Eveningstar drew herself into an aching stretch, nearly touching the ends of her shelter. The dirt on the floor of the hole was damp, and clung to her side on which she had lain. Shaking herself, she began the process of ridding this nuisance from her fur, waiting for her head to clear.

"Eveningstar?" an inquiry came from the entrance. She recognized the voice as Redwing, her recent deputy. "Eveningstar? Are you awake?"

"Yes, Redwing?" she mewed up from her cleaning. Redwing's ruddy head appeared as he practically slid down the smooth slope that led into the shadows.

The Deputy was a large, lithe cat, with impressive, pointed ears and bright green eyes. His mother was Bluepatch, a healthy young warrior, and the daughter of Eveningstar's sister, while his father remained unknown, as was sometimes the choice that she-cats made. Rumor had it that it was a rogue from beyond the forest, but, even so, Redwing's characteristic and physical qualities made him an excellent deputy, if a bit inexperienced.

"Cloudburst wants to see you," he said quietly. "He says it's urgent."

"Thank you, Redwing. I'll be right up," she responded, dismissing him. He nodded, turning and crawling back up into the dismal light which glowed from above.

Eveningstar sighed, shaking herself once again. It was promising to be a tiresome day, if her medicine cat wanted to see her this early in the morning. Cloudburst was laid back to an almost dangerous point, though he remained dedicated and abnormally direct. If he said it was urgent, then it was urgent.

Dragging herself through the tunnel-like entrance, Eveningstar blinked against the gray daylight. Around the camp were signs of waking life, as cats stirred out of their dreams and into reality.

Sunclan. Eveningstar sighed in fatigued pride.

In this half of the forest, the conifers had no crown. Broadleaved trees ruled, soft and welcoming, allowing the sun down through their cheery faces. Usually.

Cloudburst dwelled in a little glade branching of from the main clearing. He generally slept under the stars or in the trees, unless it rained or snowed particularly hard, and then he took the customary spot beneath the rosebush with his herbs. Eveningstar searched the area for his gray and white pelt.

"Eveningstar," Cloudburst said from beside her, startling her into a crouch.

"Cloudburst," she breathed, taking her previous position with a lick of her chest. The medicine cat merely looked amused. "How are you?"

"Depressed," he said flatly in his husky voice, and then stood, padding quietly through the ferns and towards his rosebush. Eveningstar followed.

The sky boiled with tension.

Around them, the forest was silent and foreboding, the shadows in its depths enhanced by the poor light. In the early hours of the morning, a chorus of songbirds usually filled the air, coaxing the trees from their slumber.

"Do you feel it?" he asked, stopping suddenly in the middle of the clearing.

"What?" She looked around suspiciously.

"Something…" he murmured, his head cocked towards the clouds. "Something is stirring."

"Something?"

He turned his great, lustrous eyes on her. "Something evil." He faced the sky again. "Something is stirring." Eveningstar shivered, feeling the prophetic quality of his words dig into her bones with chilling intensity.

"What should I do?"

Cloudburst was silent for a disturbing length of time.

"I don't know," he finally mewed, blinking and looking to the ground. "I'd like to meet with Fadinglight, if that's all right with you?"

"Of course." She nodded. "Whatever you need; you don't need to ask me."

Cloudburst heaved a sigh, and then smiled ruefully at Eveningstar.

"Thank you, Eveningstar," he said, as if she had actually done anything for him. "I'll be leaving immediately."

"You don't want to wait for the night?"

"I don't…" he paused thoughtfully. "I don't think we have time for that."

She stared at him, her eyes glittering uncertainly.

Cloudburst bobbed his head awkwardly once more, and stood. "Thank you again."

"Good luck, Cloudburst." She licked his forehead before he had a chance to leave, and then padded away herself. If what the medicine cat had felt was genuine, then some of the clan cats were likely to be disturbed on this suffocating morning.


The hidden sun had risen to a reasonable height on the horizon. Gladegrass sat in the center of the Duskclan camp, her nose raised to the sky. The clouds continued to broil overhead, miles away from the Earth. The she-cat stared, muzzle twitching feverishly. Oakclaw sat beside her in a companionable silence. Gladegrass might has well have been made of rock.

"Good morning son," she said suddenly, startling him. He blinked upwards.

"Quite the bad choice of words."

"It won't rain yet."

"Is that what you were doing?"

She stirred, working her way into a luxurious stretch. "Yes." Oakclaw watched her fondly. The aging cat was one of the few mothers who stayed close to her previous kits. And she had had many kits in her time. "Where do you think Fadinglight is?"

"What do you mean?" The deputy's eyes automatically traveled to the fallen sycamore which was most obvious in the pile of trees. Gladegrass joined him in observation.

"I mean, that he left this morning, like a pack of dogs was after him."

From the medicine cats' den came a ferocious yowl, interrupting his response. Oakclaw and Gladegrass turned to look as Lilypaw came rushing out from under the trees with her fur on end. Claws extended, eyes flashing, teeth bared, she appeared as if an entire army was attacking from the depths of the planet. The little white apprentice of Fadinglight was earnest enough in her fierceness that she had Oakclaw glancing around for enemies.

