forestclan-clangen

[forestclan-clangen]

MOON 16 (Part 1)

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Airpaw, Cottonpaw and Deerpaw are all amde apprentices. Redstar notices Cottonpaw's bold personality, and decides to mentor her herself to curb her impulsiveness. Iciclepool mentors Airpaw, and Riversnow mentors Deerpaw.

(Redstar, leader, female, 74 moons. Strict.) (Iciclepool, deputy, female, 72 moons. Ambitious.) (Riversnow, warrior, female, 65 moons. Adventurous.) (Airpaw, apprentice, male, 6 moons. Charismatic.) (Cottonpaw, apprentice, female, 6 moons. Bold.) (Deerpaw, apprentice, female, 6 moons. Righteous.)

Cottonpaw tells Redstar something that makes the leader's blood turn cold. Cottonpaw got a dream from StarClan as a kit. She believes she's a part of a prophecy, and tells her about the flat ree in the shape of a crow's foot at night. Redstar tells her to abandon the idea that it's a prophecy, and to leave it to the adults. Cottonpaw grows frustrated by this.

(Redstar, leader, female, 74 moons. Strict.) (Cottonpaw, apprentice, female, 6 moons. Bold.)

Frustrated, Cottonpaw sneaks out in the middle of the night to try and figure out StarClan's message. She is forcibly tailed by Deerpaw, who refuses to let her go alone.

(Cottonpaw, apprentice, female, 6 moons. Bold.) (Deerpaw, apprentice, female, 6 moons. Righteous.)

---

Cottonpaw was frustrated.

She told Redstar about her dream she received from StarClan. When she had the dream, she hesitated telling anyone about it. She was a kit, why would anyone believe her? Maybe she was just imagining things. Maybe she made a mistake.

But then, when Redstar made her an apprentice, she said she'd be her mentor. Hope crackled in her heart. Redstar had to see something in her, then, like StarClan did. So, she went to her mentor with her dream, hoping that Redstar would take her seriously. This was an opportunity to do the right thing, and to investigate StarClan's message - find the dead tree at night time.

She was heartbroken when Redstar responded with bristled fur and insistence that she never cross the road, and to please put aside that idea, especially at her age. When Cottonpaw tried to argue that StarClan asked her to, Redstar said that not all dreams were from StarClan. After Cottonpaw bickered angrily for several minutes, Redstar acquiesced to speak about it with the medicine cats and Iciclepool, and if necessary, they would send out a patrol to that area. But it was not their territory, and she should abandon her desire to be a hero. Apprentices did not go out into the territory alone.

She didn't want to be a hero. Or - okay, fine, maybe she wanted to be respected. But she wasn't stupid. She knew how dangerous it was - she saw the Living Tendrils when Owlkit and Daffodilkit were born. She saw how badly Perchpaw was injured, and she knew that the mother of the three outsider kits was killed by a Woodcrawler.

But Cottonpaw was tired of seeing her Clanmates afraid. If what she received was a prophetic dream, wasn't it the right thing to investigate? What if it was important? What if it could help them? Cottonpaw thought that all of her clanmates were just scared. Woodcrawlers weren't supernatural. They were animals. Animals could be chased off. She didn't understand why Redstar wouldn't even consider it.

Cottonpaw knew that nobody would let her leave camp alone, but nobody would take her dream seriously either. So, she had no choice. She would have to sneak out, while cats were asleep.

She didn't expect to hesitate as she found herself standing on top of the mounted walls.

Her and her siblings knew about the poking branch on the wall by the outside of the nursery. It was hidden by lots of bushes, so it was hard to see. But the three were excited when they discovered that they could climb this branch. It was sturdy enough to use as a footstool, and they used it often to peek just above the camp walls. They kept it secret, and used it sparingly to look out into the great unknown.

But today, she was going to use it for good. The Clan could yell at her later all they wanted.

The crickets chirped. There was no wind to make the trees dance. The world was eerily still, and the fact that she was about to step into the woods without any fanfare or resistance was…surprising, to say the least.

Cottonpaw didn't know how long she stood there until she heard an aggressive whisper coming from below.

"What are you doing?"

Cottonpaw's head whipped around to see her sister, Deerpaw, glaring at her from below. Her tail twitched in anger.

Cottonpaw bristled. "Deerpaw? What are you - "

"I asked you first!" Deerpaw hissed. She scrambled her way up, sitting next to Cottonpaw. Cottonpaw looked away from her sister, searching for a reasonable answer.

"I'm just keeping guard," Cottonpaw meowed, licking her arm.

"Guard for what?'

"You know…dangers."

Deerpaw's copper eyes narrowed skeptically.

Cottonpaw bristled. Deerpaw was always the more perceptive one out of the three of them. When she was younger, this meant Deerpaw found things that Airpaw and Cottonpaw didn't. She would ask too many questions and object when her two siblings wanted to try something just a little adventurous for the day. She would accuse Deerpaw of being too nervous. Deerpaw would retort that she had every reason to worry.

Deerpaw wouldn't understand. But she was an apprentice now, not a kit. She couldn't stop herself from doing the right thing just because her sister was anxious. StarClan asked her to find something, and she was going to do it.

She paused before turning to her sister, and meeting her gaze. Out of the three of them, Cottonpaw was the only cat not to inherit their mother's eyes.

"A few weeks ago, before the three outsider kits showed up, I got a really strange dream."

Deerpaw raised an eyebrow and twitched her tail. Cottonpaw continued.

"I remembered Windfur and Redstar telling us what dreams from StarClan are like. Their signs are hard to notice, but when you do, you can follow them, and discover important omens. Well, I got one. And it asked me to cross the road, and find a tall, dead tree that looked like a crow's foot, with too many talons."

Deerpaw tensed, her expression unreadable. "Cottonpaw, a dream is just a dream."

"But this wasn't a normal dream. I know it wasn't. I've only ever dreamed of stuff I've seen before, or stories I've heard. No one has ever mentioned something like that to me, ever. It has to be important."

"Then why don't you tell Redstar?"

"I did, but she didn't listen," Cottonpaw hissed. "But I know it's important."

"Well, it's not like you can just go there in the middle of the night."

There was a long, tense silence as the sisters stared at one another. When Deerpaw saw the seriousness in Cottonpaw's eyes, her fur bristled and her eyes widened.

"No."

"Nobody's going to let me go during the day. If I do this right, I can leave and come back in thirty minutes." Cottonpaw jumped down from the wall, outside of the camp.

"Cottonpaw, no," Deerpaw gasped. She hesitated before leaping down and inserting herself in front of her. "I can't let you do this!"

"I was asked to by StarClan, Deerpaw. They showed me that for a reason," Cottonpaw retorted, her tail twitching.

"They didn't ask you anything! You can't prove that dream was from StarClan!" Deerpaw hissed.

Cottonpaw's tail twitched in aggravation, feeling hurt and defensive. Great, just like every other cat, they thought she was stupid. "Like you would know what a dream from StarClan is like, you've never gotten one," she hissed.

Deerpaw froze, as though her sister wounded her. Her expression changed into fear. "Cottonpaw, please. You can't. Don't you remember Redstar's history lessons? About apprentice trials?"

Cottonpaw's whiskers twitched. Yes, she remembered them. About how apprentices were forced out of camp for eight hours, and asked to survive in the woods without any prior training. But they had basic training. They were all shown around the territory yesterday, and today they had sparring lessons. And she wasn't going to be out for long - just long enough for her to check where that dead tree was.

