In the morning, Stonetail has a moment of bliss where nothing exists but the warm sunshine above and the soft moss below, but then Sootwing pokes his head into the warriors' den, informing her that Greystar wants the loners to know their way around ShadeClan territory. The order, delivered apologetically as possible, still brings the events of the previous day crashing down on the grey tabby. Whatever rejuvenation she felt upon waking is crushed by the hollow feeling in her chest.
She isn't Thrushpaw's mentor. Not anymore.
"I'll be out shortly," she promises Sootwing, who hovers at the mouth of the den. He hesitates for a heartbeat, then vanishes. The early morning silence, punctuated only by the twitter of birds and soft murmuring from camp's center, lowers itself over her again. She revels in it, rolling onto her side and forcing her breathing into an even cycle. Maybe if she waits long enough, yesterday's events will prove to be nothing more than a foul dream.
Too much time passes, and the ache in her ribs remains. Chiding herself for believing it could all be a figment of her imagination, Stonetail rises to her feet and slips outside to face whatever is waiting for her.
»»««
It happens that Clay is waiting for her. Streamheart and Coal have already begun their tour of the pine forest, leaving the brown tabby to wait for his escort. Of course, he isn't alone; Darkfeather eyes him bitterly from her post beside the camp entrance, presumably assigned the role of sentry against her will.
"Took you long enough," the dark she-cat snarls, stalking past Stonetail when she comes within earshot. Then the grey warrior is alone with Clay.
He is quite unlike his brother. While Coal eyes everything with a fierce wariness, Clay's face is filled with wonder. He can't peel his gaze away from the soaring treetops, and a quiet, constant purr vibrates from deep in his broad chest. Only when Stonetail scuffs her paws over the earth to signal her approach does he look at her.
"Good morning!" There's nothing but cheer in his voice, and Stonetail hesitates as she examines the swelling over the ruddy tabby's eye. Her Clan gave him and his brother quite the beating yesterday, yet she can't imagine him bearing any ill will towards anyone. For some reason, the thought is comforting.
"Morning," she replies guardedly. In spite of the easy air Clay has, she hates to allow herself to be vulnerable, to make foolish mistakes, but he takes her by surprise all the same.
"Something was bothering you yesterday," he meows, cocking his head to gauge her reaction before continuing. "Whatever it was, I'm sorry."
Had she been that obvious? Before entering the loners' den yesterday, she'd summoned up her strongest façade, but it seems like that hadn't been enough. The fur along her spine lifts with shame, and she jerks her head towards the forest. "Follow me." And with that, she races into the pines, heading towards the WillowClan border.
Clay is not fast, but he has strength. When Stonetail lessens her vigorous pace to catch her breath, the brown tabby steadily catches up to her, just as languid as before. The journey hasn't tired him in the least.
"Is there something important here?" he asks, sniffing a pile of pinecones and recoiling when some of the sap sticks to the end of his berry-pink nose. Stonetail's whiskers quirk as she watches him try to paw it off, to no avail. The bemused attempts at cleaning up remind her of an over-curious kit attempting to hide all traces of mischief.
Flicking his side with her tail, she says, "No, nothing important. But there's a creek through this grove. That's the only way you'll get that sap off. Come on." This time, though, she doesn't dash ahead. Instead she sets a pace even with the tom's, her own curiosity beginning to get the better of her. At first, he is oblivious, but finally he catches her pale eyes roving over his body as if trying to discern meaning in his tabby stripes.
"Is everything okay?" His voice is a little thick; the sap is blocking one nostril.
Should she be honest with him? Stonetail considers a lie, but nothing reasonable comes to her. "Just…wondering what brought you and your brother here. To ShadeClan." There are places far beyond the Clans were loners could be welcomed openly, yet they chose to travel through the heart of occupied territory in search of protection. Why take such a risk?
"We didn't know," Clay explains ruefully. "Coal tries to keep us away from groups. He says if we stay away from other cats, then they can't tell anyone where we've gone. Coming here was an accident, but we had to make the best of it, I suppose." There's a distant expression on his face as if he doesn't believe his own words, and Stonetail has her suspicions as to why.
"Your brother says it was an accident. Not you."
Clay gives her a sidelong look before focusing ahead again, rolling his shoulders before taking another step. "Yeah. Coal says. But I…I don't mind it. We've been on our own for a long time. I don't see why we can't stop, even if it's only for a little while." The baleful glance he flashes Stonetail's way tells her the rest. He wants more than empty trails and a new nest every night, and the mere thought of such a day-to-day life exhausts the grey warrior. If it were her, she doubts she would last a day. How have the two brothers gone on for so long?
They don't speak the rest of the way to the creek. There, Clay scrubs the sap from his nose and Stonetail stares into the water until her charge announces he's done tidying up. After that, they simply tour the borders and return to camp with hardly a word. They've shared enough.
