Eventually Featherpaw grows tired of listening to Stormpaw and Hawkpaw argue over every little thing, so she steals her brother for a fishing trip; just the two of them.
The river is calm and the sunshine is warm on his back, and Stormpaw realizes that it's been a long time since he just enjoyed a quiet morning with Featherpaw. He brushes his pelt against hers in a sort of apology as they settle down on the shorebank, and Featherpaw bumps her shoulder against his in return. He can read her mind: Don't worry about it.
After so many days of pushing himself to his limits, testing his abilities against Hawkpaw's, the serenity surrounding the two of them lulls Stormpaw. He doesn't want to fish; doesn't want to do much of anything except enjoy the peace and the company. So he lies on the riverbank and watches Featherpaw.
She's a very skilled fisher. Part of it is because she is undeniably half RiverClan, and the other part is because-
"I used to practice striking the water ten times, ten times a day, whenever I would get frustrated with our battle training," she explains after she expertly hooks a trout in a move so swift that Stormpaw blinked and missed it.
"What's the most you've ever caught on one trip?" Stormpaw asks, awed.
Featherpaw scrunches her nose, thoughtful. "Four, maybe?"
"You should try and beat that today!"
Her whiskers twitch in amusement. "Must everything be a competition to you these days?"
"It's not like that. I just want to see the look on Leopardstar's face when you return to camp with more fish than an entire hunting patrol."
Featherpaw might not care for competition, but she will always have time to ruffle Leopardstar's fur. She falls back into her crouch with a determined look in her eyes.
It's not often that Stormpaw looks at his sister and is reminded of RiverClan; he's always thought that she's done that intentionally, always done her best to channel ThunderClan. But now, as he watches her reach her paw into the divine and pull life out of it again and again, without failure, his heart aches.
She is RiverClan, undeniably. There's nothing that she can do to change that.
He wishes the fact were easier for her to accept. Featherpaw could fit right into the Clan if she weren't so hellbent on reminding everyone of her other half.
Maybe someday.
It's nearing dusk as Featherpaw trots into camp with her head held high and two carp in her jaws; Stormpaw carries her trout and two other catches. He can feel their Clanmates eyes on them as they deposit the fish onto the fresh-kill pile, and Stormpaw swells with pride for his sister.
"Looks like you two have brought back a feast!" Mistyfoot exclaims as she approaches them with Leopardstar in tow.
"I didn't catch any of this," Stormpaw says, nodding at Featherpaw. "She did it all by herself."
There's no denying the impressive feat, and Leopardstar doesn't even try to. Her expression soft and her gaze unusually warm, she says, "Well done, Silverstream. The Clan will eat very well tonight."
Mistyfoot and Stormpaw turn to Leopardstar in the same instant. "Who?" Stormpaw asks, even though he knows the name, but there's a familiarity in Leopardstar's voice that he's never heard before.
Leopardstar frowns, the look gone from her face. "What?"
"You called her Silverstream," Mistyfoot says in a voice that trembles, but from sadness or from anger, Stormpaw can't tell. Her carefully contorted expression gives nothing away.
Leopardstar's eyes widen. "Did I? I meant- Featherpaw, obviously. You just-" Leopardstar stares at Featherpaw like she's staring at a ghost. "You look so much like her."
"Well, she is Silverstream's daughter," Mistyfoot points out, and- Anger. It's anger.
Leopardstar looks like a warrior who faces a losing battle. She looks like a leader with no power. She looks like the same cat who sat beside Tigerstar and watched on as he ordered her deputy to kill two innocent apprentices.
She is that same cat, and suddenly Stormpaw is angry too.
Coward that she is, Leopardstar abruptly spins around and disappears into her den. Angry as she is, Mistyfoot follows her. Stormpaw wants to do the same thing but when he turns to gather Featherpaw, he freezes.
Featherpaw doesn't look angry. She looks wounded.
And wounded as she is, she runs out of camp.
Stormpaw doesn't expect Featherpaw to return to camp that night. He tells Hawkpaw and Mothpaw that she's holed up in the medicine den with a bellyache.
He tells Mistyfoot the truth, that Featherpaw is probably going to fall asleep by the ThunderClan border, and then he asks her how she confronted Leopardstar in her own den.
"You don't need to worry about what I said to Leopardstar," Mistyfoot dismisses. "It's between us."
Stormpaw sours, but he knows Mistyfoot's tone well enough to not press. He does ask, "Were Leopardstar and my mother friends before she died?"
Mistyfoot's gaze is somewhere very far away; maybe where Featherpaw is wallowing by the border, or maybe where Silverstream died giving birth to two half-Clan kits. Finally she answers, "Yes, they were friends."
"Was Leopardstar as close to her as you and Stonefur were?"
"It's not really comparable. Silverstream was our kin."
"But sometimes friends are closer than kin."
"True," Mistyfoot admits, and Stormpaw thinks that there's something she's trying not to say. "But still, it was different. They were friends, but Leopardstar always… admired your mother. She thought Silverstream was wonderful. When she found out about her relationship with Graystripe it cut her deeply."
Mistyfoot is studying him, seemingly willing him to understand some sort of hidden meaning behind her explanation. Then it clicks.
"Oh."
