Guess the Characters
(❗️Revealed Next Chapter❗️)

(*hint, not all r Riverclan*)

Crescentsky had somehow found herself hiding yet another secret. And it was keeping her awake late into the hours of the night.

Her festering haunch-wound. It throbbed with a deep, agonizing fury. All of the other ones were tolerable at best. But she was pretty sure that her torn leg now hosted infection. The scab that'd grown over it had turned a greenish-grey, and pus was oozing up along the cracks. If she put her nose really close to it, she could smell a fetid odor.

I really thought it was going to heal. Crescentsky sighed. Lying here resting didn't do me any good. What I really needed was infection-preventing herbs.

I wish I could leave camp. She wanted to find more answers. She wanted to use her power again before the wolves came, not be thrown into the brutality of another fight blindly, after nearly a quarter moon of no preparations.

Her thoughts were scrambling like a trio of trapped mice. Her and Tinyflame were supposed to have told their clan-mates by now. Yet how could they, when they had none of the answers that their clan would inevitably ask?

The wolves will return soon. Maybe tonight if we're unlucky. I have to be ready, no matter what.

You know what? Her inner voice challenged.

Whatever! If I can't get treated tonight or tomorrow then what's the point in sitting here?

So I can wait to die? I'm going anyways.

She lifted herself up from her flattened mossy nest, careful to keep the infected haunch lifted.

It didn't seem to matter. She hissed and clenched her teeth, fighting to suppress a yowl.

It's definitely gotten worse over the past two days!

She didn't bother telling Tinyflame or Cheetah. It would only worry them into following her, or worse- stopping her.

Crescentsky tiptoed around her clanmates nests, narrowly avoiding outstretched paws and tails. Her shallower injuries felt itchy and tight as they were stretched along her skin, but they only truly hurt if they were grazed along something.

The Riverclan warrior would have permanent scars along her chin and muzzle forever, but she didn't mind. Maybe they would compliment her weird-looking eyes.

After the switch she padded through the forest with her mind boggling from the experience. It still felt new and unsettling to be walking around at such a high stature. Her paws rustled every leaf and snapped every twig.

But what reason does a wolf have to care?

And yet, her vantage point was also her weakness. It was harder to look ahead while knowing where she was putting her paws down below. They felt too wide-spaced and versatile, as she zig-zagged in a slow loping pace between shadowy willow trees. Crescentsky lowered her head until her long muzzle was nearly touching the ground. Her lope fell into a more natural rhythm.

The Riverclan warrior slowed to a halt and shook out her fur again, changing within the span of a tail-flick.

Then she changed back, shaking out her fur again and again and again. She couldn't actually feel herself shrinking down or growing larger, no matter how hard she tried. She could not find any sort of existence between one form or the other. The morph was instant.

The action didn't slow down or weaken her. Crescentsky's breath increased in the slightest from the exhilaration, but that was all. Nothing happened to her, save for the coherent effect of feeling dizzy; from such a fast and repetitive height change. Even after her head was whirling she kept doing it, trying see if there was some sort of exhaustion point. She only stopped at the electrifying pain in her haunch.

How did Starclan do this? Is it so simple as giving a life? She tried to glimpse silverpelt past the outreaching tree branches, standing there in the body of her wolf.

Then the Riverclan warrior sped off in the moonlight night. She came to the conclusion that she couldn't properly gain speed here, and so she made way for the other side of the widest-flowing river in their territory, which led into the marshes. All the while, her hind limb pulled up and resting just beneath her belly, where it could not graze or drag along the earth.

Crescentsky soon realized that she couldn't breathe properly in order to get enough air while she ran. At first she slowed down, confused but greatful to put less strain on her haunch anyways. When she broke into the marshes she sped up again, opening her mouth and streaking through the wet ryegrass. Crickets jumped away from her barreling paws.

When she'd opened her mouth, her tongue had instinctively flopped out, and now she could draw in huge panting breaths. Her large lungs expanded easily, accommodating all the air that she needed to take in.

Oh, duh. I should've just panted. Cats often did just that, if they were in overbearingly hot weather.

Crescentsky drew up short as fresh cat scents flowed across her muzzle. Their mingled foreign scents were blowing straight towards her.

What's a group of loners doing out on the edge of our territory after sunfall?

Her fur prickled. She was caught off-guard and didn't know how to proceed. Initially, Crescentsky just stood there.

Oddly enough, one smelled slightly familiar, yet untraceable- while the other two were unknown to her. She caught sight of them when she lifted her dark head high above the surrounding landscape. They were walking in single-file with their heads bowed, tails sweeping the grass.

They look exhausted.

Crescentsky shook out her fur in order to change back quickly. Then she stepped forward, keeping her gait smooth and controlled.

I can handle them, whoever they are. They can't hurt me.

When she got close enough, Crescentsky realized she recognized the small throng of cats. At the lead was Nighthowl, and just behind him trekked Velvetpaw and Wolfpaw.

Crescentsky could tell that both of the apprentices had long surpassed warrior age. Velvetpaw was a soft-looking gray she-cat. She held her chin and tail high with an air of confidence. Not a single nick was etched along her ears, nor a scar carved anywhere on her shiny velvet pelt.

Wolfpaw was a grey-blue tom ticked with white. There were darker tones on his legs and tail. On the contrary to Velvetpaw, he had several gnarly scars along his neck and back.

The earth was so muddy under-paw that it sucked at Crescentsky's legs as she tried to take a step. Pain shot up her damaged haunch with every footfall. As she approached them, Nighthowl raised his voice in order to be heard over the chirruping crickets in the marshlands.

