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rippleclan · 26 days ago

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RippleClan: Moon 78

The Clan collectively celebrates Weedfoot as everyone finds a way to move on. Potterypool, Wolfgaze, Currentsmoke, and Yarrowclaw join their littermates in the warrior’s den.

[Image ID: Potterypool, Wolfgaze, Currentsmoke, and Yarrowclaw are adults and graduates. Under Potterypool, it says LEVEL UP! POTTERYPAW → POTTERYPOOL, INSECURE → SNEAKY, LOVES TO SING → GREAT SINGER. Under Wolfgaze, it says LEVEL UP! WOLFPAW → WOLFGAZE, CURIOUS ABOUT STARCLAN → CONNECTION WITH STARCLAN, CONFIDENT WITH WORDS → GOOD SPEAKER. Under Currentsmoke, it says LEVEL UP! CURRENTPAW → CURRENTSMOKE, CONSTANTLY CLIMBING → GOOD CLIMBER, HAS LOTS OF IDEAS → SKILLED TOOLSMITH. Under Yarrowclaw, it says LEVEL UP! YARROWPAW → YARROWCLAW, THOUGHTFUL → COLD, STARES AT FIRE → TALENTED FIRE-STARTER.]

"Wolfgaze… Wolfgaze… Wolfgaze, Wolfgaze, Wolfgaze!"

"I'm still awake, I promise," Wolfgaze yelped, blinking wildly and shaking the exhaustion from her thick fur. Thank StarClan she didn't fall over. She'd claimed a spot on the Resting Place immediately after her ceremony, providing a great vantage over the camp. Yet the lulling waves behind her and the empty, clouded sky above were the perfect recipe for a long nap. Weevilpaw stood with her front paws on the log, her entire body standing straight with excitement.

"Downstar said I could fetch you," Weevilpaw chirped. "You made it! Your codekeeper's vigil! How did it feel?"

"Long," Wolfgaze yawned. She stumbled off the Resting Place, licking her lips. "Where are the others?" Potterypool, Currentsmoke, and Yarrowclaw had been sitting outside the camp the last time Wolfgaze looked. Now the entrance was barren, all thorns, brambles, and stones.

"They already fell back into camp," Weevilpaw chuckled. "Currentsmoke was so tired, I thought he would fall on his face!"

"I'm ready to see my graduation gift," Wolfgaze sighed as Weevilpaw rubbed against her. The tortoiseshell cleric helped her sister into camp, laughing as Wolfgaze's eyes drifted shut. With the sun peeking over the sea, Wolfgaze expected the Clan to set out for the day's patrols, but to her surprise, she found most of RippleClan gathered in the center of camp. Downstar sat on the Shiprock, gazing down at the activities below her. Potterypool, Currentsmoke, and Yarrowclaw stood at the edge of the crowd, trying to see what caught their kin's attention.

"What's going on?" Wolfgaze asked, morning clarity clearing her thoughts. She and Weevilpaw joined the newly graduated cats, who were all largely ignored by the rest of the Clan.

"The artisans are doing something," Yarrowclaw explained.

"I think it has something to do with that big chunk of wood they brought in last night," Currentsmoke pointed out. "Remember? Elmsprout and the artisans pulled the sled out and came back to camp with a huge piece!"

"It was a slow night, Currentsmoke," Potterypool hummed, gently nudging her friend. "I think she remembers." Wolfgaze did not, in fact, remember, but she pretended she did.

Wolfgaze braced herself and squeezed between Splashtuft and Wildclaw. She weaved around her Clanmates until she broke into the center of the circle. Mitespark, Elmsprout, Rabbitjoy, and Rattlepelt stood around a wooden sculpture. Ravenpaw sat near them, listening carefully as Rattlepelt explained what they were doing. They picked at the wood with their claws, their teeth, and a few specialized tools; sharp stone picks that could be wrapped around the paw with leather straps, perfect for detailed work on pottery and woodwork. Elmsprout was the first to notice Wolfgaze.

"Wolfgaze!" she called, gently stepping back from the sculpture. "You finished your vigil! Congratulations! Your sisters made your nest in the warrior's den. I'm certain you'll like their gift."

"What are you doing, though?" Wolfgaze asked.

"Oh, that's right, no one told you," Elmsprout gasped softly. "Mitespark, let her see!" Mitespark carefully pulled her carving pick from the wood's surface and moved to the side. It was a bust, a cat's face from the tip of their ears to their collarbone. They were a smooth-faced cat with round features, shaped almost like a triangle sitting on its tip.

"We debated whether to carve in her stripes or paint them," Rabbitjoy explained, "but I think we're going to paint them."

"Is this someone I'm supposed to recognize?" Wolfgaze asked.

"We carved it from memory," Mitespark admitted, "but imagine gray fur and deep blue eyes…"

"Weedfoot!" Wolfgaze suddenly gasped. "You carved Weedfoot's face?"

"James and Scaleripple are making paint for her," Rattlepelt explained. "We told James he could rest and enjoy the finished product, but I guess he wanted to lend a paw for once."

"But why carve Weedfoot?" Wolfgaze asked, glancing at the crowd. "Why is everyone so excited?"

"A Clan's leader and deputy carry all of us on their backs," Rabbitjoy said, brushing against the newly named codekeeper. "They affect all of us, and we all grieve them when they pass. It's a part of our history fading away. The whole camp was up last night sharing memories of Weedfoot, and Paleseed came up with this idea. We're thinking of doing the same for future leaders and deputies after they pass."

"We'll find a place to store them where the paint won't decay," Rattlepelt promised.

"It will be lovely," Wolfgaze purred. A yawn slipped through her words, despite her efforts to hold it back.

"It will still be here when you wake up," Mitespark laughed. "Go to sleep!" Wolfgaze bowed her head, her exhaustion flooding back with Mitespark's simple order. She moved back through the crowd, who passed along a few more congratulations.

"Wolfgaze!" Billowhaze stepped out of the swarm just as Wolfgaze breached the horde. His whiskers twitched in casual mirth. "Anchovy and I are planning abig battle-training session with Estherfern's litter this evening. You should join us! With all the Spirits of Shadow out there, those five could practice against that stare of yours."

"I'm not sure," Wolfgaze gulped, her ears suddenly growing hot under Billowhaze's charming stare. "It might be too dangerous to leave camp just for a training session. With what happened to Silverpaw…" Silverpaw should have been sitting vigil with Wolfgaze that night. Wolfgaze shouldn't have had to spend those long moments wondering what happened to her sister, what Spirit of Shadow pulled her under, never to be seen again.

"That's why training will be good for them," Billowhaze insisted. "We can even bring Weevilpaw along if that makes you feel better. The Spirits of Shadow wouldn't match claws with our three star-blessed warriors, would they?" Billowhaze winked and turned back to Weedfoot's bust, trying to gaze upon the former deputy's face. Even through the chaos of recent moons and the overpowering desire to sleep, Wolfgaze still felt her heart flutter at Billowhaze's stare.

