Flaming Dawn's group was fine, but Ivy would be lying if she said she wasn't a little scared of them. One of the queens- Tumbling Beams, she figured- was ginormous. Silver Night, her son, who was very outspoken about Tumbling Beams being his mother, wasn't nearly as large; but there was still something a bit scary about seeing a silver triangular shape and two ocean-blue orbs staring straight through you at moonhigh.

The second biggest cat in the group was Clover Fur, who Ivy would again call absolutely huge- even moreso than Tumbling Beams because of just how clear her muscles were. Clover Fur was short-furred, while Silver Night and Tumbling Beams were long-furred. The rest of them were rather average-sized cats, though still taller than Ivy. One cat wasn't much larger than Ivy, however. Leaping Snow had her eyes only half a paw above Ivy's.

Leaping Snow did not care much for Ivy. But Ivy, from her makeshift nest right beside the tail-and-a-half entrance, liked to take a hair out of Silver Night's fur from time to time and just stare at her.

Silver Night and Ivy were not friends, not really, Flaming Dawn was her singular caretaker. Well, sometimes Sandy Shore, the second cat who saved her from the hawk, brought her a bit of half-eaten prey and stared at her from around the corner under the outcrop in the main section of the cave. But that wasn't friendship, that was weird. At least Ivy and Silver Night were watching the whole of the group.

Well. The Glare of Flying Colors, Ivy supposed.

Ivy spent several days with the Glare, up against that wall. The leader, moonkeeper as he was called, Frosty Night, had forbade her from going outside of the cave. Or looking around the cave. So, yes, she sat underneath that wall all day and night, the light from the small entrance hole hardly touching her direction. The wall was right behind the waterfall that thundered outside, though it was quieter than Ivy would've thought. The most infuriating thing was eating, however.

The fresh-kill pile was two tail-lengths away from were Ivy sat. Ivy could not move. Her legs weren't long enough- it was called a tail-length for a reason, after all. Usually Flaming Dawn would sit down beside Ivy and they'd share a piece of prey at sunhigh, though sometimes Flaming Dawn would share with his mother and little brother in the nursery. Sometimes Silver Night would share but he, too, had a mother and sibling in the nursery.

Ivy didn't trust when Sandy Shore brought her prey. She did eat what he brought, though. If he'd poisoned it, she'd much rather take the blow than some other Glare-cat. She did feel a bit sick most mornings, though she wasn't quite sure if that was something in the Glare-cat's saliva or her being unused to eating solid food every day.

"We won't have very much constant food for long," Flaming Dawn informed that noon, "You joined us on the last moon in the Time of Short Sunsets. The Time of Dark Days will start any day now."

These Glare-cats and their strange vocabularies, Ivy thought, but she nodded along as Flaming Dawn dragged a pathetic poorwill nearer to them.

"What are you doing?" came a rough and scratchy voice.

Ivy looked up from the bird's feathers. Flaming Dawn jumped and turned around. Frosty Night stood behind them, scowling. He reached out an unsheathed paw and quickly pulled the bird away.

"Why don't you make uses of yourselves and catch some prey, hm?" Frosty Night scowled, picking up the poorwill in his jaws and padding away before Flaming Dawn could reason with him. The tom blinked and loosened his shoulders as the moonkeeper ducked into the second hole on the wall- certainly not the one where the queens slept.

Flaming Dawn sighed and stood, turning back to Ivy. "I suppose we must feed the queens, then."

Ivy looked back at the fresh-kill pile. Sure, there wasn't much, but there were two kestrels and a bat.

"Can't the queens eat a kestrel?" Ivy asked, "Those are big enough, aren't they? And isn't Crimson Night still on milk?"

"He's being weaned," Flaming Dawn informed, "Those will… probably go to the warriors. Come on."

Ivy stood and didn't object to coming along. She followed Flaming Dawn up and down the steps of the Glare's cave and into the bright outside.

"The warriors?" Ivy repeated, "Surely the queens need it more. Without them, you won't have any more cats."

"True," was all Flaming Dawn responded with. Ivy opened her mouth to say something else, then closed it and stayed silent instead. The waterfall thundered and foamed behind them, dampening the sides of the walls of the stone behind and above it.

Flaming Dawn didn't lead Ivy over the stoney bridge, however, instead he led her along the outside cave wall. Shade from an outcrop above covered both of them and the slope of the path fell away, further and further down. It wasn't a fall big enough to kill, but a cat could get harmed, and Ivy's shoulders ached enough. She pressed closer to the wall though couldn't tear her eyes from the drop.

