The final chapter! I do realize this is a lot shorter than my other chapters, but all the main action has already happened and I couldn't think of other stuff to put. Anyway, I will be writing a sequel, due to popular request, and the first chapter should be up in a few weeks.

As she journeyed homeward, Sharpclaw began to stop caring about herself. She let her fur become dirty and matted. She ate just enough to keep her energy up so that she could go home. Truthfully, she wanted to collapse and let herself be found by some predator. But Nightshade and Kal would have wanted her to go back to her Clan, and she was going to do just that. She didn't even notice the destruction of the land around her.

And so she kept walking, as memories sprang unbidden into her mind. Nightshade biting into her fur in their first battle, finding him near the Talltree, running away from the patrol. And now, as continued toward her homeland, she remembered how they had fought the night before they first separated. Maybe if they'd stayed together, things would have different. Maybe he would still be alive.

Finally, she reached the Talltree, without having run into any enemy patrols. And there she stopped. Laid out in front of her were the broad fields of WindClan, her home. Going just a few tail-lengths further and she would have to face everything she'd been once running from. Sharpclaw sighed. She knew what she had to do, but going back would mean having to face her Clan, and stop running away from her past. She shook her head and, taking a breath, trotted onward.

Much to her surprise, Sharpclaw found her paws and her heart became much lighter as she went on, not heavier. She soon began running, and in no time she found she was facing the briar wall, though it looked a little deformed, like something had destroyed it. Her heart was quivering in its place, threatening to jump up into her throat.

With an over joyous look on her face, she bowled through the opening and found herself staring wildly around at the faces of her Clan mates, who looked to be trying to clear away all the debris that littered the camp. They were all staring at her, probably thinking she'd returned from the dead.

"Sharpclaw!" A voice broke the silence, and Flashfur bounded toward her, smiling. Sharpclaw rubbed against him, too emotional to speak. The other cats now ran over to her, as if Flashfur had been a cue. As the black cat greeted them happily, she noticed Kinkstar waiting near his den for the crowd to dissipate. Patchclaw was beside him, quivering with the pressure of holding back to keep his dignity as deputy instead of running forward to lick her face.

Sharpclaw looked around, a broad grin still on her face. She realized that she'd come away from these cats young and naïve, arrogant, even. And now she was older, with a sketchy past and things she would never tell a soul about. Surrounding her now were the cats that she had missed for so long, yet she felt strangely disappointed. She raised her head slightly.

There. She could just see him at the back of the crowd. The cat she'd wanted to see for so long. Her stomach lurched and her heart jumped and began to beat faster. Lightpelt was sitting slightly behind the other cats, staring at her face. She stared back before pushing her way through the cats to sit in front of him. She stared at him a moment longer before touching his nose with hers. He returned the gesture softly, his emerald eyes never leaving hers. Sharpclaw smiled softly at him before turning and walking over to Kinkstar and Patchclaw. She stopped and her eyes moved between the two of them. Finally she dipped her head.

"I'm sorry." She was amazed at how cracked her voice sounded.

"No." she heard Kinkstar say, and she raised her head. "We are the ones who are sorry."

Patchclaw said nothing, but the look in his eyes said it all for him. Sharpclaw rubbed against him briefly before Kinkstar's voice was near her ear.

"You have quite a story to tell, I presume." He stepped away and raised his voice. "Return to your work now. You can all say what you want to Sharpclaw later."

The Clan obliged, if grudgingly. Sharpclaw followed her leader and her deputy to the den beside the rock. She then proceeded to tell them her story, all of it. She told about running back from the Gathering, sleeping at the tree, and meeting Nightshade. Describing her brother brought fresh wails up to her throat, but she swallowed them back and continued.

She told them about meeting Mercedes and Carmen, and finding out that he was her true father. She kept her eyes away from Patchclaw's as she told them about that. She didn't want to meet his gaze as he realized he was only her uncle by adoption, and then only because her mother had once been the mate of his brother. Technically, they weren't even related.

Sharpclaw hurried through the rest of her tale, saying only that Kal and Nightshade had both died in the battle, and stood before Kinkstar and Patchclaw. The leader spoke suddenly.

"Come in, Lightpelt. You don't have to eavesdrop."

Lightpelt stepped through the den entrance, a guilty look on his face. "I'm sorry, Kinkstar. I couldn't help myself."

Sharpclaw, instead of being angry at him, felt relieved that she wouldn't have to retell her story to him later.

Later that night, Lightpelt took her hunting while Kinkstar told the Clan her story. The calico told her everything that had happened to the Clan, from the sickness and finding Talon, to the hurricane, Foxnose's apprentice, and finally to Talon's departure and the birth of Sleekheart's kits only hours before she'd arrived that day. The two cats spent the remainder of the night with each other, simply enjoying watching the night sky.

Time passed. Sharpclaw resettled into her life as a Clan member, and she realized just how much she had grown up in her time away, and how much Lightpelt how grown. He was no longer the pestering adolescent he had once been. He had grown into a fine young cat in her absence. When Sharpclaw had left, she had been naive enough to think that she didn't belong in the Clan. But now she realized that it was exactly where she belonged, alongside the other warriors and with Lightpelt.

Several moons later, Sharpclaw lay in the nursery, while her kits played around her. Their father, Lightpelt, stood next to her, his head resting on hers, purring happily. There were four young kits. One tom was black, like Sharpclaw, and another had calico markings, such as Lightpelt. The only she-cat was a tabby, a black one. Her true name wasSkykit,but she was secretlyknown as Kal, to Sharpclaw and Lightpelt.

The fourth and final kit, also a tom, was another tabby. A dark red one, with darker stripes. Nightkit. Sharpclaw gave him an extra lick before looking back up to Lightpelt, her love, and up to the sky, where Kal and Nightshade now rested. With StarClan. She could only hope they were watching her now. She had finally found where she belonged. Her home.