It seemed her life as a codekeeper was off to a good start.

(Weevilpaw: 13, female, cleric apprentice, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Wolfgaze: 13, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, good speaker)

(Yarrowclaw: 13, female, warrior, cold, talented fire-starter)

(Currentsmoke: 13, male, caretaker, loving, good climber, skilled toolsmith)

(Potterypool: 13, female, caretaker, sneaky, great singer)

(Elmsprout: 45, female, caretaker, charismatic, helpful insight)

(Rabbitjoy: 115, female, artisan, charismatic, master weaver)

(Mitespark: 20, female, artisan, charismatic, great mediator)

(Rattlepelt: 61, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Billowhaze: 13, male, historian, loyal, good kitsitter)

Boughpaw found a forget-me-not flower growing in the frost and decided to keep it.

[Image ID: Boughpaw now wears a forget-me-not flower. Under her, it reads + ACCESSORY: FORGET-ME-NOTS.]

(Boughpaw: 10, female, historian apprentice, righteous, constantly climbing)

While collecting samples of ichor for a banishing ritual with Estherfern, Anchovystrike, and Mosspounce, Foampaw swears she hears Shrewkit crying in the distance. When she and Mosspounce go to investigate, only Mosspounce returns alive with horrified tales of a manykit and a new spirit composed of frost-covered leaves.

[Image ID: Foampaw is a StarClan spirit.]

(Foampaw: 10, female, caretaker apprentice, troublesome, always wandering)

Slushtrail spends time with her family.

[Image ID: Tallowheart, Oilstripe, Slushtrail, Shrewkit, Carnationspeckle, Rattlepelt, and Wildclaw gather together.]

---

Slushtrail knew, as soon as Downstar ordered everyone to stay in camp unless absolutely necessary, Longest Night would truly be a long, long night.

Three torches sat before the main bonfire, separate from the other memorials. A withered dandelion sat in front of the tallest. A silver stone necklace hung from the second. Salt crusted the base of the third, dipped in sea foam. It was a lot like the Longest Night Slushtrail remembered from her kithood. The artisans danced and sang, the historians told stories, the caretakers prepared a late night meal. The fire still roared against the never-ending night, a refusal to bow to the cold and decay. Slushtrail could tell, however, that it hurt some of her Clanmates to keep up the fight. Estherfern ranted to her remaining kits, relaying all she had learned in those last few moons about the Spirits of Shadow and their dangers. Mosspounce laughed a bit too loud at one of Lemmy's comments. Lavendertwist sang just loud enough to hurt Slushtrail's ears. Rattlepelt fought to keep Ravenpaw's attention, trying to demonstrate a special dance. RippleClan was clawing at the edge of a cliff, trying to pull themselves back up, unable to think anything but "it will be okay" when their hearts spoke the opposite.

Honeybuzz brushed his tail against Estherfern's shoulder mid-rant. She paused, and Slushtrail could see Estherfern's breath catch and fog around her. She touched her nose to each of her kits and followed Honeybuzz to the side, where Troutpool and Weevilpaw waited. Slushtrail couldn't hear them, but they sat close and carried torches in their eyes. Best to leave them be for now.

The rest of Slushtrail's family sat in front of the nursery. Tallowheart worked with Oilstripe on an old story; a great war between WheatClan and SlugClan and a friendship that healed their wounds. Carnationspeckle listened closely with Rattlepelt and Wildclaw while Shrewkit hid under Rattlepelt's fox pelt, shivering. With one more look over the rest of the Clan, Slushtrail joined her mothers and siblings.

"How do you like Longest Night, Shrewkit?" Slushtrail asked.

"I don't like the cold," he huffed, pulling his face under the fox pelt. "My mom's probably freezing her flank off tonight."

"I'm sure wherever your birth mother is," Carnationspeckle sighed, lifting the kit's cover away, "she's just happy you're growing up somewhere safe and warm. Can I warm you up?" Shrewkit nodded and crawled closer to his grandmother. Carnationspeckle licked Shrewkit's fur the wrong way, warming his blood.

"So can leaders really give cats whole new names?" Shrewkit asked, turning to Tallowheart and Oilstripe. "Like the warrior in your story?"

"I'm a living example of that!" Wildclaw chirped, gently bunting her son. "Have we told you I used to called Graythroat? Downstar gave me a new name because of how fiercely I defend RippleClan."

"More like because you have a death wish," Oilstripe chuckled. Tallowheart hid a snicker.

"I've outgrown it!" Wildclaw insisted with a laugh.

"Mostly," Rattlepelt hummed, rolling her eyes. Wildclaw batted her mate's muzzle, and Shrewkit laughed.

"Well I never want to lose my name," Shrewkit declared. "My mom named me Shrew, and that's who I'll be, forever. The kit part is extra." When he sat taller, he nearly head-butted Carnationspeckle's jaw into her skull.

"It works well for you," Slushtrail purred.

And for that night, everything was alright.

(Slushtrail: 14, female, mediator, wise, clever, talented weaver)

(Shrewkit: 2, male, kit, bossy, never sits still)

(Carnationspeckle: 80, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Wildclaw: 70, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

(Oilstripe: 82, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Rattlepelt: 61, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Tallowheart: 14, male, historian, nervous, good swimmer)

Troutpool hopes Trumpetspore notices her.

[Image ID: Troutpool stares at Trumpetspore.]

---

Troutpool stared at Trumpetspore from the medicine den as Trumpetspore and Brightpaw showed Shrewkit how to perform a hunter's crouch. There wasn't a lot of room to practice, since almost everyone was in camp, safe under the divine protection Troutpool and her peers summoned. It was the same protective ritual they performed during Harvest Moon. The clerics could only pray it would guard the Clan long enough for them to strike back against the Spirits of Shadow. Yet despite her chronic fear of them, Trumpetspore proved more confident in Troutpool's rituals than the cream cleric was.

"Keep your flank a little lower," Trumpetspore said, nudging Shrewkit's high flank down. "You're doing well." Troutpool didn't care if others laughed at Trumpetspore's nervousness or groaned at her panic. There was a keen-eyed warrior under that blanket of anxiety; a warrior Troutpool wanted to know more. Troutpool's eyes softened as she watched the black warrior move with such ease between Shrewkit and Brightpaw, eager to train despite the danger.

"You're staring." Troutpool startled a bit. Scaleripple stood outside the den, expressionless. He held a paw to his chest. A large thorn jutted out from his pads.

"I was just marveling at how well Shrewkit's adapted to Clan life," Troutpool stammered with a lick of her chest. "Here, that thorn looks awful, I'll help you get it out." That was obviously why Scaleripple was there, why did Troutpool have to say it like that?

