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rippleclan · 25 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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rippleclan · 2 months ago

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RippleClan: Moon 71

Rattlepelt went missing for a few days.

[Image ID: Mitespark, standing in the distance, calls, “Rattlepelt!” Rattlepelt faces away from her in the foreground. Under Rattlepelt, it says LEVEL UP! BLOODTHIRSTY -> THOUGHTFUL.]

Mitespark didn’t know her former mentor well. She knew a Rattlepelt, but not the Rattlepelt that now wandered through RippleClan. The first Rattlepelt had grown more angry, more paranoid as the moons passed, and only a group of kittens saw why. The new Rattlepelt was supposed to be the Rattlepelt the older RippleClan cats knew, the artisan who enthusiastically talked about her crafts and showed off songs and dances to kits.

That Rattlepelt had yet to appear.

Instead, the Rattlepelt that now inhabited the furless gray molly had gone off to “collect weaving materials” four days prior and had yet to return to camp. Patrols scented her around the territory, so she hadn’t left. Yet no one could approach her. No one could find her, even if they wanted to. Spikecrash and Paleseed said to “give her space”, to let her process all that had unfolded.

Mitespark decided Rattlepelt had had enough space.

“Rattlepelt?” Mitespark called as she roamed RippleClan territory, searching for the furless molly’s scent. “Rattlepelt, where are you?” Birdsong was her only reply. Pollen clogged her nose and made her sneeze. The late spring blossoms sought to destroy Mitespark’s nose, even as they dazzled her with newfound life and color. The final moments of sunhigh dragged at Mitespark’s eyelids, but she forced herself to stay alert. She wasn’t going back to camp without her mentor!

“Rattlepelt!” she yowled once more. She held Rattlepelt’s name out, screeching until her throat burned. Birds startled and flew from the branches overhead. Mitespark coughed when her throat finally gave out. Now the forest gave no reply.

“Rattlepelt, please come home,” Mitespark begged, dropping her head. “Your mothers miss you. I want to get to know my real mentor.”

Silence.

“No one is mad at you anymore! We understand you weren’t in control of yourself. The Shardling made you angry.”

Silence.

“No one knew the truth! We couldn’t have known you were possessed! We would have helped you sooner if we knew!”

Silence.

“I don’t know what to tell you! I don’t know how to help you!”

“Mitespark, please. Leave me be.” Rattlepelt’s voice came from the trees. Mitespark scanned the late spring leaves and buds for signs of gray skin. She couldn’t see her.

“RippleClan is worried about you!” Mitespark yowled, trotting along the trunks. “We just want you to come home. The kits are still staying in the apprentice’s den while we clean the nursery, but we’d get them back in sooner if you were there to help.”

“The kits don’t want to see me. I almost killed them.” Mitespark spun around. The voice was coming from the trees behind her, now.

“That was the Shardling, though.”

“Was it? Really?” There, in the short pine! Copper eyes watched Mitespark stumble through the trees. “The Shardling didn’t steal my body from me. I didn’t stop it from hurting people.”

“We forgive you.” Mitespark ran at the tree. She pounced on the trunk like a squirrel and launched herself into the lower branches. Rattlepelt sat on a branch tail-lengths above. Dirt scuffed the raw wound on her shoulder. Her skin looked red from the sun.

“I don’t,” Rattlepelt huffed. “I’ll come home when I’m ready.” She laid across her branch and rested her head away from Mitespark. Mitespark steadied herself. She jumped onto Rattlepelt’s branch, sending needles fluttering down. Rattlepelt turned her head further from her former apprentice.

“Your wound doesn’t look good,” Mitespark muttered. “Troutpool and Honeybuzz can clean it up for you.”

“They shouldn’t have to,” Rattlepelt said, ears lowering. “Weevilkit was right to give me this. Can you imagine how it feels to know you would have killed a kit had someone not stopped you?”

“I can’t say I do,” Mitespark gulped, “but Rattlepelt… you don’t have to forgive yourself yet. We just want you to come home. We’re worried. Don’t the kits deserve to know who you really are?” Don’t I?

Rattlepelt sighed deeply. Her tail tip twitched, dangling off the branch like a broken twig. She stared at nothing, thinking of everything.

“I won’t be pleasant company,” Rattlepelt sighed.

“You don’t have to be,” Mitespark promised, setting a paw on Rattlepelt’s back. “Just come home with me.”

And so she did.

(Mitespark: 13, female, artisan, charismatic, good mediator)

(Rattlepelt: 54, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

Lightningkit hides behind Cobaltkit… who hides behind Puddlewhisper.

