Muffle

by akila archive 2

Blossomfall hears things sometimes. Ivypool's eyes are blue. The battle is over and the battle is just beginning. Or 'Character A really hates snow but Character B is determined to change their mind'. T for depiction of mental illness, Warriors-typical violence, and emotional abuse. Written for KatieK's one-shot contest.

i. Before

She stood still and strained, shivering in the white world.

Snow had come early that leaf-fall.

Mouse-dung.

She still couldn't hear it. Her heart pressed tighter on her ribs.

With a shuddering breath, she tried to listen again. Maybe Dovepaw was wrong. This is just making me more anxious, she thought. Dovepaw, ever attentive, had drawn her aside that morning when Briarpaw and Bumblepaw launched themselves out of the camp to explore ThunderClan in the snow. She said she'd noticed how Blossompaw was collapsing in on herself.

Blossompaw knew this day was coming, and the anticipation had only made it worse. Dovepaw saw it. She told Blossompaw about her own trick for calming herself in agitating situations, about how she would stand still and try to find the quietest thing to listen to. Blossompaw agreed to try it, because of course; because it was Dovepaw. Dovepaw said she used the crackle of leaf-fall leaves in the furthest corner of the territory, or the drone of cicadas beneath all other sounds of the green-leaf forest.

Or the snow.

Blossompaw's breaths hissed in faster as the panic began to build anew. Hazeltail was waiting. I'm not ready. I'm not ready. She'd had a dream last night, where she came back and her littermates were named warriors and Hazeltail told Firestar that Blossompaw wasn't ready. Dovepaw and Hazeltail had been terribly disappointed in her. Millie and Graystripe were busy celebrating their kits' names and Blossompaw had slunk off into the apprentice den alone.

She wasn't trying to listen to the snow anymore. Now she was listening to the memories of Graystripe's enthusiasm when Bumblepaw caught a pigeon for his father, and Millie's delight when Briarpaw brought her chervil for her bellyache.

Snow was silent, anyway, she thought. She didn't have the same perfectly sensitive ears as Dovepaw.

"Blossompaw?"

Her heart seemed to crush a little more and she opened her jaws to reply to her mentor, who had poked her gray and white head out of the bushes. Nothing came out.

"Everything's ready for the assessment," Hazeltail said, blinking kindly at her. "I'm sure you're nervous, but you'll be alright."

No, I won't, she thought and nodded.

Hazeltail led her back to camp where Briarpaw, Bumblepaw, Thornclaw, and Mousewhisker waited. Cinderheart and Dovepaw were there with them. Blossompaw's stomach roiled and she thought, Oh, good. Dovepaw will be there to see me fail.

She tried to draw in a breath, but like a piece of prey lodged in her throat, it only made it halfway down. I'm going to collapse. Or I'm going to cry. Or fail. I'm going to fail. She stared at her siblings as they stretched out their paws, ready for the assessment with bright eyes. How will I take care of them when I'm stuck as an apprentice and they're going out on patrol?

Nauseous dread settled in her belly and she squeezed her eyes shut. Then she used her own anxiety-busting trick and began to whisper. "I'm nervous, but I'll be alright." And she repeated it, until everything felt a little more manageable. Her stomach still felt full of rot and anxiety, but she could see straight, at least.

"Dovepaw, you're hunting with Briarpaw," Thornclaw told the young apprentice, who flicked an ear in assent.

Jealousy burned Blossompaw, but she held her tongue. If it was pair-hunting, Briarpaw was sure to pass with Dovepaw on her side. Still, the idea of Briarpaw or Bumblepaw failing their assessment was even more unthinkable than Blossompaw's fears for her own future—I'd box Firestar's ears, she thought. And then I'd hold the ceremony myself if I had to.

Cinderheart returned with Ivypaw, Dovepaw's skinny, scowling sister to join them. She always seemed in a bad mood to Blossompaw, like everything every cat did was meant to irritate her, and always seemed more interested in stewing in her own bad-temperedness than training. Please, don't...

"The assessment will be carried out in pairs this time," Cinderheart announced as they joined Blossompaw and her littermates. Then she turned to Ivypaw. "We need you to pair up with Blossompaw."

Dread lurched through Blossompaw. "No way!" It burst out of her without a second thought. Cinderheart's eyes widened, then instinctively moved to Ivypaw as if to protect her from Blossompaw's distress. Still, Blossompaw's venomous fear had escaped and wouldn't allow itself to be locked back down now. "She's not properly trained! Can't I have Dovepaw? At least she can hunt."

There wasn't time to take back the too-sharp words before Ivypaw's blue eyes lit with anger and she snapped, "I know how to hunt!"

She couldn't back down when her warrior name was on the line. If Ivypaw wanted cats to think she could hunt, perhaps she should have trained a little harder instead of frowning at everyone. "You've hardly caught more than a mouse!" Blossompaw felt the same burn in her chest and directed her gaze at Dovepaw. "Dovepaw's brilliant! She can hear prey anywhere!"

Dovepaw wasn't flattered; rather she stared at Blossompaw as though she couldn't believe what was being said about her sister. Shame scorched Blossompaw, but her pride wouldn't allow her to fold now. I need to pass this assessment. Once I'm a warrior, things will be different. I can't stay behind.

Ivypaw, rather than turning into the sulky puddle Blossompaw was familiar with, straightened, resoluteness flashing in her gaze, and said, "I'll do my best. Besides, you're the one being assessed, not me."

The unexpectedly mature answer only furthered Blossompaw's embarrassment and she slid her claws into the earth on instinct.

"Well said, Ivypaw," Hazeltail said, dipping her head to the younger she-cat, then turned a freezing look on her apprentice. "Ivypaw is doing you a favor. You should be doing the work, not her."

Blossompaw hung her head. I've already ruined everything! Now Ivypaw won't work with me and I'm not going to get my name and Graystripe and Millie won't care and I'll be an apprentice forever!

As it turned out, Ivypaw seemed to have learned to hunt like a full warrior overnight. Blossompaw's humiliation blazed brighter when Ivypaw reappeared with a fat squirrel, earning congratulations from both Dustpelt and Thornclaw. What?! They never say anything nice to apprentices! She had comforted Briarpaw more than once when she had lamented that Thornclaw didn't even seem to like her. Blossompaw quivered with fear and anger, a perplexing mix of invalid rage at Ivypaw and frustration with herself for not catching anything surging up within her.

"What's all the noise about?" she snapped, if only to prevent more compliments flooding Ivypaw's way. "I was stalking a rat and you scared it away!"

That was a lie, but she couldn't admit she had found nothing in her own warrior assessment. She could hardly ask Ivypaw for help now; she'd ruined everything with one outburst, and now all her worst fears would come true. She wanted to whisper the little mantra from Hazeltail, but then she would look crazy in front of her hunting partner, and that was almost worse than cruelty.

"Okay," she said with a deep breath. I have to catch something. I have to. "Come with me."

In the end, they returned with the same amount of prey. Thornclaw decided to end the assessment early because of the freezing rain. Returning to camp soaked and miserable made Blossompaw feel even worse, but at least she had gotten back before her littermates and had her parents crowding around her without first turning to her siblings.

"How did it go?" Millie asked.

"Did the pair hunting work?" Graystripe asked.

For the first time that day, Blossompaw flushed with pleasure. In a litter of three, it was rare to have her parents focused on her. Especially because—"It was okay. I…" She swallowed. "I think Ivypaw hates me though."

Millie's eyes narrowed in concern. "What do you mean?"

She ducked her head and admitted, "I said something mean and then I didn't apologize." That was one thing Millie had drilled into her children; hurting others is bad, and refusing to apologize is worse.

Millie tsked, but Graystripe rasped his tongue over his daughter's ear. Blossompaw wanted to bury herself in his fluffy gray chest-fur again like she was a kit. "Blossompaw, one mean thing doesn't ruin everything. Didn't I tell you about the time Firestar and I tried to rip each other's pelts off in the middle of ThunderClan camp?"

Blossompaw pricked her ears, shocked to think of her good-humoured father and the eternally-loyal leader of ThunderClan getting into an honest-to-StarClan, paws-and-claws fight. "What?! No! How did that happen?"

Millie shot her mate an amused look. "Ah yes. That's a good one. For after the ceremony, maybe."

Graystripe rumbled a purr of agreement.

Bumblepaw and Briarpaw practically bounced back into camp, both certain they had passed. Blossompaw pressed her own dreadful uncertainty deep into her belly and helped Millie wrestle them to the ground to groom the ice that crystallized on their fur-tips out of their pelts.

"You can't be looking like an icicle at your warrior ceremony!" she chided Briarpaw, tackling her. Her sister let out a mrrow of amusement and tried to roll away. Her short brown fur had managed to accrue a thicker layer of frost than Blossompaw's own fluffier tortoiseshell pelt, somehow.

"I can if I want to! You don't get to order me around anymore, bossy-paws, I'm going to be a warrior!" Briarpaw declared, springing to her paws.

Fear, as ice-cold as the freezing rain, slicked down Blossompaw's throat and into her belly. Again, she pressed it down. "Not yet! You're still a 'paw."

"So are you!" Briarpaw retorted, dodging another brisk lick.

And I might be for a while. Why didn't I try to work with Ivypaw? she thought, despair threatening to swarm back up and choke her. She knew she would be reliving that assessment for a long while—probably from inside the apprentice den—and hating herself for it. And maybe her father was right that she hadn't entirely ruined everything, but would Ivypaw even want to hear her out? How could she make things right when there was no explanation but "I'm terrified and angry all the time"?

"I'm nervous, but I'll be alright," she mouthed to herself once Graystripe and Millie were focused entirely on Bumblepaw and Briarpaw. Hazeltail's words were wearing thin. She'd said them before she had seen her apprentice snap at Ivypaw, after all; Hazeltail probably thought she was a lost cause now.

That wasn't what her mentor told her when the gray and white she-cat padded over to tell the litter the results of their assessments, though.

"Yes!" Bumblepaw exclaimed.

"We did it!" Briarpaw yowled.

Blossompaw stood still and silent. Pity? Why did they pass me when I only caught a blackbird? She gave Hazeltail a furtive look. Is it real? "I did, too?" she whispered.

"Of course." Her mentor purred and gave her a nudge. "You've trained hard, Blossompaw. Well done."

And that was supposed to be everything, but it wasn't.

Blossompaw blinked, watched Dovepaw look at Briarpaw with shining eyes, watched Graystripe press his muzzle to his son's, watched Millie brush her pelt to her daughter's, looked back at the apprentices' den where Ivypaw had disappeared, and... waited for the good feelings to swamp her.

They didn't come.

Dovepaw was ushered off by Lionblaze a moment later and Graystripe and Millie turned to Blossompaw to congratulate her, but Blossompaw felt frozen. The strangest kind of alarm was thrumming through her fur, more than she'd felt before her assessment.

I passed, she told herself. They're proud of me too.

She looked up at the leaf-fall sky and kept waiting. Even though she was around other cats and wasn't supposed to, she murmured to herself, "It's over. I did it. It's over, I did it, and it's over."

She was still repeating it when the tree began to fall.

iv. After

Trust was made of the thin layer of ice on a puddle and a flower's first petals underfoot.

