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From your recent fight! fight! fight! update

YAAA GO SALTCLAN!!! BEAT THEM UP!!!

But of my lord reading and seeing them beat the shit out of each other is so amazing. I already loved the way you told it story wise, but seeing the way you draw battle kitties with such poses and expressions that just show how ferocious these cats can be. And seeing the extent of their injuries and how hardcore the beating was on both sides. Just absolutely adore it (from an outsider view of course, don't like seeing my fav saltclan cats getting hurt).

Here’s some of the references I used for the fight sketches

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What did Jaggedstar even see in Thornstrike originally? Before they had a cat divorce

Oh she was young and in love, they’d been apprentices around the same time. Her to Dogstar the previous leader and him to Sharphowl (blackhowl’s parent). Initially he’d been the better warrior between them, also a code keeper. He was faster, stronger, a better fighter, and speaker. Jagged was good, but he was exceptional. Then after graduation, they became mates, this lasted several seasons and they had a litter too. Slowly but surely, she’d begun to pull ahead of him, the kits didn’t slow her down even the slightest. Suddenly she was winning all their competitions and being showered with praise after hunts and trials. He became moody and aggressive, blaming her and anyone else around him for his skill’s stagnation. She’d expected him to be proud of her, she defended him a lot to her clan mates as his sour behavior was stepping on toes. Then the previous deputy retired, too old to continue and dogstar chose her for the role. Their relationship went on for a couple moons beyond that. But she broke it off when she realized half their time was spent her defending herself from his criticisms. And the other half her comforting him on his failures. Then she became leader and on her way to the moon spring she got a thorny vine stuck to her side. She took this as a sign that Thornstrike should be her deputy. He was truly an excellent warrior and fighter, without the attitude and ego he’d be a perfect fit. This brought little comfort to him and only strained their relationship. It also worsened his reputation in the clan as deputies and leaders are expected to be more respectful and levelheaded than other warriors. Seasons later she wonders if she interpreted the sign incorrectly.

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Crime! Crime! Crime!

Some fight sketches that didn’t make the cut bc I wasn’t coloring all this shit

Warning: animal injury and violence

We have Wolf v Clearstorm

And Wolf v Sparkclaw

Ripple v Tawnypaw

And Ripple v Grackletail

Here’s Otter v Heavybadger

And Otter v Shadepaw

Snow v Gorsejump

Snow v Scorchvein

Shadow v Thornstrike

And finally Mallow v Blackhowl!

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So funny reading posts from you bc I have had an oc named Thornstrike (not clangen) for years and he is very much NOT the same as your Thornstrike omg

Anon I neeeeeeeed to see this Thornstrike of yours the other Thornstrike the good timeline Thornstrike

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no guys, Thornstrike shouldnt get exiled, because he will surely find a clan in need, who mysteriously had all cats fall sick and their leader and deputy dying. and he will get 9 lives for his efforts, because his only crime was that he loved too much and- (dies, carried away by a hawk)

ASDFGHJK nooooo not the Ashfur defense 💀💀💀💀

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Stoatfang! I remember her, she looked tense in the update when Wolfstar wanted to see Jaggedstar. Did she know about the attack form Heavybadger? What are her opinions on Thornstrike now?

We’re gonna learn more about the aftermath of the patrol in the next update, but Stoatfang is not a fan of Thornstrike and hasn’t been for a long time. She finds his loyalty to himself before his clan reprehensible and thinks he shouldn’t be deputy.

She’s always been a serious and focused warrior, it’s why Jagged likes her, but shes very honorable and loyal to Duskclan not just her friend. She was also Sparkclaw’s mentor and has a lot of respect as a code keeper. She’s a very good fighter despite her size, but Heavy is a care taker so she was pretty worried when they returned from a regular patrol all beat up. Care takers do fight and hunt like other warriors, but they’re not usually first pick for battle patrols.

Fun fact she’s aro/ace! She did still have a litter bc it’s kinda expected for skilled warriors to increase the clan’s numbers but she doesn’t want a mate or romance. She’s got mousefur vibes for sure.

She will feature prominently in the next update and we’ll see some more new faces too!

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Im so curious about Willowtail. Did she ever find out about Saltclan and that her daughter was alive and okay? I can see Darkfold telling her about Lynxdawn. I hope she finds some peace with the fact her kit is alive and well. I just find her story so sad, she derserves better.

Yes Willowtail knew about Saltclan and Lynxdawn’s survival after Wolfstar announced the creation of the clan at a gathering. Unfortunately they never had a chance to reconnect, Willowtail saw her daughter at gatherings but kept her distance. And while Lynx knew who her mom was, she had mixed feelings about Willow and didn’t feel compelled to reach out. After Lynx was kidnapped she fell into a depression and retired to the elder’s den. She’s had a long hard life filled with disappointment, but she did find comfort in knowing her kit was destined for greatness even if it was without her.

In starclan she spends most of her time with the kits that didn’t survive and enjoys greeting new arrivals. Some ghosts wander the territories and visit their loved ones unseen (aside from cats like Junipersong who have ghost vision) but Willowtail prefers to stay with her deceased kits.

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Heavybadger looks so cool! I like xem!

Xey’re actually Stoatfang’s kit! She’s only popped up briefly in other posts but she’s Jaggedstar’s closest friend

The resemblance is strong and xey inherited her small frame and coat pattern but not her tenacity

For the sake of simplicity and to avoid mistakes in writing I’ll only use the triad of she/he/they but I’m more than happy if someone wants to use specific pronouns and I loooove seeing Heavybadger as xe/xey

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Us v Thornstrike rn

ASDFGHJK

Gotta include the whole scene now

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I was rereading some of the early moons to double check something for the next update and I realized I never included this pic!!!!! I don’t know why it got left out but here’s Stormchaser and Wolfstar during her leader ceremony in the moon spring!!!!!!

Moon 4 part 2

Greenleaf

Wolfpaw felt paralyzed, her limbs heavy as she sank further into the moon spring. Claws out she tried to paddle her limbs, but found no leverage, her strength gone.

The water grew colder as she ran out of air, body forcing her to inhale. Eyes wide as she coughed on instinct, taking in more water as she did. Her throat was on fire like she’d swallowed a hundred thorns.

Numbness flooded her limbs with prickling pins, she felt limp as she finally stopped thrashing. Her ribs ached from how fast her heart was beating and she could feel her blood pumping, her entire body throbbing like a pulse. The pressure behind her eyes felt immense as her heart rate slowed. Every thought and instinct dissolved from her mind, an odd sense of calm for a brief moment.

As her vision faded, the water around her began to glow. In her right mind she would’ve thought it was beautiful. But her empty body felt nothing, her sight down to pin points when it suddenly snapped back into focus.

Her body was still and numb, but her mind was clear, panic flooding her just as the water did. She stared at the face staring back at her.

The cat before her was enormous, she could only see their face and shoulder. Striking blue eyes and a long fluffy mane, her jaw tried to for words but failed.

The kind face leaned forward to touch a nose to her forehead and pain rushed through her body once more. It was like she’d woken up from a terrible dream. She could feel the cat’s paw touching her face and as the shock of feeling again subside to a dull ache, the cat spoke.

“You’re so little, I never got to hold you like your siblings.” Her voice was deep and soft. “I died before you were born, my name is Stormrunner .”

The name felt familiar, like one she’d heard whispered around her as a kit. She tried again to talk but still no words could form.

“I’m your grandmother, Jaggedstar is my kit.” She purred, amused by Wolfpaw’s attempts. “I’m here to give you your nine lives.”

A jolt shot through her again, but she could only blink at the Starclan cat.

“Normally it would be different cats giving you each individual life, but I was greedy and couldn’t help myself.” She nuzzled against her. “You’ve given up your original life as all founders must, from the very beginning each founder of the clans drowned in the moon spring in exchange for nine lives.”

