Five. One of each place in the Clans; one a gentle beast, one a sturdy tree, one as old as fear, one as swift as a breeze, and one that shines like a black star. They will save us against the silver-tongued prey.
*Author's note: In this section, the other Clans of the forest will be shown during the span of time leading up to where we left Turtlestar off in the last chapter. It begins just as the sun is beginning to set on the Clans the day before and ends with the dawn that Turtlestar and Cherrycloud returned to ShadowClan.
Finchpaw jumped over a boulder and landed on her paws clumsily just as another swarm of creatures was about to cover her. She shook off the few that had grabbed hold of her pelt with their fiery eyes ablaze; how much longer could she keep running before they finally made crowfood out of her?
She came to a clearing and looked around for the terror that she knew would strike again. The forest was twisted branches and undergrowth and was colored a sickly yellow and black. She didn't know which way camp was from here, or even if she was in ThunderClan's territory.
"Stop running, Finchstar, you coward!" A cold, grainy voice spat from all directions. "You lied to me, now you pay the price."
Fear tingling in every inch of her pelt, she ran down one of the dark paths between the gloomy brambles and yowled as the black swarms with their tiny eyes like fire closed in on her from both sides. Frantically, she veered to the side and leapt over a bush, praying to StarClan that the swarm wouldn't catch her. She dodged them barely and they kept after her.
The she-cat came to another ugly clearing with a thick floor of mud and an old tree with jagged branches staring accusingly down at her. Finchpaw tried to run past it, but her paws became trapped in the muck, slowly sinking in deeper. While she writhed trying to pull herself out, the black swarm began to circle her, clicking their horrid fangs together like crickets.
Then from a hole in the tree, one huge black thing came out. He snarled at her coldly as his swarms descended upon her. She tried to fight back, but they pulled her down as their leader seemed to cackle in joy.
Turning to her side while clawing desperately at her attackers, a shiny puddle in the mud showed her reflection. But it wasn't her...it couldn't be...it was a tabby, a gray tabby! Even her eyes were amber instead of green!
"Now you see yourself, Finchstar! A coward!"
Finchpaw nearly fell into the small pool of the medicine cat's den when she jumped up from Oakspots prodding her awake.
"Great StarClan!" The medicine cat hissed in shock at the young cat's reaction. "You would have thought I'd put fire ants in your pelt!"
Finchpaw shook herself and stared down at her paws in embarrassment. "Sorry..." The other cats in the den stirred in their nests and Slateleg glared at her and snorted before burying himself in the moss again.
"It's alright, bad dreams are common when you're ill." The mottled tom meowed more gently. "Your fever has gone down at least, are you hungry?"
She shrugged her shoulders before smoothing her ruffled fur with her tongue. She hadn't been hungry in a moon, she'd only eaten a mouse or part of a sparrow every other day to keep her mother, Dawnshine, from going mad with the worry. She'd served several sleepless nights staring down at Finchpaw in her nest since she'd gotten Carrioncough.
Oakspots sighed. "Well, maybe tomorrow you'll-"
"Mama! Finchpaw tried to fly like a real finch!" Mewed little Shrewkit from across the den with his mother.
The raspy voice of Honeyfall tried silenced him. "She was just having a bad dream again."
"She was talking too, Oakspots! She said she was Finchstar, she's not even deputy! Stripedfeather is!" The tom-kit carried on, dashing around the nest like a freshly woken squirrel.
"Now Shrewkit that's enough! It's not polite to say such ridiculous things about your Clanmates, especially with them only tail-lengths away!" The she-cat hissed, making her son stop in his tracks and curl up in his little nest to pout.
Finchpaw felt a pang of sympathy for the little tom; he'd been stuck in the medicine cat's den for almost a moon now and had barely been able to lift his head to swallow Oakspots' herbs when his sickness was at its height. She could understand why he wanted to have some excitement for once.
"He's probably well enough to go back to the nursery now." Oakspots told the queen as he soaked some moss in the pool and brought it for her to drink. "He hasn't had the fevers in three sunrises and his energy is certainly back..."
"I can't leave poor Shadowfur with five kits! She'll-"
Finchpaw decided to stretch her legs outside, partially because of Honeyfall's fussing and because it seemed like seasons since she'd been outside the medicine cat's den.
The sun was beginning to drop lower in the sky and the sunset was shining through the ferns and gorse that sheltered the ravine. It was cold, and she could see her breath, but it was warmer than it had been when she had last ventured out. A hunting part was just bringing fresh-kill in; it was a larger haul then usual, a sign that perhaps newleaf was finally beginning to come to the forest. She saw her father, Moletail, drop a sparrow and two scrawny voles on the pile, which made his hungry-eyed Clanmates mutter similar wishful thoughts.
It had been a hard first leaf-bare for the apprentice, and a hard one for even the most experienced warriors. The amount of snow had been one thing, but this plague of sickness had devastated all the Clans. Carrioncough had killed Shrewkit's brother, Springkit, four elders, and two warriors so far in ThunderClan, and Oakspots den still had five patients; Honeyfall, Shrewkit, Pebblefur, Slateleg, and herself.
