The mountain was towering, far taller than any tree he'd scale in his own territory. Normally, when he desired to see the moon, the warrior would scale up the rough pine trees to the topmost branches - where he felt like, if only his claws could reach a little further, he could swipe up the entirety of Silverpelt in his paws. This was different though. Far different. The moon seemed untouchable in the late night, nearly hidden by the clouds and just grazing the peak of the earth.
"Amazing, isn't it?" The familiar voice of Honeyleaf stirred him from his thoughts. The pretty medicine cat looked as worn as he was, her wounds dressed in cobwebs and poultices, dirtied from the long trip to Highstones. Even after the long days resting, after the gathering, after everything; he didn't look much better than she did.
Normally, it'd be considered insanity for warriors so injured to even think about leaving the camp; however, the situation... changed. The clan needed him... His clan needed him to do this, as bitter and sickening the thoughts were.
He shouldn't be here. The tom never desired to be leader. He just wanted a safe place for him and his family, somewhere to belong, a place where he wouldn't just survive day to day, but actually live his life, and enjoy every bit of it. Silentstar should never have died. Silverstorm should've still been with them. Dustfang. And Flowerpelt...
Breezetail grit his teeth before letting out a heavy sigh, shooting a glance back at the sweet-colored medicine cat. "Is it time to see them?" He asked. She nodded.
The gray tabby looked forward again, deep into the pitch black tunnel. How cruel of StarClan, he thought with a humorless chuckle, to send them into the dark underground when cats like him were meant for the open sky. Taking in a deep breath, he shared another glance with Honeyleaf before stepping inside. It didn't take long for the Mothermouth to swallow him whole.
The walls and floor were slick and he figured that it must've rained earlier, not that it helped make the crawl more comfortable any. His whiskers brushed up against the cold stone, serving as his only guidance in his terrible darkness.
After sometime, if only for a few moments, he wondered if he'd be walking forever. It was then that he finally saw it, the dim white light up ahead. The tom never smiled though, or quickened his pace. In fact, he hesitated, wondering if this was all even worth it.
Would his warrior ancestors accept him, or would they merely reject him - like so much of the forest had done already? Uncertainty viciously tore away at him, but he knew that Silentstar had chosen him to come here after her death. To honor that choice was the only thing left he could do. He had to try.
Breezetail pushed forward, staring ahead until the cave opened up again to a large cavern, lit up with brilliant rainbows of color. The bright light poured in from the roof, he noticed, reflecting on what he could only assume was the Moonstone. He'd heard many stories told about it, but nothing he recalled did justice to describe how breathtaking it really was, even in such dire times.
"Lay down and touch your nose to it," Honeyleaf mewed softly behind him. He’d almost forgotten she was there. "StarClan will send you sleep."
The gray tabby near faltered as he continued to stare. This was the gate to StarClan. In all honesty, the tom was terrified, but there was something that kept his paws glued in place, some sort of stupid bravery or determination that kept him from running. He wondered if that was a good or bad thing. Nevertheless, the tom padded over to the stone, shooting one last glance at Honeyleaf before laying down and pressing his nose to the crystal. A cold wave of darkness instantly washed over him.
--
'W-Where am I?'
He felt a cold wind ruffle his fur, as bitter as the harshest nights of leaf-bare. He heard it's song as it made the most familiar rustle through old leaves and dead branches. It enticed him to open his eyes. Once he had, his vision was blurry and unclear, but the land he saw was all too familiar. It was SkyClan land. Looking up through the trees, he saw no stars, nor moon in the sky, but there was still an eerie dim light to the clearing. This was his home he could still see, but at the same time, it felt completely strange to him.
The tom rubbed his paws into his eyes, hoping his vision would clear.
"Is this the best that you rogues had to offer us?"
The call came from him behind him. Breezetail was on his feet in an instant, spinning around to face this stranger, but there was nothing there. "Whose there?" The tom shouted back.
The voice went on, "You are weak." It moved all around. "You are worthless." Breezetail flattened his ears, shuffling around trying to pin-point where the words came from. "A disgusting waste of prey."
Each word was a thorn driven into his heart. He held a growl in the back of his throat. "Show yourself, coward!"
Finally, as if on cue, he heard a rustle in the brittle trees above him. "A lawless, savage creature."
