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Autumn chills whipped through the SealClan camp, bringing cool relief from the hot summer. Most of the clan were finishing their sunhigh meals. The newly apprentice Antlerpaw sat by the Highrock with Emberpool, his mentor, as she explained the symptoms of tick fever. Torneye touched her nose to her son’s cheek before she led her first hunting patrol in moons out of camp. Magpieflower watched the exchange from outside the warrior’s den with the remains of a salmon in her paws, while Cuckoocloud chirped away beside her.
“Mountainleap should tell us why they left,” Cuckoocloud grumbled. “They’re my kits. Don’t I have a right to know?”
“Knowing could mess with the prophecy,” Magpieflower sighed, kneading her salmon. “I don’t think I’m the best cat to ask for comforting words right now.”
“You’d be yowling at Mountainleap for more if Mothkit was sent on a quest,” Cuckoocloud huffed. “I wouldn’t be so angry if Lobsterspot wasn’t taking it so hard. I think his nightmares came back. Everything would be fine if we just knew what Podpaw and Flowerpaw were doing!” Cuckoocloud plopped her head between her paws. Magpieflower set her tail on her sister’s back. Did Barkfrost know what the apprentices were up to? Did he deliver the prophecy? The idea made Magpieflower’s chest hurt. Why did she have to picture her mate in StarClan without her?
“Mom!” someone called. Mothkit scurried out of the counselor’s den, with Lobsterspot trailing behind him.
“What’s wrong?” Magpieflower asked, standing.
“Nothing,” Lobsterspot promised. “Mothkit has some good news.”
“I know what I want to train for as an apprentice,” Mothkit declared. Magpieflower’s ears perked.
“Well, tell us,” Cuckoocloud purred.
“I’m going to be a counselor,” Mothkit meowed.
“A counselor?’ Magpieflower repeated. “Mothkit, won’t you get bored? You love running around camp. Wouldn’t you rather be a story-keeper? Put your mind and body to use?”
“But I want to be a counselor,” Mothkit insisted, shaking his head.
“He reminds me of Redburr,” Lobsterspot added, sitting by his mate. “I think he’s going to help a lot of cats.”
“Your father wanted you to be a story-keeper,” Magpieflower sighed. She reached for her son, to cradle him by her chest, but he squirmed away.
“Why does it matter what he wanted?” Mothkit huffed. “He’s dead.” Magpieflower’s heart caught in her throat. Cuckoocloud pressed against her.
“Your first lesson for being a counselor,” Lobsterspot laughed awkwardly, “is to not say things like that!”
“Tortoiseshells are on one team, Yellowkit, Finkit, and Gravelkit will be on the other!” Rabbitface chirped, marching out the nursery. A gaggle of kits followed her outside, taunting one another and laughing. Rabbitface glanced back into the nursery and asked “Walruskit, are you sure you don’t want to play?” Walruskit stuck his mottled brown face outside.
“I’m good!” he called. “I wanna sleep!”
“Alright!” Rabbitface laughed.
“I want Leafkit on my team!” Yellowkit huffed, a moss ball in his mouth. “He always gets the moss ball with his weird paws.”
“They aren’t weird!” Leafkit whined, shuffling his six-toed feet. “Momma says they have extra love stored in them.”
“You’re just admitting you’re bad at moss ball,” Minkkit laughed. Yellowkit glared at his sister. Minkkit hid behind Reindeerkit, who was becoming the biggest of the litter.
“Alright, Sprucefoot will explain…” Rabbitface began, before she caught herself. She blinked a few times into nothing before grabbing the moss ball from Yellowkit. “ I will explain the rules of advanced moss ball. The tortoiseshells want to get the moss ball into the nursery and the toms want to get it into the holy den. Carry it, toss it, just get it in there. I’ll keep track of the points and reset the ball once someone scores. Both teams in front of their goal!” Minkkit, Reindeerkit, and Leafkit scrambled in front of the holy den, while Yellowkit, Gravelkit, and Finkit stood proudly outside the nursery.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard her say his name since we set his body to sea,” Cuckoocloud mumbled as Rabbitface set a paw on the moss ball, laid between the teams.
“Let’s play!” Rabbitface declared, stepping back. The kits rammed into each other, trying to get the moss ball. Reindeerkit tackled her cream coated brother and made a beeline for the nursery, moss ball in her teeth.
“I haven’t seen a game of advanced moss ball in moons!” Cuckoocloud chuckled, joining Rabbitface on the sidelines. “I didn’t see you grab anything during the sunhigh meal. Why don’t you eat and I’ll watch the kits?’
“That’s alright,” Rabbitface meowed. “I like having my jaws full. With your kits on their quest, I’ve been helping with some apprentice chores. I tore up Torneye’s old nest and replaced it with a fresh one, just in case one of us joins the nursery soon, and I’ve groomed the elders. Now I’m wearing down the kits for a long nap. I’ll eat later. Though, thinking of the nursery, should I expect you back in there? You seem a bit bigger than last moon.” While Cuckoocloud stumbled over her explanation, Magpieflower took the remains of her fish to the side of the cliff, just behind the holy den, and tossed the bones into the rocks.
“Mom, are you mad that I’m a counselor?” Mothkit asked as his mom slipped past the game. “You seem mad.”
“I’m not mad,” Magpieflower sighed, standing beside the nursery while Reindeerkit scored her first point. “I’m tired today. I’m going to take a nap.”
“You’re always tired,” Mothkit grumbled, “even when you want to pay attention to me.”
“That’s not…” Magpieflower began, but her son trotted over to Lobsterspot. Magpieflower slipped into the nursery. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Magpieflower took her nest near Walruskit, who sleepily stared at her before rolling over. Magpieflower spun a few times and settled down. She closed her eyes and pictured him. Soft, pale eyes. White speckled muzzle. Dark spots clashing against a white chest. Warriors were supposed to move on from death. She would see him in StarClan! She didn’t have to keep mourning. And yet…
A moss ball hit Magpieflower’s head. Leafkit stood outside, claws still up from his hit.
“Sorry,” Leafkit chirped, hurrying inside to grab the moss ball and hurry out. While he joined his team, Lobsterspot stepped inside.
“Magpieflower,” Lobsterspot hummed, “rough day?”
“It seems so,” Magpieflower grumbled, sitting up.
“Come outside,” Lobsterspot suggested. “I have an idea.” Magpieflower sighed, but followed her brother-in-code into camp. Rabbitface declared another round of moss ball and let the kits race towards the tattered ball once more.
“Rabbitface, I’m going to take over the moss ball game,” Lobsterspot explained, tail brushing Rabbitface’s side. “You’re going to go on a walk with Magpieflower. It’ll do you both good to get out of camp.”
“No, thank you,” Rabbitface meowed politely, head swiveling to keep track of the ball.
“I’m sorry, Rabbitface,” Lobsterspot laughed, placing a paw on Rabbitface’s back. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”
“Are you trying to order me around?” Rabbitface scoffed.
“It’s within my rights as a counselor if I believe it will help your performance in the clan,” Lobsterspot said. He stood in front of Rabbitface and Magpieflower and nudged them towards the camp exit.
“When did you become so confident?” Rabbitface asked, backing up.
“When it comes to matters of grief,” Lobsterspot huffed, “I can’t mince words. Now go, enjoy your walk.” Rabbitface stumbled back before turning out of camp, Magpieflower quietly following behind. That was one way to get Magpieflower out of her head, she supposed.
The kit’s game echoed across the shore as the queens made their way to the ocean. Magpieflower noted they went to the other side of the camp cliff, away from the blood that hid underneath boulders and inside cracks.
“If we have to leave camp,” Rabbitface sighed, “why don’t we swim? Unless you’re still a dry paw.”
