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Chapter Text

Swiftbreeze was overjoyed when Willowpelt was revealed to be expecting kits. However, she knew that Willowpelt was less enthusiastic then she was. The father, Tawnyspots, had wanted kits of his own, and he was growing short of time. Willowpelt, being generous and sympathetic, said she would carry his kits for him.

 Willowpelt was not keen on raising the kits. She had only just been made a warrior, after all. She wanted to enjoy her life as a young warrior before settling down to have kits.

 She thought she would give her kits to another queen to nurse and care for so she could continue on with her young life.

 Swiftbreeze tried to convince her daughter that she would love her kits, and she wouldn’t want anything else but to stay with them.

 Willowpelt remained unconvinced.

 Tawnyspots’ illness took a turn for the worse a moon after Willowpelt became pregnant. He spent the days groaning in agony, barely eating; the pain in his belly was too harsh. Featherwhisker and Spottedleaf tried everything to ease his pain, but only StarClan could help him then. He died after five days, never to see his kits, the one thing he wished for more than anything.

 The Clan mourned his passing deeply, he had served as their deputy for countless moons. The grieving queen Bluefur was chosen as Sunstar’s new deputy, and the Clan spent a long, silent vigil. Thrushpelt, Dappletail, and Rosetail huddled together with their father, licking away the tears shed for their lost brother.

Willowpelt grew angry, carrying the kits she didn’t even want for someone who wouldn’t even see them. The rest of the Clan, however, took comfort in the idea of Willowpelt carrying the dead warrior’s kittens. When Willowpelt moved to the nursery, she was the single most well cared for in the Clan. She had the first pick of prey, the most water, and the softest nest. Yet she couldn’t grow to like the idea of having kits. Swiftbreeze could often hear her cursing to the unborn kits.

 Swiftbreeze pretended to ignore her daughter’s angry outbursts. She knew that while the kits may not have a loving mother, they’d always have a place in ThunderClan.

 Another moon passed. And on a cool night, Willowpelt went into labor.

 “They’ll be here soon,” Spottedleaf, ThunderClan’s medicine cat and Willowpelt’s littermate, crooned softly.

 Willowpelt hissed with pain and anger. “Those brats!”

 Swiftbreeze licked her daughter’s ears. “Wait till you see your kits. They’ll be lovely!”

 Willowpelt’s only reply was a shriek of pain. 

 Spottedleaf licked her sister’s flank reassuringly. “The first one’s coming.”

 Swiftbreeze’s heart leapt in her throat.

 Willowpelt gritted her teeth. The stick Leopardfoot had given her snapped between her jaws. “I hate this!” The pale queen hissed.

 “It’s here!” Spottedleaf exclaimed in excitement. “Well done!”

 Swiftbreeze gave a small bounce of excitement. I’m acting like kit! She smiled widely at Willowpelt, but her daughter gave nothing in return.

 Spottedleaf got to her paws. In her jaws, a tiny wet black tabby kit squealed. “Congratulations, Willowpelt. You have a healthy son.”

 Swiftbreeze leapt to her paws and sniffed the yowling kit. “A son! Willowpelt, look at him! He’s beautiful!” Swiftbreeze set the kit by Willowpelt’s belly.

 Willowpelt sniffed the kit, and her lip curled. “It stinks.”

 Swiftbreeze felt her hackles begin to rise. “He’s still covered in the fluids, of course he’s stinky. You stank like that when you were born.” Why’s she calling him an ‘it?’ She sighed, and turned to Spottedleaf. “I assume there aren’t more coming?”

 The dark tortoiseshell shook her head. “No. Just him. Just a healthy, strong tomkit.”

 Willowpelt stared at the nursery wall. Her breathing had gone back to normal, and her belly began to flatten. Swiftbreeze nudged her shoulder. “He needs a name.”

 The queen’s blue eyes blazed. “You name it. You’d be a better mother to it, anyway.”

 Is that sadness in her gaze?

 Spottedleaf sighed. “Darkkit.”

 Willowpelt nodded. “Sure. Darkkit.” She rolled over reluctantly, allowing Darkkit to feed. “Don’t think this means I’ll enjoy it, because I won’t.”

 “You will sometime, Willow,” Swiftbreeze murmured, licking Darkkit. The kit mewed in protest briefly, being dislodged from his feeding place. “Isn’t he adorable?”

 Willowpelt remained silent, studying the tiny wet mewling and squirming bundle. Swiftbreeze held her breath, wondering if her daughter was accepting the kit.

 “No,” Willowpelt replied. “No.”

Chapter Text

Darkkit was only one moon old, but he felt he knew a lot of things. He knew he was a ThunderClan kit. He knew all his Clanmates by name. He knew many stories of the past cats.

But he mostly knew about his mother. Willowpelt, the pale blue-grey queen who had birthed him. Her eyes held a cold glare for her kit, each look sent icicles pricking into the small, starved tomkit.

The rest of the Clan would watch with worry, concern, and would whisper to each other. Hushed voices that Darkkit never understood.

Because to him, Willowpelt’s behavior was normal of queens to their kits. He thought all queens would leave the care of the kits to a family member, and hold them at a far distance shielded by bitter hostility.

It was Swiftbreeze, Willowpelt’s kind mother, who raised Darkkit, along with Redtail, Willowpelt’s brother. They were the ones who kept Darkkit warm and safe.

Swiftbreeze had Darkkit wrapped in her front paws, held tightly against her chest, her tongue running up and down his thin and fluffy fur. “You are a filthy little kit,” she cooed.

Darkkit scowled. “I am not filthy!”

Redtail, who had his brindled paw resting on the wriggling, stubborn kit, washed behind Darkkit’s ears. “For someone who still can’t walk so well, you get about as dirty as any warrior trampling through a mudbank!”

Darkkit sighed, deciding to keep quiet about his earlier adventure, where he had played in the mud left from the previous night’s rainfall.

“I’m hungry,” he sighed instead. He didn’t usually complain about hunger pains, but this sunhigh it was growing unbearable, and Willowpelt had not come for what felt like ages.

Swiftbreeze responded sympathetically, “I’m sorry, little one. I will go find your mother as soon as I’m done washing you.”

Although her voice remained steady and cheerful, her eyes betrayed terror and fury. Darkkit didn’t understand why, and didn’t mention it.

“No need,” Redtail mewed. “I can smell her coming in.”

Willowpelt entered, much to the relief of all three cats in the nursery. But the more cheery feel dissipated and was left with discomfort and edge. The tension between Redtail and Willowpelt was so thick the air itself was buzzing.

“Hurry up and feed. I have a patrol soon,” Willowpelt growled shortly, and Redtail bristled. Darkkit shivered to see the usually soft and gentle cat act like this.

Swiftbreeze rose from the nest she shared with Darkkit, but didn’t leave the nursery; she never left Darrkit alone with Willowpelt.

The paler she-cat eased herself down into the nest, reluctantly rolling over and suppressing a growl when Darkkit greedily latched onto her belly, swallowing as much milk as he could in such a short time, so he wouldn't go so hungry again.

"That kit is starving ," hissed Redtail with a voice slithering like a snake. Willowpelt said nothing, pretending she didn't hear what her littermate had said.

Swiftbreeze stayed close to Darkkit and finished grooming his fur while he fed. Willowpelt's fluffy tail twitched; even it was impatient for Darkkit to fill his belly. When the dark tabby kit was finished, Willowpelt shot up and skirted out of the nursery so quickly, only a cloud of dust and a scuffing on the ground proved that she was there only seconds ago. Redtail relaxed and fluffed up the mossy nest, while Swiftbreeze made sure the kit was alright, afraid he was hurt in Willowpelt's rush to leave the nursery.

"There you go, Mother and Darkkit," Redtail spoke after lasting silence. "A soft nest for a nap."

Darkkit happily clambered into the nest, feeling the soft green moss under his tender kit paws. Swiftbreeze followed in, and a white and brown tabby wall encircled the little kit. "Coming in, Redtail?" Squeaked the tiny voice from Swiftbreeze's soft pelt.

Redtail's answer came in a shaking croak, "I have to go have a talk with Runningwind, I've put it off for a little longer than I intended to."

Darkkit huffed. "You spend all of your time with Runningwind now."

That got a short laugh from Redtail. "Because Runningwind is my mate, silly." Then a gulp of unease.

Darkkit was confused and concerned, Why is Redtail so scared? Swiftbreeze caught the note of unease in her son's voice and mewed gently, "Red, is everything okay?"

Redtail sighed, long and hard. "I… I'll tell you when I get back." And he left in a defeated, surrendering crawl, keeping low to the ground.

Darkkit looked up into his grandmother’s green eyes. “WindClan?” He questioned.

Swiftbreeze shook her head. “That is over, as far as I know.” Just a few days ago, ThunderClan had planned an attack on WindClan, even though Redtail had promised one of their warriors that nothing of that sort would happen. “I have no idea what it could be.”

Darkkit huffed, frustrated over the secrets.

“Anyway,” Swiftbreeze chirped happily, “it’s naptime for you.” Her pink tongue swiped over his nose affectionately, and Darkkit’s mouth split open in a wide yawn. Sleepy and full from his meal, the dark bundle pressed into his grandmother’s warmth and let her purrs lull him to a deep, peaceful slumber.

Darkkit was slowly woken from sleep by his two caretakers whispering softly, but that hid none of their emotions.

“I understand what we did was dumb. I know that was incredibly stupid and that we didn’t see the consequence. I know! I know that!”

“Fine, fine. I shouldn’t be lecturing you on this, as you are old enough for this responsibility.”

“I’m terrified, Mother. I am just so scared. I have no idea what to do, all I’m asking for is your help.”

Swiftbreeze sighed, took a deep breath, and spoke. “Alright. But you have to stick around as well. You can’t just take off like Willowpelt did. As much as I love raising Darkkit, I am not his mother, and I can’t be their mother. I can’t be expected to raise all my grandkits.”

Darkkit let out a muffled gasp hearing his mother’s name.

Redtail replied in a voice near broken, “I’m not going to leave them. I’m not like Willowpelt, think of it like Leopardfoot and her kits, remember? We weren’t even born yet, and you helped.”

Why are they bringing Willowpelt into this? What did she do?

Swiftbreeze’s breathing was short, exhausted. “The difference between Leopardfoot and Willowpelt is Leopardfoot cared. She needed the help, mate up and leaving her, kitted too early, left near dead, two kits lost even! Willowpelt, I understand she wanted to wait, but taking it out on him is cruel.”

Redtail gulped and continued with a strained voice, “I don’t want to be like Willowpelt. As much as I don’t want this, I promise I’m not going to be her.”

Both kept silent, and Darkkit’s curiosity peaked. Does Redtail have kits?

“Oh no, we woke him up!” Swiftbreeze mewed to Redtail after seeing Darkkit’s eyes open wide and looking around in confusion. “I’m so sorry, little baby.”

Darkkit pretended to be still sleepy. “What’s going on?”

Redtail took several deep breaths. “Nothing you need to worry about, Dark. I’m sorry we woke you.”

Stop lying to me, Redtail. “Something is wrong. I know it.”

Swiftbreeze hushed the kit. “You’re right, but as of now, it is nothing you should worry about.” Darkkit pouted and Swiftbreeze sighed in exasperation. “It’s not nice to pry in like this.”

“Why can’t I know now?” Darkkit whined, petulantly.

Redtail started to look ill with fear. “Because I am not ready to come to the fact that this has happened to me yet, I need some time to process this myself!” Redtail nearly shouted. Darkkit, although disappointed that his family was keeping secrets from him, said no more. Redtail left quickly after that, the scent of uneasiness still lay heavy in the thick nursery air.

“Swiftbreeze?” Darkkit began to his grandmother, who shot him the no more questions glance. “What did you mean about Willowpelt?”

Grief flooded into Swiftbreeze’s eyes. “The thing is, little one, that she is supposed to be to you what we are to you.”

Darkkit didn’t understand. “What does that mean?”

“She is supposed to love you! She is supposed to think of you as the most precious thing to walk the earth!” Swiftbreeze hissed, furious over her daughter. “Do you not understand that?”

Darkkit shook his head. “I thought that was normal,” he confessed.

Swiftbreeze leveled her voice to refrain from yelling at the kit. “Why? You’ve seen every other parent in the Clan show affection to their kits, did you ever notice the difference between you and Willowpelt?”

Darkkit thought hard. Swiftbreeze does very obviously care for her kits. Leopardfoot is very affectionate with Tigerclaw. And Bluestar speaks fondly about the kits she had with Thrushpelt, and is devastated over their deaths. "I did, but I never really thought about it."

Swiftbreeze squeezed her grandson tightly. "Well, now you know. As unfortunate as it is, it's just the truth. No use hiding it from you."

Darkkit felt a strange emotion he couldn't quite describe stirring in his chest. It pounded like a headache, and shook like a leaf. "Am I unwanted?" He blurted to his grandmother.

Swiftbreeze’s gentle eyes flew wide open. “Oh no, no no no! Don’t you ever think like that, little one!” Quieter she mewed, “You’re all I could ever want.”

As she snuggled the kit even closer, purring loudly with calm reassurance, Darkkit felt at ease with it all. Nothing will change. It's always going to be like this. And I'm fine with it.

Chapter Text

The moon had split in half only once, and Darkkit had since made many new revelations. He thought that nothing would have changed, and physically, nothing had.

It had only been a half-moon since that night when Swiftbreeze had told him about Willowpelt. Mentally, however, Darkkit felt like he had aged nine moons. He didn’t know what to make of everything new in his life.

Everything is mostly normal, but why am I craving what Willowpelt could’ve given me? I don’t need what she doesn’t give, I have all I got. All I need.

What Darkkit didn’t want to admit was the knot of jealousy in his belly when he saw Redtail. Or, more specifically, saw the ever-growing bulge in Redtail’s belly.

No one in Redtail’s family expected him to have kits. Redtail had voiced discomfort in the idea for moons prior, since he said he never felt comfortable with living as a she-cat. “Kit raising isn’t solely the Queen’s role, but typically, only Queens have been able to birth and feed kits,” Swiftbreeze said to Darkkit. “That’s why he isn’t so comfortable with this idea.”

“Then why did-”

Swiftbreeze cut him off abruptly. “Young cats make silly decisions in the heat of the moment. Neither of them saw further than then and there.”

Envy for Redtail and Runningwind’s unborn kits clouded Darkkit’s every thought. They will get everything they need. Parental love from two parents, Swiftbreeze, they’ll never go hungry, even Willowpelt likes them already.

Swiftbreeze seemed to pick up on Darkkit’s jealousy. She would be extra affectionate to him, but Darkkit wasn’t compliant. “I’m hungry,” he would complain as Swiftbreeze nuzzled him.

“I know,” Swiftbreeze said. “I’m sorry.”

Darkkit’s belly growled. “Redtail’s kits will be spoiled rotten and you will all forget me.”

Swiftbreeze hesitated. She glanced around the nursery and twitched her whiskers. “I understand your concerns, but, darling, I promise you that no matter what I will never abandon you. Okay?”

This assured Darkkit a little bit, but he was still jealous of the new kits.

Swiftbreeze stood up and shook out her fur. “I’m going to find Willowpelt for you, I know that you’re hungry.” Hungry was an understatement. I’m starving. I haven’t eaten today at all, and it’s almost sun-down. Swiftbreeze gave her grandson a few soothing licks on the top of his fluffy head with her warm tongue. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye,” Darkkit responded and watched her leave into the golden-gray light outside. He was now alone, and the nursery was getting chilly. Redtail wasn’t in his nest; he insisted on continuing with his warrior duties throughout pregnancy. Swiftbreeze advised against it, but much like Willowpelt, Redtail was also stubborn. Darkkit clambered over his nest and crawled into Redtail’s. He wanted to get some snuggling in before the kits arrived next moon. Darkkit kneaded the mossy nest and created a little divot he could curl into, and faced the nursery entrance as Redtail’s dappled head poked through the opening with a vole gripped in his jaws. Darkkit’s ears perked up.

“Hi Darkkit,” Redtail mewed happily. He sounded much better than he had been in the past moon, which warmed Darkkit’s chest with relief. The tortoiseshell tom stepped into the nest, dropped the vole, but then started digging at the moss and leaves.

“What are you doing?” Darkkit asked, staring at Redtail’s paws ripping the moss up and shoving it into piles.

“I… I don’t know actually,” Redtail admitted, eyes squinted with concentration. “I just feel like I have to dig.”

Darkkit nodded, confused. He stood up and moved to a different spot as Redtail’s claws frantically ripped up his previous spot. Then, Redtail turned three circles and curled up next to Darkkit. Darkkit started to snuggle next to him, but he got up and began burrowing yet again. The kit watched with amazed confusion.

“Ah, forget it,” Redtail mumbled and plopped heavily down in the nest. His paws, however, still worked on the twine and weeds. “How has your evening been?”

Darkkit sighed, “I’m so hungry.” Redtail’s ears dropped, he was beginning to gnaw at his own meal. Darkkit was still too little to eat prey.

Redtail pulled the kit close. “Just another moon, and then you won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“Another moon and a half, actually,” Darkkit corrected.

“Nope!” Redtail smiled. “My kits will be born next moon, so I can feed you until you can eat prey like the others,” he assured. “And you’ll finally be safe.”

Darkkit looked upwards at the tortie. “Really?”

“Of course,” Redtail almost laughed. “It won’t be for much longer before we wean you, but I want to give you a reliable food source as soon as I can.” He licked the kits head. “You deserve the love that your parents should’ve given.”

It’s not much of Tawnyspots’ fault he died.

“Did Tawnyspots make Willowpelt have me?”

Redtail’s fur fluffed up. “StarClan, no! If he had, you best believe we’d not speak of him as well as we do. No, it was nothing romantic.” His ears dropped. “I’m not sure why she jumped in, Willowpelt wasn’t the only one capable of the job. Between you and me, I think she just wanted the superiority that cames with doing a good deed.”

“Oh.”

“But I want you. You’re perfect to me.”

“Oh, you’re looking better today!” Came a chirpy voice from the nursery entrance, interrupting Redtail’s statement. Runningwind squeezed through the hole. “Hi Darkkit!”

“Hi,” the kit mewed shyly. 

The brown tom curled up next to his mate, licking his ears. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright. Restless, though,” Redtail replied. “Came in to keep Darkkit company while my Mother looks for Willowpelt.”

Darkkit felt squished between the two cats. He squirmed free, wondering when Swiftbreze would find Willowpelt. It was well past sun-high, and he hadn’t even had his morning feed. He was beginning to notice how thin he was. His ribs were visible under his dark tabby pelt, and his shoulders were sharp and pronounced. Sometimes, because he was so malnourished, he would faint. 

His first time fainting was scary. He remembered feeling dizzy, and then he collapsed onto the nursery floor. Swiftbreeze was on him in an instant, licking him fiercely and rubbing cool, wet moss on his face.

He hadn’t fainted in a while, luckily. Swiftbreeze was being firmer with Willowpelt, and he had recently gained a decent amount of weight.

But not enough to be considered “normal.”

Darkkit stumbled outside. The sky was darker, the beginnings of a storm. The air had a slight chill and scented damp. Standing before him, the tall and regal shape of the newest Clan leader, Bluestar.

Sunstar had died just a few days before Darkkit’s birth. Darkkit only knew he was out collecting herbs with his brother Featherwhisker, and he sacrificed himself when a dog came from out of nowhere. The patrol didn’t make it in time to save their leader.

Bluestar turned her blue gaze on Darkkit. “How’s the little warrior?” She asked sweetly.

“Hungry,” Darkkit answered truthfully. His belly responded with a growl.

Bluestar growled. “Why have a kit if you’re just going to neglect it?” Her eyes blazed with anger. 

Darkkit shuffled his paws. “I’m fine, really.”

“No, you’re not,” the Clan leader insisted. “If only we had another nursing queen. I guess Redtail counts, but we have another moon for him.” She gazed curiously at the kit. “How old are you now? Are you old enough for fresh-kill?”

Darkkit shook his head. “I don’t have the teeth for chewing yet.”

Bluestar’s tail lashed. “I’m going to find Willowpelt. She can’t do this to you.”

She’ll get angry at me if I complain. It’s best to keep quiet.

He began to tell Bluestar, “Swiftbreeze is already looking,” but she was already walking out of the gorse tunnel that led to the outside of ThunderClan’s camp.

“Darkkit? Where are you?”

Runningwind.

Darkkit turned around, trying to ignore the throbbing hunger in his belly. For once, the mice and birds smelt tempting. He was so hungry. He hadn’t gone this long without a meal yet.

“Darkkit?” Runningwind voiced, concerned. “It might rain soon, come in so you don’t get wet!”

