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Chapter Text

General:

• Two moons have passed since the epilogue of Fire and Ice.
• Firestar's ability is common knowledge in ThunderClan and WindClan.

ThunderClan:

• ThunderClan's relationship with WindClan is far better than in canon. They're in a mutual, strong alliance with one another.
• ThunderClan did not capture Brokenstar.

Fireheart (Firestar):

• Spent a week recovering at WindClan, bonding deeper with primarily Tallstar, Onewhisker, Gorsekit, and Morningflower.
• Returned to ThunderClan after the week, visited Ravenpaw and Barley at the barn, and learned some medicine from Ravenpaw.
• Has learned to mostly ignore Ashkit and, by extension, Brindleface.
• Dotes on Bramblekit to Goldenflower's pleasant surprise and slight annoyance.
• Has the ability to summon, see, speak to, hear, and touch cat spirits. The longer he does so, the more exhausted he becomes. He cannot force the cat to do anything, and the spirit may return to the afterlife he/she belongs to if he/she wishes to. He cannot disable this ability; it is permanently active.
• A strong and genuine emotional attachment is necessary to summon and sustain the cat, ie, Redtail and Sandstorm, Brindleface and Tulipkit, Tallstar and Jake. This is separate from Firestar's ability to maintain it through his endurance. He cannot control if the cat is summoned, though he can instigate it. 
• The fewer senses (sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste) he uses with the spirit, the less draining it is.
• Has been learning to move with a blindfold to lessen the strain of the aforementioned ability. Still struggling, admires Jayfeather and Longtail far more because of it.
• Occasionally takes walks with Sandstorm. They're good friends, but not mates. He's thinking of telling her about the reincarnation/regression, but can't build the courage.
• Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw are both his apprentices. This was approved by Bluestar.

Graystripe:

• Socially unpopular within the Clan, outside of Firestar, Sandstorm, Willowpelt, Bluestar, and Whitestorm, due to Tigerclaw revealing his and Silverstream's relationship publicly.
• "Sneaking" away to meet with Silverstream. He and Silverstream are still mates.
• Feels guilty and responsible for Silverstream's being almost completely outcast from RiverClan.
• Mostly ignores Ashkit and Brindleface. Not popular with the queens in general due to his neglect of Silverstream.
• Pays great attention to Snowkit.

Sandstorm:

• Thinks of Dustpelt like a brother; the feeling is mutual.
• Was adopted by Redtail through StarClan's insistence.
• Has feelings for Firestar, wants to continue building their friendship and relationship foundation. Enjoys her and Firestar's walks greatly, and is loyal to him.
• Great friends with Graystripe since Silverstream's return to RiverClan.
• Tends to the queens and nursery because she's grown close to them.
• Annoyed by Cinderpaw's constant intervention in her and Firestar's time together.
• Has the minor role as ThunderClan's investigator, given by Bluestar.

Dustpelt:

• Thinks of Sandstorm like a sister; the feeling is mutual.
• Holds great respect and admiration for Redtail due to being his former apprentice.
• Still a part of Tigerclaw's "anti-Firestar" group. Thinking of setting aside his prejudice for Sandstorm's sake.
• No longer holds any ill feelings for Firestar personally.
• Suspicious of Tigerclaw and Darkstripe, believes they're being too sly for cats with nothing to hide.

Spottedleaf & Yellowfang:

• Extremely close friends and companions.
• They've been helping Firestar with his blindfold training, as well as researching his ability to the best of their capabilities. They're the ones who discovered how to lessen Firestar's strain during channeling.
• Close to Firestar.
• Teaching Firestar medicine cat necessities to improve his value as a warrior. This was Yellowfang's idea, Firestar went with it.
• Spottedleaf dislikes Whitestorm being deputy due to his being Thistleclaw's son.
• They share Dustpelt's suspicions of Tigerclaw and Darkstripe, aided by Firestar's disdain of Tigerclaw and Darkstripe.

Bluestar:

• Completely distrusts Firestar, no longer willing to believe in the Fire Alone prophecy or attempt to mend their relationship.
• Struggles to remember names, locations, and dates.
• Quicker to anger and/or frustration than normal. Apologizes if she remembers to.
• Starting to form doubts about her ability to lead ThunderClan.
• Trusts Whitestorm and Tigerclaw to keep her on track.
• She has two lives left (on her 8th).
• A rumor that she only has one life left has spread through ThunderClan.

Whitestorm:

• Bluestar's main support and somewhat caretaker, along with Tigerclaw.
• Curious about Firestar, but not prying out of respect for Sandstorm.
• He's Willowpelt's mate, helps her console Graystripe from time to time.
• Stressed from having to fulfil both deputy and leader duties.
• Still loves Bluestar like a second mother.
• Not present for Ashkit and Fernkit.
• Mentor to Brightpaw.

Brindleface & Ashkit:

• Despise Firestar and Graystripe, mostly ignore them when they can.
• Dislike Whitestorm for leaving them without a moment of hesitation. Ashkit especially hates Whitestorm.
• Adore Cloudkit, shyly so for Ashkit.
• Protective of Fernkit.
• Maintain a neutral-positive relationship with Sandstorm.
• Ashkit threw a several-week-long protest when Silverstream returned to RiverClan.

Cloudkit:

• Very close and fond of Firestar and Sandstorm.
• Close to Brindleface and Ashkit.
• Absolute menace to ThunderClan, zero impulse control, ever.
• Close to the elders.

Goldenflower:

• Has mended her relationship with Firestar due to his care for Bramblekit, confused that he doesn't give Tawnykit the same attention.
• Dotes on Bramblekit and Tawnykit.
• Completely over Tigerclaw.

Bramblekit:

• Greatly enjoys Firestar's company, sometimes annoyed that Firestar favors him so much.
• Looks up to Firestar.
• Great relationship with Tawnykit.

Tawnykit:

• Great relationship with Bramblekit.
• Sometimes jealous that Firestar gives Bramblekit so much attention.

Speckletail & Snowkit:

• Speckletail is extremely protective of Snowkit.
• She dislikes Firestar and Graystripe's spying on Snowkit.
• She's aware that Snowkit is impaired.
• Snowkit's enjoying himself.

Lionheart:

• Has full faith in Firestar's actions, believing he does what he does for a reason.
• Likes to tease his kits when they have to clean the elder's bedding.
• One of Bluestar's lesser supports, still reliable for the tasks he can do.

Frostfur:

• Shares Lionheart's faith in Firestar, though not as blindly. Grateful to Firestar regardless.
• The first to help Lionheart or others if they need it.
• Pities Cinderpaw, letting her learn the hard way.

Cinderpaw:

• Leg wasn't injured, still a warrior apprentice.
• Apprenticed to Firestar.
• Looks up to and is hard crushing on Firestar.
• Jealous of Sandstorm.
• Wishes ThunderClan territory were more open so she could run more.

Brackenpaw:

• Apprenticed to Firestar.
• Looks up to Firestar.
• Still a piece of cardboard (sorry, Brackenfur enjoyers)

Mousefur & Runningwind

• Mousefur is Thornpaw's mentor.
• The siblings often go on patrols together with Thornpaw.

Tigerclaw's Group:

Tigerclaw:

• Has been working to regain Bluestar's trust. Darkstripe fulfils his orders so he can avoid building suspicion.
• Has plans for the future.

Darkstripe:

• Listens to all of Tigerclaw's orders, doing his dirty work.
• Keeping Longtail away from Firestar's influence.

Longtail:

• Had his life saved by Firestar during the Battle for WindClan.
• Has been getting closer to Dustpelt.
• Curious where Tigerclaw wishes to lead him and Swiftpaw.

Swiftpaw:

• Follows and trusts Longtail with his entire being.
• Occasionally visits Bramblekit and Tawnykit in the nursery, as well as leads them around camp.

Dustpelt:

• See Above.

RiverClan:

• Except for Mistyfoot and Crookedstar, RiverClan is still angry with Silverstream.
• Their relationship with ShadowClan and WindClan is at rock bottom.
• ThunderClan only remains in contact because of Mistyfoot, Stonefur, and Graystripe and Silverstream's meetings.

Crookedstar:

• Has been trying his best to calm RiverClan down after Graystripe and Silverstream's relationship reveal.
• He hasn't succeeded.

Leopardfur:

• Especially furious about Silverstream's betrayal.
• Consoled Whiteclaw constantly.
• Confused about why she thinks about Tigerclaw strangely often.
• The one who issues Silverstream's punishments.

Silverstream:

• Feels great sadness and shame from her Clanmates.
• Still meets with Graystripe secretly.
• Only has Mistyfoot and Graystripe for support, Crookedstar can no longer protect her openly.
• Doesn't bother complaining about the punishments from Leopardfur.
• Could really use a squirrel right about now.

Mistyfoot:

• Silverstream's only reliable support in RiverClan.
• Recently gave birth.

Whiteclaw:

• Recently recovered from his rejection through Silverstream and Graystripe's relationship reveal.
• Has avoided Silverstream since.
• Confused about what to do now.

ShadowClan:

• Relationship with the other Clans is at rock bottom.
• Have begun eating from the Carrionplace and Thunderpaths more often.

Nightstar:

• Wary of Firestar knowing he only has one life.
• Stressed about Brokenstar potentially returning.

Cinderfur:

• Hasn't fully recovered from Firestar's attack.
• Thinking of retiring.

WindClan:

• Relationship with ThunderClan is far better than in canon. A strong, mutual alliance has been established.
• Relationship with ShadowClan and RiverClan is at rock bottom.

Tallstar:

• Closer to Firestar than in canon.
• Curious about Firestar's advice on Onewhisker.
• Still thinking about Firestar's warning about Tigerclaw and Gorsekit.
• Close to Ravenpaw.

Deadfoot:

• Extremely confused why Firestar wanted him to find a mate so eagerly.
• Otherwise, mutually respectful with Firestar.
• Unsure about Ravenpaw's visits.

Barkface:

• Grown close to Ravenpaw, is disappointed but understanding that Ravenpaw won't join WindClan.
• Has been teaching Ravenpaw like a medicine cat apprentice.
• Feels he has a debt to Ravenpaw and Barley for Ravenpaw's assistance.

Onewhisker:

• Closer to Firestar than in canon.
• A bit disappointed that Gorsekit looks up to Firestar instead of him.
• Confused about why Firestar advised him not to be so insecure.

Morningflower & Gorsekit:

• Morningflower grew to become close and appreciative of Firestar.
• Gorsekit looks up to Firestar and was sad that he had to leave.

Outside of the Clans:

Ravenpaw:

• Still happily living and mates with Barley in the barn.
• Occasionally visits WindClan to learn from and help Barkface.
• Sometimes brings back Barley a rabbit or a hare to share as a special meal between them, often on special nights together.

Barley:

• Still happily living and mates with Ravenpaw in the barn.
• Doesn't like Ravenpaw visiting WindClan, still supports Ravenpaw with it.
• Was told everything by Ravenpaw.

Princess:

• Firestar still visits her when he can. They talk when Firestar visits.
• She's been saddened that Oliver has recently gone away and not returned.

Smudge:

• Very often sits on the fence and watches the forest, missing Firestar.
• Hatty tries to cheer him up. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

Brokenstar & his rogues:

• Clawface was killed in ThunderClan.
• Brokenstar was half-blinded on his right side by Silverstream.
• Currently MIA.

Chapter Text

Between her legs ran a black, small-eared tom-kit, a creamy brown she-kit, a dark-gray tom-kit, and then the smallest among them, a second black tom-kit. Their laughter brought joy, crashing against the sorrow that she could only blame on herself. Perhaps it was the forming instincts that drove her, or perhaps the desperation to feel anything other than shame and despair.

Whenever she dragged her silver paw in one direction, they'd chase it like night does day. When she pulled it in the opposite direction, the same reaction with just as satisfied smiles on the tiny muzzles.

It even managed to pry a smile from her own lips. It would never last more than a few seconds, however. How she missed when they would.

"You're quite good with kits." Her ears could only fall at that remark. What was intended to be playful praise instead struck like a splinter through a paw. "Sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." She had to force the words out. It was anything but fine. As her view rose, her only companion in the recent moons was flashing her a sympathetic smile. "I appreciate you letting me play with your kits, Mistyfoot."

The RiverClan queen had gotten up and, with careful steps through her kits' roughhousing, pressed her head firmly against her kin's neck.

It had become a ritual for them. More than it should have been for any cat.

"I'm sorry." She hadn't come to despise them any less than she had when Graystripe bombarded her with them. Another day, another apology. "I wish I could help you more through this, but-"

"I know." She mewed, unable to bring forth any emotion, a blank page she replicated. She pushed into Mistyfoot's nuzzle regardless, the warmth of her cousin the only community given to her in the Clan. "It's fine."

Mistyfoot pulled her head away and scanned the area behind her. When no kits were present, she stepped back and sat down half a tail-length.

"It doesn't sound fine."

"I survived two moons." The tabby let loose with false bravado. Her tail curled around her legs, and her ears stayed flat. "I'll survive whatever comes my way."

She knew it was a lie, but she accepted fate. Her prayers to StarClan remained unanswered, no matter how many prayers she sent. It was only silent. A cold, dead silence as a response. Without fail. Perhaps it was what she deserved for breaking the code. Maybe she deserved worse for her persistence, though what punishment could be worse than losing everything?

