Frag' ich dich nochmal und du sagst nichts | stars 1900

[Vinson]

You are different
You don't listen to me
You know I cannot
Be silent as good as you

Because you don't tell me everything
I ask you again
And you say nothing
Because you don't tell me everything
I ask you again
And you say nothing

"Oh, isn't she just wonderful?" Honeysuckle practically gleamed, glowing like the bright sun that shone in from above the homestead. Her brother and sister joyously agreed, but Huckleberry glanced down warily at the single kit that Honeysuckle had just birthed. This single, large, fluffed up kit. Honeysuckle had not once mentioned a father, and it wasn't Huckleberry's place to ask (or anyone's, really), but as he placed his big paw on this oversized kit, turning her from side to side, giving her a sniff and a lick, he couldn't help but feel like this kit was not meant to be. She was out of place, she did not belong - and Huckleberry cast a single downtrodden look at the sightless newborn kit before nodding along, giving her new mother a smile. "She's perfectly healthy."

overarching theme ;
du bist anders (Kölsch version) / du bist anders





accompanying playlist ;
bloodflood, pt ii (alt-j) | pools (glass animals) | scarlet paintings (milky chance) | easier (mansionair) | all's well that ends (rainbow kitten surprise) | bright lies (giant rooks) | orangenlied (annenmaykantereit)

stars 1900 / the summit

[Vinson]

But I can see something in your face
And I don't know what it is
But I can see something in your face
And I don't know what it is

"Mother! I'm going out with Sunflower and her brothers!" Kit shouted back into the homestead, watching a small cloud of dust puff out into the hot air. She hardly waited for Honeysuckle to reply before tottering after Sunflower. The pretty, thick-furred molly was only a few moons older than she was, and she had earned her name already - and Kit had to admit, it fit her very well. Everyone dreamed about what their name was going to be, how they were going to be called for the rest of their lives, and hoped that it might be something in particular. Sunflower had told her that she wanted to be named after a gemstone, like her late mother Amethyst, but she wasn't disappointed at all with her newly given name. Or if she was, she hid it well. Despite her name, Sunflower planned on becoming a carver. It was what her parents were, what her grandparents were, and all those who came before her in her family. Even now, still young and growing, she looked perfect for the job. Thick fur, a beautiful long tail that was tufted at the end, tall tufted ears, strong shoulders. Kit felt a shiver run down her spine just looking at Sunflower. She looked down at her own paws and frowned, turning them over to look at her still delicate pink pawpads, swishing her long tail, flicking her short ears. Honeysuckle was a trail runner, as was her aunt Mouse, but their younger brother Mole was a carver. And since Honeysuckle never spoke of her father, she didn't know what her family heritage looked like. She grew frustrated sometimes, staring at her reflection in the puddles that would form after the late afternoon summer storms. She didn't look like a trail runner, with her bulky build and short ears and long tail. But she knew she wasn't a carver either, despite these traits that might say otherwise. The sun on her face, the wind in her whiskers, the feel of warm earth and grass under her paws...
"Are you coming?" Sunflower asked, swishing her tail and looking back at Kit with a curious glimmer in her eyes. Kit nodded, trotting along on short legs, feeling her belly fur brush the dry grass. "They'll be along soon enough," she said, walking to keep pace with Kit. She felt a purr rise in her chest, gave a toothy grin. Everyone knew that Sunflower and her brothers were going to become carvers, and Kit knew that the path of a carver was not for her. This next moon might be the last time they spent any substantial amount of time together, and she didn't want to waste any of it. Sunflower was very dear to her heart, and they spent most of their time together when Kit wasn't with Honeysuckle. Kit always felt so at ease around her - the young molly made her heart feel warm and she dreaded the day she knew was coming - when Sunflower would become a timber and leave her alone in the homestead. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts and sending more dust flying into the air. It was hot and dry, and the two of them laughed as they shook and shook, freeing layers of caked-in dust from their pelts. Kit felt the earth under her paws, watched the trees sway in a gentle breeze, and collapsed dramatically with a loud 'oof!' onto her back. She wiggled, scratching an itch that she hadn't been able to reach, but she soon stilled. Her green eyes went wide, and her jaw parted slightly in a look of awe. Sunflower giggled at the silly fanged expression, but soon she lay down and looked up as well, and saw just what Kit was so engrossed in. The sky was full of thick white clouds, floating across the serene blue background and chasing each other, obscuring the bright sun for a precious few moments. "Woah," Kit murmured, eyes still wide, trying to take in as much of this scene as she could. The sun, ever so bright, seemed to burn itself into her brain. She hoped the clouds would do the same, that this memory wouldn't be fleeting as the puffy wisps that ran so fast across her view. Sunflower pressed into her side, her belly fur tickling Kit's fluffy cheeks and making her whiskers twitch. She sneezed, laughing, and sat up to see her mother observing her just as she had been so enamored with the clouds. "Isn't it beautiful, mama?" she asked, beckoning her mother over with a flick of her white tipped tail. Honeysuckle came to rest in the short grass beside them, smiling, and groomed the top of Kit's head with a purr.
"Yes - the sky and you both, Cloud."

