Chapter 29

The intermittent showers over the next few days did little to halt their progress. Tinyclaw hoped that the water would soothe the soil and help the forest begin to regrow – and at the very least the heat that had plagued the forest before the fire had been dampened considerably. Now it felt like a normal greenleaf, even cooler now that the trees couldn't capture the humidity in their leaves.

The sky ought to be clear for the Gathering, Tinyclaw thought, still looking up. The clouds were wispy and gray but there were considerable patches of blue sky between them. By tonight, it all ought to be gone. No clouds to shroud the moonlight.

For once, though, Tinyclaw wanted the moon hidden. He didn't want to travel all the way to Fourtrees just to show the Clans that Tigerstar was growing more and more obviously negligent. If the fire didn't draw the Clans to attack ThunderClan in a moment of weakness, seeing Tigerstar the way he was would – the formerly confident tabby warrior would only leave the den if Whitestorm convinced him now, and only for enough time to nod at the Clan's progress before retreating. Would he even care that there was a Gathering tonight? Did he remember?

Tinyclaw shook his mind of the thoughts for a moment and got to his paws, padding around the perimeter of the camp. Seeing the restoration progress made his heart swell with pride – it was difficult, grueling work, but it was being done, and being done well. Dustpelt turned out to be exceptionally good with the repairs – he had quite the mind for it. With his guidance, the camp was beginning to regain its shape.

The hollowed-out elder's den was blackened and burnt, its protective branches and vines burned away, but it was still in one piece. The nursery was a skeleton of its former self, all protective thorns and thick branches burned to small blackened twigs – but Dustpelt had the apprentices weaving tougher branches through the gaps, filling in the holes. It didn't look as welcoming, but it certainly looked impregnable. Dustpelt had applied the technique in the camp's outer barrier, too; in place of the ferns that had once lushly sheltered the camp from prying eyes there was a tightly-woven barrier of tough branches. Gaps everywhere were filled in with what remained of the leaves in the forest. It wasn't all done yet, but Tinyclaw had to admit it looked more than formidable.

If we do go to the Gathering tonight, Tinyclaw thought, I'll need to make sure Dustpelt's work gets mentioned. It's impeccable.

Tinyclaw's ears twitched as they picked up a scratching behind the nursery. He discovered Cloudpaw there, mouth stuffed with leaves and twigs as she worked with them, weaving them into the gaps that still remained there.

He had to call to her twice before she heard, and when she turned Tinyclaw understood why. The poor cat was exhausted. She had been working twice as hard as almost any cat since they returned, volunteering to work even when other cats were beyond tired. No cat questioned her loyalty or her commitment now – Cloudpaw was becoming almost as good a builder as Dustpelt.

"Go and rest," Tinyclaw told her gently. "You've more than earned it."

"I'm not done yet," she replied tiredly.

"You can finish it later."

"I'd like to do it now," she insisted.

"You're dead on your paws," Tinyclaw told her. An attack can come at any time – the old mantra chilled him but it was true, especially with the camp so exposed and their warriors so exhausted. "Go and rest; that's an order."

Cloudpaw sighed. "Yes, Tinyclaw." The young she-cat glanced at the elder's den. Smallear was there, with One-eye and Dappletail. They were talking quietly, but their eyes had been full of sorrow since they'd returned. "It's so… empty now," she lamented.

"Patchpelt and Halftail are watching them from StarClan," Tinyclaw told her. "They're watching you, too."

Cloudpaw sighed, as if the assurance wasn't enough for her. But she padded onward, leaving Tinyclaw frowning. Brackenfur had spoken the proper words to send their spirits to StarClan – but only after Tigerstar had refused. "I will not let StarClan hold a single warrior of ThunderClan hostage," he'd ranted. "They will not use them against us! They are undeserving after all they've done!"

Tinyclaw watched Cloudpaw flop down beside the apprentice's den. Brightpaw and Swiftpaw met her there, both looking more energized than her. Brightpaw spoke something to Swiftpaw, sending the young cat to the fresh-kill pile and back while Brightpaw huddled next to Cloudpaw, their ginger-and-white pelts almost matching. Swiftpaw returned with a scraggly mouse and then huddled against Cloudpaw's other side, licking her ear rhythmically before he and Brightpaw began to groom Cloudpaw's grubby pelt.