She pressed her nose against Wolfpaw’s forehead again, a jolt of pain following.

“For this life I give you the continued courage to follow your path.”

Another wave of pain, this time burning.

“For this life I give you the strength to not only survive but thrive in your clan.”

She had to grit her teeth as mind numbing cold followed.

“For this life I give you endurance, to remain steadfast in your goals.”

The gentle warmth that flowed through her was surprising but a relief.

“For this life I give you compassion, to not only lead but to care for your clan mates.”

A heavy feeling that was neither good nor bad settled on her shoulders.

“For this life I give you pride, to stand tall as a leader before your adversaries.”

Now another jolt on pain.

“For this life I give you fearlessness, so that you aren’t bound by your fears when making decisions.”

Another jolt.

“For this life I give you reflection, so you may learn from your mistakes and the mistakes of those before you.”

Wolfpaw felt slow, syrupy wave of relief reach all the way to her tail tip.

“For this life I give you hope, so you may know your future though difficult will be prosperous.”

The relief dripped off of her and she felt only her grandmother’s paw and the water around her.

“For this final life I give you instinct, so even if you feel lost, your paws will know where to take you.”

“You old life is no more, I hail you as Wolfstar, leader of Saltclan.” Stormrunner embraced her, large body curling around her own. Her body felt lighter and her limbs no longer heavy as she started treading again. Her grandmother’s body faded as she swam to the surface, her body flooding with adrenaline again.

Lynxkit was waiting just inside the entrance when she heard the splash and yowl. She clambered over the slippery rocks, nearly blind in the dark. Her paw pads were scraped when she finally reached the spring.

The water rippled, disturbed, but there was no sign of Wolfpaw. A few bubbles reached the surface, but no one followed. Lynxkit felt like she’d been struck in the chest, she couldn’t move. Her voice caught in her throat.

Tears came to her eyes as she let out a wail, hoping Jade would hear her, but refusing to move, she couldn’t leave Wolfpaw alone.

Suddenly a paw broke through the water and Lynxkit strained to reach it to help her out. Jade’s paw steps were loud as she navigated the tunnel, hearing the kit’s sobs.

She yanked herself onto the bank of the spring, shuddering as her claws grip the stone. Jade grab her by the scruff and pulled her the rest of the way. Her fur was water logged and she shivered despite the lingering greenleaf heat.

“Wolfpaw! Are you ok?” Jade asked, pulling the smaller cat further away from the water. She gagged and threw up foamy biles, eyes watering as she coughed again.

Lynxkit pressed against her side as her breath slowly returned to normal.

“Wolfpaw, what happened?” Jade asked again.

“Wo-Wolfstar.” She sputtered, eyes closed and heart rate finally slower.

“What?” Lynxkit finally spoke, her voice hoarse.

“My name is Wolfstar, I fell in and starclan gave me nine lives.” She pushed herself up, her legs stayed under her despite her shaking. A cough rattled her frame and Jade let her press against her side for support.

“It’s late.” Jade said as they exited the High cave, she checked the air for visitors. “We need to stop for the night.”

“Where can we go? We can’t risk staying here and Wolfp-star can’t walk far.” Lynxkit asked, right on cue Wolfstar let out another round of wet coughs. Jade rushed the group up the embankment to the edge of the thunderpath, hoping no one could hear her companion’s hacking.

“I know someone not far from here. We can rest with her.” She said as the crossed the path again, the black ground much cooler now after the sun set.

“Another loner?” Wolfstar asked.

“No, she’s a kittypet. But we can sleep under the bushes outside her twoleg’s nest.”

“She’ll be ok with us being clan cats?” Wolfstar wheezed.

“Of course shes friendly to everyone. She’s my sister, Sage. We’ll be safe there.” Jade felt more of Wolfstar’s weight on her and was tempted to just carry the cat, but they were already so close she didn’t want to break the momentum.

“Here we are.” She announced as the approached the edge of a yard, far away from the nest’s entrance. The light on the wall of the nest was on and cast a warm yellow semi circle around the entrance. The trio sat in the blue dark, out of the light and close to a bush. Wolfstar had to lay down to rest.

Jade let out a short yowl, making her companions flinch at the noise. But neither had the energy to dart away. Suddenly they heard an answering call, like a kit responding to its mom. Then a tall, lean she cat came around the corner of the nest, her tail up and waggling as she approached.

“Jade!” Sage called out, her smile falter when she saw Wolfstar’s prone body and Lynxkit hiding behind her. “Oh golly, what happened here?”

“She fell into the river, we were supposed to get back to gramma’s tonight but I don’t think she can make it that far.” Jade explained quickly, not bothering with introductions or details. Sage seemed used to her sister’s way of speaking and came closer to the pair.

“Well it’s a good thing I live here then. You all can stay here for however long you need too.” She said kindly, reaching out to touch noses with Lynxkit. “Would y’all prefer to come in or stay out.”

“Stay out definitely.” Wolfstar coughed out. Sage’s face became even more crestfallen at the sight.

“Oh darling, that sounds bad. You’re from a clan right? That means you have a healer, yeah?”

“Not currently.” Jade answered for them.

“Try to rest I suppose. If you feel worse in the morning, I’ll take you to my housefolk. They’ve taken me to get help when I was sick, it’s better than suffering.” She suggested.

“No, I can take care of her. I’m learning how to heal cats!” Lynxkit finally spoke up, puffed up with fear. Wolfstar chuckled weakly, but Sage smiled brightly at them.

“Well then I think you’re in good hands Ms….um what we’re y’all’s names?” She laughed awkwardly.

“Wolfstar. Lynxkit.” Jade indicated each with her tail.

After settling down under the blueberry bush with a stolen blanket from Sage, Wolfstar felt her coughs die down in frequency. Hopefully tomorrow she’d feel better, but for now she enjoyed Lynxkit’s warmth as they cuddled. After a while she heard Jade approaching, she’d talked with her sister for quite some time. Surprisingly she curled around Wolfstar, easily dwarfing the smaller cat, it felt like when she’d napped with Greyclaw or Ashenstep.

Her chest still hurt, head pounding and throat sore, but listening to her companion’s heartbeats and purrs she felt at peace.

Next

Prev

Moon 0

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While y’all wait for the next update here’s a run down on all the new cats introduced in the last moon update!

I didn’t include ages bc it’s not really important

Also I know the ⚧︎ is technically the transgender symbol, but the nonbinary symbol isn’t as recognizable and I feel like ⚧︎ matches the gib gender more

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Exile him!!!!!

Wait actually funnier option, send his ass to the elders den.

Ahhhhhhhh! He’d hate that!

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Thornstrike it is ON SIGHT I don’t care how tough you are I am multiple times your height and weight you are going DOWN

He is losing his job he attacked two teenagers and a STARCLAN BLESSED leader(more than a leader usually is anyway) who STARTED A CLAN FROM SCRATCH

Also losing two lives while being a leader for a year, maybe less? That’s…. bad

-🐲

If you wanna square up with Thornstrike you gotta take a number, he’s public enemy number one!

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Moon 18 pt 2

Greenleaf

Trigger warnings for blood, violence, and animal death

The sun was just beginning to set when Wolfstar led Ripplepaw and Otterpaw toward the abandoned twoleg nest. Despite recent tensions, DuskClan had been marking this border less and less—perhaps a quiet surrender. Letting the apprentices mark it felt like a deserved reward.

“Ripplepaw,” she signed with a grin, “once you’ve finished marking, I want you and Otterpaw to spar.”

The young tom blinked at her, his eyes wide. “Is this our assessment?” he signed quickly.

She purred with amusement. Lately, any challenge made Ripplepaw think he was earning his warrior name.

“Yes, it’s part of it,” she said, signing alongside her voice.

