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twilights-800-cats · 4 years

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Chapter 8

“Seems like everything is alright,” Mothwing reported, lifting her paws from Dawnflower’s swollen belly.

The nursery smelled damp after the storm the day before, but that was thankfully the only damage to it. The other dens had been tossed about and the apprentice’s den needed rebuilding entirely, but the nursery had always been built sturdier than the others, to protect the queens and kits within.

“Are you sure?” Dawnflower rasped, her eyes glazed with pain and worry. “Is this pain normal?”

Mothwing nodded. “You’re just about ready to start pushing,” she mewed. She is lucky though, she could’ve been badly hurt in that storm. Mothwing looked to the tortoiseshell queen sitting in the other nest in the nursery. “Mosspelt, I’m going to go fetch Mudfur. Frostsplash will be here any moment.”

Mosspelt nodded, tucking her tail around her paws. Her only kit, Willowkit, watched beside her mother with wide eyes. “I’ll keep an eye on her,” the tortoiseshell queen promised.

Mothwing gave her a grateful nod and slipped out of nursery. Parties of cats dedicated to rebuilding after the storm were still working to finish up repairing the last of the damage. Mothwing dodged around Reedpaw, who was dragging long lengths of reed behind him. The young apprentice gave her an appreciative nod.

I’m glad he’s okay, Mothwing thought, heading for the medicine cat’s den. Reedpaw’s wound was healing well and there was no sign of infection, but Mudfur advised he keep in camp until it closed completely.

Movement at the camp entrance made Mothwing pause – Tawnypelt padded in, followed by Falcontail and Frostsplash. Curiously, Tawnypelt broke away from the patrol and headed straight for Leopardstar, her tail stiff. Mothwing frowned and headed for her brother.

“What’s going on?” she asked. Falcontail’s pale eyes were filled with frustration. Mothwing could see his claws tearing at the earth. Beside him, Frostsplash looked just as upset.

“We caught a WindClan patrol trying to steal prey!” Falcontail hissed.

Mothwing’s eyes went wide, surprised. “What?!”

Frostsplash nodded. “We caught them before they stole anything, but they were two tail-lengths over our border, stalking a squirrel!” he reported. “Tawnypelt let them off with a warning.”

“Just a warning!” Falcontail snorted.

Mothwing frowned. “That’s not like WindClan, not at this time of year,” she noted.

“That’s what we thought, too,” Frostsplash admitted. “But they looked like nothing but skin and bones, and they tried to flee as soon as we caught them…”

“We should’ve pursued them right to their camp!” Falcontail snapped, his shoulder fur bristling. “Theft isn’t something to be treated so lightly!”

Mothwing glanced over to Leopardstar and Tawnypelt, who were talking quite seriously to one another beside Leopardstar’s den. “I think Mother and Tawnypelt will handle this just as seriously as they need to, Falcontail. No need to get upset.”

Falcontail curled his lip, lashing his tail. “You’re not a warrior anymore, Mothwing! Stay out of it!”

Before Mothwing could retort, Falcontail turned away and headed for the fresh-kill pile. Mothwing sighed, hurt piercing her chest. Falcontail valued the warrior code and RiverClan so much… but did he have to be so intense about it all the time? He’s always thought that having Leopardstar as our mother meant he needed to be the best…

Frostsplash watched, too, looking awkward. Mothwing blinked sympathetically at him. “I’m sorry about Falcontail,” she mewed. “He’s not always like that.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” the young warrior insisted. His eyes were shining. “Falcontail is a really great warrior! I’ve always admired his drive.”

Mothwing purred, twitching her whiskers in amusement. Frostsplash’s attitude wasn’t a huge surprise – Falcontail had been his mentor when he joined RiverClan. “Dawnflower is just about ready to kit,” she mentioned, pushing her littermate aside for the moment. “You should get in to see her.”

Frostsplash’s ears pricked. “Already?! Oh, StarClan!”

The white tom shot off towards the nursery, drawing no small amount of attention to himself. Amused purrs went up throughout the entire camp as Mothwing got back to her paws and trotted to the medicine den, pushing her way through the reeds.

Mudfur was already on his paws, thankfully, putting together a packet of herbs. “It’s time?” he guessed.

“Yes,” Mothwing confirmed.

