Chapter 11
Mistyfoot wandered through the fog, each step more uncertain than the last. The thick mist made it difficult for her to see where she was going, and it seemed to make this gloomy forest even darker and more foreboding than usual.
She had always felt like this was someplace she shouldn't be, but that feeling was even stronger now when it seemed like she had somehow wandered off her intended path. The mist seemed to drag along her pelt like grasping claws, and it made her shiver.
Mistyfoot's whiskers trembled. Normally, she would've found Bluestar by now, or Bluestar would've found her - but that hadn't happened, and it didn't seem like Mistyfoot was getting any closer to a place that made sense, but she didn't want to know what might happen if she stopped moving now.
She didn't dare speak, either - if she really was somewhere she shouldn't be, the last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself. She had no idea whether or not Bluestar was the only dead cat who wandered these starless woods.
The dream will end soon, she told herself over and over. It was the only thing keeping her from losing hold of her wits entirely. I'll wake up, and everything will be okay.
She only half-believed that last part. Wounds taken in this place followed her into the daylight, so what would happen if she was somehow so lost that she never woke up? What would happen to her body then?
Mistyfoot swallowed around the lump that formed in her throat. Don't spiral, she told herself harshly. You're a warrior, for StarClan's sake!
There had to be some way out. The mist obscured anything in sight for a long way, though, and Mistyfoot could barely hear her own pawsteps - it felt like her ears were clogged with cotton. She wasn't surprised by the scent of heavy moisture when she sniffed the air, cloying and covering up the usual mustiness of the gloomy forest.
But there was something else, something beneath the musty smell that made Mistyfoot's pelt prickle ominously.
Every instinct told her not to stop, but she had to, or she feared she might lose it. She halted in the middle of the fog, trying to ignore the ghostly claws running through her pelt, leaving trails of ice behind them on her skin. Steadying herself with a deep breath, Mistyfoot opened her jaws again.
There, beneath the suffocating smells of fog and forest, was that scent. It was something that tickled in her mind, something familiar. She knew this scent - but why couldn't she place it?
Wait... Isn't that-?
The foggy claws suddenly became real, digging hard into Mistyfoot's pelt. She yelped in shock as she was forcefully dragged down into the mist. She flailed her paws and called for help, but she struck nothing but the gray wall rising above her, and her voice died in her throat as she choked on the impossibly thick air.
Deprived of all senses, Mistyfoot fell, and fell, and fell...
Thorns gently raked Mistyfoot's pelt, sending a shiver down her spine as she stepped into the stone hollow.
Rainwhisker, Cloudtail, and Dustpelt filed in behind her, their mouths full of prey - Cloudtail had managed to run down a massive rabbit, which stained her chin bright red. Rainwhisker had managed not just a squirrel but two mice as well, and Dustpelt, determined to show up the younger cats, had managed to track down a nest of voles and had the lot of them dangling by their tails from his jaws.
Mistyfoot's catch, in comparison, was pitiful. She had tried her best but had only managed to stop one of Dustpelt's voles from escaping. It was, without a doubt, a terrible showing from the deputy of ThunderClan, possibly one of her worst hunting days since she was an apprentice.
She blamed her dream, which had haunted her from the moment she woke up. Every brush of undergrowth felt like the mist clinging to her pelt, threatening to drag her down, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get that scent out of her nose - something that wouldn't be so bad if she knew what or who it belonged to in the first place.
At least the camp was peaceful. Bright sunhigh light shone down through the trees at the top of the hollow, dappling the stone walls and grassy clearing with sunny pawprints. Two days had passed since Sorreltail had woken the Clan with her horrible, gut-wrenching screams, and after burying Molekit, ThunderClan could begin to heal and enjoy the presence of young blood in their camp for the first time since they had left the old forest.
"Rainwhisker, why don't you give your catch to Sorreltail?" Mistyfoot suggested. It was far easier to talk around her meager catch.
The gray tom laid his catch at his paws. "I can, yeah," he mewed. "Three kits are a lot to care for, and she's still recovering."
