The pain in his shoulder refused to ebb. It made itself known in jolts that pierced through his chest and engulfed his stomach, making him coil into himself. The smell of infection, sour and unpleasant, filled his nose constantly when he was awake – thankfully, not often, as Mothpaw insisted he eat poppy seeds to help him sleep off his injury.

    But even the darkness held no comfort. It lit up in cream and grey splashes, blurs of fur that swirled with russets and ambers and dark, oozing reds. He woke feeling drained and with his shoulder once again throbbing. Across the den lay the still body of Crowpaw, not yet awakened from his dreamless sleep.

    "Is he going to make it?" Birchfrost asked when she came to check up on the patients with Dawnstar and Spiderthorn. The panic in her voice was thinly veiled, not well enough to escape the DarkClan leader's notice, and Nightchaser wanted to tell the guardian that her mask was slipping. But the poppy seeds were too strong and he found himself slipping off into the world of relived memories and painful reminders.

    With Lionmask gone, the rebels had lost a valuable asset, and the day of the attack drew closer and closer.

    Five sunrises after the fox attack, Nightchaser's shoulder finally felt strong enough to hold his weight. He got to his cramped paws, shaking the stiffness from his limbs slowly, and hobbled about the medicine den. The soft sound of his pawsteps and the laboured breathing of Crowpaw filled the hollow with an eeriness that made his fur rise.

    "Glad to see you're out of your nest." The voice startled Nightchaser and brought him crashing to the ground. Groaning, he turned to see Cedarheart in the den entrance, a pile of herbs at his paws. The tabby hurried over to help the tom back up.

    "Not for very long," Nightchaser answered, voice cracking from disuse. Hearing it, Cedarheart ducked into the medicine storage, returning with a wet ball of moss. Gratefully, the truth-teller lapped at the water.

    "Your run-in with that fox is the only reason why I'm still here," Cedarheart admitted. "Dawnstar was ready to have me killed, but with you, Crowpaw, and Jaystrike injured, and two of the guardians dead, she couldn't risk letting me go just yet."

    The black tom nodded. "Just under a moon left before our plan goes into action. The next new moon will mark DarkClan's downfall."

    Cedarheart swiped his striped tail over the truth-teller's mouth. "Mind you speak more quietly, and less frequently. The walls in this camp have ears." The tom's eyes darted about the den as he spoke.

    Nightchaser dipped his head in apology. "I only meant to calm you."

    The tabby frowned. "I can't say the thought of battle thrills me." He picked up the herbs he'd dropped at the entrance and disappeared into the adjacent storage.

    "Where's Mothpaw?" Nightchaser asked, noticing the she-cat's absence.

    "Tending to others," Cedarheart's muffled voice replied. "Something about a nasty battle training session. I believe Wrenpaw took it upon herself to claw Smoketalon's ears off."

    The black tom felt his blood turn cold. "Is Wrenpaw alright?"

    A soft chuckle came from the healer. "She's fine. I can't say the same for Smoketalon."

    The momentary relief was broken by another lance of pain from his shoulder. Realizing he'd been standing for too long, Nightchaser made his way back to his moss nest. Thinking of Wrenpaw, he wished she could be here now to comfort him and put his mind at ease. His injury, Crowpaw's comatose state, and Lionmask's death put a strain on their plans; if his shoulder gave out during the attack he was as good as dead.

    "Your guardians have been replaced," Cedarheart said as he emerged from the storage. "Sprucetail is replacing Pebblefur, and Flamestrike Lionmask.

    An uneasy feeling filled the truth-teller suddenly. Having Sprucetail as a guardian made planning their attack easier, but Flamestrike's appointment to guardian status made him suspicious. The tom was only fourteen moons old and, therefore, one of the youngest guardians in history. It was not unheard of, just highly unlikely.

    But, Nightchaser supposed his littermate had proven his worth with his excellent battle skills and devotion to DarkClan's teachings. His mask, if it was one, seemed unshakeable.

    "I'll make sure to congratulate them on their advancements," Nightchaser replied. Still, the feeling of being watched had returned and it stayed with him even as he fell back asleep.

    //

    Within the next few sunrises he found himself well enough to walk about the camp for short periods of time. The kits watched him curiously from the nursery for a while before Beetlekit, the bravest of the six, took it upon herself to copy the truth-teller's every move. Before long, Nightchaser had a train of kits following him everywhere he went.

    "How about a story instead?" he said, shoulder throbbing as he settled near his log.

    "No, a game of moss ball!" Rainkit whined.

    "But moss ball is so boring, it's all you ever want to play," retorted Reedkit.

    "Don't be rude to your littermate, Reedkit," came Cinderblossom's soft admonishment. She drew the brown kit closer to her and gave him a proper lick across the head to clean the dust that had settled in the kit's fur. "I wouldn't mind hearing a story."

    "Me neither," piped up Lightkit. Beetlekit huffed in displeasure at her interrupted game of follow-the-truth-teller, but did not say anything more. Stormkit and Yewkit looked between their two littermates before turning expectantly to Nightchaser.

