The Liberation of Skyclan [Clan Plot Topic]

Ashstorm was never able to sleep well and her sleep definitely lessened since she began taking care of kits.  Waking to to many sounds was normal for her but tonight... tonight she woke up to a voice.  She woke up to cheers.  She woke up to what she thought was her her father's name, but being half asleep when she heard that made her doubt it.  She had lost almost all hope that she would ever see her father again.  Either way the excitement of whatever was going on made her get up from her nest and go check out what was happening.  When she was walking to see what was happening, her mind began to understand the words that the voice that originally woke her up said.

"Eris is dead!  Asylum has fallen!"

Shocked and skeptical, she felt that she needed more answers.  Looking outside next to Quietkit she spotted Ravenclaw... Blossomstep, which made her smile knowing that her grandmother was okay, and... and her own father.

He looked torn apart, not in any way like she remembered.  She definitely knew who he was though, she could never forget.  "My father is back," she whispered answering Quietkit's question, happy tears beginning to fill her eyes.  "Quietkit, that's your grandfather." She gestured towards Bloodstrike.

Not long after, Himbo Bob came running towards the nursery.  "You don't need to see this, sweetheart." He said to Quietkit.  Ashstorm simple replied "No you don't, but I do."  Then she quickly walked out of the nursery and went towards the medicine den.

As soon as she got there, and she truly saw him and truly had the chance to say something to him, she froze.  He was her father, but he also missed much of her life.  No words she could say could even begin to describe how glad she was to see him again, but how he was all torn up, how she never saw him since she was an apprentice made her freeze.  She loved him so much.  But what if he forgot about me? She thought.  She had not seen him for so long and she had no idea what the Asylum did to him.  "H-h-h-hi dad," she was just able to say as she began walking into the medicine den, still keeping a good distance between her and her father.

Bloodstrike stared down at the herbs for a moment and sighed. The beginning of a long recovery most likely. He ate the herbs as he was instructed to do and sucked the mossball dry... probably much faster than he should have. He couldn't help it. Water was so refreshing. If there was more, he'd drink it until he burst. His tattered, pointed ear swiveled in the direction of the entrance when he heard both the voice of Wolfstar as well as the voice of... some cat he didn't recognize. He stared out the entrance for a moment, listening. He was sure he didn't recognize that voice at all... and not just because he'd been gone for so long. The fact that he couldn't call Skyclan by it's real name told Bloodstrike everything he needed to know.

Bloodstrike's heart banged wildly against his chest as he forced himself back onto his feet. "One of them doesn't want to leave." He muttered to Beechface, explaining why he was on his feet when he only lie down a moment ago. His head was pounding, and he didn't need a whining tom to be the nails on a chalkboard for his headache. He approached the entrance of the den with his head pounding and his temper rising. Ashstorm came in just then... About the same time that the tom outside mentioned he couldn't leave her. She greeted him, and a part of him wanted to gently butt heads with her in greeting. He might have if it weren't for the claws in his brain already.

"Ashstorm..." There was a moment of hesitation. At that moment he realized with a start that she was no longer Ashpaw. He had missed her ceremony... he'd been gone for a very long time. The fire that had fueled Bloodstrike forward fizzled out quickly. He took a step back, eyeing his adult daughter in disbelief. Finally, he took a breath and cleared his head.

"I don't imagine that howling mouse-brain out there is a Skyclan cat..." His tone was sharper than he meant it to be. A new wave of pain through his body brought his anger back, though it was still a fraction of what it was. "Maybe you can fill me in on what exactly happened while I was held prisoner by his..." What were they? They weren't a clan... They weren't a tribe either. "...ilk." He finally found a word that he thought was at least mildly appropriate. His fur had bristled and his claws had unsheathed half way.

His heart raced faster. His breathing became rapid. His nausea came roaring back with a vengeance.