[Image ID: Lightningkit stands behind Cobaltkit, who stands behind Puddlewhisper. Puddlewhisper calls, “Mollies?” Under Cobaltkit, it says + NEW SKILL: LOVES TO EAT. Under Lightningkit, it says + NEW SKILL: ALWAYS WANDERING.]

(Lightningkit: 1, female, kit, self-conscious, always wandering)

(Cobaltkit: 1, female, kit, quiet, loves to eat)

(Puddlewhisper: 37, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, natural intuition, ghost sense)

Clammask and Halibutdusk’s litter is the first apprenticed this moon; Potterypaw to Wildclaw, Moonpaw to Scaleripple, and Vervainpaw to Lemmy.

Weevilpaw seeks to understand her semi-secret ability by training under Honeybuzz, getting decor from Troutpool as a gift. Ravenpaw will be an artisan under Mitespark with Silverpaw and Wolfpaw as codekeepers under Puddlewhisper and Waspdawn.

Although their mother and brother are gone, Harvest’s kits become apprentices and life moves on. Halibutdusk mentors Anchovypaw, Elmsprout teaches Currentpaw, Rapidleaf guides Yarrowpaw, and Splashtuft teaches Billowpaw.

[Image ID: There are three images, each with a particular litter. They are all apprentices now, with Weevilpaw sporting petals in her fur. Under each cat is a LEVEL UP update discussing the changes to their stats, written below.]

(Potterypaw: 6, female, caretaker apprentice, insecure, loves to sing)

(Moonpaw: 6, female, warrior apprentice, faithful, quick to help)

(Vervainpaw: 6, female, codekeeper apprentice, ambitious, loves nature, quick to make peace)

(Weevilpaw: 6, female, cleric apprentice, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Ravenpaw: 6, female, artisan apprentice, nervous, picky nest builder, quick witted)

(Silverpaw: 6, female, codekeeper apprentice, strict, always asking questions, quick witted)

(Wolfpaw: 6, female, codekeeper apprentice, thoughtful, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Anchovypaw: 6, male, warrior apprentice, playful, curious about StarClan)

(Currentpaw: 6, male, caretaker apprentice, loving, constantly climbing, has lots of ideas)

(Yarrowpaw: 6, female, warrior apprentice, thoughtful, stares at fire)

(Billowpaw: 6, male, historian apprentice, thoughtful, active imagination)

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rippleclan · 2 months ago

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RippleClan: Moon 72

Wolverinekit doesn’t understand why everyone seems so far away and is sad to learn from Honeybuzz and Weevilpaw that her eyesight is failing.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Weevilpaw talk to Wolverinekit and Estherfern. Estherfern says, “Well? Fix her.” Under Honeybuzz, it says LEVEL UP! CONSTANTLY FIDDLING WITH TOOLS -> SKILLED TOOLSMITH. Under Wolverinekit, it reads + PERMANENT CONDITION: FAILING EYESIGHT. Under Estherfern, it says - CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH.]

The anniversary of RippleClan was by far one of the greatest things Weevilpaw had seen in her short life. She had never imagined the world could be so warm back when she was a kit. The entire Clan, kits and elders and all in between, frolicked in the softer sands that lined the stunning ocean. If that day was meant to celebrate all RippleClan meant, it succeeded.

Tallowpaw chased Littlekit around the sand, both toms laughing and yowling their heads off. Rabbitjoy, Mitespark, Lavendertwist, and Potterypaw performed a show along the edge of the waves, depicting the war with AshClan and the loss of Downstar’s first life. Half the Clan watched them as they shared tongues and mused over their own memories of the events (Halibutdusk mused on the danger in romanticizing war while Clammask reminded her mate to just enjoy the show). Estherfern sat with her kits, probably giving them some grand speech on the God who brought her to RippleClan and the nature of StarClan (Weevilpaw understood she agreed to a life of spiritual discussion when she became an apprentice, but really, did Estherfern not know how to talk about anything else?).

Weevilpaw, meanwhile, traipsed through the waves, purring whenever fresh foam slapped at her legs. Some of the petals that she stuck in her fur (ever since Troutpool put them in at the cleric’s meeting, a gentle reminder of RippleClan’s first cleric) drifted off into the ocean, but that was alright. Weevilpaw could always get more!

