thnks fr th mmrs

The moon was bright. Just a sliver of darkness colored one crescent corner, leaving more than enough light for Spottedfrog to pick her way through SkyClan's territory. There was no particular reason for her to be out tonight. At least, not anymore... she wasn't hunting, and a single cat wasn't much of a patrol... but the ever growing pit of anxiety in her gut had become cumbersome... and now, she was as hesitant to return to camp as she'd been to leave it in the first place.  She chalked it up to being just a little stir crazy - especially considering she couldn't remember the last time she'd been to a Gathering, or, really spoken to anyone outside her own clan. Not that she particularly wanted to... Spottedfrog had spent more than enough time away from SkyClan in her life... it was something she had no desire to relive or repeat. But lately... something lately... had her constantly on edge. She didn't know what it was, and to be perfectly honest, every moment she lived in blissful ignorance was a blessing... but still.

That something had sent her out tonight, searching for Beechfang of all cats. Her paws had carried her to the border where SkyClan territory met Twolegplace, and though she didn't wander past the markers, she still sat for a long time, watching, waiting, as if perhaps her half-sister could feel her there, expectant without any real reason to be. It was a bizarre place to be, both physically and mentally in a place where she sought her ill tempered sibling's company voluntarily, but truth be told... she was worried about Bloodstrike. And if they had any true bond remaining, anything that hadn't been shattered by moons and moons of animosity, it was him. Someone needed to come knock some sense into the old tom, and Spottedfrog wasn't sure she could do it alone... or even just with Ravenclaw's help.

But Beechfang did not show, and eventually, the stiffness in her limbs forced Spottedfrog to return home... or, at least, try to. She was still a decent distance from the camp when she heard raised voices. Instantly, the black and white she-cat froze, one paw in the air, ears trained towards the noise. Was the camp being raided? Were these intruders? Her heart beat in her throat as she listened. There was silence for a long time, and just when she'd decided to move on, to try and get closer, she heard it again. This time, having been expecting it, she heard it more clearly, though she couldn't decipher the words, she knew the voice: Falconmoon.

What was he doing out, so late? And who was he yelling at? Curiosity drew her forward, and she stalked through the underbrush, trying to avoid making any noise as she moved closer.

Falconmoon had been waiting for much of the day and much of the night to be alone. He slipped away from his patrol with the excuse he needed to make dirt, but he had no intention of returning any time soon. What had transpired in the medicine den was hard to fully grasp. He knew he'd been more or less Skyclan's boogeyman at one point in time... his previous life... his previous body even. But how could he be Dawnhawk and Falconmoon? How was he supposed to reconcile these two very different personalities into one body without being torn apart? He felt like he was, skull first, as he wrestled with thoughts and feelings that were not his own, and were, at the same time.

It would be so easy! I should just kill Bloodstrike when he sleeps. He is the last one. Once he is gone I will have completed... completed...

completed what exactly? What's the point? He wrestled with himself. He was fairly sure he was alone when he began his furious pacing. Round and round he went in circles, stiff-legged and claws unsheathed. His expression rapidly changed at first as conflicted thoughts battled inside of him. Once he grew more comfortable, those thoughts became whispers. Then those whispers grew louder.

"I have a home! I have a family that loves me!" He argued with himself. Almost as if in response from some dark entity within, more words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them.

"And you will lose it all when they find out who you are. Who we are. This has happened before, idiot! You were abandoned by your family and betrayed countless times. You are who you are and you cannot change that!" His facial expressions softened and he turned in tighter and tighter circles. He lost track of his location and the time that passed.

"But that was then... this is now. This is my real family... not some she-cats I lied to and started families with. This is Skyclan, lead by Birdstar and my mother is the deputy. This is different. I don't want to lose this! I don't want to ruin it!" Tears began to blur his vision. "I don't want to be alone again." The last sentence was nearly a whisper and he stopped in his tracks. He stared at the small rutts in the ground that he'd made with his furious pacing.

For a few moments the darker voice seemed to stop. Neither cat, Dawnhawk nor Falconmoon, enjoyed loneliness.

"Starclan gave me another chance. Blossomstep risked ridicule for me more than once. Flowerthorn too... Could I seriously in good conscience throw this all away? All of their efforts?" A silence passed again, and for once, Falconmoon didn't know which of the voices were speaking. Then suddenly, an anger washed over him and he began to pace again.

"There are too many in the forest that would take it all away, you stars-cursed fool! They will kill you because of who we are. It doesn't mater the good that I've done. That we have done. They never cared before no matter how hard I tried to change and they won't care now. What will you do when the time comes to take another cat's life because they found out about us? What will you do??? Will you just lay down and die? That's more of a waste to me!"

Falconmoon's pacing increased to nearly trotting speeds. "I don't know what to do! I don't know the answer!" He finally yowled in frustration. He was almost panting now from both anger and fear. What was he supposed to do???

Caution guided her paws, each one placed slowly, deliberately, as Spottedfrog moved closer to Falconmoon's voice. Some of what he said was quiet, too far for her to hear, but some of it was yelled enough for her to pick out words - not that they made any sense to her without context. Home. Family. Lied. SkyClan. Birdstar. Different. Ruin. Her brow furrowed. She could hear him speaking, clearly now, but... she couldn't hear someone else. Who was he talking to?

Eventually, she was close enough to hear pawsteps, and as she stealthily moved close enough to finally hear him in earnest, she realized, with a jolt of confusion, that he was talking to no one. There was no one here except her, and Falconmoon, who was pacing and ranting... to himself.

"Starclan gave me another chance. Blossomstep risked ridicule for me more than once. Flowerthorn too... Could I seriously in good conscience throw this all away? All of their efforts?"

