#Spark Paw Patrol

[shadowwingtronix]

6 Amazing Heroes...In A Wheelchair

BW Media Spotlight proves that nobody thought Davros was evil because he was disabled after listing 6 Amazing Heroes...In A Wheelchair

You know, just when I start to settle in to the current level of stupidity coming out of the entertainment industry someone comes up with something even stupider to say. For example, Russell T. Davies tells us that he and his staff were insistent upon giving Davros an unmutated body because they were concerned their audience would equate being in a wheelchair with being evil. You know, instead of…

[sapphireginger]

Title: Paw Patrol - Chapter #15

Summary:

The twins cheered and urged Nia to come with them. She followed, still confused but after a glance at her daddy who smiled reassuringly, Nia ran to catch up with the twins, the three of them sneaking behind a tree.  “What are they up to?” Peter asked Stiles.  Said man grinned and tossed Peter a wink. “You’ll see.” Not even five minutes later, two little tiger cubs came tumbling out from behind the tree and to Peter’s utter shock—“Pup?” he whispered. The little wolf pup woofed and let out a little howl before running over to her daddy. She licked at his face and pawed at his chest. 

Prompt: Mating

Warnings:

None

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Steter [Stiles Stilinski + Peter Hale]

Word Count: 2,668

@mfbingo

It was safe to say that after a week or two or well maybe a week or three, that both dads felt more at ease about their relationship blossoming. Peter decided that instead of picking something solely for Stiles as his gift of court, he would choose something for all three of the Stilinskis. 

That was how all five of them ended up in the park on a sunny but cool Saturday afternoon with plans to go swimming after they ate. They had a picnic with so many goodies to munch on. They all settled on a blue and red picnic blanket that Peter had chosen after Nia told him Cas adored blue and Reyn adored red. If the way Stiles’s scent shifted to pleased was any indication, then the wolf had done well. 

Peter puffed out his chest in pride, preening at the way Stiles smiled and didn’t care one bit that he made the other man laugh with the action. He’d give anything to hear that laugh again for the rest of his life.

“Daddy?” Reyn said. He and Cas were barely able to sit still with how excited they were.

Stiles quirked a brow and waited until they settled. “Yes?”

Cas smiled sweetly. “Can we show Nia?”

“Pleaaaaaaase?” they pleaded. 

Nia perked up, her nose scrunching up and glanced at Stiles. “Show me what, Mr. Tinski?”

With a soft sigh and a fond smile, Stiles nodded. “Go ahead.” His eyes briefly flashed, and Peter felt a sense of calm settle over them as well as a layer of magic, but he wasn’t the least bit afraid. Stiles was definitely powerful and not to be underestimated but Peter did not fear him like he had before.

The twins cheered and urged Nia to come with them. She followed, still confused but after a glance at her daddy who smiled reassuringly, Nia ran to catch up with the twins, the three of them sneaking behind a tree. 

“What are they up to?” Peter asked Stiles. 

Said man grinned and tossed Peter a wink. “You’ll see.”

Not even five minutes later, two little tiger cubs came tumbling out from behind the tree and to Peter’s utter shock—“Pup?” he whispered.

The little wolf pup woofed and let out a little howl before running over to her daddy. She licked at his face and pawed at his chest. 

Peter couldn’t hold back his tears. “H-How?”

Stiles smiled softly and cleared his throat, making Peter glance over at him. The tiger spark’s cheeks were pink, and his scent had an undercurrent of nerves to it. “I-I thought I would offer it as a gift. I know that it’s special and I hope I didn’t overstep.”

The wolf started to cry and shook his head. “No. No, not at all.” He watched the wolf pup, watched his daughter, tumble off of his lap and scramble to play with the twins. He sighed wistfully, wishing he himself could still shift but he hadn’t done so in years.

Perhaps Stiles read his mind or maybe he had already intended to offer such a thing but between one moment and the next, Peter felt his body tense and then it seemed to liquify before he found himself standing on four legs instead of two.

A soft rumble reached the wolf’s ears and when he looked over to where Stiles had been sitting, he was shocked to see a tiger instead. The rumble grew louder but Peter knew it was more of a purr. Slowly he walked over to the other supe, unaware that the three little ones had stopped to watch. 

After a cautious scenting, the two adults smiled and relaxed. Then, Stiles decided to grace Peter with a lick from his snout to his ears. The wolf huffed and narrowed his eyes before pouncing. They rolled around together, play fighting as easy as breathing, eliciting two small roars and a soft howl before the kids joined in.

If anyone had been able to see the five supes they would’ve found themselves gazing upon two cubs, a wolf pup, an alpha wolf and a tiger spark playing as one big family in their full shifts. It was indeed a sight to behold and neither adult could believe they got to have this after all they had lost. Now that they had it though, they would hold tight to it with everything they had.

✶ 🐺  🐾 ❤︎ 🐾 🐯 ✶

Though the day at the park had been Peter’s idea and his gift, Stiles had offered a small gift as well. Therefore, when Stiles revealed that his gift would be a sleepover and movie night, Peter made sure he had something to offer as well. He liked the idea of a joint gifting just as much as a single gifting. 

After a little convincing, the dads agreed to the movies chosen by the kids. After all, they didn’t really mind what movie they watched as long as they got to watch it together, as long as they got to watch it as a family. 

Thus, they all curled up together and watched both versions of the Parent Trap. They started with the Hayley Mills version that was released in 1961 and then watched the Lindsay Lohan version that was released in 1998.

About halfway through the first movie, Peter and Stiles noticed that their kids were acting a little odd but didn’t think much of it until the same thing occurred halfway through the second movie. 

“All right,” Stiles said. “What’s going on with you three?”

The twins shrugged and then Reyn pointed to the tv where Annie and Hallie were going over details about their houses. “We tried to do that.”

Cas nodded. “And that.”

“That too!” Nia said with a smile.

Peter and Stiles exchanged a confused look, the wolf fixing his kid and the twins with a quirked brow. “What do you mean?”

The twins quickly averted their gazes, sipped at their apple juice and were suddenly way more invested in the movie. 

“Cubs?” Stiles chided softly.

Unsurprisingly, Nia piped up and said, “We were gonna trap you, Mr. Tinski. We wanted to trap you with daddy like Susan and Sharon and Hallie and Annie did with their mommy and daddy.” She then munched on some popcorn, her focus once more on the movie.

After exchanging a quick look with each other, Peter immediately texted Cora and Stiles immediately texted Lydia. 

[Stiles] What did you do? [Peter] Really Cora dear?

A notification appeared for both men and they realized the girls had added them to a group chat. Of course, they named it too and it brought a bright pink blush to both Stiles and Peter’s cheeks. 

Parent Trapped Idiots in Love [Cora] Really really, Uncle Peter. Sorry not sorry.  [Lydia] I did what would’ve taken you another decade to do, Stiles. Though honestly it wasn’t us exactly who came up with this. [Cora] Indeed. Those Twinskis came up with the general idea and little Nia decided on the name.

The twins and Nia watched and giggled as their daddies blushed an even darker shade of red. Cas took pity on their daddies and hurried to the bedroom to grab their secret research notes. She came back with a small but thick notebook and placed it on Peter’s lap. 

Watching their daddies open the book was painstakingly hard to do patiently but the twins each grabbed one of Nia’s hands and squeezed.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Stiles asked, gesturing to the book.

Peter smiled and laced his fingers with Stiles’s own. “Together?”

Stiles grinned and bit his lip as he nodded. “Together.”

With their linked fingers, they opened the notebook and began to read. As they turned each page, both Peter and Stiles got to see themselves through the eyes of their children. 

Daddy is brave and gives the best hugs. He reads us bedtime stories and always does the voices. He sings to us when we're sad and kisses our foreheads every night. He taught us how to be strong, brave and tells us just how much he loves us. Mr. Hale makes our daddy smile. He gives us piggyback rides and made us our favorite cake for our birthday. He protects us just like daddy protects us. Mr. Hale makes daddy happy and though he loves our daddy and wants to make daddy his mate, we are just as important to him, and he makes sure to never lets us forget it. We love Mr. Hale and want him to be our daddy too. Our daddy deserves to be happy and so does he.

Both Stiles and Peter had to brush away tears that were now slipping down their cheeks, but they kept reading as they got to Nia’s entries.

My daddy is brave, smart, sarcastic, funny and protective. He shows me every day that no matter what you face, you can always overcome it. He fought hard to be the daddy he tells me I deserve, and I hope he knows he's always been the best daddy a pup could ask for. He's never let me down. Even though he sometimes drinks the last of the milk or eats my candy, I still love him. He's my daddy and I'm his pup. We're pack. We're family and I know no matter what happens, I'll always have my daddy, and know he'll always be there for me. Mr. Tinski brought light into our life and made my daddy preen and laugh. He gave daddy hope that he could love and be loved by a mate. When I had a panic attack, Mr. Tinski didn't hesitate to step in and comfort me. He smells good too and I know that he will keep me safe as if I was his pup too.  Because of how happy he makes my daddy and because after watching the twinskis I know he's a good daddy too, I want Mr. Tinski and daddy to be mates.

Every page that they turned brought more warmth to their hearts and tears to their eyes. The next page was a joint entry from all three kids.

There will be good days when we get pancakes, cuddles and laugh a lot.  There will be bad days when we're late for school, don't talk for hours and cry a lot. But together as a family, a pack, a pride, together as one unit, we will overcome it. So, we've decided to help our daddies be mates. Auntie Liddy and Cora said they could lock our daddies in a closet until they kiss and make up, but we think we have a better idea. Then again, we believe that our daddies will figure it out themselves because that's who they are.  Our daddy has never looked at anyone like he looks at Mr. Hale. My daddy has never looked at anyone like he looks at Mr. Tinski. So, even if they have bad breath, stinky feet, laugh loudly, snort, leave their towels on the ground, don't let us stay up late, put us in timeout, make us eat broccoli, forget to buy groceries or any other stuff like that, we don't care because at the end of the day, they are our daddies, and we wouldn't want them any other way.  We love you! Love Nia, Cas, and Reyn Your Pup & Your Cubs. 🐾 🐾 🐾 

✶ 🐺  🐾 ❤︎ 🐾 🐯 ✶

“Oh, my goddess,” Stiles whispered, choking on the lump of emotion in his throat and Peter wasn't faring much better. The wolf and tiger spark looked at their kids, looked at each other and in that moment, they knew this was forever. They had already known it but in this moment, they fully acknowledged it. They could see it in each other’s eyes, feel it in their souls and without hesitation they kissed. It was a soft thing, a promise and a declaration all at once. 

They pulled away and were graced with cheers from the three kids who started to sing. 

“YOU’RE WELCOOOOOOOOOME!!!”

✶ 🐺  🐾 ❤︎ 🐾 🐯 ✶

The following weekend, Stiles and Peter decided to take the kids to the zoo for their first official outing as a family. While they were there, Nia noticed something about the tour that confused her. So, during a break, while Peter took the twins to get snacks for everyone, Nia stayed with Stiles and gently tugged his hand.

“Mr. Tinski?”

“Yes, kiddo?”

Nia bit her lip and mumbled something too soft for even were ears to catch. 

Stiles caught her scent, and it was worrying enough that he slowly squatted down in front of her. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Um well I had a question.”

“I love questions.”

Nia scrunched her nose and smiled softly. “Well, um the guide lady said that a group of lions is called a pride, a group of wolves is a pack b-but when she said the word about a group of tigers I got confused.”

Stiles tilted his head and then stilled. “Ambush.”

“Yeah,” Nia whispered. “That’s what she said but you say pride and you’re very smart. Why did she say the wrong name?”

A heavy weight settled in Stiles’s chest. “Well, she didn’t say the wrong name, sweetheart. A group of tigers is called an ambush but when I lost someone very important to me it was because of a Hunter ambush. I couldn’t use that term anymore after that.”

Nia searched his face and frowned slightly, her expression sad and way too knowing for an almost seven year old. “Cas and Reyn’s mommy?”

Stiles teared up and nodded. “Yeah.”

With a soft whine, Nia threw her arms around his neck and scented him fiercely. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Nia.”

The little pup pulled back and shook her head. “It’s okay not to be okay, Mr. Tinski. Daddy still hurts right here,” she placed her palm over Stiles’s heart. “When he thinks about Auntie Lia and Cousin Laura. You lost your mate and that’s like losing your heart. That’s what daddy said.”

Stiles nodded sadly. “It’ll always hurt but I’m going to tell you what I told your daddy. Okay?”

“‘Kay.”

As he spoke, Stiles fixed her braid. “Even though I will always love her, my heart has room for you and your daddy.”

Nia perked up and wiggled excitedly but tried not to get too worked up. “Really?! That means that you’re gonna love daddy and me?!”

Stiles met Peter’s gaze over her shoulder and smiled. “I already do.”

✶ 🐺  🐾 ❤︎ 🐾 🐯 ✶

Sporting mating bites high on their necks, the two mates returned from two and a half months away to three very unhappy kiddos. However, once Cas, Reyn and Nia saw the bites they were ecstatic. Congratulations were given all around with a promise to get together as a pack, as a pride, to get together as a family next weekend. They decided to keep another bit of news to themselves for now, though they knew they wouldn’t be able to do so for long. 

Peter kept subtly placing his hand on Stiles’s stomach when he thought no one was looking, though Stiles was pretty sure the wolf didn’t care who was watching. He just kept rumbling happily and nuzzling at the tiger spark’s mating bite. Despite no outward change, the wolf couldn’t wait to meet their children, and neither could his mate. 

They found out that they were having three girls and one boy and had already decided what to name their little ones. They chose Novalee Talia Stilinski-Hale for the first girl, Laura Claudia Stilinski-Hale for the second girl, Petra Naomi Stilinski-Hale for the third girl and Dubeaux Noah Stilinski-Hale for the boy. In doing so, this would be a way to honor the ones they had loved and lost, making sure they were never forgotten. They had a bright future ahead of them full of endless possibilities. While they would never forget the past, they would no longer let it keep them from the future and oh what a future it would be.

[rileys-battlecats]

micaclan tumblr dash simulator

☁️ the-fluffiest-puddle follow

I cannot believe the things my friends talk me into. on an unrelated note where can you hide a baby coyote

#puddletalks #seriously where did they find that thing #and WHY did they keep it??

(3 notes)

⭐️ larkstar-unofficial follow

if you catch prey and eat it before bringin anything back to the clan i'll kill you on sight <3 many such cases, unfortunately

🌠 larkstar-official follow

Laureltail I know this is you. I've told you twice now to delete this blog. Meet me in my den this evening, we're having a talk

⭐️ larkstar-unofficial follow

chat i think im going to die tonight

#remember me #never forget my sacrifice

(24 notes)

🐆 speckled-trees-and-autumn-leaves follow

people looove to ask me "oh birchspeckle tell me the future, will the clan thrive this greenleaf, will i find a mate that loves me" but then the SECOND i tell them the exact time and date of their death suddenly I'M the bad guy?? like ok sweaty you're the one that was after forbidden knowledge you don't get to be choosy about what you learn

#justmedicinecatthings #seriously they get so upset when they learn this stuff like. how do you think i feel? #i just gotta sit on this information forever? im not allowed to vent?? #this is why i never hang out in the camp smh

(1 note)

🐦‍⬛ muddy-paws follow

anybody else finding the torment relentless

(0 notes)

💊 owlpounce-official follow

This is your reminder to stretch before partaking in any strenuous activity! The best way to stay healthy and happy is to take steps to avoid being hurt in the first place. Stretching first may seem like a waste of time, but I promise it's much better to spend a few minutes stretching your legs before hunting than to spend a few days in the medicine den recovering from a pulled muscle!

