Welcome back!

A huge thank you to Sootfire, RavenblazeOC, Hissing Mist, Firestream of Ice, and Fastbreeze37 for reviewing the first part! I really appreciate all of the support, and hope you enjoy the second part :)

Here's part 2!

RED AND THE ALPHA: PART TWO

Despite her love for and familiarity with the forest, she found herself hopelessly lost amidst the trees.

•

Cloudtail is the first to object, rising to his knees to give Swiftpaw a glare that, if Brightpaw was going to read into it, is a rather sweet gesture on his part. It's an awful thought, one that Brightpaw feels a little guilty for having at all: that Cloudtail's vocal reaction is a sign that he really would care if she were to go out with Swiftpaw.

"You can't make her date you," he sputters loudly, and Brightpaw sees Frostfur and Brindleface exchange another glance. Like they knew this would happen.

No one else seems to be half as miffed as Cloudtail is, though, which makes Brightpaw's heart swell and flutter in the same way it did when he told her yesterday that he liked the way her hair was braided—the style that she chooses to wear again today. In fact, Cinderpelt and Sandstorm are cheering emphatically for Swiftpaw, and Fernpaw's excitement glimmers in her eyes, as if she intends to live vicariously through Brightpaw, which she no doubt will.

Bluestar addresses Cloudtail directly in an attempt to smooth things over. "Relax, Cloudtail, it's just one date. He's not asking her to marry him."

"Right! Brightpaw can make her own decisions," Sandstorm affirms, and the confidence with which she meets Brightpaw's nervous gaze is infectious to the point that Brightpaw almost believes her. She could make her own decisions, maybe, but she would very much like the support of as many people as possible.

She's almost certain that even if she does refuse, Swiftpaw won't hold it against her. In fact, she can imagine him shrugging indifferently and resuming his polite, platonic distance as if nothing ever happened. No, she's not worried about Swiftpaw at all, contrary to what everyone seems to believe.

It's Cloudtail's face that she seeks out as she scans the circle of friends around the campfire. He looks visibly upset that Swiftpaw's supporters outnumber him so significantly, and a part of Brightpaw wants to comfort her platinum-haired companion by telling him that she still values his opinion, perhaps more than anyone else's. There's a hazy shadow in his blue eyes when they meet hers, but she isn't sure if it's a trick of the firelight or an actual sense of woe enveloping him.

Still, she knows better than to hope for the first.

Swiftpaw drops his outstretched hand when Brightpaw stands up on her own after several pats on the shoulder from Cinderpelt and encouraging murmurs from Fernpaw. But he doesn't display a single flicker of hurt, and Brightpaw discovers that's his respectful collectedness is what she likes so much about him. "I don't want you to feel pressured, Brightpaw," he says. "Don't—"

Someone's resentful snort interrupts the rest of what Swiftpaw says, or maybe he does finish it and Brightpaw just misses it, but either way, she is surprised and a little irritated to find that the source was Cloudtail, whose powerful arms are crossed mutinously over his chest. Instinctively, she frowns at him for his unmasked derision, not realizing that the gesture had tugged her lips down until she catches Cloudtail's dismayed appearance.

"As I was saying," Swiftpaw says pointedly, also focusing on a now-abashed Cloudtail as everyone else quiets down to listen, "I don't want you to feel like you have to say yes. If—"

"Yeah, but if she says no, she gets a cupful!" Graystripe whoops, receiving several glares from not just Swiftpaw, but many of the others seated around the fire. "Sorry, sorry. Continue."

Brightpaw does feel a little sympathetic for the lanky, embarrassed boy before her. But he brushes it off, probably because it's Graystripe, and turns back to her. "And no, you don't have to drink it, either. I was going to say that if you want, I can take back my dare... or something like that." Swiftpaw scratches his head, looking even more awkward than before.

Her first reaction would have been to jump to Swiftpaw's defense, reassuring her uncomfortable friend that no, the request wasn't too outrageous or anything like that, but Brightpaw's eyes latch onto Cloudtail once again. She just can't seem to rip herself away from him, and her chest tightens when he looks away from her and settles back down into a cross-legged position, staring at his shoes.

But she's also annoyed, sort of, as much as she can possibly be with the person she like-likes. Just because Cloudtail isn't... ecstatic... it doesn't mean he can shut Swiftpaw down like that.

Brightpaw is glad to see that, based on the muted discussions still going on, most people agree with that thought, and that Cloudtail really is the only one who's so strongly against Swiftpaw's dare. It doesn't make her decision too much easier, because isn't it sweet that he's looking out for her? Sort of like... as more than a friend?

But she doesn't need protecting, really, and especially if she and Cloudtail aren't technically dating. And she can always justify her decision later, or so she hopes.

"Swiftpaw," she says, and the pregnant whispers screech to an stop. "If it's just one date, then yes, I will go out with you."

The crackling hush explodes into applause, but Brightpaw doesn't hear any of it. The first thing she sees after the words leave her mouth—even before she catches the delighted flame in Swiftpaw's eyes—is the crestfallen strain of Cloudtail's visage, as if he's not just upset, but disappointed.

