#bearchaser

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 15

(Moon 15, Part 1)

RippleClan declares war against AshClan.

[Image ID: Downstar and Autumnstar face each other. Downstar says “We’ve had it with your bullying, Autumnstar. We are a sovereign Clan!”]

“AshClan won’t be happy,” Fennelspot groaned as Downstar led him, Rustshade, Clampaw, and Shadowpaw along the border between AshClan and WheatClan.

“I know that,” Downstar huffed. “I don’t really care if they’re mad at this point. I gave Autumnstar our ultimatum. I’m not bowing down to him anymore.” 

Clampaw walked between Downstar and Rustshade with a basket in her jaws. Flint shards littered the bottom of the basket and gently clattered together. Their shiny black surfaces caught the light of late dusk. The leaves around the RippleClan patrol were just starting to turn into their brilliant autumn colors. Shadowpaw, who wandered beside his mentor, stared at the shadows that pooled under the leaves. The human farms in WheatClan territory bloomed with the yearly harvest; fields of flax shimmered in the distance. The patrol walked in an unbroken line, with Downstar strolling along the border itself.

“I don’t like this,” Rustshade grumbled, glancing toward AshClan territory. 

“When are we going to get an actual artisan to trade with the other Clans?” Shadowpaw groaned. He shook out his pelt and walked closer to Rustshade.

“We’ll have to recruit more cats like Parsley and James,” Downstar explained. She slipped around the patrol and walked on the other side of her son. “I’m sure someone will want to be an artisan.”

“James doesn’t even do anything,” Shadowpaw grumbled with a sneer.

“He’s only been with us half a moon,” Downstar chuckled, nudging Shadowpaw. “Give him some time to adapt. He helped prep the apprentice’s den for autumn, didn’t he?”

“And then he complained about splinters,” Rustshade muttered.

“You’re supposed to be on my side, Rustshade,” Downstar laughed. Rustshade purred softly and rolled his eyes. “James is fine. We’ll all be fine.”

“So you made good on your promise,” a loud voice called. Downstar could smell Autumnstar and his patrol before she saw them as a stiff wind shoved their woody stench over her whiskers. Autumnstar shoved through the browning foliage and into a brilliant orange sunspot. The setting sun turned his orange pelt into fire and the scars around his mangled tail into currents of blood. Bearchaser, a crooked old tom who looked like a darker version of Puddlespeckle, stood at Autumnstar’s side, glaring at the RippleClan patrol. Bile rose in Downstar’s throat as she remembered Weedfoot’s horrified retelling of just what those two did to her and her friends.

“That we did,” Downstar said, marching in front of her Clanmates. “It’s just like I told you at the Gathering last night. We’re going to trade with the other Clans whether you approve of it or not. We’ll be sticking by the border, just like LynxClan does when they visit you.”

“We don’t want you wandering through our lands,” Autumnstar huffed. “All we ask is that you wait for us by our border and let us escort you past!” Autumnstar stomped up to Downstar with Bearchaser lurking behind him. The tortoiseshell leader could feel his hot breath against her whiskers. “We let you trade with the other three Clans, we let you attend Gatherings, we let your antsy little cleric there freely visit StarClan’s Shrine, what more do you want from us?”

“Respect,” Downstar hissed. “We’ve had it with your bullying, Autumnstar. We are a sovereign Clan! We will conduct our own business with our neighbors and we will not let you hound after us!”

“StarClan would not allow a band of traitors to so easily enjoy the well-fought privileges you demand from us,” Autumnstar hissed. He stepped back and glared at each member of the patrol. Clampaw squirmed next to her father and Shadowpaw lifted his chin at Downstar’s side, forgetting the fact that he was half of Autumnstar’s size. “Everything you have is because of charm and pity. You’ve won nothing by the strength of your own claws. How can we ever respect a Clan that is too afraid to stand its ground?”

“Meet us by the border, and we’ll show you who can stand their ground,” Downstar snapped. “If our words mean nothing to you, we’ll show how strong we really are. RippleClan, we’re leaving.” Rustshade nudged Clampaw onward. Fennelspot lurked behind Downstar, glancing over her back at Autumnstar’s burning yellow eyes. 

“Good job, Mom!” Shadowpaw whispered as the stiff winds that whistled through the trees sent clouds over the half-set sun. Downstar looked over her shoulder toward Autumnstar and Bearchaser, but the duo were already returning to their territory.

“Downstar, did you just declare war on Autumnstar?” Fennelspot gulped, scampering in front of her. “They have so many cats! Downstar, we have maybe ten cats who can actually fight them off!”

“I wish we didn’t have to,” Downstar groaned, stepping around Fennelspot, “but Autumnstar won’t respect us without a fight. We need to get back to camp quickly. I need fresh paws. Hurry, everyone!” Downstar ran along the border. The sound of clattering flint was her only indication that the others were following her. Fennelspot ran alongside her, the worry as evident on his face as the clouds were evident in the sky. A few drops of rain speckled Downstar’s pelt as she ran to inform her Clan of what she hoped was the best decision.

(Fennelspot: 72, male, cleric,  insecure, valuable insight, incredible runner)

(Downstar: 74, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Rustshade: 59, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Shadowpaw: 7, male, codekeeper apprentice, adventurous, confident with words)

(Clampaw: 9, female, caretaker apprentice, lonesome, interested in Clan history)

Despite wishing Autumnstar would listen, Downstar feels forced to send a border patrol out to the AshClan border and prepare for an assault.

