Heyo! Sorry this took so long. I tend to forget about it when life gets busy. I got a nice kick in the butt to get going again by a friendly PM, so here it is! Chapter 36!

Thanks for reading! Enjoy~

Twist didn't like the closed-in cave Flare picked as her meetings' den. In fact, she hated it. There was no sky here, no passage to the outside. The stone bent down like a broken back, trapping her here. Wind did not stir the dust that collected in the corners. It was warm but the air was stiff, like being underground.

We basically are. Flare's hideout was beneath the mountain, tucked into a cleft of rock that ran like a vein into the cliff. It was shielded from the storm's teeth but its howls seeped into all the nicks and cracks in the mountainside, filling her dreams with screams and shrieks.

They were seated in a circle, the so-called "leaders" of this new pack. Flare with her lieutenant, a black-and-white she-cat named Blue-Eyed Jack, sat so close they touched, with Audrey taking Flare's left paw. Whirlaway, the scout and general of Flare's cats, sat stiffly next to the healer Bran. On the Sliders' side, Declan took the forefront, with Twist and Lightfoot filling out the circle. Twist had asked Streak to join. He was the closest cat they had to a healer, and even if he couldn't match Bran's wisdom, he could supply another, younger point of view. Finally, laying down more than anything else, Stripes completed the loop.

Twist did not seat herself at Declan's side. She was between Lightfoot and Streak, leaning into the comforting warmth of the young tom's shoulder. He wasn't the same as Declan—he was smaller, sparer, his fur lacking the luxurious thickness she loved—but he was familiar as the pattern of her own fur.

She couldn't even look at Declan. A sour taste filled her mouth whenever she even glanced at him.

Flare set her bright eyes on Declan. "Now that your she-cat has returned to you, we have plans to set in motion."

"We do," Declan agreed. "The Watchers will find this place eventually. A quarter moon of silence doesn't mean they've given up. It means they've intensified their search."

"You know how these cats act?" Blue-Eyed Jack had a raspy voice for a she-cat. Like her name suggested, both of her eyes were a radiant, startling blue, deep as lake water. They contrasted sharply with her white face.

"Without mercy. They've cut down our numbers to half in the amount of time it took to climb the mountain."

"Which is?"

Reflexively, Declan and Twist met eyes. Twist dropped hers first, feeling her stomach tighten.

After a pause, Declan said, "Perhaps three moon cycles. What season is it?"

Flare's cats laughed. Flare didn't join in, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. "We don't have seasons," she said.

Whirlaway added, "We have the snowy season, the icy season, the freezing season, and the snowy, icy, freezing season."

Bran didn't seem to get the joke. Frowning, he said, "We have periods of time when the snow melts, though that's only visible down in the lower parts of the mountain. When the river fills, some green sprouts over the—"

"It was a joke, Bran," Audrey said. "Whirlaway wasn't serious."

Bran looked surprised. "Oh. Sorry."

Literal-minded, Twist thought. You and Lucky would make quite the pair.

"Regardless," Declan said, attempting to reclaim the floor. "The Watchers move quickly. They have no subtlety, no plan. It's outright ambush. They dogged us for miles up the mountain without even a thought to cover their tracks. Lightfoot culled their ranks but they still outnumber us almost three to one. That poses a problem."

"Indeed." Flare frowned. "Jack? Thoughts?"

Blue-Eyed Jack shook her head. "I fight hawks and foxes, Flare. Not packs of psycho cats. And certainly not any in groups this large, if what the tom says is true."

"Declan." Lightfoot's voice was a cold snap. It was the first time Twist had heard her speak in days. She'd taken to haunting corners of the caves and sitting alone, speaking to no one. Unusual for some cats, maybe, but with Lightfoot, anything outside of vicious rage was abnormal. "His name is Declan."

Blue-Eyed Jack widened her pretty eyes and shut up.

Audrey shifted uncomfortably on the stone. "I lived with them for moon cycles. Declan's right. Blackjack wants blood and he'll do what he wants to get it. All of his hunts ended with a dead cat. He's relentless."

"So what we need to be is smarter," Flare said matter-of-factly, as if it were that easy. "Easily done."

Twist envied her naiveté. "How many battles have you fought?"

"What constitutes a battle?"

