That moment when you realize you haven't updated in so long that the entire site has changed its format...

Gosh, sorry, everybody. I've been reaaaally busy with school and other writing things that this stuff has fallen to the back-burner. I've been trying to job-hunt, which is difficult and kind of depressing. I wish that I could just win the lotto and not have to deal with this whole work-for-a-living thing. Blurrrr.

But seriously, it took me like ten minutes to figure out how to upload a chapter. It's really quite tragic.

SO MANY REVIEWS. Okay, let's start from the beginning. XD

monkeyCsaw - Aaw, I missed you too! I really do miss the loveliness of writing and getting feedback. It's much easier to tell when I start sucking. XD

Twistedstep - Waaah, hi, new reviewer! -waves- I really like your penname! Man, I guess I worried everybody, huh? Don't worry; if I ever decide to not update anymore, I'll put an AN or something. Or pass this fic off to another writer to finish. I wonder if anybody would even want it, lololol.

Silvertail of shoreclan - Haha, sabbatical is a very good way to put it! XD But yes, I have returned! Ooh, you're right, there wasn't a lot of Declan in that last chapter. But don't worry, 'cause this is a Declan POV chapter! XD

viper332 - Don't worry, I put in a dash of romance in this chapter, just for you! XD

reenakitty - I'm working around a bit of newish plot, but it definitely involves Beloved Vegetable Child. I really do like him, and I wanna flesh him out more so he's just not the bishounen love interest that fades away in the background. XD Waah! I made a mistake?! Now you're going to think I'm, like, a human! I mean - of course I'm a human. Pssh, wh-why would you think otherwise? -hides machinery back inside chest- Ooh, I shall go change your name tout de suite.

justsmile77 - Dude, no problem, because I adore writing Lightfoot, almost more than I love writing Declan. I think, in order, my faves go: Twist, Lightfoot, Declan, Hazel. Only until the little peabrain gets a little bit more mature, of course. XD

Blazingnight - I know, right? I've gotten like three of those so-called warnings. But whatevs, you know, 'cause they just add to my review count. XD

Sinora Saphire - Haha, I'm glad you feel ALL the feels! Maybe you'll feel even more in this one. XD

Guest - Yup, I was doing that then. I finished and had a little break and now I'm back for hopefully more regular updates. XD

SnakeLover01 - Oh hiiiiiii, new reviewer! You mean like is that chapter the end of my Twist stories? Nope. Float the end of my Twist stories? Yes. There won't be anymore fics from me after this one is done.

Icejjj - Oh, wow, a French reviewer! Bonjour! Merci beaucoup pour lisé mon histoire! (I don't know how to say fanfiction in French so it was either histoire or livre, and livre seems kind of pretentious. XD) My French is appallingly bad but hopefully will be better by the end of this year! XD

alicia88 - Wow, thanks! -flattered- I really do love writing long things. Shorter stories don't do it for me. XD

Cinderstar377 - Sorry it took so long but here's a nice long update! :D

lemonsmakemylemonade - Yeah, I think she's the one who got me. They report me all the time on their little forum thing, I've been told. I mean, whatever, I'm not gonna make it a big deal, you know? It's best to just ignore them. They're a fad anyway. X3 I really like song number three on your list. SO CATCHY.

Lilyfire - Thanks! Great penname! :D

Leafwing-Jayfeather Lover - AAH! WE ARE SHOUTING! XD And okay, here's an update for ya! :D

Alrighty. Whew. That took awhile. Thanks for reviewing, everybody~! Looks like I got a ton of new reviewers. I always seem to get those in spurts. Did someone recommend me or something, or is it just one of those things? XD

Enough blather!

Onto the story~

Declan opened his eyes.

He was out in the forest, the fog encroaching over his body. He felt it sink against his pelt, a silent whisper of cold and of damp. It lay across his fur like a skin, curling the tips of the hairs with beads of moisture.

He breathed out, once, sharply.

In the woods, he thought. He whipped around, staring behind him. It was a new moon, which offered no light to see by. The path was curling with mist; it rose in smoke-like wisps, each breath of cold wind making patterns dance in the white-gray fog.

Declan shivered as an icy bite of wind sank into his skin.

