Foxcatcher and his sister were always the first to feel the greenleaf storms coming on. Even they themselves didn't know why the wind stirred them in a way no other cat could fathom: it was, perhaps, something deep within their bones, something spanning generations back to distant ancestors from lands even closer still to the sky.

They didn't dwell on this long, at the very least, Jackaltooth had no interest in pursuing such a troubled past when all the past had ever done was cost those she cared about. Regardless, she obeyed the call her kin when the storm-scent was thick on her nose and the furious winds rippled her fur the long way: she turned, dusty fur darkened by the shadows cast from above.

At the top of a knoll not far off, her brother's patrol turned, shadowed figures looking skywards at clouds primed to give birth to lightning. Behind Jackaltooth, Lightcatcher and Runningstorm both followed her gaze, a limp rabbit each hanging in their jaws.

"We should be getting back soon." Jackaltooth informed them. "I don't know how long we have, but I don't want to push our luck too far."

"Push our luck? You're making this sound like the skies are about to open up on us." Runningstorm mewed, dropping his rabbit and sitting in the grass. He had that infuriating easy half-smirk across his face. It was unclear if he was just optimistic about their prospects in hunting further or if he was challenging the more senior warrior's authority on purpose.

"Oh, we have time. Anyhow, I wouldn't dare come back to camp with the petty load you two've collected." Jackaltooth snapped.

"I'm sorry," Lightcatcher mewed, putting down his rabbit and sulking off into the distance.

"You haven't exactly caught much yourself." Runningstorm retorted.

Jackaltooth cast him a sharp glare. "Fine, you bury the prey then. If I hear another word from you, fish fodder, we're throwing you back into the river where we found you."

"You wouldn't want to ruin this pretty face, would you?"

"On the contrary, it might be an improvement."

"You're vile." hissed Runningstorm, though amusement lit up his face.

"I wasn't kidding." Jackaltooth said, digging a hole and depositing their catch. "Get out of here."

The tom disappeared into a sea of grass and Jackaltooth headed in the other direction, scenting mice not far from their location. When she followed the scent, she found that her prey had been taken out by a fellow predator. A weasel, feasting on the entrails of what should have been her kill, snarled at her with distaste. She, on the other paw, was all bite, and had wrung its neck before it could strike out. She'd had weasel herself on a few occasions. Game-y, sure, but someone in the clan had to like it.

There was a distant rustle from one of her clanmates, and Jackaltooth snuck over.

Runningstorm was approaching a rabbit, which was still but alert in the grass.

His crouch was disgustingly lopsided, and he looked like a lumbering badger instead of a hunter. It was clear his practice with land hunting was still meager at best.

"Fix your haunches," yowled Jackaltooth. The rabbit, who had no intentions of waiting for the adjustment, bolted.

He looked up, ears perked, and saw her not far off. She held the weasel up in her jaws.

The look on his face was the best thing she'd caught all day.

Both of them entered camp with Lightcatcher not far behind. The startled tom snuck off with his kill while they strode side by side, eying each other with intense dislike.

"Is that a weasel?" asked one of the kits, peeking out of the nursery with an excited squeal.

Jackaltooth rustled the beast, and the kit squeaked in alarm, racing back inside. She then placed her catch on the freshkill pile, beside the few remaining rabbits, and then searched the assembling warriors for her littermate.

Foxcatcher was speaking with Blazefury about the perimeter of the territory, or at least that's what she supposed they were speaking about, but never before had she seen anyone so interested in such a mundane topic. There were no limits on RyeClan territory, save the river- as far as they were concerned, they could go far as they wanted. It was just a matter of what the warriors were willing to patrol.

"And say, if we were to patrol the Farskies together..." Blazefury said.

"Yes, together and alone." Foxcatcher mewed.

"We'd be doing the clan a huge service. That's a lot of territory for two cats."

"I believe it is. Nothing we couldn't handle."

"So it's a date." Blazefury leaned in.

"It's a patrol." Foxcatcher countered.

