.ೃ࿐ 𝐓he first cough was heard in camp that day. Every cat seemed to pause in a sluggish, momentary silence — yes, it was a cough — and then, the tension thawing, they melted back into their daily activity.

•••

.ೃ࿐ 𝐌aybe Flurrygrace was lying to herself. Letting herself feel around Sunglisten did bring her shame. As if she wasn't exhausted enough already, sleep came difficultly to her after she returned from her errand. Emotions made a cat vulnerable and made them careless, and this gave her personal evidence.

The white warrior was desperate to sleep in, staying in her nest long past sunrise, something she did not do often. Slipping in and out of consciousness, the she-cat was surprisingly not alarmed to find the den slowly emptying and the sky turning a gray-blue shade. No, perhaps she would stay in her nest forever, until dusk fell again, and...

"Flurrygrace! There you are!"

Blearily, she blinked her eyes open, realizing with a start that the warriors den had become completely empty. Jolting upwards, Flurrygrace attempted to focus on the den entrance, honing in on the dark figure blocking the pale light of the opening.

It was Graycedar. Flurrygrace wished it was anyone other than Graycedar.

"Hey," She murmured dumbly, the first thing to come to mind.

"Frostberry told me you'd still be in here. Do you know how late it is?" Her old mentor's words were harsh and biting, a tone used minimally with Flurrygrace. Even as an apprentice, she recalled being majorly obedient.

The white she-cat rose to her paws, quickly brushing off her coat and trying to clear the fog in her head. Embarrassment burned her face.

"I'm sorry," She meowed guiltily. "I've been so tired. It won't happen again."

"It better not," Graycedar huffed. "You're a full-grown warrior now, Flurrygrace. We all have duties to put forth. I wouldn't expect someone like you to be slacking."

The white warrior dipped her head, letting the deputy's criticism flow over her— what more was there to say? She'd been chastised enough, and surely she got the point by now.

Eventually, the gray she-cat beckoned with her tail. "Come. I want you for guard duty." Flurrygrace silently scampered to the she-cat's side, following as she guided her towards the camp entrance. "I'm sure you'll be able to keep yourself wide awake and vigilant, what with how much sleep you got."

Flurrygrace was grateful that Graycedar's chiding subsided as they approached the group of other cats she had gathered for guardianship. She would hate for them all to hear the deputy scolding her.

"And here's Flurrygrace," The gray she-cat meowed. Across from them stood Applesoot, Deerpaw, and Silkenleaf, primed to leave at any moment. She offered an awkward, half-hearted smile, waving her tail over her back.

"Good afternoon," meowed Silkenleaf, and Flurrygrace couldn't tell whether her tone was mocking or if she was projecting her own shame. The elegant calico gave Graycedar a firm nod, her smile reserved. There seemed to be a brief, silent exchange between the two, and then Silkenleaf called forth the rest of the patrol to head out.

The walk to the garden was mostly silent, not even broken by the chirp of a bird— it was deep enough into leaf-bare that they had mostly left. The cold weather made the forest utterly quiet aside from the drops of thawing snow and creaky wood. Their paws left light imprints over the slush.

Eventually, the group emerged from the trees, filling in the places where the previous patrol had sat. Among the four past guards was Cinderflare— she and Flurrygrace exchanged positions wordlessly.

"I'm sorry," Flurrygrace murmured. Her voice was low and reluctant, and she was unsure if Cinderflare could even hear. The dark warrior's gaze lingered on her momentarily before she jogged off to join her departing clanmates.

"We guard until just before sunset," Silkenleaf informed her, cutting off the swirl of thoughts threatening Flurrygrace's mind. Deerpaw puffed out her coat, frowning, but didn't complain.

Tick, tock. Idle conversation. Nothing.

A chilly breeze gently rustled the pines overhead, and Flurrygrace's eyes wandered upwards to observe them. Even though she had slept in more than enough, she felt even more tired than if she had risen usually at dawn.

A hushed voice stopped her sky-gazing short. "UmbraClan."

It was barely a breath, whispered to the group by Silkenleaf, though was heavy with dread and urgency. Flurrygrace felt her body go rigid. The cold air made it difficult to detect scents properly, but after how many times she'd visited with the opposing clan recently, the partially obscured odor on the breeze caught her attention quickly.

UmbraClan was here.

a/n : sorry if this isn't the best, ive been writing it in pieces while stressing over school & just want to get it out finally