#boarpaw

[simbasomba]

Fires parents vs fires REAL parents

[wickedcityy]

some of my cats decided to name two of their children “boarpaw” for some inexplicable reason. they are from the same litter. why would you do this antler and heron seriously what is wrong with you

also featuring world’s cutest elder, leaffreckle

[fowlblue]

Got back into making edgy battle cat OCs so… introducing Spiresnare, the young healer of Mossclan, and his… friends from the ‘other side’. A suspicious-looking bunch, aren’t they?

(little bit more lore beneath the cut)

Spiresnare has his eyes on another cat in his clan, Rattlebone, his good friend from back in their apprentice days. However, he struggles to find a way to get his attention, as Rattle is a brooding, haunted tom who spends most of his time lost in his own thoughts. He’s a warrior well-known for sniffing out trouble, which leaves him picking up after most of the clan’s problems.

So, Spiresnare turns to his other friends- ghostly cats from the Dark Forest (cat hell), who he’s been close with his entire life (he lacks a connection with Starclan, and has no family left within his clan). They advise him to begin causing disasters within the territory, a spiraling murder mystery that Rattlebone with undoubtably have to solve, giving them the unknowing back-and-forth of a killer and detective- Spiresnare can even help him ‘solve’ the crimes!

So, heeding their words, he begins to do just that.

Other details of note:

- Spiresnare is clumsy and, on his own, incapable of defeating a properly-trained warrior- to get around this, he allows himself to be temporarily possessed by his Dark Forest mentors so they can do so through him. The added benefit of this is that he has no memory of these events, keeping him from blurting out the wrong thing at the wrong time.

- There is another cat in his wicked little found family- Sheepstar, pseudo-leader of the Dark Forest. She was the first to meet him, and the one his closest with. She is like a mother to him and fiercely protective- you’ll see her eventually >:)

- Each of his Dark Forest friends is coded after a particular entity from The Magnus Archives, and is responsible for various horrible crimes in the histories of the clans:

• Waxenbramble was a small, frail cat who decided to win a war against an opposing clan by setting their territory alight- the fire spread and many were killed. When confronted, she cursed her clan for condemning her, and leapt at her leader- she was then killed and woke up in the Dark Forest.

• Honeyheather was a healer of Mossclan from many, many moons ago- soft-furred and sweet-tongued, they were admired for their gentle soul- this compassion, however, had a dark side. When Honeyheather encountered injuries and sickness he could not heal, his patients would disappear- missing, that is, until his nearby ‘apiary’ was discovered. In the Dark Forest, they are known by some as ‘The Beekeeper’.

• Garwhisker was an older tom from a rival clan who was, unbeknownst to others, obsessed with the concept of the ‘perfect predator’, an unbeatable hunter- he observed the hunting tactics of other carnivores, experimented, changed methods and chased creatures of all kinds. But it still was not enough, and he turned his teeth and claws to his own kind to hone his skills further. There are rumors he even allied himself with creatures of other species, learning to speak their tongue as easily as his own.

• Boarpaw was a young apprentice when they died- violent and raging even as a kit, their strength grew with them, to the point they lacked the means to control it… if they ever would have to begin with. Boarpaw excelled in fighting alone, and never pulled a blow. In time, the other apprentices grew to fear their quiet, hollow-eyed peer, and refused to spar alone with them. Their mentors found themselves at a loss. A pity for them, it was, when three were set to spar against them at once and, in quick succession, Boarpaw killed them.

• Heavypebble was a quiet, mysterious, but dutiful warrior of Mossclan. However, he began having visions of holes opening beneath the ground, bones and bodies and the like, after he was forced to bury his mate when she perished from sickness. Over time, he seemed to become obsessed with the earth beneath his feet, finally snapping one day in a storm and fleeing to his mate’s grave, digging and digging desperately in an attempt to reach her- and yet, he found nothing, the hole deepening as he went. When a clanmate attempted to stop him, he dragged them in with him as the earth collapsed.

[poarkchop]

boarpaw (my comms are open!!)

[calronhunt]

sorry for another wc!cob post i'm just really thinking about it. Those ghosts that are all around the territory are like barely there. They're a shell of what they used to be. The closes thing vibe wise I'm going for are the homing boxes (i think that's what they were called) in silence in the library from dr who. Like, they're the feelings and basic subconscious of the cat, they can barely communicate. It's why the clan made the shadowhunter job, because it's considered a mercy to do this because they will never reach the sky.

also the shadowhunter job like rotates through the clan. Everyone has to do it (Except for kits apprentices and elders). It's mostly a job for younger warriors to do. and out of respect for family/mates, they aren't ever asked to shadowhunter recently deceased family members/mates unless they really want to for one reason or another.

To give some actually story shit this relates to, when Boarpaw was an apprentice his dad Cypressnose died. Apprentices don't do the shadowhunter job but he wanted to see his dad one last time so he snuck out of the camp at night to find him. He comes across the ghost of his dad who barely acknowledges that Boarpaw is there. Boarpaw keeps trying to talk to him but Cypressnose is barely there and Boarpaw runs back to camp. He tries to go back to sleep but starts crying and Olivepaw wakes up and comforts him about it. <3

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Three: Chapter Nine

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Fernstar?”

The little leader blinked hard, trying to get the blur of sleepiness out of her eyes, and looked up at Viceroyclaw.

“We ought to rest a bit,” she murmured, her wide head close to Fernstar’s to keep their conversation private. “It’s been daylight for a while now, and…”

“I know.” Fernstar sighed and looked behind her. Her collective of Fleet cats, from the powerful patrollers to the scrawny scouts, were boldly following after her, but she could see that they were just as exhausted as she was.

As clearly as her tiredness would allow, she announced, “We’ll stop for a few hours. Let’s get as much sleep as we can before we continue. The trail is still fresh.”

There was a collective sigh of relief. Fernstar stopped a few steps away, where a smooth stone allowed her to climb onto it as a perch. She nodded to everyone, and they all barely took more than a step before curling up where they were, eyes shutting at a record pace. Even Fogpetal only did a quick scan of their surroundings before lying down herself. Viceroyclaw jumped onto the stone with Fernstar, lying close enough that their fur brushed. Fernstar didn’t even acknowledge her guard – drowsiness muffled her thoughts, and she swiftly fell asleep.

When she awoke again, she felt much more alert, but she frowned. Something had scratched at the back of her mind in her sleep, just beyond her hearing, and she wasn’t sure what it was.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Boarpaw was walking past her and paused to rear up a little and meet her at eye level. “You had a bad dream or somethin’?”

Fernstar squinted, focusing, then shook her head. “It’s nothing. Where’s Viceroyclaw?”

“She went huntin’ with Glorypelt and Newtbite. Said they’d be back soon.”

“Good.” Fernstar glanced sideways. The rest of the Fleet were still asleep in the midday sun, which she could see was slowly drying the dew and mud. The warmth sank through her fur and eradicated the last of her shivers. She stretched and yawned. “If you’re tired, you can keep sleeping.”

“Oh, no, ma’am, I’m fine,” Boarpaw said quickly, standing tall. “I was keepin’ watch, ‘case someone came up on us.”

Fernstar gave him a patiently amused smile. “We’re the ones ‘coming up’ on someone.”

Boarpaw looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet, voice quieter. “Well, just bein’ sure.”

