nothing is broken...yet

[blue]

Oh yeah, his earlier suspicions were right. These two were definitely up to something. There was no other reason for Vixenfang to turn on him so suddenly, so fiercely. To be so against him just because he approached her and Hawkfang on neutral ground. Actually, it was a little nerve wracking. Having ThunderClan deputy turn on you when she was talking amiably to one of his clanmates just moments before. Even if the she-cat was rather small and scrampy looking, Shrewclaw decided that he wouldn't want her turning on him ever. Befriending her would be logical.

That is, if she would flatten her fur and be civil. “Lay your fur,” he growled, feeling rather hopeless in his words, but speaking them anyway. “I'm not intimidating enough to be a threat.” That was true. He wasn't built largely and definitely couldn't come off as a threat to anything with trying very hard, which he wasn't. Then again, these were both small cats, fraternizing with enemy warriors, smack in the middle of abandoned clan territory. One could spend hours wondering why they were there.

Especially considering Vixenfang's reaction. Only so many things could fuel that reaction. Considering the two in front of him, Shrewclaw jumped straight to a forbidden relationship. After all, they were tom and she-cat, both from different clans. But studying the two closer... well, that assumption seemed highly unlikely with each passing second. These two cats didn't look like they had just caught romanticizing each other. No, they look (and acted) a lot more... jumpy. Like they knew something no one else did.

Shrewclaw was vaguely reminded of little kits that kept big secrets.

But no, back to the reasoning. Two cats, different clans, abandoned territory. Besides the romance, Shrewclaw just couldn't think of a reason these cats would be meeting, and it was so frustrating. Why must cats be so hard to understand sometimes? Couldn't they just have an obvious sign of what they were doing plastered over their face? It made interacting with them so much easier. And less tension would be formed to, as no one would have any StarClan forsaken secrets to keep! Shrewclaw frowned, relaxing just as Vixenfang then, reverting back to his friendly exterior.

“Shrewclaw, of RiverClan. It's an honor to meet you, Vixenfang.” Sure, he had seen the she-cat around before. But Shrewclaw had never actually bothered to speak with the deputy, nor make her acquaintance in anyway. He acknowledged Hawkfang with a short nod and soft smile, trusting his own clanmate much more than this deputy who almost looked like she was going to claw his ears off. At least she was settled, and somewhat civil, now.

“Focus on what, Hawkfang?” He asked, addressing the smaller warrior. “Whatever you two having going on?”

[{Otter}]

Oh, what a crappy traitor she was turning out to be. Jumpy when she heard the slightest noise, freaking out when she was caught off-guard just by a little bit. She didn't doubt that Shrewclaw was jumping to conclusions. Surely her jittery attitude would spark suspicion, although, by all accounts, she had just been startled. You were only so startled because of what has been going on, she reminded herself. This was so unlike her. She was usually so focused, so on top of things. Was treachery beginning to destroy her? Enough of that, she thought angrily. There are more important things to think about than your doggone insecurities. Insecurities she had never had before.

"You startled me, is all," she mewed stiffly in reply to his first statement. She'd rather be thought of as a naturally-jittery cat than one calling for suspicious thoughts. His next words came and went sourly into her ears, and she smirked. An honor to meet her, eh? Not. She didn't appreciate his amiable mood. You say what you want or say nothing at all. Don't start trying to sugarcoat or beat around the bush, mousebrain. I don't fall for that, she thought in irritation. If there was one thing that rubbed Vixenfang's fur the wrong way, it was smalltalk. Pointless words.

So focused on her own problems had she been that Vixenfang hadn't even heard Hawkfang's hissed word...the word that very well may be their undoing. In fact, she thought the was doing a marvelous job at holding up an act. Sure, he had the advantage of actually knowing this "Shrewclaw" and being Clanmates with him, but even so, he seemed very level-headed now. She was glad he was on her side...or was he? Faced with a Clanmate and a traitor, which could he choose? Clanmate, of course. But she wasn't worried. This was neutral ground. No attacks should happen here.

“Focus on what, Hawkfang? Whatever you two having going on?”

She was startled, but oddly relieved. Thank StarClan. Down to the real reason he was talking to them! Perhaps the opposite of what was expected or was wise, Vixenfang relaxed even more. Her ears perked forward and her tail stopped its nervous lashing. No, this was good. Truth. Honesty. No more ridiculous formalities. She could respect that. No need to sneer at a cat that knew how to get down to business.