The deputy glanced up into the trees, vision finally cleared. What he saw shocked him, throwing him back a step with wide eyes. What he say - or who he saw, was him. This strange cat with the same markings, the same eyes, the same scent; only one thing was different. This cat had a harsh, ghostly leer on his face that chilled him to the bone. The tom glanced around, looking for answers, looking for help, looking for anything - really.
"What is this?" Breezetail muttered, clenching his teeth. "Honeyleaf? Where is StarClan?"
"Oh, your so-called medicine cat didn't tell you. StarClan doesn't accept outsiders." The look-alike scoffed, "It's a shame, really. If it had been Silverstorm who'd come instead of you, there wouldn't have been a problem. With the blood and all." He let out a heavy sigh. "Alas, the last loyal warrior of SkyClan is gone from this world."
He felt his fur bristle. "No, you're wrong." The deputy yowled, "SkyClan has many warriors who all swore an oath! You're looking at one of them!"
The cat in the tree merely laughed. "You're nothing more than a rag-tag of mutts and murderers grouped together playing pretend!" He leaned down, eyes narrowing, smug smile widening. "When the time comes, you'll all be chased out again. Or murdered on the spot. I don't imagine the forest has patience for you much longer."
"Shut up."
"Your friends, your family, your so-called clanmates..."
His claws unsheathed. "Shut up!"
"They'll all disappear, along with you. It's StarClan's will, rogue."
Unable to listen anymore to the bile pouring from the ghost's mouth, Breezetail sprang, letting out caterwaul and aiming to rip his claw's through the doppleganger's pelt; however, the cat's shape disappeared the instant before their bodies met. Letting out a grunt in surprise, the deputy quickly grabbed the large branch with his nails, flipping around and settling firmly on the bark; as he'd done near a million times before.
"Oh, this kittypet thinks he's tough." The dopple laughed, "Fine then, brave little warrior, show me how you fight."
Breezetail narrowed his eyes, staring down the cat, weighing this challenged. This reflection was spiteful, hateful, and mocking - and the deputy wanted to loathe him with all his being, but he simply couldn't. He spoke the same words that the tabby had heard himself everyday, by either other cats or by telling himself. It was always the same. This cat shredded constantly at his honor, at who he wanted to be, who he knew he was deep down.
He could stand it no more.
The tom growled, making no hesitation as he leaped towards the enemy, who disappeared again just under his paws, but Breezetail knew better than to be fooled so simply by now, spinning around on the hard wood and watching as at the look-a-like flew at him. He clung to the tree with his forepaws and ducked, sending the cat back scrambling on the bark. With no time to spare, the warrior spun around, pouncing and nipping at the ghost's pelt, who tried to slip away but found himself clinging to the edge.
With little mercy, Breezetail jumped down, snagging on the cat's pelt and dragging him down with them; the two - for what seemed like several heartbeats - wrestled in the air. The deputy managed to gain control, however, at the last moment; twisting them around and slamming the ghost's body down into the ground.
His strong legs absorbed most of the shock and Breezetail leaped away effortlessly, beginning to circle around as the look-a-like struggled to catch it's breath. At least he was quieter this way. "Whose the pathetic one?" The gray tabby spat.
The dopple shuttered, letting out a weak sound that sounded like he was whimpering. It took a few moments for the SkyClan cat to realize that he was actually laughing. "Stole a few tricks I see." Caterwauling, the other cat chuckled through his leer, getting on his feet and aiming a few well-aimed swipes at Breezetail's face.
He didn't flinch still, nor did he try and hide. Breezetail took the pain, seeing a flash of red against his cheek, but stood strong. He swept in and bit hard on the ghost's shoulder, walling unto his back and digging his claw's into the look-a-like's side. Of course, the enemy fought back, but Breezetail didn't waver. He couldn't feel the pain. The only thing he could feel was the dopple's fur tearing beneath his claws. As he dragged them both down to the ground, he relished in the feeling in his hindclaws, the warm drips of blood dripping from the ghost's soft underbelly.
'I could kill him now and be done with it,' Breezetail thought. Every part of him yearned for it, to silence this cat for good and all the cruel words he carried. The two wrangled across the forest floor. By the time Breezetail had finally pinned the dopple down, claw's to it's throat, he was practically breathless.
The look-a-like choked, struggling for air. "Go ahead. Kill me. Show StarClan of your loyalty. Your worthiness."
For several heartbeats, the forest was eerily silent.
