and we will come back home; home again (OPEN return topic!)

Stormdance could hardly believe it. Were it not for the sharp pain that reverberated through him when he put down weight on his left side, Stormdance would be half convinced this was just a dream, a working of his desperate imagination. But it was no dream. They had found their missing clanmates, or at least most of them, and they were all going home together. Worry still ached in Stormdance’s chest for Sandyshell, but for the most part, Stormdance felt the most incredible sense of intoxicating relief he’d ever felt.

More than once as he walked alongside the rest of the party, Stormdance sent up prayers of gratitude to Starclan for showing them the way to their missing clanmates. Finally, his clan would feel whole again. He had missed all of them so much.

As adrenaline drained out of his body, Stormdance found himself leaning on Rowanpaw for support, but a smile still lingered on his face as he talked to his little brother for the first time in moons. He’s sure he was pestering the younger tom, but he couldn’t find it in himself to mind. He filled in Rowanpaw and anyone else who listened in all that had happened that he could think of over the moons they were gone, from the mundane to the dramatic. He was speaking softly, but the mixture of emotions he was feeling still leaked into his voice.

The sight of the camp drew a huge smile on the gray tom’s face, and the smile only grew at Perchstar’s announcement. He nudged Rowanpaw encouragingly towards Poppyshine, though he was sure that his apprentice needed no such encouragement. He straightened himself up onto his own paws. The sight of the camp in mild disarray with goose feathers everywhere did make his heart skip a beat but no one was severely injured, and Stormdance relaxed again. When Perchstar looked back at their haggard party, Stormdance sent her a smile so wide it made his face hurt.

After everyone began racing towards their runions, Stormdance took a deep breath and limped his way over to Mallardstep. He knew without being told he would need to have his injuries looked at, and as much as he wanted to he wasn’t in much shape to help treat Sandyshell’s either. He found Brookstone on his way there, and he paused to briefly press his cheek to hers. “They’re home,” He murmured, echoing Perchstar’s earlier sentiment. Taking in Brookstone’s state, seeing some treated injuries and dried blood, he added with a spark of worry in his eyes, “Are you alright?”

The battle was over, which meant that Sunkit was allowed out of the nursery again (thank Starclan for that! He was going insane!) He was quick to join his clanmates after the geese flew off, alternating between silently rubbing against Twistpool, running up to Brookstone to tell her how cool she was in the battle, and speaking to Rookkit and Larkkit while pacing in circles around the former.

And then Perchstar and a whole gathering of cats came in, and Sunkit’s face lit up. The missing cats! That meant his parents too, right? Tail held high, Sunkit raced over to the scattering group to look, not only for his own parents but for Rookkit and Larkkit’s father too. The party wasn’t that big, so it didn’t take long for Sunkit to ascertain that he could not in fact see those familiar faces.

Quickly his smile began to dim, his tail lowering. He peered at the entrance, leaning towards it to try and determine if they were just lagging behind but…after a few minutes, it became apparent that they weren’t there at all. Sunkit sat back heavily, claws digging into the ground in frustration.

Rowanpaw

RiverClan looked so different in leaf-bare. That was one of the first things Rowanpaw had noticed as Perchstar led them away from the lingering chaos at Fourtrees. It made him feel... strange, and worked in tandem with his concern for the wounded to dampen his bright spirits. Every step they took felt familiar under his paws. Even blanketed in snow, the open territory was known to his heart, and that alone was an immense comfort. And yet... and yet. There was something to it that disconcerted him. It was such a jarring picture from the way he had last seen RiverClan, Rowanpaw almost wondered if he had been led to the right place, or if this was not just a particularly long and realistic dream. But no, he knew that patch of reeds, even if they were brittle with frost; he knew that small, distant crowd of trees; he knew that paw-sized pool, knew a stretch of the riverbank where he'd first learned to fish. So, he could not have been led astray. And the voices of his Clanmates– his family –around him, the gentle press of Stormdance against his side, was enough to convince him it was not a dream, either.

Why, then, did he feel so disconnected from it?

Shuddering the feeling away, Rowanpaw forced himself out of his thoughts and instead focused on listening to his brother and balancing out the fresh limp. Though he could see it just by looking at the cats walking with them, it still sent a jolt of surprise through Rowanpaw to hear how many RiverClan had lost to the twolegs... and how many of them had been his family. He did not want to think about that much, either. He could only imagine how stressed and frightened Poppyshine would have been. The thought of seeing her again in moments did put a small bounce back in his step, though. Stormdance also mentioned that Sandyshell had earned her name, seemingly shortly after he was taken. But even that he could not dwell on, because hardly a fox-length away she was stretched between Perchstar and Sprucebark, barely conscious- if at all.

