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"It's beautiful." Runningcloud said after the first birth, the second, the third, marveling at how the little paws and ears were shaped perfectly. Yellowfang rolled her eyes at the sentimentality each time, but they were soft after she looked at the kits. Soft and vulnerable like a cat's stomach during battle.
Runningcloud wanted to take all that hurt and wrap it up in himself so she didn't have to carry it all. He would curl around it until the pain quelled into something less, like the moon changing from full to a single claw. But Yellowfang wouldn’t share that ache inside of her until she was on her deathbed, and it was not Runningcloud’s place to force her.
But he could make her huff and shake her head in bemusement. He could remind her of the little things hidden beneath the pine needles and scent of parsley. Runningcloud owed her that much.
---
The first time Yellowfang tapped her tail on a spot in her nest, Runningpaw didn't know what to do.
"You're clearly cold as shit." Yellowfang said. "I know I don't smell great but at least you'll be warm."
"Oh." Runningpaw hesitated. "Are you sure you want me there? You don't have to."
"I wouldn't have asked had I not wanted you here." Yellowfang laid her head down. "Now get over here before I have to find another apprentice because my first one froze to death."
Runningpaw obliged, and Yellowfang surrounded him with her fluffy tail before muttering good night. Runningpaw was cacooned by thick gray fur on all sides.
He supposed this would remind some cats of the nursery.
("I never wanted any of you fucking brats.")
But not for Runningpaw.
He couldn't sleep despite being warmer than he had been since the beginning of leafbare. Warmer than Runinngpaw had been as long as he could remember.
There was a peculiar feeling, new and almost frightening. Runningpaw couldn't perceive harm coming to him at this very moment. It was as if Yellowfang was a wall from all the dangers of the world and he was the camp center, wonderfully alive.
Runningpaw woke the next morning to a tongue lapping his head. The sun wasn't quite up yet, the dawn stretching her orange and rose colored toes.
"It's the first snow of the year." Yellowfang murmured. "I wanted you to see it, supposed to be good luck."
"What's snow?" Runningpaw whispered. It felt impossible to raise his voice when the light made everything soft and glowing.
Yellowfang laughed lightly, not the loud snorking thing she usually did. "It's like cold water, but heavy and white."
Runningpaw could see it now, little sparkling drops fluttering in front of the entrance of the den. They fell lazily down, dusting the moss covered ground with white. "It's amazing!"
Yellowfang sighed, her breath tickling his ears. "Wait until it starts piling up, then we'll see if you still say that."
Runningpaw watched his breath form in awe. "But right now it's amazing."
"Yes." Yellowfang rested her chin on his head. "I suppose it is."
---
It was his first half-moon meeting and Runningpaw couldn’t stop glancing at Mudfur. In Shadowclan, most gawked after the siblings Mousewing and Crowtail. Their black pelts were most reminiscent to Shadowstar herself.
But Mudfur was Riverclan through and through. He was large and muscled from swimming, with the shoulders to match. Mudfur had sleek brown pelt with darker fur mottled throughout like waves. His eyes were the color of oak bracken sap, shining in the sun-
"Fallen into the Riverclan trap, haven't you?" Yellowfang's amusement startled Runningpaw from his daydreaming.
"Riverclan trap?"
"Everyone gets a crush on at least one." Yellowfang snorted. "I think they're all pompous assholes, but even I have one."
Runningpaw's eyes widened. "Who?"
Yellowfang's slightly tipped her ears at the cat next to Mudfur. A white and spotted molly named Brambleberry. She was laughing at something Featherwhisker said.
" Brambleberry ?" Runningpaw said before Yellowfang cuffed his ear. But it was too late, the other seers had turned back to look at him.
"Oh uh- my mentor," Runningpaw glanced at Yellowfang for support but her expression was highly unimpressed. "She- she was just telling me how, um, how great Brambleberry's treatment of Crookedjaw was."
Brambleberry blinked in surprise, and then her face softened into something absolutely lovely. "Why thank you," she said. "I was just doing my duty. It didn't completely work either, his jaw was never the same."
"Hey, give yourself more credit. You saved him from a nasty infection." Mudfur said and nudged her with his broad head. Runningpaw's face went hot and he kneaded his paws. Mudfur's voice was as deep as a bullfrog croak, but with none of its unpleasantness. "Cared more for him than his own mother ever did-"
"Mudfur." Brambleberry's voice held a warning, strange coming from such a gentle voice. "Let's keep going."
And so the seers continued. Runningpaw looked up at Yellowfang to apologize and found her whiskers twitching; something she did when she was particularly interested in an herb.
(Or someone)
"When there's no prey, a raven passes only once." Yellowfang said wisely. Runningpaw laughed. It was an old Shadowclan saying for this never happened.
“Hey Runningpaw!” The Windclan apprentice ducked under their mentor easily and slid next to Runningpaw. “How’d you get your name?”
“Barkpaw, don’t pester him.” Hawkheart growled. “It’s his first time at the sacred moonstone, not a gossip session.”
“It can be both!” Featherwhisker called from behind his shoulder.
“Anything’s a chance to gossip for you, Featherwhisker.” Yellowfang yelled back.
“I’m just improving interclan relations!”
“Uh huh, I’m sure your brother thanks you for that every day.” Brambleberry’s eye roll was visible from where Runningpaw was, and he stifled a giggle. She glanced back at Barkpaw and Runningpaw. “Go on you two, it’s good for future seers to get to know each other.”
“Yeah,” Mudfur hummed, “Or you could claw Runningpaw’s ears off in battle-”
“I said I was sorry!” Hawkheart interrupted loudly.
“You didn’t have to chase me over the ravine!”
“You were trying to steal kits.”
“ They were ours in the first place!”
Runningpaw and Barkpaw glanced at each other in the following tense silence. Then Mudfur chuckled, setting Runningpaw’s ears aflame again.
“Can you imagine Willowbreeze in Windclan?” Mudfur said.
“No,” Brambleberry said quietly. “She was born to swim.”
“Fur would’ve stood out too much anyways.” Hawkheart mused, and Runningpaw didn’t know amusement fit so well into his voice. “Far too long and vain for the moor.” Mudfur shook out his own long fur at that, and Hawkheart grunted at the apprentices to continue.
“I-I’m not sure why my mother named me like that.” Runningpaw laughed softly. “I was a sickly kit though- and she always said I’d be good at running away more than anything.”
“Oh,” Barkpaw voiced went down a tone and lifted with “Well, I asked because it suits you. You’d make a good Windclan cat!”
Runningpaw’s ears perked and he took a closer look at Barkpaw. He was a handsome tom with a lean face and smaller ears than usual for a Windclanner. His pelt was short furred and neat, much like Runningpaw’s. “Really?”
