Archive of Our Own

Snow dripped from the thick pine branches over the ElkClan camp. Fresh puddles littered the camp, much to the joy of Weaselkit and Pondkit. The moon old kits squealed as they charged through the puddles, mud covering their paws. Weaselkit clawed at a big puddle, splashing his littermate in the face. Pondkit crouched with his flank high in the air, tail waving. He pounced at Weaselkit with a mighty yowl. It sounded more like a mouse’s squeak, but it was as mighty as he could get. The two tumbled into the puddle, laughing.

“Weaselkit, Pondkit!” Stoatpool called from her sunning spot by the holy den. She flicked her tail for the kits to come. “Both of you, get over here! You’ll catch greencough covered in all that water!” 

From a tall cracked stump in the center of camp, Nutstar watched the two kits scramble out of the water with a smile. She stretched out on the stump and let the sun soak through her fur. The winter had been cold, and everyone was enjoying the first signs of spring. Bearclaw and Vetcheye put a few mice on the plump, wet freshkill pile. Morningshine was chattering away with Stonestep as the two groomed each other outside the warrior’s den. Nutstar’s deputy, Hazelear, chatted with Eiderburr and Riverwhisker about the positive outcome of Grassleaf’s trial regarding SealClan claims of border crossing and prey stealing. Even the perpetually gloomy Rainsong smiled at the sunbeams glittering through the spruces and pines.

Yes, it was indeed a brilliant day in ElkClan, but nowhere near as brilliant as the counselor and story-keeper cheering and racing outside the nursery in a fashion highly unbecoming of a full member of ElkClan, yet perfectly in character for those who knew them.

“New kits means new apprentices which means more chances of becoming a mentor!” Cardinalblaze squealed, bouncing around the equally amped-up Frogbelly. “Which means that yours truly is one step closer to becoming the leader of ElkClan!” He put a paw to his chest and posed dramatically.

“If one of the kits wants to be a story-keeper, I’m sure Mom would love it if you mentored them!” Frogbelly chirped. “I’m just excited to be a big brother again! Kits are so amazing! StarClan’s little gifts!”

“You didn’t say that when you were an apprentice cleaning the nursery nests,” Cardinalblaze chuckled, sitting. He glanced at the nursery, where the clan’s seer, Spiderstorm, paced back and forth, carving a ditch in the soft ground.

“Why can’t Cranefeather handle the kitting?” Spiderstorm groaned, staring at his paws. “Stoatpool’s kitting was horrible, could Saltpaw handle it if Mom has complications too?”

“Saltpaw’s nearly a healer, scaredy-mouse,” Cardinalblaze scoffed. “She can handle a few kits.” A deep moan echoed through the nursery. Frogbelly flinched, closing his eyes.

“Nearly, mouse-brain,” Spiderstorm huffed. “Nearly is the important word there.”

“Oh I can’t listen to her like that,” Frogbelly groaned. “I need to take a walk. Oh, but what if the kits come and I’m not here to welcome them into the world? They’ll be here any second!” A black and white tom crawled out of the holy den. His long fur caught in the puddles. He carried a long stick in his mouth.

“Cranefeather, can’t you give her something?” Spiderstorm groaned as Cranefeather trotted towards the nursery. “There’s gotta be something you can do. Maybe Saltpaw’s forgetting something that could help.”

“Allpah’s gah is,” Cranefeather huffed through the stick. He squirmed past Spiderstorm into the dark nursery. Cardinalblaze frowned. He hopped in front of Spiderstorm and placed his paws on his head.

“Shake out those nerves, Spiderstorm,” Cardinalblaze declared, shaking Spiderstorm’s head back and forth. Spiderstorm hissed and scrambled back.

“Personal space, Cardy,” Frogbelly chuckled, gently headbutting Cardinalblaze’s shoulder.

“Just because the warrior code doesn’t forbid hunting in the outer regions doesn’t mean it is allowed,” a familiar monotone voice grunted from the story-keeper’s den across the camp. Berryfrost strolled into the sun, shaking out his thin silver coat. Another cat followed him out of the den. He was a cream colored tabby, but large chunks of his fur were gone, showing scarred pink skin underneath. The scars coated his legs and chest, crawling across his face, leaving behind a mess of an ear and a nightmare of a cheek. A dilated, murky eye sat lazily in his skull while his golden eye seemed to scan the camp with pinprick focus. Spiderstorm’s neck fur fluffed up. It was Adderscar.

“That’s exactly what it means,” Adderscar explained, walking in time with Berryfrost’s pawsteps. “If our ancestors didn’t bother to clarify something, why should we pretend they disliked it?”

“We have claimed territory for a reason,” Berryfrost sighed. “We mark the borders that do not connect to another clan with the same level of respect as the SealClan or PuffinClan border.”

“Berryfrost!” Frogbelly called, waving his tail. “Brantwing’s kits are coming any minute now! Come on over!” Berryfrost’s ears perked up. He and Adderscar trotted over to the three toms gathered outside the nursery. Frogbelly licked Berryfrost’s ear as he sat beside him, and the taller tom leaned into his mate’s fluffy fur. Adderscar walked past Cardinalblaze and Frogbelly towards the entrance of the nursery. Spiderstorm jumped in front of him.

“Cranefeather and Saltpaw need space to help Brantwing,” Spiderstorm hissed. “Whatever you need can wait.”

“You’d deny a cat a visit to his mother?” Adderscar gasped, paw to his chest. “I won’t bother the kitting. I’m only going to see Darkheart.”

“You can wait!” Darkheart yowled from inside the nursery. Cardinalblaze snorted, covering his nose with his tail. Adderscar glared at him. Spiderstorm knew Adderscar was blind in his burnt eye, but it seemed to carry an awareness that made Spiderstorm’s fur spike.

“Have you seen my father?” Frogbelly asked.

“He went to check out a possible loner in the territory,” Berryfrost explained. “He should be back soon.”

“No worries, fuzzball!” Cardinalblaze declared, nudging Frogbelly. “He’ll get to see them soon!” A tiny yowl broke through the tension. It was soft, yes, but a powerful yowl for something fresh into the world. Cardinalblaze smiled wide. Spiderstorm sighed deeply.

“The first one’s here!” Frogbelly cheered. “I have to see them!”

“Frogbelly, hold on,” Spiderstorm stammered, but Frogbelly charged ahead and stuck his head into the nursery just as Brantwing groaned again.

“The second one’s coming soon,” Saltpaw said from inside. Frogbelly stepped back. His face was frozen in a gleeful smile.

“Well, I’m scarred for life!” he chirped, making blank eye contact with Spiderstorm.

“Why don’t you grab the ball of moose fur from the holy den?” Spiderstorm chuckled, a tail over Frogbelly’s back. “I can’t do proper birth predictions without a piece of our clan namesake.” Frogbelly nodded stiffly. He stumbled away, blinking violently. His paws caught underneath him and he tripped into one of the puddles scattering the camp. Weaselkit, who was nestled between Stoatpool’s paws for a thorough cleaning, burst out laughing. 

“The poor goody four paws faints at the first sight of blood and he thought he could handle a kitting?” Adderscar scoffed.

“Maybe put yourself to use and go find Bounceface,” Cardinalblaze suggested.

“Someone say my name?” someone called from the camp entrance. A brown tabby marched into camp with his head held high, ears flicking. Unlike Adderscar, Bounceface was the epitome of handsome. Thick fur, stunning stripes, and bright eyes, Bounceface was the sort of story-keeper you’d want defending you in a trial. How could anyone distrust such a face?

“Dad!” Spiderstorm called, running over to the tom. “Mom’s having her kits.” Bounceface’s tail shot up.

“They’re coming?” he gasped. “Cranefeather said they would come in a quarter moon!”

“One of them’s already been born,” Spiderstorm explained.

“Any news of that loner the border patrol scented?” Berryfrost asked.

“I smelled it too,” Bounceface stammered, brushing past the younger toms. “A molly. We can discuss that later, I need to see my mate!” Cranefeather strolled out of the nursery. Saltpaw, a fluffy white molly, followed him with a bounce in her step and a grin on her face.

“You did very well, Saltpaw,” Cranefeather praised his apprentice. He noticed Spiderstorm and Bounceface across the camp. “Bounceface, are you and your son ready to meet your new kin?” Bounceface bolted across the camp, splashing through the puddles. Spiderstorm twirled around the wet mess and hurried in. Their long tails slipped into the dark. Cardinalblaze took a few steps inside, but Saltpaw hopped in front of him.

“Kin only right now,” she said. “Give them some time.” Cardinalblaze huffed and plopped in front of the entrance, head between his paws.

“I’m going to talk to Nutstar,” Cranefeather explained. “I think you’re ready for your healer name.”

“Are you sure?” Saltpaw stammered, turning to her mentor. “I haven’t seen half of the things you’ve seen.”

“You’re more than ready,” Cranefeather assured her. Saltpaw’s ears perked up.

“Maybe now you can stop mooning over Partridgeleg from afar,” Adderscar chuckled. Cranefeather stiffened. The molly in question was just outside the warrior’s den grooming herself. She nibbled at an itch just above the stump of her missing back leg. Despite the awkward angle, in Cranefeather’s eyes, she was as beautiful as ever. Adderscar couldn’t see it.

“I don’t know what you mean, Adderscar,” Cranefeather coughed.

“The only reason she’s not in there,” Adderscar scoffed, pointing his tail into the nursery, “is because you respect the code too much to take a mate before Saltpaw finished her training. If she’s not your mate in a moon, I’m going to lose a bet with Roachspring, and you don’t want to lose a bet against Roachspring, trust me.” Cranefeather scratched the ground, purposefully not looking at Adderscar or Partridgeleg.

