#shes not pawing and yowling about her mouth hurting

[greaterfleshmachine]

something I didn't expect with my cats kidney disease is how much she is peeing now, which is really horrible because she has 0 issues with peeing on just anything. She's the worst kind of fucking sprinkler. I have had three robotic litter boxes set up for her plus four stainless steel litter bins. exotic piss locations!! but fuck goddamn, the corner of the blanket that happens to be hanging off the couch looks really pissable 😼

[monochromaticbeans]

I've never written an "x reader" before, so at my daughter's suggestion, I decided to give it a whirl. Here's a short bit of fluff featuring our Kazutora. 🧡🐯

***

The clinic was actually quiet for once, the sound of the air conditioning broken only by the occasional rustle of papers or a bark from one of the back kennels. You had just finished up with a particularly wiggly Dachshund when the front door chimed, announcing your next visitor.

And there he was: Kazutora Hanemiya, standing awkwardly in the doorway, clutching a battered cat carrier as if it might explode.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat, glancing down at the carrier and then back at you. “Found another one.”

Of course he did.

Kazutora had become a semi-regular at the clinic over the past few months. His name was already written on your unofficial “stray savior” bingo card, right next to the likes of old Mrs. Tanaka, who brought in her tiny army of feral cats, and the delivery man who always spotted injured pigeons.

You smiled as you gestured for him to come in. “Let’s see what we’ve got this time.”

Kazutora set the carrier on the exam table with the sort of care usually reserved for handling priceless artifacts or sleeping dragons. The cat inside responded with a low growl—definutely not the happiest of campers.

As you coaxed the tabby out of the carrier, Kazutora leaned back against the counter, folding his arms. He still looked a bit out of place here, his bell earring and tattoo clashing with the clinic’s sterile walls and the staff’s pastel scrubs.

“Have you been working at the pet shop long?” you asked, glancing at him as you gently restrained the cat.

“A few months,” he replied. “Mostly stocking shelves and cleaning up after the animals. Not exactly glamorous, but it’s… nice.”

You nodded, carefully examining the tabby’s coat. “Bet you’re good at it, though. I’ve seen how patient you are with these guys.”

Kazutora shrugged, looking down at his boots. “It’s not hard. Animals don’t ask for much, you know? Just food, care… a little kindness.” His voice softened. “It’s easier than dealing with people.”

You paused, meeting his gaze. “People aren’t all bad, Kazutora. You just have to find the right ones.”

He didn’t reply, but there was a flicker of hesitation and something—hope, maybe—in his eyes.

Once the tabby was settled, you pulled a flyer from the stack by the desk and handed it to him.

“We’ve got a feral and stray cat program,” you explained. “It’s a trap-neuter-return initiative. Helps control the population and keeps the kitties healthier. You should mention it to the pet shop—maybe they can partner with us.”

Kazutora studied the flyer, his brow furrowing. “You think it’ll help?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said. “Programs like this make a huge difference. Plus, it’d give you guys more resources for the cats you take in. Win-win.”

He nodded slowly, tucking the flyer into his pocket. “I’ll talk to them about it. They're pretty cool about stuff like this.”

Kazutora stepped closer as you took the cat's vitals, watching intently as you checked her eyes, ears, and teeth.

“She’s pretty thin,” you murmured. “Have you been feeding her long?”

“A couple weeks,” he said. “She wouldn’t come near me at first, but… I don’t know. Guess she figured I wasn’t gonna hurt her.”

“That’s a big deal,” you said, glancing at him. “Earning a stray’s trust isn’t always easy.”

He shrugged again, but you caught the faintest hint of pride in his expression.

As you moved to check the cat’s paws, she squirmed, letting out a sharp yowl. Kazutora instinctively reached out to steady her but stopped halfway, looking uncertain.

“Here,” you said, guiding his hands. “Hold her like this—gentle but firm. Don’t let her feel like she’s trapped.”

He followed your instructions, his movements awkward but careful. The cat let out another half-hearted growl but settled in his grasp.

“You’re a natural,” you teased, offering a soft little smile.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

By the time the cat was back in her carrier, Kazutora was leaning against the counter again, watching as you typed notes into her medical chart.

“You’re good at this,” he said suddenly.

“At what?”

“Everything,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “The animals… talking to people… making them feel safe. It’s cool.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment. “Thanks. You’re pretty good at it yourself, you know.”

Kazutora frowned slightly, as if the idea didn’t quite sit well. “I just… don’t want them to feel alone.”

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. “They don’t. Not when they’re with you.”

For a moment, the room felt still, his unspoken thoughts hanging in the air. Then he cleared his throat, looking away.

As he gathered his things, you handed him a bag of food samples and the tabby’s aftercare instructions.

“Take care of her,” you said with a smile.

“I will.”

“And don’t forget about the stray cat program,” you added. “I’m serious—it’ll really help.”

Kazutora nodded, his hand patting the flyer in the pocket of his jacket. Then he hesitated, his hand lingering on the door.

“If… if I ever need help with this stuff,” he said quietly, “can I call you?”

You grinned, pulling a business card from the desk and scribbling your personal phone number on the back before slipping it into his hand. “Anytime.”

Kazutora stared at the card for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded, a small, genuine smile breaking through his usual guarded demeanor.

“Thanks,” he said, a flicker of warmth in his golden eyes. “See you around.”

[fallenclan]

hot grass scorched his white paws, making him limp slower and slower by the second. his eyes felt heavy, the ash from the surrounding underbrush finding its way into them. soot covered his pelt, weighing him down even though it bore no weight. a far away sounding yowl broke the deadly silence of the fiery forest. hope.

"just keep moving," he rasped to only himself; there were no birds singing, no mice rustling leaves, only the crackle of embers finding new things to eat away at. "somebody is going to help."

his clanmates would save him. then everything would go back to normal. a dark body thundered into view, shouting to the struggling tom. as the dark cat leaped over a fallen log, the soot-covered cat crumpled onto the ground.

"no, no, we don't need to tell him," the tom recognized the voice of hopethistle sounded miles away as he lay comfortably. where is the fire? lee must have saved me.

the tom opened his eyelids slowly, wincing as he tried to lift his head towards the medicine cat. she spun around towards him, away from her conversation with silverbelly. the older gray cat blinked slowly while the younger brown cat had eyes that brimmed with worry.

"oh, how do you feel, ripplefade?" hopethistle hurried over to her patient. "hungry? feeling hot?"

ripplefade simply shook his head. as he opened his mouth to speak, the rasp that came out surprised him by how unrecognizable it was. "thank you," he muttered. "is lee out in the clearing? i'd like to thank him for saving my life."

the two medicine cats exchanged a glance that confused ripplefade. he attempted to get to his tired feet so he could go do it himself. these darn cats worried too much. a walk into the clearing wouldn't kill him.

"ripplefade!" he jumped at silverbelly's commanding voice. "lie back in your nest. you'll mess up your bandages!" she hurried over to the injured cat and lowered him to his nest.

"i just want to see lee!" he retorted but laid back down.

"h-he," hopethistle walked up beside silverbelly. "he died in the fire."

ripplefade stared at her. this wasnt a funny joke! lee is a hero and shouldn't be joked about. but she didn't look like she was joking..

he blinked. "what? he squeaked out. "he died? saving me?" the silence that followed answered the question.

lee was dead. and it was all his fault.

.......................................................................................................

uh oh survivors guilt.. i want to continue this but i have things i need to do rn. cliffhanger tehe

-jellyfish (i forgot i cant find the dang emoji on pc but i dont want to restart soooo)

AUGHGHHGHG MY HEART...... i just know ripplefade loses sleep at night thinking abt Lee. this hurts so bad

[residences-of-the-darkforest]

Dark Forest Resident: Sunsplash

Aliases / Nicknames: Mama, Mama-lion

Gender: she-cat

Sexuality: bisexual

Family: unnamed mother, unnamed father, Sageeye, Willowcall, Birchlake, Yewclaw (daughters), Gorsepool, Seedfoot, Poppytail, Nettlestream, Pinebranch (sons), Pheasentstripe, Webtrot, Runningtooth, Hollowpaw, Hawkkit, Snowkit, Tigerkit, Mudleaf, Honeysplash (granddaughters), Tulipheart (grandson), unnamed mate

Other Relations: unnamed mentor

Clan: ThunderClan

Rank: warrior

Characteristics: very protective, optimistic, enjoys going on and on about her interests, usually in a great mood, incredibly defensive of her kits, leaving bodies to be eaten by predators

Murder Motive: protect her kits

Number of Victims: 36

Number of Murders: 36

Murder Method: violently maiming

Known Victims: Harestrike, several unnamed Clanmates

Victim Profile: those who hurt her kits in any way

Cause of Death: adder bite

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story: 

She was a good mother, who only ever did what was best for her kits.

Her heart broke in two when Gorsepaw ran up to her, crying that his mentor had yelled at him for goofing off. She held him close, comforting him as he sobbed into his fur.

He was only six moons old, for StarClan's sake! Harestrike couldn't loosen up a little bit? She confronted him in the centre of camp, but as furious and defensive as she was, Harestrike was too stubborn to apologize, reiterating that he was in the right to mentor his apprentice however he wants.

Over the next moon, Gorsepaw would go to her over and over again, needing her comfort. She had tried joining the training sessions, but had to be banned from it because she kept rushing in to protect Gorsepaw whenever he was in the slightest bit of trouble, once nearly clawing an older apprentice that got the upper-paw on him.

One day, Sunsplash couldn't handle it anymore and followed Harestrike when the tom went on a solo hunt.

She demanding he walk with her to the training sessions and do to her exactly what he had done to her son--how tough he is will settle if he's too rough on Gorsepaw or not.

Harestrike, rolling his eyes, complied.

During the mock-battle, Harestrike began to jeer insults, a tactic of his. Sunsplash was able to ignore it. That is, until the insults turned to her kits. Sunsplash saw red and tore at Harestrike, claws unsheathed. He was dead in a matter of heartbeats.

Sunsplash was horrified at what she had done, racing back to camp. She opened her mouth to tell everyone, but no words came. She could hardly believe what was happening. She slunk to her nest, eyes wide, waiting for someone to get her, to accuse her, to exile her...

Her breath caught in her throat when she heard cats yowling Harestrike's name.

They had found him dead--killed by a fox, they claimed, after finding his partially-eaten corpse. It must have found Harestrike's body and chowed down.

Thank StarClan!

No, she thought quickly. They wouldn't be helping her with such a horrible crime. She should be ashamed, appalled, anguished.

But she couldn't help but notice how much happier Gorsepaw became with his new mentor. After every training session, he came running to her, a bright smile on his face rather than tears, and he would babble on and on about what a wonderful day he had.

If Harestrike had lived, her son would have been miserable.

Perhaps it was for the better.

From then on, Sunsplash would kill anyone who threatened her kits. It started off as those who inarguably deserved it. Abusive mentors, an enemy warrior who nearly killed them in a battle. But as time went on, her reasons grew. Anyone who so much as said a bad word against her kits--or later grandkits--anyone who gave them an attitude, anyone who so much as looked at them wrong. They all ended up dead.

Due to her immense love for her family, it's to no surprise that she was incredibly worried when Tulipkit went missing. She searched for him, desperately calling out, and found him at Snakerocks.

He smiled when he saw her. Something poked at the rocks by his feet.

Sunsplash rushed over to save him.

Additional Information: 

--Saw the base and thought it gives Mother energy, and thus the story was born.

Base is by Sippinonsoup on DeviantArt

--Based on a Clangen design from a post a while ago.

—Joking insults and friendly teasing don’t count, it’s only if the other cat means it, says it seriously, or if it clearly affects her kit.

--Hollowpaw, Hawkkit, Snowkit, and Tigerkit don't have full names because I figure not everyone is gonna make it to warriorhood.

—I was originally going to say that she does discipline her kits, just doesn’t like others doing it, but nah I think she should be more flawed. Her kits can never do wrong ever, they are perfect.

[warriorstickers]

Cavernclan, Moon 2: Newleaf

“I, Leader of Cavernclan, call upon our warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of our noble code, and our way of life, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn.” Goldstar looked down on Talonpaw, a proud look in his eyes. This was only the second new warrior he had made in their home here, Oaknettle being the first. Talonpaw had proven to be well spoken and loyal, and he was glad this day had come. “Talonpaw, do you promise to uphold our code, to protect and defend your clan, and our way of life, even at the cost of your own life?” He was glad to see the confident look in her eyes, and the steadiness of her voice, as Goldenstar heard her answer ‘yes.’ “Then I will give you your warrior name!” He announced loudly, wanting his voice to echo through the caves. This was a moment of victory for her and for the whole clan. They were surviving! “From this moment on, you will be known as Talondrift! Let Starclan acknowledge your bravery and pride!” He watched her stand up even taller as he gave her a new name, and he closed his eyes to bask in the clan’s cheers of her new name, from his perch of boulders in front of his den. It sounded like victory, against the clans who had tried to end them. He makes eye contact with his mate, and Locustgaze smiled back at him.

~ Locustgaze made her way above ground to make dirt. There were places to do so in the tunnels, where it could be buried, but she enjoyed the rare chance to get out and smell the fresh air. She still remembered the days where they lived in fresh air daily, and while the tunnels had become their strength, she still enjoyed a breeze on her fur. Don’t get much of that as an Elder anymore. Elders spent most of their time in the underground cave where the camp lay. 

She heard a snap at the same time the stench hit her nose. She finished what she was doing, and crept back towards the entry tunnel closest to her. Her dark pelt hid her well in the night, even above ground she was a shadow. The badger, about to enter her clan’s tunnel, was not.

She charged them, making no noise, and letting her claws tell them all they needed to know. Based on the angry and pained response, she knew her claws had sunk home in its rump. Begone, you mangy beast! Elder or not, no threat to her clan was getting in the tunnels while she was around to stop them!

