The taste of salt was in her mouth. Water closed over her head, blocking her from the air. From her mouth spun silver bubbles, winding their way towards the sunlight.

Twist hung suspended in the water. She thought she should be afraid, being this deep beneath the waves, but when she looked up, all she could see was light streaming in through the water in rippling bands, beautiful gold and silver and blue-green. She was being ferried along by some unseen current, lifted to the air.

Her head broke the surface and she breathed in.

All around her for miles stretched endless water. It was summertime here, and a wind so rich and warm it made her shiver, ruffled her soaking ears. Above, white birds with black-tipped wings circled, calling out to each other. The sound was distant as thunder.

She heard the waves crashing behind her. The shore, she understood, even without looking. The water seemed to understand. The current moved, pulling her around, turning her towards a white sand beach.

Twist swam.

Paddling didn't take any effort at all. She might as well have been standing still. Even when she pulled herself ashore, her legs didn't tremble. She'd spent the past year shivering in the bitter cold, but now she felt comfortably warm.

Ahead of her was rolling hills, dotted with forests. At the shore, it seemed like the land came to a gentle slope. It was all upwards from here.

The sun was rising or setting, she couldn't tell. But it bathed the hills in a misty orange light, turning everything to shadow.

Twist looked. She blinked. She wasn't afraid.

"Twist! Twist, where are you? Twist!"

The sand here was dotted with pawprints. Cat prints. It was a clear trail leading down towards a rocky shoal that extended into the water. The end was blocked by the glare of the orange sun, making her wince. Twist found herself following the path without remembering making the decision to.

The ground underfoot felt soft as kitten fur. As she trotted, it kicked up behind her in puffs, clinging to her drying fur. The sky was the same gold-orange as the sun, dotted with early stars.

The shoal branched up into a cave of sorts. It soared over Twist's head. Inside, the ceiling was all blue crystal, shining with twinkling lights. Twist blinked and they moved, forming new patterns, deleting the old, changing shape as quickly as she could follow.

"I found her! Twist, can you hear me? Twist, move your paw if you can hear me. Move your paw. Blink. Anything. Come on, you can't do this to us. You can't do this to Hazel and Declan. Twist? Twist?"

It didn't feel any cooler inside the cave, but Twist missed the feel of the orange sun on her back. By now, her pelt was completely dry, without a trace of salt against her fur.

This place was full of more silver shadows. They moved in groups, alone, together, blending, mixing, changing. She couldn't keep track. It felt like everything was moving in slow-motion, making the images bleed into each other.

She wasn't confused. She was curious. There was no threat here. Everything was calm as smooth water.

Outside the cave, the sea sighed. The orange sun glowed like a mother's eye, and Twist felt drawn to it.

As she went to leave the cave, to head towards the sun, there was a shadow in the way. A darker one than the silver ones that played and danced and flowed behind her. This one was a cat, distinctly, with a pelt made of white snow and patches of night.

For the first time since waking up, Twist felt something in her chest, a brass roar that was building up in her heart, waking it back from this dreamy contentment.

This was the cat who had started and ended it all.

Snit.

XXX

"What are you doing here?" Twist demanded. Her voice cut through the serenity like a shard of ice. "You're dead."

Snit watched with sardonic eyes. They were the brightest thing about him and always had been, but now they glowed like the crystal ceiling. "I wanted you to know what you were about to do."

"What?" She looked around. The silver shadows played on, but now she noticed they looked like cats. She picked out pointed ears, long tails, even shining whiskers. The cave she was in echoed with the soft shush of the water.

She hadn't even questioned it before, but now it all came rushing back to her.

"Where am I?" she whispered.

Her voice bounced around the cave, stirring the silver shadows. They turned to her, all comfort, all warm understanding, and the realization crushed the air from her lungs.

"I'm dead," she said, her heart slamming in her chest. "Stars, it killed me, the fall. Didn't it?"

Snit watched her for a moment. She'd forgotten how annoying that wry look of his was, like he was always laughing at her. It snapped her back.

