[Swept Away Topic] Bridging the Gap

Mosspaw flinched as Sunpaw hissed at her. The other apprentice had refused help, and she had seen her sitting awake even as she herself had. Her heart broke for the other she-cat's situation, but the venom in her voice stung her into silence again. Fighting back the tears that now threatened to flow from her eyes, she turned her head away, finding herself staring into her father's back as he positioned himself in front of her. She watched as many of the other cats made their way onto the bridge, calling for other loved ones, and some were reunited after so long. Her heart warmed at the sight, and a small smile tugged at the sides of her mouth. Her smile softened as she watched from afar while Leafpaw met with another tom she seemed to know, and Amberdawn met with a dark tabby furred she-cat.

Stepping out from behind Flintfang, her blue-green eyes searched for Emberheart and Beartooth. Her heart fell into her stomach as she couldn't recognize Emberheart's pelt among the other cats milling around, but the large figure of Beartooth could be seen. She nudged Flintfang's shoulder with her nose and pointed her tail towards the tom. "Look! Beartooth is here!" She raised her voice, calling out to the warrior. "Beartooth! Over here!" She jumped up, trying to keep an eye on the warrior to see if he noticed her. Just then, a flash of golden fur caught her eye and she froze, realizing that it was Leopardstar. Her tail lowered as her fears of getting in trouble for killing the dog returned, and she hid back behind Flintfang. Maybe the leader hadn't seen her, or maybe he wouldn't be told... She shook her head. No, he should no. She had, while inadvertently, killed something. She deserved whatever punishment came her way... Even if that realization didn't stop her paws from shaking.

---

Dapplepaw was surprised by Magpiepaw drawing closer to her, but one look at his face and she understood. Having been around the tom all this time, she had begun to pick up on his expressions a little bit, and she let out a quiet purr, gazing back into his gold eyes to try to reassure him. She opened her mouth to say something, when Magpiepaw suddenly turned, forcing his way through the crowd and calling out for three cats whose names she didn't recognize. Surprise on her face at how suddenly and boldly the tom had weaved through everyone, a warm feeling blossomed and her expression softened. Watching him for a moment longer, she whispered a quiet request that he be able to find who he was looking for, and that he would be happy, before turning to make her way to Thornbriar's side. This all was starting to get a bit overwhelming, and with Magpiepaw off looking for someone else and Larkfeather speaking to another tom she didn't recognize, she wasn't sure where to go. So she went to one of the most comforting cats she knew, the one who had become a mother to her, regardless of the clan borders. Standing next to the large she-cat, she looked out over the large group of cats beginning to mingle, finding Magpiepaw among them again.

Suddenly, the scent of other cats wasn’t faint at all, but right in front of him, so clear even he could tell what it was; then the other cats themselves were right in front of him, and it was all Ravenpaw could do to avoid being trampled as cats from both sides of the shore surged onto the Twoleg structure. Where had they come from? Ravenpaw was no genius, but he’d watched the lake narrow into a river over the course of their journey. Did this mean everyone had been waiting on the other side all along? The whole time, they’d been so close— He’d known the rest of WindClan had to be out there somewhere!

As he watched, though, the black-furred tom realized that this couldn’t be the rest of them. Didn’t they have a leader? A deputy? Even he had heard Brindlestar’s name tossed about the nursery—so where was she? Where were the others? Ravenpaw spared the river below a glance and a shiver; if it was as cold as the flood had been, he wanted no part of it. Ultimately, that wasn’t enough to dissuade him. He darted for the railing. Climbing it with some difficulty, he perched atop the Twoleg structure, gathered his paws into as small a space as possible, and squinted into the crowd from his new vantage point. No Brindlestar, as far as he could tell, but that was all right; she wasn't his first priority. He dug his claws into the wood and leaned forward, eyes narrowed. Plenty of russet pelts…none like his mother’s.

