Duskelle awoke with a start. Her eyes jumped open abruptly, her vision cutting jaggedly through her vague dreams.

The red-gold light of sunset filtered in through the gaps in the den walls, creating a dappled pattern of light that flickered over the nests lying here and there on the ground. Some time had passed since she'd last been awake.

Since she'd last been awake.

Suddenly, Duskelle remembered what had happened.

It all seemed to flash through her mind in the form of frozen images. Finding the fox den, rescuing Hawkkit, and then Stormpaw — thinking Stormpaw was dead. Taking both of them towards camp, Graysplash finding them, the sickness, and then waking up and seeing Mosspaw. Mosspaw telling her — Mosspaw. She loved that tom right now more than she'd ever loved River.

And then there was something else, something that pulled at the edge of her memory but skittered away when she reached for it, leaving only flashes of green eyes and a sense of overwhelming importance beyond anything that had ever mattered to her. There had also been a voice...no. More than one voice. More voices than she could ever count.

She took off the odd feeling from the half-memory that hung over her like clinging fog and returned to Mosspaw's words. "That makes you somebody I care about," he'd said. "Someone who deserves to stand next to me as an equal."

An equal, he'd said.

An equal.

Nobody ever seemed to realize how much it mattered. To be viewed on the same level as somebody else.

Duskelle had never had the privilege of being equal. Her parents — the creatures — they'd seemed to hate her. Sometimes, it had seemed to Duskelle that they hated not just her, but her entire existence, the idea of her existence. That a child could exist that was excluded completely from the world of its parents. She wasn't even a child, in their eyes. She was below that. Always below.

River had cared for her. But River had always been older, maybe not in terms of years but in experience, and River had always subtly looked down on Duskelle, indirectly let her know that she wasn't as good as her, and Duskelle had never allowed herself to realize anything bad about River before, but in the wake of her abandonment, she had started coming to her senses about the kind of cat River truly was.

Mosspaw was young. Mosspaw was carefree. Mosspaw was the type of cat that you would think took everything for granted — but he wasn't. He understood. Duskelle knew that without a doubt, Mosspaw was fully aware of the depth of his words.

He really was an odd sort of cat. He seemed to have no reason to be able to have such deep thoughts about what others felt, but he did. Even though he'd probably grown up loved by everyone in the Clan and had never been ignored or looked down upon, he somehow was able to tell and knew when others felt that way.

Perhaps StarClan had given him the ability.

Her musings were interrupted by the arrival of Lilacfeather. The medicine cat stepped into the den, her eyes unfocused seemingly in deep thought. They landed on Duskelle, and it took a moment before her gaze sharpened, and she realized that Duskelle was awake.

"Duskpaw. You're finally awake." She took a step forward and stopped.

"Lilacfeather," Duskelle said in response, the name more a breath than a word.

"You saved them," Lilacfeather responded simply.

Duskelle said nothing in response. She wanted to protest, to tell the medicine cat how stupid she'd been to let Stormpaw go off on his own, how slow she'd been bringing them back, how she'd failed to notice to notice Hawkkit's tiredness, how she wouldn't have even made it if Graysplash hadn't shown up.

But some part of her told her that Lilacfeather was right, so she did not say a word to refute her.

A voice drifted into the den, steadily increasing in volume as the speaker padded closer to the entrance. "And so I was wondering if it would be a good idea if we increased the patrols on the ThunderClan border, they've been slowly pushing forwards the Sunningrocks line for days now and I can't say I'm happy with their scent so far up — Oh, Graysplash. Your apprentice appears to be awake."

A small, dark brown she-cat had stepped into the den, cutting off her own sentence to announce Duskelle's awakening. She had a quick, fluid way of moving, and her warm, yellow eyes burned curiously.

After her came Graysplash, pausing midstep as he noticed her. "Duskpaw," he said slowly, his eyes roaming over her as if he were still checking for injuries, for heated pelts, for ruffled fur. "It's..." he seemed too struggle with his words for a few moments before he managed to formulate a sentence. "It's good to see you... awake. The last time I saw you—" he cut himself off, as if he were remembering something disturbing, and the memory of raw pain in her throat and burning nerves surfaced in Duskelle's brain for a split second, disappearing before she could latch onto it.

"Thank you, Graysplash," Duskelle responded, choosing to ignore his half-finished sentence. "For looking over me and — and for being there that night." His patrol would've been the most desperate, the most determined. They were the only ones who'd been out looking so late, and if they hadn't been, Stormpaw would've surely perished, and possibly Hawkkit too.

"I must say the same to you, Duskpaw. The Clan and I cannot thank you enough for saving Stormpaw's life and finding Hawkkit," Graysplash replied quickly, the words coming without the hesitation of one who lies for courtesy's sake. "However, there are two cats who are indebted to you the most. One of them, Mosspaw, has already given you his gratitude, and with it comes his friendship — though I'm not so sure that you won't wish to be rid of it before long." He smiled wryly before continuing. "The other still waits. Can she leave the den, Lilacfeather?" he asked, shifting his attention abruptly to the medicine cat.