Cloudtail's eyes sparkled. "Daisy might want some, too!"
The fur along Rainwhisker's spine rose. He sputtered, "S-She might, y-yeah!"
Cloudtail's tail curled over her back, and she purred in amusement. She nudged Rainwhisker with her shoulder and meowed, "Go on, then!"
Rainwhisker about jumped out of his pelt, quickly snatching up his catch and hurrying across camp. Mistyfoot couldn't help but purr - if he moved any quicker to get out of the situation, he'd have kicked up a cloud of dust.
Dustpelt scoffed around his catch. "Young cats," he muttered. "You fall in love too easily these days."
"Oh, lay off him, Dustpelt," Cloudtail huffed. "He's got a crush, so what?"
They began heading towards the fresh-kill pile, passing the nursery on the way. Out of the corner of her eye, Mistyfoot spotted Rainwhisker offering some of his catch to Daisy, who was in the grotto with her kittens. The queen took one of the mice, and Mistyfoot saw Rainwhisker beaming before he fell out of sight.
The fresh-kill pile was tucked around the other side of the fallen tree that protected the nursery, hidden in a shallow scoop in the ground and sheltered by a hunk of boulder that had shorn off of the stone wall ages ago. Cloudtail tossed her rabbit into the darkness and then began to rub her bloodied chin against the grass.
"Just let him have fun, is all I'm saying," Cloudtail went on. She tossed about, rolling onto her back and stretching all four legs in the air like a kittypet might. "He's lost his brother and his nephew and nearly lost his sister. It's nice to see him smile."
Dustpelt was halfway into the fresh-kill pile, pawing through it for something to eat. "Even if Daisy ends up leaving us? What happens to his smile then?"
Cloudtail's tail whipped back and forth as she rolled herself onto her belly. She shook some stray grass from her ears and mumbled, "This is why you're no fun, Dustpelt."
It was then that both of them glanced expectantly at Mistyfoot. She balked, her fur prickling uncomfortably. The last thing she wanted was to get in between Dustpelt and Cloudtail, two of the loudest, most oppositional voices in ThunderClan. The vole was blessedly still in her mouth, and she mumbled around it, "Not touching this!" and turned about, whisking her tail.
She quickly trotted away, heading across the camp. To her relief, Nightfrost was coming out of the medicine cat's cave, pausing outside the lichen wall to shake his pelt. By the time he was done, Mistyfoot was close enough to gesture with her tail - a request to share her prey.
"Not hungry, myself," Nightfrost admitted, "I ate with Brackenfur earlier - but yeah, I'll sit with you."
They sat off to the side, in the space between the medicine cat's cave and the boulders that led up to the Highledge. The grass here was short, and the ground was flat, making it a good spot to eat and the tumble of boulders was smooth and safe, which made them good spots for sunning.
Nightfrost hopped onto a lower one to do just that, stretching each leg in turn before he laid down; his black pelt turned a warm orange in the sun. He yawned big, sighing, "It's harder work than it seems to help out Brackenfur, but Shadepool's been so busy making sure Sorreltail's kits are okay that she hasn't been able to do it herself."
"It's good that you're helping," Mistyfoot purred. Someone had to, and poor Larchpaw couldn't do it all on his own.
Nightfrost nodded. "I don't mind," he said, sounding sleepy. "Daisy's been distracted by Sorreltail, too. She wants to help her out as much as she can. I don't think I could ever convince her to hunt right now."
Mistyfoot took a bite of her vole, chewing thoughtfully. It was kind of Daisy to offer that kind of help, and it took a lot of pressure off the medicine cats - but what if Daisy decided to leave? How would Sorreltail feel then? Mistyfoot frowned. Was it wise for Sorreltail and Rainwhisker to get so attached to a cat they might never see again?
"How are the kits? Do you know?" Mistyfoot asked, swiping her tongue across her lips.
Nightfrost opened one eye. "Poppykit and Honeykit are okay," he mewed, "but Shadepool is really worried about Cricketkit. He's a lot smaller than his sisters. Shadepool thinks he might have developed some sort of problem, being stuck for so long."