“I’m gonna get some borage for Brantwing,” Saltpaw muttered, slipping around Cranefeather. 

Meanwhile, Bounceface and Spiderstorm stepped into the warm nursery. Darkheart paced around Brantwing, her long fur catching on loose moss and the remains of twigs. Her kit, Scaupkit, was fast asleep in her nest, kicking her little legs in a dream. Brantwing’s black and white fur was a mess, but in her mind, it was all worth it for the two tiny toms squirming at her belly. One was pitch black, just like Spiderstorm, while the other looked just like Bounceface.

“The black one has some lungs on him,” Brantwing chuckled. Purrs erupted around the nursery. Bounceface curled up around Brantwing, never taking his eyes off the kits. Spiderstorm touched his forehead to Brantwing’s head, his anxiety slipping away.

“They’re wonderful, Brantwing,” Bounceface purred, resting his chin on his mate.

“I’m going to get their birth predictions done fast so you can rest,” Spiderstorm said.

“Slow down,” Brantwing laughed. “We need to pick names. I want this to be a family decision, since these two are the newest members of our family. Where’s Frogbelly?”

“Getting the moose fur,” Spiderstorm sighed. He gently poked the brown kit with his paw. The little thing squirmed, pressing deeper into Brantwing. “They’re little miracles, Mom.”

“Hello!” a harsh and crackly voice laughed. Bounceface, Darkheart, Brantwing, and Spiderstorm jumped, turning towards the voice at the back of the nursery. Roachspring stuck his entire head inside the nursery through the wall. Thorns were stuck in his long gray fur.

“Roachspring, what are you doing?” Spiderstorm hissed.

“I was outside the camp, saw the hole, checked it out,” Roachspring said, tilting his head. “The kits came, fun! They aren’t really miracles though. Kits are born all the time! I caught a mouse with two heads once, now that is a miracle.”

“Go away!” Bounceface yowled.

“Better tell Hazelear the nursery needs fixed,” Roachspring sang, pulling his head out of the hole. Spiderstorm shivered and looked back at his new brothers.

“Please don’t grow up and be like him,” he whispered. The black kit squealed loudly before going right back to suckling.

“Oh my whiskers, oh my whiskers they’re here!” Frogbelly scrambled into the nursery with the moose fur in his mouth.

“Hey, careful!” Darkheart spat. “I tell the kits not to run in here, and I’ll tell you the same!”

“Sorry, Darkheart!” Frogbelly whispered, dropping the fur ball. He crouched down to the kit’s level. “Oh StarClan, they’re perfect! What are their names?”

“We’re deciding as a family,” Brantwing explained, “but I have a name for the black one. Considering how loud he is, I was thinking Thunderkit.”

“I love it!” Frogbelly squealed.

“No idea what I wanna name the brown kit,” Bounceface huffed.

“Oh, you’re probably hungry!” Frogbelly gasped. “You need food so the kits can have milk! I’ll grab you something!” Frogbelly bolted out of the nursery, passing the grumpy Cardinalblaze and the leader’s stump, where Nutstar and Cranefeather were happily chatting and glancing at the holy den, where Saltpaw’s tail stuck out. Frogbelly grabbed a bird from the side of the freshkill pile and hurried back to his mother.

“It’s a little wet,” Frogbelly said as he carried the bird into the nursery. Spiderstorm focused on the freshkill. A brown starling. A starling. Spiderstorm’s pupils dilated, taking up his entire eye.

“Starlingkit,” he muttered as Frogbelly placed the bird at his mother’s side. “The brown tom’s name is Starlingkit.”

“Maybe…” Bounceface sighed.

“It has to be Starlingkit,” Spiderstorm insisted. “He was born to have that name.”

“Starlingkit it is then,” Brantwing chuckled, nosing the newly named Starlingkit.

“If he becomes leader,” Frogbelly laughed, “his name would be Starlingstar. I love that!”

“Just on the borders of blasphemy,” Spiderstorm muttered. He moved the moose fur close to him. “Would you all mind if you left me and Mom alone? Birth predictions are most accurate when I have room to think.”

“Come on, Dad,” Frogbelly chirped. “We need to tell Nutstar!” Frogbelly bounced into the camp while Bounceface trailed after him.

“Congratulations,” Darkheart purred as she slipped past Spiderstorm. The black seer closed his eyes and let the will of StarClan fill him. He didn’t know why he had insisted on the name Starlingkit, but over the moons, he learned to roll with his strange visions and predictions. He carefully padded the moose fur around Starlingkit. The words flowed out of him without thought, but carried weight to them.

“A kind soul,” Spiderstorm breathed, stroking Starlingkit with his tail. “Always putting his clan over his own desires. Ready to lift up a cat in need. Perhaps a counselor? Yet there’s a spark of energy to him that foretells something else. StarClan blesses you, Starlingkit.” Spiderstorm gently licked Starlingkit’s tiny head. He was fast asleep now after his full meal. Thunderkit was still suckling, however, only stopping to let out a noisy mew. Spiderstorm moved the moose fur to Thunderkit. Spiderstorm readied himself for another prediction. A seed of dread blossomed in his gut. The black kit’s mews pierced his brain.

“I know that face,” Brantwing muttered. “Do you see something bad?”

“Cranefeather?” Spiderstorm called, pupils still wide beyond reason. He looked outside the den, where Frogbelly and Bounceface waited for Cranefeather to finish talking with Nutstar. “Cranefeather, come here! Quickly!” Cranefeather’s head snapped around. He leapt across the camp, arriving at the nursery as fast as a falcon. “Something’s wrong with Thunderkit.”

“Is that this black one?” Cranefeather asked, sniffing the kit. “He seems to be suckling well.” Thunderkit squirmed around, a bit of milk dribbling down his chin.

“There’s something very wrong,” Spiderstorm stuttered. “I don’t know what, but I feel it in every part of my body. I was doing my birth predictions and everything went wrong.” Thunderkit’s squealing grew louder. He kicked Starlingkit, who whined softly and drifted back to sleep. 

“Can one of you explain to me why there’s something wrong with Thunderkit?” Brantwing snapped, glancing between the two toms.

“Stay here,” Cranefeather ordered. “I’m going to take Thunderkit into the holy den for a bit and check him out. I’ll take good care of him.”

“Tell me what’s wrong with my son!” Brantwing yowled. Spiderstorm backed up, flank hitting the nursery wall. Cranefeather picked Thunderkit up by the scruff. His mewling was only getting louder. Cranefeather dropped him for a moment.

“He’s much lighter than I expected,” Cranefeather muttered before picking him up again.

“He’s not okay,” Spiderstorm stammered, head filling with visions of doom. He was falling, spinning in a deep hole of loss. A thunderous roar, mournful yowls, and eyes. So many eyes, opening all around him and judging him. Light opened up underneath him. His fur buffeted against the wind.

“ We have a duty to keep him safe, ” someone grunted in the chaos. The watching eyes burned through his pelt.

That may seem dramatic, but to any other cat, Spiderstorm was staring blank eyed into the nursery as Cranefeather rushed out with Thunderkit. He nearly tripped on Cardinalblaze, but quickly regained his balance.

“Can someone tell me what’s wrong?” Cardinalblaze snapped. Frogbelly and Bounceface watched Cranefeather bolt across camp. Bounceface beat Cranefeather to the holy den in a blind sprint. Frogbelly scrambled to the nursery. Berryfrost and Adderscar took in the chaos with pulled back ears and confused looks.

“New kits to terrorize, woo!” Roachspring cheered as he slipped into camp. Berryfrost and Adderscar shot claws out of their eyes in Roachspring’s direction. “What, bad timing?”

“Mom, Spiderstorm, what’s going on?” Frogbelly asked, trotting into the nursery. Cardinalblaze carefully poked his head inside.

“Woah, someone’s got their head in the stars,” Cardinalblaze gasped, spotting Spiderstorm in the corner.

“Spiderstorm, I’m here,” Frogbelly whispered, pressing against Spiderstorm’s pelt. “Whatever you’re seeing isn’t happening right now.” Spiderstorm’s pupils shrunk, turning back into curved slits.

“There’s something wrong with Thunderkit,” Spiderstorm stammered, eyes darting between Brantwing, Frogbelly, and Cardinalblaze. “It’s something you wouldn’t catch until it was too late, I saw it.”

“Didn’t Saltpaw and Cranefeather say the kits were healthy?” Cardinalblaze asked. He finally noticed the sleeping Starlingkit. “Well, aren’t you a mighty future story-keeper?”

“Cardinalblaze, not now,” Spiderstorm hissed. “We need to head over to the holy den.”

“Brantwing?” Saltpaw slipped around the corner, ears drooping. Her tail caught in the puddles. The dread in Spiderstorm’s chest filled the hearts of everyone in the nursery.

“Do you know what’s wrong with Thunderkit?” Frogbelly asked. Saltpaw opened and closed her mouth, searching for the right words.

“Cranefeather told me even when a kit isn’t stillborn,” Saltpaw explained in a quiet voice, “sometimes, despite the health of their littermates and mother, despite seeming healthy a heartbeat ago, they still just…” A loud yowling cry stabbed the air from the direction of the holy den. Every cat in ElkClan knew what that meant.

Saltpaw didn’t need to finish her sentence.

StarClan cried a thousand tears when Thunderkit joined their ranks. Somehow, Rainsong still managed to cry a thousand and one tears (despite not being related to Thunderkit and his family at all; that’s just how she was). There were no stories to share at his vigil, because his time in ElkClan had been so short. They buried him just beyond the camp, because he had no favorite spot in the forest. The queens kept their kits close and away from Brantwing and Starlingkit, who moved to the back of the nursery.

