#beetlefoot

[spooky-paws-designs]

Beetlefoot (oc)

[need1etail]

Sweetfish or BeetleFoot if you’d like :]

Sorry this took a sec 😭 I did Beetlefoot, the design came out kind of basic but I like them! Kiind of tried to make their stripes look like beetle wings but i mostly focused on the black feet. Whenever I hear "Beetle" I think stocky, rude kind of cats so. There they are lol I like them

[redux-iterum]

Say I know a friend in Thunderclan named Beetlefoot. And Beetlefoot was the only cat to hear the leader Palestar’s dying wish to change the deputy to Leopardface but Beetlefoot hates her so he told everyone that Palestar chose him to be deputy instead. Now Beetlefoot had to lie to everyone that he got approval from starclan. And also, the seer Littlenose was suspecting him so Littlenose tripped and fell and died of death berry poisoning.

Hypothetically, just how much trouble would Beetlefoot be in? time sensitive question -not Beetlefoot

[cagedcats]

Having Iterum ocs

Iterum OCs who are not getting into StarClan at that

Also I want to draw Beetlefoot sometime so if you want you can always send me a ask or something about him :0 or even the other cast (Palestar, Leopardface, Littlenose).

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Four: Chapter Four

(AO3 counterpart here.)

It was a lucky thing the Runagate was used to running all over the Territory in a single day. The wind was astir, and cats were on the move.

It was starting in the north – groups of well-muscled cats were spreading out from the leaders’ home and small, fleet messengers and scouts raced ahead of them, darting around like dragonflies over a pond, skidding to a halt in front of traveling cats or nesting families and informing them with wide, intense eyes about this dangerous group of rebels that no one could find or predict.

A fine way to spread panic, the Runagate thought, then, more cynically, not that it will help.

Indeed, a lifetime of easy hunting and dozing days had lulled most of these cats into hardly having the energy to look doubtfully at each other before politely thanking the reporter for the news and sending them away so naptime could resume. The Fleet were taking their jobs seriously; the “civilians”, as they always referred to the rest of the Clan, were not.

Still, the Runagate knew this calm before the storm. Certainly not on this scale, but they’d seen it before. Now was not the time to sit around, confident that things would be fine.

Not that it ever was.

The brothers would have to go without seeing their mother. Four patrollers had been stationed around her, and all of them looked ready for a fight. Even that big white fellow would struggle against them, and the rest of his friends weren’t exactly soldiers (though perhaps Redheart could take a swing or two). The resting ground for the Vultures and this Nettlecloud were out of the way anyway, but the Runagate had a feeling that wouldn’t have been an issue for the dying molly’s sons.

The thing they would consider an issue was the search party still following them. They were marching at a steady pace, one that cats of the Fleet would be able to keep up even over a week. It was, after all, their duty to travel.

The Runagate checked in on them much more regularly than they had ever done for anyone else. Redheart’s eagerness had rubbed off on them, and now they didn’t just want to run away or warn. They wanted to be active. They wanted to contribute and really observe the world around them. They were awake.

It was a rather nice feeling, really.

And so they watched, and followed, and popped back in to the renegades on the evening after their talk with Redheart. Everyone was awake this time. They really had no choice but to make themselves seen.

The dark grey one noticed them first. Her ear twitched at the whispers of the Runagate’s movement through the grass. When she looked around, she said aloud, “Is someone here?”

The rest of the group raised their heads as well, now alert. All of them stood up, even the blind one, who hardly seemed bothered on a bad day. Redheart and Greyleaf sniffed the air and perked up.

“It’s alright,” Redheart said to the others. “This is a friend.” She could not see the shade, but she seemed to know where they were anyway, looking in their direction. “Come on out. You’re safe here.”

A moment’s hesitation, developed from generations of frightening others with their appearance… and then, for once, finally, the Runagate stepped into the open.

