Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

ALLEGIENCES 

THUNDERCLAN

Leader: 

Firestar- a bright ginger tabby tom with vivid green eyes  (Mate: Sandstorm)

Deputy:

Brambleclaw- a large dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes, son of Goldenflower and Tigerstar

Medicine cat(s):

Leafpool- a light brown tabby and white she-cat with amber eyes, daughter of Firestar and Sandstorm (Mate: Mothwing)

Warriors:

Dustpelt- a dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes (Mate: Ferncloud)

Sandstorm- a pale ginger she-cat with faint darker stripes and pale green eyes (Mate: Firestar)

Cloudtail- a thick haired white tom with blue eyes (Mate: Brightheart)

Brackenfur- a golden brown tabby tom with amber eyes (Mate: Sorreltail)

Apprentice: Whitepaw

Thornclaw- a golden brown tabby tom with pale blue eyes

Brightheart- a white she-cat with ginger tabby patches and a scarred face with only one blue eye (Mate: Cloudtail)

Ashfur- a short haired gray tom with flecks of darker gray and dark blue eyes 

Apprentice: Birchpaw

Rainwhisker- a dark gray tom with blue eyes

Squirrelflight- a thick-haired dark ginger she-cat with green eyes and a singular white paw, daughter of Firestar and Sandstorm 

Spiderleg- a long-legged black and brown tom with amber eyes

Apprentices:

Whitepaw- a white she-cat with green eyes, daughter of Brightheart and Cloudtail

Birchpaw- a light brown tabby tom with amber eyes, son of Dustpelt and Ferncloud

Queens and kits:

Ferncloud- a pale gray she-cat with darker gray flecks and green eyes (Mate: Dustpelt), mother of his kits

Sorreltail- a tortoiseshell and white she-cat with amber eyes, (Mate: Brackenfur); mother to Molekit (a black and gray tom), Honeykit (a light brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes), Poppykit (a pale tortoiseshell and white she-cat), and Cinderkit (a dark gray smokey tabby she-cat with dark blue eyes)

Daisy- a thick haired cream she-cat with pale blue eyes; mother of Berrykit (a cream tom with a stumpy tail and green eyes), Mousekit (a gray and white tom with green eyes), and Hazelkit (a small gray and white she-cat)

Elders:

Goldenflower- a pale ginger tabby she-cat with yellow eyes (Former mates: Tigerstar and Patchpelt)

Longtail- a pale tabby tom with black stripes and green eyes; retired early after a hunting incident left him blind

Mousefur- a dusky brown she-cat with blue-yellow eyes

SHADOWCLAN

Leader:

Blackstar- a heavily scarred huge white tom with black paws, a few extra toes, and amber eyes

Deputy: 

Russetfur- a sleek dark ginger she-cat with dark green eyes, former rogue

Medicine cat(s):

Littlecloud- a small brown tabby tom with blue eyes

Warriors:

Oakfur- a small brown tom with green eyes

Cedarheart- a dark gray tom with yellow eyes

Rowanclaw- a dark ginger tabby tom with amber eyes (Mate: Tawnypelt)

Tawnypelt- a tortoiseshell and white she-cat with green eyes, daughter of Goldenflower and Tigerstar (Mate: Rowanclaw)

Snowhowl- a white tom with unusual pinkish eyes, former rogue

Ryespark- a thick haired she-cat with golden and brown markings on face, paws, ears, and tail, as well as bright green eyes; former rogue

Queens and kits:

Tallpoppy- a long legged brown tabby she-cat with green eyes (Mate: Ryespark); mother of Applekit (mottled brown she-cat), Toadkit (a dark brown tom), and Marshkit (a small brown patchy tom with orange eyes)

Elder:

Boulder- a skinny gray tom with ragged ears and blue eyes, former rogue

WINDCLAN

Leader: 

Onestar- a small pale brown tabby tom with amber eyes (Mate: Whitetail)

Deputy: 

Ashfoot- a gray she-cat with blue eyes (Former Mate: Deadfoot)

Medicine Cat(s):

Barkface- a dark brown tom with a short tail and yellow eyes

Warriors:

Tornear- a gray tabby tom with a torn right ear and blue eyes

Owlwhisker- a light brown tabby tom with yellow eyes

Nightcloud- a black she-cat with amber eyes 

Weaselfur- a ginger tom with white paws and green eyes

Webfoot- a dark gray tabby tom with orange eyes

Queens:

Whitetail- a small white she-cat (Mate: Onestar)

Elders:

Morningflower- a tortoiseshell and white she-cat with amber eyes (Former mate: Cloudrunner)

Rushtail- a skinny cream tom

RIVERCLAN

Leader:

Leopardstar- an unusually dappled golden tabby she-cat with amber eyes 

Deputy:

Mistyfoot- a sleek blue-gray she-cat with blue eyes (Former Mate: Blackclaw)

Medicine Cat(s):

Mothwing- a beautiful golden tabby she-cat with amber eyes (Mate: Leafpool)

Apprentice: Willowpaw

Warriors:

Blackclaw- a smoky black tom with orange eyes

Apprentice: Beechpaw

Voletooth- a small brown tabby tom

Swallowtail- a dark brown tabby she-cat with green eyes

Stonestream- a gray tom

Reedwhisker- a black tom with dark gray eyes, son of Mistyfoot and Blackclaw

Apprentice: Ripplepaw

Apprentices:

