Usually, Adderheart and Pantherleap would have been able to sleep for a while longer.

Perhaps they could've caught a few more hours, up until the later hours of night, so it was simply passed as a dawn patrol when they went out again together.

But not everything went to plan.

A thick white pelt pushed into the warrior's den, light spilling upon her fur from outside. Unfortunately, it was Streamfang. Unfortunately only for Adderheart, really, for Pantherleap held no issues with her. It was just about sunset, with the sun delicately inching lower and lower into the darkening sky.

"Adderheart?" Streamfang's voice broke him from his slumber.

The tom scrambled upward, accidentally kicking Pantherleap in his foreleg. Instantly, his mind whipped to life, thinking of ideas as to why he had just been laying in the shadows. In the mess of thoughts, he hoped that she'd not seen Pantherleap. That would be harder to explain.

Streamfang is observant, I know that, so if I get out of the den then she'll be suspicious of why I was inside of here in the first place. But if I stay then Pantherleap risks being caught. She'll know that I was with him. Then what will she do?

Milkfrost and Vixenfeather's memory bobbed within his mind and a flame of terror sparked within him.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, gaze sharpening.

"Sleeping. Not anymore," he commented, walking away with a large sweep of his tail. If I draw her away...

"Why were you sleeping?" She pressed, tail tip flicking as her dark amber gaze trailed him.

"I was tired...?" He tipped his head, for Adderheart had padded a little toward his nest.

Her eyes narrowed. "This early?"

He rolled his eyes, knowing that he couldn't tell the she-cat of their many excursions over the past day or so, and besides, it wasn't like she would understand. Now, he couldn't challenge her to speak to Cougarstar, for it was guaranteed he'd be furious if he'd heard of him and Pantherleap, or just him, sleeping at unreasonable times...

So then what was he meant to do?

Frustration surged within him. Why was she being so unreasonable? If she hadn't of been so rude in the first place then he wouldn't be so stuck...

"Yes, just..." His ears pricked suddenly. "Willowdapple, okay? I was worried about Willowdapple."

Streamfang scoffed. "Yeah, and her kits aren't due soon, so—"

"No, I think she had them... them earlier. Earlier today," Adderheart interrupted, head shaking a little bit. "I was worried about her. She was... in a lot of pain. And I didn't want to be awake... for her kitting. I wasn't allowed to be around for it, the healers kicked me out after I had brought her something to eat."

Her muzzle quirked absently, as if she were to say something, but decided against it.

"So? What?" Adderheart prompted, nervousness smoldering within his creamy figure. He was hyper aware of the light and soft breathing of Pantherleap. It seemed to fill the den with a pleasant lull.

"You're the father, then?" She turned, turning a hostile gaze on him. "Why didn't you say anything? How come you're actually incompetent to the point of not insinuating it even a little bit? She's been harrassed for her decision about not telling and here you are, letting it all happen. What, did you have a fight? I knew it. I knew it! I knew you had to be the father, or maybe it had to have been Pantherleap—"

He wanted to vomit.

"What?! No! I'm not the father to those kits! She's just a nice cat. You should know that, if you're her friend!" Adderheart's tail lashed as he whipped to face the she-cat, dark gray gaze sparking with outrage. "How dare you assume that I can't be concerned about the Clan's only queen, and not only that, but the only she-cat who is likely going to have kits in a while—"

Streamfang stomped a paw, tail whipping harshly in the air behind him. "You're such a liar! I just— Adderheart, you're the father to those kits. Don't lie to me."

The she-cat had approached him in a rather dramatic fashion, amber eyes an inferno of fury as she stared him down. She'd even unsheathed her claws and slowly she lifted a paw, as if to threaten to bring it down upon him. Blood roared within Adderheart's ears. It seemed to block out everything else that was happening in the den.

Memories of the two elders once more stirred within his mind, and he was quick to push them down. This was a mirror of that moment, except that it wasn't two elders and a leader... instead with two warriors. And the one that was younger was bothering the older one.

And nobody loved each other.

The she-cat cornered him to the wall, pressing a claw down on his paw, and he flinched, eyes sparking with pain. Her other paw lifted delicately to his throat, ensuring that it didn't shake with careful precision.

"Tell me."

However, in the momentary pause that occurred, a sharp, commanding tone filled the den.

"Mind explaining what's going on, Streamfang?"

Pantherleap?

A large tawny pelt barrelled mercilessly into the she-cat, and within moments, her thick white pelt was pinned beneath Pantherleap's broad-shouldered stature. His movements were forceful and sharp as he stood above the she-cat. However, he didn't seem angry, simply confused. At least, Adderheart couldn't see anger in his gaze. Perhaps he was hiding it extremely well...

How did he get in here?

"He's the father... to Willowdapple's litter!" The she-cat's tone was accusatory. It appeared to have passed the point of anger, ranging to fury. "He didn't tell anyone!" Her thick white pelt was puffed up, bristling furiously as if to expel some of the rage that she felt curdling within her being.

"No, he's not," responded Pantherleap and a strange spark lit in Adderheart's chest. "He was in good standings while she originally was discovered as pregnant, so why would it need to be kept a secret?"

