#courageous cat and minute mouse

[who-do-i-know-this-man-s4]

⚠️Vote for whomever YOU DO NOT KNOW⚠️‼️

[acmeoop]

Curtains For You!! “Courageous Cat & Minute Mouse Recreation” (1980s)

[docgold13]

Bob Kane’s Courageous Cat paper cut-out

[bunnziebobcat]

Fan Art Friday - Bob Kane's Friends

This week's #FanArtFriday features Cool McCool meets Courageous Cat and Minute Mouse, all to celebrate not only their creator Bob "Batman" Kane on what would've been his 108th birthday, but they're also celebrating the 75th anniversary of the infamous "Dewey Defeats Truman" headline from the Chicago Tribune. But, no matter what anniversary Cool McCool is celebrating, Danger is his business.

[purinfelix]

could you please write something where trent pining for his bestfriend for a long time before he finally confesses to her that he has feelings?? thank you! i love your writing sm <3

something stupid ₊˚⊹

pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x reader summary: Trent’s never been the best at concealing his jealousy, especially not when it comes to you - even if the two of you are ‘just friends’ warnings: none w/c: 1k

a/n: had to combine these two because they gave me the best idea everrr ... anyways i missed writing for trent like i realised i don't acc write for him that much - soo pls send more trent reqss!! <33

♬ and then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like "I love you" ♬

Trent couldn’t decide what feeling was worse - the intense, almost burning jealousy ripping through him as he watched you from across the bar, or the even more intense guilt consuming him for even daring to feel that way. To feel such an all-consuming possessiveness over someone who wasn’t even his, and to be left with no option other than to loiter in the corner like some idiot, his grip on his drink growing tighter by the second.

You wouldn’t blame him, surely, you couldn’t. With the way you looked tonight, and the fact that you had personally invited him out with you - albeit with a couple mutual friends - but none of them mattered, at least not to him. It also didn’t help that you had spent the last couple of years, ever since meeting through a group project in some long-forgotten university class, dragging him through some sick cat-and-mouse game. Always toeing the line between being just close friends, or something vaguely more, and Trent hated himself for just going along with it, but he’d by lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how weak he was to your charms.

But as he watched you, his breath heavy and heart beating steadily, he couldn’t help but question whether you had meant to do any of it at all. He watched you throw your head back in laughter and hot jealousy pulsed through him once more, yearning for nothing more than to be the one making you laugh instead of whatever other guy you were lending your attention to. Still, you looked so happy, so at peace, he couldn’t help but curse himself for even considering the possibility that you were purposely making him pine after you. After all, it was his fault - he had still yet to muster up the courage to ask you out on a date, even after being stupidly enamoured with everything about you since the day he met you. It was probably more rational to consider that he had just misread most of your actions beyond the friendly gestures they were supposed to be.

Suddenly, his attention was turned to the steady arm of another one of your male friends snaking around your waist, which Trent had been dragging his gaze along excruciatingly slowly - but now his focus was turned to the fact that this asshole was pulling you closer to himself, and further away from Trent.

Fuck rationality.

The thud of his glass was definite, followed quickly by his heavy footsteps as Trent shoved past the small group you had amassed, not bothering to make his actions subtle. It was clear to everyone, including himself, that Trent was moving faster than his rational thoughts could form, but that didn’t seem to matter when his hand was already wrapped tightly around your wrist, dragging you in the direction of the bar’s exit. You protested, struggling against his grip, but all it took was one look from him as he turned back to you - equal parts pained and pleading - for you to go with him.

The biting cold of the late night hit you the minute you stepped out of the bar, causing you to stop straight in your tracks and huff with frustration.

“Trent, what the hell is going on with you?” your tone was demanding, not making any effort to conceal your annoyance with him.

“I wasn’t going to stand by and watch that filth lay his hands all over you,” he retorts, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was equally annoyed with you. But from the way he can’t stand still and his eyes are scanning the pavement, avoiding yours, you know there’s something else at play here.

“Bullshit.”

“Wh- I can’t do something nice for you?”

“Giving me a life, paying for dinner, those are nice things - not snatching me away when I was in the middle of a conversation? Why do you care if some guy touches me?”

“Why do I care?” he scoffs, almost as if he doesn’t believe you haven’t realised why yet, “Because I’m in love with you! You’ve invited my out tonight, and you seem to be having the time of your life, but when I saw you with that guy, him making you laugh, touching you, all I could think about was how much I wanted it to be me instead. How much I’ve always wanted it to be me.”

