under the watchful eye of stars [closed]

Here there was no chiming song or crickets to lull cats into a blissful sleep, nor the pleasant warm breeze to tousle the velvet fur of kits in their nest. Here the night was cold, dark, and relentless. Even after the fire that had plagued their territory and blossoming hope had provided some sense of contrast, something to sink claws into and hold tight. These simple longings were nowhere to be found. A icy clawed breeze stirred the soft scattering of snow that had dusted the camp. Without the glow of moonlight, what could have been a silvered frost became a mere reminder of the chilled season. No beauty accompanied the frigid glare of the atmosphere.

Wrenspring had shivered in his nest. Some nights he wasn't sure whether it was the weighing impossibilities of circumstance or genuinely leaf-bare's grip on the forest. He'd done his best to keep his head down and carry on with the duties bestowed upon him. It went without saying that his allegiances were to Skyclan and his direction came from Wolfstar; that would never change. Even if doubt stirred his mind and uncertainty writhed and coiled in his chest like a snake, what their leader said was law and he was but a loyal warrior who would do whatever it took to keep his clan safe. If safety was to be found in obedience to their captors for now, then so be it. Dawnhawk being named as their deputy had to have been thought through by Wolfstar, right?

It was impossible to sleep with such things running through his mind like a frightened rabbit. He rose to his paws and padded from his nest out into the blustering winds. Originally, he had intended to pretend he had to make dirt to shelter just under the walls at the fringes of camp; however, it seemed that the tom's paws had set him on another course. Before he came to the realization, Wrenspring was standing at the entrance of the medicine cat's den. Surely Beechface was the kind of cat to be plagued with restless sleep under the circumstances, or rather a watchful eye prepared for any unsavory intruders into the medicine cat den. His eyes peered into the darkness as he hesitated.

A gust of wind seemed to spur him forward and sent a chill down his spine. There was hardly a moment to realize that the gathered clouds had parted just enough for sparse starlight to speckle the clearing. Perhaps, if the warrior had seen it, his pads would have lead him back to his own nest but instead he found himself calling out softly, "Beechface?"

Beechface tossed and turned in her nest, sleep proving to be more elusive than ever in the aftermath of Wolfstar naming the clan's traitor as deputy. How could she possibly sleep when she couldn't trust her own leader, someone she'd trusted and looked up to so completely for moons? The outrage of several of her clanmates was only a small comfort. Skyclan was tearing itself apart from within, her own family at the center of things.

She couldn't understand why Wolfstar had named Dawnhawk his deputy. Couldn't understand the thought process behind it, if there was one. She stared up at the faint starlight visible through the entrance of the den, and the stars (what few were visible) held no answers, either. Back to tossing and turning the medicine cat went, struggling to find sleep and failing. There would be no answer for her in dreams tonight, it seemed, and a small growl of frustration escaped her at the inability to understand what was happening.

Movement at the den entrance had Beechface's fur lifting, head snapping around to face whoever was wanting to disturb her at this hour.

'Beechface?' Wrenspring's voice had the on-edge medicine cat relaxing slightly, though not completely. He had been a solid, seemingly unchanging presence since even before the rogues had taken over the clans. He seemed to adjust to the changes far quicker than Beechface could ever hope to, without any of the blood she had spilled. Diplomatic, and Beechface... Trusted him. He was one of the few that she did trust, now, she realized.

"Wrenspring?" The medicine cat tipped her head slightly, watching as the gray and white tom entered the den. "Is something wrong?" Well, besides everything, but the thought didn't need to be said. It hung in the air, a heavy weight pressed against her shoulders. Beechface wasn't sure how much more she could take without cracking under the pressure.

"Can't sleep." He muttered softly, not wanting to shatter the peaceful silence of the night that stretched between them. The warrior found himself drawn forward by the call of her voice. Beechface was exactly the opposite of him on so many fronts. Her convictions were drawn from a well of earthly rooted beliefs, despite the revered position. And even so, it had seemed she was far from solid, often uncertain and reckless. But all of these things Wrenspring found to be oddly endearing and comforting because it all meant one thing - it was her.

A faint smile touched his maw, barely visible under the moonlight as he became a tad more forward, breaching the barrier between the main portion of camp and her den. The warrior's intrusion was drawn from a bubbling well of comfort that blossomed in his chest in the moments they were together. Even as she had openly defied Wolfstar in camp, the grizzled tom found his pads to be firmly rooted to the dirt when he stepped to her side and spoke words that would have been stripped from the tongue of any other cat. Personally, he was wholly ignorant to the nature of the bonds that had begun to bound them tightly together like wreathing vines.

"I hope you don't mind." He finally paused, glancing up at her as he padded in, crooked tail flickering in the most mild manner, "Your den is peaceful at this hour... no snoring warriors. Besides, I figured you might have something to ease the mind." Poppy seeds were choice for pain but with a brief moment of consideration it appeared he had no herbs in mind. Wrenspring's ears lowered and he looked a tad bewildered for a moment. What was he doing here at such a late hour besides pestering the clan's medicine cat? And how had he done do without any reserve? Perhaps the looming situations had truly gotten a hold of him or exhaustion had clouded his judgement. He couldn't believe when he heard himself speak once again, this time taking up the hints of a hopeful tone.

"Can I stay?"

"Neither could I." Beechface grimaced, sympathizing with the tom's lack of sleep. It was nice to not be the only one kept awake by her own thoughts. It made her feel a little bit less alone, at least.

"I'm afraid my den is no better with my tossing and turning. At least I don't snore." A smirk crossed her face briefly. The notion of her den being peaceful wasn't something that Beechface had really considered. Were others able to find peace in the enclosed, secluded space that smelled of herbs? Beechface seldom had, even before there had been Asylum guards posted at the entrance to the den. Perhaps it was her unsureness of becoming medicine cat, much as that feeling had begun to fade. Perhaps it was being left to her own thoughts. Primroselight had recovered from her dislocated shoulder, and thus the den was empty, moss and feather-lined nests cold. Maybe, just maybe, there had been a point to Wolfstar's words about her wanting company in the den, though certainly not in the way that he had meant.

"Of course." Beechface mewed softly. She pulled herself up so that she was sitting, fluffy tail twitching to beckon the warrior forward. "My den is always open to you, you know that." The words were said almost without thought, the medicine cat only half-aware of them as they'd left her mouth. Really, she hadn't meant anything by them.

So why did her fur suddenly feel so warm? It was that she'd referred to the medicine den as hers. That was it. She'd always been careful not to do that, it just... Never felt right. That was the cause of her sudden discomfort. Finally taking ownership of the den she'd inhabited since Skyclan had returned home.