Chapter 6 – Smudge

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Chapter 6
Smudge

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♣

The cold morning wind brushed against firestar’s fur as she moved through the damp undergrowth.

The name escaped her lips like a sigh trapped between the trees.

It wasn’t a thought. It wasn’t a deduction. It was something older. More intimate.

A memory that his soul recognized before his mind did.

“Smudge…”

The stranger, because he was no longer a kittypet, not with that rough and dirty fur, with those paws hardened by the dust of the forest, blinked. His body lowered its guard just a bit, the stiffness in his legs trembled… but did not disappear.

“Firepaw?” he asked, his voice hoarse, filled with disbelief. His eyes widened, as if the reality in front of him couldn’t fit with the image he held.

Firestar did not respond. His paws still clung to the thrush as if by instinct, but the bird no longer mattered. Neither did the hunt, the threat, nor the anger that had burned under his skin before. It all dissolved in a second.

Because his mind… his mind had been torn from the present.

He returned to the white fence.

To the yards with freshly cut grass.

To the warmth of the cement on his puppy paws, to the sweet perfume of the flowers and the deep voice of the rolling monsters beyond the garden.

He saw himself again with short and clean fur, a round belly, and eyes full of dreams that didn’t hurt yet. That puppy who didn’t know how to hunt or fight but believed that the forest was more than danger.

But that memory lasted only a moment, as he heard Smudge’s voice again.

Smudge blinked several times. His gaze traveled up and down the body of the cat in front of him, trying to match what he saw with what he remembered. The color was the same. The eyes, although harder, were the same. But the body… that body was no longer that of a yard puppy. It was muscular, toughened by the life of the forest. There were scars. Posture. Determination.

And yet…

“Is it you?” he stammered, taking a leap backward, his hind legs slipping on the wet earth. “Is it you, Firepaw?”

Firestar blinked.

The mention of that name, Firepaw, brushed his heart like a paw covered in moss. It didn’t hurt. But it made him remember.

The apprentice.

The first time he felt his life truly belonged to something.

“No,” he said softly, barely raising his voice. “I am no longer Firepaw.”

Smudge tilted his head, confused. His ears turned toward her with bewilderment, as if he didn’t understand the words.

“So, you’re not you?”

Firestar let out a short, dry laugh, but sincere. He stepped forward calmly and, without warning, gave him a slight tap on the ear with one of his front paws.

Smudge took a step back, surprised, but then let out a hoarse meow that seemed like a mix of laughter and gasping.

“Hey!”

“Yes, it’s me,” said Firestar, his voice a little warmer now, though still with a hint of weariness. “It’s just that now… I am called Firestar.”

Smudge opened his mouth. He closed it again.

“Fire… star?”

Firestar nodded.

Silence fell between them again for a moment, but it was no longer tense. It was more like a soft mist that enveloped the scene, filled with memories that neither of them knew how to touch without breaking.

“That sounds like… like a wild cat name,” Smudge finally said, lowering his voice a bit.

“It is,” he replied.

“And… does that mean…?”

“I am the leader of my Clan,” said Firestar, finishing the sentence for him. His gaze fell to the thrush under his paws. He had caught it to feed his body… and now he realized that, in some way, he had also been drawn to feed his soul. With an unexpected chat. With a face from the past that he never thought he would see again.

Smudge sat down slowly, as if his legs had become heavier, and let out another hoarse, deep laugh, as if the sound came from the depths of his chest unwillingly. His body, though still thin and tense, seemed to relax for the first time since he appeared among the bushes.

Firestar rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling. With an almost automatic gesture, he lifted a paw and gave him another slight tap on the ear.

“Hey!” Smudge protested between laughs. “You’re taking advantage now. I’m still your friend, remember?”

“For now,” he joked. “If you keep trying to steal prey in my territory, I might change my mind.”

Smudge snorted and sat down, tilting his head as he looked at him. His fur was tangled, his ribs somewhat visible, but his eyes… his eyes still had that warm glow that took him back to another life.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he admitted with a smile. “And much less like this. A real wild cat. With scars, a serious gaze, and all.”

“And you…” Firestar narrowed his eyes, looking down at the thrush under his paws. “You shouldn’t be stealing food from this forest. If you’re still a kittypet, you can’t take prey from here. Especially not now. We’re running low.”

Smudge sighed, and this time his smile faded. Not pained, but resigned.

“I’ve noticed,” he said honestly. “Believe me, Firestar, I’m not here on a whim. I just… needed to eat.”

He looked at him more closely. Something in his tone had changed. It no longer sounded like easy laughter or harmless mischief. It was something else. Something deeper.

“Needed?” he repeated in a lower tone. “You?”

Smudge lowered his gaze, and for the first time since he saw him, his posture seemed to shrink.

“I have kittens.”

The silence that followed was as heavy as the mist on a moonless dawn.

Firestar blinked.

“What?”

Smudge looked up and laughed nervously.

“Yes… yes, I know. It sounds weird. Me having kittens. But… well, things changed.”

Firestar sat down, the thrush forgotten between his paws.

“Are your two-legs taking care of them?”

He shook his head.

“They left. Moons ago. They left me. They closed the door and never came back. At first, I didn’t know what to do. I wandered the alleys… then the edges of the forest. And that’s where I met her.”

Firestar tilted his head.

“A stranger?”

Smudge nodded.

“She lives on the outskirts of no Clan’s territory. She has always been free. Kind, strong…” he lowered his voice a bit, as if he still couldn’t believe it. “And yes, we had a litter. Three. We gave them simple names. Not as epic as yours.”

A smile twisted Firestar’s lips.

“And you’re raising them?”

“Yes… well, at least as best as I can,” replied Smudge. “She and I take turns hunting. But sometimes… it’s not enough. I didn’t eat last night. I haven’t eaten today either. And when I saw that thrush, I thought I could catch it. I didn’t know you were already after it. If I had known… well, I would have run away. You were always faster than me.”

Firestar lowered her gaze, her expression softening.

“I still am.”

Firestar looked down at the thrush under her paws. The breeze slightly moved the feathers on its wings, as if the prey were still breathing, as if the world refused to let go of the life it once contained.

She sighed.

A long, deep sigh that carried not only the weariness of the body but also the weight of all the decisions that came with her name.

“I’m glad to see you, Smudge,” she said finally, without taking her eyes off the bird. “Truly. You have no idea how much.”

Smudge tilted an ear, and although he didn’t respond immediately, the gleam in his eyes spoke for itself.

But Firestar lifted her head, and when she looked at him, she was no longer just his old friend. She was a leader. She was the guardian of her Clan.

“But I need to ask you something.”

Smudge slightly inclined his head, attentive.

“You, your mate… and your kittens,” she added with emphasis, as if saying it out loud made it weigh more. “You need to leave the forest.”

Smudge’s expression changed immediately. It wasn’t anger, nor even surprise. It was something more akin to resignation. A gesture that said I already knew.

“I can’t protect them,” Firestar continued. “I won’t send patrols after you. Not while I’m aware. But if another Clan finds you, they will attack without hesitation. They won’t doubt. They won’t ask if you’re hungry or if there are kittens hiding. They will only see outsiders in their territory.”

Smudge looked down for a moment, letting a dry leaf get tangled between his paws before speaking.

“I know,” he murmured.

The tone wasn’t defeated, but it was laden with a sad understanding.

“Then why are you here?” Firestar asked, softly but firmly.

Smudge looked up, and a mischievous spark lit up his eyes.

“Precisely because of that.”

Firestar narrowed her eyes, puzzled.

“Because of what?”

Smudge smiled.

“Because if I was going to risk hunting something, I had to do it in the territory of someone who wouldn’t break my back at first sight.”

And he stuck out his tongue.

“And it turns out that someone is you!”

Firestar huffed, incredulous, and with a quick movement, she gave him another tap on the ear, this time a little harder. Not as punishment. As a response. As the friend who still remained under the leader’s mantle.

Smudge covered his head with a paw, feigning drama.

“Ouch! That hurt!”

“You deserved it,” she growled, though there was no longer any harshness in her voice. “Fool.”

He laughed softly, rubbing his ear.

“See? That’s what happens when you trust friends.”