Willowpaw- a dark gray tabby she-cat with green eyes, daughter of Mosspelt

Beechpaw- a light brown tom

Ripplepaw- a dark gray tabby tom

Queens and kits:

Mosspelt- a tortoiseshell and white she-cat with blue eyes (Former Mate: Frogleap)

Dawnflower- a pale gray she-cat

Cats outside of the Clans:

Crowfeather- a dark gray smoky tom with dark blue eyes, son of Ashfoot and Deadfoot

Ravenpaw- a black tom with green eyes and white on chest and tail (Mate: Barley)

Barley- a black and white tom with blue eyes (Mate: Ravenpaw)

StormClan

Leader: 

Specklestar- a long haired unusually dappled pale ginger tom with dark blue eyes

Deputy:

Harvestleap- a white tom with green eyes and dried herbs in his fur

Medicine cat(s):

Dappleheart- a long haired brown and white tom with hazel eyes

Warriors:

Berrymoth- a white tom with dark gray smoky markings on his face, ears, paws, and tail and dark blue eyes

Flurrywillow- an unusually spotted golden and black she-cat with yellow eyes

Mollie- former loner, a silver smoke she-cat with green eyes and a long scar across her left shoulder and upper back

Wisteriafoot- a thick furred white ticked tom with amber eyes and moth wings tucked behind one ear

Quicktail- a short haired unusually spotted golden tabby she-cat with dark blue eyes and a blue-and-gold ribbon collar, former kittypet

Sunrun- a thick haired pale ginger tabby she-cat with a white belly and blue eyes

Rushfreckle- daughter of Nacrespots, a long haired white ticked tabby she-cat with hazel eyes (had a brother named Tuftrose)

Lakespots- son of Nacrespots, a light gray ticked tabby tom with blue eyes and a maple lea f tucked behind one ear 

Elders:

Nacrespots- a white she-cat with hazel eyes, former rogue

Chapter Text

Pale sunlight sent dappled shadows across a forested riverbank, a small stream flowing through it. Three cats were sitting close together, talking to one another.

“To punish a cat for love is something that should not happen,” meowed a blue-gray she-cat with blue eyes, who sat on a flat rock near the stream. 

A tortoiseshell tom sitting a few fox-tails away from her flicked his ginger tail, his amber eyes dark. “Unless that love is harmful.”

“This is not Thistleclaw and Spottedleaf, Redtail,” a dark tom with a twisted forepaw meowed. “This was not even love at all. You know as well as I do that my son never loved either of those medicine cats, and yet he will be punished for it anyway.”

The blue-gray she-cat flicked her ear. “I know that, Deadfoot. And yet the living cats do not, except for a select few; not enough to stop what is coming.”

The tortoiseshell tom, Redtail, turned to a cat who was sitting in the shadows close by him. “Do you have an opinion, Tallstar?”

A black and white tomcat with bright eyes and a long tail got to his paws and padded out of the darkness.

“I hate to see injustice,” Tallstar meowed. “Especially to a brave cat like him. But there is little we can do. We cannot control the living, only advise them. And if we speak our mind to Onestar…”

Deadfoot sighed. “...he would not listen anyway. Great stars, that cat is stubborn.”

“He gets it from me, I’m afraid,” Tallstar sighed. “My half-nephew is too much like me when I was young.”

“You were never like him, Tallstar,” the blue-gray she-cat meowed. “You may have both left your Clans and loved outside them, but only one of you abandoned your kittens.”

Tallstar dipped his head to the blue-gray she-cat. “Thank you, Bluestar.”

“So are we in agreement that my son will suffer and I cannot do a thing about it?” Deadfoot interrupted, eyes gleaming with impatience. “That he will experience even more loss than he already has?”

Tallstar licked Deadfoot around the ears soothingly, as if he were a mother cat calming her kitten. “I am sorry, Deadfoot. There is nothing we can do.”

Deadfoot turned away, his eyes turning dark. “I’ve already lost three of my kits. I cannot bear to lose my last one, the one who has a chance of a full life.”

“He will not die,” Bluestar said firmly, rising to her paws and glancing down into the stream. “Much like this stream, his path will change over time, but he will adapt to it. He will mold to it.”

“He survived the Great Journey, and the quest to Midnight,” Redtail meowed. “He is a fine young cat. He has just stumbled and lost his way, due to pain, and that rarely means a cat is lost forever.”

“He has been forged by struggle and sorrow, just like his father,” Bluestar meowed, glancing at Deadfoot. “He will make it, and we will watch over him until we can no longer.”

Deadfoot glanced at his paws, his expression stormy. “And then he will be lost to me in life, and then lost to me in death.”

Bluestar’s eyes glowed as the sunlight flowed over them. “No. The crow will fly far, but the storm will save him. He will find salvation in the ruins of the gale and stripes, and find happiness in the end where so many have found nothing but sorrow. His path will take him far from StarClan’s sight in the living world, but he will return, when the three with the powers of the stars in their paws wake and walk the forest.”

Deadfoot looked only partially relieved and Tallstar rested his tail on his former apprentice’s shoulder. 

“Do not worry, old friend,” Tallstar mewed. “Your son is not the first warrior to walk a path far from the Clans, nor will he be the last. Have faith. Have faith in your son, in the warrior Mudclaw trained, in the cat you chose to guide WindClan to a new home. He will survive. Perhaps, he will even thrive, and learn to live with his grief.”