How am I here? Oh, stars, have I dreamed this again?

It had been moon cycles since he'd woken up out in the forest, alone and frightened. At least this time his dream hadn't been a nightmare that had sent him screaming in his mind, his paws bloodied against the near-frozen ground. No, this time it had been almost worse.

Homecoming. But not to the Warren.

Declan groaned, digging his forehead into his paws. It felt like if he pushed hard enough, he could get those images, those emotions, out of his head.

He had definitely not been frightened this time. He'd been happy.

Please, please let me be mistaken. Let this be a horrible dream. Just let me wake up in my den with Twist at my side and let everything be okay.

But it wasn't. This was real: the frost on the trees was real, the wind swishing through his fur was real. Even the soft night sounds—the owls calling softly, their voices like wind from the mountains, and the dark creaking of shifting trees—cemented him in this moment, this truth.

And he hated every second of its traitorous reality.

Getting to his paws after a quick inspection of his pelt—scratches and scrapes and bruised paw pads—he began to run. His lungs protested at it. I must have run this whole way, he thought, panting as he strained. What was I running for?

It hadn't even been the Claws this time. He was in the wrong territory for that.

So what was it?

Declan ignored everything around him as he ran. With every step, fear encroached more deeply into his heart, worming its way into every nerve in his body.

Shadows panted down his neck. Whispering voices curled deeply into the fur of his ears, drowning out the helpful sounds. He was utterly helpless.

He ran faster, his breathing sharp and shallow, each cold inhale a shard of ice in his lungs. Twist, he thought, imagining her. She would be warm and safe, surrounded by cats who loved her. She was fine. He could breathe safely about that.

Hazel. She was something else entirely. Wilting like a dry flower with no sun. Every day that passed, she was fading. Declan's heart ached to look at her, let alone be near her. But he did. He loved her, truly and dearly. She would always be a little sweet kit to him: friendly to everybody, talkative to no end, filled with a bright, vivacious spark for life.

Now she was nothing but a shade of whom she was. Heartbroken and dull-eyed, she just lay around in her new den all day long, guarded by Adder and Whisper and Violet, ignoring everybody who tried to talk to her. She was just blank.

Declan's heart ached for her. If I could, I would let you leave this place, he thought as he came upon the Warren, gasping and breathless from his run. He passed by the watch-guard Iggy, the old scraggly tom, and entered the only home he'd ever loved. The metal and box-nest tangle looked suddenly austere in the half-light from the non-existent moon. I would let you go where your heart led you. Like my heart led me.

But that wasn't possible. Not in this era of hatred, not in this life full of danger. Hazel's eyes set her apart, they always had. In any other life, she would be admired for them. In this one, they condemned her to a bloody and violent death at the paws of Blackjack and his followers, those Watchers who claimed they were helping the world by ridding them of marked cats.

He made a snap-decision and turned from the normal path, the one that would lead him back to Twist. Ducking beneath the edge of the main metal pipe, he curved downwards, towards the lower tiers of nests where the younger cats lived.

Younger cats and prisoners, he amended.

Hazel's nest was guarded as usual. Today it was Max and Marco, each looking stronger with every passing moon cycle. Marco had always been powerful; Declan still remembered him as the young black-and-white tom dying to prove himself. Max had only improved from the night he'd nearly been killed by the Claws, outgrowing his disabilities until he was one of the sharpest-eared cats in the entire Sliders.

He was the one who noticed Declan first, his head turning quickly to the side, eyes widening as he spotted Declan. "Oh," he said, his voice light despite his growing age. "You're up late tonight."

Declan nodded, looking away uneasily. "Bad dreams," he said shortly. "I had to walk it off."

Max's eyes glimmered with sympathy. "I understand. The battle still gets to me too. I see all those faces every night…" He trailed off and shuddered, his eyes falling shut.

"Why are you here?" Marco spoke up, his voice low with suspicion.

But before Declan could say anything, Max spoke up again. "Step away, Marco. This isn't your business." Without waiting for his friend to reply, Max pushed Marco to the side. He nodded to Declan. "We'll go for a walk for a bit, if you want privacy. I know she's missed you, even if she doesn't say it."

