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strelles-universe · 1 year

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Strike the Match - Chapter 8: Growing Concerns

“She’s so thin.”

“I can’t believe any faction would treat an elder like this.”

Cardinalpaw hummed his absent agreement - the return to the barracks had been incredibly slow. Nettleflower’s leg slowed her down and Asterdawn hadn’t seemed inclined to rush her - on the other side, Deerleap was so thin that she had no energy reserves left. By the time they’d made it to the ridge, Lionbelly was just short of outright carrying in her - something she refused to allow to happen even as her legs trembled with every step forward. As for Quietpaw… they’d ended up needing to stop mid-way back, catching a pair of small birds for her after the third time her stomach turned and rumbled loudly enough to be heard.

Upon returning to the barracks, Cardinalpaw had volunteered to ensure the survival of Deerleap (who he wasn’t quite certain would make it through the season) and Nettleflower while Jackdawpaw had eagerly insisted that he could help Quietpaw settle in. As it was, the thin cadet remained curled in on herself; sitting just a little ways from the other cadets who were sprawled around their stump. Now that she’d eaten, she seemed content to just listen to the discussions happening around her.

“Do you think it has anything to do with the invasion on the Galespun?” Cardinalpaw voiced aloud, the thought having rattled around in his brain since the announcement when they returned.

“How bad was it Ravenpaw?” Wrenpaw demanded.

“Awful,” said the lanky tom, flattening his ears. “Everything reeked of the Fennyield - and there were a few cats trying to live in the hollow. We couldn’t smell Galespun anywhere - even in the barracks.”

“They were trying to live in the hollow?” Cardinalpaw echoed.

“Yes but Galespun territory is terrible if you don’t live there. I didn’t see a single stream the whole walk - I bet the Fennyield couldn’t find any water either.”

“And going to the river risks clashes with the Shorerisen,” he murmured to himself, rolling the concept through his head.

“...underground.”

“What was that?” Chaffinchpaw asked as they all turned to the Galespun cadet. The dilute tortoiseshell watching with a cautious expression, as if unsure she wanted to reiterate her point.

“The water. It’s underground,” she explained, ducking down.

“...that explains everything,” Chaffinchpaw said aloud, her tail swishing across the ground. “If the streams are underground… no cat is crazy enough to go looking for water in tunnels with no guide - what if they flood?”

“Didn’t Our Storm say Fennyield territory is muddy?” Cardinalpaw jumped in, springing from her concept. “Wet-grounds would keep Fennyield cats from trying to burrow - the chance it floods is way higher than in the Galespun. And with wet mud, the tunnel entrances could collapse and trap them inside.”

“So if all the water is underground, they’d have to leave,” Chaffinchpaw concluded.

“Which means the Galespun was chased out for nothing,” Wrenpaw scowled.

“Not for nothing - they still got some hunting territory,“ Cardinalpaw pointed out. “And anyway with the Galespun gone, the Stormborn will be their next target. There’s more to gain from invading us - Snakerocks, good hunting territory, above ground streams…”

“Skua Raggedjaw will have a lot to answer for,” Jackdawpaw said, narrowing his eyes. “No way Our Storm will just let him get away with driving off another faction.”

“And may the Souls get him too,” Chaffinchpaw grumbled, tucking her legs beneath herself. “It’s been a tough couple cycles for everyone but no other faction has needed to push another out.”

“They’ll get what they deserve,” scoffed Jackdawpaw, rolling his yellow eyes. “Sure they got territory but Fennyield cats don’t even know how to hunt on the moor - may Slysoul starve them for their greed.”

“Larkwing is worried,” Ravenpaw sighed, glancing towards the clearing. Larkwing had gone into Asterdawn’s den with the rank heads and thus far, none of the cats have come back out since. “The Skua has always been a pain in the tail, aggressive too but he’s so prideful of Fennyield territory… he wouldn’t push another faction out.”

“The Skua may not be the source but he’s their leader,” Jackdawpaw said stubbornly, swishing his tail. “He has to know what his legionaries were doing.”

“...well maybe Raggedjaw isn’t The Skua anymore,” Cardinalpaw said slowly.

“But they would’ve told us and the Galespun if he lost his lives,” Chaffinchpaw said.

“I mean, what if he was overthrown?”

A silence settled over the cadets. Looking around at the faces of his denmates, it was like Cardinalpaw had claimed the sky would rain mud from the clouds themselves. A flicker of confusion passed through him - had it never occurred to anyone else that their leaders could be ousted by the faction itself? He searched his memories - doesn’t the Stormborn have something about deputies standing up to bad leaders?

“But-but what kind of cat would just attack their own leader?” Wrenpaw asked with horror. “And why?”

Cardinalpaw flicked his ear, “Power, a grudge, manipulation tactic - there are a lot of reasons to attack a leader.”

“...but that’s so amber-hearted,” Ravenpaw whispered, pinning his ears back against his head.

“Didn’t Pineheart challenge the Mad Star?” Cardinalpaw asked, half-confused and half-exasperated.

“Yeah but the Mad Star was… you know, mad! He starved his own faction, pitted his cubs against each other, tried to start a war with the Shorerisen and a bunch of other stuff!” Jackdawpaw objected. “Skua Raggedjaw was a dung-head but he wasn’t evil!”

“Well maybe the cat who took over was evil,” Cardinalpaw said with a sigh. “Whoever the Fennyield is following right now was evil enough to attack an entire faction in their the barracks, invaded their dens and attacked elders - he wouldn’t care about ousting a leader to get the position.”

“But leaders have nine lives granted to them by Meadows under Moonsoul’s blessing!”

Wrenpaw shuffled, “...well, what’s nine lives to an entire faction of cats?”

They exchanged uneasy glances.

“You guys were there - did you see if it was Skua Raggedjaw?” Chaffinchpaw demanded of Quietpaw, her voice held a slightly desperate edge. His denmates seemed deeply disturbed by the idea that anyone would attack their own leader like that.

“... I didn’t see anything,” Quietpaw admitted, shuffling with obvious discomfort from the attention being directed to her. “I was too busy trying to get away - they were dragging all the cadets away to do Souls knows what to them. Brownpaw was dragged right from our den by his leg.”

“Temekur watch us,” muttered Ravenpaw. “We’ll only know the truth at the next Gathering. If it’s not Skua Raggedjaw… who’s in charge? His heir was his son - they must have-have taken care of him too…”

“If that’s true, we know why Deerleap and Nettleflower ran away then,” Chaffinchpaw said grimly, flexing her claws. “If Nettleflower tried to defend her leader and failed, she could’ve retreated and maybe Deerleap went away with her?”

“Why run? She’d still be a valued member of the Fennyield,” Cardinalpaw said - the monarchs of the Stormborn were certainly pampered after all.

“The Fennyield has Executioners for certain crimes,” Ravenpaw said grimly, his lessons as a diplomat being displayed at the forefront. “If Raggedjaw lost, then anyone who defended him would have to swear new fealty to the Skua of the Fennyield or be deemed traitors. Treason is an executable offense.”

Cardinalpaw’s muscles twinged, “Flames - we better be on guard then. How many other loyalists have scattered? What if they come looking for them?”

“I am not looking forward to these extra patrols,” Jackdawpaw groaned, stretching his forelegs. “I smell double dawn patrols.”

“Look on the bright side - if the Fennyield does attack and we push them back, we’ll be made legionarys for sure,” Wrenpaw purred and nudged Chaffinchpaw. “Wouldn’t it be cool? We’d get awesome names from defeating the Fennyield - Chaffinchclaw maybe?”

“Or Chaffinchstrike,” she grinned in response, her expression taking on a wistful air. “...dad would love it. He would be the loudest cat in the crowd.”

“...yeah,” Wrenpaw agreed softly, shifting towards her. “He’d be so loud cats would tell him to shut up.”

They shifted into a gentle silence for a moment, no-one willing to disturb the two of them until a loud yowl rang across the clearing. Cardinalpaw sighed to himself, regretting his decision as he turned an irritated look in the direction of the sound.

“You better go feed the bone-bang,” Jackdawpaw teased, turning his ear away from the yowling.

“You’d think she would be nicer since you’re feeding her” Chaffinchpaw grumbled. “Typical Fennyield - no gratitude.”

Cardinalpaw rose to his paws, stretching his front-legs out in front of him as he flexed his toes. Nettleflower’s yowling was a bit rude but Deerleap had eaten most of the rabbit given to them. She’d needed it, the elder was going to need at least a few moons of consistent feeding to put on some healthy weight but Nettleflower had to still be hungry. He trotted over to the ukennva, ignoring the way Longtail attempted to jeer at him from the side-lines and selected a robin. Turning, he headed back to the place the molly had been placed.

As they weren’t exactly prisoners, Asterdawn and the rank heads had all agreed that it wasn’t worth the time and effort to dust off the prisoner’s barracks - especially when they didn’t have enough spare legionarys to guard the place. With Deerleap so old and frail, it was decided that Spottedholly should watch her as she regained her strength out of worry for the high chances that the molly got sick. Nettleflower on the other hand - though still clearly starving - was in much better shaped and as a result, was placed in plain view of the legionaries and elder’s dens so if she tried anything, every fully trained legionary in the barracks could put her down.

Unfortunately, not only did this give her something to prove, it also gave her an audience to prove it to.

Nice as Cardinalpaw was, he wasn’t going to tolerate her bad attitude towards him. So continuing to ignore the taunting of Longtail, he settled a tail-length from her; a paw placed upon the feathered prey and kept it close to his paws. He started grooming his chest pointedly ignoring her when she tried yowling even louder.

“I am not feeding you until you’ve stopped yelling at me,” Cardinalpaw said idly, dragging his tongue across his paw.

“This is humiliating,” she spat at him, her tail lashing. “I may not be a Fennyield cat anymore but I still have my faction!”

“I don’t care about your faction, I’m just here to feed you,” Cardinalpaw said, rolling his eyes.

“Why do you even care - just leave me alone! I’m not so crippled I need to be watched by the likes of you!”

“You aren’t in your territory anymore - you either eat what I bring you or you starve,” he said bluntly.

She stared at him, her ears still pulled back as she flexed and retracted her claws. On one paw, Cardinalpaw knew that whatever it was she went through would make her wary to trust him - especially with being in the center of an enemy the barracks. On the other paw, the shouting and snapping was getting tiresome when he was already drained of energy so he’d like to put an end to this as quickly as possible.

“...fine,” Nettleflower growled, staring down at her paws.

Cardinalpaw tossed her the robin, watching the molly catch it before it could land. The starving queen tore into it the second she could, devouring it like it would return to life and fly away from her. With a swish of his tail, he dipped his head to inspect her injured leg. Spottedholly had patched the bite marks with cobwebs and spread a strong smelling poultice along the leg. The muscle around the limb twitched, but given that she was moving it, it was at least not broken.

Still, I can’t imagine it feels very good, he muses to himself.

He walked to Spottedholly’s den, looking around for the tortoiseshell molly. He didn’t see her so he walked deeper in, poking his head into the overflow den. His guess was proven correct, the mender was working her way through a small collection of herbs with the elderly molly just within reaching distance if necessary. Cardinalpaw chirruped, announcing his presence as he made his way over.

“Did you need something Cardinalpaw?” she asked with a kind, if tired smile.

He nodded, “So - do you have anything for Nettleflower’s leg? It looks like it still hurts.”

“You bit her good kitty,” Deerleap voiced from her nest.

Cardinalpaw glanced at her while Spottedholly rose to her paws, likely to look through her herb storage. From the sleek and shiny patches smeared across her pelt, the elder had more than just starvation at her paws. None of the patches were too large but they were big enough to be spotted easily - not a cut from brambles or thorns but potentially the markings of claws or a rough fall. His ear twitched as Spottedholly returned with a small bundle of herbs in her mouth.

“It’s very kind of you to look out for others - even when they’re not being very nice to you,” Spottedholly told him.

Cardinalpaw ducked his head in sheepish embarrassment, “Yeah well, she needs the help. Although it is getting annoying to hear ‘kitty this’ and ‘kitty that’ every time I was to help.”

Spottedholly paused in her inspection of Deerleap, a slightly conflicted expression crossing her face before pale green eyes fell on him.

“...what is the right word?”

“Huh?” Cardinalpaw blinked.

“What’s the right thing to call you? I’m a faction cat, a Stormborn cat to be specific and you’re…”

“Oh,” said Cardinalpaw a bit surprised. Four moons into his stay with the Stormborn and Spottedholly was the first cat to ask, to seem to care. “...akyeŕai. It means ‘sun born’ - and you guys are akyeedan, faction born.”

Spottedholly nodded, seeming to be absorbing the words, “I’ll be sure to remember that.” She pushed the pouch of herbs towards him adding, “These are poppy seeds - give her a few to ease the pain. Bring it back if she seems like she’s taking too many.”

“Ya anesina,” slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. He couldn’t help it - the warm kindness in her voice despite the exhaustion in her form was just so familiar. He half-expected to look up and be met with golden brown fur and a gentle tail rested across his back.

“What does that mean?” Spottedholly asked as Cardinalpaw slipped around her.

Cardinalpaw paused still within earshot and glanced over his shoulder, “... older sister.”

Cardinalpaw trotted from the den, a sense of faction filling his chest as he committed the spark of joyous delight breaking through the haze of sadness on Spottedholly’s face to memory.

He hoped Mottletail was happy.

| | |

“Here.”

“Thanks Cardinalpaw…”

Cardinalpaw flicked his tail - Nettleflower still insisted on insulting him but lately they seemed half-hearted, as if she was going through the motions rather than truly meaning it. A good thing really - she seemed less and less stressed out with every passing day which would help with her recovery. His paw touched the damp, slightly disheveled moss that made up her nest with a slight frown.

“We should move your nest,” he mused aloud, eyes flitting across the clearing as he tried to decide on a location. “All this water can’t be good for your creaky old bones.”

“I’m not old!” Nettleflower snapped, glaring up at him from the vole she was swallowing.

Cardinalpaw ignored her, instead slowly beginning to shift the nest towards an overhang not far from the nursery. He’d have to replace the moss later anyway, but the new location would do. He wasn’t too worried about the cubs - Asterdawn had claimed Nettleflower was a queen herself so he figured it wasn’t too much of a risk. And besides, as gentle and kind as Brindleface was, the Head Sitter would absolutely shred any cat who so much as coughed at the nursery threateningly. She and the other sitters would likely be quicker than the guards on the defense.

His ears pricked at the sound of innocent giggling and false snarling, an amused expression crossing his face as he watched the cubs scamper about.

“Feel my claws Styrman!” shrieked one of Daisyflower’s cubs. The cinnamon molly lunged forward, tackling her squealing brother.

“Oh no!” wailed her target dramatically, squirming free of her hold. “The Stormborn is too fierce! Retreat Shorerisen!”

‘The Shorerisen (made of Frostfang’s larger cubs)’ started to scramble back towards the nursery on unstable paws. One of them - a little curly furred tom - tripped over his own legs, tumbling head over tail into Nettleflower. The molly jumped reflexively whipping her head around to bare her teeth.

“Watch it!” she snapped.

The tom squeaked in fright and darted over to Cardinalpaw, hiding his face between his legs. Cardinalpaw ducked his head and gentle scooped him up, carrying him back to the nursery where Frostfang had scooped the rest of her cubs up. Cardinalpaw set his bundle down earning a grateful expression. The white furred molly shot a mutinous glare at Nettleflower, pressed her nose to Cardinalpaw’s cheek then vanished into the nursery with her son.

“Daisyflower’s cubs are getting restless,” Cardinalpaw remarked neutrally, returning to Nettleflower. “It’s about time they start shadowing cadets.”

“Just keep them away from me,” Nettleflower mumbled.

Cardinalpaw tilted his head, “Our Storm said you have your own cubs right?”

“...not anymore Cardinalpaw. The Fennyield have not been a good-place for cubs.”

Cardinalpaw frowned at her sad expression and the way she slunk by him, climbing despondently back into her nest. She didn’t even seem to mind that it was still damp from the morning dew. Whatever had chased her from the Fennyield seemed to be catching up to her. He wondered if her cubs had gotten sick or if they were angry with her for siding with Skua Raggedjaw if their theories about a take-over were true. He pressed his cheek to her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her - she’d been annoying, grouchy and an around pain in the tail these last few days but it hurt to see her so saddened.

“Thanks Cardinalpaw,” she sighed, sinking down a bit further into her nest. “I - could you ask Spottedholly for frog-bile? These fleas are killing me.”

Cardinalpaw trilled his affirmative before pulling away, bounding for Spottedholly’s den. This time the long-furred tortoiseshell was in the front clearing, sorting through the various herbs laid out before her paws.

“Sivaŕai Spottedholly,” he called to her in greeting.

She perked up, turning to him as she sounded out, “si-vo-rai Cardinalpaw.”

“Close,” Cardinalpaw encouraged her. “Sivaŕai.”

Since their little discussion about heritage, Spottedholly had taken to learning a few words in Sivake. She was cautious when she first asked, unsure if she was allowed to learn (apparently the faction’s own Old Tongue was only spoken fluently by menders and sacred ranks) but had jumped in all four paws first when it became clear that Cardinalpaw was happy to teach her. It felt good to have someone in his faction so interested in his home and culture before the factions - even better, her efforts had begun to be noticed by his denmates. He’d even caught Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw practicing one night in their nests when they thought he was asleep. Spottedholly was steadily getting better - mostly she seemed to stumble over the purred sounds.

“Sivaŕai,” she recited.

“So-ya!” Cardinalpaw purred to her proudly.

“This is harder than I thought,” she laughed lightly, swishing her thick tail. “It felt easier when I was an cadet. Did you need something Cardinalpaw?”

“Just some mousebile for Nettleflower.”

“The fleas are finally showing themselves hm?” Spottedholly mused, rising to her paws. She led the way back towards the gap in the entry-clearing that Cardinalpaw had deciphered led into the herb storage, returning with another small bag (this one smelling of boar leather). Cardinalpaw wrinkled his nose at the pungent was familiar scent touching his nose - the first time he’d smelled mousebile, he’d been torn between gagging and being delighted at finally recognizing the source of the musky undertone that tangled with the chamomile scent that made the faction’s odor so distinct. “Now remember, you only need a little dab to kill the fleas. Place the moss back in the pouch and return it to me or pass it off to another cadet when you’re done. Then wash your paws in a stream not with your tongue. You’ll be cursing Treesoul to your grave if you try to clean the quick way.”

“Of course,” Cardinalpaw said, giving a dramatic shudder as he remembered Wrenpaw neglecting to heed that suggestion. His denmate had gagged the entire night, refusing to eat before he slept and went on dawn patrol hungry. Cardinalpaw would never do that to himself. “Yekiyai Spottedholly.”