“I hope so,” Deadfoot meowed softly. “I hope so, for his sake. He has been through so much already. I do not think he can handle any more pain.”

Chapter Text

It all started after Crowfeather saved Leafpool from some ShadowClan warriors on a cliff. Leafpool had thanked him- and then sought him out at the next Gathering. She’d introduced him to Mothwing and the three of them became friends; an unlikely friendship Crowfeather treasured. 

In a different life, he might have fallen in love with Leafpool. Any cat with eyes could see how pretty the tabby she-cat was, how kind and compassionate. But all Crowfeather could see was a friend. And besides, Leafpool was taken- Crowfeather wasn’t an expert on romance by any means, but the way Mothwing and Leafpool looked at each other…it reminded him of Ravenpaw and Barley. It wasn’t just friendship, that was for sure. 

He felt happy and alive when he was around any cat from the quest, Leafpool, or Mothwing, in a way he just wasn’t feeling in WindClan. He had no friends there, he barely had any family and most of them except for Ashfoot jist didn’t care about him. Onestar was working him down to the bone, possibly to prove Ashfoot hadn’t been a choice of nepotism and that he would make his relatives work their tails off just as much as any other warrior, he barely got a chance to eat or sleep, and when he did sleep he dreamt about Feathertail. 

Overall, he was completely miserable in his birth Clan. So when Mothwing and Leafpool came to him one night and told him their plan to leave, to become rogues, to leave everything behind and seek happiness in the world beyond the Clans, of course he was ecstatic. 

Freedom. It was so close. Crowfeather had never been happier than when he had been during the quest to the sun-drown-place; it was the first place he had ever felt truly accepted, not as Deadfoot’s son or Ashfoot’s only kit to live on to carry her legacy, but for who he was. 

So the three of them went. They left. But not for long. Leafpool had had a vision and the three of them had raced back to ThunderClan to find it being attacked by badgers. Help had come, but Cinderpelt, Leafpool’s former mentor, had died, as well as another ThunderClan cat (Crowfeather was pretty sure his name was Sootfur, but he could be wrong), and Leafpool’s best friend had given birth to kittens.

Afterwards, understandably, Leafpool had decided to stay. Mothwing had gone back to RiverClan. And Crowfeather…he had been dragged back to WindClan, where he was now, for judgment. 

“My own kin,” Onestar meowed coldly, looking down at Crowfeather with harsh judgment in his eyes. “Runs off with two she-cats from other Clans. And not only from other Clans, but their medicine cats.”

Tornear hissed at Crowfeather, making the darker gray tom flinch. 

“I am not in love with them!” Crowfeather snapped, but every cat seemed disbelieving. 

“You come back and expect forgiveness? And even lie?” Onestar sneered. ‘You pathetic, scrap-seeking, mangy fox-heart. I am not Firestar. I do not allow my warriors to break the Code and get away with it. I was there when you were born, Crowfeather. I saw how much pain your mother went through- my littermate- bringing you into this world. I witnessed the deaths of your siblings firsthand. I thought then your survival was a miracle, a blessing from StarClan. But I now better now. It was a curse that you lived when your siblings did not. You should have died then.”

Crowfeather stiffened and he heard faint gasps from his Clanmates, as if they had not expected Onestar to say such a thing.

To be fair, Crowfeather thought bitterly, too stunned to speak, neither did I.

Ever since Onewhisker had received his nine lives, ever since he had become Onestar, he had been different. Colder. 

“Onestar-” Ashfoot interrupted, her blue eyes flashing like fire, but Onestar cut her off.

“You think you can get away with everything,” Onestar snarled, “because you are my kin. Because you have two deputies as parents. Because you led us to our new home. But no. You are not above the laws of the code, like Mudclaw might have taught you.”

Crowfeather found his voice again and angrily lashed his tail.

“Mudclaw?’” He spat. “It might have slipped your notice, Onestar, but I fought Mudclaw! I was fighting for you, fighting for your ability to become leader! I fought my mentor for you!”

Onestar looked dissatisfied. “Though, at least Mudclaw was loyal to his Clan.”

The words slammed into Crowfeather like a blow and he stared up at his uncle, at his kin, at his leader, in shock. To his shame he felt the salty sting of tears burn at the edges of his blue eyes. 

“Loyal,” Crowfeather repeated, bitter. “Who saved your rumps from the Twolegs destroying and poisoning the moor? Who crossed untold fox-lengths on the off chance that StarClan had spoken to me and others to save the Clans? Who led us here, to a new home? And you dare to call me disloyal.”

“You took the name of a RiverClan cat,” Onestar said sharply. “You loved her.”

“I didn’t act on it!” Crowfeather snapped, hackles rising. 

I should have, while I had the chance, Crowfeather thought.

“No. You saved that for the medicine cats,” Onestar said coldly.

Crowfeather glanced around desperately, hoping for support, but no one would meet his eyes. Most seemed hostile, though a few seemed awkward. Ashfoot fell into the latter category, staring down at her gray paws, only a few shades lighter than Crowfeather’s.

Crowfeather’s heart sank.

This is what I suspected. This is why I’ve been so miserable. No one in WindClan truly cares about me. They only saw me as a replacement for my father, and now a disgrace to his memory.

Onestar raised his muzzle to the sky. “I call upon the spirits of StarClan to hear and approve my choice. This cat, Crowfeather, has violated the ways of your code.”