"I don't know if this puts any of Leopardstar's behavior into perspective for you now, but-"
"Yeah, it does. Is that why she hates us?"
Mistyfoot closes her eyes. "Leopardstar does not hate either of you."
"It looks like it from where I've been standing," Stormpaw says, bitter. "On opposite sides of Bonehill."
"Stormpaw," Mistyfoot snaps, and he flinches. She breathes in a deep breath, then opens her eyes to study him again. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped. I just- I'm tired. I've just finished arguing with Leopardstar for the tenth time today it feels like, and I don't want to argue with you, too."
"I'm sorry," Stormpaw mutters, and he brushes his head against her chin. "I don't want to argue with you either."
She noses the top of his head. "Back to Leopardstar, I know you and Featherpaw have a complicated relationship with her. Honestly, I don't expect either of you to ever fully forgive her. She was my friend for a long time, which is why I'm trying to forgive her, but believe me, it isn't easy. Especially whenever she mentions Stonefur and Silverstream."
He's still tucked underneath her chin so he can't see her expression, but he can hear it in her voice; anger has finally given way to sadness.
"I'm sorry," he says again, quietly, and this time he's not quite sure why he's apologizing; only that a lot of cats owe Mistyfoot a lot of apologies that she's probably never going to receive.
"It's not your fault, Stormpaw," Mistyfoot murmurs, and Stormpaw leans heavily against her. He has more questions clouding his head but he pushes them aside for the night. It's time to let Mistyfoot rest.
How long was Leopardstar in love with my mother?
Did my mother ever feel the same way toward her?
Do I remind Leopardstar of Silverstream too, or do I remind her of Graystripe?
Do I remind anyone of Stonefur? Of Crookedstar, of Oakheart, of Shellheart?
How long has Graystripe been meeting Featherpaw by the border? Why hasn't she ever invited me to come with her?
He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to quit thinking of new questions, but it's impossible to think about anything else when Featherpaw still isn't back. His nest is too big for one cat, it's made for two.
For one brief, horrifying moment Stormpaw considers asking Hawkpaw to share his nest until Featherpaw comes back. He immediately blames the thought on his exhaustion, and then he stares at the reed-woven ceiling and refuses to think up another question.
Later that night, Featherpaw returns. She always does.
She becomes quieter. She laughs less.
She starts staring at her reflection; not just a passing glance but with studious eyes, as if she's taking in every detail of her own face.
Then one morning, on a hunting patrol, Mistyfoot scolds her for simply looking at her reflection in the river when she should be focused on fishing.
"Don't be too hard on her, Mistyfoot," Shadepelt says with a purr. "Have you forgotten who her mother is?"
"Stars, the amount of times I heard Ottersplash threaten to shred Silverstream's ears if she didn't stop looking at her reflection," Mosspelt adds, shaking her head. "She said that Silverstream was the vainest 'paw she'd ever mentored."
Their reminiscing manages to pull a smile from Mistyfoot. "I remember that, too. Ottersplash used to send her back to camp over it."
It's not often that cats speak about his mother with open fondness, and even less around Stormpaw. It's like they try to forget that Crookedstar's perfect daughter wasn't so perfect after all, and he serves as a constant reminder of that.
"You know," Mosspelt begins, looking at Featherpaw again, smiling. "You really do look so much like Silverstream. Sometimes I look at you and I have to remind myself that I haven't been sent back in time."
Mosspelt was their foster mother. She loves them the same way she loves Dawnflower and Emberdawn. She would never intentionally hurt them.
Still, Stormpaw knows how to read Featherpaw, and he knows that the pretty smile she gives Mosspelt is fake.
She quits studying her reflection. She starts going out of her way to avoid puddles, and she stares so deep into the river that she can't possibly see her own face.
It doesn't matter if Featherpaw thinks she looks like Silverstream or not; now that's the only cat their Clanmates see when they look at her. Is it a coincidence that all of a sudden the same warriors who disliked her for her blood and her sulky attitude now have an encouraging word or a kind smile to offer her?
Is it a coincidence that nobody ever tells Stormpaw who he looks like, even though the answer stares them in the face with amber eyes and ThunderClan-broad shoulders?
One night Featherpaw quietly asks him, "Do you think it's possible to hate a cat you've never met?"
Stormpaw gazes outside of their den at the star-scattered night sky and answers just as quietly, "Yeah, I do."
Is it a coincidence that Featherpaw is the only apprentice chosen to attend the Gathering?
Featherpaw tenses when his name isn't called and he thinks she's going to refuse to go, so he quickly touches his nose to her ear and whispers, "Tell dad I said 'hi', okay?"
She meets his eye and relaxes. "Yeah, of course. I'll tell everyone."
The patrol departs soon after. Quiet falls over the camp; cats are sharing tongues or finishing off their meals before they retire for the night. Only a few cats will choose to stay awake and wait for the Gathering patrol to return.
Stormpaw is one of those few. He goes in search of Hawkpaw for some lively competition to help him stay awake; it's never very hard to find Hawkpaw, Stormpaw just has to follow the sound of boasting, or arguing, or venting. This time he follows the voice all the way behind the Nursery.
