A/N: Whoo, what a way to start November, am I right guys? Gonna keep politics and all that stuff out of this because I really hate talking about it, so moving on! I am actually pretty nervous about these next few chapters because like… Soot and Flare had a bit of a falling out so that should be fun trying to navigate that messiness with them. Fun times, hooray.

Thanks to MistFlame54, PopMordiscos, and hollyfrost666 for following and/or adding this story as a favorite!

Reviews

Someone (Guest)- Hooray for the City! Would you believe me if I said that I came up with Umbra at the beginning of that chapter? I created them quickly but I absolutely love them already. It does mean shadow, yes. Never watched Lord of the Rings. That's pretty much the vibe I was hoping to give off with them. Umbra is genderfluid. I won't say they would be a complete match to Phantom in a fair fight, but Umbra doesn't fight fair. It is questionable yes, which is what I exactly wanted it to be. Definitely superstitious. Oh, there definitely isn't a supernatural aspect to this story, it's literally just a story passed down by Father- who was paranoid. To Blazeclan! Yes, he is pointing fingers at everybody now. Let's hope Sootpaw allows himself to grieve. Umbra would start out at Twelfth and rise if they wanted to- I'd estimate maybe around seven or eighth rank if they really strived for it.

FrostedShadowx- Chapters come out every other week, but I'm glad to know you're anticipating it this much haha! Dunno, we'll see (I do know, but that's beside the point muahaha). He is their kit, yes. And that remains to be seen. Glad you're enjoying it! Not a problem. Sorry for that hiatus back then, I can't guarantee it won't happen again, but it certainly won't be voluntary. I follow a schedule for my own sanity, sorry XD. Perhaps? We'll see, we'll see- I love reading theories. Can't promise I won't kill anybody, everybody has the potential to die. Huh, now that's an interesting theory with Rainpaw and Umbra. I hear your requests but I can't make promises haha. Thanks for going back to read older chapters haha: Swiftpaw was indeed killed by Shard and Ghost and Phantom when they were there. Best fighter of the clans goes to Leafstar, but Redstar is an excellent one as well. Oh ho ho, more theories about King's identity. I did hint before that the graves by the dead willow tree Flarekitty visits are technically empty (because they couldn't find the bodies, assuming they were both burned to ashes). Great theory.

ExtremePoopypants120- Thank you! I don't have a beta reader, so I'm the only one who writes and edits the chapters so sorry for the errors. As for actual storytelling flaws, I'm glad that I've been avoiding them, let me know if you find any I can possibly fix. Ah, well, now we know why Redstar has such a soft spot for Sootpaw, but sorry it was repetitive. Yeah, I do have a Redstar backstory planned eventually. I don't personally watch Star Wars, but I do remember the reference (and it made me spit out my water, congratulations).

silhouette amongst stars- Welcome back! Oh yeah, it's definitely windy and cold here in the Bay Area now and I dunno how I'm gonna handle working out outside anymore because of it. Ah well, I'll figure it out. Well, thanks for reviewing every chapter! Oh yeah, I remember that! Happy for you. I try to make sure I have a solid chunk of the outline done ahead of time (still not completely fleshed out, but I do have the ending in mind and chapter names). Oh, it's definitely gonna come back to bite him, we'll just have to wait and see. Always a sad day when the power couple has a falling out. I hope you enjoy where the story continues from here. That does sound pretty cool! I wish I had a dartboard, that would be a lot of fun and a great way to relieve stress. Happy (late) Halloween!

Echofre (Guest)- Umbra is indeed genderfluid! Glad I can make you happy. Thanks for reading! Ask the questions and I may answer a few.

PopMordiscos- Wow, people read this story very quickly haha. I find that to be a personal achievement, getting someone to cry because of my story. Sorry though, lol. Nice selection there. Oof, wonderful theory and we'll have to wait and see just how it plays out from now on.

jassheiksfa- Thank you! Oh, right… Haha. Uhh, about that… The dreams that they had, in the beginning, was meant to tie into the role their ancestors had, an idea that I have officially scrapped altogether. So, those dreams aren't really important to the main story anymore, sorry. Well, there's no official "Starclan" Starclan, they just call them ancestors. The Grand Royals do not have nine lives, only one like everybody else.

Thanks to everybody who reviewed, followed, and/or added this story as a favorite!

Let's get started!

Blazeclan

Commoners bury the dead at the cusp of dawn.

Flarepaw didn't know that. And it felt horrible that she didn't because didn't she claim that she wanted to change the clan and its system? Didn't she say that she wanted to help the Low Ranks? But how could she, when she didn't even know anything about them?

Commoners bury the dead at dawn- when the beginnings of a new day bled into the sky with the reds and pale golds of the rising sun. It was fitting, really. High Ranks buried their dead at moonhigh, silver rays and black shadows painting the scene, celebrations and songs and chants and stories in remembrance of the fallen going on and on until the sun was high in the sky the next day. Flarepaw could hardly remember attending ceremonies as a kit, or maybe she wasn't allowed to because she had been so young, and the clan had been too heartbroken and devastated to truly hold the rituals for Flamepaw and Willowflame.

Flarepaw had done that alone, in her own way, finding the dead willow tree in a brand new home and unfamiliar territory and found it fitting to "bury" them there. She had dug the holes herself, not knowing how deep one needed to be, and filled it with branches and berries and vegetation and rocks and anything she could find to make it seem like something was there. Perhaps that's the part that hurt the most, there had been nothing to bury because the bodies were most likely reduced to ashes.

And now, hiding in the shadows of the forest line and looking into the clearing where the Commoners gathered, Flarepaw got the sense that she was watching something incredibly private. Their numbers were pitiful and painful to look at; only four warriors, one Queen, and one apprentice. One apprentice, she frowned to herself, because Sootpaw is still in the Prisoner's Den.

Just as he hadn't been able to be there for his mentor and his friends in their final moment as they drew their last breath, Sootpaw would not be allowed to bury them either. He was stuck in the den where her father had killed Frost, where Prisoners before him had starved and begged for death to release them from their confinements because the clan certainly wouldn't. Stuck, with only his anger and his violent grief and she hoped that Hollypaw had fared better than her because despite what he had said- he needed someone.

"What was I expecting from the daughter of that monster?"

"I'm such an idiot thinking you could've been different."

"You're just like him!"

Flarepaw closed her eyes as the pain in her chest and the piercing agony in her head became a bit too much for her. The darkness behind closed lids was even worse because she could still see Sootpaw's bared teeth and blazing eyes. His words echoed in her skull and she tried, she tried to not take them to heart as Sagepaw told her to. He was hurting: those who were hurt, hurt others. It was a twisted way of healing that she had experienced herself- if Emberpaw's scar was anything to go by- so she understood.

