Rogue

Rewrite of an old story by ginger. Read & enjoy. :)

(kind of gory at times)

(completed)

......................................................................Tick tock

They didn’t even care that they killed him. They didn’t even want to admit that they were wrong.

............................................................Tick tock

Well guess what, Oakthorn?

.................................................Tick tock

You were wrong again. 

.....................................Tick tock

Only this time, you made one fatal mistake.

........................Tick tock

You let me go alive.

...............Tick-

Prologue

Screeches echoed across the clearing, so many that the tom could hardly make out individual voices. His eyes flashed around him as familiar faces, family, turned on him with drawn snarls.

“How dare you!” Someone hissed in his ear. He flinched back as he recognized his childhood friend, his companion. Nothing but bitter hatred sparked in his disapproving gaze.

“What’s the proper punishment?” A burly she-cat asked eagerly, leering towards his face. He shrunk back, ears flat as cats shrieked out suggestions.

“Blind him!”

“Drive him out!”

“Kill him!”

His heart skipped a beat at that suggestion. His wild eyes looked for someone, one friendly face, when a gray she-cat emerged slowly into the center of the clearing. She stared at him steadily, and he could not read her sharp glare.

“Silence!” She bellowed, raising her chin. The crowd died down to an anxious and respectful mutter. The tom could still see prickled pelts and lowered gazes. The gray she-cat swept her gaze over the throng before landing it on the tom. He cowered.

“Mother,” he whispered. His voice was trembling horribly. “Please.”

Her mouth twitched, and in horror he realized that she was gravely disappointed and saddened. “What you’ve done is inexcusable,” she growled, maintaining a painful eye contact with her son. She flicked her long tail at the corner, where a sliver of light revealed a tom convulsing and shaking. Two cats tended to him, murmuring and not sure what to do.

The tom’s jaw fell open. “You don’t actually believe-”

His mother sighed deeply, closing her glassy eyes. “If I were you, I would have already run far away. From this moment on, you are no longer welcome to show your face on our territory.”

His heart and hopes fell. Panic began to flutter in his belly as growls rumbled around him from his own family.

“I didn’t-”

“You deliberately tried to kill our leader,” his mother went on sharply, leering above him threateningly. “There is no excuse. We are family here, blood, and tonight you have broken that bond. Get out of here, or we make you.”

He tried to force a hiss, but it came off weak and shaky. He gave the gray she-cat a cold, hollow glare before spinning around with the flick of his tail. He felt gazes tear at his back as he left camp without so much as a look back. Then he began to run, and he didn’t stop until his family was long in the distance.

Allegiances:

WindClan:

Leader: Finchstar: pale ginger tom with a white chest and a long tail

Deputy: Oakthorn: large reddish brown tabby tom with yellow eyes

Medicine cat: Paleberry: cloudy cream she-cat with white feet and blue eyes

Apprentice: Swallowpaw

Warriors:

Lionwhisker: golden mackerel tabby tom with a white chest

Stormstripe: gray tabby tom with yellow eyes

Briartuft: dilute calico she-cat with patchy fur

Ashpoppy: blue-gray she-cat with white toes and glassy blue eyes

Heatherdawn: solid gray she-cat with blue tints yellow eyes

Apprentice: Cinderpaw

Larchfall: small, dappled dusky gray tom with forest green eyes

Goosewing: cloudy gray she-cat with brilliant golden eyes and long fur

Apprentice: Rainpaw

Rosegaze: skinny white she-cat with pinkish eyes (albino)

Sandhawk: light ginger tom with darker markings

Nettlestorm: brown tabby tom with long fur and yellow eyes

Cherrydapple: pretty ginger tabby she-cat

Buzzardstrike: ragged chocolate tom with yellow eyes

Breezefeather: white and gray tabby she-cat with blue eyes

Runninghare: light brown tabby tom with white chest, legs, and belly. Blue eyes.

Redfire: brilliant ginger tom with white face markings and golden eyes

Apprentices:

Swallowpaw: cream tabby tom

Rainpaw: silver tabby she-cat with white feet and blue eyes

Cinderpaw: solid gray she-cat

Queens

Icefern: light gray she-cat with large blue eyes

(Mother of Sandhawk’s kit: Sorrelkit (pale tortoiseshell she-kit)

Flashfoot: Ginger and white she-cat with red feet

(Mother of Lionwhisker’s kits: Goldenkit (pale ginger tabby she-kit), Yellowkit (white she-kit with golden tabby patches), Poppykit (tortoiseshell she-cat), and Emberkit (ginger tabby tom)

Elder:

Quickstorm: nearly deaf, very pale gray tom with short legs and blue eyes

RiverClan:

Leader: Ivystar: silver tabby she-cat with fierce green eyes

Deputy: Rainface: handsome silver tabby tom

ShadowClan:

Leader: Volestar: pale ginger tom with one white paw

ThunderClan:

Leader: Greenstar: brown tabby she-cat with large emerald eyes

Other Cats:

Java: burly brown tom with yellow eyes who lives on the farm

Fern: soft gray she-cat with green eyes who lives on the farm

Rowan: dark ginger tom with yellow eyes

Chapter One

Her name used to be Breezefeather.

No, no. The story starts before then. It used to be Breezekit.

She could recall moments when she was young, very hazily. She remembered looking up at her mother Ashpoppy with wide eyes, thinking she was the most beautiful cat on the moor as she told the kits stories of StarClan and how their father looked down at them every night. Breezekit would try and stay up late and see the stars with her brothers, but her eyelids always dragged down before the sun did.  

Breezekit would huddle against Ashpoppy as a large gray tom would enter the nursery bringing little feathers and shiny pebbles to his kits, her demates. Buzzardkit and Mousekit and Swallowkit would all shriek with joy and leap on their father and deputy, Graymouse, while their mother Briartuft would purr and welcome her mate back from a successful hunt. Ashpoppy would watch with careful jealously in her clear blue eyes, but she hid it well when she took her own kits out to play.

There was one tom that would come in and talk to Ashpoppy. Breezekit learned that his name was Oakthorn, and he was Ashpoppy’s mate. But he didn’t have same shine in Graymouse’s eye when he looked at her or her kits. He would bring moss sometimes and ask how Ashpoppy was faring before awkwardly stepping away without word to the kits.   

It was around the time that Breezekit was three moons old that she began to question her mother. Curiosity had tinged her and her brothers, Runningkit and Redkit, who were equally confused as of why Oakthorn claimed to be Ashpoppy’s mate yet refused to be a father. Ashpoppy had taken in a long, tired breath.

“Oakthorn is not your real father,” she had explained the best she could. Breezekit had wriggled to the front. The sadness that glazed her beautiful mother’s eyes made her heart droop. “Sundusk is up in the stars. Remember that?”

Breezekit and her brothers nodded earnestly.

“Well, after Sundusk left for the stars I asked Oakthorn to be my mate,” Ashpoppy went on. “And part of that is being a father. I don’t think he really understands kits, yet. But give him time, and I promise he will be just like a real father.”

“Like Graymouse?” Breezekit wondered. Ashpoppy nodded quickly.

“Yes, dear. Just like Graymouse. Now get some rest.”

And so Breezekit did give him time. She gave him up until she was seven moons old. Up until she became Breezepaw.

By the time she had ranked up, she was so blinded by her new responsibilities as a WindClan apprentice that she hardly even thought about her family. With this newfound place in the Clan, it also gave Breezepaw time to develop her own personality. Her attitude and spite-fueled actions were sometimes looked down upon, but she focused on having fun and being an apprentice.

She could even remember her last day of simply having fun and being a child. Oakthorn didn’t bother her much, Ashpoppy was proud of her, her brothers sharing her joy. She had caught a rabbit all by herself. Her mentor, Stormstripe, had pride shining in his yellow eyes. He had been a rough mentor, especially trying to see past Breezepaw’s teenage hot air, but he had become more of a father than Breezepaw ever had. She brought it back to camp to share with Redpaw and went to bed under the stars will a full belly. She’d glanced up, and it was the first time in a long time she didn’t even look for Sundusk.

That all changed the next day.

A patrol had burst into camp early in the day with rounded eyes and spiked pelts. It was hardly a patrol - only a warrior named Lionwhisker and Ashpoppy had made it back. In Ashpoppy’s maw was a small, limp body. Finchstar had pushed through the astonished crowd as Lionwhisker, head of the patrol, met his gaze somberly.

“We met a RiverClan patrol at the border,” he explained in a low rumble. “They were looking for an attack. I’m so sorry, Finchstar.”

“This is all Ivystar’s fault!” a she-cat named Heatherdawn yowled, lashing her tail. “StarClan shouldn’t have let that war-driven mange-pelt earn nine lives.”

Breezepaw saw Finchstar’s yellow gaze narrow as he ignored her. “Who all was with you?” he asked in a failed attempt to hide his panic.

Lionwhisker’s large head fell. “Me, Ashpoppy, Cloudpetal, Mousepaw, and Graymouse was leading. Cloudpetal and Graymouse perished. We could only bring Mousepaw back. I don’t think he’s going to make it, either. They showed no mercy.”

Finchstar’s whiskers drooped, and it took Breezepaw a long moment to remember that Cloudpetal had been his mate, and Mousepaw his grandson. A wail split the air, sending chills down Breezepaw’s spine.

Briartuft.

She could envision her kithood now, clearer than ever but tainted with red. Briartuft was weeping the loss of one of her kits but with no mate to fall back on. Two graves that only reminded hollow for heartbeats before the bodies of father and son lay next to each other. For once, it made Breezepaw glad she didn’t have a father.

Because she didn’t have to deal with losing him.

“We need a new deputy,” croaked the sole recent retiree, Quickstorm. Breezepaw inwardly wished her would be quiet. Finchstar lost two family members. Let him grieve.

But to her surprise, the yellow head raised.

“There will be no delay in Clan life until the vigils,” he decided. “Even though Graymouse isn’t here, let me say the words under his spirit so that he and StarClan may approve of my choice.” Finchstar’s gaze swept the Clan, skimming over Breezepaw and finally landing on a cat nearby.

“Oakthorn is the new deputy of WindClan.”

There were a few murmurs, but many of them were an echo of approval. However, one voice rung out clearly and angrily.

“Appointing the half-Clanner after we lose three cats to RiverClan?” Breezepaw prickled at the scornful words. Finchstar’s head jerked around suddenly.

“Oakthorn has proved his worth time and time again,” he defended with the flick of his tail. “His blood does not determine his place in this Clan. His ambition does.” Breezepaw felt a surge of pride as Oakthorn stepped forward to humbly accept Finchstar’s request. WindClan began an echoing chant of Oakthorn’s name that lifted up into the sky, beyond the stars, where Sundusk could hear. Breezepaw joined them. It was the first and only time Breezepaw had ever been proud of her stepfather.

Oh, what a fool she had been.

*

Breezefeather was rather bored the day after she became a warrior. She’d woken up early to train and half-panicked when she realized she wasn’t in the apprentices’ den. But when she had felt her brothers packed in beside her due to the rising cold of leaf-fall, she exhaled quickly.

She watched the sun rise quietly over WindClan without waking them. She wasn’t sure if you were allowed to sleep during vigil, but the three of them had been out as soon as the other warriors disappeared.

Runninghare was her newly named youngest brother, someone she didn’t much mind. He was the personality that Breezefeather was not; he was kind and friendly and a little bit shyer. Redfire was the more rambunctious of the trio, constantly shooting back with a joke or smart remark.

Breezefeather was the final piece of that puzzle. She was blessed with heavy sarcasm and more of a snappy attitude towards everything. She’d definitely seen some confused glances at Finchstar when he’d named her Breezefeather.

Her thoughts were broken with an obnoxious yawn.

“Good morning, Breezefeather,” Redfire greeted with a grin. He leaned towards her eagerly, waiting for her to reply using his new name, too. Breezefeather rolled her eyes.

“Good morning, Obnoxious,” she replied, refusing to give him that satisfaction. Redfire frowned and shoved her with his shoulder.

“You guys are awake already?” Runninghare slurred, eyes still closed.

“We weren’t supposed to be asleep anyway,” Redfire pointed out, shrugging. “Oh well.”

“Oakthorn’s probably gonna put us on morning patrol,” Breezefeather added bitterly, inwardly cursing at the thought.

Redfire and Runninghare both groaned at the reminder.

“What if we get to lead a patrol?” Runninghare offered excitedly.

“Great, half the older warriors will wonder why the brand new warrior is acting more elderly than them,” Breezefeather added sarcastically.

“Maybe if you got off your butt for once they wouldn’t think that,” Redfire suggested, licking a paw. “Seriously, you only catch the rabbits that run right into your paws.”

Breezefeather shoved him. “You’re just jealous that I hunt better than you.”

“We’re not breaking the vigil silence, are we?”

The siblings’ heads spun around at the new voice with wide eyes.

“You’re up early,” Breezefeather commented to Stormstripe anxiously. Her former mentor scoffed, but there was a twinkle in his yellow eyes.

“I wonder why that is,” he said with a glare at each one of them, individually. “Well, I was sent to wake you up. Breezefeather’s going to miss me doing that, isn’t she?” he joked.

Breezefeather rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Stormstripe was her mentor, and although he was rather gruff at times, he was more of a father figure than Oakthorn was.

Breezefeather followed Stormstripe into camp, where WindClan was waking up slowly. She got a few lethargic congratulations as she headed towards the center of camp.

“Good morning, Breezepaw,” greeted a ginger and white queen named Flashfoot. She had padded out of her den with her restless four kits following in a tiny rampage. Her eyes widened as she realized her mistake. “Oh! Breezefeather, now. Right. My apologies, darlings and a late congratulations.”

Breezefeather nodded politely as a yellow and white kit scrambled overtop of her paws and made a beeline for her father, Lionwhisker, who had emerged from the warriors’ den.

“Good morning!” the kit chirped.

Is that one Yellowkit? Or Goldenkit? Emberkit’s the tom - Poppykit’s tortoiseshell, right? Breezefeather wracked her mind as she bid Flashfoot and the kits a polite goodbye. Why would you name two kits in the same litter Yellowkit and Goldenkit?

“‘Redfire! Redfire! Oh, good morning, Redfire’!” Breezefeather turned around at her brother padding towards her in a squeaky voice. Redfire looked beyond thrilled. “StarClan, I’ll never get over how good that sounds.” Runninghare padded up and rolled his eyes when Breezefeather could see.

“Sure… once you realize how stupid it is,” he added slyly. “Duh, fire is red. It’s like Finchstar isn’t even trying.”

If Redfire wasn’t already ginger, his face would have been reddened with anger.

“And… and hares run, too! Don't act so special.” he managed, trying to hold back his sudden realization and embarrassment. Breezefeather snickered. “Don’t laugh, miss billion-syllable name.”

Breezefeather hit him with her paw.

“Gather up, WindClan!” The siblings shared a collective sigh as Oakthorn’s voice rumbled through the clearing. Breezefeather could see him now, sitting under Tallrock with his chest puffed out. The morning crowd was beginning to form, and Breezefeather could see her stepfather clearly.

If Ashpoppy had tried to tell Breezefeather that Oakthorn was her real father instead of stepfather, she would not have believed her for a split second. Oakthorn did not look like a WindClan cat. He had thick, reddish brown fur and quite a few knicks. Oakthorn was a rather large cat, but he had his heritage to blame that on.

His mother was a WindClan cat named Swiftcloud, Breezefeather had gathered, and his father a ShadowClan tom named Darkpool. Although, Oakthorn had never told her any of this. She’d only got it from whispers and from Ashpoppy, who even spoke of it in a hushed voice. Oakthorn was tough, but he was explosive. And the minute he was reminded of his parents’ choices, boom. Naming him Oakthorn probably wasn’t the best way to keep him forgetting he was half ShadowClan.

Once he had become deputy, he was entirely more vocal of his thoughts. And he did not like Breezefeather.

The yellow and exclusively half ShadowClan eyes landed on Breezefeather. She held his gaze for a steady moment before he moved on. The cats were all awake now; even Finchstar emerged from his den with a tremendous yawn.

The last two to emerge were Paleberry, the medicine cat, and her apprentice Swallowpaw. Swallowpaw was older than Breezefeather by a mere two moons - he’d earn his full name any day - and he was one of the few cats that tolerated her. This morning, he made eye contact before giving a quick sidelong glance at Oakthorn with raised eyebrows and mouthed, ‘yikes.’ Breezefeather nodded silently and in exasperation.

Paleberry appeared behind her apprentice. The usually quiet and friendly she-cat noticed Breezefeather almost immediately and stared at her quite rudely. Breezefeather blinked to give Paleberry a chance to look away, but she held her gaze.

Breezefeather glared back for a minute before rolling her eyes and focusing on Oakthorn’s announcements. Breezefeather’s fur began to rise when she realized Paleberry was still staring her down. Who ruffled your pelt?

Oakthorn began to drone out patrols and announcements much like he did every morning. He liked being deputy, and Breezefeather liked sleeping in. But only one would suffice for WindClan, and Breezefeather was the tragic loser.

“Congratulations on the three newest warriors,” he began, eyes half-closed as if he couldn’t care less. “Redfire, Runninghare, and” - heavy sigh - “Breezefeather. You are exempt from morning patrols and you are able to join afternoon patrols if you wish.”

“He says that like it’s a burden,” Breezefeather muttered in Redfire’s ear. Her brother snorted, and Oakthorn stopped specifically to glare at them before moving on.

“Heatherdawn will lead the first patrol. Going with her is Larchfall, Cherrydapple, and Stormstripe. Second patrol will be lead by Briartuft. You’ll take Sandhawk, Nettlestorm, Goosewing, and Rosegaze. Apprentices, once you are done patrolling you may train.”

“I can’t wait to be an apprentice!” Breezefeather heard Icefern’s kit pipe up.

“Sorrelkit!” Icefern said between clenched teeth and quite embarrassed. “Hush!”

She craned her neck to see the small tortoiseshell cower behind her mother. “Sorry,” she whispered (still rather loudly). She didn't look very sorry to Breezefeather.

Sandhawk, the kit's father, slapped his face with his paw in embarrassment, but it came off as more hostile to Breezefeather. Icefern’s gaze sharpened at her mate, and Breezefeather looked away. Don’t want to be a part of whatever’s going on there, she decided.

As the patrols began to band together, Finchstar himself parted through the crowd and bid the cats good mornings individually. When he reached the siblings, he gave them a polite nod and gave them another congrats before nearly running straight into Ashpoppy.

“Excuse me,” the ginger tom said quickly, nearly having to look up to reach Ashpoppy’s eye level. Breezefeather’s mother merely stared at the leader unblinkingly before stepping out of the way slowly, watching Finchstar as he dipped his head and moved on.

When Ashpoppy turned to her kits, her expression changed completely. “There are my lovely warriors,” she purred, licking Runninghare’s head affectionately.

“Mooom,” Runninghare groaned, ducking his head away and batting his paws at his forehead. Ashpoppy leaned back and flicked an ear in a silent gesture of laughter.

“Do you think one of us will get to mentor Sorrelkit?” Redfire asked eagerly, glancing at the nursery. Ashpoppy looked thoughtful.

“She's nearly six moons old, but I don’t know. You’re practically still apprentices yourself,” she pointed out. "I'd more have my eye on Flatfoot's kits. Couple moons younger." Breezefeather gave her a sour look.

“I’m almost the same age as Buzzardstrike and Swallowpaw,” she muttered.

“And neither of them have an apprentice yet,” Ashpoppy pointed out swiftly.

Breezefeather opened her mouth to speak when someone shoved up beside her, plopping down between her and Ashpoppy. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes into the back of her head as Oakthorn grunted a greeting.

“It shocks me how none of you even wanted to be on morning patrol,” he complained, licking a paw and drawing it over his small ears slowly.

“Well, we did stay awake all night,” Runninghare pointed out. Breezefeather proved his point with an obnoxiously fake yawn. Oakthorn rolled his eyes.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear Redflame snoring all night,” he retorted. Redfire huffed.

“Redfire,” he muttered under his breath.

“Whatever,” Oakthorn replied breezily. “When I became a warrior, I was thrilled to lead my first patrol.”

“Back when you were a warrior Quickstorm could probably still hear,” Redfire whispered to Breezefeather. When she snickered at the mention of the ancient elder, Oakthorn gave her a sharp glare.

“I wouldn't be laughing,” he snapped, whirling to face her angrily. “At least I passed my assessment the first time.”

Breezefeather reeled back at the reminder of her first failed assessment. She remembered the disapproval in Oakthorn's dark gaze when he found out, but there was always that satisfied glimmer when he brought the subject up. Which was more than often.

“What, I can’t learn from my mistakes?” she growled, feeling her claws knead the grass.

Oakthorn’s lip curled. “Not if you make them every second of the day.”

“You act like all I do is fail!” Breezefeather spat accusingly. “Well guess who became a warrior last night?”

“If you weren’t such a brat all the time it’d be easier to be happy for you!” Oakthorn roared.

“It’d be easier to be happy for me if you acted like I was actually your daughter!” Breezefeather shot back. “And not a burden!”

“Well I’m sorry I get treated like an outsider and you don’t, but-”

“An outside- You’re just jealous that I’m full WindClan and you’re not!” Breezefeather exploded. Oakthorn’s shoulders straightened and his pupils slitted lividly. The rest of her family went silent with rounded eyes.

“Breezefeather.” Ashpoppy’s tail lashed. “That’s enough.”

Breezefeather’s head dropped at her mother’s scolding. “Sorry,” she muttered, not looking at Oakthorn.

“Heritage doesn’t matter,” Oakthorn said slowly. His jaw was twitching. “What matters is that I worked hard to get this far, Breezefeather. Your WindClan pride isn’t going to get you very far when you need it to.”

“Okay, Oakthorn,” Breezefeather meowed snarkily as he padded away, too exhausted to point out the emphasis on his very non-WindClan name.

When he was gone completely, Ashpoppy sighed deeply at Breezefeather.

“Can you get through one conversation without arguing with him?” She sounded exasperated.

“Can he stop acting like he’s the boss of me?” Breezefeather shot back. Ashpoppy took in a long, deep breath.

“He’s the deputy, and your father. He has every right to act that way,” she explained slowly. “When I asked him to be my mate around the time you all were born, I thought I was doing the right thing by giving you all a father. I wasn’t over Sundusk. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”

Ashpoppy’s head fell, and Breezefeather’s whiskers drooped at the reminder of her real father - the one she had never met.

“So please respect him. He’s not Sundusk, but he did agree to be your father,” Ashpoppy urged.

“He’s not doing a very good job,” Redfire muttered. Breezefeather silently agreed. When she was young, she’d ask around camp what Sundusk was like. Most cats avoided the topic, but the ones who would speak (namely Stormstripe, his brother), told Breezefeather that he would have been a great dad. He had been kind, and compassionate, and friendly even in the worst of times. Everything Oakthorn sucked at doing.

“He’s doing his best,” Ashpoppy argued. “So give him a chance, okay? I couldn’t have prevented Sundusk’s death, and this is the next best thing.”

Breezefeather muttered a goodbye as her mother padded away. She snuck a glance at Oakthorn, who was now in a conversation with Lionwhisker and Buzzardstrike. He still looked rather bitter. Breezefeather sighed deeply.

Is Oakthorn really the next best thing?

Chapter Two

It was almost leaf-fall when Breezefeather was coming back from her first Gathering as a warrior. It had been rather uneventful. Breezefeather’s name had been chanted, things seemed tense between RiverClan and ThunderClan, and ShadowClan’s deputy retired. The highlight of the night was it being over.  

The air had grown chillier, and the wind picked up Breezefeather’s fur with unease. She squeezed between Stormstripe and Cherrydapple, a ginger she-cat. The two of them looked thankful for the extra body warmth as the band of cats trekked towards WindClan territory.  

Breezefeather snuck a glance at the front of the patrol. To her surprise, Finchstar had fallen back, and he was talking to Paleberry quietly. Oakthorn had taken up the lead, head high. He spoke to no one, though no one opposed his leadership. Breezefeather’s pelt prickled.

“Why so tense?” Stormstripe muttered, quickly looking at Breezefeather and away again. Breezefeather shrugged stiffly.

“I thought Finchstar was leader.” It was meant as a joke, but it accidentally came off as hostile. Stormstripe let out a low whistle at her tone and examined Oakthorn carefully.

“He is, but who knows how much longer he’s got,” he commented under his breath. “He was deputy when I was a kit - but who knows. That’s none of our business.”

Breezefeather’s eyes rounded and she nearly tripped over her own paws. “You mean he might die soon?” she echoed, casting a worried glance at Finchstar. The yellow tom was definitely one of the elder cats in the Clan, but he wasn’t that old. Not old enough to die.

Stormstripe shook his head. His yellow eyes were wide as he redacted his statement. “Not unless WindClan gets in a war or something. It’s a peaceful season. Prey is plentiful. We’re well stocked for leafbare. Finchstar still has multiple lives, I assume. So I wouldn’t worry too much.” Stormstripe chortled, but his face fell serious when he realized Breezefeather wasn’t laughing with him. “What? Do you want Finchstar to die?”

Breezefeather shook her head quickly. “No, I just…” she trailed off, and her gaze fell on the commanding Oakthorn. They reached the border. The trees faded into an empty night sky. “I don’t know if I’m ready to handle Oakthorn as leader, you know?” this time, she twisted her words to make it seem like a joke. Luckily, Stormstripe laughed lightly.

“Yeah, he’s a tough tom,” he agreed. Breezefeather nodded.

“Not really father material,” she added, shaking out her coat. “ShadowClan thing, huh?”

Stormstripe’s face contorted into confusion. “Really? I always thought it was the opposite of that.”

Breezefeather’s stomach began to tighten at his words. They reached the camp barrier, and she paused until they were at the back of the patrol, left completely alone outside camp. “What do you mean?” she whispered.

Stormstripe shook out his pelt unnervingly. “Oakthorn’s mother - Swiftcloud - she was a WindClan elder when I was an apprentice. She and Oakthorn butted heads more than often. He was pretty upset with his name and heritage, I think.”

Breezfeather’s brows drew together as she remembered her last bicker with Oakthorn, and his menacing last words.

“But he told me heritage wasn’t everything,” she argued. Stormstripe shrugged and sat down.

“I think that’s what he wants himself to believe,” he meowed. “He blamed Swiftcloud for a lot of his problems. He wanted to be leader and he didn’t think it was possible for a cat like him, in WindClan.”

“He’s mad because my siblings are full WindClan and he’s not?” Breezefeather guessed. “He’s turning his anger for Switftcloud on… us?” The words felt hollow in her mouth as she spoke them. But they made sense. She, Runninghare, and Redfire were not tryhards or high ranking, but they were full WindClan. And Oakthorn had ambition running in his bones and blood, but he looked more like a ShadowClan cat than Volestar himself.

Stormstripe chuckled awkwardly. “Look, it might be a stretch, but I always assumed it was something more,” he added hesitantly. “Whenever he’d come and watch me train you, it seemed much harsher than the way he treated your brothers. Hauntingly familiar, even.”

Breezefeather leaned in, ears pricked. Stormstripe’s voice lowered.

“And that’s when it hit me. You look exactly -”

“There you are!”

Breezefeather nearly leapt back as the voice cut her off. Cherrydapple’s head was poked through the gorse barrier, grinning widely. Stormstripe broke into a purr at the sight of her.

“What are you doing back here?” she teased. “Come on, we’re all going to bed soon. Oh, hey Breezefeather!”

Breezefeather muttered a hello, licking down her rumpled chest fur.    

“She’s right. Come on,” Stormstripe added, falling back into his mentor-y air. He jerked his head at the barrier, and Breezefeather followed reluctantly.

She longed to ask him to finish, but by the time she reached camp Cherrydapple had pulled him away.

*

Breezefeather went to sleep more confused than ever. Her mind was haunted with the idea that Oakthorn didn’t like her just because of her heritage. He wasn’t that shallow - was he?

She hadn’t decided when the sun rose the next morning, and her stepfather was pulling together patrols. Breezefeather wove through the sleepy crowd and found Ashpoppy, and she sat beside her mother in a silent goodmorning.

“How did you sleep after the Gathering?” her mother asked softly, turning her head only slightly. Breezefeather shrugged. “Did I miss anything interesting?"

“Ivystar breathing down Greenstar’s throat,” Breezefeather replied simply. “Nothing too interesting.” Ashpoppy smiled quickly, but it faded as Oakthorn emerged and began to band dawn patrols together and began to drone on with morning announcements.

“Gathering went well. Good job WindClan.” Breezefeather rolled her eyes. That’s the most sarcastic thing he’s ever said. Maybe. “Leading the first patrol will be Ashpoppy. Going with her will be Larchfall, Rosegaze, Buzzardstrike, and Icefern. Icefern, are you up to patrolling?”

The white she-cat had emerged from the nursery, stretching her front legs. “Absolutely,” she nodded, flicking her tail at her drowsy kit. “I’d love to stretch my legs.”

“Oakthorn?” Ashpoppy quipped. Oakthorn’s gaze snapped to his mate, and she almost flinched. Breezefeather nearly missed it. “I was on evening patrol last night and I did two hunts. Is it okay if I go later?”

Something angry sparked in Oakthorn’s eyes, and Breezefeather felt a flutter of panic.  

“But you didn’t go to the Gathering?” he pointed out, clearly not liking having his authority questioned. “I’m trying to get cats to go that haven’t stayed up all night."

Ashpoppy nodded, falling into her usual serene calmness. “I know that, Oakthorn. But I don’t think I can lead a patrol right now.”

Ashpoppy’s voice of reason did not tame Oakthorn’s temper, but it did render him speechless for a heartbeat.

“I am doing what I think is best for the Clan,” he meowed, hinting at a growl. The rest of the Clan was whispering anxiously, and Breezefeather hated the attention her parents were getting. Ashpoppy’s chin raised, but her head was trembling.

“And I’m not going to lead that patrol.”

Oakthorn’s lip curled, and Breezefeather fully expected him to leap. “StarClan,” he snarled. This time Ashpoppy flinched, closing her eyes and turning away from Oakthorn as his voice raised to a roar. “This family doesn’t do-”

“I’ll lead the patrol.”

Breezefeather had been shocked by her own voice as she stood protectively in front of Ashpoppy, nearly nose to nose with Oakthorn. She raised her head, ice-blue eyes full of bitter defiance. Ashpoppy opened one fearful eye. The Clan had fallen into a deafening silence, one that Breezefeather hated.

“Who am I taking?” she asked, sweeping her gaze around the crowd. “Icefern? Buzzardstrike? Larchfall and Rosegaze? Good.” She settled her gaze on Oakthorn as she landed her last word, flicking her tail.

Oakthorn grunted. A crow called in the near distance.

“Goosewing will lead the second patrol. Going with her -”

*

“So we’re patrolling next to the ShadowClan border, right?” Breezefeather guessed. She hadn’t been completely paying attention to announcements, since she hadn’t expected to be part of a patrol.

“Fitting,” Buzzardstrike grunted, wiping at his nose with his paw as the patrol padded through wispy grass. Breezefeather’s head jerked around in defense.

“Oh. Haha,” she replied drily, rolling her eyes. “Oakthorn’s daughter joke.”

“Lay your fur flat,” Buzzardstrike huffed, eyes shooting daggers at her sharp response. “I didn’t even say anything.”

Breezefeather rarely felt bad for snapping, and Buzzardstrike was no exception. She moved on.

“Why don’t the both of you drop the attitude for one second?” Rosegaze suggested. She shook her head as she walked. “This Clan runs on drama, I swear.” Breezefeather exchanged a deadly glare with Buzzardstrike before moving on.

No matter how much she loved talking back, she had never picked a fight with Rosegaze. The white she-cat was beyond her years, and some had come to the conclusion that it was due to her odd, pinkish-colored eyes. But Breezefeather always assumed she had something other cats lacked: common sense.

“Personally, I don’t get why Oakthorn’s judgement is so doubted,” Larchfall said loudly, blatantly ignoring Rosegaze as they neared the skyscraping pine trees. Breezefeather resisted the urge to roll her eyes so far into her head that she didn’t have to look at the snobby gray tom anymore. “As his former apprentice, I can confirm. He’s a smart guy, but we haven’t had a good leader in so long that it’s hard to tell.”

“Just ‘cause you’re the oldest here doesn’t mean you know everything,” Breezefeather snapped, unable to contain herself. The entire patrol stopped. “You’ve only seen two leaders.”

Larchfall raised a brow. “As opposed to your, what? One-plus-daddy-issues? That attitude isn’t going to get you very far, sweetie.”

Buzzardstrike laughed, and Breezefeather’s lip began to curl. Icefern looked flustered.

“All of you!” she stammered. “Knock it off!”

“Where’s your father, anyway?” Breezefeather shot back, pretending to think. “Oh, yeah! He’s dead!”

Buzzardstrike’s laughter had faded as memories of Graymouse and Mousepaw resurfaced. But Larchfall leaned in towards her, unaffected by her comeback. “My father was no Sundusk. Because if we’re talking about fathers dying, then yours had it worse. Oh, he had it so much worse.”