Mothpaw is there too. She's sitting down beside the stream, her pelt fluffed in frustration. Hawkpaw paces in front of her, his tail lashing. "I can't believe we weren't chosen again! This is the third Gathering now!"
"I don't know how much harder I can train," Mothpaw huffs. "If Leopardstar isn't impressed with us now then she's never going to be."
"This has nothing to do with our training," Hawkpaw hisses. "It's all because of our father."
Stormpaw stiffens. He presses closer to the ground, his ears perked forward.
"Lower your voice, Hawkpaw!"
"Why?" He challenges. "I'm so sick of Leopardstar treating us like we're some sort of secret that she's hiding. Who cares if Tigerstar is our father?! Why does it have to be a bad thing?"
"Hawkpaw!" Mothpaw hisses. "Don't say his name!"
Too late, Stormpaw thinks, frozen in fear. Too late too late too late Tigerstar is their father, Tigerstar is their father, stars, Tigerstar still lives in RiverClan-
Stormpaw forces his breathing to remain even and not give his position away; he forces the coldest pair of amber eyes he's ever gazed into out of his mind; he forces himself to not crumple in on himself in panic. Slowly, very slowly, he backs out of the reedbed that he had been hiding in. He holds his breath, scared that one wrong move will alert the littermates and suddenly Tigerstar will leap out from the stream and over their heads and land right on top of him-
He spins around and runs from behind the Nursery and straight out of camp, running nowhere in particular, just as far away from the littermates as possible.
Stormpaw sits in front of the river and prays that Graystripe had to stay behind for some reason, that he'll feel compelled to visit the river, that he'll tell Stormpaw that everything is alright, everything will be alright, he'll come to save him from Tigerstar again if he ever needs to-
Stormpaw crumples in on himself and sobs, and if he hears Stonefur's voice reassuring him then it's just his own mind torturing him because Stonefur is dead.
Eventually he finds his way back to camp. He walks into the apprentice den, then freezes.
Mothpaw is grooming Hawkpaw's shoulders, but she stops when she notices him. She offers him a weak smile and asks him a question that he doesn't comprehend; all he can think is, Amber eyes. Same build.
Hawkpaw raises his head and frowns at Stormpaw; he says something, but Stormpaw doesn't hear it. Same dark tabby pelt. Same fighting skill. I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner.
His heart is pumping blood to his ears and his blood is humming, like thunder on the horizon; a storm about to break.
A familiar scent wraps around him; a familiar pelt brushes against his own. "Storm, are you alright?" Featherpaw murmurs, and he nearly collapses into her.
"Yeah," he finally gasps, like it's the first time he's been able to catch his breath that night. "I'm- I'm fine. How was the Gathering?"
Three pairs of eyes are staring at him like he's lost his mind; he doesn't care. He focuses on Featherpaw, refuses to look away from Featherpaw, refuses to see anyone other than Featherpaw.
She smiles at him and says, "Graystripe says 'hi', and he's thinking about you."
Stormpaw has never tried so hard to forget about a conversation before, but it's impossible. Every time he looks at Hawkpaw or Mothpaw, he's reminded of their father. He's reminded of cowering behind Stonefur at the bottom of Bonehill.
Mothpaw accidentally stumbles into Mistyfoot on a dawn patrol, and before Stormpaw can stop himself he snarls, "Don't touch her!"
The entire patrol halts. Mothpaw recoils like he's struck her; Mistyfoot stares at him, bewildered.
Stormpaw swallows and just stands there, silent, until the patrol finally resumes. Mothpaw keeps her distance from Mistyfoot after that.
"No," Stormpaw says strongly, stepping between them. "Use me for the demonstration."
Hawkpaw scoffs. "What, you're the only cat who's allowed to do demonstrations?"
"Yes," Stormpaw snaps, even though he knows he sounds ridiculous. Again, Mistyfoot stares at him utterly bewildered.
Finally she says, slowly, "Alright. Hawkpaw, go sit down by Featherpaw."
Mouse-dung, Stormpaw thinks, trying to keep one eye focused on Mistyfoot as she explains the new move, and the other eye on Hawkpaw and the distance he puts between himself and Featherpaw and Shadepelt.
A few days later, Mistyfoot pulls Stormpaw and Featherpaw aside. "I didn't want to tell either of you this until you were warriors, but it seems that Stormpaw has already figured it out."
Featherpaw blinks, caught off guard. "What have you figured out, Stormpaw?"
They're both looking at him now, and the words feel like sand in his mouth. Tigerstar is the father of Hawkpaw and Mothpaw. He didn't want to tell Featherpaw the truth until she was in a better headspace, but he doesn't have a choice now. He opens his mouth-
"I'm pregnant."
Stormpaw and Featherpaw's heads snap back to Mistyfoot. "You're pregnant?" Featherpaw echoes, sounding elated. "Oh, Mistyfoot, that's wonderful! Congratulations!"
"Thank you," Mistyfoot purrs. "I haven't told anyone except Mudfur, though, so if you could please keep this secret to yourself for a little while, I would appreciate it. And you." She looks back at Stormpaw. "I appreciate your concern, but you don't need to protect me from half the Clan." There's a teasing note in her voice.
"Ohh," Featherpaw sings. "That's why you've been so snappy when cats get too close to Mistyfoot! I thought you were just going crazy."