[Vinson]

I don't know what it is
And it drives me insane
And I don't believe you
That there is nothing
I wonder if you're scared

Late spring turned to late summer. The afternoon storms picked up in intensity as they always did, driving entire patrols to duck for cover under the fat raindrops and occasional hail. The skies often turned black and angry, the clouds warped and dark and loud. And Cloud mirrored them.
Sunflower and Magpie and Pine had all gone down to train as carvers in the old tunnels and caves two moons ago, and Cloud grew to resent the time she spent in the homestead. She was the only one, and sufficient enough to the point where Honeysuckle would leave her to join patrols and catch up with family and friends. Cloud sat and scuffed her paws and grew bored and irritable. But she would not be stuck in the homestead for long - it was during one of these storms that their centennial called for her. Cloud practically fell over her own oversized paws trying to slink out of the homestead and back into the main cave, but it was worth it - her heart raced and her eyes could hardly see anything in the dark down beneath, but the coin glinted in the murk as Blackberry said the words and she was a timber.
Cloud buzzed for the entire rest of the day. She felt like she had been thrown out into one of those electric storms - her fur stood on end and her skin prickled and her heart, if given any chance, was going to leap right out of her chest. She was finally going to join her mother and Mouse and their fellow trail runners. She was going to figure out who she was and prove to the clan that she belonged.
Cloud was not stupid, nor had she ever been. There is a certain naivety that comes with being young and an only child, especially one so revered as she had been by Honeysuckle. But her mind and her eyes worked just fine, and she often found other cats staring at her, embarrassed to be caught looking. They would sneak glances at her when they thought she wasn't paying attention, only to jerk their heads away and pretend like she wasn't in the room when she met their eyes. Cloud knew that she was...different, to say the least. She was bigger, but not all over, and often found herself awkward and clumsy. Her teeth stuck out all funny and her nose was squished in and her tail was very long when the rest of her family's tails were all short. Her thick pelt, at least, bore a resemblance to Honeysuckle's. But all of these looks and all of the whispers that accompanied them did not go unnoticed, nor did they have no effect on the young molly.
To be completely honest, Cloud had no idea who she was. Sure, she knew that Honeysuckle was her mother and her mother's siblings were Mole and Mouse, and their centennial Blackberry was her mother's mother - but this was only half the story. Blackberry once had Ptarmigan, and Mouse had Bullfrog, and Mole had Granite. But who did Honeysuckle have? Cloud knew her mother like the pad of her paw. But her father was a different story. Honeysuckle never brought him up, and even when pestered by her kit, she never relented.
"Your father," she would say, guarded and reserved, "was a noble cat. I can tell you no more." And that was the end of the story. Was he out there somewhere, alive and wondering what she was doing? Or was he dead and buried, watching from the stars above? Would he even be in the stars above, if he was not from the summit? Did she take after him? Cloud's mind was a whirlwind of questions unanswered. And it left her wary, unsure, and wanting to find herself and who she was.
Finally out of the silence of her mind in the homestead, she found herself growing close with Lark, another timber a few moons older than Sunflower's litter. She had no littermates, but she had a sister, Columbine, who was a season older and a bright young sheriff. Lark was calm and collected, and she reminded Cloud a little bit of Sunflower. And Lark was close with Magpie, and so Cloud was always dragged along when Lark wanted to meet with him. She would grumpily huff and pin her ears to her head, but going along with Lark to see Magpie often meant seeing Sunflower - and Cloud was still enamored with the golden molly. She found herself growing sheepish around Sunflower, all jittery and nervous with gazes cast at her fidgeting paws as Sunflower blushed and smiled at her. If Cloud knew only one thing, it was that she had always been, and would always be, in love with Sunflower.

