#asterblaze

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 100, Part 1

During a storm, the ocean waves crash into RippleClan’s camp, threatening to drown many.

[Image ID: Wildclaw and Brightreed stand on a boulder amidst stormy waters, with Wolfgaze on a rock in the background. Wildclaw yowls, "Valleypaw!" to which Brightreed responses, "I'll get him!" Under him, it reads + CONDITION: TORN PELT.]

It's a rite of passage for RippleClan kits to stare up at the great shipwreck that watched over the camp and ask the nearest historian "How did it get here?" After all, even the youngest kits could see the ocean from camp and hear the water at its highest tide, tail-lengths from the westernmost rocks. It never rose high enough to lift a ship all the way from the horizon to the top of the rocks. So how did it happen?

Historians would give some vague guess, some storm that none of them had ever witnessed, but they could never give a definitive answer. It had been there before their parents' parents' parents. No one would ever know what caused RippleClan's ship to wreck itself upon the coast of the Clans.

But that day, as rain pelted RippleClan as hard as claws against skin and saltwater leaked between the western walls, Yarrowclaw could imagine how the ship landed on RippleClan's shore.

RippleClan only realized that the storm had grown worse when Billowhaze loudly complained about his nest being wet, waking up everyone in the warrior's den. Water flowed through minute gaps in the wall in a steady stream, soaking into the leather floor. It ruined the nests near the back of the den, ending just before Yarrowclaw's nest. The brown and white warrior stirred only as surprised orders bounced around the den and cats scrambled out into the bruising rain.

"Asterblaze!" Wildclaw barked, the first out of the den. "Valleypaw! The warrior's den is flooding! We need to dam the holes!" Asterblaze and Valleypaw, who had both been guarding the camp through the night and were soaked through their skin, hurried into camp at the deputy's call.

"The water will ruin the artisan's den," Rattlepelt gulped, hurriedly pulling her fox pelt over. "We need paws to take our supplies to higher ground."

"You can direct the other artisans on that," Wildclaw told her mate with a swift nod. "The tree line should provide some cover for now."

"Valleypaw, loop around camp and find the weak points on that side of the den wall," Asterblaze told his young apprentice. "I'll get some mud, and that should seal them up well enough to get through this rain."

"I'll try," Valleypaw promised as the artisans swarmed past the stunned crowd of soaked warriors, following Rattlepelt's orders to move their pots and baskets.

"Be mindful of the waves!" Asterblaze added before Valleypaw ran out of camp. In an artisan's tale, that sort of statement would have been followed by a violent clap of thunder, but the sky was dark, simply relieving its unbearable load.

Yarrowclaw's fellow warriors squirmed and groaned at the rain, shaking or licking their pelts in vain. Ravenweaver and Mitespark rolled a large pot across the soaked sand while Frostdancer ran basketloads of smaller supplies out to the forest. Yarrowclaw's paws itched. Should she be moving supplies too? Would the rain ruin the fresh-kill? She could—no. No ideas. She had to just listen to what Wildclaw ordered. That was what was best.

"Where are we supposed to sleep?" Billowhaze groaned, ears dragged down with waterweight. "I'm not going back in there tonight."

"We'll figure that out," Wildclaw huffed. "I'm sure we can make room in the other dens."

Yarrowclaw was used to the sound of stormy waves hitting the shore beyond the warrior's den. She knew their foaming, creaking sound well. That sound was a steady backdrop to the night's annoyances. Yet Yarrowclaw's ears bled as a loud creak began to overtake Wildclaw's voice. Yarrowclaw looked toward the foam-stained walls of camp, walls that had never had so much ocean foam smeared on their surfaces as long as Yarrowclaw had been around. Beyond those bramble-topped walls, the ocean stood up.

"SHIT!" Wildclaw shrieked above the rising chaos as the gigantic wave crashed into RippleClan's camp.

Yarrowclaw's paws left the ground. Saltwater surrounded her on all sides. The force of the wave shoved the air out of her chest. Someone's large form smacked into Yarrowclaw's jaw. The pair locked claws into each other, desperate for something, anything, they could hold onto. The wave shoved the confused cats deep into the sand, pressed into the crook of a rock. Yarrowclaw's eyes burned with salt.

When the sting of rain hit Yarrowclaw's nose, the half-drowned warrior gasped violently. Her vision blurred as the cat she had collided with, Venturedapple, stumbled off her. Yarrowclaw coughed out salt and foam. Water formed a pool across the camp. The brambles that lined the eastern wall of camp were now thrown about the clearing, broken by the force of the water. Warriors laid in heaps, smashed against the rocks but still breathing, still groaning and hissing with newfound bruises. Oilstar shoved a fallen plank out from in front of her den and searched for explanation. Wolfgaze had somehow landed perfectly on top of the apprentice's den and looked just as shocked by the sight as Yarrowclaw felt about seeing her.

Some of the smaller rocks of the camp wall had rolled from their resting place. Yarrowclaw nearly exploded when she saw one of the rocks that formed the sides of the nursery had rolled in front of it, but she remembered—Stormjump had that infection. She was in the medicine den, and her kits would be with her or Honeybuzz. The medicine den only had a fallen plank floating in the paw-deep water, they were fine for now. Even though water now flowed over the rocks and deepened the waters within camp, everyone was still in camp. The artisans were by the forest, so…

Wait. No. Valleypaw.

"Valleypaw!" Wildclaw yowled. She had landed belly-up in front of the elder's den, next to a dazed Anchovystrike and an unconscious Leathermask. Despite her wounded Clanmates surrounding her, Wildclaw scrambled up, hissing as she moved. She limped toward the flooding wall and climbed onto the brambleless rocks. She searched the watery beach beyond the wall for signs of black fur and yellow eyes. As she looked, Brightreed crawled out from underneath Wolverineheart and Thundergale; the three had been washed against the eastern walls and laid under the falling water as they collected themselves. A bramble mass clung to Brightreed's body, but he shoved it off despite the blood mixing into the dark stormy waters.

"I'll get him!" Brightreed yowled. He jumped onto the slick rocks and dove into the unseen waters beyond. Wildclaw shook herself out, flinging thick drops about, before following the young warrior down.

Yarrowclaw examined herself. She was cold, yes, and certainly aching and bruised, like everyone else. Yet, unlike Leathermask, she was not unconscious. Unlike Brightreed, she was not bleeding. Unlike Tallowheart, when he stumbled into camp with broken ribs, nothing was broken. Even Venturedapple, who groaned at Yarrowclaw's side, seemed shockingly unharmed. Would he have been so safe if he hadn't been thrown into Yarrowclaw? He practically rode her to… to safety.

"StarClan, no," Yarrowclaw muttered, voice lost in the rain and crashing waves. "Please. I can't be prophesized. Please."

Yarrowclaw had barely listened to Oilstar or the clerics since Estherfern told her about her vision. Whatever it was about, Yarrowclaw couldn't help. She offered a dozen interpretations. If the ship was covered in white flowers, maybe they should be talking to the cat literally named Whiteflower. If it was a ship, maybe it was related to the shipwreck itself and not an individual cat. Anything could be true, except for what Yarrowclaw knew to be true. The feral little voice in her head was already rambling.

You're special. You knew it. You knew it! You're chosen. You're invincible. You're going to survive the storm. No matter what happens today, you can't die. StarClan said so. If ships carry others to shore, and you're the ship, you can save your Clan. No one will die if you're around.

No, no, no! Yarrowclaw couldn't be special, she could not be chosen or invincible for her own sake. The moment she gave into those wild, uncontrollable feelings, she put everyone at risk. And yet the vision… it was almost permission to give in. It was StarClan's way of saying just this once, you can be a little delusional, because in this situation, you aren't.

You get to be a hero, Yarrowclaw.

"Get to the forest!" Yarrowclaw yowled as Icepaw and Pearpaw waded out of the apprentice's den, coughing and shaking. "We need to get out of camp! Just evacuate!"

"Find your kin, everyone!" Oilstar barked as another wave crested over the rocks. The Clan dug their paws into the sand and stood against the salty pressure. Yarrowclaw shut her eyes to block out the sting. She held her breath when the water consumed her head and gasped when it receeded. The water now rippled at her elbows.

The clerics aren't out yet. They're dying. You can keep them alive. No one dies around you. Go.

Yarrowclaw jumped through the water, pushing against the terrified warriors flooding toward the exit. She stumbled, jaw smacking the cold water. As she pushed herself up, she saw Oilstar unite with Carnationspeckle in front of the water-filled artisan's den. The mates touched noses, grateful in each other's safety. Oilstar's eyes met Yarrowclaw, stunned at the only cat not flocking for the exit. She believes you're special too, she's the one who tried to convince you, she knows what you have to do. Yarrowclaw pressed on to the medicine den.

The medicine den was more flooded than Yarrowclaw expected. Water seemed to seep through the sand and the cracks in the shipwreck. The back half of the medicine den had turned into a water-filled cave. Tallowheart lingered at the water's edge, struggling to stand even with Troutpool's help. Gingerspring pounded on Weevilsight's prone belly until she vomited water. The tortoiseshell's signature petals floated out of the den. Midnightpaw cowered against the den wall, the left half of his face wrapped tight in bandages. He shook his head wildly as Honeybuzz and Estherfern cooed for him to move.

"It will get worse if we stay," Honeybuzz snapped. "Midnightpaw, we need to leave now. Just go!"

"I can't!" Midnightpaw whined, hiding his good eye against the ruined shelves of medicine.

"Weevilsight, come on, let's get out of here," Gingerspring gulped as Weevilsight stood, shaking and gagging. "We have to go!"

"Yarrowclaw," Estherfern gasped, the first to notice the newcomer in the chaos and rain. There was more fear in her eyes than Yarrowclaw had seen since Mosspounce carried Foampaw's mangled body into camp. Yet at the sight of Yarrowclaw, Estherfern's blown-out pupils relaxed, ever so slightly. "The vision. Just as your ancestors predicted." Estherfern turned toward Troutpool and Tallowheart, who limped away from the thick waters in the back of the den. "Stay with Yarrowclaw, you two. Nothing will happen if you do."

Yes! Yarrowclaw wouldn't let anyone die at her side. A silly storm couldn't kill her. Nothing could! Yarrowclaw bit her tongue. Blood mixed with saltwater.

"Midnightpaw, your brothers and mothers are just out of camp," Yarrowclaw huffed. "I won't let you get dragged off." Midnightpaw stirred from his blind panic, risking a long look at the brown warrior. Honeybuzz took his chance—he shoved Midnightpaw out of his little corner and into Yarrowclaw, splashing all the way.

"We need to get Indigo," Weevilsight coughed as the group trudged out of the medicine den. "They're in the quarantine den. They're still too weak to move through all this."

"I'll get him, I'll get him," Yarrowclaw huffed. She squinted as the full force of the rain once again burned her eyes. The floodwaters dragged at her fur, trying to keep her still.The camp was empty now, everyone else had evacuated. They knew Yarrowclaw couldn't die. No force of nature could contain her! The longer Yarrowclaw stayed in camp, the easier it was to believe that.

"Wait, look," Tallowheart wheezed, wincing as the effort of talking pressed against his broken ribs. A pale ginger figure slipped around the curve of the shipwreck, keeping a lilac cat on their paws.

"Pearpaw?" Troutpool gasped as Pearpaw helped Indigo shove through the heavy waters. "Why haven't you left camp yet? It isn't safe for an apprentice!"

"It isn't safe for Indigo, either, and no one was helping him!" Pearpaw snapped. She buckled as Indigo fell further into her, continuing to cough. Her shaking legs pressed hard into the unseen sand below and shoved Indigo back up.

"Knew I'd like this place," Indigo chuckled weakly. "Could do without the water, though."

"Wave!" Weevilsight screeched, her dark green eyes fixed on the rushing waters flowing over the rocks. Even though Yarrowclaw could not see or hear another massive wave, she knew Weevilsight's clairvoyance was never wrong. Yarrowclaw shoved Honeybuzz and Midnightpaw toward the western walls.

"Brace!" Yarrowclaw ordered as the creaking sound of another massive wave finally reached her ears.

The clerics and their patients swarmed the rocks, pressing themselves flat against the slick stones. Everyone breathed as deep as they could as the next tidal wave smacked over the entire camp. The ocean shoved Yarrowclaw into the wall as hard as it could. She couldn't move, even with her star-blessed invinciblity. The pressure shoved the air out of Yarrowclaw's chest, but she refused to breathe in water. Her face shoved into Honeybuzz's flank, and Midnightpaw's yowl of panic was suffocated by the onslaught.

When the chaos receeded, the water covered Yarrowclaw's belly. Pearpaw, Indigo, and everyone from the medicine den remained along the western wall, leaning against the rocks, struggling for breath. But they were there. Thanks to Yarrowclaw.

"Swim," Yarrowclaw barked, once more shoving Honeybuzz where she needed him to go. The bandages around Midnightpaw's face came undone from the water weight, revealing half-scarred and snarled red marks crossing over his swollen left eye. He instintively hovered at Pearpaw's side, just far enough to stay out of Indigo's way, but just close enough to keep his good eye on his friend. Tallowheart whimpered in pain, shaking as the water splashed against his bruised chest, but Troutpool and Estherfern helped him on.

The brambles of the camp exit were somehow still in place, forming a tight tunnel with barely enough room to breach the water. Not for them, then. The rest of the brambles that typically lined the rock walls were gone, so that would be the group's way out. Yarrowclaw scaled the smallest of those rocks. Her brittle paws rubbed hard against the rain-slick boulders. Honeybuzz climbed up and over, splashing hard in the open waters beyond camp. One by one, the occupants of the medicine den helped one another over the wall and out of their flooded camp.

The beach was gone. It lurked under the belly-high floodwaters, claimed by the feral ocean. Still, the ocean could not claim everything. RippleClan gathered at the treeline, panting and shivering. They yowled the clerics' names, running back to the water to help their kin to shore.

"Pearpaw!" Icepaw bolted ahead of the adults, charging at his sister. "You were supposed to be behind me!" Icepaw dragged his sister out of the water. Scaleripple slipped behind him and helped Indigo limp into the safe confines of thick, rolling roots.

"Midnightpaw!" When the wounded black apprentice made it to the forest, Rattlepelt wrapped herself around him, shaking harder than anyone else. Further back, Yarrowclaw saw Brightreed nursing his bramble-torn pelt, blood dissolving in the heavy rain. Wildclaw sat hunched in on herself, Whiteflower and Shrewflame on either side. She was wailing.

Yarrowclaw could not see Valleypaw.

"Stormjump!" Honeybuzz yowled as Oilstar and Carnationspeckle met the survivors at the edge of the muddy grass. "Stormjump! Where are my sons?" Oh. Had Yarrowclaw not been in the mindset that she could fight the ocean and win, her stomach might have dropped. She had been focused on getting everyone she saw out, not checking who should have been there in the first place.

"They weren't in the medicine den?" Oilstar gulped, voice strained. Honeybuzz's pupils blew out wide. "Honeybuzz, I saw them, your kits were sleeping with you tonight, you wanted to watch over Stormjump's infection."

"I sent them back!" Honeybuzz shrieked. His cicada wing necklace, still clinging to his neck after all the chaos, whipped against his neck as he spun back toward the camp. "Stormjump felt better! They're in the nursery!"

The nursery… the nursery with a giant rock in front of it… the nursery Yarrowclaw didn't think to check.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Yarrowclaw stand in the rain. Yarrowclaw says, "Treat the injured. I can do it. I can get your family out. I can't die."]

It's fine. You're fine. You're you. You'll get them out. They'll be fine. You'll bring them back. They can't die if you don't let them. Just go back.

No! Yarrowclaw was mortal! She'd probably drown trying to save them! She couldn't get them alone! She could lead a patrol. Yes, that was it. She just needed help. The vision never suggested it was all on Yarrowclaw.

Honeybuzz ran for the water, but Yarrowclaw instinctively stepped in front of him.

"No," she growled. "Treat the injured. I can do it. I can get your family out. I can't die." Her spastic eyes stuck onto the nearest cat. "Carnationspeckle. You're a good swimmer. We have to get them." Yarrowclaw almost wanted Carnationspeckle to reject, to pull rank, to force Yarrowclaw to stay with the rest of the Clan while other cats, cats who knew when their bodies were tired, cats who could give up, took her place. But Carnationspeckle turned to her mate, fear raising her hackles. Oilstar nodded.

"Venturedapple, we need your strength," Carnationspeckle called into the grieving, shocked crowd. Venturedapple emerged tall, eyes hard and ready.

"They're my kits!" Honeybuzz yowled. He tried to skirt around Yarrowclaw, but Splashtuft, Drumtooth, and Leathermask (who had luckily woken up from whatever blow he'd sustained earlier) lunged at their brother. The littermates pulled Honeybuzz into the crowd by his scruff as the gold and white cleric screamed, "They need me!"

"You're barely standing!" Drumtooth snarled, pinning his brother into the muddy grass.

"Your kits don't need their father drowning tonight," Leathermask said. He smacked Honeybuzz's flailing paws down.

"They can't end up like Mom," Honeybuzz whined. His claws pulled up large chunks of grass.

"The others will get them," Splashtuft promised. Of course they would. No one around Yarrowclaw would die. Whether StarClan simply knew it to be true for the night or whether they blessed her, Yarrowclaw was the ship that could bring them back to shore.

Yarrowclaw left Honeybuzz pinned by his brothers and charged back into the water with Carnationspeckle and Venturedapple behind her. Water now flowed steadily over the tops of the rock wall. Carnationspeckle leaped over the camp walls and dove into the submerged clearing. Water flew up Yarrowclaw's nose as she followed. The rock she had seen earlier, rolled in front of the nursery by the impact of the first massive wave, still sat, trapping its occupants within.

"Stormjump!" Venturedapple called, floating into the barricading rock. "Kits! Can you hear us!"

"Venturedapple!" It was Morningkit! His voice slipped through the rain-filled cracks of the blockage. "Help!"

"Everyone on this side," Carnationspeckle barked, swimming around the den. Yarrowclaw waded after her. "Venturedapple, Yarrowclaw, you need to push this boulder as hard as you can. I'm going to dive and dig out the sand around the rock, make it easier to move. Now push!" Venturedapple positioned himself next to Yarrowclaw. His long fur floated in the churning water. Carnationspeckle breathed deep and shoved her head under. Yarrowclaw braced her front paws on the rock. Venturedapple copied her. Hind legs digging into the sand, shaking under the pressure of the moving floodwaters, they pushed.

Don't think about Carnationspeckle. She doesn't matter. She doesn't even need to dig. You don't need any of them to save the kits. You can move this boulder all by yourself. StarClan chose you for this. Your legs don't hurt. You can't feel pain. You don't get tired. This isn't a bad thing. This is the best thing that could happen. Push the rock. Save those kits.

"Be kind to yourself, Yarrowclaw."

Yarrowclaw yowled as the boulder finally, finally, rolled a mouse-length back. Yarrowclaw couldn't see inside. Carnationspeckle pulled her head out of the water, sand caught in her fur. Yarrowclaw's legs gave out as Carnationspeckle and Venturedapple hooked their paws through the opening. With one last shove, the rock tumbled out from the entrance of the nursery.

The nursery was almost flooded to the ceiling. The deep, safe confines that Yarrowclaw spent her earliest days were hidden in the flood. A dark ginger form floated by the ceiling like debris far at sea. Three tom-kits clung to Stormjump's back. Their claws drew blood from their beloved mother, but she kept their small heads above the rising water. Stormjump's face was… peaceful.

Yarrowclaw grabbed Beekit by the scruff. He looked eerily like his father; same golden head and tail, same blue eyes, same white torso. It made the night loop in Yarrowclaw's head as Carnationspeckle pulled Patchkit and Morningkit close. Venturedapple grabbed Stormjump's still scruff and pulled her body out of the nursery.

"Mom told us to hold on to her," Patchkit stammered. "We held on, but, but we hurt her!" Carnationspeckle lifted Patchkit onto Venturedapple's sturdy back. Morningkit climbed on top of Carnationspeckle

"Where's Dad?" Beekit cried, squirming in Yarrowclaw's chattering jaws.

"We're bringing you to him," Carnationspeckle promised, voice breaking. "Just stay on us. You did so well. Stormjump is so proud of you." With the kits balanced as high above the water as they could carry them, the three brown and white cats waded toward the watery rocks and the forest beyond.

This didn't make sense. No one around Yarrowclaw was supposed to die. Why wasn't Stormjump moving? This wasn't what the vision said!

A ship could still bring a body to shore, it seemed.

(Yarrowclaw: 35, female, warrior, cold, fire master)

(Wildclaw: 92, female, deputy, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

(Rattlepelt: 83, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Asterblaze: 47, male, caretaker, thoughtful, inventor and innovator)

(Valleypaw: 9, male, caretaker apprentice, strict, avid play-fighter)

(Billowhaze: 35, male, historian, loyal, good kit-sitter

(Brightreed: 32, male, warrior, righteous, student of art)

(Oilstar: 104, female, leader, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Honeybuzz: 48, male, cleric, daring, sklled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Midnightpaw: 9, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, always wandering)

(Gingerspring: 16, male, cleric, charismatic, human expert, good hunter)

(Estherfern: 134, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Weevilsight: 35, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)

(Tallowheart: 36, male, historian, nervous, good swimmer)

(Troutpool: 61, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sight)

(Pearpaw: 10, female, historian apprentice, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories)

(Indigo: 40, half tom (he/they), teacher, playful, incredible runner, great teacher)

(Icepaw: 10, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Carnationspeckle: 102, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Drumtooth: 48, trans male, caretaker, loyal, great hunter, clever)

(Leathermask: 48, male, warrior, confident, good fighter, eloquent speaker)

(Splashtuft: 48, male, historian, adventurous, fast runner, student of art)

(Venturedapple: 88, male, codekeeper, cold, eloquent speaker)

(Morningkit: 3, male kit, bossy, eye for details)

(Patchkit: 3, male, kit, charming, interested in Clan history)

(Beekit: 3, male, kit, noisy, quick to help)

(Stormjump: 31, female, caretaker, charismatic, incredible cook)

[the-gender-mage]

Nightflamelexic ✧ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A gender related to the word nightflame.

Starmagelexic ✧ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A gender related to the word starmage.

Storyscapelexic ✧ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A gender related to the word storyscape.

Asterblazelexic ✧ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A gender related to the word asterblaze.

Asterflamelexic ✧ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A gender related to the word asterflame.

[tusserdoodle]

Asterblaze my girl. She has a lovers to enemies arc with her mate and I love that for her

She is small and soft but can kick your butt

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 97

Carnationspeckle and Wildclaw fish together and work through their grief over Downstar.

[Image ID: Carnationspeckle and Wildclaw sit along the water, with - CONDITION: GRIEVING underneath them both. Carnationspeckle says, "It's a new era for us."]

(Carnationspeckle: 99, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Wildclaw: 89, female, deputy, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

Yarrowclaw heals from her mangled leg with a small scar. As she returns to patrols, however, Estherfern and Gingerpaw ask to speak to her about a vision.

[Image ID: Gingerpaw brings Yarrowclaw to Estherfern, saying, "I brought her, just like you asked." Yarrowclaw now has a scar along her back ankle, with - CONDITION: MANGLED LEG written under her. Under Estherfern, it says + GUIDANCE FROM STARCLAN: THE SHIP OF YARROW (VISION)]

---

If Yarrowclaw wanted to avoid hallucinating her long dead brother and convincing herself she was StarClan's invulnerable warrior, she needed a routine.

Sandhollow helped her craft the routine shortly after the horse path incident. A patrol at sunhigh and sunset every day, without fail. A hearty serving at each meal. A strict sleep schedule. Talks with Sandhollow or another mediator every half moon, just to check in. All of those little details added up to maintain balance over Yarrowclaw's mind. Yet for moons, Yarrowclaw had been unable to follow that routine, because LynxClan decided to be mouse-brains and kill Downstar over a bunch of crabs.

Getting Honeybuzz's approval to go back on patrol was one of the best things to happen in Yarrowclaw's life. Sure, the wound across her back ankle scarred, a permanent reminder of how a small cut on the right spot could kill a warrior. But now Yarrowclaw could act on the burning in her blood and help her Clan. She could also get away from her brother's flirting in the medicine den. Good for Anchovystrike, finally winning Weevilsight over, but bleh, did they have to make comments like that in front of Yarrowclaw?

As a blistering sunhigh crawled over RippleClan, Yarrowclaw led a hunting patrol through the bramble-lined entrance. A basket, heavy with mice and rats, hung on Yarrowclaw's neck. The warm scent of dough mixed with the bloody fresh-kill under Yarrowclaw's muzzle and made her mouth water. She quickly placed the basket beside the fresh-kill pile and let Rapidleaf, Whiteflower, and Pearpaw (the other members of the patrol) sort their catches. Yarrowclaw jogged up to the oven, where Asterblaze and Shrewflame carefully watched as Icepaw shuffled a large flat rock out from above the fire. Flat chunks of golden bread sat on the rock, steam rising from their hard surfaces.

"When did we get flour?" Yarrowclaw asked, sniffing the hot bread as Icepaw let go of the large stick that allowed cats to slide the stone slab in and out of the oven, just for special meals like this.

"We traded some of our clams and seaweed with WheatClan," Asterblaze explained. "We're going to pour mincemeat over the bread. Stormjump and the elders get the first pieces, but then it goes to whoever asks first." Yarrowclaw eyed the glistening bread. Biting into it once the juice from the mincemeat soaked through? It would be glorious.

"This needs to cool," Shrewflame said, gently nosing a piece of bread, "but when it's done, you can take some."

"We're the ones making the bread, we should get a piece," Icepaw huffed. His tail brushed against the hot stone. He hissed and jumped back.

"We'll see, Icepaw," Shrewflame chuckled as Icepaw rapidly licked his burnt tail.

"Yarrowclaw!" Gingerpaw trotted out of the medicine den, maple seed necklace swinging across his chest. He squinted in the harsh, cloudless light.

"Gingerpaw, do you want some bread?" Icepaw asked. "Wait, it is still Gingerpaw, isn't it?" Oh, right! The half-moon meeting had been the night before.

"It is," Gingerpaw grumbled, whiskers drooping. "Estherfern says I'm 'too immature' to graduate."

