Eventually, they arrived at the camp entrance, stepping into the reeds.

"That was fun," Brookpaw said, looking from Seapaw to Duskelle. "We should do that again!"

"Yes," Duskelle said. "Yes, I think we should." Seapaw nodded in agreement.

Brookpaw beamed at them. "I'm glad to hear that!" Her tongue slipped out and rasped around her fangs. "You two have such lovely spirits."

Duskelle frowned. "Spirits?"

"Yes..." Brookpaw's body seemed to flinch abruptly, and Duskelle caught a glimpse of her eyes as her head turned. They were a light, pale green, just as she remembered them...but they'd be darker this morning, more intense. Had she imagined that? Maybe it was a trick of the light.

Brookpaw stared at both of them with a hint of confusion, as if she wasn't sure why she was in their company, and then promptly walked away in the other direction.

Seapaw turned confusedly to Duskelle. "I suppose that's her way of saying goodbye? You know, I once met an apprentice like that in the Games-"

"The Games?" Duskelle asked, frowning.

"Yeah," Seapaw said. "Hasn't anyone told you about them yet?"

She shook her head.

"Every year, the Games are held between the four Clans, to ease tension and so everyone can have fun. Younger warriors and sometimes older apprentices participate," Seapaw told her.

"Huh. When are they?" Duskelle asked distractedly as she stared after Brookpaw's receding form.

"At the end of summer — we've still got a few moons to go, I think I might be old enough to participate then. I'd like to participate in the races, they always sound fun and I'd like to say that I'm pretty fast. Aren't I fast, Duskpaw?"

Seapaw continued jabbering and although, Duskelle didn't interrupt her, she didn't listen either. Brookpaw had acted alright today...she'd actually been nice to Duskelle, acted like good company.

But what had caused the change? Why was she suddenly so friendly when she seemed to detest Duskelle only a few days before?"

"Duskpaw," came Seapaw's voice. The she-cat jerked her head towards the fire-pit. "You should come and eat with everyone else."

"Oh — yeah, okay," Duskelle responded. "I will. Thank you." She allowed the uneasiness on her face to melt into a kinder expression.

She trailed behind the young apprentice as they padded towards the fire-pit and sat next to her as the she-cat dropped onto her haunches and curled her tail over her paws. Other RiverClanners were all gathering around in a loose circle, situated in small groups.

Duskelle could not shift her attention away towards Brookpaw. The she-cat had settled some ways from them with another cat — Duskelle thought she recognized her as the cat who'd been with Graysplash and Mosspaw the night of the fox den — and her expression was confused. Brookpaw opened her mouth to speak, and Duskelle strained to hear what she was saying.

"Dapplerush," she began, and Duskelle stored away the memory of the name to recall later. "Do you-did you see what I was doing earlier? In the afternoon? I could've sworn-I can't remember anything, I've just completely blanked out."

Duskelle frowned. She couldn't remember? But they'd gone out to the lake together, they'd hunted and ran and laughed together. Brookpaw's gaze snagged on Duskelle's, but as it always had before today, passed over her as if she weren't there.

Duskelle rose to her feet. She needed to find out what was going on. "Seapaw, I'm going to go talk to Brookpaw," she told her, glancing down at the tricolor feline. She merely nodded, laying her head down on her paws to gaze into the distance.

"Brookpaw!" she called as she neared the two she-cats. The apprentice's head snapped up to stare at her. "Brook, I wanted to-er-talk about our plans? Do you want to hunt again tomorrow?"

"Again?" Brookpaw's delicate nose wrinkled in derision and confusion. "What do you mean again? Did you have a dream? And can you even hunt? You're a Twoleg."

Duskelle stared, flabbergasted. What was Brook saying? She'd acted so nice in the morning, she'd been so kind, so eager to talk, but now... Duskelle wasn't even hurt. She was used to this behavior from Brookpaw. But the way she was acting was so alien compared to before.