When it came to mourning, Spiderstorm and Frogbelly took after their parents in unique ways. Brantwing, an every sturdy warrior, poured herself into Starlingkit, spending all her time grooming and cleaning their nest and spreading the pine needles Spiderstorm brought her around him like a protective charm. Since Frogbelly had no kits, he poured his soul into his clanmates. He and Rainsong went around to every mourning queen and nervous kit in the clan and let them share their fears. Rainsong’s chronic crying stirred mournful wails in many of the queens like a disease, but they always seemed better after a long cry. Bounceface wasn’t as strong as his mate. He roamed the territory, a nervous wreck, yelling at the gathering clouds about how he barely got to meet his son. Spiderstorm was also a wreck. He stayed curled up in the back of the holy den in deep panic. Whether that fear was StarClan sent or his generally jumpy nature combined with the horrible events was anyone’s guess.

Yet despite the horror, life in ElkClan continued on. The snows of winter were now the heavy rains of early spring. Most cats mourned the loss of one of their own and continued on. Cardinalblaze was in a strange category of his own as he stalked the forest a few days after the kitting with his brother at his side. It was far from a pleasant arrangement.

“Why would I want my body to go to waste underground?” Roachspring scoffed. “To feed some trees? No, I want my body to get tossed in the open. Have the crows tear apart my corpse! That way I can come back to life as a crow and peck out the eyes of the other clans!”

“I thought you wanted to be a cockroach after you died,” Cardinalblaze grumbled, squinting through the rain, “even though, you know, cats go to StarClan or the Eternal Tide when they die.” His long fur was plastered against his body. He shivered as he moved through the overgrowth. All the smart prey was hiding from the weather.

“Yeah, but you’ve told me plenty of stories about reincarnated cats!” Roachspring chirped. “If a SealClan warrior can become a CliffClan seer, then why can’t an ElkClan warrior become a crow? Oo, mouse!” Roachspring crouched into a hunting stalk. He slipped around a spruce, tail straight as a crow’s flight. Cardinalblaze tried not to groan as he tasted the air. The rain made all the scents of the forest blur together. It didn’t help that Roachspring was one of the smelliest cats Cardinalblaze knew. 

He could have gone hunting alone. He didn’t need Hazelear assigning him to a hunting patrol of two. He should be in the story-keeper’s den, coming up with a new story. Perhaps one about Thunderkit being reincarnated? No, he would just be copying off Silverkit’s Second Life. But if he didn’t come up with new stories to entertain future generations, clan life would be so boring! ElkClan needed something to cheer them up. A good story was just as effective, maybe even better, than a whole clan of counselors.

Cardinalblaze’s paws sunk into the thick mud. He’d found the Mud Pools. The training ground was overflowing with mud from the days of rain. Fresh paw prints trailed to Cardinalblaze’s left. From the smell of it, Drizzlecloud took her apprentice Sorrelpaw out for some rainy day battle techniques. That meant they probably scared away any prey lurking around there. 

Cardinalblaze stayed at the edge of the clearing. He dug his claws into the nearest pine tree and started to climb. The forest scents began to clear. Finally, some prey! A squirrel huddled at the end of a branch, nibbling on a frost covered acorn. Cardinalblaze pulled himself onto the branch and slowly stalked towards the squirrel. His belly grumbled.

“Cardinalblaze, I‘m cold!” Roachspring moaned. The squirrel looked up from its meal. No! Cardinalblaze launched at the squirrel. He managed to pin its fluffy tail to the branch and deliver the killing blow. While the squirrel’s family wouldn’t be pleased, Cardinalblaze had an idea who might be.

“Roachspring, you nearly scared off my catch!” Cardinalblaze shouted from the pine. Roachspring trotted into the Mud Pools, dangling a thin mouse by its tail.

“Let’s head back to camp before we turn into catsicles!” Roachspring yowled.

“Cat… icicle…” Cardinalblaze muttered. “You actually made a pleasant joke!”

“Do you think someone would die if an icicle fell on them?” Roachspring asked. “Would it shatter or impale them?”

“And you ruined it,” Cardinalblaze grumbled, picking up the squirrel and jumping from the tree.

Back in the ElkClan camp, Bounceface sat at the edge of the story-keeper’s den with a soaked vole, trying to stay out of the rain as he watched the clan gather around the stump. Saltpaw sat in front of the stump, looking up at Nutstar. Cranefeather and Hazelear sat on either side of the stump with proud smiles.

“I, Nutstar, leader of ElkClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice,” Nutstar declared through the pouring rain. “She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her as a healer in her turn. Saltpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?” What about the cost of a kit’s life? Was that the price for Saltpaw to get her full name? Bounceface shook the toxic thoughts from his head. How cruel was it, to project the pain of a lost child onto someone not at fault?

“I do,” Saltpaw sighed.

“Then by the powers of StarClan,” Nutstar declared, “I give you your healer name. Saltpaw, from this moment on, you shall be known as Saltfrost. StarClan honors your wisdom and strength, and we welcome you as a full healer of ElkClan.” Nutstar hopped off the stump and rested her muzzle on Saltfrost’s head. Saltfrost licked Nutstar’s shoulder as the clan began to cheer her new name. Frogbelly strutted out of the crowd and touched his nose to Saltfrost’s cheek. The young molly’s ears perked up as Frogbelly approached. Bounceface smiled. He wasn’t shocked how quickly Frogbelly abandoned any grudges against Saltfrost. He wished he was as kind as his son.

Meanwhile, his other son was behaving in a similar manner inside the holy den, curled in his nest at the back of the holy den. A small stream crossed through the back of the den as a fresh source of water. Spiderstorm lazily watched the stream flow past. He hadn’t felt so horrible in a long time. He seemed stuck in his nest, watching the water, and time, drift past. He hadn’t been that excited for the new kits. An immature, insecure part of him feared Brantwing and Bounceface would forget he was their son once they came into the clan. So why couldn’t be begin to do this job again? Was it the vision he had as Thunderkit squealed in the pain of whatever suffering had been passed down into his blood, eating away his tiny life? Was that just a violent birth prediction of a life that wouldn’t last long? Maybe Spiderstorm had finally lost it. Maybe he would never be able to do anything again. He’d be shuffled off to the elder’s den and forgotten.

He wanted to talk to Frogbelly. He wanted to check on Brantwing. He’d settle for debating the code with Berryfrost, maybe even tolerate Adderscar’s presence. But there he was, staring at the stream, unblinking and utterly exhausted by the stampede of feelings flooding through him.

While the two toms were moping about in their dens, Cardinalblaze and Roachspring trotted into camp with their catches. Cats were still congratulating Saltfrost on her new name. As soon as they crossed the camp threshold, they parted ways, heading towards surprising locations. When Vetcheye saw Roachspring head to the nursery, he was certain he was going to eat a kit.

Roachspring stepped into the nursery with dripping wet fur and muddy paws. Stoatpool, Darkheart, and Brantwing curled in their nests, watching Scaupkit play moss ball with Weaselkit and Pondkit. Stoatpool looked up at the bulky tom and pressed her ears against her head.

“I have fresh kill!” Roachspring chirped, dropping the mouse.

“Roachspring, did you see anything gross outside camp today?” Weaselkit gasped, scrambling over to Roachspring.

“Lots of mud,” Roachspring giggled. He wiped his muddy paw over Weaselkit’s tiny head. The kit collapsed in a fit of giggles.

“Wonderful, now you need groomed again,” Stoatpool grumbled.

“I see Hazelear finally got someone to fix that hole in the back!” Roachspring laughed. He shook out his fur, sprinkling the queens. Pondkit giggled when a drop hit her nose. Roachspring picked the mouse up and delivered it to Brantwing’s side. “A meal for the new mother!”

“Thank you, Roachspring,” Brantwing sighed. She leaned over and licked Starlingkit’s head. The little kit was sound asleep, likely dreaming of milk and play.

“You’ll be a mighty little warrior, won’t you?” Roachspring giggled, flicking his ears.

“He’ll be whatever he wants to be,” Brantwing huffed, “so long as he’s loved.”

“Enjoy your mouse!” Roachspring chirped. He sprung out of the nursery with a friendly wave of his tail.

“I do not trust that tom,” Stoatpool hissed.

“He may be…” Darkheart sighed, “eccentric, but he’s your clanmate. From what I’ve heard, no one matches him in a battle. He’ll jump in without fear and save your life, regardless of what you think of him.” Darkheart looked at Weaselkit, Pondkit, and Scaupkit, who were all watching Roachspring leave. “Take this lesson to heart, kits. You may meet many strange cats in ElkClan, but your clanmates are your clanmates. If we do not support one another, the clan will surely fall.”

“Can he be my mentor?” Weaselkit asked.

“Absolutely not,” Stoatpool snapped.

While Roachspring delivered his mouse, Cardinalblaze made his way to the holy den. The large bush den was covered in empty nests for sick and injured cats. Herbs and plants sat in neat, organized piles in a small dip in the ground. The seer’s part of the den was in the back, beyond the extra nests, near the stream. Cardinalblaze left a trail of muddy paw prints behind him as he trotted over to Spiderstorm, curled in his nest. Cardinalblaze shook out the water from his coat. Spiderstorm hissed and scrambled up.

“Ugh, StarClan, why?” he spat, glaring at Cardinalblaze. He set the squirrel down.

“You seemed stuck in your head,” he explained. “I brought you a squirrel.”

“Put it in the fresh kill pile,” Spiderstorm grunted, laying back down.

“No, it’s for you,” Cardinalblaze insisted. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“I don’t know,” Spiderstorm groaned, paws over his head. “I can’t think right now.”

