Almost a quarter moon had passed since Mothfall had met Creekfur at the lake. She hadn't yet been given the okay to return to her normal warrior duties, but Ambereye had deemed her fit enough to walk around camp. She'd helped out the apprentices when she could, and kept the sick cats company. She wasn't allowed back in the sick den; Ambereye wasn't sure if her weakened joints could make her more susceptible to greencough, but he wouldn't risk it. Besides, now that cats were getting better, it was easier for him to manage the patients on his own.

So she sat outside the den and shared stories from a safe distance. Oakpaw in particular was eager to hear her news of life outside the den. He had been getting better each day with the help of the catmint, but wasn't allowed outside yet. He never seemed thrilled to see her, and neither did Birdsong for that matter, but they were desperate to hear of anything other than their denmates' complaining, so they let her talk.

Glancing at the sorrowful faces peeking out of the sick den tonight, Mothfall wished she had a funny story to tell Oakpaw. A crescent moon shone overhead, casting the clearing in a soft glow as cats gathered in the center. Mothfall hung back near the medicine cat den, unwilling to face the cats lying stiffly in the center.

Frogjump, Seedshade, and Puddlespots.

She couldn't bare to face the reality of their passing. What was the medicine den without Frogjump's sour attitude? What was the warrior den without Seedshade's quiet presence, or Puddlespots' grumpy comments?

She could hear Beelight whimpering in the sick den. In her place, Ferntooth, Troutpath, and Specklefur crouched over Seedshade's body, noses buried in her thick golden-brown fur.

Sorrow hung over the camp like a thick fog; they had already held a vigil for Shiningeyes, and she'd overheard Ambereye tell Berrystar that Willowgaze wouldn't hold out for much longer. Despite the catmint, which had undoubtably saved Berrystar's, Oakpaw's, Birdsong's, Grasseyes', and Beelight's lives, he had simply been too far gone to fight the fever off.

Doing her best to ignore the nagging guilt panging her stomach at their deaths were her fault, Mothfall swept her gaze across the clearing. The entire Clan was mourning their losses, both those that have already happened and those that were yet to come.

All except for one.

Ratpelt sat next to Smallheart. He had laid his tail over her shoulders, and leaned over to murmer something in her ear. He looked for all the world a concerned Clanmate, mourning the loss of his Clan.

But as Mothfall observed, she noticed the exaggerated hunch in his shoulders, and the lack of tension in his lips as he spoke. His tail ticked back and forth across Smallheart's shoulders, pensive, but not worried. Not upset.

Did the deaths of his Clanmates really not concern him?

Of course it doesn't, she realized. In his mind, none of this matters, does it? If StarClan doesn't matter, neither does death.

For the first time, Mothfall found herself wondering if maybe he was right, after all. Maybe there was no morality. Why else would StarClan dare to take so many of their beloved warriors at once? These deaths, though they stabbed at her heart and left her empty inside, meant nothing, on a cosmic scale.

Maybe she was wrong to refuse to help him. Maybe she should have thanked him, that night in the forest, for opening her eyes to the truth.

Mothfall groaned and buried her face in her paws. Maybe none of this mattered.

None of it mattered at all.

As the moon continued to wane, things settled down. The death of their Clanmates weighed heavily on every cat, and the camp remained silent and dismal. But the cats that didn't die felt better every day. Ambereye had released Oakpaw and Beelight back to their warrior duties, saying they recovered faster with their youthful energy. The others were allowed to leave the sick den and sleep in the warriors' den, except for Berrystar, who had been released to the leader's den, and Briarstreak, who stayed with Ambereye, but none of them could leave camp.

Briarstreak spent most of her time in the medicine den now. She came out in the morning and at sunset, to organize patrols and check in with Berrystar, but spent the rest of her time in her nest, staying as still as possible and trying to recuperate.

The problem wasn't greencough. But even though the disease had left her, her cough had not. Mothfall couldn't doze off for long before Briarstreak's heaving coughs woke her up again. After what felt like the million and first time, Mothfall rose to her paws, shaking out her fur. "I'm going on a walk around camp. Stretch my legs," she murmured.

Briarstreak shifted in her nest, ears flattening as she stared at Mothfall. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault," Mothfall assured her, though it was.

Ambereye lifted his head to blink sleepily at her. That cat was such a heavy sleeper, he could get run over by a twoleg monster and he'd still sleep through the entire thing. While it was less than practical in an emergency, at times like this Mothfall couldn't help but envy him.

"You can join the warriors' den tonight, if you want."

She angled her ears forward, surprised. "Really?"

"You're still not allowed to leave camp for a few more days, but I don't need to constantly monitor you. See no reason why you can't sleep with your friends. If it helps you rest better, it'll only do you go."

She doubted any of those cats were her friend anymore, but she wouldn't bite the paw that fed her. She dipped her head and padded across the clearing. She could go little faster than a crawl, since her joints were still so stiff and inflamed, but at least she could walk without searing pain.

The warriors' den was quiet when she ducked in; it was late, and the cats that weren't on the night patrol had went to sleep long ago. She picked her way over to an empty nest and curled up. Her eyelids sagged with exhaustion, and she fell asleep before she tucked her tail over her nose.

When she awoke in the morning, the sun had already risen, and the den was over half empty. She recognized the cats who had done night patrol, Bravefeather and Shortleg curled together in a corner, as were the still-recovering Beelight and Birdsong. Grasseyes and Acorntuft were awake, heads almost touching as they conversed in low tones.

"Do you think Briarstreak will return to her deputy duties any time soon?" Acorntuft asked.

Grasseyes leaned forward to lick a spare scrap of bracken off of his friend's side. "Doubtful. She's hardly in good enough shape to tell a mouse what to do. I bet you a moon of dawn patrols that she announces her retirement by the next full moon."