But… still…

It hurt.

It hurt because it felt like she lost him and she had no way of getting him back and it was her father's fault for suggesting this (so, by extension, it was her fault). She had gone in there prepared for battle and left more terribly wounded than any fight she ever came across. Her eyes stung with tears and her heart ached but she pushed both of them aside because he had lost Thornblaze and Mousepaw forever and it was not her day to be grieving. It was Sootpaw's. It was the Commoners'.

Sagepaw's warmth was a constant reassurance at her side, and though she had snuck out here when all the Commoners began carrying the two bodies halfway across the territory to a remote area, her brother had followed. Flarepaw knew he would have probably gone regardless of her being there as well.

When she had left the Prisoner's Den, scolding herself for saying such harsh words back to someone who was grieving, Sagepaw had been waiting for her. He had said nothing, not asking for her to explain, and instead, he had just pulled her into an embrace and held her even while Hollypaw walked by them. Flarepaw wondered what the Medicine Cat apprentice had thought of it all- if she had already passed judgment on her.

(For half a heartbeat, she wondered if this was the moment Hollypaw had warned her of before. Where Sootpaw fell and it had been Flarepaw's job to catch him. But she failed, she failed so miserably and now Hollypaw had to clean up her mess and now she would never trust Flarepaw with Sootpaw ever again.)

(That also hurt… She was just starting to like Hollypaw and a part of her didn't realize just how much she wanted to impress or be regarded in a bright light in the other she-cat's eyes until now, the moment that she ruined it.)

"Flarepaw," her brother's soothing rumble urged her to open her eyes, to escape the harsh memories and Sootpaw's hate-filled gaze. The Grand Royal apprentice turned her eyes to him and there were about a thousand different apologies on her tongue seeing such pain on his face. She made everything so difficult for him, always needing his support and she wondered if she would ever be strong or stable enough to be his support. (She wondered if he ever got tired of her, and if he did, would he leave her behind too?) Sage green eyes regarded her for a quiet moment before he found the courage to murmur, "Are you sure you want to see this?"

Of course, she didn't want to. Not even morbid curiosity could drive her to witness such a sacred ritual, but she owed it to Sootpaw and she owed it to the rest of the Commoners to try. She was trying to be different, she was trying to make a change, and all that started with assimilating herself and familiarizing herself with the life and struggles of the Low Ranks.

"You're just like him!"

She wasn't. And though she had said as such time and time again- had convinced herself that she wasn't, for comfort- she had yet to prove it and Flarepaw could not allow herself to grow complacent. Wildfire and Willowflame had both taught her that talk was cheap, that actions spoke louder than words, and if she wanted to show that she was changing or improving, then she would have to prove it.

Flarepaw took in a deep breath, staring at Sagepaw with a sad smile on her lips. Such a worrywart you are. I don't think I've done anything to deserve you yet. With a croaking voice, a whisper, Flarepaw said, "I have to."

Sagepaw's whiskers twitched, muzzle wrinkling slightly before his features dropped into a frown and he blew out a heavy breath. What did it seem like she was doing in his eyes? Did he think she was punishing herself by being here?

Maybe she was, but that wasn't the only reason for doing this.

"You're just like him!"

I'm not, and she would prove it. To Sootpaw, to the rest of the clan, to her father. Even to herself.

"You don't have to join me," Flarepaw said before slowly standing up, looking back out towards where the Commoners were circled around the bodies of their deceased. Tears fell from every pair of eyes, shoulders shaking and a few sobbing quietly. The pregnant Queen- Feathersong, her name is Feathersong- had pressed her muzzle against Thornblaze's cheek and had yet to move from her place since they arrived here.

"Do you honestly think I'd leave you alone?" Sagepaw raised a brow, looking almost offended for a second, before he stood at her side, a gentle smile to his lips. "You're not the only one who has to be here."

That's right. She wasn't the only one trying to change, trying to make things right in the clans for the Low Ranks. Sagepaw had already made great strides without her, having had his mindset changed long before hers. She mourned what could have been had she just been more willing to change a long time ago. Who would she be now? Would she have been able to beat her father if she had stopped living the life he controlled and mandated earlier?

(Would Sootpaw still be in one piece? Would he still be so consumed by grief and despair and rage that it destroyed him?)

She shook her head. The questions that would go unanswered didn't matter. Perhaps in a different lifetime, they could've happened. But this was not that lifetime. Her life now was full of troubles and pain and a darkness so devastating she honestly didn't know how her light could still be here. But it was, and she was convinced that just over this mountain, there would be a beautiful valley waiting for her.

She just had to keep on pressing on.

Flarepaw blew out a slow breath, preparing herself and sending a glance to Sagepaw (for reassurance or something else, she didn't know), before stepping out of the shadows of the forest. Her advance to the gathered Commoners was awkward, to say the least, slow and unsteady and she was trying to meet the eyes of any of them but it actually took a while for them to lift their heads. When they did though- Owlpelt, she caught Owlpelt's gaze first- Flarepaw immediately came to a halt when they began to stiffen and startle to attention.

The Commoners turned to her curiously, and Flarepaw could only frown seeing such raw grief on each of their faces- grief that quickly turned to weariness and even anger in a few. Feathersong had yet to stir from her spot, and for a moment, Flarepaw thought the grieving Queen was in a realm not entirely their own. Trapped in her thoughts and blissful memories of a simpler time with her love. Flarepaw wished she had the power to raise the dead, to reverse time, anything to take away their pain. She knew what it was like, to lose someone you loved, to lose multiple someones you loved at the same time.

A heavy tension joined the suffocating cloud of choking grief in the air as the weary eyes remained on her, untrusting and scared and full of pain, and the longer the silence stretched on, the more she was quickly regretting her decision to be here. Sagepaw was at her side, a small step behind to give her room to do whatever it was she had been planning to do.

She wanted to… she didn't even know anymore. Give her condolences? If the Commoners grieved in the same way Sootpaw had- distrusting of the High Ranks and their pretty white lies- then they wouldn't even believe her anyway. Maybe her mere presence was offending to them at this moment.

And when she opened her mouth to speak, to say anything, even a simple sorry, her assumptions were proven true.

The Commoner with black fur and dark green eyes- Ravenflight, remember their names. They are worthy of their names- bristled at the sight of her, lips curling back, and the she-cat at her side- Swiftleaf- gave a nervous glance in her direction, murmuring something quietly to her, but Ravenflight ignored it. Flarepaw could almost see the moment she snapped, temper reaching a fever pitch and anguished grief stabbing at her heart.

