Darkest Night

Fidgetpaw didn’t reply. He was staring happily at Hawkwing. “You came. I dreamed you would. I’ve been waiting for days.” He turned to Blossomheart and Rabbitleap. “It’s great to see you all.”

Hawkwing thrust his muzzle against Fidgetpaw’s cheek, purring loudly. “You escaped!”

Fidgetpaw joined the purring as Blossomheart and Rabbitleap wound around him. “Of course I escaped. You didn’t think Twolegs could hold me for long, did you?”

“I’m so sorry we couldn’t save you.” Emotion thickened Hawkwing’s mew. Violetpaw heard guilt there. “There was nothing we could do.”

Fidgetpaw blinked at him. “I know,” he mewed solemnly. “It’s okay.”

Hawkwing’s stiffness seemed to soften as though a weight had been lifted from him. He glanced at Violetpaw. “Twolegs caught Fidgetpaw and took him away,” he explained. “I thought I’d never see him again. He was SkyClan’s medicine-cat apprentice.”

Paws scrabbled below them. Violetpaw turned, ears twitching, as a gray tabby she-cat and a pale brown tom climbed out of the gorge and gasped, their eyes landing on Hawkwing. Two young cats—one black, one brown—jumped up behind them.

“Is it really you?” asked the pale brown tom.

Palepaw blinked at them. “We thought these cats were intruders.” She puffed out her chest. “But Fidgetpaw won’t let us drive them off.”

“He says they’re SkyClan cats,” Gravelpaw grunted.

“They are indeed,” whispered the gray tabby she-cat, moving forward. “Blossomheart! Hawkwing!”

Hawkwing dipped his head to the she-cat. “Mintfur.” His eyes shone in the dying sunlight. “It’s good to see you.”

Mintfur nodded, seeming to try to compose herself, as Blossomheart blinked happily at the pale brown tom. “You look well, Nettlesplash.”

“So do you.” Nettlesplash beckoned the two young cats forward with his tail. “These are our kits, Nectarpaw and Fringepaw.” He nodded to Palepaw and Gravelpaw. “It looks like you’ve already met the rest of our litter.”

Mintfur paced around Hawkwing’s patrol. She stopped beside Molewhisker, her nose twitching. “And you are? Your scent is strange.”

Molewhisker nodded politely. “I’m ThunderClan,” he explained. “I came to show them the way.”

“And who’s this?” Nettlesplash blinked kindly at Violetpaw.

Violetpaw moved closer to Hawkwing, feeling suddenly shy. “I’m Violetpaw.”

“She’s my kit.” Hawkwing licked her head. “I have another kit too, Twigpaw. She stayed beside the lake.”

Mintfur lifted her tail. “Where’s Pebble—”

Violetpaw interrupted her. “Pebbleshine died when Twigpaw and I were kits,” she mewed quickly. She wanted to save Hawkwing from having to tell the story again.

“I’m sorry.” Mintfur locked gazes with Hawkwing, compassion filling her round, blue eyes. “We have all lost so much. But to lose someone so precious must be hard.”

Violetpaw’s throat tightened with emotion as Hawkwing answered.

“It was. But in losing Pebbleshine, I found my kits and a new home.”

“Have you traveled far?” Nettlesplash seemed eager to move the conversation on.

“We’ve walked for a quarter moon,” Hawkwing told him.

“You must be tired,” Nettlesplash meowed. “Come and rest in the gorge. The fresh-kill pile is full.”

Violetpaw followed her father as the gorge cats led them down a steep trail that wound down the side of the narrow canyon. She shivered as they padded from evening sunlight into violet shadow. But as the trail reached the bottom, Nettlesplash headed along the stream and showed the way into a sheltered hollow beside it, where the stone still held the day’s warmth. Spiky bushes jutted from the cliffs above it, shielding the space from the chilly evening air. A pile of prey lay at one end.

“This is where we sleep now,” Mintfur told them.

Hawkwing looked up at holes in the sides of the gorge. “Don’t you use the caves?” he asked in surprise.

“There are so few of us left.” Mintfur watched her kits follow Rabbitleap, Blossomheart, and Molewhisker into the hollow.

Fidgetpaw padded in last. “It feels safer to stay together. We post a guard while we sleep,” he mewed.

“Foxes come at night,” Gravelpaw added.

Violetpaw tried to imagine how the gorge had been when it was home to a whole Clan. She imagined cats patrolling the top and slipping in and out of the caves and following the narrow paths around its sides. Where had Hawkwing slept when he was an apprentice? She pictured him practicing battle moves beside the stream. It would have been a fun place to grow up. She wished Twigpaw were here to see it.

Hawkwing was gazing around the stone walls; she wondered if he was remembering. He blinked at Mintfur. “Why have you stayed?”

“Where else could we go?” she answered.

Fidgetpaw padded forward. “We wanted to rebuild the Clan, but surviving with so few warriors is hard.”

Mintfur and Nettlesplash exchanged glances. “And it’s difficult to trust new cats,” Nettlesplash admitted. “After Darktail.”