Troutpool led Scaleripple into the shadow of the den. She grabbed a few cobwebs from the shelves (no need to waste a bandage on a simple thorn). She held Scaleripple's paw out and gripped the thorn between her teeth.

"You were staring at Trumpetspore," Scaleripple said right as Troutpool ripped the thorn out of his paw. Scaleripple hissed and licked the fresh flowing blood. Troutpool moved his paw back down and placed cobwebs on the small wound.

"Stay here for a while, and keep your paw off the sand," Troutpool said. "I'll take the cobwebs off soon. A wound that size will close quickly." Troutpool licked a strand of cobweb off her paws. Scaleripple stared at her, barely blinking. Did he want to talk about Trumpetspore? Well, if he did, he could just ask. Troutpool had no reason to be embarrassed by it. "You know Trumpetspore well. If I were to ask her on a date—"

"No," Scaleripple said so suddenly that Troutpool once again startled. They both stared at each other, one confused, the other certain in an unknowable, detached way. No? What did Scaleripple mean by 'no'? He wasn't Trumpetspore's mentor. Troutpool didn't need his permission! She must not have been able to hide her thoughts as well as Scaleripple did, for the gold and white warrior continued. "You told Trumpetspore her littermate was an omen. Why would she be your mate?"

"Scaleripple," Troutpool huffed, finding what little confidence she possessed and hardening her voice. "I only reported StarClan's sign. I didn't want to make Tempestshade's life hard. I revealed it at their trial because I didn't want them to be found guilty of murder."

"Instead you made everyone avoid them," Scaleripple said. He glanced at his bandaged paw with a soft huff. He tore off the red-stained cobweb and spat the wad onto the middle of the floor. "So, no. You don't get to ask Trumpetspore on a date. You don't deserve that." Scaleripple licked his paw once more and walked out of the den. It didn't seem to matter that he left Troutpool spinning, a dormant pressure rising in her chest. No, Scaleripple sauntered back into the packed clearing like nothing had happened.

According to him, nothing else should happen.

(Troutpool: 39, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Trumpetspore: 39, female, warrior, nervous, excellent potter, good storyteller)

(Scaleripple: 31, male, warrior, lonesome, formidable fighter)

RippleClan prepares a ritual to fight back against the Spirit hordes.

[Image ID: Troutpool, Honeybuzz, and Weevilpaw stand in a circle around Estherfern. Anchovystrike, Wolfgaze, Oilstripe, and Scaleripple watch from the sides.]

---

In Estherfern's faith, there was her God, who did His best to watch over her home, but there were also the Six Predators. The Wolf, The Fox, The Owl, The Hawk, The Rat, The Cougar. These vengeful, vindictive deities loved to toy with catkind, so Estherfern's home developed a dozen ways to combat their influence. Somewhere in the back of her heart, Estherfern wondered if they were the ones who tormented the souls of the Dark Forest, who gave birth to the Spirits of Shadow. Maybe they were the ones to kill Foampaw. Maybe they were laughing somewhere, saying "Look at Esther. Stepping above her station, making friends with the damned. Shouldn't she have known better? It's so fun to watch her destroy her family."

That night, Estherfern would spit in the faces of the Six Predators, of the Spirits of Shadow, of everything supernatural that roamed her new home, because no one got away with hurting her kits. Not even her.

"Estherfern, we don't have to tell anyone," Honeybuzz whispered as the procession trailed toward the beach. Honeybuzz and Estherfern kept to the back of the group, carrying baskets of supplies. Troutpool walked inside a circle composed of Weevilpaw, Anchovystrike, and Wolfgaze. Oilstripe and Scaleripple kept a sharp eye for strange shadows, ready to fight and protect the untrained clerics.

"What sort of justice would that be?" Estherfern huffed.

"The sort that keeps the peace," Honeybuzz said.

"Peace built on lies is no peace at all," Estherfern sighed. "When this is done… we're telling the Clan. May your ancestors and my God forgive me." Estherfern stared at the clouded sky. If StarClan was as strong as her Clanmates claimed, their presence would not be dulled by simple clouds hiding Silverpelt from view.

As the patrol approached the beach, it began to snow. Flakes danced on Estherfern's nose. Wolfgaze rubbed her fluffy pelt against her sister's thin fur as Weevilpaw shivered. Honeybuzz ran into the thicker circle of cats, quietly begging for extra warmth. Estherfern soaked in the cold. The cold meant she was alive. She was free. It was this freedom she sought to protect ever since she escaped the cat-minded human. Yet in seeing her kits as imprisoned in their bodies, had she not denied them freedom? Whenever she spoke with Wolverinepaw, the long-furred duplicate of Estherfern still stared a bit too hard. Thunderpaw still didn't ask Estherfern to repeat herself if she didn't catch what she said. Brightpaw squirmed in Estherfern's company, and Boughpaw stayed silent, forgotten in her normalcy. The truth would be the only thing that could fix their bonds, even if it destroyed them in the process.

"This is the place," Troutpool finally said. The patrol stood where the river met the ocean, dissolving into branches. Sand melted into mud and clay. A salt pool sat in the sand, the artisan's precious system to separate out the water and harvest the pure white crystals. The sea was nothing more than churning shadow. Estherfern and Honeybuzz set their baskets down.

"StarClan is watching," Oilstripe whispered, head spinning. "There are so many cats. I see Mousesong, and Weedfoot, Silverpaw… Estherfern, Foampaw is here." Estherfern steadied herself. She swallowed the rock in her throat.

"This is for you, Silverpaw!" Wolfgaze called into the dark, still pressed against Weevilpaw.

"They aren't saying anything," Oilstripe said. "I think they're just bearing witness."

"Foampaw, forgive me," Estherfern whispered.

"Oilstripe, Anchovystrike, Wolfgaze, Scaleripple," Honeybuzz said, taking dry mushrooms out of his basket, "you'll patrol around us while we work. Anchovystrike, how do we look?"

"There's ichor everywhere," Anchovystrike groaned, sneering at the sand. "The spirits roam the entire territory."

"It shouldn't be hard to draw them in," Weevilpaw huffed, standing taller. "I'll call out if I predict any of them attacking."

"This will take some time, so stay alert," Honeybuzz said. "Weevilpaw, help me build this side of the circle. Troutpool, Estherfern, take the other half." Estherfern gently grabbed a mouthful of mushrooms, which grew damp in the snow, and started on her side of the circle.

The circle would be far bigger than the one in Estherfern's cursed den. Yes, it was similar to that original circle, composed of the same mushrooms that connected the living world to the Dark Forest. Yet here, the design was not based on those damned traditions, but Estherfern's faith. While the mushrooms formed the curves of the circle, rather than filling the interior with an herbal sludge, Estherfern's basket held a purer replacement; the spirit-rebelling charms from Harvest Moon. In Estherfern's home, the charms would have had the gentle face of God, with tufts of fur representing each of the Six Predators replacing the mushrooms.

