The Fault in Our Stars (BirchxFawn) L0S0V0

[Cloudbat]

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[bg=#121225] For the beauty of the stars. Birchtail often thought, cleaning everyone's nests absentmindedly as she did now, that while Volepelt and the Council were very noble and wise and extolled the wisdom of the stars, they rarely mentioned their beauty. Granted, she wasn't privy to StarClan magic - for that was how she thought of it - but it seemed strange that it rarely mentioned love beside the spiritual kind. She looked down, her paws on autopilot, but found that instead of straightening the mass of moss, bracken, and a few sticks as a frame, it was simply more messy. But the long-furred tabby breathed deeply. No stress, no stress. She had come dangerously close to doubting, and doubt was not allowed. No doubt love was in there somewhere. Love was everything. She'd ask Reedfoot about it - what a lovely lady, and a wonderful mentor to her son. Her son...her kits...oh, she missed Cinderpaw. It hurt every day that her daughter had forsaken her for Owlstar. But one day she would be back. StarClan promised gifts to the faithful. Still, Birchtail felt lost, and being shallow as she was, didn't understand why. She needed something to cheer her up...even cleaning didn't help, and if she licked her own fur one more time it'd come off. Where was Beaverstripe? She needed him. Even if he scorned her, she needed him. Just to look at him. Just to know he was there. Stepping outside in the weak sunlight, she cast her weary amber gaze around the camp. No. He wasn't here. He scorned her. He scorned the stars. But he was all she had. Not even realizing where her paws were taking her, she padded toward the nursery, paws silently sinking into the moist ground.

[Pyro]

Hm, hm, hm. The twins sure knew how to run a cat into the ground...but this time it had been mamma Fawnstep who ran them into the ground. Give them enough uninterupted playtime and any kit, no matter how rambunctious, would be out like a light. The twins were currently all snug together, worn out and done in. A flawless victory. Although, Fawnstep was a bit tuckered out from it all herself. She'd raised many a kit, yes, but she wasn't getting any younger. If only Arthur was there to help her.

Just the thought of her mate made her heart cringe with pain...but she had to be strong for her kits. She could raise them alone if she had to, and as she had to, she would. It was a risky business though, and she was often found to be at fault as far as educating them in StarClan went. But she was still new to the idea and couldn't help but want her kits to have a choice in the matter. Kits should be raised, not melted down and cast to be mindless followers. Certainly not when they would be men, who needed to take an interest in the world around them and form their own views on its workings. Did she expect obedience? Yes. She was their mother and would have nothing less. But she would not force them to be educated in something she herself could find no stock in.

Somewhat belatedly, she noticed Birchtail coming toward the nursery. Fawnstep reflected that it must be hard for her to deal with the circumstances of her son's apprenticeship. She knew she dreaded the day when her own kits would take their names...how would little Spot manage...but then, perhaps Birchtail was not so worried. Some mothers were happy to see their children so mercilessly whipped into the regime's desired shape. Still. Burch was a mother. And that gave her some kinship in Fawnstep's eyes.

"Oh hello, Birchtail. What're you up to over there? Newleaf cleaning already?"

[Cloudbat]

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[bg=#121225] Blearily, the long-furred tabby's nose alerted her of the other she-cat's presence just before she spoke, her right front paw still raised in midair. She put it down, shaking her head. StarClan frowned upon distraction. Yet perhaps a chat with Fawnstep would cheer her up. She had such charming kits after all, even if they were a bit rambunctious. Breaking into a painful smile, her paws sank into the moist ground as she padded over to sit beside the orange and white queen, breathing deeply. Ah, milk and motherhood. Those days seemed so long ago, now...she glanced at the two sleeping tom-kits, and smiled. Then she looked at Fawnstep, and tried to form a coherent answer. "Ah...yes. But something is not right. I seem to have lost my touch. Do you think I have committed some minor sin that I am being punished for, perhaps? It's just that normally it's so easy to clean and organize, it's a blithe joy...but it distracts from duty, I suppose. Maybe that's why. Oh, listen to me - I'm being selfish. How are your sons? They seem very healthy." Awkwardly, she bent to lick the side of her leg to disguise her embarrassment. Fool! I know better than to center a conversation on myself. Selfishness is a much greater sin than distraction, isn't it? Gracious, I must be slipping. She sighed, tail tip twitching in anxiety. If only I could travel to the MoonGlade...I don't have many sinwounds, but those I do...I feel like they'll never come off. That place, it must be so beautiful, yet not fit for such a lowly cat as I. Thrushflower can be terrifying, but maybe she does have a point about blood...maybe that's a problem too...I just...don't know... I don't know who I am anymore. Not admitted fully, but the truth. The truth the shallow she-cat could not handle. The truth she blinded herself to with starlight. The truth that could either destroy her mind forever - or set her free.

