[Swept Away Topic] Bridging the Gap

Salmonkit had raced ahead. Many warriors had told him not to, but they were so weary they just let him do it. "Hey, look! A bridge!" Excited, the grey RiverClan kit took off, racing over stones and leaping onto the railing. "I'm the leader now!" He was almost six moons, and a leader! Ha! How exciting.

Lynxtail padded at the front of the group, his peculiar green eyes bright. "Keep up, Strom!" He purred, nudging the tom. Mintwhisker was irritable and his father was tired- Lynxtail couldn't stand to see everyone with such a sober expression. Morale had to be kept up, and it had been ages since he'd teased someone. His siblings were usually there, but ever since they'd gone missing, everything had become... empty. He hated feeling powerless, unable to find Copperheart and Batpaw or aid the group in moving forward. The only way he could help was by making a fool of himself. He knew that his antics were beginning to get on some more serious cats' nerves, but he was terrified that if he stopped thinking of jokes to make, his mind would turn to where his siblings were now, if they were safe, hungry, if they were even alive in the first place...
Argh! The golden-brown tom felt his steps falter and angrily pushed the thought aside. No, no, no... His friends needed some cheering up. And what better way to do it than with a little distraction? "Mothpaw!" He called, turning over his shoulder and scanning the crowd for her familiar gray pelt. "Or is is Slowpaw- c'mon, shortlegs, or we'll leave you behind!"

The tabby tom's ears twitched as he half-ran past his father, slowing his gait for a moment so he could fall into step with the golden Thunderclanner. "We're nearly there, Father!" He chirped, nudging Leopardstar's shoulder. Lynxtail hesitated for just a moment, allowing himself a second of respite from all the constant worry and correction before grinning and falling behind again. His tufted ears twitched as a forlorn face caught his eye. Not on his watch! "Hey, why so sad?" The short-tailed tom fell into step beside the glum cat. "Just imagine getting into camp, the fresh-kill pile full of-"
A familiar feeling nearly made him stop in his tracks. "What in Starclan's name...?" His heart began to hammer, his breathing growing faster, the fur rising on the name of his neck. It was unmistakeable. Lynxtail pushed unceremoniously to the very front of the traveling group, feeling dazed. Ahead was a strange Twoleg device that the tabby warrior stepped onto without hesitation. If he was right, if whatever feeling he felt was true, then his family was just on the other side.

Mothpaw, hearing her name called by a familiar voice, bounded forward to the source at the front of the group. "Slowpaw? Speak for yourself, Lynxtail!" the black tabby replied, racing ahead with a playful expression. Everyone around her was tired and irritable, and she was starting to feel a bit sad herself, but she was going to keep a smile on her face no matter what happened. There were kits and younger apprentices here, after all, and she wanted to set a positive example for them - and, admittedly, for herself.

(She wasn't sure yet what she'd do without her family, if they were really gone, but she had to try to keep her spirits up regardless.)

She was pulled out of those thoughts, though, by everyone around her coming to a halt. Rather than stop in her tracks, though, the speed she'd built up while running ahead made her slide forward a few more pawsteps. "Oof-- Huh?" An unfamiliar Twoleg thing was before her, and she stared at it for just a moment, wondering if she should go any further. Lynxtail stepping onto it, though, was the only encouragement she needed to follow in his pawsteps. Never mind that the Twolegplace was far behind them now, she'd trust him (and any of the other cats they were with then, really) with just about anything, up to and including her life.

(A small, nagging thought at the back of her mind reminded her she'd go back to only seeing them sometimes once they returned home. She tried not to think about that.)

Mosspaw had padded heavily along with the rest of the group, keeping her paws moving numbly one in front of the other just fast enough to not slow everyone down. She'd hardly spoken or eaten in the travels to get here, and her nights were filled with horrible dreams of the dog attack and... She swallowed hard against the lump that formed in her throat, pushing the thought from her mind. Whenever those dreams woke her, she would step away from the rest of the group and stare at the distant stars, thinking over the message she had received in her dream with the StarClan cat. She couldn't help but wish that one of her ancestors could walk her dreams once more and offer guidance, but she wasn't a special cat. She was just another apprentice, one who would have to figure out the turmoil in her heart alone.