“Yeah!” Barkpaw nodded enthusiastically. “You should visit sometime.”
Runningpaw looked away as he felt his face grew warm. Not Barkpaw too. “I’d like that.”
---
It was no secret how Lizardstripe felt about her children.
"What do you want?"
"You're always in the fucking way."
"You can't do anything right."
"Why are kits so fucking useless."
"Don't touch me, you sick little brat."
"Why can't you do anything right?"
"Why are you playing with him, can't you even listen to directions?"
"If you can't listen, then you can't eat."
" Why are you so fucking useless."
It was no secret.
---
"Runningpaw, from this moment you will be known as Runningcloud, for you are to me what rain is to dry earth.” Yellowfang blinked at him, long and slow, and Runningcloud did the same back. "StarClan honors your optimism and intelligence and welcomes you as a full seer of Shadowclan. Now come, touch your muzzle to the Moonstone, and may all your dreams be good ones."
"Thank you," Runningcloud whispered as they settled by the stone. "I'll make you proud."
"You idiot." Yellowfang rubbed her cheek against his head. "I'm already proud of you."
Runningcloud dreamed of an empty moor, the sky an orange so deep it was edged with red. He walked to a hollow in the ground- the Windclan camp?- and found it empty. There were fresh nests in dens, imprints in the grass, and freshkill rotting, scattered around the center. But there were no cats there, just the lonely wind. He checked the seer’s den and found herbs thrown about, individual leaves with hints of blood along the ground.
“Barkface?” Runningcloud called. “...Hawkheart?”
His first dream as a full seer and not a single Starclan cat. He wasn't even in the right territory.
(You can't do anything right.)
Runningcloud's fur bristled from a sudden yowl. He ran to the sound, the yowling growing into wailing, the wailing turning into soul splitting screaming. Runningcloud emerged over a hill and saw Yellowfang surrounded by little blood covered bodies on gently rippling grass.
He woke with bile in his mouth and words trying to fight their way out of his throat. But Yellowfang was screaming and sobbing in her sleep, and the other seers were staring in horror. He poked her with his paw until she awoke, eyes wide and scared.
"I-I'm sorry," Runningcloud stammered. Yellowfang was gasping for air, and she kept glancing at her paws, as if she expected something to be on them. "But you were crying out. I hope I didn't do the wrong thing by waking you?"
"No," Yellowfang finally said, hauling herself back onto her feet. "No. I'm fine" She stared back down at her paws. "...I'm fine." One more time, quietly trying to convince herself.
"It was more than that," The bile in his throat nearly emerged from the memory of the small bodies surrounding her. "Yellowfang-"
"Enough!" Yellowfang snarled, whatever confusion from the dream leaving in an instant. She was on the defensive now, the Shadowclan warrior she once was baring its teeth. "We only share our dreams with our leader, not for fucking gossip."
"Yellowfang!" Runningcloud ran after her, ignoring her hiss as he slowed beside her. "Please, I saw the kits-"
"And it was nothing!" Yellowfang snapped. "It's going to be nothing, it has to be nothing."
"I just got named, and even I know that's not how it works."
"You're right, you did just get named." Yellowfang walked faster. "And as the elder seer I am telling you to leave it alone."
Runningcloud lashed his tail as Yellowfang stormed forward. "Walking faster isn't going to make it go away!" Yellowfang's answering growl was audible from where he was.
---
He started the night alone in his nest. He woke with Yellowfang curled tightly into a ball next to him, her fur blocking him from the cooling breeze.
---
His brother was quiet and strange, but Runningcloud was not afraid of him. Yes, his claws were unsheathed more often than not, and he rolled his eyes when Runningcloud came near him, but he was just ornery, not scary. When he was younger, Runningcloud envied him. Lizardstripe was thorns in moss bedding, digging into her children in a place that should have been safe. But Brokentail always had Raggedstar’s attention and a special warmth from Yellowfang.
(Runningcloud had been around Yellowfang enough to know that she did not notice the little mercies she gave to Brokentail.)
(Not many cats had a flat face in the clans.)
But if Lizardstripe was thorns in bedding, Raggedstar was overbearing sunlight. Yellowfang would tell Runningcloud when he was being stupid. Brokentail didn’t have that luxury from anyone. Runningcloud could not blame his brother for being blinded with Raggedstar’s platitudes.
The elders were more vocal about their opinions.
“It’s ill will towards Starclan, you know.” Hollyflower said during a check in for whitecough.
“What is?”
“The way Raggedstar treats you.” She sniffed “Seers are messengers of Starclan and he doesn’t bother to look at you or Yellowfang.”
“I’m sure he has his reasons.” Runningcloud said very carefully. Yeah, because he’s a bitter asshole. “He was chosen by Starclan after all."
"Yes, and everyday I wonder what they saw in him!"
The apprentices wisely chose that moment to burst into camp, yelling about Stumpypaw hanging from a branch with his jaws.
---
One day Cloudpelt was dragged back from the battle with his innards exposed. Yellowfang was so visibly desperate that at one point he had to rest his tail on her shoulder and say that Cloudpelt was dead. The gentle young tom was snow covered blood, his intestines spilling onto the ground. Yellowfang sat in front of him, her paws covered in red.
She was such a large cat in every possible way. Big words, big voice, big flat face, so much fur that he could press his face into it and feel it against the back of his head. But Runningcloud felt like a mother with their kit when he wrapped his tail around her and stretched up to lick her head.
Raggedstar was practically giddy as he made his son the new deputy, Cloudpelt not even out in the clearing for vigil. Brokentail did not seem to register who was sacrificed in his name, that the grief ridden voices were louder than the celebratory ones.
Runningcloud could not stop thinking about Stumpypaw, Brokentail's apprentice, who flinched away from every shout and raised paw.
---
Raggedstar was found with his stomach ripped open, intestines scattered around him and his tongue lolling in a pool of blood. Brokentail sighed and cried and screamed for the blood of Windclan. Nevermind the fact that Windclan was honorable above all else. Nevermind that not many warriors in Windclan had the strength to do such a thing to mighty Raggedstar.
"This feels off." Runningcloud said to the back of his mentor as she prepared the traveling herbs for the journey to the Moonstone. His tail twitched nervously on the ground. "You know this feels off-"
"Raggedstar was a violent cat." Yellowfang growled, her voice a tangled mess of everything she never told Runningcloud. "It wouldn't have been below him to start a fight with a Windclan patrol like that."
"Brokentail doesn't seem too broken up about it-"
"I know it's hard to comprehend liking your parents, but I expected you to have more empathy." Yellowfang snapped. Runningcloud's body reverberated with shock. Whatever his face looked like smoothed Yellowfang's fur and drained the harshness from her face.