[Vinson]

I wonder if you're scared
Or is there somebody else?
Do you realize how little you laugh?
Please, please...

Cloud lashed her tail, a grimace on her face. Her lower canines, the ones that stuck out at a funny angle, pricked her skin but Cloud barely noticed. She paced back and forth in the crackling stems of long, golden grass, listening to them snap under her strong paws, taking solace in her small act of destruction. She was ten moons old now, a proper timber and no longer a tottering kit, and she knew that she had no right to be this angry - but it was either be angry or give in to a crushing wave of grief and sadness. And so Cloud had decided to be angry at the world. But even underneath her anger, Cloud knew that the world did not care. She huffed, sitting down among the broken stems, and looked up to the sky. But the sky had nothing to say.
She lay down, curling in on herself, and rested her muzzle on her paws, breathing in the earthy scent of late autumn. It seemed like only days ago they had been frolicking above the homestead, but now Cloud felt about as far away from those moments as if she were an elder. They had been so close, but then their paths had diverged, and now- Cloud rose shakily and began walking back towards camp. Tears clouded her eyes and she began to run, claws unsheathed, feeling every bit of dirt and every blade of grass, trying to ground herself. The molly came to a halt outside of the main entrance, felt her muscles quiver and her heart clench. Breathing quietly, she padded into the gaping maw of the tunnel, listening to her heart race as her paws plodded steadily forwards, onwards. The sky disappeared from her view and the light grew low and dark, the air grew musty. She curled her tail around her flank as she reached the medicine den, shuffling her paws and looking down at the packed earth that her ancestors had walked upon, dipping into a divot. Her father had not walked these tunnels, her mind told her. But she pushed the thought away. She forced herself forward again and felt her breath catch in her throat.
Cloud had been told that it was bad, but she wasn't ready for just what sat before her eyes. Her breath hitched and Sunflower looked up wearily, with tired and pained eyes, but her gaze lit up when she saw Cloud. Cloud felt tears spring to her eyes again as she hastily padded to Sunflower's side, laying beside her on the cool earth, licking her shoulder gently. She didn't want to look. She closed her eyes, but just like the vision of the clouds that summer in their kithood, Sunflower's injuries were burned into her memory. Gone was her long tail, that tail she had been so proud of, the tail that showed her heritage so clearly. The scrapes and bruises would mean nothing in a few days, but the stump that remained of her tail would last a lifetime.
"Shhh..it's alright," Sunflower croaked out, sounding just the opposite of what she was saying. Cloud opened her eyes and whimpered. "But your tail," she murmured, nosing her face into Sunflower's thick fur, muffling her voice. "Your tail," Cloud whispered. It wasn't just her vanity that Cloud was worried about. They both knew this. Sunflower had so deeply wanted to follow in her ancestors paw-steps, to become a carver - but with no tail, there was nothing left to be pulled out of cave-ins. She had dreamed of so much, but now...now Cloud was uncertain what would become of Sunflower.
"I almost couldn't bring myself down here," she laughed, bringing a paw up to wipe the tears out of her eyes, looking to Sunflower to guide her even now. Sunflower smiled faintly, purring. "You always did hate these tunnels. You said that if you were named after something in the sky then you should be under it, not down here in the dirt." Cloud remembered saying that. She twined her body around Sunflower's. "I'm glad you're here now, though," Sunflower whispered, growing quiet. "I was afraid you wouldn't come."
Cloud felt the color drain from her face. This cat she was lying next to, wrapped up in, was not the same cat that had entered the tunnels this morning. Sunflower, as Cloud knew her, was gone. She had always been so sure of herself, so confident and true. And now that this confidence was gone, left behind in the cave-in that claimed her life's aspirations, Cloud felt her own world falling apart as well.