I think I am, Stormpaw doesn't say.
He just looks at Mistyfoot and forces a smile. "Sorry. I'll do my best to back off."
I won't let anything happen to Mistyfoot or her kits, Stonefur, Stormpaw thinks that night. I promise.
Hawkpaw can sense that Stormpaw is ignoring him. Hawkpaw can't stand to be ignored.
"Come on, Stormpaw, it's been forever since we sparred!"
Stormpaw grooms his paws, feigning uninterest when in actuality he's dying to dig his claws into the other tom. "Sorry. You're just not a challenge for me anymore."
"What? Stormpaw, I won our last session."
"Nope, don't remember that."
Hawkpaw frowns. "What's up with you lately? You've been acting weird."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Hawkpaw narrows his eyes. "Fight me."
"No."
"Why?"
"I'm busy."
"Busy doing what?"
"None of your business."
Hawkpaw leaves with a snarl. Stormpaw's eyes follow him all the way out of camp.
Another day, Stormpaw is picking the elders' ticks when Hawkpaw appears out of nowhere, his jaws laden with fish. He drops them in front of Stormpaw, panting, and says, "I caught four. I tied your record."
Stormpaw focuses on a particular tick between Loudbelly's shoulders. "Actually, I caught eight fish this morning. All trout."
Hawkpaw stares at Stormpaw for a long moment, then explodes, "What kind of fish-brain do you think I am?!"
"The kind who can't out-hunt me."
"You're lying!"
"Go find Heavystep and ask him for yourself. He saw Featherpaw and me carrying them into camp this morning."
"They were probably all Featherpaw's catches," Hawkpaw fumes.
Actually they were Featherpaw and Stormpaw's catches, thank you very much, although she did catch most of them. There's no way he's going to tell Hawkpaw that, though, so he only gives a silent shrug and then ignores every angry word that leaves Hawkpaw's mouth.
Eventually Hawkpaw gives up and storms out of the den, his tail lashing wildly behind him. Sedgecreek lets out a low whistle once he's gone. "Wow."
Loudbelly rumbles in agreement as Stormpaw demands, "What?"
"Nothing," Grasswhisker soothes him, but there's humor in her voice. "You 'paws are always so entertaining, is all."
"Very entertaining," Sedgecreek adds with a grin.
Stormpaw frowns, unconvinced, and resumes picking ticks in silence.
When Hawkpaw wakes him up in the middle of the night, Stormpaw decides to make good on his thoughts and suffocate the other tom. Then Hawkpaw hisses, "Featherpaw is gone!"
Stormpaw wants to groan. After moons of Featherpaw sneaking out to meet their father by the ThunderClan border every claw-moon, Stormpaw isn't worried about her. She always comes back. She's never been spotted before. Usually she manages to go undetected like a ShadowClan warrior, but of course Hawkpaw woke up to go make dirt, of course he noticed Featherpaw was missing-
"She probably has a bellyache and went to see Mudfur."
"I already checked, she's not in his den."
"Then maybe she's getting a drink from the stream-"
"I looked behind the Nursery too, I couldn't even find her scent."
Stormpaw groans. "Hawkpaw, it's moon-high-"
"Do you seriously not care that Featherpaw is missing?" Hawkpaw asks, shocked. It's going to turn into suspicion soon.
"I just think you're overreacting," Stormpaw says, caging a sigh as he stands up. "But since you're so paranoid, I'll go look for her." It would be nice to talk to Graystripe, anyway.
"I'll come with you," Hawkpaw offers, already leaving the den. Stormpaw rushes to block his path and fixes Hawkpaw with a hard look.
"I don't need your help."
Hawkpaw's eyes widen, then they narrow in frustration. "Don't be ridiculous, it's not safe for any cat to leave camp and wander around the territory at moon-high."
"I said, I don't need your help."
"What is wrong with you lately?" Hawkpaw snaps, and Stormpaw shushes him as Mothpaw stirs in her sleep. "Why can't I come along? Two cats searching for her is better than one!"
"Are you going to stand here and argue with me all night or are you going to let me leave and look for my sister?" Stormpaw demands, his tone as unforgiving as he can manage. Honestly, it's not hard.
Hawkpaw studies him for a long, tense moment. Even in the dead of night, his eyes are as blue and bright as the ice that freezes the river in leaf-bare. They're almost enough to freeze Stormpaw, too; he doesn't realize he's been holding his breath until Hawkpaw finally looks away, angry, and mumbles, "Fine. But don't expect me to cover your tails if you're not back by dawn."
That's all he needs to hear. He spins around and jogs quickly out of camp, heading straight for the ThunderClan border.
There they are, Stormpaw thinks, as he approaches the river. Graystripe sits on one side, Featherpaw sits on the other, and they just talk. He wants to join them, but he doesn't want to interrupt whatever they're talking about. He settles down behind some tall grass a good distance from them and waits for an opportunity.
Then, behind him, somebody gasps. Stormpaw spins around and comes face to face with Hawkpaw.
"You followed me?!" Stormpaw hisses.
"Why are you just watching them?!" Hawkpaw demands, peering past Stormpaw. "Your sister is meeting up in the middle of the night with a ThunderClan warrior!"
