Thornbriar's Leader Ceremony

As the sun began to set over Shadowclan's camp and shadows stretched out along the walls of the regrown thorn barrier, Thornbriar found herself waiting in front of the medicine cat's den. The rustling of herbs and the occasional sound of something hitting the floor of the stone hollow told her that Mothpaw was indeed inside. Sitting beside the ferns that protected and shaded the den, Thornbriar let the she-cat go about her business for a bit. She was certain that Mothpaw knew she was there, or at least that she'd be coming soon anyways. After all...

Tonight was the night.

No stars had yet begun to shine through the rich streaks of orange and pink spilling over the sky, the sight of Silverpelt's glittering hide still hidden beneath the vibrant sunset. Truth be told, Thornbriar was early. Though it wasn't eagerness that brought her to Mothpaw's den before the moon had even a chance to spill silver light over the marshland, but rather restlessness and dread.

No part of the smoke furred she-cat wanted this promotion... or the lives that came with it.

In truth, while she'd not yet turned her back on Starclan completely, Thornbriar had little faith in the spirits that supposedly guided their paws in even the worst of times. After all, it was these, supposedly omnipotent beings that tore away every cat she'd ever loved. Ripped at the seams as she watched helplessly. In truth, she blamed herself... but it was easier to curse the names of those who claim to be strong than to look inward and face your own flaws.

She was a coward.

So to atone she spent the days counting her scars and remembering the ways she'd gained them. Her forepaw was mangled after she'd gotten caught on a tangle of Silverthorns... some strange twoleg device that adorned the walls of nests and other areas. Her ear was tattered by her brother during one of their many... 'play' fights. Her eye... well, the list went on. Every uneven pink mark had a story.

And some of those stories hurt worse than the injuries she'd gained from them.

She bore them with pride, as some of her scars were proof of victory. Thornbriar had lived a life of battle, after all. Her scars bore proof of that. She'd fought some of the most fearsome creatures the forest had to offer and lived to tell the tale.

Others were less lucky.

She did not live for the glory of battle or the glee of victory but rather, she lived for those who did not. Sootstrike, Scorchstar, and Swanpetal had all fallen in similar ways... Maybe the new lives she was soon to receive were being given to her to prevent casualties like this.

Only time would tell.

The soft rustle of ferns drew the muscular she-cat's green gaze away from the now indigo sky to meet the amber-eyed stare of her daughter.

...

It was time then.

Thornbriar looked away.

Mothpaw had a point. There was a sort of finality to their actions today, but it's not as if things were just going to be over when they opened their eyes tomorrow. The moon would still travel the sky. The clan would still grow and time would continue.

Nonetheless, they were still passing over into an end of an era.

She was right.

There was no more delaying it.

Taking the foul-tasting bundle in her mouth, Thornbriar downed it quickly. It wasn't the first time her tongue had been assaulted by the astringent flavor of the herbs, but being prepared did little to change the rancid taste.

She just knew to swallow faster this time around.

Lifting her head, Thornbriar gently nudged her former apprentice with her shoulder. There was nothing she could say to ease the stinging in the medicine cat's heart, that much was obvious.

"Let's go."

The long journey was uneventful, the passing of time marked only by the gathering storm clouds in the distance. No moon lit their path tonight, the blackened sky remaining untouched by the silver orb. Instead, the forest remained dark and gloomy as the scent of rain hung heavy in the air. Thornbriar didn't believe in bad omens, but she was sure someone more superstitious would be losing their mind right about now.

Instead, the smoke-pelted she-cat simply enjoyed the crisp night air as she considered the night she was about to have.

The calm before the storm.

As they neared Mothermouth, the sky above finally opened up. Rain pitter-pattered around them and the duo dashed into the cavern for shelter from the oncoming storm. Mothpaw continued on, not noticing Thornbriar hesitate for a moment just inside the entrance. The one-eyed warrior gazed out, her expression unreadable.

It was time.

Mothpaw's voice drew the soon to be leader away from the entrance, and Thornbriar began padding into the depths of Mothermouth.

When next she would emerge, Thornbriar would be no more.

Slowly, Thornbriar found her consciousness returning. Opening her eye, she found the world around her to be hazy. It felt as if she’d been sleeping for moons with how her body popped and cracked with every movement. Shifting her weight and rolling onto her belly, the heavy she-cat swivelled her head to try and make out her surroundings. After a bit of rapid blinking and swiping at her good eye she found that it was no use... her eyesight refused to clear. Amidst the soft greens and blues of her surroundings Thornbriar could make out tiny, softly glowing dots that appeared to float and dance around her vision.

Confusion rose in her. She was used to not being able to see out of one eye, but the lack of sight in the other was… strange.

Was this really Starclan?

In the past when she’d walked with the stars, even going so far as to exchange blows with Wolffang, she’d never experienced this strange haziness impeding her vision. In fact, this was the only place in which she could see again from both eyes... but not now. Ultimately she wasn’t too worried. As inconvenient as it was, it wasn’t going to carry over to and impede her everyday life. This stupid extra-something or other plane of blah de blah was too muddy for her to care to make sense of it anyways.

Hauling herself to her paws, the massive she-cat sank her claws into the ground beneath her. If nothing else, wherever she was it was grassy and cool. The temperature didn’t feel like it was low enough to cause a chill, but was comfortably brisk. Kneading the grass below her for a moment, she sighed and looked around again.

She couldn’t see any of the frilly little sparkle-cats that she was told would be here.

Growling impatiently, Thornbriar flicked her tail. “Oi, can we get this over with? I have a clan waiting on me to be useful. Get off your star spangled rears and get to it. We’re burning moonlight here.”

As soon as she’d spoken, she tried to step forward… only for her front paw to catch on something on the ground. The deputy stumbled, falling and slamming her nose into the grass at her feet. She hissed in pain, righting herself and grumbling. This was stupid, she could lead a clan with one life. She’d already been doing it for almost a moon anyways.

She was just about to force herself awake when a hesitant voice drew pause from her.

“Mama?”

Eye widening, the she-cat whipped around to look for the source of the voice.

There was no one there.

“T… Tanglekit?”

“Thornbriar.”

The she-cat’s head whipped around jerkily at the sound of Swanpetal’s voice. “What the--?”

That thick haze just wouldn’t let up. It was like trying to see through mud. A hint of panic edging into her mostly angry voice, Thornbriar hissed into the misty void around her. “What games are you playing? I don’t want this cryptic crowdung. Cut it out before I--”

“Hey sis.”

