“The fire’s not yet in camp,” Goosetail delivered his news quickly, wasting no breath “But the overhang is gone. You can see us here for acres.” His strong voice wavered, and his pelt bristled, but he knew that his job was important. “My patrol couldn’t find any way through the trees to the south. And- and the escape route is blocked by a smoldering branch. Cats are waiting for your signal, but we’ll have to climb out of the ravine either way.”
Lightningstar nodded thoughtfully, clearing her throat. “The queens and elders must be gone by now?”
Goosetail dipped his head. “Feathershine,” he explained, allowing his thoughts to flicker briefly. Her herbs were abandoned, all of them would dry up and shrivel into dust. A waste of moons of effort. He clenched his teeth, imagining the same on a larger scale, the hazel and bracken dens of his home floating across the forest floor, nothing more than ash. He blinked rapidly. “Feathershine, trained as she is, knew something was wrong. She and the elders led the queens toward the wolflands. I should have listened to her when she said something was wrong,” he admitted.
His leader flicked her tail dismissively. “No time for guilt, Goosetail. I need you to put together parties- nobody will be left behind, or forced to find their way through the smoke alone. I’m sure that won’t be difficult for you.” Lightningstar’s face was somber, her yellow eyes flashing.
It was an easy task to convince his Clanmmates to escape camp. Five patrols, and every one of the remaining apprentices and warriors were on their way to wait by the river. The usual orders were given; stay low, don’t touch anything still sizzling, stay with your party. And they were gone.
Goosetail found himself, alone but for Lightningstar, in what had been the safest place he’d ever known. A ring of flames danced and shouted and taunted him from the top of the camp. The deputy sprinted between dens, calling names and desperately swiping his tongue across his lips to regain his sense of smell. CinderClan cats grew used to the smell of fire, over time, from the burns that happened every so often outside of their territory… but this was unbearable. He hadn’t strayed within ten fox-lengths of a flame, yet he felt as if his coat was going to melt off his back.
As he searched, and complained, the winds shifted.
A burst of heat spread into camp, dazzlingly bright shades of gold and umber scorched the camp. Goosetail hissed, reeling away from the fire as it chased him into camp. Lightningstar spoke from atop her den, but he couldn’t hear her, blood pounding in his ears. The warriors den caught aflame. Burning lavender filled the air with a sick sweetness, and Goosetail prepared to lead his leader out of camp, when he noticed a flash of white among the flames.
Almost before he could react, Lightningstar streaked past him, her long tail streaming behind her, and leaped straight through the flames. Goosetail felt a momentary disconnect between his paws and his heart. The fire licked his toes. He ran.
Goosetail ran until the world made sense again, and the night was dark. His eyes stung and pooled with tears and soot. He hissed and cried out as he slipped again and again on the dewy rocks beneath him. The air was cool and damp, it clung to his fur and soothed his skin. He turned at a noise behind him.
“Lightningstar?” He squinted at a tiny figure clambering up the hillside behind him. “Cloudnose!”
His warrior walked awkwardly, wheezing agonizingly. A once pure white coat was stained black and thoroughly bloodied. “Cloudnose, why aren’t you with your patrol?”
Cloudnose’s body quaked as he caught up to Goosetail. He didn’t speak. His round amber eyes reflected the moonlight. Goosetail realized that this was the cat he’d seen trapped in the warrior’s den- the cat Lightningstar had followed. Cloudnose shook his head before Goosetail could even open his mouth to ask where she was.
The ground swayed, and the stars spun in the sky. Shadows approached from the hills, tall and muscular. SlateClan.
The lead of the patrol, a ginger-and-white molly, went from composed and curious to outright shocked. She sped up, bounding nimbly across the rocks, slowing to a halt a few paces ahead of the duo.
“Why are they here?” An apprentice muttered “Isn’t that the deputy of CinderClan?” His mentor shushed him.
Goosetail went to speak, but choked on his own breath. He cursed, coughing. The stars kept reeling around his head. “I- “ he started. He couldn’t finish. He didn’t know how.
He and Cloudnose followed the SlateClan patrol up the mountain, only glancing once or twice back at the dying trees.
--
“And then what?” Wolfkit demanded, crunching the moss under her tiny claws. Her striped tail waved wildly behind her. “Did Goosetail go back home?”
Salmonblossom twitched her whiskers and glanced away to think. She leaned down and scooped her kit closer with her paws, and sighed. “Not yet. Goosetail died in SlateClan, because the smoke in his lungs couldn’t be cured even with mountain air.” Wolfkit blinked at her with wide blue eyes. “But,” Salmonblossom continued “His kit had kits, and she had kits- “
“And that was you and you had me!” Wolfkit squealed, rolling onto her spine and battering her mother’s chin with her hind paws. Salmonblossom purred.
“And Claykit.”
The littler molly peeked over her sister’s belly. Claykit’s pelt was ruffled with excitement, but she had a hesitant look in her eyes. Wolfkit flipped back onto her feet and reached over to grab at Claykit’s ears. Claykit hopped away from her sister and stumbled out of the nest into another queen.
“Don’t step on my kits,” Elktail hissed, sending Claykit scrabbling away from her again. The older queen shakes her head furiously. “And Salmonblossom, you must stop telling such horrific stories! I don’t need you giving my babies nightmares about some haunted forest,” she hissed.
Salmonblossom narrowed her eyes and tipped her head up, responding bitingly “I’ll foster the memory of my Clan whenever and wherever I want.” She lashed her tail, tugging Claykit back to into their nest. The kitten shivered and burrowed into her mother’s milky white chest. Her whiskers twitched nervously.
Elktail grumbled, but rested her chin back on her paws and curled her tail over her nose. “CinderClan isn’t your Clan, or any cat’s.”
The dried-out lichen crinkled beneath Wolfkit as she prowled around her kin. “How do you know all these stories?” She asked, and before being given an answer, “Your mom told you?”
“My mom told me,” Salmonblossom confirmed. “Back when I was a little mouse-tail like you. Goosetail died before his time, but he still told his kit all the stories he could before that. Not even the destruction of the forest could snuff out the legacy of such a great Clan. Gooestail’s kin have bravery in our blood. We descended from wolves, you know,” she winked at Wolfkit.
Claykit shivered and pressed her nose into her paws. “I hope I never see a fire like that,” she squeaked.
Wolfkit stumbled over her. “What does CinderClan’s forest look like?”
“Nobody knows,” Elktail spat immediately, “We don’t go there anymore.”
Salmonblossom shook out her long coat, purring. “Our forest was beautiful.
The trees towered, staying rich and green through every season, and with canopies big enough to stop any rain from reaching the forest floor. Soft golden grass- full of prey- reached above the heads of the tallest PineClan cat, keeping us safe and hidden and warm. The forest stretched forever, and the of ash in the air that all CinderClan warriors grew used to kept out any invaders that might threaten us. It was strong and safe and plentiful and absolutely perfect.”
She paused. “Fire brings destruction, as well as new life. Clearing the canopy gave new plants room and sunlight that let them grow. Seeds scattered on the breeze. Less dense prey leads to more diversity.
Someday, maybe soon, CinderClan’s forest will bloom again.”