Mudfur nodded, gesturing to the leaf packet he’d made. “Tell me what’s inside,” he asked.

Mothwing gave the packet a sniff and recited, “Raspberry, borage, and thyme – the birthing herbs.”

“Good, good!” Mudfur’s purr was rusty. “Come, then. Let’s go.”

Mothwing picked up the leaf wrap in her jaws and followed Mudfur out of the den. Most of the cats had stopped their daily duties, eagerly watching the nursery. The Clan was always excited to welcome new members, and Mothwing felt a prickle of pressure – this would be her first time helping Mudfur with a kitting, as she’d been forbidden from helping Mosspelt two moons ago, before she’d been made an official medicine cat apprentice.

The damp smell of the nursery was cut by the fresh scent of blood. Mothwing’s whiskers twitched in alarm, but Mudfur didn’t look worried. That must be normal, she thought, glancing at Mosspelt. The older queen, mother of several litters, didn’t look concerned, either.

“Alright,” Mudfur rasped, hunkering down beside Dawnflower. “Let’s see where we are.” The pale queen was stretched out, her sides heaving much more rapidly than they had when Mothwing had checked in on her. Frostsplash was wrapped around his mate, licking her between the ears comfortingly.

Mudfur nudged Mothwing. “Put your paw here,” he instructed, tapping his tail-tip against Dawnflower’s side.

Mothwing, nervous, set down her leaf packet and complied, placing her paw where Mudfur’s tail had indicated.

“What do you feel?” Mudfur asked.

Mothwing tried to put aside the sounds of Dawnflower’s labored breathing and focus. She could feel something squirming in Dawnflower’s belly, just under the skin – it was such a bizarre sensation that she had to resist the urge to pull away. I’m a medicine cat! She assured herself. This is all normal! Still, the kits hadn’t been so active earlier…

“I feel the kits,” Mothwing reported. “I think they’re ready.”

Mudfur placed his paw beside hers, grunting as he nodded. “You’re right,” he confirmed. “Good job, Mothwing.” To Dawnflower, he instructed, “Any moment now the pains will begin to intensify – I know it will hurt, but you’ll need to bear down and push with them. Understand?”

Dawnflower nodded shakily.

“Here,” Mosspelt murmured. The older queen pushed a thick, strong stick to Dawnflower’s muzzle. “Bite down on this – it helps.”

Grateful, Dawnflower grasped the stick in her jaws. Mothwing blinked at Mosspelt, thankful for the older queen’s knowledge. I wish I’d thought of that! She supposed there were just some things only a queen could understand about kitting.

“Mama, will she be okay?” Willowkit asked.

“She will, dear,” Mosspelt assured. “RiverClan has the best medicine cats.”

Mothwing wondered into Mudfur’s ear, “Should Willowkit be seeing this?”

Mudfur chuckled back, “Kits are curious! Let her, if she wants, so long as she’s not underpaw. If this doesn’t bother her, she might make a good medicine cat apprentice someday.”

Indeed, Willowkit did not seem bothered as Dawnflower suddenly groaned, her belly rippling with a contraction. Mothwing put the young kit out of her mind as Mudfur’s instructions came quickly – “Stay by her tail, yes yes… do you see it? Good! Now quickly, nip the sac open and get it breathing! Good job, Dawnflower…”

By the time it was done, Mothwing felt as exhausted as Dawnflower looked – the pale queen had given birth to three healthy kittens, and all were suckling happily at their mother’s belly. Mothwing found it easy to ignore the strange taste in her mouth as she watched how happy Dawnflower and Frostsplash were, looking down at their little ones.

“Look how small that one is,” Frostsplash purred. “Pebblekit?”

“Yes!” Dawnflower breathed. Her eyes were heavy, but she looked so peaceful. “And this one… what do you think of Minnowkit?”

“It’s perfect,” Frostsplash agreed. “Oh, this one… can we name that one Tumblekit? After my friend from before I joined RiverClan?”

Dawnflower nodded in agreement, and the two rubbed their cheeks together. Purring, they looked at Mudfur expectantly. Mothwing glanced at the old medicine cat – He needs to bless them! – only to find that Mudfur was looking at her.

“Go on,” Mudfur urged. “It’s your turn.”

