Chapter 15
Mistyfoot charged through the forest, her paws flying across the trail. Mousefur and Ferncloud followed without question, driven by the horrible silence and the scent of blood in their noses. Mistyfoot's heart pounded in her chest as she considered every possibility, trying to predict what they might find once they crossed the border. She hoped and prayed to StarClan that the screech hadn't belonged to any cat she knew.
They quickly put the ShadowClan border behind them and pushed through the thick undergrowth surrounding the greenleaf Twolegplace, finally stopping inside the unnatural clearing to catch their breath. The green plane that stretched before them was empty but for the Twoleg trash cans that studded the ground at regular intervals - and, at the base of the nearest lay a small, dark heap, their blood sprayed against the hard material, still fresh and dripping.
"Oh, no!" Ferncloud breathed. Her eyes went round, the whites showing. "That's Willowpaw!"
A chill took Mistyfoot's pelt. Willowpaw!Her heart beat faster. The ShadowClan apprentice was barely older than Larchpaw - they had gotten close along the Great Journey, along with Rushpaw, Willowpaw's littermate. Their mother, Finchsong, was a close friend of Ferncloud's. Mistyfoot swallowed.
The three she-cats rushed over to Willowpaw. The small tom lay prone on his side in a pool of his own blood. Mistyfoot gagged at the intense smell, and Ferncloud whimpered at the sight. Mousefur turned away, scanning the area.
"Is he alive?" Mousefur asked, her ears flicking to and fro.
Mistyfoot forced herself to stare at Willowpaw. The dark gray tom was still, his spine pressed against the trash can as if he'd been tossed at it. One of his limbs looked broken or at least out of place, and he was covered in more fresh scratches than Mistyfoot could count. She couldn't fathom how he might be alive after losing so much blood, but there was just the faintest stirring of his whiskers - somehow, he was alive. Stunned, but alive.
"He's breathing!" Mistyfoot called back, hope catching in her voice.
"Who did this to him?" Ferncloud wondered desperately, her eyes big and watery. "A fox, maybe?" She gently touched a paw to a batch of scratches. She hissed, "Mistyfoot, these look like cat's claws!"
Mistyfoot couldn't deny that. The marks matched Ferncloud's paw, though off by just a hair. She saw her friend's spotted legs tremble, and, her voice wavering, Ferncloud asked, breathless, "What do we do?"
"Clean him up and stop the bleeding," Mistyfoot ordered swiftly, trying to keep her head above water. Ferncloud immediately set to work, lapping gently at Willowpaw's pelt with her tongue. Mistyfoot lifted her muzzle and glanced at Mousefur, flicking her tail to beckon the smaller she-cat over.
"Who do you think did this?" she asked quietly.
Mousefur peered at Willowpaw's body. She reached out and gently turned over one of the apprentice's paws, bending down to sniff the bloodied pads. Mistyfoot swallowed around the lump in her throat. Willowpaw still had his claws out - the young cat had put up a fight.
"Not a Clan cat, that's for sure," Mousefur answered, "and there's no fur caught in his claws. There is a scent, though I don't recognize it."
Mistyfoot closed her eyes and leaned closer, sniffing. Other than blood and ShadowClan, there was another scent - part of Mistyfoot had expected the stranger she had been chasing around ThunderClan territory, but it wasn't. There were two scents, for one, and for another...
"I know those scents," she murmured, lifting her muzzle. She met Mousefur's eye. "When we were exploring the territory and trying to find camps, we ran into a pair of kittypets. They attacked us for even getting near their nest. It's been a while, but that's them." She could confidently say: "I'm sure of it."
Mousefur tipped her head, confused. "Kittypets did this?"
Mistyfoot sat back onto her haunches. The more she thought about it, the more certain she became - those two kittypets had to be the problem ShadowClan was facing. One glance at Willowpaw all but confirmed it. If they were willing to do this much to a cat as young as him, Mistyfoot did not doubt that they were behind Orre's death, too, and the multiple new wounds on the ShadowClan warriors.
But why? Mistyfoot wondered, her head spinning back to that first encounter. Those two kittypets had fought like they were willing to kill, but they hadn't pursued once they were driven off. I thought we had sent them a message - Stoneheart nearly clawed one of their eyes out! Didn't they learn their lesson?
She swallowed again, the smell of Willowpaw's blood growing overwhelming. "We need to get him someplace safe," she meowed. Ferncloud was trying to stop the bleeding, but she wasn't a medicine cat, and she didn't have anything to work with here. Mistyfoot looked to Mousefur. "You grab one end, I'll take the other - we'll drag him into the woods and-"
"You will do no such thing!"