Firestar flicked her tail, containing a smile that threatened to betray her firmness.

“Don’t hunt here anymore, Smudge. Don’t put your family in danger. This forest is already wounded enough to bear more mouths.”

“I know,” he repeated with a sigh. “I just needed to secure one more meal for tonight. Tomorrow… we’ll move a little further away.”

Firestar growled, her body still tense as she watched Smudge take the thrush in his teeth with a smile that shouldn’t be there. He was breaking the rules, and he knew it.

But before she could say a word, Smudge spoke up, setting the prey aside for a moment.

“I can take you to see them,” he said suddenly, as if he had been holding back the urge for a while. “My litter, I mean. Do you want to see them?”

Firestar blinked, confused.

“See them?”

Smudge tilted his head.

“You brought Prince’s son, right? The one who is now called Cloudtail. That’s what Prince told me.”

Firestar narrowed her eyes. The mention of Cloudtail made her take half a step back, by reflex.

“Smudge…” she began, in a low tone. “I won’t take one of your kittens if you can’t care for them.”

“What?! Smudge huffed, slightly ruffling his fur. “I would never give you one of my kittens.”

Firestar frowned, but before she could speak, he approached calmly and slid the tip of his tail across her muzzle.

“At least not without your permission… and your consent,” he murmured, with an evident spark in his gaze.

Firestar growled in response, turning her head away. She noticed that expression: that damn flirtatious look Smudge had when he knew he was pushing the limits. And as always, it worked.

She averted her eyes, trying to maintain her composure.

Smudge noticed that she wasn’t walking with him. He stopped, looked at her over his shoulder, then came back to her with a smooth step. With a slow gesture, he licked her cheek.

“Come on, for old times’ sake,” he purred. “Let me introduce you to my family. Just for a moment. I’m not asking you to adopt them. Just… I want you to see them. I trust you, Firestar. I always have.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. She could smell the sincerity in his voice, even though it was wrapped in that light humor of his. And her heart ached a little more than she thought it would.

She sighed.

“Alright. Just this once,” she said finally, in a low tone. “You can take the prey. But just this one. Steal from the River Clan next time. And make sure your kittens don’t leave wherever you have them hidden. If another Clan sees them…”

“They won’t,” he interrupted her with a calm smile. “She keeps them safe. I only trust you to come close.”

Smudge moved closer and, without asking, brushed his tail against hers.

“I knew my charm with the lovely ladies would never fail me,” he purred.

Firestar growled loudly and, without warning, lunged at him and bit his neck. Not hard, but enough to make him let out a nervous yelp.

“Stop, stop!” he complained between laughs. “My mate will get mad!”

“Good,” she murmured, and letting him go, she couldn’t help but laugh for the first time in days.

Smudge looked at her with bright eyes.

“Now, let’s go.”

Firestar felt the brush of Smudge’s tail against hers as they walked together along the hidden path among roots and leaves. Although she didn’t pull away immediately, she eventually shook her tail with a sharp movement, giving him a small nudge on the side.

“Don’t get too excited,” she growled, though her tone held no real anger.

“Too late,” Smudge replied, smiling with his whiskers curved.

Firestar let out a low huff, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. It had been so long since she shared a walk without the burden of leadership, without the weight of decisions. Without judging eyes watching her from behind the brambles. Just two cats walking among trees and damp earth.

“I didn’t think I’d find you like this,” Smudge said. “Turned into a real forest cat. A leader, even.”

“I didn’t think so either, to be honest.”

“And how is it?”

Firestar looked up at the sky. The sun barely pierced the clouds, casting a soft light that colored the foliage a grayish blue. The wind smelled of moss, fresh leaves, and damp branches. It was the scent of the forest, yes. But not of home.

“Exhausting,” she replied. “More than I imagined when I was an apprentice.”

“And do you like it?”

“Sometimes. Other times, I just… do it.”

Smudge nodded. They both walked in silence for a while, crossing a narrow stream whose stones slipped. Smudge made a small, clumsy jump and almost fell, making Firestar laugh softly.

“Not all of us have the balance of a warrior,” he protested.

“You didn’t even have balance in the garden,” she replied, amused. “Remember when you tried to climb the hedge and ended up in the feeder?”

“That was because you pushed me!”

“That was because you weighed more than a badger.”

Smudge feigned indignation, shaking his wet paws.

“That was moons ago. I’m much more agile now. Watch this.”

He tried to make a quick turn between two roots and ended up catching a paw. He tripped, fell sideways, and lay on the ground, panting.

Firestar burst into laughter.

“Yes, very agile,” she huffed, flicking her tail.

“I’m out of practice!” he retorted, getting up with feigned dignity. “But at least I’m still charming.”

“I won’t argue with that,” she admitted, still smiling.

“Seriously, I needed to see a good friend,” she added, more seriously. “All the mess in the Clan has been making me too tense.”

“Problems?”

“Many. Warriors arguing among themselves, apprentices who don’t listen, leaders of other clans getting tenser. And on top of that…” Firestar let out a sigh, her gaze lost in the golden light falling through the branches.

“On top of that?” Smudge insisted, walking beside her with a relaxed stride.

She hesitated. Her whiskers barely moved, and for a moment, she said nothing. Only the distant song of a blackbird broke the soft silence of the forest. It was a quiet afternoon, the kind of calm she hadn’t found in her camp for many moons.

“It’s just… there are two warriors in my Clan,” she said finally. “And I think they like me.”

Smudge turned his head toward her without hurry, without surprise.

“Oh?”

Firestar nodded, lowering her gaze uncomfortably.

“I’m not sure. Sometimes they look at me differently. As if they expect me to say something. To approach. But… I don’t know. I try to keep doing my thing, stay firm, but…”

She paused. Her ears twitched restlessly, but she didn’t seem embarrassed. Just uncertain. Smudge said nothing, giving her space to continue.

“Lately, I’ve been feeling… weird. Like my body is acting on its own. Like I can’t help but notice that… I’m close to those days.”

“Those days?” Smudge blinked, then understood. “Ah.”

She pressed her lips together and quickly shook her head.

“Forget it. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“Because we’re in the forest, not in the middle of the camp,” he said calmly. “And because I’m Smudge. You used to tell me everything when we were kits.”

Firestar let out a soft laugh. The tension eased from her back.

“That was different.”

“Why? Because you have an imposing name now?”

“Because now I have to stay in control,” she replied, without harshness. “Sometimes I just want… to rest for a moment. To be just Fireheart, or Firepaw, not the leader. Having a name that ends in ‘Star’ makes things more complicated, you know?”

Smudge nodded.

“I understand… I think. But don’t worry, you can relax now. No clans. No rules. Just… us.”

Firestar glanced at him sideways. The breeze gently rustled her whiskers, and Smudge’s tone, so calm, so sincere, softened something inside her chest.

“Thank you,” she murmured, letting that word breathe between them.

Smudge nodded, content. But then his expression changed, and with a mischievous smile, he tilted his head.

“By the way… speaking of ‘control’.”

“Now what?” she asked, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.

“It shows that you’re eating well.”

“What?”

“You look a little rounder,” he said with a mischievous smile. “In a good way, of course. Very… well-fed warrior.”

Firestar stopped, giving him a soft swat with her tail on the side.

“Smudge!”

“I said it with affection!” he laughed, dodging the second hit.

“Don’t say that,” she huffed, though laughter was already winning her over. “I’m not fat.”

“No, no. Of course not. You’re… strategically cushioned.”

“You’re a fool!”

“But adorable,” he added, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.

She nudged him with her shoulder, not holding back. He pretended to stumble, exaggerating a couple of steps as if he had almost fallen.

“Oh, no! The great Firestar knocked me down. Call a medicine cat!”

“Enough,” she laughed, moving forward again.

But Smudge didn’t stop. He started walking closer to her side, giving her small nudges with his tail. Just a brush, enough to annoy without bothering.

Firestar turned with an arched eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just checking if that ‘powerful structure’ holds firm.”

She hit him again, this time harder.

“Smudge!”

“I’m testing your balance! Isn’t that leader training?”

“And what do you know about that?”

“More than you imagine,” he replied with a teasing tone.

