Chapter Text
Needletail led her patrol across the snowpack, taking respite in a well-worn deer trail. Black scales of bark and frost-bearded moss encroached on either side of the path. The deeper they ventured into the forest, the more the ancient trunks seemed to sap what little warmth remained in the air.
Tawnypelt and Juniperclaw fanned out beside her once they arrived on more solid ground. The powder had crystallized enough that their paws didn't plunge through the snow with each step, but their fur still brushed up white crystals as they went. As soon as they were back home, they would huddle in their dens and complain about the bone-biting chill of winter hunting.
Until then, they would need absolute silence.
Needletail hunched down over the exit of a prey-tunnel. Her ears flicked at the sound of scrabbling paws beneath that skittered off with the approach of the cats. With the prey gone, she dug a quick scrape and then huddled into it. The shallow shelter would keep her out of the wind, and insulate some of her heat until their quarry returned.
She squinted, her one good eye narrowed. The shadows passed overhead as time passed. Juniperclaw and Tawnypelt watched from the pine branches.
The scratching returned.
Needletail held her breath, not daring to square her haunches even when the first tuft of chestnut fur peeked out of the tunnel. A dappled nose sniffed the air and the vole decided it was safe to emerge.
The one-eyed queen launched herself forward, spraying snow behind her, snapping her paws down on the vole before it could retreat back into the safety of its tunnels. She delivered the killing bite, savoring the drops of blood that warmed her tongue.
The rest of the patrol descended as she dipped her head and murmured her prayer to StarClan.
"It can be done." Tawnypelt crawled out of the pine, flagging her tail for Juniperclaw to follow. "ShadowClan does not need to scavenge like common rogues."
Juniperclaw conceded the catch with a roll of his shoulder, flinching as his pads touched the snow again. "At this rate, we won't have the clan fed until Newleaf."
Needletail dragged the vole over to the nearest tree, picking a spot to cache her kill. "We'll have to stay out of each other's scent range. It doesn't take much to send prey back to nest."
"ThunderClan could only hope to hunt in these conditions." Juniperclaw flagged his tail and strode past. "I'll head downhill."
"I'll take the ridge," said Tawnypelt. "I heard doves roosting when we passed through."
"Meet me back at the border at sun high," said Needletail. "We take back whatever we can find."
With two flashes of fur on either side, Needletail was alone again. ThunderClan had better have good news next gathering, or Alderstar will fret his tail clean off. Not like he doesn't have his own clan to worry about…
Their warriors, their queens, and their kits. ShadowClan had been blessed with several litters, spurred by their victory over the Kin and the bonds that strengthened as a result. More kits meant more mouths to feed, and there was less prey around the lake than ever. Her patrols would not – could not fail, or else.
I won't let my son starve.
Her thoughts turned to Sprucekit, sitting safely in the nursery back in ShadowClan, and all of her complaints vanished. She plunged deeper into the forest, straining her ears until the silence started to sting.
* * *
The queen's luck bought her another vole, and her stubbornness brought her a red-bellied woodpecker. After that, though, she could find neither sight nor sound of prey. She pressed forward until her limbs started to ache from traversing the snow.
As the day drew on, she pushed away from the trees and into a round clearing. Shaking the snow off of her paws one at a time, she crawled up onto the root of an elder spruce and basked in the daylight. The warmth, however slight, tempted her to close her eye and drift away.
Before the shadows changed, she heard a muffled scream from somewhere in the clearing.
What was that?
Again the creature cried, its voice small but piercing. In the silence, it echoed all the way to the treetops. A brown-feathered bird fled its roost for shelter in the deeper woods. The lost prey did not trouble her as much as the frantic wailing that soon filled the grove.
It can't be.
She was familiar with this sound from weeks in the nursery. She was not proud of how much it still grated at her ears, and how she could not wait until Sprucekit shared their common tongue.
Why would there be a kit out here?
Her mind flashed to stories of the forests of the wilds. Ghosts of abandoned cats, wood sprites, and other tricksters, all beyond the protective reach of StarClan. She took a deep breath, and winced at the cold she pulled into herself before padding towards the source of the sound.
Don't be ridiculous. You're ShadowClan deputy.
As she crested towards another tree, the cries grew silent. She picked up the faint scent of a kit and crawled over the edge of a hastily made burrow in the snow.
Needletail's eyes went white with shock and her hackles raised.
There, at the bottom of the tree, lay a kit no more than three weeks old, her pelt white save for the black markings along her face, ears, and tail.
"That's impossible," she murmured.
Darktail had never taken a mate, and never showed interest in queens. Yet here, in the middle of the wild, the abandoned kit was a perfect reflection of the tom that had nearly destroyed the clans.
The kit remained silent, her big blue eyes unmoving from Needletail as she stooped into the burrow.
"Hey!" Needletail craned her neck and shouted to the forest. "Is anyone there? You lose someone?!"
The only answer was from the nameless kit, who burbled in imitation of her desperate cries. She had not scented another cat in the forest, nor seen any trace of anyone except for her patrol. There were no footprints in the snow, either. If the kit truly was abandoned, who had left her there, and why?
"What do I do?" Needletail stared at the kit.
The kit tilted her head and chattered.
No cats are living here, and no one has been here for a while. Can she really be Darktail's…?
Anger and fear wrestled inside Needletail. She had thought those emotions to be long gone, buried with the leader of the Kin, but seeing this cat now dragged them out from her. She tried to seize them by the scruff and pin them down.
If she left the kit, she would most certainly die.