Her ears pricked up as she noticed the RiverClan kit had run ahead, leaping onto the rail of a weird wooden twoleg structure that spanned across the water. Watching the kit out of the corner of her eye just in case, she raised her nose into the air and took a deep breath. At first there was nothing new, notably no scents of twolegs or their dogs. But just as she stopped, the wind picked up, carrying the smell of a large group of cats towards her. Freezing midstep, she opened her mouth to get a better taste of the scents, and though they weren't quite right, similar to how the group she was with, she could get hints of the individual clan scents coming from the other side.

She trotted up to Flintfang and Falconwing, nudging the former lightly in the shoulder with her nose. Her voice cracked as she started to speak from not using it, but she was able to croak out reasonably understandable words. "I-I smell other cats... I think there's clan scents among them..." She finished with a cough, her throat sore from exhaustion. Her ears were pricked, but her tail still dragged across the ground under paw, expressionless eyes searching for movement on the other side of the twoleg structure.

---

Dapplepaw had never known a home beyond the lake. She had been born here, and felt conflicted about leaving to go somewhere she had never been before. One of the first cats she had ever known, Flurryshine, had stayed behind at the makeshift camp, along with her mother and who she had come to learn was her true father, although having never met him she wasn't sure how to feel about him. She still could not shake the feeling that there was something more, and her mind kept travelling back to that sunny day where Scorchclaw spoke to her and her sister about consciousness and death and stars. Every time the thought crossed her mind, she pushed it aside with a shake of her head. No, that couldn't be it. Her birth mother... Looking to the queen Thornbriar, she couldn't help but consider Thornbriar a mother. She had been the one to feed and care for them during their birth mother's slumber. She felt she should be more sad about leaving them all behind, but between the assurance to herself that they would come when they were able and that those who had been around were still there, she wasn't too heartbroken. However much the thoughts crossed her mind though, her adventurous spirit and eager personality had been quick to push it aside as the journey proceeded, introducing her to all kinds of new places and things. She wasn't sure what exactly the future held, but so long as she got to stay with her sister, Otterpaw, her brother Rowankit, Wasppaw, Magpiepaw, and Thornbriar and Scorchclaw, she was content. Walking alongside her sister, she stopped at the strange thing that crossed over the water. Reaching out a tentative paw, she placed it on the wood of the thing, pushing her weight down to see what happened. Looking for Scorchclaw, she mewed. "What is this thing?" Stepping onto the structure fully, she looked over the raised sides at the water below in awe for a moment, before sound at the other side of the bridge caught her attention and she turned, unsure of what to expect to see.

Sunpaw shook her head. She smelled the other cats. She got excited to see her family, but she realized they were all dead or abandoned her. ”Of course you smell them we all do! Sunpaw snapped at her friends. She sat on her hind legs, in an awkward way. Lightstep has helped her find comfortable positions and in this position she could access her legs. She angrily glanced up at the other cats, waiting for them to do something. She began to furiously lap at her hind leg, keeping an eye on them.

She had made the trip with minimal help, refusing nearly all of it. Her body was pleading for her to stop. She was exhausted and hungry. Miserable and in pain. But her eyes showed with dull determination. She didn’t care about her health and kept trying to push herself and offered to stay guard while the other cats slept. Of course no one let her so she stayed up all night and stood guard in the middle of the sleeping cats. She didn’t know it but by refusing help she’s killing herself.

Over on the east side of the river, Ravenpaw hadn’t let a single are-we-there-yet slip thus far as he plodded along beside Brookclover. In fact, he’d spent most of the walk in silence. Though his injuries—a matched pair of bumps well-hidden by his dark, unkempt fur—were nothing compared to his shoremates’, pushing through them was harder than he had imagined. As if that wasn’t inconvenient enough, his paws, having never covered this much ground at once, had already begun to hurt. Home wasn’t even in sight… At least he wasn’t the only cat limping.