“Rest a little more, Boarpaw,” Fernstar ordered in about as gentle of a voice as she could. “We’ll be fine.”

Boarpaw shuffled again, opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, then nodded sheepishly and walked away, lying down with his fellow Fleet members. Fernstar restrained a chuckle when she heard him start snoring mere moments later.

The wind picked up a little, parting Fernstar’s fur and sending ripples through the grass in the flatland they were resting in. Fernstar watched the shimmering waves, contemplating whether to sleep again herself or to wait for the hunting patrol to return.

Entirely too soon, her thoughts turned to the current mission, and that disappointed hurt clutched at her heart again. Memories of Redheart as an apprentice directing adults in hunts or solving disputes for her juniors almost made Fernstar’s smile return. When Redheart’s mother had died, she’d gone through a change in activity. Not that she hadn’t been a hard worker before, but suddenly she was foregoing sleep to handle problems and somehow transforming the rowdy Clast cats into a respectable family – or about as respectful as they could get while still getting to wrestle for fun. Fernstar hadn’t waited more than a month or two after her naming ceremony before appointing her as the new deputy, and no one had been surprised. There had, of course, been arguments that Redheart was too young, but anyone who’d known her for even a week knew that she was the best choice. Everyone expected her to become leader one day. So had Fernstar.

So what changed?

Try as she might, Fernstar couldn’t figure it out. Going from being a loyal member of the Clan, working up the ranks to eventual leadership, to recruiting cats to leave the Territory with no end goal stated… there wasn’t a connection that she could think of. Redheart had always been sensible and collected, and she had always made it known that she believed in building a better future for the next generation. Abandoning the safest place in the known world (small as the world was) with expecting queens and apprentices in tow was the complete opposite. It just didn’t make sense.

What also didn’t make sense was the sudden turning of the spies. Mistface, at least, Fernstar could understand. He and Greyleaf were in a very tightly bonded family – Mistface had only been recruited because he was the one cat Greyleaf would trust above anyone else, except perhaps their mother. But the others had no reason to ditch their post and follow Redheart wherever she had gone. Laurelclaw was a very meek, peaceful boy, and Beetlefoot was dedicated to his role as a member of the Fleet. Neither of them seemed like the types to run off.

The really odd one was Darkpelt. Fernstar was very familiar with the spy. She was crafty and practical, and took great pleasure in her work. She had been used by the leaders plenty of times, dropping by to give them reports of troublemakers or ambitious deputies to watch out for. Any cat that hired her to find out information would find their time well spent and the price of prey and herbs easy to hand over. She barely ever demanded payment anyway; she just loved being a secret pair of ears.

This sort of cat did not seem to be the sort to foolishly walk off after a wanted molly. Someone in Clast had recalled overhearing her mention that she ‘had a job to do’, but as far as Fernstar was concerned, her mission was completed. All she needed to do was give her report and then wait for the investigation to be done, potentially followed by a trial (which was now almost certain, as much as Fernstar hated to admit it). Darkpelt had never lingered on spying before. She’d release her information to the leaders and leave it at that until she was called back.

What had Redheart said or done that was so compelling that this particular spy wanted to follow her? Was there something she hadn’t told the others, or the leaders?

“Fernstar.”

Fernstar flinched out of her contemplation. Viceroyclaw had managed to get almost in her face without her noticing, front paws on the stone she rested on, a ground squirrel in her jaws.

“I brought you something,” Viceroyclaw mumbled around the prey.

“Oh-“ Fernstar sat up. “Thank you. Did you catch something for yourself?”

Viceroyclaw nodded at something on the ground. She placed the squirrel at Fernstar’s feet before ducking down and retrieving a much smaller mouse.

Fernstar managed to not snort. “I think this squirrel would be better suited for you.”

Viceroyclaw blinked, confused, before glancing down at the squirrel which was a third of Fernstar’s size and murmuring, “Ohhh…” She replaced the squirrel with the mouse and climbed onto the stone, sitting across from her leader and tucking in quietly.

The two ate for a bit, Fernstar observing the other two hunters waking up their friends with lunch. She waited until she had finished her meal and Viceroyclaw was slowing down on hers before speaking.

“I just can’t understand,” she said. “This whole situation is so bizarre.”

Viceroyclaw hummed and looked up with her eyes, an indication that she was listening as she continued chewing.

“It seems to have come out of nowhere,” Fernstar went on, half to herself. “Redheart isn’t like this. And Darkpelt and her team leaving with her…” She looked at her high deputy. “Do you have any ideas why this is happening?”

Viceroyclaw chomped once, twice, swallowed, and cleared her throat. “No. But I don’t really think it matters, the ‘why’. She and Greyleaf did what they did. They should be punished for it.”

Fernstar’s face must have fallen, because Viceroyclaw hurried to add, “Or at least handled. Whatever you and the others decide to do.”

“Right,” Fernstar muttered. She looked back at the Fleet cats, who were all chatting while they ate. They were all so tightly bonded together – some would argue for them being even closer than any of the regular families’ members. She had no doubt that if one of them were in Redheart’s position, at least a few of these cats would follow them into the night. They were loyal that way.

But as far as Fernstar knew, there was no loyalty to anyone in the runaway group except Mistface to Greyleaf, and Greyleaf to him and Redheart. The apprentice, Littlepaw, was supposedly followed by her pseudo-mentor, so there was a connection there, but they didn’t have anything to do with any part of this. What part of a former seer’s dreams encouraged her to just walk off after an almost-certain-to-be criminal? Wouldn’t StarClan have told her to stay away from Redheart, if they still spoke with her?

Would they find other cats? Would they attempt to recruit evacuees again? Who would go with them anywhere?

A light flickered in Fernstar’s head.

She could think of at least one cat. Perhaps one that they were already on the way to collecting.

“Fogpetal!” she called.

The Fleet deputy raised her head up from the remains of her vole and stood up, excusing herself from the conversation she was in. She trotted up to the rock and silently stood at attention.

“Do you know if the Vultures have moved from their position?” Fernstar asked.

Fogpetal shook her head. “They should still be there. They have kits to raise, from what I heard.”

“Good.” Fernstar was surprised by her own sigh of relief. “Then I want two of these cats to make their way over to their camp and guard Greyleaf’s mother. Her name is Nettlecloud – she’s a grey, elderly molly.”

“Oh.” Fogpetal’s eyes widened in realization. “I see. I can have them collect more guards on the way there, if you’d like.”

“That would be good,” Fernstar said. “Send whoever you think is appropriate. Whoever can at least hold back a healer and his Scattered brother.”

“That shouldn’t be hard,” Fogpetal said, joking.

Fernstar narrowed her eyes. “We may be surprised.”

Fogpetal immediately went serious again, dipped her head in respect, and returned to her party. Fernstar heard her speaking to them and giving orders. In a moment, a grey-brown tom named Thrashercloud and the tortoiseshell Newtbite set off at a loping canter, calling their 'goodbye's and 'good luck's to the others. Fernstar could respect that they didn’t waste any time.

Fogpetal looked back at Fernstar. “Shall we keep moving?”

“Yes.” Fernstar got up. “Before this trail dries up. Everyone ready?”

The Fleet cats immediately followed after their deputy, all confirming that they were good to go. Fernstar didn’t waste any time either – she jumped off of the stone, Viceroyclaw right next to her, and looked at an approaching Boarpaw.