Bloodstrike turned away quickly from Ashstorm, just in the nick of time, before he retched up the water and herbs he'd just consumed. It tasted sour. It was enough to further stoke the fire that burned inside him. He even began to feel physically hot. He looked back at Ashstorm briefly before he looked back at Beechface.

"Well... I hope you have more." It was all he could say. His heart wouldn't slow down. He couldn't calm down. He pushed passed Ashstorm, desperate to get out of that tiny space. He immediately went to a patch of snow and threw himself on top of it. The shock of the cold on his belly snapped him out of his anger a bit and immediately started to make him feel cooler. What is wrong with me?

He panted there for a few seconds before his eyes turned and landed on... apparently a cat even bigger than he was. One that he was one hundred percent certain was not of Skyclan origin. He buried his paws in the snow to hide the fact that his claws were flexed out to their max.

You come near me and I'll rip your throat out. He went still and quiet as he watched the foreign tom... Ashstorm's mate, he gathered.

Commotion outside the apprentice den roused Sparrowpaw from her sleep, but the sound of her father’s voice was what really woke her up. She’d never heard him sound so... Desperate? She fumbled out of her nest to join the rest of the gathered camp, only hearing the tailends of most of the thrown about words of her clanmates—
“Asylum... Dead...”
“Bloodstrike... Back...”
Sparrowpaw’s brow furrowed. But... Weren’t they all apart of Asylum? Wasn’t that what Bobpa’s friends had always said? Did that mean they were something different now? She turned to her denmate— Shadowpaw, she thought her name was— to ask when her father began talking about—
“Leaving?” She gasped and bounded towards him, eyes as wide as saucers. Sparrowpaw butted her head against her father’s large shoulder and pressed herself into his absurdly fluffy fur. “Bobpa, you can’t leave!”

Ceres wasn't planning on sticking around to chat with any of the SkyClan cats. They all seemed to be caught up in their own reunions and she had no intention of interrupting them. During the quiet trip back to camp, the calico had stayed at Shira's side and kept her head down to avoid making direct eye contact with the sickeningly tall trees that she disliked so much. If this was any other day, perhaps she would've made a lighthearted remark about climbing one, but today she was silent. The aftermath of the battle hung over the territory like a thick fog as she padded through it. They were expecting her back at the Asylum camp, so she planned to only poke her head in and then head right back out. The heavy weight of the questions that she held pressed onto her mind so harshly that it practically gave her a headache. She still had no idea who her real parents were or which Clan they came from, but she wanted to know as soon as possible. That was where she wanted to be. There was the nauseating possibility that they had died before she and her sisters had the chance to find them, but for her own sake, Ceres decided to be optimistic.

Along with that, the rest of her former denmates would be looking for their own new homes as well. It was a tough reality to face, but beginning their own ways of life would mean having to separate. At least, once Ceres knew which Clan would be hers to settle down in, she knew that she would have at least one ally on the opposite side of the border. Her heart twisted as she quietly stood near the camp's entrance, watching as SkyClan cats greeted their loved ones. It was something that she wanted to experience soon. She had no other words as she turned back around and headed out. Her paws knew exactly where to go. This would be the last time that she would ever take the journey back to the Asylum camp that she had formerly called home.

Graybird had gone to sleep that night without knowing what was to come. It was almost pathetic to say, but since seeing the Asylum cats roaming around camp and the territory had become a normal occurrence, she was practically used to this way of life. That didn't mean that she enjoyed it, though. For moons, she had woken up with a heavy sigh, knowing that the sunrise marked yet another day of being under control of the heartless Asylum. Today would be the first sunrise that didn't bring such a dark warning. She quickly lifted her head from where it rested on her paws as a yell cut through the air. It took a heartbeat or two for the words to sink in.

The Asylum had... fallen?