"Have you come to gloat?" Ravenflight's voice was rough with tears and heartache and Flarepaw had to hold herself together with just how similar it sounded to Sootpaw's tone. Swiftleaf, at her side, reached out towards her, but Ravenflight took a step around the laid out bodies and made as if to approach the Grand Royal apprentice, blocking the others with her body alone. "Or did you get bored without us in camp to torture?"

"Ravenflight," Swiftleaf murmured in a broken voice, but the rest of her sentence was cut off by the clog of emotions in her throat, turning her gaze down and letting more tears fall. Brightstreak sat closer to her, Owlpelt looking like he wanted to do the same but was busy holding up Adderpaw instead.

Feathersong still had yet to stir.

"I…" Flarepaw whispered, her voice breaking. This was a terrible idea. They don't want you here. What could you offer them? Sagepaw stepped closer to her as she floundered for words, cowering back slightly and lowering her gaze to the ground, ears drooping and Flarepaw had a moment where she couldn't help but wonder when she had grown so meek, so weak.

No. Not weak. She had just grown tired of fighting everyone all the time. She didn't want to fight anymore. She wanted to heal, she wanted to achieve peace.

"Well?" Ravenflight hissed, taking another step closer, and Sagepaw at her side stiffened. "Say something, Grand Royal Flarepaw."

Her title was used tauntingly. Huh. She was getting a lot of that these days. When had the title of Grand Royal become equivalent to an insult to her?

"I'm sorry." She muttered, and it sounded useless to her ears. Willowflame had taught her that an apology could go a long way, but here, it only seemed to set things backward.

"You're sorry?!" Ravenflight scoffed and let out a bitter laugh, watery and choked with tears still. "You didn't seem so sorry when it was your kind who decided to let us die. You didn't seem sorry enough to try and stop it. Don't pretend that you're sorry because, quite frankly, it's insulting! If you really were sorry, you would've done something to help, but all any of you did was sit back and watch while you all decided to kill us. Is that all we're here for? Is that what we are to you? A pet you can torture and play with and toss aside when you decide you've had enough?"

The remaining Commoners looked like they wanted to stop Ravenflight from speaking further, but none of them seemed to want to move either, sharing glances. As Flarepaw looked between them all, she jumped slightly when Feathersong's dark blue eyes met hers. The Commoner Queen moved slowly and with great difficulty as she sat up, body reluctant to move away from her mate.

"Just leave us alone!" Ravenflight shouted and it sounded more like a desperate sob than an angry cry. "Haven't you've already done enough to us?"

Flarepaw felt something in her chest crack and splinter and she thought for a second that those cracks and splinters reached her soul as well. This was it. This was the moment where everything came spilling out and she was almost afraid of letting it happen.

"I haven't…" Her voice was a croak and she made the futile effort to clear it before forcing her tongue to form the words. "I haven't done anything to help you. You're right… All I did was sit back and watch and I didn't… I didn't do anything. And so, I'm sorry. It's evident you don't believe me, and I don't blame you. My kind has not been fair to yours, my kind has been the source of your suffering and all I've done is sit back and let it happen. I wouldn't trust me either. In your eyes, I come from a place of privilege, and perhaps I really do. I'm… not very good at this. Sharing condolences to the grieving because everything I say must sound like a lie to you.

"So I'll make this quick," Flarepaw breathed out, and with them listening, it was much easier to talk now. "This system has not been kind to you. To any of us, and we have all suffered, but you all especially. I… I want to help change it. I want to make a world where Low Ranks don't have to die just because it benefits those at the top. I want to make a world where you don't have to fear your own clanmates, where you don't have to wonder whether or not today will be the day someone decides to attack you because they can get away with it. I don't want to stand by and watch my clanmates tear each other apart just because a ranking system allows it."

Flarepaw looked between them all, and for a moment, she imagined that Sootpaw was there as well, and her next words were for him specifically.

"I want this world to be a better place for you… I want it to be good." Flarepaw closed her eyes and gave a slight shake of her head, letting out a laugh tinged with bitterness, "And maybe it's naive of me to think that I alone can make a difference. After all, I don't know your pain. I don't know your suffering and I never truly will. But I promise, I promise, I am going to try to make it a better place."

Her eyes turned to Feathersong then. "I'm just sorry I couldn't do it fast enough. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to help them now, I'm sorry I was too late. I'm sorry. But I will fight for you, stars forbid this happen again, but if it does… I won't let it."

She shuffled her paws awkwardly, ears twitching to flatten and she glanced nervously to Sagepaw to seek comfort and familiarity. Her brother looked back at her with an expression akin to pride, an encouraging smile to his lips as he gave a nod. Flarepaw let out a shuddering breath before looking back at the Commoners. The fight had left Ravenflight and now she was just staring at the Grand Royal apprentice; the others, too, were staring and Flarepaw was beginning to grow uncomfortable.

"I'll…" her ears flattened a bit and she gave the gentlest smile she could muster at the moment, "I will leave you with that. And leave you to your… ceremony. I apologize for interrupting."

She gave a slight grimace but decided it was better than nothing. She figured she had overstayed her welcome as it was, and she didn't know if her words had made things better or infinitely worse. It was a little surreal and more than a little embarrassing just how out of her element she felt here, speaking with a Low Rank that wasn't Sootpaw or Darkpaw.

Flarepaw waited for a handful of heartbeats, each one pounding in her chest and the blood roared in her ears to make her momentarily deaf. The Commoners had stopped staring at her, now looking towards each other, and Ravenflight wordlessly wandered back over to Swiftleaf and sat beside her, ears flat against her head and face contemplative. Okay, time to go.

Flarepaw shared another long look with Sagepaw, her brother, understanding, gave a nod of his head and turned away. She turned to follow, pawsteps heavy against the snow because she didn't feel the need to be quiet here. Quite frankly, she was tired of sneaking around, afraid of others finding her doing something she wasn't supposed to, of breaking rank, but now… Now the Commoners had been hurt because of her desire to stay hidden.

It was time for her to step out of the shadows for once and face the problems head-on instead of finding a way around them.

Just as she reached the very edge of the clearing, the dead oak trees extending their branches to her as if to beckon her into their shadowy embrace, a voice behind her spoke up.

"Grand Royal Flarepaw."

She stopped immediately, taking a moment to wonder if she should actually turn around and already prepared to apologize for interrupting their grieving, and turned partially around to face them better, eyes questioning. Feathersong's dark blue eyes were disarmingly warm and caring despite the pronounced grief and pain in them as well. (Flarepaw supposed it was a mother thing. Willowflame's eyes had been just like them.) The rest of the Commoners looked to the Queen curiously as well.

