#starkfeather

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Three: Chapter Seven

(AO3 counterpart here.)

As the clouds moved south, slowly losing their grip on the sky, gradually growing holes exposed the stars and moon. Those reflected in the puddles scattered amidst the grass and occasional patch of flat stone that nature had not yet taken over. It was quiet now, save for the rustle of plant life and the occasional soft drip of a paw leaving water and droplets returning to their pools as the paw lifted up and out.

The petite ginger leader of the Clast, Fernstar, squinted into the dark. Her eyes were fine, but she had the sensation of something dangerous approaching her and her crew as they walked for the Clast settlement. It irked her that she didn’t see anything, but couldn’t shake the feeling off.

“I don’t like it.” The bulky calico, Viceroyclaw, was the one to break the silence. Fernstar’s high deputy was muted, but everyone looked at her all the same. “Something’s wrong.”

“Given that screamin’ we heard…” A dark, grey-brown apprentice just behind her drew in a breath, and his drawl had a lagging anxiety in it. “Ma’am, shouldn’t I go up ahead, see what’s goin’ on?”

The scout-in-training had asked that three times now, and Fernstar returned with her third answer. “I don’t want anyone getting caught in something before we get there.”

They had been a very long ways away from the settlement – just far enough to barely see several mounds of stone – when, through the storm, had come the sounds of battle. Yowls and screeches, riddled with raindrops, shook the entire party, and the patrollers had wanted to run to investigate. Fernstar had stopped them, because fighting of that scale was extremely rare in the Territory and she was not eager to get anyone hurt for an unknown reason. Before long, the noise had died down, but everyone was still unsettled.

Now, they were a minute or two’s walk away from the houses, and Fernstar wanted her whole patrol together in case they needed to make a run for it. Glorypelt had managed to convince her to let him take his apprentice with them on this journey as a test to see if he was ready to earn his name. She was not eager to send the boy into potential danger on his own.

Nothing more was said until they were close enough that two cats leaning against the walls of the houses twitched their ears and looked up at them. One of them got to their feet and nodded to the other, who limped off into the cobweb of stone.

“Thank the stars you’re here,” the cat said when they were within earshot. Fernstar recognized her as Frostclaw, one of the patrollers sent as a relay for the spies. “It all went horrible, Fernstar. It was so sudden…”

“We heard fighting.” Fernstar stopped to dip her head respectfully to the white molly. “Is anyone badly hurt?”

Frostclaw’s eyes squeezed shut with grief. “We lost Striderfoot.”

The Fleet members with Fernstar all gasped or cried out in anger. Only the plain grey molly at Viceroyclaw’s side remained silent. She bowed her head, and Fernstar saw her claws dig into what little earth could be found in the cracks of the stone.

“I’m sorry, Fogpetal, ma’am,” Frostclaw said to this molly. “It all came out of nowhere. Everyone was fighting. It was chaos. And then Striderfoot, she jumped on someone, and her head hit a wall when they fought back…”

 Fogpetal lifted her paw and Frostclaw fell silent. She looked at Fernstar, who gave one curt nod, and stepped forward. “Take me to Shreddednose. The rest of you, stay with Fernstar and Viceroyclaw.”

The Fleet deputy and Frostclaw trotted off and took a right around a corner. Fernstar lead everyone into the settlement.

It was somehow packed full of cats and felt incredibly empty at the same time. There was no laughing or friendly tussling here; cats sat in small clumps of three or four, grooming each other’s wounds or staring ahead mournfully. Some whispered to each other so quietly that Fernstar could not catch what they were saying. It took a long time for anyone to notice the newcomers, and Fernstar was surprised that, even when they did, no one jumped to their feet or greeted them.

“Where is Redheart?” Fernstar called into the clearing.

“Gone,” someone murmured to her left. “She took a bunch of cats and just left.”

Fernstar twisted her neck fast enough to hurt her and she stared at them. “She left?”

The cat lifted a paw and pushed outward. “Walked off with that healer and his brother. Some other cats, too.”

The crew behind Fernstar shuffled and muttered confusion. Fernstar gestured with her tail and they split off in all directions to sniff around and ask questions. Viceroyclaw stuck to her side, as usual.

“The brother of Greyleaf is gone,” Fernstar repeated to the cat. “Who else?”

The cat sighed. “I’unno. An apprentice, that blind molly-“

“Why didn’t you tell me Fernstar was here?!”

Snowshine came skidding around a corner and scrabbled on the stone, rushing to Fernstar and skidding to a stop. She bobbed her head over and over, fur mud-stained and puffed out, looking nothing like the earnest and proper little seer that Fernstar usually knew.

“I’m sorry, Fernstar, I tried to get someone to stop her, I had my suspicions, and I didn’t follow up on them, I should have, I’m sorry-“

Viceroyclaw cleared her throat and Snowshine faltered, tumbling off her rambling with a few half-started words. She fidgeted nervously, looking between the much larger calico and the ginger molly about her size.

Fernstar kept her composure, though she felt agitation sinking into her pelt as it came off of Snowshine in waves. “Slow down and start from the beginning.”

“Of course.” Snowshine nodded quickly and took a breath. “Redheart heard you were on your way – I found out about the mission, I should say, and I was going to help, however I could-“

Fernstar blinked slowly.

“Anyway-“ Snowshine cleared her throat. “She tried to get everyone to leave immediately, but the Clast got angry, and I tried to get her to stay, or at least have someone catch her and keep her here until you arrived, but her traveling crew, they attacked and a fight broke out. She ran with Greyleaf, but she came back, I don’t know why. She was saying nonsense about StarClan and told everyone to follow her if they wanted to know ‘the truth’, and your spies all went with her.”

Fernstar felt Viceroyclaw look at her in surprise, waiting for her reaction. She took a moment to absorb the story before responding. “And where are they now?”

“I don’t know.” Snowshine’s fidgets got more intense. “I told everyone to catch her and Greyleaf, but no one did anything. They took an apprentice and a random warrior with them, but all the spies are gone too – Mistface and the others.”

“And she killed Striderfoot?” Viceroyclaw asked quietly.

“No, someone else did, on accident-“ Snowshine’s fur took on a sharper look, even as puffed out as it was. “But she might as well have. She was trying to get everyone to leave the Territory with her, and she said StarClan is- I couldn’t believe- she said it’s a monster! She’s talking pure madness now!” Snowshine leaned forward, eyes wide enough to pop out of her head. “And that stupid healer agreed with her! So they dragged off six cats, including an apprentice, Fernstar, a child!”

“I heard you the first time,” Fernstar said, trying to restrain the edge in her voice. She looked to Viceroyclaw. “Get some more information from the others.”

