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forestclan-clangen · 25 days ago

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MOON 12 (Part 1)

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To everyone's shock, Talontooth goes missing. They call out to him in the early morning - but he's gone. Iciclepool is particularly upset about this, having mentored the warrior. She thought that after years of seeing this process, she would get used to it. She doesn't. She barely avoids prolonged grief with the help of Hopechase.

(Iciclepool, deputy, female, 68 moons. Ambitious.) (Hopechase, warrior, female, 94 moons. Playful)

---

Iciclepool thought she was free from this. When Lakestar was gone, she thought for once, just once, perhaps things would be okay. Deep in her heart, she knew that wasn't true. She knew the law of the woods. She knew that she would have to see adult cats die again.

When Talontooth wasn't found in camp the night Windfur and Shiverpaw returned from the Half-Moon Dome, when the sun rose in the morning and he hadn't returned, the Clan had to accept that he was gone.

She thought that after years of seeing that process, she would be used to it. She wasn't.

She taught Talontooth everything she knew to stay alive. She thought that she had done everything to make sure that he would live a long life. Grow strong, mentor another cat, perhaps have a family of his own, if he was inclined to it.

Why? Why him? Out of all the cats -

Iciclepool could barely say anything at his funeral rites. The only thing she could say was a pitiful apology. She felt everyone's eyes on her pelt and it hurt.

She buried herself in her nest, begging for roots to rise from the earth and swallow her too. Iciclepool denied his death. Raged against StarClan and the woods. Considered if maybe he had simply run away to the Twoleg cabins. Wallowed in despair. Repeat.

She could barely feel the gentle paw pressed against her back.

"...Icicle?"

Hopechase's gentle voice felt like daggers on her soul.

"...Hey." A dark pelt padded in front of her field of vision. Iciclepool continued to stare into space, even as Hopechase's blue eyes filled her vision. The dark molly said nothing as she simply stared into Iciclepool's eyes.

"...I'm sorry, Icicle. I know he meant a lot to you."

The white deputy felt the knife twist. She closed her eyes as she felt the bile rise in her throat. She said nothing.

Hopechase wordlessly rested her chin on Iciclepool's head, then began grooming her.

"Hope, please."

"Please what?"

"Please leave me alone."

"I will. But you haven't groomed yourself in two days. When you feel the strength to stand again, being mat-free will help."

"I don't…" Iciclepool started her retort, then trailed off defeatedly. There was no point. Arguing with Hopechase was an exercise in futility. She didn't argue back. She only listened, and did what she believed to be right. So, Iciclepool let her. She closed her eyes and allowed her to groom her and remove any compacting hair.

For a moment, she thought of one of the last times she spent with Cliffstep. She grieved. She wailed as all of her kits were gone, again. The woods, Lakestar - took everything from her. She couldn't hear herself over the voice of her own cries. And there lay Cliffstep next to her. Grooming her. Removing her mats. His work was gentle, but his muscles were tense the entire time, his face chiseled with burning intensity. He barely spoke for the next week. His ice blue eyes were soft around his loved ones. They sharpened with the ferocity of a lynx the very moment Lakestar or Chicoryglint crossed his path - cold and haunting.

He loved his family, so much. He loved her. He would've loved Talontooth. He would've -

Iciclepool's face curled into a snarl as she buried her face into Hopechase and wept.

She doesn't know how much time had passed until she found her emotions spiralling back down, going numb. The warm newleaf sun had started melting the snow. The sound of water dripping off the branches and the den walls outside played a soft melody.

"Iciclepool." Hopechase's voice was filled with love. "I'm going to help set patrols for you. Alright?"

Iciclepool just nodded. Hopechase blinked slowly, a passing thought crossing her gaze. Her tail tapped the floor pensively. Finally, it seemed like she made a choice, and her eyes softened.

"I love you, Iciclepool."

The white molly froze for a moment. She opened her eyes again, her copper gaze layered with an unknown feeling. Hopechase continued with the wisdom of many lives.