A silence falls over you two, and it’s only now that the weight of Trent’s actions have hit him, as well as the realisation that he can’t do anything to take back his words now, or stop whatever reaction you’re about to give him. He makes his regret obvious almost immediately, his flustered expression dropping as he looks down to the ground once more, unable to bring himself to look at you. His confession hangs in the air, having changed both everything and nothing at once.

You stood there, slack-jawed, mind racing yet absolutely speechless. You’d be lying if you hadn’t at least suspected Trent of having feelings for you, but you had brushed any inkling you had off as your own misinterpretation. Hearing him say it out loud was another thing entirely, and it was overwhelming your every sense, but in a good way.

The silence became too much to bear, and Trent figured he’d have to be the one to brave it, “Say something, please,” he mumbles, voice heavy, almost preparing himself for rejection.

“Trent…” you begin, stepping slightly closer and reaching out to take his hand in yours, “I’ve wanted it to be you too.”

At this, he looks up at you, eyes glistening. “Really?” the disbelief in his voice almost breaks your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, almost laughing at how ridiculous this is, “for a while, actually.”

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” he lets out an almost comical sigh of relief, finally breaking into a smile, and you can’t help but do the same.

“Now, I’d like to get back to my drink, if you don’t mind,” you say, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“Why would I mind?” he laughs, and you could slap him right there and then, but you can only smile in faux-annoyance as the two of you walk back to the bar, hand-in-hand.

[ask-postcrash-curly]

One of you asked me about cartoons I watched as a child. Not sure what happened to the question, but I’ll answer anyway.

I mostly watched older stuff. I was really into Courageous Cat and Minute Mouse for a while. I did have a few modern shows, though. I liked that cowboy one. Artie’s Pony Adventures. Better than it sounds. Ah, speaking of ponies, there was this magic pony show I watched when I was little. What was it called again? Jim and Anya watched it too, I think. We were just talking about it last haul… Damn, I can’t remember.

[perllet]

A slight girl sat at the back of the cafe, a smudge against the white linoleum. She was examining a guide book intently, hair falling over her face as she bent over the table, a black apostrophe on a white page. Commander Graham Gore had been sat across the street, on the fading bench, for over ten minutes, watching her. Muscles tensing to stand, (to - what? Enter the cafe, or go home?), before they relaxed, and he continued to watch, letting the roach burn out between his scarred fingers before he tucked another cigarette between his teeth. She was poring over the old travel-book, with a photograph tucked between her fingers, her attention sliding between the two. The waitress had approached twice with the jug of filter coffee, before withdrawing, scowling at the lack of response.

He couldn’t tell what he felt exactly regarding the ferocity at which she was clearly trying to identify his whereabouts - that blasted photo, sent at a moment of weakness, or a moment of courage. She was a picture of everything that he adored and hated in her, a ferocious, calculating, clever little alley cat, who would find a way to track their exact footprints through the wilderness once she decided she would. She was also a woman who was, ultimately, ruled by her devotion, which meant that if she had followed him all the way to the small town they had chosen for its links to Anchorage and the fact that its people all seemed to be living in the past, then he was included within that small bubble of devotion. All her love and devotion, he still hadn’t decided what to make of it.

On Erebus, and before, at Navarino, even on the Beagle, he believed the decisions he made were a product of pure logic, boiled and skimmed of any foolish fear or apprehension. These last few months, however…He had begun to see the traces of feeling, of his heart, in every decision he made now. If he didn’t stop to listen to what that peculiar, disembodied voice advised him, he would never have left the safe house in London. It used to be that logic saved his life. Now, he wasn’t sure if it was working for or against him. Like now. The muscles of his legs pulled taut, again, as he considered his options. He could be back at the cabin, bags packed, Maggie roused from her appalling nap schedule, and into the wild of this sparse state before she had even taken the first sip of her cold coffee.

It was this image that made him stand. And all questions of logic and devotion drained away as he stepped into the cafe, moving towards the table at the far end of the window. Unlike the waitress, his presence made her shoulders come up to her ears, and she raised her head slowly, already knowing.

Their gazes caught on a live wire. His arms were crossed, his face void of emotion - it was his last defence. Her expression was the opposite, so many thoughts passing over the ghostly little face that he had equally no clue what she was imagining. She swallowed, and tucked the photograph into the Alaska: Lost Steps guide, folding her hands primly over them both. For a second, the roles were switched - she was the mouse pinned under his feline claw.

“Hello, little cat.”