[Pyro]

"Some si-Oh really now Birchtail, don't be silly. I'm sure it's just because you haven't touched up the nests in a while. The apprentices are so good at being on top of things like that it's rare you have to do it yourself...hmph. I can hardly see why everyone's so insistent on starving the poor things." Probably not the best way to end a reply to a devotee like Birchtail, but eh. It was safe to say that everyone knew Fawnstep's position on the methods used to train the children of the clan. But honestly. Their treatment of the dears was so ignorant and barbaric it was disgusting. One of these days she'd give that Volepelt a piece of her mind. Tawnywhisker was fine...well not really. But she wasn't quite as bad as Volepelt, and she'd intervened when that loathsome she-badger Thrushflower had tried to harm her babies (which admittedly, made her okay in Fawnstep's eyes). "Here, I'll help you. Two mothers working together ought to be able to straighten out the warrior's den. Or at least one nest." Fawnstep padded past Birchtail and into the warrior's den, hesitating only slightly at the entrance. It seemed like ages since she'd been in it...The nursery was practically her home, and would continue to be it until the sad day when Spottedkit and Patchkit became apprentices. Her two handsome, troublesome boys...oh wait! Hadn't Birchtail asked her how they were? "Patchkit and Spot are wonderful. A little troublesome now that they can get about, but kits will be kits." she laughed. "and after as many kits as I've had, I think I know kits." [bg=c8d1d8][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Cloudbat]

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[bg=#121225] Her sunken eyes brightened slightly at the other queen's words. Then again, I'm not really a queen anymore....but I feel like one now. I feel safe here. This is where I was before...before everything changed. She longed to snuggle up close to Fawnstep, as if she were a kit herself, desperate for the warmth she thought she could draw from the cold stars. Yet politeness held her back. Politeness and desperation. I must not be rejected again, she thought. Not by anyone. StarClan keeps me, and I must continue to prove myself worthy. "Oh...maybe you're right." She finally answered faintly. "I know it's for their own good, but...I have seen Falconpaw look a bit thin lately." Quickly, the long-furred tabby looked around to make sure no one's attention was on them and leaned in to whisper in the other she-cat's ear. "I...I've snuck him some scraps once or twice. Please don't tell anyone." She said, wide amber eyes glazed with desperation. It was the sin she was afraid of being punished for. Then she drew back, lapsing back into her normal demeanor, prim and proper as her depraved, delusional self could be. It was like there were two Birchtails - the bland, ordinary, featherbrained one who heard Fawnstep's words and merely played out her role as a devotee - and the other Birchtail, the one who was desperate for redemption, for truth, for a mate, for so many things that she was more desperation than cat. The first acted as if the second didn't exist. The second was trapped yet could not help bursting out on rare occasions, like now. "Why thank you." She said, her face carefully blank again. "Cleanliness is next to StarClan, after all." Then, breathing deeply the smell of the nursery and Fawnstep again, her tail went down and she trembled, ever so slightly, transported back to the days when her kits were nothing more than squirming balls of fur, constantly needing her milk and warmth and licking. "Many kits?" she said wonderingly. "How many? I'd like to be a mother again...tell me about your kits. How many have you had? What were they like?" The look on the warrior's face was hungry. So hungry. She had forgotten all about the cleaning and her soul longed to be nourished by the stories of the orange and white queen.

[Pyro]

"For their own good? More like Volepelt's and his idea of the perfect clan...although I'm sure his heart's in the right place at the end of the day." Yes...she had to think that no matter how she felt about his methods. It was the only way she could stomach remaining in the clan. Gone were the innocent faces that took her in. If only Arthur were there. He'd know exactly what to do. "Tell, dear? Not on my life. You know, sometimes I do the same."

Fawnstep's expression grew warm. Her kits. Her beautiful kits. "Many sons. Oh if only you could see them!" She paused, thinking of their handsome faces before continuing, "I had two litters before this one. My oldest sons, little Billy and Charlie, followed Arthur and I while we travelled with a rogue group named 'the pheonixes'. There was only one kit in my second litter...P-Percy." His rejection was still a raw wound, for all the time that had passed. "He...he chose to leave. Oh, but he was such a smart little thing. We...we probably weren't the best company for him."