They kept walking, but now Firestar had her tail slightly raised, as if wanting to warn him. Smudge, on the other hand, took light steps, like an apprentice plotting mischief. It wasn’t a game. Not entirely. But there was something playful in his movements, in the way he looked at her between branch and branch, as if he wanted to challenge her to smile more.

And it worked.

“You know what I like about you, Firestar?” he said suddenly.

She looked at him with suspicion.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“That no matter how much you try to pretend you’re serious all the time, you can’t help but laugh.”

“You make me laugh,” she replied without thinking, and then bit her tongue.

Smudge stopped.

“That was… nice.”

Firestar hit him with her tail again.

“Shut up.”

“You’re getting fond of me!”

“I’m tolerating you, which is different.”

“That sounds like true love!”

“Don’t put words in my mouth!”

“Never!” he laughed, trotting forward.

The path between the trees was narrow, bordered by tall ferns and dotted with shadows that danced between the sun’s rays. Every crunch of dry leaves under their paws mixed with the murmur of a stream ahead. Firestar, without noticing, allowed herself to enjoy it.

The song of a robin sounded above. Smudge raised an ear.

“Remember when you tried to climb the tree in the garden?”

Firestar snorted.

“And do you remember that you fell on top of me?”

“I was cushioning your fall!”

“You were crushing me.”

“Details,” he purred, and gave her another little nudge on the side with his tail.

She no longer responded. She just huffed… and smiled.

The air was fresh, and the trees closed in ahead, letting the light through in soft lines. It was as if the forest knew she needed this moment. A piece of what she had lost when she left the white fence behind.

“Thank you for this,” she murmured suddenly.

Smudge looked at her sideways, surprised.

“For what?”

“For not treating me like a leader.”

“That’s because I never knew how,” he said, shrugging. “To me, you’ll always be the Firepaw who thought she was brave when she ran across the street.”

“And you’ll always be the one who cried when the monsters made too much noise.”

“That was one time!”

“It was several times.”

“Liar!”

She laughed harder this time. And for the first time in many moons, that laughter was sincere, clean, with no weight behind it.

And Smudge, without saying another word, let her enjoy it.

Silence settled between the two with an unexpected softness, like a leaf falling onto water. There were no more laughs or playful nudges, only the sound of branches crackling in the distance and the whisper of the wind through the high leaves.

Firestar lowered her gaze and watched the ground beneath her paws. A few blades of grass bent softly in the breeze. She smiled, and for the first time that afternoon, her smile was different. Small. A little sad. A little… sincere.

“My Clan would never forgive me for this,” she murmured.

Smudge looked at her curiously.

“Why?”

She let out a long sigh.

“Because you make me want to be a kittypet again. Sometimes… I miss when everything was so simple. Eat, sleep, run without thinking about rules or wars.”

Smudge stopped. He looked at her with something more than laughter in his eyes. He took a couple of steps and, without saying a word, approached her.

Firestar noticed him stop.

“Is something wrong?”

He carefully set the prey down on the ground. He moved closer. And, without asking, he gently licked her neck.

Firestar closed her eyes for a moment, relaxing her body. A small smile formed on her face, warm and grateful. She leaned toward him and, tenderly, licked the top of his head, between his ears.

Then Smudge, playful as always, lightly bit her neck.

“Nooo, no Smudge,” Firestar laughed, halfway between a whisper and a purr.

But he insisted, rubbing his head against her chest, entwining his tail with hers. The air between them grew denser, more intimate, more real.

“For years…”, Smudge murmured, without lifting his head, “I waited for you to come back. You chased me out of the forest years ago… and yet, I waited for you to come back.”

Firestar froze. It was as if the forest itself had fallen silent, as if the branches had stopped moving and even the wind held its breath.

Her ears tilted back, not out of discomfort, but out of something harder to name. Pain, perhaps. Guilt.

She opened her eyes slowly, as if she had just awakened from a dream she didn’t know she was having. Then she looked at him. Really looked at him. Not as the jokester who always made her laugh, nor as the old friend who had stolen smiles from her in a difficult moment.

She looked at him as the cat who had waited for her.

Smudge lifted his face. Their eyes met. And for the first time during that long walk, there was no mockery in his. There was no mischief or playfulness. Only that rare, silent connection that needed no words to be understood.

He moved his tail slowly and entwined it with hers, this time without hiding it. It was a firm gesture. Warm. Decisive.

“Seriously… I’m happy to see you alive,” he whispered. “Sometimes I feared I wouldn’t see you again. Or that one day I’d find out from another cat that… you had died. And I wouldn’t have even known in time.”

Firestar swallowed. She felt something inside her chest loosen. She didn’t know how to respond to him. The words stuck in her throat.

In Smudge, there was something new. Or maybe it had always been there, and she was only seeing it now without the veils of habit.

“Smudge…”, she said softly, and her voice trembled a little. Not out of weakness, but out of sincerity she wasn’t used to showing.

He blinked at hearing his name said like that. His gaze softened, and he looked down immediately. His ears turned red right away, contrasting with his black and white fur. And, without thinking, he raised a paw to cover his face, turning his head to the side.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Smudge murmured, half-hidden behind a paw, his voice barely audible.

Firestar couldn’t help but smile. Not just any smile, but one of those slow and deep ones that come from within. Warm, like a ray of sun filtering through the morning mist.

She gave him a little nudge with her paw on the side.

“What? Getting shy now?”

Smudge lowered his ears even more, shaking his head awkwardly. He didn’t respond. Instead, he moved his tail with evident nervousness and, without saying a word, turned to continue along the path.

Firestar narrowed her eyes mischievously.

“Oh no. Come here!”

He looked back, and just then, as if the forest conspired, a twisted branch jutted out from the ground. Smudge stepped right on it, let out a huff, and lost his balance in an undignified stumble.

“Watch out!” Firestar exclaimed, instinctively lunging to grab him by the scruff of his neck.

But the momentum was too fast. They both fell into the ferns, tumbling in a mix of paws, loose dirt, and leaves.

The world stopped when they landed in a hidden clearing under the trees, covered in soft, fresh moss. Smudge ended up on his back, dazed, with his whiskers full of twigs.

Firestar landed on top of him, her paws on either side of his chest, her face just inches from his.

And then… they looked at each other.

The silence of the forest enveloped them completely. The soft shadows of the leaves danced over their bodies. Their noses almost touched, barely intentionally. Their breaths mingled.

Smudge didn’t move. Neither did she.

Firestar could feel his heart beating against his chest, or maybe it was her own, pounding harder than she expected. It was as if, for a brief moment, everything that had been weighing her down over the past moons dissolved in that clearing. As if her body, without her command, allowed itself to rest. And in her chest, where there had only been responsibility before, she felt something different.

A small warmth. Strange. Warm. Like when someone brushed against her back in a wordless gesture and everything seemed right, if only for a moment.

Smudge let out a small laugh, shaking his tail beneath her.

“You’re still the Rusty I knew.”

Firestar narrowed her eyes, half-amused.

“Firestar.”

“But you’re still you.”

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she slowly lowered her gaze, noticing how close they still were. Then she got up, carefully supporting herself so as not to crush him further. Smudge mimicked her, shaking the moss off his back, with a small leaf stuck between his whiskers.

As she stood up, Firestar felt her body lighter. As if something inside her, a silent pressure she had been carrying for moons, had finally eased. She breathed better. And for some reason, a part of her didn’t want that moment to end.

Smudge walked a few steps back, retraced his steps, and, with his tail, picked up the thrush they had left behind during the fall.

“Here it is,” he said, offering it to her with a gentle nudge of his nose. “You take it. We’re almost there.”

Firestar looked at him curiously.

“Where exactly?”

Smudge tilted his head, purring softly.

“Nearby. Just follow me.”

They walked in silence for a while longer. The forest grew denser, with branches hanging lower and ferns growing thick. The air felt cooler, as if they were descending slightly. Smudge suddenly stopped just before a curtain of bushes.

“Wait.”

He rolled in the damp earth, covering himself with dust and leaves. Then he shook himself a bit and started ruffling his fur with his paws. Firestar watched him with a raised eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“Emergency makeup. I can’t smell like I’ve been talking to a Clan leader.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit exaggerated?”

