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The crickets and cicadas sang their songs, and a light breeze rippled through the long grass. Even the trees held their breath as the silent parade of cats padded through the field. They left no pawprints in the soft soil, left no indent in the fronds they trod through.
A whisper of anticipation came from the world itself. Every frog and squirrel and blackbird seemed to pause to take in the ethereal beauty of the river of the dead, marching steadily on into the cool night.
Though he kept his head straight, Graystripe could see the light growing brighter around him. The cats beside him- his Clanmates, now- seemed to glow. Fireflies darted and swooped among the crowd until they came to a comfortable halt, fixed in the air around their chosen cat. Their blinks grew brighter and more frequent until they had become little more than stars, adorning the fallen. Jewelry, medals, trophies of the lives they had lived and the respect they had earned.
The cats in front tilted their heads up to the sky, all moving as one. The motion rippled back through the line as they padded on; it was almost involuntary. It felt natural, as if he was a part of something much bigger than himself. Was this how his claws felt, he wondered, when he commanded them to move?
He didn’t feel as though the horde was making any progress. No mystical light opened in the sky, no climbing trail of pawprints for them to follow into Silverpelt. But the moonlight shone brighter on the grass, tinting it a sleepy blue, and the bodies pressing around him became more solid, more visible.
The aches, the splitting pains throughout his body that had been present since his recent death, began to soothe, and his head started to clear. And were those figures in the fields around him, or were they tricks of the light and shadow?
Graystripe could make out no faces, but there were certainly cats perched around the landscape, solidifying with every pawstep. A cluster of stripes here, a scattering of freckles there, a flash of bright orange eyes in the dark.
Here and there, the features drew into sharper and sharper relief until he could recognize the cats around him. Nobody he knew, but faces at a Gathering, voices heard in the roar of a battle. Cries of recognition rang out as cats began to break from the meandering parade.
A strange mixture of fear and yearning twisted in Graystripe’s chest. He broke off from the crowd, but surely it wasn’t wise, with all the rolling expanses of StarClan’s unfamiliar territory, to strike off on his own in search of lost friends and kin. No, word would spread. StarClan had been reconnected with the living world, and everyone would be coming to see the tormented souls united with the stars for the first time.
Graystripe approached the woods, scanning the shadowed trees for familiar faces. A rapid patter of pawsteps came from the dark, a reckless rustling of twigs and leaves scattering across the ground.
“DAD!” Came a cry, and moments later, Briarlight zoomed over, her hind legs dragging behind her with no risk of cuts or infection to slow her down, and she crashed into him with a solid force- warm and lovely and real .
As she shook with disbelieving sobs, muzzle buried in the thick fur ringing his neck, he ran his paw up and down her back, dipping in her shoulderblades. He could touch her. She was here, after so many seasons of grief.
Out of the corner of his tear-blurred eyes, Graystripe spotted a rusty orange pelt, like the last traces of sunset. He lifted his head, his heavy heart lifting with it as he laid eyes on his Firestar. His oldest friend tipped up his chin, smiling as tears spilled down his cheek, and laid beside Graystripe. He leaned into Firestar, finally giving into the crushing weight in his chest and breaking into hard, heavy tears. He held Briarlight and Firestar close until he could open his eyes again. He was surrounded by a chorus of breathing, such simple sounds that he’d missed so much the silence in his den had felt crushing without them. Already his cheeks ached from smiling, and he wondered how he would manage the sound of their voices.
“Feathertail will be on her way,” Firestar meowed, his voice quivering. "And Ravenpaw." He wiped his eyes with a forepaw, and let out a breathy laugh. “They have a long way to come.”
“I can’t believe I’m seeing you again,” Graystripe whispered, running a paw along his friend’s collarbone. Firestar chuckled, new tears spilling out of his sparkling emerald eyes.
“Me neither,” Briarlight murmured, pulling away to look him in the eyes. “I’ve missed you,” Graystripe told her. He turned to Firestar. “Both of you. Everyone.”