Cold dread curled in his belly at last. It overtook him—why would she be safe when so many other cats weren’t—and he looked back, desperately, at Brookclover. What he wanted to find, he wasn’t sure, but he found it all the same: If she was worried, her expression didn’t give her away. Ravenpaw couldn’t bring himself to hate how reassuring that was. He fended off his fears once again, reminding himself that, if there had been cats on the west side of the river, it was hardly a stretch to assume others had survived elsewhere. Still, he couldn’t help the way his ears drooped when he leapt down, careful to dodge the reunions unfolding across the bridge as he made his way back to Brookclover and Grousepaw. Soon, they would be home. Then he'd know for sure.

Lynxtail's peculiar green eyes widened as an achingly familiar scent reached his nose. His heart pounded as he stepped slowly through the crowd.
"Copper-!"
Green eyes met amber and suddenly he was stumbling forward, covering the distance between them in moments, his legs shaking. The crowd faded away. With a stifled cry, he pulled Copperheart into a tight embrace.
For a moment, all he could do was stand there. He finally pulled away, looking into his brother's eyes. "You have no idea how much I've missed you." He said. "Batpaw's with you, right?" He missed her too, and he couldn't wait to see her again. The only thing that had kept him moving was the thought of reuniting with his family, and now that they were together, he could finally breathe easy. He cast a bright-eyed gaze around, scanning the crowd for his sister's familiar pelt.

Mothpaw felt herself relax for the first time in days at Poppyheart's words, knowing that her family was safe and they were together again. Silentpaw was safe, and close to her again, and even Poppyheart was there with them. Well... Almost all of her family was here, she thought, looking to Scorchstar. Was now the right time to tell them about Minnowcall? Was there a right time? Was she even supposed to do any of this? She didn't want to say it, but she didn't want to lie... She decided to start with something safe as Silentpaw practically tackled her to the ground, and just work her way up to the things she didn't want to say. "Oh! Silentpaw, you should've seen Thornbriar! She was amazing! And Lynxtail and Strom were with us, too! Remember, from when we got lost? But even with all of them there, I still missed you... I'm glad you're here. It's nice, with Thornbriar and our friends, but it's not the same without you."

Without letting go of Silentpaw, she dragged the both of them to Scorchstar and attempted to embrace her father. "Dad!" she exclaimed, only catching the tail end of his conversation with Leopardstar. Her face fell as she caught the words he was saying...

"Have ... Have you seen a ShadowClan cat named Minnowcall?"

She had to say something, right? She couldn't just... Not. "Mom... Mom's not coming back," Mothpaw said, her voice soft but fast, almost rushing the words out. She didn't want to be the one delivering the news, especially to her father. "She's gone," she choked out, her emotions catching up with her. "She's gone." It was strange to think about, almost as much as it hurt to do so. She didn't want to think, though: she simply clung to her sister and her father, hoping that being with the cats she'd missed for so long would take the pain away somehow.

Wildstrike watched as Thornstrike left his side to chase after the kit she'd been carrying. He had tried to convince her that he could walk on his own but she hadn't allowed him, she was as stubborn as always. As he continued to limp forward he saw other cats, he saw Scorchstar, Asterspark and... Poppyheart? He dashed forward ignoring the pain he felt, as he reached his brother he heard Mothpaw tell her father that Minnowcall was gone. He gulped and nodded before also speaking "She'd washed up next to me, I believe she'd passed away before even reaching the shore... I'm sorry Scorchstar, she's in Starclan now but she loved you, I know she did.". He stood in silence for a few moments, looking down onto the ground "What about father?... Is he dead too?" he asked, almost sure of the answer would be, Rowantalon had been old and he'd seen how the tom had been washed away with the flood, the chances that he'd survived were minimal.

---

Coldgaze had kept to herself in the back of the group as they had traveled. Suddenly some cats started charging forward or yelling the names of other cats 'Had they gone mad?' she thought as she quickened her pace to see what it was all about, pushing her way past the different cats. She stopped when she saw a bridge and cats on the other side, the first thing that came to her mind was her sisters, they had to be alive, they were strong. "Flurryshine? Meadowpaw?" she called out, looking around desperately for the two of them, she needed to see them, just one last time before she had to leave them for Shadowclan. She couldn't lose them too like she'd lost her father, her mother, her brother and three of her sisters, she wasn't strong enough for that.

