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MOON 15 (Answered Call Result + Epilogue)

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HOLLOW SPACE FILLED WITH BRAVERY.

PATH CHOSEN: BACK AWAY, KEEPING EYES ON IT.

(Shiverstep, medicine cat, female, 15 moons. Loving.) (The Audience. It's you. You're here. You are cut into a thousand atoms and spread across time and space, on static and forces that can never be seen. You converge into this singular locus, this one point in time, to make a difference. You cannot change the world for all of the living. But you can change it for these ones, right now. Please, you cry. I am here. And I love you.)

---

Shiverstep felt her pelt rising. The sensation of bubbling water and falling sand surged through her body, seeping through the hollow space of her mind. The last time this sensation occurred, she felt like a dislocated joint had snapped back into place, settling right. Now, it felt like strong compression - like the pelts of other cats pressing against her own, forcing stability.

Distant whispers filled her again - no language could possibly filter the feelings that surged through her. Her heart thundered - but not with fear. It beat with a hollow echo, reverberating through her whole chest like a drumbeat. It was akin to endless defiance. The stars burning in the endless void of the cosmos. A stalwart buck refusing to flee at the hounding wolves. The promise of life roiling in stray molecules, softly reaching and shaping the building blocks of life, given enough patience; enough time.

The guarantee of life against the winter storm.

Shiverstep inhaled.

Then listened.

The whispers this time were less coherent, more emotional. They waxed and waned, like a fluid melody, interlaced with short bursts. Certain words broke through the fog.

Eyes. Focus. Back.

"What do we do?" Brackenfreckle hissed, her ears pulled back.

Shiverstep swallowed, still focused on Rootgrove's empty eyes. "Eyes…we keep…we focus our eyes on it," Shiverstep stumbled. Once she made the statement, it felt correct and renewed her confidence. "Back…back away. Slowly."

"Like with a predator." The realization dawned coldly on Brackenfreckle as she said this. Shiverstep's dread did not fade. The beings beyond StarClan imbued with her feelings and thoughts that she barely parsed sensibly. But slowly, they aligned. Echoes of intent were made clear, and Shiverstep bristled. Hurt. Blavignad was hurt. There were kits with them. She did not know how old the kits were. Could Tendrils be hunting?

"Camp," Shiverstep blurted. She glanced at Brackenfreckle nervously. "We have to go to camp. All of us."

Brackenfreckle looked at Shiverstep in protest, only to glance forward again and startle, gasping. Shiverstep only took her eyes away for a split moment, but when she looked back, her fur bristled.

A pair of long, branch-like legs had emerged from Rootgrove's cavity.

Nothing else moved. It must've been only for a minute. But it felt stretched into eons. Shiverstep was afraid to blink. She forced herself to take a deep breath as she felt the foreign energies retreat from her legs and tap at her forehead.

Rootgrove did not move.

Instead, his lower jaw quivered, and wrenched a phrase from his body. His voice was distant, and horrible.

"IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH HER TOO?"

He had heard Blavignad.

The air froze around them. The wind that once blew downwind, masking the monster's scent, now stilled. Shiverstep would have retched in any other situation. She kept her eyes on Rootgrove like her life depended on it.

Maybe it did.

Brackenfreckle's voice stammered. "Okay. Okay. Camp. We'll go there. We…we have to," she whispered.

"I'll stare it down," Shiverstep said. She surprised herself with her willingness. It must've surprised Brackenfreckle as well, as she saw her shift from the corner of her eye. Shiverstep still refused to look away from Rootgrove, knowing that he knew they were there now. A horrific feeling. To be known. To be seen.

It took everything in her to not think about what would happen if he followed them to camp.

"Bracken? What is that?" Blavignad squeaked. She was now staring out into the treeline, trying to find what they were seeing.

Brackenfreckle ignored the question. Or perhaps couldn't answer it to begin with. "...Are they all in there?" She sidled closer to the queen. Blavignad nodded. Brackenfreckle resisted losing sight of Rootgrove, repeatedly glancing at Shiverstep and stretching her neck to see the beast.

Shiverstep bristled as disjointed words were picked out in the chaos again.

No. Movement. Protect.

"Brackenfreckle?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"Move…very slowly." Yes. Yes, that made sense. This was a predator. A hunter. With the instincts of one. "Stand your ground. You…you have to focus on protecting the kits. Look forward. Not back. I'll stare at it. Okay?"

"But what about you?"