That was enough for Breezefeather.

Without a second thought, she unsheathed her claws and scored Larchfall right across the nose. Larchfall shrieked.

“That’s it!” Rosegaze snapped, shoving Breezefeather away. She barely had time to see Larchfall’s head fall in stinging pain, cursing quite loudly.  

Breezefeather stumbled back. Her paws felt numb, but there was something oddly satisfying about silencing Larchfall. She was only snapped back to reality when she was the pink eyes in her face, wide and livid.

“Larchfall is a Clanmate!” Rosegaze accused. “We do not unsheathe claws on our own family, understood?”

Breezefeather’s ice-blue eyes met Larchfall’s navy ones. We’re not family. The thought flashed frantically in her mind, but she merely shook her head and turned away.

No one had ever really brought up Sundusk before. Ashpoppy had, obviously, but only to reassure her children that their father was always watching them. Breezefeather wondered if he was watching her now, or cowering behind the stars in shame.

His death was never in conversation. She’d asked, but only once, and she’d gotten awkward stares and pitiful, avoiding answers. To tell the truth, she had no idea what happened to Sundusk.

So why did Larchfall’s taunt bother her so much?

*

On the way back, Icefern had pulled Breezefeather aside.

“For what it’s worth,” the queen said with quiet laughter in her eyes, “I thought he deserved it.”

Chapter Three

Oakthorn, on the other paw, did not take well the lashing.

Breezefeather felt her claws tear at the grass as Larchfall’s smug grin manifested in her back from across camp. Oakthorn and Finchstar were sitting in front of her with grave disapproval. Ashpoppy had been asked to join them, and Breezefeather hated how her mother looked at her when she was told that her daughter attacked a Clanmate. Breezefeather was humiliated.

I’m not a kit being scolded.

“You scratched Larchfall?” Oakthorn was the one to begin the conversation. He looked absolutely appalled. Ashpoppy’s gaze switched to Breezefeather.

“He was being a jerk,” Breezefeather muttered. Oakthorn’s pupils slitted.

“That’s when you back down and mind your own business,” he growled. Breezefeather huffed.

“When have you ever done that?”

Oakthorn’s lip curled, and Ashpoppy swiftly hit her with her flank in a silent plea to shut up. At her mother’s gesture, Breezefeather dropped her head in shame.

“Breezefeather, in all seriousness, this kind of behavior is not tolerated,” Finchstar added. “Frankly, this kind of behavior from a young warrior worries me.”

“Exactly,” Oakthorn blurted in exasperation.

“Oakthorn, I’m going to ask you to be quiet so I can do my job,” Finchstar warned. Oakthorn’s jaws clamped shut. Breezefeather smiled pleasantly at Oakthorn.

Finally, someone put him in his place.

“You just took the warrior oath a few sunrises ago,” Finchstar went on, reminding Breezefeather why she was talking to him in the first place. “So this will not go unpunished. You will be on apprentice duty for -”

“Hold on,” Ashpoppy butted in, shoving past Breezefeather to meet Finchstar nose-to-nose. “You’re punishing her? For defending herself?”

Finchstar looked taken aback. “Well, she did take it too far -”

Ashpoppy cut him off. “From what Icefern told me, Larchfall was taunting her about her family, and Sundusk.”

Breezefeather’s heart swelled at the idea that the queen defended her, even if she had left out Breezefeather’s insults.

At Sundusk’s name, Finchstar’s eyes widened.

“Are you going to hear Breezefeather’s side before punishing her?” Ashpoppy said with a hint of snarl in her voice. “Or are you just going to make the quick decision?”

“Like you’ve done before,” Oakthorn added, still clearly upset with Finchstar for shutting him up.

Finchstar looked weak. It shocked Breezefeather. He was not a young cat, but his round, fearful eyes made him look like a kit. It was almost like Breezefeather had two parents coming to her defense. That had never happened before.

But something told her this was something more.

Before she could question them, Ashpoppy turned and stalked away. Breezefeather dipped her head at the leader and deputy before following her mother. No word on the punishment.

“Ashpoppy!” she called, breaking into a purr. “That was awesome! Thanks for -”

Her purr faltered when her mother turned around. Her clear blue gaze was suken and angry. “What’s wrong?”

Ashpoppy shook her head. “Finchstar never changes,” she mused, glancing up at the sky. Breezefeather wondered if she was looking for Sundusk, even though the sun had risen. “You would think that after all this time he’d grow up…”

Breezefeather forced her fur flat. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” she suggested. Her mind flashed back to Stormstripe’s wry comments the previous night and even Oakthorn’s agreeing with Ashpoppy. “What did Finchstar do?”

Ashpoppy only sighed.

“Walk with me,” she said.

*

Breezefeather obeyed and followed her mother out of camp in silence. They reached the open moor, where only an ancient fallen log could be seen. In the distance was a barn, so far away that it was only a red speck on the hill.

Ashpoppy continued to walk towards the log.

“Finchstar was not young when he became leader,” she explained. “But he still held the mindset of an apprentice, especially in his first few moons of being leader.”

“How long was he deputy?” Breezefeather asked, wondering how such an old cat could be so impulsive.

“A long time,” Ashpoppy answered, beginning to look frustrated. “He was deputy since I was a kit. He might have been Pinestar’s first deputy, actually.”

“What did he do?” Breezefeather pressed, beginning to get a sickening feeling in her stomach.

“He was a good deputy, but I think the quick change to leader was too much for him to handle,” Ashpoppy explained. “It was so much power. At first we didn’t notice much, but then Skypaw died.”

“Who’s Skypaw?” Breezefeather wondered aloud.

“She was Finchstar’s daughter. From his second litter, with Goosewing and Rosegaze. Anyway, she was Sundusk’s first apprentice. And he was really excited - thrilled, even - to be able to apprentice the new leader’s kits. Because Finchstar gained nine lives right after they were born.”

Her words sent chills down Breezefeather’s spine, even though nothing chilling had been said. Ashpoppy had never talked about Sundusk when he was alive. It sent a brief reminder to Breezefeather that her father had been real and alive. He had been part of WindClan.

Ashpoppy took in a rattling breath. “Anyway, right around the time before you were born, Sundusk had been training Skypaw for a moon or so. Then one day, she wound up dead in the river.” Ashpoppy’s voice broke.

“It was tragic. Sundusk brought her back, absolutely devastated himself. But when he tried to explain what happened to Finchstar, the leader heard none of it. He saw Skypaw’s body in Sundusk’s mouth and put together the only logical conclusion: that Sundusk had killed her. He declared this to the Clan, and they jumped Sundusk. I had to…” Ashpoppy lost her voice as she moved her paws in the air as if she was reliving the moment. “... I had to pry them away from him. My own Clanmates. He was so battered, Breezefeather. When Finchstar stepped back and realized he was still barely alive, he sentenced Sundusk to exile. I was held back as to not follow him and condemned to camp. It took me hours to convince Finchstar that Skypaw’s death was an accident. By the time night fell, I had worked tirelessly with Paleberry. And she couldn’t find a single claw mark on Skypaw's body.”

“Finchstar did realize his mistake, eventually. He sent out patrols that night to find Sundusk and fetch him back. But beside blood streaks outside camp, they found nothing. He was so injured and he had no help. I held onto this hope that Sundusk would come back and visit me, especially because he knew he was going to be a father. But I think I knew he was dead when he never came.”

Breezefeather stared at her mother as she finished her story. Her heart lurched.    

“That’s why nobody talks about Sundusk,” she realized in a gentle whisper. “Because they’re ashamed.”

“Yes.” Ashpoppy’s voice was low so it did not break. “And you know what? I never got an apology. Not from the Clanmates who turned on him. Not even from Finchstar.”

*

Breezefeather held onto that story as the days went on. Strangely enough, it made her antagonize Oakthorn a little bit less as she glared at Finchstar. She’d told her brothers, too, and they were equally as shocked and disappointed.

“So Sundusk might still be out there,” Runninghare had suggested. Breezefeather shook her head. She’d envisioned him in the stars so many times that it was impossible to imagine him alive.  

“Wouldn’t he come back for us?” she pointed out. Redfire had nodded his agreement.

“Ashpoppy said how much he loved her, and us,” he added. “He would have come back for us, right?”

That question was left unanswered.

*

Eventually, as the next moon passed, Breezefeather began to let the story go. She’d fallen back into her daily routine, which she was fine with. Even Oakthorn had begun to quiet down and stay at a comfortable distance from her.

She came back from a rather successful hunt as the sun rose high in the leaf-fall sky, with a rabbit clamped between her jaws.

“That was some catch, huh?” Heatherdawn praised, trotting up beside her. The gray she-cat looked rather pleased, and it gave Breezefeather pride. Heatherdawn was nearly a senior warrior, despite not being much older than Ashpoppy.

The hunt slowed to a stop outside camp when they met up with Paleberry and Swallowpaw, who were headed in the opposite direction.

“Good afternoon, Paleberry,” Heatherdawn greeted with the dip of her head. “Where are you headed?”

“Moonstone,” the medicine cat answered simply. “It’s time Swallowpaw earned his full name.”

Breezefeather nodded and leaned towards her friend as Heatherdawn engaged a conversation.

“Long overdue, if you ask me,” she joked. Swallowpaw hit her playfully.

“Paleberry just kept forgetting about it,” he explained in whisper. “She’s had a lot on her mind lately.”

“Like what?” Breezefeather’s head tipped to the side. Swallowpaw’s eyes rounded.

“She won’t talk to me.”

“Does she forget you’re a medicine cat, too, or-”

Swallowpaw laughed. “StarClan, probably.”

“Swallowpaw,” Paleberry’s voice cut him off. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

Breezefeather stepped back, fur warm, as she gave Swallowpaw one last congratulations. She noticed Paleberry staring at her through narrowed eyes, and Breezefeather forced herself to ignore her. Does she have a problem with me, still? She watched them over her shoulder until he was gone.

When Breezefeather reached camp, she was surprised to see Cherrydapple padding up to her with her tail kinked. In the past moon, she’d become pregnant. Even though the father hadn’t been specified, everyone knew exactly who it was. It was almost like she didn’t need the announcement.

“Hello,” Breezefeather said evenly as the ginger she-cat stopped in front of her. Her belly swayed a bit. “How are you faring with kits?”

“Wonderful,” Cherrydapple purred, licking a paw and drawing it over an ear. “Little bit of prey sensitivity, but that’s a side effect of the pregnancy. First litter’s the worst, huh?”

Breezefeather laughed politely. Of course, Breezefeather had been happy for Stormstripe when Cherrydapple announced her kits. But ever since then, he’d drawn further away from her and closer to Cherrydapple. Breezefeather liked her a lot, but she missed having Stormstripe around. It was like losing a father, but slowly.

She shook her head to clear her selfishness. What am I thinking? He’s not my dad.

“Did you need something?” Breezefeather asked, shifting her paws when she realized Cherrydapple hadn’t left. She didn’t talk to the ginger she-cat much.

“Oh! Finchstar wanted me to fetch you when you returned,” she quipped. Breezefeather felt her stomach drop immediately.

If this is about Sundusk-

“Did he mention what it was about?” she asked cautiously, leaning forward. Cherrydapple paused in thought.

“Let’s see, he asked me like an hour ago - oh! He asked me to get you. I think it’s about mentoring Sorrelkit.”

Breezefeather’s heart leapt and her worried feelings melted away. Icefern’s kits were close to apprenticeship, but Breezefeather never thought she’d get an apprentice so soon!

“Really?” Breeze feather whispered, barely containing a grin.

“Finchstar said you could go in anytime,” she explained. Breezefeather was already on her way with excitement tingling in every step. Cherrydapple’s tail waved in farewell. “Good luck! Tell Finchstar I said hi!”

I probably won’t, Breezefeather thought snarkily, and immediately regretted it. Cherrydapple was a nice cat. Stormstripe was lucky to have her.

Breezefeather paused at the entry of Finchstar’s den, whiskers quivering. It was a small cave behind Tallrock, where Finchstar (more realistically, Oakthorn) made any announcements.

“Finchstar?” she called. Her voice echoed through the cave walls, and she could only see yawning darkness. Breezefeather frowned. Cherrydapple said he was in.

“Hello?” she tried again, this time taking a few steps into the cave. As her eyes adjusted, she could see the yellow figure of Finchstar curled up in his nest, back to her. His flank was rising and falling slowly. Breezefeather smiled pleasently and padded towards him.

“Hey, it’s me,” she said softly, pausing a few feet away. “Is it a bad time? If you want me to come back later, I can -”

She trailed off as a scent caught her nose. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. Whew! Did he fall alseep while eating?

Breezefeather took a couple steps forward to investigate.

Then Finchstar’s head raised, just barely, and curled over his back to stare at Breezefeather with pale, empty eyes. Something dark dribbled from his mouth. Breezefeather stepped back in disgust.

“It’s you,” he wheezed. His eyes were wild and he sounded as if he hadn’t spoken in years.

“Are you ill?” Breezefeather asked in concern. The smell grew nearer. She reached a paw out to help him, but instead she brushed his stomach. She jerked her paw back when she felt a warm, liquid substance drench her toes.

“Finchstar!’ she cried. “You’re bleeding!”

Finchstar held her stare for a moment longer before his head fell. Breezefeather screeched. She placed her paws on his side and shook him, desperate for any movement. She ignored the blood that was splattering on her white paws and pelt.

“Oh, this can’t be happening,” she meowed frantically. “Paleberry and Swallowpaw aren’t here-”

“Breeze,” Finchstar mumbled. A rattling cough cut off the rest of her name. One yellow eye opened and he extended a bloodied paw to Breezefeather’s chest, leaving a red pawprint on her heart. Then Finchstar laughed. It was a bitter, sad laugh. Breezefeather had never heard one like it.

“I knew this was coming. Oak.. he.. Treated like I’m no leader. Watch what happens. They’ll see. He’s no better than…” Breezefeather stepped back. Finchstar sounded completely drugged on poppy seeds as he began to mumble and rock back and forth.

“Who did this to you?” Breezefeather whispered in utter horror. “I’ll get the Clan.” She recalled his slurred words. Oak? As in Oakthorn?

Did Oakthorn do this?

“Can’t remember. Doesn’t matter.” Suddenly Finchstar’s wild moving eyes landed on Breezefeather, and the pawprint on her chest. “Do you really expect them to care?”

“Them… why would they not care?” Breezefeather replied, mainly to herself out of confusion. Finchstar laughed again. This time bubbles gurgled at his wounded throat.

“It’s too late,” Finchstar went on, disregarding her question. “I can can see Cloudpetal, and Skypaw. I can … see Skypaw…”

“No!” Breezefeather roared. Her eyes rounded as she recognized the names of his dead mate and daughter.

This is his last life.

“Finchstar!” Breezefeather called, shaking the yellow leader. “Don’t go with them!”

Finchstar laughed, only once this time.

“Time goes on,” he mumbled, almost incoherently. This time, thousands of unknown voices circled his own. “Tick tock.”

“Finchstar!” Breezefeather repeated. “Can you hear me?”

“Time goes on, and history repeats itself. It doesn’t stop. Tick tock. You can’t stop it, Breeze.”

“Finchstar! Wait!”

“Tick, tock.”

Finchstar’s eyes rolled wildly.

“Tick tock.”

Breezefeather lunged for him.

“Tick tock.”

His head began to fall.

Time slowed.

“Tick-”

He was dead before he hit the ground.

Chapter Four

Breezefeather barely had time to step back. She barely had time to breathe.

“Finchstar!”

Breezefeather spun around with wide eyes. Briartuft skidded to a half at the entrance, breathing heavily.

“I heard a commotion,” she gasped. “Is everything okay?”

Breezefeather’s mouth moved, but no words came out. Briartuft’s eyes narrowed and she took a step forward.

“Why are you leaning over Finchstar like that?” she growled in suspicion.

Breezefeather stepped back. Finchstar’s delusioned voice rung in her head.

Tick tock.

“I was-”

“Is that blood?”

Breezefeather numbly reached up to touch her chest. The pawprint had dried onto her fur, a crimson reminder.

“Finchstar died,” she managed, still quite in shock herself. Briartuft’s eyes slitted to nearly nothing.

“What?” she snapped. Breezefeather began to answer, but the calico wasn’t done. Briartuft’s head jerked up and met Breezefeather’s wild gaze. “But he had three li- you have blood on your paws.”

“I was trying to move the body!” Breezefeather told truthfully in a half panic. Briartuft’s breathing stifled into a gasp. Her gaze did not tear away from her father’s still body. Realization slowly flooded into her sad green eyes.

“You killed him.”

“No, no, no,” Breezefeather took a step towards Briartuft, but the calico tore away from her. “I didn’t-”

Her stomach tightened when she realized Briartuft was storming out of the den. She’s going to tell the Clan I killed Finchstar!

“Briartuft!” she bellowed, almost catching up to the she-cat. Briartuft walked faster until she was nearly in a run for the center of camp. “Wait! Just listen to me!”

Briartuft did not listen. Instead she scrambled atop Tallrock, and let out a broken caterwaul. Breezefeather’s heart quickened as she realized she could not make the jump. Instead she stood by the base of the rock. Her hopes fell.

“Cats of WindClan!” Briartuft called, gaze hardening. The cats gathered up, more focused on Briartuft than Breezefeather. There was mumbling from the crowd.

“Is she allowed to call a meeting?” Runninghare asked doubtfully. His hunt had returned. Beside him, Nettlestorm shrugged.

“She’s FInchstar’s daughter, so I suppose-”

“Not anymore.” Briartuft’s firm mew silenced the confused Clan. "Just now, I witnessed the murder of Finchstar.”

Panicked cries rose up from the crowd. Breezefeather hid behind Tallrock and rapidly began to clean the blood from her paws. She gagged at the metallic taste, but she had managed to turn dark red to pinkish. She inwardly groaned. Fantastic.

“Where’s the rogue that killed him?” Buzzardstrike challenged. “I’ll take him on myself.”

“Not a rogue.” Briartuft’s voice broke. “One of our own.”

This time the protests were laced with fear.

“Who would do that?” Cinderpaw wailed, pressing up against her sister Rainpaw for comfort.

“Not one of us,” Icefern growled in denial, sweeping her tail in front of her kit. Almost my apprentice, Breezefeather remembered, glancing at the tortoiseshell fur of Sorrelkit. “Not a WindClan cat.”

“Obviously is was one of us,” her mate Sandhawk snapped.

Icefern whirled around to face him, blue eyes full of fire. “I didn’t ask you!” she snarled.

Sandhawk’s unsheathed paw came down on Icefern’s head, so fast that many of the surrounding cats nearly missed it. Breezefeather stifled a gasp. Sorrelkit squealed and scrambled back. When Sandhawk’s angry gaze landed on her, Icefern stepped between them.

“Don’t you dare.” her voice trembled. “Not Sorrelkit. Not again.”

“You mean someone in WindClan killed Finchstar?” Redfire called out. Briartuft nodded, once. “Why would someone do that?”

“I’ll tell you.”

A large cat pushed to the front of the crowd. Breezefeather’s heart dropped for the millionth time when she recognized the sneering voice.

Oakthorn’s yellow eyes were glowing, like Finchstar’s death didn’t affect him in the slightest.

Of course it doesn’t, Breezefeather thought scornfully. It does nothing but help you. Couldn’t even act surprised.

“There is a cat in this Clan that knows that if Finchstar was dead, her family would grow in the rankings. Favor her, maybe make her deputy. And fancy it works out, because Finchstar killed her father.”

Murmurs broke out as WindClan realized who Oakthorn was talking about. The new leader took a few steps before taking a tremendous leap atop the Tallrock. Briartuft slipped aside, glaring into the crowd.

Oakthorn scanned the throng, and Breezefeather squeezed her eyes shut and sent up a silent prayer to StarClan. Show mercy on me, Sundusk.

Then Oakthorn’s head turned. Breezefeather felt the yellow eyes land on her.

“Come out, Breezefeather.”

Numbly, Breezefeather emerged from the base of Tallrock. Gasps followed her, and she shakily raised her head. Sobs rang out, and Breezefeather could point out all of Finchstar’s grieving daughters.

Oakthorn was still staring at her.

“Yes, Oakthorn?” Breezefeather swallowed a lump in her throat. Oakthorn’s thick tail flicked.

“You killed Finchstar."

It wasn’t even a question. Oakthorn spoke like he was reciting the warrior code. Breezefeather recoiled at the apprehensive murmurs. She took a shaking step towards Oakthorn. He beckoned her in the very front of the throng, so close that she could feel Nettlestorm’s breath on her neck.

“Tell them why you did it,” Oakthorn commanded, roughly nudging her with his shoulder. Breezefeather took a shuddering breath and blinked thoughtfully. Knowing Oakthorn, he would make the Clan take his side.

And she was not going to let him do that.

She found Redfire and Runninghare in the crowd. Runninghare was standing, appalled, and Redfire’s mouth was open. She shook her head quickly before looking back at Oakthorn.

“I didn’t kill him,” she murmured. A few of the cats close to her began talking softly amongst themselves.

“What was that?” Oakthorn dared her to speak again, unsheathing his claws.  Breezefeather looked him directly in the eye from her spot on the ground.

“I didn’t kill Finchstar,” she repeated confidently, raising her head.

“Really,” Oakthorn replied flatly. “There is much evidence, Breezefeather. Obviously Briartuft is freaking out for a reason. There’s blood on your chest."

“Because she was attacking him,” Briartuft whispered. Her voice was now hoarse with grief. Breezefeather’s tongue rasped her chest and the bloody pawprint instinctively, and she cursed the blood she’d forgotten to wash away.

“I found him, when he was still alive,” she growled honestly. “I was trying to help him get out of the den.”

“She’s lying!” Buzzardstrike hissed angrily. “I can smell her fear scent!”

“She quarreled with Larchfall only this moon!” Sandhawk echoed.

“Breezefeather’s being too secretive!”

Before she knew it, cats were suggesting ways of revenge and torture. And for the first time, Breezefeather realized they did not believe her.

Blind her

Drive her out

Kill her

“All the evidence points at you, Breezefeather,” Oakthorn pointed out, narrowing his eyes in deep thought.

“You only think she did it because she looks like your mother!”

The clearing turned deathly silent for a moment.

Breezefeather’s heart skipped a beat as a tom pushed through the crowd. Runninghare jutted out his chin and stood by his sister protectively.

“That’s right,” he went on. His blue eyes flashed around him nervously as he spoke publicly. “I put it all together, Oakthorn. You’ve always picked on Breezefeather. I asked around. Turns out you had a problem with your mother, Swiftcloud. The white and silver tabby, right? Sleek fur? Blue eyes?”

Breezefeather’s eyes widened as she recognized her own description. But as Oakthorn looked down at her, and hatred flickered in his eyes, it made sense.

She was the most picked on out of her siblings. She was the most hated for being full WindClan.

She was the most hated because she looked unflinchingly like Swiftcloud. The cat who had wronged him.

Redfire stepped up on Breezefeather’s other side.

“Yeah!” he shouted. His voice echoed throughout the cats. “You pick on Breezefeather just because she looks like Swiftcloud!”

“Whatever quarrel I had with my mother is over,” Oakthorn denied, beginning to look uncomfortable. “She’s dead, and Breezefeather just murdered Finchstar. Let’s focus on that.”

But now Breezefeather had regained her confidence. Her mind flashed back to Ashpoppy’s conversation a moon ago. Surely Oakthorn wasn’t going to be as rash as Finchstar was with Sundusk?

“Wait!” she bellowed. Stares turned back on her. “You haven’t heard my side of the story.”

Oakthorn’s lip curled. “I don’t need to.”

Breezefeather’s eyes widened as her plan crumbled. She desperately wished Ashpoppy to come to her defense, but she could not locate her mother in the crowd.

“Briartuft, did you see Breezefeather kill Finchstar?” Oakthorn turned to the calico. Briartuft glared at Breezefeather with more hatred than Breezefeather thought possible. Without a word, she nodded. There was a respectful silence, and Breezefeather could see Lionwhisker and Heatherdawn round the corner, dragging the bloodied Finchstar. Oakthorn turned back to Breezefeather. “You see? That’s all we need.”

“That’s all you needed for Sundusk, too, right?” Breezefeather blurted. Now she was just speaking, and she didn’t much care what she said. “You killed him. And he didn’t hurt anyone. You… you… you're no better than Finchstar.”

Her breathing grew heavy as she turned to scan WindClan. They refused to meet her eye, and Breezefeather felt anger bubble inside her.

You all killed my father.

All of you.

“What Sundusk saw,” Oakthorn said simply, “Was justice. Breezefeather, I sentence you to exile. Any cat who-”

Breezefeather's heart skipped a beat. She stared at Oakthorn to see if he was serious.

“Wait,” Breezefeather interrupted. “You actually believe killing Sundusk was right?”

Oakthorn ignored her and went on with a glare. “Any cat who wants to speak up for her may go with her.”

Breezefeather paused, waiting. She could hear her own heart thumping against her bloodied chest.

Runninghare stepped away.

No cat spoke.

All she felt was betrayal.

A path formed as Breezefeather numbly padded towards the exit of camp. Her departure was completely silent.

“I can’t believe this,” she heard Stormstripe murmur, his voice coated with disappointment. Her mentor was pressed up against Cherrydapple. His stare was hollow.

“Thanks, mom,” she muttered dryly as she stalked passed Ashpoppy. Her mother didn’t speak. She had never spoken up to Oakthorn before, and today was no different.

Breezefeather wanted to look at her, she wanted to see the beautiful blue eyes one last time. But she knew that betrayal would cloud Ashpoppy’s clear gaze. And she was so, terribly afraid to see that.

Because she thinks you killed Finchstar, a voice inside Breezefeather’s head hissed. Just like they all think Sundusk killed Skypaw.

“Like father like daughter,” Larchfall sneered. Breezefeather shot him a glare but did not say anything as she ducked out of camp.

They all killed an innocent cat.

And they exiled another one.

Suddenly Finchstar's delusional words began to make sense.

Time goes on, and history repeats itself.

Tick, tock.

Breezefeather felt a blanket of cold wash over her as she exited camp for the last time, but she barely made it two steps before she nearly walked straight into Icefern.

The queen had somehow snuck out of camp and taken Sorrelkit with her. The near-apprentice was sitting beside her mother in confusion. Instead of fear of Breezefeather, Icefern met her gaze evenly.

“Icefern, I have to get out of here,” Breezefeather muttered, shaking. She squeezed her eyes shut to clear her mind of the hisses of her Clanmates. “I- you saw what happened.” But Icefern stayed planted firmly in her spot. Icefern looked at Sorrelkit. Something about her was longing, but she cleared her throat in determination.

“I know. And I want you to take Sorrelkit with you.”

Whatever Breezefeather had imagined, this was not it.

“What- why?” she exclaimed. “I was exiled for murder, and you want me to take a… a kit? Your kit?”

Clearly Sorrelkit had not expected it either.

“Whoa, whoa,” she stammered, scrambling away from her mother. “I was not told I’d be following her into exile.”

Icefern closed her eyes and took a breath.

“I know you didn’t kill Finchstar,” she replied to Breezefeather after a moment thick with tension. “You know it too. And I know how…” Icefern’s voice shook with emotion. “I know how unfair Oak thorn was. And I don’t want my kit growing up in his Clan.”

“What about Sandhawk?” Breezefeather whispered. “Does he-”

“Know about this? No,” she growled. Icefern turned to the side, where Breezefeather saw the long scar down her flank. “See that? It’s from Sandhawk.” Breezefeather was taken aback.

“You mean-“       

“Yes. He’s no mate or father. And Sorrelkit knows just as well as I do. Please take care of her.”

Breezefeather looked towards the kit. Sorrelkit had taken a sudden interest in her paws. For the first time, she saw a long, snaking scar across Sorrelkit’s cheek. Suddenly every interaction between Sandhawk’s family made sense.

He was abusive, and a bad father. Breezefeather could almost understand what that was like, but at the same time, Sandhawk had laid claws on a kit.        

“I will,” Breezefeather promised, nudging Sorrelkit towards her. She felt a new wave of respect for the queen, who was willing to give up her kit for Sorrelkit's safety.

“Thank you,” the queen whispered, her voice cracking and faltering. “There’s a reason I wanted you to be her mentor. You- you have a good heart, Breezefeather.” Then she turned tail and darted farther into the woods.

Breezefeather nudged Sorrelkit to her paws and turned towards Twolegplace. She had no idea where she was going, just far away from WindClan.

She had never felt so much hate. Sorrelkit walked beside her in mostly silence until they had made it to the end of WindClan territory, past the ancient log.

A roll of thunder echoed in the distance. It was beginning to get cold.

“Hey, do you have any idea where we’re going, Breezefeather?” Sorrelkit piped up, taking large steps over the tall, unkempt grass. Breezefeather ignored her and hardened her face.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. Sorrelkit huffed and kept walking.

Stupid WindClan, she growled inwardly. They didn’t even care that they killed Sundusk. They didn’t even want to admit that they were wrong.

Well guess what, Oakthorn?

You were wrong again.

Only this time, you made one fatal mistake.

You let me go alive.

Rain began to trickle down, coating Breezefeather’s pelt, feet and heart with ice. She closed her eyes and relished it. She opened them to the annoyance that Sorrelkit was speaking again.

“Okay, but realistically, where the heck are we going?” Breezefeather rolled her eyes and didn't answer. “It’s raining. And cold. Breezefeather. Hey. Breezefeather?”

“What did I say?” Breezefeather snarled. “Don’t -” Breezefeather stopped walking, unsheathing her claws. She whirled to face the rambunctious kit with a snarl, but she stopped. Sorrelkit stared up at her with a grinning rebellion in her blue eyes. The eyes were familiar, almost.

She reminded Breezefeather of herself. She sighed deeply.

I promised Icefern. You’re all I have left of that stupid, backstabbing Clan.

She took in a breath, composed herself, and tried again. “Don’t call me that anymore,” she said gently. “My… my name is Breeze.”

Chapter Five

“What were you thinking?”

Paleberry winced as the black she-cat bared her teeth and raised a paw.

“Pinestar, no. Hitting her won’t solve anything.”

The black she-cat swung her head around, but her paw began to slowly lower. Paleberry dipped her head in thanks as the third and final cat rose from his spot. The glowing transparency of StarClan had hardly surprised Paleberry when she fell asleep the night of Breezefeather’s exile. The night Oakthorn would become Oakstar.

Pinestar’s shoulders slumped. “Well, Paleberry, let me rephrase without my paw in the air: what were you thinking?”

Paleberry stared at the dead leader with a cool gaze. “I couldn’t have helped Breezefeather. I wasn’t in camp. You know that, Pinestar.”

Pinestar’s nose curled. “I sent you a dream moons ago!” she spat, beginning to pace in frustration. “And what did you do? You gave Breeze the cold shoulder and deliberately ignored me.”

“Breeze,” Paleberry huffed, still not used to the name Breezefeather had dubbed herself.

“Yes, Breeze,” Pinestar snapped. “A fitting name… for a rogue.”

“Which is what she is,” Paleberry added. Pinestar brought up one paw and rubbed her face in annoyance.

“No, Paleberry, she’s not... supposed to be. Do you even remember the dream I sent you?”

Paleberry paused in thought. “Yes. There was a tom, and he was getting exiled. Looked like he was from a Clan.”

Pinestar’s green gaze was crackling. “And do you remember what he said? Before he left?”

Something in Paleberry’s eyes began to glow. Realization, maybe, or guilt.

“He didn’t speak much,” she recalled.

“Because the group of cats didn’t listen. I showed you the exile of an innocent cat,” Pinestar said, trying to keep her patience in check. “You would think that after Sundusk, you idiots would understand -”

“Pinestar.” The tom spoke again, slowly. One emerald eye flickered to him as he rose to his paws. “I think Paleberry gets it.”

Paleberry nodded at him thankfully.

“This isn’t a ‘learn from your mistakes’ type thing, Graymouse,” Pinestar told him. “I’m not saying that that Clan went downhill the minute I died - eventhoughitdid-”

“What?” Paleberry’s head raised.    

“Nothing. I sent you that omen for a reason, Paleberry,” Pinestar growled. “That cat was obviously not supposed to be exiled. I put a feather by your den at her ceremony. Did you not know? Obviously you knew. You spent a whole moon glaring at Breeze.”

Paleberry did not answer.

“Pinestar, will all due respect, I think that now that it’s over, it’s over.” Graymouse didn’t even flinch when Pinestar turned at him, eyes narrowed. “Breeze has moved on from the Clans.”

“This is why my Clan is jeopardized,” Pinestar growled, flexing her claws. “Because you have no idea how much this will backfire.”

Paleberry’s ears pricked. “How so? Breezefeather - er, Breeze - she isn’t part of a prophecy or anything, right?”

Pinestar shook her head. “No. But keeping her in WindClan is vital. I don’t know why you fail to see that. You just killed cats, Paleberry."

"No one is dead."

Pinestar bared her teeth, and the medicine cat recoiled. "They might be soon! Now that we can’t see Breeze any more, we don’t know what path she’ll take. You know her impulse and her issues with Oakthorn. She won’t take this lightly.”