Crowfeather’s fur ruffled uneasily. This sounded like a warrior or apprentice ceremony, but the wording was wrong, and the elders seemed to recognize it- though Rushtail’s eyes were dark with an emotion Crowfeather could not identify.

It’s a banishment ceremony, Crowfeather realized, and he felt crushed.

I may have been miserable here, but this was my home. Now I’m going to be homeless yet again. And I’ll be all alone…I won’t even have Brambleclaw, Squirrelflight, or Tawnypelt with me. I’ll be nothing more than a rogue. 

“In tradition with your practices, and with our own, I hereby exile Crowfeather from WindClan and WindClan territory,” Onestar announced.

Ashfoot flinched. Crowfeather couldn’t feel much sympathy for her. She had spoken up earlier, but now, when he needed it, she was silent. So much for the love of a mother.

“If we see you on your territory again, WindClan warriors will have reason to attack you,” Onestar finished.

Feeling like he’d been doused in ice-cold water, Crowfeather dipped his head, and turned his back on his former Clan. Some cat started to speak, but Crowfeather sped up his walking and was outside of the camp before they could speak.

Crowfeather inhaled the chilly moorland air sharply, his eyes burning. He was Clanless. He’d been exiled. He wasn’t a warrior.

Crowfeather padded further away from the camp, his heart in his paws.

Oh, Feathertail, he thought wretchedly. What do I have to live for now? I have no cats to aid, to protect. My life is meaningless now.

He remembered when he had flung himself towards the monsters in ShadowClan territory back in the forest, and he wondered if he could do something like. Maybe throw himself into the lake.

Then Feathertail and I can be together and I can finally be happy again.

“Crowfeather?” A worried mew broke into his thoughts.

Crowfeather blinked. He was standing…somewhere. He wasn’t quite sure where, but he was awfully close to the lake.

“That is your name, right?” A white tom, muscular and scarred, stood in front of him and peered at him closely. His paws and ears blended into the shadows perfectly.

Crowfeather stared at the tomcat in shock. “Blackstar?”

“Ah, you speak,’ Blackstar said brusquely. “I was worried you’d somehow cut off your tongue.”

Crowfeather blinked and looked around him. “Where am I?”

Blackstar flicked his tail. “Three tail-lengths from the lake, like any cat can be.” He blinked at Crowfeather. “No rules are being broken.”

Crowfeather would feel relieved, but with everything that had happened he had no positive emotions to summon.

“You look miserable,” Blackstar meowed bluntly. 

“I was exiled from WindClan,” Crowfeather admitted, peering back out at the lake.

Knowing Blackstar’s reputation, Crowfeather half expected him to either lecture hin or to attack him. He definitely did not expect Blackstar to soften. 

“Ah,” Blackstar meowed, unusually gently. “That explains that. I recognize that face.”

Crowfeather remembered vaguely that Blackstar, back when he had been Blackfoot and deputy, had been exiled alongside Brokenstar after the tyrant had been driven out of ShadowClan. 

Blackstar sighed deeply. “You will walk a difficult path,” Blackstar meowed. “You will have great trouble ahead of you. But you will find your way. Whether that leads you to another Clan, back to WindClan, or to something beyond, does not matter. You will survive either way.”

Wow, Crowfeather thought, somewhat buoyed. That kind of sounds like something Firestar would say. It’s very inspiring.

Blackstar caught his expression and flicked his shoulder playfully with his tail-tip. “If you tell Firestar or Leopardstar I said that, I will skin you and feed you to the frogs.”

“Oh no, frogs,” Crowfeather deadpanned. “My worst nightmare.”

Blackstar snorted and Crowfeather felt a flash of pride that he had made the stoic warrior crack. That was not something many cats could say.

“Why are you out here?” Crowfeather asked after a few heartbeats had passed.

“I do not sleep,” Blackstar replied.

Crowfeather stared at him. “...what?”

Blackstar shrugged. “Unless you count when I pass out from exhaustion.”

Crowfeather stared at the ShadowClan leader in disbelief. “How in StarClan are you still alive?”

Blackstar glanced out at the lake. “Because they aren’t done with me,” he meowed. “Like they aren’t done with you.”

He glanced back at Crowfeather, eyes glowing. “I must head back to ShadowClan before Russetfur thinks I tried to drown myself in the lake or got myself kidnapped. If we do not meet again, may StarClan light your path.”

Crowfeather dipped his head, his respect for the ShadowClan leader rising. “And you, Blackstar. Tell Tawnypelt I said farewell.”

Blackstar nodded at him and began to pad away, as silent as death. And Crowfeather glanced one more time at the lake- the lake he and the others had suffered so much to find- before turning around and walking away.

Farewell, Squirrelflight, Crowfeather thought. You were a pain in the tail, but you were a good friend. Goodbye, Brambleclaw. You were a bit of a bossy furball, but you are a good leader. You will make a good deputy for ThunderClan. I hope you two have good, long lives, and never have to know the pain of leaving your Clan behind again.

Chapter Text

Crowfeather shivered. Rain pelted down from the sky, flattening his dark-gray fur down to his skin and making him feel like a half-drowned rabbit. He had gotten himself out from the lake territories, but he did not know where to go from here. 

Should he go to the Tribe? Stormfur was there, and so was Feathertail’s grave.

But do I really want to go back? Crowfeather wondered. Do I really want to become a Tribe cat, and live where Feathertail sacrificed her life for mine?

Crowfeather could not imagine him ever fitting in there. 