"And what, you're here to gloat? To mock me? To tell me 'I told you so,' is that it?" She stepped forward and prodded him in the chest. He felt very solid and very real. Which only made her panic increase. If he were dead, or a ghost, wouldn't her paw pass through him like mist? Why was it that she could touch him?

Snit pushed her paw away and rubbed his chest, looking resentful. "No. I'm not going to do any of those things. I didn't think you understood what was happening. I've seen thousands come through here and walk right through this cave across that bridge." He flicked his tail to the shoal, still glowing with the sun's light. Growing light? Dying light? She still couldn't tell. "And they always have the same moony face you did. You didn't even notice, did you? You would have just left everything?"

Twist was still looking at the sun. It called to her. It rang in her bones like instinct. She wanted it. She wanted to go there.

But she stopped. She looked back to Snit. The only real thing in this whole place.

He leaned closer. He did have Hazel's eyes, even in the right colors. They matched, the two, in this way if no other.

"You aren't dead," he said in a soft voice. "Not yet, anyway."

Someone touched her face, tipped her chin back. Her eyes were half-open but she still couldn't see anything but shadows misting across her vision. "Streak, get over here! Do something!" The voice got louder as the cat turned back. "Don't you do this to me, Twist. Don't you dare leave me. Not after—" There was a terrible wrenching gasp and the voice stopped.

Twist shook her head. Numbness was spreading through her limbs. She shook all over. "I…I'm…"

"No." Snit put his head to one side. "But you're close. You're right on the edge. Can't you feel it? Concentrate."

Twist closed her eyes.

Her eyes grew more focused. There were cats around her, slow-moving, blurring shapes with less substance than a dream. Their voices littered over each others', blocking out any reason. It was cold, so cold.

Everything in her body pulled down to one singularity: pain.

She was in agony. She was dying. Everything in her was broken, broken, broken and she couldn't even scream to let it out. Blood beat in her brain like pounding rain during a thunderstorm. It pooled around her, crystallizing in her fur. She was dying.

With a gasp, she opened her eyes. She was back by the water, by Declan's sea, and Snit was watching her carefully, hungrily, his eyes roving hers.

"Well?" he asked.

Twist shook her head, one quick jerk. "I'm alive," she said. "But I…I can't possibly be for much longer. My body, it's… There's so much pain everywhere and I—"

"And you what?" Snit demanded dryly. Now he stood and came over closer to her, his tail twisting from one side to the other. "You don't want to go back? You don't want to stay alive?"

"My father fell from the mountain, too," she said in a low voice, her teeth chattering. "He was a mess. Disgusting. He shouldn't have survived. I told myself I wouldn't have wanted that. And now…"

"You are not your father. You are not the monster that stole kittens from their families. You are not something that cats would be willing to lose."

"They can lose me," she found herself saying, desperately maybe, pathetically. That pain had set into her bones. It had become her reality, in just that one split second.

She'd done her job. She'd killed Blackjack.

Wasn't that enough?

Snit gave her a withering stare. "This is Twist? The cat who killed the monster stalking the valley? Twist, the cat who tried to kill her own father after he threatened her mother? Twist, the cat that ended the war between the Claws and Sliders when all I could do was exacerbate it? This is you saying this? Saying you prefer death over life?"

He padded around her in a circle. It made her feel small and foolish, and Snit often had in life. But this was different. His jabs had been kitten-soft next to these barbs.

Snit stopped walking and sat down. He narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps I can change your mind."

The ground lurched beneath her paws. Twist gasped. By the time she recovered, the sea was gone, the crystal ceiling, the silver shadows.

There was a dark lump in the center of the dark, windswept space, facedown in the snow. It took her a long moment to recognize herself.

Her shoulders looked wrong. One of her hind legs was bent the opposite way. There was a bend in her tail. Her side was gashed open, bleeding into the white.

But a flicker of life was left in her. She saw it almost like a waving flame, a shadow in the dark fur of her chest.

"Look," Snit whispered, and her head turned.

Another dark body, moving feebly in the snow. This one not as lucky. Blackjack's heavier bulk had slammed him into rocks on the way down. The flame in him was darker, weaker, and as Twist watched, it sputtered out. Blackjack fell still, and the wind whispered over his dark pelt.