Their reception was not unanimous – the dark grey one, the white fellow and his little brown friend all bristled and made various noises of alarm. Redheart, Greyleaf and the brother were hardly ruffled, just nodded a greeting. The blind molly sniffed the air and her ears slid back, tail slowly winding back and forth like a snake as her eyes narrowed in concentration.

The apprentice was the interesting one. She gasped and almost leaned back where she stood, eyes wide in shock. “It’s you!”

Your mind is awakened, I sense. The Runagate lowered their head a little in a half-nod. Perhaps I’ve hurt you that way. I’m sorry.

“I’m not hearing anything,” the blind one said slowly, “but I am hearing something all the same. Is this…?”

“The Runagate.” Greyleaf swept out with a paw in a slightly sardonic gesture of beholding. “Meet the catalyst for all of this, everyone.”

The white and dark grey cats relaxed a little, though their eyes were wary. The brown one’s back hair still bristled and his mouth was shut tight.

“S’alright, Beetlefoot,” the brother said patiently. “We got us an ally here.”

“We do.” Redheart looked to the Runagate, standing tall, all business again. “You’ve got news, I assume?”

Indeed. The Runagate took a moment to feel half a flicker of amusement at the slight shivers of the white cat as they spoke, then continued. It would seem the entirety of the Fleet is after you. News is spreading south that you’re all wanted. If you’re to head north, it'd be wise to go as quickly as possible. Perhaps not through the valley, though. They turned their gaze to the brothers. And I could not get close to your mother to see exactly how she’s doing. There’s a patrol there who I would say are looking to arrest you if you go near her.

The brother and Greyleaf sighed in unison, a shaky, unhappy pair of sighs. The wary and hostile cats simmered down into sympathy and shared worried expressions with each other.

I assume you know there’s a patrol after you, the Runagate continued, and went on after a round of nods. They’re moving a little faster than you all are. You’re hidden in the grass, but your scent is fresh, and they’re closing in. I would pick up the pace. Or perhaps go somewhere they cannot follow.

A moment of silence before the apprentice turned her head to gaze at the mountain they had been trekking towards. “Is there any way we can lose them up there? It’s steeper than the hills, it looks like…”

“The mountain?” the blind one asked.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, that’s perfect.” She smiled and lifted her tail high. “It’s steep and it’s full of tunnels. Very easy to traverse if you know your pathway.”

“Which none of us do,” the brother said.

“I do, my boy,” the blind one said with a bit of a teasingly condescending tone. “I’ve been all over that half of the mountain. I can get us through that part easy.” She paused, then hummed. “The problem would be when we hit the Brae’s forest. They won’t take a shining to us intruding on their land.”

“I can guide us then,” the brown one said suddenly.

Everyone looked at him with great surprise. His eyes were now on the ground, but he still stood stiff and tall (about as tall as he could get, at least).

“That’ll be useful,” the blind molly remarked after the silence had gone on long enough. “Then we have our path set.”

“Once we’re on the mountain, we’ll be able to see the cats after us better, I think.” The white one now looked nervously to the Runagate. “How… how close are they now?”

They’d catch you within half a day, were you to stay still.

“Then we better not waste time.” Redheart’s eyes went round to each cat. “Are you all willing to walk a little more into the night? The sooner we reach the mountain, the sooner we can stop for longer, if we are indeed hidden.”

“We will be.” The blind cat nodded. “I can promise you that.”

“I say we move, then.” The brother looked to Greyleaf, then to the others, who all voiced their agreement. To Redheart, he said, “Best go now.”

“Right.” Redheart turned her tired-but-awake eyes to the Runagate. “You’re free to do as you like, but we’d appreciate if you could keep an eye on those chasing us. Or if you see anything we should know about.”

Happy to help. The Runagate bowed their head – then, just to be a little cheeky, they took a step back and vanished into the dark, allowing themselves a little smile when the grey molly swore in shock.

 ---

 No time was wasted. The second the Runagate was gone, Redheart and Darkpelt took the lead, keeping the group going at a brisk trot even into the night. The grass shrank and softened under their feet, then gradually vanished as the ground steeped upwards so suddenly that one could trip and fall if they weren't paying attention. The soil reddened and turned airy, until dust kicked up with even the most gentle of steps.