Viceroyclaw nodded uncomfortably and reluctantly shuffled off across the clearing. Fernstar didn’t usually force her to talk to others, but she knew that Snowshine’s account was drastically colored.

Someone cleared their throat. “If you like…”

Fernstar turned around. A sleek silver tom had slunk up behind her.

“Who are you?” Fernstar narrowed her eyes. 

He smiled in an as transparently charming way as he could. “My name is Starkfeather, my leader. If you like, I can give you information, too.”

 ---

 “What do you make of it?”

Fogpetal and Viceroyclaw stood together with Fernstar in the center of the clearing. The rest of the patrol had returned with similar stories: Redheart rushing to get everyone out, the patrollers trying to arrest her, a battle engaging, a death, the strange speech about StarClan, and Redheart and Greyleaf departing with six other cats. Starkfeather had provided that the apprentice was a former seer-in-training, daughter of a Hillock seer (“horribly poor apprentice, may I say”), and that she had taken a cat named Flyfang with her.

Fernstar lifted her chin a little, eyes unfocused as she considered her options. The two deputies looked at her curiously, and the rest of the patrol were sitting around Striderfoot’s body, paying their respects.

“It sounds like we’ll need to bring the two of them in for questioning,” Fernstar deliberated. “I want to question the spies as well. Perhaps we don’t need to arrest them, but I certainly need to discuss them breaking on their mission.”

Fogpetal tilted her head in thought. “We did have Darkpelt saying she wanted to see it through. Perhaps they’re keeping an eye on Redheart while getting more information.”

“I’d like to think that.” Fernstar straightened up and turned to walk away, beckoning the other mollies with her tail. They followed her to the patrollers, where not just her party, but the relay patrollers sat in a ring. All of them looked up at her slowly when she cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry for Striderfoot’s death,” she said. “But I think I’ll require the assistance of your party, Shreddednose. We’re going to track this group down and bring them to the leaders’ den, and I don’t know how much they’ll resist.”

A golden tom’s ears slid back and his muzzle wrinkled. “I’d be happy to give that rot deputy some return on what she let happen.”

“Count me in,” Frostclaw added. A couple other cats agreed alongside her.

Shreddednose looked down at Striderfoot. “We need to bury her, before we do anything else.”

“Of course,” Fogpetal said gently. “If I remember right, her request was somewhere in the open.”

Fernstar gave Fogpetal an appreciative look. The Fleet were always like a family, and this deputy had taken great care to get to know each member, of which there were many. It was such a tight-knit group that they usually handled each other’s burials, instead of whatever actual family they had come from. Even Phoebestar, their leader, was much closer to them than any of the other leaders were to their families.

“It was,” Shreddednose said, her voice husky. She cleared her throat and spoke more clearly, but the pain in her eyes did not go away. “If we may, Fernstar-“

“Just a moment.” Fernstar moved forward and touched her nose to Striderfoot’s side. “We thank you for your service, Striderfoot, and we mourn your loss. Rest well in StarClan.”

This leader’s blessing seemed to ease the Fleet members, and slowly they shifted around until Striderfoot was hoisted on several of their backs. The group moved off together, Fogpetal taking the lead.

Fernstar watched them go, feeling some hurt of her own. Not just for the loss of an innocent cat – she silently grieved for the loss of a deputy that had so much promise that Fernstar had expected her to take her place as leader one day, and of a brilliant healer that she had personally voted for to serve the leaders and high deputies.

“Phoebestar is going to be furious,” Viceroyclaw murmured in her ear, bringing her back into focus.

“We’ll send Mintseed to tell her,” Fernstar said quietly. “Or at least relay to another messenger. I want at least one with us to keep the other leaders updated.”

Viceroyclaw nodded. “Boarpaw will be happy to find a relay for us. He’s capable. I think he can track us down again.”

Fernstar said nothing. She just turned to face the majority of the cats and raised her voice.

“If Redheart returns,” she called in the clearing, “I want everyone here to keep her in place and send word to me or the other leaders. Greyleaf gets the same treatment. Do not be violent with them. Just ensure they stay put.”

A soft wave of affirmative mutters, even from the unfamiliar cats that Fernstar could guess had come to venture off with Redheart in the first place. She stood as tall as she could and started off after the Fleet cats, successfully containing the guilt and pain in her chest to her chest, and nowhere else.

[astouract]

Spring Holiday (pt. 1) (Newt x Reader)

Hippogriff gif ❤️"http://38.media.tumblr.com/abb29fee43e63e3524c98f9ed21046a8/tumblr_mq6z6tS6eI1s4v62qo2_250.gif"