Off to the side of the festivities, past where James dipped Lightningkit and Cobaltkit in and out of the water, past where Downstar and Weedfoot laughed at the old father’s antics, Wildclaw and Rattlepelt gazed off into the glistening blue. Rattlepelt laid in the sand, but kept her head high, letting the light bounce off her eyes. The water soaked the tail of Rattlepelt’s fox pelt, but the artisan didn’t seem to mind. There was a softness to her posture that Weevilpaw had never seen. She couldn’t help but approach them.

“If this is what every anniversary is like,” Weevilpaw chirped, catching Wildclaw’s eyes first, “I never want it to end!” Weevilpaw hopped out of the water, shaking out her pelt. Petals drifted into the wet sand, which stuck tight to Weevilpaw’s dripping legs.

“My siblings and I were just kits during the first anniversary,” Wildclaw laughed. “All four of us pretended we were great whales hopping out of the water.” Wildclaw hopped over Rattlepelt as Weevilpaw approached. She leaned into Weevilpaw and added, “I asked Oilstripe earlier. We’ve got a lot of ghosts celebrating with us today.” Were Harvest and Robinkit in their numbers?

Weevilpaw glanced toward Anchovypaw and his littermates. They were all talking with Rapidleaf, practicing some basic battle moves. Anchovypaw whipped around Currentpaw, batting and kicking his brother, utterly confident in his body. They seemed to be coping with their losses… still, did Anchovypaw struggle to look at Rattlepelt the same way Weevilpaw did? Did he hurt when he saw the bite marks on Rattlepelt’s shoulder, the scars yet to fade? Still, she was smart enough to know the true scars wouldn’t fade if they were ignored.

A premonition of Rattlepelt stood out of her real body and strolled deeper into the crowd. Her pensive gaze steadied Weevilpaw’s nerves. She stood in the premonition’s path as it vanished. When the idea to leave came upon Rattlepelt, rather than an easy escape, she saw Weevilpaw before her.

“Are you keeping your wound clean?” Weevilpaw asked.

“I’ve been making sure she does,” Wildclaw promised.

“I don’t know when you became the responsible one,” Rattlepelt sighed, purring slightly at the way her mate stood tall.

“I’ve always been responsible,” Wildclaw insisted, once more taking a seat by Rattlepelt. “Just not in the way others consider responsible.”

“Weevilpaw’s father would say otherwise,” Rattlepelt scoffed. Wildclaw shoved the fox pelt’s head over Rattlepelt’s eyes. Rattlepelt laughed for the first time in Weevilpaw’s memory.

“I’m glad you’re doing better, I really am,” Weevilpaw sighed, swallowing the nerves that bit at her confidence. “You… seem more like the cat Honeybuzz told me about.”

“I feel more like myself,” Rattlepelt said, shoving the fox pelt back to its proper place. “When we tell the other Clans the truth, I’ll be sure to thank you and your friends publically. Thank you for stopping me.”

“We just wanted to keep everyone safe,” Weevilpaw chuckled awkwardly. Downstar had asked all of RippleClan not to discuss the powers of the three kits for now, giving the other clerics time to figure out how exactly they possessed said abilities. Just having RippleClan ask about her strange, hard-to-trigger premonitions was overwhelming enough. Weevilpaw did her best to take the brunt of the hard work for Anchovypaw and Wolfpaw, but she couldn’t handle the curiosity of four more Clans on her shoulders!

“Maybe someday we’ll be able to joke about you almost taking off Rattlepelt’s shoulder,” Wildclaw chuckled, nudging her mate’s wounded shoulder.

“A responsible cat would know better than to even suggest joking about that,” Rattlepelt huffed. She gently kicked Wildclaw’s leg and sent her tumbling into Rattlepelt’s fox pelt.

“You’re the artisan,” Wildclaw chuckled, happily lounging on top of Rattlepelt. “You should recognize how good a story this is.”

“Maybe I’ll see it when I’m not traumatized,” Rattlepelt scoffed.

“Weevilpaw!” Honeybuzz called from the other side of the beach. Drumtooth and Elmsprout watched over most of Estherfern’s kits while Honeybuzz stood with Estherfern and Wolverinekit to the side of the celebration.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rattlepelt,” Weevilpaw said, backing up. “Your true self, I mean.” Weevilpaw left the pair to their gentle bickering and weaved through the crowd. Honeybuzz waited patiently for her beside their fellow cleric.

“Sorry to pull you from your partying,” Honeybuzz said, touching noses with his apprentice, “but Estherfern has asked for our help with Wolverinekit. With Yarrowpaw’s dead eye, you’ll need more lessons on eye care than I had at your age.”