Following where the star had been shining the night before, Marshstorm padded near the front of the group. His dark tabby pelt speckled with scratches from earlier in the day, but the expression on his muzzle conveyed nothing but a sense of peace, and joy, at finally heading towards home. He missed the ravine that sheltered them, the protection of a proper camp. Eventually, he spotted a shape in the distance. Curious, he was relieved to see that it was a wooden structure. Something twolegs built to get over rivers and ditches without going all the way down and back up.

Some cats raced ahead, but Marshstorm was content to watch, until he heard Leopardstar protest. Bridges weren't normally too dangerous, but as he opened his jaws to give him confidence... the scents hit him. Then he could see them, cats. Lots of them, on the other side of the shore! Relief filled his chest, swelling it with joy as he bounded forward among the rest of the racing cats looking for his mate. For the other Thunderclan cats who had been seperated. With each one his anxiety lessened. Eventually, slightly overwhelmed, he padded to the other side of the bridge. His gaze looking over towards the direction the other cats came. His throat feeling tight, tail lowering as he waited.

Every minute felt like agony. Dustcloud wasn't with them. He didn't want to believe she was dead, the mere thought hurt him deeper than any claw could. Yet, her distinctive scarred pelt was nowhere in the gathered cats. He sat down at the edge of the bridge. His amber eyes scanning every leaf with fading hope that left his stomach feeling tight. She wouldn't have been able to swim. His ears pinned back as reality hit him harder than any blow. Her only hope had been if she was high enough to avoid being washed away. That some predator hadn't found her, 'oh Starclan, please no.'. He thought desperately. 'I need her.'

---

Ridgelight padded merrily alongside the other Thunderclan cats until the bridge was spotted. Curiously, she darted ahead to inspect it. She pawed at one of the pieces of wood that stood upright. Strange twoleg things woven between other small shaped pieces of wood... was it holding it together? She poked it curiously with her paw, then turned to ask when she heard the other voices. With relief, she darted towards the rest of her clanmates cheerfully. The sight of a familiar tom brought a sense of unbridled joy as she recognised him and dashed forward.
"BEARTOOTH!" She yowled joyously as she pelted towards him, immediately leaping into a hug that sent her crashing into him. Purring loudly as she rubbed her head against his neck. She had missed him. She missed her siblings too, but now she no longer had to constantly wonder if he was doing alright.

---

At the sight of all the cats rushing to each other and greeting them, Grousepaw hung back. A small huff in the back of his throat. 'They're all acting like fools. We're not home yet.' He grumbled to himself as he waited for the other cats to finish so they could begin the journey home again. Then he would celebrate. He would catch the best feast WindClan had ever seen! His chest puffed proudly. When they met up with Brindlestar, even she would be proud. He was certain of it.

"Coldgaze!" Meadowpaw yowled, bounding towards her sister. She was so happy that for once she didn't stutter. But that stopped once the tears came. "I-I-I was so w-worried about you!" She sobbed, burying her face in Coldgaze's fur. "I-I thought you were g-gone! J-just like everyone else..." Meadowpaw tried to stop crying, but she couldn't. When she rememberd that Coldgaze had also yowled for Flurryshine, she decided to tell her. "C-Coldgaze? T-theirs something you need t-to know..." Meadowpaw started. Looking into her last sisters eyes, she contiued. "Flurryshine is dead."

As cats started streaming across the bridge towards them, cats he could distantly recognize from gatherings, Strom suddenly realized these were Clan cats who had ended up on the other shore. A strangely numb feeling came over him as he watched cats calling out, and he barely saw Mothpaw leave as she spotted a familiar pelt. W-where... are they here? Sudden desperation broke through his mind like a wave and he surged forwards, shoving aside other cats and ignoring the occasional outcry or annoyed glance as his eyes darted over the pelts milling all around him.