"No," The deputy resolved, huffing and glaring down at the shape beneath him. "Even if I killed you, your words will still always be with me. There's nothing I can do to change that."
The ghost said nothing, narrowing his eyes.
"I don't need to kill you. I've already proven my strength." It was Breezetail's turn to smile now. "Your death would be pointless. Let StarClan take me or reject me for something as stupid as my heritage. Either way, I'm still a loyal SkyClan warrior. I swore my life to protect them; and now I will go home and lead them, nine lives or not. SkyClan needs a leader, and your words will be my strength. I will prove myself and my clan eventually, one way or another."
The look-a-like looked furious as they stared each other down. Breezetail wasn't sure how long they were there, nor exactly when the tom disappeared from under his grasp, his paws falling to the ground. The deputy sniffed, turning back around and seeing the dopple sitting casually a fox-length away. His wounds were completely gone, Breezetail noticed. Looking down quickly, he saw that his were as well.
"How interesting," was all the ghost said before vanishing quickly in a bright light, near as blindingly beautiful as the moonstone itself. The shape of the look-a-like shattered, scattering into the wind.
And he was alone again.
Or so he thought.
In the far distance, he saw the small shapes of many warriors come running in. They came in on the ground, through the trees, all in outstanding numbers at every angle he looked. It didn't take long for them to rush in, nor long for Breezetail to realize that each one of them carried shimmering stars in their pelts, and that he was, in fact, surrounded.
--
He was stuck in the middle of a large circle, being watched by thousands of eyes, every body sitting completely still as a stone, staring him down intensely.
"Welcome, Breezetail." A chorus of voices rose up together around him, all different, and yet one and the same.
All went silent again as a large tom stepped forward out of the crowd. He had a face that the deputy had never seen before, but it seem rang as familiar to him. He was at least twice the tabby’s size with a thick ginger and white pelt, every step taken was bound with pride. As he sat in front of Breezetail, it was easy to see the flare in the cat’s eyes, even past the dark look on his face.
“Greetings, young one.” His voice was deep and formal. “You said that you would prove yourself and others, one way or another.” The warrior blinked, “What did you mean by this?”
The tabby’s heart was pounding, and his mouth had turned dry. "I..." Breezetail found himself faltering on the very first word. How stupid he was being, he thought to himself. He needed to pull himself together, not be gripped by fear at the worst time. These StarClan cats though were intimidating, and he found himself struck by the same anxiety as when he’d first laid eyes on the Moonstone.
Yet, as before, he didn’t flee - nor find any way to hide or give up then. Instead, the thoughts occurred to him that - if he was told it true - these were the same cats that watched over him the moment he joined StarClan. They’d heard his every word and knew his every prayer. He had nothing to hide and he could talk to them like any other cat in the forest, strange or not.
He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know what it truly means to be a warrior,” he said. “The rest of the forest… They swore the same oath when they earned their warrior names, as I did, but they’ve lost the meaning of the words. They claim to be honorable, but still lie, cheat, and steal. They claim to love the code, but choose to ignore it when it suits their interests. They claim to yearn peace, but entertain themselves with violence. We can be above that.” These words were dangerous, he knew, but he only spoke what he believed to be true.
“You’re insulting countless warriors with these words.” The large cat mused lowly. “What makes you so sure of yourself?”
Breezetail lowered his gaze, staring down at his feet. “I’ve seen the same sort of cruelty and selfishness almost my entire life. I’ve experienced it myself more times than I can count, what others are willing to do for themselves. Cats killing each other over dingy fox dens or scraps of crowfood. You’re always alone, always hungry, always afraid. It’s madness. The cats who spit at us don’t know that Hell. They take their lives for granted.” He narrowed his eyes. “Is living amongst a clan purely a birthright? Does my oath mean less than theirs because I was born to a wanderer?”
The cat’s face gave way to little emotion. “SkyClan has always been a family since birth of the clans in the forest. Everything that has made it what it was had been passed down generation by generation over time.” He said, “Every battle, every life, every story… The clan’s techniques and legends are bore through the linage of the SkyClan cats.”
“And I could never carry that same bloodline, right?”
“The clan’s lineage came to an end the day Silverstorm’s blood was spilled into the ground. Whatever remains has seeped into WindClan’s moors. They’re no more. The family is gone.” The words sounded regrettable, but they were firm. “Wouldn’t it be more honorable at this point to let the spirits of SkyClan rest with their pride rather than to try to recreate something great out of nothings?”