“Not if I want to keep the peace at home,” he purred. “Just play along, okay?”

“This is going to be weird.”

“It already is.”

And they both laughed.

Firestar couldn’t remember the last time she had felt like this. Light. Almost… happy. That walk, without patrols, without codes, without duties, was healing cracks she hadn’t noticed. Even if it was just for a little while.

“Come on,” Smudge said. “It’s this way. Just a few more steps.”

And Firestar, without saying another word, followed him through the thick bushes, her heart a little lighter.

They walked a few more steps. The ground became soft under their paws, covered in thick moss and damp earth. The trees stood taller here, and the ferns grew spaced but thick, hiding the paths. The air was filled with an ancient scent, a mix of roots, wet bark, and fermented leaves.

Smudge crouched first and slipped under a thick group of ferns. Firestar followed him stealthily, keeping low among the bushes without making a sound. She positioned herself to one side, sheltered between two lichen-covered trunks.

In front of them, half-camouflaged by fallen branches and disturbed earth, stood an ancient fox den. At first glance, it seemed uninhabited. There were no strong signs, just a faint trace of recent movement. A soft scent of recent life, almost imperceptible.

Smudge approached carefully and let out a low purr. It wasn’t his usual laughter or carefree tone. It was slow, warm, almost reverent.

Something moved from the entrance.

A small paw emerged first. Hesitant. Trembling. Then another, followed by bright little eyes that blinked against the light. It was a kitten.

And then, two more.

Three in total. Small, adorable, with fluffy fur and still a bit clumsy in their movements. They emerged from the den slowly, first cautious… but upon recognizing their father’s scent, they ran toward him, squeaking softly.

Smudge crouched down, purring loudly, as the kittens launched themselves at his paws, rubbed against his back, and one even tried to bite his tail like a little warrior.

Firestar, still hidden among the bushes, watched.

She remained completely still, her eyes narrowed.

There was something so… pure about that scene. The way Smudge lowered his head, how he wrapped his kittens with his tail, the purrs he shared with them… he was a father. Plain and simple. Without artifice. Without duties or responsibilities beyond those his heart had chosen.

And for a moment, Firestar blushed.

She felt that soft warmth that had nestled in her chest during the walk grow, expand, and rise to her throat.

Smudge turned his head slightly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye among the ferns. His gaze met hers, brief, fleeting… but enough. Firestar, caught in that exchange, immediately looked down, her face burning. She sank deeper into the branches, as if the moss could hide what she was feeling.

And just at that moment, a figure appeared from inside the den.

A cat.

With speckled, soft fur and warm eyes. She approached Smudge without saying a word at first, her movements calm and fluid. Without suspicion. With tenderness.

She stopped in front of him and, without speaking, rubbed her nose against his cheek. Then, she licked his forehead affectionately.

A simple gesture. Intimate. Full of love.

“How was the hunt today?” she asked softly. “Was it tough?”

Smudge didn’t respond immediately. He merely coughed softly, a barely audible signal. His kittens calmed down instantly, attentive to his tone. Everything about him had changed. His voice, his posture, even his silence. He was home.

Firestar remained there, among the bushes.

Watching.

And she felt something tighten in her chest.

Her ears lowered reflexively, and her tail tensed slightly on the ground. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t annoyance. It was… something else.

A warm, strange burn rose in her chest. And suddenly, her paws began to itch, as if she no longer knew whether to move forward or backward.

No. It can’t be.

It’s not jealousy.

Right?

Smudge swallowed and coughed lightly, shaking a leaf off his neck with his paw.

“Family,” he said, his chest puffed out as if he were a warrior returning from a great battle. “Look closely at my fur.”

His three kittens looked at him with round eyes, tilting their heads curiously.

“Why?” one of them asked in a small squeak.

“Because this time, my brave ones,” Smudge began, walking in circles around them, “your father has achieved something epic. I hunted a large and delicious bird. Not just any bird. A fat, shiny, and succulent one!”

“Really?” the second one whispered, his eyes wide as moons.

“Yes, yes,” Smudge affirmed, wagging his tail. “But it wasn’t easy. Just as I was about to return, a large group of Clan cats emerged from the forest. They surrounded me. There were like ten of them! All growling, with their claws out.”

The speckled cat, his mate, let out a surprised sigh.

“Ten? Are you sure?”

“Maybe twelve,” he added, clearing his throat dramatically. “I had to fight. A great fight, leaping between bushes, rolling on the ground, claw against claw… But in the end, guess what.”

“What?” the three kittens said in unison.

Smudge stopped in front of them, his chest swollen with pride.

“Your father won.”

The kittens let out squeaks of admiration and surprise.

“And that’s not all!” Smudge added, raising his voice. “The Clan leader came in person. And do you know what he did?”

The cat looked at him with growing skepticism, but Smudge didn’t stop.

“He brought the bird in his mouth. He handed it to me as a sign of respect. He said, ‘In the name of our Clan, we will never bother you again. Hunt in peace, Smudge the Brave.'”

The kittens meowed with excitement. One of them even spun around, squeaking,

“Dad is a hero!”

“That’s right, that’s right,” Smudge purred with a smile. “Aren’t I great?”

“And the bird?” the cat asked, looking around.

“Ah… yes,” he murmured, suddenly sweating a little.

He turned toward the bushes and cleared his throat again.

“Firestar?”

Nothing.

Smudge coughed again, this time more forced.

“Firestar, come on! Don’t make me look bad…”

The kittens blinked, confused.

“Who is Firestar?” one whispered.

The speckled cat furrowed her brow, looking toward the bushes with a tenser posture.

“Smudge?”

“She’s just… a friend,” he replied, now a bit nervous. “Come on, Firestar! Come out!”

But there was no response.

“Don’t make me beg…” he muttered through his teeth.

From atop the den, right on the moss-covered part, a clear and calm voice interrupted him:

“Stop boasting, Smudge.”

Everyone turned instantly.

Firestar was there, lying on top of the den as if she had been resting the whole time. Her silhouette was outlined by the light filtering through the leaves, the thrush still between her paws, her eyes narrowed.

The kittens took a small jump backward, huddling against their father. The speckled cat narrowed her eyes, her body tensing immediately.

Smudge smiled nervously.

“Ah! There she is…”

Firestar looked down at them, then at the female, and their eyes met.

The tension was instantaneous.

There were no words between them.

Just a serious, firm gaze. Neither looked away.

Before the tension could grow any further, Smudge hurriedly approached the den, climbing up one side of the mound as if trying to distract everyone with his mere presence. He reached Firestar with an agile leap and, without giving her time to react, gently bit her ear.

“Play along!” he whispered urgently.

“Everything you said was a bunch of lies!” she murmured through her teeth, pulling away with a slight growl.

“Shhh! Improvise, Clan leader!” Smudge said, taking the thrush from between her paws before she could resist.

He climbed down carefully, carrying the prey dramatically, and offered it to his kittens as if it were a treasure. The little ones squeaked with excitement and pounced on it as if it were their first prey in moons.

Smudge exhaled deeply and, without embellishing his words further, turned to his family.

“This is Firestar,” he announced in a much more sincere tone. “Leader of ThunderClan.”

The kittens, still with mouths full of feathers and surprise, froze for a few seconds, their eyes wide.

“Really?” the smallest one mewed, slowly lifting his head.

“She’s huge!” another one squeaked.

“And strong! Look at those shoulders…” the third one added, staring at her as if trying to memorize her figure forever.

Firestar descended from the mound without hurry, with a natural elegance that contrasted with all the improvisation she had just witnessed. She didn’t say anything, just stopped next to Smudge and looked at him sideways. He returned a tight smile, as if silently apologizing.

“But…” one of the kittens said, turning to his siblings. “Dad beat her! Right?”

The silence was immediate.

The other two kittens looked at him, confused… and then, slowly, their tails rose, their whiskers lifted, and all three turned to their father in unison with eyes full of awe.

“Dad is stronger than a Clan leader!” one shouted, running in circles.

“Dad beat Firestar!” another one said, puffing out his chest as if he himself had participated in the imaginary fight.

“Dad is the best cat in the forest!” the three kittens chorused.

