"What was that?" Maplethorn asked Silentpaw as she was the one to escort her out of MistClan's territory. It was close to sun-up, but Briarwish's second kit was stuck and refused to come out, thus, it died from suffocation. The third kit, a grey tabby tom and fourth, a golden and grey tabby-calico she-kit with a white pelt, were all smooth on their entry into the world.

"I think that both Waspstar and Shadepool fathered her kits," Silentpaw mused, Maplethorn watched as her sister's mind ticked furiously.

"That's possible?" Maplethorn asked, yet didn't say anything more.

"I think so," Silentpaw replied. "It's happened in the past, but that was usually with rogues and loners, however, it could merely be due to the randomness of colouration within her pelts. Regardless, Briarwish is a MistClan cat and you know our values. She was mateless and wanted two cats at once, now she's going to be coveted by no one."

She was a stinking, filthy, mangy liar and rogue, Maplethorn responded internally.

"What do you think will happen to her now?" Maplethorn asked, breaking her promise to herself.

"I'm a medicine cat, I stay neutral on matters like these," Silentpaw said as she stopped walking. They were at the MistClan border that was close to WillowClan.

"When do you think you'll get your medicine cat name?" Maplethorn asked as she stepped over the border, a feeling of liberation flooding over her.

"Soon," Silentpaw replied. "Ghostwhisper's arranging a test for me tomorrow, in fact."

"Well," Maplethorn said after an awkward silence between them. "Goodbye then, I guess. Congratulations on getting your medicine cat name soon, Silentpaw."

"Farewell, and safe travels, Maplethorn," Silentpaw dipped her head.

Maplethorn turned around, fearing she might cry and sprinted into the moors, with only one destination in mind. She felt the flowers tickle her limbs and grace her with their fragrances.

"Speckledpatch!" Maplethorn called, when the familiar clearing came into view, halting as she paused, waiting for a response.

None came and Maplethorn feared the worst, but was calmed after seeing a stack of fresh prey and flower crowns in her habitation, or so she called it. Two nests, instead of one lay there and as she took a cautious sniff, she realised it was her nest from moons ago. Taken by happiness and joy, she was surprised that the she-cat hadn't thrown it away after all those moons when she left.

She lay down on it, not sure if she'd be welcomed, but the soft swaying of flowers and the perfumed air sent her to sleep.

"Good job, Maplethorn," Scorchflame meowed, as Maplethorn blinked her eyes open, but she couldn't tell if her mother was sarcastic or truly meant it; most likely a combination of both.

"Thank you, mother," she replied, disturbing the thin layer of pastel purple-pink mist that coated some portions of the ground.

"Are you going to throw me into the river again?" Maplethorn asked, her body taught.

"Well, I wasn't planning to do so, but since you kindly brought the matter up, perhaps we shall do that, before we spar with another apprentice or warrior."

"I didn't mean it though," Maplethorn whined, flattening her ears, but her mother paid no heed to her panicking and she felt herself falling into ice-cold water.

This time, the dark pond didn't seem to have a ground which she could push off. It truly seemed that Scorchflame was telling her to swim or drown, so swim she did. At first, she was just paddling uselessly in a fixed position, but as her lungs burned, it prompted her to put energy into it, to ignore the taunting beast behind her that had robbed her of her ability to hiss.

She powered on forward, towards the soft light from the surface. Mapleshade's kits certainly seemed to cause her peace, a peace that seemed everlasting, a peace that seemed permanent.

She gasped as her head broke the surface of the water, claws digging furiously into the sides of the pond and hauled her sopping wet figure out of the pond before shaking herself dry, positioning herself to ensure her mother got a good soaking as well.

"My, how you've learned, my cheeky little kit," Scorchflame meowed jokingly as she licked her damp paw and tackled Maplethorn playfully to the ground. The pair batted at each other with sheathed claws before her sister, seemingly from nowhere, leaped out of a tree and used both of them as a landing pad.

"Sister!" Goldenkit meowed, excited as she jumped around Maplethorn like a bright, golden dandelion in the breeze."We have a new half-brother!"