Suddenly her ears rang as her head spun, and she felt herself hit the ground, before she had even processed having been struck with a huge paw. She grinned, as the badger fled, and tried to bring herself into a sitting position, only to find she couldn’t. One paw was hanging in a way that she knew was incorrect, and would probably hurt once the adrenaline wore off. She flicked her ear to rid some of the liquid that had gathered on her head from getting into her eye. She tried to take one step forward, and crumpled to the ground again. The ground and her fur was beginning to feel wet, and she knew it wasn’t good. I don’t think herbs can fix this one. She huffed out a chuckle. She had survived a near total clan murder, only to be murdered in the night by a single enemy. Still, she wouldn’t have wanted to go out any other way than fighting. Goldstar is going to be angry. She thought of her mate last, before she lost consciousness. 

~

Goldstar clamped down on the warrior’s scruff in his mouth until he tasted blood, and dragged her, despite her shocked sounds. The clan assembled to see what was going on, having heard his yowling,and hers. He stopped dragging Cherryfreckle when they were both in the center of camp, and everyone in camp gathered around them. He barely saw them, though he was glad they were here. He was going to make an example of her! “A clan dies without their Medicine cat! Without Glowfish, all of us may not have lived to reform a clan! None of us would have lived this long at all!” His words had even more vitriol, as he thought of his dead mate. What would she say if she had been here to witness this? “You know who the true killer of your kit was, and so does your mate!” He hissed. He was tired or her rudeness towards the Medicine cat that had kept them all alive, after witnessing all the carnage they all had, while she was just an apprentice. “If I hear you talking disrespectfully to Glowfish again, I’ll banish you! You don’t have to like her, but she’s your Medicine cat, and that demands respect!” His sides heaved with his anger. So what if some of his outburst was misplaced due to grief? So was hers, and it had gone on long enough. 

“I-I’m sorry.” Cherryfreckle mumbled weakly, keeping low to the ground and making no attempt to meet his gaze. A small trickle of blood flowed from where he had dragged her by the scruff. She will see Glowfish to treat it, and she will be grateful, or Starclan help me! He didn’t want her to say sorry to him, but to Glowfish, who was hiding in her den, crying after she had caught wind of Cherryfreckle’s cruel words. The Medicine cat was still a kit in many ways. She'd had to grow up and shoulder a mountain of responsibility far too fast.  

As Goldstar watched Cherryfreckle’s mate Burntheart shoulder his way to the front of the group, he could feel tensions had risen too high. He flicked his tail to dismiss the group, and made his way to his den. Now both he and Cherryfreckle had taken their anger and greif out on someone who didn’t deserve it. And neither of us will feel any better for it. 

~

Oaknettle winced with each step, and was glad that most of the clan wasn’t awake to see his wincing. He couldn’t show weakness in front of them. Yet his twisted paw really did hurt. It irritated him to be out of commission for even a day. Unlike some of his lazier clanmates, he found just laying about in camp to be utter boredom. A warrior didn’t get to be clan leader by laying around on their laurels! 

He ducked into the Medicine cat den -really more of an alcove- and called to Glowfish. “Hey, Glowfish! My paw needs fixin’!” He called, waiting for the tiny molly to make her way over. Hurry! 

“Your paw? What happened to it?” She asked, and began to look over his elevated front leg. He raised his eyes and rolled them. Couldn’t she just give him something for pain? No blood or bones showing, it was an open and shut case, even to him! 

“Twisted it while I was on the surface.” He replied, moving it away from her prying eyes a little. Did she need to be close enough to breathe on it? 

“While walking?” She prodded carefully at the paw, and Oaknettle bit his tongue to avoid hissing. 

“I fell down a steep bank in Mossclan territory, while I was just scoping things out.” He lied. He had actually leapt over a log and landed wrong. “I’m actually impressed I wasn’t more injured, considering how far I fell. I think it’s my strong build.” 

“Uh-huh.” Glowfish responded, clearly not as easily convinced as he had hoped. “Well, just give it a few days rest, and you’ll be just fine.” 

“Are you sure I can’t patrol on it? The clan needs me out there.” He boasted. Patrols were always less successful if he wasn’t there. 

“No, you cannot. Stay off it.” Glowfish said firmly, and shook her head. “Though I’m sure a strong Tom like you won’t need anything for the pain?” She didn’t wait for him to respond, dismissing him instead. “Right. Well, rest up!” 

Feeling fully vexed, Oaknettle left the den, heading for his nest. 

~

Reedburr led his patrol, consiting of of Burntheart and the new warrior Talondrift, out of the tunnels and into the moonlit surface of Hayclan territory. They were here to hunt, and it seemed Starclan was going to help them. As soon as they surfaced, the scent of a kill was heavy in the air. “Let’s check that out.” He told the other two quietly, motioning them forward with his tail. They both nodded, and fell in at his flanks, and they began to weave themselves through the tall wheat field of Hayclan territory, towards the mouth-watering scent. However, as they got closer, the delicious scent of prey began to be obscured by a more foul scent. He paused and looked back at the other two, and he could see in their faces they recognized it too. Fox. He started them moving again, more cautiously this time. Peering through the tall plants, he could see a dead goat, probably from a nearby farm a Hayclan territory, and a fox gorging himself on it. It looked like he hadn’t been at it for long, given how much was left. “That could feed the clan for quite a while.” Talondrift’s voice whispered from behind him, and he winced. Quickly Reedburr checked the direction of the wind with his whiskers. They were downwind, so the fox wouldn’t smell them, or more pressingly, hear Talondrift. Tahnk goodness! “She’s right.” Burntheart agreed softly. “Right.” The Deputy nodded, and turned around to face his two companions. “We are going to steal the prey. Burntheart and I will work on chasing the fox off, and Talondrift, you work on dragging the prey back towards our tunnels.” He waited for the other two to nod in agreement, and the red Deputy turned back around and sunk into a hunting crouch. He bunched his muscles, testing the ground, then sprang forward with a yowl. The goal wasn’t to surprise the fox, but to scare it off to avoid fighting if possible, so being loud would aid them now. The fox spun in fear, snarling and fluffing its pelt, right as he took a swipe at its face with his claws. He felt it sink home, just as he watched Burntheart’s dark pelt lock onto the fox’s flank. It screeched, and he hissed at it in return. It was bigger, but it was outnumbered. With the two warriors working together, they could dance around it, one herding it away from the prey while the other could aim blows on its flanks to keep it moving. It was working! Until they heard the scream of a cat. Both warrior’s paused in their assault, to see an even bigger fox back where Talondrift was, her tail locked in its jaws. She screeched as the fox shook her by her tail, which was beginning to darken with blood. “There was a pair!” Burntheart’s wide eyes looked panicked as he looked on the scene, though the smaller fox had fled now. “We’re abandoning the prey! We need to help Talondrift! Hurry!” Reedburr ordered, and didn’t wait for the other tom before he rushed the larger fox. As the two tom’s slashed the foxes legs, they got him to drop Talondrift, who was able to stand shakily. “Grab her! Let’s go!” Ordered Reedburr. The red and dark grey tom rushed to the side of their young clanmate, and braced her on either side. Her legs still worked, but the pain seemed to be making her a bit wobbly. With their help, they were able to get her into the tunnels, where they headed back to camp. 

[antclan-blogs]

MOON 15

Hushstep has a stomachache. Rivernose and Daisyiris have been fighting a lot lately.

This moon’s story under the cut!

“—Well, if YOU had covered for me on patrol like you said you would, we wouldn’t be having this argument at all!” Daisyiris hissed, stalking away from Rivernose as the two cats squabbled. Lately, it seemed like all they did was fight.

“Oh I’m sorry, did Slightstar die and make you leader? In case you’d forgotten, I don’t have to do everything you tell me!” Rivernose shot back angrily as he followed the she-cat towards the warriors’ den.

“Well, you do when you PROMISE you’ll do them.” Daisyiris huffed. “You knew I had a bad cold, but you still put me on the patrol anyway. That’s the end of the story.”

Rivernose scoffed. “I didn’t promise you anything! All I said was I would TRY to keep you off it, but Badgerdust and Chaffinchbounce were training their apprentices!”

Daisyiris sighed. “So? You could’ve had a perfectly good patrol with just you, Mossgleam and Sunleopard!”

Suddenly, Hushstep thrust his head into the warrior den with anger blazing in his eyes. “Would you two shut up? I feel sick listening to you argue over nothing all the time!” The medicine cat hissed.

Rivernose shot Hushstep a venomous glare. “Stay out of this!” He growled. “Daisyiris needs to learn that the world doesn’t revolve around her.”

Daisyiris looked ready to pounce on Rivernose. She practically hummed with fury as she scuffled her paws in the dirt, claws unsheathed.

“You’re telling me I’m selfish now? Who was the one who brought you poppy seeds when you were injured last moon? Who was the one who told Gladepaw stories about how brave you are when he was a kit? Who was the one who brought you fresh bedding every day for weeks because she wanted to make you like her?” Daisyiris hissed, tearing up a little.

Rivernose opened his mouth to retort out of default, but closed it again once he had registered what Daisyiris had said. “…What?” He asked quietly.

Daisyiris turned towards Hushstep, who was standing in the den with wide eyes. “Can you give us some privacy?” She mewed, and the medicine cat left.

“What was that last part?” Rivernose asked again, more urgently this time.

“Nothing important.” Daisyiris looked at her paws.

“No, what—“ Rivernose was cut off by the arrival of Gladepaw, who crashed into the den and swivelled his head from side to side.

“Oh, it’s just you.” The young apprentice mewed with relief. “I came back from training and heard yowling. Thought the camp was being attacked.”

Daisyiris looked stricken, but breathed out slowly and let her fur lay flat. “Sorry, Gladepaw. We’ll be quiet.”

The pale young tom nodded with a frown. “Alright. No more fighting, though. Warriors should stick together.”

With that, Gladepaw turned tail and trotted out of the den. Rivernose watched him leave wistfully.

“Since when was a little apprentice wiser than us?” He asked Daisyiris with a shaky laugh. But Daisyiris didn’t appreciate his joke. Instead, she turned away coldly and shrugged.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Chaffinchbounce?” She suggested darkly, before turning and leaving with a noise of disdain.

Rivernose watched her leave, hurt and confused. The thought of his growing relationship with the handsome deputy Chaffinchbounce almost made him smile, but the fight with a cat whom had once been his friend made him want to curl up in his nest and hide away forever.

Why was Daisyiris being so strange? And why had she brought up Chaffinchbounce?

i don’t like seeing my babies fight 😭 there may be a reason why daisyiris is so jealous of rivernose’s relationship with chaffinchbounce, as y’all are gonna see in a couple moons…

[kaycatkit]

I made a short story about Redtail and Runningwind with Sandkit being born bc I love them

Also on my Ao3 so check it out there too

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Runningwind’s tail twitched as he stared at the nursery entrance. It had been a long time since he had come back from dawn patrol to find that Redtail had started to kit. Now, at sunhigh, he still wasn’t allowed in to see his mate.

Worrying made him feel heavy. Redtail had been yowling from inside the nursery and it had stopped only a moment ago.

Beside him, One-eye sat patiently with her tail intertwined with his in silent comfort. “It’s been a while. Does it take this long?” Runningwind asked his mother, standing up, paws itching with impatience.

Her whiskers twitched in amusement. “It’s completely natural. I mean, look at Robinwing. This is her third litter and it took just as long. He’s got all the help he needs in there.”

He nodded, but didn’t sit back down, instead pacing back and forth in front of One-eye. “He’s been antsy this past quarter moon, but I didn’t think the kits would be here so soon.”

“Kits never listen to their parents,” she joked with a chuckle. “This is only the beginning.”

Runningwind was just about to force his way into the nursery, Spottedleaf appeared through the brush with a warm smile on her face. He rushed forward, turning up dust beneath him. “Is he alright?” Runningwind demanded.

Spottedleaf purred loudly. “They’re fine. He wants to see you.” Having permission, Runningwind pushed past her, reminding himself to apologize later, and into the den.

Redtail laid in the middle of the nursery, surrounded by the other queens. He emitted a fresh, milky scent and smiled when he spotted Runningwind. “Come here,” he murmured softly, his voice hoarse.

Runningwind complied and touched noses with his mate. Redtail purred and his eyes looked down as he uncurled his tail from his side. A pale ginger kit pummeled his side, her paws opening and closing with tiny claws.

Runningwind’s mouth fell open in shock as he stared at the kit. He leaned down and breathed in its warm scent. “We have a daughter..” he whispered in awe before looking back up at Redtail. “We have a daughter.”

“We do,” Redtail laughed, happy tears building up in his eyes. His fur was disheveled and there was an underlying smell of blood. Runningwind laid down in the nest, curling his body around his family.

“Are you okay? Is she?” Runningwind fretted, licking his mate’s face all over.

“We’re fine. She just got a little.. stuck.” Redtail explained with a shudder. “Great StarClan, it hurt.”

Runningwind said nothing and nuzzled his shoulder. Between them, the she-kit unlatched herself and let out a wail, her tiny muzzle scrunching. Redtail tried to push her back, but she refused and mewed. “So much fire in her already. Have you thought of any names?” Runningwind asked, nosing the kit as she fought furiously to wiggle around.

“No,” Redtail admitted. “I wanted you to name her.”

“Really? She’s the only one, are you sure?” Redtail nodded. Runningwind stared down at her, taking in the sight. She was a tabby like himself and had no defining marks on her body that he could see. “She is the color of sand. What about Sandkit?”

Redtail purred and looked down at her. “Sandkit is perfect.” He leaned down and rested his muzzle on her wriggling form. “Our daughter, Sandkit.” Runningwind laid his head on Redtail’s neck and closed his eyes with a pleased sigh. They were fathers now and he couldn’t wait to see how Sandkit would grow.