“Don’t think, eat!” Cardinalblaze chirped.

“You’re insufferable,” Spiderstorm scoffed. He dragged the squirrel closer. Cardinalblaze sat beside him.

“You’ve got a healthy little sibling, a wonderful littermate, and parents who love you,” Cardinalblaze sighed, scratching at the dirt. “It’s horrible that Thunderkit died, but you’ve got moons of memories waiting for you with the rest of your family.”

“That’s terrible counseling,” Spiderstorm growled. 

“Well excuse me for trying to cheer you up,” Cardinalblaze huffed.

“Okay, I get I’m allowed to be sad over this, but I feel pretty pathetic right now and I don’t need you treating me like a kit,” Spiderstorm snapped. “I feel like the entire clan got slaughtered, and, and I barely understand why. Kits don’t survive their first day all the time. I feel like everything is suddenly intense, like when the sea’s calm one minute and raging the next. I think StarClan is trying to tell me something.”

“By making you feel bad?” Cardinalblaze asked.

“They send signs through feelings more than you’d think,” Spiderstorm explained. He took a bite out of the squirrel. Cardinalblaze gasped softly.

“I know just what to do,” Cardinalblaze cheered, hopping to his feet. “Finish your meal, I’m taking you to the Log Tunnel.”

“Why?” Spiderstorm asked.

“You need to get out of camp,” Cardinalblaze explained, “and we can stay out of the rain there. Eat faster!”

“I feel like I can barely move, and you tell me to eat faster,” Spiderstorm scoffed. “I blame you when I choke on this squirrel.”

While Spiderstorm finished his meal, the rest of the clan began to fade away from their congratulations and return to their duties. Those who didn’t have something to do scurried into their dens. Adderscar was one of the first to scramble for his nest. He dove into the moss and ferns, groaning as the rain dripped off of him. At least it felt nice on his scars. Bounceface was still watching the camp from the edge of the den with a half eaten vole. Eiderburr and Stonestep moved past him for their nests near the back. If they noticed Bounceface, they didn’t care. Adderscar did notice and he definitely didn’t care. The death of a kit was a part of life. If Bounceface didn’t do his job, he would get in trouble. Adderscar would gladly point out his mopey nature in a trial.

If Adderscar was hoping for a nap, he was out of luck. Hazelear slipped into the den, flicking water off her ears and tail. She looked around the den like a cat on a mission. Adderscar pretended he was a rock.

“Adderscar, Bounceface,” Hazelear called. “I have a job for you.” Adderscar bit back a groan and sat up. Bounceface stood too, shoving his vole to the side. “As story-keepers, you both have a special knowledge of loners and outsiders that ElkClan has interacted with, more so than the others.”

“Thanks for telling us what we already know,” Adderscar grumbled.

“Our border patrols keep scenting that molly near the outer regions,” Hazelear explained, ignoring Adderscar. “I want you both to go out there and see if you can find her. Go a bit into the outer regions if you have too, but not too far. Nutstar wants to know if this is someone the clan’s met before or if it’s a wandering loner who doesn’t know our ways.”

“Go out in this weather?” Bounceface asked. “Even the elk are sheltering today.”

“The clan never rests,” Hazelear sighed. “Let me know if you find anything.” Hazelear hurried out of the den, going over to the warrior’s den.

“Our deputy gets to sleep while we freeze our tails off,” Adderscar yawned. Bounceface buried his unfinished vole just outside the den. “Let’s get this done fast. Then you can go back to mourning.” Bounceface glared at Adderscar as the younger tom scurried towards the clan entrance, where Berryfrost sat as a dutiful guard. At the same time, Brantwing trotted across the camp towards the dirt place, and Spiderstorm trudged out of the holy den with Cardinalblaze.

“You stay out here any longer, Berryfrost, you’ll be covered in frost,” Cardinalblaze laughed as Spiderstorm slipped out of camp.

“I dry much faster than you,” Berryfrost huffed, either missing Cardinalblaze’s joke or taking the high ground and ignoring it. Cardinalblaze just flicked his ears and left camp.

Spiderstorm’s paws caught in the mud as he walked through the territory. The rain flattened his ears. Why did he agree to this? Cardinalblaze ran ahead of him, stopping to let him catch up before running off again. How could anyone have the energy to run? Luckily, the Log Tunnel was in the middle of ElkClan territory, so it wouldn’t be a long walk.

The famed Log Tunnel was the hollow shell of a dead pine. It must have been an ancient tree, as it was the length of three elk! The bark had withered over time, but the interior wood had been mostly spared. Cobwebs climbed and beetles crawled inside the tunnel. The few holes in the roof made tiny puddles where worms and ants drowned. It was tall enough for even a big cat like Cardinalblaze and long enough for both the story-keeper and the seer to settle in comfortably.

Cardinalblaze charged in first, clearing out the few cobwebs that had collected since the last cats entered the tunnel. Spiderstorm stumbled inside, squishing a big beetle. The two toms shook out their pelts, splattering the remaining cobwebs and bugs. Spiderstorm plopped down and tucked his muddy paws under him.

“Alright, what now?” Spiderstorm sighed.

“Well…” Cardinalblaze hummed, sitting. “How about a story?”

“What am I, three moons old?” Spiderstorm scoffed.

“It’ll be fun,” Cardinalblaze whined. “How about Beepaw and the Hive ? You loved that story as an apprentice, right?”

“That was Berryfrost,” Spiderstorm corrected. Cardinalblaze’s tail drooped. Spiderstorm sighed. “ Beepaw and the Hive ’s fine.”

“Wonderful!” Cardinalblaze cheered. He waved his paws around, dramatically shaping the story in the air. “Many moons ago, there was a young tom named Beepaw…”

Back in the ElkClan camp, a loud sneeze erupted through the holy den. Sunfang jutted from his nest and plopped back down with a groan. Saltfrost padded around him, adding dry moss to his nest. A few drops of water dripped through the thick roof.

“I have a cowslip root you could chew on, or a poultice,” Saltfrost sighed. “Take your pick.”

“I’ll take whichever gets me to stop sneezing,” Sunfang huffed. “I have a border patrol.”

“You aren’t going back into this rain,” Cranefeather grunted from his corner of the holy den as he carefully sorted out fresh cobwebs. “You’ll only get worse in the cold.”

“I’ll be, be,” Sunfang stammered. He sneezed again, making Saltfrost jump. 

“Let’s do that root,” Saltfrost purred. She padded over to the large arrangement of herbs and plants carefully sitting in large leaves. “We could use some honey. Sunfang’s only the beginning of a sneezing epidemic if this rain continues.”

“I could ask Bearclaw to track down a hive when he’s out,” Cranefeather suggested. Brantwing padded into the holy den, her belly still large and loose from the kitting.

“Oh, Brantwing!” Saltfrost chirped. “Do you need more borage? I may be able to spare some.”

“My milk’s just fine, thank you,” Brantwing groaned. “I actually have a bellyache. I was nursing Starlingkit and my stomach suddenly got a clan’s worth of kinks in it.”

“You’re in luck,” Cranefeather chuckled. “Frogbelly helped me get an ivy leaf’s worth of mallow leaves from SealClan a quarter moon ago.” Cranefeather clawed a couple fuzzy leafs out of one of his neat piles.

“What do you think caused it?” Saltfrost asked.

“I just ate a mouse,” Brantwing explained. “Could that be it?”

“It’s likely,” Cranefeather sighed. “Eat these leaves for me. If you still feel bad in a while, come back. Actually, send Darkheart if you feel worse. You should stay with Starlingkit.” Brantwing bent down and ate the leaves. Her sharp teeth tore through them, making her take big, awkward bites.

“If you’re not going to give me anything, I’l just leave,” Sunfang snapped.

“You stay there,” Saltfrost huffed. She grabbed the last cowslip root and passed it to Sunfang. “Chew that for a while.” Sunfang nibbled on the root as Brantwing turned to go. “Brantwing, wait.” Brantwing looked over her shoulder. Saltfrost shuffled her paws. “I want to say I’m sorry about Thunderkit. I should have noticed something was wrong.”

“Thanks to you, I still have one wonderful kit to nurse,” Brantwing sighed. “You carry no blame.” With a gentle smile, Brantwing stalked back to the nursery and her tiny mewling son.

Outside the camp, Adderscar and Bounceface moved between the thick trees and heavy mud towards the lightly forested plains that belonged to no clan. Adderscar paused every few tail-lengths to taste the air.

“I don’t see how we can scent anyone in this weather,” Adderscar grumbled.

“Someone’s invading clan territory, and they need to know it belongs to ElkClan,” Bounceface huffed.

“Let’s go back,” Adderscar whined. “We’ll tell Hazelear it was too wet to spot anyone and try again when it’s drier. I know you don’t want to be out here either.”

“Actually, I do,” Bounceface grunted, rubbing an itchy ear against his shoulder. “I prefer it to everyone ignoring me because I’m ‘mourning’. Despite what you think, it’s not pleasant.”

“Oh, a bit of a bite,” Adderscar giggled. “I can see where Spiderstorm gets it from.”

“My son and I are not your source of amusement,” Bounceface hissed, stalking further towards the border.

“Here I thought we were making light conversation,” Adderscar grumbled, tasting the air once again. He perked up his ears. “We’re closer to the PuffinClan border than we thought. I can smell their bird breath from here.”

“The rain has us turned around in our own home,” Bounceface growled.

“The Bear Cave is nearby,” Adderscar noted. “We can take shelter there and regroup.”

“It’s early spring, the bear may still be there,” Bounceface snapped as Adderscar hurried closer to the border.