[Image ID: Downstar and Weedfoot face each other. Weedfoot says, “There will be other battles. It’s too dangerous out here!”]

---

The clouds that overtook the sunset brought a strong rain with them. It was the sort of rain that glued Weedfoot’s fur to her skin and turned the ground into slick mud. She helped Oilstripe, Scrubmask, and Parsley keep their footing as they made their way to the AshClan border. Downstar led the way, her soft and fluffy fur transformed into a soaked mess. The cold rain turned the world gray and nearly blinded Weedfoot. The only way Weedfoot could tell they were at the border was by the sight of those ever familiar trees with AshClan scratches lining the trunks.

“Mark as much of the border as you can!”  Downstar yowled as the sky rumbled.. “Be ready to challenge any AshClan cats you see!” 

“Downstar, the rain is going to wash away any scent we leave behind!” Oilstripe called, her belly fur sagging with water weight. 

“I know Autumnstar,” Downstar snapped, “you don’t! He won’t wait for the rain to pass to show his strength. If our scent isn’t fresh, he’s going to come here and claim our territory! We need to make a stand tonight! We’re walking the whole border tonight.” Downstar pushed past Oilstripe and marched along the border. Scrubmask looked half-drowned from the rain, but she dutifully searched for a spot to mark.

“If there’s one thing I miss about my old barn,” Parsley groaned, shaking herself out, “it’s the water-proof roof.” Her paws slid in the mud, but she followed after Downstar. Oilstripe pressed into Weedfoot as her dirty claws searched for solid ground.

“Weedfoot, I don’t like this,” Oilstripe gulped. She coughed out the ever-intrusive rain and said, “This is a big storm. It’s not safe to be out here!”

“Downstar’s right,” Weedfoot huffed. The mud sucked at her paws as she followed the rest of the patrol. “With what she’s said to Autumnstar, he’ll be looking to reclaim the territory we took from him. Fresh scent markers may deter him for a bit.”

“I can’t even smell you, Weedfoot!” Oilstripe whined. Her eyes bounced around as though searching for hidden enemies. “Weedfoot, if we stay here, I think one of us is going to die.”

“It’s just a storm, Oil,” Weedfoot promised, touching her nose to Oilstripe’s ear. Thunder grumbled once more as distant lightning flashed in the clouds. Oilstripe jumped into Weedfoot and nearly knocked her over.

“Weedfoot, do you trust me?” Oilstripe yowled.

“Always,” Weedfoot said immediately.

“Then get us home before something horrible happens,” Oilstripe snapped. Up ahead, Downstar and Scrubmask were marking the border. The rain disrupted their process, but they closed their eyes and pressed on. Weedfoot hurried through the mud, squinting as the wind blew the rain into her eyes.

“Downstar, let’s head back!” Weedfoot yowled.

“We’ve only marked a portion of the border!” Downstar snapped, turning her face against the wind. “If we don’t mark more of it, Autumnstar will swipe it for himself! Winter is coming, we need this land!”

“We have the entire ocean!” Weedfoot cried as lightning screamed somewhere in the distance. “We’ll have enough prey! It’s just land, Downstar! Storms like this send trees and mudslides down. We can’t get stuck here. Think of your kits!”

“I am!” Downstar yowled. Rain dripped from her face into her wild amber eyes. She hissed and shook out her pelt, but the water came right back. A new crack of thunder echoed through the Clans with such force that the entire patrol jumped. Downstar’s back arched as high as the Shiprock.

“There will be other battles,” Weedfoot promised, reaching a mud-soaked paw toward Downstar. “It’s too dangerous out here!”

“StarClan’s telling us to go back,” Oilstripe huffed, slipping beside Weedfoot.

“You aren’t a cleric, Oilstripe, you don’t know what StarClan wants,” Downstar hissed.

“I can guess!” Oilstripe yowled as more thunder roared overhead.

“Even the humans huddle inside in a storm like this, Ms. Downstar,” Parsley added, mud clinging to the back of her legs. “There’s no shame in it. Autumnstar’s a fool if he brings his cats out here, and I’m sorry, but you’d be a fool to make us stay.” Downstar’s back slowly smoothed out. The ground was more water than mud at that point. Downstar’s paws splashed rather than sunk into the ground. She stared at the puddle she found herself in.

“Then we’ll go home,” Downstar huffed. Her ears sunk as she turned away from the border. Oilstripe bolted ahead, any patrol decorum lost in the face of such a loud storm. Downstar took the hint and picked up the pace. Weedfoot helped Parsley and Scrubmask through the mud as her neck burned under the eyes of unseen AshClan warriors.

(Weedfoot: 64, female, deputy, charismatic, very clever, formidable fighter)

(Oilstripe: 19, female, historian, charismatic, ghost sight)

(Downstar: 74, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Parsley: 109, female, warrior, righteous, good speaker)

(Scrubmask: 32, female, warrior, gloomy, fast runner, good hunter)

Halibutpaw convinces his siblings to defend the border with him.

[Image ID: Shadowpaw, Graypaw, and Halibutpaw gather in the bottom left corner. Halibutpaw yowls “And stay out!” at a distant gray and white tom in the upper right corner.]

---

The storm a quarter moon prior made the territory look more like mid summer than early autumn. The rain and thunder had knocked the colored leaves off their trees, leaving only those still clinging to their green glory. The ground had finally dried, at least, allowing Halibutpaw and his littermates to journey across the territory with dry feet.

