Greeneyes didn't expect to find a full-blow screaming match going on when she walked into camp, but it didn't surprise her either. She couldn't leave ForestClan alone for one moment without everything falling apart.

Having left Rainstem in RushClan territory to fulfil her punishment, a weight lifted off her chest knowing that she'd dealt with that issue, and now everything would be peaceful again. Although peaceful, these days, seemed more like walking on twigs and trying not to startle a mouse.

Greeneyes strolled back to camp, allowing herself a leisurely walk for once when disembodied voices split the damp, dreary air.

"Why should Rainstem have been punished for protecting The Guardian? It's not fair!"

Her pace hastened, paws slamming into the leaf mulch below her as she sprinted back to camp. Panting, she gulped in as much air as she dared without tempting a stitch. Why did drama have to erupt when she was so far from camp?

Greeneyes leapt over tree roots, almost sending herself sprawling in her haste. She slowed outside the large ferns concealing the camp, needing to regain her composure. Some cats inspired respect as soon as they so much as walked by, and if she wanted to be any kind of decent leader, that was a skill she intended to practice. The fragile fronds brushed her fur as she passed through, wincing as she noticed a clear division between former RimuClan cats and BeechClan cats. Soon, her camp and Spiderstar and Keastar's camp would have to combine to create one big ForestClan; how could they ever achieve that goal if the two groups were still fighting? She stared around for that useless lump of fur that was supposed to be her partner. Mataiclaw loomed over another cat, teeth bared. She rolled her eyes. Brawn wouldn't do anything in this situation. Good thing she had enough brains for the two of them.

"What are you all yowling about? We're all clanmates now, we shouldn't be arguing so loudly it can be heard by the RushClan border."

The overlapping voices quieted as Greeneyes announced her presence. Mataiclaw turned around, shoulders relaxing. "There's been an argument about The Guardian," he told her.

Greeneye's heart sunk. A religious conflict? This wasn't something she could fix. If only Spiderstar was here, he'd know what to do.

"He's not real," Duckpaw whirled around and said, amber eyes boring into Greeneyes.

She had no reply, staring back at the apprentice. The audacity; the insolence! BeechClan apprentices would never talk to their leader like that.

"Yes he is, you're just closed-minded," Sweetpaw snapped back.

Greeneyes suppressed a groan. Apprentices are a pain no matter what Clan they're in.

"It's just...all three Clans have believed in the Four Gods since the beginning of time. They created us. And then all of a sudden, BeechClan decided there was a different God and changed their whole beliefs after meeting some rogues. So forgive us if we don't believe in Him," Dewfur said, looking at his paws.

Greeneyes nodded. "No cat is asking you to change your beliefs. ForestClan can have two different beliefs. We all know we go to StarClan after we die, and whether one god or many are looking over us, it doesn't matter. We're loved and protected, and cats can follow what they like. ForestClan offers freedom to choose." Greeneyes chose her words carefully, not allowing a single waver in her tone.   

Amberfang stood up, curling her lip. "That's easy to say, but what happens when some cats decide one belief is better than the other, or more important?"

"Yeah," shot back Wekafur. "We already know you guys think your gods are better. We're being respectful and don't say dung about your Gods, but you guys love to disrepesct us, completely unprovoked." He sneered at Duckpaw, curling his lip. "Nobody asked or even cares that you don't believe in the Guardian."

Greeneyes stared at him, dumbfounded. How did Wekafur manage to find his way into the middle of so many fights? He had kits now! Surely he had better things to do than to argue with an apprentice.

"So Spiderstar and Keastar get to decide to combine our two Clans, change our entire way of living, based on the word of The Guardian, and we don't get to say we don't believe in him? So much for freedom," Amberfang spat back.

Growls rumbled around the camp, hisses and muttered words.

Greeneyes's fur prickled down her neck, like ants were crawling through her skin. She wracked her brain for a diplomatic reply.
"It's true that us joining was The Guardian's wish, but that isn't the only reason we came together as one Clan. ForestClan gives us more territory, more prey, more safety and strength. As a unified Clan, we can all have different beliefs. Believe in the Four Gods, The Guardian, or both. But be respectful to your Clanmates." Smooth words spilled out of her, sweet with the taste of Spiderstar's voice.

"I just think it's interesting that so much of this whole thing is because The Guardian wanted it. We had to act because of His word. Spiderstar said so himself," Dewfur piped up again.

Greeneyes scrutinised him. She'd never put much thought into the tom. She'd taken him to be peaceful, despite his role as a legion warrior. His rich, copper eyes roamed her face, analysing her in the same way she was analysing him.

"Yes, but this wasn't a BeechClan only decision. Miorflame had that vision, and Keastar said she believed Patewing's sign was sent by your own Gods. We're not acting on the Guardian's will alone." Greeneyes quirked her lip. No one could argue with that logic.