She narrowed her eyes as she rushed out of the warriors' den and into the scene. There were familiar cats here, cats that had been taken away from the Asylum, but they looked malnourished and mistreated to the point that Graybird had to sink her claws into the ground to prevent herself from reacting with rage. This was no time to be angry. The Clans' tormentors had finally lost. That was worth celebrating, right? She thought back to the day that she had spent hunting with Tigersong and the question that she had asked him.
'Do you think this is all going to end? Be honest.'
That day, she had been unsure of how to answer herself. She had been torn between being optimistic and hopeful for the future of SkyClan and being realistic when faced with the fact that it seemed like the Asylum had been there permanently. It was over. It was all over.

She shot the remaining Asylum cats a heavy, violent stare as their numbers quickly began to disperse. She wanted them gone, every last one of them, and she never wanted to see another one near SkyClan ever again. However, no matter how much she wanted to yell at the remaining Asylum cats to move their tails quicker and evacuate, she remained silent. She would have to check and see how her father and Tigersong were later on.

"He's an aggravating mousebrain. I don't understand what Ashstorm sees in him." She muttered back in response to her father, rolling her eyes as she heard the voices outside her den. She moved to follow Bloodstrike with a sigh. She'd rather he rest, but there was little chance of her being able to reason with him.

Ashstorm stuttered out a greeting, and Beechface let out a derisive snort at her father's response.

"You have no idea... Ashstorm, not the time." She answered his question before her sister could speak, leveling a stern warning glare at Ashstorm to shut up. Nothing that had happened in the last season would've have put their father in a good mood even on a perfect day. Especially not anything that involved family... Which was most of what had happened.

...Yeah, he'd drank that water far too quickly. Beechface sidestepped, feeling the cold weight of dread settle into her stomach.

"Are you all done gawking? Give him space and go make yourselves useful elsewhere!" Her gaze raked over the cats in the camp, sparing only Blossomstep from her wrath. The medicine cat approached Bloodstrike, nose lightly brushing the edge of one misshapen ear. He was burning. She drew back, turning towards Wolfstar, but she had no idea what to even say, at this point. Her gaze shifted back to Blloodstrike.

Oh dad, what have they done to you? And... How was she going to break this news to Smokefeather? She prayed that Copperfox had the good sense to warn their mother about this before bringing her back home. The last thing she needed was to see Bloodstrike like this.

In the meantime, she had work to do. Stars... It never ended.

There was a shifting in the warrior's den as the sound of all of the talking managed to stir Foxfire from his deep slumber. His ears twitched as he started to grasp onto words, voices...The warrior curled tighter into a ball, content to remain where he was until one theme in the words hit him. Asylum was gone. He could hear Bloodstrike's voice, the first of their cats to be taken. Taken...Like Flowerthorn. Something new - something he thought he would never feel again - flared in his chest. Hope. Energy. For the first time in countless sunrises, the tom managed to push himself from his nest and take shaky steps out of the den and into the clearing. There was chaos - some cats not knowing what to do, others being shoved toward Beechface's den. But his eyes sought for one familiar pelt, the one he had been dreaming about every time he finally collapsed into slumber.

Slowly, his heart started to sink. He didn't...He didn't see her. Even as he tasted the air, praying to smell her scent one again...There was no traces of it fresh. What...His ears slicked back, only searching harder for his mate. But there was no sign of her. "Where..." he muttered to himself, anger rising in his chest. Not once had he heard a murmur of his mate's name. All of them were celebrating Bloodstrike's and Blossomstep's return but what about his mate, his...His everything! A growl escaped his throat, feeling...Forgotten, unimportant. They were all so content with their new happiness that they didn't even care for his. "Where...WHERE IS FLOWERTHORN?" he yowled, stomping his foot down. He glared at every happy face, tears starting to run down his face. "Where is my mate?" he questioned, his voice now low as his fur prickled. "You...You all are so content with your happiness, but my...Do mine even matter?" There was a long pause before another growl ripped through is throat. "Where. Is. Flowerthorn."