Mothwing felt a prickle of nervousness, but also awe – Mudfur was trusting her, just an apprentice, with such an important task. “Is that really okay?” she asked, her voice light with shock.

Mudfur nodded. “Go on,” he repeated. “You know the words.”

Mothwing swallowed. She did know the words, but it felt like the pressure was making them flee her mind. I can do this, she told herself sternly. Stand up straight, Mothwing – take a deep breath, and…

“… StarClan, we ask that you welcome these three kits to RiverClan,” she meowed, her voice strong. Silence descended upon the nursery as Mothwing spoke, and she could almost feel the pelts of her ancestors brushing against her. “Watch over Minnowkit, Tumblekit, and Pebblekit as they grow, and guide their paws onto the paths of their destiny. May the currents of their lives flow smooth and strong.”

“May the currents of their lives flow smooth and strong,” repeated the cats in the den – even Willowkit, who was watching with awe sparkling in her eyes.

Mothwing swallowed, glancing at Mudfur. The old tom looked so tired… but so proud. He licked Mothwing between her ears. “Good job,” he purred. “Now, let’s give the new family some peace.”

Still mystified, Mothwing followed Mudfur out of the nursery. The entire Clan was watching, waiting for the report – but it was Leopardstar who came forward to ask, “How is she?”

“Good,” Mudfur reported. A breath of relief passed through the Clan. “She has three healthy kits – Tumblekit, Pebblekit, and Minnowkit.”

“Tumblekit, Minnowkit, Pebblekit…” the names were passed through the crowd. The Clan seemed satisfied, and they returned to their duties.

Mothwing pushed her nose into Leopardstar’s fur, purring excitedly. “I blessed them, Mother – all by myself!” She breathed in her mother’s scent, feeling as if she were a kit again herself, with her mother in that nursery.

“That’s wonderful,” Leopardstar purred back, licking Mothwing’s ear. “I’m so proud.”

“They’re healthy and strong,” Mudfur added. “Great additions to RiverClan.”

“We’ll celebrate,” Leopardstar decided, her eyes sparkling. “There’s enough fresh-kill for that. Tawnypelt!” The deputy looked up from where she was in the crowd, her ears pricked. “Divide the fresh-kill pile for a celebration! Dawnflower has given birth, after all!”

“Of course!” Tawnypelt purred, her tail twisting happily. “Right away!”

Mudfur purred, nudging Leopardstar. “Reminds me of when you kitted!” he rasped.

Leopardstar twined her tail with her father’s, leading him away. “Not every medicine cat gets to watch over their own kit while she has kittens…”

Mothwing watched them go fondly, grateful that her family was so close and happy.

“What is she thinking?!” hissed a voice in Mothwing’s ear. As if he were destined to kill Mothwing’s mood, Falcontail sat beside her, his claws digging into the earth. “A celebration? Right now?!”

“Dawnflower just kitted!” Mothwing pointed out. “Isn’t that worth celebrating?”

“Kits are born every day,” Falcontail reasoned. “WindClan is threatening our border! Shouldn’t that be Mother’s concern right now?”

“I’m sure she’s worried,” Mothwing soothed, flicking her tail over her brother’s spine. “If there was something she wanted to do about it, she would.”

Falcontail still looked cross – but he wasn’t glaring at Leopardstar, he was glaring at Tawnypelt. “She must’ve undermined the seriousness of the situation,” he growled under his breath. “She had to have! What kind of deputy is she?!”

“What are you saying?!” Mothwing breathed, eyes widening at her brother. “Tawnypelt is an amazing deputy!”

Falcontail lashed his tail. “A deputy needs to be decisive,” he snorted. “Tawnypelt isn’t. She lets old friendships come before her Clan – that’s not what a deputy should do.”

“In your opinion!” Mothwing wasn’t going to let her brother bring down the celebration. Why can’t he just let it go? “Tawnypelt hasn’t done anything wrong – stop biting her tail!”

Falcontail curled his lip. “You’re not a warrior anymore, Mothwing,” he hissed. “It’s not your business.”

“You’re making it my business, coming up to me to complain about our deputy all the time!” Mothwing huffed, frustration sparking in her pelt. “Why not just be happy for what RiverClan is accomplishing? For what I’ve accomplished? You won’t get any farther than being a warrior by badmouthing your deputy and medicine cats!”