The battle in the clearing had rattled them all. Like an animal worrying at an old wound, Ravenpaw’s mind kept returning to growls, yelps, the sight of two bloodied figures in the dirt. He honestly didn't care about the dog as long as it wouldn't be bothering them again, and he hadn’t known Lightstep beyond spotting him once at a meeting and again when they were preparing to leave; still, it was the first time he’d seen a body and known it was a body. It was selfish, but he couldn’t shake the thought: That could’ve been me. Worse, it could’ve been Grousepaw, Leafpaw, Mosspaw, anyone who'd fought off the dogs and their Twoleg companion. Brookclover would have been fine, but she was just a warrior. Not invincible.

A high-pitched voice hit his ears; Salmonkit had separated from the group. ”You’re pretty short for a leader,” Ravenpaw meowed, looking up for the first time since sunhigh, and the smile froze on his face. Salmonkit was standing on a long, flat thing, bumpy like a tree without half of its sturdiness, stretching from their side of the river to…elsewhere. Interesting as that should have been, it wasn’t until Ravenpaw caught the strange, muddled scent wafting over it that his eyes lit up—not because he recognized the scent, but because he didn't, which meant it was neither dog nor Twoleg nor familiar shoremate. There was no reason for him to hope, and yet… He could've sworn Mosspaw had said "other cats." Sunpaw's retort confirmed his suspicions. "Other cats!" he echoed, mostly to himself. Then, breaking away from his mentor, the WindClan apprentice hobbled toward the structure with no regard for its stability or what lay on the other side.

The jingling at his neck was really beginning to annoy Poppyheart, as was the sharp pinching and tight suffocation at his throat. The Twoleg collar that had been forced upon him during captivity was trapping in all the heat at his neck -- oh, how he wished it would be released from him so he could actually breathe again! He stopped in his tracks for the umpteenth time during the journey back home to scratch aggressively at the skin underneath his collar, making it chime and tinkle very noisily. He gritted his teeth in irritation when he was unable to successfully quell the pinchy itching yet again. The sooner they returned back to ShadowClan camp to remove this blasted thing, the better it would be for everyone.

He saw a cat halt just a few mouse-lengths away out of his peripheral, and he looked up to see his littermate Asterspark turning sideways to look at him with concern. His brother had never left him side even once ever since the two found each other again after the flood, nor did Poppyheart leave his, so it made sense he would stop and wait for him to catch up. "Don't worry, brother, I'm just trying to get this annoying itch to stop. Again. With no luck."

"Aww, bro," Asterspark mewed gently, his half-blinded heterochromia gaze sparkling with sympathy. He padded up to his brother and nuzzled his muzzle under the orange collar, nudging it up, and began to lick at and nibble the skin underneath.

Poppyheart closed his eyes, and a purr rose up in his throat, both at the relieving quelling of his unbearable itchiness and at his brother's care and affection. "Thank you, brother, that feels so much better." Returning the affection in the form of a nuzzle and a lick to his brother's forehead, the russet-and-white tom stood back up and resumed following after his fellow companions, smiling when Asterspark trotted up quickly to his side.

It hadn't been long after that before the cats all came across a long brown Twoleg thing. No, wait, he remembered the term Carat had called it. It's called a ... pidge or something like that? No, it was probably something else, but he always associate the name of this thing with pigeons, because they sounded somewhat similar whenever a cat spoke the words out loud. Oh, well, perhaps the actual name of this thing would come to him eventually.

And then he caught a very familiar scent just before he spotted a familiar pelted cat walking across the pidge on the other side. Could it be? Was that who he thought they were?

... Yes! He knew exactly who that cat was!

"Mothpaw?" Breaking into a run, excitement to see his younger sister and former apprentice again overriding his better judgement, Poppyheart sped past the other traveling cats and onto the Twoleg pidge. The closer he got to the dark tabby molly on the other side, the more he recognized her. It was Mothpaw! Great StarClan, it was really her! "Mothpaw! Mothpaw!"

