It was sunset when I clocked out and headed for camp, the forest teeming and alive in muddy orange-brown. I dug my teeth into the rabbit's scruff and dragged, careful not to let the juice escape.

I made a beeline for the elder's den as soon as I passed through between Mossjumble and Snakeshriek; the two cats on guard duty tonight. Mossjumble looked down at his paws when I brushed past him. Snakeshriek's ears twitched slightly, but no further. Neither of them said a word to me.

I stashed the rabbit into a bush and walked in. Twilight spilled into the den where Losttrail lay, drowsing. Someone else was puttering around him as if waiting for him to wake. A bundle of herbs sat in the corner, expectant. I lingered in my place for a moment, wondering whether I should alert myself, when the cat stopped pacing around and looked up, letting out a small yelp.

"Oh," I said. "Hi. Didn't, uh, expect to see you here."

Wrensong licked his chest fur, which already looked as though it had been licked five times. He rubbed his paw self-consciously. "Lostrail needs his daily herbs."

Lynxspots had usually been the one to do that task. "Good for you to help him."

"Yeah." Wrensong said. He looked like he wanted to bolt. Relatable. "So, um, night off?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay, well," He cleared his throat. "Losttrail knows what herbs to have. I'm going back to bed."

"I'll make sure he gets them right. Wanted to talk to him, anyway. Comfrey root, for his joints, and chamomile, to soothe his mind. Right?" I looked at him for confirmation.

"Yeah. Chew the comfrey into a poultice. Calendine too, for his eyes. Won't help much, but it'll do him comfort."

"Well, look at you, junior medicine cat!"

He didn't say anything, just stood up and made to walk out.

"Thanks." I called after him. "Y'know. For helping me find Hollowheart's killer."

His shoulders scrunched up to his ears, as if nothing could shame him more than being thanked for an act of kindness.

"Please," He grunted as he ducked out the den, and for a moment, I thought I could see something akin to regret on his face. "Don't mention it."

I looked at Losttrail's sleeping form, feeling obliged to wake him up.

But then I decided to wait.

…

The first thing Losttrail did when he woke up was to hook his claws into my scruff and speak foul to me.

"Why did you let her steal my rabbit?" He hissed. "She took my rabbit!"

I slipped up and retrieved the rabbit I'd gotten from Milkwhisker. So much for sharing it with Friskfields.

I came up to him, the rabbit in my jaw. He glared at me. "Don't you dare touch me. I'll clock you one!"

"Yeah, for sure. Here's your rabbit."

As Losttrail gobbled the rabbit up, I placed the comfrey on bark and grinded it with a stone, all the while keeping an eye on him to make sure he wouldn't choke. I was almost done with the comfrey when Losttrail lifted his head from the food and said, "Where's my mom? We should share." He looked around. "Mom, come here!"

"Are you, ur, looking for your mother?"

Instead of answering, Losttrail stuck out his head from the den and called for the long-deceased. "Mom? Mom, where – whoa, that's a wide load! Lay off the mice, sweetheart!"

"Stop it!" I whispered ferociously. "Just… will you…. talk about your mother with me? I bet you miss her. What was she like?"

Losttrail chuckled. "Oh, she was wonderful. I was always…. well, let's say…. imaginative. She was the only cat who encouraged the way I was. Better to live in the back of your head than to act on what's in it, she'd say."

That did not sound good. "Yeah? You liked spending time with her?"

"Of course I did! Although she didn't like me spending time with others. She'd drag me away whenever I tried to talk with someone. Telling them sorry. I didn't mind. Spent most of my time in my head, anyway. I eventually did get my chance, though." He wrinkled his nose. "Mind you, it was not what I expected."

"What do you mean?"

"I found a chance to talk to him when Goldensplash was off on patrol. I sneaked away. He didn't look good when I saw him. I wanted to fix him. But then…" His face contorted. "Hollowheart was standing over him. I got scared. I ran away."