“No wonder the Versant cats all smell like dust,” Flyfang grumbled, nose wrinkled as she failed to fight off a sneeze.

“Is it as bad as smelling like mud and fish?” Darkpelt asked cheerily, head almost upside down over her back. “We all gotta smell like where we live, you know.”

“Keep your voices down,” Beetlefoot hissed. “Someone might be around.”

“Not at this time of night.” Darkpelt waved her tail, dismissing his worries. “Versant just relaxes at home when it gets dark. And there should be some hollows close ahead we can stop in for the night.”

Beetlefoot didn’t respond, but Flyfang could see he wasn’t satisfied with that. She tapped his side with her tail, not sure if she was jokingly prodding him or trying to reassure him that it was fine. Either way, he stiffened in his paces, so she withdrew and kept trotting alongside Littlepaw.

“How are you doing?” she asked her apprentice (her apprentice!) in an undertone.

“Tired,” Littlepaw whispered back. “But I can keep going, I promise.”

“Good thing we don’t have far to go.” Flyfang eyed Darkpelt’s strutting form, which almost blended into the shadows. “At least, she thinks so.”

Darkpelt made a sound that was vaguely amused. “I know so, my friend. Here, actually- the ground just hardened. We’re a hop away.”

“Um…” Laurelclaw craned his neck forward, peering at the bumpy red dust and rocks they were scaling, pine trees jutting up in their way. “I know it’s dark, but I don’t see anything like a den up ahead.”

“That’s the point!” Darkpelt hopped up onto a cropped-out stone without slowing down. “Everyone follow me.”

One by one, the cats jumped after her, going in a single-file line. Being cats, they had fine balance, but those that had lived in the flatlands, such as the brothers and Flyfang herself, couldn’t escape wobbling a bit on the narrowing paths that were littered with oversized pebbles. Flyfang hardly had a chance to complain before Darkpelt turned left immediately after a pine tree and vanished. Redheart, immediately after her, disappeared as well with a noise of surprise – then Greyleaf, then Mistface, then Littlepaw, and then Flyfang, with Laurelclaw and Beetlefoot behind her.

Behind the pine was a hollowed out den that seemed to stretch on forever into the earth. The ceiling and walls were crossed unevenly with zig-zagging tree roots holding the soil in place. It was cool and dry, and when Flyfang looked back outside, she had a perfect view of the valley they had just left. It was too far away to see whoever was following them, but then again, those cats couldn’t see the den either, so perhaps it didn't matter.

“Wow…” Laurelclaw had to crouch a little and duck his head to fit through the entrance, but he was able to straighten up as the den widened out. “This is perfect. Why isn’t anyone here?”

“There’re dens and tunnels all over here,” Darkpelt said. “Enough to house half the Clan. It’s called ‘the Rootlands’ by natives. The pines made the ground stable enough to be dug up wherever one pleases.”

Mistface tilted his head. “You travel here a lot to know all this?”

“I was born here, actually.” Darkpelt gave a self-satisfied nod. “Let me tell you what, nothing gets you prepped for walking blind like living on a slope like this.”

“That explains a lot about you,” Beetlefoot muttered.

Darkpelt laughed and gestured with her paw in a sweeping motion. “Settle down, everyone. We’ll have to go without hunting for tonight – there’s nothing around here.”

“That sucks.” Greyleaf stretched one side of his mouth back in a half-grimace. “Well, I can wait.”

“I can too.” Flyfang pawed at a spot ahead of her and sat down on it, a little put off by how stiff the ground was. “We’ll hunt as soon as we can.”

Various murmurs of unhappy resignation echoed in the den. Everyone gradually found a place to rest, settled down and fell into silence. Littlepaw rested against Flyfang, paws tucked tightly under her body and eyes unfocused.

Flyfang gently nosed her shoulder. “What’s on your mind, kiddo?”

