If we've seen mystery movies or read mystery novels, I bet we've seen the big "realization" of the story. In the movies, it's probably a set of hidden scenes of the crime where you see what actually happened, but by then, I assume we'd already have a good understanding of what happened and how. Books, you can just imagine the scene play out as if it were a film. It plays out so clearly and should connect the last bit of information of the plot.

When that happens, the characters usually go through a moment of shock and utter confusion, their minds racing a million miles an hour as they try to figure out the next location where the criminal will strike. Everything happens so fast for them and by then, time is running out for them. They either need to act on it now or else the criminal's going to get away. This is when you sit on the edge of your seat as you watch the screen play the next scene or hold your breath as your eyes scan across the words for more information, wanting to know what happens next.

But, this is towards the falling action of the book, and when we're around the falling action, that usually means a book is coming to an end.

X X X

Mothpaw had never seen such chaos unravel in a matter of seconds. She thought CinderClan's arrival would've been more hectic than it really was, but the moment Cedarsky waltzed in with a lackadaisical grin and a lustful desire for a deep sleep before the promised battle sent the Clans into a series of events that made her head hurt as it wrapped around the situation. The apprentice den was blocked by Adderfang and Bramblethorn so curious cats wouldn't barge in on their so-called prisoner's nap. That didn't stop warriors and apprentices from sneaking around to take a glimpse of what this rogue happened to look like.

Warriors shouted and cheered for each other, renewed strength returning to them like jubilant kits. Apprentices eagerly skipped about, readying themselves for another battle they'd throw themselves into. The camp was full of chatter and conversations that Mothpaw couldn't think or figure out what she'd do to make herself useful. Honeypaw and Scarpaw rounded up their group of cats and seemed to hand out instructions to Breezepaw and Whitepaw, who couldn't sit straight with the excitement swimming around them.

On the highrock sat Ashstar and Aspenstar, clearly overwhelmed by the news, even with their deputies at their side attempting to soothe them down. Neither Clearwhisker or Speckleflash's efforts calmed them and even if they did manage to lower their pride and listen, all it took was a simple scream of victory or a roar of triumph from a warrior or kit to send them back into a terrified state.

Dapplefur rushed back and forth with Finchpaw and Whitepaw at her heels, carrying batches of the little traveling herbs they had left in their jaws and distributing them amongst the cats. Her paws continually passed by cats, dropping the eaves before rushing back to serve another cat, an endless cycle as spirits rose. The two apprentices bounced after her with heaps of energy and a skip in their feet, gleefully following the hard-working she-cat. Warriors grouped together and practiced blows and yowled with courage each time a brawl ended, picking up another fight soon afterwards.

Seated by the nursery where Raccoonstem and lay, there was a greater feeling in Mothpaw then what she would've gotten if she left and joined the fray dwelling in MeadowClan. Even if she didn't approve of CinderClan cats romping, seeing her Clan active was a sight to behold. Never once had she seen the Clan instructing eager apprentices, constantly snapping at the rambunctious cats to settle down so they could hear what they had to say. Reverting back to the hyper kits they once were, the apprentices bounced about and constantly found something new to discover, leaving their mentor's side and instructions to satisfy their curiosity.

Beechpaw had left her side and walked around camp with Olivepaw at his side. The black apprentice still walked in a colorless world and heard nothing but faint calls and cries in the distance, but her paws kept up with the older tom's pace as they chatted. Her recovery was going well, from what Mothpaw heard from Hailbreeze. While Runningpaw and Tumblekit spent more time together, the striped tom attempting to bring back a happy kit, his sister received daily visits from past friends and family, each talking to her for a few minutes of the day before departing. She had gone to her friend and reminisced about the time when they went to the Moon Tree and the best she got out of the black cat was a nod.