Blossomkit had been clumsy as a kit.

Bumblestripe flinched when he saw her move quickly, once. She had whipped around to greet a patrol. She remembered how his eyes widened, she remembered how her heart skipped a beat, and she remembered that her brother didn't trust her.

They travelled to the island with Bramblestar, Jayfeather, Dovewing, and Lionblaze. With their Clanmates. Blossomfall watched Thornclaw, Mousewhisker, and Birchfall, and felt like she had been set adrift in the lake, untethered. She wasn't meant to be their Clanmate anymore, but she was.

"Come on," Ivypool murmured.

Blossomfall steeled herself for the stares of the other Clans. Her head spun when she laid eyes on the trainees from the other Clans. What about Boulderfur, Sunstrike, Hollowflight, Applefur, Redwillow…?

Dead, they said. Gone, they said. Redwillow attacked Blackstar. Sunstrike hesitated, Applefur wilted, Hollowflight was an apprentice who wanted to stand up to his bullies and they had left him spilling out into the river.

Blossomfall shook under the judgement of the leaders. Would they have been able to resist the Dark Forest? she wondered, looking over each of them. Bramblestar knew how to flip a cat and rake his claws down their belly as fast as Tigerstar. Onestar had never been a peacemonger. She remembered Brokenstar's looming frame and the understanding in his orange gaze. She remembered a nursery tale of Blackstar and what had happened moons and moons ago. He, of all cats, should believe in second chances. Had he been able to forgive himself? How?

The island whispered, or the leaders whispered, about forgiveness and punishment and exile and welcoming back into the fold. She was good at tuning them out, now.

It is not up to them, she thought. It is up to our Clans.

And ThunderClan had made its choice. She was not welcome back in the warriors den. She was not welcome to help bury the cats that had nursed her and taught her and bolstered her. She was welcome to find a quiet, lonely place to die.

Such an environment of poisonous distrust, she thought. The cats that you're told will defend you will their lives will slit you open and leave you for dead for a couple of mouse-tails. It reminded her of the Dark Forest.

She spoke the oath with her Clanmates to her Clanmates and her Clanmates spoke of death in their eyes.

Whispers harmonized with the oath, whispering that they didn't trust her and they didn't want to forgive. That was harder to tune out. They were right, she knew; she only had to look at Berrynose, who had teased Hazeltail that her apprentice was giving out more orders than the mentor, she only had to look at Toadstep, who she'd mooned over for the better part of her apprenticeship and who had hardly had time for her in his breathless pursuit of Lionblaze, she only had to look at Poppyfrost who had watched slack-jawed as Blossomfall snapped at Millie not to say Briarlight's life was over because it wasn't and Briarlight could hear her. Poppyfrost looked like she thought Blossomfall had done the right thing, then. She didn't look like that anymore.

She remembered something, standing under the Highledge like this and looking up at her leader. A time when things were different. Things were changed but they hadn't been ruined.

She and Bumblestripe had called, "Briarlight!"

Her sister had been glowing in the sunshine, brown fur groomed to perfection until she was as shiny and sleek as the inside of a chestnut. Briarlight looked up at Firestar with bright eyes, joy spilling over at being named a warrior.

The snow was melting that day. Briarlight's chest was clear and Millie was hiding her wet eyes in Graystripe's fur. They were still all tethered together, branches growing and extending from the same trunk.

Blossomfall had bounded over to her sister, pressed her muzzle to Briarlight's, coal-hot relief burning through her chest and in her eyes. "I'm so, so proud of you, Briarlight."

Briarlight had purred and nudged her sister, but they had stayed stuck together like a thorn and its branch, or a petal and its pollen, or a bee and its flower. Bumblestripe had brought up the rear, carefully twining his tail with Briarlight's limp one rather than tackling her like he used to.

Graystripe had come over then to be with his son and daughter, and Millie had come over to congratulate her favourite kit. Blossomfall had moved aside to let Millie be closest to Briarlight, and all of a sudden her mother turned a sharp look on her.

"Careful, Blossomfall!" she had exclaimed as Briarlight righted herself, adjusting to not being half-carried off her paws by her sister's enthusiasm. "You're hurting her!"

"I'm fine, Mom." Ever peacemaking, Briarlight had rubbed her muzzle along Millie's jaw and distracted her from scolding Blossomfall. Still, Blossomfall's heart fluttered with anxiety. I didn't hurt her, did I?

The question continued to ring in Blossomfall's ears moons later.

She had said as much to Briarlight, after the battle. Although said implied a degree of choice on Blossomfall's part. It was more like the truth had come spilling out of her, contained and pressed down until it was under so much pressure that it exploded.

I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you so much. I'm sorry I was so angry at you, I'm sorry I was jealous of you, I'm sorry that no matter how much I told myself it was ridiculous, it kept rotting away inside…

Briarlight had understood, or had at least said she did. Had said that she didn't blame Blossomfall, that she had never felt as though Blossomfall did anything to hurt her, and was proud of her for turning on the Dark Forest when the truth came out.

Blossomfall didn't deserve that much, but it was a balm anyway.

The dens were being shuffled around, and Dovewing, ever-generous, was giving up her nest for Briarlight. Hazeltail was sick. Very sick, if Blossomfall admitted it, but the fear that crept up into her paws when she considered her mentor's condition was unbearable.

Briarlight asked for pigeon feathers, and Lionblaze teased her. Blossomfall's pelt prickled and she interjected hotly,

"Briarlight has to have the softest nest! She can't feel thorns sticking into her,

remember? If she gets a wound, it could get infected before she noticed."

She sounded like Millie. Briarlight gave her a sympathetic look and Lionblaze rested his tail on her shoulders. Blossomfall ducked away, frustrated embarrassment washing through her. I just want to keep her safe!

She knew best of anyone how dangerous thorns in moss could be.

Blossomfall watched her sister excitedly cross camp to duck under the branches of the beech tree. She didn't want to look at Briarlight between those branches; the memory had never dulled enough for comfort.

She didn't want to look at her mother at the edge of camp, watching her daughter limp into the warriors den with pity in her eyes.

Don't pity her, Blossomfall thought. The whispers mingled with that sometimes, but more often they said, She deserves pity, and you deserve nothing. She is broken and you are whole and you are wholly alone.

She's not broken, she thought and lifted her eyes to where Briarlight was kneading her nest into shape. Neither of us should be pitied.

She wanted to check on Hazeltail, but she didn't want to see her mentor's glassy green gaze or her limp-lying tail. She wanted to see her sister. She wanted Millie to stop looking at her with pity, her Clanmates to stop looking at them with distrust, Ivypool—

Ivypool was watching her and Blossomfall didn't know why. Still, the longer she spent staring at Ivypool from the other side of the camp, the less time she was remembering the noise the beech made when it was falling.

The noise Vixenclaw didn't make as she faded and the noise the whispers were making and the noise of Millie's snarl as she told her what she knew.

Two days of sickness crept in on the feet of dawn, unseen claws reaching into the camp to close around her Clanmates' throats. Blossomfall woke up and waited for her own chest to cloud. She waited to blink open her eyes and find a film of sickness on them. Take me, she asked the silent stars. Let Briarlight go. Blossomfall was too young and too healthy; she could fight it off fine. Or she couldn't, and StarClan would drag her into the earth. Leave her there, probably. As long as Briarlight's chest stays clear.

The third night descended and Blossomfall knew with a certainty as heavy as the mountains on the horizon that StarClan wasn't calling. Hazeltail would be dead within the moon if nothing changed. The sickness would spread, wouldn't it?

She couldn't sleep. She remembered other nights, where the black tide wouldn't come. She had been grateful then. Now she was angry, again, angry and terrified and feeling terribly, terribly helpless. The Dark Forest had taught her the weakest parts of a cat's body. Vixenclaw had taught her how to cut to the bone in a single word. The whole world had taught her to destroy; how was she meant to save anyone this way? She wanted to storm into Jayfeather's den and demand he produce catmint from thin air. She didn't want to wake Briarlight. But Briarlight was in the warrior den, where she'd always belonged. She didn't want to wake Hazeltail. Hazeltail wouldn't ever wake up, soon.

Choking back helpless anguish, Blossomfall left camp. The moon was shining bright that night; more than a sliver. The sky was bright with starlight. The world below was burning up with sickness and there was only one thing to do. It was useless and she had to do it.

Some cat was following her.

Blossomfall froze in the night forest and tasted the air. ThunderClan. Her Clanmates. Some of those Clanmates wanted to kill her. She tasted the air. The night forest was crowded, with too many scents and too many noises.

She stood still and strained.

She could still hear it. But there; a flash of green eyes in the moonlight, a flash of gray fur turned dark by shadow, a flash of distrust in the scent of… Dovewing.

Blossomfall circled around the underbrush, feeling only half-aware of herself. She jumped out and knocked Dovewing to the earth. Then she waited for Dovewing to whirl on her and kill her for betraying ThunderClan.

"What did you do that for?!"

Dovewing's claws were sheathed. She blinked at Blossomfall like she'd never seen her before. Blossomfall wondered who it was that stood in front of her. Something was different about Dovepaw. Still, her green eyes were round and surprised. No anticipation of an attack, no intention of attacking herself. I'm not crazy, Blossomfall thought. I'm not crazy. She was following me.

"You were following me, weren't you?" Blossomfall squinted at her. "Why would you do that? Don't you trust me?"

In the moonlight, Dovewing seemed less real in an instant. Maybe Blossomfall was imagining things. She shifted her paws. That was a Dovewing thing to do, wasn't it? Her ears weren't pricked and swivelling like she was listening to worlds away from them. Was this Dovewing? Was this Vixenclaw?

"I…" Dovewing blinked. "I was just wondering where you were going."

"You may as well come with me, since you clearly think I'm up to no good." The words tasted sour on her own tongue. The scent of sickness was sour. Catmint was sweet. Dovewing was sweet and staring at her like she didn't know who she was. Blossomfall wasn't sure she knew either.

They collected catmint together in silence. Dovewing seemed surprised and relieved that this was what Blossomfall had left camp for. That would have meant a lot to her, once. Blossomfall churned a paw through the earth. What mattered now?

She stood still for a moment as they finished collecting the catmint, in the shade of the Twolegs den. Dovewing turned back to her, starlight glimmering in her eyes. Blossomfall would have been stunned by her, once. She had been. None of that was meant for her now.

Still, just in case Dovewing was still the only one who could see her… "I… I'm not sure I can forgive myself."

Dovewing pressed her muzzle to Blossomfall's shoulder. She would have been stumbling over herself. She should have been in love. She should feel something. "You have to," Dovewing murmured.

Blossomfall nodded numbly and walked back to camp in silence. She dreamed feverishly that night.

Blossomfall was standing on a field of strange, soft long-grass. It was mostly dead, dried-out-brown, but she could see patches of white and black woven through in the distance. The sky was blue eyes above her. There was a little beast sitting in front of her, crying.

She looked at it. It was an ugly thing, twisted and misshapen, and its screams were grating. It was like a kit crying for its mother, but…

"Stop crying," she told it, her voice feeling strange and wrong in this dream.

It wailed louder.

"Stop," she snapped.

It sounded angry now, yowling at her in pain and rage. Its cries were like a physical blow, digging into Blossomfall's chest and making her stagger back, tumbling on this field of brown grass.