Mistyfoot felt the claws shortly after - they pressed into her pelt, breaking the skin as she was thrust against the hard earth. She heard Mousefur grunt a tail-length away and then a strong, defensive hiss from Ferncloud over by the trash can.
Mistyfoot struggled against the bulky black-and-white body pressed against her, looking for purchase with her paws as the scent of ShadowClan choked her - eventually, her hind legs found her attacker's belly, and she pushed with all her might, sending them flying.
She got to her paws, bristling. She was face-to-face with Skipnose, the young black-and-white cat panting a tail-length away. Off to the side, Mousefur was wrestling with Pinewhisker, while Ferncloud was squaring up to Pansytail, the tortoiseshell ShadowClan warrior lashing her tail with a fierce expression. Focusing back on her opponent, Mistyfoot crouched, prepared to fend off another attack from a furious Skipnose.
Pansytail spoke up, suddenly: "Everyone, stop!"
Skipnose unbent his spine immediately. Ferncloud relaxed, exhaling with relief. Mousefur had Pinewhisker pinned, the small brown tabby tom wiggling beneath her as he flailed desperately.
Mousefur dodged a paw swipe and growled, "Stop that, already - we didn't do this!"
"She's right, Pinewhisker," Pansytail urged quickly. "Stop. We don't have time for this."
Pinewhisker slowly came to a stop, and it was only when he sheathed his claws that Mousefur let him go. The brown tabby, bristling, immediately got to his paws and lunged for Willowpaw, his apprentice, nearly pushing Ferncloud out of the way to see him.
"He's alive!" Pinewhisker breathed raggedly. He pressed his muzzle against Willowpaw's. "Oh, thank StarClan!"
Mistyfoot felt a pang in her heart. She knew what it was like to be so frantic over an injured apprentice - Willowpaw had a chance that Shrewpaw didn't, though, and she wanted more than anything for their fates to differ.
"The kittypets did this, didn't they?" Mistyfoot wondered, looking at Pansytail. She didn't know who was leading this patrol, but Russetstar's mate was the senior warrior from ShadowClan here. "What were they called again?"
"Jacques and Susan," Pansytail recited bitterly, as if their names were toxic. "And yes. They did this."
"We didn't see anything," Mousefur explained. "Just heard him screech. Their scent trail was well hidden."
Skipnose muttered, "Him hollering was probably what scared them away. They would've finished him off otherwise."
"Silence, Skipnose," Pansytail growled, grimacing.
Mistyfoot peered at the ShadowClan cats. "Let us help you take him back to camp."
Pansytail's frown grew deeper, but Mistyfoot hadn't missed the way that her eyes were darting around - she was still on the lookout for the kittypets. Just the three of them taking Willowpaw home would put them in a vulnerable spot if they attacked. With Mistyfoot, Mousefur, and Ferncloud helping them, striking a group that large would be foolish.
The ShadowClan warrior seemed to understand that. Pansytail gave the faintest of nods. "When we reach camp, you're to leave immediately," she decided.
"No," Mistyfoot declared. She raised her chin. "I'm going to talk to Russetstar. Something has to be done about this." Knowing the full scope of the problem might get Tinystar to listen, though Mistyfoot was certain Russetstar wouldn't allow an outsider to see how vulnerable ShadowClan truly was.
Pansytail curled her lip, and Skipnose bristled. Pinewhisker didn't share his Clanmate's obstinance; he was too busy trying to drape Willowpaw across his back with Ferncloud's help, the young apprentice's blood dripping down his back and legs.
Skipnose huffed, looking offended. "This is none of your business, ThunderClan."
"Skipnose, please," Pansytail hissed. Turning back to Mistyfoot, she mewed curtly, "I'm not sure what you expect from her, but you can try."
Mousefur gave Skipnose a sharp, scrutinizing look. The tom stubbornly stalked past her, sidling up to Pinewhisker to help take some of Willowpaw's weight off of his Clanmate. He dipped his patchy muzzle to Pansytail, and, their group ready, they set off, heading across the clearing and toward the trees, with Pansytail leading the way and Mistyfoot, Mousefur, and Ferncloud surrounding Willowpaw and his carriers.
They moved carefully through the woods. The ground here was softened by shed pine needles and flatter than ThunderClan's territory, made almost deafeningly quiet by the thick pine trees that muffled the world with their size. Were the air not permeated with the stench of Willowpaw's blood, the scents would be musty and sharp, teasing the nose to sneeze and break the silence.