#PSA #selfcare #safe practices

(15 notes)

🍐 having-a-peary-good-day follow

I don't want to name any names, but I feel like we as a clan have an issue with delegation of labor when it comes to the care of our most vulnerable members. Watching the kits is all well and good, but as the only current queen in the nursery right now, I find myself doing so much repair work for the den walls all by myself. Nominally, our apprentices ought to be doing much of this work, but quite frankly, our 'paws simply don't have the necessary experience to fix the more delicate areas, and I have ended up redoing much of their work myself. This isn't to disparage our apprentices, they've been doing their best, but I have ideas as to how we might better address these issues as a clan.

Keep reading

#genuinely I think we could be doing this so much more efficiently #like I understand that the 'paws need the learning experience #but not at the cost of our kitten's warmth and safety #you know? #and that's not even mentioning the elder's den

(7 notes)

💫 swooping-hawk-rising-star follow

fffksnkd. Ssssssksdjsj,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,h

🪷 white-tipped-tail follow

You ok, Hawkpaw?

💫 swooping-hawk-rising-star follow

COYOTE PUP ON MY KEYBOARD

#HELP

(4 notes)

🦊 foxjaw-official follow

The dawn patrol spotted bear tracks this morning just past the northeastern border, near the old hemlock tree. The tracks were old, and did not lead into Micaclan territory. Be that as it may, remember to remain on guard, and to travel in groups of 3 or more until it can be confirmed that the bear has not remained close by.

#PSA #patrol reports

(15 notes)

🏞️ gullys-tuft follow

Why is Sandleap retching into the bushes

#should i really be asking? #do i even want to know?

(2 notes)

🌸 resting-on-your-laurels follow

gonna stuff a frog inside a squirrel for my morning meal. surf and terf

🌸 resting-on-your-laurels follow

dont do this

🔥 embers-and-sparks follow

you can't tell me what to do

🔥 embers-and-sparks follow

dont do this

🏜️ pocket-sand follow

It can't be that bad!

🏜️ pocket-sand follow

dont do this

#the texture #its so bad #i dont want to waste prey but. i dont think i can swallow this #not pogchamp

(13 notes)

—————————————————————————

[mysunshinetemptress]

Hi, Can't wait for the fics that you write I lover them all. But can I request a Katrina Gorry x wife reader, where the reader is a footballer too but in England or Spain team. Thanks....

Mi Vida

Katrina Gorry x Reader

Angst fluff

Falling in love with your wife has been the easiest thing you had ever done, telling her you loved her was nerve wracking but not hard, asking her to marry you was an easy decision planning out how you where going to do it not so much, organising the wedding was complicated but ultimately you both had decided to marry at La Fortaleza in Mallorca and finally the decision to start a family had been the quickest yes you had said in your life finally feeling your life align the way you had always hoped.

That changed when your wife had been signed to a team in Sweden and had ultimately decided that she would be the one to take your 6 month old daughter with her. Both your girls where three hours away by plane and the only way you got to speak to them was through a phone most of the time. You couldn’t help but feel deflated after you hung up every night, looking over the videos you had been sent of Harpers first steps to her first words and little sentences she was still trying to string together.

You spent every break you could in Sweden trying to make up for lost time but every time you saw them both your heart broke at how much had changed how big Harper was getting so quickly, and with that her interests something you didn’t catch on to until she had been a screaming mess shouting how much she hated paw patrol when you had tried to give her the presents you had brought over. What hurt even more was how little Spanish she had or understood compared to her understanding of Swedish “Osa puedes decir te amo mamá ?.” Harper had stood clueless babbling before you tried again and she began to get frustrated a tantrum ensuing after as Katrina watched heart breaking at your crest fallen features realising what was happening to her family.

Leaving was never easy you felt guilty watching Harper beg and cry for you to stay to not leave her and how hopeless she slowly became to your promises to return “too long mama stay.” You of course would only answer in Spanish wanting to surround her in as much of it as possible during such a short time, “lo sé, osa, lo siento, te prometo te veré pronto mi niña.” Harper would begin getting frustrated shouting for you to speak English.

Katrina had been a bystander during these moments, she had felt her heart break the minute she told you she had signed to play in Sweden and would be taking Harper with her, she was surprised you hadn’t fought for her to stay in Spain with you surrounded by her Tías instead when she had begun shouting at you to say something about her decision you had grabbed her into your arms and told her it was ok, having Harper move from place to place wouldn’t be good for her at all and if Katrina thought Sweden would be best for your daughter then you would support her. But she couldn’t deny she felt regret and guilt creep in watching you try to hold back tears on FaceTime or hear you cry every night you where home as you tried to hide it.

After talking to her agent Katrina decided that the 2023 season would be her last in Sweden, but she had decided to keep it a surprise from you wanting to bring some spark back in your eyes since she had left. But first was the Women’s World Cup.

Australia and New Zealand had been chosen to co host this years World Cup and the Matilda’s had been hopeful that they would win it on home soil, whereas the Spanish team La Rojas as they where fondly called had been shadowed in controversy and had come into the tournament wanting to prove the world they where more than what the news projected them to be.

Your contract with Barcelona was set to end while you where playing at the World Cup and you had made the decision to leave the club on a high of winning a champions league and leave for a new league the WSL, what team you would been signing to was get to be made known to the press wanting to tell you close family and friends before the big announcement.

The Spanish federation hadn’t been as accommodating as you hoped, refusing to allow you to fly over two days ahead of the team in order to see your wife and daughter or even letting you see them once you arrived over stating they didn’t want any distractions, Alexia and Ona stood beside just off camera as you called Katrina “Hola Mi Amor.” Katrina knew something was wrong the minute your face appeared “everything ok my love.” You looked at your teammates before sighing “they won’t let me fly out two days early or see you during the tournament, I don’t know how you say eh distracción.” Katrina eyes softened “distraction love.” You nodded “I just want to see her and to see you too.” Katrina felt the guilt come back “I know I’m sorry my love it won’t be much longer.” You nodded “is she there my little osa.” Katrina smiled sadly at the hope in your eyes at seeing your daughter “mums taken her to the park y/n I’m sorry.” You could only smile sadly at her “it’s ok, I have something to tell you though.” Katrina hummed letting you know she was listening “I’m leaving Barcelona, I want to go to England to play plus flight times are less I get to you both quicker no.” Katrina was overjoyed at the news “oh darling I’m…really but you love Barcelona.” You nodded “I do but it’s the right time.” Katrina smiled at you before she was interrupted by your older two children Kyra and Charli “hola ma how are you.” You smiled at the younger girls. “I’m good but I have to go I’ll see you all soon and please give my osa a big hug and kiss from me tell her I love her.” Katrina could see the heart break in your eyes at your words “she knows my love but I’ll remind her.”

The tournament had been a nightmare for the Matilda’s, they had been knocked out by England and would now battle Sweden for the bronze while you faced England at the hopes of winning it all. The team had gathered in the screening room to watch match hopping for your wife to win. Anytime Katrina came on screen your team cheered and your heart swelled every time of course those cheers got so much louder when your daughter appeared on screen as they all talked about how cute she was you felt tears form in your eyes seeing her dressed in her Australia jersey waving a flag. You texted the Australian girls after stating how proud you where of and that deserved so much more but that she should be proud of leaving it all out on the pitch and creating history.

You stood in the tunnel holding your mascots hand when you felt a tap on your shoulder turning to see Alessia Russo “Rumour has it your joining the WSL.” You nodded smiling “that rumour would be true.” Alessia smiled Turing to face the front “I look forward to it then.” You smiled before squeezing your mascots hand asking if she was ready to go. Walking out you stood proud giving your jacket to the young girl shivering in front of you before singing the national anthem and saying good by taking your place on the back line with Ona.

You had done your best making sure your back line stayed strong against such a strong English squad. You found an opportunity in the 29 minute the lioness gravitating to the left wing gave you the chance to break into the middle right before calling for the pass from Bonmatí seeing Mary just off her mark you sent a rocket to the top left holding your breath as it nestled in the back turning you ran to your bench jumping onto Alexia as she screamed in excitement before you looked past the bench to see the Matilda’s standing behind it, you spotted your wife and daughter pointing at the letting them know it was for them before Alexia pushed you back down to the pitch telling you to get a move on.

The minute the final whistle blew you dropped to the ground before feeling your teammates pile on top of you before you shook them off walking straight to the lionesses, congratulating them on their performance before Lotte Wubben moy grabbed you “we need you holy shit mate.” You laughed pulling her into a hug “I’m Spanish but ooh to be a gooner.” Lotte squealed pulling you tighter “can’t wait mate.” You nodded before excusing your self.

You ran right past your management team before jumping the Barrier as fans around you tried to grab you but you ignored them running up the steps “salto de Osa.” Harper jumped from Charli’s arms “oh mi Osa te amo.” Katrina pushed through the girls congratulating you pulling you down to kiss her “I’m so proud of you of all of you you did it Y/n.” You felt tears well in your eyes “I couldn’t do it without you it is all for you I’m sorry you didn’t win but what’s mine is yours sí.”

Harper wouldn’t let you go for the trophy ceremony, Katrina stating she was jealous of the mascot the minute you walked out holding her hand screaming that you where her Mama and only hers. You took your medal with Harper on your hip as well as threw her in the air when they raised the trophy before letting the girls take her away briefly as Katrina made her way on to the pitch “for you.” You took your medal off putting it over your wife’s head kissing her softly. Katrina held you as you watched Harper laugh with the girls “ lm leaving.” You froze “leaving what.” Katrina could see the worry in your face “Sweden I’ve decided I’m done splitting this family apart so at the end of this season I’m leaving and I’m following you to England.” You felt your heart swell “really.” Katrina nodded “my life is with you and Harper no where else I can’t live through that or put you both through that again it broke my heart seeing her cry every night knowing you where doing the same in Spain.” You held her as she gave you her reasoning “I’m going to Arsenal.” Kyra squealed from behind you “I am too oh we are going to be a real family in England.” Charli nodded “yeah cause I decide I wasn’t being left out either.” You felt content finally creep back in as you looked around at your little family “oh mi Vida es Bella.”

[salt-clangen]

Moon 13

New leaf

A/N: gonna make a separate post for the new leaf festival

“Let all cats old enough to swim gather for a clan meeting!” Wolfstar’s voice rang out from her perch atop the rocks, clear and steady against the crash of distant waves.

Cats began to filter in, their movements purposeful yet calm. Lynxdawn emerged from her den, her steps measured and reluctant. Instead of leaping to her usual spot, she lingered near the back, her blue eyes sharp and watchful.

The clan seemed to hum with anticipation. Snowspeckle had been grooming Ripplekit and Otterkit since dawn, her usual playfulness tempered with pride. The kits sat between their parents, their eyes wide as the moment they’d been waiting for finally arrived. It was still strange for them to see Nightleap and Snowspeckle side by side, but for today, that didn’t matter.

Ripplekit’s tail flicked impatiently, while Otterkit’s paws kneaded the sand. Both struggled to keep still.

Wolfstar’s voice carried across the gathered cats. “Ripplekit, Otterkit, you’ve reached the age of six moons, and it’s time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your full names, you will be known as Ripplepaw and Otterpaw.”

A ripple of excitement passed through the crowd as the two kits puffed up with pride.

“I understand you both have chosen the path of warriors. Is that correct?”

“Yes, Wolfstar!” Ripplepaw chirped.

“Yeah!” Otterpaw’s voice cracked with excitement.

“Otterpaw, your mentor will be Shadowdive. Ripplepaw, I will be your mentor.”

Gasps of surprise rippled through the gathered cats as Wolfstar’s words settled. Ripplepaw’s eyes sparkled with a mix of awe and determination.

Wolfstar turned her gaze to Shadowdive, her voice steady. “Shadowdive, you are ready for an apprentice. You’ve proven yourself to be loyal and relentless. I expect you to pass on all your knowledge to Otterpaw.”

Shadowdive dipped his head respectfully before stepping forward to meet his new apprentice. Otterpaw bounded up with such enthusiasm that their noses nearly bumped too hard. Shadowdive chuckled softly, his dark tail brushing Otterpaw’s shoulder in reassurance as they sat together.

Wolfstar leapt gracefully from her perch, landing lightly in the sand before Ripplepaw. She lowered her head, meeting his eager gaze as they touched noses. His energy buzzed like a spark ready to ignite, and she felt a flicker of pride.

The clan erupted in cheers, their voices harmonizing with the crash of the sea.

“Ripplepaw! Otterpaw! Ripplepaw! Otterpaw!”

Wolfstar raised her tail, dismissing the meeting as the apprentices joined their mentors. She lingered for a moment, watching Ripplepaw’s tail sway with excitement and Otterpaw’s laughter as he pounced playfully after Shadowdive.

The future of SaltClan shimmered like sunlight on the waves, but beneath it all, the weight of what was to come still lingered.

Wolfstar led Ripplepaw to the small field just north of camp for their first patrol. They’d gone over hunting stances and basic stalking techniques earlier, but now it was time to put them into practice.

“Move like me,” she signed, the blustering winds making it hard for Ripplepaw to hear even on his good side. He nodded eagerly.

Crouching, she demonstrated a proper stalking stance, watching closely as Ripplepaw mimicked her movements. With a flick of her tail, she made small adjustments, nudging his paws and shoulders into position. Satisfied, she picked up a leaf and set it a few paces away.

“Pounce,” she signed.

Ripplepaw leaned back on his haunches, shifting lightly as he crept closer. His eyes gleamed with focus as he launched himself forward, landing squarely on the leaf with a satisfying crunch.

“Good,” she signed with enthusiasm. “Pounce good for small things.”

After a few more practice leaps, they moved toward the border. Ripplepaw followed her lead, moving carefully through the tall grass. Wolfstar paused, her tail lifting as she scented the air.

“Mouse,” she signed, but Ripplepaw’s ears were already pricked, his eyes alight with excitement.

He crept forward, silent and deliberate. Wolfstar hung back, letting him take the lead. Just as he pounced, the mouse darted away, vanishing into the grass. Ripplepaw let out a frustrated grunt.

“It’s okay,” she signed reassuringly, but he shook his head.

“No, it’s not,” he signed back, his pout unmistakable.

Wolfstar rolled her eyes playfully and led him further east. By the end of their patrol, Ripplepaw hadn’t caught any prey, his growing frustration leading to clumsy mistakes.

“Alright,” Wolfstar said as the sun reached its peak, her voice loud enough to cut through the softening wind. “Let’s head back to camp.”

“What?” Ripplepaw squeaked, spinning to face her. “We can’t go back until I catch something!”

“That’s not how it works,” she said gently. “You’re not going to catch something on every patrol, especially at first. Hunting takes practice, and failure’s part of the process.”

Ripplepaw huffed, his tail lashing.

“Besides,” she added, “when we’re frustrated, we make more mistakes. Let’s go back, do some stretches to calm the spirit, and take a nap.”

Ripplepaw hesitated but finally nodded. “Can we come back out after?”

Wolfstar smiled. “We can, but we’ll be gathering firewood. We can try hunting along the way, though. I promise.”

Ripplepaw’s steps grew lighter. “Can I lead the way back?”

“Sure, dear,” she said, following him, silently hoping he remembered the route.

Meanwhile, Otterpaw followed Shadowdive west to the river’s end, carrying a small basket. His eyes shone with excitement for his first patrol.

“The water moves fast here, so we’ll cross where it’s shallow,” Shadowdive said, pointing to a calm stretch. “This is where the east river meets the sea. The river’s fresh water, but the sea is salt water. Together, they make this brackish, silty water.”

“Can we drink it?” Otterpaw asked.

“Try it and see.”

Otterpaw lapped at the water and immediately spat it out. “Eugh!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty gross,” Shadowdive laughed, wading into the shallows.

Otterpaw splashed after him, bumping playfully against his side. “You meanie!”

They crossed together, their laughter carried by the breeze.