Frown deepening, Tinyclaw looked away. He sighed. He was glad that Cloudpaw had such kind, loyal friends – their attentiveness to one another reminded him of how he and Graystripe had been, reminded him of how much he missed his friend.

Tinyclaw turned his paws towards the Highrock. Longtail stood guard there, and he nodded as Tinyclaw approached. The lichen that had once screened Tigerstar's den from view had been burned away, and Tinyclaw could see right through to Tigerstar himself inside. Brackenfur was with him. Tigerstar looked as if he hadn't groomed himself since the fire.

Uttering a greeting, Tinyclaw stepped inside.

"More medicine?" Tigerstar huffed, narrowing his eyes at Brackenfur. Tigerstar's voice was soft – at least he still had tact enough not to let every cat hear him. "Every day with this, Brackenfur. I don't need medicine!"

"Yes, you do," Brackenfur stated simply. His voice was soft, too. "It's the best thing for you right now, Tigerstar. It will soothe those thoughts you have. Ease your fears."

"I don't… want them right now," Tigerstar sighed. There was a somewhat practiced resignation to his tone, as if he and Brackenfur had this discussion routinely now.

"They'll be here when you do," Brackenfur said. "Just be sure to take them."

The golden brown tom seemed satisfied with that. He got to his paws and limped towards the exit, passing Tinyclaw along the way. "Don't worry," he said as he padded out, "he does always take the medicine, eventually."

Tinyclaw coughed, and then cautiously padded closer to Tigerstar. The big tabby leader was staring at his medicine as if it might leap up and attack him. Now Tigerstar was jumping at leaves, it seemed, along with everything else. Tinyclaw felt at his wit's end with how to handle this.

"What is it?" Tigerstar wondered. His tone was tired, and he didn't look at Tinyclaw.

"Oh, well." Tinyclaw hadn't expected to be addressed; perhaps Tigerstar's interaction with Brackenfur had woken him up, so to speak. "I'm here about the Gathering, Tigerstar. I'm wondering if we're going tonight, and who we're taking."

"The Gathering?" Tigerstar echoed. His eyes unfocused, as if he were puzzling out the word – and then they hardened. "You go. You decide. I will not be attending any more Gatherings. I've no reason to honor StarClan any long-" he broke off as a cloud of ash flowed through the open entrance, causing him to wheeze. "Any longer."

Tinyclaw froze in shock. Tigerstar coughed afterward, his large body wracked with spasms. Yet Tinyclaw could hardly react to that – Tigerstar not going to a Gathering?! He, the cat who had taught Tinyclaw the importance of honoring and remembering their warrior ancestors, refusing to do so? Tinyclaw stared in disbelief. Tigerstar had based his whole life on these beliefs, same as any Clan cat.

"You don't have to go to honor StarClan," he tried. "B-But… you could be there for your own Clan! To show we're not weak, to give ThunderClan your strength!"

Tigerstar narrowed his eyes at Tinyclaw. "My strength? If I had been strong, truly strong… I would have ignored StarClan when they said I had a great destiny. I would have leapt at the chance to be with Goldenflower and the kits. Is this my destiny, Tinyclaw? Is this what StarClan promised? To lose my kin and friends and have my Clan harried by threats at every turn, all for some destiny?"

The old leader's eyes hardened into amber claws. "StarClan was wrong," he growled. "None of this was worth it."

Tinyclaw swallowed, trying to keep from trembling as he backed out of Tigerstar's den. Sandstorm had replaced Longtail outside, and thank StarClan it seemed like she had heard none of that. She looked concernedly at him, but Tinyclaw could not seek her comfort – he gave her an apologetic blink before padding away.

Disconcerted, Tinyclaw flicked his tail at Whitestorm as the old warrior padded in with the sunhigh patrol. The other cats dispersed while Whitestorm came to meet him – it didn't seem like anything was amiss. Thank StarClan, like Tinyclaw needed that right now.