"I'll be out for thirty minutes, not eight hours."

"Cottonpaw, it's dangerous out there, please don't do this," Deerpaw protested.

Cottonpaw steeled her resolve. She knew Deerpaw wouldn't understand. She always felt safer in camp. But Cottonpaw heard stories of those who came before her, and actually remembered them. She heard the whispers about Warblerkit, Riversnow's first kit. She heard about two littermates she never met - taken from her mother when they were born. She heard about all the cats that died and left before Redstar was made leader. She remembered how Talontooth was there one moment, and gone the next. She saw how three newborns were brought to camp, and how they held a funeral and grieved for their mother. A core memory of her childhood was how she watched Redstar leave at nightfall, and return with heavy eyelids.

Cats suffered, every day. And if there was even a chance, even the slightest hope that she was being shown a way to lessen that suffering - then she would regret it every day.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to try."

"T-Then I'm coming with you."

Cottonpaw's hazel eyes widened and she took a step back. "Wait, Deerpaw - "

"I'm not going to let my sister get killed by the woods just because she wants to be a hero," Deerpaw retorted, her eyes were pools of anxiety and stubbornness. "I know you Cottonpaw, I'm your sister. I know if I just yell for the adults, you're going to bolt past me and be out there alone. I can't let you do that. So I'm coming with you."

Cottonpaw frowned, and Deerpaw met her sister's scowl evenly. The two apprentices glared at each other with flicking tails and folded ears. Finally, Cottonpaw sighed and looked away, having the sense to look a little remorseful.

"Okay. I swear we won't be long. I remember where the Thunderpath is, Redstar showed it to me and Airpaw today." Cottonpaw sauntered off past the camp walls. She heard her sister reluctantly trotting after her, an air of fear radiating off of her pelt.

Cottonpaw knew what she was doing was right. And maybe it sounded selfish - but part of her was glad that her sister was with her. At least now, she would feel less alone.

****

"COTTONPAW!"

"I said shut up! I know we're almost there!"

"No we're not! You didn't memorize anything at all, and now we're lost in the woods!" Deerpaw whined despairingly.

"Calm down, Pale Herald!" Cottonpaw hissed, her tail twitching. "We just made a wrong turn at a bush, but I recognize this path for sure!"

Cottonpaw had no idea where they were.

"For once in your mousebrained life, can you please just admit that you - "

"Quiet!" Cottonpaw hissed as she turned on her sister. She felt the anxiety rising in her throat. They had been walking for longer than she wanted to admit. She thought she had memorized the landmarks. She had to. The entire point of all of this relied on her knowing where the Thunderpath was.

"No, you quiet!" Deerpaw snarled. "You wanted to be a hero but you just can't! We're kits!"

Cottonpaw felt like Deerpaw's teeth sank in her chest. Her fur stood on end and her ears folded back. "StarClan spoke to me, Deerpaw."

"No they didn't!" Deerpaw's copper eyes were filled with anger. "They didn't, Cottonpaw. You said it was a dream. They didn't talk. They never talk. That's why we have medicine cats who go to the Half-Moon Dome!"

"But if we listen carefully -"

"But you don't, Cottonpaw. You don't listen. You don't listen to me, or to mom, or Redstar! You always think you know better than everyone else!"

Cottonpaw tensed, and her claws unsheathed. Deerpaw's lips curled into a snarl. The two sisters were a hair's length away from leaping at each other.

All fury vanished at the distant howl of a Twoleg scream.

The young apprentices' heads whipped towards the direction of the sound, their fur now bristling.

They'd never heard the sound of Twolegs before. But it had to be one. It couldn't possibly be anything else.

The sounds were alien to them. Birds, foxes, dogs, raccoons - their noises made sense. Barks, howls, chirps, songs. Cats could imitate some of the noises. They came from deep in their throats, or were pushed out from their lungs. Their jaws and beaks opened to allow the sound to escape them quickly. Sometimes they would keep their mouths closed - muffling a snarl or a hiss. The sounds were simple. They made sense.

Twoleg sounds were…different. Cottonpaw remembered listening to Tree telling them a story from their travels. Tree explained how Twolegs communicated. They described it like their teeth and tongues were conduits for their breath and voice - projecting it at wild angles that carved the air. And to top it off - they had these bits of flexible skin around their mouths - and would use them to weave sound in ways that were indescribable. Twolegs could move their tongues and mouths in way that other animals could not. Twoleg sounds could not be compared to anything else that existed in nature. They were its own genre of noise - they were Twoleg. Beautiful in their uniqueness.

But what they heard was anything but beautiful. It was horrifying.

Cottonpaw and Deerpaw stood frozen, listening to the Twoleg screaming over and over, starting and stopping repeatedly. Like a wolf's mourning howl, and the screech of a cougar. All at once. Over and over.

The Twoleg's call continued for a long time. Neither of the apprentices were eager to scan the treeline for the source of the noise. And to their relief, the noise seemed to be getting further away. Eventually, the noise stopped entirely.

Cottonpaw swallowed. She stared at her paws. She didn't realize that she was trembling.

StarClan...are you sure I should be here? Maybe...maybe I should take Deerpaw back home. To keep her safe. Maybe it should just be me. I could try tomorrow night, without her? she rationalized to herself. Yes, the dream she received was important. She KNEW it was. But...

Cottonpaw glanced at her sister, and was surprised to see that Deerpaw was already staring back at her intensely. There was a quiet, tacit agreement met between them. They needed to go home.

Cottonpaw forced herself to take a deep breath as she looked back out at the treeline. Okay…okay. Hold on. They could figure out where they were. They had noses for a reason. Cottonpaw lifted her nose and tasted the air, like she'd seen Redstar do before. She could only smell wood and pine. Deerpaw mimicked her, and seemingly caught something else, apprehensive.

"I smell something…weird," Deerpaw whispered. Cottonpaw tried to pick up the scent, and realized what her sister meant. It smelled a lot like the flat, gray path that Redstar had shown her, telling her that Twoleg monsters would thunder down it -

Cottonpaw's eyes widened. The Thunderpath!

"Wait, that's it!" Cottonpaw said excitedly. She ignored Deerpaw's hiss for her to quiet down. "That's the Thunderpath - the - the thing that borders our territory. Redstar showed it to me. If we follow the path, eventually we'll make it to the trail marker, and we'll see a clear path back to camp!"

Deerpaw stared at her sister with dread. "Cottonpaw, the smell is coming from past there," she gestured with her tail into the undergrowth, in the direction of where they last heard the Twoleg. "We can't go towards it."

"Come on, the Twoleg's gone. And this is the only way we'll find our way back for sure," Cottonpaw pressed. She carefully slinked down lower as she brushed off the path and into the undergrowth. As she turned around and looked at her indignant sister, Cottonpaw frowned. "Deerpaw, look, I know that you're mad - "

"We don't know what's in there! What if there's…there's a Woodcrawler in the undergrowth?" Deerpaw sputtered.

"There's not gonna be a Woodcrawler, Deerpaw, we'd smell it first. Besides, we're only going to the Thunderpath. Woodcrawlers don't attack in the open, remember? That's why we dunno what their faces look like," Cottonpaw reassured, her tail held high. Deerpaw stared at her sister warily. Cottonpaw still felt a pang of anger, remembering her sister's accusations, and she allowed it to cloud her next words.

"Look, Deerpaw, you say I never listen? Well, I'm listening. What's your plan to get home otherwise?" she hissed.

