The walk down to the Bend was a pleasant one at dawn, if a long one. The new camp was much further away from the river, and the diagonal path from there down to the Bend was probably fraught with undergrowth that would need to be cleared before it was clean enough to be an effective time saver. Lilystep took the old path down to camp, where a few warriors were already hard at work hunting, with the intent to carry on from there.

The waters were still, and it seemed ridiculous from a passing glance that anyone could believe these were the waters that would gorge on the heir old home and spit out the remnants as little more than driftwood, but in just a few moons all of this would be below the tides whether anyone wished it to be so or not.

Sometimes, the most dangerous foes did not announce their presence and destroy life as the clan knew it overnight. Sometimes, they never spoke at all. Change came slowly, but it would come in time, no matter what mortals might do to abate it.

It was one of the things Lilystep admired most about his clan- they were adaptable, like the shores, but resolute as the river. Now, if only he could get them to admire him...

Cranewing noticed him first, eyes wide. Lilystep wasn't sure what kind of reaction he had expected, but Cranewing's face twisted into an uneasy frown. "Er, Lilystep? Can you try not to walk through the water?"

Lilystep looked down and saw the fish scattering about his paws, and looked back to Cranewing. "Oh. Erm. Apologies. Congratulation on your warrior name, by the way. Creekrush has only ever had kind things to say about you."

Cranewing's fur stood straight on end, and his nicked ear twitched. "T-thanks," he said.

Lilystep hastily got out of the water, leaving the former apprentice alone with two other warriors, Stormpath and Hazelpool. Neither of them seemed particularly happy about the tom disturbing their hunting. Hackles raised, Lilystep disappeared down the shoreline, the gritty sand coarse beneath his paws.

He had been born in the greenleaf moons, in the first few days in the new camp, and his mother had almost failed to make it there. His first memories were of harsh storms and the river-scent, of fish and reeds mixed with milk and his littermate's fur. The three of them, gray and similar in size all, had reportedly looked almost identical up until late apprenticehood, when Creekpaw's battle scars and Lilypaw's cowering posture had given them both away.

Lilypaw decided not to dwell on this unfortunate distinction too much, and instead enjoyed the calm pink sunrise and the still waters of the early morning. The distant bank was dappled in a frenzy of bright, glimmering oranges by the rising sun, and the water, too, practically beamed with the reflection of dawn clouds and the great orb of light rising into the sky.

He left them behind for a while as the open banks were overtaken by trees and reads, although the sky opened up again at the Bend. There, nature itself exhaled and though tension ran high between the cats, the world around them couldn't care less. Dragonflies flitted from side to side, untethered by boundaries, and the fish in the shallow river flashed between the muddy pools before settling, only to dart out from their hiding places again only moments later.

He arrived as the sun was just high enough to peek in, casting light on the other side of the Bend. A red cat emerged into the sun's spotlight, her fur so bright that she appeared to be like the fabled wildflowers of RyeClan territory. Lilystep even thought he might have seen some of the very petals on her fur, but despite the allure of her femininity, there was a sharp, dangerous appeal to her as well. Her eyes were eagle-sharp, and when her green eyes caught his he almost trembled.

"Hello over there?" he asked meekly, his voice carried by the breeze across the river.

The she-cat flicked her ear. "Who are you? Is this your first time?"

"N-no? Why would you think that?" he said, taken aback.

"You look young, and trying to strike a conversation with an enemy warrior is a rookie mistake." Her eyes narrowed as she spat the last part.

"That's a harsh assumption. I'll have you know I'm the brother of Creekrush herself." So not young, and certainly not a rookie.

"The Creekrush."

"The same," he professed, glad to have found a topic that was at least of some shared interest.

"Interesting, I fought her in one of my few skirmishes on the border. She was a respectable warrior, if ambitious in her strategy. Should never have tried to pin me without securing my back paws- ask her where she got that scar on her underbelly from. I don't fight with my claws sheathed. See, there's just the one problem... I didn't ask who your sister was. I asked about you. Who are you?"

"My name is Lilystep." he told her.

"I wasn't aware there were lilies on the ShallowClan side of the border." the she-cat replied in a hushed voice, almost imperceivable across the river. It was only by the miracle of the morning's silence that he heard her.

They stood immobile, just a treelength of impassable space between them, and as if the conversation had never happened at all, the she-cat went back to grooming herself. Lilystep took to watching the dragonflies, tracking their movements. He had once heard from an elder that in the time before the clans, certain bands of cats believed that the spirits of the dead lived on in the bodies of things like dragonflies. It was a ridiculous idea, when he had seen the starry spirits of the river himself, but they still looked unworldly with the light reflecting off their wings.

It was much later when Lilystep's stomach growled in distaste, eager to queue him in, and he realized he hadn't bought any prey. He stepped into the river, and the water was cold but refreshing in the muggy heat of greenleaf sunhigh. He was almost fine with missing the fish he'd intended to catch when he pounced and fell into the water with a large splash.

He was less fine when he looked up and saw the she-cat eying him with a shrewd expression.

"Oh, uh..." Lilystep said, well aware of the half-treelength now between them.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, then continued, pushing forth her prey, a plump and startled looking rabbit. "You can share mine."

Lilystep looked at the river, and then back to her, which must've conveyed all she needed to know.

"I'll cross. Water's going to wash off the scent if the mud doesn't, but I'll stay on the banks anyways. Trust me, I've done this before."