Mistyfoot frowned. Her paws itched at the thought of one of her Clanmates struggling in any way. She hadn't had the chance to go and see the kits yet - no one had, as Tinystar had insisted they let Sorreltail rest. She sent a silent prayer to StarClan that Cricketkit would be okay.
We're ThunderClan, she thought determinedly. Snowstep, Longtail, Brightheart, Swiftfoot... We've made warriors out of cats no other Clan would bother with before. Whatever Cricketkit suffered in the future, she knew Tinystar would not let him fall to the wayside.
She finished her vole and began to wash, enjoying the sunshine with Nightfrost. Even as she pulled the scent of vole from her fur, she still found herself with that strange scent from her dream in her nose, as if it were buried deep in her pelt at this point. Mistyfoot shook out her fur, annoyed.
Maybe I'm just tired. The warm rock that Nightfrost was dozing on looked tempting. She had been busy sniffing for trespassers for a while; maybe that was affecting her. I just need a night or two away from that forest, that's all...
Just as she was about to join Nightfrost on the rock, movement at the front of the camp caught her eye. The sunhigh patrol had returned - Swiftfoot, Snowstep, and Whitewing all filed into camp, the white of their pelts glowing warmly. Mistyfoot kept an eye on them - Swiftfoot was looking around camp, clearly searching for her, and once he'd spotted her, he stalked her way.
Mistyfoot's stomach clenched. What now? When Swiftfoot drew close, she asked, "What's going on?"
"We renewed the markers along the ShadowClan border," Swiftfoot meowed, his voice gruff, "but the ShadowClan border is still hazy in places. I think it's gotten worse since the Gathering."
Mistyfoot frowned, her tail twitching in thought. She heard Nightfrost shift on his boulder, leaning in to listen. Mistyfoot glanced at him, then back at Swiftfoot.
"Are there any signs of trouble?" she queried.
Swiftfoot shook his head. "Not that we could see - but..."
"But what?"
"We scented something," Swiftfoot meowed. "Snowstep picked it up. Cat-scent. A stranger we didn't recognize."
Mistyfoot's ears rang in alarm. Nightfrost wondered, his voice sounding far away, "Maybe a loner wandered into our territory?"
Swiftfoot frowned. "Long way to go for a loner - we followed the scent up the ShadowClan border from the lake before it disappeared."
The tunnel. Mistyfoot got to her paws immediately. "Thanks, Swiftfoot," she meowed. "I'll go and investigate right away."
Swiftfoot's frown deepened. "On your own?" he questioned.
"I'll go with her," Nightfrost decided.
Mistyfoot stiffened. She was about to say that she would be fine and that she wouldn't be long, but Nightfrost had stepped in before she could. There was no simple way of getting out of this without spilling all the reasons why in the middle of camp.
She looked to Nightfrost, who was on his paws, awake and alert. He would never let her go sniffing around a border without backup. So, taking a deep breath, she nodded and said to Swiftfoot, "Tell Tinystar that we've gone out. We'll be back before moonrise"
Swiftfoot nodded, and leaped over Nightfrost to clamber up to the Highledge. Nightfrost hopped down from his boulder and whisked his tail.
"Ready when you are," he meowed.
Mistyfoot nodded, swallowing around a lump in her throat. "Let's hope it turns out to be nothing."
Mistyfoot's fur prickled, a mixture of delight and worry. On one paw, it felt amazing to run through the forest at full pelt with Nightfrost at her side, their pelts brushing. On the other, though, she worried about what they were charging towards - would just the two of them be able to handle whatever they found? Would they make it in time to catch the stranger?
I should have told Tinystar. She had promised him she would, but she had put the task onto Swiftfoot instead. Would Tinystar send a patrol after her? Did he trust her enough to handle this herself?
Sunhigh had passed by the time they reached the ShadowClan border, their paws lent speed by the new hunting trails carved out by ThunderClan's warriors. They halted beside a clump of ferns to catch their breath, far enough away that they wouldn't be suspected if they were seen but close enough that the stream was in sight.