“You must not have noticed since, you know, your kit died,” Adderscar huffed, “but Sunfang, Shovelerthroat, and Drizzlecloud came back from patrol that day and reported that the bear had moved on for the year. We’ll be fine.”

The Bear Cave sat within a large hill that climbed across the ElkClan/PuffinClan border. Should a CliffClan cat stumble upon it, they would be insulted that something made of hard dirt and moss was called a cave. But a cave it was, for cats and other creatures alike. Now, the cave is often avoided in the winter, as deep within, a brown bear dreams the snow away until the warm weather returns and it stumbles off to terrorize something else. Many cats have tried to name the bear before, with names like ‘Brownfang’, ‘Kit-Eater’, and ‘GREAT STARCLAN RUN’ all being top contenders. However, most simply called it The Bear, and everyone knew what they meant.

“I can even justify waiting around the PuffinClan border for you,” Adderscar sighed as he ran into the cave. “If a patrol comes by, we can ask the story-keepers if they’ve encountered any molly loners recently.” Bounceface grimaced, and followed Adderscar into the cave’s shadow. Adderscar sat in the center of the cave and groomed the few patches of fur on his shoulder. Bounceface paced around the edge, watching the branches shiver in the harsh rain. While it was nearly impossible to tell Adderscar’s intentions, the cream tom could read Bounceface’s mind. Metaphorically or literally, he’d never say.

“Have you lost kin before now?” Adderscar asked. Bounceface glanced at Adderscar. He laid by the cave’s edge, tail flicking.

“I never knew my father,” Bounceface sighed. “I was an only kit, and Stiltpelt is my mother. So no, I haven’t lost kin before Thunderkit. I’ve been lucky.”
“You remember the day I lost my littermates,” Adderscar muttered. Bounceface nodded. Adderscar chuckled softly. “Cardinalblaze named the story the Fire of the Long Heat. From what I’ve heard, the name caught on in CliffClan. I think, if Boulderpaw and Volepaw had survived that fire, I would be a different cat. More well liked, perhaps. More respectful of the code. I don’t wish I died instead of them, of course. My life is my own, and I’m grateful to StarClan that I can live it.” Bounceface’s ears flattened. He tucked his paws underneath himself. “Oh, I see. Is that what you wish happened with you and Thunderkit?”

“Stay out of my head, Adderscar,” Bounceface spat, jumping and stalking towards the younger story-keeper. “Spiderstorm told me what you used to do to him, I won’t put up with a similar treatment!”
“I can’t help that I notice things others do not,” Adderscar grunted.

“But you can put your tail in your mouth and shut it!” Bounceface hissed. A raspy, loud, high pitched scream shot from the back of the cave. The two toms shot to attention, claws out, looking for the source.

“Was that the bear?” Bounceface gasped. The thing screamed again. Adderscar could just make out the outline of a creature the size of two full grown cats curled up in the back of the den. Its face and ears were round and its paws were big compared to its size. It laid in a makeshift nest of twigs and moss, screaming at Bounceface and Adderscar.

“It’s a bear cub,” Adderscar realized.

“It’s more scared of us than we are of it,” Bounceface sighed, sheathing his claws. It took a few seconds for their blessed memories to catch up on everything they knew about the bears of the clans. At approximately the same time, Bounceface and Adderscar made the same realizations.

Number one: the bear seen by ElkClan had had cubs before. When Bounceface was just a kit, a patrol spotted the beast leading three tiny cubs through the forest. Therefore, the bear was likely the mother to the little screaming cub.

Number two: The few times cubs have ever been seen, they were with a full grown bear. That bear would attack anything that even thought about its cubs in an unpleasant way.

Number three: despite the sighting of one patrol, bears do not operate on the clan’s schedule.

Bounceface and Adderscar made eye contact. Now they really could read each other’s minds. Keeping their breath steady, they looked over their shoulders.

Mother had come home.

Leaving the toms for now, in the ElkClan nursery, Cranefeather sniffed Brantwing’s breath as the queen curled deeper into her nest with a groan. Starlingkit slept peacefully at Darkheart’s belly, much to the annoyance of Scaupkit. Stoatpool and Darkheart carefully watched their friend. Brantwing lapped at the wet moss Cranefeather brought her, but only managed a lick before she groaned again.

“That mouse was definitely sick,” Cranefeather groaned. “For your sake, I think you’ll have to vomit it out. I’ll be back with some yarrow.” Cranefeather scurried out of the nursery back towards the holy den. Shovelerthroat and Roachspring had joined Sunfang in the nests, both shivering and sneezing. Saltfrost slipped around them with the skill of a much older healer, puffing up their nests and purring softly. Cranefeather scanned through the rows of herbs. He preferred to keep the yarrow next to the rosemary, but that spot was oddly empty.

“Saltfrost, where’s the yarrow?” Cranefeather asked.

“We used it on Stiltpelt’s cracked pads, remember?” Saltfrost explained.

“Oh, is that the vomiting plant?” Roachspring asked, sneezing in the middle of his sentence. “Who’s vomiting today?”

“Brantwing needs it,” Cranefeather huffed. “I think the mouse she ate was sick.” Roachspring cocked his head. Did Cranefeather mean the mouse he gave to Brantwing? “We don’t have nettle seeds, either. I need to collect more, but I want to stay with Brantwing.”

“I can’t get it,” Saltfrost sighed. “I need to help any more cats with the sniffles.” Cranefeather groaned and stuck his head out of the holy den. Who was available that could positively identify yarrow? Berryfrost was sitting by the camp entrance, seemingly unbothered by the cold. Perfect!

“Berryfrost!” he called, running across the camp. Berryfrost snapped out of his thoughts and watched Cranefeather approach. “You know what yarrow looks like, don’t you?”

“I took it upon myself to learn a bit of herbal knowledge from your mentor Fernpelt as an apprentice,” Berryfrost explained.

“Great, because Brantwing needs it,” Cranefeather sighed. “I need you to gather its leaves as quick as you can. There’s a thick patch on the Deer Path by the PuffinClan border.”

“I’m guarding the entrance,” Berryfrost noted.

“You’ll be fine, just go, please,” Cranefeather huffed. Berryfrost nodded and bolted out of the camp. Cranefeather turned back towards the holy den. The parsley wouldn’t be good for Brantwing while she was nursing, but maybe some more juniper berries could help.

While Cranefeather debated herbs, Adderscar and Bounceface were face to face with The Bear. Its golden eyes shone like stars. Its matted fur was soaked and speckled with gray, showing off a long muzzle that could fit Adderscar’s whole body within its jagged yellow teeth. It took up the entire entrance of the cave. It roared, flattening the story-keepers’ ears. Their paws were frozen in the center of the cave. There was no way around it. Bounceface and Adderscar were trapped. They weren’t getting out of this alive.

“What in StarClan do we do now?” Adderscar yowled, tail tucked between his legs. Bounceface’s eyes darted between the bear, the cub, and his clanmate. Over the past few days, he had been walking in a fog. His clan, his family, all existed behind a mist that tripped him and spun him around in his own head. But now, everything was painfully clear. His heart shattered in a fiery blaze that cleared away the mist and left a single path. His paws melted. He didn’t hesitate—he ran down that path.

“Hey, fox-dung!” Bounceface yowled, bolting to the left side of the cave. “Here’s a full meal for you!” The bear roared again, turning towards Bounceface.

“What are you doing, fleabag?” Adderscar screeched. The bear stepped closer to Bounceface. It left a wide opening out of the cave. He could take it. He could run and leave the idiot to fend for himself. He’d be exiled for that, surely. But he’d live. Yet in a move that surprised even Adderscar, he raced towards the bear’s leg. His claws dug into the beast’s pelt and slashed hard and deep, yowling like a cat from the Eternal Tide. Bounceface could run under the bear while it was distracted, then Adderscar could join them. They’d be safe up in a tree. They were small and fast while the bear was slow, they’d be fine!

Adderscar was so focused that, thanks in part to his blind left eye, he didn’t notice the bear’s huge paw. It collided into his chest and threw him out of the cave.

Adderscar was a bird flying through ElkClan territory. It was not a fun experience. Yowling all the way, he took everything in. The thick rain, the pines, the bear. He watched the world through water, slow and stuttering. He saw Bounceface on top of the bear’s head, clawing at its eyes. With another roar, the bear grabbed Bounceface with both paws and dragged him off. The hideous yowls of death and unspeakable pain filled the Bear Cave. Adderscar slammed into the ground, digging a hole in the mud. He spun across the grass, a buzzing in his ears. A thick spruce stopped his spin. Rain mixed with blood and covered his good eye. He stared half conscious at the Bear Cave as the yowls faded away.

Adderscar wasn’t the only one having a bad day. Back at camp, Cranefeather scurried around the nursery, desperately trying to figure out something, anything to help Brantwing as she shook in her nest, moaning. This wasn’t just a rotten mouse, this was a mouse who ate something, and now whatever that was was hurting Brantwing. Multiple ElkClan cats stood outside the nursery watching in confused horror. Darkheart covered Scaupkit and Starlingkit with her tail and hid her face from the gruesome scene. Stoatpool had taken Weaselkit and Pondkit out of the nursery a while ago. Saltfrost had her paws full with the other sick cats, meaning this was all on Cranefeather. Brantwing had to vomit, but how could she without any herbs?

Cranefeather charged at Brantwing and slammed his front paws into her belly. She yowled, claws digging into her nest.

“You’re hurting her!” Darkheart yowled.

“She has to vomit,” Cranefeather huffed as he slammed into Brantwing’s belly again. “If I hit her stomach, it may just work!” He jumped once, twice, three times, each time slamming into Brantwing with as much strength as he safely could. Brantwing shook and vomited beside her nest, shaking. He did it! Brantwing collapsed, shivering and sighing, head dangling out of her nest.

