A broad shouldered tom with thick, silver fur marked by splashes of darker coloration.

-

Silverheart has always been striking, born with bright silver fur covered in black smoke patches, most notably on his face, tail, and lower back. The lighter parts of his fur are bright enough to look near white in the right light, almost ethereal, like a ghost prowling through the trees. Though his fur is thick, it's not incredibly long, giving him an effortlessly prim and well groomed appearance.

Even among RidgeClan, Silverheart is impressively large. He's tall, with broad shoulders and a strong chest, meant for carrying the weight of a clan on his back. He has handsome features, with a strong jaw marked by old, faint scars, pale green eyes, regal whiskers, and a calm temperament easily seen in the way he carries himself.

During RidgeClan's attack on MistClan's camp, Silverheart suffered an injury that left his back leg permanently scarred and slightly twisted. He walks with a limp, something that keeps him from returning to his full warrior duties, particular those as a guardian.

Early morning walks mark the later days of Cloudgaze's pregnancy, a simple comfort that lets her pretend she's keeping fit to return to her work as a guardian after her kits become apprentices. She leaves just before dawn, meets her mate at the entrance to camp, and together they stroll through the safest parts of RidgeClan's territory. They're always sure to return early enough for Nightfrost to start her work, so she's never missed.

This time, it's different. The ground is wet beneath the paws of the two she-cats, a sign of the previous night's rain, and the fog is thick between the trees of RidgeClan's forest. So wrapped up in each other as they walk, neither of them notices the dangerous shift in the world around them.

A mudslide.

-

Pain courses through Cloudgaze as she slips into labor, much like she slipped down the ridge only moments ago. She thinks her leg might be broken - certainly bruised. At her side, Nightfrost is unmoving.

-

By luck, or perhaps StarClan's blessing, Cloudgaze can never decide, Firepelt's early morning patrol finds them. The third member of the patrol dashes off for help while Firepelt pulls Nightfrost from the rubble and his mate, Shrewthorn, tucks Cloudgaze against his side. He's a source of warmth in the shocking cold of an unexpected labor. He soothes her with his words, well placed and kind, and promises everything will be fine.

-

He's right, of course. Everything is fine. Cloudgaze welcomes two new kits into the world and Nightfrost, shaken but otherwise uninjured, swears her life that she'll find a way to repay their saviors.

-

"Shrewthorn will have his kits soon," Cloudgaze reminds her children, Silverkit and Sorrelkit. "You'll need to be good role models for them." Sorrelkit lashes her tail in annoyance, unhappy to have their play interrupted for what feels like the hundredth reminder that new kits are coming. Silverkit doesn't understand her mood. At two moons old, they've only just learned to play, and neither of them were very good at it.

"More than that," Nightfrost says. "You'll have to protect them. Keep them safe. Always."

Silverkit doesn't understand the debt that his mothers perceive between them. He doesn't hope to understand it - he knows he's too young for such things. But he does want to please his mothers, and he wants to please Firepelt and Shrewthorn, who've been like second parents to him. 

He's so looking forward to meeting their kits.

-

"They're little," Sorrelkit mumbles, watching the litter of three squirm at Shrewthorn's side.

"You used to be that little," Cloudgaze says.

"No way!"

Logically, Silverkit knows his mother is right. She has to be right, she's his mother. But looking at the tiny bundles of fur Shrewthorn nurses, he can't help but think she must be mistaken. He was already as big as some of the older kits in the nursery. How could he have ever been that small?

-

Silverkit's growth doesn't slow. By four moons old, he's the size of most apprentices. Sorrelkit keeps pace, going so far as to demand that they start their training early, on merit of their size alone. Silverkit can't agree with her rush. He's not ready to leave the nursery, where he can watch over Shrewthorn's litter with the care he promised his mothers. Foxkit, Weaselkit, and Rabbitkit are just so small compared to him, especially Weaselkit. He wants to keep them safe.

Besides, Foxkit isn't as small as his brothers. He's bigger, like Silverkit. Big enough to play with him while his smaller brothers play with younger kits.

Silverkit isn't ready to leave Foxkit behind.