StarClan would figure something out if such a thing were truly possible. They'd gift it to her of any cat, too.

"Silverstream!" Her eyes rose at the small-eared black tom-kit. He held worry as his siblings nibbled relentlessly at her toes. It wasn't the sort of worry that Mistyfoot or Graystripe provided, but it was as genuine and innocent as a kit could provide. "You slowed down."

"Oh... Sorry." Through the air her paw flew, along with the swarm of four kits behind it. The moment had passed, a chill taking the moment by the tail.

"You've been down." Silverstream raised her head, and Mistyfoot faltered at what must have been her blank eyes. "I won't say that I understand, but you've been so... different lately. Besides the obvious, is something wrong?"

The queen had watched as Silverstream's eyes settled on the pile of kits, then back to Mistyfoot. She couldn't help but raise a paw to her belly. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe she sought comfort from those who would love her unconditionally.

Mistyfoot's eyes became near-fully blackened spheres as the silent confession hit through the blue-gray she-cat's mind. With a step forward, Mistyfoot lowered herself to a whisper.

"You're not-" Mistyfoot gestured to Pikekit, Primrosekit, Reedkit, and Perchkit, then placed her paw back onto the ground. Silverstream broke eye contact, guilt consuming her body. "Silverstream, what were you thinking?"

"I think..." She gathered what little courage and energy remained in her being. With a sigh, the tabby spoke, quick and almost inelligible. "I think I want to go back to ThunderClan." Mistyfoot's muzzle opened immediately, but silver fur prohibited the ability to speak. "I just... I can't be here. Not right now."

Silverstream's paw ran slowly down Mistyfoot's face until it hit the ground with a grass-muffled thump.

"But the kits-"

"Your kits will be happy with any other cat. They only care about me because I play with them." Mistyfoot remained quiet, and Silverstream's vision began to blur. "It's only a matter of time before they learn to hate me, too..."

"I'd never let them learn that sort of thing."

"You can't stop it." Her voice raised, speaking as if it were the most obvious thing in RiverClan. "Even my father's given up covering for me. If the leader of a Clan, my own father, hates me, what's the point in staying here? To live a life hated by those who used to love me? To have my kits grow up hated because of me?"

"They won't-"

"Mistyfoot, be serious." She swung her paw as if to present the camp in its entirety. Cats came and gone, yet not one failed to throw her a glare of hostility. "This isn't a place where I want my kits raised. This isn't even somewhere that I want to be anymore. How am I supposed to feel comfortable bringing kits into RiverClan when it's nothing but hate?"

"I want my kits to be judged on who they are as cats, not because they're half ThunderClan." The image of ThunderClan's leader flashed over Mistyfoot. Silverstream jerked her gaze away from her kin, feeling the trail of a tear falling down her face. "You'd never understand that. You were raised as RiverClan from the start."

"Do you..." Her ears flicked at the gulp that sourced from the she-cat in front of her. "Do you really want to leave?"

"Not forever!" The kits stopped their antics, five sets of eyes falling onto Silverstream. The grass below was being pelted by salty liquid as the silver she-cat stood up. "But at least in ThunderClan, I know there are cats who won't hate me for my decisions. I'd have more than just you."

"I'd have Graystripe, I'd have Fireheart, Yellowfang, Spottedleaf, ThunderClan's queens and kits!" She hit the nursery ground with a hard thump, loose blades of grass puffing out at the collision. Any chance of sight disappeared through the unending fogginess. "RiverClan is my home, and it always will be, but it feels like a prison right now."

With half-lidded eyes and a breath strong enough to bend the grass in front of her muzzle, she burned through the little reserves of emotions that remained. The noises of the kits beginning to play again brought her ears up, but even that action felt like pulling heavy stones through water.

"Are you sure?"

The question stung, but she had given it thought.

"No, I'm not, but I can't have my kits raised in so much hate. What mother would leave their kits in that sort of environment?"

Mistyfoot swallowed again, and Silverstream could hear the clacking of teeth as her kin's muzzle closed with great energy.

She couldn't bring herself to move as Mistyfoot snuggled against her. In fact, she leaned into it. The warmth was a welcome change. Despite how many times she relied on it, periodically needing several times a day, it worked like magic most of the time.

"If... If you ever make up your mind," Mistyfoot gazed towards her kits, a small smile creeping onto her face as both she-cats watched them play without a care for anything else. Their heads came together with a gentle knocking sound, and the queen purred against her cousin. "I'll help you sneak out of RiverClan."

Her lips wouldn't open, and she rolled her head on its side.

The silence was deafening, but the support was as loud as a monster.

Chapter Text

Side by side, with his tail draped over the base of hers, the primary noise between them was the comfortable newleaf breeze and their paws crunching the grass below. Her purrs were quiet and soft, yet no less genuine. His own, accompanied by a toothy smile, drew more from her chest.

That was until he became oddly distant.

It wasn't as if the orange tabby had stopped being so him, or that he split off from her. No, he kept himself in nuzzle range and emotionally available, but the adoration and enjoyment in his face had shifted. Something uneasy, something contemplative.

It made her curious. Their walks had started friendly -- purely platonic, as they had agreed on. Time went on, two moons since his return from WindClan, to be more accurate. During that, she couldn't help but find herself pulled in by the mouse-brained tom's charisma and positivity. He hadn't sulked over "the future" since the Battle for WindClan. That, or he'd become much better at hiding and/or dealing with it.

Either way, she had started to look more and more toward their walks. They were nothing major, and most of the time they didn't talk with one another, not even a word. Perhaps their bond had evolved not to need words with one another. Part of her hoped it to be true. The other was concerned about his distance. For both his mental sanity and her aching chest at the mere idea that they would discontinue these walks together.

"Fireheart." She attempted to add a bit of coquettishness, but she had, without a doubt, become rusty through their lack of flirtation in the past moons. Fortunately, his ears fell back, and his tail tip darted at the calling of his name regardless. "You've been less physically affectionate than normal."

Despite the hikes being friendly and nothing more, they still shared contact. They were both cats, after all. Besides, she never minded. Some days--many days--she looked forward to it.

"Hm?" Pulled from his thoughts, though still flushed from her not-quite lecherous attention grabber. His face contorted into the contemplation she'd noticed prior. A hint of sadness supported the moments of thought without fail, and his ears flattened with as much certainty. "Oh. I'm just... thinking about a few things."

She must have given him a stern glare out of habit, perhaps a bit of instinct as well, because his emerald green eyes widened, and vigor returned to the warrior tom.

"Not like that." He meowed, joining their bodies together into one large cat. Their steps and movements were in sync, aside from the soft cuddles he placed on her neck. "I feel great, and I have a tree that I scratch whenever I get overwhelmed." He pulled back, tilted his head, and focused his gaze on her, eyes shining with sincerity. "I promise that I'm fine."

She spoke, not quite playful, yet not quite a warning. "Bet your tail on it?"

"Is that because you'd rip it off if you found out I was lying?" The edges of her lips curled, and a shared, reserved laughter rang through the small space as the entrance of ThunderClan camp came into view. An unspoken agreement to take slower steps occurred. "I'd bet my tail on it. Without a doubt."

"I'll hold you to it."

"Oh, I know."

Into nuzzling the two went.

Maybe it was too much for a set of friends to do, but hearing him purr made her happy. The fact that it was because of her greatly heightened the joy her brain fed her.

She sped up enough to stop him in his tracks, only to curl around his chest, feeling the strong vibrations and mixing them with hers. How they both melted when she dragged her cheek over his chest, around his back, and pressed to his own cheek. Their tails often intertwined, as they were doing now, and when his tongue ran behind her ear, the pace of her heart was exhilarating.

His heart beat remained the same, with only a minor increase in its tempo. She never understood how, when hers felt like it might pop if the tabby so much as moved towards her neck. It was as if he'd done this song and dance with her innumerable times before.

"Whether you meant to or not," He began, putting more of his body weight onto her, to which she reciprocated by creating a balanced equilibrium. "That did cheer me up. Not that I needed it."

Another choir of purrs, far more song-like than their rare, but ever-so-welcome, moments of intimacy. The leaves joined in for a beautiful chorus of cats and nature. It was difficult to keep her attention on anything that wasn't green.

Whether that be the foliage surrounding them or the orange tom's eyes.

"Have you found anything on Clawface's murder?" The drastic change in topic had yanked her, unceremoniously, from her dream-like state. "I'm imagining that you find Tigerclaw suspicious?"

She cleared her throat and turned her gaze to the ground to clear out the orange floating in her thoughts.

"I'd be stupid not to consider Tigerclaw as a prime suspect." Their eyes met, and her brain shifted into what the queens and medicine cats referred to as 'detective mode,' ridding any platonic, or otherwise, thoughts. "I mean, seriously. A cat who is half-blind gets away from two cats, one of which is known as a renowned warrior, after murdering a prisoner inside ThunderClan?"

"None of it makes sense." She chuffed. "Maybe I'm thinking too much about the topic, but everything points to Tigerclaw having done something. Don't know what, exactly, but Dustpelt wouldn't have let Brokenstar escape if he could help it." A hum bounced in her throat, and her paws rapidly struck the grass they sat on. "Especially since Dustpelt decided to separate from Tigerclaw."

"That explains it." The tabby chuckled, and she turned her attention to him once more. He smiled playfully. "He did seem slightly more tolerable towards me."

"He's never hated you." The raised brow of silent judgement was passed onto her. She sighed, her ears falling. "Okay, he doesn't hate you anymore." She stood and began the walk back into camp. Her companion joined seconds after, and they shared suspicions. "I'm planning on telling Bluestar about Tigerclaw's likely involvement."

"Oh. I wouldn't recommend that." She angled her head in both curiosity and aggravation, a tail flick accompanying. His ear flicked, and he weaved a wince into his words. "Bluestar is going to- She's not going to last. Mentally. If you want to try and tell her, I won't and can't stop you. Just don't be surprised when she refuses to acknowledge anything you say."

"She's the leader of ThunderClan. It won't be that bad."

"Again, I'm not telling you what you can and can't do." His ears rose and fell erratically, and she knew that the tom was deep in thought. When he came back to the real world, his words were hardy and like a well-informed cat. "But Whitestorm is overwhelmed with his duties as is, much less mixing Bluestar's duties in there, and the fact that he's already become a sort of caretaker for Bluestar, and being a mentor for Brightpaw."

"Just saying," Firestar shrugged. The slight sarcasm in his tone would have annoyed her normally, but here, it served as a warning. "Don't look to the higher-ups of the Clan for too much help. Maybe the medicine cats, but Bluestar and Whitestorm are mostly out of it for the time being." A solemn and longing stare grew as he spoke more of Bluestar. "It's only going to get worse, too."

"I thought it was strange that you think so fondly of Bluestar despite her hating you." He'd visibly deflated as his tail began to drag against the tips of the blades of grass. Her chest tightened. "Not to remind you of that or anything, but you sound... mournful? When you speak of Bluestar."

"It's just the consequences of my actions. Yes, I'd love to have a positive relationship with Bluestar," His joy and enthusiasm sank, and it looked as if he couldn't push back against the melancholic set of sentiments. "But what's done is done. No reason to try and mend a wound that gaping."

Her ears fell, and she leaned against him with a purr of comfort.

"You always try to mend things with me."

"You're special." His face hadn't become happier despite his more joyous way of speaking. It only lasted a few seconds, then came back to sadness. "...That's why it's so hard."

He had gotten better at remaining stable in his happiness and trust in her. She understood he was far from perfect, but the way she could see him struggling was better than being shut down immediately, as he used to do.

Firestar stood back up and stretched, curling his back and poking his tail high. With a rigorous shake of the head, the somber expression faded into a much more pleasant smile and body language. Ears pointing to the sky, tail remaining tall, a hearty gait as he stepped closer towards camp.

"No reason to burden you with those thoughts."

She chased after him, a muzzle-length between them when their paws touched the campgrounds again.

The sounds of pawsteps were a hymn to both warriors. Cats moving from place to place, keeping ThunderClan alive and functioning. Not a single thing out of place, unless Sandstorm were to consider the harsh glares from a gray apprentice as displaced. She wouldn't argue against an apprentice's feelings, however much it annoyed her at times.

The serenity would shatter quickly, a blur of white and dark brown racing circles around the orange tabby. What had held peaceful chatter only seconds prior now held the excited squeaks of kits over the tom to her left.

"Fireheart!" Cloudkit exclaimed, clambering onto his hind legs to stretch as tall as he could manage against his uncle. Sandstorm couldn't help but smile at Firestar's genuine bliss at the two kits' company. "It's time to play! You said you would when you got back!"

"Hm." The orange tom tilted his head playfully, tail wriggling behind him as if it were a snake. "Did I say that?"

"You did!" Bramblekit mirrored Cloudkit, taking the other side of Firestar. His little claws pricked at the flame-colored pelt, though not enough to disturb the larger tabby. "Come oooon!"

Sandstorm laughed at Bramblekit's long, song-like plea. She couldn't help but laugh harder when her companion moved his head like a pendulum.

"I don't know. I'm pretty tired after that walk."

"Liar!" Though a kit, the small tabby held his father's tongue for sharp, quick retorts. "I could walk the entirety of ThunderClan territory and still have energy left!"

"I could do twice ThunderClan's territory!"

Bramblekit locked eyes with Cloudkit, both kits clearly vying for Firestar's attention. She enjoyed the show, taking a step back as Firestar raised his paws. The warrior held a mischievous smirk that neither kit had bothered trying to notice, too caught in the small rivalry.