Smudge stood completely still for a second. And then, he slowly closed his eyes… and puffed up.

Literally.

His chest rose as if he had swallowed a gust of wind, his chin pointed to the sky, and a satisfied expression settled on his face as if it were his greatest honor.

“I’m not one to boast…” he said in a deep, dramatic voice, “but, well… when a legend lives with you…”

“Oh, for StarClan’s sake!” Firestar huffed, rolling her eyes.

The speckled cat, who until that moment had kept her alert gaze and remained silent, finally snorted with frustration, crossing one paw over the other.

Both cats looked at each other for a second. And, without speaking, they rolled their eyes at the same time, with such perfect synchrony that it could have stopped a storm.

“Has he always been like this?” the outsider asked, looking at Firestar.

“Since he was a kitten,” she replied with resignation.

“Lucky me.”

“And me.”

Both sighed.

And while Smudge continued to receive the unconditional love of his children, telling them how he had defeated “with one paw” three warriors at once, and how one of them still owed him an ear, Firestar sat silently by the entrance of the den.

For the first time in a long time, she didn’t have to be deciding anything. She didn’t have to speak as a leader. Just watch. Listen. And let herself be carried away by a part of the forest that didn’t appear on the territory maps.

Firestar stood up calmly and took a couple of steps toward the entrance of the den. She could still feel the kittens’ gazes on her back, but her eyes were on the speckled cat who didn’t stop watching her with a mix of wariness and curiosity.

“I’m Firestar,” she finally said in a calm voice. “Leader of ThunderClan.”

The other cat didn’t respond immediately. She blinked twice, her gaze dropping to Firestar’s orange fur as if searching for something in it.

“Bety,” she said at last. “My name is Bety.”

Firestar nodded, and between them, a brief silence was created, not tense, but filled with that sensation of measuring the ground.

“Where do you know Smudge from?” Bety asked frankly, without beating around the bush.

Firestar smiled, lowering her ears slightly.

“We’re old friends,” she said. “Before… I was also a kittypet.”

Bety’s eyes widened a bit more, and her expression turned into something between surprise and slight disbelief.

“You…? You’re the kittypet Smudge told me about? Firepaw?”

Firestar let out a soft, somewhat nervous laugh, shaking her head.

“Firestar,” she corrected with a smile. “But yes. That was me.”

The kittens, who had been sniffing the remains of the prey among squeaks, turned immediately. They looked at Firestar again, then at their father, and their eyes shone as if they had just discovered they lived with a celebrity.

One of the little ones approached with clumsy hops and sat in front of Firestar, looking at her very seriously.

“Is it true that Dad beat you?”

The question was so direct that even Smudge choked on a tiny piece of feather.

Firestar raised her eyebrows, looking at the kitten, then at Bety… and finally at Smudge, who shrugged as if he had no intention of helping.

She let out a low purr, and with a complicit smile, slowly let herself fall to the ground with her paws open, feigning weakness.

“Your father beat me in every possible way,” she said with feigned frailty. “I didn’t stand a chance.”

The kittens squeaked excitedly, running to hug Smudge, who was enjoying every second with his head held high.

“I knew Dad was stronger than any leader!” one meowed, while another climbed onto his back.

Smudge distributed pieces of the thrush carefully, licking each of their heads as they huddled around him.

Firestar shook off a bit of the dust from her paws and sat next to Bety, who was still watching her with some attention, as if still processing everything.

“Why do you let them eat prey from your Clan?” Bety asked suddenly, without accusation in her tone, but with genuine curiosity.

Firestar looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Ah. So you do know it’s wrong.”

Bety remained silent. She didn’t lower her gaze, but she didn’t respond either. She just let the weight of that truth hang between them.

Firestar sighed.

“I won’t lie to you. I’d prefer it if you returned to the Twoleg nests. There’s safety there, constant food. And no Clans to bother you because you’re in their territory.”

Bety furrowed her brow but didn’t interrupt.

“But…” Firestar added, looking at the kittens, “I see they’re still very small. They wouldn’t survive a moon of travel. So… for now, if you stay hidden around here, I won’t say anything. I won’t send patrols. But it won’t be forever.”

The mother nodded slowly, lowering her head slightly in gratitude.

“I understand. And I don’t intend to stay longer than necessary. Just until they grow a bit more.”

“Our Clan is also going hungry,” Firestar added, her gaze fixed on the kittens playing among the thrush’s feathers. “Taking care of so many cats at once isn’t easy.”

Bety let out a long sigh and turned her eyes to Smudge, who at that moment was trying to pull his tail out of the reach of two kittens clinging to it like brambles.

“Tell me about it,” Bety purred with resignation. “I have four little fools to take care of.”

Both cats looked at each other, and for the first time since they met, they shared an authentic laugh, free of judgment or tension.

“You chose it,” Firestar joked, moving her whiskers with amusement.

“I don’t deny it,” Bety replied, narrowing her eyes with a crooked smile. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to give him a smack or two on the head sometimes.”

“I already gave him a few on the way here,” Firestar added, shaking her tail. “So don’t worry, I got ahead of you.”

Bety laughed, but her smile didn’t last long. Something in Firestar’s tone didn’t sound entirely joking. There was a hint of closeness… too natural.

And it was right then that Firestar, without thinking too much, let something more out.

“The truth is, Smudge has always been like this. Annoying, clumsy, somewhat unbearable…” she said with a soft smile, glancing sideways at the outsider who was now pretending a kitten was beating him in a fight. “But he has a way of making everything feel more… easy. Even when life isn’t.”

Bety tilted her head slightly. Her smile faded.

“Aha,” she murmured. “And how long has it been since you last saw each other?”

“A lot of moons,” Firestar replied. “But when you know someone from kithood, you don’t need much to remember everything. I know how he moves when he lies. When he acts brave, when he’s nervous. When his whiskers tremble even though he smiles.”

Bety stopped looking at Smudge. Now she was observing Firestar directly.

“Wow,” she murmured. “You know him well.”

“I took care of him many times,” Firestar added, her tone soft, almost nostalgic. “Even when he said he could do it alone. He’s always been like that. He has a way of hiding things with a joke… but you have to know how to look beyond that. Smudge is stronger than he seems. More loyal than many believe.”

Bety didn’t respond.

Her posture remained firm, but the slight hardening of her eyes betrayed the small change. As if something inside her had gone on guard without her even wanting it.

And that’s when she noticed something more.

The way Firestar looked at Smudge.

It wasn’t just old affection. It wasn’t simple friendship.

It was a mix of tenderness and something deeper, something that hurt a little… something that burned.

“And what do you feel for him?” she asked, without changing her tone, without looking away.

Firestar blinked, somewhat surprised by the frankness.

It took her a moment to respond.

“I’m just… glad to see him well.” And she looked away. “I cared about him before I found out he was in the forest. And I still care.”

Bety narrowed her eyes, her voice lower, more thoughtful.

“Hadn’t you said you were only letting them stay because of the kittens?”

The question wasn’t venomous, but it did have a carefully placed thorn.

Firestar looked at her without hurry. She didn’t frown. She didn’t look away. She simply remained calm… as if she had already thought about that question long before hearing it.

Then, she turned her head toward Smudge.

He was laughing with his kittens, letting himself fall onto the moss as if the entire forest was his backyard. One jumped on his back. Another bit his ear. Smudge didn’t even defend himself.

Firestar watched him as if that scene both hurt and soothed her at the same time.

And then she spoke.

“I said it would be better if they left. But that was before I remembered why I came to this forest in the first place.”

She looked back at Bety, and in her eyes, there was no longer any doubt.

“As a leader… I’ve never hesitated to bring a stranger into my Clan if they showed valor and loyalty.”

She paused. Took a deep breath.

“And if I had to decide now,” she said, “I wouldn’t have any problem making an old friend a warrior. And thus… give him a better life.”

The silence that followed wasn’t calm.

It was tense. A sustained blink of the forest.

Bety remained still. Her expression didn’t change immediately, but something in her posture hardened. Her tail moved slowly from side to side. Her gaze was no longer curious. Now it was piercing.