-

By the time he's named, Silverpaw's friendship with Shrewthorn's litter is more than just a promise his mothers made. They're close, closer than he is with Sorrelpaw. The best of friends. And that friendship extends to others, too. Shortly after Shrewthorn's litter the nursery welcomes three more kits - Shadowkit, Juniperkit, and Snowkit. The seven of them, eight on the days his sister joins, are a near-chaotic mix of personalities.

It's bliss, Silverpaw thinks.

And it's cruel that he has to leave it behind, even if just for a few moons.

-

"We'll still be friends," Foxkit promises with a bright smile on the first night Silverpaw is to spend in the apprentice den. "Just save me a spot next to you!"

He does, of course.

-

Sorrelpaw only makes fun of him a little for his silly crush.

-

Right away, Silverpaw proves himself to be a skilled apprentice. His mentor, Hollyfur, tells him he's lacking nothing, save for a voice. She wants him to be more social. Make new friends, instead of waiting for his old ones to join the den. He tries, he does - he sits with Sorrelpaw and her friends, a pair of cats called Emberpaw and Stagpaw, just a smidge older than they are. Emberpaw's brother, Smokepaw, joins them, too, and with him he brings his friend Littlepaw.

He just doesn't see them the same way he sees his old friends.

-

It's early in his apprenticeship when his guardian training starts.

He's the right candidate for it. With mothers like his, lifelong guardians, and the size to match it, Silverpaw takes to the training with ease. Sorrelpaw does, too, even if her interest lay more in the hunt and less in the shield.

-

Finally, two moons after his training starts, his friends join him in the den. Foxpaw nests at his side like promised, with Weaselpaw and Rabbitpaw's familiar bickering filling his ears with familiar comfort as they all drift off to sleep.

Only a short while later, the rest of their friends join them, and Silverpaw feels whole again.

-

He flourishes with his renewed friendships. Hollyfur has no complaints. She can't even ask him to be more social, with how much time he spends following after Weaselpaw's antics, or learning history and tradition with Shadowpaw, or watching after Snowpaw as she checks for new-leaf flowers.

And of course, there's Foxpaw.

-

Ancestors above, he feels his heart in his throat each time Foxpaw so much as looks at him.

-

He has to ask. He simply has to ask if they can spend their life together.

But they're - they're too young, now. Just apprentices. He can wait. Hollyfur tells him his patience makes him a better cat, and Silverpaw prays that remains true.

-

It's late in leaf-bare when his warrior assessment comes up, just around 15 moons. Silverpaw is grateful for the extra moons his guardian training gave him in the apprentice den. It means they can all be named together - or so he thinks.

Weaselpaw is held back. For his immaturity, his mentor says. The delay wrecks his friend but there's little Silverpaw can do but reassure him that his mentor has his best interest at heart. Weaselpaw snaps at him, says something awful about Silverpaw only getting a name because of his mothers' reputations, but Silverpaw ignores it all. His friend is hurt. He won't abandon him, not at a time like this.

-

"I forgive you," Silverpaw promises on the eve of his naming ceremony, when Weaselpaw steps out of the shadows with a mumbled, embarrassed apology.

"Do I deserve it?" Weaselpaw asks.

"Yes."

It's as simple as that.

-

Silverpaw is named Silverheart for his good character, a name he wears with the highest honor. Beside him, Sorrelpaw becomes Sorrelstripe, Foxpaw becomes Foxflight, and Rabbitpaw becomes Rabbitfern. He wishes Weaselpaw was with them, but feels no shame in the delight that fills his chest when he and Foxflight nest as warriors together.

Soon. Soon, he'll ask.

-

Weaselpaw isn't held back for long. He's named with the rest of their friends - Weaselsong, for his charisma. It's not even a moon apart when the rest of his friends (Shadowgaze, Snowlight, and Juniperbelly) join Silverheart and Foxflight in the warrior den.

-

"Are you going to ask?" Sorrelstripe says, standing at Silverheart's side as they watch the three hunters before them plan their strategy. Silverheart doesn't answer her at first. He's brushed off the question for the last few moons, determined to give both himself and Foxflight time to settle into their lives as warriors before he asks to be mates. Besides, he knows the answer will be yes. How could it be anything else, with how Foxflight looks at him?

"I will," he says. "I will."

-

That night is their first gathering together as warriors.