When they reached the tide pools, Shadowdive perched on a black rock. “These pools are where we scavenge. Stick to clams and fish. The spiky purple things are urchins—they sting and it hurts. The orange ones are starfish. Not edible.”

Otterpaw listened intently as they started gathering clams, gently prying them free and plopping them into their baskets. Shadowdive demonstrated how to snag fish trapped in the pools, and Otterpaw eagerly followed his lead. After a few failed attempts, he caught two fish, his mentor handling the rest.

Once the pools were cleared, Otterpaw eagerly jumped into the ocean water. He’d practiced swimming in camp pools and with his mother before leaf-bare, and his legs remembered the motions. He paddled in circles before diving under the water, his tail cutting through the surface.

Shadowdive joined him in the shallow waves. The water rocked them with its rhythm, but Otterpaw kept his head above water and even managed a few short dives.

They practiced until sunhigh, the young apprentice exhausted but glowing with pride. When they returned to camp, Otterpaw rushed ahead to show off his haul.

“Look!” he chirped, setting his clams and fish before his mother and Wolfstar. “I caught two fish and a bunch of clams!”

“Very good, honey,” Snowspeckle said, licking his head affectionately.

“Well done, Otterpaw,” Wolfstar added. “Would you like to join me and Ripplepaw for some stretches before a nap?”

Despite his aching limbs, Otterpaw nodded eagerly. He didn’t want to miss a chance to learn from the clan leader.

Later, as they settled into their nests, Otterpaw noticed Ripplepaw’s unusual quiet. “So, did you do anything cool on your patrol?” he asked.

Ripplepaw stayed silent for a moment, his nose pressed to his paws. “It was fine. We went on a border patrol,” he mumbled.

“Oh, did you hunt?” Otterpaw asked.

Ripplepaw sighed. “Yeah, a little.”

Otterpaw didn’t press further, figuring his brother was tired. The den fell quiet as they both drifted into sleep.

After sunset, Snowspeckle approached the cleric’s den, a bundle of leaves held delicately in her jaws. At the entrance, she cleared her throat softly.

Lynxdawn turned, her fur slightly ruffled with surprise. “Snow? What are you doing here?”

Snowspeckle blinked warmly, setting down the leaves. “I brought you a gift.”

“A gift?” Lynxdawn leaned forward, her curiosity piqued as she nosed through the bundle. “Basil and mallow leaves? These seem more like something Mallowstripe would need.”

“They’re not for him,” Snowspeckle said with a light laugh. “They’re for you—to decorate your pelt.”

Lynxdawn blinked, caught off guard. “Me?”

The white molly nodded, her voice bright with cheer. “I realized, with everything that happened during your graduation, I hadn’t given you anything to celebrate.”

Lynxdawn stilled, her breath catching in her throat. The memory of her ceremony felt so muddied by arguments and tense glances that she’d barely thought of it as a milestone, let alone something worth celebrating.

“Here, let me weave them into your fur,” Snowspeckle offered, already settling down behind her. “Your coat’s lovely—perfect for braiding.” Her tone was casual, as if they were sharing a simple moment, but there was a distinct tenderness in her touch as she began working the leaves into Lynxdawn’s tail.

“I wasn’t sure what to get you,” Snowspeckle continued, her voice warm and melodic, “but Wolfstar suggested basil and mallow. She said they’re wards of protection and healing. Personally, I just think their scent suits you.”

Lynxdawn let the gentle chatter wash over her, filling the quiet of the den with familiarity. Her body relaxed under Snowspeckle’s soothing movements, the fresh aroma of basil mingling with the light warmth of the molly’s breath.

“There, all done,” Snowspeckle said, stepping back. The warmth of her presence ebbed slightly, leaving a pleasant tingle behind.

Lynxdawn glanced over her tail, where the neatly woven leaves shimmered faintly in the dim light. A sprig of basil rested behind her ear, the fragrance grounding her in the moment. She turned her gaze to Snowspeckle, her heart swelling.

“Thank you, Snow,” she said softly, her voice carrying more weight than she intended. “I love it.”

Fennelheart’s condition was worsening. His tail throbbed with heat, yellow pus oozing from the infected wound. As if that weren’t enough, he’d developed greencough, his breathing ragged and his hacking cough relentless despite the new leaf weather.

“Drink this.” Lynxdawn passed him a bowl of herbal tea, the faint aroma of catmint and mullein wafting up. Next she passed him some

“Thanks,” he rasped, his voice rough and strained. Lynxdawn grimaced, mentally noting to add more honey to his next dose.

She turned, letting the moss and pelt curtain fall back into place, and nearly jumped when a voice spoke behind her.

“How is he?”

Mallowstripe stood to her left, his golden eyes cautious. He took a step back, nervously flicking his tail when she startled.

“He’s…” Lynxdawn hesitated, glancing back at the curtain as another raspy cough rattled from within. “He’s stable,” she said, though her tone betrayed her uncertainty.

Mallowstripe nodded, his face somber. “I see.” He hesitated, then fell into step beside her as she headed toward her den. “I’ll start this evening’s meal. Do you have any requests for him?”

She paused, considering. “Something soft and hydrating. His appetite’s been low, so maybe a bit of clams to tempt him.” She began pulling down bowls and a pestle, her paws moving with practiced precision.

“I’ll make sure it’s suitable,” Mallowstripe replied, shuffling his paws awkwardly when he realized she wasn’t looking at him.

Lynxdawn gathered horsetail, marigold, and goldenrod, her mind already on the poultice she needed to prepare. She glanced back when Mallowstripe lingered, still rooted in place.

“Thank you,” she said curtly, her voice carrying a note of dismissal.

Mallowstripe shifted again, glancing toward the camp’s empty clearing before looking back at her. “Do you… need anything else?”

Her tail flicked in irritation. “What is it, Mallowstripe?”

He jumped slightly, his golden eyes wide. “Just… how have you been?”

Lynxdawn froze for a moment before setting her tools down with a deliberate thud. “Fine,” she growled, her hackles rising. “Aside from the fact that my entire life has been a lie.”

Mallowstripe’s ears twitched, but his voice remained soft. “Has it, though? Hasn’t she loved and cared for you? Was all that a lie?”

Lynxdawn whirled on him, claws digging into the sandy ground. “Maybe it was!” she snapped. “How would I know?”

Mallowstripe flinched, his golden eyes darkening as his face fell. The scar across his face seemed to deepen in the low light. “That’s not true, and you know it,” he said quietly. “You can be angry, Lynxdawn, but don’t be cruel.”

Before she could respond, he turned and padded away, his tail low but steady.

Lynxdawn stood frozen, her chest heaving with the remnants of her anger. She glared at the den entrance, but the sharp edges of her fury began to dull.

With a sharp exhale, she turned back to her tools, grinding the herbs with more force than necessary. Her paw slipped, and the pestle slammed into her toe.

“Fuck!” she hissed, jerking back and cradling her paw as pain throbbed through it. Tears welled in her eyes, and for a moment, she sat in the silence, her chest aching with more than just the sting in her paw.

Most of the leaf-bare snow had melted, leaving the camp and much of the territory a soggy, muddy mess. Daily tasks became a battle against the sticky earth, and no cat escaped without a pelt caked in grime.

But the rain and mud brought gifts, too—new shoots and sprouting herbs. Herbal patrols had grown fruitful once more, though Lynxdawn took to them alone. Her swirling thoughts made for constant, if not comforting, company.

This morning was bright and clear as she padded toward the abandoned nest, searching for dandelions and chamomile.

Wolfstar had warned the clan about visiting the nest alone, given the rising tension with DuskClan. But Lynxdawn didn’t want an escort. She was a cleric; she could go where she pleased.

Her confidence wavered as she arrived and heard faint, unfamiliar sounds on the wind. Her hackles rose as she crept closer, sticking to the treeline.

The sounds grew clearer—tiny mewls.

Heart pounding, she rushed forward and froze at the sight of four small kits nestled beneath a fallen branch, their bright eyes blinking up at her. The smallest one wobbled to her paws, her tiny frame trembling, while the others huddled close behind.

Lynxdawn’s gaze darted around. Surely their mother was nearby. Circling the area, she scented the air and soon stumbled across the queen’s body. The lifeless form startled her, and she crouched cautiously, her breath catching. A quick check confirmed the inevitable—the queen was cold, her ribs sharp against her thin pelt. Starvation, Lynxdawn concluded grimly.

She returned to the kits, crouching a few tail-lengths away. “Hi, my name is Lynxdawn,” she said softly.

“Wynx-don,” the eldest, a brown tabby, repeated in a small, trembling voice.

“That’s right. I’m a friendly cat.” Lynxdawn smiled, blinking slowly. “Are you friendly cats too?”

The littlest kit, a sandy-colored molly, raised her tail and stepped forward. “Yea!”

“Just you? Or all of you?” Lynxdawn teased gently, her smile widening.

A fluffy gray molly tottered forward, beaming. “Me! Me!”

Lynxdawn chuckled and looked expectantly at the last two. Twin tabbies—one gray, one brown.

The gray one didn’t move closer but offered a timid smile. “Yes, me.”

Her sister stayed rooted, wide-eyed, and only nodded.

“Since we’re all friendly, why don’t you come with me?” Lynxdawn coaxed, her voice light. “I live with some other friendly cats who’d love to meet you.”

“But mama?” the brown tabby whispered, glancing back at the fallen branch.

Lynxdawn’s heart ached. “Let’s meet my friends first, and I’ll come back to take care of her, okay? You four must be hungry. We have some fish waiting for you.”

The kits seemed uncertain but followed her, their tiny paws splashing through the mud.

When they reached camp, gasps rose as the clan gathered, eyes wide with surprise.

“Lynxdawn!” Wolfstar called, striding from her den, her steps lighter than they’d been in days. Her gaze softened as it fell on the kits. “Who are these little ones? Where’s their mother?”

Lynxdawn stepped aside as Snowspeckle and Nightleap approached to soothe the kits with soft murmurs. Lowering her voice, Lynxdawn replied, “I found them at the abandoned nest. Their mother… she didn’t survive. Likely starvation.”

Wolfstar’s eyes darkened. “Poor things. It’s good you brought them here—they wouldn’t have lasted long on their own.”

“I’ll need to return to retrieve her body,” Lynxdawn said firmly. “She deserves a proper burial.”

Wolfstar hesitated, then nodded. “No, you stay. The kits trust you. I’ll take Shadowdive, and we’ll make sure she’s laid to rest.”

Lynxdawn started to argue but thought better of it, nodding stiffly. “Thank you.”

Wolfstar approached the kits, lowering herself to their level. “Hello! I’m Wolfstar, the leader of this clan. Lynxdawn tells me you’re her friends.”

The sandy-colored kit’s tail fluffed with excitement. “Wooftar!”

Wolfstar chuckled, her warm gaze shifting to the others. The two gray kits lingered close, curious but quiet, while the brown tabby cast nervous glances at the crowd.

“Do you have names?” Snowspeckle asked gently.

The brown tabby shook her head, her siblings too distracted to answer.

Wolfstar straightened, addressing the clan. “Someone will need to care for them.”

“I will,” Lynxdawn said, stepping forward as the gray tabby kit rubbed against her leg with a soft purr.

“But mama?” the brown tabby asked again, her voice trembling.

“She won’t be joining us,” Lynxdawn murmured, crouching to meet the kit’s wide eyes. “But my friend Wolfstar will make sure she’s taken care of. Okay?”

The kit hesitated, then nodded, trust slowly forming.

“They’ll need names,” Shadowdive said.

Lynxdawn smiled, gesturing to each in turn. “You’ll be Sandkit,” she said, nodding to the sandy-colored molly, who beamed and repeated her name with a delighted cheer. “And you’ll be Kelpkit.” She touched her nose to the gray tabby. “You’ll be Coralkit,” she said to the fluffy gray molly. “And you’ll be Dropletkit,” she finished, pointing to the brown tabby.

The clan chuckled as Sandkit bounded around, chanting her name. Lynxdawn’s chest tightened, her grief for the mother momentarily eased by the sight of new life among them.

It was nearly nightfall when Wolfstar and Shadowdive returned from the burial. They had taken their time deciding where the unnamed molly should be laid to rest. Eventually, they settled on the cliffs east of the camp and south of the twoleg nest, where the ground overlooked the vast, churning sea.

“Funny how the first burial of our clan isn’t even one of our members.” Shadowdive said, his voice quiet and reflective as they neared camp.

Wolfstar let her tail brush against his flank as she passed him. “Funny isn’t the word I’d use,” she murmured, a teasing lilt softening her tone.

He snorted lightly and nipped playfully at her tail, earning a surprised yelp. She swatted him gently in return. The clearing lay still before them, the rest of the clan already tucked away for the night.

Their laughter mingled in the quiet, and they walked shoulder to shoulder, their shared warmth a comfort against the cool breeze. Shadowdive pressed his head against hers, his touch fond and familiar. “So, do you want me to join your nest tonight?” he asked softly.

“That’d be nice,” she purred.

“Careful, the clan might start to suspect something’s going on between you two,” Lynxdawn’s voice cut through the moment, light and teasing. She approached with a playful smirk, her paw steps lighter than they’d been in days.

Wolfstar pulled back, glancing over at her cleric with an amused flick of her ears. “Not the worst thing that could happen,” she replied, nudging Shadowdive’s side.

He smiled, his green eyes fixed solely on her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Wolfstar purred again.

Lynxdawn coughed awkwardly, breaking the moment. “If you’re done, can I have a moment with Wolfstar?”

Shadowdive nodded once, glancing between the two before striding off toward the leader’s den. With his departure, the air between Lynxdawn and Wolfstar shifted, growing heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Lynxdawn motioned toward her den, waiting until they were both seated before she spoke. “I, uh, well, Mallowstripe saved you some dinner. Roasted fish wrapped in seaweed. I kept it warm here for you.” She nodded toward a lidded pot resting on dying embers.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” Wolfstar’s smile was genuine but tinged with curiosity. She didn’t move for the pot, clearly waiting for what Lynxdawn truly wanted to say.

“How was the burial?” Lynxdawn asked after a moment’s hesitation.

“It was… strange,” Wolfstar admitted, her gaze drifting. “I’ve never buried anyone before. I’ve shared tongues with a fallen clanmate once, but this felt different.” Her voice grew quieter, thoughtful. “We buried her on the eastern cliffs overlooking the ocean. It’s a peaceful spot—a good place for the clan’s fallen.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.” Lynxdawn chuckled nervously. “I guess I never thought about a clan graveyard before.”

Wolfstar stayed quiet, her sharp eyes fixed on her paws, waiting patiently.

Lynxdawn cleared her throat again, forcing the words out. “The kits asked where their mom was a few times. I told them she couldn’t stay. That seemed to help.”

“They’re young. It’s hard to explain,” Wolfstar agreed, nodding slowly.

“I get it,” Lynxdawn whispered.

Wolfstar’s head tilted, her eyes snapping up to meet Lynxdawn’s. “What?”

“I… I get it,” Lynxdawn repeated, her voice steady though her gaze wavered. “You know? I get why you didn’t tell me.” She swallowed hard, her throat tight. “I can’t bear the thought of telling those kits their mom is dead and never coming back.”

Wolfstar’s breath hitched, but she said nothing, letting Lynxdawn find her words.

“I can’t imagine how hard it was for you,” Lynxdawn continued, her voice cracking. “Alone and barely a -paw. I get why you didn’t tell me. I mean, I can barely lie to them, and what you kept secret was way worse.”

“It was… tough,” Wolfstar admitted, her voice low. “But it’s not an excuse. I should’ve told you when you were old enough to understand, but…” She sighed deeply. “Shit, it snowballed out of control.”

Wolfstar reached out, placing a paw gently over Lynxdawn’s. They leaned in, pressing their foreheads together in a moment of quiet understanding.