No, she wouldn't cry. She wanted what was best for her sons- for all of them, nevermind if it broke her heart. Fawnstep turned away, using the untidy nests as an opportunity to compose herself. She brushed at one a bit listlessly at first, then with a determinded fervor as she was caught up in the activity. The queen arranged it as if she were arranging it for one of her own kits.

"Bit of an art to it, if you can believe that...what about your son?"

[Cloudbat]

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[bg=#121225] Her eyes widened and the warrior's brown spine fur bristled slightly. Fawnstep was either brave or insane...or both. "But Volepelt is the direct servant of StarClan's chosen herself." She breathed, disbelieving the orange and white queen's derogatory tone. "His ideas are based on divine messages. How can that not be good? He is our leader on the path to righteousness." As a kittypet, Birchtail had loved her family, before the Twolegs had taken most of them and her parents had died of old age. As a rogue, she'd never much enjoyed being on her own, though the company of coarse ruffians hadn't appealed to her either. FogClan had offered something even better: a holy goal, a chance for redemption. Originally, her belief had stemmed from her longing to see Slash again, but it had grown into so much more. FogClan had become her family, and their beliefs had become hers. StarClan meant security and warmth, and then something more lofty: purity and cleanliness. Of course, she had been thrilled to pursue such a goal. When Miststar had taken over, Birchtail had firmly believed it had been StarClan's will. When Miststar had left, she had been devastated, but put her faith in Volepelt and prayed for the ivory leader's return. From Owlstar, to Miststar, to Volepelt her trust had flowed like a stream to settle in a pond. Volepelt was less of a cat and more of a symbol to the long-furred tabby; he represented hope itself. Such was her faith that she had - needed - in him. Yet the second Birchtail clawed her way into existence as her amber eyes widened yet more and her mouth dropped open slightly, then firmly shut quickly so no cat would notice. She shoved the knowledge deep beneath: Fawnstep might be a traitor, but no more than she was herself. They were equally marked by their sins. Then the hunger of both sides of the neat-freak she-cat became dominant and drank in the queen's story. Kits...three litters...it was a daunting thing, but so wonderful to imagine. Her face fell into sorrow as her companion told the tale of her third son. It was only too like what had happened with Cinderpaw. She was startled back into attention as Fawnstep was actually rearranging a nest, her ears flicking as she was aware of the world around her again, tail twitching slightly. Meekly, as if drawn by the power of the queen's tales, she followed in step and began to quietly work on the nest beside it as she pondered the question that had been posed to her. "Falconpaw?" She mewed in the damp, somewhat chill air, as if reminding herself of his own name. Of his fierce honor and will to fight for his Clan. Of his contempt for her yet his desperation that let him accept the scraps she gave him. Of the gap between them both that Cinderpaw's absence had created. Of how she could tell he blamed her for it. But how could she tell any of that to Fawnstep? Why would Fawnstep even want to know? "I...he...he is my only kit." She said simply, but with a world of pain behind the words as her paws worked slowly, but copying the bi-colored FogClanner's actions. "I had no others before the...before him. He is...like his father in some ways. Not like him at all in others. He was born...at the very edge of our territory, just before the Clans came...I took him here as soon as he could make the journey. I wanted the best for he and...for him. I hope I have found it." She added faintly, looking down and smiling an empty smile, a smile that had once been so full of joy at what she was doing. One nest done.

[Pyro]