“Can you track a scent?” she asked.

“Oh, of course!” Boarpaw brightened up, looking much more awake. “Me and my mentor, we can do it.”

“Then the two of you will run south, ahead of us, and make sure the trail doesn’t turn anywhere.”

“Right away.” Boarpaw immediately took off at a run, his pale ginger mentor jogging after him with a slightly frazzled smile to Fernstar.

“The rest of you, follow me,” she said to the patrol, and walked forward, ignoring a pang of guilt. “We have hunting to do.”

[fledermaus-art]

Branchpaw, Chirppaw (whom belongs to the lovely @pointdointy​) and Boarpaw

[emberlightstar]

Shadow Clan Affiliation List

**This will be updated frequently as things progress and are changed

These are the members of Shadow Clan at the very start of this story:

Leader (s)

Stagstar/storm 

Deputy (s)

Hollyfang 

Med Cat (s)

Stoatheart: https://emberlightstar.tumblr.com/post/638972341731328000/stoatheart-name-stoatkit-stoatpaw

Emberlight: https://emberlightstar.tumblr.com/post/638972156661891072/emberstar-name-emberkit-emberpaw

Warrior (s)

Aspenfang

Wolfstep: https://emberlightstar.tumblr.com/post/638972231948664832/wolfstep-name-wolfkit-wolfpaw-wolfstep

Timberclaw

Flamethroat

Tanglepelt

Willowtalon

Fernpelt

Nettlestorm

Owlflight

Jayspot

Pinetail: https://emberlightstar.tumblr.com/post/639043309523861504/pinetail-name-pinekit-pinepaw-pinetail

Queen (s)

Sunwhisker: https://emberlightstar.tumblr.com/post/639043246732066816/sunwhisker-name-sunkit-sunpaw-sunwhisker

Dusksong

Dewblossom

Sleekstep

Roseheart

Apprentice (s)

Honeypaw(fur)

Goldenpaw(blossom)

Boarpaw(rush)

Briarpaw(whisker)

Doepaw(heart)

Batpaw(flight)

Kit (s)

Hazelkit

Beekit

Patchkit

Thrushkit

Crowkit

Robinkit

Elder (s)

Bramblestrike

Briarwhisker

Pinefang

Stumptail

Ravenstorm

Maplestreak

[merleyfox]

This is my new OC Boarpaw! She’s a chonky shadow clan apprentice.

[canon-notcanon-warriorcats]

maggottail's rage(backstory)

Submitted by: butterscotch                                                                                   

it all started the day he was born - literally.

lilystep had been expecting kits for a long time, and being daughter of lilystar, everyone expected them to be strong and big, like their grandmother.

and partially, they were correct. boarkit and wolfkit were large and big, and most certainly strong like their grandmother, but the middle brother, maggotkit?

he was a different story.

during lilystar’s reign, strength and size meant everything. so when maggotkit, bony and weak, was born, everyone automatically shunned and ignored maggotkit. when he was an apprentice, the other apprentices jaggedpaw, thistlepaw and berrypaw taunted him and called gay and stupid, with his brothers often joining in and sometimes going as far to physically assault him.

maggotpaw, more often than not, would hang just outside of twoleg-place, leading to him befriending a kittypet named whiskey. their bond was stronger than any maggotpaw had had before, and in shadowclan, where his own mother despised his existence whiskey was the only cat he could confide in.

the day maggottail became a warrior was the day he broke. as soon as he became a warrior, alongside jaggedpaw/jaggedfang, thistlepaw/thistlechest, berrypaw/berryheart, and his brothers wolfpaw/wolfbelly and boarpaw/boarstep.

mere heartbeats after being named maggottail, he left camp to tell whiskey. the other newly made warriors became suspicious and followed maggottail. they see him talking to whiskey and being quite… well, intimate with him(nothing gross, just fluffy stuff!).

they end up pinning maggottail down and as “punishment” for being “so openly queer” they… they kill whiskey. in front of maggottail.

as they leave, maggottail is in a whirlwind of emotions as he holds whiskey’s corpse. after half a hour of holding his boyfriend’s body, he finally buries him, putting a flower - a forget-me-not - over his grave.

all of maggottail’s grief turns into rage as he stalks into shadowclan territory, finding one of his brothers, wolfbelly, drinking from a stream. as vengeance, maggottail leaps onto his brothers back, digging his claws into his shoulders as he drowns him.

he then goes on a killing spree, killing everyone who had ever hurt him(lilystep, spiderheart(his father), jaggedfang, thistlechest, berryheart and many more).

maggottail eventually limps away from a shadowclan camp that’s in ruins, a heavily wounded driftpaw glaring after him.