"This isn't the time for word games. Have you fought in a battle or not?"

All the amusement vanished from Flare's pointed face. "Not in your sense of the word. I grew up on the other side of this mountain. I had to fight the Clans for any mouthful. You'd know about that, wouldn't you, Lightfoot?"

"Me? Why would I?"

"Aren't you one of them?"

"One of who?"

"A Clan cat," Flare said irritably. She flicked her tail. "You have one of their names."

"Look, Red, this is the name I chose for myself. No Clan named me. And I've never been on your side of the mountain. I'm from the valley."

"Oh." Flare blinked. "I just assumed—"

"You assumed wrong," Lightfoot said crisply. "As you've assumed wrong almost the entire time we've been here. You think that it's easy to outsmart the Watchers? Ha." It wasn't even a laugh, just a single dry word. "They're smarter and stronger and braver than you."

"And you know this for a fact?" Flare asked quietly. At her side, Blue-Eyed Jack's back fur began to rile up. Even soft-hearted Bran looked insulted at Lightfoot's tone.

"Facts are so easily diluted. Let's look at the evidence." She stood up and began to pace. Her wounds still ached her: Twist saw her favoring a front paw, and the long weal along her side looked reddish in the gloom, even after a week of healing. "The Watchers have been at our throats for three moon cycles. As an estimate. I say we but I certainly don't mean you and your rock-dwellers. I mean the Sliders. They chased us up and over this mountain, never tiring, never failing, even as we tired and failed. Finally they trapped us in the ravine, where we thought we'd have shelter. Our little Hazel decided that wasn't the best idea, and split. I chased after her and—oh right—battled a wolf, and then found it within my beautiful bones to take out half of Blackfoot's strike party." She paused, just behind Flare. Flare followed her with her eyes, though she didn't stand or move out of the way. "That brings us to you, Red. You stole away in the night and brought us here, to your rock. Fed, sheltered, warmed. All that good stuff. But I forgot the most important part of what you did for us. You hid us. As you've hidden yourself. So tell me, kitten. How is it that the Watchers, who as stated have tracked, hunted, and killed for nigh on three moon cycles straight, aren't as smart or strong as you and your rock-dwellers?"

Flare was silent.

Lightfoot licked her lips, her eyes gleaming. It looked like she'd just taken a bite of freshly-killed prey. "Go on again about what's easily done," she taunted.

"Lightfoot," Declan said quietly. The room was already silent after Lightfoot's speech, and his voice rang clearly through it. "That's enough."

Lightfoot didn't look like she agreed but she sat down all the same.

"We'll call the meeting here," Flare said coolly. She hadn't fully recovered from Lightfoot's tirade and it was clear. Her fur was up and her tail was fluffed out. "Go see your gang and have a bite to eat. We'll reconvene at midday."

The circle broke, though not without a little resentment. Blue-Eyed Jack in particular shot Lightfoot a dirty look that the she-cat didn't even notice.

Lightfoot leaned close to Twist. She whispered, "These kits are still wet behind the ears. They need true battle training. Even their lieutenant the so-called fox-killer is too soft. Look at her pelt. No scars."

"Not everybody has your scars, Lightfoot," Twist whispered back.

Lightfoot looked pleased. The loss of her ear didn't seem to bother her. If anything, it inflated her bravado. "You disagree?"

"I don't," Twist said, surprising herself.

Declan overheard her. He leaned over past Streak to stare at her. "You're agreeing to battle training? You?"

Twist said testily, "I'm not above teaching cats to defend themselves."

"Since when?" His green eyes were wide. He didn't mean it as a challenge, just simple surprise, but Twist felt the anger rising up in her.

She pushed herself to her feet. The fury in her was so strong that it was shaking her to pieces. Her teeth rattled together. "Since we had to leave cats behind to die so others could keep living!"

Hurt flashed across Declan's face. Twist couldn't stand it anymore. She pushed past him, ignoring Streak's call for her to come back, until she was back in the main cavern.

Her sister saw her first. Anole darted to Twist's side. "What's wrong? What's happened?" Behind her, Hazel had stood and moved closer, uncertainty on her face. Streak went to her side and murmured something, and Hazel's marked eyes lit with understanding.