Within a moment, before either kit could react, they were on their backs, an orange paw was on each of their bellies, kneading vigorously yet softly. Small fangs dug into Firestar's ankles, supported by paws. Both kits kept a fierce grip on the grown tom despite the light shaking being performed. Small dust clouds formed as the kits were softly dragged across the ground, quiet yet fierce growls from the balls of fluff.

Firestar moved at a fair speed, tracing a circle with the kits in tow. Despite looking rough from an outside perspective, which even the pale she-cat had thought, the fits of laughter were undeniable. Rather, the kits would growl before Firestar would pause, and the kits would laugh in the innocent way all kits should. After, they'd bite his ankles again, and off the orange tom would go. It only stopped when Firestar had begun to show signs of fatigue, unbeknownst and unimportant to the kits under his paws.

Sandstorm noticed the particles gathering in the kits' fur. Bramblekit didn't change much, but Cloudkit had sported a new light brown color across his snow-white coat. The only way the older kit could look worse was if he had thrown himself into the mud. She had no doubt Cloudkit would do so, given the opportunity.

When Firestar had released them, the kits were huffing, but, befitting of kits, their energy seemed to refill in mere seconds. The orange cat sighed, but the brightness in his smile and rumbling in his chest spoke of something other than annoyance. It brought her mood to a fever pitch just seeing his joy around his kin and Bramblekit.

"Again!" Bramblekit had started bouncing with unbridled spirit, which Cloudkit mimicked seconds after the other kit. "Do it again!"

"I'm not sure Brindleface and Goldenflower would appreciate the extra grooming you two would need." Below his merry words held a hint of fear at the idea of the queens' motherly wrath. His eyes drifted more towards Cloudkit than Bramblekit. "Especially you. Brindleface and I aren't on good terms as is..."

"You've gotten on better terms with her." Sandstorm meowed, and Firestar's ear fell to the side. "Comparatively speaking." She added.

"The standard may as well have been in the dirtplace." He rolled his eyes, focusing back onto the kits who exploded with more energy than before. His weariness melted when Cloudkit and Bramblekit weaved through his legs. "And I think I have a long day of kits ahead of me."

"You enjoy that. I'm going to talk to Dustpelt and try to figure out more about the Clawface situation."

With the statement of wishing luck on Sandstorm done, Cloudkit and Bramblekit were finished waiting. With a yowl as the bites became less playful, more demanding, Firestar padded away to another part of camp.

She watched on as the kits moved between his legs, and he nearly tripped numerous times. Cloudkit had been pushed into the ground several times by his kin. Accidentally, of course, but the kit simply stood back up and continued his trek like nothing happened. If anything, it hyped him up further.

The final words she heard of him were a polite request not to bite so earnestly, of which the kits had promised nothing in response.

She snickered, a part of her glad that, although Cloudkit and Bramblekit were fond of her, they were far more partial to the fiery-pelted tabby. Some days, more than Brindleface and Goldenflower. The queens didn't seem to mind in most situations, not that she could blame them. Just looking at Firestar tending to them tired her out.

She shook her head.

Enough thinking of the orange cat and kits, she had somewhere to be with a certain brown tom. The truth wouldn't wait just because she was a little too caught up in thoughts, nor would Tigerclaw if he truly were part of the problem.

To the warriors' den she went.

Dustpelt had been spending a fair amount of time alone, though the tom seemed relatively unbothered. At least, Sandstorm hadn't noticed too much of a difference in his behavior. He was still the loyal, albeit solitary, cat that she had grown up beside.

And Dustpelt had taken it upon himself to do the arduous task of den building before others could, although no dens needed rebuilding currently, so he did normal warrior duties. She had to admit that it had been a while since they spoke to one another properly, not including minor remarks and greetings. Well over a week or two, if her memory served her correctly.

"No reason to be alone." Dustpelt's lip curled, and he angled his head to give her a half-opened stare. "I'm sure there's a cat who'd like to have your company somewhere."

Even though he looked deep in slumber, Sandstorm knew that he was simply taking in the crisp air that flowed before greenleaf began, and all cats were swamped with scorching heat.

"Sorry, Sandstorm." He stood and raised a paw to his chest dramatically, as if the tom were a kit again, performing an act of rival Clans in battle. His eyes opened fully, and his grin widened. "Not all of us have a cat so eager to become our mate at the tap of a claw, unfortunately."

When the curtains closed, Dustpelt took a more casual sitting position, allowing his tail to freely wave behind him.

"So, I assume you aren't here just to talk? Not that I'd mind a friendly conversation."

"Tigerclaw." She could watch Dustpelt's eagerness fade with every second that was left empty second that came after the name left her throat. The clean, cool breeze was tainted by the mere mention of the large tabby. "I know you aren't truly on his side anymore, but I'm getting back on the case of Clawface's murder."

"Didn't you give up-"

"I didn't give up." Sandstorm corrected mid-sentence. "Bluestar forgot that she gave this role and ordered me on regular warrior duties, and then things took up my time."

"Would this thing happen to have bright orange fur and an interest in pale she-cats?"

Dustpelt snickered at Sandstorm's growl, knowing it was full of nothing but hot air. The tabby tom then bared a more serious expression.

"I don't know much," He admitted. "And probably not what you want to know," He lowered himself into his nest, chest fur entangling with the moss and what few feathers were fluffing out the bedding. He morphed into a state of contentment, despite the subject matter. "But ask away. I'll give you what I can."

Sandstorm lay down in front of Dustpelt, speaking in a serious tone, mixing duty with her own curiosity.

"What do you know about the night Clawface was killed? Where were you, where was Tigerclaw, where were Brokenstar and Clawface? All of that."

"I was in the apprentice den." He said it in a tone that referred to something obvious, then turned his voice low and smooth. "Tigerclaw, Clawface, and Brokenstar were all at the fallen trunk where the prison is. I don't know specifically where Brokenstar and Clawface were, but when I had rushed to help, Tigerclaw was standing over Clawface's body, and Brokenstar was already trying to escape."

"How'd they get away?"

Dustpelt's ears fell, and he peered away for a moment. When he turned back, the embarrassment was apparent in his paws kneading the nest and slight shame that coated the amber of his eyes.

"I tried to attack Brokenstar, but he landed a solid blow against my chest and knocked the breath out of me." His ears perked and his eyes widened, almost in defence of his inability to protect ThunderClan. "I tried to chase him," It came out desperate, ashamed, then launched into disappointment. "But running with no breath didn't lead me very far. Honestly, I don't know much in the minutes that followed since I was too dazed to see or hear."

"What was Tigerclaw doing while you were trying to attack Brokenstar?"

"Don't know." The answer came as a simple reply, matter-of-factly, in the way they traveled across his tongue and into her ears. "I do remember that Brokenstar was clean. Too clean for a cat who supposedly killed another cat seconds before I showed up. Tigerclaw, too."

His ear flicked as his mind filled his head with more information, as if every passing moment was another that he remembered something else.

"It was weird." Sandstorm tilted her head at his assessment. Dustpelt looked to the ceiling of the den. "Thinking more on it, and picturing the scene, there wasn't much blood at all, if any." He lowered himself and met the she-cat's eyes, his own shining with a growing interest. "You'd think that a murder scene would have signs of blood, a fight, some sort of struggle, a wound, something.
"

"But... no. Nothing but Clawface's corpse." He adjusted in place, leaning over until he fell onto his right side. He flattened against the nest, prodding the moss with his claws. "A body with no signs of death? It's almost creepy. Makes my fur want to spike just remembering it."

She recalled a few times that her orange idiot had zoned out, muttering the names of herbs on their walks. She couldn't recognize them consistently beyond one or two types of leaves and the basics, but Firestar had made it somewhat of a habit to name what he could when he saw them. It reminded her that wounds weren't the only way to end a life.

"What about poisons like deathberries?" Dustpelt shrugged, offering some sympathy at his lack of herbal knowledge. "You didn't smell anything odd?"

"It's been two moons. Whatever I did or didn't scent back then is long gone from my memory."

Sandstorm dug her claws into the bedding, putting so much pressure on the dry vegetation that she could feel the soil begin to gather under her paws. Dustpelt reached out and tapped his paw pad against the she-cat's forehead.

"You're getting upset over this?" The same leg gestured to the rest of the den, though empty aside from Graystripe sleeping alone in the corner. "You really are taking after Fireheart."

"Don't even suggest that." The groan that came after was deep and guttural, an audible expression of her frustrations. It had started to come back to her on why she hadn't bothered picking the investigation back up. "I'm worried about ThunderClan. Brokenstar is one thing, but the fact that Tigerclaw hadn't noticed Brokenstar getting into ThunderClan?"

"No, I agree with you." He mewed, licking the back of his paw and rubbing it behind his ear. The ruffled fur from rolling across the ground smoothed during the grooming. "I'm afraid I can't tell you much more, though."

Her ears evened, then rose. "Why not?"

"Tigerclaw only speaks to Darkstripe about his important matters. Not even Longtail hears a word of them." He closed his eyes, sinking further into his nest. A single eye slowly opened. "He's certainly not going to tell me anything." Then it closed, and his maw opened in a wide yawn, poking his legs out, stretching his toes apart, before his limbs smacked back on the flooring. "Especially since I've all but explicitly 'chosen' Fireheart's 'side' now."

"That's true..." Dejection took more of her heart than she intended. Replacing the unpleasant sensation with the building feeling of delight. "I think you made the right choice, if it matters."

"I appreciate the support." His tail rose then crashed back to the nest. A light purr carried in the wind, sourced from his core. "But you were always going to choose Fireheart." He allowed the words to be light, though confident, then changed to a far more teasing way of speech. "A lot simpler a choice when you're in love with one of the sides."

"Not in love." She meowed back before one of their whiskers could twitch. She leaned closer, enough that her breath could ever-so-gently graze his nose. "You could leave the warriors' den. That might help with not having a mate."

"Yeah, right." The sarcasm could be heard by even a deaf cat. He opened his eyes, pointing his nose towards her, though he looked silly with most of his belly angled at the sky and his positioning having him look like he sported an underbite. "We know all the cats in ThunderClan. If my mate is here, I think one of us would know."

"Maybe your mate isn't in ThunderClan."

"And end up like Graystripe?" The tip of his tail pointed to the slumbering striped tom. "I think I'll stick to my Clan. Maybe I'll find a kittypet like you did."

"Former kittypet." There was no aggression or true annoyance in the correction. Dustpelt snickered at Sandstorm's insistence. "Don't be jealous."

"Why would I be jealous?" He rolled over hard enough to launch feathers and strands of short moss. "You have your type, which is mouse-brained, fire-colored tabbies, and I have mine."

Sandstorm leaned forward, growing her a matching smirk. "Going to bother sharing?"

Dustpelt hummed playfully, which gradually turned into a serious growl. The brown tabby sat back up, raising a paw to his chin. His tail moved serpentine, and his ears erect with increasing flicks the deeper he moved into thought.

"I think..." Dustpelt's paw returned to the ground, and his confidence, albeit not unwavering, was present in spades. "I think I'd like them to be loving and caring." Sandstorm shot him a glare of disappointment. "What? I'm not saying that's the only thing I'd want from them -- I'd still want them to be brave and warrior-like."

"No kits?"

"Has Fireheart really gotten you that smitten?" Her ears warmed at being read like an omen. "I might need to step on some thistles to wake up."

Dustpelt raised and placed his paw in the same location, jerking it away in a cheap imitation of the act. He opened his muzzle, revealing his fangs as he stared at Sandstorm with a falsified awe.

"The sassiest cat in camp with kits on the mind. Never thought I'd see the day."

"You didn't answer the question."

Dustpelt's grin grew wider.

"And you didn't deny it." Her ears began to burn with the warmth of Sunningrocks, and she forced out a huff through her nose. Dustpelt raised his paws as if to defend himself. When sure that he wasn't about to have claws stuck in his flesh, he continued. "For kits... I'd like a few kits, I think. Two, three? Probably not too many."

His forepaws slid forward, creating mounds of moss atop his paws, and he lay on his belly.

"How many kits have you thought about having?" He didn't wait for an answer, muzzle opening for more words to fill the space. "Rather, how many has Fireheart thought about?"

"Tch." The apex of her tail wriggled, and she already knew there was no escaping. Dustpelt had her locked down so thoroughly, there was no refuge from this conversation. "Fireheart talks about having two. I think that's a fine amount..."

"How sweet that both of you agree."

The growl from her chest was an empty threat, or perhaps a light promise, but Dustpelt shuffled back regardless. Sandstorm flattened the bedding that he left, patting down the small mounds into how they were intended to be.

"We're off topic." Dustpelt shrugged, not attempting to deny it. Her tail lashed at his ability to rile her up. "I need more information. It's been too long since I thought about this situation."

"You could try speaking to Longtail, though, as I said, I severely doubt he'll have more information than I do." The tabby licked the edges of his paw, digging out the moss between his toes and spitting it towards an empty location. "I assume Yellowfang or Spottedleaf would know something; they don't trust Tigerclaw or Darkstripe either because of Fireheart. They would have been taking care of Clawface. Probably."

"Better than nothing." Her breath clashed against her teeth, creating a sharp sizzle as her hind legs pushed her to all four paws. She took a sharp 90-degree turn, taking a moment to direct her gaze at Dustpelt. "Get out of the warriors' den, and your love life might improve."