"I know that you know. My feelings aren't hidden. I know that right now, and maybe for a little while, the world will feel cruel, and empty. And that's alright. But I need you to know that you are loved." Hopechase pressed her nose against Iciclepool's forehead. "You still have family. You still have friends. And while today may be one of the worst days you will ever have, I am here to give you a groom, and take your tasks, and remind you that today, your world has not ended."

Iciclepool's voice was stuck in her throat as her eyes widened. She felt her pelt turn hot in shame and unbridled emotion, unable to mantle any thoughts to her mind.

Hopechase pulled back, and gave her a look that she had only seen from one other cat before in her life. "Please, grieve and pray to Cliffstep and Talontooth. Their eyes are watching you from StarClan. They love you, so much."

Iciclepool bit back a cry.

"And when you feel like you can laugh again," Hopechase continued. "Then you can tell me how you feel. Whichever way you do, I will still be your friend. And you will still be a lovely deputy," Hopechase let out a final purr of comfort before steadily padding outside the den.

Iciclepool, for the first time since she sat in her den, turned to watch Hopechase leave, and looked outside the warrior's den. For a moment, her mind was a storm of emotion.

Hopechase…really felt that way? And she would wait? Even seeing her as a useless heap of a deputy, weeping again at another lost child - is this really what she wanted?

And…did Iciclepool want her? Is that something her grief would even permit her to think about?

Talontooth wanted life as well. But you are here. And he is not.

Her guilt ravished whatever brief embers of contentment lit in her heart. She felt numb again.

And yet, she couldn't bring herself to turn back to face the wall again. Her eyes were frozen on the movement of the outside world - the one Hopechase wandered freely within.

For a moment, she watched. Her clanmates were still reeling from the hurt. Riversnow sat in the sun, her eyes following Cloudthunder's kits gently. Windfur approached her glumly, and said something to her. After a few moments of no movement, Riversnow nodded without looking up at him. Windfur seemed surprised, but grateful as he gave her an herb Iciclepool knew well - borage.

Morningspot stared at the cooking fire. Her eyes were void of meaning, as though her spirit was gone and her body was piloted by something else. Olive's yellowcough was recovering steadily - almost completely gone. The older molly wordlessly sat next to the younger, staring at the fire with her. It conveyed support that didn't need words.

And…under the shadow of the apprentice den was Shiverpaw. Her kit. Her eyes were empty. Windfur said that after their visit to the Dome, she was frantic. Dreading. She said something horrible was going to happen, and she didn't know what. Just that she was so, so afraid.

Iciclepool felt a rock in her belly. Her grief drowned under the waves of protectiveness and fear.

You still have family. You still have friends.

Hopechase's words echoed in her thoughts. She weakly pushed herself to her feet, and hissed as she stumbled. Her muscles wobbled in complaint.

How long…how long had she ignored Shiverpaw in her grief?

Her kit. Oh, her poor kit.

Iciclepool felt like the sun beaming at her pelt threatened to expose her suffering to the world. That…that didn't matter right now. She slowly padded towards her daughter. Her mind could only ever picture her as the poor kitten she found, shivering in a bush on a cool newleaf day. But her child was almost all grown up. A year old. Her child was here.

Shiverpaw heard Iciclepool's pawsteps, and her body tensed and straightened. Her cobalt blue eyes were wide, as though spooked by her mother's sudden appearance.

"O-Oh. Mom. I'm sorry, I…I was going to check on you," Shiverpaw stammered, her voice dry. "Did, um…I…I could give you a poppy seed, if that'll help with…"

Iciclepool said nothing. She wordlessly sat next to her child, her pelt brushing against hers. Shiverpaw looked at her with wide, sleep-deprived eyes.

The deputy gently brushed her tail against her daughter's back.

"...Speak to me, Shiver."

Shiverpaw slowly shook her head, until her expression broke and she buried her head into her mother's shoulder. She mewled pathetically.