He grasped the strap of the bag between his teeth, darting back out into the barracks. He dodged around a couple cats heading for the gorse tunnel and settled back beside Nettleflower. He took the moss, combing through her tangled mess of curly fur searching for the fleas she mentioned while she stared blankly into the distance. A twinge of concern prickled at him and he made a mental note to mention it to Spottedholly - it had been happening more lately and he thinks it was linked to the poppy seeds. He flexed one of his claw, using the curved edge to cut through some of the thicker tangles that he knew for certain couldn’t be freed with only a rasping tongue. It was tedious but from the gentle sigh she released when he was finally able to reach the base of her fur, he thinks it was worth it.

A slightly chilly breeze broke through his coat and his thoughts turned toward the impending suminahrak.

If the Fennyield situation extended for long enough, Nettleflower and Deerleap would likely have to be moved to the prisoner’s the barracks. It would be the only place that satisfied his factionmates of not letting the two ex-Fennyield mollies linger in vulnerable areas of the barracks while also protecting them from the impending snow-fall. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that; the Prisoner’s Camp wasn’t what Fireheart would consider far but it wasn’t exactly close either. He’d heard older cats talk about snow before and if it was truly as bad as it sounded, it would be harder to deliver herbs to them.

“I think that was the last one,” Nettleflower said, dragging him from his thoughts and back to reality. She stretched a little yawning as she twisted around, sniffing her pelt curiously. “Thanks for that maggotpaws, I can handle the rest. Go do whatever it is you cadets do.”

Cardinalpaw purred his goodbyes to her, allowing the molly to begin finishing the task of grooming her pelt. He was leaving the mender’s den again, ready to head off to one of the many streams that rain through Stormborn territory when he was intercepted by Lionbelly.

“Where are you off to Cardinalpaw?” the golden tom inquired.

“Just cleared Nettleflower’s fleas.”

“Ah, off to the nearest body of water then. I’ll let you go, but please try to find one or two things to add to the stash.”

“The stash?”

Lionbelly flicked his thickly furred tail, “Our Storm refuses to let be chased from our home but the fate of the Galespun means we must then be ready for a siege. If we must spend our time trapped in our own the barracks, the Fennyield will not starve us out.”

“Ah,” said Cardinalpaw. It made sense when it was laid out like that though it felt strange for him to be included in such plans. As the second-youngest prince, he often wasn’t included in war-talk like this. Combat and great kingdom security was reserved for his sisters - even if Ahasra had had to fight for her right to be included, it was very transparently a molly thing. Joining the factions was now putting him in the position of having to know all the stuff his sister had been learning herself. “I’ll bring whatever I can carry.”

Lionbelly gave him an approving nod, dismissing him to dart off from the barracks.

It didn’t take him long to find one of the shallow streams flowing peacefully across the ground. He slipped right in, letting it drench his paws and clean any lingering stench of mousebile from his fur. He dropped to the ground, rolling through the water with a light purr as he soaked himself thoroughly, water dripping from his pelt alongside any lingering moss and dirt from being in the cadet’s den. He sat up, drawing his tongue swiftly across his flanks to dry himself; water rippling around his paws slowly.

He was just stepped out of the stream, coat now fluffy and soft from the proper bath when Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw appeared standing on the ridge above him.

“Uh…” said Ravenpaw, eyes roving over his friend.

“I always thought he was a Shorerisen cat,” Jackdawpaw claimed. “Ever since we talked about Siyeyim - look at his spots!”

Cardinalpaw laughed at Jackdawpaw’s dramatics, walking towards his friends. He flicked some of the water from his paws at them, both of his denmates immediately jumping back with a hiss as Cardinalpaw added, “I was cleaning Nettleflower’s fleas before I came out.”

“Oh mousebile then,” said Ravenpaw with a grimace while Jackdawpaw gagged dramatically behind them. “Good for fleas, terrible for your tongue.”

“You licked it?”

“Wrenpaw dared him,” Jackdawpaw said, snickering. “You were out from a dawn-patrol and we were bored so we were doing stupid dares. He regretted it.”

“It was gross,” Ravenpaw agreed, wrinkling his nose with disdain.

“That was your fault,” Cardinalpaw laughed, earning a shove from his friend.

“So did you get told not to come back without prey too?” Jackdawpaw asked, his fluffy tail curling over itself in thought. “Lionbelly practically pushed me out of the barracks.”

“No in those words but it was implied,” Cardinalpaw admitted.

“Wanna help us then?”

| | |

“Are these are?”

“...dock leaves?”

“Correct - well done Cardinalpaw!”

He purred a little at her praise straightening up. He, Ravenpaw and Jackdawpaw had had a very successful hunting spree. This being the second in only a few days, the hunters had begun jokingly ribbing him about his intentions towards becoming the next head hunter. Jackdawpaw’s words seemed to have held true - with all the rabbits they’d been finding in Stormborn recently, it was unlikely the Fennyield was catching many of them. As it was, all three cadets had dragged one home, draped across their backs with a couple of smaller creatures dangling from their mouths. After being thoroughly praised for their work, Asterdawn had rewarded them with a day off.

Jackdawpaw had gleefully darted off, taking the chance to get a good nap in while Ravenpaw spread his wings as little, choosing to spend time with the slowly settling the Galespun cadets who now insisted on helping their hosts prepare for attack.

Cardinalpaw however had chosen a different route.

With the forest covered in dangers and the understanding that menders can’t be everywhere at once, Stormborn cadets were all taught how to at least recognize most common herbs to be capable of fetching them. They’re even taught how to dress basic wounds to minimize the chances of wounds getting infected before a mender could get to them.

Spottedholly was very patient with him, not getting upset when he confused some herbs with each other; offering small tips and tricks to remembering the minute differences between each of them. She didn’t mind his struggles in remembering what they all did either, just giving him time to think until he could recall for himself and she would praise his efforts anyway. She put the large, slightly rounded green leaves back with the rest of the herbs she planned to leave to dry, grabbing a different collection of small little black seeds.

“Last one,” she said encouragingly.

Cardinalpaw’s ears perked up - he knew these at least.

“Poppy seeds,” he identified, a triumphant note in his tone.

“Correct,” purred Spottedholly. “And they’re for?”

“Dulling pain and encouraging sleep,” Cardinalpaw recited.

“Well done Cardinalpaw,” Spottedholly praised him, turning to set the poppy seeds back into the little pouch she’d poured them from. “You would be a good healer.”

Cardinalpaw’s tail swished as he opened his mouth - he appreciated the praise but being a mender wasn’t in his dreams. Memorizing herbs was one thing but the other aspect - the actual healing part - wasn’t something he was interested in. He planned to say this, attempting to untangle his tongue into a way of communicating his intentions when a hot feeling flooded his body.

His muscles locked up and he found himself frozen in place, a shudder rolling down his spine as he blinked furiously ahead. His eyes darted about in panic, trying to figure out what was happening when a flick of a tail caught his eye. Suddenly released from his equally abrupt petrification, Cardinalpaw whipped around; arching his back in fright. Cats made of shadows - dark and featureless no matter how hard he tried to focus crawled from the ground, charging through the barracks tackling cats make of billowing smoke. Green eyes darted about trying to make sense of the scene - who should he help? Should he help? Was this even a battle he could win?

A distraught scream echoed through the air and he startled, turning with bared teeth towards the sound and reached-

Cardinalpaw’s gaze abruptly focused, a highly concerned Spottedholly staring down at him. His legs felt shaky and weak, like he’d been on a sprint only seconds before. He trembled for a bit longer, his eyes stinging like when he was a cub and rubbed ash on his face by mistake, dropping to the ground; flopping on his side. He squeezed his eyes closed tightly, his stomach rolling in his nausea. He grasped at the ground for a bit as the heat clawing through his body began to cool, returning to his usual temperature.

“That was a vision.”

Cardinalpaw looked up tiredly, his flanks still heaving from exhaustion. He blinked tiredly, slowly trying to climb to his paws; swaying a little as he tried to balance himself.

“What?” he asked her blearily, his mind catching up.

“That was a vision,” the healer repeated delighted, though she pushed a lightly damp ball of moss before his muzzle. He accepted it gratefully, lapping weakly and enjoying a deep sigh of relief at the cool water touching his tongue. “You’re a starseer.”

“A what?” he asked.

“A starseer - a cat naturally attuned to the Souls who speak through them!”

He stared blankly for a moment before he translated the truth of the matter - visions and gods speaking through him?

“By the skies,” he groaned, lashing his tail in annoyance. He’d hoped that after coming to the factions, his odd dreams and feelings would stop. And now, he didn’t even have Ahasra to complain about them to and feel heard when she complained about the chilling feeling she gets at random during the day. “This is supposed to only happen to the ovisha.”

“We have to tell Asterdawn,” Spottedholly said eagerly. “And since you don’t have an official pathway it shouldn’t be too hard to get you reassigned-”

“No!” Cardinalpaw blurted out worried, his exhaustion burning out quickly. “I don’t want to swap!”

Spottedholly looked immediately disappointed, her tail slowly lowering from its position of delighted eagerness.

“...you don’t want to be a mender?” she asked.

Cardinalpaw shuffled a little before sighing, “...not really. Seeing cats in pain makes me feel queasy. And I like training as a guard.”

The tortoiseshell seemed even more disappointed - which made him feel bad - but she nodded reluctantly all the same.

“... I still have to tell Asterdawn,” she sighed, glancing towards the entrance. “Starseers have to be reported. But I won’t make you change tracks if you don’t want to.”

Cardinalpaw sighed in relief, “Thank you Spottedholly.”

She ducked her head down, touching her nose to his with a gentle purr. Tension bled from Cardinalpaw’s body at the confirmation that she wasn’t angry with him - he liked spending time with her. Every day she reminded him more and more of his eldest sister - protective, kind and gentle with a fierce streak that others should be wary of. He would hate for this to have ruined what they had. She opened her eyes and pushed a small pile of herbs towards him.

“Take these,” she insisted. “And then get some rest. We can try to work out whatever you say later - you’re dead on your paws.”

He nodded tiredly and pressed his nose to her shoulder in one last show of thanks before staggering from her den. He yawned loudly, ignoring the chuckling from the cats around him at his display of exhaustion and bee-lined for the cadet’s den. He stumbled to his nest between Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw - already asleep, leaving a place just for him. He stepped inside the gap, curling into Jackdawpaw’s thicker warm coat as his eyes drooped.

He purred to himself when his friend instinctively cuddled closer and fell asleep.

| | |

Kingdom Translations

So | Yes, a sound of affirmation

Akyeŕai | A cat born in the Shining Sun (lit. sun born)

Akyeedan | A cat born into the Soul-Guided, (lit. clan born)

Yekiyai | Thank you

So-ya | Well done, great; a general expression of encouragement (lit. ‘yes yeah’)

Suminahrak | Fall, the harvest season; (lit. harvest peak)

Ovisha | Crown heir, the one who will inherit the throne

Kingdom Culture

Revolt | The (New) Shining Sun was founded on the backs of a rebellion and it feels weird to Cardinalpaw that others wouldn't consider it a viable solution

---

Empire Culture

Amber-Hearted | Referring to the empire god Amberspirit, often referred to as the Savage Side of a legionary; they hold the domains of fear, cruelty, bloodlust and nightmares; amber-hearted refers to a cat corrupted by or acting in accord to Amberspirit’s ways - cruel or violent

Frog-Bile | All of the factions use a different animal's bile to handle the various biting bugs that ail them and it's this difference that gives them their recognizable faction scents.

---

Allegiances | Previous | Next | First

#strelles au #strike the match chapters #strelles ravenpaw #strelles jackdawpaw #strelles quietpaw #strelles chaffinchpaw #strelles cardinalpaw #strelles wrenpaw #strelles nettleflower #strelles spottedholly

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strelles-universe · 11 months

Text

Strike the Match - Chapter 13: Cats of the Fennlands

Cardinalpaw’s eyes opened blearily to the annoyed groans from Wrenpaw and Chaffinchpaw as something rustled loudly out of his line of sight. A yawn broke free from his jaws, the ruddy tom stretching as subtly as he could around Ravenpaw who’d begun shifting as well. He blinked a little, allowing his vision to clear up as green eyes landed on the grinning form of Jackdawpaw even as Chaffinchpaw hissed angrily at him.

“Trample a little louder would you,” she grumbled. “I don’t think the Galespun heard you.”

“Really? My bad,” said Jackdawpaw smirking as he proceeded to stomp loudly on the dead moss and leaves that they hadn’t bothered to sweep from the entrance of the cadet’s den. Wrenpaw snagged a stray pebble from the ground, swatting it directly at the gray tom who stepped neatly out of the way.

“What’s going on?” Cardinalpaw asked through another yawn, saving his friend from being mauled by the combined might of Chaffinchpaw and Quietpaw; who’d begun creeping forward herself. The two mollies had been granted the dubious honor of being on the previous day’s moonpeak patrol after a full day of training.

Jackdawpaw purred, his teasing smile becoming something more genuine; “Brindlewing’s had her cubs.”

Delight blossomed on the faces of his denmates, even Chaffinchpaw’s though the clearly exhausted molly made no motions to get up. Cardinalpaw climbed to his paws with a purr of his own. News of Brindlewing’s pregnancy had reached him rather late - he was actually a bit embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed. For three entire moons, he hadn’t noticed the swelling of her belly or even a change in her scent indicating her status. Even more embarrassing was finding out from his eager mentor that Callastorm had sired them - he and Brindlewing having decided to raise cubs together despite not being mates. At least now he can enjoy and celebrate in the birth of new life.

“I want to see them,” Cardinalpaw insisted, stepping carefully out of his nest with Ravenpaw at his tail. He purred a little, nudging his friend gently as the lanky tom stepped between them. The conversation from the night before clearly still fresh on his mind as he allowed Cardinalpaw and Jackdawpaw to flank him as they moved together towards the nursery.

They made it in time to see Spottedholly slipping into the nursery holding a bundle of herbs delicately between her teeth while Callastorm waited proudly outside, paws kneading the earth in anticipation with Nettleflower at his side. The molly seemed to be giving him an explanation on how to best support Brindlewing while she recovered from the ordeal alongside pointers on handling exceptionally young cubs.

“One at a time,” Callastorm cautioned when he spotted them, nodding kindly towards the nursery. “Brindlewing is very tired, and Our Storm has already sitting with her.”

“Sitting with her?” inquired Jackdawpaw.

“Having cubs is tiring,” Nettleflower rumbled to him. “She’s getting some-cat to stand in for her as Head Sitter until she’s more recovered. Shouldn’t take long - maybe a moon or so.”

Cardinalpaw nodded understandingly, “Have you already seen them?”

“I’ll have a look at them after you lot have. Hopefully Brindlewing kicks everyone out soon - it smells like it’s going to rain and I’ve gotten quite used to not being wet all the time.”

Cardinalpaw chuckled even as he chanced at a glance at the graying sky and the dark cloud slowly drifting over Vrayushu’s flame. He’d smelled the petrichor building in the air when he left the cadet’s den - he hoped it wouldn’t last long. He - like most members of the Shining Sun - wasn’t a huge fan of being wet for any reason that wasn’t cooling off in the heat. He shook his head and turned his attention to the nursery as Ravenpaw slipped into the nursery to greet the newest members of the faction.

A moment later, Asterdawn emerged from the tucked away den; her back brushing against the ceiling as they extracted herself.

“Come and see me when you’re done,” she told him, though her tone made it seem like more of a request.

Cardinalpaw nodded, perking up as Ravenpaw slipped out a moment later; practically skipping towards Jackdawpaw. He chuckled a little - it seemed that seeing the young cubs had been a bit of a boost for him. Slipping into the nursery himself, the ruddy tom’s senses were filled with the smell of fresh milk still clinging to nursing monarchs and the gentle squealing of tell-tale of new cubs. His ears pricked as he looked around - this was the first time he’d entered the nursery after all. Monarchs were incredibly fierce about their freshly kitted litters and no matter how many times they did it, there was always the chance that they lashed out at anyone who wasn’t the sire of their cubs coming to check on them.

There was baby grass growing everywhere, only sporadic collections of older grass towards the edges as if the older grass was deliberately dug out leaving only space for baby grass to grow in instead. His kneaded the spongy softness of the den, his pads approving of the thick bed of moss covering the spaces the grass didn’t. It felt much more like the ash-warmed, smoothed ground of the Sun’s Clearing.

The monarchs were all near the back of the den, the older cubs wrestling and scampering around a decent ways away from soft-furred molly laid in her nest. Brindlewing’s soft gray fur was a ruffled mess, sticking out in all directions and her face was heavy with exhaustion. That said, she was still purring like a storm - he wouldn’t be surprised if the stars themselves could hear it. She waves him over with her tail, letting him pad forward and peer over the side of her nest. Brindlewing shuffled a bit in her nest, revealing four tiny bundles curled closely to her belly.

“We decided to honor his family,” Brindlewing said, and it took Cardinalpaw a moment to realize she was referring to Callastorm. “We didn’t want to do flowers, but trees are similar without being the same.”

She gestured to a small braided molly who appeared to be a carbon copy of her, tiny folded ears with a pink mouth and brightly colored paws. The little molly’s eyes were still mostly squeezed tight though she was much quieter than her siblings.

“This is Wisteria,” Brindlewing said adoringly, love for her cubs flowing from her in waves. She motioned to another cub, very similar in appearance albeit a slightly paler gray than his mother and sister. “And this is Ash. The littlest one is Elder and the one causing a ruckus is Larch.”

Cardinalpaw looked over the tiny cubs with awe - Larch seemed to be the largest of the lot, with strong lungs as he squealed his birth to the world. Elder was the tiniest cub he’d ever seen, pinker than all of his siblings and the only one possessing Callastorm’s mostly white coat. The tiny tom’s toe pads were dark though so Cardinalpaw reasoned he would probably gain color on his legs like he’d seen of some cats of the Sun.

“They’re so small,” he marveled, brushing a bit of moss from Elder’s back. “Especially Elder.”

“He’ll be the fiercest,” Brindlewing purred. “A brilliant hunter or mender. Oh, maybe he’ll be a diplomat.”

“He’s got plenty of time to choose,” Cardinalpaw said, bidding his goodbye to the molly.

He climbed out of the den, giving a firm shake to his coat and moved to the side; allowing Jackdawpaw to dart into the nursery eagerly. He crossed the clearing to Asterdawn’s den, his gaze passing over Tigerslash and Longtail having a low conversation near the legionary’s den. He waited as Larkwing clambered from the den, making a brisk bee-line for the gorse tunnel; ducking out of the barracks.

He climbed in next, his hindclaws kicking off some of the moss as he pulled himself the rest of the way into the den. He gave himself a bit of a shake, dislodging some of the material of entering and exiting dens.

“My Storm?” he called out hesitantly.

“Come in Cardinalpaw - and it’s okay, you can refer to me as merely Asterdawn here.”

