Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors!

Title: Red Pearls

Summary: Brightfur just wanted to be a medicine cat. Her mentor, Ravenwind, has very different ideas on what that means- for her and for ShadowClan. With Ravenwind controlling her every move and more than willing to kill to keep it that way, Brightfur will need more than just luck to live to tell the tale.

Chapter Title: Oh no she's hot

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walkswithwheels- Long story short Ravenwind is digressing- has been since the start tbh. That's part of why her mode of killing has been less planned out and singular and more 'hey here's a cliff I'mma toss Leafleg over' or 'I'mma drown this cat in the middle of my own territory bc that's smart'. Giving Slatestar the poisoned raven was both A.) a way to curb Brightfur attempting this behavior again and B.) a way to 'strike the fear of StarClan' into Slatestar as a way to try and make her more dependent on Ravenwind's word. (The analysis you did was really awesome by the way! It means a lot to me that folks care enough about these characters to think stuff through with them)

...

Things settle into a form of routine; Brightfur slips into the Twolegplace by day, catching herself something to eat and finding herbs to treat the burns on Huey. Parsnip offers her some of her slop, but the smell alone makes her a bit ill, so she politely refused. She smells like kittypet and plants, wiping away almost all trace of her Clan heritage, and none of the loners so much as glance at her. Brightfur returns and watches over the boys while Mabel goes off to do her own hunting- Brightfur notices with some unease that the kittypet was trying to get Huey and Dewey interested in fresh-kill and hunting, not Twolegs and being stroked. She hoped Mabel didn't expect her to take them home.

Clover came by every chance she could, carrying branches and leaves she helps build into a rough nest-shape for Brightfur, hidden under the bushes in Mabel's little circle. Sometimes, when there's nothing to do, the medicine cat would wait and watch as Twolegs went about the garden, plucking up plants and sticking others into the ground. She wonders if they're hunting for Twoleg herbs.

One morning in particular, Brightfur stirred a little, but was quickly slipping back into sleep. The sun warmed through her pelt like a soak in the river. She felt something shift behind her, winding around like a coil.

Tiny squeaking penetrated her ears just in time for the figure to leave, plunging her side into chill. Brightfur shuddered and pulled closer to herself, tail wrapping around her nose.

"What are you doing?" someone asked. Brightfur's brow pinched at it. Why does she sound so familiar?

Next to speak was Dewey. The gray tom was healing very well, only breaking into the odd little fit. "'M climbing."

"Do you think that's smart?"

"You said guests were coming!" he returned, sounding hurt. "I wanna see them!"

"You won't see much of anything if you fall and squish your nose."

Dewey laughed. "You're so silly, Berrysh-"

Brightfur exploded to her paws with a gasp. Something cold squeezed her chest as she looked desperately around. The medicine cat took a few steps out of the bush and sniffed the air. There was nothing. It was just a dream. She slumped, ears and tail falling flat.

"Miss?" She turned toward a big tree. At the roots sat Dewey, staring at her with almost bug-eyed shock. "Are you okay? You've never jumped like that before."

She sighed and shook her head. No need to worry him. "It's nothing, Dewey."

It wasn't, of course. Longing for Berryshade had been harder and harder for Brightfur to shake as of late. She sought the molly out almost constantly, hoping to catch a flash of black fur that would lead to her wayward littermate, but nothing had come of it. She's probably long gone by now, Brightfur thought gloomily. Why would she want to stay so close to the Clan that turned her away?

Tiny claws scrabbling on bark caught her attention. In the time Brightfur had spent contemplating, Dewey had started up the tree, his haunches wriggling with determination. She got to her feet and slowly walked over to the trunk, watching with mild curiosity as the kit found tiny footholds. She joined him on the first branch. Dewey leaned on her side as he caught his breath. She could hear just the smallest hitch in his chest.

"Need some juniper berries?" she asked mildly.

Dewey shook his head, panting.

"Hey!" Huey yelped, having just woken up. The injured kit was at the base of the tree, squinting up at them with a peeved expression. "You can't go climbing without me! It's not fair!"

"Then get up here!" Dewey shot back, whiskers twitching.

Brightfur soon had two kittens at her paws, bickering back and forth. She stifled a purr and stared out over the backyards and fences. They reminded her so much of Lionpaw and Tigerpaw. She twisted a paw to look at the dark, hard pads underneath. She was growing adjusted to the harsh Thunderpaths and other Twoleg things. I could be anything, she realized suddenly. I could be a house cat, if I wanted to be. I could be WindClan or RiverClan or most anything else. All it takes is time and work.