Declan felt a little bubble of relief. Though he wouldn't say anything to Hazel that could cause trouble if repeated, it was nice to know the simple luxury of a private conversation still existed, even with everything else changing. He bumped foreheads with Max, who purred and led Marco away. Marco glowered warily at Declan over his friend's shoulder but allowed it.

He went inside the den, his eyes adjusting to the darkness very quickly.

Hazel was awake, lying on her side at the back of the den, facing away from him. Her shoulders were slumped forward, her cheek resting on the ground, her moon-silvered whiskers drooped. Not even the tip of her tail twitched as he approached her, even though she absolutely recognized the sound of his steps. They'd been in her memory since before she could see.

Declan lay down next to her, folding his paws beneath his chest, and said nothing. Hazel didn't say anything either; they sat in profound silence. The night wind gusted in, bringing the smell of frost to Declan's nose. He lifted his muzzle to enjoy it. The hot-season was fine but he thrived on the snow. It would soothe his nightmares, maybe even obliterate them.

The quiet lasted for a long time. Declan, still plummeting from his waking nightmare, had no inclination to sleep. Hazel appeared to be beyond sleep, in some sort of half-trance stage where she lay completely still, her breathing slow and deep and even. Declan could hear the soft beats of her heart better than his own.

Finally: "I guess you're here to lecture me." Hazel didn't move even as she spoke but he could see the silver of her whiskers gleam in the dusty yellowish light from the housefolk lamps far in the distance.

Declan let out a soft humming sound in the back of his throat. "You'd be wrong."

"Then why are you here?" she challenged. No heat came into her voice but something did: something weak and stilted and broken, like splintered glass. "Isn't this how it was always going to end up? Me, alone and angry, pushed into a box at the bottom of the Warren and praying that everyone would forget me? Am I supposed to end up like that cat who tried to kill Sorrow? Forced below ground and kept without food or sunlight for the rest of my life?"

"Hardly," Declan said softly.

She was right, about that tom. He'd been here for so long and he'd never spoke again, just as he promised. He received a piece of prey everyday but that was it. No walks out in the forest. No laying in the sunlight. He was wilting like a flower, emaciated with long claws and lank fur. He wouldn't last much longer. Neither would Hazel. Like vines with no light.

He looked away, shaking those thoughts from his head. Hazel wasn't a traitor, not like that cat. "That was never the plan."

"Then what was?" She rolled to face him, her expression beyond furious. Her eyes were flat and hard as glass, the colors still beautiful even in her listless anger. The yellow burned like the sun, the blue like a vengeful sky. "Tell me! You owe me that much, don't you? After all you've done to me? What you've all done to me. Lying and betraying me with every step, with every question I've ever asked. All I've ever gotten out of you were lies—"

"What have we ever done but try to keep you safe, Hazel?" Declan's throat was tight and dry. An achy sorrow echoed through him, rattling along in his chest and vaulting off his bones. "We did what we did because we love you."

"You should have told me," she said, her words hissing out from between her teeth. "You should have told me from the start, not led me on to believe that I would be allowed to be normal. I've lived my life waiting to become a Slider and now I can't. Don't you get it? I don't have anything. Not pride or friends or parents or…or love—"

"What else could we have done?" Declan asked sadly. Hazel was watching him with such strong dislike that he felt his heart ache with it. This wasn't what I wanted either, he thought. I never wanted you to hate me for trying to protect you. "It was a choice between two evils. We could have told you from the beginning that you couldn't leave here and had you be depressed for your whole life, or—"

"Or wait until I had already known life before you crushed it," Hazel finished viciously. She pushed herself to her paws, sitting with her bristling tail behind her, her ears erect, her fur on end. She was rage incarnate, a sweeping wildfire. Fury danced in her beautiful eyes. She hissed, "Don't you have any idea what you've done to me? Do you know how I have to live the rest of my life, never being free? You can go outside whenever you want, hunt for the Sliders, for Twist. I don't get that luxury. I don't get to be free. I'm a trapped bird. And I'll be here until I die."

Declan dipped his head, his eyes stinging as if from smoke. Bitterly, he whispered, "I think about that every day, every second. I live with that every day."

