"Home is where the heart, I've been told."

-Coming Home, A7x

Chapter 8:: Coming Back

The night of the Gathering-

Nigel spent a few hours pondering Dominique's situation. He was returning to the clans, but for what reason? It wasn't just to see his family, Nigel could say that much.

Was he in it for the power? To take over Thunderclan like he'd always wanted to, and force them to realize his newfound and dubious religion?

Nigel remembered the days when he was the leader of WindClan, and that power had felt so great. He'd tell a warrior to do something, and they'd just do it, for him, for their loyalty to him, and the clan that he represented. He liked that part of clan life. He'd left for other reasons.

The more he thought about it, the more he missed it, and the more he came to understand Dominique's motivation.

He jumped up from his contemplation.

His hollow between the boulders was big enough to be a camp for an entire clan. When he built it, he'd thought it would be a crime just to keep it for himself. As long as they brought in their fair share of fresh-kill, any of Nigel's friends were allowed to stay. Usually those cats only consisted of only Sergei, Jiriska, and Syphrone. Sometimes Saohei, too, more often then not lately.

Saohei wasn't here tonight, Nigel lamented. He was the only one besides Sergei who would still be awake this time of night.

"Hey! Sergei!" Nigel bounded over to the pale-eyed tom and dropped himself at his side.

Sergei looked at him from the corner of his eye and sighed. This wasn't the first time Nigel had come over to him and forced him to listen to one of his antic speeches.

"Sergei. I've had an idea."

Sergei nodded and closed his eyes.

"I'm going to take back my clan!"

Sergei looked at him to see if he was joking, and then almost laughed at the conviction in his eyes. Possibly the only thing that stopped him was that his voice hadn't been used in many many seasons, and it would take an absurd amount of effort to make any coherent sound.

Nigel noticed his smirk, however, and asked about it indignantly. Sergei shook his head.

"Come on, Sergei, you know that you and I, and..." He paused to think. "I don't know, someone else, we could do it. We aren't that old yet."

Sergei shrugged as Nigel continued.

"Like Syphrone, or maybe Soahei. I would bring Jiriska too, but I know she won't want to leave this place. Her reputation and all that."

Sergei nodded, pretending to give Nigel his full attention while all he wanted to do was fall asleep. This was probably a sudden notion that he won't remember, or care about, in the morning, like all his ideas.

Nigel sighed, suddenly wanting out of this tiny, claustrophobic forest filled with simple minds with no insight. He missed the open moors, where he could run. And he missed the insidious minds, with too much ambition and nowhere to put it. That special breed of sick, delusional, violent cats you can't find anywhere else. It was where he was born. He didn't know he was kidding, pretending he wasn't a clan cat anymore. He couldn't live anywhere else.

He looked over at Sergei, who was now very successfully feigning sleep, and over where he knew Syphrone slept every night, shaded under dried-out bracken, and then Jiriska.

Yes, he wanted out. But, he couldn't live without them. They're a part of his life, now.

He narrowed his eyes in thought. He wasn't going to go back to his old life, as Fallowstar, not necessarily. He wasn't even Fallowstar anymore. He had Fallowstar's fur but not his eyes. His mind but not his thoughts. He carried the same demons but not the same loves.

No, now, he was Nigel.

(POV: Silverfawn)

Silverfawn woke.

She woke very suddenly, as if startled by something. The suddenness of her movement jarred Beetle'eye out of sleep, and so he woke just as suddenly.

"Silverfawn?" He yawned, quietly.

"I'm okay, Beetle'eye," she said. "It was just a dream."

"Really? What about?"

Silverfawn took a moment to recall it and debate on whether or not to tell him. It had been about their mother. Her death, actually. Talking to Hawkstripe that evening had brought it all back to her. She was only Silverpaw, and Beetle'eye, Beetlepaw. They heard their mother's sweet voice, telling them everything would be fine. Beetle'eye saw her; apparently she was beautiful.

Silverfawn's first taste of battle was quite overwhelming. The second time was slightly less. She was always grateful for Beetle'eye, who fought by her side and never separated himself from her.

During her third battle, she heard the screech as well as Beetle'eye. Some convoluted version of her mother's soothing, non-patronizing voice. And then Beetle'eye was gone, crying "Mother!" Silverfawn was lost without him, with the sounds of battle pressing in on her.

She was attacked and fell to the ground. Here, her nightmare deviated from the real memories. In the dream, the attacker clawed her skin apart and bit into her bones as she cried for her mother, until she started awake, painfully silent.