[Vinson]

Tell me and don't act
Like there is nothing
Please, please
Tell me and don't act
Like there is nothing

However unnatural it felt now, Cloud spent the night buried deep beneath the ground, right at Sunflower’s side. She woke, trembling, several times throughout the night as Huckleberry wafted around the room and checked on Sunflower’s wounds, and found herself feeling guilty for how her body was reacting to the caves. It didn’t matter that she felt trapped in here, it mattered that she was by Sunflower’s side. They had spent too long apart, and she didn’t want to disappoint Sunflower, and probably frighten her, by leaving in the middle of the night. So Cloud remained, nervous as a trapped rabbit, comforted just slightly by the feel of Sunflower’s thick fur pressed against her side. When she woke in a daze several hours later, unsure of where the sun was in the sky, she decided that it had been long enough. She wanted to hunt for Sunflower - she knew she wouldn’t make up the lost moons with a mole or a squirrel, but she could at least begin to make amends and rekindle their relationship. She stood, quietly padded from the den, and made her way up and out of the tunnels. The further she ascended, the better she felt - it was like a weight was lifting from her chest with every step, freeing her breath and her mind. Cloud stood and watched from the tunnel’s maw as the sun rose quietly and slowly, bathing the ruins in a hazy golden light. The fur along her spine twitched and she stretched, grateful for the fresh air and room to move, but most of all for the sight of the sky above her head. This was where she belonged - above ground and free to go where her paws took her, not confined to old paths and tunnels.
Cloud rose from her stretch with a purr, lashing her tail languidly behind her and tasting the air. It was still and silent, but she knew that the further she got from the tunnels and the ruins, the more noise she would find. The trees would be full of prey at this time - she had hit the golden hour. Nobody else was out yet. The world was hers. Silently she padded out from the tunnels and around the ruins, heading north towards the trees. A big rabbit caught her eye, buried in the tall stems of rustling grass, but she knew she didn’t have enough experience or speed yet to take it on by herself. She watched longingly as it caught her eye and slipped further away - it would have made quite a feast for them down in Huckleberry’s cavern. Continuing forward, she stopped suddenly as she caught the quiet sounds of mice moving in the grass. She paused, stilled herself, and pressed an ear to the ground. There was a quiet pitter-pattering of tiny footsteps, and Cloud licked her lips, curling her tail in towards her body and moving forward ever so slowly. She tried to remember what her mentors had taught her, what Honeysuckle had lectured her on, and moved with silent pawsteps. Seeing three mice foraging, she thanked the stars, squared her haunches, and pounced. She landed directly on one, then shot a paw out and trapped another. She killed them swiftly, purring quietly to herself. They weren’t anything impressive, but Cloud was proud that she had caught them on the first try, even if nobody was watching.
Picking her catch up, she turned to go back towards the tunnels - she didn’t want to leave Sunflower for long, and she hadn’t told anyone she was going out. But despite this she moved slowly, wishing she didn’t have to go back underground. Just the thought of going that deep in the caves again sent a shiver through her, and she looked up longingly at the pale morning sky once more. Cloud sighed, turning her attention back to her path, but a flash of color caught her eye. Stopping to find out what it was, she quickly realized it was a bright orange butterfly - what a pretty little thing! It was brighter than the dawn sky, fluttering daintily in the gentle breeze. She smiled, watched it fly up and around, turning to land directly in front of her. It swayed on a stem of grass, flapped its wings, and took off towards the tunnels. Cloud almost gasped - was this some sort of sign? What was it trying to tell her? Hastily she wandered after it, following its lazy, winding path towards the main tunnel entrance. They passed the outskirts of the grove, wound their way around the edge of the ruins, and stopped just outside the tunnel. Cloud watched, mesmerized, as the butterfly flew into the mouth of the tunnel, landed, and flapped its wings. It turned back to the open air and fluttered out, quickly