"It's my fault. It's all my fault. All of it. All of it, all of it," she said between sobs.

"No, honey. No," Iciclepool said with a comforting purr rising in her throat. "Whatever StarClan said, a warning can come too late. You are not responsible for this."

"But I am. And it is. I should've never - I shouldn't have - " Shiverpaw continued to stumble before being reduced to a grief-stricken mess. Whatever words her daughter wanted to say, they couldn't find their perch.

So, she didn't push her. She decided to just be there for her daughter. She, too, had lost a friend.

---

Redstar and Hopechase cooperate to reinstate a past ForestClan festival - The First Bloom, which would occur in the next moon. Despite Redstar's grief, she tells herself that this will be good for the Clan. First Bloom focused on games, decorating the camp with local early-weeds and quick-growing plants, and paying respects to the prey they hunt.

(Redstar, leader, female, 70 moons. Strict.) (Hopechase, warrior, female, 94 moons. Playful.)

Windfur stumbles into a loner healer, named Bracken. She's only 9 moons old, and asks if he's seen a black tom - her littermate. Out of concern, he offers her advice on some of the local herbs, and offers her a place in the Clan. But Bracken refused, having heard rumors about Clan life and VERY adamant against it. Windfur burns with resentment over Lakestar's bloody legacy.

(Windfur, medicine cat, male, 26 moons. Lonesome) (Bracken, loner, female, 9 moons. Grumpy)

Deerkit and Cottonkit REALLY want to explore outside of camp, interested in the songs of birds they've never seen. Cottonkit comes up with a plan to sneak out with Deerkit, but Barleywave puts a stop to it. Barleywave thinks the kits aren't taking their safety seriously.

(Barleywave, warrior, male, 41 moons. Playful.) (Deerkit, kitten, female, 2 moons. Noisy) (Cottonkit, kitten, female, 2 moons. Fearless.)

Airkit prefers to spend time with his mother, Cloudthunder. Cloudthunder is somewhat concerned, but tries to engage with him anyway.

(Airkit, kitten, male, 2 moons. Polite.) (Cloudthunder, warrior, female, 45 moons. Adventurous)

Branchpaw brings fresh moss to replace Riversnow's bedding. Riversnow appreciates the effort Branchpaw has been putting in recently.

(Branchpaw, apprentice, female, 7 moons) (Riversnow, warrior, female, 61 moons)

Cloudthunder cooks Tree something soothing for their stomach. Tree thanks her profusely and offers a flirty compliment, which Cloudthunder seems receptive to.

(Tree, warrior, non-binary, 43 moons. Adventurous) (Cloudthunder, warrior, female, 45 moons. Adventurous.)

Barleywave tried to talk to Riversnow like Hopechase asked of him, really, he tried. But it was rather difficult to do when she kept not-so-subtly finding an excuse to leave whenever he approached her. Dejected, he gives up. She had no obligation to talk to him, right? He wasn't her mate. That was normal. Yep. He wasn't - nope. He wasn't sad at all. Sadness is for losers. He was TOTALLY FINE - [He was, in fact, not fine.]

(Barleywave, warrior, male, 41 moons. Playful) (Riversnow, warrior, female, 61 moons. Adventurous)

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clangenrising · 1 year ago

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Month 15 - Newleaf

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Battle With Razor Pt 1

Goldenstar sat alone in a small dip in the woods where the trees parted around the remnants of a very old, rotted tree trunk. Eyes closed, she took a deep, slow breath of the pungent, mulchy air and strained her ears to try and hear any movement within the forest around her. She didn’t like how much the trees and the spongy earth dampened every sound further away than a fox-length and stifled the breeze.

It was early morning, pre-dawn, and the forest birds were just starting to sing. Goldenstar couldn’t hear much else and it made her stomach twist nervously. She knew that was the point, that the cats hidden in the trees were supposed to be undetectable to anyone in the clearing but she couldn’t help but worry that they had all gone missing for some reason, that they wouldn’t come to her aid when she needed them.