He pulled himself the rest of the way into the hollowed tree, discovering quickly that it was thicker than he’d thought. It felt more like stone than a proper tree, like the log had been petrified at some point and the moss growing in the crevices just made it seem like it still consisted of soft-wood. The inside was larger than he thought it was - which felt silly given the fallen tree made the border on this side of the barracks. Looking around, it felt like the entire cadet’s den could fit inside and it occurred to him that though Asterdawn had no living kin beyond Callastorm, the Brastilian’s den was likely meant to shelter the Brastilion, their mate and potentially any cubs or siblings they had. Given how often the rank heads were invited into the den, it also seemed to serve as more than enough space as a private meeting room where cats were least likely to be overheard.

He slowly crept towards the back of the den where Asterdawn laid upon a single smooth stone with moss creeping over the porous gray skin, his paws sinking into the spongy moss growing over the ground. Her deep blue pelt was dappled by the remaining orange rays of sunlight through a small crack within the ceiling of the den, turning her coat copper. Her whisker’s twitched in greeting to her apprentice, the large molly taking a moment to stretch; extending her forelegs and flexing her claws before stepping down.

She flicked her tail motioning for Cardinalpaw to follow her towards what he presumed was her nest, fluffy and condensed together with a half-eaten rabbit and a mouse laying near the thickened far wall.

“Have you eaten?” they inquired.

“No, My Storm.”

Their whiskers twitched in response to the title though she pushed the remains of the rabbit towards him choosing to settle with the mouse. Cardinalpaw almost protested - though he was well on his way to being fully grown, his mentor still towered over him. He couldn’t imagine that little mouse possibly doing anything for her stomach but gave him a pointed look that he’d swiftly learned meant he shouldn’t argue.

She’s stubborn as mom, he thinks to himself fondly.

“And Slysoul we thank you for this prey you have granted us,” Asterdawn intoned, turning her gaze towards the dappled sunlight. “May you know our gratitude for the life it’s given and the fullness in our bellies.”

And may its second flame be brilliant.

For a moment, the two ate in relative silence; Cardinalpaw plucking away at the excess fur from the rabbit, unwilling to choke on the fur in front of his mentor.

“...you fought very well against the Fennyields,” Asterdawn began, making him perk up; pleased that she’d noticed his abilities. “Most cadets find themselves intimidated when encountering elanki in person for the first time. Though most outgrow it eventually, I saw and was told that you confronted the enemy bravely and without hesitation.”

She took a moment to take a large bite of her mouse, allowing Cardinalpaw to bask in her praise for a moment.

“Your skills in hunting and your agility during forest sprints has greatly improved since you’ve started. Callastorm agrees that the remaining flaws in your skills is merely due to a lack of experience you will gain in time. And as your mentor, your sense of battle is unmatched by your denmates.”

He puffed up a bit more, unable to help the pleased purr that rumbled from his chest. It wasn’t like his mentor to hand out so much praise all at once rather than scattered throughout the days with little tips on improvements so he would take it with pride.

She swallowed a bit more of her mouse and just as Cardinalpaw assumed, it was already gone; polished off easily over the course of the conversation. She didn’t seem all that bothered though, their expression taking on a more serious tone even as they swept away the mouse tail.

“Now Cardinalpaw, no mentor is perfect and it’s important for cadets to have a voice in their faction and know that they will be heard,” they said seriously. “That is why towards the end of training, cadets will be questioned and allow their voices to be heard. So Cardinalpaw, speak to me as if my position as your leader was non-existent; is there anything you’d have changed about your training?”

Cardinalpaw stared at her with surprise even as his thoughts shifting to his training. Honestly, he doesn’t have many complaints about his training. She was attentive and noticed when he wasn’t practicing with all his might but instead of getting angry, she usually asked what was wrong first. She could be tough and a bit merciless with her training but he never got the impression that she didn’t care and she was never so harsh that he got injured. All in all, having Asterdawn as a mentor had been nothing short of wonderful.

And also terrifying and stressful, he muses thinking of all the times his heart jumping into his chest at the times she’d been attacked.

“... I can’t really think of anything,” he admitted honestly. “You’ve been a good mentor. The only thing I can think of is you’re really busy and I don’t get to spend as much time with you as the other cadet’s get to with their mentors.”

The molly’s ears twitched a little with embarrassment, “Ah, I’m glad. I’ve been working on being more aware of my cadet’s limits. There was a time that I overlooked that my own stamina is a bit… unusual.”

“You mean you were a worse taskmaster?!”

“Ask Frostfang for the story. She was my cadet before you.”

“...did you apologize to her?”

“Would she let me touch her cubs if I hadn’t?”

Cardinalpaw chuckled, feeling a bit relieved at that notion. It was kind of a shock to know that this was the mellow version of his mentor who took a cadet’s limits into account. Though he supposes that explains how she always knows just when his body would break and pushes him along that border without forcing him to cross it. Spottedholly’s pointed warnings directed towards her suddenly made a lore more sense as well.

Frostfang must be the scariest crafter in the faction.

He opened his mouth to continue the conversation - he didn’t have many criticisms for her mentorship - when he was interrupted by a yowl of alarm from the outside.

Asterdawn was already halfway across the room when Cardinalpaw leapt to his paws; clambering out of the den immediately in fright. They sprinted into the central clearing where Spottedholly was standing. The starmender’s right ear had been shredded, like someone tried to grab her and blood drizzled down her face from claw marks on her cheek and a ragged bite on her throat. She shook her head, sending drops of blood sappling the ground as Nettleflower came forth; dragging a matted mess of brown fur in front of them.

“Fenns,” Spottedholly rasped, the wound to her throat clearly stinging. “They came in through the back - tried to kill me!”

“Frostfang’s kits are gone,” Nettleflower snarled. The old sitter hadn’t been spared either, blood was dripping into her face from claws that tore through the odd-ridges Fenn cats had above eyes like ears. She possessed a similar bite on her throat, shallower like the attacker hadn’t gotten as good of a grip, but her shoulders were bleeding as well. Held down most likely - the Fenns had intended to silence them both. “We were ambushed!”

“Thrushpelt, Nadderpelt, Cedarfur search the nursery for a trail,” Callastorm ordered immediately, the cats in question jumping into action.

Cardinalpaw for his part turned his attention to Nettleflower, as a memory that he’d mostly discarded clawed its way back to the front of his mind.

“You said the Fennyield wasn’t a safe place for cubs - why are they stealing ours?”

The molly froze, an expression of pain and mourning flashing across her face even as the other residents of the nursery turned their interrogative looks on her. It was Deerleap who stepped in, striding forward to sit beside her friend with a reassuring expression. She rested her tail over Nettleflower’s before turning her serious gaze to Asterdawn’s.

“Because Viperclaw is the worst thing to happen to our faction,” the elderly molly spat. “He’s shredded the Order like moss beneath his paws. He makes cubs into cadets at only three moons old, he trains them from sunrise to sunset and makes no exceptions for their bodies. So many cubs have died from exhaustion… from being overworked by him!”

She shook her head in defeated disgust, “And the ones not killed in training die in the pointless battles he sends them out in.”

“He’s sending cubs into battle?” Frsotfang breathed.

“Littlepaw was a cub!” Jackdawpaw shrieked, clearly having had the same doubts that Cardinalpaw had all those moons ago. “And the others probably were too!”

“It’s worse than that,” Deerfoot spat bitterly. “Boarfang was framed for the deaths of three cubs. Viperclaw had her executed in for the murder of cubs that he killed - her own siblings!”

“...Boarfang was your daughter,” Asterdawn said quietly as the faction exploded into outage. Cardinalpaw winced immediately as the pieces slotted into place - her leader murdered her most recent cubs, framed her other cub and had her executed.

“How did you find out?” Cardinalpaw asked.

“She came to me in a dream,” Nettleflower breathed, pain clear in her movements.

“I didn’t believe her at first,” Deerfoot admitted freely. “I’d never thought Boarfang would ever harm a cub, but a dream felt far-fetched for a non-starmender. But then… Clawedears talked about it.”

She spat on the mangy tom’s corpse in anger.

“Said that they were weak and asked if there were other cubs who needed culling,” Deerfoot growled angrily. “And then… I knew. It was a moonless night - Boarfang had come to clear her name to her mother.”

“... Aspenwind, Pollendance reinforce the nursery,” Asterdawn commanded after a moment of thought, her tail lashing furiously as her hackles raised in anger. “Tigerslash and Volewhisker, fan out and search the immediate area for more Fenns lying in wait. They may be waiting for us to go after Frostfang’s cubs to come after Brindlewing’s or Daisyflower’s.”

Tigerslash snarled in fury, the tom already bristled to twice his size as he stormed for the barracks entrance. Volewhisker wasn’t far behind, the usually easy-going tom with a dark expression on his face - it was obvious that any Fenn found would be torn asunder without hesitation or mercy. Aspenwind disengaged from the group of cats, leading Pollendance to the nursery to assess the damage to be repaired.

The Brastilian turned her attention to Swallowflail who gave a firm nod before refocusing on her cadet.

“Cardinalpaw, you’ve trained well. You’re intelligent and skilled with situational assessment. There is nothing more for me to teach you, nor Swallowflail to Jackdawpaw,” she told him. He straightened up at the no-nonsense tone they were taking with him, all too aware of the eyes upon him. “Take Jackdawpaw and scout a way into the Fennyield.”

“Really?” he said, perking up with disbelief. His friend pushed his way to the front, settling beside Cardinalpaw with a serious expression of his own.

“I’ll need Callastorm here to organize a proper patrol when the nursery is repaired,” Asterdawn said curtly. “But there’s rain on the way. I need someone who can be diplomatic and accepting. There must be allies in the Fennyield - cats like Nettleflower and Deerfoot who have suffered at the at Viperclaw’s paws and wish to see him disposed. Consider this your final assessment as cadets - find allies in the Fennyield, or have a plan to take them down when the battle patrol arrives.”

| | |

Cardinalpaw let the way into the nursery, moving past the crafters sizing up the cat-sized hole. Flicking his ear as the first drops of rain began sprinkling the clearing with Jackdawpaw at his tail - they were rapidly running out of time. Jackdawpaw sniffed at the mangled backside of the nursery while Cardinalpaw looked up the damage, slightly impressed that such work had managed to be done without the sitters hearing. He looked at the sheer amount of dirt on the ground, deep clawmarks in the soft soil.

A tunnel, Cardinalpaw realized immediately. A shallow, short one right under the walls of gorse. When the cubs ran to hide themselves in it, they must’ve stumbled in allowing the other Fennyield cats to just scoop them out of the hole and make a break for it. The actual damage to the nursery wall must’ve been done during the scuffle with Spottedholly and Nettleflower. From the bites on their throats, the plan was to kill the ones watching the cubs while everyone was waiting to be allowed back into the nursery.

He released a low growl from his throat - the crafters would notice the damage and hopefully mention it to Asterdawn to be handled.

“Let’s go,” he growled to Jackdawpaw and scrambled from the nursery in the same way the Fennyielders had left.

The scent was rapidly fading in the rain that was beginning to pick up, but there was fur still caught on branches and bushes that would lead them through the forest all the same. Cardinalpaw took the lead, careful to keep his eyes out for anything but with impatient pawsteps all the way. He was so focused on his task, he didn’t notice Ravenpaw until he’d slammed directly into his friend. They tripped over each other released pained yelped, smacking down into the thorns and mud together.

“Ow,” Cardinalpaw groaned. “Got to stop doing that. Ravenpaw what are- what happened?!”

Ravenpaw was panting heavily as he scrambled back, tossing a frightened glance back in the direction he’d come from. His right ear was torn, two tears separating it into three section with similar markings gouged down the size of his head. His shoulder had blood pouring from it and his flanks were matted with blood. He didn’t look any better than Nettleflower or Spottedholly, the lavender-eyed tom now shaking from head to tail.

Jackdawpaw darted forward to support him when his legs gave out beneath him, the lanky tom sobbing into his fur.

“T-tiger- I ran into- he jumped on me and-and-”

“Bastard!” Cardinalpaw snarled, whirling around to glower in the direction his friend had come pelting from. It was only the thought of Frostfang’s kits, so little and likely very afraid, being held hostage in enemy territory; likely being prepared for strict training that kept him from abandoning his task to give the tabby a taste of his own medicine. Cardinalpaw would probably lose - Tigerslash had far more experience and bulk on his side but Skies if it wouldn’t feel good to tear a stripe or four from that tom’s pelt. “We’re out of time! We’ve got to get him out of here.”

Jackdawpaw stared at his paws as water drizzled from his pelt, pooling at his paws in the mud. He looked up, yellow eyes sharp and serious; his claws sinking into the wet soil.

“...send him to your sister,” the dark furred tom said firmly. “Tigerslash would war against the Souls themselves before he set claw in Kingdom territory. It’ll buy us time to find more proof.”

Cardinalpaw immediately jumped on the idea, “Perfect. Ahasra’s usually on the border at night, she sits under the thicker canopy in the rain. If Ravenpaw’s okay with it, she can hide him.”

They turned their gazes to theory shivering friend, who looked even smaller than usual with rain sleek his fur close to his skin.

“W-what if she doesn’t let me stay?” he stammered, shrinking down. “What if he finds me?!”

“Ahasra would never turn away a cat in need,” Cardinalpaw soothed, running his heavy tail over his friend’s back gently. He didn’t know if there were more wounds he couldn’t see but he didn’t want to risk agitating them all the same. He urged his friend back to his paws, watching the lanky tom sway unsteadily for a moment before finding his balance again. They set off determinedly, pushing through the brush and rain not towards the Fennyield but now towards the Neutral Stretch. “And if Tigerslash gets too close, you can just go further. The Caverns are just behind the Shining Sun and merchant groups travel through all the time. Worst come to worst, you can hide in the mountains.”

Ravenpaw looked at him with his lilac eyes shimmering with a series of warring emotions, gratitude pushing its way to the forefront. He purred so hard his body trembled, pressing his face into Jackdawpaw’s neck; looking up at him with soft eyes.

“...what will you tell the faction?” Ravenpaw asked softly.

“You were ambushed,” Jackdawpaw said firmly, planting his paws more firmly on the ground. “Cardinalpaw and I found you when we were crossing the border but they threw you somewhere we couldn’t reach.”

“A sinkspot,” Cardinalpaw input. “Nettleflower complained about those on the marshier side of Fennyield land. Not even the Fenns could get him out - we won’t have to explain not having a body that way.”

Their paws ground to a halt at the edge of The Stretch where the tree canopy became thicker, most of the rain shielded from the ground by the leaves. Sure enough, his sister was laying on her back in the soft earth. She giggled incessantly as she gently batted at the gentle orange light provided by the hearthlights; little firefly like creatures that hovered about at night. She was an adorable sight truly and Cardinalpaw was a bit sad to interrupt her fun.

Still, he released a short, sharp chirp that made her bolt upright. Her pinna wriggles before she turned her attention in their direction. She looked around her likely checking for more empire legionaries or guardians before darting across the edge of the border.

“Sori!” she called out, always happy to see her brother. They quickly pressed their foreheads together making happy crooning noises together before stepping back. “And Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw - nice night!”

“It’s beautiful,” Cardinalpaw said, an apologetic expression on his face. “But it’s been a rough night for us Storms… and now I’ve got a huge favor to ask.”

She tilted her head curiously and Cardinalpaw took the opportunity to divulge a summarized story of what had been happening, drawing up details he’d noticed but hadn’t put much thought into at the time. He explained how Mottletail died, how Ravenpaw saw and the way Tigerslash reacted. Cardinalpaw watched his sister’s face run through a series of emotions - alarm, rage, sympathy and concern. When he finally got to his favor - asking her to take him in, she blinked gently at the dark furred tom.

“Of course I’ll take him,” she said sincerely. “You’ll be one of the first empire cats to set paw in the Sun’s Clearing since The Raids though.”

Cardinalpaw winced but Ravenpaw just straightened up, a flicker of determination in his eyes.

“I don’t mind,” Ravenpaw said. “A-anything’s better than staying and-and…”

He shuddered.

“You can be an ambassador,” Ahasra said aloud, tilting her head to the sky. “We can say you’re here for complete culture immersion - no contact with your old home until you’ve reached a certain mark.”

“What mark?”

“We’ll think of one. You can just explain the non-secret aspects of faction-life to the kits and some of the tutors. We’ve always appreciated knowledge above all else - everyone’ll overlook things if you’re polite,” Ahasra said.

Ravenpaw’s face lit up.

“I like talking about faction life with Cardinalpaw,” he confessed, his tail slightly higher. “It’s like getting to see my home from completely new eyes.”

Cardinalpaw laughed, “You’ll fit right in with all of the tutors then.”

“I’ll take you to meet kina,” Ahasra told Ravenpaw gently. “Come on now - the sooner we get this sorted out, the sooner you can settle in.”

She nuzzled her brother and turned to pad back towards the kingdom, living her head as the hearthlights flew around her head curiously; likely drawn by her body heat. He watched her, a pang of familiar sadness as the darkened clouds flashed with lightning; illuminating her silver coat - it was like he was leaving for the factions all over again. Except this time he couldn’t identify all of the new markings decorating her silken coat. He sighed to himself as he turned his attention to Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw saying goodbye.

“... I’m going to miss you,” Jackdawpaw said, drawing his tongue across the smaller tom’s shoulder mournfully. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Ravenpaw offered a soft purr of reassurance, “It won’t be forever. I’ll learn so much - and when I come back, we’ll kick his tail together. Guard Captain and Diplomat.”

They stepped back, watching each other before Ravenpaw dipped his head to Cardinalpaw.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say how thankful I am that you’re my friend,” Ravenpaw said sincerely. “You’ve done so much since you joined this faction…”

“Take care of yourself Ravenpaw,” Cardinalpaw told him softly. “I’ve always thought you reminded me of my brother. But now I know… you’re are a little brother now.”

The lanky tom released a choked sound of warmth, darting forward to touch his nose to the bridge of Cardinalpaw’s like Ahasra had done at the Moon’s Fang. Then he backed up, darting up to where Ahasra had waited patiently while he said goodbye. When he caught up, the two cats seemed to talk before moving on, disappearing quickly between the thick stretch of trees. Their friend gone, Cardinalpaw and Jackdawpaw returned to their mission; sprinting back into Stormborn territory towards the Fennyield. No point in trying to find the trail again as the rain poured down round them, soaking through their pelts and washing away any additional evidence.

Cardinalpaw pretended not to notice the way Jackdawpaw’s steps faltered, or the way that he kept glancing behind them as if Ravenpaw would come bounding after him.

| | |

Begrudgingly, Cardinalpaw thanked all the spirits in existence for the practice of forest sprints as this had to be the third time the practice had come in use. The rain created a wall of silver, pelting down against the earth; it splashed up against them alongside the muddy puddles they darted through. If it weren’t for the sprints he wouldn’t be able to recognize a blade of grass. He’d expected the rain to be lighter - the canopy was thick here as well, but Cardinalpaw had come to realize that the gaps between the trees were larger, leaving the leaves unsupported which made it all too easy for the rain to overpower and send it all crashing to the forest floor.

