Hanah Sobek
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[TB] TWILIGHT -- Chapter 24
🕑 Added 2024-03-01 16:20:10 +0000 UTC<< INDEX || Chapter 23 || Chapter 24 || Chapter 25 || From the Beginning >>
“Mothwing, where are we going?” Shadepool asked.
Night blanketed the hills in a dark cloak of shadow, and the stars were just beginning to appear. The waning moon was still at the tops of the leafless willow trees, its pale light not yet reaching the lake territories.
“You'll see!” Mothwing insisted. The tip of her tail twitched. “Hurry!”
After Nightfrost had left with the herbs, Mothwing had led Shadepool across the stream that bordered her den and out into RiverClan territory. They were walking towards a small patch of woodland situated behind RiverClan's camp, though there was some empty, hilly space between them.
The golden she-cat was moving at a good clip, and Shadepool panted, struggling to keep up after walking an entire day already. Her legs burned. Was there a reason for Mothwing's hurried pace?
Shadepool felt for Nightfrost. She guessed he and Mackarelshine had made their way into ShadowClan territory from the barest scent of pine in her nose that almost made her sneeze. Hopefully, they wouldn't be held up by a patrol or, worse, attacked by whatever was bothering ShadowClan. Nightfrost sent her a pulse of confidence, and Shadepool had to take it for what it was.
To distract herself, she asked Mothwing, “So, how are things in RiverClan?”
“We're doing fine,” Mothwing reported. She paused to sniff at a bush, pushing up its branches to check beneath it. Shadepool caught the faintest scent of mint. Mothwing marked the area with a brush of her muzzle and continued onward.
Shadepool blinked at Mothwing's dappled backside. Was that all she was going to get for an answer? Worry prickled at her pelt. What was Mothwing's hurry?
“Have you thought of taking on an apprentice?” Shadepool asked, putting on speed to try and catch up.
She reached Mothwing's shoulder as the golden she-cat answered: “I've an idea who to choose. I just haven't asked her, yet.”
Her? “Who?”
“Willowkit, Mosspelt's daughter,” Mothwing explained. “You remember her, right? She's been very helpful here and there with little tasks. She even pulled a thorn out of Tumblekit's paw the other day!”
Shadepool pricked her ears in surprise. Most kits would balk at a task like that! She purred in her throat, “That's amazing! She sounds perfect.”
“She might be,” Mothwing agreed. Her gaze focused ahead, and Shadepool saw something flicker there. Mothwing's voice went quiet, and she mewed, “I just hope I can be a good teacher.”
“I'm sure you will be,” Shadepool assured. She flicked her tail against Mothwing's flank and added, “If there's anything you need, you know you can ask me!”
Mothwing's whiskers twitched. Shadepool was troubled, but she sensed that Mothwing wouldn’t open up more if she were pried at, so she left it alone for now.
They made it to the woods as the moon climbed the sky. Mothwing slowed her pace, measuring her pawsteps carefully. Shadepool mimicked her as best as she could, ears pricked and nose sharp for danger in this unfamiliar territory.
Soon enough they came face to face with a sight that Shadepool hadn't expected - a Twoleg fence. The wooden slats stood straight and short, their stark whiteness absorbing the moonlight. There were large gaps between the slats, just big enough for a cat to fit through - from the scent of it, Mothwing had come here more than once.
Shadepool's pelt prickled with unease. The last time the Clans encountered Twolegs, they were destroying the forest and kidnapping cats, including Shadepool's mother. The warrior code cautioned against interacting with Twolegs in general. Why had Mothwing brought her here?
As if sensing Shadepool's worries, Mothwing lifted her tail. She meowed, “It's a small Twolegplace - way smaller than the one in the old forest. There are only a couple of dens and the Twolegs I've seen move slowly and have gray fur. I think they're elders. And I haven't encountered any dogs.”
Shadepool's heart beat fast, regardless. Twolegs were unpredictable no matter the type. “You get your herbs from here?” she guessed.
Mothwing's eyes flashed. “I do,” she meowed, her tone cautious, “but believe me, Shadepool - you've never seen anything like this!”