Being called Crow Who Cries at Dusk or Feather of Crow at Midnight or any kind of Tribe name would be really weird. It…feels wrong. It’s not me. I have nothing waiting for me in the Tribe except painful memories, not like Stormfur has Brook. 

Crowfeather sighed, slumping over. All he wanted to be a warrior. And yet he never would be, never again. He was now just a rogue. 

I’ll never start calling myself Crow, though, Crowfeather thought bitterly. I’ll never stoop that low.

Crowfeather glanced at the sun. It was setting, turning the sky the color of blood. A thrill ran through Crowfeather as an idea popped into his head.

The sun-drown-place! I can go looking for it again. Maybe Midnight will let me stay with her, even though I wanted to attack her when I first met…

The journey would be hard. It had been difficult finding the sun-drown-place even with other cats with him, and Crowfeather was all alone now. Crowfeather lifted his muzzle.

“I will find a way,” He vowed to the firstborn StarClan spirits appearing in the sky. “I will find the sun-drown-place…or somewhere else where I can live.”

He wouldn’t travel at night. At least not tonight. He was too tired to do so. Instead, he curled up on the grass beneath a bush and let sleep overcome him. But yet he dreamed.

He stood beneath a thunderstorm, rain pouring down as the lightning crackled in the dark and starless sky. Cold water flowed over his paws, making Crowfeather grimace. A black-and-white she-cat stood before him, barely visible, her pale blue eyes the color of ice. No stars shined in her fur, and yet Crowfeather knew this was a dead cat- one who walked in a different set of stars than StarClan.

Like Feathertail, he thought, his heart twisting.

“Hello,” he mewed respectfully. “What do you need from me?”

The she-cat said nothing and just blinked at him, her icy gaze slightly unnerving. Suddenly, after a few heartbeats of silence, she opened her jaws and began to speak.

“Shelter at the eye of the storm,” she meowed. “You will succeed where all have failed before you, and the petals of the Blazing Star will grow at your paws.”

Thunder clashed and Crowfeather jolted awake with a start. It was still raining- he could hear the water hitting the leaves of the bush where he had taken shelter the day before. His dream spun around and around in his mind.

Shelter at the eye of the storm. What in the world does that mean? What storm? How would I even get to the center of a storm anyway? And the Blazing Star…

Crowfeather vaguely remembered stories about a sickness sweeping through the newly created Clans, dividing them, and a prophecy about the Blazing Star urged them to unite.

But what is it? Is it a plant? Is it a cat? Is it a creature like Midnight? Is it a place?

But if it were a plant, or a place, it was almost certainly back at the old forest territories…and probably destroyed by the Twolegs. Crowfeather clawed the grass, scowling with frustration. Why couldn’t StarClan be actually helpful for once instead of being obscure and vague?

He flattened his ears and glanced at the sky. What should he do? How would he find a direction to go?

Let’s follow the setting sun, he decided, towards the sun-drown-place. I have nowhere else to go, it’s my only idea, and if StarClan really wants me to go into the eye of the storm, they’ll find a way.

Crowfeather slipped out from under the bush, his fur getting soaked instantly once more as he began padding in the direction he knew the sun set. 

Hopefully I don’t regret this decision later, like I regret leaving with Mothwing and Leafpool, Crowfeather thought as he crossed water-slicked grass.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Nightcloud had been pressuring him into having a relationship with her, despite Crowfeather displaying no interest in the older black she-cat, and the entire Clan had seemed to be on Nightcloud’s side. Why they couldn’t understand that a cat could say no, or that Crowfeather was done with love after losing Feathertail, he had no idea, but the pressure had been so damned heavy it had felt like Crowfeather had had the world on his shoulders. 

Crowfeather, irritable, had been at his breaking point. He wasn’t Deadfoot reborn, for StarClan’s sake, and just because both his parents were deputies and he was related to both Onestar and Tallstar didn’t mean his Clan should have treated him this way. So, when Mothwing and Leafpool had asked him, he had been glad to get away from his kin and all of their expectations. But now he just felt completely alone, and he regretted ever believing Mothwing and Leafpool’s naive promises.

Even during the first journey to the sun-drown-place and back, he’d had Brambleclaw, Squirrelflight, Stormfur, Tawnypelt, and Feathertail. On the Great Journey, when he had gotten his warrior name, he’d had most of them as well as his own kin- with the exceptions of beautiful Feathertail, dead and forever wandering the Tribe of Endless Hunting where Crowfeather would never see her again, and Stormfur, who had finally learned to fight for who he loved.

Now, on a much more permanent journey, Crowfeather was utterly alone, and he felt less like the son of two of WindClan’s deputies and more like a bedraggled half-drowned lapwing. 

Crowfeather glanced up at the starry warriors of Silverpelt as they began to fade into dawn, the stars reflected his dark blue eyes. But they seemed cold and distant, judgmental, and silent; his journey was up to him.

Crowfeather flicked his tail, his eyes narrowing with determination.

Watch me, StarClan. I’m going to do it. I’ll find shelter at the eye of the storm somehow and discover what in the world the Blazing Star is and make it bloom. And I’ll do it even though I am all alone. I’ll make you proud, Deadfoot, at long last- by being myself.

