His throat tightened at the sight of her, caught between a cry and a growl. Her passing was still too fresh for him to process but he did know it hurt and it was his fault and it was her faith that made him leave in the first place. He couldn’t decide if he was angry with her or himself or just broken over her loss and he just stared at her with a mournful half gaze until the ceremony began, and he sucked in a breath.

Faith. He let out a shaky laugh. She still had faith in him after all this time? But of course she did; of course she knew just the right life for her to give him. She had always known him best. Chim closed his eye as they touched and murmured a soft ”i’m sorry, i’m sorry, but for you i’ll try,” before she pulled away.

He watched her go with a pleading expression, suddenly fearful he might never see her again. He took a step toward her and then stopped as a starry cat shook their head at him, and his shoulders slackened, head lowering a fraction as his ears fell back. There was so much he needed to say and no words he could say it with, so his gaze tangled with indecipherable emotion as he locked onto the leader, then took a deep shaky breath and forced himself to turn away.

One life down. He could do this. Already he could feel the buzz of live energy beneath his skin, like he could run a thousand miles and never tire, and a warm glow starting to spread through his mind as faith bolstered his confidence. The high would end, he was sure, but it left him the strength and eagerness to take the next life, wherever it may come from.

Honeystorm

It hurt to see her too, the fresh grief of his loss hitting him hard, but it was offset but how, well, happy she looked. This was the mother he remembered and loved, the proud leader that could raise a family as well as a clan, who could look after herself easily but didn’t mind spending time with friends and family to unwind. He had always wondered how well he really knew her then, when he was young, but the warmth in her smile reassured him.

And hope— another life, another burst of warm energy that filled him up inside, even as it raged and burned and licked at his skin like hungry flames. He grit his teeth to bear it, and slowly it faded to a warmth inside of him, and he wondered if it was the aftereffects of the fire or if this was what hope felt like.

“I’ll— I’ll do my best to follow in your footsteps, and be half the leader you were,” he murmured with a tiny dip of his head.

Honeystorm GidgetGal

He eyed his father warily as he approached - uncertain as ever of the father he had never really known. They had gotten along, but it had been tense and awkward; every time he saw Lightningswift he was reminded of all the things he wasn't. Their fur was the same, but nothing else, nothing that mattered. His father was handsome and brave and respected and loved, he knew when to joke and when to be serious, and Chim had never felt love as powerful as he'd seen his parents share. He had wanted to be him so desperately when he was younger, had wanted to please his father by continuing his legacy, but he'd thrown away his every chance, so he pretended it never mattered. It was too late, now, to admit he'd been wrong to push his family away, too late to wonder if he'd been wrong all along about what would make Lightningswift happy.

His ear twitched back, uncomfortable that his thoughts had been guessed so accurately; but blood had always meant everything to them, it was their proud bloodline that had shaped this clan for generations and led it to greatness. They were born leaders, but not him, never him, why couldn't anyone grasp that? He nearly cried out in frustration, but then he felt his father's touch and let his breath go. It wasn't just life coursing through him now, he could feel the honor, and his father's pride, a love so certain that he regretted ever doubting it.

"Dad," he whispered, choking, unable to say more.

He... he knew she would be here. He had refused to look for her when he opened his eyes to the stars, he wasn't ready to see her again. He loved his parents fiercely and their deaths were still raw, but he had always known they would likely die before he did; it hurt to lose his leader as well, but though she had meant a lot to him, they hadn't known each other for long and she hadn't been kin. He could bear their losses, just barely, but he could look them in the eye.

But this was his sister.

His sister, who had never given up on him, even when he hurt her, even when he lashed out in anger she was his mentor. She'd broken him down and taught him everything he knew, everything that was good in him. He had wanted to impress her that day he stole away from their territory with his friends, ventured to a foreign clan to feed their starving clan; wanted to prove that he was grateful for what he'd learned and would never, ever, betray her or his clan. He couldn't stand to look at her, not when he was already so weak, but finally he lifted his half-gaze to hers.

He doubted anything could hurt more than seeing her here-- but he was naive, and the full force of a mother's love seared him like never before. It wasn't the love he'd felt for his own kits, it was a thousand times fiercer and it lasted an eternity, rich and brilliant and indescribably agonizing. When she pulled away he staggered and collapsed against her, his legs weak and trembling as he fought to hold himself up.