The she-cat stopped dead in her tracks as an all too familiar voice cut through the haze, warming her ears with the warmth of family.

She could feel him there with her. Voice wavering and uncharacteristically small for the normally rough and tumble she-cat, Thornbriar spoke.

“Soot... paw?”

His warm chuckle from beside her caused her to whip around to face him, eye wide. She could hardly make out the dark pelted shape of her brother with the current state of her vision.

“Hey now, after throwing such a fit over my name at your warrior ceremony y’ should probably use it.” The tom bumped his shoulder teasingly against hers, his tone light and playful.

That was so like him.

“Shut up…” she grumbled, laughing ever so slightly to hide the hint of tears that had begun to well in her eye. She hadn’t even known if he’d made it here after...

Everything.

But here he was.

The unspoken connection they’d once had was now severed along with the thread of his life, leaving her unable to read him without her eyes. Her only tool right now was his voice, and she of all people knew how good the tom was at hiding things behind a lazy smile and an easy laugh.

“Come on sis, this isn’t technically where you’re supposed t’ be.” he purred, brushing her shoulder with his tail as he stepped forward.

Thornbriar followed him, and for a time the two simply walked in silence. Their pawsteps made no sound on the hazy ground. The she-cat was overwhelmed with emotions innumerable, but for some reason couldn’t bring herself to speak.

To break the stillness around them.

Luckily, Sootstrike did it for her.

“Hey sis, remember when we were kits?”

“That’s vague, but yeah.”

“Remember how ma would always freak and smack us around over th’ weirdest stuff?”

Thornbriar’s thoughts shifted towards the large black she-cat and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. Oh she remembered Snakegaze. The warrior-turned-queen had been the bane of her existence for moons until she and her brother had finally escaped the nursery in favor of the apprentice’s den.

She’d celebrated their mother’s death at the stealthy little claws of whitecough.

“Yeah. I remember.” She grumbled, voice growing prickly.

“Guess who ended up in Starclan.”

“... No.”

“Yep. Turns out teaching your kits that life is war from day one and teaching them that battle is the only sort of play they need is perfectly allowed in Starclan just as long as you’re loyal to your clan.”

The thought soured any words that had prepared to slip from the she-cat’s tongue, curdling them before they’d even a moment to escape. Snakegaze being considered worthy of Starclan told Thornbriar a lot about the way things worked here.

Speaking of here…

With a start, Thornbriar suddenly realized her eye was no longer impossible to see through. It wasn’t much better, sure, but at least now she could actually make out the rough silhouette of her brother’s wild pelt.

Following her littermate, Thornbriar found her pawsteps coming far easier than they had been before. Sootstrike’s path through the weird, hazy area they found themselves trapped in just made sense.

It felt like old times.

As they travelled, her vision slowly grew clearer. She quickly realized two things. The first being that her was no longer apprentice size, and the second being that he was actually bigger than her.

She wrinkled her nose, an almost kit-like annoyance welling up inside of her.

But then, he'd always been bigger than her... hadn't he?

A sudden memory of her brother sitting on her when they were just kits sparked up. The tom had often used his weight to his advantage when they play fought. She'd always had to get creative to escape such pins.

Soon they found themselves nearing a semicircle of cats. Subtle stars shimmered through their fur, lighting their eyes with an ethereal glow.

She knew what this was.

Her brother stepped away from her then, waving his tail to indicate the gathered cats with a proud grin.

"Welcome t' Starclan, lil sis."

At Sootstrike's introduction, a small silvery-white she-cat rose to her paws and approached Thornbriar, her long tail curled in greeting.

“It’s good to see you, Thornbriar,” said a voice the scarred tabby knew well. Though the pale gray cat was somewhat smaller than she recalled, Swanpetal made her identity clear through her tone if nothing else. “But there’s no time to waste on pleasantries, is there? We know why we’re here.” If someone had told Swanpetal before her death that someday she’d feel the need to give a life to a future ShadowClan leader, she would have laughed them out of her sight, but here she stood regardless. “Whatever happens, there will always be those who wish to tear you down... And so, with this life, I give you tenacity.”

With that, Swanpetal stepped forward and touched her nose to Thornbriar’s. The feeling of this first life was sharp and painful, like the future leader was being forced to withstand attacks from all sides; but when the feeling finally faded she was left feeling stronger than before. “So far, you’ve survived everything that’s come after you. Now it’s your turn to give that same quality to ShadowClan.”

Finally, she stepped back, content that she’d said and done all that she needed to.

It didn't take the Shadowclanner long to puzzle out the identity of the young cat before her, but the sight of her longtime friend so small...

It was strange to see.

She was just about to ask until Swanpetal continued, declaring the life she intended to give with a seriousness that did not fit the youthful face before her.

Regardless, Thornbriar found herself ill-prepared for the stinging lash of her first life. Wave after wave of pain buffeted her from the inside out. Still, she endured, and before long the pain from the stinging blows began to fade.

She met Swanpetal's blue gaze once more, catching her breath. "One of these days, we're gonna have to talk about you up and ditching me fishbreath. You could have at least given me a heads up if you were planning on becoming dogfood." Thornbriar grumbled breathlessly, her expression almost sullen. "Gatherings are a lot less interesting without you around."

“I look forward to it. But not too soon, hm?”

The smoke-furred deputy nodded to her friend as she padded away. "Fair enough, Swanpetal."

Why Starclan believed he was the best choice to speak to their new leadership was beyond him. But he was not opposed to speaking with the living, especially when this she-cat would be the one to stand at the head of the clan that he loved. She possessed strength that he knew could only serve to grow Shadowclan in the times ahead. So many things had occurred over the past moons, leaving the clan sparse and disheartened. Challenging times did not rest for the weary. Thornbriar knew that; she had lived it time and time again. The flame-colored tom did not waste any time in padding forward. There was a duty to be done, this was it. He was interested to see where the time-grizzled she-cat would take them, a process that would be sped along by his bestowal of a life upon her. He knew she would be more than a worthy successor. As he approached, he respectfully dipped his head, “I’ve come to bestow the life of Temperance, Thornbriar.”

She didn't recognize the fiery tom who next approached her in the slightest, but one look at him and she could tell his shoulders seemed to hold the weight of the world. The tom's gaze held a depth she'd never seen before, and his tattered, scarstrewn pelt earned him an immediate measure of respect from the deputy.