Mistyfoot breathed in through her mouth. The scent of Swiftfoot's patrol had faded in the area, and ShadowClan's border markers were just behind it. When she glanced at Nightfrost, she could tell he hadn't yet scented the stranger. They prowled closer to the border together, noses twitching.
"Anything yet?" Mistyfoot asked quietly, conscious of ShadowClan warriors. They liked to hide and spring from bushes, and they never hesitated to defend their border.
Nightfrost shook his head. "No," he admitted, "but if Snowstep was the one who caught it, it might be nearly gone. You know how sharp his nose is..."
Should have brought him along, Mistyfoot thought, annoyed. Or Cloudtail.
It was too late for that now. "Swiftfoot said it went upstream," she meowed. "Let's head that way."
Nightfrost voiced no complaint. With their noses to the ground, they slowly crept their way along the border, following the curve of the stream until it bent deeper into the pines and the border markers continued on the ground.
"The greenleaf Twolegplace is up ahead," Nightfrost warned.
Mistyfoot lifted her head. Her tail puffed in annoyance - she could see the clearing up ahead through the trees. There wouldn't be Twolegs there while the weather was still chilly, and the state of the border kept it squarely in ShadowClan territory. They would have to curve around towards the Sky Oak.
Towards the tunnel.
Mistyfoot looked to Nightfrost. "Anything?"
Nightfrost shook his head again. "Whoever they are, they're good at hiding their scent."
Mistyfoot grimaced. "Maybe they walked along the border?" she guessed. It was the only way she could think to justify how difficult the stranger's scent was to pick up. "Swiftfoot's patrol might've been upwind while they were marking. They could've been walking right behind the stranger the whole time."
"That would make it hard for anyone to pick up the scent," Nightfrost agreed. "But that means it's here somewhere - and what loner would know to follow a border exactly as it was being marked?"
A very smart one, Mistyfoot thought, troubled. She wasn't sure she liked this theory's picture of the stranger in their territory. Why would a loner or even a rogue care to go through all that effort? Most didn't even know how Clans operated.
They continued, keeping low as they rounded the greenleaf Twolegplace. The undergrowth here was sparse, and the two of them would be very easy to spot for a ShadowClan patrol, which was bound to be around somewhere - though this wasn't the biggest worry on Mistyfoot's mind.
The closer they drew to the Sky Oak, the more she worried about the tunnel, and soon enough, they had passed the massive tree, and the smaller oak was in sight. As they drew closer, Mistyfoot prayed to StarClan that they would find nothing.
They did not answer. "Mistyfoot, I've got something!"
Mistyfoot drew to a halt, feeling her fur stiffen. At almost the same moment Nightfrost had spoken, the scent had crossed her nose, too - and while she still didn't know who it belonged to, she couldn't deny it:
This was the scent she had picked up in her dream last night. The same scent she had followed beneath the oak tree.
The fur along Mistyfoot's spine lifted, and she frowned. No, this couldn't be some simple loner who had wandered into their territory. Whoever they were, they knew exactly what they were doing.
She looked to Nightfrost, who was still sniffing. "Do you know who it is?" she asked. Perhaps he knew?
Nightfrost frowned, closing his eyes. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe? Maybe not?" He lowered his muzzle, and when he opened his eyes, they were a soft, sad blue. "I guess I don't know Clan scents as well as I used to."
Mistyfoot felt a shot of sorrow in her heart. Along the Great Journey, Nightfrost had made many friends within the other Clans - but that had been a whole season ago now. "It might not be a Clan cat," she reminded him gently.
"I hope not," Nightfrost muttered. His tail lashed. "Disregarding the code we made about traveling around the lake like this means they're definitely up to no good."
Mistyfoot didn't disagree. Together, ready for anything, they picked up the scent on the leaf of a nearby bush and began following it. Mistyfoot's heart hammered in her chest as they drew closer and closer to the old oak - once again, she prayed that the tunnel had nothing to do with this, but StarClan once again spit at her paws as they followed Nightfrost around the roots, and there it was - the tunnel, uncovered, with more soft earth piled around its edges.