flying up and away. Cloud dropped her mice, paused to sit down and think for a moment. What did this mean? Why would the butterfly go into the tunnel? Why - and suddenly Cloud realized. The butterfly was showing her the path she needed to take. Shedidn’t want to be in the tunnels - didn’t belong there, much as the butterfly didn’t either - and the butterfly simply turned around and left. She felt a shock run through her whole body. Was this a sign that she needed to leave?
Cloud hesitated. She knew that she didn’t belong here, didn’t know who she was or who she came from or who she was meant to be. Would leaving help her answer these questions and find herself? Looking into the darkness of the tunnel, then out again at the hazy, glowing, morning sky - she closed her eyes, torn. She had just committed to staying by Sunflower’s side, to supporting her. But she was sure that this butterfly had been a sign telling her she needed to go. She steeled herself, opened her eyes, and padded determinedly into the tunnels. She ignored her muscles screaming at her to turn around and go back above ground. There was one thing she needed to do still.
Sunflower was still asleep, but just barely. Cloud roused her quietly, making sure not to wake Huckleberry, and nosed a mouse over towards her. She smiled and purred softly as Sunflower licked her cheek in appreciation. But her purr ended abruptly as she remembered what she had come to do. “Sunflower,” she started, softly and unsure. “When I was hunting I received a sign from the stars. I need to go away, on a journey, to find myself,” she murmured, not meeting her eyes.
She didn’t know if she could bring herself to. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, and I’m going to miss you so much, but I’m sure it was a sign and I have to follow it. Can you understand?” She asked, reaching a paw out to place it on Sunflower’s. The older molly stiffened.
“I don’t want you to leave,” Sunflower said shakily, breath caught in her chest. “I just got you back,” she whispered, pressing her head into Cloud’s shoulder.
“I know,” Cloud said, trying to hide the emotions that threatened to spill out of her at any moment. “I have to go…I have to go,” she choked out, finally looking up to meet Sunflower’s eyes. A quiet sob rattled its way out of her chest, and Cloud pressed her face into Sunflower’s neck ruff, breathing in deeply, then rising shakily to her paws and wobbling a few steps out of the cave.
“Goodbye, Sunflower,” she called out, hushed, wrought with emotion. “Please…can you tell my mother that I’ve gone?” She asked, feeling tears spring to her eyes. But she didn’t dare look back at Sunflower any longer, feeling that if she gazed too long into her sunset eyes she would be drawn back into the cave. Cloud turned and ran out of the tunnel, wound her way up to the entrance, and kept running, away, away, away.
Sunflower choked out a harsh sob and collapsed back into the ground, curling her paws up into her chest and hiding her face in her thick fur. The mice that Cloud had caught for her sat unnoticed at the edge of her nest.

[Vinson]

But I can see something in your face
And I don't know what it is
But I can see something in your face
And I don't know what it is