    "Have any of you heard the story of Nettleflight?" The kits shook their heads and even Cinderblossom, who had heard most of the truth-teller's stories, paused. Her hesitation was for good reason – Nightchaser made sure to pick a story none of them had ever heard.

    Scanning the area for signs of Dawnstar, he cleared his throat. "Nettleflight lived many, many years ago, back when Pheasantstar was leader and Ripplevoice his truth-teller. Now, Nettleflight was no ordinary warrior. She was said to be the fastest in all of DarkClan, quick enough to catch rabbits who scented her before she could pounce. Her speed matched her durability and she was often chosen to sit watch through the night, never once falling asleep while on duty.

    "She also, however, had a downfall: her care for others. Nettleflight found herself helping everyone, spending extra time training the apprentices whose mentors had given up on them, pulling thorns from pads on hunting patrols, and bringing the scraps of her meals to the caretakers.

    "Slowly, this attracted the attention of Pheasantstar, who found Nettleflight most attractive because of her dedication to the Clan. He became so enamoured with her that he invited her to his den as the sun set, staying up late into the night discussing the Clan and possible changes that could be made. One of these changes suggested life-long pairings rather than new pairings every season cycle; not knowing that, with the change of this age-old DarkClan rule, Pheasantstar planned to make Nettleflight his mate, she readily agreed. For moons now, she and Raventail had been sneaking out of camp to see each other and, after so many nights spent advising Pheasantstar, Nettleflight believed he would grant her pairing approval.

    "But the ruling was not accepted by the guardians and Pheasantstar knew he could not change it for fear of causing a riot within the Clan. Angered, he set out to find Nettleflight but found her missing from the camp."

    A small gasp escaped Lightkit's mouth as she realized what this meant and the rest of the kits chorused the sentiment soon after.

    "He found her and Raventail curled up beneath the lone willow tree on RockClan's old territory and, thrown into a rage, threw himself at the other tom. Raventail's dying scream woke Nettleflight, but by that time Pheasantstar was already upon her.

    "That same night, the pairings were announced and, among them, were Pheasantstar and Nettleflight. She gave birth to three healthy kits two moons later – two pale brown and the third black as night. She named them Leafkit, Woodkit, and Crowkit.

    "Pheasantstar was not pleased with the black tom kit and took it upon himself to dispose of the kit he knew was not his own. In the middle of the night, he crept into the nursery on silent paws, waiting to strike.

    "But Nettleflight, after seasons of guarding the camp at night, now watched her kits with the same devotion and when Pheasantstar crept into the nursery under the cover of night she knew immediately what he meant to do. In a heartbeat, she had him flat on the ground, claws at his throat.

    "She did not kill him, however. She did not believe in that. Instead, she told him to renounce his leadership and leave DarkClan forever. Pheasantstar agreed to the terms and, the next day, made an utter fool of himself before the Clan. Goldenclaw took his place and drove him out of the territory, leaving Nettleflight and her kits safe.

    "Leafkit, Woodkit, and Crowkit grew into fine apprentices and even finer warriors. Nettleflight remained kind and compassionate, helping others within the Clan and strengthening its ranks. Though sadness sometimes filled her at being robbed of a life with Raventail, she never regretted letting Pheasantstar go without a scratch. No one deserved a fate like Raventail, not even his killer.

    "And so, she died at a ripe old age, taken by death in her sleep. The Clan remembered her as strong and hard-working, always supportive of young apprentices and warriors, and incredibly optimistic about even the darkest things in life. Her kindness did not make her weak – it made her strong. And that is why, even after so many years, we still remember her."

    His white-rimmed eyes settled on Cinderblossom as he finished his story, noticing the sheen over her hazel eyes. The kits continued to look up at him, mouths spread in little 'o' shapes as he concluded Nettleflight's story.

    "Did Leafkit, Woodkit, and Crowkit become famous like their mother?" Lightkit asked before Nightchaser could dismiss them.

    He purred. "That's a story for another time. My shoulder's beginning to cramp." He rose to his paws, shaking the dust out of his fur. Beetlekit was the first to jump up, eager to continue her game.

    "Time to go to the nursery, kits," Cinderblossom said quietly, swishing her tail over their heads. "It's nearly sunset, and you all still need a good grooming."

    Loud protests sounded but the caretaker was resolute. Nightchaser helped his littermate herd the tired kits to the nursery, catching a run-away Beetlekit with his good paw as she tried to get away.

    "Tomorrow we can play again," he promised and the black kit acquiesced. Watching her disappear into the nursery, he was suddenly struck by her similarity to Spiderthorn and, in extension, him.

    Before Cinderblossom could move to follow, Nightchaser stopped her. She did not meet his eyes, but obediently remained still.

    He leaned in closer. "I know."

    Her body shook violently with a sob but she reined it in momentarily, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

    "You'll be safe within the moon," he promised. "The night of the new moon, we strike."

