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Chapter Text

ThunderClan + ShadowClan:

Leader: Spiderstar- a scrawny black tom with amber eyes.

Deputy: Beetooth- a pale gray mackerel tabby tom with under-bite and amber eyes.

Medicine Cat: Mintfern- a black and white spotted she-cat and bright green eyes.

Warriors:

Dovefrost- a fluffy white she-cat with blue eyes.

Flintpoppy- a tortoiseshell she-cat with amber eyes.

Brackenpelt- a brown she-cat with green eyes.

Birchfoot- a brown tom with white paws and a white spot on his chest and green eyes.
Apprentice: Bumblepaw

Plumpetal- a brown ticked tabby she-cat with green eyes.

Smokescar- a black tom with short tail and amber eyes.
Apprentice: Ratpaw

Fogfur- a gray mackerel tabby she-cat with green eyes.

Nutstripe- a light ginger classic tabby tom and amber eyes.

Adderpelt- a black tom with white belly and paws and soft green eyes. Born without his back left leg.

Weaselface-a brown she-cat with thick scars across the throat and mouth. Has an underbite and dark green eyes.

Sweetshine- a long-furred calico she-cat with amber eyes.

Apprentices:

Bumblepaw- a dark gray classic tabby she-cat with darker stripes and amber eyes.

Ratpaw- a scrawny black tom with amber eyes.

Queens:

Squirrelwhisker- a lithe ginger she-cat with greenish-yellow eyes.

Elders:

Pinethroat- a blind brown she-cat with a white spot on throat.

Mossytooth- an ancient gray and white tom with green eyes.

Dew- a blue she-cat with flat face and bright yellow eyes.

RiverClan:

Leader: Briarstar- a brown and white tabby she-cat with green eyes.

Deputy: Unknown

Medicine Cat: Webflower- an ancient gray she-cat with a bobbed tail and yellow eyes.

WindClan:

Leader: Rainstar- a dark gray tabby tom with yellow eyes.

Deputy: Unknown

Medicine Cat: Unknown

Chapter Text

The air was chilly and wet against the tom's whiskers as he silently slipped into the camp. The ruins of what had once been a proud Clan was left unguarded most nights- a duty given to apprentices and young warriors alike as punishment. All that slept amongst the bramble thickets were elders and disgraced queens.

Case in point; the heavyset blue molly sitting in the open air. Her face was flat, giving her a severe air, with sickly yellow eyes that seemed to fixate on him as he approached. She was different from the others- she had refused her full Clan name, and for that she was left to suffer, and part of that suffering was having the tom as her mate. A purebred cat of Siamese origin- ugly by Clan standards.

"Dew," he whispered. Her ear flicked dismissively as he approached, head low. "Nutella said she'd take them in. She's got a nice little cottage and a belly full of milk."

Dew scowled. "Too close to this place. Any patrol could-"

"We don't have the time to go for miles. Nutella knows the risks; she'll keep them safe," he said impatiently. "Are you in or not?"

She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. He waited. "Fine. Follow me, Mudcloud."

Dew awkwardly shoved a low-hanging bit of plants aside and dipped into the nursery, Mudcloud close behind. The floor was covered in forgotten and musty nests, with dried moss haphazardly pushed around. Dew's nest was off to the side, and slightly more upkept. In it lay three newborn kittens.

Mudcloud paused, studying them. Two of them had their mother's looks, though one had his muzzle, while the third had his build and brown fur, but none of the points to it. He thought they all looked fairly sturdy, as far as kittens go, and would probably grow up to be half-decent warriors.

He thought he should love them.

He knew he should, as a matter of fact.

But Mudcloud looked down at the tiny bodies of his kin and felt nothing but frustration. They're gonna get in the way of everything! All squeaky and smelly. Their fur looks like mold.

Dew seemed to have guessed what he was thinking, judging by the sneer on her muzzle. "Grab one and get moving, big man. It's gonna be a long night."

Mudcloud swallowed his pride and took the one that had his muzzle, ears flat. She'll get it soon. When I make my move, she'll thank me for this. Dew grabbed the other one, leaving the tiny brown kitten alone in its nest. The warrior willed it to be quiet while they were gone and hesitantly crept into the clearing. He paused briefly, the moonlight dyeing his pelt silver, to peer into the elder's den. Nothing stirred.

Dew gave him a solid shove. The look in her eyes screamed let's get moving, before something goes wrong! Mudcloud dipped his head and took off into the forest. Pine needles crunched underfoot as they powerwalked through the remains of something neither of them had ever known. The kitten squirmed in his teeth. Mudcloud gave it a good shake, and it stilled.

This'll be worth it, he told himself as they leapt across the ditches that tended to trail around houses like worms in rain. Dew's eyes bored into Mudcloud's spine as he hopped the fence into Nutella's yard. The warrior set the kitten down to speak and tapped on the cat flap on the front.

Dew set the other kitten down. "Why isn't she waiting for us?"

"She's her own cat, Dew. She has a life."

She opened her mouth to argue further, then clamped it closed as a tabby molly poked her head out. Her eyes lit up upon seeing them. "Mudpie! I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Ages, huh?" Dew meowed flatly.

Mudcloud snorted derisively. "Ignore her, Nutella." He gestured to the two kittens with his tail. One of them sneezed, as if on cue. "I heard you were looking for more babies."

Nutella's jaw dropped. "Did you... drag them out into the cold?"

"Things aren't looking too great back home," he went on, still smiling. "I need someone to raise these as their own- and who better then their Auntie Nutella?"

Nutella squeezed out of the flap. The molly, normally lean by nature, was made to waddle under her low stomach as she approached the two kittens, sniffing them curiously. "Oh, the poor things. They're cold."

"They're yours," Mudcloud insisted. "If you want them."

She hesitated, tail lashing nervously. Nutella looked up at Dew, who had been strangely silent. "And you... want to do this?"

Dew's claws sank into the wood on the porch. "Look," she grunted, eyes flashing dangerously. "ThunderClan ain't no place to raise a litter if you want them sensible. All those Clan cats teach is to listen to some weird clouds and stars and shit. I wouldn't even be here if I knew I could get out safely, but I can't. They know my face and my smell." She gestured to the pile of kittens, who were getting restless now, letting out little squeaks. "This is my chance to get someone out, even if it ain't me."

Mouse-heart, Mudcloud thought, baring his teeth over Nutella's shoulder. The Clans had given him more purpose than he'd ever hoped for- and Dew would feel the same, if she ever bothered to accept her place in it. But she'd rather go on and on about being a rogue. I was one too- it's not like it's fun!

Nutella stared at Dew, then stretched her neck out to brush noses. "Okay. I'll keep them safe. I promise."

Mudcloud bounced on his paws, relieved. "Awesome! There's one more back at camp- we'll be right back with her, and then we'll leave you to yours. Sound good?"

The tabby blinked at him beseechingly. "What happened to you, Mudpie?"

"Don't worry," he meowed, winking. "I've got a plan."

Feeling as though a weight had left his shoulders, Mudcloud took the lead once again. He hadn't noticed how weird being in the open was, not until he was under the comforting cover of the trees. Dew's pawsteps kept careful time behind him.

He let out a long sigh, the end of which came out as a chuckle. "You're gonna yell at me, aren't you?"

Dew snorted. "Too late to yell. But, seriously? You didn't tell your sister we were coming?"

"I haven't exactly had oodles of time to sneak out of the territory, alright?"

She picked up the pace, getting in front of him. "That sounds an awful lot like 'I didn't want a no.'"

Mudcloud blinked down at her. "It worked, didn't it?"

"And if it hadn't?"

"Aw, don't be like that. There's plenty good bushes in the Twolegplace to stash them."

Dew bared her teeth with a hiss. "They would've died!"

"Not if the Twolegs moved fast enough." Mudcloud shuffled around her and kept moving. "I told you, Dew! I have a pl-"

"It's not much of a plan if you have to shove it in everyone's ears, you idiot!"

"It's a great plan and you'll thank me for it someday," he said over his shoulder. "I've got inside knowledge, y'see? I know how it's all gonna work out."

Dew stopped. The blue she-cat studied his retreating form a long moment, seeming to come to a decision. "Why don't you take the last one, then? It'll give you a little private time with Nutella."

Mudcloud paused. The idea was tempting. "What about you?"

"I gotta go to the dirtplace. Besides- it's a nice night and I'm up already. Might as well enjoy it, right?" Dew brushed past him once again, this time letting her tail linger against his fur. "I won't regret a single bit of this, Mudcloud. You shouldn't either."

Mudcloud smiled. "Thanks, Dew. I knew you'd come around."

The moon had ducked behind clouds by the time he arrived back in the old camp. Mudcloud cautiously peered into the den again before going into the nursery. The final kitten was where he'd left it, sleeping hard. He nudged it gently with his nose, half-expecting it to have somehow passed, but it squeaked and raised its tiny head. He scooped it up by the scruff and slipped out into the clearing.

"Mudcloud," a familiar voice rumbled.

Mudcloud froze, but forced his shoulders to relax. Don't be suspicious- this is your kid too. "Hello, Spiderstar. You're up late."

"The air felt off tonight," he responded. Spiderstar blended seamlessly into the night, making it almost impossible for Mudcloud to pinpoint him. "Tell me, old friend- why are you here?"

"I came to visit my kits, sir." Mudcloud gave the little one a nudge, making it squeak. "And when I saw Dew was gone, I thought-"

"You broke curfew."

"Yes, sir."

There was a pause. Mudcloud noticed the dark figure shift slightly, as if trying to decide where to take the conversation, but there was no hesitation in the leader's voice. "Care to explain why you reek of Twolegs?"

Mudcloud's heart sank. He'd totally forgotten to clean his scent before returning. "Sir, I-"

"The same reason you're skulking around, I suspect," said the deputy, making Mudcloud jump and whirl around. Beetooth was far easier to see, being a pale gray, but he'd never noticed him coming around behind him. "Running away, sir. Or meeting a darling."

"I would never-"

"Mudcloud," said Spiderstar. He turned and immediately found himself flat on his back. The moon peeked out through the clouds, revealing bright claws that sank down towards his throat. Mudcloud squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for pain.

None came.

"Sir," whispered Beetooth. "The kitten."

Mudcloud's eyes snapped open. The tiny brown kitten had taken the blow- a deep, gouging wound across its little throat. It gurgled, blood splurting out. Spiderstar leapt backwards, haunted. "I didn't know! It fit into his fur so well, I thought-"

"My kit!" screeched a different voice. Mudcloud rolled the kitten off his chest and stood. It hit the dusty ground with a dull thud. Dew burst through the brambles, collapsing on top of the little one with a wail. She raised her head, eyes filled with unspoken accusations. "What did you do?"

"I didn't!" Mudcloud squawked, offended by the mere thought. "Spiderstar did!"

Beetooth slunk up on Dew's other side, burying his nose in her fur. "He was taking her out of your nest while you were away, Dew. Were you aware of this?"

Dew shook her head. "No, I didn't. I just went for a walk."

"What?" he spluttered. We were just happy and agreeing! Why is she blaming it all on me? "Dew, how could you-"

"You stole my kits from me!" she threw back at him. "I know that look on your face. You took the others, didn't you? Didn't you?"

Spiderstar was on his shoulders before Mudcloud could reply. "Beetooth," he meowed, a storm in his voice. "Check the nest."

Beetooth laved a lick to Dew's pelt before trotting over to the nursery and poking his head in. He shook his head. "Empty, sir."

"You sick muskrat," Spiderstar growled, claws digging into his fur.

"I... I have a plan!" he argued desperately. "This isn't how it's supposed to work out!"

"Plans change," the leader replied, mere moments before sinking his teeth into Mudcloud's throat.

A sickening sense of weightlessness overtook the tom as he floated out of his body, landing on starry paws. Mudcloud licked the spot on his throat that had once been covered in blood, only to find it clean and groomed.

"I wasn't supposed to die!" he whispered, aghast.

"You weren't supposed to disappoint me, either, but you did."

Mudcloud turned and found himself muzzle-to-muzzle with a golden tabby easily twice his height and size. It regarded him with contempt, stars swirling in the stripes of his pelt.

"Brackenstar," he said, eyes wide. "I wasn't supposed to die! You said-"

"I said you had great potential, fluff-for-brains. I said you could bring about a new age. I never said the future was written in stone, and I certainly didn't choose you with the thought you'd become a raging, egotistical waste of breath." Brackenstar pushed past the newly dead warrior with a grumble. "I guess that means we're both disappointed."

"Where are you going?"

"To fix the mess you made." Brackenstar came up on the haphazard vigil with a scowl, though it softened slightly as he saw the kitten twitch. "What's her name?"

"What?"

"The kitten! What's her name?"

Mudcloud stared at him blankly.

The golden tabby scoffed. "Don't even know your own daughter's name. Disgraceful. You've given her quite the reputation, you know. Stealing her siblings away in the middle of the night."

"They're safe! Unharmed!"

"And as soft as a cotten, I'm sure," he replied. "But this one... this one is promising. She might be as much of a ThunderClan cat as the next, but that scar'll be proof enough for her to doubt the cats she's supposed to respect." Brackenstar's eyes began to glow. "You might not have doomed us yet, Mudcloud."

He touched his nose to the kitten's throat. The light in Brackenstar's eyes pooled down his muzzle like raindrops, landing on the shaking body of the kitten, and in a flash the wound was closed. An angry red welt that cut across her little neck, leaving it bent and twisted.

Mudcloud gaped at the scene. "You could've done that for me! I could've still served you! That baby won't remember anything."

"You lived your time, Mudcloud," Brackenstar rumbled. Gray speckled the ghost's neck; as if, by healing, he had been wounded in turn. "She hasn't."

Dew let out a gasp. "She's breathing steady!"

Spiderstar's ears perked up. "There still might be time! Beetooth, go get Mintfern!"

"On it, sir!"

"You're gonna be okay," Dew said into her fur, nuzzling her almost frantically. "I've got you, Weaselkit."

"See, there?" Brackenstar waved his tail. "Her name is Weaselkit. Now you know. If we're lucky, we'll be chanting it one day."

Chapter Text

"All I'm saying is that we deserve a feast, that's all! We could even catch it ourselves."

"And all I'm saying is that we're on a vigil, Fogfur. You know. A quiet time? So maybe let's plan this afterwards."

Fogfur looked legitimately offended, ears flying backwards. "I know that! But we deserve a little preferential treatment, don't we? We just saved all of ThunderClan! Tell them, Nutstripe."

The sandy yellow tom was far less self-assured than his littermate, shuffling his paws self-consciously. "It was just one patrol. Any group of warriors could do that."

"Exactly! Which is why we're sitting here now. How many apprentices get to be named for defeating their enemies?"

That was enough for Weaselface, who had been irritably listening for some time now as the new warriors argued back and forth. She twisted her head around, baring the unsightly pink scar that went across her neck and up to the side of her jaw. "Would it kill you to shut up? You're acting like Antpaw didn't die!"

Nutstripe flinched, shoulder bunching up to his chin. Fogfur wound her tail around him supportively and glared at her. "He was our brother, possum-breath- of course we miss him! But he'd want us to be happy about this."

No, he wouldn't, she thought, rolling her eyes. Antpaw chafed with rules and regulations, much like his sister, but unlike her he'd always been a bit more productive with how he showed it. He'd be yowling outside of Spiderstar's den right now, not trying to get us to go swan-hunting.

The black and white fur of Adderpelt registered in the corner of her eye as he settled in beside her, and Weaselface found herself relaxing slightly. In spite of being Spiderstar's son- or perhaps because of it- Adderpelt had always been mild-mannered and easy to get along with. They'd spent most of their kithood together, learning to live with their various ailments; the damage to Weaselface's throat made it harder to breathe in the cold, and Adderpelt had been born with only one back leg.

"I know it's hard," he whispered, ashamed at having broken vigil law even as he nuzzled the side of her face. "Are you gonna be okay? You and Antpaw had that... thing going."

"I'll be fine," she meowed, not quite believing it herself. Maybe, just maybe, if I don't tell anyone, that night will have never happened, and I can enjoy being a warrior, and it won't be complicated.

Adderpelt blinked at her dubiously, but didn't argue. "Okay. If it's never not okay, though, you can tell me, alright?"

Weaselface gladly buried her face in his chest fur. Hearing Adderpelt breathe and move almost made last night feel like a bad dream. "Alright."

"Am I interrupting something?"

The two warriors pulled away as Spiderstar slipped out of the tunnel, looking amused. "I thought I heard talking. But my newest warriors wouldn't do such a thing, would they?" He glanced slyly at Fogfur, who was frozen on the spot, eyes wide. "Ah, I'm just pulling your tail! Good on you not to speak before dismissed, though. Your vigil is over."

Nutstripe sighed with relief. "That felt like it lasted seasons."

"The night air'll do that to you," Spiderstar agreed. "Nothing too bad, I hope? No aches or pains?" he added, looking at Adderpelt.

Adderpelt turned six shades of red. "Dad, I already told you, my leg isn't the same as Smokescar's tail."

"You're the boss, buddy," he meowed. "'Xcept when you're not, of course. Anyway. Who's up for an early morning border patrol?"

"I am!" Fogfur announced. "I'm just itching to get my claws into some fresh-kill."

"Multi-tasking. A good strategy. Anyone else?"

Nutstripe reluctantly shook his head. "I need to sleep a bit before I'll be of much use, sir."

"I guess I'm in," Adderpelt meowed with a shrug. "Weasel?"

Weaselface hesitated. She didn't want to let her Clan down, not on her first day as a warrior, but she had more pressing matters to attend to first. "I'll join up in a bit. I wanna visit Dew."

Spiderstar's features darkened a moment, as though he were remembering something unfortunate, before lighting up again. "Just be careful, okay? The Old Thunderpath seems to be in use more and more these days."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, now, you can't be calling me that forever, dear. When you and Adderpelt finally get together, you're to address me as 'dad', understood?"

Weaselface's heart clenched in her chest as her tail sheepishly wound around her back paws. It was nice to know that no one knew just yet, but it was also terrifying. "Yes, Spiderstar."

Getting from the ThunderClan camp to the elder's camp was no small feat. It required crossing a Thunderpath and a Twolegpath, and that was just to get into the more pine-filled part of the territory. It was at least midday by the time Weaselface found herself at the entrance, which was being guarded by the last new warrior.

"Sweetshine," Weaselface greeted.

The calico barely glanced up from her paws. She looked destroyed inside and out; her usually soft and plump coat was ragged and dirty, and her eyes had become dull and listless. "You can go on in."

Remembering Adderpelt's kindness, Weaselface responded in kind, gently brushing noses with her. "I'm sorry I couldn't join you last night."

"No, no, it's okay. I... needed to be alone." Sweetshine let out a weak laugh. "I always thought we'd be... at least, I didn't expect it to end like that."

"He'd want us to be happy today."

"No, he wouldn't."

"No, he wouldn't," she agreed. "But don't tell Fogfur that."

Weaselface shoved her way past an untangled bramble and into the rotting camp. Most of the elders were out by now, sunning themselves merrily. Off to the side was Squirrelwhisker, who had announced she was pregnant almost a moon ago now and was just beginning to show (presumably, to keep the comfort coming, she had finally deigned babyhood worthwhile), snoozing fitfully. She awkwardly tip-toed past her. She probably blames me for Antpaw. He was her apprentice, after all.

The elders den was musty and dark, keeping her mother in shadow even as she approached, head low. "Hey, Dew. I didn't see you at the ceremony yesterday, so I just figured I'd come by and-"

"I was there," she rasped, not bothering to look at her. Dew rarely ever did. "Weaselface. What a horrible, horrible name."

Weaselface settled in beside her, loafing. "Spiderstar says it's to honor my good looks."

Dew hissed irritably. The elder shifted, raising a paw to gently touch the side of her face. "No one blames him for what happened to Mudcloud. No one blames him for what happened to you. But stars-forbid he ever let us move past it."

"Antpaw-"

"I know. Squirrelwhisker won't stop bitching to me about it." She sighed gruffly. "Maybe the name is a good thing. Your father got such a big head over his, you know. He thought it was the coolest thing. I don't want history repeating itself with you."

"I won't get a big head, mom," Weaselface meowed. It was a common enough topic for her mother to rant on about; her father, and how he died. Part of Dew never really recovered from that night, she thought. When she looks at me, she sees him. "I gotta get going, okay? Spiderstar wants me on patrol as soon as possible."

Dew snorted at the tom's name, but didn't argue.

Weaselface licked her cheek and stood. "Anything I can get you before I go? Prey?"

"I might mope a lot, but my legs work fine," she replied. Dew paused, studying her pelt. "You smell different today, Weasel."

"I think that's just part of growing up."

"No, that's not it. Dovefrost brought it up to me the other day, all worried and stuff. I hadn't noticed until now." Dew gave her a nudge. Something almost happy flickered in her yellow eyes. "Be careful on patrol, eh? Lots of stuff to trip on out there."

Weaselface swallowed a wave of anxiety. Crap, it absolutely happened and it's not just me going bat-brained. "I won't, mom. Wouldn't wanna make an idiot of myself on my first day, right?"

Chapter Text

Weaselface felt adrenaline in her legs as she carefully crept forward, peering out of the bushes. Dovefrost waved her fluffy white tail to cease, and she did so. Her old mentor's ear flicked towards Birchfoot; who, in turn, gave Bumblepaw a pointed nudge. Bumblepaw gave an excited little bounce and began to stalk closer. The apprentice was fluid as she cautiously put one paw in front of the other, tail quivering from the effort to hold it out straight.

Weaselface's eyes darted anxiously toward the blackbird. The morsel was beginning to hop away, searching for better worms to snack on. It wouldn't be long now before it took off completely. She tensed, about to give Bumblepaw some backup, but Dovefrost gave her a very pointed jab and she settled. Weaselface pouted.

The bird stretched out its wings, and in that moment Bumblepaw shot out of hiding. The blackbird startled and took off, but the second of hesitation was all she needed; she bunched her legs and leapt, catching its mid-air. She landed and quickly sank her teeth into its neck.

"That was amazing!" Birchfoot gushed, coming up on his apprentice's side with a proud gleam to his eyes. "Where'd you learn that trick, huh? I certainly didn't teach it to you."

Bumblepaw shrugged, torn between bragging and being sheepish about the whole thing. "I thought it'd look cool."

Dovefrost slunk out next, looking thoughtful. "It's a great last resort, but I'd keep it to a minimum when catching prey is necessity." The molly snuck Weaselface a disappointed look. "And next time, we should be a bit more patient."

Weaselface sank her claws into the dirt, pelt hot. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I'm just getting hungry."

"Didn't you eat before we left?"

"Yeah, a vole."

"Eat more when we get back," Dovefrost meowed, as if this were great wisdom. "For now, let's stop and get a drink. Maybe it'll help curb the slobber, eh?"

Bumblepaw scraped some dirt over her blackbird. "I could go for a drink."

Weaselface let the 'paw take the lead, deeply embarrassed. Every pawstep made her want to dig a hole and hide as she steadfastly ignored Bumblepaw's questioning glance over her shoulder. What kind of warrior makes a scene during another cat's assessment?

Dovefrost seemed to sense her conflicted feelings, picking up the pace to rub soothingly against her. "You're just hungry, that's all. No one's at their best hungry."

"I already had my fill."

"If you were eating for just one, yeah, but you're not."

Weaselface flinched so hard she almost tripped. "You know?"

Dovefrost stifled a laugh with a cough. "Weasel, dear, you're far enough along to show."

"Yeah," she said, trying awkwardly to cover up the beginning of a bump with her stride, "but no one else-"

"Most cats don't go sniffing at each other's bellies for nothing. But you've been smelling off to me for a bit now, and I already suspected. How far are you? Two weeks?"

Weaselface groaned and nodded. The rush of a stream stopped Dovefrost from going on. Thankful for the break in what was quickly becoming a weird conversation, the new warrior picked up the pace, dipping her nose into the cold spray. Her stomach clenched at the chill, but the water was so delicious she kept on drinking anyway.

"See if you can find Smokescar," Dovefrost instructed Bumblepaw, who licked her lips and bounded off. The white molly studied her a long moment before asking; "Does Adderpelt know?"

She choked mid-swallow, breaking off into a coughing fit. Weaselface glared at her, feeling her throat burn. "What does that mean?"

The molly shrugged. "I figured he was the donor. He is, right?"

Weaselface opened her mouth, then closed it, undecided. It was tempting to lie, no doubt about it, but that wouldn't be fair to Adderpelt. However, in a way, it was comforting to know the misconception was happening even without his express permission; that not even her old mentor had suspected what had really come of the night she slipped out of camp.

"He doesn't know," she said finally.

Dovefrost wiped her wet chin on her arm. "You might wanna tell him soon, then. Before the rest of the Clan beats you to it." She licked her cheek, leaving a stripe of cool wetness behind. "For what it's worth, I think you'll be a good mother."

Weaselface stared at the face in the river. It look scared and hollow. It occurred to her, suddenly, that she'd been so worried about telling everyone that she hadn't given even the slightest thought to what they'd be like, or the kind of mother she'd be. "For their sake, I hope you're right."

"I'm just saying it's a bit early for an assessment, that's all," Smokescar argued as the other patrol approached. With him was his apprentice, Ratpaw, as well as Flintpoppy and Fogfur. None of them held prey. "Spiderstar can't possibly expect the kids to know how to catch birds already, can they?"

Bumblepaw awkwardly pushed the blackbird behind her. "I was lucky," she told Ratpaw as he slunk over, ashamed. "It almost got away, too. Just ask Birchfoot."

Ratpaw's tail lashed. "I would've gotten a crow," he grumbled, "if dad didn't start yowling."

"It was too big! You could've been hurt." The black tom nudged him supportively. "You'll get it next time, sport."

"I could've gotten it today! You just wouldn't let me."

Smokescar ignored him, flicking an ear towards camp. Dovefrost took the lead, flanked by Fogfur. The gray tabby looked rather bored with the whole affair. Flintpoppy shyly brushed pelts with Weaselface as she moved past. Weaselface took up the back, watching with an odd sense of sadness as Bumblepaw wrapped her tail around Ratpaw's haunches. This is why kin shouldn't mentor kin. Especially kin like Smokescar.

They dispersed within ThunderClan's walls. Weaselface watched as Birchfoot and Smokescar hopped up the stones and vanished into the leader's den. Dovefrost shot her one last look before trotting away, calling a greeting to Brackenpelt. She could just barely make out Sweetshine and Nutstripe commiserating in a shadowy corner, tails intertwined. They're probably talking about Antpaw.

Adderpelt was grabbing a rabbit from the fresh-kill pile when he spotted her. The black and white tom's eyes lit up as he gestured for her to come closer. This is as good a time as ever, Weaselface thought, puffing out her chest. It didn't make her feel any less terrified.

"How'd it go?" Adderpelt asked as she grew nearer, shuffling over so she could settle in by him.

Weaselface didn't take the unspoken invitation, sitting in front of the rabbit. "Smokescar ruined Ratpaw's chances again, but Bumblepaw did pretty good."

"I still don't see why Spiderstar gave Smokescar his own son. We all knew it was going to be a disaster."

"I mean, who else could take him? All the other warriors were training us."

"Switch out Birchfoot and Smokescar. Bam. Everyone has a decent mentor." Adderpelt cocked his head to the side. "What's the matter? You love rabbit."

"I'm... just nervous, is all."

"Oh?"

"Dovefrost was giving me dung again."

He rolled his eyes. "Dovefrost is a great mentor, but she couldn't curb her tongue if she rammed it into a wall."

Weaselface laughed a little, uncomfortable. "You know how you said I could talk to you? A-About... you know?"

Adderpelt's eyes grew wide at the waver in her voice. He got to his paws, drawing her in with a comforting purr. She buried her face in his scruff. "I miss him too," he admitted. "Everyone keeps acting like he never existed, but..."

"That's kind of the problem," meowed Weaselface. "I'm pregnant, Adderpelt."

She felt him tense underneath her chin.

"Oh," he said finally. "Congratulations. I-If you want them, of course."

Weaselface hesitated. That was the easy part. "Dovefrost thought they were yours."

Adderpelt blinked. He seemed lost in thought as he edged back slightly, meeting her eyes. There was fear in his features, the twinge of his whiskers, but he tried to smile. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." He looked around, as if expecting someone to be listening in, before going on; "They can be. Mine, I mean."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I've always liked kits." He perked up a little, the idea sinking in and becoming more and more comfortable as he spoke. "And it'd get my dad off our backs. Everybody wins, right?"

"I think I'd like to go on patrols and stuff. When the kits get big enough. Would you be okay watching them?"

"Absolutely!" Adderpelt wound himself around her again, this time to bump noses. "I'd never ask you to leave your warrior duties behind. We can work out a schedule- I take some days and you take others." He was starting to get excited now, bouncing a little. "Just imagine their little paws! Oh, stars, I'll bet they crawl everywhere."

Weaselface groaned. "They're going to drive me crazy, I can tell." Still, the idea was borderline perfect, wasn't it? Adderpelt was basically handing her social security, even if he didn't perceive it that way, and he was patient enough to correct any mistakes she might make. They could raise a decent litter together. But.. "What if they look like him?"

The black and white tom froze. The idea of seeing their dead Clanmate so soon haunted both of them. "I guess we could play it off as my blood? I'm black and white, Antpaw was black and white spots." He stopped, then added, the concept clearing discomforting, "And we could maybe name it Antkit to remember him? To get rid of any suspicion."

The she-cat's stomach squeezed, as if the kittens inside heard and refused. She shook her head. "Naming kits after a dead cat feels... tacky. Maybe another insect, if we have to? Beetlekit, or something."

"That wouldn't be too bad," he agreed, visibly relieved.

"Ooh, rabbit!" meowed Fogfur, who gladly took the open spot Adderpelt had left behind. She ripped a decent-sized chunk off and swallowed. "What're we talking about over here, anyway?"

Weaselface looked at Adderpelt. He was staring at her, a million questions in his eyes. She nodded.

The warrior quickly shoved his way between Fogfur and the fresh-kill. "Kit names. Now, gimme that. Weasel needs plenty of food."

The tabby's eyes lit up. "You're gonna have kits? That's amazing!" Fogfur gently headbutted her shoulder. "I could mentor one of them!"

"Yeah," said Weaselface, surprised to find herself disappointed. What's wrong with me? This is everything I should ever want. A good friend, a good future, and some half-decent Clanmates. "Maybe."

Chapter Text

"Ha!" cried Weaselface as her paws descended on the boggy ground. She peeked between the pads of her paws to find her quarry had gotten away. Her head snapped up just in time for the lizard to slip into the bushes. The molly took off after it at a sprint. "Get back here, you little bugger!"

The lizard was quicker than she'd given it credit for. It squirmed towards the water unhindered by Weaselface's attempts. Its little fingers brushed the waves just in time for a golden paw to stamp down on its spine, killing it. Weaselface stopped, panting, as the tabby tom gleefully picked it up in his maw. "Nice catch!"

"You tired it out for me," he deflected, smiling indulgently. "Tell me, Weaselface; do you recognize me?"

Weaselface cocked her head to the side. There was something familiar about him. In spite of the white crowding his muzzle, she didn't think he was very old at all. The white went down his neck, reminiscent of the scar across her own face. She opened her mouth to scent him. He smelled of pines, and bog, and decay. It niggled at her as she tried to place him.

Finally, she spoke; "I don't think so, no."

"That's alright," he said. "I don't have much time now, Weaselface, but I'll tell you everything soon. When the waves come, let them pull you under."

"What?"

He shook his head. "We'll talk again soon, Weaselfa-"

"Weaselface!"

She startled awake. Weaselface forced herself to sit up. The reek of pine clung to her throat like mucus as she took in deep mouthfuls of air.

"Taking our time today, are we?" Beetooth meowed gruffly. The very tip of his tail was twitching.

Weaselface swallowed and glanced around. The warrior's den was empty. Mouse-dung! "Sorry."

The deputy watched without moving as she stood and stretched out every limb. "You've never had issues waking up before. Did you have a bad night?"

"No, sir. Just a really realistic dream."

"Oh?"

"Yes, sir. I was hunting."

Beetooth smiled. His underbite was prominent against his lips. "Well, let's see if we can't make that dream a reality, eh?"

Weaselface's pelt burned with embarrassment as she trudged into the clearing, avoiding the prying eyes of her Clanmates. It was a bright, sunny Newleaf day, with just the barest edge of chill in the breeze, and it was absolutely baffling that she'd slept in as late as she had. Is it because I'm pregnant? Weaselface had never given much attention to the queens in ThunderClan beyond hunting for them and changing the moss; she knew very little about the process itself outside of the basics.

Does being pregnant give you hyper-realistic dreams? The thought crossed her mind, though she dismissed it quickly as stupid. Having kittens didn't suddenly make a cat a dream expert. If it did, wouldn't medicine cats be pressured to have them, rather than forbidden? But it felt so real. I can still smell the lizard. And that stranger didn't feel like a figment of my imagination.

"Caught in the clouds, Weaselface?"

She flinched and looked up. Caught up in deciphering dreams that were probably just a result of bad fresh-kill, she'd almost run muzzle-first into Spiderstar. "I'm so sorry, sir!" she yelped, backing up a step. "I'm being bee-brained is all."

Thankfully, Spiderstar seemed to take her change in stride. His amber eyes glowed warmly as he regarded her. "It's not a problem. I can only imagine how stressful this time must be for you."

"Oh," she said, shuffling her feet. "Adderpelt told you."

Spiderstar laughed. "No, that was Flintpoppy." The black tom casually wound around her side with a purr. "I can't tell you how excited I am, though. I was always a bit worried about Adderpelt, you know? He's not much of a warrior; too soft, too lenient. But I knew you'd keep him safe. And now, with kits coming, he'll have all the more reason to fight harder."

Weaselface's heart dropped to her paws at the thought of another battle. "Sir," she said carefully, "I hope you aren't going to send him off like when we were apprentices. Grief isn't good for kittens."

"Nonsense- it's better to be you two than your little ones, amiright?" He gave her shoulder a playful nudge. "Anyway, do you mind if I ask a little favor from you? Ratpaw's been kicking up a huge fuss about his hunting assessment, so I want you and Fogfur to redo it without Smokescar."

The warrior blinked at him, surprised. She was happy to see Ratpaw shine, but it didn't seem quite like Spiderstar to listen to an apprentice's word against their mentor's. "You think he'll pass?"

"Oh, no," he replied, sounding for all the world as if he was talking about the weather. "But if it shuts him up, then I'll take it."

"Fogfur, I think we're supposed to be watching Ratpaw hunt. Not... this."

The gray tabby shoved her muzzle in the stream after a minnow. Her teeth latched onto pebbles instead, and she came up spitting them out. "Hey, we're allowed to have a snack while we watch, aren't we?"

Weaselface's nose wrinkled. "I think I'll pass. I'm not much of a rock cat."

"Don't knock it 'till you try it." Fogfur's whiskers twitched amicably. "Mintfern's always trying to get queens to take their minerals, after all."

She stuck her tongue out. Now that everyone knew, it was getting harder and harder to dodge the little hints and questions of what came next. It all pressed in around her; how many did she want, what names were they thinking of, were there any pelt colors she was hoping for, and so on. Deep down, it was hard for her to even recognize she was pregnant, let alone that she was soon going to parent a number of lives.

"Space case," Fogfur meowed, giving her a jab. "Come back to Earth, Weasel. Ratpaw's moving."

"Right! Sorry." Weaselface's ears swiveled forward as she took the lead once again. Ratpaw crept out of some bushes and took off, returning with a finch. He looked winded as he set it beside the mouse he'd nabbed not long before, scraping dirt over the fresh-kill.

Ratpaw had proven himself a decent hunter so far- not as good as Bumblepaw, but easily more competent than Smokescar had reported. It made Weaselface a little sick to see the father continuously ignore his son and his wishes. He probably just wants to keep him as a 'paw for as long as possible, but it's so... oof.

Fogfur, seeming to catch onto her thoughts, grimaced. "He's a bad mentor."

"Yeah."

"You know why Spiderstar did it, right? Because Smokescar always backs him up."

Somehow, that only made Weaselface more uncomfortable, though she didn't dare voice that out loud. "It was his decision, and I'm sure he had good hopes for it, but it's still a shame."

The gray tabby rolled her eyes. "It's mouse-brained. I won't be like that, when I'm a mentor." She paused, seemingly just realizing that she was bad-mouthing Spiderstar, which hadn't ever gotten anyone an apprentice before. "Do you think he'll let me?"

"Maybe," Weaselface meowed, watching Ratpaw face-plant after failing to snag a robin. Bad luck!

"Maybe one of yours?"

"I dunno," she replied, not entirely comfortable with the idea. "Maybe?"

Fogfur contemplated it for a second. "Well, if not me, then Nutstripe, right?"

Weaselface paused. Nutstripe was soft-spoken and patient. "I wouldn't be against it."

She accepted that with a nod. "Okay. I could... I could do that. He's been really shaken up lately, you know? He needs a confidence booster. And he's really good at hunting!"

"Your brother did just die."

The fur along Fogfur's spine rose. "Why do you keep saying that? It's not like it's news."

"You act like it never happened!"

"Of course it happened! Have you seen how hurt Nutstripe is? Sweetshine?" Fogfur thrust her muzzle in Weaselface's face, making the molly step back. "You need to stop acting all high and mighty just because you miss him. We all do."

Weaselface's nose wrinkled, unintentionally revealing a fang. "Says the cat who wanted to throw a feast the night he died."

"In his honor!" Fogfur snorted. "You sound so much like Dew, you know that? All she ever did was nitpick everyone for missing your dad. Now you want us all to grieve the exact same way. Is that what you're gonna teach your kits?"

"To be respectful of the dead? I dunno. Probably."

The warrior shoved past her and clambered after Ratpaw. Weaselface, tail lashing, complied with the silent order to follow her. Maybe it was cruel of her to judge, but if she didn't, then all she had was that empty feeling that had been hounding her for the past couple of days. It's better to be angry than indifferent.

"He did good, sir," Fogfur finished her report with the flourish. "A lot better than he did with Smokescar, anyway. He caught basically anything we asked him to look for, minus a robin and a tricky vole."

Spiderstar hummed and nodded. "Well, thanks for taking the time out. Be sure to grab yourselves some extra off the pile today, alright? My treat."

That's it? Weaselface worked her claws into the dirt with barely contained curiosity. "Are you going to give him to someone else?" she asked.

"What?" The leader stared at her, confused. "No. Why would I do that?"

"Smokescar's proven he-"

"Smokescar-" Spiderstar cut her off- "Is right to have his doubts in an apprentice who's only a few moons along. His sudden increase in hunting ability is promising, but it's an achievement his mentor assuredly had a paw in. Are there any other questions?"

Weaselface gaped at him like a fish. "What was the point, then?"

"Weasel," Fogfur warned quietly.

She ignored her. "Re-doing an assessment is a sign that there's something faulty in a mentor's teaching, isn't it? Why would you send us out there just to brush us off now?"

"I gave you my reasons," he answered calmly. "Ratpaw felt he needed a second shot. I indulged him. Really, Weaselface, I don't see why you'd think it more complicated than that." Spiderstar gently nosed her shoulder, but the grin didn't meet his eyes. "I know you're stressed over the kittens, but you're well taken care of here in ThunderClan."

Weaselface paused, unsure. "I thought I was giving birth in the old camp. Like Dew did."

"That was Dew's choice. Just like it's my choice that the mother of my grandkits should be safe from any kitnappers and kittypets." Spiderstar dismissed the concept with a flick of his paw. "Besides, Squirrelwhisker has earned that punishment, letting Antpaw die like that."

He died protecting me! Weaselface wanted to snarl, knowing full well that he knew that too, but Spiderstar didn't look interested. "I had Flintpoppy make you a nest while you were gone. She put a lot of work into it, you know. You should thank her." His tail slung around her back in what Weaselface assumed he felt was a comforting gesture. "I know what this is about. You wanted to mentor him, didn't you?"

"What?"

"Mudcloud was the same way around kits. He wanted to be a mentor one day, then deputy, then leader. Just focus on your own litter for now, okay? Who knows? Maybe, one day, you'll be able to make that kind of leap. But not right now."

I could be totting three litters in here and I'd still be a decent deputy! Weaselface thought viciously, then stopped herself. A voice like her mother's told her to watch it, before she made the same mistakes her father had made. "It doesn't have to be me, sir. It could be Fogfur, or Nutstripe, or anyone else! Just, please don't keep him on with Smokescar."

Spiderstar shook his head. "Being part of a Clan is living with cats you just don't work well with. Ratpaw's just going to have to move past that. Now, go lay down, alright? You're starting to worry me- stress isn't good on a queen."

I'm barely even showing! They're the size of specks in there!

Thankfully, Fogfur intervened, muscling Weaselface away from what would clearly be a very dumb move. "Thank you for the snack privileges, sir. I'll be sure to hunt extra hard tomorrow to make up for it."

"See that you do," Spiderstar meowed, relaxing a bit. He dismissed them with his tail.

The warrior practically shoved her out of the den; and Weaselface, in a haze of rage, stumbled and almost fell along the way, but kept on moving with the full understanding that if she fell Spiderstar would see and probably laugh about it to himself later.

"Stars, you're a mouse-brain," Fogfur meowed eventually. Weaselface turned to snap at her, only to spot her whiskers trembling. Is she... trying not to laugh? "You do know he's the guy who did that to your face, right?"

"So what?" she meowed. "That doesn't make him keeping Ratpaw as Smokescar's 'paw any less stupid."

"Well, how about this- when you're leader, you can decide who does or doesn't get trained by who."

Weaselface snorted. Leader? The idea was preposterous. "Sure, right. And you can be my deputy."

Chapter Text

"I think the ground is more water than it is dirt," Nutstripe meowed, pressing a paw down on a mossy patch. Almost instantly a puddle gurgled up. "I should probably pick my squirrel up, huh?"

Weaselface snorted around her blackbird, giving his shoulder a playful shove. "Look on the bright side, fluff-for-brains. It'll give you a drink and a bite to eat."

The sky rumbled ominously above. The hunting patrol had split off early in the morning; it'd been nice and bright, then. The rain had come in heartbeats, driving herself and Nutstripe under the dip of a tree.

"We won't be thirsty," she said, trying to keep the conversation going. Weaselface thrived in this place, this moment, where they could ignore everything else but something mundane like the weather. "I think we're fresh outta luck for prey, though."

"Back to camp?"

Weaselface sighed melodramatically. "If we must."

The rain tapered off as quickly as it started. The breeze was chilly, bringing with it the scents of cold and newly-awakened prey. Leaf-bare and Newleaf warring over the land. It made Weaselface's blood surge with excitement. Training in the snow was awful- I'll take rain any day! They sprinted eagerly through the sloshing puddles. Nutstripe didn't call a race, but Weaselface made sure to pull ahead regardless, snickering at the way he squinted at her.

"I win!" she proclaimed, tail high.

Nutstripe rolled his eyes. "I'm carrying the heavier prey, that's all!"

"It's not my fault you waterlogged it." Weaselface batted at a dripping tail. "A win's a win!"

"Congratulations, Weasel."

Weaselface and Nutstripe both flinched, turning sheepishly around. Sitting at the entrance of the camp was Flintpoppy, smiling pleasantly. The tortoiseshell was slightly damp, but her sleek fur dried quickly. She wasn't an intimidating warrior like Beetooth, nor did she have the same amount of respect as Dovefrost, but Flintpoppy had a special kind of pull; she was Spiderstar's mate.

"Sorry," she mumbled, pelt hot. I blew it! No one's gonna take me seriously now.

"Don't apologize, dear," Flintpoppy reassured her, winding her long tail around her haunches. "I love a good race."

"Were you waiting for us?"

"Of course. I've got a special surprise for you, Weasel," she said. "It's not as good as a race, but I think you'll like it."

Weaselface's ears twisted back. It wasn't hard to guess what her surprise was related to. "Uh, sure. Just let me put this on the pile."

Flintpoppy shook her head stubbornly. "Nutstripe's got it. You need your rest." She bumped Weaselface's rear with her skull, making her jump and move. She glanced over her shoulder and mouthed, "I'm sorry" to Nutstripe, who laughed awkwardly and shrugged.