The warrior before her had lived a long, eventful life, that much was certain.

The ginger tom’s long legs seemed to tense, making him appear a little taller than he was normally. A myriad of scars, similar to those the other experience warrior shared, cascaded down his coat, and the ones on his maw twisted slightly with a flash of sadness that came across his maw. Now was the time to remember Honeydrop. It wasn’t that he specifically chose to remember her, it was merely that in their separation in Starclan made it a much more difficult feat. Once, the warrior had found hope that he would find solace in a perfect family. A hope that had blossomed from their love in the form of kits, under the guise of his companionship with Littlestar. And yet not even the afterlife had brought such a peace. Flamestrike considered his own stupidity, and still could not find measure of regret. The frown turned into a twist of a smile and he brought himself to speak once more.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of my love for a medicine cat. Desire is a powerful thing, temptation further so. You have a strong soul, and I hope to see it only grow stronger.” With that, he nosed forward and touched his nose to her. There was a wild a reckless energy, one that was so drawing and overwhelming all at once as it shot through every fiber of her being. With one measure of restraint, leaning away from the draw of the brilliance. Without it, there was something not quite as wonderful, but calm and peaceful. And it was tamable, certain. Flamestrike pulled away with a soft smile which soon disappeared once again underneath his neutral, grizzled maw and he spoke with a low, gruff intonation, “Lead our clan well. Be what they need.”

A medicine cat...

Was he the cat who got involved with Honeydrop? That was the only relationship involving a medicine cat in Shadowclan she knew of. She'd never paid any mind to clan gossip, so she was admittedly lacking in her knowledge of clan history.

Ultimately it didn't matter however, as the tom continued. His words were short but charged, and when their noses touched Thornbriar felt the truth in them. The energy from his life tore through her with reckless abandon. This life was far less painful than the last, but many times more passionate. As the last threads of wild passion settled into her body, Thornbriar met his gaze and his final request drew a silent nod from her.

A mottled she-cat sat among the crowd of starry watchers as the newest leader made a wreck of herself. Her black and blue tinted fur bright with stars, but scars on her right eye were odd and distinct. They stood out among the starry forms of the other cats as she watched and listened in silence.

Finally, she stood. Padding to the new leader with a narrowed gaze.
"You don’t know me.” she stated simply.  "I’m a SkyClan cat, but here I am, offering a life.” The she-cat frowned. Blinking her green eyes as if she was trying to puzzle out the reason herself before she shook it back.

Well she was certainly abrupt.

The she-cat's sharp tone and firm stare let Thornbriar know immediately that she was the no-nonsense type. She could respect that. She wasn't too different after all.

"Sometimes, we all make bad decisions. Some can be stopped, others are forever.” her head tilted up, revealing the clean scars on a white throat.  "It's important to actually talk to your clan, before you make a hard decision like this. ” Her voice ended in a scoff, head turning slightly. "I was killed because I defended my home from your mate after he trespassed. Guess that’s why I get to speak to you now.” Her gaze lifted back to Thornbriar with a huff.

"Not like it matters much anymore. Just use your head, and don’t be dumb by judging things just on appearances.” With those words, she shoved her nose at Thornbriar’s. Letting the she-cat gain a new life before she padded away with her head and tail held high.

...

Her mate?

As the Skyclanner before her spoke, Thornbriar eventually began to realize who this cat really was. It had been discussed the last two gatherings after all, and if she’d guessed correctly Tinystar had paid for it.

How did Asterspark fit into that...?

Her question went unspoken however as Sparrowpaw stepped forward and touched noses with her. Thornbriar felt the sharp claws of this new life tear through her, certain that this merciless onslaught was only a glimpse into the kind of pain the Skyclanner had experienced herself. The biting rush left her mute for a moment as it settled itself into her, and by the time she found her voice once again the mottled she-cat had already left.

Thornbriar took a deep breath, narrowing her eye on the cat’s retreating form.

She’d need to have a word with Asterspark after this.

She turned to face her next life... only to quickly realize that the life-giver was but a kit. A soft throb of heartache arose in her at the thought of someone so young losing their life. However, as the two approached each other, Thornbriar quickly realized...

This was her kit.

The warrior’s eye widened as she stood frozen before him. Her son... was to give her a life?

When she was the reason he’d lost his in the first place?

What cruel irony. She lifted her gaze momentarily, looking out into the mists behind the tom and seeing three other tiny sets of eyes, all watching her with similar expressions.

Her kits...

The stars had truly claimed them.

Judgement had befallen on ShadowClan, Tanglekit remembered sitting curled up in Ryeheart’s soft pelt as they watched the travesty together. It wasn’t the prospect of new ideals that startled the young kit, but rather the unnecessary bloodshed. It reminded him all too well of the flood that had taken his life, and those of many others. Burntstag however had been killed, and Scorchstar returned along with his clan. Tanglekit’s beloved mother was named deputy next, and the ginger tabby sat smiling as he watched her become second-in-command.

His only wish was to provide for those he loved, and in return, they had come to understand him. It was a fair trade, a simple deal that Tanglekit could agree on. The love his mother had shown him would never be forgotten, and the legacy his father had spread was ever watched with curious eyes. But Starlord hadn’t been the only russet terror to patrol the forest. Foxes lay abound in dark places, teeth flashing in the moon. Tanglekit was almost glad he needn’t become a warrior. While getting his full name had always been something of a dream - the result of constant hounding by his siblings, perhaps his true destiny was to be the watcher in the stars. Tanglekit was simply satisfied as Tanglekit, and cried as Scorchstar laid down his last lives to save his mother. And now her path had brought her here, back to Tanglekit.

It was painful to watch her body rack with every shot of adrenaline coursing through her. Tanglekit had watched the process before, but never thought his own mother would experience something so profound. It brought tears to the small kit’s eyes as the black tabby finally made her way to him. He didn’t understand why she loved him so. How could such a fierce and noble warrior find hope in those small? But Tanglekit had scarcely doubted his mere existence after his fate in the flood. There were too many lives to observe, and only an eternity to do it. In watching his mother, he had learned what kind of a cat she was. And his smile only grew as she came to stand before him. ShadowClan was in the greatest of paws. Those who knew when to slash with a mother’s fury, and those who knew when to sheathe their blades and purr in warmth. A soft, happy cry came from Tanglekit’s maw as he burrowed his small ginger body into her fur.