"You two are sneaking off again, aren't you?" asked Jackaltooth.

"Were we? I was under the impression we were going to do the clan a favor and patrol the Farskies alone for the majority of the day tomorrow." Foxcatcher replied as Blazefury inched back into the background. Jackaltooth's brother was young, to the point where he looked more like Runningstorm and the other fledgling warriors than the more formal crowd who flanked Owlstar. The dark-furred leader would be grooming herself with her council of most trusted warriors tonight, as was the custom at the full and new moon.

She could see the itch of anticipation in her brother as he made sideways glances towards the council. He was also casting sidelong glances at Blazefury, who was now speaking with his sister, who resembled him as much as Jackaltooth resembled Foxcatcher. Their closeness was just one more reminder of how thick blood ran in the clan, even after so much of their clan's had been spilled together.

"Storm's coming tonight." Foxcatcher reflected.

"As if I didn't know."

"Leafbare's supposed to be bad, too. Magnoliaheart's predicted a famine unlike anything this clan's ever seen. We should be stocking up now, before things get bad."

Jackaltooth scoffed, "You don't believe that for an instant. Magnoliaheart is a crazy titmouse and one of these days her 'prophecies' are going to bring the whole clan down on itself." Jackaltooth mewed.

Foxcatcher gave her a slow, uncaring nod, watching the rising moon instead of his sibling. Night was setting in now. "Right. I should go. Meeting's coming up, I wouldn't want to be late to that... the older warriors will bite my tail off."

"Good luck," she purred. Jackaltooth pressed her head against her brother's. He held her gaze and then, with a flick of his tail, was gone, leaving her alone in the midst of cats sharing prey and tongues. She cast a spiteful glance at the older warriors, who were staring at her, before taking her prey and resigning herself to a comfortable corner of camp alone.

She ripped open one of Runningstorm's blackbirds only to find the insides already full of maggots and the meat poor, as if it had been dead for half a moon prior. She gagged at once, stumbling away, but the smell still burned in her nostrils.

Magnoliaheart was in front of her in a flash, sniffing the gruesome bird with displeasure. "Oh, this is bad," she informed Jackaltooth. "You didn't kill this, did you?"

"Runningstorm did," Jackaltooth said, pressing the blackbird away from her and towards the calico she-cat.

Magnoliaheart nodded, a quick, jerky movement, and then leaned down to survey it further. "The outside is fresh, but the inside is poor. Someone is a deceiver, a liar... or else, a traitor."

Jackaltooth's fur prickled at the accusation. "You can go interrogate Runningstorm about it."

Magnoliaheart nodded. "That I shall. May your path run straight, Jackaltooth." The calico, too, departed, but her words rung in Jackaltooth's ear.

Traitor.

Perhaps the omen might not be about Runningstorm at all. The very thought of it chilled her to the bone.

Perhaps the stars were spiting her for doubting the validity of the medicine cat's omens. Jackaltooth had her own reasons for believing them false, personal ones, but didn't she herself know of storms long before they came? Indeed, just as she had predicted, there were now dark, billowing clouds over the area, blanketing the world in a ominous silence.

Feeling a strange, creeping guilt up her spine, Jackaltooth stole away to the warriors den, where her den waited inside a massive thicket. It was safe from the rain, and the breath of the other cats steadied her.

I'm being unreasonable, she thought. Just paranoia. I'll be better off after a good night's rest.

This was not a good night, and she wouldn't be sleeping. Instead, she closed one eye and slowed her breath. She curled in her nest in an imitation of sleep. Waiting the councils out was always the hardest part of sneaking out, but if one had the patience, it could be overcome.

The senior warriors didn't come back until late, coming to rest around the far perimeter of the den, at its very back. Other cats shuffled in half-sleep to make way, and the once spacious den was now cluttered with cats, pressed into each other in a tangle of fur and flesh. Jackaltooth was happy for her place near the front, with the fresh air blowing over her fur.

