[TB] TWILIGHT -- Chapter 15 (Patreon)

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Shadepool opened her eyes to a wall of snow.

She groaned. The vines that she and Dustpelt had wrapped around her nest the day before had sheltered her from the worst of the blizzard, but she was still staring into a curtain of white so tall that it would touch her belly when she stood.

The sky above was clear - at least that meant no more snow, for now. The air was bitterly cold, a sharp contrast to the brief thaw of a few days ago that almost seemed like it hadn't happened. Shadepool wanted newleaf to come more than anything.

She got up and began trying to clear a path out of her den and to the medicine cat cave. She shivered - the snow was powdery but thick as she put pressure on it, making digging annoying. When she was done, her claws felt like icicles, and her belly fur was stringy with clinging snow.

Shadepool shook out her pelt and peeked out from her little corner of the camp. The rest of ThunderClan was awake, attempting to plow paths through the clearing themselves. She saw Graystripe shake his thick, snow-clogged coat onto Dustpelt, who cursed him to StarClan and back. Shadepool purred in amusement - at least some cat was having fun in this weather.

She ducked into the medicine cat cave, wondering what Brackenfur wanted her to do. This was the last day of her punishment - tonight was the half-moon, and they would journey to the Moonpool tonight.

Her paws tingled at the thought. She was excited to have her life back but nervous, too: Would Brackenfur even want to go to the Moonpool if there was some chance they might be ambushed like Onewhisker and Barkface? There was no way he wouldn't want to talk to StarClan, right?

He told Tinystar not to go, though, Shadepool thought, padding into the cave. Normally, Brackenfur is all for talking with StarClan.

The earth was chilly beneath her paws, but the stone walls insulated the rest of the cavern from the outside world, keeping the temperature slightly warmer than outside in the forest. The puddle at the back of the den was ringed with snow that had come in from the hole above.

Brackenfur was still in his nest, asleep. He was curled up tight, his fur fluffed against the chill. Shadepool watched him sleep, uncertain if she should wake him - he'd been so tired lately, and he might need this rest if he was to make it to the Moonpool tonight.

Instead of waking him, Shadepool wrapped up and stored the soaked bark from the day before. The shelter from the cave roof had kept them from becoming icy and brittle, but Shadepool doubted they would be much use as bindings for wounds until they could get some warm sunlight to ease them.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey come beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting!”

Shadepool pricked her ears. Her father's voice bounced off of the cave walls, making her fur prickle. She glanced down at Brackenfur and saw that he had not stirred at the sound. Very unusual.

Concerned, Shadepool put a paw to his nose. He was breathing normally, and his temperature was acceptable. Shadepool was worried, but at least it wasn't greencough. He must be having a good dream.

Deciding not to bother him, Shadepool padded out of the cave to attend the meeting.

The clearing was mostly swept of the loose snow by now, and Shadepool picked her way across a bumpy layer of packed whiteness to the dark shadow of the Highledge where they had decided the medicine cats should sit.

It felt strange, being here all alone. Was this the first time? Shadepool curled her tail around her paws to drive off the cold and tried to keep a level head, knowing that her Clanmates would look to her as much as Tinystar for what they ought to expect from this meeting.

Some cats were already gathered, but the rest trickled reluctantly out from the shelter of their dens, complaining about the snow and the chill. Ferncloud was smart enough to stay near the nursery, while Snowstep. Mousefur and Dustpelt were at the forefront of the Clan, with Swiftfoot, Cloudtail, Brightheart, and their daughter Whitewing just behind. Spiderpaw and Larchpaw flanked them, both looking sleepy and cold.

“Do you know what this is about?” Larchpaw wondered, signing with his paws and tail as he spoke.

Spiderpaw puffed out her chest, eyes shining. “Maybe it's my warrior ceremony!” she breathed. Behind them, Longtail snickered, his ears twitching at their words.

Larchpaw looked distressed. “But then I'd be all alone!” he complained.

“Hush,” Mousefur hissed. She looked at the apprentices crossly, her own most of all: “Spiderpaw, you're not becoming a warrior until I give the say-so!”

“Aw,” Spiderpaw's shoulders fell, and she looked upset.

“This is about the ambush yesterday, right?” Sootfur mewed as he slid into the conversation. His fur was fluffed along his spine. “WindClan needs to pay for what they did!”

Dustpelt curled his lip. “Tinystar did say he would talk about it after the blizzard...”

The rest of the Clan settled into a mix of grumbles - some were muttering that WindClan needed to step off, like Dustpelt and Swiftfoot. Still, others were concerned and anxious about WindClan cats lying in wait on their territory.