Chapter Text

https://www.canva.com/design/DAG1nR0iOQw/4G_C2vR9bBYqjz4Jew09yA/view?utm_content=DAG1nR0iOQw&utm_campaign=designshare&utm_medium=link2&utm_source=uniquelinks&utlId=hcf5101815a

Chapter Text

Crowfeather hared across the Thunderpath, entirely focused on crossing. And yet he forgot to take into account the recent rain; the black smoothness underpaw was slippery, unlike its normal dryness. So, he stumbled.

Days had passed since his exile and he had covered a lot of ground in the direction of the sun-drown-place (or so he hoped), but he was tired. He was hungry- there wasn’t much prey to be found, at least not where he was wandering. Because of this he made a mistake…he had crossed without looking.

So he did not see the monster coming for him until it was far too late. He glanced up, nose and ears twitching as the rancid smell of the Thunderpath grew even stronger, and froze as the piercing yellow eyes of a monster burned into his soul while the monster itself barrelled towards him. He barely had time to realize what was coming before darkness descended and pain ripped through him, as sharp as a fox’s teeth.

When he blinked open his eyes, he was laying on the Thunderpath. The warm, sticky smell of blood clotted his nose, originating from too many places on his body. 

What happened? Crowfeather wondered blearily, but then he remembered.

He’d been hit by a monster. Damn. Crowfeather tried to stand, knowing he needed to move and find shelter to tend to his wounds, but his left leg screamed out in agony, feeling as if it had been set on fire, and he only managed to collapse. 

He gritted his teeth and turned his gaze towards his leg. If he knew what he was dealing with, perhaps he could treat it. When he saw it, his breath quickened in his chest and he flattened his ears against his head, fear rippling down his spine.

His front left leg was a bloody, mangled mess. Crowfeather was not a medicine cat, but it was obvious to even him that this leg would never function properly again. 

I’ll never run again. It’s not enough that I’m no longer a member of WindClan…now I can’t even be one in spirit.

Crowfeather’s eyes burned and he dragged himself off of the Thunderpath, tumbling into soft grass with a faint yet painful thump. Distantly he heard Twolegs mewing almost anxiously, possibly the ones that had been in the monster that hit him.

Damn right, Crowfeather thought viciously, forcing himself onto three paws, his left leg curled against his chest and making him shakier than he would prefer to be. Feel guilty, you StarClan-cursed rabbit-brains. You did this to me. You took a part of me away, and I hate you. 

Crowfeather stumbled away from the Thunderpath, his vision blurry and his three uninjured paws shaking. Pain and exhaustion swept over him like the raging currents in the gorge of WindClan’s old home, and he knew he wouldn’t make it very far. He’d collapse again any moment, and he didn’t know if he would get back up again.

I don’t want to die! He wanted to cry to the silent stars. I want to live! I want to make Deadfoot proud of me! I want to find who I am without WindClan, without the expectations. 

But eventually, as he sank down underneath a bush, his vision turning black, Crowfeather thought that it didn’t matter what he wanted. StarClan didn’t care. No cat did, living or did. When he finally closed his eyes and let the chilly darkness sweep away his pain at last, he felt like he had never been so alone.

Crowfeather opened his eyes and found himself under the same tree he had been last night. He stood up, shocked to feel no pain, but then he saw himself. His body was sprawled, motionless, beneath the roots of a bramble bush, his eyes closed. When Crowfeather looked down at himself, not at the body but at him, he found that his paws were translucent and left no imprint upon the ground.

I’m dead, he thought, horrified. That injury killed me.

“You’re not dead yet,” a voice meowed behind him.

Crowfeather turned around, ears pricked. The black-and-white she-cat he had seen in his earlier dream sat behind him, her tail curled over her paws and her ice-blue eyes gleaming. Stars gleamed in her fur, noticeably missing from Crowfeather’s own.

“Yet,” Crowfeather echoed.

“You are close to death,” the she-cat conceded. “But not quite gone. That, Crowfeather, is up to you.”

“It might be kinder for him to let go, Galestar,” a dark gray tom meowed, stepping out of the shadows, familiar eyes glowing and his twisted paw.

Crowfeather’s heart ached. “Deadfoot.”

He’d never met his father in life, but he had seen him enough times in dreams for him to recognise him.

His father padded over to him and pressed his muzzle against the top of Crowfeather’s head. “You’ve been through so much,” Deadfoot mewed softly. “You deserve peace.”

Galestar glared at Deadfoot, lashing her tail. “He can find peace if he lives! He doesn’t have to die for that to happen!”

Deadfoot snorted. “Really? What kind of life would he have, Galestar? I know what it is like to live with an useless limb. That made it hard enough for me to do my duties as a warrior, with my whole Clan behind me. As a rogue, life would be even worse. And what about infection? What about hunting? He’s not used to three legs. How long would he last? He’s a good warrior, but he hasn’t had the time to adjust to his disability the way I did.”

Deadfoot had a good point. He’d had an entire life to train with his three stronger paws, and he’d had an entire Clan behind him. Crowfeather had neither, as well as no medicine cat to fight for him if his wounds got infected, and that made things riskier.

Galestar glanced at Crowfeather briefly before looking back at Deadfoot. “Your son has the heart of a warrior,” she meowed, eyes glowing like shards of the Moonstone. “He will not be a rogue for very long.”

“Even if he finds your missing Clan, who knows what shape they’re in? You gave up watching them to hunt with StarClan, Galestar.”