"LITTLESTREAM!" He yowled as loud as he could, drawing in the scents around him frantically. "Copperpaw?! Lionpaw?! Yarrowpaw?! Where are you?!" No matter where he looked there were none of the cats he knew intimately. In desperation, he leapt up onto the strange railing, casting his eyes over the cats still approaching the bridge. The injured cats...! What about them?! He stared intently for a moment, and caught a flash of a pelt that looked familiar. Instantly, he threw caution to the winds and darted across the railing before jumping down on the other shore.

"Littlestream?!"

***

Swanpaw's heart leapt in her chest as others confirmed the smell she thought could have been an illusion wasn't. They are here! Her ears pricked as she hobbled as fast as she could towards the bridge, ignoring as best she could the pain in her side. "Father? Mother? Has anyone seen Sunpaw? Are they here?"

A hopeful smile crept over her face as she eagerly scanned the faces and pelts beginning to stream over the twoleg structure. Her hopes sunk as none of her close family appeared, and she twitched her tail anxiously as she hung on the edge of the gathered cats. Part of her didn't want to disturb the cats reuniting on the bridge, but another part was desperate to see her mother and siblings again, even her father. In the end, she wound through them as unobtrusively as she could, smiling in surprise as a kit raced past her. Pausing for a moment, she gazed at the cats all around her, meeting or searching for their family members, just as she was. I'm sure... they have to be here somewhere.... It seems like this is most of the rest of the Clans. Determinedly, she padded on, the hope in her heart ever fading, but she wouldn't stop.

***

Murkpaw let out a startled hiss and jumped close to the railing of the strange twoleg thing as even more cats started running over the weird thing like crazed maniacs. He glowered at them all as the cats on the shore started moving onto the structure only to stop and start crying over how much they'd missed each other or something stupid. That's it, we're never going to leave this stupid place are we?

It was about then a crazy ginger tom with even more bees in his brain than the rest of them just about broke his eardrums with an air-shattering yowl. Murkpaw instinctively bushed his fur out to its extremities, his ears flattening on his head as he hissed at the insane cat. The tom didn't even seem to notice, he just leaped straight over Murkpaw's head and onto the railing, fortunately taking his craziness with him. Slowly, Murkpaw's heart decided to stop hammering in his chest as his fur began to settle down again. The river would be better than this place. Anything but all these stupid cats yowling in my ears! He hunkered down by the railing as close as he could, resigning himself to waiting for an age.

Oakberry's leg ached terribly. The flood had aggravated her old leg wound, and that only happened to add to her unease. Nothing had gone to plan, and when she finally thought things were getting better, everything had gone wrong. It was like Twoleg Place all over again, except her leg wasn't broken, just a major pain in the tail, and now her entire clan was going through it. She wondered if StarClan enjoyed seeing her suffer.

The bridge appeared into view, and a shiver went down Oakberry's spine. It was definitely twoleg, it reeked of them, filling her senses and making her nauseous. She wanted to throw up, to be anywhere, but here. Yet, the smell of cats, of the clans, filled her senses. They were here. She didn't know if the thought was comforting or not, Oakberry knew what twolegs were like first hand.

Oakberry still followed her group over the bridge, heart racing. What if her friends were not there ... Like how they weren't there for me when I needed them most. Oakberry's mouth twitched at the memory, of those moons in the medicine cat den, moons she had spent with Barleytuft. Barleytuft who she thought would have always been by her side, who she had wanted to see one last time back in twoleg place. Who she now couldn't stand to look at, couldn't bear to, purely out of spite and anger, or maybe because deep down she had truly loved him, and she missed him.

Hey eyes raked quickly over the cats that were gathered, searching for something, but not knowing what. Her gut tightened, when she did not see a pale tabby coat among the gathered cats, and she scolded herself for caring, or hoping, it would not do her any good in the long run. Her tail swished lazily, over the leaf strewn ground, as she waited silently for something, anything, to happen.

~

Ospreykit had a bruh moment

Scorchstar was staring far more intensely at the ThunderClan leader than he had meant to, waiting for his hesitant answer, but he had to know what had become of his beloved. Instead, the voice that answered his pleading question came from Mothpaw. He turned to look down at his daughters.