“Mom will be so mad at us when we get back,” Graypaw giggled, wiggling her flank.

“How can she be?” Halibutpaw scoffed. “This is our job.”

“Technically, it’s our jobs when we’re with our mentors,” Shadowpaw reminded him. He walked on Halibutpaw’s right and kept an eye out for other cats, AshClan or RippleClan. 

“Yes…” Halibutpaw admitted, dragging his back foot for emphasis, “but don’t you think they’ll be impressed if we can get some of our territory back?”

“Autumnstar may respect our gusto,” Shadowpaw said with a flick of his whiskers. “He seems like the sort to appreciate a move like this. It’s what he did to us during the storm.”

“We’re here!” Graypaw said. She ran in front of her brothers and eyed the land ahead. The siblings were partway through the forest northwest of camp. If Halibutpaw climbed a tree, he could probably see the old border, but it was too shrouded in shrubbery and trees to see from where he stood. AshClan scent drifted off each rock and stained the earth around them.

“According to Weedfoot,” Shadowpaw said, sniffing the new border, “this is where AshClan territory used to end before Mom founded RippleClan.”

“The patrol should have stuck around,” Graypaw huffed. She scratched at the grass. “If they hadn’t come back to camp, Autumnstar might not have moved the border.”

“They also might have died,” Halibutpaw groaned, one ear turned to Graypaw as he sniffed for fresh scent. “Either way, it’s the same; Mom starts moping around camp like she did right after Duskkit died.” For a few moments, Halibutpaw wondered what his older sister would have done had she become an apprentice. She probably would have suggested their little adventure days earlier. 

“Shadowpaw and I came up with this little trick a while back,” Graypaw said, trotting up to a tall fir. “It’s sunhigh, so whatever unfortunate soul Autumnstar picked for border patrol should be coming around any minute now. If we wait up here for them, we’ll show them we’re serious when we move the border.” Graypaw scurried up the fir, sending crumbs of bark tumbling after her. Shadowpaw was at her heels, and Halibutpaw climbed up a moment later. Graypaw and Shadowpaw delicately balanced on the thicker branches of the fir, studying the ground below, while Halibutpaw wrapped his paws around the branch and kept still. His tiny heart flew into his throat.

“Halibutpaw, even if you fall, you’ll land on your feet,” Shadowpaw scoffed.

“I know!” Halibutpaw huffed, staring dead ahead. “I just realized that I… don’t like heights.”

“Scaredy-mouse,” Graypaw sang, swaying her tail back and forth.

“I am not a scaredy-mouse,” Halibutpaw snapped. “Now stay focus! AshClan could be here any minute!”

“This is so exciting!” Graypaw cheered in a whisper. 

It didn’t take long for someone to appear. It was a silver and white tom with laurel leaves tucked into his fur. From the way his white pattern laid on him, it was like his front half was dipped in white dye.

“Anyone recognize him?” Halibutpaw whispered as his littermates noticed the new arrival.

“That’s Heronflank,” Shadowpaw explained. “He became a codekeeper last moon. I met him at the Gathering. He’s a nice tom. Maybe we should wait for someone else.” His paws shifted back.

“AshClan won’t be back here for ages!” Graypaw groaned. “We’re doing this.” She glared back at Shadowpaw, who stiffened and crouched along the branch. “Halibut, unclench!”

“I don’t think I can,” Halibutpaw gulped.

“Then you can just watch us,” Graypaw purred, eyeing Heronflank below like prey. The unassuming codekeeper carefully marked the new border, yawning as he did so. Graypaw and Shadowpaw danced on their feet, stalking closer and closer. Graypaw raised her tail high. Halibutpaw swallowed hard and slowly unpried his front legs from around the branch. His unsure paws dug into the wood. Before Halibutpaw could pry his feet up, Graypaw and Shadowpaw jumped from the tree.

The two gray tabbies landed on Heronflank before he realized what was happening. Heronflank yowled and screeched, batting at the two as Graypaw attached herself to his back. He smashed her into the fir trunk while Shadowpaw clawed at his side.

“Who’s a coward now?” Graypaw laughed as she fell off Heronflank. 

Heronflank spun and kicked Shadowpaw in the jaw. He pinned Graypaw down and bit into her scruff. Her scream ripped Halibutpaw’s feet off the branch. He launched off the tree, claws unseathed and eyes shut, yowling the whole way down. His claws struck something soft as they flailed. Heronflank screamed as Halibutpaw landed on all four paws in front of him. Halibutpaw inched an eye open as he processed the fact that he hadn’t died. A long claw wound ran down Heronflank’s right eye. Blood dripped into his eye and turned it from green-yellow to brown. Heronflank stumbled back, desperately blinking the blood out. He scrambled back into AshClan territory as the blood trickled down his jaw.

“And stay out!” Halibutpaw yowled, panting.

“Ha ha ha, yes!” Graypaw cheered. “We scared him off! Come on! Let’s move the border before he brings reinforcements!” Graypaw hurried over the border. Halibutpaw stared at his feet. Blood and fur stuck to one of his paws. 

“Did I just blind someone?” Halibutpaw gulped as Graypaw moved the border further into AshClan territory.

“AshClan has a good cleric,” Shadowpaw said, rubbing his chin on his shoulder. “Heronflank should be fine. Let’s help Graypaw before she yowls at us.” Shadowpaw joined Graypaw further into the trees. Halibutpaw rubbed his paw into the grass and ran after the others.