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Dark Forest Resident: Blackstar

Aliases / Nicknames: Blacknettle, Black

Gender: she-cat

Sexuality: pansexual

Family: unnamed mother, unnamed father, Stone (brother), Applekit (daughter), Spiderstorm (mate, formerly)

Other Relations: Wolftail (mentor), Gorsemist, Rushpelt, Hawktooth (apprentices)

Clan: Shadowclan

Rank: leader

Characteristics: trained in the Dark Forest, wants a secure home

Murder Motive: wants to be leader so that she can never lose her home again

Number of Victims: 5

Number of Murders: 5

Murder Method: suffocating, drowning, neglecting, poisoning, tearing

Known Victims: Violettail, Fernpelt, Applekit, Breezekit, Sunstar, Coneburrow, Heatherdusk

Victim Profile: the deputies, her kit, anyone that could get her into trouble

Cause of Death: back of neck ripped out in battle

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

Black was on her own since she was a kit, when her mother and brother died to sickness after she fought off a fox that had bitten Stone, causing the both of them to get an infection.

Black struggled to find food, or at least catch it. She only got by because kind loners were nice enough to share with her, and when Twolegs left their kittypet’s food outside.

Black only got a few mouthfuls of one dark blue bowl when a fat kittypet stormed out of his den, hissing at the young kit to shoo. Black was terrified, but hungry, so she stood her ground and hissed. The kittypet had loomed over her, and raised his paw to bat at her head.

That’s when another cat, perched on the fence, yowled for the tom to leave the kit be. He leaped into the garden and charged. The kittypet returned to his den before the loner even reached him.

The loner introduced himself as Green. He seemed only a few moons older than Black, and offered to teach her to hunt. Black accepted, and the two became quick friends. They lived together for another several long moons, and at last the nights didn’t feel so lonely. Black fell asleep in the protective embrace of her friend, feeling a warmth she hadn’t remembered feeling in a very long time.

But all good things cannot last.

Three rogues found them after they had caught a rabbit. They challenged them for it. Black wanted to run. Green chose to fight, whispering to her that if they let mean cats push them around all the time, they will never find a true home. 

The rogues were worse than simply mean cats. During the fight, Green was killed, and Black badly injured. She was chased away without being able to so much as say goodbye.

Bleeding heavily and about to pass out, Black hardly processed the new scents, or being lifted. She woke up in a warm, unfamiliar den. She was in Shadowclan’s medicine den, she was told. 

Black instantly began begging for them not to hurt her. Shocked, the medicine cat explained that they had to remove her tail, as it was too badly injured, and wrapped the rest of her wounds to prevent infection. He added that if she wanted, she could stay with them. She was old enough to be an apprentice, which meant a warrior would train her to hunt and to fight.

Black thought of Green, and agreed.

She became Blackpaw, and as her injuries and grief gradually faded, she became intrigued by the ‘warrior life,’ wanting to know everything. Wolftail was more than happy to tell her everything she wanted to know.

Then Blackpaw had a dream of a grey-and-white scarred tom. He didn’t tell her his name, but explained that he was an ancestor of the Clan, and saw great potential in her. He offered to train her better than Wolftail ever could so that she could reach it. Blackpaw took up the offer without a second thought.

She was exhausted often, training most of the day and all night, but seeing the amazement in her mentor’s and the other apprentices’ eyes at her skill made it worth it.

She was still afraid of the others, especially the older cats, but more and more, her confidence grew. She began to laugh with her denmates instead of hiding in the shadows, and raised her chin when the adults prasied her instead of ducking her head.

Her night mentor expressed pride as well, worry too. He said how happy he was to see her thrive, but also how afraid he was that she might be chased out of her home again.

She could be chased out?

He told her that she wasn’t born with them, and because of that, she was only wanted because she was a useful meal-provider. The moment she was no longer needed, she would no longer be one of them.

She asked him what she could do.

He told her to work hard and prove herself worthy.

That seemed easy enough, but in spite of her effort and how happy her Clan seemed to be with her, Blackpaw never felt safe. Any moment, she knew they would abandon her.

The first murder was a accident, a quarter-moon before she became a warrior. She killed someone while training in the Dark Forest. She was told not to feel sad, that he was from an enemy Clan anyway, but Blackpaw didn’t visit again until the night after she earned her warrior name. 

Her night mentor challenged her, asking if she really thinks she wouldn’t have been the one bleeding onto the ground if her opponent had been stronger.

Even so, she fought feebly during the next training session with another apprentice. Angry, her mentor made sure she woke up bleeding for that.

The next time she trained, she was fiercer, tearing at her enemy until she yowled in pain. She earned a scar across her foot for that one, but she was praised.

Blacknettle became more harsh now, in night training and in the real battles. Her Clanmates admired her, and it wasn’t long before Spiderstorm asked to be her mate.

Her mentor told her that it wasn’t enough. He heard Starclan warriors talking, and they were planning on sending a sign to convine the leader to rid of the filthy rogue in their midst. The only way she could stay was to become their leader. Was she willing to kill for the position?

To keep her home, she was.

She first had to become the deputy. Requesting an apprentice, she received Gorsepaw, a shy tom who worked hard. 

Not long after she began training him, did she find her Clanmate, Heatherdusk, training in the Dark Forest as well. They were made to fight each other, and Blacknettle nearly tore out Heatherdusk’s throat if her own mentor hadn’t pulled her out of the way in time.

Heatherdusk didn’t tell anyone what had happened, but became extremely bitter toward Blacknettle. Her mentor told her that Heatherdusk must be silenced. If she does decided to speak up, Blacknettle could be exiled.

So, by his instructions, Blacknettle placed some deathberries into a lizard and told Gorsepaw to give it to Heatherdusk.

The berries were found. Luckily, though, it was put off as a declaration of war by Windclan. The two wars went to battle, during which Violettail, the deputy, was struggling against a powerful tom twice his size. Blacknettle saw, and decided to turn away.

She couldn’t become leader if the deputy lived.

She felt bad, but it would be worth it. She lost her homes enough times, Violettail got to grow up and live a full and happy life.

Fernpelt was chosen as the next deputy. He died shortly after, his body found in the carrion place. Too many rats had gotten to him to see what had happened.

The next wasn’t a deputy, not even a warrior. 

Blacknettle became pregnant. She couldn’t be happy. Her mentor let her know that. If she was in the nursery for six moons, she couldn’t be deputy for just as long! How many things could happen in such a time? What if the current deputy died, or the leader, and someone else was chosen instead of her?

Blacknettle knew what must be done, she planned for it during her pregnancy, so that no sadness at the fact remained when the time came. She suffocated her kit without joy or sorrow. The only thing she felt was the knowledge that she must become leader, at any cost.

After that, she returned to patrols, helped fix dens, and aided in training the apprentices. Anything to look as best as possible. Everyone else chalked it up to wanting to distract herself from her grief.

Then she went after Coneburrow, and yet again someone else was chosen. So she pushed herself, working harder and harder.

On one patrol, she found a young kit. He could hardly stand, and begged her to help him. She left him there. She didn’t kill her own daughter just to take in another kit.

But a second patrol found the starving tom and took him to the camp. The next morning, he was found dead. He had probably been sick, and no one noticed. Blacknettle couldn’t risk him telling anyone that she had abandoned him. They would never choose her as the deputy then.

Her mentor suggested another route to take. What if she became close friends with the deputy, and killed the leader? Sure, it would be tougher, with more lives to rid of, but it would be the better option as well.

So Blacknettle began offering Sundusk prey, explaining that he seemed tired. He admitted that he was, so she offered what help she could give. They worked like that more and more, Blacknettle waking extra early and taking any job that needed to get done, all the while saving prey for Sundusk and listening as he complained about the hard work. 

Their relationship built so that Blacknettle no longer listened out of necessity, she did it because hearing Sundusk’s voice soothed the worries her mentor soothed.

It was nothing more than a good friendship, but Spiderstorm, seeing their bond, broke things off with Blacknettle. He wasn’t harsh or angry, their time as mates had truly ended when Applekit died. They only stayed together for the comfort.

While Blacknettle bonded with Sundusk during the day, at night she and her mentor worked to figure out how to kill Stonestar so that he lost all of his lives at once. Going to his den and slitting his throat? She would definitely get caught. She would have to be away from the camp so no one could see the deed, but she would also have to make sure she wasn’t the only one that was outside when it happened.

At last, the opportunity came. When Sundusk sent out two patrols, Stonestar announced that he would head out as well, for a drink by the stream.

There was much less difficulty than Blacknettle had expected. The patrol was easily willing to separate to cover more ground. With no one watching her movements, Blacknettle found Stonestar by the stream. She leaped before he could say a word, silencing him as she held his head below the water. He tried to push back, but her training came in handy, and she kept her footing without much struggle.

Stonestar came back, and she held him again. And again. And again. Turned out he only had four lives left. Well, zero now.

Blacknettle beamed when a sorrowful Sundusk--now Sunstar--announced Blacknettle as the new deputy. For the first time in seemingly forever, she felt secure.

But her mentor reminded her that she wasn’t completely safe yet. Sunstar was still a position above her. If he found out what she did, especially now that Starclan is more likely to speak with him, he would surely demote her and chase her out. 

The only way she could be safe was if she were leader. 

The only way that could happen is with Sunstar out of the way.

Blacknettle didn’t want to kill him. When the time came--poisoning, turned out enough berries can do the job several times. Then he was easy to trick into eating ‘herbs’ as he recovered--she did it as she did with Applekit, no joy, only a deeply set determination.

Most of her life, she had been planning her leadership. She had been taught that power was the only way, that wanting to reach it should be the only thought that ever crossed her mind. Thinking about anything else was weakness, and with weakness comes exile.

She was leader now. She should be happy. She should feel safe.

She only felt emptiness, and a question that nagged her more and more each day: now what?

She slept in an empty den. It felt cold.

The warriors stilled their gossips and complains of each other whenever she neared.

She lead for many seasons in solitude, sometimes feeling empty, sometimes feeling so overwhelmed with remorse--her regret especially focused on Applekit, Breezekit, and Sunstar--that she could hardly stand.

At last, her pain ended. She knew getting sloppy in battle would make her a target. But now she would be punished. That is exactly what she wanted.

Additional Information:

--She looks like a serval because of the picrew I used to get a spotted design. She’s a normal cat!

--Based on A Warrior Cat’s Life game.

[internalsealpanic]

Stray-ht Home part 3

summary: He’s back.  a/n: I’m sorry this has taken so long.  warning: some blood and Dick being adorable part 1  2

Figaro, as you've discovered, meows. A lot. At everything really. Likely a product of being left in a Gotham alley. So when you hear her yowling at something, you feel all the tiredness from the week seep into your bones. You would really rather not have to deal with this now — it’s nearly two in the morning, you want to go to bed — but if you don’t, Figaro will lie awake meowing until sunrise.

 Figaro's yowling turns to as hiss and you hear a shatter.

 "Figaro! If you break another plate, I will." How do you threaten a kitten?

 Something else shatters and there's a loud thud that sounded too heavy to be a cat.

 "Figaro?" You say, voice pitched high as you skitter into your living room. 

 You blink slowly. What were you looking at?

  Your body practically slams into the wall as you slide into the living room. You wince scrunching your face then looking back at the weird sight before you. 

 Figaro is hissing at the man from two weeks ago. He's on the floor slumped against the wall, rubbing the back of his neck. You guess that answers what the thud was.

 "Psssspsss, Figaro. Pssspsss." 

 Figaro's ears perk up.  Her little feet pad against the hardwood floor as she scampers towards you. You crouch down and she waits for you to scoop her up. 

 "Soooo... I see you're bleeding again." You say, pulling the kitten close. She hisses and you think the man winces. 

 He looks sheepish as he turns his head to his arm.  "I'm sorry." He whispers softly.

You shake your head, laughing. "Don't worry about it. At least, someone is worse than me."

 You point him to the couch. He hesitates then follows. You set Figaro down who proceeds to hiss at him. You want to laugh as he shrinks away from the tiny cat.

 "She won't bite," you say, holding out your hand. He flicks weary eyes to the cat then puts his hand in yours. You inspect the cut running along his arm and frown. "Could you roll up your sleeve?" He shakes his head, not looking away from Figaro who is now readying to launch herself at the man. You huff a laugh and explain: "her teeth haven't fully come in yet. I have a few spare shirts if you want."

 He purses his lips then nods. 

 "Wait here," you turn to Figaro, "stop scaring him." Figaro makes a grab for your finger but you walk away too fast. She nearly falls over when the man catches her.

 Still, she meows stubbornly.

 He slips on the Black Canary T-shirt you ordered a while ago; you're relieved that it fits, but you curse that it fits too nicely. 

 "You can take off your mask, you know." Because as flustering as a hot guy is, you can't really be expected to keep a straight face with him wearing what looks like a glorified owl hood.

 It's nice to see his face again. You really wanna ask him if you can take a picture especially when he scrunches his face like a disgruntled puppy. 

 "Can you please turn off the light?"

 You tilt your head and smile wearily. "I mean-- I can't-- Does it hurt your eyes?"

 He nods shyly. 

 "Well, I can't really work with the lights off-- Oh!"

 You shuffle away to grab something.

 You hand him a pair of cat-shaped sunglasses that Alex got you last summer.  They're oversized, sitting awkwardly on his delicate cheekbones. It slides down occasionally, giving you a peek of his dazzling eyes. 

 He scrunches his nose each time it falls down. You try not to giggle but it's hard when he's being so cute.

He stares at your hand as you clean his wound. 

 "Is there something wrong?"

 He points to your thumb. 

 "Oh, I-- I don't know how to throw a punch. Don't laugh!"

 "I'm sorry." He chuckles, covering his mouth.

 "You aren't." You roll your eyes.

 He shrugs. 