The deputy sniffed. “If you truly believed that, then why send Silentstar to find us all in the first place?” He challenged. “Would the ancestors of SkyClan be at peace with their land being taken? Their legacy turning to nothing more than old stories - if even those survived the forest? How is that prideful?” In the tense air, Breezetail allowed himself to do even more daring. He smiled. “After so many moons of SkyClan’s strong reign, I didn’t think you’d fancy being forgotten, Flamestar.”
The ginger tom raised his head a little higher, eyes glinting in interest.
“While I might not be your blood, I still remember everything Silentstar told us. Your stories, your techniques, your greatest battles and warriors; I admire SkyClan’s legacy with every part of my being and only dream to live up to it all.” His voice grew along with his confidence. “The traditions and values all remain. I will teach everything I was taught to my son, and all of the clan’s apprentices, and they will pass it on to their kits, and their kits’ kits. SkyClan can and will survive, I know it.”
The old SkyClan leader said nothing, the end of his tail twitching, before a smile grew slowly unto his face. “I can't say I agree with you completely, but it's clear your heart's in the right place. Perhaps the right choices were made after all.” He mused. “If you know of my leadership, then you know then at the time SkyClan’s biggest woes were caused by outsiders. And now the clan is being saved by them.”
He let out a small breathless chuckle, pulling himself unto his feet and stepping forward. “I hope you’re true to your word, for all our sakes.” He said.
Breezetail near took a step back as Flamestar touched his nose to his.
“With this life I give you nobility.” He said, “Use it well to lead in the ways of your ancestors and of the warrior code.”
He had no idea what to expect in that moment. A sharp pain tore instantly at the deputy’s belly, a piercing pain that felt like fire, spreading slowly, and fiercely throughout his entire body. He wanted to scream, but the sound was caught in his throat. Just when he thought he could take it no longer, it all quickly ebbed away, and he vaguely noticed Flamestar’s shaped disappearing back into the ranks of StarClan.
Brushing past his shape, another cat stepped forward, her walk light and seemingly carefree. Even the look she gave him seemed almost teasing. He’d recognized her almost instantly.
“Silverpool…” The former medicine cat apprentice, and an outsider, just like him. To see her face appeared from the crowd was saddening, but it also brought relief to the tom. Her being here meant that StarClan had never truly rejected them. They’d always had some sort of hope and accepted them as their own, foreigners or not.
“With this life, I give you compassion.” She bent down until their noses touched, eyes shut serenely. “Use it well to care for your clan, and all those who might be in need of your help.”
Breezetail flinched before he even felt it, bracing himself for the worst. There was the sharpest sensation of falling - for how long, he couldn’t be sure - before a sharp pain hit his side, shooting down his legs and up his neck. It was a blinding white pain and left him completely breathless and struggling.
“Good luck.” He thought he saw her whiskers twitched in amusement as she stepped back, a young brown tabby walking past and taking her place.
“You looked like a rugged piece of fresh-kill.” The cat scoffed, ear twitching. “Don’t tell me our valiant leader's broken already? You’re only two lives in.”
He’d recognize that snarky voice almost anywhere. “I’m not done for yet, fox-breath.” Breezetail muttered, pulling himself together and shooting the other tom a small smile.
“You better not be.” Dustfang scoffed, bumping his nose into Breezetail’s rather crudely. “Right. With this life you’ll get bravery. Use it to defend your clan without fear.”
He’d found himself bracing for the worst, but there was no pain to be had, not then anyways. Everything seemed way too still. In fact, Breezetail felt rather bored… and then it hit him. The sudden feeling of claws tearing at him all up and down his body, by two - maybe three cats all at once. Before he had time to react, before he could even think about how to fight back - he was down on the ground, lightheaded and choking on the scent of blood that wasn’t even there, pain rippling through his dazed body.
He realized then what was happening. That was what Dustfang had felt in his last moments. Every cat who was giving him a life, no matter the situation, he was experiencing their deaths. How cruel, he thought.
Breezetail was determined to stand strong again, pulling himself unto his feet and staring down Dustfang’s retreating shape. However much he tried still, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next. A small pure white tom approached, with a limp in his front leg and the same clear blue eyes that he bore.
“Hello, Brother.” The cat purred, pausing just in front of his sibling. “Miss me?”