The silence between them had grown thick, like the air before a storm. Firestar watched the kittens still playing with the thrush’s feathers, although her mind was already far away. Bety, on the other hand, wasn’t looking at her entirely. She pretended to, but her eyes kept shifting from Firestar to Smudge with subtle vigilance.

Then, the outsider spoke, her tone strange, soft, but with an edge underneath.

“Have you… ever thought about having kittens?”

The question caught Firestar off guard.

The cat blinked, her mouth opening slightly. And then, she looked down, a slight blush visible on her cheeks despite the firm tone she adopted.

“Me? Of course not,” she replied, almost with a laugh that didn’t quite reach full cheerfulness. “I couldn’t. Not now.”

Bety tilted her head slightly, as if she had already expected that response.

Firestar continued, her voice now a little lower, looking to the side.

“My Clan depends too much on me. Every decision, every patrol, every mouth to feed… it all goes through me. I don’t have time for… that.”

She paused.

“Besides,” she added, with a longer, more tired sigh, “we might have to move. Problems are growing. The forest is no longer safe. Borders are breaking, Clans no longer listen to each other. I don’t know how much longer we’ll last before something… changes. And if it does, it won’t be easy.”

Bety observed her.

And for the first time in that exchange… something in her gaze softened.

The mistrust was still there, but something different appeared: a small spark of understanding. Perhaps even a hint of pity.

Firestar, despite being the strong and respected figure she seemed to be, had cracks. Some were visible now, barely noticeable in her tone, in how her gaze no longer held the same firmness as before. It wasn’t weakness. It was fatigue. Real.

Bety lowered her ears slightly, and without saying a word, she approached. She brushed her cheek against Firestar’s in an unexpected gesture of closeness… but not entirely soft. Her fangs grazed her skin for a second. It wasn’t aggressive. It was a warning disguised as support.

“I’m good at hunting and fighting,” Bety murmured, purring with a low voice. “If I see any cat from another Clan around here, I’ll scare them off myself.”

Firestar raised her eyebrows, surprised.

“Really?”

“And if Smudge ever decides to join a Clan,” Bety added, with a barely hinted smile, “I don’t think he’ll be the only one with potential. I’m also good enough to be chosen. As are any of my three kittens.”

There was a pause.

Firestar looked at her. And smiled.

And Bety did too.

But their smiles didn’t reach their eyes.

They were kind. Warm on the surface.

But inside, they knew what they were saying.

Both knew that the moment between them wasn’t entirely friendly, but both were too smart to let it blossom into a fight. So the smiles were the neutral ground where the undeclared war stopped.

“You’re right,” Firestar said, maintaining her smile.

“Of course I am,” Bety replied, purring softly.

It was then that Smudge, as if he had been waiting for the moment to interrupt with his usual charming clumsiness, approached them with his typical carefree air.

“Yes, of course Bety is strong,” he agreed with a wide smile. “Brave too. Intelligent, determined… all of that.”

Bety looked at him sideways, a bit surprised by the sudden tone of praise.

But Smudge didn’t stop there.

“Although not stronger than me at night,” he added, lowering his voice with a playful purr. “Right, love?”

The silence that followed was dry.

Almost cutting.

Bety turned her head slowly, her eyes shining like two sharp stones in the forest light. She didn’t say a word. She just looked at him.

Smudge froze, his smile trembling a little.

“I… it was a joke,” he murmured, taking half a step back.

Bety didn’t respond.

Firestar, for her part, turned her head to hide a laugh she couldn’t entirely contain, covering her muzzle with her tail.

Smudge lowered his ears, huffing softly.

“Oh, come on… you can’t say anything here.”

But no one saved him from his mate’s gaze.

Firestar turned to Bety and looked at her with a certain calm, lowering her head slightly in acknowledgment. The atmosphere was no longer as tense as before. There was a silent respect, even if the two still didn’t fully share their trust.

“Thank you for your help,” Firestar murmured. “With that, we’d be even.”

Bety nodded, not entirely lowering her guard, but without harshness in her gaze.

“Just don’t hunt too much,” Firestar added, and her eyes scanned the clearing where the kittens were still nibbling on the remains of the feathers. “Our territory hasn’t been giving much lately.”

“I know,” Bety replied, calmer. “We’ll be careful.”

Firestar took a few steps toward the edge of the clearing, looking back one last time at Smudge and his family.

“I should get going. I still have to sort out some things in the Clan. But it was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Are you leaving?” one of the kittens asked, lifting his head with a feather tangled in his ear.

“I must,” Firestar said, purring softly. “There aren’t usually many strangers as friendly as you.”

She was about to leave through the bushes when Smudge raised his voice.

“Wait! Just in case…” he hurried to say. “I’ll accompany you until it’s safe.”

Bety narrowed her eyes and let out a soft huff, without aggression but with that touch that only mates knew how to handle.

“If you’re going out, don’t come back without another prey.”

Smudge turned to her with an expression that could well have been that of a scolded kitten. His eyes were large, round, and moistened as if he had just been dragged out of a warm nest.

Firestar sighed, flicking her tail.

“Fine,” she growled with feigned annoyance. “Maximum one mouse. Small.”

Smudge smiled instantly.

“Then let’s start walking.”

And so they did.

The two walked through the ferns, gradually moving away from the clearing. Around them, the forest became dense again, with long shadows under the trees. But the air felt lighter, and the atmosphere was less tense.

Smudge walked beside Firestar, not saying anything for a while. Only the crunch of dry leaves under their paws broke the silence.

“And what did you think of my family?” he finally asked, lowering his voice a bit.

Firestar smiled without looking at him.

“Loud. Chaotic. Affectionate. Quite adorable. Especially the three little ones who climb on you like you’re a mountain.”

“They’re worse than they seem,” Smudge purred as he walked alongside Firestar, his eyes still shining with recent pride. “Do you want to know how I met Bety?”

Firestar turned her head slightly, smiling with curiosity.

“Surprise me.”

“It was on a cloudy morning, I think just after a rain. I was perched on the windowsill, watching how the birds shook their wet wings in the garden. And then I saw her.”

Firestar arched an eyebrow.

“She just appeared like that?”

“Just like that,” he agreed. “A skinny cat, all wet, with her fur stuck to her body and her whiskers drooping. She was sniffing around the garbage bags the Twolegs had left by the garage.”

“And you went out to help her?”

“No. I went out to tell her that garbage was mine,” Smudge joked. “But she ignored me completely. She went through the bags as if it were her home. She found a chicken carcass and took it. She didn’t even look at me.”

Firestar laughed softly, imagining the scene.

“So she started by stealing from you.”

“Yes, but the next day she came back. This time she came closer to the yard. I was watching a nest of mice that had hidden under the wooden stairs. She saw me. She stayed there, watching me… and when I lunged, I missed. The mouse escaped.”

“I’m not surprised,” Firestar murmured with a teasing smile.

“Hey,” Smudge growled, without real offense. “The thing is, she, without saying a word, lunged right after the mouse and caught it. Dry. As if she had done it all her life.”

“And that’s when you fell in love?”

“No,” he replied sincerely. “That’s when I got offended. She took it right in front of me. But then she nudged it with her nose, as if it were no big deal. She didn’t say anything. She just… offered it to me.”

Firestar looked down with a small smile, but quickly erased it. She clicked her tongue and turned her gaze to some ferns.

“How easily they steal your heart,” she murmured, without looking at him.

Smudge tilted his head, surprised by the tone. He knew her well enough to catch that it wasn’t entirely a joke.

His ears moved back slightly, but he didn’t let the silence grow.

“Many more things happened before I truly fell in love,” he said softly. “Bety… she didn’t just hunt with me. She followed me. She sneaked into my house as if it were hers. Sometimes she slept in my bed without being invited. She got involved in my problems even when they weren’t hers. She didn’t leave me alone even when I asked for space.”

Firestar huffed. She quickened her pace.

She didn’t respond.

She simply walked faster through the underbrush, with her tail low and her head held high, as if suddenly remembering she was in a hurry.

Smudge hurried to walk beside her.

“What? Now it bothers you?” he asked, somewhat amused, though his voice was softer.

“No,” she snapped, curtly.

“Seems like it does.”

“I’m just speeding up. I have things to do. Remember? I’m a Clan leader,” she growled, without looking at him.