“I was never a dry paw,” Magpieflower huffed. “I’m careful around water, that’s all.” Rabbitface waded into the ocean. Magpieflower gasped at the chill of the water. She hadn’t gone swimming since she became a queen. She stepped further out to sea until her paws left the ground. Kitefall’s old lessons guided her feet as she gently paddled beside Rabbitface, whose tail skimmed the water like a snake. They swam west, past the camp cliff and towards the stone tree towering over the clans.
“It won’t be long until your son is an apprentice,” Rabbitface hummed. “Does he know what he wants to become?”
“He has some ideas,” Magpieflower muttered. She should be proud of her son for making his decision. Why wasn’t she?
“That’s alright,” Rabbitface coughed, a wave splashing her face. “Finkit wants to be a counselor, to my surprise. I thought Walruskit would be the counselor, but he’s asking me about trials.”
“He’ll do well as a story-keeper,” Magpieflower meowed politely. The lapping of the water clawed through the awkward silence.
Magpieflower was already tired by the time the queens swam to the edge of Seal Cove. She wanted to turn back, but what would she tell Mothkit about his future? Did she have the guts to deny him his dream? And for what? Barkfrost’s legacy? Someone had to keep his memory strong. Magpieflower was the only one to say his name in a moon. What if the clan forgot his intelligence? His strange, sarcastic sense of humor? His face?
“From the weight Cuckoocloud has put on, I think she’s expecting kits,” Rabbitface noted.
“What?” Magpieflower gasped. “No, she’s not. She’s been far too busy checking the border for foxes.”
“I did see her and Lobsterspot sneak out for a midnight stroll half a moon ago,” Rabbitface giggled.
“Please, don’t talk about my sister’s love life,” Magpieflower groaned, eyeing the seals that slept on the cove’s rocks.
“It’s some of the only interesting news in SealClan,” Rabbitface muttered. “Most of the excitement lately is with CliffClan and PuffinClan. I heard they’re finally focusing on who moved the border.”
“I’m not very interested in the other clans,” Magpieflower huffed. “If we swim this way anymore, it’ll be a while before we can get back on dry land. Why don’t we continue this walk as a proper walk?”
“I’m actually enjoying this now,” Rabbitface chirped, swimming to the sandy coast.
Magpieflower and Rabbitface were close enough to the Stone Tree to see the small opening at the base. If they were that far from camp, they had to be near the outer border. Still, Magpieflower continued on. Panic seized her each time she thought of what to tell Mothkit, followed by a bout of anger for her own selfishness. Her wet legs snagged dying grass and red leaves.
“Oh, we’re at the Stream of the Queens!” Rabbitface gasped, running to the babbling stream that slithered north to form Lover’s River and loop back to the ocean far beyond the territory. The Stream of the Elders was up ahead, forming a small island with its twin stream and the ocean. Pink pebbles sprinkled the bottom of the stream. Magpieflower smiled, sitting by the water’s edge and dipping a paw into the water. Rabbitface laid in the middle, forcing the stream to run around her.
“This is where Barkfrost proposed to me,” Magpieflower purred. Rabbitface sat up, tail dragged with the gentle current. “He gave me a barnacle speckled shell I could fit my paw in. The fin broke last year, but I keep it close. Do you still have yours?”
“I proposed to Jayleaf,” Rabbitface corrected softly.
“I know it’s not tradition,” Magpieflower chuckled, “but I wanted to give him a shell as well before our ceremony. I ran to the shore and started digging. I ended up finding the tiniest swirling pink shell. I was in such a rush, I apparently forgot to say yes to his proposal. He was so worried that he insulted me.” Magpieflower dragged her paw over the pink pebbles, her smile turning sad. “You’re his sister, Rabbitface. Do you have any fond memories of him?”
“We should head back to camp,” Rabbitface sighed, stepping out of the stream.
“What about my question?” Magpieflower huffed, smile snapping away.
“It’ll only make you sad,” Rabbitface scoffed.
“Don’t you want to talk about him?” Magpieflower snapped.
“Magpieflower, I really don’t,” Rabbitface groaned, tail thrashing.
“The whole clan is trying to forget him,” Magpieflower hissed. “Why do you want to?”
“It’s been close to a season, we have to continue doing our jobs,” Rabbitface snapped, lowering her tail into a crook, ready to defend herself.
“Sprucefoot’s been dead for less than a moon, but you won’t talk about him either!” Magpieflower grunted. Rabbitface showed her teeth, hissing. “Sparrowsong and Kitefall are still mourning him, at least! You’re acting like an ice-heart!”
“I have kits to care for!” Rabbitface spat. “Just because you’re ignoring your own in favor of your own misery doesn’t mean the rest of us should!”
“How…” Magpieflower gasped, tail thrashing as a furious yowl built in her throat. “How dare you! How dare you say you’re a better mother than me! Pretending that you’re not hurting won’t help your kits either!” Magpieflower crossed the stream. “Go back to camp before I slash your shoulder open!” Rabbitface hissed at her as she marched away, pelt bristling.
Something clicked underneath Magpieflower’s front paw.
A brilliant silver band attached to a black chunk snapped around Magpieflower’s ankle. The harsh material dug into her pelt and through her skin, oozing blood around it. Magpieflower collapsed, wailing as the pain stabbed through her leg. She pulled and bit at the band, but it only dug further in.
“Magpieflower, don’t squirm!” Rabbitface yowled, jumping over the stream. She skidded around Magpieflower, facing her. She didn’t notice the second silver band hiding in the grass a tail-length behind her.
The band spun around Rabbitface’s back foot, dragging her to her belly. She kicked and spasmed, hissing and screeching.
“Someone, help!” Magpieflower wailed, scratching at the ground to dull the pain. “Help us, we’re trapped!”
“Stop, stop yowling,” Rabbitface hissed, trying to still her shaking leg. “Your sister smelled a fox near the border as soon as three days ago. We’re so far from camp, they’re more likely to hear us than any of our clanmates. Oh StarClan, this stings!”
“What is it?” Magpieflower stammered, digging her claws under the band.
“Some sort of snare,” Rabbitface gulped. “I’ve never heard of one like this before. They’re usually set for foxes and wrap around the neck.”
“There has to be a patrol by soon,” Magpieflower cried, breathing fast.
“Don’t you smell that?” Rabbitface hissed. The wind blew in from the outer border. Slightly stale SealClan scent.
“They already marked the border,” Magpieflower whined.
“They’ll find us eventually,” Rabbitface growled, gritting her teeth. “We have to manage the pain until then. Don’t mess with it, or it’ll get tighter.”
“How am I supposed to not touch it?” Magpieflower wailed. “I can’t, I can’t retract my claws!”
“It’s not that much worse than giving birth, is it?” Rabbitface groaned, gnashing her teeth. “I just need something to bite down on.”
“You’re making jokes?” Magpieflower hissed.
“I don’t panic,” Rabbitface snapped. “If I panic, nothing gets better. So stay calm and fight through the pain.”
“That won’t last forever,” Magpieflower groaned. “You do the same thing when you lose someone, don’t you? You can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt.”
“You’re not a counselor,” Rabbitface hissed, dragging her claws slowly through the grass. “Look what hurting does for you. You’ve barely done anything since Mothkit was born.”
“You know full well what I had to handle when he was born,” Magpieflower growled.
Four moons prior, on a warm, late spring day, the SealClan camp was quiet. Flowerpaw and Podpaw guarded the camp, too young to join Brinestar’s ambush against CliffClan. Mountainleap sat on Highrock and murmured to the stars, looking for confirmation that his advice was right. If StarClan sent a vision calling for CliffClan blood to protect them, how could SealClan deny that? Brinestar and Freckletuft were leading the charge themselves, with all their able warriors and story-keepers by their side. The counselors could only sit about and prepare for the aftermath, all while the faint echoes of battle drifted in strong winds from the south.
A yowl tore out of the nursery, but only a few cats glanced that way, while Torneye chatted with the pregnant queens outside. That yowl was of a different sort of bloodshed than the sort by the border.