"Death is the way of life, kid." Yellowfang said softly. "Leaders get nine lives. But in the end, they all go back to Starclan."
Runningcloud nodded mutely.
Yellowfang grabbed the herbs in her mouth and pressed her head to Runningcloud's on the way out of the den. He heard the clan cheer faintly as they begun their journey for the Moonstone.
Dread and shame and bitter tasting fear mixed in the pit of his stomach until the moon was high in the sky. He took some poppy seeds and tried not to cover his face with his paws as he fell asleep.
("You're always in the fucking way.")
---
The first thing Brokenstar did was apprentice a five moon old kit. He did not talk to the queens nor the elders. His new deputy, Blackfoot, kept his face blank although his ears twitched.
"He's mature enough." Brokenstar said. And sure, the clan could see it. Large shoulders and the promise of strength under the kit fluff. The queens and elders narrowed their eyes and lashed their tails, but nobody said too much.
New training regiments went into place soon after.
"We don't have enough supplies for this." Runningcloud said to Yellowfang as they treated their umpteenth cat for wounds from battle training. Brokenstar had made it so most practices were with claws unsheathed. "We're going to run out by leafbare if he doesn't slow down."
Yellowfang didn't respond. She was looking at the nursery, where Featherstorm was preparing to birth. It would probably be the elder queen's last litter.
"Yellowfang?" Runningcloud waited, his heartbeat loud in his ears.
She walked to him, her eyes searching his. And then she rubbed her cheek against his. Stunned, Runningcloud couldn't move.
"Get some sleep, kid." Yellowfang rested her head on her paws. "There's much to be done."
---
Brokenstar exiled the elders next. "They are draining resources necessary for warriors and queens." He said. "Shadowclan needs to be as strong as possible. The clan only needs to serve what has value to them."
"The elders do have value!" Nightpelt pushed ahead of the shocked elders. The warrior had retired early for his bad lungs. But that didn't mean the energy of youth had left. "They know what Shadowclan truly is, far more than you do, my apprentice."
"Blackfoot." Brokenstar smiled. "Tell me which clan won the last battle by the border."
"Shadowclan." Blackfoot said without emotion.
"Tell me, who won the battle before that?"
"Shadowclan."
"Tell me, everyone." Brokenstar lifted his voice. "At the gatherings, which clan do they fear?"
"Shadowclan!" The warriors and apprentices cried.
"Tell me, what have the elders said all this time?"
"They doubted you!"
"They disrespected you."
"They prayed for the battles to end."
"My clan." Brokenstar said. "The elders do not want Shadowclan to be strong. They want Shadowclan to be as soft as when a group of kittypets attacked our camp!"
Exclamations of fear, or mockery, filled the camp. Runningnose found Nightpelt's golden eyes, begging him to do something. He didn't have to.
"This is foolishness." Yellowfang stepped forward. "The elders hold the memories of Shadowclan-"
"Memories?" Brokenstar laughed. "Memories? Battles aren't won from kit time stories, seer."
Mockery at Yellowfang . Runningcloud expected a sharp rebuke, or snarl, anything.
Yellowfang bared her teeth, her face twitching. And then she stepped back without a word.
The elders left out of the gorse tunnel one by one. The last cat through was Nightpelt, who looked back at his clan. His gaze met Runningcloud's again, who couldn't keep it for long before glancing away in shame.
Runningcloud turned to Yellowfang, but she had already left for their den.
---
A twig broke beneath Runningcloud's paw and his world violently tumbled.
"What are you doing here?" Nightpelt had him pinned on the ground, teeth bared. "Were you sent by Brokenstar? I thought he wanted nothing to do with us-"
"No! I have herbs for the elders." Runningcloud wheezed. "Hollyflower has lung issues, she needs coltsfoot."
"You came on your own?" Nightpelt said. "You're not afraid of Brokenstar?" He backed off and let Runningcloud recover.
"Oh no, I am." Runningcloud licked his chest fur, embarrassed. "But I have a duty of care toward my clan, and that will always include the elders."
Nightpelt blinked, his owl yellow eyes the only visible part of him in the cloudy night. Then he dipped his head and led the way to the elders camp.
Runningcloud visited every chance he got under the guise of looking for herbs. Nightpelt would wait in the same spot the first meeting was, and each journey to the elders camp grew more and more amiable. Soon Runningcloud could spot Nighpelt anywhere, no matter how dark the shadows were.
Yellowfang didn't say a word about it. He wondered if she missed his weight pressed against her spine. He wondered if powerlessness was a learned and practiced behavior.
---
“What are you doing. ” Runningcloud yelled at Brokenstar as soon as Blackfoot wasn’t visible. Runningcloud’s paws were trembling, and he couldn’t look his brother in the eye. “Every cat here has wounds that need to be treated because you keep sending them into battle, and you just exiled a seer.”
Brokenstar slid down the rock, eyes boring into Runningcloud, his long claws scrapping against the stone as he did so. “Then train another. Pick a kit and be done with it.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Then make it work.” Brokenstar snapped and Runningcloud flinched and pinned his ears back. Brokenstar was very close now, his stinking breath warming Runningcloud’s ear. “Remember when we were kits, dear brother? What we used to call you?”
Runningcloud closed his eyes tightly. “Yes.”
“Do you remember what you used to call me ?”
(you sick little brats)
Brokenstar pulled away and bounded back to the rock. “Cats of Shadowclan! Since you are already here, I have another announcement to make.”
“Runningcloud’s name is no longer suitable. I name him Runningnose.” Brokenstar smile was saccharine. “To honor his capacity for healing and courage in the face of a cold.” Brokenstar’s posse and some of the kit-apprentices laughed and oh Runningnose could see what he was doing. The elder seer was gone, and there was a stupid runt in her place. Who would listen to a healer named Runningnose?
Runningnose glanced at the gorse tunnel.
How easy it would be to leave. He could try right now. Maybe they’d try and stop him, maybe they’d kill him. But that would still be freedom. Runningnose looked back over the clan, most of whom avoided his gaze, but glanced at him with pleading faces. Shadowclan had been the most spiritual clan once, Yellowfang had told him. Perhaps they still were, if silent prayers over blood and bone were counted.
Runningnose went back to his den and laid in Yellowfang’s nest.
(For you are to me what rain is to dried earth)
---
Runningnose woke. He barely slept. He hunted. He scavenged for herbs. He watched someone die. He scavenged for herbs. He watched children die. He watched mothers scream in grief. He watched fathers as their eyes go blank. He watched children die. He treated a kit who got his paw ripped off during training. He visited the elders. He slept. Runningnose refused to make up an omen for Brokenstar. Brokenstar grabbed his scruff, dragged him in the middle of the camp and toar his ear off. He faked an omen for Brokenstar. He watched children die. He watched kits be born and can’t muster anything but an apology. He treated a belly wound on a kit no bigger than his paw. He watched-
How nice it must be. Runningnose thought as he stepped into the marsh mud. "To sink and never return. To be a soul nobody knows. To feed the trees and reeds. To be useful for once-
Runningnose stopped walking.