"Is this safe?" Scaleripple asked. He sat in the branches of a chokecherry, carefully watching the shore.

"We're summoning Spirits of Shadow and sending them back to the Dark Forest," Weevilpaw scoffed as she set down a few more charms. "There's a lot of risk involved here. But it's what we have to do if we have any hope to get rid of them all."

"I don't mean the spirits," Scaleripple said softly. "These gods that Estherfern fears… are they real?"

"Of course they are," Estherfern snapped, almost knocking a mushroom out of its place. "They may not dwell over your lands, but they dwell over mine."

"What if we summon both the spirits…" Scaleripple said, "and your Predators?" Estherfern's paw clenched over a charm. Was the white-speckled warrior right? Estherfern knew so many tales of the Six Predators and the way they destroyed lives. They did not need to feed, they did not have that excuse for their mayhem. It was fun for them. They spread their domains with no care for each other or any living creature. Was Estherfern repeating her earlier mistakes? Was she, in her effort to fix one problem, inviting something far worse?

"Esther," Honeybuzz said. He met Estherfern's eyes from the other side of the circle. He set the last mushroom in its place. "It's our best option. There are too many." Estherfern nodded. She settled the last of her charms in the circle and turned to Troutpool. The head cleric nodded in return.

"Everyone, stay back, and stay quiet," Troutpool called as Estherfern stepped into the circle. "Honeybuzz, Weevilpaw, are you ready?"

"I'm not a very good singer," Weevilpaw chuckled. She rubbed snow out of her eyes and settled at the edge of the circle.

"You don't have to be," Estherfern said. "Just say the names clearly."

"I've never heard names like these," Troutpool muttered, tucking her tail over her paws.

"You wouldn't have," Estherfern said with a flick of an ear.

Weevilpaw, Honeybuzz, and Troutpool sat equal distance from one another, poised outside the circle. Scaleripple jumped out of the tree and joined Oilstripe. Wolfgaze and Anchovystrike lingered near Weevilpaw. Snow dusted the mushrooms and charms.

"The ichor isn't happy, I can already tell," Anchovystrike muttered. Wolfgaze put her tail to his muzzle.

"Predators of the Great Glowing Lands," Estherfern yowled into the snowy night. "We bind you to this place with your true names!" The four clerics closed their eyes. The song came naturally to Estherfern, embedded into her very being. It wasn't hard to teach it to her compatriots.

Luponthoth

Vulpo Thun

Strigart

But-oro

Rapendazera

Punai'kema

The gentle voices of the clerics rose through the snow in a soft, yet tense melody, like bird song. Estherfern dropped out of the song and opened her eyes. Oilstripe and Anchovystrike's hackles rose, their heads bouncing to sights only they could see.

As Honeybuzz, Troutpool, and Weevilpaw carried on the song, Estherfern yowled, "We know of your appetites! We know of your boredom! This land is filled with wicked spirits! We have formed their path to safety, and they'll think they can escape. Have fun!"

The cleric's song cut off as a violent gush of wind battered their voices, flinging snow into their eyes. Wolfgaze yowled, bracing herself against Anchovystrike. The leaves that decorated Oilstripe's pelt flew off. Estherfern's heart raced as the snow bit her nose. Yet a few moments later, the wind receded. Estherfern breathed deep. Scaleripple shook out his pelt while Honeybuzz shivered. The humming ocean made Estherfern's ears ring.

"Stay where you are," Estherfern warned her companions. Her fur spiked when a sudden realization washed over her. "Anchovystrike, close your eyes."

"Why?" Anchovystrike asked.

"Foxdung!" Weevilpaw suddenly cried, jumping with her back arched. "They're… from the forest! Watch out!"

"Anchovystrike," Estherfern yowled as something tumbled through the trees, "you see the unseen influence of the supernatural. If you see the Predators as they really are, you will go mad! Now close your eyes!" Anchovystrike obeyed just in time.

Terrified howls echoed through the forest. Black sludge dripped from the grass onto the sand. It tumbled faster and faster like a newly formed river, racing toward the circle. Oilstripe and Scaleripple scrambled back as the ichor slammed into the circle. It launched at Estherfern with a steaming, bubbling sound. Estherfern held her ground. The ichor plunged into the sand around her like a fox leaping into snow. It stained the sand black and burrowed deep, deep, deep.

Then the monsters came. They howled and shrieked and cauterwauled, running through the trees as fast as they could. There were darkhounds, thundering along with massive paws and bloody jaws, yipping like pups. There was forsaken prey, decayed and rotten yet moving and squealing just as they did in their final moments. Leatherwaste flopped and flew about, and something new, something without a proper name, some storm-spun bundle of dull brown leaves and glistening frost, slithered toward the circle.

"Stay down!" Weevilpaw yowled, belly dropping to the sand. All except Estherfern mimicked the cleric apprentice. The Spirits of Shadow raced alongside the trail of ichor and into the circle. They dug and clawed at the sand, following their lifeblood back into the depths. But they were the lucky ones.

Estherfern could not see them, but she could see their power unfold. Unseen talons snatched spirits by their backs and flung them into the sky. Eager, invisible jaws snapped and bit into the sticky flesh of the spirits. Something dragged unlucky spirits into the shadows, screaming. They sank into the earth before they reached the circle. They dissolved into steaming piles of ichor with torturous wails.

The world went white. The loudest, strongest clap of thunder Estherfern had ever heard reverberated through her skeleton and stayed singing in her ears. She couldn't see, she couldn't hear. Her skin buzzed. In a moment of clarity tucked within the chaos, Estherfern wondered if this is what her kits felt. A path without sight, without sound, heart pushing out of your chest, is a blessing compared to the fate that awaits the rot.

It took some time for Estherfern's vision to clear. She and her Clanmates were still standing, unharmed. The ichor and spirits were gone. There was no sign they had been there at all, save for a few mushrooms missing from the circle. The other cats groaned, rubbing their ears and eyes. They were alive. The spirits had left RippleClan.

Something drew Estherfern's gaze up. Clear shapes formed within the clouds, backed by a pale glow. Each cloud looked perfectly like its subject; a wolf, a fox, an owl, a hawk, a rat, and a cougar. Where their eyes would have been were balls of lightning, sparking and dancing, glaring down at the Clans in hunger.

The creatures of the glowing sky do not rule this land, but visitors cannot be denied. The stars shall extend their power, and the beasts shall fill their bellies. So it has been for you, so it shall be for all.

"Foampaw?" Estherfern gulped, barely capable of hearing herself.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Anchovystrike gulped. He still had his paws over his face.

"They're gone!" Weevilpaw cried. She ran into the circle and plowed into Estherfern. The old molly looked back to the clouds, but they were now a simple sheet of gray against black. Honeybuzz and Troutpool joined them, pressing against Estherfern.