"Please stop," she begged it. "I can't take it."

It writhed. She dragged herself over to it, her claws digging into the earth. Thorns dug into her skin and she gasped with pain. She bit the little thing, poison and rot filling her mouth, and she shook it like she was stunning prey. Jaws closed around her own neck, and with a spiralling flash of agony, Blossomfall woke up.

"Blossomfall!"

Briarlight stood over her. Blossomfall's cry died in her throat.

"Are you alright?"

"I… will be," she rasped. I have to be. She looked at her sister, fear and desperation blocking her throat. The battle's over. Why is this happening to me? The danger's gone, why is this happening to her? Why can't I be okay?

Hazeltail didn't wake up that morning.

ii. Before

The she-cat was white with orange patches and she hit harder than a fox.

Her name was Vixenclaw.

Things began quite nicely, Blossomfall thought. She had been having another of those dreams where Bumblestripe was trapped under the tree too and Millie kept yowling at her to save her littermates, when the dream changed and an unfamiliar she-cat rolled the trunk off them. Millie had been relieved and rested her muzzle on Blossomfall's head the way she used to when she was a kit, and then the whole dream dissipated like so much mist.

Vixenclaw had been kind, then. Almost sisterly. She had greeted Blossomfall with a nose-touch like they were old friends and always had a morsel of advice for whenever Blossomfall was down. After a few meetings and long conversations in the snowy dream-ThunderClan-territory, Blossomfall learned not to ask too much about Vixenclaw's life story and simply accept that when she fell asleep, instead of normal dreams, she'd meet this stranger sometimes. That was fine by Blossomfall. Most of her normal dreams were awful anyway.

"You don't need them," Vixenclaw declared one day. She had challenged Blossomfall to a race through the forest. Blossomfall huffed, out of breath, and Vixenclaw went on. "I know it's wrong to say that kind of thing," Vixenclaw accentuated this with a scornful tail-flick, "but what's kin worth, really, if they're awful? Isn't it enough to just be loyal to your Clanmates?"

Blossomfall eyed her and said nothing. A moon or two ago, that would be the sort of declaration to make Blossomfall write off a cat forever. Nothing was more important than kin. Still, things had begun to change recently, in many ways.

"I know what you're thinking," Vixenclaw said with a mrrow of amusement and nudged Blossomfall. Blossomfall rolled her eyes and smiled.

"You can read my thoughts, can you?"

"No, but I know you," Vixenclaw said, voice growing suddenly somber. "We're close, aren't we, Blossomfall?"

"Of course." Blossomfall felt a little jolt of worry at the gleam in Vixenclaw's amber eyes. What sort of confession might be coming on?
"I just think…" Vixenclaw paused, then began to wind her way around Blossomfall like a kit with too much energy. "You don't really need your family, do you? I mean, how much do Millie and Graystripe even care about you?"

Blossomfall's pelt pricked. That was the sort of thing Vixenclaw wasn't supposed to say out loud. But she'd been trying to adjust to some of her dream-friend's more outspoken moments—as Bumblestripe grew more insistent in his pursuit of Dovewing and Millie focused entirely on Briarlight, Blossomfall found herself turning to Vixenclaw more and more for company and friendship. It was best not to kick up a fuss if Vixenclaw made an off-colour comment here or there, surely.

"I'm sorry, but it's true." Vixenclaw's face flashed with disgust. "They're terrible parents. Even if you're difficult to be around sometimes, that's really no excuse when it's your kit."

"I am?" Blossomfall frowned.

Vixenclaw smiled without much warmth. "Sorry, is this a surprise? Blossomfall, you know I'm always happy to see you, but… I can see why other cats don't want to be close to you."

Her breath seemed to come in at the wrong moment and Blossomfall cleared her throat. "What?"

Vixenclaw rolled her eyes. "Forget it."

As they began to run through the forest again, Blossomfall felt a tightness in her chest that she hadn't felt in a long time. Inexplicably, she began to think of her warrior assessment, all those moons ago. Not the part she usually relived, but rather what had happened before the tree fell.

She remembered how Ivypaw's eyes had glowed with anger, remembered her own utterly unprovoked cruelty, and looked at Vixenclaw's tail streaming ahead of her. Why does Vixenclaw like me, then? Perhaps that was one of the things that she shouldn't question, like Vixenclaw's origins. Is that why I care so much about my family? Because they're the only ones who have to love me, because no one else will? Because if I didn't have Briarlight and Bumblestripe and Millie and Graystripe, I'd have… no one?

Eventually the nights where they raced together or talked about their lives—well, Blossomfall's life—ebbed away, replaced with sparring. It began like play-fighting, as if again, Vixenclaw was just too rambunctious. Blossomfall felt protective of her at times, when Vixenclaw's kit-like energy and sharp tongue reminded her too much of Briarlight, and was always careful to go along with what Vixenclaw asked.

It was snowing when Vixenclaw first drew blood from her. Blossomfall remembered because the arc of blood was scarlet and it hissed when it pitted into the snow, the only sound of their surroundings. The leaf-bare forest was very quiet. Blossomfall stared at it, her ear stinging, then looked back at Vixenclaw.

"Oops."

Things were changing between them, Blossomfall sensed, each friendly encounter turning dry and dead, and tumbling to the earth like leaves at the end of green-leaf.

Which, more than anything, made Blossomfall's whole body ache with fear and anticipated loneliness. Vixenclaw was right; Blossomfall didn't have many cats to turn to if her dream-friend vanished. She kept up her efforts to see Briarlight, even as Millie scolded her not to tire her sister out, to spend time with her brother even when it was blindingly obvious he'd rather be with Dovewing, but… it felt as though the whole Clan was slipping away from Blossomfall.

"It's fine," Blossomfall said. She could take a little nick if it meant not making Vixenclaw feel bad. The she-cat seemed to get into moods more and more often, forcing Blossomfall to coax her out in order to have the kind of time together that Blossomfall had begun to depend on.

"I'm bored," Vixenclaw huffed, inspecting her slender paw and then looking at Blossomfall again like it was the tortoiseshell's fault there was nothing interesting to do. "I want to go… Never mind."

"Want to go…" Blossomfall echoed quizzically. Where can she go? Blossomfall had heretofore only seen the she-cat in this dreamy, snowy version of ThunderClan's territory, and had assumed it was the only place she could be. "Where?"

Vixenclaw looked down at her paws again and then back up at Blossomfall in a gesture so similar to Briarlight that Blossomfall's pelt pricked. "There's another place, with more cats, that we can go to in dreams."

Blossomfall cocked her head and stamped down on the jealousy that writhed suddenly in her belly. If there are more cats, then she'll leave me, won't she? "I…"

Vixenclaw sighed as though she could see all those thoughts and feelings on Blossomfall's face. "Well, if you're going to be all clingy and depressing, then I don't want to go. Forget it."

That's even worse. Now I'm stopping her from doing things she wants to do. So Blossomfall swallowed down her discomfort and said, "No, let's go. I'm fine."

Vixenclaw brightened immediately and before Blossomfall could catch her breath or convince herself she really was fine with it, Vixenclaw waved her tail and the world crumbled around them.

Blossomfall sprung back with a yelp of surprise, then dug her claws into the suddenly-moist earth to try to ground herself as their surroundings whirled. Vixenclaw purred at her distress, then padded forward, into the strange, dim light of this new forest. The sky above was a cavernous black, a thin crescent moon its only illuminator. There were no stars.

"I'm fine," Blossomfall murmured to herself. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

"I want to introduce you to someone," Vixenclaw said, bounding ahead toward a distant gathering of cats. Blossomfall's stomach turned at the sight of so many; cats she recognized from Gatherings, others she didn't. Some flicked their tails in greeting. Some ignored her.

"It's a pleasure," the massive brown tabby on the outskirts of the gathering said, his voice low and jagged-edged.

"I'm Blossomfall," she said, and was relieved that he didn't try an overly-familiar nose-touch as a greeting. Something about the deep scars around his eyes and the obvious muscle in his bulky build made her think this wasn't a tom she was eager to buddy up with.

"I know. Vixenclaw's told me all about you." From the penetrating stare he gave her, Blossomfall was certain that was true. "Blossomfall of ThunderClan… Well, welcome to the Place of No Stars."

Blossomfall shivered. That can't be a good sign. "Who are you?"

He smiled with a mouthful of yellow fangs. "Brokenstar."

Blossomfall didn't have time to grapple with that before she was being herded in front of the group. Vixenclaw gave her a look that plainly enough said, Don't mess this up for me.

Brokenstar, subject of nursery tales, the murderous tyrannical kit-killer, announced to the group, "This is Blossomfall of ThunderClan. Some of you know her already. Blossomfall, these are your new Clanmates."

She froze and looked back at Vixenclaw for support. The she-cat shrugged with one shoulder and Blossomfall heard echoes of previous conversations in the movement. You're jealous of your injured sister. You're cruel. What do you expect? StarClan? You're not special. This is where we belong. The only thing that stopped Blossomfall from sprinting into the trees, yowling the whole way, was the 'we' of that sentence.

Maybe that's what I am, she thought, and looked at her 'new Clanmates.'

Maybe this is where I belong, she thought, and spotted Ivypool, who stared back, horrified.

But I'm not alone.

She still managed to be taken by surprise when Brokenstar urged Ratscar to hurl himself at her. The contradictions paralyzed her for a moment as he hooked his claws into her fur—Am I meant to fight him the way Vixenclaw fights me? He's ShadowClan, but Brokenstar just called him my Clanmate. Brokenstar is standing a fox-length away from me!

Ratscar went for the throat and Blossomfall's instincts made the choice for her. She struck out with her back legs, launching him away from her, then got to her feet and dashed at him to strike his side.

Before she could dart out of his range, Ratscar snarled and leapt on her, tackling her to the earth and fastening his jaws into her skin. She let out a wail of surprised pain and began to thrash, praying to StarClan her claws would connect with Ratscar's fur.

Instead, his weight was suddenly torn away from her. Blossomfall gasped, blinking blood out of her eyes and scrambling to her paws. Ratscar turned, careening off-balance as his assailant tossed him to the ground as if he were no heavier than a piece of fresh-kill and then lashed her claws across his ear. Vixenclaw?

"Stop!" Brokenstar snapped.

Ivypool went still, only her chest continuing to heave as she stared down at Ratscar with blazing blue eyes. Blossomfall's heart jumped, and then old, apprentice-age humiliation rose to make her skin itch. She had to save me! I was just taken unawares. She looked around the clearing, praying that no cat was paying too close attention to how she'd needed to be rescued.

Dozens of eyes stared back. The cold, leaf-bare atmosphere of the Dark Forest made it so quiet that Blossomfall could almost hear their silent judgements. The shame flared brighter as Ivypool said,

"I don't see why an apprentice should be lost on her first visit."

I'm not an apprentice! Blossomfall scowled at Ivypool as Brokenstar backed down with a bit-off snarl.

"You didn't have to do that," she hissed, bending to groom the fur where Ratscar's claws had cut into her. "I could have beaten Ratscar in the end."

Ivypool gave her a long, cool look, then turned away.