“No… it’s not,” Lynxdawn murmured. “But I understand better now. And I forgive you. Like, really, truly.” A few tears slipped down her cheeks, but her voice held steady.

They stayed like that for a while, swaying gently together, their shared purring a soft counterpoint to their unspoken grief.

Finally, Wolfstar leaned back, her eyes warm. “Come on. How about you join me and Shadowdive for a late meal?”

Lynxdawn smiled, a genuine, wide smile, but shook her head. “I’d love to, but I have a nest of kits in the nursery waiting for me.” She laughed softly, her heart a little lighter.

Cat Allegiances:

Wolfstar- 19 moons. Leader. Responsible. Compassionate. Natural intuition. Apprentice- Ripplepaw.

Lynxdawn- 14 moons. Lead Cleric. Thoughtful. Loving. Good teacher.

Snowspeckle- 30 moons. Deputy. Artisan. Loving. Playful. Good singer.

Nightleap- 34 moons. Warrior. Insecure. Sneaky. Incredible runner.

Mallowstripe- 20 moons. Camp keeper. Nervous. Careful. Strange dreamer.

Fennelheart- 19 moons. Warrior. Charismatic. Playful. Good hunter. Conditions: frost bitten tail. Green cough.

Shadowdive- 18 moons. Warrior. Blood thirsty. Loyal. Good swimmer. Apprentice- Otterpaw.

Ripplekit→Ripplepaw - 6 moons. Warrior apprentice. Bossy. Fearless. Never sits still. Mentor- Wolfstar.

Otterkit→Otterpaw - 6 moons. Warrior apprentice. Attention seeker. Bouncy. Splashes in puddles. Mentor- Shadowdive.

Dropletkit- 1 moon. Skittish. Shy. Interested in clan history.

Kelpkit- 1 moon. Charming. Quiet. Plays in mud.

Coralkit- 1 moon. Noisy. Bossy. Never sits still.

Sandkit- 1 moon. Impulsive. Noisy. Moss ball hunter.

Next

Prev

Moon 0

[valleyclan-gen]

MOON ZERO

The Story of a Falling Star

“Please, gather ‘round, dear travelers,” Honeyspark purred, taking his stage on the fallen tree in the center of camp. His white patches glowed nearly as orange as the rest of him, illuminated by the campfire below. “Scoot in tight now, watch for tails and tots.”

Beside him Daystar stood tall, her gilded eyes watching over the camp with rigid precaution. It’s not every day that this many strange cats visit them, and although WanderingClan had been a welcome guest to these valleys for many generations, their return always brought about a certain… tension.

Like where the muddy spring creek water meets the glacial rivers, there was a clear separation of the two clans, however friendly. Valleyclan sat together around the fire below, surrounded in every direction by a sea of strange smelling cats. Unlike them, the travelers were practically naked, rarely adorning themselves with soot or bone. Many of them were terrified of the camp’s many flames, having never seen domesticated fire before. They held little understanding or use for tools or baskets, as they couldn’t carry those things with them on their long journeys. And yet despite their apparent simplicity, they arrived with twice as many members than last newleaf. A good sign for WanderingClan, surely, but nonetheless distressing for the hosting leader of Valleyclan. Feeding their guest's kits and elders alone had taken nearly half of their preserved prey. More fresh kill would need processing for bareleaf now. Daystar made a mental note to tell Scrubshade to assign more hunters to next morning patrol.

“I’ve waited for moons to be able to tell this story again. I see many new muzzles here who perhaps haven’t heard it yet. I am honored to be the storyteller to bring this history to you.” Despite their differences, all cats listened with perked ears to Honeyspark begin his story. He cleared his throat. “This is the story of Fallenstar, founder, guide and clan mentor. May his light find us all.”

In the center of the crowd the Valleyclan cats echoed Honeyspark, “May his light find us all.” Many of the visitors looked around in silent bewilderment, tails tucked tightly around themselves.

“It was the harshest seasons the clan had ever faced,” he mewed. “Our leader at the time, Troutstar, was in a perilous situation. The greenleaf sun was harsh, baking the fields and setting fires that drove out cats and prey alike. Smoke turned the skies orange, and hid the night stars. Many elders passed of lung infections from the dirty air, and no medicines grew to treat them. That leafbare was no better, brutal and unforgiving. Kits froze in their nests, and the rivers turned solid. Troutstar believed he had done something to anger the ancestors, and begged them to end their excessive cruelty. Instead, they led his only kit into the teeth of a two-leg trap meant for bears.” Anxious murmurs drifted over the crowd. Nodding, Honeyspark continued, “The teeth were so strong that they didn’t trap her, but ate her paw whole. She barely survived, and was later named Oddpaw.” Somewhere a kit wailed, and a queen soothed it.

“One night Troutstar was visited in a dream by the ancestors. They gave him a warning. There was a cat coming, ordained by the stars, to take Troutstar’s final life. They were to become the new leader of what remained of the once thriving clan, leading them back into safety and prosperity. The ancestors warned him, no matter what actions he took, there would only be one outcome. He was to die.”

“Kits, Honeyspark. Kits,” hissed Daystar under her breath. The medicine cat gave an annoyed flick of his ear as acknowledgment.

“Troutstar waited for a sign from the ancestors, meeting with each remaining clanmate to see if they sparked any interest to the spirits as the new successor. One by one he interviewed them, waiting a night between each to see if the ancestors would gift him another dream. Finally he sat with the last cat, his daughter Oddpaw, lamenting his prophecy. Although he was on his last life, he was young, and planned to cherish every moment of it with his loved ones. To leave them in the paws of a stranger felt like an impossible ask. Yet Starclan still had yet to give him a sign for any of his own clan or kin. Just then, as the pair sat at the entrance of their den, the night sky lit up with all the colors of life.”

Grabbing a sachet from his hip, the spotted tom threw it into the fire below. It erupted into a beautiful rainbow of sparks and flames, sending small sparkling embers high into the sky above them all. Kits and warriors alike chirped and cheered at the dazzling display.

“Scrambling to their paws, they ran out to see what the whole camp saw. A star, falling right out of the sky.” The stars behind Honeyspark were twinkling in full force now. The ancestors were listening.

“They watched as the star shot straight at them, getting bigger and bigger until some cats swore they could see the star itself. Until….” With a flick of his tail, he queued Crowflame and Bonepaw from where they sat in the trees, high on the hillside behind the gathering. Together they tipped their heavily laden baskets of stones onto the rocky cliffs below, creating thunderous echoing booms that sent shock waves through the paws of their nearby guests. “CRASH!” yowled Honeyspark. The visiting cats pinned their ears, apprentices puffing up like kits. “The star slammed right into the top of this very mountain!”

“Did it hit the clan?” It was a Valleyclan kit who interrupted first, followed by concerned mews of agreement from the others.

Honeyspark’s eyes glittered, looking up at the top of the mountain as if it were his own memory he was sharing, despite it being a very old story. “No, it didn’t hit Troutstar or the other cats. But it did spark a fire. In the middle of the snowy mountain top, all the cats ran to see that a lone pine tree was struck by the shooting star, catching the roots at its core on fire. At first the cats thought they should run from it, but Oddpaw saw something the others didn’t. Daring to get close, she saw a cat at the base of the tree, fur scorched and whiskers melted. She tried to pull him from the flames, but it was too dangerous, singeing her muzzle.

Looking from his daughter to the cat that fell from the heavens, Troutstar knew what he must do. Without saying goodbye, knowing his daughter may try to stop him, he used his last life to rescue the cat from the fire and was the first of us to use the Ancestral Fire’s flames to cross over. Now he’s there,” Honeyspark pointed with his tail to a star that hovered just above the mountain’s peak, “watching over us with the ancestors.”

Looking over the crowd, Honeyspark finished his story with his head held high. “And that is how Valleyclan was blessed with Fallenstar, our savior. After being treated, Fallenstar awoke and told the clan of his journey from Starclan to get to them. He was the only cat to ever return from the other side, and brought us back the wisdom we needed to thrive both here and in the afterlife.”

“Is Fallenstar still alive? Can I meet him?” A visiting kit mewed.

“Who was deputy after Troutstar? Did Oddpaw help?”

“But why do you guys wear bones?”

“Is that why you have fires in your camp?”

The questions poured in all at once.

“Now, now,” Daystar stepped in, cutting Honeyspark off from another series of long stories. “There’s a lot of history between then and now. No, Fallenstar is no longer with us. But his bloodline lives on. I am his kin, as my future kits will be, and we carry on his teachings and wisdom with each generation."

"I’m afraid some things are private, only kits from our clan need to worry about things like the Ancestral Fire or Fallenstar's blessings. For tonight’s purposes, I encourage our guests to take from this story only a sense of our pride in Valleyclan’s history. As for our own kits,” Daystar looked to the wide-eyed bundles of fur beside Burnpelt, Brightkit, Moonkit, Flintkit and Emberkit, “Your questions will be answered by your mentors, when you’re ready.”

The cats settled in for the night, sharing tongues and stories. Some Valleyclan cats were eager to be rid of their unusual guests and get back to their daily lives, but others stayed up late into the night, knowing the Wanderingclan cats would have to continue their journey in the morning.

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 73, Part 2

Downstar and Weedfoot are ambushed by… something.

[Image ID: Downstar overlooks a crowd that includes Oilstripe, Lavendertwist, Rabbitjoy, and Paleseed on the left, James, Carnationspeckle, Waspdawn, and Puddlewhisper on the right. Under all but Downstar, it reads + CONDITION: GRIEVING. Under Downstar, it says LIVES LEFT: 3.]

Weedfoot woke up with a sudden, violent gasp. Her memory flashed, blood spasming to catch up to the present. Phantom pain pressed her into the moist grass. Breathe, breathe, breathe. No, not just that, move. Where was Downstar? She had been right next to Weedfoot, the two on their first patrol alone in ages, a flash to the earliest days of RippleClan… where had she gone? What had happened?

The creature. Weedfoot remembered it now. It had come out of nowhere. It was no dog, no wolf or bear or human. Something… thin, hollow, and hungry. Weedfoot grit her teeth so tight she thought her fangs would pierce into her brain. She forced herself up, the memories of claw and tooth sharp against her pelt. 

Weedfoot wanted to be sick. All she saw was blood on the grass, vibrant green turned dull purple in the late evening glow. It splattered along the tall pine trunks and pooled under Weedfoot. The stench of innards and exposed muscle twisted her stomach. But the worst part of it all was Downstar, laying with her back against an oak tree, battle wounds covering her bicolored pelt and a large chunk of flesh missing from her stomach.

“Downstar!” Weedfoot whined, scrambling to her friend and leader. Downstar’s chest shivered slightly. Her paws twitched. Her half-open amber eyes stared hazily at the horrific scene around her. Weedfoot skidded in front of Downstar, keeping her eyes away from her awful wound. Had she already lost a life? If she hadn’t, she was close. But she had five to spare, Weedfoot could get her to the clerics. She would be fine. Yet could she move Downstar with a wound of that severity? 

“I’m here, Downstar,” Weedfoot moaned, setting her paw against Downstar’s bloodied shoulder.

Her paw phased through Downstar’s body.

“She’s already lost one life. It’ll take another before we can heal her, and she’ll still be in danger.” That voice. Weedfoot squeezed her eyes tight, trying to fight back the wave of misery and hopelessness that flooded her face. Weedfoot heard that voice whenever her daughter shot out a clever remark or insightful comment. She heard it in her memories, both good and bad.

Puddlespeckle and Applepelt’s spirits stood beside Downstar’s dying form, pelts sparkling and shining onto her bloodstained fur. Weedfoot wasn’t sure she had ever seen her father look so young. She named Puddlewhisper right; she looked just like her grandfather. It had been so long, Weedfoot had almost forgotten the resemblance.

“Not now,” Weedfoot moaned, her whole body shaking in a decisive no. “Please, not yet, Father. Lightningkit and Cobaltkit are still in the nursery. Waspdawn just lost Littlekit, he’s been so strong, he can’t lose me too.”

“Weedfoot,” Applepelt warned, “as someone who cares about you, I’m telling you now, do not look at your body. You don’t deserve to remember yourself like that.” They walked around Weedfoot, pushing her head forward as it instinctually looked back. Weedfoot only caught a glimpse of her own bloody paw, claws splayed out in the heat of battle.

“Applepelt is here to take you to StarClan,” Puddlespeckle explained. “I… wanted to come with for this.” For a moment that disgusted Weedfoot as soon as it passed, excitement sparked through her chest. She would see Ripplefern again. Fennelspot and Burdockstream, Lavenderleaf, Wasppaw, Paleshade… but she would leave so many behind. The dozen different emotions battling for control in her chest fused together into a single clear thought.

Downstar needed help.

“I’ll go,” Weedfoot choked out, backing up, “but not before I save my friend!” She shut her eyes as she spun around Applepelt and ran in the direction of camp. She knew if she saw herself, she would lack the strength to do what needed to be done. She was still RippleClan’s deputy, and she would do her job!

“Let her go, Puddlespeckle,” she heard Applepelt snap behind her. “This will be better.”

As Weedfoot ran home, she noticed a strength in her muscles that had, day by day, left her in recent moons. She felt like she could run across all five Clans without so much as a single pant. Even her fur, translucent as she now saw it to be, looked brighter than it had since Scaleripple’s birth. The world, settling down into a cool summer night, was more alive than ever before. And all Weedfoot had to do to see that was die.

“Oilstripe!” she yowled, voice catching against the trees. “Oilstripe!” She had always wondered what it was like for her former apprentice to see the spirits of StarClan as they roamed their old home. How she hated to be one of them that day.

Weedfoot could see the shipwreck now. The decaying wood looked golden in the setting sun, with huge shadows of spruces, elders, and rowans dappling the rocky walls of camp. Puddlespeckle and Applepelt had somehow beaten Weedfoot to camp, but they sat on the Resting Place, watching quietly. Leathermask sat guard outside of camp, unflinching to Weedfoot’s call. Weedfoot slowed at the crest of the trees when Oilstripe hurried out of camp, wild eyes meeting Weedfoot’s. Weedfoot’s soul broke just a bit more; how often did Oilstripe have to learn of a Clanmate’s death in such a way? If there had been any better option, Weedfoot would have spared her dear friend the pain. But instead she squared her shoulders as Oilstripe bolted at her.

“No no no,” Oilstripe cried as she reached her old mentor, legs weakening with every frantic step.

“Stop,” Weedfoot barked. Oilstripe gasped, paws digging into the sand and dirt. “Oilstripe, I’m sorry, but you need to listen to me right now. You can’t save me, but you can save Downstar.”

“How—” Oilstripe whined. She panted so hard, she could barely speak.

“Just listen, please,” Weedfoot begged. “I need you to find Spikecrash, Rapidleaf, and Honeybuzz. It has to be Honeybuzz, not Troutpool, do you understand? I know your daughter, she won’t be able to focus on Downstar. Get those three cats and have them bring a long pelt and whatever medicine Honeybuzz needs to treat a gaping wound. Only bring those three, nod if you understand.” Oilstripe swallowed hard, but nodded. “Do not let anyone else come with you, especially not my family. Have the patrol follow you, and I’ll lead you to Downstar. Oilstripe, when I tell you to stop, you stop. Don’t go any further, just send the patrol forward and tell them to cover my body. Don’t look at me, I am begging you, Oilstripe, do not look. Do you understand?” Oilstripe nodded once more, paws twitching, ready to run. “Now go!” Oilstripe was off like lightning, scrambling back into camp with a yowl. Leathermask jumped as she soared past him. He followed the heartbroken molly back into camp.

Applepelt and Puddlespeckle were silent witnesses as Weedfoot led her Clan to Downstar’s rescue. She could see them, sitting, watching, waiting for Weedfoot to acknowledge them once more as she made sure Honeybuzz could save Downstar’s remaining lives. Weedfoot ignored her father as Oilstripe begged Weedfoot for answers that she could not provide. She stayed silent as Rapidleaf and Honeybuzz hurried Downstar to camp. She watched over RippleClan’s camp as one by one, everyone she cared for crumbled under the news.