Ripplepaw veered off, eager to finish marking. Otterpaw stretched, tail twitching with excitement. Wolfstar stepped along the uneven ground, the dirt disrupted by rocky patches—when her fur pricked.

She was being watched.

Hackles rising, she scanned the shadows. The apprentices hadn’t noticed.

Lostclaw?

She stepped closer to Ripplepaw to sign a warning—too late.

A dark shape slammed into her side, dragging her to the dirt. She hit hard.

Ripplepaw yowled and launched at the attacker, forcing them back just enough for Wolfstar to recognize him.

“Thornstrike,” she spat. DuskClan. This was an ambush.

The deputy flung Ripplepaw off with a snarl. More shadows emerged behind him—warriors, several of them.

“Otterpaw! Run to camp!” she roared just before Thornstrike’s paw cracked into her muzzle. Blood filled her mouth. She spat it in his face.

With a snarl, she drove her shoulder up, slamming into him. Her paw struck his throat—he gagged, stunned.

Another body crashed into her. Sparkclaw.

The red molly’s claws tore toward her face. Wolfstar twisted, managing to rake her back claws across Sparkclaw’s belly. The warrior shrieked and leapt back, blood staining her underbelly.

Thornstrike lunged again. Wolfstar rose up and snapped her jaws around his ear. He screamed, ripping away, leaving tufts of fur and blood between her teeth.

She gagged for a moment, the flesh caught in her throat.

She bolted, moving away from the nest into clearer ground.

Ripplepaw was still fighting, dancing around Clearstorm and a brown apprentice. More cats lingered at the edge—four or five at least.

Pain tore down her side—claws. Thornstrike again.

She didn’t cry out. Instead, she rolled with the strike and kicked into his chest.

If those cats were standing back, Otterpaw had escaped. Help was coming.

Sparkclaw reappeared, creeping from her blind side. Wolfstar twisted and sank her teeth into the molly’s forepaw.

Thornstrike hit her again—this time pinning her, his paw crushing her throat. She heard Ripplepaw yowl in pain, muffled and close.

She clawed upward, but Thornstrike was strong. The world blurred.

He leaned in to speak—

A massive shape collided with him.

Air flooded her lungs. Gasping, she scrambled up.

Shadowdive was tearing into Thornstrike.

SaltClan had arrived.

Snowspeckle threw herself into two cats near Ripplepaw. Otterpaw wrestled a tawny apprentice beside them.

Wolfstar spun, ready to attack Sparkclaw again—only to see Mallowstripe locked in a fight with Gorsejump.

She darted in, biting the enemy warrior’s tail. Gorsejump spun toward her, exposing their side. Mallowstripe slashed his claws across the cat’s face.

Wolfstar shoved him aside and whirled on Mallowstripe. “What are you doing here?”

“Nightleap’s still down. Heatstroke,” he panted. “We needed fighters.”

She cursed inwardly but said nothing. He was right.

A rasping voice growled behind her.

“Aww, little Burnpaw’s first battle.” Sparkclaw sneered as she charged.

Wolfstar lunged forward, catching the same injured paw in her jaws. Sparkclaw roared, slamming a heavy paw into her face.

Wolfstar staggered but threw her full weight into Sparkclaw, knocking her down. “Back up Ripplepaw!” she snapped at Mallowstripe. “Stay near Shadowdive!”

He bolted.

Otterpaw darted in beside Shadowdive, fending off attackers as the large tom focused on Thornstrike.

Wolfstar turned and smashed her back legs into Sparkclaw’s ribs before racing toward the heart of the battle. Snowspeckle was outnumbered but holding steady. Ripplepaw fought Blackhowl when Mallowstripe rejoined him—leaping onto the tom’s back and biting down hard.

Clearstorm lunged toward Mallowstripe, but Wolfstar intercepted him, slamming him to the ground.

“Get off me, you waste of a star!” he howled.

“You couldn’t beat me at five moons,” she growled. “What makes you think you can now?”

He jabbed a paw into her eye. She flinched, and he wriggled free.

Then Sparkclaw crashed into her again, dragging her down.

“You don’t deserve those lives!” she hissed into Wolfstar’s ear, claws digging into the back of her neck.

Wolfstar tried to roll, but Sparkclaw had her pinned. She couldn’t breathe. Her limbs trembled.

“You had everything!” Sparkclaw snarled. “And you left it behind like a coward.”

Wolfstar’s lungs burned. She clawed weakly, vision dimming.

“I may not be able to take all your lives—but one is enough.”

Darkness crept in.

Suddenly the pressure lifted.

Wolfstar choked in air, vision swimming. She rolled away, shocked to see Clearstorm pinning Sparkclaw.

“What are you doing!” she screamed at him. “Have you turned traitor too?”

She shoved him off, turning to Wolfstar—but he tackled her again.

“We have to go!” he hissed. “Jaggedstar didn’t send us! Thornstrike lied!”

Sparkclaw froze. Wolfstar blinked, dazed.

Snowspeckle turned, startled. Shadowdive still held Thornstrike, the deputy now bloodied and dazed.

Wolfstar found her balance. “They’re trespassing,” she growled.

The fighting stalled. She slashed her claws across Scorchvein’s side. She bolted. The SaltClan warriors followed suit, chasing the fleeing DuskClan cats.

“Get out! Your leader will hear about this!” Snowspeckle bellowed.

Most DuskClan warriors ran—except Sparkclaw.

She hurled herself at Wolfstar again, claws out.

Ripplepaw screamed and launched at her, missing by a hair.

Clearstorm caught her halfway, dragging her back.

“Sparkclaw! We have to go!” he yowled. “I won’t let you break the warrior code!”

Wolfstar swayed, barely upright. She summoned what was left of her strength.

She stood, fur bristling, claws deep in the dirt. “Go! Run back to your clan before I make your kin dig for your bones.”

Sparkclaw stared at her, trembling—not with fear of Wolfstar, but something else. Her eyes widened, fixed just behind the SaltClan leader’s shoulder.

For a moment, she looked hollowed out, like all the breath had been pulled from her lungs.

Then she ran, stumbling at first, before tearing back across the border without another word.

Wolfstar’s legs gave out. She collapsed.

Shadowdive let Thornstrike go and sprinted to her side. His face was the last thing she saw before the world went black.

The waves of starlight lapped gently at her paws. The warm stone beneath them should have brought comfort.

But there was no Stormchaser.

The realization landed like a claw to the chest.

The roar of the waves, usually soothing, only emphasized her solitude. The comforting presence of her grandmother was gone.

Something was wrong.

The respite ended as quickly as it came. The world of stars blurred and drained of color.

It was dark when she came to.

Pain throbbed dully, but exhaustion lay heavier than any wound. Her head felt like someone was dancing on it. Distant voices whispered beyond the den’s curtain, too sharp to bear.

The scent of herbs and blood clung to everything. She was in her den.

A body lay beside her, still as stone—until it spoke.

“Rest,” murmured Shadowdive, his voice gravelly with fatigue. “You can speak to the clan in the morning.”

She shook her head slowly. Her limbs felt carved from wet sand. As she shifted upright, he groaned and began rising too.

“What happened?” she rasped. Her mouth was dry—too dry. A bowl of tea near the den entrance caught her eye.

“I had Thornstrike pinned. Raked up his eyes. I don’t think he’ll recover,” Shadowdive said, voice low and edged. “But I let him go… Saw you go down and—I didn’t care about him after that.”

She nodded, dragging the tea closer and drinking deep. The cool liquid eased her throat.

“Clearstorm said he lied,” she murmured. “That Jaggedstar never sent them.”

Shadowdive growled, this time full and fierce. His hackles rose.

“Otterpaw caught it,” he said. “Was taunting Thornstrike, trying to distract him. Asked something like, ‘What kind of battle is it without your leader?’ And Thornstrike said, ‘What Jaggedstar doesn’t know won’t hurt her.’”