She'd never truly thought she was going to die, it only felt like a fever that ruined her appetite no matter how much the medicine cats and her kin fussed over her. But the dream she'd just had, that had been another story. It was the third one like it and each time she'd woken up half the camp yowling out some nonsense about the swarms of black creatures. If this keeps up they'll send me to Snakerocks to sleep!
Suddenly the excited shriek of Shrewkit came from behind her as he scampered passed and Oakspots came to sit beside her.
"Guess you won with Honeyfall?" Finchpaw asked.
The gray and brown tom purred with a glow of amusement in his eyes as they watched Shrewkit dash towards the nursery where his sister, Sandykit, had been staying with Shadowfur's lively litter of three.
"Get back!" Petalkit hissed as he bounded towards them. "You're sick!"
"You can't be here! You'll get us sick!" Sootkit added.
"Oakspots says I'm not sick anymore!" The little silver tabby chirped.
Shadowfur, who'd been sharing a vole with Tigerkit and Sandykit, swooped her tail around the other two to quiet them and looked over towards the medicine cat, who gave her a nod, before her gaze brightened to welcome the tom-kit.
"It's good to have you back, Shrewkit! Are you hungry?" The black she-cat asked warmly as he began to scuffled with the other kits as though he'd only been gone for a moment.
Finchpaw heard Oakspots let out a sigh of relief to have the boisterous kit out of his pelt. His eyes were drooping with tiredness and he fluffed himself out against a cold murmur of wind that came across the camp. His mentor, Meadowtuft, had died trying to save the senior warrior, Podfrost, and two of the elders by not leaving their side for six sunrises. The tom had assumed all the medicine cat responsibilities without any fear it had seemed, but at this moment, she could see how much the burden was weighing on him.
He turned to her. "What about these nightmare of yours?"
"What about them?" Finchpaw responded while scratching her shoulder. "They're just caused by the fevers like you said."
"But have they been the same every time?" The tom probed, curiosity in his gaze.
Why did he want to know so badly? "Yes, the same kind of monster-thing but, a little different setup..." She muttered.
Oakspots leaned closer. "Have there been cats in your dreams, telling you things?"
"No." Unless that thing is supposed to be a cat. She shivered at the memory of the leader of the black swarm, his eyes like embers and his voice as rough as a thorn bush.
The tom looked away in what seemed to be embarrassment. "Er, nevermind. Come back inside, the cold isn't good for you."
Puzzled by his questions, Finchpaw followed him in and got a drink from the pool before settling back down in her nest. Beside her, Slateleg was snoring nasally, and Pebblefur was grooming his bony pelt quietly in his nest while Honeyfall was resting with heavy breathing and rheumy eyes. Oakspots began preparing another batch of herbs for her to take, which made her fur prickle at the thought of having to force down more juniper berries.
Just as he was sitting the dose in front of Finchpaw and mewing some encouragement about getting back to eating mice instead of leaves, Flowerstar, the leader of ThunderClan, came into the den.
"Geetings, Flowerstar!" Finchpaw mewed while eyeing the bundle of herbs with dread. The leader gave her a small nod, twitching her tail back and forth with her dark cream pelt bristling slightly.
Oakspots bowed his head to the she-cat. "What can I do for you?"
"How are our Clanmates recovering?" She asked. Her gaze was burning with urgency and her tone hinted the same.
"I was able to send Shrewkit back to the nursery, Honeyfall could use some peace and quiet to help her get back on her paws. Pebblefur and Finchpaw's fevers have been less severe, and Finchpaw's strength seems to be returning." The tom flicked his tail towards the apprentice just as she braced herself to swallow the herbs. The cat-mint tasted delicious but the bitter juniper berries and feverfew made her gag slightly, making the medicine cat give a slight chuckle. "Slateleg...has been resting plenty. The feverfew and lavender has helped him sleep through the night again."
"That's all excellent news, Meadowtuft will be looking down proudly at you from StarClan." The she-cat mewed trying to be polite, but had a harsh edge of anxiousness. "How is your herb stock? Do you need more?"
Oakspots thought for a moment. "Maybe some feverfew-"
"Then I want you to get them as soon as possible." The she-cat commanded, her tone firm. "I want you to go to RiverClan tomorrow and ask for extra supplies from their medicine cats. I'll send Ravenmoon with you there and to WindClan and SkyClan. ShadowClan two sunrises from now."
Finchpaw pricked her ears in surprised by Flowerstar's sudden panic over herbs. She hadn't been this frantic during the height of the sickness, why the sudden push for extra supplies?
Oakspots' tail twitched uncomfortably like a new apprentice being quizzed by their mentor on their second tour of the territory. "Uh, I'm not sure if it's, wise, to go asking around for herbs at this time. When Liondapple discovered the herb mixture, she shared it with all of us and we made sure among the five Clans that we had enough for each case we had, but now with...fewer cats infected-"
"I don't think you understand me, Oakspots, I know that the relationships between medicine cats are different than the warrior code usually allows, but this is an order from your leader." Flowerstar snapped with a thrash of her tail across the sandy floor. "We have to be prepared for whatever comes our way. Leaf-bare may be nearly over, but if you just look around you can see that this Carrioncough isn't over with your Clanmates." She shifted her serious gaze to Finchpaw for a moment, who'd stayed silent watching the two older cats. She'd never seen her leader or the young medicine cat like this. "ThunderClan mustn't lose any more lives this season!"