Shadepool swallowed. Mothwing was putting a lot of faith and trust in her to bring her here, and Shadepool had to return it - it was far too late now to turn back. She nodded at the golden she-cat, and Mothwing's posture relaxed.
Gesturing with her tail to follow, Mothwing slipped between one of the gaps in the fence, fitting through with ease. On the other side, she sniffed the air, then nodded to Shadepool that it was safe.
Shadepool took a deep, bracing breath and, thankful that she could lean on Nightfrost for extra strength, she slid between the slats.
On the other side was a Twoleg yard, treeless and open to the sky. There were as many Twoleg things that Shadepool had no name for as there were ones she did, and the cloying smell of Twoleg was overwhelming from every angle.
Up ahead was the Twoleg nest itself - Mothwing was right; it was smaller than the ones in the old forest. It was long and flat, like it was settled in a hunter's crouch, its walls made of many small, red-colored stones. There was a smaller white nest just next to it.
Mothwing sniffed some more, then nodded for Shadepool to keep following her. Shadepool's pelt prickled as Mothwing led her towards the white nest.
“I don't know what they call this place,” Mothwing mewed, “but wait till you see what's inside!”
They came up close, and suddenly Shadepool understood - she didn't need to go inside to tell that this nest was full of plants. The smell of earth and growing things was overwhelming, so thick she could barely breathe. She tried to look inside, but the white walls, while somewhat transparent, were clouded and difficult to see through.
Mothwing glanced back at her, eyes gleaming knowingly. “Over here,” she hissed.
Mothwing rounded a corner to the broad side of the white nest. Shadepool followed and saw that Mothwing was already poised to leap - there were several large objects stacked up against the side of the nest, almost forming steps like the ones to the Highledge. They seemed sturdy, too - large boxes made of wood similar to the fence.
Shadepool followed the steps up with her eyes and saw they led to a gap near the very top of the nest. She shivered, uncertain.
Shadepool admired Mothwing's fearlessness as she leaped onto one of the objects. Shadepool followed slowly, and Mothwing was patient with her as they clambered to the top. The steps were sturdy and unmoving, and Shadepool sniffed one - she lifted her muzzle, shocked.
“Dirt!” she mewed. “They're full of dirt!”
Mothwing nodded, her eyes gleaming.
They continued up and up until they were both positioned just at the dark gap Shadepool had seen from below. She realized it was an open window, and not just that - the entire nest was made of windows! The smell of plants just about bowled her over, but even more surprising was the warmth she felt wafting out from the opening. It felt like stepping into the gap would be like falling into the height of greenleaf.
“Look down,” Mothwing purred.
Shadepool obeyed, her night-sight flickering as she leaned into the gloom. Her head spun - inside the windowed nest were rows upon rows upon rows of plants, some she had never seen before and others she recognized instantly. They were growing strong and green, as if leafbare hadn't touched them for an instant. Shadepool’s whiskers trembled in shock.
“I found it while trying to find some herbs in the Twoleg gardens,” Mothwing explained, ducking her head in beside Shadepool. “I saw one of the old Twolegs coming out with a whole thyme plant in their hands, and I just had to check it out!”
Shadepool just couldn't believe it. She had thought the garden she discovered in the old Twoleg nest on ThunderClan territory was something great. This dwarfed that discovery entirely!
“I can't take too much, obviously,” Mothwing went on, “and I can't always get in here, but there's just about everything down there, aside from a few things like catmint. I don't think a Twoleg will grow that unless they need it for their kittypets.”
Shadepool had to pull her head out. The cold of the night was shocking compared to the heady warmth of the windowed nest. Shadepool struggled for words. “This is just... Mothwing, it's so spectacular!”
“I know, right?!” Mothwing purred. “We might never run out of herbs again!”
The idea was incredibly comforting - but something concerning prickled at the back of Shadepool's mind: “Does Leopardstar know about this?”
Mothwing frowned. She seemed to understand what Shadepool was getting at. In a calm, collected voice, she stated, “I will never, ever allow Leopardstar or any other cat to keep me from helping others in need.”