"Losttrail," I asked softly. "Who's 'he'?"

"I tried to get rid of him." Losttrail said. He rubbed at his sightless eyes. "And I got rid of him. I couldn't see him anymore. I couldn't see anyone anymore, not even Goldensplash. I never got to see her again until she died. I miss her. But sometimes, in the back of my head…. I can see his face. Just his. He screams at me. He shouts for help. I know he's not real, I know I did get rid of him, but…" The rubbing was getting more and more intense. "I was always imaginative."

"Oh, Losttrail."

"I wanted to get him to stop screaming at me." He said. "I knew I had to do something. I had to tell the others the truth. I had to tell them that…"

My brother doused a flame.

"Losttrail," I said, putting a tail around his shoulders. The rubbing stopped. "That's why I'm here. That's what I want to thank you for."

He took his paws off his face and looked at me. "You… you want to thank me?"

I nodded. "Yes. I assume Hollowheart will want to thank you, too."

Confusion clouded his face. "Hollowheart?"

"It's a long story." I said. "Ya wanna hear?"

He looked reluctant, but nodded slowly.

I would tell them all.

One cat at a time.

…

"Lilacpond?" Featherdrift called out cheerfully. "Stormcloud's here. He wants to see you."

"Hello, son." Lilacpond gazed at me steadily, the faintest of smiles flickering across his face.

"Yeah. Uh, hi."

"Have you seen lil' breezie today? Did you see how good he's looking?" Lilacpond purred. "When you see him, tell him he's looking good."

"I will." I glanced at her gaunt features. "Would you like me to bring you a mouse, Lilacpond?"

"Ah. Yes. My son, ThunderClan's pushover. I wondered how long it would be before you made me your slave-driver. No. No, thank you."

"Squirrel, then?"

"I'm fine without, dear son."

"Call me Stormcloud."

"Will it make you feel better?"

I blinked, my mouth opening briefly. I closed it. Hollowheart always said it made me look more stupid than I actually was. "Uh, I guess? So would you like to go for a stroll tomorrow? I know you're worried about Breezehowl and all, but you look like you need some fresh air." I stopped. There was something about her face that made me falter. She was staring straight ahead, a tic moving in her jaw. "… If you don't want to leave him, that's fine. What do you normally do?"

"I don't do anything, Stormcloud. I can't do anything for him anymore. I sit next to him. I talk to him. And I wait with him for all of it to be over."

"Well, I figure a bit of fresh air and sunshine would do you good."

"Are you telling me I should leave him alone here?"

"I just thought –"

"You think a little stroll would be good for me? A breath of fresh air?"

"I'm just trying to –"

"He is my son. I am not leaving him for you."

I took a deep breath, trying to make my voice sound confident. "Okay… well… seeing as I am also your son, I thought I'd spend some time in your company and cheer you up. That's all."

The silence was painful. The moment seemed to open up beneath my paws, my voice already swallowed into its endless depths. And yet I went on, like I always did when I was with Lilacpond. I just couldn't give up. "Perhaps you'd like to talk about things. A little of what you want to do, what you like, then I can… make sure things are as you like them?"

Finally she turned around to look at me. Brow furrowed, eyes vivid and angry. "I just don't see what Hollowheart saw in you."

I scrambled to figure out how I'd screwed this up so fast.

"When I think of being mates with him, all I remember is how long it took for it to be over." Lilacpond continued. "He cheated on me. He never got around to Breezehowl. And I tried to understand. We had a kit's relationship. But when I thought of how he favored you…" She gritted her teeth. "Sometimes I just wished that he were… he were…"

Suddenly coughing sobs were heard from the den behind us. Featherdrift guided me away, leaving Breezehowl coughing and sobbing in my wake, and Lilacpond not going inside to comfort him, but dropping to the ground, wailing and whingeing to StarClan for mercy, and for the end of not her son's, but her suffering.