"Is StarClan still watching over us?" Wolfgaze asked, hopping into the circle.

"They left when the ritual began," Oilstripe stammered, staring across the river, "but they've returned. They're watching from afar. I can't tell what they're thinking."

"They're on our side," Honeybuzz promised, waving the others into the circle. "I petitioned them myself at the last half-moon. We wouldn't have done this if StarClan disapproved."

"They may not have disapproved," Estherfern muttered, "but that does not mean they are proud."

"I think they are!" Troutpool chirped. "It was scary, but we've banished the spirits. We can walk our lands freely again. We wouldn't have saved the Clan without you, Estherfern." Troutpool nuzzled Estherfern, but the old molly still stared at the clouds.

"I don't understand you, StarClan," she whispered, not caring whether the cats pressed into her overheard. "You ask my God to send me here, you stand by while I summon your enemies, you allow me to draw the gaze of something far worse on your descendants. Why?" The stars shall extend their power… the voice in Estherfern's head had been as clear as when Foampaw last stood by Estherfern's side. Was it somehow better for the Clans to attract the attention of the Six Predators? Was it an earnest decision, made for the betterment of the five Clans? Did StarClan desire more power, more control, more souls?

Estherfern sighed. She would find no answers that night. She would be the one providing answers soon enough.

(Estherfern: 112, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Honeybuzz: 26, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Troutpool: 39, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Oilstripe: 82, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Wolfgaze: 13, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, good speaker)

(Anchovystrike: 13, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)

(Weevilpaw: 13, female, cleric apprentice, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Scaleripple: 31, male, warrior, lonesome, formidable fighter)

(Foampaw: 10, female, caretaker apprentice, troublesome, always wandering)

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skyscratch-wc · 8 days ago

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Skyfall Project Masterpost

This post is for the rehauled Skyfall Rewrite, now called the Skyfall Project. I am doing an overhaul of the lore I have built in order to tackle some fundamental issues.

This is the introduction post for Skyfall, a heavy rewrite of Warrior Cats with a whole new culture and social structure, beliefs, and some significant plot deviations (especially after the first arc). The goal of this project is to take the framework and characters or Warrior Cats and make a narrative that is more consistent, less ableist/sexist/xenophobic, etc. and remove the indigenous-coding of the series. I want to write a satisfying narrative that actually delivers while making the themes more relevant and less problematic.

The core of the plot is going to move away from StarClan and their prophecies and towards more concrete, cat political issues with a smattering of the divine and magic. I want to place more of an emphasis on SkyClan, both their downfall and then eventual return. I also want the different groups to actually feel like different groups with different cultures, levels of piety, special roles, etc.

Links will be added to this post as the project progresses

The Clan -> Shire Restructure

Anything tagged #wc skyfall au or #wc skyfall rewrite is outdated. All new content will be tagged #skyfall project.

I have heavily restructured the clans to have more ranks and paths for warriors. I have also renamed roles in an homage to Old English social structure names. As such, I have renamed the clans to shires. Sheriffs (shire-reeves) were pulled from the Thegn class, and thus the leaders are now Thegns. (Can you tell I’m a history nerd yet?). The different shires will be labeled as follows:

ThunderClan -> Thundershire -> #thunderkin

ShadowClan -> Shadowshire -> #shadowkin

RiverClan -> Rivershire -> #riverkin

WindClan -> Windshire -> #windkin

SkyClan -> Skyshire -> #skykin

StarClan/Dark Forest -> The Shining Paws -> #shiningpaw

[clowder name] + kin is the way the cats refer to members of other clowders. EX: "Fireheart is a Thunderkin". This is reference to their supposed descent from the legendary founders

The different shire roles are labeled as such:

Leader -> Thegn -> #thegn

Deputy -> Reeve -> #reeve

Medicine Cat (healing) -> Physician -> #physician

Medicine Cat (spiritual) -> Priest -> #priest

*new role* -> Mortician -> #mortician

*new role* -> Scribe -> #scribe

Warrior -> Churl -> #churl

Churl Roles (cats can hold multiple roles at a time):

Hunter -> #hunter, #master hunter

Artisan -> #artisan, #master artisan

Roamer -> #roamer, #master roamer

Caregiver -> #caregiver, #master caregiver

Keeper -> #keeper, #master keeper

Trailblazer (Thundershire only) -> #trailblazer

Tanner (Shadowshire only) -> #tanner

Sentinel (Rivershire only) -> #sentinel

Tunneler (Windshire only) -> #tunneler

Mediator (Modern Skyshire only) -> #mediator

Daylight Churls (Modern Skyshire only) -> #daylight churl

Scout (Ancient Skyshire only) -> #scout

Apprentice -> #apprentice

Kitten -> #kitten

Elder -> #elder

A detailed post of the roles will be posted in the near future and then linked here.

Inside a Shire

The Shires, unlike the canonical clans, do not live in a structured camp. There is a main camp where the Thegn's Den, Physician's Den, and Priest's Den are, but all other cats sleep within family units in dens spread around the territory, some further and some closer. Most cats have their dens very close to the main camp. The cats within the camp also sleep in family groups. For instance, at the start of Arc 1, Bluestorm shares a den with Whitestorm, Willowpelt, Darkstripe, and Graypaw.

Cats meet at the camp at sunrise to get the days news, groom each other, and generally connect with one another before the day begins. Patrols, training, and other such outings are also planned within this time frame. The shire will then go their separate ways and meet again at sunset to share anything they found during the day. Once the sun has set, the cats go to their family dens and spend the rest of the night bonding with their group until they go to sleep.

The Arcs

The arcs will be renamed and some condensed into one another in order to cut out parts of the canonical plot that are filler. I am personally not a fan of StarClan-driven plots, so many plots will be changed to be moreso about cat politics and the consequences of past actions.

Arc 1 -> follows roughly The Prophecies Begin. Fireheart joins the Thundershire and is their Thegn by the end of the arc.

Arc 2 -> follows roughly The New Prophecy. Except the journey is not about finding a new home, it's learning about the existence of the Skyshire and the darker history of the clans. This involves going back to the lake, where the clan’s ancestors first lived. The cats do move to the lake by the end of the arc due to human construction, but they didn't need the ancestors to tell them to leave. The arc ends with the Windshire Conflict.

Arc 3 -> A long super arc mashes together The Power of Three, Omen of the Stars, and parts of A Vision of Shadows. The clans are recovering from the events of The New Prophecy. Each shire has a cat with powers, they bring the Skyshire to the lake, and all clans are reunited at the lake. This arc will be called Rising Skies.

Arc 4 -> A whole new thing based around the characters of The Broken Code with plot elements from both A Vision of Shadows and The Broken Code. This arc will likely be driven by an especially bad winter then causing a cascading effect around the shires and the consequences of that. This arc would also feature Darktail and his cats in some capacity, since they drove Skyshire from the gorge (as a continuation of the prior arc).

