twilights-800-cats

[twilights-800-cats]

I love warrior cats so much bec they are silly little kitty cats. Despite everything, despite all the horrors, they fucking look like this -

[twilights-800-cats]

<< Chapter 19 || Chapter 20 || Chapter 21 || From the Beginning || Patreon & Ko-Fi >>

Chapter 20 

Shadepool fumbled in the darkness, uncertain of where she was - she guessed that this was someplace between dream and reality, like where she had floated just before entering StarClan's hunting grounds. She wished that Yellowfang's tongue had just sent her into the waking world instead, but perhaps her own troubled thoughts were miring her here. 

As if in reflection of that, Shadepool saw shapes form in the darkness. It took her a moment to recognize what they were - the thick, winding branches of a bush, thick as sycamores, all tangled in on themselves to form an impassable wall that Shadepool couldn't even see through. Impossibly huge thorns bristled from the surface, keeping her from drawing too close to investigate. 

Shadepool shivered. There was something so familiar about this structure. Was this the barrier she had erected between herself and Nightfrost? Or, more importantly, was this the barrier that Nightfrost was maintaining now? 

Her claws flexed. She wanted to rip it all down but knew that she would tear herself to pieces trying. 

Onewhisker is gone, and so is Barkface, now, too, she thought miserably, staring at the thorny wall. There's no way to learn the truth of what happened. StarClan doesn't have any answers, and they might not even be able to help. What are we supposed to do? 

It's all been for nothing! 

Not long ago, she would've been able to lean on her brother and share her misery with him to keep her head clear enough to think - now, though, it was all hers and hers alone. It was so heavy and suffocating, and Shadepool felt like she was drowning. 

“You'd be shocked just how much of it all was you, Shade,” he'd said. 

He's right, she thought, crouching low. She shut her eyes tight. I... I've never been able to handle anything without him. 

I put too much on him; now he's gone, and I don't know what to do anymore. 

She tried to will herself to wake up. Was this StarClan's doing, keeping her here? Perhaps it was the shadow-cats trying to steal her spirit as they had with Onewhisker and Barkface. Shadepool shivered, feeling cold. 

Did StarClan know what darkness lay here beside the lake? If they had, why did they send the Clans here? 

Shadepool opened her eyes and saw a pair of white paws. The white cat stood before her, their pelt so blindingly bright that it seemed to absorb the darkness, creating a strange glow around their body. It wasn't starlight, like StarClan spirits, but it reminded Shadepool of the Moonstone, back in the old forest. 

“It's you,” she said, too upset to be as incredulous as the last time she had seen the creature. Shadepool lifted her muzzle, looking at the white cat in the starry pits they had for eyes, trying not to get lost in their depths. “What do you want?” 

The white cat, as always, said nothing. 

Shadepool frowned. “Whatever,” she sighed, exhausted. “Just stand there and stare. I still don't know what you're supposed to be, but whatever you are, I guess it's not helpful.” 

“Wait for me!” 

Shadepool's ears twitched. The high-pitched voice did not belong to the white cat, but it was familiar. 

That sounds like... 

A small hole opened in the thorn wall, just large enough for two kittens to stumble through before it closed up tight. The kitten in the lead, a she-kit with a tortoiseshell pelt, was far ahead of her littermate, a little black tom who was fumbling behind her on stumpy little legs. 

Shadepool's eyes widened at the sight. 

“Come on! Keep up!” the little tortoiseshell mewled. 

The stumpy tom was trying his best. He protested, “I'm too short! It's not fair!” 

Shadepool watched as the little she-kit stopped and turned, looking back at her littermate with shining eyes. She waited for the smaller tom to catch up, the two touching noses and purring as they walked off as one, pelts brushing. 

That's... us. 

Shadepool glanced back at the white cat, confused. They seemed unaffected by the kittens, who had faded into the darkness. 

“I'm not sure I understand,” Shadepool admitted. “Nightfrost and I were always close, but now there's this between us.” She gestured at the thorn barrier with her tail. “What does this even have to do with what happened to Onewhisker and Barkface, anyway? What's going on?” 

The white cat said nothing. 

Shadepool hissed through her teeth. Not sure what I expected from you there. The vision likely had nothing to do with the white cat at all if this was Shadepool's own mind. Thinking about how things used to be with Nightfrost must have summoned a vision of a happier time, simple as that. 

Winding her tail around her paws, she asked, “Is there anything you can do to help me? Anything at all?” 

The white cat swished their tail and burst into hundreds of blinding white moths. 

Shadepool jerked back, shocked at the suddenness of it all - the entire dream world was filled with the moths like stars in the night sky, illuminating the thorny cocoon of Shadepool's mind. It was as beautiful as it was haunting, and Shadepool struggled to comprehend it, jaws agape at the sight. 

One of the moths fluttered towards her, landing on her nose and flapping its blinding white wings. Shadepool kept herself still, uncertain what to do - she tried not to blink, but the moth was too bright to look at, and she had to shut her eyes. 

When she dared to open them, she was lying on her side by the Moonpool. 

Her entire body ached, and she struggled to move as if the black sands beneath her wanted to swallow her whole. Her eyes worked just fine, however, and she found herself staring at the waters of the Moonpool, the surface lit blinding white by the light of the full moon. 

She had slept for a whole day. 

Shadepool immediately sat up, ignoring the protestations of her body. Her heart thudded in her ears like a thunderstorm - a whole day? Brackenfur would be furious! How could she ever justify it to him? Moreover, what was Tinystar thinking at this moment? 

Great StarClan above; they're going to split my pelt between them! 

A commotion at the top of the hollow made Shadepool turn her muzzle to the scraggly hawthorn. Her heartbeat accelerated, blood roaring in her ears - was this Onewhisker and Barkface's attacker? A wild animal? She had been a fool to come to the Moonpool alone! 

But the muzzle that pushed through the dry brush was familiar and golden-brown colored, touched with white and gray: Brackenfur. 

For a moment, Shadepool and her mentor stared at one another, one at the top of the hollow, his thin shoulders lit by moonlight, the other at the bottom, half-covered in black sand, eyes wild with sleep and fear. 

Shadepool tried to guess what Brackenfur was thinking, but his expression gave nothing away. Her stomach curdled with disappointment in herself - Brackenfur was definitely going to yell at her for this, especially since he had come all this way to get her himself. 

He didn't have to say anything. Shadepool got to her paws and climbed up the narrow path to meet him, ignoring the sleep dragging at her muscles. Her shoulders felt heavy and her belly sick, and resignedly, she decided that Brackenfur could be as angry at her as he liked: She deserved it. She had disobeyed him again, and again, it had been for nothing. 

Brackenfur slid to the side to let Shadepool pass. She heard him sigh softly, his breath stirring the fur on her flank. 

“There you are!” Sorreltail's voice surprised Shadepool. The tortoiseshell she-cat was sitting with Sun and Cloudtail, the three she-cats pacing a stony patch just outside the hawthorn. Sorreltail was staring at Shadepool, ears pricked. 

Shadepool blinked. She supposed it would be foolish if Brackenfur had come here alone, and Cloudtail was the best tracker in ThunderClan. Sorreltail and Sun's presence, though, was far more comforting despite how wretched she felt. 

“We were looking everywhere for you,” Sun fretted. She glanced at Cloudtail. “Thankfully, Cloudtail caught your scent before-” 

“We should head back,” Cloudtail meowed sharply, cutting Sun off. She yawned, pausing to stretch, curling her white tail over her back. “Lots to do, and all that...” 

Cloudtail began heading down the slope. Sorreltail and Sun glanced at one another, then at Shadepool, who could only hang her head in shame. 

“I'm sorry,” she murmured. “I didn't mean to worry anyone.” 

“It's okay,” Sorreltail told her, though Shadepool heard some hesitancy there. “It was medicine cat business.” 

Sun nodded her head in agreement. “Tinystar was quite worried, though.” 

Worried is a word for it, I'm sure, Shadepool thought. She looked over her shoulder at Brackenfur, wondering if he had anything to say now that they were out of the Moonpool's hollow. 

He limped past her, heading after Cloudtail. Not yet, it seemed. Shadepool sighed and trotted after them. Sorreltail and Sun flanked her. 

The walk back to camp was quiet and slow to account for Brackenfur's leg. Shadepool felt the silence ringing in her ears, rattling her mind. She wanted to at least talk to Sorreltail, but it seemed like the tortoiseshell she-cat was focusing intensely on the path in front of her - she looked tired, and Shadepool saw that she stumbled over more than one root twisting out of the earth. 

Shadepool's pelt prickled. They were all tired because of her. She fought to keep her tail from dragging in the icy leaf litter. Nightfrost was right - she always dragged everyone else into her problems. 

The moon was setting as they approached the thorn tunnel. At a signal from Brackenfur's tail, the warriors all filed in, leaving him and Shadepool alone outside the camp. Shadepool did not miss the sympathetic look that Sorreltail flashed her before she disappeared through the entrance. 

“Come,” Brackenfur rasped. 

Shadepool, confused, followed Brackenfur as he limped away from camp and down towards the lake. They took their time, walking in the quiet gray predawn, a warmish breeze rattling the leafless trees above as the stars of Silverpelt began to disappear. 