Part 2 will be up soon! There may be 4 parts to this little series, I’m not sure quite yet. It was a quiet spring holiday, and you were nestled in an armchair by the window, nobody but the stars outside to keep you company… And the cactii on the shelves, who would wave to you whenever you glanced up at them. The Hufflepuff common room was one of your favorite places to be on school grounds. It was warm, thanks to the fire burning hot in the fireplace across the room, but you still had a blanket draped across your lap. You were one of the only people to stay behind for the holiday, choosing to remain at Hogwarts instead of putting up with your grandmother, who hated you for no known reason. Unlike the Christmas holiday, Easter holiday came along with large amounts of teacher-assigned work in preparation for finals. So there you were, working on Charms prep, the only other Hufflepuff left at Hogwarts asleep in his dorm. “(y/n).” Or not, you thought to yourself. You looked up and saw Newt Scamander walking towards you, the ferns and ivies dangling from the ceiling brushing against his copper-brown hair. The two of you had been best friends ever since your first year, and the feelings that you had for each other were no secret–it was just that neither of you had acted on them. “I thought you were sleeping,” you said, watching as he waved back to a cactus and sat down across from you. “And I thought you were sleeping,” Newt countered, smiling softly. “I wasn’t tired, so I figured I’d get some work done.” You gestured to your papers, spread out across the table. Newt nodded his understanding. “Is it going well?” “I suppose so,” you responded with a shrug. “As well as it can go.” Newt’s blue eyes suddenly flashed with excitement, and he reached across the table for your hand. Electricity coursed throughout your body, but you did your best to act normal so he wouldn’t pull away. “How do you feel about an adventure?” You stared blankly at him. “An adventure? Like what?” You were stuck in the Hufflepuff common room and your dorm for the rest of the night. “Do you mean in your suitcase?” He had somehow managed to sneak his suitcase enchanted with an undetectable extension charm into Hogwarts every year, and it contained a small number of magical creatures from his family trips. “Not in my suitcase. I mean something potentially dangerous,” Newt answered, his thumb brushing across your hand as he pulled away to point at the low window. “Outside. In the forest.“ “How dangerous?” Newt thought for a second. “Fairly, I- I suppose.” You swept your papers up into a single stack and looked up at Newt, who was studying you for a sign of your decision. You suddenly got to your feet, your blanket falling to the floor. “Let me get my cloak.” Sneaking out of the castle was one thing, but sneaking out of the castle to get to the Forbidden Forest? You knew Newt had a strong sense of adventure, but something this mad seemed way beyond the anxious boy. Nevertheless, you had never done many potentially dangerous things, and you trusted Newt more than anything. He was sensible, protective over you, and wouldn’t put you in harm’s way. You pulled your black cloak over your shoulders and followed Newt through the earthy passageway, leaving the cheerful, cozy room behind you. You were light on your feet, determined to keep as quiet as possible. When you exited through one of the barrels piled in the corner of a stony corridor, the two of you slunk past the kitchen and into the rest of the castle. You were both doing fine, darting around corners and evading random professors who were walking from place to place, until Newt’s shoe caught the carpet and he went tumbling forwards. You tried to reach out to him, but it all happened too fast and he hit the ground with a soft thud. “Merlin’s beard,” you murmured, rushing to help him up. Once he got back to his feet, he brushed off his black cloak and grinned at you. “Are you al-” You were interrupted by Newt’s hand clamping over your mouth. He removed it a second later, instead grabbing you by the hand and pulling you into a small closet space that was lacking a door. The space was carved into the side of a large doorway, made from large stone bricks. Not even seconds later, you heard voices coming from the corridor you had just been in. One voice belonged to a man, and you were fairly certain that it was Professor Dumbledore, who taught transfiguration. “Thank you for the tea, Phineas,” you heard Dumbledore say. “Of course,” the other man replied, who you immediately knew was Phineas Negellus, the headmaster. You looked up at Newt, and could tell that you had both just come to the same realization: you were hiding inside Professor Dumbledore’s doorway. Newt’s blue eyes darted to meet yours, and it was then that you realized just how close the two of you were. Pressed together, faces only inches apart, it would be an extremely hard-to-explain situation if you were to get caught. “I will see you tomorrow, then, Phineas?” It was Dumbledore, who was nearing his door. Your heart felt as though it would beat right out of your chest, and you held your breath when you heard his footsteps right around the tiny corner. There was no way he would walk into his study and not see the two of you there! Newt released your hand and you felt him reach inside of his cloak, pulling out his wand. “Disillusio,” he whispered firmly, making a motion with his wand as if wrapping a rope around the two of you, binding you together. You looked down at yourself, but you simply weren’t there. You knew you were, but it was as if your body had disappeared and left the rest of you behind. Newt was the same way, and you knew that he was there, but you couldn’t see any of him–apart from his wand that was moving back inside his cloak. Disillusionment spell, you thought to yourself. He was just barely quick enough, and had just cast the spell when Dumbledore reached his wooden study door. When he turned back to smile at Phineas Negellus, his gaze seemed to linger in the corner where you and Newt were. He didn’t appear to have noticed you, instead entering the study that lead to his room. You waited until the sound of Negellus’ footsteps faded, and then exhaled heavily. “That was a little close,” Newt breathed, “I barely cast the spell in time.” “It was good quick thinking… When will the spell wear off?” You felt Newt’s breath against your face–it was strange to be able to feel his presence but to only see the wall in his place. “I’ve only just began working on it, so the camouflage effect only lasts for up to two minutes.” “We only learned it last week,” you reminded him, “Two minutes is impressive.” Newt took hold of your hand again, intertwining your fingers. “Not good enough to get us out of here, though,” he murmured, “we had better get moving.” And with that, you were being lead down the corridors once more. Somehow, you managed to make it outside of the castle. The night air was crisp and cold, the wind stinging your face as it blew your hair around underneath your black knit hat. Your clear night sky had been butchered by grey clouds covering the moon, casting a dark shadow over your tiny portion of paradise. You and Newt cast illumination spells, and the tips of your wands created a hazy blue light as you walked across the grounds. “This is so risky,” you said in a loud whisper, rushing to keep up with Newt. “Anybody could see us,” he agreed, but kept on. “I’ve been wanting to show you this, I think you would find it to be just as fantastic as I.” “Is it a creature?” You inquire, hoping to at least gain some knowledge of what you were walking into. “Isn’t nearly everything?” It seemed like an hour had passed before you reached the forest, but it had only been a few minutes. The trees stood towering above you, tall, dark and menacing. You held Newt’s hand a little tighter, and he looked down at you in surprise, probably having forgotten that they were even laced together. His thumb brushed circles into the top of your hand, immediately calming your nerves and sending a different kind of electricity down your spine. You had barely stepped into the forest when Newt began to speak, but not to you. He was calling for something called a Starkfeather. You heard the distinct sound of hooves against hard dirt, and suddenly, a giant creature stood before you. It had the body of a horse and the head, wings, and front legs of an eagle. It screeched, and Newt made an attempt to calm it into silence. He bowed before it, and it dipped its head down to him as well. He reached out his palm and slowly moved to run his hand down the creature’s feathers, murmuring sweetly to it. It wasn’t long until he turned back to you, grinning excitedly. “She’s a Hippogriff, isn’t she a beauty? Just the epitome of grace and fierceness, all in one fantastic beast.” You nodded, taken aback and staring at the Hippogriff in pure awe. You had never seen any creature as large as she was, and she both terrified and excited you at the same time. “You named her Starkfeather?” Newt nodded, blue eyes sparkling. “You can- you can fly on her back, but that probably wouldn’t be a great idea tonight. You can approach her, though, but first you have to bow. Hippogriffs are extremely proud creatures, and if they get offended, it could get a bit dangerous. So if you bow and keep eye contact and she bows back, it means that you’re allowed to approach.” You stared at Newt curiously. “When did you befriend her?” “Oh, just a couple of weeks ago. Go on then,” he urged, “I’m sure she’ll like you, there’s every reason to.” Despite his confidence, Newt had his wand at the ready in case something went wrong and he had to defend you. You wanted so badly to reach for your own, but you decided to refrain in fear of offending Starkfeather. Cautiously, you bowed and did your best to keep eye contact the entire time. You held her breath as you waited for her to make a move, and finally, she bowed right back. “Fantastic,” Newt breathed, walking beside you to feel her feathers. They were both soft and tough, beautiful but useful and protective. She was magnificent. “Do I want to know how you found her?” “The same way I found you,” Newt replied softly. “I was in search of a friend and happened upon someone breathtaking.” The blue light from Newt’s wand sticking out of his pocket cast a soft glow across his face. He lifted his eyes from the ground and they flickered over to you, a softness in them that you had only seen once before. His gaze darted from you to Starkfeather, then to the ground and back to you again. “Newt,” you murmured, wanting so badly to reach out and pull him to you. “(Y/n), I-” Newt’s words were cut short by a shouting coming from behind you, causing Starkfeather to screech loudly. The Keeper of Keys and Grounds had found you. Also known as the Gamekeeper, and Groundskeeper, the Keeper of Keys lived in a small wooden house on school grounds. He was in charge of many things, including the care of magical beasts at Hogwarts, the security of the grounds and castle, performing tasks for the headmaster, and tending to matters concerning the Forbidden Forest. Two of which had to do with you and Newt. "Whoever is out there had better show themselves immediately!” The Groundskeeper shouted, his wand casting a light around him as well. Newt made his light go out, and took your hand again. “I’ll be back soon, Starkfeather, you behave.” He waved sweetly at her before taking off running with you right behind him. The journey back seemed even longer than the one out to the forest, because you had to curve all the way around the Groundskeeper’s hut and back through the doors. You were more afraid of getting caught coming back in than you were when leaving, but you followed Newt’s every move to get back to the kitchens. Thankfully, you didn’t cross paths with Dumbledore or the headmaster, and were able to go where you needed to without problem. You didn’t dare speak, feeling as though somehow, somebody deep inside the castle would hear you and come expel both you and Newt. You heaved a sigh of relief as you came upon the stack of barrels in the corner of that familiar stony corridor. You reached out and tapped on the lower middle one, to the rhythm of “Helga Hufflepuff.” The barrel opened and you were granted entry to the earthy path that led up to the common room. The fire was still burning in the fireplace, and your blanket was still in a heap on the floor. “That was amazing,” you breathe, “Starkfeather is amazing. You are amazing. I’d rather do that than class work any day.” You sat down on the ground in front of the fireplace, letting the heat warm your chilled bones. A blanket was draped across your shoulders, and Newt was smiling softly as he sat next to you, half of the blanket around himself. You both sat in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s presence until you fell asleep to the sound of the crackling fire.