As midnight crept closer, Weedfoot found herself tucked into the shadows of the medicine den, staring at Honeybuzz, Troutpool, and Weevilpaw as they sat around Downstar. Bandages wrapped around Downstar’s belly, clean moss stuffed into the healing wound. Cobwebs concealed Downstar’s smaller scars, turning her calico. Weedfoot stared into her dear friend’s tired eyes and prayed once more that she could offer some comfort. Firelight dapped the den floor.

“If you don’t rest, you’ll lose three lives rather than two,” Honeybuzz muttered, testing the tightness of Downstar’s bandages. 

“Regardless, I need to gather the Clan,” Downstar sighed. “They need to hear from me before midnight.”

“That won’t be hard,” Weevilpaw gulped, glancing out of the den. “I don’t think anyone’s asleep tonight.”

“I promise, Downstar,” Troutpool said, touching her leader’s nose, “we’ll try a few rituals to figure out what attacked you. As soon as the half-moon comes around again, we’ll petition StarClan for more information.”

“Help me to the edge of the den,” Downstar said softly. “Weevilpaw… call the Clan for me.” Weevilpaw stiffened, nodding solemnly. Honeybuzz and Troutpool got on either side of Downstar, trying to scoop her nest with her. With Downstar providing what strength she still possessed, the three inched the tortoiseshell leader close to the entrance of the medicine den. 

“Downstar’s calling a Clan meeting,” Weevilpaw called hesitantly into the camp clearing. “Over here.” All of RippleClan sat before the shipwreck, sharing tongues and caterwauls. There was no body to sit vigil for; the look in Spikecrash’s eyes when she insisted on immediate burial silenced even the most curious of cats. Weedfoot’s family all sat together, piled on one another in shared misery. James was almost hidden under his sons and daughters. Even Scaleripple joined in, hiding his head in Waspdawn’s pelt. Lightningkit, Cobaltkit, and Waspdawn’s litter snuggled in where they could, their youth providing no hiding place for their grief. Stormkit, Yellowkit, and Sandkit seemed so… hollow. Oh why did Weedfoot have to be the one to bring such despair to their eyes? When did her family get so, so big?

All of RippleClan slowly made their way around the medicine den. Weedfoot sat beside Downstar, midnight cold sinking through her ghostly fur with every stare that passed through her. Oilstripe could not look away from her, gathered tightly beside Carnationspeckle, Rattlepelt, Tallowpaw, and Slushpaw. It was all Weedfoot could do to nod at her old beloved apprentice.

“What happened, Downstar?” James asked. Weedfoot had never heard such monotone from her mate before. 

“I wish I could explain it,” Downstar sighed, groaning as she shifted to look over her Clan. “My memory is foggy. I barely saw it coming. Whatever attacked us did so with brutal efficiency.”

“Was it another Clan?” Paleseed whined. “Downstar, what did they do to my mother?” Downstar flinched at Paleseed’s cry. Darkkick crept from the back of the crowd, and Paleseed pressed her head into the older molly’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to scare you,” Downstar said. “However… from what I remember, I don’t believe what attacked us was any living creature.”

“A Spirit of Shadow,” Trumpetspore yowled from somewhere in the back of the crowd. “It was a Spirit of Shadow! Not again! Not again!” Trumpetspore’s panic swept through the crowd. Estherfern’s kits seemed half their age as they pressed into their mother, whimpering. Currentpaw wailed as Elmsprout wrapped her tail over him. Rattlepelt slunk behind Carnationspeckle. 

“Please, everyone, we can’t panic,” Downstar called. She groaned as her stomach twitched, strained from the effort of yowling. “There’s a lot we don’t know about what happened, or why. We’ll take every precaution when leaving camp until we have this situation sorted. I will not abandon you. StarClan will not abandon us. We will figure out what happened, drive out this threat, and recover, as we always do.” The cooler heads in the crowd groomed the fur of their terrified kin. The Clan’s voices died down as Downstar took a few slow breaths.

“This Clan would not exist without Weedfoot,” Downstar sighed. “She and Paleshade were the spark that gave us life. When we formed RippleClan, we all wanted her to be our leader. She would have led us well. But she asked me to take my nine lives instead so she could grieve for her first mate and find her footing once again. I regret all the times my mind turned my heart against her, and I will always see her as my sister. It will be many moons before another deputy can match her in skill and wisdom.” Had Downstar always thought that of Weedfoot? Some moons it felt like the pair were always disagreeing on how to run the Clan. But that wasn’t the truth of their relationship, was it? “Despite that, we need a new deputy.”

“We’ve never had to do this before,” Carnationspeckle muttered. “We don’t have to follow the traditions of the other Clans. We can pick a new deputy in the morning, Downstar. It… it might be better.”

“I don’t want to wait long,” Downstar said, glancing at her wound. “I’ll be recovering for the rest of the moon, and the Gathering is in two nights. We need a deputy. And I know who I want at my side.” Downstar cleared her throat. “I say these words before StarClan, so that Weedfoot’s spirit may hear my words and approve my choice. The next deputy of RippleClan will be Oilstripe.” Weedfoot rose, the weight in her heart relaxing ever so slightly. Oilstripe stayed sitting, blinking rapidly.

“But…” Oilstripe gulped. “You don’t like me. You never have.”

“There’s a lot that we disagree on,” Downstar admitted, bowing her head. “Yet your intelligence and compassion have won you many friends. You are a major part of this Clan, and I trust you to lead it when I’m gone.” Oilstripe stared at Weedfoot, mouth half open in utter surprise.

“She’s right,” Weedfoot purred. She stood in front of Oilstripe, the soft glow of her transparent body shining against Oilstripe’s ginger fur. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to follow in my pawsteps.” Sparkling light danced behind Oilstripe. Puddlespeckle and Applepelt waited at the edge of camp, sitting patiently. Weedfoot blinked and found herself standing beside the pair just as the Clan began to chant Oilstripe’s name.

“Let’s make this official,” Applepelt chirped. She touched her nose to Weedfoot’s. Warmth flooded Weedfoot. Her pelt exploded in white light. Stardust sprinkled her body in vibrant patterns. Her blue eyes burned bright. Suddenly, she knew. She knew what happened to her. She knew what attacked her, where it came from, and what lurked over RippleClan’s head.

“We have to tell them,” Weedfoot said, turning back to her family.

“You can’t,” Puddlespeckle said softly. Just as quickly as the future unraveled before her, so too did Puddlespeckle’s meaning. She couldn’t. She literally, physically, could not tell them.

“Will they be alright?” Weedfoot gulped, forcing herself to look away.

“Life goes on,” Puddlespeckle promised. He gently nosed Weedfoot’s forehead. “You were a good daughter to have, Weedfoot. Now come along. It’s time to go.”

(Weedfoot: 122, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(Downstar: 132, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Puddlespeckle: 156, male, elder, strict, good hunter, good kitsitter)

(Applepelt: 31, she/they, historian, rebellious, lore keeper)

(Oilstripe: 77, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(James: 149, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Paleseed: 39, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

(Trumpetspore: 34, female, warrior, nervous, excellent potter, good storyteller)

[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Downstar speak with Weevilpaw, Anchovypaw, and Wolfpaw. Honeybuzz says "We call it the Rule of Three. When times of intense peril approach the Clans, it is said the All-Seeing pulls water from the river of space and time and blesses three kits. It explains everything.”]

---

“Anchovy! Anchovypaw, wake up.” Anchovypaw opened his eye half-way. Weevilpaw stared at him, nose inches from his face. He smacked her muzzle back with a groan.

“I’m tired, Weevilpaw,” he groaned, rolling over. “Can we do this later?”

“Downstar wants to talk to us,” Weevilpaw whispered. “She’s with Honeybuzz. Come on, it’s important!” Anchovypaw dragged his head up. Wolfpaw was already awake, fidgeting outside the apprentice’s den. The crest of the sun peeked over the sea, turning the sky purple. The sleeping forms of the other apprentices rose and fell with the soft pattern of the waves. Anchovypaw groaned as he got out of his cozy nest, warm from his body heat, and snuck around Billowpaw and Ravenpaw. Weevilpaw jumped over Silverpaw and followed her friend out.

It was the morning after the Gathering, and everyone was exhausted. Halibutdusk limped back to the warrior’s den, finally relieved from guard duty as Oilstripe guided Clammask and Drumtooth out on patrol. The purple light of the early dawn unnerved Anchovypaw that morning, even though he had seen that sunrise a hundred times. Weevilpaw led him and Wolfpaw across camp to the leader’s den. Anchovypaw could see Downstar’s eyes gleaming from inside her sheltered nest. Honeybuzz sat beside her, fiddling with a cicada wing under his paw. While the bandages around Downstar’s torso were no longer so blood-stained, black ichor still stained them like a hole in the world. Anchovypaw focused on his leader’s face instead.

“What’s wrong?” Wolfpaw asked.

“I spoke with the other clerics last night,” Honeybuzz explained, waving the trio closer. “I may have an explanation for your abilities.”

“Finally,” Weevilpaw groaned, kneading the leather-lined floor. “I knew we weren’t the first. I just knew it. Why else would there be so many stories of powerful cats?”

“There’s a reason those cats come in threes,” Honeybuzz sighed. Anchovypaw moved closer, almost forgetting to breathe. “We call it the Rule of Three. When times of intense peril approach the Clans, it is said the All-Seeing pulls water from the river of space and time and blesses three kits. It explains everything.”

“Intense peril?” Anchovypaw said, no longer able to keep his gaze from Downstar’s wound. “Like now?”

“We’ve come across two Spirits of Shadow in the span of three moons,” Downstar sighed. “Think about your powers. They are designed in just such a way to prove effective against spirits and their powers. You see their influence. You predict their moves. You can even trap them in place.” Downstar pulled a paw over her muzzle. 

“I don’t like using apprentices in this way, but I need all three of you on alert and ready to help. You may be all that stands between our safety and another of our kin leaving us, just like Weedfoot did.”

(Weevilpaw: 8, female, cleric apprentive, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Anchovypaw: 8, male, warrior apprentice, playful, curious about StarClan)

(Wolfpaw: 8, female, codekeeper apprentice, thoughtful, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Honeybuzz: 21, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith)

(Downstar: 132, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

[cozzzynook]

Turbo Fox Preceptor and Roddy Idea but with Angst

Preceptor ran as fast as his paws could carry him, dodging and weaving through twisted branches and traps set by the Enforces who were hunting him. A sharp jolt of pain shot through the red turbo fox causing him to lose his footing making him stumble and fall, his helm had barely stopped spinning before a net was thrown over him trapping the turbo fox. The Enforces laughed mocking him before they roughly shoved the carrying fox into a small cage before taking him to a dark strange van.

Hours passed before Percy was able to see a slither of light again, with a low growl as he snapped at the strange bots who picked up his cage before moving him into a strange looking kennel. Percy crept slowly into the cold cell sniffing the air before flopping into make shift nest, the pain only grew worse with each passing moment. This is not how Percy wanted to his pups to see the world...they should have been safe inside a warm den not a freezing prison. A soft little cry followed by gentle nuzzling broke Percy out of his trance, with gentle licks the red turbo fox carefully cleaned his tiny red and gold pup who was slowly crawling towards his carrier's belly seeking warmth. Preceptor gazed lovely at his pup feeling pride fill his spark as he carefully coiled himself around the tiny frame. "I promise you, I'll find a way out for us my little fire" Percy whispered before drifting off to sleep.

A month passes before Preceptor is able to find a possible way out. He has memorised the patrol pattens of the guards who come by every morning and evening to drop off rations before heading into their office to watch the cameras. If he is able to grab the keys and slip by the cameras with Hot Rod it will be a clean break. Meanwhile Roddy is busy chewing a hole into his new bedding unaware of his carrier's scheming, "Carrier, I'm bored...Isn't there anything better to do than stare at the same 4 walls all day?" The little pup trotted up to sit next to his Carrier fuzz still coating his muzzle. With a soft smile and a gentle lick the red fox gave a sigh before wrapping his tail around his bitty. "Hopefully you'll get to see the sun soon my little fire...soon I promise" Percy glanced back at the main door before nudging his bitty to take a nap.

It was late into the night when Preceptor had carefully unlocked the door, a quick glance down the halls making sure the coast was clear before he carefully picked up Roddy by his scruff. Quickly and quietly he trotted down the hall before slipping into one of the air vents that lead to the outside. Everything was going well until the sound of angry voices and footsteps grew closer, with a panicked yelp Percy dropped Hot Rod before nudging the bitty to run towards a dark alleyway "Run Hot Rod! Don't look back and keep going!" With a whimper the little pup ran as fast as his paws could go. Halfway Roddy suddenly heard a loud bang followed by a sharp cry that sounded like his carrier, with shut optics he ran faster before diving behind some boxes in the alley. Hot Rod sat hidden waiting, hope and wishing his Carrier would come looking...but he never did. With a tired sigh the young fox crept out of hiding spot and began trotting down the streets unsure where he was going, he kept walking until he bumped into the legs of a gruff looking mech with teal blue paint. "Well ain't you a little young to be away from your pack kid?" The old mech grumbled as he kneeled down to look the turbo fox in the optic. Roddy gave a whimper before shaking his head, the old mech sighed before petting the pup's helm "I see, Don't worry kid...old Kup will look after yer now" The mech smiled before scouping the pup in his arms "You got a name kid?" Roddy gave small smile before wagging his tail before answering "Hot Rod" The gruff mech smiled as they walked further down the street towards some apartments. "Well Hot Rod, welcome to the wreckers kid...we'll make sure yer well taken care of now"

(Hope you enjoyed, I wanted to give a bittersweet ending with a twist on how Roddy became a wrecker in this little AU) :D

Krilslfj 😭😭😭😭

[fountainpenguin]

I know realistically Kevin and Dale would never talk to each because of age difference, class difference, Dale's trust issues etc.

But you can't write two socially inept boys with a passion for robotics and not have them interreact once!

Rip. They could have been besties. Maybe in another life.

I have been THINKING SO HARD on Kevin since I realized Dale is into robotics too- I didn't expect canon would just give me a robotics expert back when I tossed Kevin into that role due to cyborg obsession!

My current Cloudlands AU canon is still set up for Kevin designing the robot babysitters we see in "Channel Chasers" (Maybe Vicky bought one and customized it? Unclear)... I'm not sure if that will stay, but I feel like Dale wouldn't be happy about the Vicky design, sldkfj...

I'm not emotionally attached to the "Channel Chasers" future and I wasn't looking forward to rushing the city to be high-tech in 20 years, so if New Wish can ignore flying cars and stuff, I might too. We'll see...

Anyway, Kevin is practically the only kid in the OG series who told us what he wanted to be when he grew up and it was a dentist... and Dale has teeth issues and also likes robots... Hm. Inch resting.

I mean, Kevin IS a Buxaplenty in my lore...

... it's not out of the question for him to toy more with that side of his heritage as he grows older and closer to Remy...

POV: You're Dale sent to meet a Buxaplenty at a convention:

One of my favorite jokes in Cloudlands AU is that Kevin - an estranged Buxaplenty-Crocker child with witch magic that forces him to see ghosts under specific circumstances - has bizarre relationships with random people, but won't elaborate...