Silver met dark blue and it had been so long since Flarepaw saw such a warm expression, it honestly made her uncomfortable.

"Yes, Feathersong?" She questioned, and there was a brief flicker of surprise in those eyes and Flarepaw was immediately confused and- oh. It had slipped out, not using the title of Commoner before the name, using the Queen's name at all. She liked to think that was at least a little proof of her progress (it was always the little things that went a long way).

Because it was that small thing that made the hint of a smile appear on Feathersong's lips, that made her glance down to the peaceful expression of her dead mate- clean from any blood and wounds meticulously- and then back again.

"Would you like to help us bury them?"

Flarepaw… had not been expecting that. And it showed, her eyes going wide for a moment as a strangled gasp crawled its way from her constricted throat. She took a step back as if she had been attacked and bumped into Sagepaw behind her.

She waited a moment, hesitant, not really knowing how to answer because… well… She may not have understood their ceremonies for the dead, but she did understand the importance- the sacredness- of burying the dead. In all honesty, she didn't think she had the right to help.

But if Feathersong asked her… Then, maybe it really was okay.

"Are you… Are you sure?" Flarepaw stressed her question, eyes flickering down for a moment to the two bodies and quickly looking away because she simply couldn't stand to see them anymore. She had tried so hard to help stop their bleeding and still failed. "I don't want to intrude on any of this."

"It's not intruding if I am extending the offer," Feathersong said with a smile that was just inherently wrong as smiles went. Smiles shouldn't look so sad, so heartbroken, or resigned. Smiles should only appear when you were so happy you couldn't control yourself. Yet still, Flarepaw felt as though she was seeing a lot of these sad smiles lately. Feathersong looked to the other Commoners, none of them openly complaining against it, and nodded. "Only I spoke with Roseberry and… I'm aware of just how hard you tried to help already. You did do something to try and help, and that's more than can be said about everybody else."

"It's not enough," Flarepaw choked on her words a little and she forcibly swallowed down the clog of emotions, eyes stinging for a moment as she huffed out a bitter breath. "It wasn't enough."

"But it was something," Feathersong reassured and it felt so wrong to be the one needing reassurance. It should have been the other way around, wasn't the reason why Flarepaw came here was to give her condolences? "And now I'm asking if you wish to do more."

This felt like a test hidden within the proverbial olive branch. Would it be wrong of her to take it more than it would be to refuse? Or would it be wrong to refuse it instead?

Prove yourself, the request seemed to say even though Flarepaw had the sense that Feathersong was never one to speak in double meanings and pointless tests.

You said you will change, now prove it.

Flarepaw took in a deep breath, taking a hesitant step forward, gauging their reactions and feeling a great deal of relief when none of them immediately bristled or flinched back at her approach. She walked slowly towards them, heart in her throat and beating rapidly the closer and closer she came.

"It would be an honor," she said, even though that didn't entirely feel like the right words she had wanted to say. She just didn't know how to express how much it meant to her, how important this was. Flarepaw glanced at the other Commoners, "but only if all of you are okay with this."

Owlpelt gave her a simple smile in response and said nothing more, glancing questioningly at his apprentice and Adderpaw just gave a tired twitch of his lips in response as well. Brightstreak gave a slight bow of her head and Swiftleaf nodded before glancing nervously to Ravenflight. Dark green eyes regarded her, the distrust still evident in them, but she eventually relented as well.

It would take more than just this act to win them all over, but at least it was a start.

It's a start.

Feathersong invited Sagepaw over as well, her brother moving to sit with the others instead of joining her side and Flarepaw could only meet his eyes for comfort instead of leaning into his warmth. He was still there though, still within her reach if she really needed him, and that was more than she could have asked for.

The Commoner Queen was the first to stand, crouching with slight difficulty to draw her muzzle across the top of Thornblaze's forehead first, and then Mousepaw's. The deceased apprentice would most likely get her name later- after they were buried and the Grand Royal came to say the honorary words. Flarepaw didn't know at the moment if she would stick around for that, and if she did, she didn't know if she should stay in the shadows or sit with the others.

"May the stars guide you home," Feathersong mumbled, her quiet voice loud with the silence that settled over them all. "May the winds lead you to our ancestors. May they keep you safe in the sky. May you find a sanctuary of peace. Wait for us, we shall join you when our journeys have reached their end as well."

The Queen stepped away then, sniffling slightly and turning to walk a few steps closer to the roots of a tree. Once at a seemingly random point between the bodies and the tree, she began shuffling snow aside slowly. While she did that, Brightstreak moved next. The pale ginger warrior crouched as well, running her muzzle across their foreheads and whispering into the air between them, "May the stars guide you home."

Brightstreak stood, sparing a moment to look down at them forlornly, before going to join the Commoner Queen, wordlessly saddling up beside her and beginning to dig as well. Swiftleaf moved next, leaving Ravenflight's side and repeating the process, her words choked but she managed to say them. She moved to a new area, a pawstep or two away from the others, and began digging a new hole.

Owlpelt and Ravenflight proceeded with a heavy stiffness to their limbs, the former not being able to hide his sob as he stood over Thornblaze's body and barely managed to say the words out loud. Ravenflight just looked so heartbroken, lost. Adderpaw was the last, spending more time against Mousepaw's body and whispering against her skin what sounded like apologies and 'I love you's'.

Flarepaw chose not to listen to his words, glancing away to give him a moment of privacy and finding Sagepaw's eyes on her. There were tears in his eyes, and though, just like her, he had no personal connection to Thornblaze or Mousepaw, the miasma of grief was contagious and poisoning. (Perhaps, he was probably envisioning the bodies to be someone he cared about as well. She wondered if she was one of them.)

At last, it was only them two now, Adderpaw having joined the others. Flarepaw took in a deep breath before standing up from her place, walking over to the tops of their heads and mimicking what she had seen the others do.

"May the stars guide you," she whispered against Thornblaze's skin, emotions swelling in her chest and she had to catch the sob before it could escape before she added, "I'm sorry."

Again, she repeated the process with Mousepaw, mumbled a just as broken "I'm sorry" against her skin as well before moving away. She hesitated to immediately join the others, but a nod from Feathersong encouraged her to stand across the way from her, glancing down. They had moved the snow aside enough and had reached the earth. Flarepaw blew out a short sigh before extending her paw down, scooping and scraping the dirt and loose roots of dead plants aside with the others.