Dapplerush attempted to speak, her voice uneasy. "That's not very kind, Brookpaw-"

Brook made a rude noise, interrupting the young warrior. "Not very kind? Are you saying I owe courtesy to a Twoleg? That's absurd, Dapplerush."

Duskelle didn't know what to say — she was completely and utterly confused like she'd never been before. She merely stumbled backwards, glancing back at Brookpaw, who stared at her in disgust, ignoring the low mumble of Dapplerush's words in her ear.

When she'd found Seapaw again, Mosspaw was sitting besides her, and his green eyes lit up as they found her.

"Duskpaw!" he exclaimed. "Come on, sit down! It's good to see you out of the medicine cat den, Seapaw here's been telling me about how Sunspring took you out for battle training this morning."

"Yes, that's true..." Duskelle said distractedly, gazing back at Brookpaw, at her eyes, at their lightness...a lightness that contrasted so sharply with the intensity that she was sure she'd seen earlier in the day...

——— 

A crowd gathered around a gap in the clouds. It was a crowd like no other. Its members did not jostle, for they had no real bodies to move with. They did not cry out or yell, for they had no real voices to speak with.

It was a crowd of minds, watching, watching, from high above the earth.

Suddenly, a she-cat materialized out of thin air, balancing precariously on a soft cloud. She was careful not to let her paws dip into the pit that swooped down to the sharp tips of trees far underneath. Her pelt was faded cream swashed with gray and her eyes were a bright, intense green that seemed to bore into whatever they were looking at. Right now, their subject was the small ring of felines gathered around the deep hole.

There was a ripple in the mass of invisible consciousnesses and another form became solid.

It was a small tom with a yellow pelt and pale blue eyes. He wasted no time before speaking. "What has come of your recent proceedings, Larksong? Our fellow Ancient Ones wish to know of your progress."

"I am doing well," the she-cat responded, raising her eyes. "I have deduced that for the human to have any chance, for her spirit to gain any sort of power over her body, she must feel as if she is one with the Clan cats. I have taken certain...expeditions into the waking world to help her come along to this conclusion."

"What exactly do you mean by this?" he asked, a sharp glint in his eye.

"I have a special connection with my kin. If my blood still runs in their veins, I can take their bodies as my vessel — but mind you, it is difficult and limited. The first's spirit nearly pushed out my true form. There are still a few things to refine, certain outcomes that I am unable to change...but it is working."

The tom nodded slowly, and all around them a sense of approval radiated from the gathered minds. "We have lent you our power, Larksong. Although we trust you fully, you must remember to inform us regularly — we have hardly seen you lately."

"Merely collecting knowledge from the other spirits of StarClan, Sparrowstep," the beautiful female replied, turning her gaze back to the view below her. "I must be completely sure. No harm can come to our people. I am doing this for you all, after all."

Sparrowstep dipped his head. "Of course. That is your higher calling as the leader of the Ancient Ones. It was great of you to find this spirit. It will sustain ours for many more centuries."

Larksong's voice went low and quiet. "I would be fully willing to speak to you with greater length, Sparrowstep, but the youthful StarClanners have made me reluctant. They seem averse to our goals."

The tom shrugged. "They are beginning to see the Twoleg as one of their own and do not wish her harm. But sacrifices must be made for the greater good."

"Your words ring true as always, friend. Good hunting," Larksong intoned. She lowered her head to Sparrowstep once more before vanishing in a cool breeze.

The yellow tom gazed down through the clouds at the still form of a Twoleg, curled amidst the dark forms of sleeping RiverClanners. "Good hunting..." he murmured, almost to himself.

Suddenly, the Twoleg's head jerked upwards and he and his companions were gone, just as if they'd never existed.

———

Duskelle peered up at the night sky. Bright stars twinkled in the darkness, no moon to steal from their attention. She had felt some odd instinct, some feeling that told her she was being watched. But who could watch her from the sky?

Perhaps it was StarClan, watching over one of their own...

She let out a content sigh and laid her head back, allowing a peaceful smile to drift onto her face as sleep overtook her once more.

——— 

two chapters today :) stuff is getting pretty intense!