Deerpaw bristled in response. There was a long pause where both mollies stared at each other, unmoving under the passive sounds of the night. Bitterly, Deerpaw replied, "Fine," before she got up and walked past her into the brush.

Cottonpaw kept her tail high as she trotted after her. Her sister would thank her later.

The two apprentices trudged their way towards the Thunderpath - Deerpaw more prudently than Cottonpaw. Deerpaw stopped and sniffed at the air often, her eyes darting around her rapidly, as though anticipating a monster emerging from the overgrowth at any moment. Cottonpaw also kept an eye out, but her attention was focused on the goal. The brown tabbies slinked out from the ferns, and Cottonpaw's hazel eyes beamed with excitement as a massive, dark grey cement path came into view.

"Here it is! And look, there's the weird Twoleg marker across the way, and you can see their nests behind the treeline," Cottonpaw pointed out, gesturing at a giant, square sign with strange symbols. Deerpaw stared at the sign, then grunted in acknowledgement.

The two carefully followed the Thunderpath, moving north towards the direction of camp. Or at least, Cottonpaw thinks it's north, but all she knew was that Redstar told her the Twoleg Greenleaf nests were further down the Thunderpath. If they were there now, then the trail marker had to be up from there. That just made sense. Cottonpaw looked behind her, watching her sister glance around her.

"Hey…it's gonna be okay."

"I hope so," Deerpaw meowed glumly.

Cottonpaw kept quiet after that.

As they padded further away from the Twoleg cabins, tall rows of spruce trees replaced diverse flora and trees. The full moon glowed dimly behind dark clouds. Time passed, and Cottonpaw recognized the border that Redstar had shown her. Deerpaw must've noticed it too, as her eyes glimmered with hope.

And maybe, that would've been it. The two lost apprentices would've looked towards the trees on their side of the territory, noticed the claw marks that denoted a main path back to camp, and they could've slinked back into their nests with no one noticing they were ever gone.

That was, if Cottonpaw hadn't looked at the other side of the border, and noticed a familiar dark trail.

A long dirt path, bordered by arching pines on the other side of the Thunderpath, with a long darkness cloaking its entrance.

The same path that Cottonpaw saw in her dream. The one she had been looking for this entire time.

Cottonpaw's heart raced. Her eyes widened. This is it.

She hesitated. Her mind was in disarray. She thought she heard Deerpaw call her name hesitantly. Then forcefully.

She should go back.

And yet, she remembered the stories.

She remembered the stories Tree and Shiverstep told her - of cats who were scared, but did the right thing in the end. She remembered Hopechase and Redstar's history lessons, about how Lakestar was removed from power. Of the cats who stood up for what was right and died to make it so.

She didn't want to die.

She thought of her mother. Her brother. Deerpaw. Perchpaw.

She had to have been shown that vision for a reason. Her, instead of Shiverstep, or Windfur. There had to be a reason. Right?

Everyone was too scared to go out on the other side of the territory. Even Redstar was scared.

"This is the path I saw," Cottonpaw said. "The path to the dead tree."

"Cottonpaw, no! Come on, please, please let's just go back to camp - "

Cottonpaw's heart sank in her chest.

"But Deerpaw..."

"Sis, please, please just listen to me -"

The world spun out too quickly. Only seconds had passed for Cottonpaw to dash across the Thunderpath and onto the forest trail, with Deerpaw frantically chasing after her, calling her name in desperation.

Cottonpaw recognized the tall trees. The arching pines. Yes. Yes, this was it. She remembered it so clearly. She could see the end of the path! If she could make it to the end, then she'd see the dead tree, and see what the sign meant, and then they could go home. They could go home and her midnight escapade wouldn't have been a risky, mousebrained and worthless endeavour, she could actually go back home feeling proud of what she had done instead of feeling like it was all for nothing -

Cottonpaw skidded to a halt as she made it to the mouth of the tunnel, where she was stopped in her dream. She felt Deerpaw slam into her from behind with a loud "oof", but Cottonpaw remained sturdy on her feet as her eyes desperately scanned the clearing.

"Cotton - "

"There," Cottonpaw interjected, her hazel eyes wide with astonishment.

Under the haze of the clouded stars, in the middle of the clearing, was the tall, dead tree, flat like a crow's foot. Just like in her dream.

And at the base of the tree, was the silhouette of a dark brown tabby, their back facing the two apprentices. Excitement trembled through Cottonpaw's body - this was exactly like in her dream! This was the exact moment before she was forced to wake up, when she tried to step into the clearing and the cat turned around -

"Cottonpaw?" Deerpaw's voice trembled. It caught the bolder sister off guard, and she turned to look at her. Deerpaw did not meet her gaze. She stared straight into the clearing, her eyes shifting left to right with unease. Her mouth parted open and whispered, "I'm scared. I want to go back."

"I know. We will. I promise, we will," Cottonpaw reassured. She tried to press her nose against her sibling's, only for Deerpaw to turn her head away. Her copper eyes were glazed with dread. She swallowed.

"I want to go now," Deerpaw insisted. Cottonpaw shook her head, looking back at the clearing.

"Look - there's a cat over there. That's who StarClan wanted to show me." Cottonpaw gestured with her tail at the figure in the distance. "What if they need help?"

Deerpaw tore her eyes away from the treeline, and towards the figure. She said nothing.

Cottonpaw was determined. This had to be the reason she was guided here - now, she was certain of it. She shuffled on her feet, trying to find the words to reassure Deerpaw. It was this same fear that drove her clanmates to ignore her. "I know you're scared, Deerpaw. You don't have to follow me if you don't want to. But I want to make sure that cat's okay."

Deerpaw shook her head vigorously, then placed her paw on Cottonpaw's shoulder, pulling her back. "Please. Don't. I have a bad feeling."

"About what?"

"Just…just stop. Listen."

"I'm listening."

"No, I mean actually listen." Deerpaw brought her tail to her mouth, and swivelled her ears. Cottonpaw paused, confused. Did she hear something out there?

For the sake of her sister - she stopped. She listened.

She didn't understand what she was talking about. She didn't hear any weird noise. There was no cracking undergrowth. No cicadas, or owls.

...No tree frogs. Or crickets.

Cottonpaw's fur slowly prickled.

Where...where were the crickets? Why was it so quiet?

Deerpaw's gaze morphed into a pleading expression. Deerpaw desperately hoped her sister picked up on the eerie silence. Surely now, she would feel unsettled enough to drop this. And yet still, Cottonpaw struggled to let go. Slowly, Cottonpaw turned her head back to the clearing.

She failed to suppress a gasp as the unknown cat had turned around and stalked towards them silently. Deerpaw yowled in surprise. Cottonpaw hissed involuntarily, startled more by her sister than the cat approaching them. The stranger froze, then spoke; their voice haggard and rough, but undoubtedly a molly.

"Who's there?!"

"N-No one!" Cottonpaw sputtered.

Oh, that was mousebrained. That was so mousebrained.

Clearly, the stranger thought so too, as she hissed in response.

"Sorry, we're sorry!" Deerpaw sputtered in terror, her voice strained. Deerpaw recoiled with her tail between her legs. "We didn't mean to bother you, w-we didn't mean to be this far from out camp - "

"Camp?" The stranger's green eyes narrowed, and she continued trudging forward, tail thrashing. In a moment of brief clarity, Cottonpaw realized that she had no idea what to say. As the cat grew closer, their form became clearer, and more gruesome - she suppressed a gasp as the left side of the cat's face was torn and scabbed over, creating stark asymmetry. It looked horrible.