"I'll leave the warriors' den if you get out of Fireheart's fur."

Nothing she could say back to that.

With a shared chuckle between them, she finished the turn and continued, being struck by a stray beam of sunlight that lit her pelt up in an array of beige. The she-cat purred at the warmth but kept moving in spite of her brain urging her to take a rest in the solar-bathed spot.

Her nose was struck viciously by the scent of herbs at the single pawstep inside the cave.

The more mangy of the medicine cats had a neat pile of herbs in front of her. Yellowfang took great care as her paw pressed on one to slide it apart from the others, repeating the action until there were seven different medicines in front of her. Yellowfang hummed with pride at the small action, turning around.

As green and orange clashed, matted gray fur fluffed and shot straight off Yellowfang's body. The old she-cat huffed, jerking away at the quiet cat, and then hunched over.

"What is it with you and Fireheart being so silent when walking in?" A few deep breaths had calmed the medicine specialist. Yellowfang's gaze settled on the pale cat. "Keep doing that, and one of you will send me to StarClan before my time."

"Sorry, Yellowfang." Yellowfang nonchalantly waved a paw, the fur along her back slowly settling back into place. "What is all of that for?"

"Fireheart's practicing many things at once, so he came up with the idea of combining blind training and medicine training." Yellowfang shined with a hint of pride, the edge of the mangy cat's lips bending upward, voice low and appreciative. "A smart idea, considering who suggested it." Yellowfang then cleared her throat and sat as tall as she could manage. "Now, what are you here for?"

"Looking for help."

"What sort of help, exactly?" Yellowfang's brow rose, and Sandstorm watched as the yellow tracked her own eyes and slowly moved to her belly, then returned to meet stares again. "We have plenty of kits as is-"

"I'm not having kits." Sandstorm half-growled back, softening afterward and unable to match Yellowfang's stare. "Not right now."

"That's probably for the better." The old cat's admittance convinced Sandstorm to lock eyes once more. Yellowfang held a knowing smile, and it made Sandstorm's spine shiver. "As much as I would love to see how you and Fireheart's kits would act, Cloudkit and Bramblekit have caused enough trouble for nearly every cat in camp."

The pale she-cat's ears jerked up. "I did hear that Cloudkit snuck out of camp."

"That's only half of the story."

The warrior was intrigued. Not the information she came for, but any information could come into play at any time. As much as she wanted to stop Yellowfang from going on, Tigerclaw and Darkstripe disliked Cloudkit for the same reason as Firestar, and there was no guarantee they'd leave the fluffy kit alone.

"You talk to the queens often, so I'm a bit surprised to know you haven't heard of the story." Yellowfang slightly leaned to the left, then right, groaning as she stretched her aged body. Her toes spread, baring her claws, and softly pressing on the mossy bedding. "Cloudkit took Bramblekit outside of the camp to 'hunt.'"

"Outside of camp, as in past the entrance?"

"No, I mean in ShadowClan- Yes, past the entrance!" Sandstorm's tail lashed once at the sarcasm, but she couldn't be too upset. She did walk into it. Yellowfang looked impressed, though worried under the jaggedness the she-cat typically displayed. "As stupid as it was, Cloudkit did catch a shrew, despite looking like an unmelted snowball."

"How Cloudkit ever convinced Bramblekit to follow him, I don't suppose I'll know." A purr and growl mix caused Yellowfang to rumble, which grew into a small chuckle. The laughter then silenced itself, and the medicine cat carried caution and concern. "Brave like his father, and just as eager for the attention."

The opportunity to get back on track, which Sandstorm couldn't waste.

"Speaking of Tigerclaw," Yellowfang eyes lay still on Sandstorm's figure. "I'm back on investigating Clawface's murder, and I wanted to ask if you know anything about Tigerclaw, Clawface, or even Darkstripe during the night the murder took place."

Yellowfang lightly shook her head, ears falling, but far from being flat. "Afraid not. I was long asleep by the time that event had occurred."

Sandstorm took a sharp breath in to prevent frustration from building. Yellowfang had taken notice, cracking a slight smile.

"Try Spottedleaf. That was her day to check on Clawface." The pale cat's ears shot up, and her heart beat with joy at not reaching a wall. "She'll be in the nursery. With Speckletail being the oldest queen, we're cautious about Snowkit's health." The gray cat rolled her eyes, threading a grumble into her elderly words. "Too many kits at once, if you ask me..."

A strange thing for Yellowfang to suddenly add, but Sandstorm assumed that having to look after so many queens and kits at once would be draining for any cat. More so for one as long-lived as Yellowfang, already busy with training the orange tabby. Part of the light-colored cat wondered if the upcoming greenleaf had the medicine cats preparing for the large amount of herbs that would bloom and wither under the conditions of the hottest season.

"I'll head to the nursery." Sandstorm lowered her head for a moment. "Thank you."

Yellowfang's paw slid under the other she-cat's jaw and pulled her head upward. The uncomfortable gaze of the medicine cat struck Sandstorm.

"No formal talking; I'm old already." Yellowfang turned with a stumble, which she caught herself quickly. "I don't need young warriors making me feel like I'm going to turn into dust by next sunrise."

"Okay." The excessive amounts of casualness had Yellowfang glaring at Sandstorm. The she-cats both smiled at the moment. "I'll leave you be."

Before she could leave the crack in the stone wall, Yellowfang had called out.

"And when you see Fireheart again, tell him to get in here and stop slacking on blind training. I'd tell him myself, but he listens to you more than other cats."

Sandstorm agreed to the request and moved at a brisk pace. The wind remained pleasant, if not warmer than earlier. Not enough to be overwhelming, but as a warning of the changing seasons.

Maybe a warning of changes greater than the seasonal variety. If only her gut could place any degree of specificity on those potential changes.

She could resolve those problems later. For now, Spottedleaf was her priority.

As she approached the bramble bush that protected and formed the nursery, it was strangely quiet. A few voices of those she knew to be Brindleface, Speckletail, and Spottedleaf, but the lack of rambunctious kits was a shock.

Ashkit was, putting it simply, attached to Brindleface's side like fur after a rainy day, rarely moving from his mother's side if possible and keeping to himself when able.

Fernkit was far more playful, though the she-kit was, what Sandstorm considered, the kindest kit in the nursery. She was the first to intervene if Cloudkit and Bramblekit got too into their competitions for Firestar's attention, and she was plenty able to grab a queen's attention if the scrapping became too much.

Cloudkit was his own brand of chaos, of which the little furball seemed intent on dragging Bramblekit into his messes. A moment with Fireheart drew them in faster than any other promise, though Cloudkit had been rebellious recently, willing to sneak out to his kin whenever it crossed his little head. Sandstorm didn't pity Brindleface one bit, and the pale she-cat imagined that it drove the queen up a tree that Cloudkit listened to Fireheart more often than her. A little funny at the same time, but what a struggle Cloudkit must be.

Tawnykit tussled with Bramblekit whenever her brother wasn't in another heap of trouble from Cloudkit's antics, though she played with other kits as well. She was certainly more patient than her brother and willing to at least think over whether something was stupid. As cautious as the moon-old tortoiseshell was, she was a kit still, and what kit wouldn't cause trouble if they thought it entertaining?

Snowkit was energetic, as most kits were, though the white kit seemed more passive than Cloudkit or Bramblekit. His sister had contracted whitecough and pushed through, though her strength hadn't been enough to survive longer. Speckletail grieved, but it seemed the support of the queens and Sandstorm helped to lessen the strain, though Snowkit remained no further than a few tail-lengths from Speckletail due to the eldest queen's worries.

Sandstorm sighed, the bedding of the nursery under her paws replacing the tough soil of the camp.

All this thinking about kits, and Yellowfang's earlier words, had her wondering about what her and Fireheart's kits would be like. Probably nothing nice, calm, or simple if the sand-colored cat knew anything about herself and the orange tabby's personalities and traits. They couldn't possibly be as mischievous as Cloudkit.

Hopefully.

Regardless, kits were difficult to raise, even with other queens' support. The idea pulled her mind when it shouldn't, a constant reminder of what could be whenever that fool of a tom flashed a fang-ridden grin at her.

Her heart pounded at the thought every time. Another thought plagued her, or perhaps it was a blessing in this context.

How would he treat their kits if he treated Cloudkit and Bramblekit so well?

"Sandstorm." Said cat raised her eyes from the nesting at Brindleface's voice.

Brindleface, Ashkit, Fernkit, and Tawnykit were all focused on the new arrival, while Goldenflower looked entirely at peace at the nursery's depths, a deep sleep encumbering the tabby queen.

Snowkit was batting a feather through the air in self-entertainment, completely oblivious to Sandstorm's appearance. The white kit had given no heed to Spottedleaf calling his name, the tortoiseshell eventually lightly tapping Snowkit on the head to garner his attention.

"He's a very focused kit." Speckletail jumped in to shelter her kit from Spottedleaf's silent yet calculating eyes. The tip of the queen's tail pointed toward the medicine cat, and Sandstorm watched as Snowkit's head followed his mother's tail to lock eyes with the small she-cat. "Sorry about that, Spottedleaf."

Spottedleaf waved it off, though the tortoiseshell's eyes narrowed, as did Sandstorm's.

"Oh- Sandstorm," Sandstorm remembered that tone of voice well from the apprentice days. They weren't too long ago, but no warrior forgets the tone indicating that a task was about to be assigned to them. "Cloudkit and Bramblekit have been with Fireheart for a little too long. Can you find them? I'm worried that Cloudkit's dragged them on another escapade."

The investigation had been many things, and it had made her do many things as well.

In and out of places, to and from cats were undeniably two of such things.

"I don't mind." Sandstorm meowed. Her head tilted toward the entrance, left ear falling. "Knowing Fireheart, I'm sure they're doing something."

"Knowing Fireheart, he's probably why they're doing something." The speckled queen made no effort to hide the venom in her voice, and Ashkit, while huddled against his mother, nodded firmly. Brindleface's tail lashed, creating a quiet pounding noise against the moss. "That tom couldn't keep those kits in check if they were newborn."

She wasn't even going to entertain that negativity.

"Be back soon." The sentence finished at the moment the deep orange light coated her pelt. Her eyes looked towards the canopy, the green leaves soaking in the rays. "Evening already..."

With her head already raised, she inhaled deeply.

Scents everywhere. Clawface's and Silverstream's scents had long since vanished since their stays, assimilated by the vast amount of ThunderClan. Flying freely were the trails of every kit, warrior, medicine cat, and elder bending around one another like a web of familiarity, and it hadn't taken more than a few seconds to pinpoint the one she was most intimate with, weaved around the obvious scent of kits.

Following it was no more difficult than tackling a leaf on a still day, almost an instinct for the green-eyed she-cat.

She chuckled, purring softly as Firestar was loafing against the wall between Bluestar's den and the warriors' den, eyes closed, body rigid, ears slightly angled down. In front of the warrior were Cloudkit and Bramblekit, looking as if they were frozen solid mid-combat. Bramblekit's paw was drawn over Cloudkit's face, while the white kit's jaw was spread wide, as if trying to intercept the paw.

With another step closer, the orange tabby's ears flew upward, and an eye opened. His hardened muscles melted back into his body as his gaze fell upon Sandstorm, a brightening smile growing on his face. He bent his neck to get a better view of the approaching she-cat.

"Brindleface?" Firestar asked, and Sandstorm nodded once. He sighed, turning his sights onto his nephew and Bramblekit. "Grab one, I'll get the other."

Sandstorm leaned forward and plucked Cloudkit from the strange position. While the kit typically fought whenever carried, he swung silently, a weak swipe of the paw as he dangled.

"They're out." The tom grabbed Bramblekit, who proved Firestar correct. Between the kits, they swung gently like branches on a peaceful day.

Firestar took the lead, raising an eyebrow as he looked back. Sandstorm met his side on the brief journey to return to the nursery.

Once Cloudkit was snug against Brindleface and Ashkit, and Bramblekit was sleeping beside Goldenflower, the nursery had felt a calm rarely seen since Cloudkit's arrival.

"Thank you, Sandstorm." Brindleface's words came out softly, accompanied by a quiet groan of reluctant gratitude from the speckled tom-kit. The queen then ran her tongue over Cloudkit until the light brown was no more.  As if collapsing, her head hit the bedding. "If it's no problem, I'd like to sleep while Cloudkit's not causing problems."

"Of course." Sandstorm watched as Tawnykit pressed herself between Goldenflower and Bramblekit, then rolled into a ball between her kin. The she-cat warrior focused back on the medicine cat. "I came for Spottedleaf, anyway."

The medicine cat hummed, eyes widening at her name. Spottedleaf then gave space to Speckletail and Snowkit, as it was no secret of the old queen's tail lashing or eagle-eyed glare of the tortoiseshell, then padded over to Sandstorm and Fireheart. Fernkit laughed when Spottedleaf poked her nose along the way.

Spottedleaf shot the two warriors a glance, leading them outside the bramble-covered den. Once out, the dappled she-cat turned, directing her gaze to Sandstorm with an almost professional expectation.

"What did you need from me?" The amber eyes darted from Sandstorm to the tabby, returning to Sandstorm afterward. The ginger she-cat's tail had already begun to wag, ears pointing backward, expecting the upcoming question. "You're not-"

"If a third cat assumes I'm pregnant, I'm clawing their eyes out."

