Gloomy skies hung above the canopy. If not for the surrounding redwoods and crowding undergrowth, Reedtail would have sworn that the snow stretched on forever into the clouds, the heavens meeting the earth, which sounded much cooler than it actually was. It was all very blah, one giant shade of gray. He lowered his nose with a snort, deciding to concentrate on the trail before him. Already his clan-mates had pushed through the snow, creating a clear path from the RedwoodClan camp to the LichenClan border. An adventurer in his own right, the young tom was often not one to travel the trail most taken, but he also wasn't about to waste his energy on carving out a second path through the heavy snow. Not to mention, they'd easily be able to find him. Despite winning the war and ending the century long war with LichenClan, he doubted any of his den-mates would be thrilled to discover him lingering around the border just for fun.

Or any LichenClan warrior for that matter.

The distant roar of the waves grew closer as the ruddy tom neared the southern cliffs, the air heavy with the cloying scent of LichenClan and the musty lake. Only a few bear-lengths separated him from the border, and this time he swore he wasn't going to cross it. He just wanted to see the battle grounds for himself. Reedtail wasn't sent to fight that night, nor was he really responsible for guarding the camp either. He actually retreated to the warrior's den in the middle of the night to try and get some rest, body overcome by sleep. Everyone was on edge, himself included. Painfully he watched Asterstorm vanish into the trees, a sinking feeling in his gut. He was certain she would survive, but another part of him feared for the worst. Sleeping was his only escape since he wasn't allowed to leave camp, not until the sun rose, not until the caterwauls vanished into the tide.

The following morning, he hurried to the medicine cat's den, relieved to find Asterstorm in Orchidshade's care. They had desperately pressed against one another, noses curling into each other's napes.

It wasn't officially official, but something changed between them in the moments after the war, an unspoken affection, whispers sung like honey.

Reedtail wanted to ask her to be his mate.

The LichenClan scent grew stronger. Reedtail paused as the trees started to thin, searching for the culprit. Another warrior was nearby. He spotted her, a striking blue tabby pelt, feathery white furs. His whiskers twitched, recognizing the she-cat from their last encounter so many moons ago. Shrikesong. He smiled. The pretty she-cat was sitting on her side of the border, perched precariously upon the cliffs and staring out at the lake in thought. Reedtail pushed through the foliage, loudly revealing himself. He didn't want to startle her, or worse, meet the sharp end of her claws. Last time, she was all too ready to attack him. "My claws are sheathed," he announced. "I swear, see?" He lifted up a sheathed paw to prove himself. "And look, I'm staying on my side of the border this time." Reedtail remained where he was, but gestured toward the empty seat next to her on the cliffs. "Do you mind if I join you?"