"No you don't. I live with that. And now I'll live with it for the rest of my life, knowing that if my eyes were the same color, I could be out in the forest, running and hunting and actually living. I'll be a prisoner for the rest of my life." She swung out a forepaw and raked her claws through her bedding, letting out a stifled screech. "It's maddening, is what it is. I'm going crazy just staying in here, wasting away to nothing! There's nothing in this life for me if I have to stay here all the time. I'd rather be dead."

Declan's breath was sharp as pine needles in his chest. "Don't you dare say that, Hazel. Don't you dare. That is not an option in this case."

"And why not?" She turned to face him, shoulders hunched, eyes wild. "Why not? Just kill me and get it over with. My life's done anyway, isn't it? What's left for me but to stay in the Warren for the rest of my life? Tell me!"

Declan gritted his teeth. Helpless and trying not to show it, he said, "I…I'm not going to talk to you when you're behaving this way."

Her eyes widened, like she couldn't believe he'd just said that. He couldn't believe it himself, regretting the words almost immediately. "Behaving this way? What way would that be, Declan? The way where I'm a prisoner? Or the way where I stay in the Warren and rot like carrion?"

"You're just…" But he didn't have any more words. This was Twist's territory, not his. He only knew the side of Hazel that was lonely or sad or loving, not this vicious Hazel, suffocating within this space. His instincts were screaming at him to comfort her, not scold her. To go to her side and draw her close and whisper that everything would be alright, that he would fix it, whatever was wrong he would make it better. That was his job. He wasn't the scolder, the teacher. He was there for her, unconditionally, but now he wasn't. He was all the father she had. Whatever she'd done wrong—and she had done wrong in this situation, as had he—he couldn't bear to punish her any further.

So instead, he sighed, completely and utterly defeated.

And Hazel knew she had him.

She took that as weakness. He saw it snap into place in her eyes, like a falling rock lodging in the exact perfect nook. Dislike. Horror. Disbelief. "So you have nothing to say, is that it?"

Declan had a thousand things to say but none of them would do anything, would mean anything, especially not to Hazel in her current condition. I love you. Just know that I love you. I never meant to do this to you. If I could, I would take your place. Stars, I would do it in a heartbeat. Don't hate me for this, Hazel. Please, my daughter, my darling. I love you so much that I'm breaking.

He bowed his head.

Hazel scoffed, the sound horrible and bitter and exactly like Twist. Exactly. "Then just leave me alone."

Please let me stay here. But he knew better than to ask her that. She'd already turned her shoulder to him again, once more coldly ignoring him. With a heavy pit in his stomach, weighing him down like a stone, Declan turned and walked out of the den, letting Hazel's small form be swallowed up by the shadows.

Outside, Max and Marco took several quick steps backwards as Declan exited, trying and failing to look innocent.

"Eavesdroppers," Declan said, without even the energy to be upset about it. He felt completely drained, like there was no more blood left in his body. It took effort to even think of how to speak, let alone to work up a gentle scolding.

Max, to his credit, looked guilty but Marco didn't. "We'll have to tell Lucky about this."

Something panged deep in Declan's chest, like a burr caught in his pelt. Sharp and painful. "Of course," he said. "Go right ahead. I understand."

Max took a dainty step forward, what was left of his ears at a sympathetic slant. "Declan…"

Declan shook his head. "Go back to work, you two. Thanks for letting me speak to her."

He knew they were probably exchanging a loaded glance behind him but he didn't care. All he wanted right now was to see Twist. He had to. The desire burned in his blood like fire, tangling up his thoughts. She was the only balm to his feverish brain.

The winding path below his feet was a tangle of gray shadows but he knew it by heart and was not afraid of falling.

XXXXXXXX

Twist awoke him early the next morning with a gentle nudge. "Declan," she said. "I have to tell you something."

He lifted his head, his mind still fuzzy from sleep. It had been thick and heavy, soaking into every inch of him like warm water. Finally, he thought. A good night of sleep. Of course it had to come after another walking nightmare.

Twist's expression was blank, which was his first warning that something was wrong. The other was the presence of Streak behind her, who looked transparently anxious, his eyes wide and his pelt spiked.

Declan jerked to his paws, standing with difficulty. "What's happened?"

