#stork-kit

[talonslockau]

Fire and Ice - Chapter 55

< Chapter 54 || Index || Chapter 56 >

He woke as the first rays of morning began filtering through the cracks in the Twoleg nest. Ravenspirit had left after waking Wrenfeather and Pigeonflight: They now sat stiffly in the wide entrance, watching as the Clan began to stir. Fireheart sat up, looking past them to see that the storm had passed in the night and left a clear sky behind. It was good that they wouldn’t have to travel through the rain, though the air held a chill that it hadn’t the day before.

Peppermask and Graystripe roused beside him. “Morning already?” Graystripe mumbled, sitting up with bleary yellow eyes. “I guess that means we’ll be leaving soon.”

“We could be home tonight.” Peppermask murmured beside him as she stood and stretched out. “Sleeping in our own nests for a change!” 

Fireheart perked up at the thought. It was true; even if the journey to Windclan’s camp took all day, they would still be able to travel through the night back home. It felt like they had been gone for almost a moon now, though he knew in his heart it had only been a few days. “Hopefully Quickflash won’t immediately put you two on the dawn patrol.” He teased, flicking the sleepy gray tom with his tail.

Graystripe moaned at the thought. “He better not! I’d like to sleep in for a change.” Still, he straightened up, slightly more awake now. “Do you think there’s any mice left over from last night?”  He wondered as he gazed around.

“I think you ate most of it yesterday!” The flame-colored warrior joked as he stood up. There was still a small pile, which Deadfoot was doling out to the rest of the Clan. “We should probably just share one. We ate plenty last night; we don’t need to eat much more.” 

“Speak for yourself.” The other tom grumbled. Still, he trotted over to gingerly take one from the pile. The Windclan deputy didn’t intervene as he brought it back over. It was rather small for three cats to share, but they didn’t complain as they dug in.

Fireheart sat up and cleaned his whiskers once he was finished, savoring every last morsel. They wouldn’t get to eat more until they returned home. He sat comfortably in the dried grass, watching as Windclan began to gather themselves. They looked better today, now that they had had time to rest and good food to eat, but they were still exhausted and worn out from the long journey and the hard season they had endured. The rest of the trek back to Windclan territory would still be arduous for them.

They began to congregate at the entrance of the Twoleg nest, Tallstar standing tall in the morning light. He looked strong, Fireheart noted with pleasure; as proud and regal as the other leaders had been. He was ready to face whatever challenges awaited Windclan today.

Finally, the sleek black and white tom turned to the three Thunderclanners. “It’s time for us to set off.” He told them, flicking his tail towards Windclan territory. “Fireheart, Graystripe, why don’t you two scout ahead? You seem somewhat familiar with this area.” He nodded towards the now barren fields that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see.

“Right away, Tallstar.” The ruddy Thunderclan tom mewed, beckoning his friend to follow him. They raced away, scenting at the air for any hidden dangers. The Twolegs were finally out, apparently surveying their territory, but they could be seen coming from far away, and with the two toms alternating reporting back Windclan avoided them easily.

By sunhigh, they had reached the dirt path that separated Barley and Ravenspirit’s farm from Windclan territory. The two Thunderclan warriors waited at the top of the slope, watching for any Monsters that dared to come by, but thankfully none dared approach as the Windclan procession made its way up the hill into the grasslands beyond.

The wind rustled through the tall grass, bringing with it the sweet scent of heather. Many of the Windclanners lifted their heads and took a deep breath, smiles creeping to their faces even as the wind buffeted against them. Their tails lifted, some intertwining with their mates and their kin.

With a flick of Tallstar’s tail, the Clan took off swiftly, their aches and pains soothed by the familiar territory. Even Crowskip, the elder, was moving faster, nearly as fast as Fireheart and Graystripe could run. They wordlessly fell back towards the end of the patrol where Peppermask was, grinning to each other. They had done what had seemed impossible; Windclan was home at last!

They followed a narrow rabbit trail through the sedge and grasses. Fireheart had no idea how they seemed to find these natural paths so easily and effortlessly, but he supposed that was the benefit of living on the moors for so long. The land rose and fell, almost imperceptibly, but all the cats took it in stride as they streamed across the moors towards their home.

At last, they paused at a rocky outcropping, tall and thin rocks stretching up towards the clouds around them. “Rabbitrocks.” Deadfoot murmured near him. “I never thought I’d see them again.” 

The ginger warrior took a closer look at them. The stones around them looked a bit like rabbit ears, he supposed; perhaps that was where they’d gotten their name.

From here, they had a clear vantage point over the moors, and he could see the gorse bushes that made up Windclan camp were not too far in the distance. All around him, the Windclanners’ eyes were sparkling as they recognized their home. Morningflower leaned down to her kits gathered around her and pointed it out with a paw, eliciting gasps of wonder.