Paleberry’s whiskers twitched. “You didn’t seem this worried when Sundusk was wrongly exiled.”

Pinestar leaned in menacingly. “That’s because this one is alive.”

“Why don’t we just find Finchstar, then?” Paleberry suggested, taking a hopeful step forward. Pinestar blocked her path.

“There’s a flaw in that plan,” Graymouse said with narrowed eyes. “We can’t find Finchstar anywhere. We don’t know if he’s angry, or hiding, but-”

Paleberry’s eyes widened at the idea of her father missing entirely. "He's not in StarClan?"

“He's here somewhere, but without him, we can’t prove anything,” Pinestar said, shaking her head. Tiredness strained her voice. Paleberry’s brows drew together.

“Oakthorn won’t listen to StarClan if you tell him?” Paleberry echoed, glancing behind her. The deputy had walked with her to the Moonstone that night, to receive his nine lives. But he was sleeping soundly behind her, not yet blessed with the StarClan cats.

Pinestar glared. “A leader who hates the cat he exiled leading a Clan that won’t learn from last exile,” she replied drily. “Oakthorn won’t hear a lick of it without proof. And we don’t have that.”

“We don’t even know who really killed Finchstar,” Graymouse added. He and Pinestar exchanged a glance. “We don’t see all, contrary to popular belief.”

“Then how do you know Breeze is innocent?”

“We could sense anger and frustration before she left,” Pinestar explained smoothly. “StarClan cats are WindClan cats, but wiser. So we are able to look past a cat and see what they feel.”

“We don’t have the pride we once did, now that we’ve left the Clan life behind,” Graymouse added. “And WindClan… they’re a proud Clan.”

Pinestar snorted. “Too proud to admit to their mistakes.”

A silence passed between them.

“So what now?” Paleberry whispered. She looked crushed.

Pinestar shrugged. “We wake up Oakthorn. We give him nine lives. You go back to WindClan and live out your life. But you better watch your back, Paleberry. Because your ignorane could possibly lead to the downfall of my Clan.”

Paleberry took a horrified step back as the clearing lit up brilliantly. Someone stepped up beside her, looking amazed. Seven more cats joined them, some that Paleberry recognized and some she did not. Pinestar’s glowering green stare never stopped burning into Paleberry.

“Welcome to StarClan, Oakthorn. For your first life, I give you forgiveness.”

Chapter Six

Breeze glanced up uncertainly. The rain showed no signs of slowing and had only poured down harder as she trekked further.

“Okay, Breeze,” Sorrelkit said, saying Breeze’s name painfully slow, “that was a cool dramatic name change and all, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s raining and we have no shelter.”

Breeze kept walking. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I’d love to turn around and head back to WindClan, where we could sit under gorse bushes and watch the rain with cats who don’t want us dead.”

Sorrelkit paused in thought. “I feel like that solely applies to you.”

Breeze forced a wry smile. “There, you’re not so dumb after all.”

Sorrelkit fluffed up, but the rain pushed her pale pelt down. “It wasn’t my dumb idea to follow you into exile.”

“Great! That doesn’t change the fact that it happened.”

“At least WindClan still likes me.”

“They won’t after Icefern tells them where you went.”

Sorrelkit stared onward angrily. Breeze herself began to wonder what Icefern would tell the Clan, perhaps that a fox took Sorrelkit, or she wandered off in the rainstorm. Or, possibly, she could tell them the truth.

“Icefern won’t tell them that I went with you,” Sorrelkit said bitterly. “She’s not that dumb, even though this whole idea was pretty stupid in the first place. Sandhawk would lose his mind.”

Breeze felt her heart go out to the kit. She had nearly forgotten Icefern’s words about how abusive her mate was. In the pounding rain, Breeze could almost see the raking scar across Sorrelkit’s cheek. She softened.

“Hey, if you wanna talk about anything-”

“I’m good,” Sorrelkit interrupted coldly. Whatever emotion Breeze had felt immediately hardened up. “It’s too cold too talk.”

“If you keep talking about how cold it is, it makes it worse,” Breeze muttered, ears flattening against her head. Sorrelkit’s defiant blue gaze stared at her.

“If you hadn’t murdered Finchstar we wouldn’t be cold in the first place!” she blurted. Breeze stopped dead. Slowly, she turned her head to stare at the tortoiseshell, who realized the mistake as soon as it left her mouth. Breeze’s lip curled, and she didn’t even feel the tinge of the rain for a long moment.

“What did you say?” she growled. Sorrelkit’s eyes widened, but she stood her ground.

“You know what I said.”

“And you know I didn’t kill Finchstar.”

There was a long moment of tense glaring before Breeze shook her head, sending water droplets flying everywhere.

“Look. I didn’t come with you to protest justice, I came here because I had to,” Sorrelkit snarled. “I don’t know who killed Finchstar, and I don’t really care. I want to go home.”

Breeze sighed heavily. This was never going to work anyway - having an innocent companion follow her into exile. Although, Sorrelkit was acting the opposite of innocent.

“If you want to go home, fine,” Breeze huffed. “But I’m not taking you there.”

“Why?”

“I can’t.” Breeze began walking again, further away from WindClan. “I’m not a WindClan cat. The entire Clan thinks I killed someone I didn’t and I’m not welcome there. I’m…” Breeze trailed off and swallowed before forcing the word. “I’m a rogue.”

“Well ain’t that the story.”

Breeze and Sorrelkit both whirled around at the new voice. Breeze squinted and unsheathed her claws instinctively as the figure of a cat, hidden in the rain except a silhouette, emerged towards them. His chuckle was carried off into the breeze and echoed ominously.

Breeze took a protective step in front of Sorrelkit. “We mean no harm, if we were trespassing,” she said quickly, narrowing her icy eyes.

The new tom stepped closer so that Breeze could see faint yellow eyes inspecting her closely.

“Yeah, you’re tresspassin,” he sad finally. “But you’re not doin’ no harm.”

Breeze stepped back in confusion. “Then why are you talking to us?”

The tom didn’t hesitate. “Kid, you’ve got a kit and you’re stuck in this terrible rainstorm,” he explained. “I’ve got a nice warm barn just up that hill, if you don’t fancy freezin’ to death.”

Sorrelkit lurched forward eagerly, but Breeze stopped her with her paw. “Why are you helping us?” she asked suspiciously. Loners around WindClan weren’t too lenient - but then again, Breeze wasn’t a WindClan cat.

The tom’s gaze met hers, and something flashed in his eyes. “You’re from an allegiance?” he asked finally. Breeze and Sorrelkit exchanged a glance. I guess?

“Uh, yeah,” Breeze said hesitantly. “WindClan.”  

The tom nodded. “Right. Well I used to be a part of one of those as well.” Something in his yellow gaze darkened. “Same thing happened to me - you said you were wrongly chased out?” His tail flicked as he turned away. “Bunch’a stupid cowards is what they were.”

Breeze’s heart skipped a beat. The tom began to slowly disappear, and she was still staring at him.

“Well?” he hollered over his shoulder. “Are'ya coming or not?”

“Yes!” Breeze exclaimed breathlessly, hopping forward and nudging Sorrelkit ahead. Sorrelkit looked at her with wide eyes and a silent scream.

“What are you doing?” she hissed so that only Breeze could hear. “We don’t know him!”

“I think we can trust him,” Breeze replied without hesitation. A roll of thunder broke over her head. “The rain isn’t stopping he’s our only chance.”

Sorrelkit moved on with a  grumble.

They had nearly reached the barn when the tom began to speak again.

“You got a name, kid?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at Breeze.

“Um, Breeze,” she said loudly. The tom’s gaze flickered to Sorrelkit.

“This one?”

“Sorrel,” Sorrelkit replied without skipping a beat. Breeze looked down at her sharply. “You can have a cool name and I can’t?” she huffed under her breath. She cut off in a sneeze.

“What about you?” Breeze demanded, staring at the tom. The warm red glow of the barn was close now. Sorrel scampered ahead to reach it first.

“I get called Rowan,” the tom introduced. Breeze ducked into the barn, and warmth engulfed her as she stepped out of the rain. Her ears were faintly roaring, but she didn’t much care.

Now that they were out of the rain, Breeze could see Rowan clearly. He was a rather large tom, though Breeze suspected it had to do with his longer fur. He was a dark ginger tom with a square face and the same careful yellow eyes Breeze had seen outside in the rain.

“So where are you from?” Breeze asked politely, grooming the water from her pelt.

“That’s a story for later,” Rowan said, padding past her and heading towards Sorrel. The kit sneezed again, and Breeze realized that she looked miserable. “Right now, your daughter looks like she’s gonna come down with something.”

“Oh, no no no,” Breeze corrected quickly, following Rowan to a hay-filled corner of the barn. “She’s not my daughter.”

“For the sake of my pity and tolerance, we’re going to pretend that she is,” Rowan replied, stopping in front of Sorrel. “Do me a favor, kid, and wait somewhere else. I’m gonna check up on this one. Make sure she ain’t sick or nothin.” Much to Breeze’s annoyance, he stopped talking and merely muttered something indistinct to Sorrel.

Breeze waited patiently by the entrance, watching the rain as the sun began to set. Oakthorn is probably on his way to the Moonstone right now, she realized, to receive his nine lives as leader.

She felt a sickening feeling in her belly. She had never wanted Oakthorn to die, but she knew that she would probably be around when that time came. And she didn’t mind that. But now he had nine lives. Breeze shook her head.

You’re done with WindClan, she reminded herself.

A few more minutes of wistful watching passed before Rowan brushed up beside her, sitting down. The two sat in silence for a moment before Breeze spoke.

“How is she?” she asked quietly.

“Your not-daughter? She’ll live,” Rowan grunted. “She’s sound asleep. Now that she’s not in any danger, you can tell me your story.”

Breeze gave him a sidelong glance. “Why do you care what my story is?”

Rowan grumbled. “I like hearing new stories. Fern and Java - they’re barn cat’s too, but they’re owned by some Nofurs over there. They're great, but I’d rather die than hear another thrilling saga about their new brand of housecat food.”

Breeze giggled. “Fern and Java - they live in the barn too?”

“Most of the time. Their owners took them in for the storm.”

“Why were you out in the storm, anyway?”

“I asked the same of you first.”

Breeze gave him a sour look. “Whatever. It’s really not that exciting: our leader - his name was Finchstar - got murdered and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Rowan’s yellow eyes widened, and Breeze stared into them a moment too long. “No kidding. Who really killed him?”

Breeze shrugged. “I don’t know. But I have a faint idea.” Rowan stared at her imploringly. Breeze sighed. “My stepfather Oakthorn is second in line to become leader. He’s been out to get me since who knows when for his own stupid reasons. When he saw the opportunity, he banished me. But there’s always the chance that he wasn’t so innocent himself.”

“What about the little one?” Rowan asked. Something seemed off about him, but Breeze couldn’t quite place what. “Why’d she go with you if she’s not related or anything?”

“Her mother thought it was best if she went with me,” Breeze explained. “Better her go with the wrongly accused than the wrongly accusing.”

Rowan nodded. “That makes sense. For future reference, just tell cats she’s your daughter. Gets you pity points.”

“Her father abused her. I think that’s part of the reason she came with me.”

Rowan’s brows raised. “No one can lay claws on a kit and call themselves a tom,” he declared. “That really stinks. All of it.”

Breeze looked at him quickly. “You don’t doubt my story?” she whispered. That was a first.

Rowan shook his head. “Nope. The same thing happened to me, kid.”

Breeze stared at him closely.

Then she understood what had changed.

“You dropped the accent!” she blurted upon realization. Rowan blinked, and for once his yellow eyes rounded.

“I ain’t got no idea what you’re talkin about,” he mumbled hastily, falling back into the barncat accent. Breeze rose to her paws and faced him in astonishment.

“You were talking like… like me!” she added. “Like a Clan cat!”

“Was not.”

Rowan’s eyes slitted. Breeze stared into them for a long time.   

And just like that, everything clicked.

The ginger fur.

The fake accent.

The treading on WindClan territory.

The wrong exile.

“You were wrongly exiled from WindClan, too!” she exclaimed. “Before I was born!”

“Before you were born maybe, but not from WindClan,” Rowan growled. He dropped the accent flatly. Breeze’s chin raised.

“I think I know more than you think I do,” she said. Rowan scoffed.

“About my own exile.”

“Yep.”

Rowan began to walk further into the barn, back to her. “Kid, you’re too headstrong for your own good. I’m no WindClan cat.”

Breeze stiffened at the insult. “But you were!”

Rowan paused.

“Why are you so nosy about by backstory?” he growled, turning his head so that Breeze could see one yellow eye. “Why are you insisting I’m something I’m not?”

Breeze rose to her paws. The misting rain and red sunset illuminated her pelt so that she looked almost ginger, too.

“Because I’m your daughter.”

Rowan froze. His pupils slitted to nearly nothing.

“Wha-”

Breeze watched exasperation flood into Rowan’s eyes. “Oh my g- I’ve never even had - you can’t play me like that, kid.”

Breeze’s tail flicked. “What do you mean?”

Rowan began to walk towards her. “I’m not your dad. I’m not anyone’s dad.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because… I know how reproduction works?” he guessed. “I. Am. Not. A. Father.”

Breeze’s hopes begin to fall.

“So you don’t know Finchstar? Or Stormstripe? Or… Or Ashpoppy?” she whispered, crestfallen. Rowan looked thoughtful before shaking his head.

“Nope. Don’t ring a bell.”

“You’re lying.”

Rowan’s neck fur bristled. “How would you even know that? I’m not a WindClan cat. I don’t know them.”

Breeze took a hopeful step towards him. Rowan sighed deeply.

“Okay, so I’ve heard the names around. Some of them. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“My hopes are just about as low as they can get,” Breeze said.

An awkward silence passed between them, and Breeze felt warm embarrassment tinge her fur after her accusation.

“So what happened to him?” Rowan asked finally. The rain drummed softly on the roof. “Your father?”

Breeze looked at the ground. “Same thing that happened to you and me. Wrong exile. He got chased out and was battered pretty badly. Everyone assumed he was dead.”

“How’d they know that?”

Breeze closed her eyes. “He didn’t come back for my mother. Or me.”

“Jeez, kid. That’s awful.” Rowan shook out his thick pelt. “What’s up with your allegiance and wrongful exiles?”

Breeze shrugged. “What’s wrong with yours?”

It occurred to her then that Rowan had never told her where he was from. She looked at him questioningly. He had the fur of a ThunderClan cat, but he was sleek and much too large. “What… is yours?”

Rowan raised his head. “I suppose it’s only fair you hear my side of the story,” he meowed slowly. “I am from a place called the Allegiance, in the woods just beyond this barn.”

Breeze glanced out the open barn door. Surely enough, Rowan was right - beyond ThunderClan’s vast territory was a strip of land that was unknown to the cats.

“I’ve never heard of it,” she said.

“We stay well hidden,” he explained, almost proudly. “Legend foretells that when the Clan cats moved to these woods, the rogues and loners who opposed their systems came together many moons later and formed the Allegiances far away from Clan territories.”

Breeze looked at him. “Are you enemy to the Clans?”

“No. The point was to avoid them. There’s so many, and we’re so few… anyway, I was born to Thorn, the leader of the Allegiance. In our culture, the heir to the leader takes over after the leader passes.”

Breeze listened in wonder as a new cat practically emerged from Rowan. He’d dropped the accent entirely, and now he sounded like a StarClan cat.

“I was getting along rather well, but it was pretty widely known that I was a pretty ambitious cat.” Rowan paused to chuckle. “I was very close to my father political-wise, per say, and we planned much of Allegiance life together. One night, I was eating with Thorn and he started convulsing out of nowhere. We ate in his den, so it was very private - only when I came out screaming for help that other cats realized something was wrong.”

Breeze blinked in astonishment. “You don’t have a medicine cat?”

Rowan shook his head. “We have minimal knowledge of herbs. The only reason I could heal Sorrel is because Fern taught me willingly. I feared the same thing happening to someone else, and I want to be able to help next time.”

Breeze nodded. “Very noble,” she said cheekily. Rowan scoffed.

“Yeah. Anyway, it was pretty clear that Thorn had been poisoned. And... it all happened so fast. I remember my mother - her name is Astrid - she began interrogating me while Thorn was throwing up. In retrospect, it pretty much looked like I’d tried to kill him.”

Breeze’s eyes widened. “They exiled you?” she guessed. Rowan nodded. Memories flashed in his eyes, ones that Breeze could not see.

Screeches echoed across the clearing, so many that the tom could hardly make out individual voices. His eyes flashed around him as familiar faces, family, turned on him with drawn snarls.

“How dare you!” Someone hissed in his ear. He flinched back as he recognized his childhood friend, his companion. Nothing but bitter hatred sparked in his disapproving gaze.

 “You deliberately tried to kill our leader," a gray she-cat snarled. "There is no excuse. We are family here, blood, and tonight you have broken that bond. Get out of here, or we make you.”

“Fern and Java were kind enough to let me stay at the barn. And I’ve been here ever since,” Rowan finished, wrapping his tail around his paws. Breeze took in a long breath.

“How long ago was that?” she mused.

Rowan glanced up in thought. “Uh… It was in spring… so roughly a year and a half ago.”

Breeze let out a low whistle. “You haven’t wanted to go back to your home?” Rowan’s eyes narrowed.

“You want to?”

She paused in thought. “I don’t know. Not with my stepfather for leader, that’s for sure.”

“What was his name again?”

“Oakthorn. Well, it’s Oakstar, now.”

Rowan let out a puff of air.

“Why?” Breeze asked quickly. “Do you know him?”

Rowan shook his head in exasperation. “Look, kid, I told you before. I’ve heard names. But I don’t know anyone.”

“You’re lying.”

Rowan cursed under his breath. “Jeez, kid, am I that bad of a liar?”

“Stop calling me kid,” Breeze said, taking a long stride closer to him. “Who do you know? Ashpoppy? Runninghare? Lionwhisker? Heatherdawn?”

“Knock it off!” Rowan hissed. “I don’t know anyone.”

“Swiftcloud? Rosegaze?”

Rowan leaned in close to her face. “Quit it.”

“Flashfoot?”

“No.”

“Paleberry.”

“Couldn’t care less.”

“Larchfall? Briartuft?”

Now Rowan’s fangs were bared in anger. “Listen, kid, I said knock it-”

“Sundusk?”

Rowan’s mouth slowly began to close. He turned away from Breeze quickly. She stared at his back in astonishment.

“You know Sundusk?” she breathed. “You… you know my father?”

“Your father? That was his name? Sundusk?” Rowan whispered. “Kid-”

Breeze’s breathing was heavy. “Do you know him? Do you know where he is?”

Rowan glanced over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah, I know Sundusk.”

Breeze’s heart skipped. “Where is he?”

Nothing but pity surged in Rowan’s yellow gaze.

“I think you’ve known right from the beginning, kid.”

Updated Allegiances

WindClan:

Leader: Oakstar: large reddish brown tabby tom with yellow eyes

Deputy: Heatherdawn: solid gray she-cat with blue tints and yellow eyes

Apprentice: Cinderpaw

Medicine cats: Paleberry: cloudy cream she-cat with white feet and blue eyes

Apprentice: Swallowfur

Warriors:

Lionwhisker: golden mackerel tabby tom with a white chest

Stormstripe: gray tabby tom with yellow eyes

Briartuft: dilute calico she-cat with patchy fur

Ashpoppy: blue-gray she-cat with white toes and glassy blue eyes

Larchfall: small, dappled dusky gray tom with forest green eyes

Goosewing: cloudy gray she-cat with brilliant golden eyes and long fur

Apprentice: Rainpaw

Rosegaze: skinny white she-cat with pinkish eyes (albino)

Sandhawk: light ginger tom with darker markings

Icefern: white she-cat with large blue eyes

Nettlestorm: brown tabby tom with long fur and yellow eyes

Buzzardstrike: ragged chocolate tom with yellow eyes

Runninghare: light brown tabby tom with white chest, legs, and belly. Blue eyes.

Redfire: brilliant ginger tom with white face markings and golden eyes

Apprentices:

Swallowfur: cream tabby tom

Rainpaw: silver tabby she-cat with white feet and blue eyes

Cinderpaw: solid gray she-cat

Queens
Flashfoot: Ginger and white she-cat with red feet

(Mother of Lionwhisker’s kits: Goldenkit (pale ginger tabby she-kit), Yellowkit (white she-kit with golden tabby patches), Poppykit (tortoiseshell she-cat), and Emberkit (ginger tabby tom)

Cherrydapple: pretty ginger tabby she-cat (pregnant with Stormstripe’s kits)

Elder:

Quickstorm: very pale gray tom with short legs and blue eyes

The Allegiance:

Leader: Thorn: small golden tabby tom

Astrid: elegant gray she-cat with a graying muzzle. Mate of Thorn.

Jasmine: sleek gray-blue she-cat with almond blue eyes. Eldest heir to Thorn.

Grass: spiky brown tabby tom.

Kestrel: brown and white tom with green eyes

Hawthorn: brown tabby tom with a crooked tail

Jett: small, sleek black she-cat with large ears

Ripple: light gray tom with white facial markings and paws

Winter: fluffy white she-cat with blue eyes

Screech: ragged brown she-cat with yellow eyes and many scars, notably one across her face.

Other Cats:

Java: burly brown tom with yellow eyes who lives on the farm

Fern: soft gray she-cat with green eyes who lives on the farm

Rowan: dark ginger tom with yellow eyes, former Allegiance cat

Breeze: white and gray tabby she-cat with blue eyes, former WindClan cat

Sorrel: small dilute tortoiseshell she-cat with blue eyes, former WindClan cat

Chapter Seven

Once the rain began to lighten, Rowan took Breeze to see Sundusk. Sorrel stayed behind, fast asleep as the moon climbed into the sky.

And Rowan was right. Ashpoppy was right. Breeze was right.

Everyone had been right, and Breeze hated it.

“I can’t believe I kept holding onto this stupid hope that he was going to come back,” she whispered. The light rain misted onto her pelt as she stared at the large silver rock placed neatly over uneven earth. It was a funny feeling, knowing well that Sundusk could not see her so far from the Clans. But she could almost see him, if not for the pounds of dirt that lay over top of him. Breeze swallowed back a lump in her throat.

He’s really dead.

The thing that stung the most was that she had known it the whole time.

“That’s not stupid,” Rowan said. Breeze shrugged.

They sat in silence for a while longer, watching the rain patter onto Sundusk’s grave.

“So how’d you know him?” Breeze asked, not moving her gaze from the ground.

Rowan took in a deep, rattling sigh. “About a year and a season ago,” he began softly, “I was here at the barn with Fern and Java. Sundusk pulled himself in out of nowhere pleading for help. He looked like he’d gotten jumped and beaten pretty badly.”

Breeze’s ears raised. “Did he tell you who attacked him?” she whispered numbly, remembering Ashpoppy’s story vividly. "His own Clanmates?" Rowan nodded.

“It was horrifying, kid. He was listing all these names - that’s how I’ve heard them before - and just talking about how betrayed he was. Fern and I tended to his wounds but he was in so much pain. The whole night he was just… screaming.”

His yellow gaze flickered down to the grave. “He talked about you, kid. He wanted to go back to his molly and his unborn children. But jeez, he could barely move. We let him stay in the barn and hoped that by some miracle, he’d heal.” Rowan looked up quickly. “I found sleep in that night, eventually. When Fern woke me up, he wasn’t screaming anymore. It was a horrible silence. One I wouldn't wish on anyone. We found this nice little hill close to the barn and buried him.”

Breeze felt emotion clog her throat. “That’s why they never found him,” she whispered. “That’s… that’s why he never came back.”

Rowan nodded. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, rising to his paws and padding towards the barn. “I’ll let you have some time.”

Breeze waited a couple heartbeats. Besides the rain, everything had echoed to a deafening silence. She looked up in the sky and found the stars, but she didn’t feel Sundusk watching her.

“Wait,” she croaked aloud. She heard the rustle of leaves as Rowan stopped somewhere behind her. She had almost expected him to be gone by now. “Could you… could you stay out here? For a little bit?”

“Sure, kid.” Rowan turned back towards her, and Breeze exhaled when she felt the thick warm fur brush up against hers.  

“What do you remember about him?” Breeze asked, glancing up at the sky. “Anything?”

“Sure.” Rowan fluffed out his coat and paused in thought. “He had this bright orange fur, like a sunset. And… his eyes were yellowish. He did look kinda like you, kid. You have his long legs and his sleek fur and white markings. He had these really bright, round eyes, and you have those too.”

Breeze closed her eyes to keep in the tears. Cats had always avoided Sundusk’s existence in conversation. When they didn’t, they talked about what a great dad he would have been or his kindness or how he was up in the stars. But no one had ever told her about how she looked like him. Breeze was Sundusk’s daughter, and it was as if WIndClan wanted her to forget that.

I won’t, Sundusk, she promised, looking up at the stars. I won’t forget. You live on in me. I did the thing you couldn’t: I lived.

She closed her eyes and felt the breeze pick up her fur. And I will make that count. I promise.

*

Breeze had crawled back into the barn late and slept curled up next to Sorrel. Rowan had sat by the door until Breeze pretended to be asleep, when he jumped up into the loft and slept there.

Breeze had never slept in before. Clan life was busy and demanding, especially with WindClan’s vast territory in need of patrolling and Oakstar, who was in charge of such things. She awoke to the sunlight that beamed through cracks in the barn roof, and squinted up in confusion as she realized the time of day.

She nearly forgot where she was, but when she heard the gentle snoring of the farm pony and the distant chirping of birds, Breeze exhaled. She quite liked how the sun soaked into her pelt when she slept in, warming her from the leaf-fall chill. Maybe being a rogue isn’t so bad after all.

Rowan peered around the entrance, whiskers twitching in amusement. Bumbling behind him was Sorrel, carrying a rather large sparrow. “It’s about time, kid,” he meowed, eyes grinning. “It’s nearly noon.”

Breeze gaped her jaws in a yawn. “Long day yesterday. Did you catch that yourself?” she asked Sorrel, nodding at the bird. Sorrel placed the sparrow down at her paws, blue eyes large. She shook her head.

“Oh, no. I watched Rowan catch it. He showed me how to, though. And I got to carry it back!”

Breeze purred. “Well, there’s plenty of mice in here if the sparrow isn’t enough.”

Rowan’s ear twitched. “Are you saying my catch won’t suffice?”

Breeze shrugged nonchalantly and wandered towards them with a smug look. “It might.”

Rowan shoved past her playfully.

Just as Breeze was about to give a smart remark, a new cat burst through the entrance, one Breeze had never seen before. This one was a she-cat, but much larger and fluffier than Breeze. She had the brightest white pelt in the forest, and every snowy hair was on end.

“Rowan!” she bellowed, stopping at the entrance. Both Breeze and Rowan froze and slowly turned to face her. “I’ve found you!”

Rowan dipped his head coldly. “So you have. May I interest you in an award?”

The white she-cat raised her chin defiantly. “This is important. I didn’t come here to chat.”

“I don’t care,” Rowan said, turning back away from her. Breeze was surprised at his hostility and curtness, but the look in his eye was familiar.

The white she-cat closed her eyes. “Maybe your story isn't so crazy after all,” she breathed. Rowan stopped dead, and Breeze saw every hair on his pelt rise.

“Too late,” he said simply, not even looking at the she-cat. “A year and a half too late.”

“What’s going on?” Breeze hissed. No one replied.

“Stop being so difficult,” the she-cat growled accusingly, taking a step towards Rowan. The dark tom spun around, eyes wide in anger.

“I’m being difficult?” he shot back. “After what happened, I have every right to be.”

“Look, we were wrong, okay? We were wrong.” The she-cat lashed her tail. “But the thing is, it might happen again. It almost did.”

“Don't care.”

“Rowan, who is this?”

Breeze was ignored again as the white she-cat stomped impatiently.

“Listen to me!” she demanded. “You were used to be accused. Astrid set you up and Jasmine is next.”

At the final name, Rowan’s ears perked. “What?”

The white she-cat purred mockingly. “Now you listen.”

“I didn’t know my sister’s life was in danger,” Rowan hissed, leering in towards her. “What’s going on? What did Astrid do?”

The white she-cat’s gaze darkened. “We all thought you poisoned Thorn but lately Astrid has been acting really weird around Jasmine. Someone attacked Thorn last year when he it was nighttime, and a rumor went around that it was Jasmine, but he shut that down. A few seasons ago, she offered him a cure for his cough but it only made him worse. Thorn said it was an accident after he recovered. We all thought Jasmine was following in your footsteps and trying to kill Thorn.”

Rowan’s pelt prickled. “I didn’t try to in the first place.”

“I’m getting to that. Anyway, then it started to take a turn. Jasmine started getting into similar situations. A few weeks ago she almost slipped down the gorge by the river, and that’s when it started getting suspicious.”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed, but he was listening.

“I started to piece things together,” the white cat rambled on. “At first it made sense that you and Jasmine, sibling heir to Thorn, would kill him for power, right?”

Rowan grunted. She continued.

“But then it weirded me out when Jasmine started nearly dying. Not like Thorn’s failed attempts, like she would be so close to dying but somehow avoid it every time. I starting thinking, who’s next in line for leader after Thorn’s firstborn and lastborn?”

Rowan’s eyes widened. “Astrid?” he whispered. “My... mother?”

The white cat nodded solemnly. “It all makes so much sense. She didn’t want to kill you to become leader - you're her kit - so she framed you and got you exiled. And when Jasmine kept obliviously getting out of it, she decided what was more important to her.”

Rowan was silent for a long moment. "Who else knows?" he asked with a bitter tinge in his voice. "Who else knows it's Astrid?"

"I've come up with this theory alone. If I tell the wrong cat, it could get around to Astrid. I know it's a stretch, but..." The she-cat looked at Rowan seriously. “Rowan, I need your help. Jasmine won’t listen to me unless I can convince her fully, and by then it might be too late. Your sister is in danger.”

Rowan’s shoulders fell and he looked around wildly. “You know I can’t do that,” he whispered. “I’m exiled. I can’t just walk in there and…”

His wild gaze landed on Breeze. She could see an epiphany light up his yellow eyes.

“Kid!” he exclaimed.

“Feels good to be finally introduced,” she muttered drily. She looked at the white cat. “I’m Breeze.”

She nodded. “Winter.”

“Okay okay okay I have an idea,” Rowan said quickly, beginning to pace back and forth quickly. “So if Breeze walks in there with Sorrel and says that Sorrel is my long-lost daughter - and they live there for a little while, get to know everyone - that would give Astrid a distraction for a little while so you can focus on warning Jasmine. Obviously she's gonna freak if there's more heir to Thorn so that gives her time to-”

“Whoa, whoa,” Breeze blurted, stepping between them. “I never agreed to go in as a decoy to your Allegiance.” She raised her brows. “Nor did I agree to pretend to be a mother to your child. Seriously, she doesn’t look like either of us.”

At that, Sorrel’s head raised. Breeze had nearly forgotten about her.

“Genetics, kid,” Rowan said smoothly. “It actually does make sense, I’m red and you’re black dilute, the kit would be tortoiseshell. Sorrel’s a little pale, but it makes sense-”

Winter’s eyes narrowed. “Dude, how much time do you have on your paws?”

“A year and a half.”

Breeze rolled her eyes. “I don’t care about your plan, because it’s not happening. I’m not going to risk my life - much less Sorrel’s! What if your crazy mother targets my not-daughter?”

“Aw, you do care about me,” Sorrel said drily, sitting beside Breeze. Breeze scoffed.

“If I didn’t get forced into a bonding pact with your mother I wouldn’t,” she said stiffly. Sorrel giggled anyway.

Rowan sighed deeply. “Kid, you don’t know how much I need this. My family -”

“Means nothing to you!” Breeze shot back before he could finish. “You said that last night. I'm not just a ball of moss to throw around at your birthplace, and neither is Sorrel. You never wanted to go back. Why is this so different?”

Rowan flung his face close to hers. “Because when I’m living as a rogue with no one to worry about, I don’t care. They’re all traitors in my eyes. But when somebody admits to their mistakes, when somebody tells me that Jasmine and Thorn might die, you think I’m going to turn my nose up to that?”

Breeze shrugged. “If someone were targeting Oakstar I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“Then your family has issues,” Rowan snarled.

“Your mom is going crazy and exiling and killing her children, but whatever,” Breeze replied. Rowan rolled his eyes.

“Look, kid. I got the best of it with the exile. But I can’t live knowing someone’s going to put their paws on my little sister. I’ll… I’ll do anything. A favor, kid! I’ll do you a favor in return.”

Breeze’s heart fluttered. She looked at Sorrel.

“Anything?” she echoed. Rowan nodded urgently.

“Anything.”

Sorrel nodded eagerly as they shared the same thought.

What’s the reason I left WindClan?

-the way Sorrel can go back home?

-the way I can reach my real family again?

-the way I can be happy for the first time?

Breeze raised her chin. “I don’t care how you do it. You can do it yourself, with other cats, whatever.”