Twist shared an uneasy look with Streak then began to speak in a rapid voice. Declan, still half-asleep, leaned forward, shaking his head to make sure the words sank in properly.

She explained that she'd spoken with Lucky the previous evening after an outing with Lightfoot, which was alarming in and of itself. Together, they had gone to see Spirit, and Lightfoot had laid out a plan for Hazel's future.

"Wait," he said, blinking rapidly. "You mean we're moving? To where?"

"That's the problem." Twist put her mouth to the side, her tail curling into a loop behind her. "We don't know. Lucky said he believes it's a good idea, but…"

Declan leaned forward. "But?"

Streak spoke now. "But it's dangerous. Living outside these walls… Well, that's something that no one's done before. We only have three generations here—four at best—but still…it's a daunting thought."

"That's not true. What about all the other cats who joined up with the Sliders? Kite and Flint and Max. Even Lucky and Wisp. They all lived outside the Warren."

Streak looked unhappy. "It's just…dangerous. I was born here. This is my home, but—" He stopped very suddenly. Then something clicked in his eyes and he looked up, the yellow of his irises seeming brighter than usual, and harder, like glass. "But if Hazel is going somewhere, I am, too."

Twist made a soft sound. "Streak, you've done your duty. This is—"

"This has nothing to do with my duty." His voice flat, dry. He had none of his usual indirectness. Every word was straight to the point. "You can try to stop me but I'll find a way to come, too. Hazel's not going anywhere where I can't follow. I'm sorry."

"You don't sound very sorry." Declan, despite his shock at Twist's new plan, felt a curl of something very new in his stomach, something hot and protective. Streak had laid his words out like a slab of stone: unyielding and strong. Declan had never seen this side of the young tom before and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Twist clearly thought similarly, because she said rather gruffly, "There's no need for such dramatics, Streak. No one's going anywhere yet. These are just…preliminary plans. Strategies."

Streak suddenly seemed to realize what he'd said. Tucking his tail down low and swishing it, his eyes on the floor, he just nodded. "I wanted to make sure that—" He stopped again, his eyes tightening, but he didn't say anything else.

Twist narrowed her own eyes shrewdly, and Declan could see the thoughts working in her mind like tumbling stones in the brook. "Anyway," she said, turning back to Declan. "Lucky wants to go scout out some territory himself, far away from the Watchers' territory and their hunting grounds." Her voice made the final two words into a curse, spitting them out like poison. "We'd need somewhere far away to keep them at bay. We could send a force of Sliders there to make sure the marked cats are safe and—"

"All of them? Not just Hazel?"

Twist nodded. "We have a fair amount of them, considering the Claws released all our members who were…repossessed." She wrinkled her nose at that. "Hazel is obviously my main concern but if we want this to work, we need Lucky's approval. Breaking away from the group would be a poor choice considering our options. It would leave us vulnerable, and the Sliders, too. Not to mention the fact that we have so many enemies now. The Claws and Sorrow and the Watchers. Not to mention the usual ones: foxes and badgers and dogs and no-pelts. If we leave, it'll be dangerous, but I think it'll be worth it."

Declan felt a kick of shock. "Is that what you were thinking of doing?"

She made a slight face. Turning to Streak, she said, "You can go back to work now. You're done here."

He frowned. "If you're talking about Hazel, I should be here."

Flatly, Twist said, "No you shouldn't. Your loyalty lies to the Sliders, remember? And I believe you're needed on a hunting patrol. Viktor told me not to let you moon around Hazel's den all day like you've been doing. It's not right and it's not healthy."

Streak looked furious. "But—"

"Enough, Streak. I get that you're upset about this—you're her friend, after all…"

"Best friend," he corrected her. "I'm her best friend."

Twist's eyes slanted. "Yes," she said slowly. "But that's enough for now. Let this drop." Then, in her most velvet voice, the one Declan heard only rarely, she said gently, "Go get your mind off of everything, okay? I'm worried about you, too, you know. You don't have to suffer like this. Now go find Viktor." She pressed her cheek to his, a brief show of affection.