Apparently the monstrous Bloodstrike had heard her, because he fixed a gaze so cold on her that it ran a chill down her spine. Her ears flickered back in apprehension, but she stood steadfast, staring right back at him. He looked so...dangerous, and powerful, and part of her...wanted to become that too. She shrugged that thought away, shaking her head. More denmates approached and gathered where they were sitting so Shadepaw turned her attention to them, curling a comforting tail around her younger denmates.

---

A shape padded across a branch up above, the wood creaking gently under its weight. Deftly, experienced, the form leaped from branch to branch, moving ever closer towards the clearing of camp. Paws passed one after the other as a mottled tabby finally perched himself on the remaining Tallbranch, flicking his tail with interest. He managed to hold his tongue as it was announced that Asylum had fallen, although a crooked grin spread across his face at the thought. It seemed he had chosen the perfect time to return home.

Hidden mostly in shadow, the tom watched with large eyes at the scene unfolding before him. Bloodstrike, his father, was back, and what a joy it was to see him alive. Blossomstep, his grandmother, had returned, as well as...Ravenpaw? No, she had to be a warrior by now...Raven. He would call her Raven. His beloved sister Beechface came and shepherded Bloodstrike away to some much needed rest and he allowed his gaze to trail off towards the rest of camp. There were several apprentices he didn't recognize, and one that Raven comforted. Her apprentice, maybe?

His ear flicked. A huge tom, one he didn't quite recognize, began yowling and carrying on about not wanting to leave. Lichen felt his blood begin to boil up like magma. He didn't want to leave Ashstorm? Ashpaw, his sister? His sister Ashstorm? It seemed his father had a similar reaction, as he re-emerged from the medicine den and flung himself into the snow to cool off. A low growl sprung from his maw, his pelt bristling up along his hackles.

He barely registered poor Foxfire as he leapt from the branch, landing squarely on his paws in the middle of the clearing. "You have got to be kidding me," Lichen snarled, advancing on the obviously Asylum tom that was twice his size, if not more. "Mousebrained foxheart, didn't you hear? ASYLUM HAS FALLEN. Did you really think, after all you lot did to us, to our home, OUR families, OUR LIVES, Wolfstar would let you stay?" Claws unsheathed, he stalked towards whoever this idiot was, teeth bared, tail bushed. With every word, his voice rose in volume. "YOU CAN'T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO SAY OUR NAMES RIGHT. WHAT MAKES YOU THINK EVEN STARCLAN WOULD ALLOW YOU?" Now he rounded on Ashstorm, although his unbridled rage softened ever so slightly. She was family, even if she was an idiot. "Ashstorm, how could you? After what those monsters did to Dad? What, are those kits?! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING. I have half a mind to flay your pelt right now!"

Trembling, Lichen took a deep breath to steady himself. He wouldn't do that. He was better than that. He had to calm down. He took another deep breath, sheathing his claws. "Stars, what a birdbrained entrance I just made..."

Ashstorm hated others making fun of Himbo Bob, normally feeling anger when they did, but she was just happy to see Bloodstrike again.  If her father had not been missing for moons she may have said something, but this was a time for celebration not anger.  He asked her to fill him in on what happened when he was gone, but before she could get a word out of her mouth Beechface made it clear that this was not the time.  Followed by a warning stare.  She was not going to say anything anyway.  At most she would mention that she had kits, but with the way Bloodstrike talked about Himbo Bob that did not seem to be the right time.  Eventually she would tell him.  Eventually she would let her kits meet their grandfather, but tonight did not seem to be a good time.

She backed away from the medicine den after her father threw up.  Realizing that her father probably did not want to be to crowded, she just backed away and walked towards Himbo Bob.  He was begging to stay and she would support him in this.  She wanted him to stay too.  She wanted him to watch their kits grow up... the ones that were left anyway.