"He's not a ThunderClan warrior, he's our father!"
"Oh, great, so it's the ThunderClan deputy!" Hawkpaw glares at him. "How long has Featherpaw been meeting with him? How long have you known about it?"
"That's none of your business!"
"If my Clanmates aren't loyal to RiverClan then it is my business," Hawkpaw retorts. "And it's Leopardstar's business, too. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't wake the entire camp up and tell them that you and Featherpaw are ThunderClan sympathizers."
His heart is pumping blood to his ears and his blood is humming, like thunder on the horizon; a storm about to break. "You don't want to do that," he says, his voice low in a threat.
Hawkpaw steps to him so that they're nearly nose-to-nose and he growls, "Why don't I?"
"Because if you do that then I'll tell the entire forest that Tigerstar is your father."
The ice inside Hawkpaw's eyes shatters. "How do you know about that?!" he hisses.
"Does it matter how I know about it, if I know I'm right?" Stormpaw challenges. "Go ahead and tell RiverClan what they already know, and I'll tell them that you're the offspring of the cat who tried to destroy the Clans."
Hawkpaw looks uncertain now. "So what if Tigerstar is my father," he asks. "He was one of the strongest warriors to ever live. That's not a horrible legacy to live up to."
Something inside Stormpaw snaps. "Let me show you exactly what kind of legacy you have to live up to, Hawkpaw."
He practically drags Hawkpaw across the territory, away from Featherpaw and Graystripe, and he prays that they take their opportunities to return to camp unnoticed. He hopes they understand the length he's going to protect them both; he's not stepped a paw into this wretched, star-cursed place since Stonefur was murdered right in front of his eyes.
He throws Hawkpaw down at the bottom of the pile of bones. Only then can Stormpaw taste the scents that still haunt this place: fear, blood, death, the stench of rotting flesh and betrayal. His blood isn't just humming in his ears anymore, it's boiling.
Hawkpaw stares up at Bonehill with wide, horrified eyes. He's heard the terrible stories of Tigerstar but he's never been confronted with them before, they've always been stories, but now they're real and it's right in front of him.
Stormpaw is right in front of him, real, one of the only cats that Tigerstar tried and failed to kill. He can't help but spit, "Some legacy, huh."
A storm breaks. Ice shatters.
Hawkpaw turns and throws himself at Stormpaw with a snarl, and they roll across the ground, a mess of limbs and claws and teeth.
Stormpaw bites down on his shoulder so hard that he tastes blood on his tongue, and then he bites down harder. Hawkpaw hisses in pain and rakes his claw across Stormpaw's ears; he can feel the instant that it slices clean through. His vision starts to blur, from anger or pain, who knows.
"You should be the one cat who understands me!" Hawkpaw hisses. "You should understand what it's like to lose one parent, to have never met another, and still be judged for their sins!"
"We are nothing alike," Stormpaw snarls. "I could never understand someone who sees Tigerstar as anything but a tyrant!"
"You're just like the rest of them!" Hawkpaw shouts. He catches Stormpaw's head with a well-timed strike and they stumble apart, panting.
"What?" Stormpaw growls, eyes narrowing.
"Have long- have you known about my father?" Hawkpaw demands, even as he gasps for breath. "Is that why you've been ignoring me? You found out and suddenly I'm a different cat and we can't spar or fish together or even talk? It's not like I asked to be his son! It's not my fault!"
His head is still pounding from that last strike so maybe he's not hearing Hawkpaw clearly, but something about his tone, his stance; desperation. He's desperate for Stormpaw to understand, maybe for anybody to understand.
He remembers being seven moons old and being shoved into an old foxes' den that reeked of terror and hiding behind Stonefur and Mistyfoot, crying, "It's not our fault! We didn't do anything wrong!"
Hawkpaw sits at the bottom of Bonehill as blood drips into his eye and he spits, "You judged Mothpaw and I the same way that everyone has always judged you and Featherpaw. How does that make you any different than them?"
Stormpaw doesn't have an answer to that.
"What is going on here?!" A voice roars and dread fills Stormpaw's belly. He turns around and cringes as Leopardstar descends the hill. "Why are you two here, here of all places?" She turns her glare to Stormpaw and he flinches.
"We- we-" he stammers.
"You're bleeding," Leopardstar interrupts. She looks at Hawkpaw and nearly explodes. "You're both bleeding! Have you been fighting?! What in StarClan's name has possessed you to come here in the dead of night and spar?!"
Silence meets her demands. Stormpaw risks a glance at Hawkpaw, only to find that Hawkpaw is already looking at him. Waiting. Challenging.
He won't tell the truth if I won't, Stormpaw realizes. He looks back at Leopardstar, stubbornly silent.
Leopardstar's head is going to pop off any moment now. "I cannot believe this," she fumes. "I expect so much more from you two; Hawkpaw, my own apprentice, and you have been doing so well, now this?! Stormpaw, your warrior assessment is right around the corner, and you, you, of all cats, know the evil that haunts this place! Why would you come back here?"
He can hear it now in her voice, too: desperation. Only now does Stormpaw realize that Leopardstar is trembling. The fur along her spine is spiked. Her eyes are wide and pleading with him for an answer: Why would you bring us back to this place?