The Clan cats on the shore had not been traveling up the bank for long, but they were all more than exhausted. Their bodies and hearts ached from the recent altercation with the dogs and that strange twoleg with his evil stick. Amberdawn had been fortunate enough to stay out of the meat of the battle, due to her duties as medicine cat, but their departure from the abandoned twoleg nest had been delayed and she had been moving nonstop to try to patch up the injured enough to continue the journey. The SkyClan medicine cat had used nearly all the herbs they'd found trying to heal the new wounds, but it was just as well. She knew she couldn't have carried them all. It was better that they hadn't gone to waste She kept a bundle of comfrey root and lamb's ear with her when they departed just to help soothe some of the Clan cats who were worst off.

The sun had begun to set on the cats, casting a golden glow on the unfamiliar landscape. Though it was beautiful, Amberdawn knew that in their condition none of them could afford to continue on in the dark. They would need to find shelter by the time the sun set. Everyone simply wanted to get far away from the twolegplace which had sheltered them and then turned on them. The golden tabby couldn't blame them, but she was tired. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep, but, for better or worse, the decision wasn't up to her. Scorchstar, leader of ShadowClan and the cat who had first gathered the cats on the lake shore, had recovered well enough from his illness to lead them on the journey once again.

Amberdawn had gratefully backed down to Scorchstar's leadership, feeling immense relief when he offered to take over. The young golden she-cat remained close to offer guidance and ensure that they were still following the star (and the shoreline, whenever possible), but she was happy to let him call out orders and discuss with the warriors. Amberdawn had had enough of that to last her a lifetime, and she'd be grateful when she was back in the forest.

By the time they came to the twoleg bridge Amberdawn's jaw was tired from holding the packet of herbs, but she didn't dare mention that, nor did she mention her paws. Everyone was tired. When the strange structure came into view Amberdawn immediately felt concern wash over her. Were they about to walk right into more twolegs? The she-cat slowed, and then the scent from the other shore washed over. Clan scent? she thought. That can't be, but there's no other answer... "Scorchstar?" Amberdawn questioned shortly, looking at the dark striped ShadowClan tom.

But other cats had already scented it, and they could feel what it meant as much as Amberdawn could. Some mumbled among themselves, asking if others smelled what they did, while others immediately rushed forward. Amberdawn knew they couldn't dream of stopping them. The golden tabby looked at Poppyheart, a ShadowClan tom, who had already began to speed forward, calling, "Mothpaw! Mothpaw!"

Her heart beat faster. Could it really be...? Could they truly have found some of their companions?

---

Barleytuft stayed close to Graybriar's side whenever he could afford to do so. After the run-in with the dogs they had all scrambled to be able to leave before more twolegs could return, and the WindClan tom hadn't had the opportunity to eat. Finally after several long hours of traveling he had been forced to leave Graybriar's side in order to hunt, though as a warrior he made sure he caught a few things for other cats before he finally caught something for himself. After he had eaten he stayed with Graybriar again, offering her support whenever she needed it and talking with her to pass the time. He only noticed how much time had really passed when he realized his mate's silver-gray fur was a pale gold in the light of the sunset. She was beautiful, and her soft features warmed him inside and gave him a little more strength.

When the first sign of the twoleg bridge came into view, Barleytuft glowered at it and mumbled, "I really hope we aren't going to be bumping into twolegs and their nests and messes all the way back home." It would do him no good to be bitter and paranoid, he knew, but he could just imagine the sound of those dogs' thorny paws clattering on the wood surface towards them. However, something new caught his attention, a scent on the breeze. It blew from the other side of the lake, which had drawn much nearer already during their travels, and it carried the unmistakable scent of Clan cats.

Several members of the group had already raced ahead of the rest, certain of what they would find on the other side. Barleytuft's heart pounded, and he pressed his fur to Graybriar's. "If any WindClan cats were swept, maybe..." he suggested, then trailed off. If he were wrong, then he didn't want to get his mate's hopes up. However, he knew she would hope to find her son, Briarpaw.

