Every day her paws carried her further. Her walks were longer. She was certain she was getting closer. Closer to home. At least… her birth home. Not the safe one she had built with Slate.

The thought twisted in her chest like thorns caught in her pelt. That ruined twoleg den—cracked walls, scorched beams, shadows and smoke still clinging to its bones—had become something she never meant to find: comfort. Slate had carved out a place in the ashes and made it warm for her. She still remembered the way he looked at her, like she was the whole world.

She wasn’t sure how it happened. She swore up and down, tooth and claw, that she’d be loyal to ShadowClan. Loyal to the end. Loyal to her kin, her apprentices, her duty. Nothing and no one could shake that.

But he did.

Slate had saved her. Dragged her from the jaws of death when the fox left her bleeding and broken, far from everything she knew. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t demand anything. He simply stayed. And in return, she gave him her heart—slowly, then all at once. Somewhere in the quiet moments between healing and learning how to breathe again, she fell in love. Deeply. Helplessly.

And yet…

Why did she still seek out her clan? Why hadn’t she stayed in that shelter of stone and soot, curled against Slate’s side where things were soft and silent? Why did her paws keep pulling her north, toward the trees that shaped her, toward the names and faces that still haunted her dreams?

Because no matter how far she ran, BristleThorn was ShadowClan. Because FlyTails and Sp//iderThorns faces still lingered when she closed her eyes. Because she couldn’t live pretending her roots weren’t deep where she came from. She missed them. All of them. Even if she wasn’t sure they missed her back.

A cold breeze stirred the fur along her spine. She glanced toward the sky then to the thick trees as her path back to the burnt den grew more familiar and she made out Slates frame. “Hey you” she purred as she neared, a soft smile on her usually harsh face.

Her breath caught as he pressed his head to hers, and her eyes shut for a moment too long, letting herself sink into that warmth. That steadiness. Slate had this way of grounding her even when she felt like she was about to fall apart at the seams.

She leaned against him, her voice low. “Mm… I kept thinking I’d turn a corner and the pines would shift just right, and I’d see the marsh. The scent of it. Hear birds I used to know. Stupid, maybe.” Her tone was half-hearted, like she was trying to laugh at herself and couldn’t quite make it convincing. Her tail curled tighter around his, then loosened slightly.

“I can feel it, though. I’m close.” A pause. Her gaze flicked up to meet his. “Too close to lie to myself anymore.” She hesitated, her eyes softening, a rare vulnerability showing through. “I still want to go back, Slate,” she said quietly. “And I don’t know what that means for us.”

The words hurt more coming out than she expected. Her voice cracked slightly, barely enough to notice unless you knew her well—but Slate did. He always did.

“I love you,” she added before she could stop herself, pressing her forehead to his chest. “That hasn’t changed. It won’t. But I don’t know if… if I can live half a life. One paw here and one there.” She swallowed. “And now…” she glanced at her paws then her stomach. She had never…but…she was pretty sure she was expecting kits.

Her voice trailed off, but her meaning was clear. She was scared. Not of being a mother—but of having to choose.

She froze, her breath hitching.

She stared at him, blinking slowly, trying to process what he’d just said. Then I’ll come with you. To the ends of the earth. She should’ve smiled. She should’ve felt warm and safe and full. But instead, her chest tightened, breath catching

Slate’s words hit her hard. Warm. Pure. Devoted. And so painfully naïve. For a second, BristleThorn couldn’t speak. Her throat was tight, her fur bristling (no ounce intended) not in anger, but in fear. She wanted this—StarClan help her, she wanted this—but wanting wasn’t enough. Not where she came from.

“You can’t just… follow me,” she whispered, voice trembling. “It’s not that simple.” She pulled back just enough to look at him, her brown eyes searching his golden ones. “ShadowClan doesn’t… they don’t just let outsiders in. Even if you join every cat’s look at ya like you’re poison in their prey…the dont trust. Not easily. And even if they did—Slate, if they know the kits are yours, they’ll think I betrayed them. That I never meant to come back…maybe even that I ran away for you.”

Her claws curled into the earth. “They’ve already lost faith in me once. I left. I disappeared. If I come back with kits and a mate from the outside... they won’t trust me again. They might not even let me stay.” Her ears pinned briefly, her voice shaking now. “I need them to believe they’re ShadowClan kits. I need them to believe I never strayed.” She was still early on…it felt easy enough that she could fool the clan that the pregnancy occurred after her return.

She shut her eyes, guilt flooding every corner of her. “I’m asking you to let them think they’re not yours. They can’t know…not at first. Not ever, maybe. I hate it. It tears me apart. But it’s the only way I can keep them safe. You safe, if you decide to go and join.” Then she added, quieter, almost a plea, “I’ll fight for you. I’ll fight to bring you in. But it has to be slow. Careful. Or they’ll tear us apart before we even have a chance.”

“Do you still want to come with me… even if it means hiding everything that matters most?”

She hadn’t expected him to react like that. Slate didn’t yell. Didn’t argue. He just backed away, like she’d struck him across the muzzle. Like she’d said she didn’t love him at all. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Slate—” her voice came out hoarse, barely more than a breath. Her heart thundered painfully in her chest. “That’s not what I meant. That’s not what I meant.”

But it was too late. He wouldn’t look at her. Wouldn’t meet her eyes. She stepped forward, then stopped, frozen in the moment between reaching and retreating. “I didn’t say you couldn’t come. I want you to. I need you too. I want—everything. You. Them. My- my son.” She just now realized how much it ached thinking of how she left him. He was so grown now but after his parents abandoned him and she took him in…he was just left again. “…A life where I don’t have to lie about any of it. But that’s not how ShadowClan works.” Her claws dug into the earth. “You think this is easy for me? You think I like saying this?”

Her voice shook now, cracking at the edges. “If I could choose the world I wanted, we’d all be safe together in that den. Or better yet, in the forest where no one questioned us. But I can’t pick that world. I can only pick the one we survive in.” She looked at him, really looked this time, eyes brimming. “Don’t walk away from me, Slate. Don’t make me do this alone.”

She didn’t mean to cry.

But the moment Slate stepped forward, calm and certain, and pressed his muzzle to hers, the tears slipped out without warning. He chose her. Again. Even after everything. Even when she gave him every reason to walk away. He still chose her. Her legs nearly gave out from under her.

“I will,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’ll wait for you. I’ll fight for you, Slate. I swear it.” She pressed into him, burying her face in his fur, holding onto him like the world was crumbling around them and he was the only thing still solid.

“I’m so scared,” she choked. “But I’d rather be scared with you than safe without you.” She didn’t care if it was foolish. She didn’t care if it hurt. She was going to make this work—even if it meant lying to her clan, sneaking glances across the camp, whispering truths only under starlight.

She’d wait. She’d fight. Because Slate was worth it. Because they were worth it.

This is all still hypothetical anyways. She had a feeling of familiarity that made her feel she was getting closer but still…every time she thought she had a grasp, her memories slipped from her just as quickly as the came. Stupid fox.