“It hurts!” Magpieflower wailed, breaking through another stick.
“StarClan, how strong are your jaws?” Emberpool tried to joke, brushing aside the remains of the twig. Needlecall sat beside the panting molly, gently grooming her head.
“You’re doing well,” Needlecall purred.
“Why aren’t my kits here yet?” Magpieflower groaned, back legs kicking. “It’s been hours!”
“Some births are very long,” Emberpool sighed. “You and your sister took a day and a half to come. Try to eat the sorrel, it’ll give you strength for the final push. You’re so close, I can feel it.”
“Brinestar shouldn’t have taken Barkfroat with him,” Magpieflower whined, head buried in Needlecall’s chest. “He might never see his children!”
“He’ll come back,” Needlecall promised. “Now eat that sorrel!” Magpieflower groaned, but lapped up the soft leaves at the edge of her nest. A spasm racked her body.
“Oh, I see them!” Emberpool gasped. “Keep pushing, Magpieflower! It’s a tom!” Magpieflower yowled again and gave it all her strength. A wet ball of fur plopped into existence. Magpieflower gasped and dragged the little kit, a brown tabby, to her belly. She knew what to do. She groomed the gunk away from his face. He let out the tiniest mew of life.
“Good, good,” Emberpool purred. She gently pressed her paws into Magpieflower’s stomach. “I think I overestimated the kits this time. From the feel of things, this little guy is it.”
“Yes, yes!” Magpieflower gasped, purring. “He looks like his father!” Her head fell into the nest as her kit found milk. She was a mother, she was finally a mother!
“The patrol’s coming back!” Podpaw called from outside. Orders and relieved mews filled the camp.
“Oh StarClan, already?” Emberpool groaned, glancing into camp. “Needlecall, you’re experienced, can you watch her? Grab some black lovage seeds if you need to speed up the finishing process and some borage if she needs more milk. I need to check on the clan.”
“I can handle this,” Needlecall chuckled as Emberpool raced out without so much as a goodbye. “Congratulations. Any name ideas?”
“You beat me to it,” someone laughed. A brown spotted tom with a white chest stood at the edge of the den. Though wounds stained his pelt, Barkfrost’s pale eyes gleamed with pride.
“We have a son,” Magpieflower laughed, too weak to lift her head. Barkfrost got low, crawling up to the little brown kit. “I want you to name him.”
“He’s got some paleness to him,” Barkfrost hummed, nuzzling the kit. “He reminds me of a moth.”
“Mothkit, then?” Needlecall suggested as Barkfrost stood.
“Yes,” Barkfrost declared, licking his mate’s chin. “I wish I could be his mentor. There’s so much I want to teach him.”
“You should see Emberpool,” Magpieflower sighed. “Those wounds look deep.”
“I just wanted to check on my…” Barkfrost began, but his words faded. He blinked slowly, the pride and emotion in his eyes flickering.
“Barkfrost, are you alright?” Needlecall asked.
“Just a little…” Barkfrost muttered. He swayed left and fell on his side, eyes snapping shut. Magpieflower screamed, trying to stand.
“Emberpool!” Needlecall yowled. “Barkfrost needs you! Someone help him to the holy den!” Brinestar and Coaststorm ran inside. Coaststorm pulled Barkfrost onto Brinestar’s back. The two raced to the busy holy den.
“Barkfrost!” Magpieflower called as Mothkit mewed for more milk. “Barkfrost!”
“Your job was feeding your newborn kit,” Rabbitface sighed, curling around her trapped leg.
“I thought my mate was dead!” Magpieflower hissed, digging at the black platform that held the snare. “You expected me to not think of him?” Rabbitface’s pained anger cracked, the frustration bleeding out with her wounds.
“I’m sorry,” Rabbitface grunted. “It’s just that he got better and you kept leaving the nursery to check on him, even when Mothkit needed milk.”
“I fed my son and I cared for my mate,” Magpieflower growled. “And he didn’t get better, even after his wounds healed. You know how sickly he got. Everyone is upset when someone gets hurt or dies. Even you were sobbing while they prepared Sprucefoot’s body for the sea.” Rabbitface laid her head down, staring at her bleeding foot.
“We should keep our strength up,” she muttered.
“The stories help,” Magpieflower admitted, numbness beginning to creep through her paw. “They distract me.”
“Some of us don’t want to live in those stories,” Rabbitface grumbled, gasping as her back leg spasmed with pain.
“You’re a story-keeper,” Magpieflower huffed.
“I don’t keep my own stories close,” Rabbitface explained, ears low.
Over the moons, SealClan had perfected the art of death nests. A light bed of moss, built on the water, waited for Sprucefoot’s body. The sunrise on the other side of the world made the ocean black. Rabbitface, Sparrowsong, Kitefall, and Sappelt waited by the shore as Emberpool walked down the hill, Sprucefoot on her back. Mountainleap walked beside her, muttering prayers to StarClan for Sprucefoot’s safe journey. Sappelt closed her eyes as he passed, claws digging into the blood stained coast.
Rabbitface wanted to wail once more as Emberpool gently placed Sprucefoot on the floating nest. He bobbed in the water, nearly sinking. Rabbitface couldn’t lose Sprucefoot, not after Owlstep’s death a year before and Barkfrost’s passing in the early days of summer. The grief of three deaths clawed at her throat.
Emberpool and Mountainleap pushed the nest further out to sea. A wave splashed against their chests and caught the nest. Sprucefoot drifted from his home, the smell of watermint in the air.
“I don’t even have his proposal shell,” Sappelt muttered, stiff beside Rabbitface. Rabbitface took her grief, took her powerful urge to scream at the sun and moon for the injustice, and pushed it deep down.
“Sappelt,” Rabbitface whispered, a paw on Sappelt’s paw, “I know we may just be sisters-in-code, and now just clanmates, but I will be your sister if you need me.” Sappelt nodded, breathing deep but ragged. “Why don’t we go back to camp? We can share tongues later, and you’ll look like your usual terrifying self on border patrols.”
“I’ve grown too used to sleeping,” Kitefall yawned, watching her son’s body fade away. “I’ll be in the elder’s den.” The mollies took Kitefall’s pace walking back towards camp. As she moved, Rabbitface smoothed her pelt and relaxed. There were things to do.
The clan was just beginning their day as the vigil party returned. Ptarmiganflight and Brackensplash carried fresh-kill to the nursery. Freckletuft carefully assisted Cuckoocloud and Redburr in repairing the reed wall. Torneye and Beepelt talked to Brinestar. Salmonmask was getting a hunting patrol together, which Sparrowsong quickly joined. While Kitefall went to the elder’s den and Sappelt slunk into the warrior’s den, Rabbitface entered the nursery.
The kits were waking up and bothering their mothers. Jayleaf slept in Rabbitface’s nest, Walruskit and Finkit curled beside him. Rabbitface purred. She was lucky to have a mate like Jayleaf.
“I’m back,” Rabbitface whispered, touching her nose to Jayleaf’s cheek. Jayleaf’s eyes flickered open, blurry with sleep.
“How are you feeling?” Jayleaf muttered, letting out a huge yawn.
“Ready to see my sons again,” Rabbitface purred as Walruskit stretched and squirmed. Finkit awoke with far too much energy for the morning, hopping to his paws.
“I want food,” Finkit whined, shaking the moss from his pelt.
“Go to the fresh-kill pile,” Rabbitface chuckled as Needlecall’s gaggle of kits pounced on Brackensplash’s mackerel. Finkit jumped over Jayleaf’s leg and ran outside.
“The queens and I can watch these two if you need some time,” Jayleaf sighed, sitting up.
“I’ll be fine,” Rabbitface promised. “You have plenty to do today. See if they sent out a border patrol yet.”
“If you’re sure,” Jayleaf muttered, giving his mate a sleepy nose touch. “I’m going to find some bay. I know you love the smell.”