Once we were a safe distance away, Featherdrift said, "I do hope he pulls through."

"Me, too." I said, and saw how she was looking at me. "Hey, I'm not heartless. He's my brother."

"I know. You're not the one without a heart." She said softly. "I am."

I blinked in surprise as she wrapped her tail around me, all floofy and cozy as it had been when she'd done so for kit me, who had been lonely and desperate and in need of a mother, and there had been Featherdrift, who'd so casually given me her love, who'd been there for me before I'd become friends with Friskfields, before Hollowheart had warmed up to me. She'd been there for me in the very beginning, and now, she was here again.

"I'm sorry." Featherdrift whispered. "It turns out, I wasn't any different than Lilacpond. I left you alone because I was afraid of what would happen to Friskfields, to his future, to his place in the clan, if I didn't. I thought I was being a good mother." She pulled her tail back to look at me. "I was so blind, I forgot that Friskfields and Frostheart wasn't the only ones I was a mother to." She shook her head. "Should have been a mother to."

"Featherdrift," I said. "You were the most wonderful mum that I ever had in my life."

"Perhaps," She said, smiling through her tears. "But I didn't have much competition, did I?"

We hugged, and for the first time in a long time, I prayed to StarClan. I prayed for Breezehowl to gain his health once more, for Lilacpond to rise above her past and to become her own cat, hopefully, a better cat, for Milkwhisker to be have the happy family life that she had always wanted, for Copperclaw to see, if not forgiveness, the truth in my apologies, for Wrensong to realize that regret was of no avail, but it was a start, for Losttrail to live out the rest of his moons happy and unbothered, for Featherdrift to remember that Stormkit had loved her, and Stormcloud would get to it.

He was taking his step.

…

I could see him in profile, sitting on a branch above me, chin tilted up to the half-light of dusk, humming under his breath to let a comfortable lull swell the whole foxlength between him and I. A sombre thoughtfulness veiled his features.

And to think that all this started with a simple question.

"Ever climb a tree before?" Friskfields had asked.

"Of course I have." I had answered. "You've even seen me in action."

"I mean, have you ever done it for fun?"

"Ur, no? I usually do it to hunt. Or 'cause Frostheart wants herbs, or berries, and I'm a lightweight and a easy scapegoat."

He looked at me for a heartbeat too long, before suddenly slapping me on the back of my head, and making for the nearest oak tree. "Gotcha! You're the hunter! Catch me if you can!"

Now, sitting on the branch below Friskfields, I looked up to see his face, and couldn't help but wonder how he was really feeling as his eyes gazed up at the sky. Normally he made his mood obvious by showboating and just goofing off. Right now though, he just stayed quiet as he looked on forward.

I tapped lightly on his dangling tail. "Hey, ya git."

Friskfields yelped, flailed sideways, and I almost expected him to fall bang to the ground arse over tip. Instead, his tail swatted me straight in the face.

"Agh, what the heck, Friskfields?" I yelled, unhooking my claws from the branch to clutch at my face.

"Don't scare me like that!" He yelled back, pulling himself upright.

I pulled a paw off my face. No blood. What an auspicious start. "I'm sorry I scared you. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to tell you how nice…. all of this is."

The tree was shaken with a sudden jolt from Friskfields as he excitedly asked, "Really?" but he quickly settled down to his peaceful form. "I mean – Yes, it is. And I'm sorry too, for hurting you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." I told him. My eyes were watering, but it didn't really hurt much. It was more of a glancing, half-asleep blow than the riot warrior smack I knew Friskfields was capable of. That was because I'd seen him slap his tail on Losttrail's pelt and actually jump-scare a dozen fleas out. "I dunno, I guess I'm just not used to seeing you like, this chill."

"What are you talking about? I'm always as chill as every leaf-fall breeeeeze." Friskfields said, dragging the last word out as though mimicking the moan of the wind.