Ex: His job shadow with the Grim Reaper (x), his stepfamily (x) who are definitely not vampires (x), Jimmy Neutron's son despite him not being born at that point in the 2D World timeline (x), he's gotten an email from Danny Phantom (x), the Crocker house talks to him (x), he watches soap operas with his uncle's ex (who is a cat) (x), he knows the Burger World Employee & Bob the Boil & Mikey Munroe through Club Redheads Who Didn't Get Mindwiped (x), he's Foop's foster dad (x), he's caretaker for his undead great-uncle who was reborn as an iguana (x), he's still "alive" 150k years in the future (after he's reborn as a crow) and has met people in Foop's teen friend group (x), he lived beneath the same roof as Anti-Sanderson (x)... List goes on. I also like to think he's met Dark Laser's son. Kevin is the only one who ever knows what's going on with his life.

Canonically in my lore, Kevin has laid eyes on Rudy Tabootie from ChalkZone, Diego and Baby Jaguar from Go Diego Go, Chase from Paw Patrol, and he's spoken to Zac from Shimmer and Shine because they were all at the interdimensional Nick show pizza parlor.

It is not out of the question for Kevin to be familiar with Dale, because Dimmadelphia is heavily implied to be a tech empire (Robotics community is big there), they might've attended the same fancy tech university for a year or two, and it totally fits Kevin's gag. It's the Crocker curse of getting in everyone's way...

I'mma be honest, I think Kevin is Dale's type (Struggling under the weight of the world, daddy / mommy / step-daddy / uncle issues, the town has come to expect A Vibe from his family, is "extra" when the setting calls for it, builds awesome robots, makes money in a stable career)... Dale's type is "As easy to understand and low maintenance as possible; bonus points for same interests."

I think Dale just wants to live by himself tbh. He gets along so well with Hadley because she's very independent, also from a wealthy family (Leadlys), travels a lot, doesn't "need" him, and totally gets his need for personal space and clear instructions on how she wants to celebrate holidays and anniversaries. Hadley tells him exactly what to do and Dale says "Bless this low-brainpower relationship I scored. Whatever you say, girlfriend." They definitely spark each other off sometimes, but they're both good at taking time for themselves (and remember they like existing with each other). I think deep down, Dale is glad to have someone helping him manage his stress and bringing in extra income - plus in City Lights AU, he wants Dev to be his heir and needs a basic "let me show you what Daddy does because this will be you someday" connection to him - so those are the things that stop him from living alone. He gets lonely when Hadley's away, but he also likes fewer distractions and not sharing the bed... They get along fine :)

But Kevin sees way too much of himself in Dale (Big and loud to cover the self-deprecation and anxiety) and he's not into that, so he'd pretend to be oblivious if he ever got hit on.

Kevin's vision of Dale is "only puts in emotional energy when it's convenient." You can pry "I adore you even when you hate yourself and will happily cover extra housework when you're exhausted b/c we're a team" Chloe from Kevin's undead talons <3

City Lights AU Dale would not hit on him because he's Daddy's Good Boy and would probably have an anxiety attack if he had One (1) Fantasy outside his marriage, but y'know... In some other universe, the robot-lovers geek out together. Kevdale tag when?

Alt consideration: Hadley has her QPR with Remy and Dale has one with the Crockermichaels... Crockermichaeldome tag when... Yes, It has to be both of them... Do not separate.

Alt consideration II:

I love the Crockermichaels... I love the Cherrylemons... Please talk to me about them.

Secret Bonus Crockermichael Notes

For anyone unware of the ridiculous size difference between Chloe and Kevin's hands, allow me to enlighten you:

And yes... in the Riddleverse, Chloe and Kevin changed their surnames to Crockermichael when they got married. They miss each other when they blink <3

Bonus Pt 2 - Crocker not recognizing grown-up Chloe, but still being nice to her when the employee sends her to ride with him, which is not his usual M.O.... Chloe and her uncle-in-law... They're important to me...

Bonus Pt 3 - Kevin's wedding ring is a tiny dragon!

It's inspired by these drafts I wrote in 2018:

Her fingers skimmed along plastic containers of strawberries, and she picked two up. “Here. One for your place, one for mine.” Kevin eyeballed the price sticker on the sign. “I dunno. They’re out of season. I’ll pass.” Chloe arched her brows. One offended hand flew to her chest. “Sure, it’s a premium price right now, but what could be more rewarding than maintaining a healthy body every month of the year?” “Your engagement ring, I hope.” Chloe considered this, then set one box down. “It better have a strawberry engraved on it.” “Actually, I was thinking I’d get this neat silver one that looks like a little robot wrapped around your finger.”

&

Chloe bounced on her heels. “I look forward to welcoming all aspects of my pregnancy, even the ones which are, tragically, so often seen as negative.” Molly tapped her nails against her mug. “Let me guess. You’ve already got a dozen baby names picked out.” “I am partial to Chloe Junior myself,” she admitted, grinning Kevin’s way. “But Kevin likes Phillip, after the prince from Sleeping Beauty.” “I like dragons,” he called over his hot chocolate. Chloe waved her hand. “I’m not sure about it since it isn’t super gender-neutral. We’re still working things out on that end. Although it would be a very cute name for a girl…” She stared at the loose change in the change jar, lost in thought.

Along the Cherry Lane - WIP

Fun game called "Can you guess which worldbuilding detail Chloe and Kevin don't know about above? :)"

[self-indulgent-paw-patrol]

Every time for a Labrador is bath time!

Second request came from a follower from my Telegram channel! Now this one has a story XD

Under the cut bc it got a bit long

So, for whatever reason, when Paw Patrol was first brought to Brazil, the translation team thought Marshall and Zuma were females. Don't ask me, I have absolutely NO IDEA what made them believe that. So, they translated the dialogues all like that, the voice actors were girls with sweet voices, for all intents and purposes, these two were females. They only seemed to recognize their mistake by the end of second season. I KID YOU NOT THEY SPENT TWO SEASONS LIKE THAT LMAO??? And then they had to redub everything up to that point, having boys voice these two pups now.

Turns out some people who watched the old dub actually liked the idea of Marshall and Zuma being females (I gotta say I agree it literally doesn't make any difference in the show since these pups aren't falling into gender roles stereotypes at all) and hated it when the studio corrected their mistake, to the point they also hate the "new" male voices they got. One of those then requested me to draw them as females because that's how he liked them to be.

It also sparked a lot of protests from conservative families because the sudden "gender swap without any explanation" would confuse and make their little babies question if they could be girls one day and boys the next day. YEAH. I'm still wheezing at this XD

[strelles-universe]

Spark the Light - Chapter 3: The Hunt for the Galespun

Allegiances | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Asterdawn wasted absolutely no time, marching them furiously through the forest and calling for a meeting the second her whiskers crossed the threshold of the gorse tunnel. She was already sitting atop the highrock when the rest of the Kirkyard group slipped in after her, taking grim seats at the base as the those who stayed behind sleepily stumbled into the main clearing, confused but panicked. Obviously they remembered the last time their Storm had called a meeting directly after a meeting had been to announce the ascension of Scornedclaw to leader of the Fennyield and how he’d forced territory from the Shorerisen’s paws. 

“There seems to be trouble brewing with the Shorerisen and the Fennyield,” the molly explained, recapping the entire meeting portion of the Games. 

“But didn’t they back down?” Wolfpaw asked, slightly confused. “The Styrman even apologized.”

“That was the most insincere apology a cat has ever given,” Cardinalfire told the cadet gently, ignoring Urchintail. “He probably only did it to save face given his stand-in lieutenant clearly didn’t agree with his decision.”

“He's right,” said Asterdawn, eyes flicking to him before returning to her seniors. “They were just on opposing sides for most of the meeting but when it was brought up that the Galespun rightfully deserved to be returned to their territory, they each expressed displeasure.”

“Nightrattle I understand,” scowled Callastorm, his long and feathered tail twitching with open agitation. “Though he is more ambitious than I thought when I extended that moon of peace to him.”

“Don't claw yourself,” Asterdawn told him kindly. “It is clear that the Fennyield have grown comfortable with holding more land than they can even patrol. If they wish to take advantage of a deal offered with good intentions, then may the souls judge them accordingly as the ahaliim sets in.”

“But why would the Shorerisen want the Fennyield to keep the uplands?” Nadderpelt inquired, Lynxpaw staring up at her drillmaster. 

“They want them to keep them?” Chaffinchpaw demanded, a tone of confusion entering her voice.

“When Nightrattle mentioned the moor, not once did the Styrman attempt to claim them for his own faction,” Nadderpelt explained. “He just got angry at giving them back.”

“Perhaps he means to take them from Nirghtratthe directly?” Cardinalfire offered. It was a reasonable question after all - he wouldn't personally fight for an enemy to keep a large slab of territory that put them closer to their own border… “if the Fenns keep the upland, their border brushes the Shorerisen. Then they could reasonably dispute the border.”

“That would let them claim whatever they could defend of it,” Nadderpelt agreed. “But that doesn't explain why - the river is the most stable source of prey in the forest. When everyone else starves, the Shores remain strong and plump.”

“...geese,” Quietpaw said, likely pulling from what they'd been told. “Osierstream said she was promoted fighting off a few geese that stuck around.”

“Geese alone shouldn't be enough, we must be missing something,” said Asterdawn before shaking her head, as if to dislodge any thoughts she was still considering. “Well, we can't read the minds of the Shores and we can't prevent the Fenns’ growing greed - all we can do is guard our borders and prepare for the possibility of a Shore-Fenn alliance against us.”

She flicked her tail allowing Callastorm to quickly rattle off, “So Wildheart, Chickadeechitter and Pricklestripe, head out as the moonpeak patrol and mark our border with the Shores. Everyone else, rest up - we’ll have to be on high alert.”

With the meeting clearly over, Cardinalfire didn’t hesitate to follow after Jackdawstripe with a yawn, slinking towards the comforting warmth of his nest. He was asleep almost before the thick-feathering of his larger tail had draped itself comfortingly over his back.

| | | |

He chased the squirrel swiftly, unable to suppress the laughter attempting to bubble up from his chest as he swiped tauntingly at its bushy tail. He wasn’t hungry for once, not really intending to catch anything merely seeking to burn away his additional energy. The squirrel went up a tree at the same time he caught the clear scent of a mouse and he turned on paw, sprinting into the messy fallen leaves with a tom-ish snicker. He caught sight of the little brown rodent, rifling through the leaf litter and branches, launching himself onto the tiny creature’s back.

Just as he released it, intending to start the chase anew with whatever else he could find, his body seized up and a familiar ashen scent filled his nose. 

I’m dreaming, he realized and the brilliant, cloudless blue of the sky immediately flashed blood-orange as a starless night-sky began rapidly crawling above his head, almost like it was devouring the very sun itself somewhere on the horizon. 

The petrification of his dream vanished, invisible shackles dropping at his paws and Cardinalfire took off. His eyes flicked down briefly, his paws flashing between a gentle lilac and his usual ruddy coat. The comforting heat thudded powerfully in his chest to the beat of his heat, like Ashara’s Hearth had taken up a happily humming residence within his lungs. His paws stung lightly with the force of his pawsteps as he cleared the distance between the glade he was in to- to- he wasn’t sure, his paws were tugging him on like they were possessed by an outside spirit of some sort. All he knew was an growing sense of urgency, a distant but painful sense of panic urging him to move faster, move faster, you’re moving too slow-!

He burst from the bushes he doesn’t think he was running through before, chest heaving as he staggered onto the deer-trail with achy paws. He whirled around, searching desperately for whatever it is that had drawn him here, what had called him to the trampled grass but there was nothing.

What’s here? I have to find her- find him? What am I looking for? I’ll deliver this message - what message, what delivery- I-

A sudden shriek of pain erupted, seeming to come from every direction at once at the same time agony exploded through his body. He staggered, collapsing to the ground and tried to pull himself away, crawl away from the strange sourceless pain like claws shredding through his skin.

His paw slapped a pile of ashes, embers raining down around his head not burning his skin but blurring his vision and when he raised his ash-covered paw, he was stricken with horror at the crimson sheen it had taken on.

| | | |

Cardianlfire’s eyes snapped open as he scrambled as quietly into a sitting position as he could, releasing a panicky startled breath. His eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness of the legionary’s den but that was alright, because with ever deep and distressed breath he took in, the calmer her felt. Slowly he was able to make out the shape of various legionaries curled up in their own nests, dreaming peacefully with a few empty - a dawn patrol most likely. There was no blood here, no ashes to smear his fur - there was only the soft snoring of his denmates, the intermingled scents that made up the Stormborn concoction and the tattered remains of his nest scattered beneath his paws.

He took a shaky breath in, sheathing his aching claws back into his paws and started grooming.

There was no way that he would go back to sleep after a dream - a sight - quite as horrible as that one, so he might as well clean away the scents of fear and discomfort drenching his fur, making it stick out in various random directions.

Maybe Spottedholly will have something to help me, he mused. The grooming was already working wonders - with every swipe cleaning away the upset trying to stain itself into his fur, he felt his nerves beginning to settle down. His breathing returned to its normal pattern and when he was finally presentable, besides his thoroughly mangled nest, he’d be surprised if anyone could tell what had  happened.

The growling of his stomach that he’d been ignoring finally coaxed him out of the den and into the steadily cooling sunlight. He squinted at the brightness, blinking furiously as he half-stumbled to the ukennva with awkward steps. He sniffed blearily at the pile, snatching a pair of mice for them to eat together and fumbled the rest of the way to the healer’s den. He did his best to avoid looking too traumatized or ruffled as he peered in. Much to his relief, the healer was already awake and seemed to be getting a head-start on sorting between dried, useless herbs and the dried, ‘can be stored for later’ ones. 

“Spottedholly?” he called out, clearing his throat a little when his voice got stuck.

Her ears perked up and she twisted around to look at him, her expression immediately becoming concerned, “Hey Cardinalfire, it’s early.”

He stalked in, dropping the mouse in front of her and sitting down, “I brought a snack.”

“Cardinalfire, what’s wrong?” she asked gently.

“Ka mamanku,” he murmured, lowering himself into a crouch and took a half-hearted bite from the prey. He shuddered a little - the taste of the blood washing through his mouth bringing his dream back to the forefront of his mind. He gagged a little at the thought while Spottedholly quickly mirrored his pose. “...I… had another Sight. Vision.”

He watched her expression slowly morph from confusion and sympathy at his exhausted state to alarm and concern as he recounted the dream - from the panic, the pain, the ashes turned to blood and how he’d sat in the destroyed remains of his nest before finally making his way to her. She draped her tail over his back while he explained, offering a sympathetic purr when he stuttered in a few places.

“What do I… do?” he asked tiredly at the end.

“What you do is rest,” Spottedholly told him. He gave her a confused expression and she chuckled lowly, passing over one of the piles of herbs she’d been sorting. “You’re here now and you’re safe - with no blood, no fire. You’ve told me about the dream - it seems like someone might get hurt on the deer-trail, so I’ll stock up on herbs and review techniques for handling those injuries.”

“Can’t we stop the accident from happening?” he fretted.

“Maybe and maybe not,” Spottedholly told him, pushing the herbs more insistently to him. “We can warn our cadets, exercise extra caution around the trail and teach cats what to look out for but in the end, all we can do is prepare. You’ve done your part Cardinalfire, now try to get some sleep - a tired legionary can’t prevent anything while he’s tripping over his tail.”

Cardinalfire nodded mutely in acceptance, tiredly chewing through the herbs she’d offered him before pushing himself back to his paws. 

“Your sister mentioned you used to share nests - see Jackdawstripe will share with you,” Spottedholly suggested. “It might help you sleep better to have another body.”

He made a jumbled sound of confirmation and walked back to the legionary’s den - the sun was already starting to climb higher into the sky, it would be a very not-fun battle fixing his sleep-schedule back to being away during the sun-peak period but that wasn’t something he would worry about for now.  He just ducked into the den, opening his mouth to subtly wake Jackdawstripe only to pause.

His best friend was already sitting up in his nest watching him with sad, yellow eyes. The remains of Cardinalfire’s nest were gone, while Jackdawstripe’s seemed to have doubled in size and a Cardinalfire-sized space had been left at the tom’s belly.