Littlepaw didn’t answer at first. When she did, her voice was so quiet the den didn’t carry it around the walls. “Just thinking about…” She shuffled. “Everything. All these lies we get told.” She frowned. “Or maybe they weren’t lies. But I don’t know, and it bothers me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, StarClan’s a lie, and we all believed it, right?” Littlepaw looked up at her mentor, eyes glimmering with distress. “But then the Runagate’s real, but they’re good. And I got thinking while we walked – if the aspects were real, wouldn’t they have stopped this monster for us? Aileron’s whole thing is fighting off evil beings. Why couldn’t she do anything?”

No one spoke, but Flyfang could see they were all listening.

“And the rest of the stories!” Littlepaw’s curly-furred tail puffed out. “All these spirits and ghosts and beasts, I don’t even know if they’re real. Does anyone? Were they ever real? Were they just fables to scare kits? Are any of the predators the patrollers talk about… do they even exist? What’s real and what isn’t? How can we tell?”

Silence. Littlepaw stared into Flyfang’s eyes desperately, like she had the answers. She took in a soft breath and let it out slowly.

“Well,” she said quietly, “I suppose the only way we’re going to find out is when we take out the biggest factor in the equation. Whatever it’s created, maybe that’ll go away with it.”

“We can’t assume much on the part of the aspects, anyway,” Redheart said, voice between firm and soothing. “It’s possible that StarClan is too strong even for them.”

“And if they’re just a story too?” Littlepaw’s voice hitched and she looked at the deputy now, ears pinned back.

“We’ll cross that trail when we get to it.” Redheart’s usually weary and hard face was soft and a little melancholy. “Right now, I wouldn’t worry about it. We have much bigger prey to catch. Whatever comes next will come next.”

“Can’t promise nothin’,” Mistface said on the tail-end of a yawn. “But if it helps, lil’un, I’d like to think them bein’ part of our tales and communities makes them real enough. They’ve been inspirin’ and entertainin’ all this time, drivin’ cats to be better or happier with the world around them. Ain’t that more important than if they’re actually causin’ the rain and snow?”

There was no answer again, but the air in the den warmed and relaxed. Laurelclaw sighed like he had been holding his breath. Greyleaf nodded approvingly to his brother. Flyfang felt Littlepaw lose the tension in her body, and her tail-fur smoothed out again.

“That does help,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

Mistface’s lazy smile on his face seemed more genuine than it usually was. “Our deputy here’s right, anyway. No purpose in worryin’ now. Let’s focus on what we got right in front of us.” His eyes slid over to Greyleaf. “Not that it’s much more soothin’ of a topic.”

Greyleaf huffed a chuckle. “It’ll just be a bad dream soon enough.”

Flyfang looked down at Littlepaw as she shifted to lean against her mentor, eyes shutting. Flyfang helped her along with a purr, and soon Littlepaw’s breaths slowed. Everyone else fell asleep soon after her, but Flyfang was awake for just a bit longer. She studied their faces, how some twitched their lips or ears, how Greyleaf and Redheart’s expressions were tight and troubled. Were they seeing it still?

Flyfang gradually lowered her chin onto her paws, staring ahead at nothing. She didn’t want to admit that Littlepaw’s worries were gently digging their dirty little talons into the back of her head as well.

It was a good question she asked: If StarClan wasn’t real… was anything?

[haylie1214]

“You’ve been out all night. I don’t know where you’ve been.”

Beetlepaw tries to confront his mentor about where she has been the past couple of nights. She reveals she’s pregnant, and she makes him swear to not tell anyone. She disappears a couple of days later, after his warrior ceremony.

[thesedamnfightingcats]

[mephitidae]

I had these Hawkfrost but I forgot to post them jakdjd I'm sorry (?

Anyway more Hawkfrost for your soul, I think I have done 36 so far (?

Credits!