Then she looked up again and asked,

“Do you know anything about Prince?”

Smudge blinked.

“Your brother?”

Firestar nodded.

Smudge shook his head with a slight shadow on his face.

“I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

Firestar nodded, huffing again, and ignoring him as she started walking fast once more.

But Smudge wasn’t easily shaken off. He took a brief leap to position himself right beside her, breathing more slowly, his gaze fixed on her sharp profile.

“You’re swallowing your words, Fire,” he murmured with a teasing tone, the kind of voice that gets under your skin like a thorn.

She growled softly at him, without turning her face.

“Keep walking.”

He tilted his head. Sniffed. Moved closer.

And then… he did it.

Smudge leaned his muzzle in, as if to smell a wildflower, and without any warning, inhaled the air right at the curve between Firestar’s neck and shoulder. A brief touch, but intimate enough to send a chill down her spine. She stopped abruptly.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice intended to be firm but trembling at the root.

Smudge looked down, without moving his head, and shrugged.

“Walking slower.”

Firestar glanced at him sideways, narrowing her eyes.

“Are you mocking me?”

Smudge shook his head slowly, almost solemnly… though his lips trembled with the urge to smile, that damned crooked smile that always hid something. But this time, something in his eyes wasn’t mocking. It was… thoughtful. Almost grave.

“No,” he said in a low, heavy voice. “I’m… thinking.”

A pause opened between them like a poorly healed wound. The forest seemed to contract, darker suddenly, the distant sounds muffled, swallowed by the damp thickness. Firestar stopped for just a moment, but she didn’t turn her head; her nape bristled. Something about the way Smudge was looking at her made her heart beat faster, not with anger… but with anticipation.

“Can I ask you a question?”

His voice had something different now. It wasn’t the carefree tone of someone with nothing to lose. It was soft. Aware. The kind of question asked knowing there’s no turning back once said.

Firestar clenched her teeth. She wanted to say no. That she wasn’t in the mood. That anything coming out of his mouth would be another reason to tear his ears off. But…

“Depends,” she finally said, without turning. Her voice was low, tense, with no air between the syllables.

Smudge didn’t hesitate. He didn’t need much of an invitation. He took another step, barely brushing against her fur, and spoke.

“Did you know you have a ‘T’ marked on one of your buttocks?”

The whole world stopped. As if time swallowed hard.

“…What?” Firestar’s murmur came out weak, choked, as if she wasn’t sure she had heard right.

Smudge didn’t back down. His gaze didn’t waver. And his voice hardened, like the strike of a stone breaking the calm of a pond.

“A ‘T’. Like a paw scar. Perfectly traced. Right there,” he said, with a barely perceptible gesture toward her flank. “As if someone… had marked you.”

The silence was no longer viscous. It became dense, mineral. Firestar turned so slowly it seemed like she was fighting against the forest itself. Her eyes were fixed on his, but there was no fire yet; there was something worse. She was searching. Digging into his face with her gaze. Trembling inside, but not letting it show in her paws.

“How do you know that?”

Smudge smiled, slowly. With a hint of pity. With a hint of audacity. With a hint of desire.

“I saw it. Right above the thigh. Curious shape. Like someone left you a secret signature.”

She looked at him as if he had just spat on her, but with her ears turned back, like a cat on alert. She didn’t say anything at first, just studied him, as if looking for signs that it was a joke.

And then, without any preamble, without asking for permission, he lifted a paw and, SLAP!, delivered a sharp, resounding smack on Firestar’s flank. The sound echoed between the trunks, reverberating like a malicious clap.

Firestar’s buttock bounced with a sudden tremble, her fur rippling from the force of the slap, and a yelp, a brief, stifled one, more from reflex than desire, escaped from between her fangs before she could catch it.

“Grrraahh!” she growled, turning abruptly, her tail bristling, her claws ready. “Are you crazy? Do you want me to kill you?”

But Smudge didn’t flinch. He didn’t apologize. He didn’t move an inch.

“Just checking the evidence,” he said, with that calm voice he used when he loved being the target of someone else’s fury. “You were right, it’s none of my business… But I couldn’t resist.”

Firestar clenched her jaw. Her fangs were visible, her green eyes narrowed like blades under the filtered light of the forest. But her fur, beneath all the fire, had a slight… pink hue.

“Do you have a mate?” Smudge asked, almost casually, though his gaze didn’t leave her for a second.

She exhaled violently.

“That… is none of your business.”

Smudge smiled, because that wasn’t a denial. Because that tone, no matter how rough it sounded, had an edge but no root.

“I’m just saying it would be a shame,” he murmured as he started walking again, leaving her behind this time, but only by a step, as if offering her space to breathe. “You look beautiful when you growl. I don’t want you to stop doing it.”

Firestar glared at him. But the blush now reached the base of her ears. And though her brow was furrowed, though her whole body seemed like a trap about to snap shut, her paws hadn’t moved.

Smudge stopped, turned his head, and looked at her over his shoulder, with a crooked smile.

“Tell me if you want me to leave.”

She clenched her teeth.

“Don’t take so many liberties, furball.”

And she walked again, faster.

The foliage barely crunched under Firestar’s paws, her breathing agitated, a whisper among the trees, but contained, clinging to her throat as if refusing to come out fully.

She had turned just enough to look at Smudge, her gaze still charged with fire, but her body ,her posture, the way her tail rose slightly by reflex, as if expecting something, betrayed her will.

Smudge, however, didn’t hold her gaze. His eyes wandered for a moment toward the sky, where the branches wove broken shadows among the light. And without saying a single word, smack!, he delivered another resounding slap, slower this time, more intentional.

The impact sank into Firestar’s flesh like a vibration, drawing a tremor that ran up her back to her shoulder blades, and this time, against all her desire, against all her control… an “ahn—” escaped her throat. A soft moan, ragged, involuntary. A sound too intimate for such an open forest.

She straightened up instantly, ears lowered, eyes turned into blades.

“I’ll kill you!” she growled, though her voice was tinged with something more than anger. The tremor remained in her hip.

Smudge, unfazed, watched her directly now, stepping closer until the air between them grew denser. His voice held no mockery, only a blunt honesty.

“You’re very… sensitive, aren’t you?” he said, and lowered his muzzle slightly, sniffing the heat she tried to deny, that sharp, pheromonal scent that seemed to grow with every word.

Firestar tried to move, but her paws didn’t respond with decision. The tension accumulated at the base of her spine, where her claws couldn’t undo what her body was beginning to admit.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” she spat, without looking at him fully, her fangs visible.

But Smudge didn’t stop.

“I’ve seen how the toms act out there,” he whispered, as if telling her a dirty secret in her ear. “Before coming to the forest, I lived among them. Alley cats, full of… intense habits. I saw what they do when they smell something like this. And especially… the scent they leave on the she-cats they fuck.”

He moved even closer, the heat of his muzzle touching the air just above her rump, his voice coming out as a deep purr.

“And you… you smell like that.”

Firestar growled louder, turning her head with fury, but without lowering her tail. She was exposed, completely. And she knew that he knew it. Her buttocks raised, tense, the skin trembling right where he had struck her, that invisible ‘T’ burning as if coming to life with every word.

“Yes,” she admitted suddenly, her voice guttural, as if it cost her to let it out. “I sleep with someone. But it’s none of your business. It’s private… very private.”

Smudge inhaled deeply, the scent of her heat entering his nose forcefully, and without further ado, without announcing it or sugarcoating it… smack!

Another slap, this one more open, firmer, making Firestar growl with more anger, louder, turning her face toward him with eyes full of threat. But also… full of blush. Of something more dangerous than anger.

And then, Smudge lowered his head.

“You’re in heat, aren’t you?”

She growled, but that response was barely an echo in the air, because before she could say more, Smudge buried his muzzle between her hind legs and gave her a lick. Slow. Extended. From the base to the tip. A wet caress, deep, that made her moan louder, her thighs parting slightly by reflex, as if her body had been waiting for that tongue all along.

“Mmh—aaahh…!”

The exhalation was followed by his warm panting, drinking in her taste, closing his eyes for a moment to savor what her vulva offered him: a fine liquid, slightly sweet, already dripping down her skin as if her body had been begging for attention.