[a/n: I am devastated at finishing ministry of time and I need something anything to fill this void. it was just perfect]

[taylortruther]

a lot songs on folklore actually relate to a very specific feeling for Taylor and since she'll never really explain each line, we'll never fully understand. But it seems like she had a lot of feelings she had to go through and narrow down into 3 minutes songs.

peace is about two things: she feels like she's not good enough & she really loves Joe (and how the first affects the latter).

"Our coming of age has come and gone / suddenly this summer it's clear" -> I personally think this is her thinking she and Joe are end game (😬). They're beyond all the cat-and-mouse game, beyond leading each other on and all that 2016 stuff.

But then there's one thing that might ruin their relationship and it's her. She never has the courage to do what's right if it might bring backlash because she's a people pleaser (mirrorball) and in hindsight I think this quality of hers bothered him. There's always danger, there's always something she has to deal with (particularly negative reactions from the GP which is powerful source of fear). But actually the problem isn't anything external, it's her (hi!) She's the problem. Her people-pleasing is all her, she's the narcissist and his integrity makes her seem so small.

this song is truly SO fun to analyze because it's like every line can have slightly different interpretations. i really like this take! i agree with your last paragraph in particular. clearly her mirrorball-ness is something she appreciates at times, but it feels fraught the way she describes those qualities in some "joe" songs.

[minyboy]

Courageous Cat is her to save the day in any given minute... mouse.

[celestiall0tus]

Miraculous - Paradise (Genderbend AU) Update!!

Alright, everyone! Good news! I have the miraculous reassigned and power system redetermined for Paradise. Along with this is the very skeletal version of the plot.

The plot:

Mallon and Adrienne fight against Papillon as they threaten the city. Papillon creates her threats to draw out the kwamis she needs for her ultimate wish, the creation of Paradise, Heaven on Earth.

Before I get to the cast, the power system will be fairly simple. Kwamis don't need to eat to regenerate and use more powers. Instead, every kwami offers a single power the holder can use as many times as they please (This carrying over from Absolution). They will have one greater power that the holder can use once a day for five minutes and that's it. On top of that, they all have a Miraculous power between kwami sets that once used (i.e. Creation and Destruction, Perception and Ignorance, Deception and Truth, etc), the holders de-transform one minute after and can't transform again for the rest of the day. This will be a set in stone system where the heroes can't influence it.

Now, the cast:

Mallon (Marinette):

Age: 17

Sexuality: Gay

Ladybug of Creation - Earrings

Weapon is Yo-Yo. Lesser Power is Object Creation, Greater Power is Creation (as a whole)

Adrienne (Adrien):

Age: 17

Sexuality: Gay

Black Cat of Destruction - Ring.

Weapon is staff. Lesser Power is Object Destruction, Greater Power is Destruction (as a whole)

Claude (Chloe):

Age: 17

Bee of Devotion - Hair Comb

Sexuality: Bisexual

Weapon is a lasso. Lesser Power is Command, Greater Power is Bless

Felise (Felix):

Age: 18

Spider of Betrayal - Anklet

Sexuality: Straight

Weapons are daggers. Lesser Power is Treachery Inducement, Greater Power is Bond Destruction

Julez (Juleka):

Age: 17

Mouse of Perception - Necklace

Sexuality: Gay

Weapon is whip. Lesser Power is Omni senses, Greater Power is Perception Manipulation

Ren (Rose):

Age: 16

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pig of Ignorance - Anklet.

Weapon is parasol. Lesser Power is Ignorance Inducement, Greater Power is Ignore (a variation of defiance)

Alix (Alix):

Age: 16

Sexuality: Aromatic pansexual (Romance Averse)

Rabbit of Connection - Earrings

Weapons are ribbons. Lesser Power is Telepathy, Greater Power is Connections

Sarjant (Sabrina):

Age: 16

Sexuality: Bisexual

Horse of Freedom - Glasses

Weapon is a rapier. Lesser Power is Teleportation, Greater Power is Defiance

Lieto (Lila):

Age: 18

Sexuality: Aromantic Bisexual (Romance Positive)

Fox of Deception - Necklace.

Weapons are smoke bombs. Lesser Power is Illusion, Greater Power is Shapeshift

Amile (Amelie):

Age: 46

Sexuality: Straight

Lynx of Honesty - Ring

Weapon is a bow. Lesser Power is Truth Telling, Greater Power is Absolute Change

Zack (Zoe):

Age: 15

Sexuality: Gay

Dog of Love - Choker.

Weapon is a bow (like cupid's bow) Lesser Power is Love Inducement, Greater Power is Empathy

Nathalia (Nathaniel):

Age: 17

Sexuality: Lesbian

Rooster of Animosity - Clawed Ring.

