When Fireheart awoke the next day, Graystripe had already left the nest. He licked his pelt slowly, stalling getting up to interact with the rest of the clan. The bright light flooding through the branches of the warrior's den told him that it was already sunhigh- he was unsurprised that he'd slept most of the day away. His body felt lighter than it had yesterday and his mind somewhat clearer but a foul tongued stoat in his mind kept whispering about how his incompetence as a mentor left Cinderpaw comatose.
He screwed up his eyes against the light reflecting off of the much higher snow. It must've kept falling all through the morning- it was shoulder height on him and blanketed the entire camp clearing. The thick layers of snow muffled the hustle and bustle of camp life and he almost went back into the warrior's den to enjoy the peace and quiet it would bring him.
Some of the larger warriors had dug trails through the camp to make it easier for smaller warriors to get around. All of the trails led to the medic's den- which made sense he supposed. With the possible return of greenleaf and the shaky relationship between all clans but WindClan, it made sense for the medic's den and the nursery to be the most accessible dens.
He spotted Mousefur using the trails, bounding through some of the barrier snow that had built up on either side of the trails carrying a rabbit towards the fresh kill pile.
He took a step into the snow, releasing a squeal when he sank in. Just because the trails had been dug out didn't mean all snow on the ground was firm enough to walk on, he realized. The trails just ensures that cats as small as Fireheart could at least walk without snow up to their chins. He struggled through the snow until he reached the edge of the clearing that was only about a mouse deep.
As he recovered from his snow drowning risk, he looked up at the sound of snow crunching. Graystripe was plowing through the snow, his thick layered coat likely protecting him from the snow far more efficiently than Fireheart's coat could.
He was probably one of the cats who made the trails, Fireheart mused to himself, eyeing his friend warily. Along with Tigerclaw and Goldenflower.
The gray warrior took a seat next to him. Fireheart said nothing to him, his pain from the day before still smarting. He looked at Fireheart, face clouded with sorrow, "Have you heard? Bluestar lost a life to greencough."
Fireheart snorted, "Yeah. I was with her and Thrushpelt through the night."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Graystripe said with shock.
Fireheart rolled his eyes, "If you don't remember you were in a dung tier mood the night before. And I wasn't in the mood for a fight."
Graystripe shrank away, averting his eyes.
"I've seen Cinderpaw," he mumbled. "I- Fireheart I'm so sorry."
"How is she?" Fireheart asked tiredly.
"She's pulling through- Brackenpaw, Thornpaw and Brightpaw are beside themselves though. We've given them the day off."
Graystripe sighed quietly and pressed into him, "Brackenpaw is holed up in the apprentice's den blaming himself. He keeps saying he should've paid more attention to her."
"That's not his fault," Fireheart muttered.
"But he doesn't believe anyone who tells him," Graystripe said. "I'm going to give him a couple days like Thrushpelt did for me when… when Lionheart passed."
Fireheart nodded at the idea- he remembered the way Graystripe had stared into nothingness. How he was in too much shock to do much more than tremble until he'd fallen asleep. The next day, he'd spend his dawn to dusk in Spottedleaf's den after being coaxed into eating traveling herbs to ensure he wouldn't starve while grief stole his appetite and energy.
If Brackenpaw was even a little like Graystripe, Fireheart would recommend giving the apprentice four full days to grieve then spend the rest of the moon doing half days.
He shook his head, standing. He needed to see Cinderpaw now- just to check on her.
"Have you seen Frostfur?" he asked.
Graystripe nodded, "She was already in there, sharing her nest. Spottedleaf shooed me out- said she didn't want anyone in there until she'd woken up."
Fireheart shrank in on himself, shuddering and his courage leaving him. He was dreading the confrontation with Frostfur, how would she react? Seeing him, the cat who was supposed to guide and train her kit, that he had failed. A warm tongue brushed his cheek and his head snapped up to Graystripe.
"It wasn't your fault, Fireheart," he said.
Before Fireheart could respond, the gray warrior got to his head and trudged off towards the nursery.
Fireheart sighed, Off to see Silverstream. He hoped that Silverstream at least convinced his ash-brain of a best friend to move farther from Sunningrocks.
A soft clearing of a throat made Fireheart jump a bit. Speckletail was one of the eldest queens in the nursery and would likely return to the elder's den as soon as her kits were apprentice aged. She was also standing right in front of him, the molly pointing to the warrior's den with her nose.