"It seems to be a necessary visit, so my answer is yes, as long as you intend to bring her back," the she-cat responded as she padded to her herb stores.

"Thank you," Graysplash responded, dipping his head before jerking his tail in the direction of the entrance. "Come now, Duskpaw." He turned and ducked out of the den.

Duskelle rose to her paws, rather awkwardly due to her paw injury, and began to follow him. The she-cat who'd walked in with Graysplash padded towards Lilacfeather, a limp Duskelle hadn't noticed before now clear in her step. She winked at Duskelle as she passed, and she managed a half-smile in response.

She ducked out from under the den entrance to emerge into the camp after her mentor, the sharpness of the cooling air biting at her pelt. The camp appeared to be mostly deserted, save for a few warriors here and there along with the elders and queens. Everybody else must've been out on patrols.

She quickly realized that Graysplash was headed towards the nursery, and realized with a start that he must be taking her to see Hawkkit. She'd completely forgotten about the kit. She hoped that the long trek through the woods in the rain hadn't gotten her sick, but if she was in the nursery instead of the medicine cat den, then she had to be alright.

Finally, they reached the den, and they both padded inside. Almost immediately, without even realizing it, Duskelle's rapidly firing thoughts calmed in response to the atmosphere inside, and her muscles, which she hadn't even noticed were tense relaxed. The air grew warmer with every step, as every gap in the brambles that made up the den was thoroughly stuffed with twigs, and her paws landed on soft moss and stray feathers placed to protect the kits from falls. Low murmurs from the queens were punctuated with squeal and squeaks from their kits. They'd just begun to tuck them into their nests for the night.

Graysplash headed for Icebreeze's nest, which Duskelle recognized from when she'd snuck inside. It'd only happened a few weeks ago, but it felt as if moons and moons had passed since. The slim she-cat rose to her paws as she caught their scent. She didn't speak as they approached, but her dark eyes glittered with something Duskelle couldn't identify.

Her mentor stopped, and settled to his haunches, his tail curling over his paws as he waited expectantly, and suddenly she realized that he'd been talking about Icebreeze when he'd said another cat owed her thanks. Hawkkit's mother. Hawkripple's mate.

"Duskpaw," came the queen's voice, and her attention snapped from Graysplash to Icebreeze. She stepped out of her nest, and almost immediately Duskelle could see the resemblance, the unconsciously prideful way of holding herself that she shared with Minnowstar. "Duskpaw, you saved the life of my kit."

"I just — I just happened to be in the right place—"

"No, Duskpaw. You had no reason to be there. You had no reason to search. You had no reason to care. Who are we to you, Duskpaw? You've known us for scarcely a half-moon, there's absolutely no reason for you to have done this. You could've left us to find her, you could've left Hawkkit and Stormpaw to come get help, you could've valued your own safety first, but you didn't. Something in you cares, Duskpaw, and it's not just a will for acceptance."

She didn't know how to respond.

"I believe you are one of us, Duskpaw. I believe a warrior resides in your spirit, in your heart. And I know StarClan does too."

The she-cat's words pounded in her ears, in time with the rush of her blood, and her deep, searching eyes seemed to fill her vision, to be the only things that mattered.

"I see Silverpelt."

Voices tugged at the edges of her hearing, overlapping, clawing for her attention, all repeating the same pattern of words in different tones, different speeds, different volumes. Something was happening to Icebreeze, something was wrong, something was changing.

"I see it in your eyes."

The ends of the queen's silvery fur lightened and darkened in odd patches, brightening to varying shades of cream, and her dark irises seemed to melt and evaporate at the same time, bits of brilliant green shining through and creeping in from the edges. The voices were now hers, and her jaw moved, but she couldn't make out what they were saying, and they way it moved didn't match the noises that she heard, and the voices grew louder and louder until suddenly-

"Duskpaw!"

Graysplash had called her name. Icebreeze was staring at her, her eyes round and pretty, not slitted and harsh like they'd been just moments ago. And they were dark brown. She could see it now. Not black. Dark brown. A completely normal color. Her pelt was silver swirled with gray. Just like it should be.

But something was still wrong.

Icebreeze was in her nest.

When'd she gotten back in? Why would she step back inside?

Had she even left it in the first place? Had Duskelle just — had she imagined it? It was so real — but the voices, the eyes, the fur, that couldn't be real, the illness still had a hold on her, it was still grasping her brain, still affecting her—

"Are you alright?" Graysplash asked, worry stirring in his amber eyes. He'd risen to his paws, but she'd seen him do it, she remembered him doing it, but she couldn't remember her doing it, her lying back down — no, it was just the illness, nothing more, nothing else.

"I — I'm fine. I'm alright, I'm fine," she said hurriedly, stumbling over her words, her eyes darting around as if she expected a second Icebreeze to show up, one with a cruel, mottled green gaze and a cream-tipped pelt.

The normal-eyed Icebreeze opened her mouth, a troubled expression crossing her face, but she was interrupted by the appearance of two small, tumbling bundles.