"Why are we up here?" Huey asked suddenly.

Dewey shrugged. "We've got visitors coming."

Brightfur soon found herself dozing- a small part of her was embarrassed for doing it, falling asleep sitting up like an elder- but she was warm and a night of tossing and turning hadn't done her much good.

"Brightfur!"

She came to her senses with a snort. Brightfur licked her paw and scrubbed the crust from her eyes. The medicine cat blinked a few times to regain her bearings. Just over the wooden fence was two very familiar cats, and a complete stranger.

"Brightfur!" Brackenclaw called again. "Are you in there?"

Willowpaw turned to the stranger, a dusty gray tom. "Are you sure this is the place? The Twolegplace seems full of houses like these."

"It's the place," he grunted. "It's Mabel's garden."

Brightfur did a great leap from the tree limb to the ground, haring over to the fence. She was shocked to see her rule-abiding brother so far from Clan territory, especially if he was bringing his apprentice with them. She bounded up and over, landed in front of them. "What're you doing here?"

Brackenclaw stared at her. "What am I- are you fluff-brained? What do you think I'm doing here?" His dark tabby fur fluffed out defensively, tail lashing. "You just up and disappeared! We were starting to think you were hurt- or worse!"

"Ah," said Brightfur, feeling pretty dumb. She'd never considered that they'd go looking for her, or that they'd worry. One moment she was angry at Ravenwind, the next she was helping a hurting family, and the details in-between were kind of fuzzy. "And Willowpaw?"

The silver and white tabby beamed. "I bugged him until he let me go with."

The gray tom cleared his throat. "I should- I should probably get goin'," he meowed. His voice was gruff to Brightfur's ears. "I'm glad you folks found each other."

Brightfur bumped his nose, a movement that clearly surprised him. "Come by tommorrow," she suggested. "I'll catch you a meal. It's only fair."

He managed a weary smile. "I'd appreciate that."

Brackenclaw waited until the loner had vanished down the sidewalk to roughly nudge her. "We're not going to be here tommorrow, Brightfur. We gotta get back."

"If you want to head back, be my guest," she said, turning away. Part of Brightfur wanted him to stay. Wanted him to see the little hollow and her nest and the kittens and like them as much as she did. But he wouldn't. He never would. "I'm not leaving until Huey and Dewey are better."

"Brightfur," he sighed, frustrated. "You can't just drop everything for a bunch of kittypets."

Brightfur said nothing.

There was a grunt of effort, and then Clover was on top of the fence, glaring down at Brackenclaw. "And why not?" she hissed, having clearly overheard. "You got a problem with kittypets, bub?"

Brackenclaw flinched a solid step or so back, ears flat. "Uh..."

"Do you even know what a kittypet is?" Brightfur meowed, amused by the sheer gobsmacked terror on her brother's face.

"I do not." She hopped down. Clover was just a smidge taller than Brackenclaw, but at a time like this it felt like the molly towered over him as she shoved her muzzle against his. "But I don't gotta be a genius to know it means cats like me 'n Mabel 'n Parsnip."

Brackenclaw swallowed. "Ma'am, when I said-"

"Save it, bark-for-brains. You wanna see kittens die?"

"Ma'am?"

"Kittens, bozo. Fluffy little balls of fur." Clover gestured to the fence. "'Cause we've got two littleuns susceptible to infection if they aren't cared for properly back there, and Brightfur is the only thing keeping them comfortable while they heal." She bared her teeth. "You try and take her from them, we're gonna have issues."

Willowpaw let out a delighted cackle. "I want you to be my mentor."

The dark tabby cleared his throat. "I would never- I mean, it's against the code to let kittens be hurt." Clover stared him down, unimpressed. He quickly added: "And even if it wasn't, it's still wrong! I- I didn't know it was so serious, ma'am. My apologies."

Clover looked at Brightfur. "I assume you know this guy?"

"He's my brother."

"Real stick in the mud, I see." She turned back to him. "You staying or not?"

"I..." He paused. "Yes, ma'am."

Clover nodded. "Good. I'll see about finding you a place to sleep tonight, and you can help Brightfur find s'more aloe. We're running low."

Brackenclaw dutifully bobbed his head, but by then Clover had vanished over the fence.

Willowpaw leaned over and nudged his shoulder. "You okay?"

"She was..." Brackenclaw stared at the empty space she left. "She was really pretty."

Author's Note: Brackenclaw, spotting a cat that could kick his tail: Oh no she's hot

Next chapter'll definitely have more exposition/explanations about Smithy and other such things, so look forward to that!

-Mandaree1