Weapons are dual chained hand sickles. Lesser Power is Rage Inducement, Greater Power is Rage Form (Berserk)

Marceline (Marc):

Age: 16

Sexuality: Lesbian

Bat of Fear - Bracelet

Weapons is scythe (grim reaper style) Lesser Power is Fear Inducement, Greater Power is Terror Constructs

Kim (Kim):

Age: 17

Sexuality: Straight

Tiger of Valor - Chain Ring Bracelet.

Weapon is lance. Lesser Power is Courage Inducement, Greater Power is Clout

Nina (Nino):

Age: 17

Sexuality: Straight

Goat of Revelry - Hair Clips.

Weapon is pitchfork. Lesser Power is Sin Inducement, Greater Power is Anarchy

Bierk (Bridgette):

Age: 18

Sexuality: Straight

Monkey of Delight - Circlet.

Weapon is staff. Lesser Power is Joy Inducement, Greater Power is Indomitable Happiness

Ivet (Ivan):

Age: 17

Sexuality: Straight

Raven of Sorrow - Watch

Weapon is a scythe. Lesser Power is Sorrow Inducement, Greater Power is Isolation

Alain (Alya):

Age: 17

Sexuality: Straight

Wolf of Intuition - Chain Ring Bracelet

Weapon is flute. Lesser Power is Supernatural Tracking, Greater Power is Clairvoyance

Maxi (Max):

Age: 17

Sexuality: Asexual Heteromantic (Sex Averse)

Owl of Knowledge - Bracelet

Weapon is a book. Lesser Power is Answer Intution, Greater Power is Claircognizance

Katsumi (Kagami):

Age: 17

Sexuality: Gay

Ox of Determination - Ring

Weapon is a warhammer. Lesser Power is Perserverance Manipulation, Greater Power is Indomitable Will

Natale (Nathalie):

Age: 40

Sexuality: Straight

Peacock of Beauty - Brooch.

Weapon is fan. Lesser Power is Mesmerize, Greater Power is Absolute Beauty

Gabriella:

Age: 45

Sexuality: Straight

Butterfly of Transformation - Brooch

Weapon is cane. Lesser Power is Mutation Inducement, Greater Power is Amalgamation

Ondine (Ondine):

Age: 17

Sexuality: Straight

Snake of Health - Bracelet.

Weapon is a staff (the Asclepius staff). Lesser Power is Cure, Greater Power is Rejuvenate

Meryle (Mylene):

Age: 16

Sexuality: Pansexual

Dragon of Nature - Choker.

Weapon is a glaive. Lesser Power is Nature Manipulation, Greater Power is Form Shift (Greater Nature Manipulation)

Luz (Luka):

Age: 17

Sexuality: Bisexual

Turtle of Protection - Bracelet

Weapon is shield. Lesser Power is Shield Generation, Greater Power is Fortification Creation

I believe that covers everyone. All this is still subject to change, and not completely set in stone (except the power system) Character designs should be coming with the next couple of weeks, so keep an eye out for those as they will have more details on the characters.

[who-do-i-know-this-man-s4]

⚠️Vote for whomever YOU DO NOT KNOW⚠️‼️

[pulpsandcomics2]

Courageous Cat and Minute Mouse coloring book (1962)

[docgold13]

Profiles in Villainy

Chauncey ‘FlatFace’ Frog

This crumb-bum is a gangster from Empire City who matched wits with Courageous Cat and Minute Mouse.  Voiced by John Holiday, ol’ FlatFace’s appearance, voice and mannerisms were a homage of Edward G Robinson’s performances in numerous gangster movies (most notably the 1931 crime drama Little Caesar).  

Fortunately, the daring Courageous Cat and his partner, Minute Mouse, were always able to thwart Flatface’s dastardly schemes.  The villain first appeared in the debut episode of Courageous Cat & Minute Mouse entitled, ‘Disguise the Limit’ which aired in September of 1960.

[stupittmoran]

Courageous 🐱Cat & Minute 🐭Mouse If you know what this is, you old as dirt!

[andyheckchefboydardee]

courageous cat and minute mouse (new fav cartoon series - low key very funny)

[kittypets-unite-au]

KU: Into the Wild Prologue

I just realized that I haven’t posted any actual chapters for this blog even though the prologue and chapter one are done. Whoops! Prepare for a double update today party peeps!