The mottled tom's pelt began to bristle. "RiverClan lost an entire litter of kits to this plague! Plus their entire elders den, and their leader! I understand where my loyalty lies, but going around asking for supplies that aren't necessary won't be the best for keeping the peace."
Flowerstar unsheathed her claws while a hiss from Honeyfall could be heard on the other side of the den, obviously angered by Oakspots referring to RiverClan kits like they were of more value than the son she'd lost.
"This is necessary, this disease is still just as deadly as it was before RiverClan discovered the remedy!" The leader continued impatiently. "ShadowClan lost three more lives to Carrioncough. We can't take any chances."
Finchpaw's jaw dropped as Oakspots hissed out something in disbelief. Could it really still be that bad in ShadowClan? She wondered silently as she watched the two argue.
"How do you know that?" He challenged. "Did your patrol check the ShadowClan burial grounds?"
The she-cats eyes darkened. "Mousestar is dead."
Her words sent a ripple of shock through the den, waking Slateleg from his doze and making Finchpaw's fur stand on end. She'd only seen the ShadowClan leader once at the Gathering before she'd caught Carrioncough.
He'd waged battle against rouges the leaf-fall she'd become an apprentice and had been daring to try and steal prey from the snakerocks from ThunderClan seasons before she'd been born. Mousestar hadn't seemed ill, though he did admit that they'd lost several Clanmates to the disease.
"I was on dusk patrol and we went close to the Thunderpath. Cherrycloud was leading Turtlefoot along the other side, towards the Highstones. They were alone." The leader continued. "The wind carried over their scent markers, they weren't fresh, like their own dusk patrol hadn't been out. The Clan was in their camp mourning for Mousestar. No fresh markers and only the medicine cat and the deputy heading out of the territory...what else could it have been?"
Oakspots sighed deeply, raking his claws over the earth. Honeyfall was now talking to Pebblefur in whispers about the news and Slateleg twitched his tail uncomfortably. Finchpaw looked at all them, unsure of whether to say anything. She'd heard the warriors discussing that Mousestar had boldly announced when challenging WindClan at a Gathering that he had three lives to spare. That had only been three or so moons past. It was the second leader dead this lead-bare. Driftstar of RiverClan was the first causality of Carrioncough, and the odds of it also being the cause of Mousestar's death were like betting on whether a sparrow could fly better then a rabbit.
"Those fish breathed mange-pelts were where Carrioncough started! It's the least they can do to give us a few berries!" Slateleg suddenly spat while struggling to sit up in his nest, breaking the silence at last.
Pebblefur and Honeyfall murmured in agreement while Finchpaw got to her paws to help the gray warrior beside her steady himself. He blinked gratefully at her before they both turned back to the high ranking cats.
"I see why you wanted me to wait to visit ShadowClan..." Oakspots muttered dryly.
"I grieve for the lives lost in the other Clans too, but we must think of our own Clanmates first." Flowerstar held his gaze.
"I'll set out for RiverClan now, while the sun is still shining." The tom said while getting to his paws. "I don't need an escort."
"Suit yourself," The she-cat responded. "But I don't want you going into their camp."
Oakspots scowled. "How am I supposed to ask for supplies then?"
"We already lost Meadowtuft, I can't afford to lose you too!" The dark cream she-cat meowed impatiently. "You're friendly with Liondapple and Chestnutfur, ask one of them to fetch them for you, unless their legs are broken too."
With a snort, their leader exited and Oakspots grumbled something under his breath before fetching some herbs to give Slateleg and Pebblefur before he left for RiverClan.
"Let this be a lesson to you, Finchpaw." Slateleg told her while weakly padding over to the pool for a drink. "The leader is the word of the warrior code, so unless they say something that goes completely against it, you do as they say."
She merely nodded to the ill warrior as he settled down again. She went over the pool and looked into the water; she was the same dark brown she-cat she'd been before, and not the leader she'd dreamed she was. The memory made her shutter, after seeing just how complex the position of leader could be up close.
"Liondapple! There's an invader and he's asking for you!" The sound of Goosepaw bursting into the medicine cat's den nearly made Liondapple's patient, Crystalwing, jump through the roof of sedge and reeds.
"It isn't an invader you frog-brain! It's another medicine cat!" Meowed his sister, Ivypaw, who came bounding in beside him. "Our mentors told us to tell you since Chestnutfur's gone to get fresh bedding with Reedpaw and Shortpaw!"
Liondapple raised her tail to silence them and coaxed the she-cat to eat her sorrel to assist her returning appetite before turning back to the bouncy siblings. "A medicine cat from where?" She asked.
"He said he's from ThunderClan." Ivypaw reported, her black and white pelt bristling with excitement.
"It's a tom, gray and brown!" Goosepaw added before getting shoved by his sister.
"It's obvious he's a tom if I said he." She hissed.
"He could have been lying! I'm trying to save us from invasion!" Goosepaw retorted while puffing out his chest.