“Snow.” The deputy shook his head in disbelief. “Yes, everyday. But how - I thought… You died -”
“Before you and mother were found by Silentstar.” Snow finished for him, “Yeah. It was hard, but I found you and followed you both after I died.” He shrugged. “And I ran into StarClan. They’re not as bad as they look.”
The gray tabby said nothing. He was at a loss for words, but it didn’t seem to bother his little brother any, who raised himself up until their noses touched. “With this life, I give you hope. Use it well to always keeps spirits high. There will always be day waiting, even after the darkest nights.”
Breezetail didn’t move this time, shutting his eyes and merely letting the pain consume him. He’d had thought his brother was for good. It was his fault he was dead to start with. He’d wanted to go where the prey seemed to be hiding. He hadn’t considered if the land was claimed or not. It was. And they’d paid the price. Breeze left with an ugly scar on his shoulder and his brother paid with his life. He hissed furiously through his teeth as sharp stabs of pain hit his entire body repeatedly. He was lucky to be alive.
As the pain ebbed away, he had to lick his paw and clean away the tears.
“Keep your head up, Breeze… I mean, Breezetail.” He sounded so happy, so carefree. Wasn’t he angry?
He hadn’t the time to find out. The next warrior was already approaching. She was older and he’d never seen her before, but she still seemed very familiar to him, much like two cats he already knew very well. As she got closer, the strong scent of WindClan on her pelt only confirmed his suspicions.
“With this life, I give you integrity.” She said. Her voice was light and dainty, he thought, like the sweet song of a morning bird. “Use it well to always do what you know is right, no matter the cost.” Her nose brushed lightly against his.
As gentle as the touch was, the life she gave him was excruciating. He felt several sharp stabs to his side as merciless claws tore at his pelt. A heaviness kept him still, unable to move, trapped. He knew in the back of his mind there would be no getting away from this. It was dreadful, he realized, but it wasn’t his death that scared him, it never was. Not even when he felt the sharp fangs pierce through his throat, leaving him to gag on his own warm blood - unseen, but still felt.
As he finally recovered, the she-cat was already gone, the next warrior swiftly approaching.
“You gave up!” He growled.
A familiar feeling of tiredness washed over him. He knew that voice, recognized that anger. “Hello, Silverstorm.” The tabby muttered.
The former deputy gave no effort issue a kind greeting back. “You begged like a kit and let those murderers walk away. Why?” The gray-blue cat demanded.
Breezetail wasn’t in the mood for mere arguments at this point, no matter his feelings on the subject. “What else was I suppose to do?” He spat back.
“Fight!” The tom said instantly, “Like a warrior should’ve. ShadowClan was there. And RiverClan as well. You could’ve driven them out.”
The tabby shook his head, his disapproval of the idea couldn’t have been more clear. “Could I've? You mean to say I should've risked even more lives? Two dead warriors, an elder, and a deputy. Hadn’t SkyClan lost enough already?” He muttered, eyes narrowed. “There was no other option.”
Silverstorm sniffed, turning away, a pained look on his face.
“I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, but I promise - someday, they’ll get what's coming to them.” Breezetail tried to assure the tom. It didn’t seem to work well, but the older cat nodded regardlessly.
“Fine,” was all he said, turning and touching his nose to Breezetail’s. “With this life I give you justice. Use it well as you carry out the code and judge the actions of others.”
Weary. Impatient. Spiteful. Furious. The emotions swept over the gray tabby all at once. He could scent the old poultice on his pelt, the scent of fresh blood filled his nose as every muscle in his body strained, fighting against a large cat before being pinned quickly to the ground. And - like his sister - the sharpest pain struck right through his neck.
For a heartbeat, he wondered why they called it the rogue’s bite. Even amongst rogues, the action was a vile, hated thing; used by only the most cold-blooded of cats.
He was afraid. He got pinned to the ground. He fucking choked it out like Lavenderheart. What the fuck man.
‘Someday, Silverstorm.’ He thought to himself again, ‘You’ll get justice. But not their way. Not with their blood on our claws.’
The next one to approach was a young, familiar face. He’d been much more pampered looking at one time, Breezetail remembered sadly, when he’d stayed with his twolegs. Then he went with them on their journey to the forest and turned thin.
“You should’ve made it there with us, Hawkpaw.” The tom muttered lowly.