 You two fall into a comfortable lull that seems to stretch forever as you bandage him up. It's not awkward. It's just nice. 

 Figaro doesn't seem to think so as she climbs on his lap, her little face still rumpled and angry. He tenses then softens when the kitten is padding her paw against him. He takes the paw and pinches it lightly between his fingers, shaking it like it's a hand.

 "You haven't asked me anything." He says, pushing his glasses up.  Figaro whines for his hand. He understandably concedes to her petulant demand but he doesn't stop looking at you.

 You return his gaze. "You wear spandex."

 He furrows his brows at you. "And that's enough?"

 "Probably not," you lick your lips," but it's enough for now."

 "You're concerning."

 You snort, "I've been told."

 The silly remark earns you a tired little smile. "It's nice though."

 "Please feel free to vouch for me the next time Doc Leslie gives me a 15-minute lecture- And done."

 You two stare and fidget for a moment. He silently traces a finger over his bandages on arm as if it was strange. You suppose it shouldn't be normal to have to be bandaged up. 

 It didn't occur to you before that he's still wet and damp from the drizzle. "Do you like tea or coffee? Sorry, I forgot to ask." You say, rubbing the back of your neck. 

 "I--" He clams up. Looks down then looks up. "You don't have to." He says quietly. "I've inconvenienced you enough."

 You let out an amused breath. "It's just a hot drink. Besides," you brush his hair away. "You look like a wet cat."

 You get up leaving no room for more arguments. 

 "Coffee or Tea?" 

 He licks his lips, eyes flicking for the answer. 

 "Tea." He says hesitantly, barely lifting his golden eyes towards you. When you don't make any visible reactions, he's sure he'd picked wrong. He should have probably picked coffee.  Were you going to hit him? 

 "Do you like fruity stuff?" You ask gently. 

 He shuffles then nods quickly. 

 You smile. "I have just the thing." His bunched shoulders fall and quiet breath passes between his lips. 

 You tap your finger against your elbow as you watch the fire. Should you say something? That reaction from earlier definitely warranted an investigation. It rankles you to watch him shrink from that. But, what if he wants to relax? It's none of your business after all. You look over your shoulder to find him playing with Figaro and tickling her belly. He looks content despite the extremely fussy, so you let it be. 

 You lean against the counter, elbow brushing against something. The soft chime of a bells. Your hand wraps around a cat wand with a fish and bell attached to it. You wiggle it around trying to recall whether you've seen it before. Boss takes the opportunity to bat at it, long body stretching from the floor. Yeah, you definitely don't own this.

 "Thank you." You say, watching Boss swat at it. 

 The man shrugs, unsure of how to respond. It's been awhile since anyone thanked him let alone said something nice. It feels wrong to respond. It also feels wrong not to. 

 You look over your shoulder again and smile at him. 

 You overwhelm him. 

The smell of cranberries and oranges curls around him, twinning around his mind like string. He remembers this scent, this warm feeling like coming home. He remembers someone doing this for him and remembers doing it for someone else, ruffling their hair while they huffed stubbornly. He wraps a hand around the  Hello Kitty mug, careful not to let his emotions flood into his touch. If he had shown this much emotion back then, the Court would not have treated him with leniency. He certainly knows quite a few members who would happily beat it out of him. But he's here now, sipping tea. 

  You curl on the other end of the couch. "So... you aren't Batman?"

 He stiffens at the name and looks at you confused. "No," he says slowly. 

 Your face flushes and you try to hide half your face in your cup. Your tea is suddenly very interesting. "I--” you breathe “--I thought.  Gosh, I'm sorry."

 "Why would you think that?" He mimics your posture, holding the cup to his face.  He looks like he's pouting and the combination of the ridiculous glasses and the cup held to his face; a seeming pout makes him look a hundred times less threatening. 

 "Spandex. It was the black spandex. Don't give me that look!"

 "I'm not!" He says into his cup, the definitely not pout staying on his face.

 "Uh-huh, sure."

 "Hnnnnnn."

 Dick shrinks on himself. This feels cozy, more cozy than it has any right to be. He should leave. He should leave before something goes wrong and something will. He just knows it. 

 "Gotham springs are terribly rainy." You say absently. 

 He looks up at you trying to catch your meaning.

 "It would be kind of a waste of warm tea if I let you freeze." You shrug. It's a weak excuse but he's still shivering from the drizzle from earlier and your skin is prickling from the anticipation of a storm.

 He should tell you. He should tell you that this isn't safe. That the fractured pieces of the Court are still out there. He should go. 

 You point to his lap. "Good luck getting up." Figaro is snoozing in his lap, even breathing deep in her slumber.

 He tries moving but the kitten only nestles deeper, warm against his cold skin. He really doesn't have the heart to move her, not when she stretches in a proprietary gesture of his lap. He sighs. 

 You beam triumphantly at him over the rim of your mug. 

 "I'll make pancakes in the morning."

Figaro pads her way up to the man's face, curling up on it because his chest isn't as warm as she would like it to be. His heart is faint. Maybe it's sleepy too. 

 He sputters out a mouthful of cat hair. Gently, he pries the kitten off his face by the scruff. She mewls in protest, wiggling in his grip. He shuts his eyes, the light stinging. He hisses quietly. 

 He blinks, squinting. He can smell pancake batter hanging in the air. It's nostalgic. A memory rises to the surface but it sinks back before he can reach for it. 

 "Morning tough guy." You chirp, forehead smattered with pancake batter and something blue.

 He feels around for the sunglasses you'd given him and sighs with relief when he puts it on. When did he fall asleep?  He should leave. 

 Figaro meows at him sternly.

 He squints at the cat. Figaro holds her ground, swatting her paws at his face. He can feel his stomach rumble in protest. Yeah, he can't leave. The pancakes smell too good. 

 He drags himself to the table; Figaro close to his heel. 

 "Not a morning person, huh?" You say, setting a fresh batch in front of him. 

 He shakes his head, picking Figaro up. 

 "Eh, no one is."

 He picks at the pancakes in front of him. They're scarcely dotted with small blueberries. He thinks they're smaller than they ought to be or maybe he's just remembering it wrong. How long has it been since he's eaten pancakes?

 You twirl your fork, closing your eyes as you take a bite. "What should I call you? I mean I can't keep calling you sexy Batman." You open an eye to see if he's listening.

 "Sexy Batman?" He snorts. 

 You sputter and raise your shoulders. "Can I have your name? Or a nickname at least?"

 "Talon." He mumbles, poking at his pancakes.  The batter oozes blue and his stomach is very thankful for the color. 

 You cock your head in a question mark. "Like the nursery rhyme?"

 He looks at his plate. "…yes." He feels like jumping out of his skin. If he tells you anymore and they come back--

  "I thought it was just a kid’s story.” You pause and tilt your head back. “There are weirder things in Gotham, I guess." You mumble, scooping in a mouthful of pancakes. You watch him in the corner of your vision. He’s tense, bristling as if he’s ready to bolt.  You should probably drop the subject. 

“How’s your arm?” “It’s fine.” He didn’t even look at his arm. 

 You scowl at him, debating on using the tone Dr. Leslie uses on you too often before deciding to drop it.  

 He keeps picking at his pancakes. Maybe you should have asked what kind of pancakes he liked. You stand up and snatch at the plate nearly getting yourself stabbed with a fork for your sudden movement. Talon mutters an apology but you shrug and point out that he missed. You catch a twitch in the muscles of his face, a restrained amusement. You’ll take it for now. 

 No words are exchanged after that even when he leaves quietly and you pretend not to notice. 

Over the next few weeks, Talon slips in and out of your life. 

 He tells you it’s stupid to keep your window unlocked in a place like Gotham but you keep it open anyway much to his annoyance. His face is always a mix of exasperation and worry when he finds the open window. Three weeks in you buy him some clothes. 

 Five weeks in you clear the spare bedroom. 

 Eight weeks in gently scolds you about the window again. You just give him a spare key to the shop. 

 And nine weeks in he proves to you that he can just pick the lock to your window. 

 Talon doesn’t know why he keeps coming back or why you keep letting him in but he knows there’s no point in asking when you always just answer with a shrug. 

[generalobi]

Please please please can you write more obi is a tooka? ( Only if u want to of course ❤️💗) It's so godanm cute and I am friggin crying I love it so much!😭 Mabey obi needs to take out some baddies on a mission, ( because come on, he's General Kenobi, and he's got people to sass and commanders to not listen to) but anyone he tries to fight just dies of cutness on the spot. Mabey he tries to wield his lightsaber with the force, or using his mouth, and any villain who looks at Obi wan just can't. Stop.laughing. he's a tiny tooka with a lightsaber, of COURSE he'll look ridiculous. Anakin and Cody of course, would never let him live it down,😂😂

A tooka he may be, but he’s still a General and a Councillor. He still has a war to fight.

Obi-Wan is definitely in this situation on purpose. He absolutely meant to fight Ventress while he’s twenty times smaller and only able to wield his lightsaber with his mouth. Yup. Not at all an accident. Cody’s going to kill him.

“I can feel your presence General,” Ventress calls, “Why don’t you come out and face me? Are you still recovering from whatever had you out of the field? Are you afraid?”

No, he thinks, I’m just the size of a tuber. He hunches down, hackles rising. If he can just surprise her… there. She’s right above him.

Obi-Wan launches himself out of his crate, lightsaber flicking on with a clench of his jaw. He’s so close when he feels himself pulled to a sudden stop, hovering in midair. He can’t help it, he lets out a disappointed and very embarrassing whine.

Ventress circles him, eyes raking over his too small body, “It can’t be. General Kenobi, you’re so… small.”

He yowls, wiggling his paws uselessly.

“And ridiculous,” there’s laughter in her voice, “By the Force, look at those tiny paws. You have your ‘sabre in your mouth Kenobi, and you expect me to take you seriously? Is this a ploy? Because if so it’s working. I can’t hurt a tooka. Especially not one as cute as you.”

She boops his nose. The indignity! He may be confined in this body but he is still a General of the Republic! The Negotiator! A… oh she’s very good at giving scratches. Maybe he can just take a minute to enjoy it before he finds a way out of this. Yes, that wouldn’t be so bad.

“You are just the cutest.”

A series of explosions echoes through the base and Obi-Wan twists in the air. Where did those come from? Is that his men? It’s only a little embarrassing to need to be rescued. Another explosion sounds, this one much closer. He feels his men’s presences drawing closer.

A third explosion sends a wave of heat over Obi-Wan’s fur as the far wall ceases to exist and the 212th pours through.

“Get away from my General,” Cody snaps, blaster in hand.

“Your General? How cute. Well,” her hand disappears from his head and Obi-Wan whines, “I must be going. Better move fast if you want to catch your General before he hits the floor.”

¬

Cody dives forward, hands closing around his General as Ventress disappears into the night. He curses internally. At least Obi-Wan seems mostly unharmed, if a little disgruntled. Good, that means Cody can yell at him.

He raises the General to his face, so he can look into his eyes, “And what have I said about wandering off?”

The General squeaks, twitching his tiny ears. Around them, the 212th works on stabilizing the building and pursuing Ventress. They leave The General Scolding to Cody.

“You have to stay with the group,” he continues, “No matter how shiny anything is or how cute you think the children are. Stay. With. The. Group.”

Obi-Wan sends an impression of resigned apology, whining when Cody keeps staring at him. He waits another few seconds before giving in, and placing the General on his shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re alright, General,” he says quietly, “But please never do that again. You can’t fight like this.”

A frustrated growl rumbles through Obi-Wan’s tiny body and he turns in a tight circle before settling down again and curling into a ball. The message is clear. He’s annoyed with his tiny body and Cody’s rules. Well, that’s probably fair.

¬

Obi-Wan observes Ahsoka’s The Force and it’s Philosophy 5 class from his place between the peaks of her montrols. The current topic is one of his favourites, What is the Force?.

That’s the Yertrt Model of the Force, not the Corillian, he sends, looking over Ahsoka’s datapad.

Did Skyguy ever take this class? Ahsoka asks, correcting her answer.

No, Anakin quit after Force and Philosophy 2. He thought it was boring. He took AstroMech all the way up to 8 instead.

Ahsoka hums thoughtfully, sending a wave of fond exasperation at her Master to him. Obi-Wan sends the impression of a shrug back. Anakin would have benefited from in depth lessons on the Force but forcing him would’ve only made his resentment grow. Probably.

“Padawan Tano,” Master Windu stops in front of her desk, “Not everyone has a grandmaster on their head feeding them answers. Give Obi-Wan to me, and get on with your work.”

Ahsoka huffs but complies. She scoops Obi-Wan off her head and hands him to Mace.

You are a dirty cheater, Mace tells him, placing him on his shoulder.

Ahsoka simply makes use of the resources she has at her disposal.

Dirty. Cheater. Mace reiterates, You are giving her bad habits.

I am a High Council member, Master Windu, I do not cheat.

[spitfire-of-the-sea]

Welcome to the Crew

Ever wondered how Kotatsu joined the Spade Pirates? We know a tiny little bit - that Ace freed him from a trap, but not much more than that. Why not elaborate a bit on that? :D

Welcome to the crew

 „Ace, no!“ Deuce said with emphasis, crossing his arms in front of his chest. It was much the same tone he had used earlier in the day, when Ace had been about to take a bite out of a very colorful mushroom that Saki had mentioned being probably poisonous.

“It’s a freaking tiger! You can’t just go there and release it! It might try to eat us all! You first, because you’ll be right where its mouth full of sharp teeth is. You know, the end where food goes in?”

“That’s not a tiger, that’s a lynx,” Saki corrected him, already following Ace as he approached the animal. On their hike through the forest, they had heard strange noises and had followed them to the trail they were currently on – and had come upon a trapped animal that was desperately trying to free itself.