They broke off a bit, searching along the edge of the Deer’s Tail for any sign of the Fennyield cats. They couldn’t find much - just one mostly washed away pawprint that could’ve been from anyone but it was all they had to go on.

“You know,” Jackdawpaw murmured, sliding into the bushes on the Fennyield side of the border. “When I said I’d chase these flea-bitten rats back into their dens, I’d always assumed I’d have a much bigger patrol. With Our Storm and Lionbelly beside me.”

“Scared?”

“Only a beetle-brain wouldn’t be.”

They began sniffing around for other scents desperately, eventually managing to pick up the faintest scent of the trail they’d been following. It was almost gone, but that was fine - it would probably lead them to the Fennyield’s Barracks which was the last place two cadets without firm back-up should be. No, they needed to fan out and see if they could catch any Fenns on their own - without the backing of their faction, they may be more willing to speak their minds. Not to mention it would be easier and safer for the both of them if they went after one on its own - if it attacked, the two of them could more easily defend themselves.

Cardinalpaw hissed as the rain began to hit him harder. Yes the Fennyield was a forest as well but skies, he’d forgotten the part where their territory met the Stormborn’s was primarily pine forest. Evergreens with thin branches and thinner needles that provided absolutely no defense against the aggressive rain soaking them to the bone.

Jackdawpaw nudged him, helping him refocus on the task as the gray tom led them through the brush. He wondered if the gray tom had merely chosen a direction at random or if he had something in mind, it certainly felt like they were just crawling through dense moss and tangled roots and branches. Eventually though, Cardinalpaw managed to pick up the scent of ukennva underneath the smell of rain and needles.

They picked up the pace, less concerned about the sound their paws made as the sky rumbled above with Vrayushu’s fury. Eventually the scent became strong enough they weren’t struggling to catch it, encouraging the two cadets to poke their heads through a section of pushes. It seemed to just be a random patch of territory within the land - not well defended from the elements with water drenched nests and soaked prey laying scattered. Cardinalpaw couldn’t see any good dips to hide in or any hollows to retreat to. The bushes Jackdawpaw and Cardinalpaw hid within made for a good ambush point - thickly leaved preventing anyone was seeing them while they peered through the gaps on their end.

It took him a moment before he finally saw them - soaked, thin looking cats huddled together on what seemed to be the only dry spot in the patch. Their attempt to get out of the rain had failed, the wind blowing the spray directly into their faces leaving them severely and miserable looking.

“Sweetsoul be merciful,” Jackdawpaw whispered as Cardinalpaw was thrown back to the way Deerleap had looked when he’s brought her to camp. “Those are elders!”

Cardinalpaw shook his head in open disgust, standing from the brush with Jackdawpaw behind him. None of these cats were anywhere near a serous enough threat for a serious battle - one molly he was watching seemed a single swipe from breaching the sky and another seemed half-way to doing so on her own. Even their attempt at intimidation, bringing to their paws and hissing at them when they saw the two cadets did nothing more but bring a sensation of pity and rage for the way they were being treated.

A black tom came stalking forward, fur bristled and his thick tail swinging menacingly behind him. Cardinalpaw recognized him immediately from the story of Mouth Fang.

“Nightrattle,” he said, a bit shocked. The tom’s fur had become patchier since he’d last seen him, tangled and matted as if he hadn’t had time to clean it.

“Storms,” the tom hissed, either not recognizing him or too frightened to think straight. “Why are you here? You’re trespassing!”

“We’re trespassing to get our cubs that your legionaries took,” Jackdawpaw said in a testy manner.

Nightrattle recoiled like he’d been struck, dropping his hackles as the other elders all went quiet at the statement.

“... I’m sorry,” he apologized. “We thought… we don’t have them. We’re just monarchs and elders.”

“And monarchs?” Jackdawpaw snarled, his offense dropped immediately. “May Moonsoul yank Viperclaw from this plane by his tail!”

“What a stoat!” Cardinalpaw sneered his agreement. “It’s worse than Nettleflower said!”

“Nettleflower?” Nightrattle perked up, taking a half-step forward in hope. “She’s alive?”

“She’s been granted Sanctuary with Deerfoot with us,” said Jackdawpaw. “Clawedears fought Nettleflower when they last raided our barracks. You didn’t know?”

Nightrattle shook his head, claws sinking into the wet earth, “We don’t get information from our barracks unless we go ourselves. And Viperclaw says any dokeme that can’t contribute claws or numbers isn’t allowed within the camp.”

Cardinalpaw flashed his teeth menacingly, feeling the heat in his chest truly beginning to blaze for the first time since he’d entered the forest.

“As soon as this rain lets up, a Stormborn patrol will charge right over the border and raid the barracks,” Cardinalpaw said, trying to sound as professional Asterdawn usually did. “We were sent away to find allies in the upcoming confrontation to take back our cubs and rid the Fennyield of Viperclaw’s tyranny.”

“I’d love to shove that tom’s dung-stained muzzle into the earth as much as the next cat,” Nightrattle hissed, flexing his claws again. “But no one else in camp will support us. One battle patrol and a bunch of rickety elders can’t take back the barracks. A normal warrior isn’t to raise claw against their Skua who was granted lives at the Moon’s Fang.”

“You’d be protecting the Fennyield from the Souls’ impending wrath,” Jackdawpaw levied. “If you keep letting Viperclaw use their name, you Fenns may be en-route to go the same way as the Lost Faction.”

“He’s doing what?!” a molly demanded, shoving Nightrattle to the side bristling.

“Your Skua Viperclaw has declared his reign is blessed by the Souls himself,” Cardinalpaw said wryly. “He said the Galespun must’ve been dishonorable for him to chase them out and that all he does is the will of Soul themselves.”

There was a terse silence as the elders and monarchs looked between each other, angry expressions dawning upon the faces as the full extent of their leader’s actions weighed upon them. Their rage was palpable in the air and Cardinalpaw turned his gaze to the sky, the cracks of thunder had been growing sparser and sparser as the evening shower began to trickle off.

One molly released a light snarl and looked to Cardinalpaw, “I don’t care what happens - I will remove a Soul-Silencer from the Fennyield if it kills me.”

The rest of the scrawny cats voiced their agreement with rage burning in their eyes. Cardinalpaw grinned an unfriendly grin as lightning illuminated them once more.

| | |

Cardinalpaw resisted the urge to lick off the thick layer of mud smeared across his coat as he leapt out of the bushes in front of the Stormborn patrol. His skin was crawling from the cool sensation as it touched him and he swore to himself that he’d be giving himself a thorough bath at the first opportunity. He understood the action - the scent of the Stormborn was woven through his pelt and with the rain no longer pouring down, it wouldn’t be hard for the faction to identify him. He just wished there was another option that didn’t involve rolling himself through a mud puddle.

He tried to look more in control of himself, straightening up to look at Callastorm and resist the shivering.

The mostly white furred tom dipped his head to him in greeting.

“Did you find any reinforcements?” the lieutenant asked, not sparing any time.

Cardinalpaw nodded, “Viperclaw has kicked all of the elders and monarchs with cubs over three moons out of their barracks. They’re willing to help us overthrow him to stop him from spouting off about the Souls.”

“He kicked outskirted them?” Callastorm said with disgust, the rest of the patrol equally adopting looks of revulsion.

“Yes,” said Cardinalpaw grimly. “Their nests are soaked from the rain and they hunt from themselves now - they can’t enter the camp unless they’re reporting intruders or one of the monarchs gets pregnant again.”

“Beetledung,” Wildheart spits, extending their claws with disgust. “Viperclaw cannot remain the Skua - it’s like he doesn’t even know they’re his factionmates!”

“I’m glad we can agree.”

Nightrattle stalked from the brushed led by Jackdawpaw. Apparently there had been some loners hiding on Fennyield territory - victims of the raiders that had been taken care of. They’d been hunkering down with the outskirted Fenns, keeping low profiles until it was safe to venture out again. As it was, they were willing to help kick out a tyrant who’d been so cruel to the ones kind enough to shelter them.

One of monarchs - a gentle molly named Dawncloud - darted forward with delighted when she saw Nettleflower pushing her way to the front of the battle patrol.

They touched noses together purring loudly with happiness before looking at the Stormborn patrol.

“Two of my cubs died chasing away the Gales,” she explained bitterly. “And my surviving son was made a legionary. We’re barely a faction anymore - we’re just Viperclaw’s rogue band that he uses to bully others.”

“Open attack is our only option,” Cardinalpaw voiced firmly. “Diplomacy would only let us get attacked.”

“You can use me,” Nettleflower said gruffly. She straightened up as all eyes landed on her, setting her jaw fiercely. “Viperclaw would want me executed on sight. If the elders report seeing me, it could draw the elites from their dens - as soon as they’re out, strike hard.”

“We only get one shot at this,” Callastorm addressed the Stormborn patrol. “After this, the Fenns will know we mean business. So either we kick him out now or we settle in for war.”

The battle-patrol snarled their understanding as Callastorm turned to the elders.

“Lead the way.”

| | |

“What is that?” gagged Cricketleap, shaking their head with disgust.

The stood upon a ridge overlooking the Fennyield barracks. It was settled in a bit of a dip, completely surrounded on all sides by trees and vines. This deep in the Fenn’s territory, there was mud and water everywhere leaving the ground damp. The barracks were surrounded by a thick layer of brush woven with thorns that could’ve been a brilliant defense were it not visible decaying leaving unpatched holes tears through the brush. The stench of rotting meat filled the air, smothering the scent of the Fennyield cats hidden within the barracks. Cardinalpaw was getting sick to his stomach from just standing near it - it was all he could do to no retch loudly.

“Scavenger food,” Nightrattled admitted, a scowl on his face as he looked away from the barracks, ashamed of his faction. “Raggedjaw eliminated all ranks but guards and Vierclaw followed in that lead - if you want to eat, you go find prey yourself. We’ll take whatever you can get… even if it’s halfway to rot now.”

Jackdawpaw swallowed back his own gag as quietly as he could, slipping into a place beside the brambles. Cardinalpaw hacked a little as he crouched near a toadstool he was almost certain someone had relieved themself near. He took shallower breaths in a desperate attempt to not take in smells, relieved to see that even Callastorm was doing the same.

“Wait here until the fighting starts,” Nettleflower commanded.

She clambered down the ridge to join the other cats, falling to the center of the group allowing herself to be let into the barracks. The rogues that settled with the outskirted elders gathered on the other side of the ridge, watching from the other entry with their muscles tensed for the attack. The air was tense with anticipation, Cardinalpaw barely restraining from clawing the ground at the risk of getting something vile caught between his claws. It only took a moment before the sound of screeching filled the air.

Cardinalpaw was already charging into the barracks when Callastorm yowled the battle-cry into the air.

He charged into the clearing to see the elders already locked in an intense scuffle with the Fenn’s elites. Despite the frightened and cautious eyes of the cats on the sidelines, none of the others made any attempt to get involved. They tensed when the scuffles came near them but none of them raised a paw towards the invading Stormborn legionaries. Dawncloud was right - the Fennyield were hardly a faction anymore, rather than a collection of frightened cats being ruled by a cruel leader.

Cardinalpaw screeched a little, being reminded that he was in the middle of a battle being tackled by a brown tabby launching himself directly on his back. He rolled immediately, startling his attacker as he knocked him from his back. He dodged a stray paw from another fight, yelping as his attacker then snarled and sank his teeth into his ear. The ruddy tom yelped and whirled around, sinking his teeth directly into the tom’s front leg. The tom shook his paw desperately, trying to dislodge him which only made Cardinalpaw sink his teeth in harsher. Only when the tom finally released a desperate shriek of surrender did he release him, allowing the tom to hobble off into the cloud.

He whipped around when he heard another battle cry, prepared to tackle a new enemy only for his heart to break. He shook his head and jumped back, dodging the flailing attacking from the familiar white fluff-ball. Cardinalpaw lunged forward and grabbed Littlepaw by the scruff, never more aware of the younger tom’s age as he hefted the tom off the field without struggle. He dropped the tiny cadet next to a surprised looking molly who was watching the fight from the sidelines.

“Cardinalpaw?” Littlepaw said hesitantly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Cardinalpaw said sincerely, nudging him further from the battle. “Please, just stay out of this.”

He backed away from the tom, watching cautiously to ensure the smaller cadet stayed on the sidelines before turning to rejoin the battle. He spotted another familiar face but this one he grinned dangerously and threw himself on the back of Scorchedmaw. The russet legionary yelped, his legs buckling under his unexpected weight as Cardinalpaw sank his claws into his shoulders. He sank his teeth into the tom’s ears as Scorchedjaw tried to buck him off, spinning and swiping. After a particularly harsh buck, Cardinalpaw found himself thrown off; enjoying the way his teeth tore through the tom’s ear.

He spat out the bit of the ear in his mouth, levelling the tom with a devilish grin.

“Hogbelly,” the russet tom snarled. “I’m going to enjoy this!”

“Not nearly as much as I will.”

Cardinalpaw dodged to the right as the Fennyield legionary leapt for his tail. He decided to teach him a lesson about targeting his tail as he whirled around, slamming his tail into the tom’s face. The russet tom released a strangled sound of shock as he staggered away from him, shaking his head to recover from the blow dealt to his head. Cardinalpaw didn’t hesitate to take advantage of his disorientation and barreled into the tom, knocking him to the ground. He sank his claws into his shoulders to lock on, attaching tightly to his throat with his teeth. Scorchedmaw kicked and snarled but he couldn’t throw him off, Cardinalpaw took that as the signal to just sink his teeth in deeper; letting the tom’s struggles grow weaker and weaker.

Only when he began to smell actual fear from the aggressive Fennyielder did he finally let go, snapping one last time at the retreating cat’s hindleg.

Cardinalpaw grinned proudly, shaking himself a little as he looked around - the other elites seemed to have already been chased off. The few normal Fennyielders that had hesitantly stepped in to defend their territory had retreated back to the sidelines with light claw marks on their faces though nothing too serious suggesting they’d fought performatively, enough that should Viperclaw survive this ambush they could at least claim to be loyal legionaries.

Smart.

“The fact that you still walk says that Wishsoul wanted me to finish this myself!”

Cardinalpaw whipped around to see one last battle raging strongly - Nettleflower locked in a tight battle with Vipeclaw. The molly’s rage for her lost kits appeared to be fuelling her as she tried to shred the false skua into nothing. Viperclaw shook aggressively, knocking her to the ground before his fangs flashes with the dark miasma of Fennyield elanki.

Nettleflower noticed too, the molly rolling quickly to the to side when he lunged; redirecting to snapping her own teeth into his hindleg. He yelped in pain, reflexively jerking forward before twisting to slam her face with his paw again.

“You could’ve taught my father a thing or two,” Viperclaw sneered, drawing his tongue across a bit of blood trickling down from his lip. “You’ve been harder to kill than that worthless excuse for a tom.”

“What?” snapped Nettleflower with disbelief.

She wasn’t the only one either - Cardinalpaw had gotten the impression that the Fennyield cats hadn’t been all to fond of Skua Raggedjaw. In fact, most of them at had comments that would lead him to believe that they were relieved he was gone. But the revelation that he hadn’t died a natural way, that he’d been murdered sent the previous passive and anxious looking Fennyielders on the side into a sea of quiet anger.

“You said the Gales killed him!” a Fennyielder snarled. “You said it was a Galespun ambush!”

Oh, Cardinalpaw thought to himself. Well, that at least explained why they’d gone along with chasing another faction out.

“My father was a weak-willed tom,” Viperclaw scoffed. “All brawn with none of the brains - he would’ve driven this faction to ruin and shamed the great name of the first Skua Fenn herself!”

“What about Boarfang?” Nettleflower snarled to the approving hisses of her faction. “What did she even do?!”

“Boarfang was too weak to see what must be done!” Viperclaw said, bunching his muscles together. “And The Fennyield has no room for the weak or the foolish!”

He tried to launch himself at Nettleflower but Cardinalpaw had been moving since the speech had begun. He intercepted, slamming directly into the larger tom’s flank like he’d crashed into his factionmates by mistake. This time with the full-force of intentional fury, he sent them both sprawling. Viperclaw recovered quickly as Cardinalpaw rolled to his, teeth bared and his pinna pressed flush against his face in fury.

“Shenhiŕan ,” Cardinalpaw snarled.

“What nonsense are you spewing hogbelly?”

“Kinslayer!” Cardinalpaw helpful translated, slashing at Viperclaw’s face. The false Skua jumped back, lunging for the ruddy tom in turn.

“The wilted must be clipped, or the entire tree dies!” Viperclaw hissed.

Cardinalpaw ducked, letting the tom soar over his head before jumping swiftly to the side when he tried to swing his massive tail into him.

“You only kill kin when they’ve left you no other choice!”

“You’re wasting your breath hogbelly,” Vipersclaw scoffed, pausing to raise his head to the sky. “I am the Skua with lives granted to me under Moonsoul’s Eye! You’ll have to kill me nine times over!”

Cardinalpaw laughed coldly as Nettleflower stalked forward to stand just at his flanks - but it wasn’t just her. From all around the clearing, the Fennyield cats came slinking forward, ears flattened and teeth bared.

“What’s nine lives to an entire faction of pissed off cats?” he retorted.

Viperclaw seemed surprised that his faction was acting against hiim, slowly backing away from Cardinalpaw and Nettleflower as more cats began to join them. Monarchs and legionaries alike with their claws unsheathed approached with malice in their gazes.

“Soul-Silencer!” Nettleflower snarled. “Kinslayer!”

“This isn’t the end,” Viperclaw said hastily, making a bolt for one of the many holes torn open in the tunnel.

The Fennyielder snarled, throwing themselves at him when he came too close. A few cats managed to pile atop him, dragging the disgraced leader to the bottom where they tore and bit at him. Viperclaw was many things but Cardinalpaw could admit that a decent fighter was once of them. He smacked a tom trying to go for his hindleg in the face with his study tail then body-slammed another to the ground. Still, the tuddy tom was viciously pleased to see a pool of blood smeared across the ground as the skua finally managed to scramble into the wider forest from the torn barrier.

“We’ve found the cubs!”

Cardinalpaw turned his head to Jackdawpaw, his friend’s right ear torn with blood seeping through his thick fur but the cadet was still standing strong. Lingering in front of a den Cardinalpaw assumed was the nursery were Frostfang’s cubs.

He sighed in relief, rushing over with the rest of the Stormborn patrol to sniff and nudge the innocent cubs as they reassured his wellness. Cinder released a terrified cry, throwing her tiny self into his chest and burying herself in his fur. He purred gently at her in an at her in an attempt at soothing her.