Rowanpaw's ears had lowered, but he smiled easily and chattered quietly along. He was, truly, happy to be home. More than happy: a more extreme degree, an elation he couldn't quite put words to. But the cold ground underpaw had seeped its way into his chest.

But when they reached camp, the chill in him was put out, even if it was only momentary. Though the clearing was littered with stray fluff and goose feathers, speckles of blood, and snowmelt collected on top of the sand... It still looked like camp. It was not such a shock as walking through the territory was. There were small changes, dens rebuilt and repaired with new or different reedstalks and foliage, but... it was camp. And when he looked across the clearing, he saw Hawkshriek... and right beside him, Poppyshine.

The rush Rowanpaw had felt on being released from his cage hit him again, and awe locked his legs. He lingered long enough to hear Perchstar's words, for Minksplash to beat him in racing over to their mother. A nudge from Stormdance almost sent him bolting across the clearing; he'd gotten half into a stride before he paused, turning to look fully at Perchstar for the first time since he'd seen her again. "I have missed you too," he mewed quietly. Then without even a heartbeat for her to respond he tore off, bell ringing loud with his hurry.

He cleared the distance between them in an instant, offering a brief smile to Hawkshriek as he passed, and crashed into Poppyshine's other side before she could be bowled over by Minksplash entirely. Immediately, he shoved his muzzle against her neck, pushing himself as close to her as he physically could. She, too, smelled simply of home. Of warmth and comfort and of RiverClan, of Poppyshine. His earlier concerns were forgotten, or they would be while he remained pressed against her. He could be nowhere else but home if she was here. While his sister sobbed opposite him, Rowanpaw found himself laughing into Poppyshine's fur. Warm and genuine, until he sputtered and choked a few beats in. Tears had suddenly filled his eyes and his throat closed tight. It did not really feel like he was crying. Even as tears wetted his and his mother's fur, he continued to laugh, breathless and strained as it was. He could do nothing else but laugh and cry together, so overwhelmed with joy and affection as he was. "Mama," he echoed Minksplash, voice trembling through the mixed displays of emotion. He felt senseless with glee, and careless of who saw him act so. "Mama. You are here. We are here. I missed you. I missed you."

Rookkit

The geese had been chased off only moments ago. Rookkit was as grateful for that as they were resentful of it. They did not exactly want to participate, but they were not fond of Twistpool corralling them in the nursery so gruffly. They did not see why they could not join in the fighting, either. They were still a kit by name, but they had long outgrown the nursery. They were perfectly capable of defending themself against a goose. And besides, their camp was being attacked: why should they not participate in its defense? But they had not argued. Rookkit remained quietly at Larkkit's side while the fighting continued beyond the walls, hoping to ease his some of his ire by staying near to him.

Sunkit had bolted outside as soon as the birds were chased away. Rookkit had crept to the entrance of the nursery to look over what was left of the battle– and to entertain Sunkit briefly when he came by to jog circles around him or chatter at Larkkit –but they tried to stay close to their brother. They had just been about to settle at his side when Perchstar's rousing call made their ears turn backwards. "The missing cats are returned," they echoed to their brother. A rare excitement made their paws knead the soft nest they stood on. They did not say as much, but they hoped the urging was clear to Larkkit. Touching their nose briefly to Larkkit's ear, Rookkit turned and strode out of the nursery.

Indeed, the missing cats had returned. Perchstar had come back to camp with an entire band, some of them faces Rookkit was not sure he had ever seen before. But as he looked among them once, twice, thrice... looked again a fourth time, fifth, just to be sure, he did not see his father among them. Not Sunkit's family, either. His ears drooped and his chest tightened with the realization. That did not make sense... if RiverClan's lost had returned, why were their families not among them?

Rookkit felt nauseous, and cold. It was a new feeling. Without looking back into the den, he called, "Larkkit. Come outside?" Larkkit could make sense of this. He would have a reasonable explanation, something other than they had been abandoned or had not even been brought to Fourtrees to begin with. Or... maybe that was the reasonable explanation. Rookkit did not want to hear that, though. Hackles rising, Rookkit was a little eased to see Sunkit sitting not far away. Padding over, they sat down carefully at his side, leaning into his shoulder. Their mouth parted briefly, but they could not manage the usual hope they held onto right then. Despite a sharp huff through their nose, Rookkit remained otherwise silent, simply staring past the entrance of camp in hopes there were more cats following behind.