Then, something really unexpected happened.  Lichenpaw came back.  He just showed up.  After not being there for a while she finally saw him again.  "Lichenpaw!" She said, a happy and surprised tone in her voice.  Then, of course, every word to come out of a different cats mouth needed to be about how terrible the Asylum is and how horrible she was for being mates with one of them.  Her smile soon turned to a small frown.  She got hated for every decision she made recently and her kit got carried off and she was very sleep deprived.  She was definitely not as patient as she used to be.

"Great to finally see you again too, Lichenpaw," she simply said back.  "I'm so glad that my long lost brother came back to give me and my mate a lecture.  That is definitely how I thought I would be seeing you again after all this time."

Foxfire had never gotten a chance for the answers he had demanded as a new cat dropped into the clearing and stole all of the attention as he snapped at Ashstorm and Himbo Bob. The warrior reeled back in surprise, blinking before his claws dug into the ground, a snarl rising in his throat. This was all the proof that he needed, they didn't care for him with how easily they were ignoring his outcries for simple answers. How foolish he had been then, thinking that they did. ...No, of course they didn't. Why would he? He was a failure who couldn't even stand to be deputy, or a warrior when Flowerthorn had been taken. His anger seemed to shatter into sadness, ears slicking back as he looked down at his paws as a broken laugh escaped his throat. But then, as easily as it had faded...The anger flared back into life. He screwed his eyes shut, drawing back before he leapt forward with a growl - slamming his front paws into the ground as he let out an even louder yowl. "Fine! I get it! I see what I really am to you all - worthless!" he snarled, tears racing down his face as he locked eyes with the cats he thought he could trust. Beechface, Blossomstep, Wolfstar.

No, they didn't care. Flowerthorn had always felt she wasn't wanted - he had managed to convince her otherwise but...No, now he could see it was the same for them both. They had been two unwanted souls that had found each other - and now that Flowerthorn was gone, he was...No, she wasn't gone. A hiccup escaped him. If Bloodstrike, the first to be taken was alive, then she had to...! "Why did none of you care enough to find her?" he snapped with a sob, baring his fangs. "Did you really think she was that worthless...? That you just saved Bloodstrike and Blossomstep and didn't even care to try to find my mate? Do I...Why do we mean that little to you?" he asked, his voice falling to a broken whisper before his squared his shoulders. "If...If you won't go find her, then I will!" With that, he spun and darted out of the camp without waiting for a reply - unwilling to hear any of the excuses that they would make.

She didn't know what was happening. There was so much commotion. So much noise. Different orders being barked over the place others begging to stay, some other cats showing up and getting aggressive while some disappeared from the camp due to someone else not being there. She didn't know what to think.. It was all too much. There was only one cat that could make it all better but as her azure eyes scanned the clearing over and over again she didn't see him. Concern grew within her chest making the young she-cat feel like she was going to throw up.

Tornpaw stood on shaking legs, pushing away from Birdpaw and closer to the father cats. Her voice louder than before, azure eyes wide with fear of the answer. "Where's my dad?" Her voice shook as she spoke but her words were clear. After a beat of silence. She asked again. "Where is Dawnhawk?"

As Himbo Bob and Ashstorm told her to go back to the nursery Quietkit nodded. "M'kay Mum and dad." She mewed as she turned back to the nursery, tripping over on her way, and padded inside, watching from the Entrance. As a mix of yelling of cheering grew, Quietkit lowered her ears. It defintily would be a while before she could fall back asleep. Though then again, she didn't want to watch her clanmates yelling at each other, and hurting each others feelings.

Letting out a soft sigh, Quietkit padded back to the nest, and where Larchkit laid. She curled around her only remaining sibling, as she started trying to distract herself. But all the yelling sorta made it impossible. She let a huff, as she tried to cover her ears with her paws.

Weariness seemed to wrack every fiber of the tom's being in the least physical sense possible. Wrenspring had known physical exhaustion, what it was like to be drained of the very essence of life, and despite being sunken so deeply into his nest, he knew it was his mind putting stones into his pads. Sleep had overtaken him in the most fitful manner; whether it was the plague of knowing his own fractured morality or the pressure of constantly trying to uplift the the spirits of Skyclan's ever diminishing optimism was up for debate. Perhaps it was both of these things or even neither; regardless, the white and gray warrior wanted little more than to sink into a few moments where he could press away reality.