Rowan was bobbing his head. “Sure, kid. If you can save the Allegiance, we all owe it to you.” Winter nodded at that. Breeze sucked in a breath.

“I want you to kill Oakstar. Leader of WindClan, and my stepfather. And I want to be there when you do it.”

Chapter Eight

Breeze thought she knew how deals worked: one side of the party proposed something, the other would make a compromise, and all was agreed. But then there was the aspect of actually trying to achieve the deals, which came with… Learning. 

Winter was pacing in front of Breeze and Sorrel. Rowan sat behind her with a look of determination. 

“So if you’re going to live with the Allegiance, you have to know everything about them,” Winter quipped. Her paw slammed onto the dirt floor. “Our prime suspect is Astrid. Sleek, tall gray cat. Very elegant. Looks nothing like Rowan.” 

Rowan’s eyes slitted, and Breeze nodded. 

“She’s the one that set up Rowan and is trying to kill his sister?” She guessed. Winter nodded sharply. 

“Exactly. If anyone refuses to welcome you, it will be her. She’s not exactly outgoing or friendly.”

“Hey.” Rowan’s voice was a warning rumble. Winter rolled her eyes.

“She’s trying to kill your family,” she reminded him. 

“She is my family,” Rowan defended his mother. Winter heaved a sigh. 

“Not after what she’s done. Anyway, the cat we’re trying to save is Jasmine, Rowan’s sister. She’s pretty much the spitting image of Astrid. Personality-wise, too. That’s the reason it’s gonna take to long to convince her: she’s stubborn.”

“Then there’s Thorn, Jasmine and I’s father,” Rowan continued. “Imagine me, but golden, and with really short legs.”

Winter nodded, looking impressed. “Yeah, that about sums it up. He’s pretty laid back, so if he likes you, you stay. Win over his pity. He’s leader, so his word goes.”

“And apparently, Astrid doesn’t like his word all too much,” Rowan butted in. 

“Right. She wants them to grow powerful and known while Thorn wants us to just thrive and live peacefully.” 

Breeze shivered. Astrid sounds like someone I know.

“The thing is, Astrid is very kept to herself about her thoughts,” Winter said, lowering her voice like Astrid could hear them. “She’ll be nice to you once you’re in - once you think you've won her over. Don’t fall for it.”

Breeze nodded importantly. “Anyone else I should know about?”

Winter paused in thought. “Grass and Kestrel are pretty fierce to the Allegiance, so outsiders won’t appease them. You’ll know them pretty much right off the bat. They’re childish about their loyalty, really. Just don’t let them get to you.”

Rowan’s eyes darkened, and Breeze caught it. What’s that about?

“Everyone else is pretty friendly,” Rowan added, draining the hostility from his voice. “The only one who might not welcome you after awhile is Screech.”

Winter looked at Rowan. “Oh, I forgot about her. Screech is the really scarred brown she-cat. We don’t really know anything about her past, but she’s pretty angry and ready to fight everyone all the time.”

Breeze’s pelt prickled. “Is there anyone that won’t hate me?” 

“Uh, they’ll all be pretty tense when you first show up. But when I come in and when you get on their good side, it should be smooth sailing. Especially with Thorn’s granddaughter.”

Breeze glanced at Sorrel.  

Oh, right.

“So why am I telling them that Sorrel is our daughter?” She asked, glancing at Rowan. “Don’t they hate you?”

Rowan and Winter both nodded. “Yes, but the fact that Sorrel is heir to Thorn, even if she isn’t directly a son or daughter, she still holds position over Astrid,” Winter explained. “So that will give Astrid time to plot against Sorrel so I can talk to Jasmine.”

Breeze looked at Rowan. “Your patriarchy is messed up, dude.”

“It’s not a patriarchy,” Rowan said. “It’s like a monarchy, except the mate of the leader has no power unless she gets it herself.”

Breeze held back a smart remark, because it made sense. It was like how Oakstar was leader, but that didn’t give Ashpoppy much of anything except perhaps a little more respect. Ashpoppy could only be leader if she earned it herself. 

Winter nodded. “Astrid was born of the lower class of the Allegiance,” she explained. Breeze narrowed her eyes. 

“There are social classes?” She asked.

“No, I- both of her parents were rogues that terrorized the Allegiance for a long time, I’ve heard,” Rowan said, stepping in front of Winter. “When she became Thorn’s mate, it upped her reputation. She even won a battle for us against the rogue group her parents were a part of while pregnant with Jasmine and me.”

“She’s grown in popularity and respect since then,” Winter went on. “The generation that belittled and scorned her - my parents - are nearly all dead now. So really, she’s nothing less than a leader now. The only thing that’s stopping her is the title itself.”

“...And she can’t get that until all of Thorn’s lineage is gone,” Breeze finished. “Including him?”

“That’s right,” Winter said. Breeze beamed. “With the addition of Sorrel, she’ll probably have her paws full trying to get a way to kill the three of them without getting caught. In the meantime, I’ll work to warn Jasmine and hopefully the rest of the cats.”

Breeze glanced at Sorrel, who was beginning to look uneasy. She didn’t ask for any of this. All she wants to do is go home. “How long will this take?” She asked worriedly. Winter and Rowan exchanged a glance. 

“I have no idea,” Winter confessed. “Jasmine is pretty tough and stubborn so it might take direct proof to convince her.”

Breeze stiffened. “What kind of direct proof?”

Winter shrugged. “An attack. Weird behavior. Anything.”

Breeze sighed long and heavy.

*

The very next morning she had been woken up early, like she was used to, and said goodbye to Rowan and the barn. They sat at the doorway, like they had not too many night ago.

“You’ll see me again,” he promised. “I’ll come and visit the territory at nighttime and we can all meet up to see how we’re doing.”

Breeze eyed him. He was watching Sorrel frolic around Winter nearby, who was giggling and speaking to her as if she was her own kit. 

“You're gonna miss us, aren’t you?” Breeze joked with a twinkle in her eye. Rowan sighed and began to speak but shook his head. 

“Ah, there’s no point in lying to you, kid. You get me every time.” He watched as Winter rolled over in fake defeat. Sorrel sprung on top of her with a triumphant yowl.  

Breeze looked at Rowan and waited for him to finish, but he never did. 

 * 

 Winter led the way to the Allegiance. Breeze was quiet for once as Sorrel trekked beside her, skipping, almost. 

“We’re gonna get to home soon, right?” The kit chirped. Breeze nodded. 

“Yes. But you have to go along with the lie, remember?” Breeze replied solemnly. “You’re the daughter of Rowan.” Breeze snuck a risky glance at Winter, who was further ahead of them, and lowered her voice so the white she-cat couldn't hear. "And I'm your mother."

Sorrel paused in thought. “I wouldn’t really like to be your daughter,” she whispered.

Breeze was unbothered. “Hey, ditto, kid. I’d hate to be your mother.”

Sorrel scrunched up her face and began to speak in her normal voice. “You’re starting to sound like Rowan, kid.”

“Oh, right,” Breeze sighed heavily. “I have to pretend he’s my mate.” She scrunched up her face at the reminder when Winter’s back was to her. 

“He’s my dad now,” Sorrel added. Breeze nodded just as Winter looked over her shoulder. 

“So what’s the story behind her real dad? And you guys, what brings you to the farm?” She asked. It crossed Breeze’s mind briefly that she hadn’t told Winter that she wasn’t related to Sorrel. But then she remembered Rowan’s words from earlier. 

“Um, her actual father was abusive and she needed to escape that,” she recalled, technically telling the truth. Sorrel turned her scarred cheek to Winter instinctively. 

“Is her dad Oak-Star?” Winter asked, reaching her mind for the name.”Is that why you want him dead?” Breeze shook her head, internally laughing at her pronunciation. 

“No. Oakstar is my stepdad, remember? He’s done some horrible things in order to become leader.”

“Leader?” Winter echoed. Her brilliant blue eyes began to narrow. “Is he from another Allegiance?”

“No, he’s-” Breeze clamped her jaws shut and immediately realized her mistake. Winter stopped dead in her path and whirled around, fangs bared. 

“You’re Clan cats!” She exclaimed. Breeze stepped back, unsheathing her claws.

“So?” She stuttered. “We used to be.”

“My ancestors were driven out of the larger forest by your mothers and fathers!” Winter spat. “How do I know you’re not coming to the Allegiance to destroy us and drive us further?”

Breeze processed her words. “Winter,” she said evenly. “I was exiled. I’m working with you so that I can kill the leader of a Clan. I didn’t harm Rowan when he told me he was an Allegiance cat. I didn’t even know you guys existed.”

Winter did not look at her. “There’s a reason for that. I just thought-”

“Rowan tried to save my father. I can’t thank him enough for that,” Breeze whispered. “Now if this is gonna work, you’re going to have to trust Sorrel and I. Can you do that?”

Winter looked at her, finally, for a long time. “You look a little young to be Sorrel’s mother, and at first I doubted that you were,” she revealed. “But now I realize. You’re wise, Breeze. It’ll get you places.”

Breeze was faintly surprised at the comment, too taken aback to reveal that Sorrel wasn’t actually her daughter. 

“We’re here,” Winter said softly. The field surrounding now-gone barn faced an open, dark woods. Unfamiliar scents made Breeze’s pelt prickle with unease and unwelcoming. It was dead silent. Too silent. 

Sorrel trotted ahead, completely contrasting Breeze’s carefulness. 

“Sorrel!” Breeze scolded in a hiss. Sorrel ignored her and jumped for a low branch of a tree. It occurred to Breeze that Sorrel had never been out of camp and subsequently, never seen this many trees. A flurry of leaves rained down onto the tortoiseshell's head. Breeze stayed warily in the tall golden grass, and Winter purred in amusement. “Be careful!”

“Oh, you’re protective now?” Sorrel challenged, wiggling her haunches and leaping in the air. “What if I do this?” She leapt up and hit a branch loudly. “Or this? Or-”

Sorrel had jumped a third time when a flock of birds emerged from the grass and flew up in a commotion. Sorrel shrieked and scrambled back, barely avoiding the talons of the pack of buzzards. Breeze’s ears flattened and she leapt for Sorrel before pulling her away from the frightened gobbles. The shadows of the buzzards dappled her pelt until they flew up and away.

“I MISSED it!” Some cat shrieked.

“I got one!” Another boasted. “So did Ripple!”

Breeze stood warily. In front of her were four cats- a brown tom with the messiest fur she had ever seen, a small black she-cat, a gray tabby tom, and a sleek gray she-cat who almost looked purple. Two buzzards fell dead at Breeze's paws.

“‘Oi!” The brown tom hissed when he saw Breeze get to her paws. “Who goes there? Get out of here, or we make you!"

Breeze stepped back unblinkingly as Winter emerged from the tall grass beside her, glaring at the tom.

“Winter?” He echoed, loosening his tense posture slightly. "We were looking everywhere! Where were you?" 

“Grass.” Her head dipped in greeting, and Breeze recognized the name. How fitting, she thought, looking at his unkempt pelt. He’s one of the really loyal ones, right?

The gray tom looked at Breeze, then Winter. He looked much more laid back, and his blue eyes reminded Breeze of pools of serene water. “Winter? Care to introduce us to your friends?” He asked, waving his tail at breeze and Sorrel. He looked… amused, Breeze realized. 

“These are Breeze and Sorrel,” Winter said, waving her fluffy tail at the two of them respectively. The gray she-cat leaned forward and narrowed her almond eyes. 

“And?” She said scornfully. Winter blinked. 

“And what? I’m bringing them to Thorn, so it’s none of your business, Jasmine.”

Breeze nearly jumped at the name reveal. He looked at Jasmine carefully. She really did look nothing like Rowan, down to her malicious eyes and sleek coat. 

“It’s every bit of my business,” Jasmine growled, large ears beginning to flatten. She looked at Breeze like she was nothing more than a day old mouse. 

“You’re heir, not leader,” Winter corrected coldly. 

“Not yet.”

“Exactly,” Winter purred. 

“Let’s introduce ourselves. It’s only polite,” the gray tom suggested loudly before Jasmine could give a retort. “I’m Ripple of the Allegiance, and this is Grass-” Grass gave a sharp nod, still looking furious, “Jasmine-” Jasmine grumbled something under her breath, “and Jett.” The last cat who had not spoken yet gave Breeze a nod. She was dark as night and small enough to be an apprentice. 

“Howdy,” she greeted, glancing at Sorrel. “Barn cats?”

Breeze shook her head. 

“Rogues,” she corrected. “But we’re hoping to change that soon.”

Winter nodded. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking these two back to camp.”

“And I’m taking these two,” Grass added proudly, swooping down to retrieve the buzzards. He was staring at Breeze to make sure she was watching, but she only turned her back in time to hear him tip over in effort and land on his face. 

*

The Allegiance camp was much what Breeze imagined ThunderClan camp to be like if she ever went there: forested, smelling of mice, and full of cats who went dead silent upon the entry of a WindClan cat. 

Murmurs broke out as Winter padded across the clearing, chin high. Breeze looked at Sorrel in an attempt to keep her head down, and the kit looked terrified. Whispers reached her pelt, gossip and rumors before the cats even knew Breeze’s name. Breeze nearly jumped when she felt a pelt brush up against her, and she released her tension when she recognized the gray tom who had caught the buzzard - Ripple, she recalled. 

“Hey,” he whispered. “Fancy seeing you here.” Breeze forced a quiet mrow of laughter as the patrol stopped in the middle of camp. 

“Thorn!” Winter bellowed when she reached the center. Breeze glanced around her to see which was Thorn, but only hostile glares and ruffled pelts were in view. 

The collective gaze seemed to fall on a large pile of boulders towards the edge of camp, which upon closer inspection was a sort of cave. Then a tom emerged, looking rather wary at all the confusion. But as he walked through the cats, they all fell silent and parted a path for him as he walked towards Winter. Breeze sucked in her breath. This must be Thorn.

Whoever Breeze had imagined leading the Allegiance, this was not it. Thorn sauntered towards them, head low. He had unusually small ears and a thick, fluffy coat of golden brown. He was smaller than Breeze, but his shoulders were broad and muscles rippled under his pelt.

When he reached them he stopped, glaring at them with hauntingly familiar yellow eyes. 

“Who are these two?” he asked. There was only a hint of suspicion about him; mostly it was curiosity. He did seem very laid back, and maybe it was because he had the same gentle face as Rowan, but Breeze trusted him immediately. 

Jasmine shoved past Winter rather roughly. “Winter wants to let some rogues join our Allegiance,” she said obnoxiously. Breeze closed her eyes to keep in her deep sigh StarClan, help me. I’m saving the life of a tattle tail.

Thorn’s yellow gaze flickered to Winter, then Breeze and Sorrel. “Ignore my daughter,” he laughed apologetically. “Princess here needs to loosen up a bit. Anyway, I’d like to hear it from the three of you. Welcome to the Allegaince, by the way.”

Breeze dipped her head. “Thanks.”

“Thorn? Dear? What’s going on?” 

A new cat emerged from Thorn’s den, head high and eyes wide with innocence. Breeze tensed when she saw Jasmine’s navy, almond eyes and sleek long-legged look… On a much older cat. 

Astrid. 

Thorn only glanced over his shoulder quickly to acknowledge her. “Oh. Winter made some friends. Nothing surprising.”

Winter beamed. “Thanks! Anyway, this is Breeze and her daughter Sorrel.”

Breeze’s stomach twisted as she mustered a faint ‘hello’. Thorn looked unmoved, and Astrid slithered up beside him with her eyes narrowed. Winter took in a deep breath before continuing. “This might be a lot to take in, but Sorrel is the kit of Breeze and Rowan, your son. They would like to follow in the footsteps of him and join the Allegiance.”

Meows broke out, but Breeze wasn’t sure if they were from outrage or eagerness. 

Astrid’s ears leaned forward. “Blasphemy!” She snarled. The other cats began to quiet down in respect as the leader’s mate spoke. “Even if she was telling the truth, who are we to trust Rowan and his kin, after he tried to kill Thorn? Thorn! What do you think of this madness?”

Thorn was staring at Sorrel with wide eyes. Sorrel made her eyes go huge and she batted her blue eyes a couple times. The Allegiance went silent to hear his answer. 

Thorn only blinked. 

“I love her.”

“What!’ Astrid exploded, before calming herself quickly. “Thorn, this is the kit of the cat who tried to murder you. Why are we so quick to trust them?”

Thorn looked at her with a smile. “Astrid, dearest, I’ve thought about our son’s exile a lot. And perhaps consider that we were in the wrong? I’m sure he wouldn’t forgive us now, but…” His gaze fell to Sorrel. "Maybe someone will." Breeze exhaled quickly. He really thinks she’s his heir. Astrid’s eyes widened. 

“Thorn, you must be mistaken,” she hissed, leaning in close to one of his small, round ears. “Rowan tried to kill you. He didn’t even have the guts to show his face with his mate and kit.”

“Speaking of, where is he now?” Thorn asked, ears pricked. Breeze shook her head, desperately groping for an answer. Get his sympathy, idiot!

“He’s living and thriving far away. He’s ashamed for what he was accused. All he asks is that we are safe here, with his family.”

Thorn looked at her with pity. “Oh, my dear…” His large head began to slowly shake. “Who am I to turn down my own kin? My heir?” At that word, Breeze looked hard at Astrid. But nothing about her posture revealed that she was angry about that. “I can’t… I’ve already let Rowan down once. I can't do that again. Plus, we have no nursing queens or kits.”

“But you have us,” Breeze added hopefully. “And we will not let you down. In Rowan’s name.”

Thorn liked that answer. 

Chapter Nine

“So our main priority is making sure my heir here knows what she’s going to be doing one day,” Thorn said, weaving through the suspicious crowd with Breeze and Sorrel following. Thorn’s familiar yellow eyes glowed with pride. “Being leader is a lot of work.”

“Rowan told me a lot about the Allegiance and I’ve passed some of it onto Sorrel,” she explained, not really wanting to hear the whole system of the Allegiance again. Thorn nodded, looking pleased.

“Well, I suppose we can get onto lessons later. In the meantime, why not enjoy some of this meal Jasmine’s hunt seems to have gathered? You must be starving.” He stopped in front of the hunt, who was leaned over the buzzards hungrily.

Thorn waved his tail expectantly at them. “Feed the newcomers, won’t you? It’s no welcome if we let them starve.”

Jasmine and Grass both looked up with equally solid glares, and Breeze stepped back.

“I can catch something myself, Thorn,” she stammered. Thorn shook his huge head.

“Nonsense!” He bellowed. “Jazz, treat these two to your hunt. Sorrel is your kin, after all.”

Jasmine shifted her gaze to Sorrel and heaved a large sigh before scooting over. Breeze muttered a quick thanks before shuffling in beside Ripple.

Breeze bowed her head to take a bite of the buzzard. Beside her, Ripple sat up, tail curled around his paws.

“Screech and I will take you two around the territory after meal,” he reported. Then he dipped his head, blue eyes shimmering. “That is, if you’re up to it.”

Breeze nodded, more focused on the big bird in front of her. I’ve never had buzzard before… and it looks disgusting. Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, Breeze bent down and swiftly took a bite. She nearly gagged, but held it in and forced herself to swallow.

Ripple purred in amusement, and even Jasmine forced a wry grin.

“Not your type of prey, huh?” Jett asked, cleaning the pad of a tiny front paw. “What are you used to, field mice? Voles? Water voles? Rabbit? Pheasant? Sparrow? Fish? You don’t like fish, do you?” Her face scrunched up, and Breeze shook her head.

“Rabbit is good,” she commented. Jett nodded her approval, and Ripple nudged her.

“Ignore her. All she thinks of is food,” he said teasingly. Jett scoffed.

Breeze jerked her head up from the smell of the nasty bird. “Whatever,” she muttered, swinging her head around to look for the abandoned tortoiseshell beside her. “Where’s Sorrel?”

“Right here!"

Breeze turned her head to see a tortoiseshell blur race up to her. Sorrel had definitely gotten more outgoing in the two minutes they’d even there, and now she was abandoning a little topaz butterfly that she had apparently been chasing. Winter was at her tail. The fluffy white she-cat was smiling broadly.

“Your daughter is such a sweetheart,” she gushed, padding up to Breeze. The white and silver tabby forced a chuckle.

“Come on, Sorrel,” she meowed. “We’re going to see the territory." The little she-cat jumped on her paws excitedly.

Ripple shook his head and grinned. “Right,” he replied. “We’re done eating?” Then he lifted his head. “Screech!” he called. “Leaving!”

Almost as soon as he spoke, a brown she-cat appeared beside him. Her sapphire eyes met Breeze’s for a heartbeat, and the rogue froze. There was a large, ugly, pale pink scar across Screech’s face, trailing from her ear, over her nose, and curling around to the bottom of her jaw.

“What?” She rumbled. Her voice was gruff, like she didn’t speak all that much. She leaned in towards Breeze in a challenge. “Something on my face?”

“Oh,” Breeze mumbled, flushing when she realized Screech had seen her staring. “No. Sorry.”

Sorrel stomped up to Screech, noticing how uncomfortable Breeze looked, and stared at the brown she-cat evenly.

“She’s staring at your face,” Sorrel said blatantly. Screech whipped around to face her, yellow eyes livid.

“Don't think about it too much. I have a scar, too!” Sorrel added. Unfazed, she trotted up to Screech and turned her scarred cheek to her. Breeze closed her eyes and shuddered. I almost forgot Sandhawk abused her. “My ear’s got a little knick too.”

Screech raised an eyebrow. Then her icy glare met Breeze’s. “Why is a kit injured like this?” she spat, unsheathing her claws. Breeze opened her mouth to defend herself, but Sorrel interrupted.

“Sandhawk gave me them,” she whispered, flattening her ears and staring at the ground. Screech looked to Breeze, who cleared her throat.

“We were traveling with a tom,” she explained quietly, flushing at her lie. “I thought he’d be a good replacement for Rowan, to be her father, but…” she trailed off emotionally, staring at her paws and hoping Screech didn’t notice her fib. The brown she-cat only narrowed her eyes.

Ripple, who had stayed quiet the conversation, softened.

“I didn’t know you and Rowan weren’t together,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry to hear about this Sand-tom.”

Breeze nodded sharply and refused to meet his caring gaze. “Anywho, we were going to tour...?”

“Follow me,” Screech nodded, hostility still rigid in her posture. The brown she-cat got to her paws and made her way over to the exit, a bracken thicket. Ripple and Screech easily ducked down and slid through. Sorrel exchanged a glance with Breeze. Breeze didn’t blame her. WindClan cats are used to open spaces. But she only pushed through the exit without a second glance at the kit.

The thorns caught on her fur immediately. Breeze hissed to herself. The space was uncomfortably tight, and she was glad when she saw the light that meant she had reached the end.

Ripple was holding back a laugh when she collapsed in the clearing, and Breeze struggled not to snap at him. She assumed she looked funny- fur sticking up the wrong way, twigs poking out from her pelt.

Once Sorrel made her way out, looking uneasy yet fine, Screech cleared her throat. “Outside of camp, we have pretty open space,” she announced, waving her tail and padding away from the barrier of camp. She nodded towards a scent-path that led into a darker part of the forest surrounding them. “Down that way is the training clearing. We take the cats there sometimes to sharpen skills."

“Is there a teaching system here?” Breeze asked politely. Screech gave her a sidelong glare.

“In a way,” she replied simply. “Once a kitten has reached five months, we all work together to train them. They become full members once we feel they have learned everything. Of course, Sorrel is an exception. She'll probably be trained by Thorn himself.” So they do have an apprentice type thing organized, Breeze mentally noted. She merely nodded, and Ripple turned left and led on.

The trees grew scarcer as the trekked deeper into the territory. The four cats circled back to where Breeze and Sorrel had met the patrol, where golden grasslands swayed in the breeze. In the near distance, they emptied out into a green terrain that Breeze recognized as the moors of WindClan. If she squinted enough, she could see some dots in the distance. Perhaps it was Ashpoppy and Runninghare hunting. Her mother always excelled at hunting in pairs.

Breeze shook her head. No. I’m not associated with them right now.

“We don’t worry about our borders too much,” Screech explained, breaking her thoughts. Breeze padded forward with her head down, avoiding the sharp yellow glare. “Nobody bothers us. We have our fighting skills to pride for that.” Her head raised triumphantly into the open sunlight, and Breeze could see the snaking scar on display. “Do you fight, Breeze? At all?”

Breeze stopped walking and raised her head in defense.

“Of course I fight,” she meowed firmly. “Does it look like I-”

Then, without warning, Screech whirled around and leapt at Breeze. Breeze toppled backwards, away from the other cats, with a grunt and landed on her back. Sorrel gasped and Ripple leapt for them, but that was all Breeze could register before a large brown paw came down at her face.  

Breeze gasped as a stinging pain throbbed across her cheek. She shoved her back legs under Screech’s belly, but the large she-cat didn’t budge. Screech’s yellow eyes narrowed and she raised a paw. Breeze flinched and raised her paws in front of her face, expecting Screech to slam into her skull. But the blow never came.

Instead, Screech drew her scarred face close to Breeze’s, so close the rogue could feel the she-cat’s hot breath on her neck. “I don’t know what you’re doing here,” Screech whispered, out of the others’ earshots, “but if you wish to cause harm to this Allegiance -” Screech risked a look over her broad shoulders, where Ripple was running towards them.

“Screech!” the gray tom hollered. “Get off of her!”

Breeze brought a paw up to feel the blood that was dribbling down her cheek. She stared at Screech, dumbfounded. “Why would I - what makes you think I’m going to harm the Allegiance?” she rasped. Screech growled just as Ripple and Sorrel reached them.

“Breeze,” Ripple gasped. “Are you alright?”

Breeze didn’t answer as Screech stepped off of her, glowering.

“You fight okay,” the brown she-cat sniffed, now that the others could hear. Breeze shakily got to her paws, mind whirring. What was that?

Sorrel padded up to Breeze. Instead of looking worried for her, she smirked.

“Look, we match now,” she said, flashing her scabbed cheek to Breeze. Breeze grumbled and moved on, pawing at her bloodied cheek every once in awhile.

“After this, we just about circle back,” Ripple explained, kinking his tail over his back all while shooting glares at Screech. “Do you have any que-”

Before he could finish, Screech gave a snarl for silence. Ripple stepped back and narrowed his eyes.

“Shut,” Screech snapped. She leaned forward, ears pricked.

Ripple sighed dramatically. “Screech, if we could go one second without you on edge-”

Then Screech cut him off again, and leapt into the tall grass. She disappeared fully before an echoing snarl could be heard. Sorrel stepped back, whiskers twitching in mild surprise. The brown she-cat’s head emerged over a small, pale ginger shape, claws unsheathed and at the throat of her enemy. Breeze couldn’t see from where she was standing, but heard pleas from the attacked cat.

“Oh, no,” Ripple whispered. Breeze saw his claws unsheathe. “Get on edge, both of you. We have an intruder.”

Breeze and Sorrel exchanged a glance before simultaneously bristling. Breeze was secretly excited. We’re like real Allegiance cats!

“Why are you in The Allegiance’s territory?” Screech spat, leaning in towards the other cat’s face. The tom shrunk back.

“I’m sorry!” he wailed. “I didn’t know!”

Breeze’s ears pricked. She knew that voice- and it brought back vivid memories. But she froze in place as Screech rolled the tom towards them. Ripple bared his fangs, and his malicious nature spooked Breeze.

The ginger tom slowly rose to his paws once Screech stepped back to allow him space. He coughed violently before glancing up at Breeze. Amber eyes met blue, and Breeze stiffened.

“Explain yourself,” Screech said sharply, jarring his thoughts. “Or get out.” The tom turned to her with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry for intruding,” he stammered. His gaze landed on Breeze. “My name is Swallowfur, and I seem to have found a friend.”

Breeze was thankful he hadn’t used her Clan name, but her gut twisted in horrible realization as Screech and Ripple both turned to her for explanation.

Breeze’s chin raised as she stared at Swallowpaw - Swallowfur - evenly. “I’m not your friend,” she snarled, “and I never was. Leave the territory, now.”

Swallowfur didn’t seem to hear her. “What are you doing here?” he echoed, glancing at the other cats

“Better question,” Screech broke in, “what are you doing here?” Swallowfur dipped his head.

Breeze shoved past Screech, wincing as the brown she-cat turned her sharp gaze on her. “May I speak with this intruder?” she growled. “I can make him leave and never return. We just need closure.”

“Absolutely not,” Screech snapped.

“Absolutely,” Ripple said at the exact same time.

Breeze figured Ripple overruled and leaned down at Sorrel.

“Stay with them,” she commanded. Sorrel looked crestfallen.

“But I want to see Swallowpaw!” she protested.

“No,” Breeze said firmly .”That’s not even his name anymore. Just go along with it.”

Sorrel glared at her but said nothing as Breeze pulled Swallowfur into the tall, golden grass. The closed her eyes and embraced his WindClan scent, one she missed. When they were far enough back, she opened her eyes firmly.

“Why are you here?” she demanded in a low voice, swinging her head around. “You can’t barge into the territory like that and drop your name. They’re going to know I’m a Clan cat.”

“Who are they?” Swallowfur whispered, leaning towards her and twitching his whiskers.

Breeze shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. You need to leave, Swallowfur. Now.”

“I told the Clan I was going on a solo mission to find an herb,” he meowed, ignoring her. “I was trying to find you, and Sorrelkit.”

Breeze narrowed her eyes and felt ice clutch her heart. “Why?” she spat. “I was exiled for murder. Whether it was my fault or not, I’m gone. Sorrel came with me on Icerfern's accord.”

“I was outside of camp when it happened,” Swallowfur insisted, shrinking back. “I’m so, so sorry Breezefeather-”

“Breeze,” The white and silver she-cat interrupted.

“Breeze,” Swallowfur corrected himself, “and I think-”

“I think you should leave.” Breeze was surprised at the hostility in her voice. She stepped back from him numbly. “I don’t know why you came for me, but I am no longer welcome in that Clan of cowards. I’ve been exiled for a crime I didn’t commit, and you obviously know it too. I don’t want to get exiled from the Allegiance, too, because your stupid self had to trespass.”

Swallowfur softened. “If these cats make you happy,” he whispered to Breeze, “Then stay. I… want you to be happy.”

Breeze nodded sharply, just once. Swallowfur returned it. Then he turned towards home, streaking across the meadow.

Breeze stared after him for a long moment before she turned around and emerged back into the view of the others.

“Who was that?” Ripple meowed as soon as Breeze was in sight. She shrugged.

“An old friend I met journeying,” she replied simply. “He doesn’t mean anything. My life is here.”

Screech grunted without another word, and turned towards her home.

And now, it’s my home, Breeze thought proudly. Regardless of what Screech thinks.

She did not turn back once to see if Swallowfur was gone. 

Chapter Ten

By the time night had fallen, Breeze was exhausted- the Allegiance had taught her basic methods of forest-hunting, and simple battles moves. It was all new to her, almost as if she was learning ThunderClan or ShadowClan tactics.  

Sorrel was tired from the events that followed, but she stayed an eager ball of energy. Breeze was grateful. The apprentice had been taken away for part of the day to learn under Thorn’s wing, much to Jasmine’s jealousy. Sorrel seemed to enjoy it, though it was as if she had already forgotten about WindClan.

The sun had set and the Allegiance had gone to bed in nests of moss and leaves. Breeze didn’t hate it- she was surprised at the comfort- but it didn’t feel right.

And I wonder if any of it ever will.

Breeze shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She would fit in… one day. Today just wasn’t that day, she reassured herself. She lifted her chin. One day, I’ll get to go home.

Breeze arched her back and shook out her coat. Beside her, Ripple was snoring lightly and beside him, Jasmine’s flanks were rising and falling rhythmically. Breeze gave the smoky gray she-cat a scornful glare before padding out, as nimbly as she could, of the bramble den. When she got to the exit, Winter and Sorrel were already there, waiting for her to come out as well.

I wonder how far Winter got with Jasmine today, Breeze wondered, glancing at the bracken den one more time. I didn’t see them much, but Jasmine seems pretty mad about Sorrel possibly taking her place...

The worst thing about the shelter of the trees was the lack of sight. Breeze was stumbling over every root, every fallen branch, until she reached the open meadow. Then she let out a long, steady breath and took in the field’s gentle aroma. Although leaf-bare was well on its way, Breeze didn’t mind.

Suddenly there was a ripple in the golden grass, and Rowan trotted out, head low.

“Hey, guys,” he greeted in a whisper. He nodded at Breeze. “Kid.”

Breeze rolled her eyes. “I’m really starting to think you’re doing that to annoy me.”

Rowan grinned. “Whatever you say. How’d it go today, you guys? Obviously you got in.”

Sorrel beamed. “I got to work with Thorn the whole day,” she boasted. Rowan looked surprised.

“They really bought it?” he said. Breeze shrugged, and Screech’s words flashed in her mind.

“Most of them did,” she replied. “Thorn really likes Sorrel. He misses you, Rowan.”

Rowan’s eyes darkened. “Yeah, I’m sure he does,” he muttered. He looked at Winter, who remained silent. “Winter? How’s it going with talking to Jasmine?”