And of course he was suspicious. Two enemy cats chatting together on the open moorlands? Any cat with half a brain would be suspicious. But what did one say to such an accusation? Nothing, she decided. He was addressing Hawkfang, after all.

[tenacious]

Hardly intimidating enough to be a threat. Perhaps to another warrior who underestimated cats smaller then them, but he and Vixenfang was small to begin with. Though Shrewclaw certainly hadn't come in with a hostile manner...bah, Hawkfang didn't wish to ponder over a puzzle that would only led him in an endless circle. The tom studied Shrewclaw as Vixenfang addressed him, his blue eyes narrowed. What was the other warrior doing in the moorland? He hadn't seemed like a cat that would've been interested before; then again, Hawkfang spent most of his time in camp with Ottersplash or by himself. He didn't bother to socialize often, espiecally with cats around his age.

The tom was pulled from his thoughts by Shrewclaw beginning to address him. Foxdung- why did he have to say that outloud? And what could he say? Oh, I'm planning to possibly rebuild WindClan with Vixenfang over here, even though, as she has said befoe, it's a treacherous and absoutely horrible thing to do. 'Cause, you know, we'll be leaving our Clans. Possibly during Leaf-bare.

No. Hawkfang had more tact then that.

He sank into thought for a moment. Ah, well, he had come out here to hunt originally. So that wouldn't be a lie, right? But he still couldn't help feeling jumpy as he replied, whiskers twitching, something that usually happened when the tom was lying, "Focus on the scents. I certainly should've been aware of you coming, Shrewclaw, to begin with," Hawkfang frowned slightly.

He would have to perfect his excuses. They were dreadful at the moment.

[blue]

Ah, if he had known today would be full of riddles and digging around, Shrewclaw might have stayed in his nest. He was never one for problem solving, nor was he much of a sweet talker. The only way he could get information from cats was to be blunt, and sort of rude, about it. And when two cats were scheming like these two obvious bozos, well, being blunt wasn't exactly the right way to go about it.

To get information from cats like these guys, one had to be sly. And sly was just not in Shrewclaw's vocabulary. Which, of course, meant he had some serious problems right now. He wanted to know what was going on between these two, he really did, and he wasn't afraid to be blunt or keep secrets about it. As long as it wasn't, oh, something that would result in a lot of deaths. Like some sort of giant, feline massacre.


He almost shivered at the thought.

No. These two weren't the type of cats to plan something as horrendous as that. Hawkfang was a good warrior, from what Shrewclaw knew about him. And Vixenfang was deputy - she had to be a good cat. There was no doubt in Shrewclaw's mind that whatever these two were planning was violent or would result in many deaths.

Again his thoughts traced back to the romance thing. He almost chuckled, but stopped himself when he realized it would bring about questions. Then again, the questions they asked could lead to the answers he wanted. Actually, a lot of things could lead to the answers he wanted. Shrewclaw could think of quite a few, besides just bluntly asking what they really were doing. Because a lame hunting answer was not going to satisfy his curiosity.

"I apologize for that, then." Of course, he really hadn't meant to startle the two. Startling would lead to nervousness or wariness, which would make them unwilling to share what was going on between them. And StarClan forbid if that happened. Shrewclaw just might go mad if that happened. Because he really wanted to know what was going on. They were on WindClan territory, after all! No one just came here to hunt and 'accidentally' bump into a member of another clan.

"The wind was on my side, Hawkfang," the warrior said with a shrug, pale eyes narrowed slightly. "But no, surely you wouldn't be talking to yourself for a little thing such as that?"

[tenacious]

Would he get in trouble for smacking Shrewclaw? Or Vixenfang? He just wanted to hit someone. Hawkfang was nervous and that never worked well; he got too tense and turned into a grouchy sort of cat. The RiverClan warrior forced himself to breathe for a few moments before thinking over Shrewclaw's new question.

Of course he wouldn't be talking to himself about something so silly; hunting rabbits was one of the things Hawkfang did not need to think about, for one, and two, no other cat would be interested and Hawkfang didn't like to hear himself talk. A large part of the brown tabby wanted to just tell Shrewclaw, but he couldn't risk the other cat running off to alert someone. Hawkfang didn't want to be marked as a traitor and possibly exiled.