That’s not gonna happen, she reminded herself. Just stay calm. You’re doing this for Scorch.

Taking Razor out of play would benefit everyone, obviously, but Scorch was the cat who kept coming back to mind. For her, for her, for her, she told herself over and over as the twilight inched slowly towards the morning. She reminded herself of the pawprints Razor had left all over her beloved and readied herself for the fight of her life.

The sound of a cat bounding through the trees in her direction pulled her from her thoughts. Springing easily around the roots and stones of the woodland, Orangestar came running from the direction of the thunderpath with her tail arched worriedly behind her. For the purpose of their ruse, she was serving as Goldenstar’s second and had been waiting on the edge of the forest to guide Razor and the other rogues into the trap. Goldenstar frowned and stood to meet her.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“They’re nearly here,” Orangestar said, pupils wide, breath scarce. “A lot more than just two.”

“More than we have?” Goldenstar whispered urgently.

Orangestar paused, glanced over her shoulder, then said, “Um, I don’t think so.” She swallowed and crouched down to try and catch her breath.

“Then it will be alright,” Goldenstar said, standing up to her full height in anticipation. “We were planning for this, remember? StarClan will see us to victory.” Somehow, with a more nervous cat there, she managed to believe it this time.

“Yeah, okay,” Orangestar said, nodding to herself. She let out a long breath and then moved to stand just behind Goldenstar. She could see cats moving through the trees now, hear the jingling of multiple bell collars. The crowd of cats wasn’t making any attempt to mask their presence. Suddenly, Goldenstar understood Orangestar’s jumpiness. No matter how many cats she knew were hiding just out of sight, the war party advancing steadily on her position was intimidating to say the least.

There were at least two dozen cats, maybe three, about a third of them obviously kittypets. Clearly, they were anticipating significant resistance. Most all of them were toms, many with scarred faces or torn ears, some with the distinctive notch of the Chaff. They loomed hungrily out of the trees, eyes glinting fiercely, teeth flashing in anticipation. They looked like a pack of starving dogs circling a meal and Goldenstar became acutely aware that she was the meal they were hungry for.

At the head of the group was a towering kittypet with a scarred muzzle, slim cheeks, and tufted ears. Even without the description Yarrowshade had given her, she would have recognized Razor from his resemblance to Mystique. The patterning was different but the features were all the same.

Razor tilted his head to mutter something to the ginger tabby next to him who Goldenstar recognized from the other day. The ginger tabby nodded and muttered something back which made Razor smile. Goldenstar’s hackles prickled instinctively.

“Well, well, well,” Razor called across the last few fox-lengths of space, “if it isn’t Goldenstar herself. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“This isn’t what we agreed,” Goldenstar said. “It was supposed to be just you and your second.” She just had to stall long enough for the reinforcements to arrive

“No, you see, we never agreed on anything,” said Razor with an airy tone. “My men said they would bring your offer to me and they did.” Halfway there. Razor himself was getting terribly close. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t bring an army of your own. You wild cats really are as dumb as you seem.” He smiled a dastardly smile that curled up to show his upper gums on one side, his sharp and unnervingly white teeth bared dangerously. Those were the same teeth that had killed Smokyrose and worse.

Goldenstar bristled and puffed herself up to try and match him for size, at least a little. “I wanted to settle this peacefully,” she hissed, “but you seem determined to force my paw. You’ve given me no choice but to stop you with force.”

Razor laughed and turned back to his followers like a performer in front of an audience. “You hear that, boys? The little girl is going to stop me with force!” The group laughed along obediently. Goldenstar’s cheeks burned with humiliation despite herself. Razor turned his attention back on her with a dark, menacing rumble. His tail flicked left and then right and, immediately, the kittypets behind him started spreading around the dip to form a circle. Orangestar shuffled anxiously and turned to stand back to back with Goldenstar, claws flexing against the leaf litter.