Thornbriar gasped softly as the small scrap of flame-furred fluff propelled himself into her chest with a kit-like cry. She couldn’t help the heartbroken sob that escaped her as he buried his muzzle in her fur. Not a day went by that she didn’t remember him and his littermates...

That she didn’t feel that regret and agony soul-deep.

In an instant she was curled around him, her tail winding around his small frame and her large forepaws drawing him in further.

”I’ve missed you so much…” Tanglekit’s words spoke into the stars the ache all long lost cats felt. It was the ebbing and flowing of grief and loneliness, the true glory of the forest. Tanglekit listened to the other starry warriors as they talked. Mulled over the things he had seen. It saddened him to think that this hurt was a part of life, and yet Thornbriar wore it as yet another scar. Tanglekit traced the edges of them with his gentle nose, purring loudly. If any cat was to understand the turmoils of the forest, it would be Thornbriar. Each scratch and bite mark served as a badge of the feelings that swept through the forest. Each blood spatter and stain on her claws. Oh, how Tanglekit loved her. And yet pain would come from his words, too, as he gave his life to his mother.

“As I have you, little lump...” she whispered into his ear. As if seeing her only brother and closest friend wasn’t hard enough, these cursed stars had decided to play with her heart once again.

Admittedly, she was almost thankful for it.

Seeing Ridley like this... It hurt, but it was better than not seeing him at all.

”You understand me, mama. And with this life, you’ll understand the forest as well. Empathy.” Standing tall, head raised in an effort to reach Thornbriar’s nose, Tanglekit bestowed his gift, wincing as it racked her frame. But in order to live and love, these things were necessary. Ryeheart had taught him this, perhaps involuntarily. But it only seemed to mature the kit trapped in a little body. ”I’m sorry it hurts… I’ll miss you, but I’m watching, always. I’m so glad you’re my mom.” With that, Tanglekit reluctantly turned away, tail dragging as he padded back into the stars, glancing back ever so often to find her green eyes following his trail. An ache tugged at his heart and he knew it did in hers, too. They were together, and soon she’d rest by his side again once her journey was complete.

The life Tanglekit bestowed on her rang of loss and sorrow, loneliness and longing that could only be felt by someone who’s life ended entirely alone. The powerful rush of emotion drew tears from deep within her.

The urge to break down was nearly impossible to resist.

However, as soon as it came, the echoing depression was swept over with new emotion. Love, joy, and content took the place of the sadness from before, reminding her of those moments in the nursery before the flood. Those days long past still held happiness. She realized then, she needed to embrace those moments.

Was that what Tanglekit was trying to show her?

...

But the ceremony wasn’t yet over. Taking a deep breath and swiping the tears from her eye, Thornbriar lifted her head to face the next cat. Five more to go.

Hearing Thornbriar's bitter, impatient growl echo through the heavens brought amusement to the she-cat who watched with glinting pale green eyes. When the dark she-cat stumbled and ate dirt, letting out a snarl of frustration as she did so, the StarClan cat had to physically clench her teeth on her lips and tongue to keep from letting out a hoot of laughter. It escaped as a snort instead. A part of the observer twinged with sympathy, though; it was not typical to stumble and fall in a place like this. Here in Silverpelt one's paws were light as butterflies, their limbs were spry and agile, and their reflexes could rival every predator known to Clankind. For a cat to stumble here in StarClan was not only a sign of mortality but also a sign of vulnerability.

Frog had never known a vulnerable Thornbriar personally, and it was an uncomfortable feeling that prickled the gray she-cat's short, dense fur. She elected to focus instead on Thornbriar's snippy comment and, now, on the large one-eyed cat's interactions with the other StarClan cats.

She quickly grew bored of the ceremony, though. Her mind wandered. She remembered when she had met Thorn in the first place. Pompous flea-pelt. Frog had been a young apprentice at the time - old enough to be a decent fighter but not quite experienced enough to recognize what an intruder looked like versus simply a returning Clan cat. Learning that Thornpaw, at the time, was a member of ShadowClan who had been stolen from her home left Frog with such a bitter taste in her mouth, for her moment of battle in glorious defense of her home was immediately deflated and diminished to an almost kittish squabble. Combined with then being asked to prepare Thornpaw's new nest for her, Frog had determined immediately that the dark she-cat was an entitled toad-brain.

Frog didn't have the chance to really give Thornpaw a piece of her mind - or maybe her claws - before she died. Her death was infuriating to think about; daily it made her blood boil... kind of like how it had when she died, and she often made that morbid joke and chuckled darkly to herself. She'd been through the whole nine yards of emotions about it by now. On the bad days, she cursed this odd starry existence and felt much like Thornbriar must have felt as a half-rogue stolen from ShadowClan. On the good days, the StarClan cat liked the freedom that being incorporeal gave. She had knowledge. She had power. She never missed her prey.

Most days, though, Frog could only watch and wish with frustration that she were back in ShadowClan. She watched her Clanmates, and often, now, she watched Thornbriar. The dark-furred she-cat had mated with a loner and bore his kits, and for a short time Frog would shout about the living cat’s incompetence and clear stupidity and utter disrespect towards the warrior code to anyone who would listen (or try to ignore Frog or, worse, point out the hypocrisy of her stance).

That changed when the flood hit and, one by one, Thornbriar’s poor children died, slipping from her claws. Watching Thornbriar’s kits die, and immediately watching them wander into StarClan, had somewhat dulled Frog’s disdain for the she-cat.

It changed further when the ShadowClan warrior sacrificed her time and energy for a litter of kits that weren’t her own, little RiverClan kits whose parents had died in the same flood that took her own children. Thornbriar raised them with the help of Scorchclaw, RiverClan’s deputy, and the little scraps survived. The she-cat was a survivor herself, and she had ensured that the others who washed up survived with her. It was then that Frog began to feel a hint of admiration towards the older she-cat - though stars, Thornbriar certainly knew how to push boundaries and step on tails and ruffle fur. She was just glad that she was up in StarClan where she didn’t have to deal with Thornbriar’s attitude firstpaw.

The rest was history. Scorchstar had died in a terrifying battle with foxes, and Frog had watched the battle with intense eyes and yowls and spits of protest from the heavens - once again, the all-powerful StarClan was proving useless and apathetic when it came to actually defending their loved ones. Thornbriar had done her best, and now she was here. She was going to be leader of ShadowClan.