And immediately his heart sank and broke into a million pieces.

Minnowcall ... was dead?

Just when he was trying to convince himself that perhaps he had heard her wrong over the excited shouts of cats all around him, Wildstrike padded up to him to deliver the same news. Minnowcall had drowned in the floods.

Scorchstar felt as though he would collapse right then and there. His bushy fur, usually light as feathers, felt heavier than a badger. He gazed downward, completely at a loss for words. How ... How? How could she be dead? That ... wasn’t supposed to happen. Minnowcall was his partner, the very first cat he had ever met outside his family. She was the mother to all of their kits. She was the main reason Scorchstar fought to change his awful habits and better himself.

She was his true love.

And now she’s gone.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. He wanted to blame. He wanted to hurt. But that wouldn’t bring Minnowcall back. Nothing he did could ever bring her back.

So instead, with a very heavy heart, he did the only thing he could do right now. He picked himself back up, standing straight, and fixed Wildstrike with a rather hard gaze, struggling hard not to show any weakness. There were now two groups of lake cats joined into one, which meant they would need two leaders. He needed to be strong enough to help Leopardstar lead them back home. ”Rowantalon....” Great, now the tears were threatening to break free again. He blinked his orange eyes a few times to keep them at bay, inwardly scolding himself. He could vent his sorrows later. ”Rowantalon perished as well. There was nothing I could do. But he, too, rests in StarClan.”

---

If only Asterspark still had vision in his right eye, then he may have been able to scope through the sea of pelts better. He needed to know if Thornbriar survived the flood. He needed to see her again! Please, StarClan, let her be here. Let her be ... THERE! His gaze locked with the familiar one-eyed green one he had grown to admire and love. It was Thornbriar! Thornbriar was alive!

Pushing through the crowd rapidly, a loud purr already rising up in his throat, the bluish-gray tom practically pounced on the strong, dark-furred molly. ”Thornbriar! Oh, thank StarClan, you’re okay! I’ve missed you so much, I was so worried, I—!...” Suddenly realizing just which cat he was gushing to, he quickly climbed off and cleared his throat awkwardly, ears twitching with embarrassment. ”Uh, s-sorry, you don’t like that.... I-I’ve just missed you so much, Thorny! I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout’cha nearly everyday ever since I found Poppyheart.”

He suddenly perked up. Turning his head, he quickly spotted his brother’s vivid russet pelt in the crowd and called, ”Hey, Poppy, come and see Thorny again, huh?”

---

Poppyheart stepped back with a smile, letting his two younger sisters have their moment, just as he had had his moment with Asterspark the moment they rejoiced. Now that Mothpaw had been accounted for, the other cat he wanted to find was his beloved mate Redwing. ...Who didn’t seem to be within this crowd. At least, he didn’t see her yet.

He was about to begin his search for her when he heard his brother calling out to him. Tilting his head inquisitively, Poppyheart approached the pair, wondering why Asterspark seemed so eager to reintroduce him to a cat like Thornbriar. Of course he liked the strong molly — he liked all his Clanmates — but the two of them never really found much of a connection. Had this bond between her and his brother happened while he was away?

”Hello, Thornbriar!” the tom greeted cheerfully, stopping before her with a grin, his bell and tag tinkling from the collar strapped around his neck. ”I’m so happy to see you’re safe as well. I hope your travels weren’t too difficult.”