Sure enough, the molly quickly herded her towards the nursery. Weaselface sighed inwardly. She knew that she was getting bigger, and she had expected the move to come sooner rather than later, but it was frustrating. Why does everyone keep acting like this is the end of the world? Queens have kits all the time.

"Go on," Flintpoppy urged, grinning ear to ear.

Weaselface stuck her head inside. The nursery was one of the strongest dens in ThunderClan, with brambles so interwoven the den was practically as dark as night. The ground underneath her was hardpacked and lacking any pesky roots or twigs for kitten to trip on. In the corner farthest from the opening was a thick, luscious moss nest. It was so big Weaselface was certain it could hold an entire patrol.

Next to it sat Dew, who gestured to it with a paw. "Ta-da."

"Mom?" Weaselface meowed, more surprised to see her than she was anything else. She gingerly padded over to the molly, sniffing. "You never come to the camp. Is that... lavender?"

"That was my idea!" Flintpoppy chirped, tail wagging with excitement. "Spiderstar did the same thing when I was pregnant with Adderpelt. The lavender is great for resting and relaxing."

Dew rolled her eyes. "She wouldn't leave me alone until I stopped by. Something about being supportive."

Flintpoppy gave her another shove, this time gentle. "Try it!"

"Do it," Dew rumbled. "Or I'm taking it home with me."

"You're too short to carry it, Dew."

"Bite me, Flint."

Hoping to stop the argument before it escalated, Weaselface carefully stepped onto the nest. It was squishy, but not so soft she could feel the hard floor. She did a loose loafing motion and immediately got a nose-full of lavender. "Wow."

Flintpoppy's whiskers twitched deviously. "It's nice, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she marveled, rolling onto her side. "I don't think I've ever slept on something this nice before."

"You haven't," Dew said, with only the slightest hint of jealousy. She waved a paw at her stomach. "May I?"

Weaselface nodded. She'd seen her mother work with other queens before, and knew that for all her grumbling she was quite adept in the task. Dew reached out and stroked along the thinner fur, eyes fluttering closed. She muttered something under her breath before opening them. "I'd guess three in there. Maybe four if it's hiding."

A shudder passed down Weaselface's spine. Three kittens. A normal-sized litter. But... "Wow. In context with popping them out, that's a lot of cats."

"They'll be even more trouble when they're out," Flintpoppy promised. Weaselface wasn't sure if that was meant to be comforting, but it didn't feel comforting. "Honestly, Dew, quit the theatrics. We could've gotten the same result with a quick visit to Mintfern."

Dew snorted. "Mintfern treats all her patients like mice to play with. Why else d'ya think so many queens come running to me? My personality?"

"She might be a bit odd, but she's fully trained."

"That's another thing," she replied. "What is with you Clan cats and only teaching one cat about birth? Ain't never met a rogue or loner who didn't know how to help a wandering queen. Hell, most house cats can do ya' the same turn."

Flintpoppy sighed. "It's a privilage, Dew. To know how to heal and speak with StarClan. I don't think your brutish brain will ever get that."

"Clearly," said Dew.

The world had turned to hissing, shrieking blurs. Weaselface watched on, glued to the ground, as claws and teeth met fur and flesh. The air reeked of blood and fish. The warrior swallowed a mouthful of bile.

"Why are you showing me this?" she whispered.

The golden tabby tom didn't respond immediately, sitting down beside her. His tail wound around his legs. "RiverClan?" he guessed, correctly. "It's hard to get your teeth into them, all the fish oil they rub into their pelts before battle. Or maybe they're just naturally oily."

Weaselface stared at him, horrified. "Why are you showing me this?" she repeated, louder.

"I can't control-"

"Don't bullshit me!" she hissed. It wasn't often Weaselface dipped into the swears used by rogues, but she knew basically all of them, and they tended to make Clan cats listen. "I don't dream in color. I never have. You're the one doing this to me!"

"Weaselface," the tom rumbled, eyes narrowing. "I don't pick and choose how your mind works. I can't look through your memory and pick one at random to project. Something reminded you of this night, and this is the result."

Nearby, a gray tabby tackled a larger cat away. Weaselface knew it was Fogfur- Fogpaw, at the time. She was shaking down to her bones. "I don't want to remember this."

The golden tom was watching the two cats fight. "You were young."

"I'm young now."

"Too young to fight alone. Where are the warriors?"

Weaselface snorted and looked away. "We were by the elders' camp. No one hangs out near there."

His face darkened. "ShadowClan camp."

"ShadowClan?" The word tasted weird in her mouth. "Weren't they a buncha snake-hearts?"

"No," he said, as if this was very plain fact. "ShadowClan- my Clan- was not 'a buncha snake-hearts'. We were proud warriors, just like you and your friends."

Weaselface's heart dropped into her stomach. "Oh." She considered the tom's words and tone. He reminded her of Spiderstar, in a way. Less condescending, but equally as controlling. "Were you... leader?"

That brought a smile to his muzzle, wistful. "My name is Brackenstar. I've been waiting to meet you your whole life, Weaselface. A cat of pure rogue blood, born in my old camp."

"This... is starting to sound like a prophecy."

"Not a prophecy," he promised. "A plan."

A gray and white cat leapt through Brackenstar, making Weaselface stumble backwards with a hiss. The cat rammed full-force into tiny Weaselpaw, throwing her to the ground. Her shoulder was gushing blood as she glared at her attacker, teeth bared.

"Grumpy," Brackenstar commented.

"RiverClan's had a bone to pick with ThunderClan for seasons. Something about a cross-border romance that ended with the ThunderClan cat being exiled."

"Ah. Shame."

"It was pretty brutal. I hear she was pregnant."

All the talking in the world couldn't stop Weaselface for staring at Antpaw as he hopped around, clawing muzzles. Seeing him alive and bright made her feel ill, especially with what came next. She whirled around and padded away, tail low.

"Leaving so soon?" Brackenstar asked.

"I'd like to wake up now."

"You're lucky that's in the cards. Remember, Weaselface; when the waves come, let them pull you under."

"That still doesn't make any fuc-"

"Weasel!"

Weaselface burst awake and immediately threw up.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Lean on me." Adderpelt carefully curled up beside her. Weaselface did as he bid, slumping against his scrawny frame. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head mutely, mind swirling. That was real. I know it was. But what does he want from me? "Did... did you fall asleep next to me?"

The black and white tom had the sense to look embarrassed. "Sorry. I just came by with a breakfast present. See?" He flicked his tail towards a juicy vole. "And, well. The nest looked so comfy. The lavender reminded me of when I was a kid."

"I'm glad you're here," she rasped. Weaselface buried her nose in his scruff. She didn't want to imagine how bad her breath must smell. "It- it was Antpaw. I was there, but... I wasn't. I couldn't save him."

Adderpelt nodded. "You've been really stressed lately, Weasel. And Antpaw dying didn't make any of this easier on anyone. Lemme get the vomit moss out of here, alright? You just relax."

Weaselface tottered to her paws. "No, no, I got it. I need some fresh air." She got to work before Adderpelt could argue, scraping away at the vomit-covered edge of the nest. It tore and almost seemed to unwind, revealing a layer of ribbon-like material. It was slick, and oily, and now that the lavender covering had been moved away it immediately began to reek, filling the den with an awful odor.

"Seaweed," Adderpelt meowed. "Under the moss, it's all..."

Weaselface hurled.

Chapter Text

Flintpoppy brushed noses with Spiderstar as he took his place at the front of the camp, tail curling pleasantly. "Don't scare them too badly, dear."

"We'll see," he purred, sparing her a quick lick. "Take good care of the camp while we're away. Don't hesitate to rip some eyeballs out if the munchkins get out of line."

She examined her claws. "I never do."

Adderpelt stuck his tongue out at their shenanigans, making Weaselface chuckle awkwardly as he sat next to her. Gatherings are hard enough without being part of the announcements, she thought, but there was no escaping it- ThunderClan had a fresh batch of new warriors, one of whom was pregnant with what he assumed was his son's litter. Spiderstar must be over the moon with all the bragging he's gonna get to do.

Because of the awkward balance between new warriors and older warriors, the camp was filled with graying muzzles as she took her place in the crowd. Even Dovefrost, who was one of the most respected warriors, stayed behind with little fuss. Bumblepaw and Ratpaw watched jealously from their den; Spiderstar had refused them entry due to Ratpaw's 'unfounded' actions towards Smokescar, which Bumblepaw had supported. Weaselface knew she should probably keep a stiff lip about it, if only to avoid causing any ruckus, but it was nice to see how close and caring the 'paws were, and she couldn't help it if she happened to ask Smokescar on the odd solo-hunt to ease their workload.

There's technically two ways to get to the island, and both require stepping into enemy territory. Spiderstar led them counterclockwise, slipping from ThunderClan and into ShadowClan territory to pick up the elders along the way. Weaselface found herself looking up at the pine trees with new eyes. Knowing the land had housed a different Clan was very different compared to meeting someone who'd lived there.

It doesn't matter, she told herself, shaking her head. It's ThunderClan land now. She'd played in the elders' camp as a tot, and she'd spent more than a few nights guarding it as an apprentice. That makes it ThunderClan. Because I'm ThunderClan, and nothing will ever change that.

Plumpetal and Brackenpelt were guarding the elders' camp as they arrived, individually perking up as Spiderstar approached and dipped his head. Beetooth went inside to see who all he could wrangle; and Weaselface, already tired, flopped down on her haunches with a sigh.

"Quarter-moon left?" Plumpetal meowed, wincing in sympathy.

"Closer to a full moon," she admitted. Weaselface attempted a cheery wave of her tail. "Halfway there, amiright?"

Brackenpelt clucked her tongue. "Sweetshine's not looking much better. I'd say she's maybe a half-moon bigger?"

Ice flooded Weaselface's veins. She hadn't seen Sweetshine since their warrior ceremony, but had chalked that up to her grieving. She'd been sitting weird when I talked to her that morning, she realized. I just assumed she was tired! "Is she... pregnant?"

The two mollies exchanged a look, like she was a kit who'd asked a dumb question, before Brackenpelt replied, "Aye, I'd reckon so, unless she's stealing a lot of prey from the pile."

"Poor dear," added Plumpetal. "Losing Antpaw like that. It's hard to raise a litter alone."

Weaselface could barely hear them. Blood pounded in her ears as she gathered herself enough to stand up and stumble through the small group. She almost collided with Nutstripe along the way, mumbling a hasty apology under her breath. Her mind was racing. She was pregnant before I was! And Antpaw- did he know? Of course he did- how could he not?

She'd known, in a distant sort of way, that Sweetshine was padding after Antpaw. Everyone knew that. But that night... he said I was the only one. That bastard. That fucking bastard.

Weaselface bumped her head against Adderpelt's shoulder. She was shaking. "Sweetshine's pregnant," she whispered, mouth dry.

"Is she?" Adderpelt asked, sounding equally surprised. "Good for her."

"With Antpaw's kits!"

The black and white tom paused. Her intertwined their tails. "She's strong. I know she'll be okay."

Good for her! Furious, she hissed at him. "I'm pregnant with his kits too, fluff-for-brains! He cheated on her! With me! I'm the other molly!"

Adderpelt cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, but she doesn't know that. She thinks they're mine."

"That's not the point." Stars, he could be thick-headed sometimes. "How can I just- I can't not tell Sweetshine about this. This is serious!"

"Okay," he answered, just as calm as ever. "Do you want me there?"

Most of Weaselface wanted to say yes. She dug her claws into the dirt and reluctantly shook her head. "That would feel like ganging up on her."

Adderpelt dipped his head. "Alright."

Beetooth returned before Weaselface could respond. With him was Pinethroat, Mossytooth, and Sweetshine. Sure enough, the calico's stomach bulged about as large as her's- she had a smaller litter, if Weaselface had to guess, but judging by the way she waddled she had become accustomed to the size. Sweetshine looked around nervously, caught sight of her, and instantly lit up.

Oh, no, Weaselface thought. No, no, no.

"Weasel! Adderpelt!" she cheerfully greeted, bumping foreheads with the tom. "Dew asked me to tell you that she couldn't make it this time. Squirrelwhisker's labor took a lot out of her."

"Everything a-okay?" Adderpelt asked.

Sweetshine hesitated. "It wasn't great. She had four, but two of them were stillborn. She thinks it's 'cause of all the stress." The calico snuck a look at Weaselface, face pinched. "Makes me kind of nervous, you know?"

"Yeah," said Weaselface, disassociating from the entire situation. "I know."

Weaselface didn't know many cats from other Clans. She'd been embarrassed to approach them as a 'paw, wary they would look at her mangled throat and think ThunderClan fed kits to monsters, and by the time she grew up it was too late to start. She only vaguely recognized the leaders; Briarstar of RiverClan, with her sleek brown and white tabby coat, and Rainstar of WindClan, a dark gray tabby tom. The two leaders always sat on the same exact branch, and usually had very little to say.

Spiderstar hopped on the branch opposite of them, making him the only leader on that half of the tree. "Evening, you two."

"Evening," Rainstar meowed. Briarstar grunted and turned her head away. "All well in ThunderClan?"

"You'll see soon enough."

"So stuffy," Sweetshine commented. Weaselface, having not noticed her coming up beside her, flinched. "You know, I don't know the first thing about those two? I don't even know what their warrior names were."

"It's not like they have a lot of wiggle room," she said, then immediately regretted it. What am I doing? I'm a warrior. That's none of my business.

She cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

Weaselface hesitated. "I mean... they have a lot of reason to be close to each other, but not with us. We have double the land they do."

"Yeah, but it's underutilized. We could have a booming herd of cats, but our numbers are comparatively small. If anything, Briarstar and Rainstar ought to find us laughably weak and take the advantage." Weaselface's jaw dropped. Sweetshine had always been on the quieter side, but she'd just assumed she was shy. The calico caught her look and giggled. "You're not the only one out here who thinks this is uneven, Weasel. Most of us just don't yell about it."

"Oh," she said, feeling a bit foolish. It was comforting to know that she wasn't the only one, at least. Every young warrior probably has thoughts like these. That means they go away, right?

"I suppose we'll start," Rainstar called, and they lapsed into silence. "Rabbits are coming back slowly but surely. A couple of warriors have spotted a new burrow, and a couple have even crawled inside and found decently dry moss." He tilted his chin upwards. "WindClan will thrive again."

"Sounds lovely," Spiderstar meowed, but didn't sound even slightly sincere. "Briarstar?"

"You can go."

"Oh, but I insist."

The brown and white tabby hissed a sigh out from her teeth and sat up straight. "The ice is melting. Now that it's warming up, we've been seeing more land prey like squirrels and voles, which has drawn in a stray fox. And, because of that, I'm afraid Raggedpaw has gone to StarClan."

Below her, Webflower hung her head. Raggedpaw had been her apprentice.

Rainstar blinked at her sympathetically. "Why would the fox attack a medicine cat?"

"Why do foxes do anything?" Briarstar retorted. "It was hungry. Raggedpaw was alone."

Sweetshine shuddered and brushed her pelt against Weaselface's. She knew exactly what she was thinking. That could've been any apprentice. That could've just as easily been her's or mine.

"We lost an apprentice too," Spiderstar butted in, tail flicking. "Antpaw died in an attack your warriors carried out."

Briarstar tensed up, but her voice didn't waver. "I sent that attack, Spiderstar. My warriors only did as they were told."

"Told to kill?"

She ignored that. "ThunderClan scent has been almost halfway through our territory. If I had to guess, I'd think your elders were branching out. It's not like you feed them properly, after all."

"ThunderClan doesn't have to deal with the same sentimentalities you lot do," the black tom snapped. "Our elders can take care of themselves. If they felt they needed something from RiverClan, I can only guess they were missing out on prey. Maybe that fox chased it off."

"The fox is dead." Briarstar flexed her claws, digging them into the wood. "RiverClan takes care of its own, unlike some of us."

Spiderstar brushed that off with a snort. "Some good came out of it, at least. ThunderClan is proud to introduce its new warriors; Adderpelt, Fogfur, Nutstripe, Sweetshine, and Weaselface! Sweetshine and Weaselface are carrying as we speak, and Squirrelwhisker gave birth to two healthy kits- Ashkit and Hootkit."

A weary chorus started up. It was hard to excitedly yell that many names. "Adderpelt! Fogfur! Nutstripe! Sweetshine! Weaselface!"

He smiled smugly at the two leaders, where were bent close to each other, muttering. "ThunderClan is as strong as ever," Spiderstar proclaimed. "And don't you forget it."

Chapter Text

The air quickly began to warm as the days went on. The days were pelted with rain that left the green leaves shiny and bright but ultimately made hunting a disaster, and the nights were hot and endless. Weaselface found herself leaving to hunt with muddy paws and returning with a muddy everything. Not helping matters was the morning sickness she kept getting at odd hours, sending her skittering out of the camp during rainstorm and frost alike to avoid inconveniencing her Clanmates.

Weaselface sighed, whisking her tail around. Tonight was technically her last night on duty, and it was just like Spiderstar to give her guarding duty on the other side of the territory from her nest. I thought it only got this hot in Greenleaf. We're only halfway into Newleaf!

"All right?" asked Birchfoot, her company for the evening.

"Tired," she grunted, shifting her feet under her. "At least now I'll get to lay around my nest all day."

Birchfoot dipped his head. "If I were you, I'd be pretty sick of it all."

"I didn't think it'd happen this young," she replied. "I guess that was kind of mouse-brained of me."

"Look on the bright side. You'll have plenty of energy to keep up with them with. And Adderpelt will be a good dad; he'll keep them nice and happy while you sneak out of camp to scream into the void."

"And hunt."

"Plenty of that too."

The leaves around the entrance rustled as Sweetshine poked her head out. The calico looked like she hadn't slept in days, eyes shining with exhaustion and something desperate. "Weasel? A word, if you don't mind."

Weaselface glanced at Birchfoot, hoping against all hope he'd have a reason for her to stay, but he just waved her on. Mouse-dung! This is exactly why I didn't want this job. She'd been fairly successful at avoiding Sweetshine since the Gathering, and had hoped to keep it up until she kitted. It wasn't a great way of handling the whole mess, but she'd wanted to make sure the ensuing drama wouldn't hurt their chances of being born healthy. "Uh, sure?"

Sweetshine wagged her tail for her to come into the elders' camp. Her head disappeared back inside. Weaselface quickly followed, finding the camp to be practically desolate; even the fresh-kill pile was empty. I hope they're all eating okay. The calico was pacing in a tight circle, tail lashing. "I'm sorry," she said. "I must've freaked you out pretty bad at the Gathering. I didn't mean to be so clingy."

"Oh," said Weaselface, inwardly relieved. That's it? "No, no, I get it. This is a weird time for both of us."

"It's just-" she started, then sighed, shaking her head. "This is so selfish of me to ask, and I'm really sorry."

"Sweetshine?"

"Can I bunk in the ThunderClan nursery with you?"

Weaselface's jaw dropped. "What? Why?" She forced her pelt to lie flat. She doesn't know. She can't know. She would've said something. "I thought you wanted to give birth here."

"I did. I just wanted to get away from ThunderClan for a bit; be alone for a bit. But Squirrelwhisker hasn't taken losing half her litter well." Sweetshine grimaced. "She won't let anyone into the nursery."

"Not even you?"

"Not me, not Dew, not StarClan itself. She'd just as soon rip my throat out."

"Where have you been sleeping, then?"

"The elders' den. But I don't want them stuck up late dealing with fussy kittens, and none of the other dens are suitable." Sweetshine's eyes were wide with worry. "Please, Weasel. It doesn't have to be for the entire time. Just until they're big enough to eat solid foods."

Weaselface felt torn. She didn't know what all to say to Sweetshine, or to think. She didn't even want to imagine how angry the normally kind she-cat would be when she found out about the truth about her. But she couldn't imagine forcing her to deal with a herd of cranky elders on top of a new litter of kits. She stepped forward and nosed her ear. "Of course you can. Stay as long as you need."

"Oh, thank the stars," she gasped, then flinched. "I just wish I could've talked to you about this sooner, because..."

Sweetshine winced again. Weaselface's stomach dropped. "Are you in labor?" she asked, horrified.

She nodded.

"Right now?"

"No," she panted. "I'm putting it off until next week. Yes, right now."

"But you aren't supposed to be giving birth until-"

"I'm early! It happens." Sweetshine legs trembled a little with restless energy. "I'll go tell Dew, and she can walk me."

"Dew doesn't know?"

"I wanted to ask you first!"

A familiar scraggly head shoved its way out of the elders' den. "Dew knows now," Dew reported, trotting up to them with frustration in her eyes. "Can't you morons shut up until morning?"

"I don't think they're gonna wait until morning," Sweetshine rasped.

Dew rolled her eyes. "Damnit. Fine. Get in your nest and-"

"I'm having them in ThunderClan."

She sighed. "It's like you're trying to make this difficult for me. I'll go on ahead and grab some stuff I need, then wait for you there. If you start kitting in the middle of the woods, that's on you."

Weaselface gaped at her. "Mom!"

"If you wanted poise or grace you should've gone to Mintfern," Dew meowed, unrepentant. "It's not my fault ya'll're spineless when it comes to telling that witch no."

She turned and pelted out of the camp. Weaselface watched with poorly contained embarrassment as she did so. Dew really doesn't care about anyone here, does she? A sharp sting hit her heart. She doesn't even care about me.

Sweetshine shuddered against her, and Weaselface stiffened her resolve. Now's not the time to worry about my mommy issues! "C'mon, sweets. I'll walk you."

"Really?" She forced out a purr. "Thank you, Weasel. This means a lot to me."

The walk takes twice as long as it did when Weaselface was a 'paw, still new and easily worn out. Sweetshine stumbled blindly over roots and branches, and had to take breaks to breathe often. Rather than risk getting tangled up in the trees, they decided to go by way of the lake, kicking up sand and mud with every pawstep.

They were forced to halt at the Thunderpath, which was surprisingly populated this time of night. Sweetshine let out a curse and slumped over. "How can two little balls of fur cause me this much trouble?" she asked, tail-tip twitching. "They aren't even here yet!"

"I'm still surprised they're coming so soon. I thought you had another moon-phase?"

She shrugged. "I might have fudged the time a bit. I've been trying not to think about it so much."

Me neither, Weaselface longed to say. It suddenly hit her that not only were they connected, their kits would be too. They're going to be half-siblings, aren't they? Maybe it was best that they had their litters close together after all, so they could raise them in one big group. No worries about awkward bloodlines, that way. "C'mon, we can cross now."

"Goody," Sweetshine grunted.

They had no issues at the halfbridge, and while it felt like it took seasons they eventually wound their way around the Ancient Oak. "Almost there," she told Sweetshine, who was about ready to pass out. "Come on. Flintpoppy made me a nice nest- you can have it."

"But-"

"It's okay. I promise." Weaselface had picked the seaweed out of it long before now, but she still found herself checking it for burrs and thorns and other unpleasantries, and the paranoia made it practically impossible to sleep in it. "It's nice and big, so you'll have plenty of room."

Rejuvenated at the thought of a rest, Sweetshine managed to pick up the pace a little. Guarding the ThunderClan quarry was Smokescar and Dovefrost, both of whom looked like they'd seen a ghost as they neared.

"I thought Dew was joking!" Dovefrost exploded to her paws, coming up on her other side. "Did she really make you walk all this way?"

"I wanted to walk all this way," Sweetshine said. "But now I just want to fall over and die."

Smokescar gently nudged Weaselface away, taking her place. "You go tell Spiderstar what's going on. We've got her."

Weaselface stared after them, a bit betrayed. Give me the hard job! I'm the one who got her here! But this wasn't the time to argue, so she dipped her head and padded over to the leader's den. She nosed her way through the bramble tendrils that covered the cavern, only to find Spiderstar's piercing gaze on her.

"I heard noise," he meowed. Next to him dozed Flintpoppy, who didn't bother to acknowledge her.

"Sweetshine is kitting, sir."

His eyes widened. "In my camp?"

"Squirrelwhisker has become violent, and Sweetshine didn't want to pester the elders. Dew is already waiting on her."

The tom's ears flattened at her name. "Dew isn't a medicine cat. She barely even knows what poppy seeds are. Someone needs to wake up Mintfern."

Weaselface hesitated, tail lashing. "She would prefer Dew, sir."

Spiderstar opened his mouth to argue, only for it to be filled with fur as Flintpoppy lightly smacked him with her tail. "Let it be, dear," she slurred. "You know how Mintfern is with queens. I'd want Dew too."

He huffed but let it go. Spiderstar tilted his head to the side. "What do you make of this, Weaselface? Would you be comfortable with her here?"

"I don't see how that applies," she bit out. No. Yes. If I had those answers, things would be much easier.

"You're having my grandkits," he replied, with a surprisingly gentle tone. "As far as I'm concerned, the nursery is yours right now. If you don't want her there, she can go give birth in the woods."

How is that fair? Conflicting emotions bubbled up. Part of her wanted to thank him for his loyalty to her and her future kits. Most of her hated the favoritism, having been on the bad end of it most of her life. Weaselface dug her claws into the dirt. "I think it'd be good, sir," she grit out. "It'd give the kits playmates."

Spiderstar nodded. "Yes, that's true. Kits need playmates." Seeming soothed, he yawned, curling back up against his mate. "Wake me if something bad happens. I'll come greet the kits later."

"Yes, sir," she meowed, heavy and hollow. Weaselface left as quickly as she'd entered. The quarry was empty this time of night, though it wouldn't be long before Beetooth woke the first patrols. She felt very, very alone.

"She just plopped into the nest!" Adderpelt grumbled, looking very disheveled. "I was sleeping in it!"

Weaselface winced as a yowl wavered across the clearing. "I told her she could."

"Ugh, fine." He stood and stalked past her. "I'm going hunting."

"Get enough for two," she called after him. Adderpelt waved his tail to show he'd heard.

The brown she-cat hesitated at the entrance to the nursery. I should give Sweetshine some privacy, right? But she seemed really desperate to make a connection with me about this. Weaselface remembered her various comments before and during the Gathering. She's probably terrified. She needs a friend. But am I really that friend?

Another shriek sealed the deal. It wasn't like I was going to sleep, anyway. Weaselface pushed inside. In her nest was the calico, who was writhing painfully while Dew muttered and pressed on various spots on her stomach. Weaselface had to admit, Spiderstar had a point; none of this was looking professional. "Can I help?"

Dew gestured to a small bundle by Sweetshine's stomach. "One's out already. Clean it."

Weaselface crouched down, taking the newly born kitten in her teeth to move it out of Dew's way. It was a silver and white tabby, and it was soaked and shivering. Sweetshine's eyes shot open as the breeze hit her stomach. She lifted her head, saw the kitten with her, gradually being groomed by an inexperienced tongue, and relaxed.

"And the second," Dew announced. "A she-kit and a tom. Congrats. I hate all of you, and I'm going to go to bed now."

Sweetshine took the second one. It was all black, and Weaselface was pretty sure it was the tom. She cleaned it slowly and thoroughly before setting him by her stomach. Weaselface awkwardly pushed the silver and white tabby over, then went about clearing the soiled moss away. Thankfully, she had given birth on the edge of the nest, leaving most of it free for her to rest.

"No black and whites," Weaselface noted, inwardly relieved. She figured her chances of having kits that looked like Antpaw were about the same as Sweetshine's. "Do you have names picked out?"

Sweetshine jerked, having almost fallen asleep sitting up. "Huh? Right, right. Names." She touched the tip of her nose to the silver and white tabby. "This one can be Larkkit." She repeated the motion on the black tom. "And this is gonna be Honeykit."

"Those are good names," she said lamely, not sure what the exact protocol was here.

Sweetshine patted the moss beside her. "Come on up. You gotta be sleepy."

"Not nearly as sleepy as you."

She giggled drunkenly as Weaselface complied. She could feel Larkkit and Honeykit squirming between them. "Thank you, Weasel. For everything."

Weaselface felt a flare of guilt. She's so nice. How could I wish her away? "It's okay, sweets. Anyone would've done the same."

"Mmm, maybe." Sweetshine snuggled in closer, pressing her muzzle to Weaselface's shoulder. "I can only imagine what you've heard. What you must think. But- it's not like that, Weasel. I promise."

"Now you're just babbling," she accused gently. "Take a nap. You've earned it."

Sweetshine sighed into her fur. "Alright. But when I'm up we have to talk, okay?" Her voice dropped off a bit at the end; tired as she was, Sweetshine was already gone. "It's... important..."

"Okay," Weaselface meowed, absolutely terrified. Oh, fox-dung, she totally knows.

Sweetshine snored into her shoulder while Weaselface forced herself not to disassociate, thinking over her options. Sweetshine must not blame her for any of this- she wouldn't have been so kind to her otherwise. Maybe she knew that she wasn't aware they had paired up? Maybe she even wanted to share a nest together, raising their litters as the siblings they actually were.

But the idea of telling the Clan was equally daunting. They'd never accept me. I'd always be the other molly. And they'd be right. She didn't dare try to picture the rage Spiderstar would unleash upon finding out the truth. I can't. It's too risky. He almost ripped my throat out because Mudcloud left the camp at night to meet with someone. I did the exact same thing. Dew would be so ashamed to know she'd gotten in over her head.

Then, like weak dawn light, it slowly sank in what she needed to do.

I have to leave ThunderClan.

Chapter Text

It took time to wriggle out from under Sweetshine and gently situate her head so she would be comfortable on the nest, enough so that when she finished the sun had begun to peek over the horizon. Larkkit and Honeykit were sleeping now, pressed to their mother's stomach with their little heads bent almost over themselves. It made Weaselface's heart ache to look at them. They're so little!

Weaselface bent down to gently nose both their heads. "You be good for your mother, now."

Slipping out of the nursery, Weaselface snuck one last look at the new family, only to almost smack nose-first into Spiderstar. The black tom laughed. "This is starting to become a running gag," he meowed, eyes twinkling. "How'd it go?"

She forced herself to straighten. Her heart thundered in her chest. If he knew my plan, there's no telling what he'd do to me. "Two kits, sir. Their names are Larkkit and Honeykit."

"Nice." He dipped his head. "Well, I was planning on greeting them, but I'll wait for the snoring to dry out first. Are you going hunting?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, relieved for the excuse. "I thought I'd get Sweetshine something to celebrate."

"How kind. Nab me a crow while you're at it, won't you?"

Weaselface nodded and made a beeline for the entrance to the camp. The air was humid and sticky from the rain, but she pressed on regardless, picking her way through the trees. The forest itched with potential prey, and it took almost all of her self-control not to catch herself something. If I'm leaving, I'm not a warrior anymore. I can't hunt in Clan territory. Her stomach gurgled in protest.

Soon, a couple of bumpy hills overtook the horizon, and Weaselface veered off to the side. The last thing she wanted to do was climb. I just need to find an old Twolegplace. Something empty, and decently sheltered. That will be good enough until the kits can walk. The thought of raising her litter as a bunch of loners pressed in on her like a herd of foxes. She knew loners could be decent cats, but it would be much harder to keep them safe that way.

The foliage nearby began to rustle. Panic immediately filled Weaselface, driving her into a log. She could just barely squeeze herself inside.

"Huh," meowed what sounded like Plumpetal. "I could've sworn I smelled-"

Fogfur stomped up beside her. "What are you doing, fluff-for-brains?"

"I smelled a cat!" Plumpetal argued. "It kind of smelled like Weasel."

The gray tabby snorted. "This far from camp? Yeah, right."

"She is due any day now," added Birchfoot. "Come on. Let's head back. We've got more than enough fresh-kill for the pile."

Weaselface strained her ears to listen. The hunting patrol's pawsteps slowly but surely faded out. That was too close! She wriggled her way out and kept moving. By Sunhigh, she had managed to make it into the long stripe of land WindClan had. The peat squished under her weight as she crept along the grass, eyes trained on even the slightest hint of movement.

Deciding to get as far from the camp as possible, Weaselface headed north. Her limbs ached, and she was absolutely exhausted by the time she got to a trail that winded up the rocks. Weaselface tasted the air, but found it almost impossible to know for sure if she was still in WindClan or not. I can't keep this up. I just can't. The queen ducked under a bush and curled up into a ball. She was too large for her tail to cover her nose. Just a five minute nap, she swore.

When Weaselface woke, night had fallen. Just my luck! She thought, but was glad no patrols had come upon her. She still wasn't sure where WindClan ended, exactly, but she doubted the open-range Clan would keep the winding pathway in their scent lines, and decided to follow that. She hauled herself up the final incline.

Before Weaselface lay a small stone hollow, glistening with leftover rainwater. From the left a short waterfall trickled into an almost perfectly circular pool. The water was so clear the moon seemed to be laying in it.

Is this… what I think it is? The fur along Weaselface's spine rose as she made out the pawprints etched in the path before her. It is! This is the Moonpool! She'd never seen the place before, but she'd heard stories of the place where medicine cats gathered.

The cool stone dug daggers in Weaselface's pawpads as she warily padded closer, sniffing. The water smelled like cold air. Not wanting to anger StarClan, she carefully went around, looking for a place to leave the Moonpool. There was none. Just the way she'd entered. There's gotta be some way around this place, right? The Moonpool can't be the end of the whole world!

"You're here."

Weaselface flinched and whirled around. Brackenstar sat by the water, smiling. The waterfall was stark against his ghostly pelt.

"I'm sorry," she rasped, eyes wide. "I didn't mean to, I promise."

But Brackenstar shook his head. "I wanted you to come. Your instincts guided you here tonight, just as mine did so many seasons ago." The golden tabby gestured to the water with his paw. "Are you thirsty?"

Weaselface hesitated. She was very, very thirsty. "I shouldn't," she said, uneasy. "This is for medicine cats only."

"Not just medicine cats," he replied. His amber eyes burned into her fur like fire. "Don't fret, Weaselface. You won't be the first or last loner to drink from this place. You're just lucky enough to know its context."

Tail flicking nervously, Weaselface had to admit he had a point. This place was holy to Clan cats, but there was a lot more cats in this world than just them, and it was only logical rogues and loners and kittypets had seen the Moonpool. Some probably even drank from it. "Will I... have dreams?"

Brackenstar's tail whisked across the stone. "Only one way to find out."

I guess I'll have to risk it, then. The brown molly carefully got closer. With no prey in her stomach, it felt like there was nothing but air inside her fur, and that made her dizzy. Water wouldn't fill that void, but it would be better than nothing. Brackenstar watched without moving as she sniffed at the water again. Her claws dug into the stone ledge.

"Remember what I told you," he rumbled.

The stone under her paw crumbled. Weaselface instinctively twisted onto her back to avoid her stomach taking the blow. Her head hit the water with a sloshing, slapping sound. The rest of her slipped in after. No! Weaselface's heart ran faster than a hare's as she tried desperately to flip herself around. Her lungs were burning. I can't swim!

Darkness went over the corners of her eyes like frost on grass. Struggling seemed useless now. Even as her back touched the relatively shallow bottom, she had no energy to push off. Paws grabbed her and dragged her into the black.

Whispering. Various voices were murmuring to each other. Weaselface's pelt was wet, but her body felt warm. She cracked her eyes open and find herself staring at a pine tree. I'm... safe?

"Shh!" said one of the voices, and they all went silent.

Weaselface sat up. Her muscles and joints creaked in protest as she did so. She shook her fur dry before looking around. Cats were all around her, but none of them had visages or pelts. They were the night, shaped in the form of cats. Some of them were small, some of them were large, and some were frail, but they were all made of the darkness, and they were all looking at her.

One stepped forward. It was almost exactly her size. "Hello," it said, but nothing mouth-like moved. The words seemed to thrum from their very being. "Don't be afraid. We cannot hurt you."

"Where am I? What are you?" Weaselface looked nervously around, trying to decide who she should be most concerned by. "Am I... dead?"

"You are Lost," they said. "We are The Shadows."

"The Shadows," the rest repeated.

"The Shadows?" Weaselface stared at the main one. "Of what?"

The Shadow cocked its head to the side. "We are The Shadows of our Clan. We are what is left."

It clicked into place. Weaselface felt herself relax slightly. "ShadowClan?"

It nodded.

"So you're StarClan cats?"

The Shadows seemed to thrum a moment, indecisive before the leader answered. "We were warriors, once. We were cats. We were afraid." They lowered their head. "And now we are here. We are Lost."

"I'm feeling a bit lost myself." Weaselface touched the bump of her stomach. "I didn't mean to bother you. If you can tell me how to get out of here, I'll be happy to give you peace."

The leader stared at her a long time, before turning to the nearest cat. It was short and broad. "Greet her," they instructed.

The short cat nodded and padded up to her, ducking his head politely. "Patience," it said, and brushed her nose. Weaselface felt something unending flow through her at the touch. She remembered kittens rolling through a scruffy pelt, battered with scars. She remembered long nights and empty bellies. She remembered being someone she didn't know.

"Is that... your name?" Weaselface asked eventually. "Patience?"

"If you'd like it to be," Patience said. "The Shadows don't have names."

"The Shadows," echoed the group again, and another stepped forward. This one was kit-sized.

"Bravery!" it chirped. Weaselface bumped noses with him and immediately felt a shock of fear. Being so small again, all alone in the nursery, as foreign forces rushed in. Bushing out her tiny pelt and yowling, "Leave my momma alone!" The fox didn't care.

Weaselface licked Bravery between the ears. "You were amazing, little one."

They ducked their head shyly and went to hide behind Patience.

The third was an elder, or close to it. It stopped halfway, making Weaselface come to them. She hoped that was okay with their strange greeting ritual. "Compromise." This was more vague concepts and emotions than a story, and she blinked blankly at the Shadow as it moved away. The same went for the fourth, who said their name was Consequence.

An apprentice eagerly brushed noses with Weaselface. Something fierce and powerful razed through her like fire. Blood was everywhere as she faced down something terrible. The blood was her's. The terrible thing went down with her. The Shadow curtseyed and said, "Justice."

The leader finally came forward, bowing their neck to reveal another kit. It scrambled closer. "Me! Pick me!" it exclaimed, as she sheepishly met it. A tight line of warriors around her little body. The reek of Greencough. StarClan, telling her it was time to go. The kit blinked its eyes sockets at her in a friendly manner. "I'm Loyalty."

"Nice to meet you, Loyalty," she meowed. Weaselface dipped her head to the last. "It's your turn now, isn't it?"

It nodded and pressed their foreheads together, angling their nose away from her. "Love," they whispered, and made contact. Fire and feathers in her stomach. A tiny apprentice to raise. The press of a golden tabby pelt.

Weaselface blinked and they were gone. She was sitting alone again, in ThunderClan's training hollow. The shriek of birds reminded her just how hungry she was; but, again, it wasn't happening. She sighed with self-pity.

"You always were a wet ball of moss, Weasel."

No, thought Weaselface, it can't be. She turned and saw Antpaw, his black and white pelt shiny and bright. That old smirk was on his muzzle.

"Hey," he said.

She was on him before she could blink, claws digging into his scruff. Antpaw stared up at her, amused, as she hissed. "You little badger-heart! You never told me about Sweetshine! What kind of cat do you think you are, huh? I oughta kill you right now!"

"I think I'm a dead one," Antpaw chuckled. "So good luck with that."

"You tricked me!"

"We had an understanding. We were just two friends having fun. Is that so wrong?"

"You cheated on Sweetshine! Of course it's wrong!"

Antpaw's eyes were glittering. "You're assuming a lot of me, Weasel."

Weaselface forced herself to take a deep breath, removing herself from his sternum. "You told her, then," she deduced.

"Told her?" he snorted, sitting up. "I asked her, dummy. If you'd spent two seconds thinking about it you'd have realized I'm not that kind of tom."

"In my defense, you are a feather-brain."

Antpaw's whiskers quivered, as if he was in on a great joke. "Do you really think this is a greeting ceremony?"

"Of course it is," Weaselface meowed. "What else would it be? I'm no medicine cat."

"Proof that you're the feather-brain." He wound around her with a fond glint to his eyes. "Now, you didn't hear this from me, but I'm here to give a little gift." Antpaw bumped their noses together. "Fun."

Flashes again. This one was full of butterflies. Running in circles to catch your tail. Knocking a stern brown molly out of her rhythm. Hiding fresh-kill in your mentor's nest. And, finally, of battle; of gleefully running, dancing, making your opponents look like fools.

But there she is- the brown molly. She's down. And you would never, ever wish her harm, even if she eats the warrior code for breakfast. You shove her away and then there's claws in your throat, and blood going down your chest, and you're not having fun anymore.

"You shouldn't have done that," Weaselface whispered. Her voice sounded like gravel.

Antpaw pulled away with a sheepish smile. "No regrets, amiright?"

"You're leaving again, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "Gotta join the crowd. We're having a big event tonight."

It took all of Weaselface's power to not wail and cling to him. She never knew just how much she missed Antpaw until this very second, hearing his silly mew all over again. "Do you... want me to send a message? To Sweetshine."

"Aw, Weasel," he meowed, laughing. "I would, but you won't be able to talk about any of this."

Antpaw vanished just as the reek of pines hit her all over again. Weaselface sensed Brackenstar behind her, smiling indulgently. "Sorry about all this confusion, dear. It'll all become clear soon."

Weaselface stared at his pelt. "One of The Shadows knew you."

He scowled. "Ignore those mouse-hearts."

"They seemed pretty kind to me."

"Of course they did! They give you all the nice memories. Let me show you the truth." The tabby pressed his nose to hers, scrunching up his face. "Leadership, poise, and respect."

These memories were the foggiest of all. There was a lot of fighting, and blood, and the bright moon on Brackenstar's pelt. The Shadows lined up, actual cats now- claws digging into his fur, over and over. One gently held the kittens' paws so they struck.

Weaselface felt numb as he stepped back. They killed him. Over and over again. Weren't they his Clanmates? "Why are you showing me this?"

"Can't hunt without all your senses. You needed to know to move on." Cats were appearing now, endless numbers of starry warriors and leaders and kits. They swarmed around them in a mass of fur. "I can't tell you everything tonight, Weaselface; but once things settle down, spend the night in the moss you inherited, and all will become clear."

"What?" Alarmed, Weaselface tried to snag his ear, only for him to move away. "Why not?"

"You have to wake up. It's time to fight the waves." Brackenstar turned and gestured to her with her tail. "Cats of StarClan, I present to you the new leader of ShadowClan!"

What?

The chant that came next made the ground shake under her paws.

"Weaselstar! Weaselstar! Weaselstar!"

Chapter Text

By the time Weaselface returned to ThunderClan, she had mostly pushed the incident out of her mind. It was no easy feat; The Shadows seemed to be following her, whispering congratulations in her ear as she snatched up a vole and a crow. Her mind swirled with indecision as she met the morning hunting patrol with a sheepish flick of the tail, showing off the fresh-kill.

Was Brackenstar pulling a prank on me? She wondered, following them back to camp. It wasn't like she knew the ghostly tom very well. Maybe he was making a mockery of her wish to flee. Stalling for time, until the inevitable happened. Rebuilding ShadowClan didn't even make sense- ThunderClan benefitted greatly from the larger territory; and, as a ThunderClan warrior, how could she want anything less for her Clanmates? Where would I even start?

Weaselface's stomach spasmed, and she forgot all about her strange dreams, gasping for air.

"All right?" asked Ratpaw, who had been tasked to walk alongside her with the vole.

She swallowed and nodded. Not right now. You can do this later, you hear me? Stars, not even here yet and you're already ignoring me. "Just a bit worried."

The black tom shifted closer, brushing their pelts. "Aww, don't worry about that. Spiderstar isn't that harsh with the night ban anymore. He's caught me and Bumblepaw night hunting loads of times."

"Night roaming is why he did this to me, you'll remember." She gave her throat a pointed lick.

"Yeah, but that's why he stopped."

Spiderstar, for all his bravado, had honestly been shaken the night he'd attacked a kit, regardless of his actual intentions. "I guess."

There was another spasm, not as intense as the last, but Ratpaw flinched and stared at her. "Wait, are you-"

Weaselface cut him off. "Go tell Adderpelt for me, please. I need to talk to Spiderstar."

He reluctantly dipped his head and hared away. It took a bit of effort to haul herself and the prey into the leader's den, enough so to catch the tom's attention before she'd even slipped inside. Spiderstar watched intently as she set the bird in front of him, having clearly stopped mid-sentence with Beetooth.

"Got your crow, sir."

Spiderstar set a paw on top of it. "Where did you go?"