“Is something wrong with Wolverinekit’s eyes?” Weevilpaw asked.

“Care to explain?” Estherfern sighed, careful gaze burrowing into her daughter’s long fur.

“You’ve been busy!” Wolverinekit huffed, puffing up like her angry namesake. “I thought it would fix itself!”

“I’m not a healer, Wolverinekit, I’m a priestess,” Estherfern said with a smooth shake of her head. “I can’t help you with these problems. You should have spoken with Honeybuzz sooner.” Technically, Estherfern was a cleric now, not a priestess; she should have been learning medicine, just like Weevilpaw! But a shared glance between Weevilpaw and Honeybuzz silenced the building frustration.

“So tell Weevilpaw what you told your mother and I,” Honeybuzz said.

“Everything started looking funny last moon,” Wolverinekit grumbled, kicking the sand. “I can’t see inside the nursery at night, it’s too dark. I need to really look at you to really see you.”

“Any issues with blurriness or color?” Honeybuzz asked. He peered into Wolverinekit’s eyes, searching for the sort of visual differences Weevilpaw once noticed in Yarrowpaw.

“I don’t know,” Wolverinekit huffed. “How do I know if what I see is what you see?”

“What color do you think I am?” Honeybuzz asked.

“Your head or your body?” Wolverinekit sighed. “Momma, I don’t like this. Can we stop?”

“Darling, we need to figure out what’s wrong with you,” Estherfern sighed. “Be patient.” She licked the top of Wolverinekit’s head. Weevilpaw hummed softly, studying Estherfern. Who was this strange ‘priestess’?

“Weevilpaw, perform the vision tests we gave Yarrowpaw when she started her apprenticeship,” Honeybuzz said, stepping back. Weevilpaw shot lightning through her paws. Time to work!

“Wolverinekit, I want you to stare right at Honeybuzz,” Weevilpaw ordered, moving next to her mentor. “I’m going to move, but I don’t want you to look at me, keep looking at Honeybuzz. Tell me when you can’t see me anymore.” This test fascinated Weevilpaw when Honeybuzz first showed it to her after her apprenticeship, gauging the severity of Yarrowpaw’s condition so Rapidleaf could adapt her training. She just hoped she did it right….

Weevilpaw crept to the side, step by step. Wolverinekit kept her eyes on Honeybuzz. Estherfern stared at Weevilpaw while she moved. Weevilpaw tried not to make eye contact.

“Stop!” Wolverinekit called. Weevilpaw shared a glance with Honeybuzz. She stood at an angle to Wolverinekit. The young molly should have been able to see Weevilpaw move until she was standing beside her. Weevilpaw was only halfway there.

“Are you sure you can’t see me move?” Weevilpaw asked, batting a paw in the air.

“I can’t see you unless I look at you,” Wolverinekit huffed, breaking her gaze from Honeybuzz. Her chaotic fur drooped. “That’s… not normal, is it?”

“They’ll fix it,” Estherfern promised, quickly pressing her nose into Wolverinekit. Wolverinekit nuzzled her mother absentmindedly. Estherfern tucked Wolverinekit close to her. “Well? Fix her.”

“There’s more we need to understand about her vision,” Honeybuzz explained. “There are a few more tests we should conduct. The problem is, Wolverinekit hasn’t been injured, and she displays no other signs of illness from what I see. I don’t know enough yet to say for certain, but there’s a chance this could simply be part of her blood.”

“What’s the cure to that?” Estherfern huffed. Honeybuzz took a long, slow breath.

“Weevilpaw, can you take Wolverinekit back to the festivities?” Honeybuzz asked. “She might like bothering Trumpetspore for a while.”

“You’re talking about me,” Wolverinekit snapped, jumping away from her mother. “I should hear what’s wrong with me!”

“It isn’t about that, Wolverinekit,” Weevilpaw groaned. “I’ll explain it to you later.” She waved Wolverinekit over. Wolverinekit glared at Honeybuzz, but followed Weevilpaw anyway. Honeybuzz lowered his voice and moved closer to Estherfern. Weevilpaw was grateful Wolverinekit couldn’t see the anger blossoming over her mother’s face.

“How bad is it, Weevilpaw?” Wolverinekit asked as she and Weevilpaw strolled toward the ocean. Waspdawn jogged past the two mollies, his daughters at his heels, laughing. Waspdawn looped around Drumtooth and Elmsprout, but Yellowkit and Stormkit charged into Boughkit, Brightkit, Foamkit, and Thunderkit. The group collapsed into a pile of flailing limbs and cries of mock outrage. Weevilpaw’s tensed shoulders eased as she sat with Wolverinekit along the edge of the water.