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Two: Chapter Seven

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Someone watching Littlepaw sleep would have assumed she was in the middle of a nightmare. Her paws twitched erratically; her pretty little face was scrunched up into a deep grimace; every once in a while, the fur along her back started to stand up straight before flopping back down. The someone observing her would have been compelled to shake her awake and assure her that everything was fine, that her bad dream was baseless.

In reality, Littlepaw was in the grip of intense confusion. She had gone to sleep with the intent to talk to StarClan about leaving the Clan behind – if for nothing else, just to get an idea of what was outside the Territory from those that lived in the sky and could see everything. She wasn’t sure that they would visit, since she had given up the seer life in all but official changing of mentors. Still, it was worth trying...and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she sort of missed the soothing and gentle presence of StarClan cats.

At first her dream was set in that beautiful field she usually saw when speaking with her ancestors: grass of that perfect length and softness, that stray butterfly dancing around her paws, the whole thing. But instead of Meliclight, the cat that visited her most, or some other spirit with the stars in their pelt and eyes, she now just saw a shadow in the distance. It was a shadow like one seen on a cloudy day, vaguely silhouetted and barely darker than the land around it. She couldn’t even tell what it was from this far away. She squinted and unconsciously took a few steps forward.

Abruptly she was turned around, facing the sunrise that was also common in her visions. The brightness of the sky made her look away and squeeze her eyes shut. She could barely open them again – the sun was just getting brighter and brighter, drowning out the stars above her. And yet, oddly, she felt no warmth.

“Meliclight?” she called. “…StarClan? Anyone?”

Then she woke up.

She spent the morning mulling over her dream and brought it up to Flyfang during breakfast. Flyfang couldn’t make heads or tails of it either.

“Snowshine could probably tell you what it means,” she suggested. “I’m sure she’d love to actually do seer work for once rather than leading around all these boneheads.”

Littlepaw gently admonished Flyfang (there were Clast cats around them, for stars’ sake!) but agreed that talking to Snowshine was probably the best idea.

However, predictably, Snowshine was handling a debate of some kind between a Clast native and a newcomer. Littlepaw hovered around the corner where she was for quite a while, waiting. When it became clear that this argument was going to take a while, she gave up and started looking around the settlement.

There was another seer that had come to Clast for a momentary stay – a silver tom named Starkfeather, who hadn’t done much in the time he'd been here beside eat and sun himself. Littlepaw hadn’t spoken to him very much – or at all, really – but she figured he was her next best option.

As she thought, she found him laying against a house wall, exactly where the sun best heated up the cobblestone. His eyes were shut, but he was clearly not asleep, from how he was purring and gently waving his tail, tapping it sometimes against the wall, sometimes against the ground.

“Excuse me,” Littlepaw began as she approached.

Starkfeather didn’t respond, except that his mouth twitched.

“I’m sorry to bother you.” Littlepaw raised her voice a little, assuming he hadn’t heard her. “I had a vision last night, and I was hoping you could help me figure it out.”

One brilliant green eye opened and roamed until it landed on her. A pause, a grunt, and then Starkfeather shifted to sit up at an agonizingly slow pace. Littlepaw kept her patience and smiled politely at him until he was adjusted and looking at her fully.

“A vision?” he said, sounding bored and sleepy. “What kind of vision?”

“Well…” Littlepaw sat down too, straight-backed (or about as straight-backed as cats get when sitting). “I’m not entirely sure. I used to dream of StarClan a lot, in this field with a sunrise, and I was there again, but-“

“Why would you dream about StarClan?” Starkfeather looked down at her, eyes narrowed.

“Oh-“ Littlepaw hastened to add on. “I used to be a seer apprentice, so I talked with them. But I quit, and-“

“Quit?” Starkfeather repeated, almost patronizingly slow. “You gave up on seerhood?”

Littlepaw shuffled her feet uncomfortably. “Y-yes. About a month ago.”

Starkfeather was eyeing her now, head slightly tilted. Littlepaw waited for him to say anything for several long moments. When he didn’t, she continued. “Anyway, so I had a dream again, because I was wondering about leaving the Clan-“

Starkfeather cut her off again. “I know who you are. You’re Morningsky’s kit.”

“You know my mother?” Littlepaw asked, nervous now. Was he going to tell on her?

“She’s been looking for you,” Starkfeather said, oddly contemptuous. “She wouldn’t shut up about how the greatest seer apprentice in the Territory disappeared without a trace.”

“Oh…” Littlepaw’s eyes lowered of their own accord. She had been happy to leave her mother behind, but a little worry had niggled at the back of her head for a long time, about whether Morningsky would miss her or not. Had she asked for her daughter, or her future seer serving under the leaders?

Before she could ask, Starkfeather snorted. “So let me get this straight – you gave up being a seer, and you ran away to this backwater place, and now you’re saying you’re getting visions from StarClan again, like they’d talk to you after all this.”