I smiled. "Don't get me wrong, I'm all for being chill and all. I guess I just had something different in mind for our…"

"Our date?"

"N-no! It's not… definitely not…" I trailed off, feeling like someone was decking out the insides of my body with cherry blossom and canola flowers. Flowers, for StarClan's sake. How absolutely mortifying.

"What about we call it a sleepover, then? Pretty fitting, considering that I've got everything I'd dream about right here."

"You are corny as heck."

He only bashfully looked at me for a moment before thrusting his head into his chest. "Eh. Gotta keep you on your toes, y'know?"

"Unfortunately, we aren't having a sleepover. We're just gonna sit and talk." I said. My face felt hot and red, and not because it had been recently swatted on. "Like normal cats."

"We are normal cats." Friskfields said. "Well, I am. You're a normal cat under un-normal circumstances."

"I'm just gonna assume that you meant abnormal."

"You and your big, beautiful brain."

And there it went again, these flowers growing and gathering in my body, desperate and cloying. It was gross. It was new. I wanted to figure out just how the heck it had gotten there and also never think about it for the rest of my idiot life.

"Truth be told, Stormcloud," Friskfields begun, his voice slow and hesitant. "I went out of my way to be like…. this, because I didn't want to do anything to embarrass you. I wanted our date, sleepover, whatever you want to call it – to be perfect."

I sat up to stare at him. What?

"Well, yeah. I know that sometimes my frolicking aren't really your kind of thing." He continued. It seemed like he was trying to sound more pragmatic than emotional. "If that kind of stuff makes you uncomfortable, I'll keep them down."

"You… you really think that?"

He lowered his head to meet my eyes with a warm, loving smile and said, as if to make me feel less guilty, "I think it's worth trading all my tricks and gags if I can share this wonderful view with you."

For a goober, he sure knew how to say just the right things. His answer made me feel all warm and fuzzy at first, like Featherdrift's embrace had been.

But then the warmth cooled down.

I was making the cat I cared about most feel like he couldn't even be himself when beside me.

After that, we did what we've always done: we talked. But now, I couldn't bring myself to enjoy it as I normally would. Friskfields told me about how his mom had led the RiverClan deputy on for two moons so she could pry out the secrets of catching the leader's eye and advancing rank. I told him about my apprenticehood, only the happy parts, as he seemed eager to find out what he'd missed on. I tried to hover on the edge of the moment and tried to imagine what we'd look like, talking to each other from above and below, the forest burning in dusk over our shoulders, the glittering skyline stretching over the treetops and slowly lowering the sun from its hold. A beautiful scene to imagine, perhaps, but our sinews remained taut throughout it all.

After I finished my apprentice anecdotes, I asked, "What were you like?"

"What?"

"You've heard enough about me." I said. "I want to hear more about little Friskpaw."

"Oh," Friskfields said, chuckling slightly. "He was a lot."

I grinned. "Was he prone to get tweaked or cuffed by the ear for a prank? Which just so happened to be pastime for him?"

"Everyday."

"Was he casual friends with anyone with a pulse? Even with those across clans? Even without trying?"

"Oh, believe me when I say I tried. A lot."

"Did he oftentimes recite the entire warrior code for attention when in a crowd?"

"Yeah – although Featherdrift's the one who made me memorize the code from top to bottom." He mimicked her voice. "So you can fall back on the 'It's a clan rule' all you like, dear."

I laughed and shook my head. "I bet you were an adorable freak."

"I was a freak." Friskfields said. "When Frostheart chose to train as a medicine cat apprentice, Featherdrift was so disappointed that she didn't speak to him for moons. She wanted us to be warriors. She thought that being able to take care of yourself would protect you from scorn, from belittlement. She wanted to make something out of herself, and when that didn't work out…. when the RiverClan deputy caught on…. it was either me, or Frostheart. She's loosened up now, and I've always loved her, but I can't forget how she started to treat me like I was something…. sacred, once Frostheart was out of her range. Like I was some hilarious, interesting kid genius. That's how I came to spend the most of my life delusively confident in myself and my future." He looked at me. "Remember how you told me that I could always ask for help when I need it?"

