Emberfall's POV

Sunlight filtered through the canopy, dappling the forest floor as I stood, sides heaving, the thrush's faint heartbeat still fluttering against my tongue. Its feathers clung to my jaws, bitter with the tang of fear and pine sap. I'd chased it halfway across the territory—through brambles that snagged my fur and over rocks that scraped my pads—but the thrill of the catch still hummed in my veins like a fresh-kill rush.

Cloudtail's pawsteps crunched softly behind me, his scent mingling with the crisp leaf-fall air before his voice rumbled. "Well done," he purred, the warmth in his tone smoothing the ache in my muscles. His fluffy white tail brushed my flank as he leaned in, nose pressing briefly to my shoulder. "That's a fine catch. Swift and clean. No torn feathers."

Pride swelled in my chest, fierce as a flame. I dropped the thrush, its russet plumage gleaming against the moss. "Thanks," I panted, shaking debris from my pelt. The praise settled deeper than the exhaustion, kindling a spark in my belly. He noticed. He actually noticed.

"You've been improving," Cloudtail added, his blue eyes sharp yet fond. "Last moon, you'd have tripped over your own tail chasing prey through this thicket. Now?" His whiskers twitched. "Keep this up, and you'll outhunt even Brightheart by leaf-bare."

I flicked my tail, claws kneading the earth playfully. "Maybe next time I'll drag back a squirrel and a starling," I teased, though my voice wavered with lingering breathlessness.

Cloudtail snorted, cuffing my ear lightly with a paw. "Don't get ahead of yourself, fire-pelt. One thrush at a time." He nodded toward the camp, shadows lengthening as the sun dipped. "Come. Let's get this back before some elder starts yowling about empty bellies."

As we padded through the ferns, the thrush swinging from my jaws, I stole a glance at Cloudtail. His head was high, shoulders relaxed—a warrior who'd seen countless battles, yet still found pride in a single hunt. In that moment, I vowed silently to the stars above: I'll make you prouder still.

The camp's thorn tunnel loomed ahead, alive with the murmurs of the Clan. And for once, the weight of the thrush felt lighter than the hope in my heart.

SCENEBREAK

The camp buzzed with the hum of clan life as BrambleStar stepped forward, his amber eyes glinting like sunlight on water. His broad shoulders cast a shadow over me, but his presence was anything but intimidating. "Well done, Emberfall," he rumbled, his voice steady and warm, like the earth beneath my paws.

Before I could stammer a reply, he leaned in, his nose brushing mine—a gesture so rare, so deeply meaningful, that my chest tightened. "You're making your mother proud," he added, his gaze unwavering.

The mention of her sent a pang through me, sharp and sweet all at once. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Thank you, BrambleStar," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Cloudtail's purr rumbled beside me, a low, comforting sound. "Told you you'd make the clan proud," he teased, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

I set the thrush on the fresh-kill pile, the weight of the day's hunt lifting from my shoulders. But as I padded toward the warriors' den, the air felt heavier, the shadows longer. The den was empty, the usual scent of moss and resting clanmates replaced by an eerie stillness.

Before I could settle into my nest, Cloudtail's pawsteps followed me, hesitant and soft. I turned, meeting his gaze. His blue eyes, usually so bright and confident, held something unfamiliar—a flicker of vulnerability that made my fur prickle.

"Hey, Emberfall," he mewed, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

I tilted my head, my heart thudding uncomfortably. "What is it?" I asked, though a part of me already knew.

He took a step closer, his tail twitching nervously. "Do you... want to become my mate?"

The words hit me like a falling branch, knocking the air from my lungs. I froze, my claws digging into the soft earth of the den floor. "Cloudtail, I..." I stammered, my mind racing. "We're kin. Fireheart was your uncle, and—"

He cut me off with a soft shake of his head, his expression earnest. "Kin by blood, yes," he admitted, his voice steady despite the uncertainty in his eyes. "But not by heart. Not by choice."

I stared at him, my thoughts a whirlwind. Cloudtail had always been there—a constant presence, a mentor, a friend. But this? This was something entirely different.

"I don't know," I murmured at last, my voice barely audible. "I need time to think."

He nodded, his gaze softening. "Take all the time you need," he said, his tone gentle. "I'll be here."

As he turned and padded out of the den, I sank into my nest, my mind spinning. The weight of his question lingered, heavy and unshakable. And for the first time in moons, I felt the weight of more than just duty pressing down on me.