Epilogue-

"Plantkit!" Myrtleblossom eyes are twinkling with playful anger as she scoops her tom kit into her paws and licks him tenderly. The kit squeals in surprise, wiggling to escape the queen's grasp. Swanwave laughs beside the two, tail curled around his mate's back as she laughs. 

"Momma!" Plantkit huffs, his all white body shaking with with his dramatic sigh, "Come on, lemme go play!"  Swanwave gives little Plantkit a look before crouching to his level. 

"No, not right now," He says smoothly, voice soft, "We're showing off your beautiful self to the clan. Let us do that, will you?" Plantkit dissolves into tears as the realization hits him. He can't play right now. 

"No!" Plantkit argues, pounding his tiny paw on the ground, "I. Don't. Wanna!" Swanwave sighs. He's very clearly used to this, and his fur barely bristles. 

"Sorry, little guy," he smiles reassuringly, "I see why you're upset, but we can't play now. Maybe later?" The white and gray splotched tom's eyes are soft like Snapstar never was, his voice gentle. Plantkit's voice is small and choking with tears, 

"But...P-Play-" 

"No playing now," Myrtleblossom cuts in, "I'm sure Minnowrose would tell you a story if you went to the elder's den. She loves kits." Plantkit sniffles. 

"Sapchin's kits get to play moss ball!" the kit whines indignantly, "And they're smaller-" 

"But older," Myrtleblossom cuts in with a mrrow of amusement, "Soon they'll be 'paws." Plantkit whimpers sadly. 

"How's that my fault when I was born?" The kit squeaks angrily, "I'm more mature!"  The kit puffs out his chest feebly. Swanwave gives the tom a gentle lick, but his eyes are firm. 

"No more playing." 

                                                           ~~~

Sagestar trudges through mud and red-stained peat. His paws glide over it all, fur bristling and tail lashing. 

The line between two worlds is muddied with pawsteps, mostly little ones. Sagestar would know. He's seen tiny faces peeking at him as he sleeps (or tries, it's mostly unsuccessful.) Sagestar likes to wave his tail at the tiny faces; they squeal and cover their faces in fear. It's strange, having to turn away alone. 

There are other cats here, obviously, but they stick to themselves, as Sagestar does. Moons of loneliness and hunger has done him in so much that kits coming to the line on a dare is excitement, and he stays to watch. 

Today is no different, his eyes flicking into the sky to see the greener leaves. Sagestar will never see the stars again, he accepts that, but green leaves? That was always the reason Sagestar used to growl at the bratty kits with well-groomed pelts and nervous smiles. But now he smiles and waves, because even if they run, he needs them. This place is designed to break cats, but it hasn't broken Sagestar. He's still going. He's still sane. 

The kits are the only innocent faces he sees. He's seen the world below him, sure, but it isn't the same. There's a fog around their faces, their happiness, and it hurts to see Smoothpearl's kits grow. Rustwobble, Myrtleblossom, Snailstreak, Mallardcrack. In the split between Riverclan and Thunderclan Snailstreak left and Mallardcrack didn't ever return to Thunderclan. He must've wanted to stay where he had the most memories. Windclan. 

Smoothpearl's dead now. Every cat is. Frigidcall, Yewmist, Fallowshard. The world had moved on without Sagestar, thinking he was a bad cat. 

He was going to change. 

But that doesn't matter, because Smoothpearl was right. 

He is suffering. He's suffering so much.  

Ravenkit, now Ravenberry, is the ruler now. He has no mate, but he's a good leader. Better than Sagestar was. The clan is smaller, sadder, now, but Sagestar is fine with that. They deserve it. 

Sagestar scans the greener grass on Starclan's ground. It sparkles tauntingly, it's dewy layer tantalizing. A berry bush, carrying blue berries, ruffles. The world explodes with giggles and screeches, and Sagestar freezes at the sounds. Joy. Why this close to the edge? 

The tom watches silently as a kit tumbles from the bush. He stumbles back, eyes widening, as the kit turns his eyes upwards, mouth holding a huge moss ball. The same kit from his leader ceremony. Sagestar blinks. Maplekit...? The orange kit is accompanied by another cat, not a kit, not even close. He's huge and fluffy. Flicker...

The word is new, some-what, to Sagestar's mind, but he tries. He remembers. 

"Flickerfire?" 

The burly white tom looks up, and so does the kit as his paws. A few more kits peak from the bushes, eyes wide and horrified. Sagestar steps forward, wanting to reach for his kin. Flickerfire flinches back, eyes soft and calm. His tail wraps around a scared kit, who snuggles closer into his white fur. 

Flickerfire tilts his head and blinks. The tom swishes his tail. 

And then smiles. 

Sagestar blinks, surprised by the reaction, but then Flickerfire turns away, disappearing behind the bush, and the gaggle of kits follow like a sheep's flock. Sagestar stands staring, wanting to crawl over the line and beg for forgiveness. But he doesn't. 

He stands stupidly and stares at Starclan. The green trees, the healthy grass, the sun breaking through the trees and making the forest glow. He takes it in. Something he'll always have to see but never have. 

Sagestar's mind wanders as he sweeps his gaze over the sunlit place. What if he was better? What if he never killed Flickerfire? What if Snapstar was never born? 

Finally, as the tom looks over Starclan's territory, and then at his paws, at the muddied line, at The Dark Forest behind him, he wonders: 

What if he was on the other side?