"I do." I said. "And I meant that."

"Of course, of course you did!" He said, voice cracking. "But for a heartbeat, just for a single heartbeat, I thought: Is this really necessary, when I'm the one who's always helping him? Am I the kind of cat who needs help from others, if not the other way around?" He let out his breath. "I know I've always told you that you need to stand up for yourself, but that was before I realized that I've no idea what you're up against, because I wasn't around for the most of your life, and that I'm a privileged cat who lived his life around a faux. That was before I grew scared to have you around me."

"Wait, what?" I nearly fell off the tree. "Friskfields, I don't, I-"

"I'm starting to think." He said. "I'm starting to think that our clan, these clanmates of ours, my mother, me…. and this world that I live in, may hurt you, make you all scratches. And when I think about it…. never have I been so damn scared to have someone beside me, knowing what I might say or do to him, whether of intention or not. When I think about it…. I almost feel okay with keeping things…" He chewed on his bottom lip. "As they are. As they're supposed to be."

He made a helpless gesture, and it looked so broken in, like he'd been living with it for moons. And his paws were shaking. He was nervous. I was making him nervous.

What should I do?

Do as Friskfields would do. Make him happy.

Just try.

I tapped on his tail again. When he lowered his head to look at me, I rose to my full, albeit still short-statured height of one pawstep and two mouselengths and reeled him in by the back of his neck, right between the two branches, and bunted my head on the crown of his.

It was tentative, it was gentle. I could feel the loose presence of his mouth just a little away from mine, could feel him draw back his breath, could feel him like lightning in my veins. I opened my eyes and saw him staring back. Then I blinked, long and hard, despite the fact that what I was doing was already sinking into my brain, rearranging itself, and might call for regret. I blinked, and Friskfields blinked with me.

"I'm not okay with keeping things as they are." I told him. "I like you. No, I love you, complete with all your tricks and gags, and I mean it when I say I wouldn't trade them for the world, never mind this mingy view. I've never loved anyone this much before. You make me feel good. You make me like me. And I wish…. I wish I could make you feel as good as you make me feel. Would you let me try? Try, even if it might take moons for me to get it right?"

"Wait, hold it. You're saying you want us to be, like, a thing? Like a real, actual –" Something awestruck and distant lit his face. "Oh."

"I know, right?" I said softly.

"Look, I – this isn't fair." Friskfields said, and the sun illuminated the blush on his nose. "You're telling me after I put every move I know on you for moons that I… I wasn't alone in this? After I spent moons trying to figure you out, feeling things I didn't even know I could feel, and going out of my damn mind?"

"Stop being so cute and just say you like me!"

"I love you, ya git!"

I grinned. "We're both hopeless at this, aren't we?"

"Hopeless?" Friskfields said. He studied my face, and I could practically see that confidence meter of his filling up. "The only hopeless that sits with the likes of me is hopelessly romantic."

I laughed. "Oh, buzz off!"

"You buzz off!"

Just then, the branch Friskfields was perched on started to tilt downwards, and as it did, his body started to slide. I tried to duck, but with no avail, and his forehead collided with mine. It hurt much more than the first time.

"Hopelessly romantic sounds about right." I said, teasing the hinge of his jaw. "You're so hopelessly romantic that you wanted to come up against me the first thing we're together!"

"Wasn't me." Friskfields said. "Blame the force of the universe."

Suddenly his paws slipped from under him, and as he fell, his body crashed smack into mine. We were both sent tumbling towards the ground, Friskfields hauling me into his body by the sway of his wrist, sparing me the impact.

We landed in a heap of fur.