At first, the apprentice looked ready to not answer at all, but he finally sighed instead. “Not all of us could be so lucky, I guess. I’m here now, aren’t I?” He said back half-heartedly forcing a small smile and leaning up to touch his nose to Breezetail’s.
“With this life I give you mentoring. Use it well to teach the newest members of your clan.”
It was a terrible way to go, especially for a cat like Hawkpaw, who had his entire life ahead of him. That horrid march through the mountains, the ground was weak and each step was slow and unsettling. Elea had assured them though that this was the quickest and best way to go. Yet they still lost him. The ground gave way and he went tumbling down the large cliffside. Just like that, he disappeared in a matter of moments.
After the feeling of several slams and breaks all over his body, Breezetail wondered how he could even still be standing at this point, his legs shaking furiously as Hawkpaw stepped back amongst the others.
Even in his weakness, he couldn’t help but smile grimly as the eight cat appeared before him. “Flowerpelt.” He mewed, greeting his mother warmly.
A warmness shone in her eyes, pride radiating from all around. She didn’t look as frail as he’d last seen her, in fact, she was as youthful and healthy as he’d ever seen her. It was one of the happiest things he’d ever seen.
“My son, I’m so proud of you.” She purred, leaning forward and touching her nose softly to his. “With this life, I give you love. Use it well to protect those you care about, like a queen protects her kits.”
This feeling was different from the others. A lifetime of emotions came sweeping in, of loving, and losing, more than one time - in different ways, over and over again. Her grief over Snow’s death, her happiness over her grandkits, the fierce determination - the furious will to do everything to protect them.
It all came rushing in at once, along with the sharp pain of the bleeding wound in his side. It all faded away, far more slowly than the others. It left him feeling sick.
When he opened his eyes again, the elder gave him one more smile before turning again and heading back to the ranks of StarClan.
This was it, he told himself. There was only one more life to be had. This time around, Breezetail knew who would be stepping forward to see him. Sure enough, out of the crowd, Silentstar appeared. She was no longer the frail, broken cat that he had last seen her as though. She stood tall and walked with pride, with a great look of wisdom shining in her eyes.
“Breezetail,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’ve left you with so many great burdens to carry.” In that moment, she truly did seem remorseful. “But, I know I’ve made the best choice.”
He didn’t know what to say. Instead of any personal words, he nodded his head and said simply, “Thank you.”
The former leader nodded quietly before stepping forward, touching her nose to his, for the last time. “With this life, I give you perserverance. Use it well to carry yourself and your clan through the longest leaf-bares and the cruelest circumstances. As long as you have the will, you can carry on.”
The feeling was instantly sickening. Grief. Overwhelming grief for everything. A life he used to know, the kits he’d loved, and lost, a failing faith in StarClan, a hopelessness for the future. He truly had no idea how terrible Silentstar had felt in her last days, not until this moment. The old she-cat had died sadly in her sleep.
He swallowed hard when it was over, looking uncertainly up at the she-cat.
She merely nodded. “Don’t let it consume you,” the blue-gray cat muttered before straightening herself out and lifting her head.
“I hail you by your new name, Breezestar. Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of SkyClan.” Her voice echoed throughout the entire forest. “Defend it well; care for young and old, honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity.”
Breezestar.
The name almost sounded strange as it picked up, the cats of StarClan chanted it all around him.
“Breezestar! Breezestar!”
Leader of SkyClan. He’d never imagined it in his wildest dreams.
“Breezestar! Breezestar! Breezestar!”
-
“Breezetail?” He felt a small, uncertain poke in his side. “Are you alright? Tell me you’re alright…”
With a small groan, the gray tabby blinked open his eyes, stretching out his body and pulling himself up. He’d expected it to hurt, but he’d hardly felt a thing. The wounds he carried now seemed like mere scrapes.
“Oh, thank goodness. You were still asleep after the Moonstone stopped shining.” She sighed, “I was afraid something had gone wrong.”
“It was - …” He bit his tongue. How much was he allowed to say? “Fine. It was fine. The name is Breezestar now.”
Her gaze widened. “So, you got your nine lives then?” With a small smile, he nodded. She only grew more curious, despite knowing he couldn’t share a single thing. “That’s amazing…”
Breezestar shrugged the rest of his sickness away, shooting her a tired look before turning back to the small tunnel of the mother mouth. “Come on, lets go home.”
______________________________________