"I'll...I'll back away. I'll still look at it, but I'll have to back away. Okay?"

Brackenfreckle gritted her teeth, clearly not comfortable with this arrangement, but having no other ideas. She reluctantly nodded, then backed away into the foliage far enough for her mouth to reach the basket handle. Within it, three small kits were huddled together, nesting around the scented herbs with some discomfort. Blavignad limped into the bushes, staring up the hill they planned to go up - towards ForestClan's camp. Something flickered in her eyes before she looked back at Shiverstep.

"Hey," Brackenfreckle hissed from the bushes at Shiverstep. "Hey. Come on."

Shiverstep swallowed as she stared at Rootgrove's black, empty eyes.

She steeled herself as she focused on the feeling of hard rain rapping at her forehead.

Then slowly backed away.

Her paws found stability behind her. She took another step.

And again.

And she kept backing up until she reluctantly broke line of sight with Rootgrove's skull. But she had no choice. She had to stay calm. She had to.

She was going to be okay.

That was a thought made in blind faith. But she had to believe it.

"Keep going," she hissed. She heard Brackenfreckle and Blavignad slowly pad through the ferns, very gently pressing down on the former path. Shiverstep tried to follow as she backed away, but she still snapped a twig and stumbled over a stray stone every now and again. Still, she did not keep her eyes off of where Rootgrove used to be.

Until she saw his shape suddenly bolt over the undergrowth. Shiverstep hissed as she lept back, her back arching and her fur on all ends. Rootgrove froze a few fox-lengths away. His silhouette reflected the shadows of many branching legs against the sunset. She unsheathed her claws, her eyes wide. She snarled her teeth at him.

"S-Shiver!" Brackenfreckle called. The sound of Blavignad stumbling to the ground in horror invaded Shiverstep's ears.

"Don't!" Shiverstep hissed. No, they couldn't look back! The crawling legs of the Woodcrawler dangled pensively in the air. She could see roots shifting like poisoned veins in the woeful desiccated flesh. Her voice trembled in terror. "Keep going. You have to. Please." Rootgrove couldn't have Brackenfreckle or Blavignad in his line of sight. They had to keep moving. They had to. She had to protect them.

The feeling was foreign to her, but she grasped it tightly. She hissed at the towering shadow, swiping her claws at the air in front of her. The posturing felt ludicrous as Rootgrove's jaw trembled again.

"KEEP...GOING."

She heard Brackenfreckle whine, and Blavignad grunt as she stood to her feet. "Come on...come on, hon, we have to move," Blavignad hissed. Shiverstep heard her companions resume their slow, calculated path. Breathe. Breathe. This was a predator, Shiverstep thought. A normal predator. With predator instincts. A fox. A badger. A wolf. A bear. It could be convinced. It could be convinced to leave them alone, if they were willing to fight back.

In his shadow, outlined by the fading sun, she saw the corners of his jaw curve into a horrible grin.

Please.

It had to be. It had to be a predator. An animal. Please.

Something stirred in her core and beat through her again. The feeling of hard rain. The sensation of something metallic against the roof of her mouth. Determination. Love. Shiverstep welcomed its surge. Despite everything, despite staring at death in the face, she felt like others were with her now. Watching. Guiding.

Back still arched, eyes wild with focus, she shuffled backwards again, this time with her side facing him, making herself larger. She heard the sound of panting and the absence of Blavignad's fourth step. Brackenfreckle stuck to the queen's side and whispered for her to lean on her.

Slowly, tensely, the distance between themselves and Rootgrove widened. Shiverstep made certain to navigate the ferns and grasses carefully. She refused to allow even one single leaf block her field of vision. As they grew further and further away, Rootgrove became a red eyesore in the landscape. He was several tree-lengths away. Yet still, as long as she saw him, he did not…

Shiverstep saw a tall tree to her right, threatening to hide him from her. She was so close to the main path. So close. But it wasn't far enough. Somehow, she knew. She had a dreadful feeling that this was not enough.

Her heart raced. "Brackenfreckle?" she meowed. She knew she was likely loud enough for it to hear her. She didn't care. It could mimic her for as long as it wanted, words could not hurt her.

"Shiver?" the young molly called back anxiously. She was further away than she thought. Maybe that was good. Maybe it wasn't.

Shiverstep swallowed. "How…fast can you make it up the ridge?"

The silence was palpable.

"We gonna need to run?" Blavignad asked a little too calmly.