Littlepaw felt herself shrinking in posture. “I mean…”

“It's a little pathetic, trying to show off to adults, really.” Starkfeather rolled his eyes. “You have no business talking about dreams. Why don’t you leave seer business to those of us who trained all the way and graduated? You quit, and-”

“Well, aren’t you insecure!”

Littlepaw looked to her right. The blind cat Laurelclaw had come in with was strutting up to them, tail and head high and big eyes sparking. She had a smile on, but those sparks looked a little…aggressive, for lack of a better word.

Starkfeather frowned. “And who are you to interrupt-“

“You oughtn’t be talking about interrupting, boy, when you didn’t let this little chickadee finish any of her sentences.” The molly kept moving forward until she was standing almost between Littlepaw and Starkfeather, her nose nearly touching the tom’s and making him lean back a little. “And you really oughtn’t be talking like she’s harming your work when all you’ve done around here is sit on your prat and suck up prey like you’re trying to eat for a whole litter.”

The conversations around them, Littlepaw noticed, were dying off. She felt the eyes of several cats on her and the molly.

Starkfeather must have noticed too, because he stood up as straight as he could, looking annoyed. “You’ve barely been here long enough to learn my name. You can’t say that I’ve-“

The molly leaned in even harder, talking in a loud whisper. “I pay attention, Starkfeather. And I wouldn’t have to be here half a heartbeat to know that you just got insecure because a cat that quit being a seer is doing your job better than you ever did. Feels awful, doesn’t it? You might not be able to show your face around here if she has another dream! Have to go hunt your own food out in the valley, I’ll wager.”

Starkfeather bristled. “You have a lot of nerve-“

“Ohhh!” The molly’s eyes widened even further than they already were. “I know that tone when I hear it. Are you going to hit a blind cat now? That seems about your speed, picking on the weak and the harmless. Go on, then, we’re all waiting.”

Littlepaw stared in awe at the molly, and she knew she wasn’t the only one. Conversation had died entirely around them; when Littlepaw looked back, everyone was staring, some with their mouths a little open, some trying very hard not to laugh before this confrontation's conclusion.

Starkfeather’s eyes darted between the blind molly, Littlepaw, and the community watching them. He was looking more and more flustered by the heartbeat, mouth moving with nothing coming out of his throat.

“Weeell?” The molly turned her head so that her right cheek was facing Starkfeather. “One hit ought to do it. Come on!”

Starkfeather made a few noises that sounded equally outraged and helpless. Then he whipped around and stalked away, tail lashing.

“That’s what I thooo-ooought,” the molly called in a sing-song voice, a bit of a taunting laugh tucked in there. “Better go bully someone where there’s no one to watch you!”

Littlepaw was so caught up in her amazement that she jumped in alarm when the blind eyes turned on her, paired with a wicked grin.

“You okay, kiddo?” the molly said.

“Yeah,” Littlepaw managed, haltingly. “Um… thanks. I didn’t mean to cause an argument.”

“You didn’t,” the molly said. “That prick was asking for it, talking to you like that. I overheard and, well, I can’t resist skinning fools when I can.”

She lifted her chin, looking past Littlepaw, and tilted her head questioningly, smile dangerously bright. Littlepaw looked back to see the observers quickly finding business elsewhere and resuming their conversations awkwardly. Littlepaw couldn’t fight the giggle that escaped her and turned back to the blind cat.

“Really,” the molly said, quieter, lowering her head to Littlepaw’s height, “what has that twerp been doing since he’s been here?”

Littlepaw smiled without her permission and lowered her voice too. “Well, not much. He showed up after I did, and I haven't heard him talking about StarClan at all.”

“Then he really has no grounds on giving you crap.” The molly nodded sagely, grinning. “So that made that argument even more fun.”

Littlepaw laughed a little, then covered her mouth. “I shouldn’t be mocking anyone, it’s not nice.”

“But it sure is fun,” the molly said. “And you need to learn to dish it back out, my girl! What if I hadn't been here? I’ve heard you talk with your friend, you’ve got a good vocabulary. You could’ve dug him into the dirt with Hurst if you wanted.”

Littlepaw blinked. “I mean, maybe, but…I don’t know how, and…”

The molly tsked and shook her head. “No one’s been teaching you the real important stuff, I see. Well, you want lessons, you just come on around and find me. I’ve quite a vocabulary myself.” She winked. “And it’s quite colorful, if I may say. You’d be surprised.”

Littlepaw’s next laugh was louder. “I might take you up on that, then.” She paused, then remembered her manners. “Oh, my name’s Littlepaw. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.”

“You needn’t apologize for that,” the molly said. “But it is good to have a name attached to a voice. I’m Darkpelt. Your friend is Flyfang, I think? Laurelclaw mentioned her to me. He says she’s quite the fighter.”

“She is,” Littlepaw said proudly. “And she might end up being my mentor as a warrior apprentice.”

“Very good.” Darkpelt nodded again. “Then you’ll learn how to kick keisters both physically and verbally, if you so care to.”

Littlepaw grinned, a flare of boldness and excitement in her chest. “Well…I just might care to.”

[calitraditionalism]

Steorra: Storm on the Horizon - Allegiances

Relevant Allegiances

(Cats that show up in this arc, minor character section subject to future edits)

Main Cast:

Mistface - Pale blue-grey tom with green eyes and long fur. Scattered warrior.

Greyleaf - Grey tabby tom with green eyes and long fur. Scattered healer.

Nettlecloud - Pale blue-grey molly with green eyes and long fur. Scattered warrior.

Beetlefoot - Dark brown tom with yellow eyes. Fleet messenger, from Brae.

Littlepaw - Tiny fawn calico molly with blue eyes. Hillock apprentice.

Laurelclaw - Large white tom with yellow eyes and a torn ear. Plage warrior.

Flyfang - Dark grey ticked tabby molly with green eyes. Marish warrior.

Darkpelt - Lean black tabby molly with blind yellow eyes. Versant warrior.

Redheart - Tall red ticked tabby molly with orange eyes. Clast deputy.

Leaders:

Fernstar - Tiny ginger tabby molly with green eyes. Clast leader.

Lightningstar - Golden tabby cat with orange eyes. Hillock leader.

Pebblestar - Tall grey tom with yellow-green eyes. Scattered leader.

Sealstar - Large dark brown tom with yellow eyes. Plage leader.

Aphidstar - Small white tom with golden tabby patches and blue eyes. Marish leader.

Cedarstar - Tortoiseshell molly with orange eyes. Brae leader.

Thornstar - Brown tabby tom with green eyes. Versant leader.

Phoebestar - Black molly with green eyes. Fleet leader.

Minor Characters: 

Snowshine - Pretty little white molly with yellow eyes. Clast seer. 

Starkfeather - Silver tom with vibrant green eyes. Scattered seer.