He stole one last longing glimpse of the fresh-kill pile before slipping back inside the dimly lit nursery. Runningwind’s green eyes shone in the darkness. “There you are!”

“Yeah,” Darkkit mewed as his belly growled again. He stepped up to the comforting scents of Redtail.

“He’s asleep,” Runningwind murmured. He gave his mate a lick on the ear. “He looks so peaceful. Not a fear in the world.”

I wish I could sleep like that, Darkkit thought enviously. Just sleep and wake up just fine. The dark tabby kit curled up to his foster father’s belly. It wasn’t growling, like Darkkit’s was. Instead, Darkkit felt a strange quiver. He sat up, and pressed his paw on Redtail’s hardley swollen belly again. The quivering continued, and he felt a slight ripple pass.

“Runningwind…?” Darkkit called out nervously. “Something’s wrong with Redtail!”

The brown tabby’s ears perked. “Wrong? What?”

Darkkit pointed with his claw to Redtail’s belly. “His belly is moving weirdly.”

Swiftbreeze stalked into the nursery, Willowpelt walking dejectedly behind her. “Come here, Darkkit. You can eat now.”

Darkkit’s mind wasn’t on food. “I think something’s wrong with Redtail.”

Runningwind’s head poked up. “Can you check on him, Swiftbreeze?” His green eyes were alive with fear.

Swiftbreeze pushed Darkkit away with her tail. “Go to the elder’s den for me, please. Willowpelt, go with him.”

Darkkit startled at the idea of being alone with his mother, even for a few moments. “But I wanna stay here!”

“That’s an order, Dark.” She padded swiftly to her sleeping kit, whose face had involuntarily begun to contort in pain.

Willowpelt began to slip out of the nursery. Darkkit followed behind, his tail between his legs.

A few cats were outside, enjoying the scent of the rain. Leopardfoot was sharing a vole with Tigerclaw and Whitestorm. Mousefur and Thistleclaw were bringing in a few mice and a blackbird. Their eyes turned curiously to the sight of the dark tabby kit and the pale grey warrior trotting side-by-side.

“Bluestar came to fetch me. Are you going around and complaining to the entire Clan?” His mother asked sharply. She kept her eyes averted, and her lips were twitching, as if she was resisting a snarl.

“No. Bluestar just knew.” Darkkit felt hot beneath his pelt, despite the inevitable chill. “I tried to tell her I was fine but she-“

“So this is her fault?” The grey queen interrupted. “Or are you just putting the blame on her?”

Darkkit’s jaw gaped open. He didn’t want to argue with Willowpelt. His life depended on her. .

Suddenly, a tall shadow was standing over Darkkit. “Hey, now. There’s no reason to blame him, he’s done nothing wrong.”

Thrushpelt. The ThunderClan deputy’s fur was bristling. Darkkit felt another wave of fear roll over him.

“I’m fine, I can take the blame! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb the leader!”

His mother didn’t listen. She kept her furious blue eyes on Thrushpelt. “It’s my kit, I can do what I want with it.”

Thrushpelt didn’t move. “Don’t call him that. Have you forgotten that this is Tawnyspots’ kit too? He’s the last thing I have left of my brother, I don’t want anything to happen to him.” He brown warrior’s mew drifted into raw grief. “You haven’t lost a littermate before. You haven’t lost your kits. You just don’t care.”

“Get Spottedleaf and Featherwhisker! Right now!” Came Swiftbreeze’s shrill cry. Runningwind burst from the nursery, his jaw trembling. He scrambled into the medicine den.

“Redtail,” Willowpelt murmured distractedly. She turned, walking back towards the nursery as Runningwind scrambled back in, Featherwhisker and Spottedleaf hard in his heels.

“Stay here. You need to feed your kit.” Thrushpelt turned away and took a shrew from the fresh-kill pile. “That’s an order from your deputy.”

Darkkit had long forgotten that he was hungry. His worry for Redtail was taking over any other emotion. But he knew to listen to Swiftbreeze. She had been around much longer than him; she knew everything.

Willowpelt stole one last glance at the nursery. A low, agonized groan sounded from it. “They aren’t due for another moon. Oh, StarClan, save him.”

Darkkit was astonished. For the first time, he heard his mother speak in a tone apart from anger and disinterest. Strangely, he wanted to press against her. He was afraid too. Redtail meant everything to him.

“Come one, little one,” came a sweet, low voice. Windflight, one of the elder’s and Darkkit’s grandfather, nudged his shoulder. “Featherwhisker and Spottedleaf know what to do, Redtail’s going to be alright.” The elder’s eyes shone. “Come inside.” He raised his voice. “You too, Willowpelt. This little scrap needs to eat.”

Once inside the elder’s den, Willowpelt allowed Darkkit to suckle. He was so hungry, he thought he could eat for a moon. Willowpelt for once didn’t grumble that he was taking too long. Her mind was preoccupied.

“Just took a peek. He’s in horrible pain, but he’s strong. I think he can handle it.” Poppydawn had been sent to the nursery to assess the situation. Her eyes shone with worry. “Leopardfoot’s with him, she knows part of what he’s feeling.”

Stonepelt shifted. “I’m glad I’m not a she-cat.” He gulped after Willowpelt shot him an icy glare. “Or born one, that is.”

Me too! Darkkit agreed silently. From the constant sound of shrieking coming from the nursery, he knew kitting was a torcher. He flattened his ears as another shrill scream pierced the chilling air.

“Entire Clan’s on edge,” commented Windflight, returning from the dirtplace. “I can’t even walk a fox length without bumping into a pacing cat. The last time the Clan was like this was during Leopardfoot’s kitting.”

The elders nodded. Darkkit looked at his mother. She had no light of recognition in her eyes and Darkkit remembered that Leopardfoot’s kit, Tigerclaw, was older than his mother.

Willowpelt had begun to twitch and shift uncomfortably. Darkkit caught the message and stopped suckling. He was full, anyway. For a short moment, he wondered why Willowpelt didn’t just leave. Then he caught Windflight’s pale green eyes and realized his mother wouldn’t deliberately make him miserable in front of the elders. 

Willowpelt got to her paws and swiftly crawled out of the elder’s den. Darkkit was left on the cold earth, licking his jaws. Poppydawn thumped her bushy tail. “Come here, it’s cold on the ground.”

Darkkit hesitated. Around the cats he wasn’t quite familiar with, he felt awkward and small. But Redtail screamed again, and he found himself pressed to the old she-cat’s belly, shaking.

“I know, it’s scary for all of us, but I’m sure he’ll pull through,” the red tabby murmured. She rolled Darkkit onto his back. “You have a very full belly! You must’ve been hungry!”

The dark tabby glanced at his belly, which was now round and plump. “I was very hungry!” He chirped. “I’m all full now!”

Windflight gave the kit a lick on the cheek. “You should come here more often, we love having you.”

Stonepelt grunted. “You’re much better than the young warriors told to care for us. You don’t complain about doing an apprentice task.”

The Clan had no apprentices, and Mousefur and Runningwind were the newest warriors. While the Clan was waiting for Darkkit’s apprenticeship, the young warriors took on the task of caring for the Clan’s elders.

“I’m just glad there’ll be new kits in the Clan soon. Darkkit’s the only one,” Poppydawn commented, between swipes of her rough tongue. She turned to her mate. “Remember when our three were like this?”

Darkkit’s ear pricked. Were they talking about his father?

Windflight nodded. “Sweetkit and Rosekit got under everyone’s paws, and Thistlekit wouldn’t leave Bluepaw alone.”

Oh, my father’s mother is long dead. Poppydawn isn’t his mother.

“They’re so grown up now. Rosetail is an excellent and skillful hunter, Thistleclaw’s a father, even!”

Darkkit opened his mouth to speak. “You said Sweetkit. Who’s Sweetkit?”

Poppydawn’s eyes clouded with sadness for a moment. “Sweetpaw died a few nights after Tigerclaw was kitted. She ate a bad mouse, and she got so sick, she couldn’t fight off the illness.”

That’s so sad. What if my kits die like that?

If I end up having kits, that is.

“All we know is that she hunts with StarClan now, waiting patiently for us to come home to her.”

If I die, will Tawnyspots be there? Will Willowpelt feel sad? Or will she be happy she doesn’t have to see me anymore?

A deep, gruff voice suddenly sounded from outside the elder’s den. “Is Darkkit in there?”

The black kit saw the dark brown tabby, Leopardfoot’s son, standing at the entrance. “Bluestar asked me to talk to the little scrap for a while.”

Darkkit looked to Poppydawn and Windflight. The two cats nodded, and Poppydawn sent him off with a push of her muzzle. Tigerclaw stared at Darkkit, and Darkkit could see something brewing behind his intense amber eyes. The kit’s fur bristled involuntarily.

“Bluestar just wanted me to speak with you about what to expect with new kits.”

Darkkit didn’t think that Tigerclaw’s advice would apply to him. Your mother cared for you. You still had one cat who gave you the love and attention you needed.

“I was the only kit in the nursery for a while, and I was used to being spoiled. My mother treated me like the single most important thing in the world, after the death of my littermates. The other queens did the same.”

Your mother loves you, and mine doesn’t. You know nothing about what I go through.

“When Whitestorm was born, I felt jealous, yes. He got much more attention, but I still had my mother and Swiftbreeze.”

“Easy for you to say,” Darkkit grumbled.

Tigerclaw didn’t seem to pay too much attention to his comment. “Swiftbreeze is there. She’ll look after you.”

“Not if Redtail needs help,” the dark kit shot back. “Why did Bluestar think you could help me? You know nothing about what I go through!”

The dark brown tabby stared down and the black tabby kit, intense amber eyes meeting soft honey eyes. “I didn’t ask for Bluestar to tell me to talk to you.”

“And I don’t care what you have to say to me, actually,” Darkkit retorted before immediately feeling nervous. Tigerclaw wasn’t a forgiving cat.

Tigerclaw stopped abruptly, and looked down at the kit with anger. They stood before the entrance to the nursery, and Swiftbreeze squeezed out. Her pretty brown tabby pelt was matted, and blood was on her paws. Her eyes were wild and dark with worry. Her scared amber eyes stared at her two grandkids standing side-by-side. “What are you doing out of the elder’s den, Dark?”

Darkkit shifted his paws. “Tigerclaw wanted to tell me about having new kits in the nursery,” he muttered. “But he doesn’t really know anything.”

The dark brown tom hissed softly.

Swiftbreeze sighed, “Leave off, Tigerclaw. We need a stick. A thick, hard, solid stick. But make sure it’s thin enough to fit in Redtail’s mouth Can you get that for us?”

Tigerclaw sighed long and heavy but obeyed, tail held high as he left the camp.

Swiftbreeze turned to Darkkit. “I was just coming to check on you.” She guided him with her tail, away from the nursery. “Have you eaten yet?”

Darkkit nodded. “Is Redtail okay?” His talk with Tigerclaw had brought up more anxieties about his foster father.

Swiftbreeze’s eyes clouded again. “The kits aren’t coming. Redtail’s in a lot of pain, and he’s growing exhausted.” Her amber eyes shone bright with worry for her son. “I hate seeing him like this! I want to help him through his battle, but I can’t!”

Darkkit pressed close to his grandmother, wanting to soothe her, and wanting her to soothe him. “How is Runningwind?” He asked, hoping he could distract her.

“We sent him on a walk with White-eye, in hopes can give him some reassurance.” The tabby warrior’s head dropped. “He’s so worried about his mate, and his kits, which is only stressing us out. But he’s got a good reason to worry. If this goes wrong, we could lose all of them.”

Darkkit didn’t want to think of a life without Redtail, or a future without Redtail’s kits.

Spottedleaf’s dark tortoiseshell head popped between the two. “Mother, I think we have a kit coming soon, can you come back in?” She quickly turned to Darkkit. “I have a special job for you. Do you think you can do it?”

“Yes!” Darkkit was determined to do anything to help Redtail.

As Swiftbreeze slipped inside the nursery again, Spottedleaf began to trace out shapes in the ground. “I need you to get some more herbs from our store, we’re going to need more. I need chervil, it smells sweet and it has small white flowers. I also need ragwort,” she pointed to an etched drawing on the ground, “it’s very leafy, and it has yellow flowers. And I need borage, it has blue flowers and fuzzy leaves. Can you get those, please?” She sounded urgent.

Darkkit nodded, and raced into the medicine den. Once inside, he was overwhelmed with the scent of many different herbs. “Sweet smelling, yellow flowers, and fuzzy. That’s it,” he reminded himself, and began sniffing through the herbs. Quickly he found the borage and ragwort; the chervil was harder. There was many sweet-smelling and white-flowered herbs in the store. After a few moments of panic, he found exactly what he was looking for. Feeling proud of himself, Darkkit raced back out, the herbs in his jaws. Outside, it had started a sprinkle. Small raindrops pattered Darkkit’s muzzle, back, and tail. He shook himself off without stopping and trotted through the nursery.

Redtail looked awful. He was stretched out on his side, his breathing sounded ragged and painful. His soft amber eyes were glazed and unfocused. His jaws were parted in a soundless wail. Leopardfoot was crouched by his head, licking him and speaking slow, reassuring words Darkkit couldn’t hear. Featherwhisker was by Redtail’s flank, running a ball of wet moss over it. Spottedleaf placed a pawful of a chewed pulp into Redtail’s gaping jaws, and caressed his throat to make him swallow. Darkkit tentatively stepped forward, pressing his nose into Spottedleaf’s cheek.

She jumped, and Darkkit stepped back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Spottedleaf shook her head. “Thank you, and you’re fine. Thank you so much.” She took the leaves from Darkkit and chewed them up.

Darkkit checked for Swiftbreeze. His grandmother was now running wet moss over Redtail’s flank, and Featherwhisker was crouched at Redtail’s haunches. “Alright, Redtail, I need you to push.”

Darkkit’s heart leapt. He turned his eyes to Redtail, who barely seemed to register the question. “Can’t...don’t...strength…” the tortoiseshell gasped out.

Spottedleaf spat out the pulp. “I’m going to help Featherwhisker, can you make sure Redtail swallows this?”

Darkkit nodded and scooped up the pulp. “This might be yucky, Redtail,” he warned. Leopardfoot smiled nonchalantly. Darkkit placed the pulp into Redtail’s mouth and stroked his throat. “You’re so strong,” he tried to assure Redtail. “Wait till you see your kits! They’ll be perfect!”

Redtail’s eyes were on Darkkit, and he tried to give a weak smile, but it broke off with a sudden shriek. Darkkit jumped and pressed himself closer to the laboring tom.

Leopardfoot lifted her head. “Kit?”

“Kit,” Featherwhisker confirmed. “I think it’s a tom.” He ran his paws over Redtail’s belly. “And there’s a second on the way.”

Darkkit’s belly flopped with relief. A kit was finally here! He peeked over Redtail’s shoulder to see Swiftbreeze lapping frantically at a tiny pink bundle. Darkkit gasped. This little tomkit was no bigger than a vole or a mouse, and didn’t have any fur!

Redtail stirred. “Kit? My kit?”

“Yes, little brother,” Leopardfoot said, “Your first kit is here.”

“He’s not breathing!” Swiftbreeze’s frantic mew broke Redtail’s happy smile into a look of fear.

Tigerclaw burst in, a stick in his jaws. He thrust it into Redtail’s mouth, making sure he had a firm grip before pulling away. 

Leopardfoot gave him a look of gratitude. “Take Darkkit outside, please.”

Darkkit shook his head and pressed up close to Redtail. “No.”

Tigerclaw lifted Darkkit up by the scruff. “Come on, they don’t need you in here right now.”

Darkkit kicked in the dark brown tabby’s grasp. “No! He needs me!” Several eyes turned to gaze at him sympathetically. Redtail looked up briefly before shutting his eyes again in a whimper.

Tigerclaw set his bundle down outside the nursery and moved to block the entrance as Darkkit tried to barrel back inside. “Let me in! Redtail needs me! He’ll be sad!”

Tigerclaw looked down with scorn. “Redtail does not need a frantic kit running around.”

Darkkit scowled. “He does need me. I don’t run around under everyone’s paws.” He tried to skirt underneath Tigerclaw’s pale-furred belly, but the large tabby dropped to his paws.

“Stay outside,” he snarled. “Kitting is not something for a kit to see.” The warrior lifted the kit up by the scruff again, taking him to the middle of the clearing. Rain splashed on their pelts and Darkkit shivered. “Go back to the elder’s den.”

Darkkit pouted. The elders, as much as he loved hanging out with them, weren’t as comforting as Swiftbreeze or Redtail. He dropped to his haunches, his hind legs splayed out to his side.

“Darkkit,” Tigerclaw warned. “Stop this whining.” Anger surged through Darkkit’s body. “Redtail has the medicine cats, he’ll be fine.”

Darkkit whined again. “But he does need me!”

“He needs peace and quiet. None of the other cats in there want a scared kit, either.”

Darkkit gave up arguing with Tigerclaw. He really did not want to anger the great warrior. He turned his back and crawled back to the elder’s den, his sodden tail dragging behind him. He tried to block out the continuous yelps from the nursery.

“Well, there you are!” Poppydawn chided when he slipped back into the hollow tree. “You’re all wet!” The red tabby she-cat began rasping her tongue over Darkkit’s wet fur. He relished her comfort, but it was so different from the tongue of Redtail or Swiftbreeze.

“Did you happen to get a peek inside the nursery?” Asked Windflight, yawning.

“He has one kit now, Featherwhisker can only think it’s a tom,” Darkkit answered, feeling a sudden wave of grief wash over him. “He wasn’t breathing, and was pink with no fur at all. I think he’s...he’s,” he tried to search for a word that didn’t fill his heart with sadness. “He’s dead,” he blurted out.

“Oh, little one, I’m so sorry!” Windflight mewed, pressing his nose into Darkkit’s damp fur. Darkkit felt his jaw tremble and tears rolled down his cheeks..

Stonepelt, who was snoring lightly, opened his silver-green eyes. “What happened?”

“Redtail lost his first kit,” Poppydawn filled in for Darkkit.

Sadness clouded the old tom’s gaze. “I should’ve been prepared to hear that. Kits born this early almost never survive-”

“Hush!” Poppydawn snapped. Darkkit felt as if his heart would burst. What if the other one doesn’t make it? Poppydawn covered his ears with another bout of licking. “Don’t listen to Stonepelt, he’s got silly thoughts and opinions.”

“Sorry,” Stonepelt whispered. “Anyway, I’m going out for a while.” He got to his paws, limping heavily on his left foreleg from a prior injury.

“It’s wet outside,” Darkkit said between sobs.

The old tom smiled. “I like sitting in the rain sometimes. Brings back memories.” He gave a sly smile. “Maybe I get a moment's peace before Redtail shrieks again.”

Darkkit knew it was an attempt to make him smile, but he didn’t feel better at all. “It’s not funny,” he whispered under his breath.

Stonepelt had already gone outside. Darkkit could hear him humming a melodious tune; it sounded hopeful, and bright. Darkkit couldn’t help but sway along.

“Stonepelt,” Windflight laughed. “Still humming the old hymns.”

“Hymns?” Darkkit asked between whimpers. He’d yet to hear of these. “Tell me.”

Poppydawn leaned into her mate, purring. “When I was still a kit, ThunderClan was run on song. We would sing about the grass, and the sky.”

Windflight cut in, “My mother taught me about some WindClan hymns, too. Apparently they still sing them on a regular basis.”

“Can you sing them for me?” Darkkit wondered. Hopefully a song would take away some of the fear in his heart.

Poppydawn and Windflight exchanged a glance. “I haven’t sung in a while, I don’t think I have it in me anymore,” the old she-cat murmured.

“Is singing forbidden?”

“No, no,” Windflight assured with a chuckle. “It’s just been buried, along with the dead. Old traditions die sometimes.”

Poppydawn opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a sudden, shrill cry echoing from the nursery.

Stonepelt had hurried back inside, dripping wet. “He scared me.” The old tom shook off his grey tabby fur. “I was singing for you, silly! Why’d you do that?” He mewed with a stressed laugh.

Windflight and Poppydawn turned to Stonepelt. “I should’ve recognized that,” Windflight murmured.

“What?” Darkkit asked Stonepelt, brushing away a tear that fell from his eye.

“He was humming a kit-welcoming hymn,” Poppydawn explained gently, licking at Darkkit’s eyes. “It’s sung to a cat in labor. It’s used as a distraction, but mostly as encouragement and hope.”

“Haven’t sung it in years,” Stonepelt added. “Not since Leopardfoot kitted.”

Darkkit nodded. “I’m sure Redtail would like to know you sang for him,” the dark tabby mewed softly. “I’ll tell him.”

Swiftbreeze’s soft voice came from outside. “Darkkit, sweet? Are you in there?”