Shadepool shivered. She spotted Ashfur talking in Sootfur's ear, and the two were nodding along with one another. Sun looked nervous, but Sorreltail put her tail around her mate's shoulders to reassure her. Silverstream and Graystripe chatted privately, and Graystripe's eyes were dark with emotion. Cinderpelt padded up to Dustpelt and sat beside him, sighing worriedly as she lapped her tongue against his shoulder.

Shadepool looked up at the Highledge, seeing only a little bit of her father as he stood at its edge. He must be about to address what had happened, but how?

Lowering her muzzle, she spotted Nightfrost. He was with Mistyfoot and Rainwhisker, and he took a moment to stretch out his neck and sniff at the fresh wound above his friend's eye. He said something to Mistyfoot, who nodded back.

Hesitantly, she pressed against the thorn barrier in her mind, craving to know what they were discussing. All she got was a sharp look from Nightfrost as if to say, Ask me yourself.

Shadepool pulled back, disguising her stung expression with a shift in her paws.

“Cats of ThunderClan, we all know what happened yesterday evening,” Tinystar finally began. “To refresh you all, it seems that a small patrol of WindClan warriors crossed the Divide and ambushed Rainwhisker, Whitewing, and Nightfrost. Thankfully, no one was seriously injured.”

“Cowards!” hissed Sootfur. Beside him, Ashfur spat on the ground, as if a WindClan cat were lying there.

Similar grumblings emerged from around them. The hostility in her Clanmate's eyes was a sharper chill than even the leafbare air.

Tinystar held up his tail for silence. “We need to consider our position very carefully - any retaliation from our side may be met with a declaration of war, and this could have just been two headstrong warriors wanting to cause trouble.”

“Can't we talk to Mudstar?” suggested Graystripe, hopefully.

“That's what normal Clans do in times like this, Gray,” Silverstream grumbled. Her striped tail twitched irritably. “Mudstar isn't normal.”

“Yes, but he can't be without reason!” Graystripe insisted. “He should know that provoking us isn't the right answer - and if he didn't know what his warriors did, he should!”

“He's right,” Cinderpelt agreed. Her thick neck fur was ruffled. “In leafbare, it's best for everyone to keep a conflict like this cold, rather than stir up trouble.”

“I wish I could talk to him,” Tinystar sighed. Shadepool imagined her father looking as tired as he sounded. “But WindClan has closed their borders - even trying to speak to them is going to look like an act of aggression.”

“So we just do nothing?” Dustpelt growled, flattening his ears.

“For now, yes,” Tinystar said decisively.

Dustpelt bristled below, and Swiftfoot and a few other cats muttered annoyedly. Shadepool saw more than one cat's claws flexing in the snow-packed dirt.

Tinystar sighed again. “I said we won't retaliate, and we won't. We must consider that it's leafbare, first and foremost, and we're far less prepared for this season than we've ever been before, because of the Great Journey.”

“He's right,” Shadepool spoke up. All eyes were on her, suddenly, and for a moment, she lost her voice. Taking a deep breath, she continued: “The herbs are dormant, and there won't be anything useable until newleaf. We don't have the plants to treat major battle wounds, so we shouldn't seek out major battles!”

“Or even small ones,” Tinystar added.

“That, too,” Shadepool agreed quickly. To her Clanmates, she reasoned, “Even the smallest scratch can become infected, and we can't treat anything properly without the right medicine!”

Though the loudest cats looked annoyed, Shadepool noted that they were keeping quiet now because of what she had said. She breathed, pleased they had listened without Brackenfur to back her up.

“I will bring up the ambush at the next Gathering,” Tinystar said, “but for now, my orders are these: Leave WindClan alone. If you catch them on our territory, by all means, chase them off per the warrior code - but do no more than that.”

“And if they keep antagonizing us?” Mousefur wondered, her pale gaze skeptical. “What if someone gets really hurt?”

Tinystar shifted up above, sending a bit of snow down to land a mouselength from Shadepool. “Then we will do what we must,” he declared frankly. “You're all dismissed.”

The Clan began to break up, some into little groups to talk, others into their daily patrols.  Shadepool was about to move when she heard her father say: “Shadepool - wait there for me.”

Shadepool took in a breath. What did her father want? She stayed put until Tinystar had picked his way down the Highledge. When his paws hit the packed snow, he sighed, shaking the whiteness off his paws.

“This camp is going to be disgusting come newleaf,” he groaned, approaching Shadepool. “I always get a wet belly...”

Shadepool twitched her whiskers in sympathy at her father's short stature. That he'd approached with a quip instead of a sharp glare proved that he'd forgiven her for what she'd done. She dipped her head in a respectful greeting.