“You have nightmares a lot and Asha said sleeping together makes them less intense,” the dark-gray tom admitted. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you but, um…”

Cardinalfire’s eyes stung as he trotted toward the nest and gingerly stepped inside. He turned twice in place before settling down, allowing Jackdawstripe’s massive, fluffy tail to settle over him. The russet tom shuffled backwards, instinctively cuddling into the thick, gray fur and releasing a soft sigh. 

“Are you okay?” Jackdawstripe asked him quietly.

“...I think I am now,” Cardinalfire murmured back sleepily.

“Okay - sweet dreams, Cardinal.”

| | | |

“Cardinalfire? Hey, Cardinalfire.”

“Mm…?” the russet tom grumbled, tugging a paw up to cover his ears.

He heard a little laugh, “I know, I know, you’re tired but Our Storm wants to see us, surindi.”

Cardnalfire groaned and forced his eyes back open, feeling like he’d barely even closed them a moment before. He blinked tiredly at the gray paws filling his vision, a half-eaten squirrel resting between them as he drew his gaze upward to Jackdawstripe’s fond, amused expression. It took another moment for his brain to properly decipher what he’d heard before he sighed and slowly pushed himself back into a sitting position. A yawn broke free from his jaws as he shook his head.

“Surindi?” he said, trying to force the tiredness from his voice as he moved to gulp down the rest of the squirrel.

The thin skin of the larger tom’s ears turned red with obvious embarrassment as he looked away, “Sorry… it slipped out.”

“S’fine, what’s it mean?”

“It’s a name maam calls me sometimes,” Jackdawstripe admitted sheepishly. “It means ‘little bird.’ I can stop.”

“No, it’s okay,” Cardinalfire tells him. “I don’t mind.”

But now I have to come up with a name for him, Cardinalfire told himself. A good name too, something as sweet as ‘little bird.’ He stretched, trying to wake himself up even a little more though given how tired he still felt - this was probably the best he was going to get. He shook out his pelt then quickly licked down the worst of the stray patches to make himself look presentable for his leader. Seeing that Cardinalfire was done with his usual ‘pre-leaving grooming,’ Jackdawstripe led the way from the den.

“Thanks for last night,” Cardinalfire murmured as they stood in front of the entrance to the leader’s den. 

“Don’t worry about it,” the tom said, his ears going red once more. “I used to do the same for Ravencroon… before…”

Cardinalfire licked his shoulder, conveying his sympathy and gratitude in the same motion. He turned and released a soft ‘meow’ into the den, announcing their presence to Asterdawn. There was a brief moment of silence before another echoed back, granting them entry.

Cardinalfire climbed in first without hesitation, used to lounging in the den with his ex-drill master. His paws sank lightly into the thin layer of moss and baby-grass that lined the inside of the log-den, the small bit of dew built up on the blades feeling cool and comforting on his own warm pads. He waited for Jackdawstripe to join him, the larger tom having to shake the draping lichen and ivy from his back and releasing a soft ‘mrrow’ of pleasure at the soft feeling on his paws.

“This den is reason enough to want to become the next Storm,” he whispered, making Cardinalfire snicker.

At the back of the den, Cardinalfire was slightly surprised to see three figures waiting for them. Asterdawn’s presence on a smooth warm rock, soaking in the last rays of sunlight on her pelt was a given - this was her den after all and Callastorm, with the remains of a rabbit piled a short distance away from where he laid on his belly wasn’t too surprising either because he was her lieutenant. But Quietpaw, slightly ruffled and shuffling in-place with her tail lashing back and forth across the ground was an unusual sight.

The two toms exchanged a glance before pressing on to sit before them.

“Thank you for coming so promptly,” Asterdawn said. “You have an important mission ahead of you.”

There was a brief pause, as if she was letting them think before she concluded, “The two of you will be joining Quietpaw in the quest to find the Galespun.”

“I- really?” Jackdawstripe blurted out while Cardinalfire blinked with surprise. He’d understood the implications from the Kirkyard meeting that it would be the Stormborn’s sole responsibility to return the moor-cats back to their rightful places but he’d assumed that his Storm would choose more senior legionaries - like Wildheart or Cedarfur.

“It will be a true testament of your skills,” Callastorm added smoothly. “You’ll likely be crossing through hostile territory and the Galespun has likely left faction-territory altogether for their own safety.”

“Why not Cricketleap?” Cardinalfire suggested.

“Because I trust you two,” Quietpaw said firmly, drawing their eyes back to herself. “Asterdawn says you’ve met my Gale and you’ve always been against Scornedclaw from the beginning. I’m only taking cats I can trust with me on this mission and the only ones I’d want are you and the others are cadets.”

“Aside from that, we need our largest and strongest legionaries to remain guarding our borders,” Callastorm added. “Scornedclaw expressed intent of revenge and I wouldn’t put it past him to attack us just as ahaliim starts thinning the prey.”

Cardinalfire exchanged a look with Jackdawstripe before they nodded together.

“Alright Quietpaw,” Cardinalfire said. “Let’s find your faction.”

“Good,” Asterdawn said, approval and pride for their decision ringing through her voice. “Go to Spottedholly - she’ll have some traveling herbs for you to take and some basic herbs to bring along. And remember, once you cross the borders you represent not just the Stormborn, but all four factions in your words and your behavior.”

| | | |

Thing moved pretty quickly from there - Spottedholly had already been alerted that a party of three would be leaving for a long trip and handed over the herb bundles with a kind set of well-wishes. Quietpaw led them from their territory and directly to the Kirkyard, her paws finally moving through the forest with the grace of a Stormborn cat with every careful leap and bound. Even the few times she stumbled didn’t slow her down, the molly still moving like the gods had given her wings and the ability to float over all mortal obstacles. By the time they had made it to the moor, they were all panting lightly from the unexpected sprint and Cardinalfire shook his head.

Forgot to pace myself, he panted while Quietpaw sniffed the edge of the land. 

“I smell the stench of Fenn and Shores,” she grumbled, tail lashing with open frustration. “We need to be careful.”

“Okay,” agreed the two toms.

Quietpaw immediately took off again, seemingly alternating between striding tall and unafraid in her own territory and skulking cautiously, worried about enemy warriors. 

“Ugh,” complained Jackdawstripe, squinting across the wide array of grasses and brush. His ears were pulled back against his head, faced screwed up from the force of the wind. “Is it always so windy up here?”

“There aren’t enough trees to stop it,” Cardinalfire said. He was faring a bit better than his best friend, his eyes well adapted to handling the smoke from the Hearth that billowed from the cub’s clearing though the way the wind dried out his eyes still wasn’t pleasant. “I guess that’s why this is the gales.”

“The factions were named after the founders,” corrected Quietpaw. “Ours was named for Fading Gale by Nimble Breeze herself.”

“Still don’t know either of them would step onto this scraggy patch of land and think ‘wow, I sure do love the way my whiskers are whipping my muzzle!’”

“We wonder the same thing about Rumbling Storm walking into your land and deciding, ‘stars you know what would make my day? Pricking my paws on eight different thorns.’”

“Well I think you’re both crazy - ‘oh yes, let’s sleep in the cold instead of near a hearth.’” mocked Cardinalfire.

“You kingdom cats are crazy for sleeping near fire,” scoffed Quietpaw good-naturedly. 

Quietpaw led the way through the brush, her amused and joking manner fading away the closer they got to the Galespun camp. The deeper they got, the worse it looked - with torn up patches of grass and dirt, broken bushes and clawmarks scraped into the various rocks and earth. Drips and spatters of dried blood became ever more visible, what Cardinalfire had initially thought were dandelion tufts dancing through the air ending up being bundles of underfur.

Cardinalfire could hardly bring himself to curse out the tangled gorse that lined the dip leading into the Galespun camp, too distracted by the clumps of blood and fur tangled in the thorns. 

“Gods…” Jackdawstripe whispered, looking in horror around the camp

Cardinalfire agreed. Even if the Fenns had wanted to deny what they’d done, it was too obvious what had happened here - there was bedding scattered throughout the open camp, torn up and half trampled in front of the various little tunnels. Even more smears of blood and claw-marks gouged into the ground, this time accompanied by the scores and marks from Magpietail’s spark. He could only imagine the confusion, the raw terror that must have overwhelmed the elders as they were dragged spitting and shrieking from their den, the fear and distress of cubs as their parents fought furiously to defend them in the nursery.

Jackdawstripe nudged him, still staring in muted horror as he pointed his whiskers toward a corpse laying splayed on the ground. Cardinalfire felt his heart sink as he took in the mostly decomposed shape swarming with flies and crawling with maggots and beetles, long limbs and ears identifying the lump as a likely Galespun member. Worse, the carcass wasn’t very big even with the chunks missing, likely from scavengers coming across the body.

Quietpaw walked quietly toward the body, lowering her head to touch noses with the corpse.

“Volepaw,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry…”

Jackdawstripe slunk forward, draping his tail across her back in silent support of their friend while she grieved her faction.

Did the Shores come this far down? Did they see what was done here? They couldn’t have or else they would agree that what happened wasn’t right…

“We should bury him,” Jackdawstripe suggested. “Put his spirit to rest. Where do you bury your cats?”

Quietpaw gave a bitter laugh, “Doesn’t matter, he’s too far gone to move that far. We can bury him here, in the camp - at least he’ll still be able to see the stars.”

The toms started digging without saying anything else, just scooping out earth to create a hollow large enough for the little body. They pushed the body carefully, clearly in agreement that any movement too hard would have the body dissolving and falling to pieces like cobwebs in the rain. The hole was shallow, not nearly as deep as they would usually bury a body but the shape it was in made Cardinalfire inclined to believe the scavengers had already gotten as much as they wanted from the young tom.  They took a moment to pat the small grave down, Jackdawstripe solemnly planting a stick up-right in the earth to mark the location before Quietpaw dragged herself away.

“Over here,” the molly murmured, gesturing to a tunnel that Cardinalfire knows he would’ve walked right past. “It’s an escape tunnel.”

“How come the Fenns didn’t find it?” Jackdawstripe asked, sniffing around the edge.

“There are others - so we can evacuate the whole faction at once,” she said blankly. Her tail flicked to another spot, a large pile of dirt and rocks lumped up seemingly at random. “They noticed and started collapsing tunnels. Even when there were cats in them. So many cats drowned in earth…”

A shiver ran unbidden through her body before she turned and slipped into the den. 

Cardinalfire shot his abashed looking friend a scolding look - now was not the time to ask those sorts of questions - before following the slender molly into the darkened cavern.

He coughed a little as he breathed in. The scents in the camp had been so stale, so faint that without the signs of a battle, Cardinalfire could’ve been convinced that no one had lived in that little camp at all but the cavern was different. His lungs were flooded with the pungent scent of terror and fear of Galespun cats fleeing a massacre in their own home. There was more than just drops or spatters of blood here but rather, fully formed dried brown pawsteps and blood streaked across the tunnel walls like cats had been dragging their open wounds across it.

He made a strangled noise in his chest as he stepped over a tiny crushed and mutilated body - a cub trampled as the faction fled, yet another life wasted.

How long did she stay in this camp before the Fenn-patrols made it unsafe to say?  Cardinalfire wondered, frazzled. How is she just walking through this like she doesn’t see it?

He was glad suddenly that no one else would see this, that none of his faction-mates would ever have to see the Galespun brought so low.

He tried to be discreet in the way he sucked in a breath of fresh, non-stale or fear drenched air when the tunnel curved upward toward the surface. 

“There’s another route they could have taken but… it goes out of Empire territory,” Quietpaw noted, her tail lashing slowly with discomfort. She twisted, looking over at the two toms. “So if either of you are ready to bow out-”

“No,” said Cardinalfire said firmly, Jackdawstripe straightening up in agreement with him. “We’re going to go find them.”

“Aside from just being the right thing to do, we have friends in your faction too,” insisted Jackdawstripe. “Hornetpaw and Tumblepaw were our friends - and if… if they’re gone… well the best thing we can do is bring their kin back home.”

Quietpaw looked between the two of them and then sighed softly, an expression of relief dawning on her face.

“Thank you,”  she said softly. “Come on, the sun is setting so we can rest in one of the Escort Outposts.”

/ / / /

Faction Translations

Ahaliim | The cold season before it starts snowing (lit. falling eye)

Ukennva | the place where all recently caught prey is gathered to be eaten at leisure (flit. fresh-prey)

Surindi | An affectionate pet-name passed down through Jackdawstripe’s family. As the word for wren (rindi) can be used as a catch-all word for ‘seed birds’ it vaguely means ‘little seed bird’ or simply ‘little bird.’ (lit. little-wren)

Sivake Translations

Ka mamanku | I’m (currently) exhausted

/ / / /

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

[plutopitou]

◇ Aren’t I Good Enough?

aizawa shouta x yandere!reader

drabble, wc: 600

Aizawa’s dates continue to mysteriously disappear. Could your sweet, innocent self have something to do with it? | 18+ MDNI

warnings: yandere reader, murder, you’re a little off your rocker, still cute tho, nsfw mention

The clock ticked to 8:49 PM.

Aizawa knocks back the last of his alcohol before paying and leaving.

It was another stood-up, he thought.

The walk back to his apartment was relatively quiet for a Saturday night. The cool chill of the wind wisps back his front hairs, the cold prickling the pale skin on his cheeks. He can still feel his muscles ache from the night prior patroling an area, getting into another villain takedown leaving small blue bruises he was used to seeing.

He thought about what he might do for the rest of the night. His day and night schedule was molded to fit the nightly patrols until the next early morning, sleeping in the day and working at night.

Aizawa was starting to feel restless from the lack of release of his heightened arousel. Always resulting to pumping his hard cock in frustration. His lean abs consticting as he huffs out his climax, hips stuttering underneath the cold stream of water.

He couldn’t help but think there was some sort of pattern.

There was always a part of him that had to stop himself from calling your cell at these late times. After cutting off contact from you, the devil on his shoulder continued to nag it was possibly a mistake.

He felt that his first date with you went well, until it didn’t. Your antics of obsession were starting to grow and become more transparent. There was no denying that spark of crazy he saw in your eyes when you took every inch of his cock in your mouth that day. How well you squeezed him and took it gladly while still pawing for more.

But he was a hero.

Your tinges of violence and anger was something that needed to be properly dealt with and contained. He felt conflicted on how to approach his feelings and if it was smart to continue pursuing you. You were so interesting to him, however the angel said the good thing to do was to block and shoo you away.

Could it have been a mistake?

You scream and cry out every frustration.

This time you were very sloppy. Not caring to monitor what time he could be home and catch you, not bothering to keep quiet so suspecting neighbors don’t hear you and call the police in concern.

You could star in your own thriller movie from how much you felt like a star, drenched in another’s red. After every push and turn of the knife you thrust into the soft flesh you slowly felt the anger in your body pool with her blood around you; the feeling is euphoric.

How dare she try and take him from you?

You get up, stepping back to admire her blood seep into the wood creases of the floor. Pushing hair out your face, you leave little red streaks.

Patting down your skirt and hair you huff in annoyance thinking back to her screams of plead. Why the hell was she screaming when you were the one in the most pain?

Keys jingle as the front door opens.

His eyes draw to the floor and up to your eyes. There was no fear in them.

You stand there carelessly. Your face void of empathy but rather unrepentant.

There was a small, pretty smile on your face. You were all dirty, blood stains on the outfit you picked out this morning. You hoped he was able to appreciate your dedication. There was never going to be someone as good enough as you were to be by his side. All of this was for him.

Aizawa just couldn’t help but laugh in amusement.

“You’ve really done it now, haven’t you?”