"What in StarClan's name is this?" Nightfrost wondered, baffled.
Mistyfoot stiffened. She would feel terrible if she let him speculate: "Nightfrost," she began, "listen..."
And he did. Nightfrost listened attentively as Mistyfoot explained how she had stumbled upon this tunnel herself after following the same scent, only to find that it had disappeared on the other side, in ShadowClan territory. She told him about the one she had found by the Moonpool as well.
Nightfrost's whiskers twitched. "You knew about all this?" he breathed, looking hurt. "And you didn't tell me?"
"Tinystar asked me not to," Mistyfoot insisted. She hoped with all her heart that he would understand. "He wanted me to keep an eye out for the stranger, and he asked me to cover up the tunnels if I found more of them."
Nightfrost frowned, considering her words. "I suppose if Father asked it of you... I can't be that upset. He must have a reason."
Mistyfoot sighed in relief, though a ghost of guilt still prickled at her pelt. She gestured to the oak tunnel with her tail and breathed, "I covered this one up days ago, but they must have just uncovered it recently. Maybe even today!"
Eyes brightening, Nightfrost lifted his chin. "That means we might be able to catch them!"
"Nightfrost, wait-!"
But Nightfrost had already dove headfirst into the tunnel, slipping in with ease thanks to his small size. Mistyfoot reared back as his hind paws scattered earth towards her face. By the time she was steady on her legs, Nightfrost was gone.
Panic shot through Mistyfoot, cold as ice. He had no idea what he was going to see down there! "Nightfrost!" she hissed. She could hear his paws scraping against the earth deep in her ear fur. He wasn't stopping.
Mistyfoot took a deep breath and plunged into the tunnel after him. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly, and having done this before, she was easily able to catch up to her Clanmate in the cavern.
Nightfrost was invisible but for the gleam in his eyes: "This is amazing, Misty! You said there's more of these?"
Panting, Mistyfoot answered, "P-Probably!" Bristling, she hissed, "But Night, you can't just throw yourself down a hole you don't know! They might not all be empty!"
The light of the exit tunnel lit his whiskers. "Well... this one was!"
"Yes, but ShadowClan territory is on the other side!" Mistyfoot reminded him with another hiss. "Were you just going to pop up there and say hello?"
Nightfrost paused. "No, but-"
Mistyfoot stiffened. Quickly, she stuffed her tail into Nightfrost's mouth, hushing him. She felt his teeth until he heard it too - something was rustling ahead on the ShadowClan side.
Heart hammering in her ears, the two of them slid close to the ShadowClan exit, pressing themselves against the dirt walls to hide. The angle of the tunnel and the size of the hole made the dogwood sheltering them on this side visible, and a dark shape was there, moving between the leaves.
"... can smell it..." mumbled a voice. "... some... scent."
Mistyfoot glanced at Nightfrost. She took a quick breath - the stranger's scent was here and stronger than it had been before. So strong it made her throat itch and nose tingle. The stranger must have exited on the ShadowClan side very recently, and this patrol must've picked it up just now.
"... is it?" asked another voice. Mistyfoot strained to recognize them. "...Clan? One... pets?"
Mistyfoot dug her claws into the earth. She could barely hear a thing!
"We... go home... Tell Russetstar," meowed another cat, one drawing closer to the dogwood. "She'll want to know about this."
"Wolftooth?" guessed Nightfrost, whispering.
Mistyfoot nodded, recognizing the voice. "I don't think they don't know who it is, either," she hissed back, her voice congested.
Another shape drew close. "I don't know how much longer I can take this, Wolftooth," growled a she-cat's voice. "I need sleep."
"We all need sleep, Redclaw," Wolftooth insisted in a low growl. "But until they're dealt with, no one is going to rest easy. Let's head back."
Mistyfoot's pelt prickled. 'They?' she thought. Who's 'they?' She looked at Nightfrost, who seemed just as confused. Are they talking about the trespasser?
The patrol was drawing away, taking their voices with them: "... can't believe... got Orre... that..."
And then they were gone. Silence.