Shadepool swallowed. The conviction in Mothwing's voice was strong, and Shadepool admired that so much. That Mothwing would defy not just her leader but her mother to help others made her an amazing medicine cat.
I hope she knows that.
“Mothwing!”
Shadepool stiffened, shocked to hear another voice break into the cool, quiet newleaf night. An unfamiliar scent, stronger than all the others, crossed her nose, and Shadepool looked down the Twoleg objects to its source - a lean golden tabby cat that she did not recognize.
“Hello, Root,” Mothwing responded, calm as ever.
“Root?” Shadepool hissed in question.
Mothwing nodded. “Remember? He came with us on the Journey,” she explained. “He's Tawnypelt's mate.”
It clicked, then, and Shadepool recalled the loner. He was the father of Tawnypelt's second litter and had been captured by Twolegs just before the Clans had left the forest. After being freed, he followed his mate and kits across the mountains. Shadepool hadn't thought of him too much the entire time, nor had she questioned what had happened to him once they'd settled at the lake.
Root didn't seem perturbed by Shadepool's ignorance or presence as she and Mothwing picked their way down to the ground. The golden tom gave her a nod, then turned to Mothwing, his gaze all business.
“It's time,” he said.
Mothwing sighed. “I know. Let's go.”
Shadepool looked between them, confused. Suddenly, the air seemed tense, like thin ice stretched over a river. One pawstep wrong, and it would crack.
“What's going on?” Shadepool asked.
Root narrowed his eyes at her. “Mothwing hasn't told you yet?”
“I haven't had time,” Mothwing impressed, flicking her tail in a mild irritation. To Shadepool, she explained, “I wanted you to see the window nest, but there's something else.” Her gaze became intense. “The real reason you're out here tonight.”
Shadepool tilted her head, confused. “What...?”
Root's eyes were like chips of ice. “Follow us.”
———————————————————
Once more, Shadepool was trailing after Mothwing, though now it was with the addition of Root. It was an entirely different energy - Mothwing had walked with a spring in her step as they snuck away from RiverClan camp. Now, her ears were twitching in different directions, and Root periodically stopped to breathe in the air, as if they were concerned about being followed.
It was silent, and Shadepool had a creeping feeling that they were doing something they shouldn't.
But I’m here now, she told herself, taking a steadying breath. I trust Mothwing. She knows what she’s doing.
They left the Twolegplace as moonhigh set in and followed the woods along the edge of RiverClan territory. Huge willow boughs rasped in the night, and Shadepool, utterly unfamiliar with the sound, had to fight not to jump. Worst of all, Mothwing's and Root's wariness only seemed to increase the closer they came to the Arrival, which made Shadepool flex her claws anxiously.
She felt Nightfrost's awareness drift over to her, far away now that he was back in ThunderClan camp. She couldn't communicate with him outright, but she did send the impression that she wasn't alone and that she was okay, even if she seemed rattled. It didn't settle him, but she knew he couldn't come after her now.
StarClan, let this be safe... she prayed.
As moonhigh broke, Shadepool heard the sound of water. They came out of the woods onto the bank of a river that Shadepool recognized - it was the one that made RiverClan's border with the Arrival, and, if followed upstream, led to the sun-drown-place.
Root and Mothwing easily crossed and waited for her as Shadepool splashed her way ungracefully through the ice-cold water. They gave her little time to shake off the excess before heading across the bare hills towards the old tree stumps that the Clan had used as a camp when they had come to the lake.
Shadepool followed, her limbs screaming for rest and her belly howling for a meal. It took all her willpower not to complain.
Finally, they stopped at the crest of a tall slope, half-hidden by a cluster of scraggly, leafless bushes. From here, Shadepool could see almost the entire lake, lit white by the moon. Exhausted, she sat on her haunches when she saw Root and Mothwing do the same.
“What are we doing here?” Shadepool asked, finally. She looked between Root and Mothwing and mewed, “Surely you can tell me now!”
Root and Mothwing shared another look. The golden tom raised his chin and explained, finally: “Mothwing and I have been working together these past moons to keep RiverClan safe.”