Twist's body moved, and Twist felt it in this strange presence she was now like a trapped heartbeat. A spark of pain ran along her spine and she hissed in surprise from it.

I'm destroyed, she thought, looking aghast at what her last effort had done.

"Watch," Snit said, again in that hollow whisper.

Shapes came picking down from the cliffs, dots of color against the gray. They raced across the ground and stopped by her side.

The first to reach her was Streak. Streak, proud and brave and kind-hearted, was calling her name pitifully like a baby bird, all brokenness and fear. Hazel met him strike for strike, and as soon as her eyes set on the body, she began to sob.

Sorrow next. Then Whirlaway. And finally Declan.

"No," he choked out. He pushed past the others and dropped onto his belly next to her, tipping her chin back out of the snow. Twist could see a gleam of yellow in her half-opened, dull as sulfur.

Her heart ached. Declan. No. Don't do this. Don't look at me like this.

He buried his head in her shoulder, his entire body shaking. He was whispering, so quietly the wind stole it, but it reached Twist somehow. "Don't do this to me. Twist, don't you dare do this to me. You can't leave me alone. I know we promised and we told each other and— But you can't do this to me."

"It will be over." Snit appeared at her shoulder. He didn't look at Audrey, lying in the snow at Twist's side and crying out in a terrible unbroken sound. He looked right at her, his eyes nebulous as whirlpools. "It will end for you here, in the snow, at the bottom of this ravine. You will die a hero. They will carry your name back to the Warren. You will be a legend."

Twist stared at him. "You're not really Snit, are you?" All the personality that she'd admired and resented about Snit was bleeding out of him by the second, like her mind was losing grip on him. The snap, the impatience, the lecturing. Even the wry look was gone, replaced by a peaceful look that could be any emotion.

The cat—not Snit, because even after death he would have been looking out for Audrey, unable to keep his eyes off her—just looked back. Quiet. Serene. But firm somehow, like a father scolding his kit. "I am whatever is necessary to make the transition easier. Guardian. Protector. Lover. Watcher. Slider. Claw. Mother. Father. Brother. Sister. Child. I am anything you need."

"And I need Snit? Is that what you're saying?" Her mouth was so dry. "And transition… Does that mean that it's true? That I'm dying?"

The cat—the Guardian—didn't respond.

The Sliders gave no notice to the still form of Blackjack after a quick test to make sure he was dead. They left his body for the snow to cover.

Twist watched their prodding, listened to their begging, felt their touches like ghosts brushing against her fur. To the Guardian, she said, "I want you to say 'But.' I want you to say there's a way out of this for me."

The Guardian made a soft, musing noise. "You burn, don't you? Like a star."

"Don't spout garbage at me. Tell me straight: is there a way out of this for me or not?"

"Let me show you what will be, if there were. Let me show you what will happen in the coming days."

Colors blurred. Again, Twist felt that strange sensation of the ground changed, and then she was out of her body once more, up in the air like a bird. Floating.

The Sliders were a line of dots beneath her, small as ants. She thought, I wish I were closer, and suddenly she was, coasting along above them. There was Streak in front with Hazel at his side, Sorrow behind, then the trickle of cats following. To her shock, Flare's cats were there too, along with the head she-cat herself, stumbling along like a wounded thing. At the back, on a bed of moss, lay Twist's broken form. Someone had covered her up with rabbit pelts, to hide her misshapen legs. Declan walked alongside, eyes ahead, but every few seconds, they went to her. Watching. Waiting. Dreading.

Twist didn't have a heart, but it ached regardless.

Everything was laid bare to her. She could see everything. Emotions were curls of smoke. Hearts were flickering fires. Worries were shivers of grass in a strong wind.

Sorrow led for most of the journey. She was surefooted. She looked at the mountains and thought, My father wanted this place his whole life but he never knew it—this place holds death and no life. Her Claws looked to her for guidance and she gave it, shoving the guilt, the fear, the weakness down inside herself and crushing it. "Keep moving," she said, but the Claws heard her love for them, this she-cat who lied and lied for their lives, who had gambled with her own and won.