Liondapple rolled her eyes as the two bickered. They'd only been apprenticed for a moon and a half and hadn't seen many other cats from the neighboring Clans, but did they have to carry on like kits?
"I see you've gotten the news," Dewcloud mewed as she appeared in the entrance way, the sunset's rays shining on her fur. "Leafstone's gone to tell Robinstar and Aldercloud. It's Oakspots of ThunderClan, asking for you and Chestnutfur to discuss medicine cat business, but he said he couldn't come into camp with us, or so he said. Berrythorn is watching him on the riverbank just past the stepping stones."
Turning to make sure that Crystalwing had swallowed all of the herbs, the silver and white tabby nodded at her. "I'm alright, thank you, Liondapple. I'll look after Shadewillow and Otterpelt while you're away, don't worry."
She thanked Crystalwing and the patrol members before leaving the den.
The evening light was reflecting off the river and the lingering patches of snow and making RiverClan's camp glow. Warriors were sharing tongues and eating together while the youngest members, Fernkit and Bearkit, were scampering around a pile of snow and pretending it was an attacking badger while their parents, Streamfur and Nightshimmer beamed at them from a few tail-lengths away. She eyed the fresh-kill pile and noted a handsome looking carp and hoped that it would still be there when she returned.
Making her way down the well-trodden grassy path that had been browned by leaf-bare, she spotted the familiar mottled tom from ThunderClan, along with Berrythorn and the deputy, Aldercloud.
"Greetings, Oakspots." She mewed warmly, though she could see his anxiety burning in his gaze and ruffling across his pelt. "Are your Clanmates still responding well to the herbs?"
"Yes, a kit returned to his denmates in the nursery today." He replied. "And the apprentice who we were worried for is on the mend, the others are also improving."
Liondapple purred at the good news and Aldercloud mewed warmly as well, Berrythorn remained silent, obviously distrustful of the outsider.
"However," The tom continued. "We're still worried of the sickness making a comeback during this last moon or so of leaf-bare."
"As we all are." Aldercloud meowed. "What brings you to our territory, Oakspots?"
The ThunderClan cat took in a long breathe before he answered. "I'm running low on juniper berries and feverfew, and I was wondering if you had some to spare."
Berrythorn growled and unsheathed his claws. "You came here to take our medicine and wouldn't even set foot in our camp? Think we're diseased like crowfood? You have more sick cats then we do!"
Aldercloud hissed a warning to the tom and stepped between him and the medicine cat. Flaring his nostrils, Berrythorn stalked away to sit by river to shred a stalk of withered reed with his claws.
"Are you in desperate need of these herbs? We share the same fears of Carrioncough as your Clan does," The deputy said, her gaze narrowing. "Even more so in some ways."
Her darkened tone made Liondapple's heart lurch at the memory of their old black and white leader, Driftstar, who'd lost his final life in the initial outbreak of the disease and also Sagefrost and Puddlestem's kits, all three of whom had died, and their mother had died of sickness and grief shortly after. Oakspots mentor, Meadowtuft, a pleasant older she-cat, had also died.
"Yes. We're in great need of it." Oakspots said while twisting his tail around his paws a bit awkwardly.
He's lying. They'd known each other for seasons, they'd both become apprentices and met StarClan together at the Highstones on the same half-moon. But why?
Aldercloud stared the tom down for a moment before she turned to Liondapple. "Do we have anything we can spare?"
"Yes, with only two left getting treatment now, there's some extra we can give you." She mewed. "If you'll come with me to get it." She narrowed her eyes at the tom, whose own face changed as though a violent rouge had fallen from the sky in front of him.
"Er, I don't want to cause your Clanmates alarm..." He began.
"Mouse-dung!" Berrythorn snarled from his place on the bank, looking ready to leap on the medicine cat. "Do you think we were kitted yesterday?"
"We might believe you were apprenticed yesterday with such immature outbursts!" Aldercloud snapped, thrashing her tail. "You're old enough to know when to hold your tongue!"
The black and brown patched warrior hissed at his deputy. "You're only a moon older than I am and haven't even been deputy for a season!"
Liondapple stepped between them as Aldercloud growled with her claws raking across the sand but said nothing.
It was commonly known that several of the younger cats in the Clan had disapproved of Robinstar's choice in deputy and believed that she should have picked Berrythorn. He was a good warrior and fiercely loyal to RiverClan, but he was too quick in his judgement and would pounce on any opportunity to prove his strength. Though he'd yielded to her position as deputy, his eyes were blazing with the jealousy that he'd kept somewhat well hidden thus far.
Does Oakspots know he's about to start a war within our own Clan? She thought angrily toward her fellow medicine cat. This couldn't be Oakspots will, she could tell by how he flinched at the argument taking place in front of him.
"Berrythorn, your guard is no longer necessary." Liondapple meowed. "Go tell Robinstar what Oakspots and I have agreed to, please."
The tom gave her a slight nod and before storming off from the scene, taking a moment to glare at Aldercloud as he passed. The she-cat closed her eyes once he'd passed and took in a deep breathe before speaking to the medicine cats again.