Olivepaw - Black molly with bright yellow eyes. Scattered apprentice.

Mintpaw - White molly with brown eyes. Scattered apprentice.

Brightblaze - Red-and-white tom with blue eyes. Scattered warrior.

Shreddednose - Grey molly with scarring on the bridge of her nose and copper eyes. Patroller, from Clast.

Thrashercloud - Grey-brown tabby tom with yellow-green eyes. Patroller, from Brae. 

Brushdust - Golden tabby tom with green eyes. Scattered patroller. 

Frostclaw - White molly with green eyes. Patroller, from Marish.

Grapejump - Black-and-white molly with blue eyes. Scattered patroller.

Striderfoot - Lanky black molly. Scattered messenger. 

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Two: Chapter Four

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Mistface would be lying if he said he wasn’t entirely disgusted with his task.

He could see Snowshine from here – she was a pretty white molly with yellow eyes, and she was currently pulling a squirrel from the oversized prey pile. She looked a little anxious… perhaps ‘stressed’, rather, was the right word. Her fur was fluffy, and Mistface could guess that it was normally very well groomed and smoothed down. Right now, it looked like she had slept on it wrong, and then kept turning over in her sleep to make all of it stick out at odd angles.

“Prime for flattery and a kind conversation,” Darkpelt had said to him. “So pour on the charm and pretend you give a hoot about her problems.”

Mistface didn’t like other cats at the best of times. Actively having to seek one out and act interested in them was like finding a stinking, rotting piece of meat in the grass and being told to eat it with a genuine smile.

Nevertheless, he had a mission (why had he agreed to this again?), so he gently shook out his fur, let it settle, and sauntered forward for the prey-pile.

Snowshine glanced up as he approached and blinked in surprise. He smiled pleasantly at her and sniffed a mouse.

“They make prey so much better ‘round these parts,” he said in his news-and-weather voice. “Marshes must take the taste right out of whatever StarClan sends down.”

Snowshine relaxed and some of her fur flattened, though it was still awkwardly angled. “I haven’t really been anywhere but here. You’re from the south? Scattered, I'm guessing?”

“That I am.” Mistface tilted his head and crinkled his eyes in fake amusement. “Accent give it away?”

She laughed a little. “Just a bit.” She looked him over with roaming eyes. Mistface tried not to get annoyed. “I don’t think I heard your name when you came in. You were with that blind molly, right?”

“Mm.” He tilted his head a little to the left with a winning smile. “I’m Mistface.”

“Oh!” Snowshine perked up even more. “Then you’re Greyleaf’s brother! He’s always talking about you and your mother.”

“Oh, dear.” Mistface made a face of pretend worry. “Must not have a real good impression of me, then.”

“Actually, he has nothing but nice things to say about you,” Snowshine hurried to reply. “He says you’re really charming and kind.”

“We’ll have to see if that’s the case, then, won’t we?” Mistface said, giving her an appraising look. She suddenly seemed a little shy. He wanted to vomit.

Snowshine shuffled her feet and pointed with her tail to a rare grassy spot just beyond a pair of houses. “I, um, usually eat over there, if you want to come with. It’s a lot warmer than anywhere else in the village.”

“That’d be nice.” Mistface picked up a random piece of prey (a black bird of some kind) and waited for her to do the same with her meal before walking with her to the grass. He was very grateful he didn’t have to say anything now that his mouth was occupied.

Once they were settled across from each other, Mistface started pulling some of the feathers off of his prey’s belly. “I do have to ask – you’re a seer, I'm guessin'. And a real good one, goin’ by your suffix. What are you doin’ here in Clast?”

“Oh, well…” Snowshine swallowed the mouthful of squirrel she had already taken. “Everywhere needs a seer. And now, with Redheart doing her… thing... the actual Clast cats need someone to sort of be in charge.” She gave a weak chuckle, seemingly to herself. “They’re not too happy with her bringing in a bunch of strangers that don’t want to fight.”

“Y’all have plenty of loners come in, though, don’t you?”

“Yes, definitely, but they’re at least here to test their strength, and then they leave.” Snowshine sighed. “Not that I like them barging in all the time, but the rest of Clast does. These new cats are just here because of Redheart’s new ideas. They turn down too many fights for Clast’s liking. And, well, Redheart acting so odd anyway…”

Mistface had the sneaking suspicion that Snowshine did not voice her thoughts too often to anyone around the settlement. Suddenly, now that someone was listening and apparently caring, she was off. Mistface simply nodded and let her go about her new duties and how Redheart was this and that, and on and on, while he ate his bird.

“…I mean, I haven’t even been able to go to the Lighthouse, I’ve been so busy. StarClan can speak to us anywhere, I know, but sleeping at the very bridge to heaven is the best way to talk directly.”

She paused for breath, and Mistface took the opportunity to comment, “And StarClan can’t reach you at all if you leave with Redheart, I’m guessin’.”

“She’d like that,” Snowshine said, with a sudden darkness. “She’s always been weird about StarClan. Never even thinks to just have me ask them what to do about whatever problems come up, even for big things.” She looked around and leaned in a little, Mistface copying her, and whispered, “I think it’s just because she has these nightmares now and then. She thinks that StarClan’s giving her the silent treatment, so she’s getting bad dreams instead of visits from our ancestors.”

Nightmares… Mistface hummed in thought, keeping his voice low. “Well, don’t tell anyone, but my brother has the same problem.”

“Really?” Snowshine’s eyes widened.

“He’s had nightmares all his life.” Mistface knew that Greyleaf didn’t consider this particular fact a secret, but pretending to share some intimate detail with Snowshine would only help her trust him more, so he continued with his conspiring tone. “StarClan’s never talked to him, either.”

Snowshine nodded like he had given her the answer to all of life’s questions. “That must be why they get along so well, then.”

“Mm.” Mistface drew his head back, but stayed quiet. “Any other seers ‘round here that could help?”

“Well, we have the one that came in.” Snowshine made a slightly distasteful face. “Starkfeather. But he’s… not exactly someone I would go out of my way to talk to about stuff like this. I don’t know that he’d be particularly helpful.”

Mistface winked. “Not on your level, at least, I take it.”

Snowshine smiled bashfully and Mistface silently cursed Darkpelt for making him do this. “Maybe not… an apprentice arrived one day that used to train as a seer, but she’s going to be a warrior instead, so I didn’t want to bother her and ask.”

Snowshine started again on her rambling, this time about the various new cats that had come in recently. Mistface listened solely because she could say something important.

She didn’t.

He did not like her.

 ---

 When night arrived, everyone settled in to sleep, except for Beetlefoot. He instead took the opportunity to pretend take a walk and enjoy the night sky. When he was far enough away from the eyes and ears of the Clast camp, he took off north, never once looking upward (it was a waste of time).