Another Clan? Crowfeather wondered, narrowing his eyes. One that’s missing? Could that be what my prophecy’s about: Shelter at the eye of the storm. You will succeed where all have failed before you, and the petals of the blazing star will grow at your paws. Does that mean I’ll find them and bring them to the other Clans? Does that mean I’ll find happiness there, with these cats?

“My kits needed their father in life,” Galestar said sharply. “They needed him just as much in death. But I did my duty in life, Deadfoot, and now I will do it once more in death…as should you. My Clan needs your son, Deadfoot, you know that; as a member of StarClan, you ought to do what is best for all the Clans.”

Deadfoot pulled away from Crowfeather and stared into his son’s eyes. “This is your choice,” Deadfoot murmured. “Remember, I will be proud of you no matter what. If you choose to die, you’ll come back with me to the StarClan sitting watch over the lake, and face countless seasons of peace. If you choose to live…you’ll lose your leg and face countless hardships.”

“I’ve already lost my leg,” Crowfeather meowed in confusion.

“No, you haven’t,” Deadfoot told him. 

“You won’t be alone,” Galestar meowed. “Two cats are coming for you.” She turned her muzzle and Crowfeather saw the pale light of pre-dawn illuminate two cats, standing not far outside of the bush.

He could barely hear them speak. 

“A crow,” a she-cat’s voice muttered. “How in StarClan’s name are we supposed to find a crow here?”

“There, there,” a tom meowed, completely unsympathetic and teasing. “I’m sure you’ll find it, Rushfreckle, with your oh-so-talented skill for finding bird droppings.”

“Shut up, Lakespots.”

“They will guide you,” Galestar promised, “if you choose to live. They will take you to your new beginning.”

Crowfeather stared at the two living cats with warrior’s names, his heart aching and longing sweeping through him. He glanced back at Deadfoot.

“I don’t want to die,” he whispered. “The lake isn’t my home any more…not even with StarClan.”

Deadfoot’s eyes shimmered. “Then may you find happiness in struggle,” he meowed.

“Rushfreckle! I smell something! A cat came this way!” Lakespots mewed, padding towards the bush with his nose

As he came closer Crowfeather was able to see that the tom was a light gray tabby with blue eyes, an odd leaf tucked behind one ear. Behind him was Rushfreckle, who was a thick-haired white tabby she-cat with hazel eyes. The two seemed very similar- siblings, definitely, if not littermates. The two cats ducked under the bush, joining Crowfeather, Deadfoot, and Galestar- though the living cats were unaware of the other cats.

Rushfreckle’s eyes widened. “The crow! Look at his fur…he looks like a crow.”

Lakespots nudged Crowfeather’s prone body. “He’s dead. How can he be the one we were supposed to find?”

Deadfoot nudged him. “Go,” he urged. “It’s now or never, if you wish to live.”

Crowfeather blinked at his father, hoping his love shown in his eyes, before closing his eyes and letting the darkness start to sweep over him. 

“Remember that I love you,” Deadfoot murmured.

“Have strength,” Galestar urged. “You will need it in the days to come.”

Then Lakespot’s voice, soft, speaking familiar words, was the last thing Crowfeather heard before the darkness swallowed him whole. “May you find swift running, good hunting, and shelter where you sleep.”

Soon after that, pain overcame Crowfeather’s senses once more. He could smell the sticky, harsh scent of blood. He felt the grass beneath him, felt the brambles pricking at his fur. His heart beat steady in his ears and with great effort, he opened his eyes.

“Holy StarClan,” Lakespots screeched. “He’s alive!”

Rushfreckle’s eyes widened. “Wow.”

“My name’s Crowfeather. I think…StarClan sent me to you.”

Chapter Text

Lakespots glanced down at the cat, and then at Rushfreckle. His sister nodded, telling him to let the tom speak. Lakespots then looked back at the dark gray tom, whose leg was bloody and obviously wounded severely, and thus not likely to be a threat.

“How do you know about StarClan?” Lakespots asked.

The dark gray tom’s blue eyes shimmered and Lakespots could almost see the stars themselves reflected in them. “My name is Crowfeather. I used to be a Clan cat. StarClan was something that was very important to my Clan.”

Another Clan.

Surprise shimmered down Lakespots’ spine. The tom couldn’t be lying- Crowfeather was a Clan name. But Lakespots had thought there were no other followers of the warrior code in reality, though the elders sometimes spoke of other Clans- mostly WindClan and ThunderClan.

“Two dead cats guided me here,” Crowfeather continued.  “My father…and a she-cat. Her name was Galestar.”

Shock flared in Lakespots’ body and his fur bushed out. Galestar was one of the legendary founders of StormClan and if Crowfeather really had spoken to her…what he said was true and StarClan really had sent him here, right into the paws of Lakespots and Rushfreckle.

“Galestar?” He demanded. 

Crowfeather nodded. “I assume she led your Clan?”

Rushfreckle eyed him thoughtfully, almost disbelieving. “She did, once, alongside her traitorous excuse of a mate Stripestar. But he left her and their kits to die in the highstones, and no cat has seen her spirit since.”

Crowfeather sat up, pain flaring in his blue eyes but not making a sound. “You don’t believe me,” he stated. 

“It is hard to believe,” Lakespots conceded, but between Crowfeather’s name and his knowledge about StarClan, surely there was very little chance the wounded tom was lying.

“She was a black-and-white she-cat and her eyes were the color of ice,” Crowfeather snapped, eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

“That does sound like her,” Lakespots told his sister. 