"Oh, that's not true!" Shrewflame huffed. "You're just chatty! If everyone was held back for being chatty, I'd still be an apprentice." Icepaw and Asterblaze both laughed at that.

"I need Yarrowclaw," Gingerpaw sighed. "Can you come with me?" Back to the medicine den? Yarrowclaw just got out of there! Still, Gingerpaw wouldn't call for Yarrowclaw without reason. But the food…

Yarrowclaw forced herself away from the oven and joined Gingerpaw. Her pelt itched in the heat as the medicine den drew closer. Weevilsight, Honeybuzz, and Troutpool were by the cleric's oven, preparing their concoctions. Yarrowclaw's curiousity peeked over her hesitancy, but only for a moment.

Estherfern waited inside the medicine den, laid out in her nest. Her sunlit eyes studied Yarrowclaw with the same detached, all-knowing gaze Yarrowclaw grew up with. Yarrowclaw's nest was still there, still stinking of healing wounds.

"I brought her, just like you asked," Gingerpaw sighed. He stalked past Estherfern and crawled into his nest.

"You're going to participate, Gingerpaw," Estherfern huffed, spinning back and nipping Gingerpaw's foot. "This is a cleric's most important job. You can nap later." Gingerpaw grumbled unintelligibly but shuffled closer.

"What do you need from me, Estherfern?" Yarrowclaw asked, taking an awkward seat in front of the old cleric.

"I need to talk to you about something I saw at StarClan's Shrine," Estherfern explained carefully. "I believe it strongly relates to you." Now that was a dangerous thing to tell a cat like Yarrowclaw. She buried her tension deep. "When I dreamed at the Shrine last night, I received a visit from your mother. She provided me with a vision." Harvest… Yarrowclaw struggled to remember her face at times. Did her spirit visit the camp? What did she think of Yarrowclaw and her brothers?

"She showed us both the vision, technically," Gingerpaw chuckled. Estherfern smacked his muzzle with her tail.

"In this vision," Estherfern said, "I stood on a water-washed rock in the middle of the ocean. A violent storm raged around me. The waves nearly pushed me into the water. Yet as the storm grew more violent, something began to grow under my paws. A mass of vines and leaves stretched underneath me. It lifted me from the rock and above the chaos of the waves. It was a ship, just like this ship we now live in, back when the humans sent it to sea. But the ship was not made of wood. Growing between the plant matter were masses of white flowers. Yarrow flowers. The ship was built from the stems and leaves of impossibly strong yarrow. It carried me through the storm until land appeared on the horizon. Now I've grown familiar with how StarClan shares information through metaphor and symbolism. This ship of yarrow is a clear message. You were that ship, Yarrowclaw."

"No," Yarrowclaw immediately huffed. "No, no, I can't be involved in a prophecy." She hurried to her paws. Her muscles ached from restraining the storm inside.

"It's not something you have a choice about, Yarrowclaw," Estherfern sighed.

"StarClan can't pick me," Yarrowclaw snapped. "If they pick me, it will prove I'm right, and I'll get myself killed." Gingerpaw cocked his head at Yarrowclaw's odd phrasing, but Yarrowclaw barely noticed.

"Something's coming to RippleClan," Estherfern said, getting up. "You will be a sanctuary, a savior. You are destined to weather the storm, whatever it be."

"And you had to tell me that?" Yarrowclaw groaned. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"It's not really what you're going to do," Gingerpaw explained awkwardly. "It's more what we're going to do about you. We wanted to let you know that we're going to talk to Oilstar about your duties. If you're a ship in this story, then whoever is on you, or I guess near you, should be safe from whatever's coming. So—"

"I'm not staying in camp," Yarrowclaw hissed, no longer afraid to hide her widening eyes and curling lips. "I can't stay in camp."

"You aren't trapped here," Estherfern grunted with a dismissive twitch of her whiskers. "But keeping you close to as many cats as possible could save lives."

"You don't even know what's going to happen!" Yarrowclaw yowled. "I—no, I can't have this conversation." She turned out of the den.

"Where are you going?" Estherfern snapped as Gingerpaw slunk back to his nest. "We need to talk to Oilstar."

"It's none of your concern!" Yarrowclaw growled, stepping back into the sun. Curious glances passed her way as she marched to the warrior's den. Hopefully Sandhollow would be inside. She needed someone sane to talk to.

You're special. You're chosen. Of course you're chosen. You can save them. You can save them all. You'll need to train, you have to be able to fight off what's coming, but what if it's not a fox or bear or wolf, what if its nature? You should go to StarClan's Shrine, you need to know more, go right now go go go go go—

No! Yarrowclaw growled at herself as she entered the warrior's den. Half the Clan was sleeping through the hot midday, relaxed in their nests and on top of one another. Yarrowclaw jumped into her nest, even though she knew she wouldn't sleep.

She couldn't be special. For her own sake, she could not be special. She wouldn't allow it.

(Yarrowclaw: 32, female, warrior, cold, fire master)

(Asterblaze: 44, male, caretaker, thoughtful, inventor and innovator)

(Shrewflame: 21, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)

(Icepaw: 7, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Gingerpaw: 13, male, cleric apprentice, charismatic, curious about humans, moss-ball hunter)

(Estherfern: 131, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

Sandhollow wonders if he is destined for something greater as his sister gives birth to three kits.

[Image ID: Sandhollow and Yellowburst approach Stormjump and her three newborns from the distance, with Yellowburst calling, "Hurry, we have to meet them!" Under Stormjump, it says - CONDITION: PREGNANT, + CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH. The first kit looks just like Honeybuzz, and under him, it reads NEW PLAYER: BEEKIT, 0, MALE, NOISY. The next kit is white with ginger patches. Under him, it says NEW PLAYER: PATCHKIT, 0, MALE, CHARMING. The last kit is golden with a blanket of tinted white across his forehead and back. Under him, it reads NEW PLAYER: MORNINGKIT, 0, MALE, BOSSY.]

(Stormjump: 28, female, caretaker, charismatic, incredible cook)

(Beekit: 0, male, kit, noisy)

(Patchkit: 0, male, kit, charming)

(Morningkit: 0, male, kit, bossy)

(Yellowburst: 28, female, caretaker, adventurous, great mediator)

(Sandhollow: 28, male, mediator, ambitious, lore keeper)

Midnightpaw is apprenticed to Anchovystrike while Valleypaw gets to learn under Asterblaze to harness his excitement to fight. Before they head out, though, Wildclaw and Rattlepelt apologize for any neglect they may have felt in the nursery as they both fought their grief.

[Image ID: Rattlepelt and Wildclaw talk to Midnightpaw and Valleypaw, now apprentices. Under Midnightpaw, it says LEVEL UP! MIDNIGHTKIT → MIDNIGHTPAW, POLITE → OBLIVIOUS. Under Valleypaw, it says LEVEL UP! VALLEYKIT → VALLEYPAW, QUIET → STRICT. Rattlepelt says, "We just… don't want you to think we weren't utterly in love with you." Under her, it says - CONDITION: GRIEVING.]

(Midnightpaw: 6, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, always wandering)

(Valleypaw: 6, male, caretaker apprentice, strict, avid play-fighter)

(Rattlepelt: 80, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Wildclaw: 89, female, deputy, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

Icepaw and Pearpaw meet their long-lost kin at the Gathering.

[Image ID: Icepaw and Pearpaw meet Nimblestep and Quickpaw, the latter of whom is now an apprentice. Pearpaw says, "So… how do we do this?"]

---

For a few days, Icepaw wasn't sure he would make it to his first Gathering. He'd been stuck in the medicine den, his head screaming to shut out the light and noise. Shrewflame did his best to continue his lessons, giving him the same overview of herbs that mediator and caretaker apprentices were expected to learn, but he couldn't join Shrewflame on patrol. He couldn't spar with Pearpaw and Dovepaw. All he could do was think about what his mother and sister would look like as the full moon drew closer and closer.

Yet, by the grace of StarClan or whatever Celestial watched over headaches, Icepaw still made it. He still got to walk alongside his fellow apprentices near the back of the crowd as they made their way to the Leader's Stone. The full moon glistened in the hot, cloudless night. Oilstar and Wildclaw proudly led the way, each eagerly discussing how to share their goods with the other four Clans. Baskets heavy with offerings from the sea dangled off warriors' necks. Pearpaw in particular had a basket of seashells, perfect for decoration. The seashells jingled together as Pearpaw walked alongside Icepaw and the pair listened to Dovepaw's rambling.

"Wolverineheart promised I could meet her friend Deerswipe tonight!" Dovepaw chirped, bouncing around the apprentices. "She's half-blind too. They spar together all the time! And now that SlugClan's not mad at us, Wolverineheart said she and Deerswipe can show me some tricks!"

"Was she part of the raid?" Icepaw muttered, unable to stop his hackles from rising.

"What raid?" Midnightpaw asked from behind the older apprentices. Valleypaw, who walked alongside his brother, kicked at Midnightpaw's feet.

"You know what raid!" Valleypaw huffed.

"No, because there's been two," Midnightpaw chirped innocently, stumbling back into a steady pace. "There was SlugClan breaching camp, and then there was LynxClan stealing our crabs."

"We're talking about a SlugClan warrior," Valleypaw groaned, rolling his eyes. "Why would we talk about LynxClan?"

"Midnightpaw's fine, Valley," Pearpaw huffed, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter if Deerswipe was part of that attack or not. We listen to our leaders, and we talk through what happened at the Gathering. That's what Clan life is like."

Icepaw relaxed at his sister's wise words, but something twisted in his chest. Yes, that was what Clan life was like. Yet none of them were technically ever meant to live that life. Dovepaw chose it, sure, but the other apprentices were less than a moon old when their mothers found them. They only had theories as to what happened with Midnightpaw and Valleypaw's birth mother. And for Icepaw and Pearpaw… well, their fate was decided for them before they were even born, by two mollies Icepaw never met. He could only hear secondary tales of Lemmy's motivations, and wonder why Potterypool agreed to murder his father. At least she felt bad about it afterward. Yet that did not stop the twisting in Icepaw's chest.

He recognized the great cliffside leading up to the Leader's Stone from Puddlewhisper's stories. He could see glimpses of the great bonfire through the distant shrubs. The hushed purrs of countless cats filled his ears. Oilstar and Wildclaw were already up and over by the time Icepaw and the other apprentices got close. Just before Icepaw could follow the rest of his Clan up, however, Scaleripple stepped in front of him.

"A few rules before you go up," Scaleripple said, his blue-feathered tail high. "Stay with us while the leaders give their announcements. We can socialize when they're done. Stay in the clearing. Be smart about what you share."

"Wolverineheart told me all that," Dovepaw huffed, cocking his head. "Why are you? You aren't our mentor."

"I'm a teacher now," Scaleripple said with a hint of pride in his purr. "I help apprentices. That's my job."

"Don't be rude, Dovepaw," Valleypaw huffed, gently smacking Dovepaw's side.

"I wasn't being rude, I was asking a question," Dovepaw said, earnest in his naivity.

"Let's go," Pearpaw said, weaving around Scaleripple and up the cliffside path. Icepaw was right on his sister's tail, heart racing as the voices above grew louder and louder.

It wasn't the size of the crowd that stunned Icepaw. He knew to expect more cats than he could count, with caretakers uncovering hidden cookware and constructing makeshift ovens and stoves. He knew each of the four leaders already on the Leader's Stone, from top to bottom: Eelstar, Gentlestar, Ospreystar, and Lettucestar. No, as Icepaw stared out across the crowd, he saw one cat in particular, sitting at the front of their Clan. It was a brown rosette covered tabby whose blue eyes caught in the firelight. She was thin, yet nimble in frame, sitting tall and tense, staring at the Leader's Stone. Icepaw couldn't explain how he knew with such certainty, but he knew. That was Nimblestep. That was his mother.

"Icepaw, let's sit near the front!" Midnightpaw called, charging past Icepaw. Icepaw stumbled forward, and the rest of his Clan pulled him through the crowd. By the times he got his bearings, he was close to the front of RippleClan, sitting beside Midnightpaw, Dovepaw, and Pearpaw, sans basket. Valleypaw lurked further into the crowd by Asterblaze. Icepaw searched for Nimblestep once more. Nimblestep's eyes sweeped RippleClan. She was looking for her kits.

"I want to give my Clan plenty of time to celebrate tonight," Oilstar called as she found her place on the bottom of the Leader's Stone. "Let's go through this moon's news quickly."

Icepaw struggled to focus as the other leaders gave their reports. Icepaw knew he should pay attention, Shrewflame would probably ask him questions later. But how could he pay attention when Nimblestep was so close by? Icepaw could barely sit still. Nimblestep was right there. He knew she would be, but to see her so soon, so suddenly…

The five Clans melted together faster than Icepaw expected. He hadn't even realized the leaders had finished delivering their news. Had the Clans cheered his name somewhere in all that noise? He couldn't tell.

"Icepaw." Oh thank StarClan, Paleseed was there. The gray speckled mediator brushed against her nephew, with Pearpaw lingering beside her. "Your birth mother is here. Do you want to meet her?"

"I already see her," Icepaw said as the SlugClan party merged with the rest of the Clans. Nimblestep swerved between cats, deftly navigating the chaotic reunions toward her own chaotic reunion. Her tail inched upward, ever hopeful. In Icepaw's eye, flashes of Puddlewhisper's blood still stained Nimblestep's mouth.

"I can stay with you while you meet her," Paleseed promised softly.

"No thank you," Pearpaw gulped. "I—We want to meet her alone." No! There was no "we" in that decision! Icepaw shook his head rapidly, but Paleseed merely touched noses with Pearpaw and dissolved into the crowd. She was gone before Icepaw could choke out a word.

"Pearpaw!" Icepaw whined.

"We shouldn't have someone else minding us for this," Pearpaw whispered as Nimblestep drew closer. "Nimblestep's our mother." Some mother, Icepaw thought.

"Is it you?" Nimblestep croaked as the crowd began to part and find places to share tongues. "Icepaw? Pearpaw?" Her voice quivered.

"Hi, Nimblestep," Pearpaw gulped. Icepaw didn't know whether to puff himself up and stand in front of his sister or allow his sister to take the lead. He stayed right next to Pearpaw, taking in Nimblestep's features. Pearpaw looked nothing like Nimblestep; the former was round and a bit short, while Nimblestep was tall and thin. Did Icepaw have his mother's angular face? Or did his features align more with his long-lost father?

"You're really here," Nimblestep purred. Her whiskers suddenly danced over Icepaw's pelt as she sniffed her lost son. Flashes of an event Icepaw could never have remembered overwhelmed his senses; teeth slipping off of his pelt, wood smacking into his skull, forever damaging the brain within. Icepaw's head throbbed in response.

"Hold on," Icepaw stammered, dancing away from Nimblestep. "Shouldn't Quickpaw be here?" Pearpaw's blue eyes (the only thing she shared with her birth mother) glistened at the thought of her unknown sister. Nimblestep's eyes glowed too.

"She's just with her mentor," Nimblestep eagerly explained. "She's going to be a mediator. This way, hurry." Nimblestep jogged through the crowd, but kept pausing to make sure Icepaw and Pearpaw were behind her. Both apprentices followed their birth mother, eyeing each other as they went.

Quickpaw sat with an older black tom among a gaggle of mediators from across the five Clans. Sandhollow and Slushtrail sat in their number, close to the young apprentice. Quickpaw looked exactly like Nimblestep. They shared the same brown fur and black markings. She had the spots to fill Nimblestep's rosettes. She was just as thin and clearly taller than Icepaw and Pearpaw. Yet her eyes were a rich dark brown, moving away from the family's pattern of blue.

When Quickpaw spotted her family through the crowd, she said something quickly to her mentor, who caught Nimblestep's eye. When Quickpaw's mentor nodded, the young brown molly bounded through her fellow mediators and straight to Nimblestep's side. Nimblestep nuzzled her daughter, purring deep. Quickpaw returned the gesture, stretching her head high to rub against her mother. Icepaw felt ill.

"You made it," Quickpaw gasped, oggling Icepaw and Pearpaw. She took in every detail of her littermates' pelts, but Icepaw could only look at Nimblestep. Her eyes shouldn't have been so relaxed, her pupils slit and calm. That was the look Puddlewhisper had when Icepaw became an apprentice. That was a mother's look.

Nimblestep did not deserve a mother's look.

"So…" Pearpaw gulped, "how do we do this?"

"I want to talk to Quickpaw," Icepaw blurted, louder than he intended. "Just Quickpaw. Uh, and Pearpaw too, I mean. Not Nimblestep. Later. Just… over here!" Icepaw spotted an empty spot on the far side of the clearing, beyond the Leader's Stone. Icepaw's claws dug up grass as he ran through the crowd. Whatever cries of shock his family gave, the sound of the Gathering covered it up.

Icepaw skidded to a stop beyond the chaos of the five Clans. When he glanced back, his racing heart eased. Pearpaw and Quickpaw were on their way. Nimblestep was lost within the crowd.

"What are you doing?" Pearpaw gasped as she and her lost sister neared their brother. "We can't just run away from Nimblestep like that! She's been dying to see us!" Yes, dying—like what happened to Downstar when SlugClan sent a whole patrol to steal Icepaw and Pearpaw from the only life they knew. Icepaw squeezed his eyes tight.

"Later, Pearpaw," Icepaw said through gritted teeth. "I can't do it now. I just can't." Icepaw finally looked up and locked eyes with Quickpaw. Did Nimblestep save her because they both looked the same? Would Icepaw be in her place if Quickpaw had been the one to slip out of Nimblestep's jaws that fateful day? Had Pearpaw even been considered for salvation?

"What would she have called us," Icepaw finally huffed, "if she got to keep us? She named you Quick. Who would we have been?"

"Icepaw, Nimblestep probably didn't—" Pearpaw began.

"You would have been Sleek," Quickpaw said. She said it with such blunt sincerity that Icepaw snapped out of his spiraling thoughts. "Pearpaw, you would have been Silent. Quick, Sleek, and Silent." Hmm. Sleek. Icepaw had to admit, he didn't hate the name.

"I'm sorry, Icepaw's being rude," Pearpaw stammered, looping around Quickpaw. "I'm so happy I get to meet you. I've spent so long wondering what you would be like!"

"Me too," Quickpaw purred. She hesistated before Pearpaw, glancing at Icepaw all the while. Suddenly, Quickpaw dove into Pearpaw and rubbed against her shoulder. Pearpaw squealed at the sudden touch but did not recoil. A moment later, Pearpaw rubbed into her sister's neck with a noisy purr.

"Did Nimblestep tell you she attacked our mom?" Icepaw asked before his littermates could start sharing tongues and forget they were ever apart. "Puddlewhisper, I mean. She raised us. Nimblestep almost bit her tail off."

"My mentor, Crowtail, did," Quickpaw admitted, still purring as she moved back from Pearpaw. "He was there. Mom said she was sorry. She got overwhelmed."

"She still hurt our mom," Icepaw growled with a thrash of his tail. He pulled himself back, swallowing the bile climbing his throat. "But you… who are you? I mean, what are you like? I mean… I don't know what I mean." Icepaw kicked at the grass.

"I'm just… me," Quickpaw said, cocking her head slightly. "I don't really know how to describe myself. I like moss-ball. I like visiting the river, swimming is really fun. Uh… oh, don't tell Mom, but most of the time, when I need a break from her, I hide in this little nook in the roots of the Leader's Tree and sing to myself. I like singing."

"You hide from her?" Pearpaw repeated, taking a seat. "Why would you ever hide from your mom? Is she mean?"

"No!" Quickpaw stammered. "The opposite. She won't leave me alone sometimes. She always wants to know what I'm doing and if she can help. I couldn't wait to be an apprentice." Quickpaw glanced over her shoulder, as though Nimblestep would ignore Icepaw's wishes and storm into the conversation.

"Did she tell you how she left us?" Icepaw asked.

"In a way," Quickpaw groaned. "She told me she only managed to save me. Your meditators visited camp a few moons ago, and I bothered Sandhollow until he told me about you two." Quickpaw cocked her tail at Pearpaw and said, "You're always sticking close to Icepaw, and you get upset when something bad happens to a hero in stories."

"I want them to be happy," Pearpaw whined playfully.

"You love to stick your nose into everything," Quickpaw said, now pointing at Icepaw. "You're too smart for your own good, but you have a 'warrior's heart', whatever that means."

"Was Sandhollow complimenting us or insulting us?" Icepaw chuckled.

"You're also rude," Quickpaw pointed out. "Mom's always tried her best with me. You can at least see that she's trying."

"That's what I've been telling him!" Pearpaw huffed, making a face at Icepaw.

"She's not the one I want to get to know," Icepaw grunted. "She chose you, not us. Well, I want to choose you, and I want you to choose us. I want another sister."

"That's why I'm going to be a mediator!" Quickpaw chirped, ears perking. "I can make lots of excuses to see you!" Icepaw's ears perked up too. The twisting force in his chest unwound itself.

"Does SlugClan have any teachers?" Pearpaw asked. "Maybe Icepaw can get Shrewflame to help SlugClan with the new role!"

"We have one," Quickpaw hummed, "but I have a better idea. How do you feel about sneaking out of camp?"

"Quickpaw," Icepaw said with the seriousness of a battle-hardened warrior. "I have wanted to sneak out of camp since I was born."

"That doesn't make any sense," Quickpaw laughed, playfully flinging her paw at Icepaw.

"Wouldn't it be better to make sure the adults approve our visits?" Pearpaw gulped. "I don't want to make my mentor upset."

"The adults are why Mom never saw you before tonight," Quickpaw whispered, leaning in. "We're shouldn't have to wait until graduation before we can visit each other. We should have our own Gatherings!"

"We could meet where SlugClan, WheatClan, and AshClan meet," Icepaw purred, ideas sparking wildly. "We can meet on the new moon! That way we don't have to worry about missing the actual Gathering."

"It'll be fun, Pearpaw!" Quickpaw said, nudging the pale ginger molly. "Don't you want a sister?"

"I really do," Pearpaw groaned, one ear angling back. "Oh… alright, let's do it. The Littermates Gathering." Quickpaw and Icepaw cheered at the top of their lungs. Icepaw laughed at Quickpaw's cries, and Quickpaw laughed at Icepaw's laughter.

That was family, to him—choice. He wanted them, they wanted him, and none of them would let the others go.

(Icepaw: 7, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Dovepaw: 7, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, active imagination)

(Midnightpaw: 6, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, always wandering)

(Valleypaw: 6, male, caretaker apprentice, strict, avid play-fighter)

(Pearpaw: 7, female, historian apprentice, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories)

(Scaleripple: 50, male, teacher, lonesome, unusually strong fighter)

(Oilstar: 101, female, leader, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Paleseed: 63, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

Tallowheart gets tossed around by the ocean waves while fishing. It’s his good swimming that leaves him with just some broken ribs.

[Image ID: Tallowheart limps away from the ocean, muttering "Oww…" Under him, it reads + CONDITION: BROKEN RIBS.]

(Tallowheart: 33, male, historian, nervous, good swimmer)

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 96

Frostpaw gets the name Frostdancer, much to Gingerpaw’s envy.

[Image ID: Frostdancer is now in a long-furred adult sprite. Under her, it reads LEVEL UP! FROSTPAW → FROSTDANCER, STRICT → CONFIDENT, LOVER OF STORIES → GREAT STORYTELLER. Gingerpaw, in the same adult sprite, watches from the back with Estherfern.]

(Frostdancer: 12, female, artisan, confident, great storyteller)

(Gingerpaw: 12, male, cleric apprentice, charismatic, curious about humans, moss-ball hunter)

(Estherfern: 130, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

Asterblaze and Elmsprout reminisce about their old Clans when a WheatClan apprentice stumbles into the territory. They help him find his way home.

[Image ID: Elmsprout and Asterblaze speak with a black spotted apprentice. Asterblaze says, "We'll get you home, Fluffpaw." Under him, it reads LEVEL UP! CONSTANTLY FIDDLING WITH TOOLS → INVENTOR AND INNOVATOR.]

(Asterblaze: 43, male, caretaker, thoughtful, inventor and innovator)

(Elmsprout: 63, female, caretaker, charismatic, trusted advisor)

Icepaw gets apprenticed to Shrewflame and Pearpaw trains under Whiteflower. Puddlewhisper goes to inform Nimblestep of her kits’ apprenticeship and decision.

[Image ID: Puddlewhisper watches from afar as Shrewflame and Whiteflower guide Icepaw and Pearpaw, now in the same apprentice sprites, out of camp. Under Puddlewhisper, it says LEVEL UP! THOUGHTFUL → RIGHTEOUS, + CONDITION: MANGLED TAIL. Under Icepaw, it says LEVEL UP! ICEKIT → ICEPAW, UNRULY → FIERCE, + NEW SKILL: NEVER SITS STILL. Under Pearpaw, it says LEVEL UP! PEARKIT → PEARPAW, QUIET → RIGHTEOUS, + NEW SKILL: LOVER OF STORIES.]

---

Lettucestar and Oilstar both agreed at the Gathering that they would each apprentice Nimblestep's kits three days following the Gathering. At that time, a RippleClan patrol would meet SlugClan at the border, either with or without Icekit and Pearkit. Their absence would mark their decision. The kits had each emphatically told Puddlewhisper that they would stay in RippleClan, but as their apprenticeship drew closer and closer, Puddlewhisper couldn't help but wonder; would they change their minds?

As dawn approached, heralding the litter's apprenticeship, Puddlewhisper was the first in the nursery to wake up. All the kits were big enough that they needed their own nests, so Puddlewhisper found her side absent of warm faces. Icekit and Pearkit still had their nests close to Puddlewhisper, however. Icekit laid on his back, twitching in the depths of a dream while Pearkit laid in a peaceful lump, quietly dozing. Midnightkit and Valleykit had crawled into one another's nests over the course of the night, leaving Rattlepelt buried under her fox pelt alone. Stormjump, plump with her pregnancy, was dead to the world while Dovekit blocked Puddlewhisper's path out of the den. He had somehow gotten out of his nest and decided to sleep stretched out across the entrance like leather flooring. Puddlewhisper rolled her eyes. The sooner that odd lump of fur was in the apprentice's den, the better.