It was the darkest night in winter that any cat could recall, although it certainly wasn’t the coldest. The eye of Silverpelt had fluttered shut, which left only stars to grace the land with their eerie glow. Thick, dark clouds hung over her star dappled pelt and the biting cold seemed laced with tense anticipation.

On the ground below the heavens lay a wide river, its waters warbling quietly and gently. On one side of this river lay an expansive wetland that gave way to rolling grasslands and open marshes, dotted with the occasional willow, birch, or alder. On the other side of the river lay a dense forest, ringed by dense undergrowth and tall grass akin to a defensive line protecting the woods from any outside threats.

On the sandy bank near the forest lay a wide collection of boulders, laying flat or towering high above the ground. Some crevices and cracks sheltered the tender stalks of dills, and the occasional mouse gained enough courage to snatch a fallen seed that had fallen from the canopy above.

A few silent minutes passed before a rustle came from the forest undergrowth. Cats began to slide out of the foliage with their claws unsheathed and their ears pinned back. The group prowled closer to the rocks with lashing tails, and while some of them made their way into the thick of the stones, others climbed onto the largest boulders and crouched.

Just a moment later, several more cats slid unannounced from the river. Their sleek pelts shed the water with ease as they marched forward to meet their forest foes.

Each group hissed and spat at each other, their unsheathed claws glinting with star light. Heading the front of the river crowd stood a large cinnamon tom whose relaxed posture exuded confidence. His dark green eyes held a glint of contempt as his gaze swept over the comparatively thinner forest cats.

Only a heartbeat later, a small calico tom with a large, bushy ginger tail emerged from the forest crowd. Unlike the river tom, his muzzle was wrinkled and his ears laid flat against his head. Despite his angry appearance, his steps were silent as the two toms trotted to face the other down. The crowd quieted and tension hung in the air as the two toms faced off.

“Oakheart.” The small tom struggled to keep his tone neutral. His large tail twitched, carefully being restrained from lashing in frustrated arcs. He breathed through his nose and straightened up in a poor attempt to appear taller than he really was.

“Redtail.” Oakheart spoke smoothly. Unlike Redtail, he kept his calm and haughty posture, which seemed to please the river cats.

Redtail’s deep amber eyes narrowed. “I do believe Bluestar has warned your warriors time and time again that the sunningrocks is ours. It’s been on our shore for generations now, after all.”. The forest cats behind him yowled in support.

Oakheart smirked in response and puffed his pale chest out in pride. “Really now?” He drawled mockingly. His squared head tilted to the side. “Because I remember that these rocks were those of our ancestors, and that they warmed their fur and hunted on them long before you ThunderClanners ever took them away. Not all that fair to claim these stones for your own, hmm?”

“Hunting my ass!” Shouted a small pale brown molly from the back of the ThunderClan patrol, “All you fat otters do nowadays is laze around and act like you own the place! At least we actually hunt here!”

Her clanmates shouted their support and yelled jeers and taunts at their enemies. The sleek cats behind Oakheart growled and hissed right back, but a look and flick of their deputy’s tail-tip silenced them.

He turned back to Redtail, his face not betraying the same outrage as his clanmates. He raised a darker colored paw and patted the smaller tom’s head like he was nothing more than a misbehaving kit. This drew offended gasps from the cats gathered behind him and made the smaller tom hiss.

“Now, chap, is this really worth the effort? I’ve heard quite a bit that your numbers are low lately, are they not? And here we are, strong, well-fed, and outnumbering your pathetic excuse of a battle patrol!”

He leaned in close enough that their noses nearly touched, his paw still resting on his head, and murmured, “So, what do you think is wise? Turn back now and save yourself the trouble, or get your scrawny asses whipped by us?”

Redtail chose to not dignify those words with anything more than a low growl, and barreled into the surprised RiverClan tom. Oakheart yowled in shock as the two toms interlocked in a fierce battle.

On cue, the two groups of cats launched at each other, hissing and spitting at each other as a colorful array of loose fur and blood splattered the smooth stones. The Thunderclanners positioned on top of the rocks leap down onto their foes, which drew yowls of shock and rage.

In a short amount of time, Oakheart managed to smack Redtail hard enough to dislodge him. Redtail ducked away and rejoined the battle, but before Oakheart could do the same, another tom pounced on him.

His new opponent was a far cry from the smaller but faster calico, towering over the cinnamon tom with well-muscled limbs and broad shoulders full of power. His thick, long dark brown tabby fur flowed in the cold breeze and the faint starlight cast a frosty, ethereal glimmer to his fur. His small amber eyes almost seemed to blaze in the night and he carried a multitude of scars on his pelt.