Winter sighed and shook her head. “I tried talking with her today, but she’s pretty mad about Thorn’s attention being on Sorrel. Every time I tried bringing Astrid up it got thrown out. She doesn’t like me much in the first place.”

Breeze looked at Winter. “Are you sure it’s Astrid?” she said doubtfully. “I mean, she wasn’t exactly outgoing today, but she didn’t seem suspicious or anything. I hardly noticed her.”

Winter shook her head. “See, that’s exactly where the issue is-”

“What if this takes too long?” Breeze went on, rising to her paws and pacing nervously.

“Kid,” Rowan warned. Breeze shushed him.

“Like, Worst case scenario, you’re right and Astrid kills Jasmine and Thorn and Sorrel because you didn’t warn the princess in time,” she went on. Winter’s blue eyes narrowed.

“That’s what we’re trying to stop,” she recited.

“Kid,” Rowan said again.

“Would you- best case scenario, your theory is wrong and I live here forever and Sorrel becomes the freaking leader,” Breeze huffed, lashing her tail and sitting abruptly. “And then this will all be for nothing, because Oakstar is still ruling WindClan!”

“Kid!” Rowan snapped. Breeze stopped dead when she was the lividity in his yellow eyes. He jerked his head, once, and Breeze followed his stare. “We got company.”

Breeze’s icy gaze flashed to the bushes, where a ginger tom was staring at the group, open-mouthed. Breeze and Winter simultaneously unsheathed their claws.

Swallowfur grinned sheepishly.

“Hey, Breeze,” he whispered. Breeze leapt to her paws, tail fluffing out.

“You should have left!” she hissed. Much to her embarrassment, her voice broke from all her chatting during the day. Swallowfur stared at the ground, blinking.

“I know,” he replied softly. “But I missed you. I don’t want you gone forever.”

Breze stared at him. Rowan cleared his throat.

“Kid?” he muttered. “An introduction wouldn’t hurt.”

Breeze heaved a sigh. “Whatever. Guys, this is Swallowfur. Swallowfur, this is Rowan, Winter, and you know Sorrel.”

Winter and Rowan grumbled a hello, but Sorrel broke away from the group to run up and press against the medicine cat, purring loudly.

“I miss WindClan!” she exclaimed, only to be shushed by the other three cats. Sorrel turned around, nose scrunched. “I’m sorry. I really want to go back. No offense.”

Rowan nodded. “None taken.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice. “It must be hard, being leader all day.”

Sorrel looked unaffected. “You would know.”

“Tss,” Breeze said, as Rowan looked quite offended.

Swallowfur shuffled his paws awkwardly. Breeze shifted her gaze to him.

“So why did you come back?” she asked, uncharacteristically soft. Swallowfur looked up at her, blinking his large amber eyes.

“I want to say that I came here as part of my duty to respect the truth as a medicine cat,” he said. “But it’s really lonely without you. Like, the whole atmosphere is darker.”

“Oh no, I made WindClan lonely,” Breeze replied drily. Then her voice sharpened. “WindClan made me a rogue. Which is worse?”

Swallowfur paused.

“I miss you.”

“Shut up.”

Swallowfur blinked. “I think they’re starting to realize that exiling you was a mistake,” he said.

Breeze turned away from him. “The last time that happened, my dad was already dead,” she whispered. “And they never even apologized.”

“So what do you want?” Swallowfur demanded, stepping towards her. “Huh? Do you want an apology? To be invited back?”

Breeze looked at Rowan, who flicked an ear.

“I wanna kill Oakstar,” she rasped. “And I might as well take down every other cat who wronged me along with him.”

Swallowfur stared at her flatly. “So… all of WindClan.”

Breeze shook her head. “No, you know who. Oakstar. Larchfall. Buzzardstrike, for StarClan’s sake.”

“Sandhawk!” Sorrel added. Breeze nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, Sandhawk!” She trailed off as she looked at Swallowfur. “I don’t expect you to help me, or even keep this secret,” she said in a low voice. “And if you don’t, I respect that. But if you chose to go, you better run, Swallowfur, run all the way back to WindClan and never look back. Because I’m not going to tolerate someone else turning on me.” She unsheathed her claws suddenly, and Swallowfur jumped back.

Breeze purred. “We got it? Good.”

She turned back towards the Allegiance cats. Winter was clapping a front paw on the ground together and Rowan nodded his approval.

“Good monologue,” Winter praised.

“Solid ten,” Rowan added. “Very angsty.”

Breeze couldn’t help a laugh. “Okay, okay. Here’s the deal, Swallowfur.”

And so Breeze explained everything, from the moment of her exile to that very night. She couldn’t stay mad at Swallowfur for long. He was an old friend, and she missed him, too. Regardless of what came out of her mouth.

“So what else can we do to further convince Jasmine?” Rowan said firmly as the group huddled into a tighter circle. The moon was climbing higher in the sky, and Breeze’s eyelids tugged with sleep. Winter looked at him.

“She’s not listening to me,” she repeated crossly. “Maybe we should have Rowan himself talk to her.”

Breeze shook her head. “She’s Jasmine. She’s not gonna trust the word of an exiled cat.”

Rowan looked offended. “How well do you know my sister, exactly?”

Breeze shrugged. “Just from what I gathered-”

“Should we maybe all confront her?” Sorrel suggested, flicking her tail. “So she knows how many cats are in on this?”

Winter’s head raised. “We could try.”

“For the time being, we’ll see what Astrid tries to pull. We give her a moon, and if she does nothing, then we confront Jasmine,” Breeze said firmly. To her surprise, the other cats nodded.

“That sounds pretty good, kid,” Rowan praised, and Breeze found herself beaming at his words. She forced a scowl. I’m not seeking Rowan’s approval. What am I, an apprentice? “We meet this time tomorrow.”

“Well, I’m off to WindClan,” Swallowfur said, flicking Breeze’s nose with his tail as the cats all began to leave. “Paleberry’s been going nuts ever since you left.”

Breeze’s whiskers twitched in surprise. “She still won’t talk to you?”

Swallowfur shrugged and his eyes widened. “Not at all,” he said. “When Oakstar got his lives I could see her arguing with some StarClan cats, but I couldn't hear them clearly. I think she’s pretty upset with someone about the exile. I don’t know if she’s mad at you or Finchstar or Oakstar, but she won’t tell me.”

“She’s getting old,” Breeze commented awkwardly.

“Not old enough to have her eyes roll around and gather dust in her pelt,” Swallowfur argued. “I swear, she’s going crazy.”

Breeze laughed. Swallowfur turned to leave, and she felt a tugging in her heart.

“I’m off,” he said, kinking his tail over his back. “WindClan will worry and it’s a long walk home.”

“Wait.” Breeze leaned forward, and the word escaped her mouth before she could process it. Swallowfur turned towards her expectantly, and Breeze’s mouth dried. “Stay.”

Swallowfur looked at the grass around them. “Here?” he whispered. Breeze nodded.

“I don’t want to go back in the forest,” she protested. “I’m… I’m a WindClan cat.”

Swallowfur purred as he curled up, nesting in the grass. “You’re gonna have to make up your mind about what you are one day,” he slurred, closing his eyes and daintily covering his nose with his tail. Breeze laid beside him and rested her head on his flank.

“I don’t want to,” she whispered honestly. She liked having Swallowfur's warmth on her scabbing cheek, facing the stars. Sundusk wasn’t there. And that’s why she didn’t care. Swallowfur was her friend, not her mate. Even if he was, she wasn’t breaking any code. The stars couldn’t see them this far away. Sundusk couldn't see them.

“You don’t have to make up your mind,” Swallowfur murmured, nearly asleep. He gaped his jaws in a tremendous yawn. “You don’t have to choose… right now…”

Breeze was asleep before she could reply.

Chapter Eleven

(gore warning: blood/violence)

WindClan POV

It was raining, and Heatherdawn didn’t like it much at all.

The gray she-cat slunk out of the sparse branches she was using for shelter and twitched her whiskers when she noticed the majority of WindClan was gathered in the center of camp, conversing. She weaved towards them with narrowed eyes. They looked on edge, ready to lash out at anyone.

“Oof!” Heatherdawn sprang aside as she hit a much larger cat. She recognized Paleberry as the medicine cat whipped around, eyes wide. Heatherdawn dipped her head. “My apologizes.”

Paleberry only stared at her, and Heatherdawn blinked slowly to avoid making a face. Even through the rain, she could smell Paleberry’s reek. The she-cat looked like she hadn’t cleaned herself in ages.

“Paleberry?” Heatherdawn said politely, noticing that she and the medicine cat were still staring at each other fiercely. “Is something bothering you?”

Paleberry coughed. “We need her back,” she rasped. Heatherdawn took a bewildered step back.

“Who?” she asked, forcing her fur flat.

“We need her!” Paleberry bellowed. “I was a fool, and we’re too late. Heatherdawn, we’re too late.”

“You mustn't give up hope,” Heatherdawn said, trying to conceal her confusion. “There’s still time to work out whatever’s going on.” She cast a glance at the bickering cats in worry. “What… is going on?”

Paleberry shook her large head and ambled away. Heatherdawn muttered to herself before approaching the large group.

“We need to find him!” Goosewing demanded from somewhere in the middle.

“What if he’s been killed?” Briartuft wailed.

“Everyone, calm down!” Heatherdawn grunted. “Now, will someone tell me what’s going on?”

The protests quieted to bothered murmurs. Heatherdawn hid her beam. She liked the authority of being the new deputy.

“Swallowfur is missing,” Nettlestorm explained, stepping towards her. He swung his head around to see if he was getting the story right. “We haven’t seen him since last sunrise.”

Heatherdawn glanced up at the sky uncertainly. Rain was pouring down, and the sun would surely rise soon.

“Wasn’t he on a solo mission?” the deputy recalled. “To find a rare herb outside the territory?”

“He said he’d be back before sunhigh!” Briartuft insisted. She was pacing back and forth with her thick fur drenched and green eyes mad. “It’s been a full day!”

“I think something suspicious is going on,” Stormstripe declared, pulling Cherrydapple towards him. “What herb does he need? No one here is sick.”

Lionwhisker shook his head. “Paleberry is going crazy,” he commented, lowing his voice and averting his glowing yellow glare to the medicine den.

Heatherdawn dipped her head. “With Oakstar’s permission, I can take a patrol to find him,” she volunteered.

Buzzardstrike’s eyes narrowed. “Where is Oakstar in all this?” he sniffed.

As if signal, Runninghare and Larchfall parted, revealing the broad figure of the reddish brown leader. Oakstar sauntered towards Briartuft with narrowed yellow eyes.

“What’s going on?” he rumbled. Heatherdawn explained the situation, and Oakstar looked deep in thought.

“Perhaps he was sheltering from the rain somewhere?” Rosegaze suggested. Oakstar shook his large head.

“No. It started raining only hours ago,” he said. “Heatherdawn and I will lead a patrol to track him down. We can’t risk another medicine cat.”

Heatherdawn’s chest puffed out as he mirrored her idea.

“Another one?” Icefern asked with narrowed eyes. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“Paleberry isn’t well, and hasn’t been,” Oakstar confessed. “I fear for her sanity with Swallowfur gone. Heatherdawn, who should we bring?”

Heatherdawn’s blood went cold as she was put on the spot. She froze up and looked at her Clanmates. Uh… the best trackers that are not grieving family members to Swallowfur…

“Icefern,” she said, picking out the white she-cat. “Stormstripe. Ashpoppy. And Oakstar and myself,” she concluded, standing up straighter. Oakstar nodded his approval.

“Great,” he said. “If your name was listed, come with us. We’ll bring Swallowfur back as soon as possible.”

Briartuft looked unconvinced, but she said nothing as the patrol began to assemble.

“He said he was going out towards the barn, this way,” Icefern said, pointing her white tail ahead. Heatherdawn nodded in gratitude.

“Thanks,” she told the former queen. Icefern only padded ahead. Heatherdawn felt a spark of sympathy for her. The same day Breezefeather had been exiled, her kit, Sorrelkit, had gone missing. Icefern had wailed something about her sneaking out and being taken by a fox or a hawk in the open fields. Heatherdawn pitied her losing her only kit. She was still grieving, three days later.

Heatherdawn was walking in silence when she felt another cat run up to pad alongside her. She turned with surprise as she recognized Ashpoppy, trotting briskly in the lightened rain.

“Hello,” she greeted with a dip of her head. Ashpoppy returned it quickly. Her blue gaze rose up and stared at Oakstar, who took the lead, for just a moment.

“Heatherdawn, we used to be close friends,” Ashpoppy murmured, gaze not leaving her mate. Heatherdawn nodded, recalling her moments as the older apprentice. She had once been close friends with Ashpoppy and Sundusk. They’d drawn apart after Sundusk’s exile, if not a little before then.

“Of course. Why are you bringing that up now?” Heatherdawn asked, opening her mouth slightly to see if she could catch Swallowfur’s scent. Ashpoppy blinked.

“Because I know you’ll be honest with me.” Something about her words sent a chill down the deputy’s spine. She paused, letting Stormstripe and Icefern pass her and her old friend. Ashpoppy cleared her throat. “What do you think of Oakstar? As a leader?”

Heatherdawn flicked an ear. As deputy, she technically couldn’t bad-mouth him - especially not to his mate. Her gaze flickered to the large tom. Sure, he was pretty rough and upped border patrols, but he wasn’t a bad leader. WindClan was doing well. “He’s alright,” she said quite honestly.

Ashpoppy sighed deeply. “He did the same thing to Breezefeather that Finchstar did to Sundusk,” she rasped. “Prejudice exile.” Heatherdawn really looked at her, and she saw the pain in her clear blue eyes.

“What’s your point?” Heatherdawn said, beginning to walk further onward. Ashpoppy followed, still flanking her.

“Exiling my family was a mistake, both times,” she explained, voice trembling. “Finchstar and Oakstar, they’re both biased.”

“Cats learn from their mistakes,” Heatherdawn said uneasily, not sure what her old friend was getting at. Ashpoppy stopped dead, and it took Heatherdawn a heartbeat to realize she had slipped from her side view. She turned to see Ashpoppy glaring at her.

“Finchstar didn’t,” she snarled. “And I’m afraid Oakstar is the same way.”

Heatherdawn’s eyebrows raised. “You afraid he’s gonna exile you?”

Ashpoppy took in a trembling breath. “I’m afraid I’m going to lose everyone else,” she admitted bleakly. “I know Oakstar will do that, Heatherdawn. This Clan blindly follows their leader. They killed my mate. Your… your best friend.”

Heatherdawn softened at the reminder of her times as Heatherpaw, running through the open moor with Sunpaw and Ashpaw giggling at her side. And then she remembered truly thinking her friend, her best friend, had turned on Finchstar and murdered his daughter in cold blood. She could picture the ginger fur under her paws, and the crimson that stained them after.

She remembered Sundusk’s eyes, and how he looked when he saw her above him. And she remembered the blood trail, and never seeing him again.

She remembered how betrayed, betrayed, betrayed his eyes were when she saw them last.

“I saw you,” Ashpoppy said stiffly. Her lip curled. “I saw you in the crowd. You’re a coward, Heatherdawn. How dare you turn on your friend just because everyone else did. He was going to be a father. You killed him.”

“Ash, I’m sorry,” Heatherdawn whispered, taking a step backwards. She was vaguely aware that she was now left completely alone with Ashpoppy, in the dark open moor. “I really thought-”

“Don’t use that nickname now,” Ashpoppy snarled. “Not after what you did. How could you do that? How do you live with yourself?”

Heatherdawn didn’t speak. Ashpoppy wasn’t done.

“You are a coward,” she repeated. “Just like everyone else who followed Finchstar’s order. I don’t know why you’re the deputy. Deputies are supposed to be noble.”

With that, Ashpoppy stalked past her, brushing her wet fur as he disappeared. Heatherdawn was trembling, and she closed her eyes. The visions of Sundusk didn’t go away. Ashpoppy’s words began to settle.

“What are you doing on Allegiance territory?”

Heatherdawn’s eyes shot open at the distant accusation. She whirled around and looked down the hill she stood upon to see her patrol, bristling as they face a group of unfamiliar cats. She scrambled downhill and flanked Oakstar, who was nose to nose with a large brown she-cat that looked almost his size. Heatherawn blinked in shock at the long scar that snaked across her face.

“We don’t mean to trespass,” Oakstar said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “We’re looking for a Clanmate.”

The brown she-cat jerked her head to signal the rest of her patrol. Heatherdawn shrunk back. They had the same number of cats, but these cats were huge, much bigger than ThunderClan or RiverClan cats. “So you’re Clan cats,” the brown cat said drily. Oakstar stiffened.

“What are you?” he sneered. The brown cat smirked.

“Oh, Princess,” she cooed. Heatherdawn saw her claws unsheathe. “We’re your worst nightmare.”

“Stop!” Heatherdawn yowled, throwing herself between Oakstar and the strange cats. She stared at the brown she-cat, breathing heavily. “We don’t want a fight. We’re looking for a light ginger tom who smells like us. Have you seen him?”

“We smelt him around here,” Stormstripe added.

“Heatherdawn.” Oakstar growled the warning, but to the deputy’s surprise, the brown she-cat tipped her head to the side and swayed on her paws.

“Yeah, we saw a cat like that ‘round noon today,” she said. Heatherdawn blinked at her unknown terminology.

“When?” Icefern broke in, reading her thoughts. The she-cat snorted.

“Noon. You know, middle of the day. Sun at the highest point. Real warm outside,” she explained. Heatherdawn realized. Oh, sunhigh. “Anyway, we chased the tom off. Haven’t seen ‘em since.”

Stormstripe looked cross. “But we can smell him,” he explained. “He’s been here recently.”

The brown she-cat scoffed. “No he hasn’t. We would know if there was someone foreign on our territory. And right now, it looks like there is,” she added, leering towards Oakstar mockingly. Oakstar unsheathed his claws.

“Oakstar, don’t,”  Heatherdawn pleaded, remembering Ashpoppy’s words. But sure enough, when she looked, Stormstripe and even a hesitant Icefern began to prepare for battle. Heatherdawn’s blood ran cold. We don’t even need to fight! They do follow him blindly!

“On my signal,” Oakstar huffed.

“No,” Heatherdawn said.

“WindClan, attack!” the leader roared, throwing himself at the brown she-cat. She met him in the air, and the two of them yowled before she bowled him over. Heatherdawn hardly had time to process anything when a brown and white tom slammed into her side, knocking the wind out of her. She unshetahed her claws and swiped at his face, not really getting anywhere.

“You Clan cats think you’re so important,” the tom sneered. “But you’re really just weak with a whole lotta hot air.”

Heatherdawn leaned in close to his ear. “I know,” she growled. Then she pushed her legs to his belly and threw him off. He landed with an oof and rolled once before hopping to his paws. Heatherdawn faced him in a crouch when a nearby thud threw her off. She and the brown and white tom both turned to see the brown she-cat drop Oakstar’s limp body.

The tom smirked. “Good job, Screech!” he hollered, giving Heatherdawn a smug look. Heatherdawn stared at them as Screech turned away from Oakstar, satisfied.

“You see?” she taunted. “Your arrogant furball is no match for an Allegiance cat.”

The WindClan patrol stared at her, knowing full well what was going to happen. Screech looked confused for only a brief second at their silence as Oakstar silently rose to his paws behind her. When she heard his livid breathing, she turned around.

“What?” she screeched. Her eyes flashed with… fear, Heatherdawn realized. “You’re dead! I killed you!”

“I’m a real leader,” Oakstar sneered, raising a flexed claw. “I have nine lives and you…” his gaze flickered to the other strange cats, and then to Screech. “You only have one.”

Then he leapt, and the battle resumed. Heatherdawn flinched when she felt a pelt next to hers, but she recognized Ashpoppy’s scent as the gray warrior held off a huge brown tom with a crooked tail.

“What are you doing?” Heatherdawn roared. Ashpoppy grunted as she managed a swipe at the brown tom.

“What does it look like, you furball?” she bellowed back. “I’m helping you. Friends fight together!”

Heatherdawn gritted her teeth as she raised up on her hind legs to meet the brown and white tom. Pride flushed her cheeks when she raked her claws down his belly, causing him to drop and step away, shaking his head. She prepared to face him a third time when she felt a sudden chill against her flank.

Time seemed to freeze, and Heatherdawn was aware of her own breath. The brown and white tom looked up, realizing himself what was happening.  

Ashpoppy had slipped from her side.

Heatherdawn turned her head, just a little, to see Ashpoppy flung across the ground, motionless. And the large brown tom she’d been facing was coming right at her.

Heatherdawn didn’t have time to react as both toms leapt at her, smashing into her face and side at the exact same time. She hit the ground harshly. A burning pain shot through her neck as the brown tom ripped it open, splattering his face with her blood. Her ear split from the tip to the base, and Heatherdawn’s pupils slitted. She shrieked a horrible, painful screech, but it didn’t reach her mouth. Instead, the air flew from her open throat and blood gurgled out, onto the toms that were tearing her apart.  

“No!” came Icefern’s sobbing scream. “Leave her!”

“You’re killing my deputy!” came Oakstar’s roar. Heatherdawn gasped as the brown tom was pulled away from her, thrown somewhere as Oakstar’s face appeared above her. She was absently aware of the other tom slipping form her head, but the splitting pain never left her. She tried to muster the effort to rise, but she slipped in the gathering pool of her blood. The battle grew silent, but Heatherdawn could hear her own raspy breathing and as her unsheathed claws tore at the grass she lay in.

“What’s going to happen?” Icefern whimpered. Stormstripe was beside her, expression grim.

No one answered Icefern.

“Oakstar!” Heatherdawn tried to wheeze. She made a huge attempt to crawl towards him, but blood began to dribble from her nose and mouth. Oakstar gently placed a paw on her shoulder and closed his eyes. Heatherdawn squinted her eyes as she felt tears mist in them. “It hurts…. so bad…”

Those were the only words she could muster before her voice gave out completely. She opened her mouth to scream as the pain seared her entire body, but no sound came out. She lay her head down on the dirt ground, still attempting to breathe and keeping her tail flicking.

“I know,” Oakstar murmured.

Heatherdawn hardly heard him. Her gaze traveled to Stormstripe and Icefern, who held their heads close to hers. And then she saw one last cat, staring at her behind Oakstar.

Ashpoppy.

She was not injured, like she’d magically healed after the battle. Heatherdawn’s eyes widened as realization slowly began to hit her. Why-

Before she could react, her vision blurred. Her pain began to ebb away, and she could hear the muffled and concerned voices of her Clanmates. Everything was numb.

All she felt was betrayal, betrayal, betrayal.

Chapter Twelve

Breeze returned to camp the next morning in a daze. Swallowfur had left as the sun began to rise, and Breeze had gone a separate way back to the Allegiance. She returned through the cursed bramble barrier, and flew out thankfully unnoticed.

Jett saw her when she arrived. The small black she-cat was cleaning her coat by the barrier and stared up at Breeze with wide eyes.

“Where were you?” she echoed. Then she leaned in, whiskers twitching. “Wait, let me guess. You went to look for the intruder yourself?”

Breeze’s blood went cold.

There were two intruders last night, and one smelled like barn and one like Clan, she recalled. They’d probably smell Clan cats over barn ones, right?

She nodded importantly. “Oh, yes. Anything to protect my new Allegiance.”

Jett looked mildly surprised but generally pleased. “I like your spirit,” she decided. “By the smell of it, you found the intruder.”

Breeze froze up. “Er, I got a very good scent of him,” she lied. "But I didn't spot him."

“Breeze!”

Jett and Breeze both whirled around at Sorrel’s angry voice. The little tortoiseshell was stomping towards her fake mother angrily, chin high.

“Where were you last night?” she demanded. “Winter and I were worried! You can’t just disappear-”

To Breeze’s silent thanks, Sorrel was cut off as a patrol burst into the other side of camp, gasping for air. They looked ruffled, and in the front was Screech, with blood dribbling down her chin and front leg.

“Intruders!” Screech gasped, fangs bared. “A whole gang of them! The Clans cats have found us again!”

Winter looked at Breeze sharply, and the silver cat avoided her gaze. Cats gasped and wove towards them all while murmuring apprehensively, and in the very front was Thorn.

“Calm down,” he commanded, forcing gruffness into his voice. Astrid slithered up beside him, and Breeze narrowed her eyes. “Someone who is not Screech, explain what happened.”

A large brown tom named Hawthorn stepped forward with his head dipped in respect. “We were tracking down the smell of intruders,” he explained, and Breeze’s mind flashed to Swallowfur. “The Clan cats seemed to make up a story about losing a Clanmate. But they were ready to fight, sir.”

Thorn’s whiskers twitched. “And… you fought them?” he guessed flatly. Kestrel, a brown and white tom, spat something onto the ground. Breeze realized in horror that his teeth were stained red. They fought my Clanmates while I was sleeping! She gathered. Oh, no, they weren’t lying at all - they were looking for Swallowfur!

Screech nodded sharply, but Jasmine was the one to speak. “They’ve grown powerful,” she commented, shifting her gaze worriedly. “Screech took down who appeared to be the leader, but he came back to life.”

Murmurs resounded. Breeze exchanged a glance with Sorrel.

“They took one of Oakstar’s lives,” she muttered to the tortoiseshell.

“He told me some crazy story about having nine lives,” Screech muttered, wiping her nose with her paw.

“But Hawthorn and I took down another one of their cats easily,” Kestrel protested, stepping forward. His head was raised in pride, and Breeze froze. “The slinky blue-gray molly. She died pretty quickly, remember?”

Hawthorn nodded, and Breeze wanted to melt into the ground right then. Her legs swayed underneath her.

Ashpoppy.

It had to be Ashpoppy. Who else would be out following Oakstar on a mission as important as that? Who else fit that description? Sorrel turned to her, suddenly concerned.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered. Breeze shook her head and swallowed thickly.

“What do we do about them?” Ripple hollered, tail wavering.

“Yes! This is completely unsafe!” Astrid added, eyes gleaming.

“Perhaps we should attack their Clan when they least expect it,” Grass proposed, tail lashing. “That’ll show them.”

Winter shook her head. “But they far outnumber us,” she pointed out.

“That never stopped us before,” Hawthorn argued. His gaze fell onto Astrid. “Remember when we defeated the rogue group?”

A few of the older cats murmured as they recalled the event. Astrid held her head high, and Breeze remembered Rowan’s heroic tale of her: she’d led the Allegiance into a battle with and won a war.

“Yes,” Jasmine added. “Perhaps we should have Astrid lead us into battle.”

“Or we could wait them out,” Winter suggested quickly, glaring at Jasmine. Jasmine’s pupils slitted, and Breeze inwardly groaned. If you stop being defensive, maybe she'll believe you for once!

“Quiet, Winter,” Astrid spoke calmly. The gray she-cat was staring at Winter intently with an unreadable gaze. “Jasmine is your superior.”

Winter met her gaze. “Not yet.”

Jasmine bristled, and Breeze saw Winter’s claws unsheathe.

Thorn stepped in front of his mate. “Okay, you two, knock it off,” he said, not understanding the tension between them. “We don’t know their motives yet. If we smell them again in our territory, then we may plan from there.”

He ended the gathering with the flick of his golden tail. Breeze looked at Sorrel worriedly.

“What happens if the Allegiance starts a war with WindClan?” she whispered, eyes wide. Breeze shook her head.

“Then we fight where our allegiance lies,” she said simply, flicking her tail at the Allegiance cats. “If they can pick off Oakstar than Rowan doesn’t have to.”

“I almost forgot about the deal.”

“Me too.” Breeze sighed and sat down as Allegiance life went on as usual. “I don’t know if it will ever work, though. Jasmine won’t listen to Winter. Plus, Astrid hasn’t even done anything out of the ordinary.”

“She might soon,” Sorrel pointed out. “She probably doesn’t want to get pushed to the back of the crowd if we’re on the brink of war.”

“The Clans love a war hero,” Breezed pointed out, whiskers twitching.

Sorrel looked at her with a steady gaze. “What are you planning to do?” she whispered, reading her thoughts. “After Oakstar dies?”

Breeze shrugged stiffly but didn’t meet the she-cat’s gaze. “I want to try to go back to WindClan,” she said. “As cowardly as they are, and as much as they refuse to learn from their mistakes, it’s my home.” Breeze’s head raised. “I don’t belong in the forest. But I don’t belong with Oakstar either.”

Sorrel grinned. “Someone’s gotta go.”

Breeze’s expression changed when she noticed Astrid padding up to them, head held high.

“Good morning, girls,” she said, not much sounding like she meant it. Her distasteful look traveled from Breeze to Sorrel. “Lovely to see you out of the sleeping-den."

Breeze’s cheeks flushed. “Thanks,” she managed. The mate of Thorn looked at Sorrel, and something sparked in her eyes. Breeze instinctively pulled the kit closer.

“What are your thoughts on… the battle with the Clan?” Breeze asked, trying to keep from trembling. Astrid was terrifying. She had a face that was hard to forget: triangular, with sharp cheekbones that made her almond eyes look huge. Her nose was bright pink against her gray fur. Astrid blinked.

“You’ve heard my thoughts,” she replied smoothly. “I will lead my allies into battle mercilessly if they tread one pawprint on Allegiance territory. A cat with nine lives is no match for a cat with the skill and wisdom of a lioness.”

“Oh,” was all Breeze could manage. Then Astrid leaned in close to her, narrowing her eyes.

“I’m serious, Breeze,” she murmured. Breeze was uncomfortable at how her name was annunciated. “I don’t know where you came from, and I don’t care. But if you’re like the Clan cats, if you place one paw over your boundaries-”

Suddenly Astrid’s claws unsheathed, and Breeze nearly sprung back.

“You know where your fate lies,” Astrid finished smoothly.

Breeze swallowed nervously as Astrid turned away and began to walk towards Thorn.

“Watch your back, Breeze,” she said over her shoulder. “We wouldn’t want anything terrible to happen to you or your kit. My kin is my pride, you know.”

Breeze was staring at her until she was fully gone.

“That,” she said, “is the scariest she-cat I’ve ever seen.”

“My kin is my pride,” Sorrel repeated in a mocking tone. “Pah! Sure, right after you exiled Rowan.”

“No, yeah, there’s no doubt she’s going to kill Jasmine,” Breeze said, turning to further her private conversation. “We need to find a way to warn her before-”

“Breeze!” someone called across the clearing. Breeze raised her head, and to her surprise it was Screech ambling towards her. She had small scratches all over her body, and Breeze vaguely remembered that she had fought Oakstar. Beeze pricked her ears.

“Hello,” she said politely. “Can I help you?”

“I’m inviting you to a hunt,” Screech revealed, dipping her head in greetings. Breeze glanced over Screech’s broad shoulders.

“Just us?” she asked skeptically. Screech nodded once, but there was a silent threat in her eyes that made Breeze say goodbye to Sorrel before following the large brown cat outside camp.

There wasn’t much hunting done at first. Screech lead the way, through all the trails they’d followed the previous day.

“So… where are we going?” Breeze wondered.

“To the meadow,” Screech said simply from ahead. “There’s always buzzard there.”

Breeze’s whiskers twitched as they emerged from the woods and into the open field where they had seen Swallowfur the first time. “But I don’t know how to catch buzzard.”

Suddenly Screech whirled around, calmed air dissipated.

“Look,” she growled, leering towards Breeze to make sure no one else was looking. “I don’t know what stunt you’re trying to pull, but I will not tolerate someone hurting my Allegiance.”

Breeze’s heart missed a beat.

“What?” she managed innocently. Screech hissed and rolled her ugly yellow eyes.

“Don’t give me that,” she snarled. “I don’t know how stupid my allies are, but I’m not.” She puffed out her chest proudly. “I know Sorrel isn’t your biological daughter. At least, she’s not yours and Rowan’s.”

Breeze’s hopes fell.

“No-”

“Yes,” Screech growled impatiently. “Rowan is dark ginger, you’re a light gray. There’s no way you could make a tortoiseshell as pale as Sorrel.”

Breeze stiffened. “Rowan carries the dilute gene,” she said, reciting what Rowan had told her word for word. She cursed herself for only half listening as foreign words came out of her mouth. “From both parents.”

Screech rolled her eyes. “Please. You’re nearly all white. Rowan has white toes. Sorrel has no white. Are you connecting the dots now?”

Breeze took a step back and did not speak.

I don’t know how you know Rowan, but coming in here out of the blue and lying to Thorn’s face about his kin could get you exiled, or worse.”

The word exile stung Breeze. “Who are you going to tell?” she challenged in a whisper.

Screech shrugged. “No one. For now. I rather like watching drama unfold onto itself.”

Breeze watched the brown she-cat leave with a new sense of dread and hopefulness.

“But you better watch your back, kitten. Because once the truth comes out, you and Sorrel are going to be out of here.”

Breeze forced a wry smile. “Right,” she purred. Screech turned and left, but Breeze watched closely enough to see confusion flash in her eyes before she was gone.

******

Night fell on Breeze’s second day as an Allegiance cat. She had tuned out most of the day and rested in anticipation for the night, and when every cat was asleep she snuck off to the meeting place the night before.

