A/N: After 4 years, I'm continuing it. I can't promise it will be very long (or very good), but I got reviews in 2014, so I thought, "Why Not?" Also I have no idea where in the timeline this falls so wahey~

"And just where have you been this whole time?"

Crowfeather had just bounded down the slope into the camp when he was met with the cold amber stare of Nightcloud. His whiskers twitched in annoyance as she placed a paw down heavily in front of him. He'd be lying if he said she never got on his nerves. At first, their relationship had been something he was just barely able to put up with. But, as the moons passed and her snarky nature and fiery attitude began weighing on him like a pile of rocks, he realized he would have rather chosen a kittypet as a mate.

A low growl snapped him back into the present, and he winced when he saw Nightcloud's piercing look bore into him, more intense than before.

"I was out hunting."

She scoffed, flicking the tip of her tail. "Of course you were out hunting. How could I forget, you go out nearly every morning! And, as usual, you come back with nothing."

"I caught a rabbit yesterday!" Crowfeather protested, fur bristling.

"Oh my, a single rabbit? That will certainly feed the entire clan when we're already on the brink of starvation."

Nightcloud's voice was naturally shrill, and a crowd of warriors was already gathering. Crowfeather kept his gaze on the ground, but he could feel their eyes stabbing straight through his pelt like the claws of a fox.

"I was out there, too," a voice shouted from behind him. Crowfeather glanced over his shoulder and watched a shadow-like figure streak down the slope. The cat skidded to a halt, and Crowfeather was joined by his and Nightcloud's son, Breezepelt. The lean tom puffed his chest out. "I was hunting as well, Mother. I couldn't catch anything. It may be too early for prey to be out. If Crowfeather didn't catch anything, there's no way I could have come up with even a vole."

Nightcloud narrowed her gaze, as if studying every whisker on Crowfeather's face. Finally, she huffed and turned, stalking away towards the warrior's den. The crowd murmured, some with amusement and some with disdain. Crowfeather shrunk when he realized that all of them were staring at him.

When the assembly finally broke apart, a gentle paw touched his shoulder. Breezepelt, with eyes the same dark amber as his mother's, had not left with the other WindClan cats.

"Dad… come with me."

Breezepelt led his father up the gentle hill and outside of the camp. The sun had risen over the distant hills, and the world was split into a half-green and half-blue box. The sky was completely clear, the first cloudless day since the beginning of leafbare. The grass was growing back despite the cold air that always lingered in the start of newleaf. Crowfeather felt like a giddy apprentice when he stared into the distant sloping lands, and if his son hadn't been with him, he was sure he'd have been sprinting across the moorland.

"Dad, what gives?" They'd stopped walking when they were a good distance away from the camp. Breezepelt had led them in the direction of the lake, which Crowfeather could just barely see, sparkling like a sapphire moon in the distance.

"You'll have to be more specific, Breezepelt."

"I wanted to go hunting this morning, too. The clan needs food, after all. Plus, I wanted to see why you always went out alone."

At this, Crowfeather's fur stood on end. If his son suspected him of something suspicious, half the clan could have suspected him of the same thing by now. Heat ran up to his ears when he imagined the rumors that must have been flying about him.

"I saw you catch that rabbit. I was pretty far away, out of earshot, but I could have sworn you were… talking to it. And then you let it go."

Crowfeather wished StarClan would have whisked him away right then and there. His own son had seen him conversing with a rabbit. And here he'd been hoping it had been nothing but a dream, his imagination running amok.

Breezepelt sighed. "Look, I don't know what's happening to you, but you need to get ahold of yourself. Cats in WindClan already think you're disloyal, you don't want them thinking you're crazy too."

As Breezepelt began to head back towards camp, Crowfeather was overcome with the urge to argue. "You don't know what it's like, Breezepelt. I can't walk from the den to the fresh-kill pile without hearing others whisper my name. Weasulfur told me to sit with my real clan at the last Gathering and motioned towards ThunderClan. Everyone in that camp treats me like foxdung. Don't you understand?"

Breezepelt's eyes locked with Crowfeather, burning coals compared to his mother's icy gaze. "I'm the son of a traitor. I think I have a pretty good understanding of what it's like."