“Who cares, they are practically the same! We are not unleashing a wild animal! We don’t even know why it’s been trapped! It might be a man-eater!” Deuce answered hotly, hurrying to keep up with them. She didn’t turn to look back at him, too busy picking her way through the undergrowth and not getting too far behind Ace, who always seemed to find his way through a jungle without any problem.

“It’s quite the difference. First of all, you can see that their pattern is completely different, tigers have stripes and lynx most certainly do not. There’s also the tufts on their ears and their ability to climb. Fun fact: Lynx can purr continuously, tigers only as they exhale,” she explained with a smile, completely unperturbed by Deuce’s increasing annoyance level. “I doubt it’s a man-eater, I have never heard about a lynx that was. This looks more like it was just unlucky enough to step in one of those shitty traps laid out by shitty poachers…”

Ace had almost reached the big cat, which frantically tried to get away – futile attempts that only made it yowl in pain even as it hissed and snarled at them. Saki clicked her tongue and followed him, but stopped when the cat grew even more panicked. It was big – much bigger than any normal lynx should be, its head easily reached Ace’s navel. Its fur had the color of ash, with an ivory colored stripe running along its spine and widening along its head towards its snout; it was the same color as its paws and the underside of its belly. An usual color for a lynx for sure, but then all the animals on this island seemed a bit different.

“He’s going to tear his paw off, Ace,” she said quietly, hoping to not distress the animal even further. “You have to be quick about it.” It looked like a nasty wound already, the metal clamping down hard around its leg and blood drenching its fur.

Deuce sighed heavily. “Okay, fine, so we free it – and then what? Look at it, it’s completely feral. If it runs off into the forest with that wound, it’ll get an infection and definitely die. Then this whole little rescue operation here was for nothing anyhow.”

“It’s just scared. It might have been here for days already,” Saki mumbled, slowly taking off her jacket. “I’ll have to keep it still and then Ace can open the trap and you can treat the wound. It’ll be fine!”

“You make it sound super easy…! It can seriously hurt us! And I’m not a vet!” Deuce insisted, but she knew he had already accepted his fate, it was just a grumpy façade he put up whenever he thought they were doing something probably dumb. Which, admittedly, was the case almost every day at least once. Sometimes more often.

Ace had reached the lynx now, murmuring softly under his breath. The animal had backed away as much as it possibly could, fur bristled and teeth bared. Before Saki could move towards them, he had closed his hands around the trap and was pulling it open.

The lynx lurched forward with a growl, burying its teeth in his arm, eyes wide with fear and claws raking skin. Unflinching, Ace pried the trap open bit by bit.

“Oi! You should have given me a second!” Saki moved in, throwing her jacket over the cat’s head and closing her arms around its chest and head, trying to press it against her body and keep it still. Even using all her strength, she wasn’t overly successful – she felt the claws of its hind legs cut into her skin and barely managed to hold it in place. At least with the jacket blocking its view and her arms around it, it had stopped to bite at Ace - and only managed to nip Saki twice, before she finally got a good grasp on it.

The second the trap was opened and the paw freed, Ace moved to her side, gently pushing her to the away. “Let me hold him down, he’ll hurt you more than me,” he said quietly and she made room for him. Within a moment he had the big cat in his lap, bleeding arms firmly clasped around it as he pressed it to his chest and held it in place – much more easily than Saki had. Blinded by the jacket, it was bucking and snarling, claws digging into Ace’s legs. She winced at the sight of his blood.

Deuce sighed and dropped his backpack to take out medical supplies. While Saki held the affected leg still as he set to work in silence, disinfecting and stitching the gaping wound and finally bandaging it up. When he was done, he looked at his friends with a sigh. Both were bleeding from deep scratches – Ace worse than her, the teeth marks on his arm still bleeding profusely. The cat had settled down, somewhat at least. It was still snarling and growling, but kept still for the most part.

“Take the jacket off,” Ace said, barely audible, and Saki let go of the paw to slowly slide the cloth off the lynx’s head. It looked around widely, from her to Deuce and then back at Ace, who was loosening is grip. “He likes the warmth. I think it calms him down.” A smile appeared on Ace’s lips as he looked at the cat and then slowly let him go, opening his arms.

The animal looked at him hesitantly and then hobbled off his lap, but then just stood there, tail twitching and ears flattened. Ace sat still, fire blooming over his back and shoulders and illuminating his smile. “You wanna come with us?” he asked. “We’ll take care of your wound and keep you safe. You don’t need to be scared.”

It kept standing there, staring at him. When he shifted his weight and moved, it immediately bared its teeth again with a snarl, but didn’t run off. Ace reached for the trap and then, his fire flaring up even more, tore it apart and threw it to the ground. “See? It’s gone. It’s fine now.”

Saki started to rummage in her backpack and with a triumphant grin pulled out her last sandwich. Inching forward slowly, she set it on the ground in front of the lynx, trying to ignore the way it hissed at her when she got too close for comfort. “You must be hungry, here, eat! It’s turkey sandwich!”

The animal looked at her and then quickly darted forward to snatch it, gobbling it down in three quick bites, before backing away again, licking its mouth with its eyes still on her.

“Now you probably just made it think about how tasty we might be…,” Deuce muttered darkly, glaring at her. She had not expected Ace to glare at her, though, and arched an eyebrow quizzically at him.

“You told me you don’t have any more sandwiches,” he said and looked an awful lot like he was really pouting. Furrowing her brow, she put her hands in her hip and returned the glare.

“I said I don’t have any more sandwiches for you. You already ate six, Deuce had two and I only had one! That was my second sandwich, and I chose to give it to the poor guy over there and not the guy who already had six sandwiches,” she stated, clearly irritated – even more so, when Ace pressed his lips together in obvious disappointment. She threw her hands up and shook her head. “Well, then pack your own lunch next time!”

“But Saki,” Ace whined, “Your sandwiches are better than mine! And I’m hungry!”

“Your sandwiches,” she bit out, “are only cold slices of meat. That’s not a sandwich. That’s barely a meal. And you’re always hungry.”

“Well, we walked a lot today!” he replied, standing up. “That would make anybody hungry. I would have just eaten those mushrooms back then, but Deuce said not to. Don’t we have anything else with us?”

“Deuce said not to,” Deuce butted in, “because Saki said they were probably poisonous!”

“Saki said they were probably poisonous because they were probably poisonous”, Saki deadpanned and sighed, giving up. She reached into her backpack again and handed first Ace and then Deuce an apple, before pulling out a chocolate bar and breaking it in three, giving each of them a piece and plopping the remaining one into her own mouth.

“There, that’s everything I had with me. Literally everything, except my notebook and pen and even you can’t eat that.” She plopped to the ground and looked at the lynx, which had settled down, carefully licking its bandaged paw while it didn’t let them out of its sight. “I’ll be honest, if you come with us, we can give you more food, but you’ll have to share with them,” she said to the big cat pointed at her two friends. The lynx cocked its head to the side.

“What, we’re gonna adopt it now? It’s a wild animal!” Deuce asked incredulously, taking a bite out of his apple with a crunch.

“So is Ace, we still love him,” Saki replied with a shrug and felt Ace settle down next to her, bumping his shoulder against hers.

“Saki, do you want the second half?” He held out the half-eaten apple, looking at her as if he felt guilty. She knew he was probably still hungry - he was always hungry – but felt bad for eating so much more than they did. She took it silently from him and bit into the apple, chewing thoughtfully.

“What’s even in your backpacks? They looked super full!” she asked.

“Medical supplies because one or both of you always manage to stumble into some problem. Like an animal in a poacher’s trap – and my own notebook and pen. And a book to read, in case we have a quiet moment. Plus a change of clothes, in case we end up like last time,” Deuce explained with a shrug. “So we’re gonna adopt the cat?!”

“If he wants to come with us, we’ll adopt him!” Ace confirmed, looking at the lynx with a grin. “I’ve already got a name in mind!” Opening his backpack, he set it down next to Saki to let her have a look. “I brought a jacket, because you always get cold. There’s also a map of the island, a bag in case we find treasure and another bag in case we find food and want to bring some back. I also brought a rope. You never know.”

Staring at him, she started to smile at the sight of the jacket. It was one of his big ones that she had borrowed a few times already – she did get cold in the evenings when they were out and about and she liked that jacket, because it fit her easily even over her own and was nice and cozy.

“So you brought a backpack to transport a bag and another bag?” Deuce asked, shaking his head – to which Ace only grinned. Transferring his look from Ace to the cat, he eyed it thoughtfully. It seemed to be unsure what to do next, something Deuce understood only too well. He felt like that most of the time. “What’s the name?”

“Kotatsu, because he likes it warm,” Ace said happily and watched the lynx perk up, ears twitching.

Saki and Deuce groaned almost in unison. “You can’t be serious,” Deuce said, pinching his nose. “I have to stop letting you pick names.”

Saki laughed. “Well, you did let him choose yours, Deuce. I guess if Kotatsu here likes it, there’s nothing speaking against it, except for good taste perhaps. But neither of you has ever let that stop you.”

Ace bumped his shoulder against hers again, a bit harder this time. “Oi!” “Ah, shut up, Saki!” Deuce mumbled, flushing as he re-adjusted his mask. The cat was still looking at them, waiting for something with its tail twitching nervously.

Deuce looked both of his two friends up and down. “We gotta get back to the ship anyhow. I have to give you a tetanus shot, and disinfect all those scratches and bites. I’ll need a ton of disinfectant.” He groaned. “It’ll take the rest of the afternoon… I better not hear a single complaint from either of you. I warned you.”

Saki and Ace threw each other a look, grimacing. The disinfectant Deuce had managed to buy in the village was vile, it burned like hell whenever he used it. “I anyway never get sick, my fire burns away everything. I don’t need that,” Ace said and was met with a stony glare from Deuce.

“You don’t know that, you just assume so. We’ll play it safe and I’ll disinfect them and you’ll not say a single peep while I do so. Now, let’s go!” Deuce shouldered his back and slowly towards the direction of the coast.

“You coming, Kotatsu?” Ace called out, crouching down and stretching out a hand towards the lynx. It looked at the hand intently before it started to tentatively sniff the air, not moving forward yet. Saki stepped behind him, looking at the cat. “We have food, we can give you some if you come with us. Plus, you really shouldn’t be running around on your own with that paw. You won’t be able to hunt.” Its ears twitched and it let out a chuff. The tail still twitched nervously.

“Want me to carry you?” Ace offered, cocking his head to the side.

The lynx mimicked him, then averted its eyes, almost as if it was embarrassed. “Me-ow!” it uttered and Saki bit back a delighted squeal. How cute was that?! It had the voice of a little kitten, not at all that of a giant lynx that had been snarling and hissing at them just before.

“Alright then, Kotatsu! Welcome to the crew!” Ace grinned and went to pick him up, ignoring the bristling fur and grunt as he hauled the big cat up into his arms and started walking after Deuce.

[fairfaxleasee]

For DWC: I immediately regret this decision.

For @dadrunkwriting

Fenris/Cass (with a cameo from Dante, the evil cat)

"I immediately regret this decision," Fenris huffed under his breath.

"STUPID ELF! YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS! YOU HAVE TO LET GO EVENTUALLY, AND WHEN YOU DO, YOU'RE GOING TO GET IT!" the damn cat-thing Anders had given Cassia Hawke earlier that week yowled and twisted in his hands as it tried to struggle hard enough to bite him (of course, Cass couldn't seem to hear a word of the things protests - he'd be forced to call in the Templars if he couldn't persuade her to get rid of the menace).

"Fenris, you're the one who said you were afraid he'd ruin the furniture," Cass adjusted her angle of attack to try to match the cat-thing's movements. (Also her implication was wrong, Fenris couldn't care less about the furniture, but he'd thought it might let him get rid of the thing that he was positive had tried to suffocate him the previous night. "Just hold him still while I trim his claws."

"STUPID ELF! HOW DARE YOU MAKE CASS DO THIS TO ME! YOU'RE GOING TO BE SO SORRY WHEN YOU FINALLY LET GO!"

"I know I'm going to be sorry, you little beast..." he hissed to the thing.

"Fenris, be nice! Dante was a stray, he's probably just not used to this." Cass finally managed to get ahold of a paw and began to trim the thing's nails (not that he expected it would have any effect whatsoever on the thing's ability to cause bleeding injuries and puncture wounds).

He closed his eyes to try and delay the horrible, horrible realization inherent in what Cass had just said. When he was unsuccessful, he asked, "...Cass, please tell me you didn't name the thing..." He eased one of his eyes open just enough to look at her.

She'd stopped trying to trim the thing's nails and was wringing her hands. "I don't... why wouldn't I give him a name..."

As if in answer to her question, the thing, 'Dante,' managed to twist hard enough to sink its teeth into Fenris' wrist. "Venhedis!" He dropped it with the swear.

It took a few parting shots at him once it hit the ground, then went scurrying off (he was positive it was going to hide under the couch again to attack his feet when he was trying to read, but that wasn't the immediate problem). The immediate problem (given that his wrist wasn't actually bleeding) was that Cass had gone from wringing her hands to chewing on her nails, and given that she didn't seem to be calming down any, it was only a matter of time before she started scratching at herself.

He walked over and prised her hand from her mouth, then took the other before she could begin on it. "Cass, we have no idea where that thing has been. It's sharp, angry, homicidal, reacts to the smallest provocation, growls at everyone and everything..." He set his jaw at the recollection of Anders' declaration when he'd fobbed the thing off on Cass that it bore a striking resemblance to Fenris himself - he hated it when the mage was right. AND that the mage was right about this.

"I... I know. But he likes me, Fenris." Her lower lip was quivering slightly and there were tears in her eyes.

Not many people liked Cass. They were both very aware of that fact (not many people liked Fenris either, but the people who especially didn't like him weren't near as damaging than the ones who had loathed her). So when she found someone (or something) that did, she didn't want to let it go.

