out at the world. "It's not fair, Whiteclaw."
"Hmm?"
"I want her back. I want her back. She wasn't theirs to take. She was so young— she was– "
Leopardfur's breath was coming fast, and she shook her head, trying, trying, trying...
"Leopardfur."
He brushed his muzzle against hers, and she could hardly stand how much she was feeling, the agony of knowing that she'd lost her only kin, sparkling, giggling, mischievous Brackenstream, coupled with the sudden pounding in her ears as her heart sped up, as she breathed in Whiteclaw's scent and felt his nose pressing into her cheek.
"She's safe, there," he told her. "There're no Twolegs, no badgers, no foxes, and even if she falls out of the highest tree in StarClan's forest, she won't get hurt."
Leopardfur laughed, a dry, ragged laugh as she thought of Brackenstream. Of course she would try for the highest tree first— she always, always, wanted to do big things right away. Always, always...no matter the risk, no matter the danger, no matter if it's a giant, two-legged creature with some crazy stick that shoots out fire to rip through a cat's pelt...
"She was trying to keep it away from the nursery," Leopardfur said out loud, almost absent-mindedly. Her tail slithered back and forth in the dust, only moving slightly. "She saw it turn and start poking around at the nursery entrance. She was hiding in the elders' den with a couple other warriors and Crookedstar— she didn't wait for him to tell her to go. She just jumped out and tried to claw its legs, and Crookedstar decided to signal the rest of us to attack, too, but of course by then she was already bleeding on the ground..."
"I was with her, Leopardfur." He hesitantly licked her cheek. "I saw her go. She was the bravest of all of us."
"The stupidest," choked out Leopardfur, half-laughing.
"The bravest. She made her choice— she wanted to protect Berrypelt and the kits— and she will be honored in StarClan for what she did. I know your father is proud of her. And I think we're all proud of her, here in RiverClan."
"Mmm." Leopardfur closed her eyes. "I'm proud of you, Brackenstream," she said softly, and she was sure that her sister could hear her. "Have fun. Wait for me before you start your next adventure. I want to be there." She let out a breath, leaning her head sideways against Whiteclaw's flank.
Whiteclaw sighed, too, and turned to rest his chin between her ears. "We shouldn't be here like this," he told her quietly, amusement rising in his voice as he added, "The elders will start gossiping."
"Let them gossip." She didn't care, right now. Her world had gone gray, as bleak and gray as the predawn sky. She welcomed Whiteclaw's touch, his presence— he was keeping her awake, alive, keeping her head above the water. "Let them all say I've gone soft and crazy and emotional. I can prove them wrong, later." For now, though . . .
He moved to stand, but she put up her paw to stop him.
"Stay, Whiteclaw, stay, please." Her voice cracked. She knew she was giving away much more than she should have let herself give away, that she was feeling much more than she should have let herself feel, that she might one day regret having let herself get so close to another cat, to a tom. "I need you now."
"Alright."
She felt him settle against her once again, felt him rasp his tongue over her ear. From his tone, she knew that he realized fully the brevity of whatever they had here. He knew her well, knew that she wanted the leadership more than she would ever want a relationship with anyone. But he seemed ready to be here for her anyway.
"Thank you," she whispered, taking a deep breath, letting the smell of him fill her head and her heart. "Thank you."