Twist kept walking past her, past all the eyes watching her, the voices questioning her, until there was light on her back and sun beneath her paws.

She was still walking, not entirely sure where she was headed, when she heard him behind her.

"Twist! Stop! Stop walking."

She didn't. Eyes burning, stomach in knots, she kept going until Declan cut her off, holding his tail out to block her way.

"Twist, wait." He leaned close to her, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Twist, we need to talk."

"No we don't." She sidestepped him but he leapt in front of her, cutting her off once more. She didn't want to look at him right now. She was terrified of what would come out of her mouth, what would rise up out of her cold, bitter heart.

Twist pushed into him but he held steady, even as she dug in her claws and shoved as hard as she could.

"We don't have to talk about anything," she said, grinding her forehead into his flank. "I don't have anything to say to you."

"Which is why you were shouting in the cave back there." He dipped his head to try and meet her eyes.

Twist looked at everything but him—the freezing snow, the clear, white sky, the broken back of the mountains that she hated, that she loathed, that she had never wanted to see ever again in her entire life. She wanted to run from here, to leap off the mountainside and run until her heart burst, until her lungs collapsed, until there was vibrant green around her and warmth on her fur, until she knew the stars in the sky as well as her own heartbeat, as the steady sweep of her stride, and the scent of Declan's fur when he held her at night, until nothing could frighten her, nothing could make her feel such emptiness. She wanted someone to grab her, to shake her, to make her feel something, something other than this overwhelming, devouring terror.

But she didn't say any of that. Trembling, pathetic, she kept her mouth and heart closed.

Declan let her stand there, shaking and heaving, almost sobbing. He didn't say anything. After a time, he sat down and drew her into his chest, stroking down her back with a paw.

"We left him behind," Twist whispered raggedly, resting her cheek in his white fur. "You took me from him. I wanted to stay. I should have stayed with him."

She felt Declan sigh, so softly that she wouldn't have noticed if she wasn't pressed against him.

"Gravel died alone. He died alone on that ridge. We paid for our escape with his life. How can you justify that?"

Declan didn't say anything for a while. Then quietly, he said, "He wanted to. We didn't make him. He knew what would happen."

"It shouldn't have." Her breathing wasn't regular yet. It felt like not enough air was in her lungs. Her head spun. "We could have saved him. I wanted to. I—"

"Gravel wouldn't have wanted you to die. He knew that we needed you."

"I needed him! Doesn't that mean anything to anybody? We went through hell together. When I thought I was going to die, Gravel was there. He helped me. He saved me. And now he's dead." Bitterly, she went on, ignoring the rising wind. "If I had been with him, this would all be over. I wouldn't have to…live with this. I wouldn't have to live with myself."

"No," Declan said. He pulled away from her, keeping his paw on her shoulder. "Don't say that."

"Why not?" Twist went on recklessly. "I have a group that doesn't like me, friends who couldn't care less, a child who loves the devil's son. Who do I have, really?"

"Me," he said, and for the first time since he'd spoken, his voice was not steady. His expression was raw, bared like an open nerve. "Don't think like this. Don't think that being dead would be easier." He blinked. "Don't leave me alone."

Twist's breath caught. "You'd be fine. Without me."

"I wouldn't. If you die, I die too. I want you to remember that." He dropped his eyes to the ground, where the snow had melted from the warmth of his body. "I'm sorry about Gravel. But I won't apologize for taking you from the ledge. I won't apologize for keeping you alive. I won't apologize for keeping you here for the Sliders, for Hazel. For me."

He looked back up at her and in his eyes was what had brought her back to life, so many moon cycles ago now, when she had first come down from the mountain. It was everything that meant anything.

Declan stepped closer. Twist hadn't stopped shaking. "If you don't want to live for yourself, that's your own choice. You have to deal with that. But find something else. Your family. Your mission. The Sliders. Anything." His face was solemn but his mouth was trembling. "Either of us could die before this is over. And if we do, we're going to be separated. Don't…don't make us be apart before that. Please."

Twist leaned into him. The hopelessness that had been strangling her was still there. It lay in a coil in her stomach, a pool of freezing water. It weighed her down. It threatened to drown her.

But she was strong. She could hold it back. She could push it off.