It didn't matter to her now, as Olivepaw proved herself to be a skilled fighter despite her monotonous self. Mothpaw guessed her friend forcefully exchanged her brilliance and energy for heightened senses of empathy and understanding. Every cat she bumped into had immense strength and desire to fight the rogues back in their fragile state, even if it meant they put their life on the cliff. She couldn't imagine watching cats drop one by one like flies, life vanishing from this world and entering into a vast unknown world.

There's so StarClan, there's no StarClan, there's no StarClan, she repeated in her mind, going over the facts she and her brother went over. If there was a StarClan they'd help us. They wouldn't have let Dapplefur give birth to Breezepaw and Whitepaw only to throw them up as sacrifices. They wouldn't have left our prayers go unanswered. They wouldn't have allowed Aspenstar to leave MeadowClan without a medicine cat and become CinderClan's leader over time. They wouldn't have let Daystar randomly go missing, like the other cats. They would've killed my father the moment he left his home and family.

And they didn't lift a single paw.

"Hello, little Mothpaw," a lazy voice soothed from the shadows, making her screech and jump into the air. Cedarsky lunged forward and slammed a paw over her mouth, muffling the rest of the cry before another cat heard them. Mothpaw's eyes sparked with fear under the rogue's paws, her neck and underbelly exposed to her thorn-sharp claws. Surprisingly, the calico released her but kept a paw on her shoulder as she sat down, carefully watching the apprentice. Afraid, the silver she-cat stayed silent and began to scan her surroundings for possible escape routes if she was attacked.

At least Wolfeyes or Rabbitbranch would notice her if she just let out a large scream. Then she spotted the apprentice den, still guarded by Bramblethorn and Adderfang, unaware that the rogue had escaped. Mothpaw's jaw fell open and Cedarsky let out a small chuckle, placing her tail on her paws.

"I have my ways. You'll have to fix the hole I made, though," she responded.

"Hole?! You know we're about to march into battle and you---"

"We may fight, but do note that I'd love to spend some time to get to know you guys. Nettlestar did it, right? So why can't I? Am I any different than him?" Cedarsky glanced over her shoulder and licked her pelt clean, flicking her eyes. "Is it because of my pelt? Or is it my gender?"

"I-I... What do you want?" Mothpaw growled, perfecting her escape. "Are you going to kill me in the shadows?"

"I would've already done that, had that been my plan."

"Then what do you want? The entire Clan's getting prepared for a battle and we might leave in a few moments. Are you going to randomly switch sides? And who's side are you even going to fight on when we get to CinderClan?" demanded Mothpaw, questions spilling out of her mouth without brakes.

"Those are a lot of questions and I don't have the energy to answer all of them," yawned Cedarsky, laying down, letting her eyes flutter shut. Mothpaw's face dropped and the calico snuggled in the dirt as if it were fluffy feathers, perfectly content. Lazily and bluntly, she purred. "I'm a mass murderer with unfathomable love and desire for sleep and naps. I believe answering questions is easily shoved under wanting to sleep."

"Is that all you do? Sleep? Do you sleep everywhere and any given time?!" Mothpaw sputtered, disbelief and doubt flooding her at the cat at her paws, a so-called "murderer" exposing her neck - not that she suspected the slothful cat could easily get up and deal a devastating slash to her neck.

"Always," murmured Cedarsky, about to fall into the depths of slumber. Mothpaw quickly reacted and without thought, slammed her paw against the calico's shoulder, making her grunt and moan. A single, green eye opened and locked onto her tiny frame, intentions masked by a deep shade of lethal viridescent pools. She held in a high-pitched yelp, trembling.

Raising an eye, Cedarsky rolled over and nodded to the spot next to her. "Sit down, I won't harm you."

Yet, she thought with a deep swallow. As you said, a cat's word and mind are two different things. You and I aren't that mouse-brained to know that we're putting ourselves in a deadly situation. A slam to my neck and there goes my life, but you're in front of a crowd. Not like it bothers you, anyways.