ThunderClan territory did not have the prettiest shoreline with the lake - no grass giving way to soft, pale sand like in WindClan; rather, it was a sudden transition between a grassy slope and a line of wet pebbles, worn smooth by the lapping waves of the lake. A wooden half-bridge was stuck out close to ShadowClan territory, slick with frost and bare of any activity for seasons. It was pretty enough but not ideal for patrolling or hunting. 

Brackenfur settled down at the edge of the pebbly shore with a sigh, taking a moment to bend down and lap at his twisted leg, which looked sore and swollen. 

Shadepool sat beside him, wrapping her tail tightly around her paws. Guilt bit at her pelt like ants, and the anticipation of what was surely coming next made her fidget. 

“You're lucky that Mothwing told me that you had left the Gathering early,” Brackenfur rumbled, lifting his muzzle from his leg. “When Tinystar saw that you hadn't returned with us, he almost jumped to accuse WindClan of taking you hostage. I was able to stop him from sending a battle party right into their camp - he was preparing for it when Cloudtail caught your scent trail in our territory.” 

Shadepool's ears burned. Had she really almost caused a battle between ThunderClan and WindClan? 

“I... I didn't tell Mothwing where I went,” Shadepool mumbled, shuffling her paws. “How did you know...?” 

“I'm not daft!” Brackenfur scoffed. The fur along his neck lifted slightly. “Considering the timing, I assumed you went to the Moonpool to look for Barkface's spirit, despite me not wanting you to. Cloudtail finding your scent on the trail to the uplands confirmed it.” He took a deep breath and exhaled through his teeth in a stressed hiss. “What did you find?” 

Shadepool dug her claws into the earth. The sound of lapping waves filled her mind, but they did not ease her. When she spoke, it was as if she were choking on a frozen mouse: “Barkface isn't there, either. He was taken, like Onewhisker.” 

Brackenfur closed his eyes. He shuddered from ears to tail. “I had hoped...” he breathed, “but...” 

He seemed at a loss. Shadepool did not blame him. She wished that she had better news. She wished that it hadn't been for nothing again. 

“Did StarClan have any more information?” Brackenfur asked. 

Shadepool shook her head. “Nothing helpful. Yellowfang says they're just as confused about it as we are.” Shadepool hunched her shoulders, shivering. “She thinks the shadow-cats I saw at the ambush site might be responsible for it.” 

Brackenfur frowned at that. 

“Also...” Shadepool hesitated to talk about it, but she supposed she might as well while Brackenfur wasn't yelling at her: “Spottedleaf was acting so strange - she kept ranting about some Omen she'd seen, and she wasn't herself at all. It's like she was obsessed with it. She wouldn't hear a word I said to her!” 

“An Omen?” Brackenfur repeated. 

Shadepool frowned at him. He didn't sound the least bit surprised, and his expression hadn't changed a whisker. That was very unlike him. 

“You knew about that already,” she guessed. 

Brackenfur nodded. 

“And you didn't tell me?!” Shadepool hissed. The fur along her spine rose indignantly. “Why not?!” 

Brackenfur sighed. The morning breeze stirred his pelt. “I did not tell you because StarClan knows as little about it as I do,” he answered frankly. He stared out over the water. “If it has consumed Spottedleaf, though, it is surely dangerous.” 

Shadepool huffed. “So nobody knows anything about anything,” she concluded, frustration prickling in her pelt. The grinding of the stones beneath her paws reflected how she felt right now. “We're all just fumbling in the dark - even StarClan.” She sighed. “Aren't they supposed to know everything?” 

Brackenfur twitched his whiskers. “I once thought so when I was younger,” he admitted. “But, perhaps there are things even StarClan cannot comprehend. It seems we have stumbled into some darkness beneath the lake, and we must figure it out together if we are all to survive. Perhaps that is why the Clans were brought here.” 

But why is it our responsibility? Shadepool wondered. Why us? 

He glanced at her as if he could read her thoughts, and he looked older than his seasons and tired enough that a moon's worth of sleep would not heal him. She understood then that he had been changed by his knowledge of the Omen - though not in the same way that Spottedleaf was. That weight had been crushing him for who knew how long. 

Now, the burden was shared. 

Shadepool touched her nose to his shoulder. “What do we do?” she asked. 

“I do not know,” Brackenfur said. “We must trust that when StarClan finds an answer, they will tell us. For now, we can only guide our Clanmates through the fog of the unknown.” 

Though he was just as clueless and uncertain as she was, Shadepool felt comforted by Brackenfur's presence, the idea that she didn't have to be alone with this. Perhaps he felt the same. She felt his chin rest on her forehead, his breath tickling her ear. 

The closeness was bittersweet, however. If Brackenfur knew that she had love in her heart for Crowflight, this would all evaporate like mist in the sunshine. There was no way he would ever understand, no way that he would ever be able to trust her again. 

“What will you tell Tinystar?” she asked, pulling her muzzle away. She couldn't even fathom how angry her father was with her. 

“Medicine cat business is, in the end, medicine cat business,” Brackenfur rasped. His yellow eyes flashed in the orange light of dawn. “Even Tinystar must accept that that is all he needs to know.” 

Shadepool's tail twisted with discomfort. “We're not going to tell him about Onewhisker and Barkface, or the Omen?” 

“Not yet,” Brackenfur told her. “I'm not sure what good it will do right now. Tinystar is already fighting a war on two fronts - the last thing he needs right now is more to worry him. For now, this is a medicine cat problem.” 

“Is that the best idea?” Shadepool ventured. She had told Crowflight about Onewhisker already, and she dreaded the idea of telling him that Barkface had suffered the same fate. 

“I do not know,” Brackenfur said again. His muzzle pressed thin. “I imagine that all of this - the WindClan situation, the disappearing spirits, the Omen - is connected somehow. Until we have more information, though, we risk speculating wildly, and the more that know, the more likely panic will arise.” 

Shadepool didn't like it, but she nodded in agreement. The last thing they needed right now was more cats becoming as deranged as Spottedleaf. Perhaps I ought to keep this close, then. Only for now. 

She really didn't like the idea of keeping a secret from Crowflight, and she wasn't sure she could, really - but she also didn't want him to spiral from the knowledge and the hopelessness that it brought. He had reeled from learning about Onewhisker, after all. She wondered if Nightfrost might listen, but the tightness of the thorns came to mind, and she pushed it aside. 

“We should return to the Clan,” Brackenfur meowed. “They will be missing us.” 

Shadepool nodded in agreement. She got up and stretched, her paws scattering a few pebbles down into the lake's cold, gray water. Above her head honked a group of geese as they flew in formation, their bodies black against the rising sun. 

Geese? she thought, glancing at Brackenfur, who seemed just as surprised to see them. Does that mean...? 

“Newleaf,” Brackenfur sighed, his eyes sparkling. “Finally, some good news: newleaf is finally here!” 

#tb au #tb twilight

[twilights-800-cats]

Tried to recreate one of my old digital paintings in oils

[twilights-800-cats]

tigerstars death (2023)

woodcut

94 × 66 cm / 37 × 26"

school project from last may:) based on drawing from 2017

[twilights-800-cats]

Update: laptop is coming tomorrow, so I probably won't be able to update tomorrow due to setting it up!

So! My PC decided to die this morning!

We're hoping it's just the power supply, but that puts a wrench in some things for a minute. We're going to get a laptop asap, but it might take me a while to get it sorted, and I may not be able to post tomorrow.

If my entire PC has decided to blow out, that's a whole other problem! Yeehaw!

[twilights-800-cats]

So! My PC decided to die this morning!

We're hoping it's just the power supply, but that puts a wrench in some things for a minute. We're going to get a laptop asap, but it might take me a while to get it sorted, and I may not be able to post tomorrow.

If my entire PC has decided to blow out, that's a whole other problem! Yeehaw!

[twilights-800-cats]

Totality

[twilights-800-cats]

man they really did just introduce the fox traps and do away with them all in the span of one book didn't they

[twilights-800-cats]

Twilight is heading towards its conclusion for Patrons, so here's a reminder that it's only $1 a month to read ahead over on Patreon!

And, for those of you who are wondering, the TB AU will resume on Ao3 once it's done posting over on Patreon!

[twilights-800-cats]

... are there any characters that I haven't drawn yet in Wind? I'm looking through the Wiki rn and I don't see any that jump out to me.

Maybe I ought to wait till Star lol

[twilights-800-cats]

<< Chapter 18 || Chapter 19 || Chapter 20 || From the Beginning || Patreon & Ko-Fi >>

Chapter 19 

Shadepool ran as fast as she could, splashing through the marshy shoreline of RiverClan and ShadowClan territory, leaping the stream that split ShadowClan from ThunderClan, and careening along the treeline of her own land, the wind howling in her ears. She might've taken the route through the moorland, which would've been faster, but the fight at the Gathering was already so much - WindClan didn't need any more provocation. She had enough sense to keep her scent off their land. 

By the time she hit the Divide, her paws were on fire, and the sky was bright with the sunrise. There was absolutely no way she could stop, though - if she even so much as tried to catch her breath, she knew she would collapse. It felt like her paws had wings, and she flew upstream, fueled by desperation and determination. 