His mind wandered to the Thunderpath; would it hurt a lot?

Come off it! You're not going to be exiled. You're not going to get run oer by a monster! So just stop thinking like that. Hawkfang thought, a light growl, that would not be audible to the other two cats, slipped into the air.

"I've been hanging around Ottersplash- he talks a lot. Espiecally to himself. It rubs off on me," Hawkfang mewed quickly and it wasn't really a lie. He had been with Ottersplash, after all, it was just that the other warrior didn't usually influence Hawkfang's behavior like that. But it was a better excuse then hunting.

Maybe this was why Rookstar hadn't made him deputy- he was wise. A little arrogant sometimes, but wise. He was horrible at keeping things secret. I've never had to before, Hawkfang argued with himself silently. It would come in time, like everything; only a few cats were born natural liars, after all.

Focus!

He reminded himself silently this time and the RiverClan warrior looked at Vixenfang for a moment, trying to read her reaction before returning his gaze to Shrewclaw. Maybe he should just shut up...surely Vixenfang would be better at making excuses? Yes, he'd shut up for the most part now.

[{Otter}]

A heavy sigh escaped Vixenfang's lips. It had nothing to do with nervousness, but everything to do with impatience. She would have to practice all this political talking and facade-keeping. At the moment, though, she had little endurance for such things. She didn't like to lie.

"Focus on the scents. I certainly should've been aware of you coming, Shrewclaw, to begin with."

Bah, it wasn't the fact that this was a horrible excuse that bothered her, but rather the fact that they needed excuses! She, like Hawkfang, had never had to hide anything before. She'd never had to lie. She'd never done anything worse than eating before feeding the elders or going too far in battle.

Naturally, like any cat with half a brain, Shrewclaw didn't fall for the excuse. And again, instead of pretending he believed them and trying to coax the truth out, he was honest. Bluntly honest. She liked that. Untactful, perhaps, but worthy of great respect in her eyes. After all, if he believed she and Hawkfang were up to something, it took a lot of guts to say it so bluntly. They could, after all, attack him. He was bigger than each of them, but not by much, and two against one was hopeless for most warriors.

Great StarClan, what was happening to her? Somehow she had ceased to think of any cat of a different Clan as a rival, and instead now thought of them as potential WindClanners. Shrewclaw's size wasn't impressively small, but he wouldn't be hopeless out here, she knew. Maybe....

No. Enough of that. She caught Hawkfang glancing at her, though she couldn't read his expression, and realized they were waiting for her to say something. But what did she say? She could think of no excuses that wouldn't sound ridiculous. So she decided to wing it.

"I am interested to see who might end up gaining the moor, RiverClan or ShadowClan," she began slowly, choosing her words carefully. It didn't seem strange, did it, that she was so interested? Surely not. "What cat in their right mind wouldn't be? Therefore, as this land belongs to no Clan yet," she said this pointedly, wanting to be sure they were all on the same page: she was not trespassing, "I came out here to hunt, but also to see how many cats might be up here." Yes, this was good. She only hoped her words wouldn't come back to haunt her. "I am rather surprised to see that, though your Clan and ShadowClan expressed such interest in this land, there are scarcely any cats up here trying to get used to hunting in this kind of terrain. Hawkfang, here, is the only cat I've seen so far. You are a surprising second. No ShadowClan, so far."

[blue]

Shrewclaw could practically feel his brain itching, struggling to piece together each bit of information he was given, aiming for a conclusion that refused to present itself to him. The excuses both cats were giving were just that - excuses. Though Vixenfang's was much more believable than Hawkfang's. No matter how talkative Ottersplash was, Shrewclaw didn't see the possibility of it rubbing off on Hawkfang like that. Besides, the reasoning was a horrible one to begin with. Should have scented him earlier - hah! The wind was with him, the two shouldn't have been able to scent him as well as they had.

But he said nothing. Shrewclaw would not allow the others to know just how suspicious and curious he was of them. No, if he came off slightly more clueless than he was, perhaps they'd let something slip. Perhaps it'd be that final piece he'd need to put everything together. Or perhaps it would lead to that final piece. Shrewclaw didn't particularly care, he just wanted it out and done with, so he could go back to hunting on the moor and whatever warrior duties he was stuck with today.