Rowan was the only one where when she arrived. When he saw her, his yellow eyes rounded in happiness.

“Hey, kid,” he said in an unusually pleased tone. Breeze grinned.

“Your mother is officially a psychopath,” she declared. Rowan wrapped his fluffy tail around his paws.

“Why? What’d she do?”

“Dunno. Lots of passive aggressive stuff about beating up Clan cats. She also made a pretty snarky comment about loving her kin. Told me to watch my back.”

Rowan's eyes widened. “Has she threatened Jasmine?”

“Not yet.” Breeze shook her head. She paused and looked at him. “You know? This is off-topic, but this morning Sorrel asked me where I was gonna go when I get everything done - after Oakstar dies. Do you think WindClan will accept me, even if I kill him?”

Rowan looked distant. “If they don’t accept you, I know someone who will,” he murmured.

Breeze followed his gaze and looked back to the Allegaince cats, snoring somewhere in the distance. But something told Breeze that Rowan wasn’t talking about them.

“There’s always extra room at the barn,” Rowan said quietly, shuffling his paws. “It gets lonely sometimes. And you’re not bad to have around, kid.”

Breeze broke into a purr. “Aw, you don’t hate me, Ro!” she exclaimed. Rowan looked at her strangely.

“Ro?” he mused. “Am I getting nicknamed now, too?”

Breeze laughed lightly. “What? Have you never had a nickname before?”

Rowan laughed along with her and shook his head. “Nah. It sounds weird.”

Breeze leered in towards him. “Is there one you’d prefer?” she asked drily, not expecting a real answer.

“I’d like to be Dad,” he said.

Breeze scrunched up her face. “You’re not a dad,” she replied obviously. Rowan chuckled.

“I’d like to be,” he admitted, fluffing his fur out. “I think I’d be a great dad.”

Breeze looked up at the older tom fondly. The tom who had brought her in, who had listened to her story, who had stayed with her by Sundusk’s grave and made her a promise. The tom who had fathered her in one night more than Oakstar did his entire life.  

“I think you’d make a great dad too,” she whispered.  

The moment was broken as three cats exploded into the clearing, breathing heavily. Winter was leading, Sorrel was at her side, and behind them was…

“Swallowfur!” Breeze exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Don’t you know you caused a battle?”

The medicine cat’s head dipped in embarrassment. “I know. I came here to warn you.”

Breeze’s pelt prickled at his wording. Winter stepped up, eyes darkened.

“We found him lurking at the border,” she explained. “Thank goodness it was us and not someone else.”

“When I got back to camp this morning, everyone was panicked and looking for me. I lied that I hadn’t found the herb and was forced to take shelter,” Swallowfur explained quickly. “They said a patrol went out to look for me. It took them ages to come back. When they did, they said they’d been attacked by some strange cats across the meadow. Heatherdawn had been killed mercilessly.”

Breeze was horrified, but something deep inside her was relieved.

“So Ashpoppy is okay?” she breathed. Swallowfur nodded.

“She was on the patrol, but yes, she’s fine,” he said dismissively. “She was made the new deputy in place of Heatherdawn.”

Breeze’s fur flushed. “I didn’t know Heatherdawn was deputy.”

“Okay, you two can gossip later,” Rowan intruded. “I need to figure out if my sister is going to live.”

Winter shook her head. “There’s no point in talking to her. She hates me.”

“Then maybe someone else should do it.”

Every head turned in surprise as Sorrel spoke. Breeze nodded her apprentice on eagerly, and the small she-cat gained the confidence to raise her voice.

“Wouldn’t Jasmine take the word of four cats over one?” he pressed. “What if, at sunhigh tomorrow, we meet Rowan outside camp and bring Jasmine, the four of us. We can tell her what’s going on before it’s too late.”

Rowan looked at Winter, Winter looked at Swallowfur, Swallowfur looked at Breeze, Breeze looked at Sorrel.

“Sorrel,” she said seriously. “That’s a brilliant idea.”

Sorrel beamed. Rowan let out a low whistle.

“Great idea, kid,” he praised, patting the top of Sorrel’s head lightly. “So sunigh tomorrow? That’s it? That’s the plan?”

Winter nodded. “Hopefully this one works,” she said excitedly. “I’m glad we got that over with. I’m ready to sleep!” Sorrel followed the white she-cat with a yawn and a wide smile. Rowan said goodbye to Breeze politely, and soon Breeze and Swallowfur were the only ones left.

“Something terrible is going to happen,” Swallowfur murmured, staring up at the moon. Breeze didn’t look at him.

“Do you have to be so ominous?” she muttered, cleaning her paw from undergrowth thorns.

Swallowfur shrugged. “Paleberry’s going insane. I didn’t realize how much until I came back today. She keeps mumbling about cats that have been dead for ages. And then, out of the blue, she said your name.”

Breeze blinked. “So?”

Swallowfur waited for her to catch on. “Your rogue name. She called you Breeze.”

“So?”

Swallowfur heaved a large sigh. “She knows something, Breeze. She keeps talking about the balances of evil, chaos and shades of gray - stuff I don’t understand. But I think I need to take you back to WindClan. For my mentor’s safety and for all of WindClan. I understand that much”

Breeze froze up. “I can’t,” she said simply. “I have to help the Allegiance and kill Oakstar first.”

“It sounds like your Allegiance problem is wrapping up tomorrow.”

Breeze nodded. “So I can leave and kill Oakstar.”

“That’s the thing,” Swallowfur sighed darkly. “I don’t want you to kill him.”

Breeze felt her adrenaline pick up and ice run in her veins.

“After everything that’s been done,” she said, eerily monotonous at first, “after every grief and burden he’s caused to my family, you want that rat to live?”

Swallowfur was displeased at her tone. “Breeze, I know how much you hate him, and the Clan is beginning to see your side. Believe me. But,” he added, and Breeze groaned, “I need to take you to Paleberry without you killing WindClan’s leader.”

Breeze dug her claws into the mud angrily, and she knew Swallowfur could see the fire in her icy blue eyes. “That defeats the entire purpose!” she snarled, not even caring if the Allegiance cats heard. “I thought there was a mutual respect between us!”

“There is!” Swallowfur insisted. “You’re making a poor decision, and I want to help you to not choose that path!”

“I want to go home!” Breeze shot back. “And unless Oakstar is dead I am never getting there!”

“You can get home,” Swallowfur insisted, eyes lightning. “But killing your father is not the way to do that.”

That was the exact moment that something inside Breeze snapped.

“He’s not my father!” she roared. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me?”

Swallowfur leaned back at her screaming, but he still remained eerily set on her.

“You’re being selfish,” he said simply.

“I’m being selfish?” Breeze spat. “Paleberry is being selfish. Why couldn’t you have told the Clan I was needed before I got exiled, huh? Why does she even need me back?”

Swallowfur’s lip curled. “So you don’t tear WindClan apart!” he snarled, finally losing patience himself.

Breeze was on the verge of howling. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that you’re a threat, Breeze. How does that feel?”

“Why didn’t Paleberry say something?”

“She was afraid. Everyone makes mistakes,” the medicine cat reminded her bitterly. “And now, she’s receiving omens that you’re going to destroy WindClan with your anger-”

“You could have said something ages ago!” Breeze interrupted. “Why didn’t you?”

Swallowfur stopped. Something about him changed, and his hostile air dropped. “Because I knew you were a good cat, behind your sarcasm and wit. I knew you never made a bad choice.” His eyes slitted. “But you’ve changed.”

“I can’t believe you would think that,” Breeze meowed icily.  “I’ve always been the same cat.”

Swallowfur’s chin jutted and he looked her in the eye. “You know, I fell in love with you,” he whispered. “I had a code to follow, and I chose you over that code.”

Breeze blinked in scorn. “You don’t love me,” she snapped.

Swallowfur huffed. “No, you just never noticed. You were so busy fighting with Oakthorn and being a brat that you didn’t notice.”

Breeze let out a slow breath. “I didn’t notice,” she growled, “because you are a medicine cat.”

Swallowfur shrugged and looked at his paws. “I thought maybe you’d notice now that you’re a rogue. You don’t have rules. You don’t care.”

Breeze stared at him for a long moment. There was something sad about him, something that told her maybe she was wrong and she’d never noticed. But a cat who prevented her from doing what was necessary was not one that held any affection for her. She thought he was an escape, but he was only holding her back.

“You don’t love me,” she repeated with a cold stiffness in her voice. Swallowfur finally looked her in the eye, and his stare was livid.

“You’re right,” Swallowfur replied quietly. There was so much ice in his tone that Breeze stopped cold. “I fell in love with Breezefeather.”

His eyes slitted.

“Not you.”

Breeze opened her mouth, ready with a sharp reply, when there was a caterwaul as someone behind Swallowfur leapt up, hidden in the darkness, and came down on Swallowfur’s back. Breeze didn’t have time to utter a warning as Swallowfur gave a horrible scream, and the snapping of bone resounded through the forest, like prey had been caught.

Breeze didn’t register what happened. She whirled around to see Swallowfur crumpled to the ground with a thud that echoed around the forest. Blindly, tripping over the roots, she ambled over to where he lay.

Swallowfur was curled up, dead before he even hit the ground. Breeze felt her head swim with hauntingly familiar scenarios as she saw him, back turned towards her, blood pooling around his throat.

Tick, tock.

“Swallowfur? What happened?” she croaked, prodding him with a paw. Her voice broke in emotion. “S-Swallowfur?”

There was no time for sadness. No time for emotions. A dark figure loomed above her, eyes wide. Then it darted away.

Tick, tock

Breeze’s spine prickled in rage and she tore after the other cat. Luckily for her, Swallowfur’s killer wasn’t used to the forest. He tripped within seconds of fleeing and slammed onto the ground.

Breeze, blinded by rage, leapt. She hissed and drilled into his throat, shaking violently and showing no mercy. You killed Swallowfur! The attacker fought back feebly, and Breeze was so blinded by rage that she never even saw his face.

Tick, tock

Then she let go. His body hit the ground and at that moment, a shard of moonlight basked onto his gray tabby fur.

Breeze stepped back in horror. His claws were sheathed and there was no blood. In his mouth, none of his teeth were stained red. A cold dread hit Breeze.

He was innocent.

Tick, tock.

But what haunted her the most was the eyes. He looked so disappointed… something she had always feared from him. Breeze stepped back shakily.

I am a murderer… I killed Stormstripe.

I killed my mentor.

Tick, tock.

A nearby bracken thicket shook, and something darted away. Numbly, Breeze made her way over, stepping over Swallowfur’s limp body. Something was still snagged on a thorn, and she delicately picked it off with her teeth.

She brought it into the light and nearly bristled in anger.

Tick-

It was a tuft of thick, reddish brown fur.

***

Moments later, Breeze stomped into Allegiance camp where unsurprisingly, most of the cats had woken up to the sounds of her and Swallowfur.

She was swaying on her paws as she held the fur in between her claws triumphantly, and cats emerged to see what was going on.

"If you're wondering, wonder no more!" Breeze bellowed, beginning to feel queasy. She swayed to the side and nearly fell over. "For I, Breeze, have taken out an intruder by myself! I killed a Clan cat!"

Barely holding in her stomach and her dignity, Breeze toppled over and blacked out.

Chapter Thirteen

Breeze wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or not. She remembered a paw reaching out, murmuring soft words to her as the sun began to rise. The paw held little black seeds and the cat told her to eat gently. Breeze’s vision was fuzzy, and her mind groggy, but she obeyed with a sense of security.

She lapped up whatever was on the cat’s paw as she was told to eat, and she felt parched along with her pain. She asked for water, or wet moss, but she received neither. The cat asked her how she was, if she was feeling better. Breeze was beginning to awaken, though her memory was still fuzzy. She told the helpful cat the truth; she was getting better after whatever happened.

The cat stared at her for a long time with narrowed eyes, and Breeze was confused as hostility replaced its kindness. Then the paw that had fed her came down on her head, between her ears, and smashed her head down onto the stone floor. Breeze didn’t have time to react as the floor rushed up to meet her head.

She didn’t remember any of it.

Breeze awoke with a blazing headache and a mind-numbing sense of dread.

She hardly recalled what had happened the previous night, and the day in general. So much death… Heatherdawn, Swallowfur, and Stormstripe - how had she suddenly become so involved with a Clan she’d left behind?

She felt so much guilt that is was nearly unbearable. Stormstripe had been more than a mentor. His kits would be born soon. If Breeze hadn’t shut him out or been less of a bratty apprentice, maybe he wouldn’t have been so disappointed in her towards her exile.

But that wouldn’t change that I killed him, Breeze thought bitterly. She was laying in the den, completely alone besides another cat who was sitting near the entrance. Sunlight was filtering in onto her silver and white pelt, and Breeze was reminded briefly of her morning at the barn, sleeping in without a worry.

She blinked away sleep but not her throbbing migraine as the cat at the entrance turned her head slightly to look at Breeze.

“What time is it?” Breeze asked groggily. “How long since I…”

Breeze paused in thought. What had she done? She remembered barging into camp fueled by anger and adrenaline, announced something, and then… her mind reached, but she felt nothing. The cat seemed to sense her confusion and spoke.

“Since you exploded into camp in the middle of the night exclaiming you killed a Clan cat and promptly passed out?” Breeze stiffened when she recognized Astrid’s voice. “You were out for hours. It’s almost noon.”

Beeze recalled the word the Allegiance cats used to call sunhigh. Immediately Sorrel’s idea came back into her head, and she scrambled to her paws. We need to talk to Jasmine soon outside camp!

But when she reached her paws, Breeze felt woozy immediately. She looked at Astrid, who was staring at her evenly, but there were… two of her. Her head felt as if it were going to split in half, and her legs buckled underneath her so she hit the ground and felt slightly better.

Breeze gritted her teeth together. “Did I hit my head?” she mumbled, rubbing her temple lightly with a paw. She felt a knot beginning to form and winced. Astrid paused in thought before nodding.

“You were out of it when you came, and you landed on rock,” she explained. “Thorn sent me in about an hour ago to lull you back with seeds until you were well again.”

Breeze slowly lowered her paw. “What kind of seeds?” she whispered in horror. Her stomach tightened in worry. Astrid doesn’t like me, and she’s poisoned a cat once before-

“Poppy,” Astrid replied. “I sent Winter out to get more, since you’re obviously still in a lot of pain. It’s best if you stay in and rest.”

Breeze narrowed her eyes. Winter is out of camp… I’m not well… that leaves - “Where’s Sorrel?” she managed politely, staring up at Astrid. The gray she-cat shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said simply. A warning tinged her tone. “She’s not my kit.”

Breeze’s eyes rounded in anger. She’s your kin! She thought. Or at least, you think she is!

“What happened to… to the cats I killed?” she muttered. “Are they buried?”

Astrid looked back at her warily. “Yes,” she replied. “We don’t usually bury our enemies, but we figured it would be best to stay out of war with the Clans by sparing them the news we killed their own.” There was bitterness to her voice when she said that, and Breeze knew that it had not been her idea.

Breeze went silent for a moment, gritting her teeth to ignore the buzzing sound that wrapped around her skull.

“How long until this goes away?” she managed to ask. Astrid’s whiskers twitched.

“However long it takes your head to heal,” she replied. She switched the topic swiftly and stared outside the den, back to Breeze. “So how did you do it, Breeze? How did you kill the Clan cats?”

Breeze swallowed and tried to recall. I’m not telling her the truth!

“I heard them outside camp,” Breeze explained slowly. “So I went to investigate, and we started arguing before it broke into fighting.”

“You killed both of them?”

“One of them was young. They’re not well trained.”

“Mm.”

Breeze stared at Astrid’s back, wondering what the gray she-cat could be thinking.

“You heard them?” Astrid went on, glancing over her shoulder. “Must have been those large ears of yours.”

Breeze flushed. She did have large ears - WindClan ears. She did what she could - nod in embarrassment.

“Yes, I-”

“Sorrel inherited those from you, I see,” Astrid went on, and Breeze felt a cold sense of familiarity in the conversation. It was like the one she and Screech had the previous day, where Screech had found out the truth about Sorrel. Astrid’s head tipped to the side in thought. “She didn’t inherit much from my son, did she?”

Breeze’s ear-tips were burning. “Well, she has orange patches as well as gray -” Astrid gave her a funny look. “Hm. Quite intriguing. Anyway, I should leave you to rest.”

“No!” Breeze exclaimed when Astrid rose to her paws. Embarrassed by Astrid’s surprised glance, she added, “Uh, how did you know about the poppy seeds? And how they work?”

Astrid looked taken aback by the question. “Common knowledge.”

Breeze shook her head. “I didn’t know that,” she lied. Astrid shrugged. “So uh… thanks,” Breeze added awkwardly.

Astrid nodded, and despite Breeze’s injuries she felt a surge of pride. There’s my proof, she realized. Rowan said none of the Allegiance cats know about medicine, and Astrid obviously does!

“It’s no problem, really,” Astrid said coolly. “Just go back to sleep and get some rest. Do not leave this den until you’re well, understand?”

Breeze held back a retort. They’re probably meeting Jasmine right now with Rowan, she realized. But as Astrid left, she could see Sorrel in the center of camp, play-fighting with Thorn. Breeze couldn’t help a smile.

As much of a burden Sorrel seemed at first, she had taken a liking to the small she-cat. Sometimes it was hard to forget that she was a mentor, not a mother. Astrid wove towards them and smiled wryly as Sorrel “pinned” Thorn. The golden leader laughed jovially as Sorrel hopped off and purred.

“I got you!” she demanded. “I’m the leader now!”

Thorn purred heartily and Astrid joined him. Sorrel’s eyes were shining, like she genuinely looked up to Thorn as a grandfather. Breeze was slightly saddened, but at the same time it worked out. If we can’t get back to WindClan, we know Thorn will take Sorrel back in.

But for me? Who knows.

In the few days Breeze had been in the Allegiance, she found it not to her taste. It was definitely like being a ThunderClan cat - and Breeze was not one. She was more often reminiscing by the meadow instead of woodland hunting, and although the cats were nice enough, she heard mutters and a few jokes about her long legs and hatred of trees. She was still there for one reason and one reason alone: because of Sorrel.

It was simple. Breeze did not belong there, she belonged in WindClan. And that’s exactly where she would go.

Breeze was jerked from her thoughts as Sorrel coughed.

“Oh, you must be coming down with something!” Astrid exclaimed, looking saddened. Thorn’s gaze darkened, but Sorrel jutted her chin out.

“I’m fine!” she insisted, only to break out into another cough. “It must.. Just be.. Allergies!”

“Nonsense,” Astrid sniffed, whisking her tail under Sorrel’s nose. “You've been coughing since morning. I’ll get you some medicine right away. You stay right here with Thorn.”

“She’s very wise in the way of medicine,” Thorn explained to Sorrel, who coughed a third time. “I think she gets it from being a former rogue.”

“Breeze!”

Breeze switched her attention to Winter, who had screeched to a halt in front of the empty den and blocked her view of Thorn and Sorrel.

“Rowan’s right outside camp,” she explained quickly. Breeze was startled by how frantic she seemed. Winter paused and stared at her. “What- do you not remember what happened at all last night?”

Breeze shook her head. “I remember some of it,” she protested. Winter scowled.

“Not your weird outburst,” she said. She reached out a paw gingerly and touched the knot on Breeze head, at which Breeze hissed and swatted it away. “Oh, you must have been so out of it. Right when the sun was rising this morning, Astrid was sent in to see how you were faring. I followed her out of suspicion, to make sure she wasn’t gonna try anything, and she gave you these weird seeds before she slammed your head down into the floor!” With that, Winter rolled a few small black seeds onto the rock in front of Breeze.

Breeze’s head shot up, but everything made sense - Astrid’s suspicious words, asking if she was okay, the out of place knot. “Those were poppy seeds,” Breeze added. “They dull pain and cause sleep. She gave me them so I wouldn’t remember her hurting me!”

Confusion flickered across Winter’s face. “Why would she want to… Oh.” The confusion slowly melted to a sense of dread. “Oh no.”

Breeze’s eyes widened, and though her splitting headache was fading, she could barely manage to see one of Winter. “She’s going to strike today,” Breeze realized aloud. She and Winter shared a terrified glance.

“Sorrel or Jasmine?” Winter whispered, glancing over her shoulder. “Or Thorn?”

Breeze shook her head. “She wants me to be delusional - it’s got to be Sorrel.” Breeze made a tremendous effort to get to her paws and amble towards the end of the den. Winter stepped aside, and they could see Thorn and Sorrel, who still hadn’t stopped coughing. Astrid was with them now, paw held out in a familiar gesture Breeze had seen just that morning.

“Here,” the gray she-cat purred, holding out a paw with three small, black berries rolling on it. “These should clear up your cough in no time.”

Sorrel leaned forward obviously.

Winter leapt.

Thorn stepped backwards.

Astrid grinned.

Breeze screamed and jolted forward.

Time slowed.

Tick, tock.

But as Breeze’s migraine throbbed with her every step, she did not reach Sorrel. Winter was ahead of her, but the fluffy white paw was still tail-lengths away from the kit with nightshade in her mouth. Neither of them reached her.

Someone else did instead.

Breeze could not see everything clearly, but she could see the bramble barrier break open as a large cat hurled through, ginger fur dappled in the sun, familiar yellow eyes determined. Breeze’s heart leapt into her throat. Rowan!

Rowan hit Sorrel but didn’t crush her, and instead rolled her away. Cats turned immediately, meowing in confusion. Two berries fell from Sorrel’s mouth when they landed.  

“Spit it out!” Rowan commanded roughly. Sorrel had true fear in her eyes, but when she recognized Rowan something hit her. Breeze stumbled forward as the kit went still, and her breath caught in her throat.

Something rolled from her mouth. Breeze closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, she sent up a prayer to StarClan.

She’s okay.

Her peace did not last. Astrid stepped forward, eyes wide and livid. “Rowan!” she spat. “You were told to never come back!”

Rowan leered close to his mother’s face. “I did. I didn’t want to. But you tried to kill my kit.”

The clearing went silent. Astrid stalked up to her son, and a circle encompassed them.

“You betrayed us!” she snarled. She faced the crowd, and Breeze had never seen a cat so angry. “Didn’t he? This is the cat that tried to kill Thorn, your leader.”

Rowan’s gaze sharpened. “You tried to kill him, not me.”

“Ha!” Astrid spat. Her shoulders shook with her sharp laugh. “Do you hear this liar! Putting the blame on me months later! What an idiot.”

Rowan tipped his head to the side. “Your own son?” he growled. “How rude.”

“You know what’s rude,” Astrid snarled, “is attempting to kill your family.”

Rowan’s thick tail flicked. “Speak for yourself.”

Breeze watched with dread as Astrid’s claws slowly unsheathed. Rowan started her down. He did not look afraid. He looked at her like she was just his mother, not someone who had framed him. He looked at her like he was a stubborn apprentice, not a framed murderer. Breeze swallowed a lump of saliva.

“Put your claws away,” he growled. “I’m not going to fight you.”

“You’re a traitor,” Astrid snarled, lashing her thin tail. Rowan’s broad shoulders fell, and he looked slightly defeated.

“You know, even though Winter took a heck of a long time to convince me, I never fully believed her,” he whispered. “You wouldn’t do that. Not to family. Would you, Mom?”

Something sparked in Astrid’s blue gaze at those words and as her son’s voice broke, but she did not speak.  

Thorn pushed past Jett and Kestrel, eyes wide. He looked in more of a daze then Breeze.

“Son?” he whispered. “Is is really you?”

Rowan’s head turned for a split second to locate Thorn’s voice as he called out his name, his title. And Astrid saw her golden opportunity, the one solution to her every problem.

“Bloody traitor!” she howled, launching at her son’s throat.

Breeze cried out, but she didn’t hear it. Her blurry vision made out Astrid’s unsheathed claws coming across Rowan’s throat. She stumbled forward, and no one held her back. She didn’t reach them.

Astrid turned and sunk her jaws into Rowan’s throat, wasting no time. Rowan’s head jerked towards her, to where Breeze could see them, and his yellow eyes were full of sadness and betrayal that had replaced his anger. He really loved his mother, even after all she did.

By the time Breeze had made her way to them, Astrid had already dropped Rowan to the ground. Breeze could hear Astrid bellow something to the whole Allegiance, but Breeze could only hear the buzzing in her brain and the pain in her heart. Breeze collapsed over Rowan and closed her eyes just to feel his raspy breathing and as he jerked a few times.

Rowan’s head turned towards her, and recognition lit up the sadness in his glassy eyes.

“Hey, kid,” he whispered. Breeze’s chest was fluctuating, and it took her a moment to realize that she was crying. A pelt bumped into her side, and Breeze saw Sorrel out of the corner of her eye, breathing heavily.

“Ro,” she whispered. “You didn’t have to-”

“Shut. We all knew it was gonna happen.”

Breeze looked into his eyes and knew that wasn’t the case. So much betrayal filled them, and Breeze was brought back to her tales of Sundusk. Her father.

When she thought of the word father, she didn’t picture Oakstar. She never had. She used to imagine Sundusk hunting with her, with his orange fur just like Redfire’s and her eyes just like his. But now she looked at Rowan and felt an overbearing emotion - one she had never felt before. Oakstar wasn’t her father, and neither was Sundusk.

Someone else was, someone she hardly even knew and yet knew the very best.

“Ro,” she said again. Her voice broke. “You’re gonna be alright.”

Rowan ignored her. His yellow eyes glazed his wound. “You know, kid, I was a little tough on you at first,” he admitted with a chortled laugher that almost made a gurgling sound. “But I think that was alright. Once you tell them the truth, you succeeded. I didn’t go out for nothing. I’m sorry I couldn’t take out Oakstar for you.”

Breeze sniffled. “That’s a stupid thing to be worried about.”

Rowan shook his head, or at least tried to. “No, kid, it’s not. Everybody deserves to have a parent who loves and respects them. I tried to be that, kid. I secretly hoped you’d come and stay with me, but that would be selfish. I always wanted kits, and you were so much like me that it just…”

Rowan trailed off with a shrug. “I don’t know. I knew I couldn’t be Sundusk. I’d be lucky to have half the strength he did. But I did feel something for you and Sorrel. You guys… you guys are a better family than these brats.” His gaze traveled to his allies to hide the tears forming in the base of his eyes.

Breeze wiped her cheek with her paw. “Thanks for taking us in,” she whispered. Sorrel nodded.

“We mean it,” she murmured. “You’re… you’re a good dad.”

“We don’t have to play at that gig anymore,” Rowan said with a light chuckle. But when Breeze looked at him, she realized that Sorrel’s words were everything to her.

“No,” she whispered. Rowan’s gaze flickered to her as his breathing slowed. “You did so much for us and you didn’t have to. You showed us strength and toughness, but that comes with love sometimes.” Breeze took in a shaking breath.

“Right back at you,” Rowan mumbled. He began to close his eyes, and his limbs began to lose their stiffness. Breeze felt his blood trickle around her paws, but she ignored it. “Oakstar and Sorrel’s father, they kinda sucked. I just wanted to give back. You girls are better than what they want you to believe.”

Breeze remembered Rowan’s words, just the night before.

“I’d like to be a dad,” he’d said proudly.

You are one, Breeze promised him silently.

You’re mine.

“You did,” Breeze whispered as her eyes filled up again. “Thank you. For being my dad.”

“Thank you for being mine,” Sorrel added quietly. "My real one."

Rowan’s eyes were barely open enough, but Breeze saw them light up.

“I must be the luckiest dad in the world, then,” he whispered, closing his eyes a final time. “Goodbye, Sorrel. Goodbye, kid.”

“Bye, Ro.” Breeze’s voice shook completely. She shook him gently, but he had stopped moving. His flank flattened with his final breath. When reality caught up to Breeze, she bowed her head into his thick ginger fur and sobbed.

“Thank you,” she heard Sorrel whisper. “I’ll never forget you.”

Breeze couldn’t feel Sundusk watching her. She hadn’t felt her dad in a long time.

But she had a dad, a great one, and she hadn’t even realized.

“Can you hear me, Ro?” she whispered into his thick ginger fur. “It’s me. It’s your kid.”

Chapter Fourteen

Breeze didn’t want to move. She was clinging onto Rowan’s still-warm fur, and her throat was heaving as she cried, but she felt so utterly hopeless that she didn’t move. She forgot about the rest of the Allegiance, the rest of the world. She didn’t leave because she chose to. She left because she was pried.

Breeze hissed as someone grabbed her scruff and heaved her away from Rowan’s body. The cold leaf-fall air hit Breeze’s damp face as she was lifted to her paws. She turned around with a curled lip to see Ripple, who set her aside with a grim expression. She tried to hiss again at him, but it came out as an ugly gurgling sound.

“Breeze,” the silver tom said gently. “Listen.”

Breeze glared at him but stayed silent aside from her own heaving, fluctuating breaths. The Allegiance looked genuinely appalled, and Astrid’s back was to Breeze, head high. Breeze realized that the moments she had spent watching Rowan die were only heartbeats, not hours like it had felt.

Thorn shoved his way through the crowd until he was beside Ripple and Breeze. His gaze was blank and his mouth was dropped open. He looked truly crushed.

“Astrid,” he whispered. Astrid turned towards him coldly.

“I did this Allegiance a favor,” she said simply. Thorn was livid, and Breeze became genuinely afraid of the normally calm tom as he fluffed up his golden fur.

“You killed our son!” he spat.

“She’s done so much more than that,” Winter growled, stepping up from the crowd. All the gazes fell on her, and Winter was staring at Rowan weakly, but she held her chin high. Sorrel slowly rose from Rowan’s still body and padded over to Winter, standing beside her friend.

“Yeah,” she added. “She’s tormented this Allegiance without any of you knowing.”

Breeze looked at Ripple before stepping forward.

“I agree,” she added, nodding sharply. Her headache had began to numb and instead turn to cold, bitter hatred. Astrid rolled her eyes and spoke to Thorn.

“Please. You’re going to believe two rogues and one regular over me?”

Thorn stared at his dead son. “I haven’t believed anything,” he murmured. Then his gaze flickered to her. “What’s going on?”

Winter and Breeze exchanged a glance, and Winter nodded. Breeze knew exactly what she had to do, exactly what she feared.

“Tell them,” whispered Winter. “Tell them everything.”

The collective gaze turned to Breeze, who stepped into the center of the throng.

“When I tell you all this, I want you to hear my whole story,” she began, voice still weak. She cleared her throat, and Sorrel nodded her on. “Don’t interrupt me until I am done. Because some cats deserve to hear the truth.”

“From a rogue?” Grass snarled from somewhere in the back. Breeze’s eyes flashed around her, and she located the spiky brown pelt behind Astrid.

“Look at that. You already didn’t listen,” she growled. Grass glared at her but said no more. Breeze blinked slowly, and a crow called overhead. “Sorrel and I are not who we think you are. She is not my daughter, and she is not Rowan’s daughter either.”

Gasps followed her words. Winter even looked appalled, and Breeze remembered that Rowan was the only one who knew the whole truth.

“What?” Thorn whispered, looking heartbroken. Screech, who stood beside Winter, had a winner’s gleam in her eyes.

“We met Rowan not too long ago,” Breeze went on, raising her voice so the others would quiet down. “He was hiding out at the barn near Clan territory. We exchanged stories. Turns out, we're not too different.” Breeze looked over her shoulder at Astrid with a glare. “Sorrel and I were once Clan cats,” she went on quickly. That was the breaking point for the cats.

“You’re Clan cats?” Kestrel snarled in disbelief. Hawthorn’s claws unsheathed beside him.

“How did you find us?” he added gruffly.

“I knew there was something up with them,” Jasmine sniffed.

“They have to be bluffing!” Jett argued. “Breeze killed those invading Clan cats just last night!”

“I said QUIET!” Breeze bellowed. Her migraine shot pain through her entire head, but she pushed it back as well as she could. The arguing died to murmurs.

“We didn’t come to invade your Allegiance. I was wrongly exiled for the murder of my leader, which is the same story Rowan told me,” she went on, adding sharpness to every word. “I wasn’t planning on coming to your Allegiance. That is, not until Winter came to find us. She told us one of you framed Rowan and you were planning to do it again. Because Rowan is merciful, he and I made a deal: he’d kill the cat that exiled me - Oakstar - if I went to the Allegiance and joined so I could warn the next cat who would be attacked.”

“But why the lie?” Jett whispered. “Why did you have to say Sorrel was heir to Thorn?”

Breeze shrugged. “One, so we could get in. Two, this cat was targeting the heirs because if they were all dead, Thorn included, she could take over and finally lead the Allegiance the way she wanted to all along.”

Gazes slowly crept towards Astrid as cats began to realize.

“Who would do that?” Hawthorn said blankly. Breeze blinked at him.

“It seems like you already know.”

Astrid hissed. “Do you hear this madness!” she laughed harshly. “These rogues, no, these Clan cats are accusing me of a crime I’d never commit.”