"How old are you?" the stranger barked.

"What?" Cottonpaw stammered, then recovered quickly. "Um - we're six moons. We mean you no harm, honest. I just saw that you were by that odd tree, and, well - "

"Six moons?" the stranger repeated. The disgust and aghast they said it with startled the two apprentices into going mum. Several long seconds passed in strained silence before the stranger repeated again, stepping forward with a hard glare, "You are six moons old?"

Cottonpaw swallowed. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure if the cat needed help anymore. She could feel Deerpaw trying hard not to tremble. Cottonpaw thought of how Redstar looked at the top of High Rock, and puffed up her chest, holding her tail high. Cottonpaw forced her voice to be as confident as possible.

"Is that a problem?"

The cat stopped. She was no more than a few fox-lengths away now, and Cottonpaw could see the intensity burning in their green eyes. The lack of response resulted in the painfully eerie silence reigning around them again. No crickets. No tree frogs. No birds. Cottonpaw pretended she was staring down a tyrant. She was brave. She was brave, and she…

What was she doing?

As Cottonpaw continued to meet the gaze of the ragged, adult cat before her, a rogue seething with aggression, something sank in her chest. She failed to suppress it under the weight of the silence. What was she doing? What did she expect? Did she miss something from StarClan's message? Her memories scattered across her mind. She replayed the ending moments of the dream over and over. She saw nothing. No explanations. No indications.

Who even was this cat?

What was the point?

Dread knotted itself around her stomach. No. There had to be a point. There had -

Cottonpaw's fur bristled as a loud, exasperated laugh burst from the rogue. They threw their head back and laughed, and laughed, and growled and spat with fury.

"Why am I fucking surprised?" the dark brown tabby snarled. "Monsters. Complete monsters. All of them, each and every single one of them. They haven't changed at all."

"W-What are you talking about?" Deerpaw mewed, her voice tight with confusion and fear.

"You were thrown to the beasts, you poor kits. Oh, you poor, poor kits. You didn't deserve this," the cat's voice progressively became more and more chagrined, their eyes glazed with pain.

"What do you mean?" Cottonpaw hissed.

Green eyes whipped back towards Cottonpaw. The rogue's expression was warped with blanketed hate. And for a brief moment, Cottonpaw remembered Redstar's announcement from a moon ago - about a dark brown tabby with an injured face. A rogue that Shiverstep and Brackenfreckle saw when rescuing Shadekit, Blackkit and Nectarkit.

"Wait," Cottonpaw gasped, scrambling over her thoughts. "Are…are you Endless?"

"What?" Deerpaw gaped at her sister in confusion, but Endless let out a low growl.

"Your Clan has abandoned you, thrown you to the woods."

"Wait - no they haven't!" Cottonpaw protested, her tail thrashing. Endless continued relentlessly.

"You were asked to prove your worth, and you are children. Do you not see that? Is your loyalty to your cult more valuable than your own lives?"

"Wait, wait, please, there's a misunderstanding!" Cottonpaw stammered, her eyes wide. Oh no. Oh no, did she think that they were on an apprentice trial? But those were so long ago! How could this cat think -

A loud, wailing scream pierced the silence.

A Twoleg scream.

From the edges of the clearing, tall, gangling figures emerged from the woods. Their arms were pulled out to their sides unnaturally, and they wobbled forward with their legs unbending. The first to emerge continued its cry, screaming over and over. The same scream Deerpaw and Cottonpaw had heard earlier before. The others slowly staggered out, their faces and bodies engulfed in red vines. Their eyes bulged out of their heads.

Endless' back arched, and she bore her teeth at the approaching creatures. Her eyes were wild with fury.

"Lay down your arms, lay down your arms, you have your meal in the pit, the Twolegs have fed, they have fed," Endless repeated forcefully. Her claws unsheathed as the first Twoleg disregarded Endless' warnings, as though it didn't hear her.

Cottonpaw felt her tail falling and slowly curling between her legs as the Twoleg shambled closer. Still screaming. Still yowling. Over and over, the exact same sounds. Cottonpaw felt her fur brush against her sister's as she recoiled, stepping back onto the old path. Deerpaw was shaking, her eyes wide with terror.

The Twoleg stopped two fox-lengths from Endless.

It was a curse that the night clouds cleared from the sky, revealing a sliver of the moon. Its light faintly cast onto the clearing below, and onto the Twoleg shapes.

In a brief moment of clarity, Cottonpaw felt realizations surge through her all at once.

First, she understood now why the adults never incorporated Woodcrawlers as the antagonists of stories. She never understood it before. She thought, maybe, they were just too scared of them. And she could show them how to not be afraid. She was wrong.

Second, she had never seen a Twoleg before. But she knew, she knew with every fiber of her being, this was not a Twoleg.

"Kits," Endless hissed under quiet breath. Cottonpaw glanced fearfully at the rogue, and her blood ran cold as she saw her fear. "Run north. Keep running. Until the stone wall stops. Go to the barn."

Cottonpaw could barely process what Endless was saying. And everything in her told her to run home. To camp.

"Cottonpaw…" Deerpaw's voice was a high-pitched, fearful whine. "Is that…a…"

The Fake Twoleg stopped trembling. It stopped screaming.

And turned.

Cottonpaw felt her claws rake the dirt. "That's not a Twoleg."

The Fake Twoleg turned its feet in their direction.

"That's NOT a Twoleg."

It burst into a sprint.

"RUN!" Cottonpaw screeched.

Cottonpaw and Deerpaw scrambled and bolted back from the way they came, adrenaline surging through their mind as hot, greenleaf air boiled through their lungs. The world around them became a furious blur of noise and shadows. Dried pines kicked backwards under their steps. The thunderous stomps of the Fake Twoleg were accompanied by Endless' furious screeching and the sound of pine branches being plowed out of the way.

Deerpaw was ahead of her, she had to stay ahead of her, she couldn't look back, she couldn't -

The grey Thunderpath yawned before them. Her claws scrapped the cement. Stomps against dirt turned into hammering on stone.

"KEEP GOING!" Cottonpaw yowled as she watched her sister turn her head to look behind her.

Deerpaw's eyes flew open, and she screamed, "WATCH OUT!"

Cottonpaw skidded to the left instinctively, and her heart lurched as two giant arms swiped to grab her, only to miss her by a hair. Her eyes met the Twolegs' for only a moment.

Their single, brown eye wavered.

It wavered.

Before the Fake repositioned -

A dark brown blur screeched and threw itself at the Fake's head, claws thrashing and jaws tearing at one of the roots. The Fake stumbled, its arm flailed backward in an unnaturally bent position as Endless shook her head violently like a rabid dog - like the roots were tangled strings puppetting the wrong pieces.

It was by the miracle of StarClan that Endless leapt off before its mangled hand could grab her.

"GO!" Endless howled before dashing back into the woods towards the pit.

Cottonpaw felt her body turn numb. She felt her sister bite into her scruff and pull her into the forest, and the once-bold apprentice stumbled before running off blindly beside her sister, not knowing which target the Fake decided to follow. She didn't dare look back.