"RiverClan, of course," he said without thinking, practically to himself. It had become a sort of... habit, lately. Constantly saying or thinking that no matter what, RiverClan would take the moor. Those ShadowClan cats weren't deserving of the open territory, anyway. Plus, from the looks of things, RiverClan was better suited and more practiced in hunting here. And that wasn't just his preference to the meadow speaking.

"And you are mistaken, Vixenfang. This territory does belong to a clan - WindClan". That was what Shrewclaw believed, at least. Until another clan truly took it over, the moor would forever be WindClan's. "But yes, what cat in their right mind would not want the moor? Which leads you to wonder what Elkstar was thinking, if you don't mind me saying, Vixenfang." He stopped there, not wanting to egg the deputy into doing something violent or snappish. Shrewclaw had no desire for a fight at the moment, even if he was larger than the she-cat. Vixenfang was deputy for a reason, after all. It wasn't like she couldn't hold her own. "Besides, I think we can all agree that ShadowClan is full of idiots. It's their pride that drives them for the moor... not any real desire to rule these lands."

[tenacious]

Yes, it was best to let Vixenfang do the talking. Hawkfang knew that, somehow, he’d talk himself into a corner and not a very good one from protection, either. At least Vixenfang’s excuses made sense. He flicked an ear as Shrewclaw mewed: “RiverClan, of course.”

It seemed like an auto response of sorts, something the tom didn’t mean to say out loud and probably hadn’t thought about a whole lot. Lucky Vixenfang wasn’t a ShadowClan warrior; he highly doubted the little chat the trio was having would’ve gotten this far without a scrimmage. Hawkfang stifled a sigh- he would also have far more questions to answer if Vixenfang was from ShadowClan. No loyal warrior went chatting with a cat from a Clan his own was challenging, after all. But, Hawkfang knew, if the idea had been brought up by a ShadowClan cat, he would’ve gone along. His paws itched to be on the moor day and night, rather then dipping into the river to catch fish that tasted rather watery at times.

Did that mean he wasn’t loyal?

For a moment, a mixture of emotions flooded the tom’s blue eyes, but it faded quickly, vanishing as soon as he blinked. He was pulled away from thoughts of disloyalty by Shrewclaw. He had missed Vixenfang’s words, but Hawkfang was able to guess by what the warrior was saying.

“This territory does belong to a Clan- WindClan.”

Breath caught in his throat, the RiverClan cat found himself studying Shrewclaw closer. Could it be…he forced himself to take a breathe, fighting back a smile. Shrewclaw seemed to believe that WindClan owned the moors, but they were gone. Would he be one of the many cats that simply accepted that? Would he still be one of the cats that would counter any planning to bring WindClan back? He was arguing with himself again, for surely Shrewclaw couldn’t be! He had said it. The moor was WindClan’s. It would never be RiverClan’s and StarClan forbid fools like ShadowClan got a hold of it.

“Hear, hear,” Hawkfang chuckled lightly, figuring it was safe to at least agree with the fact that ShadowClan was full of fools.

After all, that couldn't possibly drive him into a corner...right?

[{Otter}]

She smirked ever so slightly at his outburst of "RiverClan, of course." At least he was confident in his Clan, that was nice. Too bad that, if all went well for Vixenfang and Hawkfang, RiverClan would certainly not be getting the moors.

"And you are mistaken, Vixenfang. This territory does belong to a clan - WindClan".

She focused on this and ignored the rest of his words. She was not about to start defending Elkstar's decision to say out of the fight; she might crack and reveal how much she hated the choice her leader had made. That, she knew, would not be a wise thing to do.

His words, though...they were surprising. She wondered what Hawkfang thought of them, but when she glanced at him, she couldn't read his expression. The moors belonged to WindClan? Oh yes, that was very true. But did Shrewclaw truly believe this, or was he simply saying it to continue the conversation? Being one who was very poor at reading facial expressions and voice tones, Vixenfang truly had no idea.

Again, her amber eyes traveled over the warrior's body. Surely he was fast enough to be a WindClan cat. Not very small, no, but not big, either. With a few moons of running across the moors, he'd be as fast as any WindClan cat, she was sure. He just needed practice, since his body wasn't already perfectly made for it.