They rolled around in furious combat, locked together in a whirlwind of teeth, claws, and fur. Oakheart had the advantage of grace and quick reflexes, being quick enough to dodge several of his blows, but the large tabby had the upper hand strength-wise, and a well-aimed blow to the RiverClanner’s head knocked the tom backwards, disorienting him enough to fall onto his back.

He struggled to his paws but was forced onto the ground, the tabby’s large paws pinning his shoulders down and erasing any chance to escape. And any attempts to squirm away were met with long claw-tips only just digging into his skin. Not enough to truly tear his flesh but enough to serve as a warning.

“Oakheart!” The tabby tom snarled furiously. He jutted his broad muzzle into Oakheart’s face as his lips peeled back into a snarl. “How dare you hunt in our territory! The Sunningrocks belong to ThunderClan!”

Oakheart laughed heartily and sneered, “You ThunderClanners are denser than your trees! After tonight, this land will belong to us once more!

Tigerclaw’s pale amber eyes narrowed into slits of pure anger. He lifted a paw and slammed it into the RiverClan tom’s throat, harsh enough to knock the breath out of him but gentle enough to not crush it entirely.

Oakheart heaved and gasped for air, looking up at the ThunderClan warrior with poorly hidden fear and hate. The dark brown tabby tom chuckled as the tom heaved and gasped for air.

“What, run out of clever things to say, fishface?” He taunted. He leaned to the pinned tom so close that their muzzles almost touched in a similar manner that the RiverClan deputy had done with Redtail moments earlier.

Oakheart snarled indignantly as his breath finally returned to his lungs. He tilted his head backwards and yowled loudly with an edge of desperation to his voice.

Tigerclaw's eyes flew wide open. He slammed his paws into the tom’s throat to cut off his cry, but it was too late. He whipped his head around and saw several RiverClanners slipping out of the river. They launched themselves onto the shocked ThunderClan warriors, their dripping jaws locking onto them like vices.

The tabby’s muzzle drew into a furious snarl. Of course these fish-faces would pull such a dirty trick!

He felt a set of claws rake his cheek, snapping him out of his furious thoughts. With a snarl, he turned back to the RiverClan deputy. Oakheart was now free with his back arched and his tail swinging back and forth. But when Tigerclaw tried to retaliate with a hefty blow of his own, his opponent ducked out of reach and disappeared into the battle.

His narrowed amber eyes followed the tom’s movement, but he knew it was better to let him run and direct his attention somewhere else. He dove back into the throng of tussling felines and scanned the battleground with calculated calm for any cat that needed an extra set of claws.

“Help! Help m-” The molly from before’s desperate scream reached his ears. He whipped around and saw her pinned underneath a spiky-furred silver tom with distinctive black stripes. His massive, webbed paw was placed on her throat and his hooked claws dug dangerously close to her windpipe.

The molly writhed under his hold, but his other paw dug into her shoulders. A smirk played along the RiverClanner’s muzzle. He cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Aww, what’sa matter, ThunderClanner? Not so tough now, ain’t’cha?”

Tigerclaw growled before launching himself at the RiverClan tom. The other tom barely had time to turn his head towards his attacker before he was bowled into the ground. Tigerclaw smacked his paws against the tom’s face and clawed his shoulders. The tom yowled in agony, and the large tom took the momentary distraction to catch a glimpse of the small molly.

The pale brown molly’s left shoulder had three deep scratches that oozed blood onto the ground. Part of her right ear was torn off, and her flanks bore a deep bite mark and multiple jagged scratches. She struggled to her paws and blinked gratefully at her clanmates.

Tigerclaw yowled, “Go back to camp, Mousefur!”

Mousefur nodded gratefully at the senior warrior and bolted back to the forest.

Tigerclaw watched the small molly go before he felt a searing pain in his right cheek before sharp teeth latched onto his broad chest. The silver RiverClan tom’s teeth dug into the thick chest fur, and despite Tigerclaw’s bucking and clawing, wouldn’t let go.

He began to see red and snarled. The large tabby slammed chest-first into the rock floor, causing the RiverClan to detach with a wheezing hiss of pain. While distracted, Tigerclaw dug his fangs into the enemy warrior’s shoulder and threw him down into one of the shallow gullies dotted around Sunningrocks.

The silver tabby gave a screech of pain and struggled to his paws. Tigerclaw approached the edge of the gully calmly to observe the enemy. The tom staggered to his paws and glared at his opponent, but instead of throwing himself back up to defeat the burly tabby, he ran off with a hiss.