Blossomfall lashed her tail, feeling angrier with herself than anything; for being too weak to fight off Ratscar on her own, and for snapping again at Ivypool for no reason.

Vixenclaw sidled up. "That was rough. We'll teach you to defend yourself properly." She punctuated the thorn-sharp jibe with a little laugh. "And why are you always so nasty? No cat will be your friend here if you… act like, you know, yourself."

Blossomfall's gaze lingered on Ivypool and she dug her claws into the earth. Well, if they don't sheathe their claws here, then I won't. "Shut up."

Vixenclaw just gave another frosty laugh.

v. After

The fox screamed blood and thrashed pain.

It was bright orange, bright white, snow and diluted blood, and it was going to kill her.

She had seen it in Molepaw and Cherrypaw. She had seen it in the whole Clan. They wanted her dead—they all wanted her dead for what she had done. Even Mousewhisker, Thornclaw, Birchfall, their gazes glinted with iron memories of Blossomfall killing her own mentor. She was one of them, and she was the worst of them.

The fox's flanks heaved.

Ivypool's flanks rose and fell softly as she slept. Ivypool slept peacefully among the traitors. Ivypool dreamed with the monsters.

Blossomfall hurled herself at the fox with all the unbridled panicking fury Vixenclaw had taught her, all that she felt when Hazeltail who had looked out for her, Hazeltail who had told her she was being mean and told her she was going to be a warrior and told her Briarpaw's back was broken, who was deep in the earth, silent forever.

The fox attacked Ivypool and Blossomfall was screaming before she remembered she could speak.

They fought together, blow for blow and backward and forward and blue and orange and stars and darkness, until the fox collapsed into its own blood.

She remembered this.

There was a place she had found in the Great Battle, when the paralyzing fear and the knowledge that every cat wanted to kill her tipped right over the edge into peace.

She had fought side by side with the other cats caught in between and she had killed again. Not her sister and friend, not her mentor, and not her murderer, but other cats she had known. Once Ivypool had told her the truth, that Blossomfall was not only dragging claws through her own heart but participating in the extinction of the Clans… there was no other option.

Blossomfall remembered killing orange and white. The way the whispers drowned out the screams. The way they looked at her.

Ivypool's eyes were blue.

Blossomfall trailed at the back of the patrol as they returned to camp, all soaked with blood and breathing hard. She had never seen Lionblaze's blood before. She remembered him in the battle, roaring golden, she remembered him tearing through a thousand. She remembered waiting for him to break her neck.

They killed a fox. It seemed right. We are not one of you, she thought as they padded into camp. We are not of your kind. We are not your kin. We are the dead things that live in the nest beside yours.

Bramblestar spoke of gratitude, respect, and the utmost loyalty. Blossomfall tilted her head up at him and searched his amber gaze. She had seen him fight. She knew. Bramblestar was still speaking, but the whispers were louder. Ivypool's eyes were blue and the whispers were anxious to be heard, all at once and over top of each other and louder and louder and louder. They were asking her if she was okay after the fight. Was she well? Was she injured? Did the blood that sucked at her paws and choked her belong to her? Did she kill Vixenclaw? Was she a monster?

Blossomfall left camp. She ran, or she walked, or she left her body behind and flew up into the sky. A cat chased her, and a cat did not, and there was someone she had to outrun or they would kill her because they wanted to kill her and she had to run.

She didn't want to die and that was the selfish truth. It would be easier for every cat if she was dead and something inside her clung on anyway.

"Blossomfall!"

The whispers were coming. Vixenclaw was back and she was going to kill her for what she'd done. Ivypaw was hurt. Briarlight was hurt. The wrenched claw on the cave floor hurt, it hurt, and Vixenclaw's words dug deeper, and Millie's words dug deeper, and every last one of them was because of her.

"Blossomfall, stop."

Blossomfall stopped. Maybe she did want to die. Maybe she did want to burn. Maybe that was why she got close to the fire.

"Are you alright?"

Ivypool's eyes were blue.

"What?"

The whispers.

"You're safe."

She was lying.

"I understand."

No, it whispered.

"Just breathe."

Blossomfall did. And she whispered, "I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe."

Ivypool didn't think she was crazy, or Ivypool was crazy, or Ivypool was whispering, "You're safe. You're safe now."

It was a lie or it was saving her. Or it was both. Blossomfall's whole body loosened, exhaustion finally biting down as a frenzy of adrenaline was sucked away. Ivypool pressed her side to Blossomfall's as the she-cat began to collapse.

They stayed there forever or for a heartbeat while Blossomfall breathed and started to see straight again. Ivypool's eyes were blue and full of sympathy or pity or compassion or understanding.

"What happened?"

Blossomfall swallowed but her mouth was dry. "I don't know."

"Okay."

So they stayed there a little longer. Blossomfall looked around. There was a maple tree crowding out the sky; she remembered blue sky. "Do you remember getting lost down the tunnels?"

Ivypool's eyes reflected the sky. "Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I don't know. I have to apologize…" Blossomfall frowned, trying to remember, then said, "Yes. I was mean."

Ivypool snorted. "When?"

"On my assessment. I said you couldn't hunt."

"Oh." Ivypool's forehead crinkled and then she snorted again. "I remember."

"I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted."

Yes, that was a good way to start, Blossomfall thought. An instinct she'd long since quieted spoke up again, telling her to explain everything. No, she decided. No. I won't explain everything. I'll just be sorry and Ivypool will decide if it's enough.

They were silent again, watching white clouds dapple the sky between the maple branches. Blossomfall looked over at Ivypool. Ivypool looked back at her.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

Blossomfall blinked. "What happened… when?"

"In camp," Ivypool prompted. "After Bramblestar's little… spiel."

In an instant, she was back in the place of danger and panic, and in an instant Ivypool covered one paw with hers. Ivypool's paws were small and slender, which was strange for the death they contained, Blossomfall thought. They were soft on hers, only a small pressure asking her to stay and not pinning her and killing her—

"Yes." Blossomfall breathed out and explained. "Every cat wanted to kill me and the whispers wouldn't go away."

And that was supposed to make her run, but it didn't.

Ivypool's eyes were blue and they blinked slowly. "Why did you think they wanted to kill you?"

"Because I heard… I heard them," she murmured. "They don't trust me. And aren't they right, not to? Vixenclaw wanted to kill me so I killed her first. And I'm a danger to them… so they should kill me first."

Ivypool seemed stricken, but she still wasn't running. "Cherrypaw and Molepaw didn't want to kill you. They're just mouse-brained kits; they didn't know any better."

"And every cat else?"

"I don't think they want to kill you, Blossomfall." Ivypool's voice got very quiet. "Some of us miss you. Bumblestripe misses you, I know that. Graystripe and Millie miss you."

It was like she was dragging her rough tongue along an inflamed wound in Blossomfall's skin, and she flinched. "I don't… I can't… I ruined everything."

"No, you didn't," Ivypool said, whisking her tail over the ground with briskness. "You're going to wake up tomorrow, aren't you? You have more moons left in you. There's still time; you haven't ruined everything."

Blossomfall winced. I apologized, she thought. I turned on them. I killed my own mentor. I killed a fox. I mourned Hazeltail. And it is not enough.

Ivypool seemed to perceive she wasn't receptive to the reassurance, and asked, "What about Briarlight?"

Something trembled in her chest. "What about Briarlight?"

"Don't you miss her?" Ivypool tucked her paws under her chest and looked up at the sky again. "I miss Dovewing."

The pieces fell into place. The shards of blue between the maple tree wove together to form Silverpelt. "Oh. Because she…"

Ivypool nodded.

Blossomfall stayed quiet.

"How do you think I knew?" Ivypool said.

Blossomfall shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe I thought it was obvious. Or that you were spying on me." Her voice tilted up with humour for the first time in moons. "That day when we went down to the tunnels… and you were asking all those questions. I wondered why."

Ivypool thought about that for a moment. "I wasn't spying on you, I just… I…"

Blossomfall waited.

"I love the snow," Ivypool eventually said.

Blossomfall blinked.

"I love the snow," she repeated, and stood.

White was drifting down from the sky on a chilly wind, and the first snowflake landed on Ivypool's nose.

"Hm." Blossomfall rested her chin on her paws and thought of everything that came with the season. "I don't think I like it."

Leaf-bare was quiet, and quiet was whispers. Snow was hissing red, and snow was turning to freezing rain in Blossomfall's belly.

"That's strange," Ivypool said, and turned a look down at Blossomfall, in a funny sort of appraising way.

"Why is it strange?"

"Because you're the reason I love the snow." Ivypool's tail flickered back and forth, and she stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake. It was such an odd thing to do in the moment that Blossomfall let out a mrrow of amusement. The snowflakes hitting the ground formed a wall of silence, and it warded off the whispers.

"Really?"

Ivypool tilted her head and smiled down at Blossomfall. "It was snowing when we went down into the tunnels."

"I remember."

Ivypool sniffed and Blossomfall suddenly realized tears were pearling in her eyes. That was strange, very strange, as if Ivypool had cracked her chest open to show her a red-beating heart inside it. As if she didn't think Blossomfall would use it to hurt her. As if safety or trust were possible. "I just… I wasn't going to tell you now. But maybe there's no such thing as the perfect moment. We were in the tunnel and you said… you said you weren't a good cat."

"I remember," Blossomfall said, her voice coming out in a rasp. She had been holding her breath, hadn't she?

"And I said you were."

"You said… 'Of course you are.'"

"And you looked at me like you had never heard anyone say that," Ivypool said softly. Then she shrugged. "In the moment, I thought… I think I'm going to love her."

Blossomfall breathed and then looked up at the snowy sky. It took a moment for her to gather her thoughts—It's time I grew up, it's obvious why cats don't want to be around me, I ruin everything—enough to say, "I'm not easy to love."

"I don't think so," Ivypool said, and smiled like a snowdrop. "I've had an easy time of it so far."

"Why?" Blossomfall's heart was thinning ice, thawing and in danger of shattering. "Why… do you care?"

Ivypool didn't say anything for a long time, eyes tracing the patterns of the snowflakes on their way to the ground. Then she said, "Because I looked at you and I saw a cat who hated herself, and was scared of herself, and felt things she tried so desperately to crush… and I knew her. And I knew she needed me."

Blossomfall opened her mouth but couldn't say what she had thought; that was too intrusive. That was overstepping, and that would make Ivypool uncomfortable.

But Ivypool said what she was thinking. "Because… it was me."

It was easier to love Dovewing when she was brilliant and shining with starlight, and not casting a long shadow over her, wasn't it? Even long after letting go of those feelings for the gray she-cat, Blossomfall remembered the sweeping sense of worship. She gazed at Ivypool, who held on when Blossomfall was cruel and had told her she was good when she'd felt her own evil poisoning her and had shown her the truth.

Still.

"I was awful to you," Blossomfall whispered, the memory of her assessment like a tendril of bramble wrapping around her leg and preventing her from stepping forward.

"Then be kind to me now," she said simply.

Blossomfall breathed out one last time, got to her paws, and pressed her nose to Ivypool's. The she-cat was frozen still, then pressed herself to Blossomfall and twined their tails together. A solid, asking weight against her. A warmth in leaf-bare. I think I'm going to love you, Blossomfall thought. I think we're going to be okay.

iii. Before

Blossomfall didn't know how to kill a cat.