He paused to stretch, claws sliding from tired paws.

“Clearstorm was about to strike me, but that threw him off. They started arguing. I took the chance to hit Thornstrike again. Clearstorm said Thornstrike told them Jaggedstar picked the patrol herself. Thornstrike called him a kit and said he was doing what Jaggedstar wouldn’t.”

Wolfstar hummed softly.

“Explains why he pulled Sparkclaw away,” she mused. “Clearstorm’s a lot of things, but disloyal isn’t one of them.”

Shadowdive huffed dismissively, settling his weight again.

“What’re our casualties?” she asked, blinking heavily.

“No lives lost—besides yours,” he grunted. “Snowspeckle’s bruised. Ripplepaw’s got a nasty cut across his face, but it should heal. Otterpaw’s got a few tears in his pelt. Mallow’s scraped up.”

“And you?” she asked with a faint chuckle that barely rattled free.

“Bites and cuts. Nothing serious.”

He pressed his muzzle gently to hers.

“Lynxdawn said you were clawed up bad. That, the fight, and the choking… that’s why you lost the life.”

She leaned into him, breathing in the grounding scent of smoke and pine.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner,” he whispered, voice unsteady.

“Hush, darling,” she purred, brushing her nose along his cheek. “You saved me. You saved Ripplepaw. Honestly, the whole clan. I’ve seen Thornstrike fight. Without you, he and Sparkclaw might’ve killed someone.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a tail against his lips.

“Someone who doesn’t have extra lives,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

They stayed like that for a while, pressed close, gathering strength from each other. But soon, the familiar itch returned—she had to move.

“Where’s Mallow?” she asked, stretching her stiff neck.

“He’s got Coralpaw and Dropletpaw serving dinner while he helps Lynxdawn with the wounded.” Shadowdive stood and held the curtain aside for her.

“How long was I out?” she asked as they stepped into the fading light. The camp quieted at her arrival.

“Not long,” he murmured. “Long enough to light a fire and make soup.”

She nodded, though her body still felt slow, like her blood moved through syrup. She didn’t think she could leap atop her usual perch, so she made her way to the oven, its flames low and glowing. The clan began to gather.

Mallowstripe left Snowspeckle’s side to greet her, touching noses gently, his expression tight with worry.

Coralpaw lingered behind him, her paws shifting anxiously on the sandy floor. Kelppaw froze with a bundle of moss in her mouth, unsure whether to drop it or keep working. Even Sandpaw, usually restless, stood still and alert, tail twitching low to the ground.

Clearing her throat, Wolfstar waited for all eyes to turn to her. Lynxdawn didn’t look up—her jaws were full of soaked cobweb, and her paws were slick with marigold. She worked faster, as if pushing her worry aside through motion.

“SaltClan,” she began, voice steady despite the ache, “I know it may not feel like it now, but we succeeded today. We defended our territory with strength and bravery.”

There were nods, but also silence—too many bruises, too much pain.

“During the fight, it came to light that Thornstrike lied. Jaggedstar never sanctioned the ambush. He told his patrol she had, but Clearstorm confronted him. When the truth was out, most of the patrol backed down. They refused to keep fighting under false orders.”

A few gasps sounded in the crowd.

“What do we do next?” Snowspeckle asked. “We need to tell Jaggedstar, right?”

“Of course,” Wolfstar said. “I’ll go to DuskClan in the morning to speak with her. For now, we eat. We rest.”

The clan murmured and dispersed. The youngest apprentices buzzed between dens, carrying herbs and bowls, trailing excitement and exhaustion.

Dropletpaw approached with a bowl of soup, eyes wide and quiet. She settled beside her mentor, watching her sidelong with something like fear.

Wolfstar noticed. She always noticed.

The soup was warm in her belly, grounding despite the heat still lingering in the air. The small molly sat beside her mentor, glancing over her fearfully. Her wide eyes flicked to the faded marks on Wolfstar’s throat. She didn’t ask anything—but Wolfstar saw the question there, tucked behind her silence. Was this her future, too?

Wolfstar lowered her muzzle and gently bumped it to Dropletpaw’s cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly. Dropletpaw didn’t speak, but she nodded, tail curling close around her small paws as she leaned just slightly against her mentor’s side.

And for a few heartbeats, things felt almost normal.

In the morning, Wolfstar took Snowspeckle and Shadowdive with her to the DuskClan border. They waited, silent and wary, until movement flickered through the trees.

Stoatfang emerged first, slinking over the border like smoke, her eyes sharp and restless.

“SaltClan,” she greeted coldly, though her gaze flicked to the shadows behind them, as if expecting something to follow.

More cats followed her from the gloom—Addertail and Rainfoot trailing reluctantly behind, Dockpelt sticking close to his smaller clanmate, his tail twitching with tension.

“Stoatfang, we need to speak with Jaggedstar urgently,” Wolfstar said. Her tone made it clear this wasn’t a request.

Stoatfang didn’t argue. She turned, her jaw clenched. “Follow me.”

Her patrol didn’t speak. They didn’t need to—Stoatfang’s glare silenced anything that might have been said.

The walk to camp was brisk and hushed. Even the forest felt quieter than usual.

The guard at the entrance was Bluetail, a lithe molly who bared her teeth as they passed.

Shadowdive growled low in his throat, positioning himself between her and Wolfstar. Bluetail didn’t follow. She just watched, ears flat, tail lashing.

They were led past the oven and told to wait. Stoatfang vanished toward Jaggedstar’s den, but the tension didn’t leave with her.

The camp was stirring, but the air was heavy—thick with something sour and anxious.

Cats moved with purpose but not ease. Their eyes darted. Their conversations were whispered.

Wolfstar glanced toward the cleric’s den just in time to see Crowflight peeling bloodied cobwebs from Thornstrike’s face. His eyes were bandaged.

“How is he alive?” Snowspeckle murmured.

Wolfstar didn’t answer. She scanned the clearing, noting every face—none from the ambush patrol. Still, every DuskClan cat watched them. Not one dared approach.

“Wolfstar?”

Her head turned. Greyclaw padded over, eyes lit with surprise and something else—relief, maybe.

A small molly flanked him silently—Ferncall, his mate.

“What brings you here?” He asked.

“I need to speak with Jaggedstar,” Wolfstar said.

He nodded and leaned in, brushing his nose to hers. “Ferncall and I are expecting kits,” he whispered.

Her eyes widened. “That’s wonderful news. I’m so happy for you.”

Ferncall nodded politely, her smile thin and tired.

Before Wolfstar could say more, Jaggedstar’s voice rang out across the camp. “Wolfstar. What’s the meaning of this visit?”

Greyclaw and Ferncall stepped aside as the two leaders met.

“Is there a private place to speak?” Wolfstar asked.

Jaggedstar flicked her tail and led the way to her den. Wolfstar gestured for Snowspeckle and Shadowdive to stay behind.

Inside, it smelled faintly of ash and herbs. The shadows clung to the walls as if they belonged there.

“Speak,” Jaggedstar ordered.

Wolfstar didn’t waste time. “Are you aware of what happened last night?”

Jaggedstar’s head tilted slightly, but she didn’t answer.

“A patrol led by Thornstrike ambushed me and two apprentices at the abandoned twoleg nest. SaltClan reinforcements arrived and drove them off.”

Jaggedstar’s jaw tightened. “They returned claiming they fought rogues trespassing in our territory. I didn’t authorize a patrol against SaltClan.”

“I know. During the fight, Thornstrike admitted he lied. Clearstorm heard him. They argued. Most of the patrol retreated.”

Jaggedstar’s voice dropped into a growl. “Most?”

“Sparkclaw remained. Clearstorm had to drag her away. We chased them off.”