@bug-meats @angrysnakes @beetlefoot @moonka-designs @warriorsproject @mothpawbs

[themissinglynx]

The Three, but resembling the three gods of Redux clan mythology: Horoa, Suriin, and Rokar.

Thanks to @warriorsredux​ for talking this out with me about how this idea would work. Most of these concepts are their words with some of mine sprinkled in.

Lionclaw is all about justice, strength, and loyalty. He’s rather hot-blooded and not the sharpest thorn in the bush. By far, he is Thunderclan’s best fighter and deters most enemies out of a fight with him... except Beetlefoot. They often throw insults at one another across the border and occasionally get into a brawl if Beetle insults Lion’s mom. He’s fairly charismatic and friendly, even making cats in other clans let their guard down, especially those within his generation.

Rookheart has a strong distrust of strangers, is very smart, but isn’t as dedicated to the code as she was in the books. She has that signature cattish pride and may the gods help you if you get on her bad side. She has Rook- as her prefix because someone needed to have at least one kid named after a corvid. She immediately saw through Sol’s deception and could hold her own against his wits, even as an older apprentice. Because she didn’t deserve to die, she would eventually become leader after her foster-father’s death, becoming Rookstar.

Lightningpool has the most unsettling aura out of the three, almost awe-inspiring. Cats often don’t look directly at him when speaking to him. He’s quiet, aloof, serious, and reserved. He doesn’t threaten or insult or bully, just angles his head in another cat’s general direction or informs that it would be in one’s best interest to speak the truth and proceed on what he was doing. He has the amber gene, so when he was born, he was named Stormkit or Juniperkit (can’t remember) and as he aged, his fur turned more gold until his seer ceremony, where he was almost completely gold. He requested to have his prefix changed to a gold name because cats were already getting confused and weirded out so he wanted it simplified. The -pool suffix refers to his uncanny ability to clearly understand Starclan’s words, making him the first owner of the suffix in the Lake Territories.

Here’s a bonus doodle I did of Lightningpool still gray!

[thunderc1an]

Rabbitleap’s adoptive family!

Left to Right: Rabbitleap, Beetlefoot, Sunstar, and Palewind

Honeynose gave up his daughter to be in the care of his brother (Sunstar) and his brother’s mate. Rabbitleap grew up not knowing that Sunstar and Palewind weren’t her biological parents, and Beetlefoot as well grew up thinking that Rabbitleap was his biological sister

[whitelupin]

Writing Without Villains

Alright so I want to talk a little bit about the main conflicts in the first arc of New Legacy without giving too much away, so I figured the best way to do that would be to explain what I do in general with conflicts in my writing.

Sure, there are cats that one could argue are villains in New Legacy. There's Beetlefoot, who leads a coup in ShadowClan. But most cats in ShadowClan, with the exception of a couple cats that she specifically calls out, like her. There's disdain for Pebblestar and Fangpaw, who very tightly control the Clan. As deputy, doesn't Beetlefoot deserve to be leader?

There's Owltalon, who voices his opinions against Frostpelt. Frostpelt is no good guy, either. He goes against the warrior code at every step. With Ravenstsr sinking deeper and deeper into the sickness, shouldn't a cat that has only ThunderClan in mind be the next leader?

And there's Sootwhisker, who speaks out against Honeypaw and the leniency that she receives. He argues that she should be punished for using her powers to manipulate people, but he's ultimately labeled a bad guy.

All of these cats aren't really villains. They have their own opinions, and they're not outright evil like cats in the Canon series (Tigerstar and Darktail, looking at you). They have proper motivations, and if we weren't looking at the story from our protagonists' perspective, they might be the good guys. Beetlefoot overthrows a controlling regime. Owltalon is only looking out for his sister and her kits, who he worries might be thrown into battle too soon by Frostpelt, like his older brother was. Sootwhisker fairly calls out very poor power structure in RiverClan, that he, even though he's not a senior warrior, thinks he knows how to fix.