Four other cats had spoken, and then a silence stretched out. My turn, then! When Frog stepped forward, her lean, powerful body glistened like the surface of a pool, her sleek gray fur glinting with starlight, and her sharp green eyes took in the she-cat’s face and body language. ”You better be hangin’ in there, Thorncrier,” Frog teased, ”we can’t let you go until we’ve shoved all these new lives in that patchwork pelt of yours.”

The gray-pelted she-cat’s presence oddly didn’t surprise Thornbriar much. In fact, she hated to admit that a part of her had almost wished for Frog to visit her during her ceremony. As she felt the flickering whispers of warm energy settle into her bones, she lifted her chin at the she-cat before her.

“Can’t say I’m too surprised to see your sorry pelt here, furball. Who had to bribe you?”

Quirking a brow, Thornbriar’s voice took on an almost amused tone. “Or are you really, truly here to visit little ol’ me? I’m touched, really kit.”

It was clear the older she-cat was just teasing Frog. She was glad to see the spunky rat, even if she was harassing her a bit.

Frog raised a brow at Thornbriar’s cavalier greeting, though the taunts sprinkled in her words didn’t fail to bring a toothy grin from the gray she-cat. The StarClan cat had been given plenty of time to think about and observe the she-cat before her, but certainly Thornbriar couldn’t have thought about Frog after she’d died - not with everything else going on? She’d expected her former Clanmate to roll her eye or dismiss her or something, but she asked who bribed her and Frog snorted, her tail lifting high to curl with amusement over her back. ”Please, these sparkle-brained glitterpelts couldn’t buy me with anything in the heavens or the marshes - not when I can get it myself,” Frog replied, glancing impishly at the other StarClan cats who’d gathered.

The glimmering she-cat chuckled again and looked back to Thornbriar. ”Don’t be sappy; these lives are supposed to toughen up that squishy pelt of yours, not make you all mushy,” Frog teased, and she took a few more steps forward until she and the older she-cat were a whisker-width apart. Her defiant expression grew a little kinder, but it held the fire of fight that she’d always borne. ”Honestly, though, I’ve got a sentimental one for ya. It’s good, trust me. Try not to weep on me, a’right?”

Frog stepped forward and held her dark nose just before Thornbriar’s. ”From one stubborn toad to another, I give you a life of second chances,” she said, her voice oddly warm in comparison to its usual grating tone, and their noses touched with a rush of wind and the smell of home - ShadowClan.

”Where would ShadowClan be if I had managed to chase you right back out, I wonder, before even seeing your family again? Crushed in the darkness it takes its name from, I think. Now you’re here to be a star, a light in the dark. Your second chance was ShadowClan’s greatest.

Let this life open paths to you that once seemed closed, to return loyalty to you where it once seemed lost,” Frog finished, and she stepped away.

The flash of Frog’s given life lit Thornbriar’s body in a warm glow. It wasn’t blindingly sharp nor searing hot like the previous two, but rather strongly soothing. The feeling of relief and the sweet sense of nostalgia that came with the taste of the marsh on her tongue nearly brought the black smoke she-cat to her knees.

It was overwhelming.

Thornbriar’s gaze turned upward again as the feeling ebbed. It was almost tenfold the kind of relief and happiness she’d felt when she found her paws once again meeting the muddy terrain of her homeland... or at least, what she’d felt of those emotions outside of the blistering anger at even being put in the situation to begin with.

Looking up at Frog, Thornbriar chuckled breathlessly. “Never knew you to be the sappy type, kit. Looks like you’re going soft there.”

The gray StarClan cat’s response was to roll her eyes again and reach out a paw to firmly - but not aggressively - bat Thornbriar’s shoulder. ”It’s pretty cushy up here; it’s easy to get softer when you’re not fighting anymore.” Frog took another step back towards the line of StarClan cats who were waiting to give their own lives, and she growled intently, ”Keep it up. If I see you here in StarClan ‘cause you stopped fighting before your time, I’ll show you how “soft” I’ve gotten.” Then she sat, satisfied, with a smirk on her face. You’ll be fine.

The heavy she-cat only shook her head with a faint grin. She’d missed the little furball...

Well, this ceremony was certainly an experience and a half. Nowhere near as organized as Torrentstar’s had been... though he would say that summed up their personalities fairly well. A tall, lean ginger-furred tabby stepped up through the crowds next, looking appraisingly at the she-cat before him. She knew him. She’d seen him before. However, he didn’t smell of ShadowClan anymore; there was a distinct, fishy smell around his pelt. Their eyes met- his sparkling, starry forest green, her one-eyed glare. He didn’t look as young as when they’d last talked- a memory of tussling apprentices in a serious Clan meeting flashed across his mind, and he barely stopped a grin from reaching his face. As a matter of fact, he looked older and more grizzled than the deputy herself. He was taller than her, still, though she had far more power than he would ever hold... and he was all right with that. He’d never coveted a high position, only a family. And given how mutually exclusive the two seemed to be, he was happy with his current lot. But, this wasn’t about him. It was about the she-cat in front of him.

“Thornbriar,” he greeted her, with a twinge of something resembling respect. “You’ve come a long way. Obviously, or the only reason you’d be here in front of StarClan would be your death.” He stared into her soul for a little while, really seeing who she was, seeing the flaws and complicated mess of emotions that made up the warrior she’d been since she was a kit.

Seeing the tom before her… didn’t garner much of a reaction from the heavy she-cat. In fact, up until he spoke Thornbriar recognized the tom only as the unnamed father of Dappleshine, Rowankit, and Otterpaw. She’d seen that white-pelted Riverclanner dragging his decaying body up the lake, never thinking to ask about him or the silvery queen with him. Honestly, even if someone actually did tell her she most likely had forgotten. After all, she’d had other worries on her mind.

However, something in his voice stirred deep memories within her. Yelling and accusations, along with Nettlesting’s accusatory glare as Littlestar made her decision.

“Gingerstripe.” She realized with a widened eye.

In a rush, she remembered how he had been chased from Shadowclan, his trial held in the middle of camp for all to see. Thornbriar had been young at the time, but she remembered brazenly stating she’d agreed with the tom’s actions.

Thinking back on it, she wondered if her willingness to see Gingerstripe’s code-breaking mother as the villain had anything to do with her own mother’s actions. Looking the tom over now he didn’t look like the type to kill his kin in cold blood.

Then again, looks could be deceiving.

Flicking her tail as she processed the tom’s presence at her ceremony, Thornbriar nodded at his words. “I have indeed come a ways... but then, so did you. Last time I saw you breathing, your ginger behind was being run out of camp on accusations of murder.” She studied him for a moment, narrowing her eye in consideration. “But now here you are… mated to a queen from Riverclan no less.”