"Is Whitestorm or Tigerclaw in there?" she inquired.
Fireheart shook his head, "No what's wrong?"
"Greencough made its way back into the nursery," she explained. "Now Fernkit's caught it too."
Fireheart gasped in horror, "Does Spottedleaf have enough herbs for them? Will they die?"
Speckletail's ears lowered and her eyes softened at Fireheart, "Maybe. But leaf-bare always brings greencough and we always lose at least one cat to it."
"Surely we can do something," Fireheart protested.
"Spottedleaf will do her best with the skills she has but in the end, it's all up to the Souls," she turned away, beginning to pad back to the nursery. "Who knows, maybe Bluestar will count as our 'one life' this season and the kits will be fine."
As he watched her leave, Fireheart was struck by a feeling of mounting pressure. For the first time ever, Fireheart felt overwhelmed by clan traditions and mentality. He felt out of his depth and unable to handle them. The stoats of sickness scampering throughout the camp snapped at his ankles and he just had to get out.
He was nearly blind with panic and he scrambled through the gorse tunnel and into the general forest. The canopies above had kept the snow lower and more scattered but Fireheart barely acknowledged that. He scrambled to a halt when he realized that he'd gone to the ridge of the sandy hollow instinctively and his thoughts of Cinderpaw slammed into him the way he imagined being caught by a bear's paws would.
As he scrambled to leave, he caught the tail end of a conversation between Whitestorm and Darkstripe instructing their mostly grown apprentices in advanced battle techniques. Fireheart felt like the world was spinning on its head- was he being oversensitive? Was he as soft and weak willed as Tigerclaw and Darkstripe claimed him to be? It seemed like he was the only one weighed down by Bluestar's loss of life.
When he found himself on the Neutral Stretch it was the second time he didn't hesitate or pause at the clawed treeline. He slowed to a walk, preventing the guards from tensing as they had before.
"Welcome home Prince Soryn," said one of the guards.
Fireheart shuddered at the word- home. Because this was still home to him wasn't it? ThunderClan was his family now, the camp their home but a cat could have many homes. He padded through the main area into the secondary clearing where Ashara's hearth burned brilliantly, its heat and warmth creating a warm dry circle around it.
He sank to his belly before the flame of his goddess for the first time in moons and bowed his head. Even if Ashara's hearth offered him nothing but the warmth of its flame, he'd take all the comfort he could get.
"Ashara," Fireheart said to the flame. "Offer me your wisdom. If you can't give me your wisdom, then I ask of you your warmth."
He scooped up a pawful of pleasantly warm ashes, smooth and well ground. The same as the ashes beside the charred tree but somehow radically different. He rubbed it into his arms then rolled on his back to further entrench the ash into his pelt.
"Soryn?"
He looked up to see his elder sister approaching him. Isaria's gaze was gentle and concerned as she saw him soaking in the Ashes of the Hearth. Her belly was no longer swollen and her steps were far stronger and more graceful. Ahasra was at her side looking tired but excited to see him all the same.
He sat up, a small smile automatically blossoming on his face the way it always did when he saw his little sister. Fireheart purred as Ahasra rubbed her face into his chest, sighing happily as she took in his forest scent mingling with the characteristic char and ash scent of the kingdom. He looked up at his older sister, allowing a soft purr to rise from his chest.
"You've kitted," he said warmly to Isaria. "How'd it go? Are the kits alright?"
"It went great!" said Ahasra. "We have five beautiful nephlings."
Fireheart purred even louder allowing his current worries to die down in the face of such a good thing.
"Would you like to see them?" Isaria asked with a grin.
"Of course."
Fireheart got to his paws and followed his sisters around the far side of the hearth, his fears and worries falling from his chest. The nursery was just as he remembered it to be. With leaves and grass scattered across the ground creating a soft and safe place for kits to wrestle and tumble about. He'd almost forgotten the scent of milk and the squealing of kits in the air.
He mewed quiet greetings to the other mollies in the den, nursing their kits and followed Isaria to a cozy looking nest near the back of the den. Five healthy kits were curled up with each other, nestled together making Fireheart's heart swell.
"They're all here," he said purring as Isaria climbed into the nest.
"We've decided to wait until they're a bit older," she explained. "As it is, they wouldn't survive the long journey back to the cloud."