Mintwhisker's pawsteps faltered when they reached the Twoleg... thing. Other cats had begun to stream onto it already, but the taupe tabby cat's ears flattened. "Surely we could find a way around it," She turned to Leopardstar. "I-I mean, we can't..." Ugh. Too late, the leaders of the group were beginning to move ahead. Mintwhisker sighed. The Skyclanner frowned, stepping onto the wooden... thing with a concerned mrrow. "S-slow down, all of you!" She called ahead, stepping gingerly, every pawstep placed with deliberation. She swayed ever so slightly. Let's just get this over with... She could feel herself beginning to panic.
Suddenly, the ears of the cats around her began to perk up. "What? What's going on??" The tabby she-cat tried to shoulder her way through the crowd, but to no avail. The short-legged she-cat jumped as high as she could in a desperate effort to see over their heads. "Did someone fall?"

Strom wandered with the rest of them, lost in his own thoughts for the most part as the soft padding of paws and the occasional whisper filled the morose silence. His mind wandered from one thing to another, his pawsteps meandering as he dwelled on nothing in particular.  Thoughts of his family were blocked from his mind, as were the... other... things. It was somehow easier to ignore the dreams tinged with blood and fear, now, though maybe that was just because he almost automatically pushed them away whenever they threatened to surface. At least I've found Lynxtail and some of the others. Though they tended to bring unpleasant memories almost to the surface more than usual, he found their company comforting. Here were cats he knew, that he'd faced adversity and the horrors of twolegplace with. Unlike his Clan. A distinctly uncomfortable feeling rippled along his spine at the thought of going straight back to the territories and... what? More patrolling around borders no one cared about? More gazing at the places cats he knew should occupy, but others had for some reason moved into? He shook his head, firmly forcing his mind back to the present. I have Lynxtail and Mothpaw, that's enough.

Almost as soon as he thought it, Lynxtail nudged him, his jovial voice breaking into Strom's thoughts. He snorted, a grin breaking across his face. "Keep up? Who's the cat lagging behind then, Slowpaws?" His tone was light as he picked up the pace slightly, ignoring the faint ache in his legs as they protested the act.

He glanced behind, ready to reply to whatever the other tom said with another lighthearted jab, only to spot his friend's brief pause, and the shadow that passed over his eyes. Suddenly, he remembered just where they were, his temporary forgetfulness crashing down under the weight of the sorrows they'd experienced. The grin slipped off his face, and his paws slowed. The smell of rotting vegetation and the constant stink of the polluted lake abruptly seemed so much more prominent, the drawn and exhausted faces of those around him burning themselves into his memory. I can't keep going like this.... I can't keep this up. Lynxtail abruptly turned away, an almost frantic look Minkpaw knew only too well passing over his face as he called for Mothpaw, and the moment passed as Strom abruptly hauled the walls up as best he could again.

Forcing a smile onto his face, and keeping his mind as blank as he could, he watched Mothpaw run past, her playful reply lifting his spirits and making the smile almost genuine. He gave a mrrow of laughter as the she-cat nimbly raced ahead, and broke into a loping run himself, tossing a teasing, "Shortlegs? She's going faster than you, Lynxtail!" over his back. Increasing the pace, he fought to keep up with Mothpaw, only to almost crash into her as she and the rest of the cats at the front halted without warning. "Whoa! Sorry!" He panted as he skidded around to her side, glancing around curiously at all the others around him before finally spotting the giant twoleg structure practically right under his nose. Wha-? He stared at the bridge, similar to the one on RiverClan territory, the fur along his spine pricking slightly. As he gazed uneasily at the structure, his tail twitching slightly behind him, Lynxtail pushed his way through the crowd and stepped onto it, a strange expression on what Strom could see of his face.

Then a voice floated across from the other side of the bridge, yowling loudly for Mothpaw. What in StarClan's name is going on?!

***

Murkpaw trailed at the back of the group of cats, trying not to breath. Stupid lake, stupid cats, stupid smell, stupid water. I HATE this place! It wasn't like there were any cats he knew there, not that he had any of those anymore, anyway.... Can't we just go home now? He fluffed his fur miserably, wrinkling his nose against the smell that wafted from himself. For some reason, everyone ahead had stopped to gaze in awe at a weird twoleg thing going straight over the water. With a twitch of his tail, Murkpaw stopped at the back of the group, waiting impatiently for a moment as every cat stood around. Mrrf. Come on, come on.