"Sorry, Sandstorm." The she-cat in question mumbled a faint 'whatever' before flicking her paw towards Spottedleaf. "It's hard not to assume, given the circumstances."

Spottedleaf raised an arm and gestured to Firestar and Sandstorm. Sandstorm looked to Firestar, ears warming at his toothy, almost cocky grin, and she wanted to think that the tom was putting up a front. Sandstorm knew he wasn't, unfortunately, and the mouse-brained tabby knew he was able to be charming with some effort.

"I wanted to ask you about Tigerclaw." Spottedleaf hummed, and Sandstorm could feel the lack of confidence in the note. With as flat as it was, it hadn't raised her expectations for valuable information. "Yellowfang said you were the one who took care of Clawface the night he was killed."

"I was." Spottedleaf tilted her head, closed her eyes, and thought for a second. When her eyes opened, her tail flicked. "'Took care of' is a very generous way of saying it."

"Explain?"

Firestar stepped closer to Sandstorm, both warriors' ears raised and ready.

"Clawface didn't let me do anything. No touching, no examination, no talking, really anything that I would have liked or had to do, Clawface completely ignored me." Spottedleaf's tail increased in speed, and the medicine cat rolled her eyes with a breath of frustration. "Even though he was the one on guard, Tigerclaw didn't bother trying to help me. He hardly looked at me when I was there, if at all."

"Of course." Firestar groaned, sitting down and wrapping his tail around his legs. The position hadn't lasted more than a few seconds, with a growl and rapid aggression of the appendage. "That all but confirms that Tigerclaw had something to do with it, then."

"I'm not sure about that." The doubt in Firestar's eyes was heavy, as was the interest in Sandstorm's. "Clawface didn't move at all from his position from the previous night, but he was breathing." The confidence Spottedleaf lacked returned in full force. The amber brightening and strengthening with every word. "He'd bat Yellowfang and me away the few times we tried before that night, so we eventually had to give up trying anything related to speaking or touching."

"But then- Ugh." Sandstorm prodded the ground with her claws, muscles bulging when Firestar grazed her. When his tail covered the base of hers, she pulled back her natural weapons and tempered the building frustrations. "Maybe I need to check the prison location again."

Spottedleaf tapped the soil, drawing attention.

"Personally, I think you should rest." The ginger cat's growls rang loud enough to signal her emotions to the other two. Spottedleaf returned the intent with a harsh glare seldom seen on the kind she-cat. "Consider it an order from one of your medicine cats. Take the time to refresh your mind before you weaken it."

The tortoiseshell stood back up and took several steps towards her shared den.

"Your mind isn't something Yellowfang and I can fix -- It's on you to keep yourself sane. You have the perfect helper right beside you, after all."

As Spottedleaf headed back to the cave that formed her and Yellowfang's abode, the remaining she-cat gave way to the prodding of whiskers against her cheek.

Firestar looked more smug than usual, even tilting his head perfectly to elicit a growl from Sandstorm. She couldn't maintain the anger at him, given that he had nothing to do with said anger.

"What a role switch." He meowed, almost bass-like in its pitch. Beyond playful, it drew a purr from the pale cat. "I'm willing to return the favor for all the times you comforted me if that's something you're interested in."

An idea came to her mind.

They could both play this game, but because of his secret, whatever it may be, he was the only one who became uncomfortable when it crossed the line of simple teasing. She had learned that the thing he enjoyed most was company and time together, likely a result of something from his past.

Her cheek dragged across his, mixing purrs as they enjoyed doing. His vibrations stopped when Sandstorm pushed with more force, but his energy returned with reciprocation.

A smile grew on her muzzle when she raised a leg and lightly placed it on Firestar's shoulder. He mewed with confusion in his eyes, his left ear folding down with curiosity. The confusion turned into brief excitement when Sandstorm returned his affectionate smile, then a meow rang through camp as she shoved him to his side.

His head rose, eyes locked onto her. "Pushing? What are we, kits?" No frustration, no anger, only the voice of a tom in pleasant shock.

"You're welcome to return it." She stood up and stepped with purposeful temptation, stopping by his back and lowering her nose to a whisker-length from his. "If you can."

She could see his muscles tighten for a split second, then watched as the tom leaped back onto his feet. Within seconds, their positions had been swapped, with his paws gently pressing onto her shoulders. No claws, only paws, and enough pressure to signal the lightness of the situation.

"I know what kind of warrior you are," Firestar raised a brow, though made no effort to widen the distance between their muzzles. "And you could have easily dodged that."

Sandstorm couldn't hold in her laughter, three solid hm's. Green collided with green, purrs quieting, but audible to any cat perhaps a few tail-lengths away.

"You can't be that dense." Actually, on second thought, this is Fireheart... "For what reason would a she-cat let a tom pin her? I know you're smart enough to figure that out, especially given our... strange relationship."

Sandstorm could see her words bounce around Firestar's mind. Ears rising with obvious interest over the offer, falling with hesitance, the occasional swallow of nervousness, even a tail tip flick of a much different form of desire.

"I know you don't mean that." He turned his head away, though his ear flicked, and his grin cracked. When their eyes locked again, the expected feeling of discomfort was clear by the claws poking her shoulders, supported by the longing and near desperation that lingered through his speech. "...right?"

"I don't."

Below his relief lay disappointment that any could see. The tom all but jumped off of her, and the decreased weight had her sighing.

"I- I thought so." Firestar could no longer keep eye contact with her, and he stumbled over his steps. That oh-so familiar contemplation of his had returned. "I'm going now. To the medicine den." An awkwardness rarely present in the typically assured tom, clear as day. "Training."

His mouth opened, snapping shut as his eyes displayed varying stages of being shut. With another stutter of a goodbye, Firestar tredged to the cave as if he were forcing himself through knee-high mud.

Now that she was alone, the pounding of her heart took over the sounds of returning pawsteps and meows. Each beat was accompanied by a jerk of her ears and the slithering motion of her tail on the ground. Her breaths, deep and shallow, submitted to an erratic pattern. How wonderful it felt to indulge herself in a fraction of what could be.

But after, without missing, came the guilt, a weight Sandstorm had expected. The expectation did nothing to lower the heaviness.

She had given him space, and whenever she had, Firestar made a wall or repaired the one already constructed.

Maybe it was selfish and unhealthy, but he always seemed closer to revealing his secrets when they acted like mates. It didn't feel good to manipulate his emotions, or any cat for that matter, or to go back on her insistence of a platonic relationship so soon, but he needed a push. Sandstorm was only doing what the orange tabby needed.

At least that's what she was telling herself.

The sounds of pawsteps becoming louder as they neared drew her away from the thoughts and strategy that made her feel a little too close to Tigerclaw. A tail-length and increasing away was Graystripe, finally up from the day-long rest and silently padding to the camp entrance.

The gray tom skillfully avoided bumping into any cat like a water strider avoiding the strikes of a bird. It helped that none of the cats had intentions of interacting with Graystripe. It came as a shock that even Willowpelt's attempts to speak to her son were brief, gone as quickly as Willowpelt tried to initiate. Sandstorm could imagine it hadn't felt remotely positive to be treated or to treat as such on either side.

Mousefur and Runningwind were praising a very proud-looking Thornpaw as the apprentice placed a few rodents on the fresh kill pile. Brightpaw was happily following Whitestorm as the mentor-apprentice combination gave one another a respectful nod before going their own ways.

Tigerclaw and Darkstripe were returning together, and the sight made Sandstorm's eyes narrow, tail lash, and ears jab in reverse. Perhaps she'd picked up her orange companion's disdain for the pair, but any cat with any amount of clarity could smell the suspicion around them.

Speaking of...

Behind them came Longtail and Swiftpaw. Sandstorm could only growl at the light brown tabby tom. Longtail had made his choice, but dragging Swiftpaw alongside him enraged her in a way few things could. So much so that the feeling of earth between her claws and toes failed to reach her through the sight of red.

With a drag of the left paw, creating a cloud of dust and four deep trails, the ginger cat made her way through the returning crowd, changing her purpose to follow Spottedleaf's advice.

The warriors' den was filled with expected chatter. Cats speaking about patrols, outings, leisurely events, and other Clans, but all Sandstorm could hear was clutter. Pointless chatter that could only serve to give her a headache.

Her gaze started with her own nest, then drifted slightly to the left. Without a second thought behind the decision, the secondary nest became the one she chose.

His scent was still prevalent, a sedative of sorts for her boiling blood.

A few seconds of the quickly fading day were consumed placing her muzzle as deep into the nest as it would go, with some chin rubbing after. He wouldn't mind the extra scent, especially as it belonged to her.

With a sharp exhale, Sandstorm made of list of the information gathered.

Dustpelt had informed her that the scene of the crime was completely clean and that there were no signs of any struggle. Also, that Tigerclaw was the one who stood over Clawface, not Brokenstar, which was odd. Unfortunately, he couldn't remember any scents from two moons ago, but that seemed unlikely to matter.

Spottedleaf and Yellowfang were switching their caretaker role over Clawface. Clawface made things too difficult, and the two medicine cats were effectively forced to stop performing anything but visual check-ins, and Tigerclaw hadn't bothered to assist either of them in making Clawface talk. Clawface wasn't killed before that night due to still breathing.

What if Clawface couldn't talk?

She shook her head at the spontaneous thought.

That didn't make sense. The rogue's tongue would have to have been cut out, and that would leave blood everywhere, along with its scent. It would be more likely that Clawface simply refused to, as most cats expected of a rogue under Brokenstar.

How did Brokenstar get into camp to supposedly kill Clawface?

The clay dens were demolished and filled in, unless there were more, but she'd been on so many patrols searching for them that she could only pray to StarClan that each and every makeshift shelter was unusable.

Could Tigerclaw have snuck him inside?

An even harder shake of the head.

As much as she wanted to believe that, and her gut told her it was true, there were still too many cats about to allow Brokenstar to waltz into ThunderClan camp of all places without notice.

There was the hidden fern tunnel, but Brokenstar would have been killed by the queens piling on him the moment the former leader stepped a single paw near the nursery. There's no plausible reason the queens would allow him near the kits after what happened with Frostfur's kits, either. There's no reason the queens wouldn't be seeking out Brokenstar's life on that event alone.

Did Brokenstar utilize a life to stealth into camp?

Possible, but she didn't know how many he had left, or if the former leader was willing to use such a valuable resource on something seemingly insignificant. It also raised the problem of still getting in and out of camp without losing the rest of his lives.

Sandstorm's jaw hit the nest with a heavy thump.

Tigerclaw must be involved. That was the only thing she could think of, and the only thing different from the last conclusion she'd arrived at days after the murder.

Her eyes closed.

Tomorrow was another day for investigation. Hopefully, one that brought her even just a fur closer to proving it was Tigerclaw, or otherwise solving it.

Chapter Text

Whitestorm had done it six times already, and it wasn't even cracking sunhigh.

Into Bluestar's den, out minutes later. The deputy looked further saddened with every visit, but Whitestorm never allowed it to take precedent over his duties. Even the ones added by Bluestar's willing absence were taken by the white tom, as per the responsibilities of a deputy. A valuable deputy and cat, undeniably.

Despite how much her stomach growled, ached, and begged for nourishment, her mind stayed unbothered, eyes unmoving from Highrock.

In contrast, Tigerclaw had cared for Bluestar only once, and it was when camp had barely begun to stir, and the moon still had a share in the sky. Sandstorm hadn't seen the dark brown tom a single time since. Not with Bluestar, nor in camp. Tigerclaw hadn't shown any effort at all for a cat who supposedly cared about his leader.

"Sandstorm." The melodic hum of Goldenflower's call had Sandstorm's ears perked, though the ginger she-cat stayed still with a gaze on Highrock. "You've been there all morning without so much as a mouse. You should eat something."

"Not to mention that your fur is a mess," Speckletail added, in a far less maternal voice than Goldenflower had used. "I can see spots where it's nothing but matting."

"Watching Bluestar's den is important." Sandstorm's tail flicked. Whitestorm had his head down, ears high, eyes half-closed as he exited the den.

"So is keeping yourself functioning." The pale cat couldn't refute it, though she growled in response to Goldenflower regardless. The queen sounded displeased with such a reaction, speaking in a tone that dropped all pretenses of a suggestion. "Eat."

Sandstorm broke the sight for the first time in, frankly, she didn't know how long. Half an hour? A couple of hours?

Brindleface was sleeping not-so-elegantly, with the speckled queen's muzzle open, drool leaving a trail to be absorbed by the moss, with Ashkit under Brindleface's foreleg, sleeping just as deeply. Speckletail was curled beside her daughter, with Snowkit staring at his mother's tail with the intent of a hunter. Snowkit's stance wasn't terrible for a kit, and Sandstorm imagined that Snowkit could be quite the hunter when he grew.

Bramblekit, Tawnykit, and Fernkit were frozen, staring at Goldenflower after the stern command. The three kits' eyes floated towards Sandstorm. Cloudkit was unbothered by the queen's intent, taking the opportunity to launch himself toward Bramblekit, pinning the tiny-Tigerclaw on his back.

"No fair!" Cloudkit flashed a proud smile at the small tabby's loud, but adorable, outrage. "You can't pin me when I'm distracted!"