"My apologizes for my Clanmate's behavior, Oakspots. We're all still adjusting to things since Driftstar's death," Aldercloud narrowed her gaze at the obviously uncomfortable ThunderClan cat who merely nodded. "Liondapple, I will stay with our visitor while you fetch the medicine we can spare." Her tone became a bit harsher. "Then you'll be on your way home, as to not alarm your Clanmates."
Oakspots bowed his head in more shame than respect as Liondapple meowed in agreement. "I'll return soon."
The dappled tabby dashed down the path to camp and hoped to StarClan Berrythorn wasn't rallying an entire battle patrol in camp. Eyes were fixed on her and she went by, but only Ivypaw asked her what had happened while she shared a fish with her brother.
"What did the other medicine cat want?" She meowed as she swallowed her mouthful in a hurry to get the question out.
"He just need some more medicine for his ill Clanmates, nothing more." She mewed simply and passed before she could here any form of response.
The den was quiet except for the nasally snores of Otterpelt and Shadewillow. Crystalwing was eating two little minnows, which made Liondapple's tight chest relax a bit.
My Clanmates are healing. She thought as she used a large beech leaf to wrap up a bundle of feverfew and juniper berries. That was her greatest goal as a medicine cat, to make sure RiverClan was as healthy and strong as it could be. She knew that Oakspots felt the same for his own Clan, but this didn't seem like a true plea for help as he and all the other medicine cats had given to one another throughout the cruel leaf-bare. She sighed before scooping up the bundle in her mouth. Maybe Oakspots is telling the truth, but why be so jumpy about it?
Liondapple pushed the thought away as she padded through camp again. She briefly met Berrythorn's eyes while he sulked and shared prey with his mate, Minnowflower, whose belly was round with the tom's kits. He draped his tail across the she-cat's plump torso, his smoldering eyes hissing some kind of silent warning to the medicine cat that made a shiver go up her spine.
The sun was disappearing behind the trees across the river when Liondapple made her way to the sandy bank again and found her former mentor, Chestnutfur, waiting with Aldercloud and Oakspots. They were all silent and staring in different directions when she arrived, which made her pelt prickle with more discomfort.
"Chestnutfur," She meowed as she dropped the beech leaf bundle. "I only gave Oakspots what we could spare, nothing more-"
The brown tom raised his tail. "Don't worry, Aldercloud explained. If I'd have been here I would have just agreed to the same conditions."
Liondapple felt a spark of pride raise within her to hear that the older tom had such confidence in her. Looking at Oakspots, his eyes were still clouded and his face twisted with the discomfort his entire visit had plagued him with. She nudged to bundle towards him, and he dropped his head solemnly.
"Thank you, all of you, for your generosity. Flowerstar sends her highest regards to you and your Clanmates." He mewed.
"All of RiverClan wishes your Clanmates to heal well." Chestnutfur responded.
Aldercloud stood and began to pad towards the river as Oakspots nodded to the two medicine cats before picking up the bundle in his jaws and following the deputy across the stepping stones, being careful to mimic her every step since he was unaccustomed to water and most likely didn't want a swimming lesson with the water still so cold.
Once they were out of earshot, Liondapple turned to her old mentor, who seemed to be staring deeply into the horizon.
"Chestnutfur, I...I think that he was lying." The tom pricked his ears to show he was listening, but said nothing. "He acted like there were fleas all over him whenever he spoke and, and the refusal to come into camp is just bizarre."
The older cat stayed still and didn't shift his gaze to the she-cat, making frustration ruffle her pelt. They looked out across the river together, following the blurry shapes of the deputy and medicine cat as he was escorted home. A gust of wind came through, making the air turn to ice as clouds covered the fading sun.
"These are darker times, Liondapple. Darker than you have ever known." Chestnutfur's voice was a grim as the change in weather. "Lies will be thrown and blood will be spilled before it all passes, StarClan has showed us that just now."
She looked up at the graying sky and shuddered. Had StarClan sent them a sign just now?
StarClan let us all live to see next newleaf without unnecessary loss and sorrow. Liondapple prayed silently as small flecks of snow began to touch the water's surface and then vanish.
Everything was changing.
The walls pressed in all around him, though he was sure he'd stay safe in the warmth he'd always known. But the strange sounds he'd heard before were growing louder all the time...as long as he was here he'd be safe.
The noises had different effects on him, each seemed to be unique in its origin. These noises...these voices, voices was what he'd call them. Most of the voices were soft and calming, like the warmth he'd always known. But one was high-pitched and frantic, making the same sounds again and again.
He was moving, but he couldn't tell where. Was there someplace else other than here?
The voices were growing clearer.
"There's one more, Palepoppy."
"You're doing wonderfully, Softmoon!"
"Thrushpaw, I want you to help this one once they're born. Don't be frightened, just do as Icespots and I did with the others."
Palepoppy. Softmoon. Thrushpaw. Icespots. These sounds the voices made were special. They meant something.
Suddenly, the warmth he'd always known became...colors...no longer darkness. Pinkish-white and dark grey, but something else new was creeping in.
"That's right, nip the birth sac," With that voice, the warmth he'd always known disappeared. A harsher, much less pleasant feeling came over him.
Cold. He was nudged by something and tumbled about a bit. He was now lying on a surface that was...dry. Another new sensation, he was wet.
"A tom!" The nearest voice cried.