Barkface was dead, and she had to find him. 

As she left ThunderClan territory and entered the uplands, her strength began to flag, and she felt faint. Would StarClan even speak to her in daylight? It didn't matter - she would lay by the Moonpool until she reached someone, anyone, even if it took a moon's worth of nights. 

Shadepool tore through the hawthorn and stumbled ungracefully down the ridge, her sweaty paws slipping against the ancient pawprints embedded in the stone. She finally stopped at the shore of the Moonpool - in the daylight, she finally noticed that the sand here was black, the complete opposite of the pale cream color by the lakeshore. 

Her limbs trembled, unable to support her. Her head throbbed, and her mind blanked, bees buzzing high-pitched deep in her ear fur. Dizzy from the exertion, she found it impossible to catch her breath, and she fell onto her side, the black sands below her softening the blow. Her nose splashed into the Moonpool, and all went dark. 

———————————————————

She was in a world devoid of scent and sound and sight, sinking as if she had fallen into the lake. She could breathe, but moving her limbs felt like too much work - even blinking hurt, though staring into the black void made her eyes ache and feel heavy. 

Shadepool wondered where she was. She was aware enough to know that she was dreaming but not yet able to awaken. Was this what happened when one visited StarClan in the daylight? Or had they finally decided not to see her because she had broken a fundamental rule of the medicine cats? 

Was she dead? 

No, Shadepool thought. Not dead. Just tired. So very tired... 

She closed her eyes. 

———————————————————

When Shadepool opened her eyes, she guessed she was in StarClan. 

It was not any place she had ever seen before - she was at the bottom of a massive hollow, as if some great creature had scooped out the earth with its paw long ago and never bothered to put it back. It reminded her of the ThunderClan camp, but the walls here were more naturally sloped and covered in greenery, rather than the tall, straight-cut stone she had come to call home. 

Water lapped at her pelt. Shadepool craned her neck around and saw that she was lying at the shore of a massive pool of water which lay settled at the bottom of the scoop. Its surface reflected the cosmic swirl above, stars so close that Shadepool could taste them if she stuck out her tongue. 

Her pelt prickled. I made it! 

Shadepool got to her paws. She opened her jaws to taste the air but got little more than the usual soft, greenleaf scents of StarClan - there was no one in sight, either. 

Tail twisting, Shadepool wondered where Barkface might be. StarClan's hunting grounds might as well be infinite, for all she knew, and there were no borders here - he could be anywhere, and she didn't have an eternity to try and find him. 

What do I do? she wondered. Normally, by now, some StarClan spirit would have sought her out. It felt eerie to be here all alone. 

Just as she was about to give up hope, the dense foliage at the top of the hollow rustled. Out from a massive clump of ferns stepped a delicate tortoiseshell she-cat, her amber eyes sharp and bright. Shadepool recognized her instantly - Spottedleaf! 

Shadepool's heart leaped. Spottedleaf was here! That eased some of her nerves - she hadn't wanted to wander the stars, interrogating cats she had never met nor heard of before. She wouldn't have to fumble to find Barkface's whereabouts, not with Spottedleaf here. 

Spottedleaf padded her way down the slope, her gaze focused and intent like a hunter fixed on prey. Shadepool was sure the ThunderClan medicine cat would've noticed her by now, but strangely, Spottedleaf was moving as if no one else was there at all. Shadepool's hope turned to worry. 

Spottedleaf paused at the pool's edge, a few tail-lengths away from Shadepool. Still, nothing. Not even a twitch of an ear to acknowledge that Shadepool was there. 

“Spottedleaf?” Shadepool decided to try speaking. Perhaps she was just too focused? 

Spottedleaf did not answer. The tortoiseshell took a deep breath, then looked up at the stars, her eyes wide and unblinking. 

Shadepool's pelt rippled uncomfortably. Spottedleaf had never ignored her like this. She looked down at her own paws and tested them against the ground, pressing hard. She felt solid and real, and she could feel the world around her - so why was Spottedleaf acting like she wasn't there? 

“Spottedleaf, it's me, Shadepool,” she tried again, firming her voice, speaking a little louder. She drew a step closer. “Are you okay?” 

Spottedleaf said nothing. She stared up at the sky, eyes open like an owl's. 

Shadepool drew closer. Was she having a vision? Was Shadepool intruding on a StarClan cat receiving a prophecy? 

Now she was a whiskerlength away, able to count the hairs on Spottedleaf's pelt, smell her cloyingly sweet scent, and see the stars spangling her body. The way she sat, so still, unmoving, made her seem like a cat made of stone. Her body wasn't even twitching to breathe. 

Shadepool was thoroughly creeped out. “S-Stop it, Spottedleaf,” she mumbled. “Please...” 

She reached out and touched Spottedleaf's shoulder with her paw. 

Spottedleaf jerked, screeching as if she had been struck by a devastating blow. She twisted away, claws unsheathed, sides heaving with adrenaline. Her eyes were lit with aggression and fury as they bored into Shadepool as if she were a badger swallowing a litter of kits in her sight. 

Shadepool stared at her, shocked, numbed by the spirit's sudden intensity. 

“What are you doing here?” Spottedleaf snarled. 

Shadepool flattened her ears. “I-I...” She swallowed. “I just wanted to know where Barkface is!” 

“Barkface?” Spottedleaf sounded as if she had never heard the name before. Her tail whisked through the air.  

Shadepool narrowed her eyes. “Barkface, yes,” she repeated. Shadepool steadied her breath. “He died two nights ago - three, now, I think. I need to know if his spirit made it to StarClan or if it didn't, like Onewhisker's. If he's here, I need to speak with him!” 

“Oh,” Spottedleaf grunted. Her spine unbent and her posture relaxed, her fur lying flat. “That.” 

Shadepool's ears rang at how dismissive her tone was. “Yes, that,” Shadepool insisted. She stared at Spottedleaf, confused. She repeated: “Do you know where he is?” 

“I haven't looked,” Spottedleaf answered simply. 

Shadepool's stomach twisted. “How have you not looked?” Her voice was a strained hiss. She didn't want to be outwardly frustrated with a cat from StarClan, but this was just baffling! 

“It's pointless,” Spottedleaf replied, her tone glib. “The whole thing. A waste of time. There are far more important things to do.” 

Shadepool bristled incredulously. She looked around herself again - the vibrant colors, the smell of starlight - this was StarClan, alright, so why did it seem like Spottedleaf wasn't Spottedleaf? 

“Where is Yellowfang?” Shadepool demanded. If Spottedleaf was going to act like this, then Yellowfang was her best bet for answers. 

Spottedleaf was sitting down on her haunches again. “Why bother with Yellowfang?” she wondered. Her tail twitched. “Why bother with a lost spirit? There are far more important things...” 

“What could be more important than this?!” Shadepool snapped. Annoyance flashed in her pelt. “Spirits who should be here are going missing!” 

Spottedleaf stared Shadepool in the eye. The face that had once given Shadepool comfort in her days as a young apprentice now looked strange, alien. It was Spottedleaf, but not, and it seemed as though Spottedleaf was staring right through her. 

“The Omen,” Spottedleaf meowed gravely. “Have you not heard it?” 

Shadepool blinked. “An omen?” she repeated. Was this what was making Spottedleaf act so consumed? “I've not heard of this. If there was an omen, why haven't we medicine cats been told?” 

Spottedleaf's muzzle twitched. “Yellowfang,” she growled. The fur along her spine lifted again. She spoke quick and snappy: “She thinks I'm being obsessive. But she doesn't see what I see. She doesn't know what I know!” 

Shadepool took a step back, nervous. The look in Spottedleaf's eye was wild and dangerous. 

“Yellowfang wants to wait, wants to learn more,” Spottedleaf meowed on, her tail lashing, “but I know that we can't afford to wait. We must act. I'm the only one who truly understands the Omen - the only one who wants to do something about it!” 

The StarClan she-cat's claws were digging into the soft earth surrounding the pool, and Shadepool felt her legs tremble. Was Spottedleaf going to attack her? 

“The Eclipse is coming,” Spottedleaf raved. Her eyes were wide to their whites now. “The Four will come. Before there is peace, blood will spill blood, and the lake will run red! Before there is peace, the Omen must be fulfilled!” 

“Spottedleaf, y-you're not making any sense,” Shadepool mumbled. She took another pace back, her tail bushed with fear. She had never seen any cat behave this way, let alone one from StarClan. 

Spottedleaf did not stop: “There will be Four, blood of hatred and blood of hope, who hold the power of the stars in their paws! There will be Four, and they will sunder the heavens!” 

Shadepool's ears rang as if she had taken a blow to the head. The words were dizzying, coming in a flurry as Spottedleaf ranted on and on, making very little sense. 

“I see it in your eyes!” Spottedleaf said, leaning close to Shadepool. “Hope! Hope!” Spottedleaf's muzzle thrust close to Shadepool's. “The hope is in your eyes!” 

Shadepool lurched back, stumbling over her own paws in an effort to put distance between herself and this deranged she-cat. “What is wrong with you?!” she screeched. 