Spottedfrog froze, blood running cold as she processed that sentence. Blossomstep. Flowerthorn. Those were names of cats that Falconmoon couldn't know. Yet he was speaking as if he'd encountered them firsthand. She sat, and listened.

"There are too many in the forest that would take it all away, you stars-cursed fool! They will kill you because of who we are. It doesn't mater the good that I've done. That we have done. They never cared before no matter how hard I tried to change and they won't care now. What will you do when the time comes to take another cat's life because they found out about us? What will you do??? Will you just lay down and die? That's more of a waste to me!"

He grew more restless, practically trotting in circles. Spottedfrog's heart thrummed in her ears, head swimming with the overload of information. The only thing this could mean was that Bloodstrike was right... he was right. The implications of what her father had guessed were too out of touch with reality to be true... and yet here they stood before her. Spottedfrog rose to full height and moved into the more open space, her eyes landing on Falconmoon just as he exclaimed his last sentence. There, she stood, still and wary, her expression guarded and yet still somehow skeptical despite the truth being right in front of her.

"StarClan gave you another chance," she repeated. "StarClan... gave you... another chance." There was no hostility in her tone... only disbelief... and confusion. "You," she said again. "Dawnhawk." She wanted to scream, to pelt back to SkyClan's camp and rally the troops, tell Bloodstrike he'd been right the whole time... but something stilled her paws. Something kept her staring at him with utter, pained incredulity, until finally she asked, "Why?"

Falconmoon's head snapped in Spottedfrog's direction when she appeared and spoke to him. His ears were pricked forward and his eyes were round as saucers. His tail bristled slightly, but more out of fear than aggression. When she spat out his previous life's name, he inwardly flinched. She'd heard him. What was going to happen now? What do I do??? He asked, really to no one in particular. After a tense moment, Falconmoon let his fur lie flat and he straightened up his posture. His eyes changed from fear to determination, but there was no tension in his body.

"I... I don't know. Maybe there was something to my case being argued. Maybe something I said made sense to them." It was the most honest answer he could give. He truly didn't know how he managed to sway so many. It had hardly been his most stellar performance.

But now the real question remained.

"Even if I told you I was willing to give this new life an honest try and do better than before... how do you feel about this? Are you going to run back to Bloodstrike and tell him? It might give the old guy a heart attack." He hoped it would be enough to make her hesitate. Even Falconmoon wasn't entirely sure what he would do regardless of her response. A part of him wanted to flee, but another part of him wanted her to understand.

And there it was... admittance. No denial, no trying to deflect, no bluff, just a flat out "you're right... now what are you going to do about it?" Spottedfrog's heart couldn't sink any lower in her gut if it tried. She stared at him, deliberating, calculating... of all the cats that deserved a second chance at life... why Dawnhawk? He was a murderer. He was a cool, calculated killer; a crafty, silver-tongued schemer, he'd been a plague on the forest in his first life, and they'd sent him back.

She blinked.

"Why?" she asked again, voice so quiet it was barely a whisper. But she wasn't asking him. It was StarClan who'd done this... it was StarClan who had the answers. And she trusted StarClan, believed that they wouldn't do something they thought would cause harm. But, this...

This...

"Where is Falconmoon?" she demanded, ignoring his previous question intentionally. "What happened to him, when you..." Spottedfrog trailed off. When he what? Took over? How could she even be sure that's what happened? Maybe... had he just been Dawnhawk all along? No... that wasn't possible. Falconmoon was kind, and gentle... certainly her half-brother had never been so soft. Spottedfrog's eyes took him in as she waited for a response, and she subconsciously adjusted her stance, angling for a defensive advantage if he were to lunge, despite his own mostly relaxed stature.

What was she supposed to do here? She was almost ashamed to admit that her first thought was to kill him. They were alone, as far as she knew... and though he'd doubtlessly had far more combat experience, Spottedfrog was older this time, more hardened. She could haul his body to the river and no one would ever know. But... if StarClan had sent him back, they had to have a reason, right?

So, what, then? Spill the truth? Even if she told the clan what she now knew, what Falconmoon himself had confirmed, what's to say they would believe her? Except Bloodstrike, of course, who would promptly die trying to take Falconmoon down, whether he was successful or not. It would cause a civil war in SkyClan. Cats would die. SkyClan would kill each other over Dawnhawk. Again.

The final option was just... keeping the secret. Especially from her father. This is the thing that sat least favorable to her. If he wasn't telling the truth, if he wasn't in it for an honest do over, and she'd said nothing, until he hurt or killed someone... that made her just as guilty. The scars she bore across her eye were courtesy of Dawnhawk, a testament to the violence she knew he was capable of... she couldn't plead ignorance. She wouldn't.

Her body language was not encouraging, but he refused to unsheathe his claws. He was Falconmoon. Not Dawnhawk. When she asked, he didn't answer her first question. Her second one however, hurt.

"I am Falconmoon. I was Dawnhawk at one point, and I only just recently found out. It's still me. I think I am what my previous life would have been, had life not gotten so... messy. I have my memories back, but I promise you I have no desire to hurt anyone. That part of me is still very much alive. Its... Its hard for me to understand myself. I'm struggling, but I don't... I don't want the life I had before. My family loves me this time, and I love them."

He wasn't sure how convincing he was. A sudden unease washed over him. A sudden sense of creeping dread. He'd been in this situation before and it hadn't gone well. Slowly, non-threateningly, Falconmoon turned around and walked to the nearest tree. He just felt the need to be up higher. He wasn't comfortable on the ground with his... half sister? He didn't know what to call her now. His claws buried into the bark and he intended only to go up to the lowest branch of the spruce.

Maybe the elevation would help him feel a little bit better, but if she pursued... he'd likely keep climbing. He hadn't done anything wrong, so why did he feel so guilty? Why did he feel so uneasy?