»»««
When Stonetail and Clay return from their tour of the borders, the sun is just beginning its slow descent. The tops of the pines take on a golden hue that proves both beautiful and distracting to the brown tabby tom, and Stonetail has to remind him of where he stands. "Get a mouse and go back to your nest," she tells him as they pass through the camp entrance. The words are not so much a command as a suggestion, though; the grey tabby is worn from the long trip around ShadeClan's borders, and has neither the energy nor wish to be harsh with Clay.
After a moment, Clay tears his eyes away from the orange sky and flicks his ears. "Thanks," he says unexpectedly, causing Stonetail to pause in the middle of the well-worn track leading out of the fallen log. Before she can formulate a response, though, Streamheart and Coal pad up.
"Oaknose wants us hunting," the silver tabby explains, not giving Stonetail a chance to ask nor a chance to rest. "He said we can go in twos again if that makes it easier. Clay, do you want to come with me this time?"
The big tabby lights up, tail curling over his back in delight. "Happy to! Stonetail showed me some of the better places to hunt, so I think I can help." The glowing pines had stolen his breath with ease, but Streamheart's offer has clearly returned it. Momentarily, they are ambling back into the wood, chatting amiably as if they are dear old friends.
"Suppose that leaves us, then." Coal is of infinitely fewer words than his brother, and Stonetail's shoulders sag with relief at the thought. She and Clay told one another more than plenty at the beginning of their day; the prospect of a repeat performance with the black tom is not only exhausting, but it needles at the grey she-cat's pride.
"I suppose it does." She says no more as she turns and slides back out of camp, though her belly chooses that moment to growl softly. Flicking her gaze to the side, she catches Coal's whiskers twitching before his expression goes blank. His awareness of his surroundings is baffling, and for a moment, Stonetail forgets she's staring.
"If you're looking for something to hunt, it's not in my fur," he growls. Then he drops into a crouch, jaws barely parting, and begins stalking towards one of the few maples that grow in the forest. With deliberate pawsteps, he makes his way to the base of the tree, a phantom sifting through pine needles. A heartbeat later, he bunches his hind legs and launches forward, muzzle vanishing into a hollow beneath the maple roots. When he lifts his head, a mouse dangles from his jaws.
I could have caught that! Stonetail fumes silently. There is absolutely no reason she shouldn't have scented that mouse, but until Coal's head appeared above the root again, she hadn't had the slightest idea there was prey anywhere nearby.
As if to add insult to injury, the black tom tosses the mouse at her feet. "I heard your stomach," he says by way of explanation. Then he scents the air again, already in search of another kill.
"We don't eat until we go back; kits and elders get first choice. The code says so." It's this part of the code that keeps her from ripping the mouse apart to sate her appetite, its edge already keen from the day spent wandering. Well, this part of the code and a streak of stubbornness as wide as the WillowClan river. She digs a quick scrape, laying the mouse inside, and covers it back up in spite of the tightness in her belly and the curious look Coal gives her.
They lock eyes for a moment, each sizing the other up. Stonetail expects some mouse-brained question about why the code says who is fed first, but the loner surprises her by dipping his head. "Take care of your own first. I understand."
"You do?" The question escapes all too easily, and the ghost of fatigue flits over Coal's face.
"My brother's still alive, isn't he?" comes the cryptic reply.
It's easier not to speak after that. Instead, Stonetail and Coal prowl through the forest, one never quite leaving the sight of the other. The grey warrior keeps an eye on her charge because it is her duty, but she suspects he watches because he's spent most of his life looking over his shoulder. Despite their constant checking for a glimpse of one another's slim forms in the twilight, though, they manage a fair catch. Coal shows himself to be a superior mouser, plucking two more wriggling bodies from between tree roots, and Stonetail can't help but savor the exhilaration that rushes through her limbs when she leaps from a pine branch, claws dragging down jay in midflight. Even the rough impact with the ground does nothing to dull the adrenaline in her veins, and she hardly registers the unfamiliar scent at the pine's base past the warm blood of the jay filling her mouth.
By the time the moon lounges on the horizon, accompanied by glittering stars, Stonetail and Coal are depositing three mice, one jay, and a squirrel onto the fresh-kill pile; the last is a surprise kill that happened to shoot across their path on the return trip. Stonetail had been the one to make the catch, springing directly into its path and closing her jaws around its neck, perhaps a bit by luck. But no one in camp complains about good luck, not even Greystar, nodding approvingly from her den before vanishing between the vines, and so the squirrel is gratefully accepted by old Brightface.
Limbs aching from the effort of the day, Stonetail finally allows herself to drag a shrew from the pile, bidding a goodnight to Coal out of reflex. He blinks twice, stock still, before wishing her the same and slipping into the den he shares with his brother. As the last of his tail disappears, Stonetail lets the memories of the day disappear also, focusing solely on the feeling of soaring through the air in pursuit of the jay, followed by the jarring collision with the earth. Even so long after, it sends a thrill all the way to her toes, such a thrill that she is totally unable to recall the faint, unrecognizable scent that had been present where she snapped the bird's neck in two.