Spottedleaf did not look affected - in fact, she was still staring at where Shadepool had been and not where she was now. Spottedleaf just kept repeating the words over and over, her pupils thin as a claw. 

Eyes stinging and belly knotted, Shadepool turned and fled. She ran up the slope until she couldn't hear Spottedleaf's voice any longer, crashing into a thicket of boxwood and cowering beneath its cover. She crouched there, trembling, claws stuck in the loamy earth. 

Her heart felt like it had been pierced with thorns, gripped tight by despair. Spottedleaf had been her guide since she had been able to dream, so soft and gentle and sweet - the cat that had spoken to her now seemed almost possessed, a caricature of that beloved she-cat who had once guided and taught her. Shadepool wanted to sob. 

“Shadepool?” a thick, raspy voice called. “Shadepool, is that you?” 

Shadepool whimpered, “I'm here.” 

It was Yellowfang - Shadepool exhaled. Thank StarClan, it was Yellowfang. 

The old she-cat crouched down to peer into the boxwood, her dark orange eyes glittering with sympathy. 

“So,” she wheezed, “you met Spottedleaf, hm?” 

Shadepool could only nod. 

Yellowfang sighed. “I'm so sorry, little one,” she murmured. “Ever since she heard that Omen, she's become impossible to talk to. No one's sure of what's happened to her.” 

Shadepool trembled. How could the sweet Spottedleaf she had known since the beginning of her training become so twisted by some omen? 

“H-Has this ever happened before?” she asked. 

Yellowfang grimaced. “Kind of.” She wiggled into the boxwood and wrapped her tail around Shadepool's trembling body, drawing her close like a kit. “Once, when I was young, there was a medicine cat that saw too many prophecies and omens at once. He went a bit mad from it, true, but he seemed to have a better handle on it than Spottedleaf does.” 

Shadepool wasn't sure that made her feel better. She pressed herself into the tangle of Yellowfang's fur. “I just came here to find Barkface. I didn't think...” 

“Barkface?” Yellowfang repeated. Her body shivered. “Oh, little one, I'm so sorry...” 

“He's not here, is he?” Shadepool guessed. 

Yellowfang shook her head. 

“Do you know what happened?” Shadepool asked. After her encounter with Spottedleaf, Shadepool was too rattled to even be surprised. “Was it like what happened to Onewhisker?” 

“Tallstar tried again, with others this time,” Yellowfang rasped. “But Barkface's spirit was gone.” 

“How can that be?” Shadepool whispered. Horror finally managed to turn her body cold through the shock. “How can that happen twice?” 

“The only thing we can think of is that something else laid claim to their spirits before we could,” Yellowfang grunted. Her tail wound closer, perhaps in hopes of warming Shadepool. 

She shivered, regardless. “Is that possible?” 

Yellowfang's eyes darkened. “When a Clan cat is born, so long as they believe in StarClan, we can guide them here - but remember that faith is complicated, little one, and not all spirits are so kind as we are.” 

“The shadow-cats,” Shadepool guessed. She dug her claws into the dirt. “It has to be them.” 

Yellowfang frowned. “We're beginning to think the same.” 

“Can't you stop them?” Shadepool wondered. “You're StarClan!” 

Yellowfang snorted. “'We're StarClan!'” she chortled, choking out a sound barely emulating laughter. “We're not all-powerful, Shadepool!” 

Shadepool stared at Yellowfang, wide-eyed. “What are you saying?” she whispered. 

“I'm saying that what's happening is something we don't know how to handle,” Yellowfang grumbled, her muzzle rankling. “We'll have to figure this one out together. It goes both ways and all that.” 

“You can't help us.”Shadepool trembled to her toes. “I came here for nothing,” she whispered. 

“Not nothing,” Yellowfang insisted. She put a broad paw over Shadepool's. “You came for answers, and you got them - you just don't like them and don't know what to do with them. Neither do we. This is something we might not understand for a long time.” 

That didn't make Shadepool feel any better. “I'm so tired of doing all this for nothing,” she said bitterly. 

Yellowfang made a gentle noise in her throat and licked Shadepool between her ears. “I am here, little one,” she mumbled. “I will always be here, no matter what.” 

The dream was slipping, and Shadepool could feel it. She wanted to stay with Yellowfang for a while longer, but she knew she couldn't. So she closed her eyes and let herself drift away, the feel of Yellowfang's tongue against her pelt soothing her to the waking world. 

#tb au #tb twilight

[twilights-800-cats]

And here's the Labelled versions of SkyClan's Gorge Camp.

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SkyClan's Gorge Camp

Set this one up during SkyClan and the Stranger, so I could have Sol in it :) Otherwise pretty straight forward! Leafstar and Sharpclaw in charge, Echosong and Frecklepaw being the Medicine Cats.

[twilights-800-cats]

Twilight is done over on Patreon! I'm now sticking my ankles into the story of Sunset, but Patrons will be seeing exclusive concepts and notes from Twilight, along with original works (and art) in the meantime, so if you're interested, consider checking it out!

Like I said, I intend to start posting the Ao3 version of Rising Storm, probably next week, and of course, Twilight will keep going on Tumblr and FF.net until it's done!

Twilight is heading towards its conclusion for Patrons, so here's a reminder that it's only $1 a month to read ahead over on Patreon!

And, for those of you who are wondering, the TB AU will resume on Ao3 once it's done posting over on Patreon!

[twilights-800-cats]

<< Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 || Chapter 19 || From the Beginning || Patreon & Ko-Fi >>

Chapter 18 

The days leading up to the next Gathering were uneventful, but Shadepool couldn't deny the tension that crept up on her Clanmates like an approaching predator. She didn't blame them, not when she felt it herself. 

The last Gathering had changed so much around the lake, especially for ThunderClan. What if Mudstar had found some little excuse to declare outright war? The uncertainty felt like claws in Shadepool's throat, and she missed when Gatherings had been quieter, with only the occasional border crossing or theft to shake things up. 

She had tried to see Crowflight almost every night that she could justify sneaking away - but she had found the stepping-stones empty each time. She prayed it was just his deputy duties keeping him away and not something worse. 

I'll see him tonight, she told herself. Hopefully, we can find the time to talk... Who knew? Maybe tonight would be a return to form for Gatherings? After all, WindClan had only attacked ThunderClan the once, and that had been an independent plan, according to Crowflight... 

“Shadepool, you there?” 

Shadepool flinched out of her own head. She found herself staring right into Sorreltail's yellow eyes and, with a flash of embarrassment, realized that the tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat had been trying to ask her for something. 

“S-Sorry,” Shadepool insisted, feeling flustered. “What was it you wanted?” 

Sorreltail's whiskers twitched. “I told you, I'm feeling a little nauseous...” she prompted. 

“Right, right,” Shadepool confirmed. “Some juniper ought to take care of it.” At least, she hoped it would - it was about all they had. She was about as tired of doling it out as she was sure her Clanmates were of having to eat it. 

Her fur prickled as she ducked into the medicine store. If Brackenfur had caught her ignoring a patient, she'd have lost her whiskers! Thankfully, he was outside the cave, talking with Tinystar about who to bring to the Gathering. 

Shadepool came out with a pair of berries and rolled them over to Sorreltail. “If you're not feeling better after these, come and see us again,” she instructed. She peered at her friend and added, “You're not showing any more serious symptoms, so it'll probably pass.” 

Sorreltail gave the berries a sniff. “I hope so,” she sighed. “I'm already missing the Gathering tonight.” She lashed her tail in frustration. “I shouldn't have eaten that old chaffinch!” 

Shadepool watched her friend lap up the medicine. Sorreltail's fur rippled at the taste, but she swallowed without complaint. She swiped her tongue across her muzzle and wondered, “You're going tonight, right?” 

“Yes,” Shadepool answered. 

“You'll have to tell me how it goes, then,” Sorreltail sighed. Something sparked in her eye, and she pleaded, “Please, be careful - WindClan might try to start something.” 

Her worry touched Shadepool. She touched her muzzle to Sorreltail's ear and meowed, “It'll be fine. Besides, if StarClan tries to stop the Gathering and Mudstar goes against their wishes, it won't exactly help his case.” 

“I suppose.” Sorreltail's tail still twitched with unease. “Still, watch yourself. We're not on the Great Journey anymore.” 

Shadepool walked Sorreltail out of the cave, her own stomach turning at her Clanmate's words. Out in the clearing, in the deep red light of the evening, every warrior was gathered around Tinystar and Brackenfur, clamoring for a spot on the Gathering patrol. 

When Sorreltail headed off to the warrior's den to rest, Shadepool sighed heavily, heading to the back of the crowd. She didn't need to sense her Clanmate's emotions to feel how they stirred her ear fur or clouded the air with their scent. 

Sorreltail is right - the Great Journey feels like a lifetime ago now. 

Her gaze rested on Nightfrost. Her littermate was with Mistyfoot and Rainwhisker, and she couldn't help but notice how troubled his expression was. The Great Journey and the friendships made then had meant so much to him - letting go of those bonds would hurt him most of all. 

Shadepool tested the thorns between them again but did not press when she met resistance. He wasn't ready yet, and she still had no idea what to say. Instead, she turned her attention to her father, who was trying to divide up the Clan: 

“Mousefur, you're staying behind to hold down the camp,” Tinystar meowed. “Cloudtail can help you.” 