Razor stepped in closer and took a deep breath of Goldenstar’s scent and she repressed a shudder of disgust. His grin slid off his face as he looked down at her, their chests a mouse-length from touching, replaced with a cold and pitiless glare.

“Tiger was right,” he growled, lowly enough that only she could hear. “Her scent is all over you.” Goldenstar swallowed. How had that detail slipped her mind?! Of course he would smell Scorch on her fur! They shared a nest! Goldenstar spent every waking moment trying to be near her! Razor smiled again at her paling expression but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Mm, so you knew,” he said, stepping forward again so she was forced to back up, bumping into Orangestar’s hind quarters. “You knew you were taking something of mine and you did it anyway.”

Anger burst to life like flames in Goldenstar’s chest. “She doesn’t belong to you!” she spat in the same quiet tone. “She never has and she never will!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Razor snarled. He was so close she could feel his hot breath on her face. “I might have forgiven you if you truly didn’t know what you had done but I won’t stand by and let a filthy, backwards savage like you get away with corrupting my mate with your-” his words caught in his throat briefly, a small noise of disgust while he searched for the word, “perversions.”

Goldenstar didn’t know how to respond to that. She could barely process what ‘perversions’ he was even referring to.

She shook her head, discarded the thought, and raised her voice to address the entire crowd instead. “I don’t want to shed any unnecessary blood! Any Chaff who stand down or retreat will not be pursued!” Razor tilted his head back and laughed cruelly.

“You don’t get to set the terms here, girl!” He cried. “Your blood is the only blood being spilled today. If you beg, maybe your death will be quick.” In a flash, he swiped his claws at her face with enough force to knock her to the ground. Goldenstar ducked out of the way, stomach clenching, and bobbed back in to strike at his nose with her own claws. He pulled back, a look of indignation on his face, but she managed to nick one of his nostrils, drawing blood.

A few of the gathered rogues hissed disapprovingly. Razor held still for a moment. Goldenstar could feel how tense he was holding his body as he slowly and deliberately ran his tongue over his muzzle. He let out a slow, restrained breath.

“You… little… bitch,” he said through gritted teeth. Goldenstar ducked down into a defensive crouch in preparation for the dam that was about to break. Where are the others? She thought desperately.

Razor lunged for her, hissing furiously. She sprang into the air, and his teeth scraped her foreleg instead of closing around her neck. She bounced back onto her hind legs and lashed out with both paws. Most of her strikes passed harmlessly through his thick coat. One barely caught his cheek.

Behind her, Orangestar wheeled around and smacked Razor sharply in the throat. He coughed and turned on her, scoring a wound over her right shoulder. The look in his eyes was wild, like a rabid dog, lost in a bloodlust. Goldenstar bunched her legs to try and leap on his back, when a sudden yowling split the air.

Every head in the clearing turned outward as a wave of screaming Clan cats poured out of the trees around them. The circle the rogues had formed quickly collapsed as cats rushed to meet their foes or gave ground under the assault. Goldenstar’s heart soared hopefully.

“Look out!” she heard Orangestar shout and she just barely managed to twist so that Razor’s teeth sank into her shoulder and not her throat. She hissed in pain and rolled onto her back to rabbit kick at his face with her hind claws. Pain lanced through her as his claws wrapped around her torso and tugged at her pelt, then suddenly he released her with a shout and reeled back, blinking away the blood dripping into his left eye.

Behind him, Orangestar had sunken her teeth into the tendons of one of his back legs and was tugging as hard as her jaws would allow, dancing back as he tried to wheel around and claw at her. The noise of the battle was overwhelming now, a cacophony of tumbling bodies and wrathful screams. Goldenstar tried to block it out as best she could. Her one job was to kill Razor, her and Orangestar both. Only when he was dead could they refocus on the rest of the battle.

Baring her teeth, she lunged again, body singing with the thrill of righteous battle. For Scorch! her heart cried, burning with all the power of a shining golden sun.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #clangenrising #newleaf #Battle With Razor #swear warning #Goldenstar #Orangestar #Razor #tw homophobia

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