Poppydawn pushed Darkkit to his paws. “He’s right here.” Swiftbreeze crawled through the den entrance. Her fur was wet and sticking out in clumps from the heavy rain outside.

“We’re done, you can come back now.”

“How’s Redtail?” Asked Poppydawn, clearly thinking the same as Darkkit.

Swiftbreeze sighed. “He’s lost a lot of blood, for one. The first kit was born dead, and the second is barely hanging on.” She dropped her gaze. Darkkit’s heart leapt. “Worst of all, Retail’s not producing any milk to feed it. He’s too early in, and the kits are scarcely developed.”

Darkkit crept up to Swiftbreeze, rubbing his cheek on her foreleg. She winced and pulled away gently. What was that? Does her leg hurt? Can I help?

Swiftbreeze picked up Darkkit by the scruff. “Thanks for keeping an eye on this little tornado,” she said to the elders.

“I’m not a tornado!” Darkkit insisted, feeling betrayed.

The elders all smiled at him. “Anytime,” Windflight replied. The old tom gave Swiftbreeze a sympathetic smile before she backed out of the den, Darkkit swinging from her jaws.

Darkkit could feel sadness rolling off of her in waves. “Swiftbreeze, what would happen if the kit doesn’t make it? What will happen to Redtail? He was finally happy with having kits!”

Swiftbreeze dropped Darkkit for a moment. He almost landed in a puddle of mud that had formed in the clearing. “That hurt,” he complained, shaking off his hindlegs.

“Sorry love,” Swiftbreeze murmured, giving her own leg a fierce lick. “I’m beginning to feel my age.” As she continued to lick, Darkkit sat down, feeling the inevitable chill prick on his pelt, and it wasn’t from the icy rain.

“The second kit is a she-kit. They’ve named her and her brother, Rowankit and Alderkit.”

You’re avoiding my question.

“But,” Swiftbreeze continued, “there is very little chance she’ll live much longer. She needs milk, and Redtail doesn’t have that.” Swiftbreeze settled down on her haunches, eyes watering. “We sent Runningwind back in to say goodbye. I don’t even think he could even do that.”

Darkkit felt his throat constrict. This wasn't supposed to happen! The dark kit stood up and wove around Swiftbreeze's legs, trying to silence the oncoming wail in both of their throats.

Swiftbreeze shook her head, as if she was trying to chase away her thoughts. "Come on, Dark," she said as she picked up Darkkit again. "Let's go inside."

Chapter Text

The following sunhigh was cruelly warm, sunny, and bright. Several songbirds danced on spindly legs in the clearing, chirping joyfully. The Clan didn’t even seem to notice the loss of two tiny and special lives. They exited the den, sunning themselves and sharing tongues. 

Darkkit scowled. Do they even care? Look at them. Going about their normal lives as if nothing happened! Bluestar even sent poor Runningwind out on a hunt this morning. “He needs some fresh air,” sure, but what about Redtail?

Redtail lifted his head sadly. His eyes were clouded and unfocused with pain. His fur looked matted, even though Darkkit had groomed him just that morning. Darkkit rushed to his side, covering him with a bout of licking. “Lay down, lay down,” he repeated what he had heard Swiftbreeze say late last night.

Redtail sighed. “I don’t know what I did wrong. I ate a healthy amount, drank more than what was necessary, limited my movement, why did they die?”

Darkkit looked to Swiftbreeze. His grandmother hadn’t slept well, either. She said she wasn’t feeling good, and woke up in a cold sweat. Spottedleaf said it was from stress and sadness.

Darkkit didn’t think that was true, because Redtail wasn’t sick.

Not physically sick.

Swiftbreeze stood up and limped to Redtail’s nest. “I know this is hard for you, and you want to find some explanation for this misfortune,” she murmured, nuzzling her son’s cheek while brushing her tail along Darkkit’s spine. “But Spottledleaf already said, sometimes things like this happen, and it’s no one’s fault. As hurt as this might leave you, you must stop blaming yourself. None of this is your fault.”

As she spoke, Redtail’s jaw quivered and his eyes watered. Swiftbreeze licked up tears that had begun to fall. “But Mother, I-”

“No buts. Grieve for the lives they could have lived, the families they could have raised.” She smiled, leaning closer to her son. “I’m sure Adderfang’s protecting them up in StarClan. He’ll be glad to have some company.”

Amber eyes smiled half-heartedly. “They’ll be safe under his protection.”

Swiftbreeze turned back to Darkkit’s nest. “Wake me up if you need anything, lovely. Darkkit, has Willowpelt fed you today?”

Darkkit’s belly growled. No, he hadn’t eaten at all. Willowpelt had come in during the night, but Darkkit’s belly hurt, and he couldn’t swallow anything. It had almost been a full day since his last feed. He shook his head at Swiftbreeze, but ignored the hunger gnawing at his belly. Spending time with Redtail was more important.

“Okay, but when you start to feel sick, tell me.” She yawned, and slowly lowered herself into the nest, eyes already shut.

Redtail pulled Darkkit closer with his paw. “You don’t need to stay with me. You need to eat. You’re starving, and your survival is more important than whether or not I have company.”

Darkkit knew this, of course, but he didn’t like thinking about himself first. He found that selfish.

Redtail spoke again. “Don’t wake Mother up, Runningwind will be back soon, and he can get Willowpelt.” He scooted forward, wincing as he did so. “Just eat, honey. You dying will hurt me more than you leaving me alone.”

Darkkit hesitated. He didn’t want to leave his foster father alone with his grief, but he certainly didn’t want to hurt him further. “Alright,” he agreed, getting to his paws and licking Redtail’s forehead. He walked outside the nursery, blinking as the bright sunlight hit his eyes.

“Darkkit?” Said a mumbly, sad voice. Darkkit lifted his head to see Runningwind, carrying a pitifully small mouse. A cloud of sorrow hung around the young tom, making his tail drag and shoulders limp.

Darkkit shuffled his paws. “Redtail told me to tell you to get my mother. He says I need to eat.” His belly growled again in response.

Runningwind nodded solemnly. “She’s in the warrior’s den.” The brown tom sighed and turned around; breathing ragged and heavy. “I’ll um...I’ll go get her.”

Runngingwind’s grief was so strong, it clawed at Darkkit’s heart. He didn’t know how to comfort him, and Darkkit himself needed comfort. He watched Runningwind stumble into the den, and his sister quickly gave him a sympathetic lick on the forehead. Mousefur whispered into his ear, mewing soft and warm words that Darkkit couldn’t hear.

“Is Runningwind getting Willowpelt?” Redtail asked from inside. “Tell him to come in her when-”

He broke off with a yowl. Darkkit detected a strong fear scent coming from him and raced inside.

But the yowl didn’t come from Redtail. It came from Swiftbreeze. She was writing in her nest, eyes wild with pain. “My heart! It burns!”

Darkkit felt fear stronger than he’d ever felt before. He rushed to his grandmother’s side, licking at her thrashing arm. “Spottedleaf!” Redtail shrieked, but Darkkit could barely hear.

Swiftbreeze gasped for air, but her chest didn’t rise. “It hurts. It hurts so much. StarClan, have mercy on me.”

“Don’t go!” Darkkit yelled into her face, pawing at her throat. “Redtail needs you! You can’t go!”

Swiftbreeze’s body convulsed violently, her jaws gapping in a silent scream one last time before her head flopped and her body lay eerily still. Her amber eyes were glazed, open wide in terror, even in death. Blood spilled from her mouth, pooling and staining the moss bed she and Darkkit shared.

“Swiftbreeze!” Darkkit shrieked in the cat’s face, shaking her shoulder harder and rougher. “Swiftbreeze, wake up!” The little tom felt the presence of another cat there, but he couldn’t tell who it was.

“Mother!” Redtail yelped, suddenly besides Darkkit, legs shaking but holding him stable. He poked his mother’s body with a paw. “No! You can’t die! We need you!”

Darkkit felt hot tears pool in his eyes and spill out onto his cheeks. He lapped at the dead cat’s cheek, her fur feeling cold and limp under his tongue. “No Swiftbreeze! You can’t go to StarClan yet!”

But his grandmother didn’t answer. Her chest didn’t rise and fall; her eyes stayed glazed open. 

“No!” Darkkit yelled, his heart felt like it was being pierced by thousands of tiny thorns.

Redtail wrapped his paws around the crying kit. “She’ll be hunting in StarClan now. Adderfang’ll be there. And my kits.” He drew in a shaky breath. “But they should all be here.”

Suddenly, Spottedleaf’s voice whispered softly, “She was a great mother, for us and for Darkkit. She is more than worthy to enter StarClan.”

“But I don’t want her to go to StarClan!” Darkkit wailed, burying his face into Redtail’s chest; which rattled with each and every breath.

“It was her time, little one,” Redtail sighed, lifting a paw to wipe his eyes. “What happened to her?” He asked his sister.

“Something with her heart. Sagewhisker of ShadowClan died the same way, as Yellowfang told me.”

 Darkkit didn’t recognize either of those names. A sense of trepidation was crawling through his pelt; What’s going to happen to me now?

A familiar scent wafted into the air, spiked up with fear. “Mother!” Darkkit’s own mother yelped, leaping into the nursery. Willowpelt buried her muzzle into Swiftbreeze’s brown tabby spotted fur. “How did this happen?”

Darkkit watched Spottedleaf run her paws down her littermate’s spine. “Something was wrong with her heart. Nothing that me or Featherwhisker could’ve cured. I don’t know how it’s caused, but it probably flared up due to stress and-”

“ Stress ?”

Darkkit froze. Terror washed over him, drowning the feeling of despair. He knew exactly what his mother was thinking.

Redtail seemed to know, too, he crouched protectively over Darkkit’s shivering frame. “Mother did not die because she was worried about him,” he snarled, going rigid.

Willowpelt didn’t listen. “If this little brat wasn’t born, she may still be alive. Curse you, Tawnyspots! I should have never been kind to you!” Spottedleaf tried to place a paw on her shoulder, but she shook it off with a shake, nipping at the medicine cat’s kind support. “And you!” Darkkit shook, and Redtail growled. Willowpelt’s face was so closer to Darkkit’s, he could see inside her mouth and felt afraid she might swallow him whole.  “You don’t do anything for this Clan! You just sit and moan about one thing to another, as if the Clan revolves around you!”

Redtail hissed, fangs bared, claws unsheathed. Stop it! Stop fighting! Darkkit screamed at the adult cats in his head, but not daring to make a single sound.

“If you even think that I care about that lump of pitiful fur, you are wrong!” Willowpelt’s voice was dangerously low and quiet. “I don’t care how it feels or if it dies! It would be easier on me if it was dead.”

Darkkit froze. He wanted, so badly, to believe his mother was speaking out of grief. But she would say that anyway.

Redtail was vibrating with rage. He was emitting a vicious growl, and, before anyone could stop him, he leapt onto Willowpelt. “ How dare you? ”

Spottedleaf leapt between her two siblings, fur bristling. “Stop it! Mother would not like us fighting like this! Redtail!” She turned her gaze flickered ominously. “You should be staying still! Willowpelt !”

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

Willowpelt turned her eyes to meet her sister’s. “I don’t care what you say. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“ You should stop caring about yourself and worry about how Darkkit feels!” Redtail interrupted, and dropped down to lap up Darkkit’s tears. Darkkit shivered and gulped down his sobs. Redtail’s rage made Darkkit’s heart ache even more than it had prior.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

Spottedleaf stepped up and whispered harshly into Willowpelt’s ear, her fur bristling. “Well, I can’t wait then,” Willowpelt sniffed, backing away and narrowing her eyes at Darkkit. “All the more easy for me.”

Redtail let out another low growl, but his eyes returned to the same sad, tired, look that he’d had for the past moon. Darkkit sniffed and nuzzled into Redtail, limbs shaking. He blocked his view from Swiftbreeze’s lifeless, dead eyes. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. Redtail pulled Darkkit close to his chest, licking his ears in mewing softly: “I love you so much. Don’t forget that, okay? I love you.”

Chapter Text

Swiftbreeze’s vigil was long and lonely. The Clan had a gathering to go to, after all. But only Redtail stayed behind for the vigil. Leopardfoot and Patchpelt said they had important business to take care of. Spottedleaf, too. And Willowpelt didn’t count.

But Swiftbreeze was their mother! They should be here! Darkkit thought bitterly as he leaned close to his grandmother’s body, choking on a sob that threatened to escape his throat.

Many of their Clanmates had stayed behind in the vigil. Tigerclaw, for one. The dark brown tabby sat, hunched over Swiftbreeze’s head, licking the soft fur on her neck. The tom’s eyes glowed in the evening light, intense and unsettling. Redtail had been outside for the first half, but had since retreated back to the nursery, complaining of a horrible ache.

“Do you think she’s in StarClan with her mate now?” Darkkit asked Tigerclaw, shaking from the cold.

Tigerclaw mewed gruffly. “Of course.”

“ And with Redtail’s kits?”

“Yes.”

Darkkit became acutely aware of Windflight standing over him, and he gave the kit a soft lick. “Have you eaten today? You’re looking so thin.”

Darkkit dismissed the question. The hunger pains had grown sharper, but he didn’t complain. Now, he felt sick, and his belly throbbed. He was too worried to ask Willowpelt for milk. His mother had disappeared after the argument and he hadn’t seen her since.

“Only a moon and a half,” Windflight continued. “Then you don’t need to depend on that awful cat.”

It’s not that simple. We live in the same Clan.

“Darkkit?” Both cat’s heads snapped up as Redtail called from inside. “You should come in. It’s getting cold.”

Windflight nudged Darkkit’s rear with his nose. “In you go. Your father’s calling for you.”

Darkkit slipped inside the nursery, stealing one last glance at Swiftbreeze’s body. Redtail was lying on his side, breathing coming in short gasps. “Are you okay?” Darkkit asked immediately.

“I-I don’t know. Just stay with me for a little bit.” Redtail thumped his plumy red tail besides his belly. Darkkit curled up next to him, relishing the warmth.

“I’ll stay for as long as you need me,” Darkkit murmured, touching Redtail’s pink nose with a paw. He winced as a sharp stab shot through his belly.

“I love you, Dark. I love you so much, more than I can describe. I’m so lucky to have you.” Redtail mewed over and over, his voice shaking, his entire body shivering.

What is going on? Darkkit thought indignantly. He is acting so weird. “What’s happening?” he eventually inquired.

Redtail just sighed, and didn’t say anything. But he continued with the fierce licking and soft sobs. After a while, Darkkit conceded and fell into a doze at the paws of his father.

“Darkkit! Darkkit!”

Darkkit awoke, startled. Patchpelt was poking at Darkkit’s flank, whispering urgently. “What?” Darkkit mewed sleepily.

Spottedleaf stepped up and gave Darkkit a pawful of herbs. Obediently, Darkkit lapped them up. He was so hungry, he didn’t mind the awful taste. “Come with us, we want to take you for a walk.”

“A walk? What if I faint?”

“That’s what the herbs are for. Come on! Let’s go!” Patchpelt mewed. His voice sounded like he was forcing himself to be cheerful. “Say goodbye to Redtail.”

Darkkit stretched and stepped from the nest. A cold breeze hit him immediately. He turned and saw a gaping hole in the nursery wall. “You should fix that. It’s cold in here!”

“Runningwind’s going to do that. Come on, let’s go!” Spottedleaf spoke this time, sounding more excited that Patchpelt.

Darkkit looked back at Redtail. “He’s asleep. What if he wakes up and doesn’t know where I am?” Darkkit pondered.

Patchpelt mewed softly, “We already told him. Now say goodnight, he’ll know you’re there.”

Darkkit leaned over and licked Redtail’s nose. “Goodnight! I’ll see you in the morning!” Darkkit thought he saw Redtail stir, but dismissed it.

“Come on then,” the black and white tom mewed before slipping out with his sister.

“Where are we going? Why do you want to take me there?” Darkkit called after the two cats as he followed them out of the nursery, out of the camp, and up the slope.

Outside, it was so dark, everything on ground was black as Darkkit’s own pelt. Only the moon and the spirits of StarClan gave light, which was little. It was chilly, too. Darkkit’s breath came out in a puffy white cloud before disappearing. He fluffed out his fur to protect himself from the chill.

Spottedleaf picked the tiny kit up by the scruff his neck. “Hurry, Leopardfoot’s waiting for us.”

“Leopardfoot’s coming to? This is weird. What’s happening?”

Patchpelt glanced back at Spottedleaf. His amber eyes glowed in the darkness. They shone of nothing but sorrow and regret. “Should we tell him? He’ll figure out sooner or later, best get him prepared.”

What is going on?

Spottedleaf gently set Darkkit down on a cold leafy bed. Both her and Patchpelt pressed against each other, Darkkit in the middle. “Willowpelt is an awful, horrible mother to you. She doesn’t care for you. She rarely feeds you. You’re small enough pass for a newborn kit. She yells at you if you so much as look at her, let alone suckle for too long.”

I already know this.

Patchpelt spoke this time. “We’ve been planning this for a while. Me, Leopardfoot, Spottedleaf, Redtail, Runningwind, and even our mother. Runningwind’s out there’s luring a fox down the path. The path we went down for a while? That’s where he’s leading it.”

Darkkit felt a jolt of fear. “You’re trying to kill me?”

Spottedleaf hushed the kit with a lick over the ear. “No, little one. We’re faking your death.”

“Why?”

Patchpelt sighed. “If we just take you to the place you’re going, the Clan would be suspicious. And they’d eventually find you. We can’t let that happen.” He took a deep breath, and Darkkit held his.

“What Patchpelt means, Dark, is that we’re taking you away.”

Away? “What? No! Don’t, please!” Darkkit begged the two cats, looking from one to the other, watching as a look of sad helplessness crossed their faces.

“We’re taking you to WindClan, Dark.”

Chapter Text

“WindClan?” Darkkit screamed. “Is that because I may have other kin there? Or are you tired of me?”

“Calm down, calm down, it’s okay. You’re going to be fine,” Patchpelt attempted to assure the screaming kit.

“ No! It is not okay!” Darkkit insisted, his vision blurring with tears. I want to go home! I don’t like this walk at all! Redtail!

Spottedleaf clamped Darkkit’s mouth shut with her paw. “There’s a nursing queen there, Ryestalk. Her kits are only a little younger than you are. We talked to her during the Gathering, and both her and her leader Heatherstar are willing to take you in. They agree that a kit like you should have a mother that loves him and is willing to keep him from dying.”

Darkkit sniffed. “But you love me. And Patchpelt. And Redtail.” He wiped away the tears that had started to fall.

“We do,” Patchpelt said. “And we always will. We’re doing this because we love you. Everyday I see you, and it feels like a thousand little thorns are piercing my heart. I can’t believe that my sister is doing that. She was such a sweet cat. Until you came along. Now she doesn’t even talk to us .”

Darkkit gulped down another sob and considered their offer. On one paw, having a loving mother and a guaranteed food source was more than what he needed. On the other paw, he was afraid to go somewhere new. New cats, new customs, new territory, and with no one he knew. The idea made him stand stark still, paralyzed with terror and a shaking stomach ache.

Spottedleaf picked Darkkit up again. “Come on, Leopardfoot’s waiting for us, with a WindClan patrol.”

Darkkit took deep, shaky breaths as Spottedleaf carried him, Patchpelt following dejectedly behind. The cold winds whipped at Darkkit’s short and thin pelt, and he had little body fat to keep him warm. He shivered as a stronger blast hit his belly.

“Here’s the moor.” Patchpelt pulled ahead of his sister, flicking his tail towards a desolate plain of tussocky grasses and heather plants. The moon shone brightly on the moor, giving the territory a nice silver sheen. Darkkit wiggled out of Spottedleaf’s grasp and dropped to the ground, sniffing precariously.

“There’s Leopardfoot,” Patchpelt whispered, words snatched away by the wind.

The black she-cat was trotting towards the three cats, two WindClan warriors flanking her. Darkkit saw a black and white tomcat with amber eyes, like Patchpelt, and a smaller grey she-cat.

“Talltail.” Spottedleaf dipped her head politely. “And hello, Ashpaw.”

The black and white tom, Talltail, nodded. “Thank you for informing us on this kit. We are more than willing to help you. Follow us to our camp.”

The older cats started across the moor. Darkkit hesitated. The WindClan apprentice nudged him forward. “Come on! Let’s take you home!”

Your home.

Spottedleaf glanced back to make sure the kit was following. Darkkit took a careful step forward, still in tears.

“My name’s Ashpaw,” the apprentice yipped to Darkkit. She was grey and had soft looking fur. She looked to be a new apprentice, perhaps 7 or 8 moons old. She had a warm and friendly gleam in her eyes, and she spoke softly to the terrified kit.