“True,” Rushfreckle conceded reluctantly. She glanced at Crowfeather. “We believe you.”

Crowfeather looked relieved. He dipped his head. “Thank you.”

“Rushfreckle,” Lakespots whispered. “Look at his leg. You trained to be a medicine cat, once. What do we need to do?”

Rushfreckle sniffed at the dark gray tom-cat’s wounded leg. “Cobwebs to stop the bleeding. Poppy seeds as well, for the pain. It’s going to hurt."

The fur stood up on Lakespots’ spine. “It’s going to hurt?”

Rushfreckle meowed on as if she hadn’t heard her brother speak. “We don’t want to risk infection.”

“You’re going to do an amputation? Here?” Lakespots gasped.

Rushfreckle gestured with her tail at Crowfeather’s wounded leg. “Look how bad that is. Trying to wait for it to heal won’t do it anything, because it won’t. When I was training, I saw Thunderpath injuries. If we leave the leg, use bindweed and sticks, he’ll be limping for the rest of his life, and it will cause chronic pain. An amputation is risky, but it will give him the best quality of life.” Rushfreckle turned to Crowfeather. “Are you alright with me removing the leg?”

Crowfeather nodded, dark blue eyes set with determination. 

“Right,” Rushfreckle mewed briskly. “Let me look over that leg. Lakespots, go find oak leaves as well as what I described earlier.”

Lakespots nodded and padded out from under the bramble bush, thorns scraping against the fur on his back. He glanced around and narrowed his eyes at a dead oak tree in the distance. That would be a good place for dried oak leaves and cobwebs.

He loped towards the tree, setting a good pace and arriving there quickly. He breathed a silent prayer to StarClan as he pressed several cobwebs into his fur and picked several dried and discarded oak leaves off of the ground with his mouth. He turned to go back but then realized that the leaves should be cleaned off before being placed on Crowfeather’s wound.

He glanced around and found a small, clear stream a little farther away. He went over there and dipped the oak leaves in the water before taking the dripping leaves and the cobwebs stuck to him back to his sister.

“Good,” Rushfreckle said, pleased. “Give me those.” 

Lakespots pulled the cobwebs off of him and gave them to Rushfreckle before handing over the oak leaves. Rushfreckle chewed them up in her mouth into a poultice and then placed them on Crowfeather’s bloodied leg where the wound met his healthy flesh, making the dark gray tom hiss from pain. Rushfreckle flicked her tail at Lakespots, clearly telling him to hurry up and get the other things she had asked for. Lakespots went as requested and brought back three poppy seeds wrapped in a leaf.

“Good,” Rushfreckle said, wrapping cobwebs around Crowfeather’s wound and pressing the poultice down. “Give me those.”

Lakespots compiled and Rushfreckle nudged two of the poppy seeds towards Crowfeather.

“Eat those,” she mewed, and Crowfeather complied, his blue eyes glazing over but not closing completely.

She glanced at Lakespots. “You should probably go. It’s about to get very bloody in here.”

Lakespots complied and crouched down two-reindeer lengths away from the bramble bush, his ears pricked for any signs of danger. But moments passed and the sun began to set and there was nothing but silence.

Lakespots suddenly heard pawsteps and turned around to see Rushfreckle padding out of the bush, her claws bloodied.

“How did it go?” He mewed.

“Well,” his littermate replied, sitting down next to him and grimacing at the blood on her claws. “It was a success. We’ll just have to keep an eye out for infection. Thank StarClan Dappleheart told me about forest herbs before we left- they’re not quite like the ones we use back at the fjord.”

Lakespots glanced at the bush anxiously. “Do you think he’ll be able to keep up on the journey?”

“Nacrespots says that Specklestar’s predecessor was missing a leg, and he did just fine,” Rushfreckle pointed out.

“Yeah, well, Oysterstar never had to complete a journey like this, did he?” Lakespots asked. 

“Not as an adult, no,” Rushfreckle conceded. “He was an apprentice when StormClan was founded and Galestar was lost. He still had his leg back then. But Crowfeather’s young and healthy and if we’re there to help him adjust and prevent infection, he’ll do fine. One leg less does not make a poor warrior. Remember Snowscar? His lack of hearing didn’t stop him from being a member of the Clan.”

Lakespots nodded; the beloved elder had passed away only a few moons ago. He had been in the Clan almost all of Lakespots’ life, a white tom with blue eyes and talon scars on his shoulders, after wandering into the territory one day and pleading sanctuary. StormClan had devised signs for him, but even then no one knew his story other than a hawk had taken him from his mother at a young age and later dropped him into a river, where he was accidentally saved by an otter and he grew up there until his foster family died and then he went wandering for a new home.

“You’re right,” Lakespots sighed.

I’ll just need to be extra vigilant with him. Make sure he doesn’t fall too behind or fall over or anything. I can do that. I can treat him like I would have treated my kits.

His heart ached at the reminder of his six kits, all who had been lost, along with his mate, shortly after the arduous birth. He still missed them, even a season after their loss.

Skykit.

Harekit.

Lynxkit. 

Foxkit.

Whalekit. 

Eaglekit.

And poor, beautiful Eidertail…how I miss you all.

“As I always am,” Rushfreckle purred, nudging Lakespots’ shoulder with her muzzle and making him roll his eyes, but also distracting him from his grief.

“Salmon-breath,” Lakespots muttered.

“Jellyfish-brain!” Rushfreckle retorted cheerfully.