“Are you hurt?” he asked her worriedly, sniffing for any injures.

She shook her head and hid her face again.

“Cinder’s alright,” he reported. “Just very scared.”

“Singe has a hole in his ear,” Wildheart reported. “It’s very small but it’s bleeding.”

Cardinalpaw watched as the Fennyield medic, Magrovebay darted over to the frightened cubs with a mouthful of herbs. Good - it seemed they’d get treatment before they had to go home.

“Cardinalpaw.”

He glanced up to see Callastorm standing with Nightrattle and Nettleflower, beckoning him over with his tail. He rose gently to his paws, paws grasping Cinder by the scruff when the poor cub refused to be separated from him. He settled next to the three cats, looking between them curiously.

“We can’t thank you enough,” Nightrattle said gratefully. “You’ve helped us rid ourselves of a false leader and allowed us to find out the truth of his death. I am deeply sorry for the trouble our faction has caused you - I’m sure the mother of these cubs is very worried.”

“The Stormborn offers you a moon of peace,” Callastorm said. “Just so you can get back on your paws and be a faction of the Empire again.”

Nightrattle dipped his head in respect, “That is very generous of you. The Fennyield accept your offer most humbly and with gratitude.”

The white furred tom nodded and turned his gaze to Nettleflower expectantly.

The molly looked around at the Fennyield cats mingling with each other, slinking around each other and talking quietly. Some cats were already organizing a patrol while other began to patch the holes in the barrier. Her eyes landed on the Stormborn cats nuzzling their cubs in a soothing fashion, a sad smile dawning on her face.

“I will always be eternally grateful for the kindness and mercy the Stormborn have shown to me,” Nettleflower started. “But the Fennyield need me. Without Viperclaw, we have the chance to prosper once more - as a true faction, not a collection of rogues.”

Callastorm nodded in understanding even as Cardinalpaw winced a little. He’d miss the snappy molly and her attitude but at the very least maybe they’ll still see each other at Peace-Gathers. Nettleflower nodded her head to Cardinalpaw fondly, turning towards a patrol - likely intending to join it.

For his part, Callastorm called the patrol together and nudged Cardinalpaw and Jackdawpaw to the very front. They gave him a surprised look, but the other members of the patrol nodded to them in encouragement and approval. He straightened up, lifting his head in response.

“Alright Stormborn,” Cardinalpaw called. “Let’s go home.”

| | |

Seeing the gorse tunnel was both a massive breath of relief for his sore, aching muscles and also for the little cub hanging from his mouth. He’d been tempted to put her down and check on her a few times - the usually rambunctious and chipper cub had been quiet and still the entire journey back home. So it was a flood of joy for him when Cinder started squirming excitedly, kicking and wiggling in his mouth. He almost dropped her twice before he could adjust his grasp.

“Go ahead Cardinalpaw,” Callastorm laughed, shaking his head kindly. “She’s eager.”

The ruddy tom needed no further encouragement, springing from the top of the ridge and slid down the slope. Tigerslash and Volewhisker perked up upon seeing the cub dangling from his mouth. He didn’t have time to be angry with Tigerslash, instead he slipped into the main clearing and set the eagerly squirming cub down. Immediately she went sprinting across the clearing to a pacing Frostfang sitting with a sympathetic looking Daisyflower.

“Maam!” Cinder wailed, throwing herself into Frostfang’s belly, her siblings not far behind as the rest of the patrol emerged.

“My cubs!” Frostfang cried, dropping down to pull them closer to herself. She dragged her tongue furiously across her cubs’ faces, swapping between which she was giving all of her attention. They purred fiercely at each other, snuggling close to each other adoringly.

“You found them.”

Cardinalpaw turned his head to see Asterdawn trotting over to battle patrol, Thrushheart at her side.

Callastorm dipped his head, “They were hidden away in the nursery. Viperclaw and his loyalists were driven off - none were killed so we’ll have to keep an eye out for them.”

“The Stormborn honors you,” Asterdawn purred, touching her nose to his forehead.

“We should be focusing on the cadets,” Wildheart voiced, drawing attention to himself. “I saw Cardinalpaw fighting like Bravesoul herself was possessing him - and he still stopped one of the cub-cadets from trying to be involved in the fighting.”

“And Jackdawpaw planted himself in front of the cubs,” Cricketleap informed. “Any time a Fenn came anywhere near them, he ripped them to shreds.”

“Well done you both,” Asterdawn praised immediately.

Daisyflower looked curiously among their ranks, “Where’s Nettleflower?”

Cardinalpaw’s pinna rippled, “She said the Fennyield needed her help to rebuild and recover from Viperclaw’s reign.”

The monarchs and sitters all exchanged disappointed expression with each other.

Daisyflower sighed, “I suppose that’s the noble and respectable thing to do… perhaps we’ll see her at a Peace-Gather in the future. I’ll go tell Deerfoot.”

“I promised the Fennyield a moon of peace as they rebuild,” Callastorm informed their leader, his ear flicking a little. “If that’s alright…”

“It’s perfectly acceptable Callastorm,” they reassured him. “We shall honor your offer - the Stormborn has no quarrel with the remains of the Fennlands. Only that twisted tom that was once their leader.”

She seemed like she was going to say more but a harried Larkwing pushed his way through the crowd. His fur was sticking out in every direction and he was smeared with mud as if he’d been out in the forest for the entire storm.

“Did any of you see Ravenpaw?” he asked desperately. “I haven’t seen him since I sent him back to the barracks - Wrenpaw says he never came back!”

The battle patrol looked among them, even as Jackdawpaw and Cardinalpaw slumped a bit together. It took a moment before eyes drifted to the two of them, the cadets leaning against each other for support even as their factionmates slowly adopted expressions of alarm.

“He’s… gone,” Jackdawpaw whispered and Cardinalpaw knew the grief in his voice was as real as the exhaustion in his own bones.

“He must’ve been ambushed,” Cardinalpaw said, channeling his own exhaustion and pain from the battle and the goodbye into his voice. He sank his sore claws into the ground beneath his paws as he continued. “We-we found him not too far in on the marshy side. He was in a sinkspace. We couldn’t get him out if we tried.”

Larkwing released a gutted sound from his throat and dropped to the ground in grief as his sister, Acornleap wove her way over to comfort him.

“We were… too late?” Longtail rasped.

Cardinalpaw looked up at the arrogant tabby and for the first time, he saw something other than cocky confidence. He saw grief and guilt swirling together on the tabby’s face, likely regretting the way he treated his little brother before he ‘died.’ Wrenpaw slunk over, seemingly in shock as he plopped down against his elder brother who blankly wrapped his tail around him. Cardinalpaw felt a pang of sadness for the tom - Wrenpaw had already lost his mentor in Mottletail and he’d been informed that their mother had died kitting them. His poor friend probably never felt more alone than he did today.

Maybe Longtail will be a better brother now, Cardinalpaw thought to himself hopefully. Perhaps the lanky sandy tom will look out for Wrenpaw, the two of them bonding - and when Ravenpaw returned; he had a brother more willing to accept him for who he is.

“I- it is a tragedy to lose a cat so young,” Asterdawn said quietly into the mourning faction. “Even crueler still for us not to have a body to dress, and so close to his promotion.”

Larkwing made another strangled noise of pain and Cardinalpaw couldn’t help the sensation of guilt that panged through his chest. Hopefully when the truth of everything came out the diplomat would understand why they had to lie.

“As we mourn, there is a ceremony to be held - one as important for Ravenpaw as it is the cadets standing before us.”

The Brastilian turned and padded slowly to the Highrock, clambering to the peak overlooking the faction. It wasn’t until Callastorm nudged him towards the base of the Highrock that he realized what was happening. He and Jackdawpaw slowly climbed the Highrock, occasionally glancing down at their factionmates before they settled just a tail-length away from their leader in full view of the faction.

“I call upon the Souls around me to peer upon these two cadets,” the molly began strongly. “They have trained hard to know your values and learn our ways and we judge them to be ready for their proper names.”

She turned her gaze to the two cadets.

“Cardinalpaw and Jackdawpaw, do you swear to protect this faction from all who would do it harm? To stick with it through surplus and famine? To embody the spirit of what makes a Storm, even should it cost you your life?”

“I do,” Cardinalpaw said firmly with his best friend.

“Then step forward and accept your new names.”

Cardinalpaw allowed Jackdawpaw to move forward first - if there was a special tradition or ritual, he would much rather not mess up in front of the entire faction.

“Jackdawpaw from this moment on, you will be known as Jackdawstripe - the Souls honor your bravery and loyalty and I am proud to welcome you as a true legionary of the Stormborn.”

His friend moved forward, allowing Asterdawn to rest her chin on the top of his head between his ears. Jackdawstripe then licked her shoulder, giving a little bit of a shudder before stepping back to rejoin Cardinalpaw.

“Cardinalpaw from this moment on, you will be known as Cardinalfire - the Souls honor your endless courage and passion in an unfamiliar place and I am proud to welcome you as a true legionary of the Stormborn.”

Cardinalfire quickly darted forward to replicate Jackdawstripe’s action. He felt her chin touch the space between his ears and he immediately licked her shoulder. He shuddered in surprise himself as a sharp feeling like lightning ripped through his body, slowly dying back down to a quiet buzz in the back of his head. He blinked a bit surprised, his heart felt like it was humming - was this how the entire faction felt all the time?

“Well done Cardinalfire,” Asterdawn whispered to him, pressing her nose to his cheek kindly.

Still, the ceremony wasn’t over. She stepped back to the edge of the highrock, overlooking the faction itself once more.

“Oh dear Moonsoul who welcomes a spirit and Sukahur who ushers them, I beg of you to allow Ravenpaw to hear us; to stand before us as well,” Asterdawn announced. “Though we mourn his loss and will miss him dearly, we know he will enter the Meadows as our bravest cadet tonight. Oh cats of the Starlands hear me speak - welcome him not as Ravenpaw but as Ravencroon, a full legionary of the Stormborn full of warmth and kindness!”

She gestured for the two cadets to step towards the edge, carefully leaving space for the missing Ravencroon.

“Jackdawstripe, Cardinalfire and Ravencroon - please turn to face your faction, no longer as cadets but now as trained legionaries!”

Cardinalfire flinched in shock then straightened with delight, his heart bursting with delight as he exchanged a prideful purr with Jackdawstripe as their faction burst into forceful cries of their names, not unlike the Peace-Gather from before. He turned his head to the cats gathered below, Wrenpaw stood with Longtail and Larkwing calling out to the sky; as if telling Ravencroon of his new name, letting him relish in it.

“The both of you will stand guard outside of the gorse tunnel,” Asterdawn informed them. “Spottedholly will bring you herbs to treat your injuries and scratches but first, grab something to eat. It’s going to be a long night.”

They nodded to their leader obediently, climbing down from the Highrock to the kind murmurs of their factionmates. He allowed his friend to lead the way to the ukennva, ready to pick out a mouse or a squirrel to devour while he waited on guard when he was knocked over. He grunted as he thumped onto the ground, releasing an agitated snarl as he clambered back to his paws; glowering at the form of Tigerslash who watched him with a passive expression.

“Watch where you’re walking,” Tigerslash sneered, stalking by him. “You wouldn’t want any accidents.”

Cardinalfire growled with frustration - ready to claw the massive russet tabby but he restrained himself, gnashing her fangs together. A tail rested on his flanks and turned his head to Asterdawn who was staring with narrowed eyes after the Head Guard.

“Get your meal - I assure you, Tigerslash and I will be having a conversation about his behavior,” the Brastilian growled, stalking off after the thick-furred tabby.

Cardinalfire swallowed his agitation, soothing himself with the knowledge that Asterdawn would be handling it for him, but the encounter had brought everything back to the forefront. He would have to tell Ravencroon of his promotion - it would be hard adapting to the loss of him. He’d always had a flash of silver and black on either side of him - first from his siblings, then from Jackdawstripe and Ravencroon. It would be like moving around with a limb for a while but for now, he would adapt. Just as long as it took to handle the Tigerslash problem.

Threatening Ravencroon, blaming him for Lionbelly’s death and murdering Mottletail… the russet tabby had proven he was a serious threat to the faction.

And hadn’t Cardinalfire just swore an oath in front of the entire faction to protect it from those who would do it harm? To stick with them through the hard times and the good? He wasn’t a defenseless, naive tom unable to stand on his own. The rest of the faction trusted him, believed in his abilities - the two cats made of flame from his visions came to mind, burning braising in his chest. Spottedholly said she’d had that vision before herself - something about two cats of fire would be important to the faction and he would have to remain on guard. An ally or an enemy… he wouldn’t be surprised if he had to defend the subject of the Sight from Tigerslash’s violent ambitions.

He took in another sharp breath of the cooling air, flexing his claws determinedly.

Cardinalfire ducked his head, snatching up a pair of mice and began to move towards the gorse tunnel.

Let Tigerslash try - he would set him aflame.

---

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#strike the match chapters #strelles wrenpaw #strelles ravenpaw #strelles ahasra #strelles viperclaw #strelles callastorm #strelles tigerslash #strelles jackdawpaw #strelles nettleflower #strelles nightrattle

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Strike the Match - Chapter 7: The Fennyield Exiles

Cardinalpaw sprung forth, pouncing on the frightened squirrel that made the mistake of revealing itself in an attempt to escape him; killing it swiftly and placing it on the pile he’d begun.

In the two full moons since Mottletail’s death and the follow vigil for their fallen lieutenant, the Stormborn struggled through the thick haze of gift weighing down on their shoulders to move forward. Cardinalpaw felt a bit bad that he wasn’t as affected - his experience with Mottletail amounted to about a moon of contact with him as Wrenpaw’s mentor. He hadn’t been brought to the last two Peace-Gathers but the tension in the air between the Shorerisen and the Stormborn was so taught that the other factions were cautiously staying away. Chaffinchpaw had been gotten banned from the upcoming Games, when she got into a claws unsheathed and teeth bared fight with Rushpaw of the Shorerisen.

The Styrman had made an active attempt at repairing the relationship between the two factions. He had asked Asterdawn to a meeting at The Kirkyard directly after the Games that Chaffinchpaw got banned from with Larkwing and they’d worked out a semi-acceptable deal. The Styrman had claimed that the Shorerisen would be leaving the Suncairn untouched for the rest of the cycle and into the rain-season. He promised that the instigators would be punished for their actions given that they’d gotten two deputies killed in a foolish attempt to claim additional territory without consulting their diplomat or their own leader.

There were mixed feelings about the decree - Asterdawn and the elders all seemed pleased by the deal. They’d certainly not smelled pelt nor fur of any Shore legionaries on their side of the river since and the dawn patrol reported that none of Shore’s patrols so much as heckled them. The younger legionaries - Longtail and Cedarfur were particularly outspoken - didn’t believe the offering to be nearly enough. They believed that The Styrman should allow them to be publicly punished, should be dragged to the Stormborn’s jurisdiction - potentially even changing their names in response to their crimes.

“They got their own lieutenant killed!” Cedarfur had been caught snarling. “Theirs and ours… I hope The Styrman is at least open about what their punishment will be.”

Cardinalpaw was mostly concerned with his denmates.

Chaffinchpaw swung violently through training herself to the ground, studying every minute detail of hunting and memorizing the code as well as she and laying in her nest emotionlessly, staring with unseeing eyes towards the walls of their den and refused to move. Sometimes she refused to eat, refused to drink and had to be fed herbs by Spottedleaf to keep her from losing strength. Callastorm only held half-days of training as of late, giving her the rest of the day to mourn the loss of her father.

Ravenpaw wasn’t much better.

Their friend had always been skittish and jumpy towards the world but after witnessing Mottletail’s demise, the black furred tom saw enemies everywhere. At the first sound of something behind him, he would be off like a hare and it was near impossible to catch up with him. He always stood in a half-ready crouch, the fur on his spine bristled. It had gotten to the point where Spottedleaf now had him on a daily herb combination to handle the overwhelming sense of fear and anxiety that he felt. Wrenpaw tried to help but he was barely holding himself together well enough to assist his brother and Jackdawpaw was always at a loss for words.

They were trying, but the loss was… hard.

Asterdawn took an ember from Chaffinchpaw’s flame.

With the Cult of Havoc causing trouble nearby followed by the death of her trusted lieutenant, the Stormborn leader had upped the intensity of the training for all cadets and ordered all active-duty legionaries to brush up on their defensive skills. It had been a struggle to keep up with her before but now, Cardinalpaw was wondering if she thought he was made of pure energy. She’d built a schedule around his training - every other morning was a dawn-patrol followed by sparring practice and stamina building. The other days were early morning hunting patrols and tracking lessons that were followed up with lectures on faction-culture and the Legionary’s Code; She trained him into the mud - literally in some cases like today where she’d flung him halfway across the clearing while demonstrating how to redirect someone’s pounce.

Cardinalpaw had attempted to spring on her from behind only for the powerful molly to slip just far enough to the side for her to grab his scruff and use the momentum he’d gained to toss him flank first into the stream that ran through the training hollow. It was mostly dry in the warm season leaving nothing but a patch of mud where it’s meant to run, smearing his ruddy coat though admittedly it softened the impact of his landing.

Probably satisfied that she’d bruised both his body and his faction, she’d dismissed him from sparring training and confirmed that he was ready for his first completely solo-hunting mission. His first ever mission where Asterdawn wouldn’t be lurking in the bushes, watching him. This time, he would be fully responsible for all that happened on his hunting patrol and he was being trusted to bring back the things he needed.

He was careful to stay mostly towards the center of Stormborn territory, away from the borders. Deep enough that he could be sure that any non-Stormborn scent he caught was there deliberately, rather than just a creature passing by or inspecting something. Approaching his fourth moon as a cadet, he was starting to get used to living in this stretch of the woods; beginning to see the cats around him as factionmates rather than just calling them ‘the wild cats’ in his head.

Cardinalpaw had stopped by the Neutral Stretch a few times as the moons wore on in an attempt to keep his promise to his sister but he’d yet to see her. He wasn’t surprised - those first few moons as a squire were pretty intense and depending on which rank she chose, Ahasra may not even be spending time in the kingdom lately.

He missed her - Ahasra and the rest of his siblings.

When cats talked about leaving the kingdom for learning journeys, they never mentioned the deep-set homesickness that made his paws pad to a halt when he saw the Neutral Stretch so he could watch the pages train. They never mentioned making up and mistaking Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw for Ahasra and Adihikko for a split second and feeling so deeply alone when his vision cleared and he recognized them. They never mentioned the sheer amount of times he would dream of being home with his family - they weren’t perfect, things were difficult and they were struggling through the loss of his father but they still loved each other.