Lilypaw froze halfway into the glade, her gaze traveling about her in confusion. The camp watched her with amused interest.

"Lilypaw?" Gladegrass asked soothingly.

The she-cat hightailed back to her den, her embarrassment obvious in the jerkiness of her movements. Oakclaw's whiskers twitched as she disappeared under the logs of her den.

"What do you suppose that's about?"

"She is a medicine cat, and a good one at that. Perhaps it's an omen," Gladegrass meowed darkly, fluffing her fur. "Or maybe the weather is just getting to her."

"I think the weather's getting to all of us," Oakclaw mewed quietly, looking to the sky once again. "It's been like this for days now."

"Don't worry, deputy," Gladegrass mewed in proud acknowledgment. "It'll clear up by evening; just wait." Oakclaw purred briefly as she left, watching as the proud clan cat trotted towards the camp entrance.

Gladegrass somehow maintained a dignified posture and attitude even as she aged. It would be a sad day when she joined the elders in their mossy shelter. Oakclaw sighed, forcing himself to his paws. A sad day, indeed.


Nightclan continued to remain politely in their territory, though they made it obvious that they expected Duskclan to do so as well through their often-renewed border.

Lightfeather sniffed at it distastefully, sneezing in pronouncement of her disapproval. Sunrise agreed with a low, throaty grumble. Smokepaw examined the scent curiously. Raveneye watched.

"They really are laying it down," the apprentice said. His mentor nodded distantly.

"Every tree," he murmured.

"Do you think something spooked them?" Lightfeather asked, backing away from the scent.

"Maybe," mewed Sunrise. "The medicine cats sure have been acting weird lately."

"You saw Fadinglight leave this morning?" Raveneye wondered, taken by surprise.

"No? He left?"

"Yes. I thought he might have had a bad dream or something, but the way he rushed out of camp was sort of…" he shrugged, "unsettling."

Lightfeather looked up at the sky.

"A dream? You think he left to talk to Starclan?"

"May-"

"I don't think it's wise to speak of these things so close to the border," Sunrise advised suddenly. A wave of Nightclan scent hit Raveneye just as the voice came from Nightclan territory.

"You're absolutely right."

Sunrise hissed, jumping to her feet in synchronization with the other Duskclan cats. They stared in uncertainty at the feline who sat not half a dozen tail lengths from them.

Awkward silences can be incredibly hilarious, depending on the circumstances, or just flat out embarrassing. On the other hand, there are those rare times when the air practically crackles with tension, and a prolonged stillness feels as inevitable as day turning to night.

"Your medicine cats are coming down with the qualms?" the tom asked hesitantly, eagerly, deciding after a reasonable amount of time that his immobile companions were going to remain mute. Sunrise opened her jaw to say something, but was halted by a withering glare from her littermate.

"That's not Nightclan business," Lightfeather hissed warningly, peering back at the burly looking tom. "Why should you care?" Raveneye cast a mutely approving glance her way.

"Why shouldn't I care?" He straightened his shoulders defiantly. "We might be able to help each other." Sunrise gave a mutually astonished look to her friends. Who was this strange cat? She took a light sniff. He certainly smelled like Nightclan.

"How?" Raveneye inquired lightly, but the lower reaches of his voice were taut with suspicion and doubt. Starclan curse the morning patrol!

"I don't know," he drawled, but then his attention was inexplicably drawn behind him.

"Thistlethorn!" a high voice demanded. "Thistlethooorn?!" From the bush exploded a young, black and gray tabby cat. Probably an apprentice, Sunrise judged by his size and manner. He froze a few paces away from the assumed mentor and stared at the Duskclan cats.

Smokepaw's tail had gradually grown to an astounding size. Thistlethorn watched him with an amused expression.

"Fangpaw," he said in way of acknowledgement.

"Who… Wh-who are they?" the apprentice stuttered.

"Them? Duskclan. Some of it," he said obviously. His great brown head turned back to look at the diminutive cat. "They don't bite, at least not on this side of the border."

Fangpaw stared dubiously at his mentor for a few moments, before inching forward to sit beside him. He watched the others in an uncertain way, his expression flickering unsteadily between curiosity and hostility.

"We should leave before he gets his whole clan to sit there and stare at us," Lightfeather murmured to the patrol. Raveneye nodded.

"Thistlethorn? That is your name?"

"Yes."

"What exactly do you want?" Mentor studied mentor.

"News of the medicine cats, of course," was his slow-to-come answer. "I don't know when Graypaw stopped talking to me, but the silence has become... unsettling, especially with this strange weather plaguing us." Most of their heads turned for a brief look at the sky. "Have yours been acting more… urgent, lately?" he pressed again, unrelenting on the subject.

"Scared witless," Sunrise blurted before she could curb her tongue. Lightfeather hissed and Raveneye glared in his disturbing way. Thistlethorn merely nodded thoughtfully.

"I really hope it's only the coming storm." Subdued, Sunrise said nothing, but waited for her fellow clanmates to act.