"Then don't be distracted, Brokenstar," Bramblekit growled at the name, and Sandstorm figured out they were playing pretend. Cloudkit looked as if he'd know what he'd done. He simply hadn't cared. "Fireheart wins again."

"Why am I always Brokenstar?" Bramblekit huffed, his stiff tail doing its best to display his frustration. "And why are you always Fireheart? Why can't I be Fireheart?"

"Because I'm his nephew!" The pride shifted to entitlement, disappearing when the small tabby struck the fluffy kit.

Aside from Snowkit's shuffling as he dived towards Speckletail's tail, the nursery was blanketed with silence. Through Cloudkit's fur, a single drop. The blood spread through his fur rapidly, assimilating the white into crimson until it couldn't spread further. Barely less than a quarter of the kit's face was taken by the diluted red coloring.

"No claws!" The formerly pure-white kit was unfazed by the wound or discoloring, his blue eyes dead set on Bramblekit, who sported a surprised look at the blood, but ultimately matched the harsh glare of the kit atop him. The rumbling of Brindleface turned all heads towards the waking queen. "Now look what you did!"

"You started it-"

"That's enough." Goldenflower intervented, lightly displacing Cloudkit and pulling her son into her chest. The newly awoken she-cat yawned, smacking her lips. "Get cleaned off Cloudkit."

"StarClan, what'd he do now...?" Cloudkit took heavy steps towards his foster mother, the fatigued queen rubbing her eyes with a paw, the shaking resulting in a weak growl from Ashkit. Brindleface's eyes widened upon seeing the drying blood. "What did you do?"

Cloudkit looked offended at the question. "I didn't do it!" Like a thick branch, the kit's leg went stiff as he pointed towards Bramblekit. "He did it!" Brindleface pressed her tongue against Cloudkit's bloody cheek. "No-"

Cloudkit redirected his pointing towards Sandstorm, and the ginger cat waved the silent plea away, leaving the kit helpless against the slow, methodical cleaning of his cheek.

Bramblekit leaned on Goldenflower, his tail and back fur fluffed out. His front paws couldn't be any closer unless they fused, but he was adamant on giving Cloudkit a nasty stare. It wasn't as subtle as the kit likely imagined it to be.

"Take Cloudkit to the fresh kill pile." Sandstorm's stomach growled at the mention of the location. Said kit leaped away from Brindleface's grasp, and Cloudkit happily trotted toward Sandstorm. Brindleface cleared her throat, and Sandstorm's focus shifted to her. "Make sure your eyes don't leave him for even a moment. He got out of camp again yesterday."

"I did not!" Brindleface's glare lowered to the white ball of fluff. The motherly love, concern, and fatigue mixed to create a frightening set of eyes for any kit. Cloudkit looked proud of his endeavors, as stressful as they were for the queen. "Okay, I did."

"He got out after Fireheart and I returned with him?" Sandstorm bent her neck down, greeted by the front muzzle of Cloudkit bending his head up. Had she not known better, the false innocence in his eyes may have fooled her. "How'd he manage that?"

Brindleface shrugged, yawning again, while Ashkit traded stares with Cloudkit. Ashkit turned his head, breaking the ocular contact, closing his eyes when the fuzzy kit mewed in what sounded like relief.

"Take him out." Speckletail urged, forcing her tail in erratic patterns for Snowkit to chase. "The nursery could use the moment of respite. And I believe Bramblekit needs a lesson to not use claws during play."

Goldenflower agreed; the glare was enough to push out any rebellion from the tabby kit. Bramblekit sat obediently, waiting for whatever punishment awaited him, while Cloudkit had started steps that resembled leaps towards the nursery entrance, a wide smile spread across his muzzle.

Sandstorm excused herself, needing to move in a gentle jog to reach Cloudkit, already a paw out the door when the ginger she-cat caught up to him. The fact that he was wounded or moving quickly was a thing of the past that no longer mattered to the kit. The trip to the fresh-kill pile, no matter how short a trip it would be, fueled the kit with boundless reserves of energy. Not that he needed assistance with such a thing.

At only halfway, a surge of pain came from her gut with a growl that surely pulled attention. It would've been shocking if half the day hadn't passed without so much as a snack.

"You must be hungry." Cloudkit didn't bother looking anywhere but forward.

"That's putting it lightly." Her eyes drifted to Bluestar's den, then her nose caught the succulence of prey. She lowered her head. "Do you have a favorite prey-"

Cloudkit was gone. Not a single strand of fur or so much as a warning. Her ears perked at the tiniest taps, pulling her attention towards the little puffball, absent-mindedly following Firestar, with Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw in tow. The mentor and apprentices were leaving camp, which Sandstorm imagined was for training.

The kit groaned when his scruff was grabbed, and Sandstorm pulled him back to the invisible trail.

"Oh, come on!" Sandstorm narrowed her eyes, which typically worked. Cloudkit, however, cared little for authority when something interested him. "I've already been out of camp three times!"

The bite was released, and Cloudkit stumbled in place before he bolted back to his kin. Sandstorm placed a paw on his back and pushed the kit to the ground. It wasn't with much force, but a kit barely over two moons old stood no chance of retaliation against a trained warrior.

"That wasn't permission to go," Sandstorm added, feeling the small body wriggle persistently under her weight. She waited for a few minutes until the kit had finally given in to the situation, huffing at his unorthodox prison. "And you shouldn't be out of camp at all."

"But I caught prey!" Cloudkit turned around, stomping his left forepaw. His size wasn't enough to cause even a sputter of dust. The kit looked just as determined as any warrior, however. "That makes me a hunter!"

"No," She quickly corrected, trying to mimic the queens' voice of harsh, yet loving, concern, and only somewhat succeeding. "That makes you skilled." Despite trying to hide it, his lip curled at the praise. "But that means nothing if you can't use it properly."

Then his smile flipped upside down. "But I did use it!"

"So, you're a warrior?" The kit eagerly and urgently nodded. Sandstorm smirked, thanking all of her time with Firestar would pay off. Particularly, the long talks about Cloudkit and Bramblekit. "If you're a warrior, then what's the first rule of the code?"

The white muzzle spread, and out came a squeak. Not a single word followed.

Cloudkit sat down, and his ears fell.

"You weren't listening when Brindleface explained them to you, were you?"

"...maybe." Sandstorm lowered her head, which caused Cloudkit to step on her feet to meet her eyes. The shamelessness vanished, clear frustration in his rigid stature. "I know some of them, just not the first one." He pushed himself up without warning, hitting their noses together. "Give me another one!"

She pulled back a muzzle length. "What's the eleventh rule of the code?"

Cloudkit froze. "There are eleven of them?"

"Sixteen, actually." The kit's eyes widened with an audible gasp of excitement, and Sandstorm chuckled before tensing as another pang struck her gut. She gently nudged Cloudkit off of her paw. "Let me eat something first, and I'll answer your questions."

With a nod from Cloudkit, Sandstorm took a step towards the fresh-kill pile. After a second thought, she grabbed Cloudkit by the scruff and carried him the necessary distance. He fussed initially, but the briefness of the journey proved enough to prevent another mood.

When sat down, Cloudkit leaped into the pile. Sandstorm raised a paw to stop him, but the kit had been surrounded by mice, squirrels, and various species of birds. Moments passed, and Sandstorm lowered her neck to grab a robin, only for Cloudkit to jump out, startling the she-cat.

Between his jaws, a shockingly fat shrew as Cloudkit held himself high. As high as a young, feeble kit could with such prey.

Still, Cloudkit held it well, despite shaking from the weight. Sandstorm took it, and the kit sighed. Holding something as nearly large as himself had managed to tire him.

"It's heavy." Was the first remark, but with a jump, as high as the kit could manage, he started to beam like snow reflecting sunlight. "I wanted to give it to Fireheart, but I like you, too, so you can have it."

To feel like a second fiddle or grateful, she wasn't sure which one to indulge.

Either way, filling her stomach felt like StarClan had blessed her. It helped that there was a kit immensely proud of himself, watching every swallow as if both of their lives depended on it. The extra fur provided by kithood waved in the breeze, despite the wind being hardly capable of moving leaves. Not particularly warm, Cloudkit seemed capable of handling the increasing temperatures well enough.

Cloudkit lay down on Sandstorm's paw, crawling up to her ankle with pointed ears, high tail, and wide pupils.

"Okay," She meowed in concession, and it felt like tiny thistles were poking her with the kit's excitement, causing an involuntary unsheathing of his claws. "What do you want to ask me?"

"When can I be a warrior?" Cloudkit had barely let Sandstorm finish her question before filling the space with his voice. His blue eyes were reminiscent of Silverpelt with the stars inside the gaze. "I can already hunt and track! I'm halfway there!"

Her ears fell with empathy. "There's more to being a warrior than hunting and tracking."

"Oh, I can fight too!" He assured the she-cat, raising a paw to fully show his claws. He then jumped back.

Cloudkit smacked the ground a few times, though despite his attempt to boast of his talents, his claws hadn't come close to piercing the ground. A few pounces onto nothing later, Cloudkit looked back to the ginger cat with enthusiasm at any assessment.

While the kit likely saw himself as a lion, Sandstorm could only see Cloudkit for what he was: a mischievous, eager, though well-intentioned, kit ready to get into more trouble.

"How are you supposed to be a warrior if you don't know the code?"

The ball of fur stopped in place, humming loudly at the inquiry. After a moment, he popped his head up and gave it a hearty reply. "I'll follow the good rules, obviously."

"Good rules?" Cloudkit nodded so hard that the kit nearly fell from the self-imposed dizziness. Sandstorm extended a paw to catch him before he could strike soil. "You must follow all of the rules of the code. They are there for a reason."

"But it's so boooriiing!" His words were slurred together, and Sandstorm turned her focus to Bluestar's den.

Just in time, Whitestorm had entered the cave. That made seven to Tigerclaw's one, a ratio that no cat could ignore. Tigerclaw was doing something, and all she needed was one slip-up from the dark tabby to prove it. When he'd make that mistake wasn't something she knew, but it'd happen eventually. It had to.

"-so dumb!" Pulled from her thoughts, Cloudkit was trailing a circle, staining his recently cleaned fur with the soft brown of the earth. With a quick stomp from all four legs, blue tied with green, eyes locked. "Why should I listen to what StarClan says when they don't help any cat but Fireheart? I like Fireheart, but that's not very fair."

"StarClan helps when it's necessary... unless you're Fireheart, I suppose." Sandstorm raised a brow. "Did he teach you to disobey the code?"

Cloudkit denied it with a shake of the upper half of his body. "He said I should break it if I think it's important." The kit angled his head and grumbled. "I don't know what that means," Then perked, another smile spreading across his lips. "But it sounded important, so I nodded along."

You really are serious about the code changing. She thought to herself, mind filling with striped orange and words they had spoken many moons ago. I'm not against improving Clan lives. I just wish you'd tell me why you'd go so far as to teach a kit these things.

"Does he teach Bramblekit these things as well?" Any playfulness was long gone, replaced by a seriousness that was almost urgent, perhaps desperate. It mixed with a hunger to create a curiosity dangerous for any cat. "Do you know?"

"Maybe. He says he wants Bramblekit to be nicer." One brow wasn't enough to display her interest, and Cloudkit shifted from confidence to an overly strong cockiness. "I think Fireheart's right. Bramblekit uses his claws too much, and he's too loud, and he's super annoying, and he wants too much attention, and he acts too brave, and-"

"Okay, I understand." Cloudkit puffed out his cheeks, almost disappointed that he couldn't continue his complaining about the tabby kit. Sandstorm stood, mind swirling with too many things at once to sort. Having Cloudkit with her wasn't going to help organize her thoughts, either. "Let's return to the nursery."

"Aw, but-"

"I need time to think, Cloudkit." The kit growled at the idea, but he didn't fuss until Sandstorm took him by the scruff. "And I'm going to make sure you stay in the nursery."

Any idea that the kit was carrying, and likely planning to enact given the opportunity, spilled from Cloudkit's slight hiss. All the way back to nursery was a stream of complaints, none of which were given any consideration, much to his frustration.

When placed by Brindleface's side, he attempted to step away, was grabbed by Ashkit, and pulled back to the queen. Ashkit didn't react as Cloudkit rotated his neck, giving his foster brother a nasty glare in response to the limitation. Unfortunately for the fluffy white kit, Ashkit had a poker face one could consider to be practiced, comparable to a stone wall.

Sandstorm turned to Goldenflower, wrapped in a ball around Bramblekit and Tawnykit, eyes focused on the ginger she-cat with a laser focus.

Before Sandstorm could speak, the tabby queen had beaten her to it.

"You look determined, as usual." The remark was casual, though holding a hint of sincere understanding. Goldenflower raised her head, tilted it toward Cloudkit for a moment. "I'll make sure that Cloudkit stays. Do what you need."

"Thank you." Goldenflower gave it no special reply, her left paw lifting as if to encourage Sandstorm to move faster, which she obliged as she stepped out of the bramble-covered den. She sighed as her paws carried her towards the warriors' nests. "Glad I've become close with the queens."

The warriors' den was somewhat bustling, as much as it could be. Mousefur, Runningwind, and Longtail were locked in a conversation where the occasional laugh or tail flick occurred. Dustpelt was speaking to Frostfur, though the conversation looked dull if the disinterest in Frostfur's stillness was any indication. While those five cats were nice to find, there was another that Sandstorm wished to find.