In reality, the cat's attack hadn't been as vicious, skillfull, or successful. As well as training with Beetle'eye, she had also been forced to train by herself, in the event that they were separated. Though, she didn't need much training to use all her strength and throw the cat off her, and jump in the place she hoped he would have ended up. She was relieved when her claws dug into skin instead of dirt.

The cat struggled, and pushed her over, back onto the ground, hissing. Then his grip faltered.

"Wait-hang on." The voice was hoarse and sharp with youth and curiosity. An apprentice, like her. It was a very comforting voice, really, and Silverfawn had forgotten to keep fighting. "Holy shit, you're blind! Are you a medicine cat!" He exclaimed with no delicacy at all.

"No," Silverfawn had growled, and threw him off of her again. "I am a warrior apprentice, just like as you."

"ThunderClan!" Silverfawn perked up at Weststar's voice, no more than a shrill wail at this point. He wasn't even a deputy back then, he was a fresh warrior, and terrified. But still, he had led the patrol, much to the other, more experienced, warriors' annoyance. "ThunderClan, we surrender! The SunningRocks are yours, for now!"

The fighting stopped, not so abruptly as would have been preferred.

"Please," Weststar said, "just let us take our dead across the river in peace."

Dead? Silverfawn thought. Who?

"Mother...?" She whispered, almost inaudibly.

"What, is she your mother?" The attractively-voiced apprentice asked.

Silverfawn was startled by his voice and faltered.

"What's her name?" He pressed.

"R-Rowanfall."

"Silverpaw!" Blitzfall's voice. Back then, Blitzfall was a newer warrior than Weststar had been. Silverpaw used to sleep in the same den as her until a few nights before this.

"Silverpaw, here. Come with me." Blitzfall walked away with Silverfawn following, knowing better than to guide Silverfawn by touching her in any way. The apprentice was very adamant about that, that nobody touch her. Although, she probably wouldn't have noticed, at that moment.

She felt the ThunderClan apprentice's eyes on her as she followed Blitzfall, and, despite everything, she couldn't stop thinking about the sound of hs voice, or how he had turned from an enemy to somewhat of a friend in such short time.

Bringing her thoughts back to the present, Silverfawn faced her brother.

"I don't remember the dream," she told him.

Beetle'eye scoffed as if he didn't believe her, which she didn't expect him to, but let it be.

In truth, Silverfawn had wanted to talk about it with Beetle'eye, the ever-understanding brother. But he could never really understand. And besides, the only way she and Beetle'eye survived every day was by shoving those kinds of memories under the surface, trying their best to forget about them and move on. What kind of sister would she be, if she caused those memories to dash back into the open air?

So, she settled for saying a chaste goodnight to her brother, and curled up in her nest with her back to him.

(POV: ThunderClan)

Rockpaw didn't sleep the night of the Gathering. The whole of ThunderClan didn't sleep, frightened and adrenalized by the thought of war. When was the last time a clan went to war with another? Were they safe for the night, at least, while the full moon still showed?

Ciderstar had made a short speech, stating only the obvious, that they were at war with ShadowClan, and starting tomorrow, sentries will stand watch every night, changing halfway through the night. Apprentices can only go outside the camp with a warrior, and patrols to the ShadowClan border will have a least six cats, as little as two apprentices, if any. There would be two cats guarding Justess at all times, and don't worry, Jadeheart, we'll get your kit back. She made no comment on the father of Flamekit, but most of everyone else was.

"Hawkstripe, may I see you?" Ciderstar concluded the speech.

Hawkstripe nodded and went over to her. Rockpaw watched them exchange a few words, and Hawkstripe became tense. But he nodded again, and walked past Rockpaw without so much as a single word.

After her speech, Ciderstar went into her den, Whitepaw went into hers, Hawkstripe avoided the usual questions and curled up in his lonely nest in the far corner of the warriors' den, and Rockpaw prepared himself for the worst, as he was about to be the first to go into the apprentices' den after Willowpaw and Sagepaw, who didn't attend the Gathering.

He ducked into the den and was immediately engaged in pointless conversation.

"Rockpaw!" Willowpaw shouted.

"What?" He mumbled.

"So, how was you first Gathering?"

"Who'd you meet?" Sagepaw asked.

"Who was even there?"

"What exactly did Jaunestar say?"

"Did you meet Silverfawn?"

There was a pause in the questions which Rockpaw did not intend to fill, and so Willowpaw thought to expand on her last question.

"Y'know, Silverfawn? I would think that Hawkstripe would introduce you to the cat that he's in love with. I think the two of them are perfect for each other, don't you, Sagepaw?"

Sagepaw nodded.