She saw her brother’s claws dig into the earth. His glare was intense, and Mothwing thought he might rebuke her – until Leafwhisker called his name from within the crowd, and Falcontail excused himself to go and eat with his friend.

Mothwing watched him, concern for her brother overtaking pride in her accomplishment today. Her brother had always been intense and ambitious… but he’d never outright insult Tawnypelt! She’d been such a good influence in their lives, in every RiverClan cat’s life.

What was going on with him?

#tb au #tb moonrise

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newprophecy-redux · 6 years

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Chapter II

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The moon hung in the sky, nearly at it’s highest point by the time Stormfur and Feathertail finally emerged from their nests in the warrior den. They could hear Mistfoot, the Riverclan deputy, speaking low, but clearly, organizing the night’s patrols.

It was strange, though she was their mother’s cousin, Mistfoot acted more like an aunt to the brother and sister pair than anything. “Ah, good. You’re awake.” The dark silver-blue molly meowed, beckoning the siblings closer with the crook of her tail.

Feathertail was still leaning heavily on Stormfur’s shoulder, blinking lazily, and biting back a yawn, still struggling to wake up. “Just barely, Mistfoot. Did you need us?” He asked with a small laugh, and she nodded.

“Leopardstar wants us to do a border-check at Sunningrocks and renew our scent marker by the falls.” She explained quickly, but kept her voice down, certainly not wanting to stir up any excitement in the younger warriors and the easily impressionable apprentices.

Feathertail sighed. “Do you think she’ll try to make a move against Firestar for it so soon?” She asked. “Newleaf’s only just begun.” The young she-cat pointed out.

Stormfur was worried about his sister. She didn’t sleep very well at all last night, whimpering and crying in her sleep. It woke him up a few times too, and he tried to soothe her the best he could, but when he asked about it, she couldn’t give him a clear answer about the weird dreams.

So maybe this was what she needs. To get out and stretch her legs, get some fresh air. “I know. But you know how much we all enjoy Sunningrocks...If we can take it for ourselves, and have it for the elders, it could benefit us later on as a possible hunting place as it warms up.” Mistfoot commented on her own, and Stormfur could see where she was coming from.

Besides, even after all of these moons -- There’s always been tension between Riverclan and Thunderclan over that prime basking spot. Even before Oakheart and Redtail...No. Tigerstar…

“Anyway. I’m going to lead one party, with Shadepelt, Primroseheart, and Splashtail.” Mistfoot continued. “Beechfur will lead the other, with you two, and…” The deputy looked around, trying to find any other available cat still around in camp. She’d hate to have to wake anyone else.

They were stretched quite thin over the course of a long, unforgiving leafbare, and knew they all still needed some time to recover.

“I’ll go, Mistfoot.” A new voice sounded, and all three heads swiveled around to see who it was.

“Hawkfrost.” She answered smoothly, carefully, eyeing the unnaturally beautiful tom. His muscles rippled beneath a sleek, perfectly groomed pelt. “Thank you, but weren’t you already a part of the evening patrol earlier?” Mistfoot asked.

“Well, yes. But I really don’t mind. Still a bit too exhausted to try and sleep yet, you know? Antsy paws.” He replied, sitting down among them, angling his ears in greeting to Stormfur and Feathertail.

His sister smiled brightly, as usual, trilling her own hello’s, and Stormfur grunted softly, dipping his head.

“...Alright. And I want to send out a hunting party, too. Reedwhisker and Blackclaw, and I think I want Mosspelt to round it out. With their apprentices, that should be more than enough.” Mistfoot finished, pleased with her own choices. “Can you two go and ask your mother about that? I’m going to gather the rest of my group.”

Feathertail nodded. “Okay Mistfoot, we will. Good luck!” She said, and Mistfoot stood with a small smile, shaking herself out, before disappearing behind a patch of dense underbrush.

“That just leaves me, then. I’ll wait for you at the entrance.” Hawkfrost said, turning on his own heels, and vanishing with a whisk of his elegant, plumed tail.

Stormfur could still feel his unnaturally icy blue eyes watching them, even as Feathertail nudged his shoulder, guiding him along to go and seek out Mosspelt.

“I never know how I feel about him.” He muttered, glancing back over his shoulder more than once as they went.