“Thanks for the backup there,” Tinystar told her. His tail whisked. “I know tensions are high, but we can't take any risks. Some cats will never see things that way, though.”

Shadepool glanced over her shoulder. Dustpelt looked grumpy near the nursery, listening to Ferncloud talk about the walls with hunched shoulders.

“He's a good warrior,” Tinystar mused, following her gaze, “and he's never failed to challenge me.”

“He'd make a very annoying deputy,” Shadepool purred in agreement.

Tinystar blinked at her, and Shadepool wished to take her words out of his ears. She hadn't meant to insist that Tinystar choose a deputy; she'd only wanted to make a joke - but StarClan must have been on her side, as her father said nothing of it.

“You and Brackenfur will be going to the Moonpool tonight, won't you?” he meowed instead, his voice tight.

Shadepool nodded. “I hope so. Brackenfur hasn't said anything about it yet.” She glanced towards the vines that screened the medicine cave's entrance from this angle. There was no evidence that Brackenfur had stirred.

He must've taken a poppy seed last night if he's still asleep, Shadepool reasoned. It would make sense since it seemed like his leg was causing him a lot of pain lately - and it had to be a lot of pain if he had dipped into their dwindling poppy supply for himself.

“I know he won't like it, but I'm sending you both with a warrior escort,” Tinystar stated.

Shadepool's ears pricked. “He's not the only one!” she pointed out, shocked. “Tinystar, the half-moon meetings are for medicine cats only!”

Tinystar frowned seriously. “That was before a medicine cat was mauled on the way to speak to StarClan,” he growled.

Shadepool bristled indignantly. “But-!”

“I won't argue on this,” Tinystar interrupted, his ice-blue eyes as sharp as his tone. “They won't step paw past the ridge to the Moonpool, but you're getting an escort, and that's final. If Mudstar or the others have half a mind, they'll do the same thing.”

Shadepool swallowed, her mouth dry. She could only nod, knowing that her father's mind was set - but what if StarClan refused to communicate with them because they had brought unwelcome warriors along? Brackenfur isn't going to like hearing this.

“I have one more thing.” Tinystar's voice lowered. “Just between you and I, Shade...”

Shadepool leaned in close, captivated by the emotion on Tinystar's face. “Yes?”

“Please,” Tinystar breathed, his tone urgent, “try to find Onewhisker. We can't go on like this forever. We need answers.”

Shadepool touched her nose to her father's forehead. “I will,” she promised. She would do anything to relieve even a little of her father's torment, even if Brackenfur thought it was fruitless.

I can do things Brackenfur can't. That he won't.

———————————————————

“An escort?” Brackenfur hissed. “Is he mad?!”

“He wouldn't budge on it,” Shadepool told him, hoping to soothe her mentor's annoyance.

“Does he think we're kits?” Brackenfur growled. His fur bristled along his spine. “I've half a mind to go and give his ears a good raking!”

Shadepool twitched her whiskers in amusement at the thought. She sighed, “Well, you know Tinystar - he does what he wants.”

Brackenfur scoffed, finally pulling himself out of his nest as if his annoyance at his leader had finally given him the strength to do so. His tail lashed, and he grumbled something about how Tinystar wasn't his mentor any longer and had no say in what he did.

Shadepool didn't want to bother him. She had already soured the mood by relaying the meeting to Brackenfur, and his attitude was making things feel a little warmer and brighter - she'd always liked it when he was being the funny kind of grumpy.

“Do we have any juniper?” Brackenfur asked. He was tearing into his meal, which Shadepool had brought to share after the meeting. “My leg will be a pain tonight; I just know it...”

“Juniper is about the only thing we do have,” Shadepool sighed. “That and what sweet-sedge is growing by the water.” Both were some of the few plants that grew throughout leafbare, but neither was as potent as they could be in the blistering cold.

“Get me some for the trip, would you?” Brackenfur rasped.

Shadepool nodded and dipped into the medicine store. The little side-cave was incredibly chilly, but thankfully, they had not encountered any frost. The dried berries were gathered in a pile near the front and sorted by age. She grabbed some of the oldest, checking whether they would be of any use before wrapping them up in birch bark.

She nearly rammed into Sun upon emerging from the store. Shadepool's squeak of shock was stifled by the birch-wrapped package, thankfully.

“Be careful, Sun,” warned Sorreltail with a purr, padding inside after Sun. “Medicine cats never watch where they're going!”

Shadepool put down her package. “What're you two doing here?” she asked.

“We are to be your escort,” Sun declared. She lowered her head and slid one of her forepaws forward, a gesture that Shadepool recognized as one of respect from the Tribe. Shadepool mimicked her, touching one forepaw to Sun's.