Puddlewhisper crept around Icekit and Pearkit. She nimbly stepped over Dovekit and into camp. It was still dark out, meaning that dawn patrols had yet to set out and no one had begun their day. The camp was quiet, save for the hum of the late night birds and the shifting presence of one of the caretakers outside. The waning gibbous moon hovered behind the shipwreck, turning the landmark into a dark shadow painted against Silverpelt.

To Puddlewhisper's surprise, she was not the first in camp to stir early. Paleseed hovered outside the apprentice's den, fiddling with moss. Paleseed spotted Puddlewhisper and paused with moss sticking between her claws.

"I'm just deconstructing Frostdancer's old nest," Paleseed whispered as Puddlewhisper approached. "We keep forgetting it's in here. Icekit and Pearkit can use some of this moss." Puddlewhisper nodded and sat next to her sister. A tickle crawled up her back despite the warm summer night. She stared into the empty apprentice's den and thought back to the days when all of her littermates crowded inside, eagerly sharing tales of their training deep into the night. Ripplefern's memory was a haze in the back of the den. Would she be there as Icekit and Pearkit decided on their futures?

"Puddle?" Paleseed purred, drawing her sister's eye. "Icekit and Pearkit already said they want to stay here. Why do you look so tense? Did they change their minds?"

"I don't think so," Puddlewhisper gulped. "Still… if I knew I had kin in another Clan, I would want to meet them."

"Whatever happens," Paleseed promised, grooming Puddlewhisper's neck, "you've been a good mother." Puddlewhisper licked Paleseed's ear. She bunted Paleseed's shoulder and, for a moment, pretended Nimblestep didn't exist, that she had been born a molly, that Icekit and Pearkit were forever, always, and unconditionally hers.

The pair sat in the well-trodden sand, each grooming the other as light leaked over the horizon. The Clan slowly stirred around them. Whiteflower and Shrewflame ran for the artisan's den as soon as they stirred. They nearly knocked over Downstar's almost-finished sculpture, ready to be painted and stored beside Weedfoot's image in a rocky off-shoot of the elder's den. Yarrowclaw limped out of the medicine den, her deep wound slowly forming into a neat scar. Halibutdusk, Rapidleaf, and Mitespark gathered around the fresh-kill pile, debating how they would handle the sunhigh meal.

When Dovekit charged out of the nursery and hassled Yarrowclaw, Puddlewhisper knew it was time to greet her kits. Paleseed sensed her sister shift beside her and stopped grooming her back.

"Make them look pretty for today," Paleseed hummed as Puddlewhisper headed for the nursery. Puddlewhisper stood a little taller as the den's interior came into view. Sure enough, everyone inside was awake. Midnightkit and Valleykit jogged past Puddlewhisper, leaving Rattlepelt alone to stretch and adjust her fox pelt. Stormjump stayed in her nest, weighed down with no reason to get up and go. Icekit and Pearkit whispered to each other, heads dipped low. Pearkit, however, perked up as Puddlewhisper came in.

"Mom," Pearkit said, jumping around Icekit and stopping at her mother's paws. "Do you know when Oilstar will call for the Clan?"

"I'm sure she won't wait too long," Puddlewhisper promised as Icekit joined his sister. "How do you both feel?"

"My head hurts a bit," Icekit admitted, tail twitching awkwardly, "but I'm ready to have the ceremony."

"And you both still…" Puddlewhisper gulped.

"We're staying, Mom," Pearkit promised. She bunted Puddlewhisper in the chest. "We can get to know our kin at the Gathering." Puddlewhisper purred deeply, all the trapped anxiety in her chest flooding out as she pulled Pearkit close and rapidly groomed her head. Icekit tried to step around the two mollies, but Puddlewhisper stuck out her hind leg and blocked him.

"You need to look nice for the ceremony, too," Puddlewhisper chuckled. Icekit groaned dramatically, but stayed where he was.

It wasn't long before Oilstar yowled from the top of the Shiprock, "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather below the Shiprock for a Clan meeting!" By then dawn had firmly settled itself across RippleClan, the sun forming a gibbous shape against the edge of the ocean. Icekit and Pearkit's fur was groomed to perfection, with not a single curvy hair out of place. Weedfoot had the same standard of perfection for Puddlewhisper's apprentice ceremony, so why should she stray from tradition?

Icekit and Pearkit flanked their mother as they all entered the camp clearing. With the pair at either side, Puddlewhisper preened a little; her kits would never outgrow her. Pearkit was shaping up to be a rather small molly, more round than tall, while Icekit had a fairly average build. Both already looked like little warriors, though. Oilstar stood on the Shiprock, her autumn decor glowing against the sunrise. How strange it was to see her standing in Downstar's spot, overlooking all of RippleClan. And by all, Puddlewhisper meant all of RippleClan; not a single cat had left for patrol yet.

"Stand at the front of the crowd," Puddlewhisper told her kits. She slipped away from Icekit and Pearkit and found an empty spot beside Paleseed, Lavendertwist, and Waspdawn. Icekit and Pearkit stood in front of the Shiprock. RippleClan curved around them like water around a rock. Wildclaw sat at the base of the Shiprock, as was her place as the Clan's new deputy. Another strange sight.

"Apprentice ceremonies are an exciting day in RippleClan," Oilstar began, speaking loud and strong. "This ceremony is especially interesting, because today we don't just ask the young cats before us if they are ready to train. We ask them if they wish to devote themselves to RippleClan." Oilstar stared at Icekit and Pearkit as she spoke her next words. "Icekit, Pearkit, you both joined RippleClan under tense circumstances. We didn't expect your birth mother to return, especially not as a SlugClan warrior. I can't continue this ceremony without apologizing to you both. RippleClan killed your father, Achilles, and drove your mother to flee and leave you behind. We have tried to earn your forgiveness, but we cannot keep you here if your heart calls for you to join your mother and sister in SlugClan."

"We want to stay here, Oilstar," Icekit yowled, nearly interuppting Oilstar. "I don't care how I ended up here. This is my home." A few cats cheered at Icekit's proud declaration, Lavendertwist among them. Waspdawn touched his nose to Puddlewhisper's pelt, pressing congratulations through her skin.

"Pearkit, you share this perspective?" Oilstar asked.

"Yes," Pearkit said. Her voice collapsed under her with another, louder cheer from RippleClan.

"Save the cheers for later!" Oilstar laughed as Icekit and Pearkit squirmed under the attention. "We have a ceremony to conduct! Usually I learn what path a kit's paws call them down before we gather, but there were other matters to settle. Icekit, Pearkit, what do you want to train as?"

"I want to be a teacher!" Icekit declared just as Pearkit tried to talk. "It's such a new role. I want the other Clans to have teachers too!"

"I want to know how the world works," Pearkit quickly added. "Can I train as a historian?"

"I have the perfect mentors for both of you," Oilstar purred. "Icekit, Pearkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. Icekit, Pearkit, until you earn your full names, you shall be known as Icepaw and Pearpaw." Icepaw and Pearpaw seemed to glow with the power of their new names. "Icepaw, you will be apprenticed under Shrewflame."

"I get an apprentice!" Shrewflame shoved through the crowd, his whole body vibrating and his paws suspiciously stained with orange paint. Wildclaw hid a chuckle as Shrewflame touched his nose to Icepaw's.

"Pearpaw, you will be apprenticed under Whiteflower," Oilstar declared. Whiteflower left the crowd with far more grace than his older brother. He too had orange paint on his white paws.

"I'll do my best," Whiteflower purred as he touched noses with Pearpaw.

"Icepaw! Pearpaw! Icepaw! Pearpaw!" RippleClan cried. Puddlewhisper cheered from the bottom of her lungs.

"Let's tour the territory before the artisans realized we touched their paint supplies," Shrewflame whispered, nudging Icepaw along.

"We'll see you soon, Mom!" Pearpaw cheered as she and Whiteflower hurried after their brothers. They streaked ahead of the pair and managed to get out of camp first. Puddlewhisper waved goodbye as the Clan dissolved into relieved chuckles and grateful purrs. They were gaining two apprentices rather than losing two kits that day.

"Puddlewhisper!" As the Clan set about their duties for the day, Oilstar hopped off the Shiprock and joined Puddlewhisper and her littermates. "I need you to take Venturedapple and Wolfgaze to the border. SlugClan's expecting a patrol."

"Oilstar, Puddlewhisper shouldn't go," Waspdawn huffed, flicking his ear to catch the leader's attention. "She's Icepaw and Pearpaw's mother. SlugClan will be furious with her. Let me lead the patrol."

"Lettucestar wants this handled as much as we do," Oilstar sighed, shaking her head. "I want Puddlewhisper to face SlugClan so we all can have good relations again. They shouldn't see Puddlewhisper as a kit thief, and we shouldn't hide her like one."

"Not to doubt Puddlewhisper," Lavendertwist added, scratching an itch under his collar, "but maybe the three of us can at least come with? I don't really trust SlugClan to handle this well."

"They might behave better with a mediator around, too," Paleseed pointed out.

"If you're all so nervous about it," Oilstar said, "you can go with. Just don't make this seem like a war patrol, please? We've had enough injuries from the other Clans lately."

With a few quick stretches and a call to Venturedapple and Wolfgaze, Puddlewhisper's patrol was off for the border. As they left camp, Puddlewhisper spotted her kits and their mentors lingering along the southern coast. They splashed in the shallow salt water, laughing like kits. Puddlewhisper's heart warmed. Perhaps young mentors would make Icepaw and Pearpaw's lives feel a bit more normal. They deserved normalcy.

"They fell in a heap to claw the mud," Lavendertwist sang as the patrol pressed through the bright green forest, "that dyed their muzzles and pelts in rud, tunnelled until the ground bore blood, with all the blowflies swarming."

"Are you really singing 'Quiet Jaypaw' on a day like this?" Waspdawn sighed, unable to hide a hint of mild amusement despite how he shook his head.

"'Quiet Jaypaw'?" Venturedapple muttered from the back of the patrol.

"A creepy song about a roguehearted apprentice," Puddlewhisper hummed.

"Silverpaw used to love that song!" Wolfgaze laughed, jogging up to Lavendertwist's side.

"Ripplefern and I learned it from a SlugClan apprentice when we were young," Lavendertwist chuckled. "It feels like… the right song for the moment. You remember the main part, Wolfgaze?"

"Where, o where is quiet Jaypaw?" Wolfgaze sang, lacking the same skilled voice as Lavendertwist but sharing in the heart of the song. "Quiet Jaypaw can't be saved."

"Where, o where is quiet Jaypaw?" Lavendertwist joined Wolfgaze in the song. "Quiet Jaypaw, quiet grave." Lavendertwist and Wolfgaze laughed as they finished, earning an eyeroll from Venturedapple and a hidden purr from Waspdawn. Puddlewhisper hummed the melody under her breath, yet her gut twinged. Would she want the bearers of bad news approaching a meeting like this in song? Yet as Lavendertwist started the next verse, he glanced at Puddlewhisper, hesitating through the first line. Ah. So that was the reason.

"Poked at the grave 'til it bared its bones," Puddlewhisper hummed along with the two singers, "it bared its bones, it bared its bones, it bared its bones, poked at the grave 'til it bared its bones, the crows call out their warning."

"Finches and warblers, gray catbirds," Paleseed joined in, "With twisted beaks and eyes all blurred, feathers as red as a fox's fur—"

"Savage and painted and warring," Waspdawn muttered. Lavendertwist, Wolgaze, and Paleseed cheered at Waspdawn's voice. Puddlewhisper decided she would have to teach her kits that song. The chorus replaced Puddlewhisper's dread as the patrol (sans Venturedapple, who stared bug-eyed and confused) trekked through the brightening forest.

The patrol beat SlugClan to the border where RippleClan, WheatClan, and AshClan met, but only by a little. Puddlewhisper barely had time to find a sundappled rock to rest upon before shapes slipped through the trees. Lighttrail was at the front, with one of SlugClan's mediators at his side. But the molly everyone expected and dreaded to see plunged past them, blue eyes sparkling.

"Are they here?" Nimblestep gulped, skidding to a stop at the edge of RippleClan territory. She scanned the large patrol, but her ears dipped lower and lower as she saw no small bodies in the crowd.

"Icepaw and Pearpaw," Waspdawn sighed, clearing his throat, "have decided to stay in RippleClan." Nimblestep contnued to search the patrol, but her face fell further and further.

"I can't say I'm surprised," Lighttrail muttered.

"They are still looking forward to meeting you, Nimblestep," Paleseed quickly interjected, trying to catch Nimblestep's fluttering attention. "They can explain their perspectives at the Gathering."

"What do I tell Quickpaw?" Nimblestep gulped. Her wide eyes focused on Puddlewhisper, who sat calmly in the center of the RippleClan patrol. "What did you tell them about me?"

"They know you care," Puddlewhisper said, picking her words carefully. "You still hurt them, though." Puddlewhisper risked moving closer as Nimblestep's breathing tightened. "You left them for dead, and made them fear for their lives with that patrol. I'm sorry, but you'll have to live with that."

"None of this would have happened if RippleClan weren't a group of foxhearts!" Nimblestep hissed. "You caused this! You took my family from me!"

It was simple hopefulness that kept Puddlewhisper so close to Nimblestep as the brown molly's lips curled and her claws glinted in the dappled morning light. But it was the echo of her words that kept Puddlewhisper from running as Nimblestep pounced on her. Her fangs instantly sunk into Puddlewhisper's tail, as though trying to bite straight through.

"Nimblestep, stop!" Lighttrail barked as every cat, SlugClan and RippleClan, converged on the furious mother. As Puddlewhisper tried to save her tail, however, Nimblestep's furious shaking stopped. Her jaw froze around Puddlewhisper's tail, still digging into her skin, blood still blooming around her fangs, but no longer applying active pressure. She wasn't even breathing. As Puddlewhisper suspected, Wolfgaze stood behind her, green eyes burning with star-given power. Puddlewhisper's body went numb as she looked into Wolfgaze's eyes.

"So this is the Rule of Three in action," Lighttrail muttered, backing away from Nimblestep, eyes locked on Wolfgaze. Waspdawn and Lavendertwist pried Nimblestep's frozen mouth off Puddlewhisper's tail. Puddlewhisper scrambled back, her blood burning. Paleseed swooped around her sister and groomed her pulsing wound. Waspdawn and Lavendertwist shoved Nimblestep back over the border. Wolfgaze broke her supernatural connection. Nimblestep's wide jaw snapped shut on empty air. She startled, tumbling back into the SlugClan mediator.

"Go home, now," Waspdawn growled. "The apprentices made their decision. That's the end of it." Waspdawn joined Puddlewhisper as Paleseed helped her to her paws. Puddlewhisper cradled her numb tail to her side.

"You are witches," Nimblestep hissed as Lighttrail pushed her back toward SlugClan. "Achilles was right. RippleClan is full of witches! This is all your fault!" Another strong shove from Lighttrail silenced the grieving mother. The small SlugClan patrol stumbled back to their territory, prizeless.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Lavendertwist muttered, glaring at the retreating cats.

"Let's get Puddlewhisper to the clerics," Venturedapple said, quietly taking the lead back home.

"Don't tell my kits yet," Puddlewhisper hissed through gritted teeth. "Let them enjoy their first day out of camp."

"StarClan knows what sort of wicked thoughts Nimblestep would have taught those kits," Wolfgaze grumbled as the patrol followed Venturedapple. Puddlewhisper focused her energy on the pain in her tail, but her thoughts still spun. Cruel or not, just or not, Nimblestep was right.

RippleClan destroyed her family.

(Puddlewhisper: 62, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)

(Paleseed: 62, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

(Pearpaw: 6, female, historian apprentice, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories)

(Icepaw: 6, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Oilstar: 100, female, leader, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Shrewflame: 20, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)

(Whiteflower: 13, male, historian, faithful, great kitsitter)

(Waspdawn: 62, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Lavendertwist: 62, male, historian, playful, great singer, good storyteller)

(Venturedapple: 84, male, codekeeper, cold, eloquent speaker)

(Wolfgaze: 31, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)

Dovepaw gets to train as a warrior under Wolverineheart. Scaleripple takes all the new apprentices training and discovers he really likes teaching. He asks Thundergale and Shrewflame to help him be a teacher.

[Image ID: Scaleripple guides Pearpaw, Icepaw, and Dovepaw (now in a tall apprentice sprite) through a hunter's crouch. Under Dovepaw, it says LEVEL UP! DOVEKIT → DOVEPAW, IMPULSIVE → OBLIVIOUS. Scaleripple says, "Crouch like this…" Under him, it says LEVEL UP! FORMIDABLE FIGHTER → UNUSUALLY STRONG FIGHTER.]

(Pearpaw: 6, female, historian apprentice, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories)

(Icepaw: 6, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Dovepaw: 6, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, active imagination)

(Scaleripple: 49, male, teacher, lonesome, unusually strong fighter)

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 89, Part 2

The first thing Whitepaw asks to do after being apprenticed to Billowhaze is to collect moss, shocking his mentor.

[Image ID: Whitepaw is now an apprentice. Under him, it reads LEVEL UP! WHITEKIT → WHITEPAW, SKITTISH → NERVOUS.]

(Whitepaw: 6, male, historian apprentice, nervous, active imagination)

Lightningrunner is murdered.

[Image ID: Whitepaw and Shrewflame hurry to Leathermask, Vervaincough, and Puddlewhisper.]

---

While Whitepaw couldn't claim to be as self-assured and skilled as his older brother, or as respected and proud as his adopted mothers, he certainly tried to live up to them. He would groom his long, wild fur and make sure his elders knew he was listening, ears locked and unmoving on them. He would keep an eye on Gingerkit and Frostkit, even though the caretakers insisted it was their job to mind them and Whitepaw could enjoy his last days of kithood. He would make sure he wasn't under anyone's paws or bothering anyone as they worked. There was a lot to do, a lot to protect, and all Whitepaw seemed good at was coming up with new games to pass the time until his ceremony.

Things should have been better with his apprenticeship. He should have found a way to support the Clan that immediately offered their love and support. He should have focused on his new studies, tackling Billowhaze's lessons on science and history with the same fire Shrewflame had in his apprenticeship. He should have been a good apprentice.

None of this should have happened.

Whitepaw seemed to carry the entire beach on his half-wet pelt as he ran after Shrewflame. He looked more cream than white. Even through Shrewflame's legs were equally soaked, the sand didn't slow him down. He bounded toward the shipwreck with an unmatched speed. Whitepaw, meanwhile, struggled to feel his legs. The waves smacked into the shore with a consistent, drum-like beat that pounded deeper and deeper into Whitepaw's head. The water ate the dusting of snow that shrouded the rest of RippleClan territory. The writhing tides ate the sunlight while the snow beyond the shore reflected it onto Whitepaw's back.

"Shrewflame, wait," Whitepaw begged, stumbling over his own paws. "I, I can't keep up!" Shrewflame danced to a stop and turned back to his younger brother. Whitepaw panted, falling back on his flank. He tried to groom the matted sand off his legs, but the dark tan flecks seemed to tangle in his long fur. The salty water stung his mouth and the sand irritated his skin. His tongue raked harder and harder through his pelt, but he couldn't get clean. The weight of it all pulled him deeper into the sand.

"Whitepaw," Shrewflame said softly as Whitepaw whined. It wouldn't come off! "Whitepaw, listen, everything will be alright. I promise you."

"How?" Whitepaw gulped, coughing on sand. "You can't promise anything. You don't know what'll happen next."

"I'm going to keep you safe," Shrewflame huffed. He rested a paw on Whitepaw's head, knocking his tongue away from his obsessive grooming. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Whitepaw. Trust me." Whitepaw nodded without thinking. Shrewflame touched his nose to Whitepaw's head. Whitepaw forced himself to breathe. It was only when Whitepaw could stand still before his brothee that Shrewflame stepped back and continued on the path to RippleClan's camp.

"Don't panic the Clan," Shrewflame warned as he and Whitepaw approached the camp entrance, guarded by Currentsmoke. "Let me handle this." Whitepaw nodded once more. He shivered as he passed through the thorny walls of the entrance. Currentsmoke eyed his soaked, sandy pelt. Shrewflame let his brother enter first, glancing north the way they came.

Whitepaw waited by the camp entrance for Shrewflame, below the stove where Rabbitjoy and Ravenweaver debated what to serve for the sunhigh meal. He could feel eyes on him; Asterblaze and Drumtooth glanced at him while they crafted more tooth-sticks, and Rapidleaf nudged Carnationspeckle from her work fortifying the camp walls as Shrewflame joined Whitepaw. Over by the Shiprock, Puddlewhisper sat with Leathermask and Vervaincough. They seemed focused on their conversation. Shrewflame jogged toward them, Whitepaw hot on his heels. Puddlewhisper's ear perked at the pair's approach.

"Shrewflame?" Puddlewhisper said, cocking her other ear. "What's with that face? I thought you were sparring with Lightningrunner at Battle Beach."

"What happened to you?" Vervaincough asked, peering at Whitepaw's sandy legs.

"Estherfern is with Lightningrunner," Shrewflame whispered, sticking his head in the middle of the three cats. "We need codekeepers. Right now." Leathermask's eyes slowly widened. Puddlewhisper's claws poked into the sand. Vervaincough's breath caught.

"What happened?" Leathermask gulped.

"Just come on," Shrewflame muttered, flicking his tail back to the exit. "Do you want to start a riot or start investigating?"

"Take me to my sister," Puddlewhisper snapped, jumping to her paws. Shrewflame started back to the exit with Puddlewhisper beside him. Leathermask and Vervaincough hurried to follow while Whitepaw scrambled to catch up with his brother.

"Whitepaw, stay here," Shrewflame sighed as Asterblaze and Drumtooth left their task and stalked toward the tense group. "You don't need to go back there. Someone should stay here to explain."

"I want to stay with you," Whitepaw whined softly.

"Just tell them what they need to know," Shrewflame said, straightening up under the growing attention of the Clan. "You'll be alright." Shrewflame didn't wait to finish talking; he continued onto the exit. Nervous energy propelled Puddlewhisper, Vervaincough, and Leathermask after him. Whitepaw's still wet fur dripped onto the sand, forming tiny balls underfoot.

"Whitepaw, you look terrified," Carnationspeckle whined, jogging up to her grandson with Rapidleaf at her side. "You're a mess! What's got you and Shrewflame hurrying into camp like this?"

"I…" Whitepaw gulped. "She…" Tell them what they need to know. I'm going to keep you safe. It's not your fault.

"Maybe start from the beginning," Asterblaze suggested, abandoning his crafts to join the small but growing group. Drumtooth squinted at Whitepaw and the sand glued to his fur. Yes, start from the beginning. Work through the story. Tell them what they need to know.

"Since Mr. Billowhaze is still fighting his allergies," Whitepaw finally gulped, "Shrewflame took me out to spar in the water. Ms. Estherfern joined us to check if we got too cold, and Ms. Lightningrunner asked to come along. Me and Shrewflame were sparring and swimming, and Ms. Lightningrunner was on the shore with Ms. Estherfern. She… Ms. Lightningrunner said she heard something in the trees, and she went to check. When she didn't come back, we got worried, and we followed her, and, and…"

"She's dead," Drumtooth said, voice low and tight. Carnationspeckle's breath tightened. Rapidleaf couldn't stop herself from gasping. Asterblaze tensed. "Lightningrunner's dead, isn't she? You would have brought her back if she was just hurt." Whitepaw begged StarClan to let him sink into the sand. Instead, he closed his eyes and nodded.

The few cats still in the Clan would soon rush about and search for Lightningrunner's siblings, scattered on patrols throughout the territory. They would find Downstar and Oilstripe, grimly informing them that yet another Clanmate had been found dead; this one, they'd soon learn, with a huge and bloody bite on the back of her neck like a sloppy hunt.

For now though, Whitepaw stood in the shock of it all, sand heavy on his legs, images of Lightningrunner frozen against his eyes.

(Whitepaw: 6, male, historian apprentice, nervous, active imagination)

(Shrewflame: 13, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)

(Puddlewhisper: 55, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)

(Vervaincough: 24, female, codekeeper, insecure, understands nature, good mediator)

(Leathermask: 37, male, warrior, nervous, good fighter, eloquent speaker)

(Carnationspeckle: 91, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Asterblaze: 36, male, caretaker, thoughtful, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Drumtooth: 37, trans male, caretaker, loyal, great hunter, clever)

(Rapidleaf: 107, female, warrior, lonesome, prophecy interpreter)

Scaleripple, Anchovystrike, Yellowburst, and Boughfur hear desperate screams coming from the seashore.

[Image ID: Anchovystrike, Yellowburst, Boughfur, and Scaleripple lead an old gray and white tom with yellow eyes along. Under Anchovystrike, it reads LEVEL UP! DEEP STARCLAN BOND → UNSHAKABLE STARCLAN LINK. Under the stranger, it reads NEW PLAYER: WASHINGTON, 217, MALE, NERVOUS, GOOD MEDIATOR, + CONDITION: BROKEN BONE. Under Boughfur, it reads LEVEL UP! GOOD CLIMBER → GREAT CLIMBER.]

---

"I heard Lemmy say the killer bit into her neck twice to make sure she was dead," Brightreed whispered to Wolverineheart in the warrior's den. "It's no wonder Whitepaw's been moping in the apprentice's den. Part of me just wants to hide in camp too!"

"You make it sound like he's just being sour," Wolverineheart huffed. "He's barely started his training. He could have been killed instead of Lightningrunner, you know! He's young, he's allowed to be scared."

"I'm not trying to insult him. I'm saying I'm scared too. Thinking about Lightningrunner makes my scar itch."

"It has to be a RippleClan cat, right? I haven't heard of any foreign scent by Battle Beach."

"I guess. But who would want to kill Lightningrunner?"

"Lightningrunner and Potterypool. You can't expect it to be a coincidence that they both died like that."

"I still don't know who would kill either of them. I don't think we should guess, either. That would be the worst gossip you could share. What are we supposed to do if we can't trust each other?"

"…maybe the killer has a thing for gingers. Oilstripe should watch her back."

"Wolverineheart! Scaleripple is sleeping right over there!"

Scaleripple was not, in fact, sleeping.