he limps towards the outskirts of twoleg-place, and maggottail bleeds out and dies on whiskey’s grave. as his body decomposes, forget-me-nots bloom and grow over his body and eventually the area he died in becomes a field of forget-me-nots.

~~~

okay, i don’t wanna sound rude, please do not take this the wrong way or me attacking the writer of this submission but please do not make dark forest cats, blatantly evil cats, have their evil backstory be “because they lashed out from being bullied”, especially for being lgbt+

this gives off the notion that he literally went to the dark forest because he got revenge for being bullied and abused for being “weak” and gay and his lover being killed

and obviously the murdering part was not right, but him being bullied for him being gay and weak being the reason why he murdered, and so HE was the one to be sent to the dark forest is very uncomfortable

it’s very very victim blame-y, and makes it feel like he was sent to hell for being gay and bullied

it is okay to make villains or dark forest cats gay, if the reason why they are evil has nothing to do with their gayness

[courtjester]

Relationships

(will get updated)

crossed out = deceased

cursive = left clan/non-clan cat

? + ? = Snowstar, Wolfnose

Wolfnose + Tidepelt = Littleheart, Gullpaw, Bearkit

Wolfnose + Dawnsong = Shinekit, Sorrelkit

Briarshadow + ? = Smallblaze (first litter), Stumpyfeather, Kestrelpaw (second litter)

? + ? = Vixenrush, Graydawn

Vixenrush + Cinderspark = Chickadeekit (own), Dandelionkit, Parsleykit, Magpiekit, Dustkit, Hemlockkit (adopted)

? + ? = Violetfrost, Plumtuft

Blackfire + Violetfrost = Nightpaw, Hailpaw

Cinnamonfang + ? = Juipertuft, Rowanmask, Honeytuft

Junipertuft + Smallblaze = Curlpaw (adopted), Rookpaw, Cherrypaw, Bumblepaw (own)

Oakcrest + Squallclaw = Rampaw, Owlpaw, Boarpaw

? + ? = Peanutbelly (first litter), Ebonypaw (second litter)

? + ? = Flameripple, Burncloud

Snowstar + ? = Maplestorm, Cloudsong

Shadesong + Foxblaze = Antpaw

Orchidstar + Moonwhisker = Mudtail, Frostleap

Frostleap + Bearclaw = Dewkit, Firkit

Doebelly + Maplestorm (CoastClan) = Kelppaw, Twilightpaw

Skunknose + Smokeflurry = Penguinkit, Orcakit, Sharkkit, Whalekit

Daisystar + Smokeface = Cloudface, Palekit

Daisystar + ? = Smokepaw

Junipertail + Magpiefur

Suneye + Squirrelheart

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Three: Chapter Seven

(AO3 counterpart here.)

As the clouds moved south, slowly losing their grip on the sky, gradually growing holes exposed the stars and moon. Those reflected in the puddles scattered amidst the grass and occasional patch of flat stone that nature had not yet taken over. It was quiet now, save for the rustle of plant life and the occasional soft drip of a paw leaving water and droplets returning to their pools as the paw lifted up and out.

The petite ginger leader of the Clast, Fernstar, squinted into the dark. Her eyes were fine, but she had the sensation of something dangerous approaching her and her crew as they walked for the Clast settlement. It irked her that she didn’t see anything, but couldn’t shake the feeling off.

“I don’t like it.” The bulky calico, Viceroyclaw, was the one to break the silence. Fernstar’s high deputy was muted, but everyone looked at her all the same. “Something’s wrong.”

“Given that screamin’ we heard…” A dark, grey-brown apprentice just behind her drew in a breath, and his drawl had a lagging anxiety in it. “Ma’am, shouldn’t I go up ahead, see what’s goin’ on?”

The scout-in-training had asked that three times now, and Fernstar returned with her third answer. “I don’t want anyone getting caught in something before we get there.”

They had been a very long ways away from the settlement – just far enough to barely see several mounds of stone – when, through the storm, had come the sounds of battle. Yowls and screeches, riddled with raindrops, shook the entire party, and the patrollers had wanted to run to investigate. Fernstar had stopped them, because fighting of that scale was extremely rare in the Territory and she was not eager to get anyone hurt for an unknown reason. Before long, the noise had died down, but everyone was still unsettled.

Now, they were a minute or two’s walk away from the houses, and Fernstar wanted her whole patrol together in case they needed to make a run for it. Glorypelt had managed to convince her to let him take his apprentice with them on this journey as a test to see if he was ready to earn his name. She was not eager to send the boy into potential danger on his own.

Nothing more was said until they were close enough that two cats leaning against the walls of the houses twitched their ears and looked up at them. One of them got to their feet and nodded to the other, who limped off into the cobweb of stone.

“Thank the stars you’re here,” the cat said when they were within earshot. Fernstar recognized her as Frostclaw, one of the patrollers sent as a relay for the spies. “It all went horrible, Fernstar. It was so sudden…”

“We heard fighting.” Fernstar stopped to dip her head respectfully to the white molly. “Is anyone badly hurt?”

Frostclaw’s eyes squeezed shut with grief. “We lost Striderfoot.”

The Fleet members with Fernstar all gasped or cried out in anger. Only the plain grey molly at Viceroyclaw’s side remained silent. She bowed her head, and Fernstar saw her claws dig into what little earth could be found in the cracks of the stone.

“I’m sorry, Fogpetal, ma’am,” Frostclaw said to this molly. “It all came out of nowhere. Everyone was fighting. It was chaos. And then Striderfoot, she jumped on someone, and her head hit a wall when they fought back…”

 Fogpetal lifted her paw and Frostclaw fell silent. She looked at Fernstar, who gave one curt nod, and stepped forward. “Take me to Shreddednose. The rest of you, stay with Fernstar and Viceroyclaw.”

The Fleet deputy and Frostclaw trotted off and took a right around a corner. Fernstar lead everyone into the settlement.

It was somehow packed full of cats and felt incredibly empty at the same time. There was no laughing or friendly tussling here; cats sat in small clumps of three or four, grooming each other’s wounds or staring ahead mournfully. Some whispered to each other so quietly that Fernstar could not catch what they were saying. It took a long time for anyone to notice the newcomers, and Fernstar was surprised that, even when they did, no one jumped to their feet or greeted them.

“Where is Redheart?” Fernstar called into the clearing.

“Gone,” someone murmured to her left. “She took a bunch of cats and just left.”

Fernstar twisted her neck fast enough to hurt her and she stared at them. “She left?”

The cat lifted a paw and pushed outward. “Walked off with that healer and his brother. Some other cats, too.”

The crew behind Fernstar shuffled and muttered confusion. Fernstar gestured with her tail and they split off in all directions to sniff around and ask questions. Viceroyclaw stuck to her side, as usual.

“The brother of Greyleaf is gone,” Fernstar repeated to the cat. “Who else?”

The cat sighed. “I’unno. An apprentice, that blind molly-“

“Why didn’t you tell me Fernstar was here?!”

Snowshine came skidding around a corner and scrabbled on the stone, rushing to Fernstar and skidding to a stop. She bobbed her head over and over, fur mud-stained and puffed out, looking nothing like the earnest and proper little seer that Fernstar usually knew.

“I’m sorry, Fernstar, I tried to get someone to stop her, I had my suspicions, and I didn’t follow up on them, I should have, I’m sorry-“

Viceroyclaw cleared her throat and Snowshine faltered, tumbling off her rambling with a few half-started words. She fidgeted nervously, looking between the much larger calico and the ginger molly about her size.

Fernstar kept her composure, though she felt agitation sinking into her pelt as it came off of Snowshine in waves. “Slow down and start from the beginning.”

“Of course.” Snowshine nodded quickly and took a breath. “Redheart heard you were on your way – I found out about the mission, I should say, and I was going to help, however I could-“

Fernstar blinked slowly.

“Anyway-“ Snowshine cleared her throat. “She tried to get everyone to leave immediately, but the Clast got angry, and I tried to get her to stay, or at least have someone catch her and keep her here until you arrived, but her traveling crew, they attacked and a fight broke out. She ran with Greyleaf, but she came back, I don’t know why. She was saying nonsense about StarClan and told everyone to follow her if they wanted to know ‘the truth’, and your spies all went with her.”