Wet and cold. The two of them together made him suddenly want to make noise likes the others. He cried out, opening his mouth consciously for the first time and filling himself with air; smells and movement filled his senses, there were four larger beings all around him, each with a scent as unique as their voice.
He made a shrill yowl that didn't match any of the others. He had a voice of his own.
"He certainly has good lungs, now get him warm."
Suddenly something warm touched him, it was wet too and a bit rough, but not in a bad way. It rang across his cold being over and over again. It was comforting, filling him with a new kind of warmth, one that came from another being with a voice. As he moved closer to it, something attached to the being poked at him, a prickly sensation...but it was soft at the same time and seemed to cover the entire body of the being.
He liked soft.
The wet rough thing stopped, and something pointy grabbed him and pulled him, up. Up was another new feeling, he'd been down before.
It put him down again, and something thinner but covered in the soft prickles wrapped around him to pull him towards one of the voices, which was panting out warm air. He found himself pressed against an entire side of the softness, its gently prodding was accompanied by another wet rough thing.
There were always two other beings that were his size pressing themselves closer as well. Their voices sounded a bit like his, but both were unique still. He felt safe to be among others like himself.
Then the voice of the being he was pressed against spoke. "My kits..my beautiful...kits." He liked this voice especially. It was soft and warm at the same time. The being made a rumbling kind of sound next and curled around himself and the other two little beings closer.
"Congratulations, Softmoon!" Softmoon...Softmoon was what the soft and warm voice was called. Even the others thought she was soft. "And good work, Thrushpaw, you did excellent for your first delivery." The same voice said in the kind of rumbling way, it was a purr.
Purrs made him feel happy. He purred against Softmoon and the two other little beings. Softmoon purred back.
"Do you want me to go get Waspflight now?" Asked the voice he guessed was called Thrushpaw. "He's been pacing the camp like badger with his claws in the ground since you started kitting at sundown!"
"Don't rush her!" Grumbled the voice who'd just praised Thrushpaw moments before. "Give her a moment."
"No, bring him now." Softmoon said as she cuddle him and the other two little beings closer.
With the silence that followed, he found himself latching his mouth onto something poking out slightly from Softmoon's side. He sucked it impulsively, and a yet another new feeling washed over him, sweet. The liquid flowed into his tiny stomach with ease and made a feeling of contentment flood his small being. Softmoon's sweet milk, her warm side, and the two other beings were a much more inviting world than the darkness he'd been in before.
"Softmoon..." A new voice said from a ways away, along with a new scent. It was hushed in what seemed to be great surprise, similar to how he'd felt coming to this new world. "They...they're beautiful!"
"And the best part is I don't look like a plump kittypet anymore!" Softmoon purred at the voice.
"Now I never said that..." The new voice moved closer to them.
"At least not to me, Icespots heard you and Thawpelt, "She's as round as the moon now!"." She teased.
The new voice laughed, and he felt the being bend down and press his muzzle against Softmoon's side and across the three little beings. "I can't believe it...you're a mother now!" He whispered against them.
"And you're a father." Softmoon responded, nuzzling the other being.
Mother. Father. These were what the big beings were, but what was he? He had never needed to know before, he'd just...been. They seemed to know so much, they knew what to call each other's voices and how to make him feel safe in this strange new world, they could tell him. They had to tell him.
He pulled away from Softmoon's side and wiggled out from the other two small beings. He felt the other two turn towards him, so he pushed himself up on his tiny paws and filled himself with air to try and make his voice like theirs.
It came out like a mix of a squeak and purr, but it was the best he'd done so far.
His mother and father were enamored at his voice, and Softmoon pulled him in between her paws and ran her rough wet thing across his little pelt lovingly. "Already roaring like a little lion!"
Lion? Was he a lion?
"His sisters are fierce too!" The voice of his father said. He could hear the other two little beings mewling to him from Softmoon's side.
"What should we name them, Waspflight?" Softmoon asked while he was picked up and put back in the curl of her side.
"The one that looks like you, she looks like a shining leaf." Waspflight said. "Shiny like the mint flowers that will be blooming soon, let's call her Mintkit."
Softmoon purred at his choice. "They grow close to a spruce tree, in the clearing where you always wanted to tackle me as an apprentice! It's bark is dark brown like Mintkit's little sister,"
"Sprucekit," Waspflight said softly to the little being.
"Mintkit and Sprucekit," She murmured warmly. "What about their brother?"
They were talking about him now, they would give him a name too!
"Remember the hickory tree with the gray bark we'd climb up to look down at the other Clans? With the gray bark, like his fur..." Softmoon continued.
"Hickorykit. Oh they're so perfect!" Waspflight exclaimed in joy.
Hickorykit.
He was Hickorykit, his sisters were Mintkit and Sprucekit, his mother was Softmoon, and his father was Waspflight. They were his new world. He purred against his sisters and wondered if they thought the same at this moment.
"SkyClan is lucky to have them, they'll grow up to fine cats." Softmoon proclaimed as she curled herself around them tighter.
Cat...they were all cats.
"Fine warriors too..." Waspflight said as he nestled around his family.
SkyClan...warriors...cats... Hickorykit felt like he'd been freed from the darkness he'd been in. He was here to be a cat, a warrior, a brother...and much more.