StarClan had first brought the scattered clan cats on the West Shore together, and StarClan was now bringing them home. There were many reactions, mainly those of relief and joy. Now that the ancestors were reaching out to them again, the misty veil over an uncertain path had lifted slightly, allowing a clearer view of the future; at least, most cats seemed to see things from such a point of view. To those like Scorchclaw, however, who harbored a poignant distrust of the ancestors, this development brought more unease. It irked the RiverClan deputy - one could even say it got under his fur - to be in a situation where they were so dependent on the stars. Without StarClan, they could very well lose their way. They needed the guidance that they were currently getting. But when StarClan had already betrayed them once, showing a tolerance for what could practically have been genocide, it was hard to fully trust them. To be utterly reliant on spirits, who had proved themselves to be as flawed as mortal cats, was dangerous. One could argue here that Scorchclaw was being obstinate and unnecessarily difficult; in any case, the large tabby did not plan on changing his opinion of StarClan anytime soon. From his point of view, it was almost strange how quickly the forest had accepted their ancestors back after Lichenmask's death. Was he the only one who still remembered what they had done? Surely not. There was no other choice but to follow StarClan's lead, however.

Scorchclaw plodded along at the end of the RiverClan procession, looking out for stragglers. As the RiverClan cats who had been swept away were mostly apprentices, they had not been easy to handle at all. No one was getting left behind; at least, not if he had his way. The deputy himself was not in very good shape. Exhaustion showed itself in the depths of his pale-green eyes, like a spirit that refused to leave. The gaze that was usually sharp and observant had grown shadowed with the stress of recent times. While the wounds on his muzzle had scabbed over, they were still red and tender; Flurryshine's last gift stood out at a glance. His ruffled pelt worked well as a cover, but it covered many shallow scratches from his scuffle with Marshstorm. At the thought of the ThunderClan tom, his brow inevitably furrowed. It was obvious that he was in a foul mood; his tongue was sharp, and a slight scowl seemed almost permanently plastered on his features. With the pressure of their situation slowly building over the days, it was not surprising that quite a few cats had grown testy. But Marshstorm was a further annoyance to Scorchclaw.

The hatred that the RiverClan tom held towards his shrub-dwelling neighbors had only grown as the moons passed. He was rational enough to maintain a certain degree of civility around them, but the undeniable truth was that he detested ThunderClan. This loathing had first been sparked way back during the Sunningrocks War, when he had been barely more than a kit. Hatred that ran this deep was hard to root out. It was probably obvious to the cats around him, for he made no effort to lie about his true feelings. As civil as he could be, his eyes would shine with a cold, hard glint. He hated them, and he expected to be hated in return. Why should it have been any other way? If one were analyze Scorchclaw's heart on a deeper level, he did not want to stop hating them. Thus, it made his fur stand on end when Marshstorm seemed to show... concern (if it could even be referred to such) for him.

Marshstorm's actions were incomprehensible.

Scorchclaw did not understand him.

The other deputy had no business talking about how Scorchclaw felt. Did he think that the RiverClanner was stressed? Of course he was! He had big pawprints to fill—those of Jaystar's. Every now and then, he would still see Duckpuddle in his dreams. He had never taken the pressure of leadership lightly, and he certainly was not doing so now. The only advice that StarClan could give him was "learn to forgive." Utter mouse dung. Even so, he did not need the sympathy of an enemy. Just as he saw Marshstorm as an enemy, it should also have been the other way around. Why did the other tom, then, not behave in such a manner? Scorchclaw's skin crawled beneath his fur.

Whether or not the RiverClan deputy was willing to admit it, the truth was that their spar had done some good. The cold, empty weariness that had seemed to seep into his bones, as well as the countless anxieties that had plagued him—the heat of adrenaline filling his blood had warmed him and worked to drive them out. None of his problems had miraculously been solved, but his mind was definitely clearer than it had been before. That Marshstorm had helped him in such a way was almost unbelievable. It irritated him. It caused an uncomfortable itch in his chest, a feeling that he hated.

The clan cats walked, and they walked, and they walked. Led by vague inklings of the last direction StarClan's star had been in, they trekked onward. It was an agonizing journey, but one that had to be made. Leader, deputies, warriors, apprentices, queens, and even kits made their slow pace over a rugged terrain. Gravel crunched under the weathered paw pads of older cats and dug into the tender flesh of young ones. The lake was never too far out of sight, the dark waves always lapping thirstily at its bank. Debris from the flood had not completely cleared, and they still polluted the waters. As another day was drawing to a close, the sun hovered low in the sky. With the burst of gold it threw over the earth, it seized the shadows of the weary procession and stretched them out. Before long, the clan cats would need to set up camp again. Scorchclaw was lost in thoughts of his own when a disturbance at the front of the procession brought him back to reality. Lifting his gaze, he took in the sight of a strange structure too unnatural to be anything but a twoleg construction.