"Hello there. Are you happy to see me?" The shaggy tom asked with a hopeful disposition.

"I'd sooner say the opposite, actually, and I barely even know you."

"What's a Riverclan cat doing alone on the edge of her territory at night?" Wolfpaw spoke up, his voice curious and chary at the same time, as if he were warning her that that it was dangerous.

Crescentsky didn't bother to answer that. "A better question is why are you on my territory?"

"Woah, sorry. I meant no disrespect. I'm sure you can handle yourself." His eyes glittered as he looked over at her.

"We were chased from our dens tonight," Wolfpaw carried on swiftly. His silver pelt was stained cyan under the blue-tinged moon.

"The wolves have been coming closer and closer to our camp at the foot of the mountains. They're all growing skinnier and hungrier. Tonight they found our camp and trapped us."

"Oh. And...?"

Velvetpaw hissed at him when a brief silence ensued.

"Tell her how we got away, genius!"

"We got away by waiting for the right moment, then making a run for it."

Velvetpaw curled her lip. "I wish they'd just starve to death already. It shouldn't take this long."

Nighthowl kept trying to meet Crescentsky's gaze.

"It was a good camp, for awhile. But the hunting was getting harder with leaf-fall coming. We thought we could join you guys, and of course we'll help with the hunting and wolf-battling." It was the most genuine she had ever heard him.

"It's not any one cat's decision, but we do need extra paws. And you're clan cats. So follow me." She began to guide them.

Something felt off, though.

I remember Nighthowl mentioning that rebuilding the clans was a "false dream." So why'd he come here of all places? Why not flee the lake for a safer way of life, instead of coming here?

"I won't. I'm not risking my life," Velvetpaw said, flicking mud from her paws.

"What?" Crescentsky questioned. She'd been distracted by her own thoughts.

"I won't fight against the wolves. They killed all of my kin, besides Wolfpaw. You can't beat them. You can only outrun them."

Hearing such a thing caused Crescentsky to wither, but she also felt a little taken aback at how bluntly it was mentioned.

"I'm sorry, Velvetpaw. That sounds horrible."

"Well, you should be. It was. But I don't need your pity."

"Can't you be kinder, Velvetpaw?" Wolfpaw rolled his eyes, but his sister ignored him.

"I'm sorry... Crescentsky, isn't it?".

"Yeah. Uh, it's okay." She glanced at her paws airily, then back up at the tom.

"How'd you know my name?"

"Nighthowl. He spoke of you on the way. Quite kindly, might I add," Wolfpaw swished his tail and laughed.

Brilliant.

As they crossed back over the path that Crescentsky had used in the pelt of the wolf, Velvetpaw lifted her head.

"Smells like wolf over here, too. And it's fresh. They still hunt on the clan's territories?"

"Yes," the Riverclan warrior answered quickly.

"We'd better be careful, and hurry along." Nighthowl said. He pricked his ears and tasted the crisp night air. Crescentsky copied him.

"Didn't you notice her injuries already? They smell of infection." Wolfpaw asked, stopping beside Velvetpaw and elbowing her in the ribs.

She hissed as she drew away from him. "Of course I did, you fat frog-brained oaf!"

Wolfpaw gave a big hearty grin, because clearly she had not.

"What I always wonder is, why wouldn't they just leave, if they're starting to starve and it's only just leaf-fall? There has to be better prey for them beyond our borders. Something to sustain them for longer," Crescentsky thought out loud.

"Why don't any of us leave? Multiple reasons," Velvetpaw sounded snarky.

"Bet you can't list one." Wolfpaw crowed.

"Fear of losing our contact with Starclan."

"That's already happened," he responded.

"Fear of the unknown and what's out there. Having no leaders to guide us. Being a shell of a clan with less than even five warriors. Should I go on?"

"Yes, but the wolves don't have any of that either. As far as we know."

"Shut it!" The gray she-cat snapped.

"I'd rather they starve and die where they stand," she said nastily.

"I want to watch them suffer like we have. They might find other cats to kill and hunt along their travels, whether they live here or go somewhere else!"

Nighthowl threw her a glance and then slowly nodded.

"Yeah." He paused in their walking to have a good stretch.

"I just can't wait to reach a safe nest, where I won't be potentially killed in my sleep." The Shadowclan tom straightened and turned toward Crescentsky, winking before he walked on.

"Would you mind sharing your nest in the warriors den with me? I'll be awfully too tired to make myself one when we get there."

Nighthowl didn't meet her gaze this time, probably to avoid the rejection that he would find there.

Wolfpaw and Velvetpaw were looking at them. Crescentsky felt heat flush her pelt, and snapped out "There's unused nests in the apprentices den and the warriors den."

And nobody even said you could stay!

"We're of warrior age. We just don't have our names yet." Wolfpaw interjected. The tom had a stubborn-looking tuft of hair sticking up atop his forehead.

"I figured as much," Crescentsky replied mildly. She studied him from the corner of her eye.

His thick build wasn't all just fluff. He had strong, lean legs and primed muscles. And the tom's head and shoulders were up to hers.

"Why are you side-eyeing him for so long? If anything, I'm the cat to look at."

Crescentsky couldn't help herself. She visibly rolled her eyes and snapped her head in the other direction, determined not to look at either of them.

Starclan protect this tom, because I'm going to kill him!

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Wolfpaw & Velvetpaw (Kin siblings)