Weaselface grimaced with pain. "I feel asleep."

He blinked at her. "What?"

"I was up all night, sir, with Sweetshine. I got sluggish while I was hunting, and fell asleep under a bush. I slept the whole night through." She gave her chest a few embarrassed licks for good measure. It was mostly true. "I'm really sorry, Spiderstar."

"Mudcloud snuck out," he said tightly. "The night he died."

"I know, sir."

"I don't want to think betrayal runs in your veins, Weaselface, but how can I believe it when you pull a stunt like this?"

Weaselface shuffled her paws. Somehow, she didn't think telling him she'd fallen into the Moonpool and dreamed of nameless spirits would be a good defense. "I got a big head, sir. I thought I could do it all. I'm sorry."

Spiderstar glared at her a long moment, then twitched his ear. "What do you think, Beetooth?"

She tensed. Beetooth was notoriously harsher about the night rule.

"I think it says a lot that she came back," he replied calmly. "Weaselface could be far, far away by now, but she isn't. She came back, and she's not ignoring her mistake. Most cats aren't brave enough to do that."

Brave, my tail. Where else would I go?

"So you think she shouldn't be punished?" Spiderstar pressed.

Beetooth shook his head. "Never said that. But I think that it can wait until she's finished with her labor."

Spiderstar's head almost snapped off his shoulders. His eyes bugged out of their sockets. "You're in labor?" he squeaked. "Why didn't you say something?"

Weaselface smiled ruefully. "I didn't want to make excuses, sir."

"Dung, dung, dung!" He began to pace. "Oh man, oh man. What should we do?"

"I'd suggest letting her lay down," Beetooth meowed, sounding remarkably indulgent. "I'll go get Mintfern."

She hesitated. "Can't I just have-"

Spiderstar interrupted her, fire in his eyes. "No. No Dew. You're going to have a proper medicine cat delivery. My grandkits deserve better than that old hag."

"That old hag is my mother, sir."

He wasn't paying her any mind now, shoving her out the door with his muzzle. Spiderstar practically drug her to the nursery, spitting mild curses under his breath as he felt her stomach twitch against his. Sweetshine and Adderpelt were waiting inside, heads bent close together. Larkkit and Honeykit had yet to open their eyes, but she could sense confusion in their little wiggles as Weaselface settled onto the nest beside the calico.

Adderpelt licked her cheek. "What do you want me to do?"

"Leave," she meowed. "I'd really rather not have a bunch of cats staring at me while I pop out kittens."

He immediately backed away. "I'll go get you some moss. Lots of moss! More moss than you've ever seen!"

Sweetshine inched a little closer, pointedly putting her tail around Larkkit and Honeykit so they couldn't 'see' anything. "I can't really leave the den, but I can go to the other side if you want."

"No, no, that's okay." Weaselface curled her muzzle in Sweetshine's scruff. It was comforting. "I- I need to talk to you. About Antpaw."

Her eyes grew dim and somber. "Oh, Weasel, you don't have to say it. I know."

"He never told me," she admitted. "That you were mates."

"He didn't? Stars, he was a mouse-brain." Sweetshine carefully wrapped a paw around one of her own, firm. "I'm sorry he wasn't honest to you. He should've been. I thought you knew, and we were all in this together. " She scoffed at herself. "I guess I should've realized when you started avoiding me."

"I was a mouse-heart. I should've-"

"No. You weren't. If anyone was, it was Antpaw. He was dishonest, and it caused you a lot of pain. I'm really sorry about that, Weasel."

Weaselface look at Sweetshine with a lopsided grin. "Can we? Still be in it together, I mean?" She winced as a whole new spasm hit her. "I'd really like having as many friends helping me raise these kits as possible."

"Of course!" she exclaimed, bumping noses with her. "They'll be just as much mine as Larkkit and Honeykit will be yours," Sweetshine promised, and a heavy weight in Weaselface's chest began to unravel.

"Aww, come'on, just a single poppy seed? You've already had two of them."

Weaselface hissed at Mintfern. "Don't you dare feed them poppy! It could kill them!"

"Maybe," she agreed, whiskers twitching. "But think of how great it'd be, to know for certain how much a kit could or couldn't take? It'd help a lot of future patients."

"No!"

"Fine. A juniper berry, then? It won't even have any affect on them."

Sweetshine glared daggers at the molly. "Maybe you should leave, Mintfern. I think I've got this under control."

The black and white medicine cat sighed, rolling her eyes. "Ya'll are too sensitive, I swear. Think of the data!"

"Mintfern," she insisted.

"Ugh, fine." Mintfern nipped the last sack. "Here. Three daughters. No new information. I hope you're happy."

Happy is an odd way of describing 'feeling like fox-food under a monster's paw'.

Weaselface waited until Mintfern had left to sluggishly lift her head and blink at the bundles against her stomach. It hadn't been an overly long labor- actually, it'd been rather short- but she was exhausted nonetheless. Suckling against her were three babies, none of which bore Antpaw's pelt. The one on the far left was all black, the one in the middle was a brown and white tabby, and the one on the right was black with white paws and a little white spot on her chest.

In the time it took for her to focus on the trio, Adderpelt was cautiously laying down beside her, leaning against her back. There was a bright gleam in his eyes as he leaned in close. "Little paws," he whispered, amazed. She could just barely make out Sweetshine giggling in the background.

"Little paws," Weaselface echoed, wincing. "Big shoulders."

Adderpelt stared at them a couple heartbeats longer, as if making absolutely certain they were real, then nervously met her eye. "Can I name one?"

She gestured to them with her paw. "I'm not gonna name them all myself."

"I always liked Feather for a name," he explained, then hesitantly nosed the all black molly. "Can she be Featherkit? Is- is that okay?"

"Featherkit is a nice name." Weaselface considered the remaining two. Well, I always liked tree names. She tapped the tip of her tail onto the top of the brown and white tabby. "How does Elmkit sound?"

"Beautiful. Perfect. Outstanding."

She snorted, then finally looked to the last one. Elmkit was the most creative she got when she was tired. "How about Spottedkit?"

Adderpelt nodded along. "It's surprisingly underused."

Weaselface's jaws split into a yawn. She let the exhaustion sink into her bones, tongue peeking out just a second, then laid her head down beside Featherkit. "I'm going to take a nap now."

"What about dad?"

"Spiderstar can wait. Or he can be quiet and come in while I'm sleeping. That's up to him."

Adderpelt looked out into the clearing a moment, then shrugged and settled in as well, gently intertwining their tails. For that alone, Weaselface knew she could never leave this behind. She could never leave her friends, or this nest, or this Clan, and that would just have to be enough for StarClan, prank or not.

Chapter Text

Quiet birdsong filled Weaselface's ears as she lounged by a steam. The sun was bright and warm on her pelt, making her a bit drowsy. She strained her neck to get at some water, but found it just out of reach. Huffing, she sat up, feeling her joints creak in protest. She took a sip and all the aches and pains washed away under the cool trickle in her throat. She watched, out of the corner of her eye, as a familiar tabby pelt settled in next to her.

"It's been a bit," meowed Brackenstar.

"It's been two weeks," she corrected absentmindedly. The longest days of my life. But also the happiest.

"You haven't been sleeping as much."

"Having kits will do that."

Brackenstar sighed, as if talking about that was tedious in and of itself. "Weaselstar-"

"Face. Weaselface. I prefer Weasel." She dug her claws into the dirt. "I can understand why you did what you did. You must really want ShadowClan to return."

"More than anything," he agreed.

"But I'm a ThunderClan cat. And even if I wasn't, I could never leave my friends."

Brackenstar tilted his head to the side. "Who said you had to?"

Weaselface's tail lashed. "Now you're just being mouse-brained. Clans don't live together." She raised her chin. "I'm sick of StarClan giving me cryptic answers to unasked questions."

"I'll tell you more soon," he responded. "When you sleep in the moss you've been given."

"I sleep in that nest every night."

Brackenstar stared at her a long moment. Weaselface stared back. He huffed out another heavy sigh. "Stars, you're terrible at this. Thank TigerClan you didn't become a medicine cat. The leader's den, dummy! Spend the night in ShadowClan's leader den."

The molly hesitated. She was a little ashamed that hadn't occurred to her, but why would it? The elder's camp only used two dens. "I can't just leave my kits to sleep in a dusty old heap! It's your den anyways."

"Oh, Weasel," he said, then did an awkward laugh. "It's yours now."

A warm little weight landed on Weaselface's muzzle, jerking her awake with an ungainly snort. "Wassat?"

"I told you climbing on her would be a bad idea," said Sweetshine, giggling. "You woke up the beast!"

Weaselface felt herself relax as the familiar den flooded her senses. I'm getting really sick of weird dreams in weird places. She tucked her paws under her but kept her head down so the kitten wouldn't fall. "WHO DARES?" she boomed. The bundle squealed and wriggled, but it was no match for a gentle rolling of her muzzle, sending it onto her feet. Featherkit blinked up at her with glee. "Fresh kit! A great snack to start the day!"

"Noooooo," Featherkit cried, pushing her head away with her paws. Weaselface easily ducked under them and blew a raspberry on her tummy. "Mama, stop! I'm not tasty!"

There was a flash of black fur out of the corner of her eye, and then Honeykit had successfully buried his little needle teeth in her side. "I got you! I defeated the beast!"

Weaselface scoffed, feeling a strange warmth in her chest. Pride? "You little scoundrels! You ganged up on me!"

"We got you, mama!" Featherkit exclaimed, rolling onto her wobbly paws. "No kits for you!"

She sighed and set her chin on her paws. "Oh, if I must. I guess I could munch on some fresh-kill instead."

There was a cold nose on her as Elmkit eagerly crawled to the point of impact, sniffing. "You didn't even break skin. You've got a wimpy bite, Honeykit!"

"Do no!" he cried.

"Do too!"

Weaselface wrenched her gaze away to meet Sweetshine's. The calico was practically glowing in the morning sunlight. "They didn't wake you, did they?"

"Nope! Well, they did, but not quite as rudely as they did you."

"Mama," broke in a quiet voice, startling her. Spottedkit had proven to be the most reserved of the two litters thus far; she wasn't really into the kind of roughhousing her siblings were warming up to, and she rarely left the nest. She seemed content to watch. "Larkkit got a prickly-bit in her paw."

Sweetshine's jaw dropped. Larkkit had been sitting next to her, and had said no such thing. "Larkkit! Why didn't you say something?"

Larkkit looked embarrassed. "Aw, it's alright, mama. It's like having an extra claw! In my foot. It's not a good claw."

Weaselface patted the spot on the moss in front of her. "Let me get it. My underbite is really good at hooking thorns."

The silver and white tabby reluctantly scrambled over to her side of the nest. Spottedkit leaned in curiously as Larkkit displayed her paw. Sure enough, there was a decent-sized thorn stuck in the pad. "What're you gonna do?" she asked.

"Lick it until it comes closer to the skin," she meowed. "Then I'm gonna pull it out."

Larkkit wilted. "Is it gonna hurt?"

"It'll sting, but not as bad as having a prickly-bit in your foot forever."

Spottedkit shoved between them, eyes bright. "Can I do it? My mouth is more her-size."

Weaselface hesitated, glancing at Sweetshine. The calico nodded. "Alright. But be very careful."

Larkkit seemed relieved to have someone around her size to help her as Spottedkit settled in in front of her paw. She instantly started licking, cleaning some grit from between her toes while she was there, before finally closing her teeth in on the thorn. She gave a quick yank and it was out.

"I did it," she proclaimed, with a sort of calm satisfaction. Spottedkit spat the thorn out.

Larkkit stared at her paw in wonder. "It didn't hurt at all!"

"That's a good thing," Weaselface said.

Elmkit paused her tussle with Honeykit to laugh. "You've gotta wimpy bite too, Spottedkit!"

Spottedkit shrugged, looking quite pleased. "It's a smart wimpy bite."

Adderpelt pushed his nose through the fronds at the entrance of the nursery, a decently sized rabbit clutched in his maw. "I brought dinner!"

Weaselface perked up at the mention of food, but not nearly as much as the kittens perked up at the warriors' arrival. Elmkit rocketed off her side to meet the tom, tiny twig tail stuck straight in the air. Honeykit and Featherkit practically fell over themselves, creating a whirlwind of fluffy black fur. Larkkit was bouncing with glee, her earlier brush-in with the thorn all but forgotten. Spottedkit came last, sniffing the fur on the fresh-kill curiously.

"Oh, stars," said Sweetshine. "Here it comes. Mushy-brain."

Adderpelt carefully set the prey to the side before promptly collapsing onto the floor. Kittens climbed on him as he cackled. "Oh, I missed you all so much! Patrol was sooooo boring."

"You have it so rough," Weaselface said teasingly, collecting the rabbit. She set it between herself and Sweetshine before digging in.

"I do!" he agreed, Larkkit dangling from his ear with her teeth. "But not as bad as you're gonna have it. Dad says you're on dawn and dusk patrols for a moon now that the kits can move around a bit."

She groaned, though it was mostly just for show. I've missed being out and about, but does it have to be so early and so late? "Let me guess; my punishment?"

"Pretty much."

Elmkit's eye grew wide with glee. "Mama got in trouble!"

"Sleeping in a bush will do that," she replied, feeling a bit bad about lying to her daughter.

"On the bright side, you got off pretty easily," Sweetshine meowed around a mouthful. "I've got plenty of milk to spare, so no worries if the kids get hungry while you're gone, and I'm sure Adderpelt won't mind babysitting."

Weaselface blinked at her gratefully. Having five kittens running around had been hectic, but Sweetshine's never-ebbing optimism had been a breath of fresh air during her moments of frustration.

"Babysitting?" he echoed, sounding offended. "I am parenting, thank you very much."

Honeykit buried his face in Adderpelt's scruff. "More time with dad!"

Adderpelt looked like he'd been hit with a monster. He stared awkwardly at Sweetshine. "Um?"

Sweetshine laughed. "Oh, my. A family man, caring for my babies as well as his own. Careful, Adderpelt; I'm gettin' the vapors."

He broke out into a smile, pulling Honeykit and Larkkit closer. "More love for me," he decided, and began to groom them.

Adderpelt slept in the nursery most nights, and now that she needed to be woken for dawn patrol he had extra reason to do so, giving her a gentle jabbing so Beetooth wouldn't storm in and wake the kittens. Weaselface moaned into her moss and sat up, running a paw over her face. "Five more moons," she whined. She turned her head slightly and caught a pair of green eyes looking up at her. "Spottedkit?"

Spottedkit wriggled a little. "Hi, mama," she whispered.

"Why are you up? Are you hungry?"

She shrugged. "I was listening. Lots of cats come into camp and talk at night, especially last night."

Weaselface frowned. "No one's allowed out at night."

Adderpelt cracked an eyelid. "Last night was the half-moon," he commented.

"A lot of them were talking about you, mama," Spottedkit went on, undeterred. "A lot of them were mad. They said you brought shadows into camp. What's that mean, mama?"

Weaselface felt herself begin to tense. The Shadows hadn't been in her imagination, then. Spirits of another Clan don't blend into the territory as well. They must feel out of place here. "I... don't know, Spottedkit. The night cats don't know what they're talking about."

She shrugged again and closed her eyes. "Okay, mama. G'night."

A warm nose brushed against the base of her scruff. "Weasel," Adderpelt meowed. It wasn't an accusation or even a question. Just her name.

"It's complicated," she said. "I've been having a lot of weird dreams. And... something happened. The night I was gone."

"You never told me."

"I didn't want to. I still don't. Saying it out loud makes it... real."

Adderpelt nuzzled into her fur for a moment. She could sense he was pushing down feelings of hurt. "You have to get to patrol. Let's... we can work this out when you get back. Sound good?"

"Alright," she meowed, and left, and had no intentions of explaining.

Chapter Text

The moon dragged on. Being on Spiderstar's bad list meant caring for the elder's camp, an undertaking Weaselface had carried most of her life anyway, and by the time she managed to drag herself home from hunting and patrolling (if she wasn't the night guard), the kittens were all getting ready for bed. Weaselface missed them like a thorn in her paw, and would spend as much time as she could cleaning them and prepping them for sleep. It wasn't nearly enough, but it was a start.

During this while, Weaselface had no dreams of StarClan. She didn't have any moments where she glanced over her shoulder, or thought she heard a Shadow whispering in her ear. Brackenstar had decided it was her time to choose, and left her high and dry. It was quiet. Her mind was quiet. It perturbed her.

"In my day, cats got killed for sneaking outta camp," Pinethroat rasped as she set a vole at her paws. The elders had taken to their usual afternoon sunbathing. "Spiderstar's gotten soft."

Mossytooth dipped his head in a friendly manner as she nudged a mouse to him. "Aw, it ain't so bad. Haven't been this well-fed since I could hunt for myself."

Weaselface dug her claws into the ground. Elders shouldn't have to risk starving to death just so they can rest. The conviction swelled in her chest, but she didn't dare voice any of it out loud. Mouthy warriors didn't get to visit their kits. "With riveting dialogue like this, I can promise you I'm being punished just fine."

The gray and white tom wheezed out a laugh. "There's Dew's tongue! You sound more like 'er every day."

Pinethroat hesitated. "Not to say I don't like ya, Weasel. You were a perky kid. But lots of cats have died to keep ThunderClan strong. Having Spiderstar's grandkits shouldn't make you above the law."

"God, why are you all like this?" Dew meowed. "Cats shouldn't be dying in the first place over stupid shit. Now you're mad because cats aren't dying for stupid shit? Get your muzzle outta your tailhole."

Pinethroat lashed her tail and fell silent.

Weaselface looked down at her paws. There was a final piece of fresh-kill; a big, juicy starling. Her stomach rumbled as she looked at the delicate feathers that covered it. It was ever-so-tempting to snatch it for herself. Technically, I could. I've done my job and fed the elders. Dew had munched on a lizard not long ago.

"I assume that's for me, then," meowed a voice that sent a shudder down her spine.

Weaselface swallowed and stepped aside, waving to it with her paw. "Of course, Squirrelwhisker. Dig right in."

Squirrelwhisker padded by without even an acknowledging nod. The ginger molly was a bit taller than Weaselface, with a naturally wiry frame that even the leftover kitting fat couldn't hide. Her eyes were a sickly yellow-green, and easily her most defining feature. She crouched down beside the elders, studying Weaselface.

"Head you had kits," Squirrelwhisker said finally, tearing a bite out of her starling. "You look it."

"Yes, ma'am."

She snorted. "Oh, so I'm ma'am now? Not when I was a mentor, or even a senior warrior, but now? You're not subtle."

"It's not her fault you failed, Squirrelwhisker," Pinethroat murmured. Her voice was surprisingly quiet.

Squirrelwhisker paused mid-chew. "It's not my fault Antpaw decided to fight full-grown warriors, either," she replied. "But sure, blame me. Not the one who openly admitted it was her fault. Makes the same amount of sense Spiderstar does for banishing me to this rock."

Weaselface flinched. I can't exactly deny that, can I? "I got careless."

Something smug flickered in her gaze. "See what I mean? But Spiderstar only cares that she boned his son. It's pathetic."

"His dad was the same way," Mossytooth commented, setting his chin on his paws. "His grandpa was leader too. One of your kids will probably be next, Weasel."

Anxiety prickled beneath Weaselface's pelt. If any of her kits became leader one day, she'd be ecstatic. But she wanted them to earn it, not just be handed it like it was a starling. "Don't blame me for Spiderstar being inept!" she snapped, then fully realized what she'd said.

Four sets of eyes swiveled to her instantaneously. Pinethroat's jaw dropped, horrified. Mossytooth's ears flattened with surprise. Squirrelwhisker took another bite of her bird, tail-tip twitching. Dew coughed into her paws.

"Are you laughing?" Pinethroat shrieked.

"Of course I am," Dew said. "She's right. If you have to shove cats around, you're not doing a great job at the whole leading thing."

"That's not really the point, Dew." Mossytooth blinked at Weaselface, then at the loner. "You shouldn't just say that. Out loud. In front of others."

"Why not?"

"Well, because he might find out."

Dew rolled her eyes. "I think that just proves the point."

The ginger molly licked a paw, drawing it over her ear. "I think that's pretty tough talk comin' from you, Weaselface. You don't think you'd be a better fit, do you?"

"Of course not," Weaselface meowed, desperate to backtrack. "I just... think there's some things that we could all do better, is all."

"Like what?"

Her tail wagged behind her with a wave of nervous fear. She didn't doubt Squirrelwhisker would weaponize this against her later. But Dew's eyes were glittering curiously as she gestured for her to go on, and it was a bit late to pretend now, wasn't it? "Like- like this camp, I guess. I'd wanna fix it up."

Mossytooth cocked his head to the side. "Why? Ain't nobody using it but us."

"But they could," she explained. "Anyone could come here; to rest, to hunt, to hide. If we lost one camp, we'd have another! And- and I think it's stupid that we stopped having apprentices help the elders. It's a great system- apprentices learn to watch for ticks and how to make nice nests, elders get pampered, and once day apprentices will get the same back! And..." she broke off. Everyone was staring again. "I'm boring you, aren't I?"

"I wish," wheezed Pinethroat, looking a smidge bit overwhelmed. "Where did that come from?"

Weaselface tucked her chin against her chest. "I guess I've just been bored in the nursery? I helped you guys a lot as an apprentice, so I'm a bit biased about it."

"You're passionate," Dew corrected. "It's a good look on you."

"Yeah? Aren't I..."

"Like Mudcloud?" she guessed. "Heavens, no. Mudcloud was an idiot. He wanted to be leader so badly, but I never heard him give any reason why. He never really wanted to do anything with it. Wanting to take care of cats is a pretty good aspiration to have, I think."

Squirrelwhisker didn't look convinced. "Does it really matter? It's not like Spiderstar would want her to be deputy."

No, thought Weaselface, remembering her dip in the Moonpool, but someone does.

"She's the daughter of two rogues, and she just got Antpaw killed. Spiderstar might be inept, but I like to think Beetooth would warn him against someone like Weaselface." Squirrelwhisker's gaze darted off to the side, and she bristled. "Ashkit! Hootkit! Are you listening in on adult conversation again?"

Weaselface craned her head over her shoulder. Out of the nursery poked two little muzzles. One was gray and lean, like their mother, while the other was short, stocky, and a brown tabby. They were around three moons old by now, and were easily able to be on their own during a quick mealtime argument.

"It was Hootkit's idea!" squeaked the gray tom.

Hootkit glared at her brother. "No one made you, Ashkit!" She eagerly bounded over, tail high. "When are we gonna fix up camp? Can I help? I think we should put a big hill in the middle, so we can see over the trees!"

"No one is fixing anything. Weaselface was just rambling." Squirrelwhisker stood, gathering the leftover starling. She paused as she passed Weaselface again. "If they start parroting you, I'm going straight to Spiderstar, and we both know he won't be happy," she mumbled lowly. "You of all cats should know what happens when he's not."

Weaselface tilted her chin up a bit, refusing to back down. The ginger she-cat shook herself and moved away, herding Hootkit back towards the den. Ashkit moved out to greet them, staring at her for an uncomfortably long time.

Weaselface stuck her tongue out at him. To her delight, Ashkit stuck his out in response before skittering after his family.

Chapter Text

"Elmkit, give Weasel her tail back!" Sweetshine's scolding was gentle as clover as Elmkit tried fruitlessly to pull Weaselface's tail off. "You're gonna wake her up!"

Weaselface sighed out of her nostrils. "No, no, it's fine. I've surrendered to my fate." She lifted her head to look very pointedly at Elmkit. Elmkit smiled around the fur and went right back to it. "I haven't felt this rested in ages. Did Beetooth die or something?"

"Not quite," said Sweetshine, who let out a bubble of laughter. "Your daughter decided to tell Spiderstar off. He's in the clearing now, playing with the others."

She blinked uncomprehendingly. "Which one?"

"I did!" Elmkit chirped, puffing her tiny chest out. "Grandpa wanted to take you hunting, but I told him no!" The brown and white tabby gave one last tug to her tail. "C'mon, mama, have breakfast with us!"

Weaselface felt torn between humor and horror as she sat up, letting Elmkit lead the charge. I dunno where she gets her attitude from, but it's gonna get her in trouble one day. The kitten eagerly skittered out into the clearing, almost instantly pouncing on Spiderstar, who was rolled onto his back while Featherkit squirmed across him.

Weaselface looked around curiously. ThunderClan was practically empty at this point. Plumpetal and Bumblepaw sunned themselves by the fresh-kill pile, sharing a squirrel. Birchfoot was grooming Ratpaw after what looked to be a particularly rough patrol with Smokescar, the latter of which was nowhere to be seen. They were the only cats around.

"Hi," squeaked Honeykit, making her jump. The little tom was sitting by the entrance of the nursery, just out of sight, with Larkkit.

She crouched slightly to speak eye-to-eye with him. "You guys don't wanna play with Spiderstar?"

Larkkit's ears went flat. "We wanted to! He said no."

"He said only special kittens got to play with him," Honeykit added. His little eyes were wide. "Aren't we special too?"

A dark kind of anger surged through her veins. Weaselface gathered the two close and nuzzled them. "You're very special. Spiderstar's just really excited to spend time with his grandkits, and he forgot how to be nice."

"Aren't we his too?" Larkkit asked. "We're one big family, aren't we?"

"We are," she promised. "I know it's not the same, but how about we share breakfast together? Then we can play."

That seemed to perk them up a bit. Weaselface collected a vole from the pile and nodded a greeting to Plumpetal and Birchfoot. Elmkit and Featherkit disengaged from Spiderstar as she came back, leaving the black tom bereft of kittens. Spottedkit ripped some fur from the vole and set to work with her teeth, carefully and thoroughly mashing it.

Spiderstar joined them with a glance at Spottedkit. "Aren't they a bit young for prey?"

"They're almost weaned," Weaselface replied, tearing a bite out of her late breakfast. "But she's not eating it."

Spottedkit stopped chewing to speak. "I'm mushing it up!"

"Mushing it up?" he repeated slowly, tilting his head to the side. "Why?"

"It's fun," she said, and shrugged. "Papa says it's okay, so long as I eat it up after."

"I... guess it is?" Spiderstar looked from Spottedkit to the other two nestled up in her side. "Oh. Are they joining us?"

Weaselface lashed her tail. "Spiderstar, you can't just ignore Larkkit and Honeykit. They're just as much future warriors as the rest."

Spiderstar flinched a bit. He at least had the decency to look sheepish. "You're right, I'm sorry. I'm... not great with kits."

"Adderpelt turned out just fine," she said sensibly.

"That was mostly Flintpoppy's doing."

Doubtful, Weaselface thought, trying not to snort. Flintpoppy wasn't what she would consider motherly. But, then again, neither was she. "Kits are basically just tiny warriors. Talk to them like it."

"Yeah?"

"I haven't scarred them for life yet."

Spiderstar scrunched down so he was laying more comfortably. He glanced around awkwardly. "So... how was patrol?"

Weaselface stared at him blankly. Is he... trying to joke?

Featherkit perked up. "It was great! I caught a leaf this big!" She held out her paws, unintentionally flopping onto her back.

"It was," added Honeykit. "I measured it. Then Larkkit tried to eat it."

"Hey!" Larkkit pouted. "I did eat it."

"What," said Weaselface, just as Spiderstar said, "Why?"

"Mama says not to waste stuff we catch! And Featherkit did a really good job!"

"I made her spit it out," Spottedkit explained, and they both relaxed. "I told her if she swallowed it Mintfern would make her eat a icky plant to puke it up. I saw her do it once."

The silver and white tabby stuck her tongue out. "Ew."

"That's gross but eating a leaf isn't?" Spiderstar pondered, looking at Spottedkit. He squinted. "Wait. Did Spottedkit always have white?"

Weaselface felt like she was on the back of a monster, being thrown left and right by the conversation. "Yes?"

"You're sure?"

"That's... why I named her Spottedkit, sir."

"No, not that." Spiderstar pulled the kitten closer and licked her roughly between the eyes. Under his primping, Weaselface noticed a small patch of white hairs beginning to snake their way up from the bridge of her nose. "See that? Adderpelt never mentioned her having a face spot."

The ground dipped out beneath her. "She... doesn't have a face spot. Just her paws and chest."

Spottedkit blinked at Spiderstar, then her. She looked remarkably calm. "I got a new spot. It happens."

"Not... not like that. New patches of fur usually only happen when you get old, or you lose some in a fight."

"Nuh-uh. Look." Spottedkit shifted so her back legs were splayed out, as if she were going to clean her belly. There was a bigger spot on the inside of her hip, hidden by the natural bend in her leg. "See? That's why I'm named Spottedkit, right? Because I get new spots?"

Weaselface pushed the prey over to Spiderstar and sat up. "I'm going to Dew."

"What? This isn't time for this argument! Mintfern can-"

"Have you ever seen this before?"

He hesitated. "No."

"Then Mintfern probably hasn't either- she's only a few seasons older than me! Dew might not be a medicine cat, but she's seen all sorts of weird stuff. If anyone can give us a basis to work off of, it's her." The brown she-cat scooped Spottedkit up, leaving a half-mushed bit of prey behind her. "I won't be gone long, okay? Can you watch the kits?"

Spottedkit squirmed a little. "I gotta eat that! Papa will be disappointed."

"Larkkit can eat it, Spottedkit." Spiderstar gently brushed noses with her. "We're just gonna make sure you're healthy."

"Of course I'm healthy," she meowed, tiny tail lashing. "I eat all my prey!"

Weaselface didn't think to take it slowly as she scrambled through the territory. Spottedkit dangled like moss from her teeth as she ducked over and around various bits of foliage, hardly even second-glancing the Thunderpath.

Spottedkit was silent for most of the trip, only thinking to speak when she slowed down. "Mama, am I gonna die?"

Ice stung Weaselface's heart at the tremble in her voice. "No! No, of course not." Spottedkit wouldn't be so alert and active if she was, would she? Still, the white patches concerned her. What if it's a weird cat mold? Or what if StarClan is marking her for death? A third, equally terrifying option hit her. What if it's because I lied about Adderpelt being her father? What if StarClan is punishing her for my misdeeds?

"Okay." Spottedkit looked at the shady pine tress above them. "Mama, when are we gonna move here?"

"What?"

"They told me it was home. When are we gonna go home?"

"Who is they?"

She shrugged. "Them," she answered, and gave no further description. "They told me we belong here, and that when you fell into the water you came out different, and that's why."

"I..." Weaselface trailed off. She wanted, more than anything, to shout no, don't listen to them! They don't know anything! But they did, didn't they? "I don't know, Spottedkit."

"Okay," she said, and fell silent.

There was no one guarding the elders' camp at this time of day, which made it easy to slip inside without awkward questions. Most of the elders were sleeping in their den, and there wasn't hide nor hair of Squirrelwhisker. Ashkit and Hootkit were quietly playing tag, but quickly stopped as she came up to them. "Have you seen Dew?"

Ashkit shrunk his head into his shoulders and didn't say anything. Hootkit was sniffing at Spottedkit's paws. "Did you bring us a new playmate?"

"I'm looking for Dew. Have you seen her?"

Hootkit crooked her tail to point at a squashed bramble thicket. "She's in the sandy den."

That's... new. Too worried to think over it, Weaselface dipped her head and went inside. The den was, indeed, sandy to the touch, with remnants of what had once been pine needles on the floor. The walls had little hollows, holding various decayed leaves and berries. This must've been the medicine den, once. In the very center was Dew, sprawled out and snoring.

She gave the blue molly a solid nudge and set Spottedkit down. "Dew. Dew? Mom!"

"Wassat?" Dew said eloquently, waking with a snort. She stretched her legs out. "Criminy, Weasel, you trying to kill me?"

"Spottedkit has spots," she blurted out.

Dew blinked at her sluggishly. "Good for her."

"No, I mean..." Weaselface nudged the kitten close to her. Dew's tail twitched as she broke her personal bubble. "This is Spottedkit. She's getting all sorts of white spots she didn't have before. I thought you might know something about it."

"Hi, grammy," Spottedkit chirped. "How come you don't visit us?"

"Because I find your leader and camp repulsive."

"Yeah, that seems like a good reason."

Dew groaned and wiped a paw over her face. She studied Spottedkit a moment, looking more and more frustrated as she did so. "Fuck's sake, Weasel. You interrupted my nap for a little vitiligo?"

"And I'm going to keep interrupting until you tell me what that means!" she snapped, taking a step forward. "Is it going to hurt her? Is there any herbs we can use? Is it lethal?"

"Christ," she grunted. "I forget you were raised under a rock. It's, like, a birth thing. It's not common, but it's not uncommon. All it does is have the bits of you that make your fur a certain color die out, leaving white spots. It doesn't hurt or anything." Dew's jaw split in a yawn. "By the time she's my age, she's probably gonna be more white than black."

"Am I gonna get a squishy face like yours?"

"We can only hope." Dew put her chin on her paws. "Well, I meandered my way in here hoping to get a break from Pinethroat's snoring, but it's a bit late now. Might as well put up your paws."

Weaselface hesitated, feeling torn. She was thoroughly relieved to know it wasn't dangerous, but also a bit embarrassed to have jumped to conclusions. "I should probably get back. Spiderstar-"

"Can mosey his butt on over if it pays him that much mind."

She stared at Spottedkit's little form as her chest rose and fell. Sleep was far from Weaselface's mind.

"Mom," she said finally. "You're great at crushing stupid fantasies."

Dew rolled onto her side with a sigh, refusing to open her eyes. "It's what I do best."

Next came the complicated part; wording. Weaselface knew that Dew didn't believe in StarClan. She doubted she'd even listen if she brought the topic up. And while she wanted this persistent niggling to vanish, she wanted it to do so properly, with facts, rather than a quick shutdown. "I've... been having a lot of dreams lately."

"Okay," she said, instantly wary.

"You know this camp was once a Clan, right?" Dew nodded. "I keep having these dreams of bringing it back. Of- of taking this camp and fixing it up and living a long life here. I don't want my kids being treated like I was growing up. Spiderstar's already trying to teach them to see each other as... different."

Dew finally cracked an eyelid. "Ahhh, so that's where the other day came from."

"It's stupid, right?"

"Is it?"

Weaselface's jaw dropped. "Of course it is! I'm ThunderClan!"

"Since when?" Dew asked. "You were raised here. This is home to you, yeah?" Weaselface glanced away. "Look. I don't think dreams are a great way to base your life plan. But dreams don't repeat over and over without a reason. Maybe part of you thinks it'll be better here."

"But..." Weaselface tried to think of a good argument to that. It was hard. "It'd be so much work! Patrolling, marking territories, and so on. Where would I even find Clanmates?"

"I don't get the Clan thing very good, but I'm pretty sure that's what deputies are for," she replied, amused. "If you ask nicely, I'm sure some of your little friends would come with, or maybe a few dipshits from the Twolegplace. Some cats just love fixer-uppers."

"You're supposed to be telling me this is stupid and to stop thinking about it."

Dew blinked thoughtfully. "I think I'm the wrong person to ask for that. I love doing stuff that ruffles Spiderstar's fur. And you might not be perfect, but you'd definitely be a step up from him." She paused. "Hell, I wouldn't even have to stay, would I? I could- I could finally just... leave."

"No! Please, just... just for a little while. I..." Weaselface felt herself losing steam. Why am I even discussing this? "I'd... need a medicine cat. Or a vague approximation of. Spottedkit's clearly touched by StarClan, she just needs to learn. Just... just stay long enough for that. Please."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Alright. I'll stay for that. But not a day longer, you hear?"

"I'm not... I shouldn't..."

"Sounds like you've already made up your mind," Dew said, flicking her chin with her tail. "If you don't trust me, why don't you ask Dovefrost? Or Fogfur? They're pretty loyal, aren't they? And you trust 'em. Maybe they can talk you out of it."

"Why them?"

Dew shrugged. "They guard the camp the most. If anyone oughta hate the stench of this place, it's them."

Chapter Text

"You've got to be kidding me," Dovefrost said, eyes wide and dubious.

Weaselface flinched, almost dropping her mouse. "You don't have to be rude about it, you know."

The molly shifted guiltily, but didn't apologize. "It just doesn't make sense. Why would StarClan choose you? Nothing against you, Weasel, but this isn't exactly a great time for you to get some prophecy, is it?"

"Brackenstar said it was because I'm all rogue-blood."

Dovefrost pressed on. "They should've sent the vision to Mintfern. Or- I dunno, maybe Spiderstar himself."

"I don't think StarClan wants Spiderstar to have anything to do with this," she admitted, then hesitantly tacked on; "I don't think I want him to have anything to do with this."

The white molly tensed. Her face was very serious. "And what about the future of ThunderClan elders? Do you think we should just take every old cat out and throw them into a Thunderpath?"

"Clans are supposed to care for their elders! Spiderstar might have forgotten that, but StarClan hasn't." Weaselface looked long and hard at Dovefrost. It was hard to imagine her mentor was getting old, but there was the beginning sprinkle of gray along her muzzle. "You can't think this is all okay, can you?"

"That's a straw man and you know it. Every Clan has a few bad eggs, and sometimes those bad eggs become leader. ThunderClan is still ThunderClan, and it's where your loyalties should be." Dovefrost trailed her tail across Weaselface's shoulders. "This ShadowClan cat doesn't know you. All he knows is his own ambitions. Let StarClan take care of its own messes, alright?"

"Okay," Weaselface meowed, feeling surprisingly hurt. Dovefrost had a point, of course; Brackenstar was far from an unbiased source of info, and dead cats were just as flawed as live ones, but it was starting to make more and more sense to her regardless- fixing up the old camp and making ShadowClan come to life would help make the lake feel more equal again, and it would give the kits a chance to grow up without favoritism.

Dovefrost padded away, tail trailing under Weaselface's chin, and she knew the conversation was over. She sighed and set the mouse down, sick at the heart. She won't tell Spiderstar. She's always been kind like that.

But if I don't have the support of a senior warrior, is it worth the risk? I'd just be laughed out of ThunderClan.

Grass crunched underfoot, making her ears prick, though she didn't bother to look as Fogfur joined her. It'd been good luck that they'd all been put on hunting patrol today, just as it was good luck Weaselface had been able to pull Dovefrost away. She'd assumed two in one day would be too much.

"Woof," Fogfur meowed, sneaking a glance behind her. "What'd you say? She's fluffed up like a pinecone."

"Just something mouse-brained."

"Must've been a pretty big mouse-brained thing to get her going like that." The gray tabby leaned in, eyes twinkling. "Tell me?"

Weaselface sighed again. You know what? Why not. Fogfur's never betrayed me to Spiderstar either, even when she was mad at me. "I think I've been getting dreams from StarClan."

Fogfur blinked at her. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"No," Weaselface said grimly, and told the whole story. To her credit, Fogfur listened with a surprising amount of patience.

"Huh," she meowed eventually, once Weaselface had run out of yarn to spin. "Cool."

Weaselface stared her down, certain she was joking. "Cool?"

"Yeah! It's like an adventure, only it's next door, so you won't have to miss your friends so much."

"But if cats came, I'd be ripping families apart. Isn't that a little messed up?"

Fogfur shrugged. "We can set up a meeting spot. Like a mini-Gathering." She tilted her head slightly. "What did Brackenstar say about it when you slept in the ShadowClan nest?"

She kicked a spot of dirt up with her paw. "I haven't gone yet."

"Why not?" The gray tabby headbutted her shoulder in a friendly manner. "You seem pretty interested. And if you don't like what he says, it's over and done."

"I guess," Weaselface replied. She was a bit shocked how into this Fogfur was becoming, especially after how Dovefrost had reacted.

"We could do it tonight! I'll ask Spiderstar if I can help you guard the elders' camp tonight. I usually do it anyway, and he doesn't exactly complain about warriors volunteering." Fogfur's eyes widened. "Man, you're not even Weasel anymore, are you? You're Weaselstar."

Weaselface shifted, tail flicking. "I don't feel like a Weaselstar."

"Well, duh. You aren't doing 'star things yet! But soon you might be soon." Fogfur's ears pricked with ill-contained excitement. "Let's do this thing, Weaselstar."

The night was clear and warm, though Weaselface hardly noticed. She anxiously crept inside the elders' camp, prompted by an encouraging nod from Fogfur, only to find it empty. Everyone had retired to their dens without a fuss. I dunno if that makes this creepier or comfier. Weaselface took a quick sprint over to the center of camp, towards a hill of rocks.

Ducking behind an ancient rag of lichen, probably put there to keep kittens out, Weaselface found herself in a little hollow. The floor was covered in shreds of moss and thorns, with a little dip in the far corner. Weaselface strained her ears, but the thicker walls made it practically impossible to catch much outside. She shuddered, feeling strangely disconnected from the rest of the world.

This is stupid. What if someone wakes up and sees me missing from my post? Weaselface hesitated, but reluctantly bunkered down on a few scraps of moss, trying to shift so she would be somewhat comfortable. This is a bad den for a leader. If I can't hear anything, I can't help. Her eyes slid over to the little dip. Might be a nice medicine den, though. It'd keep the herbs out of the weather and a random noise wouldn't interrupt dreaming. Weaselface's eyelids began to droop.

She blinked them open, and found golden tabby paws in front of her.

"Took you long enough," Brackenstar meowed, a teasing gleam in his eyes. He bent down and nudged her to her paws. "Don't worry, you'll feel plenty rested in the morning. This is a dream."

Weaselface stretched each leg in turn. There was an odd sort of energy to the tom she hadn't seen before, as if being in his camp had rejuvenated him. "What about-"

"I'll tell you, I promise. But first..." He nodded towards the entrance to the leader's den. It was day outside, and the lichen was new again. "Let me show you something."

She nodded, and together they left the leader's den. Weaselface blinked against the sunlight as she stumbled out into the clearing. She paused, staring, as cats swarmed out of dens on every side. Two kittens were rolling around in front of the apprentice's den, batting at each other with dark paws. A single 'paw stepped around them, sniggering as they butted heads. A pawful of elders sunned themselves on the rock and around the dens, while another patiently allowed what Weaselface assumed was their medicine cat unwrap a wound.

Brackenstar gave a gentle nudge with his paw, then swiveled his ears towards a tree. He eagerly leapt on, climbing in quick movements. Weaselface followed him onto a large branch that overlooked it all. "This is Pinebranch," he explained, sitting down. "I'd do ceremonies here."

Weaselface awkwardly sat next to him, a bit afraid of falling off, and looked out over the camp. None of the others seemed to notice. "Were they... your Clanmates?"

"They were," he rumbled. "I was young, when I was made leader. Younger than you. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I mostly stumbled into the position; my old mentor became leader, and he made me deputy and assigned me my first apprentice on the same day. He died before my apprentice was even a warrior." Brackenstar hissed a sigh out between his teeth. "ShadowClan was falling apart, Weasel. Seasons of mistakes piled up on us, and soon the others jeered at us. Some ShadowClan cats left us. Some thought being a kittypet was more honorable." He met her eye. "I wanted to prove them wrong."

Weaselface remembered a lifetime of being compared to Mudcloud and understood. "You should've focused on the warriors you had left. Not what everyone else said." He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "I was the same. I was so scared of being Mudcloud. I still am."

Brackenstar reluctantly dipped his head. "Greencough hit us hard. Then foxes. My medicine cat was going on and on that we were doomed, the little pessimist. ThunderClan and RiverClan stole our prey, over and over. We were starving. My deputy told me to keep my head down." His claws dug into the bark. "I didn't."

She glanced down to see cats vanishing, one by one. First it was the apprentice. Then the kits. Warriors glared up at them, baleful and doubting, before turning away. Only the elders stayed as they were.

"It took beating Rage and Fury for LeopardClan to win the river," he meowed, ears flattening. "All it took ThunderClan was one dumb tom. My deputy made a deal to protect those remaining, and they pounced while I slept. One by one, they took my lives. My oldest allies, killing me over and over again, so they could be spared." Brackenstar bared his teeth. "I will never forgive them. I will never forgive her."

Weaselface looked again and flinched. Only a Shadow remained, staring up at them without expression.

"Was it worth it?" he spat at it. "I trusted you! I loved you! Maybe I was a terrible leader, but you have committed a sin unforgivable, taking active part in destroying a Clan!"

The Shadow blinked empty sockets. "I saved ShadowClan," it meowed. "Your descendants walk among ThunderClan now. One helped your heir here tonight. I will never regret keeping them safe."