Yes, he laid in his nest, carefully barren of any irritating leathers, his graduation gift from Tempestshade carefully tucked by his paws, but Scaleripple was not asleep. His blue eyes were open, but turned away from Wolverineheart and Brightreed's nests. Scaleripple's claws poked at his rattle. He was Lightningrunner's big brother. It was supposed to be his responsibility to protect his little sisters, even though their chatty, gossipy behavior was stranger than what laid in the depths of the ocean. Yet Lightningrunner found her end just beyond RippleClan camp while Scaleripple was tied up in the medicine den with a pounding headache. What was he supposed to do with that? Even though dawn consumed the territory and urged the Clan out of the giant warrior's den and onto their duties, Scaleripple lingered, pretending to catch a little more sleep. What else could he do?

"Scaleripple?" Scaleripple sat up, spooking Wolverineheart and Brightreed. Yellowburst stood outside the warrior's den, tail swaying as she waited. "Are we still going on patrol?" Oh. Right. Downstar wanted Scaleripple to lead a patrol south to clean up the shoreline. The investigation into Lightningrunner's death the day before had to abandon their search for the killer early due to a violent late autumn storm that left the beaches covered in debris. Scaleripple was supposed to lead Anchovystrike, Boughfur, and Yellowburst at dawn. How long had they been waiting for him?

"I'll join you outside camp," Scaleripple promised. Wolverineheart and Brightreed shifted uncomfortably, their dark gossip staining their hearts with guilt. Good. Scaleripple groomed his strange white spots as Yellowburst left his sight. He plucked his jay feathers from his nest and wove them into his tail, focusing on the gentle ritual. Feathers were a good sensation, the opposite of fur and leather. They were a comfort in such dark times. Lightningrunner loved them, and so Scaleripple loved them even more.

Scaleripple left Wolverineheart and Brightreed to wallow in their embarrassment. Yellowburst, Boughfur, and Anchovystrike waited for him by the camp entrance. The sand gently coated the bottom of Scaleripple's paws, still wet from last night's freezing rain. Scaleripple simply flicked his tail for his Clanmates to follow him out into the late dawn.

The coast south of RippleClan camp was riddled with debris. A rotting wolffish stunk up the rocks that formed the southern beaches. Broken wood like the planks that formed the shipwreck floated in the waves and caught against the rocks that stuck out of the foam, watery reflections of the rocks that lined camp. Sticks, grass, and seaweed polluted the usual gray, pristine image of the beach. At least the sky offered a glimpse of peace. The stormclouds broke apart into gray sheets against a yellow sky.

"I think a ship sunk," Boughfur noted as the patrol approached the beach. "I've never seen so much wood on the shoreline before. We should bring it back to camp! There are a lot of planks on the shipwreck that could be replaced. Who knows, maybe we can open up space for another den in there!"

"Yellowburst," Anchovystrike chuckled. He hopped across the rocks to the beached wolffish. He hooked his paw under the wolffish's jaw. "Wouldn't it be funny to take this back to camp and claim it was Wolfgaze's reflection?" Yellowburst snickered with Anchovystrike.

"This isn't the day for jokes," Scaleripple huffed. His tone had more bite than he expected. Anchovystrike dropped the fish. Yellowburst crept away to the debris. Distant seabirds filled the silence that followed.

"Scaleripple, we'll tear our fur out if we don't unwind," Anchovystrike pointed out. "There's nothing any of us can do about… you know. Let's just clean up the beach and try to keep the mood light." Scaleripple hummed under his breath. Boughfur and Yellowburst shared an awkward glance.

"Why don't Yellowburst and I collect the usable wood and make a pile?" Boughfur suggested when Scaleripple refused to give an actual response. "We can have Mitespark and Venturedapple carry them home later."

"Go ahead," Scaleripple said, hopping down to the beach. He grabbed a chunk of grass and dragged it to the treeline where the mice and squirrels could use it for nesting material. Anchovystrike dug a hole to bury the dead wolffish. Boughfur and Yellowburst quietly debated the best way to carry the heavier planks out of the rocks and onto solid ground. Scaleripple tuned them out, ears pricked to the eager waves at his side.

As Scaleripple worked, his thoughts drifted back to his family. What was he supposed to do for them? He wanted to protect them, but was that feeling any stronger than his desire to protect everyone in RippleClan? What would Tempestshade have thought of the last moon? Did Oilstripe or Troutpool ever see their spirit wandering camp, checking in on their littermates or sitting beside Scaleripple? Scaleripple couldn't help but sneer at the thought of how RippleClan would treat Tempestshade if they were still alive. Would the Clan blame them for Potterypool or Lightningrunner's deaths?

Scaleripple paused with a large chunk of seaweed in his mouth. His pelt prickled as old memories of Tempestshade's mistreatment itched at his chest. He knew the cats in his Clan were good cats, or at least tried to be. Yet it seemed that even the wiser among them still gave into superstition and overcaution. They avoided being alone with Tempestshade. They didn't know how to spend time with Scaleripple without sharing tongues. Scaleripple even saw how cats like Carnationspeckle and Elmsprout flinched when Yarrowclaw raised her voice, as though any sign of overeagerness was a step away from the brown and white molly dissolving into madness. Wasn't there something Scaleripple could do for cats like that? The only answer he received was the gentle churning of the ocean and far-off, feral screaming.

Wait. Screaming?

Scaleripple stared out into the sea. Larger planks and chunks of a now sunken ship bobbed along the water. Some pieces had bright swaths of paint splashed over the wood, turning the planks green and yellow. One large bicolored wreck tumbled with the waves. A soaked gray and white cat clung to the wood, claws embedded in their one saving grace. Bleary yellow eyes stared at Scaleripple and the RippleClan patrol. The drowned cat screeched with all the strength they had left as a wave splashed over their makeshift raft.

Scaleripple didn't realize he was running until he plunged into the icy ocean, salt stinging his eyes. His feathers floated to the yellowish-gray surface. He breached the water with a large gasp. The drowning cat was a few bear-lengths away. Scaleripple paddled, letting the ebb carry him closer to the stranger and pushing against the flow.

"Careful, Scaleripple!" Boughfur yowled from the shore just as Scaleripple reached the ocean's victim. He could barely smell the stranger's tom-scent through the salt. The stranger's soaked tail smacked Scaleripple's face. Scaleripple shivered so violently, he almost slipped under the raft. Yet that gave him an idea. He paddled around the drowning tom and shoved his head against the broken, ragged edge. The raft rolled toward the shore, even as the water pushed it every other way. Scaleripple's head hurt with the raft's pressure, but it was better than someone else's wet fur against his skin.

Anchovystrike scrambled into the water. As the ocean floor climbed to meet the surface, the pressure of the waves eased. Yellowburst splashed beside Anchovystrike. She grabbed the edge of the raft and stabilized it. Anchovystrike grabbed the terrified tom by the scruff and lifted him onto the rocks. Scaleripple shoved the raft aside and crawled to dry land.

Now that the salt wasn't blinding Scaleripple, he could better see just who he rescued. The tom was old; his white chin was coated in aged gray and his eyes sagged. Had he not been soaked clean through, he would have been a fluffy old tom. He coughed up water and shivered hard enough to spray the warriors surrounding him.

"You're on dry land," Anchovystrike promised as Yellowburst licked the tom's fur the wrong way. "You've landed in RippleClan territory."

"The crew," the old tom croaked, staring back at the sea. "The ship! The storm!"

"We have cats who can take care of you," Yellowburst said, coughing out wet hair. The old tom's eyes shook, mouth half open and ears pushed back.

"They're gone," he moaned. "They're all gone."

"Were there other cats on your ship?" Boughfur asked. "Maybe they washed up somewhere else along the coast."

"Not cats," the tom whined. "My humans. I caught rats for them. They're gone! They're sunk!" He pushed himself off the rocks, but his back right leg gave out under him. He yowled, spasming as he smacked back onto the rocks.

"That looks broken," Scaleripple muttered as Anchovystrike and Yellowburst hurried to help.

"We could make a splint from all this wood," Boughfur realized, dragging over a small plank. "That should help him walk back to camp. Let me go find something to tie it on." Boughfur adjusted the dry flowers in her fur and hurried off to the forest. Scaleripple stared at the shipwrecked tom as he clawed at the stones, moaning. Loving humans, those strange, unknowable beacons of intelligence and craft, did not seem much different from how Scaleripple loved his family, or how they loved him.

"What's your name?" Scaleripple asked the soaked tom. The tom swallowed his grief and blinked saltwater out of his eyes.

"They named me Washington," he sighed. Scaleripple nodded softly, shoulders tense.

"I'm sorry, Washington," Scaleripple said.

For what else could be said? What else could be done?

(Brightreed: 21, male, warrior, righteous, student of art)

(Wolverineheart: 21, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)

(Scaleripple: 42, male, warrior, lonesome, formidable fighter)

(Yellowburst: 20, female, caretaker, adventurous, good mediator)

(Boughfur: 21, female, historian, righteous, great climber)

(Anchovystrike: 24, male, warrior, playful, unshakable StarClan link)

(Washington: 217, male, elder, nervous, good mediator)

[rippleclan]

Asterpaw and Gentlestar!

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 90, Part 2

Despite fighting his infection, Waspdawn puts the pieces together regarding recent events and confronts his culprit.

[Image ID: Waspdawn says to Oilstripe "Before we do anything, I need to talk to her. I need to understand. Can you be my backup, Oilstripe?"]

Potterypool killed Achilles. At least, she helped, if what Vervaincough and Venturedapple reported was true. It would explain the long brown fur found in her wounds. But Achilles could not have killed Potterypool or Lightningrunner. There was someone else involved. And as Waspdawn thought it through, the faceless spirit that haunted RippleClan over the course of an entire moon began to speak its name.

"I'm not sure you're well enough for this, Waspdawn," Oilstripe muttered as Waspdawn bit an itch just under his bandages. It hurt whenever the tip of his tail touched anything, and his fever came and went, but he still stood in the leader's den with Oilstripe, explaining his theory as night began to fall.

"It's a conversation," Waspdawn huffed. "If she puts up a fight, there are plenty of souls in camp to help me."

"We should just send Wolfgaze to fetch her," Oilstripe sighed, peering around Waspdawn and into the snowy camp. "She can freeze her and bring her for questioning."

"I need to be sure," Waspdawn grunted, moving back in front of his deputy. "Before we do anything, I need to talk to her. I need to understand. Can you be my backup, Oilstripe?" Oilstripe stared at something to Waspdawn's side. A spirit? He could only guess when Oilstripe's eyes wandered. If it was Potterypool or Lightningrunner's ghosts, maybe they could just confirm Waspdawn's accusations and they would all be done with it. But that wasn't how Oilstripe's powers worked, was it?

"She's on Downstar's hunting patrol," Oilstripe finally sighed. "It's nearly last light. They should be back soon. I'll let you have your confrontation, but I'm stepping in the moment she tries to run. Do you understand?" Waspdawn nodded deeply, chin touching his chest. Oilstripe sighed again, shaking out her inner fury.

The two cats left Downstar's den, eyes sharpening with the brilliant glow of the camp's bonfire. Oilstripe paced around the Shiprock, but Waspdawn lingered close to the nursery. Deep within the warm den, Puddlewhisper laid with her back to the world. Waspdawn could hear the gentle sniffles and shuffles of his new niece and nephew inside, hidden at his sister's belly. Barely a day together, and Puddlewhisper seemed perfectly content with the pair. Try as he might, the same warmth that filled his chest when Gingerpaw and Frostpaw were born simply wasn't there this time. These kits were meant for a different life, a life stolen from them by not just their selfish mother but by Potterypool and the culprit that would soon return home. Those kits deserved an answer to the question of their lives.

As the last creeping vines of sunlight snaked deeper into the forest and out of sight, Downstar entered the camp, a large fish in her jaws. Her fluffy pelt stuck up at odd angles, damp from saltwater. Oilstripe and Waspdawn jogged to meet her.

"Remind me to bring Drumtooth on more rafting patrols," Downstar purred, gently setting her salty catch down. "He's a natural diver." Drumtooth and Asterblaze, both as damp as their leader, whipped around Downstar, Oilstripe, and Waspdawn with their own catches, quickly placing them on the fresh-kill pile and racing for the bonfire. Downstar's good mood dimmed as the expressions on Oilstripe and Waspdawn's faces sunk in.

"I'll explain over here," Oilstripe muttered as the culprit crept between the thorns lining the camp entrance, her pelt perfectly dry, her yellow collar standing out like a sunbeam with the fire's glow. Waspdawn forced his eyes to soften as Oilstripe guided Downstar to the side of camp.

"Lemmy," Waspdawn said casually. "Good hunting?"

"You'll have to thank Drumtooth, not me," Lemmy sighed with a dismissive twitch of her whiskers. "I stayed on shore and made sure the raft didn't capsize." She moved as though about to walk past Waspdawn, but paused and stared closer at him. "You seem tense." Her own face dropped, ever so slightly. "Something happened to Mosspounce."

"No, no," Waspdawn stammered, quickly shaking his head. "No, Mosspounce is alright, he was sharing tongues with Washington when I last saw him." Lemmy's prickly fur relaxed. "No, I just wanted to talk to you, in private. Can we sit at the Resting Place?"

"If you need to," Lemmy hummed, stretching her back out. "Let's make this quick, though. I'm ready to sleep." Lemmy strolled back out of the camp. Waspdawn glanced at Oilstripe and Downstar. The former whispered in the latter's ear, relaying everything Waspdawn had told her. Downstar's mouth drooped open, ears twitching in tiny movements as she absorbed the truth of it all. Waspdawn left them to their revelation and followed Lemmy to the log outside of camp.

The Resting Place was covered in snow, but imprints of lounging cats marked its surface. Lemmy sat with her tail dangling off the log, waiting for her fellow codekeeper. Waspdawn jumped up and sat beside her. He grit his teeth when his tail rested against the decaying wood.

"Should you be out here with your tail?" Lemmy asked.

"Like you said, this will be quick," Waspdawn said, swallowing the pain. He settled his gaze on the dark sea. "We learned that Achilles is dead today. I don't think you've had a chance to hear." Lemmy flicked an ear.

"It's better for all of us that he's gone," Lemmy said. "I knew him well. You would never have convinced him you weren't a threat to the Other Side. He could have attacked us at any time."

"I won't deny that," Waspdawn said. "Do you want to know how he died, Lemmy?" Lemmy flicked an ear again. She matched Waspdawn's cold stare into the freezing ocean beyond. "A witness told us Potterypool killed him. Not alone, though. We didn't get to hear much else, but do you want to hear my theory?" Lemmy stayed still this time. Waspdawn shifted his gaze to the tortoiseshell killer. "I think Potterypool did kill Achilles. She killed him because you asked for her help. And then you killed her."

Lemmy said nothing. Her tail dusted snow off the Resting Place. A boreal owl hooted somewhere in the forest. The wind echoed in Waspdawn's ears. His tail was no longer his biggest source of pain.

"Here's what I think happened," Waspdawn said. "You were out of camp at the same time as Potterypool. You met along the river, likely by coincidence. At that time, you saw either Nimble or Achilles. If Venturedapple knew who Nimble was, I assume you'd know her from stories at least. Nimble built her kitting nest not far from the river, and she was close to her mate. It would make sense for both of them to make camp and hunt along the river. Regardless of which cat you saw, you decided it wasn't safe for the Clan to have Achilles at our border. Potterypool agreed. So you both crossed the river and hunted Achilles down.

"Potterypool took the brunt of Achilles' attacks, as her wounds tell us. Eventually, though, you both killed him. But Nimble was watching. I think Potterypool realized Nimble was pregnant and regretted taking a father from his kits. She was going to confess your shared murder, but you disagreed. You argued, and it escalated until Potterypool was dead at your paws." Waspdawn sneered as he talked. "You buried her in hopes no one would find out, and you cleaned yourself off before you returned to camp, as though nothing happened.

"But you still weren't safe. Lightningrunner was out of camp too. I think she saw something, likely the burial. She didn't realize what she saw until later, she may not have fully understood, even then. That's because I believe she spoke to you about it in private, and you knew you had to silence her. So you tracked her to Battle Beach and ambushed her when she was alone! Tell me I'm wrong, Lemmy!"

Lemmy didn't respond for a while. Waspdawn's claws poked through the snow.

"You're wrong," Lemmy said. Waspdawn held his breath. "I didn't kill Lightningrunner. I had no part in that. But Potterypool…" Lemmy sunk off the Resting Place. She sighed deeply. "I couldn't let Achilles hurt anyone else in RippleClan. He nearly killed your brother. His death was justified, but Potterypool didn't understand. It all went too far. I'm… sorry, Waspdawn."

"If you're sorry," Waspdawn growled, voice struggling not to spike, "then you'll come with me and face trial for both of their murders. You don't get to deny Lightningrunner's death. You can't hide your ruthlessness."

"You're an intelligent cat, Waspdawn," Lemmy huffed. "You figured out nearly everything that unfolded with Potterypool. But Lightningrunner? Your story is just that. A story. You have no proof she and I ever interacted."

"She had a conversation with Mosspounce, it stuck with her," Waspdawn snapped. "She realized what she saw."

"You're searching for an easy way out," Lemmy snapped back. "If I killed Lightningrunner, where was my scent? I was hunting that day. Do you think I found the time to catch a fish and kill Lightningrunner, all the while escaping her patrol?"

"If you're sorry for Potterypool's death," Waspdawn hissed, jumping off the Resting Place, "then why aren't you sorry for killing my sister?"

"Take me prisoner," Lemmy growled, sitting with her tail over her unseathed claws. "You found me out, and I won't run from it. I'll tell the truth. I'll take my punishment. I know what I did was wrong. I'll tell it all at my trial, whether you like what I have to say or not."

The moments after that blurred in Waspdawn's memory. Escorting Lemmy to the quarantine den, gathering her family, informing the codekeepers… it all happened in a flicker of light, the flap of a wing. Had Waspdawn done it? Had be outed the Clanmate who had his sister's blood on her paws?

Or was Lemmy, for the first time in a moon, telling the entire truth?

(Waspdawn: 56, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Oilstripe: 94, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Puddlewhisper: 56, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)

(Downstar: 149, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Lemmy: 66, female, codekeeper, cold, deep StarClan bond, good mediator)

Honeybuzz and Estherfern ask Lemmy for a favor.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Estherfern approach Lemmy.]

---

Lemmy asked for no visitors. One of the few things she dared to ask of RippleClan now. What could she say to her mate, to her daughters and her friends? She would say it all at her trial and face her execution with dignity.

It had been a few days since the truth came out, at least what Waspdawn declared to be the truth. She had been caught, that was true, but Lightningrunner's blood did not stain her fangs. That murderer was still out there. She owed it to RippleClan to make them see that. For now, though, in the late night before her grand trial, she stayed under guard in the quarantine den, eyes closed, yet not asleep. Simply waiting.

Soft voices outside the den stirred her from her few thoughts. She opened one eye. Honeybuzz and Estherfern stood outside, speaking with Rapidleaf and Brightreed. Lemmy couldn't hear their words. She turned with her back to the newcomers, tucking her face into the worn moss of her prisoner's nest.

"How is this den so cold?" Honeybuzz asked, shivering as he and Estherfern entered the den. "We keep patients here! We can't let it get this chilly!"

"Focus," Estherfern huffed. Their pawsteps grew closer. Lemmy could feel their breath on her back.

"Is this some sort of death rite?" Lemmy sighed, giving into their presence. She sat up, her collar twisting against her neck. To her surprise, she could no longer see Rapidleaf and Brightreed's vague forms outside.

"You're not going to be executed," Honeybuzz insisted, sitting beside the damned molly's nest. "Downstar just brought it up because—"

"Because I won't admit to a murder I didn't commit," Lemmy huffed, lips curling. "My story will be the same at the trial. I am not Lightningrunner's killer."

"We're trying to help you, you stupid kit," Estherfern suddenly spat, matching Lemmy's expression.

"Do you care about justice or a simple solution?" Lemmy snapped. Her whiskers nearly touched Estherfern's as the two mollies growled at each other.

"You're not the only cat we're trying to help, Lemmy," Honeybuzz hissed, forcing himself between her and Estherfern. Estherfern huffed and sat in the remnants of an old nest. Honeybuzz's cicada wing necklace bounced against his chest as he settled back down. "Now, can you please listen to us? The rest of the Clan thinks we're here to help you clear your conscience. We know you didn't kill Lightningrunner, but we need you to admit to it anyway." Lemmy stared unblinking at Honeybuzz. Honeybuzz met her intensity and raised it, desperation mixed into his natural confidence.

"The Clan is in danger so long as her true killer is out there," Lemmy growled. "Lightningrunner was killed from behind, without mercy. Why would I protect them?"

"You don't know the full story," Estherfern muttered.

"The Clan thinks you're guilty now," Honeybuzz explained before Lemmy could probe Estherfern's ominous statement, "but if you insist on your innocence with Lightningrunner's death, eventually cats will start asking questions again. For the good of the Clan, we can't have them ask questions. It would shatter families. I don't want anyone else to go through what my family is feeling." While it was far from the first time guilt gripped her guts, a new regret itched inside of Lemmy. She stole Honeybuzz's sister from him, yet Honeybuzz didn't call for Lemmy's blood to stain the forest floor like Vervaincough and Halibutdusk had upon the reveal.

"Who killed her, then?" Lemmy asked softly. Honeybuzz glanced at Estherfern. The old brown cleric nodded. Then Honeybuzz said a name, the last name Lemmy could ever imagine tearing into the back of Lightningrunner's neck.

"Whitepaw."

(Lemmy: 66, female, codekeeper, cold, deep StarClan bond, good mediator)

(Honeybuzz: 38, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Estherfern: 124, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 101

Icepaw and Pearbranch learn that Nimblestep has died. They are unsure how to feel.

[Image ID: Troutpool speaks with Icepaw and Pearbranch. Under her, it says + NEW SKILL: GOOD CLIMBER.]

"Caretakers and warriors can be called upon to sit guard over cats who could prove a danger to themselves or others," Icepaw explained, digging into his memories. "If someone is in the medicine den because of a condition of the mind, it's better to keep them around others than isolate them because… they heal better knowing they aren't alone."

"That sounds right to me!" Pearbranch chirped, resting her head on Midnightpaw's empty nest. "You'll be able to help a lot of mediator apprentices in the future!"

"I'm glad I don't have to do the work, though," Icepaw groaned. He rubbed his paws over his muzzle, chin resting on the exposed sandy floor of the apprentice's den. The Clan didn't have enough leather flooring after the Ocean's Assault to line the apprentice's den yet. Most of the camp was back to normal, with fresh materials forming the once wrecked roofs and debris cleaned out. Still, with Pearbranch enjoying her new nest by Puddlewhisper, Midnightpaw sleeping in the medicine den, and Valleypaw… well, the apprentice's den was pretty lonely.

At least Pearbranch was willing to keep him company so late in the night. The pair whispered in the quiet of the apprentice's den while the rest of RippleClan enjoyed the restored warrior's den. They could hear Rattlepelt working on crafts in the light of the central bonfire, tended by Asterblaze. Icepaw wondered if the pair were helping each other. He hoped so.

"Do you have another headache?" Pearbranch asked.

"Just tired," Icepaw muttered, moving his paws.

"You can practice in the morning if you want to sleep," Pearbranch hummed. She slowly got to her paws, but Icepaw smacked her down.

"Come on, we haven't been able to sit together since your ceremony," Icepaw huffed. "We haven't even…" Icepaw glanced out of the den, just in case Rattlepelt and Asterblaze were close enough to hear.

"We haven't seen Quickpaw since before the flood," Pearbranch finished Icepaw's thought.

"I should be practicing these lessons with her," Icepaw said.

"We—" Pearbranch said, but the sound of soft paws pushing against the sand choked out the conversation. Icepaw and Pearbranch's ears perked. Icepaw forgot it was the half-moon; the clerics were back from their meeting at StarClan's Shrine.

"If Burdockcreek thinks I should visit the human settlement," Estherfern sighed, entering camp with Gingerspring on her tail, "then I'll go to the human settlement."

"Let me come with you," Gingerspring chirped. "I can help you avoid the humans!"

"We'll see," Estherfern muttered, making her way to the medicine den. Weevilsight and Honeybuzz entered next, both quiet and lost in thought. Their gazes caught onto Icepaw and Pearbranch as they passed. Icepaw's neck prickled. When Troutpool entered camp, rather than following her fellow clerics to sleep, she drifted to the apprentice's den.

"I'm glad you two are awake," Troutpool sighed. "I was hoping to see you." Pearbranch sat at Icepaw's side, quiet and attentive, just like they were kits in the nursery, focused on their mother's gentle explanation of their past. Troutpool had the same strained look on her face as Puddlewhisper all those moons ago.

"What's wrong," Icepaw huffed. Troutpool's eyes searched for the best place to begin.

"SlugClan has been facing a yellowcough outbreak," Troutpool explained slowly. "I spoke with their cleric, Mushroomstripe, and she had some news you need to hear." Troutpool squirmed as she gathered her courage. "There's no easy way to say this, but Nimblestep caught yellowcough after the last Gathering. She passed away last night."

Huh. She was dead. Icepaw blinked. Should he… mourn? How should he react to something like that? Was Troutpool expecting something specific from him? She stared intently at Icepaw and Pearbranch, waiting. Waiting for what? Pearbranch's ears dipped. Should Icepaw act sad? He didn't really feel sad. He only saw Nimblestep at the few Gatherings he'd ever attended and… sat through what conversation he felt required to sit through. What was Icepaw feeling? What should he feel?

"Was it peaceful?" Pearbranch asked quietly.

"I'm not sure," Troutpool sighed, dipping her head. "I'm sorry. I can tell Paleseed about this in the morning, if you want to talk through this with someone."

"No thanks," Icepaw said. He realized that wasn't the appropriate thing to say when Troutpool blinked hard, unable to mask her surprise.

"If you're sure," Troutpool gulped. "I'm sorry you found out this way. Mushroomstripe also had a message from Quickpaw for you."

"How is she?" Pearbranch gulped, standing.

"Mushroomstripe just said that Quickpaw wants to see you," Troutpool sighed. "I'll make sure Oilstar takes you both to the next Gathering. Again, I'm so sorry I'm the one to tell you." Troutpool floundered for a moment, unsure what else she could say to the brother-sister pair. Eventually, she slunk after her fellow clerics, leaving Icepaw and Pearbranch softly illuminated by the bonfire a few fox-lengths away. Dread creeped into Icepaw's chest.

"You know what Quickpaw means by that," Icepaw muttered, catching Pearbranch's eyes. "Pearbranch, she's waiting for us."

