Bearstrike stirred in her nest, her muscles protesting as she stretched, a dull ache from the previous day's exertion still clinging to her limbs. As her eyes fluttered open, the familiar scents of the warriors' den filled her nose, but there was something else—something enticing. Her gaze shifted, landing on a neatly placed piece of mouse and a squirrel resting just beside her nest. A soft smile tugged at her lips.

"Must've been my brother," she thought fondly, letting out a long yawn as she shifted to sit up.

Before she could decide which to eat first, Snowdrop entered, his pale fur glinting faintly in the morning light that filtered through the den's entrance. His jaws were full with a bundle of herbs, their sharp, earthy scent cutting through the warmth of the den. He set them down carefully by the wall before looking over at her, his blue eyes softening when they met hers.

"Are you awake? Good," he said, padding closer. He nudged the squirrel toward her with a gentle flick of his paw. "Wolfshadow put these fresh kills by your nest so you'd eat something. He said you'd been looking thin." His tone was light, but there was a trace of concern beneath it, the same unspoken worry that always lingered in his gaze.

Bearstrike leaned down, her hunger finally winning out as she took a bite of the squirrel. The taste was rich and grounding, and she savored it, feeling some of her strength returning with each bite. As she ate, her thoughts wandered to the rest of her family, to the changes that had swept through their lives so quickly.

"How's Mom?" she asked, her voice soft but edged with curiosity. She still wasn't entirely used to the idea of her mother, Hareheart, now bearing the name and mantle of a leader. The image of her ascending to the Moonstone, receiving her nine lives, felt almost surreal. She was proud, of course, but it still felt strange to think of her as "Harestar."

Snowdrop's expression brightened at the mention of their mother. "Harestar is fine," he said warmly, his tail curling around his paws as he sat beside her. "She's resting now after the trip to the Moonstone. It took a lot out of her, as you'd expect, but she's strong. She'll be back on her paws before you know it."

Bearstrike nodded, her heart swelling with a mix of relief and admiration. Hareheart—no, Harestar—had always been a pillar of strength for their family, and now she was a pillar for the entire clan. The thought filled Bearstrike with a sense of pride, even if it was tempered by the weight of everything her mother now carried.

Snowdrop leaned in slightly, his voice dropping as though sharing a secret. "She mentioned you, you know. During her vigil. Said she was proud of you—proud of all of us." His smile grew, a rare, unguarded warmth spreading across his face.

Bearstrike paused mid-bite, her eyes widening slightly. The simple words wrapped around her like a blanket, filling her with a comfort she hadn't realized she needed. Swallowing the bite of squirrel, she smiled back at Snowdrop. "She said that?"

"She did," Snowdrop affirmed, a teasing glint entering his eyes. "So, don't go making her regret it by skipping meals and running yourself ragged, Bearstrike."

She chuckled softly, the sound surprising even herself. For the first time in days, the weight on her shoulders didn't feel quite as heavy. Snowdrop's presence, the warmth of her brothers, and the knowledge that Harestar was still their steadfast mother beneath the title all reminded her of what she was fighting for.

And for now, that was enough.

Snowdrop chuckled softly, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, by the way," he began, his voice tinged with amusement, "Ashpaw came by earlier with a mouse for you too. Said something about wanting to make sure you had something fresh to eat. But Wolfshadow chased him off, growling about how you'd need your sleep more than a visit."

Bearstrike's ears twitched at the mention of the name. "Ashpaw?" she echoed, her brow furrowing slightly as the image of the young mottled ashy tom flickered in her mind. She hadn't spent much time with him outside of the usual clan duties—training, patrols, shared meals—but now that she thought about it, there had been moments. Small ones, barely noticeable at the time: the way he always seemed to position himself near her during gatherings, the glances he threw her way when he thought she wasn't looking.

Snowdrop's tail twitched, and a knowing smile spread across his face. "Yeah," he said, drawing the word out playfully, "that guy's quite persistent. Always finding some excuse to check in on you. Dropping off prey, asking how you're doing after patrols... you'd think he was your apprentice with how much attention he pays." He tilted his head, his gaze sparkling with humor. "I think he likes you, sister."

Bearstrike blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Ashpaw? Liking her? The thought was foreign, almost absurd—but the more she let it settle, the more it started to make sense. Her fur grew warm despite herself, and she flicked her tail in a failed attempt to mask her flustered reaction.

"He doesn't like me," she said, though the words came out less confident than she intended. "He's just... friendly."

Snowdrop gave a mock-serious nod, his whiskers twitching with amusement. "Oh, yes. Very 'friendly.' Nothing says casual friendliness like sneaking prey into the warriors' den before the sun's even up." His tone was light, but his grin widened when he saw her attempt to glare at him.

Bearstrike shook her head, trying to brush off the conversation, though her thoughts lingered on the mottled tom. Was Snowdrop right? Did Ashpaw actually like her? And more importantly—how did she feel about that?

Snowdrop leaned closer, nudging her lightly with his shoulder. "Relax, Bearstrike," he said, his teasing tone softening into something gentler. "It's not a bad thing, you know. He's a good cat. And honestly, it's about time someone started paying attention to you like that. You deserve it."

Bearstrike opened her mouth to retort but found no words came. Instead, she glanced down at the remnants of her squirrel, her mind suddenly too full of thoughts to focus on finishing her meal. Snowdrop's words stayed with her, sinking deeper than she cared to admit.

Was it really so bad if someone liked her? If Ashpaw liked her?