Dewfur wasn't deterred and kept talking. "Miorflame's vision had nothing to do with either Gods. His vision was about our Clans supposedly dying if we didn't form ForestClan. It said nothing about our Gods views on this, and let's face it, Miorflame is sick. He's been sick for a while. He's not the most reliable source."

Whispers ignited at this. Miorflame must've been more controversial than she'd realised. Greeneyes herself was sceptical, but who was she to question Keastar's interpretation of his vision?

Dewfur took her silence as an invitation to keep going. "I don't mean to doubt Keastar's spiritual connection, but she received no sign herself, she just  chose to believe your sign came from our Gods. A BeechClan medicine cat gets a sign you all believe is from The Guardian, and Miorflame has a seizure dream. There's nothing directly said from any of our Gods. This was all based on The Guardian's will, at least from BeechClan's perspective, because none of you even believe in The Gods anymore."

Greeneyes could've cursed him. He raised a good point. There was no strong evidence of The Old Gods approval. Dewfur was making it sound like Spiderstar had jumped at any reasons to convince the RimuClan cats to join ForestClan. What would a good leader do? What would Spiderstar do?
"Twist and reframe the situation," he whispered in her head.

"The one thing our Gods have in common is they don't like to send us clear messages. We have to have faith in them and their methods. They've sent us signs for ForestClan, and since joining, we've gotten no disapproving signs. Trust in our Gods visions, even if we can't understand them. That's what faith is, and none of us are medicine cats or chiefs. It isn't up to us to doubt our Gods." She swallowed, looking back at the array of eyes fixed on her.

Tail tips twitched, bristled fur lay flat, but jaws remained clenched. "The joined cultures in ForestClan is one of the best things about it!" She scrambled for a solution. "How about we have an arts day? Our entertainers can put on a reenactment for us all to watch. We can practice weaving and carving to celebrate RimuClan, and make an effort to understand each other."

Murmurs of agreement rippled across the crowd. Greeneyes flicked her gaze over to Mataiclaw. She knew they should put on a united front, but she wanted to nip this issue in the bud.

"How about in a quarter moon? That should give us time to prepare everything." She dipped her head to Sleetheart, who had been made lead Entertainer. Sleetheart's lips stretched into a grin, signalling that the entertainers could handle the job.

Greeneyes met Wekafur's eyes. His carnivorous glare bore into hers. She couldn't help herself, she let her hatred spill into her eyes, and she cradled it like a flame about to rage into a wildfire. Let him see I know what he does when he sneaks around at night. Let him see I know how to play this game. Wekafur's glower didn't falter, and neither did Greeneyes's fixed smile. Tearing her gaze away from her enemy, she focused on her clanmate's reactions. Tempers were dying, but the tension hadn't dissipated. The usual troublemakers wouldn't be satisfied - Greeneyes didn't bother to try to please the likes of Wekafur, Duckpaw, or Sweetpaw, who would oppose her or any authority on principal. But the general Clan should be happy, and they didn't look it.

"It'll be a fun day for us to learn more about each other, and celebrate our similarities and differences. I know it can be difficult for us RimuClan and BeechClan cats to get along and find common ground. Our cultures are so different. But instead of arguing like we did today, how about we be more tolerant of each other, stop seeing our differences as a threat, as a gap between us that we can't bridge, and start seeing our blend of culture as a beautiful and unique thing," she said, watching for any change in the crowd's expressions. "No hunting, no border patrols, no duties! We'll all have a day off to get to know each other, relax, and have fun. If we can catch enough prey the day before, we can have a proper feast."

As her clanmates cheered and started to warm towards the idea, Greeneyes relaxed. Problem solved, and a good way to make ForestClan bond and form a Clan identity. She was damn good at her job. After she nodded to dismiss them, ForestClan returned to their business. Through the bustle of faces, Greeneyes felt a stare fixed on her. Turning to finish her stare-off with Wekafur, Greeneyes blinked under the gaze of Dewfur. He made no attempt to hide that he was watching her. Observing her. His eyes moved with her, studying her the same way she would analyse her clanmates. Greeneyes's brow knitted as she picked up sadness in those copper depths. It confused her, and Greeneyes didn't like being confused. She looked back, noticing Mataiclaw motioning her to the leaders den. She stalked over, ducking under the overhanging ferns, following him. After they entered their shared den, Mataiclaw turned, puffing out his chest. Greeneyes rolled her eyes. Here he goes, trying to intimidate me so he can reassure himself he's a big, tough tom.

"Why did you do that?" He boomed.

"Do what?" Greeneyes replied.

"Plan a celebration without me! We're supposed to be a team. You're not the only leader here. You should've asked me!"