He snorted a little, but nodded in acknowledgement. “Murder is what they called it... quite an insistent term. Apparently, killing a rogue is an offense punishable by exile. Though I do regret it somewhat now- I’d like to go back and tell the hot-headed young tom I was what I think of him now.” The warrior shook his head a little, then raised it again. “ShadowClan was my birthplace, and where most of my family lived- but I was lucky enough to gain a new life in RiverClan, and a new chance at redemption with my mate Dewshine. What an amazing she-cat... you know, she’s the only reason that I didn’t live and die as a loner for the rest of my miserable existence. And our love didn’t break the code in any way, on my part at least. From the second I was driven out of that camp, ShadowClan was no longer mine. Soon, RiverClan was.”

"I don't hold it against you. I can't say I'd have reacted much differently in such a situation." Thornbriar had considered taking her own mother's life on many an occasion, though she hadn't ever quite been driven to the point of actually acting on those considerations.

Gingerstripe took a deep breath. “You may not think much of me, but I have this life to give you. Forgiveness.”

She quirked a brow at that, simply watching him.

His shoulders squared. “I know it sounds ridiculous, especially to a cat as opinionated as you. But trust me, it’s a valuable skill to have. Holding grudges doesn’t do much for any cat, and reacting with violence solves even fewer problems than you think. Sometimes... all you can really do is let go and be the best that you can be. We can’t change other cats, Thornbriar. And everyone makes mistakes. You’ve made mistakes, your deputy has made mistakes, your medicine has made mistakes- oh, StarClan knows I’ve made mistakes.” A bitter laugh left him, and his long, thin tail swiped slowly across the ground behind him. “But in the end, those mistakes aren’t what define us. It’s how we react. In the last half of my life, my act was cleaned up- I fought on the right side, saved cats, helped cats. I couldn’t have done that if one silver she-cat hadn’t been willing to see past the black and white that surrounded me. Sometimes, everything is gray. We just need to decide for ourselves that just because something isn’t right doesn’t necessarily make it wrong.” He looked into her eyes piercingly, thoughtfully. “Our actions show who we truly are. Thornbriar, I can tell you, forgiveness is one of the most powerful actions any cat can take. Do that, and you’ll prove yourself to the world.” With a long, confident stride, the former ShadowClan tabby touched his nose to the deputy’s, knowing the pangs she would feel. Loneliness. Sorrow. Despair. The claw wounds that she’d ever inflicted on any cat in anger, in hatred. Memories of the bitter acts she’d committed. Then, at the end... hope. A flash of hope, the same he’d felt when Dewshine first met his eyes in that glade of beech trees. The hope of forgiveness.

“Thanks for looking out for Dappleshine.” And with a nod, Gingerstripe vanished into the sea of starry pelts.

Recovering from the intensity of the life, Thornbriar lifted her head to watch as he departed.

A part of her wondered if the tom knew she saw Dappleshine as her own daughter.

Maybe it didn’t matter.

Next to approach her was a familiar grey-furred warrior. This was a she-cat Thornbriar most definitely recognized. After all, this wasn't the first time Thornbriar had seen her starry hide.

There was a grin strapped across the she-cat’s maw. She knew Thornbriar would make a good leader, even if she would never say it to the other cat in plain speech. There were far more important things to do than yammering kind words. Even her own brother had not been spared from the notoriously sharp tongue at his ceremony. Without a doubt, Thornbriar would receive a worse treatment. The pair had met before on the starry plains of Starclan. And their meetings were volatile and unpredictable. Had they known each other in life, Shadowclan certainly would have fallen. While more traditional in her following of the code, a term that could only loosely be applied to both Wolffang and Thornbriar, they shared a similar sense. Had she stayed in the clan longer, the small grey tabby likely would have taken up a similar veteran status, known for unpredictable speech and short patience. She rather liked Thornbriar, and admired many things about her. But to admit such a thing would only ruin the lovely relationship they had built between the living and the dead.

By the time she appeared from the starry background, Wolffang held little more than what could have been construed as a restrained judgement. Even though she stood smaller than the black-pelted warrior, the stride to her step and the way she held her head mimicked that of a much more imposing creature. Her eyes were slits. Every scar that marred her soft grey pelt shimmered with the light of Starclan. Underneath her chin seemed to glow with a particular boldness, the very wound received from Flamestrike that had taken her life. She had died happy in that moment, finding her fulfillment in death. This was her purpose, one that could only be found by letting go of the breath which her lungs had once strained so desperately for. After a well-measured silence, she spoke, “Well, now, suppose you’re going to think you’re strong enough to take on a badger now, huh? Sorry to break it to you but the magical powers of Starclan only go so far. Don’t test your luck unless you want to end up the first eyeless leader this forest has ever seen.”

Thornbriar only snorted at the she-cat’s twisted humor. “Keep it up and I’ll kick your tail across Starclan a second time.” She warned teasingly. The last time she’d seen the brash warrior before her had been during her moonstone journey, when she’d outright attacked her.

Not her best moment, but it’s not like she didn’t have a plethora of “not my best” moments at this point.

“Good to see you, Wolffang.”

The gray-pelted she-cat’s whiskers twitched, amused at herself as usual. Entertaining herself was what mattered. No cat’s opinion had ever colored her decisions much. None of her mates, not even the piece of foxdung from the twoleg city had held her down forever. He’d been slain at her claws. The memory of Reno’s last moments flashed through her mind and she had to push it way in order to finish the ceremony. And yet he was one of the many reasons she stood here now, had grown to be the cat that she was in the afterlife. A worthy mother to the many kits that she had sired over the moons. That hadn’t always been the case. She had been a disgrace to the name of Shadowclan, a traitor and a scoundrel. But somehow Wolffang managed to stand in Starclan and guide the paws of young cats. And, older cats, like Shadowclan’s new leader. Instead of dipping her head, the scarred warrior locked eyes with Thornbriar for a brief moment before speaking.

“There is nothing more valuable than being true to yourself. Sometimes it takes a long path, like my own, to get there. But you cannot lose who you are. So with this life, I give you authenticity. Use it to dictate your actions by what you believe is right, not how other cats may wish you to be. Who knows, maybe you’ll turn out better than me. Good luck with that.” Wolffang scoffed at the end, mocking her own speech. And then she leaned forward, firing an overwhelming amount of clarity into the new leader. It was a quick life, but as powerful as the rest. Authenticity was easier than one may expect under a certain mind. She pulled away with the slightest twist of her head and meowed a quick farewell, “Don’t screw it up. If there’s anything I learned in my own life, Starclan is always watching.” Then, there was that brief flash of a smile, and she was gone.