He pressed himself up on his little paws again, feeling his heart soaring and energy pulsing throughout him, he had a strange urge come over him, he followed it.
Hickorykit opened his eyes and looked at his parents, Softmoon and Waspflight, who stared back with great surprise.
"I'm a warrior and a cat and a brother!" Hickorykit somehow squeaked.
The night was cold, and a thin layer of frosty snow lay across the moors as the claw-moon drifted in the night sky. The clouds were moving away from the Clans and towards the unknown past the Highstones. Swiftstrike sat just outside the elder's den, her fur fluffed out against the cold and her whiskers stiff as the blades of browned grass she sat upon.
Silverpelt gleamed above, the eyes of the Clan's ancestors watching over them as they slept. The apprentices had gone to sleep in the nursery since Haystar feared them becoming ill since Carrioncough had taken five lives since the start of leaf-bare. The rest of the Clan, however, were curled together in nests made of dry bracken and twigs with bird feathers and scraps of rabbit fur to keep warm against the cold.
WindClan didn't hide from the night sky as the other Clans did, they slept alongside their ancestors.
She could see her kits, now grown warriors, lying in the moonlight. Barkfeather was finally out of the medicine cat's den and was sleeping close to his former apprentice, Froststreak. It was his first night sleeping with the others since he'd fallen ill nearly two moons ago. Thicketfur was curled up in a nest he'd made with Cedarsong, a lovely young she-cat he'd been spending more and more time with, even during such a cruel season. Whenever she asked him about her, he'd begin to fidget like a hare with flees and mutter some excuse to change the subject. She always had to bite back laughter at her son's obvious affection for the she-cat.
Perhaps they'd have kits sometime soon. She could picture little ones running around her son, tugging at his tail and batting at his nose lovingly.
The nursery had been empty for nearly two moons, until Runningpoppy had moved in a few sunrises ago with the announcement of her first litter. It was most likely for the best, however, since they'd heard of the horrors in RiverClan with an entire litter being lost to Carrioncough.
The disease had reached WindClan last, and they'd cockily believed it couldn't reach them.
Then one morning, Roseshade and Harefoot could barely find the strength to stand and both had to nearly be carried to the medicine cat's den. A ripple of dread went across the moors like a bitter gale, and by the next dawn, three more had fallen ill.
Swiftstrike became ill soon after the initial outbreak. She really barely remembered the first few days, only that she could only feel the urge to sleep, and that cats would wake her and urge her to drink and tried to force chewed up prey down her throat. She'd lost the desire to do both.
What she did remember was a gray tabby pelt she'd slept next to her whole life it seemed. He'd lift his head weakly and encourage her to eat, despite his own sickness taking a tighter grip on him with each sunrise. They'd managed to share a mouse together before curling up together and promising each other that they could run in the newleaf sun soon.
But the next time the sickness allowed her to open her eyes, he was gone.
Her heart was dragged to the ground as she stared up at the stars; Owleyes was somewhere among them.
Owleyes. Her mate, her best friend, the father of her kits...they'd spent they're entire lives together; born two sunrises a part, apprenticed together, earned their warrior names in the same moon, shared the raising of their two beautiful sons...
When Swiftstrike had woken to a half-empty nest, she'd somehow found the strength to stand, and stumbled out of the den and began to look for her mate across the moors in dream-like state caused by the fever. If she'd turned and gone the other way, she would have seen the Clan gathered around his body as they prepared him for burial.
She traveled to the ThunderClan border past Fourtrees, calling out for Owleyes at every murmur of wind the came across the plain. In the delirium, she stumbled while climbing on a log to get a better look at the territory. She fell at an awkward angle and twisted her leg badly.
Swiftstrike had laid helpless on the side of the rotting wood as snow fell all around her, drifting in and out of consciousness, crying out for her mate in vain, until the a patrol had finally found her.
It should have been no surprise that she was asked to step down from being deputy and join the elders after such an incident.
Haystar came to her when she was awake three sunrises after she'd been found, and gently told her that he believed that she'd served the Clan long enough, and after such heartbreak with the loss of Owleyes, she deserved to rest herself further after the sickness had past.
The yellow tabby hadn't said it, but she wasn't a mouse-brain, the truth was clear as day; she couldn't spring back like younger cats could, from the sickness or from heartbreak.
Quickfoot was a fine warrior, compassionate, loyal, and popular among her Clanmates. She had been Thicketfur's mentor in seasons past as a newly made warrior herself, and had helped him grow into a fine cat. She was a good choice to take on the role of deputy, WindClan had been placed in capable paws.
Her leg had healed, but the sickness took another half moon to let up after the cure had been found by Liondapple of RiverClan. But the loss of Owleyes was as fresh as the new dawn on the horizon.
"Out on guard duty again?" A voice came from behind. "Or vigil?"
The voice was Pinedapple, her new denmate, the only surviving elder from the outbreak of Carrioncough. Her dark tortoiseshell coat looked like a prickly bush as she padded out of the den and sat beside her.
"A bit of both..." She muttered as she looked out across the camp. "I wanted to see how Barkfeather was taking to the night air, it's the first time he's slept with the rest of the Clan in moons."