Greeneyes snorted. Just when she was starting to tolerate Mataiclaw, his insufferable ego rose up again. How dare he snap at her for actually doing their job? "You say I'm not the only leader, but I'm one doing all the work. This argument started up under your watch while I was dealing with Rainstem, but I'm the one who had to run back to camp and solve it, while you sat there looking panicked. Want me to treat you as a leader? Act like one." 

Mataiclaw growled, stepping towards her so that he was towering over her. "I didn't sit there looking panicked! I tried to fix it. You can't judge me for what I did when you weren't there to see it."

Greeneyes raised herself up to her full height, trying to remind the posturing tom that he couldn't flex his bulk at her and expect to roll on her belly for him. "It's more about what you didn't do." 

"You don't know, you weren't there." 

"I shouldn't have to be there full time. The point of being deputy is that you can take over when the Chief dies and manage that kind of responsibility on your own."

"I didn't want to be chief. I didn't spend my whole life training like you," he said, in a sulky tone.

Greeneyes scoffed. "Don't try to make me feel sorry for you. You accepted the role of deputy, and you worked your whole life to become head of the legion. This wasn't some tragic fate bestowed upon you."

"Okay, you're right, I wanted this. But it's not what I thought! Honestly, I felt so powerless trying to get everyone to stop arguing today. Nothing I said helped. It was so much easier as head of the Legion. Everyone respected me, and no one argued over anything complicated like this. I can't smooth over everything like you do." Mataiclaw relaxed his shoulders, shuffling his paws.

At last, a bit of humility! It was true, this role would be overwhelming if someone was new to it. "Being a deputy isn't always this hard. Cats aren't usually this tense. It's a very difficult time. I'm not angry that you don't always know what you're doing, I'm angry that you're so arrogant."

"I can't let ForestClan see that I'm struggling. I've always been the strong and confident leader. I can't fall apart now."

Greeneyes's brows shot up. "I suppose...I've felt that way myself, sometimes. It gets easier and more natural. But you've always had an ego, back as a legion warrior. It's not just a projection. If you want to be a good deputy, you need to let that go."

Mataiclaw looked sulky again. "I don't have an-"

Not giving him a moment to argue, Greeneyes interrupted. "-I can teach you. If you're willing to learn."

Mataiclaw nodded. "I want to learn." He gave her an embarrassed smile. "And you're the best teacher I can."

Greeneyes figured that was his way of apologising and showing some humility. So she took a deep breath, and gave him a smile back. All was forgiven.

-

Birdsong serenaded Greeneyes awake. She rolled over in her nest, prodding the great brown lump beside her. Mataiclaw awoke with a snort. 

"Come on, we've got to wake up Sleetheart and the apprentices to set everything up," she said.

Mataiclaw's maw stretched into a yawn, yellowed fangs glinting in the pale light. "I'll get the apprentices, you get Sleetheart. They'll whine less if it's from me."

Greeneyes stood up, shaking her pelt. "Good idea. I hate apprentices, and the feeling is mutual. Plus, they all love you."

After the feast had been gathered and prey bones collected, Greeneyes and Mataiclaw woke the ForestClan cats. The morning was spent colouring stones with dyes, a recent practice BeechClan had picked up. Greeneyes never really enjoyed painting. It never turned out right, and it frustrated her. Sleetheart had always been a talented painter; her level of detail and design was far out of Greeneyes's reach. After sunhigh, the bones were laid out and the Clan carved their designs. 

Dragging her tooth across the bone, Greeneyes hissed as a crack split across the bone, ruining her design. 

"Here, Greeneyes, I'll help you," a soft-spoken voice piped up. 

Greeneyes turned to the cat next to her. Dewfur, the tom who'd argued with her a quarter moon ago. "I'm fine, I don't need help," she snapped, with more bite than she intended to. 

Ignoring her, Dewfur shuffled closer, running a claw across the sloppy grooves she'd carved into the bone. "You're using too much pressure when you carve. Use light nicks when you're just starting out to avoid cracks. When you've got more practice, you can vary the pressure you use to create thicker and thinner lines to add more detail and dimension. Here, see." He pushed his carving closer. Greeneyes eyed the intricacies of his design. The ivory bone curled into a spiral shape, like an unfurled fern frond. It was ridged, a pattern of scales. Greeneyes looked back at her own clumsy attempt of a fish, with jagged, thick lines, and a wobbly outline.

"Thanks for the tip," she said stiffly. Instead of driving her tooth deep into the bone, she touched the tip of her fang to the tough surface. Greeneyes turned her head with jerky movements, scraping grooves into her carving, making neater lines. "This is easier," she admitted. "But it takes so long! I just want it to hurry up and see what the finished piece looks like."

