[TB] STARLIGHT -- Chapter 31 (Patreon)

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“Shadepool, hurry up! We don’t have all night to wait!”

“S-Sorry!”

Shadepool worked herself across the old cedar, moving as quickly as she dared. Though most of ThunderClan – and RiverClan and ShadowClan, by the smells of things – had already made their way across, proving that the new bridge was safe, Shadepool couldn’t help but want to linger, even if it upset those waiting behind her.

Ashfoot died beneath this tree, she thought dismally, picking her way through the branches. Once, they had held tight to cones and needles; but now, severed from the earth and battered by three whole blizzards since it’s falling, the old gray branches were barren. Now, somewhere beneath a layer of snow was a tuft of gray fur...

Shadepool reached the end, finally, and leaped down. Brightheart landed just behind her, sighing, muttering about young cats these days as she trotted off, nose to the ground.

Not wanting to be in any cat’s way, Shadepool edged away from the end of the old cedar. She took in the island as best as she could – it was a small, forested piece of land cut off from the rest of the lake territories by a narrow channel of water, too deep to simply wade but shallow enough to swim if one was RiverClan.

Once it was thought unusable; now the four Clans had agreed that it would be the new site of their Gatherings.

We chose well, Shadepool thought. She had seen Fourtrees in the old forest, but the island felt private and, most importantly, neutral. She pushed through a ring of dead ferns and into a shallow clearing free of trees or bushes, as if StarClan themselves had cleared them a suitable place to Gather. A great old oak tree stood tall and proud in the center, its roots thick and stable and its big, low branches leafless.

Already, it seemed like the deputies Tawnypelt and Blackfoot had decided the roots to be a suitable spot for them to sit. Shadepool spotted Mothwing and Littlecloud clearing a space for the medicine cats a few paces away, near an old stone caught up by the oak’s roots. Brackenfur limped over to join them.

Shadepool knew she was expected to do the same, but she just couldn’t, not yet. Without WindClan here, the Gathering couldn’t start anyway, and the island was so new, so full of wonder...

She could feel her brother exploring it, Mistyfoot by his side. Through him, Shadepool felt as if she could see every inch of the island, even if she stood alone and unmoving at its center. She felt Nightfrost’s surprise as he found out how cold the lakewater was, Shadepool’s nose chilling over in response.

Using a paw, she rubbed warmth back into her muzzle. Mouse-brain! She thought stubbornly. Always sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, even in the dead of leafbare!

She thought about joining him as he walked around the lake, but the presence of Mistyfoot made it difficult for Shadepool to justify. The last thing she wanted to do was intrude.

“No WindClan?” asked Sootfur as he sat down beside Sorreltail, his sister, and the Tribe she-cat-turned-ThunderClan-warrior, Sun.

“Not a scent of them,” Sorreltail answered. “Even on the way here! It’s like they haven’t bothered to walk around their own territory for a quarter moon.”

Sun was nodding along. “I worry about them,” she mewed. She looked unbothered by the cold. “I hope everything is all right...”

Shadepool flicked an ear, glancing at the old cedar for any signs of new movement. She, too, hoped that WindClan was alright, though not precisely for the same reasons. With each blink, she hoped to see one specific body crossing the tree, though she wondered if he could even stomach it.

Crowflight...

Her heart ached, and then whirled with excitement and worry. The knowledge that he loved her as much as she loved him... it was almost enough to sweep away the creeping fears about breaking not just one code, but two – not only were cross-Clan relationships frowned upon, but medicine cats were absolutely forbidden to have mates.

She glanced over at Brackenfur, who was chatting with Littlecloud. So far, her mentor hadn’t picked up on Shadepool’s feelings for the WindClan tom, or knew that he reciprocated. Shadepool’s heart thudded in her chest at the thought of him finding out.

What would he do?

The full moon arced high in the night sky, and finally it seemed as if the other Clans were unwilling to wait for WindClan. Tinystar, Russetstar, and Leopardstar clambered up the old oak, each finding one of the low-hanging branches to sit upon. From so high up, their eyes looked like pairs of stars caught in the tree’s spindly fingers.