Fireheart hummed in agreement, thinking about it. She clearly kitted a bit ago but if they were still wholly dependent on milk, the moon long journey to the Racing Clouds would endanger the kits when none of the guards the Cloud had brought with them were producing milk.
"They're all wonderful," he said, smiling warmly down at them.
"So what brought you by?" Ahasra asked. "Raven told me that you were here before for catmint. Sorry I missed you."
"It's alright but yes, we had greencough in the camp," he said watching his sisters cringe sympathetically. "It took one of Bluestar's lives and a couple of kits have it now."
"One of her lives?" Isaria echoed.
Fireheart grinned, "Yeah- that old kit tale? It's true for the leaders of the clans. Bluestar was granted nine lives under the blessing of their gods from StarClan."
He purred at their looks of awe adding, "I didn't believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. Remember when we were leaving Mothermouth?"
"While I was escorting Sparrow," Ahasra agreed. "Did she come back to life in there?"
"No no we were ambushed by rats on the way back to camp," Fireheart explained. "Bluestar died and I watched her eyes ignite- it was like seeing the story Ahasra myself."
"Woah," said Ahasra. "I'm sorry that you both were attacked but I kinda wish I was there to see that."
"I don't blame you," Fireheart laughed. "I wish I had nine lives. Unfortunately, normal cats like me and Cinderpaw only have one."
"How is Cinderpaw?" Isaria asked. "She was telling me about a spar she had with Thornpaw."
Fireheart's light-hearted mood dropped again, he sighed quietly.
"...she's not good," Fireheart admitted quietly. "She's in a healing sleep. We don't know when she'll wake up. Or if she'll wake up."
Ahasra clambered from around the nest and settled down next to him. She wrapped her tail around him and began grooming his shoulder. Fireheart trembled and the story burst from his mouth. He told them about greencough, about the boar who'd mauled Cinderpaw, the uncertainty of her situation and the stress he felt.
"She was so full of life," Isaria said sadly.
"It's my fault- I should've been able to make her listen," he whimpered. "Tigerclaw asked for Bluestar but she was sick and Cinderpaw didn't listen when I told her to stay put."
"You're still a good mentor, Soryn," Isaria told him gently. "Cinderpaw never had anything but good stories about you- even when she was being scolded."
"I don't know why Tigerclaw would even want to meet Bluestar in such a place," he spat. "That must've been huge with the gouges it left in the ground- surely he heard it coming! Surely he could have warned Cinderpaw to climb a tree- he sure had time to climb a tree! And I didn't even smell ShadowClan scent on our side of the border so Cinderpaw got hurt for nothing!"
Ahasra looked up. She'd been quiet throughout his story, his youngest sister often mourned in silence. There was a glint of malice and fury in her eyes as she said slowly, "...maybe it was a trap."
Fireheart blinked at her, "Wha-"
"Raven's here because of Tigerclaw," she suggested. "Maybe the deer trail was meant to be a trap. Boars smell strongly but by the scent markers, it'd probably be hard to pick out until you were right on top of it."
"Why would Tigerclaw want to hurt Cinderpaw?" he asked. "She's never looked at him with anything but admiration."
Ahasra shook her head at him, "Well it wasn't Cinderpaw he wanted was it? It was Bluestar."
Fireheart felt his heart stop. He'd been so caught up in his grief, in his guilt and confusion that he hadn't even considered the situation. But the more he thought about it, the more Ahasra's words made sense. For starters, why would he need Bluestar to see the evidence with her own eyes? As much as Fireheart didn't like Tigerclaw, he was a senior warrior- his word alone should've been enough for Bluestar to consider an attack. Plus, Tigerclaw seemed to have successfully leveraged himself as the secondary to Whitestorm- if it was Bluestar that had been caught, had been killed the clan would've pressured Whitestorm into making him deputy.
He shivered. Then it would only be a matter of killing Whitestorm before he got his lives- claim that it was the rats again.
"I'm so tired," Fireheart said wearily. "Everything is so confusing. Especially with Graystripe being so weird with me lately."
"Graystripe's being weird?" Ahasra inquired.
"He's off frolicking with our friend Silverstream," Fireheart said dryly. "Whenever he isn't talking about her or thinking about her he's all… cuddly. He licks my ears and calls me 'finch' and brings me my favorite prey to share but whenever she comes up he's all 'leave me alone' and 'stay out of it Fireheart. Plus it's not easy being different."
"Are cats still picking on you?" Ahasra asked sympathetically.