"If I move on the main path...I'll have to break line of sight."

"Does it still want to follow us?" Brackenfreckle asked warily.

Shiverstep remained silent. She realized that she would never have an answer to that. And the sun was almost gone - only leaving a dying flash on the horizon.

Stand your ground. You must protect them.

Your pelt allows you to hide.

Remember what Tree taught you.

These thoughts came to her like lapping waves on a shore. They were brave. They were true. Their sudden clarity brought with them a sense of hope, and resilience. Above all, she wanted to protect those who were hurt.

She thought about Tree, and how they saved her life many moons ago. Their bravery had incapacitated a Woodcrawler for long enough for them to escape. Shiverstep felt her heart swell. She was not a brave cat. She was not a strong one. She didn't know how to fight - not well. She was scared. And yet...

What was…that mantra Redstar told them about again…? Loyalty, bravery…

"Go. Go on ahead."

"...What are you talking about?" Brackenfreckle's voice tightened. Shiverstep couldn't see her, but she could imagine the molly's fur bristling.

"Go up the hill. I'll catch up after you're over it."

"...You're going to start running, then."

"Once you're over the hill, I can try. At least I can hide in a tree."

"But…"

"Please. It's getting dark. You have to," Shiverstep begged.

The sound of protesting kits sounded her reply.

"...She's right, hon. I don't know if I can outrun somethin'," Blavignad meowed. "My kits…I want them to be safe. She's givin' us that chance. Don't waste it."

Brackenfreckle remained quiet for a moment longer, before she nodded, then whispered to Blavignad to hold steady. Shiverstep listened as the sound of crunching leaf litter and mewling kits grew distant. The motionless entity slowly stirred from its position. The skull adorning it shifted. A long neck emerged from its shape, stretching out like a parasitic worm. It slowly turned its head to face Shiverstep, meeting her gaze.

The shadows of tangled legs moved gently. Rootgrove approached ever so slowly, often stopping in his tracks. The Woodcrawler would occasionally comb the air and rub its legs together like a pensive fly, before stepping over an unseen obstacle. It was like a diligent apprentice practicing their stalk, and they had found a bug in a clearing to target, to her horror and disgust.

Shiverstep let out a hiss, then a prolonged caterwaul. Rootgrove stopped. Then placed a leg forward.

Shiverstep snarled and swiped at the air again. To her dismay, Rootgrove retreated slightly behind a tree nearby him. His neck was still outstretched, boring its empty gaze down on her.

It was toying with her. She felt it. She hated it. She felt a surge of anger rush to her paws.

It was strange, she thought, in a moment of unwarranted clarity. It was strange how just a few moons ago, the beast was a source of terror to her. She was so afraid of him. In her youth, she wondered if she had dreamed him up. Seeing him at the Dome. Repeating the words of unknown entities. It would make sense, wouldn't it? For it to never be real.

And yet, when it happened again - when it was apparent that he was real - that wasn't the thing that mattered to her, or even scared her the most. It was the fact that there were beings beyond StarClan that existed, that tried to breach into her world, using her as a medium.

But they came to her. They answered her call. She didn't even know their names. But they were here. They were here, and they gave her courage. The disfigured visage of the monster before her didn't horrify her. It only disgusted her.

The Woodcrawler had no reason to keep a poor old cat alive, deformed and obliterated in every sense except for the freedom of death. No motive, no known purpose for it. But it didn't try to remove him. Or kill him. It kept him here. It used his flesh to taunt and horrify. Like a kit tormenting a still-living mouse out of pure curiosity.

She would not give it the satisfaction of her terror.

She could barely hear the sound of her companions making it to the top of the hill. Shiverstep took a step back. Rootgrove's approach meant that she could still keep an eye on him now. Her ears folded back. Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm not afraid of you," she hissed. Her voice still trembled.

The dying light illuminated Rootgrove's face one last time. A wide grin morphed on his face, larger than any she'd ever seen before. Then, Rootgrove's legs receded back into its hide. The neck began to recede. Before it stood still, it repeated:

"I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU."

The light vanished from the horizon.

Then, the instincts of generations of cats who lived and died in these woods howled through her, like the earth bore memory. It chased away the spirits she called forcefully, filling her with dread. Two truths surfaced.

Rootgrove was a distraction.

Woodcrawlers were eusocial.

Shiverstep heard screaming.

******

"I'm going to find them."

