Chapter Text
It had been a hard season.
Bluestar paced feverishly in the back of the leader’s den, nestled in the rocks at Thunderclan camp. Her pawpads were starting to wear out, like she could feel the bone rubbing beneath the flesh. Stopping to rest was still unthinkable, however. She had to figure out what to do, and her body wanted to be moving.
Things had been difficult for all the clans in the forest, yes, but Thunderclan had surely borne the brunt of it. Greencough had just ripped through her clan with a fickle sort of malice, dooming young and old, strong and weak alike. The air was still cold, the trees still mostly barren of leaves, and there was an unease as to whether the illness might come back. There had been no new kits in moons, and the ones born prior to the epidemic were missing parents, siblings, facing a shortage of warriors to train them. Sunningrocks had been lost to Riverclan again, in another wave of the endless cycle which haunted the place. No efforts so far could successfully regain the territory. Now she worried that they hadn't the numbers to make another attempt.
And now there’s Brokenstar’s erratic behavior, the grey cat thought. The last thing she needed was to lose more territory, more resources. Prey had been scarce. She didn’t know what the Shadowclan leader was planning, but heard he was unstable: a danger she couldn’t afford to turn a blind eye to.
She could sense a general malcontent among the clan. Grumbling behind her back, if it had not already begun, was long overdue. It reminded her of the circumstances in which she’d gained her own ranks, ascending to deputy, and later to leadership. She felt like Sunstar would’ve known what to do. He had given her a life dedicated to courage during her leadership ceremony so long ago.
All I did was squander it, she brooded. He had wanted to make Thunderclan magnificent. He had been snuffed out. What sort of a successor was she?
A cat was approaching. Her den gave her a line of sight straight through camp, all the way to the gorse tunnel entrance. Someone loped towards her from the warriors den: it was Redtail. Her deputy had a strange knack for appearing whenever she reached her wits end.
“Bluestar,” he hailed, stooping at the shoulder to peer into her den. “Has the greencough got you, too? You haven’t come out of your den yet today, and it’s sunhigh.”
“No,” she croaked, unconvincingly. She hadn’t spoken to another cat since she’d woken up; her vocal cords betrayed her. “No,” she managed a fuller meow. “I’m quite well.”
“Would you come hunting with me?” the lithe warrior’s bushy, red tail flickered about his paws as he sat outside the entrance to her rock hollow.
“I suppose,” she said. She knew there would be no prey out in the open at this time of day, especially when there was no ground foliage to hide them. But Redtail knew that, too. He was here for something else, and perhaps wanted her away from camp.
Maybe a mutiny has begun already, she thought grimly.
The sun hurt her eyes when she left the shade of her den, and Redtail was gracious enough to pretend he didn’t notice her hard blinks as she acclimated. He led the way back across camp, through the gorse tunnel, and into the wood beyond.
“What do you suppose we’ll catch?” Bluestar asked, once they were far enough from camp to be unheard.
“I thought you might catch some sunlight and fresh air,” Redtail replied. “You’ve been keeping to yourself lately, and the clan is worried. I’m worried. I thought I’d get you out of camp and stretch your legs, at least.” She avoided returning his gaze. He loped beside her, stubbornly keeping pace with her every step. She could feel him still looking at her, searching her face. Her whiskers twitched, betraying her a little.
“I’ve never been much of a stoic.” She finally sighed. “Redtail, I’m fine. Really. This Leafbare has been hard on the clan, you know that. I’ve been trying to think about what to do so we can prepare for better days. Make the most of them. Especially when the prey is running again.”
“Have you thought about visiting the Moonstone?” Redtail asked, no hint of reproach in his voice. There was an optimism behind the suggestion which stung her.
“Spottedleaf hasn’t heard from Starclan in moons. I know if I sought them out, they’d answer me, but I think it’s likely our bad luck needs to run its course.” She crafted her response as honestly as she could manage. She knew her deputy venerated the fallen warriors and their power, their wisdom. She didn’t necessarily disagree, but as of late, she had caught stray doubts at the edges of her mind. Did Starclan care about what was happening right now? Even if they did, even if they had an answer, how much could they help? How much power was in their paws? She was afraid to confront them when thoughts like this plagued her. Though she hadn’t done anything to break the warrior code, though she hadn’t broken faith in them, her guilt kept her at bay.
“I see.” Redtail’s delay in response set her on edge. Did he suspect?
“Besides, I’m afraid to leave the clan unattended. I don’t want anyone to know I’m gone, especially having lost so many warriors to greencough. Besides, crossing Windclan territory always sets me on edge, ever since the battle. I think it’s too vulnerable; Starclan will send help to Spottedleaf in a vision, if they have something they need us to know.”