Tigerclaw snorted disdainfully and flicked an ear. ‘Such weakness.’

He turned around, fully prepared to throw himself onto another RiverClan cat, when he was stopped by ThunderClan’s deputy.

“Tigerclaw!” Redtail yowled. He panted from the strain of fighting and (presumably) running over to meet Tigerclaw. “This battle’s hopeless! We need to cut our losses before it’s too late.”

Tigerclaw hissed in outrage.

“You can’t possibly suggest that we retreat!!” He bared his fangs, “If we give up now, these rocks will belong to those fishfaces! They have enough rocks to feed our cats!”

Redtail’s eyes hardened. “I’m well aware, Tigerclaw.” He stated evenly, “But RiverClan’s warriors far outnumber our own!”

Tigerclaw snarled and drew himself to his full, imposing height, towering over the much smaller deputy. “Your cowardice will cost us, Redtail. If we had this land before winter, we might not have lost so many.”

The calico tom met his clanmate’s eyes aloofly. “Tigerclaw, stand down.” He commanded, “If your pride is too strong to admit defeat, then feel free to die over these rocks. But I’m getting my warriors out of here before we lose anyone else.”

Before the large tabby tom was even given the opportunity to argue, Redtail clambered on a tall rock that overlooked the battleground of squirming, fighting cats.

“Retreat, ThunderClan, retreat!” He yowled into the cold night air. His tail hung low in defeat, but he kept the disappointment from his eyes as he stared at his injured clanmates.

The ThunderClan warriors gaped at their deputy in horror, but they didn’t raise any complaints as they darted back into the woods. A few RiverClan cats gave a half-hearted chase, but by their smug grins, they knew they had won.

As Tigerclaw watched the warriors run, he had to admit that they all looked worn and ragged. Each was covered in several scratches and bites with harried fur.

Nonetheless, he growled at Redtail’s incompetence. The young tom couldn’t even win their land back. He stormed to the edges of the forest but paused as he leaped onto an old, moss covered log to look back at the battlefield.

Despite their own wounds, the RiverClan cats were cheering and whooping at their victory. Many of them recounted their attacks on Tigerclaw’s clanmates and bragged about their prowess.

Perched on a boulder above the crowd was Oakheart, with a proud smile for his warriors. He caught Tigerclaw’s eye and smirked, winking smugly at the enemy warrior.

The massive dark brown tabby’s amber eyes narrowed and snorted in disdain. But he chose to leave it be and follow the scents of his fleeing clanmates, leaping over the log and running off into the night.

...

Later that night, the moon was just beginning to dip down into the horizon, and the first traces of milky daylight were present on the horizon.

In the middle of ThunderClan’s forest lay a shallow, rocky gorge, one that the forest cats called home. An opening through the thick thorn bush barrier led to small, jutting cliffs that acted as a stairway to the camp floor. All around lay tightly woven bushes, burrows, and caves within the rocky walls of the gorge, where the soft snores and mumbles of sleeping cats could be heard.

On the steepest cliff in the camp that overlooked the entire gorge sat a regal blue-gray molly, with a silver muzzle and a long, arching scar on her shoulder. Her head was tilted upward and her narrowed eyes were focused intently on the night sky, almost like she was waiting for something.

But nothing came. The old molly sighed heavily and lowered her head, staring blankly at her paws. Her tail lashed in frustration and her silvery muzzle was drawn into a deep frown.

‘Of all times for StarClan to be silent, why would they choose now?’ She thought. She mulled over the long, harsh winter that had befallen their territory, and the almost comical amount of cats that it claimed along with it. So many kits and warriors had been lost, some from starvation, some to frostbite, and even more to the greencough epidemic that had ravaged their clan. She herself had lost two lives to it.

‘I can only hope spring will be kinder to my clan… although this defeat certainly isn’t a good way to start it off. What should have been a glorious win has now become a shameful defeat…’

“Bluestar?” A soft voice called from a few pawsteps behind her. The molly’s ears swiveled backwards and she lifted her head. A few paces behind her was a petite calico molly, her sleek tail swishing behind her.

“Spottedleaf.” She greeted stiffly. “How is Mousefur?”

Spottedleaf shrugged and padded to sit by Bluestar. “Oh, she’ll be fine. She had a great deal of wounds, but most of them weren’t deep enough to keep her in my den for long.” Spottedleaf explained, “Now if she doesn’t strain herself too hard with hunting or patroling and keeps her wounds clean, she’ll be able to continue her warrior duties.”

“And the others?”

“As long as they also take it easy, they’ll recover as well.”

