The she-wolf's flank rose and fell softly, Cindercall's gaze darkening.
She's weak, hissed a soft, venomous voice in her mind. Kill her. She can't fight back. If she gets help, she'll just kill cats all over again.
She paused when she felt a tail on her spine, and she whipped around to see Nettlepelt and Pearlight staring at her, her fur bristled with fear and anger.
"Cindercall..." Nettlepelt's voice was soft, and she briefly glanced back at the wolf. Pearlight followed her gaze, only for his eyes to widen.
"Wait... Nettlepelt," he held his tail up before the tom could speak. Before anyone could speak. "I... This wolf..." His gaze glowed with shock as he turned to the two cats. "I recognize it."
Cindercall paused, her ears pinning to her head.
"You do?"
"Yes," Pearlight mewed. "This wolf... It came to speak to Ashwater after the battle. It wanted to collect the dead bodies of the wolves..."
Nettlepelt froze, before glancing at the wolf in surprise.
"It is... It's the wolf that kept it's promise to Ashwater."
Cindercall turned to the she-wolf, her gaze widening.
Ashwater... Her heart squeezed in pain.
"Was this wolf in the fight...?" She wheezed softly.
"I never saw it," Nettlepelt mewed.
"Neither did I," Pearlight agreed.
Cindercall sighs, her gaze flickering over the torn up pelt of the she-wolf before her, once more.
Feather, was what she had said.
Feather...
The Clans will thrive under soot and ash, but death will come with the fire. With the power of the wild, cinder alone can snuff out the flame, while peace will rise on the feather of wings.
Cindercall's eyes widened further, and she bristled.
Oh, StarClan, she wheezed. Help me...
"You guys might think I'm crazy to say this," she whispers. "But we need to get this wolf help. We need to get her to Mumblebee."
"Are you crazy?!" Pearlight and Nettlepelt's shriek rose in the air, and Cindercall's ears pinned against her head at the noise.
Fleetpaw and Kestrelpaw, who had hung back, were shaken by not only Pearlight's reaction, but Nettlepelt's sudden burst at his mate.
"Maybe I am," Cindercall replied, her voice shaken. "They're the ones... Who killed everyone... Timbermask, Greysong, Moonbreeze, Shiningdawn... Frigidheart, Buzzardbelly... The ones who took Ashwater from me..." Her eyes became blank as she stared at Feather's unconscious body. "But... But do you... Remember the Prophecy?"
Fleetpaw and Kestrelpaw's ears perked up.
The Prophecy?
No cat had spoken of the Prophecy save for hushed whispers through the nursery and elder's den when they had been kits.
Nettlepelt's eyes widened further, and he looked back and forth between his mate and the wolf.
"You're saying that this wolf..."
"Yes," Cindercall mewed.
Pearlight was silent briefly, before turning to look to Fleetpaw and Kestrelpaw, and then back to Nettlepelt and Cindercall.
"We can't split up," he mewed at last. "I want to get Mumblebee, but... He's too far, and she won't make it if we go now and return with him."
"Well, we can't carry her," Nettlepelt mewed. "I know I'm on the larger side, but it took three cats to take one of these down. It'll take double that to carry one."
Cindercall's ears twitch, before she glances around with a slight sigh, before fluffing out her fur.
"Stay here with her, then," she mewed.
"What?" The two toms looked at her in shock.
"I can make it back to camp quicker than anyone," she mewed. "You know that."
"Woah, woah," Nettlepelt stepped forward. "You still don't have control of that, what if you—"
"I've done it before, I'll be fine," she fluffed out her fur. "It's only if it's for prolonged amounts of time... And it'll cut down half a day to a quarter of one. I'll be okay."
Pearlight and Nettlepelt turned to look at each other, before both stepped forward to speak.
"Cindercall, you can't just—" Nettlepelt began.
But the she-cat hopped over Feather, turning to look at them.
"Listen," she hissed softly. "Scorch is trying to get rid of the last part of the Prophecy. If she dies, that means I can die too, because the Prophecy is moot." Her gaze narrows, turning flinty. "I won't let anyone who's died so far die in vain, do you hear me?"
Her gaze flickered to Fleetpaw and Kestrelpaw, who watched her in stunned silence, fear, and confusion.
"Make sure they're safe." She mewed.
Before anyone could speak, she was off, dashing through the grass, almost as quickly as a SunClan cat.
Kestrelpaw moved over to the wolf's side, her eyes widening in horror as she looked over the gashes and wounds along the creature's pelt.