"Come on already," she prompted, whapping her tail beside her. "We're not going to get another chance to talk after this battle is over and done with."

"What does that mean? Are you expecting me to die out there? Are you expecting to die? Are you expecting all of us to die out there?" Mothpaw questioned, inching away through invisible chains. "What exactly are your intentions?" she whispered an extra, "besides a life full of sleep?" and Cedarsky hadn't picked it up.

"I'm just expecting one side to finally win. That's all," she replied. "Do you want some kind of grand speech of my life? That sounds like work and I don't want to do that when I can sleep. You have a warm pelt, too. How about you take a nap?"

"I... I can't," she answered firmly. "I can't be like you and sleep while my only family is out there working to free us." At this, Cedarsky whisked her head towards Beechpaw, pinpointing his location next to the silent Olivepaw. And, as if she could tell just from first glance, spotted Honeypaw, still weak and shaking on her paws, but alive and well, leaning on Scarpaw for support. Something in her expression changed, like an invisible cat had come up and whispered into her ear words of lies and truth. Her ear flicked and she put her chin on her paws, sighing.

"I probably would understand, had ever known what a loving mother or loyal father," Cedarsky explained. "My mother died of sickness before I could stand and my father left for another she-cat that produced two, healthy kits. Twins, even worse for me." The calico tsked in annoyance and swept her paw across the clearing, claws unleashing to scar the earth. Mothpaw stared at the marks, blood turning cold at the realization.

"Killing them was easy. Then it was my father. He died a swift death at the paws of the daughter he abandoned."

She hardly said a word, eyes pinned onto the three clawmarks in the soft soil. The three lives of her family dealt with by her own claws. Mothpaw eyed the sharp claws carefully, counting how many cats that the rogue might've taken over the course of her life. Her paws itched and crawled with spiders at the mere thought and idea of Cedarsky sleeping on a pile of corpses, snoozing away as the sun rose and set. If she turned against MeadowClan, she could visibly see distinct pelts she'd grown up with lying underneath another empty body.

That would surely any cat fleeing for the shade of the forest or the burrows of the meadow. Mothpaw gulped and backed away from Cedarsky, who let out a snort of amusement and got up as well, pushing away her laziness. Her heart skipped a beat and she tripped over her paws, landing on her rear with the rogue's figure towering over her like an ominous shadow, teeth gleaming in her silhouette with a bloodlust so dense leaking out that wrapped around neck. Freezing, she couldn't move as the calico advanced, enjoying her fear and quivering body.

"Wh-what are you going to do?" she sputtered, attempting to sound brave. "If you're going to kill me... At least tell me how you stole our cats!" Mothpaw flared her nostrils and scrambled to her feet, forcing her backlegs to twist and turn in an awkward standing position. Cedarsky raised an eyebrow and then sneered, slowly turning her gaze toward the apprentice den.

"I'm sure you've noticed by now I'm one of the best kidnappers. I can sneak out of places without getting caught and have the skills to swoop in a pick off cats like they were mice," she boasted, turning toward Splashpelt. The world opened up and swallowed Mothpaw whole at the next phrases that filled her ears. "He was going to be next, but Nettlestar's curiosity got the best of him and never gave me the orders. It wouldn't be the last cat I stole."

"H-how did you do it...?" Mothpaw gasped, tears pricking her eyes as her voice became weaker and weaker. "You're the one responsible for all of this... It wasn't just MeadowClan you stole from, was it? CinderClan must've suffered too." The apprentice gathered her strength and sprang backwards, catching herself before she could fall. She dropped into a crouch, hackles rising as her claws slid out of her paws. Cedarsky never looked afraid or bothered, feeding off of the fear that bubbled in the skittish she-cat's throat as if it were a fat rabbit.

Get away from her! Her entire body screamed and her nerves yanked and tugged at her paws, hoping to move their hoist away from the danger. Icy roots shot out of the ground and tied her down, immobilizing her at Cedarsky's mercy. Mothpaw's lips quivered and trembled, unsure what to say.