Fernstar felt Viceroyclaw look at her in surprise, waiting for her reaction. She took a moment to absorb the story before responding. “And where are they now?”

“I don’t know.” Snowshine’s fidgets got more intense. “I told everyone to catch her and Greyleaf, but no one did anything. They took an apprentice and a random warrior with them, but all the spies are gone too – Mistface and the others.”

“And she killed Striderfoot?” Viceroyclaw asked quietly.

“No, someone else did, on accident-“ Snowshine’s fur took on a sharper look, even as puffed out as it was. “But she might as well have. She was trying to get everyone to leave the Territory with her, and she said StarClan is- I couldn’t believe- she said it’s a monster! She’s talking pure madness now!” Snowshine leaned forward, eyes wide enough to pop out of her head. “And that stupid healer agreed with her! So they dragged off six cats, including an apprentice, Fernstar, a child!”

“I heard you the first time,” Fernstar said, trying to restrain the edge in her voice. She looked to Viceroyclaw. “Get some more information from the others.”

Viceroyclaw nodded uncomfortably and reluctantly shuffled off across the clearing. Fernstar didn’t usually force her to talk to others, but she knew that Snowshine’s account was drastically colored.

Someone cleared their throat. “If you like…”

Fernstar turned around. A sleek silver tom had slunk up behind her.

“Who are you?” Fernstar narrowed her eyes. 

He smiled in an as transparently charming way as he could. “My name is Starkfeather, my leader. If you like, I can give you information, too.”

 ---

 “What do you make of it?”

Fogpetal and Viceroyclaw stood together with Fernstar in the center of the clearing. The rest of the patrol had returned with similar stories: Redheart rushing to get everyone out, the patrollers trying to arrest her, a battle engaging, a death, the strange speech about StarClan, and Redheart and Greyleaf departing with six other cats. Starkfeather had provided that the apprentice was a former seer-in-training, daughter of a Hillock seer (“horribly poor apprentice, may I say”), and that she had taken a cat named Flyfang with her.

Fernstar lifted her chin a little, eyes unfocused as she considered her options. The two deputies looked at her curiously, and the rest of the patrol were sitting around Striderfoot’s body, paying their respects.

“It sounds like we’ll need to bring the two of them in for questioning,” Fernstar deliberated. “I want to question the spies as well. Perhaps we don’t need to arrest them, but I certainly need to discuss them breaking on their mission.”

Fogpetal tilted her head in thought. “We did have Darkpelt saying she wanted to see it through. Perhaps they’re keeping an eye on Redheart while getting more information.”

“I’d like to think that.” Fernstar straightened up and turned to walk away, beckoning the other mollies with her tail. They followed her to the patrollers, where not just her party, but the relay patrollers sat in a ring. All of them looked up at her slowly when she cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry for Striderfoot’s death,” she said. “But I think I’ll require the assistance of your party, Shreddednose. We’re going to track this group down and bring them to the leaders’ den, and I don’t know how much they’ll resist.”

A golden tom’s ears slid back and his muzzle wrinkled. “I’d be happy to give that rot deputy some return on what she let happen.”

“Count me in,” Frostclaw added. A couple other cats agreed alongside her.

Shreddednose looked down at Striderfoot. “We need to bury her, before we do anything else.”

“Of course,” Fogpetal said gently. “If I remember right, her request was somewhere in the open.”

Fernstar gave Fogpetal an appreciative look. The Fleet were always like a family, and this deputy had taken great care to get to know each member, of which there were many. It was such a tight-knit group that they usually handled each other’s burials, instead of whatever actual family they had come from. Even Phoebestar, their leader, was much closer to them than any of the other leaders were to their families.

“It was,” Shreddednose said, her voice husky. She cleared her throat and spoke more clearly, but the pain in her eyes did not go away. “If we may, Fernstar-“

“Just a moment.” Fernstar moved forward and touched her nose to Striderfoot’s side. “We thank you for your service, Striderfoot, and we mourn your loss. Rest well in StarClan.”

This leader’s blessing seemed to ease the Fleet members, and slowly they shifted around until Striderfoot was hoisted on several of their backs. The group moved off together, Fogpetal taking the lead.

Fernstar watched them go, feeling some hurt of her own. Not just for the loss of an innocent cat – she silently grieved for the loss of a deputy that had so much promise that Fernstar had expected her to take her place as leader one day, and of a brilliant healer that she had personally voted for to serve the leaders and high deputies.

“Phoebestar is going to be furious,” Viceroyclaw murmured in her ear, bringing her back into focus.

“We’ll send Mintseed to tell her,” Fernstar said quietly. “Or at least relay to another messenger. I want at least one with us to keep the other leaders updated.”

Viceroyclaw nodded. “Boarpaw will be happy to find a relay for us. He’s capable. I think he can track us down again.”

Fernstar said nothing. She just turned to face the majority of the cats and raised her voice.

“If Redheart returns,” she called in the clearing, “I want everyone here to keep her in place and send word to me or the other leaders. Greyleaf gets the same treatment. Do not be violent with them. Just ensure they stay put.”

A soft wave of affirmative mutters, even from the unfamiliar cats that Fernstar could guess had come to venture off with Redheart in the first place. She stood as tall as she could and started off after the Fleet cats, successfully containing the guilt and pain in her chest to her chest, and nowhere else.

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Four: Chapter Two

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Found ‘em.”

Viceroyclaw, high deputy of the Clast, looked up from the den she was sticking her nose into. A grey molly named Shreddednose was padding up to her with a steely look in her copper eyes. Her paws were muddy and her heavily scarred nose was twitching like she’d gotten dust in it.

“They’re all over this place,” she said. “Come on this way.”

Viceroyclaw stood straight and followed her as she turned back for the way she’d come. The barest traces of sunlight speckled the forest floor, which was cool and soft to the point of almost being wet. The air in these oak woods was cold and dense – they had just barely avoided the mist that made its dawn home here, but even now it was unpleasantly moist. By the expressions on the rest of the search patrol’s faces, they weren’t having much more fun than the high deputy was.

The good thing about this air, at least, was that it held tight onto the scents of whatever or whoever had been here before them. As Shreddednose stepped into the loosely-gathered ring of patrollers and scouts, Viceroyclaw could immediately smell the collection of cats they were after.

“Evidently they stayed the night here,” remarked Glorypelt, a pale ginger tom. “I’m surprised we didn’t catch them before they left.”

“The question is ‘where are they going now’.” The deputy of the Fleet, a grey molly named Fogpetal, stood up and met Viceroyclaw halfway through the circle. “Boarpaw caught a trail heading for the marshes…”

“…But that’s the Marish homeland,” Viceroyclaw finished. She frowned. “They wouldn’t be stupid enough to walk through there, would they?”

“Perhaps they just hit the border,” Boarpaw, a dark grey-brown tom, piped up. “I can go and check again.”

“No need.” Viceroyclaw flicked her tail. “We’re following them, wherever they went. Everyone with me. Boarpaw can lead us as far as he tracked.”

The apprentice straightened up, eyes shining with delight at this new responsibility. He immediately started off at a trot, tail waving. Viceroyclaw nodded to his mentor, Glorypelt, and he followed close behind. The rest of the cats crowded around Viceroyclaw and went along after her.