Arc 5 -> Basically A Starless Clan, but adjusted as everything else is.

As a note, the Sisters and the Tribe of Rushing Water will not exist in this rewrite. These groups tend to be where the more problematic themes are centered and as such I don't feel comfortable having them as parts of the narrative. The characters from these groups may exist, but they would be in different social structures, etc.

So, where is this set?

One of the questions of Warriors canon is where is this series set? Presumably England due to the origin of the authors, but over the series more and more names, creatures, etc. appear in the series that do not appear in Europe, let alone in England.

In order to make things consistent (because I want to make it actually somewhat realistic), I will be setting Skyfall in Southwestern Scotland/Northwestern England. This allows for the ocean, hilly terrain, etc. Character names will be adjusted to match this environment.

Some Last Notes

This rewrite will include the ClanMew conlang being developed by @troutfur and @bonefall. It will also include a dialect of ClanMew, spoken by the cats in the Gorge. This will be fleshed out more as I develop the project. I may also include elements from bonefall’s warrior cats expansions, which are amazing.

If you have any questions about Skyfall, ask away! I’m always happy to answer asks. Although FYI responses may take a while.

#skyfall project #warrior cats #warrior cats rewrite #warrior cats au

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bonefall · 1 year ago

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I was wondering- with the clans more advanced nature and ability to deal with more serious conditions, how would a clan deal with a cat who had been declawed? Would they try and change some things to make things like hunting more accessible for that cat, and if so, what would they do? Would they use something like a clawed gauntlet or claw implants?

Absolutely adore your content by the way

Being declawed is a very serious disability for a Clan cat to have. "Accommodation" for a cat that is declawed is completely concerned with reducing the serious pain that this procedure would put them in; there is almost no way to help make hunting more accessible.

Just to repeat that; Declawing is a disability for a Clan cat. I'll be treating it as such.

I'm gonna be using a medical diagram below the cut to show you the problem!! So TW: DECLAWING IS A FINGER AMPUTATION, please do not hit "read more" if seeing anatomy and hearing of a cat in pain would upset you!

[ID: A diagram of cat paw anatomy, showing how a cat's claw is like a "shoe" around the end of a bone and displaying how the muscles connect.]

"Declawing" means removing a weight-bearing bone from the foot of the animal. The final digit of the finger is meant to be in-contact with the ground. For a crude analogy, imagine if someone removed a bone from your foot and made you walk on your tibia and heel-meat.

So from the VERY offset, a declawed cat in the wild would not be able to patrol very far without pain. In addition, they don't have a way to "grab" things anymore. Bringing this cat on a hunting patrol would be unhelpful at best and actively destructive at worst. They can't hunt, not enough to "pull their weight".

Gloves don't fix this, and there is no claw to put an extender on. BB!Cats have slightly beefier hand anatomy than irl cats, but they only have TWO digits. Declawing reduces them to just one.

Quick drawing;

A declawed paw is not a hand that can hold a struggling animal; they don't even have the digit to make a good pincer grasp. Hunting is so hard it's nearly impossible.

For the cat's health, so they can enjoy their Clan's territory as is their right, they might want to make "shoes," or, crude booties. Unlike humans, cats don't have a "wrist" that a glove can easily rest on, so shoes would need to be tied to the leg.

[ID: A cat wearing booties. Note the straps above the paw.]

This could be made out of leather or flax, with some sort of sole for padding. This is an accessibility device, though, so keep in mind this is something you'd need a craftsman like BB!Jessy for.

So generally, a declawed cat is the type that spends a lot of time in camp! With a little extra time, it's possible to modify the tools that Kitchen Patrol uses for this individual. A spoon's handle can be curled so it rests on the wrist. Instead of skinning an animal with claws, they could fasten a knife to the paw.

[ID: BB!Cat paws drawn with the accessibility tools mentioned above.]

So, if the cat enjoys helping out around camp, there's still ways that they can contribute if they would like to.

And lastly, Clan cats think this is the ultimate symbol of human cruelty. Sharpening one's claws (karrurrska) is EXTREMELY important to the mental health of a cat. It feels good, it exercises your whole arm to get up there and sccrrraaaatch, there's tendons, bones, and scent glands on that final digit.

Hearing that a kittypet has been declawed is evil to Clan cats. Beyond mwyrgna. The cuckoo kills its kin to get more food from its parents, the rat kills its young out of fear. What purpose could humans possibly have to mutilate a cat like this, besides delight in seeing them suffer?

It's the kind of concept that would invoke a lot of emotion out of Clan cats.

#clan culture #declawing #tw animal injury #tw medical discussion

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lucentclan · 1 year ago

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well! i wasnt expecting this-

I wrote a little snippit for this that I'll put it under the cut, I'm so upset over them you have no idea

despite the war between Lucentclan and Fernclan being over, Newtstar decides that he, Pepperflare, and Violethope will go patrol the borders one last time before the sun goes down. They don't realize the scent of rain or the clouds forming in the distance, as they're crossing the beach, rain begins falling heavily and weighing down their pelts.

"Newtstar!" Pepperflare calls over the now howling wind, anxiety pricking in her paws as the rain brings back unwanted memories of Sablepaw being washed away in a flood four moons ago. "We should really go back to camp! I don't have a good feeling about this."

Newtstars ears flick in acknowledgement, "we need to be sure that Fernclan isn't up to anything. I won't lose anymore cats to those fox-hearts!" He argues back, claws digging into the sand as he thinks of their previous medicine cat, Rippleclaw.

"No sane cat will be out in this weather!" Pepperflare insists, "Especially Fernclan cats! They hate water!"

"I agree with Pepp-" Violethope begins, her meow quickly cut off by a deafening crash and flash of lightning. In the distance, the sound of trees cracking and breaking echo down the mountains.

All three clancats freeze, heads snapping to the horizon where they see a massive wave of water quickly making its way down the hill, rocks, trees, and other natural debris coming along with it. The clancats barely have time to process what was happening before the water reaches them and sweeps them off their paws and into the unforgiving ocean. Their lungs fill with freezing saltwater as they cry out for starclan to save them to no avail.

Newtstar is the first to open his eyes, the yellow a sharp contrast to the darkness around him. Stars now shine in his pelt, and reflect in his eyes as he takes in the vaguely familiar area. He had been here when he lost his first life protecting his clan from a dog the same moon Rippleclaw had been found dead on Fernclans border. It had been nice to see the tom again to be assured that he wouldn't be alone, their starclan guide, and Newtstars own kin, Shardfoam being there to keep him company.

He sits and sighs, watching the water drip from is glimmering pelt and dissappear into the stars beneath his paws. He couldn't help but feel as if he had let his clan down.

Pepperflare and Violethope join him soon, appearing with splashes of salt water and gasping breaths that didn't take any oxygen. The she-cats meet eyes for a moment, confused as they look towards their leader.