[Image ID: Parsley, Rustshade, Carnationspeckle, Oilstripe, and Burdockpaw stand in a line on the bottom half of the screen. In the upper half, in the distance, we see AshClan cats; Barkfur, Eelgrowl, Autumnstar, a ginger tom, and Bearchaser, in that order. Carnationspeckle says “StarClan, what did they do?”]

Halibutpaw, Graypaw, and Shadowpaw took a chunk out of AshClan’s new border, marking as much of it as they could. They made it all the way to the WheatClan border before Halibutpaw suggested they turn back. Sunhigh had passed, and the rest of RippleClan was certainly looking for them. 

“Do you think Rustshade will be impressed with me?” Shadowpaw asked.

“He’d be a fool not to!” Graypaw laughed. “Oh, did that bite draw blood earlier?” She lowered her head. Shadowpaw and Halibutpaw stared at her scruff.

“I think he bruised the skin,” Halibutpaw said. Graypaw groaned and kicked a small stone. Shadowpaw chuckled, but his ears perked up. 

“Do you two hear something?” Shadowpaw asked. Halibutpaw and Graypaw tilted their ears. Somewhere in the distance, voices yowled through the trees.

“Graypaw?” the voices called. “Shadowpaw? Halibutpaw? Anyone?”

“That’s Carnationspeckle,” Graypaw chirped. “Let’s tell her what we did!” 

As Graypaw preened in her imagined praise, shapes danced within the bushes. Halibutpaw dropped as figures ran through the trees toward Carnationspeckle’s cries. The brown molly herself slipped through the scrub with Parsley, Rustshade, Oilstripe, and Burdockpaw behind her.

“Halibutpaw?” Shadowpaw gulped. Before Halibutpaw could say anything, a wizened gray tom soared into view and collided with the patrol. Shadowpaw and Graypaw dropped as Autumnstar raced toward RippleClan with Eelgrowl, Barkfur, and a ginger tom thundering beside him.

“StarClan, what did they do?” Carnationspeckle yowled as she pulled the gray tom, Bearchaser, off Rustshade.

“My son was doing his job, you fox-hearts!” Bearchaser screeched. “You nearly blinded him!” Halibutpaw pressed his full body into the earth as AshClan collided with RippleClan. 

“Our first battle!” Graypaw gasped. “We need to help!” Autumnstar and Parsley locked into each other’s shoulders. Burdockpaw faced down Barkfur and held his focus as Oilstripe attacked from the side. Bearchaser turned on Carnationspeckle and slammed her head down.

“You realize Bearchaser fought an actual bear?” Halibutpaw hissed. “Do you know what he might do if he sees me?”

“We can’t stay here!” Graypaw huffed. 

“You’re not going to.” The three gray apprentices yelped and spun around. Rustshade loomed over them, a tuft of fur torn off his shoulder.

“How did you get over here so fast?” Shadowpaw stammered.

“We’re going back to camp, now,” Rustshade hissed. He pulled Shadowpaw to his feet.

“But the others!” Halibutpaw gulped.

“They’ll handle it!” Rustshade snapped. “You’re not ready for this. Hunter’s crouch, all of you. Stay low and stay quiet.” Rustshade dropped into a low crouch and glared at the apprentices. Slowly, each one copied the ginger codekeeper. He shoved them forward and kept his eyes locked on their identical pelts as they snuck away from the disaster of their own creation.

(Halibutpaw: 7, male, warrior apprentice, impulsive, quick witted, lover of stories)

(Graypaw: 7, female, caretaker apprentice, bloodthirsty, careful listener)

(Shadowpaw: 7, male, codekeeper apprentice, adventurous, confident with words)

(Carnationspeckle: 17, female, caretaker, compassionate, talented swimmer)

(Rustshade: 59, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

[urbanwildlifelover]

Close Encounter: Bears Chase Each Other.

I was outfront picking up spilled fish from the tub when two bears went flying past me. They were chasing each other just a few feet from where I stood! Living with wildlife certainly has its exciting moments. #animals #bear #wildlife #blackbear #wildanimals #omg #Bearchase #bears #bearencounter #wow

[cuddles4dad]

[arkannwolf]

[theleatherbarebear]

"Well, my friends, the time has come ♡ To raise the roof and have some fun ♡ Throw away the work to be done ♡ Let the music play on..." - L.R. Just a pair of booze bound boyfriends sporting these fresh comfy custom made mask by thee beyond talented @daaangtamara before we stock up on "quickie market" essentials... definitely owe her some dranks and post quarantine hugs!!! Grateful to be enjoying a commercialize holiday weekend 🇲🇽 w/ @emandance and friends via the power zoom all weekend long! 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🍻🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍 #aesthetic #allnightlove #bearcub #bearchaser #blackblogger #blackandwhitephotography #boyfriendstyle #clarknova #craftshop #cincodemayo #cincodemayoweekend #freelove #friendsinmyfeed #hairstylists #lionelrichie #losangeleslife #madonnafans #mask4mask #staysafe #strikeapose #supportsmallbusiness #supportlocal (at Van Nuys, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/B_qwVMZj64I/?igshid=s6c1m8xmm2hp

[joaogalrao]

Morning first cigarette 2 2019. Pen drawing on paper. A3 Size. Available #joaogalrao #art #drawing #dailyart #gayart #contemporaryart #artoftoday #instagay #bearchaser #artistofinstagram (at Sintra, Portugal) https://www.instagram.com/p/B21WwrzJ_qd/?igshid=1haa6jya32w1q

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 17

RippleClan wins back their lost territory from AshClan.