"Yes, and he's harming children in StarClan's name. How can that be righteous?" Fawnstep shook her head. She was entering dangerous waters now, she could tell. Birchtail might be a mother, but she was one of those that believed what Volepelt was doing was right. "But what do I know? I haven't been here very long. Maybe I'm just paranoid because of my kits. I want the best for them." Was there something she just couldn't see? Had all that time she'd spent with the pheonixes robbed her of the ability to see things differently? Maybe there was something good to be seen in-bs. Absolute bs. She would not allow herself to be dragged into the cult that ruled FogClan. Starving children was wrong. Starving anybody was wrong. Children were the future, you couldn't smother them. You had to let them grow, you had to teach them all you knew and let them find their own way. Now, of course, there was nothing wrong with a little disciplining now and again...heaven knew Spottedkit and Patchkit needed a could telling off at least once a day...but she would never do what mentors were now told to do to their apprentices. That was just pure brutality. Ha! 'Pure and purity'. Once words aligned with good now tainted by evil. "Your only kit? Then he is all the more precious." Fawnstep moved on to the next nest, removing all dirty bedding to a neat pile near the entrance of the den. "Having come from rogues myself, I can assure you there is much to be said for being in a group when you have kits. You made the right choice, I'm sure." 'It's just fogClan's leaders that are making the wrong ones.' She smiled at Birchtail, hoping to reassure her. "If anything can be said for this regime of Volepelt's, it's that it teaches our kits a bit of discipline." And of course, how not to raise their own kits when they had them. "I cannot say, without lying, that I agree with what Volepelt is doing, or that it is what's best for my two kits, and I hope you don't fault me for that. But it is difficult to raise kits alone. I've always had Arthur to help, and in those spare few times when he couldn't, I've always had someone else because I was in a 'clan'. I don't think I could have raised Spottedkit and Patchkit by myself, and I don't regret having birthed them into this clan. I made the choice that was right for the time and I'm sure you did too." the mother sighed, picking half-heartedly at the nest she was fixing. "But I don't know if it is the right choice to remain here." Surely Birchtail could understand. Even if she was loyal to Volepelt, surely she was loyal to her kit as well and would put him first above all else. She had defied Volepelt in her own small way by giving scraps to Falconpaw and was not afraid to admit it. Obviously she too thought something was not quite right even if she would not admit it outright. "I'm trying so hard to see some good in this regime so that I do not have to make my babies leave behind the only home they've ever known...but it is hard sometimes. I worry about their safety. You heard what that vile she-cat Thrushflower tried to do to them? What if she gets one of my children as an apprentice?" [bg=c8d1d8][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Cloudbat]

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[bg=#121225] "'Harming' them?" Echoed Birchtail. "There is no progress without pain. Pain to draw out imperfection. Imperfection to be cleansed. Cleansing to purity. Purity to holiness." She said nothing to Fawnstep's next words, but dipped her head and was glad that she was at least considering the possibilities. Her only kit...it was hard enough to say it herself, harder even to hear the queen repeat the lie. Yet she remembered more clearly now: Fawnstep had only come after her daughter had left. She did not know of Birchtail's shame. She could not judge her for it. It was a small relief. "Discipline, yes." said the long-furred tabby faintly, caught up in memories of a time when there had been two small warm bodies by her side, two playing, two laughing, two living close to - "I-I fear I may not have been strict enough with Falconpaw. Maybe if I had tempered him more, guided him...he would not need so much discipline, now. Maybe if his father were alive..." Yet her amber eyes widened as Fawnstep went on. Those words were a sinwound-worthy offense. She was shocked at her Clanmate's audaciousness. Leave the Clan? Volepelt was wrong? No, no, no. Fawnstep couldn't leave. She mustn't go. For her own sake, for her soul to be saved. For her kits', to be raised in the good she couldn't see yet. For Birchtail's...who needed a friend, and who was bound to her now as surely as if StarClan themselves had decreed it. She refused to consider the latter, as it would lead her already strained mind into even deeper weariness. She refused because it meant admitting things best left not admitted. This must be, thought the warrior. It must be. Let the ancestors grant that what I see is true, and that I honor and thank them for bringing me this gift. Amen. She kept most of her thoughts to herself and pretended to ignore her companion's blasphemous words, but even with her blindness to the cruelty of Volepelt and her adoration of the Council she could not pretend that Thrushflower did not scare her a bit. "While the Council is great and good, I reluctantly agree with you. That...she...she scares me a bit, I admit. Her zeal is admirable...but it is sometimes...misplaced, I fear. I did not hear what Thrushflower did to them, and while I'm sure she did it with good intentions, I can't say that I agree with all her methods." She shuddered slightly, almost unaware of doing so. But then her ears perked up and she spoke with enthusiastic, genuine sincerity. "Oh, surely if you do not want her to mentor them, you can make a request! I can add my words to yours, if you like, for support. I'm sure the Council will respect your right as a mother to choose, and there are plenty of suitable candidates. Why, if I did not have Foxpaw I'd volunteer myself." Obedient Birchtail might be, willfully ignorant of the blood inflicted in the name of progress she might be, but even she felt that there were certain rights all mothers were accorded, and this was one of them.