"Iciclepool - "

"I'm going to find my daughter, Hopechase. They should be back by now," Iciclepool hissed. Hopechase's expression remained calm, but firm.

"I know, love. I'm not here to object. I'm here to come with you," Hopechase meowed, placing a gentle tail on her mate's shoulder. Her blue eyes were steady. "Let's - "

"I'll go."

Iciclepool and Hopechase turned to the voice of their leader, who padded past them. Redstar's deep blue eyes were filled with layered anger, and her tail was low to the ground, kicking up dried nettles in her wake. The deputy and senior warrior instinctively parted to allow Redstar through, only for their emotions to catch up with them.

Hopechase started. "Redstar - "

"I have lives to spare. You do not. They can't be far," Redstar interjected, already walking out the gate.

Iciclepool tried to stand in Redstar's path and protest.

Redstar wouldn't allow it.

She shouldn't have let them go. She knew, she knew it wasn't wise. She was such a fool. Shiverstep looked so compassionate as she explained to her why she wanted to take Brackenfreckle on a late patrol. Shiverstep was becoming more and more compassionate over time. She kept telling stories with happy endings to the kits, giving them hope. She sat with Tree and Riftpaw, asking them what she could do to make them feel at home. She sat quietly with Morningspot when the nervous warrior was struggling. She listened to Redstar's occasional tangents about ForestClan history when she wasn't thinking straight.

Of course she wanted to make Brackenfreckle feel less isolated. And of course Redstar agreed with it.

She wouldn't let her Clanmates endanger themselves again. Not after Talontooth.

"Redstar." Iciclepool started firmly, but the leader glared at her deputy.

"I will find your daughter, Icicle. I will bring them back. Please trust me. You have to stay here, as deputy." Redstar spoke with finality. Iciclepool scowled and prepared to retort, only for her eyes to widen and her ears to twitch.

Redstar stopped, her ears swiveling immediately. Her fur bristled when she heard what her deputy did.

"WOODCRAWLER!"

Redstar's head darted towards the call. That was Shiverstep.

"HIDE, HIDE, HIDE!"

The call grew louder. Redstar saw the black pelts of Shiverstep and Brackenfreckle suddenly burst into the distance past the treelines. Relief and terror surged through Redstar all at once, her instincts kicking in as she climbed up the camp walls, then yowled for lockdown.

Shiverstep and Brackenfreckle sprinted through the camp gate as the Clan was thrown into organized chaos, the sick and the small already halfway into Redstar's den. Brackenfreckle's pelt stood on end as Shiverstep instinctively guided her up the rocks. Brackenfreckle clutched a basket in her mouth tightly, and Redstar's fur bristled as she smelled milk coming from it.

Redstar's mind feared for the worst as no queen was with them.

The camp gate closed and there were no patrols needed to raise the flag for.

And so her watch began.

Her ears swiveled. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Her heart thundered and her claws burrowed into the wood.

The woods were silent.

She had to force herself to stay focused. To count the minutes and give her deputy the signs. She could feel Iciclepool's eyes at the back of her head as her deputy stood on the High Rock.

Redstar heard the loud whine of a kit. Owlkit making a verbal protest. Cats hissing for silence in response.

Redstar counted the minutes.

The Woodcrawler didn't show itself. It rarely ever did. She knew that. The beasts were ambush predators. Prefering to hide. She mentally berated herself again, as her body automatically sounded the seconds with the stretch of her claws.

Why did she let them go? She was foolish to think that the Woodcrawlers would have their fill hunting Twolegs this greenleaf. She was foolish to think she could breathe, maybe trust the world around her for just one moment. No. Of course she couldn't. Of course the woods threatened to hurt her Clan.

She could not make that mistake again.

By the time the hour was up and there was no sight of the Woodcrawler, Redstar ended the lockdown. She approached her clanmates, who were eerily silent as they gathered in the middle of camp. Brackenfreckle placed the basket down in front of her, staring at its contents despondently. Redstar's heart tightened. She slowly padded up to the young healer, and her eyes glanced to its contents.

Three newborn kits were huddled against each other, sleeping peacefully. A ripped, green ribbon rested on top of them.

Redstar's heart sank. She had a feeling. She had seen this before. It happened far too often. She didn't ask where their mother was. As she saw the empty, hollow eyes of the dark grey molly, she knew.