But she doesn't regret her decision, not even when Cloudtail's lips part slightly in that familiar shape she recognizes from whenever he's shocked or hurting. It might be a combination of both. At least, the twisted, vicious fragment at the bottom of Brightpaw's heart hopes that it isn't just the first, because she so badly wants Cloudtail to care for more reasons than just the fact that his protests were overruled so drastically.

Swiftpaw lets out a startled, breathy chuckle that Brightpaw has never heard him emit before. "Thank you. Are you ready to go?"

"What, now?"

That laugh again. It's as if Brightpaw's agreement has bolstered his ability to convey emotion, and she wonders if it's all right to go out with him when her heart is elsewhere. Most of all, she hopes she isn't completely betraying Cloudtail... but they aren't even together, right?

"I thought you might like the starlight," he says, and Brightpaw looks up to find that he's right. The sky is practically cloudless, and since it's a crescent moon, the silhouetted scenery would be like something straight out of a National Geographic magazine.

Suddenly, Cloudtail is behind Swiftpaw. "Are you serious? You can't go out when it's this dark!"

This time, a few people seem to be in agreement with him, and Brightpaw is on the fence. On the one hand, she knows Cloudtail is right; this isn't the neighborhood back home anymore, and the forest could be difficult to navigate at night. But on the other... well, she sort of wants to make this date perfect for Swiftpaw by letting him set his favorite scene, so that even if they don't go out on a second, he's happy enough with the first to not take it too roughly. It's her way of apologizing in advance.

Plus, the image Swiftpaw has painted into her mind is gorgeous, and Brightpaw has never been able to resist an opportunity to witness the beauty of nature in all odd times and places.

"We won't be too long," Brightpaw replies mildly, and when Cloudtail huffs, she senses that familiar flicker of exasperation. She realizes that maybe it's not his defensive opposition that's the problem, but the fact that he can be so defensive at all without ever having asked her out himself.

Fireheart shakes his head. "I don't think it's a good idea, Brightpaw."

He receives a nudge from Sandstorm at that, who clearly disagrees. "Come on, Fireheart! We can even wait up for them if you'd like."

Then they are all talking again, and Brightpaw, still a little overwhelmed by the sheer velocity of things, looks to Swiftpaw for help. After all, she already knows where Cloudtail stands, and it is for Swiftpaw that she needs this date to go well.

"We can stay in one place, too," Swiftpaw says, "so that you know where we'll be if you come looking. Maybe the cliffs?"

He faces Brightpaw, now, asking her more than anyone else, and she agrees without a second thought, wondering if Swiftpaw has somehow read her mind. The cliffs are the best part of being at this campsite specifically; Brightpaw can't think of a time where she has ever observed a better view, and she can only dream about how fantastic it must be in the middle of the night.

That seems to satisfy a couple of them, so Brightpaw flashes a quick glance at the downcast Cloudtail and chimes in, "We'll even call you when we get there."

She pulls out her phone and waves it around, and most of the objections begin to dwindle. Everyone is looking at Cloudtail, now, and Brightpaw feels a twinge of remorse for inadvertently pushing all of the attention on his disagreement alone. But under the heat of everyone's expectant stares, Cloudtail holds Brightpaw's eyes for a long moment before muttering, "Fine."

Brightpaw lifts up Cloudtail's blanket, which has slipped from her shoulders at this point, and wonders whether it would be inappropriate to bring it with her on a date with Swiftpaw. But when she peeks sidelong at Swiftpaw, he already looks happier than she has ever seen him in all the years that she has known him, and she thinks that the blanket shouldn't matter. After all, Cloudtail says the color looks good on her, and she wants to look nice for a date, right?

She's glad she only gave Swiftpaw a conditional acceptance, though, because she knows she cannot lead him on indefinitely. And it was a dare, anyway—there's no guarantee that he actually likes her.

Cinderpelt flashes her a thumbs-up sign, and Brightpaw nods this time when Swiftpaw asks again if she's ready. She wants to stay with Cloudtail a little longer, but maybe another time, because she's actually a little bit excited now. Swiftpaw is a friend, even if she doesn't feel anything more for him, so Brightpaw expects this date to be fun and lighthearted.

As she follows Swiftpaw away from the campfire and her applauding friends, Brightpaw pulls the crimson blanket tighter around her and waves at everyone but Cloudtail.

•

The shadowy branches meander and twist into knotted black tangles against the violet sky overhead as they make their way through the trees, conversing in friendly but hushed tones amid the peaceful native rustles of the forest. It's around a twenty-minute trek to the cliffs-point, along a path through the woods by the stream that is barely visible in the darkness, but Brightpaw knows that it will be worth it, since the magnificent vista there has never disappointed her before.

Swiftpaw volunteers to use his phone as a flashlight, since he has more battery left than Brightpaw, who used up quite a bit looking at red-themed Pinterest boards—thanks to Cloudtail, of course—after Whitestorm set up a hotspot, and the white light is a little eerie and harsh in the soft tones of the undergrowth.

