The Darkest Moons (Warrior Cats)

43. Good Friends

     The warmth of Scorchpaw’s nest refused to let up. He felt nothing but comfort there, nestled into moss and feathers. He did his best to ignore the paw that prodded him, burying his muzzle into his fur. He imagined he was in a cloud. 
     “Get up, you pile of foxdung,” the voice finally hissed. Scorchpaw groaned and looked up, blinking groggily at Palepaw. “You have to go check if Poppy is out there.” 
     Poppy. Four days had gone by since Blackstar had explained the plan to Briarstar. Each night after that, Scorchpaw had sat by the border, hoping to see his friend. She never came. 
     “Fine,” Scorchpaw groaned, pushing himself up. He gave himself a quick wash, cleaning the moss from his fur, and stretched, yawning. He looked over Palepaw at the other sleeping form in the den. Sandfur slept there as a guest. 
     The Clan had shown mixed reactions. While some were eager to take the fight to the rogues and finally drive them off, others showed uncertain over the alliance with Poppy. Helen had vouched for her, which won over cats like Rainfall and Goldstreak. Cats like Froststrike and Patchback were not pleased.  
     Scorchpaw didn’t care about them though. What mattered to him was winning the battle and keeping Poppy safe. In the meantime of preparing himself for the upcoming fight, he did his best to try and help Sandfur adjust. He also made attempts to rekindle his friendship with Palepaw. The latter was not going well. 
     And so Scorchpaw left his den and strode across camp, saying a swift hello to his father as he guarded the entrance. There was a hint of emotion in the warrior’s eyes. “Scorchpaw,” He said, causing the apprentice to stop. “I’m proud of you.” 
     Scorchpaw’s face burned under his fur. “Thank you,” he replied. He rarely earned praise from his Stormstripe, who had always been busy and distant. “I’m trying.” 
     “You’ll be a fine warrior. Maybe even a leader one day,” Stormstripe added. “You’re certainly brave.” 
     “Like I said, I’m trying,” Scorchpaw repeated. Otherwise, he was at a loss for words. “I- I have to go find Poppy.” 
     Stormstripe moved away from the tunnel, granting access to the outside world. Scorchpaw hurried past, awkward under the cat’s gaze. A leader. The thought made him queasy. I couldn’t lead a kit to their nest. Was that truly what his Clan thought of him? Did they, like his father, have such high expectations? 
     I stumbled into all of this because I was willing to give up a rabbit to a hungry cat. I didn’t search for this kind of responsibility. 
     Yet he couldn’t say that he regretted it. He had made a dear friend amidst the conflict, whom he hoped to find tonight. He had searched every night since the meeting with Briarstar, and he had found nothing. He even strayed over the border. No scent of Poppy lingered there. He even tracked the most fresh scent of Nero’s that he could find, wondering if he had seen her. Nothing had come up. 
     The trip seemed far too short, but Scorchpaw could not deny that he was now at the border. Nothing had changed. He crawled under a holly bush and curled into a ball, watching the shadows in the woods. Everything felt still. The air was filled with silence. 
     Until something moved. Scorchpaw’s ears perked, and he jumped to his paws. He dug his claws into the earth, waiting for whatever stalked the shadows to emerge. 
     Poppy stepped into the moonlight, dragging a hare with her. Scorchpaw rushed out. “You’re okay!” He shouted, and Poppy dropped her catch and bounded forward. 
     “You bet your tufted ears I am!” She chirped, not caring about personal space. She tucked her head under Scorchpaw’s chin and purred loudly, sounding like the rumble of far thunder. 
     “I’ve been here every night for days,” Scorchpaw admitted. 
     Poppy back up, bouncing on her toes. “I had to deal with Fang and keep a low profile. But I’m here now, and I caught a hare.” 
     Scorchpaw followed her to the prey and sat. Poppy took the first bite and nudged it towards him. Forgetting why he was there, Scorchpaw joined in, and in time, the prey was nothing but unwanted scraps. There was a pleasant warmth that formed between the two, flanks joined as they cleaned their muzzles.  
     A flash of yellow made Poppy freeze. Instantly, she was ready to fight, jumping to her paws and flashing her claws. Another yellow light blinked in the distance. Another joined it, and another, each disappearing.  
     Fireflies! Scorchpaw burst out laughing, and Poppy whirled towards him. “What are they?” She asked in distress. “What are you laughing about?” 
     “They’re fireflies! Little bugs whose butts blink yellow,” Scorchpaw explained. “You’ve never seen fireflies? Next you’ll tell me that you haven’t seen a butterfly.” 
     Poppy looked embarrassed, glancing at her paws. “Maybe I haven’t. Or maybe I have.” 
     Scorchpaw gaped at her and ducked under her, lifting her head with his nose. “Come on. You can swat them out of the air. It’s really fun.” Impatiently, he buried the remains of the hare, and soon he was stalking a golden light. The light disappeared, and he strained to see the shape of the tiny insect as it wafted through the air. It blinked again, and he rushed at it, swiping as quickly as he could. He barely felt the impact against his pads. The next time the firefly blinked, it was on the ground, trying to recuperate from the attack. 
     Poppy yelped as one flashed just in front of her face, and Scorchpaw snorted as he laughed at her. She narrowed his eyes, and next thing he knew, she was flying through the air. When she landed, her eyes were wide, and she opened her mouth. A firefly flee out between her teeth.  
     “You should have swallowed it!” Scorchpaw teased. “Then your dirt would glow in the dark.” 
     “That’s disgusting!” Poppy hissed. Scorchpaw shrugged and turned back around, readying himself to chase after another bug. Weight fell on him, and he groaned in defeat as Poppy stood on him. “Admit it! You’re immature.” 
     “You’re the one attacking me,” he retaliated. “And the one who hasn’t seen a firefly.” 
     The weight lifted, and Scorchpaw rolled onto his side and stared up at his friend, who settled beside him. Her eyes reflected the occasional flashes of amber in the woods. For a moment, he imagined that they were like the eyes of StarClan, burning with the light of the moon and sun.  
     I have to protect her after the battle. “Palepaw and I came up with a plan and told it to Blackstar and Briarstar; she’s the leader of FireClan.” 
     “Then tell it to me,” Poppy mewed, crouching down and tucking her paws under her chest. 
     Scorchpaw explained to the best of his ability, telling her every detail he felt necessary. He told her of the safety measures that he had in mind, and of how the Clan would take her in for as long as she wished. Every word had to be dragged out as he watched her eyes for emotion. When he was finished, the two were quiet. The fireflies surrounding them was the only thing reminding him that this was all very real. 
     Poppy didn’t speak, instead getting to her paws and moving beside Scorchpaw. She huddled against his belly and rooted her head under one leg, holding her head against is chest. “Thank you.” 
     Scorchpaw was speechless. He felt clumsy and awkward, as though he would mess up at any moment. “I should get back to camp,” he said. 
     Poppy disconnected and shook her pelt. As though nothing had happened, she dipped her head. “I’ll see you in three days.” 
     “Find me during the battle, okay?” Scorchpaw called as the rogue turned and bounded into the shadows as quickly as she had come. Now, he was alone. 