Redstar glanced at Brackenfreckle's shoulder. A cobweb bandage was applied to a scrape. Riftpaw emerged from the crowd to sit beside his sister, and pressed his head against hers. Redstar glanced at Shiverstep, who was staring at the floor, with Iciclepool gently grooming her with a sympathetic purr.

Shiverstep's pupils were slits. Eerily calm. Yet her tensed jaw said otherwise.

Redstar brought her gaze back to the young kits, and asked quietly, "What happened?"

Brackenfreckle refused to look at the leader. Her gaze was distant. She said nothing.

Riftpaw purred as he pressed his head further into his sister's pelt. His hazel eyes brimmed with sadness and worry, as though he knew something the Clan didn't. His jaw had been healing well; enough for his words to be louder and more coherent. "It's okay, sis. It's…it's not your fault."

"It was." Her voice was low and cracked.

Redstar shook her head. "The blame belongs to the woods. Please. What happened?"

Brackenfreckle looked up at the leader. There was an attempt to seem angry. But it was overridden by numbness.

"...I'm so tired," she whispered almost inaudibly. "That's all. She's dead. It's my fault. And I'm so tired."

Redstar felt her heart sink. She blinked slowly at her, then looked at the kits.

"...I know this is difficult. But I need to know. First - are there any other possible risks we should be aware of? Any Living Tendrils, any Fakes that may have followed?"

Brackenfreckle slowly turned her head to stare at Shiverstep. The black and white tabby still kept her gaze to the floor. Iciclepool gently nudged her daughter and whispered words of encouragement. Finally, Shiverstep blinked, then looked up at Redstar.

Redstar didn't know why, but as she met the young medicine cat's gaze, her pelt prickled.

"...No. But…can I talk to you alone…after?" she asked quietly. Her voice was gentle. Too much so.

Shiverstep had been through too much in one lifetime. To be chased by a Woodcrawler twice…and the burden of keeping StarClan's secret...Redstar merely nodded. Shiverstep brought her gaze back to the floor.

"...Second," Redstar sighed. "...Did…you manage to get the mother's name?"

"Blavignad." Brackenfreckle's eyes narrowed slightly. "...Why?"

"So we can mark a grave. And conduct the burial ceremony."

"...There's no body to bury."

Redstar's ear flicked. "...When we don't have a body, we bury mementos. Keepsakes, to give to their spirits." She stared at the green bow. "...Was that theirs?"

Brackenfreckle stared at the bow for a while before nodding. Redstar gently removed the green bow. She stared at the three sleeping kits, blissfully unaware of the horrible night they had just experienced.

It was Riversnow who acted first, approaching the basket and looking at the kits with saddened eyes. She blinked, then said with some hesitation, "Windfur?"

The young tom looked up at her. "Yes?"

"...Remember how my milk production struggled to stop?"

"Yes. I gave you parsley for it." Windfur blinked, then seemed fatigued. "Unless."

Riversnow licked her chest fur in embarrassment before looking back at the kits. After an intense moment, she sighed. "Would it be unsafe for them to nurse?"

"No, it shouldn't be." Windfur's eyes softened as he stood up and approached the basket. He looked towards Brackenfreckle sympathetically, then grabbed the basket gently. "I'll look over them for any injuries or health issues."

Daffodilkit looked up to her mother curiously, padding after her. "Are we helping the babies?" she mewed.

"But why do you have to do it? You're our mom, where's - " Owlkit's yowling was cut short by Riversnow giving her a terse stare, her paw raised as if she was going to tap her rump. Owlkit swallowed back the rest of her sentence. Riversnow scowled.

"We help because it's right, Owlkit. I don't want one more complaint out of you. Understood?"

"Sorry," Owlkit mumbled, staring at the floor. Her grey eyes still showed frustration.

Barleywave watched quietly as Riversnow and her kits retreated into the shadow of the nursery. There was an unmistakable look of admiration in his eyes. It faded into longing affection. He blinked slowly, then nudged Cloudthunder quietly before standing.

"...Hey. We should prepare the funerary meal."

Cloudthunder stood up, agreeing solemnly. "I'll help start the fire," she said.

"...Can we help?" Airkit piped up from beside her. His sisters looked up at Cloudthunder hopefully.

Their mother gave them gentle licks on the foreheads, her orange eyes filled with a quiet pride. "Okay. But you have to listen. Alright? We're honoring a brave cat."