Still, Brightpaw isn't too sure about using a flashlight at all, since it might attract unwanted attention, but Swiftpaw reassures her that the beam is so small that it won't be visible from too far away, and that it's just to make sure that neither of them trips over anything. She believes him, too, because it would probably be more dangerous to walk around blind in the forest at nighttime.

They make small conversation, for the most part, talking about the campgrounds, Graystripe's ridiculous dare, the life back home that they'll have to return to in a few days. Swiftpaw tells her that he likes the way she has done her hair, but the compliment doesn't ignite the same joyful spark in her that Cloudtail did. Still, she tells him the story of how she came about the white streaks in her ginger hair, but stops self-consciously when she notices the look Swiftpaw is giving her and wonders whether she talks too much about Cloudtail.

But Swiftpaw only laughs, shining the phone-flashlight in her general direction—though not straight at her eyes, obviously—and asks her to finish the story, which she obliges a little more vigilantly than before, leaving out Cloudtail's reaction on Halloween itself and opting to tell him only about how her best friends Fernpaw and Thornpaw responded.

"Brightpaw," he says, so solemnly that Brightpaw blinks out of the fond memory and turns to her friend. "I know you don't like me in that way."

Her heart races as she tries to figure out what gave it away. Did something change in her voice when she told him about Cloudtail? Or has he known all along? Or, maybe, was it something else in the way she behaves around him that was purely platonic?

The breath rushes out of her when she stumbles on a dip in the ground, her mind galloping too quickly for her to pay attention to her surroundings, apparently, and she hardly notices when Swiftpaw calls out and grabs her elbow to steady her. From the way the phone's light bounces off his pale amber eyes, he's torn between amusement and concern.

"Relax," he says, letting go of her arm when she starts walking normally again. "I'm not mad or anything, don't worry."

"How did you know?" she asks shakily.

Swiftpaw's footsteps sound milliseconds after Brightpaw's, almost like an echo. "I figured it out when we were about to leave. I mean, I always had a hunch, but I used that dare to make sure."

She isn't sure whether to feel guilty that she agreed to the date anyway, or relieved that Swiftpaw doesn't intend on holding it against her. But when she looks up at Swiftpaw, she finds nothing but the comfort of his respectful affection—the kind that can only develop after years of being lab partners and study buddies.

"I'm sorry," she says, but she already knows that Swiftpaw has forgiven her. "I—"

He swears, suddenly, and the flashlight flickers off. Brightpaw halts, confused, and squints into the darkness where she can vaguely make out Swiftpaw's lean frame.

"My phone died," he explains, sounding embarrassed, and she twines her eyebrows together.

"Already? Didn't you have, like, fifty-something percent?"

Swiftpaw makes a noise that sounds like a sigh. "Yeah, but my phone is really old, so the flashlight drained it pretty quickly. But I mean, you have forty-something, so maybe we should save that for the call and, um, not use a flashlight? I think we're nearly there, anyway."

Brightpaw nods, before remembering that he can't see her. "Okay."

She nearly slips on something again, but miraculously manages to sidestep whatever it is. The ground turns softer beneath her feet, and Brightpaw struggles to adjust to the light, only able to distinguish the path from the woodland based on the texture under her shoes. Which isn't much.

"I just, I wish it was different," she explains to Swiftpaw. "This... date... was supposed to be me making it up to you, kind of, if that makes sense?"

Swiftpaw is silent, and Brightpaw wonders how things went so awry so quickly. At least he's nice enough to remain amiable, a thought which warms her up and freezes her at the same time, because she cherishes Swiftpaw but feels worse for having to let down such a sweet friend.

"So," she asks him, fidgeting with the soft wool of the blanket, "how did you figure it out?"

There's no answer, and Brightpaw suddenly finds that she can't hear Swiftpaw's footsteps beside her own anymore.

The shock of that conclusion has her running and calling out Swiftpaw's name, only to collide with a tree trunk that seems to have sprung up magically in front of her path before falling to her knees, her cheek smarting from the impact and the wind swept from her lungs. She doesn't have to see to know that her palms and pants are dirty from the sticky mud she's landed in, and silently condemns herself for worrying about the fate of Cloudtail's blanket in a situation like this.

Brightpaw falls into silence when Swiftpaw doesn't answer again, but moments later, she hears something like footsteps growing closer and closer.

"Thank goodness!" she exclaims when someone steps in front of her, and pushes herself into a kneeling position to greet Swiftpaw. "I can't see anything out here! We should keep checking to make sure that we're together so that doesn't happen again."

But he must have shrunk, or something, and there's something different about his expression, because she's suddenly face-to-face with large, gleaming, dark orbs.

Not Swiftpaw.

"My," she ventures breathily, scrambling backwards from whoever or whatever it is, "what big eyes you have!"

What are your thoughts on Swiftpaw? I wasn't really sure of what his personality was really like from the canon story, so I kind of just played around a bit with his character and didn't want to make him all bad...

As usual, please feel free to leave suggestions for what you'd like to see as future retellings! I'd love to incorporate as many ideas as I can.

And please, review! Hope you enjoyed :)