“I should’ve been the one to show you around,” Graystripe said, twining his tail with Briarlight’s. “Introduce you to your half-sister, congratulate you on a long life well lived.”
Briarlight shook her head. “I won’t lie to you, and say I wouldn’t have it any other way. I was really angry, for a long time. I’m still bitter, honestly. But I’m happy here. Maybe I never got to grow old, but I have all the time in the world now. I can see you,” she said, cupping her father’s face in her paws, “Finally, as you were. You looked so tired in life.”
Graystripe sighed and smiled wistfully. He looked between two of his favorite cats, at a loss for words. They just hugged him tight. There would be time for long conversations, about regrets and joys and things they had missed. After all, they had the rest of eternity.
Graystripe had gotten used to the strange quiet of StarClan. No birdsong, no crickets or cicadas or chorus of toads. There was still the creak of old branches, and the whisper of a breeze through long grass. Graystripe wondered if the seasons would change, or if it would be newleaf forever.
The temperature was mild, and when the rains came, they didn’t overstay their welcome. It was nice, but he could see it getting old with enough moons. He got tired of the seasons even when they changed.
Feathertail and Ravenpaw were still traveling, and Graystripe’s whole body tingled with anticipation at the thought of seeing them. It had been so long. He had lived Feathertail’s entire lifespan several times over since the day he last saw her. It was a strange and unwelcome thought. He remembered something he had heard Sandstorm say once.
“A parent should never have to witness both the birth and burial of their kit. A whole lifetime shouldn’t fit neatly in another, it’s a tragedy any way you spin it.”
Well, plenty of lifetimes had fit into his. His heart ached as he thought of every life he’d seen come and go in his time. Not only his own daughters, but Leafpool, who had almost been like a daughter to him too. And so many others. It ashamed him to admit, but he couldn’t recall every single one of them.
He turned his attention to the fern he’d been toying with. He’d find a breeze and release it, then chase it down like it was a piece of prey. He’d missed hunting, ever since his joints got too bad to partake, and the surge of joy that came from this simple game was greater pleasure than he had felt in a very long time.
“Graystripe? ” The voice was young and snappy in a way that reminded Graystripe of apprentices like Blossomfall and Thriftear, holding an air of superiority even when their words had no indication of that at all. He cycled through who he knew that was dead, until his heart nearly stopped with recognition.
He crested the hill, and suddenly he was face to face with Silverstream. The echoes of his youth were a deafening roar in his ears. How many times had he dreamed of this moment?
And how much time has passed since then, to make it such an afterthought?
Silverstream pulled away to a respectful distance, averting her gaze. She cleared her throat a little. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Graystripe said, his neck prickling and his face flushing hot. They sat a little ways apart, stealing glances at each other.
Silverstream died in my arms , he realized. She never lived past that moment. And I… I’ve lived a whole lifetime since then. All his life, she had seemed so far from him. But now she was here, close enough to touch. As if she was thinking the same thing, she reached out a paw to brush his wrist. He took her paw in his- StarClan, he’d forgotten how small, how lithe her paws were compared to his broad ones- and met her eyes.
“Silverpelt, you’re old ,” Silverstream said, turning over his cracked paw pads. She burst out laughing, doubled over. Graystripe snorted and broke into a fit of giggles, and they fell into each other just like they used to. They still fit perfectly, and her fur was soft and warm under his touch.
“I thought you’d never show up!” She laughed, her voice strained and high with how hard she was laughing. “Literally everyone I ever knew is dead, except Mistyfoot. Nice of you to join us.” She poked him hard in the ribs, and he pulled her to the ground in a headlock. She squeezed out and flopped on top of him. She barely weighed anything, but he accepted defeat and splayed out his limbs under her.