Redstar watched and listened as her Clanmates rallied to honor Blavignad and care for the new kits. Only Redstar, Shiverstep and Brackenfreckle remained at the center of camp, their minds elsewhere. Riftpaw tried to coax his sister into joining him. Brackenfreckle just shook her head and gave him empty platitudes that she'd help with the funeral in a bit. Riftpaw wasn't convinced. But he just batted at her ear playfully and told her to take care of herself, before giving her space.

Redstar closed her eyes and felt guilt seep through her.

She knew that outsiders were at risk in the woods. She knew that she couldn't possibly protect them all. She had a duty to her Clan, not to every cat to ever live. Perhaps if she were a leader from ForestClan's past, she would tell herself that at least, her Clanmates were safe for a few more moons, with the woods being fed.

But she wasn't one of those leaders. And the thought that an innocent life was taken when it could have been one of hers, angered her. She felt her jaw tighten around the green bow she had removed from the basket. She closed her eyes as she allowed the scent of the cat who owned it to fill her senses.

Redstar put down the bow, and pressed her nose against it in silent reverence, her thoughts swarming.

I'm sorry. If the woods had taken me sooner…I don't know if they would've left you alone. But maybe they would have. Maybe you'd still be here. I'm sorry.

It was a long, grueling night before the Clan finally found themselves in their dens. Redstar sat down in hers, staring at the wall, her thoughts swarming in melancholy.

Her ear twitched as she heard pawsteps entering her den. Shiverstep entered without permission, her steps quiet and lost in thought.

Redstar blinked slowly at her, remembering the cat's words from before. "You needed to speak to me?"

"...Yes," Shiverstep sat down, her tail covering her paws. She swallowed, took a deep breath, then began. "...Blavignad…she…she could've lived. She could've ran, if her paw wasn't sprained."

Redstar blinked. "...And?"

Shiverstep stared blankly ahead, her blue eyes were swarms of thought. The muscles around her throat tightened, and she was debating with herself internally on what to say. Redstar was reminded of the tiny, frail kit that she and Iciclepool found, abandoned in a bush, and the only thing she could think of now is how much the poor thing had experienced in such a short amount of time.

…She promised. She promised that she wouldn't let her Clan suffer like this.

"...You have experienced much pain in your young age, Shiverstep." Redstar meowed. "I am sorry that you are burdened with it. Please. If it is within my power, let me lift it."

Shiverstep's eyes widened, and for a moment, Redstar felt like her words may have breached the young molly's numbness. She suppressed a sob, closing her eyes and wiping her eyes.

Redstar waited patiently, and after a time that felt like a heartbeat or a thousand seasons, Redstar learned about what happened. Shiverstep told her about Endless. About how she had been injured by something in leafbare, and refused help unless she was kept a secret. How Brackenfreckle wanted to help Blavignad, and bring her borage to help her kits. How Endless and Blavignad confronted each other, and how Endless ran off with an ominous warning. Shiverstep struggled to explain the remainder. She said she was stalked by a Woodcrawler, and stared it down to try and escape it - which surprised Redstar. She felt like something was off - Shiverstep couldn't explain what the Woodcrawler face actually looked like, despite staring it down. She said it was covered in red roots - perhaps different from the rest, somehow. How Blavignad and Brackenfreckle tried to make it up the incline ahead of Shiverstep. How another Woodcrawler disguised as a dead bush leapt out at them. How Blavignad shoved Brackenfreckle aside, saving her life, before being dragged off into the dark.

She said that Brackenfreckle would corroborate the story.

Redstar closed her eyes, feeling bile rise in her throat.

The Woodcrawlers were intelligent. She knew this. They were not like Twolegs, or like cats. But they still brought their catches to their underground nests, and grew their kin.

It was rare that they needed to hunt in groups. But they could.

She thanked Shiverstep for her honesty. She told her to rest, and to take a break from duties tomorrow. Brackenfreckle should do the same.

…She would have to think about what to do about Endless, if anything at all.

She prayed to StarClan that night. Hoping, pleading, that they would grant her the wisdom and strength to protect her Clan.

---

...ForestClan has three new kits in its camp, such as it is. Brackenfreckle wearily gives them names. She doesn't know what to think anymore.

(Brackenfrecke, medicine cat, female, 13 moons. Grumpy.) (Blackkit, kitten, female, 0 moons. Shy.) (Nectarkit, kitten, female, 0 moons. Sweet.) (Shadekit, kitten, male, 0 moons. Unruly.) (Blavignad, ghost resident, female. Shameless.) ---

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