“Oh, come now. He’s a good, loyal warrior. We’re lucky to have him, whether we know where his sire comes from or not.” His sister was much less offput by strangers than him, always friendly and welcoming, and always willing to give the benefit of the doubt. He only hoped that it wouldn’t leave her scorned and jaded one day.

“What about Mothwing?” Hawkfrost’s sister, and Mudfur’s apprentice had started out training as a warrior along with her brother, much like Stormfur and Feathertail, but eventually, she had found her calling elsewhere, when Leopardstar had encouraged her father to find an apprentice to start training for his retirement. Just like him in his younger days, so long ago.

The elder tom certainly wasn’t getting any younger, so it was a blessing from Starclan themselves when he had received a sign in the form of, wouldn’t you know it? A moth’s wing, just outside his den. It didn’t get much clearer than that, and she moved into the medicine cat’s den within the next few days.

“What about Mothwing?” Stormfur echoed Feathertail, tilting his head in some small confusion as to what she was getting at.

“I mean, you weren’t nearly this…” Her whiskers twitched, searching for the right word. “Not mistrusting, but. You know what I mean.” She decided. “When she was helping Mudfur patch you up after that scuffle with Duspelt and Thornclaw last moon.” She teased, brushing her tail over the newest scar on one of his forelegs.

“Thunderclan’s tough, I don’t care what anyone else says.” He snorted, shaking his head. “I’m just glad Father wasn’t there.” Stormfur said, some small curiosity lingering there as to whether or not Graystripe’s good friend would tell him he’d fought his son in a border skirmish.

Feathertail grew silent, something more there behind her clear blue eyes whenever either one of them brought up their parents. Either of them.

“Besides, why are you defending him, anyway? Do you fancy Hawkfrost?” Now that...That was a jarring thought that all but made his pelt crawl. The thought of Feathertail falling in love...Taking a mate...Having kits.

He’d heard stories of their grandmother, Willowbreeze. How she’d succumbed to illness so soon after her own kitting. And then, of course, their birth-mother Silverstream.

There was an unsettling, horrifying pattern here. And as they say, ‘it comes in three’s’.

Who’s to say that he wouldn’t one day lose his own beloved sister, if she tried to start a family of her own?

He couldn’t bear it. But, it wasn’t as if he could ever...Would ever try to stop her, either.

Ultimately, he wanted nothing for her but happiness. No matter what it meant for his own sake.

But as ever, like some sort of link between them, Feathertail could sense when his thoughts were darkest, giving a bright, cheerful laugh to bring him back. “What, do you?” She teased in turn, just the same, leaving him flabbergasted as usual with her antics.

“Wh-What? Where’d you ever get an idea like that?!” Stormfur shook his head vehemently, giving her a rough, but playful shove of the shoulder. “I’m just saying.” Suddenly feeling hot under his fur, he cut his eyes away to look elsewhere.

“And I’m just saying he’s not so different than us. Both of them. Mistfoot and Stonefur trained us to be loyal to Riverclan, as did Hawkfrost and Mothwing’s mentors. I don’t doubt that they wouldn’t give everything for us.” Feathertail rationalized calmly, and somehow, he couldn’t come up with another sharp retort this time.

He could hear his former mentor’s voice in his ears now, chiding him for being so quick to judge another with no reason for it. After all, they’d been born half-clan as well, whether they knew it from the beginning or not.

Once more, yet again he realized just how strangely similar the circumstances were, the string of events that happened in these particular clanmates’ lives that brought them all together.

It wasn’t Hawkfrost’s fault. Perhaps he should try to be more open. Try to be more like Feathertail and give him the benefit of the doubt. “Alright, alright. I suppose it’s a good thing he’s coming with us. He’s a good hunter.”

“See? There you go!” Feathertail purred happily, nosing the tip of his ear. “But we should really hurry, we don’t want to keep him waiting.” She said, and he sighed heavily in response, the two of them hurrying along to find Mosspelt, who was nosing at a piece of fresh kill from the pile.

“Mosspelt.” Stormfur called, and the tortoiseshell female immediately lifted her head, a mother’s sheer instinct to look around and find whenever she heard one of her kits call. Though she didn’t kit them, she nursed them and loved them as her own alongside her only son, Beechfur.