"Well, then, Thistlethorn, I'm glad we could help," Raveneye took the initiative. "But we really should be going now."

"By all means." He turned abruptly away, Fangpaw only a second's hesitation behind. "Now, Fangpaw," he could be heard saying as they meandered away. "That was not in any way appropriate to do regularly, unless it's necessary for the continued health of your clan. Naturally, one would consult his own clanmates beforehand, which I've already attempted. Attempted and failed, that is…" he faded into the distance. Lightfeather choked, hissing in her mirth.

"You think he's mad or misguided?"

"Earnest," Raveneye mused, his tail folded neatly across his paws. "And possibly a bit unduly motivated."

Smokepaw stared at him. "What?"

Raveneye looked down at his apprentice, his eye glinting happily in the brightening light. "Just misguided, Smokepaw. And maybe alarmed. Things have been a bit… unusual lately." He glanced around for agreement. Lightfeather muttered something and Sunrise sighed.

"Poor Lilypaw has her hands full with Fadinglight these days."

"Is he all right?" Lightfeather was alarmed.

"Health-wise, if that's what you mean. But," she exhaled slowly, "rumors have been spreading."

"About what?"

Raveneye's worried look for him was not missed by Smokepaw.

"This and that, as always. But he is aging, like we all do."

Lightfeather nodded understandingly. "Darkstar doesn't think less of him, does he?"

Raveneye's once concerned expression was now a bit pained at their bluntness.

"Of course not. Age is only a visible sign of wisdom, you know?"

"And who threw you that fresh kill?" was her snide remark.

Sunrise snorted. "I make my own proverbs, thank you."

"Tell that to the elders and they'll skin you."

Raveneye coughed. "We'll just be making our way to the foxden now, all right?"

Sunrise nodded dismissively to them. "Be careful."

"So I don't suppose the warrior code would be considered a proverb, then?" Lightfeather demanded immediately.

"I don't specifically recall writing the code. And besides, it's not exactly a proverb anyways."

"Oh, really…?"

"Yeah. It's more of a… lifestyle than a little piece of guidance."

"Go on."

Raveneye, eager to leave them alone in their quarrels, urged Smokepaw by giving him a rough thrust in the rear end, propelling him away from the sisters.


Sunrise and Lightfeather, still engaged in their chatter, were busily cutting across the territory towards the Dawnclan border.

"And how would you know what a proverb is?" Lightfeather prodded testily.

"I was speaking to Fadi-" She froze in mid-step.

"What?" Lightfeather looked about spasmodically, immediately alert. "What is it?"

"Don't you…" her nose quivered, "don't you smell that?"

"Smell what?"

"Something…" she searched for the appropriate word, "putrid."

"Putrid?" she mewed, her voice dripping with scorn. "What in high heavens is that supposed to mean?"

Sunrise's eyes were crinkled in disgust. "Rotting? Dead? Crowfood?" she offered snippily.

"Sunrise," Lightfeather breathed, looking around again. "I don't smell anything but you."

But Sunrise remained silent, glancing this way and that about her. She took a deep breath, paused, and then said hesitantly,

"It's…" Sunrise stopped, looking up at the sky, which was mostly concealed with the evergreen canopy.

That she-cat bolted without warning, disappearing through a screen of brush, which rattled dramatically with her passage. Lightfeather stared in disbelief, too stunned to move for a significant amount of time.

"Sunrise!" she called after her. Lightfeather gave a worried huff then trotted after her sister through the hole she had left in the bush. Beyond its cover, the forest was dark, and shadowed… and empty. "Sunrise?!" she yowled again.

There was no response.

What is it with cats these days? Lightfeather wondered, sniffing the ground lightly for her littermate's scent. Catching it, she trailed it along the ground and through the enormous trees.

The trail led deeper into Duskclan territory, where the pines clumped tightly together and no undergrowth grew beneath their mighty branches. The sensitive skin between Lightfeather's paw pads was irritated by the carpet of needles as they pricked insistently.

Sunrise had veered wildly among the conifers, dashing between their trunks as if attempting to shake a pursuer. Lightfeather glanced over her shoulder as a shiver ran up her spine. She broke into a run after the trail.

Her sister had halted so abruptly behind a layer of undergrowth that Lightfeather nearly bowled into her. The calico cat stared straight up into the sky, her bright, green eyes glinting with the force of the gray light above.

"Sunrise," Lightfeather breathed heavily, gasping for air. "Are you okay?"

She was mute, the tip of her tail twitching nervously as she scanned the splotch of sky.

"Sunrise?" Lightfeather reached out a white paw and prodded her sister in the side. "Hey!" Sunrise turned to face her. "What is it?"

The little warrior shook herself, giving her chest a few rough licks. The fur along her back was spiked warily, and her tail was fluffed where it lay around her paws.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yes."

Lightfeather snorted. "Sure." Sunrise glared at her.

"Just let it go." She stood, forcing the fur on her spine to lay flat. "It was nothing," she repeated. Sunrise padded away towards the camp, leaving Lightfeather to stare after her incredulously.