"Foxbreath, badger-stinky, snake-heart, dungeater—"

"Ashkit!" Icebreeze separated the two kits. "Has Mosspaw been teaching you curses again? Don't use those words!"

The small light gray tabby tom hurled another insult, paying no heed to his mother. "Mousefodder!" She cuffed him lightly on the ear in response.

"Duskpaw!"

The sound of her name turned her attention to the other kit. "Hawkkit?"

It was indeed the little brown tabby she-cat, and she stared up at her with wide blue eyes. "Duskpaw! You're alive!"

"Of course she's alive, Hawkkit," Icebreeze said with a tone of amusement stirring in her voice. "Why wouldn't she be?"

"Well, Lilacfeather let me visit her in the medicine cat den, and she looked sort of dead, so I thought—"

"I wasn't dead," Duskelle replied with a chuckle. The robustness of the kits and the laughter they brought along dispelled the dark wisps of the omen that still hung at the edges of her vision and the faint voices that still seemed to lap at her mind. "I was just... sick. Very sick. I'm fine now."

"Good. I like you," the kit responded simply, stating her words in the tone of somebody speaking about something very obvious, such as the weather or the amount of prey, and Duskelle smiled widely in response.

She'd never thought about it before, but maybe she did love kits.

"Duskpaw," Icebreeze said, and Duskelle raised her gaze to hers. "This is Ashkit. You've already met Hawkkit — he's her brother, along with—" she suddenly seemed to realize something, and her pitch changed unexpectedly as she said, "Stonekit! Where are you?"

"I'm over here, Mother," came a serious voice that belied its youth from somewhere behind Icebreeze — the dimness of the den didn't allow Duskelle to see much, though the eyes of the felines had no trouble directing their vision through it.

"Come over here, I've got somebody I'd like you to meet."

There was a pause, and eventually, a large, dark gray tabby tom picked his way through the den to his littermates' sides. His pale green eyes seemed to glow in the darkness as they surveyed Duskpaw gravely.

Eventually, he finished with his apparent judgement and spoke. "Hello. I'm Stonekit."

Duskelle's reply was interrupted by a yowl from Ashkit. "More like Stonehead!"

The other tom looked at him with a disdainful expression that was almost comical on his small face and responded with, "Feces."

Hawkkit's face screwed up in confusion. "What's that mean?"

"It's a really bad insult. Jay taught me."

"Of course it's Jay," Icebreeze said, shaking her head. "Lutes taught him more Twoleg words than any cat could count. I doubt he even remembers the meanings anymore."

"Ah, Lutes," Graysplash responded, his expression growing troubled. "How I wish he was still with us."

"He was a cat like no other," Icebreeze said, sadness surfacing from the depths of her eyes. "Where do you think he is now?"

"Who knows where his kind go once they've left us? He's certainly not with StarClan — though he never begrudged us our beliefs, he never pretended he shared them."

"Well, whatever place he's in, he's made it brighter," Icebreeze said, and both of the cats lapsed into the sort of silence where memories are shared without words.

Duskelle watched uneasily. She was intruding on their memories.

"Well, Duskpaw," Graysplash said, shifting to his feet abruptly. "If Icebreeze is finished with you — she wanted you to meet Hawkkit's littermates, and you have — I think we should be off."

"Oh — yes," Icebreeze said, looking startled. "Right." She turned her warm brown gaze onto Duskelle. "These words will never be enough to repay you for saving my kit, but thank you." Something changed in her expression, though she tried hard to hide it. "Hawkripple — Hawkkit's father, my mate — he's not with us now, but he would've said the same. He would've been so grateful."

"He was," Duskelle replied, the words almost lodging in her throat at Icebreeze's sadness, so deep, so evident. "He talked to me. He came to me in my dreams."

Graysplash looked immensely surprised for a moment before he composed himself. "Of course he would. He was never one to forgo something when it was due."

"Never," Icebreeze said, the word escaping as a choked whisper from her throat, and she turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut as if she couldn't bear to see.

Graysplash signaled to her with his tail. That was their cue to leave.

Duskelle could feel Hawkkit's round, glowing eyes on her as she left the den. She couldn't even imagine the grief that Icebreeze had to be going through — her mate, the most important cat in her life — dead, leaving her with three young kits to care for.

She shuddered to rid herself of the heavy thoughts as they entered the medicine cat den again. The umber she-cat was gone, and she could hear Lilacfeather moving near her herb stores, though the medicine cat didn't come forward to acknowledge them.

Graysplash stopped at the entrance to let her pass, and he stared at her for a few moments before he spoke. "It's almost sundown. You should sleep. You're still weak."

"I will," Duskelle responded, holding his gaze.

He stared at her some more, something glittering deep within his amber eyes.

Lilacfeather shuffled with her herbs a little more in the corner.

The cry of some night bird echoed through the air.

Suddenly, the spell broke, and her mentor dipped his head. "Thank you," he said, and then he turned and disappeared through the entrance.