.ೃ࿐ 𝐓he sky was a stretch of inky darkness, flat clouds obscuring any pinpricks of the stars. The snowy landscape, now tousled by boundless crossing paws, was tinted blue in the night. The air bit at Flurrygrace's freshly groomed pelt.

Frostberry's announcement was met with a strange bundle of emotions Flurrygrace had no identity for. She was happy for her, obviously, and excited to be an aunt, however, after growing up with her sister for so long, it felt as if her queenhood was widening the fork in their paths. She'd already struggled with their differing treatment from her father, and now it seemed Frostberry was proceeding with a level of composure and maturity even more characteristic of an ideal daughter and warrior. Flurrygrace felt unlike her.

She wished she could confess her worries to Cinderflare. She wasn't a perfect listener, but she was at least usually there.

In an attempt to reconcile, Flurrygrace had invited the dark she-cat to be a part of her gathering group. Maybe it would show her that she was seen as an asset.

Graycedar had outlined her initiative. Clear the name of VerdantClan, reenforce their ownership of Moonwater's Garden, and attempt to leave matters clearly and peacefully. Share any information about VerdantClan sparingly.

"Are we ready?" She meowed, turning to face her group which had gathered at the camp entrance. No one looked particularly happy about the task ahead. Drizzlepaw was fidgeting with her tail, and Patchwhisker rocked back and forth apprehensively on his paws. Even Specklepine, who was usually cheery, wore a blank expression and had his fur impressively puffed out. Cinderflare, unsurprisingly, was glowering.

"Alright," Flurrygrace breathed. She turned and exited camp, hoping to make a quick arrival. She worried if it would be embarrassing to arrive with such a small group if UmbraClan came with half the Clan.

Before long, Cinderflare was at her side. Although this would usually bring comfort, the tension hung between them like a live wire.

"Did you not believe me?" Cinderflare hissed. Her voice was quiet, and she hurried briskly along, as if urging Flurrygrace to break further from the rest of the group if she were to keep up.

"About what?" She meowed dumbly, although the matter was obvious.

"You know. The murder."

"I did," Flurrygrace replied, sharp and defensive. "I don't think you did it. Why would I still?"

"Because you brought me along on this little trip," The she-cat mewed. "Because we're going to be seeing UmbraClan and obviously we'll talk about what happened. And oh, might be nice to keep an eye on me tonight. See how I act around an UmbraClan cat, you know, see if there's any murder in my eyes."

Flurrygrace almost flinched. The ease by which Cinderflare harbored anger was always a little concerning to her. How could she not doubt the she-cat innocence? She was clearly not unfamiliar with scheming if she would propose such an unbacked ulterior motive. Flurrygrace shook her head quickly.

"That's not why I brought you," She replied through gritted teeth. "It's because I've always trusted you to back me up. I'm serious when I say I believe you." At least mostly serious. She tried to assure her with conviction nonetheless.

Cinderflare didn't have any snarky retort to that, and if it wasn't so dark, Flurrygrace might believe her features softened. The battered she-cat only huffed.

•••

.ೃ࿐ 𝐒oon, the gentle tumble of the waterfall could be heard, a frothy white fracture down the face of the cliffside. Perched on the rocks were the silhouettes of other felines, informing the small VerdantClan group that UmbraClan had arrived. The crowd seemed smaller than usual, and it was obvious that the rival Clan's attendance had been cut down. Flurrygrace didn't want to consider if that was the doing of VerdantClan.

As Flurrygrace clambered over the rocks, joining the others on the outcropping, she felt all eyes turn to her. The edges of her pelt shimmered silver in the moonlight, a soft, ghostly figure against the snowscape. Her Clanmates formed around her, caution in their postures.

Several quiet murmurs broke out among the UmbraClan cats, though one voice dominated the conglomeration.

"Is this all VerdantClan offers us tonight?" The feline inquired snidely.

Sprucestar stepped forth, his warriors dispersing as smoothly as shadows to make a path for his approach. Flurrygrace felt her throat close up. Compared to her father, the blue-gray tom was not physically formidable. He was a sleek, wiry cat, with a solid pelt and angular features. Despite this, the condescending glare he beheld Flurrygrace with and the way he stood tall made her believe he was not a cat to mess with.

"Yes. We were unsure if UmbraClan would be here with their usual turnout," She told him, a mild lie. 

Sprucestar's gaze narrowed, seemingly scrutinizing each member of her brigade. His passive aggression seemed unnerving, and Flurrygrace slid Cinderflare an uncertain glance, wondering how she would respond to his demeanor. When her gaze snapped back, she realized the leader was staring directly at her. "No high ranks," He commented plainly. "What are you here for?"

"Cordial relations," Flurrygrace replied, purposefully projecting her voice louder than the tom's in an attempt to sound confident. "I'd like to just talk and mingle. I know there's a few things to be sorted."

"A few things," came a dissatisfied mutter in the crowd, which was followed by several inaudible meows. Sprucestar spared them a brief glance over his shoulder, and Flurrygrace's pelt prickled.

Turning back to them, Sprucestar's expression was not any less severe. "Fine. Then mingle. I'll speak to my deputy, and then to you." The leader disappeared into the group of cats, which formed back into a mass.