“You have to eat this now,” Cranefeather ordered, scooping a few tansy leaves into Brantwing’s nest. “You have to get the poison out of your system.” Brantwing panted, eyes glittering with strain. Her eyes closed and her body relaxed. Darkheart gasped. “No no no, I got it out of you, Brantwing! Brantwing!” Cranefeather shook Brantwing, but no amount of shaking could save her now.

“And so, Nofur wanders the outer regions, forever searching for someone to keep her warm,” Cardinalblaze said, standing over Spiderstorm in the Log Tunnel. He shivered, gving his chest an awkward lick. “I don’t understand why you like such creepy tales. The Birth of Nofur makes me want to hide in the nursery!”

“I like scary things,” Spiderstorm chuckled. He stood and stretched his back legs. “You had a good idea for once.”

“You’re feeling better?” Cardinalblaze chirped.

“A lot better,” Spiderstorm noted. In fact, he was feeling good enough to border on unusual. The thick grief that filled his heart was gone, as though it was never there. He didn’t feel anything particularly bad at all. The rain that dripped through the holes in the log slowed.

“The rain finally stopping!” Cardinalblaze groaned, spinning and charging out of the log. Spiderstorm followed him out, stretching out his claws. The thunderous rain had calmed to a light sprinkle while they were in the log, though the clouds still covered the sky.

“Hi!” a loud voice squeaked from on top of the log. Spiderstorm yelped and spun around while Cardinalblaze screeched like a dying cat, claws out.

“Sorry, I scare easily!” he stammered. Sitting on top of the Log Tunnel was a black kit, maybe two or three moons old. He smelled strange, like the cool forest and the salt of the sea. He had big blue eyes that caught what little light leaked through the clouds.

“Uh…” Spiderstorm stammered.

“It’s so nice to properly meet you!” the kit chirped. “Do you recognize me? StarClan made me older!”

“StarClan?” Cardinalblaze repeated, moving closer to Spiderstorm.

“Thunderkit?” the seer gasped.

“Yeah!” Thunderkit cheered, tail high. “Are you feeling better?”

“Why are you here?” Spiderstorm stammered.

“Great StarClan, it’s StarClan,” Cardinalblaze stuttered quickly. “It’s actually StarClan!”

“I’m really sorry you had to feel so bad!” Thunderkit whined. “The others said you needed to get it all out so you could do what you needed to do, once everything happened!”

“What do you mean, everything?” Spiderstorm whispered, ears pressed back.

“The six of you need to work together now, okay?” Thunderkit said, mimicking the tone of an old queen. “There’s a lot of potential, but it can’t go to waste thanks to this tragedy. We won’t permit it.”

“Since you never learned to count, I can understand why you think there’s six of us,” Cardinalblaze laughed awkwardly, “but there’s only two cats here.” Thunderkit looked up, smiling.

“Did you hear that?” Thunderkit purred. “It must be meal time. Coming, Mama!” Thunderkit jumped. His feet landed in the air. He started to run, climbing through the sky, higher and higher, a tiny black dot against the dark clouds. With a twinkle, Thunderkit vanished.

“Permission to faint dramatically?” Cardinalblaze gasped. “What was that?” Spiderstorm stared at the sky. He should be scared. Yet, the most he felt was a slight worry digging at the back of his neck. Considering that’s how he always felt, it was very strange.

“Mama?” he whispered. He turned to Cardinalblaze. “We need to get back to camp.”

“Roachspring will lose it when he hears I saw a StarClan cat!” Cardinalblaze gasped.

“This is no time for jokes,” Spiderstorm grunted. “Let’s go.” Spiderstorm sprinted back towards the camp.

“Alright, Spider star,” Cardinalblaze grumbled, running after him.

Across the territory, Berryfrost was starting to get frustrated. The rain letting up made it easier to see what plants lined the tight path near the PuffinClan border, but he still hadn’t found any yarrow! His paws left clear prints in the mud behind him. Did yarrow have yellow petals or white petals? How could he forget now? He had no idea how sick Brantwing was, but Cranefeather seemed worried.

A sharp scent hit his mouth. Blood and mud and something big. Berryfrost stopped, staining to hear something. There was snorting from beyond the trees. Carefully scanning the environment, Berryfrost squeezed between two pines and followed the scent. He was close to the PuffinClan border. Had there been a fight? He was near the Bear Cave. He could see its outline from fox-lengths away. The smell of blood was growing stronger. Had the border patrol been wrong about the bear leaving for the spring?

Berryfrost turned around the trunk of a spruce and froze. Adderscar laid at the base of the tree, blood covering his face. Thick claw wounds crawled across his torso. He was covered in mud. A trail of impact marks led towards the Bear Cave. Adderscar was still breathing, staring at Berryfrost with recognition in his eyes.

“I’m going to get you back to camp,” Berryfrost whispered. “Where is Bounceface?”

“Where do you think?” Adderscar hissed softly, lifting his head slightly before it fell again. Berryfrost glanced at the Bear Cave. Slowly, he stalked to the cave’s side, avoiding the thick piles of mud. The smell of blood was strongest inside. Death coated a familiar scent. Berryfrost looked inside. For the sake of innocence, there’s no description of what Berryfrost saw inside the cave. Only two things needed to be told. The bear and her cub would be fed, and Starlingkit would grow up without a father.

Berryfrost stepped back, carefully watching for any sticks or leftover piles of snow that could alert the bear to his presence. He slowly moved to Adderscar’s side. Gently, Berryfrost nudged Adderscar’s torso. Adderscar bit back a yowl of pain as Berryfrost lifted the scarred tom onto his back. In Berryfrost’s mind, the yarrow could wait. Adderscar needed Cranefeather and Saltfrost. Berryfrost took off down the Deer Path and hurried towards camp.

Out of the two pairs of toms going back to camp, Spiderstorm and Cardinalblaze got to the entrance first. They could hear the cries of mournful cats from outside the bushes. Cardinalblaze’s ears pinned to his head. All Spiderstorm felt was a twinge of sadness, as though his favorite prey wasn’t on the freshkill pile. He led the way into the camp.

“I saw him give Brantwing the mouse that killed her!” Vetcheye screeched. “It’s murder I tell you, murder!” Spiderstorm and Cardinalblaze stepped into the muddy camp. Brantwing’s body lay beside the leader’s stump, covered in old, dried lavender. Frogbelly buried his face into his mother’s pelt. The warriors of ElkClan watched in horror and confusion as Vetcheye stared down Roachspring with a murderous rage, claws digging into the mud. Roachspring looked more confused than anything as Saltfrost sat beside him. Bearclaw and Drizzlecloud watched from the sidelines with odd impartiality, considering their son was being accused of murder.

“Vetcheye, you cannot accuse your clanmates of something like this,” Hazelear growled, stepping in front of the blue story-keeper.

“This is Roachspring we’re talking about!” Vetcheye spat. “He probably gave her crowfood! We all know he’s a filthy crowfood-eater!”

“What can I say, I have a strong stomach,” Roachspring huffed. “But I caught that mouse fair and square. I may be insane, but I’m no murderer.” Roachspring sneezed, nearly falling backwards. Bearclaw dragged his paw over his muzzle.

“You are making a scene,” Hazelear hissed.

“Everytime someone dies, you think it’s murder,” Eiderburr yowled from the crowd.

“Hey, I’m not sure what my brother did or what’s going on,” Cardinalblaze huffed, charging into the crowd to stand by his brother’s side, “but I saw him catch the mouse. It was just fine when he caught it.” Nutstar jumped onto the stump.

“Quiet, all of you!” Nutstar yowled. Vetcheye shrunk and stared wide-eyed at his leader. Frogbelly lifted his face from Brantwing’s pelt. “Hazelear is right. This is a vigil. It is no place for such horrific accusations against a clanmate.”

“He’s the reason Brantwing’s dead!” Vetcheye groaned, waving a paw at Roachspring.

“Roachspring hunted for his clan and fed the queens before himself,” Nutstar sighed. “That is all the warrior code wishes. If the mouse was alive when Roachspring caught it, then he bears no blame in Brantwing’s demise. StarClan has decided she will care for Thunderkit in StarClan.” Nutstar glared at Vetcheye, tail thrashing. “Your paranoia has gotten the better of you. I don’t want to see you outside the story-keeper’s den until Brantwing is buried, understood?” Vetcheye tucked his tail under him. He bent to the ground, nose touching the mud.

“Yes, Nutstar,” Vetcheye grumbled. Vetcheye slunk through the crowd towards the story-keeper’s den. As Spiderstorm got closer to his mother’s body, the clan moved to let him pass. Frogbelly gasped as he spotted his brother. He bolted to Spiderstorm’s side and buried his muzzle in Spiderstorm’s shoulder, sobbing. Spiderstorm rested his head on his brother’s head and stared at his mother’s body. He had gone through the grief of losing both his mother and his new brother before one of their deaths even occurred. But why?

“You actually think I’m innocent?” Roachspring asked, looking at Cardinalblaze.

“Well,” Cardinalblaze stammered, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not gonna let them exile you for nothing. Who would I fight then?”

“Admit it, you care about me,” Roachspring scoffed, gently poking Cardinalblaze. He reared back and let out his mightiest sneeze yet, showering Cardinalblaze in snot.

“Maybe save the brotherly bonding for later,” Saltfrost grumbled, squeezing between the two huge toms. “This is a vigil, for StarClan’s sake.”

“Cranefeather, your assistance is required!” Berryfrost called from the camp entrance. He scrambled into the camp with Adderscar on his back, the other tom’s blood smearing his silver pelt. All eyes turned to the new arrival.