“Are you a warrior or a healer?” Rabbitface chuckled.
“Just a tom with a love of good smells and beautiful cats,” Jayleaf purred.
“Is this flirting?” Walruskit asked, popping between Rabbitface and Jayleaf.
“Who taught you about flirting?” Rabbitface laughed, settling into her nest.
“Alderfeather,” Walruskit chirped. Alderfeather was grooming Gravelkit in the nest beside Rabbitface and couldn’t hide her laugh.
“Make sure you eat,” Jayleaf huffed, tail brushing Rabbitface’s chin as he left the nursery. Rabbitface pulled Walruskit close and started grooming his unkept pelt.
“Was the vigil fun?” Walruskit asked.
“Vigils aren’t fun, Walruskit,” Rabbitface sighed.
“Oh,” Walruskit hummed. He kneaded his paws into the nest while his mother smoothed his fur down. Needlecall’s kits finished their meal and bolted outside, with Yellowkit leading the charge. The kits slammed into fluffy ginger and white legs standing outside.
“Sorry, Lobsterspot!” Leafkit called, hurrying after his siblings.
“Good morning, Lobsterspot,” Alderfeather purred as the blue collared tom entered. “Magpieflower and Mothkit are making dirt if you wanted to see them.”
“No, not right now,” Lobsterspot meowed. “I’m actually here to talk to Rabbitface.” Walruskit cocked his head.
“Do you want some privacy?” Needlecall asked, collecting the remains of her kits’ meal.
“If that’s alright,” Lobsterspot gulped.
“Come along, Walruskit,” Alderfeather called as Needlecall carried the remains out. “Let’s leave your mother alone. You should eat something.”
“Alright,” Walruskit sighed. He crawled between Rabbitface’s paws and joined Gravelkit as he and his mother left the den.
“This seems official,” Rabbitface muttered, tucking one paw over the other.
“I’m talking to all of Sprucefoot’s kin,” Lobsterspot explained, sitting beside the nest. “I decided to start with you. What’s on your mind?”
“I’m ready to keep wrangling these kits,” Rabbitface sighed. “We’ll all have a bit more peace when they’re apprentices.”
“And with Sprucefoot?” Lobsterspot asked, his paw on the nest’s edge.
“The vigil’s over,” Rabbitface said. “It’s time to move on with life.”
“That’s good,” Lobsterspot muttered, but his pitiful expression gave away his thoughts.
“What’s wrong?’ Rabbitface asked, tail flicking in irritation.
“You don’t seem…” Lobsterspot admitted, searching for the right words. “...as sad as you were when you left camp for the burial. That was only a few minutes ago.”
“That’s what happens to emotions,” Rabbitface sighed.
“Grief is—” Lobsterspot began.
“I finished grieving,” Rabbitface grunted, showing a bit of tooth.
“That’s not how it works,” Lobsterspot huffed, scooting closer. “It’s good to keep going, but you still need to process your feelings.”
“Mom, Walruskit is stealing my fish!” Finkit squealed outside.
“A queen’s job is never finished,” Rabbitface muttered, standing.
“Rabbitface—” Lobsterspot gulped.
“No,” Rabbitface interrupted, almost laughing. “No, I think we’re done.” She walked around Lobsterspot and into camp. Her grief was trapped in a den of brambles. It was better for everyone to keep it that way.
Magpieflower had lost track of time. The sun had moved quite a bit. Surely her clanmates were looking for her and Rabbitface by now. She wished they would move faster. The snare was going to snap her paw off. Rabbitface couldn’t be any better. She was curled tight around her trapped back leg.
“Sprucefoot loved Sparrowsong and I,” Rabbitface lamented. “He sang about our strengths at every Gathering and insisted we do the same. He got his name from racing all the other apprentices. He was so excited when Barkfrost was born. He finally had a brother.”
“I wish I spent more time with him,” Magpieflower sighed. “He was a wonderful hunting partner. He’d scare fish downstream so I could catch them.”
“Kitefall taught him that,” Rabbitface laughed sadly.
“She taught me the same thing!” Magpieflower purred, too tired to care about the pain anymore. “It got Barkfrost interested in… oh, what did he call it?”
“Generational mentorship,” Rabbitface hummed. “Ever the scholar.”
“He tried to figure out what was killing him,” Magpieflower muttered, shivering at the word. “He talked to the healers in all the clans, every story-keeper he knew who studied causes of death.”
“He never talked to me,” Rabbitface said.
“It started after that walk,” Magpieflower explained. “Do you remember?”
Summer graced the clans that day, as Sprucefoot led Kitefall, Rabbitface, Jayleaf, Sparrowsong, Sappelt, Barkfrost, and Magpieflower through the territory. Technically, it was a hunting patrol, but with an elder and two queens (one of which was practically bursting, her kits expected anytime), everyone knew it was a walk, bringing along Kitefall’s children and their mates.
“The fish in Yewstar Stream should be back by now,” Sappelt noted. “It’s been a moon since I… you know.”
“Killed Reedtail and got yourself isolated?” Sparrowsong muttered, tall enough to glare down at Sappelt.
“I’ll do the same to you,” Sappelt huffed.
“You have to reach my head first,” Sparrowsong laughed.
“No murder, kits,” Kitefall chuckled.
“I know how to dispose of her body,” Barkfrost added, walking in rhythm with Magpieflower.
“Betrayal,” Sparrowsong grunted, laughter in her silky voice.
“Oh, Jayleaf, a mouse,” Rabbitface whispered, pointing her tail east. “I’ve been craving mice for days, but the fresh-kill pile only has fish.”
“The clan bows to the will of the pregnant one,” Jayleaf purred, stretching with his flank high. He stalked towards the mouse, the tip of his tail twitching.
“Meet us at the stream when you’re finished,” Sprucefoot meowed, continuing on.
“Magpie and I will wait for them,” Barkfrost said, sitting. “Maybe I’ll catch some mice too.”
“If you say so,” Sprucefoot sighed, flicking an ear in acknowledgement as he, Sparrowsong, Kitefall, and Sappelt headed for the border. Barkfrost’s face sagged. Magpieflower sat beside him and wrapped her tail in his.
“Are you tired again?” she asked.
“A bit,” Barkfrost admitted, licking his chest.
“That’s been happening a lot,” Magpieflower muttered. “You’re getting thinner, too.”
“The fresh kill pile doesn’t look very appealing,” Barkfrost sighed.
“What does Emberpool say?”
“She made me eat some roots to get my appetite back, but I don’t know what’s wrong. All Emberpool can do is treat the symptoms. I know there’s an underlying cause.”
“The Gathering is tomorrow night,” Magpieflower sighed, head tucked underneath Barkfrost’s chin. “I’ll ask Brinestar if I can go, and I’ll talk to the healers. Emberpool might not know, but maybe Shimmerblaze has seen something like this?”
“You need to watch Mothkit,” Barkfrost said. “I’ll ask to go.”
“You need to sleep,” Magpieflower huffed, glaring. “You could pass out like you did a quarter moon ago.”
“I did not pass out,” Barkfrost grumbled.
“You just about fell on your face,” Magpieflower snapped softly. “Whether it was for a few seconds or not doesn’t matter. I may not be a story-keeper, but I’m going to find out how to help you.”
“You’re living up to your name,” Barkfrost laughed.
“What do you mean?” Magpieflower asked, stepping back.
“Don’t you know?” Barkfrost scoffed. “Your suffix, a name ending with -flower means you’re parental. You care for others.”
“I…” Magpieflower gasped softly. “I didn’t realize. Brinestar never told me.”
“Good catch!” Rabbitface cheered as Jayleaf trotted back with a mouse like an apprentice with his first kill.
“If Rabbitface hears about my symptoms, the whole clan will treat me like a dead cat walking,” Barkfrost muttered.
“Follow my lead,” Magpieflower purred, nose to Barkfrost’s cheek.