The mud was above his elbows.
He was there for a long time, listening to the frogs croak, and pines whisper in the breeze. The air was getting cooler. Leafbare must be approaching soon.
“Runningnose.” Nightpelt’s voice rang from behind him. “Come back out of the water, my friend.”
"I don't think I can."
Nightpelt was quiet and then. "Alright." Runningnose heard him leave and he was alone again.
A little while later Runningnose heard others come to the land by the water. There was a splash and now Nightpelt was standing by him.
"Come back to the shore, Runningnose." Nightpelt said. "The other elders and I have some food for you."
"I don't think I can treat you right now." Runningnose croaked back. His voice was hoarse from misuse. "I'm not...I'm not feeling very well."
"We're not asking you to treat us." Nightpelt's tail rested on his back. "We're asking you to come out of the water and share a meal."
Runningnose finally moved and let Nightpelt lead him back, like Yellowfang did through the tunnel to mothermouth. When he got back on to dry land, Runningnose stared at the mud dripping down his legs.
"Lay down." Nightpelt licked the seer's head. "We'll take care of it." Runningnose relented, lying on his side. His eyes were half closed as the elders shared tounges with him, and Nightpelt told stories.
"In the old days," Ashfur's whiskers twitched. "Well I wouldn't say, too old. But in the old days, seers were respected in Shadowclan. Their power really was second to the leader itself. You remember the story of Redscar?"
Runningnose shifted his head.
"I'm glad, that brute Raggedstar didn't let us tell it-but anyways. After that happened, Seers were valued a lot more by the clan. Before Raggedstar, prayers weren't just every empty moon, but every morning, sunhigh and evening."
"Oh, and the celebrations." Archeye sighed. "We used to find flowers and decorate the camp for the first new moon after the grass reached belly level. That was when Greenleaf arrived."
"The kits would get a little honey too, as it represents the season of the young." Hollyflower licked the top of his nose and Runningnose risked a purr. Her eyes were kind, and the scent of something other than blood was comforting.
"How's Dawnpaw?" Featherstorm wasn't near the rest of them. Brokenstar was her grandson. While the rest of the clan didn't blame her, Runningnose didn't think she was quite there herself.
"Dawncloud." Runningnose said gently. He gathered his strength and forced himself off his side into a crouch. "She's... on her second litter."
Featherstorm froze and a ripple went through the elders. "She's barely a year old." The eldest queen's voice was trembling with rage. "Who-"
"I don't know." If ever there was a cat to exemplify Brokenstar's reign, it was sweet Dawncloud. Born early, apprenticed early, made a warrior early, and made a mother early. She had known maternal grief before she had known a full year.
(Little Blossomkit, like blood on snow. She used to follow him and watch with shining eyes. He could have asked for her as his apprentice. He could have saved her.)
(She was so tiny that a single leaf nearly covered her body.)
(He tried. He tried so hard.)
"Could you bring her out here?" Featherstorm whispered. "So I can see her?"
"She's too close to kitting." Runningnose said. "But after, I will."
Featherstorm dipped her head and shuffled away with her head low. Archeye shared a look with Hollyflower and went after her.
Runningnose stood. He pressed his face into Nightpelt's shoulder and took a deep breath first. Nightpelt smelled of fresh prey and pine and the crisp grass, like how Shadowclan should've been.
Runningnose left then, he had work to do.
---
The moor was painfully beautiful at night. Runningnose walked alone through the tall grass. There were no Windclan warriors here to trod upon the ground anymore, and so the vegetation grew without abandon. He found the camp empty. Even the scents were beginning to fade, soon there would be nothing to signify Windclan was ever here.
Runningnose stepped into the medicine den and was met with a corpse rotting on the ground. A Windclan warrior by the looks of it, their face stuck forever in a snarl to defend their home. Barkface must of tried to drag them out before having to run with the rest of the clan. Runningnose’s gaze followed the blood trail to its beginning: A red splattered wall, with Clawface’s stink over the brown fur stuck to the blood.
No wonder Shadowclan was like this now. What kind of clan attacked a seer? What kind of clan left a corpse in the Windclan seer’s den? Did they know what horror was justified now against Shadowclan?
Of course they don’t, Runningnose thought as he drew a paw over the cat’s eyes to close them. Brokenstar would kill a cat by the moonstone just because they weren’t walking fast enough.
Windclan left their dead as they lived: out in the open. They let the elements and vultures take their fill under the endless vastness of Starclan. This cat had come to the defense of Barkface when all else was lost, they deserved what they were owed.
Runningnose grabbed the scruff of the corpse and dragged it, toadlength by toadlength to the center of camp. If any other clan cat came here, they would know what Shadowclan had done, what he had left Windclan to. This cat was Runningnose’s sacrifice, as much as they were Barkface’s unwilling one.
The load suddenly lessened, and he staggered the last few steps with far more ease. When Runningnose settled his burden down, Mudfur was there.
“Starclan, Runningcloud.” Mudfur said. “I knew something was wrong when you stopped going to the half-moon meetings but-”
“Runningnose.”
“What?”
“It’s Runningnose now.”
Mudfur gave him a look. “Neither you or Yellowfang have been to the moonstone with us recently. Who renamed you?”
Runningnose stayed silent and shuffled his paws. It felt like saying his brother’s name would summon him, like the nursery nightmare he was.
“Runningnose.”
"Brokenstar did."
Mudfur's eyes widened. "And you let him?"
"What was I supposed to do?" Runningnose said. A spark flickered in his chest. A spark of irritation . "Say no?"
"You're a seer." Mudfur shook his head. "Don't you know your own power?"
"The warrior code says the leader's word is law " Runningnose looked down. His claws were filthy. "I didn't know what to do." He startled when Mudfur's tail covered his.
"Take care of yourself, alright?" Mudfur's were kind as he looked down on Runningnose. The spark of irritation grew. "Let yourself rest."
Runningnose smiled bitterly. "I don't think I'm worth taking care of. If I ever was."
"Starclan chose you for a reason."
"Starclan chose Brokenstar." Runningnose shook his head and hunched his shoulders. "They didn't choose me. I asked for this."
"Alright then, Yellowfang chose you for a reason." Mudfur said. "And Yellowfang rarely makes mistakes."
Oh.
Oh.
Runningnose desperately wanted to laugh. It wasn't...it wasn't her fault. It wasn't.
Whose-?
("Why are kits so fucking useless.")