Mousefur made an annoyed sound, but Cloudtail piped up, “We'll keep things safe while you're gone, don't worry!” 

Tinystar nodded to his niece in appreciation. Shadepool supposed that was a prudent choice - Dustpelt seemed to be going to the Gathering, and he and Mousefur often agreed with one another. Keeping the two apart would cause less drama, and Cloudtail was a good foil to keep things light at the camp. 

“Cinderpelt, you're with me,” Tinystar decided. “Mistyfoot, you too. Ashfur, you can bring Larchpaw, but keep an eye on him with the other apprentices.” 

His gaze scanned the crowd. Shadepool guessed that her father was trying to leave the camp with a strong enough team of warriors to defend it should Mudstar try something dirty - but taking too few warriors would make Tinystar look like he had something to hide. It was a difficult balance, and Shadepool didn't envy him the task. 

“Rainwhisker, you didn't go last time, so you can come tonight,” Tinystar decided. “Swiftfoot, you're coming too, and... Nightfrost, you can join us. That should be enough.” 

Shadepool found herself agreeing with her father's choices. WindClan had injured Rainwhisker, so if Tinystar brought it up, he would help make a strong case. Swiftfoot was the Clan's strongest fighter, but he made Tinystar seem confident if he was away from camp. Nightfrost was friendly with cats in all the Clans, and bringing him could help smooth any rough conversations. 

“Tinystar,” a quiet voice meowed, “may I come?” 

It was Ferncloud. Shadepool saw her father considering it, and then he nodded. Ferncloud's eyes shimmered, and Shadepool was surprised at the queen's ingenuity - ThunderClan had no active queens at the moment, but bringing a gentle mother like Ferncloud would help show ThunderClan had security in itself. Not only that, but Ferncloud, like Nightfrost, had friends in all the Clans' queens, and she probably wanted to watch out for Larchpaw since Snowstep was staying behind. 

“Alright, the party is decided,” Tinystar meowed sharply. “Everyone who wasn't chosen is to stay behind and guard the camp. Mousefur, Cloudtail, set up sentries along the hollow's edge.” 

“Will do,” Mousefur grunted. 

“StarClan willing, we won't need them,” Tinystar sighed. 

“Better safe than sorry,” Graystripe assured. He nudged Tinystar and urged, “You should get going - the moon is going to rise soon.” 

Tinystar nodded. He lifted his tail, and the crowd parted to let the Gathering patrol through. Shadepool joined Brackenfur just behind Tinystar, nerves wiring the places where her fur and skin met. She glanced at her mentor, wondering what he was thinking, and found that he had his gaze fixed straight ahead. 

Heart thudding, Shadepool decided to do the same. 

———————————————————

ThunderClan was the last to arrive at the Gathering, despite them leaving early - having to take the long way around through ShadowClan's and RiverClan's territories made it so when they leaped from the cedar tree-bridge and onto the island's shore, the other three Clans were already mingling, and the clearing was filled with conversations that stopped abruptly at their appearance. 

“Yikes,” muttered Rainwhisker. “Do we stink or something?” 

Dustpelt nudged him, giving the younger warrior a cross look. 

Shadepool twitched her whiskers. At least some cat was trying to make light of things - the trip here had been quiet and serious, a marching trot meant to get them to the island as fast as possible and keep the other Clans from getting upset at their presence in their lands. 

Many of the cats in the crowd shrugged their shoulders and resumed their conversations after Rainwhisker's remark. Only some of the cats stopped talking to glare at the ThunderClan party - Shadepool noted with a chill that they were almost all WindClan, with a few RiverClan and ShadowClan eyes narrowed in solidarity. 

“The meeting will start soon,” Tinystar meowed quietly. His icy eyes flashed especially to Dustpelt and Swiftfoot. “Don't start anything.” 

He slipped into the crowd, and the patrol broke apart. Brackenfur immediately went to join the other medicine cats, while Duspelt and Cinderpelt found Oakfur of ShadowClan and joined his conversation. Larchpaw headed for a group of apprentices, prompted by Ashfur, who lingered close by. 

Shadepool heard a squeal and got to her paws, alarmed, but quickly realized that it was Larchpaw, who was tackled by two ShadowClan apprentices. They were licking him all over, purring, much to the disgust of the other older apprentices watching. Shadepool let her fur lie flat, but her heart still thudded hard in her ears, and Ashfur looked like he might expire. 

Rainwhisker, Nightfrost, and Mistyfoot met Stoneheart and his friend Pinewhisker in the crowd, and the group immediately sat together to talk. Ferncloud trotted past them, heading for a cluster of queens - she brushed noses with Dawnflower of RiverClan immediately. 

“You made it!” she breathed happily, barely in Shadepool's hearing range. “How are the kits...?” 

Shadepool didn't need to overhear their conversation. Instead, she found herself curious, staring at the gathered crowd. She thought back to the tuft of gray fur, and though she knew Tinystar had been right, it really, truly hit her just then - most of the cats in this crowd were gray-furred. There was no way to make a concrete accusation based on fur color alone. Something about that was comforting, though it still upset her. 

Shadepool swallowed back her thoughts. Everything seemed to be going well, other than the WindClan cats avoiding the ThunderClan party like they were plagued. Shadepool supposed she shouldn't have hoped for more. She thanked StarClan that there didn't seem to be any outright fighting. 

“You should join the other medicine cats,” said a quiet voice. “We're due to start soon.” 

Shadepool felt his pelt brush against hers and breathed in his scent. Her heartbeat steadied, and she resisted the urge to sigh happily, conscious of how many cats were around her. 

She meowed cordially, “It's good to see you, Crowflight. How are things?” She couldn't help but glance his way, trying to seem nonchalant, like a medicine cat above it all. 

The look in Crowflight's eyes caught her off-guard. They were dark, like the lake's depths, deep and drowning. Shadepool couldn't help her own eyes widening a touch as her stomach sank. 

Something's happened. Crowflight wouldn't risk approaching her at a Gathering, so out in the open, unless it was serious. He was smarter than that, or at least usually with cats who were smarter than that. He was giving her a very clear warning. 

Shadepool dipped her head to him respectfully and split away. She tried not to hurry to the other medicine cats, or else they might think Crowflight had purposefully scared her - which he had somewhat. It was so difficult a line to walk, and she couldn't help but stumble as she clambered over the massive, tangled roots of the Great Oak. 

“You okay?” Mothwing asked as Shadepool crawled up to her side. 

Shadepool looked up at the beautiful she-cat and came up with the excuse easily enough: “It was a long walk.” 

Mothwing's eyes glinted, and her tone was sympathetic: “I can imagine.” 

Shadepool's mouth felt dry, and she tried not to see Crowflight's dark shape as it slid through the crowd toward the other deputies. The leaders were already in the tree branches, with Mudstar and Tinystar as far apart as they could manage to be and Leopardstar and Russetstar between them like a barrier. 

“How're things in RiverClan?” Shadepool asked, pelt prickling. 

Mothwing's whiskers twitched. “Well, they're okay, for the most part,” she mewed. Her tail wrapped around her paws. “We've had a few scrapes, but nothing serious.” 

“That's good,” Shadepool breathed. “ThunderClan's been okay, too.” 

She glanced at Brackenfur, who was with Littlecloud and Ryewhisper. The three medicine cats were huddled together, but it seemed like Ryewhisper was very uncomfortable, and his jaws seemed locked tight. 

Mothwing made a noise in her throat. “They've been bothering him the whole time,” she mumbled. “Poor thing.” 

Shadepool nodded in agreement. Her heart thudded in her ears, and she found herself staring holes into her mentor. The only other cat who might know what had happened to Onewhisker's spirit was Ryewhisper - was he trying to find out what the WindClan cat knew? Had he told Littlecloud and Mothwing? 

No, he must not have, Shadepool thought. Both medicine cats would be a lot more freaked out if he had. 

“He's surely got enough to deal with,” Mothwing continued, oblivious. “Can you imagine a cat as nervous as Ryewhisper having to listen to Mudstar?” 

Shadepool shook her head. “I don't know how he's managing...” 

“I guess we'll find out,” Mothwing yawned. She nodded up at the branches of the tree. “They're getting ready to start.” 

Leopardstar's yowl sounded just a heartbeat later, clear and loud: “Cats of the four Clans, in the light of the full moon, we Gather as one! Be silent, and listen!” 

The clearing went quiet, with all heads turning to the Great Oak, ears and eyes turned to silver by the moonlight. Only the rattle of the surrounding trees could be heard as Leopardstar scanned the island for any spare conversations she might have to silence. 

When she was satisfied, she began: “RiverClan has been prosperous this past moon! Falcontail and Heronleap bravely drove off a curious badger, and despite the cold grip of leafbare, the prey runs well. RiverClan is full and happy.” 

Shadepool glanced at Mothwing, shocked. “Your brother drove off a badger?” she hissed. 

She expected pride from Mothwing, but the she-cat's muzzle twitched into a grimace. “He did,” she mumbled quietly, “but Heronleap nearly lost his muzzle for it. He's healing well, but going two-on-one with a badger like that was reckless.” 