Rockpaw shifted his paws. Where was this conversation going?

"Though, to be honest, from what I know of Silverfawn, she's a bit of a self-righteous bitch," Sagepaw said.

"Like I said, they're perfect for each other," Willowpaw replied, and giggled at her own joke.

Rockpaw sighed.

"Why don't you ask Lonepaw about the Gathering?" He suggested. "I'm getting tired."

He turned and carried himself painfully to his shadowy nest in the far corner of the den, only just becoming aware of how sore his muscles were. He laid down with his back to the other apprentices.

He curled further into himself as Lonepaw, Wasppaw, and Barkpaw came into the den, and the small space became filled with the incessant chatter of the ignorant asses that were Rockpaw's denmates.

Willowpaw, ever the impudent bitch, had taken over the conversation, and Sagepaw, forever her thoughtless lackey, filled whatever space was left with his voice. The others' inputs were quickly pushed to the outer edges of the conversation, basically nonexistent even though it was Lonepaw's experiences that were the focus.

Rockpaw found it alarming that cats such as Willowpaw and Sagepaw would someday be in places of significant authority in the clan. And if the state of mind of their kits, and their kits' kits kept deteriorating, then Rockpaw genuinely feared for the future.

Well, hopefully, they would mature with age.

And what did she mean about Hawkstripe? Sure, he could be a bastard, but his sarcasm was usually good-natured. He never aimed to hurt unless he was attacked first. Self-righteous was going a little far.

Rockpaw had seen him lash out before, verbally and physically. As many friends as he had, he had just as many enemies. Rockpaw recalled the incident with Beeclaw, who was fresh from the apprentices' den but thought he was the most important warrior in the world. He got on Hawkstripe's nerves a lot, with his arrogant nature and his constant bragging, although he had seen only three battles, and fought exactly one enemy per battle.

His fur was always neatly done, shiny and unmarked. His first scar was from Hawkstripe, a cut that stretched from below his eye to the tip of his nose. Cedarclaw had to break up the fight, lest Hawkstripe injure Beeclaw permanently. Hawkstripe was obviously the better warrior; he was better than most of the clan, for that matter.

"Hey, Rockpaw, what did you do?" Barkpaw's voice. Rockpaw was surprised that someone even bothered to ask him. Unless it was simply a joke of some sort.

He sighed, and turned around. "I... met Jaunestar," he said.

All the apprentices looked at him blankly.

Willowpaw scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"Me and Hawkstripe ran into him on his way to the GreatRock."

"Literally ran into him?"

"No, of course not." Rockpaw rolled his eyes. "If you're going to speak to me, please be intelligent about it."

Willowpaw gasped in surprise. Real or fake, Rockpaw couldn't tell. "What, you... you think I'm stupid, Rockpaw?"

Rockpaw narrowed his eyes. Now what was she doing?

"You think you're better than all of us? You and your lazy, sleazy, mentor?"

Rockpaw stood. "Lazy and sleazy?"

Willowpaw also stood. "Exactly. A lazy, sleazy, jealous asshole. I'll never understand how it was so hard for everyone to figure out who killed Leaftail. All the evidence was there."

"What are you saying?" Rockpaw's voice was a low growl. He knew exactly what she was suggesting, but he wanted to see if she would go as far as to say it outright. And if she did...

Willowpaw bared her teeth in some kind of sick smile. "I'm saying that your beloved mentor is the murderous bastard that killed your mother."

Rockpaw leapt onto her, and she yelped in surprise. The other apprentices quickly got out of the way as they rolled out of the den and into the open.

They broke apart, and circled each other, growling. There was blood dripping down Willowpaw's forehead, just above her eye. She shook her head in annoyance, then leapt for Rockpaw, but he dodged it. She landed hard just behind him, quickly recovering.

Rockpaw swiped at her, and she wasn't quick enough to dodge it completely. His claws nicked her shoulder. She then attacked, but Rockpaw was quick, and as he ducked, he lunged and caught her off guard. She yowled in pain as his claws dug into her skin and her blood splattered onto the ground, mixing with the light snow.

She growled and glared at Rockpaw with enough fire in her eyes that Rockpaw stopped short, and all of the sudden remembered how much further into apprenticeship she was than him.

He crouched low and hissed at her feebly, and she jumped on him. They tussled on the ground, clawing and biting, until they heard a shout.

"Stop! What the hell is going on here?"

Rockpaw broke away from Willowpaw instantly, and faced Cedarclaw with his head bowed. His ear twitched as dropets of blood trickled into it. Willowpaw only stood, staring straight at Cedarclaw defiantly.