Guilt crawls all over Stormpaw's body. He looks down at his paws and fights back a wave of nausea because she's right, he has brought them back here. Dragged Hawkpaw here, forced Leopardstar to hunt them down, and sometimes- when he's bitter and angry and resentful, sometimes he still lives here in his mind. Sometimes he drags Mistyfoot and Featherpaw back with him.
I'm sorry, Stonefur, Stormpaw thinks, blinking back tears. I've tried being a good RiverClan cat, but I'm still stuck here, haunted.
A tail touches the top of his head. He looks up, into Leopardstar's eyes. "I'm sorry," he croaks.
"Stormpaw," she says, "let's go home."
Somehow, it sounds like both an apology and a promise.
Leopardstar waits for her apprentices to gather their strength, and then she leads the way home. Stormpaw follows close behind her, but when he looks back, Hawkpaw is dragging his paws. Their eyes meet and Stormpaw is just one compassionate decision away from slowing his pace and walking beside him.
Hawkpaw's gaze hardens and he breaks their contact, refusing to look at him anymore. I guess I deserve that, Stormpaw thinks, tired.
He doesn't know what to do with Hawkpaw anymore; he was right when he compared Stormpaw to their Clanmates for judging him simply about who his parents are and what mistakes they made. The acknowledgment makes Stormpaw feel sick in his stomach. But how are they supposed to go back to sparing or fishing or competing after tonight?
When they arrive back at camp, the entire Clan is awake and seemingly waiting for their return. Suddenly, panicked, Stormpaw wonders, Is Leopardstar going to tell everyone that she found us fighting at Bonehill? How could they defend themselves against that? What would Mistyfoot and Featherpaw say?
Speaking of Mistyfoot, she shoves herself straight to the front of the crowd and looks Stormpaw in the eye as she snaps, "Stormpaw, you had me worried sick! Where did you two go?"
Stormpaw swallows, his entire body ridged as his other Clanmates demand the same answer. In the back of camp, Featherpaw slips out of the apprentice den and approaches him with the same question in her eyes.
Hawkpaw stands beside him now, so stiff that he's going to faint. He won't tell the truth if I won't. But what other explanation could they possibly offer? Stormpaw's mind is completely blank and he's panicking.
"Well?" Blackclaw demands, coming to stand beside Mistyfoot. He looks at Leopardstar. "Why did they disappear tonight?"
"I bet Stormpaw was hanging around the ThunderClan border," Heavystep mutters, and Stormpaw nearly snaps.
"Of course Hawkpaw would go with him," Loudbelly agrees. "He hasn't got a drop of Clan blood in him. No loyalty to no one."
Stormpaw watches Hawkpaw unsheathe his claws and tenses.
"That's enough," Leopardstar speaks up suddenly. Stormpaw looks up at her; her expression is impossible to read. "I don't know what came over Stormpaw and Hawkpaw tonight, but I do know one thing: we have all made foolish mistakes when we were young and in love for the first time."
Silence falls upon the Clan. "What?!" Hawkpaw snaps, but his offense is drowned out by the rest of the Clan's sudden response.
"Ohh, of course! I should have guessed!"
"Well, Leopardstar is right, I made a fish-brain of myself when I had my first crush."
"Honestly, with so much tension it was only a matter of time until they sneaked off together."
Stormpaw is utterly horrified. He's only one more knowing remark away from announcing to the entire camp that they just tried to kill each other at Bonehill. He would almost prefer those reactions instead.
The way Mistyfoot is studying him now is like she's seeing him in a new light. Stormpaw opens his mouth to tell the truth-
Only for Leopardstar to wrap her tail around his muzzle and order, "Alright, that's enough humiliation for one night. Everyone, back to your dens. The dawn patrols will be sent out as soon as the sun turns the river gold and not a moment later!" Their Clanmates scatter at that. Mistyfoot shoots him one more knowing smile over her shoulder as Blackclaw pulls her away.
Stormpaw wishes the ground would split open and swallow him whole.
"Why," Hawkpaw finally asks, deathly calm, "did you say that?"
Leopardstar shrugs. "I didn't see either of you coming up with anything. You're welcome for covering your tails." She walks leisurely to her den and doesn't look back at them.
They're alone. Together. Alone together.
Stormpaw can feel Hawkpaw's gaze burning holes into the side of his head. He sighs and decides that he's ready for this night to be over, and he trudges all the way to the den. If Hawkpaw wants to stand outside and glare at Stormpaw from all the way across the camp, let him.
It's not like he's the one who just told all of RiverClan that they're in love with each other.
He stares up at the reed-woven ceiling and deadpans, "Is it too late to join ThunderClan?"
Featherpaw laughs so loud that all the way from across camp, still, Hawkpaw tells her to shut up.
The light of day brings new questions, such as,
"Stormpaw, why is one of your ears torn?!"
"Hawkpaw, where did that cut above your eye come from?"
They bite their tongues and stubbornly refuse to offer any explanations, even as Mudfur grumbles about hormones and foolish young love and smears ointment on their bruises.
The relentless teasing doesn't ease up. If Stormpaw and Hawkpaw are in the same general area for too long, somebody has a comment to make. Then it worsens to the point that they don't even have to be near each other.