"I'd love to meet him," Maplethorn smiled tightly and watched her sister bound away, possibly to bring him here.

"Do you know as well?" Maplethorn looked at Scorchflame out of the corner of her eye.

"Yes I do," her mother sighed. "Not that I feel anything of course. Our partnership was mutually beneficial and not a lick of romance was involved."

"So, there was half a lick of romance in that case?" Maplethorn prodded her mother jokingly.

"Of course not!" she replied stiffly, tail flicking.

"I understand if you're jealous-" Maplethorn began.

"It's nothing to do with that Maplethorn. My, how quickly kits grow, you're so mature now, almost the same age as me after a few more moons. I'll tell you some other time."

"Did you steal my half-brother from StarClan again?" Maplethorn queried, merely curious as she watched a tom with golden eyes, a practical replica of Waspstar, emerge from the velvety undergrowth with Goldenkit not trailing far behind. He too, emitted soft, glowing sparkles in his trail.

"Yes," Scorchflame meowed. "For reasons that you do not need to know."

Maplethorn's interest was piqued again, but knew that Scorchflame was not willing to discuss anything further.

"You can name him if you want. He doesn't have one yet. Golden just calls him half-brother and everyone else dubs him as 'kit'."

"I can?" Maplethorn asked, bewildered, wondering if this was how mothers felt when naming their own kits.

"Go on," Scorchflame smiled, head tilted in the direction of the kit. "I want to see what you'd name him."

She studied the tom kit closely, yet he wasn't daunted by her large figure compared to his. He stared back at her with those mesmerising golden eyes of his, in a serious way that screamed Waspstar, yet with a stroke of innocence that whispered Briarwish.

"Beekit," Maplethorn concluded, pulling back after a few seconds.

"Yes?" the tom responded in an elegant tone, his voice silky like Briarwish, yet backed with a harshness that was reminiscent of her father.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Maplethorn, your half-sister," she finished, surprised her name stuck with him.

"Greeting to you as well, half-sister Maplethorn," he responded, head dipped respectfully, before heading off with Goldenkit.

"I sometimes envision Waspsting to be like that, if he hadn't discovered his power-hungry, vicious side of himself."

"So do I," Maplethorn replied, arriving at the same conclusion as her mother. "Wait, Waspsting? But he's Waspstar now."

Scorchflame smiled again at Maplethorn's bitterness whilst emphasising her father's new name.

"Ah, but I don't see him as my superior in any way or form, meaning I shouldn't have the reason to address him as such."

"What do you think about Briarwish and her...arrangements with Waspstar and Shadepool?" she asked, peering over at her mother as she watched Goldenkit and the newly named, Beekit, frolic and play in the fields.

"I don't blame Waspsting and your brother, they're both doltish idiots who were lured in by the prospect of something as goddess-like as I was...I guess it must run through the family. Waspsting must've fallen harder than your brother did, for some cat like Briar already existed, namely me. But then again, your brother never encountered anyone like me, thus something as ethereal as Briarwish must've lured him in so easily."

"Don't you think it's odd that the kits that look the most like Waspstar always end up dead?" Maplethorn mused aloud as she watched Goldenkit and Beekit tell each other stories.

"It must just be a coincidence," Scorchflame smiled. "But that is very intriguing."

"He must've lost it when he realised the tom kit that died was practically a replica of him," Maplethorn chuckled and Scorchflame joined in as they both had a giggle whilst envisioning the rage on her father's face after realising Beekit's death was a chance to have another heir that looked like him, something that he'd probably been wishing for, ever since her brother's birth.

"Let's go spar," Scorchflame stood up after laughing and trotted away to find an unsuspecting victim.

Scorchflame grinned as Mapleshade's apprentice, the WillowClan medicine cat in training, passed them and halted him in his journey.

"Ah, Grovepaw, how wonderful to see you again," she purred seductively, eyelids half-lowered over those flaming eyes of hers, tail tip trailing from the apprentice's neck to his cheek and underneath his jaw until it came to rest underneath his chin, her mother leaning closer as she whispered something into his ear and he stammered,

"Uh, well, thank you, Scorchflame. And it's Grovedusk now, I had my medicine cats' name bestowed upon me just after the most recent Gathering."

