Disclaimer: I don't own the Warriors series!

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: I said, hey, girl with one eye

...

Willowthorn didn't go easy on Brightfur. The silver and white tabby set a punishing pace, just barely below a sprint, and hardly even glanced over her shoulder to see if she was following. The medicine cat had a sneaking suspicion she was still hurting from her accusations, and this was just one small way to get back at her.

In practically no time at all, the cats had cut through the territory and into the edges of the Twolegplace. The cool pavement tingled against her pads, which had become unaccustomed to the scenery. Brightfur's nostrils flared as they cut across Thunderpaths and skirted around dens. In the distance, a dog was barking. Let's just hope it stays far, far away.

Willowthorn's ears twisted back to listen. She didn't seem perturbed. "Did you know Twolegs let their dogs make dirt all over their territory? The dogs don't even bury it!"

Brightfur's muzzle scrunched up. "Gross."

"Twolegs just keep getting weirder and weirder," she went on. "They keep all sorts of things. Birds, lizards, adders. They don't even eat them! They're so rude, aren't they?"

"Sounds like it."

Willowthorn pouted. "You're no fun, you know that? Where's your sense of adventure?"

"My sense of adventure took me away from this place, you'll recall."

"You're like Brackenclaw, I swear. You've got burrs instead of fur." The young warrior gave her a gentle nudge. "I know you're nervous, but you're safe with me. We'll make a quick stop to the lot, then the gardens, and then be home before dawn patrol. Easy-peasy."

She makes it sound so simple, Brightfur thought ruefully. She wasn't quite sure how she felt, seeing a fellow ShadowClan cat be so informed about Twolegplace life. Like a WindClan cat swimming, it didn't come across as quite right. But it was better to have someone who knew what they were doing than some 'paw that'd run in front of a monster, so she took what she could get. "Do a lot of cats come to the lot?"

"I reckon a lot do."

"How dare you."

"Hey, you started it."

The lot reminded her of a Gathering, only the stars had mostly vanished behind the light pollution. An old chunk of pavement sat unused by a fence, the odd weed poking out in cracks and crevices. The air reeked of cats and trash as dark shapes slipped around streetlights. Chunks of fresh-kill were scattered about; Brightfur recognized mouse and seagull, but others alluded her. Maybe some of those creatures Willowthorn mentioned Twolegs keeping.

In spite of her earlier bravado, Willowthorn hesitated to cross the street and join them. "Just a quick look around, alright? I don't wanna cause trouble."

"For us, or them?"

"Both."

Brightfur dipped her head in acquiescence. If I wanted a fight, I could've stayed home.

The silver and white tabby pricked her ears, listening for signs of monsters, before finally twitching her tail in the signal to go. They trotted across the Thunderpath with an ease Brightfur didn't personally feel.

A familiar pelt flickered across the streetlamp as Clover came to greet them on the sidewalk, smiling chipperly. "Willow! And you managed to get Brightfur to come with you this time, huh?"

"That's easily the friendliest thing I've ever heard you say about me," Brightfur meowed, a bit surprised. "Or anyone say in awhile, honestly."

"Girl, you really need to raise your standards."

"Noted."

Willowthorn gave Clover a polite head bump. "I'm just gonna do a quick wind around. We need to head on over to the greenhouse for catnip and be back to the forest by dawn."

"Aren't you a bit old for curfews?"

"Some of us have to hunt for a whole bunch of cats," Willowthorn reminded her, whiskers twitching with amusement. "With my hunting skills, that takes me all day."

"Whack," she replied. Clover got a shrewd look in her eye. "How's about I take Brightfur for a little chat, then?"

Willowthorn hesitated. "You sure? She's not the best... conversationalist."

Brightfur's tail lashed. "I'm right here."

"No worries." A ginger-and-white tail wrapped itself around her haunches, locking Brightfur into a mass of fur. Clover winked. "I just wanna give us all a little closure."

Brightfur swallowed but didn't argue. That doesn't sound pleasant.

Clover quickly led Brightfur away. The hard pavement stung her paws as they wove between cats. Some of them looked up as they passed, but none of them went to speak or stop them. The wide variety of smells had her head swirling.

A flash of golden fur caught Brightfur's eye, and she looked forward to see the familiar pelt of Parsnip. Brightfur stumbled mid-step, only to be urged on by Clover, who looked more resolute than she did when they'd wandered away. Dread swallowed Brightfur whole as the kittypet turned her head to speak to another loner, flashing the furless patch of skin around her eyelid, now lacking an eye.

"She must hate me," she whispered.

"This isn't about you or her," Clover responded, then raised her voice. "Got a message for the lady of the house, Parsnip!"

The long-furred molly stood, looking around a moment to gauge where her friend was, before finally locking on Clover and Brightfur. Her expression brightened and twisted all at once as she trotted over, tail high. "Brightfur! What're you doing so far from the forest?"

Brightfur stared at her paws. It felt wrong to look at her face. "Willowthorn wanted me to see the catnip patch."

"The greenhouse?" Parsnip's ears flattened. "The sickness hasn't gotten worse, has it? The kits-"

"No. She just... wants me to trust her."

There was a pause as Parsnip studied her, turning to Clover. "Would you mind giving us a moment? I want to ask her things I don't want Smithy knowing."

"Sure thing. Take your time." Clover dipped her head and shambled off towards some rough-looking rogues, gesturing to the remnants of a possum. One casually moved it closer to her.