Streak stood resilient for a moment longer, his shoulders hunched. Then he licked his lips. "If…if anything changes…"

"Then you'll be the first to know." Twist gave him a firm stare and he seemed to get the idea. As he scurried away, Twist let out a long, heavy sigh. "I swear," she said, turning back to Declan, that distance completely gone from her expression. "That tom will never outgrow being a kit."

"Some of them never do. I think it's working for him, though, don't you think?"

Twist let out a musing sound, half-hum and half-growl. "He's a bonehead."

Declan laughed weakly. Everything about him felt weak today. Hazel's angry face burned behind his closed eyelids like a firebrand. It ached to even think of her.

"Twist," he said slowly.

She turned to him, her yellow eyes liquid. "I know," she said softly.

Declan dropped his gaze to the ground. "Are you…are you sure this is right? We promised our lives to the Sliders. To protecting them. And now just leaving them feels…"

Twist's nose touched his cheek gently, surprising him. A purr rose up through her body, vibrating in Declan's bones.

"I know," she said again, but this time it was a whisper. She leaned into him, her face against his red shoulder. "But this is a way we can help them. We'll go with the marked cats. We'll protect them. It'll be just like this, I promise."

"But Hazel," he said, his voice cracking.

"She'll come with us. She'll be safe. Even if I have to sacrifice my own life, my happiness, anything, I'll do it. For her. I love her enough to make that sacrifice." There was a slow beat of silence, soft as a heartbeat. "But I won't sacrifice yours. You don't have to come."

Declan said at once, "You're crazy if you think I'd stay away. If you're going, I'm going. I'm nothing without you, Twist. You should know that by now."

Twist breathed out, a warm spot on Declan's shoulder. It was as comforting as her scent, which was wreathing around him. "I just wanted to make sure we were still in tune."

His heart swelling, Declan reached down to press his nose to the top of her head, licking her ears gently. "We are always in tune."

And for a moment, it was just warm silence. Twist leaned her head against his shoulder. Declan thought back to the wildness of their younger days, back when he saw her for the first time. She'd been a firebrand herself, a spark in the middle of a dry land, just waiting for the right time to raze the forest. Now she'd calmed down, settled a bit, but she'd never lost that spark, that fire, that had made Declan fall in love with her, all those moon cycles ago.

Then Declan had to break it. "But where will we go?" he asked her, looking down at the sun-gilded shape of her black ears and her narrow head. She is so beautiful. "Where can we go that's not Claw territory or Watchers'?"

"I've already thought about that, too." Twist drew back away from him. "Lightfoot wants her to move to my mother's village. It's safe there; Hazel could become a housepet. Obviously I would go with her—and you." She shook her head. "But that's not what I want for her. Hazel has wild blood in her. She wouldn't be happy as a pet. She would be just as miserable there, maybe even more, because she would never go outside."

"Then what's the solution?" Declan's imagination winged out but he couldn't come up with any ideas. "There's nothing to be done. It's either this or that. It's prison either way."

"No," Twist said. "It's not."

Declan looked at her curiously. "If not there, then where?"

Meeting his eyes evenly, she said, "Do you remember what I said earlier? That I would sacrifice my own happiness to give Hazel hers?" She took in a deep breath, her eyes closing to slits, then said, "I know the perfect place to go. No one would ever follow us, and no one would ever find us. The Claws, the Watchers, nobody."

With a peculiar churn of dread in his stomach, Declan asked, "Where?"

And Twist said, "To the mountains."

Da daaaaa!

I've been waiting for this chapter. FINALLY. SCENERY CHANGE. I get so tired of writing the Warren. It's all so...blah. I mean, I have a really good picture of it in my head or whatever, but I don't particularly want to write it a lot.

And now I'll probably do some split-screen writing: some in the mountains and some in the Warren.

Ooh, we can have a vote. Out of the cats in the Warren currently, who do you want to see the POV of?

Also, what should I put for the picture for Float, now that we can apparently do that? Anyone wanna make a poster for it? I'll pay you in a Warriors oneshot of your choice, after I finish writing Tufted's, which is happening currently, as I just got my computer back from being repaired FINALLY. XD

I feel very refreshed writing this. Maybe I'll go write another chapter or something. Mmm~

Fanfiction is very recharging. XD

Anyway.

R&R~

Shadow