Hawkpaw stomps up to him and demands, "Who in StarClan's name are Timberfur and Ottersplash, and why did Skyheart just compare us to them?"
Stormpaw sighs, loud and long. "You know Sedgecreek and Loudbelly?"
"Of course I do."
"Okay. Timberfur and Ottersplash were their parents." And then, because why not, Stormpaw adds, "They were infamous rivals before they became mates."
Hawkpaw glares at Stormpaw so intensely that his eye starts to twitch. "I should have killed you when I had the chance."
"It's not too late. Please, at this point, it would be an act of mercy."
Stormpaw opts to ignore the stupid teasing and petty remarks by focusing more on his training than ever before. He fishes and swims with Featherpaw but he still can't bring himself to lay a paw on her, so he seeks out Mothpaw instead when it comes time to spar.
Mothpaw's style is similar to her brother's; graceful, intentional, quick, RiverClan; except she pulls her strikes at the last moment whereas Hawkpaw always follows through with every deliberate move. After they go a few rounds, Stormpaw lifts his tail to pause and he says, "You know my warrior assessment is coming up any day now, right? You don't have to go easy on me."
Mothpaw winces slightly. "I know, I just… I don't care for sparing."
"You're not going to hurt me, I promise."
"That's not really my point. I don't know," she sighs. "It's weird. Hawkpaw says I don't sound like a warrior when I say this, but I don't like fighting, at all. It's not even interesting to me."
"What are you going to do when there's a battle, then?"
"I'll fight if I have to, but I hope it doesn't come to that." She looks at him with hopeful amber eyes. "There's been peace ever since my mother brought us to RiverClan, though. Do you think it'll always stay this way?"
"No. There's never peace forever. It's just a part of Clan life."
Mothpaw eyes him, almost uncertainly, and then she says, "I know it's none of my business, but… What are you going to do when we have to fight ThunderClan, then?"
Stormpaw's mouth goes dry at the thought, although it's not like he and Featherpaw haven't asked each other the same question a hundred times before. "I don't know," he answers honestly. "I've never fought them before, so it's never been an issue."
"But they're RiverClan's main rival. So if there's never peace forever, then you'll have to fight them one day."
"I know that," Stormpaw says, sharper than he means to. Mothpaw's ears flick back, and Stormpaw sighs. "Sorry, I just… I'll fight them. I have to. I'm a RiverClan cat. Mistyfoot and Stonefur are half-ThunderClan and they fought over Sunningrocks more times than they could count."
Gently, Mothpaw presses, "But they didn't find out about their mother until they were senior warriors. It's different when you're born knowing who you belong to, isn't it?"
Yeah, it is, Stormpaw doesn't say. He glares off to the side, frustrated. He looks forward to taking his assessment and receiving his warrior name, but what's the point if he's going to spend the rest of his life using it to hurt his father's Clan?
He startles when Mothpaw brushes against his shoulder. He looks at her, and she offers him a knowing smile. "It's a hard thing, trying to find where you belong. But I respect that you made a choice and you've always stuck with it, even when it isn't easy. And I respect you for not telling the Clan when you found out about our father."
Stormpaw blinks. "Hawkpaw told you that I know?"
"Of course he did. We're littermates." She tilts her head. "Didn't you tell Featherpaw, at least?"
"No."
"Oh. We just assumed you did. You two tell each other everything."
Not everything, Stormpaw thinks. He doesn't know how to explain that part of him is always holding his breath, waiting for something or someone to push Featherpaw over the edge. When they returned to RiverClan, Stormpaw didn't really return with his sister; he returned with someone less confident, more delicate.
Featherpaw likes Mothpaw and Hawkpaw; she trusts them as much as she can trust anybody these days. She considers them friends. He doesn't know what she would do if she found out that Tigerstar was their father. The revelation had almost been too much for Stormpaw to handle.
Instead Stormpaw says, "I never really had the opportunity to tell her, and now it just doesn't seem important. What does it matter Tigerstar is your father? You shouldn't be judged for the things he did."
Mothpaw smiles at him, really smiles at him, and it strikes Stormpaw that she doesn't have Tigerstar's amber eyes after all; Mothpaw, all of Mothpaw, is golden and warm like the sun.
"Leopardstar is going to assess you and Featherpaw tomorrow."
Stormpaw looks up from the river, startled. Hawkpaw's expression is one of disinterest, but he followed Stormpaw all the way to the river to give him a head's up, didn't he?
"Thanks. I'll tell Featherpaw."
Hawkpaw hums, nonchalantly, and then he just stands there. Silently. Staring.
"So… was that it, then?"
"How do you like training with my sister?" Hawkpaw asks, abruptly.
Stormpaw blinks. "Fine? She's good. You have similar styles."
"I'm better, though."
Ohh, so he's just being competitive. Stormpaw rolls his eyes. "Yes, Hawkpaw, you are."
"So then why did you ask her to train with you?"
"Because I'm trying not to spur on the rumors surrounding us?"
"We've always been sparing partners, it wouldn't be unusual."
"Maybe not, but the rumors haven't always been there either-"
"I don't know why you would let silly rumors affect your training-"
"Hawkpaw, are you jealous?" Stormpaw finally snaps, and Hawkpaw stiffens.