     Scorchpaw was exhausted when he entered camp. The sun was just beginning to rise, and only Blackstar was awake, sitting on his ledge. When he met the leader’s gaze, Scorchpaw’s shoulders hiked, head lowering. All he wanted was to sleep. 
     Small stones rattled along the rocks and pelted the ground as Blackstar made his way to the earth. Scorchpaw sat and waited until his leader was close before speaking. “I met with Poppy last night. I told her our plan.” 
     Blackstar looked pleased. “Good. I’ll tell Sandfur to go back to his Clan. We’ll be meeting with FireClan at sunrise to prepare.” 
     Scorchpaw slowly bobbed his head. “Can I go to sleep now? I’ve been up most of the night.” 
     “Yes. You deserve it,” Blackstar meowed. Scorchpaw didn’t move, instead only tensing. 
     “Palepaw came up with the plan. He deserves just as much, if not more,” He insisted. When Blackstar didn’t answer, he flattened his ears. “Palepaw’s a loyal cat.” 
     “He met with WaterClan cats, knowing that they’re the enemy.” Blackstar‘s tone was dark. 
     “How is that different from me meeting with Poppy?” Scorchpaw queried.  
     Blackstar gave him a stern look. “WaterClan is willing to abandon the Code, and the ancestors, to drive out a Clan. And when you first began meeting her, you did not know we were enemies.” 
     Scorchpaw lashed his tail. “Palepaw is a good cat,” he hissed, and he stomped towards his den. He’s a good, loyal cat. And he’s my friend.