Mistyfoot bristled. Beside her, Nightfrost was just as stiff, his eyes wide. Mistyfoot's mouth felt dry. She hadn't heard the full statement, but she couldn't help but piece things together in her mind with how evasive the ShadowClan cats, especially Stoneheart, had been about Orre's death. Russetstar had claimed natural causes at the Gathering, but...
... had someone killed him?
"I'm going to tell Tinystar," Mistyfoot meowed.
Her voice broke a silence that had reigned between her and Nightfrost until this moment, when they were just a few fox-lengths from the thorn tunnel. They had exited the tunnel under the oak together, covering it up as best as they could, their mouths shut tight just in case the ShadowClan patrol or the stranger heard them. They had walked back to camp as the sun set, paws heavy, unsure how to think or speak of what they had just heard.
"I... I won't tell anyone else," Nightfrost promised. He looked up at her, his gaze filled with worry. "Do you think Stoneheart is okay?"
Mistyfoot's tail rattled. "He is," she said, trying to be certain. "We only heard parts of what they were talking about. We can't assume anything until we know the full story."
She hoped her words helped Nightfrost more than they did her. As they headed into camp, her mind couldn't help but piece things together - the evasive behavior, Orre's death, Stoneheart's defensiveness, ShadowClan's messy border markings, all of it was balling up in her head like moss, tumbling about and dragging everything else in with it.
But where does the trespasser fit into it all?
"I'll get us something to eat," Nightfrost commented.
Mistyfoot nodded. Thankfully, no one had noticed how perturbed her expression must have been - the two of them made it to the base of the Highledge before they parted - Nightfrost headed to the fresh-kill pile while Mistyfoot began to climb up the boulders to Tinystar's den.
The stone was cold under her paws, the sun's warmth having faded hours ago. Mistyfoot wished she'd been able to enjoy it with Nightfrost. Instead, she scraped her claws against the rock to announce her presence, and Tinystar called her in almost immediately.
Mistyfoot stepped into the shadows, her pelt prickling with the crushing chill of the cave. Tinystar looked to have just finished his evening meal and was on to a thorough grooming, drawing a paw over his ear as she approached.
"Swiftfoot reported that a strange scent was found on our territory and that you went to investigate," he meowed, gesturing with his tail. "What did you find?"
Mistyfoot couldn't bring herself to sit. "Well..."
She explained it all - how she and Nightfrost had struggled to find the stranger's scent at first, but picked it up by the Sky Oak and how it led to the tunnel. When she admitted to Tinystar that she'd had to reveal their secret to Nightfrost, the small black tom grimaced.
"It's okay," he assured, whiskers twitching in the half-light. "If I can't trust my son or my deputy, who can I trust?"
Mistyfoot went on, heartened by that: "The stranger had uncovered and dug out the tunnel again," she said, "and while we didn't find them when we went inside, I did scent that they had been there more recently." She thanked StarClan that she hadn't sneezed.
"Any idea on who this stranger is?" Tinystar wondered.
Mistyfoot shook her head. "Nightfrost didn't know, either."
Tinystar narrowed his eyes just a touch to icy slivers in the dark. "Whoever they are, they must have known to use the borders to muddle their scent. Clever. Continue."
"That's what we guessed," Mistyfoot admitted. "Before we could decide how to proceed, though, a ShadowClan patrol passed by. They picked up the stranger's scent, but they didn't find the tunnel - the dogwood must hide it well on the other side."
Tinystar frowned. "So what did you do?"
"We listened." Mistyfoot took a deep breath. "Tinystar, it wasn't very clear, but it seems like there's something - or someone - in ShadowClan's territory. I don't know if it's the stranger or not, but I..." She hesitated. Should she speculate? "From what we heard, it sounds like whatever or whoever it is, they killed Orre."
Tinystar shifted in his nest. "Russetstar reported that Orre died of natural causes," he meowed carefully. "Are you saying she was lying?"
Mistyfoot felt like she was standing in the middle of a leafbare blizzard, alone and exposed. "I don't know. That's just what we could make out from what the patrol said." She held her leader's icy gaze. "Tinystar, I think ShadowClan is in trouble."