The sound of panting and rapid paws on the forest floor overwhelmed all senses above the silence of the woods. All thoughts of the tree markers, the path back to the camp, all of it was lost to the wind. Run. Run. Run. That was the only thing that invaded Cottonpaw's body. The only thing driving her actions. Run. Her eyes darted. Tree. Tree. Bush. Leaves. Pine. Deerpaw. Deerpaw's tail. Pelt. Ears. Panting. Hot. It was so hot. Deerpaw was heaving. Her ears were pounding with blood.

Then, the world spun out. Cottonpaw was stunned. Her body collided with Deerpaw's, and the air was knocked out of her as the two apprentices suddenly tumbled over each other. They rolled out of control until their bodies skidded to a halt in the middle of a wide clearing. Cottonpaw felt dizzy. Did...did Deerpaw stop? Did she crash into her sister? She panted, gasping for air. She hear Deerpaw scrambling to her feet, hyperventilating.

"Stay back, stay back," Deerpaw spat between her pants, her fur bristling. But then, she froze. Her eyes flickered.

Cottonpaw forced herself to her feet, nauseous. "Where is it? Where..." Cottonpaw looked behind where they came from.

She saw nothing.

The two siblings heaved gulps of air into their lungs, staring out at the undergrowth they came from.

The droning noise of cicadas played. Crickets chirped. Far away, there were choruses of bullfrogs bellowing.

Nothing followed.

The sounds of the forest came back. Loud, harmonized, united. There was life here. Home was here.

Cottonpaw's legs trembled. As the adrenaline evaporated from her legs, she collapsed to the floor, panting.

"We did it," she squeaked. "We did it."

"You mousebrain," Deerpaw heaved. Her voice wavered. Deerpaw whipped her gaze towards her sister, her copper eyes filled with fury. "You...you mousebrained raccoon!"

Cottonpaw sat up, dizzy, meeting her sister's eyes. She saw the anger pulsing in them. She felt numb. Her heart raced.

Deerpaw suppressed a sob, approaching her sister until her face was inches away from hers. Her whiskers quivered as she snarled. "I told you, I said we needed to go back, but you still didn't listen to me!"

Cottonpaw stared blankly.

"We're just kits! We're barely out of the nursery! We don't know anything! We don't know anything!" Deerpaw cried, then shoved her sister with her front paws. Cottonpaw staggered back. She didn't reply.

"We could've died! We could've died because you wanted to chase a dream from dead ancestors! We could've - you could've died!" Deerpaw spat, her ears pulled back and her tail tucked beneath her. "You could've died! I could've lost my sister! My best friend in this whole wide world, all because you wanted to be a hero, but what about me?! What about Airpaw, what about mom?! Why is being my sister not enough?!" Deerpaw sobbed and tried pushing Cottonpaw again, but it held no strength. Deerpaw collapsed into a sitting heap, wailing as she buried her head into her sister's chest. "You...you mangy, maggot-infested, mouse-brained foxheart!"

Cottonpaw stared into space. Her legs felt numb.

She couldn't think. Her mind tore pieces of itself and played across her memory. Playing with Deerpaw and Airpaw. Throwing a mossball at Perchpaw. Her mother blinking slowly at her, purring loudly. The end of her dream. Redstar assigning herself as her mentor. Redstar telling her not to chase that dream. Her choice to do it anyway. The furious Endless. The Twoleg's wavering eye.

The eye was alive.

Her sister, sobbing.

Cottonpaw opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, trying to find something to say. An excuse. A bright side. A plan for the future.

She had nothing.

"I..." she stammered. Finally, after a time that felt like a thousand seasons, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

Deerpaw's sobbing only grew louder.

Cottonpaw only felt her heart tighten. StarClan...why? she asked.

Nothing answered.

After a time that felt like a thousand years, Cottonpaw felt her heart beat slowing. The heat from her body slowly seeped away. She blinked. She felt her mind wander placidly.

Until...she thinks...she realized where they were. The clearing. This was the training clearing. Or the Glimpse Clearing, as their mother called it. There was the view of the mountain, beyond the trees. The view of the lake below it.

On the surface of the lake...pale light shone. Speckles of starlight reflected back at her. Cottonpaw slowly panned her eyes towards the sky.

Her eyes widened with awe.

Deerpaw barely managed to subdue her distress for long enough to lift her head from her sister's chest. She stared at Cottonpaw, then warily followed her gaze above. She blinked. Her bristled pelt slowly fell flat.

The sky above was dappled with countless stars. The smokey river of Silverpelt painted itself with light blues and smokey whites, granting passage to the light of their ancestors. The moon basked the world below, giving gentle shadows to the trees and the mountain. The rolling hills beyond the mountain were dark blue in the night. The flat, still surface of the lake was disrupted by an aquatic bird gently moving across its surface, creating soft ripples. The long, serene call of a common loon echoed against the night.

For a moment, the apprentices just stared at the scene before them. Their eyes wide with awe. Their hearts filled with quiet wonder, and respite. Deerpaw suppressed a sniffle. Neither of them spoke. There was nothing to say. Cottonpaw gently sat next to her, and leaned her head on her sister's. Deerpaw returned the gesture, resting her head on her sister's shoulder.

Despite everything...maybe things were okay.

Maybe they'd be okay.

"I'm sorry. You're right. You were right. And I was mousebrained. Good for nothing, mangy mousebrain," Cottonpaw meowed, her voice tight.

"...You're not mangy," Deerpaw protested weakly.

"I just...I didn't know," Cottonpaw continued. The brief second of vulnerability created a crack in the dam. "They were all scared. I thought I could be braver. I thought I could help. Show them what was possible, if they weren't scared. I knew cats died. But I didn't know. I just wanted my clanmates to not be so afraid. I didn't know. I didn't know that Woodcrawlers turned things into...into..."

Deerpaw remained quiet as Cottonpaw suppressed wails. She started gently grooming at her sister's pelt. Eventually, Cottonpaw hiccuped, then felt embarrassed. She tried pushing her sister away with her paw. "Stop. I'm mangy."

"Yeah, well, a mangy cat needs to be cleaned," Deerpaw retorted. Cottonpaw snorted, but said nothing in response. After a few more minutes of listening to the loon's call and the bellowing of bullfrogs, Cottonpaw meowed, "I recognize this place. It's the Glimpse Clearing."

Deerpaw blinked, then looked behind them. A long, straight path was paved. Deerpaw's tail twitched.

"That's...the way back to camp."

"Yeah."

"Well...I guess we should go back now."

"...Yeah..."

"...Can we look at the sky for just one more minute?"

"...Yeah...I'd like that..." ---

When they get back to camp, everyone was despairing at the thought that they were dead. Redstar is livid, but her attempts at scolding are overriden by Cloudthunder being ecstatic that they're alive.

(Redstar, leader, female, 74 moons. Strict.) (Cloudthunder, warrior, female, 49 moons. Adventurous.) (Cottonpaw, apprentice, female, 6 moons. Bold.) (Deerpaw, apprentice, female, 6 moons. Righteous.)

Airpaw feels betrayed. Did neither of his sisters think about him before they left? Why didn't they say anything?

(Airpaw, apprentice, male, 6 moons. Charismatic.) (Cottonpaw, apprentice, female, 6 moons. Bold.) (Deerpaw, apprentice, female, 6 moons. Righteous.)

<PREVIOUS | NEXT>

[forestclan-clangen]

Fan art of Rootgrove for the wonderful @forestclan-clangen

I hope you enjoy it

[forestclan-clangen]

Camp Clan Week 2: Sightseeing Week

Hope y'all campers had fun with last week's prompts! We'll be trotting into Week Two of Camp Clan with a nice hike in the woods, or an obstacle course for those campers feeling a little more competitive!