“Cats of all Clans, gather close!” yowled Leopardstar. “The first Gathering upon the island will commence!”

“What about WindClan?” asked Falcontail. He was sitting with his Clanmates on the other side of the clearing. “They’ve not yet arrived!”

Shadepool felt a flash of fury that Falcontail, of all cats, was concerned. You were leading the rebels from the other Clans that tried to tear WindClan apart – what do you care for their well-being? She guessed that the only reason he was allowed at this Gathering at all was because he was Leopardstar’s son, a fact that seemed to justify a lot of his behavior.

“He’s right,” meowed Stoneheart. He sat beside his mate, Rowanclaw, and his friend Pinewhisker among the rest of ShadowClan. “We shouldn’t start without them.”

“I agreed,” Tinystar meowed, staring down at the Clans below with his ice-blue eyes. His dark body made him seem like a shadow clinging to the oak branch. “But we’re running out of moonlight, and it’s the dead of leafbare...”

Shadepool imagined her father making a passionate argument to the other leaders – Onewhisker, the cat to be WindClan’s new leader, was his dear friend. He no doubt wanted to be the first to hail him properly at not just his first Gathering, but the Clans’ first Gathering on the island.

“If WindClan desires to make us wait out in the cold,” Russetstar meowed severely, “they’ll have to pay us in sheep’s wool.”

Leopardstar nodded in agreement. “They’re free to arrive at any time,” she mused. Twisting her tail to gather everyone close, she meowed, “In the meantime – we thank StarClan, and Ashfoot, for this island. May we Gather here in peace for seasons to come, guarded by her spirit.”

Every cat in the clearing went silent, each one dipping their heads in honor of Ashfoot. Shadepool sighed, her heart aching. Ashfoot was the former deputy of WindClan, and Crowflight’s mother – she had died saving both Onewhisker and Mudclaw from the falling cedar, and her body still lay buried beneath it; a grim and permanent reminder of the four Clan's first major battle beside the lake.

As heads popped back up, Shadepool used the opportunity to scurry over to the other medicine cats. She slotted in beside Mothwing, ignoring the disappointed look for her lateness from Brackenfur.

Shadepool smoothed her pelt and asked Mothwing, “What’d I miss?”

“Not much,” Mothwing whispered back. “Just a bunch of herb talk...”

“RiverClan has very little news to share,” Leopardstar meowed. “Our Clan is recovering well from the battle, though Blackclaw still suffers from a persistent cough.”

“He nearly died,” Mothwing gasped, sounding tired. She touched her nose to Shadepool’s ear. “Thanks so much for the tansy.”

“It’s no problem,” Shadepool purred. “That’s what medicine cats do!” Though she hadn’t wanted to help Blackclaw of all cats, ThunderClan territory was the only one that hadn’t lost all its herbs to the blizzards. Regardless of how much Blackclaw had tried to help make WindClan suffer, Shadepool knew she could not be responsible for a cat’s death.

Tinystar had taken up the mantle to speak, now. “Our warriors are also recovering well from the battle – not only that, but Sun has earned her full status as a warrior of ThunderClan!”

“Sun! Sun!” though cats raised their voices in congratulations, more than a few looked baffled that Sun had not chosen a warrior’s name, mostly from the other Clans. Some even dared to look angry.

Tinystar was anticipating it: “Sun abstained from taking a warrior name in order to preserve her heritage as a Tribe cat. I saw no issue with this, and StarClan did not strike her down during her vigil, as it was one of the few nights free of snow. I took that as sign enough that Sun was in the right.”

That seemed to settle the Clans, but she spotted Cedarheart of ShadowClan grumble something into his mate, Finchsong’s ear. Finchsong rolled her eyes and continued chatting in pawspeak with Snowstep. Shadepool couldn’t quite make out what they were talking about, but she guessed it had to do with their kits, who had become friends on the Great Journey. Larchkit, at least, was always asking about visiting ShadowClan.