But he looked too loyal. He looked like the kind of cat who would never dream of leaving his Clan. Then again, I never thought I was that kind of cat, either, she reminded herself briefly. But Hawkfang hadn't given her any kind of glance or anything, so she had no idea what he was thinking. Surely Hawkfang would know if there was any chance at getting Shrewclaw to join them. Surely he would have hinted at it somehow. So...what did they do now?

"Yes, the moors do belong to WindClan," she replied firmly, dipping her head to the warrior. "And Elkstar respects that. ThunderClan does not need more food, and so she figures the moors should be left to the ancestors who watch over them. I can't say I agree with RiverClan and ShadowClan's interest in fighting for it, when so few warriors could be successful out here."

Eh, that was good enough. Perhaps she could get Shrewclaw to talking now.

((Crappy, sorry x.x))

[blue]

Aha, now that drew a response from the two cat. Not that it shouldn't have, though. Shrewclaw had heard them speaking about WindClan before he made his presence known, and they were standing in WindClan territory. So bringing up WindClan should elicit a response of sorts from Hawkfang and Vixenfang. However, it was the nature of responses that shocked him. Neither cat had bothered to correct him. Shrewclaw had expected something of a complaint from Hawkfang, defending RiverClan. And perhaps a correct from Vixenfang that the territory really was vacant.

Just more pieces to the puzzle, the tom thought, eyes narrowed against the wind. A puzzle that kept getting larger, and more complicated. Not that he didn't enjoy the challenge, Shrewclaw hadn't felt compelled to solve something like this in a long, long time. Already he could imagine the glee he would get from determining what these two cats were up to. Hopefully, though, it wouldn't involve him having to go to Rookstar. Hawkfang was a good cat, he didn't want to call the brown tom out.

"I do believe our formal reason would be prey," he said slowly, nodding. Vixenfang had a point. ThunderClan had a whole forest, and even in Leaf-Bare they were better fed than most of the other cats. It wasn't like all the mice in there could migrate downriver, like fish could. "However, I could care less about the possibilities of more fresh-kill the moor offers." He stopped himself there, unwilling to press that particular matter.

"And Elkstar made a right decision. There's no need to shed ThunderClan blood for something like this." And if it didn't mean ShadowClan taking the moor right from under his nose, Shrewclaw was sure he would try persuading Rookstar to stop fighting for the open territory, and leave it to any cat who pleased.

He closed his eyes, listening to the wind for a split second, before facing Vixenfang again, tail wrapped firmly around his paws. "WindClan were the only ones meant for this moor. And they'll always be the only cats who can live, hunt, and fight on such territory." He felt rather philosophical all of a sudden. "That doesn't take a lot of brain power to understand."

And yet, here he was, playing with the thoughts of living on the moor like he had been raised here. Shrewclaw was many things, but a hypocrite was not one of them.

[tenacious]

WindClan were the only ones meant for this moor…the words whirled around in Hawkfang’s brain like some sort of vicious tornado. He stared at his paws, trapped in thoughts. Would it be right to tell Shrewclaw what they were planning? Hawkfang did not know the tom well; he did not know if Shrewclaw could be trusted not to go to Rookstar, Mintleaf, or perhaps even Elkstar, since this concerned her current deputy. The tom did not seem to be lying, though; Hawkfang lifted his blue gaze slowly from his paws, switching it to Vixenfang. This was her plan. He would not go blurting things out like some sort of disobedient, obnoxious apprentice. Besides that, Hawkfang saw the she-cat as a leader of sorts. He certainly wouldn’t try to take up the position himself when WindClan was reformed. He was young, for one, while she had more experience leading cats and the whole idea was hers. Vixenfang would bring WindClan to life; it was only fit that she led it.

A light shiver rolled down the tom’s spine. He had said that he would join WindClan, but Hawkfang had expected himself to not want to leave RiverClan. He had expected many confusing emotions to race through his mind, but that was not the case. He was sad, yes, that he would leave behind his friends. He would leave behind many cats that he knew to live among strangers; but he was not really sad he was leaving. Hawkfang was like a white rose in the middle of red ones. He could fit in, only because he was of the same species, only because he learned their own ways, but he would never truly belong.

Despite his earlier decision, the tom could not stop himself from suddenly blurting out, “Do you truly mean that, Shrewclaw?” He finished with a look of surprise dancing in his blue eyes, across his face, and his whole body tensed for just a moment. Because there was always the chance that Shrewclaw was just marvelous when it came to deception.

There was a chance for everything.