Foxcatcher settled in the den next to hers with a soft huff, paws crossed over each other neatly. He was cold against Jackaltooth's side, though she was just glad to have him back.

He looked as if he belonged elsewhere, even then. In sleep, just as in his waking hours, her brother glowed with health and power.

Jackaltooth hoped he was dreaming of something pleasant, but she could not stay by him tonight. She bid her sibling a silent farewell and went to taste the night for herself, knowing now that no older warriors would be up to stop her.

Though the clouds still loomed and the air was moist, there was no rain to speak of. It was a dry storm, or else the actual precipitation was still a ways off.

The river was hazy as the eyes of a blind cat, and the water was frigid beneath Jackaltooth's paws. She ran her paws through the shallows, hoping the cold would wake her up, but drowsiness hung over her like the storm. The adrenaline of what she was doing had worn off moons ago.

As she approached the bend, she saw her partner in crime waiting on the other side of the river. His thick, ginger fur rustled as he stepped across the river, undeterred by the chilly water. He shook himself off like a dog on the other side, evenly distributing the water between the both of them.

Well, that was one way to wake up.

"No one followed you?" she asked him, though she could scent no other cat in the area.

"Did anyone follow you?" asked Martentuft.

"If the answer was 'no', we'd both be dead or detained by our clanmates by now. You know what happens to cats who meet up at midnight." Jackaltooth glanced up at the sky, wondering if the cats who'd been slain for their crime made it up to the stars. If not, then she'd just have to disappear.

"You ask me anyways." Martentuft insisted.

"I suppose. It's a formality." she sighed, "So, have you found anyone we might be able to sway to the cause? Having a rebellion with two rebels is kind of pathetic."

"I don't think you can really call this is a rebellion, and no," he mewed, "I didn't. I did have something else I wanted to discuss, however... I don't know if I can keep doing this."

Jackaltooth's eyes narrowed. "You're having second thoughts."

"I'm a warrior now. Martentuft. It's not so much that I'm afraid, but I'm just having doubts on if all of this is worth it. I-"

"Congratulations." she mewed, "Doubts are only natural. Disappointing, sure, but natural. You do plan to finish your fathers work, don't you?"

"My father's work? My father finished his work. I'm not here to seduce a hapless she-cat without regards for the orphans that'll be created in the wake of our relationship. I'm not here to provoke a battle, and I don't plan on dying on the edge of the bluff, leaving two apprentices to fill in the pieces of my murder. I want to end this, all of it, for good." Martentuft's claws unsheathed, the old fire in his eyes.

"You sure you aren't seducing anyone? I can scent that friend of yours on your fur, Martentuft." Jackaltooth's gaze narrowed to slit eyes and scarcely masked amusement.

Martentuft held himself steady. "I'm waiting before we're older to try anything, I can tell you that much. Don't give me that face, I know you've got nothing going on. You don't have to push off your insecurities on me, Jackaltooth."

"Tsk. You're no fun."

"Yes, it's just... about earlier. The rebellion? We don't do anything, Jackaltooth. We were just two idealistic apprentices, upset we'd been lied to, excited about changing a world we really knew nothing about. You're still my best friend, true, but I'm saying this for your sake: we put each other in danger every time we come here."

"I suppose so." Jackaltooth averted her gaze. "Your half siblings are getting along well."

Martentuft nodded. "Thank you."

The skies finally opened in a downpour. The river rippled and swelled, and it would soon become unsafe to cross. Both cats knew this, and Martentuft shivered, turning to cross the river.

"Two days after the half moon?" asked Jackaltooth.

He looked back and dipped his head. The questions still lingered in the air between them as he fled, and her fur bristled in the rain.

When she returned, Jackaltooth kept herself just a hair away from her brother, not eager to explain why both their nests had been the sole recipients of a sudden interior rainstorm.

The older warriors trembled in their sleep.

(A/N: sorry there was math and also a writer's block. will try to get another chapter out this weekend but idk man life just keeps happening.)