She had heard tales and stories about these things from Deadcreek, but now that she looked at one, it was clear that he had glossed over a lot of the nightmarish parts.
It's snout was huge, and with it slightly parted as it was, she could see sharp fangs, and she shook with fear at the thought of those fangs clamping around her throat.
Nettlepelt gently nudged her, causing the young apprentice to squeak in surprise, only to stop when she saw Nettlepelt clutching a bundle of herbs.
"What's that?" She asked, as the tom dropped the herbs and began to pluck off the petals and leaves. "Flowers?"
"It's marigold," Pearlight mewed. "You remembered?"
"With all that time I spent in the medicine cat den with Cindercall," Nettlepelt mewed softly, as he began chewing together a poultice. "Mumblebee taught me a thing or two to give me something to do." He snorts softly. "I got to the point where I could dress most of my wounds myself."
Pearlight's tail twitches, and he snorts.
"And here I thought you had been stricken with grief."
"Wait..." Kestrelpaw mewed. "Why was Cindercall in the medicine cat for so long? When was that?"
Pearlight and Nettlepelt fell silent, as the brown tom began spreading the poultice over each wound he found on the wolf's pelt.
She looked at each of them, her ears low, before Pearlight gave a soft sigh.
"It was... back when she was an apprentice," he mewed. "Something had happened, and uh... She was..." He swallowed, and Kestrelpaw noticed the flash of panic that glittered in both Pearlight and Nettlepelt's gaze. "She was... confined to the medicine den for some time."
Kestrelpaw's gaze dropped to the wolf in front of her.
"It was... Cuz of that Prophecy, wasn't it...?" She whispers. "Or it was cuz of the battle. No one says it outright, but that battle hurt a lot of cats, right? The Battle For the Moon Circle?"
Pearlight's ears lower.
"It hurt a lot of cats, yes," he agreed gently. "But we're not going to let something like that happen again, so... Don't worry too much." He offers her a kind look. "Everything will be okay."
Kestrelpaw nods, her gaze focusing back to Nettlepelt as she watched her father coat each wound with a large amount of poultice.
Fleetpaw came into view, holding up a paw covered in cobweb.
"Is this enough, Nettlepelt?" He asks, offering it to the tom. The tabby took the white substance, nodding as he spread it over the poultice to keep it in place.
"Yes," he mewed. "That should be good enough. I can't flip her over to check her other side, unfortunately, but... I think I've done all I can for now..."
"So... What do we do now...?" Fleetpaw asked softly.
"We wait for Cindercall and Mumblebee," Nettlepelt mewed. "Once they return, we can look to getting her proper treatment."
The sun had begun to set when the wolf's eyes began to open.
Kestrelpaw, who had sat beside the creature, noticed first, her eyes widening with surprise when she saw blue eyes meet hers.
The wolf lifted it's head very slowly at first, before glancing around. Nettlepelt and Pearlight were quick to pull Fleetpaw and Kestrelpaw back from the creature.
It barked at them softly, glancing around once more, before landing its eyes on Kestrelpaw and Nettlepelt, cocking its head curiously.
Pearlight glanced at Nettlepelt, before taking a small step forward.
"Uh..." He swallowed. "Hello?"
The wolf's ears lowered slightly, it's nose twitching as it pulls back from Pearlight slightly.
It gives a soft yip, before glancing around once more, pausing when it noticed the poultice and cobwebs on its fur.
Its gaze widened with shock, and it leaned closer, sniffing the plants and wincing slightly as it did so.
It turned to Nettlepelt, glancing at his paws—which the tom hadn't fully cleaned—and it's tail began to thump against the ground, it's jaws parting as it pants slightly.
Nettlepelt glanced at it's tail cautiously, his fur bristling a bit as he watched it.
It was like a cat's tail lashing, but something was... off about it.
It didn't seem hostile, but at the same time...
The wolf paused when it noticed his hesitation, and it's tail stilled, and it rested it's head on it's paws, snorting as it squints at him, as though thinking hard.
Nettlepelt couldn't help but lower himself to the ground, panic surging in him as he recalled the images he had seen throughout the battle.
Pearlight glanced at him, nudging the tom gently with his nose.
The wolf lifted it's head, blinking, before it began to... Crawl carefully towards Nettlepelt.
It whimpers slightly as it jostles it's wounds, but it manages to get close enough to the brown tom, it's breath huffing down onto him.
It took every bit of his self control to not lash out and attack, fear beginning to drive him crazy.
And then, he felt a soft, wet stone press against his ear. Blinking in surprise, it took him a moment to realize that the wolf had just touched it's nose to his ear.