Flurrygrace exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding, glancing back at the cats with her. "You can go, just be polite," She instructed quietly. Specklepine seemed eager to get away, beckoning Drizzlepaw with him friendlily. Patchwhisker was the next to leave. She was left with Cinderflare, who broke off tentatively and brushed past Flurrygrace. "Remember— polite," She called after the dark warrior, for seemingly no reason. She knew it would probably aggravate her, but it came out nonetheless.

Flurrygrace began to pick her way through the gathered cats as well, trying to ignore how fatigued and beaten many of them appeared. She wasn't able to go far before a familiar figure crossed her path, stopping her in her tracks.

"Sunglisten," She meowed breathlessly. Garnering a few curious looks, the tabby whisked her aside from the crowd.

"I have a feeling you did something," The medicine cat whispered, coming to a stop among the rocks. Surprisingly, instead of shame, Flurrygrace felt a rush of relief. She'd been hiding her herb snatching for several days, and for some reason it felt nice to have someone know about it — if that was what he was talking about.

"Herbs?" She meowed vaguely, and Sunglisten shot her a sideways look that seemed to suggest she got the picture. "You... found them?" She continued, still wary.

"Yes. I knew it must have been you," He meowed triumphantly. "And UmbraClan is already starting to get sick. I'm going to need more." Desperation tinged his voice, justifying what Flurrygrace would otherwise consider naivety. Telling the enemy your weaknesses? It was a dangerous sympathy card to try to play. She shifted awkwardly on her paws.

"I can't. We always have guards," She replied, her voice even quieter than his.

"That makes it sound like you would otherwise," He told her, egging on her thoughts of misdemeanor.

"I couldn't. Not from the garden," Flurrygrace asserted. Tentatively, she asked, "How many are sick?"

Sunglisten seemed to think for a moment, looking up at the navy sky. "Three for sure, one with symptoms. There's one of our queens who I'm most concerned about."

A queen. Admittedly, Flurrygrace didn't know if he was telling the truth, but the comment got a quick reaction from her, her mind leaping to thoughts of her sister. If Frostberry fell ill she would be devastated, especially with kittens on the way. Did this UmbraClan queen have a sister? Perhaps a protective father?

"Tell me what you need. I probably can't harvest from the garden, but I can look elsewhere." Immediately Flurrygrace felt like she'd regret what she said. It was an unnecessary pressure she was putting on herself, blatantly defying her Clan, but her pity managed to get the best of her— and Sunglisten was a good cat. She would feel bad denying him her help.

"The symptoms are similar to a cold. I'm not sure what the diagnosis exactly is yet, so I'm tackling those first," Sunglisten explained. "I don't know what grows outside the garden, either. I think feverfew tends to do well by the river, but there's none on our side," He shook his head, eyes clouding. "My mentor was lost to the Sickness and I didn't finish all of my training. I don't mean to sound stupid."

Flurrygrace's heart sank. She remembered the announcement of the medicine cat's passing many moons ago. "Feverfew, then," She told him quickly. "Tomorrow night. If you meet me by the stepping stones, I'll bring it."

Sunglisten hung his head, and the light accentuated the shadows beneath his eyes, the thick-furred tom suddenly appearing small and youthful. "Thanks," He whispered.

As soon as she could, Flurrygrace tore herself away from the tabby and returned to mill around the crowd, not wanting the conversation to appear suspicious to outside eyes. She seemed to have chosen an apt time, because before long, Sprucestar approached her, flanked by a white and brown feline.

"Come. Let's talk," He told her calmly. Smiling politely, Flurrygrace nodded, and allowed him to guide her to the rock face, away from the other cats. Several stared at them as they passed, and Flurrygrace tried to ignore the obvious disdain they emanated.

The slender tom came to a stop near a secluded shadow of the rockface, curling his tail over his back. The other cat, who she knew was his deputy, followed suit. The blue leader eyed Flurrygrace skeptically. "Tell me, girl. What did your father ask you to say to me?"

"Nothing I wouldn't say myself," Flurrygrace asserted, wanting to dismiss any notion of her being Juniperstar's pawn. "We want to be sure that UmbraClan acknowledges our claim to Moonwater's Garden. It's rightfully VerdantClan's territory now, and be aware that any of your cats attempting to enter will surely be caught by our rotational guards." She was grateful that she recalled most of what she had rehearsed in her head on the way there, still a bit shaken by Sunglisten's plea.

Sprucestar watched her quietly. With no response, she felt urged to continue.

"And no one has come forth with any information on the warrior you found at the river."

Flurrygrace felt herself wanting to shrink beneath Sprucestar's sharp, analytical expression, struggling to look him in the eye. Sheepishly, she instead stared at his forehead. "VerdantClan took the report seriously and we have genuinely found no evidence that it was one of our cats," She meowed. "If we learn anything new it will be shared with you."

As she finished, several more painfully silent seconds ticked by. Was she supposed to say something else? Had Graycedar given her any more to cover? Was that not good enough for them? She hadn't expected to be allowed to speak with no interruption. Eventually, realizing she had come to a close, Sprucestar spoke up.

"Very well. But the battle for the garden is not over," He told her grimly. "It has belonged to UmbraClan for generations. Do not think it will be so easy to steal, or that we will ever trust what VerdantClan has to say."

With that, he beckoned to his deputy and shouldered Flurrygrace aside.