It was a difficult thing, this whole situation. On one side, there was some urgency in finding these cats – the longer they were out and free, the more chances they had to cause a lot of problems. Gathering more cats to escape the Territory, or riling up other families into fighting again… Viceroy wasn’t entirely sure what they were up to, and that was what made them more dangerous.

On the other side, rushing these Fleet cats too hard would wear them out faster, enduring as they were; their morale would sink, and with it their energy. Plus, so far the vagabonds hadn’t encountered any other Clan members. There was one fighter among them – a tom named Laurelclaw, favored by Sealstar – meaning they would be easy to subdue once they were found. Besides that, the high deputy preferred being in the field, away from the heavy and complicated responsibilities of her position with the leaders. Real work, simple work, was out here. This felt like she was doing something she was actually good at.

Viceroyclaw had been chosen as high deputy, she was certain, because she could provide a looming, intimidating figure for her diminutive leader. She wasn’t particularly bright, she knew that, and bureaucratic discussions made her head spin. She was getting older, too, and that wasn’t the ideal second-in-command for someone like Fernstar, who was aging herself. In fact, Redheart had been in line to take Viceroyclaw’s position as soon as she decided to retire.

Redheart.

Viceroyclaw narrowed her eyes.

Fernstar had tried to hide it, but she was heartbroken over her deputy’s betrayal. She’d invested in this young molly, supported her after the untimely death of her mother. She’d spoken with nothing but pride about her potential and bright future as a leader. The other leaders had expected Redheart to join them one day, and they would have welcomed her gladly. She was bright and driven and confident. She managed to bring some sense of order to the Clast. She could have been something great.

How dare she, Viceroyclaw couldn’t help but think. How dare she throw all of that away for whatever this stupid idea of hers was. How dare she disappoint a leader as wonderful as Fernstar.

“Viceroyclaw.”

The calico looked to her right, where Fogpetal was striding alongside her. She had a cold determination in her eyes, and her ears were pointed backwards.

“We need to think of a plan for when we find them,” she said quietly, her face close to Viceroyclaw’s so she couldn’t be overheard. “Something more specific than just ‘arrest them’.”

Viceroyclaw nodded for her to go on, and she did.

“The trouble is that one of our own is with them. He’s one of the fastest cats I’ve ever met in my life. If he chooses to, he can flee alone, and he just might. I don’t know what the rest of these cats are like, but I want to anticipate that they won’t come quietly.”

“One of them is a -claw,” Viceroyclaw said. “I’ve heard he’s a meek one, though. We might get him easy.”

“And yet we might not,” Fogpetal replied. “He may put up a fight. I don’t know how loyal he is to this group.”

“True.”

“So my thoughts…” Fogpetal lowered her voice even further. “I think we should do our best to ambush them in the night, surround them on all sides. If we can collect more patrollers or willing warriors on the way, that’d be all the better.”

“And if your boy runs?” Viceroyclaw murmured.

Fogpetal narrowed her eyes. “We have Fleet cats who we can notify to intercept him. But I’d like to know where he thinks he’s going, first.”

The patrol emerged from the woods, Boarpaw waiting ahead of them. He had stopped and was now looking at Fogpetal with wide, apprehensive eyes.

“Didn’t go any farther than this, ma’am,” he said. “But I think they’re headin’ south.”

Glorypelt had walked past Boarpaw and had his nose to the ground, sniffing. “He might be right. Are we allowed to walk into Marish land?”

“We can walk anywhere,” Viceroyclaw said, more of an edge in her voice than she intended. “Just because they’re territorial doesn’t mean everyone is forbidden from walking these grounds.”

“Ask the Brae about that,” Fogpetal muttered. “Even a messenger isn’t allowed there.”

Viceroyclaw made a face. “Hopefully we don’t have to deal with them.”

Conversation petered out as the patrol followed the scent trail, which brought them to a streak of bent grass - just bent enough to give them a hint of where their escapees had gone. The sopping, muddy smell of the marsh and its mud and grass soon overwhelmed their noses, and with the dark grass being so tall and odorous, even Viceroyclaw had a hard time seeing where she was going, or smelling where she should be going to begin with. She caught a hint of grumbling behind her, but she didn’t respond, only grit her teeth at the bugs buzzing around her ears and pushed forward.

Evidently, she pushed forward in the wrong direction, because when she finally was out in the open, she couldn’t even see the oak forest anymore.

Fogpetal and the patrol came out beside her, all of them looking in different directions. Viceroyclaw shook her head to clear it of gnats and looked at the Fleet deputy.

“We’re certainly in Marish lands now,” she said. “Perhaps if we find-“

“Not again!”

All cats looked towards the voice, which came from an angry-looking ginger-and-white tom storming towards them. He was flanked by two other cats, both bristling.

“Can’t you beasts keep to yours...“ the tom started, and then trailed off. His steps slowed and stopped as he stared with confusion at Viceroyclaw. The other cats suddenly seemed interested in staying behind him.

Viceroyclaw took the opportunity to move in on them and draw herself up to her full height. “Viceroyclaw, high deputy of the Clast.” She tilted her head in Fogpetal’s direction. “I’m with the Fleet. We’re searching for a few cats, and we’ve lost their trail.”

“Oh, boy.” One of the other cats, a tortoiseshell, looked anxiously at the ginger tom. “Then…”

“You missed them,” said the third, dark brown. “We just had an encounter with a group of eight cats earlier. One of them was our own, once.”

“We thought she’d come back for her sisters,” the ginger tom explained. “But they all left suddenly.”

Fogpetal stepped forward, tail lifted in alert. “Which direction did they go?”

“East, as far as we watched,” the dark brown tom said. “Stars only know why.” He squinted suspiciously at the two deputies. “What business have they here?”

“They’re to be apprehended,” Viceroyclaw said. “If you see them again, immediately send a notice. Let everyone know the cats you saw are under arrest as soon as they’re found.”

The ginger-and-white tom looked delighted. “We’ll have our eyes peeled and sharp for them, don’t you worry.”

“Teach that little punk a thing or two about good behavior, when you find her,” the dark brown tom growled. “She had her brute of a friend intimidate and bully our deputy.”

Viceroyclaw blinked and shared a glance with Fogpetal.

“Perhaps he won’t be so easy to arrest after all,” Fogpetal mused, almost under her breath. She turned again to the Marish trio. “Be wary of them, if they do come by. They have dangerous ideas.”

“I’m sure they do,” the ginger-and-white tom said. The fact that he didn’t bother to ask what the thoughts were and just agreed blindly, Viceroyclaw thought, said enough about the Mairsh in general.  

“We’re heading east, then,” she said. “Let’s move out.”

“There’s a clean path that way,” the tortoiseshell said, pointing with a paw towards a patch of land with flattened grass. “Hurry and get them, will you?”

Viceroyclaw narrowed her eyes at her, but she said nothing. She simply waved her tail farewell and led the patrol the way they were directed.

“East…” Fogpetal had her chin lowered a little, speaking thoughtfully. “All that’s east is the mountain. They can’t be thinking of escaping over the peaks, can they?”

“It’s a possibility,” Viceroyclaw said, hopping a small stream. “We ought to head that way, just in case. I can’t smell them at all around here.”

“That may be our best bet.” Fogpetal looked back at her patrol, talking to them now. “This is going to be a long haul, I can feel it. Anyone who wants to leave now can, but only if you’re going to spread the word while you head out.”

“I’m not leaving,” said Shreddednose. She was mirrored by most of the other cats. Those who didn’t speak firmly shook their heads.

“Very good, then.” Fogpetal nodded approvingly. “You’re true warriors. Let’s pick up the pace, then, and head for the slopes.” She looked to Viceroyclaw. “Is that alright with you?”