This week's main prompt:

-Sightsee the Territory

Draw and/or write about your character(s) exploring Camp Clan's territory! As a summer getaway, the Camp Clan territory is huge, and host to all sorts of environments.

This week's alternate prompt:

-Camp Clan Obstacle Course

If you just can't get rid of all that energy, come check out the Camp Clan obstacle course! Draw/write about your character overcoming challenging physical hurdles. The next prompt will be posted on August 15th. Show off your entries with the hashtag "#ccc camp clan 2025"!

[forestclan-clangen]

I absolutely love this story so far, your a really good writer, and while I skipped a couple times on reading the whole thing, the glimpses I caught I still really loved!, and then I went and read the whole thing, and HOLY-, followed, immediately- clinging to hope that our favorite kitty survives, and I wish I’d been around during the most recent vote to talk, I wanna whisper and tell her it’s okay and she’s okay- RootPINEgrove too, I just wanna pet him and tell him he’s okey- I don’t wanna lose my hands or life though, so I must not petz- TwT-

Anygay’s, I have a question rq- in your opinion, what counts as a ClanGen comic?- not trying to be rude! I just- doing a comic myself rn that is ClanGen based and I plan to do everything in my power to get the right events [maybe even build up a quick save and assign events that happen in it to cats-], but the clan I built isn’t in-game, and so, I’m kinda confused on where it stands- I’m kinda afraid some people are going to got mad if I DON’T label it ClanGen when it’s very ClanGeny, but at the same time, is it ClanGen if the clan isn’t actually in a save?- you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to- I- I just figured I’d ask, get an opinion on the matter-

Aaah thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed reading! I know it’s a LOT of fuckin reading so I have no expectation that people read all of it from the beginning LOL. But I appreciate anyone who does!

Honestly, I’m a bit of a “traditionalist” in the sense that I define a comic as quite literally a comic - a sequence of images with speech bubbles that tell a story. Heck, I don’t consider my own Clangen a “comic”, because like 85% of it is all fanfic writing. But honestly, it sounds like your hangup is whether or not you should be “allowed” to make a ClanGen comic while you aren’t actually using it and Im just here like. Man whatever life is too short lol. When you are creating something, does that thing spark joy? Do you like the act of creating the work you are doing? Are you having fun? If yes, then man, who cares what total strangers on the internet think. If you made a Warrior cats fanclan and want to write a story, then you don’t NEED ClanGen at all. Fanfiction, fan clans and roleplays have existed before ClanGen was ever made, so no, you really don’t need it to write a story you have fun with.

Even so, I wouldn’t hinge your desire to be creative on one person’s opinion. I’m just one random internet stranger lol :P

[forestclan-clangen]

Gibe order of interest for new worldbuilding. yeet

It is late at night and my meds have worn off, disregard stupid title wording. Or laugh. both are acceptable lmao

[forestclan-clangen]

Are we allowed to know what would have happened with the other choices (pit and array) or are those spoilers?

Already answered in a prior ask! :)

[forestclan-clangen]

Hi, I love this blog, and I am fascinated by the story. I haven't gotten too far into reading it in order, but it's really great! I was also wondering if you might have some tips for someone starting their own ClanGen horror blog? Mine isn't a comic, just written story, and I have no idea if people are even interested in that with these things. Just wondering if there is any advice you can share with a beginner.

Thank you for reading! I'm glad you're enjoying it thus far <3 I detailed some advice during an ask game here that may help, but I can tack on a few more things that I found were helpful.

For horror specifically, keep in mind that horror relies on subversion of expectations. This is why I make use of in-game sprites and patrol art to detail most of my "moon events"! Because this is so frequent, when I insert actual drawn art, it surprises the reader, and sets a different tone. Even with pixel art, I can still surprise people! There's frequent moments where I do an ominous "zoom in" storyboard, mostly Shiverstep's trances on Moon 5 and Moon 8! And when something "wrong" starts to happen, the text box's text suddenly centers instead of aligning to the left. You don't have to do what I'm doing exactly, but breaking format is how you can build good horror. Funnily enough, this is also how you create comedy too! In writing, the changing of font size suddenly (not often! but sparingly used) can inflict dramatic tension too (If I mention the words, "She calls to you", some readers may get what I mean, lol)

Try to coax low-level involvement from readers after a few moons. Do polls, do worldbuilding, whatever seems neat to you. Don’t be afraid to reveal backstory unprompted! I know some people might go “but spoilers”, but sometimes telling readers about an upcomming event may build Hitchcockian suspense instead, where the readers KNOW there’s a monster hiding underneath the characters, they’ve been TOLD that it’s going to hurt the characters, but they haven’t been told WHEN and the characters are blissfully unaware, happy, having fun…seriously, sometimes telling readers about the spoiler increases the dread. Don’t tell EVERYTHING obviously, even I still have plot secrets, but spoilers don’t ruin a horror story entirely, if done right.

Have fun with your work. Seriously if you’re not throwing your characters into The Situation in a way that makes you giddy or cackling madly to yourself at the pain, then what’s the point. Be cringe. Kill the darlings. Make the cats really sad. If it makes you excited to write, then people will be excited to read.

Hope this helps!

EDIT: Oh, something minor that I find helps me personally that I just like doing, I show the first paragraph or two of the written update to “tease interest” before inserting a read more. It’s SUPER minor, but if your clangen is mostly writing, then you gotta show off the art a little. It elicits possible interest, and if they’re ok with the content, they’ll click the read more.

[forestclan-clangen]

Name Deep Dive: Barleywave

Barleywave is one of the only toms in ForestClan, and one of the most amusing or most frustrating characters, depending on who you ask. Barleywave is known for his playfulness and jokes with his clanmates, even if the jokes aren't wanted. He is also known for his aversion to conflict, and his difficulties with being vulnerable, even to those he cares for. Many of the founders of modern-day ForestClan understand where this chronic apprehension comes from, but with their Clan forging a new history for themselves, many cats believe that Barleywave has a lot of untapped potential and sincerity that he keeps unnecessarily buried. 

Barleywave was one of the last warriors to be named by the prior tyrannical leader, Lakestar. Given those circumstances, what kind of weight does his warrior name carry when he speaks to others? 

PREFIX: BARLEY -

"Barley" is a prefix that has its origins in the lost Clan of FieldClan. Barley, as a grain, does grow in wild patches closer to the Twoleg Greenleaf Place, but they're unquestionably a part of the long grasses that make up former FieldClan territory. "Barley" is a prefix that brings similar images to the prefixes of "Wheat", "Grain" or "Rye" - all of them tied to the image of long fields of tall grass that used to be cultivated in the lost FieldClan art of baking. As such, "Barley" is seen more as a historical prefix. A mother who gives their kit the prefix "Barley" is either a historian with a lot of expectations, or it's most likely being used in a lofty manner. ForestClan is able to see all the old territories from the top of the ridge, and the visual of a large field of golden grains gives a serene picture. 

Nowadays, "Barley" is mostly used in reference to the actual colors that barley come in - namely blue-green grasses, and dry golds during harvest periods. It's likely that Barleykit was named as such for his blue-grey pelt that darkened over time, with a happy coincidence that his eyes were a nice shade of hazel. 