She stopped, and then she spluttered, "I... well, maybe he was just uncomfortable with the idea that he was going to be a father or something! I know he is! And if he's not, you are!"

Pantherleap dropped down to be practically laying upon the she-cat and she hissed furiously at him, muzzle and lips drawing back in the beginnings of a nasty snarl.

"Adderheart is not the father, and nor am I."

Pantherleap's voice was deathly low, green gaze ablaze. It was a shiny, sharp, tawny knife cutting and slicing mercilessly through the soft, thick, white fabrics of Streamfang's idiotic ideas.

"If you speak of this, then I will be sure to speak of your little outburst."

"Nobody will care," she hissed, "Adderheart is nothing to Cougarstar."

"And neither are you to me," he answered simply, "but I can most certainly portray it against you. And Cougarstar will not care to listen to your side of the story. I'm sure I'd know him better than you." The tom stood up, casting a glare at Adderheart. "I would've hoped this could go without saying, but, don't speak of this. Now," he continued, looking to Streamfang. "Out."

The she-cat rose, straightening her shoulders, and she sent a heavy and furious glare in Adderheart's direction, who stood unflinching. He didn't allow his gaze to be rude or sharp. Instead, the warrior resolved it to be simple, basic, usual. Nothing out of the ordinary. It couldn't be rude. Otherwise, she'd hate him more for no reason.

She huffed and stalked out of the den.

Immediately, Pantherleap swerved to Adderheart, lifting a paw to poke a bit at his neck, parting the fur upon him. The pale-furred senior warrior jumped a bit, surprised by the touch, though he allowed it to happen, the tips of his ears warming.

He was concerned about me.

"Did she get you, or?" The warrior glanced upward, head tipping.

"No, no... she didn't get me. How did you get out of the den without us noticing?" Adderheart questioned, shaking the other tom off. He was fine, after all, just... frightened. A little. Not really.

"It's easy to escape when nobody is paying attention," Pantherleap commented, a light smile quirking the edges of his muzzle. He seemed to pause, ears twitching. "But is she right? Are you the father?"

"No. No. No, never, I... no, I'm not." Adderheart nodded firmly, dark gray gaze sparking a little. "One of the least backed up ideas in the world. There's no reason for me not to be worried over Willowdapple and her litter, considering I was the first around for her to start being in pain."

"Cats don't care in this Clan, Adderheart," chided the tom. "Most wouldn't care too much about Willowdapple or her litter, so it painted you in the light of a father's concern."

His muzzle twisted into a frown. "That's not fair. And why would I clearly tell her that if I wanted the whole thing to be a secret... Are we not allowed to feel concern for others?"

Pantherleap simply blinked, whiskers twitching indifferently. "Her opinions were most certainly not back up."

"So then why didn't she see that?" He asked.

"She's not the smartest, apparently. Just goes off assumptions, I suppose," he mewed with a light shrug.

Adderheart's muzzle deepened further, eyes sparking. "That's not fair. To me. Or to anyone."

"SageClan is not fair. I thought you knew that by now."

"I do," insisted Adderheart. "I do, I do. But some of the things that some cats within this Clan deem fair aren't."

Pantherleap's shoulders bobbed in another shrug. "Nothing we can do about that."

"Not with that attitude!" Adderheart responded, frustrated. How come he didn't want to do anything?

Pantherleap turned to the warrior, eyes sharpening. "So what are you suggesting we do? Take over the Clan? Fix the rules? How?"

Adderheart fell silent. Frustration surged further within him like a wave, foam-tipped edges contorting to reddish-pink fury. How come there was no solution for this clear issue and how come Pantherleap seemed resolved to living within this world?

"So?" Pantherleap prompted.

Adderheart turned away, tail lashing.

"There isn't anything we can do, Adderheart." His voice seemed to soften a little and he padded up behind the tom, shuffling to stand in front of him. Consequently, this squeezed the tawny tom between the wall of the den and Adderheart, which looked uncomfortable.

Adderheart's muzzle, which had momentarily shifted to a neutral line, morphed to a light frown, deepening quickly to be a rather sharp and low irritated expression. His eyes sparked and he looked away, tail flicking in somewhat of a dismissive manner.

"Never mind, Pantherleap. Never mind." He shook his head sharply, padding back toward his nest. Though, he stopped himself and padded back out of the den. He looked over his shoulder and spotted Pantherleap just... standing there.

The tawny tom exited the den with a harsh push past Adderheart and exited camp swiftly.

Adderheart simply trotted rather swiftly toward the edge of the clearing. Considering that it had been sunset earlier, it was reasonable to him that he did not see a sun within the sky. Instead, a blanket of darkness replaced it, and it was insufferably heavy upon the early leaf-fall sky. A chilly wind skipped and twirled around the camp.

There wasn't any sort of warmth accompanying the breeze. Instead, the sharp and angry words of an early leaf-bare complimented the snapping tone of an on-time leaf-fall. It seemed to dance throughout the clearing, offering a few words of revolution to the grasses and thistles all twined together within the camp's wall.