She couldn't imagine that staying up for two days straight and panicking every time any cat spoke to her was the ideal way to go about it, but she didn't have much control over the situation. All she could do was try to stay awake and hope that when she finally collapsed, she wouldn't wake up in the Dark Forest.

Leaf-bare's last snow descended in the space between the two days that Blossomfall was awake. When she saw the white drifts in the camp, for a moment she thought the sleep deprivation had caused hallucinations.

Will this leaf-bare ever end…? she wondered, watching as her Clanmates awoke and stretched. Blossomfall stalked the forest at night when she thought she could get away with it, but was sure to make it back to her den before sunrise. Even when sleep stayed away. She was glad; no cat would visit her if she didn't sleep.

"Blossomfall?" Bumblestripe's concerned mew broke into her directionless musing. "Can you hear me?"

"Huh? Of course," she said, forcing a drowsy tone and pretending to stretch.

"How'd you hurt your leg?" Bumblestripe wove around her nest, his eyes lighting in the kind of overbearing concern he hadn't shown in a long time. A faint memory of being kits and getting a thorn in her paw that her brother quite self-assuredly told her he could 'cure' resurfaced. Blossomfall's eyes stung.

Vixenclaw bit it days ago. Things aren't better now just because he finally noticed, she told herself.

"I don't know," she said. She was too tired to come up with a better excuse.

Bumblestripe frowned and Blossomfall stood to try to not-limp out of the den. He stuck by her side like a burr as she pushed out of the warriors' den, fixing her gaze on Brambleclaw. Once I'm out on patrol... But Hazeltail was just outside the den and jumped to her paws when she saw Blossomfall.

"Blossomfall, are you okay?"

Blossomfall stopped and took a deep breath, hoping her voice came out steady as she said, "Yes, I'm fine."

"I don't think you're fine at all," Hazeltail judged, eyeing Blossomfall.

I should have groomed my fur, she thought, but the idea of trying to bend and twist around just to smooth it now seemed like a monumental feat.

"Hey, Millie! I think Blossomfall is sick." Hazeltail waved her tail to get the attention of Millie as the gray she-cat padded toward the medicine den.

Dread climbed up Blossomfall's back and she flattened her ears, turning away too slowly to miss how Millie's eyes skipped over her ragged fur, bleeding hindleg, and blank, dull stare.

"What? Oh, she's fine. I have to go check on Briarlight."

Blossomfall stayed still and silent. Of course, something whispered to her. The voice sounded so real, and so much like Vixenclaw, as if the she-cat herself were murmuring in Blossomfall's ear that Blossomfall flinched. Of course. Be fine with it. Millie doesn't care about you anymore, don't you know that?

"Blossomfall, I was going to send you to patrol the WindClan border with Bumblestripe, Sandstorm, and Thornclaw," Brambleclaw announced, padding over to her briskly as if to sweep away the silenced shock of Hazeltail and Bumblestripe. "But you don't look as if you could scare off a dead leaf this morning. Your patrol had better go hunting instead."

Blossomfall nodded numbly.

Bumblestripe, seeming to have recovered quickly from seeing his mother ignore his sister's injuries, complained, "I went hunting twice yesterday. I was looking forward to a border patrol."

It was Ivypool who spoke up then, offering to swap patrols with Bumblestripe. Blossomfall watched her with narrowed eyes. What's that about? Was Ivypool mooning over her brother? Would she have another complicated love triangle tangling up her kin?

As they set off, Ivypool fell in step with Blossomfall. Blossomfall fixed her gaze straight ahead, feeling an odd buzzing in pawsteps at the other she-cat's proximity. What does she want?

"Was it tough in the Dark Forest last night?" Ivypool asked quietly.

I wasn't there, Blossomfall thought, and said nothing.

"Were you—?"

"Hush! We can't talk here." Blossomfall sped up, paw pads still pricking. Why does she care?

All through the patrol, Ivypool pushed her. There was an insistence to her that Blossomfall didn't recognize; the most they'd shared was harsh words from Blossomfall and indifference from Ivypool. The thought clung to Blossomfall. Why does she care?

Ivypool's own father was training in the Dark Forest. Birchfall seemed perfectly oblivious to the intentions of the worst monsters the Clans had ever produced, so why wasn't Ivypool pursuing him with a bunch of questions?

Blossomfall was grateful for the distraction from the burning look Ivypool was giving her when they stumbled upon the clearing where Icecloud had fallen into the tunnel entrance.

"Hold on!" she called.

Ivypool was indeed distracted, eyes gleaming with excited curiosity as she took in the dark, debris-covered entrance. She looked at Blossomfall and cocked her head. Blossomfall felt an odd jolt in her chest.

"Shall we?" Ivypool asked.

Mouth suddenly dry, Blossomfall nodded. Getting lost down the tunnels with a cat intent on interrogating me sounds like a great way to get my mind off my assessment. She went down first, testing each step with half-shaking paws.

Crrrack!

Blossomfall's heart seized when she heard Ivypool's cut-off yowl of surprise and fear as the branch collapsed under her. Ivypool tumbled into the tunnel and Blossomfall darted to her side, softening her fall onto the packed dirt of the tunnel floor.

"We're stuck!" Ivypool breathed, staring up at the shard of blue sky where they'd entered.

Blossomfall gulped down her fear and looked back into the darkness of the tunnels. With the worry of getting out gone, she felt like a new apprentice, exploring the territory again. Before everything else. "Now we have to keep going."

"But it's dangerous!" Ivypool exclaimed.

That's never stopped you before. Blossomfall looked back at her, strange anger bubbling up inside her. Why do you care?! "What's the worst that can happen? We might lose the use of our legs?"

It seemed as though every time Blossomfall was nasty, Ivypool insisted on maintaining her cool-calm-and-collected demeanor. The she-cat gave her a long look and said nothing. Blossomfall shrank with embarrassment. If only to chase away the last thing she'd said, she commented,

"There's no point in going back. We might wait for ages for some cat to pass by the hole. And when they do, we'll get into major trouble. There must be another way out, right?"

Ivypool just gave her another silent, unreadable look. Blossomfall shifted. Perhaps it was the sleep-deprivation talking, but Ivypool's eyes almost seemed to shift with colour in the gloom, from the slate-blue of a leaf-bare sky to the deep blue-green of the lake on a sunny day. For such expressive eyes, they were remarkably difficult to read.

They padded in silence and Blossomfall forced herself not to make nervous conversation or whisper comforts to herself. It was quiet down there, but not quite as quiet as a leaf-bare forest, Blossomfall thought. The tranquility when the snow was falling, each inaudible drop forming a blanket of silence, was unmatched. Down in the tunnels, it almost seemed like there were just-out-of-earshot whispers being echoed around and bounced back to the two of them.

Blossomfall glanced at Ivypool, tempted to ask her if she heard them too. Then she decided not to. No need to make her think I'm crazy.

"I can feel a tiny draft of air," she said eventually, her voice hoarse from disuse. "That should lead us to a way out."

"We're getting somewhere!" Ivypool exclaimed.

They continued to explore, finding a large room with a pool of water and strange pawprints around the water's edge. Ivypool seemed to be growing antsy.

"We have to get out of here!" the she-cat finally muttered.

"We're only exploring." Blossomfall sniffed the indents in the dirt. Nothing. Whatever cat had left them must have left a long time ago. That, or they smelled like Ivypool. "We're not doing any harm."

"Well, it doesn't feel like that," Ivypool retorted, beginning to pace. "It feels like we're trespassing, and I want to leave."

Blossomfall blinked. This was the most worked up she'd seen her Clanmate in a while. Maybe she's claustrophobic. "Okay, let's find a way out."

They searched the tunnels that all looked the same, eventually splitting up to try to cover more of the dark cavern. Blossomfall felt oddly disrupted by the loss of Ivypool. The echoey whispers seemed louder.

I don't suppose that's StarClan telling me how to find my way out, she thought, peering into the darkness. It was disorienting; she could hardly tell which way she had been walking. Actually, she couldn't tell at all.

Blossomfall stopped dead, then tentatively stepped forward.

And hit rock. She winced at the pressure on a tender shoulder, and her heart lurched as she heard the trickle of stones moving. Then something solid and painful crashed into her head and Blossomfall toppled to the ground.

For an instant, she saw the Dark Forest. Vixenclaw loomed over her prone body, lips drawn back in a furious hiss. "Come back, Blossomfall! Where have you been?"

Blossomfall recoiled. No! I can't be here!

"Don't leave, Blossomfall." Vixenclaw's voice dropped, her amber stare growing so intense that Blossomfall thought she could feel it burrowing into her skin, into her ears, into her belly. "We're all you have. You don't want to be alone, do you?"

And then the world was plunged into darkness again as Blossomfall reeled away. The whispers were getting louder, crashing overtop each other like the rush of water until Blossomfall couldn't see or hear or—

"Blossomfall?"

Blossomfall heaved a gasp, trying to focus on Ivypool's voice. "Ivypool?" Her head throbbed with the effort of speaking, pain lancing along the left side. She blinked in the darkness. No Vixenclaw. "What happened? My head hurts."

"I think a rock fell from the roof and hit you," Ivypool replied. "Can you get up?"

How can she be so calm? The whispers trickled back in as Blossomfall tried to stand, her paws sliding under her like the floor was covered in a thin layer of ice. How is she always calm?

She crumpled to the floor again, heart racing. "Everything's whirling. Oh, Ivypool, do you think we're going to die down here?"

She shouldn't say that; Ivypool was already apprehensive about exploring the tunnels, and possibly claustrophobic. She shouldn't make her anxious, shouldn't do anything to make it worse, shouldn't do anything to chase her off—but all Ivypool said was "Of course we're not."

And maybe it was Ivypool's unshakeable calm, or her lake-sky eyes, or her place in the Dark Forest and the way she asked if Blossomfall was alright and didn't get distracted from her injuries when Brambleclaw assigned her to the wrong patrol... Whatever the reason it spilled from Blossomfall.

"But what if we do? Do you think Millie will miss me?"

The words dangled like stones dropped from great height in the silence. Blossomfall could barely make out Ivypool's round eyes in the gloom.

"Of course!" Ivypool said, as if missing and caring about Blossomfall was the most natural thing in the world. "Millie loves you just as much as Briarlight."

I didn't say anything about Briarlight, Blossomfall thought, shame searing her. I guess it's that easy to tell, huh? "Maybe Millie loves me, when she remembers that she has more than one kit."

The bitterness in her voice was enough to make her angry. But of course Briarlight needs more attention and care than I do. What kind of warrior still needs her mother fussing over her? She scored her claws over the stone, ignoring the stabbing pain of her torn claw catching on the stone.

"I hate myself for feeling jealous of Briarlight," she said quietly and stared at the thin dark line of blood her claw had left. "I can't bear seeing her suffer and I know Briarlight would give anything to be better and whole again. It's all so unfair!"

Don't put this on Ivypool, she told herself, scraping her claw over the stone again. Being needy is what got me into this mess.

It escaped anyway.

"But I can't help what I feel, and that proves I'm not a good cat."