[{Otter}]

Everything became clearer with each word out of Shrewclaw's mouth. He didn't start getting all defensive about her clear disapproval of RiverClan's decision to fight. He didn't bother to defend his Clan, and he even seemed to agree with her, a fact that was made clear through his next words: "WindClan were the only ones meant for this moor. And they'll always be the only cats who can live, hunt, and fight on such territory."

She glanced at Hawkfang and found him looking at her. The small warrior seemed to deliberate for awhile, and finally he spoke to Shrewclaw. Asking him if he was being honest. It made sense, his words. They still shouldn't reveal everything to Shrewclaw. Why did this have to be so hard? Why did they have to do all this? Why did they have to build WindClan up out of nothing just so they wouldn't be miserable for the rest of their lives?

As stated before, Vixenfang did not have the endurance of a leader to stand here and keep up this facade. She didn't wait for Shrewclaw to reply to Hawkfang, but instead started off on her own short soliloquy. "It belongs to WindClan, but where are they?" she mewed sharply, eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced from Hawkfang to Shrewclaw. "They let the scum of ShadowClan drive them out. They never came back to claim their land. They left the moors forever." Of course she couldn't know the circumstances. She couldn't know why WindClan never returned. Even so, a small spark of anger lit in Vixenfang's heart. If WindClan had come back and were here today, there would already be no question as to who owned the moors, and all she would have to do is join them. She wouldn't be left to rebuild their dang Clan from total scratch. Everything would be so much simpler.

But it wasn't simple, really, and there was no point in moping about what "could have" been. She closed her eyes for a long moment, and when they opened, the amber gaze was clear and calm...or, at least, clearer and calmer. She didn't look at Shrewclaw or Hawkfang, not really wanting to know what they thought of her odd outburst. Instead she gazed past them, across the snowy expanse, and continued, "They never came back to the moors. We don't know if there are any descendants left. If WindClan are the only ones who can rule the moors, then WindClan warriors must come from ShadowClan, ThunderClan, and RiverClan. Look at us. We have the blood of runners in our veins, do we not? Perhaps we are descended from some forbidden loves between our Clan and WindClan's. Whatever the reason, we weren't built like this for nothing. We don't fit our Clans." She shook her head and finally glanced at Shrewclaw. If he didn't put the pieces together now, he was a mousebrain. Perhaps she had made a terrible mistake, but she didn't think so.

[blue]

Did he truly mean that? The questioned seemed rather silly and pointless - of course he meant it. Why else would he have said it? Lying this far into the conversation seemed like a bad idea, it would shatter all the pieces he had put together so far. And that'd be bad, because the tabby had worked too hard in putting this clues together just to lose everything now. No, he wouldn't have bothered lying to these two cats. And everything he said he really meant with all his heart. At least, everything he had said so far. "'Course I meant it, Hawkfang." Or at least, that's what he had try to say, before Vixenfang spoke and cut off his words. But he listened to the she-cat anyway, not bothering to interrupt her. Whatever she had to say she obviously felt needed to be said now, or else she would've waited for an answer. And Shrewclaw agreed, listening to her speak, that what she had to say was important. Very important.

In fact, it was the final clue, that's how important. Just like that, Shrewclaw felt it all snap together in his head - and the reward for solving the puzzle wasn't as great as he expected. No, in fact, with the solution came the mind numbing rush of emotions that almost caused him to lay down. Almost. Only through sheer determination of hearing the deputy out did Shrewclaw keep his green eyes alert and his body upright. Vixenfang... had quite the way with words. Everything she said was like a sermon to Shrewclaw, and he just couldn't stop listening and replaying the words in his head. There was no way he had heard the she-cat wrong, was there? Oh for the love of StarClan, let him have heard right!

"Long gone," he managed out, tongue thick in his mouth. "ShadowClan's ruthlessness drove them out and away, and their pure evil kept WindClan away." It was a horribly true fact. If ShadowClan hadn't fallen so low, WindClan would still be running these borders and the moor. And quite possibly, Shrewclaw never would have gained a thirst for the meadow. Never would there be that tingle of doubt that kept him wondering what if? Because, quite simply, there would be no 'what if'.