Cloud forced herself to feel nothing by running as fast as her big, clumsy paws would take her, throwing her whole mind into getting away. Nothing else mattered. For now, she tried to focus on where she was going. She hasn’t chosen her direction carefully upon leaving - in fact, she hasn’t chosen a direction at all. She slowed, pinning her ears to her head, breath heaving. She cursed herself for not thinking this through. She was usually so thorough, and this impulse to simply turn around and leave had been unexpected and rash. Cloud knew she couldn’t go over the mountains this time of year, with a brisk autumn wind ushering winter in. She could go north, through the forest, she decided, turning and loping off to trail the edge of the lake and cut through the valley clearing. There was a little bit of regret as she passed the cold glacial lake, wove through the grasses, and trotted through the thick spruces. Branches crackled under her paws, and she turned to stop a moment, to look back. The Summit was all that Cloud had ever known. Everything, and everyone, that she held dear was back there, nestled in the valley and hidden in the mountains. She hesitated, sweeping her tail out behind her, but she closed her eyes and turned away, true north, and forced herself away. She had to do this.
Cloud traveled for several days, but she soon found herself overwhelmed. She had been training for four moons, but alone in the wilderness she felt lost. She tried to remember what she had learned, and grew frustrated when everything blurred together or she couldn’t recall a technique or tidbit of information. But most of all, she was frustrated that she hadn’t found any other signs telling her where she needed to go. She felt like she was wandering in circles, watching the dark clouds move in over the mountains, feeling the air grow colder and watching prey turn to their burrows. Every day she wanted to turn back home, but every day she pressed on. She was determined to find her answers.
It was half a moon later when the first snow of the season arrived. It wasn’t early - in fact, it was late - but Cloud wasn’t prepared. The white flakes chilled her pelt as they collected along her topside, the snow building up around her. She remembered the carvers always complained about tearing claws in winter because the ground grew hard as stone, and she quickly decided to stop and dig herself a scrape. She had done more digging in this past moon than she had in her entire life, and more walking than she had done in several moons combined. And never before had she been so alone, with no one to talk to and no one to teach her, but she was steeled. She had to keep going. She had to find answers. The snow has stopped by the time Cloud woke in the morning, shivering and tense. She rose on stiff paws and shook herself out, trying to warm herself up. She missed curling up next to her denmates in moments like this, and her stomach rumbled - she would need to try and hunt. She almost scoffed. Nothing would be out in this weather! But she knew she had to try. There was no hurry as she tried to pick up scents that the snow had buried. She grew excited as she smelled squirrel - and fresh, too! She padded towards the scent, glad that the snow softened her pawsteps, and tracked the smell towards a small copse of spruces. Cloud sat, watching for movement, but the branches were thick and she grew impatient the longer she sat without no sign of life in the tree. She was about to try somewhere else when a small flash of red caught her eye - she stilled, focused, and stood as quietly as she could. She was about to pounce when the smallest squirrel she had ever seen peeked its head out of its hiding spot. Her heart grew warm - this little thing was just a pup still! She purred, reaching a paw out, and the little squirrel darted up her leg and nestled in her thick belly fur. Cloud wanted to laugh - here she was, alone in the forest, and instead of hunting she was going to nurture an abandoned baby squirrel. She almost heard Sunflower’s voice, telling her how silly she was being, and all of a sudden Cloud felt tears in her eyes. She regretted leaving, and she wanted to go home - but she knew that the answers to her questions were waiting out here, somewhere. She just needed more time.

[Vinson]

You are different
You don't listen to me
You know I cannot
Be silent as good as you

The snow only became more frequent after the first storm of the season. Cloud, now with a companion, was determined to head on and not go back without completing her mission and following the butterfly’s sign. She nurtured the little squirrel - she called him Acorn at first, just as a placeholder, but the name stuck. So now Cloud and Acorn headed on, through the forest. If she hasn’t been so cold she would have appreciated the beauty around her - the snow flocked the trees, the sky was clear and blue most days. But it was also freezing. The snow stuck in clumps between her paw pads and froze under her belly. But still she searched. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for anymore - the forest seemed empty of any other cats, and she wondered if she had chosen the wrong direction to search. Had Honeysuckle gone into the mountains to meet her father? Or was he from the southern clan? Every day she looked for any sign that other cats had been here, and every day she found no success. They had been looking for moons now, and Cloud felt the pull of home even stronger the longer she stayed away.
The pair woke early one morning, and Cloud decided to head towards the sun instead of further north. She trekked across the forest with Acorn on her back, towards a clearing in the trees. They came upon a field of thick green grass, the snow having melted a little here under the bright mountain sun. Acorn hopped off her back and ran around a bit, chattering and leaping. Cloud laughed, but then she looked across the field and saw two cats. She gasped, startled, and realized she had never prepared anything to say or do if she came across another cat. She huffed, then headed towards them. Acorn saw her moving quickly and pattered towards her, climbing up one of her hind legs to sit on her back again.
"I see you made it,” one of the cats - a red one - called out to Cloud as she climbed up to their rocky outcropping. "Made it where?" She asked curiously, glancing around yet again, confused,
The cat grinned. "We often find your ones wandering, searching for answers." The blind cat nodded along to his words. "Always seeking something, whether they know it or not." Uncertain, she hesitated. The cat turned his penetrating green eyes back to her, gaze harsh. "Except you always already know the answer."
Cloud bristled, feeling anger rise in her throat. How dare they assume they knew what she was looking for! It wasn’t as if she was just searching for prey, or a lost family heirloom.
“I haven’t yet found what I’m looking for,” she snubbed back, sitting down, curling her thick tail around her. The blind cat laughed and Cloud pinned her ears, wrinkling her muzzle.
“Because you already know it, young cat. Young Cloud.”
Cloud gaped, shifting her paws in under her further. Acorn chattered on her back. How did this cat know her name? Were they…? She blinked, about to ask, but the red cat waved their tail and stopped her. “You will not learn anything more here. The answer is within your own mind.”
She returned her gaze to her paws, unsure of what to say or do. She looked up to the two cats, nodded, and turned away, back in the direction she had come from. She knew better than to argue.
Cloud sighed, trying to think. They said she knew the answer, but she didn’t - if she had found her answers, found herself, then she would have gone back home long ago. But she had found nothing, and it had been nearly four moons now. She wondered if she should go back - but the frustration and anger rose in her chest again, threatening to overwhelm her. How could she return home with nothing? She had to keep going. She had to - but she shook her head, feeling tears rise in her eyes. But did she really have to? Even with Acorn clinging to her back, she was so lonely. She missed Sunflower most of all, and regretted leaving her in the manner she had. She hadn’t said goodbye to anyone besides Sunflower, and she knew her mother must be worried sick about her. She sat down and closed her eyes, listening to the trees sway around her. Maybe - maybe she would head back towards the Summit. Maybe she would find her answers on the way home.

[Vinson]

Because you don't tell me everything
I ask you again
And you say nothing
Because you don't tell me everything
I ask you again
And you say nothing

Cloud had been travelling for several moons, but she had been meandering, wandering, moving slowly. Now that she had something to go towards, to look forward to, she found herself picking up pace and moving more quickly - with purpose. She almost regretted her decision to turn back, but she knew her heart was aching too much. Spring was returning to the mountains and slowly melting the snow, and Cloud wanted to try and get back as soon as possible. She had missed a large portion of her training - she was nearly fifteen moons old now, and if she had stayed, she was likely to be a trail runner and not a timber. Acorn had grown big and strong and happy, and while she was glad for his companionship, he wasn't a cat. She couldn't hold a conversation with him, or ask him for advice, or share prey. Every night she drifted to sleep thinking of Sunflower, imagining that she was curled up in her makeshift nests with her, and her thought often wandered to Sunflower whenever there was a dull moment on the trail. What was she doing now? Where had she put her passion and her lust for life? Cloud had taken the easy route out and left - left Sunflower alone in that cave with Huckleberry and grieving the loss of a big portion of her livelihood. She regretted it every minute. But there had been a sign! Cloud was conflicted. Had she done the wrong thing for the right reason? She had found no sign of her father, or any other cats, for that matter. She had not found her answers. There had been no other signs. And instead of finding herself in the forest like she had hoped, Cloud felt even further from herself than she had at home.
Despite her wandering thoughts and worries, the pair made quick progress back through the woods towards the Summit. It was here, in the early morning when light was just beginning to filter through the pines, that Cloud saw the butterfly again. She stopped and stared, mesmerized by its bright colors. She hadn't seen her butterfly since before it had given her the sign to leave, and narrowed her eyes questioningly at it. Why had it appeared now? Why had she been given no other signs for so many moons on her journey? Surely she hadn't misinterpreted it. The butterfly had been very clear - it had taken her back to the caves, sat a few seconds, and - Cloud's eyes went wide.
The butterfly had led her back home.
Cloud sat down on the mulchy forest floor and found herself crying. She had left for nothing? She had been wandering alone, for five moons now, when the sign had told her to stay? She choked out a sob and felt Acorn scurry along her shoulder, nuzzle his face into her cheek. She couldn't help but laugh, even though she felt so stupid and exhausted. Never before had she messed up this bad - not even when she had spooked that herd of deer and sent her patrol scattering for the trees. The butterfly had been telling her to stay, and she had turned right around and done quite the opposite. Of course it had been telling her to stay, she thought, sniffling and wiping tears from her eyes with a thick paw. She had a family at home. She had Sunflower. She had a purpose - and she had gone and thrown it all away because she thought finding her father, a nonexistent cat, was more important.
If nothing else, she thought, she had learned just how important her family, her friends, her clan, were to her. Cloud had felt like she never belonged, but that wasn't true. She was a dedicated timber, a devoted daughter, a loving friend. Her mother's mother was the centennial, for stars' sake! Her family loved her. Her mother loved her more than anything. She had felt that something was missing, but that missing piece was not her father or his heritage. That missing piece was her. And Cloud realized suddenly that she would not be returning home with nothing. She had found herself on her journey - just not in the way she had set out to do. She had survived alone in the wilderness during the winter, raised and nurtured another creature, and found out just what her body was capable of. She had always thought of herself as large and clumsy, but looking at her paws now, she saw a tough body - lean muscles and a sharp mind.

She realized with a start that those two cats were right. The answers were in her mind, not in the forest. She had not found her father, but she had found herself - within herself. With a final sniffle she rose from the ground, nudged Acorn onto her back, and loped off through the forest.
It was time to go home.
It took Cloud another quarter moon after finding the butterfly to reach the edge of the forest. The valley clearing was lush and green, shiver lake was glistening in the late afternoon sunlight. Flowers were beginning to bloom - spring was arriving. Cloud sat and watched the lake ripple, listened to familiar birdsong, felt the sun and a gentle breeze on her face. She was home - and her heart felt as warm as her pelt. She closed her eyes and stretched for a moment, felt Acorn's little paws dig into her back muscles. She wasn't quite sure how she would explain him, but Beetle had his rat that he found in the tunnels, and Grizzly had a dark raven - surely it wouldn't be too hard to keep him around? She flicked an ear and padded off in the direction of the camp.
"Stop there!" she heard a voice call as she approached the ruins, and Cloud flinched, startled. She had heard no other cats besides the two cryptic ones that had influenced her decision to head back. But she knew this voice.
"Mouse!" she called, stopping to stand still, swishing her tail back and forth. Acorn chattered nervously and slipped behind her shoulder, trying to hide. "It's me, Cloud!"
Cloud watched as Mouse's face turned from a look of wariness and defensiveness to shock and surprise. He gaped, turning to look behind him and then at Cloud again. "Cloud?" he asked incredulously, stepping forward hesitantly. "We thought - well," he scuffed a paw, looking down. Cloud knew. The clan had probably assumed she was dead. "You should - you should come see your mother," he murmured, hopeful. "She hasn't been the same since you disappeared."
There was a note of sadness in Mouse's eyes that Cloud instantly knew was her fault. She nodded, coming forward to brush Mouse's shoulder with her own, purring. "I'm sorry for leaving the way I did - and when I did. I thought it was what I had to do," she said quietly, twisting her tail in close to her side, casting her gaze away. She knew that the clan would never understand. Her family might have an inkling of an idea about why she left and what she was looking for, but she knew that she would have to work to earn their forgiveness. "I won't ever leave again. You can even put me down in the tunnels to keep me from running off if that's what it takes," she joked, and purred again as Mouse laughed. Everyone knew she hated the tunnels.
Cloud followed Mouse back to camp, and the pair paused at the entrance.
"There's been a few changes while you've been gone," Mouse said, digging her paws into the soft earth. "Blackberry died, and Columbine took her place. Honeysuckle is the trail runner's sheriff now," she explained, and Cloud felt her own expression now turning to one of shock. Columbine? Lark's sister? But she was so young! And her own mother a sheriff now...she shivered. There would be a lot to catch up on. A lot of stories to listen to, tales of her own to tell. But first -
Sunflower padded out of the tunnel, squinting in the heavy afternoon sunlight. "Did you get that root I asked for, Mouse?" she asked, blinking, and Cloud stared in awe. She was even more beautiful than when she had left, and Cloud felt tears rise to her eyes once more.
"No," Mouse responded, a purr of amusement in her throat. "But I found something else that I think you'll appreciate even more."