“Great StarClan!” Bearclaw yowled, jumping to his feet. Saltfrost and Cranefeather launched out of the crowd towards Berryfrost.

“Murder!” Vetcheye screeched from the story-keeper’s den.

“Shut it, Vetcheye!” Hazelear spat. Berryfrost gently rolled Adderscar off his back onto Cranefeather. The injured tom had passed out during the run, but Roachspring had a feeling he’d be saying words to make StarClan blush if he was awake.

“Are you hurt?” Saltfrost asked, pawing Berryfrost’s torso.

“This is Adderscar’s blood,” Berryfrost explained. “Despite what the border patrol reported, the bear has not vacated the Bear Cave. It attacked Adderscar, throwing him into a tree.” Drizzlecloud watched Cranefeather carry Adderscar into the holy den with a growing look of horror.

“I sent Bounceface with him,” Hazelear muttered in quiet fear. “Did you see him?”

“In the jaws of the bear,” Berryfrost grumbled. “I didn’t bring back the yarrow—” It may seem difficult for many to imagine not noticing the dead body in the room, but Berryfrost had done just that. He finally spotted Brantwing lying in the center of the camp, Spiderstorm and Frogbelly sitting beside her. The brothers stared at Berryfrost in horror. Somehow, another part of Frogbelly’s shattered heart managed to break. Berryfrost approached Brantwing’s body and sat on the other side of Frogbelly.

Frogbelly screamed. His yowls scared the birds from the pines overhead. The rush of fluttering ravens and cardinals could be seen from CliffClan territory. The mournful wail echoed through camp, all the way into the holy den, where Cranefeather scrambled for supplies as Adderscar lay bleeding in one of the nests. He clawed horsetail and broom leaves out of their piles. A poultice of the two could help with bleeding and any horrible infections from the bear’s claws. He would need a lot for the long claw marks.

“He’ll have a lot of bruises from where he hit the tree,” Saltfrost huffed as she bolted into the den. “I got fresh arnica two days ago, it should be dry by now.”

“We can handle bruising later, I need help chewing up the poultice,” Cranefeather grunted, chewing the horsetail. He pushed the broom to Saltfrost and started gathering their vast collection of cobwebs. While the healers chewed their plants, they carefully laid out the first of the cobwebs on Adderscar’s long wounds. The bear must have just slapped him, or Cranefeather doubted he would still be alive. The two got done chewing their share of the poultice at the same time and combined them together. They each took half and started spreading them over the wounds. Adderscar shifted and groaned as they carefully applied the herbs. Saltfrost carefully licked away the blood smeared down Adderscar’s face.

“You have bad luck when it comes to getting hurt,” Saltfrost sighed. Adderscar groaned again. “Can you hear me? How do you feel?” Cranefeather started applying a second layer of cobwebs against the poultice to keep it on. “It’s okay if you’re tired. We’re helping you. You’re going to be fine. Berryfrost brought you back to camp. He couldn’t save Bounceface. Does your head hurt?”

“Oh, my head is wonderful ,” Adderscar mumbled, weakly opening his good eye. “Getting thrown into a tree is just how I like to end the day.”

“You’re thinking clearly, at least,” Saltfrost sighed. She sniffed Adderscar’s wounds. “Yeah, a bear definitely did this to you, you reek of it.”

“I was just about to tell you the story of the cat with claws the size of boulders that did this to me,” Adderscar grumbled.

“I think we’ve stopped the bleeding,” Cranefeather huffed. “We may need to get more broom. We’ll redress the wound later tonight. We can start on that arnica now.”

“Berryfrost brought Bounceface’s half eaten corpse back, how marvelous,” Adderscar grumbled, glancing out the den.

“That’s Brantwing,” Saltfrost mumbled. “She ate a rotten mouse. We think it found poison just before it was caught.” Adderscar closed his eyes, groaning softly. Two dead clan cats. So much to do.

“One of the other story-keepers will probably come in once you’re feeling stronger and ask for your share of events,” Cranefeather explained. “This will likely be a trial to determine if your negligence caused Bounceface’s death. We’ll only let them in once you feel ready, though.”

“I’ve done enough of these sorts of interviews to know how it goes,” Adderscar sighed, gritting his teeth as a prick of pain rippled through him. Still, he imagined, it could be worse. 

He could be Bounceface.

The dark night devoured the ElkClan camp. The storm clouds blocked the stars. Half of the clan sat out in the cool night around Brantwing’s body. It was a vigil for two with only one corpse. Frogbelly and Berryfrost sat curled up beside each other, close to Brantwing’s corpse. Nutstar sat on the stump, watching. Stiltpelt sat outside the elder’s den, looking at the sky. Spiderstorm paced around the body, occasionally bending down to bury his face in his mother’s fur. Darkheart laid at the edge of the nursery, nursing Starlingkit. Cardinalblaze and Roachspring laid close by. All Spiderstorm wanted was some time to think, time to avoid the odd stares of his clan mates wondering how he wasn’t as broken as Frogbelly. The problem was, unlike the other clans, ElkClan didn’t do silent vigils for the dead. No, like everything in that clan, it had to include stories.

“Brantwing’s first kitting, great StarClan,” Nutstar chuckled. “I thought Bounceface was going to collapse right there. He was terrified!”

“Oh, when I was a kit,” Roachspring chirped, “I got into a fight with Bounceface because he wouldn’t let me taste death berries. You remember, Berryfrost?”

“I thought it was an interesting test,” Berryfrost sighed. “I learned about yarrow from Fernpelt and was ready to feed it to you if you started getting sick.”

“Still kinda wanna taste death berries,” Roachspring muttered before sneezing again.

“Remember,” Frogbelly said, voice clogged with sobs, “remember this winter? Brantwing found these beautiful vines and covered the warrior’s den with them.”

“Ivy,” Spiderstorm sighed. “It was ivy.” He glanced at the holy den. A golden eye stared at him from the shadows. Spiderstorm curled his lip. Nutstar was going to send a patrol of warriors and story-keepers to the Bear Cave to confirm what happened, but a part of Spiderstorm was certain Adderscar left his father to die. He’d probably be more pissed if StarClan hadn’t sapped all his emotion. He still needed to figure out what Thunderkit wanted him to do. It included Cardinalblaze, but why mention six cats?

“Oh, is ivy still growing this time of year?” Cardinalblaze gasped. “We should wrap ivy leaves in Starlingkit’s nest! Or, well, whoever’s nest he’s staying in.”

“Darkheart will nurse him,” Nutstar assured him. “She would likely appreciate the memory.”

“Starlingkit’s going to grow up knowing he had parents who wanted the world for him,” Frogbelly huffed, shaking out his head, “even if they aren’t here. We have a duty to keep him safe.” Spiderstorm’s ears and tail perked up. He’d heard the same thing just before Thunderkit died. Of course! How could he have been so blind? Of course it was them. But did that have to include the two cats Spiderstorm hated most in ElkClan?

“I’m sorry to interrupt the vigil,” Spiderstorm stammered, “and I know this is gonna sound weird, but can you four follow me? I need to talk to you.”

“Can it wait?” Frogbelly asked, his muzzle to Brantwing’s flank.

“Not really,” Spiderstorm sighed. He flicked his tail towards the medicine den. Nutstar watched with a cocked head as Cardinalblaze, Roachspring, Berryfrost, and Frogbelly followed Spiderstorm away from the stump. Her seer was a strange tom, to be sure.

Inside the holy den, Adderscar grew more and more confused as Spiderstorm and his posse approached. Perhaps they were going to yell at him for getting Bounceface killed. He could probably ignore them. Maybe he could pretend to sleep?

“Are Saltfrost and Cranefeather gone?” Spiderstorm asked as the group entered the den.

“You’re asking me?” Adderscar scoffed, carefully shifting in his nest to avoid resting on his wounds. “For your information, yes, they went to get more broom.”

“Why are we in here?” Berryfrost asked. He sat beside the herbs, tail over his paws. Frogbelly curled up beside him. Roachspring plopped into one of the nests while Cardinalblaze hovered near the edge.

“I need to tell you something Cardinalblaze and I saw when we were out of camp,” Spiderstorm explained.

“I can’t believe I forgot about that!” Cardinalblaze gasped. Spiderstorm didn’t have a chance. Cardinalblaze marched into the center of the den and began his tale of Thunderkit and the Log Tunnel. Frogbelly’s jaw dropped at the mention of Thunderkit, leaning deeper into Berryfrost. Adderscar seemed unimpressed.

“He said ‘the six of you’ when he talked,” Spiderstorm added once Cardinalblaze was finished blowing things out of proportion. “It took me a bit to figure out what he meant. With me and Cardinalblaze, I think he means you four.”

“Wait, including these two?” Cardinalblaze stammered, pointing his tail at Roachspring and Adderscar.

“Aw, what’s the matter, Cardinalblaze?” Adderscar chuckled. “Scared of losing the attention?”

“I’m pretty sure StarClan wants nothing to do with me,” Roachspring laughed.

“Just hear me out,” Spiderstorm huffed. “Whatever this is about is connected to my kin. We have me and Frogbelly, since we’re both related to Thunderkit, Brantwing, and Bounceface. Berryfrost is their son-in-code, reported Bounceface dead, and was sent to get the yarrow to help my mother. Roachspring gave her the mouse. And Adderscar…”

“You can say it,” Adderscar grumbled, flicking his tail and flinching as pain rippled through him. “You think I left him to die. Well, consider this my official statement on the matter.” He dug his claws into the nest. “The bear trapped us in the cave. Bounceface attempted to distract it, in some foolish attempt to save my life. I tried to distract the beast as well and was thrown across the forest for my troubles. And then it ate him. It’s as simple as that.”