“Let’s rejoin the others,” Jayleaf suggested as he buried his catch.
“I’m sorry, Jayleaf,” Magpieflower yawned, shaking false sleep from her pelt. “Mothkit’s birth seems to have worn me out far more than I realized. I think I’ll go back to camp. Barkfrost, will you come back with me?”
“Of course,” Barkfrost chuckled.
“Well, make sure you rest!” Rabbitface called as Magpieflower and Barkfrost retraced their steps.
“I didn’t know you to be such an excellent liar,” Barkfrost purred.
“I haven’t told you all my secrets,” Magpieflower laughed.
“It sounds like you’re the one who hunted down the healers and story-keepers,” Rabbitface muttered as night began to fall over the tiny island.
“Barkfrost told me which story-keepers to ask,” Magpieflower stammered, the blood around her paw dried enough that new wounds sprouted over the scars.
“But you asked,” Rabbitface pointed out. “You had the idea. Barkfrost wasn’t the one doing these things, he was so tired in those last days. Why can’t you be the caring and responsible molly you were then?”
“Because he’s not here,” Magpieflower muttered, ears flat. “I don’t have someone to care for.”
“What about Mothkit?” Rabbitface huffed. “Your sister? You’re as close to my mother as any of her daughters, she needs to be cared for.”
“I don’t know,” Magpieflower groaned. “Why can’t you let yourself grieve?” Rabbitface closed her eyes. For a moment, Magpieflower thought she was drifting to StarClan.
“We have time for one more story,” Rabbitface sighed.
“Wigeondawn and Mistfur took the blue anemone blessed by StarClan and placed the flower in the brambles of the counselor’s bush,” Rabbitface whispered in the quiet of the nursery, as the kits dozed and tried to blink the sleep away, wanting to hear the story’s end. “The flower bloomed throughout the camp and brought a peaceful and plentiful spring to SealClan. Those flowers watched the pair as they vowed to the stars to be mates for the rest of their lives. And they lived happily ever after.” Mothkit squirmed further underneath Magpieflower’s leg, deep in sleep. Yellowkit’s head dipped up and down until it plopped onto Reindeerkit’s back. Torneye was no longer in the nursery, her son now an apprentice. In her place, Finkit and Walruskit got a special gift for the night; sleeping by Jayleaf’s side, tucked beside him in dreaming bliss.
“Wigeondawn and Mistfur, weren’t they Railfur’s parents?” Alderfeather whispered as Gravelkit yawned in his sleep.
“Their love has been made into myth,” Rabbitface chuckled. “Goodnight.” Alderfeather purred and closed her eyes. Rabbitface was the only cat awake in the nursery. Despite her sleepy story of magical flowers and love, she wasn’t tired. Her kits were a tail-length away, but their spot by her belly felt cold. Maybe a walk around camp would help her sleep. Sappelt, Coaststorm, and Ptarmiganflight were alternating between night guard duty; if Sappelt was outside camp, maybe Rabbitface could talk to her.
She waited until Alderfeather’s breathing slowed into sleep before she stood. She crept around Needlecall’s tail, which laid in front of the den entrance. Ptarmiganflight was the one guarding camp when Rabbitface stepped outside. That was alright; Rabbitface could listen to the gentle snores of her fellow story-keepers and the rumble of the waves far below.
As Rabbitface turned to face Brinestar’s den and the tip of the cliff, her gaze settled on the reed wall that protected the kits from tumbling into the rocks below. The wall had been repaired, of course, but part of the ground was void of grass, crumbled into dirt and dust.
Rabbitface sat and stared at the spot. Unheard whispers filled her head with the sound of crashing waves. She remembered. Kitefall yowling from the elder’s den that Owlstep wouldn’t wake up. Barkfrost succumbing to his unknown illness in the holy den. Her littermate slipping off the edge.
He had made eye contact with her just as the ground gave way. With her kits beside her, Rabbitface saw her brother’s eyes fill with fear and hopeless realization as Moutainleap yowled at him to back up.
Her chest hurt. There was something on her chest. Rabbitface couldn’t breathe. She was painfully aware of each hair on her pelt and each crack in her pads, yet her clan blurred with the crashing of the waves. The noise blocked her ears. Her body was attacking itself.
She had left the nursery just as night fell.
She didn’t go back until moonhigh.
The panic and overwhelming sensations Rabbitface had described seemed to grip her as tight as a snare. Not that there was much energy to give. Magpieflower’s senses were failing her, and Rabbitface had to be close behind.
“I can’t think about it,” Rabbiface cried. “Otherwise, I’m going to go somewhere dark and I’ll never get out. Barkfrost, my father, Sprucefoot , they’re all dead and I can’t grieve for them because my family needs me.” She laid her head flat to the ground, one ear turning inside out. Her chest heaved, which made her leg shake and the snare tear further into her.
“We can’t go on like this,” Magpieflower muttered, her own head dragging down. Rabbitface was either too tired to respond, or...
“Emberpool, they’re here!” a young voice called. “I can hear them! Over the stream!”
“Magpie?” a molly yowled. “Rabbitface?” Cuckoocloud.
Magpieflower turned her head, leg pulling in the trap. It probably tightened the snare, but she had lost feeling in the paw hours ago. Emberpool, Antlerpaw, Cuckoocloud, and Sparrowsong raced towards the queens, even though Antlerpaw’s spasmed walk slowed them. What in StarClan’s name took them so long? The irritation faded fast, as many thoughts did with the pain, as Magpieflower remembered why she needed rescue in the first place.
“Snares,” Magpieflower whined, a final push through the pain. “Don’t step on them.”
“Antlerpaw, back,” Emberpool ordered, pulling her apprentice back by the scuff.
“Step carefully,” Cuckoocloud ordered. “Magpieflower, we’re coming!”
“Antlerpaw, stay here and don’t cross the water,” Emberpool barked. She continued to order the patrol, but her words turned into churning water. Magpieflower closed her eyes.
Magpieflower was standing, and the world was on fire. At least, her senses were. The world was bright and loud. What was going on?
“They’re scattered everywhere.”
“These are new.”
“There’s one by your paw!”
Magpieflower’s vision began to clear. She was standing in the middle of the small island between the Stream of the Queens and the Stream of the Elders. Rabbitface stood next to her, shaking out her head. Magpieflower’s paw didn’t hurt. It wasn’t bleeding. It was perfectly fine.
Magpieflower looked to her left and saw Magpieflower, unconscious, her paw trapped in a shiny snare.
“Great StarClan!” Magpieflower yelped, falling into Rabbitface. Another Rabbitface was still in the trap, head laid in defeat. Yet an aware and standing Rabbitface was watching the scene with the same horror as Magpieflower.
“We’re dead,” Rabbitface gasped. Emberpool, Cuckoocloud, and Sparrowsong were carefully walking around the snares hidden in the grass. Emberpool jumped to Magpieflower’s side and sniffed her pelt.
“She’s still breathing, we need to get her paw out now!” Emberpool snapped.
“Still breathing?” Magpieflower stammered. “Emberpool, can you hear me?” Sparrowsong nearly fell onto Rabbitface.
“Rabbitface is okay too!” Sparrowsong called.
“So we aren’t dead?” Rabbitface gulped.
“Cuckoocloud, get your teeth around the snare and pull it at the same time I do,” Emberpool huffed, crouching by Magpieflower’s paw. Cuckoocloud obeyed without hesitation, carefully digging her fangs between Magpieflower’s pelt and the snare. Emberpool did the same. The two mollies pulled in unison. The snare slagged, just enough for Emberpool to jut her head into the crook of Magpieflower’s leg and knock her out of the trap. Magpieflower avoided looking at her paw.
“Sparrowsong, I’ll join you,” Cuckoocloud huffed, but Sparrowsong didn’t need the help. With a battle yowl, she pushed both paws against the trap, dug her teeth around the snare, and ripped the snare out of the black square .