The DuskClan leader was silent for a moment, her tail flicking like an agitated flame.

“I believe you. But the clan will want proof.”

“I can name the entire patrol—Thornstrike, Clearstorm, Sparkclaw, Blackhowl, Heavybadger, Scorchvein, Grackletail, and two apprentices I haven’t met.”

“Sablepaw and Shadepaw,” she hissed. “Scorchvein’s kits. They only just became apprentices. They should never have been there.”

“Is this enough?” Wolfstar asked, though they both already knew the answer.

Jaggedstar exhaled slowly. “I’ll begin an investigation. A trial will take place next moon. Maybe the one after.”

She looked tired. Not from lack of sleep—but from something else.

“I won’t let this happen again,” she added, almost to herself.

“If you need anything—help, testimony—SaltClan will support you,” Wolfstar said softly. She bumped her head to her mother’s. A rare and private moment.

No one else would know it happened.

“Who clawed out Thornstrike’s eyes?” Jaggedstar asked.

“Shadowdive did,” Wolfstar replied, a purr curling beneath her words.

Jaggedstar huffed, but said nothing.

When they stepped out of the den, more cats had gathered—most from the ambush patrol. Clearstorm looked sick with guilt. Sparkclaw was nowhere in sight.

Shadowdive and Snowspeckle stood tall, unmoved by the eyes on them.

“Greyclaw,” Jaggedstar called. Her eldest kit approached quickly.

They spoke in hushed tones, but Wolfstar caught fragments.

“I trust you and Stoatfang. Get them back safely. I’ll speak to the clan when you return.”

Wolfstar’s ear flicked. If Jaggedstar was this worried, how deep did the rot go?

“Stoatfang!” Jaggedstar called. “You and Greyclaw—escort SaltClan to the border.”

Stoatfang didn’t hesitate. She moved like a shadow herself.

Greyclaw took the lead. The patrol fell into place.

As they left, Wolfstar glanced over her shoulder one last time.

The camp was still.

Too still.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching them.

Cat Allegiances:

Wolfstar- 24 moons. Leader. Responsible. Compassionate. Natural intuition. Apprentice- Ripplepaw & Dropletpaw.

Lynxdawn- 19 moons. Lead Cleric. Thoughtful. Faithful. Good teacher.

Snowspeckle- 35 moons. Deputy. Artisan. Loving. Thoughtful. Good singer. Apprentice- Kelppaw

Nightleap- 39 moons. Warrior. Insecure. Sneaky. Incredible runner. Apprentice- Coralpaw. Condition: heat stroke.

Thistle-29 moons. Warrior. Troublesome. Thoughtful. Keen eye. Condition: Broken back & recovering from birth.

Mallowstripe- 25 moons. Camp keeper. Nervous. Careful. Strange dreamer.

Shadowdive- 23 moons. Warrior. Blood thirsty. Loyal. Good swimmer. Apprentice- Otterpaw & Sandpaw.

Ripplepaw - 11 moons. Warrior apprentice. Troublesome. Adventurous. Fast runner. Mentor- Wolfstar.

Otterpaw - 11 moons. Warrior apprentice. Insecure. Childish. Good swimmer. Mentor- Shadowdive.

Dropletpaw- 6 moons. Historian apprentice. Skittish. Shy. Interested in clan history.

Kelppaw- 6 moons. Artisan apprentice. Charming. Quiet. Plays in mud.

Coralpaw- 6 moons. Mediator apprentice. Noisy. Bossy. Never sits still.

Sandpaw- 6 moons. Warrior apprentice. Impulsive. Noisy. Moss ball hunter

Briarkit- 0 moons. Inquisitive. Shy. Picky nest builder.

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Moon 0

[salt-clangen]

Moon 18 pt 1

Green leaf

Buckle up guys bc this is only pt 1

Trigger warning: animal death and descriptions of animal remains

Typically, an apprentice ceremony followed birth order, but for Lynxdawn’s daughters, Wolfstar had chosen to begin with the obvious decisions.

“Let all cats old enough to swim gather for a clan meeting!” Wolfstar called from atop the massive driftwood trunk that crowned her den.

The clearing filled quickly. Thistle, still wobbly on her feet. Excitement hummed through the air like heat before a summer storm.

When the crowd settled, Wolfstar lifted her chin. “Today is a very exciting day—we welcome four new apprentices.”

Lynxdawn fussed over her daughters at the edge of the crowd, smoothing Sandkit’s fur with rhythmic strokes. The kits sat beside her in descending birth order, each trembling with anticipation.

“Dropletkit, Kelpkit, Coralkit, Sandkit,” Wolfstar announced. One by one, the four kits stepped forward and turned to face their clanmates as they’d practiced.

“You’ve each reached the age of six moons,” she continued, her voice rich and steady. “From this day on, until you earn your warrior names, you will be known as Dropletpaw, Kelppaw, Coralpaw, and Sandpaw.”

A wave of cheers rolled through the clearing. Wolfstar raised her tail, waiting for quiet to return before speaking again.

“Sandpaw, step forward.”

The smallest of the sisters puffed out her chest and sat proudly, her heart thudding like waves against the cliff.

“You’ve chosen the path of a warrior,” Wolfstar said, her tone warm. “Your mentor will be Shadowdive. I trust he’ll manage both apprentices he’s been blessed with.”

Sandpaw bounded to touch noses with her new mentor, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Coralpaw,” Wolfstar paused—longer than she intended. “You asked to announce your path yourself. Please go ahead.”

Coralpaw stood with poised ease, her leaf-green eyes scanning the clan. She cleared her throat delicately, even as her sisters groaned at her theatrics.

“I’ve decided,” she said clearly, “to become the clan’s first mediator.”

A ripple of gasps fluttered through the clearing. Not upset—just surprised. Even Lynxdawn blinked in shock. She’d expected Coralpaw to lean toward the arts, or perhaps take up campkeeping.

Wolfstar flicked her tail, quieting the reaction, and offered a measured smile. “Coralpaw, you understand that means I don’t have a proper mentor for you?”

“I know,” the young molly replied, unshaken. “But I think a mediator is a vital part of the clan, and I’m ready to take that on.”

Wolfstar’s eyes softened. “That’s a noble thing to say.”

She scanned the gathered cats, her tail twitching in thought. At last, she spoke. “Then your mentor will be Nightleap.”

Silence fell.

Nightleap looked like she’d been doused in cold water. She barely masked her shock before Snowspeckle nudged her with a congratulatory purr. Slowly, the black molly stepped forward, casting a glance at Wolfstar.

“Nightleap, I trust you have a wealth of insight to share. And to support your mentoring, I’ll request a mediator from another clan to assist with occasional lessons.”

Nightleap dipped her head. Coralpaw, untouched by the tension, reached out eagerly to touch noses with her new mentor.

“Kelppaw!” Wolfstar turned to the next, eager to move on. “You’ve chosen to become an artisan, and our beloved deputy was an easy match. I know she’ll pass on all her wisdom.”

Snowspeckle stepped forward with a proud gleam in her eye. Kelppaw purred so hard she shook as she touched noses with her mentor.

When they settled to the side, Wolfstar took a breath and looked to the final kit.

“Dropletpaw,” she said gently, “you haven’t yet shared your chosen path.”

Dropletpaw stiffened as if struck. Her eyes flicked briefly to Wolfstar, then to the watching crowd. Finally, they dropped to her paws.

“Dropletpaw, do you need more time?” the leader asked, her voice softer than sea foam.

The young tabby shook her head. She’d already spent days in Wolfstar’s den, seeking guidance from every cat who offered it. The last thing she wanted was more advice.

“No,” she murmured. Then louder, steadier: “I’ve decided to become a historian.”

Again a few whispers broke out, but Wolfstar only had eyes for the apprentice. Dropletpaw flinched with a squeak as her leader dropped lithely to the sand beside her.