    The words seemed to calm her and she only nodded mutely before following the kits inside. Nightchaser stood for a moment longer, flicking his tail in farewell at the kits.

    His shoulder stung again but Nightchaser did not yet want to retire to his den. Too long he had been cooped up in the medicine den recuperating and the best thing to get his shoulder working properly again would be to stretch out the sore, but recovered, muscles. Instead of turning back to his den, he padded over to the apprentices.

    "Feeling better?" Bramblepaw asked as the truth-teller approached. Even sitting down, the brown tabby's tail flicked uncontrollably. Nightchaser purred at the memory of Bramblekit's energetic tumbling; clearly, some things didn't change.

    "I'm walking again," he responded, pacing back and forth in front of the apprentice den to keep himself moving.

    "Well don't let me stop you," Bramblepaw said, stretching. "I'll be off on a dusk patrol soon anyway." Shadepaw emerged from the den behind him, yawning, evidently also on patrol duty.

    "There you are!" Webpaw's voice reached them as she padded up with Wrenpaw by her side. Shadepaw seemed surprised by the smaller she-cat's bossy tone.

    "Oakshade told me to rest before patrol duty," he replied gruffly, shooting the grey apprentice a disdainful look.

    "Well he must have forgotten because he couldn't seem to find you," she replied tartly. "Our patrol will be leaving soon, so we should probably get going." Webpaw nodded quickly to Nightchaser before running off to join her mentor.

    "What's got her tail in a knot?" Shadepaw muttered before moving after her.

    "Her littermate's in the healer's den," Wrenpaw answered so quietly only Nightchaser heard her. Webpaw did seem off-kilter and a lot more antsy than usual – making her even more rash and quick to act than normal – and her littermate's injured state was a very probable reason.

    "How about you? Are you alright?" The affection in Wrenpaw's copper eyes was unmistakeable and Nightchaser felt himself shifting uncomfortably, hoping no one was watching. At the same time, he yearned to brush his fur against hers and to feel the calm that came with her warmth.

    "Actually, I wouldn't mind taking a walk outside of the camp," he replied. "Stretch my legs out a little more, get this shoulder moving."

    Wrenpaw brightened considerably at his words, already heading for the camp entrance. Nightchaser lashed his tail out, catching her back leg.

    "Not that way," he mouthed, tilting his head to the apprentice den. Glancing about to ensure no one watched, he slipped into the den. The hole he and Flamestrike used to sneak out during the night was well-covered but not sealed and he slipped out easily, Wrenpaw right behind him.

    They remained silent as they travelled, Nightchaser leading the way to the moors. The SeaClan coast would be too cold, and the salt would only stiffen his shoulder, and he had no intention of returning to RockClan's forest so soon after the fox attack.

    The setting sun streaked the blue sky with ochre and crimson, the faintest of lavenders tinging the outer edges. The moor grasses turned a brilliant gold all around them, swaying as they passed through their ranks. Finally, after a much slowed journey, they reached the old MoorClan camp.

    Wrenpaw leaped atop the rock, gazing out at the sunset. Watching her from below, Nightchaser admired the way her copper eyes glowed and how the golden sun framed her silhouette in a brilliant light. He purred happily and, when she turned to look at him, he felt his chest might explode with all the emotion trapped in it for so long.

    "What are you thinking about?" she asked, joining him at the foot of the rock.

    Nightchaser swallowed down the lump in his throat, unsure how to put his feelings into words. She watched him patiently with her large eyes, content and happiness swirling in their depths.

    "Just how beautiful you are," he finally replied. She looked away, fur growing hot; he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

    "You think so?" she asked tentatively, drawing a paw self-consciously over her big ears.

    "Too beautiful for words," he assured her, pressing his nose to hers. She sighed softly.

    They settled into a comfortable silence, watching the sunset together; her with her head on his good shoulder and he with his head resting on hers. The dark oranges and deep purples slowly faded from the sky, leaving behind an inky blue with just the faintest threads of plum.

    "What are you thinking about?" he asked her as the sun disappeared.

    She paused. "How much I want to spend the night curled up beside you."

    Nightchaser's heart leaped. "I would love that too."

    Wrenpaw shifted away, suddenly worried. "But what if they find us?"

    He shook his head; he refused to let DarkClan ruin what they had. "Don't think about that. In under a moon we will forever be free of them."

    Her eyes shone in the darkness, absolutely joy filling them as she thought about the prospect of a DarkClan-free world. She pushed her head into his chest, breathing him in, and he let himself relax, timing his breaths with hers.

    She yawned as she pulled away and he stifled a purr. Blinking her eyes sleepily, she got to her paws, padding over to a tunnel entrance before glancing back.

    "Coming?"

    He let his eyes linger on her beautiful form for a moment longer before replying.

    "Right behind you."

// Posting this tonight because I have a wild weekend ahead and I'm worried I won't have time/access to Wattpad tomorrow to update. So here it is! Slowly getting to the end of the story here (: