"It would have accomplished a lot. Then we wouldn't be dealing with any of this," he growled roughly, "because we could've ended them before he was so attached." Certainly, he did not understand what must possess a cat to motivate them to act like this; he understood violence, but not love. If Lionpride had violent tendencies to kill and main, he might take it easier on him, but a sudden fit of murderous rage because, what, his mate died of natural causes? It made no sense to the hardened initiate. "At the very least, if he still attacked, I would have been there to protect you. To do my job and keep you safe."

Singedwolf pulled away from her then, lest she feel the slight tremble running through him at his words. He was angry with her for not letting him defend her, for always putting herself in danger, for not listening to him... and more than that, he was upset with himself for leading her unprotected again. It wasn't just that he hadn't done his job, though he would prefer it if she believed that; when he heard what happened to her, when they told him they weren't sure she'd survived, he'd been gutted. The grizzled old tom hadn't felt fear for another cat in a very long time, but despite knowing she had extra lives, he had been almost inconsolable when he heard she might be dying. He stared away from her, working his clenched jaw against the strange emotions inside of him, fighting to suppress them.

Singedwolf didn't give a damn about her son's feelings. He should feel guilty after what he did, and he should be grateful too: if the initiate had been there he would never have let him get close enough to hurt Littlestar, and if he had his way, they would have dealt with that little problem long before it became an issue. His worthless mate had brought nothing but distress to the clan and they should have taken her out when they had the chance. She was gone now, but now after dealing as much damage as she could.

"Unpredictable, but preventable," he insisted, turning his face slightly further away in refusal to let her comfort him."If I had been there, I could have dealt with that hardship. But you've been pushing me too far away lately, you're leaving me to guard dens instead of you." His whiskers flared at the memory of how humiliating it had been to guard Satinpaw and deal with Nikkohydrangea's antics. "If you're done with me, then sign me up for initiation, and let's be done with this." They'd been putting it off for far too many moons now, but eventually, he had to face the gods. Singedwolf had no qualms that he would fail miserably, but at least then he would go out fighting. How many Janus would he take down with him? They had the numbers, but most of them were young and untrained. He fancied his chances.

"Protect me?" he spat scornfully, his lip quivering as he met her eyes, his own stretched wide to the panicked whites. He was useless, he was angry, and he was shaken to the core. He was never comforted by other cats, he never let them close enough to touch him, and his rapid breathing hitched as she refused to let him escape, flee like a goddamn coward. No fighter turned their back on a fight, ran for the hills instead of facing their demons, but he was oh so tempted. He'd fled a clan once already, he could do it once again, until finally with a little rasp in his throat he realized he couldn't. How many times since he came to this clan had he considered running off, living out the rest of his short life alone? He could hunt and fight for himself, he didn't need the protection of a clan, he could retire and sulk beneath some bitter tree and bring down death on any traveler that so much as looked at him funny. A quiet life by himself, and yet he had never convinced himself to leave.

As much as he hated it, loathed the way the truth itched at his skin, he couldn't leave her. He had protected her for so long, the last remnant of his leader, he had nothing else. She was everything he despised in himself, the weakness that would kill him, and she was his everything. More of a father than her own, and maybe she was his daughter now, and it was a dagger to the heart to know he'd fallen for this trap. He cared for her to the point she could manipulate him so easily, so clearly, and he was powerless to resist even as he saw it coming.

"It's my job to keep you safe, little bird," he repeated again in a low growl, his breathing finally falling back under control as he tore himself free of her grasp, shooting a baleful look at her over his shoulder. "I don't need your protection. But you're right about one thing... you don't need me either. Maybe you haven't for a while." His mouth twisted again, the burned half twitching madly. She was sleeping in a viper's nest but he couldn't protect her from gods and armies and arrogance.

It took every fiber of his self-control not to buck her off the instant she attacked him, and he only restrained himself because he worried about exacerbating her injuries. If she did not need his protection and would not listen to his advice, why should he stay and watch her crumble? He could not bring himself to leave her before, but he'd been practicing; a few weeks at a time, venturing into the unknown, he'd been on the hunt.

But his prey had found him.


"Littlestar? I don't mean to interrupt," apologized Myriadwolf hastily, dipping his head to the leader as he poked his head into the den, "but I have someone here. He said he wanted to join SunClan, so I thought I'd bring him straight to you?" Flashing a smile, the speckled grey tom backed away from the entrance, and the light was blotted out by a looming massive shadow. Singedwolf was a tall cat, but the newcomer was larger than even he, burly and built like a mountainside, almost inhumanely immense. His paws were dark and heavy as boulders, his strapping shoulders broad as tree trunks. As he prowled into the den he had to lower his head to show his glittering beady eyes and cruel hooked mouth. Fur dark as ash swept over his toned body, interspersed with dashes of lighter grey, and his tiny eyes were sharp yellow.

Inclining his head minutely, his predatory gaze swept over the pair and the corners of his mouth twitched up in a ghastly smile. "I wish to become one of you, if you will have me," Mountain announced, his voice gritty like stones breaking.

To his credit, the rogue didn't react to the strangeness of their situation, though he doubtless was storing the information away. "I have been gone from the clans for many a moon," he said, his words methodical and emotionless as if he'd been coached on what to say. "When I returned to my homeland, I discovered WinterClan had weakened. The cats I met told me tales of the glory of the Sun, of His strength and power, and they told me it is an honor to serve Him. I will pledge my strength to His clan so He may spread His influence far and wide." His front legs shifted awkwardly and crumbled beneath him as he fell into a deep bow, his chin nearly brushing the dust.



Just being in his presence leeched the strength from Singedwolf. The initiate trembled with hatred and fury the likes of which the leader had never seen before, a resentment etched into every line of his worn face, but he was trapped and powerless inside this room beneath her. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do, to dissuade her from admitting this monster to her clan. Mountain may be laid bare before them but he didn't believe for a second a word he said; his brother had always thought himself the god, he would never bend to worship another deity, he would never do any of this. He wasn't sure if it was lust for conquest that drew him in now, or if he had merely come to ruin the initiate's life, but he knew the tom brought no good tidings with him. Littlestar was not so naive now, she must see through him, but would she turn away such a powerful ally?

Mountain regained his paws in sync with the initiate and loomed over him, his smile suddenly sincere. "Singedwolf and I go way back. We grew up in the clan together." He prowled on to close the distance between them and reached up, cradling the tom's face in one massive paw. His claw skimmed lightly over the burned, puckered skin, tracing its progress from the corner of that twisted mouth to underneath his eye. "I knew him before this misfortune fell upon him. I could tell you so many secrets," he smiled slightly, "so many tales of his bleeding heart and the trouble it used to bring him. I am so glad to see him again after all these moons."

Mountain threaded his claws through the initiate's whiskers, tugging at them as he set his paw back on the ground.

"After all this time, you must have many stories of him as well. I would be so glad to hear them. Perhaps we can get to know each other better."


Singedwolf was stiff throughout, his neck craned awkwardly in the large rogue's grasp. He loathed touch and refused anyone except the leader to lay a paw on his scars, and even she was admitted grudgingly. He was paralyzed by the Mountain, completely powerless to pull away from him, and the fight was sapped from his muscles. Breathing hard as he was released, he backed off a step and refused to meet Littlestar's gaze.

"Your father would have loved him if they had known each other well," he said simply. "Mountain was always a force."