Breeze’s gaze sharpened. Maybe she was one afraid of this ominous gray she-cat, but there was nothing to fear anymore. Not after she’d killed Rowan, not when she was so vulnerable. All Breeze had left was this stupid accusation. She refused to be afraid of her, or anything, at the moment. Breeze took a step forward.

“I’m. Not. Finished.”

Astrid leaned her head back ever so slightly in surprise, but it was enough to keep Breeze going.

“Rowan and Winter both told me that Rowan’s exile was wrongful. I saw over my days here that some of you feel the same way.” Breeze skimmed her gaze over to Thorn, who was staring at his paws. “But who would frame him for exile? Certainly someone didn’t want to kill Rowan unless they had to, because they were close. Family, probably.” Breeze shrugged. “Anyway, when Winter came to us she had startling news: someone was targeting Jasmine. Now I don’t have the proof for this, but I believe my friend does.” Breeze looked at Winter, and the white she-cat stepped towards her nervously.

“Do you remember when Thorn was attacked in the night last year, and the rumor spread that it was Jasmine?” Winter asked. No one answered. “Or when Jasmine gave Thorn the wrong berries for his cough, which got him sick? It seemed like Jasmine was trying to kill Thorn. Much like her brother apparently tried to.”

Jasmine was staring at Winter with an open mouth. For once, she didn’t protest.

“Then Jasmine almost slipped down the gorge a month ago, and I knew Jasmine wasn’t being framed anymore. She was a target,” Winter finished grimly.

“When Sorrel and I came into camp for the first time, Sorrel played the role of heir to give Astrid a second heir to worry about,” Breeze explained. “That way, we’d have time to warn Jasmine about what her mother was planning in time for Astrid to come up with a plan to get rid of the both of them.”

“But Astrid never did anything,” Kestrel protested. His gaze flickered to Rowan’s body. “Well, nothing that fits the story.”

“I’m getting to that,” Breeze snarled. “Anyway, last night, when Astrid came into the den to ‘dull my pain’, it wasn’t from when I passed out. She bashed my head against a rock when I was dazed and gave me poppy seeds to help me sleep. Because Astrid is the only one here knowledgable of medicine allegedly due to her rogue past,” Breeze added, hoping the cats would catch on. “While I was left alone with a splitting headache, Sorrel began to cough. Just moment ago.”

Sorrel’s eyes widened as she began to understand what happened. Breeze took in a deep breath.

“Astrid was feeding her deadly nightshade. Those berries don’t cure coughs. They kill a cat within minutes,” Breeze explained. She saw one of the stray berries Sorrel had spit up and rolled in in front of her before it stopped in front of Astrid.

“On top of that, when Rowan saved Sorrel, Astrid killed him before he had the chance to tell everyone the truth that I’m telling you now. Thorn was attempted poisoned twice, and if Rowan hadn’t come in Sorrel would have died,” Breeze explained grimly. “The only cat knowledgeable of medicine, the only cat who wants to take over the Allegiance can only be one cat. And that cat is Astrid.”

The Allegiance went dead silent for a minute.

Every gaze was on Astrid, and the gray she-cat only smiled.

“Is is true?” Jasmine whispered in horror, taking a swift step towards her mother. Thorn appeared at his daughter’s side, pressing up against her protectively.

“You wouldn't,” he whispered, looking doubtful. “Would you?”

Astrid blinked. “You know I wouldn’t. There’s no proof.”

“There’s one way to get proof.”

Every head turned to the cat who hadn’t spoken, the cat who remained uncharacteristically calm the whole accusation. Breeze looked up to see Screech push Jasmine and Thorn out of the way and face Astrid sternly.

Screech’s putrid yellow eyes glanced down at the single nightshade berry, then back up at Astrid. “Bring me the other berries,” she commanded. Ripple disappeared for a moment before reappearing, rolling two small, black berries towards Screech. The large brown she-cat rolled them into a pile at Astrid’s paws before stepping back.

Screech looked at Breeze for a heartbeat, and nodded at her. Breeze’s heart leapt.

“Okay, Astrid,” the brown she-cat growled. “If you’re innocent, you can prove that these berries are not poisonous.”

Astrid laughed once. “And how would I do that?”

Screech’s head tipped to the side. “Eat them.”

Astrid froze. The Allegiance cats began to murmur again. The plan settled in Breeze’s brain, and she wanted to explode. It was absolutely genius.

Astrid sniffed and took a step away from the berries. “I don’t see what it will prove. I don’t have a cough."

Screech nodded. “Exactly. If you’re telling the truth, they won’t do anything. If you’re everything Breeze and Winter claim you are...” Screech’s gaze swept the Allegiance. “... then we know the truth.”

Astrid’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t make me eat them,” she snapped. “I’m your superior and you have no right to attack me like this.”

Screech shrugged. “Fine,” she said simply. “If you don’t eat them, we’ll assume you’re a liar and kill you ourselves.”

Breeze drew her tail over Sorrel and stepped back as the crowd advanced in towards Astrid, growing angier. Claws unsheathed against the rocky forest ground, and fur bristled as the Allegiance cats finally saw the light.

“This isn’t our fight,” Breeze murmured, watching the crowd close in.

“You want your answer?” Astrid shrieked. “Fine!” The crowd was so close to her that Breeze barely saw her head swoop down and lap up the berries. Cats took a step away from her, watching in anticipation. Astrid’s head raised again in the next moment, and her eyes were triumphant. Breeze’s heart sank.

“You see?” Astrid exclaimed. “They’re not-”

She cut off in a lurching sound. Astrid leaned over like was was going to vomit, but nothing came out. Her eyes widened so that Breeze could almost see the whites in them, from the back of the crowd, and foam began to gather at her lip.

“She’s a liar!” Breeze heard Screech’s triumphant roar only before the Allegiance cats leapt towards Astrid with a unanimous battlecry, blocking the gray she-cat from Breeze’s view. Astrid’s screams echoed high into the treetops as Breeze looked at the Allegiance cats once more, fighting to kill Astrid before the berries did. Breeze let out a silent exhale.

We did it, she realized, eyes glazing as she noticed Rowan sprawled across an empty space in the clearing. We sacrificed, but we did it.

Did we lose too much?

Breeze tapped Sorrel’s spine with a sigh, and the two of them slipped out of camp unnoticed.

***

Breeze and Sorrel left Allegiance territory in complete silence. Breeze didn’t see the point in waiting out Astrid’s death. The screams didn’t last long, but they echoed in Breeze’s ear until her migraine left her. It took for what felt like hours, but it was gone eventually.

There was no point in staying any longer. In the Allegiance eyes, they had succeeded; they’d outed Astrid’s deeds and proved her guilty before avenging Rowan’s death. But in Breeze’s eyes, they had failed. They had lost Rowan, the reason they were dragged into everything in the first place. They had no one to take to attack Oakstar. They wouldn’t be going back to WindClan.

“Where are we going?” Sorrel whispered. They’d traveled the whole afternoon until the night fell and reached the outskirts of WindClan territory, so close to the border that Breeze could almost smell what she missed so much. The barn was on the hill not far behind her, and Breeze realized with a jolt that this was the place they had met Rowan.

“Right here,” Breeze whispered. She sat down, closed her eyes, and relished the breeze. Sorrel settled beside her.

“This is where we ran into Rowan,” she recalled, reading Breeze’s thoughts. Breeze nodded sadly, and they fell into silence.

“Six days,” Breeze whispered hoarsely after a moment. She opened her eyes again, and she could see Silverpelt glittering over her for the first time in a long time. Sorrel flicked an ear.

“Hm?”

“The next time the sun rises, it will have been six days since I was exiled. Since I met Rowan.”

“Why is six days important?”

Breeze shrugged and looked at her paws. “It’s not,” she confessed. “But when you have someone, you take it for granted. I try not to take others for granted. I really do. Because I spent so much of my life wishing I had Sundusk.”

Sorrel leaned in close to her, pelt brushing. Breeze glanced up at the night stars wistfully. She let out a cold, slow breath as she imaged her real father looking down at her for the first time in days. Was he disappointed in her?

I’m disappointed in me.

“I failed, Sorrel,” Breeze whispered, voice breaking. “I wasn’t going to care about anyone too much so when I lose them it wouldn’t hurt. It worked for a while. It worked with Swallowfur and Stormstripe. It didn’t hurt that bad. But I guess…” Breeze trailed off in a choking sound. She bowed her head, and the tears began to come again as she thought of Rowan.

“Sometimes… love is tough,” Sorrel explained softly, gazing at the stars alongside Breeze. “But you’ve pushed love from your life for so long that all you know is pain. If you see the better side in everyone, if you love others like they love you, then losing that one person isn’t so bad.”

Breeze sighed, and her chest heaved. “But… nobody cares about me. Not enough. Not enough to stand up for me during my exile.”

Sorrel turned her head so she was looking at her. “Breeze, Breezefeather, I could have stayed behind. I was forced to come with you, but I looked out the first night in the barn, when Rowan took you to Sundusk’s grave. I looked at WindClan territory, and I knew I could go back and be welcomed.”

Breeze cast her a sidelong glance. “Why didn’t you?”

Sorrel purred. “I didn’t know it then, but I was about to be part of something better than I could ever imagine. I was excited to be an apprentice and get to explore outside camp, but this is enough adventure to last me a lifetime. I can’t wait to tell Rainpaw and Cinderpaw what I did when I get back!” Then her voice lowered, and she grew serious. "But I stayed because I didn't want you to bear this exile alone."

Breeze purred, but it faltered. “I have no idea how you became so positive and determined,” she said warmly. “You’ve grown.”

Sorrel grinned. “In six days?” the kit shook her head. “Yeah, I’ve grown. My mother taught me a lot.”

Breeze shook her head, though flattered. “I haven’t taught you anything. I haven’t done anything right. I haven’t… I haven’t taught myself anything. I failed.”

Sorrel pressed up against her. “I know,” she said simply. “Sometimes you have to learn from other’s mistakes. It’s time you learn from your own.”

“How?”

“There are cats that care about you, Breeze.”

"…"

Sorrel took in a breath. “Winter cares about you. Thorn does, too. Rowan did. Your brothers care about you, and miss you.” Breeze looked down at the tortoiseshell gently, and Sorrel shuffled her paws.

“I care about you.”

Breeze laughed gently, remembering her argument with Sorrel only days prior in the exact spot. But Sorrel placed her paw on top of Breeze’s and looked at her with determination, one a six-moon-old kit should not have.

“You are not who you make yourself out to be,” she promised, looking at Breeze with kind blue eyes. “I have no doubt that you would have been the best mentor in all of WindClan.”

Breeze felt the beginnings of a smile twitched at her lips.

“Thorn’s been teaching you well, then?”

Sorrel gazed off into WindClan territory.

“He taught me about peace, a lot,” she recalled. “He’s not a fighter. Sometimes I wish we had really been kin.”

Breeze nodded. No wonder he and Astrid had such different views. They’re not so much different from Oakstar and I, only we both hate and hate and never stop.

Breeze glanced down at Sorrel and took in a deep breath of the autumn air. But maybe if I can learn to love someone again....

Breeze shook away the thought. We’re not going back, she reminded herself. We can’t. I failed Rowan, and I failed myself.

“Are we sleeping here?” Sorrel asked, gaping her jaws in a yawn. Breeze nodded.

“Yeah. Don’t you miss the stars?” she whispered. Sorrel smiled and nodded in agreement. Breeze stared up at the sky a moment longer before she prepared herself for sleep, but the thundering of paws shook the ground from somewhere in the distance.

“What’s that?” Sorrel whispered. Breeze’s fur rose. Her whiskers twitched as she saw a ground of cats stampeding towards her and Sorrel, shaded by the night sky and the tall grass. Breeze stepped in front of Sorrel instinctively and bared her teeth, but when the leading cat stepped out towards them and the moonlight hit her fur, Breeze exhaled in relief.

“Winter,” she murmured in greeting. Winter nodded as the rest of the Allegiance emerged behind her, looking determined. Breeze looked at every one of them in awe. “Why did you follow us?”

“Yeah,” Sorrel added. “I thought we had finished our job and left unnoticed.”

Winter looked almost proud of them, which was confusing to Breeze. “You did,” she explained. “But Rowan and I made a deal with you, didn’t we?”

Breeze’s head slowly rose. “Yes, but I failed, Winter. Rowan is dead because I didn’t warn Jasmine in time.”

Winter shook her head and Screech stepped forward, flanking the snowy she-cat.

“We owe a lot to you,” she explained, glancing over her shoulder at the rest of the Allegiance. “More cats would have died if you hadn’t brought Rowan back or told us about Astrid. And Allegiance cats always keep their promises.”

At her words, cats began to nod. Breeze felt like she was dreaming. “Really?” she whispered. Screech smiled. It was crooked, but it was a smile.

“I was wrong about you, kid,” she said, and Breeze closed her eyes at the familiar nickname. “But I was right to keep quiet about Sorrel. You got a good heart.”

Breeze laughed awkwardly. “I beg to differ.”

Grass stepped forward into the light, claws shining in the moonlight. “You said we were gonna take someone out?” he reminded the others.

Breeze raised her head and nodded. She had come so far, and now she was so close.

"His name is Oakstar. Leader of WindClan, and my stepfather. And I want him dead."

Chapter Fifteen

Paleberry paced back and forth in the frosty clearing of StarClan, and her ragged tail lashed with anger.

“Come on out!” she bellowed, not caring that her voice was breaking with age and disuse. “Show yourself, you cowards!”

The cream she-cat paused when a single cat emerged, one she had talked to many times. Paleberry growled and Pinestar merely dipped her head in greeting.

“They’re not here,” the former leader said simply. Paleberry’s whiskers twitched in disdain.

“Oh, so all my Clanmates are rotting in the Dark Forest?” she growled. “Pinestar, I am being humiliated by my Clan.”

Pinestar was checking her claws nonchalantly. “It’s what you deserved.”

Paleberry lurched up to Pinestar, eyes wild and fangs bared. “I misinterpreted one omen! Woe is me!” Paleberry dropped the mocking voice and stepped back lividly. “Living cats aren’t perfect. Neither are you, Pinestar.”

Pinestar’s long tail flicked dismissively. “That’s not my point. To have your Clanmates laugh at you for going crazy is one thing. I need you to focus on the real deal here.”

Paleberry snorted. “Right. Heatherdawn got killed by a mysterious Clan looking for my apprentice who went missing, came back, went missing again and never came back!”

Paleberry ended in a scream before slumping her shoulders, breathing heavily.

“Stormstripe is missing too,” Pinestar pointed out. “And that’s why you’re here, I’m assuming? You want to see if Swallowfur and Stormstripe are alive, no?”

Paleberry began to mutter, and Pinestar shook her head.

“It’s no use. Every since Breeze’s exile the cats arriving in StarClan are shaken or don’t show up,” she explained sadly. “Cloudpetal and I tracked down Finchstar, after ages. He refuses to talk about his death at all.”

Paleberry closed her eyes and let out a deep exhale. “But he’s here?” she whispered. Pinestar nodded.

“Heatherdawn showed up absolutely distraught and mortified,” she went on, “poor thing. It took her a whole night to show up here because she died so far from the Clan borders. I fear the worst of Swallowfur and Stormstripe, though. Stormstripe said he was going to follow Swallowfur, but neither of them came back or showed up here.”

Paleberry’s head fell, but just as it did someone burst through the star-tinged bushes. Paleberry’s eyes widened as she recognized the young tom, and then warmth filled them for the first time in a long time.

“Swallowfur!” Paleberry and Pinestar exclaimed simultaneously. Pinestar looked appalled and rather angry, but Paleberry was just happy to see her apprentice.

“I found StarClan! I’ve been traveling forever!” Swallowfur whispered in awe, then looked crestfallen as he remembered his fate.

“Swallowfur,” Paleberry whispered, nudging at the cream tom’s pelt. “There are stars in your fur.”

Swallowfur blinked and stepped back sadly. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m not coming back to WIndClan.”

Paleberry whirled to Pinestar, anger returning. Pinestar’s eyebrows rose.

“You don’t have to look at me like that,” she said, looking at Swallowfur sternly. “I didn't kill him, and I don't know what did. I’m more concerned about why a young tom left camp and died.”

Swallowfur’s head ducked down.

"How did... how did it happen?" Paleberry asked softly, running her thick tail along his back. Swallowfur shrugged.

"Dunno," he said dully. "It happened fast, in the dark. I think someone attacked me."

Paleberry and Pinestar exchanged a glance.

“What about Stormstripe?” Paleberry went on in exasperation. ”Is he alive?” Confusion flickered in Swallowfur’s bright eyes.

“Stormstripe? Wha-” Then realization set in, and the medicine apprentice looked horrified. “Did Stormstripe follow me?”

“Yes.” Pinestar narrowed her forest-green eyes. “Where were you going at night that made a grown warrior feel the need to follow you?”

Swallowfur hesitated, and Paleberry wished she could read her young apprentice’s mind. Then his face settled and hardened. A decision had been made, though his eyes were full of regrets.

“I was meeting Breezefeather.” he revealed. “She calls herself Breeze.”

Pinestar gasped and Paleberry took a step back.

“You were meeting her?” she snarled accusingly. “Like a forbidden secret meeting?”

“Oh, he broke the code, get over it,” Pinestar interrupted, shoving past the burly medicine cat and looking at Swallowfur eagerly. “Where is she?” she asked him. “Where did you find Breeze?”

Swallowfur’s jaw twitched. “She’s part of a group of cats called the Allegiance now,” he explained. “The same cats that attacked that patrol, the one Heatherdawn was on.”

“The patrol that was looking for you.” Paleberry’s eyes widened in realization. “That’s what you were doing there - you were meeting Breeze?”

“What did she talk to you about?” Pinestar asked anxiously. “Is she happy there? Does she have Sorrelkit, still? Is she planning on leaving?”

Swallowfur paused in thought. “Sorrel’s still with her. She made a deal with one of the cats, and most of it goes over my head but if she succeeded in warning this one cat she’d get a favor in turn.”

“What was that favor?” Paleberry snarled, feeling worry claw at her stomach. Her apprentice stared at her grimly.

“The Allegiance cats are going to kill Oakstar,” he explained darkly. Paleberry let out a defeated yowl and sunk to the ground with her paws covering her face. Pinestar waved her tail over top of Paleberry warningly.

“Get up. We don’t even know if Breeze succeeded in her half of the deal,” she pointed out. Swallowfur nodded, and Paleberry raised one paw.

“Last night, she sounded pretty certain she was going to go through with her half today,” he explained. “If she succeeded today, then who knows when they’ll attack.”

Paleberry whimpered, and Swallowfur sat down beside her.

“I tried to warn Breeze,” he whispered. “I really did. I told her to drop the Oakstar thing and come back with me, and talk it out with Paleberry. But she didn’t listen. She’s so bent on vengeance…”

Pinestar gave Paleberry a knowing glare, and Paleberry shoved herself to her paws.

“Breeze and Oakstar have had a feud since that kit was born,” the living cat retorted. “Maybe it’s best we let them fight it out themselves.”

“Paleberry, no,” Pinestar growled, eyes rounded and angry. “It’s the same case as Ashpoppy and Finchstar after Sundusk and Skypaw died. If Finchstar hadn’t died, their tensions would have rose so much that it would have affected the whole Clan.”

Swallowfur’s ears perked. “You’re saying Breeze and Oakstar’s fight will encompass all of WIndClan?”

Pinestar nodded grimly. “With the Allegiance fighting for Breeze… this could mean war if not properly dealt with.”

“Then how do we deal with it?” Paleberry asked, jerking her head at Swallowfur. When she realized her mistake, she flushed. “I mean, how do I?”

Pinestar only stared at her. A feather fluttered into the clearing, and Pinestar caught it on the pad of her paw.

“Do you recognize this, Paleberry?” she mused, shooting her gaze up and meeting Paleberry’s. The medicine cat nodded in embarrassment as she examined the feather. It was a blue-jay feather, tipped with white and had black stripes crossing brilliant cerulean.

“That’s the feather you sent me the first time,” she recalled. “The omen.”

“That you ignored,” Pinestar added in a retort. “I’m giving you a second chance. This time, if you ignore it, more cats are going to die."

Paleberry stepped back. “Cats are going to die?”

Pinestar nodded grimly. “It’s too late now. We’ve lost Finchstar, Heatherdawn, Swallowfur, and quite possibly Stormstripe. Cats are going to die soon, Paleberry, the innocent and the guilty. I can feel StarClan’s air grow thinner and the wind is picking up. There’s no question they will die, but who dies, and who lives, that is up to you.”

Then Pinestar’s black paw curled around the feather quickly, snapping it in half and crumbling it. Paleberry winced at stepped back at the narrowed emerald eyes.

“Do you understand, Paleberry?” she whispered. Paleberry nodded quickly.

“I - I think I understand,” she stammered. Then she was thrown back into the waking world, into the safety of her den.

Paleberry let out a slow exhale when she realized it was still the middle of the night and she was back to the safety of her rocky den, surrounded by the musky scent of  every herb she’d gathered. She glanced at Swallowfur’s empty den, now growing stale, and swallowed as she realized he’d never occupy it again. She forced her gaze away and looked out at the stars, when a tickle on her paws drew her attention downward.

Paleberry sucked in her breath and slowly lifted her paw. It was a feather, but not one of the brown and white ones that lined her nest. This was one she had seen before, one with crushed black and blue stripes.

It was Breeze’s feather.

Paleberry’s head raised in determination, but only a second later a shrill scream cut her off.

“WindClan!” Lionwhisker bellowed, thundering past her den. “Oakstar's been attacked!”

Chapter Sixteen

“So here’s the deal,” Breeze had told the Allegiance. “We go straight into the leader’s den from the back way. It’s a large stone den near the back. We’re going to try and only attack Oakstar. Don’t attack or kill anyone else unless you need to,” she added sternly. “They outnumber us.” The Allegiance cats nodded, eyes shining at the idea of battle. But we are more skilled than they are, Breeze reminded herself proudly.

Thorn flicked his tail and stood beside Breeze and Sorrel, ahead of the Allegiance cats.

“Thank you,” Breeze murmured to the golden tom as they began walking. “For doing this.”

Thorn turned towards her. His familiar yellow eyes were dull after watching his mate and son die, but as he looked at Sorrel, something sparked in them.

“Anything for my kin,” he whispered. Breeze smiled genuinely. “So are you going back once we kill Oakstar?” he asked, raking his gaze over the two of them. Breeze nodded, and Thorn smiled sadly.

“Well don’t forget to visit,” he murmured, touching his nose to Sorrel’s. “Friends are always welcome back home.”

Sorrel blinked back… tears, Breeze realized, as she pulled away from Thorn. They really connected, she realized.

Thorn nodded back at the Allegiance, and the cats followed their leader into the golden fields, now gray as leaf-fall was in full season. Breeze passed the familiar sights with a flash of nostalgia. She saw a blur of bright red out of the corner of her eye, and turned to see the barn that she had sheltered in nearly a week ago at the top of the slope. She smiled bittersweetly to herself, recalling Rowan one more time before placing a paw across the border.

As they crossed into WindClan territory, Breeze’s stomach tumbled over.

“Remember, the large brown tabby tom,” she reminded in a whisper. “He has eight lives. Take all of them.” The cats nodded absently, Screech looking especially ready to fight, and Thorn led the way with Breeze and Sorrel flanking him. Breeze relished the old sights and scents of her home and took in every landmark they passed.

Then they reached the gorse entrance to camp, the back way, close to Oakstar’s den, and Breeze’s heart stopped.

This is it.

“Here,” she whispered, glancing through the gorse barrier and cursing the darkness of night. “It’s night here.

Thorn flicked his tail. The signal. Breeze hesitated.

But she did not regret anything as pushed through the barrier with little effort and bounded past the other cats without a second glance. She raced to the Tallrock and up the little slope that led to Oakstar’s den. She felt Ripple bump her side before he entered, and she turned to face him.

“Jett, Jasmine and I are staying outside to make sure no one gets in,” he whispered. Breeze nodded sharply, genuinely thankful.

“Thank you,” she murmured as he took his place. The gray tom looked hesitant. “Anything else?” Ripple’s eyes gleamed.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Good luck!”

She ducked inside with a grin, and suddenly froze.

Horrible memories of Finchstar’s death suddenly hit her, she screeched and flexed her claws, unable to contain the throbbing pain swarming her head. Screech nudged her with her shoulder.

“You gonna be alright?” the brown she-cat mouthed. Breeze shook her head. Bile rose in her throat and she felt the urge to back out and never return, but she had already awoken Oakstar.

Fortunately, he was sleeping soundly and startled by the cats in his den. Screech bunched up her haunches to attack, but Breeze held out a tail to stop her. In the heartbeat of a moment, she noticed that Oakstar was sleeping alone. Perfect.

“Oakthorn,” she whispered, slitting her eyes. She had waited moons for this moment, where she held the power above her step-father.

The large tom blinked in confusion, but curled his muzzle. “Who goes there?” he barked.

“You know exactly who I am,” Breeze snarled, leaning in close. Oakstar’s eyes narrowed suddenly in recognition.

“Breezefeather,” he growled. “You’re a fool, coming back. You murdered our leader and stole Sorrelkit after being exiled.”

“We all know who killed Finchstar,” Breeze snapped, “and Swallowfur. You might as well say it, now that you’re the one about to die.”

Confusion flashed in his eyes, but before he could reply, Screech lashed out at him. Breeze couldn’t see what happened, but heard a gag before the tall shadow of Oakstar fell. There was a heavy breathing, then silence.

The yellow eyes opened again, and Oakstar scrambled to his paws.

“Remember us?” Screech purred, leaning towards the leader mockingly. “I see you’re alive again, Oakstar. Can’t wait until you fail to get up.”

“Swallowfur is dead?” he roared, ignoring Screech. Breeze raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” she growled. “You knew about us meeting, and you followed him one night and killed him. You also dragged Stormstipe along, so it would look like he was to blame. But here’s a bit of news for you-”

Breeze leaned down until she was a whisker away from his ear. “-I know a killer when I see one.”

She glanced at Screech coldly. The rest of the Allegiance cats were beginning to surround Oakstar, who locked gazes with Breeze. He looked terrified, and Breeze hardened her stare.

“Finish it,” she whispered.

Breeze watched with little emotion as Screech, Thorn, Grass - all the cats she’d grown to know - launched themselves at Oakstar. He gave a roar, but it had no liveliness. All Breeze saw was darkness, but she heard pure agony.

Breeze blinked her icy eyes as the light faded from Oakstar’s yellow eyes. The Allegiance cats looked to Breeze hesitantly, in case she had changed her mind.

“Keep going!” she snapped. The Allegiance turned back with a shrug, and Oakstar screamed again.

Seven lives left.

Tick, tock.

Oakstar made an odd gurgling noise. Breeze saw his back rise up in an attempt to fight, but he fell back down immediately and did not rise again.

Six lives left.

Tick, tock.

Breeze felt a liquid ooze out from the snarling Allegiance cats. She didn’t move her paws from the ground as they were coated with her stepfather’s blood.

Five lives left.

Tick, tock.

Oakstar didn’t even fight this time. His eyes lit up, but he was panting in utter exhaustion. Hawkthorn’s powerful claws sliced through the air, and Oakstar went still again.

Four lives left.

Tick, tock.

Breeze wasn’t paying full attention again until she heard Kestrel squeal and jump back, holding a paw to his chest. Breeze’s eyes gleamed in interest. Oakstar must have managed to get in a blow, she realized, watching the large tom twitch and grow still again. Good for him.

Three lives.

Tick, Tock.

Oakstar was fighting with more liveliness now, fueled by his score on Kestrel. Breeze flicked her ear when she heard muffled arguing behind her; the Clan must have woken up and realized someone was attacking Oakstar.

Two lives.

Tick, tock.

Oakstar’s roars of defiance had faded to grunts of effort as he fought just to stay alive. Now you know how Sundusk felt, Breeze thought in satisfaction, watching him writhe and grow still again. Now I know how you felt.

One.

Tick, tock.

“Stop,” she commanded, rising to her paws.

The Allegiance cats stepped back. Blood dripped from their maws, yet their eyes gleamed. Oakstar was panting heavily as a path formed so he was staring straight at Breeze.

Breeze didn’t admit it, but it was hard to look at him. One of Oakstar’s eyes was swollen shut, and the other was bloodshot and bruised. His ears were torn to nearly nothing, and his brownish fur was completely drenched in his own blood. Breeze had never imagined the rough tom looking so vulnerable before.

“He’s on his last life,” Breeze told them coldly. Kestrel jumped forward, but Breeze stopped him.

“Let him suffer,” she snapped. “He doesn’t deserve a mercy death.”

“How does it feel,” Oakstar panted to Breeze suddenly. His voice was raspy between gasps, “to murder two leaders? How does it feel to know you’re a murderer? I tried to save you, but…”

“Save me?” she snarled, leaning down so she was whisker-lengths away from his sliced muzzle. “You destroyed me. And now the tables have turned, father.”

Breeze used the word as a scorn, and Oakstar bristled with rage as he realized it.

“Your father,” he gasped between broken heaves. “Sundusk. Is this why you’re doing this?’

“I’m doing this for a lot of reasons,” Breeze said briskly, licking the blood from her paw. She moved to the left slightly, so the moonlight hit her fur and so that Oakstar could see her when he died. “But I think a cat I once knew summed it up pretty well: time goes on, and history repeats itself. It never stops.”

Breeze recited Finchstar’s words form the very last time she’d been in the den. She leaned in close to Oakstar’s destroyed ears, and whispered the final words to him.

“Tick, tock.”

Oakstar mustered up just enough energy to stare at her with a final glare of what Breeze perceived as ultimate, absolute hatred.

Then his head hit the ground, and he went limp.

Zero.

There was an odd, quiet sensation that left Breeze at ease. Finally, she could come home. Breeze stepped away from Oakstar’s body, and somehow her paws felt lighter. Sorrel, who had stayed near the corner of the den, emerged with awe-wide eyes.

“You did it,” she whispered. Breeze laughed and ndoded, not quite beleiving it herself. Sorrel bounded up to her. Breeze accepted the embrace happily. “You did it!”

Their joy did not last for long.

“Breeze! Thorn!” Jett called. Breeze’s gaze snapped up and she saw the small black she-cat fighting off both Goosewing and Nettlestorm at once, by the entrance. “They’re looking for a fight!”

Thorn turned away from Oakstar and looked at Breeze.

“Well?” he asked her. “Should we fight?”

Breeze shook her head firmly. “Fight if you must on your way out, but don’t kill. I need you to take the Allegiance and leave.”

Thorn nodded sharply, and Winter appeared at his side. Breeze and Sorrel softened at the face of their friend.

“Thank you both,” Breeze murmured. “We couldn’t have done any of this without you."

Winter looked moved to say something, but decided against it and rushed up and pressed her nose to Breeze, then Sorrel’s. Then she followed the other Allegiance cats out of the den, except one.

“Screech?” Breeze turned to the brown she-cat, who was staring at the now-empty entrance solemnly. “Are you leaving?”

“Not until I assure you’re safe,” she growled. Breeze’s brows drew together.

“What do you mean?” she asked, following her gaze. “I’m-”

She stopped when she saw the bristling gray figure standing at the entrance.  

Ashpoppy was slicked with blood  - whose blood, that was beyond Breeze - and looked more alive than Breeze had ever seen her. Ashpoppy’s eyes landed on Oakstar’s limp body, and she froze.

“He’s dead?” she whispered, voice trembling. Ashpoppy paused, and suddenly began to nod grimly.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

There was no reply. Ashpoppy’s gaze suddenly locked on Breeze.

“Breezefeather.” It wasn’t even a question. Sorrel shied away from her quickly. Breeze jutted out her jaw.

“I regret nothing,” she growled. “Oakstar deserved what he got.”

Her mother tipped her head to the side. There was an air about her that seemed different. She didn’t seem distraught over Oakstar’s death, more disappointed in Breeze than anything. “Then you made a selfish decision.”

“Like your decision to become Oakstar’s mate wasn’t selfish!” Breeze spat.  Suddenly a burst of emotions spurred out, overwhelming her greatly. “You chose him because you wanted to replace Sundusk as fast as possible! He never loved us, and you never loved… him.”

Ashpoppy stepped back and narrowed her eyes. “That’s not-”

“You have no right to say you loved him!” Breeze went on, ignoring her mother’s protest. Her every thought in the past few days caught up with her, and they left her mouth before she could think. “Or me! I was exiled for a murder I didn’t commit and you made no stand!”

“Sometimes you have to make sacrifices,” Ashpoppy whispered, voice trembling so badly she was barely audible.

“Sacrifices for what?” Breeze roared. Moons of enragement finally caught up to her as she faced her mother. “Choosing your second mate you had no feelings for over your daughter?”

“No,” Ashpoppy murmured. She stood, eyes blazing. “You’re right, Breezefeather. I was selfish. I chose power, and I chose vengeance over you. But I’m not backing down on that. It’s gone too far.”

Breeze stopped and stepped back.

“What does that mean?” she stammered. Ashpoppy sighed and unsheathed her claws.