The entire process wasn't that long, considering how many of them were digging, but to Flarepaw, it felt like forever. She had done this before, and the memories of that time pushed against the front of her skull for her attention and as she closed her eyes and heard the digging and the occasional sniffle or sob, she let herself see them once more.

She didn't know how long it had been since they relocated. Forestclan had been very generous with giving up their entire territory to them, but Flarepaw didn't exactly have an opinion on that matter. Later, she would, when the grief wasn't so raw every day felt like the day she would wake up from this horrible, horrible nightmare and Flamepaw and Willowflame would greet her like normal.

She wasn't waking up though. Every time she closed her eyes for an extended period of time- it didn't exactly feel right to call it sleep, because did it count as sleep if it didn't feel like she got any rest and if her mind kept racing?- and reopened them again, nothing had changed. Flarepaw had grown tired of being in the new Medicine Den, had grown tired of looking across an unfamiliar camp and surrounded by scents of a brand new forest that wasn't home.

The rest of the clan hardly mattered to her. Their opinions and their beliefs at least. She could tell some of them absolutely hated this place, while others had been much too grateful to truly complain about it. The nights and the days blended into a horrifying mix of the sun and moon and time seemed nonexistent altogether.

Flarepaw spent most of her nonexistent time staring at the wall of the Medicine Den, her den assigned here. All this room, just for her. All this space, with no one else. Flamepaw should have been here. He would have been here.

If only she had just listened to him, if only she hadn't run to that part of the territory when the storm began. All because of their first heated argument.

She hardly remembered what it had been about at all. It seemed unimportant now. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't worth losing her brother over.

And Willowflame…

It hurt to think about them, and it hurt to not think about them. She was scared of forgetting them- and she was scared of remembering them. If she remembered them, would she be like this for the rest of her life? A husk of a shell with no motivation or anything to get going anymore. If she forgot about them, who would she become?

For once in her life, she wanted Wildfire to give her direction. At least then, she wouldn't have to think for herself, at least she would have something to work toward (even if it wasn't what she wanted).

It could have been weeks or moons or just a few days since that disaster. Flarepaw never really knew she was outside until she felt the flow of wind through her pelt or squinted against the blinding rays of the sun. The world was filled with white noise and her vision was all a blur, voices blending together and faces becoming incomprehensible.

The dead willow tree had been the first thing she saw since color and sight had vanished from her body. She didn't even know how she had got here, didn't know how she had snuck past those who were supposed to be keeping an eye on her (as ordered by Roseberry, apparently Flarepaw wasn't allowed to be alone if she so happened to leave the den that day). There were questions she didn't care to find the answers for.

Something drew her to this tree, and it was fitting, in a way. It was the only dead thing in the oak forest, the only different type of tree too. It was something so out of place, it looked like someone had made an accident when creating this world. It didn't belong here.

Just like how she and the rest of Blazeclan didn't belong in the oak forest.

It was ironic, and it was comforting too. Her mother had told her many stories and many random facts and seeing the dead willow tree made her laugh for the first time in what felt like seasons.

Willow trees, for what her mother was named for, symbolized hope. Safety. It gave a sense of belonging. They symbolized the path to healing and stability- reminded her of the ability to let go of pain and suffering to grow new, strong, bold.

Perhaps it was why Flarepaw felt the drive to get closer to it, to lean her weight into it, and finally, finally break down until she could hardly breathe. She didn't know how long she spent there, draped over the dead roots of the tree, staring up at the leafless branches, but then again, time was nonexistent so it didn't really matter.

She felt empty. Having released all of her tears and grief and pain and everything with her cries and sobs and wails. It was… It was a strange sensation, being empty. Feeling empty- it was a vast improvement over all the suffering she felt recently. She knew it probably wasn't going to last long, that the wound was still so fresh and raw that this emptiness, this nothingness was only going to last a day if she was lucky before all that grief and pain and tears began to build up again.

She was scared to remember and she was scared to forget them. It seemed insulting to try and forget, but it also seemed much too terrifying to continue remembering. One step in either direction was three steps back for the other and Flarepaw felt herself tearing in two or three or seven or twenty different pieces entirely. (Again, she wanted her father's guidance, wanted him to set her on a path of his choosing because at least then, she was all in one piece. Broken and chipping and damaged, but still in one piece.)

Flarepaw stood up from the roots, broken pieces of herself remaining even as she stepped away, stumbling to leave the place but rooted in place still. The willow tree seemed to want to embrace her, pull her closer, consume her, and she almost wanted to let it.

But she couldn't. For half a moment, she didn't know why she didn't. She had no purpose, no direction, no reason to keep on going. So, why? Why? She didn't know.

A lot of things didn't make sense to her anymore, so she just chalked this up to be another case of that.

It felt wrong to leave this place without doing anything in it besides emptying herself and reducing herself to nothing. Felt wrong to leave such a blight on such a beautiful, horrible thing that didn't belong in the oak forest. It didn't belong, and neither did she and she supposed it made them kindred in a way and Flarepaw wondered if this was how she went insane- comparing herself to a tree.

She laughed. It was hollow for one breath and almost hysterical the next and full of amusement after that and overflowing with grief succeeding that one. The pieces and chips kept falling and she wondered if this is what it felt like to fall apart. It made her want to lie back down.

Stars, she was tired.

She was scared to remember and scared to forget- so perhaps to torture herself or maybe she did it to help herself- Flarepaw began digging. At first, it was going to be a hole for herself. To physically put herself as low as she felt. But her claws scraped the earth aside carefully, meticulously, making it as pretty as a hole in the ground could be, and then she moved stiffly to make another one identical to the last. She wondered why she would need two holes for herself (but it was only fitting, to make multiple holes to fit all of her broken pieces into them) but once she was finished, the raw wound dried up a bit and it didn't feel like she was constantly bleeding out.

She had made graves. And the silver moonlight- it was night now apparently and a small part of her wondered why nobody had come to find and stop her yet- displayed them as if shining a spotlight and they were center stage. One for Flamepaw. One for Willowflame. At the roots of the dead tree that didn't belong here, at the roots of the dead tree that symbolized hope and healing and safety.

(She wondered if, because it was dead, it also meant that hope and healing and safety were dead too. And she felt like asking Willowflame if that's how symbolism worked- and then she remembered that Willowflame was dead too so it didn't matter.)

It was insulting and it was a touching gesture, it made the wound fester and it made it close. Flarepaw smiled something sad- something happy- something broken- something whole.

It would be wrong to just leave it there and it would be wrong to fill it back up with nothing but dirt, so she had climbed the dead tree to shake off twigs and break branches. It was the most physical activity she had done in the weeks or months or few days that had passed and she was left winded by the time the holes were relatively filled. Her adrenaline and the surge of energy that surprised and frightened her urged her to move, and she only went as far as the edge of the clearing to pick at berries and drag vegetation and claw pieces of undergrowth to add some color to the branches as well.