“Sorry for not dying,” Graystripe teased. He’d missed this. Nobody had joked with him in years. Everything had been so dark for so long- the Clans under threat from Darktail’s reign, and then immediately after, Ashfur taking over ThunderClan and making it an absolutely miserable place to live. Silverstream was a burst of light, a brevity he hadn’t felt since before he was captured by the twolegs. His journey with Millie had changed him, and he was beginning to realize that he didn’t like the cat he had become.
“Well, you’re here now,” Silverstream said, adjusting herself so she could look him in the face. He was entirely in her shadow.
“I am,” he purred. “And now you’re never getting rid of me.”
“Like I’d try! I missed you so much, dude! There have been so many pretentious foxhearts here, and nobody to make fun of them with.” She poked him in the nose with her claw. “Do you have any idea how boring it’s been? You and Mistyfoot were like, my best friends, and both of you have been alive forever . I’ve had to spend eternity with my DAD.”
Graystripe laughed, full-out and loud. “Oh yeah? Wait until you hear about some of the total drags I’ve had to spend the time with!”
Silverstream laughed, but it was quieter, and she was looking at the ground behind Graystripe’s head. He pushed her off and rolled right-side-up, looking at her.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You just did,” she sniffed, sitting up and looking off into the horizon. He smiled wryly at her, and he could tell she saw because she pushed back a little grin of her own.
“Are you mad at me? About Millie?”
Silverstream’s Serious Sad Face broke into another fit of giggles.
“No way,” she said. “That would make me the worst hypocrite ever. I’ve dated so many cats since I died. Literally every cat who ever died young is here, that’s a way bigger pool than the two RiverClan cats who weren’t my cousins. It's just.. really weird. Seeing you, and you being able to see me, and it's nothing like I used to imagine. And I'm not sad about it."
“So.. we’re cool?” Graystripe sat up, looking over the fields with her.
“Yeah, absolutely. Nothing between us anymore. We didn’t have the kind of relationship to justify me waiting for you all these years. For a while I thought I would, but then I got over it and I got bored.”
The words sounded a little harsh, but Graystripe felt the exact same way.
“I’m glad,” he said. “I was worried about that. For a while, Millie was really obsessed with the idea of me having to choose.”
Silverstream looked at him, the setting sun casting a beautiful red glow on her translucent white fur. It was strange- in StarClan, cats were solid and pretty normal most of the time, but at dusk and dawn they faded almost completely.
“Not that Millie is.. Around anymore, right? I mean, I saw her when StarClan reconnected with the earth. She didn’t even glance at the lost souls.”
It stung to hear the confirmation, but Graystripe already figured as much.
“Yeah,” he confessed, “We never officially split, we just kind of. Fell apart. If we died at the same time, we would’ve had to talk about it, but it looks like fate did the work for us.” He hated how weak his voice got when he said it. “She got really nasty when our daughter, Briarlight, got badly injured. She treated everyone else terribly, and made Briarlight feel awful about her injury.”
“Wow. How entitled do you have to be, to make your daughter’s injury about yourself?” After saying it, Silverstream glanced at Graystripe with wide, worried eyes. “Is it okay to say that?”
“No, you’re right,” Graystripe said, cracking a grim smile. “Guess I didn’t have to choose at all. Crisis averted, I’ll just have neither!”
“Wow. You had two mates, didn’t break up with either of them, and you still manage to be single,” Silverstream teased, leaning her head onto his shoulder. He instantly folded into her touch, resting his head against hers. He watched her pelt slowly fade into the dark grass beneath them.
“Yeah. Poor me, right?”
“Poor you. Imagine giving me up.”
Graystripe leaned into her harder, swatting her back with his tail in mock indignance. “Imagine giving me up! I’m a real catch!”
“The first time I saw you, you were sopping wet and coughing your lungs up. I wouldn’t call that attractive.”
“Well, you still went out with me, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Silverstream said softly, curling her tail around his. He could barely see her paws as the sun dipped below the horizon, but he could feel one slipping into his. “I totally did.”