The pale tom seemed to curl up tighter against the wall. It wasn't usual that any warrior would be awake at this time, and with a little sniffle, he realized he seemed to end up in this sort of place a lot.

With nobody to speak to, nobody to chat with, nothing to eat, for there was no way he was about to pad carefully over to the fresh-kill pile after supposedly being in the den all day. He hoped that Streamfang had simply left the camp to do some hunting.

It would not be in his interests to see her again. For a while...

Absently a thought of Willowdapple crossed his mind. It was fleeting, like the rest of the thoughts that just so happened to enter his head. He briefly contemplated speaking or greeting her, as from what he could tell, her birthing appeared to be over. He did not see either of the healers around the clearing.

Obviously... because they were likely sleeping. At least, he assumed that Coalbelly was sleeping. Maybe Twilightcloud had stuck around a moment or two longer to ensure that Willowdapple had slept well, or maybe she had even slept with her.

Doubtful.

Otherwise, they might think she's the father.

He muffled a snicker and he laid his head on his paws, blinking a pair of dark gray eyes that he quickly covered. His tail flicked sharply around his form since it had drifted absently when he had gotten lost within his thoughts.

Soon enough, he'd submerged in them again.

Is Pantherleap really willing to just lay down and do nothing to fight against this Clan?

The warrior's words echoed back to him. It seemed like it. But in reality, the tom was right. What could they do? Try and stage an uprising within SageClan's ranks? Who would actually listen to it?

He could always try and convert some of the most strictly-loyal cats... because if he got through to them, then he could get through to all their friends, and it would, unfortunately, be a game of spider-web by then.

Spider-web was a game that kits adored playing. It was likely one of their very favorite games, one of the hidden gems among the tons and tons of games played. He recalled playing it once, yet the memories of it were mostly foggy.

In order to play correctly, there had to be a set of five or more kits, so sometimes apprentices had to join in. It was unlikely that the game was ever played within the camp. Instead, queens ushered their kits inside in order to hide the game from the brash warriors and leader of the Clan.

A queen or an older apprentice was chosen to be the overseer of the game. This overseer had to think of a special sentence, or a set of words, that the kits knew very well. Sometimes, it would be something like "I see the warriors are back from patrol!" yet other times it ended up being "Your sister shredded the mossball and ruined Mother's day!" and those times, everyone would rear back from laughing too hard because of the trueness of the events.

Regardless of the sentence chosen, this overseer would first share the sentence or words to a specific kit, usually one that the overseer liked more than the others. Perhaps this created a sense of friendship between the two, but it didn't matter, for now, the game began.

The first kit who had been told the sentence had to say the first two words with their eyes closed, and from there the other kits had to guess what the next word was. Once someone guessed it, the first kit had to guess who that kit was, and whoever they guessed now had to pose as the first kit... but without knowing what the actual sentence was. Now, after this point, a queen usually stepped in to stop everyone from arguing.

Since the kits were so intent on figuring out what it was, the game was eventually altered slightly. Originally, the cycle was meant to continue until it was guessed. However, the kits, ever rowdy, claimed that it should instead be that each time an incorrect guess was said, a word of the actual sentence must've been hinted to, but only to the kits who had guessed correctly.

From there, it was essentially a guessing game. The original kit knew the true intent or meaning of what was said, and the kits following them knew little pieces and bits of it.

That would be a near replica of what would occur with an uprising, he knew.

Well, except that there was no overseer, and that there was a high probability that someone would end up spilling it to Cougarstar. And from there, everyone within the Clan was most certainly doomed to all sorts of terrors.

Adderheart's tail thumped with frustration against the ground. A shadow crossed his vision and he flinched, shifting back into the thorns and thistles of the camp's wall. However, nothing appeared. All that was around were the shadows and the gloom of a dark and chilly night.

And of course, the careful moon rose into the sky, shiny and bright within the gloom of an early leaf-fall night. He was used to it by now, for he appeared to be the last one up again. The moon was smiling down upon him, polite and serious.

However, tiredness, though dull, seemed to prickle through his form. He knew he had been asleep for a little bit earlier, yet the tom presumed that nobody would have to know about that.

Absently, he wondered where Pantherleap was, and surprisingly, a spark of irritation bubbled within him.

He's not doing anything to fight against the unfairness.

It still bothered him, at least a little bit, that the other tom was just going to... accept it. Accept that SageClan was just going to be this way, with idiotic ideas flowing freely from their stupid muzzles with no thought behind it. And how come he'd barely shown a scrap of feeling about the entire thing with Streamfang?

The light-furred warrior rose to his paws, and with careful movements, slipped toward the warrior's den. Irritation still bubbled within him but he pushed it down, wanting it to go away. Adderheart entered the den, critically moving as to not alert anyone of his presence.

He settled into his nest, and a cold silence surrounded him. The rest of the cats in the den slept soundly, ears flicking and paws twitching as if they had all been submerged within a dream.

Eventually, he laid his head upon his paws and settled down closer to the ground. Soon after, he slipped into a delicate slumber, tail pulling tightly around him as he fell asleep.