"You should be careful of her," Parsnip meowed softly. "She keeps coming home smelling like the forest. She's talking to someone, and I know it's not you. She'd tell us that much."

Brightfur went to dig her claws into the dirt, only to remember there was no dirt and retract them with a wince. Of all the cats wandering around here, she'd trusted Clover the most. She was blunt and honest, even about working with Smithy. The medicine cat didn't like the thought that she was hiding things from Parsnip and Mabel. "I will, thank you."

Parsnip's eye sharpened. "How are the kits? Are they safe?"

Brightfur felt a sharp twist of sadness in her chest. It was clear they were missed. "They're okay. One of the strongest warriors in the Clan is taking care of them, and soon they'll be old enough to be apprentices."

"Apprentices to what?"

"They'll learn to be warriors."

The kittypet seemed surprised. "You haven't started teaching them yet?"

"Kits have to wait until they're six moons old." Parsnip still seemed a little put off, so Brightfur barreled on. "I know we seem pretty violent to outsiders, but we would never willingly let kittens get hurt. Once they're old enough, they can learn all about hunting and fighting. They'll be warriors."

"You aren't exactly a great example of a great fighter, yourself."

"That's different. I'm a healer, and healers don't fight much." Brightfur took a risk and brushed Parsnip's shoulder with her nose. "Once Dewkit and Hazelkit are strong enough, I'll bring them back to you and Mabel. You'll see."

Parsnip snorted deliriously. "If they even remember us at that point. You even changed their names!"

"They won't forget. I'll make sure of it."

She glared at her a long moment, not trusting it for a second (which, for all she had survived, Brightfur figured was completely fair) before Parsnip let it go with a long sigh. "Look. The greenhouse has always been a bad place for cats to go. Lots of ghosts hiding inside. Willow didn't care about that, so I let her go in, but if this is going to be a habit..."

Brightfur tilted her head to the side. "Is it a burial ground?"

"Sort of. Just for cats who died wrong. Humans take us to the vet when we're sick, or old, and sometimes we don't come home. But not every cat is so lucky. Mabel buried Louie there after the fire." She hesitated before going on. "I think he's looking for her."

"Doubtful. Kittens usually get taken up by older spirits and taken to... well, wherever kittypets go. If Louie's making a ruckus there still, he's not alone." Brightfur reluctantly squared her shoulders. Hauntings were far from her area of expertise. In fact, she knew very little about them, other than they were uncommon. Usually it was an apprentice, wanting their warrior name, or a kitten trying to comfort their grieving parents. But that's all Clan stuff. Who know how kittypet ghosts work? "I'll give it a look through."

"Yeah?" Parsnip asked.

"Yeah," she promised. "I dunno if I'll be able to do much, but it's the least I can do."

Parsnip's eyelid fluttered closed with a hum. "Thank you, Brightfur. You're alright."

"If you say so," Brightfur meowed.

"You could've told me the greenhouse was haunted, you know."

Willowthorn's ears swiveled to show she'd heard. The quiet sidewalk was far less intimidating than the strange gathering, but it felt equally as dangerous. "You're a medicine cat, aren't you? Your whole job is to hang with the dead. I thought this would just be a walk in the park."

"So, you did see them?"

She hesitated, taken aback by the line of questioning. "I mean, I guess? A couple of boxes fell over while I was picking catmint. I knew better than to investigate."

So you aren't even sure it wasn't someone spying on you, Brightfur thought, but bit her tongue. Willowthorn led her down a set of wooden teeth, squeezing through one that had broken near the bottom. Once inside, the grass turned tall and scraggly, almost like the forest. Looks the Twolegs who made this place their own couldn't quite wrangle a grass-eating monster.

The greenhouse was even more alien to Brightfur than the Carrionplace had been. Sheets of a clear substance rose around a patch of dirt, like bubbles on a pond. Inside Brightfur could make out rows of carefully-planted foliage inside, most of which seemed to be in the fairly young stages of their lives. Brightfur could make out a few herbs- sage, poppy flowers, and even a bit of garlic. The rest didn't ring any bells.

Willowthorn, perhaps noticing her interest, said, "Clover says Twolegs grow all sorts of things in here, and most of them are to eat."

"Herbs?"

"No, just to eat."

Brightfur frowned. She couldn't imagine chewing on plants for nourishment- not out of desperation, at least. "Weird."

Willowthorn laughed and put on a burst of speed. Around the side of the building was a hole where a bubble should be. Shards of the clear stuff lay around nearby, carefully out of the way. Brightfur inhaled the sweet scent of dirt, growth, and water before slipping inside, feeling her shoulders relax slightly. This was familiar.

As was the black pelt that shimmered just in front of the catmint, tail wrapped neatly around its paws.

Brightfur felt like a badger had slapped her. "It's you."

Berryshade tilted her head to the side a little. Her eyes were pure white. "I'm who?"

Author's Note: I know, I know, this took flipping FOREVER. This is a pivotal part of the story, so I'm kind of waffling a bit on it- not out of reluctance, but to try and keep it from being too much of a whirlwind!

Next chapter is gonna be more interesting! Ghostly shenanigans, Brightfur realizing she doesn't have to take crap from anyone, and maybe kind-of sort-of murder. I haven't decided 100% on that part yet.

-Mandaree1