Shadepool glanced up at Leopardstar and supposed that a proud she-cat like her wouldn't want to mention that. 

It was Russetstar's turn. The dark ginger she-cat stood tall as she announced, “Prey runs well in ShadowClan's territory: Nightwing has moved to the nursery, and I am proud to announce that we have two new apprentices with us tonight - Willowpaw and Rushpaw!” 

“Willowpaw! Rushpaw!” the Clans cheered. 

Shadepool glanced over at the apprentices and suddenly recognized the two ShadowClan cats that had tackled Larchpaw so happily - Finchsong's kits looked so different now that they were 'paws, having lost their kitten-fluff. The three young cats had been almost inseparable on the Great Journey. 

No wonder they were so glad to see each other, Shadepool thought warmly, happy that some remnant of the Great Journey's friendships had remained. 

“Willowpaw has been apprenticed to Pinewhisker,” Russetstar meowed on, “while Stoneheart has taken on the honor of mentoring Rushpaw.” 

Shadepool's eyes widened. Though the Clans didn't cheer for the mentors, she couldn't help but purr, her eyes stinging with pride - Stoneheart, with an apprentice? She couldn't think of any cat in ShadowClan who deserved one more! 

Shadepool spotted Mistyfoot in the crowd. She was with her brother, congratulating him alongside Nightfrost - but Shadepool couldn't help but wonder how she was feeling. First, Ashfur had been given an apprentice, and now her brother... There were no new kits in ThunderClan. Was she feeling left behind? 

“Good for them!” Mothwing purred. She glanced down at Shadepool and wondered, “Stoneheart is a good mentor, right?” 

Shadepool nodded. “He taught me some moves on our trip to the lake,” she answered. The memories tickled her fondly. “Thankfully, I've not had to use them yet.” 

Mothwing sighed. “It's a good thing for a medicine cat to know,” she said simply. “Just because we're healers doesn't mean we can't defend ourselves!” 

“Do you still practice your warrior moves?” Shadepool asked, tilting her head. 

Mothwing nodded, her gaze serious. “I've got to keep my claws sharp - you never know!” 

Finally, it was Tinystar's turn: “ThunderClan has little to report. Despite it being leafbare, our land has treated us well, with plentiful prey and shelter from the cold. My warriors are ready to face any new challenge - especially with Ashfur training Larchpaw, our newest apprentice.” 

“Larchpaw! Larchpaw!” Though no cat in WindClan cheered, Rushpaw's and Willowpaw's voices were loud enough to be a Gathering on their own, and Larchpaw seemed happy at their praise. 

Shadepool couldn't help but tremble, staring up at her father as the cheering died. Was he going to mention the WindClan ambush? 

Tinystar, however, dipped his head to Mudstar, and settled back down on his branch, a dark shadow in the oak. 

Shadepool swallowed. So he was going to hold onto the information, then - perhaps he was trying to give Mudstar the benefit of the doubt in case it escalated things too far? In the crowd, she could see Rainwhisker looking perturbed until Mistyfoot calmed him with some quiet words. 

Mudstar came forward, still balancing awkwardly on his leg injury, which seemed to be as healed as possible, to Shadepool's eye. The WindClan leader would likely have a permanent limp for the rest of his life - possibly as severe as Brackenfur's thanks to his advanced age. 

Mudstar's sharp eyes scanned the clearing, and every cat held their breath. What was he going to say? What was he going to do? He had made the last Gathering an event to be remembered, after all - was he going to do the same tonight? 

The sky was clear, and Shadepool flexed her claws in anticipation. Whatever Mudstar was planning, she wished he'd get on with it. 

“Last Gathering, WindClan did not have a chance to welcome our newest warrior.” Mudstar's voice was a thin rasp with the barest hint of a snarl. “I would like to rectify that - Thornpaw has become Thorndusk!” 

“Thorndusk! Thorndusk!” 

The WindClan warriors cheered the loudest, though Shadepool spotted a young gray ShadowClan warrior's shining eyes as he stared into the crowd at a cat Shadepool couldn't see. 

Mothwing made a noise. “How sweet,” she murmured. “She was named after Duskflower!” 

Shadepool recalled then who Thorndusk was and nodded in agreement. Thorndusk had been an apprentice on the Great Journey and had gotten terribly injured in the mountains. The ShadowClan queen Duskflower had saved her life by sacrificing her own. It was strange for a warrior to be named after a cat from another Clan, but that sacrifice must've meant a lot to Thorndusk. 

“Robinwing has also given birth to a strong litter of four kits,” Mudstar meowed as the crowd quieted. “Their names are Blizzardkit, Galekit, Sleetkit, and Ashkit.” 

The crowd called out the names, and Shadepool glanced over at Crowflight. She didn't know this Robinwing, but how did Crowflight feel about her naming one of her kits after his mother? 

“Good news for WindClan,” Mothwing sighed, oblivious again. “Four kits! That's wonderful!” 

“How are they?” Littlecloud asked Ryewhisper, perhaps hoping he would answer that question, at least. 

Ryewhisper did not respond. Littlecloud glanced at Brackenfur, who sighed quietly. 

Shadepool wasn't surprised, though. Ryewhisper looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but where he was right now. 

Still, things seem to be going well for WindClan, she thought. Maybe Mudstar really is good for them. He hasn't even mentioned Onewhisker... She stared over at Crowflight, recalling the look in his eyes. Had that been her imagination? 

Mudstar, however, was not done: “WindClan has one more announcement to make.” His voice had gone broken and rusty. “As you all know, when Onewhisker and Barkface were ambushed, Barkface survived with several injuries.” 

He lifted his graying muzzle. “I come here tonight to tell you that Barkface has joined his warrior ancestors in StarClan. He passed on two nights ago, just as the moon turned full.” 

Just like at the last Gathering, the entire world seemed to jolt to a stop. So powerful a feeling it was, Shadepool felt as if all the breath had been driven from her lungs. 

Barkface is dead?! 

She looked down at Ryewhisper. No wonder he hadn't said a word tonight! 

“That's terrible,” Leopardstar sighed. She shook her muzzle, her gaze glazed with sorrow. “He was a noble cat.” 

“StarClan will welcome him,” agreed Russetstar 

Tinystar shifted on his branch. “Mudstar,” he murmured, “I'm so sorry.” 

Mudstar squared his shoulders. “Keep your sorrow, ThunderClan,” he growled softly. “You have no idea how much he suffered because of what you did!” 

The mood of the clearing shifted immediately. Once again, tension filled the air, and Shadepool watched the crowd shift, splitting into four Clans again. Shadepool's heart sank - all Mudstar had to do was accept Tinystar's words, but of course he just couldn't! 

She looked up at the sky. No clouds, not yet. Her tail trembled. 

“Is it true?” Brackenfur wondered, his rasping voice bringing Shadepool's muzzle down again. “Did he suffer?” 

The medicine cats leaned in towards Ryewhisper expectantly. The WindClan medicine cat shivered. 

“I tried to keep him comfortable as best as I could,” Ryewhisper mumbled, finally. He seemed to sink into himself. “He was delirious from fever and pain in the end.” 

“Did he say anything?” Littlecloud wondered. His small ears flattened. “Anything at all?” 

Ryewhisper shook his head. “Nothing that made sense,” he admitted. The thin tom hunched his shoulders. “He mumbled of shadows and pain. That's all I could make out.” 

Shadepool's heart crept into her throat, and she locked eyes with Brackenfur. Shadows and pain? Did that mean what she thought it meant? 

Her ears were buzzing. She was vaguely aware of the cats in the clearing clamoring chaotically, but she was so far removed from that now. All she could think of were the shadow-cats, and that Barkface might have seen them, too, in his final moments. If they had come for him and not a cat from StarClan... Was that what had happened to Onewhisker? 

I have to find Barkface's spirit! 

“Shadepool?” Mothwing's voice cut into the noise. “Are you okay?” 

Shadepool blinked, realizing that her claws had been tearing at the root she was perched on. She forced herself to unclench, unsure how to answer Mothwing without spilling everything - so, instead, she stared at Brackenfur, willing him to know what it was she needed to do without her having to say. 

He looked up from Ryewhisper and stared back at her, but his look was so severe that it was, without a doubt, a refusal. If he could speak, she was sure he would tell her to wait, to stay put for now. 

Shadepool felt like she was about to vibrate out of her pelt. We don't have time to wait! She wanted to scream at him. What good had waiting done so far? What good did waiting ever do? 

There was a yowl in the crowd. Vaguely, she recognized Swiftfoot's voice and saw a flash of white. The cats in the clearing shuffled, some screeching, as a tussle broke out amidst them. 

“That's enough!” Tinystar yowled. His eyes blazed like stars. “Swiftfoot!” 

Brackenfur tore himself away from the medicine cats. “Have you no self-control?” he snarled. He stomped into the crowd, the fur along his spine bristling. “Starting a fight at a Gathering! Your ancestors would be ashamed of you!” 