Sometimes, a cat fell out of the line, stumbled in the snow. But every time, another stopped, helped, took some of the weight and carried it for the hurting one. The kittens from Flare's group, who had never known this cold, shivered and cried.

Cascade comforted them, licked their ears, whispered stories of green and warm. When a kitten couldn't walk any longer, she bent and carried it, though Twist could feel the searing agony in the silver she-cat's neck.

Marco helped the younglings. He told them stories of his friends, of the Warren. They listened with curious ears, asking questions about them, about Whisper and Adder. They didn't ask questions when his throat closed around Max's name, or the way his eyes grew dimmer.

Iggy's bones hurt deep inside. Each step was crushed glass. But when Kaltag asked him, "Do you want to stop?" each time he replied, "I'll stop when I'm dead."

The mountain blurred. The sky moved from blue to black a hundred times, too many to keep count. The cats moved on, stopping and bundling together for warmth. The storm raged on above, tattered clouds like torn fur.

Snow faded. White vanished. Green replaced it, vibrant and beautiful as Lightfoot's eyes.

Streak sensed the change at once. He turned to the others and announced that they were almost home and the air changed at once. Cats who had been beaten down and exhausted grew excited. It was like someone had swept out all the dust and left them clean and fresh. The kittens bounced along at everybody's paws and the elderly watched them with tired affection, gently scolding when a little white kit bit too hard or when someone got tangled in someone else's legs.

The valley was in full bloom. Another spring. The first Twist had seen in what felt like forever. The mountain's slope was carpeted in lush, thick grass dotted with poppies. Their red heads danced in the breeze.

The little group grew more hopeful here. Their steps were quicker, surer. There was laughter. Finally, their bellies were full. Finally they rested without shuddering, without worrying the cold would take them in their sleep.

And still Twist lived. She watched her body move fitfully, taking mouthfuls of water she couldn't taste.

Night fell. The moon was a fat circle again, yellow as gold. And the group rested easily.

Ren was on watch. As he sat upright, silhouetted by moonlight, Violet came to his side. "I can feel them moving," she said, sitting alongside him, her belly fuller than Twist remembered. "Three, I think. Or maybe four. My mother had four." Her sorrow touched her, then, and the flicker of her life wavered. Adder is lost and buried in the snow and he will never return home.

And Ren touched his nose to hers. "I want to name one for your brother."

Stripes was asleep. His dreams were black-and-white, full of snow. One paw was covering his nose, his wrinkled lip, as he watched Braiser climb the rock he always like to speak from, his voice a noiseless buzz. Stripes's heart raced but his mind said, This is how a monster begins.

Flare lay awake at Blue-Eyed Jack's side, her heart a black mess of guilt and self-loathing. Jack leaned her forehead into Flare's shoulder, but that did nothing to coat the sting in the red she-cat's chest.

Sparrow took the watch next with Anole. Anole's mind was a loop of worry for Twist that almost screamed at times. Sparrow leaned his shoulder against hers, knowing what was happening inside that tortoiseshell head of hers, but she was like Twist: she didn't want comfort when she could have action. So when she asked to join him on watch, he didn't protest. He knew she needed it. He said, "You can take the south. I'll take the north," and nothing else, and Anole loved him.

And still, somehow, Twist lived.

Declan sat at her side, his paws tucked beneath his chest. The journey had aged him. His eyes looked tired as he looked at her, his chest rising evenly. His mind was quiet. His flame didn't flicker. Strong.

But he watched her and his heart ached.

Twist drifted down next to him. She was shapeless in this way, formless as mist, but she pressed her pelt against his and he breathed in, like he felt her.

I would have died for you, he thought to her, because after so long, so many years together, he knew she would understand him without even speaking, and she did. I would have and you would have lived without me. But, stars above, Twist, I cannot live without you.

They reached the Warren three days later.