Mistyfoot hadn't been here since their first quick jaunt around the lake. She recalled that the land closest to the water, over by RiverClan territory, was swampy, more like ShadowClan's old territory used to be. The ground was drier here, though, with only a hint of moisture trapped beneath the thick layer of pine needles.
She tried to recall where ShadowClan's camp was - she knew it was someplace well-hidden, barely visible even when one looked right at it. Perhaps that was why it was so hard to picture since only Stoneheart had gotten a good look at it.
She had plenty of time to think about it, though. Pansytail was moving along very slowly, slower than Mistyfoot had realized. At first, she thought it had been for Willowpaw's sake, but since there was little to make them stumble here, Mistyfoot soon came to another conclusion - ShadowClan wasn't confident in their own territory anymore.
A more careful look at Pansytail confirmed it. The tortoiseshell she-cat was practically tip-toeing, her ears swiveling in every direction to catch any stray noise. Every few paces, she would stop to scent the air. A bird chirping far off made her pause, her tail stiff and ready to signal. Mistyfoot glanced at Mousefur, who had also been watching Pansytail, finding her Clanmate's confused expression grimly vindicating.
This wasn't a hunter, confident in her territory - this was prey.
Their journey was long, made longer by Willowpaw's injuries. As the sun began to trail across the sky, they headed down towards the lake and then began to follow the very edge of the woods, where solid ground gave way to a boggy shore. Glancing behind her, Mistyfoot could see the forest and the Twoleg halfbridge that jutted out into the lake just around the bend of the water - ThunderClan felt so far away right now, and she guessed that they wouldn't be back before nightfall.
They're probably so worried, she thought, troubled. She imagined Nightfrost's face when she and her patrol didn't return and felt a pang of sorrow in her gut. Was he already looking for her? What would he think when her scent trail disappeared over the ShadowClan border?
While she was worrying, Mousefur sidled up to Pansytail's shoulder and asked, "So how did two kittypets manage to strike fear into the hearts of ShadowClan?"
Pansytail growled low in her throat and Mistyfoot heard Skipnose hiss. But it seemed that Mousefur hadn't said anything that wasn't true - it was Pinewhisker who muttered, "They know our every move."
Mistyfoot, confused, tilted her head. "How can that be?" ShadowClan were the most secretive of all the Clans - there were stories of them turning even a simple question like what one of them had for breakfast into a puzzle.
"And why would they even care?"Ferncloud added.
"It's not like we haven't asked!" Pansytail shot back, her ears flat. Her eyes flashed angrily. "They want to drive us out, and it seems like they're enjoying themselves while they do it."
"They take our prey from right in front of us," Skipnose growled. "And they always strike when one of us is alone, or they're evenly matched." He spat, "Cowards!"
Mistyfoot glanced at the ShadowClan cats, noting that she could see the outlines of their ribs rippling faintly beneath their pelts. They weren't starving, but the kittypets were ensuring ShadowClan couldn't enjoy the full bounty of their new home.
"The way they fight reminds me of BloodClan," Pansytail added, shuddering along her spine. "They don't have a code." She glanced back at Willowpaw. "They don't care how much they hurt someone."
Mousefur lashed her tail. "And Russetstar is letting this just go on? It's two whole kittypets! You're ShadowClan!"
Pansytail stopped short, arching her back. The patrol halted around her as she glared at Mousefur and hissed, "You think we don't know that?"
"We can't even get close to their nest without them running for their Twoleg," snapped Skipnose, "and he's just as bad as them! He threw things at us! When Orre and Blackfoot led a patrol to negotiate with the kittypets, their Twoleg rushed out and hit Orre so hard with something that... That..." Skipnose swallowed his words, his eyes glistening with sorrow.
Mistyfoot swallowed, horrified. That's how Orre really died? Great StarClan!
Pinewhisker adjusted Willowpaw's weight on his shoulders. "And we never know where they're going to come from. They pop up out of nowhere, and when they flee, it's like they disappear into thin air."
Mistyfoot's pelt prickled. Out of nowhere? Disappearing? How can that be? Her tail trembled. A horrible thought occurred to her: Do they know about the tunnels? Are there more of them on ShadowClan territory?
"This hasn't been easy to deal with," Pansytail hissed, baring her teeth. "But we can handle it."
"Can you?" Mousefur questioned. "Does Russetstar have any sort of plan?"
Pansytail scoffed, tossing her head. "Come on," she snapped, "we're almost there."