And as her eyes settled on the corner, she moved with haste towards the tom.

"Graystripe." The tail flicked in response at the name, but ears rose with interest regardless. "Can you watch Bluestar's den for me?"

Graystripe rolled over, a scrunched muzzle and confusion in his half-lidded eyes. "...why?"

"Just keep track of how many times Tigerclaw and Whitestorm enter." The perplexity plaguing the tom didn't decrease. In contrast, it increased. "And keep track of where Tigerclaw is, if you can."

"I-" The motion drained from Graystripe, and he shrugged, getting to his paws and stretching. With a smack of the lips, he moved towards the den entrance. "Sure, whatever." The warrior grumbled. "I guess I can see if Silverstream's in our spot when you get back."

Sandstorm caught up, nuzzling against Graystripe briefly. "I appreciate it, Graystripe." He didn't purr, a blank silence in response to her gratitude. She flashed the beaten-down tom a smile. "I'm sure it'll get better for you and Silverstream soon."

"Ha." The laugh felt soulless, unnerving even to the determined she-cat. "Better..."

The urge to sit and speak with Graystripe was strong, but he'd managed two moons in this state. There was something else that she wanted to know, and only a certain fire-colored cat could satisfy her curiosity. Sate the hunger that only strengthened the more she pushed her nose into others' affairs. A nosiness required by the role given to her by Bluestar.

Her paws felt the sand grind between each toe, a breeze neither warm nor cold against her fur, and a comfort watching the back of the orange tabby as his voice echoed.

"Try again, Cinderpaw."

The gray apprentice gave a quick nod, lunging back towards Brackenpaw, her right foreleg stretched, toes spread as if she were preparing to unsheathe her claws. Her claws remain unused as Cinderpaw's entire right side seemed to move with her leg. Brackenpaw avoided the swipe with ease, taking two jumps back, his amber eyes unmoving from his sister.

Sandstorm noticed Firestar's tail lash at the chain of actions, but he made no efforts to intervene.

Cinderpaw prepared a lunge, resulting in Brackenpaw tensing in awareness of the oncoming assault.

With a push of her hind legs, Cinderpaw launched like a startled fish through the air, the sand creating clouds behind her. She held her leg out once more, which Brackenpaw traced with his eyes, baring a cold, calculating nature. The moment went flat when Cinderpaw smacked the sand in a feint, until she took a step forward.

Brackenpaw did the opposite, though the sand proved unstable, and his traction waned against his sibling's onslaught.

The golden-brown tabby avoided the first swipe with a duck of his head, taking another step in reverse. Cinderpaw allowed no room for recovery, darting closer to Brackenpaw, whose calmness was shaken with widened eyes. In a moment of desperation, Brackenpaw raised his leg and swung, a strike that only tore wind as Cinderpaw used the time needed to regain his position to land a smack across her brother's muzzle.

Though claws were forbidden in training, the plap was clear, audible even to Sandstorm standing a fox-length behind Firestar.

Brackenpaw's feet dug into the sand, creating mounds above his paws. Cinderpaw huffed, charging for another blow.

Sandstorm noticed the decrease in speed for the typically hyperactive apprentice. Enough for Brackenpaw to take control of the situation.

As Brackenpaw lifted a leg and swung, the strike was intercepted by Firestar, now standing between the siblings. The orange tom was unbothered by the paw that hit his head and caused his ear to press flat. Brackenpaw apologized as he took his paw away from his mentor.

"Better," The apprentices beamed at the praise, but Firestar's voice turned from pleased to a stern yet caring disappointment. "But there are clear flaws."

And Sandstorm had to agree. It seems the siblings were aware of them as well, given their flat ears and slouching. Or, perhaps, this wasn't the first time they'd made these mistakes.

Firestar turned to Cinderpaw first, who lit up despite the lesson about to be taught to her.

"First and foremost, you're too aggressive." Then Cinderpaw saddened again, but the mentor gave no space for sweet talk. "You expend too much energy with each attack, not to mention you leave yourself wide open against a cat capable of quicker attacks."

Sandstorm nodded. Any warrior, young or senior, could see those flaws as clear as the sun.

"And you're too predictable." While the ginger she-cat kept her state of agreement, it did confuse her slightly. Firestar continued, words no less strict and instructing. "Your eyes speak of your intent. Where you're aiming, where you plan to strike next. Any trained cat will be able to use that against you -- draw out your energy, tire you out, then retaliate. Work on your feints, openings, and how much energy you use."

"Okay, Fireheart." Cinderpaw meowed, unable to look her mentor straight on. "I understand."

Then the fiery tom spun around, the sand still against his practiced and efficient movement. It was as if he hadn't moved at all, leaving no trace of his sudden jerk.

"Brackenpaw," The tom stood tall, matching Firestar's stare with one of his own. "You're too defensive. You let Cinderpaw control the pace of the fight until the very end, and you never stood your ground."

Brackenpaw nodded, the rest of his body still as a rock, ears pointed towards the darkening orange sky.

"Cinderpaw had given you several opportunities to attack where she was in a disadvantageous position, and the moment you couldn't keep up your walls, she broke through easily." Another nod. "You also lead with your eyes, and that caused you to lose to a single feint when what you expected to happen didn't happen."

"And you only moved backwards. That's giving your opponent ground while reducing the space you control. As a defensive fighter, you need to control the pace of the fight, your positioning, your balance, as well as your opponent's movements at the same time." Brackenpaw's confidence wavered in front of Firestar's leader-like voice and stature. "Practice reading your opponent and knowing when to counter them, as well as avoiding their strikes with the least amount of movement possible."

"Yes, Fireheart." The golden tom tried to keep his words still, but they shook despite the effort. "I understand."

"Cinderpaw, come here." The apprentice joined her brother and Firestar with her head down. Both siblings looked defeated, which shifted to confusion when the warrior tom pulled them into an embrace. "You two are getting better, and you'll be strong warriors when the time comes. I'm very proud to have you as my apprentices, and you should be very proud of your progress."

Cinderpaw was the first to give in to the praise, purring loudly and digging herself into Firestar's neck, nuzzling without restraint. Sandstorm noticed the hint of sadness that coated her companion's eyes while looking at Cinderpaw, before it dissipated as Brackenpaw joined with his own song of purrs. The moment was warm, unbothered by the gales that cooled as the sun dipped under the horizon.

Firestar raised his head, pupils growing as his eyes lay on Sandstorm. He smiled at her, though he waited for the apprentices to step away on their own accord. Brackenpaw went first, greeting Sandstorm with a silent half-bow. Cinderpaw, on the other end, was far too invested in the physical contact; the she-cat's eyes closed in what Sandstorm personally recognized as pure bliss.

The orange tom focused his sights on Sandstorm, displaying an awkwardness as his ears fell. Brackenpaw sighed, moving behind Firestar and Cinderpaw. He squeezed himself between the two, his front legs peeking first, then pushed his sister away from their mentor.

Cinderpaw whined as her moment came to an end, but she made no effort to reenact the position. Firestar's stare moved to his apprentices.

"It's getting late. Let's return to camp so you two can rest properly." Then he focused on Sandstorm, his smile subtle but oh-so obvious. Even from almost three fox-lengths away, the pale she-cat could hear his purrs as he padded towards her. "I think there's something for me to do as well."

Their muzzles touched briefly, eyes closed, before Sandstorm pushed forward, dragging along his side. A few moments later, the two warriors were pointing in the same direction, and Sandstorm took great pleasure in causing Firestar to swallow in what she assumed to be nervousness.

"Tense." Sandstorm mewed casually. His muscles were almost bulging at her touch, and his smile shared in the rigidness. "Did my offer yesterday throw you off?"

Firestar chuckled awkwardly, and he rolled his eyes. "It was a shock, to say the least." That wasn't a surprise to her, given how often the tabby had mooned over her and her with him. "I hope the offer is real once I do tell you."

"I'll decide when and if you tell me at all."

"I'm working on it." He sounded genuine in his endeavors, sincerity and guilt a nasty blend for the tom to endure. One that they both understood to be a hole of his own making. "I'm going out tonight. To twolegplace, specifically."

Her eyes widened, ears shooting upward. "Twolegplace? What for?"

"To see Princess." More shame swallowed his expression, but he inhaled and let his breath rejoin the breeze. "A test, it could be called." That only confused her further, and Brackenpaw had started the walk back to camp. "I need a non-Clan cat's opinion. A cat who won't have to see me every day for the rest of my life, should my fears be proven correct."

"Sounds like overthinking if you ask me."

"It may be, I admit." They started to walk after Brackenpaw, maintaining nearly half a tree-length between the warriors and the apprentice, a quiet yet clear growl from behind them. "But I'm calmer than during my usual bouts of overthinking, wouldn't you say?"

"I suppose I'll give you that." Reluctance coated her words, their paws moving from the coarseness of sand to the softness of grass. Sandstorm took a step away, creating a paw-step distance. The orange tom's ears flattened, but he made no rebuttals over the action. "Cloudkit told me some very interesting things about what you've been teaching him."

"Believe it or not, he'd be that way regardless of what I taught him." Firestar focused forward, as if he'd never been ashamed or flustered minutes prior. "Cloudkit is a very stubborn and loyal cat, but he's not afraid to break rules when necessary."

"Necessary?" Sandstorm repeated, emphasizing the idea that it was Cloudkit as the topic of conversation. "Cloudkit would break a rule if it looked fun, regardless of how dangerous it might be." Her mind flashed back to earlier. "He does break rules when he thinks it looks fun."

Firestar's ears fell, pointing at a sharp angle towards the ground they stepped on. "Y- Yes, that is... undeniably true, but should Cloudkit keep that mentality, he'll be a great warrior when it comes to doing the right thing."

Sandstorm kept quiet.

She couldn't disagree with that notion, given that Cloudkit could already track and hunt exceptionally well for a kit. That bar wasn't high, since kits shouldn't be out of camp, but if that talent were nurtured properly, the kit could grow into a very respectable warrior. One capable of making hard decisions when necessary without the need for guidance.

Or maybe the tabby was biased towards his nephew, and that bias had begun creeping into her mind as well.

"There was something else I wanted to poke you about, if you don't mind." Firestar remained silent, and the ginger she-cat took it as the go-ahead. "Our kits--our theoretical kits." She corrected.

His confidence waned further, indicated by the shaking of the word. "Yes?"

"You speak so fondly about them."

"What tom wouldn't be excited for kits?" He replied, neck stiff, coated in almost purposeful deflection.

"I can name several now," She half-joked until her mood hardened like stone. "But you must know what I mean. That fondness isn't one a cat like you can feign." The fire-pelted tom turned his head away from Sandstorm, and she kept her claws from unsheathing any further than the tip. "You speak of them as if you've spent time with them. Longer than what you've lived."

He opened his mouth then clamped it shut. He slouched, tail sagging behind him, but he made no effort to change the topic or refute her accusations.

As Sandstorm tried to speak again, a blur of gray had placed itself between them.

"When you say I'm too aggressive,"

Cinderpaw's tail lashed viciously as the apprentice's eyes set upon Sandstorm, softening once she stepped closer to Firestar with an innocence in her eyes. The quiet purr originating from Cinderpaw's chest rubbed Sandstorm the wrong way. Likely intentional on the apprentice's part.

"Do you think I should change?"

"Pardon?" From timid to mentor, Firestar switched faster than any of the three could twitch a whisker. "No, absolutely not. I've told you this before. Stay yourself, Cinderpaw, and the Clan will be better for it."

Sandstorm rolled her eyes, holding back the chuff building in her throat.

"I remember, I just wanted to hear you say it again." With that smugness, there was no mistaking it. The gray she-cat was trying to instigate a reaction from Sandstorm. "When can we train again?"

"In a few days, after you and Brackenpaw rest, just as we've always done." Green peeked over the apprentice, and Sandstorm matched the gaze. Firestar's ears fell, and the wave of awkward and uncomfortable sensation was felt by both warriors. Turning his attention back to Cinderpaw, he spoke. "How about you catch up to Brackenpaw? I'm sure he's almost back to camp."

"Aww." After deflating, Cinderpaw displayed her typical energy. "I guess I can if you tell me to."

She nuzzled against Firestar, positioning her head under his chin. Sandstorm's tail darted at the provocation, and pity grew in the pale she-cat's heart as Cinderpaw stuck her tongue out. The apprentice then entered a sprint, blowing away grass and fallen leaves with every step.

When out of earshot, Firestar groaned, slowing his pace and lowering his head. "I almost wish I were oblivious again..."

"You're not going to shut her down?"

"I know that I should, but she looks so happy. Seeing her run and train to be a warrior." The recognizable sight of grief in his eyes filled Sandstorm with curiosity. The grief intensified when his eyes followed the trail left behind in Cinderpaw's wake. "I understand her crush on me and her warrior training are separate, but I'd feel terrible for taking away her joy again."

"Again?"

With great exasperation, he shook his head, breaking his slow speed with a growing jog. The contemplation in his face was just on time for him to create distance between them. Too much to continue the conversation.

Seems she wasn't receiving an answer on that topic for the time being.

When she had reached camp, the moon was cresting. Only the very tip of the lunar mass, but it was the moon nonetheless. Where lay a golden orange hours ago, rest a deep purple through the canopy. Silverpelt was as strong and beautiful among the hues as it ever was.

Sandstorm moved to the warriors' den, where Graystripe was sitting like a log, head turned toward Bluestar's den. His ears perked as she approached.