“My best guess?” Weevilpaw sighed. “If you’re like Yarrowpaw, I don’t know if you’ll ever see things like everyone else does.” Wolverinekit nodded softly, pulling her tail close. Weevilpaw wrapped her tail around the younger molly. “That might not be all that bad! I know it might be sad, but there’s still a lot you can do. The Clan will make sure you can achieve whatever you want to achieve.” Behind them, Estherfern’s pelt prickled and her lips curled slightly as she spoke with Honeybuzz. Wolverinekit remained unaware.

“I used to see more,” Wolverinekit grumbled. “Do you think I’ll go blind like Yarrowpaw?”

“She’s only blind in one eye,” Weevilpaw said.

“You know what I mean!” Wolverinekit huffed, the prickles in her pelt matching her mother.

“I really can’t say what will happen,” Weevilpaw groaned as the ocean licked her paws. “I promise that I’ll learn whatever I can to help you out, cure or no cure, blind or not.” Wolverinekit just stared at Weevilpaw. Weevilpaw did her best not to break away from the stare. She coughed awkwardly and said, “I helped you once, right? Made sure you got out of the nursery with your littermates. Don’t you think I can help you again?”

Estherfern stalked away from Honeybuzz, tail thrashing. This time, Wolverinekit noticed her mother’s posture. Her head followed Estherfern all the way back to her kits. She settled down amongst her rambunctious kittens, head turned away from Wolverinekit and Weevilpaw. Weevilpaw could guess what Honeybuzz told her.

“I trust you, Weevilpaw,” Wolverinekit mumbled.

“Thanks, Wolvy,” Weevilpaw sighed.

(Weevilpaw: 7, female, cleric apprentice, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Wildclaw: 64, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

(Rattlepelt: 55, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Honeybuzz: 20, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith)

(Wolverinekit: 4, female, kit, skittish, always asking questions)

(Estherfern: 106, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

During the anniversary celebration, Tallowpaw plays with Littlekit too long in the sun. He gets heat exhaustion while the small kit gets heat stroke.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz yowls at Tallowpaw and Littlekit, “Get in the shade, now.” Under Littlekit, it says + CONDITION: HEAT STROKE. Under Tallowpaw, it says + CONDITION: HEAT EXHAUSTION.]

(Littlekit: 3, male, kit, skittish, splashes in puddles)

(Tallowpaw: 8, male, historian apprentice, nervous, splashes in puddles)

(Honeybuzz: 20, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith)

Wolfpaw, Waspdawn, Silverpaw, and Puddlewhisper go hunting.

[Image ID: Silverpaw, Puddlewhisper, Waspdawn, and Wolfpaw patrol together. Under Silverpaw, it says + NEW SKILL: QUICK WITTED.]

---

The bounties of summer, with extra herbs to fatten meals and strengthen the Clan, did not mean less hunting for Wolfpaw. As Waspdawn loved to stress, growing careless on the hunt was always a bad omen, regardless of the season. While summer meant more time to memorize the various intricacies of the warrior code, Wolfpaw and Silverpaw still had to join their mentors on hunting patrols. Codekeepers didn’t just sit around camp waiting for codebreakers, after all.

“If the historians say we can’t hunt squirrels for a while,” Silverpaw asked as she strolled alongside Puddlewhisper, leading Waspdawn and Wolfpaw, “does that mean we have to investigate every dead squirrel we come across?”

“If the death looks suspicious,” Puddlewhisper admitted, “but if someone were to kill a squirrel, I doubt they would leave the body lying about. Still, they’d have no reason to. There are many other creatures we can hunt. We can allow the squirrels to regrow their numbers for a while. We don’t need more squirrel pelts.”

“Lavendertwist noted an increase in the rat population to the southwest,” Waspdawn explained, catching Wolfpaw’s eye. “I think you’re both ready to hunt down rats. They’re not much different from mice. They’re simply sleeker, quicker, and a bit more vicious. This should help you learn how to identify rats with disease. Sometimes we’re asked to investigate things like that when the clerics or caretakers need a paw. That reminds me, Puddlewhisper, we should ask Honeybuzz if the apprentices can sit in on diagnostic lessons with Weevilpaw.”