Isaria bristled and Fireheart couldn't suppress his smile at the protective nature of his older sister.
"Picking on him?"
"Only Longtail, Darkstripe and Tigerclaw," Fireheart admitted. "And Dustpaw's been getting meaner too. I think Darkstripe is whispering in his ear against me."
"You could always come home," Ahasra suggested. "Stay here with us."
Fireheart looked at his baby sister and for the first time noticed the pain and longing in her eyes, tinted by hope as she looked at him. His heart clenched- he knew that Ahasra had missed him dearly. Every time they saw each other on the stretch, she would press into him like it would be the last time she ever saw him.
"Even if it's hard, even if it hurts sometimes, I still like my life in the clans," Fireheart murmured. He felt like he'd clawed her physically when a crestfallen expression crossed her face but she didn't try to fight him. Even if she missed him, Ahasra would never force him to turn away from his dream.
She pushed herself to her paws, "I'll go get more catmint. Sounds like you guys really need it."
Fireheart watched her leave the den with guilt eating away at his heart.
"She'll be okay, Soryn."
He turned back to face Isaria who watched him with a knowing look on her face.
"I feel so guilty- she clearly wants me back."
"Ahasra's wanted you to come home since that first night you spent in the forest," Isaria said gently. "She'll be sad for a bit, then she'll move and be happy that you're living the life you've dreamed about like she usually does."
"She's right."
Fireheart turned around to see Ahasra standing over a mouthful of catmint, her sad face tinged with warmth and love.
"I miss you like a grounded bird misses the wind in their feathers," she murmured, rubbing her check against his shoulder. "But I would never want you to be grounded with me. Look at you! Living out the life from dad's stories- running with the wild cats, hunting mice, training apprentices- leaders with nine lives!"
"I've met Tallstar," he blurted out.
Her eyes lit with warmth, "See? You're doing everything you've ever wanted! Don't let me missing you be the reason you give up. We'll always welcome you home Soryn- even if you don't live here anymore."
Tears pricked in the corner of his eyes and he twisted to press his head against her cheek.
"I'll have to tell you guys about Tallstar next time," he whispered. "All of you- Adihikko too. He's just like dad described him."
"We'll be waiting for it," Isaria promised. She stood from her nest and stretched out her neck, gently licking his cheek. "Don't be such a stranger, Soryn. Asha will be furious she's missed you again."
He laughed tearfully picking up the catmint and left the den. He took in a deep breath of the ashy air, enjoying the warmth of the cinders beneath his paws and for the first time since Cinderpaw's accident, thinking bout her didn't hurt. He left his sisters curled around his nephlings and strode back off to the forest. Fireheart would remember this- that being Fireheart the ThunderClan warrior doesn't mean he has to sacrifice Soryn, the brother of adoring and loving siblings.
He was sure that if any clan cat had been him, smelling of ash, a mouthful of catmint and his collar secured around his neck, they'd have scoffed or spat at him. Or if they were kinder and more intuitive, they'd see Sweetsoul striding alongside him and his father watching him with pride.
"Good thinking Fireheart," Whitestorm praised as Fireheart entered the camp with the catmint still secured in his jaws.
The deputy gestured for Brackenpaw- who looked like he'd blown through a bush- to come closer, "Take that to Spottedleaf please. "
The apprentice abandoned his task, clearing snow from the center of the clearing towards the edges and came to collect the herb for delivery. Fireheart tilted his head at the stiff but determined gait of the apprentice- his memories of his sister were fresh in his mind and unbidden, he saw Ahasra in the curly furred tom.
Maybe he was like her and needed to be doing something to handle his grief. Maybe the whole clan worked the same way. In order to handle the grief and stress, they worked harder, making sure they were too focused on tasks to confront the sadness they felt.
"Hey," Fireheart returned his attention to Whitestorm. "Tell Graystripe he'll have to stay in Spottedleaf's clearing. All cats with whitecough are being confined there on the chance it becomes greencough."
"But it's only a chill," said Fireheart tilting his head.
"A chill would've healed by now," Whitestorm corrected. "Yours has."
Fireheart blinked, and then dipped his head in acknowledgement of that. As sore as his lungs were yesterday, he hadn't had a coughing fit since the day before.
"Also leave Bluestar be for a while."
"But she's healed?" Fireheart meowed in confusion.