Lucky's shock was overwhelming. He ran out to meet them, past the others, with Viktor bounding at his side. He immediately set on Sorrow, his hackles up, but Streak explained it all. Viktor looked at his son like he'd never seen him before, appreciation and pride in his eye, love burning stronger when Violet appeared and Kite nearly tackled her before she realized her condition, but it slipped away when he looked for his remaining son.

Whisper, tall and lithe and stronger than Twist remembered, appeared at the gate. She said the words Viktor was screaming in his head: "Where's Adder?"

Kite knew. She'd known. As soon as she watched three of her children leave, she'd known one wouldn't come back. And she had prayed and wished and sobbed, but she'd known, as mothers do.

The others surrounded them inside the Warren. They took stock. They realized the missing numbers, the ones who had been added. The Claws were looked upon with outright suspicion, Flare's cats with confusion. Sorrow, reviled, hated, was the target of their venom, Sorrow who had cut out her own eye to save her cats, Sorrow, who had snuck into the viper's nest for a chance of killing the snake, Sorrow, who had orchestrated the turning of the tide, who had saved them all somehow from Blackjack's revenge.

Sorrow lifted her head against their whispers and looked down her nose at them.

Flint took Twist into his den at once, looking dazed, blind as a kit. His flame flickered weakly, his mind circling one image, over and over again, of Max as a newborn kitten in his paws, his little brother, his only other kin, and Flint himself saying to their foster mother Lilac, "He's going to be so strong when he grows up. He's going to be a warrior."

"Her body is so damaged," he said to Declan, who had not spoken to anybody, not even Viktor or River or Lucky. He hadn't spoken in days. "I've reset her hind leg and tended to her broken ribs, but I don't know if there's anything else than can be done."

Now he did. He opened his mouth. His voice was creaky, but sure. "She's lasted a month. She'll live. She's Twist."

Twist took water and nothing else. Her mind stayed out here, adrift. Declan stayed down there, adrift.

The sun rose and sank. When the moon came out, and all the stars, Declan remained awake, down here in the healer's den. Hazel brought him prey but he ate little, spoke less. "I love her, too," Hazel whispered. "But you can't do this to yourself, Declan."

Declan said nothing.

Hazel stayed that night. Streak joined her halfway, after consoling his mother, his sister. He took Declan aside and convinced him to get some sleep just down the hall. "It'll be good for Hazel to be alone with her for a while," he said, out of earshot. "Let her have some time. I'll stay with you."

Declan agreed, but he pushed his nose into Twist's fur for just a second before he went.

"I love you," he whispered, everything in him shaking.

Twist didn't have eyes, but she closed them, and wished she could feel his touch.

Hazel was quiet for a long time. Twist floated here, bodiless, and watched her daughter mourn.

"You can't," she said, so quietly Twist would have missed it if she had ears. "You can't do this. You can't save us and then die." She sucked in a shaky breath. "Flint says you're dying. That you haven't eaten in so long that your body is shutting down. That you'll starve before you die of your injuries. That's pathetic, Twist. You're going to take out the evilest cat we've ever known and then die of starvation? Come on."

Angry. Hazel was always angry. But now her anger was grounded. It wasn't the detached anger of a growing kit. She was an adult now, a fully-grown she-cat, strong in body, heart, mind. She had killed. She had watched her birth mother leave her life without resentment, but understanding. She was no longer the kit that had lain at Twist's chest, no. But that was right. It was good.

Hazel looked up with glittering, half-narrowed eyes. She watched the weak rise and fall of Twist's chest, the way her eyes twitched beneath the lids. She leaned in closer. "You have to live. You don't have a choice. When I was growing up, you always ordered me. Now I'm ordering you. Live."

Twist drifted. Hazel stayed still.

The next day, Spirit arrived with Teddy.

Teddy went to Declan and Spirit went to Twist.

Anole came to sit next to Hazel, resting a gentle paw on her back, while Spirit lapped at Twist's fur. Nobody said anything. When Spirit finished with Twist, she moved onto Hazel, and thought, Someone will have to take care of Twist's girl from now on and that someone will be me.

