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strelles-universe · 2 years ago

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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

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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.

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#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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