Poppyshine

Poppyshine had the camp cleaned after the battle and any injured cats—herself included—got attention from Mallardstep. She had then busied herself speaking with several of the cats, just so she did not allow her mind to settle too long on worries that she could not control. She wondered if the vision that Mallardstep had been a larger issue, one that required more than just Perchstar and Stormdance to take care of. If something bigger happened and they needed more cats with them…No, no. She shook her head and only continued to busy herself.

Then, she heard Perchstar’s familiar calls.

Poppyshine looked up from where she was organizing the fresh kill pile in the snow. Her eyes found them immediately; it was hard to miss the small horde of cats entering their camp. Perchstar led the group, but several quickly moved ahead of her, aiming straight for Poppyshine. Her ears perked, her tail flicked back and forth. She recognized that russet pelt; the golden fur behind her; those shy eyes; she recognized all of these cats.

Don’t you see? You simply had to have faith.

Poppyshine did not fight to keep herself upright when Minksplash crashed into her. The impact knocked a sob out of Poppyshine and then it immediately turned into a purr. She snuggled Minksplash against her as mother and daughter rolled in the snow. “Minksplash!” she whimpered, voice full of love and longing. She pulled Minksplash against her tightly, like a kit to a queen’s warms. She licked along her daughter’s head. There was the vaguest thought in the back of her mind that her daughter smelled different, oh she had changed in some way, but there was no mistaking her. Tears wetted Poppyshine’s fur as she smothered her daughter in so much love that Poppyshine’s heart hurt. She was crying and laughing and something in between. “I missed you, oh my sweet baby, you’re home!”

Her gaze lifted at the next cat to meet her side. Fresh tears entered her eyes. She knew the cat before her, of course, but he had grown When he was taken, he was just under her height, still fighting against the small size of an apprentice. And now here he was, easily taller than her, with thick fur that was in need of a cleaning from fresh tongues. Poppyshine lifted to her paws, not pushing Minksplash away but just needing to stand so she could get closer to Rowanpaw’s height. Her heart twisted at the sight of the scar running across his muzzle, which took her attention for but a moment before her gaze returned to his beautiful green eyes. More tears tracked down her cheeks and she pressed her forehead to his, straining on her toes to reach. She closed her eyes and purred. “Oh how you’ve grown, Rowan,” she whispered in a voice as wet with tears as the river was high. He reminded her so much of Rushtalon now, with that larger build. When she heard a tinkle of metal as he shifted, she looked and saw the stubborn collar that Rowanpaw could not remove before arriving back home. She reached one paw up to touch it gently. “We’ll have to get this off of you…I’m so proud of you for what you endured. I missed you terribly.” Poppyshine smiled at him again and licked along his face. Oh, how she wanted to snuggle and groom all of her children.

And the next; a beautiful cat and beloved friend who she had missed through this toughest of times. Poppyshine pressed her cheek to hers and rumbled, “Kitespring! I am so glad you are home. I was so worried about you.” Kitespring was the only friend from her childhood that she had left. With Kitespring taken, a despairing part of her had believed that that would be it; no one else her age from her apprenticeship would be left. But Kitespring had returned despite everything. She’d missed her dear friend, and the quiet evenings they would spend with one another. Now they could resume again.

Her attention was pulled yet again by another voice. Her other son Sprucebark, which made her heart swell—and then immediately it cracked at seeing the cat that he gently laid on the ground. The cheer in his expression made her believe that Sandyshell was not dead, which was the only solace she had as he approached. Still, she worried. Mallardstep would attend to her without a doubt, but she needed to check on her too. For the moment, she allowed herself to purr and groom Sprucebark’s face when he approached. The terror at not being able to help her son when he was snatched up in one of the twoleg traps began to fade away for the moment, replaced instead by the relief that he was home. “Sprucebark, thank the stars you’re home.”

While Poppyshine pressed up against Sprucebark and the rest of her family, she looked to Perchstar and met her gaze, giving her the biggest smile. Poppyshine wanted to cry and yell and thank Perchstar over and over again. She would certainly do the latter later, when she had finished her reunion with all of her children and things were orderly once more. Same with Stormdance, who she saw retreat to speak with Brookstone. She was more grateful for them than she would ever be able to express. She saw Sootspirit lingering as well, and she would greet him too when things were not quite so overwhelming.