“Talltail brought me because I begged,” she purred. “My mentor is called Larksplash, but she’s not here right now. She also mentored Ryestalk, who will be your mother.”

Darkkit felt himself being lifted into the air again. This time, Leopardfoot had him in her jaws. “I know you’re scared, little one. But you’ll be alright.”

Darkkit trembled, and not just from the cold. He missed Redtail. He wanted more than anything to be back in the Thunder Clan nursery, curled up at Redtail’s belly, dreaming of birds and hunting. “What about Redtail?” He finally asked.

“You’ll see him again during Gatherings. Don’t worry, he’ll be just fine.”

But I need him.

The cats traveled in silence, only the sound of their pawsteps and breathing audible from the harsh winds. Darkkit’s teeth chattered in the cold.

“We’ve arrived,” Talltail said at last, pointing to a bush with his long tail. Leopardfoot gently set Darkkit on the ground besides Talltail’s paws. Darkkit knew it was a silent message to stay put, but he ran back, darting underneath her pale belly.

A black and white she-cat nosed outside the bush, turning her pale blue eyes on Darkkit. Her eyes widened as she eyed him up and down. “Oh, is that him? Poor little scrap, he’s starving!”

The she-cat raced towards Darkkit, and he could smell anxiety flooding off of her, but he pressed closer to Leopardfoot, whimpering.

Patchpelt held out a paw to stop the cat, while Spottedleaf told her, “He’s a little shy.”

Leopardfoot stood up, revealing Darkkit. He crouched low and bunched up his fur to seem just a bit bigger. Maybe he’d look braver than he felt.

“Palebird’s pretty nice,” Ashpaw whispered to Darkkit. “But she’s kind of overprotective. She’s also Talltail’s mother.”

Patchpelt nodded to Palebird. She stepped forward and gave Darkkit’s fur a sniff, and the kit hissed as loud as his tiny mouth and lungs would allow. “He’s malnourished. And cold. We better get him some herbs and milk right away.”

The tabby kit watched the three ThunderClan cats gather around him, licking his fur, regret shining in their eyes. “We’ll miss you,” Patchpelt murmured, nuzzling Darkkit’s muzzle with his own.

“Don’t go,” Darkkit whined, his vision blurring again with tears. “Take me home with you!”

The three cats pulled away. “Thank you so much for taking him. We wouldn’t ever forgive ourselves if he died,” Leopardfoot told the WindClan cats.

“Don’t worry about it,” Talltail said. He pulled Darkkit away from his kin with a paw. Startled, Darkkit hissed again. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” Talltail spoke softly.

“Go away!” Darkkit screamed.

Spottedleaf gave Darkkit one last lick on the face. “Be good to your new family. We love you.” To Palebird, she added, “He’s very sweet, despite his behavior now. Just try not to push him farther than what he’s ready to do for a while.”

Darkkit felt Palebird grab his scruff as she pulled him closer with a paw. Spottedleaf and her siblings gave one last glance before all three of them bounded back towards the forest.

“No! No! Come back! Take me home!” Darkkit screamed. Several WindClan cats jumped up, startled, and stared, green, yellow, amber, blue eyes boarding into his fur. And he still shrieked. “I don’t like it here! Come back! Spottedleaf! Leopardfoot! Patchpelt! Redtail! ”

Palebird lifted him up and carried him inside the bush. He cried, begging her to take him home, but she shook her head. “Ryestalk, here’s the new kit.”

I don’t want to be your kit!

A grey tabby queen stepped out from the shadows. She had soft, kind amber eyes that flashed with pity when she laid them on Darkkit. “Poor baby! He looks scared out of his thin little pelt! Put him down besides Mudkit and Tornkit!”

Darkkit was suddenly dropped on a nest of moss besides two other kits. Ryestalk curled her body around the three of them, giving Darkkit a lick on the top of the head. “This must be so scary for you,” Ryestalk whispered. “But we won’t do anything to hurt you. We’re here to protect you.”

Across the nursery, another queen and a tom with three kits of their own opened their eyes to look at the screaming kit.

“Go back to sleep, you three,” Ryestalk mewed to the kits are their little eyes stared at Darkkit. They closed their eyes but their ears remained pricked towards the sound.

Darkkit continued to cry. It didn’t matter what this new cat said, he didn’t like it here. Nothing smelled familiar and it was cold and dark. These new cats were getting too close too fast. “I want to go home! Take me home, please! What did I do wrong? Please, tell me what I did!”

Ryestalk didn’t answer any of his questions. She licked at his continuously flowing tears, and hummed in his ears. Her kits were opening their eyes too, annoyed by their rude awakening by the screaming of the newcomer.

“Who’s that, Mama?” Asked the brown kit.

“Mudkit, this is Darkkit. He’s going to live with us.”

Mudkit gave Darkkit a disdainful sniff. “Where did he come from?”

“He came from ThunderClan, but he’s coming to live with us.”

Mudkit didn’t stop. “Why is he here? Won’t his mother be upset when he doesn’t come home?”

Pain stabbed Darkkit’s heart. This dumb kit doesn’t know anything! Look at how fat he is! He’s probably never felt hunger before!

“Hush!” Ryestalk snapped. “He’s here because his mother doesn’t care about him! Now be respectful, and stop sniffing him like that!”

Mudkit rolled his eyes and scooted closer to Ryestalk, and began to suckle. The scent of milk hit Darkkit’s nose and he felt queasy. He was so hungry! But he dared not take a single sip. He didn’t trust any of these cats.

“ThunderClan queens shouldn’t be having kits if they neglect them.”

Darkkit didn’t recognize this voice. It was gruff, and the cat sounded cranky. Instinctively, Darkkit pressed into Ryestalk’s foreleg. He’d heard Willowpelt speak in this voice too often.

“Just hurry up and give him that thyme! You already know the story, now go help the kit!” Palebird mewed, exasperated. She walked into the nursery, a grey and brown tom following just behind. “Hawkheart’s brought some thyme.”

Ryestalk wiped away Darkkit’s tears with her paw. “I don’t think he’s in shock. He’s just scared.”

“I want to go home,” Darkkit cried out again, his whole face was wet and his heart hurt like nothing he could ever compare it to.

The tom approached the nest. “Spottedleaf said he was a moon and a half old. He looks even younger than your two!”

Ryestalk pushed him up to Hawkheart. The tom’s muzzle was streaked with grey hairs, a blatant sign of age. The feathers on his shoulders, as well as a bright green moth wing by his face showed his status as a medicine cat; they were often the most adorned cats of the Clans. But he didn’t have the soft light of affection in his eyes like Spottedleaf did, or the friendly tone of Featherwhisker. “Open up, you need to swallow these.” He held out a pawful of thin leaves with a sharp scent. Darkkit clamped his muzzle shut and shook his head.

Hawkheart’s fur bristled, but Ryestalk lifted her paw. “Don’t get angry with him. This is a new environment, he doesn’t know anyone, and he’s scared. Besides, I don’t think he’ll even need them. If anything, he needs something to eat.”

Hawkheart almost smiled. “You’re right, a queen knows more about kits than any medicine cat ever would. Just keep an eye on him.” The old tom turned his tail and left.

Palebird left the nursery just afterwards, leaving the four cats alone. The nursery suddenly seemed much, much bigger. And Darkkit felt much, much smaller.

“He looks hungry,” Mudkit whispered to his mother. The kit's eyes were wide with curiosity as he eyed Darkkit up and down.

Ryestalk hushed him, but invited Darkkit to her belly. “Your family told me that the last time you were fed was yesterday after sunhigh. A kit your age should be eating four times daily. Come, have some milk.”

Darkkit hesitated. These cats seemed nice to him, but he didn’t know them yet. He didn’t know who their parents or siblings were, he didn’t know if they preferred mice or squirrels, he didn’t even know their personalities. He stared up at Ryestalk, searching for something, anything , that might give him an answer.

“Go on,” she insisted. “You’ll feel so much better!” Her voice was kind and welcoming. She had a warm smile and a soft, comfortable pelt. But Willowpelt’s pelt is soft too. And her eyes sometimes look kind.

“I promise, I am not going to hurt you. I know exactly what you’re thinking, and I promise that I am not like your birth mother.”

Feeling somewhat convinced, he slowly crawled up and latched onto a teat, and began to suckle. It was shocking, how different it tasted. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. Willowpelt’s milk was sharp and woodsey, and Ryestalk’s was soft but a little sour. But he was so hungry, he didn’t mind.

He even surprised himself when he heard a loud purr emitting from his throat. Startled, he forced himself to stop.

“No, it’s okay,” Ryestalk mewed. “You have a very nice purr.”

Maybe I can learn to trust her. She doesn’t seem like she would hurt me. I don’t think she would get mad if I accidentally poked her belly.

“You’re very sweet,” Ryestalk mewed again. “I don’t see why any cat would want to hurt a cute little scrap like you.”

Darkkit felt his fur grow hot with embarrassment. Cats besides his kin hadn’t called him “cute” before. It was strange, but he sort of enjoyed it.

Possibly, I can learn to like WindClan.

Chapter Text

The sun was rising, warm golden light breaking through the small entrance from the medicine den. A sunray touched Runningwind’s eyelids, waking him up. Runningwind‘s consciousness awoke and with that the familiar stabbing ache of grief. If everything had gone well, Runningwind thought with sorrow so overwhelming it hurt to even breathe, I’d still be eagerly waiting for my first kits. My kits! And in a moon, those kits would’ve been with us, and little Darkkit as well. Oh StarClan, whatever did we do to take this away from us?

Runningwind glanced over at his sleeping mate, not even able to comprehend what Redtail was going through. Redtail had lost their kits, his mother, and Darkkit in not even two days. At least Darkkit was alive, but Redtail often spoke of Darkkit as if they wouldn’t see each other again until they were both dead.

It was only that previous day that the Clan had spent the whole morning looking for Darkkit, eventually giving up, claiming that there was no way a kit like him could survive a foxes jaws. “He was just too weak, underfed, and sickly,” one cat said.

Runningwind knew Darkkit was safe, but he couldn’t help wondering if the search patrol would find what was left of Darkkit after the so-called fox had taken him away. It was a dark thought and Runningwind quickly pushed it away and hurried outside, hoping to get his mind off his dead and gone kits.

No, it won’t get my mind off. Everytime I think of how I’d be bringing a hearty meal back home to my pregnant mate, only to remember our kits are gone!

Thrushpelt, ThunderClan's deputy and Darkkit's paternal uncle, stopped Runningwind with a nod over to his side. Runningwind joined the spotted tom with heavy paws dragging along the camp's dirt floor. Thrushpelt smiled with warm green eyes. "Do you need a break from working?"

Runningwind nodded his head stiffly. "Yes, but Bluestar keeps sending me out "

Thrushpelt's brow furrowed. "Really? Well that's quite unfair. Deputy's orders, you're off. You're hurting badly. Take a break and stay with Redtail. He needs you." Thrushpelt's paw rested on Runningwind's. "I know what it's like. You're not alone."

Runningwind didn't expect to be comforted by the deputy's words, yet he was. "Thanks," he mumbled before uttering apologies. "I'm so sorry about Darkkit. He was all you had left of Tawnyspots and now he is gone. I'm sorry we lost him." Pain shook his voice knowing that he couldn't tell Thrushpelt that Darkkit was safe in WindClan. It was too risky; the Clan couldn't go get him back. Runningwind knew they would try to, and Darkkit's family couldn't allow it.

Thrushpelt thought a long moment before answering, his words heavy. "Darkkit's in StarClan now, with his father. Tawnyspots must've been ecstatic to see his little baby, to lick him and snuggle him for the first time. Darkkit would've loved it." Thrushpelt's eyes got misty, and he gulped several times before continuing. "Darkkit is safest in StarClan, with Tawnyspots and Swiftbreeze watching over him, and your little kittens as well."

Tawnyspots would've loved to see Darkkit. I'm almost sad that that isn't the case.

"Take a break from working for as long as you need," Thrushpelt went on. "It's okay to take time to grieve."

Runningwind exhaled deeply. "I will. Redtail needs me now. Thank you."

"No problem," responded Thrushpelt as Runningwind hurried back into the medicine den with his mate.

Redtail was awake, his sad amber eyes dragging around the den. "Runningwind," he croaked, whimpering as waterfalls glistened and spilled down his face. Runningwind hurried to his side and licked his face dry.

"It'll be alright. I'm going to stay with you as long as you need me to."

Redtail sighed, long, shakey, and heartbroken. "Do you think StarClan took our kits because they were mad I want to be a tom and not a she-cat?"  

Runningwind's heart quickened. "No! Of course not! StarClan would never be that cruel!" Well, I hope not!

Redtail's sobbing didn't let up. "I miss Darkkit. I want him back–I know it's selfish, but I miss him so much. I know he's safe now but I need him!" A mottled head dropped onto dark paws and let out wails of stress. "He was like my own kit! He at least would give me some sense of comfort from the loss already! The aching is too strong! I really want him to come home; I need him back!"

Runningwind listened to Redtail vent, keeping respectfully quiet before curling up next to his mate and hugging him close with his paws. "Your feelings are perfectly understandable, my love. Little Darkkit was so important to you. And now, just like our own little ones, he too is gone. But not to StarClan. You'll see him again."

Don't break. Don't break. Stay strong for Redtail. Don't break.

"I need to see him now," Redtail moaned, flopping his head onto Runningwind's chest. "It hurts too much to come to terms with the fact that he's gone away to someplace where I'm not."

Runningwind's heart twisted. "Red, please. Darkkit was not safe here. As much as you need his comfort, he was surely going to die if he had stayed here. That heartbreak would've been detrimental to you, right?"

"I guess," Redtail sniffed. "I don't exactly know what I want. Because it all is just too much to handle in so short a time. I don't think I'll ever heal."

"Me neither," Runningwind gulped. "But you are the strongest cat I know. Everything you've done has come with complications and with misfortune, you've taken risk after risk. Who's to say you can't push through this again?"

"That was easy. This isn't," Redtail protested. Although he seemed more calmed down, he was still nowhere near okay. "Everything before, I've had a strong support group. Now, almost everyone is gone."

"I'm still here, Red! I can be everyone!"

To Runningwind's surprise, Redtail let out a laugh. "Oh, you're adorable." Redtail closed his eyes again and softly licked Runningwind's shoulder. "I'd surely be lost if I didn't have you by my side, you're my everything."

Runningwind's ears fell to the side of his head, brushing against Redtail's fur. "I'll always be there for you, till the day I die, and for eternity onwards."

Redtail had started to drift off to sleep again, and Runningwind gently slid him off his shoulder and stood up. He stared down at his mate, who was almost unrecognizable from just a few days earlier. He was thinner, both from kitting and he hadn't been eating well either. Spottedleaf had moved him from the nursery the day after Darkkit was taken away, to the medicine den where he could be closely monitored. Redtail's kitting was a tremendous effort, and his body was taking some time to recover. Leopardfoot said that she was in recovery up until Tigerclaw was eating solid food. Runningwind hoped that it wouldn't be the same case for Redtail. Spottedleaf suspected that he'd be on his feet in less than a moon.

Runningwind had felt like an outsider with both Darkkit's escape and Redtail's kitting. The whole three days, many of the Clan didn't seem to remember that he too was grieving. No one except Thrushpelt had considered talking to him about his loss. No one except Redtail ever asked how he was feeling. Cats would come with their condolences often, but Runningwind felt forgotten. Bluestar still sent him on patrols the day after his kits died.

I understand that I might not have been as prominent in Darkkit's life as Redtail was, but why doesn't anyone think about me and my emotions with the kits? I can't just get through the days without breaking down yet, I'm a wreck on patrols, why doesn't anyone care? I lost my kits too!

Spottedleaf slipped inside the den and Runningwind quickly dried his eyes. Spottedleaf gave him a look. "I saw that. You can cry if you need to, it's alright."

"No one cares what I think, though," Runningwind replied bitterly. "I'm being sent out on patrol the morning after my kits died. I'm hunting after we get home from looking for Darkkit. Tigerclaw glared at me for crying that morning, and the rest of the patrol didn't even care!"

Spottedleaf rubbed Redtail's head with some sweet smelling herbs. "I'll remind Bluestar to keep you off duty for some time, I'm sorry that she didn't consider that before."

"It's not fair," Runningwind whispered hoarsely. "It's not fair that we lost our kits. It's not fair that Swiftbreeze died so soon. It's not fair that Darkkit was born to someone who didn't care. It's not fair that we had to evacuate him to a new home. Nothing has gone right for so long."

"I know," Spottedleaf sighed. "None of that was supposed to happen, and none of it was fair."

Runningwind laid down with his head on Redtail's shoulder. "I just hope everything goes well for Darkkit."

"I'll ask Hawkheart and Barkface about him the next time I see them. I'm sure he'll be alright. Scared out of his mind, but he'll be fine."

Long moments of silence passed by in what seemed like hours. Spottedleaf watched as Featherwhisker entered the den and placed more herbs at her paws, and walked back out again, fluffy tail swishing constantly. Redtail's eyes blinked open momentarily before closing, and Spottedleaf pulled away to organize the herbs Featherwhisker left. Runningwind sat, thinking about nothing, mind completely empty, body completely numb, feelings completely gone.

Grief had its way of doing that.

Chapter Text

The sun was high, casting small shadows across the WindClan camp. Heatherstar and Talltail sat in the shade under the highrock, talking quietly. Cats dotted the clearing, eating fresh-kill, sharing tongues, clearing out bedding. Darkkit spotted the white pelt of Flylight curled up in a nest of moss and bracken under a shrub, tucking in for a nap. His sister Wrenflight was walking with the warrior Stagleap, purring softly. The older kits, Sorrelkit and Pigeonkit play fought by the warrior’s nest, and Hopkit was playing on his own to the side.

Darkkit had been in WindClan for four days now. For the first three, he stayed inside, too scared to face the other WindClan warriors. He still wasn’t ready to call them his Clanmates. He cried for Redtail during the nights, but Ryestalk never got angry with him. Instead, she licked him slowly, whispering comforting words and singing softly until he fell asleep.

But he still missed Swiftbreeze and Redtail, and that would never change.

Tornkit and Mudkit had encouraged Darkit outside the nursery, so he could meet his new Clanmates. He objected at first, pressing up to Ryestalk, but was eventually shoved out of his comfort zone.

They’re not my Clanmates. And they will never be my Clanmates.

“That’s where the warriors sleep!” Tornkit explained, waving his paw to a cluster of nests in the center of the clearing.

“Out in the open?” Darkkit didn’t understand how they could close their eyes without worry of a hawk or a fox dragging them away.

“Yeah. I don’t see how the other Clans can stand not seeing the warriors of Silverpelt while they dream. I want to sleep like that, but Mama says no.”

“Right,” Darkkit mewed nervously, following Tornkit outside the nursery. 

“And that’s the medicine den! Barkface is very nice and he likes kits, but Hawkheart’s scary and he really only tolerates Hopkit and Barkface,” Mudkit added, joining in with the two other kits. Barkface was WindClan’s younger medicine cat, short and round, with a playful and kind spirit. Darkkit had seen him only one time, and his warm eyes reminded him of Spottedleaf.

“Who’s your father? I haven’t seen him yet, does he ever visit you?” Darkkit asked the younger kits.

Mudkit’s face dropped. “Actually, he’s dead. He died before we were born, Mama didn’t even know she was pregnant with us.” He finished with a sad sigh, leaning onto his brother.

We’re more similar than I thought. “Mine’s dead, too. I never met him, but his littermates and half-siblings tell me everything about him.” Darkkit got to his paws, suddenly excited. “He was the deputy of my Clan before he got sick. And then he asked my mother if she’d be willing to carry his kits, because that’s one thing he wanted to have, so badly, and he didn’t have a mate. For some reason, she agreed, but then she didn’t want anything to do with me.”

Tornkit gave Darkkit a empathetic pat on the shoulder. “We’re alike. And now you have a mother that loves you! And I’m sure your father would have loved you too.”

“Our’s was named Shrewclaw. And he was Barkface’s littermate. What about yours?” Mudkit asked, cocking his head.

“Tawnyspots. He has two littermates, Dappletail and Thrushpelt, and three half-siblings, Rosetail, Thistleclaw, and Sweetpaw.” With a pang, he remembered Windflight, who had always loved Darkkit because he had loved his son. I hope he’s okay.

Mudkit flicked his tail towards the medicine den. “Hawkheart and Heatherstar had an older brother named Eaglestorm, and he had a half-Clan kit named Windflight. Maybe you’re kin!”

Darkkit’s tail flicked up at the mention of his grandfather. “Yes! Windflight’s my grandfather!”