Finally, Flaming Dawn paused and hopped up atop a large, pointed ledge. Ivy slowly followed, her paws heavy and shaking as the ground got further away. Flaming Dawn sat down and smiled.

"Scared of heights?"

Ivy gulped dryly, gaze still staring down. The ground seemed to be five eagle-wings down, but, to any tiny cat, it was a huge fall regardless. It was a huge fall to a normal-sized cat, and yet Flaming Dawn wasn't scared in the slightest. The tom took a deep breath as an ocean breeze ruffled the two cat's fur. It sent a chill down Ivy's spine. Yes, the cold season was about to come.

Ivy eventually sighed and sat beside Flaming Dawn, though still didn't take her gaze from the ground. The tom sighed as she settled.

"Stars," he whispered, "I do hope Frosty Night gave that bird to Gnarled Bark or Flowing River and not Bright Fern."

"Why?" Ivy asked, managing to rip her eyes from the stone and into Flaming Dawn's face. The tom didn't look at her, however, his gaze was focused on the horizon. "What's wrong with Bright Fern?"

"Well…" Flaming Dawn sighed, "Frosty Night… he… erm. Fancies Bright Fern, I suppose you could say."

Every one of Ivy's hairs rose before she could stop them. Her shoulders didn't burn with their rising, which was a good sign, unlike Frosty Night's choice of temptress. She forced her fur to lie flat and cleared her throat, awkwardly turning her eyes toward the ocean.

"Well, uh," she started, "We… can't control who a cat loves."

Flaming Dawn continued, voice rather calm. "Yes. But, it's a bit of… an unspoken law, of ours. See… every Time of Dark Days, some of our mollies will leave the Glare, get a mate, and come back in the Time of Budding Leaves and have their kits."

Ivy blinked. What a stupid, bad ideology! "So, what, toms can't have kits?"

"Sure they can," Flaming Dawn mewed, "But the mollies are the ones who carry the kits, so it's easier to bring them back. A tom, you'd have to steal your kittens… or bring your mate. Like, Gnarled Bark is Sandy Shore and Dust Storm's father. His mate came into our territory to give birth, but died doing it. Most mollies don't die giving birth with kits for their fathers to take."

"Why not just mate with eachother?" Ivy asked, unable to keep a bit of a raspy growl from her voice.

"The Glare isn't very big, Ivy," Flaming Dawn said, defeatedly. "And most of us have siblings. It's too easy to mate into the family that someone in your's has already mated into. If there's enough of that, kits will just die after they're born. Or they'll get something that'll kill them soon enough."

That was certainly an explanation, Ivy conceded. "Why not have both then, hm? Some cats can mate with other Glare-cats, some go out."

"It used to be like that, yes…" Flaming Dawn admitted.

"Why'd you change it then?"

"You'd have to ask Frosty Night that," Flaming Dawn said with a shrug. "Frosty Night is an excellent hunter. But he is a coward and he is a featherbrain."

Ivy smiled and pricked her ears. She lightly nudged Flaming Dawn with her shoulder. "You could say Frosty Night has a poorwill?"

Flaming Dawn let out a breath of laughter. "Yes. You could say that."

With that, Ivy carefully and slowly turned around and started making her way back to the wall. "Well. You can't argue with your leader, can you?"

"He already took one Glare mate," Flaming Dawn suddenly informed.

Ivy froze in her tracks and turned to look back at the tom. "Huh?"

"He didn't help raise them. Or name them. Or help birth them. One of his kits died, and the other resents him."

Ivy blinked and flattened her ears, her eyes frantically scanning the surface of the ledge they still stood on. Maybe their law had more sense than Ivy first thought, her father wasn't around either. Eventually, she managed to look back up at the tom.

"Silver Night?" she whispered, "He was Frosty Night's kit, wasn't he?"

Flaming Dawn glanced over his shoulder. "Yes."

"And…" Ivy gulped, "And his sibling's name?"

"Didn't have one," Flaming Dawn mewed softly, as if that was no big deal, "We call the afterlife the Glare of Flying Colors. But cats who never became warriors don't go there, much less cats who never breathed a breath."

Ivy felt a fury rise inside her at how any cat could be so cruel to not name their children, even dead ones, but kept her mouth shut. Above them an eagle cried, but there were no pieces of to-be fresh-kill in that part of the mountain. Flaming Dawn hummed and stepped backward.

"We've wasted enough time. Come on."