Willowflame would appreciate the colors. Flamepaw would like the branches. (He was weird like that, spending what little free time he had resting in the trees of their old home like he was a Forestclanner.)

When the holes were filled and she had packed the dirt back in, patting it down, Flarepaw sat back to survey her work.

She hated it.

She loved it.

Her claws were caked with dirt and chunks of vegetation and she didn't bother cleaning them up. Her paws ached from her constant moving and her back hurt from the one time she fell from the branches and onto the ground.

Yeah. She hated it- She loved it.

If only for a moment, doing this made her feel… Well, feel. The emptiness had been nice, and she loathed thinking the grief would come back to fill her again, but at least for now, she was filled with a sense of accomplishment.

It was something. Something she didn't even know she needed.

She just hoped she would never have to bury anyone ever again.

"It's done."

Flarepaw blinked back to existence, to her surroundings, and was only partially surprised to find Feathersong patting the newly packed dirt of the grave they had been working on. The Queen had an expression on her face that was not quite sorrowful and not quite a frown either.

Dark blue eyes flicked up to her, curious and questioning.

"The Grand Royal will be here soon for the eulogy," Feathersong murmured quietly, and the rest of the Commoners moved to sit just below the newly made graves, hanging their heads and waiting patiently like they were made to do. The Queen tilted her head slightly, "You should get going before he arrives."

It was an out. It was an obvious out that Feathersong was giving her, and Flarepaw knew that if she took it, nobody would blame her. She had already done more than enough in their eyes- but to her, it wasn't enough. (A part of her wondered when it would be enough, if ever.)

(She supposed she was going to have to find out.)

"If it's all the same to you," Flarepaw murmured just as quietly, chancing a glance towards where Sagepaw was already sitting beside Adderpaw almost awkwardly. Her eyes found Feathersong's again and she gave a slight bow to her head, "I think I would like to stay."

The Commoner Queen gave a hum that reverberated within Flarepaw's bones. Feathersong gave that same not-smile smile again before nodding her head.

"Of course," Feathersong moved to join the others and Flarepaw followed, sitting on the outside of the line and bowing her head as well. Her tail rested in the space between them and she hesitantly moved to touch the tip against Feathersong's, sharing a sorrowful expression that Feathersong returned with an appreciative look.

Perhaps it would come to bite her in the throat later, but Flarepaw knew she made the right choice by staying.

She was going to start changing, start making actual efforts to prove that she was changing. If not for Sootpaw, then for herself. For the world.

And it all started with learning more about the Commoners and their customs, introducing herself into their lives.

"You're just like him!"

I'm not.

I'll prove it.

To you.

To myself.

And to the world.

So, please.

Give me the chance to prove myself to you.

The City

Phantom was being followed.

He knew he was the instant he left the sanctuary of his ruined garden at the beginning of dawn, he could feel the glow of eyes on his back as they tracked his movements from the shadows. He kept his eyes ahead of him, moving as inconspicuous as ever and a part of him wondered why he was doing that because, in truth, he hadn't done anything wrong. Hiring Umbra to bring Ghost back was not anything that would detriment King in any way, so he wasn't guilty of anything.

So, why did he feel so guilty?

The grey-tinted tom paused when he reached the outcropping of steel branches, a ruined building that was never completed and was just a skeleton of cold metal that sapped the warmth from him whenever he was on it. He liked it when it did that. The steel was the closest they would come to tree branches in the City, and Phantom liked it better because at least he knew what was hidden in the steel. (His time in that Forestclan place had left him scarred, monsters hidden behind every seemingly peaceful thing.)

At least here, everything was out in the open. And if it wasn't, Phantom had spent enough time in the shadows to know what was hiding.

"You know, you were never that great at stealth," his voice rang out, bouncing off the steel branches and moving through the air. He remained staring ahead with an aura of nonchalance, though his paws itched as his claws slowly slid out, prepared to attack should his stalker do the same.

But of course, Spirit was always afraid of him- despite how much she claimed she wasn't. She wasn't brave enough to harm him, because she knew he would hurt her back infinitely more.

Movement out of the corner of his eye made his head turn, Spirit's pale blue eyes glimmering with annoyance as a scowl pulled at her features. Phantom allowed a moment of gloating, the hint of a smirk to his features, before he held himself straighter, taller. His sister did as she was made to do in the presence of a superior, even if she didn't know she was doing it: she cowered. Made herself smaller, however slight, and lowered her gaze away from his. She was looking at his cheek instead of directly meeting his eyes like she was supposed to, and for that, Phantom allowed himself another moment of gloating.

He was greedy with those moments, they didn't seem to come as often as he liked anymore.

"Any reason you have for following me, dear sister?" He turned to better face her, not because he thought it respectful, but because she was unpredictable even for a runt. She normally wasn't brave enough to fight him, but what if tonight was different? For all intents and purposes, Spirit had been getting braver and braver ever since Ghost appeared (and now disappeared again). He was curious to see if she would go back to her meek self without their runaway brother.

Spirit remained silent, staring at him, and Phantom's ears twitched with the desire to fall flat because it almost felt like- for a moment, a heartbeat, a second- she was looking straight into him. Straight into the mess of his soul, full of paranoia and bitterness and the thirst for vengeance and redemption. His eyes narrowed at her.

She didn't deserve to look.

"I have spent all this time," Spirit spoke in a tone that was alarmingly not her own. He always knew his sister to be callous, with a sharp tongue and not a care for anyone's feelings but her own and not a trace of intelligence. Perhaps he had judged her too harshly. Pale blue eyes regarded him suspiciously, "All this time, trying to figure out your motives and yet… I still can't wrap my mind around it."

"My motives are my own," Phantom wrinkled his nose slightly, wondering where the weak runt was because it certainly wasn't who he was talking to at the moment. "They should not be your concern."

"I'm just curious is all," Spirit shrugged, a gleam appearing in her eyes that would have made a lesser cat cower. But Phantom was no lesser cat- he was only greater than her. "Your actions don't make sense to me regarding our brother. Why would you lie to father about what happened? Why would you face those punishments and his disownment of you? For what, Phantom. It'll drive me mad not knowing."

"Then go mad," Phantom curled his lips, baring his teeth and hissing through them. The snarl that threatened to escape rammed into the imprisonment of his mouth, nearly breaking fangs. "It won't be long anyway, you're more than halfway there already."