"Grovedusk," Scorchflame spoke again, voice low and sultry, "Such a handsome name and so suitable for some cat like you as well. Now, may I ask a favour from you? My beloved daughter needs a sparring partner, yet everyone else here is occupied with their own business, thus, I'd love it if you could be her sparring partner, just for today though, of course."

"C-certainly," he said, dipping his head in respect as he followed Maplethorn's mother, towards the clearing where she stood.

Grovedusk's eyes hardened the moment they lay on Maplethorn and as they took their places, the last thing she remembered was his fangs digging into her flesh...

[TIMESKIP]

Maplethorn awoke and gasped for air, confused as to why the darkness wasn't wrapped around her, but then realised she was no longer in MistClan. However, Speckledpatch had not yet returned and despite the grave wounds on her body, that singular thought alone compelled her to track down the loner.

She picked up a slightly stale scent and followed it for what seemed like aeons, however, a soft tune caused her ears to prick and she bolted in the direction of the music, her wounds protesting for her to do otherwise.

The brown tabby must've heard her approaching, for she stopped whatever she was doing and looked up. Maplethorn halted in her tracks as well, her half-congealed wounds barking in pain and waited for Speckledpatch's reaction.

"Maplepaw!" the she-cat purred as she carefully, serenely trotted towards her and rubbed Maple's head with her own.

"It's Maplethorn now," she replied, but was eager to see that she wasn't a stiff corpse on the ground.

"Maplethorn," Speckledpatch corrected herself, testing the name in the process and smiled,

"I had a hunch you'd come back."

"You didn't throw out the nest," Maplethorn replied bluntly, blinking, not sure what to say.

"Of course I didn't!" Speckledpatch exclaimed. "I had a dream that the one maple leaf that evaded my paws stopped being blown away and returned, falling softly, delicately next to me."

"You believed it?" Maplethorn replied, incredulous, wondering how cats who had left the clans would still be able to believe in StarClan without the reinforcements of those around them.

"Of course I do," Speckledpatch smiled, green eyes lighting up like the first soft rays of sunlight spilling over the horizon, greeting everything in its touch with a gentle warmth. "It's something that as a former medicine cat, I can never forget. I think your sister, Silentpaw, might agree with me."

Maplethorn exhaled, before looking at Speckledpatch, noting she was still half a head shorter than MistClan cats were even though she was a full-grown warrior now. As the wind purred around them, she beamed in return,

"It's nice to see you again, Speckledpatch."

Speckledpatch licked her ear and Maplethorn felt the she-cat stiffen as she pulled away from her.

"You're wounded," Speckledpatch meowed, eyes darkening, a stark contrast to the bright, lively orbs of joy before. "You didn't tell me you were wounded."

"It's nothing major," Maplethorn meowed, her wounds screaming out in protest, voicing their complaints, compelling her to add, "Not very major."

"Teeth marks," Speckledpatch sniffed the wounds before sighing, "Maplethorn, the moment you leave, you get caught up in all these fights again...the last thing I want is for you to injure yourself, so please, avoid fighting unless it's absolutely necessary."

Fighting isn't necessary in the Starless Forest, it's a part of one's being, Maplethorn bit her cheek but commented nothing more as the brown tabby led her back to her camp.

"It's a good thing you came when you did," Speckledpatch meowed, chewing on another pawful of dark green leaves, smearing the former clump on Maplethorn's back, "If you came a bit later, these wounds would've become infected pretty quickly."

"They're infected?" Maplethorn exclaimed, bolting upright, feeling some of the sloppy, green medication slide down her back.

"Lie down," Speckledpatch reprimanded her gently, a soft blow to her head, biting her scruff to reinforce her point before spreading another clump on Maplethorn's tail and hindlegs. "No, your wounds aren't infected...yet. I'm hoping I can draw out the early signs of infection before they actually become infected."

Maplethorn obliged grudgingly, but the soft, circular motions of Speckledpatch's paws on the places where the ointment was smeared, sent her drifting back into sleep again.