“I’m sorry I have to do this Breeze, but I don’t have a choice,” she meowed simply. She stalked up to her daughter and Screech bristled. Larchfall and Sandhawk slunk into the den, and Sorrel hissed at the sight of her violent father.

“I should have told you this a long time ago,” Ashpoppy went on, flexing her claws. Then she paused and flashed an eerie, uncharacteristic smile. Breeze wasn't even sure if the cat she was looking at was her shy, compassionate mother.

“I killed Finchstar.”

Chapter Seventeen

No.

Breeze’s mouth went dry.

But when she looked in Ashpoppy’s eyes, the clear blue eyes that had defined gentle, and caring, they said yes.

Ashpoppy looked afraid. Breeze had never seen a cat look so confident with so much fear in their eyes. A cat who had killed her leader.

Why?

Breeze’s head was spinning as that one thought reverberated. Why, why why? Something inside her shattered. Moons of vengeance, suffering, and exile, spent for nothing.

“Why?” she finally managed to rasp. Ashpoppy shrugged and sat down in front of her, signaling Larchfall and Sandhawk back.

“Why do you think?” she growled. “If you think I ever forgave that flea-bag for murdering my mate, you’re wrong.” Hatred flashed in Ashpoppy’s eyes, and Breeze could practically see memories of Sundusk and Finchstar replaying in her mind.

“Finchstar never apologized. Not to anyone. His idea of an apology was pretending that it never happened.”

Hurt flashed in Ashpoppy’s eyes, and it took all the energy Breeze could muster to not pity her. The gray she-cat took in a rattling breath. “Moons of vengeance built up, and I did the same thing you did to Oakstar: I killed him. I didn’t want to take fault for it, of course, and I assumed either the Clan would blame Oakstar or Oakstar would blame you. In either one of those, I was going to lose family, but I could bear that humiliation again. Oakstar unknowingly carried out most of my plan. His hatred for you ran so deep that he was blinded by it that he exiled you without question.”

“So he actually believed I killed Finchstar?” Breeze whispered, eyes widening. Ashpoppy responded only with a crazed smile. “And what about Swallowfur? You killed him too?”

“I saw him sneaking out every other night and assumed he was meeting you,” Ashpoppy muttered, now only staring at her paws. “I found a tuft of hair and placed it there for Oakstar to look guilty. Before long, Swallowfur would meet Finchstar in StarClan and the dreaded leader would tell him the real truth. Killing him was the only way out.”

“And Stormstipe followed you,” Breeze finished in a whisper.

Ashpoppy wasn’t done. She looked frantic and in a panic now, like she hadn’t wanted to tell Breeze anything but had gone too far. “When we fought your rogue group, Heatherdawn didn’t have to die. But apparently, flinging yourself away from the battle does marvels to those who wrong you.”

“You’re crazy,” Breeze rasped.

“Only as crazy as you,” Ashpoppy insisted. If Breeze looked close enough, she could see her mother trembling. “And now I am the leader of WindClan. And you….” she paused and gave her daughter and up and down look, “... you can go back to being the rogue you will always be.”

Breeze bristled and leapt. Larchfall, Ashpoppy, and Sandhawk all jumped forward in battle. Screech was expecting the attack and ran for Sandhawk and Larchfall, with Sorrel close behind.

Ashpoppy met her daughter mid-air, and the two she-cats collided. Breeze landed on top, but Ashpoppy squirmed out from underneath her, slicker than a snake, and barreled into Breeze’s flank.

Breeze fell over backwards, winded, and struggled to get to her paws. In the same moment, Ashpoppy landed on top of her and held her claws to her throat. Breeze’s breath quickened as she looked up at her mother. Her beautiful blue eyes were staring down at her, and they were full with tears and absolute terror. But everything else about her was stiff and certain. Breeze sucked in a breath.

She is going to kill me.

I’ll have done all that to be killed… by my mother?

...Never.

“I’m sorry that all of these misfortunes cursed you with,” the gray she-cat whispered, looking as if she meant it, “but sacrifices had to be made, regardless of who they required. You have to understand, I’m doing this for Sundusk. I did everything for Sundusk.”

Breeze’s eyes widened. “Finchstar is dead,” she rasped. “Why are you going after me?”

“Because if I let you go alive, you’re going to kill me like you killed Oakstar.” Ashpoppy was looking down at Breeze with wide blue eyes, “I can’t risk that chance, Breezefeather. I’m sorry.”

Breeze gritted her jaws together and ignored her mother’s wide, fearful expression. “You’re going to kill you daughter?” she spat. “that’s cold.”

Ashpoppy’s eyes narrowed. Breeze had never seen a cat look so hesitant, so unsure. “No,” she replied, her tone slicked with forced venom. “They won’t know that. To them, I killed the rogue who attacked Oakstar.”

“No,” Breeze growled. “You’re not killing anyone else.”

Then, before Ashpoppy could comprehend, Breeze’s head shot up and her teeth drilled into Ashpoppy’s neck. Her mother gave a horrible screech and tried to scramble backwards, but Breeze held on and jerked her head down. Breeze’s gaze clouded and began to go fuzzy.

She could hear faint fighting outside, between the Allegiance cats and the Clan cats. And at that moment, Breeze didn’t realize whose side she was truly on. Instead she gazed into the eyes of her mother, full of an unnatural hatred. Breeze felt adrenaline pick up.

You’re the reason I was exiled.

You’re the reason so many innocent cats died.

You’re the reason I’m a monster, just like you.

Asdhpoppy’s blue eyes gazed up at Breeze, dumbfounded. For a moment Breeze was staring into the eyes of her mother, the one who raised her and loved her with all her heart. But in the next moment that blue gaze had clouded over.

Ashpoppy fell to the ground. Breeze got to her paws and turned. Ashpoppy was hacking and heaving for breath, weakened by the puncture at the base of her neck.

“Well?” she rasped, looking up at Breeze from a miserable crouch. “You made it this far. Why don’t you kill me? What have I ever done to deserve to live?”

Breeze stepped back. Ashpoppy was blinking back tears, perhaps imagining Sundusk and Finchstar’s deaths again. Adrenaline had kept her going during the attack, but now she just looked defeated.

“You were my mother,” Breeze said solemnly. “And I don’t know what was fake or real anymore, but I know that there was one time when you really did try your best.”

Ashpoppy looked up at Breeze. The silver and white she-cat wasn’t done.

“I sentence you to exile,” she said, raising her chin as she recalled Oakstar’s words from many days before. “Get out of WindClan while you can. And if you come back, you will die.”

Ashpoppy stared up at Breeze with her large blue eyes, and Breeze was thrown back into her moments as a kit. Her eyes had never changed, not even when they stared at Briartuft’s mate in jealousy or when she had announced to Breeze that she had killed Finchstar. She had never been evil.

And that was why Breeze was sparing her.

“Can I say goodbye?” the former deputy - leader - whispered, voice breaking.

“No.” Breeze flicked her tail dismissively. “You’ve done enough damage as it is.”

Ashpoppy shakily got to her paws, and Breeze flinched when her mother’s nose reached out to touch hers. Ashpoppy blinked sadly and began to leave the den that had seen so much death.

“If you see them, in StarClan, tell Finchstar and Sundusk I’m sorry,” she said as her flank grazed the den entrance.

Breeze stiffened. “Tell them yourself.”

She looked at Ashpoppy long enough to see her mother smile, just a little bit. “The stars know I’m not going where they are.” Then her mother fled out of the entrance, squeezed through the exit unnoticed, and ran until she was no longer visible.

Breeze was appalled by the silence. She hadn’t even noticed it.  

The other cats had stopped fighting. Larchfall and Screech were both on the ground, dead as quick as their desire to run into battle. Breeze tried to locate Sandhawk in a brief panic that he’d attack her, but she turned around as a body hit the ground. Breeze stared in awe as Sorrel stood above her father’s body, looking fierce. Like a warrior.

Sorrel raised her head from her father. Breeze admired the cat she had grown into- she was six moons old, but had grown so much. One thing hadn’t changed: the scars she was bound to keep forever.  And now Sandhawk could never hurt her again.

“Did you do that yourself?” Breeze asked, noticing how lost her voice was as she nodded at Sandhawk's body.

Sorrel shook her head. “Screech weakened him.”

Breeze huffed in understanding before numbly padding over to the brown she-cat, who lay splayed on her side. Her yellow eyes were open wide and her claws unsheathed. She’d fought off two cats to protect Breeze and Sorrel with her life. Breeze let out a slow exhale and closed Screech’s eyes gently.

“She was a fighter,” Breeze told Sorrel gently. “And I am eternally thankful for that.”

A silence passed between the two. They were the only cats left alive in the den, and it was an oddly familiar feeling. Sorrel gave a relieved exhale.

“We can come home now,” she breathed. Breeze felt a similar, warming sensation, but below it all was numbness in her heart.

“I killed an innocent cat,” she rasped, staring at her paws. Sorrel draped her orange and gray tail over Breeze’s back comfortingly.

“Killer or not, Oakstar wasn’t a good cat,” she murmured. “None of us are really good cats, deep down. None of us. But we're not all bad, either.”

Breeze stared outside the den, past the camp, as the apprentice echoed her words.

“You’re right,” she agreed in a murmur. “Hey, why don’t you go out and start to tell the Clan what happened?”

Sorrel glanced up at her questionably. “How much?”

Breeze flicked her tail and gazed outside in determination. “Everything. The truth about my exile, The Allegiance, Ashpoppy’s revelation, where she went. Everything,” she finished quietly. Sorrel blinked.

“What about you?” she asked, eyes wide. “You’re gonna come out and help me tell the story, right?”

“Yeah.” Breeze swallowed and stared at her paws in embarrassment. “But first I’m going to, uh… I’m gonna apologize. To Oakstar.”

Sorrel broke into a grin.

“See, you’re not bad,” she purred, reaching up and licking Breeze’s chin. “I can’t wait for you to be my mentor.”

“Ditto, Sorrelpaw,” Breeze said with a grin. Sorrel looked back at her once, smiling so broadly Breeze thought she would burst.

Then she left Breeze completely alone, faced with bodies that were warm and colding alike. She made her way numbly to the largest one, who never even got the chance to leave his nest. She swallowed a lump in her throat before sitting down in the pool of blood and staring into the disfigured face of her stepfather.

“I’m-”

No. Breeze closed her eyes and winced. She couldn’t talk to him like he was dead. That was weird, and it felt chilling.

“Hey, Oakstar,” she managed to say in a chipper voice, opening her eyes and focusing on his back instead of his face. “I never uh, I never congratulated you for becoming leader. Pretty great, huh?”

A leaf-fall chill entered the den, and Breeze shivered. She got no response.

“Anyway, I was kind of a sucky daughter, huh?” she chuckled awkwardly. “We both made some mistakes, and maybe you made more than me, but there was an effort I could have made, you know?”

Silence. Breeze cleared her throat.

“You didn’t have to exile me. That kind of sucked. But hey, it was probably worse of me to order your death. That was pretty crappy of me. So.”

Breeze wasn’t used to having a one-sided conversation. Her fur prickled with unease.

“I don’t know if you ever wanted a daughter. I don’t think you did. A daughter is someone you can live without. But I really, really wanted a dad. I got one, eventually, and it wasn’t you or Sundusk,” she went on, beginning to feel a tremble in her voice. “You weren’t a good cat. You were innocent, but I can’t excuse your actions. But my actions in return weren’t-”

Breeze paused, thinking about her wording.  

“I guess what I’m trying to say-”

She coughed in frustration.

“What I need to say is-”

Breeze stared down at Oakstar and heaved a long sigh. Oh, why can’t I just apologize to you?

She closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Breeze exclaimed, lashing her tail and imagining Oakstar was there glaring at her.

“I’m really, really sorry.”

Then Breeze closed her eyes and rested her chin on Oakstar’s bloodied flank. And strangely enough, something about her felt at peace.

She didn’t notice the pale cream shape appear at the entrance to the den, and she didn’t notice the amber eyes land on her.

She didn’t hear the claws unsheathe against the stone ground, and she didn’t see the cat pad up behind her stealthily.

Then the cat leapt straight onto Breeze, grabbing onto her flank and pulling her away from Oakstar.

Breeze screeched and toppled over before she realized what was happening. Her heart skipped. Above her gleamed the grim eyes of Paleberry.

“I’m sorry,” she heard the old medicine cat murmur, “but Pinestar told me to do this because I screwed up the first time. I can’t let my Clan fear you.”

Breeze remembered Swallowfur’s words the night of his death.

She knows something, Breeze. She keeps talking about the balances of evil, chaos and shades of gray - stuff I don’t understand. But I think I need to take you back to WindClan. For my mentor’s safety and for all of WindClan. I understand that much.

She’s receiving omens that you’re going to destroy WindClan with your anger.

You’re a threat, Breeze.

“No, wait!” Breeze stammered, breathing heavy under the medicine cat’s heavy and crazed glare. A horrible, funny feeling twisted in her belly. “Everything has changed! I’m not going to-”

“I’m really sorry,” Paleberry whispered. Breeze tried to lurch up to explain herself, but a large paw held her down.

Suddenly there was a burning fire scorched across Breeze’s neck. She flailed back and screamed until it hissed down to inaudible gurgling. Paleberry sheathed her claws with a rattled breath and closed her eyes.

Breeze ran quickly out of energy and lay still, breathing heavily and feel air tickle her open wound. Paleberry stepped away from her, eyes opening and shining with pity.

“This is all my fault,” the medicine cat whispered. “Oh, I’ve caused so many deaths.”

Breeze lacked the energy to ask her what she meant, she flipped over to her belly, arching her back in pain and flexing her claws on the cold stone.

Paleberry could hardly stand to look at her. The cream she-cat turned and left the den, leaving behind some soft of feather. Breeze didn’t care.

It hurt. It felt like a million claws ripping through her at once. Breeze knew what was happening. She didn’t scream, or cry out in pain.

She closed her eyes and lay back.

At this point, what was better, seeing her brothers’ disappointed faces or seeing Sundusk’s? Would she live with her wrongful killing or die with it? Who would she rather see again, her Clan of betrayals or Rowan?

Rowan.

She would always choose Rowan.

And she’d be leaving behind Sorrel, but Sorrel always deserved the chance at Clan life that Breeze never even had.

And so no, it didn’t hurt as much when she thought of those things. The things she'd learned to love, despite who she might have been a week ago.

Breeze let out a final, drawn-out sigh.

Tick tock.

Finally, she was free.

tick..

Epilogue

WindClan made five graves that night.

The first was for none other than Oakstar. The accused, the angry, and the ultimately innocent. He was buried with somber respect and had perhaps the most cats speak of him. He was buried next to the other fallen cats, right outside camp.

Next to Oakstar was his former apprentice, Larchfall. Larchfall’s grave was near Heatherdawn, his sister, also lost just days before. He had a lashing attitude and a fierce loyalty to his leader, one that followed him to the grave.

Sandhawk was next. Not many cats had spoken of him, except his closest friends. Icefern had spat on the dirt he lay under, when she thought no one was looking. Most of the cats saw, and most of them silently cheered for her. His daughter did not even look at him, which was rather good riddance.

One rogue had died and not been retrieved. It was a molly, a large brown she-cat that was nearly the size of Oakstar. She was terrifying to look at, with a large, ugly scar crossing down her face. Her claws were unsheathed, and her bottom fangs were sticking out in a snarl, but her eyes were closed. She was buried without words, far from the others. Only one had mourned her, a small dilute tortoiseshell.

And the final grave was occupied by none other than Breeze herself. The Clan had conflicted views on her after the story came out - she’d killed Oakstar, and yet she’d rid them of the real danger before she’d mysteriously passed away due to wounds allegedly given by Ashpoppy. Cats just stayed quiet, which gave Breeze few visits - an awkward goodbye from her brothers, and a bemoaning speech from Sorrel. But after that she was left alone, a silent grave that gave an equal silence to Paleberry’s peace of mind.

Breeze had one more visitor, the night she died. Paleberry sat above where her head rested, facing towards the barn. Her fur fluffed up eerily, but she stayed vigil beside the cat she’d killed with her own two claws. Paleberry closed her eyes and shivered. She was a medicine cat. It was her job to save lives, not destroy them. But here she was.

“Briartuft.”

Paleberry sensed her sister’s footsteps on the crisp grass without opening her eyes or turning around.

Briartuft paused before sitting down, large figure disrupting the grass. “Why are you here?” the calico asked softly. “You’re going to freeze to death. Come on back to camp. We need you.”

Paleberry didn’t answer her. Instead she opened her eyes and stared at Breeze’s grave, dirt still unsettled and debris rising into the breezy air.

“I am overcome with guilt,” she whispered, not moving her gaze. “I’ve done so many things wrong, Briartuft. What’s a medicine cat who can’t interpret?”

Briartuft blinked at her with nothing but pity in her dull green eyes. The sisters sat together in silence, and Silverpelt gleamed coldly above them.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Briartuft mused after a long moment of silence. Paleberry’s head fell to her chest. “It wasn’t Ashpoppy that killed Breeze. Right?”

Paleberry looked at her paws. Numbly, she nodded. Briartuft let out a quick exhale, and wisps of warm air escaped her nose.

“Why?” she whispered. “If Breeze hadn’t gotten rid of Ashpoppy, who knows what that deputy could have done.”

“Ashpoppy destroyed the Clan whens she killed Finchstar,” Paleberry growled, claws tearing at the grass. “Pinestar came to me, a few moons ago. When Breeze first earned her warrior name.”

Briartuft nodded her sister on.

“She sent me a jay feather, drifting away from me in the breeze. I didn’t think much of it, maybe that Breeze had an important destiny. So I began watching her, thinking it was nothing,” Paleberry sighed, suppressing a shiver. “I was wrong. I wasn’t in camp when she was exiled, or when Ashpoppy killed Finchstar. That’s when Pinestar came to me and said I failed, I should have recognized that the omen signified exile.”

Briartuft scooted towards her sister, draping her thick tail over her shoulders. “We all make mistakes,” she reassured. Paleberry shrugged her tail off.

“That’s what I told Pinestar!” she exclaimed. “But she said I was too late, and that if I didn’t find Breeze, she would let vengeance overcome her and do unspeakable things to our Clan.”

Briartuft nodded. “Oakstar’s death?” she guessed.

“When Swallowfur died, he visited me too,” Paleberry went on, growing quite distraught. “He said he found Breeze, and she wanted to kill Oakstar. And we all thought Breeze had killed Finchstar, really and truly, and she just wanted to take the blame out on her stepfather. Pinestar told me to kill Breeze before she killed Oakstar. When I awoke, last night, I realized it was too late. I came in the den, and Oakstar was dead.”

Briartuft’s whiskers twitched in surprise. “You didn’t hear about Ashpoppy’s betrayal?”

“No!” Paleberry wailed, sinking lower to the ground. “I had just woken up thinking Breeze was going to kill innocent cats and when I saw Oakstar dead, I was just so… angry. I failed twice, and I figured keeping her alive would just cause Pinestar to keep sending me omens about Breeze destroying WindClan.”

Briartuft’s gaze flickered to the grave. “You killed her out of rage?” she guessed.

Paleberry sighed heavily. “It was a terrible mistake,” she rasped. “But Breeze has caused so many deaths. Heatherdawn, Stormstripe, Swallowfur, Sandhawk, Larchfall, Oakstar… the list could keep going. And I wasn’t going to let her do that. She’s like Ashpoppy. When she sets her path on vengeance, it doesn’t end well.”

“I’ve turned my rage on Breeze once, as well.”

“You didn’t do what I did.”

Briartuft was still staring at her. “Right. You killed her,” she whispered. “She wasn’t a good cat, Paleberry. But no cat deserves to die.”

“Oakstar didn’t deserve to die. Neither did my apprentice.”

“You must learn to grow from your mistakes, and the mistakes others make,” Briartuft said curtly, rising to her paws. “Come on, you're going to freeze. We need a medicine cat now, killer or not.”

Paleberry was still staring at Breeze’s grave, and Briartuft sighed.

“Paleberry, let’s go,” she said,more forceful this time. “You’ve done enough, and this cat has suffered. Let her rest.”

*** six and a half moons later ***

“And what are these?” Paleberry asked gently, pointing her paw at a cluster of yellow flowers. Pearpaw, the small brown tabby, narrowed her eyes at them.

“I’ve smelled these before,” she said in concentration. Paleberry nodded her on. Pearpaw’s head shot up in an instant, and Paleberry chuckled. “Tansy!” her apprentice squeaked.

Paleberry purred. “Very good,” she praised, and Pearpaw’s head shot up proudly.

Six and a half moons had passed since Breeze’s death. Cherrydapple’s kits had been apprentice recently, and the Clan had a silent exhale when Pearpaw chose the path of a medicine cat. Paleberry, who was older, was slightly insulted but gracious to have another apprentice after Swallowfur’s incident.

Speaking of demises, the three kits - Bluepaw, Pearpaw, and Finchpaw, had all been a ray of light after their father’s death. They quite reminded Paleberry of a similar certain trio of siblings.

Goldenpaw, Yellowpaw, Emberpaw, and Poppypaw had all become apprentices, and were nearing warriorship as well. Cinderpaw and Rainpaw became Cinderfrost and Rainwillow. They were a sigh of relief to the Clan, too, after losing so many warriors.

And there was one more apprentice.

“May all cats old enough to run the moor gather under Tallrock for a Clan meeting!”

Paleberry followed Pearpaw out of the medicine den, whiskers twitching as the Clan began to gather around Tallrock.

Sorrelpaw stood outside the den that had seen so much death, so much loss. But now she was smiling. Her mentor Runninghare was sitting beside her, smiling gently at how excited she was. Moons had passed since the return, and Sorrel had rejoined her Clan’s ranks as Sorrelpaw.

And now she would be even more. Briartuft, now Briarstar, the new chosen leader of WindClan, stood on her rock proudly. Although she was old, she would make a wise and great leader. Paleberry smiled from the base of the rock at her sister, who caught her eye. The calico grinned back shyly before turning to Sorrelpaw again.

“As many of us know, one apprentice has passed her assessment and is ready to become a warrior.” Briarstar gazed down, and Paleberry could see Icefern in the crowd, beaming beyond belief. Briarstar cleared her throat. “I, Briarstar, leader of WindClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. Sorrelpaw has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn.”

Sorrelpaw’s excited bouncing got a chortle out of most of WindClan.

Briarstar smiled proudly. “Sorrelpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

Sorrelpaw nodded sharply, and Paleberry knew it was genuine. “I do.”

Briarstar smiled warmly. “Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Sorrelpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Sorrelfeather, after the cat who gave so much to bring you back to WindClan. StarClan honors your spirit and utmost loyalty.”

The Clan began to cheer, and Briarstar leaned down to lean her head on Sorrelpaw’s shoulder, but the new warrior was stiff. She was frowning and stepped away from the leader.

Briarstar leaned back, and cats began to murmur. “Sorrelfeather? Is something wrong?”

“Will you get mad if I say it is?” she squeaked. Briarstar looked towards the Clan in surprise. Paleberry narrowed her eyes.

“Is she allowed to do that?” Pearpaw whispered. Paleberry didn’t look at her apprentice.

“I’m not sure.”

“You can tell me anything,” Briarstar purred, smiling. “Do you not like your name?”

“Nothing like that,” Sorrelpaw shook her head. “It’s just… I would like to be Sorrelbreeze instead. Breeze was known for being Breeze, not Breezefeather, at the end of her life. That’s who she was, and who she chose to be. And I choose to be like Breeze.”

Briarstar smiled. “Very well, then. From this moment on, you will be known as Sorrelbreeze. StarClan grant that although you don’t tread the same path as Breeze, you will carry on her spirit.”

Sorrelbreeze nodded, eye shining. “Of course,” she whispered.

“Sorrelbreeze! Sorrelbreeze!”

Paleberry joined the chant numbly. The reminder of Breeze sent chills down her spine, though it had felt like forever ago.

She hadn’t known that Breeze had outed Ashpoppy’s deeds, but at the same time, Breeze had also killed Oakstar. So she’d either be exiled again, or killed. There was really no good outcome.

After the ceremony, Briarstar leapt less than gracefully from the Tallrock and approached her sister. Paleberry sent Pearpaw off for break and smiled when she saw the leader.

“That went well,” Paleberry said simply. Briarstar snorted.

“Yeah. Haven’t heard about Breezefea- Breeze in a long time, huh?”

Paleberry nodded. She hadn’t even talked about Breeze since the night of her burial, where she’d admitted everything to her sister.

As for Pinestar, the black she-cat was silent in StarClan. She stopped visiting Paleberry, either out of disappointment or guilt. Either way, Paleberry was more than happy to be free of her constant belittling and omens. StarClan had gone dead silent the first two moons, and little by little, starting with Graymouse, cats began to visit Paleberry again. She assumed it was because she was nearing the end of her life.

As for Breeze, she had no idea where the rogue had gone. She hadn’t seen Breeze in StarClan, but that was understandable, as tensions would have run high between the two of them anyway if they'd met.

“Four moons,” Briarstar said with a smile, breaking Paleberry’s thoughts. “Tops.”

“What are you talking about?” the medicine cat demanded, following her sister’s gaze. Briarstar jerked her head.

“Until those two become mates,” she said, flicking an ear at Sorrelbreeze and Runninghare, her former mentor. Paleberry laughed sharply as Sorrelbreeze glared up at Runninghare, laughing lightly as the much taller tom shared the same blissful gleam.

“Four moons!” she spat. “It’ll be less than that.”

"That reminds me of the thing father used to tell us teasingly as kits," Briarstar with a sad twinkle in her eye. "He'd go, 'That Graymouse has your eye on you, tick tock Briartuft! He'll be asking you out in no time.'"

Paleberry laughed gently at the reminder of Finchstar, but it faded quickly.

The sisters watch Sorrelbreeze and Runninghare play for a moment longer before Briarstar gave Paleberry a sidelong glance.

“She deserves to be happy, you know,” she murmured, watching the short tortoiseshell giggle from across the clearing. Paleberry grumbled in agreement.

“She’s happy here again,” she pointed out. “What, with Sandhawk gone and her mother here to greet her, it’s like she was never gone.”

“She never got the mentor she wanted.”  

Paleberry heaved a sigh. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

Briarstar shook her head. “No. We’re WindClan cats,” she reminded her sister. “When we choose something, anything, that’s what we stick to. We’re proud cats, and I’m proud to lead them and help them grow past that.”

Paleberry smiled shyly. “They’re lucky to have you,” she teased.

“It’ll take work,” Briarstar admitted, sweeping her gaze over her quiet Clan. “But I think we can learn from our mistakes, right?”

Paleberry purred a broken purr, one she had not felt in a long time.

As for Breeze, the hero who wasn’t quite a hero, the cat who was ultimately wrong, she had never been happier.

She awoke in StarClan, and immediately her eyes opened to the face of a ginger tom the color of a sunrise. He was staring into her face with bright eyes, the same eyes Breeze had. Breeze had gasped, and she had pushed herself into his fur and cried. She had pictured his face so many times, and now it was right there and she could feel him and she was there.

“I can’t wait to show you around,” Sundusk said, eyes twinkling just as much as StarClan itself. “There’s so much we can do, so much to live out the years we missed!”

Breeze stepped forward eagerly with paws alight, but she paused. “Can we do that in a little bit?” she asked. “There’s someone I want you to see.”

Sundusk agreed happily. Anything for his daughter, he said. Breeze had never heard anyone say that before, and she ran ahead of him to hide her tears.

She ran through WindClan’s territory, strangely full of unfamiliar ghost-cats and stars. She passed camp, ran through the meadow and headed past the fallen and through the golden field and in front of the barn. She heaved to catch her breath that she hadn’t realized she lost when a tom passed out, whiskers twitching.

Sundusk’s face lit up. “I know you!” he exclaimed at the tom. He turned to Breeze, eyes sad and full of memories but lively at the same time. “How did you find him?”

The dark ginger tom only grinned as Sundusk turned back to him, exhaling in relief.

“Thank you,” the WindClan cat murmured honestly. “I would have died alone if not for you. You did your best.”

The tom’s head dipped, and Breeze could barely contain her smile.

“Hey, no problem,” the dark tom said cheerfully. “Thanks for the chance for letting me to get to know your daughter.”

Breeze laughed lightly, and she was surprised at how light and tinkly it was. She had not been this happy in a long time, and she could physically feel it rise up in her chest.

The moral of her story was not that vengeance is the answer, nor was death. She hadn’t needed anyone until she had lost them. The answer, Breeze found, was in finding happiness in those that love you. Recognizing love, and then surrounding yourself with it, that was the first step.

A wise tortoiseshell had told her that, once.

And as she looked up at her friend, and her heart swelled, she knew it was true.   

“Hey, Ro,” Breeze whispered, pressing her face into his soft chest. Rowan’s fur was cold, maybe because all the warmth was held in his eyes.

“Hey, kid.”

Author's Note

(some language bc that's who i am as a person)

(also this is like, really long brace yourself)

Hello reader! I’ve just added this as a reflection, of sorts. To wrap everything up with a bow.

This story has changed drastically from before its rewrite (circa 2014 ish) There was only one exile, Breeze’s, and it was on the wrongful account of the vile villain Oakthorn. Sundusk’s death was an accident and he was mentioned like once. There were four Allegiances, not one. Rowan did not exist except in the allegiances. Ashpoppy’s twist was worryingly sudden and motiveless. There were other small changes, too, but these were honorable.

What I did in this story was to specifically destroy the single, all-evil villain trope that 2014 Rogue held. In fact, I think I did the exact opposite, which is something I myself have never really seen before: the antagonists outnumbers the protagonists. And the villains were for the most part not evil, but all sorts of grays. The only glaring protagonists in the whole story that aren’t side characters are Sorrel/breeze and Rowan. Let me explain my antagonists:

Our first (and my personal favorite) is Oakstar. He was our young Tigerstar villain: hot air, ambition, and a whole lot of anger issues. He’s got some heritage issues and takes blame out on Breeze. He’s what I call my Blind Bull Villain: he has the motives and the brute, but he can’t see that he’s wrong or see… Really anything. Which is his downfall.

Then we’ve got Ashpoppy, who’s kind of your run of the mill “somebody killed my family member so now I swear vengeance” gal with the twist being that she really isn’t evil, she’s kind of scared of herself but she’s Not Good, ya feel.

The whole point of Astrid was to reflect Ashpoppy so we’ll skim her as well. She didn't agree with her mate, she tried to kill him. Probably the most "villainous" on this list.

Interestingly enough, there’s also Finchstar on the list. While he didn’t do much in the actual story, we can see the impact of his entirely intentional actions: Sundusk’s death, Ashpoppy’s descent, Breeze’s exile (he literally smears his blood on her like,) etc. He hates Sundusk and his family, and while he doesn't go batshit like Ashpoppy, he stays wisely in his lane. And if shit goes down with that family? Not his problem.

Another antagonist is… The whole of WindClan. They’re not villainous, per say, but it comes as a shocker to Breeze when they refuse to accept that killing Sundusk was a mistake, even though it clearly was. They also exile her without question and just generally refuse to change and grow. WindClan has always been a proud Clan, and it makes them deadly as Briar so said. But to see that they're working past it is notable.

Then ofc there’s Paleberry. She just made a bunch of mistakes and tried to cover them up by killing Breeze which was obviously a Bad Move. But like, she isn’t evil either. She’s just old and tired and wants to do things the fast way instead of the right way.

Our last antagonist is Breeze herself. And yes, it depends on your point of view, but an exiled cat that vows vengeance and later kills her stepdad in the goriest way possible is… Kind of villainous to me. I never showed certain cats in StarClan or the Dark Forest, because it’s kind of up to the reader who ended up where.

On the topic of Breeze, I really liked writing her as a main character. In the original Rogue she was kind of a “feel bad for me because wrong exile” dud, but in this story… It just makes sense. Her snappy nature enables her to go head to head with Oakthorn and she learns from it later. I think I really developed her from there without losing too much of her personality.

also something i wanted to note, there was foreshadowing about ashpoppy corrupting oakthorn/star without them even being mentioned! Remember Astrid, who wanted to kill her mate Thorn???? and take over??? :)))

I could go on about any of my characters forever, but i’m not gonna take up more space than i already am so if you have any questions please ask!!

While it’s not the best ending I’ve ever written, there was really no other path for Breeze besides another exile or death. So uh, yeah. Also I think Ashpoppy’s twist is a tiny bit more expected than it used to be because it used to be like, out of the blue entirely. But I’m definitely satisfied with the story, esp because I started writing it on the fly and had no intention of ever… finishing it lol. But I knocked it out in a month! Thank you to everyone who commented and supported this story, wouldn’t have gone anywhere without the positivity that Rogue received.

xxginger

(ps y'all want to know something embarrassing about this? When I was typing up the Allegiance cats descriptions I entirely meant for Astrid's name to be Aster (the flower). However I was half-watching the Office and writing (a mistake) when the name Astrid was brought up and I was like "oh yeah Rowan's mom = Astrid" and I got well through a couple chapters before I Realized and it was too late. So now Astrid is named after some norse woman and not a purple flower. cool cool)