Russetstar was beginning her announcements, but Shadepool glanced at the old cedar. Were WindClan really not going to be here in time? Her heart filled with dread. What could that mean?

Before she could speculate further, she saw a shape flickering at the end of the cedar – a cat so white they seemed to glow. Shadepool, excited, moved to nudge Mothwing – but when she blinked, the white cat was gone, instead replaced with the wiry moonlit shapes of WindClan.

Russetstar cut off her announcement. “Finally!” she meowed. “WindClan has arrived!”

“Took you long enough,” Leopardstar drawled. She curled her lip. “Did you think we’d wait all night... hm?”

The dappled leader’s ears pricked, her expression changing. Slowly, as the WindClan cats moved through the crowd, Shadepool became aware that every cat around her seemed on some level shocked and stunned. She felt surprise coming off of Nightfrost in waves that tickled her pelt, and Shadepool craned her neck to try and see what the fuss was about.

A dark shape leaped up the old oak and crossed onto one of the branches. From his place, Tinystar lifted his spine and hissed, “What is the meaning of this?!”

"I am taking my place,” Mudclaw responded, his voice a low growl. He was struggling to settle properly on the branch he’d chosen, struggling with a leg that was clearly still injured from the battle. “What does it look like, Tinystar?”

“Where is Onewhisker?” demanded Tinystar.

Shadepool saw her father’s claws slide out. Murmurs of worry clouded the air, and Shadepool felt Nightfrost’s heartbeat accelerate her own. If Mudclaw was standing up with the other leaders, then that meant...

“I am WindClan’s leader,” Mudclaw drawled. “I am Mudstar, by the virtue of StarClan.”

The clearing erupted into chaos.

“How can this be?” Leopardstar demanded, her eyes flying wide. The fur along her spine lifted. “After all you’ve done, surely StarClan would have denied you!”

“They did not,” rattled Ryewhisper. The skinny medicine cat had finally made his way over to the others, and he settled a tail-length away, as if trying to avoid any questioning. His face was lit by the moon as he looked up at Leopardstar. “I sat at his ceremony. Mudstar is leader of WindClan.”

What?! Shadepool searched the crowd for Barkface, for another confirmation, but found that the old brown tom was nowhere to be found.

Mudstar nodded, thanking Ryewhisper for his support. “And Crowflight is my deputy,” he announced.

WHAT?!

This sent the Clans into even more of an uproar.

“He’s had no apprentice!” snarled Cedarheart.

Dustpelt agreed, howling, “You’ve slaughtered the warrior code!”

“He’s a kit!” screeched Brackenflight of RiverClan. Shadepool spotted the gleam of claws. “How dare you insult us all like this!?”

Shadepool looked away and saw him then, the lean, gray-black shape of the cat she loved, crouched down next to Tawnypelt. His dark blue gaze was fixed on the crowd - he didn't dare look her way with all these eyes on him now, all these criticisms being thrown - but she saw his ear flick in her direction and knew that he felt her gaze.

“Do you see StarClan objecting?” Mudstar demanded, raising his voice to a yowl and glaring down at his detractors. His teeth gleamed in the dark. “Do you?!”

Stubbornly, the sky remained clear. The full moon shone down on the clearing, cold and pale and silent. More than one older warrior glared at Crowflight, now. Mudstar's words seemed to quiet the entire group, though not a single cat looked as if they were about to sleep well tonight once they returned home.

Shadepool wasn’t sure she would, either. She remembered her dream of the moorland splitting in two – she thought they had averted that disaster when they’d won the battle and Mudstar had given up; had they only paved the way for it to become reality?

“You still haven’t answered me,” hissed Tinystar. He drew forward on his branch, his claws flashing in the moonlight as he glared icicles at Mudstar. Teeth bared, he demanded, “What happened to Onewhisker?!”

Mudstar glowered at Tinystar. The entire clearing held its breath, waiting for him to speak.

“Onewhisker is dead.”