“Holy fox-dirt!” Antlerpaw yelped. Everyone, including the disembodied queens, jumped at that impressive display. Sparrowsong rolled Rabbitface’s body onto her back. She bolted over the stream and ran for camp. Emberpool helped Cuckoocloud carry Magpieflower’s body.
“Try to keep up, Antlerpaw,” Emberpool huffed as she and Cuckoocloud crossed the stream. Antlerpaw’s run was almost a roll as he tumbled after his mentor.
“What do we do?” Magpieflower gulped.
“There’s no reason to stay here,” Rabbitface sighed. “If we want to figure out what’s happening, we need to get back to camp.”
“Right,” Magpieflower huffed, nodding. She and Rabbitface ran through the stream and followed their bodies. It felt like running through water. Magpieflower tried to catch up with her sister, but she couldn’t run fast enough. They vanished into camp well before the queens arrived.
When Magpieflower and Rabbitface entered camp, most of their clanmates were awake. Emberpool and Antlerpaw stood over the queen’s bodies in the holy den while Emberpool guided her apprentice through treating the wounds. Magpieflower caught words flying through camp like birds; words like “snare” and “infection” and “StarClan.”
“Jayleaf,” Rabbitface gasped. Jayleaf was sitting by the elder’s den with his kits and Kitefall. Walruskit was trying to stay awake while Finkit pelted his grandmother with questions.
“She already ate, so she hasn’t starved,” Finkit huffed, pacing around Kitefall. “Her leg was just stuck for a bit. Why is that so scary?”
“Finkit, please, no more questions,” Kitefall begged. “We need to ask StarClan not to take them yet. It’s not their time.”
“Finkit, my little fish, Mom’s right here,” Rabbitface stammered, crouching beside her son.
“She’s going to be fine,” Jayleaf said with surprising confidence. “Rabbitface knows more about traps than any story-keeper. She wouldn’t have moved around too much, which means whatever infection she may or may not have, it just wiped her out.”
“So she’ll wake up in the morning,” Finkit grunted.
“Then let’s sleep,” Walruskit whined, stumbling towards the nursery.
“Ask Alderfeather if you can sleep in her nest,” Jayleaf called after his tired son.
“I’ll stay with you,” Finkit insisted. “I want to tell Mom all about my moss ball victory when she wakes up.”
“How about this,” Jayleaf suggested. “Send a prayer to StarClan, or even to Sun and Moon if you feel confident, for Mom to wake up quickly, and you can sleep in my nest tonight.”
“In the warrior’s den?” Finkit asked, eyes glittering. He squeezed his eyes tight and said with lightning speed “StarClan let my mom wake up so I can talk to her about moss ball okay I’ll be in your nest!” Finkit bounded across camp.
“Why aren’t they worried?” Rabbitface gulped.
“That’s not what’s happening,” Magpieflower pointed out, brushing against Rabbitface.
“I don’t think he understands,” Kitefall muttered, watching her grandson run. “Don’t you remember that horror story from ElkClan? How Partridgeleg was caught in a silver jaw and nearly died from the infection?”
“Kitefall, Rabbitface needs us,” Jayleaf explained softly. “She spends so much time caring for the kits and her sister and me and you, she deserves to have us believe she’ll be alright. StarClan will help her.” He placed his chin on Kitefall’s head. The elder sighed and leaned into the gesture.
“I thought they’d be a mess,” Rabbitface muttered, shaking her head.
“They’re stronger than you thought,” Magpieflower sighed.
“It’s the opposite for you,” Rabbitface said, tail pointed to the nursery. Magpieflower turned to see her son, shivering and crying in Cuckoocloud’s embrace. Mothkit looked so tiny. Even Cuckoocloud seemed high-strung. Mothkit buried himself in Cuckoocloud’s curly fur. Cuckoocloud put a paw on his back and stared with held breath at the holy den.
“Please don’t cry, Mothkit,” Magpieflower begged, racing to her son. “Please, I’m okay.”
“Lobsterspot, it’s—” Redburr sighed a few tail-lengths away by the counselor’s den.
“It is entirely my fault!” Lobsterspot stammered. He was stuck to his spot, back slightly arched and claws out. “I sent them on the walk. I should have said something when they didn’t come back.”
“Hey,” Redburr snapped, batting Lobsterspot upside the head. “You know what I say about that sort of talk.”
“Cuckoocloud will never forgive me if I get her sister killed,” Lobsterspot gulped.
“No, of course she would!” Magpieflower gasped, running up to her brother-in-code. Why couldn’t she do anything to fix this? Why did the world seem the wrong way around? Why did Magpieflower’s family seem on the verge of breaking while Rabbitface’s had faith in her recovery? It had been the other way around for so long.
Wind buffeted Magpieflower’s belly. She yowled as the spinning breeze pulled her off the ground. Rabbitface’s claws dug into the grass, but her hind legs were carried away. The wind pulled her into the sky.
“Rabbitface!” Magpieflower screeched. She reached for the brown molly, but spun just out of reach. Rabbitface yowled something, but the wind carried her words away.
As suddenly as the strange storm began, the wind stopped. For a moment, Magpieflower and Rabbitface floated in the sky like hovering birds. Pink and purple clouds formed under their paws. When they gently landed, the clouds were as soft as fresh moss. A few tufts scattered around them. Magpieflower tried to breathe.
“What in StarClan was that?” she hissed.
“StarClan,” Rabbitface guessed, as out of breath as Magpieflower. A world of pink clouds rolled out around them. Silverpelt was alive with stars, closer than ever before.
There was something in the distance behind Rabbitface. Some of the clouds drifted upwards, a path to the sky. Yet Magpieflower could also hear rushing water.
“This way,” Magpieflower whispered. She marched past Rabbitface towards the impossible path. The clouds cradled her every step. The smell of the sea and clean fur drifted around her. Was this StarClan?
The clouds ended by the floating path of cat-sized clouds. While that path traveled high to Magpieflower’s left, the rushing water came from her right. Grass sprouted from the clouds and pebbles formed a small pool. The water moved to the cloud’s edge and tumbled towards the world below, which was nothing more than a haze of green and blue. Magpieflower sniffed the waterfall. No matter how much water drained away, the pool was full. She took a drink. Cool and fresh.
“Do we walk up the clouds?” Rabbitface asked, ears turned to the path.
“Do we have a choice?” Magpieflower gulped.
“Actually, yes,” someone meowed behind them. The mollies spun around. Three brown toms stood before them with stars in their fur. Owlstep’s long spotted fur had stars covering his chest, wrapping around the tiny white spot under his chin. Barkfrost stood to his right, stardust forming a faint but morbid outline of his skeleton. Sprucefoot sat at his father’s left with stars splattered across his pelt like patches. Magpieflower couldn’t breathe.
“We should make something clear before we say anything else,” Barkfrost sighed, stepping forward. “You aren’t dead yet.”
“Barkfrost?” Magpieflower whispered.
“Yet?” Rabbitface stuttered.
“You’re being given a once-in-a-lifetime offer,” Owlstep explained. “The clouds will lead you to StarClan. However, follow the flow of the waterfall and you will return to SealClan.” Magpieflower and Rabbitface stared at the StarClan cats. Rabbitface stuttered, searching for words.
“Dad, I think you broke them,” Sprucefoot sighed.
“Cats usually run over yowling your name,” Barkfrost muttered. “That’s what Graywhisker told me. She’s done three of these, you know. Very influential.”
“Oh, interesting,” Sprucefoot hummed.
“WHAT?” Rabbitface screeched, gaining everyone’s attention.
“Do you need me to explain things further?” Owlstep asked after an awkward moment’s silence.
“No, I understand, I can choose to live or die,” Rabbitface snapped, teeth showing, “but why in the name of the sun and moon is this happening? Does every dying cat get to make this choice?”