SUFFIX: - WAVE

While we would typically think of oceans or seas when hearing the word "wave", due the lack of either near ForestClan, the suffix "-wave" brings other images to mind. Namely, the impact of a strong wind through treetops. Branches and leaves will "wave" as the wind passes through them, creating a ripple effect. More negatively, "wave" can bring images of flooded rivers and streams during rainy seasons, and how the water floods surrounding areas and creates strong currents in its wake. As such, a "wave" of something can be characterized as something sudden or powerful that impacts others around it. 

Alternatively, and one that Barleywave mentally tries to lean in to the most, is the actual act of something waving. ForestClan cats tend to wave their tails lightly in greeting, or twitch their tails when a moss ball is tossed their way. Something being waved is something being moved back and forth, and that could mean anything. Like many suffixes, how a cat interprets the suffix "wave" is almost entirely dependent on the prefix. A name like "Hopwave" would denote a cat that seems bouncy or energetic. Meanwhile, "Bluewave" would give the air of a large, imposing cat that has a strong presence. 

FULL NAME: BARLEYWAVE 

Barleypaw was an apprentice that always tried to keep his head down as much as possible, and shrugged off any uncomfortable situation or direct pressing with a joke or dismissal - perhaps even in situations that weren't appropriate. This behavior didn't go unnoticed by Lakestar, and she found that she only had to tell him to behave once for him to stay silent for the remainder of the day. He was lighthearted, but ultimately harmless. He seemed keen to repair walls and dens, and did well as a hunter. His lightheartedness did bring some occasional laugh and comfort to aggrieved clanmates, and it's with this in consideration that she gave him the name Barleywave. 

She intended to have his name bring something unassuming, like "a waving barley field". Something that was a bit lofty, but placid. Unbeknownst to Lakestar, she also provided him with a name that, in the very rare moments of him showing seriousness, brought cats to pause. With the prefix "Barley" being tied so closely to the memory of the lost Clans, and with the negative connotations of the "wave" suffix, his name could've also been interpreted as "a surge of forgotten skill", or "the torrent from Ancient FieldClan." 

There's only one time where the founders of modern-day ForestClan ever thought Barleywave reflected the more somber version of his name, and that was when his littermate was sent to death after one of Lakestar's abusive tirades. It was his tense silence and distance from his pro-Lakestar father that had Redstar and Iciclepool recognize that Barleywave would want to be a part of their rebellion against Lakestar. Barleywave was instrumental in deflecting and lying to Lakestar, often playing the idiot fool who couldn't be smart enough to plot a coup if he even tried. To purposefully use dried ragwort instead of rosemary for food seasoning? No, Lakestar thought. This idiot just needed to be kept away from herb stores and the cooking rack. Meanwhile, Cloudthunder learned her lesson the hard way to not try and plot a murder without the rest of the group knowing. But Barleywave took the role willingly. Whatever it took to hide the truth.

Barleywave has not been known for his openness, or his aggression for that matter. His ingrained habits of hiding his emotions were a valuable tool in the past, less so in a time post-trauma. While Barleywave's friends try not to push him too hard, they know that he has a lot of growing to do emotionally. While they know he tries to keep an air of lightness where he can, he severely underestimates how quickly his loyalty floods when called upon.

[forestclan-clangen]

Name Deep Dive: Morningspot

Name deep dives are a new addition to ForestClan lore, pulled directly from @rippleclan's own "name deep dives", where one learns about the prefix and suffixes used by the Clan, and their possible meanings! Names hold a lot of power in Clan culture, especially as they graduate from apprentices to warriors or medicine cats. In this very first Name Deep Dive, we'll go over the meaning behind Morningspot's name!

Morningspot as a character has a lot of anxiety in her chest. She has always been afraid of the Deep Root entities in the woods, and always wanted to find a way to escape the dangers, or prevent them from happening entirely. But Morningspot also has a kindness that attracts strangers towards her. She was the one who originally found and befriended Tree, and she was also the one who convinced Endless to accept treatment from Shiverpaw. Even the grumpy and prejudiced Bracken lowered her guard when Morningspot pleaded with her to come to camp. Despite the young molly's characterization as a nervous wreck, the narrative shows that underneath that fear, she is fiercely loyal and instinctively aggressive to whatever attacks her clanmates. So, how does her name contribute to how others see her?

PREFIX: MORNING -

The prefix "Morning" in ForestClan holds a degree of softness and warmth. "Morning" is a prefix usually given to kits with ginger, gold, light brown, white or cream pelts. Alternatively, it is given when a parent feels hope for a brighter tomorrow. This is rare, given how tumultuous ForestClan births tend to be. Morningkit was originally found by Cloudthunder, abandoned on the territory. She was given the name "Morning" in part due to her amber eyes, and her coloration.

The prefix "Morning" has similar connotations to the prefixes "Dawn" and "Warm". However, "Morning" is much more grounded in the present, as opposed to the lofty and hopeful "Dawn" or emotionally comforting "Warm". Clan cats have adopted more diurnal behaviors due to the risks that come with night time in Moonglight Acres, and as such, mornings are where cats perform most of their craft, patrols and cooking. The morning is also where most cats gather around and engage in polite small talk - offering each other food and showing apprentices new campkeeping skills. Mornings are some of the busiest parts of an average Clan day, rivaled only by the afternoons before sunset.

As a result, the prefix "Morning" reflects someone who is busy and alert, but still pleasant to be around.

SUFFIX: - SPOT

"Spot" has many different meanings to a Clan cat. Usually, the thought that immediately comes to mind are spotted patterns on a cat's pelt. It can also reflect a cat with patches of color on their fur - which Morningspot definitely matches with her mostly-white underside and her dark ginger back and tail. "Spot" is also used to denote specific locations on the territory - like herb spots, hunting spots or foraging spots. ForestClan keeps track of these locations, especially if they're seasonal, like vernal pools. On a lesser degree, "spot" can also be seen colloquially as a place to relax in camp - like a sunning spot, or being given a spot of catmint.

Being given the suffix "spot" hinges most of its implications on the prefix. A black and white cat being called "Blackspot" would simply be describing their appearance, while a cat named "Shadowspot" would evoke shadows cast by a tall tree instead.

FULL NAME: MORNINGSPOT

Morningpaw had always been a nervous apprentice who, nevertheless, always tried her best. So, when it came time for her warrior ceremony, Redstar kept in mind Barelywave's assessment and compliments on her abilities. Barleywave noted that Morningpaw was sometimes overly apologetic for her learning mistakes, but she was determined while practicing. Despite her fears of Woodcrawlers, she cared about her clanmates more - as proven by her willingness to use her body as a dry surface to keep Barleywave warm during a blizzard. When she could actually put aside her insecurities and anxiety, she was a good cat who did the right thing. Redstar herself noted that when Morningpaw actually gathered enough courage to speak, her words were always thoughtful in some way. So, Redstar named the new warrior "Morningspot", honoring her vigilance and ability to put others at ease.

By putting the meanings of these two words together, a Clan cat would read into this nervous warrior's name as, "a warm patch of morning light," or alternatively, "a place where one finds good company." Morningspot assumes that she was named for the former - a reflection of her reddish-brown fur that drapes over her white underbelly like a patch of sunshine. But, unbeknownst to her, and perhaps to many others until they actually get to know her - she definitely reflects the latter meaning. Morningspot is the epitome of someone with imposter syndrome - always doubting herself and believing that she is not worth the trouble she gives her clanmates. But when it matters most, Morningspot springs into action - whether that's chasing a clanmate's sister across a river to get her attention, or saving an apprentice's life from a Fake Cat.