[Image ID: Burdockpaw, Oilstripe, Weedfoot, and James watch as Barkfur and Bearchaser run off in the upper right corner.]

“Behind you!” Oilstripe yowled. Burdockpaw spun and swung his claws at the AshClan warrior launching at his flank. His claws connected with the warrior’s cheek and disrupted their launch. They tumbled over themselves, giving Burdockpaw the perfect chance to jump on their back. He bit into the warrior’s shoulder. The warrior squirmed and kicked, but Burdockpaw held on. Eventually, the warrior landed on their back and smashed Burdockpaw. They scurried deeper into the fight that raged along the AshClan border.

There were four cats in the battle patrol; Burdockpaw, Oilstripe, Weedfoot, and James. They hadn’t intended it to be a battle patrol, technically. It was an organized version of the younger apprentices’ mouse-brained plan, where they would move the border back in as a show of strength. AshClan was waiting for them, though, with their own five-cat battle patrol. 

Weedfoot tumbled out from behind a tree, her claws locked into Barkfur’s pelt. Barkfur dug into Weedfoot’s shoulder. As Weedfoot howled and Burdockpaw readied himself to help the beloved deputy, James charged into Barkfur. James was a giant compared to Barkfur and threw the scarred brown cat into a tree.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Weedfoot panted as Barkfur crawled off.

“I had to handle my fair share of challenges while traveling with humans,” James huffed, spitting brown fur out of his mouth. “That does not mean I enjoy it.”

“Thanks for coming along,” Weedfoot sighed. She noticed Burdockpaw scanning the battle and called, “Burdockpaw, with us!” Burdockpaw scampered up to Weedfoot and James. 

Weedfoot led them toward Oilstripe and Bearchaser. The AshClan warrior from earlier ran up to the fighting pair, ready to help Bearchaser, but James stampeded into them. Weedfoot and Burdockpaw dug into Bearchaser’s shoulders and pulled him off Oilstripe. As Weedfoot and Oilstripe turned on Bearchaser, fangs dug into Burdockpaw’s tail and pulled him back. It was a young apprentice, one Burdockpaw didn’t recognize. Her huge eyes bounced in her head. She was frozen, jaws locked on Burdockpaw’s tail.

“I’m sorry,” she gulped, letting Burdockpaw pull his tail free. “Don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me.”

“Why would I kill you?” Burdockpaw snapped. “We’re Clan cats. We don’t kill each other.”

“You’re not a real Clan, though,” the apprentice whined.

“What?” Burdockpaw hissed, sneering. The apprentice’s back arched. She stepped back, eyes stuck on Burdockpaw.

“Nettlestep!” the apprentice cried. A loud snarl snapped Burdockpaw backed into the battle just as a golden-ginger molly threw him onto his shoulder.

“I’ve got him, Smallpaw!” Nettlestep yowled.. As Nettlestep glanced over her white-speckled shoulder, Burdockpaw freed his front paw and sliced his claws against Nettlestep’s belly. Blood dribbled between his pads. Smallpaw screeched as Nettlestep stumbled back and Burdockpaw scrambled free, throwing himself into a sparring position. Smallpaw ran to her mentor’s side and pushed against her, shaking.

“I’m okay, Smallpaw,” Nettlestep purred, curling around her belly.

“AshClan, fall back!” Bearchaser spat. The other AshClan and RippleClan cats all sported their fair share of torn fur, bruises, and scratches. James groaned and plucked brown fur out from between his paws while Weedfoot and Oilstripe stood back to back, panting. Barkfur and the other AshClan warrior gathered beside Bearchaser, who had a cut above his eye. Smallpaw watched Burdockpaw like a stampeding horse as she helped Nettlestep over to their Clanmates. RippleClan stayed put as AshClan slunk into their territory.

“We did it!” Oilstripe gasped. “We finally beat them! We beat them, Weedfoot! We beat them!” Oilstripe shoved her face into Weedfoot’s neck, purring deeply. Weedfoot purred back and groomed her former apprentice’s head.

“We need to mark the old border while we have the time,” Weedfoot sighed, glancing between James and Burdockpaw. “Can you two handle it?”

“I suppose,” James sighed, spitting out more fur. “I’m simply glad that whole ordeal is over.” 

“I’ll show you where to mark,” Burdockpaw said. He shook out his pelt (and the odd guilt that rippled out from his blood-soaked foot) and trotted up to James.

“You were great, Burdockpaw,” Oilstripe purred, still out of breath. “Really. We wouldn’t have driven them off without your help.”

“Thanks, Oilstripe,” Burdockpaw said, standing tall under the praise. A thought flickered over Oilstripe’s eyes. She moved away from Weedfoot and studied Burdockpaw. The red tom panted and rubbed his dirty paw into the grass.

“Burdockpaw,” Oilstripe hummed, tail rising, “how would you like to earn your name early?”

(Oilstripe: 21, female, historian, charismatic, ghost sight)

(Burdockpaw: 11, male, historian apprentice, loyal, interested in Clan history)

(Weedfoot: 66, female, deputy, charismatic, very clever, formidable fighter)

(James: 93, male, caretaker, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

Burdockcreek is honored for getting RippleClan territory back through an early historian ceremony.

[Image ID: Burdockcreek sits in the middle of the screen. Under him, it reads LEVEL UP! BURDOCKPAW -> BURDOCKCREEK, LOYAL -> CONFIDENT, INTERESTED IN CLAN HISTORY -> LEARNER OF LORE.]