Still shaking, Needletail leaned down to take a hesitant sniff.
The kit snapped up with both paws and Needletail flinched. The poor thing's pads were nearly frozen and clung to either side of her muzzle so tight. The queen could feel the kit's body shivering from the cold. Their noses almost touched as the two cats studied one another.
For Needletail, there was no choice. She knew what she would do the moment she stepped into the burrow.
"I won't abandon you," Needletail promised. She shook the kit's grip from her muzzle and slipped into the burrow, curling around her and sharing her warmth. There would be so much to figure out, but before that, she had to make sure the kitten was out of danger.
An adopted kit could escape the mark of a rogue, but she would be forever branded by the patches of black around her fur. Cats would hate her, but Needletail could teach her to live with that.
Can Alderstar?
Yes, of course. Of course, he'll accept you. And Violetshine… and anyone else you need.
The sound of paws crunching through snow snapped Needletail out of her thoughts. Her fur bristled and she bared her teeth in a snarl until she saw Tawnypelt and Juniperclaw standing at the edge of the burrow.
"We heard you calling," said Juniperclaw. "I would have had a nice fat mouse if it weren't for the racket! What's…"
The warrior's voice trailed off. Tawnypelt touched her tail to his flank, and both stared at the kit clinging to Needletail's belly.
"That's not…?" Juniperclaw's words trailed off, unwilling to speak Darktail's name.
"I don't know," said Needletail, "but she won't last long out here."
Tawnypelt's fur settled and she nodded. "Go. We'll pick up the caches and follow shortly."
Needletail nodded. She bent down, gingerly biting down on the kit's scruff. She curled her paws, protesting and wiggling for a few moments before catching sight of the other warriors. Then she swayed, giggling and trying to bat at their whiskers as Needletail padded into the clearing.
* * *
The journey home passed much quicker than their steady, creeping hunt. The scent border came and went. She focused on putting one paw in front of the other, ignoring the aches, the cold, and a hundred thoughts lurking to slow her movement.
Stonewing sat sentry outside of the bramble wall. He raised his tail in salute, and then his jaw dropped when he saw the kit.
Needletail shot him a one-eyed glare that suggested that he keep his silence, and he obeyed.
Silence was the rule in ShadowClan when it came to the business of the leader and the deputy. Scorchfur was not shy to make his feelings known, a privilege they tolerated for his guidance, but he was nowhere to be found.
She had lived long enough to know that silence was the shadow that concealed whispers. It would not be long before prying eyes turned into worries and rumors, and hushed accusations. This was a thing she could ignore for herself, but the thought of her kits being subjected to it made her blood boil.
Enough. That's not important now.
Her heart lightened as she neared the snow-crusted weave of brambles that made up the nursery. Already she could hear the din of chattering kits and conversing queens inside, and feel the thrum of the warmest dens the clans had to offer. Already she could see the pelt of her mate and the leader of ShadowClan taking up much of the entrance.
Snowbird and Berryheart had complained up a storm when Alderstar crowded into the nursery, but only until frost had fixed its teeth deep into their camp. His winter pelt settled into dark patches of red, filling the space around their nests with warmth giving fluff.
When Needletail returned, his head was already raised and mouth open to take in her scent. He unfurled from where he lay, paws lifting to reveal the bundle of pale ginger fur hidden beneath them. Sprucekit fussed at first, chewing at the red fur on Alderstar's belly before he looked up at Needletail with sudden realization.
The kit rocketed from the nest and crashed into her forelegs, not even noticing at first the frail creature that dangled from her jaws.
Alderstar, however, had. The instant he saw the kit dangling from her mouth, he could tell her progeny as clearly as anyone else.
Snowbird stirred and narrowed her eyes. Behind her, Berryheart gave her tail a single lash. They looked at one another, nodded, and then met Needletail's gaze. There was no debate between the queens. A mutual agreement was made in silence – no matter the cause, none of them would turn out an abandoned kit to perish in the wild.
"Let her down," said Alderstar, his voice as soft as a feather brushing against the snow. "It'll do her good to get out of the cold."
As if on cue, the nameless kit sneezed. Needletail placed her on the ground before she squirmed and swayed too much. Her son's affection shifted, in turn for caution and curiosity. He stuck his head out from behind Needletail's paws and sniffed at the other kit. The two of them circled, uncertain and unwilling to approach but just as unwilling to run away from each other.
"That's your brother now," said Needletail. A strange tremble rippled down from her nose to her tail as she herded the kits back to the nest. "And this is your father, Alderstar."
The white-and-black kit looked back at her with wide eyes. For just a moment, Needletail forgot any possible connection between the child and their former tormentor.
StarClan, be kind to this one. Please.
Needletail followed her newest family member into their nest, encircling them with her mate. Alderstar put paw and tail over her as if to shelter her from her most troublesome thoughts. She nipped at Alderstar's throat, and then rested her head against his forelegs. The kits squirmed, pressing into her belly.
"Have you picked a name?" whispered Alderstar.
Needletail had thought on it. Nothing to do with light or shadow. No trace of her parentage, whether it was true or not. Someday she would learn the truth of her image – she would need it to protect herself – but she did not need to bear the weight of Darktail's deeds in her name.
No, she would be named by the night that they met her. A reminder to ShadowClan that she could bear the coldest Leafbare and thrive.
"Yes," said Needletail. "She will be Rimekit."
The pair pressed closer, safe and content. Alderstar purred a deep, husky roll that he made when he approved of her decisions.
"Rimekit," he echoed. "Welcome to the family, little one."