No. Yes? Maybe some tender moment of mother's love would have saved his brother. Maybe Runningnose playing with him as a child would have. Maybe-
Runningnose left Mudfur without a word and walked back to the marshes.
It didn't matter anyways.
---
The fluffy gray kit would be a great warrior, and that's what worried Runningnose.
Cower , he prayed to the stolen child as he checked her over with Dawncloud's barely adequate paw over the hissing kit. Please whimper, cry, anything but this.
"Hi." The brown and white kit apprentice- Littlepaw? Crouched in front of the gray kit. "I know it must be confusing, What's your name?"
"Cinderkit. I'm three moons old." She narrowed her eyes. "What do you care?"
"It's scary, being away from home." He said softly, with more wisdom than a young apprentice should have. "And your brother got hurt. But I promise the queens are nice, they'll take care of you."
"Okay." Cinderkit kneaded her tiny paws.
Dawncloud looked pointedly at Runningnose.
"These kits are two moons old." He said. "They have at least another moon before apprenticeship."
Dawncloud nodded. Cinderkit blinked slowly.
Thunderclan would come for them. They would rip through Shadowclan like claw over a leaf. Runningnose should have felt fear, and there was a thread of it running through his spine. But excitement made his steps lighter on the way to the elders camp.
"Be prepared for Thunderclan." He told the elders. "Change is coming for Shadowclan."
"What if they try to change us ?" Hollyflower said. "Our hearts are 'made cold by the north wind' after all. What if they decide that we should be put under their guidance?" The others muttered agreement.
"We won't let them." Nightpelt stepped forward with his head and tail high. Runningnose's chest filled with a ridiculous sense of pride. "Shadowclan has been corrupted enough under Brokenstar. No more!"
---
After the battle, Yellowfang came to Runningnose. They sat at the entrance of their old den.
"I'm staying in Thunderclan." Yellowfang said. The ginger apprentice who attacked Brokenstar himself was glancing at her from across camp. "Spottedleaf is dead, and they need a seer."
"And after a new seer is trained?"
Yellowfang sighed, and looked to the leader's rock in silence. Her fur was well groomed and she had gained some weight. Somebody had been taking care of her.
"I can't do this anymore, not here." Yellowfang said. "Shadowclan turned its back on me the second something went wrong. I can't do that again Runningnose, I'm sorry."
Runningnose dipped his head. He should've expected this. He should not have had any distant dream of things going back to normal, mentor and apprentice. His name wasn't even the same for Starclan's sake.
It didn't stop his heart twisting when he watched Yellowfang leave with Thunderclan, knowing with certainty that they gave her something he couldn't.
---
Nightpelt and Runningnose sat at the Windclan and Shadowclan border, and watched the sun set.
"Are you ready?" Runningnose whispered. It felt right to, reverent of the colors painting the sky into night.
"Are you?" Nightpelt quirked an eyebrow. But his rapidly twitching tail betrayed his nerves.
"I've never done a leadership ceremony before." Runningnose kneaded his paws. "Yellowfang never told me how Raggedstar's and...how they work."
"That's alright. I'm sure other seers and and leaders have been through the same." Nightpelt rested his chin on Runningnose's head and purred. Both of their pelts were thin and short, but they were still warmer this close then far apart. Runningnose could only see the ink black of Nightpelt's fur and he purred too.
This was nice. Whatever it was. It was nice knowing Nightpelt would step back if he asked. It was nice knowing Nightpelt wanted to be this close.
Runningnose stepped back and actually studied his...Nightpelt's face.
Nightpelt eyes were marigold yellow, shining in contrast to his beautiful dark fur. His ears were large and one had a leaf Runningnose had put, the wound from the battle against Brokenstar. The battle Nightpelt had led on his clan's side.
Nightpelt blinked gently at him. "Are we ready?"
(Nightpelt's words from before were a lie. No leader and seer had really come after something like this. The worst part was that both of them knew it.)
---
They reached the Moonstone. The ceremonial words flowed out of him like a stream. Perhaps the memory of the countless times they had echoed on the stone walls left them there. The ritual hung in the air, heavy and thick until the next seer and deputy dragged themselves forth.
"Touch your nose to the stone." Runningnose said, breathless with excitement. "And wait."
The clearing they woke to was almost pitch black. There were stars in the sky, but their light seemed distant and far away. A single large and scarred tom waited. He had a certain arrogance in the set of his shoulders that was more familiar than anything: Raggedstar.
“Nightpelt.” Raggedstar’s voice held a regret that was never present in life. “We cannot give you the nine lives of a leader.”
Runningnose’s blood went cold. Nightpelt's face contorted with restrained rage. He opened his mouth and said "Why." But Raggedstar turned away and Starclan fractured.
They woke up. They were simply there surrounded by the numbing glory of Starclan, and then they weren't.
Nightpelt got up from his crouch and shared a look with Runningnose. His gaze was wide and glazed over, and he breathed heavily. He looked back to the still shining stone and raised his paw, claws unsheathed. Runningnose realized what he was doing a little too late,and bowled into Nightpelt just as the tips of his claws hit the shining surface. It made a strange screeching sound and left no mark on the Moonstone.
Runningnose couldn't move his mouth to speak. Nightpelt lay on the floor and Runningnose instead licked his fur like a mother comforting a child. Nightpelt finally got up when the light was waning, and pressed his head into Runningnose's shoulder. Runningnose pressed his cheek on the top of Nightpelt's head, and allowed himself to grieve.
"What are we going to tell the clan?" Nightpelt whispered.
"We won't." Runningnose's stomach twisted but the thought of the clan in anarchy because their seer was a coward steeled him. "The clan won't know."
Nightpelt stepped back from Runningnose. "How?"
Runningnose led Nightpelt out of the mothermouth. He went to a pond by the barn, and dipped his paw in the soft clay by the water. Nightpelt's head soon was adorned with its own star.
"I name you Nightstar, and welcome you as the leader of Shadowclan."
Nightstar closed his eyes tightly and dipped his head.
So it was. So it had to be.
--
For moons it was akin to a fever dream, everyone expected a break from this back into reality. Nobody slept the first nights, waiting for Brokenstar to come back with his warriors. The queens had a guard for the nursery, and the apprentices flinched away from upturned paws.
But Runningnose began to lead the evening prayer quietly, his voice growing more confident each night.
(The first night his voice was bitter. But Hollyflower knew the words without a single misstep, and she did not need his bitterness. She needed faith.)
Runningnose would wait for the sun and watch its toes grace the top of the pine trees, and he'd give prayer. The camp was empty during these moments at first. But eventually they sat outside their dens, ears pricked and eyes glancing. Soon they prayed with him, the litany of voices a soothing balm against the ragged weariness.