She clenched her teeth and looked off into the darkness, hoping Ivypool wouldn't voice the thought she was doubtlessly having about Blossomfall. Well, why shouldn't she tell me I'm awful? I've been nasty enough to her. I certainly deserve some cat being mean to me, at least.

"Of course you are!" Ivypool's mew took her by surprise, but Blossomfall could hardly hear her. The whispers had gotten louder without her noticing, like moss being shuffled around by her ears. She swallowed dryly.

"No. A good cat wouldn't be jealous of an injured littermate. So that's why I've ended up in the Dark Forest." She gave Ivypool a sidelong glance. "I'm not stupid. I know it's where cats go if they're not allowed into StarClan. But I guess I won't get into StarClan either, because I hate my sister for being injured. So the Dark Forest is where I fit in, and I'm getting good training, better than anything we get here." She took in a long, shaking breath and looked around. "Will Hawkfrost come to get us, do you think?"

"I told you, we're not going to die!" The fierceness of her tone made Blossomfall flinch. Ivypool softened her voice and bent to put her shoulder beneath Blossomfall's. "Blossomfall, do you think you could try again to get up?"

"Maybe," Blossomfall whispered and leaned on Ivypool as the she-cat helped her up. She was surprised to find Ivypool's shoulder soft—she would have expected pure muscle. It took great effort not to stumble when Ivypool pulled away.

A ginger and white shadow flashed at the edge of her vision. She bit off a shriek, then nearly collapsed when she realized it was a tom. Still, she kept her jaws tightly shut as Ivypool spoke to the stranger. Blossomfall could hardly focus on the tom in front of them. The world was slipping away from her again.

I'm so tired, she thought, the days seeming to very suddenly catch up to her. The whispers fuzzed in her ears, blending with the ginger and white stranger in front of her to form a strange, warped Vixenclaw.

You don't want to be alone, do you?

The whispers sounded like her. Blossomfall closed her eyes and waited for them to vanish. Ivypool's voice was like a steady birdsong over the falling snow.

"Come on. Let's get moving," Ivypool was murmuring to her as Blossomfall returned to the stone cavern.

The directions the ginger and white tom had given them seemed worse than useless; within moments, they were back in the main cavern with the pool.

"I don't believe this!" Blossomfall felt her paws give out and she dropped to the stone floor, filled with despair. I can't stay down here with the whispers! "We'll never get out."

Ivypool scowled out at the darkness like it was turning them around on purpose.

"I'm sorry," Blossomfall whispered. "This is all my fault. I was the one who wanted to come down here." I ruined everything again. If I die down here, that'll really be it.

"I could have stopped you," Ivypool said.

Blossomfall snorted. "How? By hanging on to my tail?"

Rather than frowning at Blossomfall's sarcasm, Ivypool's eyes flashed with amusement and she puffed a laugh. For a heartbeat, Blossomfall felt like she hadn't been awake for two days and hit in the head with a rock.

"Come on! What are you waiting for?" a strange voice exclaimed out of the shadows.

Blossomfall froze and stared at Ivypool, trying to gauge whether the other she-cat had heard the voice. Ivypool's ears pricked and she turned around. Blossomfall let out a breath of relief. Just whispers, no voices, she thought. Just murmurs. Not talking to myself. Just training, not hurting any cat.

They followed the second stranger out, Ivypool silently supporting Blossomfall as she limped along, and finally, finally, they were out in the snowy forest again.

She didn't think she could be as relieved as she was when they finally laid eyes on blue sky again; well, one eye, in Blossomfall's case. The other seemed to have swollen shut after the rock. The whispers of the tunnel ebbed and Blossomfall collapsed to the ground, too tired to lift a paw.

Plunk.

Ivypool dropped a bundle of wet moss in front of her.

Blossomfall stuck her muzzle into it, sucking the water out and savouring the cold feeling on her muzzle. The cold leaf-bare air was welcome for once, as was the silence it brought. "Thanks," she finally rasped.

Ivypool seemed almost embarrassed. "Yeah, no problem." Then she looked up at the sky again, paws shifting.

Huh. Ivypool's odd shift in demeanor was too tiring to contemplate. Right now, they needed to get back to camp. Blossomfall forced herself upright again even as her head spun, and they started limping in the direction of ThunderClan scent.

Millie was angry when they returned, but it was better than indifference, Blossomfall figured. She held her mother's gaze wordlessly as Millie snapped, "It's time you grew up, Blossomfall, and started to behave like a proper warrior."

Sandstorm, Brackenfur, Whitewing, and even Thornclaw seemed surprised by Millie's venom. Blossomfall was too tired to even feel glad that some cat was noticing how Millie spoke to her. It had to happen eventually. No cat would step in, though.

"Your mother doesn't mean it..." Ivypool murmured to her as Millie stalked off.

Blossomfall huffed disbelievingly. Oh, really? Why would she say it, then? "Whatever." She couldn't help watching Millie as she carefully pulled out a fat piece of fresh-kill and laid it at Briarlight's feet, as if any movement might make the she-cat shatter. "This is just the way it is now. I'd better get used to it. At least I get noticed in the Dark Forest."

Ivypool stared at her, a mix of distress and pity churning in her eyes. Blossomfall looked away.

Still, that roiling blue stare was fixed in Blossomfall's mind as she curled up in her nest to wait for her Clanmates to fall asleep. Millie's words circled as well. It's time you grew up. Grow up. They mingled with Vixenclaw's. If you're going to be clingy… What did you expect? StarClan? No cat will be your friend here if you… act like, you know, yourself.

Millie's indifference and Vixenclaw's cruelty were nothing new. She'd felt both cut deep before. Yet somehow, Ivypool's searching gaze brimmed above them, as if she were speaking to Blossomfall. Of course you're a good cat! Ivypool was simply saying that because she didn't know Blossomfall, though. If she hung around long enough to truly get to know her, Blossomfall was certain Vixenclaw was right.

I can see why other cats don't want to be close to you.

The words struck Blossomfall like blows, knocking her deep into sleep before she could think to unsheathe her claws and stay conscious for one more night. I can't do it anymore, she thought. I can't do it. They're going to take me to the Dark Forest… where I belong… and I'm going to have another assessment. Dread sunk deep.

You're not special. This is where we belong.

Furious tears burned in Blossomfall's eyes when she stumbled to her paws in the Dark Forest. I'm not taking it anymore, she thought. If I belong here, I'll carve out my own space. If I'm an awful cat, then I'll give them what they want. I'll give her what she wants.

Vixenclaw came to her immediately, raking a scornful look over her. "You look terrible."

Blossomfall returned her gaze dully.

"Couldn't just stay away?" A sneer lit Vixenclaw's face. "One or the other, Blossomfall. Be the perfect little ThunderClan warrior and be alone, or stay with us."

Blossomfall took a deep breath and hoped the whispers might come back to silence Vixenclaw.

"We're all you have," Vixenclaw whispered.

Ivypool was standing a little ways off with Tigerheart and Hollowflight. She'll still be there when I wake up, she thought.

"You're no better than I am," Vixenclaw whispered.

Blossomfall's claws slid out. Vixenclaw smiled with gleaming teeth and asked,

"Are you ready for your assessment?"

The cats gathered around the jagged, crumbling cliff that Brokenstar used as a meeting place. Blossomfall looked up at him and he returned her stare with a glitter of understanding in his gaze. That can't be a good sign, she thought again. I might be spiteful and cowardly and cruel but I won't hurt cats that can't hurt me back.

And who could hurt her more than Vixenclaw?

Brokenstar lashed his tail for silence. Blossomfall was utterly still, only her heart thumping in her chest. She could feel Ivypool's blue eyes on her. We'll see what she thinks after this. She has to find out who I really am sooner or later. She wasn't anxious anymore.

"Blossomfall, is it your wish to become a true Clanmate of the Dark Forest?" Brokenstar's voice was softer than it had been in previous ceremonies. The hissing of an adder, Blossomfall thought. "To fight for us against any enemy and to never hesitate to deliver a killing blow?"

Blossomfall looked around at the trainees with their mentors. Mostly young cats with shining eyes and bloody scratches. How can they believe? How are they not hearing this? Any enemy means each other. They'll kill us all.

Then she turned her gaze to Vixenclaw, whose eyes gleamed with prospective bloodshed. They both knew what Blossomfall would have to do now to prove her oath true. She's been trying to kill me all this time, Blossomfall thought. She poisons me every night. She packs me deep under the earth in the tunnels and she whispers in my ears. She wants me dead. I suppose it's only polite to return the favour.

She didn't look at Ivypool.

"Yes."

"Then choose your opponent," Brokenstar hissed.

Blossomfall closed her eyes for a moment as whispers wreathed around her. Bets being taken by her 'Clanmates' or perhaps more poison from a phantom of Vixenclaw. She would put that ghost to rest.

"Vixenclaw of the Place of No Stars."

The whispers were louder now.

Her Clanmates realizing that Blossomfall wasn't one of them, she was much, much worse. Her Clanmates realizing that Blossomfall intended to kill her own mentor. Realizing she was severing ties. Ivypool seeing her for what she was. Vixenclaw's deeper bite. Her chest pulsed.

Blossomfall listened.

Brokenstar seemed to miss a beat, then growled, "Very well. Vixenclaw, come forward. The fight will be to the death. Blossomfall, we hope that you prove yourself. On my mark."

Vixenclaw wasn't surprised. Vixenclaw was surprised. Vixenclaw was venom and writhing and indifferent to the injuries she'd scored into Blossomfall's skin and now she was going to finish the job.

Blossomfall breathed in and then attacked first. Brokenstar had either given the commencing yowl or he hadn't, but he didn't stop her now.

What does Vixenclaw want? Blossomfall wondered vaguely. She waited politely as Vixenclaw dug her claws into Blossomfall's belly, and then clamped her jaws around her old friend's neck. Does she want to die? She crunched harder, through her sister's voice and thought, Why would she build me out of fire if she didn't want to burn?

"Blossomfall!"

Blossomfall froze. Why were they shouting at her? She wasn't tiring out Briarlight. She was just trying to be a good sister. She hardly even liked Dovewing anymore, Bumblestripe had nothing to worry about. It was just a kit-hood crush and it was just a visit to the medicine den and she was just trying to hurt until nothing hurt. Ivypool's eyes were blue in the crowd. Watching.

They were chanting her name and Blossomfall had nothing between her teeth anymore. Nothing in her ears anymore. She relished the silence of their cries and took in the leaf-bare air for the first time in moons. The peace of it all. She would never hear it again, would she?

But when she woke up, the silent forest was whispering. Vixenclaw was gone and she was back.

vi. After

Ivypool was easy to love.

She made loving Blossomfall seem like it was easy, too, which was strange to Blossomfall. That wasn't to say that there was no awkward period in their relationship, certainly. Blossomfall knew Ivypool in some ways, and found her utterly alien in others. She would rest her muzzle on Ivypool's shoulder and accidentally knock her completely off-balance, or Ivypool would try to tenderly lick her ear and nearly plant her tongue on Blossomfall's eye.

Blossomfall treasured them, as awkward and embarrassing as they often were. It felt like the apprenticehood mooning that she'd never fully realized. After the Great Battle, she'd had a lingering feeling that the Dark Forest had poisoned her, had stolen her youth and innocence, and that she would never be able to get them back. Her crushes hadn't been very successful within her apprenticeship, either. Dovewing and Toadstep weren't as inclined to stare at her as much as she liked to stare at them.