He was lucky enough to meet no one on his path – during the living years, everyone stayed in underground dens or moved to whatever trees or shelter they could find to escape the rain. There was no rain tonight, but clouds were coming again from the coast. Even this far away, Beetlefoot could gather that Petrichor and Derecho, the aspects of storms, would be arriving soon with a determination to soak the earth.

Which means he would leave footprints on his next trip, if he wasn’t careful.

Beetlefoot caught a scent of a familiar cat and slowed down to a loping canter. He lifted his head up again, keeping his chest puffed out as well as he could while staying at his current speed. He already knew how this was going to go for him. Drop off the information, be dismissed, leave without another word. Other Fleet members liked to swap conversations. Just not usually with him.

Never a change in that, until Nettlecloud and her strange sons.

He saw a cat rise from the grass and turn to face him, soon followed by four others. He slowed again, this time to his regular trot, and nodded sharply once he was within earshot. He stopped a few feet away from the leader, a grey molly with a heavily scared muzzle, and stood about as tall as he could. He was still much shorter than everyone else.

“Beetlefoot, yeah?” the molly said. “Clean path here?”

“Yes.” Beetlefoot dipped his head. “No thorns on the way, Shreddednose.”

He didn’t particularly like trading the common polite phrases with other members of the Fleet, but it was all he usually got in the way of conversation, so he took it. It was just good to be greeted at all by one of the more prolific patrollers in the Fleet.

A lanky black molly took several long steps forward. “What’ve you got for us?”

This, he thought, was Striderfoot. He had only met her once, and she had been similarly brisk. He could respect that. “Information about Redheart.”

He recited everything Darkpelt and Mistface had gathered and given him – leaving out, he noted with pride, absolutely nothing. Striderfoot narrowed her eyes, listening carefully, until he concluded. She looked at Shreddednose.

“You got everything?” Shreddednose said.

“Everything,” Striderfoot affirmed. “Want me to head off now?”

“You might as well.” Shreddednose tapped Striderfoot’s side with her tail. “Frostclaw can go with you, if you want. That predator and all.”

“What, and be slowed down by her lumbering rump?” Striderfoot said, and grinned when a white molly came up and bopped her. “I’ll be fine. It’ll be light by the time I get there.”

“Then try to be safe for once,” Shreddednose said fondly.

“Of course.” Striderfoot turned, nodded at Beetlefoot, and said quiet goodbyes to the rest of her team before taking off at a sprint (I could outrun her, Beetlefoot thought snippily).

Shreddednose smiled, then returned to professionalism when she looked back at Beetlefoot. “Nothing else?”

Beetlefoot pretended he didn’t feel a little deflated. “Nothing else.”

“Chase the wind, then.” Shreddednose bowed her head.

“Only the warmest breezes.” Beetlefoot mirrored her gesture to her, then to the others, who looked indifferent to his existence. He whirled around and sprinted off, hastening to leave the situation before it turned awkward.

He was right, at least. He could outrun her.

[calitraditionalism]

Wow, what an asshole Starkfeather is. People like him are just the worst. Go Darkpelt! She’s just so funny to me. “You wanna hit me ? (: A blind cat ? (: You’re a bully ? (: You wanna run now ? (: Gonna cry ? (:” I pictured her this chapter a bit like the Cheshire Cat, just the large grin and the bright eyes and getting all up into peoples faces.

I wonder if Littlepaws dream was just a “sorry you can’t reach StarClan at the moment, please hold the call, the next free spirit will take care of you” kinda thing or If it had a prophetic aspect to it. A bright dawn would be seen as positive to humans (cuz we tend to find the dark night scary) so I wonder if for the clan cats a bright dawn is seen as a negative sign. After all they see well enough in the dark and at night the stars are visible, whereas dawnlight drowns their ancestors out. Besides the sunlight wasn’t warm, which is ominous.

I’ve also wondered if there is any reason why Meliclight is Littlepaws StarClan guide ? Are they perhaps related or very similar in character ? Morningsky did mention that her ancestors too were proficient Hillock seers and Meliclight looks like a hillock cat. Or is it random what spirit you reach when you dream ?

As always great chapter, I’m looking forward to more. <3

Darkpelt basically just looks like the Cheshire Cat 24/7 with those huge eyes and wide grin of hers. 

Thank you for the interest and excitement, my man! The next chapter may take a moment to get here because I’ve burnt out creatively, but I hope to get it done and posted ASAP. I hope you enjoy what’s coming!

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Two: Chapter Nine

(AO3 counterpart here.)

As Littlepaw was having her history lesson, the edge of the stone settlement an hour away saw Darkpelt grooming herself in the sun.

It was a little useless, she was free to admit. No matter how much she cleaned her already spotless pelt, she always carried the dusty scent of the Versant family. She thought it was a nice smell – had a faint adventurousness to it that stirred curiosity in the heart – but it wasn’t helpful for her job. Having absolutely no scent at all was infinitely better; the difficult part was that the plants that could smother that smell generally did not smell themselves, meaning that even she had a hard time finding them. So she had to resort to continuous grooming and occasionally jumping into a nearby stream.

That all said, it was a good way to spend time while she considered her next move, so on she went, tongue rasping over her shoulder fur as she plotted.

The boys were a great deal more useful than she had expected, and together they had collected some useful information about Redheart and her goals… but it didn’t feel like it was enough. They knew she didn’t like StarClan and that she wanted to leave the Territory. That was good and all, but they didn’t have any thorough details on what her exact plans were and how long they had before they needed to intercept.

Besides, there was more to this situation than had been discovered – things that no one was aware of except Redheart. There wasn’t much basis or proof for that thought. There didn’t need to be. Darkpelt’s intuition had not led her wrong before.

What they really needed to do, she thought, was get more information on Greyleaf’s involvement. Even Mistface had barely had a chance to talk to him after all this time. Perhaps that was deliberate on his brother’s part. But, then again, Darkpelt was aware of how close the two had been all of their lives leading up to this point. It didn’t make much sense for Greyleaf to be actively avoiding Mistface. Perhaps he knew something too, and-

“Oh, there you are.”

Darkpelt paused, tongue sticking out, and looked around uselessly, as if she couldn’t smell and hear the cat to her right and a bit behind her. She made a show of sniffing the air, then rotated her position until she was facing the cat.

“Here I am,” she said, as friendly as was appropriate. “Can I help you?”

“You’re Darkpelt,” the cat said. “I heard about how you handled Starkfeather being a prick to Littlepaw.”

“Ohhh, that.” Darkpelt lifted a paw and waved it dismissively. “Yes, that was me. Is she doing alright?”