“One moment darlings,” she said to her children and Kitespring. She gave them each a quick lip and slipped past them to Sandyshell. She could not resist checking on her daughter; her fears would overwhelm her in this happy moment otherwise.

There was dried blood on her daughter’s beautiful pale pelt, but when she drew closer, she confirmed that she was breathing. Poppyshine released a shaky breath and lowered to the ground to press her face into her daughter’s pelt. Little Sandy, most nervous of all her children—Poppyshine was grateful that she was back, though her injury worried Poppyshine beyond words.

Do not let your grief overwhelm a happy moment, she reminded herself quietly. When she wakes, you can love her all the same.

Poppyshine lifted her face again after a moment. “Mallardstep, please take good care of her and ensure her recovery,” she murmured. When it was clear that Mallardstep could handle bringing Sandyshell into the medicine den, Poppyshine’s gaze still lingered for just a moment, watching her be taken. Then she took a deep breath and expelled her worries—at least for the moment. She turned back to the group that had gathered around her before and she bounded back to them.

“I’m so grateful you’re home,” she whimpered to all of them. Her legs suddenly felt weaker, like she had just completed a trek around the forest. Tears wetted her cheeks once more. Slowly Poppyshine lowered to the ground and her tears traced silently down her face. Her children were home. Kitespring was home. RiverClan felt closer to whole again…There was a part of her that noted the absence of Reedpaw and Olivepaw, who had both disappeared at different times during the tragedies of the forest. She had hoped that they would return as well, having been found along with the rest…their absence made her fear the worst. If they were to never return…

“Make your grieving easy, and don't linger too long…I'm more concerned about the living.”

Poppyshine lifted her face to look back at her family and her face split into a smile so wide that it hurt. Even with losses, so many of her children were home. Hawkshriek, Sootspirit, Sprucebark, Minksplash, Sandyshell, Rowanpaw, and her friend Kitespring as well…Though some were still missing, and their loss will ache in Poppyshine’s heart always, it did not negate the return of seven cats she thought would be gone forever. Poppyshine could not shed sad tears because of that.

“I’m so grateful you’re all home,” Poppyshine repeated with a sob. She would hold them close, groom them and keep them warm; protect them from danger as best she could. Them, and all the rest of RiverClan. Her dearest family…for the moment, Poppyshine felt warmer than she felt on even the hottest day of greenleaf.

Larkkit

Larkkit heard the call about the cats’ return outside, but he did not rise from where he was curled up in the nursery. He had watched curiously during the fight, but once it was over, he found a place comfortable. They would remain protective over the kits, he was sure. And then—the call of return. He had already, long ago, accepted the fact that his father was lost to them. This call of returned cats—Larkkit was already convinced, and so did not need to rouse and check that their father was not among their ranks. He knew. And now…Rookkit would know as well.

He heard his sibling’s echo, and they also heard the excitement in their voice, however faint. Larkkit opened their eyes and still did not stand. Any moment now, it would click…given the eagerness in Rookkit’s voice, Larkkit knew that it would hurt. His sibling was going to need him. Larkkit wished that he could spare them from this pain, he really did…but he hoped that Rookkit would finally understand. Perhaps then they could both move forward and become apprentices. They could start living again.

Finally, Larkkit rose to his paws at Rookkit’s call. Now, he would be there to aid Rookkit through the truth. Now, things could take on a new normal.

He stopped at the entrance of the nursery. Rookkit’s back was to him. As expected, their father was not among the group currently smothering the deputy. He knew this would happen. But Rookkit was not there at the entrance, awaiting someone to lean against them and assure them of reality. Instead, they sat by a familiar, infuriating, pesky, inane yellow pelt. That Sunkit…even in his sibling’s worst moment of grief, when truth had to come down on them both, it was Sunkit that Rookkit sat by. Even now, it was still him.

Larkkit huffed and approached. He remained standing on Rookkit’s other side. The gentler words he had been trying to rehearse in his head did not come to his tongue. Instead he said flatly, “It is as I told you before. I’m sorry that it turned out to be the truth.” He spoke only to Rookkit, but it was true of Sunkit as well. They were both fools, to be holding onto this hope. Larkkit knew the truth from the start. Larkkit was right. The foolish hopes of a cat like Sunkit had no place in this real world.