(Burdockcreek: 11, male, historian, confident, learner of lore)

Although Halibutpaw feels better, now Shadowpaw pushes himself too far during training.

[Image ID: Shadowpaw sits in the middle of the screen. Under him, it reads + CONDITION: SORE.]

---

Shadowpaw had his mentor to thank for such a great sparring spot. There was a portion of the territory, north of the shipwreck, where the sand stretched further inland but the ocean only touched it at high tide. The sand mingled with grass and created a soft, effective place to throw his brother as hard as he could.

“Gentle, little Shadow!” Parsley laughed as Shadowpaw once more grabbed Halibutpaw by the scruff and shoved his face into the sand. “We don’t need your brother paying Mr. Fennelspot another visit so soon!” She sat with Rustshade at the edge of the sand, nibbling at an itch above her stump.

“I’m fine, Parsley,” Halibutpaw sighed. He pulled his head out of the sand and sneezed. 

“Now my neck hurts,” Shadowpaw groaned. He stretched his neck out but a ripple of pain ran down his spine.

“That’s why you only perform that move on smaller cats,” Rustshade sighed. He got up and stood between the two gray brothers. “You both need to learn how to pace yourselves in a fight. You have a habit of pushing yourselves too far at the start and straining your muscles.”

“That’s better than letting a codebreaker escape,” Shadowpaw said. He gently arched his back, but the muscles around his shoulders were stiff and ached when he moved. Rustshade’s attention shifted to the shipwreck in the distance, where the gentle smoke of the oven drifted into the sky.

“Go back to camp and have some of what Graypaw and Carnationspeckle are cooking,” Rustshade sighed. “I mean it, toms. Straight back to camp, no side-tracking.”

“You aren’t coming with?” Halibutpaw asked, nose twitching like there was still sand inside.

“I want to walk with Parsley for a while,” Rustshade huffed.

“About what?” Halibutpaw asked again. Rustshade’s uncanny eyes merely drifted over Halibutpaw, but that was enough to stop the young tom’s questions.

“Go home and rest,” Rustshade sighed, heading back to Parsley. He whispered something to the tortoiseshell and the pair walked into the trees beyond the beach.

“I might have to talk to Fennelspot,” Shadowpaw groaned as his neck twinged again. “Either that or sleep the rest of the day.”

“Alright,” Halibutpaw mumbled. He walked close to Shadowpaw in the direction of the shipwreck. Shadowpaw had no interest in an adventure at the moment, but he eyed Halibutpaw, just in case he got another troublesome idea. His stocky brother was silent, however.

“It was just a training session, Halibut,” Shadowpaw said, his usual confidence slipping as Halibutpaw’s fur sagged.

“That’s not the problem,” Halibutpaw groaned. “Do… do you think Mom was right to go to war against AshClan? They’re so much bigger than we are.”

“Weedfoot says violence is the best way to show them we’re a serious Clan,” Shadowpaw said. 

“I wish we hadn’t attacked Heronflank,” Halibutpaw grumbled. He dragged his paws in the cool sand. 

“We were a little excited,” Shadowpaw admitted, ears tilting back.

“I nearly blinded him,” Halibutpaw suddenly snapped, lips curled, “that’s more than being overexcited, Shadow! Ugh, I hate fighting! I hate war!” Halibutpaw kicked the sand. Shadowpaw decided not to point out that Halibutpaw was a warrior apprentice of all things.

“I’m sorry, I picked the wrong words,” Shadowpaw huffed, stopping for a moment. “We won’t fight AshClan forever! Besides, Mom keeps sending us back to camp when we see them. 

You probably won’t fight them again.”

“Please don’t tell Graypaw I said that,” Halibutpaw groaned. “She’ll call me a mouse-heart.”

“I’m not stupid,” Shadowpaw scoffed, rolling his eyes. “We’ll leave the bloodlust to her, does that sound good?”

“What sounds good,” Halibutpaw sighed, jogging ahead of Shadowpaw, “is taking a nap!”

“Hey, you know I’m sore!” Shadowpaw yowled. Despite the aches biting at his shoulders, Shadowpaw ran after his brother, hoping he made things just a bit better.

(Shadowpaw: 9, male, codekeeper apprentice, adventurous, confident with words)

(Parsley: 111, female, warrior, righteous, good speaker)

(Halibutpaw: 9, male, warrior apprentice, impulsive, quick witted, lover of stories)

(Rustshade: 61, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

Rustshade and Parsley find a loner on patrol.

[Image ID: A reddish-brown cat sits to the left. Under her, it reads NEW PLAYER: RABBITJOY, 54 MOONS, FEMALE, CHARISMATIC, MASTER WEAVER. Rustshade and Parsley stand to the right. Rustshade says “You came back!”]

---

“Now Mr. Rust,” Parsley hummed as Rustshade led her deeper into RippleClan’s forest, “what was so important that you sent our Clan’s two troublemakers home alone?” Compared to Rustshade’s silent paws, Parsley thundered through the territory; her heavy paws had to land hard to make up for her missing counterbalance. She chose each step carefully, avoiding crunchy leaves while she questioned Rustshade’s intentions.

“I merely wanted to go hunting without those two on our tails,” Rustshade hummed. “You’re the first newcomer to RippleClan, but I don’t know you well.”