“Only a few,” Sprucefoot explained, “and only once. Beyond that, it is out of your control when you die.”
“Stop talking, all of you, I…” Rabbitface gulped. “I…” Her anger softened, fur smoothing out. Her voice broke. “Sprucefoot?” Sprucefoot approached his sister quietly. Rabbitface lunged for him, rubbing against his starry pelt as sobs broke free.
“Magpieflower?” Barkfrost purred. Magpieflower was lost for words. She and Barkfrost moved in unison, approaching one another. She touched Barkfrost’s nose. It was warm and wet, like he was still alive. The mates were nose to nose and forehead to forehead. Magpieflower breathed in the scent.
“Dad,” Rabbitface whined through her crying. Owlstep dutifully pressed against his daughter with low, rumbling trills.
“Hello, Rabbitface,” he purred.
“Why didn’t you get to choose?” Rabbitface cried.
“I was old,” Owlstep explained. “It was time for me to rejoin my fallen friends and family.”
“It would have been nice to choose not to fall to my death, but,” Sprucefoot sighed, glancing at the sky. “You’ll have to speak to higher beings for the reasoning there.”
“You should have gotten the chance,” Magpieflower finally whispered to her mate.
“I did,” Barkfrost said. Magpieflower stepped back, shock stabbing her once more.
“What?” Magpieflower muttered, close to crying.
“I got the choice the day Mothkit was born,” Barkfrost explained, moving to Magpieflower’s side. “I chose to go back to you. To him.”
“I don’t understand,” Magpieflower stammered.
“My disease,” Barkfrost sighed, glancing at the stardust scars running through his pelt. “It weakened me during the battle with CliffClan. My father told me that I could go back to my life, but I wouldn’t be there for long. I chose to go back.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Magpieflower snapped.
“No one who goes back remembers,” Owlstep said, joining his son’s side. “It’s only when you join StarClan that the memory returns.”
“I didn’t get enough time with you and Mothkit,” Barkfrost sighed, pressing his nose into Magpieflower’s cheek. “Still, I spent as much time as I could.”
“Thank you,” Magpieflower whispered. She turned to the paths. Rabbitface stood beside her, glancing between her options.
“It should be an easy choice,” Rabbitface muttered.
“I know how you feel,” Magpieflower sighed. Rabbitface held her breath. She extended a paw towards the clouds. Her foot began to sparkle, stars glittering in her pads.
“Wait,” Owlstep huffed, walking in front of the mollies. “Don’t rush this. You have time to think before you decide.”
“Where do you think I should go?” Rabbitface whispered, ears low.
“I can’t decide that for you,” Owlstep sighed.
“Is it wrong to want to go to StarClan?” Magpieflower asked hesitantly. “You must understand, it’s not a death wish. I didn’t want to end up here.”
“You will be blessed either way,” Owlstep promised. “Going back to SealClan won’t ease your pain. You will still be injured. Your wounds will likely still be infected. If you believe you’ve suffered enough, you can join us.” Magpieflower flicked her ears back. She led Rabbitface away from the paths, to a spot a few tail-lengths from the StarClan toms.
“Dying in a snare,” Magpieflower sighed. “Is that how we want to go?”
“They’re all right here,” Rabbitface cried, glancing back at her family.
“Do you want to leave Jayleaf and your kits behind?” Magpieflower asked.
“I don’t know!” Rabbitface snapped, voice broken. “I don’t want to hurt. I can’t hide this anymore. I’ve missed them so much.”
“You don’t have to do everything,” Magpieflower stammered, nose to Rabbitface’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Your family, back in SealClan, they can be strong for you. You can let yourself heal.”
“Like you?” Rabbitface spat. When Magpieflower sat straight, glaring at Rabbitface, the older queen stammered “I’m sorry, I’m so confused.”
“I understand,” Magpieflower admitted. “I haven’t handled things well either. Maybe we both need a compromise. If we can’t hide what we feel and we can’t let it consume us, maybe we need to balance those things. StarClan knows how we’d do it, but it’s not impossible, right?” Rabbitface stared at her family. All three toms sat together, occasionally glancing at the mollies, trying to give them privacy.
“Where will you go?” Rabbitface asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Magpieflower muttered, paw gently scraping the clouds.
“I really hope I remember this,” Rabbitface laughed brokenly. “Please, do what you think is right. Whatever you decide, we’ll meet in StarClan and laugh about this someday.”
“I can promise you that,” Magpieflower said, her own voice breaking. The two rubbed against each other, trying to press good luck and safety into their pelts. Rabbitface headed towards her family.
“Please don’t forget me,” Rabbitface cried.
“Of course we won’t,” Barkfrost chuckled, licking her ear. Owlstep and Sprucefoot rubbed against her, offering comforting licks. When they stepped back, Rabbitface glanced at Magpieflower. Magpieflower nodded. Rabbitface slowly approached the waterfall.
“So I just… jump?” Rabbitface muttered.
“You can do this,” Sprucefoot said. Rabbitface steadied her stance. With one strong leap, she jumped off the clouds and tumbled into the green and blue mist beyond the waterfall.
“That’s…” Magpieflower gulped, approaching the toms, “terrifying.”
“I’ll be taking my leave,” Sprucefoot sighed with a nod. “I won’t do much to affect Magpieflower’s choice.” Magpieflower awkwardly glanced away. “Good luck to you.”
“I’m sorry we weren’t—” Magpieflower began, but when she looked back, Sprucefoot was gone. Magpieflower shivered.
“I’ll be going too,” Owlstep said, “but first, some advice.”
“Of course,” Magpieflower stammered. Owlstep sat beside Magpieflower.
“I may not have been your mentor,” Owlstep muttered, “but I watched you throughout your training. You are a good warrior and a good cat. If you go to StarClan, helping Rabbitface will have been a worthy end.”
“Thank you,” Magpieflower muttered, dipping her head in respect. One moment Owlstep was beside her, but with a single blink, he vanished. All that remained of him was a bit of buffeting cloud. Magpieflower turned to Barkfrost.
“Walk with me?” Magpieflower gulped. Barkfrost silently strolled away from the paths. Magpieflower joined his side and stayed pressed against him, taking in his scent. He smelled alive, yet the glow he cast onto her gray fur only set them apart.
They were the only creatures roaming the pink world. The stars glittered above them, but there was nothing else to see. It was beauty beyond anything Magpieflower had ever seen, but she knew she wasn’t meant to stay here. She had to make a choice. Up? Or down?
“It’s lonely,” Magpieflower muttered. “I only liked walks when you were there.”
“Who says I’m not looking over you?” Barkfrost purred with a lick to Magpieflower’s ear.
“I, I’ve barely been able to do anything,” Magpieflower stammered. “I just sit there, wallowing in it.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave you.”
“I know you didn’t, but…” Magpieflower stopped walking, facing her dearly departed mate. “Now that I can see you again, I’m mad at you. I know I shouldn’t be, but you left me alone! I need you! How can I choose to leave you again?”
“Magpie,” Barkfrost huffed, eyes narrow. “Haven’t you learned anything today?”
“I learned that something has to give,” Magpieflower gulped, pacing around Barkfrost. “I’m holding myself back, but I don’t know if I’m right to feel everything I do. All I do is see you.” Barkfrost stared for a moment, thoughts churning. Then he approached her and touched his nose to her eyes.
“What…” Magpieflower stammered, batting at Barkfrost.
“Close your eyes,” Barkfrost ordered. Magpieflower bit back her frustration, almost wanting to refuse just to spite him for leaving, but she closed her eyes. “I’m not here anymore. Don’t listen to me. Listen to yourself. Where are you going?”
“No, Barkfrost, help me,” Magpieflower snapped. She could smell her mate, but he wouldn’t speak. “Barkfrost, tell me where I should go! I’m not the same without you! I need you!” She wanted to open her eyes, but she couldn’t. Something forced them closed, in her head, from StarClan?
