Redthorn, of course, sat vigil that night. He affectionately groomed Shadowrunner's ears as if the dead cat were simply asleep. He felt warmth, love, affection, but no guilt. His mate, Icepath, had already returned to the warriors den, and he was left alone with Snake and Shadowrunner.
He could spot the sun rising over the trees, a bright golden blur on the horizon. He yawned widely and nodded to Snake before padding back to his nest. He collapsed next to Icepath, and her soft white fur warmed him as he drifted off to sleep.
Redthorn dreamed he was racing through a soft field of grass. His paws barely skimmed the ground as the wind rushed through his fur. Prey scents were everywhere, and he could sense that many cats had hunted here before.
The peaceful landscape slowly died off, turning into a rocky place that hurt his paws. He tried to turn back to the grass, but his long legs wouldn't stop running. To his horror, he felt himself falling. Pain stabbed through his neck, and blood pooled all around him.
He feebly turned his gaze upwards, and...himself was staring coldly down at him. Chills ran down his back as he saw his legs were black and white. Shadowrunner's voice, no longer shrill and weak but deep and strong, boomed around him.
"I will allow you one hint. The truth does not lie in the shadows, but in the storm."
Redthorn awoke with his hackles up and claws unsheathed. Icepath was staring at him, puzzled.
"Hey, you okay?" she meowed.
"Yeah, fine. I just need time to think." Without any further explanation, he skulked away, pondering over Shadowrunner's clue.