She kept her tone casual and her face smiley, but mentally she winced. Coming to the apprentice’s defense and catching the attention of an entire crowd had not been wise. She had risked blowing her cover in the long run – now everyone there knew that there was a blind cat around who was ready to talk smack to a seer, of all people. She was a thought, however small, in many minds. If she wanted to sneak around, she had to contest with that.

It had been fun, of course, but still.

“She actually left a while ago with some of your friends to visit the Vultures,” said this cat that Darkpelt now figured was Littlepaw’s friend, Flyfang. “So, yeah! She’s doing fine.” There was a sneaky amusement in the molly’s voice. “She told me you offered to teach her to swear.”

“Lies!” Darkpelt dropped her jaw and moved her paw to rest over her chest. “I would never teach a kid to swear. I just extended an invitation to help her learn to stand up for herself, that’s all.” She winked. “Of course, whatever she overhears me say when I’m not talking to her, that’s her business to take or dismiss.”

Flyfang laughed. “I can’t say I’d be any better about that. What she must have heard me say the entire time we’ve been here…”

She paused, and her fur shifted rapidly, like she had shaken herself. “Well, to my point – I just wanted to say ‘thank you’ for what you did.”

Darkpelt blinked, surprised.

“Littlepaw’s a good kid,” Flyfang went on. “She can be sensitive, though, especially on her own. If I’m not there to stand by her, she’s as meek as she was before we met. She’s great, but… she wouldn’t stand up for herself if she’d been alone.” Flyfang cleared her throat. “Yeah, basically, thank you. It meant a lot to her – your offer and you speaking up. So it means a lot to me, too.”

Darkpelt had no idea how to respond. She was generally considered unpleasant company; as a result, she did not recollect a time where someone was genuinely thankful and appreciative of her actions beyond her services in spy work. Usually she just antagonized others and laughed about it.

Well. First time for everything.

She felt her smile level out into something more real (and self-conscious) than her usual mocking grin. “She is a good kid. I haven’t talked with her much, of course, but I can hear her playing with those two other apprentices sometimes. I can’t imagine some punk thinking it would be a good idea to pick on her.” She fumbled a little in her mind, trying to think of what else to say, and she came up with, “I appreciate the thanks.”

Flyfang shifted, and in her own uncertainty Darkpelt couldn’t tell if she too was feeling awkward or not. “I was going to ask, actually – what are you doing here to begin with? You can’t really get into fights… well, not physical ones.”

“You underestimate my power,” Darkpelt said. Her grin returned. “Though I just came here to witness the chaos Redheart’s about to cause. It’s too good to miss out on.”

“It does get pretty chaotic here already.” Flyfang laughed again. “You’ve heard all the crazy things that happen. Fights, arguments, everything.”

Darkpelt waved her tail with a practiced merriment, seizing the opportunity to change the course of the conversation. “And from what I’ve heard myself, you’re the resident champion in those fights.”

She could feel Flyfang puffing out her chest. “I win a fight or two, sure.” There was a loaded pause, and then Flyfang continued, “Redheart told me I’m the perfect warrior to help protect whatever cats come with her.”

“Oh!” Darkpelt tilted her head, ears perked. “Then you’re leaving too?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Flyfang suddenly sounded quieter, and not because of some sweet gossip she wanted to share. “I have a couple cats I’d like to take with me, if I do. They’re not ready to go yet. Apprentices, you know.”

Darkpelt hummed sympathetically. “As far as I can tell with Redheart, I think she’d be willing to wait for them. She seems nice enough.” A thought came to her mind, and she took a gamble on it. “I’m surprised she doesn’t just become a leader and do whatever she wants once she’s there.”

“That’s true,” Flyfang said thoughtfully. “And she’d have nine lives to get it all done, right?”

“I don’t want nine lives.”

Darkpelt jumped and looked around wildly before settling on the source of Redheart’s voice. Somehow, they had let her sneak up on them.

“Why not?” Flyfang asked, completely oblivious to Darkpelt’s surprise, thank the stars.

Redheart didn’t answer immediately. When she did, her voice was low and dark. “I’m not interested in the price for them.”

“Alright, I guess.” Flyfang sounded a bit bemused. “You sure do like to talk cryptically.”

“Things will be cleared up once we’re out of the Territory,” Redheart said simply. Before Flyfang could respond, she turned to Darkpelt. “I just came by to make sure you two are doing alright. I heard about Starkfeather’s behavior, and the argument.”

Great. Now Redheart was properly aware of her.

Darkpelt just nodded. “I’m sure he’ll back off from here. I gave him quite the lashing!”

“So I was told.” Redheart sounded like she was hiding some amusement herself. “But you are well? Nothing to see a healer over, no problems in camp?”

“Nope,” said Flyfang. “We’re all good. Or I am, at least.”

“I’m fine too,” Darkpelt said pleasantly. “I appreciate you checking in, at least, ma’am.”

Redheart didn’t respond. Presumably, she had nodded. Darkpelt heard her take a breath, but that faint shaky voice of Greyleaf’s called for her, cutting her off.

Paws carried the speaker closer. “Sorry, we’ve just got an argument. Snowshine wants you to come help resolve it.”

“Speartalon again?” Redheart said.

“No, Vireoberry and Peregrinefang.” Greyleaf sighed. “They’re not happy with the newcomers, as usual.”

Redheart made a noise with a mood that Darkpelt couldn’t quite decipher. “Show me the way.” To Darkpelt and Flyfang, she added, “Let me know if anything troubles you two.”

“Will do."

“Yeah, same.”

With that, pawsteps, and they faded away. In the distance, Darkpelt could faintly hear angry voices.

“It’s really been getting more contentious around here since Redheart’s been gathering cats,” Flyfang remarked. “I mean, there’s always some conflict going on, but I’m sure it’s not usually this bad.”

“Has anyone been annoyed with you and Littlepaw?” Darkpelt asked, more for information than curiosity. This could be useful to establish a timeline, if she needed it.

“No, we got here just before the masses.” Flyfang sounded a little irritated herself. “I get where they’re coming from, at least. The whole purpose of this place is to be rough-and-tumble and get into fights. Half of the cats that arrived are totally disinterested. And honestly? Kind of punks about it.”

Darkpelt nodded, letting Flyfang continue. She started going on about some specific cats that had been poor guests in the settlement, but Darkpelt only half paid attention. The rest of her was focused on this note of conflict between the potential deserters and the natives.

The main thing that this implied was that Redheart didn’t have a lot of time before tensions rose too high and cats were forced to leave. If Darkpelt was right, then the natural conclusion was this:

She and the boys needed to gather more information fast. They had a brief period left to discover everything they could before Redheart walked away from the Territory. And they were missing something, Darkpelt could feel it.

What did that mean, she wondered, "the price”?