"Tigerstar isn't well enough to go to the Gathering," Tinyclaw reported quietly.

The news was no shock to Whitestorm. "There was a time when nothing would have kept him from attending," he murmured. "What is your plan?"

"We'll take a party anyway," Tinyclaw decided. "The other Clans need to be warned about Bluefur and her rogues, and no doubt they'll be expecting us as a no-show thanks to the fire, anyway."

Whitestorm sighed. "It's inviting trouble if the Clans think Tigerstar is weak," he pointed out.

"It's inviting more if we don't go at all," Tinyclaw countered.

"WindClan is still hostile," Whitestorm reported. "Their scent markers are stronger than ever."

"The fact that Sandstorm, Cloudpaw, and I fought and won a fight on their territory is the likely explanation," Tinrclaw sighed. "And then there's RiverClan – who knows what they might ask in return for sheltering us?" He could envision Leopardfur casually demanding Sunningrocks, as if ThunderClan didn't already need every pawstep of territory to hunt right now.

"It's sure to be exciting," Whitestorm breathed. His tone stated he wished it would be anything but. "At least ShadowClan is weakened by sickness. A small mercy."

Tinyclaw nodded, feeling guilty. ShadowClan's suffering was terrible, but it meant that they were too busy to focus energy on attacking ThunderClan right now. "The news about Bluefur might work in our favor," he added. "It might inspire the other Clans to focus on their own borders for a while, rather than attacking each other."

"True," Whitestorm agreed. "You're right – even without Tigerstar, we cannot miss this Gathering. We need this opportunity to buy time to recover." His sandy yellow eyes narrowed at Tinyclaw. "You're becoming very good at inter-Clan politics, Tinyclaw."

"Is that a good thing?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"Of course," the old warrior stated. "It's an essential skill for a leader."

Tinyclaw frowned, but he didn't ask whether that was a good thing – because he knew the answer, and he knew what it meant. Tigerstar's flat out refusal to go to the Gathering despite being able to… it meant that Tinyclaw was going to have to step up more than ever.

The Clan took a paltry meal before beginning to form up for the Gathering party. Tinyclaw's own tiny shrew barely filled his belly – the entire Clan was running half-empty. The forest prey was beginning to return, but ThunderClan would have to take a hit in terms of hunger for some time. If they overhunted, and too quickly, the prey would never come back.

Tinyclaw felt all eyes on him as he stood upon the Highrock. No one outright stated that he shouldn't be there (again) but it was clear that he was beginning to make a habit of breaking proper protocol. It's not my fault, Tinyclaw lamented. He took a deep breath and announced, "Tigerstar will not be attending this Gathering."

Shocked meows followed as eyes widened and tails bristled with alarm. Tinyclaw wondered if Tigerstar could hear any of this, now that the barrier of lichen over his den was gone. If he could… what did he think? How much could the Clan realize about their leader's state of mind now? How many doubts were confirmed? They had stood behind him in the RiverClan camp but now it was more than clear that something was up, and Tigerstar's weakness left them vulnerable and afraid.

"Does this mean we're not going?" Cinderpelt wondered from within the crowd.

"No," Tinyclaw called, and voices stilled. "ThunderClan will go to Fourtrees tonight. The other Clans must know that we are strong despite the fire." There were mews of agreement, though some cats still kneaded their paws worriedly at attending a Gathering without their leader. "We cannot betray any weakness – we must remind them we are strong. That we are ThunderClan!"

There were cheers at his words. "ThunderClan! ThunderClan!" some called – mostly apprentices, who had little idea what going to a Gathering without your Clan leader meant. Still, his Clanamtes straightened their backs, and some began washing their ash-stained fur.

"I will take Mousefur, Dustpelt, Sandstorm, Whitestorm, Ashpaw, and Cloudpaw," Tinyclaw called.

"Will those that remain be enough to defend us?" Brindleface wondered.

"Bluefur will know there's a Gathering," Oakheart stated. His eyes were hard as he spoke his former mate's name, something he didn't often do. "She may attempt to attack."