Silverheart breaks off from the friendly PrairieClan queen he was chatting with to find Foxflight in the crowd, only to pause when his friend leans in too close to share gossip with a MistClan tom.

The way the warrior brushes against Foxflight sends jealousy, hot and angry, rippling through his pelt.

-

Foxflight is smitten.

Heartbroken, Silverheart can only nod and half smile as Foxflight recounts how wonderful of a gathering it was, and how he was so excited for the next one.

-

How silly he was, thinking Foxflight was interested in him.

Silverheart waited to ask to give them time. He never once considered it odd that Foxflight didn't ask. He never once-

-

He thinks to give it another moon, to wait until the next gathering and see if Foxflight's affection for this MistClan warrior is just a friendly interest.

-

It's not. It's not just a friendly interest.

-

"Did he turn you down?" Sorrelstripe asks, the two of them once again out on another patrol as guardians. Wishing his sister would at least sound sympathetic, Silverheart could only look down at his paws in response. "His loss."

"My loss," Silverheart chokes out. "It's my loss."

-

At least he can ensure their friendship prevails.

-

The first cracks in the group are caused by Wolfstar's charming words.

Silverheart feels his skin crawl whenever the leader lavishes praise on RidgeClan's superiority, or wields StarClan like a weapon. He's never liked him, at least, not when Wolfstar is being like this. His quiet charisma and natural leadership are wonderful when guiding the clan through difficult seasons or unexpected tragedy. But his piety? Silverheart can't stand it.

To his horror, Shadowgaze can.

More than stand it, Shadowgaze seems to like it. And as Shadowgaze falls more in line with Wolfstar's obsessive beliefs, so do the rest of his friends.

Even Foxflight.

-

"What... do you think of it all?" He asks Foxflight one evening, the two of them alone on a casual patrol. It's their first time alone in moons. "Of Wolfstar, I mean, and his plans."

"Oh..." Foxflight looks a mix of considerate and nervous. "Well, I want to support our leader." Sure. "And... I want to be a good warrior for the clan, like you are." Silverheart tries to calm his heart at the compliment. "But, I guess it's a little intense for me."

"Intense, yes," Silverheart agrees quickly, hopeful this meant he still had time to sway Foxflight back onto his side. To what end, he doesn't know. "I don't like how he speaks about MistClan and the Moonpool."

"Hah." Nervous. Foxflight is nervous. Silverheart does his best to soften his gaze. "He definitely has opinions!" Bad ones. Why can't Foxflight just say it? "But, Shadowgaze says he's right."

Dammit.

"I suppose," Silverheart mumbles.

-

There's adrenaline already coursing through his limbs as he approaches Shadowgaze. He wants an answer. No, he needs an answer. No matter how much thought he dedicated to it, he still didn't understand how someone as thoughtful as Shadowgaze could side with Wolfstar, with someone dangerous, no matter how much respect he deserved as their leader.

Except, he finds his answer in Shadowgaze's cold eyes before he even asks the question.

It's power. Ambition. Shadowgaze wants to rule RidgeClan alongside Wolfstar, his deputy, and his oracle.

"If you won't stand with us," Shadowgaze says, studying the leaves on the trees that surround them. "Then you're against us. I won't inform Wolfstar of your disloyalty, Silverheart, out of respect for our old friendship." Old friendship. A friendship he doesn't have anymore.

Silverheart aches to see such a shell of the quiet, considerate cat he grew up with.

-

The rest of his friends are swift to follow Shadowgaze's lead, like they always were. Weaselsong mocks him for his weakness. Calls him a coward. Juniperbelly and Snowlight can hardly even look at him. At first, he thinks Foxflight might be caught between it all, like perhaps the mutual feelings he once perceived from him were still enough to keep Silverheart in his good graces.

Then there's a gathering, and Foxflight comes back stormy and unrecognizable, speaking in harsh tones about MistClan just like the rest of his old friends.

-

Silverheart is in a mood when he confronts Foxflight, one last desperate attempt to reach the kind cat buried under Wolfstar and Shadowgaze's pretty words, but Foxflight is in a mood, too, so Silverheart can't bring himself to think he made a mistake. "You can't be this foolish," he snaps, having managed to corner Foxflight alone just outside camp. "You're smarter than this. You can see-"

"So you're insulting me now?" Foxflight snaps back. "Just come out with it, Silverheart. You always thought I was an idiot."