They realize the stars at the same time, dismay filling them. Quietly, they step forward to sit beside their leader in quiet mourning.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way," A familiar voice says, a cream tabby tom stepping into sight. Sympathy reflecting in his grey eyes as he looks at the warriors. Beside the medicine cat is a younger spotted gray apprentice, Sablepaw, who is looking at them with the same sympathetic look.

"Rippleclaw! Sablepaw!" Newstar cries, standing. "Whats going on? We can't actually be dead, right? What about my other seven lives?" The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, needing answers. Beside him, Pepperflare tries to speak but just hacks up a mouthful of water. Violethope remains quiet.

Rippleclaw sighs, "Unfortunately there was no way for starclan to bring your body back, it was washed too far out to sea for it to be possible." He steps to the side, the area behind him now streching out into a vast area, stars littering ground. This was starclans hunting grounds. The medicine cat dips his head, tears in his eyes as his friends try to process their deaths, "Welcome to starclan, my friends. Here you can watch over and guide Lucentclan."

Down below the sky, Quailcall sits outside the medicine den, blue eyes watching the entrance of the camp. It's been far too long since the patrol had left, and the elder was starting to get a bad feeling. He looks up at the dark clouds as it stormed and shakes out his pelt before standing and turning to enter the den.

Sparkfire lays in a nest against the far wall, curled up tightly as she sleeps through the infection in her wounds. The she-cat twitches and whimpers in her sleep, shifting slightly. The tom silently makes his way to sit beside the nest, watching the slow rise and fall of Sparkfires back, half expecting it to stop at any moment.

Quailcall looks towards the entrance of the den once more, dread filling his belly. "Starclan help us." He says quietly before curling up close to the deputy and shuts his eyes in an attempt to sleep until the patrol returns.

sorry for the short fic but i wanted to write for this moon soo bad and got carried away.

What will Sparkfire and Quailcall do now?

#clangen #lucentclan #newtstar #pepperflare #sparkfire #sablepaw #rippleclaw #violethope #feel free to send asks or ask me to write more for a specific cat

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night-o · 8 months ago

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Into the Wild: Fire's glow AU

Previous parts: // 1

Lionheart entered Bluestar's den, moving gracefully but not silently. He announced his presence with a quiet greeting, one which his leader welcomed warmly. She had been expecting him to come by and report on the apprentice's progress, unaware of the additional news he was bringing. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim den, the bit of dying light that peeked through the entrance washed both him and Bluestar in a warm glow.

He had already visited Spottedleaf and the medicine cat covered the shallow cut on his neck with a thin layer of cobwebs and yarrow for infection. It likely wouldn't leave a scar but his chest still had the reddish tint of blood, only more noticeable against his golden fur.

"Ah, Lionheart, I see you're back from the training session with the apprentices. How are-" Bluestar cut herself off when she turned around and noticed the stale blood on her deputy, her relaxed demeanor immediately becoming more alert and her eyes turning sharp.

"Has there been an accident?"

"No, the training has gone well. Or, it was going well until we were attacked."

Bluestar immediately rose to her paws, a concerned look on her face as she asked more urgently. "What? Was it one of the other clans? Is anyone else hurt?"

Lionheart shook his broad head, his demeanor stoic but not particularly troubled. "No, it wasn't any of the clans and nobody else is hurt. All my injuries are superficial as well, the fight was quickly resolved albeit unexpected so deep in our territory. We were attacked by a loner, she got the jump on us but Tigerclaw and I subdued her."

His leader visibly relaxed, her bristled fur laying flat once more as she let out a small sigh of relief.

"I see, I trust you had no problem chasing her out after."

He hesitated here, a fact Bluestar quickly picked up on. Her ears perked up in interest as well as a hint of suspicion. "You did chase her out?"

"It was more complicated than that. The loner, Maple, is Firepaw's kin. His aunt."

"Ah..." Bluestar murmured, a surprised look on her face. It wasn't often Thunderclan dealt with outsiders or kittypets beyond just chasing them out, but she was under the impression that kittypets are separated from their mother and kin as kits. She never thought Firepaw might have a family he was close with before he joined the clan. She eyed Lionheart curiously, taking a more thorough look at the cut on his neck as well as his scuffed fur.

"I've never heard of a kittypet aggressive enough to attack an entire patrol, especially with senior warriors like you and Tigerclaw present." It was very rare that even apprentices got into fights with kittypets, the majority of them got easily spooked and were easy to chase out. Even loners avoided patrols.

"She was under the impression I was attacking Firepaw and reacted defensively. The wind was blowing downstream so we didn't pick up on her scent until she attacked and pinned me down."

At this Bluestar was visibly surprised, her bright eyes wide. Lionheart is a strong warrior, one admired by all the clans for his strength and prowess. His injuries were minimal but the fact that the intruder had him pinned spoke a lot of their power.

"But- is she, not a kittypet? Has she received some kind of training?"

"According to Firepaw she hasn't been a kittypet for a long time but I don't believe she received any training." Lionheart began, remembering the encounter. "She has experience but her technique was... Basic and predictable, had it been a real fight things would have gone differently."

"Honestly it's her size that makes her different. Bluestar this cat is bigger and heavier than both Tigerclaw and me, that's how she pinned me down. I can't remember seeing any clan cat reach that bulk." Lionheart was a big tom but when he got tackled by Maple it felt like crashing into a boulder. He has never seen a cat of that size, neither in the Clans nor the twoleg place.

The silver cat remained silent for a moment, carefully thinking over his words. This was an unusual situation but thankfully nobody had gotten seriously hurt and if Lionheart's assessment was correct, which Bluestar believed it was, then this loner posed no threat. "You said you didn't chase her out? Where is she now?"

"She left willingly but not before making demands. Maple said she wants to see our camp and observe how we live so she can be assured that her nephew is safe." Lionheart shifted on his paws now, seeming uncomfortable with the idea. "I told her I would bring the message to you before giving her an answer. Tigerclaw was sent to shadow her to make sure she leaves our territory"

"You did the right thing. I must admit, I'm curious about this loner..." Bluestar meowed thoughtfully, a faraway look in her eyes as she considered the situation. It has been two moons since Firepaw joined Thunderclan and he is adapting as well as she could have hoped for, a promising but not unusual apprentice save for his origins. Spottedleaf's words still echoed in her head, 'Fire alone can save our clan' but what did it mean? Was the prophecy really about the young tom?

"Bluestar..." Lionheart sounded concerned, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. "Surely you aren't planning to invite another outsider into Thunderclan?" He sounded skeptical and for a moment she grew defensive.

"Firepaw is adapting well is he not? During your last report you praised his progress and hunting skills." She shot back, waiting for his response.