"You know," Pearbranch gulped, "we don't have to crawl over the dirtplace wall anymore. I'm a historian now. I can leave whenever I want."

"And take an apprentice with you?" Icepaw chuckled, paws itching.

Nothing more had to be said. The pair hurried to the camp exit. Elmsprout sat guard outside and eyed Icepaw sharply when he appeared. Yet Pearbranch held her tail high and refused to hestitate. She escorted her brother around the night guard. As soon as their paws touched the crunchy autumn grass, their restless energy erupted.

Their blue eyes were wide and honed in on the glimmers of the half-moon through the shrouded sky. They did not watch their paws for twigs or leaves that had yet to fade to dust from the pressure of rain and life. There was nothing to hunt that night, and nothing to be hunted by. Only a destination and a pair of brown eyes waiting there.

"I hope she hasn't gone back to camp," Pearbranch gulped as the pungent smell of the WheatClan/AshClan border hit Icepaw's nose.

"She'll be there," Icepaw promised. After all, wouldn't Icepaw and Pearbranch wait until dawn if Puddlewhisper had passed? Icepaw slowed as they crossed the border. The scent of the RippleClan clerics still floated along the scent markers, a path of safe travel to the rest of the Clans. Icepaw took the lead and trailed along that scent path. Pearbranch's nose brushed his tail at times, a reminder that the night had not claimed her.

The conifers thickened and the grass grew greener, a sign of moisture perpetually clinging to the mud underneath. Icepaw forced himself not to cringe; it was worse than chunky sand sinking between his pads. How could Quickpaw stand it? Icepaw shoved the disgusting sensation deep into his thoughts, dragging up the most important questions of the night; was Quickpaw okay? Icepaw got his answer as he and Pearbranch arrived at their secret meeting place.

[Image ID: Icepaw and Peabranch sit next to Quickpaw. Quickpaw says, "I… could think about it."]

Now, it wasn't really "secret" by any means. It was just past the boundary of WheatClan, AshClan, and SlugClan; an old wolverine den, protected by roots as thick as Icepaw's legs. Although the wolverine had been gone for moons upon moons, its scent still clung to the mud, masking RippleClan scent from any who didn't expect to find it there. It was the perfect place for littermates to meet outside of Gatherings and pre-arranged meetings along the border. As Icepaw and Pearbranch pierced SlugClan territory, soft yet strained breathing tickled their ears.

"Quickpaw," Icepaw whispered as the wolverine den came into view. A brown muzzle shifted in the dim moon-light. The figure's breath hitched in a sob. Pearbranch dove into the wolverine den. She threw herself over Quickpaw as her SlugClan sister cried. Icepaw crawled in next to the pair.

"She died, Pear," Quickpaw whined. "She's gone."

"We heard, we heard," Pearbranch whispered. She licked Quickpaw's ears. "We're so sorry."

Icepaw was trained to teach others how to handle such displays of grief and empathy. He knew what a mediator was meant to do in such a situation; focus on the grieving cat, work through their emotions together. But Icepaw couldn't truly use the skills he was meant to teach. A wall formed around his words.

"I told her about our meetings," Quickpaw gulped. "She was so happy we were close. She didn't get to see that." A feeling Icepaw couldn't name squirmed into his head. In the end, Nimblestep left all three of them behind.

"Come with us," Icepaw huffed as Quickpaw cried. Quickpaw choked on her grief, staring wide-eyed at her brother.

"Icepaw, let her grieve," Pearbranch grumbled, grooming Quickpaw's neck.

"No, I mean it!" Icepaw scooted closer to Quickpaw. "You don't have any family left in SlugClan. You could see us all the time. RippleClan would love to have you. Slushtrail can help you finish training!" Quickpaw squirmed into herself.

"I don't like being a mediator," she whispered.

"You don't?" Pearbranch echoed. "But you're so good at it! You're so social."

"I don't like how cats need me," Quickpaw whined. "I don't… something bad will happen if I say the wrong thing. I hate it. I just wanted to see you two."

"So come home with us tonight!" Icepaw snapped. "Oilstar will take you in. You can be whatever you want!"

"She can't leave tonight," Pearbranch groaned. "SlugClan will think we kidnapped her!"

"I…" Quickpaw gulped, swallowing a sob, "could think about it." Icepaw and Pearbranch's tails perked up.

"I think you should think about it," Pearbranch said, rubbing against Quickpaw. "If you're lonely in SlugClan, though… we'll tell Oilstar to let you in."

"Can I just cry tonight, though?" Quickpaw whimpered. "Mom's gone. She's gone." Quickpaw pushed her head into Icepaw's shoulder. Icepaw rested his cheek against her. Pearbranch copied the gesture.

The orphans sat in the quiet of the wolverine den for as long as they could, soaking in grief over a mother they barely knew.

(Icepaw: 11, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Pearbranch: 11, female, historian, righteous, good hunter, good storyteller)

(Estherfern: 135, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Gingerspring: 17, male, cleric, charismatic, human expert, good hunter)

(Troutpool: 62, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sight, good climber)

Mitespark announces she is expecting kits. She and Wolverineheart work on crafts together to celebrate their upcoming family.

[Image ID: Mitespark and Wolverineheart sit around a vole. Under Mitespark, it says + CONDITION: PREGNANT. Boughfur jokes with them, saying, "Be honest… you picked that handsome WheatClan mediator as your sire, didn't you?"]

(Mitespark: 43, female, artisan, charismatic, great mediator)

(Wolverineheart: 33, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)

(Boughfur: 33, female, historian, righteous, great climber)

Estherfern visits the human settlement with Brightreed.

[Image ID: Estherfern walks with Brightreed as tbhe latter says, "I don't know what to say to her." A black and white molly with yellow eyes follows them. Under her, it reads NEW PLAYER: VASCO, 12, FEMALE, LONESOME, GREAT KITSITTER, + CONDITION: YELLOWCOUGH.]

---

Estherfern and Brightreed knew better than to spend much time in the human settlement. As StarClan directed, Estherfern brought the Witch Hunters a share of RippleClan's mullein. The smell in the streets made it apparent that Indigo was not the only cat hailing from the settlement to contract yellowcough. Even the few Witch Hunters that greeted the RippleClan cats seemed to choke down coughing fits and snatch the mullein like hungry dogs. Mother and son were quick to retreat to the forest.

"She's your mate, son," Estherfern sighed as the pair journeyed back to the Great Northern River. "If you're having these issues, why won't you talk to her about them?"

"It's just…" Brightreed groaned, staring at the bone-gray branches overhead. "Well, Ravenweaver always wants to work. She doesn't want to relax with our friends. And she's not even that good at her work! What am I supposed to tell her? I love you, but you shouldn't be an artisan?"

"Maybe leave that part out," Estherfern sighed, rolling her eyes. "It's an exaggeration. Ravenweaver is merely sloppy in her initial work. She cleans out the mistakes in time. If she feels as anxious socializing as you do, then perhaps you can start there."

"I fight through that, though," Brightreed huffed.

"I don't know what else you expect me to say about it," Estherfern tutted softly. "How's she supposed to know you're lonely if you don't tell her? Do you need me to arrange a talk with Slushtrail?"

"You know I don't want you interfering with that." Brightreed couldn't stop himself from curling his lip as he spoke. He swallowed hard when his words hit his mother, though. He coughed and turned his harsh eyes back to the dying path at his paws.

"You're right, you're right," Estherfern cooed, literally swallowing her pride with a deep breath. "I'll leave you to your woes, then."

"Estherfern!" The sound of the Great Northern River covered what awkwardness remained between mother and son. The cool mist flowing off the rapids soothed Estherfern's lungs, irritated in sympathy for the sick. On the other side, Anchovystrike and Halibutdusk waited beside a basket of tiny fish, each barely big enough to hold in one's mouth. Sandhollow collected fresh water in a bottle hanging around his neck. Late autumn wind pummeled the cats' ears.

"Did Wildclaw send a patrol for us?" Estherfern hummed as she stepped onto the drowned stepping stones.

"We were just fishing," Anchovystrike explained, nudging the basket. "We can dry out these fish to last through the winter!"

"I don't think I can eat fish for a while," Brightreed groaned, hesitating on the unclaimed side of the river. "My fur still reeks of stormwater." Estherfern bit back to the urge to point out that everything smelled like stormwater; they lived next to the ocean, for God's sake.

"Did you bring a Witch Hunter with you?" Halibutdusk muttered, whiskers rapidly twitching as they took in a shadowed scent. Estherfern opened her nose. The mist and fish hid whatever Halibutdusk smelled. Yet a moment later, Estherfern didn't need her nose. A loud cough from behind Brightreed shocked the golden warrior into the river. He scrambled to RippleClan's side as a black and white figure emerged from the same path Estherfern took home.

The molly was lanky, with silvery swirls over a black pelt. Tangles covered her white chest. Her bony legs shook as she approached the river. Her jaw quivered, fighting off another cough. Sandhollow let go of his bottle, watching the loner. Water splashed out of the unsealed bottle, wetting his chest. Yet before he could call out to the coughing molly, Anchovystrike dragged Sandhollow away from the river, dumping out what remained in the bottle.

"Behind us!" Anchovystrike barked, shoving Sandhollow toward Estherfern.

"Anchovystrike!" Estherfern snapped as the silver-striped molly reached the riverbed. "She can barely stand. What threat does she pose?"

"What color are her eyes?" Anchovystrike hissed. He stood in front of Sandhollow and Estherfern, pupils blown wide.

"What?" Sandhollow gulped, blinking wildly. Panic shot up Estherfern's throat, invisible to her Clanmates. Memories of a black, vicious mass overwhelmed her vision.

"They're yellow," Estherfern muttered. Anchovystrike's stiff hackles lowered slightly, but he still guarded Estherfern and Sandhollow, gaze locked on the loner.

"What are you doing?" the silver-striped molly coughed. "I need help!"

"And we will," Anchovystrike called across the river. "Just not in the way you think. Stay right there, we'll be over in a moment." Anchovystrike turned to his Clanmates, face pulled tight, and whispered, "She's not possessed, but there is ichor on her paws. There's some sort of Dark Forest influence on her."

"Can you tell what it is?" Halibutdusk asked, sparing a glance at the infected molly.

"I haven't really encountered enough ichor to tell what the problem is," Anchovystrike scoffed with an awkward chuckle. "I'm going to have to pull it off and deal with whatever comes out."

"We'll help," Halibutdusk huffed, nudging Brightreed out of his stunned expression. The golden tom nodded along with the senior warrior.

"I overheard you!" the sick molly called. "When you saw my friends, you mentioned a cat named Indigo. They're my friend. Are they alive?"

"Indigo is alive," Estherfern called back, moving around Anchovystrike. "He's almost recovered from his yellowcough."

"I'm not important enough to earn any of the mullein you gave the Witch Hunters," the sick molly coughed. "I just need some for myself, and I'll go. I won't get you sick."

"We might be able to help more," Anchovystrike said. He approached the river's edge. "Just don't call me a witch while I do this, alright?" Anchovystrike followed the stepping stones to the coughing cat, Halibutdusk and Brightreed behind him.

"What's your name?" Sandhollow called as his Clanmates got closer to the newcomer.

"Vasco," the sick molly said. She eyed Anchovystrike as he approached. She tightened her jaw to suppress a cough, but nearly threw up with the intensity of it.

"We can bring you to our camp and help you, if you're willing," Anchovystrike explained, couching by Vasco's paw. "Before we can do that, I have to do something. Again, please don't fight me."

Anchovystrike snapped his fangs together just above Vasco's paw, his whiskers brushing her fur. Estherfern blinked, and the black ichor all of RippleClan so deeply feared could at last be seen. Ichor smeared each of Vasco's paws. A force like gravity pulled the ichor toward Anchovystrike's jaws. Black slime dripped onto the grass like spit. Anchovystrike's fangs pierced deep into the ichor like the scruff of an enemy warrior.

Vasco shrieked. She flailed back, her front paw smacking hard into Anchovystrike's chin. As she spun and whirled away, the ichor whipped off her body, sudden tension snapping back at Anchovystrike. The ichor smacked into his face like a soaked moss-ball. Anchovystrike hissed and peeled the big blob off. Slime smeared his lilac fur.

The ichor blob squirmed like dying prey. It writhed and bubbled, sending unwanted memories through Estherfern's mind. Sharp squeaks gurgled out of it. Features took form and color before a terrified audience. Pale pink ears. Black, soulless eyes. Matted gray fur. Slimy, worm-like tails, tied together, twisting into endless knots, leaving their owners trapped in perpetual panic.

The ichor had become a mass of snarling rats, conjoined together by their tails.

"Rat Leader!" Estherfern cried. Halibutdusk shoved Anchovystrike aside as the quivering swarm of rats scrambled toward the younger warrior like a spider. Halibutdusk grabbed the knot of tails, gagging at the touch. They reared their head back and slammed the Rat Leader into the stepping stones of the Great Northern River. The spirit's stomach-curling screech was soon overtaken by the gurgle of the river. Halibutdusk tossed the stunned horde along the river's current. The Rat Leader splashed into the deeper waters beyond. Its writhing form clawed at the water, but the weight of its own horror soon brought it below the surface. The Spirit of Shadow was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"What was that?" Vasco yowled, cowering at the base of a tree while Estherfern and Sandhollow joined their Clanmates. Halibutdusk lapped up the fresh river water like their life depended on it—because truthfully, it did.

"A Rat Leader," Estherfern growled. "A vicious spirit that infects whoever it comes across. One of many spirits to haunt the dead cursed to the Dark Forest."

"What sort of horrors does your faith contain?" Vasco gasped, hackles rising.

"I'm so sorry," Sandhollow gulped, softening his voice. "I don't know how a monster of Clan life could have attached itself to you. Spirits of Shadow aren't supposed to target those outside the Clans. I have good news, though." Vasco stopped shaking. Her ears remained stiff and her hackles raised, but she stayed where she was, yellow eyes locked into Sandhollow's blue gaze. "We owe you. If you're sick because of a Clan-made monster, the Clans owe it to you to help you recover." Vasco said nothing, thoughts swirling behind her unblinking stare.

"Am I going to get yellowcough?" Halibutdusk asked, gagging on their own tongue.

"Clean your mouth with salt water to be safe," Estherfern ordered. "Go, go! We'll take care of Vasco." Halibutdusk scrambled back to the safety of RippleClan territory. They followed the river toward the ocean, holding their tongue out the whole way.

"Thank you!" Anchovystrike called after them. He shuddered, rubbing his stained face in the grass. "That thing almost bit me."

"You're going to give me the herbs I need?" Vasco finally gulped.

"Better," Sandhollow promised. "We can take you to our camp and help you recover. Oilstar won't turn you away."

"Your friend Indigo is there, too," Brightreed awkwardly chirped, standing behind Sandhollow and peering over the cream-tinted tom's head. "You can check on him!" Vasco stood, slowly, hesitantly. She eyed the RippleClan cats, one by one.

"If you say you owe me," she finally gulped, "then show me. Take me to camp."

"Lean on me if you feel weak," Sandhollow said, sliding up to Vasco. "I'll help you over the river."

As the three RippleClan toms helped the young silver-striped molly across the river, Estherfern's gaze drifted through the trees, back toward the settlement hidden beyond. StarClan itself had requested Estherfern's presence there, and now she understood why. Vasco was certainly not the only Witch Hunter smeared in black ichor, coughing up yellow pleghm and choking on air.

The Dark Forest had gotten its claws into the Witch Hunters.

(Estherfern: 135, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Brightreed: 33, male, warrior, righteous, student of art)

(Anchovystrike: 36, male, warrior, playful, unshakable StarClan link)

(Halibutdusk: 93, nonbinary (they/them), warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

(Vasco: 12, female, Witch Hunter, lonesome, great kitsitter)

(Sandhollow: 32, male, mediator, ambitious, lore keeper)

Now that Indigo has recovered from yellowcough, he asks to take on a proper name as a teacher of RippleClan and abandon his kittypet name. Oilstar decides to name him Chicorycough. They love the joke in their name.

[Image ID: Indigo, now named Chicorycough, stands tall and healthy. Under them, it says LEVEL UP! INDIGO → CHICORYCOUGH, - CONDITION: YELLOWCOUGH.]

(Chicorycough: 41, half tom (he/they), teacher, playful, incredible runner, great teacher)

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 75

Yellowpaw, Sandpaw, and Stormpaw are apprenticed to Asterblaze, Spikecrash, and Clammask.

[Image ID: Yellowpaw, Sandpaw, and Stormpaw are apprentices. Sandpaw says, "Do you think Thunderpaw is impressed?" Under Yellowpaw, it says LEVEL UP! YELLOWKIT → YELLOWPAW, NOISY → COLD. Under Sandpaw, it says LEVEL UP! SANDKIT → SANDPAW, SELF-CONSCIOUS → LOYAL. Under Stormpaw, it says LEVEL UP! STORMKIT → STORMPAW, KNOW-IT-ALL → CHARISMATIC.]

(Yellowpaw: 6, female, caretaker apprentice, cold, quick to make peace)

(Sandpaw: 6, male, mediator apprentice, loyal, interested in Clan history)

(Stormpaw: 6, female, caretaker apprentice, charismatic, loves to eat)

Honeybuzz helps the three star-blessed apprentices.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz, Weevilpaw, Wolfpaw, and Anchovypaw watch Estherfern talk with a Dark Forest spirit. Under Honeybuzz, it says + NEW SKILL: GOOD TEACHER.]

---

Honeybuzz cupped his paw around one of the many plucked mushrooms that formed the unholy circle. He sniffed at the herbal mixture that sealed the pickings together. A few strands of black and red fur clung to the wet earth that lined the edges of the muddy den. The constant rain of the last four days made the ground slick and sent water dripping from the root-lined ceiling. Anchovypaw, Wolfpaw, and Weevilpaw stood outside the den, heads close together as they peered inside. The rain glued their pelts to their skin.

“And you’ve known about this for how long, Anchovypaw?” Honeybuzz asked. He absently batted at his wooden necklace, the freshly plucked cicada wing glistening with raindrops. He pointedly sat outside of the circle, mud sinking into his thin fur.

“Only a few days,” Anchovypaw admitted. “I didn’t want to say anything until I could come back here, but there’s even more ichor here than there was when I first found the den.”

“You should have told us sooner,” Weevilpaw huffed with a glare so sharp that, had she had her sister’s ability, Anchovypaw would have frozen stiff.

“I wasn’t going to scare anyone if I didn’t have to!” Anchovypaw huffed. A sharp flick of his tail sent a stream of water flying over Weevilpaw and Wolfpaw’s backs. “It could have just been where the beast that killed Weedfoot went to die. I only waited a few days! It took me that long to get away from Halibutdusk!”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Honeybuzz promised. He squeezed around the apprentices, squinting as the rain splashed his eyes.

“Now we know someone else has been here,” Wolfpaw pointed out. 

“What is it, Honeybuzz?” Weevilpaw asked. She moved further into the den, eyes locked on the circle.

“You remember my lessons on channeling StarClan?” Honeybuzz said, shivering. “It exhausts power StarClan wasn’t planning to use, but the immediate and physical communication can justify an absence of subtle signs and assistance.”

“But we don’t use mushrooms,” Weevilpaw said. She poked at a mushroom, making it roll out of its spot. “We form a circle of cats, not plants.”

“But do you remember when you met Terracottafoot?” Honeybuzz sighed. “I asked them to tell you about last Harvest Moon, and some of their knowledge of the Dark Forest. Newtstream, their mentor, taught them about channeling Dark Forest spirits using a circle of mushrooms.”

“Someone’s summoning Spirits of Shadow,” Wolfpaw gulped.

“Who would be that mouse-brained?” Anchovypaw growled. His claws left gouges in the mud. “We all remember the Shardling. Who would want to bring something like that back?” Anchovypaw looked like he was going to be sick. Wolfpaw rubbed against Anchovypaw’s side. “You were right, Weevilpaw. I should have destroyed this den as soon as I found it.”

“Then they would have made another one,” Honeybuzz pointed out. “No, we need to find a trusted warrior to watch this den. They can wait until the culprit visits again. Waspdawn or Puddlewhisper would do well. I trust them.” Weevilpaw’s soaked fur prickled. Her eyes widened, locked on something Honeybuzz couldn’t see. Her mouth dropped slightly, breath catching. 

“Out, out!” Weevilpaw hissed, lunging past Wolfpaw. She scrambled into a thick bush, still bursting with summer life. Wolfpaw and Anchovypaw were instantly at her side, following her into the shadows. Honeybuzz stumbled in after them, sharp branches poking his ribs.

“Who did you see?” Anchovypaw whispered just as the shrubbery on the other side of the dark den shifted. Bicolored eyes glimmered through the mid-morning haze.

“Estherfern?” Honeybuzz gasped as the older cleric stepped into full view. Estherfern carried a ball of fur in her jaws, the same red and black colors Honeybuzz found in the strange den. Her fur on her cheeks drooped like heavy leaves. She strolled into the shadows, ignorant to her spies.

“The Shardling almost killed her kits,” Anchovypaw growled, his rage making the leaves shake. “Why would she deal with the Dark Forest?”

“Keep listening,” Wolfpaw whispered. “We might find out.” Estherfern placed the furballs in the center of the circle. Her cool gaze settled on Weevilpaw’s disturbed mushroom. Honeybuzz grit his teeth. Estherfern carefully nudged the mushroom back into its original position. She sat in the den’s entrance, back to Honeybuzz and the apprentices.

Estherfern declared, “I call upon the spirit of Hawthornstealer, banished from StarClan for murder in the name of his kits. Despite your sins, your assistance is required. Return to the Clans, if only for a moment. Speak to us.”

“Do you see that?” Anchovypaw whispered, pressing into Weevilpaw. “Do you see that?” Honeybuzz squinted. The circle was still. Suddenly, Weevilpaw gasped. She bit into her paw to muffle her shock. Honeybuzz braced his heart for whatever the star-blessed apprentices saw.

It began as a shift in the mud, like water in a pot at the first stages of boiling. The ground around the fur offering darkened. Black sludge bubbled out of the mud and lapped up the fur balls like medicine. The sound of its formation reminded Honeybuzz of paws trapped in thick gunk, pulling out of the mess with a sucking slurp. It leaked from under the mushrooms and collected in the circle’s center. The ichor pulled itself upward like drops of water falling from the ceiling, perverting the pull of the earth. A subtle red glow illuminated the den.

“It’s finally working,” Estherfern gasped as the ichor took shape. It lifted itself high like a cat arching their back. It clung to the ground at four points that slowly took on the details of paws. A claw-like tail sprouted from its back. The ichor bubbled and bulged into a muzzle. Two glowing red eyes erupted from the spirit’s face. StarClan help them all.

“So you are Estherfern,” the spirit said. Its voice was as sticky as the mud from which it was born, dissolving into the sound of the tumbling rain.

“Hawthornstealer?” Estherfern asked. The spirit blinked slowly, its eyelids like a mudslide. 

“Why do you call?” the spirit groaned.

“Oilstripe and Lavendertwist told me your story,” Estherfern explained. She inched closer, back still stuck in the rain. “You killed an elder to ensure more food for your kits in a famine. You would have done anything for them. StarClan doesn’t seem to have the power I need. I’m hoping you can help.”

“Explain.”

“My kits are sick, and RippleClan can do nothing to help them. One of my daughters is going deaf, the other is half-blind. And now my only son has issues of the head, issues the mediators are simply bandaging, not fixing.” Was she talking about Brightpaw? Spikecrash had asked Honeybuzz and Troutpool about any relaxing herbs the young tom could take before the Gathering, something to ease the panic that overtook him when too many cats surrounded him. It was manageable. There was no need to resort to such extremes.

“You are searching for a cure.”

“I can’t let them struggle like this. How can I fix them?” The spirit stared at Estherfern silently, the rainfall burning into the background of Honeybuzz’s mind. The only sign of un-life in the spirit rested in its long, slow blinking. Even Estherfern, collected as she was, twitched under the spirit’s unending, blank stare.

“I…,” Anchovypaw whispered, “I don’t think that’s the ghost of Hawthornstealer.”

“Why not?” Wolfpaw whimpered.

“It’s too empty,” Anchovypaw groaned, struggling to find the right word. “Weedfoot’s stories said Dark Forest ghosts looked like themselves. Even the Shardling looked a little like Autumnstar, isn’t that what Downstar told us? This thing doesn’t look like anyone. It looks like a shadow."

“We may have the power,” the spirit finally coughed through its thick ichor. “We need help.”

“That’s what I expected,” Estherfern sighed. “What sort of ritual do I need to perform? Is there another spirit I should talk to?”

“Your children were destined to develop these afflictions,” the spirit gurgled. “Their destinies must be replaced. Replaced with another’s.”

“Elaborate.” 

“The eyes of the clear sighted.” The spirit’s red eyes shone like a flickering fire. “The ears of the cautious listener.” Its pointed ears flicked, their first movement since the spirit’s arrival. “The tongue of the charmed.” Its black teeth peered out from muddy lips. “Three sacrifices. Three kits.” Estherfern stilled. Honeybuzz’s heart sank. Despite her standoffishness, despite her argumentativeness, Estherfern was part of the Clan, her kits were part of the Clan. How could she throw that away to fix what didn’t, what couldn’t be fixed?

“We’ll stop her before she begins,” Anchovypaw growled, inching a paw out of hiding. StarClan asked for Estherfern. Why would they send for her if she could be swayed like this?

“Offer the dead—”

“No.” All four hidden cats perked their ears high. Estherfern stood, tail rippling slowly as she stared the spirit down. The spirit, to Honeybuzz’s continued shock, flinched.

“No?” the spirit spat.

“What do you take me for?” Estherfern scoffed. “You think I’m so blindly devoted to a cure that you can turn me into a murderer? A sadist for the sake of my children?”

“You want them cured,” the spirit growled. Its paw lingered at the edge of the circle. “This is how you cure them.”

“And what happens when I do?” Estherfern asked, tilting one ear in a shocking taunt. “I know how your land works, the rules of your afterlife. They will go to StarClan some day and learn what I did for them, if they do not find out in life. They will despise me for what I have done.”

“But they will be cured.”