It still felt odd that his little shadow wasn’t bounding along beside him. Ahasra could be a real pawful sometimes but she’d always been his biggest supporter. When Cardinalpaw - Sori - wanted to try something new, she was the one who didn’t just encourage him but participated to help. When he showed interest in the factions despite the way the kingdom looked at them, she went out of her way to collect stories for her to tell him. She trained with him in secret when his body kept buzzing with excess energy and quietly swapped duties when he needed something that crackled a bit softer than his current task.

The gaping absence of her continuous support was starting to get to him - especially in the face of some cats who’d yet to get over his outsider origins.

Longtail for one still hadn’t apologized for the way he’d spoken to him; sending him nasty looks and going out of his way to avoid Cardinalpaw. He seemed particularly spiteful to have lost their scuffle - which, Cardinalpaw understood there considering Pricklestripe had not shut up harassing the tom about it which would make anyone sour - he seemed to resent that Wrenpaw and Ravenpaw liked spending time with him.

He was however shamelessly delighted to note that Pricklestripe rarely ever dealt with him - sending him a look of dispassioned disgust at the mere sight of him. Fine by him - Pricklestripe always had something to say about him and his heritage. In a way, Cardinalpaw appreciated the open disdain, better than the way some of the elders (Elkear) were nice to his face then whispered nasty remarks as he left.

Really the only thing that bothered him was Tigerslash.

The massive tabby legionary had a problem with everything not-Stormborn. It was like he’d decided that if you weren’t a Stormborn cat, then you weren’t worth the additional effort to acknowledge. Normally Cardinalpaw would take cats like that and count their avoidance of him as a blessing, but this was also the cat who’d saved Ravenpaw’s life. Sure that was just another aspect of faction-life but Cardinalpaw was grateful all the same.

“Try not to think about it too hard,” Jackdawpaw had advised him when it was just the two of them. “I heard that Tigerslash wanted to train Wrenpaw but he had an incident with a Shore cadet so he got passed up. He might just be kicking himself that he’s not getting you or me either.”

Jackdawpaw was kind of right in a way - there was honestly nothing the ruddy tom could do to change Tigerslash’s attitude about him when he hadn’t actually done anything wrong. All it would do is exhaust him as he over-performed for cats who he shouldn’t care about anyway. The cats who mattered - Asterdawn, Callastorm and Lionbelly - they didn’t care that he was from the kingdoms so no one else could say anything about his presence.

Cardinalpaw shook his head, refocusing on the task at paw.

Asterdawn’s assignment for him had been simple - three of prey so long as he had at least two kind. So he couldn’t just catch a triad of mice and call it a day - not he would. Cardinalpaw had things to prove to the neutral part of the faction - the same things his denmates did: that he could be a great legionary. As such, he’d modified it to ‘as much as I can carry in a single trip.’

He was doing well so far - he already had two mice, a sparrow and now a squirrel.

He almost couldn’t believe that he’d had trouble with hunting to begin with - he almost felt like he was back in the kingdoms. The real challenge was the sense of ceremony that revolved around it - now he was expected to thank Slysoul for every catch he made. It hadn’t been a requirement at first - he couldn’t be thanking any gods he didn’t know existed after all - but now that he knew of the Great Nine, he was expected to perform the rituals and recitation around faction-life.

“Continue with your own gods if you wish,” Asterdawn had told a slightly exasperated Cardinalpaw. “I only ask that you respect our Souls and perform your rituals in privacy.”

He supposed that was reasonable enough - he didn’t like being forced to leave the barracks to perform what he would consider basic actions but what could he do? This wasn’t his home and he could respect the rules set up.

“Thank you Slysoul for the skills you graced our kind to catch this prey and Treesoul for their part in providing prey that give their lives for our faction,” Cardinalpaw recited aloud. His mentor had told him that he could say the prayers in his head - especially when doing so would alert someone in the area - but it was easier to remember them when he said them than when he thought them.

Burying his squirrel, Cardinalpaw decided that he’d seek out one last thing before he returned to the barracks. He wanted to keep hunting - it was pretty fun - but not only does prey go bad, overhunting was one of the things Callastorm lectured them about during hunting practices. It wasn’t a topic Cardinalpaw was unfamiliar with either - farmers of the kingdom were chided or penalized for overharvesting herbs or livestock - it would make life harder if the pool for reproduction became too small. A similar concept was enforced here and so Cardinalpaw deemed that one more creature would be enough to show his prowess.

It didn’t take long for him to catch scent of another mouse and track it down. It would’ve been nice for his final prey to be something larger, but beggars can’t be chooser - besides, it would defeat the purpose for his goal. Cardinalpaw kept all of his lessons in mind as he approached: tail low but off the ground with his fins closed, light and gentle steps that wouldn’t shake the earth, slow movements until you could see the prey.

Don’t get too eager, he reminded himself of her words. Impatience led to mistakes and every mistake he made gave his prey one more chance to catch him.

It felt like moons had passed before he was finally close enough to see the creature - small, brown with little rounded ears snuffling through the brush. He shoved down the reflexive impulse to pounce immediately as it entered his line of sight, instead continuing forward to position himself just to the left of it. He pulled himself into a proper crouch, tensing his muscles as his hindquarters wiggled -

The mouse sat up, head whipping around in alarm then began pelting away from him.

Wait what?

Cardinalpaw panicked, springing from his hiding place and extending his claws towards the fleeing rodent. He almost had it, his paws just barely brushing its tail but with what little luck was left to it, the creature vanished into the brush and likely down a mouse-hole.

Cardinalpaw snarled with frustration, slamming his paws on the ground and dredging a thin series of line in the soul. He whipped his head in the direct the mouse had originally looked in fear, searching for whatever had caused him his catch. It didn’t take him long - the beast wasn’t making much effort to hide itself from the swift and fluid sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves. He didn’t even think, his frustration getting the best of him as the creature passed and he immediately pounced on it.

The startled creature yowled as it went down, Cardinalpaw drew his head back ready to tear the fur from its face before he recognized the squirming lump of black fur.

“Ravenpaw?” he said, loosening his grip with surprise.

“Ambush!” his friend shrieked, swiping at his face with outstretched claws.

Cardinalpaw jumped back immediately dodging the frenzied swinging of his bristled friend.

“Ravenpaw!” he called out, dodging another attempt to slam him into the soil. “Ravenpaw, calm down it’s me!”

The lanky tom tried to tackle him again and Cardinalpaw quickly scrambled out of grasp, the other cadet smacking into the ground. He turned quickly to face him again, panting in a defensive position as he analyzed the situation. Cardinalpaw saw the moment his friend recognized him, pausing and lifting his head in confused disbelief.

“Cardinalpaw?” he said hesitantly, his pupils still blown wide. “Why’d you attack me?”

“You were making so much noise I thought you were some kind of beast.”

“And you still attacked?!”

“You scared off my mouse.”

“Your ears are full of water.”

Cardinalpaw laughed at the accusing comment, trotting over to his rumpled friend and nudged his shoulder lightly with his head. This was the brightest he’d seen his denmate in sunrises, his ears pointed forward rather than swiveling around for any sign of an ambush. Ravenpaw nudged him back with a snicker when Cardinalpaw returned it again. They kept shoving each other, putting a little more force into each shove as they laughed to each other before Ravenpaw managed to shove him over completely. Cardinalpaw laughed as rolled over, playfully tacking his friend to initiate a wrestling match. Ravenpaw humored him for a moment, biting gently at his neck and arms before slipping away from him giggling.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” Ravenpaw asked, looking down at the ruddy tom laying on his back.

“Solo-hunting mission - what about you?”

“Heading to the Galespun border,” said Ravenpaw, turning his attention back towards the direction he’d been heading. “The hunters have been trying to follow up on a trading deal but no Galespun patrols have been seen in days. Their border markers have begun to fade too.”

Cardinalpaw hummed in acknowledgement - even before Mottletail’s death, the hunters had been noticing the usually stoic faction had started to get a little aggressive. It had been assumed to be the usual culprit of stress and exhaustion given the hunting parties usually went over near sunset when their tasks were done. But Chaffinchpaw and Wrenpaw had been complaining of not seeing fur nor whisker of any Galespun cats and Callastorm had remarked that they’d become even more scarce since the last Peace-Gather.

“Our Storm is sending Larkwing and I to investigate,” Ravenpaw added when he saw Cardinalpaw watching him. “She’s worried that it could be something really serious that could affect the other factions too. We’re going to seek out one of the escort posts but if there’s no-one there, we’ll go straight to the barracks.”

Cardinalpaw rolled over, a serious look overtaking his place, “You think it could be Havoc’s work?”

“She’s worried it could be - normally we’d send a bigger patrol, but there aren’t enough of us to send a battle patrol and defend the barracks from a possible invasion.”

“The Stormborn really needs more legionaries,” Cardinalpaw sighs to himself.

It was one of the first realizations after that first Peace-Gather he’d attended. He’d paid closer attention to the legionaries in the other patrols when he was dragged along on border patrols, noting the various cadets - both fresh and experienced - the other factions were lugging along. It was a sobering experience to realize that even if the more stubborn members of the Stormborn wanted to kick him out, they simply couldn’t afford to turn away his willing paws.

“Hey,” said Ravenpaw, snapping him from his thoughts. “I can’t stay for too long but I can try to help you make up for your mouse!”

Then her darted forward, leaping right over Cardinalpaw and into the woods. Cardinalpaw laughed and bounded after him, feeling his blood immediately pick up in response to his excitement. If you’d told him past self that he’d be doing sprints on purpose for fun, he’d tell you that you’d gotten smoke in your brain when he finally finished wheezing. But here he was, weaving through the trees and leaping over logs while he raced Ravenpaw, teasing and heckling each other all the way.

They crunched loudly on leaves and snapped branches loudly enough for even the Rising Moon to hear them so he knew he’d have trouble hunting later, but for now, he was having fun. Besides, he’d already fulfilled the criteria of his assignment.

He’d just managed to get ahead when, Ravenpaw released a playful noise and sprung on him. Cardinalpaw laughed as they went rolling down a smaller bank and into a clearing of plants. They wrestled lightly, laughing to themselves as they settled down. Once they’d caught their breath, Cardinalpaw took the time to look around, the scent of pine and mud entering his nose.

He glanced forward and noted the well-trodden path not even a tail-length from him.

“This is the deer trail,” he said, quickly moving a bit further back until he was unambiguously on the Stormborn side of the trail. “We’re on the Fennyield border.”

“Yikes,” said Ravenpaw, quickly scampering back towards him as well. “I didn’t notice we’d come so far.”

“Me either - hopefully that means everything back where my stash was has calmed down though.”

Ravenpaw winced, “Sorry about that.”

Cardinalpaw shook his head, “It’s fine, we had fun.”

“Well, I have to get to the Galespun before Larkwing sends out a search patrol,” Ravenpaw said, turning to begin following the border up towards The Kirkyard. “Good luck on your hunting!”

“Be safe Ravenpaw!” Cardinalpaw called.

He waited for his friend to disappear and then he turned, trotting deeper into Stormborn territory himself.

| | |

Cardinalpaw flopped on his side, more from delight than from exhaustion.

The impromptu sprint had really chased off everything worth catching and he’d ended up needing to circle all the way around before he found anything but he’d finally done it! One of those agitating rabbits that had given him trouble had been his reward for all the weaving and diving it did before finally trapping itself between the roots of a tree and solid, unsullied earth. He thinks it may have been looking for a burrow and potentially misremembering where its tunnel was.

He’d tiredly carried his prized capture back to his cache, dropping it on top before settling in to groom himself and rest his paws.

He twisted around, dragging his tongue across his pelt before he was suddenly slammed into the ground. He released a yelp of shock when this was followed by sharp teeth sinking into his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he heard a cat gasp.

“It’s better than starving - and what if he goes back to his leader?”

Cardinalpaw panicked - he’d heard rumors of cannibals but never once had anyone claimed that there were any in the factions! Even at the height of anti-faction sentiment, it was assumed that they mangled the bodies of creatures they came upon and scattered their pieces throughout their territories. He surged up when the molly tried to sink her teeth into his throat again, sending her staggering. He followed up with a second swipe gouging a series of lines from her cheek, taking a clump of fur with him as he scrambled away with his back arched.

His first thought was that it was a two on one - that he’d been ambushed by a pair of Fennyield legionaries looking to attack the Stormborn, but a closer inspection made him waver on that outlook. The ginger molly he was fighting had a coat so matted he wondered if anyone has ever run their tongue through her thick coat or if she expected it to sort itself out. The second cat - a gray and white molly with cautious light blue eyes - was even less of a threat, her thin-body and frail frame showed each rib in her body. She trembled with every breath in and Cardinalpaw wasn’t entirely convinced that she wouldn’t pass out from blinking too hard.

Still, muted and faint beneath the scent of mud and sickness was pine needles and an odd musk.

The attacking molly seemed alarmed and off-balanced by his observation and lack of outright attack, quickly bristling as her eyes darted around like she was expecting a patrol to burst from the trees.

I wish, Cardinalpaw thought to himself longing for Asterdawn’s intimidating frame as the molly snarled and threw herself at him.

He dodged her, sliding past and let her slam right into a tree earning a light but pained snort from the frailer looking cat. Cardinalpaw glanced towards her, watching her body shake from the effort of the laugh as she sat before a flash of white caught his eye. He turned quickly, the attacking molly’s claws taking on a sharp white glow, coating the top-side like a coating.

Makai? He thought to himself, his senses becoming sharp as he dodged her next lunge. Her claws gouged a series of claw marks into the bark, the acrid scent of burnt wood familiar and homely but also foreign and different in his lung. He bared his teeth in panicked alarm - her claws had sliced through the wood like it was merely soft mud.

The sound of the world was drowned out by the pounding of his heart in his ears as he watched his enemy through critical eyes. He could tell that she was already getting tired, her initial flurry of attacks must’ve used up all of her energy. His eyes flickered towards the frail molly again and back - were they both of such a pitiful state?

She broke his concentration with another charge forward that he attempted to dodge, springing to the right though not quite fast enough. Cardinalpaw snarled in pain as her teeth sank as deeply as they could into his tail, relieved that she didn’t have tusks like his factionmates. He whipped around in retaliation, clawing the other side of her face to force her to release him. When she staggered back from the pain, he lunged for her left hind leg. Her fur tasted as badly as any unwashed pelt coated in mud could but he sank his teeth in any way, only biting harder when she started swiping at his head, only releasing his grip when her blows weakened. He gave one last yank to unbalance her before he scrambled out of claw-reach, prepared to defend himself.

He needn’t have worried.

The second the molly put her leg down in an attempt to catch herself, it buckled and she crumpled to the ground with a pained whimper. She panted as Cardinalpaw observed her, slowly unwinding from his defensive posture.

“Leave her,” the molly said defensively, attempting to push herself back to her paws when Cardinalpaw looked at the fragile old cat again. “I can still fight.”

Cardinalpaw looked her over.

“No you can’t,” he told her. She hissed at him so he walked over and used his tail to lightly smack her injured leg, watching her immediately lose her balance once more with an unimpressed look.

“Leave her be,” the molly insisted when Cardinalpaw walked around her. “She’s just an elder - no threat to you.”

Cardinalpaw gave her a weird look - sure his collar may have confused her regarding his allegiances but did the factions really think they harmed the sick and the weak? Even as she tried to argue with him, he was tasting the sickness radiating from her. It was tangled in her matted coat, sticking tightly to her rib-cage and when she bared her teeth, they were tinted yellow and a few were broken.

I’m never going to eat a rabbit I caught with my own paws, huh? He thought to himself with defeat, padding back towards his fresh-kill pile. At least he’d overcompensated.

The frail molly jumped a little when he dropped the rabbit in front of her, pressing his paw against it to rip the hindleg (and a bit more flesh) from it. He then turned, dropping the severed limb in front of the combative molly.

“Wha-”

“You’re starving aren’t you?”

“...but this is poaching-”

“Look if you don’t want it-”

“Nettleflower, hush,” snapped the frail molly, quickly covering the rest of the rabbit she’d been devouring as if afraid Cardinalpaw would take it from her. He’d never - she clearly needed it more than even the monarchs did and if he took it, he’d go home worrying that he killed her by letting her starve. Fennyield legionary or not, hungry cats should be fed. “Don’t question what Wishsoul offers to you!”

The combative molly - Nettleflower - went quiet, ducking her head to begin picking away at the meal she’d been granted.

Cardinalpaw grimaced at the bad manners on display - chewing with their mouths open, licking up pieces they dropped - but he reminded himself that starving cats don’t need to adhere to specific cleanliness standards. Their hunger was apparent in the way they crunched through their food, swallowing bits of the rabbit that Cardinalpaw had never even once considered eating himself. When ‘Nettleflower’ finished eating, she half-dragged herself to the elderly molly who reflexively hissed at her before settling down. He swallowed his urge to snort when she started to groom her tangled mess of a coat - it would take more than one wash to clean that.

“So what are you both doing so deep in Stormborn territory Fennyield?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Nettleflower spat at him.

“I would,” Cardinalpaw agreed, wrapping his tail around himself. The elderly molly seemed content to ignore the both of them while she polished off the remains of her rabbit, now licking even the flecks of fresh from its bones. “The Stormborn doesn’t like trespassers and you won’t be getting anywhere on that leg.”

“... I’m Deerleap,” the elderly molly answered slowly, the other cat shuffling a little as if to hide her leg.

“You heard my name,” Nettleflower muttered gruffly. “And we’re not Fennyield cats. Not anymore.”

“Exiles or runaways?”

“We left - there’s nothing left for us there.”

Runaways then, Cardinalpaw concluded thoughtfully. Maybe it was connected to whatever was happening in the Galespun? The two territories were close to each other after all - maybe whatever happened to the Galespun was spreading to the Fennyield, forcing cats to leave? He opened his mouth to ask more questions, but his ears picked up the sound of snapping branches and swift paws approaching them.

“Time’s up,” Cardinalpaw remarked aloud, making both mollies stiffen. “I hope you’re done.”

Even as he said this, the patrol emerged from the grass. Asterdawn was at the front with Lionbelly and Larkwing on either side of her, followed by Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw. Cardinalpaw’s nose caught an additional scent though, tilting his head as the bushes rustled. His pinna quivered in disbelief as a moment later, the familiar form of Quietpaw and bigger and leaner than he remembered from a few moons ago - emerged, sitting with her head ducked beside Asterdawn.

“What’s happened here?” Asterdawn demanded, briskly.

“Ex-Fennyield,” Cardinalpaw reported immediately. “She-” he pointed his pinna at Nettleflower “Tried to eat me.”

“Eat you?” Asterdawn said, ears pulling back in disgust.

“She tried,” Cardinalpaw agreed, eying the molly. “Once her leg was too injured for her to leave or anything, I gave the elder most of the rabbit and tore some for Nettleflower.”

“That’s very compassionate of you Cardinalpaw,” Larkwing remarked, looking somewhat pleased. He turned his attention to Asterdawn, “We may get further answers about the Fennyield.”