Tornkit snorted. “So the Clan leader and the cranky medicine cat are your kin? I feel sorry for you. But Heatherstar’s cool!”

“Let’s tell Hawkheart!” Mudkit yipped, leaping around to race into the medicine den. Tornkit followed quickly, but Darkkit hesitated. Hawkheart wasn’t the nicest, and Darkkit was afraid to go near him. But if we’re kin, I shouldn’t be so scared. He followed the kits into the medicine den.

“Well, hello you little gorse thorns!” Barkface mewed affectionately as the three kits tumbled into the medicine den. “How’s everything for you? Darkkit! I see you’re up and out, how are you adjusting?”

“Fine,” Darkkit croaked, shifting his paws nervously.

“Barkface! Darkkit’s Hawkheart and Heatherstar’s kin! Windflight’s his grandfather!” Mudkit squealed, clambering on top of Barkface’s head.

“Windflight?” Came the gruff voice Darkkit knew to be Hawkheart. “He’s my brother’s kit.” The grey tom stepped forward, eyeing Darkkit. “So, you are my kin then. But distant,” he chuckled. “It makes me feel so old.”

Tornkit giggled. “You’re a cranky old badger!”

Darkkit half expected Hawkheart to snarl at Tornkit’s remark, but he laughed. “I am a cranky old badger, probably the oldest and crankiest in all the four Clans!”

Stonepelt’s pretty grouchy , Darkkit found himself arguing. But not to me.

“Now run along before the badger eats you up,” Barkface shooed the kits away. “Go show Darkkit the elders' den.”

“Oh, maybe Lilywhisker’s got a story for us!” Mudkit suggested, and raced away, tiny tail held up high. Darkkit and Tornkit scrambled after him.

Ashpaw was reentering from patrol, her sister Morningpaw chittering with her. “Hi Darkkit!” The apprentices yipped out greetings as the kits rushed past. “It’s good to see you out!”

Darkkit nodded in acknowledgement, slowing down as the other kits slowed. 

“Whiteberry! Lilywhisker! We’ve brought Darkkit!” Tornkit said, panting.

Two elders were lying and sunning themselves on the rocks. One was pure white, and the other was brown. The white cat, a tom, lifted his broad head. “Ah, yes. Our newest Clanmate. Welcome, little one.”

I don’t really want to be your Clanmate. “Hi,” he mewed politely, despite his reluctance.

Mudkit bounced at the brown cat’s paws. “Tell us a story about tunneling!”

The brown cat sighed wistfully. “Not today. I don’t want to worry the newcomer.” She turned her head to face Darkkit. “I’m glad I can finally meet you.”

“M-me too,” Darkkit stammered.

“My name’s Whiteberry,” the white tom said. “And she’s Lilywhisker.” Whiteberry shifted himself so he was lying in a more comfortable position. Lilywhisker sat up and dragged herself close to the kits. Darkkit gasped, her back end trailed behind and wouldn’t move at all!

“How did that happen?”

Mudkit and Tornkit looked expectantly at Lilywhisker. “Tell us! I haven’t heard it before!” Mudkit chirped.

Lilywhisker looked into Darkkit’s eyes. “It’s a scary story,” she murmured. “Would you like to hear it?”

Darkkit considered. He liked stories, and he never minded scary stories, as long as they weren’t told to him during the night. “Alright,” he mewed.

Lilywhisker eased herself back down, Mudkit and Tornkit at her paws, ready to listen. Darkkit backed away from the elders, but stayed within earshot as Lilywhisker began her story.

“It was a cold and snowy leaf-bare, and the moor was deserted of prey,” she spoke in a low, foreboding voice. “Heatherstar ordered the tunnelers to go and search for prey underneath our territory.”

WindClan hunts underground, too? Yikes! I hope that never happens to me!

“So four of us went out together. Me, Flowerheart, Sandgorse, and Woolytail.” She worked her paws into the ground. Whiteberry chuckled. “Sandgorse and Woolytail split up from me and Flowerheart, leaving the two of us all alone.”

“Eek!” Tornkit yipped, pressing up close to Lilywhisker. “Being alone is scary!”

Lilywhisker gave the grey kit a comforting lick. “I was with Flowerheart. I wasn’t alone, completely.” She flexed her short claws into the ground, obviously excited to tell the story.

“Don’t be gettin’ the new kit scared of WindClan life,” Whiteberry interrupted as Lilywhisker began to go on.

“WindClan doesn’t even tunnel anymore, he’ll be just fine. Anyways, the tunnel hadn’t been shored yet. It was likely to crumble, and me and Flowerheart knew that, so we went along quickly.” Memory clouded the she-cat’s amber gaze, and Darkkit could almost see the darkness of the tunnel she spoke of. There was urgency in her voice, as if she was speaking of the story; her mind still wrapped around the actual events. “We had caught two rabbits and an expecting vole before the tunnel walls began to crumble. I couldn’t see Flowerheart, but I knew she was ahead of me. She told me to take her rabbit and run as fast as I could; she’d block the tunnel behind me.”

“I don’t like this story!” Mudkit whined, diving under Lilywhisker’s belly. “I don’t want Flowerheart to die!”

Don’t stop! I like it!

“It’s alright, cats die all the time. Sandgorse died in a tunnel collapse too.”

“Who’s Sandgorse?” Tornkit echoed.

“Talltail’s father,” Whiteberry answered plainly, yawning.

“Do you want me to continue the story or not?” Lilywhikser questioned, seeming impatient with the interruptions.

“Yes, please!” Darkkit said before he realized. He clamped his paw over his mouth. “Sorry.”

“It’s just fine, Darkkit,” Lilywhisker assured. “You’re a curious one.” She gave Mudkit a reassuring lick between the ears. “I ran, and earth showered over me. Water, rocks, mud, worms, roots, everything under the sun. We could hear water roaring in our ears, but we could see the tunnel exit just ahead. We raced faster, but then...” her voice trailed away, remembering. “The water had caught up with us, and something slammed against my back. I heard Flowerheart shriek, but then I couldn’t hear her anymore, and I lost consciousness.”

“Wow! WindClan’s dangerous!” Darkkit squeaked. He suddenly wanted to go home again. At least ThunderClan wasn’t going to send him underground.

Lilywhisker laughed. “We don’t tunnel anymore; it’s too dangerous. Sandgorse was killed in another tunnel collapse, and Heatherstar had decided to ban it.”

“Hawkheart saved her life,” Whiteberry added. “He knew she couldn't ever be a warrior again, let alone go tunneling, but he saved her.”

I want to save someone.

Darkkit gasped.

I might have been able to save Swiftbreeze. And Rowankit and Alderkit.

“Well, that’s not gonna happen to me!” Mudkit announced proudly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I’m going to be a warrior! And maybe I’ll die a heroic death, defending WindClan. Like our father!”

Tornkit shrugged. “I’ll just be a normal warrior. I don’t want to die in battle, I want to live a long life and actually meet my kits before I die.”

“Who says you’ll have kits?” Mudkit teased, leaping atop Tornkit’s shoulders and forcing him to the ground. The two brothers began a playful scuffle, and Darkkit sat back and watched.

“What about--ummp--you Darkkit?” Tornkit questioned, while Mudkit sat on top of him. “Get off, you big lump!”

“Uhh, I actually don’t know,” Darkkit admitted. “But if I was in ThunderClan, I’d be a warrior. I think Thrushpelt or Rosetail would’ve been my mentor, Possibly even Thistleclaw. They’re my kin.”

“You have kin here too! Maybe Heatherstar will be your mentor. Although that’s unlikely.” Mudkit cuffed his brother over the ear. “I win.”

Lilywhisker cocked her head. “Heatherstar is your kin? Oh! Yes, Eaglestorm. You must be one of Windflight’s kits!” She answered herself.

“Grandkit, actually,” Darkkit mewed. “He has six kits of his own. Thrushpelt, Dappletail, Tawnyspots--my father, Thistleclaw, Rosetail, and Sweetpaw.”

“That’s good to know,” Whiteberry mewed absently. “How about you go get me a rabbit from the fresh-kill pile? I’m hungry.”

Tornkit shoved Mudkit off his back. “Of course! I’ll race you two!” He set off with a bound, and Mudkit tore after him, but Darkkit followed more slowly. He was still rather weak, and he was hungry.

“Hey, there’s no rabbits here!” Tornkit noted when Darkkit caught up with the two. “There’s a bird and a mouse or something, but not a rabbit!”

“Is it that?” He pointed to a long-eared creature that he hadn’t seen before.

“Oh! Thanks, Darkkit, I didn’t see it!” Tornkit dragged the rabbit off the fresh-kill pile and carried it to Whiteberry. Mudkit stayed behind with Darkkit.

“Do you like it here?”

Do I? That’s a hard question. “I guess. But I miss my family a whole lot.”

“Tell me about them,” Mudkit encouraged. “Please? You talk about them a lot, and I can hear you at night!”

Darkkit sighed. He never wanted to talk about his family openly to these cats, although he had by accident. “Just this once,” he supposed. “I never knew Adderfang, but I knew he was my other grandfather, he was aggressive to other Clans, but loved his kits. He died before my mother knew she was expecting me.” Grief and anger pricked his pelt when he mentioned his mother. “Swiftbreeze was his mate. She’s one of my favorite cats ever. I miss her so much.” Tears pricked his eyes, and a lump rose in his throat. “She loved me so much, and she took care of me, and I love her, and she’s gone now, and I’ll never see her again and I miss her so much and I want her back.” Darkkit realized a flood of tears was flowing down his cheeks, and he was rambling. “I loved her so much and she loved me and I just want her back,” he finished, and felt Mudkit’s paw pat his shoulder.

“Stop, I don’t think it's a good time to talk about this now.” He stared, and Darkkit saw nothing but a dark brown blur. “Is she dead?”

“Yeah,” Darkkit hiccuped and sniffed, wiping his eyes. I miss you so much, why did you have to go? Why did I have to go?

“Darkkit! Are you alright?” Ryestalk suddenly appeared, grabbing Darkkit’s scruff and carrying him into the nursery. “What happened, did you hurt yourself?”

“No,” Darkkit moaned.

Realization sparked in her eyes. “Do you miss your family? Does it hurt to speak of them?”

“Yes,” Darkkit gulped down another sob. “It makes my belly and heart hurt.”

“Come get something to eat, and then try to take a nap. You’ll feel so much better.” Ryestalk shifted into her side, revealing her pale belly. 

Darkkit felt hungry, and he crawled close to suckle, feeling relieved he didn’t have to worry about eating as much as possible, but being quick at the same time. Ryestalk fed him twice during the day, and twice at night, and she never kicked him away when it took him too long. She didn’t even wince when Darkkit’s claws poked at her soft belly.

“You’re starting to look like a kit!” She mewed when Darkkit finished. “You have a round, plump belly all the time now!”

“But my ribs still show,” Darkkit pointed out.

“They’ll smooth out soon. Roll over, sweet.”

Darkkit rolled onto his back, and Ryestalk lapped at his lower belly. “Oh, look at that!” She mewed suddenly.

“What?” Darkkit craned his head to see. Ryestalk was pointing at a patch of ginger fur on his belly. “Oh, that? Windflight says I got it from my father.”

Ryestalk bumped her nose with his. “It’s a special mark, I’m surprised I haven’t noticed it yet.”

Darkkit shrugged. “Redtail said I looked extra handsome with it once, and I don’t know what he meant. No one can see it unless I roll over!”

Which I don’t do, usually. I don’t trust these cats. Except for Ryestalk, of course. She can see my belly!

Ryestalk finished stimulating Darkkit and nudged him closer to her head. “There’s a Singing tonight. Would you like to come?”

“Singing?”

“We’re singing to the moon and stars tonight. We sang to welcome you when you first arrived, but you were already fast asleep.” Ryestalk closed her eyes. “Shame, really, you would have enjoyed it.”

“Stonepelt sang sometimes.” Darkkit felt his eyes droop with exhaustion. “About kitting and rain. But I don’t know how to sing.”

“We can teach you.”

Darkkit yawned. “Maybe next time; I’m tired.”

“Okay, next time.” She licked his eyes closed. He was just about to drift away when he heard her whisper; “I love you.”

Surprised, he stiffened. But he knew exactly what to say, and he believed it wholeheartedly. “I love you too, Mama.”

Chapter Text

Darkkit woke up early the next morning. He had slept long, and was feeling restless. Mudkit was splayed out on Ryestalk’s flank, Tornkit leaning against her belly. Ryestalk was wrapped around all three of them, snoring quietly. Darkkit wiggled from her grasp, careful not to wake her. He looked to Meadowslip and Hickorynose’s nest, and saw Pigeonkit and Sorrelkit, but no Hopkit. Darkkit assumed the flail-footed kit had gotten sick again and spent the night in the medicine den.

Outside, the sun had barely started to rise. Darkkit gasped. The sky was covered in ripley clouds, tinged with gold and pink. Behind them, the sky was brilliant red, with dark blue dotted with a few StarClan warriors. The ground was a dark silhouette in the little light given. “Woah, the trees covered all of this in ThunderClan!”

But, awake now, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to awaken the warriors, who were all fast asleep in their nests, their flanks rising up and down with each inhale. I’ll just explore.

But he heard a sad whisper from the medicine den. “He lived a very long life, keeping his clanmates safe and healing them. He’s in StarClan now.”

Barkface.

A low whine sounded afterwards. “But he’s not that old!”

Hopkit.

Darkkit hurried to the medicine den. Something was wrong with Hawkheart, and he could pick up the scent of death. He’d smelt that before, on Swiftbreeze, Alderkit, and Rowankit.

When he entered, Barkface was leaning over a dark grey-brown lump of fur, looking lost and distressed. Hopkit was sobbing over the fur, his jaws parting in quiet wails.

“Is Hawkheart dead?” He blurted, and both cat’s heads snapped up in surprise.

“Darkkit! You’re not supposed to be awake!” Barkface scolded, but there was no real anger in his voice, only grief.

“He’s dead!” Hopkit moaned, leaning into Hawkheart’s fur. “What if StarClan doesn’t take him?”

Why wouldn’t they? I didn’t know him well, but I know he’s not an evil cat!

Barkface’s eyes darkened. “Moonflower destroyed the medicine. He had every right to kill her.”

Moonflower? I’ve heard that name before! Hawkheart killed her?

Hopkit hiccuped again. “You took such good care of me when I was sick. You were like a father to me. May you find peace and warmth.”

“ In StarClan,” Barkface added bitterly.

Darkkit stepped up to the corpse. Hawkheart didn’t look like he’d suffered through his death; unlike Swiftbreeze. His eyes were closed peacefully, and he was smiling. He looks so happy.

“He was pretty out of it last night. So confused,” Barkface murmured, stroking the dead cat’s face. “I sat with him and talked to him all night, and he drifted in and out of sleep. Heatherstar was here for a while, but I ordered her to rest.”

“Will we sing for him?” Hopkit asked, scooting closer to the other two cats.

“Of course.” The brown tom rested his muzzle on Hawkheart’s neck. “I’m not ready to be WindClan’s only medicine cat. I don’t want to be alone.”

Feeling surged in Darkkit’s chest. He could help. He could be there for the sick and injured cats. He could save someone’s life.

Should I ask to become Barkface’s apprentice?

No, now is not the time.

Hopkit curled around the grieving medicine cat, licking at his ears. Barkface’s short tail thumped in content. Darkkit took a step back. Hawkheart was his kin, but he didn’t know that until yesterday, and he had never been close to the old cat.

“He was doing so much better! He wasn’t complaining of pain! He was walking; albeit with a limp, but walking! Eating and keeping it down! What happened?” Barkface’s mew was full of pain, his voice choked. His eyes were rheumy with sorrow, but he did not cry.

“Was he in pain last night?” Hopkit inquired.

“A few times, yes, he cried out in pain. I gave him a poppyseed to ease his passing.” Barkface seemed distracted. He was staring at a faraway object, something no other cat but he could see. Darkkit could feel his pain, ebbing off him in waves. Before he realized what he was doing, he had crawled in between the three cats, nuzzling close to them.

“Don’t be sad, he’s in StarClan now.” Darkkit tried to offer comfort, the way Swiftbreeze had offered comfort to Redtail when his kits died.

“If only we knew that for sure,” Barkface whimpered, nuzzling closer to the dead cat’s body, which had gone stiff and cold. The scent of death reeked from Hawkheart, sour and sharp.

Darkkit snuggled closer to Barkface as the brown tom whimpered, occasionally saying he wasn’t ready, and whimpered more. He stayed as still and quiet as he could, out of respect for the grieving tom. Hopkit gave Darkkit a look of gratitude.

After what seemed like moons, Barkface fell asleep. However, it wasn't peaceful. He would twitch, murmuring about ShadowClan.

“Dirty ShadowClan...killed my brother...killed my mother.”

Hopkit stiffened at the remarks. “He shouldn’t say that,” he whispered. “He’s a medicine cat.”

He’s got a point.

But if ShadowClan killed my mother, would I react like this?

“Hawkheart!”

Heatherstar. The grey-pink cat scrambled into the den, blue eyes wide in sorrow.

“Hush!” Hopkit snapped. “You’ll wake Barkface!” The apprentice ran his swollen paw along the medicine cat’s spine. “He’s been up all night, and I finally got him to sleep.”

Heatherstar dropped her voice and creeped closer to her brother. “Oh, Hawkheart, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry for everything.” She laid her head down on Hawkheart’s back, licking her dead brother’s fur slowly.

Darkkit began to step out. He should give Heatherstar privacy to grieve. Hopkit followed him out. “I can’t believe Hawkheart’s gone. He just seemed like one of those cats that just don’t die, no matter how old they get.”

Hopkit’s words were snatched away by the wind. They seemed to echo around the camp, and the awakening cats lifted their heads in surprise. “Hawkheart’s dead?” A grey and white tom Darkkit didn’t know asked in shock. “He was doing great last night, how is he dead?”

“I don’t know, Aspenfall!” Hopkit snapped back, voice full of grief. “He died just before dawn.”

Aspenfall dipped his head in deep respect. “Hawkheart was a noble cat, and StarClan will have a place for him.”

Why is everyone so worried about Hawkheart not being accepted into StarClan? From what I heard, Moonflower was in the wrong.

Darkkit looked to the sky, which had long since grown bright. Clouds were white and fluffy above his head, the sky was a beautiful blue. Birds flitted across, chirping cheerfully, as if the prospect of Hawkheart’s death didn’t bother them one bit.

“We’ll sing for him now,” Stagleap muttered. 

The brown tom Darkkit knew as Ryestalk’s brother was not friendly to Darkkit. He shot accusing glares at the little cat when he had a chance, and he heard him mutter about ThunderClan cats being too cocky and “harming innocent apprentices.”

But why was he mad at Darkkit?

Sorrelkit trotted up to her brother Deadpaw. “I’m so sorry. I know you two were close. But you’ll see him again.”

She was trying to sound hopeful, but the whole Clan was worried. Darkkit wanted to ask the story, but he didn’t think this was the time.

But I think Stonepelt told the story before, about where he got that nasty scar on his shoulder. I must’ve fallen asleep.

He felt teeth meet his scruff and was lifted up into the air. Ryestalk was carrying him away from the medicine den entrance, and she set him down in the clearing. “You had me worried when you left. I didn’t see you when I woke up.” She closed her eyes and hung her head. “I thought that you’d decided to sneak off to ThunderClan.”

Darkkit was suddenly overwhelmed with shock. He would never return there, at least not while he still needed milk to survive. In ThunderClan, there was always a question of whether I’d live or die. Here, I know I’m going to live.

Plus, Ryestalk is very, very nice to me. Mudkit and Tornkit are fun to play with. Most cats are genuinely interested in my wellbeing. Emotional as well as physical.

He turned to face Ryestalk, but let his voice be heard for all the cats. “Many of you think I am still loyal to ThunderClan.” Several cats turned their eyes towards him, and Darkkit felt his pelt grow hot. But he needed to continue if he wanted WindClan to trust him. “In some ways, I will be. Redtail was my foster father, and I will never forget him.” He saw Stagleap bristle at the mention of Redtail. Who made dirt in his fresh-kill? “But, in ThunderClan, I wasn’t sure if I was going to live or die. I wasn’t sure that I would be safe from starvation, dehydration, or even foxes.” He looked at Ryestalk. Thanks to this queen, he had a chance. “I am ready to be a loyal WindClan cat, and serve towards the very end. ThunderClan is not my Clan, not anymore.” He was shaking. The sounds of the WindClan warriors around him, murmuring and whispering, was scaring him. He didn’t like attention, but he needed to say this. “I am now a full WindClan cat, in my heart and in my mind. Receive me as you might; but I know who I am.”

He sat back down, breathing hard. I can’t believe I just said all that.