“Mmm…” Smudge murmured, barely separating, his tongue still glistening with her essence. “I knew it. I knew there was something burning in there.”

Firestar trembled. All her rigidity trembled. The forest spun around her, and the wetness between her legs increased as if her body knew something her mind refused to admit. The secret was no longer just that someone was fucking her. It was that there was something about Smudge, his audacity, his instinct, his tongue, that pierced her defenses like a fang in living flesh.

Smudge stayed there, his muzzle buried between Firestar’s open hips, inhaling slowly as if each breath were a whispered prayer to her skin. But there were no prayers here. Only raw instinct, the involuntary surrender of tense muscles, the flesh trembling under the breath of someone who wouldn’t stop.

And then, he licked again.

His tongue descended with precision, tracing the contour of her vulva as if reading it in braille, as if each fold were a wet word he wanted to memorize. The first stroke was soft, exploratory, but the following ones… oh, the following ones had direction.

He pressed more intentionally on the inner edge, right where the heat was densest, most hidden. There, where the skin was taut and ultra-sensitive, where her pulse throbbed like an invisible drum.

“Ahh—” Firestar’s response was a sharp growl that turned into a gasp, and for a moment, her legs faltered.

But Smudge didn’t stop.

He moved his tongue in small, slow circles, as if unraveling the very center of a mystery. He found each point of tension and massaged it with the tip of his tongue, gathering with it the liquid that began to flow as her vulva opened more, wet and trembling, completely exposed to his mouth.

And when he found that exact spot, that hidden button that throbbed to the touch, he pressed, slow, firm, and circled it with precise strokes, as if drawing an arcane symbol in the midst of a storm.

Firestar trembled entirely.

Her body melted from its stance, her hind legs gave way as if the ground had swallowed her strength. She fell to the moss with a stifled moan, her chest heaving, each breath laden with contained rage and something much deeper, inescapable.

“Enough!” she growled, half through gritted teeth, between pleasure and pride clawing with a trembling voice. “Damn it… stop…!”

But her voice broke as she said it, and her body didn’t move away. On the contrary, her paws sank into the earth, and her vulva remained open, trembling, glistening from the traces of saliva and desire that Smudge had provoked.

He remained silent, like an animal focused and dedicated. He didn’t need to speak. His tongue did the talking.

His licks became deeper. He alternated pressure with tenderness, flat caresses with small suctions, as if he were undoing a tense knot that had been forming in Firestar’s flesh for days, weeks, months.

The taste was warm, salty, with a sweet undertone that lingered on his tongue, and as he licked, he couldn’t stop hearing the small sounds escaping from her: panting that turned into growls, growls that trembled into involuntary moans.

“Nghhh… aah… ahh, Smudge…”

And when she uttered his name like that, without filter, without command, without anger… Smudge slid his lips toward her center with reverence. He began to kiss her. Her vulva, half-open and already pulsating, received each kiss like a spark.

They weren’t mere touches: they were sips, dark whispers that seemed to suck her soul from between her legs. And as he kissed her, he murmured against her hot flesh, a deep, muffled moan that vibrated inside her like a wave.

“Mmmmhh…”

Firestar’s vulva throbbed. Entirely. Her face was buried between her paws, biting her front paw to stifle what was coming out, but her body no longer responded to her pride.

Smudge pulled back slightly, his muzzle wet, his breath still laden with her scent, and he licked his lips slowly, methodically, as if savoring the last trace of a stolen delicacy.

His tongue passed over the edges of his muzzle, pausing for a moment at the corner, and then he looked at her. Not with arrogance. Not with mockery. With that soft audacity that only he could wear like a second skin.

“By the way…” he said in a husky murmur, his voice still rough from his own contained moan, “would you like some help with that?”

He shrugged as if he weren’t talking about the most brazenly intimate thing he could offer her, as if it were an innocent suggestion.

Just help. Like the kind given between old friends. Between cats who understood each other with a single glance. Between those who had already crossed the threshold of shame and now breathed the same charged air.

“Help,” he repeated, his gaze half-open, fixed on the trembling of her body. “To release what’s burning inside you.”

Firestar’s breathing came in irregular waves, each gasp more desperate than the last, as if the air reached her filtered through embers.

Her chest rose and fell in time with a barely contained moan, a feline, guttural sound, hoarse like the creak of a branch under a storm. Her hind legs, folded under her own weight, trembled with a mix of restrained effort and residual pleasure that still pulsed between her thighs.

The earth beneath her was wet, not just from the morning dew or the previous rain, but from the sticky threads that lazily dripped from her open, reddened, hot vulva, pulsing with each beat of her accelerated heart.

The sensation didn’t go away. The heat had settled in her hips, rising to her chest where her nipples, hidden beneath her dark red fur, stood erect, sensitive, almost painful.

Just the brush of her own belly as she moved was enough to draw a sigh from her that refused to turn into a moan, but not out of shame. There was none left. It was… something else. It was her soul being wrung out.

Her ears flicked backward, detached from lust by a sudden, sharp pain in her skull, right behind her eyes. A flash of something stronger, more bitter. The world spun and contracted into a dark point in her mind. And then she remembered.

Tigerstar.

Her breath caught. The scent of the earth was no longer just earth. The taste in her mouth was no longer just moisture. The trembling in her body suddenly felt like betrayal. Not to the Clan. To herself.

Her breathing became irregular. It wasn’t just anger. It was guilt. It was pride torn apart. It was the memory of her loyalty burning inside her while her vulva still glistened from another’s touch.

Crack!

Her front paw lashed out like a whip, and she struck Smudge sharply on the muzzle. Not with the force of unleashed fury, but enough for him to feel it. A warning. A punishment. A choice made.

“Grrrhh…!” she growled, her throat tense and her fangs bared. “Don’t you dare pull that crap on me again, you idiot!”

And then she looked at him.

There was no tenderness in that gaze. No playfulness left. It was the look of a warrior who had just remembered who she was.

“I already have a mate,” she spat, her voice fiery but as controlled as a contained storm. “A real tom. A thousand times better than you.”

Smudge lowered his head. His ears flattened back, his tail drooped gracelessly, dragging through the moss like a line of defeat drawn in the earth.

“I’m sorry…” he finally said, his voice barely a raspy murmur. “I let myself get carried away.”

Firestar didn’t respond immediately. She looked down at him, her body already composed, but her chest still heaving violently. The heat from before had cooled like embers, but her anger… that still smoldered between her teeth.

“Tsk.” She growled, barely containing herself. “You can go. I’ll continue alone.”

She turned, with that tense grace of a wounded warrior but not broken. She took a few steps, her tail held high, defiant.

“If you’re going to hunt something, do it before I change my mind,” she added without looking back. “But don’t think I’ll forgive that brazen lick.”

And with that, as if the very air tasted bitter to her, she turned sharply, lifting her front paw and crack!, delivered a direct smack to his muzzle.

It wasn’t playful. It wasn’t theatrical. It was dry. Punishing.

Smudge let out a contained growl, tilting his head from the impact. His muzzle twisted, and a muffled sound escaped his throat as he staggered back half a step. But he didn’t fall. He stayed there, half-standing, with his eyes closed.

Firestar, with a smile that set her face ablaze with malicious anger, sat down again. Slowly. With superiority. As if she had just won something. As if the strike had returned the control that Smudge had dared to take from her.

Slowly, she began to lick the paw she had used to hit him. Her eyes never left him, watching as he shook his muzzle, as he retreated.

But then she felt it.

A different texture on her tongue. Fine. Dense. A metallic taste that shouldn’t be there.

She stopped.

Looked at her paw, narrowing her eyes.

Red.

A thin, sticky, shiny thread under the faint light filtering through the leaves.

Blood.

“What…?” she whispered, lowering her paw slowly, as if not wanting to confirm the obvious.

And then she looked at Smudge.

His muzzle had a red line descending from a small cut at the base, right where her strike had landed. A thread of blood stained his lower lip, running slowly from the corner, dyeing his fur.

Firestar fell silent… and watched Smudge retreat…

She had been right to hit him, but… she had done it with her claws unsheathed.

For the first time… in a long time.