“Tinystar chose you two?” Brackenfur mewed, looking up from his meal. He licked his muzzle clean before heaving a sigh. “I suppose he could do worse.”

Sun looked up, her eyes wide with worry as she shuffled her paws back into place.

Shadepool immediately told her, “It's okay - he's just grumpy that we're getting an escort in the first place, Sun. He's not mad at you at all.”

Sun blinked, looking owlish. “Are you sure?”

Shadepool nodded, looking over her Clanmate at Sorreltail, pleading with her gaze for some help here - the Tribe of Rushing Water had no leader or medicine cat, but a healer who played both roles. The enormous reverence that position held had followed Sun down from the mountains, so annoying Brackenfur likely felt like angering her ancestors in the Tribe of Endless Hunting.

“We're sure,” Sorreltail purred, getting the hint. She brushed against Sun's flank. “Don't worry a whisker about it, dear heart.”

Sun sighed, lowering her shoulders. Shadepool guessed that Sorreltail's warm words had worked.

She pushed the birch package forward and offered, “Go give these to Brackenfur, would you?”

Sun dipped her head and picked up the bundle, obeying without a word. When she was gone, Shadepool sidled closer to Sorreltail.

“So, you two talked it out?” she guessed quietly, watching Sun and Brackenfur interact. It was mildly amusing, with Brackenfur looking put off by Sun's overly respectful attitude.

Sorreltail nodded. “Yep,” she purred. Her tail curled over her back. “I thought it would be a hard conversation, but it wasn't. We're closer than ever, thanks to you!”

Shadepool's pelt flashed with warmth. “I'm glad.”

“Did you speak to Nightfrost at all?” Sorreltail wondered.

The warmth disappeared in an instant. Shadepool stared at her paws, conscious of the thorns pressing down around her. “No,” she murmured. “I tried, but he was still angry with me. I think our fight has more going on than just Mistyfoot.”

There was no way she could explain it more than that - not when she was still trying to figure it out herself.

Sorreltail frowned. “That sucks, I'm sorry,” she mewed. The patched she-cat gave her a nudge. “I wouldn't worry too much about it; littermates can't hold out on one another forever.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Sorreltail chuckled assuredly. “Sootfur acts all grumpy sometimes, but it doesn't ever take much to turn him into as much of a goofball as Rainwhisker. He gets like that sometimes.”

Shadepool frowned. “Do you not know what makes him like that?”

Sorreltail shrugged. “It's usually when he wants something,” she admitted. “He'd put on that act whenever he thought Willowpelt or Whitestorm weren't paying enough attention to him.” She leaned close and whispered, “Between you and me, I think he learned it from watching Ashfur.”

Shadepool purred despite herself. Sorreltail's eyes gleamed, and Shadepool felt something odd slide into place in her heart - Sorreltail was happy to talk to her like this. She didn't need to probe around in the other she-cat's mind to understand that - just like Sorreltail hadn't needed to know exactly what was happening in Sootfur's head to understand how he felt and why he felt that way. Was this what Nightfrost had meant?

Warmth returned to Shadepool's pelt. “So, are you two going to have kits?” she asked, nodding at Sun.

Sorreltail's tail bushed out, and she gave Shadepool a playful shove with a paw. “I don't know, maybe?” she sputtered.

“Well, try to wait for newleaf, would you?” Shadepool told her, smiling.

Sorreltail purred. “We'll try.”

“Are you two done gossiping?” Brackenfur's voice came from the back of the cave. “Or have you forgotten how long it takes to get to the Moonpool, Shadepool?”

Shadepool flattened her ears, feeling them grow hot with embarrassment. “Sorry, Brackenfur,” she mumbled. “Are you ready to go?”

Brackenfur rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he said, his voice the embodiment of patience stretched thin.

Sorreltail twitched her whiskers. “Come on, Sun; let's wait for them outside.”

Sun nodded, and the two left the cave. Shadepool heard Brackenfur sigh, a heavy, rasping noise, and he brushed his pelt against hers as he came to meet her.

“How are you feeling?” Shadepool wondered, smelling the juniper on his breath.

“Fine,” Brackenfur told her.

Shadepool didn't know if she believed that, but her mentor seemed to be putting more weight on his leg than he had in the past few days. Perhaps the wet air had been the cause of his aches, or maybe the juniper was working better than she thought. Perhaps he'd just gotten a good night's sleep without worrying about what Shadepool was up to.

Brackenfur touched his nose to her forehead. “I'm glad you've made a friend, Shadepool.”

Shadepool hadn't expected that. She had no idea how to respond.

“Come, let's go,” Brackenfur sighed. “StarClan awaits us.”