[Pyro]

"Birthed enough kits to know that...But there is such a thing as too much pain for the sake of progress. Maybe if the council were more lenient, more frugal with their punishments, well, maybe then the apprentices would learn better. How can anyone learn on an empty stomach and with a few dozen gaping wounds? Oh but I know what you mean about wishing your kit had a father. Maybe if Arthur were around Spot and Patch wouldn't be so...oh. But he's probably dead or long gone. I'm losing hope that he'll return." Oh just listen to her prattled on. And when it was obviously falling on deaf ears. Birchtail was a mother yes, but she was a regime mother. How could she think so highly of those who were harming her only kit? She should be screaming with frustration. She should be giving them double what they gave her kit. Oh just let one of those mealy-mouthed, no good, vermin lay one paw on Spottedkit or Patchkit and she'd. OH. She'd just kill them and that would be that. She'd take her kits and leave. Arthur or no Arthur. And Thrushflower admirable? "She's a cow. And a coward besides." Good intentions? GOOD INTENTIONS. "Birchtail, she threatened their lives! She picked Patchkit right up and threatened to kill him then and there. If Tawnywhisker hadn't been there to stop her, I don't know what she would have done...But I know what I would have if she'd so much as moved another muscle." The queen hissed, trying to expel some of her building anger. She was not quick to anger. And if she was, she would not be. It was just her kits...she just couldn't stand to hear someone talk about the goings on of FogClan as if they were normal. As if they were right. "It's cats like her that deserve sinwounds. But did she get one? No. all she had to do was come up with an apology that was faker than those plants twolegs insist on keeping. And yet apprentices are beaten for not being able to find any prey? In leafbare? When they lack the experience, the skill, to be infallible hunters? That is not right, Birchtail. It isn't. And I don't care what they do to me or if you turn me in for saying so, because that won't make it right." Fawnstep took a breath. She was being rash. At any moment a council member could walk in and do what Birchtail seemed unwilling to. She was nearly shaking with rage...just the thought of Thrushflower and Volepelt and all they stood for... "Y-You are kind to offer that. I am sure Foxpaw is lucky to have you as her mentor. There is someone else who will treat my kits right in this clan, I am sure." [bg=c8d1d8][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Cloudbat]

Birchtail froze, both literally and metaphorically, a bit of moss she had just picked up hanging comically off her claw. Mentally she froze as she longed to agree that maybe Fawnstep was right...she couldn't. She must. But she couldn't.

"Yes." She finally choked out, the word barely comprehensible. The tabby continued in a quavery mew. "Yes. That is true. Oh StarClan, I know it's for a good cause, I know, but why...?" She snapped her mouth, fearing any more treasonous words that might come out of it. Birchtail was thinking only of the regime either; the death of her mate also bitterly came surging back.

She tried to clean another nest, claws raking to find the dirty pieces, her shoulders hunched as her amber eyes looked down, wide with emotions she dared not even form the words for in her mind, lest StarClan see them and smite her.

Her mouth dropped open as she whirled around, first in anger and then in shock. How...how dare Thrushflower. It was wrong to sully the name of a Council member, but even more wrong to threaten to kill a kit. Fawnstep might be traitorous, but she was honest. Birchtail had no doubt that it had happened exactly as she described.

"I...I truly did not know." Was all she could say, fur ruffled in deep disgust and fear. Was Thrushflower also threatening apprentices? Had she beaten Falconpaw herself? Quickly, Birchtail tried to rid herself of such thoughts but they began to grow, feeding on anger and fear and her deep sorrow for how she had failed her son.

Birchtail so longed to agree, to curse Thrushflower, to hurt her, so much that her own violent desires, never before felt, frightened her. "No. No, Fawnstep. I still believe that the regime as a whole is right, but this...this is wrong. You have spoken no more of a sin than I have committed myself. We must fight this, somehow. I don't know how, but we must. For your kits. And...for mine."

[Pyro]

She...she...Birchtail wanted to fight it? Even though she thought the regime was right? Fawnstep moved over to another nest, cleaning it thoroughly before she dared to speak again. Birchtail would help her. But what could they do besides continuing to feed apprentices? Fawnstep wasn't sure she could do anything more illegal than that. It could prove detramental to her kits once they became apprentices. But still...

"If Volepelt is truly as good as you say, perhaps we could talk to him. Surely he would understand." Even as she said it she didn't believe it. Volepelt was at the heart of the regime. He probably wouldn't take kindly to being questioned. But they had to try something nonviolent and legal before...well before anything else.