Brackenstar bunched his muscles and leapt off Pinebranch, landing on the ground with a solid thud. Weaselface hurried after him as he shoved his muzzle in the Shadow's face, every tooth bright and well-kempt. "StarClan sees it differently," he snarled.

"You don't forgive us. That is fine." The Shadow looked to her as she approached, bowing. "You have gifted us names, Lost. Have you forgotten mine?"

Weaselface squinted at it. "...Love?"

Love jerked its head in a nod. "Brackenstar will never forgive. I will never ask him too. But you... you can set us free. Give me permission, and I will fight for you to the very end."

"So you can kill her too?" he snorted.

"She will be my Clanmate," Love retorted. "You would understand, if you looked past your anger. But you refuse." It lifted its nose like an apprentice about to be named a warrior. "Will you greet me as a Clanmate, Weaselstar?"

Weaselface glanced at Brackenstar, unsure. This didn't seem like something she should be getting involved in.

"Go ahead." Brackenstar didn't take his eyes off of Love. "It doesn't matter now. ShadowClan will rise again, and it will do so by my heir."

Taking that as a go ahead, the brown molly took a single step closer and bumped noses with Love. Something fizzled under her nose, smelling of sap and flowers. She rubbed it against her arm as the Shadow looked at her, smiling.

Something dark and coiling landed before her.

Strip by strip, darkness peeled from the Shadow. Snowy white paws first, then legs, then finally the pelt itself, dappled with oranges and blacks. The newly unveiled calico had soft, gentle eyes, in spite of her very noticeable claws, which naturally poked out of her paws a little.

"Thank you," she meowed, in a different voice this time. It sounded a bit like gravel under a Monster's paws.

Brackenstar looked taken aback at the transformation, but he did his best to nod coolly. "Beethroat," he grunted. "It's been a long time since I could use that name for you."

"And who's fault is that?" Beethroat asked. She gently nosed underneath his chin, and Brackenstar went as stiff as stone. "I never stopped loving you, you know. But being a deputy means I had to be more than a silly crush."

"I don't forgive you," he repeated, but sounded just a little uncertain.

"It wasn't an apology," she returned, and in a blink she was gone.

Weaselface sniffed the air. There was still lingering sap on the breeze. "She seemed nice."

Brackenstar slowly shook himself. "You'll understand, someday, that there are things you just can't forgive. No matter how much someone meant to you," he replied. "Now. I've told you our past. Will you be our present, Weasel?"

"None of this has exactly been convincing. You want me to- what? Tear apart ThunderClan? So you can feel justified?"

"Don't be mouse-brained. ThunderClan is on the cusp of breaking between the bold and the afraid. You saw it today, didn't you?" Brackenstar held out a paw. "Let's show the world what it means to be equal again. Together."

Weaselface looked around the empty camp. It was old and decrypt again, just as it had been when she was a kitten. But she felt something flutter in her chest as the thought of her kits playing here, of growing into fierce ShadowClan warriors. She wanted to spend her seasons striped in the comforting shadows, and she wanted to meet more cats like Beethroat.

"Okay," she said, crossing their paws in a crude handshake. "Let's do it."

Chapter Text

Surges of panic and dread washed over Weaselface in increments as warriors began to come together for the Gathering. Beetooth and Mintfern were near the front, chatting about various things. Plumpetal was grooming her chest next to Smokescar; her stomach was beginning to grow plump with unannounced kits. Spiderstar and Flintpoppy lovingly brushed pelts near the back, the leader not quite ready to move to the front and part from his mate.

"You look like you ate a monster," Sweetshine meowed. The queen had agreed to stay behind this moon with the kits, just as Weaselface had done the moon prior. "Briarstar isn't even that mad anymore, I promise. It should be fairly quiet."

Weaselface felt herself smile a little in spite of herself, padding over to clean the calico between the ears. "Let's just say I'm planning on doing something a bit stupid and leave it at that." Worry curdled her stomach as she looked down at the sleeping kittens. I can't tell her. Not yet. She'll overthink it, and I won't let her decide to do this for the kits. This has to be a choice she makes for her own interests. "Thank you, Sweetshine. For everything."

"Should I be worried?" she asked, bemused.

She didn't respond, pulling away. She gave each kitten a little lick to the head before slipping out into the clearing. Weaselface forced a pep in her step as she came up beside Adderpelt, intertwining their tails in a friendly manner. She was scared, most of all, of his reaction to all of this, and how it would affect their friendship. We've always been together. And what about the kits? If he tries to keep them, I won't be able to stop him. Spiderstar and Beetooth would back him up in an instant. Something sharp lodged in her chest, making it hard to breathe. What if... what if none of them come with me? What if they keep the kits and raise them and I'm just... alone?

A different tail brushed against her hip, making her jump. Fogfur nudged Adderpelt supportively. "Have fun at the monthly drama," she meowed, then pressed her head to Weaselface's, lowering her voice. "You'll do great, Weaselstar."

Something settled in her spine. Something strong. "I wish you could come with."

Fogfur's whiskers quivered with poorly-contained nerves. It was nice to know she wasn't alone in being worried about tonight. "Meh, not much I could do. But don't worry; I'll be right here when you get back."

"ThunderClan!" Spiderstar called, and they separated.

The trip to the island was quiet and without problems, and, as usual ThunderClan was the last one to arrive. It was as Sweetshine had said; Briarstar grumbled as Spiderstar took his usual place, but she didn't glare at him. Rainstar gave his usual polite hello.

Sap and flowers filled her nostrils, and Weaselface knew who was beside her before she even looked.

"Go," Beethroat whispered.

Weaselface leapt to her paws and took off at a sprint, ignoring a confused cry from Adderpelt.

Time around her felt frozen as she darted between and around various cats, leaping over one unfortunate apprentice. The sky was as clear as the moon was bright, turning her brown pelt a sickly gray as she pushed to the front. The deputies all called out to her, probably wanting to know what she was up to, but Weaselface cleared them in a hop. If she hesitated now, she was sure she wouldn't be able to pluck up the courage again.

Climbing the large oak was a dream for most apprentices, certainly not something Weaselface ever planned on making reality. Her claws sunk into spongey bark, feeling rather than seeing the multitude of pawholds carved by leaders over the seasons. Brackenstar climbed this tree, once. Now it's my turn. Weaselface hauled herself onto the branch Spiderstar had taken residence upon, the black tom dumbstruck by her actions.

Weaselface threw back her head and yowled, "StarClan has spoken to me!"

There was a long, drawn out silence as eyes from all over the island pierced her pelt. Trembling, Weaselface lifted her chin to meet them. They think I've lost my mind. I probably have. She looked over the crowd and saw Adderpelt, jaw dropped, looking at her with confusion and hurt.

"Stars, Weaselface," Spiderstar meowed finally, shaking herself. "You couldn't have told me before all this? You just had to throw yourself up here?"

"ThunderClan is pretty dramatic," Rainstar commented.

Briarstar rolled her eyes. "As always."

Weaselface ignored them. "Would you have believed me if I didn't? Or would you think I was just asking for attention?"

"Probably not," he admitted. "But this can wait until after the Gathering. ThunderClan's business is ThunderClan's business, and you've already made pretty big mouse-brains of us with this little stunt."

"This is business of all the Clans," cut in a new voice, and Brackenstar landed on the branch from above. His golden tabby pelt was almost see-through in the night. "Look out over the crowd, Spiderstar. StarClan is with you."

Weaselface squinted; sure enough, the Gathering was almost twice as large as it had been before. Warriors cried out in horror and glee as family and friends stood beside them again. She looked up and saw the visages of past leaders dappled throughout the branches, looking right back. Weaselface shuddered. It took all her effort not to shrink down at all the attention.

Spiderstar's voice was deathly quiet. "What?"

"We've come to see a new day," Brackenstar responded. "Cats of the Clans, ShadowClan has been gone for too long. If all the Clans are to live in harmony, every section of the territory must be used appropriately."

Rainstar and Briarstar exchanged a look. The gray tom's eyes were glowing. "The fourth Clan is coming back to life?" he asked.

"Yes." He waved his tail to Weaselface. "I give to you, ShadowClan's new leader- Weaselstar!"

Starlit cats cheered. Most of the living warriors did not, caught up in the shock of so many ghosts around them. Spiderstar's eyes almost popped out of their sockets as Brackenstar brushed his nose to her head and said, "I've done all I can for you, Weaselstar. It's your turn now."

She shuddered again, but this time it wasn't fear. Weaselface had been given that name a little while ago now, and had been called it before, but only now did it truly feel like it was hers. She was Weaselstar now, and everyone knew it. She blinked and he was gone, and so were the throngs of StarClan observers.

"Well," said Briarstar, getting her attention. The brown and white tabby regarded her for a moment, no doubt wondering what kind of cat she was, before dipping her head. "Can't exactly argue StarClan, can I?"

"You can't seriously support this!" Spiderstar's hackles rose. "ThunderClan can't just half its territory for one cat!"

"Odd, but the rest of us survive with that amount of land," Rainstar meowed reasonably. "Weaselstar, if I may, would you like a patrol to escort you to camp for your kits? As a bit of neighborly insurance."

Weaselstar felt herself grow warm at the polite request, even if she knew it was only political. "Thank you, but I'll be alright. I've got a warrior waiting for me."

"You've been plotting this!" Spiderstar screeched. "How could you, Weaselface? And now you're going to take my grandkits away forever?"

"You can come to see them on the Halfbridge every quarter-moon." Weaselstar bowed her head to the gathered cats. "I won't force families to split for me. ThunderClan and ShadowClan are linked as thick as roots on a tree. I want to use those roots to build a bridge for our future."

His ears flattened against his skull. Weaselstar could see him trembling. "And if I don't let you?" he asked.

"You'll have to fight WindClan and RiverClan," Rainstar broke in, with a quick approving glance to Briarstar. "ThunderClan may deny StarClan, but we won't. I look forward to seeing you at the next Gathering, Weaselstar, and for many to come."

"That means a lot to me," she said, and meant it. "And if there's ever anything I can do in return for this, I will stand with you."

"Fancy words," Briarstar grunted. "We'll see if you keep to 'em."

Rainstar gave the gruff molly a playful shove. "Well, I don't reckon I have any news that can beat literally bringing the stars down. I propose we table this until next moon, when ShadowClan can give a proper report. Spiderstar?"

Spiderstar's muzzle squished up into an awkward smile-snarl. "I don't have anything new to report."

"All right then. The Gathering is at an end!"

Weaselstar didn't think she'd ever seen the island clear out so fast. Spiderstar leapt down and called for the others, taking off at a dead sprint- probably to tell the others of her presumed betrayal. RiverClan went next, and last came WindClan, the two leaders smiling smugly. I'll have to be careful of those two. They're only being kind to piss off Spiderstar.

With a neat jump, Weaselstar hit the dirt, only to realize she was almost completely alone. StarClan was gone, and with it had gone everyone else. Only one ThunderClan cat had stayed behind. Her heart sank as she gingerly approached Adderpelt.

"How long?" he asked.

Weaselstar shrugged. "I fell into the Moonpool when I disappeared that one night. I was getting dreams before that."

The black and white tom's claws sank deep into the mossy ground. "And you didn't tell me?" Adderpelt's voice wobbled with anger. "Weasel, I thought you trusted me."

"I do! I just... I didn't want you to feel pressured to-"

"Of course I feel pressured!" he barked. "Spiderstar's my dad, Weasel! I can't just leave him!"

"Then don't," she snapped, feeling something hot flare inside. I just told everyone they could visit each other. Didn't he listen? "No one's forcing you to go anywhere, okay? You can be a ThunderClan cat and find someone you love and have a whole new family. You can start over from scratch. But I'm not going to live the rest of my life terrified of stepping on someone's paws. I'm going to be me."

Adderpelt shook his head. "I'm not- I can't just leave the kits. I love them. So, so much. And I'm going to be their father, regardless of how big of a mouse-brain you can be. But that doesn't make any of this okay."

Weaselstar accepted this with a heavy heart, sighing. "You should go ahead. I'll wait a bit, then join."

"Don't be stupid," he replied. "You might be an idiot, but you're my idiot. We're going together."

She can't help it. She laughed. "You're a good friend, Adderpelt."

"I know," Adderpelt meowed proudly. "This, though? This was a terrible friend moment. Gotta. Gotta really work on your friend stuff, Weasel."

Somehow, stepping into ThunderClan was ten times as terrifying as the Gathering. Even with Adderpelt by her side, Weaselstar felt herself shaking nervously as she walked into a world of eyes that had known her all her life. Everyone was awake now, staring at her like she was an oddity.

At the center was Spiderstar, every hair on his pelt prickling. Weaselstar couldn't help but think he looked like a pinecone. "So," he hissed, "StarClan has poisoned you against me. And you went willingly. And now you stand in my camp, like you have the right to be here?"

"I'm just here for my kits," Weaselstar meowed, and was proud her voice only wobbled a little.

"They're ThunderClan kits. Sweetshine can take care of them."

Sweetshine padded forward, only stopping when she was nose-to-nose with Weaselstar. "You should've told me," she said quietly.

"I'm sorry." Weaselstar bowed her head, more exposed than ever. "I was selfish. I didn't want to stop sharing a nest with you."

The calico looked to Adderpelt a moment, then Spiderstar. "I'm going with her."

"What?" Spiderstar bunched his muscles up to pounce. "You flea-bitten-"

A gray paw barred his way. "Let them go," Beetooth said, glaring at them. "ThunderClan doesn't need traitors."

He forced his pelt to lie flat. Spiderstar regarded them the way he would a particularly sticky slug. "You're right. Take your spawn and get out of my camp. I should've known, the night Mudcloud betrayed me. You're born for it, Weaselface. And now you're turning my own son against me."

"I'm going."

Weaselstar whirled her head towards the voice of Dovefrost as she came to stand by her. "Dovefrost? But-"

"I'm getting old," she said, looking at Spiderstar. "I would've been sent to the elders' camp eventually. I'd rather it be my own choice."

Fogfur pranced up to them, waving her tail behind her. "C'mon, Nutstripe, let's go!" she called. Nutstripe didn't move. She looked at him, eyes wide. "Nutstripe?"

The light ginger tom shrank under her stare. "Why? ThunderClan is our home, Fogfur. Antpaw died here. I'm not leaving."

"It's nice to see we're not completely filled with traitors," Flintpoppy added, coming up on Nutstripe's side. She glared at Fogfur. "Your mother would be so ashamed of you."

Fogfur flinched, ears flat, but didn't move.

Unable to watch, Weaselstar slowly went towards the nursery, Sweetshine behind her. I haven't even left yet and cats are turning on each other! Elmkit was snoring softly as they entered, Featherkit on top of her. Spottedkit had rolled onto her back. Larkkit had woken during the noise, and was staring at them. Honeykit was trying to wake the others.

"Are we leaving?" Larkkit squeaked.

Sweetshine gave her a quick nuzzle. "We are, dearest."

The silver and white tabby squished herself into the moss. "But we can't! I don't wanna leave Elmkit and Featherkit and Spottedkit!"

"We're going with," Spottedkit slurred, only half-awake. "Right, mama?"

"Right."

"Oh." Larkkit immediately calmed down. "That's okay, then."

Weaselstar scooped Spottedkit up and set her on her back, then Honeykit. Sweetshine held Elmkit in her maw and motioned for her to set Featherkit on her back, leaving Larkkit for Weaselstar to carry by the scruff. She took one last long look at the moss nest Flintpoppy had made her, and realized she wouldn't miss it. That's probably the seaweed's fault.

She left the den to find Smokescar glaring at Bumblepaw, who had moved between him and Ratpaw. "I'm your father," he hissed. "You can't just-"

"I can and am!" Ratpaw called over Bumblepaw. "I want to be a warrior! I can't do that if you're going to cut me off at the knee forever!"

"I'm just looking out for you! You're not old enough to make this decision, and neither is Bumblepaw."

Spiderstar's eyes were slits. "Traitors are traitors, Smokescar. Let them go."

He stared at the tom, stricken. "But, sir, he-"

"Now, Smokescar."

Smokescar leaned in, and for the briefest second looked ready to argue, before finally dropping his head and backing away.

"Sir," said Birchfoot.

"Are you serious," Spiderstar replied.

He stood and dipped his head. "It's not a belief thing, sir. Bumblepaw is my apprentice, and I need to see her training through. You understand."

"You walk out that camp, you don't ever come back."

Birchfoot didn't second-glance him, coming around Bumblepaw's side. Weaselstar, mouth full, nodded gratefully to him as she came up to him, then to Ratpaw and Bumblepaw.

Spiderstar was shaking now. He looked far less intimating with over half his camp gone. "Get. Out."

They did.

Chapter Text

By the time the sun started to rise over the hills, Weaselstar was ready to collapse. The Gathering, which had felt like seconds and hours all at once, had left her exhausted, and it occurred to her as they waited to cross the Thunderpath that she hadn't slept at all. The two kitten-sized boulders on her back and the kitten-sized one in her mouth didn't exactly help things. Stars, how are they so big already? They're just barely two moons old!

Dovefrost came up on her side after crossing. "We should probably iron out some details on how this will work."

Weaselstar blinked at her, sluggish.

"Do you have any idea who your deputy will be? Your medicine cat?" She paused, then leaned in. "Do you have your lives?"

She lifted her chin pointedly. Dovefrost took Larkkit so she could speak. "I have my lives. I have no idea who will be deputy. Dew is going to be medicine cat."

Dovefrost's muzzle screwed up. Her words were muffled around the kitten's fur. "Are you sure that's wise? Our first medicine cat being a rogue who doesn't even believe in StarClan?"

"Do you know how to apply mallow?"

"No, but neither does Dew."

"But she knows the basics. That's what we need right now- someone who can get us started." Weaselstar struggled to think about the deputy position. It was an important question. There was no last deputy, so I don't need to pick before Moonhigh, do I? Just before the next Gathering. "Did you want to be deputy?"

"Absolutely not," she snorted. Dovefrost took in her bedraggled features and softened slightly. "But I can be a stand-in until you make your choice, if you'd like."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And there's one more thing I'm worried about. You."

Weaselstar cocked her head to the side. "What'd I do now?"

"It's what you haven't done, actually. You've never had an apprentice. It's an important rite of passage."

"Ah." She had a point. Weaselstar didn't have the first clue on leading. There was a reason that was usually a necessary feature to being leader. "Well, there's not much I can do about that right this second, is there? Ashkit and Hootkit aren't old enough- and that's if Squirrelwhisker decides to stay and double if she allows me to teach one. It'll be four moons until the others are ready, and they're my kin."

"Ratpaw needs a mentor."

Weaselstar slowly shook her head. "He's almost old enough to be a warrior. I'd be a crutch."

Larkkit squirmed in Dovefrost's jaws. "I'll be your apprentice! I'll squish Ratpaw and Bumblepaw in battle training, and catch you huge voles, and-"

She cut her off with a gentle press of the nose. "I believe you, but kin can't train kin."

"Aw, rats," Larkkit pouted.

Ratpaw perked up from behind them, picking up the pace with a sheepish tilt to his ears. "I heard my name?"

Weaselstar opened her mouth, then shut it, unsure of how to broach this particular topic. Dovefrost gave her a friendly jostling, making Honeykit perk up a little. "We were just talking about how I've never had an apprentice," she admitted, and Ratpaw's eyes grew wide. "I was hoping you and Bumblepaw might be okay with me watching your training sessions, so I can get a feel for guiding."

"Oh." He stared at his paws a second, thoughtful. "I guess that would be okay. But I- I'm not going to be very good. I never really learned a lot of fighting, and dad never let me hunt any big game, and-"

Weaselstar draped her tail across his back. "And that's on Smokescar. You're not to blame for him not letting you learn." She attempted what she hoped was a reassuring smile, though she felt it came across more like she was trying not to yelp when someone stepped on her tail. "I've got a lot to learn too."

The black tom slowly smiled back. It was all nerves. "Thanks, Weasel. Um. Weaselstar?"

"Weasel is fine too. I'm not picky."

Dew was in the middle of grooming when Weaselstar pushed her way into camp, followed close behind by Sweetshine and Dovefrost. She blinked at them, tongue sticking out, before saying, "You absolute mad bastard. You actually did it?"

"Was I literally the last person to know?" Adderpelt grunted as he came up, trading a gentle head bump with the she-cat. "Sorry about barging in like this. Spiderstar didn't give us much of a choice."

Weaselstar took a long glance around the camp. It was the same exact heap it had been the day prior, but it felt very different to her now. This was ShadowClan. Her Clan. And it was her duty to rebuild it, starting with the dens. "We should decide which den goes to what, and start fixing according to necessity."

"First we should take a nap," Dovefrost shot back, setting Larkkit down. "Most of us have been awake all night. We need to rest."

Fogfur padded up to them. "I managed to get a little sleep, so I should be okay. How's about me, Bumblepaw, and Ratpaw go hunting? We could start a fresh-kill pile."

Bumblepaw perked up. "Yeah! I've always wanted to try catching frogs, and there's a whole bunch of them near here!"

"Can we?" Ratpaw asked, with a nervous glance to Birchfoot.

"Birchfoot?"

The brown and white tom thought about it, then dipped his head. "It's good to have some food laying around. We can go training once we're settled a little."

Fogfur turned her piercing gaze on Weaselstar. "Well?"

She swallowed, not used to cats asking her for permission. "Yeah, I... yeah. I believe in you."

The makeshift hunting patrol left without delay, leaving Weaselstar three cats shorter and even more tired, somehow. Tiny pawsteps caught her ears, and Weaselstar turned to see Ashkit and Hootkit eagerly meeting the other kittens, sniffing them. With a pang, it hit her that neither of them had ever had other kits their age.

"You're so big!" Featherkit squeaked.

"Nuh-uh! You're little." Hootkit puffed out her chest. "We're four moons old!"

"Four whole moons?" Honeykit's jaw dropped. "It'll take forever to get that big!"

Pinethroat crept out of the elders' den with her nose flared, ears pinned back. "What's going on? I smell so many cats."

"Special occasion?" Mossytooth guessed, coming up along the brown molly's side. Pinethroat instinctively leaned into his pelt. "Did something bad happen at the Gathering last night?"

"Something like that," Dovefrost said. "We're bringing ShadowClan back. StarClan's orders."

Mossytooth stared at her blankly. Pinethroat took a staggering step to the side with a little yelp. It was less horror and more surprise. He took in a deep breath. "S'like you're trying to kill me."

"I'm serious."

"I know. That's why my heart is losing its dung."

Pinethroat was trembling now. "What are we going to do? Where will we go?"

That's my cue. Weaselstar came up and nosed the elders' forehead. "You can stay if you want. And if you don't, I'll walk you to ThunderClan myself."

"Weasel?" she asked. "Does- is Spiderstar aware?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What does he say?"

"Something about traitors and liars."

"Oh, stars." Pinethroat pressed her nose to Weaselstar's chest. "Who is- am I supposed to... follow Dovefrost now?"

"No, ma'am. I'm ShadowClan's leader."

She paused. "You?"

"Yes."

"StarClan introduced her at the Gathering and everything," added Dovefrost. "It was impressive."

"Well," broached Mossytooth. "I suppose that isn't so bad. I know you'll do right by us."

"Are you sure?" Weaselstar pressed. "I won't blame you if you don't want to. You've spent your whole life as ThunderClan."

"Are we, though?" Pinethroat meowed, ears flat. "Clans are supposed to take care of their elders. I know things are much more peaceful here, but... it's so hard, sometimes, to grab myself something to eat. Will you take care of us, Weaselstar?"

Hearing the words from the skittish molly only made her resolve harden. I made the right choice. If nothing else comes out of this, at least I'll have done this. "Always."

"Well, isn't that sweet."

Weaselstar's fur rose defensively. Dovefrost grumbled a mild curse under her breath as she dipped her head to the red she-cat marching over. "How's the prey, Squirrelwhisker?"

Squirrelwhisker ignored her, shoving her nose firmly into Weaselstar's face. "Who in their right mind would pick you to be leader? You're hardly out of the apprentice's den! You've spent your time as a warrior hefting around kittens! You didn't even have the guts to name one after Antpaw!"

She forced herself not to respond to the mention of Antpaw's name. A dark sort of anger was gurgling just below the surface of her paws, threatening to swallow her whole. "I didn't choose for this to happen how it did, Squirrelwhisker. I know I have a lot to learn. I'm not asking anyone to see me as an authority figure. My goal right now is to fix the camp, and that's it."

"And kick out anyone who doesn't agree with you," she sniffed.

"I seem to recall Spiderstar doing the same," Dovefrost butted in. "I seem to especially recall that one of those cats was you."

Squirrelwhisker's tail lashed. "I'm not following the fluff-brained fox-heart who got my apprentice killed. That's final."

"Squirrelwhisker," she pleaded, and the she-cat fell silent, eyeing her up and down. "I'm not asking you to respect me. I'm not asking you to follow me. Stars forbid, I'm not asking you to like me! I'm just putting the offer out there." Weaselstar's eyes flickered back towards her own kittens, instinctively. They were piling on Ashkit, whom was beginning to look overwhelmed. "I'm glad that my kits won't have to go through all we did to be warriors. Don't you want the same?"

A blur of fiery red was the only warning Weaselstar had before Squirrelwhisker brought a paw down across her muzzle, claws unsheathed. She stumbled back with a yowl, rubbing the scratches. They weren't deep, and they'd missed her eyes, but she knew a warning when she felt one.

"Don't ever assume you know what's best for my kits," Squirrelwhisker snarled, turning on her heel. She stormed away; and, to her mild surprise, didn't try to take Ashkit and Hootkit away from their playtime, choosing instead to vanish inside the nursery. She's... not leaving?

"First day in the big leagues. How're you feeling?"

Weaselstar groaned into her moss.

"That good, huh?" Dew meowed, collecting cobwebs on her paw. She carefully chased a spider away from one. "Kid, could you not dig your paws into that? You're gonna give her an infection."

"Sorry," said Spottedkit, and didn't stop. She ran her paws gently but insistently across the long scratches. The patch of white on her nose was beginning to trail further up, coming almost to her eyes. "Are you gonna give her catmint?"

"Catnip? Naw. That's for coughin'."

"I know. Mintfern tried to give me some catmint when I got a scratch, once. She said she wanted to know what it'd do."

Weaselstar's claws dug into the moss. She hadn't known about that. It must've happened when I was so busy. Still. If I ever seen Mintfern near my babies again, I'll skin her.

"That's irresponsible," Dew replied. "And it's catnip. Catmint is just Clan cats trying to be fancy. Get over yourselves."

"Catnip sounds like it'll bite you."

"Mint is supposed to freshen your breath, not get you high."

"Aren't catmint and catnip two different plants?"

"No one asked you," Dew said, slapping the cobwebs onto her face. "I thought it was going pretty well, honestly,"

"It is, for the most part." Weaselstar knew it was silly to complain of one no amidst so many maybes and even a few yes's, but Squirrelwhisker's words stung far worse than her claws. "Do you think she'll leave?"

She adjusted the webs so they wouldn't hinder her eyesight. "Her? No. If she went back to ThunderClan now, all she'd be is the cat who trained the dead apprentice. She can be someone here, even if that someone is the cat that hates the new leader. If I were you, I'd keep my eyes on Ratpaw."

"What? But he's a great kid."

"He's never had to work before. He wants to, but until his body and mind adjusts it's going to be hard on him." Dew hesitated before going on. "It was for me."

"You think he might leave?"

"I think he might give up, and he's too damn young for that. Don't give him a hard time for it unless he's a brat." The rogue patted her dressing one last time before pulling away, smiling lopsidedly. "It's a shame I didn't get to see you at the Gathering. I'll bet Spiderstar blew his top."

"Yeah," she agreed. "I just... hope he wasn't right."

Dew reached out to bump noses with her. "Weaselstar," she meowed. "What a wonderful, wonderful name."

Chapter Text

For the sake of her own sanity, Weaselstar decided against sleeping in the nursery. She knew, without a doubt, that Squirrelwhisker would throw a fit about it, and that wouldn't be fair to the others. She watched, from a distance, as cat after cat piled inside: Sweetshine and Squirrelwhisker in the very middle, covered in various kits. Next was Ratpaw and Bumblepaw, who comfortably sprawled together. Fogfur, Birchfoot, and Dovefrost squirmed into the edges, protecting their more vulnerable members.

A flash of blue caught her eye, and Weaselstar turned to see Dew slipping into the dismantled medicine cat den. She felt herself smile a little; regardless of what Dew thought of her or this idea, she was probably ecstatic to be sleeping alone again.

The cadence of familiar pawstep brought her eyes back to the warriors' den. Adderpelt gingerly stuck his head inside, then paused contemplatively. The black and white tom glanced over his shoulder, making eye contact with her. Weaselstar stood, patting the ground beside her invitingly. He looked at it, then her, then slowly shook his head and went inside.

Thorns pierced Weaselstar's heart. He must be so mad at me.

The longer she thought about it, the harder it was for Weaselstar to believe that her Clanmates had all come willingly, and without resentment. The newly-made ShadowClan cat slowly sank to the dusty ground, laying out on her side. Ratpaw wanted to get away from Smokescar. Bumblepaw's always supported him. But Dovefrost doesn't want any part in this- she only came because she wanted to retire of her own volition- and Birchfoot put his apprentices over his own beliefs. And Sweetshine... A sudden emptiness caved in her chest, leaving cold ash behind. Weaselstar couldn't help but wonder if she'd only come with to keep their kits happy.

She squeezed her eyelids shut to force out the burning sensation. What kind of leader am I gonna be, if this is the start of my legacy?

Morning arrived before Weaselstar wanted it to. The camp felt surprisingly empty without Beetooth's growl and Spiderstar's obnoxious laughter. It felt less like freedom and more like they were hiding, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Dovefrost slipped out of camp without even a hello, taking Fogfur and Adderpelt on a hunting patrol. Weaselstar, ashamed she hadn't done any hunting of her own, set her tail over her nose and promised herself she wouldn't eat until they got back.

A soft weight on her side perked Weaselstar out of her doubt. Featherkit was getting bigger by the day, but while Elmkit grew in bulk and Spottedkit grew in stature, Featherkit seemed to gain a trunk's worth of legs in the two moons she'd been alive. She was gangly and awkward, with big ears and big legs attached to big paws. Her black fur was thick and plentiful. Honeykit was faring along the same lines, though his pelt was a bit sleeker. Every day, Weaselstar felt it was getting harder and harder to avoid the very real fact that they were half-siblings.

Maybe I'll tell them someday, she thought, as it hit Weaselstar that she could do so. Spiderstar couldn't punish her here. But not yet. Things are stressful enough as is. Maybe when they're 'paws, or maybe young warriors, I will. "What's up?"

Featherkit's ears flattened. "When are we going home?"

"Oh," meowed Weaselstar, immediately feeling awkward. She pulled Featherkit close, pressing a long lick to the center of her forehead. "This is our home now."

She made a face. "I don't like it. Everything's so squished!"

"It's not much to look at now, but we'll all fix it together." Dew's words came to mind again. Some cats just love fixer-uppers. Somehow, Weaselstar didn't think that necessarily applied to kits. "There's so much to see here, Featherkit. Did you hear the peepers last night? A few nights a season, the peepers croak the same time as the fireflies come out, and it's the prettiest thing. I think you'd like that."

"How am I gonna be a warrior?" Featherkit asked. "Grandpa can't give me a name here."

Weaselstar bumped their noses together. "That's my job now."

The black molly's eyes lit up. Her thick fur spiked out in excitement. "Oooh, oooh, can I get a super tough name, mama? I've always wanted a super tough name!"

"Anything," she promised, feeling her chest flutter with impatient glee. It hadn't occurred to her before that she would have the honor of giving cats their warrior names. It was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure, and she couldn't imagine waiting for so long to give her own kits their names. There's so many to choose from! How will I even start?

"Weaselstar," meowed a new voice, taking her attention away from names entirely. Birchfoot dipped his head as he approached, his white paws stark in the morning dew. "I've found a place I think could make a good training spot for the kids, but it's going to need a little love. Do I have your permission to take someone with me? I'd rather not do it all by myself."

"I'll help," Weaselstar offered. Birchfoot went to argue, but she cut him off. "I'm not going to sit on my butt all day, Birchfoot. I'm a warrior too. I can help."

Featherkit grabbed onto her ankle with her paws. "No, don't go! I didn't get to see you all night!"

She glanced away, feeling a fresh wave of pain hit her. I've barely been in their lives so far. Weaselstar gently nudged Featherkit off of her, cleaning her cheeks with a sigh. Once the camp is fixed up, I'll never leave them again. "I'm sorry, feathers. Soon."

The tiny field tucked away in the trees sat near the old path, making it a decent hike for new apprentices, but one look told Weaselstar it was perfect. The dirt was tightly packed underpaw, and there was no stones nearby for 'paws to cut themselves on. Tiny flowers poked up here and there, giving it flavor.

Birchfoot caught her eyes and smiled, chest puffing out with pride. "I think it'll do alright." He pointed a paw towards the edge of the clearing, which led back into the trees. "There's a pretty big rock over there, but I think it'll be fine as long as he make sure to keep the grass low around it. Some patches of thistle here and there." He licked his chest fur sheepishly. "You know. The usual."

"Yeah," she echoed, feeling something warm in her chest. "Our own little meadow."

All at once, the air was knocked out of her as a solid body slammed into her back, sending her sprawling. Weaselstar heard a tiny "eep!" and then Ratpaw's familiar black pelt was at her side. "Weasel, I'm sorry! We were just playing." He gave Bumblepaw a solid shove, rolling her off. "You squished her, buzzy-brains!"

Bumblepaw stuck out her tongue. "You shoved me, monster-breath!"

"And that's why I wanted to clean the grass before they got here," meowed Birchfoot, whiskers quivering with good humor. "You alright?"

"I'm used to it," Weaselstar groused. "Two apprentices weigh about as much as five kittens."

They spent the afternoon weeding the field. It was about as much fun as it sounded. Plucking thistle after thistle, getting poked enough times Weaselstar half expected to start leaking water when she got her next drink. The weeds left little divots of dirt behind, which they did their best to smooth over with crumbly, sandy spots.

Ratpaw and Bumblepaw were given the task of cleaning the area around the stone- which Weaselstar personally thought was an even more boring task. The two 'paws spent ages carefully chewing the foliage down, revealing a rock about the size of a badger. It swept upwards slightly, ending in the slightest of points, with a flat ledge on the back. Bumblepaw tested the panel and it was perfectly suited to keeping a cat's weight.

"Could be a great vantage point," Birchfoot meowed. "When 'paws are one big ol' tumble, we might be able to spot and correct moves better."

Weaselstar nodded along while cleaning off a particularly prickled paw. It honestly hadn't even occurred to her. I need to learn how to teach, and fast. "Thank you, Birchfoot. For doing all this."

"I like helping," he responded with a shrug. "I really want Bumblepaw and Ratpaw to succeed. I know they can do that here."

An idea came to her, then. Weaselstar knew today hadn't exactly been exhilarating, and she knew that this kind of tedious work would become a new normal for them all as they rebuilt and relearned how to live as a Clan. She thought it might be especially hard for them, since Ratpaw and Bumblepaw would be the first 'paws in many seasons of ThunderClan to take care of elders. So why not give them a little reward for their efforts?

Tail curling with badly-contained excitement, Weaselstar called them over. "You did a great job today, kids. How would you like to be the first ones to mark the territory lines?"

Ratpaw's jaw dropped. "Really? Us?"

"Really. There's still some daylight left, and I wanted to do some patrolling as it is." Weaselstar didn't know, exactly, where the new boundary lines would lay, but she had a good idea of where to start. The Thunderpath was a solid line to separate ThunderClan and ShadowClan. "How about it?"

Bumblepaw gave a little bounce. "Uh, duh?" The dark gray tabby gave the tom a solid shove and took off towards the trees. "Race you!"

"Hey! No fair!" Ratpaw cried, giving chase.

Birchfoot and Weaselstar exchanged a glance. She worked her claws into the dirt.

"Last one there is roadkill?" Weaselstar prompted.

The warrior grinned. "Thought you'd never ask."

Chapter Text

"No fair, it's my turn!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yeah-huh!"

"Elmkit, you went last time," Weaselstar meowed. Her fur was sticking up in random directions from exertion and badly-held brambles. "Let Honeykit have his turn."

Honeykit stuck his tongue out and trotted over with his head high. Elmkit whined in the background as he bent into a crude stalking motion, wiggled his haunches, and leapt to grab the bramble in question. The kits had quickly made a game out of retrieving it when it inevitably slipped from her paws, usually smacking her in the face along the way.

The black tom sank to the floor with the thick tendril in his teeth, eyes sparkling. "I did it! I caught the dog tail!"

"It's bramble, Honeykit."

"It's a dog tail," Spottedkit replied. "We all decided."

Weaselstar shrugged internally and took the bramble from him, not looking to argue. The molly crouched on top of the plant, sinking her teeth into a well-worn section. It wasn't difficult to chew through, theoretically; it was just hard for her to keep from being distracted, surrounded by kittens like she was.

Another yank almost had Weaselstar jumping with surprise, but it was just Larkkit, grabbing the very end and tugging as hard as her little body could. Weaselstar felt her irritation waver slightly. She's such a good little kit. It's such a shame it's doing jack-all.

"Are you still on that?"

This time, Weaselstar did jump, letting go of the bramble. It swatted her directly in the nose before rising back towards the top of the nursery. It was beginning to feel like it was taunting her.

"My turn! My turn!" Featherkit cheered.

Sweetshine was purring as she inspected the spot where Weaselstar had been hit, tail curling with badly-hidden humor. "You were going after that when I went in for a nap. It's still giving you trouble?"

She glared at her paws, ears hot. "It's mocking me."

"Let me have a go," she replied, touching the tip of Weaselstar's ear with her nose. "Go take a breather, Weasel."

"I can't-" Weaselstar started, then stopped, sighing. "What kind of example am I setting for ShadowClan?"

"To be fair, that bramble has it out for you." Sweetshine gave a gentle lick to the side of Weaselstar's face, making all her thoughts screech to a stop. "You don't have to be the best den-builder to be a good warrior. You helped me all the way to ThunderClan when I was kitting, didn't you? And you let everyone here decide where they wanted to go."

She shrugged self-consciously. "It's not like a lot of cats came because they wanted to."

Sweetshine gave her a pointed look. "Go for a hunt, Weasel. Grab something tasty, get a drink, and then come back. The bramble will still be here when you get back."

"But-"

"We can take the rest of the wall, can't we?" The calico directed the question to the kits. "We can kick and chew on all the bad plants together!"

Elmkit started to vibrate, pupils blown wide with excitement. "A whole pack of dog tails!"

"See that? You're outvoted, Weasel."

Weaselstar huffed and stuck her tongue out at them. "Little traitors. See if I let you help me with the big dog tail!"

"It's the leader," argued Featherkit, floofing her little pelt out. She looked like a burnt pinecone. "We gotta fight it together!"

She slowly shook her head. "Outvoted by my own children."

ShadowClan was a lot brighter than Weaselstar had expected. The natural shade of the trees took away a good portion of the sun's bite, but left the light behind. It was nice, she reflected, breathing in the pine and bog smell. Sometimes, ThunderClan felt like a worm on a rock- sizzling and stiff.

The brown molly tasted the air for prey. She was close to the small Thunderpath that bordered RiverClan, far from the disaster that was ThunderClan. She'd not seen any of her former Clanmates since moving, but Weaselstar didn't delude herself into thinking Spiderstar was taking this calmly. The meeting on the halfbridge is only a few days away. What if he attacks us when we cross the road?

A rustling caught her ears, banishing those worries all together. Weaselstar dropped into a crouch. Her tail-tip flickered impatiently behind her as she crept closer to her prey- a plump rabbit. And so close to RiverClan! Weaselstar felt something like amusement creep up. I'll have to ask Rainstar if one slipped past him on his way to visit Briarstar. Or maybe that's too personal? It'd be funny.

Weaselstar felt a breeze blow from behind her. The rabbit froze. Weaselstar watched as it shifted onto its back two paws, looking nervously around.

Mouse-dung! She took off just as the rabbit did, claws ripping up dirt behind her. It darted forwards, then right, then left, just barely dodging a new set of paws. Weaselstar skidded on the grass to avoid ramming into a gray-and-white blur of fur.

"C'mon!" the stranger called over their shoulder, laughing, as it took off. "It's gonna get away!"

Weaselstar stared after them, a bit confused, before deciding the rabbit absolutely took priority and following. The stranger was just a bit faster than her, their fur a flapping flag in the wind. They glanced back, saw she was behind, and whooped. The rabbit banked right, dodging the stranger's teeth by mouse-lengths, only to find itself becoming victim to Weaselstar's claws. The she-cat wheezed with success as she plopped down.

The stranger sat down as well, one leg sticking out to the side. Weaselstar could make out particulars now- they were a gray-and-white cat, long-furred, and just slightly taller than her. Their fur had a natural spikey quality to it, sticking up the same way Featherkit and Honeykit's did after a wash. They were smiling.

"Nice catch," they meowed. "I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you new?"

"You could say that."

"Sweet." The gray-and-white cat held their paw out expectantly. "Name's Ice Cube. He/him, if you please."

"Um," said Weaselstar, processing that entire sentence. What's an ice cube? "I'm Weasel." Ice Cube waved his paw with a pointed look. "She/her?"

"Nice to meet you, Weasel." He tilted his head to the side. "You look like you swallowed a sofa. Got a problem?"

"Just confused," she admitted.

"Never met a trans cat before?"

"I don't think so?"

Ice Cube laughed. "Ah, don't worry about it. I was born a molly, y'see, but I'm a tom through and through. It's why I smell the way I do. I can change my voice, but scenting can get complicated."

"Oh!" She perked up. "I've heard of that! Where I'm from, we just call it being born with the wrong spirit for your body."

"That's dumb," he replied. "My spirit is fine, and so is my body. I'm just trans."

Weaselstar winced. She got the feeling she wasn't making a stellar first impression. Change the topic, bog-for-brains! "You're pretty deep into forest cat territory, you know that? Doesn't that worry you?"

"Aw, they're all talk." Ice Cube blew a raspberry. "Nobody lines their nests with bones. You know how uncomfortable that'd be?" A devious twinkle entered his eyes. "Between you and me, I'm actually one of them."

It took all her energy to swallow a snort. If only he knew! "Is that so?"

"Yup. Heck, I'm one of their best cats." He winked. "Y'think a big, bad forest cat could take some of that rabbit home? It's for my husband."

Weaselstar hesitated, claws digging into the fur. It was still warm. "I dunno. I've got my own mouths to feed. Kits."

"I've got a couple of those too! You should visit sometime. Pringles absolutely loves gushing over the little ones." She studied his expression, and found that in spite of his earlier lie, there was nothing but honesty there. "Just a leg? I helped tire it out, didn't I?"

The fight left her in an instant. I've got a whole pile back home. "How's about this, Ice Cube. I'll give you this whole rabbit, but only if you stop by sometime next moon and let me have dinner with your family. Does that sound fair?"

"Sister, you've got a deal. Just warning you- you'll lose your ears once he's through chewin' them." Ice Cube grabbed the rabbit with a sly smile. "You be careful out there, alright?"

"I'll make sure to pass it on to my forest cat family," she replied. Ice Cube's face fell as she winked. The tom looked absolutely mortified. "Get on outta here. Before I change my mind."

Weaselstar dropped her mouse at Sweetshine's paws with a pout. "I thought I was gonna get to kill the dog tail."

"I told them to wait, but-"

"I did it!" Larkkit yowled, kicking the bramble with her back paws. "I beat it up, Wee-mama!"

She sighed and nuzzled the silver and white tabby. "My brave little warrior. You've regained my honor."

"I take it the hunt helped?"

Weaselstar settled in next to her with a little smile. "I think I made a new friend, actually."

"I hope it wasn't my dinner," she said, mouth full.

"Not quite. I do have a dinner date next moon, though."

"Ooh, mysterious. I like it!"

Chapter Text

"Sweets, I think it's safe to say that's- ashcksa," Weaselstar said, interrupted by tiny paws in her mouth. Sweetshine giggled against that stubborn patch on the back of her skull and went about cleaning her scruff.