"I don't... do I have to give him away?"

She'd do it if he told her to. She'd hate it, and herself, but she'd do it - no matter how much it would hurt. He reached out to rub his thumb along her cheekbone. She flinched away from his touch - a bad sign of how on-edge she was. He let his hand hover beside her face as he said, "If it turns on you, Cass, it's gone." She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. "I'm not debating that." She sighed and nodded, then leaned into his hand. He smiled as he began to trace her cheekbone. "And I'm still going to keep an eye on it, there's something funny about the damn thing..."

"HEY! Stupid Elf! Hands off Cass! Cass is mine! You find your own!" The fact that it was ordering him around from under the ottoman was only the beginning of what was wrong with the thing.

He shot it a glare and hissed under his breath, "I found her first, she's mine!"

"You're wrong, Stupid Elf!"

He gave the thing a final snarl before turning back to Cass. "And I am not helping you trim the thing's nails again."

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 32

chapter list / previous / next

A bright ginger tom padded confidently along the narrow fence, taking in the scents of the morning. Dawn was cloudy and gray, but there were small streaks of yellow and orange poking through the gloomy cover. It wouldn’t take long for them to dissipate and give way to scorching clear skies. Jake normally wouldn’t bother being awake so early, as his housefolk wouldn’t be up to feed him until well after sunrise, but this morning felt different. 

Jake had looped the neighborhood twice already looking for...something. He didn’t know what, but he figured he would know when he found it. So far everything was quiet. But he knew when his gut told him that it was a day for going out, he should listen. It had always been right so far--well, ok, it was right at least half the time, but that was a good enough ratio for Jake to take seriously. So, he kept his ears and nose open and searched for anything and everything slightly out of the ordinary.

A pretty gray molly bounded up onto the fence when he walked by her yard.

“Good morning Quince,” Jake greeted her. 

She purred and rubbed her cheek against his. “You're up early,” she purred in a honey sweet voice. “Are you going to watch the sunrise with me after all?”

“Sorry, I was just going to walk by the woods today.”

She rolled her eyes “There’s nothing interesting in the woods! What do you want to go there for?”

“There’s plenty interesting in the woods! Don’t you remember that story I told you before?”

“Oh yes, yes, the monster cats. You’re still going on about that?”

“They’re not monster cats Quince! They’re called warriors.” Jake said indignantly. “Well don’t let Nutmeg hear you talking about it again, you know how worked up she gets about it.”

Jake knew his friends didn’t care as much for his stories of the wild cats that prowled in the woods and beyond. And they didn’t believe him about the one he’d met once either. Sometimes even he wondered if he was just manufacturing the memory of that cat. It felt like it had been an eternity since he lived on the farm at the edge of the moorland; the world around him sprawling in every direction, massive and wondrous if his legs had only been long enough to run it. It certainly felt a bit like a dream when he described it, especially to cats who had always lived in a smaller world where you couldn’t see very far without a house or tree in the way. 

Not that Jake didn’t like living with Cris and Dusty, he loved them both dearly. His housefolk had always been in his life, though he never really understood what made him suddenly want to take all of their things and leave the farmhouse behind. Jake was happy to go with him, but he couldn’t help wishing he’d had just a little bit longer at the barn near the moors. But as his mother always said, life for a cat simply goes on. Everything changes eventually. His paws would be swept in a new direction, with him simply carried along and adapting with it. Family goes separate ways, one day you only know a few fields and a shed, the next you’re whisked to somewhere completely strange, and so it went. It was bewildering, but also exciting in a way. 

Jake had lived in his new home here for moons  He’d explored every nearby inch, including the farther town, and got lost only a few times. It was nice, but it had started to grow a tad...monotonous. And, sure enough, there came an itch in his paws and a tug in his gut that insisted...maybe it’s time to get swept along again. He was restless with the waiting, so he made a point of following the impulse every time. Usually it led him places he wasn’t supposed to be, angering housefolk and strays as he went, but...maybe this time was different.

Jake’s friends didn’t really understand his fancies, but he still tried to goad them into joining him anyway.

“There are lots of birds in the woods this time of day, Quince,” Jake pressed. “You like watching birds don’t you?”

“I like watching birds from my garden, where it’s safe,” she replied, pointedly.

He had promised not to try exploring the woods because it made Quince and Nutmeg uneasy, but it was the only place he hadn’t checked yet. Quince continued giving him a hard look.

“I’m not going in or anything!” Jake insisted.

She narrowed her clear blue eyes a bit, clearly having doubts about that.

As they walked, eventually they heard a rustling below. Someone hissed up at them. Jake and Quince looked down to see a disheveled looking tortoiseshell who walked with a bit of a limp.

“Good morning Nutmeg!” Quince chirped. “You’re not hurting your leg more are you?”

“No, mom I’m not doing any jumping,” Nutmeg rolled her eyes. She carefully clambered up onto a stool, and then a table, to poke her head over the fence.

“You look more ruffled than usual. Anything different go by?” Jake asked.

 Nutmeg broke her leg some time ago tumbling off a roof. She’d gotten frightened by a large bird when she was trying to peek into a new neighbor's garden, but the accident hadn’t stopped her from keeping up her favorite hobby: spying on all of their neighbors. Keeping a defensive lookout, she called it. Or perhaps just being very very nosy.

“Listen, I squeezed through the fence into Tyr’s yard earlier,” Nutmeg said in a hushed urgent voice, “and there’s this dangerous cat walking around!”

“Is this like the dangerous cat that actually turned out to be a little lost terrier?” Jake asked.

“Shut up Jake, that was one time!” Nutmeg hissed. “And yes, I’m sure, Tyr saw it too! It was a big lanky freak all covered in blood. It had probably just killed, and I bet it would do it again! It tried to attack both of us, but we managed to get away. Tyr just left me to scramble down the ladder like the coward he is, and I almost bent my other hind leg in the process.”

“So you have been hurting your leg more,” Quince tutted. “You're never going to get rid of that limp at this rate.”

“Are you even listening? That dangerous cat is still out there! You should both go back to your gardens and get inside.”

Jake couldn’t hide the spark of excitement. This was certainly different.

 Nutmeg glared at him with flattened ears. “I know that look Jake, and don’t you dare even think about it. You can’t go messing with dangerous strays! Last time you did that you almost lost an ear to a mangy old brute.”

“We came to an understanding eventually,” Jake said simply. “I just surprised him is all.”

“Well this isn’t just any stray! This cat wasn’t normal, it was long and gangly and bony, and its claws were huge. A mistake of nature if ever I saw one! So whatever you're thinking, you’d better not.”

Jake blinked at her innocently. “I wasn’t thinking about anything.”

“He was just thinking of strolling by the woods.” Quince chirped.

“Tattle-tail,” he grumbled.

“No!” Nutmeg yowled, digging her claws into the fence in exasperation. “It was right by the woods where we saw it! Just go later! Or better, not at all! Do you have fluff in your brain?”

“It would be a better idea to go home, I think,” Quince said nervously. “I certainly don’t want to meet any aggressive strays.”

Jake sighed. “Alright, alright. Since everyone’s so worked up about it.”

“Thank you.” Nutmeg huffed, “Now get out of my garden, you're going to attract attention.”

Jake waved goodbye to both his friends as Quince quickly made her way back to her own house. He padded onward down the fence. His home was nearby, since he’d already made a full loop of the neighborhood. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to keep his promise about going inside. What kind of cat could Nutmeg have been talking about? She had a tendency to exaggerate, but she did seem very worked up. He could go to Tyr and ask him, but Tyr was...well, Jake didn’t want to call him “stuck up” because that would be rude, but he was sometimes... difficult to talk to. And more prone to exaggerating than even Nutmeg. Whatever this mystery was, he’d have to find clues himself.

Jake always believed his paws would take him where he needed to be even if the path there was bumpy, and that destiny was something that had funny and unexpected ways of finding you. Maybe it was an overly colorful way to look at life or even a little naive, he knew that, but Jake figured he would rather be a little naive then miserable and bored. And as he approached his garden, he became all the more certain his gut was right about today after all. 

A sharp scent hit the roof of his mouth and he opened his jaws to get a better taste. Was that...blood on the grass? Jake couldn’t help his curiosity. How could he possibly not follow it? So follow it he did, and to his surprise, the trail led him right into his own yard. Cris would still be asleep. Housefolk hated when Jake woke them up, but he would do it if he had to, in case there really was some sort of danger.

His other housemate, Dusty, had broken off a small bottom chunk of the wooden fence trying to dig his way out (and maybe Jake had encouraged it a bit), and it looked like someone else had squeezed their way through the hole. Slipping through after it, Jake could scarcely believe his eyes. 

There was a long, stretched out form sprawled out awkwardly in the freshly cut grass. Skinny, bloody, and scratched up badly. There was dark wet spots on the ground where it smelled like they'd been sick. It was certainly a cat by the looks of it, though for sure an odd looking one. They were rather big, with an impossibly long tail and the biggest ears Jake had ever seen. 

A series of memories came flooding to the surface of his mind. The sprawling moors, the scraggly border of the woods, a bewildered black and white face blinking down at him with eyes the most beautiful shade of orange and copper Jake had ever seen, like a brilliant setting sun. Memories from a different world that almost felt like dreams these days.

Jake sniffed the limp form. He was definitely passed out cold. It couldn’t really be him could it? It was too perfect a coincidence. It was absurd! And yet...Tallpaw was there. Of course, it all made sense now, that “lanky freak” couldn’t possibly be any cat else.

 And he was an absolute mess. 

“By all the stars!” Jake breathed “What happened to you?”

***

Nutmeg was the last to pull herself up onto Jake’s windowsill. 

“Be careful not to put weight on your leg,” Quince warned. Nutmeg huffed in annoyance for the mollys fussing. 

“Be quick! You won’t believe it,” Jake chirped. He could hardly keep the excitement out of his voice.

“I hope it’s good, because you’re right, so far I don’t believe it.” Tyr scoffed. Jake hadn’t actually invited him, but the pampered old tom had just invited himself as usual, and Jake was too nice to tell him to go away. The windowsill barely fit all four cats. Jake ignored Tyr’s comment and peered in, eyes bright with excitement.

“I’m telling you, it’s the same cat I talked about that I met when I was younger, I’d know those ears anywhere!”

Nutmeg narrowed her eyes. “And he’s in your house now because…?”

“Well, yesterday he passed out outside and I got Cris’s attention because I knew he would help any hurt cat, and then he took him away and brought him back, and now he’s in this room!”

“I cannot believe your housefolk just brought a strange stray into your house! Neither of you know if he’s dangerous. Jake, your housefolk’s head is as full of fluff as yours is,” Nutmeg exclaimed.

Jake turned up his nose. “He cares about everyone, I like that about him! Now wait here, I heard mumbling earlier, so I bet my friend is awake.”

Nutmeg’s short mottled fur stood on end “Wait, don’t go into that room! What are you thinking?”

“Everything’s perfectly under control, Nutmeg,” Jake assured her as he squeezed through the narrow gap in the open window. This window luckily never closed all the way and it was easy to shove a paw under and get open. Jake leaped down into the room and padded over to the carrier. It was covered in a shabby towel. 

Poking his head underneath the cloth, he said as gently as he could “Hey, how are ya feeling? Any better?”

A garbled growl was his response. Well he was sort of awake at least. The carrier suddenly shook violently. Alright, he was definitely awake. Jake scooted back as a long, clumsy white forepaw shot out between the bars and swiped blindly at the air. When the paw got tired and drooped onto the floor, Jake patted it gently with his own paw, and promptly dodged another swipe in response. 

He looked back at his bristling friends on the windowsill. “See, perfectly under control. He’ll feel better when he’s not stuck in that box. Hey Nutmeg, what was the trick you figured out about opening these carriers again?”

“I’m not telling you!” Nutmeg's growl was very high pitched. “You can’t let that thing out Jake, you don’t have any idea what you’re doing!”

“Maybe it would be best to be careful, Jake.” Quince agreed.

“Oh nevermind, I remember now.” Jake pawed at the silver lock. It had to slide in some direction...He batted at it, and the cat inside growled in alarm. “Don’t be afraid! I just have to paw at this until it moves.”

At last it slid, now if he could just get a claw around the door….

It turned out he didn’t have to, as a blur of black and white barreled into the door and it flung open, forcing Jake to spring back. A bristling ball of fur and bandages rocketed across the room until it tumbled into a pile of spare towels tossed on the floor. Cris was never very good at cleaning the house. He heard his friends on the window cry out in alarm, and Jake instinctively jumped back up on the tall windowsill, needing a bit of help from Quince to haul himself all the way up.

“There, everything’s fine,” Jake gasped. “Just want to give him a moment to calm down, being trapped in those little boxes is the worst.”

“That’s...really a genuine real life wild cat then?” Even Nutmeg sounded a bit amazed.

“Yep! He’s from the huge field I told you about, he’s the fastest cat who ever lived.”

“You don’t know that,” Tyr sniffed. He hated any cat that was more impressive than himself, with his “purebred bloodline” whatever that meant.

“I do so know it,” Jake argued, “They’re all really big, and they have a whole society with no housefolk to take food from. And we were friends, and he helped me get home when I was lost once!” 

An angry pair of blazing orange eyes glared at them, hissing as he tried to stand up, but wobbling badly on his feet and falling over soon after. The vet’s medicine had obviously not worn off as Tallpaw stumbled around the room. Jake heard Quince giggle.

“He’s really as noble as you described,” she purred.

“Be nice!” Jake said. “We all saw how bad Nutmeg was when she came back from the vet after her leg got hurt. They make your head all funny.”

Down below, Tallpaw had gotten frightened by a mirror, tried to claw it, hurt his paw and scampered awkwardly away. “Who’s there?” he slurred. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of anyone.” He smacked a stray piece of trash on the floor, but the noise it made when it clattered into the wall clearly startled him. He arched his back and snarled.