That moment served as a signal for the events that unfolded next. The West Shore cats were barely given the time to investigate the structure. For the first time in days, the wind brought the scents of cats just like them—not rogues or loners, but clan cats. Were their noses fooling them? Not so. The first of the cats from East and West shore met on the twoleg structure. It only took a moment for the recognition to sink in... to realize that they were truly being reunited with some of their fellows. Then chaos took over. As the news spread like a ripple through the crowd, cats rushed forward, abandoning all order. The names of loved ones rang out in the air. Before long, both sides were one again. Tears, joy, despair—in the midst of the shows of emotion that were taking place all around him, Scorchclaw stood still and alone. His green gaze flicked rapidly across the numerous pelts that were swarming by. A name choked in the back of his throat, one that he desperately wanted to call out. Adderfeather.

He didn't see her anywhere.

Adderfeather.

Where was she?

Please. Tell me you're here.

"Mama...when will we be home?" 

Mistlekit had asked time and time again, her weary green eyes staring up at her mother. Hailsong had obviously not responded, probably too busy worrying about her own problems to focus on her kitten's questions. The gray and white tuxedo sighed gently, flicking her ears as she followed after her mother. Her small legs ached from the long journey, and her paw pads were becoming sore and cracked. Still, she, along with the remaining cats, trudged along, desperate to return "home," wherever that was. Despite never seeing Riverclan territory, her mother spoke of it fondly, so Mistlekit was fond of it too. 

As they approached the strange weird contraption, everything descended into chaos. All the commotion scared her half to death; cats screaming for their loved ones and rushing ahead, others grieving once they realized that their familys' lives had been lost. She shuddered, tail twitching anxiously. Although she was small, she was not hidden from the flood's destruction. The broken bodies of Dewshine and Gingerstripe, dragged around by Flurryshine for many sunrises, returned to her mind; the young kitten found herself feeling sick at the stomach just thinking about it. She shook her head, trying to will the thoughts away. They were going home now, and everything would be all right. At least, she hoped it would. 

"Thanks to Starclan! I've missed you so much...!" 

Mistlekit looked up, startled out of her thoughts. She peered through the crowd until she spotted the familiar dilute calico pelt of her mother...nuzzling with another cat. The she-cat cocked her head to one side, eyes narrowing in a moment of confusion. Who was that cat? Were they close to mom? "Come here, sweeties. This is your father, Blizzardshell." She blinked once, and then twice, as her mother flicked her tail to beckon them over. Her...father? Curiosity piqued, she bounded after her sister, Finchkit, towards the two larger cats. As her mother confided in the tom, Blizzardshell, Mistlekit looked up at him with her big green eyes, bouncing on her paws excitedly, "Hi, I'm Mistlekit!" 

Happiness and joy of reuniting with more of his Clanmates suddenly transformed into confusion and nervousness. Poppyheart took a step back at the tone of voice Thornbriar used to speak to him with, and that one-eyed glare made him gulp down a hard lump in his throat that hadn't been there before. He opened his mouth, trying to search for something to say in his dumbfounded state.

"Now, hold on, Thorny--" He heard Asterspark begin beside him, but before he could finish his sentence the molly lunged forward with jaws widened and snapped her teeth around Poppyheart's collar. She then began to tug, and she was tugging hard. He toppled over onto the tree-like ground, and he thought that she would let that be the end of it.

Oh, how wrong he was.

"Ack! H-Hey! Thornbr-- ahahh! --briar, what are you ... doing?" Poppyheart choked out, the strange Twoleg thing tightening around his throat, as Thornbriar began dragging him across the ground. Still, he struggled to tug back against her to escape her unforgiving grip, and all the while fear was churning within him. Why was Thornbriar so mad at him?! He never wanted to become a kittypet! She just didn't give him a chance to explain! What was she even going to do to him? "Th-Thornbriar, please, I-I--!"