"I always kept your secret, you know," he mumbled, with a shaky little laugh, because here she was talking about her kits and all he could think of was their first training session. "I never-- I never told Dad." She'd told him bout her secret scar all those moons ago and the fool he was, he'd never forgotten her scar, even once he was certain everyone else knew.

His breath was ragged as he pulled away from his sister, and he was relieved when he didn't immediately recognize the next cat to step forward. He needed to catch his breath, recover a little before he fell apart. Listening to her story, though, he quickly guessed who she was: he'd heard about her before, many times, this legend. He didn't know how to feel, honored or horrified, that she had sought him out to give a life, she had been a medicine cat and yet she'd also left the clan and lost herself. But her life sounded genuinely, so tentatively he leaned forward to receive it.

His ears pinned back and his head bent forward against the wind and he began to twitch at nibbling in his fur, his claws flexing with the urgent need to scratch and knock it away, but he knew he could not pull away from the starry cat. He grunted at the sensation of his skin, his self, crumbling away into nothing -- and then he it was gone, and he panted with relief. His gaze lifted again and widened at the darkness creeping in her shadow.

"There's a--- behind you---" he started, then stopped, shook his head. "Thank you."

He closed his eyes to clear them of the strange shadow, then opened them when he heard a young voice. His chest seared with grief as he opened his eye again and met the apprentice's gaze, wishing all over again he could have lived, just a little longer. Once he thought Breezepaw was destined to be his cousin's mate, and he would have loved to have him as family; he had grown to love the little cat, and he had made Squirrelpool happy, so much happier than she was after Smokeynight. He sucked in a breath at the gut punch of the life but rode it out, waiting until the tension inevitably eased and let him at peace. Chim rumbled, low and affectionate, as he cuffed Breezepaw over the ear.

"You better be practicing your hunting up there or I won't be so patient next time we meet," he warned, proud, but with a glint of tears in his eye. He stepped back and let Breezepaw leave with a little sigh.


Silent paws approached from behind, and his breath froze in his throat as a familiar warmth leaned against his side. He didn’t have to look to see who it was— he knew, and a low purr rumbled in his throat as Chimerahunt leaned against his former mate. Ghosttoad nuzzled him and he savored every second of the old tom’s touch; then the starry warrior pulled away Chim could drink him in fully. He looked much the same as he had in life: his long, soft dark fur was sleek and clean, his whiskers and back were shorn with white from age, he was muscular and filled out, and his soft eyes radiated warmth. They were different, imperceptibly, besides the starlight, and as the deputy anxiously scanned him he found his answer. Ghost’s eyes were different, because the shadow of grief that tinged them was gone— the servant had made peace with the crime done to him all those moons ago, had satisfied his revenge or moved on, Chim didn’t care which.

“I told you I’d see you again,” the butler murmured with a laugh as he rested his forehead against Chim’s. His breath hitched as their eyes met and the StarClan tom went on. “With this life, I give you happiness,” he began, his voice suddenly intense and passionate. The outline of a toad shimmered between his white paws. “You have suffered in the past and you will suffer in the future, but you
must look past and remember the good in your life. Smile and laugh, and listen to your clanmates— they just want to help. Don’t let your grief cloud your judgement; take a gamble and do what’s right for you.”

The life flooded the future leader with boundless energy and a tide that tugged his lips to smile despite the sweet agony of seeing his mate again, a high indomitable joy that refused to bow to fear. As quickly as it came, it was gone, but it left a lingering warmth simmering in his gut, like an untapped reserve just waiting for him to find the courage to move on.

Finally Ghosttoad sighed, ragged and low, and slowly broke contact. He stepped away and took another deep breath to gather himself, then gave his former mate a slight nod. Chimerahunt hadn’t said a word to him, but he understood; he felt the unanswered cries in the tom’s throat and blinked at him reassuringly as he retreated. There would be time for talking, one day.

He looked up at his sister, surprised to see her. It had been a long time and he hadn’t expected to see Dewleaf. He knew she had died, her kits told him, but it had slipped his mind. “Sister,” he responded with a slight nervous smile. He was glad to see her.