“There you two are! I was wondering where you wandered off to when I didn’t find either of you in your nests.” She smiled, having to stretch up on her toes to meet Stormfur to touch noses with him, and then give Feathertail a lick between the ears.

“Sorry, Mistfoot wanted to talk to us.” Her adopted daughter explained, and the older molly’s brows raised in surprise.

“Ah, I see. Well, nothing bad, I hope?” When they both shook their heads, she nodded, once more turning around to nose at the few fish and water vole carcassses upon the pile. “A bit small. I was going to pick something out and take it to Dawnflower. She had some trouble kitting, so Mudfur wants to make sure she keeps up her strength.

Stormfur shuffled his paws. “Everyone’s alright, though?” He asked.

Mosspelt nodded for herself, giving a smile. “She’s strong, the kits are healthy. Leopardstar is pleased with them.”

“Maybe we can go see them tomorrow, after she has some more time to rest.” Feathertail commented, and Stormfur shrugged. “Oh, speaking of. Mistfoot wants you to join Blackclaw and Reedwhisker on a hunting party. She’s going to take a patrol to the falls, and Feathertail and I are going to be part of a second group to go and check our side of Sunningrocks.”

It was evident that Mosspelt had much of the same trail of thought that Stormfur did earlier, about Leopardstar possibly going to try and make a move against Thunderclan sooner rather than later, but only time would tell.

“But she didn’t want to go with her son? That’s odd.” Mosspelt voiced instead, and Feathertail’s visage turned solemn.

“She’s going to be with Primroseheart this time instead. I guess after Perchkit passed away, and then Pikepaw joined Starclan way too soon afterwards...She and Blackclaw still might not be on good terms.” But it was evident that the deputy was still trying to keep some small sense of unity for her little family, heartbreaking as the last year had been for all of them.

Terrible disease, and a brutal winter both were heartless killers of the unfortunate young and old alike.

“I see. Well, if you see her before you go, let her know that I’ll be glad to join them. I’ll go and see if I can’t catch up with them now.” Mosspelt gave a smile nonetheless. “Is Beechfur going too?” She couldn’t help but ask about her third kit.

Stormfur nodded. “Yes, he’s actually going to be part of our patrol.” He answered, and there was no masking the flash of pride on the she-cat’s face at the thought of all of them together again. It didn’t happen very often now that they were warriors. “Good! I’m sure he’ll be glad. Good luck, and be safe out there.” She warned goodnaturedly.

“Of course. You too. We’ll see you when you get back.” Feathertail promised, and once more, the small group of cats broke away, the two of them heading for the thick patch of reeds that marked the entrance of the camp.

Hawkfrost was already waiting for them there, as he said, Beechfur crouched there with him, down at his side. Sitting up when the pair of siblings came closer, he gave a languid stretch. “Alright, that’s all of us then. C’mon.”

At first, it was an odd sort of setup. Feathertail was walking shoulder to shoulder with Beechfur taking up the point, talking happily and excitedly with their other brother, with Stormfur just behind them for the time being, and Hawkfrost taking up the rear.

That wasn’t unsettling at all.

“...You look like you’ve got a burr in your tail.” Hawkfrost suddenly rumbled quietly behind him, nearly making him jump. Forcing the fur along his shoulders to lie flat, he gave an awkward sort of laugh.

But the other tom didn’t react, blinking at him with brows raised. “Ah...Sorry. Guess I’m a bit anxious myself.” Stormfur cleared his throat, and Hawkfrost twitched his whiskers, something like a smile, pushing ahead to walk in step with him at the moment.

“What, afraid Shadowclan is going to come creeping up and attack unexpectedly?” He asked, and Stormfur was left almost reeling. Was...Was he trying to make a joke?

“Uh...Ah, hah. N-No, of course not. They might like dark, but we’d smell them coming from fox-lengths away.” Stormfur replied, trying to mimic the same cool, aloof atmosphere that Hawkfrost seemed to radiate so effortlessly.

Really, he and Mothwing were only a few moons younger than him and Feathertail, so why was he getting him in such a tizzy?! Honestly!!

“Mm, yes. We would.” Hawkfrost agreed simply, though his tail did lash once with some emotion that Stormfur couldn’t quite place, pushing ahead yet again to come up on Beechfur’s other side, muttering something in his ear that Stormfur couldn’t hear from this distance.