“He’s snarling at a piece of plastic.” Nutmeg said.

“He’s just confused, I’m sure I can calm him down.” Jake mewed.

Suddenly, Tallpaw whipped around at the sound of their voices and launched himself at them, attempting to leap up onto a shelf near the window. Nutmeg cried out in alarm. Tallpaw’s aim was unsurprisingly poor as he missed the high shelf and tumbled back to the ground. At last he lay still on the carpet, panting.

“W-well he is...something, isn’t he?” Quince stuttered.

Jake winced. “I’ll er...I’ll go see how he’s doing.”

“Wait, that is that same cat from yesterday, I know it!” Nutmeg called, claws digging anxiously into the old wood. “Jake, he’s dangerous and clearly insane, you can’t just walk up to strays like that!”.

“Well, I’m gonna,” Jake said over his shoulder. “I told you, I know him! His name is Tallpaw.”

“I thought its name was Tal.” Tyr muttered.

Tallpaw was breathing heavily on his side, clearly having exhausted himself from his drunken run around the room. Jake padded up and tentatively touched him on the side. Tallpaw’s head shot up, lurching back to his paws again and barring his teeth, but his gaze was blurry and unfocused. “Don’t sneak up’n me, intruder!” he slurred.

“Oh you're not on about that again, are you?” Jake laughed. “Come on Tallpaw, don’t you remember me? It’s me! It's Jake!”

“W-wh....Jake?” Tallpaw blinked at him blearily, as if he was trying to focus. He swayed back and forth on his paws like a tree in the wind.

“Yes, Jake. You're in my house.” Jake mewed slowly.

Tallpaw looked around again, his eyes focused on the three kittypets muttering to each other outside the window. “They’re laughing at me,” he growled. “I’m getting outside.”

 Before Jake could stop him, Tallpaw crouched and leapt straight at the window. Tyr yowled in fear and promptly fell off his perch. Of course, Tallpaw smacked hard into the glass and fell back down again with a loud thump that shook the windowpane, but obviously didn’t budge it. Nutmeg and Quince were bristling in surprise, but Quince was clearly trying very hard to suppress a giggle. 

Nutmeg was less amused. “What is wrong with that cat?” she hissed.

“It’s ok! It’s ok, no one is laughing at you!” Jake said quickly. 

Tallpaw covered his eyes and groaned.

Jake pressed his nose against his head. “It’s all ok, maybe just stay on the ground ‘til you're feeling a little less dizzy, yeah?”

Tallpaw’s sunset colored eyes widened again as he looked up. “Jake?” he wheezed, as if he’d only just seen him.

“That’s it!” Jake purred. The wild cat remembered after all.

 “But...but you got eaten by a monster. Where am I?”

Jake cocked his head in confusion. “Huh? I didn’t get eaten by anything, I just moved away.” 

“You’re not real. I’m dead, this is just part of the punishment...” Tallpaw moaned and flopped back down, burying his face in his paws.

Jake licked his head. “I’ll give you a moment to rest until your head clears.” 

“It’s so bright and loud,” Tallpaw mumbled. “I know buddy, here this will help.” Jake tugged the towel off the carrier and went to awkwardly drape it over the shaking WindClan cat. “There, if you can’t see it, it can’t hurt you.”

Tallpaw only groaned again, but eventually grew quiet and still. Jake looked sheepishly up at his friends while they stared in complete bafflement at the bundle beneath a towel.

Well alright, so this wasn’t the best of introductions. 

Eventually the others were shooed away, but they were obviously very hesitant. Jake couldn’t help being a bit frustrated. Sure there had been one or two times….or maybe several times where he assured his friends that he knew what he was doing, only to come home with new angry bite wounds from adventures gone awry, but couldn’t they give him the benefit of the doubt?

 The house cat sat contentedly next to the wild cat trapped in his house, who was still halfway hidden under a towel and making the occasional whimpering sound. Jake blinked fondly at him and sharpened his claws on the carpet to contain a burst of restless bubbling excitement. He had a feeling the next change in his life was about to start.

chapter list / previous / next

[warriorstickers]

Cavernclan Glowfish could feel she was getting stressed, and her stomach was starting to turn as a result. This was the time when she should be stocking up on herbs for the cold season, and it seemed like Caverclan was injuring themselves on purpose to use up her remaining stock! Talondrift was still recovering, as her injured tail was still quite painful. Cherryfreckle had even wandered into the den after tripping while hunting, and twisting her paw. She didn’t need to stay in the Medicine den, and Glowfish would have been tempted to kick her and her grimacing face out, if not for the fact that she was Talondrift’s old mentor, and was a comfort to her. She listened for a moment as the pair spoke softly, Talondrift even laughing softly. As long as she makes my patient better, she can stay. Still, Glowfish huffed. It wasn’t always easy, doing what was best for the patient. What was more of a concern was Reedburr. The tom had gone for an accidental swim in Hayclan’s pond, which hadnd’t been as frozen as the red Deputy had thought. He had managed to save himself, but not before he inhaled a bunch of water and developed a cough. She looked to where he was sleeping in a nest now, seeing the somewhat rough rise and fall of his chest. I’ll have to keep a close eye on him.

~ Glowfish was angry to the point of hissing! She had only just released Reedburr from his confinement to her den the day before, with his promise that he would return at any sign of anything wrong. Now here was Burntheart basically dragging the Deputy back, having noticed he was coughing again. “Reedburr, I told you to come back if something was wrong.” She scolded him, in a tone more sharp than most would use with the Deputy. Well she was the Medicine cat! She was allowed to scold even Goldstar, if the situation warranted it! Which this certainly did. 

At least the Deputy had the sense to look sheepish. “I apologize, Glowfish.” “You’re confined to my den for another day, at least!” She dared him to open his mouth to protest, but he closed it, seeing her gaze. He turned and dismissed Burntheart, before choosing a nest in the den to curl up in.   

Rattlekit came running into the den, causing Glowfish to turn to the kit. “Glowfish! Guess what?!” The kit yowled, as they were followed into the den by Oddthistle, who had been watching over them while they were in camp. She too looked apologetic. “What is it?” Glowfish asked. She would be worried someone was hurt, if not for Rattlekit’s happy face. They kit showed a desire to work with herbs and healing one day, and wouldn’t be smiling if someone was suffering. “Oaknettle told me he saw Lakepelt hanging out with some strange cat! Not Hayclan, Mossclan or anyone we know!” Rattlekit looked at Glowfish expectantly, as if hoping she would be excited. “A silly rumor, as I told you. Oaknettle is full of warm air.” Oddthistle told the kit, in a tone that indicated they’d been over this already. Still, there was something behind Oddthistle’s casual tone that sounded… off? Perhaps there’s more truth to the rumor than she wants Rattlekit to believe. 

~

Oaknettle spotted the outsider before Burntheart did, because of course. Burntheart was a decent warrior, but Oaknettle was simply a cut above. “That’s not a Mossclan cat.” He told the older tom, voice low as he indicated the threat. Cats that were not from the clan shouldn’t be on the territory. It seemed as if Burntheart was about to speak, but Oaknettle gave him no time. “You there!” He called, fluffing his pelt out to make himself even more impressively large. He grinned with satisfaction as the foreign cat jumped with fright. “You’d better get moving along, or I’ll make you!” He slipped his claws out of his paws, and hissed. “Oaknettle, what are you-” Burntheart’s voice cut off as the strange Loner took off at a run, heading for the other end of Mossclan territory. “Ha! Look at the scaredy cat go! Probably a Kittypet!” He returned his claws into his paws, almost a little disappointed he didn’t get challenged to a fight. “Oaknettle, we need more clanmates right now! Maybe they would have joined us, if you hadn’t frightened them off.” Burntheart was clearly angry the way his tail lashed from side to side, but Oaknettle paid it no mind. Someone was always lashing their tail at him. “Well, if they got scared off that easily, they’re not Cavernclan material. And now they won't bother Mossclan either.” He sighed. “I hate to do them a favor, but they should be thanking me.” The two toms continued the rest of the patrol to check on the clan’s tunnels, though Burntheart seemed strangely curt for the rest of the patrol. What’s got his tail in a knot?

[jaskierswolf]

The White Wolf (3/3)

Previous - AO3

Jaskier woke up with Geralt’s body draped inelegantly over his. He sniffed and mouthed at the fluffy white tail that was tickling his snout. When that didn’t get Geralt to move he bit the tail harder, not enough to make Geralt bleed but enough to elicit to yelp from the other wolf. Geralt growled and rolled off of Jaskier’s back, stretching his front paws out on the ground with a wide yawn. Jaskier tilted his head and then pounced on his boyfriend, bumping their noses together and mouthing at Geralt’s snout. Roach was safely being looked after by the younger priestesses at the temple, whilst Jaskier and Geralt hid out in the corners of the gardens until help arrived.

Geralt let out a low growl and his ears twitched as he stared intently across the garden. Jaskier let go of Geralt’s ear and sniffed. There was a mage nearby. He could smell the burning scent of a portal ripping through the air, and a new floral perfume that didn’t match the temple gardens.

He whined and grabbed his pile of clothes before running off into the bushes. He shifted easily back into his human form, hopping on his feet at the rocks dug into his soles. “Oh shit!”

He batted a branch away from his face and desperately tried to pull his trousers and shirt on.

“Geralt?”

It was a soft female sounding voice, friendly but he heard another growl from Geralt.

“Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered as he struggled to find the sleeves for his arms.

“Geralt of Rivia? I’m Triss Merigold. I’m here to help.”

“Oh bollocks!” Jaskier's shirt got caught on a branch and there was the telltale sound of fabric tearing.

“Hello?”

Jaskier burst free from the bushes with his doublet on inside out. The sorceress, Triss if he’d heard correctly, looked less than impressed by his rather dramatic entrance. He brushed off his trousers and stuck out his hand. Triss shook it tentatively.

“I’m Jaskier, Geralt’s… bard?” He glanced at the wolf who was glaring steadily at Triss. Jaskier dropped to the floor and wrapped an arm around Geralt’s neck. “He’s just a little bit shit with strangers.”

Jaskier was just glad then he didn’t recognise Triss from his childhood. That would have been  awkward to say the least. His dreams were still haunted by violet eyes to this day. Yennefer hadn’t been the worst of the mages his parents had employed but those eyes… they were so unique, beautiful and terrifying.

He barely suppressed a shudder.

“You know Yennefer?” Triss asked with wide eyes.

Jaskier closed his eyes and buried his face in Geralt’s fur to stop the wave of nausea. He’d forgotten that the most highly trained mages could read thoughts. Triss must have been a graduate from Aretuza if she knew Yennefer of Vengerberg.

“Please stay out of my head,” he mumbled.

“I am sorry, Jaskier. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yeah well…” he trailed off.  Geralt snarled at Triss, and Jaskier heard his teeth clack together. “Geralt, darling. It’s ok. She’s here to help, my dear. I’m fine I promise.”

Geralt turned around and butted his nose against Jaskier’s.

Jaskier cupped Geralt’s face, kissing his snout. “I just have some bad experiences with mages, darling.”

“You’re the shifter.”

Geralt turned back to Triss faster than lightning and pounced. She blocked him with a spell and he yelped as he crumpled to the floor. Jaskier shifted, tearing out of his clothes and roaring as he landed in front of Geralt. His long tail flicked out behind him as he pointed the venomous prongs at Triss. He stood up on his hind legs and roared again as he flapped his wings.

He heard Geralt huff behind him and he relaxed. Triss, who had been thrown back against the ground, moaned and pulled herself to her feet. Her thick curls fell in front of her eyes and she watched Jaskier and Geralt with wide-eyes.

“I thought Yen was exaggerating. You’re incredible,” she breathed and took a step towards them.

Jaskier hissed and scraped at the ground with his wings.

“Easy, Jaskier. I don’t want to hurt you, remember? I’m here to help Geralt. I need to examine him, see if I can break the spell.”

Jaskier didn’t want her near his mate and he hissed again, but Geralt had other ideas. He pounced on Jaskier’s back and bit the back of his neck.

Jaskier’s legs gave way and he fell to the floor. He’d hadn’t realised that would work in this form. Geralt was a fucking bastard. Once Geralt let go he shuddered and shifted into a cat, curled up on the ground under his partner.

Geralt licked his head once and sat down in front of Triss.

“Will you let me help?” She asked.

Jaskier looked up at Geralt who nodded once.

“Jaskier?”

Jaskier hissed lightly but nodded.

Geralt nudged Jaskier’s nose with his and then padded over to Triss.

Triss put her hand on either side of Geralt’s head and closed her eyes. Jaskier snuggled up against Geralt’s side and tried to relax enough to purr. He knew the sound comforted Geralt when he was human and he hoped it would have the same effect as a wolf. Geralt was breathing heavily and his claws dug into the earth.

“Oh Jaskier, killing him was not your smartest idea,” Triss sighed.

Jaskier hissed at the witch. He’d already beaten himself up over that one enough in the last few days, but he knew he would do it again in a heartbeat. He would protect Geralt with his life and he’d genuinely though the mage had hurt his partner.

“Hmm… no incantations. That’s a good sign. The spell was in whatever that dust was that covered Geralt,” Triss spoke almost as if she was in a trance. “I’ve not seen anything like it. He knew who you are, what you are. Perhaps it is safer this way.”

She sighed as she pulled away. Geralt gave a short sharp bark and tilted his head.

“I can’t help, but there is good news.”

Jaskier yowled at her and clambered onto Geralt’s back. He was once again hit with the urge to shift into a wolf to match his partner but he’d changed forms quickly and he wanted to preserve his energy. He still had an inherent distrust on mages and this one was too close to Geralt for his liking.

“It should wear off soon. Nenneke said it had already been four days?”

Both Jaskier and Geralt nodded.