And they were - Pansytail led them upslope between the pines, weaving between cedars and the occasional stunted oak or beech. The land here was low and easy, and Mistyfoot thought it looked familiar - this area had more undergrowth than most of ShadowClan territory, with briars and brambles tangling along the ground and dark-leafed ivy growing up the trunks of the trees.
Slowly, it came into view - the huge cedar with its peeling, graying bark and its impossibly large, fan-like branches. In a hollow beneath the boughs, Mistyfoot recalled, was ShadowClan's camp.
In the moons since coming to the lake, they had built up a wall of briars and ivy to keep out nosy intruders, and the camp wall was almost indistinguishable from the world around it. Pansytail led the way inside, disappearing into a nearly invisible gap in the tangled barrier. Mistyfoot followed, her heart beating quickly - seeing another Clan's camp was always a tense situation, and ShadowClan kept their camp so hidden and private for a reason.
It was cool and dark beneath the boughs of the cedar, and when Mistyfoot emerged, she had to squint to take in ShadowClan's home as the sun barely penetrated between the huge, fan-like branches. It was bigger than she had realized, with a clearing carpeted in soft pine needles and lined with dens that seemed to be made from trees that had fallen long ago and grown hollow and gray. Mistyfoot could only guess at which den was which, but at the back of the camp, a cave hidden deep beneath the roots of the protective cedar was no doubt the leader's den.
Confirmation of that came as Russetstar slid out from the darkness, her shoulders sharp in the shadows and her eyes even sharper as she saw the ThunderClan cats in her camp. By now, the others had made their way through the entrance, and the scents of ThunderClan and blood filled the hollow. Every cat turned their heads, and to Mistyfoot it seemed as if every warrior had unsheathed their claws, too. Her pelt prickled ominously. She searched for Stoneheart, but couldn't find him.
Pansytail met Russetstar in the center of the clearing, the two discreetly touching noses. Pinewhisker and Skipnose slid off to the side, heading for one of the hollow logs with Willowpaw bobbing between them - Littlecloud emerged quickly, bristling, and from the crowd of ShadowClan cats came Cedarheart and Finchsong, tails bushing as they rushed over to see to their son.
"Is that Willowpaw?" breathed Rowanclaw from off to the side. The dark ginger tom stepped forward, eyes wide as he held back Rushpaw with one leg. He looked to Mistyfoot and asked, "What happened?"
"ThunderClan," Russetstar mused before Mistyfoot could answer. As Blackfoot came to her side, her gaze slid to Mistyfoot, deep green to dark blue. "What is the meaning of this?"
Ferncloud and Mousefur kept close, their bodies stiff and ready to flee. Mistyfoot took a deep, steadying breath. Time to be deputy, she thought.
"We heard Willowpaw scream in the forest while out hunting and went to investigate," she said, raising her voice. She was aware of every ShadowClan cat glaring at her. One wrong move, and she'd be lining for their nests. "We found him in the greenleaf Twolegplace, wounded. His attackers had fled."
"They know," Pansytail murmured into Russetstar's ear. Russetstar curled her lip in response, looking disgusted.
Every warrior had something to say about that revelation - their grumbles filled the hollow, trapped by the boughs of the cedar. Blackfoot glared at Pansytail and hissed, "You told them?"
"We figured it out ourselves," Mousefur grunted, glowering at Blackfoot, "thank you very much!"
"For the most part!" Ferncloud added swiftly.
Mistyfoot raised her tail to speak. "Pansytail did tell us, but only because we asked, and she felt she had to," she meowed, hoping that absolved the ShadowClan she-cat. Mistyfoot swallowed. This was her chance. She stared squarely at Russetstar and declared, "ShadowClan is in trouble. Let us help you, Russetstar."
The protest was immediate and vicious: "We don't need ThunderClan's help!" hissed Talonstripe.
Tallpoppy bristled from the back: "You'd tell us how to make dirt if we let you!"
"Don't forget about what happened to WindClan," growled Redclaw. Her eyes were narrowed to slits. "We still don't know if they were behind it!"
"We're ShadowClan," added Blackfoot. He stood up straight and tall, declaring, "We need no Clan's help!"
"Tell that to the bones I see sticking out from your pelt," Mousefur shot back, baring her teeth.
Blackfoot growled deep in his throat, taking a step forward. Mistyfoot spotted the gleam of claws, and her tail bristled anxiously.