Nightstar never prayed. He merely sat and stared at the stars, or the rising dawn. But he was present and warm and that was enough for Runningnose.
Leafbare was here. That was obvious with each gust of wind and the quieting of the frogs. Each evening he'd go to Nightstar and reapply the clay. Each morning he'd count his stock before sleeping, and try to quell the anxiety curling in his stomach.
But despite it all, each day home was a kinder word, and each day clanmates sat closer without fear of each other's jaws upon their throats.
---
"This is my apprentice, Cinderpaw." Her face had lost most of the kit softness, and whatever was left was stolen by the narrowing of her eyes at Runningnose.
"Well met." They said to each other. Both of them knew that wasn't true.
---
One night after a gathering, Oakpaw sat at the entrance to the leader's den. Runningnose rubbed the clay against the moss of Nighstar's nest as the leader invited the apprentice in.
"What is it, Oakpaw?" Nighstar said softly when the young tom shuffled his paws and glanced at the ground. "You can always talk to me, it's alright."
Oakpaw and Brownpaw were the only two apprentices in Shadowclan, and they were beloved. Brownpaw was in Runningnose's den with a bought of whitecough, so Oakpaw had gone as Shadowclan's sole apprentice to the gathering.
"A-at the gathering, Swiftpaw of Thunderclan said," Oakpaw gulped. "He said Brokenstar was alive, and prisoner to his clan. He said Brokenstar was blinded by Yellowfang- sir? A-are you okay?"
Nightstar eyes were almost fully black. His breathing was heavy and quick, and Runningnose could see minute twitches along his tail.
"You did well Oakpaw, thank you for telling us." Runningnose jumped in. "You can get anything you want from the freshkill pile, alright?"
Oakpaw nodded quickly and dashed out of the den. Runningnose turned to Nightstar's and rested his tail on the leader's.
"Nightstar, look at me. Please."
Nighstar locked eyes with Runningnose. His breathing slowed and his body relaxed. He rested his head on Runningnose's shoulder, and Runningnose licked his ears to ground him.
"Sorry."
"No, no, it's alright." What Oakpaw said began to actually hit Runningnose. He closed his eyes. Brokenstar. Alive probably at the whim of Yellowfang. "It's- It's a lot."
"He's there, and they didn't tell us." Nightstar growled. "After everything he's done to us. They help chased him out, but think they have the right-"
"I know."
"This is why I couldn't get my lives. Starclan still considers him the leader of Shadowclan."
(The leader’s word is law. Kits under six moons shall not be apprenticed. Prey must first go to the elders. Rules, lines and stupid arbitrary bullshit as his mentor would say-)
"We have to kill him. For the good of the clan." Nightstar stepped back with his fur bristled. "But we can't do it alone."
(a battle-worn corpse in the seer's den)
"I know who we can ask."
---
"I'm sorry." Runningnose said to Barkface as they sat in his den. The leader's were outside discussing the plan against Thunderclan. Barkface had engaged in the niceties but otherwise said nothing.
"For what?"
"For not…" Runningnose shuffled his paws. "For this. For Brokenstar."
Barkface sighed. "That isn't your fault."
He was still beautiful, but it was tempered now. There were no mentors arguing over their heads anymore. "Then why are we like this."
"My clan was chased out." Barkface said bluntly. "And then we had bloodshed the same day we came back. Now we attack the clan who helped us with the same clan who drove us out. Nightstar didn't want us back-"
"And I'm sorry-"
"Why do you keep apologizing?" Barkface snapped.
"Because someone has to!" Runningnose paws ripped into the den floor. "I'm the seer."
"What Shadowclan or your leader does isn't your fault."
"Then whose is?"
Barkface said nothing.
—
They attacked Thunderclan the next day. Runningnose came home from the battle to find Brownpaw dead with foam in his mouth.
—
Burdock Root for rat bites. (Brownpaw had become an apprentice when there were no elders. They would've told tales of a vicious sickness that came from the maw of carrionplace.)
Horsetail for infection. (The disease spread from Brownpaw to the elders, to the kits, to the queens and warriors.)
Ragweed for strength and energy. (A group of the Shadowclan warriors came, led by the former Thunderclan deputy. But Nightstar was too desperate for questions.)
Comfrey for joint pain. (Runningnose's days blurred together until his knees collapsed and he was the one in the mud gasping for fever sweet air.)
Ivy leaves for storing other herbs.(Next time Runningnose awoke he was in the leader's den with Nightstar wrapped around him, purring. As if his song would ward off the sickness.)
Lavender and mint for hiding the smell of death. (They started to pile the bodies outside of camp, which sank into the marsh and Shadowclan stank of death)
Thyme for anxiety and shock (Runningnose woke one day with his fever broken, but beside him Nightstar lay heaving through congested lungs)
Borage Leaves for nursing queens and fevers (Runningnose did not leave Nightstar's side. A kit was dying but there was nothing to be done. If Nightstar died without him there, he would not forgive himself.)
---
Runningnose woke and found that he was cool. Perhaps Nightstar's fever had finally broken? He shifted so that his paw was stretched over his friend, gently touching his stomach for temperature
Nightstar was ice cold.
Runningnose suddenly alert, checked over his body. Nightstar was curled in a fetal position, his limbs stiff and awkward. There was drool mixed with blood trailing out of his mouth. Nightstar had passed while Runningnose was fast asleep.
( Why are you so fucking useless.)
Runningnose front legs shook as they attempted to hold all of his weight. He collapsed on to Nightstar's body, the black tom's skinny haunches digging into his belly.
"I'm sorry." He rasped into Nighstar's fur, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
(Why can't you do anything right?)
"You deserved better than this." Runningnose whispered. He licked Nightstar's head and tasted clay on his tongue. They had put it there for the ruse, reapplying it every morning. Nightstar always had a gentle smile for Runningnose after these little sessions, no matter how bad their dreams were.
"May Starclan-" Runningnose's weak voice faltered as the taste of clay filled his mouth. "May Starclan-"
He couldn’t finish the prayer.
---
Was this all there was to the world? Death and its indignity, turning cats hollow inside. Runningnose would just get more empty until one day he would open his mouth and flies would come out. Yellowfang hadn't come back after all, she was smart. She looked deep into Shadowclan and found its rotten core. Yellowfang searched Runningnose, and saw nothing worth returning to.
Shadowclan deserved this.
He deserved this.
(Neither of them had ever said love. It was too perilous, too warm when fever was already ripping through the clan.)
(There was a hole in the roof of the den. Runningnose watched the stars blink out into the weak morning light, the only sound his own hitched breaths, he realized that they should of.)
(Starclan would suck out all the warmth Nightstar had)
---
It was morning.