It seemed there were other plans than rest at this early hour. At the yowling that rung through camp, Wrenspring's head shot up. There was a flash of fur and the tom stood at the entrance of the warrior's den. As much as he had longed for it, prying himself away from the medicine cat's den had become a habit due to the guilt that flooded his stomach; however, it was equal measure of churning emotion that had kept him padding back. For this reason, the warrior stopped to blink a moment as he realized he was staring at camp from a different perspective. A second pause was in order as he began to drink in the occasion of their early rise. Several cats shouted, foreigners scattered, and various chatter cascaded through the clearing.

Their missing were back... and Asylum was... gone.

Obvious shock was written across his features. Digesting the fact that Bloodstrike had returned to them was a surreal experience. And there was Ravenclaw too. Despite the fact she hadn't been gone nearly as long as her father, the dark-furred she-cat had been both his apprentice and a close friend. The clan saw them as mates. Sand dried his throat at the thought. As much as he longed to go celebrate at the side of Beechface and to help support her as she healed the wounded. Before he could quite make it, the tom was briefly stilled by the anguished and enraged cried of Foxfire; he longed to aid his elder clanmate but the russet warrior had streaked off before help could be offered. Such pain and joy mixed into the sentiments of one clan was baffling but he supposed a similar feeling had wracked him for most of his existence.

"It's good to see you back, Ravenclaw." Wrenspring offered a genuine smile as he offered up a purr and butted his head into her shoulder, "If any cat could make it against those Asylum cats, it was certainly you." And then to Birdpaw, he offered a brief acknowledgement, testing the words on his tongue so not to trip over them, "Your mother is quite the fighter you know."

So much noise... so much yelling... Bloodstrike understood that his clan was supposed to be happy to see him, and most of them were... but he was becoming extremely agitated very quickly. He lifted his chin from the snow and a growl rumbled in his throat as he stared at Lichenpaw. Was all of that screaming necessary? Bloodstrike was tempted to cuff him over the ears, despite the fact that he was, deep down, happy to see that his son was still in one piece. It wasn't until Foxfire started yelling that Bloodstrike's rage vanished in an instant. Flowerthorn...? He remembered the pale she-cat... and then immediately remembered the one cat that the Asylum threw into his cell.

"Bloodstrike?" She'd asked... and it had sent him over the edge in his confusion and fear. He tried many times in his head to deny who that was... but now that his head was a little more clear, there was no denying it now. He didn't have a chance to hide the expression on his face. It was like he saw a ghost. Bloodstrike's head dropped back down to the snow and he pulled his limbs in close defensively.

Oh, Stars... what have I done??? As Foxfire continued to scream with frustration, anger, sadness and terror all mixed into one, the words caught in Bloodstrike's throat. He could only stare and feel the weight of indecision in his gut. I didn't mean to Foxfire... I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry! He wanted to call out to him as he ran away. He wanted to tell him the truth... but how could he? As Foxfire ran, Bloodstrike's head shot back up and he opened his mouth to call him back, but no words came out. They stuck in his throat and that was where they stayed long after Foxfire's tail disappeared from view.

"Foxdung!" Bloodstrike's head hit the snow with a thump, but if it was supposed to hurt, he didn't notice. He hide his face in his paws, partially face-planting into the snow. Then an apprentice spoke next. "Where is my dad? Where is Dawnhawk?" Bloodstrike peaked out from under a paw and his claws extended into his own face. He stared at the apprentice that was apparently Dawnhawk's daughter and his granddaughter. Who was the mother, he wondered.