An older tom gazed at him in wonder. “I was not expecting to hear that from a little kit like yourself,” he mewed, clearly impressed.

Ryestalk licked her kit proudly. “He’s a smart one, I noticed that since the very first moment he was dropped onto my nest.” She nuzzled into him, purring. Darkkit smiled, proud of himself.

“He seems like that kind of kit that would know a lot,” Doespring commented. “You’re raising a fine one there, Ryestalk.”

“Thank you,” Ryestalk purred at her sister, but didn’t stop licking Darkkit. “The Clan’s lucky to have you.”

At that moment, Heatherstar walked dejectedly out of the medicine den. Her pinkish pelt was dull and patchy, and Darkkit realized she was growing old as well. The WindClan leader halted as Talltail whispered something into her ear. She considered a moment, and then nodded. The Clan watched as she leaped onto the Tallrock, regaly, as if the grief of losing her brother didn’t weigh on her mind; it was present in her eyes. “All cats old enough to catch their own prey, join here beneath Tallrock for a Clan meeting.”

She had little reason to summon the Clan, most of the cats were already outside. Mudkit and Tornkit bounded out of the nursery, yipping excitedly when they saw Darkkit. “You’re here! Mama was so worried! Don’t scare her like that again!” Tornkit scolded, bowling Darkkit over as he skidded to a stop at Ryestalk’s paws.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised again, snuggling into Ryestalk.

“We will be singing two songs this morning,” Heatherstar announced, her voice heavy. “One for Hawkheart, and one for Darkkit. He will be fully welcomed as a WindClan cat today.”

Didn’t Ryestalk say WindClan sang for me the night I arrived?

Mudkit gaped at Darkkit. “ You never told us that! ” His face twisted in jealousy. “Lucky ducky!”

Is this some sort of big honor?  He tilted his head back to look at Ryestalk, who was laughing at her two other kits. “Sweets, you were sung for, when you were born. But you were deaf then, nor could you have possibly remembered.”

Heatherstar had taken her place at the height of the rock, bowing her body deeply. As leader, she would sing the first note. She bowed her head and opened her mouth. An eerie wail echoed through the clearing, the vibrations racing across the ground, winding around Darkkit’s legs. He shivered.

The rest of the Clan joined in, lifting their heads to the sky. The sound of their song carried high up into the sky, shaking the earth, the force of their grief slicing the air. It was beautiful, but loud! Darkkit flattened his ears and saw his adopted brothers were doing the same.

It’s loud, Tornkit mouthed to the other kits. Both Darkkit and Mudkit nodded their agreement.

Darkkit closed his eyes and listened intently. He imagined the cold, rainy day Redtail had kitted, and lost the kits. He stood in the clearing, rain dripping down his eplt and filling his eyes. Mud pooled up in large, cold puddles in the clearing, the sky was dark as his own dark stripes; with a thick, foggy mist pressing in on all sides of him. He pressed his eyelids tighter, trying to keep the unpleasant image from his head. But the song brought it on.

Thin, leaf-bare trees clawed the dark sky, the little leaves still left shivering in the wind and rain. The fallen leaves left a thick carpeting on the forest floor, so deep that Darkkit could almost feel himself shrinking. I didn’t know songs had this power! This is sort of scary!

Suddenly, the song ended. The cats stopped singing, and Darkkit opened his eyes. The entirety of WindClan had their heads hanging low, their tails curled around their paws; or around the cat next to them. It was so quiet in camp, Darkkit could hear the wind rocking the heather, whooshing through the gorse, stirring up dusty spirals.  Darkkit quickly dropped his head and curled his tail like the other cats. He stared up at Heatherstar, waiting for permission to move. She let out one more low note, and the cats resumed their more relaxed poses, but stayed silent as the note echoed into the sky and was snatched away by the wind.

“‘Hawkheart was a good medicine cat,’ as StarClan says.” Heatherstar smiled in relief as she spoke. StarClan spoke that quickly?  “He now basks in the sun with all the rabbits he can eat, free of the mysterious illness that took him.”

The warriors and elders murmured in relief. “Thank you, StarClan!” Hopkit called out.

“He was not sent to eternal punishment for protecting his Clan,” Whiteberry sighed, smiling happily.

Heatherstar raised her plumy tail in signal for silence. “StarClan must be thanked greatly tonight, at the Singing. They have shown mercy on a cat who needed it.” She turned her intense blue eyes. “And we have a more happy song for our little one here,” Heatherstar purred.

Darkkit sat up pridefully, Mudkit and Tornkit shuffling beside him. Ryestalk nosed him forward.

“I still don’t know how to sing,” Darkkit protested.

“You just listen, hon’,” Ryestalk answered with her eyes shining with pride.

The eyes of the many WindClan cats turn on Darkkit. Wow, so this is what attention is like! ThunderClan didn’t give me much of it!

Again, Heatherstar rang her voice out into the clearing, and the others followed along with equally nice notes.

This song didn’t bring any unpleasant thoughts into his mind. Instead, he was soaring in the clouds, like a bird, or a leaf.

“Darkkit! Darkkit!” Came a chorus of cats cheering his name aloud, smiling brightly, bouncing happily. Then Morningpaw jumped on her paws, nudging her sister, who looked overwhelmed. Whiteberry smiled approvingly, Lilywhisker right beside him.

The Clan grew quiet again, as Heatherstar raised her tail again. “Darkkit, we welcome you to WindClan. I hope you find a purpose here, and can forget your traumatic past.”

Anything for you, Heatherstar. “ Ryestalk, you said that I was sung to when I came here, why am I being sung to again?”

Ryestalk purred affectionately. “It was the song we used to sing to the visitors that came to WindClan--storytime later. We weren’t going to welcome you as a full member until you were ready.”

And I am. WindClan, let me show you who I am.

Chapter Text

“So, are you ready?” Ryestalk asked, licking down a stubborn tuft of fur on Darkkit’s shoulder.

Darkkit took a deep breath. “I’m a little nervous.”

Mudkit huffed. “You’re so lucky. I have to wait another half-moon to be an apprentice.”

Time had flown by quickly. Darkkit felt like it was only yesterday since he had been brought into WindClan as a tiny kit. He was now at shoulder height with Ryestalk, and had the pelt of a warrior, instead of the fluffy kit fur. However, he was much more muscular than the other cats, partly from being born with mostly ThunderClan blood. He hadn’t lost his skinniness, either. He was still long-limbed and flat-bellied. But he was fine with that.

“It’s not that far away, I can wait,” Tornkit said. He got to his paws and gave Darkkit a nuzzle. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll teach you everything I learn!” But he doesn't know that I’m not being apprenticed as a warrior.

Darkkit had expressed his interest in being a medicine cat to Barkface. He and the new WindClan leader, Tallstar, had talked it over and decided that Barkface would do good with an apprentice. Heatherstar had died only a moon after her brother, succumbing to a cough that Barkface couldn’t cure.

He felt a sudden tug at his back. “Ow! Mama! That was a hard yank! ”

Ryestalk glanced up. “You had a mat in your fur. I want you to glow in that sunlight out there, so you must be cleaned.”

Darkkit groaned, Mudkit and Tornkit giggled. “What if I was to mess up his fur?” Mudkit teased.

“ Don’t! ” Ryestalk snapped. Darkkit rolled his eyes. As much as he loved Ryestalk, she was fussy as a mother lapwing sometimes.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, join here beneath the Tallrock for a Clan meeting!”

Saved! He tore away from his mother’s tongue, moths fluttering around in his belly. Nervous, yet excited. I can finally prove I am a full WindClan cat!

Tallstar stood on the Tallrock. He had chosen his sister, Wrenflight, as his deputy. Both cats sat proudly, smiling down at Darkkit with approval shining in their amber eyes.

The Clan had also gathered around, parting in the middle, where Darkkit would stand. He held his head and tail high and took his place, cats smiling with encouragement.

Ryestalk followed Darkkit out, Mudkit and Tornkit right behind. Both of them looked jealous. Mudkit huffed impatiently and Tornkit looked on at the Tallrock with envy.

“Darkkit,” Tallstar’s voice rang out, reaching deep into Darkkit’s mind. He sat alert, quivering with anticipation and apprehension. “You have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to become an apprentice. From now on, until you receive your full name, you will be known as Dark paw. Your mentor will be Barkface. You will receive your official medicine cat naming ceremony at the half-moon gathering.”

Darkpaw shook. Cats cheered his name, Ryestalk cheering the loudest. Barkface bent lower to touch noses with Darkpaw, his black ears twitching with excitement.

“Darkpaw! Darkpaw!”

Darkpaw! I’m Darkpaw!

Tornkit and Mudkit stared in shock. “A medicine cat?” Tornkit mewed. “That’s so cool!”

“Oh, I’m so proud of you! You’ve grown so big!” Ryestalk cooed, immediately bowling Darkpaw over with a doting bout of licking. “I can’t believe you were once the size of a little moorhen chick!”

Darkpaw couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Although he loved Ryestalk, she exasperated him sometimes.

But she’s a million times better than Willowpelt ever was.

As the Clan died down, Barkface gave his new apprentice a smile. “Warrior apprentices usually go for a tour of the territory on their first day, so I’ll take you herb gathering.”

Darkpaw already had been out of the camp, but it was so long ago, he didn’t remember any of it. “Yes!”

Barkface led the way out of camp, and Darkpaw shot a goodbye to his mother and brothers. Both kits looked jealous as they watched their scarcely older brother prance out of camp and up onto the moor.

The grass wasn’t nearly as tall as he’d remembered, but yet again, he was barely older than a moon the last time he’d climbed through these parts.

“What herbs are you getting?” Darkpaw quired.

“ We are gathering tansy. In the wake of leaf-fall, the colds will start coming along.”

“So,” Darkpaw concluded, “Tansy helps with colds?”

“Correct,” Barkface replied. “Colds, coughs, sore throats. What do you think it looks like?”

Darkpaw furrowed his brow in concentration. “Is it a root?”

“No, a flower,” corrected Barkface. He stopped and yanked up a stalk of yellow-topped plants. “See these flowers? This is what we're after.”

The flowers were bunched together in tight bulbous bundles at the top of the high stem. “Oh.”

Barkface waved out a paw to show a small scatter of yellow speckles across the area. “Always leave more than you think you should leave. We don't want to risk destroying this patch.”

Darkpaw looked to Barkface, who sent him off with a flick of his paw. Darkpaw bounded into the high meadow, nipping off stalks of tansy as he went. “Here's a good, heavy stalk, and here's one with lots of bright flowers,” he muttered to himself.

After some time gathering, he returned to Barkface. Barkface pawed through each bundle and nodded. “This is a good arrangement. Nicely done!”

Darkpaw beamed. “What’s next?”

Barkface gathered all the tansy in his jaws. “Cobweb collection,” he mewed through a jaw full of herbs. “You know what that looks like, yes?”

Darkpaw nodded, remembering the time he and his brothers had found a large spider and its web outside the nursery. The strands were sticky and unpleasant to the touch, and when the spider came out, the three had screamed and ran away. The beady little eyes and many legs weren't a pretty sight. He wasn't looking forward to touching the stuff again, or worse, seeing another spider.

Barkface instructed Darkpaw to look close to the ground, and under rocks.

“We use cobwebs to hold poultices still and staunch bleeding, but we need a lot, as the web is very thin,” Barkface continued.

Darkpaw nodded, sniffing at a web spanning across a bush of spiky grass. “How do I grab it?”

“With your tail, unless you're me.” His mentor spun around and waved his short, tufted tail at his apprentice. “I usually go and find a stick, but that means I can't carry much herbs home.”

Darkpaw stuck his tail into the webbing and swished it about until it had clumped into a cluster on his tail. He could feel the breeze ruffle and snag it, but it was more pleasant to feel it on his tail than his face. “How much do I have to learn?”

“Oh, we've barely scratched the surface,” Barkface laughed. “There's so much that goes into this craft, physically and spiritually, that makes us as well respected and trusted among both our Clan and the others.”

Darkpaw nodded thoughtfully. He and Barkface returned to camp, with the younger cat feeling accomplished and important in spite of learning only one herb.

In the medicine den, Barkface told Darkpaw to find the cobweb collection and scrape his tail clean. “Then, you can make your nest.”

“My very own nest?”

“Yes, your very own.”

Barkface’s nest was towards the front half of the den, and a gathering of moss lay on the opposite side. “You'll make yours there. We sleep close to the entrance in case there’s an emergency, and we need to move quickly. As cats come and go, we’ll be making their nests accordingly.”

Darkpaw set to preparing his nest straight away, pushing the moss into a plush pile and circling to lay it flat. It was small, fit for a brand new apprentice. No bigger than Barkface’s nest, the short and small cat needed little space.

Darkpaw spent the rest of the day in awe at the several collections of bright flowers and strong scented herbs that sat in hardened clay and mud of the vast, open den. “When WindClan was still young, and tunneling was only just beginning, medicine cats hollowed out this den from the camp’s wall. It has been here for countless generations, never to falter nor collapse, and keeping our herbs safe.”

“Wow,” Darkpaw breathed, running his paws against the rough, dusty surface.

“Each of the four Clans have our own set of cultures, skills, and traditions that make us unique,” Barkface explained as the two stripped the tansy buds from the stalks. “WindClan is fast and agile, and we are regarded as the closest to StarClan, as we bathe in the light of the stars and moon as we sleep. Well, the warriors do, at least.”

Darkpaw nodded, enthused. “What else?”

“We are the best at catching rabbits, and we can survive longer without water than the others.”

“Wow,” Darkpaw said again. “And are we the only ones who still sing?”

“Yes,” Barkface replied. “I am not sure why the other Clans stopped. It’s a leftover tradition from the Clans’ mountainous roots.”

“What about the other Clans?”

Barkface purred, “RiverClan cats, of course, swim very well, and have oily coats to protect them from the water, as well as webbed paws. ShadowClan cats are great hiders and very cunning, making them hard to defeat in battle, as well as having a stronger stomach from the harsh meals of rats and amphibians. They also take in the most rogues of the Clans.”

“What’s an amphibian?”

“Frogs, newts, slippery things like that,” he explained. “And you’d know of ThunderClan. Similar to ShadowClan, minus the odd diet. Perhaps the best birders of the forest.” 

Darkpaw nodded, remembering the assortments of the feathered creatures seen on the tempting fresh-kill pile to a hungry kit. Perhaps it was the ThunderClan blood in him that made his favorite prey lapwing now. The bird had a sweet flesh that was soft and tender, and it was the second thing he tried when he was weaned.

The apprentice somewhat wished a cat would get injured so he’d get to jump right into work but the daily duties of the Clan were easy and light for the day, and Darkpaw found himself cooped inside the medicine den under the cooling leaf-fall air. He didn’t particularly mind, but Barkface more or less poured information hard into his apprentice.

“Wait wait wait, you’re going too fast,” Darkpaw mewed.

“Don’t worry about retaining anything now. This is merely an overview,” he explained.

Still, with the endless input of information; topical herbs, ingestible herbs, dosages, uses, and alternative treatments, Darkpaw felt overwhelmed with information. As he settled into his nest late that night, with no one to kick his face in the middle of the night or push him out, he sighed heavily.

This stuff sure seems like hard work.

But he felt no dread of upcoming lessons. It’s a respected craft, and will take time and patience. I can do this.

The tower of bones scratched the sky, rising high and menacing.

But it couldn’t compare to the satisfaction of seeing the dead cat at the paws of Darkstripe.

Well, maybe he hadn’t succeeded in Stonefur’s death as much as he had wanted. Blackfoot had taken on the bulk of the work.

And yet, it was enough.

The wretched tom looked thinner than ever, but he had put up a good fight. He was fighting for his life, but Darkstripe only had the fire of revenge in his belly. It wasn’t enough to take down the former deputy alone.

Looking at the half-Clan scum, Darkstripe felt alive. Yes, Willowpelt would be devastated. Her half-Clan mate, her half-Clan kits, and half-Clan grandkids.

Yes, she hated me more than she cared for the code.

The remaining traitors were escorted from the clearing, the look of horror dawning in their eyes, knowing they’d meet the same fate.

Greystripe’s kits stared at their half-uncle. What had gone wrong to lead to this horrendous outcome?

Tigerstar ordered the removal of Stonefur’s bones. As the two killers ripped through his flesh, Darkstripe wished he was still alive, just so the traitor could feel the burn and agony of the flesh and bone ripping from his body.

At one point, seasons ago, Darkstripe would’ve felt sorry for this tom. But the birth of Greystripe changed everything. 

How dare she have another kit?

She couldn’t care less what happened to her first.

No matter, I have killed her mate, and almost got her precious daughter.

And Tigerstar loves me again.

Yes. Things are going alright now.

Darkpaw flashed awake, stomach lurching. The nightmare was quickly leaving his mind, but the haunting scene of paws that looked eerily similar to his own tearing at the inside of another cat wouldn’t leave soon.

Maybe it was a dream from StarClan?

No. Probably just another bad dream,

Yet, he couldn’t shake the visceral feeling of sickening satisfaction of a terrible deed gone well.

And who was he trying to hurt? I can’t remember.

Oh well. Nightmares. They’re not meant to make sense.

Silly dreams.

Chapter Text

Barkface shook out his brown fur, the stump of his tail raised in the air. “Ready to go face StarClan?”

Darkpaw bounded forward, leaping up into the dark, star-dappled sky. “Very ready! I can’t wait!”

He had been a medicine cat apprentice for a quarter-moon now, and gained a little thrust feather. “You get one feather as an apprentice, I’ll give you your moth wing after we return home tonight,” Barkface explained, “It’s to signify StarClan’s approval of you. When you get your full name, you’ll receive your second feather, and your last feather when you become a senior medicine cat. I will give it to you if I am still alive, if not, the oldest medicine cat will.”

The sap that held the decorations in place was a bit annoying at first, but Darkpaw felt pride in the cute brown feather at his shoulders, showing his dedication to healing.

“When we get to the moonstone, all you need to do is press your nose against it and go to sleep. StarClan may send a cat, or a dream. It’s their choice.”

Darkpaw quivered with anticipation. “I can’t wait! I’ll see Spottedleaf and meet the other medicine cats, and maybe I can meet my father in StarClan!” He yipped in glee, dancing around the stretch of moorland. Heather passed across his nose, and he breathed in its sweet scent. Barkface sighed.

“Featherwhisker will be there too, so there’s going to be a lot to explain,” Barkface reminded Darkpaw.

“I know, I know.” This was the fifth time Barkface had told him. “He’ll understand everything.”

But what if ThunderClan tries to steal me back? I can’t go back there, no matter how much some cats mean to me.

“One other thing,” Barkface added. “We’ll be crossing the Thunderpath. Cats have died there, so you must stick close and cross only when I tell you.” He sounded tense and worried, and Darkpaw guessed this path was full of bad memories.

“What’s a Thunderpath?”

Barkface sighed. “It’s a place where Twoleg monsters walk. The monsters are very, very dangerous, so you must listen to me, and only me, when we cross.”

“Alright,” Darkpaw agreed. “Who are the other medicine cats?”

“Well,” Barkface passed in front of Darkpaw and sat down, beckoning Darkpaw to the same. “From ShadowClan we have Yellowfang and her apprentice Runningpaw. Runningpaw should be getting his name soon. And there’s Mudfur and Brambleberry from RiverClan. Spottedleaf and Featherwhisker from ThunderClan, as you know.” He parted his jaws to scent the air. “I smell ThunderClan now.”

Darkpaw’s heart leapt. “Is Spottedleaf there?” He asked, although he knew it was a stupid question.

Barkface nodded. “I can see them right ahead.”

Darkpaw tried to stay seated, but his rump did not want to stay put. He kept standing up and peeking over Barkface’s shoulder. The wind was blowing towards them, there was no way Spottedleaf could scent him out.

“Barkface! Do you have an apprentice?” It was Spottedleaf. “They’re jumping about like a little kit over there!”

Darkpaw couldn’t sit still anymore. He leapt up and bounded straight towards the sound of his kin. “Spottedleaf!”

Spottedleaf gasped in shock as Darkpaw barrelled into her. “Oh StarClan, is this our little Darkkit?”

Featherwhisker looked totally discombobulated. Darkpaw nodded vigorously. “But I’m Darkpaw now, and Barkface’s apprentice!” He boasted proudly, puffing out his chest.

Featherwhisker cleared his throat. “Care to explain why he isn’t dead? Or am I seeing things.” The old medicine cat rubbed at his bright eyes, as if he was trying to rub away sleep.

Barkface sided up next to the three cats. “His family took him away by night, and told the Clan he’d been stolen away by a fox,” the medicine cat explained.

Featherwhisker’s eyes glowed. “We must tell the Clan right away! They’ll be so relieved!