Cedarsky's eyes lit up with the thrill that mimicked a certain gray she-cat's demeanor, one that Mothpaw saw die over and over like shattered glass. Throwing her head into the air, she announced, "Finally! You're right, Mothpaw. I'm the cat you want. That lazy she-cat who hates lifting a paw to work but can snatch anyone, warrior or kit, right under your noses!"

"How?!" Mothpaw managed to snap, hoping Rabbitbranch or Wolfeyes would notice her terror. "How do you steal them?! Swanflame never left camp when she went missing! Firefleck was in a patrol! Mallowkit was sleeping beside Hailbreeze! How?!"

"Do you remember the day when that Firefleck cat went missing?" prompted Cedarsky, prancing around her like a tiger. "Out for a simple border patrol. My mission was clear: grab any of those cats that could chase me. All I had to do was cause some kind of disturbance and then run. Pay attention to borders so they wouldn't lose interest. Then advance and fight. After they're knocked out, all I had to do was drag their body around territory - worst part of that job. The last step was a simple jump in that river that flows through the meadow. Washes the scent right off. Drowning is a very long and boring process, by the way."

Mothpaw fell over as the rest of the stories clicked together, images of her clanmates life flashing before her eyes. A monster charging toward a brown she-cat before striking her. An exhausted orange she-cat that lost the incomer only to receive a devastating attack from behind. Sound asleep in the nursery until the soft sounds of scratching awakened them, causing them to slip away. Forgotten memories and truths revealing themselves after a long slumber. She pressed her ears against her skull to block out the horrid stories and tales, but Cedarsky's words were like wind, slipping through the cracks and ruffling her fur in an icy embrace.

And her posionous words continued to spill from her tongue as truth came crashing down like a wave, grabbing Mothpaw in a sea of words without much time to collect her breath. They rang in her ears like thunder and spread across her flesh like cold wildfire. She wanted to scream, cry out, yell, shout, but her throat squeezed together in a tight knot, preventing any pleas.

"All it really took was staying hidden in the camp. In plain sight with a scent nobody could recognize. Mind you, rolling around in some other cat's scent is very disgusting, but it worked and I was able to drag Swanflame out with the scent of her beloved mate when she was alone. Nobody hardly noticed her slipping into the tall grass that surrounds this camp, and all I had to do was quickly attack and drag her away." Cedarsky glanced lovingly at the nursery, eyeing a certain dark-furred she-cat who had three, tiny kits in her paws. Mothpaw's heart twisted that forced her paws to work again, throwing herself back in the rogue's attention.

No... And since we had so little cats... Echoflight told me that Ashstar had sent out huge patrols, barely leaving the camp guarded... That was the perfect opportunity for Cedarsky to come in and strike. Nobody noticed she disappeared because they thought she had gone for a walk and after a few days, she was believed to be missing. Mothpaw's head spun as more possibilities seeped through her brain.

Mallowkit taken away under the blanket of night. The sound of scratching on the walls awakening him and causing him to search for an opening. Barely having enough time to yelp when a paw suddenly emerged and snatched him from underneath, throwing him into the tall grass to muffle his cry. His back thumping against the cold ground, dazing him for a brief moment. An unknown cat twice his size pouncing at his defenseless state, easily silencing any acts of resisting.

Bubblepaw taken through her warrior assessment. The prey she had caught herself stacked in a neat trail, sparking a sense of curiosity to follow. Her paws taking her to the edge of MeadowClan's border to see the trail of prey abruptly ending. A strong force leaping from behind, swiping a paw across her backlegs, causing her to slip and splash into the cold river. Someone else jumping in the river with her as currents rushed over her pelt, her vision clouded with the murky water. A weight pressed against her back while her entire body cried out and searched for warrior skills she had trained for for so long. Darkness encasing her just as the mountain lifted.