Hazel lay still and let Spirit tend to her, closing her eyes to slits. Anole sat over Twist's prone body and trembled a little bit, not quite able to look at her sister, still and quiet on the ground.

Out in the Warren, life continued. Flare bent to Lucky, relinquishing her fragile control over her cats. Some resented her for backing down. Others pitied her. Whatever the case, they ceased being Flare's cats and started being Sliders, beginning their month of service to their new allegiance.

The Claws took longer to adjust. For a while, they stood apart, bristling, nervous, before one took the first step. Kale. When one of the mountain kittens was play-hunting with a Slider kitten, he bent down and corrected their posture, demonstrating a proper stance. River watched Kale closely, tail bristling, before he relaxed and said, "No, you're doing it wrong. Look, it's like this," and moved into position next to him.

The Guardian's voice spoke to her. It felt like forever and nothing at the same time since he'd spoken last. After a lightning strike, a tree can grow back together. After a fire, the forest comes back stronger, greener, more fertile. After a snowfall, the earth bursts into flower when spring comes.

And Twist said, I am not a tree or a forest or the earth.

No, he replied. You are more.

When the fire in Twist began to weaken, she felt it. The days drifted by more quickly, swifter than blinks. They fed her a mush of leaves and blood mixed with water, but her weight plummeted. Frail as a bundle of twigs.

Declan faded, too.

See how he loves you, the Guardian said. See how he mourns you.

He'll die if he keeps this up. He can't die. What about Hazel? What about the Sliders? They need him.

They say the same about you.

Twist looked at the Guardian. He still looked like Snit. Behind him, distantly, she could see the glow of the orange sun. Others walked along in the light's path, their silhouettes burning into the ground like molten gold. A little white tom with no ears. A burly gray tomcat with a scarred pelt. A sleek gray tabby with kitten blue eyes. A she-cat with a pelt of shadow and ice with eyes as sharp as poison.

Waiting to see if she was coming along with them.

The fire in Twist faltered.

When it came time, Declan was there. He knew. He could sense it. He lay beside her and watched her face with tired, knowing eyes. His face had new shadows beneath the cheekbones, in spaces beneath his eyes. Each blink was slow, defeated, exhausted.

"I've thought about it," he said quietly. "And I've decided that it's okay. You can let go, if you want to. If that's what you really want, you can go. You've done your work. You've done more. You deserve to be at peace now." He looked down. "I should say that. I should be selfless for you. But I can't."

His voice cracked along with Twist's invisible heart. She leaned towards him, settling beside him as he buried his head in his paws, taking in sharp breaths.

"I don't want you to go. I don't want to be alone. You've held on for so long, Twist. You can hold on for longer. Can't you? Can't you keep going? You're strong. Stars, you're the strongest cat I know. Who else would have done what you did? Who else would have leapt in the path like that? I…I couldn't even move. I just stood there. Blackjack would have killed me, but you saved me."

He leaned over to her, reaching out a paw to touch her face. "You saved me," he whispered, roving over her face like he was trying to memorize it. "Just like the first time we met. Do you remember? I almost fell into the river and you saved me. You didn't even know me. And since then, you've saved me every day. I don't think I ever told you why I was in the mountains that day. I went up there and hoped I would never come down because of what I did to Leo. I killed him, Twist. I didn't deserve to live. I was nothing, less than nothing. I wanted to die.

"But then you came out of nowhere. You pulled me back from that edge. You saved my life." His throat worked and he had to stop for a moment. "I thought it was a sign. That I was meant to do something greater than die in the mountains. That I could help someone. And then when I fell in love with you, I thought you were that sign. You were sent to save me. And you did. More times than I can count.

"That's why… That's why I have to ask you. One more time." He closed his eyes tight and Twist reached out to lay an invisible paw over his. When he opened them, they were soft, raw, aching. "I need you to save me again. I can't do this without you. I'm not…strong enough. And it's the most selfish thing I'll ever ask you to do, but I need you to do it. I need you. I love you. You are everything I've ever wanted and everything I've been lucky enough to have. You took me out of the ashes and made me feel like I was worth something. You loved me, despite my mistakes, my stupidity, my selfishness. You saw the potential in me. I never would have done half the things I did without you at my side. Without you being the voice in my head. Without you with me every step of the way. Guiding me. Leading me."