"Enough," Russetstar meowed tersely. The protests of her Clan died instantly. Mistyfoot felt a spark of admiration for the strong she-cat, who could command her Clanmates without moving a whisker. Still staring deep into Mistyfoot, Russetstar offered, "Make your case, ThunderClan."
Mistyfoot took another deep breath. "This is no way for a Clan to live. You think you can handle this on your own, but Orre is dead, your Clan is being injured on the daily, and Willowpaw is badly hurt. Eventually, there won't be anyone left to fight."
Tallpoppy hissed, "You don't get to talk about Orre!"
"Tallpoppy, enough," Russetstar said patiently. She gestured for Mistyfoot to continue.
"You're being hunted in your own territory," Mistyfoot pressed on. She took a step towards Russetstar, aware that she was pushing her luck with every word. "Please. I'm sure that together, we can devise a solution before you lose more cats - before they see ThunderClan as fair game, too."
"Tinystar is behind you on this?" Russetstar wondered quietly.
Mistyfoot swallowed her words. She looked around the camp again and wondered where Stoneheart was - surely her brother was here right now? Wouldn't he defend her?
Russetstar sighed. "I see," she murmured. Louder, she meowed, "I appreciate your concern - but this is not ThunderClan's problem." Her gaze hardened. "ShadowClan handles ShadowClan affairs."
Mistyfoot burst, "But you can't! You aren't! A pair of kittypets are getting the better of you, and you're letting it happen!" Her fur bristled with frustration.
Blackfoot snarled, his muscles tensed to spring. Russetstar slapped her tail in front of her deputy, her eyes narrowing. "Watch your words, Mistyfoot," she meowed carefully. "You may have earned great respect for bringing us here, but what you've gained, you can lose in an instant."
"The same goes for you," Mistyfoot returned sharply. Her heart beat swiftly in her chest as she raised her chin. "You told Tinystar that he needed to appoint a deputy so that he looked like a real Clan leader - well, he did, and here you are now, letting your Clanmates suffer because ShadowClan is proud enough to give all the advice they want, but they refuse to take it."
Mistyfoot narrowed her eyes. Russetstar's gaze was intense, daring her to speak on: "Talk to Tinystar," Mistyfoot insisted, willing with all her might for Russetstar to listen. "If you ask, he will help - but that means admitting you're a bad leader, too."
"You're out of line, ThunderClan!" Blackfoot snapped.
"Be hunted in your own territory, then!" Mistyfoot shot back, glaring at Blackfoot. Her paws were trembling. "Just remember who let that happen!"
"It's time for you to leave," Russetstar decided, her voice dripping with anger.
"Agreed," Mousefur grunted. "This was like talking to a stone."
Mistyfoot swallowed, cursing herself inside. Had she really blown up her opportunity to help so swiftly? Some deputy I am! She glanced around at the gathered ShadowClan cats, feeling the anger and animosity in their gazes as they glared at her - all but Rowanclaw, who could only stare at his own paws.
"Let's go," Ferncloud whispered. She was shivering. "I don't like this."
"Neither do they," Mistyfoot mumbled back. "They're just too stubborn to see it."
Russetstar offered no escort, perhaps because she hadn't the cats to spare or perhaps because ShadowClan warriors would be watching them the whole way home from the darkness. Either way, Mistyfoot gathered up Mousefur and Ferncloud with her tail and led them out of the hollow, feeling the cold eyes of ShadowClan on her with every step.
Tinystar was waiting for them when they returned, sitting on the root of an alder tree just outside the thorn tunnel. The stars of Silverpelt were dancing above, surrounding a waning moon, and the three she-cats were dragging their paws at this point, exhausted.
"Go inside," he told them, flicking his tail at Mousefur and Ferncloud, "rest. Mistyfoot, stay here."
Mistyfoot obeyed, watching her friends slip into the thorn tunnel and disappear into camp. No doubt they would be bombarded with questions after being gone for the whole day - perhaps that was why Tinystar had chosen to wait out here for them.
She glanced at Tinystar. He looked serene in the fading moonlight, expressionless and considering, but Mistyfoot could sense his temper boiling beneath his pelt. The wrong words would bring it out, and Mistyfoot wasn't sure what the right words were anymore. All she wanted was to curl up in her nest and sleep, but a deputy could never just do that.
"When you didn't return, we tracked your scent to the ShadowClan border," Tinystar meowed quietly. His pale eyes rested on Mistyfoot as he meowed on, "Several warriors wanted to take a party across the border to investigate, but I had half an idea of what you might've been doing, so I ordered them to wait."
He sighed, gesturing with his tail for her to come close. "What happened?"