“If we can intercept them, that’s all the better.” Viceroyclaw sped up into a jogging trot. “Just keep at a steady pace. We can’t afford to be exhausted when we find them.”

Fogpetal dipped her head respectfully and matched the high deputy’s pace, the other Fleet cats jogging along after her.

Viceroyclaw looked skyward; it was late in the afternoon now. The sped-up pace was a good change, then. Who knew how far ahead the rebels were?

They won’t be far ahead for long, she thought. And when I get my paws on Redheart, she’s going to be sorry.

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Three: Chapter Twelve

(AO3 counterpart here.)

The sun was almost at its highest point, pale clouds mottling the sky white and blue, when Fernstar’s patrol came to a grove of trees.

“This’ll be a restin’ place for them,” Boarpaw said, chest puffed out with pride. He and his mentor, Glorypelt, had come back from their far-ahead scouting with the news that the scents of Redheart and a ‘mess of folk’ were clogging their noses in a place with drying ground and bent grass. The patrol had just reached it – they had walked slowly to allow the scouts to ensure their path was the right one, since the wind was starting to blow away the trail.

Now Fernstar nodded gratefully to Boarpaw and Glorypelt, smiling. “You’ve done good work. Thank you. Take a moment to rest while we investigate.”

Scouts, of course, never liked to rest, but Glorypelt guided his apprentice away from the main cluster of scents and let the rest of the Fleet cats sniff around, taking pathways this way and that, following what still remained in the soft, drying earth.

It was a little frustrating, Fernstar had to admit; the grass had not been bent severely enough to give a concrete trail, meaning they had to go on what the wind and sun hadn’t blown away or baked out of the ground. What was more frustrating was the knowledge that Viceroyclaw had brought up, now scratching at Fernstar’s head.

She couldn’t be gone from the leaders’ den forever. It had been several days now, and it would be several days more before she’d return. She would have to give up this hunt and leave it to the Fleet.

But there were questions she wanted answers to, questions that grew in number with every passing hour. Most of them were about Redheart, of course, but there was something Greyleaf had said when the story was reported to Fernstar that was intensely troubling her.

“Because I’ve seen it too,” he’d said.

What did that mean? Why did he believe in this story about StarClan that Redheart had started to tell when it was so transparently untrue?

Unless…

No. Fernstar shook her head. This was clearly something wrong with the two of them. She had seen StarClan’s power herself, during her leadership ceremony.

Cats circled around her, sniffing, as her mind wandered back to the days when she was younger and stronger. Back when she had fought hard for her position as deputy, had been appointed as high deputy, and waited only two or three years before the previous Clast leader had died and she was taken to the Lighthouse by a seer. She had fallen asleep to the crashes of the ocean’s waves just past the cliff the Lighthouse was set on, and when she’d opened her eyes a trail of stars was in front of her. She’d walked on it, too awed to say anything, coming up to a fawn-colored tom who represented the Clast leaders’ ceremony – Mulleinberry, he’d said his name was. He had gifted her with lives of ambition to serve the Clan and a drive to keep everyone safe and happy.

She’d like to think she'd kept good on the promise those gifts implied.

“Fernstar?”

She refocused. Fogpetal and Viceroyclaw were standing in front of her, looking at the little leader with concern and a bit of nervousness.

Fernstar slanted her head a little, indicating that she was listening, and Fogpetal spoke first.

“Viceroyclaw spoke to you earlier about you perhaps going back north,” she said carefully. “I understand that you being absent from the leaders can cause some trouble.”

Fernstar blinked slowly and stayed silent.

“If you like,” Fogpetal continued, undeterred, “we can continue the tracking from here, and you can return home.”

“I’ll stay with them,” Viceroyclaw offered, certainly more nervous than Fogpetal. “And I can send reports back to you. If- if that’s what you think is best.”

Fernstar knew very well that Viceroyclaw had made that suggestion because the alternative – acting as leader on Fernstar’s behalf – terrified her. A smaller, quieter group with a set mission that she didn’t have to invent and improvise on all the time was easier on her.

Fernstar took a moment to think. Not more than a moment. She could decide things quickly.

“Very well,” she said. “That may be best. I trust that you’ll do your duty to the best of your abilities, you two.”

The mollies bowed their heads respectfully.

“I can travel alone,” Fernstar continued. “Keep everyone you can with you. If you meet with any strangers, let them know who you’re searching for. The word will spread on its own after that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said together.

Fernstar didn’t waste time. The clouds were thickening on the horizon, and she didn’t care to be caught in the rain if she could help it. With a wave goodbye and a thanks to everyone, she set off as if she hadn’t a thought in the world beyond her duties. But one did pick at her.

“Because I’ve seen it too.”

What did they see?

 ---

 Watching what little of the sky he could see, sitting alone, Greyleaf hated.

It would surprise many cats, if not everyone, to take a look into his mind and see how much hate coursed through his veins. How it soaked into his muscles and the very, very little fat he had on him. How every hair on his body wanted to be bristled at all times, how he wanted to bite and claw and scream to get it out. Fear had been his foremost thought the second he was born into a cold world, wet and blind and deaf. But ever since that fateful meeting with the Runagate, since his first sight of Redheart… slowly but surely, that fear started to burn instead of freeze him. It strained at his eyes, coloring everything with the knowledge he had now with red. It grew teeth that cried to tear apart StarClan and everyone who saw him with pity and contempt, who had no idea of the truth.

Mistface wouldn’t believe him if he said all this, probably. Mama certainly wouldn’t. Maybe no one would. Greyleaf had quickly become very good at containing himself starting from apprenticeship.

It was just a survival instinct at this point. Redheart had responded to StarClan’s truth with grief and determination. A plan that kept her alive. Greyleaf had no plan. He just had hate to protect him. And it’d done a good job so far.

But it couldn’t protect everyone else.

It couldn’t protect Nettlecloud.

“Hey.”

Greyleaf jolted and turned sharply to his right. Flyfang, standing behind him, jumped a little herself in alarm. Far behind her, Mistface and Redheart were whispering with Darkpelt, like conspirers. Laurelclaw, Littlepaw and Beetlefoot sat together, with Laurelclaw huddling like he wasn’t far outsizing the two of them no matter how he was postured. The air was tense, but it wasn’t frightened. It wasn’t hateful.

Greyleaf realized belatedly that he hadn’t said anything to Flyfang, so he cleared his throat. “Hi.”

Flyfang relaxed a little and tilted her head. “You doing alright?”

Greyleaf didn’t know how to answer that. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His jaw twitched and he looked down, away.

“You’ve just been by yourself for quite a while, is all.” Flyfang stepped closer with great caution. “Mistface was going to check on you, but Darkpelt wanted him and Redheart for some conversation or another. I don’t know why she didn’t ask for you, you and Redheart work together and all, but…”

Something must have shown on his face, because Flyfang trailed off. She instead closed the distance and sat down next to him, tail tapping nervously. Greyleaf returned his gaze to the thin sunlight, grateful for the shadows of the forest.

“I thought you looked a little stressed,” Flyfang said after a moment. “I know that’s normal for you, but…”

Greyleaf did not care to tell her what he had been stewing over the past few minutes. He just went with what was always on his mind, even just in the back. “I’m worried about my Mama.”

Flyfang’s face softened. Saddened a little, too. “Beetlefoot mentioned she wasn’t doing well the last time he saw her.”