“Furthermore, I know the creatures that inhabit your Dark Forest.” Estherfern walked around the circle like a hunter. The spirit never turned its head, face stuck in a sneer. “It is the home of murderers and scoundrels. I would surely arrive there after my own death were I to kill three innocents for you. You would condemn me to eternity without my children.”

“You’ve already been damned, Estherfern. You brought forth the Skin N’ Bones that slew your deputy. You are the cause of your Clan’s suffering. Do you believe StarClan will forgive you for that?” A Skin N’ Bones. Of course. Nothing else would have injured Downstar like that. Nothing else would have devoured Weedfoot alive. Estherfern stopped. The calculated and callous look that always hung in her eyes cracked. Honeybuzz could almost see Estherfern’s soul drop. “Why give up now? You’re too far gone. Your children are not. Why summon us if you were not willing to do whatever it took to fix your kits?”

“I will not have them hate me!” Estherfern rounded on the spirit, lips curled tight. “I will not have them curse my name!” She shook her head low. “I will find a different cure for them. I will find another way. I send you back, spirit, back to your dark wanderings, where StarClan’s light does not reach.” Estherfern reached for one of the mushrooms. Her paw breached the circle.

“No!” The spirit dug its fangs into Estherfern’s paw. Ichor dripped into her fresh wound. She pulled back, ripping more of her skin in the process. 

“I respect what you did for your kits, Hawthornstealer,” Estherfern hissed, licking her paw. “I realize now, however, that where you could put aside your kits’ emotions for their futures, I cannot.”

“We,” the spirit growled, voice dissolving, “are not Hawthornstealer.” 

The spirit’s legs melted like snow. Its form dissolved and splashed about in a massive sticky pool. One by one, the mushrooms rolled into the ichor and vanished under the writhing mass as though falling into a great black hole. The ichor bubbled and squirmed as though in a death rattle. It leaked from the confines of the circle and coated the den floor. Estherfern backed up, back paws slipping on the soaked grass.

Weevilpaw raced out of the bush before Honeybuzz could react. She threw her full weight into Estherfern’s side. The two clerics tumbled into the shrubs. In that moment, the ichor exploded. It sprayed the walls of the dirt den and shot into the rain in an endless cascade. More ichor escaped the den than could have possibly made up the spirit in the circle. As it flew into the forest, large clumps tumbled to the side like wayward drops from a massive wave. The glops tumbled and sloshed against the wet ground before launching through the trees and out of sight. More and more of these glops scrambled away until finally, finally, the spray slowed. A long black trail led out of the den, which was now nothing but ichor and goop. 

Honeybuzz, Anchovypaw, and Wolfpaw crept out of hiding as Weevilpaw got off Estherfern. Mud coated half of her brown pelt. The ichor stunk like rotting flesh and mushrooms.

“How long have you been there?” Estherfern asked, slow to her paws.

“Wolfpaw, you might have to freeze me,” Anchovypaw growled, claws out. “I’m a whisker’s length from killing her.”

“Anchovypaw, no!” Weevilpaw stood in front of Estherfern, paws skidding. “She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She was trying to help her kits. We can’t blame her for that!”

“But the Dark Forest…” Wolfpaw gulped. With the puff in her fur dissolved in the rain, she seemed half her size.

“It is full of dead cats, not unlike StarClan,” Estherfern huffed. She stepped around Weevilpaw and faced down the furious crowd. “All I wanted was a way to cure my kits, something you’ve shown you cannot do.”

“Estherfern, you weren’t talking to a dead warrior,” Honeybuzz groaned, almost stepping on the ichor trail. “That was a Herald. Their entire purpose is to trick the living into allowing Spirits of Shadow into the territories.” His gaze lingered on the forest. He could almost hear the half-formed monsters slurping across the grass, taking their true, cursed forms.

“You heard her!” Weevilpaw huffed. “She wasn’t going to listen to the spirit. She was going to destroy the circle.”

“She didn’t commit murder,” Anchovypaw scoffed. “You did well, Estherfern. You did the bare minimum.”

“Is it your fault?” Wolfpaw muttered, voice almost lost in the rain. “Did you get Weedfoot killed?” Estherfern stared into the ichor-soaked den. 

“I didn’t know,” she said softly. 

“She didn’t know, Anchovypaw,” Weevilpaw snapped. “She’s a good cat!”

“She didn’t care about killing anyone, she cared about what her kits would think,” Anchovypaw growled. “How can we trust a cleric who doesn’t care if you live or die?”

“I trust her,” Weevilpaw huffed, pressing into Estherfern. “Even though she’s strange.”

“Weevilpaw,” Honeybuzz sighed, jumping over the ichor, “take Anchovypaw and Wolfpaw and go back to camp. Just go to the medicine den and wait for us.” 

“What are we going to do with her?” Anchovypaw asked.

“Leave that to me,” Honeybuzz said, shaking his head. “Now go. Stick together, and hurry. We’ll follow you soon.” The apprentices hesitated, all glancing at one another. Weevilpaw was the first to break; she joined Wolfpaw and nudged her onward. The sisters ran toward the coast. Anchovypaw followed, his burning eyes digging into Estherfern as he vanished into the foggy trees.

“It seems I underestimated the vigor of the Dark Forest’s supernatural entities,” Estherfern hummed, cleaning the mud off her injured paw.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” Honeybuzz hissed softly.

“Of course I do,” Estherfern snapped, curling her lips. “You love to tell the story of the Rippling Ashes. They ventured into the Dark Forest, they had Newtstream’s advice. What made my own approach so wicked?”

“Because it’s dangerous!” Honeybuzz groaned. “Because channeling Dark Forest souls, even when they want to help, clears a path for Spirits of Shadow, and they don’t care about any of us. They’re born to hunt. This isn’t worth it.”

“If your kits were sick, wouldn’t you do what you could for them?” Estherfern growled with a large thrash of her tail. “You can’t fix them. I thought the Dark Forest could.”

“They don’t need to be fixed!” Honeybuzz yowled, throwing his whole height up to glare down at Estherfern (who, unlike Rapidleaf, would not cower). “They aren’t dying, Estherfern! They can adapt! I’m sorry I can’t cure Thunderkit or stop Brightpaw’s anxiety, but they’ll be fine!” As Honeybuzz yowled, the first crack appeared in the sky, striking through the gray clouds. Thunder echoed far overhead. Estherfern stared at the growing storm.

“What’s out there now, do you think?” Estherfern sighed.

“Dog-cats, forsaken prey, honeybites…” Honeybuzz muttered, spine itching. “There may even be monsters we rarely see, ones we don’t have names for. We don’t want to know everything that’s out there now.”

“This is something we can fix,” Estherfern huffed. She marched around Honeybuzz and stood on the roof of the wicked den. Jaw tight as her bit paw moved, Estherfern dug at the soaked grass. Her pelt was more mud than fur. Chunks of earth tumbled into the den. The sopping ground folded in on itself like a wave. Estherfern rolled away as the roof of the den fell and covered the sticky, stinking ichor. Grass stuck to Estherfern’s underside. Honeybuzz hurried to her, helping her away from the crumbled remains of her sins.

“We can,” Honeybuzz gulped. “We can fix this.”

(Honeybuzz: 23, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Anchovypaw: 10, male, warrior apprentice, playful, curious about StarClan)

(Weevilpaw: 10, female, cleric apprentice, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Wolfpaw: 10, female, codekeeper apprentice, thoughtful, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Estherfern: 109, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

Sandpaw and Spikecrash arrange time for Estherfern to see the kits she worked so hard to “fix”.

[Image ID: Estherfern faces Thunderpaw, Wolverinepaw, and Brightpaw.]

---

Estherfern didn’t belong at such a lively celebration. The sumptuous food, the well-rehearsed performances… Harvest Moon was as grand as RippleClan claimed it to be. Every Clan gathered as the sunrise poked through the trees, preparing their stews and games and performances. But it was a holiday to drive off Spirits of Shadow. What good would it do to have their herald nestled in the safety of the firelight?

“Spirits of Shadow hate charms,” Troutpool explained as she tucked a cat’s wood-carved face into the boughs of a low-hanging pine. “AshClan spends a lot of time carving these trinkets, and all that care under StarClan’s protections makes them especially useful in warding off danger.” All the clerics roamed the edge’s of the great clearing with baskets of charms and other concoctions to protect the five Clans. Estherfern carried RippleClan’s heavy basket as Honeybuzz, Troutpool, and Weevilpaw prepared the defenses to Troutpool’s instruction.

“How many do we have to place?” Weevilpaw asked, shoving a charm as far into a bush as she could reach.

“We’re covering this entire corner,” Troutpool explained. “We don’t want to leave any openings for spirits.” Estherfern nearly broke the charm in her jaws with how tightly she grit her teeth. She quickly passed it to Honeybuzz.

“Estherfern!” Two figures slipped through the massive crowd. Spikecrash and Sandpaw walked side by side, mentor and apprentice in sync. Sandpaw’s gaze wandered throughout the clearing, taking in the sights of all five Clans for the first time.

“You want to speak to me?” Estherfern asked. While her tone made her question sound casual, the brown priestess hid her surprise deep. She didn’t talk to many cats outside of the medicine den. Why would two of the Clan’s mediators want her? Did they know the real reason why Honeybuzz reported a surge of spirits in the Clan? The reason it was too dangerous to leave camp alone? Why all five Clans, not just RippleClan, now had a newfound fear for their lives? Had Honeybuzz not lied for her, Estherfern would have told the truth and accepted the consequences, yet why he kept it secret, Estherfern didn’t know She glanced at Honeybuzz, but the young gold and white cleric focused on his charms.

“I’m hoping we can borrow you,” Spikecrash explained. “Troutpool, do you still need Estherfern’s help?”

“We’re just placing our wards at the moment,” Troutpool explained, reaching into Estherfern’s basket. “We could finish without her if you really need her.” Estherfern carefully slipped the basket off her neck.

“Thank you, Troutpool,” Spikecrash sighed. She flicked her tail for Estherfern to follow. It seemed no one cared if Estherfern actually wanted to speak with Spikecrash, but who was she to refuse? She trailed after Spikecrash and Sandpaw, heading over to the ovens. Clammask and Stormpaw worked with Drumtooth and Thunderpaw, laughing over an unheard joke as they tended the fire under a massive pot of stew.

“I hope this isn’t too much of an invasion of privacy,” Spikecrash began, her scarred flank lifted high in a long stretch. “Honeybuzz and Weevilpaw spoke with me a few days ago and said you were having some difficulties with your kits.” Estherfern narrowed her eyes.

“If we’re going to discuss my kits,” she sighed, “maybe you could tell me why no one told me about Brightpaw’s meetings with you?”

“So you do know about that,” Spikecrash sighed. “Brightpaw is an apprentice now, Estherfern. We aren’t pressured to tell you anything he didn’t want you to know.” 

“If he’s sick, I want to help him,” Estherfern huffed.

“Why do you think he didn’t want you to know?” Sandpaw scoffed. “Look how you acted with Wolverinepaw and Thunderpaw.” Oh if only he knew just what Estherfern had done for them. What the Dark Forest wanted her to do.

“I’ve only ever tried to help them overcome their own limitations,” Estherfern said, her sharp stare ricocheting off Sandpaw and muting his confident words.

“That’s why we wanted to show you a few things,” Spikecrash explained. She waved a paw toward the oven where Thunderpaw and the other RippleClan cats gathered.

“The only goal of tonight is to have a better stew than WheatClan,” Drumtooth explained, shooting a friendly sneer at WheatClan’s oven and their large pot. He licked the surface of the stew and smacked his jaws. “It’s good, but it’s missing something.” Thunderpaw copied her mentor. Her face squirmed, thinking hard. She then made a strange motion with her paws; balancing on her back legs, she brought her paws close to her mouth and wiggled them as they moved away.

“I know this one,” Stormpaw chirped, completely focused on Thunderpaw. “If the wiggles are the sea… seaweed! That’s seaweed!”

“Yes!” Thunderpaw squealed. The two young apprentices cheered and giggled at their success, bunting one another

“AshClan borrowed our basket of seaweed,” Clammask explained, nudging Thunderpaw. “Grab some for us.”

“Grab seaweed,” Thunderpaw laughed. She quickly swiped the air like she was dragging a mouse out of hiding, then made the ‘seaweed’ motion again. Stormpaw mimicked the dragging motion as Thunderpaw hurried to AshClan’s oven.

“Why is Stormpaw learning Clan-sign?” Estherfern asked her mediator companions.

“Because Thunderpaw’s teaching her,” Sandpaw chirped. “Whenever Thunderpaw gets back from her sign lessons with Mummichogleap, she practices with us apprentices. Most of us are learning a few words so Thunderpaw isn’t left out.”

“And you want to learn?” 

“Thunderpaw makes it fun!”

“You can’t expect the whole Clan to learn this second language.”

“No one does.” Spikecrash touched her tail to Estherfern’s shoulder.. “But there are cats who want to make the effort. They can translate for those who don’t know. It puts pressure off Thunderpaw. She can miss what someone said, but she’ll have friends and family who can let her know.” Thunderpaw trotted back to the oven with a few long strips of seaweed. Clammask tore the seaweed into stew-sized chunks, showing the apprentices how to curl their paws just right. Thunderpaw seemed… happy.

“Now if you’ll follow us over here…” Sandpaw purred, strolling around the Leader’s Stone. Estherfern followed, tail a bit higher than before.

Brightpaw, Ravenpaw, and Vervainpaw sat with a gaggle of apprentices from the other Clans. They lounged about, chatting and laughing. Brightpaw nodded along to an apprentice’s story, his flank stretched out like frog legs. Ravenpaw relaxed on top of him, oohing and awing over the tale.

“I don’t know what your birth place thought of disorders of the mind,” Spikecrash whispered, brushing against Estherfern once more, “but like most disabilities, you can learn to live with them. There was a great gathering of warriors and codekeepers here at the new moon, do you remember? Brightpaw managed to befriend these apprentices during the visit. They invited their friends and littermates to chat today, and Brightpaw is happy to spend time with them. His mind is likely lying to him right now, but he knows ways to manage that. He could overcome his anxiety naturally some day, but that’s a minor part of who he is.”

“I know that,” Estherfern huffed. “He loves to play with Rabbitjoy’s paint supplies. He’s sensitive, and loves his sisters with all his heart. I’ve only ever wanted to help those traits shine.”

“That’s not how Brightpaw sees it,” Sandpaw scoffed under his breath. The comment hollowed out Estherfern’s chest. Before she could respond, two brown blurs shot past the Leader’s Stone with a horde of apprentices and young warriors at their tails. Wolverinepaw and Yarrowpaw led the crowd to an open spot within the festivities. They studied their followers like leader and deputy, the sunrise framing their profiles.

“We’ve got until after sunhigh to prepare!” Wolverinepaw cheered. 

“Are we going to let some dusty old bones beat us?” Yarrowpaw cried.

“No!” the young crowd yowled joyfully, already shoving and jumping over each other.

“Let’s show them what the new generation can do!” Wolverinepaw called. Her followers cheered, yowling to the high branches. They scattered throughout the clearing and split into sparring groups. They steadied their stances and wiggled their flanks. With sheathed paws, the youth of the Clans launched into training, trading blows and careful bites. Slushpaw lingered near the edge of the training grounds, cheering the others on.

“Slushpaw!” Sandpaw yowled to the older mediator apprentice. “What are they doing?”

“Well,” Slushpaw laughed, trotting up to Sandpaw, Spikecrash, and Estherfern, “Yarrowpaw and Wolverinepaw were arguing with Darkkick and another old warrior about what was a better trait in a fight; youth or experience. Suddenly all these other cats started joining in, and now the senior warriors are going to have a big mock-battle with the apprentices, plus some warriors who haven’t attended a Harvest Moon before.”

“And Wolverinepaw’s participating in this?” Estherfern huffed. She searched for her daughter in the crowd. She found Wolverinepaw rolling about with Yarrowpaw in the middle of the mess. Yarrowpaw shoved Wolverinepaw’s head into the dirt. Wolverinepaw snapped her jaw around Yarrowpaw’s leg and pulled her onto her shoulder. Yarrowpaw laughed as Wolverinepaw took her place on top of the older apprentice.

"She's as capable as any apprentice her age," Spikecrash assured Estherfern.

"She seemed so insecure during her ceremony…" Estherfern muttered.

"Wolverinepaw?" Spikecrash chuckled. "I don't think so. From what I've heard, she thinks she's strong enough to take on an actual wolverine."

"She didn't choose a role in time, though," Estherfern pointed out.

"Because she wanted to do everything!" Slushpaw laughed. "I talked with her right up to her ceremony. She had a new role in mind every day!" Oh. Had Wolverinepaw's sight not come up at all? Surely her decaying vision would make it hard for her to fight. Yet she kept up with Yarrowpaw, tumbling across the clearing with abandon. Had Estherfern's kits always been so sure of themselves? Surely they wanted cures. How else could they survive in a world that showed no mercy to the weak? In the cat-minded human's den, if you couldn't match up to the others, you wouldn't eat. Three of Estherfern's brilliant kits would have died in that awful place. Except…they weren't there anymore, were they?

"Can I guess what's been going on?" Spikecrash asked. "You've been so focused on a cure in their future, you've ignored how they are in the present. When's the last time you talked to them about something, anything but their health? Have you talked to Foampaw or Boughpaw at all?" Estherfern glanced from one kit to another. Their faces glowed with holiday glee. Did they ever glow around Estherfern anymore? When was the last time she shared a meal with them?

"Spikecrash," Estherfern muttered, her pride burning her words, "I need you to teach me something."

A short time later, Estherfern approached Thunderpaw and the RippleClan stew. The bounties of the ocean danced in the broth, specially prepared for that oh so exciting celebration. Thunderpaw stared eagerly into the stew while Stormpaw and their mentors talked with other caretakers. She spotted her mother and her eyes grew big and calm, mimicking Estherfern's eternally serene expression. Estherfern's heart did not carry that serenity as she approached her bold daughter.

"Do you need…" Estherfern said hesitantly. She awkwardly sat on her hind legs. She held out one paw, pads down, and angled the other on top of it, claws out. Thunderpaw's eyes sparkled at the sign.

"Help," she whispered as Estherfern quickly returned to a natural position. Thunderpaw made the sign with ease, quickly hopping from her hind legs and back. She ogled Estherfern, her thoughts not caught up to reality.

"I want to spend time with you," Estherfern explained. It felt like someone carved her pelt off, leaving her exposed. "I want to share your stew with you and your littermates." Thunderpaw blinked slowly. It took her so long to reply, Estherfern was about to repeat herself, just in case her pounding heart muffled her words.

"Do you want to learn the sign for littermates while the stew finishes cooking?" Thunderpaw gulped. The tip of her tail twitched wildly as her earlier joy bloomed across her face once more.

"If it means time with you," Estherfern sighed.

(Estherfern: 109, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Troutpool: 36, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Weevilpaw: 10, female, cleric apprentice, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Honeybuzz: 23, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Spikecrash: 50, female, mediator, wise, good speaker, lore keeper)

(Sandpaw: 6, male, mediator apprentice, loyal, interested in Clan history)

(Drumtooth: 23, trans male, caretaker, loyal, great hunter, clever)

(Thunderpaw: 7, female, caretaker apprentice,

(Stormpaw: 6, female, caretaker apprentice, charismatic, loves to eat)

(Clammask: 69, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)

(Brightpaw: 7, male, warrior apprentice, lonesome, lover of art)

(Wolverinepaw: 7, female, warrior apprentice, compassionate, always asking questions)

(Yarrowpaw: 10, female, warrior apprentice, thoughtful, stares at fire)

(Slushpaw: 11, female, mediator apprentice, wise, quick witted, bats at string)

[rippleclan]

RippleClan Allegiances: Year 9

At the request of my beloved readers, I have created a family tree for all fans to look through so they can remember who is related to who! You can access this family tree here.

I will also be doing allegiance updates at the start of every year to better keep up with changes to RippleClan. Enjoy!

Leader:

Oilstar - a ginger tabby molly with autumn leaves

100, charismatic, ghost speaker

Parents: Sunstrike, Rustshade

Mate: Carnationspeckle

Deputy:

Wildclaw - a scarred, gray tabby molly

88, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter

Parents: Downstar, Froggy

Mate: Rattlepelt

Clerics:

Estherfern - a dark brown tabby molly

130, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker

Apprentice: Gingerpaw

Troutpool - a long-furred cream and white tabby molly

57, insecure, ghost sight

Parents: Oilstar, Carnationspeckle

Honeybuzz - a gold and white rosette tom with a cicada wing necklace

44, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher

Parents: Clammask, Scrubmask

Mate: Stormjump

Weevilsight - a dark gray/dark ginger tortie molly with scars and petals in her fur

31, daring, deep StarClan bond

Parents: Lemmy, Mosspounce

Mate: Anchovystrike

Mediators:

Spikecrash - a masked dark brown tabby molly

71, wise, good speaker, lore keeper

Parents: Darkkick

Paleseed - a speckled silver molly with red feather decor

62, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws

Parents: Weedfoot, James

Slushtrail - a dark brown and white tabby molly with a juniper crown

32, wise, clever, talented weaver

Parents: Oilstar, Carnationspeckle

Sandhollow - a white tom

27, ambitious, lore keeper

Parents: Gwen, Waspdawn

Artisans:

Rattlepelt - a furless silver and white molly with a fox pelt woven with lavender

79, thoughtful, leather artist

Parents: Rebecca (biological), Oilstar, Carnationspeckle (adopted)

Mate: Wildclaw

Mitespark - a black rosette molly

38, charismatic, great mediator

Mate: Wolverineheart

Ravenweaver - a black molly with a lavender crown

31, nervous, den builder, very clever

Parents: Lemmy, Mosspounce

Mate: Brightreed

Frostdancer - a long-furred silver and white molly

12, confident, great storyteller

Parents: Elmsprout, Lavendertwist

Historians:

Lavendertwist - a brown smoke and white tom with a black collar and scarred neck

62, playful, great singer, good storyteller

Parents: Weedfoot, James

Mate: Elmsprout

Splashtuft - a long-furred, masked, gold and white tabby tom with a purple ribbon collar

44, adventurous, fast runner, student of art

Parents: Clammask, Scrubmask

Tallowheart - a light brown and white ticked tabby tom

32, nervous, good swimmer

Parents: Oilstar, Carnationspeckle

Billowhaze - a dark brown and white tom

31, loyal, good kit-sitter

Parents: Harvest

Mate: Wolfgaze

Boughfur - a brown ticked molly with forget-me-not decor

28, righteous, great climber

Parents: Estherfern

Whiteflower - a long-furred white tom

13, faithful, great kitsitter

Parents: Wildclaw, Rattlepelt (adopted)

Apprentice: Pearpaw

Codekeepers:

Venturedapple - a long-furred, speckled, white and dark brown tom with a mangled tail

84, cold, eloquent speaker

Waspdawn - a rosetted golden and white tom with half a tail

62, strict, learner of lore, clue finder

Parents: Weedfoot, James

Puddlewhisper - a speckled silver and white molly

62, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense

Parents: Weedfoot, James

Vervaincough - a black tabby molly

31, insecure, understands nature, good mediator

Parents: Clammask, Halibutdusk

Wolfgaze - a gray tabby molly

31, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, great speaker

Parents: Lemmy, Mosspounce

Mate: Billowhaze

Caretakers:

Carnationspeckle - a brown and white ticked molly

98, compassionate, fish-like swimmer

Mate: Oilstar

Elmsprout - a long-furred silver smoke and white molly

63, charismatic, trusted advisor

Parents: Eelstar

Mate: Lavendertwist

Drumtooth - a dark gray tabby tom

44, loyal, great hunter, clever

Parents: Clammask, Scrubmask

Asterblaze - a silver tabby tom

43, thoughtful, inventor and innovator

Currentsmoke - a white and dark ginger smoke tom with a large cheek scar

31, loving, good climber, inventor and innovator

Parents: Harvest

Yellowburst - a white and gold rosette molly

27, adventurous, great mediator

Parents: Gwen, Waspdawn

Stormjump - a masked ginger and white tabby molly

27, charismatic, incredible cook

Parents: Gwen, Waspdawn

Mate: Honeybuzz

Teachers:

Scaleripple - a long-furred golden tom with vitiligo and jay feather decor

49, lonesome, unusually strong fighter

Parents: Weedfoot, James

Mate: Tempestshade (dead)

Thundergale - a brown molly

28, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker

Parents: Estherfern

Shrewflame - a dark ginger and white ticked tom

20, loyal, fast as the wind

Parents: Wildclaw, Rattlepelt (adopted)

Apprentice: Icepaw

Warriors:

Rapidleaf - a golden brown tabby molly

114, lonesome, prophecy interpreter

Halibutdusk - a gray tabby cat

88, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever

Parents: Downstar, Froggy

Mate: Clammask (dead)

Leathermask - a long-furred, masked, golden brown and white tabby tom

44, confident, good fighter, eloquent speaker

Parents: Clammask, Scrubmask

Anchovystrike - a light brown and white tabby tom

31, playful, unshakable StarClan link

Parents: Harvest

Mate: Weevilsight

Yarrowclaw - a dark brown and white molly with a dead right eye

31, cold, fire master

Parents: Harvest

Brightreed - a ginger tabby tom with a bite scar on his shoulders

28, righteous, student of art

Parents: Estherfern

Mates: Ravenweaver

Wolverineheart - a brown tabby molly

28, troublesome, student of science

Parents: Estherfern

Mate: Mitespark

Apprentice: Dovepaw

Apprentices:

Gingerpaw - a ginger and white tom with a maple seed necklace

12, charismatic, curious about humans, moss-ball hunter

Parents: Elmsprout, Lavendertwist

Icepaw - a speckled gray tom

6, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still

Parents: Nimblestep, Achilles (biological), Puddlewhisper (adopted)

Pearpaw - a rosette pale ginger molly

6, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories

Parents: Nimblestep, Achilles (biological), Puddlewhisper (adopted)

Dovepaw - a pale gray and white tabby tom

6, oblivious, active imagination

Elders:

Darkkick - a long-furred dark gray bengal trans molly

144, lonesome, talented swimmer, understands nature

Rabbitjoy - a golden-brown smoke molly

132, charismatic, master weaver

Kits:

Midnightkit - a black smoke tom

5, polite, always wandering

Parents: Wildclaw, Rattlepelt (adopted)

Valleykit - a gray tom

5, quiet, avid play-fighter

Parents: Wildclaw, Rattlepelt (adopted)

Cats Outside The Clan:

Pearl - a black and white molly

82, careful, explorer, clever

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 88

Mitespark gets flustered when Wolverineheart compliments her woodworking skill.

