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The nights were never the warmest.
As far as she knew, Tawnypelt was the only one awake. The group had managed to find a cave on their way to the mountains, and just in time too. By the time they saw its inviting entrance, the first few specks of starpelt had started to litter the darkening sky, and the sun had already vanished in the horizon as twilight settled in. The shelter was by no means the most comfortable spot, but they couldn’t pick and choose in a territory they weren’t familiar with, no matter how much Squirrelpaw or Crowpaw bemoaned. Besides the fuss from the gang’s younger and more energetic members, everyone was exhausted and their paws hurt, so it made for a decent mock den.
What no one took account of was how absolutely frigid the night was going to be.
Tawnypelt would’ve thought it was leafbare if it weren’t for the lack of snow. The winds were absolutely bone chilling, and the hard stone surface of the cave that they had to sleep on didn’t help the issue. The thick fur of the more lucky ones, like Brambleclaw and Stormfur, gave them an unfair advantage by giving them more insulation. The apprentices took full advantage of those traits, with Squirrelpaw nuzzled beside Brambleclaw and Crowpaw wedged in between Stormfur and Feathertail. That left Tawnypelt by herself.
Originally she didn’t think it would be much of a deal, after all, she saw her fair share of chilly nights on the journey. However, not even her long pelt was a match to the arctic breeze that sunk through her dappled coat and pierced through her skin, sending chills crawling up her spine. Sure, she could cozy up next to one of her other long-furred members to snatch some of their body heat, but she didn’t want to deal with the complaints of Squirrelpaw and Crowpaw, nor did she want to wake anyone else up. So, she laid awake, staring up at the star freckled sky and hoping the night would soon grow warm enough for her to comfortably sleep.
“You’re still awake?”
A soft, groggy, and rather unexpected voice caused Tawnypelt to flinch. She turned her head, despite already knowing who the voice belonged to. Feathertail, fur ruffled and ears perked up, blinked at the tortie with half-lidded and tired eyes as she waited for an answer from the other molly.
“Mm, I’m going to sleep in a minute,” Tawnypelt mumbled out her reply, tail pressing against her body to conserve whatever warmth she had and she turned her gaze back to the stars. As much as she tried to hide it, a shiver flowed through her body as another breeze swept through the cave. “Are you cold?” Feathertail meowed, concern prominent in her tone. The last thing Tawnypelt wanted to do was worry the poor she-cat, Feathertail was known to worry almost a little too much about the group. Tawnypelt was no exception to that. “No,” the tortie replied, “no, I’m fine.”
For a few moments, silence settled throughout the cave. At first, Tawnypelt had assumed Feathertail had gone back to sleep, but when she heard shifting, Crowpaw’s grumble of protest, and the sound of pawsteps, she knew that wasn’t the case. One thing led to another, and a different kind of silver pelt blocked her view of the night sky. Her green gaze peered up, meeting the she-cat’s moonlit sky-blue eyes. The soft smile that rested on Feathertail’s muzzle alone could’ve warmed Tawnypelt up.
“You don’t need to lie to me,” Feathertail purred, already trying to find a spot next to the other molly to comfortably lie down, “tonight’s not the warmest.” Finally, she settled in front of Tawnypelt, her chin resting on the tortie’s dappled side. Almost immediately Tawnypelt started to feel the effects, the tabby was practically radiating heat. It was such a relief, and the molly couldn’t help but press closer into the other she-cat’s fur. Feathertail giggled. “See? Now that’s better, isn’t it?” The silver molly’s voice was soothing and sweet like honey, but was barely above a whisper in order to avoid waking up her fellow travel-mates. Tawnypelt glanced back at Feathertail, whose smile had widened. “Much better, thanks,” she replied, her cheek resting on curly fur.