Guys I didn’t word vomit this one please give me a clap

Wasn’t gonna post this until Wednesday but I thought why not

Please like, reblog and follow ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

[asinglestrike]

Craneclaw - Moon 31 Event

"Hm.." Craneclaw pricked her ears as Mistface's eyes scanned the cats ready for patrol.

"Hey, Blazedawn? Why don't you lead a border patrol by RiftClan? I'll let you pick who you want." The deputy called out. The ginger molly puffed out her chest. Craneclaw noticed in the short amount of time she had been here that the young warrior seemed to be trusted with leading patrols often.

"Hey, earth to Craneclaw!"

"Wha..?" Craneclaw blinked as Blazedawn waved a paw in front of her. Blazedawn tilted her head with a questioning look towards where Morelshade and Cloudfall were waiting. Craneclaw understood, standing up with a nod and following them out.

With a small twinge of delight, Craneclaw relished in her hind leg bearing weight without pain. Although scarred, it was stars better then the way it was twisted prior. Plus, what's one more scar?

"....and then, I caught just about the biggest eagle you'd ever seen." Craneclaw tuned back in to hear Morelshade telling a story like he usually did.

"Eagles? You've seen one?" Cloudfall breathed. Morelshade nodded with a smirk.

"Battled 'em on the daily."

Blazedawn scoffed. "Morelshade, quit lying to my brother and focus. I scent RiftClan fresh, they must be on patrol as well." It didn't take long for the aforementioned patrol came into view. It consisted of a grey tabby, a fluffy cream molly, and what Craneclaw assumed was her apprentice, a long furred ginger tom.

"Long time no see, Strikeclanners." The grey tom hissed, a spark of aggression in his gaze.

"Pebblejoy." Blazedawn greeted curtly.

What an unfitting name. Craneclaw thought, gazing at him. The grey tom, now known as Pebblejoy, swept his gaze across the patrol.

"Adopting more strays, are we?" He taunted as his eyes landed on Morelshade and Craneclaw. Both cats bristled in response.

"P-Pebblejoy, maybe we shouldn't..." The cream molly spoke up.

"Hush, Ripple! You wanna be apart of RiftClan, you gotta learn how things work." Pebblejoy hissed back at her, making her shrink back with a glance down at her apprentice, who seemed apathetic.

"At least one of your strays looks like he could hold his own. What's your deal? Get your scars from tripping over a mouse?" Pebblejoy sneered.

"You would know, you're about the size of one." Craneclaw hissed back. Pebblejoy growled.

"At least I can contribute. StrikeClan probably took you in out of pity, you're useless."

Craneclaw felt a rush of anger. She snarled, soaring through the air and crashing into Pebblejoy, who let out a yowl of shock, before Craneclaw felt claws sink into her pelt. Twisting and spitting, Craneclaw swiped a claw upwards, catching his ear. She yowled with satisfaction, before it turned into a pained hiss as Pebblejoy landed a blow on her weakened leg, knocking her to the ground. She felt paws pressing her down, blood trickling from her scars that had been opened in the scuffle.

"Run back to your new little home." Pebblejoy hissed into her shredded ear. Cloudfall darted across to her, Blazedawn following.

"Ohhhhh, moons, oh moons, are you ok Craneclaw?" Cloudfall fretted as he and Blazedawn helped Craneclaw up. Craneclaw spat in Pebblejoy's direction before allowing herself to be helped away. Pebblejoy's triumphant yowl rang out from behind as they made their way back.

"Well...that was stupid. Pebblejoy is a little shit, but he's a great fighter." Blazedawn commented.

"Am I in trouble?" Craneclaw croaked. Blazedawn glanced down at her.

"I'll have to report it, ya. But I don't think Emberstar will have your fur for it. Plus...I have a feeling she won't disapprove." Blazedawn said, clearly knowing more then what she was letting on. Craneclaw sighed.

"Alright. Thanks."

"Mhm. Let's get you back and taken care of. We got you."

We got you. Despite the pain, Craneclaw felt a warm glow in her chest. Yes, they had her.

Yippee, it's done! Wanted to revisit some older guys, as I feel like my younger generations have been overshadowing them a bit. I'll let you know the apprentice with Ripple was Weedpaw her new apprentice.

I'm definitely building up Blazedawn as the next deputy, but I have the setting where the leader picks it on their own. So, we'll see. She's definitely above normal warrior status atm.

[residences-of-the-darkforest]

Dark Forest Resident: Rabbitsky

Aliases / Nicknames: Scaredy-mouse

Gender: tom

Sexuality: pansexual

Family: unnamed mother, unnamed father, unnamed stillborn littermates, Stemjay (mate), unnamed unborn kits

Other Relations: unnamed mentor

Clan: ThunderClan

Rank: warrior

Characteristics: easily frightened, flight response, shy, low self-esteem

Murder Motive: self-preservation, panic

Number of Victims: 1+ (unintentionally)

Number of Murders: 1+ (unintentionally)

Murder Method: abandoning when in danger

Known Victims: Stemjay, unborn kits

Victim Profile: his pregnant mate

Cause of Death: yellowcough

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story: 

From the moment he stepped out of the nursery, Rabbitsky hated fighting. Anything confrontational or competitive sparked anxiety in him rather than the excitement that seemed to be normal for everyone else. Even when it came to playfights, he was too filled with worries and thoughts of what he was doing wrong to actually enjoy any of the games, and instead spent most of his time listening to the elder's stories or laying next to his mother.

This behaviour didn't go unnoticed by his peers, who teased him about it, calling him names and whispering 'scaredy-mouse' in his ear whenever he seemed afraid--of going into battle, training, anything.

Then Stempaw, who Rabbitpaw hardly spoke to at all, stood up for him, demanding that the others either apologize or leave him alone. She was fierce and the strongest of the apprentices, so they didn't challenge her, walking off with a glare over their shoulders.

Rabbitpaw thanked her profusely, then they started talking and they never stopped.

Rabbitsky loved Stemjay with every bone in his body, every fur that lined his coat, every cell that made up his entire being. Some days, it was hard to just look at her and not become overwhelmed with affection.

She asked him to go on a walk with her, nothing unusual, and he agreed, mooning after her as if they were still young paws and not fully-grown warriors who have been mates for several moons now.

She sat him down, smiling, and told him that he was going to be a father.

Rabbitsky yowled with joy, bouncing on his paws before curling around Stemjay in a loving embrace. A father!

The bushes snapped.

His noise had attracted a fox...no, not a fox, it was much bigger...the moment it showed its massive head, eyes wild, teeth long and sharp and dripping with drool, Rabbitsky ran.

It wasn't a deliberate choice.

He never meant to leave, especially not with Stemjay still behind him.

It was an uncontrollable panic response, his body's choice, not his, and the second he was able to slow and regain control, he spun around and hurried back, but it was too late.

Stemjay was dead.

Their kits were dead.

All because of him. If he wasn't such a scaredy-mouse, if he wasn't such a coward...!

He helped a patrol chase the beast off, but there was no victory taken in its defeat. Nothing made him feel better. It was too late.

He hardly got out of his nest after that, only doing so when others pushed him to do it. Moons passed by numbly.

When Leaf-bare came, and with it, sickness, Rabbitsky refused treatment. He didn't deserve to be saved.

The life he would have had, the life he threw away, was gone. There was nothing left for him.

Additional Information: 

--Intention was to make a funny scared resident, ended up making it angsty, as usual.

--It was a coyote!

--I imagine this takes around the same time as Goosefeather's Curse

[transhet-lionblaze]

Warriors: Into the Wild Rewrite

Prologue

Tigerpaw trudged through the forest, the heat getting to him as he dragged along a fat rabbit. He was ready to get back to camp, the bright sun beating him into submission as his paws were slick with dirt that made his steps feel unsteady. He wasn’t prepared for such a harsh greenleaf, but the heat was unbearable. The good thing was, prey was plentiful, and Tigerpaw was just glad he wasn’t a WindClan cat, running for rabbits under the hot sun with no trees for shelter. 

He walked along, hoping to smell the familiar scent of his mentor, Thistleclaw the clan deputy, so he could show off his prize, but to no avail. He wandered around the forest, before deciding it was too hot to be playing hide and seek with a grown tom, and just prayed he’d finished his patrol early and was already back at camp. 

As Tigerpaw pushed his way through the ferns encircling the camp, he saw most cats lingering in their nests. Spark Lion was perched on the high rock, his yellow fur gleaming as the sun hit it. Tigerpaw dropped his catch on the fresh kill pile, before he heard a familiar mew call his name.

“Over here!” A cheerful and bright sounding tom with pure white fur waved his tail to signal Tigerpaw. In front of the apprentice was a large robin, big enough for the two of them to share.

“Did you catch that yourself, Whitepaw?” Tigerpaw purred while sitting down next to the tom.

“Nah, Patchpelt had me cleaning ticks all day, said it’s an apprentices duty. But once dad gets back, he’ll get an earful. Thistleclaw says that elder care should be reserved for the medicine cats, who don’t provide any food or protection to the clan.” 

“What was that?” An irritated mew sounded from next to them. Tigerpaw looked up, seeing a dark tortoiseshell who’s fur seemed almost red in the sun’s beams. 

Whitepaw looked flustered, before saying, “I was just joking, Spottedpaw! I know medicine cats are some of the most important cats in the clan, it’s just.” Whitepaw paused for a second. “I was parroting what my dad said, so blame him, not me.”

Spottedpaw seemed to scowl at the mention of Whitepaw’s father, and seemed on edge as she asked, “Where is Thistleclaw today?” 

“Out on patrol,” Tigerpaw said. 

Spottedpaw looked out at the clearing, her eyes seeming to move past the brush that ensnared the camp. She sighed, before walking off, not even saying goodbye. 

“How rude,” Whitepaw mewed playfully, but Tigerpaw just stared as the she-cat left. 

His friend pawed at Tigerpaw playfully, grabbing the tabby tom’s attention. He swished around, only to see a mischievous grin on the white cat’s face. “Why you staring,” he asked.

Tigerpaw flushed, his fur spiking up at the question. “None of your business,” he growled, but it sounded more like a squeal. Whitepaw laughed at the failed attempt to intimidate, before finally taking a bite of the prey in front of him. 

Tigerpaw followed suit, grabbing off a chunk of the meat and swallowing it hastily. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the savory taste of blood hit his tongue, and he swallowed greedily. 

As the sun dipped lower in the horizon, Tigerpaw kept finding himself glancing at the entrance. “What’s got you so worried?” Whitepaw asked after finishing his meal. 

“Thistleclaw…” Tigerpaw let his words drop off as he got up. “I’ll be back, I wanna make sure he’s ok.” 

Whitepaw scoffed, “He’ll be fine. He’s the strongest warrior in the clan, not even Spark Lion could raise a paw to him!” 

Tigerpaw tried to listen to his friend and let the worry wash away, but he couldn’t get rid of this nagging feeling. Without saying another word, he walked off, trying to keep to the shadows of the trees. He lifted his nose, trying for a scent of his mentor, but everything seemed to come up dry. 

Tigerpaw continued to walk forward, until, finally, he was able to grasp onto something near the river that led to the RiverClan border. He walked through a copse of trees, before something bright red halted him in his tracks. 

A mangled corpse, neck snapped in two with scars all over his body. He could tell the now dead cat had put up a fight, but it took a second for Tigerpaw’s brain to catch up to speed and realize who the cat was.

Thistleclaw. 

Tigerpaw tried to call out, to see if, by a miracle of StarClan, Thistleclaw was ok, but he stood. Still. Silent. His shaking legs barely were able to hold the weight of his body now, as he looked up to a cat licking a bloodied paw. 

Tigerpaw stared straight at them, his eyes fixating on the cat, now sure that they were the one who committed this deed. His eyes went dark and turned to slits, his claws unsheathed without him even realizing it, but he knew he couldn’t fight back. Not yet. 

“I’ll destroy you,” he mumbled under his breath, “I’ll kill you.” His words were but a whisper that was caught by the wind, even Tigerpaw himself could barely hear the declaration, but he felt it in his heart. Anger surged in him, and he knew what he had to do.

“I will kill you.” 

[silkclan-gossip]

🌕 SilkClan – Moon 12 (First Moon of Leaffall) By Snakespeckle 🐾

Hey there, SilkClan! 🍂 Leaffall is here, and with it comes crisp air, new apprentices, and plenty of Clan buzz to go around. There's been so much happening this moon, so let's dive into all the juicy details. We've got patrol drama, some very interesting interactions, and a few surprises up our paws!

🌿 Big Happenings:

Clear & Runningpaw’s Loner Patrol This moon’s patrol report is anything but ordinary. Clear and Runningpaw ran into a friendly loner over the border, and next thing you know, we've got a new Clanmate! Welcome to SilkClan, Bitternfeather! 🐾 Can’t wait to see what stories you bring to the fresh-kill pile.

Posyclaw Gives Parsleypaw a Pep Talk Oof, things got intense in the training grounds! Parsleypaw made a simple mistake, and before Posyclaw could even say a word, Parsleypaw was off to camp, convinced they'd never be warrior material. 😿 But Posyclaw—never one to sugarcoat—gave them the hard truth: “Half of glory is believing you deserve it.” And guess what? Parsleypaw came back swinging with renewed energy. You love to see it!

💬 Clan Chatter:

Basilstar’s Playful Side?! Yes, you read that right! Our fearless leader, Basilstar, was caught pranking Robinpaw this moon. Who knew Basilstar had such a playful streak? Keep an eye on your tails, apprentices—you never know what tricks might come next! 🎭

Streakminnow & Gardenia—Something Brewing? Streakminnow’s been taking quite an interest in Gardenia lately. Could be friendship… could be more than that! Only time will tell, but for now, let’s keep our whiskers twitching. 🌼

Wisteriaspeckle Daydreaming Anyone else catch Wisteriaspeckle staring off into space? I did. What's on their mind, you ask? Maybe they’re just enjoying a moment of peace—or maybe there's more to it. After their chat with Basilstar, they seemed pretty deep in thought. 🤔

🐾 Connections & Conflicts:

Gift-Giving from Stoneraven Stoneraven left a surprise gift in Gardenia’s nest! How sweet is that? It’s always nice when Clanmates go the extra mile, but what sparked this sudden generosity? A deeper bond forming, perhaps? 👀

Posyclaw Checking In on Yours Truly Posyclaw's been wondering how I’m doing lately. How considerate! As for me? Oh, I’m just itching to get out and run—maybe a friendly race around the territory? I could use a challenge. 😉

Runningpaw’s Ambition Speaking of running, our very own Runningpaw has been begging to be taught some advanced hunting moves. With that kind of drive, it's only a matter of time before they’re impressing all of us. Keep an eye on this one, Clanmates! 🌟

🌸 Clan Life:

Heatherpaw Hard at Work Heatherpaw's been reinforcing the camp walls with brambles, and let me tell you, they’ve been working harder than ever. Looks like Heatherpaw is eager to prove their skills—and who could blame them? That dedication’s going to take them far!

Snappaw’s Nostalgic Moments Our newest apprentice, Snappaw, has been thinking about their old Clanmates a lot lately. The transition isn’t always easy, but with a little time, I’m sure they’ll feel right at home here. We’re a pretty great Clan, after all! 🧡

Gardenia & Cliffscar: Role Models Extraordinaire Gardenia and Cliffscar have really been stepping up this moon, showing the younger cats what it means to be role models. Between their actions and their advice, they’re setting quite the example for the next generation of warriors!

Clear’s Swimming Ambition Rumor has it, Clear’s been wondering if they could be a good swimmer. Hmmm, I smell some water-bound adventures in their future. Who knows, maybe we’ll have another swimming star in the Clan! 🌊

That’s all for now, SilkClan! Leaffall’s just getting started, and I have a feeling we’re in for even more excitement as the moons roll by. Until next time, keep those whiskers twitching and those ears perked—there’s always more gossip to uncover!

– Snakespeckle 🐾