//Un//marked

// epilogue //

Mothpelt walked between the High Stones peacefully, a feeling of lightness in her despite the events of the past half moon. It felt as if, with the death of Dawnstar, a darkness had been lifted. Since the battle, not so much as a squabble had broken out between the cats now residing at High Stones.

She knew this peace could not last forever, but she basked in it while it did. Tonight was the full moon and the night when they would be divided into the Clans of Old – RockClan, SeaClan, and MoorClan. Sootstar had come to her in a dream, naming the new leaders of these Clans. Those same cats would be returning any moment now from their journey to the Moonwaters.

Mothpelt stopped her rounds when she reached the old DarkClan medicine den. Memories of Cedarheart poked at the edges of her mind and some of the old grief welled up. She could only imagine how proud her old mentor would be of the rebels now.

"We're running out of cobwebs," Crowpaw said tiredly as he emerged from the den. Though they had found it well-stocked, by Reedpaw no doubt, treating the wounded had taken its toll on supplies.

"We'll send a small patrol to the forest to collect more," she assured him. He nodded and headed off dutifully to check on their patients. Mothpelt had no doubt he would make a fine medicine cat for any Clan he ended up in.

"How is Flamestrike doing?"

The worried voice of Cinderblossom was one Mothpelt had become accustomed to. First, her questions had been about Dewpaw, then Beaver, and then Flamestrike. All three toms had been heavily injured in the battle but, thankfully, were making full to near full recoveries. Even so, there was nothing Mothpelt could do about a broken leg.

"He will have to learn to fight without his back leg," she told Cinderblossom. "But if Dewpaw did it, who is to say Flamestrike can't?"

The grey warrior nodded her head in thanks. "We're really lucky to have you, Mothpelt. I don't think he would have survived without you. I don't think any of them would have."

Mothpelt flicked her tail, brushing the comment off modestly. "Lily and Crowpaw deserve credit too. I think we're lucky we didn't lose too many lives in the battle."

Still, the deaths had taken their toll on the members of the new Clans. Soren and Finch, especially, had left a mark on their littermates, Olive and Hazel. The two she-cats had been unable to sleep for nights on end before Mothpelt gave them herbs to soothe their shock and grief. Olive, she had noticed, had been finding support in Bramblefire who, like her, had lost his own littermate in the previous rebellion.

Some were still on edge, as some members of DarkClan had disappeared after Dawnstar's defeat. Skunknose, Shadowpelt, and Smoketalon were still out there somewhere, and the knowledge made Mothpelt, among others, uneasy. The other surviving members of DarkClan had begged for a chance to redeem themselves – Minkfur, Pigeonfang, and Dapplefrost because of the peaceful lives they wanted for their kits and the others because of their desire for freedom from DarkClan's rules.

"Sometimes, I still can't believe it's over," Cinderblossom said quietly. Mothpelt nodded; the freedom felt surreal.

Night was already beginning to fall and the excitement around High Stones was palpable. The last of the hunting patrols arrived, jaws filled with freshkill. Leafbare was slowly melting into newleaf and prey had been abundant as of late, almost as if the world was celebrating DarkClan's defeat.

Crowpaw retrieved a squirrel and offered to share it with Mothpelt. The two medics settled near the medicine den, sitting in a comfortable silence. Others had settled in groups all around the Speaking Rock, waiting impatiently for their new leaders to arrive. They were mixed, today, rebels sharing tongues with former DarkClan cats and alley cats mixing with the former gang. They were united, stronger than ever before and, sadly, Mothpelt realized this might be the last time until the next full moon that they would be.

As a medicine cat, at least, she would still have some part in the lives of the other medicine cats.

"When it is decided which Clan you are to be part of," Mothpelt said, leaning closer to Crowpaw, "we will go to Moonwaters so you can receive your full name."

Crowpaw's eyes lit up. "Really? I've only been a medic's apprentice for a short period of time."

Mothpelt flicked her tail. "You have natural talent. After what the past half moon has put you through, I think you are ready. And, if you ever need my help, you can still ask for it. We medicine cats don't turn our backs on those in need."

The new leaders arrived out of breath, eager to begin the very first Gathering of the new Clans. Sprucetail – Sprucestar – jumped onto the Speaking Rock first, followed by Bronco and Gannet.

"I am Sprucestar of RockClan," she said loudly, pride evident in her voice.

"I am Gannetstar of SeaClan," the black and white tom beside her announced.

"And I am Tallstar of MoorClan," the former alley cat leader called.

"Together we will rebuild the Clans of Old," Sprucestar continued. "We have discussed with StarClan the division of the Clans but, in the end, it is each individual who decides where they wish to be."

And so, the division began. Sprucestar stepped aside to let Tallstar announce the members of MoorClan, then Gannetstar the members of SeaClan, before finally calling Mothpelt's own name in her appointment of RockClan's members.

"StarClan has chosen well," Mothpelt said off-handedly, observing as the scattered cats joined their respective leaders. Despite the assurance that they could choose a different Clan if they wished, not a single cat strayed.

"I hope you serve RockClan well," Crowpaw said, dipping his head to her.

Mothpelt nodded back. "And you MoorClan. Take care of Bramblefire for me, will you?" A small pang hit her chest as she saw her brown tabby littermate following Olive to the MoorClan group.

Crowpaw twitched his whiskers. "Of course. And you make sure Dewpaw stays out of trouble."

"I can only try," the she-cat replied. "Until tomorrow, then, and your naming ceremony."

"Goodbye," Crowpaw said simply before joining his new Clan.

Mothpelt moved to join her own when a black shape atop the Speaking Rock suddenly caught her eye. The white-rimmed eyes met hers and the black tom nodded.

"Your name wasn't called," Mothpelt said, approaching the tom. The dancing light had left his eyes, leaving behind the Nightchaser she remembered.

He twitched his whiskers sadly. "It is not in StarClan's plan for me to be part of the reborn Clans. I have done my part."

"But where will you go?" Mothpelt asked. Behind them, the new Clans were beginning to depart.

"Where all the others have gone," he replied, eyes flicking to the dark horizon. "My truth-telling has come to an end. It is now the duty of the medicine cats to communicate with StarClan, and pass on the warrior code to their Clans."

His eyes remained clouded but his pawsteps were sure as he moved past Mothpelt and off into a world covered by night.

Nightchaser, always chasing the night, she thought with a tinge of sadness.

By the time Mothpelt settled into her new den in the forest gorge and gazed up at the twinkling stars, she knew Nightchaser was gone, and that the Clans would wake to another day of peace.