This life came like fire, searing it’s way through her body till it came to rest in her chest. From there, it flared up, energizing her with a passion unrelenting. It was a welcome feeling, something she’d felt only flickers of before.

Now it sizzled through her veins like wildfire, ready to burn through anything that stood in her path.

She decided quickly that she liked this life.

Leave it to Wolffang to give her such a feeling. The she-cat’s parting words drew a smirk upon the scarred deputy’s maw. “Let them watch, then. Since when has a disapproving audience ever stopped me from doing something stupid, hm?”

But she was already gone.

Guilt and regret riddled his entire being as the large dark tabby tom stepped forward next. While he was more than proud of his deputy’s work ethic during the very short time period she had spent being ShadowClan’s second-in-command, knowing he had been the cause of her being thrusted into leadership was resting very heavily on his shoulders. If only he had done things differently during the last couple moons of his life. He could have avoided the downfall of his beloved Clan by the paws of Burntstag and his followers. He could have protected those he cared about, saving them from their own unfortunate demises. He could have been there to better prepare Thornbriar for her rise to power.

Those were the only bits of his life that Scorchstar wished he could have changed. He had been grateful for everything else, even breaking the code to run off with his first love from RiverClan, for that experience had opened his eyes, helping him grow into the strong and loyal and self-sacrificial cat he had become. He had learned to accept that those events in the past, although troubling to get through, would always be a part of him. He knew he would have to do the same here, but somehow it caused a deeper pain within his soul than simply being involved in a forbidden romance.

He had let his Clan down when they needed him most. He had thought that thinking with his brain instead of with his heart would have been better during the aftermath, and in doing so he had banished his own son and permanently retired his own daughter. He had lapsed into a state of deep depression that he had so foolishly wasted one of his precious lives given to him by StarClan themselves.

He hadn’t been strong during the last moon of his life. But he knew Thornbriar had strength for days, which was why he had initially chosen her to become his next deputy when Wildstrike fell. She could be brash and a little berserk at times, sure, but she was a die-hard loyalist to ShadowClan. She wouldn’t be constantly blinded by emotion like Scorchstar himself had been, which would make her grow into a smart and logical leader. She was the best cat to rebuild ShadowClan back to its former glory.

“Welcome, Thornbriar,” the former ShadowClan leader meowed once he stood mere mouse-lengths away from the large, battle-worn molly, wearing a compassionate smile. The corners of his mouth twitched down to a guiltier smile, and his bright and vivid orange eyes dimmed a little with regret. “I … I know you are not one for sappy sentiments, but I just wanted to tell you how truly sorry I am for not being the leader our Clan needed during the aftermath of Burntstag’s reign. It was clear that my time as leader had come to an end, but … I still could have done much more for you. I hope you can forgive me.”

The she-cat had expected to speak with the large tabby tom tonight, but seeing him so soon after watching his last lives be torn mercilessly away from him…

It was a lot.

Scorchstar's sharp orange gaze bore into her soul as he stared down at her. The tom's expression was kind as always, but the grief in his eyes spoke the truth about the situation. She herself had been one of the only ones to know the truth of his mental state, having been the one to find him munching on deathberries. His pelt had been dull and matted, the hope drained from his eyes.

But even then, he tried. After that, the leader before her had stepped up and begun to rebuild himself.

Rebuild the clan.

Only to be cut down too soon.

Nonetheless he died a hero, and regardless of what happened after they'd found Wildstrike and Burntstag dead in the camp Thornbriar would remember Scorchstar for what he truly was.

A warrior.

Closing her eye, the she-cat shook her head at his words. She held no resentment towards him for what happened. She just wished he'd had more opportunity to make peace with Mothpaw, Asterspark, and Silent Snows.

The stars knew he deserved it.

"There's nothing to forgive, Scorchstar. You're an honorable cat and a respected leader. You'll be remembered as the hero of the Flood, and the most honest leader Shadowclan has ever known. I'll make certain of it."

Scorchstar puffed out a breath of relief. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had been afraid that his moment of weakness during the last moon of his life would have given him a bad reputation as a weak leader. As much as he hated it, his strong concerns for his own social status never truly went away. Knowing he would still be seen as a grand leader to ShadowClan gave him great comfort. ”Thank you, Thornbriar, this means a great deal to me. I know you will make for a highly respected leader in your own right. Now, I will grant you your next life.”

Stepping up closer to the molly, the large tabby tom rested his muzzle on her forehead and closed his eyes. ”With this life, I give you redemption. Use this life well and ensure that anyone deserving of a fresh start receives one, whether it be trust, love, or status. It was wrong of me to have punished my own kin so severely, and I can tell you feel the same. Redeem Asterspark and Silent Snows, and give them the chance to move past what they have done so that they may live a fulfilling life once again … as my Clan had once done for me when I went astray from the path lit by StarClan.”

Scorchstar’s life swept over her with a weight she’d never known before. The pressure on her head and chest was heavy and unrelenting. It felt as if the weight of every mistake she’d made had taken that exact opportunity to press down upon her. She sank her claws into the starlit ground beneath her in an attempt to stay upright.

And then...

Release.

Relief spilled over her like a rush of cool water, rejuvenating her and breathing new life into her aching muscles.

Was this what redemption felt like?

Opening his eyes again, he looked into Thornbriar’s good eye and smiled warmly, a soft purr rumbling in his chest. ”You are going to be a great leader, Thornbriar, despite your past flaws. You will also make a fine mother to my grandkits. Look to Asterspark for support and strength. He may not take things seriously all the time, but I can see how deeply he loves you. He will be there for you, as will your Clanmates. And so will I.”

Rasping his tongue across the deputy’s ears, Scorchstar dipped his head respectfully to her before going back to stand next to the cats he had been previously standing next to: his beautiful mate Minnowcall, his younger brother Wildstrike, and his parents Rowantalon and Talonfoot.

Thornbriar could only watch solemnly as the tom padded away from her, taking with him the last echoes of his former clan. For better or for worse, the she-cat knew things were soon to change.

She wouldn’t dare walk in his pawsteps.

As Scorchstar turned away from Thornbriar, Sootstrike found his paws carrying him towards the she-cat.