Her eyes bright, Wolfstar spoke just to her. “Really?”

The young molly nodded, swallowing down her nerves.

Standing tall once more, Wolfstar called out. “Then I shall be your mentor.”

She bent her head. Dropletpaw touched noses with her, tail quivering with nerves.

And then the clan erupted.

“Sandpaw! Coralpaw! Kelppaw! Dropletpaw!”

Their names rose like gull cries over the water, echoing across the shore.

Wolfstar’s dreams plagued her. Even with the comfort of her mates and excitement of the clan’s growth, she slept fitfully most nights. Last night was no exception—it felt as real as the morning sun peeking past her curtain.

In the dream, she stood atop the still, gleaming ocean, the water stretching endlessly in every direction. The silvery waves lapped gently at her paws, and moonlight—strange and star-speckled—bathed her in its chill.

Then something broke the surface.

A shadowed figure, rising slow and gaunt from the sea.

A cat. A stranger.

Its mouth moved, silent. She felt the whisper of words against her whiskers like a breath of wind—but nothing reached her ears. It stared at her, its eyes like dark pits. Then it sank without a sound, vanishing below, and the sea closed over it like it had never been there.

She’d jolted awake, trembling and panting, Mallowstripe purring against her side, trying to soothe her. But she couldn’t calm down.

Her paws were wet.

Not with sweat—truly damp. She pressed her nose to them and tasted seawater.

She didn’t sleep again after that.

By dawn, she was up helping with the morning meal and patrol assignments, though she picked at her food, appetite hollow. Eventually, she gathered Ripplepaw and Snowspeckle for a patrol.

Mallowstripe tried to block her path gently, brushing his cheek against her neck in a warm hug. “You should stay and rest,” he murmured into her fur.

“I won’t be able to sleep,” she said, shrugging him off. Her deputy gave her a concerned glance.

“You could ask Lynxdawn for something to help,” he pressed. “And you need to tell her about your dream.”

Wolfstar bristled. “I’ll tell her when I get back,” she muttered, pushing past him.

Snowspeckle didn’t question her on the walk. They followed the shore toward the boating place, today’s patrol simple—just mark the border, check the tide pools, maybe some sparring. Then she’d spend the afternoon showing Dropletpaw the territory. She hoped to nap in the shade while Ripplepaw trained, but she doubted her mind would let her.

The border marking went smoothly. The sand was heating beneath the sun, and the pools shimmered cool and quiet. The water was a balm on her paws, but her attention drifted.

Something was poking from the sand a few fox-lengths away, close to the waves. A stone? A shell? It vanished and reappeared with each splash. By high tide, it would be gone.

She tried to focus on her lesson, needing to sign half of it for Ripplepaw, but she kept glancing back. Eventually, she passed him over to Snowspeckle for practice and wandered toward it.

The water felt good, a cool ribbon on her overheated legs. Ripplepaw watched her from a distance, curious. She dug carefully around the object, paws parting the sand. As she unearthed more of it, a chill threaded down her spine.

A tail touched her shoulder, and she flinched—Snowspeckle and Ripplepaw had joined her. “I-Is that…?” Snowspeckle murmured.

Wolfstar didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. With one last scrape of her paw, the sand gave way—and a cat’s skull stared back at them.

Ripplepaw had to shout three times to explain what happened, too breathless for full sentences. By the time the clan arrived—nearly all of them, though the newest apprentices were made to stay in camp with Thistle—the skeleton had been dragged further from the waves, and Lynxdawn was already ordering cats back.

Wolfstar stood like a stone beside her, explaining her dream in a whisper only Lynxdawn could hear.

“It was like the ocean gave her back,” she hissed. “Like it spat her out.”

Lynxdawn’s gaze sharpened. “Everyone but Wolfstar, back to camp,” she ordered, her voice colder than usual. “Snowspeckle, make sure patrols and duties continue as normal. We can’t fall apart over this. Wolfstar and I will return with answers.”

There was reluctance, even protest, but the cats slowly dispersed. Mallowstripe had to physically push Shadowdive away from the scene, though the tom’s worried eyes lingered on his mate. Wolfstar didn’t notice. Her stare was fixed on the skeleton.

Lynxdawn placed a paw gently on her elbow. “We have to begin.”

Wolfstar nodded, swallowing hard. Together, they moved the bones. The tradition was old—leader and cleric examined every death, no matter how strange.

She crouched beside it and began uncurling the limbs, laying the skeleton gently on its side. There was something reverent in the motion.

“There are cracks on the ribs,” Lynxdawn said, running a claw over the fractures. “Could be the cause of death… or not.”

Wolfstar didn’t answer, her eyes sweeping over the remains. Skin clung to the bones in a few places, tendons dried taut. It looked preserved. Smoked.

Like prey.

Her breath caught. She bolted up the beach and vomited behind a rock, stomach twisting violently. Lynxdawn remained where she was, giving her space but watching with concern.

Eventually, Wolfstar returned, unsteady. “Keep going,” she rasped.

“There are also fractures around the eye sockets. A lot of damage. It’s impossible to tell what happened when the cat was alive.” Lynxdawn spoke softly, as if the body could still hear.

“Could’ve been an accident,” Wolfstar murmured. “But how did she end up here?”

“It might’ve been buried here a long time ago,” Lynxdawn said. “We don’t know how old this is. Maybe some clan or group used to lay their dead here.”

Wolfstar didn’t respond right away. Her tail twitched, ears flicking against the breeze. “I’ll ask the others about Tall Waters,” she finally said. “Maybe they used this place before they broke apart. But we’ll list the death as inconclusive.”

They covered the body with driftwood to shield it from sun and wind. Wolfstar insisted on calling the cat “she,” though Lynxdawn admitted she couldn’t confirm anything from the remains.

“It feels wrong,” Wolfstar whispered. “To leave her like this.”

Lynxdawn waited.

“I want to bury her before nightfall,” she said firmly. “I don’t care if it ruins the investigation. By sunset, I want her in our graveyard. It’s only fair.”

Lynxdawn’s throat tightened. She nodded. “It’s only fair.”

As they turned to gather the driftwood and begin the somber work of transport, a gull shrieked overhead—then another, circling the waves beyond the tide pool.

Wolfstar glanced back at the place where the skeleton had been. The shallow depression in the sand was already beginning to fill with water again, as though the ocean meant to take her back.

And just before she looked away, she thought—no, she felt—the salt air shift. Like a whisper curling through her fur. Like a voice brushing her whiskers.

She didn’t understand the words.

But she was sure it had said her name.

That evening they buried the stranger as the sun touched the edge of the sea.

It was a quiet affair. No prayers, no names—just salt-soaked dirt, gentle paws, and the low hush of waves rolling in and out like breath below the cliff. By the time the last pawful was placed over the grave, dusk had begun to fall. The air felt thick with something unspoken, something unfinished.

Wolfstar didn’t speak on the walk home. Lynxdawn didn’t ask her to.

The camp was subdued when they returned, the scent of driftwood smoke lingering from the evening meal. No one asked what they’d found—not yet. For now, they let silence hold it.

The next morning, life continued. It always did.

Thistle was a model patient. She took her medication when told, rested while Lynxdawn worked, and diligently followed the exercises she’d been shown. Though she rarely spoke and never revealed much about her past, Lynxdawn considered her the best patient she’d ever cared for.

Over time, she found herself growing fond of the quiet molly. Thistle’s patience with the clan’s kits was particularly endearing. Coralpaw, in particular, had taken it upon herself to be Thistle’s personal ‘mentor,’ chattering endlessly about clan customs and the warrior code. Though Lynxdawn often had to step in to clarify, Thistle never turned the kit away. Whether she was truly interested or simply too polite to ignore Coralpaw, Lynxdawn couldn’t say. Still, she could see them becoming friends someday soon.

