What if Mapleshade's kits lived

Epilogue

An owl screeched high from above, somewhere in the void of the night. The newly named, Shyheart had expected that to jerk her right awake. Kind of wishing it did. Yet, the doziness continued to blur her vision. Pricking her ears, she made out the muffled heavy breathing and snoring of her slumbering clanmates, tucked away in their comfy dens. While she was stuck out outside, expected to last without a moment of rest. Her littermates had gotten their names a whole two and half moons before her, because apparently, she wasn't 'mature' enough back then. Now they could sleep to their heart's content. Luckily furballs.

Despite the sun shrinking below horizon ages ago, the air was still humid and stuffy, late Greenleaf not being kind to them. Letting off a gaping yawn, she shuffled around on the sandy spot, crouched at the camp entrance. Every blade of grass and drop of water was tinted in the pale moonlight, the whole landscape glowing a frosty silver. Eying the calm shimmering water, Shyheart wondering if she gets away with a quick midnight paddle. Maybe it would wake her up a bit. Though decided it wasn't worth the risk.

The soft sound of paws against sand caught her attention, as two cats crossed the clearing for a late-night hunt.  Willownose and Splashstar were chasing each other around like apprentices,  purring like mad. Shyheart eyes them suspiciously. Those two had seemed to be getting awfully close recently. 

Shyheart gave them a funny look, ear twitching. Her sister gave Shyheart a nervous glance, hot with embarrassment. With a playful sigh, Shyheart shuffled aside to let the lovebirds out, into the wide territory beyond. "Have fun you two.", Shyheart cheered joyfully, as they disappeared into the gloom of the tunnel. From somewhere beyond the thick walls, she made out Splashstar's late reply, in a mocking voice, "No talking remember!".

With a huff, Shyheart flopped back onto the floor. Telling her not to talk, was like telling a mole not to dig, it was borderline impossible.

The sun still nowhere in sight. This was going to be a very long night. Reluctantly, she continued to sit vigil. Trying to keep her senses sharp. Annoyingly, her focus wasn't enough, her eyes and mind beginning to wonder. Her parents' furious arguments still ringing in her ears from the half moon before.

Ever since her father's return from exile, just after her birth, he'd always been unfocused. On patrols, he'd constantly gazed out into the wide-open world beyond the borders, longingly. Whenever, they'd passed the Gorge River, he'd always subtly flinch, clearing thinking of his precious mate, Mapleshade, if she remembered correctly - the mother of her half-siblings, including Patchleaf. She always wondered if Patchleaf felt he truly belonged in Riverclan, with his old family either living away or deceased. Shyheart hoped she was doing enough to support him. 

Naturally, she began to wonder about her other half-brother, Larchcloud. Where was he now? It had come to a shock to all of them, when he finally snapped under the constant torment of Shadowclan for his murderous mother. Lashing out against the last two cats that said a bad word against him, two young apprentices, neither of them surviving. Larchcloud had just been unable to escape his violent influences as a young kit. The whole litter had more trauma in their kittenhood than any cat should experience. his Ever since then, he'd been a minor nuisance to all the Clans, until disappearing for good. There is no new sightings of him for a quite a while now. Hopefully, he'd settled somewhere and led a better life. Maybe with their sister, Petal.

That had seemed to the final straw for her parents. Honestly, Shyheart was surprised it hadn't happened earlier. Maybe her mother being too tolerant for her own good. Just as the first few grey flakes of old age appeared on her nuzzle, at last Reedshine confronted her distracted mate, unable to stand him behaviour any more. The two of them splitting up quite recently, shaking up her entire kin. Starting to wonder, if that's why her warrior name had to be displayed. Too caught up in the family drama.

Unable to fight it, her head turned light and floppy, shrinking into the depths of her chest fur. Eventually, the battle between as wakefulness and tiredness was lost, as her vision and hearing continued to blur, sleep consuming her.

Suddenly, Shyheart was eerily aware that something wasn't right. While her eyes were still closed, the world seemed to shift, almost stretching outwards. Before she knew it, weightlessness came over her, as if a feather floating down gently in a breeze. Then ground formed under her again. The texture of crusty, cracked sand melted away, to be replaced with solid, musty and damp mud.

Abruptly, Shyheart's head snapped back, alarmed to find where she was. Instantly, Shyheart was on her paws, frantically searching the pure black landscape, vast and empty. Instead of the woven reeds and sandy hollow of Riverclan camp, she saw something else entirely, surrounding her on all sides. Trees, unspeakably tall, reached up into the sky. With thick claw-like branches, so high, it was impossible to make out what lay beyond the canopy. Putting the pines of Shadowclan to utter shame. The pale moonlight that once set alight the landscape, was now replaced by a sickly green glow, radiating from slimy mushrooms, that coiled around trees and logs, like snakes.

Yet somehow, the limelight was nothing compared to the thick darkness that still managed to fester from every crack and burrow, the green glow unable to even pierce it. Shadows cast were unnaturally long and slender, their edges sharp. The darkness was so dense, it had it's own texture, like a purple fog, suffocating. Thin ghostly vapour, glided over the doggy ground, twisting, curling and turning in on itself, as if it was in pain. Snaking up her legs as if white spider talons were trying to drag her down into the dead earth. The overpowering odour of rotting flesh and plant decay made Shyheart want to be sick.

There was no blast of gales or gentle blowing of breezes. Instead, there was only a bellowing silence, echoing among the branches. It hangover her like a haunting force, constantly keeping her on edge, never allowing her to slip into relaxation. The silence continued to drone, like ill hog trying to breathe. It tempted to form into dreading whispers, nipping at her ears, yet failed to create words, only able to groan and moan.

How was this possible? She'd just nodded off for a heartbeat. How could she end up in an entirely different territory?

Then, her tail spiked up. Shrivelled ferns rustled as a cat stalked out from the layer of grimy undergrowth. With a dull tortoiseshell she-cat, ragged and old, crept towards her. Flinching, when she realized they weren't alone, a second cat stepping out from behind the fierce she-cat, a mottled sturdy tom, with spiky dark fur. A gasp of horror escaped Shyheart's open mouth. Larchcloud. The determined fire in his amber eyes now extinguished, only bleakness and hopelessness left.

Now the mysterious she-cat now stood directly in front of her, Shyheart too speechless to threaten or warn her to back off. A marvellous grin come over the rouge's face, "It's been a long time, Shyheart.", Mapleshade greeted.