"For what, Phantom," Spirit bared her teeth right back, the fur bristling on her shoulders and tail lashing and Phantom knew he was not talking to his runt of a sister at the moment. When had she grown into this? This was not who he needed her to be- he left her alive because she was weak.

"It's of no importance to you! Leave it be, Spirit," Phantom lurched forward, hoping that his approach would scare her off, but she only seemed to grow more determined, becoming as unmoving as the steel branches as she stood in place. He towered over her, but it seemed to make no difference to her having to look up at him. He thought the height difference, of physically having to look down at her, would make him feel superior, but it wasn't. It wasn't working. "Leave it be."

"You told Umbra to go after him," Spirit scoffed, "You know they're only going to kill him."

"They won't," Phantom hissed back, "they vowed they won't. Only I am allowed to kill him."

"Only you?" Spirit raised a curious brow, a smirk pulling at her lips now. "I guess your obsession with him stems even to that."

"I am not obsessed with Ghost," Phantom growled indignantly, "I merely wish to finally fulfill my dream. And no one is going to get in the way of that."

"What if I called dibs instead?" Spirit was taunting him. He knew she was taunting him.

And he was falling for it. He couldn't exactly help himself though, Spirit may have been meek, but with her newfound bravery, she had almost instantly learned where to push all of his buttons at the same time.

"You aren't going to kill him!" He stepped closer, even though there was hardly any space between them already. "No one is allowed to kill him but me!"

"Temper, temper Phantom, so much stress isn't good for you."

"Enough!" He hissed and, in a moment of fury, raised his paw to strike at her. Spirit saw it coming though, and though she was always the weakest one, she had learned roughly the same skills he did. She blocked his strike, smacking his paw aside and then lunging her own claws directly for his neck.

So predictable she always was.

Her claws caught his shoulder as he barreled forward, teeth snapping and making contact with her neck, and Spirit snarled as she violently tore herself out of his grip. Always impatient that one. She reared back, spine arching and fur bristling and the growl that rumbled through her throat would have scared anybody else but Phantom, who regarded her cooly, waiting for her to strike first.

"It always hurts to see siblings fighting," a third voice rang out from somewhere above them, Spirit and Phantom freezing in place and blinking at each other in surprise. The grey-tinted tom arched his head back, squinting momentarily against the first rays of dawn, an ache deep in his skull urging him to find someplace to rest and close his eyes. Something like dread or something like annoyance washed over him and he bit back a groan as he met King's strangely colored eyes. His leader was lying on the steel branches as if they were actual tree branches, one paw hanging over the edge and swinging lightly in the air. Eyes of grey and green and amber stared down at the two, looking about as heartbroken as he claimed to be.

"Please, do stop."

"My King," Phantom immediately went into the submissive mode when in the presence of his leader, compliant and only willing to serve. He hated it- but it was an act he needed to do for every so-called King. The only one he ever wanted to serve was Father, but Father would have wanted him to serve all who came after him. At least the previous King was easier to deal with- he had been old and wise and someone Father would have liked. This King though… There were so many things wrong with him, and the only thing he had going for him was his winning charm and silver tongue. "Forgive us. We did not mean for you to see that."

Spirit looked like she wanted to say something, but a warning glance from Phantom made her roll her eyes and leave her fighting stance. He noted that her claws remained unsheathed, still ready for a fight should he give her one. And if he didn't, then she would go and find someone else to fight instead, make them if they didn't want to either.

"Siblings shouldn't fight," King murmured in that faraway voice of his, always seeming as though he was in a different place (or, at least wanting to be in a different place). "You never know when your next fight will be the last, and then when you lose them, all you will have is the memories of your argument."

"We aren't siblings of blood," Spirit grumbled beneath her breath, and Phantom remained silent, sparing a glance at her from the corner of his eye as he turned better to look up at King. Sentimental fool. Always remembering Soul, her actual sibling of so long ago. Perhaps that is what made her so weak.

King didn't seem to have heard her, or if he did, he chose to ignore it. His eyes trailed curiously between the two, back-and-forth, and Phantom wondered what the younger tom was seeing whenever he looked at them. Did he still feel like he didn't belong here? Or did he regard them as a family now too?

Where do your loyalties truly lie, clan-scum?

Phantom narrowed his eyes slightly, biting his tongue and hoping his thoughts weren't loud enough to be heard.

"This… Ghost, you speak of," King murmured and it immediately made Phantom bristle, not liking the thoughtful look in the tri-colored eyes. "Is he that much of a problem to brew trouble between the two of you?"

"He is not," Phantom said immediately, and he was already thinking of a million different ways to kill Spirit when she spoke up over him, "We're just debating on who has the right to kill him, my King. Phantom here is being selfish."

Dark golden eyes turned a fiery glare to provoking pale blue, Spirit rearing for a fight still and if she had any say in it, she was going to get it. He wanted to warn her not to bite off more than she could chew, not to fight a battle she couldn't win. (You know, like the good sibling he was.) He knew she wouldn't listen to him regardless. He kept his features emotionless, but his eyes were expressive as ever and Spirit smirked seeing the many different ways he was envisioning ending her life.

(Maybe they were all a little mad.)

"So, he is an issue then," King sighed heavily, rolling to the side and not caring as he fell off of one steel branch and onto a lower one. The weight of the impact made a clang echo throughout the area, the metal groaning in disagreement but always holding firm. The first rays of dawn sprinkling a golden light to his pelt, dark ginger fur illuminating for a moment. King spent so long in the darkness of the shadows, even Phantom was beginning to forget what he looked like, and this sight startled him for a moment.

King turned his attention away from them and to the ray of sunlight, weak and hardly doing anything to warm him up when pressed against the steel. A wistful, forlorn smile pulled at his lips and King scooted away until he was out of the ray. When his eyes turned back to them, Phantom prepared himself for the rest, and still, he wasn't ready for King's next words.

"In that case, I will kill him."

A heavy moment of nonmovement on everybody's part sucked the air from the world, Phantom and Spirit staring up at King- first in bafflement, then understanding once his words registered in their minds, and then into an all-consuming rage. If looks could kill, both Phantom and Spirit would be charged with treason for murdering King.

Their combined snarl shook the earth- Phantom liked to believe he was louder- and the steel echoed back the sounds with a symphony of anger unlike any other. Anybody within a radius would be scared off by such a terrifying orchestra, wanting to save their lives instead of looking to see what beast could possibly make such a sound.

King only stared at them, unaffected, but a frown now pulled at his lips that always formed a thin line or a sad smile. It was the most reaction they got out of him as he continued looking down at them.