“I can’t imagine it will be any more than another week.”

Geralt let a long whine and his ears dropped. Jaskier mewed and nuzzled into Geralt’s fur. Triss hesitantly held her hand out and Geralt bumped his nose against her palm. Jaskier’s tail flicked out behind him as he glared at the witch.

“Geralt wants you to know he’s ok, Jaskier,” She said in her simpering voice.

Jaskier hissed. He knew Geralt was fine. He was the shifter. He knew how to read animals and he knew how to read his boyfriend. He didn’t need some fancy magic lady to tell him what’s what.

“He also says to stop being so dramatic.”

Jaskier yowled and flicked his tail before nipping Geralt’s ear. He wasn’t being dramatic. She was being an arse. He tugged at Geralt’s ear with his teeth, and the wolf let out a low warning growl.

“Did you want some clothes, Jaskier?” Triss asked, hiding a giggle behind her hands.

Jaskier’s first instinct was to shake his head and hiss at the sorceress but his own clothes were currently lying shredded on the ground. With a flick of his tail he nodded, yowling angrily. He could accept her generosity, it was her fault that he’d destroyed his clothes to begin with. She should have known better than to endanger his mate. Yes, he might be acting petty, but he was grumpy, and he didn’t exactly have a good history with mages. Geralt huffed, and Jaskier fell off his back as he also nodded. Jaskier had to dig his claws into Geralt’s thick white fur to keep balanced.

Triss naturally found the whole affair far too funny for his liking but she weaved a set of beautiful emerald green clothes in the air, her eyes sparkling with mirth. Jaskier head butted Geralt with a meow, and with an audible sigh, Geralt took the silk clothes in his mouth.

“You’re welcome, Geralt, and don’t be too angry at Jaskier. He has his reasons,” Triss said sweetly, holding out her hand so Geralt could bump his nose against it as a sort of goodbye. Triss then turned to Jaskier, smiling sadly “She isn’t as bad as you think.”

Jaskier hissed. He didn’t need a reminder of Yennefer and her startling violet eyes.

“She’s been trying to find a way to help,” Triss insisted.

This time it was Geralt that let out a low snarl, pawing at the ground. Jaskier flicked his ears, feeling happily smug at Geralt’s reaction to the witch’s statement.

Triss just crossed her arms in front of her chest and rolled her eyes. “Not to cure him, that’s barbaric, but surely you’re curious? No one has ever heard of anything like him before. Yennefer has been trying to find others, she has hair and fur samples from Jaskier. If she can find others then, maybe you can finally understand where you come from, what you are?”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at the witch and let out a soft hiss, before letting his magic loose. He slid off Geralt’s back as he changed back into his human form, taking his clothes from his White Wolf. Triss blushed at his sudden nakedness but he didn’t care. She knew what he was and he was done hiding his true self.

“Yennefer worked for my mother.”

“She didn’t know about Julia’s true intentions when she agreed to help.” Jaskier scoffed. “A likely story.”

“Find her, she can help you,” Triss begged.

“I don’t need help!” Jaskier snapped. “I don’t need fixing. I. Am. Fine! I have Geralt, and our pack, I have my music, my poetry, my love. I’m happy, Triss. Why would I ruin that?”

Geralt whined next to him. Jaskier threaded his fingers through the thick white fur on the back of Geralt’s neck. He peered down at the wolf who tilted his head, a slow wag of his tail. Jaskier frowned, trying to work out what his darling witcher was trying to tell him. “Geralt? Are you saying you think we should find Yennefer?”

Geralt nodded, yellow eyes blinking up at him.

“The witch who was part of my utterly wonderful childhood?”

Geralt nodded again.

Jaskier scoffed, looking between his wolf and Triss Merigold. Triss was smiling far too smugly, she knew she’d won. Jaskier was curious about his heritage that was true, and Geralt knew that. They’d looked through the old library at Kaer Morhen but found nothing substantial. Jaskier had decided then that it didn’t matter, but now the idea of finding his own kind was once again dangling so tantalisingly within his grasp…

But then again…

So was Yennefer of Vengerberg.

Was he really ready to see her again? Would he ever be?

He looked down at Geralt, chewing his lip. Geralt butted his nose into Jaskier’s palm. Jaskier smiled faintly and nodded. He wasn’t ready to see Yennefer again, but with Geralt by his side he could do it.

“Alright then,” he said, his voice only cracking a little bit. “Where do we find Yennefer?”

Triss smirked, putting her hands on her hips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

____

Next story

More witcher fun!

[i-will-eat-your-spleen]

I flung myself at Jake, landing on his back and digging my claws in. I tried to bite at his throat, but he twisted, losing his balance, and fell on his side, on top of me. I scrambled to get his weight off me, and we were face to face again. My claws had only left a few marks on his flank, bleeding but not heavily.

A low growl rippled through my throat. I thought about the pain that Rachel must have been in as she lay bleeding out, the fact that she died alone. I thought about how brave she had been for accepting Jake’s suicide mission, knowing it would lead to her death. The unbridled rage tore through me and I launched myself at Jake again. He dodged, no aggression in his movements. He clearly didn’t want to fight me. I spun around to face him and leapt at him again, biting his ear clean off.

Jake snarled and tackled me, his teeth tearing into my shoulder. With my paw I slashed at the side of his face, and he reared back. By chance I had missed his eye.

<I don’t want to kill you,> Jake said.

<Then die!> I yelled.

Even with my shoulder wound, my leopard morph was faster than Jake’s tiger. In a flash I was on his back, digging my claws in, and he yowled in pain. I tried to access his neck, but he twisted, managing to throw me off. I was unphased. I started running straight at him, but he lifted his paw and I ran right into it. His claws tore across my face and I got blood in my right eye. Hissing, I jerked backwards.

Whoompf! I struggled to breathe as Jake let the full weight of the tiger squash me. My claws tore at the wooden floorboards of the boat, and spots were beginning to show up in my vision. At last, the weight lifted, and a bleeding Jake crawled off me and stood in front of me.

I staggered to my feet, my head spinning from lack of oxygen. To my disbelief, Jake was demorphing. I watched and waited while he became human again, my muscles tense. Was he going to remorph? Was he going to morph something else to fight me? Maybe a wolf? I prepared to demorph and remorph.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” Jake said. “If you want to kill me, you can.”

<You deserve it,> I spat. <It should have been you instead of Rachel!>

Jake looked at me with sad eyes. “If I could trade places with her, I would.”

I flung myself at Jake, prepared to go in for the kill. I knocked him to the side and stood above him, teeth bared. His eyes looked into mine, unafraid, accepting his fate calmly. I opened my jaws and lowered my fangs towards his neck.

<I can’t!> I stepped away from him, shame burning through me. What had I done? I had almost killed my old teammate, in front of my new teammates! I heard Abbacchio sigh with relief.

“How disappointing,” Crayak commented. “And here I thought you wouldn’t need any more convincing. You failed me, Lina.”

I began to demorph. <Jake has already been punished for his actions. He forever lives with the knowledge that he was the one who killed Rachel. That’s punishment enough.>

“You failed me, Lina. And it’s your friends who will pay the price,” Crayak said, its gaze turning to my friends.

“Leave them out of it,” I snapped, my mouth appearing. I continued to demorph.

“I already told you, Lina. Your friends are part of my game. And now I’m using them.”

“Don’t! Whatever you’re going to do to them, do to me instead!” I insisted.

“Lina!” Bucciarati said sharply. I had almost never heard him use that tone with me.

“Bucciarati,” I replied, “I can’t let them hurt you! All of this is my fault. Let me take this.”

“Your fault? You never asked for this!” Narancia shouted.

“We’re your friends and we’re supposed to help you!” Trish added.

“I’m an animorph,” I responded. “I’m not normal, and I’m not a stand user. This is my fight, not yours.”

“Lina, what are you-“ Abbacchio began, but got cut off by the Drode.

“I have the perfect punishment for our friend here. Let’s make her a nothlit. A fly would be a good morph to get trapped in, wouldn’t it? They don’t live long.” The Drode cackled.

“No!” Giorno yelled.

The Drode turned towards him with a creepy grin on its face. “Sorry, but your friend here will only have a day or two to live.”

“It should be me,” Jake said, stepping forward. “Crayak, you wanted me dead. I’ll turn into a fly nothlit if you want. Lina doesn’t deserve this!” Jake’s voice was full of panic.

“Sorry Jake,” Crayak replied casually. “But there are rules to my game, and you can’t take Lina’s place.”

“Don’t do this to her,” Jake begged. “I can’t lose another animorph!”

“Leave her alone Crayak!” Mista snapped. “If I could use my stand right now I’d make you blind!”

“Rules are rules,” Crayak said. It turned to me. “Morph fly. Now.”

“Don’t do it, Lina!” Bucciarati shouted, sounding furious.

Despite the protests of my friends, I concentrated on the fly DNA inside me. I began to shrink. My vision changed from normal human vision to the pixelated vision of the fly. My human legs shriveled up and shrank, becoming puny fly legs. Wings sprouted from my back, and my mouth and nose melted together, the fly’s elongated tube mouth replacing them. The exoskeleton formed, the wings sprouted from my back, and I shrank until at last the morph was complete. And just like that, I was inside a glass jar. Damn Crayak’s powers. It wanted to make sure I couldn’t demorph.

“Now what should we do for the two hours until you get stuck in morph?” Crayak asked me.

“Why don’t we replay some highlights of Lina’s animorph career?” The Drode suggested gleefully.

“Perfect,” Crayak answered.

My heart sank. The gang would see my worst moments. When Jake sent me after David, when I killed the Yeerks in the Yeerk pool- and whatever other dirt Crayak had on me from countless battles I’d been in. If I had tear ducts, I would have started crying.

That was when it happened- we were no longer on a boat in Italy. Instead we were in my hometown- more specifically the Yeerk pool under the school. A battle was raging between us animorphs and the cannibalistic Taxxon aliens and the hulking bladed Hork-Bajir. I watched the battle rage on, catching sight of myself in wolf morph beside Cassie. Our thought-speak cries echoed throughout the room. Everyone stared in horror. I watched as I ripped out a Hork-Bajir’s throat. I watched myself demorph and sneak toward the control panel of the Yeerk pool, raising the temperature to boil the alien slugs alive. I saw my face contort with a grim smile.

<No! Lina, what are you doing?> Cassie asked.

“Killing our enemies,” I had whispered. “You need to stop being so soft, Cassie!” I watched myself remorph and leap for a Taxxon. The bloodshed went on, and my friends watched in horror. When we retreated from the Yeerk pool, Crayak stopped the playing of my memory and we were back on the boat again.

“This is the moment you realized you could use her as a weapon, right?” Crayak asked Jake. “She committed genocide right in front of you. How many Yeerks do you think were in the pool? One hundred? A thousand? Probably around three hundred. All dead because of her.”

“Yes,” Jake answered, his voice thick with shame.

The Drode turned to my friends. “What do you think of Lina now?”

“You need to stop this,” Trish said. “Nothing changes the fact that she’s our family now.”

“War is horrific, but you do what you need to do,” Fugo added.

“I told you, I’ll take her punishment instead!” Jake repeated.

Crayak turned to him. “Why don’t I show everyone your part in this?”

Jake glanced at the gang. “This is all my fault,” he said. “Go ahead. Show them what I did to Lina. I deserve it.”

“Lina, we’re going to get you out of there somehow,” Giorno said, determination in his voice. I didn’t reply.

The scene changed before us. We were outside my school, and I watched Rachel, alive and well, jam a fork against David’s ear. I watched myself grab him by the throat, my fingernails digging into his skin as I choked him.

Rachel dropped the fork and grabbed me. “Lina, stop.”

I had ignored her. David grabbed at my hands, scratching them. Watching this memory of myself outside my body and seeing the determined, furious look on my younger self’s face was frightening.

“Lina! Stop!” Rachel said sharply, yanking me off David. He spluttered and choked.

“I had him!” I snapped at Rachel as David began walking away. “I had him and you were really going to let him go?! No! No! I can take him! What’s wrong with you? You’re letting him get away!”

Rachel held me back. Crayak paused the memory. “I bet you didn’t anticipate Rachel being the sensible one in this situation, did you, Jake? Lina surely would have killed David in a blind rage- or gotten herself killed trying to go after him.”

<That’s what happened after Jake asked me to go with Rachel after David,> I told the gang, ashamed. <I-I probably would have killed him. Or he would have killed me. Crayak is right.>

“My master is always right,” The Drode said. “You should listen to him more often. But you blew it, Lina.”

<I guess I’m more bloodthirsty than you thought, huh, Jake?> I asked.

“I-I guess I should have worried about you and Rachel an equal amount,” Jake admitted.

“Quit playing games, Crayak!” Narancia snapped. “Jake offered to take Lina’s place, so just switch them out! Let her go!”

“What would be the fun in that?” Crayak asked. The Drode laughed.

“Bastards,” Abbacchio spat at both of them.

Bucciarati was quiet, and I began to wonder why. Was he shocked? Horrified? He sympathized with me over the war, yeah, all of them did. But how could they treat me like I was normal? I had tried to kill someone in a blind rage.

Crayak turned towards Fugo. “I know what you’re thinking right now- is there really a difference between me and Lina? Why am I condemning her actions but not yours? Pannacotta Fugo, the answer is, you don’t embrace your dark side. Lina does. All of you would rather not fight if you had to, but Lina? She enjoys it. She enjoys bloodshed just as much Rachel. In fact, she was happy to find something so unjust that would allow her to be violent. She embraced her darkness.”

<Shut up,> I begged it. <Shut. Up.>

<Bucciarati,> I said in private thought-speak, <I’m sorry I’m not who you thought I am>.

Bucciarati still didn’t say anything.

“Nothing you show us will affect our view of Lina,” Mista spoke up. “I don’t know how many times we have to keep telling you this.”