The she-cat draped her tail across her shoulders. "And maybe looking for someone? Up there," Pinedapple turned her gaze to Silverpelt, making Swiftstrike sigh deeply. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to look for loved ones that walk with StarClan...I find myself looking for Duskgorse and Rainbird some evenings. I still almost yell at the apprentices to fetch them new bedding!"
Swiftstrike remained silent, for she didn't want to snap at the old she-cat. Though she was now considered just as old by her Clanmates it seemed.
"I can't tell you it gets easier, because it never really does, you just become accustomed to it." She continued. "My mate was taken by hawk. My littermate was thrown off the gorge in a fight with RiverClan. My kits both died before me, one in kitting, the other of a battle with ShadowClan. But WindClan still has a home for me, somehow." Her eyes gleamed with sorrow at the memories, making Swiftstrike feel guilty for not being as friendly with her new denmate.
"I'm so sorry...I know I should be greatful to StarClan that both my sons survived this plague," She mewed as she pressed her flank against the older she-cat. "I guess I'm just being stubborn about how the seasons have worn me down..."
Pinedapple purred. "Our bodies are old, but our minds and hearts are young..."
Swiftstrike nodded before glacing over at the gorse tunnel entrance, where Beetlewing and Sienna were returning from scouting around the perimeter of camp on guard duty. Beetlewing shook his dark pelt from the cold and touched his nose to his mate's shoulder as she groomed her paws and was muttering something to him. Her heart stung, as she saw herself and Owleyes in the pair.
Sienna had joined WindClan last newleaf when she and her brother had been injured in a fight with rouges on the edge of the territory. Beetlewing had brought her prey every evening and had encouraged her to exercise on her broken leg to aid in its healing. It was of little surprise that she'd asked to stay, and Haystar allowed it since Beetlewing would have died of heartbreak otherwise. She was a fine addition to the Clan, fast and patient as a hunter, and a kind and patient teacher when helping train the apprentices. She'd had a beautiful litter as greenleaf came to a close, and their kits were now apprentices.
The leader had offered the same to her brother, but he declined and had returned to his life as a loner. The tom had visited once during leaf-fall to visit his sister's kits, but had not been seen since. The she-cat sometimes expressed worry over her brother since the cold season had brought so much trial to the area.
"You could hardly guess she wasn't Clanborn." Pinedapple commented as they watched the two.
"I see myself in her...Beetlewing was Owleyes' apprentice too..." Swiftstrike agreed.
"Life always is in present in the Clans, at all it's stages," Pinedapple yawned and stood to shake her pelt. "Come on, dawn will be here soon, and we might be frozen solid by then."
Swiftstrike gave a small chuckle of laughter before taking a long glance up at the stars. The sky was beginning to blue with the sunrise approaching, and the stars seemed to glow a bit dimmer as though the sleepy eyes of their ancestors were preparing to curl up in their nests of sunshine. The thought of her mate among them make her heart warm with comfort.
Her thoughts were broken with a sound of scuffling, Pinedapple settling into her nest without a doubt.
Swiftstrike took a long stretch, raking her claws against the frozen ground, before turning herself back towards the den.
Her heart almost burst through her chest, however, when she barely glanced up and noticed what she initially thought to be a trick of the light, until it moved.
Eyes...little gleaming eyes...no bigger than a pebble, peaking out of the tangle of gorse that surrounded the sandy dip WindClan made their camp in.
The eyes blinked, and retreated a bit deeper into the dark undergrowth. Swiftstrike sniffed the air to get a scent of the intruder, but the wind was blowing to the side of her, so no smell but the bitter air filled her nose. She glanced over her shoulder fanatically to beckon Beetlewing and Sienna, as the creature would likely bolt if she tried to pounce on it, but they'd left the camp again to make their rounds before the dawn patrol awoke.
Foxdung. She hissed to herself internally.
The creature peered out a bit more, it's twinkling pupils full of curiosity at what the she-cat would do. It was too small to be any kind of cat...and its coloring was as dark as the gorse it made its hideout.
"Pinedapple," She hissed softly. "There's something above the den!"
A sleepy mumble was heard before the she-cat said something audible. "Whatssthat?"
"There's something in the gorse..."
Pinedapple became more alert. "Yowl for help, get Beetlewing and-"
"They're gone!"
With the conversation, the creature seemed to tilt its little unseen head, and began to creep along the wall towards the center of camp.
Enough of this... She thought angrily, she was a grown warrior, not a kit that had to sneak around the rest of the Clan!
She let out a low growl, crouched slightly on her paws, and bared her teeth. The creature backed up slightly. She spat and unsheathed her claws.
"Where is it?" Pinedapple's voice broke her gaze with the creature. As the she-cat pulled out of the den, the gorse shook, and the creature's tiny eyes disappeared with a slight scuffle.
Swiftstrike relaxed and sat back as a gust of wind rustled the gorse where the eyes had been. "It's gone...whatever it was."
As she curled up in her nest, the image of the eyes still burned in her wind like the light of sunhigh. That was not like any gaze she'd ever seen, and part of her feared seeing it again, as she could not even imagine the full form of the thing the eyes belonged to.