“No!” Darkpaw and Spottedleaf hissed as one. 

Featherwhisker cocked his head. “Don’t you want to go home?”

Spottedleaf started to speak, but Darkpaw shot her a look, telling her to keep quiet. ThunderClan is not my home. Never was, never will be. “I can’t. I belong with WindClan, I made a promise, and I have sworn my loyalty. ThunderClan didn’t care about me, and did little to stop Willowpelt’s abusive behavior towards me. Sure, they said ‘Willowpelt must be stopped!’ but never did they do anything. I cannot live in a Clan like that.” 

When Featherwhisker looked disappointed, he patted the old cat’s shoulder. “I know you tried your best, but this is my own path, that I have chosen on my own.”

Featherwhisker sighed. “I can’t argue with that. I just don’t want you to be unhappy.”

Barkface glanced at his apprentice, a questioning look in his eyes. “I don’t think he’s unhappy.”

Darkpaw shook his head. “I’m not unhappy at all. Barkface is a great mentor! He teaches me so much, and even though it’s a bit confusing, he doesn’t go so fast I can’t keep up!”

Spottedleaf smiled and licked the apprentice’s head. “What have you learned?”

“A lot!” Darkpaw yapped. “I know what lavender and marigold and borage leaves do. I’ve brought down Whiteberry’s fever, and treated a scratch on Ashpaw’s shoulder.” He sat up proudly beside his mentor, who stared down at his paws, shyly, from the praise.

“And apprentice will do you good, Barkface,” Featherwhisker meowed. “Keep your mind off things.”

Barkface bristled. “I’m not angry anymore; StarClan accepted Hawkheart. I told you this already.”

Darkpaw nuzzled deeper into Spottedleaf’s chest fur, breathing in the scent he’d known since his kithood. I didn’t know how much I missed my family.

“Where’s ShadowClan and RiverClan?” Barkface changed the subject.

Featherwhisker looked around the darkening plain. “We didn’t see anyone on our side, maybe they’ve gone ahead.”

Barkface turned away and looked towards Highstones. “Let’s just go, they’re either already there or are still coming.”

Darkpaw pulled away from Spottedleaf and trailed obediently after his mentor. Barkface kept him to the far side of the thunderpath, and pressed up against him when monsters rumbled past. Although he was glad for the protection, he was eager to explore. This was his first time out of the territory, and there were thousands of new scents. Undiscovered herbs, twolegs, dogs, twoleg horses, and of course rogue and loner cats. There was also the reek of the thunderpath which tickled Darkpaw’s nose and made him cough.

“There’s ShadowClan,” Featherwhisker pointed out when the four cats had been walking for a while.

Darkpaw raised his head to look over Barkface’s shoulder. A ragged, thick-furred, grey she-cat was standing on the other side of the thunderpath, bright orange eyes gleaming in the dark. A smaller tom, white with grey patches, stood next to her, nose in the air, sniffing.

“Let’s cross now,” Barkface advised. “So they don’t need to cross a second time.”

The other cats nodded. Barkface guided Darkpaw to the edge of the path, sniffed precariously. “He’ll be fine,” Spottedleaf said. “He’s a smart cat.”

Barkface still didn’t look convinced. Darkpaw couldn’t see why he was so cautious, the path looked safe enough. But he didn’t want to worry his mentor, who was scanning the edge of the path, searching for oncoming monsters.

“Stay with me,” Barkface ordered sternly.

“Why are you so afraid?” Featherwhisker inquired.

Barkface held back so he could answer. “I happened to be there when the ThunderClan she-cat, Snowfur, was hit.”

Darkpaw gasped. “Someone was hit?” He hid behind his mentor. “I’m scared!”

“And you should be!”

Spottedleaf ran her tail tip along Darkpaw’s spine. “Listen to Barkface. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

Darkpaw pressed next to Barkface, who stepped onto the path. “There are no monsters. Run now, fast as you can, and don’t look back.”

Quivering, he bunched up and sprang out onto the path. Hard black stones scraped his claws as he sprinted across, leaping into a set of bushes. He panted and shook off the leaves and twig, and crawled onto the other side of the path. Barkface and the ThunderClan cats were right behind him.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Barkface panted, the stump of his tail waving. “Let’s go say hi to ShadowClan.”

The ShadowClan cats had waited for them, and the younger cat had already caught up. “Who’s this new cat? He smells like WindClan, but is too muscly! Is he half-Clan? I’ve never met a half-Clan cat before!”

The ShadowClan apprentice looked sick. His nose was running, and his eyes were rhemy and reddish. He sniffed at Darkpaw’s coat, and Darkpaw stepped away.

“Runningpaw! Don’t be so intimidating!” Scolded the grey cat. She cuffed her apprentice over his ear, gently. “I’m sorry, my apprentice here seems to have forgotten his manners.”

Runningpaw hung his head.

“Greetings, Yellowfang,” Barkface rubbed her muzzle affectionately. “I’ve brought my new apprentice here, his name is Darkpaw.”

Yellowfang’s expression turned into one of confusion. “He looks like that dead ThunderClan kit.”

Darkpaw decided to fill in the story. “Because I am, but I’m a WindClan cat now.”

Runningpaw smiled. “So you are half-Clan!”

“I have some WindClan blood too, yes,” Darkpaw answered.

Featherwhisker passed in front of the group. “We’re losing moonlight here, let’s get moving.”

Darkpaw stood up and trotted after the grey cat. Runningpaw bounded alongside him. “I’ll be getting my name soon, but I already know what it’s gonna be; Runningnose. I’ve a cold and I can’t really cure it.”

As long as you don’t pass it to me.

“It’s not contagious,” Runningpaw said, as if Darkpaw had spoken aloud. “It's just a nuisance, really. Sometimes it makes my eyes hurt but I get some celidane poultice on and rest for a while. It really helps. How long have you been a medicine cat apprentice? Did you start off as a warrior? Yellowfang was a warrior, but then she decided to become a medicine cat. I’ve always wanted to be a medicine cat, the moment my eyes opened!”

He talks so much. “I’ve been an apprentice for a quarter-moon, and I’ve always really wanted to be a medicine cat. I wanted to save lives, because there’s cats that I’ve lost that I loved.”

Runningpaw’s eyes glowed. “That’s so sad! I haven't really lost anyone, if anything, not many cats love me. My siblings think I’m weak and my mother never wanted kits and-”

He’s just like me! “My mother didn’t want me either, and that’s why I’m in WindClan. She didn’t feed me at all.”

Runningpaw’s jaw dropped open. “At least my mother fed me. She sort of started to care when she had to foster Brokentail. StarClan, she was awful to Brokentail. But I was still the weak, sick thing without much use. But I know my father loves me. What about your father?”

“He’s dead, died before I was kitted. But I know he would’ve loved me. Willowpelt and him weren’t mates, he just was asking to have kits without a mate, and Willowpelt sort of stepped in, but she didn’t know what to do with me when she actually got pregnant.”

“That’s sad. Does WindClan treat you well?”

“Yes, of course! I got a mother who fed me and two brothers who I love to play with. I’m a little older than them, so they’re still in the nursery.”

Barkface smiled at his apprentice. “You’re not as shy as I thought initially.”

I just found someone I can relate to.

“Look! There’s Mudfur!

A long-furred brown tom was sitting on a rough rock. “I got an earlier start, felt like exploring around a little.”

The other cats gathered around the RiverClan cat, brushing their fur against his. Despite his aged appearance, Darklily noticed his third feather was gone. 

“Where’s Brambleberry?” Featherwhisker wondered, scanning the rocks around Mudfur.

“She’s got a bellyache. She’s resting. Who’s the new cat?” Mudfur asked, pointing his tail tip at Darkpaw.

Barkface’s chest fur puffed out proudly. “That’s Darkpaw, he’s my apprentice.”

The RiverClan healer looked over Darkpaw closely. Darkpaw’s fur prickled. “A fine young cat, he is. Looks strong, and healthy. You’ve been learning a lot from Barkface, kit?”

Darkpaw nodded. “I don’t know that much yet. I’ve only been an apprentice for a quarter-moon.”

Mudfur smiled warmly. “You’ll learn a lot, in due time. Barkface here is a smart and resourceful medicine cat, you should have no problem.”

“Thank you.”

The group started up the mountain face, Highstones. The slope had started to incline steeply, and Darkpaw had to work twice as hard, only to get twice as far. “It gets easier,” Runningpaw mewed, when Darkpaw had collapsed on a rock, panting. Runningpaw pointed upwards to a gaping hole. “Not much higher. We’ll be there soon.”

Darkpaw stood up, glaring in determination. If he couldn’t make it up, how could he be a medicine cat?

Barkface walked beside him, pushing him away from the gorse bushes. “There’s a few rules about visiting the moonstone. First off, once we enter the cave, you must not speak. I will announce your presence to StarClan, and you will only speak when I ask you my question.”

“Alright,” Darkpaw said absently, clambering over a boulder.

“Good. Secondly, we don’t share our dreams until we are sure we know what they mean. If you are confused, you may talk to me or a senior medicine cat, but no one else.”

“Why can’t we share dreams?”

“So you don’t get the wrong idea about omens, it could lead to chaos,” Yellowfang butted in. “We’re here.”

Darkpaw stood at the hole of the cave, gazing into the pitch blackness. He could feel a small breeze, the wind bouncing off the walls of the cave. He sniffed, it smelt damp and cold.

“And you two apprentices must keep quiet!” Yellowfang snapped. “We mustn’t anger StarClan by breaking the code!”

How can Runningpaw stand such a snappy and cranky mentor? How could Barkface stand it?

Runningpaw followed his mentor, his jaws clamped shut. The darkness swallowed the two cats up, and muffled their scent almost immediately.

“Come along,” Mudfur pushed Darkpaw forward with his muzzle. “It’s a bit claustrophobic in there, but it isn’t that far. Stay close to Barkface.”

Spottedleaf and Featherwhisker entered next, and Mudfur followed behind. Darkpaw glanced at Barkface, and pressed to his side for comfort.

“It’s not far, I promise. Let’s go.” The brown cat crawled into the entrance, and Darkpaw, afraid of being left alone, scrambled in after.

Almost immediately, the darkness closed in and Darkpaw could see nothing. Not even a faint outline of his traveling companions. He could smell them, though. Barkface was right ahead of him, and was walking slower than the others. Staying close to me.

He bumped into the cavern wall many times, once he smacked his nose so hard his eyes watered, but he said nothing. As long as he felt around with his whiskers and paid attention to the breeze, he was fine.

At last, the cavern widened and Darkpaw could see again. He saw the shape of the other medicine cats, and a huge, dark blue crystal. He looked at Barkface. This doesn’t look special at all.

The moonstone, as if contradicting him, caught a moonbeam through a hole in the roof and lit up. The cave filled with brilliant white light, and Darkpaw’s eyes burned. The stone sparkled with the light of a thousand tiny stars, and the ground beneath Darkpaw felt hot and powerful.

The other cats had drawn themselves in a circle, and were looking expectantly at Barkface and Darkpaw. The stares of so many other eyes made Darkpaw feel queasy.

Barkface took a place in the circle, and beckoned for Darkpaw to do the same. “Darkpaw,” he began, starting the ritualistic ceremony of a medicine cat’s apprenticeship. “Is it your wish to enter the mysteries of StarClan as a medicine cat?”

“It is.”

Barkface smiled affectionately. “Then come forward.”

Darkpaw’s mind raced as he stepped up closer to the blinging moonstone, squinting his eyes.

“Warriors of StarClan, I present to you this apprentice. He has chosen the path of a medicine cat. Grant him your wisdom and insight so that he may understand your ways and heal his Clan in accordance with your will.”

Spottedleaf looked as if she was about to burst with pride. Darkpaw’s heart soared.

Barkface stepped forward and touched his nose to the moonstone. Darkpaw didn’t want to get any closer to the eye-blinding brightness, but when Barkface flicked his ears in its direction, he obeyed.

The light was unbearable, but he was soon able to fall asleep. No dreams came at first, but StarClan was not silent for long.

Darkpaw’s eyes opened up to a huge, open land. Stars glittered, in the grass, clouds, and in the eyes of the cat that had approached him.

My first dream! He sat down, trying not to get too excited.

A grey tomcat Darkpaw didn’t know bowed his head. “Welcome to StarClan, little medicine cat.”

“It’s an honor,” Darkpaw said, as steadily as he could muster. “Are you going to give me a prophecy?”

The grey cat shook his head. “Not tonight. We don’t have anything for you yet.” He glanced behind his shoulder. “But there’s someone we’d love for you to meet.”

A pale grey tabby tom leapt from behind the other. Stars sparkled on his fur and in his eyes. Darkpaw scanned his pelt, and saw it was spotted -- with tawny-colored spots. The cat had a smile so big, Darkpaw thought his whole jaw would dislocate.

“Are you Tawnyspots?” He asked, although he already knew it was.

Tawnyspots nodded vigorously. “And I’m your father! I’m so glad I finally get to meet you!” He bounced around Darkpaw, fast as a rabbit. “I’m so sorry I died before you came! I would’ve raised you right!”

Darkpaw smiled.

“I need to teach that fox-hearted Willowpelt a lesson! Why did she even agree to anything?”

The dark tabby shrugged. “I’ve been asking that ever since my eyes opened.” He scanned the horizon again. “Is Swiftbreeze here? I want to see her.”

The paler tabby shook his head. “Not this time. But she’s around. I see her all the time. We’re watching over you, you know. She said that I should have some one-on-one time with you, because you haven’t met me before.”

“Well,” Darkpaw began, not knowing what to say, “I’m very glad to meet you now. I know you love me very much, and I would’ve loved to have you in my life.”

Tawnyspots’ tail was wagging back and forth in excitement. Darkpaw was surprised, he expected Tawnyspots’ to be somewhat boring like all the other old cats he’d met.

Looking over Tawnyspots, he could see that they definitely looked like kin. They shared the same eye and body shape. Tawnyspots had a tawny belly spot that looked exactly like Darkpaw’s, but several other tawny spots dotted his fur, giving away his namesake. The two had similar facial stripes, but Tawnyspots didn’t have stripes over his eyes like Darkpaw had.

“Do you like WindClan? Do you want to go back to ThunderClan?”

“I like WindClan very much. I would never choose to return to ThunderClan.” He gazed up at his father, waiting for him to protest.

Tawnyspots bounced up again. “I’m glad you enjoy WindClan! I wouldn’t want you to be unhappy! Because I love you so much already!”

I didn’t expect him to be like this, but I’m not at all disappointed. He obviously loves me very much, and he’s ecstatic that I can finally speak to him.

The tawny spotted tom wove around the dark striped apprentice several times, licking his ears and face. “You look so beautiful! You have my eyes and my spots! And a pretty ring of tawny around your neck! And a nice swirly stripe on your back, that you probably got from Willowpelt.” Tawnyspots slowed his pace and nuzzled into his son. “I dreamed of playing with you and teaching you everything you ever need to know. When my sickness took its final plummet, the only thing I could think of was never being able to raise my kits. I tried so, so hard to hold onto life, but StarClan wanted me to join them. I’m so sorry I was never there for you, when you needed someone to be there for you.”

“I wasn’t alone,” he reassured his father. “I had Redtail and Swiftbreeze to look after me.”

“I know, I know,” Tawnyspots sighed. “But I wish I was.”

Darkpaw leaned in closer to his father, feeling warm and safe, like nothing could ever hurt him, ever again.

Tawnyspots’ eyes went cloudy and white suddenly. Darkpaw jumped back in surprise, afraid of the sudden loss of emotion on his face and in his eyes.

He opened his mouth and spoke, but the words he said seemed to come from all angles, being spoken by several other cats, although there were no others in sight. Not even the amber-eyed, grey tom who had greeted Darkpaw.

Two of the same fight for control, hurt cannot triumph over love, peace must be made and feelings resolved; The flower is still streaked with blood.

Tawnyspots’ eyes unclouded, and the other voices faded away. Darkpaw stood, shaking, anchoring his claws into the ground, as if the next word spoken would tear him from his paws and send him flying into the sky.

His father gulped in the air. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

Darkpaw tried to say that it was fine, but the words rattled in his chest. It came out as “Ig’th f-fine.” He gulped again, and managed to whisper, “It’s fine. But… the grey cat said I wouldn’t receive a prophecy today.”

Recognition sparked in Tawnyspots’ eyes. “Grey Wing didn’t know of this prophecy, it only just came to me.”

The flower is still streaked with blood? He glanced around him, knowing not what to look for, and he saw nothing.

StarClan’s hunting grounds had begun to fade. Tawnyspots looked more like a spirit cat then he did before, his body going misty and eyes fading out.

“Wait-” Darkpaw awoke, gasping for air in the dark cave, the moonstone barely visible. The moon must’ve passed over and ended the vision, he concluded. The other cats were stirring, their eyes blinking open. Barkface gave Darkpaw a quick lick on the forehead, as if to say “You did great.”

Featherwhisker, his pale pelt most visible in the minimal light, led the way out, the others packed nose to tail tip as they crawled back out to the open.

A cold air greeted Darkpaw when he finally burst out of the narrow tunnel. The sky was pitch dark, and the moon was the only light. Darkpaw squinted at the bright light the monsters made on the thunderpath down below.

“Well? How was it?” Runningpaw mewed as soon as the group began their journey home.

Darkpaw shrugged. “Alright, I guess.”

Runningpaw nodded. “StarClan is sort of intimidating sometimes. But you’ll get used to them.”

“Yeah,” he responded, not knowing what to say.

I’ve heard that StarClan is very vague when giving out prophecies.

He pressed up closer to his mentor, remembering the dream that came along the first night of his apprenticeship.

Maybe that’s what it means; I could still become that awful cat.

The sky suddenly seemed so much bigger, and the stars were no longer comforting. As if StarClan was already punishing him for the actions of his other self.

I thought I was safe.

But I still have a long way to go until then.

Chapter Text

Darkpaw clamped his jaws on the burdock roots he was carrying. Deadpaw bounced along beside him, chattering about how great of a mentor Tallstar was. Tallstar had come with the two apprentices, and was listening to his praise with amused curiosity.

“Barkface is the best,” Darkpaw contradicted his friend, mumbling around the burdock in his mouth.

Deadpaw snorted. “As if! He isn’t the leader ! He just knows how to heal. What if you need to defend yourself? Do you throw roots at the attackers? ‘Beware ShadowClan! I have lavender!’”

Tallstar cuffed his apprentice around the ear. “Don’t tease, Deadpaw. Being a medicine cat is a very important job.”

“I know, I know,” Deadpaw insisted. “I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay,” Darkpaw said. “I think I can scare off ShadowClan with lavender. They’ll be afraid of its sweet scent. Because ShadowClan cats love stink!”

“That’s enough,” Tallstar scolded. “We have to be respectful of other Clans.” Changing the subject, he asked, “So what does burdock do?”

Darkpaw held his tail high, proud to share his knowledge. “It’s for rat bites. Barkface says that we’ll be getting more rat problems, so we should stock up. He said that there’s a colony by the barn.”

He remembered taking a rest in a run-down barn, when he returned from the Moonstone. The whole place was crawling with mice! He was surprised no cat had moved in yet!

But the rats were a problem. Barkface had taken a long leeway to avoid them. Whoever moved into the barn would need to know how to deal with rats, that was for sure.

They reached the camp, and Deadpaw bounded away to the fresh-kill pile. Mudpaw and Tornpaw, who had received their apprentice names only days earlier, greeted Darkpaw with huge smiles.

“Guess what! Guess what!” Mudpaw exclaimed excitedly, sticking his nose right up into Darkpaw’s face. He didn’t give time for Darkpaw to ask ‘What?’ Before shouting out, “I caught a rabbit! Aspenfall said they were super fast and that it wasn't going to be easy, but I caught it!”

Tornpaw rolled his blue eyes. “It was a slow one.”

“Was not!” Mudpaw insisted. He sniffed at the root in Darkpaw’s jaws. “That’s a weird looking plant. What does it do?”

“Heals rat bites,” Darkpaw responded, dropping the root. “It’s called burdock. ”

“Burdock,” Tornpaw repeated. “Barkface said that you can get something to eat, I’ll take the root to him.”

“Thanks.” Darkpaw nudged the root to Tornpaw’s feet. “Have you already eaten, or do you want to share something with me?”

Mudpaw puffed out his chest. “ I am going to eat my rabbit. You can eat it with me.”

“Great.” Darkpaw made his way to the fresh-kill pile. Deadpaw sniffed out a lapwing.

“Yes, lapwing!” He mewed. “It’s my favorite!”

Warmth tingled in Darkpaw’s paws. “It’s my favorite too!”