Dewfur shook his head. "You'll never enjoy making art if all you can think about is what it'll look like when it's finished. An art piece is made up of the choices you make along the way. It's about the journey your art takes you on; the emotions you feel as you make it. Every piece tells a story about its creation. But true art is about how it shapes you, what you explore in the piece. You're supposed to enjoy it."

"I suppose. I just get so frustrated when I make a mistake, and that sucks all the fun out of it."

"Mistakes are frustrating, but they give the piece character. They're a piece of yourself in every art work."

Working away at it, Greeneyes liked the sensation of putting tooth to bone. Digging into the cartilage and putting part of herself inside. Her fangs creating art instead of damage. It was carnal, in many ways - it felt natural, like something she was supposed to do. Telling a story through the design she carved into the prey-bone and connecting with the animal itself.

The ferns parted as two figures stepped into camp. The brown and white tabby's muscles rolled as she walked, head held low, as if she was a predator stalking her prey. Greeneyes sat up, dipping her head to Keastar. She gave her a polite smile, fighting the urge to curl her lip into a smirk at the stupid way she walked. It was a BeechClan in-joke about the pretentious way RimuClan walked. Greeneyes was surprised no one had let it slip yet. The second cat walked in with his head held high, long limbs outstretched. The black tom was far more willowy and elegant. Greeneyes stood up, suppressing the purr bubbling in her throat. 

"Hello Keastar, Spiderstar. What brings you to our camp?" She greeted them, extenting her paw in formal gesture. Spiderstar returned the gesture. Keastar barged forward, pressing her nose against Greeneyes's. She gulped, forcing herself to stay nose-to-nose with Keastar, fighting the urge to recoil. No cat ever needed to be that close to another. Keastar stepped back, and Greeneyes let out a long exhale. Spiderstar met her gaze over Keastar's shoulder, smiling at her.

"We thought we'd come and check on how things were going on this half of ForestClan," Keastar explained. She eyed the busy camp, with cats sitting around chatting and carving. "What are you doing?"

Mataiclaw sidled up beside Greeneyes, stepping forward to touch noses with Keastar. They stared intently into each other's eyes as they did so, not having the same uncomfortableness as Greeneyes did. When they broke the greeting, he extented his paw to Spiderstar. Mataiclaw flashed Greeneyes a look, she gave him a nod of encouragement. 

"We're doing an arts day," Greeneyes answered. "It's a good way for ForestClan to come together and share our blended culture."

Keastar nodded. "I like that idea...we could do the same thing in our camp."

Spiderstar lead her aside to a quiet corner of camp. Greeneyes let out the purr she'd been holding it, letting it spill from her throat and into the cooling air. "It's so good to see you again!"

He purred too, sitting down. "I missed my favourite deputy and apprentice. How have you been since our last meeting?" 

"I'm good. Working with Mataiclaw has been easier, though he still needs a lot of practice."

"I'm sure you're keeping him on his paw pads."

The two laughed. With all the work and tension of late, Greeneyes hadn't had a chance to properly talk to her old mentor, one of her closest friends.

"Dewfur taught me some techniques on bone carving today. I actually enjoyed it!" She purred, showing him the creation at her feet. "I didn't expect to, you know how I've always hated painting. But this...I could actually see myself practising." She traced some of the lines. She hated the feeling of sandflies swarming in her stomach, the desperate kithood yearning of approval. 

Spiderstar glanced at it, and scoffed. "I wouldn't practice bone carving that much if I were you. It's a bit primitive."

Greeneyes looked at him. Primitive? Wasn't that a bit...insensitive to RimuClan's culture?

"Of course, to each their own, but I see ForestClan moving past that. RushClan too. When you paint, you can create whole scenes, tell a story, you know? You can use colour and light... it's beautiful. I'm so grateful Yarrowflight invented the form, and countless BeechClan entertainers worked to perfect it."

Greeneyes swallowed her concerns. The latest drama was clouding her judgement. Spiderstar was allowed his own opinions. So what if he preferred painting? He'd never done bone carving before. And maybe he was right - Greeneyes had never had a talent for art. Maybe the reason she connected so well with the bone carving was because it was easier and more backward than painting. BeechClan had progressed from their old beliefs in many ways, like having different crafts, and if Spiderstar saw art changing in that direction, it could be true.

Besides, she knew him better than those RimuClan cats. Spiderstar took her in under his wing as an apprentice, saw potential in her and trained her up. She knew his ways of thinking and all his tricks. All he ever wanted was for BeechClan to thrive, and by bringing ForestClan together, he was ensuring peace for both Clans. That rebellion didn't know anything. After all, Wekafur was one of them, and that told her all she needed to know about whether they were right or wrong.

So she smiled at Spiderstar, who's green eyes twinkled back at her. "You're probably right. But it was fun all the same."