“Well isn’t that sweet,” Parsley chuckled. She caught up to Rustshade and walked alongside him. “My story is free to hear, but I’m afraid it’s rather dull. I spent my whole life tending that barn, and this is how the humans thanked me.” She wiggled her stump. 

“We’re glad to have you,” Rustshade sighed. “Let me know if the other Clans keep bothering you about your name. I’ll handle them.”

“How gallant,” Parsley chuckled. Her ears shot up as leaves crumbled somewhere off the small dirt path (carved from a year’s worth of cats following the trail to favorite hunting spots). Rustshade noticed it too, for his gaze shot into the trees.

“That was too big to be a squirrel,” he whispered. His tail stiffened and he tasted the air. Parsley smelled it too; it was a cat. She sniffed again, checking for the familiar woodsy scent of AshClan, but instead, the scent of hay and humans drifted through her whiskers.

“A loner,” Parsley hummed. “Must be new to the area. Speaking from experience, strays around here know better than to linger inside your borders.”

“You still have loner scent on you,” Rustshade muttered, flicking his tail toward the noise. “Speak to whoever is out there. Let’s not scare them.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Parsley hummed. She stepped off the path as more leaves crunched from behind a tree fox-lengths away. Parsley cleared her throat and called, “Excuse me! Hello? We don’t mean to frighten you, but are you aware you’re on Clan land?” The noises behind the tree stilled. “No need to be scared, whoever you are. We don’t go mauling kittypets around these parts. My name is Parsley. Care to share?”

“That’s not a Clan name,” a rattling voice muttered. The tip of a brown tail peeked out from behind the tree. Rustshade passed Parsley, his eyes huge and tail slowly rising.

“Rabbitfall?” Rustshade called. A reddish-brown cat stepped into the light of early dusk. Light blue eyes shifted from tight slits to an open, warming gaze.

“I changed it,” the cat chuckled. “It didn’t fit me anymore. Can you call me Rabbitjoy?”

“You came back!” Rustshade gasped. Rabbitjoy purred and strolled up to Rustshade. She touched noses with him and closed her eyes.

“I couldn’t stay away,” Rabbitjoy hummed. She stepped back and said, “Did you do it?”

“We’re RippleClan now,” Rustshade purred. He motioned for Parsley to come closer.

“After everything that happened,” Rabbitjoy sighed, her harsh purrs making her body shake, “I wasn’t sure RippleClan would survive.”

“We even have loners in our Clan,” Rustshade explained, walking around Parsley. “This is Parsley. She was the first loner we welcomed in.”

“I assume it is a pleasure to meet you,” Parsley said, eyeing Rustshade. “Care to introduce me to your friend?”

“Rabbitjoy was in WheatClan with me,” Rustshade explained, suddenly at Rabbitjoy’s side. “She was part of our group back in the day. She helped me break Weedfoot out of AshClan’s camp. I couldn’t have done it without her.”

“I shouldn’t have left like I did,” Rabbitjoy said, looking away from the two Clan cats. “Lavenderleaf was dead. I… I was going to make a life with her in a new Clan. I didn’t know how I could do that without her.” Rabbitjoy shook her head and straightened up, adding “That was Rabbitfall. I’m Rabbitjoy now. I don’t want my fear to keep me from home.”

“Does that mean you’re ready?” Rustshade asked. His eyes were more intense, more open than Parsley had ever seen Rustshade look. 

“I am,” Rabbitjoy said with a deep breath. “I promised I would come back when I was ready, and I don’t break my promises.”

“This way,” Rustshade said, racing through the trees. Parsley scrambled after him, but Rabbitjoy seemed perfectly at ease with Rustshade’s new-found energy. She pelted after Rustshade and slipped into a comfortable rhythm. 

“I want to hear everything I missed,” Rabbitjoy cooed as the shipwreck appeared through the trees.

“We’ll be happy to share,” Rustshade hummed. He slowed to a jog as the camp entrance came into view. Rabbitjoy lagged behind him. She stared at the massive shipwreck with eyes as big and helpless as a kit’s. 

“Take it from me,” Parsley purred, moving to Rabbitjoy’s side. Rustshade realized his friend had stopped and rejoined her. “This is one of the most welcoming bunch of cats I’ve had the pleasure to meet. The only thing you’ll get from them is a warm hello.” Rabbitjoy released the nervous breath billowing in her chest. She steadied her paws and marched into camp.

Weedfoot must have been telling Oilstripe and Locustpaw a story before the three cats entered camp, as Rustshade’s offspring were sitting beside her, but they were quiet, staring at Rabbitjoy. More faces turned Rabbitjoy’s way as the newcomer studied the sand under her paws, the wreckage that littered camp, the familiar and strange faces peeking out from each den and corner. 

Rabbitjoy’s focus settled on Weedfoot. Weedfoot couldn’t look away from the newcomer. Oilstripe stared at Rabbitjoy like she had descended from Silverpelt. Weedfoot’s whiskers quivered. Whispered questions fluttered about as Weedfoot walked toward Rabbitjoy.

“I’m ho—” Rabbitjoy purred. Weedfoot collided into Rabbitjoy. Her round head pressed deep into the soft fur of Rabbitjoy’s neck, which muffled Weedfoot’s crying.

“Rabbit, I’m sorry,” Weedfoot sobbed. “I’m so sorry, I tried to make her run, I’m sorry.”

“Weedy, you apologized when we got you out,” Rabbitjoy cooed, licking Weedfoot’s cheek. “I don’t blame you anymore. I forgave you moons ago.” 