He bent his head once more so that Twist couldn't see his face.

"Flint says you'll never be the same if you wake up. You'll never climb a tree. You'll never hunt again. You'll never be able to jump or run or walk very far. You'll always have a limp. You might forget some things sometimes. You'll need help for the rest of your life. It's not going to be the same as it was, but one thing will: you and me. That's never going to change. That's all I can promise you. I know it's not much, but it's all I have to offer." Declan stretched out his paws to her, brushing her with just the tips of his toes, and every where he touched felt like a spark of fire in her. In a voice so quiet it was like the wind, he said, "So please, Twist, my darling, my love—come back to me. Please."

The Guardian was with her, as he had been for weeks. It is time.

Twist said desperately, Show me the future again. I want to see it.

It will bring you pain.

I don't care.

It will cause you heartache.

Didn't you hear what I said?

The Guardian complied.

It wasn't before, when time felt sped up. It wasn't Declan's sea. It was a flash of images, too quick to process. A den with a warm nest of feathers and fur. A group of young cats hunting, laughing, with Streak in the lead. Hazel stalking a bird, her beautiful eyes full of concentration. Lucky speaking from the machine paw tower to the Claws, warmth in his eyes.

Then further. A white kit with marked eyes and a striped tail, looking up at her from the lap of her forepaws. Declan against the setting sun with a young tom beside him, ruffled pelts the exact same shade. The feeling of old bones full of creaky memories. Kittens playing without thinking of who was Claw or Slider, because the words didn't matter anymore. Declan turning to her with laughing eyes, gray in his muzzle.

And then the sea once more. But this time, she ran towards it, towards what she knew was waiting there.

You will go there eventually, the Guardian said in his silent voice.

Twist said, Eventually isn't now.

It could be.

It's not. Is it?

The Guardian just watched with Snit's eyes, but she thought she detected some appreciation in them.

When he faded, she hardly noticed. The world was loud again, all ragged breathing and dripping water. The ground was hard beneath her back, even harder on her broken leg. When she breathed in deeply, it felt like breathing for the first time, even as her ribs protested the strain.

The ragged breathing stopped. "Twist?" Declan asked hesitantly, holding his breath. "Twist, can you hear me? Are you awake?"

Twist opened her eyes and whispered, "Yes."

The end.

It's been a long ride! Almost four years between Sidestep and Float. Twist and Declan have been with me through some of my highest highs and lowest lows, and I'm so glad that I got to share them with others, to have other people love them like I do.

This will be the end of my writing on . I've been a member for almost six years here, and the experiences and fun I've had on this site are unparalleled, but it's time for me to focus on my professional writing. I wouldn't trade these years for anything.

Thank you to all the readers who have stuck with me through thick and thin, through terrible stories about Thistleclaw that I wrote while high on chocolate and stories about Hollyleaf, Jayfeather, and Lionblaze, for staying with me through my Hunger Games and Pokemon phase, for remaining patient with me as I filibustered about love and loyalty and killed off so many characters. Thank you for pouring so much love into this story about one background character from Outcast. Thank you for believing in me and staying with me even when I didn't update for months on end. You guys are the best.

Writing Sidestep and Float has meant so much to me. I've learned more about writing from these two fics than I have from anything I've ever written. I'm going to miss it, and miss my characters, and miss my readers most of all.

Thank you. Thank you all so much. I hope that you've enjoyed reading.

Here's signing off for the last time!

Shadow

*UPDATE*

Wow, it's been a couple years since I finished with this and let me tell you, it makes me feel like time is going too fast. Whoa, slow down.

Anyway, just wanted to let you guys know that I have an official Big Girl Novel on SwoonReads! Please head over there if you want to see some of my new, original stuff. My novel MARKED is up there for reading. /shameless self-promotion/

Thanks again for reading. I still get the reviews and the favorites and feel the love for this story. It's nice to know people liked Declan and Twist as much as I did and do.

Shadow