Honeykit moved his paws around, checking each and every tooth. "You gotta look good if you're gonna see Spiderstar, wee-mama," he mewed, looking surprisingly serious in spite of the slobber. "I had dusty fur near him once and he cuffed the back of my head."

"That's 'cause he's a grumpy fart," Sweetshine told him chipperly. "And wee-mama is gonna strut in there looking like a TigerClan warrior and scare him so bad, he never cuffs a kit again."

"I'm going for our meeting," she muttered around Honeykit's paws. "Lots of cats'll be there."

"Good. You show him what-for."

Weaselstar shoved her nose into Sweetshine's scruff, inhaling deeply. Her claws slid in and out of her paws with unspoken nerves. "I'm sorry," she meowed finally. "You keep having to stay behind for these things."

Sweetshine's smile went lopsided. "Won't be too long now and they'll all be apprentices. Then we can both chase after them as they do stupid stuff."

"I should've been here more."

"You should have," she said, but there was nothing bitter in her mew. "It gets stressful, sometimes. It's why I'm so glad to have Adderpelt."

Adderpelt stopped grooming Featherkit to regard them both, eyes twinkling. "Love you too, Sweetshine," he meowed, then doubled his efforts as the kit tried to squirm free.

Elmkit's pelt was shiny and smooth, and she was pouting about it, ears flat against her head. "I wanna go see grandpa too!"

"You'll get to see grandpa when you're apprentices," Adderpelt reassured her.

"That's forever. Why can't we go now?"

The black and white tom stretched his nose out to prod her with it. Elmkit squeaked, tickled. "Because, grandpa and grandma want you to be safe, just like we do. You don't wanna worry grandma and grandpa, do you?"

"Yes," said Spottedkit, straight-faced. Honeykit broke into giggles.

Larkkit gave them both a solid headbutting, cheeks poofing out. "You should bring prey! It always makes me happy when someone brings me prey."

"Sure," meowed Weaselstar, fighting back a smile. Man, how mad would he be if I ate it in front of him? "Love you, kids. I'll be back in the morning."

The sun was beginning to set as she took to the clearing, tailtip flicking with impatience to be done and back in her nest. Dovefrost and Birchfoot were waiting by the entrance. How can two cats be almost half my Clan? A rush of dread swamped her as she approached, dipping her head. ShadowClan needed more warriors if it was going to survive.

"I'm coming too."

Weaselstar flinched at the sour mew of Squirrelwhisker. The ginger molly stalked past without even a glance. It's not exactly hard to guess what she's planning on doing. Spiderstar will probably rub my nose in it; warriors leaving me less than a moon in. Still, Weaselstar didn't think she had much to fear. Hootkit and Ashkit were still in the nursery, not on Squirrelwhisker's back, so maybe she wouldn't leave so soon. I'll take what I can get.

"Let's go, ShadowClan," she rumbled, feeling a thrill run down her spine at the words. ShadowClan. My Clan.

Traveling with only a pawful proved to be so much easier than a full Gathering patrol. It was a bit different from a simple border or hunting group; there was a sort of terse silence as they crossed the Thunderpath into ThunderClan. It hadn't been very long since Weaselstar made this trek, be it to visit Dew or to leave entirely, but already being here felt forbidden. The oak and birch trees rustled in the Greenleaf breeze, betraying nothing.

Squirrelwhisker looked around warily. She'd been living away from the territory longest of them all; it was only natural it might feel a bit uncomfortable to come back. "We're not going all the way into camp, are we?" she asked. "You're not that mouse-brained, right?"

"We're meeting at the halfbridge," Weaselstar replied. "Unless you'd rather we yell at each other from across the Thunderpath?"

The ginger she-cat bared her teeth in a frustrated snap, but ultimately kept moving.

Weaselstar pushed through the foliage and into the little grove surrounding the halfbridge. Of the Twoleg mysteries on the lake, she found the structure to be one of the biggest. Water monsters seemed attracted to them during the warmer moons- then, during the cold, the panels recoiled from the water, settling on the bank. She didn't necessarily think it was alive, seeing as monsters moved it, but it was hard to tell with Twolegs.

Sitting on the bank was Spiderstar, his black pelt melting into the gray sky. With him was Beetooth, Flintpoppy, and Smokescar. She swallowed and raised her chin, unwilling to be daunted. It was just like him to bring only his senior warriors- not that she was above that judgement. In my defense, they're all I have.

Spiderstar's ear flicked as she approached, as if she was but a fly. "This is the best you could do?" he asked. "Some battle patrol."

"This isn't a fight. I came for a meeting."

"Right. Onto ThunderClan territory." He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Funny how that doesn't matter when it's not convenient to you."

Weaselstar dug her claws into the grass. "We could meet anywhere you like, next time," she meowed evenly.

"I don't see why there should be a next time. Where's Adderpelt? And my grandkits?"

"Home."

Spiderstar growled low in his throat. "Clearly, they aren't."

Flintpoppy carefully weaved her way between the two leaders, shooting Spiderstar a look along the way. "There's no need to fight," she soothed. "I can only imagine how embarrassed you are, Weaselface. A Clan of elders and kits, lacking StarClan's guidance and relying on Dew for healing. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

Dovefrost's tail lashed. "Her name is Weaselstar."

"So she says," Flintpoppy answered. "But what proof do we have that she has her proper lives?"

"Did you forget having StarClan show up at the Gathering?"

"All I saw was a bunch of bored, dead cats who came to see history, led by the leader of a Clan that died well before any of us were born. Who's to say that pile of dust could even give lives?" She took a dainty step closer to Weaselstar, brushing her nose across her cheek. "Come back, Weaselface. With time, this could all be forgiven. The kits could become great warriors one day. Maybe one of their kits could even be leader."

"What you mean is, everyone would be safe except for me."

Flintpoppy smiled and said no more.

"I want my son back," rumbled Smokescar, ears flat.

"No one asked you," Squirrelwhisker snarled. Every hair on her pelt was prickling with distrust as she scanned the group of ThunderClan cats. "Where do you all get off, acting so high and mighty? You left me in a mud den without even a medicine cat. My kits don't know any of your faces. How are you lot the good guys here when you treat cats like that?"

Flintpoppy leveled her a plain look. "It's not our fault roadkill possum is more likeable than you are, Squirrelwhisker."

She hissed, enraged.

Spiderstar flicked his tail for Flintpoppy to step away. She did so, reluctantly. "I've given you plenty of chances, Weaselface. More chances than the average warrior. More chances than I gave your father. You stole my son from me, and I've been patient in spite of that. I'm done being patient." He twitched his other ear. "Let's see what kind of leader you really are."

Weaselstar blinked and Beetooth was upon her. She hit the ground with a solid thud, knocking the wind out of her. Instinctively, she shot her paws out, and stopped would would have assuredly been teeth sinking into her throat as she pushed his chest backwards.

Rage pooled as the weight of the situation struck her. This was supposed to be a peaceful meeting! Weaselstar raked her claws across the bridge of Beetooth's nose. Blood gurgled up as he yowled, jumping back. The gray tom rubbed his nose and attacked again, this time claws unsheathed. Weaselstar ducked her head and sank her teeth into the fragile skin of Beetooth's ear. She felt it rip away with her as she backed up, spitting blood and chunks of flesh. The taste made her stomach curdle.

Weaselstar didn't know what was more surreal; that she was winning, or that no one else was fighting.

Beetooth charged, then seemed to change his mind, ducking to the left. Weaselstar swiveled around to defend herself, but it was too late. Heavy paws slammed into her side, throwing her off to the side. Weaselstar made herself keep rolling. Her body felt like one big bruise as she stood and pounced, sinking her claws into Beetooth's scruff. He grunted.

The deputy threw himself forward, and Weaselstar crumpled. Her throat felt like it was on fire. Beetooth stepped back and watched as she struggled to get to her paws. What happened? She wondered, looking at her paws. Blood pattered down like rain, staining the dirt. Weaselstar sucked in a breath- or tried to, anyway. Her throat spasmed, and with that spasm she finally recognized the problem- a long, jagged cut across her throat.

Oh, she thought, dizzy. He got me. Good for him.

Weaselstar collapsed.

She heard the whispers. They came and went like waves on the shore; and Weaselstar, her vision blotted out with shapes and shadows, was helpless but to listen.

"No one fought with her," someone was murmuring. "They didn't even try to save her."

Another voice. This one was more snooty. "Of course not. Would you fight to the death for her?"

"Oh, hush," said a third. Weaselstar knew that one. "It's been less than a moon. It takes time to be a leader cats will fight alongside."

"Your champion is soft, Brackenstar. You should've chosen someone else. Anyone else."

"Like you, Mudcloud?"

Weaselstar's vision came to her in a rush. The molly slowly sat up, checking every claw on every paw. Nothing hurt anymore.

She could see the other warriors, but she couldn't hear them. Dovefrost was close beside her, tail frizzing out worriedly. Birchfoot backed away from what could only be Weaselstar's body, eyes wide with horror. Squirrelwhisker was nose-to-nose with Flintpoppy, no doubt spitting insults. Spiderstar's mouth was open, though she couldn't imagine what he was saying. Beetooth sat alone, bleeding from his face and ear. He looked displeased with himself.

"Am I... dead?" she asked.

"No. Sort of?" Brackenstar emerged from nothing beside her, though Weaselstar knew he'd been watching for some time now. She wondered where the others voices had gone. "You're losing a life."

"Already?"

He snorted. "Nine do-overs doesn't promise you a long life, Weasel." Brackenstar waved his tail over to the edge of the lake. "Come look," he meowed, and Weaselstar peered into the water below. Trailing up her throat and mouth was the scar she'd had all her life- a horrific injury in its own right, but what caught her eye was a bright pink jag that cut across the side of her neck. That was new.

"It's so obvious," she murmured, licking the skin self-consciously. There's no way I can say this is part of the original. "What do I tell everyone?"

"The truth. Spiderstar sicced his deputy on you during a peaceful liaison. You fought back and dealt a heavy blow to ThunderClan."

"Heavy blow? I barely even scratched him!"

"You're out of practice. Kitting does that." Brackenstar's eyes were grave as he studied her. She didn't think they'd looked this dark the night he told her the end of ShadowClan. "You must never tell your Clanmates how many lives you have. That's only for you and your medicine cat to know."

Weaselstar blinked at him, surprised. It's not like I can hide it! "But-"

"I know you trust them, Weaselstar, but trust kills leaders like us. It killed me." He tilted his chin back, baring a constellation of throat scars. "You have to prove yourself to your Clan before they will prove themselves to you. Only then can you trust them with this sort of power."

Something tugged at her paws- and Brackenstar, perhaps sensing it, leaned in. "Remember what I said, Weaselstar. And stand slowly. Your legs'll be shaky at first."

"-You've fallen in with the wrong cat!" Spiderstar was bellowing, and Weaselstar bit down a retort. Talking behind my back? That's just rude!

"I'd rather back an idiot than a coward," Squirrelwhisker replied. "Can't even fight your own battles, Spiderstar? Have to get Beetooth to do all the bloody bits for you? It's pathetic."

Weaselstar slowly shifted, gathering her paws underneath her. Brackenstar was right; they trembled as she put weight on them, as if she was a kitten taking its first steps all over again. Stars, how many leaders must've fallen nose-over-tail during fights? Into rivers? Out of trees? The idea of majestically being reborn seemed so silly now that she was living it.

"Did you even have a deputy?" Spiderstar replied. "All you have is a dirty camp and endless problems. What could be worth leaving all of ThunderClan for..." He caught sight of her and blanched. "Weaselface?"

"Weaselstar," she corrected mildly. Her voice sounded like gravel under monster paws. "I was actually thinking about bringing the kits next time, before all this happened. I guess I should thank you for being so blatant about your malice?"

Alarm flared up in Spiderstar's eyes. "You can't keep them from me," he shrieked. "Beetooth-"

Beetooth shook his head. The blood on his muzzle was beginning to dry. "We have proof StarClan gave her nine lives. That's what we came here for. I'm not attacking her outside of a real battle." He met her eye with an approving nod. "Won't happen again, Weaselstar."

"It shouldn't have happened in the first place," Dovefrost said tartly.

"I won't argue that."

Weaselstar shot Dovefrost a look. "Let's go home. There's nothing worth our time here."

"What about next moon?" Flintpoppy interjected.

She shrugged. Exhaustion tugged at her limbs at the idea of talking with these cats anymore. "Whoever wants to go, can. I'll stay away if Spiderstar does."

"And the kits?"

Weaselstar scoffed. "Seriously? After that?" How did I put up with this for so long? A couple days away was enough to make her realize just how much she didn't miss them. And she really didn't want any of them around her kits. "ShadowClan, I've seen enough. Let's go."

She relished in the strangled yowl from Spiderstar as she pushed off, leading the group in a trot. That's what happens when you think you're always in control. You get burned.

Weaselstar prayed he'd remember that lesson.

Chapter Text

"Jesus fucking Christ, Weasel."

"Hi, mom."

Dew, only halfway out of the medicine den, stared at Weaselstar like she had three heads. She slowly, hesitantly reached a paw up to touch the new scar. "...This is real," she meowed finally.

"And they say only the wisest cats can be medicine cats," Squirrelwhisker responded, rolling her eyes. The ginger molly had been surprisingly patient on the slow trudge back, even going so far as to let Weaselstar lean on her side. Her tail-tip was flicking with badly suppressed irritation. "Can we come in, or what?"

Dew didn't respond, backing away from the doorway. Weaselstar tromped inside, eyelids only half-cracked. Every step felt like a fight against a particularly motivated rock. Forget this. I'm never losing a life again.

"Beetooth attacked Weaselstar," Squirrelwhisker was explaining, nudging the leader none-too-gently into a squished moss nest. "He gave her a pretty good whack."

Dew's eyes narrowed. "On Spiderstar's orders, I'm guessing."

"Duh."

She tucked her paws underneath herself. "He didn't think I had nine lives. I think he wanted to scare you all into coming back by killing me- since I'm the leader or whatever."

"Because you're the only driving force here, obviously." Dew sniffed at the closed wound, laving a few licks for good measure. "Anyone here can name themselves leader. You just got the job first."

Squirrelwhisker flopped down beside Dew, eyeing her suspiciously. "I thought you didn't believe in this stuff."

"I dunno what I believe," she replied, shrugging. "I believe it's pretty stupid for these mystical ass star cats to give exactly one cat nine lives, and even stupider that they'll give basically anyone who steps into the right position those lives." Dew pressed a paw to her throat. "But I can't exactly deny that this is here, either."

Weaselstar shook the gentle touch away. Even healed, it was too sensitive an area right now. "What am I gonna tell Sweetshine and Adderpelt?"

"Does it matter? It's not like half the camp doesn't know already."

"It matters," she insisted. "This was my first leader meeting, and I ruined it! I couldn't even defend myself!"

"Beetooth's face thinks otherwise. This'll blow over in the celebration, anyway."

Weaselstar blinked at her. Celebration?

Squirrelwhisker hissed and swatted her ear. "My kits, dunderhead! It's time for them to be apprentices. Don't tell me you forgot?"

"Ashkit and Hootkit?"

"Is there literally any others?"

"They're, like, four moons old."

"Five moons," Squirrelwhisker corrected. "Look. I don't like it anymore than you do, but there's seven kittens in the nursery right now, and only two apprentices. Do you really want to go to the next Gathering with nothing to report?"

"Honestly, I kind of figured you'd have run out on us before they were old enough to be 'paws. Not... offering them up like this?"

Squirrelwhisker hummed. "I dunno if you've noticed, but ShadowClan is all I've got now. Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I don't think rebuilding this place is a bad idea. Just means I'm gonna outlive you entirely out of spite." She paused, considering. "No battle training until they're properly six moons old, you hear me? Just hunting and tick duty. We're gonna need the extra paws to keep everyone fed while we work on fixing up the dens."

Weaselstar's mouth fell open. This was a generous offer on a good day; considering who was doing the offering, it was a bit like StarClan had touched down and planted a miracle right in front of her. "Squirrelwhisker, I... you won't regret this. I'll do everything in my power to keep them safe."

"I already regret it," she meowed bluntly. "Understand this, Weaselstar. If my babies see a single scratch on their ears before they're old enough to defend themselves, I will stretch you out on the rocks and gut you like RiverClan does their food. In the mean time..." Squirrelwhisker heaved a truly belabored sigh, clearly hating this part the most. "You can train one of them. With my supervision."

Weaselstar touched her nose with her paw. It came back cold and wet. "Huh. No obvious signs of fever."

The ginger warrior's ears went flat. "I'm doing what's best for my kids, dog-breath! Making sure you don't completely wipe us out is far from a nicety."

"Okay, okay." Weaselstar dipped her head, a bit ashamed. She's really doing a lot for me right now. "Did you have any ideas of who should go to who?"

"Me?"

"I think it's only fair. This is already a strange arrangement, and you've given me enough as is. I'm sure it'd make you more comfortable to be able to choose."

She studied her face a long moment. "Adderpelt," she said finally. "I know Adderpelt will be good for Hootkit."

Someone steady for her fire. Makes sense. "Do you want me to tell him, or did you want to do the honors?"

"You do it. I've had enough sappiness for one day."

It was still early when Weaselstar slipped into the nursery. Sweetshine and the kits were sprawled out onto a single nest- the calico was covered with stripes of colors that weren't hers, and it was oddly adorable. Larkkit in particular caught her eye, tucked underneath the molly's chin with her hind legs splayed out behind her. She swallowed an undignified giggle and moved on to Adderpelt's nest. Ashkit and Hootkit were tucked up neatly against his belly, snoring.

He's a great father, she thought, the ghost of a smile on her muzzle. Even with five to raise, he'd willingly offered to kittensit. She settled in with her pelt pressed to his back, purring.

The movement seemed to rouse Adderpelt, eyelids cracking open with a snork. "Is it time for the dawn patrol?"

"Not yet." Weaselstar curled into the crook of his spine. The meeting seemed like seasons ago now, tucked up warm with her closest friends. "Squirrelwhisker's asked that they get made into 'paws today."

Adderpelt yawned, revealing rows of prickly teeth. "Bit early, innit?"

"She said no battle training, so it should be okay. She wants us to mentor them."

She felt the warrior go still under her, surprised, before relaxing with a surprised laugh. "I figured she'd be scared we'd make 'em soft. But what about Sweetshine?"

"I'll give her one of the next litter."

"That could be awhile."

"I know. I feel bad, but Squirrelwhisker made her choice."

"No pressure, then." Adderpelt shifted slightly. "You mind taking over for a bit? I wanna go grab our future apprentices a hearty breakfast."

"Hmmm, fine." Weaselstar shuffled backwards, missing the warmth of his fur almost instantly. Squirrelwhisker would be back fairly soon, and then Ashkit and Hootkit would be in safer paws. She'd see if she couldn't squirm her way into Sweetshine's nest after. "Happy huntings."

Adderpelt opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. The fur along his spine lifted.

"What?" she meowed, only half-awake.

He lifted a shaking paw to touch her throat.

Her stomach flip-flopped. Weaselstar hadn't thought too deep into how this must look beyond her terrified internal screaming about losing a life. "Oh. That. The meeting was a little... tense."

Adderpelt leaned over to sniff the wound, as if hoping to find answers there. "Was it... did Spiderstar..."

"No," she promised. Weaselstar could only imagine how horrible it would've been to find out that your father had tried to kill the mother of your kits. "It wasn't him, I promise. It was Beetooth."

He flinched, knowing all too well that the deputy would only do such a thing under orders. "Did you... did you lose a-"

"I'm fine," she snapped, then flinched at the hurt that flashed in Adderpelt's eyes. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I guess I'm more wound up than I thought." The black and white tom slowly stretched his chin out, pressing his forehead to the pink on her neck. A surge of anxiety fell over her at the touch, making her stiff and unresponsive. Was I this sensitive when my throat was healing as a kit? I don't remember. "Adderpelt?"

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked. His voice was soft and vulnerable. "You didn't tell me about ShadowClan, and now you won't tell me about this. Are you mad at me?"

"What? No, of course not."

Adderpelt's warm breath ghosted across her fur as he sighed. "I won't ask if you don't want me to, but this is important, Weaselstar. We're supposed to be raising these kids together, aren't we? We need to communicate better. You need to talk to me."

Weaselstar gave his skull an affectionate lick. "You're right. I'm sorry I can be so hardheaded," she said. "I don't think Spiderstar should be around the kids. Not until they're old enough to make up their own minds. He was already trying to force a divide between our litter and Sweetshine's, and if she'd stayed he probably would've killed us to get to them."

"That's fair," he said, nodding. "What'll we say when they ask?"

"I think what you said last night works really well. Grandpa and grandma want them to be safe, so they should stay in camp."

"Maybe. It'd be painting Spiderstar and Flintpoppy in a positive light, though."

"We can ease into that. Unless you think we should sit them down now?"

He grimaced. "Hmm, not the whole story. They don't need to know that grandpa and grandma tried to kill mom. Let's just say they don't like that we moved, and we had a fight over it. They've heard how Spiderstar reacts to cats he disagrees with by now."

"I'm sorry," she meowed, not for the first time. "You gave up so much for the kits. For me."

Adderpelt finally pulled away, blinking. "Honestly? I thought it'd be harder. But I love the kits, and I love you and Sweetshine. And even if I miss them once in a while, this is the happiest I think I've ever been." He gave her a solid shove, and Weaselstar let herself flop onto her side, laughing. "So quit being all woe-is-me, alright?"

She rolled her eyes, purring. "I'll consider it."

Chapter Text

"Come on, you guys!" snipped the freshly-named Hootpaw. She sank her teeth into Weaselstar's ear and tugged. Hard. "It's almost time for the dawn patrol! You promised we'd go see the borders today!"

Weaselstar moaned into her arm fur. "Adderpelt, your apprentice is trying to kill me."

"Better you than me," he murmured, rolling over.

Hootpaw puffed her cheeks out, tail lashing. "You can't lay around all day! Mom, tell them!"

Squirrelwhisker reached out and gave Weaselstar a solid kick. "Go."

"Why am I the one getting hurt?"

"You're closest. Get outta my den."

Oh, so it's her den now, Weaselstar thought, sitting up with a grumble. Beyond Hootpaw was Ashpaw, awkwardly half-squished out of the den, his yellow eyes glowing with nerves. She got the feeling he didn't like how Hootpaw was talking to their mentors.

"Up," she meowed, whapping Adderpelt's muzzle with her tail. "I won't be suffering alone."

Adderpelt, thankfully, got up without more fuss. Hootpaw ran eager circles around the tom as he hobbled out into the clearing, not awake enough to have his full footing yet. Weaselstar waited for Squirrelwhisker, but the ginger molly simply rolled over. I guess she's fine with us going on patrols without her. It wasn't like anything was going to happen. ShadowClan wasn't ready to fight for scent lines.

The chill of morning seeped into her fur as she padded into the open camp, finding it abysmally empty. The elders' den was looking better by the day, and from it she caught the mildest of snores. The warriors den sagged from a haphazardly patched hole, leaving it open to the base elements. The medicine den was squished flat; Dew had begun the painstaking process of bringing random plants into her home, most of which she wasn't even entirely certain were herbs, and tended to sleep curled up beside them, scraps everywhere. For all her complaining about Clan life, she really is trying.

The fresh-kill pile lay almost entirely empty. Fogfur sullenly batted a mouse between her paws as Weaselstar approached. Does she miss Nutstripe? The thought of the gentle tom made her heart ache. The gray tabby perked up as Hootpaw bounded closer, passing her the prey with a half-smile, half-grimace.

"I've been thinking," she announced, sitting up. "Leaf-bare isn't going to be easy, right? We're gonna have to hunt all day long."

"Don't remind me," Adderpelt grumbled, munching on a stringy shrew.

"What if we split the work up? Some warriors can go on dawn patrol, sleep, then go hunting at night- and the rest can do day-hunting and evening patrol! That way, we're always looking for food. We'll have to find something."

Weaselstar hesitated. It wasn't a bad idea, but she didn't think it'd be easy. How are cats going to sleep through the day? We'd have to make the den really dark somehow. And won't they feel left out? "It could work. It'd have to be a volunteer thing, though."

"I volunteer!"

"No, you don't." Fogfur lightly cuffed Hootpaw behind the ear. "You gotta focus on apprentice stuff, fluffy-brain!"

Hootpaw pouted. "No fair! We're ShadowClan. Night stuff is what we do!"

I'm glad she's excited to be here, Weaselstar thought, fixing a concerned look at her own apprentice. Ashpaw had willingly crouched beside her to eat, but had refused eye contact all together, chewing on a bone like it was the tastiest fresh-kill he'd ever had. "You alright?"

Her ears flickered uncertainly. Ashpaw had wide, deer-like eyes whenever she spoke to him. "Is it... is it going to be a long walk?"

"It'll feel like it at first. We can stay in camp, if you're not up to it."

"What if we run into predators?"

"We'll run."

"Rogues?"

"We'll run."

"Other Clan cats?"

"We'll probably run."

"We are making a great first impression today," Fogfur meowed. "Relax, kiddo. No one's expecting you to fight a badger on your first day."

Ashpaw breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Something clicked into place in Weaselstar's mind. Oh, right. These are Squirrelwhisker's kits. Squirrelwhisker wasn't the type to not talk crap about warriors she didn't like, regardless of who was close by. What have these kits heard about me?

She gently nudged him and stood, determined to prove she wasn't what they assumed. "Let's check some borders."

Greenleaf was slowly paving way for Leaf-fall. Above, the trees began to change colors, fire and gold and even a few stink bug browns. It would be time yet until they fell, and time still before Leaf-bare began to wreck its usual havoc. The leaves felt like ticking timers; reminders of what was to come. By Leaf-bare, the kits would be 'paws. The thought terrified and excited Weaselstar all at once. I haven't even thought up names for them.

Hootpaw and Ashpaw took the lead, just barely keeping in sight. Weaselstar was thankful that Ashpaw had begun to loosen up outside of camp, immersing himself in the smells of the forest he'd only seen from camp. Hootpaw's feet barely touched the ground as she hopped and spun and tackled, excitedly kneading the ground, Ashpaw's fur, anything she could get ahold of.

"Careful," Fogfur called. "We're getting close to the border!"

Hootpaw ducked through a bush, then came back out. "I found a huge flat rock!"

Weaselstar reluctantly sped up her pace. "That's probably the Thunderpath. Does it smell yucky?"

"It smells terrible," Ashpaw reported.

"Yup. Thunderpath."

Adderpelt carefully nudged his way between the stone and Hootpaw, flashing her a serious look. "Be careful. Monsters hunt here."

"I will be," she promised. "But I'll know when they're coming. They'll smell even worse!"

Weaselstar set a paw on the stone, ignoring the horrid stench that sunk into her fur. Gross. "Don't forget to touch the Thunderpath before crossing. Even If you can't smell the monster, you'll be able to feel it."

"Um, Weaselstar?" Fogfur sniffed warily at a clump of weeds. "I think we have bigger problems than monsters. Take a whiff."

She slowly opened her maw. A myriad of smells washed over her tongue. Bitter stone, muddy paws, and the faded hint of Ratpaw and Bumblepaw's marks. ThunderClan, weaker than the former but stronger than the latter. Spiderstar's warriors had been here recently. Irritation surged in her veins, clawing fruitlessly at the grass.

Hootpaw's shoulders grew solid as she glared across the border, scruff rising. "Are we gonna beat 'em up?"

"What? No. We'd lose."

"But they stepped on our territory!"

Adderpelt touched her side with his nose. "If Spiderstar wants to waste cats by having them run across the road to spite us, that's his problem."

"But we're ShadowClan!"

"We're a pawful of warriors in a trenchcoat," Weaselstar meowed. "I'm just as frustrated as you are, kiddo, but getting ourselves killed won't make ThunderClan realize they're wrong. Getting stronger will."

The brown and white tabby huffed, but her fur began to lie flat. Hootpaw stuck her tongue out. "Jerks."

Ashpaw crept along Weaselstar's side, ears low and anxious. "Why don't they treat us like a real Clan?"

"To them, we're not."

"But why not? We've got a leader and a medicine cat. We have dens and elders."

Fogfur shrugged. "You know what Spiderstar is like."

"Not really?"

"Oh, right. I forget you were never in ThunderClan."

Hootpaw perked up, nudging Ashpaw eagerly. "That makes us, like, the first full-time ShadowClan cats!"

"Huh," said Ashpaw, the tiniest of smiles coming across his muzzle. "I... guess it does."

They went more slowly towards RiverClan. Winding trees shielded them from the rays of Sunhigh as the warriors showed the 'paws the Greenleaf Twolegplace; it positively swarmed with Twolegs, nestling in their tents and monsters to rest. The faint scent of fire scorched Weaselstar's nose, making her eyes water. No doubt any viable prey had long left the area. Kits ran amok, batting their strange paws at bouncy stones. ThunderClan smell was here too.

Fogfur recoiled when one such stone got too close, hackles raised. "Spiderstar can keep this place for all I care. It's not right."

"They're camping," Weaselstar meowed, distantly remembering Dew explaining it to her. "I think they do it for fun? The fire is for burning up their prey."

Hootpaw's eyes sparkled curiously. "Why would they burn prey?"

"They eat it that way."

"Weird."

By the time they got to the older, quieter nest in the center of the territory, Hootpaw and Ashpaw were beginning to show their exhaustion. Hootpaw hardly even second-glanced the strange rocks shielding the den, and Ashpaw didn't even look concerned when something fluttered in one of its eyes. Weaselstar imagined they had gotten up fairly early to wake their mentors- and that was if they'd slept at all. Not much further and we'll all get to go back to bed.

Weaselstar pushed into a clearing just in time to watch, gobsmacked, as Ice Cube's familiar pelt hared after a shrew. She wasn't certain if she was impressed or angry. He's even further into Clan territory this time!

Fogfur didn't hold any such trepidation, jaws splitting in an earsplitting howl. "Trespasser!"

Ice Cube flinched and straightened, shrew in his jaws. He had the decency to look a little embarrassed. "Uhhhh... oops?"

"Should we chase him off? I feel like we should chase him off." Adderpelt seemed more confused than upset. "What's our protocol here, anyway?"

Ashpaw dived behind Weaselstar, fur standing on end. "You promised no fighting!"

She carefully wound her tail around his trembling shoulders. "No fighting. Our new friend is just going to put the fresh-kill down and leave. Isn't he?"

"Am I?" he meowed, but set the shrew down. Ice Cube trotted over to them with a surprisingly chipper attitude, considering he'd just lost lunch. "Are forest cats supposed to be this scrawny? It's summer. Food's everywhere."

Fogfur snorted derisively. "Unlike some cats, we don't live off of scraps."

"Food's food." The gray-and-white tom tilted his head slightly to look at Ashpaw and Hootpaw. Ashpaw managed a feeble hiss. Hootpaw said nothing, simply snarling at him. "Man, I know a bunch of cats who'd wanna know about you guys. You're all so shhhh."

Thinking quickly, Weaselstar took a pointed step towards him. "And I'd be more than happy to answer them, but only if they consider joining us."

"What?" Fogfur squeaked, jaw dropping. "Weasel, this is a rogue. They're all gonna be rogues and kittypets and-"

"We need more warriors."

"We'll give birth to more."

"Relying on blood just leads to inbreeding," she shot back. Ice Cube was blinking at her like she had a second head. "I seem to recall you owing me a dinner. I'll wait here tomorrow night."

Ice Cube's pelt bushed out with excitement. "Yes! Yes, this'll be so cool!" The loner turned and sprinted back from whence he came, calling over his shoulder; "See you then, forest cat!"

"This is a stupid idea," Fogfur chipped in, scowling. "It's a stupid idea and when it fails I'm going to rub your nose in it."

Adderpelt came up on her side and gave her a pointed look. "I know we just had this whole talk on boundaries, but..."

"I honestly forgot about it. I didn't think he'd come back or anything."

"Well, he did."

"I know. He's got guts. Maybe his friends will too."

Chapter Text

"Do you have to go?" Featherkit whined. "I caught you a grasshopper."

"I can stay for a grasshopper," Weaselstar compromised, feeling pride tugging at her heart. It's almost as big as her! She reached down and plucked a single leg, making sure to let out a noise of content as she chewed. "I know I haven't been here as much lately, and I'm really sorry. How about tomorrow we all have a big playday? We can go hang out in the training field."

Larkkit squirmed out from under Sweetshine's paws. "Can we? Can we? I bet I can catch two grasshoppers!"

"Not if I catch them first!"

"Who cares?" Elmkit snapped. Her brown and white fur stuck out and around like a particularly grumpy pinecone. "Mama's gonna stink like kittypet when she gets back. All the grasshoppers'll run away!"

Weaselstar's ears flattened at her tone. "They smell weird sometimes, yeah, but that doesn't mean they aren't good cats. Your grandma was a loner, and so was your grandpa." She bent down to boop their noses together. "That makes you half-loner."

"Maybe, but we were born wild!" Elmkit rolled onto her back, legs lolling around. "They're gonna be all soft and squishy."

She sounds like Spiderstar, she thought, displeased. Weaselstar couldn't blame the kit; she was only parroting what she'd been taught. That just means I need to try harder, and show her why that's not right. "Well, we'll be giving them the chance to become wild, if they wanna be. And maybe we'll learn a little bit of being soft and squishy in return. I think it'll be a lot of fun."

Elmkit squinted at her shrewdly. "I bet I can catch five grasshoppers."

"And I bet I can eat them all," Weaselstar returned, flicking her tail over her face and barely dodging some little paws. She traded a quick nuzzle with Sweetshine, then Adderpelt. I need to spend more time with them, too. "I should be back pretty early on. I'll be surprised if anyone actually shows up."

"Safe travels?" Adderpelt offered hesitantly. "If things look dicey, start chanting about bones in your nest. I hear that works."

"Most cats find me intimidating. Can't imagine why."

The clearing was empty as Weaselstar entered it, buffeted by the slightest bit of chill. Grasshoppers and cicadas alike both shrieked into the gloom, daring kits and warriors alike to snatch them up for dinner. She was a bit surprised that none of her warriors had come to stop her. I guess they know how stubborn I can be. They'll probably gang up on me in the morning when I'm sleepy.

"Weaselstar!"

Or not.

She turned to watch as Bumblepaw and Ratpaw approached, tailtip twitching. "Listen, kids. I respect your concerns for ShadowClan, but can we please just wait until we know if it's even an is-"

"Can we come?" Bumblepaw blurted out. Weaselstar's jaw dropped. "It just doesn't make sense to have our leader go all alone to enemy territory, you know? I'm sure you'll be safe, but being in a Clan is being cared for."

"And this way, none of the warriors have to leave," Ratpaw tacked on. "So the camp is still plenty protected."

Weaselstar studied the two 'paws. They were well old enough for their names at this point- they'd been apprentices back when she was, albeit very new ones. Ratpaw's black coat was sleek and shiny, and he met her gaze evenly. This wasn't the same tom who'd been unable to grow back in ThunderClan. Bumblepaw was shorter but just as stocky, muscular, with a fire in her eyes.

She dipped her head. "I'd be honored to have you two along."

Ice Cube was waiting for her, bouncing on the pads of his feet like a kitten getting its favorite piece of prey. His eyes lit up as she approached. "Howdy, neighbor!" he meowed, nuzzling her with a purr. He took in the two glaring apprentices with no less enthusiasm. "Ah, excuse me. Neighbors."

"This is Ratpaw and Bumblepaw. They're here mostly to be nosy and suspicious of everything."

He shook his head, baffled. "Weird names. Let's go going- if we keep a steady pace, we'll be there by midnight. And you can tell me how those names work on the way!"

It's a decently long walk, though Weaselstar wouldn't call it particularly interesting. Just beyond ShadowClan came a long stretch of fields, which twisted into the shortest line of trees she'd ever laid eyes on. Following that was a Thunderpath- it was used more often, judging by the smell, and its pelt held bright streaks the other one didn't.

From there it was endless lines of Twoleg dens, each as sharp and imposing as the last. Weaselstar shook off feelings of unease as they wound through wooden slats she recognized, distantly, to be how Twolegs make their territories known. A sudden dog bark made Ratpaw jump, pelt sticking out wildly, but he quickly shook himself and stumbled on. She was proud of how well they adapted to the strange environment, and especially of their bravery. Birchfoot has done good for these two.

Eventually, they found themselves in a dark path between two dens, ending with a strong den wall behind it. Strange rectangles littered the side, reeking of things far worse than any crowfood. Ice Cube wrinkled his nose but pushed on, ending at a smaller hole kept still by bricks. Over it was a cloth, draped haphazardly, by some wandering Twoleg. It just barely covered the entrance.

"It's a trash can," Ice Cube meowed, catching her look. The gray and white tom raised his voice. "Pringles, I'm back! And I brought friends!"

The can shifted slightly as something inside it sat up. The cloth rose as a scrawny yellow and brown tom appeared, eyes wide with surprise. "They actually came?" He blinked at them. "Wow. So you did. You've got balls."

"Everyone, this is my husband, Pringles." Ice Cube padded over to stand beside them, whiskers twitching with humor. "Pringles, this is Weaselstar, Bumblepaw, and Ratpaw. They tried to explain it to me, but I still don't get their weird naming thing, so please don't ask me."

Pringles dipped his head, still looking very, very confused. Weaselstar got a natural nervous aura from him- not paranoid, necessarily, but not too interesting in making new friends in the middle of the night, either. Fair enough. "Well, hello there. I'd offer you a snack or something, but trash day was yesterday. Um, if I may be crude- why do you look like a weedwhacker ate you?"

Ratpaw squeaked in outrage, but Weaselstar waved him off with her tail. "Fair enough. We came here to answer questions, and I'm sure I look pretty concerning at first glance." She tilted her head so he could see better. "I had a bit of an accident as a kitten, and this happened to my neck."

"It's not some sort of screwed-up initiation?"

She snorted. "Hardly."

"Well," he mumbled, looking embarrassed. "Now I just feel like a douche."

"Hey, it's alright. The whole point of this is to wash away those stereotypes."

Ice Cube leaned closer to his husband conspiratorially. "She's a mom too, buddy. Smell her kit-fluff?"

"It's my breath, isn't it?" Weaselstar calmly sat down, winding her tail around her haunches. "Sorry about that. I ate grasshopper before I came."

"Ah. Good. The kits are actually really interested in you guys. Though, I should warn you, they have my sense of tact." Pringles smiled apologetically before twisting his head around. "Babies! The bone-cats are here!"

As if summoned, a blur of yellow and white appeared over the lip of the can, tiny twig tail sticking up curiously. "Bone-cats! Do you really eat bones? Do you really sleep on bones? Do you-" the kitten paused. "Aw, you guys look normal. Well, except for her. Did a doggy chew up your face, miss?"

Weaselstar's ears flattened a little with poorly concealed amusement. As awkward as the question was, she preferred it over cats tip-toeing around her face scars. "Nope. Just an accident."

"I told you they weren't gonna be covered in bones," chipped in a gray kitten, which met their gaze with cautious curiosity. Their tiny ears were folded against their skull. "Hi. I'm Pavement. This is my sibling, Pickle. He/they, please."

"Oh, right," said Pickle. "Ae/aer, please."

"At least ae's learning to say please," Ice Cube chimed in affectionately.

"I'm here too," chipped in a brown and white tabby, yawning. Little claws poked out of her paws, clicking against the ground. "I'm Clock. My paws make click-clicks."

The last kitten was all brown, and built like twigs. She squinted up at all of them, muzzle glowing with a bright white stripe. All of the kittens seemed to have one. "I'm Kitkat. I wanna go back to bed?"

"It is pretty late," fretted Pringles, bending down to pick her up. "Let me put the kids down for bed before the others get here."

Bumblepaw stared at him. "Others?"

"I told you I'd tell other cats."

"Yeah, but we didn't think anybody would show up."

They came within the hour; a marbled light brown tabby. Their fur was fluffy and long, with special focus given to their thick scruff and feathery tail. Weaselstar couldn't imagine the kind of hairballs a warrior would get trying to sink their teeth in. The tinkly pink collar almost seemed like a joke, daring anyone to try anything.

"Nice to see you, Taco!" Ice Cube greeted. "Is Teddy with you?"

"And they think our names are weird?" Bumblepaw muttered to Ratpaw.

A ginger tom hopped down behind Taco; the definition of a kittypet. His fur was long and smooth, but his size was almost entirely pudge. He had gentle eyes and an easily embarrassed smile. "Hiya, guys."

Ice Cube flicked his tail in the ginger's direction. "Weaselstar, this is Teddy Bear. He was the most interested out of anyone I asked."

"Folks call me Ted," he meowed. "I hope you don't mind I came. I'm... probably not what you were expecting."

"You want to join a Clan?" Ratpaw's nose twitched. He approached Ted, head twisting like a ferret. "You look pretty happy as a kittypet."

Taco took a small step forward, smiling. "We like to help where we can. I was just gonna spread whatever info I got tonight, but Ted's always been more paws-on."

"I don't mind goin' hungry," Ted added quickly. "I know wild cats can't get food every day like we can."

Weaselstar decided against agreeing to him request so quickly. He's eager to please. Maybe a little bit older than Ratpaw and Bumblepaw, but not as old as me. He doesn't know what a Clan is yet. "Is this it?"

"Yup." Taco popped the P. "There's a coupla loners near our house that are curious, but they were too skittish to come so soon after what happened to Melon." Pringles flinched, shoulders bunching.

Ice Cube was by his side in a flash, grooming an ear. "His sister," he murmured to the Clan cats.

Pringles met their gaze with somber resolve. "The kids' mother."

"And not just Melon. Little Lily vanished three days ago. She was talking to some suspicious cats. Cats that smelled like the woods."

Weaselstar felt a chill run down her spine. Is Spiderstar... taking loners? Again? She slowly dipped her head. "I know what this must look like, but I can promise you it wasn't us."

"Oh, we know," meowed Ice Cube, smug. "I spied on your weird little den-place. Not a sniff of either of them."

"I can't promise their comfort, but I can say they're likely unharmed. This... sort of thing happened to my parents. You might've met them? Dew and..." She racked her brain, but couldn't find her father's loner name. "A guy who looked a lot like me, I guess."

Pringles ear twitched dismissively. "Flat-faced and blue? I used to see her around. I just figured she got sick of this place and skipped town."

She did. She still wants to. Weaselstar bit down a lifetime of bitterness. "I'll be able to find out more soon. For now, let's sit and chat, shall we?"

Chapter Text

"Show me the paw thing again!" Ted urged, eyes glowing.

Bumblepaw blew a raspberry. "It's easy! You just reach out and-" She brought a paw down hard on the bridge of his nose, claws sheathed. "See? It stuns you, doesn't it? It's a good way to run away from someone."

"That's so cool," he slurred around the intrusion. "Hey, Taco, y'think this'll work on the dog?"

The brown tabby laughed, tail flicking his nose affectionately. "You'd have to be tall enough to reach him, first."

Weaselstar huffed as she wiped her tired face with a paw. The night had gone by quick, but had left her drained. She hadn't been asked so many questions in her life. Simple things came easily enough- names, prey, where they might live. But then there was a lot of harder, more painful ones: will we really not be allowed to speak to anyone outside the Clan? You won't force us to listen to that star dookey, will you? How will you keep our kits safe? The last one was the hardest- because, deep down, she couldn't offer them half of what a Twoleg home could. Stable food, warmth, comfortable nests- all she could offer was companionship and loyalty.

"You alright?" Ratpaw meowed, settling down beside her. The black 'paw had fur twisted and fluffed from showing the alley cats some basic warrior moves.

"Just wondering if this was worth it," she admitted. "If anyone will even come."

"Ted seems pretty interested."

Weaselstar shrugged. She still wasn't entirely convinced it wasn't a fad on his end. "Maybe."

Ice Cube padded over with a huge yawn, whiskers fanning out. "Well, it's getting late. Early? It's sleepy time."

"Of course." She dipped her head. Weaselstar's body groaned in protest as she stood, sore. She couldn't wait to get away from all this hard stone. "Thank you for having us."

"Are you gonna join?" Ratpaw asked, surprising her. He's so much bolder when he's allowed to be himself.

Ice Cube's muzzle twisted into a conflicted frown. "I dunno. Maybe? That's somethin' me and Pringle will have to talk out."

"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. I know it's not the safest life."

"Not safe here, either." The loner shrugged. "At least with you I know they'll have playmates, and food that doesn't have rot in it. Truth be told, if it was just me, I'd have joined a while back."