Parsley backed up as a crowd formed around Rabbitjoy and Weedfoot. Rustshade vanished behind his daughter. Questions became as common as clouds, but Parsley walked around the Clan toward the warrior’s den. She knew when to give her friends room to breathe, even if others didn’t.

(Rustshade: 61, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Parsley: 111, female, warrior, righteous, good speaker)

(Rabbitjoy: 54, female, artisan, charismatic, master weaver) 

(Oilstripe: 21, female, historian, charismatic, ghost sight)

(Locustpaw: 11, nonbinary (they/them), historian apprentice, troublesome, moss-ball hunter)

[ursojoao]

Realize deeply that the present moment is all you have. Make the NOW the primary focus of your life! Time isn’t precious at all, because it is an illusion. What you perceive as precious is not time but the one point that is out of time: the Now. That is precious indeed. The more you are focused on time—past and future—the more you miss the Now, the most precious thing there is. . . . . . . . . . . . . #instabear #bearwww #sexybeard #bearchaser #bearchaser #thebearmag #homobears #purebloodedbears #gaybeard #beardedhomo #stockybears #ursos #chunkyguys #bearscubsandscruff #gaybear #thescruffybear #bearsofinstagram #beardsofinstagram #gaybeard #beardedgay (at Majahual, Quintana Roo, Mexico) https://www.instagram.com/p/BpYFma5Fx7pWi5ix3lz9RxpO0D2h0me86ZRaZs0/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=67wlmrjhaju5

[desmojarp-blog]

[arkannwolf]

#Loquera #Loco #InstaGay #GayChaser #InstaChaser #InstaBeard #BrownEyes #InstaMan #Lobo #wolfboy #GayWolf #Gay #pride #bearchaser (en León, Guanajuato, México) https://www.instagram.com/p/CU1SOtpgV3P/?utm_medium=tumblr

[stockyfotos]

a refreshing dip at IBC 2018! small preview of all our photos we took during the weekend - enjoy and stay tuned while we finish up with the rest!! . . #ibc2018 #internationalbearconvergence #palmsprings #hardrockpalmsprings #bearevent #bearrun #bearcommunity #bearpride #gaybear #bearchaser #stockyfotos #scruffapp #scruff #poolparty #gaybears #bearsoup #chubbyguys #chub #bearchub #ibcps #ibcpoolparty #poolparty

[magorozombi]

[joaogalrao]

The hairs 😜 Morning first cigarette 3 2019. Pen drawing on paper. A3 Size. Available #joaogalrao #art #drawing #dailyart #gayart #contemporaryart #artoftoday #instagay #bearchaser #artistofinstagram (at Sintra, Portugal) https://www.instagram.com/p/B21zBNlpMo4/?igshid=foaq4pshtp0l

[rippleclan]

[Image ID: Eelgrowl, a gray tom with brown eyes, burnt paws, smoke patterns, and a darker tail.]

So, I know Eelgrowl didn't win the last vote... but I made an executive decision and wanted to write about him. Meet Eelgrowl... the tom who killed Paleshade.

Eelgrowl: 79 (as of Moon 14), male, deputy, grumpy, talented fire-starter, natural intuition

Eelgrowl started out as a giddy little firebug. He hung around the oven and smokers, fascinated by fire. He tried to start his own fire as a kit, but burnt his paws. This taught him the dangers of fire and encouraged him to master the dangerous element for the service of his Clan. As such, he trained as a caretaker and learned as much as he could about managing flame.

While AshClan's founding story taught him to be hesitant about the strength and intentions of those outside of his Clan, he's actually well-liked within AshClan itself. While he grew into a grumpy caretaker, he mentored three caretakers and helped artisans harness fire for all their needs, earning him favor. His fierce loyalty to AshClan could make him a good friend to many. He and Puddlespeckle got on well in the past. Puddlespeckle votched for Eelgrowl when Autumnstar had to choose a new deputy a year and a half ago. Autumnstar saw him as a positive influence on the Clan that could help root out the Ripple ideology sweeping through the Clans.

When the Ashes in the Water made their stand against the rest of the Clan, Eelgrowl took to Autumnstar's side to attack his former friends. Now unlike some other members like Autumnstar or the vicious codekeeper Bearchaser, Eelgrowl wasn't trying to kill his old Clanmates like rogues. He saw them as no longer Clan cats after their treasonous request, but saw a potential for redemption if they weren't killed. This was especially true for Paleshade, whom Eelgrowl respected as a skilled orator and codekeeper. He brutally injured her, yes, but not enough to kill her.

Paleshade and Weedfoot were declared prisoners following the attack. Eelgrowl petitioned Autumnstar to treat their wounds and attempt to reform them, but Autumnstar would not waste medicine on traitors. Eelgrowl felt duty bound to obey his leader and watched as Paleshade slowly died of her wounds. Part of him truly regretted that he let Paleshade suffer like that, but he would stand by the decisions of his leader and say nothing. He was equal parts furious and grateful when WheatClan busted Weedfoot out. Weedfoot was a reminder of both his mistakes and the tragedy that had unfolded, and Eelgrowl wanted to be done with her. But she's not done with him...

[exhumedvisions]

Finished screen printing 300 front/back 7.25” record sleeves for my friends in BEARCHASER. This was my first time printing on paper and it went way better than expected, even though I almost punched my way through a few screens. #screenprinting #bearchaser https://www.instagram.com/p/B-dZ4_3FLYs/?igshid=1b2e1kau9jft0