No. Never. But the words find no purchase in his voice. Instead he says, "Don't prove yourself to be one."

Foxflight hisses. "You always thought you were so much better than us, didn't you? And now you're just jealous because you can't keep us in a tidy row. Stars, I hate how overbearing you are." What? "I always hated having you around, you know."

"What?" Just a few words, and all his anger was gone, replaced by a creeping dread Silverheart doubted he would ever shake.

"Yeah. I always hated when you hung out with us, like some older brother none of us asked for." Foxflight's claws dig into the ground. "I hate you."

Softer, Silverheart repeats, "What?"

"Weaselsong's right. You're so weak, you can't even say anything other than what." Silverheart bites back the third instance of the word. "I'm glad we're not friends anymore. Maybe now I can actually live my life."

Foxflight leaves him alone in the night, shivering in the cold leaf-bare air.

-

He sleeps by his sister that night, and takes meals with her friends the next day.

-

Not enough days pass for him to process the shattered fragments of his old life before Wolfstar summons the clan to launch an attack on MistClan's territory.

Silverheart knew it was coming. The clan isn't as split as he thinks it is - even cats he knows oppose Wolfstar's zealotry come to fight. Silverheart thinks he understands them. After all, he joins the fight, too.

He promised he would always watch over Foxflight.

-

The fight is chaotic.

He catches sight of his sister, fighting for clan and not piety. He watches Wolfstar take a blow that looks mortal. He breathes a sigh of relief as Foxflight pulls Weaselsong away from a cat twice his size.

He doesn't notice the MistClan warrior until it's too late.

-

Pain. Pain. There's so much pain.

-

CW: Brief reference to suicidal thoughts after an injury.

-

Silverheart wakes up days after the combat, surrounded by bare scraps of moss and the familiar scent of at least a half dozen clanmates, including his old mentor. Hollyfur starts grooming him when he stirs, soothing him back into a restless sleep. Dimly, Silverheart acknowledges there are MistClan warriors among them.

It's odd, he thinks, that there is no pain.

-

The next time he wakes, it's because the MistClan medicine cat is pressing herbs to his back leg.

He doesn't feel it.

-

An injury of the spine, he's told. It's rendered his back legs immobile. To make matters worse, there's a large gash along his right thigh, stiff and inflamed despite MistClan's attempts to stave off the infection.

MistClan's attempts, because he's still in their territory.

It's an act of mercy extended to the RidgeClan survivors not well enough to drag themselves back to camp. MistClan will tend to them with supplies collected by RidgeClan's medicine cat. They're kept in makeshift camp between the two clans, but solidly on MistClan's side of the river. Only when they're well enough are they to hobble back home.

Over the course of three moons, Silverheart watches as each of his clanmates return until he's alone.

He wishes he died.

-

His mothers are some of the cats responsible for bringing RidgeClan herbs to MistClan's medicine cat. They stay with him when they can, alternating between the two of them and Hollyfur so Silverheart isn't alone. It's on one of their visits when he first feels it, a tingle in his back leg as Cloudgaze grooms him. Terrified of what it could mean, he doesn't mention it at first.

The next day, the tingle evolves into a tickle. And then there's sensation, as Cloudgaze grooms him with motherly care.

-

An injury of the spine, he's told, could just be a bruise. And bruises heal.

-

He leans heavy on Nightfrost as they cross the fallen trunk back into RidgeClan territory. Despite his injury, he can't help but apologize profusely for needing to rely so much on her to walk. "Don't think like that," she says with firm care. "I taught you how to walk once. I'll do it again, and if I can't, then I will be your crutch."

"Why?" He asks, feeling just as small as he once did. When he was no more than a kit and his mother was a heroic guardian, doing things worth her time. Not tending to a broken excuse for a warrior.

"You're my son," is all she says.

It's enough.

-

Silverheart retires to the elder's den when he returns to camp. He's grateful for it. He can't bear the idea of sleeping near his old friends and seeing unrecognizable faces as they watch him limp around camp. Besides, sleeping among the elders gives him a unique opportunity to really listen. Listen to how things used to be. To the traditions RidgeClan shirked in favor of Wolfstar's zealotry. To long-forgotten friendships between the three clans.

