Darkest Night

In the days since rescuing Frecklewish, they had trudged through the relentless rain. And yet, despite the dismal weather, Violetpaw’s heart had been light. Fidgetpaw and Frecklewish had shared stories, Mintfur and Nettlesplash joining in. Fringepaw and Nectarpaw had gradually lost their shyness, and they felt like denmates already. Their spirits had lifted with every paw step. Their excitement at seeing the land beyond the gorge was infectious. Even Gravelpaw and Palepaw were complaining less. Violetpaw couldn’t wait to show them around SkyClan’s new territory.

Molewhisker seemed almost more like a Clanmate than Sparrowpelt or Harrybrook. He shared his prey, and he was as protective of the apprentices as any of SkyClan’s warriors. When Nectarpaw had wandered too close to a Twoleg patrol, he had rushed to shoo her away.

Rabbitleap had stayed close to Violetpaw, training her as they traveled without ever being bossy. He’d hunted beside her, gently offering advice on stalking techniques and scent trails. Blossomheart and Hawkwing had stuck close to Cherrytail and Cloudmist. They were delighted that their kin had decided to leave Barley’s farm and travel to SkyClan’s new territory.

Violetpaw remembered how nervous Hawkwing had been as they’d approached Barley’s farm just a quarter of a moon earlier. He hadn’t said anything, but she’d been able to read anxiety in the stiffness of his tail and the way his ears twitched. What if his mother and sister had chosen to stay with Barley? He would have had to make his new home beside the lake without them.

They had arrived at Barley’s farm the morning after Frecklewish’s rescue, having traveled through a rainy night. The shelter and warmth of the barn had felt like a blessing from StarClan, and Barley had organized the hungry party into hunting patrols while Hawkwing faced Cloudmist and Cherrytail.

He hadn’t needed to speak. They had met his hopeful gaze with round, anxious eyes. Violetpaw could see from the quiver along his spine that he thought for a moment that they were going to tell him they wanted to stay on the farm. But Cherrytail had stepped forward and touched muzzles with her son.

“We’re coming with you.”

Her words seemed to lift a weight from Hawkwing’s shoulders. Purring, he wove around them, promising that they had made the right decision and would never regret moving to SkyClan’s new territory.

Now, days later, as they trekked along another sweeping hillside, the lake glittered on the horizon.

“Look!” Violetpaw saw the water first, sparkling in the dying rays of evening sun.

Nectarpaw bounced excitedly beside her. “Is that it?”

“What?” Gravelpaw pushed between them, craning his neck.

“The lake! Over there.” Violetpaw nodded with her muzzle. It looked wide even from here, stretching between hillside and forest. She felt the tug of home and wondered how Twigpaw was doing. It must have felt strange to be left alone in SkyClan. Violetpaw wondered again why Twigpaw had stayed behind. Perhaps she was hoping to show Leafstar that she was a loyal Clanmate. Violetpaw knew how much Twigpaw enjoyed the praise of older cats. I guess that is just her way of fitting in. Violetpaw understood her sister’s need to be accepted. Didn’t I try to persuade ShadowClan to accept me as one of their own? And the rogues. In the end, Needletail had been the only ShadowClan cat to treat her like kin. Violetpaw felt the familiar pang of grief. Needletail hadn’t visited her since they’d reached the gorge. She must be mad at me.

Palepaw interrupted her thoughts. “Where is our new camp?”

Violetpaw stretched her nose toward the dark trees rising to one side of the lake. “Do you see those pines?”

Fringepaw climbed the verge beside the rabbit trail they were following. “I see them!”

“Where?” Palepaw pushed alongside her sister.

“Over there!” Fringepaw mewed eagerly.

Gravelpaw frowned. “Is the camp in a forest?”

“It must be dark all the time.” Palepaw glanced anxiously at Violetpaw.

“The camp’s not far from the lakeshore,” Violetpaw told her. “And living in a forest is great. It’s sheltered and there’s always prey.”

“There was always prey by the gorge,” Gravelpaw told her. “And there was a stream to drink from.”

“There’s a stream in the new camp,” Violetpaw mewed.

Mintfur, who was a few tail-lengths ahead with Nettlesplash and Rabbitleap, glanced over her shoulder. “I hope it hasn’t flooded.”

Violetpaw’s pelt prickled anxiously. What if it had? What if the camp had been washed away while they were gone?

Behind her, Hawkwing sniffed casually. “That stream will never flood.” He was padding between Cloudmist and Cherrytail, while Molewhisker and Blossomheart flanked them. “The forest floor is too mossy. Rain can soak away easily. And there are channels that drain water toward the lake.”

Gravelpaw’s gaze was fixed on the horizon. “How long before we get there?”