Deerleap’s eyes narrowed a little, “We’re not Fennyield anymore but we’re not traitors either.”

Quietpaw bared her teeth and shrunk further behind Asterdawn, clearly unwilling to give the Fennyield mollies so much as the wind’s direction. Whatever had happened to her put her on edge, regardless of how old and frail the two mollies appeared. He olive eyes of the tortoiseshell molly, offering a passive blink and earned a small expression of relief.

“Nettleflower and - I recognize this molly,” Asterdawn said, drawing his attention as she looked at Deerleap curiously. She slowly cocked her head, “You’re Deerleap - last I’d heard, you’d retired honorably. And Nettleflower… I’d heard you had kits recently. Why so far from home?”

A mixture of emotions flashed across both cats’ faces, the two ex-Fennyield cats pressing closer to each other, like they were trying to support themselves.

“...not anymore,” Nettleflower murmured hoarsely.

Asterdawn’s sharp glare softened, an expression of empathy crossing her face. She padded forward towards Nettleflower and sniffed her leg, inspecting the injury then began slowly nudging her to her paws.

“Come,” she said, her voice still gentle. “Let’s bring them - all of them - back to the barracks. Souls be with me, I’ve never seen an elder so thin before. Jackdawpaw, Ravenpaw, help Cardinalpaw with his catches.”

Cardinalpaw watched them a bit warily, watching as Lionbelly moved to support Deerleap’s weight then turned his attention to the slightly scattered prey pile, the kills dislodged from the scuffle. Holding a pair of his mice in his mouth, Cardinalpaw trailed along with his friend as they returned to the barracks.

---

Battle Patrol | A larger than usual patrol consisting primarily of guards typically led by the guard head. While skirmishes happen all time no matter the location, battle-patrols are specifically instructed to destroy dens, fresh-kill piles and sometimes herbal reserves. Battle Patrols are usually the first signs of a proper war.

---

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#strelles au #strike the match chapters #strelles ravenpaw #strelles deerleap #strelles universe #fanfiction #fanfic #strelles cardinalpaw #strelles asterdawn #strelles nettleflower #strelles quietpaw

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Strike the Match - Chapter 9: The Mastery Assessment

Cardinalpaw put his paw over his mouth, trying to stop himself from yawning too loud even as his vision blurred in his attempts to focus on Asterdawn. It seemed that vision in Spottedholly’s den had been the trigger for his dreams to become restless again. Every time he started to relax in his nest, his dreams would twist and morph creating monsters and madness that would shake him back into alertness. At first his dreams only featured vague silhouettes, potentially the ones he’d seen from the Sight in Spottedholly’s den.

Then they escalated.

If the dreams from before had left him tired, these left him panicked. Now he was being attacked by shadow figured clawing their way from the ground near the gorse tunnel. He attacks them sometimes, but his claws never seemed to connect, always passing right through the attacker’s body only for their teeth to connect in his skin. A pained wail would ring through his ears, its voice filled with rage tinted grief as a warm flash would encompass him before she would go toppling to the ground. No matter how fast he ran or how many times he twisted, claws would find their way into his shoulder and he’d be slammed to the ground, attacked by another; claws piercing his belly and it stung as the world grew fainter and fainter-

“Are you alright Cardinalpaw?”

He jolted a little, blinking tiredly up at his mentor as she watched him with eyes full of concern. Spottedholly had done as she’d promised and told her about the Sight he’d had and she’d called him into her den that morning. He’d been worried that she would be transferring him after all, that it didn’t matter what he wanted - to his surprise though, she’s asked him gently how he’d felt seeing the vision. She’d let him lean against her and talk about what he’d seen, empathy and sadness poured from her very being and Cardinalpaw wondered what she’d experienced of Sights to be so distressed by his.

“Just tired,” he said honestly. He’d had odd-dreams most of his life and sadly, this wasn’t even the first time he’d been killed in one. He shudders remembering the first dream he’d had of it happening - a flash of teeth and claws, a thick coat of white screaming nonsensical things to him already injured and running, running- he shakes his head again. “Bad dreams. I used to have them a lot but I’ve been so tired from training I guess my brain hasn’t had the energy to make any.”

Asterdawn made a sound of concern in her throat but she nods all the same, “You and your cohort were very busy yesterday so today is a short one. Just one assessment and some rank-specialty training then you may rest.”

“As assessment?” Cardinalpaw asked, perking up.

“Yes,” said Asterdawn. “It’s time for your Foundations Mastery Assessment. You’ve been a cadet for almost four moons now and despite the catch-up you had to do, you’ve advanced well. You should have mastered the basic skills that any legionaries should have - hunting, stalking and defense stances. If you pass, then we will begin to focus on training your elanki.”

“Elanki?” Cardinalpaw said, a bit of his tiredness lifting.

“The powers granted to us by the Mauwas,” Asterdawn purred to him. “When Nettleflower used her claws to attack you, that was her soulspark - unaligned but still very powerful.”

She means makai, Cardinalpaw connected immediately, nodding in understanding to her words. He flexed his paws a little in excitement - makai was usually restricted to Guardians as most cats from the kingdom simply weren’t able to manipulate it. He and his siblings had already received basic training in using it to defend themselves given that they were heirs and assassination attempts were still possible but they’d never really gone beyond learning to sense when someone else with the ability to manipulate it was nearby.

“I’ll get to do that too?” he said, trying to inject some energy into his tone.

“Yes but only if you pass your foundations assessment,” Asterdawn chuckled at him. “Do you remember which rule that was?”

Cardinalpaw quickly starting running through the Legionary’s Charter in his mind, sifting for the correct one. These spontaneous prompts about the Legionary’s Charter were becoming ever-more frequent - it wasn’t even just from Asterdawn; it was the entire faction insisting on it. Everywhere he turned, he was asked to spout rules from the Conventional Regulations at every chance. He’d be insulted if he wasn’t aware that his cohort were being treated the same way - Jackdawpaw complaining just recently about receiving a lecture for forgetting one of the Conventional Regulations again.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Asterdawn said, taking note of his hesitation. “It’s not one of the Conventional Regulations.”

“Oh,” said Cardinalpaw immediately. It was obvious in hindsight, but the random quizzes had a way of making his mind blank from easy questions. “Then um… the Cadet Regulations rule um…”

He thought about it.

“Eight?” he guessed.

“Correct,” said Asterdawn, nodding at him with approval. “Rule 8 - a cadet should not start learning to use their Mauwa-elanki until they’ve mastered the foundational basics.”

Cardinalpaw wondered if he was going to be expected to be capable of reciting each of the Regulations nearly word for word too or if that was something only the leader was expected to do.

“When will the assessment start?” he asks instead.

Asterdawn tilted her head towards the sky, letting her blue eyes find the sun, “At sunpeak. That should be long enough for you to eat and speak with your friends.”

Cardinalpaw nodded determinedly - he would pass this assessment with shining colors.

“We’ll retrieve you when it’s time so don’t fret,” Asterdawn told him, leaning down towards him. “Eat and rest Cardinalpaw.”

He waited for her to press her nose gently to his forehead to dismiss him before he rose and walked towards the ukennva. Another yawn broke from his jaws as he sniffed at the prey, trying to decide what he wanted to eat.

He was settling down with a shrew tucked between his paws (partially motivated by the idea of adding the feathers to his nest), a bleary-eyed Jackdawpaw crawled from the cadet’s den; glowering up at the sky mutinously followed by a yawning, shivering Ravenpaw. His friends spotted him and in a testament to his exhaustion, Jackdawpaw walked right by the ukennva as they flopped down beside him.

“Tell Sunsoul to close her eye,” Jackdawpaw moaned, throwing a paw dramatically across his face. “It’s too early for it to be so bright.”

“You’re up early,” said Ravenpaw, easily ignoring his best-friend with the practice of growing up with him. He ducked his head, drawing his tongue across his chest slowly as he worked the sleepiness from his body. It was nice to see truthfully, Ravenpaw was rarely this calm and relaxed when he was fully awake.

“Dawn patrol,” Cardinalpaw reported, licking blood from his lips as he readjusted his sparrow. “Fennyield are getting bold - if we’re right about Raggedjaw, the new Skua is testing borders.”

“Testing them?” Jackdawpaw said, tilting his head.

“Seeing how far they can go before we respond,” Ravenpaw explained to him, returning his gaze to Cardinalpaw. “Did you see any?”

“No, only smelled them. Our Storm’s going to bring it up at the next Peace-Gather.”

“Good,” said Jackdawpaw firmly, reaching out to steal Cardinalpaw’s shrew. He was batted at in response, the gray tom rolling on his back dramatically in response. “We have enough to worry about already.”

“The Styrman handled the attackers,” Cardinalpaw reminded his friend gently. Jackdawpaw had been part of the dissenting crowd on Ravenpaw’s behalf - not that the ruddy tom blamed him, his friend had been forced to see both himself and Ravenpaw in states of disarray. “They’ve been punished.”

“They ambushed you after we already won,” Jackdawpaw hissed, an uncharacteristic noise from the usually light-hearted tom.

Ravenpaw rested his tail on Jackdawpaw’s back as Cardinalpaw shuffled closer to him, allowing their pelts to brush against each other.

“We’re okay now,” Ravenpaw told him gently. “It was a battle - cats get hurt. It wasn’t honorable but if we held grudges for every ambush, we’d never stop warring.”

Jackdawpaw huffed but leaned into their comfort all the same. They remained silent until Cardinalpaw could feel his friend’s tense muscles relaxing again.

“Enough of the politics,” Cardinalpaw said, flicking his ear. “We have other things to worry about - Our Storm says we have an assessment today.”

“Another assessment?” Ravenpaw yelped, sitting straight up. “Already?”

“Foundations Mastery Assessment,” Cardinalpaw confirmed, another bemused purr rumbling in his chest. “If we pass, we get to work on our elankis.”

“Really?!” Jackdawpaw said, his bad mood completely forgotten in the face of elanki-training.

“Yep.”

“Awesome!” purred Jackdawpaw, kneading the ground. “I’m going to be the fiercest guard when I can train my elanki!”

Ravenpaw glanced towards the cadet’s den, “Maybe we should wake Chaffinchpaw and Wrenpaw so they can eat.”

“Nah, they had moonpeak patrol,” Jackdawpaw told him. “I’ll bring them a couple of robins.”

Cardinalpaw winced in sympathy - if there was a worse patrol to be assigned to than dawn patrol, it was the moonpeak patrol. Especially if you didn’t know beforepaw and used up a lot of energy during the day. He finished off the last of his shrew as Jackdawpaw quickly darted back towards the ukennva, to scoop up the birds as promised. He hummed lightly in satisfaction as Ravenpaw began to tell him about the dream Jackdawpaw had the night before.

| | |

“Your first task will be hunting.”

Cardinalpaw nodded, flexing his claws into the soft bark of the mossy-log he was sitting upon while his mentor stood before him.

“Unlike the Corrections Assessment, there are specific prey you will be seeking,” Asterdawn asserted. “You will need a mouse to prove your quiet paw-steps, a bird to show you’ve learned to move swiftly and either a frog or a minnow to show your willingness to hunt unusual prey to feed your faction in desperate times.”

Cardinalpaw wrinkled his nose - hunting another frog meant he would defintely be pushing through mud again. He mourned his pristine pelt even as he nodded his understanding. His mentor chuckled - clearly she’d chosen frogs specifically to challenge him.

“Additional points can be gained from rare catches such as porcupines, boar piglets and even adders - but be careful. These creatures are extra credit for a reason - all of them can be very dangerous. There is no shame in retreat to prevent yourself from being badly injured or killed.”

Cardinalpaw bobbed his head in understanding - he wouldn’t seek out any of those creatures on purpose anyway. He’d met one cat who’d been skunked when he was younger and swiftly decided he wanted nothing to do with the creatures. As for boar…

He shuddered at the mere idea.

“Your range is from he to the Neutral Stretch,” Asterdawn instructed him. “When you’ve finished your hunt, bring your prey back to the barracks to be distributed by the Head Sitter - then come straight to the Sandy Hollow for the next leg.”

He expressed his agreement then watched as his mentor strode off - not heading back to the barracks but intentionally vanishing so that she could follow him. He waited for her to leave both his eyesight and earshot, licking his paws passively to begin his assessment. Waiting had it own advantages, giving him time to pick up on the prey in the area. The conversation he had with Asterdawn had chased off the creatures closest to them. He lifted his head, opening his mouth to take in all the scents drifting through the air - this was an assessment testing his knowledge of the basic skills after all, he would be doing everything to the letter.

As usual, it didn’t take him long to catch scent of a mouse somewhere in the forest. He took a moment to figure out which direction it was coming from before setting off.

Cardinalpaw forced himself to move slowly, pulling on every lesson he’d had about mice up to this point. It was taking him moons and migrations to reach his quarry but it was better than moving too quickly, stepping too hard and missing the creature in front of Bluestar. It was fairly unnerving how such a large cat was capable of disappearing so thoroughly into the woods, that even his focused tastes of the air caught not the faintest scent of her on his tongue.

He pressed on through the bushes, allowing the leaves to drag across his back. It served a dual purpose - to make it sound like the wind was shaking the trees and to prevent the branches to snag in his fur, yanking at his pelt. He stepped around the fallen leaves, leaping up and shimmying across logs and rocks to minimize as much crunching as he could.

It felt like it took a moon and a half before he could finally see his target - a little brown mouse with small, rounded ears resting on its haunches. It was near completely engrossed in the maple-seed it was clutching in its tiny paws.

Cardinalpaw pushed down his excitement, staying low to the ground. Thus far, everything was in his favor - the wind was blowing towards him, the mouse’s back was towards him and only sporadically looked around as if certain in its safety. He had just entered pouncing distance and was bunching his hind-legs together to strike when the wind changed direction, blowing directly towards the mouse. Firepaw lunged in the same heartbeat that the mouse sat-up in, quickly slamming his paws around the rodent to keep it from charging off into the forest. His teeth connected in its neck and the mouse died instantly.

“Phew,” Cardinalpaw sighed, shaking off the nerves that had blossomed seeming the mouse ready to retreat. Maybe he would get extra points for catching it after the wind changed?

“A bird or a minnow,” Cardinalpaw mused aloud, thinking. Frogs and minnows would admittedly be easier to find than birds - all he had to do was search for a body of water and search the shore-line. They tended to stick to a few specific pools on Stormborn land. If he went for those first, he would be caked in mud longer which would be uncomfortable but could potentially disguise his deep red coat. On the other paw, he would probably be so itchy; he’d scare off any birds he came across.

After a bit more deliberation, he decided to find birds first. He would be too uncomfortable to focus if he let himself be smeared with mud for so long.

Decision made, he pricked his ears; listening for any sound that could indicate a bird - ruffling feathers from preening, flapping wings as one landed, bird-song and the rhythmic tapping on a tree. Birds were noisy creatures whose mere existence made up a large portion of the blissful ambience of the forest and if you followed the sound, you’d find one soon enough.

Before long, he’d found himself on the Neutral Stretch - something that made his pelt prickle with satisfaction. He didn’t know if Asterdawn was being gentle on him by allowing this particular section of territory to be involved in his assessment but he wouldn’t prod a gift-goose in the flank. Wild birds were frequent guests on the stretch, resting in trees and hopping around the ground in search of left-over seeds the gardens discarded.

Sure enough, it only took a moment of slinking around to see a small chickadee eagerly swallowing some of the spilled seed scattered on the ground.

Cardinalpaw immediately dropped into a crouch, creeping forward into the brush. He chattered a series of soft warbling sounds, enticing the creature to look up. He kept chattering, keeping to the pattern he’d heard birds sing of this song as the creature hopped closer and closer to his hiding place. It was cub’s play to lash out quickly, smacking the chickadee to the ground, stunning it. He pulled himself through the bushes to kill it properly.

He twisted around, preparing to bury it only to be abruptly bowled over. Cardinalpaw yelped loudly twisting as he fought back against his attacker. He kept his ears flat against his head, hissing as he swiped at his attacker’s face.

The ambush ended as quickly as it started, the attacker immediately putting distance between them with a startled, “Hey, calm down it was a tackle! I won’t do it again!”

Cardinalpaw’s ears immediately pricked, hostility dying immediately. He rolled to his paws as the soothing scent of charcoal, ashweed and silvermint touched his nose. Sure enough, he came face to face with a familiar silvery rosetted molly with deep cornflower blue eyes.

“Ahasra!” he called in delight, his tail immediately shooting up in greeting. She purred loudly as he tackled her, licking her forehead and purring hard in turn.

“Hi Soŕi! I saw you hunting so I waited until you caught the chickadee - how’ve you been? I’ve seen you a few times on patrol but I’ve been so busy training and you looked so focused I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Dawn patrols,” he tells her with a chuckle. “The bane of my existence.”

“You look stronger,” she remarked, giving him a once-over with critical eyes. He shivered a little, a little vulnerable to the intensity of her scrutiny now that they’d been apart for so long. He gave his chest a self-conscious lick. “Leaner too… do you even eat there?”

“Of course,” Cardinalpaw chuckled - he understood where she was coming from though. He’d probably burned away the last of his kitten-fat with all of the physical activity he was involved in. “But we spend so much time running through the trees like Taihakida is snapping at our tails that it’s all burned away.”

“Yikes,” his sister winced, pinna pulling back. “I hate running.”

“Ahasra, you run all the time.”

“Doesn’t mean I like it,” Ahasra told him with her whisker’s twitching. “My body always wants to run - hates walking - but I assure you that I hate every second of it.”

He shoved her lightly with his paw, rolling his eyes fondly at her antics.

“So how’s training going?” he inquired. “You look stronger too.”

And she did.

When he’d left his sister, she wasn’t exactly scrawny but a life-time of being forbidden from doing anything too strenuous had shaped her. Her face had been rounder than his and his siblings, her belly a bit plumper and her legs soft - in short; she looked like a slightly taller cub. Now, though her face was still round there was a bit of an angle to it, long slender legs revealed the outline of muscle even through her long fur and when she rolled from beneath him to stretch, he could see the other smaller ones flexing across her back.

He was proud of her - he knew how much work would’ve had to go into her training for her form to have changed like this.

“Training been great,” Ahasra purred. She gestured smugly to a sewn on golden-orange patch on her collar near the tag identifying her as a squire. “I’ve got my first pin already.”

“Really?!” Cardinalpaw gasped, moving forward to inspect it. He purred even harder, pressing his cheek against her. “That’s so blazing ‘hassi! How did makira react?”

She puffed out her chest, fur bristling slightly with excitement as a joy brighter than the day sky twinkled in her eyes, “I’m pretty sure that’s the first time she’s ever been proud of me!”

