Rainstar's Burden

Decisions, Decisions, All of Them Causing Lots of Anxiety

Rainbur had less than a split-second to enter the camp after Mossflake before he was bombarded with questions, congratulations, and general cheering.

He guessed he should be relieved that they were so welcoming of the idea of him leading them, but he wasn't sure if they wouldn't react the same way to everyone, to finally have someone to lead them. Besides, leading meant more stress to look forward to.

He thanked his Clanmates, making short conversation, before they finally backed down and he was able to think. First stress that should probably be addressed: his deputy.

He gazed around the camp, thinking hard. His first thought was to not have anyone who was connected to their previous leader, and his second was realizing that that was impossible. Mossflake's kit was killed because of him, Silverwhisker's sister too, Runningcloud's apprentice–and he was the apprentice to Alderstar, and Hollyclaw was his sister....

He supposed it was unfair anyway. It wasn't that he didn't trust him, he just thought it would be easier to move on from a murderous leader by having someone who doesn't in some way remind the Clan of the blood that had been spilled. But that couldn't happen. The damage had extended too far.

So then, who would fit best? Stars, how should he know? He's never been deputy! Was it better to pick the best first or rule out the bad options? Or think of the goods and bads of each? Yeah, he'll do that.

Mossflake. Very kind and understanding. She definitely proved that just now. She has a soft spot for the young ones. Would that and her mate becoming a medicine cat make her less likely to send them into battle when they're old enough? It would be especially hard after Fernpaw's death. He decided against it when he remembered how ruffled she had been. She needs rest now.

Runningcloud was proud and would lead Shadowclan into a bright light–something they desperately need–but he was also quick to anger, often willing to fight to protect his pride. And, Rainbur thought, recalling their patrol, quick to unsubstantiated conclusions.

He continued to think, think, think. He didn't realize that his brows had furrowed in concentration until Silverwhisker padded up with a mock copying expression on her face. "Thinking about your deputy?"

Rainbur nodded. "There are so many things to consider! What does the Clan need? What might the Clan need in the future? Who can provide these?"

"Sounds like three questions to me."

Rainbur frowned at her. "Okay, smarty-tail, you try it."

"Well," Silverwhisker said, "someone who's more of a protector than a war-wagerer. Battles are fought only when they need to be. I don't want my kits dying in pointless fights."

Rainbur pricked his ears. "You plan on having kits?"

"Uh. We better be. I'm expecting them now."

Rainbur sat still for a few, long heartbeats as the words and their meaning sank in. Then he leaped on his paws with more energy than he'd ever felt in the last moon. "That's wonderful!" he bumped his head against hers. "When should I be expecting the little ones to wander around the camp?"

Silverwhisker laughed. "We're not that far."

"And the father? Other mother?"

"Runningcloud?" Silverwhisker said it as a question. "Haven't you noticed? We've been mates for moons!"

"Really?" Rainbur looked back, and now remembered how often the two shared prey, went on hunts or patrols, shared tongues. He wondered regrettably if it was because he was too caught up in Dawnmoth that he hadn't paid enough attention to Silverwhisker.

Silverwhisker didn't seem upset. "If you didn't notice him following me around like a hawk, maybe you do need help picking a deputy. But it looks like you should be going now."

"What?" Rainbur gazed around, and saw for the first time that dusk was setting in, casting the camp in a purple glow. Has he really been sitting here all day, doing nothing but think? Stuck in surprise, he still didn't move until Silverwhisker nudged him.

"Do you want to come with me?" Rainbur asked. When Silverwhisker looked pointedly at her belly, he said, "right. Kits."

For the first time, it dawned on him that he would be traveling very far, on the trail likely taken many times by Alderstar and Myrtlewing, who were very much still out there. Images of the bodies they had dug up filled his head–riddled with bugs, skin sinking in, open wounds showing signs of leakage. He didn't want that to happen to him. He didn't want to be killed and buried and rotting away where no one could find him. He thought of Silverwhisker's news. He didn't want that to be happening to her or those kits, either. Shadowclan needed a new leader. Now.

He shook his head, and padded to Cedarsky. "As Shadowclan's future leader and medicine cat–" he tried to keep the worry from his voice– "care to accompany me to the Moonstone?"

Cedarsky's eyes rounded. "Am I allowed? Nevermind," he quickly added before Rainbur could answer. "Yes, yes, of course!"

"We should take someone else too, to be safe. Russetnose!" He knew the she-cat still felt guilty for Hootpetal's departure. Maybe actually getting to bring the leader back to camp this time would make her feel better. "Want to be the first to see me after I get my nine lives?"

While Russetnose responded with a happy 'sure!' and they moved to pad from the camp, followed by good-lucks, his throat dried as though sand had been thrown down his mouth, and his heart sped faster than a panicking hare. They both felt as if they were going to kill him, and he wasn't sure which would get to it first.

Nine lives. He had uttered it absently, to say something joyful to make their journey seem as much of a lighthearted occasion as possible. Now the utterance repeated over and over in his head, and there was no way to deny the truth, particularly not now when they were heading through the territory and to the Moonstone. To the Moonstone.

To the Moonstone where he was going to receive nine lives from Starclan.

Stars, it was only supposed to be a hunting patrol.