Mudpaw snatched the rabbit on top of the fresh-kill pile. It was more grey than the fawn-cream of the other rabbits. “Aspenfall says it might taste different than normal rabbits, ‘cause it’s a different kind.”

Darkpaw shuffled his paws on the ground. “Deadpaw, do you want to eat with us?” He felt his heart thud a little harder, and he didn’t know why.

Deadpaw smiled. “Sure!” He carried the lapwing by the neck, following Mudpaw to the place nearby where the apprentices slept. Tornpaw met them there.

“Told you it was slow,” Tornpaw teased as he touched the rabbit’s foot, which was twisted. “Its foot is broken . Hi Deadpaw.”

Deadpaw mewed in greeting through feathers. Darkpaw tore into the rabbit’s flesh. It did taste sweeter, but it was tougher as well. Not as great as lapwing, but satisfying.

“Did you know Wrenflight’s expecting kits?” Deadpaw wondered.

Darkpaw nodded. “I was there when Barkface confirmed it. I can’t wait to meet them! Wrenflight’s still staying as deputy, though. Stagleap will help, but she isn’t stepping down from her duties.”

Tornpaw glanced at the nursery. “I haven’t seen a newborn kit before. We were the youngest for a while.”

Mudpaw nudged his brother. “We won’t be the youngest anymore!”

“I like kits, I think. I haven’t met any younger kits either. I was ThunderClan’s youngest.”

Deadpaw spat a feather off his nose. “Newborn kits look kind of funny. For a while, they look like little lizards, and less like kits. Then they open their eyes and it’s not as weird.”

I looked like a lizard?

Mudpaw leapt up from his meal. “I forgot to give prey to the elders! Sorry, I need to go!” The brown apprentice raced back to the fresh-kill pile.

“I’m sure the elders won’t get angry,” Tornpaw called after him, but Mudpaw didn’t hear.

“Imagine Hawkheart as a cranky elder,” Deadpaw mumbled. “Probably he’d be the angriest and crankiest and scariest elder around!”

Tornpaw giggled. “Mudpaw would be in huge trouble . Tick duty for three moons!”

“I’ll stock up on mouse bile for him,” Darkpaw added.

Deadpaw laughed, and Darkpaw’s ears felt hot as he watched the older apprentice’s shoulders shake in laughter.

“Okay I’m back,” Mudpaw sighed in relief. “The elder’s weren’t angry at all.”

“Good,” Tornpaw said. “You can have the last of this rabbit. I think Plumclaw’s heading out on patrol, I want to go with her.”

“Bye,” both of his brothers mewed. Darkpaw turned back to the other toms. “What’s even the point of patrols? The other Clans usually keep to themselves. Why can’t we all be friends?”

Deadpaw gaped. “Silly! We share a border with two Clans! We have to keep marking the borders, or else they might steal from us!”

I don’t see why we can’t just get along. Us medicine cats get along just fine.

Warriors are so weird.

“You’re a medicine cat, you think everything is all fine and dandy and that the other Clans can do no harm,” Mudpaw snorted.

Darkpaw stared back in shock. I certainly didn’t speak out loud!

Deadpaw bristled. “Hey now, that’s no way to talk to him. Medicine cats have relationships that lie outside the code, so of course he isn’t involved in the conflict!”

Where did this even come from?

Mudpaw glared at Deadpaw. “He doesn’t remember the time ThunderClan just attacked us out of nowhere! That one big brown tabby just started scratching up Mother too!”

“You were barely conscious then, how can you remember?” Deadpaw wondered.

Darkpaw flicked his tail over his brother’s mouth. “I remember them talking about it, but I was under the impression it was WindClan that caused the trouble.”

Ooh, probably I shouldn’t have said that.

Mudpaw rolled his eyes, but he said nothing. It was Deadpaw who answered instead. “Sorrelpaw and her mentor Stagleap accidentally crossed the border, and Tigerclaw ripped her to shreds. She was just so badly injured, and the other cat did nothing about it. Sorrelpaw said she looked hesitant, but didn’t do anything.”

“That’s Tigerclaw for you,” Darkpaw replied. “And ThunderClan.”

Mudpaw butted in. “Oh, but that’s not it. The other cat, I don’t know her name, maybe you do, but she promised she would talk to Bluestar about it, but then we were still attacked.”

Darkpaw had not heard this side of the story. But he remembered Redtail coming back with a horrified look on his face, telling them of a mistake he made and how he wished he had spoken up. “Oh, that was Redtail. HE did not get a chance to tell Bluestar that HE did not want any conflict with WindClan.”

“Oh, of course you stand up for your kin,” Mudpaw glowered. Deadpaw stood by Darkpaw, ready to defend him. “ThunderClan is not to be trusted. You should know that, or do you need another moon there to figure it out?”

Darkpaw bunched up, curling his tail around his paws. Why are you so angry with me?

“What has gotten into you? Why would you ever suggest that Darkpaw should ever go back to the place he was almost killed?” Deadpaw hissed at the brown tom.

Please stop yelling please stop yelling.

Awful memories of the time Willowpelt screamed at him in the ThunderClan nursery came flooding back. He trembled as he heard Mudpaw shout a retort back, and Deadpaw snarled again.

“Hey! You two! Stop it right now!” It was Tallstar. His long tail was wagging back and forth in anger as he glared, hard, at the two fighting apprentices. Mudpaw shrunk back, but Deadpaw stood his ground. Tallstar turned his harsh gaze to Darkpaw. “What happened?”

Darkpaw tried to stop his legs from the constant vibrations of fear. His mouth felt dry. Mudpaw’s my brother, why is he acting horrible? “We got into a fight.”

“About what?”

Mudpaw answered. “Darkpaw still thinks that ThunderClan’s all-knowing and can do no harm. He even stands up for that one that promised she’d make peace!”

Darkpaw bristled. “Redtail is a he ! And he didn’t get a chance!”

Deadpaw looked down at his paws. “Mudpaw was being awful out of nowhere. Darkpaw only asked a question about why the Clans don’t get along.” He lifted his twisted paw off the ground and shook it as if it stung.

Darkpaw felt his terror fade. He saw Tallstar watch him with curiosity. “What frightened you, Darkpaw? You look about as terrified as you were when you came here.”

Darkpaw felt like saying the truth might make Mudpaw laugh at him. “I don’t like it when cats yell. It’s scary.”

Tallstar nodded. “I’m sorry about that. Mudpaw, would you care to explain why you got so worked up?”

“It seems he’s still got cross-Clan loyalties.” He gestured to Darkpaw. “He thinks the best about everyone, and he’s too afraid to stand up for us now. That’s why he came here in the first place.”

Tallstar lifted a brow. “Mudpaw, you know that is not the case. And Darkpaw is a medicine cat. He is supposed to have a better connections with the other Clans than we do.”

Mudpaw let out a slow huff of air. “Okay, fine, I admit it, I worry he’s goning to get himself hurt again. From ThunderClan. We all know what they did to him before.”

“I see,” Tallstar said calmly. “But you need to work on calm and level communication with your brother, I thought Ryestalk would have taught you better.” He paused. “Well, I guess she’s not the best at calm conversation.” He was referring to the she-cat’s feisty temper that came out in bursts at times, and made her infamous among the other Clans for being quick to land painful blows in battle.

Deadpaw sat awkwardly to the side of his mentor. “I don’t think Darkpaw understood your intent. He thought you were being awful, and I thought that too.”

Tallstar stepped in front of the dark tabby apprentice. “There is some truth in Mudpaw’s words, too. Be cautious of who you trust, alright?”

Is that the problem?

I guess I always believed Willowpelt would eventually care if I was nice to her.

I know that cats can be awful, I know a whole lot about who is worthy of trust and who you should avoid.

I don’t think I trust everyone.

“And as for you Deadpaw,” Tallstar continued. “You shouldn’t have jumped to Darkpaw’s defense, he needs to learn to do that for himself.”

Deadpaw grunted. “But he’s my friend!”

“It’s okay, Deadpaw,” Darkpaw told Deadpaw. “I should do things myself.” But I’m not brave at all. I don’t like yelling.

Tallstar groaned, hanging his head. “You three just break it up. Mudpaw, go find Aspenfall, and Deadpaw, come with me. Darkpaw, go find Barkface.” The long tailed cat turned heel, and Deadpaw bounded past him.

Mudpaw and Darkpaw were alone, together.

Mudpaw turned his eyes up to his brother. Darkpaw saw that they were clouded with guilt. “I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know. You’re my brother, and I want you to be safe from ThunderClan.”

Darkpaw shrugged it off. “Whatever, it’s okay.”

Mudpaw still looked gravely serious. “You can’t trust other Clans. Not ShadowClan, not RiverClan, and especially not ThunderClan. You hear me?”

Darkpaw nodded. He knew ThunderClan wasn’t great at keeping their promises, for making sure he was in any way safe, but they weren’t dangerous. They weren’t monsters.

Mudpaw smiled. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

Feeling better, Darkpaw made his way to the medicine den. Barkface was inside, taking a nap. His nose twitched when Darkpaw entered, and his eyes flew open. “Oh, hi! Did you have a nice time with Deadpaw and Tallstar?”

“I did. I found a patch of burdock just below the lookout rock.”

Barkface arched his back and stretched. “Good. We’re safe from rat bites now.” A look crossed his face. “There’s a gathering tonight. Do you want to come?”

Darkpaw’s heart leapt. “Yes! Please let me come!”

Redtail! I get to see Redtail again!

“Alright then,” Barkface mewed. “But we will have a lot of explaining to do, if Featherwhisker or Spottedleaf haven’t already told them.”

That was the least of Darkpaw’s worries. He could even tolerate Willowpelt for the time. He was going to see Redtail!

The moon was high, and the clearing was noisy with the sounds of WindClan and ShadowClan cats. Darkpaw felt nervous, for some reason. The thought of ever seeing ThunderClan again was strange, and he didn’t know if they’d leave him be or try to take him back.

Runningpaw was seated next to Darkpaw, introducing his Clanmates. “That she-cat over there is called Foxheart, and she’s our deputy. And Nightpelt’s that thin furred tom over there. He also has a cough that we can’t cure.”

“That sounds awful,” Darkpaw mewed absently, scanning the trees on the ThunderClan border.

Runningpaw nodded. “It’s only a huge problem if he gets too stressed or exercises too much. Anyway, those two cats are my littermates.” He pointed to a brown and white she-cat, and a ginger tom. “They’re called Tangleburr and Deerfoot.”

Darkpaw nodded in acknowledgement again. But his heart was racing. The blue-grey pelt of the ThunderClan leader Bluestar had just come from the trees. Thrushpelt, Lionheart, Whitestorm, and Willowpelt followed immediately. Darkpaw’s forepaws worked the ground, energy surging through his pelt. Rosetail, Spottedleaf, Featherwhisker, oh! There’s Runningwind!

Runningpaw tracked Darkpaw’s gaze, and stopped talking. He stepped back towards his mentor, giving Darkpaw some space.

A brindled face appeared right after Runningwind. A plumy red tail was raised high, and amber eyes scanned the lot of WindClan apprentices. Amber eyes full of hope, but flickered back into sorrow, presumably not finding what they were looking for.

Runningwind caught Darkpaw’s eyes and his jaw dropped. Darkpaw fluffed up his fur, feeling so nervous, he thought his heart would burst from his chest and flop out onto the floor of the clearing. Runningwind pawed at the brindled cat, a huge smile on his face, green eyes shining brightly.

Darkpaw met the eyes of the cat he hadn’t seen in moons. The one who had been there, through thick and thin, and never gave up on him.

“Redtail!”

Darkpaw could hear the entirety of ThunderClan gasp as they laid their eyes on the kit they thought had died. The blue eyes of Willowpelt had a look of shock, wonder, and relief. 

She was worried about me?

Willowpelt didn’t matter, however. Darkpaw was bowled over by a blur of black and red fur, being smothered by a bout of fierce licking all over. Nothing else mattered in this moment, other than the feeling of being wrapped in the grasp of someone loved so dearly.

He heard the voices of the other cats, but couldn’t make out words. He could hear confusion and shock and awe, but none of it mattered.

Redtail was shaking. Darkpaw could feel his body vibrate through his pelt. He could feel the sheer amount of joy coming from Redtail’s heart. The pure feeling of love, relief, and oh, so much love.

“I almost worried you wouldn’t be here tonight,” Darkpaw heard his mentor tell Redtail. “Which would've broken his little heart.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Redtail sobbed, wrapping Darkpaw close. “My beautiful son. You’re safe.”

“Of course,” Darkpaw purred. “Thanks to WindClan.”

Darkpaw could now see the ThunderClan cats had made a circle around him. Pink, grey, brown, and black noses sniffed his pelt. Amber, green, and blue eyes widened in pure shock.

Thrushpelt looked angry. “So, he was alive this whole time, and no cat bothered to tell me? Or Dappletail?”

Oh, great. Now a fight.

Redtail crouched over Darkpaw protectively. “ I was the one who raised him. I was the one who decided to save him. You did nothing.”

Rosetail hissed. “What if this situation was flipped? Darkkit was the only thing we had left of our brother! It felt like we’d lost him all over again!”

“Like I said, you did nothing.”

“You could’ve told us!” Thrushpelt retorted, and glared at the brown tabby next to him. “You had the audacity to tell Runningwind!”

Darkpaw started to tremble. Barkface saw his apprentice’s discomfort, and nosed him away from the crowd of ThunderClan cats. “It’s hard, isn’t it?”

Darkpaw sighed. “I wish they had told my father’s family. They didn’t raise me, but they loved me. They’re my kin. They deserved to know I wasn’t taken away by a fox.”

“Silence!” Bluestar roared at her Clan. “We will discuss this later! RiverClan has arrived! Let the gathering begin!”

The arguing cats stopped, but it was clear the argument was not over. The two sides glared at each other, and turned to sit on opposite sides of the clearing.

A pretty white and black-spotted she-cat was sitting next to Darkpaw. “You must be the new WindClan apprentice. My name is Brambleberry, and I’m the RiverClan medicine cat.”

Barkface gazed at his apprentice proudly. “This is Darkpaw.”

Brambleberry glanced up at the rock, where the leaders were discussing. “We welcome you, for taking the path of a medicine cat.”

“WindClan will speak first,” Tallstar mewed, walking to the front of the rock. “Prey has been running well, and WindClan is growing. We have brought three new apprentices. Mudpaw and Tornpaw are warrior apprentices, with Aspenfall and Plumclaw as their mentors.” He stared down at Darkpaw. “And our little rescue kit is training to be a medicine cat, and is called Darkpaw.”

Darkpaw heard the names of all five cats echo around the clearing. Deadpaw wasn’t there, but Darkpaw could swear that he heard him in the breeze.

Whitestorm, Darkpaw’s distant kin, gave Darkpaw an approving smile as he cheered the cat's name, obviously proud of the young cat’s decision to save lives.

“Wrenflight is expecting Stagleap’s kits, and Stagleap will temporarily take over as deputy until his mate can resume her duties,” Tallstar continued. Stagleap sat up taller, looked mighty proud.

A scary-looking dark brown tom took Tallstar’s place. Darkpaw didn’t know his name, but guessed he was the ShadowClan leader. Runningpaw, beside Yellowfang, waited in anticipation. “ShadowClan also grows strong. We have recently lost our leader, Cederstar. I have traveled to the moonstone to receive my nine lives, and I have earned the name of Raggedstar. Foxheart is my deputy.”

The reddish she-cat gave an arrogant glance to all her Clanmates, as well as the rest of the cats. Darkpaw thought he saw Yellowfang glare up at the leader, mouthing something he couldn’t catch. Runningpaw whipped around to stare at his mentor, a look of fear on his face. Yellowfang hushed him, and turned him back to the crowd.

What’s wrong with them?

“I have made my son, Brokenpaw, into Brokentail. Tanglepaw and Deerpaw have become Tangleburr and Deerfoot.”

Names echoed again, but Darkpaw could only think of the look of fear in Yellowfang’s bright orange eyes.

Raggedstar had nothing more to say, and Bluestar took his place. “Our prey has been running well. We have no new apprentices, and we probably won’t for a while yet,” Bluestar spoke on. “We also found Thistleclaw dead. We don’t know what killed him, but our wishes go with him.” She seemed relieved, and none of the Clan looked particularly upset. Her voice portrayed no emotion, but her eyes said it all. “On the recent discovery that our kit is safe, we thank WindClan deeply. But now, I ask that we may have him back.”

Darkpaw’s blood ran cold. He looked at Barkface, pleading his mentor to do something. “I can’t,” he mouthed. “Please help me.”

The WindClan cats looked outraged. Tallstar growled and bared his teeth at Bluestar. Barkface stood his ground. “No. He has sworn his loyalty, you may not have him back.”

A new voice spoke from the top of the highrock. “Bluestar, let RiverClan share our news. StarClan is angry.”

Darkpaw watched clouds drift before the moon. The light in the clearing became dimmer, and sounds of anger became sounds of fear.

Barkface didn’t leave his apprentice’s side. His amber-green eyes stared threateningly at the hoard of ThunderClan cats.

Darkpaw caught Redtail’s eyes. The eyes of the cat who had helped to keep him alive on the awful moons of ThunderClan. As much as he loved Redtail, he couldn’t go back there.

“We have two new warriors, Stonefur and Mistyfoot.” Darkpaw could barely hear the RiverClan leader’s words and the cheers through his own thoughts.

ThunderClan must know that they must never try to take me. I am happy. In WindClan. I belong there, with the wind in my fur, and the sky over my head. I don’t like the forest. I can barely see the stars.

ThunderClan didn’t take any action against Willowpelt. They didn’t find solutions, unlike my family.

But what could’ve they done?

There weren't many options. Other than to wait until I could eat fresh-kill.

What if I had stayed in ThunderClan? Would I be dead, or alive and doing well?

Would I be a medicine cat?

The memory of the dream he had hit him like a rockfall. Is that the cat I left behind?

Barkface nudged him. “Don’t zone out, ThunderClan wants an answer from you.” Barkface’s voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed all the emotion. Fear and grief, but also plead.

You have that little faith in me, Barkface? “I can’t go back.”

Thrushpelt’s ears dropped to the side of his head. “But we’re your kin!”

Darkpaw sat up firmly, trying not to let any emotion show in his voice, although he felt like crying. “I can’t. I belong with WindClan. I belong on the moor. I have lives to save there, as well as my own life to save.”

Redtail’s face showed such a strong emotion, Darkpaw thought he would break going on.

“ThunderClan is not my home. It may have been once, but it will never be again.”

He expected anger. Rage. Demand.

But there was nothing.

Darkpaw relaxed, and Barkface breathed out deeply, as if he’d been holding it in for a while. “I thank you for your concern, but you can’t expect me back. “

“He is right,” came a familiar voice.

“Willowpelt,” Darkpaw gritted his teeth as he heard his birth mother speak.

Willowpelt’s voice wasn’t angry. Nor disinterested. “If he is happy, we should be happy too. Let him live in WindClan, without your judgement.”

Snarls of anger followed. “Of course you would say that! You hate him!” Rosetail protested.

Rosetail does have a point. But a small part of his mind wanted to believe that the drama with Willowpelt would be over. A small part of his mind wanted to believe Willowpelt was a good cat inside.

Tallstar, who had appeared by his medicine cats, spoke up next. “Darkpaw is old enough to decide for himself. He said he would rather stay with us. He has already sworn his loyalty to us, several times.”

Barkface nodded to his leader and faced the ThunderClan cats with growing certainty. “Darkpaw is the most honest apprentice I’ve met yet. He means what he says, and says what he means.”

Rosetail sighed, and looked more grateful. “I can’t argue with that. I can only say that we have missed him, and we are glad he’s alive and safe.”

Darkpaw looked around the clearing, relieved that the RiverClan and ShadowClan cats had gone. He didn’t want them listening in on the private conversation.

Lionheart, the golden tabby warrior turned his tail to the forest. “If he has made his decision, then who are we to decide and influence his path? Come, the gathering has ended.”

At least some ThunderClan cats understand.

Darkpaw was overwhelmed with the sudden amount of cats pressing up against him. Rosetail, Thrushpelt, Runningwind, and Redtail. Runningwind purred and Rosetail licked his ears. “We’ll miss you,” Thrushpelt said, he didn’t sound disappointed.

“Come and visit us,” Redtail mewed. “I want to see you more than once a moon.”

Tallstar shooed the four away. “We thank you for bringing him to us. We’ll make sure he is kept safe, you needn’t worry.”

Redtail stayed to watch Darkpaw leave the clearing. Darkpaw followed his mentor slowly, keeping his eyes locked with Redtail’s. Amber met honey, staring for what seemed to be too short. Trees enclosed in on Redtail’s shape, and Darkpaw was on the moor again.

The moor.

His home.