Here, in the elders' den, Silverheart does more than learn to walk again.

He learns how he can help RidgeClan.

-

Walking is his first priority, though.

He works with Hollyfur, who trains him with the same patience she trained him with as an apprentice, and Nightfrost, who makes good on her promise to teach him to walk once again.

At night, Cloudgaze grooms him before returning to the warriors den. Sorrelstripe joins them, sometimes, bringing Silverheart stories from her patrols or even a friend or two. Her friends can't fill the void carved into his heart from Shadowgaze's betrayal or Foxflight's harsh words, but at least he has friends to talk to.

-

"Your recovery is impressive," Hollyfur says, watching Silverheart move across the camp.

"At this rate, I'll be able to make it to the nursery in only half a day's time," Silverheart says, earning a humored snort from Hollyfur.

"I was talking with some other senior warriors. And Mushroomstar. We think you could return to the warriors den soon, if you wanted." After five moons in the elders den, Silverheart was getting tired of sharing their aches and pains. At the same time...

"I can't perform any duties, in my state," he says plainly. "Patrols require too much walking and I couldn't catch anything. I make too much noise." He could handle some combat training, maybe. With young apprentices who weren't expected to perform well yet.

"It'd be very light work," she said. "We just thought it might lift your spirits." He had been glum, recently. Another thing he blames on being surrounded by elders - they could be so pessimistic, sometimes. "We're eager to have you back."

Silverheart was eager to be back, even if he had moons of healing still left, and a likely permanent limp that would make hunting a challenge for the rest of his life. "I'll think about it."

-

Returning to the warriors den would mean proximity to his old friends again. To Foxflight.

It would also mean a chance to re-forge connections he lost while in recovery. Connections he needed to make the rest of the clan see it his way, and ensure they never had a repeat of the late Wolfstar's nonsense again. He was glad the old leader was dead, however horrible it was of him to think it. But the oracle, even removed from power, was still around, as were cats like Shadowgaze.

He could never convince cats like Shadowgaze or the oracle.

But, he had to at least try.

Pre-Plotting: Silverheart's beliefs line up mostly with those of Uranus from the RidgeClan plot adoptables. He believes RidgeClan's piety led to the current fractured state of the clan, and while has no problems with other cats finding faith in StarClan (at times, he finds comfort in them, too), thinks that the systemic nature of this fervent piety in the form of the oracle has no place in RidgeClan's future.

He agrees with parts of the Saturn role, as well. Specifically, Silverheart thinks relying on (non religious) tradition and embracing what it means to be one of three clans in the valley is the best way to ensure RidgeClan will prosper in the future. This belief, in part, came about from his time in MistClan.

Family: With two doting, loving mothers and a sister as close as can be, Silverheart holds his family near and dear and doesn't foresee that changing. He hopes to one day have a family of his own, in whatever form that may take, so he can model himself after his mothers and raise proud RidgeClan warriors. However, since his injury, a darker part of Silverheart's thoughts are dedicated to convincing himself he's not worth his family's legacy. No longer able to serve as a guardian, Silverheart sometimes wonders if he's really his mothers' son.

Friends: Like with family, Silverheart is deeply committed to his friends and puts a lot of value in the ties between them. He's easy to get along with and thus finds himself more social than his quieter disposition might imply him to be. He's also incredibly forgiving. This makes it easy to put away the differences he has with some clanmates, especially after Wolfstar's saga, and branch out to make new friends.

Romance: Tragically, irreparably, devastatingly in love with Foxflight and has been since they were apprentices. Though Silverheart longs for a family, he knows it's unfair of him to take a mate, as there's no way he could ever love them as much as he loves his former friend. He'd never admit it, but Silverheart has more or less resigned himself to a life without romantic love because of these feelings he just can't shake.

Rivals: Silverheart is deeply forgiving, which makes it hard for him to have any antagonistic relationships, though he has plenty of friendly rivals. The exception is his old group of friends who cast him off when he tried to convince them to step away from Wolfstar's plots. He's forgiven them all for the mistakes they made and the horrid things they said to him, but he doubts they'll ever be friends again.