Conversation over, now it was Feathertail’s turn to fall back and join him, at her usual place at his side. “Well?” She asked.

“Well what?” Stormfur muttered, pinning his ears slightly, trudging along.

“...Nothing, nevermind.” She smiled gently, keeping him company by making idle chat about nothing in particular. Sunningrocks wasn’t too far, and it didn’t take them long to get there, stopping up on something like a gentle rise, a hill that overlooked the area where the mighty stones sat cooling in the night on Thunderclans’ side of the border.

Stormfur’s nose wrinkled at the multiple different scents of the other clan cats. Firestar obviously wasn’t shirking on keeping it marked, boasting his clan’s pride about currently owning the prime spot.

Beechfur hissed slightly, but there was no use getting so worked up over it now. They couldn’t do anything unless Leopardstar gave the say-so, or if any Thunderclan cats stepped out of line. And if there was anything Firestar could do, it was keeping his own clan in line, at least.

Hawkfrost worked his claws in the earth slightly, pulling up grass and dirt. “We’ll have it back soon enough.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.” Beechfur responded, the two toms saying nothing more, just staring out silently into the darkness, before they broke off into pairs, working their way down to their faint borderline. Smelled like it was a good idea for them to go ahead and come out this way.

No reason to give Thunderclan a reason to think they were weak and couldn’t even defend their own scentmarkers.

He and Feathertail brushed up against a few patches of grass here and there together, scenting along some rocks, and other things of the like, moving on down the invisible trail. “I wonder how Graystripe is? I hope we get to see him at the next gathering.”

“Me too.” Stormfur hummed. They’ve always had a good relationship with their rival clan’s deputy, and thankfully, after everything they’ve been through, Leopardstar never again held it against them to see him and talk to him during the night of peace.

Everything’s different now, and so far, it’s seemed to have changed for the better for the whole forest.

“Feathertail! Come here.” That was Hawkfrost, his voice calling from further down the way, and the siblings looked at eachother, before rushing along to meet up with him and Beechfur to see what’s wrong.

But they didn’t even have to ask. The wind shifted just slightly, carrying a strong, acrid stench across to them from within Thunderclan territory.

“Do you smell that?” Beechfur growled, and even Hawkfrost, normally so calm and collected for a cat so young, was bristling, eyes like hard chips of ice.

“A badger?” Feathertail was horrified, and Stormfur felt his tail bristle in aprehension. The scent wasn’t strong. A few hours old, at least, but there was obviously an altercation at some point earlier. Some stale cat-scent mixed along with it, but no overwhelming metallic tang of blood, at least.

Whichever Thunderclan cats came across the horrifying black and white beast must have managed to chase it off. But which way did it go from there?

The thought briefly occured to Stormfur to suggest if they should try to track it. Corner it, and try to fend it off for themselves. Make sure that it was gone for good, but. Even with four strong, quick, capable warriors, there was no guarantee. In the end, it could be a suicide mission.

He and Feathertail remembered when Firestar reported that Willowpelt, one of Thunderclan’s senior warriors, had been killed by a badger last leafbare...Unknown to them, their own grandmother. She was a good cat, and all four clans mourned her death, especially her three kits, Sorreltail, Rainwhisker and Sootfur. Could it be the same one?

Hawkfrost spat, shaking his head. “We need to tell Leopardstar and Mistfoot about this.” They needed to warn the clan, and make sure the apprentices and the queens were aware of the danger. For once, Stormfur completely agreed with him.

Beechfur nodded. “I don’t think it crossed this way, at least. They’re good diggers, but not great climbers. Hopefully it just moved on, but…” Brows knit, his whole body was still tense. “We should get back. I think we all know what’s going to happen next.”

With a tick of his tail, the quartet of Riverclan cats turned round and trotted swiftly back to camp, long tails streaming behind them. They didn’t want to rush and cause a premature panic until they did some more investigating in the daylight, but there was no time to waste.

So much for the forest being a safer place with Bloodclan gone!

#warriors #new prophecy redux #firestar #brambleclaw #feathertail #stormfur #warrior cats #warrior cats rewrite #warriors rewrite #chapter two #here it is finally!! in riverclan now and then we're heading over to see what's going on in windclan #hawkfrost

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