For a solid minute, more silence had swept through the area. It wasn’t tense or unnerving, like how it normally is during most parts of the trip. No, it was peaceful, soothing almost. It was almost enough to lull the tortoiseshell to sleep, her jaws finally parting in a yawn, until Feathertail piped up again. “Oh, I hate to keep you awake Tawny,” Tawnypelt’s ears swiveled forward at the nickname, “but I’ve got to ask, what do you plan on doing if we manage to find this new territory and move in with the rest of the clans?”
“Adjust to the new life with Shadowclan of course, but otherwise things should go normally. Should be the same for the other clans too, so I’m unsure as to why you asked,” She answered, already starting to bury her nose into moonlit fur. Feathertail sighed. “I know, but I wanted to know if there’s ever going to be a chance that I’ll get to see you again.” Tawnypelt slowly lifted her head to look at Feathertail. She seemed...concerned. Sad, almost. “We’ll always see each other during gatherings,” she was puzzled at first until she caught on, “unless you mean outside of those.”
“Yea, outside of gatherings,” A quiet purr rumbled deep within Feathertail’s throat, “do you think I’ll ever get the chance to talk to you again?” Tawnypelt blinked, trying to come up with an answer. Now that she mentioned it, Tawnypelt didn’t really think much about what the group would do after they’ve parted ways into the new territory. The more realistic choice would be that they would go about their clan lives and only talk to each other during gatherings, but the more wishful part of her wanted to keep close contact with the others. She’d grown fond of the gang during the journey, especially Feathertail.
“I don’t know,” Tawnypelt finally sighed, “we might if we catch each other on patrols or while we’re hunting, but you know how strict Shadowclan can get,” She almost immediately regretted her choice of words when she noticed the silver tabby’s smile falter. “I suppose you’re right,” She grew quiet for a couple of moments, until her face started to brighten up again, “maybe the two of us can have night time meetups?” The tortie blinked in disbelief. “Night time meetups? That’ll make us tired during the day, surely cats would notice sooner or later.”
“Oh, they don’t have to be long! Just a little while to catch up with each other, you know? That way we’ll still stay in touch.” Feathertail’s smile grew at the idea. She seemed so giddy about it, and Tawnypelt couldn’t help but smirk. Maybe it would be nice, grooming each other and basking in the moonlight as they chatted and gossiped about their own clan lives. It was a pleasant thought, and for once, Tawnypelt went for the less realistic option, “I’ll consider it.”
“Wonderful!” The tabby was practically beaming at the answer. Tawnypelt let out a huff, the smirk still pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Are you going to do the same with the others?” She asked, which caused Feathertail to pause for a moment. “Depends on where their clans settle, but above all else, I want to get to see you,” The other molly couldn’t help but purr at that answer.
The other group members have most likely noticed by now, judging by Crowpaw’s jealous and indiscreet glares, but Tawnypelt had found herself growing very fond of Feathertail. They’d usually talk while trekking through the woods or across the sand of the sun-drown-place, and when they went quiet, Feathertail always tried to find something to make conversation with her, no matter how small the detail is. It was like they were stuck to each other's side while they trotted behind the others.
Even on nights like tonight, where they sometimes slept by each other under the stars, the fondness never diminished for Tawnypelt. If anything, it only added kindle to the rising flame within her heart. It was a lovely experience, looking into Feathertail’s eyes as they talked throughout the night. They were such a bright, cold blue, yet they contained such a warmth that was unmatched by any cat. Tawnypelt could’ve sworn they would melt snow, as they’ve already managed to make her melt.
As their conversation finally dwindled, Tawnypelt nuzzled into the molly’s thick, curly, and downright beautiful silver fur. Feathertail had lived up to her name, her coat was unbelievably soft and cozy, as if she were actually resting on feathers, and the tortie couldn’t help but let out a sigh. She never wanted to move.
The night went by rather quickly as the two slept, and for once, Tawnypelt managed to get a good night’s rest. As she and the rest of the group woke up and started to make their way towards the mountains, her thoughts started to drift back to last night’s conversation. A smile started to tug at her muzzle again.
Maybe losing a few hours of sleep would be worth it in order to see Feathertail again.