[forestclan-clangen]

Here's some more character references! I'm using their ages for Moon 16, which as of writing this, will be the next one. Plus, a minor spoiler for Perchpaw's character development, and Branchpaw's future - but that won't happen for a while yet! Branchpaw will continue identifying as she/her until she goes through her character arc <3

[forestclan-clangen]

Since Riftpaw has the apprentice suffix, does he have a mentor? I couldn’t find any mention of one

Kiiiind of? In-game in was Morningspot, problem was that he graduated the same moon he recovered from his wounds (yea yea minor spoiler lol but it’s not that big an issue), so I have it in my head that he’s sort of being collectively trained by the Clan bc he’s young and eager to learn. Hopechase would probably be the one mentoring him the most alongside lessons with Perchpaw!

[forestclan-clangen]

Is it weird I see us, the Audience, more like a favorite cattle to the Iris? We're interesting, but ultimately an animal. Below Her and despite how much She enjoys watching us do our silly routines we will end up on Her plate. Sort of a sweet treat in a way

It’s not strange, but I personally don’t write the Iris that way. It’s a living planet, a sentient organism that feeds on other planets. It hates conscious life and actively tries to torment anything with it. That’s why in ForestClan’s universe, StarClan protects Clan cats from the Iris’ gaze. The Iris discovering that you are sentient and conscious is how you become a target.

Humans are more like germs on the surface of an apple. Rinse it off and dry it well before taking a bite. Germs that try to talk to you first are interesting, but germs are still just microbes and bacteria that can’t actually do anything meaningful to the universe.

Basically, if my final part of Moon 15 made people cry because they love the idea of being part of a loving universe, the Iris is the antithesis of that. The universe is hateful and does not care. You cannot do anything to stop something stronger than you from winning. It sees you with the same glee a child burns an ant under a magnifying glass, or with the same nonchalance as you eat cereal in the morning. A true eldritch horror entity!

[forestclan-clangen]

Hello all!

I've got some fanart I've made over the past few weeks:

Shiverstep of ForestClan by @forestclan-clangen

I love her so, she deserves the softest moss in her nest.

Freebird Liam by @hjaopanses

I've said this before but, I love this guys design. He deserves a wee nap after witnessing The Horrors™

The Red Soul by @strayknight

This one's actually from today, I absolutely love this design and was compelled to draw them immediately.

[forestclan-clangen]

⋆｡°✩ Hello everyone! ✩°｡⋆

This is a space for sharing some of the things we get up to on the Clangen Creator Community (CCC) Discord server! This ranges from things like events and announcements to art done collectively by our members to creator spotlights~

The server is open to anyone who would call themselves a fan of clangen creations, be it comics, writing, or any of the other wonderfully creative ways people share their stories. We have a great community here and we would love to see some new faces!

Join us! ᓚᘏᗢ

(Additionally, there are five mods running both this tumblr and the server. You can see which mod made a post by looking in the tags :3)

[forestclan-clangen]

I know you've talked about the Iris and how you characterize it, but the thing I've been wondering for a while is whether it even respond to Us specifically. (As in, the Audience.) We seem to be a cosmic being(s?) out of its reach, but we also can't do anything to it either. So would it even reply to the audience pestering it with questions and/or threatening it?

(I might be wrong, but I imagine it'd either ignore us or treat us like an irritating gnat unless we really managed to annoy it somehow, or it'd be amused at us trying to speak to it since we can't actually do anything to it. Would it be amused at our persistence, or just get annoyed and cut the connection?)

I hope I'm not retreading any answered questions: the potential Iris-Audience dynamic (or lack thereof) is just an extremely specific curiosity of mine.

Why, you already know how the Iris feels about you, silly.

Humanity is the Iris' primary target. It does not care what you ask. You don't look at a swarm of fruit flies in your kitchen and consider their value. You recognize them as a pest ruining your food, and build a trap of wine, soap and saran wrap over a cup, and watch as the flies are lured and fall in, and drown in the alcohol. It's only somewhat interesting if the flies have the intelligence to lure their own kind to the trap. An interesting experiment - see how many of its bretheren a mere fly will sacrifice in order to keep itself alive. But in the end, they're somewhere you plan to eat, and they need to die now. Even the supposed "smart ones".

The Audience is you. It has always been just you. You are so uniquely special. And yet so completely normal. Just like everyone else.

You already know how the Iris would respond to being prompted. Someone else has already done it for you.

Do not rush to deliver yourself to it. It will come and see its handiwork itself.

[forestclan-clangen]

IS THIS WHAT THE FUCKING MINECRAFT END POEM IS OH MY GOD???

(ALSO WHAT DO YOU MEAN PPL MENTION ME IN OTHER DISCORD SERVERS. WAT. I EXIST OUTSIDE OF ME?? //joke but that is still like. What the fuck I exist. art. I'm writing fanfic)

Yes give me 2 hours I'm gonna stare at the ceiling. goddamit I still can't believe I've inspired other people to do art simply because I. made art. the fuck. this is incredible and I am gonna roll around now

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?

Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.

YouTube version

———

Been a while since a fictional story actually made me cry. But that moon update, man… oh man, I was not okay (hence the spontaneous poetry in the reblogs). This story has taught me a lot about the relationship between character and reader, and how deeply important it is, even if it weren’t as interactive as ForestClan. I can’t believe how different I would be if someone hadn’t offhandedly mentioned your blog in a discord server. I don’t want to — I’m so happy to experience this, to be part of these characters’ lives.

I’ve been up late these last few nights drawing this, so it’s hard for me to articulate my thoughts — for a better view of my feelings, check my reblog of Moon 15’s Final Answered Call. Let it be known: ForestClan is deeply important to me.

@forestclan-clangen there’s so much I wish I could say. But for now… thank you.

[forestclan-clangen]

{Hi again I'm the second anon who mentioned being sensitive to body horror}

I can't speak to everyone obviously? Because everyone is affected differently by body horror but for me I think it has to do with like. Besides the skull, Rootgrove isn't especially *recognizable* as a cat, visually, and my specific troubles with body horror is very rooted /ha/ in the uncanny valley? The closer but more wrong something is compared to its original form the more it affects me. Like the first time I realized how bad it affected me was when I read The Enigma Of Amigara Fault as a teenager, if that helps? So because Rootgrove looks so far removed from 'cat' its much easier to look at him and go 'thats my sad bastard blorbo' instead of 'that is bad and wrong and upsetting and i need to close the tab'

OH GOD OKAY I think I understood completely when you said "Amigara Fault" because yeah, Junji Ito is a horrifying mastermind at making all his work just VISCERALLY and horribly uncomfortable. Every single time I see one of his works I just think "Thanks, I hate it". Like, no, Ito, no I never thought about how messed up it would be to become a snail. Or be chased by balloons in the shape of people's heads who also try to turn you into a balloon. Sir. Please stop. For once in your life, stop starting all of your manga concepts with "Hey wouldn't it suck if".

Funnily enough, one of his works of art that I physically cannot read anything about because of how viscerally terrifying the art is for me, is Hellstar Remina.

About an evil eldritch planet. That has an eye. And is slowly approaching earth. And its surface turns humans into red, messed up amalgamations. And it devours planets.

...heeeeeyyy waaaiit a minute....

(I am still convinced to this day that Remy Abode was at least SOMEWHAT inspired by Hellstar Remina for the concept of the Iris)