“He was trying to follow the code,” Frogbelly whispered. “He wanted to protect you, because you’re his clanmate.”

“Tell me, who should he value more,” Adderscar snapped. “Me or his grieving family?”

“Bounceface had more honor in one whisker than you do in your entire flea-bitten pelt!” Cardinalblaze growled.

“Stop, both of you!” Frogbelly hissed, stepping in front of Cardinalblaze. “This is no time to argue.”

“Wait, if that’s why you’re all chosen by StarClan, what about me?” Cardinalblaze asked, paw to his chest.

“You were there when Thunderkit showed up,” Spiderstorm muttered.

“Because you’re our friend,” Frogbelly huffed, head to Cardinalblaze’s chest.

“Okay, so gather the mourning cats and the ones that killed your family, then what?” Roachspring huffed, grooming his elbow. Spiderstorm stared at his paws. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t want them to come true.

“We all have to raise Starlingkit,” Spiderstorm explained. “Together.”

“Roachspring, with a kit?” Cardinalblaze gasped, face scrunching in disgust.

“What do you mean, raise him?” Adderscar huffed. “He’s got you two and the rest of the clan’s help.”

“Yet, does he?” Berryfrost pondered. “Now, I’m not a seer, but I can pick up on patterns quite easily. ElkClan is not as supertious as say SealClan, but we honor the will of StarClan. What happens in the past dictates what will happen, in the minds of our clanmates. When Starlingkit is the only survivor of this strange procession of death, the clan will see him as an omen of bad luck.”

“That’s not true!” Frogbelly gasped, turning to his mate. “He’s a wonderful, perfect kit! Besides, Spiderstorm and I are alive! He’s not to blame for this!” He glanced at Spiderstorm. “Right?”

“Of course not,” Spiderstorm grumbled, a bit of anxiety creeping through his frozen shell. “Kits aren’t omens at birth. It’s what happens to them that turns them into the monsters in old queen’s tales.”

“Ooo, are we saying Starlingkit could turn into a cat-eating clan destroyer?” Roachspring giggled.

“No!” Frogbelly cried. Cardinalblaze batted Roachspring’s head, hard.

“What I’m saying is, from what Thunderkit said,” Spiderstorm snapped, “if we don’t watch out for him and protect him from our own clan, Starlingkit’s future is bleak.”

“We each have our own skills, right?” Frogbelly chuckled sadly. “There’s a lot we can teach him.”

“We’re supposed to put the sake of the clan as a whole over one member of the clan, according to the code,” Berryfrost muttered.

“Are you trying to tell us raising a kit is against the code?” Adderscar scoffed.

“We may experience resistance from our clanmates if we give him special treatment,” Berryfrost explained.

“Whatever StarClan wants, that’s what we’re supposed to do,” Spiderstorm grunted, “and we’re supposed to make amends for what happened to my family by raising Starlingkit.”
“If you are interpreting the message correctly,” Berryfrost noted.

“If we are expected to put the code before all else,” Cardinalblaze hummed, pacing around. “Then let us make Starlingkit part of the code!” He jumped a bit, tail and ears high in a battle ready pose.

“Sure, let’s just ask the leaders of the other clans to include the care of one specific kit as part of the code,” Adderscar laughed.

“Berryfrost, have you studied the Blood Bond ceremony?” Cardinalblaze asked, getting right up in Berryfrost’s face.

“Yes,” Berryfrost huffed, pushing the big tom away. “That ceremony was banned, however, once the warrior code was properly established.”

“But it’s still a ceremony!” Cardinalblaze declared. “If StarClan wants this, they have to approve of it!”

“If this means I get to drink blood, I’m in,” Roachspring chuckled, standing.

“Care to explain?” Spiderstorm muttered.

“Back in the early days of the clans,” Cardialblaze explained, racing around the five toms, “cats were not so bound by duty as we are now. There was no code to be bound to! In order to protect the future of the clans and get cats to work together, they would make Blood Bonds. Whatever goal the cats bonded themselves to, like building a camp or protecting someone, hint hint, they pledged to StarClan to do it! They were as bound to work towards that goal as if it was part of the warrior code! Trailing from that goal was just as severely punished. StarClan will honor the bond and we won’t be in true trouble for prioritizing Starlingkit!”

“But if it’s banned, how can it be approved?” Frogbelly asked.

“Technically, the only cat needed to conduct the ceremony was the clan seer,” Berryfrost noted, pointing his tail at Spiderstorm.

“Tell me the right words,” Spiderstorm huffed. “If it’ll keep these two in check, I’ll do it.” He waved a paw at Roachspring and Adderscar. Cardinalblaze squealed like a kit and bounced over to Spiderstorm. He carefully whispered the steps in his ear.

“Everyone in a circle!” Cardinalblaze chirped, hopping away. The group squished together, forming a circle by Adderscar’s nest. “Now, do and say what I do.” Cardinalblaze held out his paw. He unsheathed his claws. Gently, he pressed a claw into his paw pad.

“Oh no,” Frogbelly gasped. Cardinalblaze groaned and removed his claw. A drop of blood grew on the pad.

“I shall protect and raise Starlingkit with the same passion and drive as I would protect my clan!” Cardinalblaze declared. He rubbed his bleeding paw onto a little rock by Adderscar’s nest, leaving a tiny smear of blood. He nodded to Frogbelly.

“I guess I have to do that too,” Frogbelly groaned. He lifted his paws. He closed his eyes and dug a claw into the pad. He squeaked and quickly spread the blood on the rock. “I shall protect and raise Starlingkit with the same passion and drive as I would protect my clan. Oh that was horrible! Roachspring, it’s your, oh, you’re already drawing blood.”

“I got excited,” Roachspring chuckled, shaking out his bloody paw. “I shall protect and raise Starlingkit with the same passion and drive as I would protect my clan.” He smeared his paw.

“I see, have the severely injured cat lose more blood,” Adderscar chuckled. He bit into his paw and got a few drops of blood. “I shall protect and raise Starlingkit with the same passion and drive as I would protect my clan.” As Adderscar smeared the blood, Spiderstorm silently pricked his paw.

“I shall protect and raise Starlingkit with the same passion and drive as I would protect my clan,” he muttered softly as he smeared the rock. “I promise, Thunderkit.” Berryfrost waited patiently for Spiderstorm to finish before poking a claw ino the top of his paw.

“This is much safer,” he noted. “I shall protect and raise Starlingkit with the same passion and drive as I would protect my clan.” He rubbed the back of his paw against the blood soaked rock. Spiderstorm bent down and touched his nose to the rock.

“StarClan, the cause we bind ourselves to is as important as your mighty code,” Spiderstorm said, eyes closed. “Honor our determination and bless this cause. Reward our labor and punish our misdeeds. Our word is code.” Spiderstorm opened his eyes. His pupils covered his entire iris. He gasped and sat up. A cold wind blew into the holy den, sending ice down everyone’s spines. Cardinalblaze licked his tiny wound.

“Unless you want our loyal healers to panic and find out our secret ceremony,” Adderscar sighed, “you should bury that rock.”

“There you are,” someone sighed from outside the holy den. Frogbelly, whose back was to the entrance, jumped and spun around. Darkheart stood in front of them, a sad and exhausted expression on her gray face. Starlingkit sat at Darkheart’s paws, the size of a paw himself.

“Hi, little one!” Frogbelly purred, crouching to Starlingkit’s level.

“I thought he should see the vigil, even if he won’t remember it,” Darkheart sighed.

“He can’t see it, his eyes are closed,” Berryfrost huffed.

“I’ll take him over!” Cardinalblaze and Roachspring said at the same time, talking over Berryfrost. They lunged at the kit, but Darkheart picked him up quickly. The brothers landed on top of Frogbelly.

“As his future mentor, I must make sure Starlingkit learns the proper way of ElkClan vigils!” Cardinalblaze huffed, kicking Roachspring.

“Any future warrior needs to have the smell of death in his nose!” Roachspring declared, slapping at Cardinalblaze’s face. “And who said you would be his mentor, I’ll be his mentor when he decides to be a warrior!”

“I’m suffocating,” Frogbelly groaned underneath the two giant toms.

“For StarClan’s sake, are you full grown cats or kits?” Darkheart snapped. “Have some respect for the dead. Roachspring, how you managed to befriend my son, I’ll never know.”

“Trust me, Mother,” Adderscar groaned, “I question my association with them every day.”

As the toms squirmed and stumbled back into the clearing, the clouds above shook in the cold breeze. There was something high above the pines, high above the birds and the worries of the living. There was someone there. In fact, three someones. White mist flowed from their paws. Stars glittered in their pelts. They sat in the sky, watching.

“Looking alive made me tired, Mama!” Thunderkit whined, batting at Brantwing’s tail lazily. “I wanna nap!”

“You’ll have all the naps in the world, little one,” Brantwing purred, bending down and licking her son’s head.

“I have concerns about them raising our son,” Bounceface sighed, tracing the outline of his home with his paw. “They’re young, immature, reckless.”

“That’s the great thing about life,” Brantwing laughed, licking her mate’s ear. “There’s so much room for them to grow.”

“Only a day in StarClan and you’re so wise,” Bounceface purred. He nuzzled Brantwing’s neck, and the molly laughed. Thunderkit curled at his mother’s paws, slapping at her chest.

“Alright, little one, we’ll go!” Brantwing giggled. She picked her kit up by the scruff, purring. The two mates jumped through the clouds, disturbing nothing in their ascent to StarClan.

Hidden by the clouds, deep in the glory of Silverpelt, three stars twinkled.