It's important to give characters depth like this. No villain is without motivation, and they always think they're the good guys. This is why Leopardstar is such a compelling character in the original books - she's manipulated by Tigerstar, but really thinks she's doing the best for her Clan. And it's why Tigerstar always falls a little flat for me. I genuinely can't see his side of things, no matter how hard I try, and with Fireheart as our only PoV character, we never get a chance to see why Tigerstar might do what he's doing. It's the same with Brokenstar. Why's he like this? Even Yellowfang's Secret doesn't really explain.

Anyway yeah. Big rant. Give villains depth.

[johnathan-armanithan]

Beetlefoot is a disgrace of a leader by ANY standard. She is the Joe Biden of Mayors.

[creampuffqueen]

haven't been posting much bc the last chapters have all been basically crookedjaw's daily routine:

wake up

get manipulated by mapleshade

go patrolling/hunting

get beaten up by thunderclan

be cute with willowbreeze

argue with beetlefoot

go to sleep

get manipulated by mapleshade

but he's deputy now which is pretty lit! tho i think mapleshade made that omen but whatever

[redux-iterum]

Dandelionthroat: hey who’s that lion behind you?

Beetlefoot:

Would it be better to just not turn around to see your impending doom or to face it head on? That's the real question.

[silentshadowbl0g]

Is their dad beetlefoot??

no no no!

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Four: Chapter One

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Mistface had never been so eager to do anything in his life as he was now. By the look of it, the same could be said for everyone else.

Even Beetlefoot was relatively cheery. He had been the first to suggest the route the group would take: to avoid potential arresters, they would travel east towards the marshlands and make a wide berth around the valley, climbing along the mountainside and emerging north on the land by the path the Plage took in their travels to the coast. The idea was warmly received, brightening Beetlefoot’s dour face up and, if Mistface wasn’t mistaken, adding a bit of a strut to his usual choppy trot.

Greyleaf and Flyfang were at the lead – they knew this section of the Territory the best (Mistface declining any authority) and, working together, could navigate the streams and patches of land in the south quickly enough that the party could get a sizable lead before anyone would find out where they were going.

“I’m surprised we lived so close to each other and never met,” Mistface remarked, several paces behind the two.

“Well, you know how reclusive the Marish are,” Flyfang said over her shoulder. “It would've been a miracle if you even caught a glance of me from a distance.”

“Then there’s more land back there than I thought.” Mistface’s front foot kicked aimlessly at an acorn shell. “We heard tell there was a lake no one would pass around.”

“There is,” Flyfang said. “It’s just further south. And no, none of us have gone past it. I don’t think there’s much there to explore, honestly. Just a long stretch of flat grassland-“ She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Well, you can see a mountain range in the distance, but it’s so far off, why bother?”

“S’pose that’s fair,” Mistface replied. He kept his second thought to himself: if this quest failed, the Clan may need to discover what that mountain range was like.

Chatter fluttered back and forth around the party, mostly anecdotes about the marshes and how life was living in the south part of the Territory. Mistface hardly paid any attention to it; he just padded along, grateful for the sunlight when they stepped out of the border of the oak forest and into grassland again.

“Hang on.” Darkpelt suddenly stopped. “Everyone, noses in the air.”

The rest of the cats looked at each other, puzzled, but did as she said.

“I don’t smell anything,” Laurelclaw said.

“Then look around.” Darkpelt’s ears slid back. “I don’t think we’re alone anymore.”

“I'll check,” Littlepaw said, and hurried off around a bend of oaks before anyone could say otherwise. She was back in a few moments, tail bushy in alarm.

“There’s a group of cats entering the forest,” she hissed. “I just barely saw them go through the trees. They’re all big.”

“Then we need to move,” Redheart said. “Flyfang, can we head south more? Will the marsh hide us?”

Flyfang looked at Greyleaf like he had an answer. “I mean- yeah, the grass is tall, and the smell’s thick, but… that’s Marish land.”

“Would there be anyone out hunting around this time?” Redheart persisted. “Do we have a chance of getting through unseen?”