"What are you doing?" Cedarclaw demanded.

Rockpaw's gaze flickered to the left, and saw where the ShadowClan warrior Justess was being held captive. Behind Russetnight and Littleash, who were keeping watch on her, he saw the green flash of her eyes.

"Well?" Cedarclaw waited impatiently, until it became clear that neither of the apprentices were going to give him an answer. He scoffed.

"Hawkstripe! Get out here!" He shouted. Hawkstripe wasn't part of the small crowd that had gathered to see what was going on.

After a moment filled with tense silence, Hawkstripe staggered out of the warriors' den, looking exhausted and ready to lash out at whichever cat was closest to them. Rockpaw shrank back and Willowpaw looked smug.

"Spidereye, come here." Cedarclaw also called to Willowpaw's mentor, and it was Rockpaw's turn to look smug as her eyes widened. But the satisfied smile fell off his face when he heard Hawkstripe's voice.

"We're at war, Cedarclaw. You should let your warriors sleep." Hawkstripe yawned.

"And I would, if your apprentice hadn't been fighting with his own clanmate."

"A fight?" Hawkstripe seemed amused.

"Yes. With Willowpaw."

"Oh, well, that explains it."

Cedarclaw was taken aback.

"Who attacked first?" Hawkstripe asked.

"Rockpaw did," Willowpaw was quick to answer.

"And did you have a good reason to attack Willowpaw, Rockpaw?"

Rockpaw nodded.

"Then that's settled. Rockpaw had a good reason and there's nothing more on the subject."

Cedarclaw looked at him, bewildered. "What was your reason, Rockpaw?"

Rockpaw looked up at him. "She said something about a good friend of mine."

"A bad thing?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes."

Cedarclaw's whiskers twitched. "That's hardly grounds to attack your own clanmate, especially at a time like this."

"If you were there, Cedarclaw, you'd have done the same thing."

Cedarclaw looked him in the eye. "Nothing would ever compell me to attack my own clanmate."

Willowpaw cut in. "Not even murder?"

Hawkstripe looked at her curiously. "Murder?"

Willowpaw smirked at him. Rockpaw looked at her in disgust.

"Willowpaw." Spidereye spoke. "Come walk with me." He headed for the tunnel and Willowpaw followed, blood and all.

Hawkstripe came over to Rockpaw and looked him over.

"You have less wounds than she does," he remarked. "Job well done."

Cedarclaw interceded. "Hawkstripe, I-"

"Cedarclaw, your input is hardly needed in this matter anymore." Hawkstripe looked back at him, and the deputy went silent. The civil relationship between he and Hawkstripe had always been ice thin, and more than once before it had threatened to break.

Cedarclaw scoffed and turned away.

"Go get yourself to Stonewhisker," Hawkstripe continued, "and we'll talk more tomorrow."

Rockpaw nodded and walked away. Hawkstripe yawned again and went back to the warriors' den to pretend to sleep, while he wept.

Rockpaw walked away, ignoring the stares of his denmates, thinking more on Willowpaw. She was different than him, yes, as so many others were. And sometimes the inferior need a lesson, to teach them who's really the best.

(POV: Trickpaw)

Trickpaw flinched every time the kit yowled to be taken back to its mother. It never slept.

Jaunestar had appointed Trickpaw as the nursery's guard for the night, and they only thing keeping him awake was the kit's shrill wailing. He'd decided not to become too attatched to the kit. At the moment, he couldn't do more than say the kit's name was either Firekit, Flamekit, or Emberkit; somewhere in that category. He definitely didn't know whether it was male or female. It was hard to discern, with kits and with ThunderClan cats in general.

Trickpaw thought that stealing a kit was possibly the ugliest thing that could ever be done. And now he's heard word that Jaunestar was planning to go to RiverClan next. And he couldn't use the same excuse as he did for Flamekit for the other kit.

As for ShadowClan's other ThunderClan prisoner, he still hadn't woken yet. He was still inside the medicine den, being cared for tediously by Cedarweb.

Jaunestar had always been a bit off-the-rails, since he was an apprentice, so Trickpaw had heard. Especially after Trickpaw's mother had died. But now, Trickpaw could see that his father was really going crazy. Doing evil shit just for the sake of doing evil shit.

He sighed and looked at the moon, which was just beginning to set. There were still several hours before his watch ended. Why does he have to do this again? What exactly does his father expect him to do if someone should attack? Him, of all cats, what is he to do?

He stood and paced the entrance to the nursery feverishly. The boredom was making his head hurt, and his muscles stiff.