Bluestar dipped her head. “Thank Spottedleaf. You’re truly a gifted druid.”

The calico chuckled awkwardly and jokingly smacked Bluestar’s shoulder with her tail. “Oh, stop! If this keeps up, my ego will inflate and reach Silverpelt herself!”

She mrrowed at her joke but trailed off as she saw the leader’s head turn back to the stars.

“Stars above, if you keep worrying yourself like this, you’ll go completely gray next winter!” She purred good-naturedly.

Bluestar looked down at her with amusement gleaming in her eyes, although her face remained neutral. “It’s a leader’s job to worry, Spottedleaf. I would expect the same from you, when your charges disobey your orders.”

Her calico companion laughed and replied, “Oh yes, but I remember hearing all sorts of stories of you shrugging off injuries before. You warriors always disobey the poor druid’s orders only to end up right back into my den!”

Bluestar purred, a small smile gracing her muzzle. “Yes, perhaps so. Although I like to think I’ve paid more heed to your warnings in my old age.”

They fell into a somber silence for a bit. Bluestar gazed down at the camp, although from the faraway look in the old leader’s icy eyes, she wasn’t truly seeing the gorge. Spottedleaf frowned but let the silence be.

“Spottedleaf, ThunderClan needs new warriors.” Bluestar murmured. “We’ve lost many lives over the winter. But there’s not enough apprentices, and none of them are ready to become warriors anytime soon…”

The old leader’s tail-tip twitched. “We’ll need to look for outside help.”. She turned to face the young druid and asked, “Have you received any messages from StarClan?”

The young cat slumped over in shame. “I’m afraid not, Bluestar. I haven’t heard a word from them since autumn began…”. Her eyes grew misty and her face screwed up in sadness, “I’m sure Featherwhisker would have found something by now…”

Bluestar blinking, regret burning in her chest; she knew she shouldn’t have brought this up. Her tail draped itself over the much younger molly’s shoulder to comfort her.

Poor kit was grieving for her mentor. He had only died a moon ago, dropping dead from exhaustion as he endlessly cared for sick patients. She’d only been made a full druid a few moons prior, and now she was solely in charge of the clan. Bluestar was frankly surprised she hadn’t cracked under the pressure yet.

‘At the very least, it’s finally spring…’

They fell back into a thick silence, this time choked with grief and tension. Spottedleaf sniffled miserably and Bluestar let her lean on her shoulder.

The druid cast her gaze up to the sky, when her pupils dilated and a gasp tore itself from her throat. She stood, but her legs shook like they would give out at any time. Her hackles were raised and her plumy tail was puffed out like a pinecone. Her eyes held an odd white sheen, giving them a glazed look.

Bluestar’s bewildered gaze settled into a knowing look. She had bore witness to enough druids receiving a vision to know the signs. There wasn’t much she could do beyond waiting however, so she simply stood still and allowed her time.

And then, as if woken from a dream, Spottedleaf jerked awake, her pupils shrinking back to normal. She struggled to catch her breath as the violent shudders slowly but surely died down.

“It was a prophecy.” She murmured. She still seemed shaken by whatever StarClan had shown her and her face grew more serious than usual.

Her leader simply nodded, her tail curling neatly around her paws. “Then tell me about it.”

The calico pursed her lips, seeming to struggle to process whatever vision she saw. “I-I was in the forest, surrounded by a lot of other cats. There was darkness on all sides, and I could hear enemies all around us. There were so many!”. She shuddered in horror. “Then…”. She paused here, a look of amazement entering her eyes and a soft chuckle leaving her mouth, “It was so strange, but a fiery tom emerged from the cats, and chased away all the darkness. But he didn’t burn the forest; no, it seemed like he was protecting it!”

Spottedleaf’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And then I heard the words ‘Fire alone will save our clan’...”

The young molly trailed off, still looking dazed but amazed by this vision. But Bluestar’s hackles were raised and her tail lashed.

“Fire?” She echoed incredulously. Her ears flattened. “But fire doesn’t protect; it destroys!”

Spottedleaf simply shrugged in response. “I suppose, but that’s what StarClan’s message was.”

The regal leader didn’t share her druid’s conviction and stared deeply into her soft amber eyes. But there wasn’t a hint of deceit or uncertainty in her gaze, only faith in their ancestors.

Bluestar blinked and then sighed and shut her eyes. Her shoulders sagged, suddenly looking much older than she really was.

“Then I suppose it’s so.” She murmured tiredly. She opened her eyes once more and stared at the night sky. “Fire alone will save our clan…"