Flyfang squinted in thought, then turned to Redheart. “The part we’d go through is usually poor pickings in the morning. But we have to be quick.”

“Let’s not waste time, then.” Redheart gave everyone a curt nod and started off at a loping jog, Flyfang and Greyleaf at her side. The party went after them at just slow enough of a pace that Darkpelt could keep up with no guidance, but fast enough to outrun the trackers.

The grass met them quickly, swallowing them all in narrow green walls. They went single file now, Mistface at the rear behind Darkpelt. He glanced back at the forest, half-expecting their scents to be caught instantly and for the Fleet cats to be upon them.

“I’ll tell you what,” Darkpelt said, “it’d be nice if one of you southern belles would show me how to walk without getting hit in the face by these stalks.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to do,” Mistface said. “You just get used to it.”

Darkpelt harrumphed, but kept trotting.

The grass darkened and turned coarse in a minute or two, and the wind grew stronger the farther they went south. Eventually, Mistface’s head broke free through the surface of the grass and he could see the troop up ahead of him – just in time, because he almost walked off of a small ledge and fell into water. He jumped before he could, and landed on a patch of ground. Darkpelt, by the looks of it, had almost fallen in herself, and, unusually, her tail was twitching. Perhaps the grass had gotten to her.

“Let’s be quick,” Flyfang said, leaping past another stream. “The scent here can protect us, but the Marish-“

“Um…” Laurelclaw raised a white paw. “Flyfang? Over there.”

Everyone stopped and looked to the right, where Laurelclaw was pointing his paw now. As if to spite them, there was a patrol of cats heading their way. At the front was a grey-brown-and-white older molly, eyes narrowed and face set in a scowl. Behind her were other bristling patched cats, and two dark-colored apprentices. Mistface glanced at Flyfang and blinked; she was frozen where she stood.

“Flyfang!” cried one of the apprentices, a spitting image of the dark grey warrior. She ran forward, followed by the black one, but the head of the patrol almost flung her away with a back foot.

“Your nerve is impressive,” she said in a voice like she was trying to be stoic and was having a hard time of it. “Especially bringing strangers.”

The renegades bunched together without a word. Laurelclaw stood beside Flyfang, almost as stiff as she was.

“You’re okay!” the black apprentice exclaimed, delight in her voice. “They said you were going to die!”

She might just, soon enough, thought Mistface, but he said nothing. He could gather that these were Flyfang’s sisters, which meant it wasn’t his time to talk.

Flyfang swallowed hard and took an unsteady step forward. “Hi, girls.”

Again, the apprentices tried to push past the adults, but were forced back. The four other cats spread out a little in a wall to block them, tails lashing.

“Risking our safety for nothing,” the molly growled. “We searched for you when you ran away, and we gave you up for dead.”

“And you might as well be,” a ginger-patched tom said angrily. “How dare you come back! With outsiders, no less!”

This woke Flyfang up. She bristled and sank her claws into the soft ground. “Let me see them, Minnownose.”

The molly narrowed her eyes and took a step closer, voice steely. “You lost all rights to visiting when you betrayed us. Get out.”

“I’m planning to,” Flyfang snapped. “But I’m not going without talking to my sisters. I might not get the chance again.”

“You certainly won’t.” Minnownose stood straight and glared down her nose at Flyfang. “We know you’re coming back for them soon, and we’ll be very prepared to make you regret that decision. You don’t have any control over them, remember-“

Laurelclaw suddenly strode forward and shouldered Minnownose so hard that she stumbled sideways and fell with a grunt of shock. The ginger-patched tom growled and started to approach his deputy, but Laurelclaw turned his head and glared down at him with a fierceness Mistface had not seen before. The tom flinched away, and the other family members stepped back.

That made things very clear for the Marish – they all fell silent and cowed, the apprentices’ way open. Laurelclaw looked at Flyfang and jerked his head in the direction of her sisters. As stunned as the rest of the renegades, Flyfang hesitated on her first few steps, giving Laurelclaw a look of awe. By the shine in her sisters’ eyes as they went to meet her, they were equally impressed.