"Wow," Acorntuft breathed. "Who do you think will replace her? You?"

"I wish," Grasseyes sniffed. "I'm a bit too old for that. Berrystar isn't just looking for a deputy, you know. She's looking for a successor. It has to be somecat with a bit of life in them yet."

"What about Beechtail? She's young, but she cares about the Clan."

"Too young, in my opinion." Grasseyes shrugged his light speckled shoulders. "We need a cat who can take charge. A cat like Ratpelt."

Mothfall's fur prickled as Acorntuft nodded. "Yes, Ratpelt would be a good leader. He's already practically our deputy. I know Briarstreak is well enough to organize patrols, but she's hardly involved with Clan affairs. Yesterday, I saw Heavysong report a scent of dog by the SkyClan border to Ratpelt, not Briarstreak. Didn't even hesitate. Walked right into camp and into his company."

Grasseyes nodded. "I thought Ratpelt was too invested in those apprentices he fawned over to show any promise in leadership. He's surprised me, these past few moons."

"In a good way, I'd hope," purred Acorntuft.

"Of course, in a good way, you mouse-brain," Grasseyes purred. He broke off and stared at his paws, frowning. "He always told me I'd be deputy one day," Grasseyes mewed, though by the wistfulness in his mew it was obvious he wasn't talking about Ratpelt. He rested his head on his paws, and Acorntuft settled down next to him, offering his quiet condolences.

Acorntuft licked his ear. "I miss Willowgaze too," he murmured.

When they quieted down, Mothfall rose to her paws and snuck out of her nest. Ratpelt, ShadowClan's next deputy? Ratpelt, ShadowClan's next leader? What was he playing at?

She stalked into the clearing, glowering when she realized Ratpelt's dark brown pelt was nowhere to be seen. She sat down in a sunny patch and started to clean herself, running her tongue over her pelt in long strokes. Her fur had become ruffled and unkept; it had been hard to find the energy to maintain its upkeep over the last few days, with everything going on.

She had hoped that taking some time to herself would help her calm down, but the longer she waited the more her claws itched to rip into something. Whatever her father thinks he's doing, he has another thing coming.

Just when she thought she would see red if she waited any longer, Ratpelt strutted through the entrance into camp, carrying two rats by their tails. Mothfall stalked over while he was setting his prey down in the freshkill pile. "We need to talk."

"Certainly," Ratpelt mewed, as calm as ever. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Not here. Outside of camp."

"But Moth," Ratpelt blinked, eyes wide and innocent, "You know you're not supposed to leave camp."

"It's not like that's ever stopped you before," Mothfall grit her teeth. "And don't call me Moth."

"Of course, Mothfall." The way he mewed her name made her shudder. Still, he followed her out of camp, for all appearances an obedient and willing father.

Mothfall padded until they were out of earshot and whirled around to face her father. She dug her claws into the soft pine needles, tail lashing back and forth. "What are you doing?"

"Right now? I'm talking to my daughter, who appears to be mad at me for reasons I can't fathom." Clearly unconcerned, Ratpelt sat down, licking his paw and swiping it over his whiskers.

"Don't be coy. Why are you trying to become deputy?"

"I'm not trying to be anything. This Clan had a need, and I'm providing for that need."

"But why?"

"Why not?" Ratpelt shrugged. He set his paw down and readjusted his position, moving his tongue down his shoulder and side. His tail flicked in Mothfall's direction. "As deputy, everycat will treat me with respect and do whatever I asked of them. That will even be more true when I become leader."

"That's a horrible reason to become deputy!" Mothfall's fur bushed out. "A good deputy should care about the wellbeing of her Clan."

"Why should I bother with being a good deputy?" Ratpelt shrugged. "I've told you, Mothfall, there's no 'good' or 'bad'. We make some decisions that have absolutely no impact to the universe, and then we die and go to StarClan. That's how it always was and that's how it always will be. I might as well make myself comfortable in this life before I ascend."

"That's just wrong." Mothfall's pelt itched, and she stepped backwards as if physically distancing herself from her father would make his words less disgusting.

He flicked his tail upwards, glancing towards the sky. "Pricklepaw would have been ecstatic for me. When I became leader, I would have made her my deputy, and we would have been so happy. Everycat would do whatever we wanted, and we'd want for nothing."

Mothfall glowered and dug her claws into the ground. She didn't speak.

When he looked back at Mothfall, he frowned. "You could have that, too, you know. If you apologize for disobeying me before, I'll let you be my deputy, and we can rule with a benevolent paw over ShadowClan. You'd have everything you could ever ask for. Your disorder wouldn't matter. If you didn't feel up to hunting, you could send out other cats to hunt for you. You would be happy, and pain-free."

For a moment, Mothfall found her defenses weakening. Her father made it all sound so reasonable. Didn't she deserve to live pain-free? Didn't she deserve happiness?

"You'd be a horrible deputy and a worse leader," she growled, even though her stomach roiled as she said it. She wanted it to be true. She needed it to be true. But was it?

"So? Who cares? It's not like it matters. Nothing does." Ratpelt gave himself one last lick before standing up. "If you'll excuse me, this has been a lovely break, but I need to get back to camp. Briarstreak wanted to speak with me after I finished my patrol." He stared at Mothfall, gaze lingering for an eternal heartbeat, before turning around and padding back into camp.

Mothfall watched him go, their conversation playing over and over in her mind. She knew (at least, she thought she knew) that he was lying, but his words had a way of worming into her mind so they couldn't easily be brushed off. It was hard to deny the allure of what he made sound like a reasonable truth.

Oof. Poor Mothfall. :C

There's only three chapters plus the epilogue after this! Eek! What will Mothfall do? What will happen to her and Ratpelt? We'll find out soon!