Lilystep backed up onto the shore, and as he stepped onto the shore she stepped into the water. Her fur was, if possible, even more radiant underwater, billowing out around her as she walked the river with the poise of a spirit. If he hadn't known better, with all the light glimmering off her fur, he would have thought she was a starry ancestor, coming down to speak to him... yet here she was, fully mortal and passing to his side of the river.

She stepped out dripping, green eyes fixed on his, and sat down.

He placed a paw on hers. "You're on my side of the border now. Within the established rules of the current Olive Branch peace treaty, I'm now allowed to attack you without fear of repercussion from your clan. Rookie mistake."

"Was it? Are you going to try to pin me?" she asked, dropping her rabbit. "You won't get to eat this if you do."

"I was joking." he said.

"I know." she replied. "Here, you first."

The thought crossed his mind that the rabbit might be poisoned, but he already had his teeth into it and was chowing down. The flavor was distinct from anything that he'd ever had in Shallowclan; there was something almost smokey about it and the traces of wildflowers were unmistakeable. He managed to cut himself off at around half and passed it over to Ramstrike, who finished it and tossed the carcass into the river.

"For safety," she told him.

He nodded deftly.

She lingered there awhile, shimmering like a mirage off the river, and then turned to leave. Lilystep regretted at once not speaking up earlier, and then the length between them extended back to a treelength before he could think of a thing to say.

"What's your name?" he called at last, unsure if she'd respond at all.

"I'm the brother of Blazefury, who's twice the hopeless romantic you are. Don't ask him about his scars- he doesn't have any, the sad mop of wet fur." replied the she-cat, emerging onto the other bank.

"I didn't ask for your brother's name. I asked for yours." Lilystep said.

"Ramstrike," purred the she-cat, just loud enough to hear from the other side. "Oh, but don't tell anyone. They won't believe you, and when it comes to my word over yours, you're going straight into the river."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You'd do well to."

She went back to grooming herself. The dragonflies were almost gone now, Lilystep didn't know if they'd gone further down the river or back to whatever realm they came from. The last one in the clearing had red light on its wings now, the last parting gift from the slowly setting sun. The dragonfly snuck off upstream and the sun disappeared from the clearing altogether, leaving only dusky twilight to guide both cats on their way home.

"It's getting late." Ramstrike told him. "Perhaps we'll meet again, Lilystep. If not, I wish you luck in future endeavors, whatever they might be." She turned to her trees and was gone. Even the spot where she'd emerged on the river had been wiped by the tides, likely just as she'd predicted. He scented for her and was both sad yet relieved to find nothing.

Still, to readily engage in such risky behavior...

Speaking with her had been almost like a game of some sort, a puzzle, a fight where the only blows were fought with words that had to be matched stroke for stroke, pawstep for pawstep. The walk to camp seemed much shorter, and by the time he got home, it was almost like he was running on air. He felt lighter than the birds, overcome by a dizzying joy. He nosed the freshkill pile for rabbits and settled on a mouse, taking it away to a corner of the new camp close to the medicine den. He wondered if there were any wildflowers in Bluepetal's den.

"Someone's happy today." purred a low voice. Lilystep's fur stood on end as his sisters approached, side by side, and sat down next to them with their own prey.

"I know enough apprentices and see enough of Leapingpaw to know that look. He's not just happy, he's smitten." Rainfern announced with glee, then leaned in. "So, who's the lucky she-cat?"

"I'm not sure 'lucky' is the right word." Creekrush objected with a sly purr.

"I-" Lilystep started, then realized he had no way, rhyme, or reason with which to explain Ramstrike's conversation with him. He rolled a mouse bone beneath his paw. "Uh..."

"You were on bend patrol all day, though. There's no way you could have met anyone. Unless..." Rainfern shook her head. "Stars, you can't be serious."

"I just talked to this one cat across the stream. That's not against the rules, is it?" In a quieter tone, he added, "You're not going to report me, are you?"

Both she-cats leaned in.

"Are you kidding? Of course we're going to report you." Creekrush hissed beneath her breath.

"I hear if you fall in love with a cat from across the river and get found out, they kill you." Rainfern noted. "There's no way we're reporting him."

"You won't really tell, will you?"

"We were joking." insisted Rainfern. "Right, Creekrush?

"Yes, but just... you have to be more careful than that, Lilystep. You could get hurt. We could get hurt." Creekrush's ears were flat, but it was worry and not anger that colored her expression.

"She said she knew you." Lilystep whispered.

"She should, since I'm the cat who's going to push her over the bluff if she so much as touches my brother again." her claws unsheathed and Lilystep pulled back. His mouse was finished and the darkness and their presence were both growing suffocating.

"I'm going to sleep," he told them.

He hoped she would dissipate like morning dew overnight, but instead, she distilled into everything. The sunrise the next morning reminded Lilystep of Ramstrike, and the dragonflies too, and even the river. He could see her in every trace of red on the horizon and every bit of green in the overhead canopies.

He didn't remember his dreams, but he knew he'd scented wildflowers somewhere in there.

(A/N: Now that you know most of the cast and we can really get going, best sibling pair and best potential ship? Just curious. Also, we're coming up on 1K, so in a few chapters I'll start taking suggestions for what POV you guys want to see. Thanks again for the support and lovely comments, it really does mean the world to me. :3)