If Runningnose told the truth, the clan would cry its final death kneel. What kind of clan had an unblessed leader die and be left with no future? No, they needed hope. Hope Runningnose didn't have, nor could pull out of his chest. His mind was in that heavy marsh, stinking and slow. A bubble of a thought finally escaped: a self fulfilling prophecy. He couldn't wish nine lives into existence but perhaps inspiration would strike someone from the clan, give credit to them being the prophet.
Runningnose licked Nighstar's head one last time.
It wasn't like they had anything to lose.
---
Tigerclaw brought him prey after.
"I'll lead Shadowclan for now." Even Tigerclaw seemed small and unimportant in the face of the space Nighstar left behind. "Until a new leader is chosen by Starclan."
"Of course." Tigerclaw dipped his head. "Nightstar granted allowance for my warriors and I help to Shadowclan. He let me form patrols and hunting parties. Will you do the same?"
The thought of organizing everything when the clan still lay dying made Runningnose dizzy. It was just for now. He could give that to Tigerclaw for now. "Alright."
Tigerclaw's eyes were solid amber. Like Runningnose's brother's. It shouldn't have mattered.
The sickness finished running its course. Runningnose could count better then most of his clan but when he tried to focus on how many were gone, his mind sank into the marsh. The rogue warriors were welcomed back into Shadowclan permanently. There wasn't much strength left to resist, but Runningnose saw his grief reflected back in them, and let whatever reservations he had go. The clan seemed to do the same.
(They had to, and sometimes resentment came bubbling too close to the surface. But it was better then being a ragtag bunch of half dead cats.)
There were no prayers in the morning or evening anymore. But the clan still gathered. Nightstar's spot stayed empty until Tigerclaw one night sat there. Nobody said a word. Runningnose swallowed whatever howl crawled up: the clan needed Tigerclaw more than they needed Runningnose's grief.
---
Littlecloud came into the seer's den one afternoon. He's eyes and paws were stained with red and dirt.
"I want to become a seer." The small tom said softly. "Please let me become your apprentice."
Runningnose had tried thinking of an apprentice before. His mind always ended up sinking. It was hard to even picture another cat sleeping beside him in the seer's den other then Yellowfang.
"Why?" Runningnose said. "You won't get power, nor much recognition. You'll be run ragged and the clan won't care. So why?"
"The only thing I know how to do is to take lives." Littlecloud looked at his stained paws. "I'm not good at that, and I don't want to be. The only other thing is watching cats die." He looked at Runningnose then, his eyes haunted with familiar pain. "I'm tired of that."
"I'm sorry to tell you that as a seer, that's never going to stop."
"But I could do something ."
From what he heard, Whitethroat left with Littlecloud. Whitethroat was never seen again.
"I'll let you try."
---
Runningnose watched a tigermoth alight on the stack of cobwebs.
His prophecy had come true after all.
---
"Yellowfang's dead." Fireheart said and oh, Runningnose had to close his eyes to stop the world from spinning. Oh, oh.
Yellowfang , Runningnose thought as he watches the young deputy leap onto the stone not out of ambition or want, but because someone had to keep his clan from falling apart. Yellowfang, you chose better this time.
Wasn't that ironic? The sons Yellowfang had chosen, and they were leaders of clans but without the nine lives to their names. The world on their shoulders with Starclan quietly watching to see if they would trip and fall. When they did, they would be shredded into plague shaped little pieces. Like Brokenstar with tiny kits, blissfully obedient and scared and desperate to please.
Molepaw, Volepaw . The thought made him sick. Runningnose closed his eyes again and apologized. To who? He did not know where to begin.
A tail tapped his shoulder. He opened his eyes to find Cinderpelt, her face more weary than last moon, watching him with concern. "I'm okay." He said to her unspoken question and she dipped her head.
"Fireheart found her while she was dying." Cinderpelt said quietly, looking off into the distance. "She wasn't alone when she passed."
Runningnose swallowed the lump in his throat. Cinderpelt had grown into her wisdom and sharp tongue and oh Yellowfang, you chose well. "Thank you."
Yellowfang, Runningnose held his breath when Tigerstar jumped on to the stone and Blackfoot sat at the deputy's spot. Would you be proud of me?
---
Such is the way of seers, to be the most and least powerful figure in a clan. To have no family, yet have all the clans as their kin. They were walking paradoxes, doomed to hold the wisdom of generations and doomed to have that wisdom be shoved back into their throats the second the leader didn't want to hear it.
Such is the way Runningnose thought as Mudfur watched his daughter's spine slip out of her body. The great tom caught Runningnose's eye, asking a question. But Runningnose answered it long ago, he had nothing left to offer.
---
It's happening again . Runningnose thought as Tigerstar announced Tigerclan, as if Shadowclan was his to simply wipe away. Littlecloud glanced at him with large blue eyes, like Runningnose knew what to do. It's happening again but I can't-
I can't-
---
Runningnose went to the Moonstone the night after Tawnypaw came. Dawncloud waiting there pierced his heart like a thorn. The last time he saw her, she was dead on a pile of plague bodies, whose lives were forfeit from the moment they became sick.
Runningnose was tired. He was so tired. "Why." He asked. All the anger that had built left when he saw poor Dawncloud. Perhaps it was on purpose, but what was he going to do against the mighty Starclan. "Why did you give him nine lives when Nightstar-" he choked
( Come back to the shore, Runningnose)
"Nightstar deserved better." Runningnose's voice shook. "I didn't know what happened in Thunderclan. Why didn't any of you tell me?"
Dawncloud just stared. There were little shapes weaving around her paws, meowing at her.
“Because I didn’t kill him soon enough.” Yellowfang said from behind him, and Runningnose froze. “I was stupid.”
“No.” Runningnose said, shaking his head violently. “No. You don’t- you don’t get to come here and do this-”
“He was my son,” Yellowfang said with a voice like reeds wrapped too tightly around a wound.
“I already knew that!” Runningnose turned around and saw himself in the clear waters of Starclan: He had always been lean and small, but the last year had exaggerated every weakness. He looked like a weasel in leafbare, except that his large ears were literally shredded to the skull. Runningnose tore his eyes away from the shape of a cat he had become. “I thought I was yours, too. I thought-”
(Tigerclaw was the only cat in Shadowclan whose pelt shone with health. He was the only one who had brought Runningnose prey after Nightstar’s death)
(desperation tasted like the blood of kits and diseased rat)
(or perhaps it tasted like false hope)
"I thought I was worth something." Runningnose spat and his voice cracked hard. "You made me see I was worth something, and then you never came back."
"Thunderclan needed a seer."
"Shadowclan was dying. "
"And you were named and capable." Yellowfang lifted her head. "You did your best."
"And it wasn't enough!" Runningnose shouted, his voice raised for the first time since the night everything really fell apart. "I failed."