"But it's not."

"Right. And I want to do right by my man and my kids, you know?"

"I know," Weaselstar meowed, remembering her promise to take the kittens to the clearing. No sleep for me today. "There's a Gathering coming up soon. I'll keep my eyes open for your missing cats."

Bumblepaw, perhaps sensing the shift in the air, turned and scrambled back to Ratpaw's side. Weaselstar couldn't help but admire how she'd handled the kittypets' pestering. She'll make a good mentor someday soon. Her eyes slid to Ratpaw, patient and waiting. They both will.

"Oh," said Ted, beginning to stand up. "We're leaving?"

Weaselstar held up her paw. "Slow down a bit there. You can't come back to camp with us this soon."

Ted's ears fell flat. He looked disappointed. "I can't? Is it because I couldn't out-box Bumblepaw?"

He's sweet. Overeager, but sweet. The warrior moved to bump noses with him, and felt the rusty tom's muscles relax. "I'm giving you all a moon to make your decision." Ted opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "And even if you feel like you've decided, I want you to think it over really hard. You'd be giving up a lot, and saying goodbye to even more."

Taco reached out to press their pelts together. "C'mon, Teddy. Did you even tell your grandpa you were out here?"

"Oh. Right. Grandpa." Ted sheepishly bowed his head. "I'll see you guys again soon, alright?"

"Soon," Weaselstar agreed, wishing she could believe it.

The sun was just beginning to rise as they crested the final field to ShadowClan. Dovefrost's white pelt gleamed in the dim light as she came to join them, waving her tail in a friendly manner.

"No training for you two today," she told Bumblepaw and Ratpaw. "Why don't you kids go on ahead and grab something from the fresh-kill pile? Weasel and I need some words."

Bumblepaw headbutted Ratpaw and took off. "Race ya!"

"Hey, no fair!" he called, and laughed, and followed.

Dovefrost turned to her with a flick of her ears. "Weasel-"

"I know, alright? You don't agree with this." She brushed past with a roll of her eyes. "Look, we can have this conversation when I've slept properly, okay?"

The white molly easily kept pace with her. "Don't put words in my mouth."

"But you do hate this."

"Oh, I hate it a lot. But my personal biases don't make the idea any less necessary. I'd rather have soft kittypet paws changing my moss every day than I would the entire Clan dying out in a few generations. Inbreeding is a big enough concern in a full-sized Clan. Warriors always used to mock my mother for mating with someone from another Clan, but it's better for us to have the odd scandal than have everyone mesh together."

Weaselstar shot Dovefrost a furtive glance. She'd never liked talking about her parentage, but everyone knew that ThunderClan and RiverClan's rivalry had begun with a ThunderClan queen being exiled- her mentor's mother. "I always forget you're part RiverClan."

Dovefrost rolled her shoulders. "Meh. I've got the thick pelt, but not much else." The senior warrior carefully cut Weaselstar off, forcing her to make eye contact. "I'm not the one you need to talk to."

The camp was full of warriors when she returned- or, well, as full as it got. Squirrelwhisker was sharing her namesake with Ashpaw and Hootpaw, telling what she could only guess was a long-winded tale. Fogfur and Birchfoot playfully wrestled nearby, rolling and laughing. Adderpelt listened intently to the older 'paws as they sleepily bungled through their story. Even Pinethroat and Mossytooth had left their warm nests, lounging all stretched out together in the chill.

The bustle only made Weaselstar's ears flatten with worry. "She hasn't left her den all night?"

"Nope." Dovefrost nudged her. "Go talk to your mom. I can handle patrols."

"Thank you."

"Hey, that's what deputies are for."

Weaselstar took the short trot through the camp, grateful when no one attempted to stop her for conversation. She pushed through the awkwardly-bent entrance to the lopsided den and paused, taking it in. The air reeked of plants, which were all over. Some in bundles, some in corners, some in tattered. She saw a small hole of what looked to be smashed berries and shuddered, wondering if they were rejects of juniper. In the furthest corner of the room was Dew, laying with her back to the wall in a ratty nest.

"Mom?" she meowed, stepping forward. "Mom, I heard-"

Dew turned a golden eye on her. It was wary. "How many hostages did you bring back?"

Weaselstar felt cold water rush down her spine. Does she really think I'd force cats into Clan life? "I didn't! I just-"

"Went out at night. Went with more than one cat. I know."

"Bumblepaw and Ratpaw asked to come with! And I didn't hurt to have them along, so I-"

"And I'm sure everyone was so comfortable saying no to a grizzly bear and her stooges."

"Why do you always assume the worst of me?" Weaselstar snapped, scruff rising.

That gave Dew pause. She finally turned around, looking at least ten seasons older than when Weaselstar had left the night before. "Spiderstar always said that things were voluntary. That you could always say no." She lashed her tail. "Your father is what happened when you say no."

Weaselstar could sense the beginnings of a speech coming on, but she was too hurt to listen. "Well, I'm not Mudcloud. And I'm not Spiderstar. And maybe one day you'll realize that." She whirled around, fighting back the sadness that threatened to swallow it whole. "If you'll excuse me, I made a promise to my kits."

"Wee-mama, watch! I'm gonna get Ashpaw!" Honeykit chirped.

Ashpaw's pelt frizzled. "You're gonna what?" he squeaked, before taking off. Honeykit quickly gave chase, followed by Elmkit. Larkkit and Featherkit had secluded themselves away from the mess, picking and trading flowers. Spottedkit had commandeered the watching stone, loafing on it with her eyes lidded comfortably.

"Oooh, I've missed the feel of fresh grass." Sweetshine sprawled out on her side with a sigh, belly up. She batted Weaselstar's ears with a back paw. "Hey. Hey. No napping."

"I'm awake," she meowed, chin on her paws. "Just thinking up some warrior names for Ratpaw and Bumblepaw."

"So soon?"

"Not right now; probably some time next moon. They handled themselves like warriors last night." Weaselstar paused, considering. "I think they'd make good mentors to some of the kids."

Sweetshine rolled so she was beside Weaselstar, paws in the air. "Any ideas for the kids?"

"Nothing certain. I know Featherkit wants a tough-sounding name. I want to give Larkkit a name for her bubbly personality."

"Larkkit and Honeykit want similar names."

"Really? They never told me."

She shrugged. "You never asked."

Weaselstar felt a pulse of guilt, thinking of Dew and how distant she'd always been. I'm missing them growing up. "I'm sorry, Sweetshine. I know I left a lot of the childcare to you and Adderpelt."

"Yeah, you did. But they're going to be apprentices in a couple of moons." The grass shifted, and then Sweetshine was above her, paws next to her head. Their noses barely brushed. "I won't be a queen forever, you know. I'll be a warrior. And I have opinions about what happens in my Clan."

"You have opinions now," she replied. "You don't have to wait to tell them to me. I know I've not been the best of one, but I'm a queen too."

Her amber eyes glittered with amusement. "Hmmm, nah. I won't say. Make you wait." Sweetshine pointedly looked in the direction of a bush. "I'll give you a little hint on what I'm thinking about now, though."

Weaselstar flattened her head against the ground, sending the field upside down. Elmkit and Honeykit were tumbling off to the side, batting noses and tugging on ears, but beyond that was Featherkit. Her little black paws carefully sprinkled flowers onto Ashpaw's head as he struggled not to sneeze. A shriveled lily tucked behind his ear as he laughed along with something she said.

"Oh," said Weaselstar, breath catching.

"Yeah," said Sweetshine, smiling. "Oh."

Chapter Text

"Mom," whined Hootpaw. The young 'paw was awkwardly bundled up in front of Squirrelwhisker, taking sharp licks to the ears and face. "I'm old enough to groom myself."

"Shut up and sit up," the ginger molly snapped. Ashpaw winced beside her. Weaselstar didn't think whiskers got straighter than what had become of his. "This is your first impression to the other Clans. You need to look perfect."

Elmkit poked her head and front paws over Adderpelt's side. She was pouting. "Lucky. I wanna go to the Gathering."

Adderpelt bumped their noses together. "Don't worry. I'll tell you kids so many stories, it'll be like you're there."

"But I wanna meet new cats. There's hardly anyone here." Her ears went flat. "It's not fair. How come Ashpaw and Hootpaw can go?"

"Because we're six moons old," Hootpaw replied. "Well, we are now."

"We're already over halfway there!" she argued back. "Four moons is old enough to walk to the lake and back. Mom, tell her!"

Weaselstar felt a twinge of humor as she licked Elmkit's cheek. It made her indescribably giddy to know her kits were looking forward to being apprentices. "Won't be much longer now. You'll be 'paws when the first snow sticks."

The tabby glared at her but didn't argue. "Promise?"

"I promise." She gave her a little nuzzle and turned to murmur in Adderpelt's ear. "Thank you for staying."

He shook his head. "I wouldn't want to come tonight anyway. Dad would probably try to force me to come back to ThunderClan."

"Don't remind me," she grumbled, stomach twisting with nerves. They bumped her heads together before separating, Weaselstar padding up to the two 'paws. "Don't go wandering far tonight, alright? Things are going to be tense."

Hootpaw lashed her tail. "If anyone kicks up a fuss, I'll just tell 'em like it is. I'm ShadowClan and proud of it!"

"Be proud of your Clan," she agreed. "But don't be a mouse-brain."

"Are you giving these little warnings out to everyone, or is it just my kids?" Squirrelwhisker purposely stepped in front of Hootpaw, eyes narrowed. "We're not the problem here. We shouldn't have to throw away our dignity because ThunderClan's got a mole up their tails."

Weaselstar bared a fang. "I'm not saying we shouldn't defend ourselves. ShadowClan has every right to speak alongside everyone else. All I'm telling you is to be wary and double-check any dark bushes."

Squirrelwhisker snarled wordlessly and pushed out of the nursery. Hootpaw chased after with a huff at her mother's lack of tact. Ashpaw slowly came to stand beside her, head low and ears even lower. "Sorry about her."

"It's fine. She's always had prickers in her pelt."

"But you're our leader. She should respect that, at least."

Weaselstar flicked an ear dismissively. As angry as Squirrelwhisker was at her personally, she also doubted she would respect any leader younger than the her. It could be Hootpaw or Ashpaw getting their nine lives and she'd still be overriding them. "It's not a big deal. She hates the other Clans more than she does me. I know I can trust her to be loyal to the bog."

She gave the apprentice a nudge and entered the clearing after him. The Gathering patrol was horribly small. Dovefrost, Birchfoot, and Adderpelt had opted to stay in camp in case of attack- if nothing else, they could scoop up the kits and guide the elders to safety. Squirrelwhisker and Fogfur sat side by side, eyeing each other with mutual dislike. Sweetshine was laughing at something Bumblepaw mewed, her white fur glowing in the fading light. Hootpaw traded a goodbye with Ratpaw before joining- the 'paw had requested to stay behind this moon, and Weaselstar respected that.

Ashpaw studied them a moment before turning to her. "Is Dew...?"

"She's morally against Gatherings," Weaselstar replied. Truth be told, she hadn't spoken to her mother since returning the night before. She had no idea what Dew felt about going as a medicine cat. No time to think about that now. "Let's get moving."

The journey to the lake itself went without incident. Weaselstar took in a deep breath and caught the tang of fish on the breeze. "RiverClan?"

"Must be waiting for us," Sweetshine hummed. "Probably wants to make sure we didn't die in the last moon."

"How thoughtful of them."

Sure enough, as the Small Thunderpath melted into the Greenleaf Twolegplace, a hefty patrol of RiverClan cats appeared over the horizon, led by Briarstar. The brown and white molly was looking thinner, no doubt beginning to feel the beginnings of fish decline. She stood as they approached, but didn't dip her head. It was a bit like walking up to someone and having them acknowledge you, but refuse to shake your hand.

"Evenin'," she meowed. "Settling in okay?"

Is it better to lie and leave her guessing? Oh, but she could see that was weakness and take advantage. Weaselstar hesitantly nodded. "It's going alright."

She gestured for the patrol to begin moving with her tail. "Neat."

ShadowClan and RiverClan mingled on the edges as they made their way to the tree-bridge. None of the warriors felt particularly comfortable around each other- not after the tragedy of Antpaw- but Hootpaw raced between cats and called excited greetings; and Weaselstar, knowing the insults were coming, had just barely managed to glare Squirrelwhisker into submission.

Briarstar hung back from her own warriors, slowing down step by step until she was walking with Weaselstar. The brown molly's fur rippled with anxiety at her close proximity. Am I really going to have to do this every moon? I'm going to go white before I'm old!

"Quick talk," Briarstar meowed finally. "Leader to leader."

Weaselstar couldn't stop herself. "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing or how to talk to you."

The brown and white molly chuckled. "Anyone coulda told you that. Settle down, rebel, I ain't got beef with you yet." Briarstar waved a paw towards the front of the group. "You need a medicine cat, yeah? I've got one of those."

"I... don't follow?"

"It's easy. You send a 'paw to RiverClan for the Leaf-fall and Leaf-bare, and Webflower trains 'em up for you. She's been climbing the walls without Raggedpaw to teach. Newleaf comes and you get a full-grown medicine cat."

"Isn't sending a cat away in the cold moons kind of... counterproductive?"

She shrugged. "Gotta be better than sticking random plants to cats and hoping they work, yeah?"

"I guess. That's just..." Weaselstar made a vague noise and stared at her paws, thinking. It was a good offer. A generous offer. "What does RiverClan get out of it?"

"Now yer talking like a leader," Briarstar meowed, smiling in such a way that her teeth stuck out. "Of course, we'd need ShadowClan to bring the apprentice food. We can't do the hunting for them. And, of course, we'd need extra to trust you enough to let you bring it. We'll all be going hungry in the cold- and the hard times are when we should all be kind to each other."

That's ShadowClan food! Weaselstar felt a sting of irritation, but couldn't deny the point. Briarstar's just trying to feed her warriors. It's what any leader would do. And getting trained by a Clan-blooded medicine cat would help our credibility in the eyes of the other Clans. "Just... let me think on it."

Briarstar dipped her head. "Look alive, rebel. We're here."

Weaselstar opened her jaws, letting the scent of WindClan coat her tongue. Man, they're fast. Briarstar let ShadowClan cross first, an honor Weaselstar knew not to argue. The many branches of the oak tree seemed to reach their fingers out towards her as she approached, struck by how large it truly was. I know I was up here last moon, but I didn't get to savor it. She set a paw on a root, flexing her claws experimentally. This really is something.

"You should sit by Rainstar," Briarstar meowed, making her jump. The RiverClan leader looked less impressed.

"Really? But you and Rainstar usually-"

She glared at her. "Best to keep distance between you and Spiderstar for now."

"Oh. Right. Thanks."

"Mmhm." Briarstar bunched up her muscles and jumped, sitting on the branch nearest to Rainstar's. The gap between the two felt glaring as she awkwardly scrambled up, foot slipping on a wayward leaf. Rainstar grabbed her by the scruff and hauled her up.

"Thanks," she meowed, pelt hot with embarrassment. Some great impression I'm making. Can't even get up here right.

"Relax, it happens. My last deputy tripped and face-planted; got a thorn up his nose." Rainstar's whiskers twitched with amusement. "Remember, lift your chin when you speak. The canopy makes your voice louder, but only if you're pointing at it."

Weaselstar felt like an apprentice all over again. Does every new leader get this spiel, or am I just being spoiled because I piss Spiderstar off? "Oh. Um. Thanks?"

The rustling of leaves heralded ThunderClan as they finally emerged. Spiderstar shot over the tree-bridge with grim vigor, followed close behind by Beetooth and Flintpoppy. Mintfern broke away almost instantly from the herd to go to the other medicine cats, no doubt to express her newest experiments and theories. Brackenpelt and Smokescar followed two cats Weaselstar didn't recognize- a creamy yellow molly and a smaller, white molly- and quickly gestured for a small gray tom to follow. Are those the cats who went missing from the Twolegplace? But there was only supposed to be two of them!

Rainstar leaned in close. "One last bit of advice. You should never attack someone at a Gathering... but you can certainly tell them what you think of them."

Spiderstar surveyed the roots of the oak, then the branches. He hopped up beside Briarstar with a snort. "Really, Weaselstar? No deputy or medicine cat? You might as well not be up here at all."

"Funny you of all cats should say that," Rainstar meowed, and winked at Weaselstar.

Realization hit Weaselstar like a monster. I don't have to be nice to him anymore. I don't have to be scared of him anymore. She lifted her chin and curled her tail around her paws. "ShadowClan has every right to celebrate. We've got a lot to be proud of."

"Sure you do," he said. "Might as well call this Gathering to order then. Who wants to go first? Weaselstar? Why don't you tell us all about your whopping four cats and the dustballs?"

The clearing collectively went silent. Weaselstar felt every pair of eyes on her, and it didn't fell good. Focus. Don't fall off this tree branch. Do you realize how dumb you will look if you fall off this tree branch? "Sure," she said through grit teeth. "Things are going well for ShadowClan. We've established a good community, and soon we'll be even stronger. We've recently had two new apprentices; Ashpaw and Hootpaw."

The world seemed to erupt at her paws. It was as invigorating as it was terrifying. "Hootpaw! Ashpaw! Hootpaw! Ashpaw!" Ashpaw seemed frazzled under all the attention, but didn't shrink away, smiling sheepishly. Hootpaw puffed out her chest.

Rainstar hummed. "Squirrelwhisker's kits, if I'm not wrong. It's nice to see ShadowClan won't be throwing away decent warriors to save its fragile ego."

Spiderstar hissed under his breath.

"They are," she agreed. Weaselstar considered making a reference to potential future Clanmates, but decided against it. What if no one joins? That'd be embarrassing. "ShadowClan has nothing else to report."

"Are you sure about that?" Briarstar pressed. "That scratch looks pretty new."

The fur along Weaselstar's spine lifted. Mouse-dung! I forgot all about that. She forced herself to shrug. "Just a petty little squabble. It's all over now."

"Suppose I'll go next, then," the RiverClan leader said. "Not much to say on my end. The Greenleaf Twolegplace is finally starting to clear out again, and prey is swimming fast. That's about it."

Rainstar immediately went next, cutting Spiderstar off. "We got a whiff of fox in WindClan territory, but it was pretty faint. We think they were pups of RiverClan's fox. We chased the scrawny little things off without incident."

"Ironic," Spiderstar meowed. "RiverClan and WindClan having such close connections."

"If you're going to accuse someone of something, you should do it plainly," Rainstar replied. "WindClan has nothing else to report."

"Good, because I have a LOT to say," Spiderstar stamped a paw down on the branch. "ThunderClan has two new warriors and an apprentice! We welcome Melonfrost, Bubblestone, and Littlepaw to our ranks."

There was an awkward pause as cats craned their heads around to see two adult cats they'd never heard of before. Bubblestone, the gray tom, straightened up. Melonfrost hardly bothered to notice, letting Littlepaw duck into her fur. That's gotta be the kits' mother. But she doesn't look like she's in danger at all. "How did all this come about?"

"ThunderClan's business is ThunderClan's business." Spiderstar brushed her off with a roll of his eyes. "Plumpetal has recently given birth to two kits; Brownkit and Cinderkit. You lot better chant my new warriors' names as well."

A stilted, awkward litany broke out from below. It sounded less like chanting and more like questioning. "Melonfrost? Bubblestone? Littlepaw? Brownkit? Cinderkit?"

Spiderstar smiled at the crowd, then at Weaselstar, looking every bit like the dad he was, once. "I'm getting stronger, neighbor. And all you're getting is colder. I'd watch your back, if I was you. ThunderClan's future is looking bright."

Right, Weaselstar realized, stomach sinking low to her paws. I do still have to be afraid of him.

Chapter Text

I really should've cleaned first.

Weaselstar paced the dusty leader's den. She hadn't stepped paw into the den since the night she saw ShadowClan's demise. Scraps of moss were shoved into corners, covered with cobwebs. She kicked aside what looked like a squirrel bone and sat down, tailtip twitching. She'd picked this den because it was solitary and private, but now it just felt like a snub.

The dried lichen shifted as Bumblepaw shoved her nose through it. "Weasel? You asked to see us?"

"Uh, yeah." Weaselstar awkwardly gestured to the messy dirt in front of her. "Come on in."

Bumblepaw turned her head to gesture to Ratpaw. The apprentices crept inside with equal parts trepidation and confusion, sniffing at the destroyed den like it was a badger ready to strike. Weaselstar waited for them to settle in, feeling more embarrassed by the second.

"Did we do something wrong?" Ratpaw asked, eventually.

"No, nothing like that. It's, uh, the opposite, really." Weaselstar blinked at them hopefully. Recognition didn't pass either face. She heaved a sigh. "I was hoping to get some suggestions from the two of you. For, uh, for your names."

Bumblepaw's jaw dropped. "Our warrior names?"

"Yeah. Those."

Ratpaw tilted his head to the side. "But... aren't you supposed to pick those out for us?"

"Probably, but I got my name chosen for me, and it wasn't exactly a great experience. I want my warriors to have names they'll be proud to bear." Weaselstar shrugged, pelt hot. Leaders always make warrior ceremonies seem so easy. "Any suggestions are welcome- things you want, things you don't like, whatever."

Bumblepaw and Ratpaw traded a look. Ratpaw cleared his throat. "Well, um. I was kind of hoping to be named after Birchfoot."

"Birchfoot?"

"Yeah. He gave up a lot for us, you know? He didn't have to leave ThunderClan, or train me on top of Bumblepaw." The black tom's tail swished. "I think he's the closest thing I've got to a good paternal figure."

"I'll bring it up to him just in case, but I'm sure he'll be honored," she promised, feeling a smidge of misplaced pride. Weaselstar didn't kid herself thinking she had anything to do with Ratpaw's new lease on life, but it was satisfying to witness. "Bumblepaw?"

Bumblepaw jumped. "Oh. Right. Me?" She glanced around, as if trying to draw ideas out from thin air. "I dunno! I like names based on personalities, I guess. I wouldn't wanna spend the rest of my life as Bumblenight or something just because my fur is dark."

Weaselstar dipped her head. She'd cobbled together a few backup names just in case either apprentice couldn't come up with anything concrete. "Alrighty, that's what I needed. And, uh- if you kids ever want to change your name, tell me? You don't need a dark backstory to get sick of a name."

"Kids," scoffed Bumblepaw, rolling her eyes. "You're only a couple of moons older than us, Weasel."

"Ah, trust me, I feel every one of those moons in my back." She gave them a lopsided smile. "Alright, that's it. Go join up with Birchfoot. He's waiting to start your assessments."

"Already?" Bumblepaw's ears flew back with surprise. "I wasn't expecting- I haven't even sharpened my claws yet!"

Ratpaw laughed and poked her shoulder with his paw. "Race ya to it!" he cried, then sprinted away. Bumblepaw scrambled after him with a surprised mrrow! Weaselstar felt something warm settle in her chest as she watched them push and shove their way to the fresh-kill pile for a quick breakfast. She still didn't really want to move into the den, but perhaps it could be repurposed yet. A naming den could be good. Or an extra medicine den. Weaselstar bent down and took a bone in her teeth, planning to clean.

"Do you remember the words?"

"Stars," wheezed Weaselstar, feeling her heart almost jump out of her pelt. She turned to Beethroat with a pout. "Oh. It's you."

Beethroat waved her tail in what Weaselstar read as a greeting. The calico's form was almost see-through, with the slightest twinkling of stars in her eyes. "The words of a ceremony are a big deal," she continued. "It's more than just the names themselves. It's the flair. The welcoming of StarClan. You remember them?"

"I've been practicing them all week," she promised. Beethroat seemed to settle at her words, flopping down on her haunches. "I thought you were... I dunno, free? Not a Shadow anymore?"

"Your understanding of the situation isn't wrong. This is my StarClan-given form. Old as it might be- as forgotten as it might be. I'm the spectre of a deputy, only recalled by a single living being."

"Me?"

Beethroat blinked at her, pleased. "Aye. But I can't rest quite yet." The calico bowed her head. "As time goes on, you will need guidance and help. My Shadows can gift that to you- if, in turn, you release them."

Weaselstar's ears flattened, struck by the quiet desperation in the molly's voice. I don't want to leave a group of cats to haunt, do I? She remembered how Brackenstar died with a shudder. But can I trust them when they've done what they did?

The deputy seemed to recognize her line of thought. "Blame me for the end of ShadowClan. All they did was try to survive. My Shadows are elders, medicine cats, even kits- they don't deserve to rot the way we have."

"How can I trust you?"

"Touch noses with me. I'm done keeping secrets."

Weaselstar hesitated. She took a step closer and Beethroat moved as well, pausing when she flinched back. The brown molly tried again, this time without assistance. The heavy odor of sap coated Weaselstar's tongue as she brushed against Beethroat's cold, dry nose.

She sees snippets. Snatches.

Quick, thudding pawsteps on the leaf-strewn ground. Calico paws nearing a hovering group of cats, all cast in darkness. One in the center, bright and bloody. Holding him close for the briefest of moments before being dragged away, wailing for an apprentice. Your  apprentice.

Brackenstar, alive and unyielding, his eyes crazed with horror and disbelief as he argued. It lasted well into the night. "-paw is a traitor to ShadowClan! He attacked his own. I'll never accept him as a warrior."

"They were attacking RiverClan kits!" you snap back. "My apprentice followed the warrior's code. And now he's out there somewhere, being healed by medicine cats that stink of fish. You must name him warrior to prove that ShadowClan does not condone-"

"ShadowClan doesn't condone traitors," he repeated, baring his teeth. "We'll get you another one, alright? Just let him go."

"This isn't bits of fresh-kill, Brackenstar! This is-"

"I've made my decision." The tom turned his back on her, padding confidently towards his den. "Maybe next time you'll teach your apprentice correctly."

The next Gathering. Blood on your leader's paws. And ThunderClan, smiling seductively from a tree branch above.

Weaselstar didn't realize she was staggering until her butt slammed into the side of the wall. Beethroat's eyes followed her with a furious intensity, belied by the rumbling growl that had started in her chest.

The deputy, seeming to realize she had caused concern, took in a deep breath. Her pelt slowly fell flat. "This is... the first warrior ceremony in a very long time," she meowed quietly. "It's gotta be perfect."

"It will be." She swallowed down some bile. Weaselstar felt her paws shaking, claws scraping against the ground. What if it was Ashpaw? The idea of being led away from him by enemy warriors as he bled out, unknowingly witnessing his last moments, was hard to consider. What if it was one of the kits? She shook the idea away and hesitantly touched Beethroat's paw. "And I'll make sure nothing like that can happen again."

Beethroat slowly nodded. "I'll hold you to that, Weaselstar."

So. No pressure.

Weaselstar misjudged her leap onto the Pinebranch, back paw dangling precariously. It was beginning to feel like trees themselves had it out for her. She sat down with a groan. For a moment, she just watched. Fogfur and Ashpaw were wrestling in the clearing, their gray pelts blending together. Hootpaw played tag with the kits, Elmkit hot on her heels. Larkkit, noticing her above, stopped to smile at her. Squirrelwhisker was chatting with the elders, no doubt gossiping about the Gathering. Adderpelt was returning with Dovefrost, carrying a mouse and finch each.

We're doing it, she realized, feeling her heart soar. We're building a real Clan. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Pinebranch for a Clan meeting!"

Squirrelwhisker stopped mid-sentence to grumble about her not needing to yell, but it did the job. Ashpaw and Hootpaw quickly groomed themselves free of dust. Fogfur bore her dusty fur with pride, sitting beside Sweetshine. Though the kits weren't old enough to join, Weaselstar was happy to see them squirm in beside Adderpelt, snatching glances up at her like they thought they were getting away with something.

"ShadowClan," Weaselstar mewed. "Today..." She paused. That didn't feel right. Her Clan was staring up at her like she was a spectacle. The brown molly hopped back down. "Aw, forget it. You can hear me better from here, yeah? Today is a big deal to me, and I hope you all feel the same. ShadowClan hasn't had a warrior ceremony since before any of our parents were born. The fact that I can stand here today and pretend to know what I'm doing is just... amazing."

Birchfoot pushed to the front of the group, dipping his head. "I'm honored to be here. Didn't really expect my life to go this way, but it's nice here. Smells nice. Good kids. Weird, but good."

Ratpaw shot out in front of him, whiskers fuzzing with excitement. "He said yes!"

"Shh!" called Pinethroat. "It's not your time yet, young'un."

"He's allowed," Bumblepaw replied, trying to keep her face a bit more neutral. That might've meant something if her front paws weren't tapdancing in front of her.

Weaselstar gave them both a smile, then looked to their mentor. "Birchfoot, are Bumblepaw and Ratpaw ready to be warriors?"

"Sure are. Kicked my tail in training today, and they caught birds bigger'n them."

She nodded. The reek of sap was back, stronger than ever, and she knew Beethroat was watching. " I, Weaselstar, leader of ShadowClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you in turn. Bumblepaw, Ratpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

"You make it sound like a question," Bumblepaw meowed.

Ratpaw eagerly bobbed his head up and down. "This is all I've ever wanted."

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Bumblepaw, from this moment on you will be known as Bumblestorm. StarClan honors your passion and honesty, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ShadowClan."

Bumblestorm let out an excited squeal, wriggling from her ears to her tail as Weaselstar rested her nose on the new warrior's head. She licked her shoulder and stepped away, puffing out her chest.

"Ratpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Ratfoot. StarClan honors your intelligence and inquisitive nature, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ShadowClan."

Something like peace settled in Ratfoot's eyes as they traded pleasantries. Perhaps, in another world, he would've been named after Smokescar. Weaselstar couldn't blame him for just being happy to avoid that fate. The black tom turned to his mentor with excitement in his frazzled pelt. Birchfoot purred and nuzzled him.

Weaselstar threw back her head and yowled. "Bumblestorm! Ratfoot!"

ShadowClan joined in, booming the names as loud as they could. The new warriors traded a look before pouncing, knocking Weaselstar to the ground with an oof. She couldn't help but laugh as their whiskers tickled her face.

"You lucky foxes!" Hootpaw cried, tackling the tacklers. They all fell into a heap along the side. "It'll be our turn next, so just you wait! My snoring won't escape you forever!"

Bumblestorm swooned and flopped onto her side, as if the mere idea wounded her. Hootpaw mock-gasped and bowled her over.

Ashpaw gingerly helped her to her paws, whiskers quivering. "Will we get to pick names?" he asked, voice low. "Since- since they did?"

Weaselstar looked at him a moment, considering. What did it hurt? Warriors could request names all the time, for various reasons- to be named for wounds, or for warriors who had died, or for family. Letting them have a choice would only make the ceremonies more meaningful. "Sure."

"Nice," he meowed, and left it at that.

Chapter Text

Something cold registered on Weaselstar's scruff as she slowly awoke. It took her a second to realize it was shaking her gently, and a second more to realize that wet thing was a paw. Thunder warbled in her ears.

Weaselstar's jaws split into a yawn as she stretched, eyes gooey. "What time is it?" she mumbled, taking the extra second to groom her face. "Ratfoot?"

Ratfoot sheepishly waved his tail. The new warrior was soaked and shaking.

"Has it been raining all night?"

He nodded.

Weaselstar sucked in a breath. What a horrible way to spend your vigil! "Alright, let's go get Bumblestorm."

She stood, wincing as Featherkit's head fell from her side to the moss. The kitten snored on. A flash of lightning showed Weaselstar her clearing had become what could gently be labeled as a bog- and this close to Leaf-bare, she held no doubt the rain was cold. She shuddered, claws kneading the relative dryness of the nursery. Hunting and patrolling is going to be a nightmare.

Ratfoot plunged into the open with one last glance. The shock of cold water destroyed any chance of Weaselstar falling back asleep as she took off at a dead sprint for the entrance, slipping and sliding. Bumblestorm peered up at her through the drizzle, soaked and muddy from a fall.

"Go clean yourselves up," she instructed, pressing her nose to their heads. "No patrols today, alright? You need to stay warm."

Bumblestorm let out an explosive sigh. "Oh thank stars. If you tried to put me on dawn patrol, I'd've probably mutinied."

"That'd've been fair," Weaselstar agreed. "If you want, you can grab first off the pile. Or you could wait for the dawn hunting patrol to come back and get something a bit less... soggy."

Ratfoot pushed his nose under Bumblestorm's elbow. "Sleep," he urged the black molly. She nodded, stood up, and trundled off towards the warrior's den. Weaselstar winced at the thought of their fresh nests getting destroyed with rainwater. Shaking herself out (it did exactly as little as she expected), Weaselstar trotted towards the fresh-kill pile. Better get some food in me before I go on patrol.

"Weasel!" cried Sweetshine, slipping and sliding on the mud. The usually white-furred warrior was quickly turning a squishy yellow as she came to stop at Weaselstar's side. "Go back to bed. I'll do dawn patrol."

Weaselstar blinked at her, surprised. "What?"

"It's time I got back into the swing of things! It's only two moons until our kits'll be apprentices, you know." Despite the terrible weather, Sweetshine managed to look surprisingly chipper about the whole thing. "Adderpelt and I decided we'd take some of the load off you today and work on sharpening our claws a bit."

A surge of anxiety struck Weaselstar as she realized both her friends had plans to work that day. "I've never been alone in the nursery before."

Sweetshine's face went flat. "Weasel, you birthed most of them."

"But what if I'm not entertaining enough? Sweets, what if I bore them?"

"You're their mother. They just want to spend time with you." Sweetshine tilted her head up to trail a long lick across Weaselstar's cheek. Her pelt went from ice cold to too warm in an instant. "Take the morning off, fluff-for-brains. You need it."

"Ah," said Weaselstar, dumbfounded. She slowly nodded. "I, uh... I can do that."

"Good! Go get dried off."

Adderpelt met her at the nursery entrance, muzzle wrinkled as she shook off her pelt. "That bad?"

"How am I supposed to go back to bed like this?" she whined, desperately licking her hindquarters.

"Relax. By the time you wake up, the nest'll be soggy anyway." It was Adderpelt's turn to give her a lick to the cheek, purring. They spoke in low tones to avoid stirring the kits. "We'll be back by Sunhigh. I'm sure Ashpaw will appreciate the sleep."

Weaselstar shot him a suspicious look. "This feels planned."

He laughed and shook his head. "Not really. We've been planning on getting back into the swing of things for a couple of days. Today just felt like a good day to give you a break. You haven't had one since you kitted."

"Oh, yeah," she meowed. It honestly hadn't occurred to her that it'd been that long. "I guess that makes sense."

Adderpelt nudged her to her paws, then towards the nest. "Go. Nap. This place'll still be gross and muddy when you wake up."

"Yeah," Weaselstar repeatedly, sinking slowly into the moss at the edge of their conjoined nest. Almost immediately she was swarmed by sleepy kittens, climbing and curling and snoring in their pursuit of bodily warmth. She blinked at them, then the camp, and it finally sunk in that things weren't going to fall apart. She didn't have to do everything right this second. She really could take a nap. "I guess it will."

Weaselstar woke to the sound of retching. She reluctantly pushed herself up by her front paws, yawning. Fuzz clung to her eyes as she smacked her lips. "Kits? What's..."

"Not us," Spottedkit reported. She had her little head poking out the front. "Gramma found the pukey-plant."

A sting of worry twisted her stomach as she heard how nonchalant the kitten sounded about it. "She ate something?"

"Yeah. The pukey-plant."

Weaselstar tip-toed over the rest of the litter and peered outside. The rain had drizzled out for the moment, but the tumultuous clouds heralded more to come. Just outside the medicine den Dew was plopped back on her haunches, heaving bile into the mud. Scraps of plants surrounded her.

"Mom?" she meowed, worried. She motioned for Spottedkit to stay back and went to her. Dew held up her paw, retched one last agonizing time, and settled in with a groan. "Mom, are you-"

"Sortin' herbs," Dew grunted. "Found the one that makes you hurl."

Weaselstar awkwardly sat down beside her, surprised when Dew leaned on her for support. The molly took in deep breathes. "Are you- are you eating them on purpose?"

Dew shrugged. "How am I supposed to know what the damn things do otherwise?"

"That's dangerous! You could eat any number of-"

"Fine. Give me the one that stops my stomach hurting. Go on. Pick it out."

Weaselstar opened her mouth to breathe in all the smells. It was all bog water and mud. Shreds of green and berries surrounded them. She recognized, distantly, that there was some poppy seeds and juniper berries, but neither of those were for stomachache. "Um," she said.

"'Xactly." Dew snatched a pawful of small green leaves out of the pile. "It's these, by the way."

She grimaced, watching her chew and swallow. I never realized how hard it'd be to learn medicine from scratch. Weaselstar couldn't help but feel a bit silly. Of course it is. I can barely tell a seed from a root! "Briarstar talked to me at the last Gathering about a training program. Maybe we should-"

"I can learn on my own!" she snapped, stamping a paw into the mud.

"Not if you kill yourself in the process."

Dew looked away, ears flat.

Weaselstar sighed. I'm not going to get anything more out of her. She touched her muddy paw and stood. "Just- think on it, okay? If you need me, I'll be with the kits." The sky grumbled in agreement as she stood and walked away, only to stop mid-step at Dew's voice.

"Have you told them about Antpaw?"

The name instantly sent shudders up her spine. She whirled around, fur along her back rising. "What about him?" she demanded, claws digging into the soggy ground. She doesn't know, does she?

Dew blinked at her. "He died in front of you. That's not easy to get over."

She thinks this is about the battle. Weaselstar forced her pelt to lie flat. She didn't know if that was better or worse. "I'm not telling my kids about the time I watched my friend bleed to death, Dew. That's just- so fucked up. Why would I do that?"

"I told you about Mudcloud," she replied, shrugging.

The molly snorted and rolled her eyes. Of course. It always goes back to Mudcloud. "And look where that got us! Why is it so hard for you to understand that he doesn't matter?"

The air felt hot as Dew's eyes settled on her pelt. She looked haunted. "I lied."

"...What?"

"I told Spiderstar I didn't know he was going to take them. But I did. I... I helped him."

Blood roared in Weaselstar's ears. "My littermates?"

"They're out there, somewhere. Living happy little house cat lives." Dew swallowed heavily. "I couldn't give you that life, Weasel. I tried. I tried so, so hard. I turned Mudcloud in- he was muttering weird shit in his sleep and blathering about plans when he was awake. I wanted to run away with you while he and Spiderstar fought. And he... I didn't know he had you. I swear."

"Stop. Just. Stop." Weaselstar felt her teeth clack on each word. Dew flinched back. "Look. I know this means a lot to you. But, to me, it doesn't change anything. Spiderstar is a bad leader. Dad died. I'll probably never meet my littermates."

"But what if you did?" she urged. "Don't take this from them. From me. Don't let these strangers into this place. They could be-"

"I'm not- are you serious?" Weaselstar felt like someone had cuffed her across the face. "I'm not risking ShadowClan's future on your mistakes."

Dew shook her head. "It was never a mistake. And I don't regret it."

"That's because you got to live," she snarled. The change was instant. Dew shriveled under her, looking older than the trees. Wrinkles and gray hairs were prominent on the rogue, squished in some mud with sick hardly a whisker-length beside her. "Look, Dew. Nothing is forcing you to stay here. If you hate this place that much, leave. Please." Her voice broke. "I'm trying so hard not to be Spiderstar. But if you hate it here, and you won't leave because of me, doesn't that mean I'm doing exactly what he did?"

"I'm not-" she started, stopped, and stared at her paws. "Leave me alone."

Weaselstar grit her teeth against the newest wave of frustration. "Fine."

The rest of the kits had begun to stir as Weaselstar pushed inside, holding the fattest, soggiest shrew she'd ever seen. "Morning, kids. Anyone want a soggy appetizer while we wait for breakfast?"

"Mom," Spottedkit moaned, rubbing her eye. "No one's gonna eat that."

She set it down. The tang of blood hardly registered against the pounding in her head. "That's exactly why I'm gonna eat it, miss missy. You're welcome to join if you're thirsty. It's more of a drink than food by now."

The shrew squished out slightly. Honeykit cringed. "Ew! Is it gonna rain like this all the time?"

"Not all the time. It snows in Leaf-bare."

"What's snow like?" Featherkit asked, eyes wide and curious. "You said we got to be apprentices when it came, right? So what's it like?"

She took a bite to compose herself. She didn't think she and Dew had ever fought like that before. Granted, that's because we only saw each other like once a moon. Even if she had felt right to say what she said, it made her feel like she'd swallowed a bad piece of fresh-kill. Only the shrew was wet, not diseased.

"It's soft like rabbit fur," she decided, swallowing. "Only cold, and it falls on your head. Then it melts and it's wet."

Larkkit sighed dreamily. "I like rabbit fur."

"It's not all fun and games," Weaselstar warned, whiskers trembling. It was hard to keep a bad mood up around the kits; even as the worried thoughts haunted her, she found herself trying to entertain them instead. "There's not much food in Leaf-bare. There's no leaves, and no birds to chirp."

"Why don't they chirp?"

"They go away somewhere. You'll see; soon bunches of birds will fly in the sky together, all going the same way. I don't think any cat's ever followed them."

Elmkit snorted. "Yeah, right. When we start hunting, we'll catch so many birds there won't be any bunches left."

"Tough talk." Weaselstar found herself purring. "Lemme see your hunter's crouch."

The brown and white tabby did a little bounce and crouched. Her front paws were close to the ground, ears pricked, eyes alert. Her little claws had slid out. Elmkit bared a little teeth, as if trying to intimidate an imaginary squirrel.

Weaselstar tilted her head a little. "Your tail's sticking up. And, uh, so is your rear."

"Your butt," Honeykit snickered.

Elmkit squeaked with indignation. "I'm preparing a pounce!"

"Bunch your legs under you. It helps your pounce get air-time."

"I know, mom," she grumbled, but dropped her haunches. Her tail stuck up straight regardless.

"Sweetie. Tail."

"What's it matter?"

Weaselstar grabbed the moss nest and rucked it up over her front paws. "Am I hidden?"

Spottedkit snorted. "No!"

She ducked her head and ears inside. "How 'bout now?"

"Sort of?" Honeykit squeaked. "Your butt's sticking out."

"Rear," Larkkit corrected absentmindedly.

Weaselstar did a little hop and let her bottom legs stretch to their usual height, tail- and, well, butt- in the air. "Do I look like a rock?"

She heard assorted giggling and returned to the surface. "Prey won't know you for a rock if you crouch. But they can tell a tail for a weed."

Elmkit blew a raspberry, crouched properly, and pounced. "I'm gonna get you!"

And Weaselstar, glad for the distraction, gladly rolled onto her side to play.

Chapter Text

Fogfur dropped a bundle of moss into the corner of the leader's den, sitting down to unwind it and weave it into the large nest. "Nice to see this old hunk of junk being used. Even if it's for kittypets."

"It's just a transitory thing," Weaselstar corrected her gently, kneading her own corner to fluff it. "I doubt anybody is gonna wanna sleep with complete strangers on their first night."

Bumblestorm wriggled around on her back, legs kicking happily. "I'm gonna! This place is nice."

"Yeah," Fogfur grunted. "Nicer than our dens, anyway."

Weaselstar winced, claws half-in and half-out of the moss. That last thing she wanted was to make it seem like she was favoring the newcomers over her Clanmates. "I'll re-moss the dens tomorrow," she decided.

"What, like, all of them? That's a lot of moss, Weasel."

"I'll figure it out," Weaselstar meowed, jerking her head in a nod of satisfaction. It wasn't going to fix the problem, but it was a start. "Fogfur, would you mind guarding the camp tonight? I want some kind faces to meet the loners, and you and Dovefrost are my best bet."

Fogfur's nose wrinkled. "You want me to pretend like I'm their new friend?"

"No. I don't want to lie to them. I just don't want them to take two steps into the territory and meet Squirrelwhisker. Try and keep her from forming a one-cat-protest, would you? I'd owe you one."

"You'd owe me not getting thrown on dawn patrol for a couple of days. I'm a sleepy kitty."

"I can work with that."

Trading a quick nose touch with the warrior, Weaselstar pushed out of the leader's den and into the camp. Bumblestorm was hot on her heels. "Can I come with? Please? And Ratfoot, too! Ted's gonna be so jealous of our names."