"I'm sorry," she murmured into his fur. She breathed in raggedly.

He bent his chin to rest it on her head. She fit perfectly against him, every line matched. Her equal. In every way. In any way that was possible.

When they drew apart, he looked at her. Curious. cautious. Worried.

Twist took a breath. It fell into her lungs cleanly. It cleared her head.

"Let's go," she said.

XXX

"When you're fighting, you need to keep your balance low." She laid a paw on North's back, pushing him down. He was a wiry thing, all white fur and gold eyes, but willing to learn. "The Watchers are all sizes, unlike the Claws. They'll come at you in pairs. You have to keep your back away from them."

"Who're the Claws?" North asked.

Twist thumped him with a paw. "Be quiet and listen. What did I just say?"

North sighed, but he sank lower, into a more balanced stance.

"Good." Twist moved among the cats, giving notes here, making a correction there. Declan was doing the same with a tangle of Flare's cats by the back wall. Streak was helping a trio of young she-cats, all who seemed more interested in batting their eyelashes at him than learning anything. She heard one of them, a fluttery creature named Wren, say, "Do you mind showing me that tackle again? I've forgotten," and laughing a little bit as Streak showed her the proper moves.

Flare was absent, but she'd sent Whirlaway to observe. He didn't say much, just sat across the way, watching the proceedings.

Flare had not put up a fuss when Declan and Twist came with their idea to train the cats to fight. Blue-Eyed Jack had given a sneer of derision, but Flare had simply said, "I'll allow it. But only after the morning hunts and patrols have been completed, and it has to be over before I send out the afternoon scouting parties."

That left a generous slice of time to work. Flare's cats were eager students. Every day brought new improvements, better tactics, smoother coordination. It was heartening to see after feeling so broken. Twist felt reinvigorated.

Lightfoot was taking a break from sparring, drinking out of the water drip in the corner. She was still drinking when Twist approached, even though it took a while to get through the crowd.

"Thirsty?" Twist asked dryly. "Or are you turning into a fish?"

Lightfoot took a breath, licking her lips to get the drops off. "Glad to see you've found your charming sense of humor again. I liked you better mopey."

"You did?"

Lightfoot sobered up. Her eyes flicked between Twist's, growing serious. "No," she said slowly. "No, I suppose I didn't. I'm glad you're feeling better, Twist."

"Wow," Twist said. "Kindness? From you? Let me catch my breath a second." But despite her teasing, Lightfoot's concern was genuinely touching. It was rare that the she-cat showed any sort of gentleness.

"Ha. I'm playing mentor to a dozen kittens. I guess I'm growing soft." She turned away, returning to her drinking. Twist drifted over to where Hazel was sitting alone, watching Streak spar with Horizon, an orange she-cat.

"Twist," she greeted simply.

Twist sat beside her. They were of equal height now. If anything, Hazel was a little bit taller, and broader across the shoulders. Strong. "How are you doing?"

Hazel shrugged. "I'm fine," she said flippantly.

Twist's mouth tightened. Hazel hadn't taken Kale's reveal well at all. It was understandable. Nobody expected a loved one to turn on them so suddenly.

It had been over a week now and she'd hardly spoken of him. Flare had called off the search. There was no point looking for someone who didn't want to be found.

Twist wanted to be surprised that Kale was with the Watchers. She wanted to be astonished that someone in her circle had turned their back on the Sliders.

But she couldn't be. Because all along, she had suspected him. She had mistrusted him. She hadn't wanted him to be in the circle.

That would hardly be productive to tell Hazel.

Instead she tried Declan's tactic. She put a paw on Hazel's shoulder. "How do you feel about training?"

It worked. Hazel let out a little laugh. "I never thought I'd get real battle training. I always thought I'd just grow old, catching rats in the Warren. Now…" She trailed off for a moment, her eyes growing distant. "I like it," she admitted. "I feel useful. And it helps. With the other thing."

The other thing. The tom she'd loved. Resorted to sideways talking and nameless mentions.

"Well," Twist said briskly. "Come on, then. You can spar with me."

"You can fight?" Hazel asked dubiously.

Twist swatted her over the ear with a sheathed paw. "I fought in the battle with the Claws. I'm practically a war hero."