"Firepaw is still young, he joined when he was little more than a kit. He can learn, and grow loyal to Thunderclan but a fully-grown loner is different. We know nothing about this cat or her loyalties." His voice was steady and firm, while the deputy didn't mind and even liked Firepaw, it was different to invite more outsiders. The clan wouldn't be pleased about it either.

"I'm not planning anything, for now. But I'd still like to meet this loner or yours so I can tell for myself what kind of cat she is." Bluestar persisted and just by the look in her eyes Lionheart knew there was no changing her mind, he could only advise her as he always had.

"I trust your judgement Bluestar but some cats won't accept this easily."

"Leave those concerns to me. And rest, I don't want you agitating your wounds unnecessarily, I'll take Tigerclaw and Whitestorm with me tomorrow to find this loner"

Lionheart nodded, leaving the leader's den and entering the camp clearing. The evening hunting patrol had just arrived just as Tigerclaw also stalked back through the gorse tunnel. He looked to be in bad mood and the deputy could sympathize. Loners, no matter who their kin is, had no place intruding on their territory. Once Tigerclaw noticed him, he made his way over to the deputy with his head held high but his tail twitching in irritation.

"I followed her until she crossed the border. There weren't any incidents." The brown tabby seemed irritated by the fact which made Lionheart's whiskers twitch in amusement

"Yes, I'm sure you would have appreciated the opportunity to sink your claws into something other than Riverclan patrols." The deputy went over to the fresh kill pile, picking out a mouse while Tigerclaw grabbed a sparrow. The two of them settled by the bush to eat their prey with the rest of the warriors who came back from the patrol, although they sat a bit further away from the rest to keep their conversations private.

"A loner is not welcome in our territory, it doesn't matter if they have kin within the Clan." Tigerclaw grumbled but seemed calmer now that things had settled and he was in the presence of his old friend. He started to pluck his sparrow, his scarred muzzle full of feathers.

"Bluestar seems to disagree. She wants to meet with her tomorrow and she wants you and Whitestorm as escorts."

Tigerclaw's fur prickled again at this and he shot Lionheart a disbelieving look which looked somewhat comical with his face full of feathers.

"She can't be serious, tell me she isn't planning on inviting another kittypet into the clan?" He seemed upset by this, a notion the deputy could understand considering everything that had happened with Pinestar.

"She seems curious but nothing is certain yet." Lionheart mused, taking a bite of his mouse and savoring the taste of fresh prey, thankfully food wasn't scarce this time of the year.

"I don't understand what she's thinking, it's bad enough we have one kittypet weakening our clan. The way things are going Thunderclan will be a laughing stock." The warrior tore into his sparrow a bit more aggressively than necessary.

"Maple doesn't look or smell like a kittypet anymore, I doubt anyone will notice." Although he had his reservations Lionheart would support his leader and defend her actions. They could disagree and argue in private but the clan needed them as a unified front during these times.

"And we both know Thunderclan needs new blood. It will help keep the future generations strong and healthy." Tigerclaw grunted at that but didn't continue arguing, knowing that Lionheart was right, adding new blood to the clan became necessary after a while. However, that didn't make him like the idea any more.

"I still don't like it, Riverclan and Shadowclan are growing too bold lately. We cannot afford weakness while we're surrounded by enemies." The tabby tom grumbled, licking his muzzle clean. Lionheart agreed with the sentiment even if the two warriors had different reasons for their concerns.

"Let Bluestar worry about the other clans. The next gathering is approaching, we'll get a better idea of the situation then." The two toms finished their meal in silence, splitting up once their prey was finished. The camp was already bathed in the deep shadows and the last hints of the sun above the horizon were disappearing, they could worry about the future tomorrow.

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Fed and tired, the three apprentices were ready to settle down in their own den.

Ravenpaw settled down early, exhausted and bruised from the training. Firepaw couldn't help but feel sorry for his friend, battle training would probably be exhausting for him too if he had Tigerclaw as a mentor. The black apprentice actually did okay when his mentor wasn't breathing down his neck but whenever Tigerclaw tried engaging him in a fight it was almost as if he would freeze. His reactions became slower and his moves sloppy.

Graypaw's loud complaints about his paws hurting brought Firepaw back to reality, his ear twitching in amusement at his friend's antics.

"Maybe your paws would hurt less if you stopped tripping over them." He teased, chuckling when Graypaw gave him a betrayed look.

"S'not my fault, if you had big paws like me you'd be tripping too!" He protested as if his clumsiness was to be blamed on his awkward growing proportions. Getting a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned on Firepaw making the other apprentice yelp as he got buried beneath his weight and fur. "Not so nice is it?"

"You're suffocating me! Get off, you tub of lard!"

"What's that?" Greypaw grew curious now and that gave the ginger tom enough time to crawl out from underneath him. Before he could respond he heard Sandpaw hiss at them to quiet down from the other side of the den, sharing a disbained look with Dustpaw as they settled down to get some rest.

Firepaw's ears burned in embarrassment but Graypaw didn't seem bothered by their attitude. He didn't even look their way as he started lazily cleaning his fur. The Sun was completely gone now and most of the camp had settled to sleep, they should too if they wanted to rest for tomorrow's patrol and training.

Firepaw went to settle into his own nest for the night, although not before flicking one of Graypaw's ears in retaliation which earned him a displeased groan. He gave his friend one last teasing glance before laying down and tucking his tail around his body, letting his body relax for the first time since coming back to the camp.

Now that he was alone with his thoughts, the ginger apprentice couldn't help but think back on the chance meeting with Maple today. He never thought he'd see her again, or any of his kin for that matter, and now that he was reminded of her voice and scent, he couldn't help but feel incredibly lonely. The clan was starting to accept him, but he knew he'd never be one of them like Graypaw or Ravenpaw were, they weren't his kin.

It was a distressing thought, always being the outsider in the back of everyone's heads. He didn't like entertaining such doubts but he almost wished he could have asked Princess to come with him. When he closed his eyes he could imagine the meows of his siblings or his mother's comforting scent as they fought for her attention. Firepaw's thoughts started to drift as his limbs grew heavy and his breathing evened out, and when he fell asleep he dreamt of a heavy familiar body pressed against him as someone groomed his ears the way they did when he was a kit.

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//AN: Another chapter, I still don't think I'll turn this isn't a fic but it's kind of fun to do snippets

I know that canon Firepaw wasn't having these thoughts as much but I figured seeing a family member would trigger that same loneliness he got from seeing Princess in the books. It just happened a bit early here

I also hope I can make Tigerclaw seem more... Human I guess. I never really liked how the series portrayed him as an irredeemable villain because I felt like they could have made him more interesting. I want to put more emphasis on how close he is with cats from the clan and how much of a betrayal his actions really are.

#warrior cats #firestar #warriors au #warriors #fireheart #my art #firepaw #oc #bluestar #lionheart #tigerclaw #tigerstar #greypaw #greystripe #fic

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