Mistyfoot sat down beside the root, curling her tail around her paws. Tinystar was quiet and contemplative as she told him about finding Willowpaw, and taking him back to ShadowClan to be taken care of. He said nothing as she talked about the two kittypets harassing ShadowClan, and he let her get through her attempt to convince Russetstar to ask for help without complaint.
"They can't handle this on their own, Tinystar," Mistyfoot finished, hoping he understood this time. She looked up at him, imploring him to listen. "Russetstar is letting her pride cloud her judgment. We have to help them."
Tinystar blinked. "I don't disagree," he mused, his tone mild, "but my answer is still the same. Unless Russetstar asks for help herself, ThunderClan will not get involved."
The fur between Mistyfoot's shoulders bristled. "Cats are dying, Tinystar!" Fury boiled inside her belly, and she sank her claws into the earth. "You're just going to let this happen? This isn't you at all!" She glared at her leader, disbelief turning her pelt hot. "The Tinystar I know wouldn't hesitate - he'd put together a patrol and come to Russetstar with a plan to save her Clan, not sit here and say there's nothing to be done!"
Tinystar narrowed his eyes. He sighed between his teeth and muttered, "That Tinystar is several lives ago, now, Mistyfoot." He blinked at her. "Following your heart has consequences, and what you think is right doesn't always end up that way." His eyes softened. "When you're a leader, you'll understand."
Mistyfoot stared at Tinystar. She hissed, "Fear won't stop me like it's stopped you."
Carefully, Tinystar meowed, "You would disobey me?"
"If it spared warriors a needless death, yes," Mistyfoot said firmly. Her heart thundered in her ears as she glared down at Tinystar. "Always. Every time. It's what you taught me to do - you might've forgotten it, you might've lost faith in yourself, but I haven't. I won't."
"And when you must bury the consequences of your actions?" Tinystar wondered softly. "When you have to live with the knowledge that your choices hurt others, your friends and your kin, even when all you wanted was to help?"
Mistyfoot swallowed. "I don't know, but isn't that something everyone has to deal with, leader or not?" she dared to say. "I used to be terrified over every decision I made. For the longest time, I thought I was the reason Mosspaw died, or Shrewpaw, or... Or Stormfur, even."
Crickets began to sing in the night. She sighed. Tinystar didn't know the truth about Stormfur. "But I'm not. Or maybe I am? Agonizing over it makes me miserable. It keeps me from pressing forward, from learning what to do better next time." She stared at Tinystar again, desperate for him to understand. "I can't live like that anymore. I'm trying not to. Tinystar..." She hesitated but rested her tail across his shoulders. "You can't live like that, either."
Mistyfoot blinked. "We believe in you. All of us. You brought us so far, through so much. We need you, and we need you to be you - the cat who did anything and everything to help others. The cat who gave up his life for ThunderClan. The cat who saw past where someone comes from or who their family is. ThunderClan - all the Clans - wouldn't be here now without that part of you.
"Things have changed since we crossed the mountains, for sure," she finished, her heart thudding in her ears. She was whispering now, emotion choking the strength out of her words: "But never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that part of you would die with the old forest."
She waited for him to growl, or snap, or even launch himself at her, claws unsheathed. But he didn't. He stared up at her for a long moment while her words faded into silence, and then he lifted his muzzle to the stars.
He chuckled. So quietly that Mistyfoot barely heard it.
"You've changed so much in the seasons I have known you, Mistyfoot," he breathed. His voice was soft, his eyes tinged with sorrow. "For the better, I hope." He flicked his tail. "Go and get some sleep. You've had a long day."
"What about ShadowClan?" Mistyfoot pressed. Had she finally, finally gotten through to him? "Are you going to help them?"
"I never said I wouldn't," he reminded her gently. Tinystar blinked evenly. "We shall see. Russetstar knows that we are willing. It's up to her to remember herself - but if you spoke to her as you spoke to me just now, it won't be long." He smiled at her. "Unfortunately, we must wait."
Mistyfoot frowned, disappointment flashing in her pelt. "I get that. I do. But what the both of you need to realize is that while you're worried about us dying, waiting around for the right moment to make the right choice, we're dying anyway." She swallowed around a lump in her throat. "And we're dying feeling like you've given up on us."
Taking a deep breath, she murmured, "I couldn't live with myself, knowing that." She met Tinystar's eyes and saw the stars twinkling in those icy depths. "The Tinystar I know, the one that I've looked up to since I was a kit, the one who saw me as more than my mother... I know he would feel the same."