"Sure," she replied, relieved. Bringing a whole patrol of strange cats would have only made this situation more awkward, but going alone might've made them feel like she was being sneaky or deceitful. This was the perfect middle ground. The molly found Dovefrost carefully taking ticks out of Pinethroat's back. "I'm heading out with Bumblestorm and Ratfoot. This shouldn't take long. Watch the camp for me, would you?"

Dovefrost wrinkled her nose. "How many kits did you say there were?"

"Four."

"As if the nursery wasn't full enough already," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Can't believe I'm gonna be waiting paw and foot on some overfed kittypets who'd probably prefer slop."

"Hey!" Bumblestorm stomped closer, going nose to nose with the warrior. "They're rogue-born, thank you very much. And even if they weren't, they're gonna be great warriors someday."

"Someday isn't before we're all going to starve in Leaf-bare. We've got less than four moons to teach a bunch of mouse-brains how to hunt to survive. Clan-born apprentices don't learn that quick."

"I'm leaving now," Weaselstar asserted, stepping between them. As much as she hated to admit it, Dovefrost's words shook her to her core. What if this is all a big mistake? What if I'm feeding mouths that will never return the favor? She shook herself. Ice Cube seemed to honestly want to live here. He, at least, is on my side. That's one more set of paws. "I understand your concern, Dovefrost. I won't force you to go along with my ideas. But, please, understand that I'm doing what I honestly think is going to help ShadowClan. I'm putting my heart into this."

"And if it doesn't work?" she asked.

Weaselstar winced. "Then I'll learn my lesson, won't I?"

Dovefrost tsked under her breath, fluffy tail dragging under her chin. "You were always a stubborn thing, Weasel. It's like arguing with a monster- just keeps going no matter how many warriors you put in front of it." She dipped her head. "Be safe. And may StarClan light your path, for all our sakes'."

The journey was just as winding, but a little less confusing. They cleared the fields with quick hops, walked across the empty Thunderpath, and followed along the wood teeth into the Twolegplace. Weaselstar was a bit worried she wouldn't be able to find the alleyway pivot, but found she didn't have to, greeted by Ice Cube's gray and white pelt at the head of it.

He spotted her and brightened. "You came!"

"I made a promise, didn't I?" she returned. "Did anyone actually decide to join us?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," he meowed, as if that was somehow common sense. "Teddy's on his way now- he's bringing his grandpa to meet you, and picking up a straggler on the way. The kits have been talking about it all moon."

All of them? Weaselstar thought, pleased. "And Pringles?"

Ice Cube's ears fell a bit, but not much. It was more of an even line. "He said he wants to talk to you first. In the trash can."

"Oh. Uh. Sure?"

Ratfoot and Bumblestorm struck up a conversation with the loner as she crept down the way. She hesitated at the cloth covering the can. "Pringles?" she meowed.

"Come in," he said.

Weaselstar wriggled her nose under the cloth and went inside. The stench of half-rotten food was intense, but the can had been completely emptied of everything but a ratty old blanket. There was only enough room for one full cat, prompting Weaselstar's tail and haunches to hang outside. Pringles was laying down, one paw tucked under himself. Squished against his side were the kittens.

Almost instantly Pickle was in front of her, eyes wide. "Bone-cat! You came back!" Ae puffed out aer chest. "I got bigger."

"You did!" she agreed, purring.

"She's a Clan cat, dear," Pringles meowed fondly, looking ancient. "I know this is probably weird for you too, but I'm not fond of talking about my... condition."

Condition? Weaselstar cocked her head to the side. The tom didn't smell like he'd ever made a trip to the cutter, so it wasn't about that, but she couldn't think of any other reason for his sheepishness. He looks and acts like a perfectly healthy tom. "I have no idea what we're talking about right now."

"I'm declawed."

Weaselstar blinked once, then twice. "I still have no idea what we're talking about right now."

"I don't have claws. It's not difficult," he snapped. Pringles signed and held a paw out, showing her the pads. He spread them and nothing came out. "Y'see? My human thought it'd be a bright idea, and I didn't know what was going on until I woke up. Took the whole bone."

Instantly, the molly recoiled, fur fluffing up with horror. "That's horrible! I thought Twolegs cared for their cats?"

"Some do. Some don't. Some are just dumb." He quickly tucked the foot underneath himself, as if trying to hide the truth from his own eyes. "I'm never going to be a good Clan cat if all I can do bite things. I just... wanted to make sure there was a place for me."

Dovefrost's words trickled down Weaselstar's spine. She couldn't deny that Pringles was at a massive disadvantage. His hunting would suffer without hooks to hold flighty prey. Battling would be one endless mashing of his jaws into things, which could make him lose teeth or worse. She didn't imagine missing parts of his feet would be good for his future, either- he'd likely need to retire with arthritis. He's not much different from Adderpelt and I, she thought.

Weaselstar stretched her neck out to touch noses with him. "There's always a place in ShadowClan for you, Pringle. I'll make one with my own two paws if I have to. Being with us is about more than just fighting and hunting, you know."

A wry smile curved the loner's muzzle. "Am I gonna have to have one of those weird names?"

"Not if you don't want one."

"Aw," meowed Pavement, having finally woken up enough to register what was going on. "I want a cool name."

"I WANT A NAME," Pickle meowed, very pointedly at the loudest decibel possible.

Kitkat eagerly nodded along as Clock said, "Give me a really weird one, okay?"

Weaselstar looked to Pringles. "They could keep their names for now, and get apprentice names at six moons. Just in case."

"In case what? We decide to upgrade to a dumpster instead of a community of cats? Let them. They can change them later if they want."

That's not how warrior names work! She thought, but bit her tongue. It wasn't like any of them knew the naming system enough to know better. And, really, if they want new names, why not give them to them? It wouldn't kill her to think up something else. "Alright, if you're sure. Before cats can be made apprentices, they have kit added to the end of their names." She gently tapped each kitten on the head, listing the new names off as she went. "Picklekit, Pavementkit, Kitkatkit, and Clockkit."

"Good luck saying that all the time!" Clockkit snorted, nudging Kitkatkit.

"I'm not the one who's gonna have to say it," Kitkatkit replied, shrugging. "Names are a social construct anyway."

Weaselstar stared at her. "I think you're going to get along just fine with my kids."

She squeezed out of the can backwards one pawstep at a time, almost stepping on an overexcited Picklekit on the way. She looked to find Ted and two strangers chatting with Bumblestorm and Ratfoot. A small cloth toy sat at Ted's feet, looking old and well-loved.

Ted jumped to his paws. "Weaselstar! Hi!" He nodded to the cat closest to him- a raggedy gray tabby tom. "This is my grandpa, Sardine. He wanted to meet you." He waved a paw at the brown and white tabby molly on his other side. "And this is Partridge- she wants to join!"

"Evenin'," Sardine meowed, dipping his head. "I know a little of everybody in these parts. It's always fun to meet new cats."

"Oh," she said, a bit taken aback. "Hello. I'm Weaselstar, but most cats just use Weasel." They crossed paws in a friendly manner. "It's nice to meet you."

He squinted at her. "You look kinda familiar. Have I ever seen you around before?"

"My parents, maybe. My mother's name is Dew- blue cat with a smushed face."

"Ooooh, right, right. She and I were never close; liked to be alone for the most part." Sardine cocked his head to the side. "I could swear you look like this other rogue I know, but it's been so long since I saw him last."

Weaselstar felt her heart twist. "Brown cat with a brown face and paws?"

"That was him. Mudpie, his name was. You his daughter?"

"Yeah. I, uh... I never really got to know him."

"Oh," he said, suddenly very awkward. "Well, if it's any consolation, he was a real bee-in-the-butt, if you know what I mean."

"Nice save," Partridge laughed. "Hi. You're the one in charge, yeah?"

"Yeah! I didn't think anyone who hadn't met us before would be coming."

"I was planning on coming last time, but my owner shut me in! It's part of why I'm going. I'd also really like to have kits someday, and I know they would just take them away from me like they did to my family as a kitten."

Weaselstar shuddered. The more she heard about Twolegs, the less she wanted to get to know them. She pointed her muzzle to the toy. "Is that a... fake piece of fresh-kill?"

"It's my Huggy Bear!" Ted proudly scruffed the item to see better. Weaselstar didn't know what a bear was, necessarily, but she didn't think they were neon pink, either. "I need him to sleep when I'm someplace new. I know it's not the most fierce look, but I'm sure the kids will want to play with it when I'm done."

"Brave warriors, we be," meowed Ratfoot, as Bumblestorm snorted into his side.

Chapter Text

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Weaselstar asked.

"They're old enough to cross on their own," Pringles meowed calmly. He'd joined her on the sprint across the Thunderpath, meeting Ted and Partridge in the field. Across the way, Ice Cube was explaining the road to the kittens. "'Sides, it's late. No cars are gonna be out this late."

Weaselstar swallowed heavily. She didn't know an exact age on the kits, true, but they didn't even look four moons yet.

To her dismay, they went- not at full pelt, not even at a jog, but at a casual stroll, one following the other following the other, with Ice Cube walking beside the one at the head; Pavementkit. "'Sides," Pringles repeated, not catching on to Weaselstar's private horror, "It's kinda cute to see them trying to look like the Beetles."

Loner parenting is hardcore.

Picklekit shoved past to touch the edge of the Thunderpath first. Ae proudly puffed out aer chest to the group. "I conquered the road!"

"How do streets happen?" Pavementkit meowed, poking their head out from between aer ears. "Are they always there, do you think?"

Teddy's eyes lit up. He handed Huggy Bear to Partridge. "Oh, oh, I know! I know! It's a bunch of smelly gunk humans put down!" He waved his paw vaguely. "I knew a cat who touched some once. It left a pawprint."

"Cement," Ice Cube meowed cheerfully.

"No, that's for sidewalks. Asphalt is for roads."

Weaselstar flattened her ears. "I feel like my skull is going to explode."

"On the bright side, we're learning new words," Ratfoot muttered to her. She jumped; the warriors had been fairly quiet on the journey back, enough so she'd almost forgotten they were there. "But I grow more terrified the longer I listen."

"You wanna go on ahead?" she offered. "Tell the others how many are coming?"

Bumblestorm did a little skip and shoved Ratfoot's shoulder eagerly. "You hear that? Our first solo warrior task!"

"Of course. We'd be honored to." Ratfoot shoved her back and sprinted away, calling behind him, "Last one there's a waterlogged mouse!"

"You're on!"

By the time they managed to reach the edge of ShadowClan's trees, the two warriors were long gone, but their group wasn't alone. In the darkness, Ashpaw's gray pelt turned almost pitch against the trees as he stood and trotted over to them. In his teeth was a mouthful of soft purple flowers.

"Ashpaw!" Weaselstar meowed, surprised. She nosed her apprentice's head. "You didn't have to come out here this late."

He shrugged. "Hootpaw stayed behind to keep mom busy. It's my turn next time you do something she doesn't like." Ashpaw raised his tail in greeting to the others. "Hi! Welcome to ShadowClan!"

"Aww, look at this little gentleman," Partridge meowed, thoroughly charmed. She gently took a stem from his mouth and tucked it into her fur. "I hope everybody in ShadowClan is this sweet."

He shrugged again, ears falling half-mast. "My mom is kind of a jerk to strangers. But everyone else is nice!"

Weaselstar felt a pang at the frustration in his eyes. She knew the feeling well. She bumped her head against his shoulder and gestured to his flowers. "Want help handing those out?"

Ashpaw perked up a little. They gave each and every cat a small flower to hold or tuck away, exchanging thanks along the way. The final purple flower dangled in Weaselstar's mouth; a trinket of her adventures. Smelling faintly of a natural perfume, the group made the final leg of the journey in high spirits, meeting Fogfur and Dovefrost at the entrance to the camp.

"This is my stand-in deputy," she explained, gesturing to the white molly. "She was my mentor as an apprentice."

"Stars, there's a lot of you," Dovefrost grunted. She sighed and waved her paw. "Can't say I'm the happiest to make your acquaintance, seeing how we're gonna have to teach ya'll to hunt, but welcome to ShadowClan."

Pringles' fur rose defensively, but he said nothing.

"Most of us can hunt," Ice Cube replied firmly. "Only thing you're gonna have to teach us is manners. If you know any."

Dovefrost glared at him a moment, then rolled her eyes and padded inside. "Too old for this dung," she uttered under her breath.

"ANYWAY," Fogfur meowed, looking a bit ashamed. "I'm Fogfur. Weasel asked me to help you get settled in." She leaned in to hiss in Weaselstar's ear. "By the way, Squirrelwhisker and Dew are talking about how much of a bad idea this is. I can't tell you how terrifying it is to see them working together."

Weaselstar licked her chest fur in an attempt to look nonchalant. The warrior had a point- the two were grouchy enough on a good day, but the idea they were grouching together about her made her stomach twist unpleasantly. "Yeah, alright, got it. C'mon, everyone- I'll show you your den."

Thankfully, Squirrelwhisker didn't seem too keen on starting a fight this late at night, and simply hovered by the medicine den. She exchanged a final word with Dew before snorting dismissively and disappearing into the warriors' den. Birchfoot stopped grooming his tail by the prey pile to nod at them, looking quite awkward. Hootpaw cheerfully meowed a greeting. Weaselstar could just barely hear Adderpelt snoring as they passed the nursery. Fogfur gestured to various places with her tail and rattled off names as they went. The nice thing about having such a small Clan, Weaselstar supposed, was that there weren't many cats to stare at them.

Pinethroat buried her muzzle in Mossytooth's fur and grumbled something about them reeking of the Thunderpath. The gray and white elder laughed and said, "We probably stink like sap to them. Maybe we should all take a dip in the lake together!"

That's more positive than I expected, Weaselstar realized. Pinethroat had relaxed quite a bit from the stressed elder of a few moons ago.

By the time they reached the old leader's den, the novelty had worn off just a little. Weaselstar sighed in relief as she pushed the moss covering the den aside. "This is where you'll be sleeping while you settle into Clan life. We stocked it with new bed-"

A wad of moss hit Weaselstar directly in the nose.

She shook it off, stomach sinking at a familiar squealing. Featherkit and Honeykit were wrestling through the piles of moss in a jumbled ball of black fur, tugging on whiskers and stepping on tails. Spottedkit had rolled some into a ball and was batting it back and forth between her paws. Larkkit watched with blown pupils. Elmkit had been the one to toss the moss, cackling madly on top of the center nest.

"Kids!" she yelped, taken aback. "What are you- where's Sweetshine?"

"Makin' dirt," Spottedkit supplied.

"We just made those nests!" Fogfur complained, but her whiskers trembled with barely-suppressed laughter.

"We know," she meowed, but didn't look keen to stop batting. In fact, she made direct eye contact while she did it.

Partridge shoved her way up front with a coo. "Oh, aren't they cute! Whose are they?"

"Mine and a friend's," Weaselstar admitted, pelt hot. "Though they might end up missing some ears next time you see them."

"Nonsense. It makes the place feel more homey and lived in."

The brown and white tabby gladly settled into a loaf near the corner, watching warmly as Elmkit scooped up another ball to chuck- this time at Larkkit. Ted gingerly stepped over Spottedkit and Larkkit to drop Huggy Bear down- almost instantly, the kittens gravitated towards it, enthralled by the odd smells and color. He laughed and shot Weaselstar an I-told-you-so as he settled in. Pringles hardly seemed to notice, collapsing next to Ted and resting his chin on the ginger's shoulder. Weaselstar got the feeling he hadn't been out much since the kits came, and was more worn out than the rest of them.

"Helluva way to meet your kits," Ice Cube meowed, nudging her shoulder. "If it's cool to ask, who's the father?"

Weaselstar's claws dug into the dirt. That was the million dollar question. This is not a good time to unload that whole mess. "Adderpelt," she said finally. "He's asleep in the nursery, so you'll have to wait to meet him. Adder, Sweetshine and I are raising our litters as a big group." Weaselstar carefully pointed each one out. "The one who threw moss at my face is Elmkit. The black one digging into Ted's fur to get at his flower is Featherkit, and the black one trying to rip Huggy Bear from Elmkit is Honeykit, he's the only tom. Larkkit's the one chewing on her own tail."

"I 'ave an i'ch!" Larkkit defended herself around the fur.

"Gremlins, the lot of him," he said, grinning cheekily.

"Bone cat babies!" cried Picklekit, stomping none-so-politely over Ted and Pringles to be muzzle-to-muzzle with Elmkit. She let go of Huggy Bear, unintentionally sending Honeykit into a sprawl. "You're a lot smaller than the other cats."

Elmkit narrowed her eyes at aer. "That's how kittens work, mouse-brain."

Kitkatkit padded over to stand beside her sibling, tail sticking up. Despite the full moon of an age difference, she didn't look perturbed. "You aren't so tough. We beat a road!"

"So what? We've beaten lots of roads!" Honeykit snapped, then leaned in close to Spottedkit to whisper. "What's a road?"

"Probably a kittypet thing," she said. Spottedkit glanced up as Pavementkit padded in. "You smell like flowers, but fake."

"I like flowers," he replied, a bit hurt. "It's not my fault the only ones we got in the trash can have perfume on them."

"Oh," she meowed, then looked back at her moss, feeling awkward. "Well, we don't do that here, so... you're welcome?"

"I'm sleeping on Huggy Bear if I have to skin every single cat in this room and then myself," Clockkit announced, casually strolling further inside.

Weaselstar snorted and looked at Ice Cube. "You were saying?"

"We were made to be friends," he replied, then gestured for her to go inside. "Leader's first."

Chapter Text

"ShadowClan," Weaselstar meowed, trying to push down the nerves that crept along every inch of her fur like fleas. She'd decided against hopping onto the Pinebranch to make an announcement; this wasn't a ceremony, or a decree. This was something far more personal. But it was hard to ignore the stares of her Clanmates as they bore into her skull. "This is Partridge, Ted, Ice Cube, and Pringles. They've come to live with us."

"Nice to meet you!" Ted said, sounding just a little too happy about it. He's not great at hiding his nerves either, huh?

"Happy to finally see this place on the inside," Ice Cube added, tail swishing back and forth. "Most of you've already met me."

"When you stole our prey," Dovefrost growled.

The gray and white tom tipped his head to the side, nonplussed. "I gave it back."

Weaselstar cleared her throat and gestured to the kits sitting clustered around Pringles. She didn't think she'd ever seen them this well-groomed- or this quiet. "This is Ice Cube and Pringles' litter: Picklekit, Pavementkit, Kitkatkit, and Clockkit."

"Hi," squeaked Pavementkit.

"Dear StarClan, there's more of them," Squirrelwhisker huffed. She stomped over to them with a wrinkle to her nose, as if they all smelled like a particularly bad piece of carrion. Weaselstar tensed, waiting for further insult, but she snorted and fell back into a more neutral stance. "They aren't seriously keeping those kittypet names, are they?"

"They can if they want to," Weaselstar answered, stepping between them. "They aren't raised like us, Squirrelwhisker. They choose their own names. That's special to them."

Ted awkwardly cleared his throat. "I, uh, I wouldn't mind. You know. If you want. I'd be... Tedpaw, right?"

The ginger molly pressed on as if he hadn't spoken. "And another thing; how are we supposed to train this many cats? There's barely enough of us for the adults, and it won't be long before yours and Sweetshine's litter are ready to become 'paws. You don't honestly think we can teach them everything about Clan life in two moons, do you?"

"I was thinking-" Weaselstar mewed, tail lashing, "that we could do group training sessions. They can shadow Ashpaw and Hootpaw during the day, learn about our traditions in the evening, and go on patrols in the mornings." She turned and nodded to Ted, unwilling to ignore him like Squirrelwhisker had. "Names can come later, when you're ready to be warriors. If you want your names to have Clan additions or changed completely- it's up to each of you. That's if you want them changed at all."

"Sounds like a lot of work," Pringles observed. He stood and stretched, baring his teeth in a yawn. "We should get started."

Squirrelwhisker got into his face and growled. "You'll start when our fluff-brained excuse of a leader says you'll start."

"Squirrelwhisker," Weaselstar sighed, oddly warmed that the molly seemed to even consider her word worth using as a complaint. She flicked her tail for Hootpaw and Ashpaw to come closer, craning her head down to mutter quietly to them. "Are you two comfortable with them coming with?"

Hootpaw bounced on her paws. "Of course! It'll be nice to have someone around who knows even less than we do."

Her gaze flickered to Ashpaw. His ears were flat with worry. "You don't have to say yes," she reassured him. "We'll get plenty of one-on-one training, and we can take a walk through the forest whenever you get overwhelmed."

"What if that's a lot?" he whispered.

Weaselstar shrugged. "We'll have the buffest legs in ShadowClan."

The gray tom brightened considerably, giving a brave nod.

"Alright," Weaselstar said, straightening. She jerked her head in the direction of the camp entrance. "Let's go."

Weaselstar had originally asked the older warriors to help her show the loners how Clan cats hunt, but it turned out that hunting in the forest was a lot easier than hunting in a Twolegplace, and they were picking up on it quicker than expected. There were, of course, some exceptions- Ted and Partridge, both having been kittypets, had a lot to learn before they were sneaking up on much of anything, and Pringles was going to need to work on his patience; the tomcat, declawed, would have to practically be on top of his prey to snag them in his teeth, and he tended to try running after the food instead of using his natural camouflage. While that tactic might have been useful in a world of gray bricks, it was far less successful in a place where prey had plenty of places to hide. But all in all, it was a good start.

Next came the fighting assessment, which Fogfur and Bumblestorm had eagerly volunteered for. None of the Twolegplace cats seemed particularly skilled in that area- which, Weaselstar supposed, made sense. It wasn't like loners or kittypets fought in border skirmishes. Fighting was shorter and quicker in a world where you could much more easily lose your life. But there had been no bellyaching about it, even as Ted now stumbled across the training clearing, Ashpaw clinging to his back in a leap-and-hold. She honestly couldn't tell you which one looked more terrified.

"Well, I'll be fluffed," Dovefrost mewed, bemused. "We might actually train these idiots in two moons."

Weaselstar coughed to avoid laughing. "They didn't spend their whole lives doing nothing, you know."

The snowy molly flicked her tail dismissively. "This is the easy part. Explaining our traditions and having them follow them will be the real tick in the tail." Dovefrost glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. "Did you tell them about StarClan?"

"A little," she admitted. "It was more of a crash course. But I'm not expecting them to follow in our pawsteps on that if they don't want to." Dovefrost opened her mouth to argue, but Weaselstar cut her off. "They won't be any less of warriors for it. They'll still hunt and build dens and guard the camp. It's not like they're going to become medicine cats."

Dovefrost slowly shook her head. "It's not right. Clan cats not believing."

"If you left ShadowClan and became a kittypet, would you subscribe to a giant Twoleg in the sky?"

"That's different."

"Is it?"

"Uh, Weaselstar?" Ashpaw broke in. The 'paw had escaped his demonstration fairly unscathed, panting with exertion. Bits of gray fur stuck up in odd places. Hootpaw was gleefully explaining the uses for a scruff shake to Partridge in his place. "Could we... go for one of those walks?"

"Of course." She stood and dipped her head to Dovefrost, happy for the excuse to leave their argument behind. "Take over for me, would you?"

"Sure, why not?" Dovefrost rolled her eyes. "Not like I have anything better to do."

Ignoring that, Weaselstar wrapped her tail around Ashpaw's haunches and led him away.

The brisk wind of Leaf-fall was starting to permeate the air around them, making her pelt fluff instinctively. My throat's gonna hurt like hell when Leaf-bare hits. Especially now that Beetooth added to it. "Did you want to hunt, or just talk?"

"Talk," he said, then hesitated. "If that's okay."

"Absolutely. We've got plenty of prey from our new friends as it is."

Ashpaw nodded. His paws padded steadily on the ground. He watched them as if they were the most interesting things in the world, clearly trying to decide on what to say.

"You can speak your mind, you know," she prodded, gently.

The tension left him in small increments as they passed by an old, upturned log. "I overheard Dew and Squirrelwhisker talking about you last night," he meowed softly. "About what a bad idea this was. What if they turn on us?"

Weaselstar ignored how hurt she still was about her mother siding against her. She's allowed to feel that way. I have to accept that. "I don't think they will, but if they did, I think we have them pretty well covered in fighting right now."

Ashpaw purred in agreement, but it left as soon as it came. "Mom called you a failure." The fur along the scruff of his neck rose. "It made me so angry."

"I did fail her," Weaselstar said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He paused, studying her a moment. "Is this... about that apprentice she always talks about?" he asked hesitantly. "Antpaw?"

Weaselstar felt herself beginning to tense, and actively forced herself not to. If you do this every time someone says his name, they're gonna get suspicious! "Yes."

"What... was he like?"

She worked her jaw a moment to consider. It was strange to think there were cats in her Clan who didn't know about Antpaw. It felt like his name followed her everywhere she went. "He was... a rebel. He'd always go sneaking out at night, and he used to toss acorns down on the dawn patrol when they'd tell him not to climb trees. I was pretty desperate to follow the rules at that age, so we'd go at it constantly. He left frogs and burrs in my nest a couple of times, but I used to put ants in his, so I think we're even." Weaselstar stifled a chuckle. "One time he got into the catmint supply and chased imaginary butterflies all day. Spiderstar almost cuffed his ears off."

"Huh," mewed Ashpaw, having clearly not expected that. "He would've been a good ShadowClan warrior."

Weaselstar felt a pang. She hadn't considered that. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess he would have." She found herself purring. "The kits take more and more after him every day. Featherkit has his playful energy. Elmkit has his rebellious streak. And Spottedkit-"

"You... mean Larkkit and Honeykit?"

In spite of herself, Weaselstar froze. Ashpaw was watching her reaction with a cocked head, eyes bright and trusting. "R-Right. Them." She laughed it off nervously. "Sorry, I'm just so used to lumping them all together. They've been sharing a nest since before they opened their eyes, and-"

"You don't have to explain it to me," he cut her off gently. Weaselstar couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. "Featherkit and Honeykit basically double as twins. Larkkit and Elmkit look about the same; they're just different colors." He licked his chest fur sheepishly. "We always eat together before we start training. I've noticed a few things."

"Kits all look the same at this age," she brushed it off.

Ashpaw clearly wasn't fooled. He ran his pelt along her side in a comforting manner. "Does... Does Adderpelt-"

Weaselstar sighed, cutting him off. "Of course he does. But it doesn't matter. They're his kits. He's adopted Sweetshine's too." She batted at a small stone. "Things were different. In ThunderClan. Cats born in the camp could pick whoever they wanted as their mates. ShadowClan camp kits were the ones picked. Antpaw picked Sweetshine. If Spiderstar knew..."

He dipped his head. "Did... did you love him?"

"Did I-" Weaselstar burst into surprised laughter, forcing herself to stop when she saw Ashpaw flinch. "I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me. We snuck out of camp on a dare. We had a hunting competition, then some catnip, and things just... happened." She blinked at him beseechingly. The last thing Weaselstar wanted was for her apprentice to think less of her. "I didn't love him. I... don't think I've been in love, before." With a tom, anyway.

"That sounds sad." Ashpaw hesitantly headbutted her shoulder; a silent promise between a 'paw and his mentor to keep her secret. "Are you going to tell them?"

"Soon," she lied. "I want the loners settled in first, and I think they should know some battle moves before then, just in case Spiderstar tries something."

Ashpaw's claws scraped across the ground. "I won't let him," he told her solemnly. "I- I know I'm not very strong, or brave. But I'm still a ShadowClan cat. No ThunderClan cat is gonna hurt my friends."

Weaselstar purred, touching her nose to his head. "None of that doubt stuff, okay? You're a great apprentice. ShadowClan is so lucky to have you. I'm so lucky to have you." She nodded towards the way they came. "Shall we go see how training is going?"

"Yeah," he meowed, shoulders straightening. Ashpaw was beginning to grow taller by the day. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Chapter Text

"You see what I mean? Dad is-"

"Shh! You'll wake mom!"

She cracked open her eyes. Weaselstar had yet to fall asleep; she'd spent most of her night hunting and only recently stumbled into her nest. Dawn patrol would be going out soon. Weaselstar took a deep sigh and crawled back out of bed, every muscle aching. The kits scattered as she neared- all except for Elmkit, who stared her down with her tail bushed out.

Weaselstar crouched down next to the nursery entrance. "Why're we stalking dad?"

"Shh!" Elmkit reprimanded, shoving a tiny paw into her maw. "Look!"

Bemused, Weaselstar looked out into the clearing. The usual early morning activities were in full swing. Hootpaw and Ashpaw were practicing battle moves with Ratfoot in the corner. Pinethroat had attempted to get up with the warriors but had fallen asleep mid-groom outside her den. Ted blinked sluggishly at his robin while Ice Cube prattled on, the latter more of a morning warrior than the former. And Adderpelt was retrieving a vole from the fresh-kill pile for Partridge.

The brown tabby swooned as he set it at her paws. "Aww, Adder. Did you catch this for little ol' me?"

Adderpelt licked his chest fur in embarrassment. "Ah, no. Fogfur caught this, actually."

"What a shame." She pulled it closer, eyes twinkling deviously. "You can be so skilled with your claws."

Elmkit scoffed in disgust, throwing a paw out. "See?" she demanded. "They're being all... gross."

"I think it's sweet," Larkkit chimed in.

"You wouldn't if he was your dad!"

"He is my dad!"

"Not by blood!"

For once, Weaselstar hardly noticed the jab. She watched as the two warriors settled in together to eat. Partridge was practically laying on him. But he's... The sharp pinprick of claws in her forearm brought Weaselstar back to reality. She dug them in deep and shook it off. No. Don't be selfish. You should be supporting this.

"Elmkit," she meowed firmly. "Your father is allowed to love anyone he wants, and he's as much your father as he is Larkkit's."

Larkkit stuck her tongue out at the kit as she blanched. "But he's your mate, isn't he? He should be in love with you!"

"He's not-" Weaselstar cut herself off with a sigh. "Elmkit, Adderpelt is one of my closest friends, and I love him very much, but we aren't mates."

Elmkit stared at her, shattered. "Then- then why did you even have us?"

"Oh, sweetie..." Pulling the kit closer, she laved her over with licks while Weaselstar tried to think of what to do in this situation. Mudcloud had died before she even opened her eyes, and Dew had never shown any affection for any Clan cats that she knew of. "Your father and I wanted you five more than anything in the entire world. You're the light of our lives, and no one will ever change that."

"But she already has!" Elmkit cried, scuttling away with her fur floofed. Her tail was still slightly twig-like when she did that.

She stood and went to follow. "Elmkit, it's not like that-"

"Weaselstar! It's time for patrol!"

Sighing long and loud, she turned to meet Bumblestorm with a quick- "We'll talk about this later-" over her shoulder.

"Stars," Ratfoot swore under his breath, tail lashing. "They've pushed it back again."

Weaselstar brushed by the young warrior, tasting the air. The border, once just past the Thunderpath (which was still too far) had creeped its way several fox-lengths further and into the brush. She dug her claws into the grass and tried to calm herself. "It's like they're trying to reabsorb us all over again."

Fogfur's nose crinkled as she took a good whiff. "Man, did we really use to smell like that? Gross."

Weaselstar was inclined to agree. ThunderClan had always felt so natural before- the heat of sunshine and sap- but after moons of the cooler flavor of pines and water it was downright suffocating.

Ice Cube nudged her shoulder. "Soooo, stupid question. Where was it originally?"

She nodded towards the trees across the Thunderpath.

"Oh, wow. That uh- that really traveled far, huh?"

"It's just a power play. No one actually wants to cross a road to hunt on a strip of land so small even a badger wouldn't den themselves in it." Despite that, the frustration was starting to get to Weaselstar. She wanted to fight back. Wanted to remind Spiderstar that this land wasn't theirs anymore. But the Clan was still too small for that.

Soon, she promised herself. Before the kits are 'paws.

"Does it really matter?" Ratfoot meowed. "This shouldn't be allowed to get away with this."

"They shouldn't," she agreed wearily. "But we aren't ready to-"

"Intruders!"

The treeline across the Thunderpath rustled, and a ThunderClan patrol appeared, running over the road with their pelts bristled. Weaselstar clocked Brackenpelt, Bubblestone, Melonfrost, and two strangers.

Brackenpelt- the one who'd rang the alarm- shoved her nose into Weaselstar's face. "What are you doing so close to ThunderClan territory, huh?"

"Oh, keep your fur on," Fogfur meowed, rolling her eyes. "We're just on border patrol."

"Some border," one of the strangers- a bright red tom- hissed. He was double Weaselstar's size, with enough scars to fill a moon's worth of stories. "You're all too scared to fight for it."

Weaselstar forced her features to remain flat. "Have I met you?"

"Brickfang," he grunted. "You better remember it."

"Oooh, quite the edgelord I see," Ice Cube said, inserting himself between Weaselstar and the tom. "Well, you oughta know that the code says we keep to our own borders. Unless ThunderClan forgot their own rules, of course."

"We remember," Bubblestone rasped. The gray tom had been silent throughout the whole ordeal, and shrank down when attention was turned towards him. "If- if anything, you all are the ones breaking the code."

"That's right," Brickfang added unnecessarily. "You traitors better walk on home- before we teach you a lesson."

The last straggler- a tiny black and white tom- rubbed comfortably under Brickfang's belly. "Bricky, what did we say about threats?"

Brickfang broke into a snaggle-toothed grin. "Save 'em for the Gathering, and let our claws do the talkin'."

Weaselstar felt herself begin to tremble. She really, truly had no clue what to do about any of this. Leaving would make ShadowClan look vulnerable- but staying could cost them much more than some scratches. The patrol was made almost entirely of ex-loners, and she knew they would play for keeps.

But she wanted to fight. Stars, did she want to fight.

But she had to be a leader.

"Melon?"

The air of tension seemed to shift as Ice Cube, bored of the hissing, finally noticed the creamy yellow elephant in the room. He took a step towards her but was quickly barred by Brickfang, who glared at him suspiciously. Melonfrost had stayed in the very back, ears flat, but she startled as she was finally addressed, eyes meeting Ice Cube's with wary intent. Weaselstar noticed there was nothing soft in them.

"My name is Melonfrost," she corrected tersely. "What are you even doing here, Ice Cube? I thought you had more class than to side with traitors."

"Classy enough to ditch a trash can for some good friends and a good leader," he rebuffed. "Pringles is here too, you know."

Melonfrost's tail lashed. "Then Pringles is an idiot too."

"That's your brother!" Ice Cube balked. "And what about the kits? You just left them on our doorstep one day and-"

"I never wanted them," she meowed, so casual it was as if she was talking about the weather. "I wanted adventure. I wanted a warm place to sleep. ThunderClan gave me that. Gave me what you and those kits never could." Melonfrost levelled him one last glare. "Come near ThunderClan again and I'll make you regret it."

She gave the patrol a commanding flick of the ear and they were off. Brickfang glowered one last time before vanishing. Brackenpelt was grumbling under her breath. Bubblestone sprinted away with vigor, fear-scent coming off him in waves. The black and white tom stayed, blinking at them curiously.

"You're all so... dramatic," he said.

Brickfang's bellow came from beyond the trees. "Come on, Doug!"

Doug shrugged and scrambled after them.

Weaselstar fell back on her haunches, shaking like a newborn fawn. She didn't know whether to be grateful or not. That could've gone a lot worse. She glanced at Ice Cube, who was looking like the world was falling at his paws. But it could've been a lot better.

She reached out a paw to comfort him, but Ice Cube moved away. "I- I need to talk to Pringles about this. Alone," he murmured. "Don't tell the kits about any of this. Please."

Weaselstar dipped her head. She knew what it was like to have family secrets. "What could I possibly say? We saw some prickly jerks at the border. Nothing special."

He flashed her a grateful look.

"I should've talked about this with you," Adderpelt admitted sheepishly. The warrior had been hurt and sad by how Elmkit had wriggled away from his daily grooming, and so Weaselstar had been the one to quietly explain the morning's events. "It's not- I mean, I barely even know her. I don't know why she's so persistent."

Weaselstar sighed, rubbing her muzzle. "Partridge joined because she wanted kits, and you adopted the entire nursery. I think it's kind of obvious."

"Oh." He looked at his paws contemplatively, then her. "Would you... be upset if I went for it?"

Yes, something inside her howled, but Weaselstar squashed that down. Adderpelt was her friend. It would be cruel to ruin his chance at a relationship. "I think the kits are a bit upset, but they'll live. Partridge is a nice molly. I think you could be a great couple."

"Oh, I dunno about couple," Adderpelt hastened to say. "But I would like to have my own kits. I love our babies so, so much, and having ones related to me wouldn't negate that, but..."

Weaselstar shoved his shoulder. "Hey. You don't have to explain anything, alright? To anyone."

"Not even the leader of ShadowClan?" he teased, eyes glinting.

"Oh, especially her. I hear she's a bit of a numbskull."

Adderpelt chuckled into her scruff. They'd become quite accustomed to sleeping together by now, and his favorite headrest had become her shoulder blades. "I heard about the patrol. Sounds rough."

"Territorial idiots being territorial idiots," she reported. Weaselstar tried not to think about Melonfrost- about someone so willing to shove her family aside for the next shiny thing to cross her path. "...I'm scared, Adderpelt. The kits will be apprentices soon. I don't want them to risk their lives over this."

"That's what being a warrior is all about, isn't it?"

"Maybe. I just don't want them to feel like they have to choose sides, and I really don't want them getting hurt because Spiderstar has a burr up his butt." She paused. "I wish we had a real medicine cat. I wish I could trust Dew to be a real medicine cat."

"Has StarClan offered up any options?"

Weaselstar shook her head. She hadn't discussed the hesitant offer from RiverClan with anyone yet; it didn't take the wisest warrior to know Dew would never willingly go live in RiverClan for an entire Leaf-bare, especially under strict watch.

"I can do it."

They quickly untangled themselves to stare, bug-eyed, at a wide-awake Spottedkit. Weaselstar gaped down at her. "Spottedkit! How much did you hear?"

"Everything. All the time." Spottedkit blinked passively at them. "I talk to all sorts of weird stuff. That's what being a medicine cat is, right?"

Adderpelt sent her a look. Weaselstar bit her lip. It wasn't that they didn't think Spottedkit might want to become a medicine cat someday- her connection to the afterlife was still as strong as ever- but neither cat wanted her to pressure her into the role. "You don't have to do that, sweetie. You can be a warrior if you want to."

Spottedkit's tiny nose wrinkled. "But warriors don't see weird stuff."

"Your powers may... lessen," Adderpelt said hesitantly. "Lots of kits see ghosts at your age, and a lot of them become warriors. You'll just see things.. not as much."

Or at all, Weaselstar thought.

"I don't want that. I like the weird stuff." Spottedkit casually crawled between them, kneading herself a place to nuzzle into. "I'm gonna be a great medicine cat."

Weaselstar carefully rubbed her daughter's speckled pelt with her nose.

"The best," she promised.

Chapter Text

It was a surprisingly warm day for Leaf-fall. Anyone with two bits between their ears was using it to sun themselves; Pinethroat was purring happily in the clearing while Mossytooth snored on his back, paws dangling. Ted had Huggy Bear in one paw and Picklekit in the other, grooming aer with sleepy strokes that trailed off into bleps. Squirrelwhisker was loafed outside of the nursery, actually looking somewhat happy for once.

Weaselstar was pacing, because some would claim she lacked a relax button.

"Squirrelwhisker," she meowed. "You've been a warrior for a long time."

"Calling out my age when I'm too sleepy to claw your eyes out? Well played."

"I mean that you've been part of a lot of patrols. Like. A criminal amount of patrols. And you're, well, you. You must've caused plenty of fights."

Squirrelwhisker cracked an eyelid, unimpressed.

"How do I start a fight?" Weaselstar asked in one big mush. "With all the issues with ThunderClan, and prey starting to peter out, I just need... ShadowClan has to take a stand. How do I do that?"

"Have you tried yelling 'fight me bitch!' and punching the first warrior you can?" Squirrelwhisker replied. "Always worked for me."

"I'm pretty sure leaders aren't supposed to cuss."

"Yesterday you told the sky to fuck off when it rained on patrol."

"I'm not supposed to cuss around the other Clans," she amended.

"Then I'm fresh out of ideas." Squirrelwhisker rolled over, tail flicking up dust. "Why not go talk to StarClan or whatever?"

Weaselstar paused, considering the idea. It wouldn't hurt. Not counting dreams, I've not seen or heard from StarClan since I fell into the Moonpool. It's not like I can send Dew to convene with them either. "Maybe I will."

"Great. Go chat with dead cats and let me nap in peace." She waved her off with a paw.

The ShadowClan leader approached the medicine den with quite a bit of trepidation, poking her head inside. Dew's thick pelt meant the molly was hiding away from the daylight entirely; she looked like a giant mop of fur on the floor. "Hey, mom? You wouldn't've happened to figure out the herbs for traveling, would you?"

"Sorrel, daisy, chamomile and burnet," she rattled off. Weaselstar stared at her. "What? Those are the easy ones. S'just some tiny flowers and ugly green leaves."

"Nothing, I'm just... surprised. You're making more progress than I expected."

Dew huffed and sat up. "I said I'd stay here, didn't I? Wasn't gonna spend my last few moons here sitting on my ass all day." Padding over to the stores, Dew grumbled and shoved bits and scraps to the side. Weaselstar didn't spot any kind of order to the madness. "Going to get more outsiders?"

Weaselstar ignored the jab, ears flat. "I'm off to see StarClan."

"Imagine there's worse ways to spend the day than staring at a puddle," she replied. Dew was slowly coming around to the idea of weird supernatural forces, having seen the ghastly scar Beetooth had given her, but a leopard can't change its spots. "What do these ghosts got that you don't have here?"

"Suggestions on how to start a fight, for one."

"You ever try yelling 'fight me bitch' and sluggin' the first cat you see?"

Weaselstar sucked in a deep, exasperated breath.

The night was decently warm as well. Weaselstar hardly noticed it as she walked through the territories- the afternoon turning into evening, the evening turning into early night. She kept to herself, carefully avoiding any potential infractions. Even the slightest brush of leaves had her pelt tingling. She didn't think leaders went to the Moonpool to ask for tips very often. As far as she knew, only medicine cats visited very often.

Trotting up the well-worn pathway, Weaselstar blinked back the glow of moonlight as it reached the waters. The world is so quiet here. Not even the crickets chirped. Everything smelled like sandalwood. Her shoulders slumped, tension ebbing away. She hadn't realized how much she missed StarClan until she was brushing pelts with it.

Loafing on the edge, Weaselstar brushed the waters with the tip of her nose. There was no gentle dip into sleep here- one moment she was normal, the next she was infinitesimal. Her paws barely seemed to brush the grass. Quiet whispering echoed through green leaves as Shadows trotted between the branches.

"Brackenstar?" she called, a bit confused.

"He won't speak to you."

Weaselstar whirled around as Beethroat appeared, expression stormy. "What? Why?"

The calico shook her head. "He's decided to be all huffy about taking in outsiders. I told him he was being a hypocrite- that his successor was full-blooded loner- but I guess he felt you were the exception."

Weaselstar worked her claws into the dirt. Even StarClan is against my choices. "Is that... did I do something wrong?"

"Not wrong," she replied sharply. "It's rare that every leader agrees with a single choice. Brackenstar just happens to be the only leader you have to guide you, is all. He'll move past it soon."

The enormity of the situation buzzed underneath Weaselstar's skin as she flopped back on her haunches, puffing out some air. To think that she was somehow supposed to rebuild the Clan- not just the cats alive with her, but in the stars as well. She had to cobble a legacy out of some pine trees. "I was, uh. Hoping for some guidance. I can't exactly send a medicine cat to commune with you guys, so... here I am."

Beethroat's whiskers twitched with humor. "I've seen your medicine cat. She's a capable cat. Stern. Just... not big into the spiritual stuff."

"Spottedkit is going to be joining her in a few moons. Then we can start really hearing the stars."

"When that day comes, I have a few Shadows I'd like you to bless. They were medicine cats in life; they can guide her in ways Brackenstar and I simply can't." She cleared her throat. "But that's for the future. What ails you today, Weaselstar?"

"How do I start a fight?" she asked, desperate for a concrete answer.

Beethroat slowly blinked at her. Another blink. A few too many blinks, she thought. "You've sought the aid of the stars... for a brawl?"