Shadepool flattened her ears. Everything was devolving. Mudstar was flinging accusations, and Tinystar was flinging them back. Littlecloud joined Brackenfur in an attempt to quell the fighting. Tawnypelt and Crowflight stepped in to pull apart Swiftfoot and his opponent, Softbreeze, but another fight started just beside them as Dustpelt pounced on Crowflight, accusing him of trying to hurt his Clanmate. 

Shadepool's ears rang as Crowflight and Dustpelt rolled across the clearing, claws and teeth flashing. Stoneheart and Mistyfoot separated the two, with Nightfrost pressing himself between them, begging them all to stop. 

“Shadepool...” Mothwing mewed hesitantly. 

Shadepool felt sick. The tang of blood was in the air, but the sky was still clear. She met Mothwing's gaze. The golden she-cat was just as terrified, her claws unsheathed as if she might have to defend herself at any moment. 

“I have to go,” Shadepool meowed, her voice a strained whisper. “There's something I need to do. I can't tell you why right now, but-” She hesitated, her mouth dry. “But I will. I promise.” 

Mothwing's eyes flashed. “Do it,” she said, swallowing. “Go. Get out of here! I'll cover for you.” 

Shadepool was shocked - she'd expected the RiverClan she-cat to at least question what it was she intended. Shadepool touched her nose to Mothwing's, filled with love for her friend. “I'll owe you,” she promised. 

“This Gathering is over!” Leopardstar snarled, her voice resonating powerfully. “Mudstar, Tinystar, control your warriors!” The moonlight highlighted her dappled body as she leaped into the throng of tussling warriors.  

Shadepool didn't see what happened next. She tore away from Mothwing and the others, leaping into the undergrowth that ringed the clearing. She crossed the tree-bridge without thinking much about where she was putting her paws - she could've landed in the lake and not missed a step. 

As soon as she touched down on the opposite shore, she ran across the stony marsh as fast as her paws would take her. 

#tb au #tb twilight

[twilights-800-cats]

Twilight is heading towards its conclusion for Patrons, so here's a reminder that it's only $1 a month to read ahead over on Patreon!

And, for those of you who are wondering, the TB AU will resume on Ao3 once it's done posting over on Patreon!

#its so much work posting on so many sites guys #i do it for art already and its exhausting

[twilights-800-cats]

<< Chapter 16 || Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 || From the Beginning || Patreon & Ko-Fi >>

Chapter 17

“What do we do now?” Shadepool prompted, staring at her mentor. Her legs were trembling with fear and uncertainty, and she was hoping more than hope that Brackenfur had some sort of idea.

Brackenfur, though, was staring back at her, just as helplessly. Shadepool swallowed around a hard lump in her throat.

He doesn't know what to do! Panic lit Shadepool's nerves on fire, bouncing against the walls of thorns in her mind. He always knows what to do!

Shadepool stared down at her paws. However, there were no answers there - just herself, her own little white paws, and the sand-covered stone below her. She looked back up at Brackenfur and found that he was still stunned.

“Do... Do we tell Tinystar?” she wondered, hoping to spur him to someplace other than silence.

Brackenfur blinked and then flattened his ears. “No,” he answered lamely. He shook his muzzle, then coughed out, “No! Not yet.”

Shadepool worked her paws against the ground, confused. “Tinystar asked me to look for Onewhisker,” she admitted. “You want me not to tell him?”

Brackenfur's muzzle clenched. “He shouldn't have done that to you,” he lamented. “There was never any guarantee you'd have found him in the first place, whether he was there or not.” He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “But how could you say no?”

His eyes flickered, and Shadepool sensed that he was beginning to come out from his shock. Brackenfur's tail twitched in thought.

“I will handle Tinystar,” he said firmly. “Go and try to rest, Shadepool.”

Shadepool frowned. “I can talk to Tinystar; you don't have to do it for me.”

“Tinystar is still hurting,” Brackenfur insisted. He hunkered down in his nest, exhaling through his nose in what Shadepool guessed was pain. The juniper he'd taken before the trek to the Moonpool would've worn off long before now. He adjusted himself, grunting, “This knowledge needs to be conveyed carefully - to tell him outright might cause him to spiral and do something desperate.”

Shadepool bit her tongue. She knew her father well enough to know that Brackenfur was right.

“We might not like it,” Brackenfur went on, “and believe me, I don't - but we cannot afford to chance what Tinystar might do, not until we have more information ourselves. Sometimes, we medicine cats must withhold the truth for the good of our Clans.”

He regarded her evenly, and Shadepool knew he was placing a heavy amount of trust on her shoulders, possibly more than he had ever before. She dipped her chin low in understanding.

It's not like I'm any stranger to doing that, she told herself. But her stomach still roiled now as it had back then, nerves threatening to eat her from the inside out. Did Brackenfur know what she had done to save WindClan? Yellowfang had, after all, and the two were very close.

If he did, he wasn't punishing her for it. Not yet.

Shadepool bid him a quiet goodnight before she headed for her own nest, exhausted to her bones. She wasn't sure she would get any sleep - how could she, knowing that something had stolen Onewhisker's spirit?

But she went through the effort of circling in her nest, anyway, and by the time she had laid herself down and tucked her nose behind her tail, her eyes were heavy with sleep.

In the darkness, she thought she saw the shapes of shadowy cats.

———————————————————

The next several days passed quietly.

Shadepool was kept busy enough with her duties, scouring the territory for any winter herbs that were available and helping her Clanmates with aches and sprains and chills. Her spare moments were split between begging StarClan for newleaf and trying to untangle the questions in her mind, foremost of all what had happened to Onewhisker's spirit.

Sorreltail and Sun sometimes joined her on her outings - if they noticed that Shadepool was lost in thought, they didn't say anything. In fact, they often seemed to do their best to keep her mind away from what was troubling her, even if they didn't know it, taking moments to play with her in the snow or teaching her tips on how to hunt in leafbare. Shadepool found herself catching more than a few pieces of fresh-kill for the pile.

Shadepool was very grateful for the distraction. The knowledge of Onewhisker's fate was an oppressive force, true; but what was worse was not being able to talk to anyone about it.

Brackenfur had spent these days wracking his brain, but he had no more clues than Shadepool. It seemed as if Brackenfur had told Tinystar that Shadepool simply hadn't been able to find Onewhisker - if Tinystar was skeptical, he didn't show it outwardly, and he went about his days as he usually did, keeping the Clan running with Mistyfoot and Dustpelt.

Nightfrost was worse, though - where Shadepool had once not even needed to speak to convey her distress, now she wanted desperately to tell him what had happened, but found herself incapable of even beginning a conversation with her brother. She had never been so cut off from him before, and she longed to do so much as eat beside her brother and share in his life, but the first thing she needed to do was apologize to him before she laid anything at his paws. She just didn't know how to do that yet.

Slowly, the moon began to swell again, and, on a dark, cloudy night where the moon was a few days from full, Shadepool crept out of camp, using the shadows to hide her from Sootfur on the night watch.

Weighed down with her feelings and worries and lack of answers and confidants, she wanted nothing more than to see Crowflight - and, even if they didn't see one another, just getting out of camp by herself would be good for her mind, she knew.

She took it slow through the forest, heading to the Divide - not to the tree-bridge, but to the hidden stepping-stones that Crowflight had shown her what felt like a lifetime ago, now. If he wanted to see her, he would be there, where it was safer for them to meet.

As she walked, she was wondering what they would even talk about. She wanted to catch up with Crowflight more than anything, but what would she say about what she had learned? She'd never kept secrets from Crowflight before, and the idea of starting to now didn't feel right.

But what would he think of Onewhisker not being in StarClan? she thought. Her paws trembled. He would have to tell Mudstar something like that, right?

Would Mudstar even believe it, though? Shadepool shuddered. The concept was just too horrendous! And how would Crowflight explain where he'd learned such information? What if Mudstar laid the blame on ThunderClan again? It would really be war, then, and the other Clans would have to side with WindClan in the face of such a revelation.

ThunderClan would be alone, with no hope at all to survive.

Shadepool stopped beside the stepping-stones. Her chest felt tight - her thoughts had spiraled too much, too intensely, and she settled in a bit of leafless bracken to hide and try to calm down.

She tried again to break open the thorn barrier in her mind and found that, frustratingly, it still wouldn't budge. On the other side was Nightfrost, and whatever dreams he was dreaming, whatever comfort he could give. The idea of being so trapped with her own thoughts was so suffocating, especially when they were this heavy and apocalyptic.

Is this how Mistyfoot feels inside? she wondered. She'd only ever seen the outward appearance of Mistyfoot's anxiety. To think that her friend felt like this so often! How did she manage?

Shadepool focused on her breathing, but wished she had some thyme to help unclench her chest. This deep in leafbare, though, meant that the plant would be nowhere to be found. Even just a whiff of its comforting scent would probably help...

Her nose twitched.

The scent that had drifted across the river wasn't thyme, but it was something far more soothing. Her ears pricked, and she poked her head out from the bracken, hoping she wasn't making it up.

Crowflight!

He was on the other side of the stepping-stones, staring across the water with a hopeful look in his eyes. He hadn't spotted her yet, but it seemed like he was looking, with the purposeful way he peered into the scraggly bushes.