“I’ll be a story-keeper if you want me to, Mom. Just tell me what you want.”
“Mothkit?” Magpieflower yowled, racing blind through the clouds. “Mothkit, I’m here!”
“I know she’s quiet, but she’s really nice! I like playing with her!”
“She gave me milk when my mom couldn’t!”
“Gravelkit?” Magpieflower stuttered. “Reindeerkit?”
“She believed I could be useful to the clan. Brinestar wanted to make me an elder forever! I’ll be proving him right if she dies.”
“Antlerpaw, no, you aren’t failing anyone!” Magpieflower snapped. “Barkfrost, where are these voices coming from?”
“I don’t know if my kits are coming back, I can’t lose you too.”
“Cuckoocloud,” Magpieflower whined. “I… am I that important to the clan? I’m too far gone to help them. Aren’t I?” She tried to picture Barkfrost standing in front of her in the clouds. Yet her memories warped and twisted his face. Where was his white patch? What color were his eyes? Pale blue? Pale orange? She just saw him, why can’t she picture him? Magpieflower couldn’t breathe. She wanted the voices to stop!
“I can’t decide for myself,” Magpieflower growled, “so here’s hoping my paws decide for me. I’ll see you again, Barkfrost!” Magpieflower ran forward, kicking up clouds behind her. Was she running the right way? She doubted it mattered. The path ahead was unknown. Would she land on the cloudy path to StarClan or tumble through the sky? She was lost, but maybe she could guide other lost souls. Watch over abandoned kits in StarClan? Or guide her family in SealClan? Either path would work.
Magpieflower jumped.
Magpieflower opened her eyes.
It was difficult, with sleep and grime crusted over them. They cracked softly as she awoke. Her head pounded and aches racked her body. The thick scent of herbs blocked her nose. She was at the back of the holy den. Dried lavender lined her nest and cradled her head. The sun lit up Emberpool’s herbs. It was morning. Where had she been last?
Oh StarClan, the snare! Rabbitface! She needed to wake up, regain her energy, find Rabbitface. Magpieflower lifted her head and stretched out her paws, they were always the first part of her body to wake up. Her right paw felt cold and dangled out of the nest while her other was tucked under her.. She wasn’t too surprised, it had been caught in a snare for hours. But as she pulled it back and tingling pains ran through her leg, Magpieflower stopped breathing.
Her leg ended a few kit-steps too soon. Where her lovely white paw had been was a red stained stump wrapped in cobwebs and slathered with poultices. Magpieflower whined quietly, heart racing. Where was her paw? How would she hunt? How would she fight? No, how would she even walk?
Something calmed her panicked thoughts. Magpieflower couldn’t put a name to it. It was like a lesson, first taught at the start of her apprenticeship, whose words and teacher had drifted from her memory.
“It’s okay,” Magpieflower whispered. “I’m alright.” Where was Emberpool? Maybe she could tell Magpieflower where Rabbitface was. She didn’t want to panic anyone more than she already had from being so careless. She just had to stand on three legs rather than four. Relearn how to walk. Magpieflower bit back her terror and shook out her back legs.
She sat up, holding her front right leg to her torso. She was so exhausted, but the snare had felt worse. She could handle it. Trying not to groan, she stepped out of the nest. She nearly set her missing paw down with her second step, but scrambled to catch herself with her left paw. The leg already stung. She just had to make it to the edge of the den. She took a big step that got her close enough.
SealClan was deep into their morning routine. Brinestar and Freckletuft talked to most of the warriors outside of their den. Railfur ate a cod by the Highrock. Mountainleap placed a trail of yellow petals, symbols of Sun’s radiance, across the camp entrance in some unknown ritual. Cuckoocloud laid outside the holy den, nose twitching in a dream. Was she waiting out there for Magpieflower?
“I can’t get this piece in,” Finkit whined to Magpieflower’s right. Most of the kits stood around the elder’s den, shoving pieces of bark through the ferns and brambles. Rabbitface and Jayleaf supervised them, sitting side by side. Rabbitface was okay!
“I’ll help you,” Jayleaf chuckled, trotting to his son. Walruskit strolled out of the nursery, tail high and crooked. Rabbitface turned to greet her other kit. The fur around her back left leg was mangled and torn up. Scars wrapped around the ankle, and she kept the foot off the ground.
“Where did you run off to?” Rabbitface asked.
“I put a spare piece of the spruce bark in our nest!” Walruskit explained. “For Sprucefoot and Barkfrost. It’s also in a way about Owlstep since birds make nests with wood sometimes and an owl is a bird.” Rabbitface’s ears lowered. She licked Walruskit’s head, but sadness wafted off her pelt. “Are you sad again?”
“Emotions are weird, Walruskit,” Rabbitface laughed, even as she started to cry. “I’m trying to let myself feel these things.” A bit of pride swelled in Magpieflower’s chest. Was Rabbitface finally grieving? Jayleaf rejoined his mate and rubbed against her, taking on some of her burden.
Mothkit emerged from the dirt place entrance, protected by ferns between the elder’s den and the holy den. As he absentmindedly glanced around camp, he met his mother’s eyes.
“Mom!” Mothkit screeched. Cuckoocloud jolted awake as Mothkit barreled into Magpieflower’s chest. Her kit was so big and she was so weak, she fell onto her back. She yelped as her aches grew and more pain shot through her missing paw.
“Careful,” Magpieflower groaned, rolling into a comfortable position. Cuckoocloud stared at her sister, pupils huge. Mothkit’s ears and tail sunk so low, they looked ready to fall off. His eyes were big, sad full moons.
“I thought you were going to die!” Mothkit cried, running into his mother again. Magpieflower pulled him between her paws.
“I wouldn’t leave you,” Magpieflower promised, crying not from grief or loneliness, but from hope.
“You’re finally awake,” Cuckoocloud gasped, pressing her head against her sister’s. “Emberpool said you had a fever and an infection, you were in and out so many times. They tried to save your paw, but they had to get rid of the infection.”
“I’ll handle it,” Magpieflower cried, taking in the scent of her family. Buzzing conversation fluttered outside the holy den. The clan had gathered around, peering into the shadows to see if Mothkit’s squeal was good or bad. The good news spread quickly.
“How are you feeling?” Beepelt asked.
“Are you in any pain?” Kitefall wondered.
“We’ve all been praying,” Needlecall purred.
“You must be starving,” Wrenlight huffed.
“Coastbrook, try to find Emberpool and Antlerpaw, tell them Magpieflower is awake,” Brinestar ordered. Lobsterspot squeezed through the crowd into the den.
“Everyone step back,” Lobsterspot snapped. “You’re overwhelming her.” SealClan grumbled a bit, but they moved away from the entrance. Lobsterspot crouched by Magpieflower and her sobbing son. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this,” Magpieflower huffed, clearing her throat.
“How are you feeling?” Lobsterspot asked.
“I’m in a lot of pain,” Magpieflower admitted, breathing deep. “I’m really confused. I’m grateful too. I feel different. Like a thunderstorm turned into a drizzle.”
“I’m not good with metaphors,” Cuckoocloud muttered.
“I think I understand,” Lobsterspot sighed with a comforting nod. “Emberpool won’t be upset if I give you some poppy seeds. She went to ElkClan to get advice from Partridgeleg on losing a limb, and with the fighting, she had to bring Sparrowsong and Salmonmask with as protection.”
“What fighting?” Magpieflower asked, chin nuzzling her son.
“I can’t believe I forgot about that,” Cuckoocloud grumbled, shaking her head. “There’s some things you should know. You’ve been fighting this infection for three days.”
“No,” Magpieflower gasped.
“That’s not the worst part,” Lobsterspot gulped. “SealClan is staying out of the conflict, and ElkClan is trying to see both sides, but things have intensified with the other clans. CliffClan and PuffinClan are at war.”