"But I also think we should...well, maybe we could go hungting sometime. Maybe bring something back for the apprentices. If the whole clan has food, then it can't be wrong to feed them."

If Birchtail was really willing to help, then fawnstep was sure that between the two of them they'd be able to keep all the apprentices fed. Her only concern was the other she-cat's loyalty to the regime. What if Birchtail turned her in? What if the council punished her? Fawnstep did not want her kits to see her like that, bloody and bruised. And honestly, she wasn't quite sure Birchtail would be able overcome her loyalty to really do anything.

"Are you sure you want to do this though?"

[Cloudbat]

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[bg=#121225] "We must hope." She replied firmly. "I don't think he comprehends the full effects of the punishments. They may cleanse spirits but the marks they leave on bodies are too harsh for apprentices. We must show him, as mothers, that we understand these things. He will listen." Her conviction was borne of faith as well as desperation. Birchtail had powerful incentives - guilt was foremost among them. Almost as strong was love. Yes, love for the only family she had, her son. Scorn her though he might, they were all either of them had left. If she did this for him, maybe they could become closer again. "Hunting?" Echoed the long-furred she-cat, amber eyes blank and puzzled. "Oh, right. I'm...I'm not so sure about that, but let's discuss it." I'm not quite ready to go directly against Volepelt, even if he's wrong about something. He may not be Miststar but he is our closest conduit to StarClan right now, and despite our earthly concerns we must not displease our ancestors. After all, Brightnose seemed very...odd, lately, and she wasn't quite sure how in tune with reality the medicine cat was at the moment. "Yes." She answered immediately in response to the ginger queen's answer. "I must at least try. For our sons' sake. Who do you think we should approach first? Volepelt himself or a Council member...excepting Thrushflower, of course? I think Tawnywhisker would listen to us. She's fair."

[Pyro]

"Hope is one of the only things wehave, I suppose." the queen said with a small laugh. "That and our kits to think of. Birchtail sounded so sure...even though Fawnstep knew her to be a devotee (and thus chock full of conviction), she couldn't help but feel a little hopeful herself. Yes, Volepelt would listen. He was not deaf. And he was not blind. He just needed to be shown things from another' perspective. But if he didn't listen, if he would not change things, then they'd be forced to change things themselves. "Of course, hunting would be a last resort, one we probably won't have to take. I'm sure Volepelt will listen, as you say." Talk to a council member? Yes...maybe. Tawnywhisker, perhaps, might be the best one to turn to. Although, Fawnstep was a bit biased in her favor. She'd heard good things about Reedfoot as well, but having never really talked to the she-cat...No, she trusted Tawnywhisker the most. "Let's talk to Tawnywhisker first, and then, if she agrees with us, we can talk to Volepelt. If two mothers and his deputy talk to him, then I'm sure he'll be even more likely to consider changing things." And of course they would except Thrushflower. That murderous she-cat would only force them three steps back and report them for treason to boot. Heavens...even if Volepelt would not change things, would not listen to them, she would have to request that Thrushflower not be given one of her sons. She couldn't bare it. Not without beating the living daylights out of the over-sized witch. "Everything will turn out alright, don't you worry. We just have to remember to be diplomatic and sensible." [bg=c8d1d8][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Cloudbat]

The former queen nodded almost imperceptibly to the present one's remark on hope, as she bent down to finally get the moss off her claw. The shadows made by the dim light and the overarching bush tendrils made it difficult to distinguish the spongy scrag against the gray-brown floor of the nursery, so carefully swept clean of pebbles, seedlings, and (for the most part) bugs.

Her face relaxed slightly; thank goodness Fawnstep saw sense there. "I agree. Kits and apprentices are the future of the Clan, after all, and he will want the best for them."

Has he ever been a father himself, I wonder? I suppose in a way he is the father of our Clan...the father as Miststar is our mother. She nodded, liking her own metaphor.

"I second that notion. She is a reasonable she-cat and her power will aid us." Birchtail didn't even consider the fact that the mottled deputy might not help them; when her mind had gotten ahold of an idea, it latched onto it like a tick to an elder until it was wrenched away, forced to let go.

She warmed to Fawnstep's words, simple though they were they filled her heart with hope. They had to be true. StarClan, let this be your will, she prayed. Bestow wisdom and logic upon me to win this battle for my child. And keep Cinderpaw safe, she added. Wherever she walks, may stars light her path.

Yes, Fawnstep, was her mental reply. One day my daughter will come home, and everything really will be all right.