Greyleaf saw no reason to be gentle. “She’s about to die. Cancer.” He squeezed his eyes shut, pain and grief and helpless rage in his chest. “She might be dead now, for all I know.”

Flyfang didn’t say it, but they thought the same thing.

And StarClan might have her.

“I shouldn’t talk,” Greyleaf said suddenly. “Your mother’s been there for a while.”

Flyfang nodded, her voice strained. “She has. Unless she was quick enough to run.”

“We rarely are,” Greyleaf muttered.

The two were quiet for a moment, before Flyfang fully turned to him.

“I have a request,” she said.

Greyleaf looked at her sidelong.

“If you and Redheart and everyone decide to leave…” She shifted a little, anxious. “I’d like to get my sisters before we go. They’re not far from here.”

Greyleaf blinked. “You’d travel with us?”

“I mean, yeah.” Flyfang gave him a mildly humorous look. “You all know the truth and I’ve made friends with a couple of you. And I trust you and Redheart. You’re both smart.”

At this, Greyleaf did half-smile. “Against all odds.”

“And you’re tough,” Flyfang added. “Like, just knowing about this, having no idea what to do, it almost makes me crazy. I have no idea how you two are sane knowing this your whole lives.”

Greyleaf’s smile faded just a little, but it didn’t go away. “I’m barely hanging on at this point, honestly. It’s been a lot of edging along a narrow cliffside, hoping not to fall, for my whole life.”

“Especially with your nightmares.” Flyfang shook her head, voice admiring. “I didn’t think anything of you at all when I first met you at the Clast. Healer, weak, nervous, all that. Did not expect you to be as hardcore as you are. Redheart, I could get, but not you.”

The idea of being ‘hardcore’ made an amused huff escape from Greyleaf. “I don’t know about that.”

“Dude, if any of us had suffered this for so long, I think we’d all go nuts.” Flyfang smiled broadly at him, oddly looking impressed. “And you’ve been at this since you were a kit. I think that qualifies as hardcore.”

Greyleaf’s eyes lowered to the ground, but his smile felt more genuine. “…Thanks, then.”

“No problem.” Flyfang leaned her head forward a little to look him in the eyes. “Are you a little happier?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Then my work is done.” Flyfang gave a self-satisfactory nod. “I just got worried about where your head was, and I thought you might need a bit of cheering up.”

Greyleaf looked at her, eyes narrowed in a more friendly way than anything else. “You’re not bad at it. Do you cheer up your sisters a lot?”

“Plenty enough.” Flyfang puffed out a sigh. “The Marish are terrible for a kit’s mental health, I’ll tell you. Mosquitopaw and Gnatpaw must be desperate to get out by now.” Her voice quieted a little. “And they have no idea of the real reason why they should.”

Greyleaf wanted to return the favor of positivity, but just as he opened his mouth, Redheart called, “If everyone can gather around!”

The two grey cats looked at each other in surprise, but stood up and joined the others, where they all sat down, watching the conspirators curiously. Mistface had a calmly pleased and, oddly, almost eager look on his face, and Redheart’s eyes were no longer exhausted. Darkpelt’s usual wide eyes and big smile were present where they should be, but there was a sparkle in them that Greyleaf couldn’t define.

“We have a proposition,” Darkpelt said. “And we’d like to share it with you.”

[calitraditionalism]

Steorra: For All We Hold Dear - Allegiances

Relevant Allegiances

(Cats that show up in this arc, minor character section subject to future edits)

Main Cast:

Mistface - Pale blue-grey tom with green eyes and long fur. Scattered warrior.

Greyleaf - Grey tabby tom with green eyes and long fur. Scattered healer.

Nettlecloud - Pale blue-grey molly with green eyes and long fur. Scattered warrior.

Beetlefoot - Dark brown tom with yellow eyes. Fleet messenger, from Brae.

Littlepaw - Tiny fawn calico molly with blue eyes. Hillock apprentice.

Laurelclaw - Large white tom with yellow eyes and a torn ear. Plage warrior.

Flyfang - Dark grey ticked tabby molly with green eyes. Marish warrior.

Darkpelt - Lean black tabby molly with blind yellow eyes. Versant warrior.

Redheart - Tall red ticked tabby molly with orange eyes. Clast deputy.

Leaders:

Fernstar - Tiny ginger tabby molly with green eyes. Clast leader.

Lightningstar - Golden tabby cat with orange eyes. Hillock leader.

Pebblestar - Tall grey tom with yellow-green eyes. Scattered leader.

Sealstar - Large dark brown tom with yellow eyes. Plage leader.

Aphidstar - Small white tom with golden tabby patches and blue eyes. Marish leader.

Cedarstar - Tortoiseshell molly with orange eyes. Brae leader.

Thornstar - Brown tabby tom with green eyes. Versant leader.

Phoebestar - Black molly with green eyes. Fleet leader.

Minor Characters:

Viceroyclaw - Muscular calico molly with yellow eyes. Clast high deputy.

Fogpetal: Plain grey molly with yellow eyes. Deputy patroller, from Clast.

Shreddednose - Grey molly with scarring on the bridge of her nose and copper eyes. Patroller, from Clast.

Brushdust - Golden tabby tom with green eyes. Scattered patroller.

Frostclaw - White molly with green eyes. Patroller, from Marish.

Grapejump - Black-and-white molly with blue eyes. Scattered patroller.

Mintseed - Spotted gray molly with pale green eyes. Scattered messenger.

Boarpaw: Dark grey-brown tabby tom with orange eyes. Scattered scout.

Glorypelt: Pale ginger tabby tom with brown eyes. Scout, from Hillock.

Newtbite - Tortoiseshell molly with yellow eyes. Patroller, from Plage.

Torntail - Calico molly with half of her tail missing and blue eyes.

Bearface - Scattered. Tall, handsome black tom with green eyes. Scattered patroller.

Thrashercloud - Grey-brown tabby tom with yellow-green eyes. Patroller, from Brae.

Firpaw - Grey tabby tom with yellow eyes.

[calitraditionalism]

Steorra: Brought to Light - Allegiances

Relevant Allegiances

(Cats that show up in this arc, minor character section subject to future edits)

Main Cast:

Mistface - Pale blue-grey tom with green eyes and long fur. Scattered warrior.

Greyleaf - Grey tabby tom with green eyes and long fur. Scattered healer.

Nettlecloud - Pale blue-grey molly with green eyes and long fur. Scattered warrior.

Beetlefoot - Dark brown tom with yellow eyes. Fleet messenger, from Brae.

Littlepaw - Tiny fawn calico molly with blue eyes. Hillock apprentice.

Laurelclaw - Large white tom with yellow eyes and a torn ear. Plage warrior.

Flyfang - Dark grey ticked tabby molly with green eyes. Marish warrior.

Darkpelt - Lean black tabby molly with blind yellow eyes. Versant warrior.

Redheart - Tall red ticked tabby molly with orange eyes. Clast deputy.

Leaders:

Fernstar - Tiny ginger tabby molly with green eyes. Clast leader.

Lightningstar - Golden tabby cat with orange eyes. Hillock leader.

Pebblestar - Tall grey tom with yellow-green eyes. Scattered leader.

Sealstar - Large dark brown tom with yellow eyes. Plage leader.

Aphidstar - Small white tom with golden tabby patches and blue eyes. Marish leader.

Cedarstar - Tortoiseshell molly with orange eyes. Brae leader.

Thornstar - Brown tabby tom with green eyes. Versant leader.

Phoebestar - Black molly with green eyes. Fleet leader.

Minor Characters:

Snowshine - Pretty little white molly with yellow eyes. Clast seer.

Brightblaze - Red-and-white tom with blue eyes. Scattered warrior.

Shreddednose - Grey molly with scarring on the bridge of her nose and copper eyes. Patroller, from Clast.

Thrashercloud - Grey-brown tabby tom with yellow-green eyes. Patroller, from Brae.

Brushdust - Golden tabby tom with green eyes. Scattered patroller.

Frostclaw - White molly with green eyes. Patroller, from Marish.

Grapejump - Black-and-white molly with blue eyes. Scattered patroller.

Striderfoot - Lanky black molly. Scattered messenger.

Viceroyclaw - Muscular calico molly with yellow eyes. Clast high deputy.

Mintseed: Spotted gray molly with pale green eyes. Scattered messenger.

Boarpaw: Dark grey-brown tabby tom with orange eyes. Scattered scout.

Glorypelt: Pale ginger tabby tom with brown eyes. Scout, from Hillock.

Newtbite: Tortoiseshell molly with yellow eyes. Patroller, from Plage.

Bearface: Scattered. Tall, handsome black tom with green eyes. Scattered patroller.

Fogpetal: Plain grey molly with yellow eyes. Deputy patroller, from Clast.