He closed them and hunched in on himself, too afraid to see the disappointment on his mentor's face. The ugly pit of his stomach wrangling until he was a shaking ball of tension. He failed. He failed .
"We gave Tigerstar the nine lives." Dawncloud spoke, eight voices behind hers. "Because we have faith he will be stopped. Shadowclan needed him."
"We needed him because you gave Brokenstar nine lives." Runningnose chuckled, his voice twisting into knots." What do you care?"
Dawncloud changed until she was a kit again, with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen.
( You're so fucking stu-)
"I'm sorry." He rasped. "I- I didn''t…"
"Idiot apprentice." Yellowfang's voice surrounded him. " You don't see beyond your own misery. Wake up."
"Runningnose?" Littlecloud. Sweet Littlecloud. Who woke him to see the first sunrise of greenleaf. "Are you alright?" Littlecloud, whose very body gave him the right to be bitter and cruel and sharp. But he wasn't. He was...he was beautiful.
Runningnose pressed his head to Littlecloud's and purred. His apprentice startled, but hesitantly purred back. It was the most wonderful thing he ever heard. "Runningnose?"
"Let's go home." The elder seer of Shadowclan said to his apprentice. "There's much to be done."
---
It was almost comforting, how easily death came for Tigerstar. How many times life looked him in the face and declared him devastatingly mortal. Maybe there was a strange kind of mercy for Nightstar: watching him die nine times would have killed Runningnose just as thoroughly.
There were doubts in Shadowclan. Yes, Blackfoot was owed leadership by the right of the warrior code. But so was Brokenstar . If not in the clan's thoughts, it was on their faces, their tense shoulders, their ragged pelts and the queens baring their teeth from the nursery every time the deputy passed. Blackfoot, Runningnose and Littlecloud left under a cloudy sky, and the clan was silent behind them.
Blackfoot towered over both of the seers, but he was patient to wait when Runningnose ran out of breath, or Littlecloud's short legs faltered. They slept before going into the cavern, and for once his dreams were quiet. He was at the marsh, listening to the little creatures wake to the rising sun. There was dew sparkling by his paws and the wind held promise of rich hunting.
Runningnose woke refreshed and smiled at Littlecloud sleeping in a ball back to back with Blackfoot's relaxed sprawl. Brokenstar and Tigerstar in the same position with him would have been impossible.
He led them to the Moonstone, closed his eyes, and took a slow breath.
His last two times here were with leaders he chose. They were both mistakes, one way or another. Nightstar and Tigerstar were his failures as much as anyone else's. Runningnose hadn't chosen this leader. If Starclan did not want Blackfoot, then Runningnose would do nothing but tell the clan and pray a sign for another cat would come. That was it. He couldn't do this again.
Runningnose opened his eyes. "Touch your nose to the stone and let them come to you."
---
A clan's worth of breaths were held during Blackstar's early moons. Peace was a tremulous thing that was only the prelude to more violence. They did not trust themselves nor the warrior sleeping next to them. Who knows which side the cat next to you would take when the leader inevitably turned tyrant.
But Blackstar was fair and honest. He wasn't kind, but the last kind leader of Shadowclan died with that bleeding heart seeping out of his throat, and so the clan accepted it.
The first thing Blackstar asked Runningnose was if he wanted his name changed back. "It's only proper." He said. "For a seer to have an honorable name."
"I am not honorable." Runningnose said. "I just survived. That's all."
"The clan survived with you." Blackstar said. "In Shadowclan, survival is a victory."
"That hasn't worked for a long time."
"We can change the meaning of what it is to survive." Blackstar flicked his ears. "But you may keep your name if you want."
---
"Littlecloud, I name you a full seer of Shadowclan. May all your dreams be good ones." His apprentice's eyes were shining. Barkface had nudged his shoulder in gentle acceptance. Mudfur smiled at him like he understood now and Cinderpelt congratulated Littlecloud with a lick to the forehead. The Moonstone shone so very bright, illuminating Littlecloud's blue eyes and the scar over his nose.
Runningnose slept through the night with dreams of cats leaping through the trees, and Littecloud woke with dreams of jumping so high he felt like flying. Starclan was finally kind.
---
Then Tawnypelt disappeared. If Blackstar snapped more and Russetfur began to look to the sunrise, Runningnose did not mention it.
And then.
The camp was.
Runningnose was in Shadowclan, sharing a piece of prey with Littlecloud.
Runningnose watched a monster wreck the elders den.
It all went blank.
---
"The sickness was a punishment from Starclan," Blackstar's sneering voice echoed. "For Nightstar's leadership. It doesn't have anything to do with the rats now."
A yell got stuck in his throat and stubbornly refused to move. But the world was dark and muddled like a carrionplace puddle anyways. It didn't matter what he said, Runningnose knew that by now.
---
Runningnose came to on Sunningrocks with Littlecloud licking his fur. His breath tasted like chamomile and poppy.
"What happened?" Runningnose asked. As if the entire clan ending up at Sunning Rocks didn't have a clear answer.
"Shadowclan territory is gone."
Blank again.
He resurfaced sometimes. The mountains. Cinderpelt. Littlecloud. Smokepaw. Oh Starclan Smokepaw. Nightwing wretched and screaming, reaching out to her son. Nightstar attacking the Moonstone-
Runningnose drifted.
—
He woke up one day and his chest and joints hurt so much that Runningnose couldn’t move. The looming dread had settled on his fur like dew, acceptance of the end finally coming.
He would not get up from here.
The earth beneath was spongy and smelled sharply of pine, and the light breeze from the lake ruffled his fur, smelling like salt and fish. The sun was just beginning to stretch it’s toes at the edge of the sky.
“Are you okay, Runningnose?” Littlecloud said. His apprentice was next to him, looking at him with those big blue eyes. They were kit-like despite him never getting a chance to be a kit.
"I'm alright. I think- my name-" Runningnose could see the clan from here. They watched the sunrise with hope and weariness and the strength to survive written in their steady gazes. He hadn't failed, not completely. "My name is Runningcloud." He said. "My name was always Runningcloud."
Littecloud smiled sweetly. It's the look he gave to kits and grandparents and Cinderpelt at the half-moon meetings. "Okay, Runningcloud. I'll see you later, alright? I'll see you later."
"I'm so proud of you." Runningcloud closed his eyes. They were too heavy to lift now. "I didn't know I could do something good before you."
"Oh, Runningcloud." Littlecloud settled next to him, and put his chin on top of his mentor's. "Of course you could."
Runningcloud purred quietly as cold spread from his paws to his heart. When he opened his eyes next, he was overlooking his clan. There was a skinny black tail curled over his and he smiled with pure reckless joy.
"It's beautiful."