Daylight

Chapter 15

The moon was high and bright, and Firepaw's pelt was fluffed out as much as it would go. Despite the cool light from the luminous sphere, it looked as if it could snow in the near future, and a slight breeze amused itself as it whisked through the trees, watching the cats within the forest shiver at each new wind. The trees themselves were dark and empty, their boughs barren from the cold, and all creatures with any bit of logic were alseep in their dens, carefully burrowed away from the cold.

The patrol of ThunderClan cats traversed through the cool forest, making their way to Fourtrees. The large oaks had been there since the very beginning, and, although Firepaw had heard that they were only saplings when the clans had first arrived—whenever that was—he shivered at the thought of something so old.

He looks around at the patrol. Sandpaw and Dustpaw are going back and forth, arguing about who-knew-what, a few tail-lengths away. Lionheart, Redtail, and Bluestar walked up front, discussing, perhaps, the politics of the clans, and exactly what ThunderClan's relationship was to be to ShadowClan in the future. Patchpelt and Halftail were near the back, reminiscing about the olden days, Tigerclaw was avoiding everyone altogether, and Spottedleaf was—

"Hi, Firepaw! Chilly out tonight, isn't it?" the young medicine cat piped, fur fluffed out as well, face glowing despite the cold darkness of the forest. Firepaw was a little surprised she was even talking to him—he was sure she was nice, but she was a medicine cat, and as far as he knew, they didn't mesh with normal cats much.

"Yeah," the flame-colored tom agreed, frantically looking everywhere and struggling not to give into her amber gaze. The dappled she-cat ignored his frantastical glancing, continuing on with the conversation as if everything was no big deal and everything was smooth and fine and everybody was okay, and nobody was trying not to meet anybody else's gaze.

"My friend, Mousefur—you know Mousefur, right? Wait, of course you do, she's the mentor of Cloverpaw—said Runningwind was predicting snow, and I didn't believe it a few days ago, but it looks pret-ty likely now. What do you think?" He finally turned to look to Spottedleaf, wishing he hadn't, as he was absorbed into her gaze. He didn't even have time to notice his own thought of apparently medicine cats do have friends.

Her amber eyes were bright and cheerful, and although as the seconds of silence ticked by, her gaze turned into slightly questioning, he couldn't help but notice the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled, and he noticed just how different the patches of brown were around her eyes. One was a sort of cinnamon color, and the other was what could only be explained as a lovely, earthen, muddy sort of color.

"Firepaw?" He was broken out of his thoughts, and he shook his head quickly, focusing on any cat other than Spottedleaf. Willowpelt. Mousefur. Bluestar. Sandpaw???

"Hm?" he finally managed, forcing an image of Sandpaw's lightly tabbied pelt into his mind.

Spottedleaf chuckled. "I was asking about what you thought of the weather."

Firepaw finally was able to answer. "I mean, Runningwind is usually pretty accurate, so..." he trailed off. Spottedleaf nodded agreeing with him. Well, at least she agrees, he thought to himself before she spoke once more.

"That's true. You know, Runningwind and Mousefur were born in a litter just a little while after me and Redtail and Willowpelt—"

"Wait. You guys are siblings!?" They looked nothing alike. Well, okay, if Firepaw puzzled really hard, maybe he could make out some similarities, but... how even were they related?? They looked nothing alike.