Growling slightly under his breath, he gave one last twitch of his tail before shoving forwards through the crowd and stepping onto the strange thing. At least some other cats had finally had the sense to continue walking, the short-tailed tom at their head stepping forwards almost like he was in a dream. Murkpaw marched forwards, ignoring everyone else right up until a blur of orange fur rapidly approached from the other side, trailing a horrible jingling noise that grated on his ears. immediately, his disheveled fur spiked and he hissed at this... this crazed kittypet who was yowling some cat's name for some reason.

***

Swanpaw limped exhaustedly with the other injured cats, spikes of pain running through her sides with every step. It hadn't been easy to walk so far, but even the more badly injured cats had managed it, so there was hope that eventually they would finally make it home. Home. Her heart cried out to walk among the pines of SkyClan's territory once more, to go on a simple hunting patrol with her friends without a care in the world once more. But some part of her knew that it would never be quite the same again, even if they got back safely. Some scars take longer to heal than others....

Ahead, a commotion broke through her thoughts, and she craned her neck to see over the crowd of cats a strange thing that looked somewhat similar to the twoleg den in their path. "What is that?" She wondered aloud, even as the breeze brought a scent that made her breath catch in the back of her throat. It can't be....

Mosspaw's words seemed to crack through the storm in Flintfang's head. The cats had been traveling for a while now, skirting around the seemingly endless lake, hoping blindly for some salvation. A dog attack had taken place not long before, marking their makeshift camp with blood and gore. Many cats were wounded, including himself. Flintfang's pelt had become subject for a countless numbers of scars, he looked less like a young warrior, and more like a seasoned battle-heavy rouge. With a sheepish glance towards Littlesun, the tom wondered if it marked him as handsome, showing off his prowess in war. Sighing with exasperation for his own self, Flintfang turned his gaze towards Mosspaw, tuning in to what his daughter was speaking of. Ahead of the throng of cats sat a long bridge across the water, it was strange and unnatural. All the bark had been stripped from its wooden structures, an obvious twoleg act. "I smell it too..." Flintfang mewed warily, shifting to stand in front of his daughter. The small calico she-cat had taken part in the battle of the dogs as well, fighting just as fierce as anyone. Apparently it was her, who had downed the pale dog. Flintfang had been out cold when the act had taken place, but a sliver of pride for Mosspaw had wormed its way into his heart even still. But that didn't mean he had to agree with her throwing herself into danger. Shouldering up, Flintfang stood defensively in front of his daughter, ready to tackle whatever strange cats appeared.

---

The wooden bridge in the distance was strange, oddly straight and uniform. Leafpaw's pads were cracked and sore, tired from walking along the lakeside. The clans had been traveling for quite a while now, the wind to their back. Hope for finding her family never left Leafpaw, and everyday she would awaken with a new drive, a new purpose. Soon she would see Foxpaw and Tigerleaf again. Oh what a wonderful day that would be! A young kit bounded onto the strange bridge that hung over the lake water, squeaking about leadership. Aww! You'd be a cute leader! Leafpaw thought, and then imagined Tinystar with a grin. He's a very cute leader... But the brown and white tabby didn't voice these words. Ever since the dog attack a few sunrises ago, she had felt tired and sore. A massive pale beast had knocked her unconscious, hurting her head and body. If it wasn't for Amberdawn's quick thinking, the apprentice may not be alive. Leafpaw flashed the golden tabby a grateful glance, and then shook the thought away. Dealing with ideas of life and death was no easy task, she'd rather not focus on it. Leafpaw noticed Mosspaw farther off next to her father, saying something about cat scent. Curious, the apprentice lifted her nose to check for herself, and sure enough, there was a distinct scent of feline along with.... was that clan smell? Excitement shot through the tabby at the thought of it. Perhaps they had finally found the rest of the missing cats, Foxpaw, Tigerleaf, Sunpaw, Tinystar. Everyone meant so much to her, the she-cat just couldn't wait. Bounding onto the wooden bridge, Leafpaw let a wide smile grace her face. The structure was wobbly and strange, but now was no time to second-guess. Her family was near! Griining widely, Leafpaw mewed; "Are there any SkyClan cats here? Foxpaw? Or Tigerleaf?"