Sometimes Blossomfall caught Ivypool staring at her as she was explaining something, or dragging out bedding, or bringing her prey. She treasured that too.

As the snow melted, Blossomfall found the whispers were muffled by the birdsong as had been normal in past seasons. New was the way that Ivypool's low, somewhat raspy voice also kept them out.

Blossomfall wasn't afraid to curl up and sleep anymore, with Ivypool nestled next to her; the sleep helped too, she thought. She began to take care of herself again, in a way she hadn't before. Each piece of drinking water, eating twice a day, grooming both before her day and before she slept, had fallen apart a long time ago, so slowly that she'd never really noticed.

The seasons turned into gold and green, and Blossomfall felt her life spilling out before her like a long shadow to curl up in the sun's heat.

"I'm going to talk to Dovewing today," Ivypool murmured as they were curled up together in the dawn light. Blossomfall had begun to rise earlier. Each day felt more like something to be relished than a burden to bear. Her family was alive and so was she, and no more beasts with teeth stalked her dreams. They could breathe again.

"Oh?" Blossomfall frowned at the squirrel they were sharing. "Are you sure you've eaten enough?"

Ivypool let out a rusty mrrow. "There's enough prey for every cat, Blossomfall. If I get hungry again later, I'll eat again."

Blossomfall squinted at her, privately thinking Ivypool could do to add a little fat to her bones, but subsided and returned to their earlier topic. "Talk to her about… anything in particular?"

"No." Ivypool's shoulders moved against Blossomfall as the silver-and-white she-cat shrugged. "I just… I've been missing her for a long time, but it felt too… recent." Blossomfall hummed, knowing the feeling too well. "It's been long enough, though. I just want to spend some time with her like we used to."

Blossomfall swallowed hard. "That sounds nice."

Ivypool gazed at her and Blossomfall kept her own eyes drifting over the horizon. The tips of the trees were turning pinkish-saffron in the dawn light. The sky was slate-blue. "You could go see Briarlight today."

I could, Blossomfall thought. Briarlight was probably still sleeping peacefully in the medicine den. The green-cough that had torn through the camp hadn't taken her sister, by some blessing of StarClan. Grief throbbed in Blossomfall's heart as she remembered the morning after Hazeltail hadn't made it through the night.

She pressed back the memory of helplessness and looked back at the slanted rock that formed the entrance to the medicine den. And how long will I have with Briarlight? Shouldn't I try to rebuild our relationship while we're both still here? Then again… what's changed?

Millie's words echoed. Blossomfall's deluge of confessions after the Great Battle to her sister, Briarlight's pity and sympathy and—

Blossomfall shook them off. It's worth whatever Millie wants to snap at me. I want to see my sister. Blossomfall bit her tongue. Even if it means remembering how pathetic…

"Good," Ivypool rasped, seeming to see the choice in Blossomfall's eyes. "I'm glad."

Once the whole Clan had woken, Squirrelflight organizing the patrols and the elders coming out to enjoy the dewy sunshine, Blossomfall sought out her sister. Briarlight's eyes lit up when she saw Blossomfall and guilt heavy as boulders dropped into Blossomfall's stomach. How could I ever have felt unloved with my sister still alive and near me?

Blossomfall kept those thoughts to herself, and simply rested her muzzle on her sister's shoulder, breathing in her familiar scent of their family, Jayfeather, herbs, and moss. A tension unwound in Blossomfall's belly and for a moment, she could breathe easier.

"Just the cat I wanted to see," Briarlight said when Blossomfall pulled away to properly look at her sister. Her eyes glimmered with amusement as she added, "My favourite sister."

Blossomfall purred and padded slowly with her sister out of the camp. This new-leaf was already promising a fruitful green-leaf; the forest chirped with activity. Just by meandering along, Blossomfall slammed her paw down on a shifting patch of leaf-litter and hooked out a stunned chipmunk.

She killed it quickly then pawed it to Briarlight. "Here. I dragged you out before you got a chance to eat, you should have it."

"You caught it," Briarlight said.

"But I've already eaten. It's for you. Eat it."

Briarlight jabbed a paw into Blossomfall's ribs, making her sister yelp. "Bossy-paws."

"You're such a pest," Blossomfall retorted, hopping out of striking distance.

"I'm your favourite sister, though," Briarlight mumbled through a bite of chipmunk.

Blossomfall sighed and shook her head, still watching carefully to make sure Briarlight ate her fill.

"Satisfied?" Briarlight sat up and swiped her tongue over her jaws.

Blossomfall thought Briarlight could do to put on some weight as well, but she nodded.

With another lick of her lips, Briarlight announced, "Now let's go! I want to drink from the lake. The moss-water is never as fresh."

Blossomfall purred, following her sister as Briarlight set off with renewed enthusiasm. In a world that had once felt hostile and stranger, Blossomfall shared her sister's enjoyment of small things. There was a pool of freshwater in the medicine den. Maybe a long walk was what they needed.

As they padded side by side, Briarlight asked, "How are you and Mom?"

Blossomfall sighed, scraping her claws through the dirt as she walked. "I… what do you mean?"

Briarlight shot her a look.

With a wince, she added, "I mean… we're…" And trailed off again.

Which earned her another prod to the ribs.

"I don't know!" Blossomfall exclaimed, then felt her tail drop to the ground and drag behind her. "I don't know, really. I haven't… I mean… you remember everything I told you after the Great Battle."

"Of course," Briarlight said, the old sympathy welling in her blue gaze. Blossomfall winced.

"I just… feel like maybe it's better if I don't try to… fix everything there."

They walked in silence a little longer, listening to the conversations the birds were having above them, then Briarlight said, "I understand. But if you did want things to be different…?"

It hung between them until Blossomfall murmured, "I don't know if that's possible."

"Time heals most wounds, Blossomfall," Briarlight said gently, nudging her. "If it were possible, would you want to try?"

They had come to the lake. It sparkled bright azure in the new-leaf sun, like a thousand crystals of ice floating on the surface and dazzling them in the light. Blossomfall looked at it, and thought of the ice that had melted to bring the water to the place where it lapped at the shoreline.

"Yes," she said.

Briarlight's answering smile was as bright as the sunny lake. Then her sister said, "So, you and Ivypool, huh?"

Blossomfall's fur burned.

In the coming moons of relationship-reparation, Blossomfall wasn't sure where to start. After remembering the early stumbles she'd made it through with Ivypool, though, she decided that pressing past the discomfort was the only way to make progress. So she did what she always did when conversation was too difficult; she started hunting for her mother, bringing back as many thrushes as she could find. Millie began accepting them around the fourth or fifth.

Briarlight offered her a spot in the glen where Millie, Graystripe, Bumblestripe, and Briarlight sat to share their dinners. Blossomfall declined. That was too far, for now. Still, Ivypool murmured to her as they ate together one evening that she'd seen Millie with one of Blossomfall's thrushes, and that she thought Blossomfall was very brave for making an effort.

Blossomfall wasn't sure how much bravery could be counted in such tiny kit-steps, but still; she'd keep walking forward until Millie told her to stop.

Things were easier in new-leaf. The ice melted, and the deep wounds that Blossomfall felt when she saw her mother began to close up, soothed by time, just as her sister had said. The relationship began to warm.

Blossomfall wasn't expecting an apology, really. The most she hoped for was love in Millie's eyes when she looked at her daughter and no more rebukes when Blossomfall went to see Briarlight.

That was why she was taken by surprise one morning, late that new-leaf, when she came back to camp with Ivypool and saw Briarlight and Millie sharing tongues in the camp. She and Ivypool settled down, and though Blossomfall tried to focus on Ivypool, she couldn't help her gaze sliding back to Millie.

Millie also seemed to be glancing at her other daughter, though less anxiously and more… distrustingly. Blossomfall's stomach lurched and she reflexively pushed the vole she'd caught while they were out closer to Ivypool.

"Did you eat this morning?"

Ivypool sighed and rested her head on Blossomfall's side. "I am not currently starving."

"You should take care of yourself," Blossomfall murmured.

"But you're already doing such a good job," Ivypool snorted, and even if she was teasing, Blossomfall's chest bloomed with a little warmth. It was nice to think that she might be at the point where she could start taking care of the cats around her, instead of just barely keeping her own head above water each day.

"Is it just me, or does my mom keep sort of glaring at me?" Blossomfall mumbled. If Ivypool was going to think she was crazy, it would have happened moons ago.

"Not just you," Ivypool answered, peering at Millie. "I think… hm. Oh, now she's getting up."

They watched and pretended to be busy doing something else as Millie hauled herself to her paws and crossed the camp toward them. Blossomfall didn't bother pulling away from Ivypool like she sometimes did around Millie; she knew Millie didn't really approve of her hanging around the other Dark Forest trainees, but it was far too late to try to convince her mother that she and Ivypool were casual acquaintances.

"Blossomfall," Millie rasped. "Can we talk?"

Blossomfall exchanged a bewildered look with Ivypool who shrugged, as if to say, Now's your chance. Despite the apprehension suddenly chilling her paws, Blossomfall stood and flicked her ear. "Sure."

So they did. Well, Millie did, mostly. Blossomfall walked alongside her elderly mother, leashing every impulse to ask Millie if she needed Blossomfall to slow down or she wanted to stop for a moment and catch her rasping breath.

"I want to apologize," Millie said quietly.

Blossomfall froze, missing a step and nearly landing on her muzzle. "What?! Why?" Did Briarlight ask her to do this? Embarrassment flooded Blossomfall's pelt. She didn't tell Mom everything I told her after the Great Battle, did she?

Millie sighed, a noise like a leaf-bare wind through bracken. Jayfeather had passed along to Blossomfall through Briarlight that Millie's lungs were likely going to worsen in the coming seasons. "Briarlight told me that you felt sometimes as though I didn't care about you, after your sister got hurt," she said plainly.

Blossomfall shrank in her pelt.

"And I know that's not true, because I did care about you." Millie's jaw tightened, then loosened, and she sighed heavily again. "But I'm sorry if you ever felt as though I didn't."

Blossomfall squinted at the earth in front of them. Small green shoots were poking out among the soil. She'd have to be careful not to step on them while they were growing.

Millie was looking at her. Blossomfall didn't return her mother's stare, trying to sort out her thoughts enough to think of what to say to her mother. Eventually, she settled on, "Yes. I felt… like you stopped loving me. I was so jealous of Briarlight, even though I knew—"

"I didn't stop loving you!" Millie exclaimed. "I just had to put Briarlight first."

Blossomfall ducked her head. "I know, Mom. But sometimes I have trouble… keeping the lines between what's true and how I feel clear."

Millie's brow furrowed.

She thinks I'm crazy, Blossomfall thought. "I mean… it was hard."

"Why did you join the Dark Forest, Blossomfall?" Millie's mew was too pointed for new-leaf. Blossomfall shook her head.

"I'm not going to talk about that."

Her mother's eyes flashed with stubbornness, then she seemed to master it and said, "Alright. And you and Ivypool…"

Blossomfall huffed. "We're planning on resurrecting all the evil ghosts so we can lead an insurgency against the Clans."