As Waspdawn went on, Silverpaw trailed back, walking on Wolfpaw’s other side. She copied Waspdawn’s face with a comical grimace. She mouthed along to his words, crossing her eyes in the process. Wolfpaw slapped her sister’s shoulder, but couldn’t stop herself from giggling. Waspdawn cleared his throat. Wolfpaw’s spine arched. She glanced back to her mentor with big, awkward eyes and half-tilted, apologetic ears. To her surprise, Waspdawn froze with a few paws off the ground, mouth stuck mid-word. He tumbled to his side like a knocked-over pot.

“Sorry!” Wolfpaw yelped, squeezing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry! It’s been happening more when I’m nervous. I’m sorry, Waspdawn!” Waspdawn, broken from his spell, scrambled back to his feet. Silverpaw and Puddlewhisper stared at Wolfpaw and further burned her pelt.

“Are you alright, Waspdawn?” Puddlewhisper asked as her brother shook out his pelt.

“I barely felt it,” Waspdawn said as Wolfpaw ducked her head. “Still, could you and Silverpaw give me a moment with Wolfpaw? We won’t be long.” Wolfpaw burned hotter as the other two mollies slowly continued on their path. Silverpaw’s feather-covered tail brushed Wolfpaw’s back as she walked off. Wolfpaw kept her eyes firmly locked on the well-trod grass.

“I wasn’t trying to freeze you,” Wolfpaw promised, heart pounding. “I promise I’ll be more careful where I look. I know it could be dangerous to freeze someone on accident. I’m sorry I can’t control myself like Weevilpaw or Anchovypaw. I won’t let this happen again.”

“You don’t need to panic, Wolfpaw,” Waspdawn said. “I’m not upset.”

“But someone else could be,” Wolfpaw gulped, “or I could freeze a Clanmate during a battle on accident and get them killed! Or I look at someone while we’re swimming and they sink to the ocean floor!” Wolfpaw wouldn’t even open her eyes now. “I know right now this wasn’t a problem, but it can’t keep happening. I have a responsibility to use my stare wisely. I can’t brush this aside.”

“That might be true,” Waspdawn sighed, “but Wolfpaw, you do remember you’re only seven moons old, right?” Wolfpaw risked opening her eyes. Waspdawn’s paws peeked into the top of her vision. She carefully lifted her head. Waspdawn sat in front of her, blinking slowly. His half-tail tried to reach his paws, but failed, leaving it awkward at his side.

“Why does my age matter?” Wolfpaw asked softly.

“You’re an apprentice,” Waspdawn reminded the fuzzy gray molly. “You’re more than allowed to make mistakes.”

“Not with this,” Wolfpaw huffed with a hard shake of her head.

“If you panic yourself over a mistake this small, you’ll never master your ability.” That did nothing to stop the burning in Wolfpaw’s blood. She shoved her head back down, but Waspdawn hooked his paw under her chin and forced her to look up. “I bring up your age, Wolfpaw, because at this point in your life, it is your responsibility to learn and make mistakes. Regardless of the sort of talents you possess, you can learn from incidents like this and master your skills.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Wolfpaw mumbled, only managing to stare at Waspdawn’s chest rather than his careful gray eyes. “If I had frozen the Shardling earlier, Harvest and Robinkit might not have died.”

“Your powers saved the lives of my kits and every other cat in the nursery,” Waspdawn reminded her, ducking his head to once more look Wolfpaw in the eye. “You helped Weevilpaw fight Rattlepelt when she was possessed. When I heard what your sister saw in her premonition, I had nightmares for days on end about what could have happened had you not intervened. That’s two times you’ve saved my sons and daughters. You were still a kit when that happened, and you still did more than anyone would have asked you to. You’ve already done enough, and I’m sure you’ll continue to impress me. You can afford to give yourself grace as you train.” Wolfpaw took a deep breath. Waspdawn copied her. The pair held their breath like Paleseed had shown them, two separate lessons coming together in one moment, and then they let it go.

“It’s hard to know how to practice my stare,” Wolfpaw admitted, itching under the sustained eye contact. “I don’t even know why I have it in the first place.”

“I may not understand it,” Waspdawn said, standing, “but if we work together, I think we can come up with ways to hone it. Let’s catch up with our sisters.” Wolfpaw took another big breath and nodded. She followed her mentor along Silverpaw and Puddlewhisper’s path, easing out the anxiety prickling her fur.

(Wolfpaw: 7, female, codekeeper apprentice, thoughtful, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Silverpaw: 7, female, codekeeper apprentice, strict, always asking questions, quick witted)

(Puddlewhisper: 38, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, natural intuition, ghost sense)

(Waspdawn: 38, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)