“I knew you’d get your stripes faster than anyone!” Cardinalfire purred harder, nudging his sister affectionately. “I’m proud of you nipuyu. You’re gonna scorch this world.”

A look of embarrassment crossed her face as Ahasra ducked her head, never very good at handling praise and compliments. She pressed her face into his neck a bit more firmly - it was odd to be the taller one, after spending so long in the Stormborn. He dragged his tongue between her ears gently.

“...yekiyai anasiŕo,” she murmured into his fur. “You’ve always believed in me.”

They took a moment to bask in the warmth of each other’s presence, enjoying being close again. Cardinalpaw breathed in his sister’s scent, missing her even more dearly though she stood beside him. Just looking at her, he felt like he’d missed out on so much of her growing up - it had only been a few moons and yet…

“Well, I’ve got to get back to my assessment,” Cardinalpaw said, reluctantly stepping back. He made sure to memorize her new appearance as best as he could.

“Assessment?” his sister echoed, realization dawning on her face. “You’re in the middle of an assessment? And you stopped to talk to me instead of telling me to screw off?! Sori you ash-brain finish your assessment! We can talk again later!”

He laughed at her scolding tone as hos baby sister darted back to where he’d dropped his chickadee, bringing it back and placing it in front of him.

“Thank you,” he purrs. As much as he cared about his assessment, he’d needed this - his sister was quite a sight for eyes as sore as his. He wished their brother could be there - standing beside her like a shadow but his absence panged in his chest, reminding him that things were different. “Tell the others that I love them and I miss them but I’m happy.”

“And safe?” she prompted.

He chuckles, “As safe as a cat could be around here.”

| | |

“Grooming again Cardinalpaw?”

The ruddy tom glanced up, tongue half out of his mouth paused where it was dragging at the base of his tail. He flicked his ear at the approaching for of Jackdawpaw and chewed at the base of his tail, discarding a thorn and continuing his bath.

“He��s been grooming since he got here,” Chaffinchpaw said rolling her eyes. “At first I thought he was just cleaning the mud, but there’s not been a speck of it in a while.”

“Old habits die hard,” Cardinalpaw grumbled around his fur. As if he’d ever go around looking like an abandoned badger cub when he had a chance to fix it. “Image is important.”

“But you groom so much your fur’s gonna fall out,” Jackdawpaw snorted.

Cardinalpaw stood up, shaking out his mid-length glossy fur allowing it to fluff out a bit. He gave his paws a little shake each, dislodging any dirt that could’ve built up on them; examining them for mud between his paws. Much to his pleasure he was as spotless as if he was still part of the Shining Sun. He would have to find a shallow stream to finish off his scales but for now, he was as clean as he could be.

“If I look bad, it reflects badly on my family,” Cardinalpaw explained to them. He knows he’s a bit more obsessed with his appearance than his factionmates but it had been bred and branded into him. A prince should look put-together no matter how they felt and no matter the circumstances. The lesson had been parroted to him day after day until he and his siblings had sickened from hearing it. “I don’t mind, I like my pelt.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Jackdawpaw grumbled, eying his own coat.

“It is,” Cardinalpaw admitted. “My sister’s fur is longer than mine and she hates grooming it.”

Jackdawpaw shivered, clearly remembering Ahasra’s long, silken coat.

“I’d hate to be her in the warm seasons,” Chaffinchpaw murmured.

“Her fur is silver - she’s fine.”

“That’s cold Cardinalpaw.”

He was interrupted from responding by Ravenpaw bounding down into the Hollow, trotting over to them with his ears flattened to the sides of his head.

“Hey Rave,” Jackdawpaw greeted happily, raising his tail in greeting.

“Hi,” Ravenpaw mumbled, his legs trembling as he sat beside them. He shook his head as if dislodging errant thoughts looking distressed, “I’m going to fail. I missed my shrew.”

“You’re not going to fail from one shrew,” Jackdawpaw soothed, running his tail down the lanky tom’s back. He pressed more closely against him, their pelts brushing reassuringly.

“But I missed!” Ravenpaw hissed. “I waited too long and I saw me and got away!”

“Maybe you’ll get a half-point for knowing what you did wrong,” Chaffinchpaw offered. “Callastorm saying knowing why you failed is half the battle to later success.”

“And Larkwing isn’t heartless,” Cardinalpaw added. “Sometimes even hunters come back with nothing - one missed shrew isn’t the end of the world.”

As Ravenpaw tried to absorb in their reassurances, taking in shaky breaths; Wrenpaw came pelting into the clearing panting. Cardinalpaw glanced at the sky - it was already late in the day, so the brown tabby had been cutting it close.

“I-I’m last?” Wrenpaw panted, looking at his denmates.

“Yeah - Chaffinchpaw was first. As usual,” Cardinalpaw sighed.

Chaffinchpaw just smirked, flexing the claws on her right paw smugly.

“I hope I don’t lose points for being last,” Wrenpaw fretted, sitting down.

“That wasn’t one of the penalties.”

They all glanced up - it seemed their mentors had followed Wrenpaw to the Sandy Hollow. Asterdawn was in the lead with Callastorm, Larkwing, Titfeather and Lionbelly following behind her. Titfeather had been given the responsibility of finishing Wrenpaw’s training in the wake of Mottletail. He was Callastorm’s own cadet before Chaffinchpaw and it showed in the tom’s calm temper and patient disposition. He was so dramatically different from Chaffinchpaw that Cardinalpaw was a little curious as to how much Callastorm must’ve struggled to adapt to Chaffinchpaw’s more aggressive, stubborn demeanor.

“You’ve all done well,” praised Lionbelly, bringing him back to the present. “A few mistakes but that’s to be expected of cadets.”

“You’ll receive your final scores after the sparring portion of this assessment,” Asterdawn informed them. “Now, let’s begin!”

| | |

Cardinalpaw flopped into his nest, stretching out his sore muscles with a sense of satisfied exhaustion. His cohorts followed his lead, stumbling to their own nests yawning and flexing their claws in turn. Quietpaw had taken up residence in their den with them although she’d been excluded from the assessment, Asterdawn had elected to continue their cadetships. The Stormborn didn’t have any ranks that would equate to escorts but Quietpaw had been ushered into the nursery under the gentle guidance of Brindlewing. As it was, the guest cadet had curled up together in a nest they built for themselves; resting as they weren’t used to the Stormborn’s working period.

Gales rarely allowed work to pass into the dark hours, their days beginning as the sun rises and ending as it sets. On the contrary, Storms have their cats split in half with some of them being primed to end their days at noon and others who start their days at dusk. Rarely did they perform official tasks at sunpeak, this period often being considered personal time. The two Gales had been on that morning’s dawn patrol followed up by a hunting patrol.

Though his body ached with bruised from thumping against the ground in both the sparring session and the encounter with his sister, it was laced with the pleasant sensation of a job well-done. Cardinalpaw had ended his assessment with an accumulative 19 points - he’d gotten nine points for the skills and motions he’d displayed during his hunting. He’d then gotten an additional five for the wind changing directions mid-hunt - he’d purred to himself with pleasure when that had been announced. He’d ended up losing a point for stopping to talk to Ahasra - sometimes he took in stride despite the disbelieving expressions from his cohorts and the other mentors when Asterdawn mentioned it - but otherwise, he’d done well.

Then moving into the combat portion of the assessment, he’d earned another three for his battle stance and adaptability.

Chafinchpaw had gotten her full nine hunting points as well, but then, Callastorm levied her with an additional ten for a repeat performance of catching a bird mid-flight - this time, she’d caught two at once. Netting six point in total for her sparring, Chaffinchpaw took the lead as the most successful cadet.

Ravenpaw wasn’t far behind netting 20 points because the lanky tom had neglected to mention that in exchange for missing the shrew, he’d caught an adder. He’d improved more on his style of combat too, the dodging and weaving he’d done being more focused and interspersed with sharp, decisively jabs towards Chaffinchpaw’s rib-cage.

Jackdawpaw lagged behind meeting with Cardinalpaw, he’d caught all three of the necessary prey but was still relying heavily on his strength and size in battles. This ultimately resulted in him losing his spar with Wrenpaw leaving him with 17 points.

“The passing score is ten,” Asterdawn had announced making all of them heave a sigh of relief. “So long as you caught at least two of your assigned prey and showed improvement in battle skills, you would be able to pass. As all of you have met these requirements, I am pleased to announce that all of you are now permitted to move onto rank specialty training.”

“I can’t believe we’re already working on elanki,” Jackdawpaw purred. “I don’t even care that we don’t get to do the cool stuff yet.”

“What do you mean?” Chaffinchpaw inquired.

“Lionbelly already told me we don’t get to use sun-blessed elanki until we have the basics of normal elanki,” the gray tom grumbled, the tip of his tail twitching. Their cohort all groaned in unison, some of the excited energy dying down a little. “At least the unaligned elanki are still cool.”

“And dangerous,” shuddered Cardinalpaw, his mind shooting back to the incident with Nettleflower. “Elanki can melt through wood.”

“Melted?” Ravenpaw squeaked, leaning back a little.

“She practically sliced it in-half.” Cardinalpaw insisted.

“Elanki is really scary.”

“Well you’re not supposed to use them lightly,” Chaffinchpaw said, flicking her tail dismissively. “Elanki can kill - so we only use them in real battles. And they make us wait so we’re responsible.”

“I say they should demonstrate by clawing a rock,” Cardinalpaw proclaimed with another - slightly exaggerated - shudder.

“If you think that’s scary, you should see star’s elanki - paam told me about the first time Our Storm used hers. He said it was like lightning had come to life and fought for us,” Chaffinchpaw insisted.

“Count me out - if I ever see lightning charging at me, I’m running away.”

“Good thing you’re on our side then - don’t betray us and it’ll never charge you,” snorted Wrenpaw resting his chin on his paws.

“What are the other star elanki light?” Cardinalpaw inquired, drawing his tongue between the toes of his front-paws.

“I’ve never seen them,” Chaffinchpaw admitted. “From what I understand, Our Storm went to war against the Fenns once and used her cloak - since then, we’ve not seen claw nor whisker of the other factions on our land.”

“We Storms haven’t had to worry about invasions since Our Storm became our star,” Ravenpaw agreed and Cardinalpaw felt himself puffing up with faction. That was his mentor they were talking about - his mentor who was so fierce, no legionaries from any territory would be brave enough to fight her. “Her strength intimidates them so we’ve been focusing on the famines.”

“And the stillborn,” Jackdawpaw murmured sadly.

The den fell silent, any lingering levity vanishing from the weight of his words.

“I still don’t understand,” Jackdawpaw said in a whisper. “What did we do wrong?”

“I don’t know, but someone must’ve done something,” said Ravenpaw, eyes dropping to his nesting material. “Slysoul is merciful and Moonsoul is kind - they wouldn’t take our cubs for no reason.”

“You think it’s because of the Fenns?” Wrenpaw suggested. “They chased out a whole faction.”

A pause as all sides considered this.

“... the famine does seem to be affecting everyone but the Shorerisen again,” Ravenpaw mused, stifling a yawn.

“So this could last until the Galespun come back.”

“Or until the Skua is deposed,” reasoned Chaffinchpaw. “It was his idea after all.”

“It’s late,” Jackdawpaw murmured, settling down in his nest. He swept his large tail around himself, settling into the high ends of his cozy nest. “Who knows if we’ll be dragged out on a dawn patrol tomorrow - let’s sleep.”

“It would be nice,” mumbled Quietpaw without bothering to open her eyes.

Cardinalpaw snickered with the rest of his cohort as they all got comfy. His exhaustion clutched onto him and he was swept away into the land of dreams quickly.

| | |

“Well done Cardinalpaw - now aim for the rock.”

He took in a deep breath, feeling the power thrumming through his veins. He’d been trained to observe the flow of his makai since he was only about 3 moons old but he was being taught to put it into action. He felt the energy flowing though himself and focused on the circuit centered in his paws, pressing lightly against his toes but flowing back into the wider circuit with no-where to go. He reached in himself and directed it outwards, pushing it to follow the new track created by unsheathing his claws.

He watched his claws take on a bright but focused glow, wrapping around each digit.

Cardinalpaw hobbled over to the rock he was focusing on careful to keep his balance before he surged forward with as much energy as she could spare with a, “ha!”

His claws caught slightly on the rock but rather than glancing off and leaving thin, white lines on the surface; his claws had sunk in, dredging relatively deep gouges.

“Well done,” praised Asterdawn making a purr rumble out of his chest. He was very proud of the markings that seemed more fitting for a slice of wood than a hard set stone. “Soon you’ll be on your way to using it in active battle.”

“Skeis,” muttered Cardinalpaw. That goal seemed further off than the second sky, he was already tired and that was just while using it standing still.

“Using elanki is very draining - your reserves will increase as you mature but you should always be very careful,” his mentor lectured him. “How much do you think is left in your well?”

Cardinalpaw gave himself a little shake and closed his eyes taking deep breaths to calm himself. His heart pounded in his chest loudly in a deafening sound but that just made it easier to find his flow - the well was centered in the chest, caught in a creature’s lungs and heart. It felt somewhat normal but seeing it wasn’t the way to tell anyway - he reached out and tugged gently on the well.

A painful burning sensation spread through his heart and lungs not unlike when he first started on the forest sprints making him tremble a little in response to the pain.

“None,” he reported to his mentor, wincing as the elanki pulsed through his lungs. “If I try anything but following the current, it starts burning.”

Asterdawn frowned a little but nodded.

“Then our next focus will be on moderation and controlling the flow of your elanki,” she informed him. “You used far too much for that one swipe - you should always have a bit left over in case of emergencies.”

“Like an ambush?” Cardinalpaw asked.

“An ambush,” she agreed. “Or an enraged boar interrupted by the battle or a fallen tree that you need to cut through to free yourself. There are many ways your elanki can be of use so you should always try to spare some for these situations.”

Cardinalpaw nodded obediently - it made sense enough to him. Besides, the pain that came with over-extending his elanki wasn’t worth it.

“Now take some time to rest Cardinlpaw - you will be attending today’s Peace-Gather alongside Ravenpaw and Jackdawpaw.”

“What about Chaffinchaw and Wrenpaw?”

“Chaffinchpaw is not allowed to attend this Peace-Gather for fighting with a cadet of the Shorerisen and Wrenpaw had volunteered to stay back with here.”

“Oh, alright,” Cardinalpaw agreed easily, taking the moment to stretch his legs forward.

He padded after his mentor from the clearing, shaking his paws out every few steps as his toes tingled from the strange sensation of using his makai. It was not unlike the feelings of nettles and needles felt when he laid strangely on his paw.

“You can get a draught from Spottedholly to handle the stinging sensation,” his mentor told him when she noticed him walking a bit stiffly. “It will be a long-term companion until you are used to using your elanki.”

He gives her a mew of thanks - the information would be useful but as it was, the second they were fully in the barracks he flopped down beside the cadet’s stump. He licked his paws, attempting to wash away the stinging by himself as he watched Lionbelly and Larkwing immediately sweep his mentor away into a meeting.

A pang of jealousy touched his heart.

He wished he could spend a bit more time with Asterdawn like the other cadets did with their own mentors. Jackdawpaw wasn’t to be envied as he was now adjusting to Lionbelly’s new status as lieutenant preventing the golden furred tom from spending as much time with his cadet as he used to but Callastorm went out hunting with Chaffinchpaw every day and Larkwing dedicated his non-dawn patrol mornings to lounging with Ravenpaw. Even Titfeather spent sunpeak wrestling with Wrenpaw in the clearing, laughing and pawing at each other.

He understands that his mentor is busy - that she’s always in meetings about soothing the relations between the factions, tending to their territory and ensuring the relationship between the Stormborn and the surrounding loner lands remained at the very least neutral. Her job was important - as important as the duties and responsibilities he had back in the Shining Sun but he wishes he could spend more time with her anyway.

He sighed mournfully, intending to move further up on his forelegs to continue his grooming when a sharp pain shot through his tail.

“Ouch!” he yelped, whirling around with half unsheathed claws.

He came nose to nose with a small cinnamon furred molly whose tail was raised proudly in the air.

“I did it!” she declared.

“Lynx?” Cardinalpaw blinked, thinking back to the bundles of energy that regularly darted throughout the clearing. Four moons old and she and her brother were already both complete menaces upon on the faction with their sneak attacks - Cardinalpaw was just the latest in a long line of victims. “Leave my poor tail alone!”

“Or what?” she challenged.

Cardinalpaw growled playfully, giving her a teasing snap of his teeth. The little molly squealed darting off towards her brother - Wolf - who watched with awe as Cardinalpaw came trotting up to them.

“You got a cadet,” Wolf said, tilting his head back to stare up at him.

“Yeah Cardinalpaw’s my friend now,” Lynx boasted. “And he’s showing me real cadet moves.”

At that, Wolf immediately began demanding that Cardinalpaw teach him ‘ the cool stuff’ too. The ruddy furred tom stifled his laughter merely offering to teach the two cubs a proper hunter’s crouch. He was bombarded with excited squealing as the two cubs dropped to their bellies beginning to squirm across the clearing as Cardinalpaw corrected their stances.

“Make sure your tail isn’t dragging, but don’t let it stand up like a tree,” he lectured, watching Wolf immediately slam his tail to the ground.

Cardinalpaw shook his head fondly - they would be four moons old soon, old enough to begin following his cohort to the Sandy Hollow to shadow their training sessions. It didn’t hurt to start them on their lessons early. His gaze drew up to Daisyflower, resting by the nursery with her paws crossed over each other while she watched her twins fondly.

“You’ll make a good mentor one day,” she tells him.

Cardinalpaw’s pinna twitched sheepishly, and turned away as his ears heated up. Seeing as the twins were thoroughly distracted with their hunting crouches, now playing a game of ‘hunters,’ he padded back over to his spot by the cadet’s stump and settled down again. His time, content to watch the cubs play.

---

Kingdom Translations

Nipuyu | A common nickname for a runt (lit. little-little)

Yekiyai | Thank you (informal)

Anasiŕo | Older brother

Kingdom Notes

Moons and Migrations - A common phrase used to mean that someone is taking a long time to perform a task, often with the implication that a flock of birds could’ve migrated and returned in the time it took for a task to be completed

Taihakida - The Traitor and Turntail, a greedy weasel that’s said to have been the instigator for many of the world’s worst wars and chaos pre-connection era. It’s said that Taihakida may have lost his physical form but can now whisper in the areas of creatures when they are alone causing doubt, spreading gossip and implanting concern.

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Empire Translations

Elanki | The internal magic used by the creatures of the world, within the factions; it is a combative energy

Pride Notes

Ukennva | The collection of recently hunted food available to the faction (lit. fresh prey)

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#strelles au #strike the match chapters #strelles cardinalpaw #strelles jackdawpaw #strelles wrenpaw #strelles chaffinchpaw #strelles wolfkit #strelles lynxkit #strelles ahasra

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