Millie didn't enjoy sarcasm as much as Ivypool.

"No, Mom, we're just… trying to be happy," Blossomfall sighed. "And I want us all to be happy. That's why I've been…"

"Been bringing me all these thrushes?" Millie's eyes flashed with humour and Blossomfall took the chance, grateful.

"Yeah. You still like them, don't you?"

Millie snorted. "Yes. It was the first thing I caught myself when your father taught me to hunt."

"He brought us one once, in the nursery," Blossomfall murmured. "I remember. You told us the story, and when you saved Dad from a kittypet."

Millie rasped a purr. "I told you that one when you were kits? Great StarClan. I hope I didn't go into detail. That was a rough fight."

Blossomfall purred as well, remembering how Bumblekit's whiskers had quivered with fear. She'd smoothed his fur and told him it was only a story, and not to be worried, because their mother was the fiercest cat in the Clan.

And she got her wish. Millie gave her a warm look, and they walked on into the forest together. Blossomfall stepped carefully over the shoots.

Blossomfall was quite sure a perfect life was impossible. Certainly impossible for her; no perfect life would contain memories of a fox that whispered or dreams with teeth. Things weren't ruined, though. Graystripe had taught her that, hadn't she?

Still, as leaf-bare returned, the quiet forest invited in things Blossomfall would rather have forgotten. When she woke one morning to a white forest, she heard them again. They were quieter; she could still hear her Clanmates. She could still hear her thoughts. But she could hear the whispers.

She wanted to shred something at the unfairness of it all. It's supposed to be over! I'm supposed to be okay!

What option did she have, but to carry on as if all was normal, though? Briarlight was still there. Millie was warming. Ivypool was beside her. Vixenclaw was dead and gone and still. Whispering.

A muffled cry died in Blossomfall's throat. She stood from her nest, ignoring her ruffled pelt and left the warriors den. She needed—what would help? She needed help. She needed solitude or peace or silence or a place where nothing whispered.

The forest wasn't offering that. Silence was a trap.

Leaf-bare was silent and full of whispers and full of Vixenclaw's words and full of what Millie said wasn't true and what Briarlight didn't want and what her Clanmates really thought of her and what Ivypool was even bothering with and what was she doing alive when she knew where she'd end up and why did she try and why did she try and why did she care and why was she still there and why was the forest so quiet and so loud?

She ran and walked through the forest to escape to the place where her pads stung from the cold and thought.

She didn't know how she found her and she didn't know why she was looking.

"Blossomfall."

This was happening over again. Would she drag her out so she could fall back in? What's different this time?

"I'm sorry," Blossomfall said. Her voice was insubstantial as cobwebs and a promise of future happiness. "It keeps happening," Blossomfall said. Her heart was breaking. "I can't get out," Blossomfall said. Her head hurt.

"It's alright. Just breathe," Ivypool said.

Would she be angry that Blossomfall kept falling apart? How many times would it happen before she gave up?

"I'm sorry," Blossomfall repeated.

"Maybe you should talk to Jayfeather," Ivypool offered quietly.

The whispers clustered. Blossomfall shook her head to clear them. "Maybe," she said.

They dragged at her paws as she and Ivypool padded through the snow. They were lying to her or Ivypool was lying to her. The battle was over, wasn't it? Her Clan trusted her now, didn't they?

Blossomfall looked around at the forest. It was quiet. The first patrols wouldn't be out for a little longer. Blood would be red on the snow. Someone would find her if she died. It would take a lot to hide her now. Millie and Briarlight would notice, wouldn't they?

She stopped, ending her track of pawprints. Ivypool looked back at her with blue eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Blossomfall shivered under her thick pelt and asked, "Are you going to kill me?"

She was supposed to run at that. Be shocked, at least, call Blossomfall crazy, at least, give up, at least. "No," Ivypool said, and paused for a moment before she closed the distance between them. Her paws crunched in the snow. "I'm not. I love you, Blossomfall, and I don't ever want to hurt you."

Trust was a lie, or was it?

"I'm sorry!" She wanted to explain again. She wanted to break her head open so every little whisper and memory might flood out, so Ivypool would see that she didn't want to be destroyed, she was just destroying herself. She wasn't burning, she was full of fire that wouldn't go out no matter how hard she pushed her head under water.

Ivypool shook her head. "It's alright, Blossomfall. Just breathe now. And we're going to go back to camp so you can talk to Jayfeather. He knows how to help." Ivypool, calm Ivypool, steady Ivypool, Ivypool with a tempered answer when Blossomfall fell apart.

Blossomfall was shaking when they returned. The camp was abuzz, and that was supposed to keep out the whispers. Ivypool kept up a raspy, murmury stream of comfort in her ear, and that was going to keep out the whispers. And the forest was white and the forest was silent but the camp wasn't and trust wasn't a lie.

The medicine den was quiet and smelled like Briarlight. The heavy rock overhead muffled the sounds. A trickle of water in the pool of freshwater. The dip, the nest where Hazeltail had—

"Blossomfall?" Jayfeather's ears pricked as she padded into the den, Ivypool at her back. He turned, fixing a blind blue stare on her, and cocked his head. "What's wrong?"

Her paw pads stung on the cold floor. Blossomfall fluffed out her fur and said, "Could I… talk to you?"

Ivypool touched her nose to Blossomfall's ear, then retreated from the den. Blossomfall sat in an empty nest and Jayfeather flicked his tail for her to speak.

"Well?"

She swallowed. Where were you supposed to start, with this? "I'm… crazy."

Jayfeather cocked his head.

"I hear things that aren't really there," Blossomfall whispered. "Mostly whispers. It started… a long time ago. And then other stuff happened, too, I guess." What was true? Ivypool didn't want to kill me, but Berrynose… Toadstep… no cat trusted us. Do they trust us now? I didn't ruin everything. Millie loved me. Was I crazy to think she didn't? "I believed… things that weren't true."

Jayfeather's eyes widened. "Weren't you… I remember…" He frowned in thought, then said, "What sorts of things did you believe?"

Blossomfall scraped her claw through the dirt. "That… cats wanted to hurt me."

The blind medicine cat leaned closer. "Your Clanmates?"

"Yes."

Jayfeather didn't call her crazy either. "For how long?"

"Since the Great Battle."

Jayfeather's tail flicked, surprise evident in his eyes. "How… why didn't you come see me sooner?"

"I thought…" Blossomfall's voice died in her throat. She shrugged. Then said, "I don't know."

"It happens to some cats," Jayfeather rumbled. "They see things that aren't there, or hear things, or believe things that aren't true."

Blossomfall's stomach dropped. "So I'm crazy."

"No," Jayfeather said. "No, not crazy. But I've seen—I imagine it's hard to live like that."

Blossomfall huffed a caustic laugh. "That's putting it mildly."

"You're not alone, Blossomfall." Jayfeather's blind gaze roved over her. "And you're not the only cat in the history of the Clans who's been through this. I thought I'd never need to use it, but there are treatments to help ground your mind."

Because I'm crazy, Blossomfall thought. "I know it's not real, but that… I just can't…"

"Just because it's not happening in the world doesn't mean it's not happening in your mind," Jayfeather rasped. "If it affects you this way, then it is real. Maybe not in the way your mind will tell you it is, but it's real."

Blossomfall hung her head. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Chew meadowsweet in the morning, take poppy seeds when you can't sleep, and come see me if you're hallucinating," Jayfeather said, reaching a slender gray paw into the back of his den. As easy as if help had always been waiting. "I don't think I've stocked any, but I know where it grows. You can go find some on the side of the abandoned Twolegs nest. It grows next to the chervil."

At Blossomfall's blank look, he elaborated,

"Small green leaves? It looks like parsley?" Then he sighed. "And meadowsweet is fuzzy white flowers. They're tiny but they grow in big clumps. It's hard to miss. If you can't find it, come back and I'll treat you for blindness too." He punctuated it with a snort.

Blossomfall was still reeling. "There's… There are herbs to help this sort of thing?"

"The miracles of medicine," Jayfeather grumbled. "Now go away. You should take a stem as soon as you can."

Meadowsweet. Fuzzy white flowers that grow in clumps. That was a comfort. That was something to hold onto. That was something to do today.

"I'll go with Briarlight," she finally rasped.

"Good idea," Jayfeather said, then cleared his throat. "She needs to get some exercise, I mean. I can tell you're related, because you both overstay your welcome in my den."

Blossomfall rolled her eyes at him. "Thanks, Jayfeather."

He huffed.

The forest wasn't so quiet with Briarlight chattering away next to her. Small things. She stepped on the crust of the snow and it broke beneath her, but that wasn't ruining anything because it would snow again soon.

The meadowsweet looked like a little clump of melting snow, caught on pale stems. Jayfeather was right; even in a snow-filled clearing, the meadowsweet was obvious. Briarlight sniffed it as Blossomfall carefully bit off a stem. It was sticky and chewy, sweet as its name and easy to swallow.

Then Briarlight helped her gather more and they made their way back to camp in the white world, talking the whole way. It was good to talk, Blossomfall thought. It kept Briarlight's chest working and it kept Blossomfall's ears clear.

As she pushed through the bramble screen, the meadowsweet dangling from her jaws, she remembered something that was deep buried and recently uncovered.

Graystripe had brought Millie a thrush in the nursery and Bumblekit and Briarkit were squabbling. Millie had nudged them apart and told them a story. Blossomkit wanted to make sure every cat got their share and had herded her littermates into line. Bumblekit had said he wasn't scared of the story even as he shivered. Graystripe had said he still remembered how fierce Duke had been. Blossomkit had thought her parents were the bravest cats in ThunderClan.

"What are you thinking about?" Briarlight asked as they brought the meadowsweet to Jayfeather's den.

Blossomfall shrugged. Her thoughts were linking together a little better today. Maybe the snow-flowers were working. "I'm glad… there's time again."

Or perhaps she was still incoherent. Still, Briarlight smiled.

"Me too."

Blossomfall found Ivypool waiting in their usual spot. She looked concerned. Not scared; did anything scare her? Blossomfall felt a prick of guilt for making her worry. She knew what Ivypool would say. Maybe Ivypool was right.

"Do you want to eat dinner with my family tonight?" Blossomfall asked.

Ivypool cocked her head. "You think they'd have us?"

"I think so." Blossomfall shrugged. "Well, we can try."

"I'm sure you'd like to have more cats to throw prey at," Ivypool teased. Blossomfall nudged her, purring. Ivypool purred too. That was a sound that drowned out the quiet forest.

"Maybe I would."

Blossomfall hunted until the sun lit the snowy forest in dusk-blue and sunset-orange. Briarlight was equally exasperated when she saw her, laden down. A thrush, a vole, a fat squirrel, a rat. Graystripe and Bumblestripe seemed pleased by the feast. The glen wasn't quiet as they sat down to eat, sharing conversation and remembering things that weren't rotting inside, catching snowflakes on their tongues and sharing tongues, taking care of each other as the night fell. Blossomfall looked at the night sky and thought about how tomorrow would bring more snow. She wasn't cold, and the air was crisp and clear. She was with family and finally, the meadowsweet quieted the whispers.

"We're going to be okay," Ivypool murmured to her, and Blossomfall trusted her.