The little marbled bengal kitten followed after the west shore clan cats. Her ears lowered ever so slightly as she followed the tom who had took her in. Jaguar now called Jaguarkit had a bit of a struggle keeoing up as she was only born with three legs her 4th which was her right foreleg she was born without causing her to be a bit slower then the others. Carefully she took one steo forward as she tried to follow beside Leopardstar her blue green gaze looking to the bridge. She didn't say anything at the moment preferring to stay close to thos she knew and at the moment that was only Leopardstar and a few others.  Though she got left behind breifly for a moment her gaze looked to the other cats that walked past her onto the bridge and for a moment she didn't understand what was going on. "W..what's going on?"Jaguarkit asked in a small voice to no one in specific. The little she kit was somewhat baffled with the cats coming from the other side of the bridge.

Foxpaw wandered slowly, his tail dragged, his fur was matted with blood and mud, he had no hope. He was alone. He accepted this was his new life. No hopes to see Leafpaw or Ashpaw ever again... His head shot up. Was that a jingling noise? And yowling? He looked up to see a few pelts in the distance. But one voice singled the others out.

”Leafpaw!” He screamed and took off past the other cats. He flew over the mud and hurtled himself into his sister. He covered her pelt with his mud and frantic licks. ”Oh Leafpaw I thought I’d never find you!” He cried out.

What a tiring journey away from the Clan territories this has turned out to be. Scorchstar had been immensely relieved when Amberdawn had received the sign from StarClan directing the ragtag group of Clan cats back home the day before. They were finally going home! He was going to see his Clanmates again. He was going to see Minnowcall again! His mate, the very first cat he had ever met aside from his father and brothers as a kit, had always been in the back of the ShadowClan leader’s mind ever since they had been stranded. There had been times where he had been doubtful that the beautiful molly had survived the floods, but he still knew in his heart that she was just fine. She had to be fine, because he didn’t know what he would do if she wasn’t.

His ears perked in interest once a strange brown thing came into his line of sight. It certainly wasn't anything he'd ever seen before, so he concluded it was probably a Twoleg thing. Already a bit wary of it before he even approached it, he still continued leading the cats on towards it. It seemed to create a large path across the creek, and it looked sturdy enough from where he stood, but he would have to test it out when he got to it.

Scorchstar stopped a few tail-lengths from the Twoleg thing, inspecting it closely. Yes, it truly did look sturdy. Not new, but not too old for it to possibly collapse, either. At the sound of Amberdawn's questioning voice beside him, he looked over at her. "It looks safe enough to cross, but I want to test it first." Turning back to the thing, he slowly approached and placed a paw on top of it. It felt like a smooth tree trunk, yet it wasn't nearly as thick. How strange.

"Mothpaw! Mothpaw!" Scorchstar recognized that voice to be his son's. He whipped his head around in alarm just in time to see Poppyheart race past the stream of cats and onto the Twoleg thing without waiting for approval from him. "Poppyheart! Come back here now!" he demanded, dreadfully waiting for a part of the thing to collapse right underneath his son's paws and sweep him away downstream. ...But it didn't. Even with a fully grown and rather muscular tom running across the thing, his large paws pounding against the trunks, it still held fast without even an inkling of a doubt it would give way. It seemed it was safe enough to cross after all.

Then he saw her. The cat Poppyheart was rapidly approaching. He'd recognize that pelt anywhere. Mothpaw? Is that truly you, my beloved daughter? Blinking his eyes a few times to ward off the stinging sensation of the beginning of tears in the back of his eyes, he made swift work in testing the Twoleg thing himself. Yes, it was completely stable. He turned back to Amberdawn and the other cats behind him. "This thing is stable enough to cross, but you must still be careful just in case. Let us cross; there are Clan cats on the other side!" He wasn't able to keep out an excited trill from his voice. Turning back, he rather quickly led the way over the thing, eagerly approaching his long-lost daughter.