"So?" She asked without hesitation.

"Whitestorm went in twice." The striped tom started, his voice blanketed with apathy. "Tigerclaw, I haven't seen so much as go near Highrock." He turned to Sandstorm, an almost longing in his eyes. "Is that all you needed from me?"

"Yes, Graystripe. Thank you."

He raised a paw and immediately took off towards the entrance in silence. Each step was light, a practiced stealth through his moons of meeting Silverstream. He had no reason to remain secretive, and it drove her interest up to think about why Graystripe remained as such.

Regardless, nine to one was disfavorable for Tigerclaw. Whitestorm had shown more care and concern over Bluestar than Tigerclaw did to even his own kits, and it only cemented her concern that the dark tabby was plotting. At the very least, he was involved in something that, chances are, wouldn't be beneficial for ThunderClan. If Sandstorm had to wager, she'd bet on the side of it being much the opposite.

She stepped into the warriors' den, where much of the camp had gathered to settle in for the night.

Whitestorm in the center of the den, surrounded by Mousefur and Longtail huddled together, Runningwind stretched out behind his sister, with Tigerclaw sitting still, eyes closed, in the most shadow-ridden corner. It was almost eerie watching the amber slowly grow within the darkness. With the movement of Tigerclaw's head, his eyes left trails of said amber behind, all the way to the entrance where the moon provided proper light.

What is this? An omen?

Her sarcastic thoughts were only that, but as she moved further towards her nest, the large tom had made his way out of the den. By the entrance lay Darkstripe, also sporting closed eyes, but high ears, as if on alert.

Beside her nest lie Firestar's. The orange warrior met her gaze briefly, then jerked away. He padded out of the den in the same way that Tigerclaw had.

The only difference between the toms was that Sandstorm knew what her orange confidant was doing and where he was going.

As her chin hit the moss, her eyes closed, and fatigue threatened to take over. Fighting it off was nothing, not for a cat as curious as her, and time moved as it always did.

The rustling of moss occurred, which she had to assume to be many minutes later. Opening a single eye revealed to her that Darkstripe was uncoiling from his sleeping position, before the tom curled around the edge of the branches that helped form the doorway.

Why are you moving? Her tail flicked behind her, creating a much quieter rustle as it smacked the bedding. If you were going to follow Tigerclaw, you wouldn't have needed to wait. Are you going after Fireheart, instead?

That could be bad, but it wasn't as if the tabby going to twolegplace came as a surprise to any ThunderClan cat. Cloudkit had displayed his interest in seeing his birth mother once Firestar began to speak of Princess. Spottedleaf and Yellowfang had vouched for him due to the amount of catmint and other herbs that he'd fetched over the course of his training. If the medicine cats insisted it was okay, only Bluestar could veto such a decision, and it wasn't as if Bluestar had any reason to pay mind to Firestar. Not with their relationship being in tatters.

Then, a click.

Unless you're trying to stop Fireheart from following Tigerclaw, that is...

His eyes lie upon the row of twoleg nests. Some had lights still on, others were only illuminated by the street's tall and lanky lights. As bright as they ever were, the tabby's eyes almost stung looking at them, even from this distance.

Treating his sister like a test wasn't something he wanted to do, but it was the safest bet. Losing Princess's support and relationship with him would hurt, but it was tolerable compared to any Clan cat. Guilt continually ate at him for how he caused Bluestar to resent him. He couldn't live with himself if that were Sandstorm, Cloudkit, or even Bramblekit.

Perhaps he could, but it'd be nothing short of hell.

One breath in, another out. Again, deeper this time. Repeating until the shame went away. Never fully. That was too great a privilege that Firestar wasn't privy to. One that he didn't deserve. Not for this idea, anyway.

His paws hit the wood, a gentle warmth despite the unforgiving cold of the moon's drafts. It felt as if he'd shatter like ice with every step closer to the cat door. Any motion greater than the breeze would tip his mind off, destroying the fragile balance and determination that dragged his claws down the house's flesh.

Part of the tom was hoping that Princess wouldn't answer his call. Twolegs had their queens keep kits for around two to three moons, so it was likely she still had the other four kits with her. Maybe she was too busy to answer, and he could walk back to camp with a heart only slightly broken.

How foolish those hopes were.

"Fireheart." Unlike her typical greetings, Princess was hushed. Regardless, she purred at the sight of her kin, wasting no time in nuzzling Firestar energetically. When she stepped back, her ears fell, and her brows folded with concern. "You've never visited me so late at night. Has something happened? Is Cloudkit okay?"

"Cloudkit is fine." The mother emptied her lungs in relief that her son was well. "I'm just here to say something."

Princess nodded, and her positivity only strengthened the chokehold that guilt had taken on him. His claws dug into the wood, the thought of throwing away the opportunity rampant.

But the future needed this. Steps had to be taken to ensure a better outcome.

He needed this.

"I died and came back from the future." He spat quickly, dipping his head. Seeing any reaction would be too much. "I knew you were here the entire time. I knew you were going to have kits, and I knew you'd give me Cloudkit because he was your firstborn." His eyes slowly rose to meet the same shade of green that belonged to his sister. "I mainly befriended you because of Cloudkit."

While shock was the primary emotion in the tabby she-cat's eyes, her ears fell, and her eyes carried a deep softness. Not of rage, nor of disappointment. It was sorrow. Sympathy.

"If you're being truthful," She stepped forward, embracing her brother, placing her muzzle against his neck. "That must be such a heavy burden to carry." His body relaxed, vision blurring with the welling that was happening. "I'm sorry, Fireheart."

A drop hit Princess's back, running down her spine slowly. Another followed before the wood below their feet was hit was the tears in place of the queen. Princess still only held love and care with how gently she moved. How softly she spoke.

"Do you want to talk about it?" His eyes widened, and his heart raced at the offer. "I'll listen to anything you want to tell me." Princess smiled in the way only she could. "Just like I always have."

Firestar's muzzle hung open, but he was already here. There was no returning.

"I'm afraid of messing things up with Sandstorm. Telling her about the fact that we were mates, that we had two daughters... that I became leader of ThunderClan." Princess nodded, using the back of her left paw to wipe away the tears that he hadn't let go. "I don't want Sandstorm to think too differently of me when I tell her, but I know that she will."

He purred, despite the flooding from his eyes.

"And our daughters. Squirrelflight and Leafpool." He lay down, muzzle between his legs, voice nearly caving on itself. "I miss them. StarClan, I miss them so much." His claws created grooves in the wood as he pulled his legs closer to himself. "Assuming that Sandstorm doesn't despise me and we become mates again, we can't even have kits while Tigerclaw is alive. I don't even know if it'd be them again, or entirely different kits."

He jerked his head up at the sudden contact. Princess's paw was resting peacefully on his. The tightness in his chest let loose. Only slightly, but it was better than feeling as if he was going to collapse in on himself.

"And if they weren't the same kits," His paws contracted, almost painfully, at the idea that Princess repeated. "Would you still love them the same?"

"Yes!" He replied without allowing a second to pass. "Of course I would! They'd still be my kits, and I'd give them everything that I could." Firestar jumped to his paws, radiating the confidence that a leader should, a growl in his words. "I gave nine lives for my family and Clan, and I'd do it again. Without hesitation."

"I'm not the smartest cat around," Princess smiled, tilting her head slightly. Firestar's stance faltered, but his sister sat directly in front of him, green on green. "But it's very easy to understand why you're hesitant, but I also believe you're too worried."

"You're just taking this too well-"

"Because I must mean something to you." The tom froze at the retort. Princess stepped to his side, softly placing the sides of their heads together, a small bonk echoing briefly in the wind. "You still see me, even though Cloudkit is already in ThunderClan. You haven't left me alone, despite being able to."

"From how I understand it, that means I'm important to you." Firestar gave a slow, far-from-graceful nod. The queen leaned forward, as pleasant and positive as was typical of her. "For all of this effort, and all of the important things you must be dealing with, with the knowledge that you have, you haven't forgotten me. You've taken the effort to build a bond with me again, despite not needing to."

"From what you've told me and what I've seen, I don't imagine Sandstorm would view it much differently." Her ears shot upward and to the flap, and the motherly instinct of all good queens took over her eyes. She stepped away, moving back towards the cat door. "Nami, Livy, Taylor, and Zack are calling for me, so I need to get back, but maybe tell other cats before Sandstorm if that would help."

"And Fireheart?" She pressed her forehead against the flap, giving her brother one last stare. One that he returned with curiosity. "I know you can do it. You've done a lot of hard things so far, and you've overcome them. Give her the love and trust that you know she deserves."

The plastic bent with more force, and the queen returned to the twoleg nest, leaving Firestar alone on the porch.

He stepped to the edge, gazing at the forest where his home lay. His chest hit the wood, and his right paw dangled over the edge, as did his tail.

His eyes closed, pondering what to do with Princess's advice.

Chapter Text

The four oak trees that created this place. A place where the Clans came to unite, to speak with one another in understanding. In peace.

He growled at the mere thought.

Gatherings were held to learn about the other Clans. Improving their knowledge so that one Clan could dismantle the others using their own words. It was about finding weaknesses to exploit, ridding the weak and impure, and leaving only the strong to rule.

That's why he was doing this. Somewhere he could be. Somewhere he needed and deserved to be, a position he was owed. Infuriatingly, his opportunity was robbed by a filthy kittypet of all things.

"Are you going to continue sitting there uselessly?" The matted brown tabby spat, amber eyes taking in his tail lashing, and ears folded back. Only one eye looked back at the tom looming above him, the four grooves of a recently healed wound covering half of the flat face. "Well?"

His neck turned, where Brokenstar's fur bristled, his intentions clear.

"Have you done it?" The large tom growled, shifting a step closer to the former leader. Brokenstar bared his fangs.

"Yes." The word was strained, claws digging into the soil with brutality. "Carrionplace has been poisoned."

He purred, pleased that his plan could now start. "Good."

The single word, spoken so casually, caused Brokenstar to smack the ground, creating a cloud in the tight space. When the dust settled, the half-blind cat was standing tall, nose-to-nose, one orange contesting two amber, a fury and frustration in the eye. Claws clacked together, a mutual hostility exploding in the space.

"How?!" Brokenstar's voice made his ears curl at the shrillness, and the closeness of the chamber left little room for the sound to echo elsewhere. Brokenstar pushed forward, but the other tom gave no ground. "How is killing what little of ShadowClan remains going to return me as leader?!"

"Trust in my plans-"

"No!" He pushed forward, placing his claws against his collaborator's chest. No blood was drawn, but it was obvious what the former leader was going to do. "You've done nothing but insist on trust! Why should I trust a ThunderClan cat like you when you can't even beat a single kittypet-"

Brokenstar yowled as his back was shoved against the wall. He gasped for air, a set of abnormally long claws pushing into his neck. Drops of blood trailed down the fur. Each weak bat at the paw only increased the pressure, a growing fury in the larger tom.

His muzzle rested beside Brokenstar's ear, only the noise of a cat silently pleading for oxygen between them.

"The kittypet won't be a problem." He let the rogue breathe, slamming him back with even more force, causing Brokenstar's eyes to water. "Just do what you're told, or I'll strip the last two lives from you." Pieces from the roof of the chamber started to fall due to the muscle put into the action. "As you are, you couldn't kill a cat that wanted to die."

As the rogue's eye started to close, he was dragged across the space, thrown against the wall to the right. His first action was a deep wheeze; any intimidation Brokenstar planned to use vanished as he inhaled like a newly birthed kit. Almost instinctively, the rogue took a step in reverse, back meeting the wall, as the other tom moved toward him.

"ShadowClan will have a leader." Brokenstar's fervor faded, both toms fully aware of the disadvantage being half-blind and weakened thrust upon him. "But only if you listen to me." The ThunderClan cat stepped closer, the fire in the rogue's eyes extinguishing. "Understand?"

"Y-" Brokenstar choked. The fallen leader clearly hated taking the submissive position, and accepting it only removed what pathetic scraps of dignity he had left. "I-" He growled, refusing to meet eyes with a sharp turn of his head, eye looking at the paws of his aggressor. "Fine."

The slap rang through the room, Brokenstar's muzzle bleeding as the red raced down his lips. The rogue had shivered, nothing short of trembling, as the claws pressed into his chest.

"That's not what I asked." With a jolt, Brokenstar yowled again, and the tom could feel the pierced flesh contract against his claws. The warmth of the blood a welcomed feeling against the outside's nightly wind. "I asked if you understood."

"I- I understand." It was as if he'd been cut by twolegs, any sense of defiance and bravery turned into a pile of cowardice. "I understand. Wh- Whatever you say. I'll do it."

Brokenstar screamed as the claws were yanked from his chest, a splatter of blood mixing with the dirt. The rogue tom fell to the floor, licking his fresh wound with an urgency, trying to stop the leaking crimson with his paws.

"Not so hard, was it?" Brokenstar shook his head, unable to meet the glare laid upon him. "Don't want to end up like your followers, do you?"

"No." The rogue meowed as quickly as he could.

"Short and sweet." The dominant tom licked his lips, as if tasting the submission like a fresh kill. "The kind of obedience I enjoy most."

Then he turned away from Brokenstar, hitting the tom with his tail as he pushed the door of soil open and slid out like an adder.

ShadowClan will have a leader. Make no mistake of that, Brokenstar.