Why does his father expect so much of him? He's only an apprentice. Still a kit in many cats' eyes, believed to have been pampered by his father as so many leaders' kits are. But why is it him that they think that of? Stingpaw of RiverClan is the son of Weststar, and he is treated like everyone else, mostly. Most of WindClan hates him for what his father did to Fallowstar.

Oh, there it is again. A kit being judged on the actions of its father.

Trickpaw sighed and sat down again. He was just a failure. That night in ThunderClan, when he wasn't even an apprentice yet, he tried his best to be the best, and he failed. He lost the Shadows to some whore in another clan. He could see it in her as she sat upon the GreatRock, could hear it in her voice when she spoke. It controlled her, mostly.

Trickpaw looked to the sky, at the stars. There was something interesting about that ThunderClan cat, Rockpaw. Trickpaw looked forward to seeing him again, because he could have sworn he saw a little bit of Darkness in his eyes.

(POV: Digger)

Sorrelspot slept very gracefully, like he did everything else. Digger saw the way all the she-cats' eyes lingered on him, and he never seemed to notice. Either he didn't notice, or he didn't care, but Digger found it amusing.

He curled up with his tail under his nose, and slept without a sound or a movement, so that Digger wondered if he was even sleeping at all.

Digger had been told repeatedly that he snores, not by Sorrelspot but by the cats in his kithood home. Though he never knew what he was supposed to do about it. It wasn't like he was gonna stop breathing.

He sprawled out in his nest and whispered a prayer to StarClan, quiet enough that Sorrelspot couldn't hear if he was indeed awake, and he was asleep instantly, opening his eyes to find himself in the lush woodlands that were familiar to him, and had been familiar since his birth.

He took a moment to figure out where he was, and then he began travelling west, to the hollow where Trix spends his days.

It wasn't long before he reached the loose dirt where Trix plants his herbs and jumped deftly over it. He stopped walking when he reached the entrance to Trix's den.

"Trix?" He called.

There was only silence for a moment, and then a voice answered him.

"You must be Digger."

Digger turned quickly at the unfamiliar voice. He saw nothing at first, then spotted cat coming from behind a tree. Its fur was dark red and well-groomed, and black circles outlined luminous green eyes.

"Who are you?" Digger demanded.

"I am Red Ash," the cat said with a small bow. "I believe you've been asking questions about me."

Digger nodded.

"Well," the cat walked to him, "here I am. What are you trying to find out?"

Digger hesitated, and then answered. "Who you are, mostly. And what you have to do with Trickpaw."

"Oh." Red Ash smiled. "Is Trickpaw a friend of yours?"

Digger shook his head. "Quite the opposite, really."

"Then why are you asking about him?"

Digger began to answer but Red Ash cut him off.

"And how do you know about this?"

Digger faltered. "Hm?"

Red Ash leaned closer and said slower, "Who the hell told you about me?"

"Nobody did."

"Really?" he asked disbelievingly.

"I overheard a conversation is all."

The red tom took a moment to look in Digger's eyes, determine if he was lying or not.

"Whose conversation?"

Digger shrugged. "Two she-cats I've never met before. Um, Sky and Giri?"

Red Ash seemed to relax fractionally, before regaining his composure. "And now you're asking questions you shouldn't be."

"I'm just trying to understand what's going on," Digger defended himself.

"No, I think it's better if you don't understand," Red Ash said.

The sound of a twig breaking alerted them both, looking with ears perked and eyes vigilant. Digger turned back in the direction of Red Ash, but he was gone. He looked back at where the noise was coming from.

A black-and-grey cat with yellow eyes stepped into view.

"Digger," the cat said, "how are you?"

Digger looked back at where Red Ash had been standing. What did he mean when he said that it would be better if Digger didn't understand?

"Digger, are you okay?"

Digger looked up and smiled. "Oh, I'm fine, Trix. How are you?"

(POV: Dominique)

Dominique stood on the edge of the WindClan border, with Waleri, Salerino, and Reid. The sun was beginning to rise in the east, the stars disappearing into the pink light.

Dominique took a breath, and wondered what carnage the clans had gotten themselves into while he was gone. How were Spiderstar and Weststar? Was Spiderstar even still leader? He was young, as this entire generation of leaders were, but far too reckless. Dominique considered the odds that he was dead, and, if so, if ThunderClan had let Cidersmoke ascend to leader. If that had happened, what kind of hell was he going to return to?

Jaunestar was the only leader he knew for sure would still be alive and the same. Psychotic as hell, and more obsessed with vengeance than Dominique was.

Well, there was really no use wondering, was there?

He took another breath, and then stepped over the border, into a whole other, bloodier, world.