Sagefeather vanishing while searching for herbs. Noticing the place where the catmint grew had suddenly been dug up. Following the scent that was left and actually spotting the rogue responsible for the robbery. A long fight full of hissing and growling following, her strength failing her in the end with her heavy stomach. The last time she was in the territory of her beloved Clan ending with her being dragged away like a bird.

Palemoon falling into an even darker world. A cat whispering words of an incoming danger and urging the blind she-cat to take action. Following the voice she heard in her dreams out of the camp and into the open mouth of a ditch. The soft, guiding voice suddenly turning dark and menacing, laughing as the white she-cat vainly tried to escape. By the time her Clan found her, her blind eyes were staring up at the sun, seeing nothing ever again.

Heatherpaw slipping through the rules of her Clan to meet with a rogue every night, learning new skills and tactics in battle. The cat that became her second mentor raising her like she was loved. How dark the sky was when lightning struck to reveal the empty nest in the apprentice den. The smell of blood raining down on every leaf in the forest, caging her Clan in an endless nightmare.

The reasons and mastermind behind the scenes, tricking death itself as they jumped shadow to shadow, light to light, seeking out new victims each moon stood before her.

A lazy, slothful, and sluggish murderer that could fall over and sleep during the middle of a battle.

StarClan...

"If... if what you're saying is true and all you had to do was sneak around camp and take the long way, then why didn't you do it every day? Were there certain cats you were after?" Mothpaw demanded, shaking her head. "Was Daystar and Amberfeather a cat you abducted?"

Cedarsky froze at the two names and glared at Mothpaw, revealing nothing. Her ear flicked and she glanced over her shoulder, watching the highrock closely. The apprentice stood on her toes and looked at it as well, spotting Ashstar rising to his paws with Deerleaf at his side, looking down at his Clan. Cats immediately died down and perked their heads up, eager to hear their orders.

Perhaps, their final orders. After all, they were charging into a battle against a group of rogues they knew nothing about in a weakened state. Herbs were limited and the lack of prey draining their energy and strength with each second. A group of cats uniting under fear alone, ready to fight for their life and their clanmates. Ready to charge into death's paws openly, sticking their necks. Every apprentice and warrior, joining to die.

But joining to fight.

To become a real warrior.

A Clan cat.

To proudly call themselves members of MeadowClan and CinderClan.

That was all the courage and bravery Mothpaw could want and ask for. She faced Cedarsky, who had a look of shock and disgust painted on her face. Instead of running, her paws forced her to walk by the dangerous cat, two icy, green eyes following her path. Beechpaw was waiting for her, she could tell. She found him without trouble and flashed him a bright smile despite the enraged ball of spite and hate erupting behind her. Her brother gave her a worried look, noticing her company and cast a dark look at them.

Mothpaw shook her head and before she bounded off to join him and tell him about her discoveries, she stopped in her tracks. Jerking her head around, she locked eyes with Cedarsky, fighting to keep her mind relaxed all the while building a wall strong enough to keep her fear under control. The calico's expression didn't change and her tail lashed with anger, admitting defeat and turning around, ready to follow the apprentice. She bit her tongue and thought about it for a second before shaking her head, imaging the murderous rogue like a tiny Runningpaw.

"Say what you want... but know that I'll give you a fight worth remembrance. I may not be the strongest cat in the Clan, but I know how to fight under fear. I've been living in it ever since I opened my eyes, so I'm scared thinking a life without it, but... I find that something worth risking." With that, Mothpaw left Cedarsky's side and raced over to Beechpaw, practically colliding with her older brother with a squeal. He welcomed her with a warm embrace, contrasting the rogue's aura, and she was sure she heard that cat send a curse into the empty sky.

None of that mattered to her anymore.

Curse to the sky all you want, she thought, narrowing her eyes at Cedarsky, quickly avoiding eye contact when the calico whisked her head around. The sky's empty; nobody can hear you.