"I just- I don't know all the protocols! Is there, like, a thing to say, or a way to properly challenge someone, or-"

"Weaselstar," she purred. "This isn't a code or a warrior name. It's a part of life. You don't ask StarClan how to pick fur from your teeth, do you?"

"I've never- I've never started a fight," she admitted.

"Have you tried yelling 'fight me bitch' and slapping the first cat you see?" Beethroat meowed.

Weaselstar let out a whine and covered her face with her paw. "Now you're just being a dick."

"Weaselstar," Beethroat said quietly. "Why is this so troubling? You can start this fight when your Clan is ready."

"Because we don't have time!" she blurted out. Beethroat stepped back, eyes wide. Weaselstar instantly felt ashamed, shrinking down. Her ears flew back. "It's not... Leaf-bare is coming every day. We need to strike out now, to set up boundaries before-"

"Before your daughters are old enough?"

She flinched. "Yeah. Before then." Weaselstar cleared her throat, trying to inject conviction into her voice. "I know I can't show favoritism- I know, I know. But this is such a mess, and it's not their fault. They shouldn't have to fight their grandfather for a choice their parents made."

"Some would argue that's favoritism in its own right," Beethroat pointed out. "Weaselstar. No one is forcing Spiderstar to do these things. No one is making him take land that will rip food from his grandkits' mouths. Spiderstar is fully aware of his choices and how they will affect the dynamic between himself and your children. The only ones who aren't aware is the children. You can't stuff cotton in their ears forever."

"I just... I want them to have family left. My mom's leaving, Sweetshine's parents died, and Spiderstar-"

Beethroat flicked her ear dismissively. "Is no family of yours. Pull out that cotton, Weaselstar. Before it's too late."

The world swirled, twisted, and Weaselstar was wide awake, pulling her head away from the waves with a gasp.

Slumping into her nest, Weaselstar let out a bedraggled sigh. Halfway across the damn Clans and she knew about as much as she did this morning. The kits glommed on like honey to a branch, climbing up and all over her tired limbs.

"Squirrelwhisker said you went to see StarClan," Spottedkit whispered.

"No, she didn't," Honeykit shot back, kicking her, "Squirrelwhisker said Weaselmama has a weak punch and she went to learn how to do it better."

"It was both," Weaselstar confirmed. "But my punch is as weak as ever."

Elmkit calmly loafed across her back. Despite being less-than-pleased with the current state of affairs, the brown and white tabby still enjoyed the cuddling, and she'd refused to stop even while angry. "That's why you gotta sneak up on them! I bite Honeykit's tail all the time."

"Don't bite your brother's tail."

"Yes, mama," she intoned. Weaselstar felt she should've been more specific as the kit glanced at Honeykit's back paws. "Your teeth are scarier than your paws anyway."

Weaselstar chuckled and clacked her fangs. "That... might be a great idea, Elmkit."

"Of course it is!" she meowed. "But, uh, which part? Chewing on Honeykit?"

"A sneak attack," she replied.

Chapter Text

It took a solid two days' journey to find what she needed. On one paw, Weaselstar was grateful that there was no risk of said danger near her Clan. But on the other paw, it made it difficult. Not helping matters was a slowly dipping temperature as the world descended into Leaf-fall. Wouldn't be long now until snow started to fall. Wouldn't be long before her kits were apprentices.

Weaselstar walked faster.

Finally, on the cusp of the second day, she found what she was looking for. Perched precariously close to a Thunderpath was a small hole, and that hole reeked of badgers. Just drenched in the smell. She'd found her burrow. Weaselstar darted inside, fur prickling as it washed over her. The chances of badgers being around were never zero, but this time of year they were busy collecting food. Badgers didn't hibernate, but they did slow down a lot in Leafbare. It was as good a chance as any.

Empty. Thank the stars.

Creeping forward, Weaselstar dug her claws into the creature's nest. She ripped chunks of it free, laying it across her back and in her maw. The taste made her want to retch. The nest is, as expected, the epicenter of the reek. She took as much as she could carry and sprinted away. Weaselstar thought she might have heard a low grumble follow her as she vanished into the early evening.

Dovefrost was waiting at the border as she returned, looking harried. Weaselstar felt a burst of warmth for the white molly; she must've spent every night waiting for her, sitting in that exact same spot. There had been no promises of when she'd get back. The temporary deputy was purring as she approached, swatting her shoulder.

"I'd nuzzle you but you smell like mouse-dung," she meowed. "Never leave me again. Leading is so tiring."

"Help me find a place to put this?"

"I'll find a place, but I'm not touching it."

Together the mollies choose a little grassy patch just outside of ThunderClan's inflated territory line. Weaselstar mixed the nest bits into the foliage, shaking it out across the leaves and bushes. Dovefrost watched with disgust as it all settled.

"They'll find all that on dawn patrol," she warned.

"I know," Weaselstar replied primly. "But they won't find the den. Which means they'll be back."

Weaselstar rolled in the grass for a bit of extra stench and stumbled back to camp with exhausted limbs and mind. Dovefrost tried to update her on what all had happened in ShadowClan while she was gone, but it kind of went in one ear and out the other. She padded over to the nursery and flopped onto her nest, pulling a squealing Larkkit close like a stuffed toy.

"Mama's so tired," she whined into the silver and white molly's fur.

"You're always tired," snipped Elmkit, having been woken up by her.

Her eyes slid half-mast. She noticed, dimly, that Adderpelt was in a seperate nest. When had he built one? He was purring and snoring as he wound himself around Partridge. Weaselstar huffed out a little laugh. Even when he was off courting, he had to make sure the kittens were close. He was a good tom.

Weaselstar's head fell to the side and she conked out.

"It's not that I don't understand," Ted said at length. "But maybe you could explain it again? For old time's sake."

Weaselstar huffed out a small laugh. She could hardly blame the kittypet for being a bit lost. There was clearly a divide between the groups. Her warriors- Squirrelwhisker, Fogfur, Bumblestorm and Ratfoot- were all bright-eyed and gleaming, working their claws into the dirt; while the loners- Ice Cube, Partridge, and Ted- all were looking around and seeking answers. Clan life was still very new to them.

"We're taking back our border," she said. "I've laid some badger smell across a patch of grass to draw in a patrol. The patrol will be busy sniffing for badgers to notice us- and we're going in from above."

"Right," he meowed, looking a bit faint. "And by above, you mean..."

She pointed her tail towards the treetops.

"Right, right. That is... I'm sorry, Weaselstar. I've never climbed a tree."

"That's okay, Ted," she reassured him. "You'll be with me. I'll help anyone who can't climb."

He swallowed, clearly nervous, and dipped his head. Weaselstar admired the tom's willingness to do whatever was needed, but she couldn't help a little smile at the image of Ted- a very fluffy, very chunky cat- hanging on for dear life in the branches. The rest of the group got up just fine, even Partridge- which she'd learned was an 'outdoor cat', an odd middle-ground Twolegs sometimes gave their pets. Ice Cube's eyes were glowing with curiosity as he flexed his claws, hopping to another branch just to see if he could do it. Fogfur stumbled under the sudden shake and glared at him.

Now the fun part. The wait.

Time ticked by slowly. Ice Cube continued to hop from branch to branch, almost missing twice. Partridge stared, unblinking, at the ground below, as if terrified it would swoop up and eat her if she didn't. Ted loosened his claws slightly, looking less than pleased as he sat up, back paws dangling below. Fogfur gave a few experimental jumps to shake the branch, irritating Bumblestorm enough for her to hop over to Ratfoot, the tom patiently watching all of them. Weaselstar batted a twig between her paws while Squirrelwhisker hissed about the awkward seating.

Her ears pricked as she heard voices.

"-Don't see how this is our problem," Brickfang's deep mew wafted up. The ginger tom padded into view with a derisive twist of his muzzle.

"It'll be our problem if the thing went further into ThunderClan territory," Smokescar informed him primly. Ratfoot's ears pinned back as his father sniffed delicately at the foliage. "Maybe it went into ShadowClan. Wouldn't hurt my feelings."

Doug flounced over to the bracken as Partridge maneuvered herself to be above Brickfang. The tiny tom didn't look convinced. "Never heard of a badger that threw tantrums. Maybe some prey got ahold of an old nest."

Bubblestone was the last to appear, fur bushed out nervously. He was flanked by Nutstripe. "I hope that's all it is."

Ice Cube slithered over beside Weaselstar, ready to pounce. He nodded.

"ShadowClan, attack!"

The air fell out from under her as she went flying out of the tree, claws outstretched. Weaselstar's stomach dropped as multiple heads twisted up to see the commotion. She could see the dawning horror in their eyes as they fell. Nutstripe buckled under her weight, throwing them both to the ground with a dull thud that had them rolling. Weaselstar fastened her teeth into the light ginger's ear as cats rolled and yowled around her.

"Cowards!" hissed Smokescar, throwing Fogfur off his back.

"You're the coward!" countered Ratfoot, showing off every tooth he had. "We wouldn't even have to do this if you just stuck to your territory!"

"Ratpaw-"

"My name is Ratfoot!" he yelled, pouncing. The two vanished in a blur of black fur.

Weaselstar surveyed the rest of the battle. Brickfang had also survived the fall from Partridge, swinging her back and forth while taking big steps. Doug was firmly squished under Bumblestorm. Squirrelwhisker was slicing into Brickfang's muzzle, yelling words too rude for Weaselstar to repeat. Smokescar and Ratfoot were constantly vying for control, pushing one another down and around. Nutstripe lay still and tense under her. Ice Cube darted between the duo, nicking Smokescar's haunches.

She caught sight of Bubblestone, slowly backing away. "Don't let him get reinforcements!"

Ted broke free from helping Squirrelwhisker to tackle Bubblestone head on, the tom's superior size flattening the gray tom underneath him. Nutstripe took her momentary lapse to jump to his paws, flinging her away.

"Why can't you leave us alone?" Nutstripe wailed, sinking his teeth into her shoulder.

Weaselstar felt the familiar warmth of pain beneath her tendons and howled, bashing her head into his. He stumbled away as she righted herself. "My Clan will survive!"

Brickfang laughed, having finally sunk his claws into Partridge's shoulders. He threw the molly into Squirrelwhisker and sneered at her. "With a bunch of weak house pets?" He crouched and threw himself at her, bowling Weaselstar to the ground. Brickfang smiled wide as he raised a claw to bash her head in. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

Weaselstar unsheathed her claws and launched them into his stomach. Brickfang screeched, giving her time to wiggle out from underneath him. Her claws sunk deep into his muscular side. "Better weak house pets than cruel monsters!"

"I take that as a compliment," he replied. The gush of blood seemed to just make Brickfang fight harder, ramming her wounded shoulder with his thick skull. She could see red dripping down his thighs. "C'mere. I'll show you just what kind of monster I am."

He took a step forward, and in that instant Ice Cube was on Brickfang's back. Then Squirrelwhisker. The two buried their faces into his neck and spine, digging in. Brickfang roared and stumbled back, shaking hard to try and remove them. Weaselstar could see deep red marks on his shoulders from them holding on.

"Don't kill him!" she cried out, alarmed, just as Smokescar wrestled himself free of Ratfoot and bellowed, "Retreat!"

The world seemed to turn quiet as the ThunderClan cats gathered themselves together and fled. Brickfang glared spitefully at them as Doug led him away, both bleeding heavily. The only uninjured cat seemed to be Bubblestone; who had fared with nothing but perhaps a few bruises.

Squirrelwhisker stomped up, tail lashing. "You listen to me, Weaselstar," she hissed lowly. "I'm not going to let ShadowClan die because of a thick-brained brute getting the drop on us. If he ever comes near me again, I'll wear his pet like a collar."

Weaselstar stared at her, open-mouthed. Her gaze slowly trailed over her companions. Ice Cube was bleeding from the shoulder and back leg. Bumblestorm had some mild scratches, helping Ratfoot gimp over with a twisted paw. Partridge was stumbling after being thrown and Ted had some small wounds from Brickfang's teeth. Weaselstar had a deep bite wound and likely a twisted shoulder from the headbutt. She realized, with a sudden sinking feeling, that despite having more cats they'd barely won.

She slowly nodded. "Let's mark those borders. On the edge of the Thunderpath, where they belong."

"I thought all you did was fix dens!" Elmkit meowed. Her eyes had been shiny with respect since they got home. "Mama, you're amazing!"

"I'm very sore," she admitted, bending down to lick between her daughter's ears. "But I'm not tired anymore, so you'll get lots of stories tonight."

Dew came out with a mouthful of herbs- followed close behind by Spottedkit doing the same. "You're not tired because your body is in 'aaaaaa I'm gonne die' mode, dumbass. Maybe you should tell me before you do stuff like this, huh? Let me lay out some herbs?"

"We weren't talking," she meowed, but it sounded silly as soon as she said it. "I'm sorry, mom. I need to stop thinking of you as a random cat. You're my medicine cat."

"I'm your medicine mom," Dew corrected blandly. "Now go do that big speech thing leaders do after fights like this."

Weaselstar took a look around the area. Everyone was already here. She twitched her tail dismissively at the thought of jumping onto that branch and instead spoke at a slightly higher volume. "We faced our first serious battle today, guys. And we won!"

"Yay," meowed Ashpaw, quietly.

She turned to Ice Cube. "Our new friends are the reason we can stand tall against ThunderClan. I understand if any of you might feel a bit nervous, but I'd like to reward you. Anyone who wants a warrior name, step forward."

Ted got to his paws so fast he almost fell on his face. Partridge eagerly crowded in as well. Out of the corner of her eye, Weaselstar could make out Pringles grabbing Picklekit to avoid having aer join them.

"Ted, Partridge," she meowed, the two jumping as if she'd shouted. "Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Ted dipped his head.

"I do," Partridge meowed, but looked a bit unsure.

Weaselstar touched her nose to the tom's forehead. "Ted, from this moment on you will be known as Tedwing. StarClan honors your kindness and good heart, and we welcome you as a full member of ShadowClan." Tedwing licked her shoulder, making Weaselstar swear as it brushed her wound. She nosed Partridge. "Partridge, from this moment on you will be known as Partridgepelt. StarClan honors your adaptability and care, and we welcome you as a full member of ShadowClan." Her gaze swept over the rest of the loners. "We welcome all of you as full members of ShadowClan."

"Tedwing! Partridgepelt!" Hootpaw called. "Tedwing! Partridgepelt!"

The Clan slowly joined in. Weaselstar led the call, feeling more sure of her place than ever.

Chapter Text

"Mama! Mama!"

Sharp teeth sunk into Weaselstar's ear, tugging hard. Weaselstar grumbled and went to roll over, only to find a fluffy black body on her side. Honeykit was vibrating with the sheer level of purring going on.

"Mama, wake up! You gotta!"

Teeth in her ear again. Weaselstar moaned and covered her face. "Leab me 'lone," she slurred.

"Mama!"

A solid paw kicked her wounded shoulder and she yipped, sitting up with bleary eyes. Weaselstar stared down at five wriggling bundles of fur. Elmkit's fur was so shiny she was glossy as she headed the crowd, not even slightly sorry for kicking her. Spottedkit eyes were almost entirely black with dilated pupils. Honeykit slunk off her back and immediately wrapped his paws around Larkkit to stand up on her shoulders, the molly letting out a little 'oof'. Larkkit's pelt was so fluffy Weaselstar honestly couldn't make out the kitten underneath. Featherkit was trying to wriggle between her sisters and failing.

"Alright," she meowed, a bit put off by the crowd. "What's up?"

Sweetshine laughed in her ear. "Look outside."

Weaselstar squinted out the nursery. The sun wasn't even out yet, leaving the area thick and dark. She could easily make out the dens, but specifics were against her.

Then the first flake fell.

It fluttered to the ground, deceptively innocent. More followed, sprinkling down in tiny pieces that were melting as soon as they touched the dirt. Weaselstar's throat seized as she realized that it was, in fact, snowing.

"But..." she said, lost. "But it's so early."

"You promised!" Featherkit piped up. "Apprentices when the first snow falls! You promised."

"You did promise," Sweetshine reminded her. As if Weaselstar had ever forgotten.

"Well, of course," she replied. "But it's still Leaf-fall."

"Maybe, but the snow is still there."

"I feel like I said something about it sticking first."

Sweetshine fixed her a no-nonsense look.

"Right. I guess we're doing this."

The kits broke into excited cheers, stumbling into the dark clearing in one big clump. Weaselstar watched them go with her heart hurting. It felt like just yesterday she'd given birth to them- now she had to send them out into the world and watch them thrive.

"Have you thought of their mentors?" Sweetshine asked gently.

Weaselstar let out a low groan between her paws, because that was making her heart hurt too. "Who the hell is gonna teach five kids?" she despaired.

The calico snorted at her plight, clearly less than impressed. "Have you thought about the kittypets at all?"

"They just got here! Half of them can't even fight worth a damn. It's too soon."

"You have to bring them into Clan life somehow, Weasel," Sweetshine reminded her. "They're full-grown cats."

She growled low in her throat at the thought of giving them anything less than a proper education. Sure, they were being watched closely, and any mistakes would be swiftly corrected, but that meant a pawful of mentors for one kitten. It'd get confusing. "Maybe it can wait until Pringles and Ice Cube's kits are old enough?"

"Weasel, that's favoritism."

Weaselstar swore under her breath. She hated that it was true. She wanted, more than anything, to give her kits the best of everything. She was forced to come to terms with the fact that she understood where Spiderstar had been coming from, and she had to stop herself from doing more of the same. Being leader isn't what it's cracked up to be.

She shifted her muzzle so it wouldn't be squished into the moss. "It's gonna be weird seeing you do warrior stuff."

"I know. Isn't it great?" Sweetshine was purring now, eyes bright. "I didn't get to do all that patrolling and hunting before I got pregnant. I can't wait to catch frogs with the kids and beat the dung out of the neighbors over scent lines."

It was getting really hard not to smile. "I'm starting to see where Larkkit gets it from."

A calico paw reached out to bat at her ears. "Up and at 'em, we need to get you all gussied up."

Despite the sprinkling of snow, the clearing was in high spirits when Weaselstar stumbled out, fur slick and shiny. The kits were crowded in front of the Pinebranch, shoving and nudging each other excitedly. Behind them was Tedwing and Ratfoot, cheerfully chattering on about something unheard. Pringles was grooming Ice Cube just outside the nursery, kits tumbling around his paws. Partridgepelt was vibrating at the back of the crowd, whispering something to Adderpelt. Weaselstar squished down some feelings of jealousy and kept moving.

Squirrelwhisker was lecturing Hootpaw about something, the molly squinting to avoid rolling her eyes. Dew sat at the very front for once in her life, craning her head to stare at Dovefrost. Birchfoot looked up from a piece of prey and hurriedly groomed his muzzle while Fogfur laughed at his blunder. Pinethroat and Mossytooth pushed their way to the very front to hear better.

"I don't need to call anyone, do I?" she uttered as she reached the front. A ripple of amusement took over the clearing; everyone had been looking forward to today, and she didn't doubt the kits had woken half the camp themselves beforehand to make sure they knew exactly what was happening. "This is the one of the greatest days of my life. I can't tell you how many nights I've spent awake thinking about it." Half of those nights had been worrying, but the Clan didn't need to hear her fussing over her babies. The parents all nodded along understandingly. Her eyes swept across them all as she made her final choices. "Honeykit, Larkkit, you're older. Step forward."

Honeykit almost tripped in his haste to move closer, Larkkit giggling beside him. The Clan grew silent as Weaselstar raised her tail authoritatively. "Larkkit, from this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Larkpaw. Your mentor will be Bumblestorm. I hope she will pass on her strength of heart and mind onto you."

Larkpaw ran over to the dark gray tabby, unintentionally crashing their skulls together in her desperation to brush noses. Bumblestorm laughed and pulled back with a lick to her ear, gesturing for the new apprentice to sit next to her.

"Honeykit, from this day forward, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Honeypaw. Partridgepelt, I know you're new to the Clan, but I think your sense of duty and care will make you a great mentor."

Honeypaw moved much more carefully to meet with his mentor, though his limbs quivered with excitement. Weaselstar just barely heard Elmkit whisper, "You got a kitty-pet!" in a sing-song voice as he sat down.

"Shut up," he groused.

Weaselstar sent her daughter a sharp look. Elmkit groomed her chest fur sheepishly and stepped forward alongside her sisters. "Featherkit, from this day forward, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Featherpaw. Your mentor will be Ice Cube. You may be new to Clan life, but I think you show great promise with your exuberance and bold nature."

The black molly didn't seem nearly as concerned about her choice of mentor as Honeypaw. She trotted right up to Ice Cube, bumping noses in a friendly manner. A tiny flash of pink tongue told Weaselstar he'd given her a little lick between the ears.

Elmkit was the last of the non-medicine cat apprentices, and it showed in her nerves as she stared up at her mother. Weaselstar smiled reassuringly. "Elmkit, from this day forward, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Elmpaw. Your mentor will be Fogfur. I know she will pass on her bravery and flexible-thinking onto you."

Fogfur had had the misfortune of sitting in the very back, and it took a minute of reshuffling for her to push to the front, knocking cats to the side with her paws. She grinned wildly at Weaselstar, as if she also remembered talking about mentoring one of her kits, and met Elmpaw with a purr.

Only one more to go. Weaselstar felt oddly exhausted as her final daughter padded forward. "Spottedkit, do you accept the post of apprentice to Dew?"

Spottedkit's whiskers twitched. "I do."

"Then I name you Spottedpaw. At the half-moon, you must travel to the Moonpool to be accepted by StarClan before the other medicine cats. The good wishes of all of ShadowClan go with you!"

Dew shuffled forward like a decrepit elder, just barely bending her head down to present her nose. Spottedpaw stood on tippy-paw to bump them together. Weaselstar swallowed a bite of frustration at how her mother was acting. Could she at least pretend to be enthusiastic? This is her granddaughter! She threw her head back and focused on chanting. "Larkpaw! Honeypaw! Featherpaw! Elmpaw! Spottedpaw!"

ShadowClan took up the names as the new apprentices broke their respectful stance. Elmpaw immediately tackled Honeypaw, the duo falling into playful wrestling. Featherpaw chatted excitedly to Larkpaw and Spottedpaw, the former nodding along while the latter purred. The new mentors all immediately came together to discuss training, Ice Cube and Partridgepelt looking a bit nervous. Weaselstar felt her heart twist as her kits prepared to see the territory for the very first time.

They're getting so big.

The last Gathering had been pretty quiet. After Spiderstar's bold proclamation of the kittypets joining his Clan, a quiet assertion of Partridgepelt and Tedwing's names had gone with little fanfare. She'd seen other warriors chatting casually with the newcomers, and she knew they were slowly making friends amidst the other Clans.

But tonight was going to be a bit more interesting. Weaselstar didn't doubt that Spiderstar was going to say something about the five new apprentices, especially with half of them being his own kin. She'd made sure to bring all seven of them to avoid favoritism, but it did leave her group looking a bit fresh-faced. It also felt weird to have Spottedpaw standing next to her as medicine cat, as Dew refused to join them.

RiverClan was waiting for them by the Greenleaf Twolegplace, as they usually were. Briarstar was looking thinner than ever as she led the patrol to meet up with ShadowClan, whiskers twitching in a vague greeting. Weaselstar knew, logically, that RiverClan was hit the hardest during Leaf-bare, but it was one thing to hear it and another to see the normally strong leader looking like a stiff breeze could knock her over.

"Evenin'," she rumbled, and her voice was a deep as ever. "Lots of kids tonight, huh?"

"My kids," Weaselstar meowed sheepishly. "It's their first Gathering."

A gentle mrrow of laughter drew her attention to a gray tom. He was taller than Briarstar by an ear-length, with bushy muzzle fur. "They're precious." He paused, seeming to realize he was breaking into the moment, and flattened his ears sheepishly.

Briarstar snorted, gesturing with a paw. "Minnowheart, my new deputy."

"Ah," said Weaselstar, who had the sudden realization that she had never seen this tom before in her life. I really need to make more connections. "It's an honor."

"Honor's mine," he meowed with a twinkle in his eye.

The joined patrols got moving soon after. Weaselstar felt a prickle of uncertainty amidst the RiverClan cats. Are we really putting out the right energy here? What if the other Clans think we're relying on RiverClan just to survive? She didn't want anyone to think ShadowClan was free to push around, or that they needed RiverClan.

As if reminding her that they did in fact need RiverClan, Briarstar meowed, "Have you decided on whether you're sending us a medicine cat?"

"Um." Weaselstar stared at her paws, brain churning. Somehow, talking to the other leaders had the side effect of making her feel like an apprentice who missed a hunting lesson. "Not- not yet. My medicine cat is against the idea."

"Aren't you in charge? Just tell her to go."

"She's my mom."

"Ah," said Briarstar, nodding. "That does change some things. I can't keep this offer goin' all season, though. How about this; I'll give you 'til the new moon. Gives your medicine cat some time to connect with StarClan and chat with Webflower. I'll bring a patrol 'round the Greenleaf Twolegplace, just like I do every Gathering. No one comes, nothing personal. I'll make it a hunting patrol. If she does-"

"We'll feed her," she meowed, feeling something hollow open up in her belly. She wasn't sure if Dew would even be willing to consider it.

"Atta girl, rebel. You're good stuff." Briarstar hopped onto the log that led to the island. "But you're sittin' next to the prick this time."

Which one? Almost slipped out, but Weaselstar saw how the RiverClan molly's gaze immediately locked on Rainstar. She picked up the pace to meet her old friend, climbing the Great Oak in neat little hops. Guess that means I'm sitting next to Spiderstar.

Feeling more confident about the climb every moon that passed, Weaselstar hauled herself into place and looked out across the clearing. ShadowClan and RiverClan had been the last to arrive, yet it was too soon to call the Gathering into motion. Scents weaved through her nose as the various Clans mingled. Mindful of her mistake with Minnowheart, she kept a close eye on the roots of the tree, counting the deputies in her mind. Beetooth and Dovefrost were exchanging formal pleasantries, and Minnowheart padded over to join them. Last of all was tiny, sleek light brown she-cat with a darker face, paws, and long tail, which easily wound around her paws. She didn't seem interested in greeting anyone.

Weaselstar racked her brain to try and remember that molly's name. She hadn't exactly been popular as an apprentice, so she'd never had a lot of friends to chat with at Gatherings. She'd spent most of them sulking in the corner, embarrassed for the scar across her throat. She'd not been paying attention, and she was paying for it now.

"Rainstar," she murmured gently, catching the WindClan tom's attention. "This is going to sound mouse-brained, but what is your deputy's name?"

He blinked at her, confused. "Woodwhisker," he said after a pause, during which he was clearly rethinking his earlier support of her leadership. Weaselstar's pelt like it was on fire. "You really didn't know that?"

"I didn't get out much as a kid," she said quickly.

Weaselstar caught Spottedpaw confidently padding up to the gathered medicine cats. She recognized Mintfern and Webflower at a distance, but the remaining ginger also eluded her. They all perked up as she neared; Mintfern waved her tail in greeting, Webflower smiled cheerfully, and the ginger raised a paw to wave.

Rainstar, perhaps trying to help, meowed, "That's Copperdawn. They've been a medicine cat since before you were born."

"Ah," she said, feeling about two paws tall, "That's right. Thank you, Rainstar."

Spiderstar shifted beside her. He hadn't said anything during the whole interaction, but waves of disdain were flowing off him. He cleared his throat. "So, uh. Kids are finally old enough to be 'paws, huh?"

Weaselstar blinked at him, surprised. It was the most normal thing he'd said since they'd split. "Uh, yes. Six moons."

"We should. Start that thing up again."

"Thing?"

"You know, meeting up! That little half-gathering thing you proposed, on the quarter-moon." He cracked an awkward smile. "Not on my territory, of course. But you get it."

She stared at him a long second, floored. This was by and large the calmest Spiderstar had been about ShadowClan since she restarted it. Is he seriously only willing to do this now that it benefits him? It seemed ridiculous that he had put the topic off until the kids were old enough to be apprentices. "Where would you suggest?"

"How about the Thunderpath? ThunderClan on one side, ShadowClan on the other. We can meet between monsters."

That sounded dangerous. Weaselstar opened her mouth to say as much, but Spiderstar didn't bother to let her respond, calling for the Gathering to begin. She was somehow as angry as she was confused.

"I've got a lot to announce," he told her, then winked, and Weaselstar felt so very out of her element.

"Don't we all?" Rainstar mumbled, then raised his voice. "WindClan will go first."

Emptiness roared in her ears as the tom spoke. She was happy to see Spiderstar had calmed down finally, and it would do the Clans good to keep families together, but she had absolutely no idea how to handle telling the kits about it. They barely even registered that Spiderstar was against them- would they understand just how complicated their relationship had become?

"-Minnowheart'll be taking over from here," Briarstar finished, and Weaselstar felt even more sheepish when she realized she'd not paid attention to two seperate announcements.

There was some murmuring below. Weaselstar blinked down at the whispering, wondering what the issue was. Minnowheart seemed nice enough when I met him.

"Isn't he Finchmask's son?" Spiderstar asked.

Cold water went down her spine. Finchmask was the name of the warrior that'd been banished for padding after a RiverClan tom. She was also Flintpoppy and Dovefrost's mother. That'd make him their brother, wouldn't it? I assume it's the same tom.

"So what if he is?" Briarstar replied, shrugging. "His loyalty is unshakeable, and I trust him to make the decisions he needs to make for this Clan." Briarstar flicked her tail to gesture to Weaselstar, clearly unwilling to hold any further debate. "ShadowClan's turn."

"Oh. Right! Um." Weaselstar straightened up and puffed out her chest. "ShadowClan has gotten a host of new apprentices: Larkpaw, Honeypaw, Featherpaw, and Elmpaw are future warriors, while Spottedpaw has chosen the path of medicine cat. The future of our Clan rests on their shoulders."

"Larkpaw! Honeypaw! Featherpaw! Elmpaw! Spottedpaw!" chanted the congregation.

"No pressure, then," Rainstar hummed. "Spiderstar, you've been wiggling all night. Spit it out already."

"We wanted to wait until we were sure," he told her quietly, then raised his voice to speak to the Clans. "The nursery has gotten full again. Flintpoppy has given me three beautiful daughters: Martinkit, Mothkit, and Maplekit. On top of which, Littleflower is pregnant and expecting at least two."

Weaselstar felt the wood under her paws dip out in shock as the night filled with chanting. She stared blankly at Spiderstar. Since when did he want more kits? Her eyes furiously traced across the clearing. Adderpelt had stayed home, but she could only guess how absolutely devastated he'd be to find out he had siblings. Last I heard the prefix Little, she was an apprentice. Spiderstar didn't make her a warrior only because she was pregnant, did he?

Perhaps sensing the concern sweeping the area, he snorted. "Oh, relax. Littleflower was fully grown when she came to us. She just wanted to be an apprentice for a little while."

"Well, uh, congratulations," Rainstar meowed.

"Congrats," echoed Briarstar.

"I didn't know you wanted more," slipped out of Weaselstar's mouth, unprompted.

Spiderstar's ear flicked dismissively. "I still need my heir. Now I have three to pick from- and I intend to raise them right this time."

The way he said it made her shudder. She didn't know what Spiderstar meant, exactly, but she doubted it was good.

Chapter Text

"We're having kits."

Weaselstar felt her stomach drop. Adderpelt was staring at her intently, one paw gently touching Partridgepelt's stomach. Partridgepelt blinked up at her with an eager, excited smile. She processed the words as slowly as a paw went through molasses, eyes traveling from her white belly to his soft green eyes. He was looking at her like she held the world in her paws, as if Weaselstar could swipe her foot and end his happiness in an instant.

He's done so much for me, she thought hollowly, giving herself a shake. The least I can do is be supportive, right?

Still, the words died on her tongue. Weaselstar couldn't help but feel devastated. It was silly, she knew, to be so possessive over Adderpelt- they were best friends, and it wasn't like Partridgepelt was aiming to come between that. But she couldn't help but feel like he was abandoning her and the kits. Elmpaw is going to be so furious.

She forced herself to smile. "Congratulations, guys!"

Partridgepelt broke into a rusty purr. "I'm so excited! I can't wait to meet them. Three moons feels so long, you know? But it's so short." She made a vague measurement with her paws. "They'll be so small!"

"Little paws," agreed Adderpelt, eyes still trained on Weaselstar. She found herself wishing he wouldn't look at her, that he would be so smitten with his future kittens he would ignore her. She didn't want him to see just how hurt she was. "Are you... okay?"

"I'm perfect," she lied. "I'm just surprised, seeing how it's so close to Leaf-bare."

Partridgepelt smiled. "I know you'll keep me safe, Weaselstar."

Swallowing down the force of that responsibility, that trust, Weaselstar forced herself to dip her head confidently. Everyone seems so sure I'll keep this Clan safe. Don't they realize just how dangerous the world really is? Nothing was stopping Spiderstar from barging into camp and causing mayhem. She shook herself. All she could do was keep putting one paw in front of the other and hope for the best. ShadowClan needs a leader. That's me... for some reason.

Gently reminded of the sheer number of responsibilities she held, Weaselstar stumbled into the clearing again. Her eyes desperately searched the area for something to focus on, something to get her mind off of Adderpelt and his green eyes. Pringles was chatting with Birchfoot over a scrawny crow, the duo splitting to avoid the slowly dwindling fresh-kill pile. Ice Cube demonstrated a front swipe to Featherpaw and Honeypaw. Tedwing, Bumblestorm, Squirrelwhisker and Fogfur were returning from the afternoon hunting patrol; the gray tabby's tail was wound proudly around Elmpaw, who held a scrawny vole in her teeth. Weaselstar made a mental note to congratulate her daughter later. Hootpaw and Ashpaw were practicing battle moves quietly in the corner, and she realized suddenly just how big they'd gotten. They'll be warriors by Newleaf at this rate.

Her excuse was found in Spottedpaw, who was politely listening to Pinethroat telling a story as she set some moist moss down for the blind molly to drink. Relieved, Weaselstar padded over to the elders' den, dipping her head respectfully to Mossytooth.

"Watch out," he rumbled. "We've got royal company."

"-And then I fell out of the tree," Pinethroat was mewing. She paused, nose wrinkling. "Weaselstar?"

"I'm not royal," she argued.

He waved her off with a gray-tipped paw. "Yes, yes, humbleness and all that. Let a tom make things easier on himself." Mossytooth grinned at her. "What can the old farts do for you, Weasel?"

"I was hoping to speak to Spottedpaw," she admitted. It felt mean to say she hadn't come over for them at all. Weaselstar turned to her youngest daughter. "Tonight's the half-moon. Are you excited to speak to StarClan?"

Spottedpaw grimaced, ears flattening. "Actually, I was hoping I could... skip it?"

"Skip it?" Pinethroat meowed, echoing everyone's surprise. "You can't just skip seeing StarClan! It's an important part of being a medicine cat! It's an important part of being in a Clan!"

Her face fell a bit further. "I know! I know. I just... wasn't able to convince Dew to take me this moon. I can't imagine going to the Moonpool alone."

Weaselstar swallowed a flash of rage at her mother. It was true, yes, that Dew didn't believe in StarClan. But, even with that in mind, what was she losing to go sit around a puddle for the night? Instead, she was making her apprentice feel insecure and alone. Spottedpaw's always seemed so unflappable. This must really be bothering her. "I'll go with you."

Spottedpaw blinked at her with trepidation and the smallest flicker of hope. "Won't that be weird? Showing up with my mom?"

"With your leader," she reminded her gently. Weaselstar drew Spottedpaw close and gave her a lick between the ears, fondly ignoring her displeasure. "I'll stay back and wait for you. I won't get in the way of the medicine cats."

"Well..." She shuffled her paws a moment. "If you say so, then I guess it's okay."

She laved a few more licks to her head before letting Spottedpaw go. She was quickly learning that some affection might be too much for teenagers. She hadn't exactly had a lot of practice with her own mom, seeing as they lived in seperate camps, but the girls (and Honeypaw) were all starting to show distaste with her giving them too much love. Apparently, kisses in front of elders was okay.

A tiny crackling had her ear flicking to the side. Weaselstar looked to Mossytooth- the only one looking where her back was facing- and the elder purred and blinked slowly. She brought her ear back up front to give the appearance of moving on.

"Gotcha!" cried Clockkit, firmly wrapping her tail in her claws. She bunny-kicked the ragged appendage. "Surrender, ThunderClan scum!"

"Okay, okay, OW," meowed Weaselstar, feeling every centimeter of sharp claws in her spinal cord. She bent down to collect the kit, setting her onto her haunches. "Why are you killing my tail?"

"I'm coming up with new battle moves!" she sniffed. "When I'm in charge, everyone will learn to go for the tail. It's a weak spot!"

She felt herself begin to purr. Huge ambition for such a little body. "You're going to be leader one day?"

"Duh! I'm gonna be such a good warrior you'll have to make me deputy." She stuck out her meager chest. "Then I'll be in charge!"

Weaselstar purred and ignored the age-old stab of anxiety. Dovefrost was getting up in moons; it wouldn't be long before she retired. And Weaselstar had absolutely no idea who to promote in her place. It's just one thing after another, isn't it?

"I look forward to seeing it," she promised.

Though the snow was light, it was falling, and that made Weaselstar's throat spasm as she kept pace by her daughter. The early Leaf-bare breeze cut through her brown pelt as they trekked around the abandoned Twolegplace. The upside of this time of year was just how sharp and bright the night sky looked; even Weaselstar could imagine their ancestors swimming in the sky on a night like tonight.

The problem with Leaf-bare is that it had a bad habit of affecting her throat. The cold sank its hungry teeth into her muscles and had them twinging and jerking. Weaselstar was thankfully able to avoid that problem the rest of the season with a few stretches; the working of her jaw helped warm everything up. Now it was so cold it was all she could do to grit her teeth. It felt a bit like hiccups, if hiccups happened in the front.

"You didn't have to come, you know," Spottedpaw meowed, sniffing at the twitching muscles. "Anyone could've escorted me here."

"And miss my baby girl's first visit to the Moonpool?" she scoffed. "You doubt my stubbornness."

They padded back into the trees at the edge of the Twolegplace. It was only a few hills now to the Moonpool. Weaselstar sucked in a deep breath and forced herself to walk a little faster.

"Mom," she said. "How many lives do you have?"

Weaselstar felt her paws fumble between themselves, stumbling. "What?"

Spottedpaw flinched but raised her chin. "I'm your medicine cat now. This is an important leader-medicine cat discussion- it's not like Dew knows."

"Dew is still your mentor," Weaselstar reminded her gently.

She flicked her ear dismissively. "When I became medicine cat, I knew I would mostly be teaching myself. Gramma is great at finding herbs and knowing about rare illnesses, but she's not great with StarClan and readings. How many do you have?"

She sighed, staring at her paws. She'd hate to lie to her daughter more than she already had. "I have eight lives. Beetooth stole one at our mini-Gathering at the lake."

Spottedpaw's eyes went wide. "He what? Why didn't grandpa stop him?"

Because he ordered it. Weaselstar raised her tail in greetings. "Look, we're here. And they were waiting for you."

The hill rose into the edge of the Moonpool above, and at the top of the hill was the outline of Copperdawn, their tail wagging gleefully in the breeze. Spottedpaw perked up and traded a quick nuzzle with Weaselstar before racing up the clearing to the gathered medicine cats. Squinting, Weaselstar could just barely make out Webflower brushing noses with her while Mintfern said something to the side. She watched them slowly slip out of sight.

The faint odor of sap tickled her tongue as Beethroat stepped out beside her. Weaselstar flinched as the calico turned and regarded her with a slight smile, surprised. "It's a lovely night to visit the ancestors."

"Why are you here?" Weaselstar asked, a bit suspicious. Beethroat had only appeared thus far when she had a reason.

"An offer." She swished her tail and suddenly two Shadows were sitting in front of her: Compromise and Consequence. "I've brought you ShadowClan's last medicine cats."

"You want me to free them," she surmised. Beethroat blinked at her expectantly. "Why should I?"

"Why not?" Beethroat replied. "Your daughter will need the strength of all her ancestors to be medicine cat."

Weaselstar took a second to study the duo. They really, truly didn't seem threatening. Compromise was short and squat, coming in at Weaselstar's chest, with a flat face that reminded her terribly of Dew. Consequence was just a bit taller; skinny, with ribs poking out from a bad diet. Still, though. She couldn't get the image of golden tabby fur covered in blood out of her head. "They helped you kill Brackenstar."

"Blame me for Brackenstar. Not them."

"I really don't think it's that simple," she meowed earnestly.

Beethroat tsked and gestured to each with her paw. "Consequence saw the end of ShadowClan coming. She tried to warn Brackenstar, but he refused to listen. Compromise supported Consequence and lost her entire family for it. They were, at their core, the best medicine cats I've ever met. It's not their fault they tried to survive." She waved her tail to the hill that concealed the medicine cats from view. "And I know they will give Spottedpaw their everything to make this Clan work."

Weaselstar hesitated only a moment longer. She wanted her daughter to have every chance in life- and, as difficult as their lives had been, Consequence and Compromise were still StarClan cats. They couldn't be too horrible, right? She reached out to touch noses with the short molly. Strips of shadows began to fall off as she moved on to Compromise.

In the night, Consequence's white pelt was shiny and bright as she shook herself. She bore a few dark spots on her paws and hips. Compromise, meanwhile, was a dark tabby with soft eyes. The two seemed to come back to themselves all at once, looking around as if unaware of how they'd gotten there. They caught sight of each other and embraced.

"I told you," Consequence rasped. "I knew we'd see each other again someday."

"Yeah," meowed Compromise. "I missed you too, mom."

Something painful stung her heart as Beethroat grinned, wide and unapologetic. "Weaselstar, meet Possumfall and Sleekmist."

The white molly- Possumfall- blinked at her reproachfully. "What took you so long? We have work to do yet."

"We're not in trouble still, are we?" Sleekmist asked. She looked far more sheepish than her mother.

"No trouble. A job." Beethroat gestured to the Moonpool. "ShadowClan's newest medicine cat needs spiritual guidance."

"Don't we all?" Possumfall sighed. She gave Sleekmist a gentle nudge. "Let's get moving, Sleek. We don't got all night."

"Oh! Right." Sleekmist dipped her head to them both. "T-Thank you."

"Mom?"

Weaselstar blinked and the spirits were gone. Spottedpaw was shifting from paw to paw in front of her, tail-tip quivering. She could just barely make out the other medicine cats dispersing above. "Oh. Wow. Is it morning already?"

"Did you fall asleep?" she asked dubiously. "Sitting up?"

She snorted and gently cuffed her ear. "I'm old, leave me alone."

"It was amazing," gushed Spottedpaw, doing a little skip to keep up as they trailed back across the hill. "There was an owl, and it-" She paused. "Am I allowed to tell you about it?"

Weaselstar hesitated. She really didn't know. She was aware that she wasn't allowed to talk about her leadership ceremony, but medicine cats were supposed to pass on signs and hints from StarClan. Did this count? "I'm... not sure, kiddo."

Spottedpaw fell silent as they crept past the Twolegplace. "Mom?" she meowed finally. "Am I going to RiverClan for the Leaf-bare?"

She swallowed some spit, hacking and coughing. "What?"

"Well, I was talking to Webflower, and she mentioned-"

"No! No. I was debating on sending Dew, not..."

She seemed put off by that information. "Dew isn't training to be a medicine cat. I am."

"I'm not sending my daughter to another Clan," Weaselstar meowed harshly, fur along her spine lifting. How could I possibly give my child away?

"But it's for the good of ShadowClan!" she argued. "I told you, mom. You need to see me as a medicine cat. Not your daughter."

Weaselstar stopped, gently putting a paw on her head. "You're both. You'll always be both."

Spottedpaw wiggled her head around so her eye was poking out. "But this is important! ShadowClan needs this." She leaned close and began to purr. "I know you're worried, but you have to have faith in me."

"I do," she meowed, feeling like a broken record. "Of course I do. I'll... think on it, okay?"

"That's all I ask," Spottedpaw said. "Think on it. And think about it like a leader, okay? Not as my mom."

"I will," she promised, sick at heart. She knew, logically, that there was only one choice. I have to give my girl to RiverClan. It's for the best of ShadowClan. But how can I say goodbye like that, even for such a short time?

How can I trust Briarstar to keep her safe?