[Image ID: Ravenweaver and Mitespark watch Wolverineheart go. Ravenweaver says, "You would be cute together!"]

(Ravenweaver: 23, female, artisan, nervous, den builder, very clever)

(Mitespark: 30, female, artisan, charismatic, great mediator)

(Wolverineheart: 20, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)

Despite an awkward assessment, Shrewpaw recovers from his bruises and is named Shrewflame for his fierce confidence. Thundergale considers herself lucky to have mentored such a great cat.

[Image ID: Shrewflame is now an adult! Under him, it reads LEVEL UP! SHREWPAW → SHREWFLAME, COMPETITIVE → LOYAL, NEVER SITS STILL → FAST AS THE WIND. Thundergale watches proudly in the back.]

(Shrewflame: 12, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)

(Thundergale: 20, female, teacher, adventurous, good hunter, good speaker)

Halibutdusk is worried about the storm overhead, but continues on their date with Clammask anyway. As they walk along the river, a flash flood overcomes them. Halibutdusk clings to the stepping stones, but Clammask is washed to sea.

[Image ID: Halibutdusk and Clammask wander under a cloudy sky, where the ghosts of Twinekit, Locustseeker, Burdockcreek, and Rustshade watch and wait.]

(Halibutdusk: 80, nonbinary (they/them), warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

(Clammask: 82, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)

(Rustshade: 102, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Burdockcreek: 40, male, historian, competitive, lore keeper)

(Locustseeker: 12, nonbinary (they/them), historian apprentice, troublesome, moss-ball hunter)

(Twinekit: 2, female, kit, noisy, quick to help)

Wildclaw and Honeybuzz grieve. Honeybuzz wonders how Stormjump is doing.

[Image ID: Wildclaw talks to her littermate, with + CONDITION: GRIEVING under her. On the other side, Stormjump speaks with Downstar and Carnationspeckle. Honeybuzz watches them both, + CONDITION: GRIEVING written under him.]

---

Stars damn it all.

Honeybuzz knew it was natural for a kit to sit vigil for their parents as the latter grew old and their fur turned gray, but Honeybuzz still felt too young to lose Clammask too. And this time, there was no clear culprit he could blame. Halibutdusk wasn't like Rapidleaf, they didn't shove Clammask into the water, and they didn't run from whatever role they played in Clammask's death either. They even offered their freedom up to Venturedapple and Cobaltchaser, willing to sit through a trial and sort out the details of the incident. Not that the outcome wasn't clear, though; this was no living cat's fault. Perhaps Clammask's littermates decided to call her home. Perhaps the All-Seeing prevented any warnings from reaching the clerics' ears so their grand plan could unfold.

Whoever decided Clammask would die that day, stars damn them.

At least the Clan had a body to sit vigil for. While on patrol, hoping that Clammask found her way back to shore, Rapidleaf, Asterblaze, and Tallowheart found Clammask's body drifting along the edge of the beach. Troutpool and Oilstripe mournfully reported Clammask's spirit escorting the body to camp before departing with Twinekit, Locustseeker, and Burdockcreek. Weevilsight and Carnationspeckle dried her body and made sure she looked her best. The last child of RippleClan's first litter, departed for the stars.

Honeybuzz muttered along to Troutpool and Estherfern's ritual as he, Splashtuft, Leathermask, and Drumtooth pressed their noses into their mother's pelt one last time. To the side, Wildclaw and Halibutdusk leaned into each other, each bearing the other's grief on their backs. A long pelt covered Halibutdusk, fighting off the chill of the autumn water. Yet Honeybuzz was the one who couldn't stop shivering. Stormjump, Carnationspeckle, and Downstar built a large fire to the side of the vigil—a dash of warmth to send Clammask up to Silverpelt. It did not calm Honeybuzz's body.

Vervaincough, Potterypool, and Moontide curled up along Clammask's back. Vervaincough's breath itched at Honeybuzz's neck. Neither Clammask's sons nor her daughters wanted to be the first to leave their mother behind and embrace the night that had slowly enveloped them over the course of the vigil. Yet when Honeybuzz dared look up from Clammask's still-damp fur, he could see Oilstripe, Mosspounce, and Slushtrail patiently waiting for their turn to mourn. Honeybuzz kneaded his mother's still belly. Could he really leave her behind? Would he see her the next time he visited StarClan's Shrine? Whatever the case, Honeybuzz couldn't stay with his siblings forever. Clammask wasn't just important to them.

Honeybuzz pried himself away from Clammask's body with a pitiful moan. His cicada wing necklace left an imprint in her fur. His paws mindlessly carried him away, leaving room for Oilstripe to mourn her little sister.

"Honeybuzz, wait," Leathermask whined, lifting his head from the vigil.

"Let him go, Leather," Splashtuft sighed. "I… I think I need to leave, too." Splashtuft shoved himself up and hurried to the warrior's den. Billowhaze and Tallowheart, who quietly shared tongues outside the den, followed their fellow historian in, ready to offer whatever comfort they could manage.

"I'm not leaving," Drumtooth promised, pressing closer to Leathermask as Mosspounce found his opening to mourn.

Honeybuzz wandered toward Stormjump and the growing fire. He had no real agenda, no idea what he needed, but in the bottom of his heart, he knew Stormjump could provide it. Stormjump, to her credit, was the first to notice Honeybuzz's approach. She set a piece of kindling to the side of the flames and turned to see who joined her, Carnationspeckle, and Downstar in their work.

"Honeybuzz," Stormjump cooed. "Come warm up. You look wet." Stormjump moved aside so Honeybuzz could creep closer to the fire. His shivering eased as Carnationspeckle gently groomed his fur the wrong way.

"What do you need, Honeybuzz?" Downstar asked.

"You tell me," Honeybuzz scoffed, resting his head on the warm sand.

"It's late, but we could prepare a simple stew," Carnationspeckle suggested. "Something with heart-healing herbs to warm our bones."

"The Clan already had their evening meal," Honeybuzz sighed. "Don't waste food for the sunhigh meal."

"Take it from an older cat, Honeybuzz," Downstar sighed, eyes trailing to Clammask's body. "A loss like this is going to hurt, and you won't be the same cat you were this morning. But eventually the good memories will pad around that loss, dampen the sound of the grief. It'll be there, and it will still hurt. But you'll have more and more joy to draw strength from, if you allow yourself to hold onto it." Carnationspeckle licked her former mentor's shoulder and rested her chin on her back. Honeybuzz just closed his eyes. That little speech seemed more for Downstar than for him.

He never told her. Honeybuzz never told Clammask the truth about Scrubmask and Rapidleaf. She knew now, finally reunited with her first mate. She knew about Honeybuzz's silence. Did she understand his intentions? Did she see the chaos the truth would bring? Or did she only see her son, the liar, the secret keeper, the cat who let a killer share the same den as his brothers and sisters without so much as a meow of protest?

"It's alright to cry, Honeybuzz," Stormjump sighed, nuzzling Honeybuzz's neck. Honeybuzz didn't realize his breath had begun to hitch. "Maybe you should get some sleep. Want me to walk you to the medicine den?" Honeybuzz swallowed hard and nodded. He forced himself up, but this time, Stormjump was there, leaning against Honeybuzz, catching his weight. The pair sank into the sand. Honeybuzz didn't care to wipe it off his paws when he entered his den.

He tumbled into his nest with a pitiful mew. Stormjump gently grabbed the leather cord of his cicada wing necklace and lifted it off his neck. She placed the necklace beside his nest.

"I'll make sure I'm in charge of the sunhigh meal tomorrow," Stormjump promised. "I'll make Clammask's favorite meal. Herb-pelted bird fillets. Sleep well, Honeybuzz. I'm sorry about today." Stormjump's tail waved gently as she turned out of the den.

Honeybuzz couldn't stop himself from falling asleep, a weight settling over his back. Yet as he did so, he could have sworn he heard one last thing as Stormjump left.

"I love you."

(Honeybuzz: 36, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Wildclaw: 80, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

(Halibutdusk: 80, nonbinary (they/them), warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

(Leathermask: 36, male, warrior, nervous, good fighter, eloquent speaker)

(Splashtuft: 36, male, historian, adventurous, fast runner, student of art)

(Drumtooth: 36, trans male, caretaker, loyal, great hunter, clever)

(Stormjump: 19, female, caretaker, charismatic, incredible cook)

(Downstar: 147, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Carnationspeckle: 90, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

While participating in a battle training holiday with other warriors and caretakers in LynxClan territory, Mosspounce, Yarrowclaw, and Brightreed come across a cougar’s den; the same cougar that once decimated LynxClan. The trio lead the celebrating warriors to kill the cougar once and for all, with Mosspounce delivering a deadly blow, but his eyes are clawed up as a result.

[Image ID: Mosspounce, Brightreed, and Yarrowclaw follow bloody pawprints. Under Mosspounce, it says + CONDITION: DAMAGED EYES.]

(Mosspounce: 49, male, caretaker, adventurous, talented fire-starter)

(Brightreed: 20, male, warrior, righteous, student of art)

(Yarrowclaw: 23, female, warrior, cold, talented fire-starter)

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 80

Honeybuzz recovers in time to give Weevilsight her name. However, while the other clerics commune with StarClan and Weevilsight sits her vigil outside, she's attacked. While she can't identify the attackers, she reeks of SlugClan.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz, Troutpool, and Estherfern gather around Weevilsight. Weevilsight yowls, "Finally!" Under her, it reads LEVEL UP! WEEVILPAW → WEEVILSIGHT, CURIOUS ABOUT STARCLAN → DEEP STARCLAN BOND, + CONDITION: MANGLED TAIL. Under Honeybuzz, it says - CONDITION: TORN EAR.]

(Weevilsight: 15, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)

(Troutpool: 41, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Honeybuzz: 28, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Estherfern: 114, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

RippleClan welcomes a new batch of graduates: Yellowburst, Stormjump, Thundergale, Boughfur, and Wolverineheart. When her vigil is through, Thundergale has a strange proposition.

[Image ID: Yellowburst, Stormjump, Thundergale, Boughfur, and Wolverineheart stand together, the latter three sporting adult sprites. Under Yellowburst, it says LEVEL UP! YELLOWPAW → YELLOWBURST, COLD → ADVENTUROUS, QUICK TO MAKE PEACE → GOOD MEDIATOR. Under Stormjump, it says LEVEL UP! STORMPAW → STORMJUMP, LOVES TO EAT → INCREDIBLE COOK. Under Thundergale, it reads LEVEL UP! THUNDERPAW → THUNDERGALE, MOSS-BALL HUNTER → GREAT HUNTER, + NEW SKILL: GOOD SPEAKER. Under Boughfur, it says LEVEL UP! BOUGHPAW → BOUGHFUR, CONSTANTLY CLIMBING → GOOD CLIMBER. Under Wolverineheart, it says LEVEL UP! WOLVERINEPAW → WOLVERINEHEART, COMPASSIONATE → TROUBLESOME, ALWAYS ASKING QUESTIONS → STUDENT OF SCIENCE.]

---

Thundergale couldn't have imagined sitting vigil alone. She pitied cats who graduated without their littermates; how could they manage a night alone, roaming the edges of camp, pondering the enormity of adulthood with no escape? Of course, Thundergale was a bit privileged when it came to guarding camp. With her hearing loss, it simply wasn't safe for Thundergale to be alone on guard duty. There were too many things she could miss. But that just made nights like her vigil better, because she always had someone at her side.

Thundergale could tell that Yellowburst and Wolverineheart itched to speak as dawn showed its first beams. They padded around the camp entrance, a dozen thoughts trapped in their mouths. Stormjump stared at the sunrise, constantly glancing back to camp for someone to end the long night. Boughfur was the only one to sit tall and proper, opposite of Thundergale. Stormjump and Yellowburst had built a small fire outside camp to fight off the freezing snow around them, but now that fire was little more than smolders.

"Good morning!" Asterblaze and Waspdawn slipped out of camp, pelts fluffed and eyes bright. Yellowburst and Stormjump slunk to their father's side, bunting heads and purring. Thundergale peered into camp. Estherfern sat outside the medicine den, tail tucked over her paws, ear flicking gently in the soft winter breeze.

"Did you hear me, Thundergale?" Asterblaze asked. Thundergale turned back as what little heat remaining inside her went to her ears. Wolverineheart and Boughfur danced around one another, but Thundergale couldn't hear their celebration. "I said you're free to speak again."

"Thank you," Thundergale said. Her voice still echoed in her head, but it seemed quieter when it escaped.

"Let's find Sandpaw," Stormjump told her sister as the pair followed their father into camp. "I want to brag…" Her voice grew too far for Thundergale to hear the rest of the comment. Asterblaze followed the family through. Boughfur and Wolverineheart suddenly pulled themselves from their little party and pounced on Thundergale.

"No more flea duty!" Wolverineheart signed, almost too excited to sign clearly.

"Who do you think made our graduation presents?" Thundergale wondered. She paused mid-sign with a huge yawn.

"Let's go to sleep and find out," Boughfur quickly signed, her paw-work sloppy as she tried to head for the camp entrance. She led her sisters into RippleClan, licking her cold paws.

Oilstripe organized a sunrise patrol by the Shiprock with Lemmy, Cobaltpaw, and Puddlewhisper. Ravenweaver, Mitespark, and Clammask argued over the Clan's first meal beside the unlit stove while Paleseed did her best to mediate the disagreement. Yarrowclaw rushed past Thundergale, kicking up sandy snow in her rush to get out of camp. Trumpetspore and Mosspounce rekindled the bonfire in the center of camp, dulled after a peaceful night. Even though Thundergale eagerly ached to rest in her new nest, she soaked in the life of her Clan. There was so much to learn from every single cat, so many skills and tasks a cat could master, even outside of their chosen role. Joining RippleClan was the best decision Estherfern ever made.

Speaking of Estherfern, the brown molly waved her daughters toward her. Boughfur and Thundergale glanced at each other while Wolverineheart squinted to see what was happening. No one dared make the first move. Spikecrash's scent drifted closer. Thundergale spotted the scarred mediator first and drew her sisters' attention. Spikecrash strolled up to Thundergale's ear, stretching to reach her.

"I'll lead you over there," Spikecrash promised. She stepped back and winked at the trio. She strolled toward the medicine den, tail high. Thundergale took a deep breath. She, Wolverineheart, and Boughfur made their way toward their mother.

"I'm proud of you three," Estherfern said when the group approached. Spikecrash quickly stepped away, cheekily glancing at the new graduates as she left them. Estherfern paused before she continued. She slowly made the sign for "proud", flicking her ears toward Thundergale one by one. Truthfully, it was closer to the sign for "dig" with how slow she went, but Thundergale stayed quiet. She was trying, after all.

"Thanks, Mom," Wolverineheart sighed, signing while she spoke.

"How's Brightpaw?" Boughfur asked, glancing behind Estherfern.

"The dog spit and bird blood in the wound puts Brightpaw at risk for severe infection," Estherfern explained. "He's resting right now, but I'm watching him closely."

"You're watching him?" Wolverineheart scoffed. Even her signs looked dismissive. "I thought medicine wasn't a priestess's domain."

"It isn't," Estherfern admitted, shoulders shifting under her daughters' scrutiny. "It is a cleric's domain, however. If I'm a cleric by name, I should be able to help my fellow clerics in all aspects of their work."

"You know medicine now?" Thundergale asked. She focused on the sign for "medicine"; a paw, raised slightly, and spinning over the other paw like a cleric grinding herbs.

"I've asked Weevilsight to help me," Estherfern admitted. "Unlike some cats, she won't make my lessons more difficult than they should be."

"But why?" Boughfur asked. "Why learn now?"

"My pride got in the way of everything," Estherfern sighed, making the same sign as earlier with her ears. "No more. I've killed my old habits. I'm learning to be a new cat, and hopefully a new mother." Learning… Estherfern really was learning a lot. Medicine, Clan-sign, motherhood, listening; it was so much like the informal second apprenticeships many cats pursued after graduation. Yet Estherfern had to pursue a lot of this knowledge on her own, hoping others would give her a second chance and show an old molly a new way to see the world. What if there was someone in the Clan dedicated to helping cats like Estherfern?

"Wolverine," Thundergale asked slowly, glancing toward the leader's den. "Can you help me? I need some translation."

"Can it be after we sleep?" Wolverineheart asked, words lost in a yawn.

"Yes, I should let you rest," Estherfern coughed, stepping back into the medicine den. "We can speak more later. If you want."

"I think I do," Thundergale stammered, "but Wolverineheart, I really need a translator right now, before Downstar leaves camp."

"I'll help, Thunder," Boughfur chirped, adjusting her forget-me-not decor as Estherfern hid a purr and returned to the shadows of the medicine den. Thundergale nudged her dark brown sister toward the leader's den, skirting around Lemmy's departing patrol while Wolverineheart gleefully hurried to the warrior's den for a well-deserved rest.

"Downstar?" Thundergale called into the leader's den. The gray-muzzled leader rested in her nest, still grooming herself. Halibutdusk and Wildclaw lounged beside her, talking too quiet for Thundergale to hear.

"Thundergale, Boughfur," Downstar said, nodding to each new graduate. "I thought you would be settled in your nests by now. I told Asterblaze he could relieve you." Downstar's voice weakened at a few essential moments, but Boughfur was there to help. She instinctually moved in front of Thundergale and signed what Downstar said. She had become as skilled in Clan-sign as Thundergale.

"You did," Thundergale said, "but there's something I wanted to talk to you about before I lost my words." Downstar studied Thundergale for a moment. Then she muttered something to her kits, who touched noses with their mother and slipped around Thundergale. When they were gone, Downstar nodded for Thundergale to continue. Thundergale's throat tightened. She turned to Boughfur, her ideas trapped. Boughfur balanced on her hind legs, ready to support her sister with whatever she needed. Thundergale forced herself to breath.

"I enjoyed my training as a caretaker," Thundergale signed. Boughfur stammered for a moment, catching up with her sister's message. Downstar glanced between Thundergale and Boughfur as the former spoke and the latter explained. "Drumtooth was a good mentor. I like caring for others. In some ways, though, Mummichogleap was the more important mentor. Without his lessons, I would struggle to explain myself. I would lose my words because I couldn't hear them. I'd fail to speak to others because I could not hear them. I'm so grateful to Mummichogleap for teaching me Clan-sign. When I came back from my lessons, I began to realize, my favorite thing to do wasn't tending the fire or watching kits or any of the typical caretaker tasks. I loved teaching.

"I've taught all my littermates how to use Clan-sign, and my mother is starting to learn as well. Stormjump, Yellowburst, and Sandpaw wanted to learn as well. Drumtooth is able to sign the most important words, and I've had a few cats ask me for the signs of specific phrases. I loved all of that. I want to do that for the rest of my life.

"Downstar, I think the Clans are missing something. Historians remember our history and study the world. Warriors learn the most complex battle techniques. Codekeepers memorize every detail of the code. But it all rests on the mentor to teach their apprentice those skills. If the apprentice wants to learn other skills, they have to ask for favors. They have to hope someone will let them study in a second apprenticeship. What if we made learning easier? What if cats could come to a teacher whenever they wanted to learn a new skill? Mentors could get help for their apprentices without insecurity. Kits could learn basic skills as they decide on their futures. Downstar, I don't want to be a caretaker. I want to be a teacher."

"Are you suggesting an entirely new position in the Clan?" Downstar finally asked after Boughfur finished translating.

"Teachers could learn a bit about every position," Thundergale explained. "I would know enough about most subjects to assist an apprentice during their training. I can learn the best ways to teach cats, young and old, so that anyone who wants to learn has someone to talk to. I want to teach cats more Clan-sign, but I also want to teach codekeepers about fire safety. I want to teach artistic warriors about making paint. I want to teach antsy artisans better hunting skills. I want the Clans to know anything they want to know."

"What you're suggesting is a major change to RippleClan's lifestyle," Downstar pointed out. "You may step on more than a few mentors' paws."

"I think they'll like the help," Thundergale said aloud, confidence restored. "I have ideas, Downstar. Can I try?" Downstar tappd her paw on the edge of her nest. Her whiskers twitched, deep in thought. Thundergale couldn't help but crouch as her leader decided her fate.

"Get some rest," Downstar finally said. "We can discuss the details of this… teacher position once you've slept."

"Thank you, Downstar!" Thundergale gasped, almost flying off the ground.

"I still want you to fulfill your caretaker duties while we see if this new role is viable," Downstar warned, "but RippleClan is the Clan of new opportunities. I can tell you're earnest. Good luck, Thundergale. Now, both of you, go to your nests. Ravenweaver made you both a down-stuffed head rest." Boughfur and Thundergale both dipped their heads to the tortoiseshell leader. Boughfur brushed against Thundergale and nudged her toward the warrior's den. Thundergale took the lead. She wouldn't be surprised if she couldn't sleep.

Thundergale was going to make history!

(Thundergale: 12, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)

(Yellowburst: 11, female, caretaker, adventurous, good mediator)

(Wolverineheart: 12, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)

(Stormjump: 11, female, caretaker, charismatic, incredible cook)

(Boughfur: 12, female, historian, righteous, good climber)

(Asterblaze: 27, male, caretaker, thoughtful, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Waspdawn: 46, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Estherfern: 114, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Spikecrash: 55, female, mediator, wise, good speaker, lore keeper)

(Downstar: 139, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

Yellowburst gets yellowcough, making the clerics wonder if it is an omen. Meanwhile, Shrewkit tells Ravenweaver to make a move on Brightpaw.

[Image ID: Yellowburst stands in the back, with + CONDITION: YELLOWCOUGH under her. Brightpaw and Venturedapple chat to the side. Brightpaw now has an adult sprite. Shrewkit says to Ravenweaver, "Talk to him!"]

(Yellowburst: 11, female, caretaker, adventurous, good mediator)

(Ravenweaver: 15, female, artisan, den builder, very clever)

(Shrewkit: 4, male, kit, bossy, never sits still)

(Brightpaw: 12, male, warrior apprentice, lonesome, lover of art)

(Venturedapple: 68, male, codekeeper, cold, eloquent speaker)

Currentsmoke falls through melting ice on the Great Northern River and breaks his jaw.

[Image ID: Yarrowclaw, Anchovystrike, Moontide, and Leathermask watch Currentsmoke in the distance, who has + CONDITION: BROKEN JAW under him. Yarrowclaw yowls, "Current!"]

---

Yarrowclaw had been running herself into the ground over the last quarter moon. Anchovystrike hardly saw his sister in the warrior's den, or even in camp. She always seemed to be out on some patrol, like she was the only warrior in the Clan. Anchovystrike hadn't seen Yarrowclaw sharing tongues or rest at sunhigh. Maybe Yarrowclaw was simply worried about Weevilsight and Yellowburst. Maybe she didn't know her limits now that she was a warrior. Whatever it was, Anchovystrike needed to remind his sister how to breathe, and a trip to the river seemed like the best solution.

Anchovystrike led the way, bounding through the snow like a kit. Yarrowclaw kept pace with him in a swift jog. Currentsmoke, Leathermask, and Moontide trailed behind, chatting about nothing at all. No matter where Anchovystrike looked, he couldn't see a single sliver of ichor. The land was finally pure. That alone was reason to head out!

"Maybe we can build a snowcat, like when we were kits!" Anchovystrike suggested, nudging his sister.

"We need to build a fire first," Yarrowclaw chirped. "With how long you want to spend by the river, we need to keep warm. If we have a fire, we can fish and not worry about freezing."

"Or we can have fun," Moontide laughed, hurrying to Yarrowclaw's bad side. "This isn't a patrol, Yarrow! It's a day by the river. I want to go swimming!"

"But Yarrowclaw is right," Leathermask pointed out. "We do need a fire if we want to go into the water in this weather. Even our long fur isn't going to keep us warm enough, Moontide."

"Exactly," Yarrowclaw said, tail high. "I'll find dry sticks. We will have fun, but we'll also help the Clan, check the border, find some fish, socialize…" Yarrowclaw shook out her pelt and picked up speed. "Come on!" Anchovystrike and Moontide shot each other a cocky glance, but it was Currentsmoke who raced past them first, laughing.

"Last one to the river is crowfood!" he laughed. Anchovystrike eagerly took up the challenge. His paws skidded through the snow as he picked up momentum. Moontide howled, copying her friends.

The water along the sides of the river was completely frozen. The ice glistened and burned in the sun. Rocks jutted through the ice, forever sturdy against the passing seasons. Water still flowed through the heart of the river, icy cold and skittering across the surface-level stones.

A black and white molly paced along the ice, her clawed-out eye facing the Clan cats. Crow feathers lined her pelt. Yet as she turned in her pacing, Anchovystrike realized they weren't just decor, not in his eyes. The feathers seemed to grow out of the molly's pelt as naturally as fur. A few feathers constantly drifted off and fluttered onto the snow, stark black against white. Yet when Anchovystrike blinked, those fallen feathers would vanish. What supernatural sign was this? An old memory stirred inside him of the nursery, gathered around Lemmy as she explained the origins of her odd name and just where she came from. Those feathers meant something.

"Hello?" Anchovystrike called, trotting to a stop. Yarrowclaw and Currentsmoke stared at the stranger silently, whiskers flicking in curiosity. Leathermask's fur prickled as he slid in beside Anchovystrike. Moontide stumbled past Anchovystrike, taking a moment to recognize the outsider. The black and white molly lifted her head, staring at Anchovystrike.

"RippleClan?" she called. She sat at the river's edge, feathery tail covering her downy paws. She seemed half-bird when she faced the Clan cats head-on.

"We're RippleClan, yes," Anchovystrike said, approaching the riverside. "Those feathers… are you the Witch Hunter General?"

"I am," the molly said, dipping her head, "but not the one you know. My name is Pearl. Our old General, Madeline, has passed to the Other Side. I have taken command of the Witch Hunters. I seek to honor the peace between our colonies and introduce myself as a new leader to your Clans, as a sign of friendship."

"Well, thank you!" Currentsmoke chirped. "It's nice to meet you, Pearl. I'm Currentsmoke. Yarrowclaw and I met one of your Witch Hunters a while ago! He joined RippleClan. His name used to be Venture, did you know him?"