Hazel scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Twist gave her an arch look. "Oh really? Well then, come on. Let me show you my tricks, young one. Prepare your mind. You might get your fur blown off you in shock."

Hazel laughed again, fuller this time, and followed Twist out into the open space.

"Uh-oh," Streak said. He was pinned by Horizon, who looked like she was enjoying herself more than the activity called for. "Twist's taking the field."

"I took the field when you were still a mewling kitten, brat," Twist said, flicking his nose with her tail hard enough for him to sneeze.

"Lightfoot, do you want to watch this?" Declan trotted forward, bringing his pack of cats with him. Even Flare had come out of her den, standing at the back of the circle, her eyes inscrutable.

Lightfoot's third of the group was working on evasion. They scampered and tumbled over each other to join. Anole was in the group, bright-eyed next to Sparrow. Twist had given the tom a stern talking-to about her expected treatment of Anole, but it was pointless. Sparrow acted like Anole spun the stars in her paws.

Twist stopped and turned around to face Hazel. "Let's see what these past few days have done for you," she said, sliding into a crouch. She kept her tail down and parallel to the ground. Her ears were flat.

Hazel mimicked her. Her claws came out, kneading the ground.

"On three," Declan said. "One, two—"

Twist blasted across the ground. She raked out a paw and knocked Hazel's feet clear out from under her. When the younger cat hit the ground, Twist whirled, kicking up her hind legs, bringing down her forepaws to trap her.

But to her surprise, Hazel had already moved. She swung a forepaw at Twist's head. Twist rolled with the blow, but compromised her balance. She staggered back, and Hazel kept coming, taking mincing leaps, keeping her forepaws braced on the ground.

She lashed out. Twist leapt over her paw, landing on it on the way down. Hazel hissed in surprise, trying to retract it, but Twist's weight held her in place.

"Rule one," Twist said, out of breath. "Never overextend."

Hazel curled up her lips in frustration. Dipping her head, she butted Twist in the chest, forcing her off. Hazel moved off, trying to reposition, but Twist was on her again. This time she leapt onto Hazel's back, springboarding off onto the ground beyond.

Hazel stumbled and that was all it took. Twist spun around her, kicking out a hind leg with her own, finishing it up with a whirling leap that planted her on Hazel's stomach, paws braced. Her hindpaws pinned Hazel in place. She couldn't budge a whisker-width.

Not that she didn't try. Hazel grunted in exertion, trying to pull her forepaws free, beating her hind legs uselessly on the ground. Twist felt her tail lashing.

"Done," Lightfoot said. "Twist wins."

Twist got off. Hazel pulled herself to her feet, shaking the dust from her back. "You cheated!" she accused, her pride sore now.

"The Watchers won't play fair. You have to cheat to win. Those are the rules of the game." She glanced up over the crowd and caught Stripes' eye. He out of everybody knew that.

Stripes gave her an approving nod. His throat had healed completely, leaving nothing but a pinkish-gray scar across his gray fur.

Hazel did not look so approving. "Again," she said. She fell into a fighting stance: back low, forepaws out, ears back.

Twist felt a bubble of pride watching her. In only a few short days, she'd made marked progress. The others were the same. A quarter of a moon cycle and they'd gone from kittens playing warrior to the real thing. Or at least, growing closer to it.

We can do it, she thought. We can fight them. We can win.

"All right," Twist agreed. "But this time, slower. Watch how I move. Try to copy it. On three. One. Two. Three."

Definitely inspired by AestheticB's INCREDIBLE MLP fanfiction The Immortal Game, which I tend to reread every few months. Right now I'm about halfway through, ravenously devouring it for like the fourth time. God, so good.

Other than that, things have been going pretty good for me! I finished my original novel that I've been working on for five years and I'm halfway through line-editing - which makes me want to die a little bit, but in a good way - and I got the good news that I get to go back to London the summer after next to visit my brother at grad school. -dances away into the sunset-

Honestly, it's just nice to have something to look forward to. Now that I don't have school anymore, I feel like time is going by too quickly. Like, this is halfway through August already? ALREADY? SOMEBODY STOP TIME, I DON'T WANT THIS YEAR TO BE OVER YET.

On that note, hope you enjoyed this chapter. XD

R&R~

Shadow