Shadepool's breath caught in her throat, and her worries faded like mist in the sunshine - he was here! She thanked StarClan as she carefully pulled herself out of her hiding spot. She lifted her tail in greeting, a purr caught in her throat.

Crowflight spotted her a moment later, and his eyes widened. Moments later, he was splashing across the stepping-stones without a care for how he might slip. He was on the ThunderClan side of the Divide and a whiskerlength away within a heartbeat.

Shadepool breathed in his scent, letting it warm and comfort her. Her mind, which had been weighted down like a thundercloud, eased away, lifted into a sunny greenleaf day. Love welled up in her chest, and she wondered if it would spill out her jaws when she opened her mouth.

“Crowflight!” She almost choked on her purr. “It's been so long, I'm so sorry!”

Crowflight's eyes glittered with emotion. He rasped, “It's okay! I understand.”

They stared into one another's eyes for a long moment, just drinking in the sight of each other. Shadepool desperately needed to know if anything about him had changed. Crowflight looked leaner and stronger. Had he grown taller, somehow? No, that couldn't be. His dark fur looked sleek as the night sky, and he seemed as healthy as she could determine.

He seemed to be doing the same to her, his eyes flickering over her. She felt warm under his scrutiny and welcomed that in this bitter cold.

When he was done, he touched his nose to her ear and breathed, “I've missed you.”

“Me, too,” Shadepool agreed.

“Where have you been?” he asked. His gaze flashed with concern. “Duskwhisker said she scented you alone at the ambush site, but I haven't seen you anywhere...”

Shadepool twitched her whiskers. That's probably the last time he heard anything of me! It's been so long!

“I, uh, wasn't supposed to be there,” Shadepool admitted. Her tail frisked. “I was hoping to find something we might've missed, but...”

“But?” Crowflight leaned in, hopeful.

Shadepool sighed. “I don't think it was anything at all,” she sighed. Quickly, she told him about the gray tuft of fur. “Tinystar didn't think it was conclusive since there are too many gray cats in the Clans.”

Crowflight grimaced. “I don't disagree,” he decided. “That sounds too vague to be helpful.”

He exhaled, his eyes turning soft. “I'm sorry it didn't amount to anything, Shade,” he murmured. “I know you'd try anything to help, but that was dangerous! Duskwhisker wouldn't have been able to defend you if you'd been caught.”

Shadepool's fur fluffed with discomfort. “You're telling me they'd attack a medicine cat?”

Crowflight lashed his tail. “I wouldn't tell them to, and normally, I don't think Duskwhisker would - but not every cat thinks that way. After all, whoever killed Onewhisker didn't try to spare Barkface, either.” His gaze darkened. “Some cats are having a hard time grappling with that.”

Shadepool shuddered at the idea. “Is WindClan really so far gone?” she whispered.

“Not at all!” Crowflight insisted, his neck fur ruffling. Shadepool felt him tense, and a familiar defensiveness entered his tone: “WindClan is doing just fine right now. Mudstar isn't a bad leader, and I think I'm doing a pretty good job as deputy! My Clanmates are not heartless, they're just scared!”

Shadepool took a step back, flattening her ears. “You know what I meant, Crowflight,” she insisted with a hiss. “You don't need to get like that.”

Crowflight looked away from her, his hackles lowering self-consciously. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Are things really going so well?” Shadepool wondered. She drew close, accepting his apology.

Crowflight nodded. He told her, “It's the middle of leafbare - that sucks, like usual, but Mudstar is handling it all really well. He can be harsh, but he does know what he's doing. The Clan has gotten back on its paws.”

She had to ask: “And the ambush...?”

“The ambush...?” Crowflight repeated, confused. “I didn't hear anything about that.”

She explained what happened, quickly. “No one was seriously hurt,” she said, “but you're telling me you didn't know anything about it?”

Crowflight shook his head, his expression grim. “I don't think Mudstar did, either,” he grunted. “He ordered us not to mess with ThunderClan unless they mess with us first.”

“Tinystar said the same thing.” It surprised Shadepool that the two would end up thinking the same way about the situation, despite standing on opposite sides of it. What did that say about Mudstar's leadership? Shadepool wasn't sure.

Crowflight looked troubled. “I'll keep an eye out for any rumblings of things like this, but I don't know what I can do about the ambush without revealing how I knew about it.” His tail stiffened. “I don't want to get you into any trouble.”

“Perhaps Duskwhisker can help?” Shadepool suggested.

“I can't risk her, either. She'd never forgive me.” Crowflight shook his head. “She's my friend, probably my only one.”

Shadepool scoffed, “Not your only one! What about Nightfrost and the others?”

Crowflight looked her in the eye. “Do they really still think we're friends after all this?”

Drawing closer, Shadepool pressed her muzzle against his. “I do,” she murmured. “And I know they still care about you, even if things are complicated right now.”

Crowflight grunted, and Shadepool wondered if he believed her.

The night drew on into the early hours. When the first birds began to chirp and clamor and the sky was a pale gray, Shadepool uncurled herself from the bracken nest they had made and nudged Crowflight awake.

“It's time,” she murmured.

While Crowflight stretched, Shadepool watched him. Her heart ached at what was to come - that he would disappear over the stepping-stones, and she had no idea when she would see him again. He was the brightest spot of happiness in her life right now, and she didn't want to lose that, not for anything.

“Crowflight, wait a moment,” she said suddenly.

Crowflight looked at her, puzzled. “Shade, I know you don't want to go, but we have to-”

“No, this is important!” Shadepool insisted. “You need to know about this.”

Heart thudding in her ears, Shadepool wondered if this was the right thing to do - but something inside her screamed that she couldn't hide it anymore, it was just too much, and it was Crowflight - she couldn't keep a secret like this. Not if they were to work together, which she wanted more than anything after feeling so cut off from everyone important to her.

So, she told him about Onewhisker, sharing everything she could until he was slack-jawed in shock, staring at her as if she had grown trees from her ears.

“I know this is a lot,” she breathed, her limbs trembling, “and you might not understand what it means - we don't, either - but I can't... I can't handle knowing it all on my own. I just can't.”

Crowflight blinked at her, owl-eyed. Speechless.

Please, say something!

“Do you believe me?” Shadepool urged.

Crowflight was silent for another heartbeat. “I wish I didn't,” he finally managed, his voice dry. “Oh, Shadepool...”

“Don't tell anyone else, not even Mudstar!” Shadepool insisted. She stared into his eyes, begging and pleading. “For now, at least. Not until we know what's really going on here!”

“What about Barkface?” Crowflight wondered, his ears flattened. “Wha-What if this happens to him, too?”

Shadepool shivered at the idea. “Is Barkface...?”

“Ryewhisper isn't hopeful,” Crowflight confessed, his voice full of pain and fear. She could see the hair along his spine rising. “If Barkface dies, and his spirit disappears, too...”

“... then there won't be a way for anyone to find out the truth,” Shadepool finished. Her chest tightened again, making it hard to breathe. Could whatever had done this really be so cruel?

We're already dealing with someone willing to kill, she thought resolutely, even though it sickened her. Nothing is out of the realm of possibility. She wished she could tell Brackenfur about this - but there was no way he would calmly understand how she'd gotten the information about Barkface.

Crowflight seemed to be of the same mind. He rested his muzzle on top of her head. “Thank you for telling me,” he whispered. “I don't know what I can do to help, Shadepool, but I know we can stop this. We can do anything, so long as we're together.”

Shadepool trembled at his words and could only purr in response. Was this what Yellowfang meant about faith and love? She wasn't sure, but she decided that it was close enough.

She breathed in his scent one last time and then watched him cross the stepping-stones, his lean form disappearing into the woods on the other side. She missed him so much already, but their night together would have to last until they saw one another again.

Shadepool glanced up at the moon. There'll be a Gathering soon, she thought, suppressing a yawn. Perhaps we can meet then? Maybe there will be more information in the coming days...

First, though, she would have to disguise her scent before returning to camp. If she got there quick enough, she could take a nap until sunup, and then maybe Sorreltail would hunt some breakfast with her...

When she lowered her gaze from the sky, her heart nearly leaped out of her chest. The white cat was standing a tail-length away, staring right at her.

Stunned, Shadepool locked eyes with the being, trapped in its starry gaze that showed so much yet so little. It didn't move, its lean shape barely visible in the white world around them.

Yellowfang had been certain the being meant no harm, so why was it stalking her? Shadepool's pelt fizzled with frustration. Why did this thing have to appear right when she felt slightly more confident?

Exasperated, she burst, demanding, “What do you want from me?”

As usual, there was no response. The white cat simply stared back, Silverpelt swirling in its liquid gaze. Looking for too long felt like Shadepool was floundering in deep water, watching the bubbles of her last breaths drift up to the surface.

Shadepool shivered. “If you're not here to hurt or help me - are you just going to stare at me? Is that all you do?” she spat, bitterly. “Am I supposed to just know what you want?”

Nothing.

Shadepool growled in her throat. “I don't have time for this,” she said. “Leave me alone already, unless you can help me!”

She turned away from the white cat, not looking back to see if it had disappeared. If that spirit wanted something out of her, it could say so. If not, it could stand there and rot for all she cared.

There was too much else going on to worry about it now.

#tb au #tb twilight