Once the two reached the edge of the Twoleg construction, it became all too terrifyingly clear what she was planning. Poppyheart's eyes widened as he stared down at the creek below, many rocks jutting out, being splashed by the swelling bank caused by excessive rain and flood water. Thankfully, the rocks didn't appear sharp, but they could still hurt if someone fell on them from this high up! "No! Thornbriar, let me explain--! Aayiiieeee-- KKHKHAAHG...!" The next thing he knew, he had been pushed over the edge and was now dangling helplessly in the air by his collar. Unbearable pressure and strain was being applied to his throat, leaving him gasping and choking for air. He reached out his forepaws, claws unsheathed, trying to catch them on the underside or edge of the Twoleg thing so he could haul himself up and actually breathe again.

The pressure didn't last more for five seconds, for his ears suddenly heard a loud snap, and wind began whirling all around him, feeling weightless and having no clue as to what was actually happening next before realizing too late he was plummeting down towards the overflowing creek. The breath was knocked out of him when he crashed into the water, which was absolutely bone-chilling. At the very least he had avoid hitting any of the rocks jutting out of the water on the way down, but the water still wasn't enough to slow him down to a complete stop to avoid slamming his chest and underbelly into the creek floor. He gritted his teeth to choke back a yowl of pain he knew he wouldn't have the breath for, and so instead he pushed up against the floor with all four paws to quickly emerge his head from underwater where he coughed, sputtered, and groaned in pain.

---

Asterspark's eyes widened when he saw Thornbriar fasten her teeth around his brother's Twoleg thing, tugging so hard that she managed to bring him crashing down on his side. He heard her growl, and then she began dragging a kicking and resisting Poppyheart closer and closer towards the edge of the Twoleg construction. In the time he had to get to know Thornbriar, he knew she could be very blunt and direct at times, but she was always loyal to her Clan and her Clanmates whether she wanted to be or not, so he knew she wouldn't kill him or cause any irreversible damage.

Still, it hurt hearing Poppyheart cry out for mercy, and to see him struggling against the stronger molly.

Then, when she flung the tom over the edge and held him by the Twoleg thing around his neck, he audibly gasped and rushed forward to Thornbriar's side, but stopped himself from helping his brother up, as desperately as he wanted to. Thornbriar had had one of these things around her neck before, so she knew best out of any cat here how to remove one from a cat. He just had to trust her. "It's okay, bro, it's okay, it'll be over soon," he mewed urgently to his struggling brother, heart twisting in pain to see the russet-furred ShadowClanner squirming in midair.

With a loud snap, Asterspark saw the Twoleg thing break free from its hold around Poppyheart's neck, but he didn't have time to be relieved, for Poppyheart then fell into the water below. Of course, he knew that would happen if the thing broke free as it did, but that had still sounded like a hard fall. "Poppyheart!" He rushed away from Thornbriar's side and sprinted with uncharacteristic speed over to the end of the Twoleg thing to half climb, half slide down the dip of land towards the creek to help his struggling brother out. He splashed into the water and waded over to his drenched littermate, meeting him halfway as he was already struggling to escape the freezing cold stream. "It's okay, bro, I gotcha," he mewed before gently yet firmly fastening his teeth around Poppyheart's scruff, tugging him out of the water and onto dry land, where the taller, thinner tom collapsed, coughing and moaning from the experience. He looked down at his brother and, after being reassured that he was going to be fine, couldn't help but grin with amusement. "Yo, Poppyheart. You alright?"

"Y-Yes ... b-brother...." Poppyheart croaked, his side rising and falling as he sucked in much needed air after coughing up practically half the creek's contents. Slowly and weakly, he lifted up his head to look up at the gathering cats by the edge of the Twoleg thing, but focused his indignant amber gaze on Thornbriar. "There were at least three other ways to get that thing off of me, you know!"

(OOC: Will edit in Scorch's response very shortly. X3)