Redtail could remember the battle well; he had been there himself. Bluestar had wanted to forget it, but the thought of crossing their windswept moors to reach the sacred stone called it all back to mind. There was truly no clan they were on friendly terms with right now. Until the bad blood with Windclan washed away, until Sunningrocks was back in Thunderclan control, and until Brokenstar had proved himself one way or another, she couldn’t go away. She couldn’t leave her clan for even one night.
“I see the dilemma.” Redtail sighed. She wondered if he really did. Bright, cheery sunlight in the blue sky filtered down on their coats, keeping them warm in the late winter season. It cast everything in a vivid glow, nearly mocking their worries. It would have been a beautiful day otherwise. Redtail gave a twitch of his ears and spoke again. “I have hope for greenleaf. I think you’re right to prepare. So please, let me help you. What have you decided while thinking it over for yourself?”
“Well, we need more warriors,” She said. “I know more mouths means more food, but as soon as that’s plentiful again, everyone will forget their worries about having enough to eat and instead begin to worry about whoever else is lurking in the bushes. We need strong patrolling presence; we need to put up a brave front for the other clans, until we’re not bluffing anymore.”
“Tigerclaw and Goldenflower are having kits soon,” Redtail smiled. “Lionheart and Frostfur as well.”
“I pray good health for their litters.” Bluestar said. “We need trustworthy warriors to apprentice those kits, too. They’ll be ready for training before we realize it.”
“We do.” Redtail replied without venturing into the territory Bluestar had been hoping: Who did he trust? Was there anyone in the clan to be wary of, in the meantime?
“Do you have any recommendations…?” She looked at him for perhaps the first time during their conversation. This time, it was he who averted her gaze. “I trust you. Your perspective is valuable.” Though he was the deputy, cats of the clan could still say certain things around him they might not around Bluestar. Since becoming leader, she had begun to feel that gradual disconnect. Status had placed her out of touch with her own people, in many ways. Now it felt worse than ever before. She needed to know what they were thinking, and what they expected of her.
“I think Runningwind would love the chance,” Redtail said. “Since he never…”
“Yes…” Bluestar relieved him from recounting, again, the tragic loss of the tom’s kits. That had been another blow to the clan, and part of what made her so fearful for the welfare of the little ones still on their way. There were fewer adults to protect them now, and more threats than ever. A part of her had already hardened her heart in preparation; not all of the upcoming kits were likely to survive to warriorhood. It was just a matter of who, when, and how.
“I’d love to take on another apprentice, too,” Redtail’s optimistic voice interrupted her thoughts. “And I wonder if it’s time for Spottedleaf to begin training somebody to help her out in the medicine den.”
“Your counsel is appreciated, as always,” Bluestar tapped his tail with her own in an affectionate gesture. “I think I’ll give you jurisdiction over the mentorship assignments this time.”
“That’s a great honor,” Redtail bowed his head sheepishly. “We can revisit this topic when it’s time, to make sure you still want it that way. But I’ll think of good mentors for them in the meantime.”
Their walk had taken them aimlessly through the pines, towards Twolegplace. Now, the wooden fences and boxy twoleg dwellings were coming into view.
“Shh,” Bluestar said, suddenly, an edge of mischief to her voice. She hunkered low to the ground in a quick movement, and Redtail followed suit.
“What is it? Did you scent someone else out here?” He whispered urgently. His ears were flattening against his skull, his pupils darting back and forth.
“No, I…I want to see if we could startle one of the kittypets,” she admitted, already ashamed of her childish impulse. Sharing it with another felt reproachful. To her surprise, Redtail suppressed a chuckle and nodded vigorously.
“It’s good to see you acting like your old self,” he said. “We’ll see if we can spot any of them.”
They paced along the edge of twolegplace, crouching low and keeping quiet in the dry leaves, until they were certain no kittypets had ventured outdoors on this sunny winter day.
“Shame” Bluestar finally said. “It’s actually warm enough for those pampered creatures to see the sun today.”
“If they cared to.” Redtail corrected. “Let’s get back to camp. We can see if we catch anything on the way, but at least we’ve patrolled a little in the meantime.”
The way to camp was devoid of prey and conversation. When they returned, they were greeted with warmth and cheer by the few other cats lounging in the clearing, but Bluestar wondered how deeply those good feelings reached. The diversion at twolegplace had taken her thoughts away from the plight of the clan for a little while, but even that search had come up fruitless.
It had been a very hard season.