Friskfields moved first, picking his head up to glare at the sky, or more so at force of the universe, for plummeting us down, for daring to defy him.It was so ridiculous and unbelievable and yet so utterly Friskfields that I had to bite down a smile. "Bugger," he muttered, before turning to look at me. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. They do say irony is the fifth force of the universe."

"You and your big, beautiful brain."

"It's not beautiful!" I said, even as my smile got so big it hurt. "I could have broken a leg! Why'd we even climb that tree in the first place?"

He peered at me closely. I would be blushing if I hadn't been already. "You never have done this before, have you?"

"Done what? Climb a tree?"

"Nah." Friskfields said easily. He slid down until he was lying on the grass, his head on my lap, face turned upward towards me, smiling warm and slow until it was so big it scrunched his nose up. "Just plain enjoying."

"Enjoying?" I repeated, pushing a paw through the fur on his head. He leaned into the touch, and the light of happy recognition in his eyes was so bright that I could feel it coming over me like a breathless rush. "I… I think I get it."

"Good." He grinned. "So? What do you want to do now?"

"You mean us, right?"

"I meant exactly what I said, Stormcloud." He said. "I'm going to try to stop sulking over my privilege and inability to relate. I'm going to try to accept being uncomfortable, listen, and take action. Maybe sharing this is still more of the same, but it's worth a try." His smile went soft around the edges. "Now it's your turn. What do you want to do, Stormcloud?"

I could see that he wasn't teasing now, so I too sat up to think over my answer. Things had been much more difficult before. But now, there was nothing left to worry about. There was no war, no fighting, just me and my oldest friend, my first lover. The one cat that I could open up about this with.

"I want to know more about myself. About who Flamestar and Tempest were." I begun, still somewhat anxious. I could see the way Friskfields just watched on with patience and understanding, despite not knowing who Tempest was, and why I was talking about Flamestar. It helped me feel a little more at ease as I went on. "I still have so many questions about Hollowheart and why he did the things he did. But one thing I'm sure about, the one thing that I know I have to do is…. clear Beechshade's name. I'm going to call upon our clanmates with the right as leader, and tell them what I did, what Beechshade didn't do. I don't know if I'm fit for leadership, and if I even want to be leader at all, but I'm not going to put what I want over what's important. I'm going to tell everyone who the real murderer is before I go on personal missions again. Before I go on to find out about Flamestar. About Hollowheart."

"What you want is important, too." Friskfields was sure to remind me. He clasped his paw over mine. "You avenged Hollowheart. I think you're entitled to one personal mission."

"Maybe. But I have to do this first." I said. After a moment, my paw still in his, I added, "Will you come with me? You don't have to say anything, but will you just stand with me?"

Instead of replying, he held me close, nodding over and over again. Then, with his voice muffled against my neck, he asked, "You sure you're ready?"

That was when I paused.

It would be easy to just walk away from my past, this dark, indecent thing, and call it quits. To hide it deep inside me instead of piquing myself of it and girding up for a fight. Because I'd had enough of fights. I'd had enough of my past chasing after me, its jaw wide and hungry, ready to swallow me down. I'd had enough of looking up the sky, searching, prodding, asking for it to tell me what the grand scheme of life was. Asking for my purpose.

Looking down to see my paw against Friskfields', it wasn't so hard to guess.

So I'd learn to stand upright on my own. To face this monster of my past head-on. To tell the truth to my clanmates, no matter how painful it was. To answer the questions that they'd have and tell the stories still untold. And, finally, to apologize to Friskfields for leaving him alone all these moons, and if I could, I would never leave him again. To do all this might take a day, or a moon, or even longer than that. But sitting still right here, feeling the weight of his body leaning against me, his warm breath on my neck, I knew what I had to say.

"Yeah." I smiled. "I'm ready."

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your love and support, and for sticking it out this far. It's been a fun year or so writing this story, and such a special experience. Hopefully it was for you, too.