So it was disheartening to wake up to an empty nest. Thistle’s scent was still strong, fresh enough to suggest she had left just before dawn.

“I guess she decided it was time to leave,” Lynxdawn murmured to Wolfstar.

Wolfstar’s tail brushed gently against her back. “I’ll send Shadowdive and Otterpaw to make sure she’s left the territory safely.”

Before Lynxdawn could respond, movement in the clearing caught her eye. A shadow wavered in the growing morning light.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said.

Hobbling forward, unsteady but determined, Thistle carried a small black kit. Lynxdawn rushed to help, gently taking the tiny molly by the scruff and offering her patient support as they moved toward the cleric’s den. Thistle groaned as she was carefully laid down, exhaustion clear in her every movement.

“Where did this kit come from?” Wolfstar’s voice was a low hiss, wary of attracting attention. The clan was just beginning to stir; soon, curious eyes would be on them.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Thistle huffed, turning her face away as Lynxdawn set the tiny black tabby at her belly. “She’s my kit. That’s it.”

“You gave birth?” Lynxdawn asked, already checking her over, but Thistle curled her tail tightly around herself, ears pinned back.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice was hoarse, her exhaustion making it less of a growl and more of a plea.

Lynxdawn sighed. “You don’t have any milk yet.” She was already reaching for a jar of herbs.

Wolfstar watched the injured molly, eyes calculating. With all the tension in the clan, a loner keeping secrets would only add to the unease. She exhaled slowly and settled in a loaf position near the nest.

“You need to give me something, Thistle,” she reasoned. “We’re giving you care and shelter—”

Thistle’s fur bristled. “If you’re going to hold it over my head, then I’ll just leave!”

Wolfstar let the silence stretch, waiting for the outburst to pass. The kit mewed softly at her mother’s belly.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Wolfstar continued, her voice even. “But you left, then returned with a kit who clearly isn’t a newborn.”

Thistle set her chin on her paws, glowering at the white tabby.

“Please, Thistle,” Lynxdawn said gently, placing a bowl in front of her. “Just tell us about this morning.”

Thistle’s gaze softened slightly.

“I left last night… to have the kit. I didn’t plan on coming back, but I couldn’t move very well. Figured I may as well return.”

Wolfstar and Lynxdawn exchanged glances but remained silent, waiting.

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” Thistle murmured, shifting uncomfortably. “Don’t you have a rule about asking queens where their kits are from?”

Wolfstar held her gaze before giving a small nod.

“You’re right, we do.” Lynxdawn’s smile was strained, but her voice was soft. She pushed the bowl closer. “Rest up. You and your daughter are safe here.”

Wolfstar flicked her tail as she stood, the sounds of the waking clan filtering into the den. She gestured for Lynxdawn to follow.

Outside, they kept their voices low.

“You believe her?” Wolfstar asked.

Lynxdawn nearly laughed. “That she gave birth this morning? Not a chance.”

“But?”

“But without an exam, I can’t say she didn’t give birth a few days ago.” She sighed. “The poultice on her back masks any scents I could use to check, and she won’t let me examine her closely.”

Wolfstar was silent for a moment, her gaze drifting toward the kitchen where Mallowstripe was preparing food.

Her stomach growled.

“Could she have been pregnant when you found her?”

“Maybe? I was more focused on her back. Plus, she lays on her belly all the time.” Lynxdawn’s stomach growled, and she let out another sigh. “I can’t make heads or tails of this.”

Wolfstar’s tail brushed against her back in reassurance. “We’ll let it rest for now. Go check on the kit. I’ll bring food for both of you.”

“And tell the clan?” Lynxdawn asked hopefully.

Wolfstar chuckled, her tone dry. “Nope. We’ll do that together after the meal.”

Lynxdawn groaned but returned to the den nonetheless.

A few days after the reveal of Thistle’s kit, the clan settled. Though concerns lingered, Lynxdawn reassured everyone that neither Thistle nor her daughter matched the signs or dreams surrounding Lostclaw.

Nearly a half-moon later, the kit’s eyes began to open. That morning, Lynxdawn found herself chatting with Thistle over a warm bowl of tea.

“So, you never told me—what exactly is this?” Thistle prodded the bowl with a paw.

Lynxdawn grinned. “It’s a tea of blessed thistle, milk thistle, and fennel.”

Thistle huffed a laugh, taking a sip. “Two different thistles, huh?” A rusty purr rumbled in her chest. “It’s sweet.”

“Oh, I had to add a ton of honey.” Lynxdawn laughed. “Blessed thistle is really bitter. I had to go to the twoleg place with Shadowdive to find some, but it’s great for milk production.”

Thistle hummed at that, drinking deeply. “And the milk thistle?”

“That one’s more common. It grows near where I found you.” She retrieved a jar. “It also helps with milk production, but it’s good for appetite, too.”

Thistle chewed a dried flower head thoughtfully. “Of course you’re giving me fennel, too.”

Lynxdawn laughed. “It’s important! It helps with milk production, inflammation, digestion, appetite—”

Thistle shook her head playfully. “You’re making all that up. No way one herb does all that.”

They shared a quiet chuckle as Lynxdawn tidied her den. A tiny mew broke the peace as the kit stirred.

“Do you have a name for her?” Lynxdawn asked. “It’s about the time we name kits in the clan.”

Thistle gave the kit a few rough licks. “Yeah, you told me about fading kits guiding their litters.” She hesitated, glancing between Lynxdawn and her daughter. “But I’ve had a name for her since day one.”

Lynxdawn’s ears perked. “Are you ready to share?”

Thistle exhaled slowly. “Briarkit.”

Lynxdawn froze, eyes widening. “Does that mean…?”

“If I can… I’d like to stay in SaltClan.” Thistle’s voice was quiet, almost embarrassed.

Lynxdawn squealed and bumped their heads together. “Of course! Wolfstar wouldn’t turn you away! I’ll talk to her right now!”

With a burst of excitement, Lynxdawn darted from the den, leaving Thistle chuckling as she gazed down at Briarkit, fondness in her eyes.

Greenleaf was nears its end, but it still managed to claim Nightleap as a victim before it was over. The black molly was brought back from patrol by Coralpaw and Otterpaw, dizzy and babbling.

Lynxdawn sent the apprentices to find Snowspeckle, then set a pot to boil. She laid water soaked moss on the over heated Molly’s side and under legs, the cool water instantly soothing her babbles.

“Nightleap can you eat this for me?” Lynxdawn asked loudly and slowly, waiting for acknowledgment.

Nightleap grunted and tried to nod, her panting picked up.

Good enough, she thought and brought a small bowl of feverfew infused honey. Nightleap lapped at it easily, her muzzle sticky, but she was getting most of it.

Once the water was hot, she poured it over a bowl of sage and fennel to steep. From the corner Thistle clicked her tongue, brows raised.

“Wow that was impressive,” She said, Briarkit sleeping still at her belly despite the commotion. “You work fast.”

Lynxdawn flushed, she’d forgotten the queen was still there. Letting out a nervous purr she sniffed the tea, checking its temperature. “Thanks, I try.”

“Whe-where am I?” Nightleap mumbled, resting her chin in the now empty bowl.

“In the cleric’s den.” Lynxdawn assured her, gently licking her forehead. “Otterpaw and Coralpaw brought you here.”

The black molly grimaced, unfocused eyes scrunching. “Ugh Coralpaw. I didn’t ask for an apprentice.”

The den was silent, Lynxdawn could hear her heart beat in her ears. Nightleap didn’t notice the tension, continuing on.

“And gah she’s ann-annoying.” She slurred, shaking her head. “Like I- Like I know how to be a mediator.”

Lynxdawn sat back, taking a deep breath, from the corner she saw Thistle’s hackles rising.