Shadepool tilted her head, confused. “RiverClan is in danger? But, Mothwing, you said everything was fine!”
Mothwing frowned. “I did, and it is, mostly. But darkness is growing in our Clan,” she said quietly, “and its wings are spreading across the lake.”
Shadepool narrowed her eyes. Did they really drag me all across creation just to tell me something as cryptic as that?!
But she could tell it wasn't nonsense, not to them - whatever this darkness was, both Root and Mothwing seemed utterly convinced of it. They had to be if they were going through all this effort behind RiverClan's back.
What does it have to do with me, though?
They didn't have to wait long. Down below, at the stump that marked the old Gathering-place at the Arrival, Shadepool saw a shadow move: a cat, lean and powerful, stepped out from the darkness. She didn't know who they were, but their appearance made her heart hammer hard in her chest.
Mothwing signaled with her tail for silence as if sensing that Shadepool might ask more questions. She and Root crouched low, and Shadepool followed suit, getting the very obvious feeling that they could not be discovered. She endeavored to keep her jaws clamped shut.
The one cat was not alone for long - another shape appeared, their shoulders lit by the moonlight as they trotted downslope from WindClan territory.
Shadepool stiffened. That was a WindClan cat for sure, but which one? She breathed in the air, straining for scent - with the wind sweeping in from the lake, she could only tell that it wasn't Crowflight. That put her at some sort of ease, but she still anxiously gripped the earth with her claws.
The two cats met in the middle, and when they spoke, Shadepool found that the wind carried their voices with it:
“I thought you weren't coming,” the first cat meowed. His voice was fainter, but Shadepool recognized it: Falcontail, Mothwing's brother.
Before she could comprehend that, the other cat spoke: “Our deputy caught me trying to sneak out,” responded the WindClan cat. Their tail lashed. “I had to make up an excuse.”
Who is that? Shadepool strained to figure it out. She knew it wasn't Crowflight, and it didn't sound like Duskwhisker or Ryewhisper - but beyond them, she didn't know WindClan cats very well. The voice did sound somewhat familiar, though, as if she had heard it recently.
“I'm sure he only wanted what was best,” Falcontail said idly.
“He wouldn't know what was best if it bit him in the tail,” the WindClan cat hissed.
Falcontail made a gesture Shadepool couldn't see. His voice carried, light and airy, “Relax. How are things going...?”
The WindClan cat seemed to collect themselves. They said something, but Shadepool didn't hear all of it: “...dy to attack at any time. ThunderClan won't see it coming! But Crowflight keeps stalling. I swear, he's half ThunderClan himself after that journey - ThunderClan would be gone by now if he hadn't argued for more time...”
So he is trying to calm things down, Shadepool thought. He had managed to give ThunderClan until the half-moon, despite disapproval from his Clanmates. It was probably all he could do in the face of his vengeance-hungry Clan without losing too much of his position’s power.
“Well, if you want to expedite things,” Falcontail's voice was like a snake's, smooth and slithering. “You know what you can do...”
Shadepool felt a chill run down her spine.
The WindClan cat was quiet, and Shadepool had to strain to hear: “It hasn't come to that,” they said.
“Hasn't it?” Falcontail went on. “WindClan deserves justice - why is Crowflight trying to stall if not to give time for his ThunderClan allies to gather strength? You know how close he is to some of them... Like littermates - his own words!”
Shadepool froze in horror, her blood turning cold as ice. Was Falcontail really encouraging this WindClan warrior to kill Crowflight?
The WindClan cat's tail lashed. “How would you even get away with that?” Their voice had risen in disbelief.
Falcontail's voice was smooth, unbothered: “It's far easier than it seems, don't you remember...?”
Shadepool trembled. She couldn't stomach it anymore; she felt like she might retch. She shuffled out of hearing, heart thudding in her ears like thunder as she crouched beneath the leafless branches of the bushes, trembling.