"I was wondering where he ran off to," Pearl hummed, gently cocking her head. "Did he tell you while he left the settlement?"

"He didn't go into specifics," Currentsmoke said. Yarrowclaw left the riverside and sniffed around the trees for suitable fire materials. "He just said he wanted to leave."

"He had a good reason to," Pearl admitted. "I'm afraid after Madeline's passing, Achilles and I argued about the future of the Witch Hunters. My ascension to Witch Hunter General was not clean. I can't say either of us were fair or just, and Venture was one of a few who left the settlement because of that. I hope RippleClan is a fairer place for him to live."

"Why don't we take you to Downstar?" Currentsmoke suggested. He stepped onto the snow-covered ice of the Great Northern River. "If you want to discuss better relations, she would be the cat to talk to!" The snow crunched under Currentsmoke's weight. He watched the flowing water closely, eyeing the thickness of the ice. He playfully wiggled his flank as he gauged how far he had to jump.

"Currentsmoke, don't show off," Moontide chuckled. Currentsmoke tensed and crouched against the ice and snow. His claws snapped onto the ice. He jumped over the open water, shoving a clump of snow into the current. His front paws smacked onto the ice, the snow providing the needed friction. His back paws, however, landed on the corner of the ice. A loud crack bounced through the trees.

"Current!" Yarrowclaw yowled, shoving past her Clanmates. The ice broke away from the shore. Currentsmoke's flank tumbled into the flowing water. The ice shard flipped and smacked Currentsmoke hard in the face. The ginger and white caretaker fell limp into the river. His body caught on the stepping stones. Blood seeped from his face and thundered toward the ocean.

"Careful, careful!" Leathermask yowled as Yarrowclaw raced toward the river. Pearl scrambled to Currentsmoke, grabbing his scruff. The Witch Hunter General lifted the tom's head out of the water. Anchovystrike's stomach dropped. A huge gash trailed over Currentsmoke's cheek and his teeth stabbed through his lips. His jaw dangled at an awkward angle.

Pearl and Yarrowclaw lifted Currentsmoke out of the freezing water and off the snowy ice. Anchovystrike shoved Pearl aside and took her place carrying his brother. Anchovystrike couldn't help but whimper at the smell of Currentsmoke's blood. Anchovystrike didn't care about the Witch Hunter General, he didn't care about Yarrowclaw's bad mood or the ruined plans.

He just had to make sure Currentsmoke didn't die.

(Anchovystrike: 15, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)

(Yarrowclaw: 15, female, warrior, cold, talented fire-starter)

(Moontide: 15, female, warrior, playful, excellent teacher)

(Leathermask: 28, male, warrior, nervous, good fighter, eloquent speaker)

(Currentsmoke: 15, male, caretaker, loving, good climber, skilled toolsmith)

(Pearl: 61, female, Witch Hunter General, careful, explorer, clever)

[rippleclan]

Year 7 Allegiances

Leader:

Downstar - a gray/pale ginger tortoiseshell molly

131, wise, trusted advisor, very clever

Deputy:

Weedfoot - a rosetted silver molly

121, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter

Clerics:

Estherfern - a dark brown tabby molly

106, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker

Troutpool - a long-furred cream and white tabby molly

33, insecure, ghost sense

Honeybuzz- a gold and white rosette tom

20, daring, skilled toolsmith

Apprentice: Weevilpaw

Mediators:

Spikecrash - a masked dark brown tabby molly

47, wise, good speaker, lore keeper

Paleseed - a speckled silver molly

38, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws

Apprentice: Slushpaw

Artisans:

Rabbitjoy - a golden-brown smoke molly

109, charismatic, master weaver

Rattlepelt - a furless silver and white molly

55, thoughtful, leather artist

Mitespark - a black rosette molly

14, charismatic, great mediator

Apprentice: Ravenpaw

Historians:

Oilstripe - a ginger tabby molly

76, charismatic, ghost speaker

Lavendertwist - a ginger smoke and white tom

38, playful, great singer, good storyteller

Apprentice: Tallowpaw

Splashtuft - a long-furred, masked, gold and white tabby tom

20, adventurous, fast runner, student of art

Apprentice: Billowpaw

Codekeepers:

Lemmy - a dark gray/pale ginger tortie molly

48, cold, deep StarClan bond

Apprentice: Vervainpaw

Waspdawn - a rosetted golden and white tom with half a tail

38, strict, learner of lore, clue finder

Apprentice: Wolfpaw

Puddlewhisper - a speckled silver and white molly

38, righteous, natural intuition, ghost sense

Apprentice: Silverpaw

Caretakers:

Carnationspeckle - a brown and white ticked molly

74, compassionate, fish-like swimmer

Clammask - a masked golden tabby molly

66, righteous, lore master, good teacher

Wildclaw - a gray tabby molly

64, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter

Apprentice: Potterypaw

Elmsprout - a long-furred silver smoke and white molly

39, charismatic, helpful insight

Apprentice: Currentpaw

Mosspounce - a black tabby tom

33, adventurous, talented fire-starter

Drumtooth - a dark gray tabby tom

20, loyal, great hunter, clever

Asterblaze - a silver tabby tom

19, thoughtful, constantly fiddling with tools

Warriors:

Darkkick - a long-furred dark gray bengal trans molly

132, lonesome, talented swimmer, understands nature

Rapidleaf - a golden brown tabby molly

90, lonesome, prophecy interpreter

Apprentice: Yarrowpaw

Halibutdusk - a gray tabby cat

64, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever

Apprentice: Anchovypaw

Trumpetspore - a dark gray tabby molly

33, nervous, excellent potter, good storyteller

Scaleripple - a long-furred golden tom with vitiligo

25, lonesome, formidable fighter

Apprentice: Moonpaw

Leathermask - a long-furred, masked, golden brown and white tabby tom

20, nervous, good fighter, eloquent speaker

Apprentices:

Tallowpaw - a light brown and white ticked tabby tom

8, nervous, splashes in puddles

Slushpaw - a dark brown and white tabby molly

8, wise, quick witted, bats at string

Potterypaw - a dark ginger tabby molly

7, insecure, loves to sing

Moonpaw - a long-furred, white rosette molly

7, faithful, quick to help

Vervainpaw - a black tabby molly

7, ambitious, loves nature, quick to make peace

Weevilpaw - a dark gray/dark ginger tortie molly

7, adventurous, curious about StarClan

Ravenpaw - a black molly

7, nervous, picky nest builder, quick witted

Silverpaw - a gray smoke molly

7, strict, always asking questions, quick witted

Wolfpaw - a gray tabby molly

7, thoughtful, curious about StarClan, confident with words

Anchovypaw - a light brown and white tabby tom

7, playful, curious about StarClan

Currentpaw - a white and dark ginger smoke tom

7, loving, constantly climbing, has lots of ideas

Yarrowpaw - a dark brown and white molly

7, thoughtful, stares at fire

Billowpaw - a dark brown and white tom

7, thoughtful, active imagination

Elders:

James - a long-furred, dorsal-striped, pale ginger and white tom

148, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter

Kits:

Thunderkit - a brown molly

4, bullying, moss-ball hunter

Boughkit - a brown ticked molly

4, quiet, constantly climbing

Brightkit - a ginger tabby tom

4, shy, lover of art

Foamkit - a brown ticked molly

4, unruly, always wandering

Wolverinekit - a brown tabby molly

4, skittish, always asking questions

Yellowkit - a white and gold rosette molly

3, noisy, quick to make peace

Sandkit - a white tom

3, self-conscious, interested in Clan history

Littlekit - a speckled ginger and white tom

3, skittish, splashes in puddles

Stormkit - a masked ginger and white tabby molly

3, know-it-all, loves to eat

Lightningkit - a dorsal-striped ginger molly

2, self-conscious, always wandering

Cobaltkit - a black and white rosette molly

2, quiet, loves to eat

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 70, Part 2

Mitespark drugs Rattlepelt’s meal so she falls into a deep sleep.

[Image ID: Mitesparks speaks with Weevilkit, Anchovykit, Wolfkit, and Downstar.]

Anchovykit and his friends stayed in the quarantine den with Downstar and Honeybuzz the rest of the day while Waspdawn kept prying ears away from their conversation. There was something so adult about it all that even with Weevilkit’s terrifying description of what Rattlepelt could have done, Anchovykit still stood tall and tried to talk to his leader like a noble warrior. To his shock, Downstar and Honeybuzz didn’t talk down to him. They actually seemed to respect the kits! Maybe it was how close they were to apprenticeship, or maybe it was their powers. Whatever it was, Anchovykit liked it.

He did wish he could play a bigger role in the upcoming fight, though.

As dusk slipped away and night covered the camp, the kits pressed their ears against the walls of the shipwreck, listening to the conversations in the medicine den through layers of wood. They couldn’t hear much, but Anchovykit had a sharp picture in his mind; Rattlepelt, sitting in a nest with her bite wounds bandaged, Troutpool and Estherfern minding their business as the kits’ spy entered the den.

“Rattlepelt,” Mitespark called, voice clear through the shipwreck. “Asterblaze and I made dinner tonight. It’s just a simple soup, but I added a little salt to your bowl, since you’re hurt.”

“Hmm,” Rattlepelt huffed. “Thank you.” There was a long pause (most likely, Mitespark was setting down the bowl of soup for Rattlepelt). Eventually, Rattlepelt asked, “Did Waspdawn find out why those kits tried to kill me?”

“I think he’s still interviewing them,” Mitespark gulped. “Whatever reason they had, they’re still kits. I’m sure you can talk it through.”

“What I should do is treat them the same!” Rattlepelt suddenly yowled. 

“Rattlepelt!” Troutpool snapped, suddenly reminding Anchovykit of her presence.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t say that,” Rattlepelt growled.

“Just get some rest,” Mitespark sighed. The medicine den grew quiet. Weevilkit was the first to turn around and greet Mitespark when she looped around the shipwreck. Downstar and Honeybuzz had been waiting to the side of the den, sharing tongues. They quickly stood at the young artisan’s approach.

“Did you drug the soup?” Weevilkit asked, hurrying up to Mitespark.

“I put the medicine in, like Honeybuzz asked,” Mitespark gulped, fur prickling. “Downstar, this doesn’t feel right. Why did we need to sedate Rattlepelt?”

“Because her recent behavior hasn’t been her own,” Downstar sighed with a sorry shake of her head. “You’ve done well, Mitespark. We just need to wait for Rattlepelt to fall asleep now.”

“Do you think my parents will still be mad at me after this?” Wolfkit asked, still listening through the shipwreck.

“Once we explain the situation,” Honeybuzz promised, “Mosspounce and Lemmy will understand. You were just defending the other kits.” Wolfkit nodded, although Honeybuzz’s assurances did not ease the tension tightening through her shoulders.

“How long will it take Rattlepelt to sleep?” Weevilkit groaned. “What if she acts out again?”

“I’ll go back to the medicine den and fetch you when she’s dreaming,” Honeybuzz said. He trotted out of the quarantine den, leaving the kits to wait. Weevilkit paced around Anchovykit and Wolfkit. Her soft glow, invisible to all but Anchovykit, reminded him of the moon, shifting positions around the sky, providing a gentle but stunning light. 

“Wolfkit?” Weevilkit asked, still pacing. “Anchovykit? Do you two know what you want to train as?”

“We’re talking about this now?” Wolfkit gulped. She sat in a tight loaf. The stress building under her pelt made Anchovykit hurt just looking at her. He sat down beside Wolfkit, cocking his head to Weevilkit.

“Answer the question,” Weevilkit huffed, sitting with a dramatic thump.

“I’ll be a warrior,” Anchovykit declared. “I’ve known that forever! What else would I be?”

“Your sight would make you a good cleric,” Downstar pointed out from where she continued to lounge.

“That’s funny,” Anchovykit laughed.

“I was really impressed with Waspdawn today,” Wolfkit said, finding her voice through her fear, “even though he scared me. I would love to train with him.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Wolfkit,” Downstar promised. “Weevilkit, are you asking because you aren’t sure?”

“The opposite,” Weevilkit huffed. She stopped pacing and gave her chest a lick. “I want to be a cleric.” Really? Weevilkit; wild, commanding Weevilkit, as a humble cleric?

Before Anchovykit could pry into his friend’s odd decision, Honeybuzz hurried back to the den, panting, “She’s asleep. Let’s do this quickly.”

“To your paws, kits,” Downstar huffed as Honeybuzz scurried back to the medicine den. Downstar trotted after her youngest cleric, with the three kits on her tail. Waspdawn joined them, leaving his guard post.

The soft fire under the cleric’s personal oven illuminated part of the medicine den. The clerics’ ointments and concoctions cast soft, but disorienting shadows onto one another. Troutpool and Estherfern watched in sheer confusion as the gaggle of cats stormed inside. Rattlepelt slept in a nest tucked to the side. She seemed to drown in the black ichor that forever oozed off her legs. Anchovykit knew there was a bandage wrapped around her shoulder, but the ichor smothered it. He ground his paws into the sand. Possessed or not, how dare she even think of attacking Waspdawn’s kits?

“Honeybuzz, what’s going on?” Troutpool asked as Estherfern carefully glared at the group.

“I think you should explain this to them outside the den,” Downstar muttered. Her dark gaze revealed her true intentions. Honeybuzz flicked his ears and looped around his fellow clerics. He herded them outside like a monster pushed a horse onwards.

“Whatever this is,” Estherfern said, eyes locking on Anchovykit, “good luck.” Did she know what was happening? Whatever the case, Anchovykit quickly looked away from the brown cleric. No time to worry about creepy clerics. It was time to save Rattlepelt.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Waspdawn asked as Anchovykit crept toward Rattlepelt.

“I should,” Anchovykit gulped. He mimicked the hunter’s crouch so often demonstrated in camp. Even now, in such tense of circumstances, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if his form was right, if the adults were impressed.

The black ichor covering Rattlepelt sloshed in Anchovykit’s presence. With how close he now was, he swore the spiritual ooze had a scent; something like mushrooms, or faded autumn leaves. Anchovykit braced his poor tongue for the awful taste ahead. He carefully bit into the ichor, Ripplefern’s guidance echoing in the background. Peel it off like a lid.

“I see something!” Wolfkit gasped as Anchovykit pulled. The taste made Anchovykit want to vomit, but he pushed on. He dug his paws in, straining his neck. The ooze stuck to Rattlepelt, slimy tendrils hooking around her as Anchovykit pulled more and more of it off. Even though he only grabbed the one leg, the ichor draining from the others seemed pulled to Anchovykit’s grasp like rain falling from the sky. Fat, sticky drops flew off Rattlepelt and onto the growing mass in Anchovykit’s jaws. It was getting too big for his mouth. How much ichor was on Rattlepelt?

With a loud, decisive groan, Anchovykit wrenched his head back and pulled the last tendrils of ichor off Rattlepelt’s body. He threw the huge, squirming mass away, bile stinging his throat. The bubbling, oozing ichor (which, from the horror in the eyes around him, everyone could now see) flew across the medicine den. It splattered at Downstar’s paws with a violent squish.

“That’s a Shardling?” Waspdawn muttered as Wolfkit sneered at the pile of ichor. Weevilkit hissed as a bubble formed on the surface of the ichor and popped.

“What do we do with it?” Wolfkit asked. Downstar had no time to answer; Weevilkit suddenly jumped with a loud yowl, making everyone’s fur spike. She stared at the ichor, seeing something that Anchovykit could not… not for a few seconds, at least.

“Get out!” Weevilkit screeched, running for the exit. “Get out right now!” Anchovykit and Wolfkit immediately raced out of the medicine den, looping around the ichor. Waspdawn and Downstar scrambled back just in time. The second Downstar moved, the ichor lunged at where she had been standing, impossibly sharp fangs suddenly launching from the mess like a great beast of the sea breaching the waves.

“Stay behind me!” Downstar yelped. She skidded across the sand and shoved the kits to her back. The ichor lunged and stumbled like a drowned frog, flopping out of the medicine den. The clerics stood to the side of the den and gawked at the sight. Elmsprout, who had been dutifully on guard duty outside, rushed back into camp.

“What is that?” she yowled as the ichor bubbled and gurgled. A solid form crawled out of the ichor like a cat crawled over a cliff’s edge to save themselves from a long fall. Each feature was sharp, pointed like fangs but thick like shadows over mud. Yellow eyes, the same eyes Anchovykit had seen for the last season in Rattlepelt’s glare, burst to life along the Shardling’s angular face. It mimicked long fur with slick tendrils of ichor and darkness. Its bile stained the sand with fat, sloppy drops. Anchovykit tried to stop his tail from slinking between his legs, from cowering behind Downstar, but he could not stop himself. The Shardling’s wicked stare settled on the nursery.

“Weeeeeeeeeeeeedfoooooooooooooot!” the Shardling screeched. Its cry was claws against bark, crumbling stones and screeching bats. Before anyone could stop it, the Shardling raced into the nursery.

[Image ID: Weevilkit asks Anchovykit and Wolfkit, “Does this make us… heroes?”]

Yowling instantly enveloped the nursery. Ravenkit and Silverkit scrambled out of the den with their mother at their heels. Waspdawn, Elmsprout, and Downstar charged into the chaos. There was no choice in the matter; Anchovykit, Weevilkit, and Wolfkit followed, despite how hard their hearts pounded. 

The nursery was a thunderstorm over a raging sea. Anchovykit’s friends and littermates scrambled over each other as the Shardling ran and tripped through the nursery. The queens scrambled from their sleep, still trying to grasp what stood before them. The Shardling sneered at Weedfoot, who sat in the far back of the den. Her two tiny kits, one red, one black, mewed loudly, disturbed but unaware of the danger that lurked nearby.

“You can do it, Harvest!” Weevilkit yowled. A few seconds later, Anchovykit’s mother fulfilled Weevilkit’s prophecy. She pounced on the Shardling, screeching louder than anything Anchovykit had heard before.

“Everyone, out!” Downstar ordered. She ushered Clammask and her kits around the fight, navigating through what little room remained in the den.

“I’ll help, Mom!” someone in the horde of kits yowled. As Yarrowkit, Billowkit, and Currentkit watched as their mother spun around the den, claws locked into the monster, Robinkit charged into the fight.

“Get back!” Waspdawn roared. He shoved into the nursery, but tripped over Boughkit and Brightkit, laying curled and terrified near the exit. His large body blocked most of the scene.

“Robinkit, run!” Harvest cried. The Shardling slammed her jaw into the rock wall. Still, even with a splatter of blood staining the wall, Harvest launched back into the fight. Anchovykit could hear his brother somewhere in the mix, but had no idea what was happening to him.

“We’re smaller,” Weevilkit said, batting at Downstar’s shoulder to catch her eye. “We can get through this! We can grab the other kits!”

“You’re not apprentices yet!” Downstar snapped. At that moment, Anchovykit decided he’d take a hundred punishments from Downstar if it meant no one else got hurt.

Anchovykit dove under Waspdawn’s legs and snatched Brightkit by the leg. No time to be gentle, his denmate had to leave. He dragged Brightkit out of the den and into Weevilkit. Wolfkit lunged through the gap formed in the kit’s absence and slipped into the den.

Waspdawn grabbed Boughkit and set her beside her brother. As he moved, Anchovykit raced inside. Waspdawn ran for his kits, who screamed in their nest. Wolfkit ran face-first into Thunderkit; Foamkit and Wolverinekit ran about wildly, searching for a way around the battle rolling through the den.

“Follow me!” Wolfkit yowled. She spun back and ran out the way she came. Thunderkit, Foamkit, and Wolverinekit scrambled after their savior. Weevilkit lunged in just as Wolverinekit ran out to her littermates.

“Leave, mousebrains!” Weevilkit yowled at Anchovykit’s siblings. Billowkit and Yarrowkit hissed and shook, unable to look away the Shardling that tore its claws through Harvest’s pelt. But where was Currentkit? Anchovykit could hear his sappy little brother crying somewhere on the other side of the fight.

But it was only when Harvest kicked the Shardling aside that Anchovykit realized he no longer heard Robinkit.

Currentkit wailed over Robinkit’s body. His red face was redder than ever before, dyed with his own blood. A frozen, panicked gaze clung sightlessly to Anchovykit. Ichor dripped from Robinkit’s claws. Currentkit shook Robinkit, choking on his own cries. Anchovykit nearly vomited from the overwhelming stench of rot and mushrooms in the den.

Harvest and the Shardling rolled back, concealing Anchovykit’s dead brother once more. Anchovykit instinctively pressed closer to Yarrowkit and Billowkit, the shock of the scene before him yet to pierce into his heart as reality. Wolfkit and Weevilkit had found their way to Weedfoot, still weak from her kitting only a quarter moon ago. Weevilkit helped Weedfoot to her paws as the Shardling gorged massive lines down Harvest’s shoulder. Anchovykit yowled as his mother cried out.

“Wolfkit, the stare!” Weevilkit screamed, throwing herself over Lightningkit and Cobaltkit. “Do the stare!”

“There’s too much happening!” Wolfkit whined.

“Just do it!” Weevilkit yowled. Wolfkit dug her paws in. She squeezed her eyes tight, panting hard. Waspdawn pulled Harvest aside and ducked as Downstar flew into the nursery. The tortoiseshell leader slammed the Shardling down. Waspdawn pinned its flank, but even the might of two strong cats would not hold it for long. The Shardling bubbled and squirmed, as slippery as a fish, threatening to lift the pair off the ground.

“Wolfkit!” Weevilkit cried. Wolfkit opened her eyes. The fear that had plagued the kit all day was gone. Instead, when Anchovykit looked in Wolfkit’s eyes, he saw burning grass, a raging wildfire focused entirely on the Shardling.

The Shardling stopped moving. It froze with one paw twisted toward Downstar, ready to claw her eyes out. Its squirming, sticky pelt stilled. The hate in its yellow eyes no longer burned, but stabbed; consistent, unmoving, but still powerful. Downstar and Waspdawn panted hard, catching their breath, shaking. Harvest’s surviving kits could not look away from the monster that killed their brother. That was, not until Downstar chomped down on the Shardling’s neck.

The Shardling’s form shivered with the impact of Downstar’s fangs. Waspdawn dug into its slimy torso. Wolfkit broke her stare, squirming at the sight. Not that it mattered anymore. As Downstar tightened her grip, the Shardling began to dissolve. Its form sunk underneath Downstar and Waspdawn. The ichor oozed into the leather and sand lining the nursery. Soon, nothing remained of the horror but sticky, reeking piles of gunk. A huge crowd stood outside, yowling and trying to figure out what was unfolding inside.

“Mom,” Yarrowkit gasped. 

Anchovykit, Billowkit, Currentkit, and Yarrowkit scrambled across the den. Their paws stuck to the stained leather. Harvest laid in Waspdawn’s nest, blood oozing from her mouth. Her jaw laid broken, claw wounds staining her white markings. She breathed hard, but her green eyes remained clear, wide and shaking.

“Mom,” Currentkit sobbed as Waspdawn helped Weedfoot, Weevilkit, and Wolfkit carry the newborns outside. “Mom, Robin’s…”

“I’m sorry,” Anchovykit gulped. He pressed his paws into the large wound on Harvest’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mom. We were getting the Shardling out of Rattlepelt, I don’t know why it wanted Weedfoot.”

“What are you talking about?” Billowkit cried, sneering at his brother.

“Troutpool!” Weevilkit yowled outside. “Honeybuzz!” Harvest groaned, broken jaw twitching. Anchovykit leaned close. It was hard to understand what his mother said, but each word stunned regardless.

“You were brave,” Harvest said. “Keep being brave for me.” 

“Mom—” Anchovykit whined. Suddenly, Honeybuzz’s white paw pulled him back. He and Troutpool nudged the kits back, surrounding Harvest with baskets of medicine. Honeybuzz put his ear to Harvest’s mouth. When he didn’t stand up, Anchovykit knew his mother was gone.

Anchovykit ran outside, shoving through his Clan. Downstar herded Weevilkit and Wolfkit into her den. Anchovykit ran blind after them, cats shoving against him. Downstar looped her tail around Anchovykit as soon as he entered her den, gently nudging him toward her nest in the large, old, wooden box.

“The three of you, take a moment,” Downstar huffed. “I’m going to stand outside and answer everyone’s questions. You tell me when you want to see anyone. I promise, you all did well, you aren’t in trouble. I’ll explain everything to the Clan. Everything will be alright.” Downstar crept backward out of the den as RippleClan called her name, trying to figure out how exactly two of their Clanmates ended up dead, what just stormed through the nursery.

“Does this make us…” Weevilkit muttered, “heroes?”

“Anchovy,” Wolfkit whined, bunting Anchovykit’s side, “I’m so sorry. I should have frozen the Shardling sooner.” 

Downstar’s den glowed. As the heavy weight of loss sank deeper and deeper in Anchovykit’s lungs, soft light danced around the walls of the den. It was so much like the glow that covered Weevilkit and Wolfkit, but purer. Brighter. Calmer. It enveloped the leader’s den, spreading like a wave. Anchovykit’s weight stuck in his throat at the sight. Weevilkit didn’t see it, he was sure of that; the darkness of the night’s events still clouded her gaze. But it was like all of Silverpelt came down to say, “We know tonight was hard. We’re sorry we took them.” No, that wasn’t what they said. “We’re sorry we left.”

But with how Anchovykit saw the world, they never really would leave, would they?

(Anchovykit: 5, male, kit, charming, curious about StarClan)

(Mitespark: 12, female, artisan, charismatic, good mediator) 

(Rattlepelt: 53, female, artisan, bloodthirsty, leather artist)

(Troutpool: 31, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Weevilkit: 5, female, kit, bullying, curious about StarClan)

(Downstar: 129, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Wolfkit: 5, female, kit, polite, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Honeybuzz: 18, male, cleric, daring, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Estherfern: 104, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Waspdawn: 36, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Elmsprout: 37, female, caretaker, charismatic, helpful insight)

(Harvest: 58, female, queen, nervous, good fighter)

(Robinkit: 5, male, kit, unruly, avid play-fighter)

(Currentkit: 5, male, kit, polite, constantly climbing, has lots of ideas)

(Yarrowkit: 5, female, kit, noisy, stares at fire)

(Billowkit: 5, male, kit, bossy, active imagination)