He glanced at Pearlight, before turning back to the wolf, confusion now swarming in him as he studied the creature.
It cocked it's head at him, ears twitching as it waited for his reaction.
He paused, before sitting down and carefully licking his ruffled fur.
Pearlight snickers softly.
"I think you just befriended a wolf," he purred, amused. "It seemed pretty grateful for what you did." He nods to the poultice.
"Yeah," the tom replied. "I... uh... Not used to being so... up close to one... At least, not like this..."
Pearlight's gaze darkened, and the wolf's ears lowered, it's gaze dropping to the ground. It rested it's heavy head onto it's paws, huffing softly as it looked up at the cats with a strange expression.
Each cat stared in dazed surprise.
The face was soft, and sad, and incredibly... incredibly sweet.
Kestrelpaw's heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened as she stared at the incredibly adorable face that the wolf seemed to give them. Something about it hurt her more than anything, but it also made her want to cry with adoration towards the creature.
Nettlepelt's tail tip twitched, his fur ruffling even further.
"I don't like that," he squawks. "Nope." He reaches out a paw, shoving it onto the muzzle of the wolf. "Stop being that way. Please and thank you." The wolf blinked and stared at where his paw pressed against it's mouth, before it's large jaws opened and it's tongue slid out, swiping over the pads of his paw.
Nettlepelt yanked his foreleg back, screeching in surprise, his fur bristling in shock.
Pearlight broke down into laughter, albeit a nervous laughter, as he watched the brown tabby furiously scrub his paw into the grass, his amber eyes as round as moons with panic. The wolf watched in silence as the white and silver tom moved over to help the tabby clean off his paw, before turning it's gaze to Kestrelpaw and Fleetpaw.
The two apprentices stiffened under it's watchful gaze, as it cocked it's head and stared with an intense curiosity. Kestrelpaw glanced at Fleetpaw with worry, and the smaller apprentice shook underneath the wolf's gaze.
But then the wolf removed it's gaze, instead shifting into a sitting position, whimpering slightly at it's wounds. It's large head turned towards the trees, where Cindercall had disappeared, it's ears pricked and it's nose twitching.
Shortly after, Cindercall broke through the trees, huffing and puffing as Mumblebee trailed behind her as quickly as possible. In his jaws were cobwebs and marigold, far more than what Nettlepelt had, as well as a leaf that seemed to be oozing some kind of poultice.
Cindercall stumbled to a halt beside the wolf, panting harshly, Mumblebee skidding up beside her to take a look at the creature.
With a huff, the grey warrior flopped to the ground, immediately swarmed by Nettlepelt, who groomed her fur nervously.
Feather stared down at Cindercall as the large tom with the stubby tail began to treat her, her gaze glittering.
"Don't waste your power, Cinder," she murmured gently. "It seems to take much out of you."
"Don't tell me what to do," Cindercall snorted back, her ears lowering. "I got someone who could help you, the least you can do is thank me."
Feather paused, before nodding.
"You're right. Thank you. Your mate did help me quite a bit as well, if you could thank him for me?"
Cindercall blinked, before glancing at Nettlepelt, then back at Feather.
"How did you...?"
"The young one, over there," she nodded to Kestrelpaw. "His coat, but your eyes. It was a guess. A proper one if I must—" she cut off with a whimper as Mumblebee pressed against one of the larger wounds on her untreated side, her teeth gritting in pain. "A-anyway," she groaned softly. "I'm in your debt, Cindercall..."
"It was nothing," Cindercall shook her head. "You're apart of the Prophecy. I need you alive."
Feather stiffened, her eyes widening with confusion.
"What...?"
"The Prophecy."
"The Prophecy has no mention of me," Feather replied, eyes glowing with shock.
"What do you mean?" Cindercall snorts. "Of course it does. 'The Clans will thrive under soot and ash, but death will come with the fire. With the power of the wild, cinder alone can snuff out the flame, while peace will rise on the feather of wings.' You're the feather."
Feather's ears lower, her fur bristling.
"That... That is your Prophecy...?" Her gaze drops. "It is... I thought it would be the same as ours..."
"You're saying it's different for you?"
Feather's gaze darkens, and it turns skyward.
"For your Prophecy, it shows you a future. A future for your pack. But ours... Ours does not..."
Cindercall's gaze widened, as Feather continued.
"Fire is born and will blaze through the forest, destroying what was and changing what will be forever. Cinder alone can snuff out the light, and life for the pack will never come back."