Her mind worked a mile a moment, and the past moons pushed her head beneath the water of her own thoughts, threatening to drown her - Onewhisker and Barkface ambushed. ThunderClan, accused of their murder. No evidence but an unrecognizable ThunderClan scent and a tuft of gray fur.
Gray fur.
Falcontail had gray fur.
Not only that, but it was Falcontail who had fought the hardest on Mudstar's side from RiverClan by leading Mudstar's supporters from the other Clans. If Falcontail had planned for Mudstar to come out on top, and he had found he'd made the wrong call, then wasn't that the perfect motive for him to attack Onewhisker?
“You see it now, then,” Root whispered. “The darkness in RiverClan.” The golden tom joined her in the bush, his tail resting against her flank comfortingly, his pale eyes sympathetic.
Shadepool stared - not at Root, but at Mothwing. The golden she-cat was still listening, her back turned to Shadepool. She was stiff from ears to tail, her claws flexing against the earth.
Falcontail is your littermate, Shadepool thought despairingly. The dark wings opening over RiverClan, threatening the whole lake - Your brother! Oh, Mothwing...
“I don't know what made him this way,” Mothwing admitted as if she could feel Shadepool's thoughts. “But his plotting has caused a great deal of suffering.” She turned only her muzzle, looking over her shoulder at Shadepool. Her eyes were bright in the moonlight, full of an old and worn-out grief.
Her words were simple: “He needs to be stopped, Shadepool.”
Shadepool swallowed. “But he's your-”
“Falcontail is no brother of mine,” Mothwing said resolutely. “He hasn’t been for a long, long time.”
Shadepool shivered. There was a coldness in Mothwing's eyes that Shadepool just couldn't fathom. She tried to imagine what Nightfrost would have to do to stop being her brother, and Shadepool’s mind could not create anything so vile that her brother could actually be responsible for - nor could she comprehend cutting him out of her life entirely.
“I'll help,” Shadepool promised. Her heart thudded in her chest. “I will. What can I do?”
“Warn Crowflight,” Mothwing said. Her gaze was intense. “I don't know when this cat will act, and you're the one Crowflight will believe above anyone else.”
Shadepool swallowed. “I don't know if he'll listen to-”
“I do,” Mothwing insisted. She turned and brought her muzzle close to Shadepool's. “You love him, don't you?”
Shadepool stared, frozen in shock. She hazarded a glance at Root, who seemed to be paying no attention to this part of the conversation, fascinated by an ant on a strand of grass. Shadepool struggled to ask, “H-How...?”
“I have eyes,” Mothwing insisted. She flicked her tail. “And, on the Great Journey, he was all you'd ever talk about if we weren't speaking of herbs. He was always looking for you, too.” She sighed, and her hard gaze softened. “I was in love once, you know, before I became a medicine cat. It might not have lasted, but I know how it looks on a cat.”
Shadepool swallowed lamely. Her secret had been so easily found out, and by a fellow medicine cat! The blow seemed like a puff of air compared to the gravity of Falcontail's plots.
“Your secret is mine, too,” Mothwing promised. She touched her nose to Shadepool's head, her breath warm. “No one will ever know.”
Shadepool trembled, touched by Mothwing’s promise. She hazarded a glance at Root, who had risen to his paws.
The golden tom looked down at her, his gaze soft. “Love is more powerful than any rule a Clan cat can make,” he told her with a gentle, knowing smile, “and no rule should attempt to contain it.”
Shadepool lifted her head, finding that she was calming down. Clarity was returning to her mind, and with it, the intense realization of what she had to do. She managed, “I need to go home. I have to warn Crowflight!”
“Rest first,” Mothwing told her. Before Shadepool could protest, Mothwing licked her between the ears, pointing out, “You’ll get nowhere if you keel over in ShadowClan territory. I'll take you home first thing tomorrow, as I promised.”
Shadepool glanced past Mothwing, and saw that Falcontail and the WindClan cat were long gone. The stump of the Arrival was lit by the cold, uncaring light of the moon, and the stars filled the sky above, twinkling in a blanket of blackness reflected on the lake’s surface.
She looked up at those stars and wondered, StarClan - did you know?
Did you know all along and do nothing?