For a long moment, Tinystar was silent. His tail curled in and out in thought. Finally, he said, "Then that is ShadowClan's problem to deal with."
Mistyfoot's ears pricked in surprise. "W-What?!"
Tinystar stood up in his nest, barely visible in the shadows. "There is nothing to be gained from us sticking our noses into ShadowClan's business," he insisted. "If Russetstar wanted our help, she would ask for it."
"No, she wouldn't!" Mistyfoot shot back. "You know that as well as I do!" Her heart hammered in her chest, and she couldn't help but stare at Tinystar as if he were a different cat entirely. Was he going to push this potential danger aside?
"Your heart is in the right place," Tinystar meowed softly, "and I know that Stoneheart's fate worries you - but I cannot put ThunderClan lives at risk by worrying about other Clans. Not anymore. We've lost too much."
"But-!"
"But nothing!" Tinystar snarled suddenly. He was on all fours, his spine bent, his teeth bared. "I have buried too many Clanmates, Mistyfoot! Too many! ThunderClan is done sticking its nose where it doesn't belong." His tail lashed in the darkness. "That is final."
Mistyfoot swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest. Slowly, Tinystar softened, his spine unbending. Tinystar's expression was shattered, heartbroken, and his voice was heavy: "If you ever wish to stand where I stand, Mistyfoot, and lead ThunderClan yourself, you need to learn from my mistakes. Not repeat them."
He spoke simply: "Go," he said. "Do as you were told. But leave ShadowClan out of it."
Mistyfoot's words died in her throat, and her paws dragged against the stone as she left the den. The moon had risen as she stepped onto the Highledge, a waning disk of white against a blanket of cloudy, starry darkness. Mistyfoot took in a shaky, chilly breath, Tinystar's words raking like claws in her mind.
She looked down at her Clanmates, who were preparing to sleep. Cloudtail was positioning herself to keep watch on the fallen tree. Across the clearing, Cinderpelt touched her nose to Spiderfang, murmuring something to her daughter before she clambered up the tumble of boulders to monitor the secret way into camp. The dark shapes of cats Mistyfoot loved dearly were slinking into their dens, merging with the darkness as they settled in their nests.
All but one.
Nightfrost sat below the Highledge, barely visible but for the gleam of his eyes in the moonlight. He stared up at her with some fresh-kill at his paws, his imploring gaze making Mistyfoot's whiskers tremble. He wanted to know what had happened, and she didn't know what to tell him.
She made her way down to the ground with a lump in her throat like a stone. When her paws hit the earth, Nightfrost was there beside her.
"What happened?" he asked.
Mistyfoot choked on the stone, struggling to swallow around it as it seemed to multiply and stuff her jaws with its kin. She watched Nightfrost's expression turn from curiosity to concern, and when she didn't respond, he took a step back, looking down at his paws.
"Alright," was all he said. "Make sure you get some sleep. You look exhausted."
Mistyfoot watched him walk away, her stomach tied in knots and her jaws filled with rocks. Hopelessness prickled at her skin. How was she supposed to tell Nightfrost about his father's sudden change in behavior? He would be heartbroken. She couldn't do that to him.
Staring down at the mouse that Nightfrost had brought for them to share, Mistyfoot decided she just wasn't hungry. She took her time putting it back on the fresh-kill pile, and by the time she returned to the warrior's den, Nightfrost was curled tight in his nest, his back turned to her. She stepped into the den and curled up in her own nest, patting down the moss and bracken with her paws. She would apologize tomorrow, but as she rested her head on her paws, her mind buzzed.
It was so unlike Tinystar, and the comparison came unbidden: The last cat she had seen who had acted so irrationally, so unlike themselves, was Tigerstar, ThunderClan's leader when Mistyfoot was a kit. He had grown so paranoid and fearful towards the end of his life that he had even denounced StarClan, claiming that they wanted to destroy ThunderClan.
The thought was horrifying, almost impossible to think - was Tinystar walking down that same path? And what would she do if he was?