"You speak the truth, Vixenfang," he continued after a moment. "WindClan must rule these lands. And regardless of if the blood flows through cats' veins, the memory of the clan resides everywhere." He wasn't particularly built like a WindClan cat, unlike Vixenfang and Hawkfang, but Shrewclaw would be damned before he let that stop him. "If cats belong in WindClan, they belong in WindClan. And they should have the opportunity to prove that to themselves, gain that sense of where they belong, as birth should not dictate it."

He was silent then, mulling over what had happened in these last few moments. Vixenfang - deputy of ThunderClan - was suggesting they... reform WindClan? It was almost too good to be true. But the look on her face - she was serious. And Hawkfang was in on it too, that's what they had been discussing, after all. And Shrewclaw had no doubt, not a single one - he was with them too. RiverClan was shoved to the back of his mind in a single, illogical second. All his life, he'd been living loyal to a clan that just didn't work for him. And now, on some freak accident in the moors... this.

[tenacious]

Hawkfang listened to Vixenfang silently, nodding to himself. He had never wondered about whom he had been descended from; great StarClan, what if he had a WindClan cat as a relative at some point? There were so many possibilities swimming about in the toms mind that he couldn’t make sense of any of them. All he knew was that it was exciting- to think he may have WindClan blood running through his veins. No, to know, because Hawkfang was as sure as this as he was sure StarClan was real. He mulled over Vixenfang’s outburst words; it was true. Although WindClan properly didn’t want to leave, they hadn’t returned, and this was what pained the tom. Was it because they had too much to be afraid of in the forest? Was it because they met some terrible fate traveling to where ever they wished to settle? Or was it because they just gave up?

He could imagine bloody, hungry, tired cats, all small in stature, trekking across barren land, their faces only shadows. He could imagine their leader, amazed at what had become of the swift-footed Clan. He could imagine the warriors, hatred tearing at them, but they were unable to return for reasons Hawkfang could only imagine, and never predict. And, as easy as he could imagine them walking across the land defeated, Hawkfang could imagine them leaving. Their bodies falling still. Had they gone back to StarClan? Were WindClan cats buried deep within the spirits, never showing themselves because they were not wanted?

Hawkfang blinked, for Shrewclaw was speaking. “Well said, Shrewclaw,” Hawkfang murmured. It was true; a cat’s birth should not dictate such a thing. For once, Hawkfang felt like he didn’t have to pretend. To pretend to love the river, or the fish. There was no need, espiecally now, with the Clan that ruled the moor on its way to return.

The brown tabby let out a light purr, but he couldn’t help thinking about StarClan once more. If there were no WindClan spirits, would they be angered? Or would they be pleased that the fourth Clan was finally returning? There were four oaks at Fourtrees, four seasons. One could easily argue, though, that the WindClan tree was gone. WindClan was gone.

But Hawkfang also knew that, someday, the other trees would die as well, and the Clans would continue to live on.

[{Otter}]

There. It was all out in the open, and Vixenfang relaxed. Even if Shrewclaw hadn't had such a good response, she would have relaxed. She didn't like hiding things from others, she didn't like lying, even to cats of enemy Clans.

Shrewclaw did not quite make it obvious. He seemed, to her, to be on board. But he hadn't said it, and she wondered if that was for a reason, or if he simply hadn't thought he needed to say anything. Their situation was far too precarious to just assume things, she realized. She would need him, and Hawkfang too, to swear to it. To swear to her. To swear to WindClan.

"Shrewclaw," she began seriously, her deep amber eyes locked on his. She would say the same thing to him as she had said to Hawkfang before. "You are blunt and honest. I respect that more than you can imagine. I will be blunt and honest with you. This is an atrocious thing. A wicked betrayal of our Clans. We will be seen as enemies, as traitors. Until WindClan's name becomes powerful once more, we will be in grave danger of attack. Your Clanmatse will be furious, betrayed. Are you prepared for that?" She could feel that he was. She saw no remorse on his face, no longing for RiverClan. Not that she was good at reading expressions anyway, though. She couldn't know for sure, not till he said it.

"You will never be a RiverClan cat again. I will never be ThunderClan. If you agree to this, Shrewclaw, you will be WindClan. Only WindClan." They couldn't think she would allow for close relationships to remain between them and RiverClan. Friendships would be unavoidable. She knew, if Brackenheart ever forgave her, she'd remain his friend as best she could. But they would not be Clanmates, and they would fight one day. She had to accept that. Shrewclaw and Hawkfang did, too.