Phantom hated having to tilt his head back, and he almost felt like climbing the steel branches just to get level with King. Spirit seemed to be having the same thoughts, her eyes already looking for the quickest trail up.

"My words have angered you both," King said, even though he didn't need to state the obvious. Phantom liked to think he said them just so he could speak because King didn't get to speak often.

"You have stepped over a line, King," Phantom curled his lips back, body shaking with the restraint not to race up to his leader- respect for his superior be damned. "I already said, no one is allowed to kill him but me."

"As if that's any better," Spirit hissed at him, turning her frustrations to him because he was closer to her than King, and for half a second, Phantom thought she was going to lunge at him then and there.

"Shut it!" He hissed back at her before turning his eyes back to King, who was no longer laying around lazily- his head lifted as he appeared more alert. His eyes were narrowed slightly, paw suspended in the air instead of swinging idly, and the fur along his tail was beginning to bush out.

"I merely wish to end the conflict between you two," King's lips formed a slight scowl, "if it's really this much of a problem, then I will deal with it."

"No!" Phantom got the sense that he was acting like an indignant kit, but this was not one thing he would let slide. "No one is allowed to kill him but me. Not even you, King. Especially not you. This is a conflict between me and my siblings, and you have no part in it."

King leaped down a few more of the steel branches, now much closer to them and the metal clanged wildly with his quick descent. He leaned over the edge dangerously, paws right at the edge as he craned his neck downward, looking like he was about to leap right to him and Phantom almost wanted him to. If King attacked him, then he would not stand by idly and let it happen. He would fight back.

"Careful with your words, my friend," King didn't hiss or snarl, but his voice rumbled like there was a growl forming in his throat more terrifying than theirs. Some sick part of Phantom wanted to hear it, to see what King was worth because right now and forever, King only had his honeyed words going for him. And that would only take him so far. "I do not take too kindly to them."

Phantom knew he should back down. King was giving him a warning, a chance to back down now before they crossed that line so far that they wouldn't be able to see it anymore. He knew he should be compliant. Father would want him to be.

But still…

Still.

King needed to understand that no one else but Phantom was allowed to kill his brother.

He needed King to know how serious he was.

So, he would dig his claws in deep, and watch his leader bleed. Dig deep, what would hurt King the most?

Ahh…

That's it.

That's where you will hurt the most.

"If you kill my brother, King," Phantom spoke through his bared teeth, eyes molten lava, "then I will be the one to dispose of your sister."

Once more, the world lost its air and the three of them forgot how to breathe. Tension made the world buzz with agitation, anxiety. The wind didn't blow and what little snow that had made its way to the streets and alleys became nervous. Phantom could see the emotions blaze in King's eyes- first of panic and then of unadulterated fury and protectiveness. And just as he predicted…

King leaped.

Phantom prepared himself to jump away, but King only aimed to land directly in front of him instead of on him. The grey-tinted tom was almost disappointed with that, but he continued to hold his breath and hold King's tri-colored gaze, refusing to flinch away. Spirit, surveying this, did take a step away, more curious with their tension than wanting to get in the middle of it. (But should Ghost be brought up again, she would still be there.)

King was shorter than him. Phantom already knew that- he was shorter and younger and less experienced. By all means, Phantom did not see King as a physical threat. They had yet to fight, and though Phantom had to admit his leader was quite skilled, he could not make any assumptions until they actually had their own bout.

Was it wrong to be disappointed that he wasn't scared?

"You will not touch her," King spoke in a dangerously quiet voice, words slow as to get his point across, and there was almost a crazed look in his eyes as he let out a creeping exhale. "You will not touch her Phantom, or so help me… Words cannot describe what I will do to you in return. Only I- Only I will be the one to kill if it comes to it. I will only allow her death by my paws. Not yours, or anyone else, so don't you dare."

"I will respect your wishes and your words," Phantom's voice sounded so loud to his ears, even though he spoke just as quietly as King. Adrenaline raced through his body and his heart pumped into overdrive. "If you respect mine."

King continued glaring at him, eyes heated and doing their damndest to melt Phantom in his place, and Phantom was doing the same, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. No, he will not let this one go. King could do a lot of things that Phantom didn't particularly agree with- like letting Mothers learn to heal and hunt and giving them a sense of independence- but at least those, he could handle.

But not this one.

Not when it came to Ghost.

Drastic measures called for drastic actions, and if King pushed him, then Phantom will go as far as he could with it.

Perhaps King had been looking for the dedication or determination or something else in his eyes, but whatever it was, Phantom didn't know if King found it before he was taking a step back, creating a distance between the two. His leader's exhale crystallized in the air, flowing lazily upward, before he let out a slight growl and turned away.

"Whatever happens will happen, Phantom, Spirit," King said as he continued walking, speaking over his shoulder. "The chips will fall where they are intended to fall. Let us hope it does not come to the worst possible outcome… but if it does…"

If it does, Phantom understood, then we know what will happen.

King will kill Ghost, and I will kill his sister. And then we will kill each other.

"Good day to you both," were King's last words as he wandered away, movements stiff and tail lashing, and Phantom was almost curious enough to see what an agitated King acted like.

He remained in place, the pounding in his head making his eyes close and the tension of the conversation bled away and left him exhausted. He really needed to sleep.

"This isn't over, Phantom," Spirit said, and Phantom almost forgot that she was there in the first place.

Still so weak, still so worthless.

Inconsequential…

Phantom didn't know why he ever thought Spirit could be a threat.

"I do believe it is," he said in return before standing up, ignoring her threatening growl and warning glare as he turned a random corner and disappeared too. He would wander until his paws could not move anymore, mind racing and restless, and sleep would come to him only when he would no longer be able to resist it.

Until then…

Phantom walked.

And waited.

Plotting and curios and wishing time could fast forward to see where the chips fell.

Let us see what destiny has in store for us.

I am dying to find out.

A/N: Whoop! That was fun. Well, not fun, it still hurt, but the part with King and Phantom and Spirit was fun to write. Flarekitty is trying her best y'all, let's just hope it doesn't come to bite her later. My little cousins from Texas are back here because their family is having money issues, and they're also doing online school cause of quarantine, don't know how long they will be here, so let's hope that it doesn't affect my writing schedule (sometimes they have to use my laptop). Also, my 21st birthday is next Monday (the 16th)- which means I will be changing my username again soon, hooray!

Until next time!

Question of the Day

(Question from my little cousin)

What was the happiest day of your life, and what happened to make it the happiest day of your life?

Please review, favorite, and/or follow!

Let me know what you think of the story and give constructive criticism where you see fit.

If you have fanart of any kind, check out my profile for more details!

Thank you and peace out!

~Wolfcreations20