He found it hard to believe this was where he was super to stand during his sister's leader ceremony. The smoke-furred tom still remembered those days when they were just apprentices. The agreement they'd had involving her becoming leader one day and naming him her deputy. In reality, he'd never actually wanted anything to do with leadership. But there was no way some other cat was going to be able to take care of his sister. She was too hot headed, too strong willed to let anyone try and protect her. He was the only one...

Then again, that had changed now, hadn't it?

The warrior before him was very different from the Thornpaw he'd left behind. She'd made friends and found new family, her circle steadily growing as bonds were forged around her. Of course he knew all of this already. He spent most of his time watching her. Though he did occasionally spy on the lives of other cats, he couldn't stop himself from worrying about the only family he'd ever really known. Seeing her suffer alone...

It broke his heart.

He watched her fall apart again and again, standing by helplessly as she was stolen from their territory, anxiously pacing when she nearly froze in the snow trying to return, grinding his teeth at her interactions with Starlord, and witnessing her heartbroken plea at the loss of her kits. There were so many times he wished he were there, struggling and fighting beside her. The wound that ended his life was kitplay compared to the pain he felt knowing he could do nothing to help his only sister.

This was their fate, however.

He'd watched silently from the shadows during her ceremonial visit to the moonstone, trying not to chuckle as she actually opted to brawl with Wolfgang rather than take the she-cat's advice. He knew he couldn't see her himself... he knew neither of them would have been able to handle it.

So he stayed back.

Often, he found himself replaying the events leading up to their separation in his head. He had already determined there wasn't a thing he'd have done differently, but if he'd been just a little faster... hit just a little harder, then maybe she wouldn't feel so alone right now.

But that was neither here nor there. It was far too late to go and try changing the past, but it was past time for their future to start looking a little brighter.

Thornbriar was gonna be needing a certain something back in order to truly appreciate that new light.

"Guess it's my turn then, yeah?" he purred, eyes twinkling in amusement. Thornbriar had grown so strong since the days when he and Wildstrike would take turns sitting on her and batting at her ears to annoy her into a competition.

Thornbriar watched her brother study her. His face, so like her own, betrayed none of the feelings she was sure had to be bouncing around his head right now.. . only a subtle grin and a gentle stare.

He was always good at that.

"I guess so..." she said, studying him in return.

Seeing him like this... grown. As if he'd never been touched by that badger. It was surreal. Last time she'd seen him he was still awkward with his paws, growing into his frame. He wasn't so little and clumsy anymore.

Stars shimmering in his pelt, Sootstrike stepped closer to rub cheeks with the only family he had left. Regardless of his feelings right now, the tom had a job to do, and it was time to get it done.

One last gift for his baby sister.

"With how much your scraggly behind has grown, I'm sure you'd easily be able t' squeeze another life up in there but I'm afraid that's not what you'll be getting tonight sis." he mused, stepping back again to meet her gaze. Confusion flickered in the soon to be leader's eye, but she didn't speak. He took that as a sign to continue.

"Instead, tonight I'm gonna give ya th' gift of love. There's no special advice I could give ya, or any sort of funky, fancy life I could shove on ya that you even need at this point sis. If y' ask me, I think you've already lost a life as is..."

Pain flickered in the she-cat's green gaze.

He had a point... the loss of her kits had torn away something so pure and deep that since she'd felt like a husk.

Cold and empty.

Numb.

Lost.

"So no, I won't be giving you a life, but rather something I believe you've needed a heck of a lot more..." leaning forward, the smoke-furred tom reached out and swept his tongue gently over the marred patch of flesh surrounding his sister's missing eye.

"Relief."

The she-cat cried out for the first time since the ceremony began as a blinding, white-hot bolt of pain lanced through her skull from his touch. Her legs buckled and she was sent to the ground, the agonizing feeling of flesh knitting and twisting itself back together overwhelming her senses.

It was too much.

She'd long since forgotten what exactly the badger's claws had felt like as they tore through her face, destroying her eye and nearly ending her life, but she was all too soon reminded of such agony. It felt as if the wound was... undoing itself.

Sootstrike could only watch in sympathy as his littermate was wracked with wave after wave of pain.

This wasn't fair to either of them.

But life wasn't fair.

Steadily, the pain began to ease off and Thornbriar found it possible to breathe once again. She sucked in a deep breath of air only for one last bolt of agony to split through her.

And then it was gone.

Jerking her head up and opening her eyes to face her brother she snarled in anger. "What the-"

However her growl was cut short when she realized she hadn't opened one eye.

She'd opened two.

Her jaw hung open partially as she stared at the tom in wonder, the sudden shock of the depth perception she'd been without for moons leaving her reeling. Sootstrike smiled softly at the expression on his sister's face, and with a sharp breath she realized that her starlit brother was in fact now without an eye himself.

He'd given her his eye.

"You've lived with that weight for way too long lil sis." he hummed, pressing his forehead lightly to hers. "It's time t' let it go. Move on... for both of us."

Stepping back from his sister, Sootstrike's gaze flickered subtly with a deep seated pain. As much as he wished it weren't so, it was nearing time for her to go. He'd have to leave her behind again.

After a moment's pause, Scorchstar reapproached Thornbriar. The faintest hint of starts glimmered in his gaze as he looked her over with an approving nod.

"I hail you by your new name, Thornstar. Your old life is no more. You have now received the... eight lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of ShadowClan. 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"

From beside the leader who'd named him, Sootstrike shot Thornstar a wide grin.

"I believe in ya sis... and don't ya go hurryin' back now."

And with that...

It was over.

The massive she-cat awoke with the chorus of her name still ringing in her ears, her eyes snapping open with a startled gasp. Her sudden jolt alerted the tabby medicine cat who lay not far from her, waking her up as well. As Mothpaw blinked blearily, Thornstar got to her paws. She peered into the luminous stone for a long moment, admiring her new reflection in awe.

She could see.

The marred skin around her eye was very much so still there, but there it was…

Pale, glimmering green.

She was overwhelmed, tears welling in her eyes. The paleness of Sootstrike's eye looked so strange compared to the deeper green of her left. She found herself struggling to breathe... to look away.

But still, it was time to go.

Thornstar turned to face Mothpaw, opening her jaws to speak and revealing her new eye to the apprentice. "Let's go home, Mothpaw. We have a lot to do."

This new eye had been a gift from her brother to lead Shadowclan.

By the stars, that's what she was going to do.