"And her den still reeks of sickness- Thrushpelt's caught a light cough that we're trying to head off and I can't risk you getting sick again with even more RiverClan scent being found even closer to camp."
Fireheart suppressed his urge to sigh in exasperation as he had an idea of who that 'RiverClan cat' was and nodded to Whitestorm.
"And see if you can coax Brackenpaw into some basic training later," Whitestorm said in a quiet voice. "I don't want him sitting around sinking in self-blame. It's not good for him."
Fireheart agreed, a tinge of amusement and annoyance warring within him. Whitestorm was a good cat and a good deputy but flames could he get in his way sometimes.
Although, Fireheart admitted to himself. Two of his kits have greencough. That's reason enough for him to be stressed out and protective.
"You may go see Cinderpaw now," Whitestorm told him, whiskers twitching.
Fireheart chuckled and made his way to the medic's den, amused at being seen through by the deputy. He waved his tail getting Brackenpaw's attention as they passed each other in the clearing, "Hope you're ready for some leaping and racing- we're going to be catching birds from the air tomorrow."
Brackenpaw's eyes light up, "I'll meet you at the training hollow!"
He watched him bound offm shaking his head fondly as pushed into Spottedleaf's den. He didn't bother waiting in the main area and slipped into the clearing. His eyes drifted to Brindleface's kits and Mistlekit, coughing and sniffling in their bracken nest. He scanned the clearing, worry pricking his heart at the number of additional nests. Thrushpelt was sulking in one on the far end and Spottedleaf was standing over a black and white tom curled in another.
"Thanks for the catmint," Spottedleaf said gratefully. "We're going to need it."
"We'll have to make it last," Fireheart said. "I don't think the sun has much left to spare out of the sharable portion."
"It should be more than enough," Spottedleaf responded. "Elderkit seems to be on the mend."
Fireheart nodded, "How's Cinderpaw?"
"I thought she woke up earlier- she's been thrashing a lot. I think she's having nightmares."
He hesitantly walked over to Cinderpaw's nest, her broken leg stuck out awkwardly from the next, twitching as she murmured and flinched. He bent down and gently licked between her ears, some of his guilt easing when the pinched expression on her face cleared up. He looked up towards Spottedleaf, seeking reassurance but the molly was staring up at the ceiling above.
"...I wonder if you would've been able to heal all these cats," she whispered. "You always seemed to know just what to do, Featherwhisker. I'm just fumbling like a fresh apprentice."
Fireheart didn't think he was supposed to hear that as the molly closed her eyes and shook her head.
"You've done your best," he asserted. "I doubt anyone could've done anything better."
She was about to say something to him but one of the kits- Mistlekit he thinks- cried out and Spottedleaf leapt to her paws, rushing over to attend to her. Fireheart let his tail run down her back as she passed and turned to leave.
The air left his lungs when a pelt of white fur appeared at the entrance to the patient's clearing. Frostfur must be coming to visit Cinderpaw, he realized and took a deep breath.
"Frostfur," he said before she could pass him.
She paused and glanced at him.
"I-I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Why?"
"For not being able to stop Cinderpaw. For her ending up… like this."
Frostfur stared at him, only sadness visible in her blue eyes and she leaned over, bumping his shoulder with her head.
"This isn't your fault," she said simply and continued her path to her kit.
Fireheart didn't have the energy to argue with her, he let her pass and rejoined the main camp clearing. Graystripe was back, he noticed, munching on a vole beside the nettle clump near the warrior's den. He tried to summon his rage, to keep being angry that Graystripe hadn't been there for him but he was just tired.
The conversation with his sisters and short meeting with Frostfur had sapped his energy.
"Whitestorm says you'll have to nest in the medic's clearing until you're better," he said.
"No need no," said Graystripe cheerily. "I'm all healed now. Haven't even sneezed today."
Fireheart observed his friend's crusted nose and heavy eyes. Normally Fireheart would make a joke about him looking like Runningnose from ShadowClan but though he didn't have the energy to start an argument, he still hadn't forgiven his friend for not being there when he'd needed him the most. So he simply nodded and stalked over to the fresh-kill pile, grabbed a finch and began to eat.
He ignored Graystripe's attempt to make conversation but allowed him to drape his tail over his back. It seemed that his friend had realized that Fireheart was still angry with him. And as annoyed as he was, Fireheart still appreciated the comfort he offered. So he leaned into Graystripe's warm coat, eating his finch in silence and thought about his brothers and sisters.