“Gnatpaw and Mosquitopaw,” Flyfang murmured, pressing her muzzle to one head, and then the other. “You’re getting big already. You were supposed to wait, you brats.”

The dark grey one (likely Gnatpaw) rubbed her head on Flyfang’s shoulder. “We tried to, I swear.”

“You got us the best mentors,” the black one said, almost pushing Flyfang by rubbing against her. “They’re nice to us. Minnownose isn’t, though.”

“If I make it back,” Flyfang said, “I’ll rectify that.”

Gnatpaw tilted her head. “Where are you going? Aren’t you here for us?”

“Don’t leave again!” Mosquitopaw almost wailed. “You just came home!”

Flyfang looked back at her friends. Mistface’s eyes drifted downwards, unwilling to tell the twins anything.

“I can’t explain to you what I’m doing right now,” she said softly to her sisters. “It's just too dangerous to bring you with me today. But I’m going to do everything in my power to come get you. I promise."

The apprentices looked at each other despairingly.

“Minnownose isn’t going to stop me.” Flyfang coldly glared at the older molly, who had gotten up and backed away from Laurelclaw. “Nothing is, if I can help it. Right now, though… I’m doing something very important.”

“Life-changing, really,” Darkpelt said. “You’ll know if we succeeded.”

Gnatpaw seemed to finally notice the rest of the travelers. She squinted at them suspiciously. “You’re taking another apprentice, wherever you’re going.”

Littlepaw waved her tail nervously. “I’m… I’m your sister’s apprentice, actually.”

Mosquitopaw gasped and looked at her sister with (hopefully fake) outrage. “You better not have replaced us!”

“No one’s replacing you.” Flyfang gently touched her nose to Mosquitopaw’s head. “If I make it through this, you’ll be out of here in no time. I promise.”

“Make it through what?” Minnownose asked testily.

Flyfang didn’t acknowledge her. She just touched her nose to Gnatpaw’s head now. “You’ll understand in time. I’ll tell you all about it when I come back for you.”

Mistface caught Redheart’s eye and the two shared a knowing, glum look. They didn’t know or like the chances of returning for these two.

The apprentices were still unhappy, but they seemed to understand. Both of them leaned forward to bump their heads against their sister's shoulders. Flyfang’s chin lowered right between their ears and she sighed.

“I love you two,” she murmured. “Be the worst Marish you can be.”

“We will,” Mosquitopaw said.

“Even worse than you,” Gnatpaw added.

Flyfang lingered for a moment, then slowly stepped back. Her jaw was set as she turned around and trudged back to the rest of her crew, tail low. Laurelclaw nodded to the apprentices and followed her.

“Let’s move,” Redheart said quietly.

Flyfang said nothing, just returned to the front of the group with Greyleaf and led them away from the Marish patrol, who all watched them go. No one in either group spoke a word.

When they were far enough that the Marish were only dots of color, Mistface looked up at Laurelclaw.

“I will be tanned,” he said. “Didn’t think you had it in you to be a brute.”

Laurelclaw glanced back, worried. “I didn’t mean to push her over that hard. I hope I didn’t scare them too badly-“

Flyfang threw her head back and laughed so loud that the cats close to her jumped. “You totally did! Don’t be sorry for it! That was awesome!”

“I cannot believe I didn’t get to witness that with my own eyes,” Darkpelt said. “All I heard was that broad start up with nonsense and then fall over. What I’d pay to see it myself!”

Laurelclaw laughed bashfully. “I mean, you should get to talk to your sisters, if we’re doing this. It’s only fair.”

“I owe you big time for that,” Flyfang said, tapping him with her tail. “And if we make it, I’m definitely getting them out of there.”

“We’ll be here to help you,” Redheart said. “I will, at least.”

A ripple of confirmations and support went through the group of eight. Flyfang looked back at them with a broad smile and glimmering eyes.

“Thanks, guys,” she said.