"I know you will guard the camp well, then, Oakheart," Tinyclaw decided. He met Oakheart's eyes evenly, and for a moment Tinyclaw feared some sort of protest – but then Oakheart nodded his dappled tabby head. It was a duty he would take on with his life.

"You know if we go with too few cats, others will see it as weak," Mousefur added. "That fire was noticed by every Clan – it's not just Bluefur we've got to worry about."

Hopefully we won't be the only ones worrying about Bluefur after tonight, Tinyclaw thought. "Are we agreed, then? Those that remain will guard the camp. Oakheart will ensure every cat's safety."

Worries were slowly melting away, and Tinyclaw saw some cats nodding. He hid a sigh of relief as he meowed, "Then it's time for us to be off," before leaping down the Highrock to join the others.

His Gathering party was waiting impatiently by the entrance of the camp, paws kneading the earth and whiskers twitching. Cloudpaw was among them, her eyes large and bright. This would be her first Gathering, and Tinyclaw had waited for this moment since he had brought her here. Though it would be nothing like his first Gathering – racing after strong, powerful warriors through the forest on the way to Fourtrees. The cats surrounding her were smoke stained and starving, but Cloudpaw didn't seem to care.

"Longtail," he called. The striped warrior paused, frowning. He wasn't chosen for the Gathering party. Tinyclaw told him: "You will be a senior warrior tonight. Work together with Oakheart and keep the Clan safe. I know you'll do well."

Longtail's eyes glittered with surprise at the praise. "Thank you," he breathed. "I'll do my best."

Tinyclaw turned to the others. "Let's go," he declared finally, and he led the way out into the forest.

The ash was sticky underpaw as they raced through the quiet forest, even quieter now that the trees had no leaves to rustle. Beneath the dark earth there was the scent of hope – green shoots soon to come through the ash and soot and return the forest to its former glory. Soon, but not soon enough.

He glanced back. Cloudpaw was keeping up well, a white streak beside Whitestorm in the gloom. Sandstorm was charging ahead, looking to keep pace with him. Tinyclaw let her – there was no use in trying to outrun Sandstorm.

"You spoke well," she panted. "On the Highrock, I mean. The Clan needed to hear that."

"Thanks," Tinyclaw huffed.

They paused, clambering up a slope. "I'm sorry if what I said hurt you," Sandstorm meowed. "About Tigerstar being weak. Everything is going well, considering…"

"Considering I'm deputy?"

Sandstorm sighed. "Considering it's all been burnt to the ground," she stated firmly. "Don't listen to everything the others say. You're doing an amazing job despite everything the world seems to be throwing at us."

Tinyclaw frowned. "Do you think StarClan is punishing us?" he wondered. "With all the deaths and the fire, I mean."

Sandstorm blinked at him, puzzled. "No," she decided. "Sometimes bad things just happen, and sometimes… a lot of bad things happen at once. Eventually there's good to balance it out."

Tinyclaw blinked gratefully at her. "Thanks," he meowed. "Sandstorm, that means a lot, and -"

"Hey," Mousefur cut in, "have you thought about what you're going to tell the Clans?"

Tinyclaw opened his jaws to reply, but closed them to leap a fallen tree. His paw caught on one of its branches, causing him to tumble to the earth. He pushed himself onto all fours as soon as he could, paw throbbing. The others had gone on ahead, but Sandstorm lingered.

"Are you all right?" she wondered.

"Of course," Tinyclaw mewed back. "My mistake."

She kept pace with him as they trotted, catching up to the Clan as they gathered at the hill overlooking Fourtrees. There were other Clans there already, cats mingling and chatting in the full moon's light. There was barely a cloud in the sky.

Tinyclaw's paw was still throbbing as he stopped to catch his breath and figure out exactly what he was going to say. It was likely the words wouldn't sound as good as they did inside his head. There were bound to be so many questions, especially about Bluefur. His Clanmates looked at him impatiently, and Tinyclaw pushed himself out of his own head.

He raised his tail, giving the signal that Tigerstar had given so many times, and ThunderClan streamed into the Gathering.