BONUS SCENE!
“You have a visitor.”
Graystripe had adjusted to Firestar's presence once again, but every reminder still made his heart jump. He pulled himself out of the star-spattered pond and shook his fur dry as Firestar doubled back to push apart a curtain of ivy hanging from a thick bough.
“Hey, man.” The voice was totally unfamiliar, but Graystripe couldn’t mistake the jet-black fur and angular frame of Ravenpaw. He ran to him, pulling back when he realized his fur was sopping wet, but Ravenpaw embraced him without hesitation. Graystripe reveled in the foreign scents on his old friend’s close-cropped pelt, marveling at how tall and strong the scared, scrawny apprentice had grown. Maybe he had always been this height, Graystripe reflected, and he’d just been making himself as invisible as possible.
“How have you been? I didn’t know- I’m sorry to see you’ve passed,” Graystripe said, fumbling his words. Ravenpaw chuckled, seeming endeared.
“I don’t know how long it’s been. A few years, no doubt. I hear you have kits, a family- I want to hear all about it.”
“Oh, there’s a lot to go over, my friend.”
“I know- you’re old , man!” Ravenpaw meowed with a laugh, nudging Graystripe in the ribs.
“Like I can forget it! I always thought Dappletail and Halftail were just complaining because they were grouches, but you wouldn’t believe how much a cat’s joints can hurt after a full day of doing nothing.”
They laughed, and Graystripe slid back into the water. “But seriously,” Graystripe said, “I’ve spent the past eternity focused on myself. Tell me about what you’ve been up to- you can’t still have an apprentice’s name, right?”
Ravenpaw let out a long breath, looking up at the cloudless sky. “Oh, boy. It sure has been a while, huh?
“You’re correct about that. I went by Ravenpaw for a long time, but after a while, it just wasn’t who I was anymore. My time with ThunderClan feels like an entirely different lifetime. I’m not a Clan cat, much less a student. I thought about just dropping the suffix and calling myself Raven, but I didn’t know how much connection I wanted to a mother who let the Clan treat me how it did. It’s a funny story, really- I was renamed by a kitten. Barley’s sister’s daughter. She called me Splinter. And it just stuck. I mean- I died just a couple moons later, maybe that’s why it stuck- but Barley was lovely about it. I died Splinter, and I’m okay with staying Splinter.”
“Okay. Splinter then,” Graystripe said, smiling at his friend. “Is it taboo to ask how a dead cat died?”
Splinter shook his head. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t reside in StarClan- I spend most of my days alone, except for the occasional passing ghost. It’s a lot like how I lived. Just without Barley. I don’t know how I died, really. Some sickness I barely knew was there until it was killing me.”
Splinter shrugged, like his own death didn’t bother him. Maybe there would come a day when it didn’t. All of his experience meant nothing now, in this world so foreign and strange.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was painless, and Barley will be with me soon enough. Then everything will be as it always was.”
Graystripe knew Barley was older than he was, so he couldn’t imagine the guy sticking around much longer.
Silence stretched between them. Out of the corner of his eye, Graystripe saw Splinter open his mouth as if to speak, then close it. Awkwardness burned hot at the back of his neck. He grasped at remember whens, but they were all just painful. He had few happy memories with Splinter.
After a little while, the quiet’s harsh edges softened, and the awkwardness burned off like a fever. But it was silence nonetheless, and when Splinter had had enough, he drew himself to the edge of the pool.
“I’d better get going,” he said. “It’s a long way home. It was so good to see you, Graystripe. I am very sorry for the circumstances.”
“Likewise,” Graystripe said, climbing onto the shore. “It’s been wonderful. I’m glad you’re well, and I hope to see you again soon.”
The two touched noses, a feeling that was stony and formal. Splinter turned to leave, glancing back at Graystripe and offering a friendly smile. Graystripe waved and watched him go, content with the closure he’d been given.