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   All around her, the world burned.

   Time was unmoving amidst the raging flames. Thick smoke plumed into the sky, making her eyes sting. All the silvery warrior could do was hear and feel blindly, no different from a newborn kit. Every gasping breath she took was immediately stolen by the fire, feeding its wrath. The roar of the flames was identical to the blood thundering in her ears.

   But even so, the sound was unmistakable. A pitiful wail.

   The she-cat spun around wildly, gritting her teeth against the pain that seared through her scorched tail. She pricked her ears, straining to hear over the chaos. There it was, again. She let her desperation lead her through the inferno that had once been her home.

   She stopped in front of what used to be a den, now reduced to almost nothing. The stench of death -- of smoldering fur and flesh -- clouded her senses, but she forced herself to go on. The mewls were getting louder.

   The heat pressing onto her from all sides told her that time was running out. She began to push debris away from where the sounds were concentrated. Bits of moss and ferns, once lush, crumbled to ash beneath her touch. Her blistered paw pads screamed at her to stop; she did not.

   Her paws hit something soft. The firelight brought it into flickering focus. She whimpered involuntarily as she recognized the familiar dappled pelt, much like her own.

   The blaze was becoming unbearable. The warrior tore her gaze away from her littermate's still form. She reached into the space the queen's body was still stiffly curled around, dragging out the two tiny kits she knew would be there. Grabbing both their scruffs in her mouth, she backed out of the den and ran back through the flames, willing herself to not stop. She could feel her heart breaking with each pawstep, and somehow, it hurt more than every burn seared into her skin.

   Goodbye.

- ☽ -

   A warm sea breeze meandered through the PebbleClan camp, sending gentle ripples across the surfaces of the tide pools clustered in the center. Beneath the shallow water, a fish darted behind a bright orange sea star, ducking into a clump of seaweed. Crouching at the pool's edge, Myrtlestar watched the tiny commotion, her mind drifting. Her Clan was young, and so was she. Not for the first time, doubt pricked at her mind. Was she really prepared to lead..?

   Her stupor was interrupted by the brush of a fluffy tail against her shoulder. Myrtlestar looked up. Her mood immediately lifted when she came nose-to-nose with her deputy. Despite herself, a purr rose in her throat.

   "Are you having your doubts again?" Sleepymoon inquired as she sat down next to the lone she-cat, the deputy's long-furred smoky cream pelt pressing against Myrtlestar's own shorter silvery fur. Her tone was gentle but knowing.

   Myrtlestar sighed, leaning into Sleepymoon. "Have we gotten too far ahead of ourselves?" she mewed, keeping her voice low. Even the familiar closeness of the other cat could not fully placate her mind. "We're only a fragment of our former Clan. What if we're attacked? How will we find enough fresh-kill? What if--?" She broke off suddenly as she realized her voice was rapidly rising in volume. Hollowly, she watched her kits scamper around the clearing.

   "Maybe we will fail," her deputy meowed softly, filling the sudden silence. Myrtlestar glanced at her in surprise, feeling hurt at the admission. Sleepymoon tilted her elegant head to the side. "Oh, don't look at me like that. It's true. There is no shame in saying it plainly. Even for well-established Clans, there is always a possibility of failure. RockClan made that clear. But listen to me for a second, okay?" She paused to give Myrtlestar's muzzle a swift lick. "We are safe here, surrounded by the sea. We have a medicine cat, two capable warriors, that stubborn apprentice of mine, and kits who will become 'paws in only a few moons. Not to mention an elder to guide us and keep us grounded. We may be lacking in numbers, but we are still complete."

   They were both quiet for several long moments. As she pondered, Myrtlestar's ears bathed in the sounds of the minutiae of Clan life. A soft chuckle from one of the warriors; the squabbling of the kits; the soothing crash of waves washing onto the shore; the warmth and solidity of Sleepymoon against her body. She turned the she-cat's words over in her head.

   Well, when she puts it that way... Myrtlestar flicked her ears uncomfortably, feeling suddenly ashamed of herself for having underestimated her Clan. Her deputy was right. No role was unfilled thus far. That was more fortune than a new Clan could dare to hope for.

   She lifted her muzzle, a fresh wave of determination washing over her. "I understand now," she meowed, her voice clear. When she looked at Sleepymoon again, she saw pride and open affection in those dazzling emerald eyes. "I will not throw away the beautiful life we're making for ourselves here," Myrtlestar continued. "With you by my side, I think we'll be just fine."

   Sleepymoon purred, the sound rumbling from deep in her chest and echoing the crest and fall of the ocean waves. "I know we'll be just fine, darling."

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