"Your dad should be here soon... uh... I'm not sure what your name is. Sorry." That said... Dawnhawk returning was likely to be... a bad moment. Perhaps even violent now. Would he return? Bloodstrike didn't know, but assumed he wouldn't come back right at this moment. He'd wait awhile and maybe come back to reclaim his kit. Maybe. Bloodstrike thought he knew his son at one point... and after everything now he wasn't sure he knew him at all. But if he could at least offer one member of his clan some comfort, however temporary, he felt like at this point he owed them that much.

Bloodstrike reached outa giant paw and made an attempt to pull Beechface's head down next to his so he could whisper in her ear. "Dawnhawk fled the battle... and I... I killed Flowerthorn. I didn't know it was her... I feel horrible." He let her head go and got to his feet, his expression entirely blank now. The weight on his shoulders had come back with a vengeance. Wolfstar and the other warriors could chase the rogue out of camp without him. He had no interest in violence right now.

"I'll drink the water slower if you can get more, I promise. And please... please just give me some poppy seeds so I can sleep. This is a little much for me right now." Bloodstrike couldn't look Beechface or anyone in the eye. He wanted to curl up and go to sleep, returning to the familiar darkness that had kept him company for the entire leaf-bare in his cell.

"I'm glad you're safe, mom." Birdpaw mewed. Wrenspring padded up, and the apprentice relaxed, relieved that her own family was surrounding her. At Wrenspring's words, Birdpaw merely gave her father a look. Of course she's a great fighter!

---

Beechface could only stare as a familiar shape suddenly dropped into the clearing from above.

"Lichenpaw! Where have you been!" Abandoning her father's side for a moment, Beechface bounded forward suddenly, nearly tackling her younger brother in excitement.

"I missed you, mousebrain." She told Lichenpaw, briefly nuzzling the top of his head, though withdrew the moment he rounded on Ashstorm and her mate. She agreed with him. She did. But there was entirely too much happening and once and she could feel the headache building.

Never a dull moment in Skyclan.

"Thank the stars I'm not the only one who thinks it. I feel like I'm the only reasonable one in the clan. Me. Reasonable." She muttered to her father dryly. She wholeheartedly agreed with her younger brother, as loud as he was.

"If we're lucky, Dawnhawk is dead and rotting." She bit out in disgust at Tornpaw's question, though her voice had remained quiet. Probably only Bloodstrike and Blossomstep were close enough to hear, maybe Wolfstar, if he was paying attention to her.

Bloodstrike tried to catch her attention, and Beechface lowered her head, listening as he whispered.

"Dad..." Beechface turned an almost pleading gaze to meet her father's eyes. Tell me you're joking. Please. The headache building behind her eyes was going to be a wonderful addition to this already wonderful day. Stars above.

A quiet sigh escaped her, but it seemed Bloodstrike was more interested in getting away from the noise now. Finally. Beechface turned to follow her father back into the den, giving him a tired nod as he spoke again. He'd get through this, somehow. It was going to take work, but they would manage. She refused to believe otherwise.

Ravenclaw was so hopped up on victorious energy that she didn't reach into the recesses of her mind to think about that it was Wrenspring who had greeted her. It was just Wrenspring, and she was happy to see him. A simple touch - him butting her shoulder with his head - sent warm waves all across her body, and she purred happily as she pressed herself to him. "Of course! Those foxhearts didn't stand a chance with me there!" Obviously success had gone to her head, but they had all banded together to defeat an incredibly devious enemy. To her, she deserved to celebrate. Of course, that celebration came to a screeching halt when she heard Wrenspring speak to Birdpaw. "Your mother is quite the fighter you know."

Right, Birdpaw's mother, which was her. As far as anyone knew. The triumph made so much sense. She and the other forest cats had driven off the invaders and saved her father, coming back to free SkyClan from the Asylum's tyrannical grip. Then she could twine tails and celebrate with her mate and kits. If only it was real... "Someday you'll be the one fighting for SkyClan, Birdpaw," she mewed, though the fire that had been burning inside her was completely doused.