Letting her patient mumble and chatter as she checked her ear temperature. She sent a quick look to Thistle, the queen’s jaw was set but she kept quiet.

Lynxdawn strained the tea but set it aside to cool, taking a moment to change the wet moss again. Being out of the sun, Nightleap settled down more, lying on the cool sand instead of the nests.

Once the molly was dozing, no longer trying to talk, Thistle cleared her throat. “You’re better than me, Lynxie. I would’ve whacked the shit outta her for saying that about my kit.”

Lynxdawn snorted. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

“She knows, she just doesn’t know who she’s saying it to.” She grumbled, narrowed eyes on the napping patient.

“Honestly I’m not surprised. I saw her face when she was called up to mentor.” Lynxdawn sighed. “I’ll speak with Wolfstar and Snowspeckle. Hopefully we can smooth this out.”

Thistle said nothing, just set her narrow eyes on the sleeping molly.

That night Lynxdawn slept in her nest, still unused to sleeping alone when she saw a little face poke through the curtain of leather and moss.

“Coralpaw.” Her voice low but stern. “You should be in the apprentice den.”

The gray molly just purred, eyes squinting fondly. Without a word she climbed into her mother’s nest, curling tightly against her flank.

With a tsk, Lynxdawn dragged her tongue over her daughter’s scruff before settling back down.

Sleep came easier with another body in her nest.

Cat Allegiances:

Wolfstar- 24 moons. Leader. Responsible. Compassionate. Natural intuition. Apprentice- Ripplepaw & Dropletpaw.

Lynxdawn- 19 moons. Lead Cleric. Thoughtful. Faithful. Good teacher.

Snowspeckle- 35 moons. Deputy. Artisan. Loving. Thoughtful. Good singer. +Apprentice- Kelppaw

Nightleap- 39 moons. Warrior. Insecure. Sneaky. Incredible runner. +Apprentice- Coralpaw. +Condition: heat stroke.

Thistle-29 moons. Warrior. Troublesome. Thoughtful. Keen eye. Condition: Broken back & recovering from birth.

Mallowstripe- 25 moons. Camp keeper. Nervous. Careful. Strange dreamer.

Shadowdive- 23 moons. Warrior. Blood thirsty. Loyal. Good swimmer. Apprentice- Otterpaw & Sandpaw.

Ripplepaw - 11 moons. Warrior apprentice. Troublesome. Adventurous. Fast runner. Mentor- Wolfstar.

Otterpaw - 11 moons. Warrior apprentice. Insecure. Childish. Good swimmer. Mentor- Shadowdive.

Dropletkit→Dropletpaw- 6 moons. Historian apprentice. Skittish. Shy. Interested in clan history.

Kelpkit→Kelppaw- 6 moons. Artisan apprentice. Charming. Quiet. Plays in mud.

Coralkit→Coralpaw- 6 moons. Mediator apprentice. Noisy. Bossy. Never sits still.

Sandkit→Sandpaw- 6 moons. Warrior apprentice. Impulsive. Noisy. Moss ball hunter

+Briarkit- 0 moons. Inquisitive. Shy. Picky nest builder.

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[salt-clangen]

How many lives does each clan leader have as of now, if it's not treading into spoiler territory

Oooooh that’s a good question, I should’ve included that in the update!

Wolfstar has 8 lives left, she lost 1 to the dog that attacked Shadowdive

I won’t reveal Archstar’s exact number just yet but let’s assume they have majority or even all 9 left. They became leader shortly before Wolfstar so it’s not unreasonable and no one has heard any reports of them losing a life. Though most clan mates would keep that very hush hush, but gossip still spreads.

Rookstar has the second longest reign, he has 6 lives left, he lost 2 to Rainey a former clanmate (though it was separate incidents) and 1 to green cough his first leaf bare as leader

Jaggedstar has been leader the longest of the group and she has 4 lives left, she’s lost 1 to poisoned prey from the twoleg place, 1 to green cough, 1 to a loner, 1 to a fox, and 1 to Tall Water’s group during the final raid to defeat them (a rogue group made of defected warrior cats and loners who tried to form a clan but didn’t follow the warrior code and never received Starclan’s blessing)

From Saltclan’s perspective they know that Jaggedstar has the least amount left and that Rookstar lost at least one recently but no one is sure how many the other leaders have. The other clans are unaware Wolfstar has lost any lives yet.

[salt-clangen]

Non Saltclan updates

I lost the ask, but someone had mentioned wanting to know what was going on with the other clans so I figured I’d make a brief update for Honeyclan, Oakclan, and Duskclan. This is minor stuff that doesn’t really affect the plot, kinda like the gossip you’d get at a gathering.

Duskclan:

Greyclaw has finally taken a mate, she’s a small color point molly that was formerly a loner, then she joined Honeyclan met Greyclaw and moved to Duskclan to be with him. Her name is Ferncall and she’s a care taker.

Lynxdawn’s mom has passed, she was buried near the cleric stones to honor her life of caring for the clan’s kits. It was a very unpopular decision but Jaggedstar and Brackenpurr (the clan nurse and Mallow’s sister) have stood by it.

Tallowfoot and Wrenflight- Crow and Mallow’s sister’s respectively- are officially mates and making plans to find a sire to have kits.

Sparkclaw was pregnant, she didn’t make it to term. She hasn’t told anyone who the sire was but most assume it was Clearstorm.

Ashenstep was injured in a fight with Oakclan and now has a permanent limp, they’ve been relieved of warrior duties and all tasks not related to being a historian. In Duskclan this is kind of semiretirement.

Thornstrike has been on his best behavior lately, managing to get in both Jaggedstar and Greyclaw’s good graces. He’s been allowed to return to gatherings though no one outside of the clan knows why he was banned to begin with.

Crowpaw earned their cleric name, Crowflight

Both Greyclaw and Ashenstep received Wolfstar’s request to meet up in secret but neither have agreed. They agree they must focus on their clan even over their kin, if they can’t follow the warrior code when it’s difficult then what’s the point?

Frostwhisper is the lead cleric now, though they are hesitant to call themselves that, and Darkfold has officially retired. Shes kept fairly comfortable on pain soothing herbs and plenty of rest. She probably won’t make it to next newleaf.

Jaggedstar has finally taken another apprentice after Wolfstar’s defection. Her name is Dogpaw.

Oakclan

Archstar has regain popularity amongst their dissenters by leading a successful raid on Duskclan following a border skirmish.

Shadowdive’s sister, Inkypelt, is pregnant

Tanglefur has taken another apprentice, Snowspeckle’s adopted nephew, Minkpaw

Silverleaf, Shadowdive’s brother, has passed away from the border skirmish.

Smallstep is pregnant again

Mousefoot has officially retired after Redpaw earned his cleric name, Redmoon. We’ll see how long he stays retired.

Fogdapple is now the lead cleric….shes not thrilled

Robinswoop, the deputy, killed a fox that was attacking a Honeyclan patrol

Butterflygaze disappeared for a few days and came back with a rainbow collar on

Honeyclan

Bluemoon has given birth to 4 kits, though only 2 survived after heat stroke. Both are mollies named runningkit and mudkit.

Rookstar lost two lives after a former clan mate returned from their exile and attacked him. The offending cat, Rainey, has been killed.

Junipersong has been absent from gatherings as her ghost sense has become very distressing for her and she has panic attacks in large crowds.

Wandering twolegs have destroyed two hives, seemingly for fun, and the clan struggles to rebuild the hives and get the bees to return.

Sunpaw has gotten his warrior name, he’s now Suntell and a full artisan. He still greatly admires Snowspeckle.

Rosedrift is pregnant and has stepped away from her position as lead cleric for the time being, the clan is very scandalized as clerics are expected to not carry kits and remain in the cleric den.