Tension crackles between them. Stormpaw stares at the other tom, demanding a response. He's acting so weird, so- so jealous like Stormpaw isn't allowed to spar with anybody else but him. What crawled up his tail and died?
He doesn't get an answer. Hawkpaw scoffs and says, "In your dreams. I hope you fail your assessment tomorrow, and I get my warrior name before you."
Hawkpaw turns around and stomps all the way back to camp, leaving Stormpaw frustrated and confused.
In the end, Hawkpaw doesn't get his wish. Stormpaw shoots him a smirk as Leopardstar begins his warrior ceremony.
"I, Leopardstar, leader of RiverClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in their turn. Stormpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"
Stormpaw catches Mistyfoot's eye where she sits at the bottom of Rockpile. She's gazing at him with pride shining in her blue eyes, and she gives him the slightest nod.
Stormpaw grins. "I do."
"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Stormpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Stormfur. StarClan honors your determination and your bravery, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan."
Leopardstar leaps from the Rockpile and comes to rest her muzzle on his head; he licks her shoulder, the same way that Feathertail did, and the entire Clan erupts into cheers.
"Feathertail, Stormfur! Feathertail, Stormfur!"
Their Clanmates rush to congratulate them; Mosspelt, Dawnflower, Mudfur, others. Shadepelt touches her nose to his and murmurs, "I'm proud of you, Stormfur, and I know that you've made Stonefur proud, too."
Stormfur swallows. "I wish he was here today."
"He is." Shadepelt's smile is watery. "He's watching over the both of us."
The rest of the evening passes by in a blur. There's a feast. So many cats congratulate Stormfur that he loses count of them, although a few cats noticeably do not go out of their way to speak to him or Feathertail; Blackclaw, Heavystep, Skyheart. He tries not to dwell on why. Today is meant to be a celebration.
It ends with Stormfur preparing to sit vigil. He's just waiting on Feathertail to finish up with Mistyfoot; they're murmuring on the outskirts of the camp. Mistyfoot is congratulating her again no doubt. He wonders if Mistyfoot will tell her that Silverstream would be proud of her, the same way that Shadepelt talked about Stonefur. Stormfur isn't sure that Mistyfoot understands, but he hopes she knows that it's a comparison that Feathertail is sick of.
He'd overheard Leopardstar discussing their warrior names right before the Ceremony; Featherstream had been thrown out there. Stormfur was relieved when Feathertail wasn't named in memory of anyone; she gets to be her own cat by name, at least.
"Hey."
Stormfur turns and there's Hawkpaw, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"Hey."
"Congratulations."
"Awful humble of you to say so," Stormfur says, teasing, and he watches Hawkpaw relax. "I didn't think you would have it in you to acknowledge that I received my name first."
"I won't be far behind you," Hawkpaw swears. "And my name will be cooler, too."
Stormfur rolls his eyes. "Always a competition with you." He doesn't mind though, not really. His rivalry with Hawkpaw is what pushed Stormfur beyond his limits, strengthened him, and in the end, it helped to ground Stormfur in RiverClan; gave him a relationship other than his kin and his mentor.
A friend?
Stormfur searches for the right words to say as much, but he's drawing a blank. Then Feathertail finally joins him and sets her tail on his back. "Ready for the longest night of your life?" She teases.
If only, Stormfur thinks dryly, remembering the night he ended up at Bonehill. Hawkpaw snorts as if he's thinking the same thing. What a twisted joke they share with each other.
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he replies. Feathertail dips outside the entrance and Stormfur turns to say something to Hawkpaw, maybe even an apology for that night, but Hawkpaw has already disappeared. Later, he tells himself before following Feathertail.
Maybe there's something magical about a warrior sitting their first vigil, or maybe Stormfur is too poetic. Either way…
It feels like the entire forest is at peace. The breeze smells sweet and combs through his fur. The night air is warm. Stars are scattered across Silverpelt, shining down on him like approval. He tries to count them, tries to pick out which ones are Stonefur, Crookedstar, Silverstream. He wonders if they've celebrated with him today.
Tonight, at least, Stormfur's blood isn't humming like thunder on the horizon; it's singing, softly, but it's nearly overwhelming. Maybe this is the divine that he grew up hearing stories about.
Feathertail shifts beside him and he glances at her; she's staring at the moon. It's a claw-moon, he realizes. After thinking it over, he nudges his sister.
She looks at him.
He nods at the moon, and then looks back at her, questioning. Are you going to see Graystripe tonight?
Feathertail holds his gaze for a long moment before shaking her head. Then she places her paw on top of his paw, and if Stormfur can read her mind, then she's thinking, We did it.
They've come a long way from the two half-blooded apprentices who were scared and unsure of where they belonged. From Bonehill to ThunderClan, now sitting vigil for RiverClan, sworn to protect it with their lives.
Stormfur grins at Feathertail, bunts their foreheads together, and agrees, Yeah. We did it.
This was technically the other half of chapter one but I decided to post FAB on ffn in more readable chunks, so here, it's chapter two!
I'm not sure how many chapters it'll end up being; around ten, probably.
Drop a review if you enjoyed this chapter and want to see more!