Tallstar gestured for a group of warriors to approach. “Secure the camp. Make sure no unwanted intruders have moved in while we’ve been away.” They nodded and raced off, leaving the rest of the Clan to sit and catch their breath from the journey across the moors. Whitepaw and a few other apprentices giggled, launching into a rousing game of tag and bouncing around the rocks in excitement. 

He tore his gaze away from them as the leader approached, his golden eyes shining in joy. “My Clan is grateful for all you have done.” He spoke to all three of the Thunderclanners. “You have shown yourselves as warriors worthy of Starclan’s blessing, and Windclan will never forget what you have done for us.”

Fireheart dipped his head respectfully. “Of course, Tallstar. We are glad we were able to accompany you.”

He flicked a black ear in acknowledgement of the Thunderclan tom’s words. “Now that Windclan has come home, it is time for you to return to yours. Deadfoot and Thrushwing will escort you to Fourtrees.” He gestured for the deputy and a tawny and gray warrior to step forward.

The ginger warrior glanced hesitantly towards his companions. Surely they didn’t need a warrior escort when they were just returning home?

Peppermask stepped forward with a graceful dip of her head. “Thank you, Tallstar. We are grateful for the aid navigating your territory.” The other two toms quickly murmured assent to her words.

“Think nothing of it.” The black and white tom mewed with a purr. “All three of you have served Windclan well. Tell Bluestar that Windclan will not forget it was Thunderclan who brought them home.”

Deadfoot began padding towards Fourtrees as soon as they said their goodbyes, waving his tail for them to follow. He led them through a worn path in the sedge bushes, walking carefully but purposefully. Fireheart hadn’t gotten a chance to look at the deputy walk until now, but he was surprised to see that despite his twisted leg the tom moved just as swiftly and smoothly as the rest of his Clan. 

“I hope Pebblestrike and Cloudjump can see us now.” The molly mewed from behind the three Thunderclanners as they walked. He glanced behind him to see her gaze wistfully looking up to the sky. There were no stars yet, as the sun was still blazing brightly in the sky, but that didn’t seem to bother her. “They didn’t sacrifice their lives for nothing.”

The deputy tilted his head slightly, a small frown on his face. “Yes.” Deadfoot agreed, not elaborating further as he turned his attention back to where they were going.

Fireheart could sense the tension in the air as they walked, his fur prickling despite himself. Still, he didn’t see any reason to interrupt or mediate; this wasn’t his Clan or his argument to intervene in.

They walked silently, their pace slower than the race to Rabbitrocks but swift all the same. The ruddy tom appreciated it; though he didn’t complain, his muscles fiercely protested having to move at all. He couldn’t wait to sink into his nice, soft nest next to Graystripe, and sleep until the sun rose the next morning.

The sun lowered further and further behind them, until it was nearly touching the horizon. He was just beginning to wonder if they would reach Fourtrees before sunset when he saw the branches of the towering oaks in the sky in front of them. Deadfoot’s pace quickened slightly, evidently eager to get rid of his charges. 

At last they reached the slope up to the hollow, and the black tom turned to face them. “I trust you can find your way home from here?” He mewed, his nose wrinkling against the Shadowclan scent that still lingered in the air.

All three of them nodded quickly in assent. “Good.” The deputy mewed, turning to the other Windclanner. “Let us mark the Shadowclan border on our way home. Regardless of who leads now, they must know that they are no longer welcome on our moors.” 

The Thunderclanners waved their tails in farewell as they trudged up the slope, turning for a moment to watch the two Windclanners leave. “It’s finally over.” Peppermask mewed softly as she looked on. “For all his bluster, Brokentail failed.”

Fireheart nodded. “Quite miserably, too.” He added with a small grin to Graystripe. “‘Don’t waste my time, apprentice!’” He growled in an admittedly poor imitation of the former Shadowclan leader, the other tom chuffing in amusement.

“Come on, the sooner we get going, the sooner we can sleep!” Graystripe mewed, bounding across the slope of Fourtrees with renewed energy. Fireheart and Peppermask followed quickly, the thought of sinking into their mossy nest filling them with new vigor. They might even return before moonhigh, at this rate!

It took no time for them to cross the grassy clearing and up the slope to Riverclan territory. The water sparkled orange in the setting sun, but the depths beneath the surface were a deep crimson red. The fur along his spine prickled uncomfortably at the sight, too much like the blood that had been spilled in Windclan’s camp. Still, he tried not to let it get to him as he chased Graystripe down the slope to the large fallen tree that joined each bank of the river.

“Hurry up, slowpoke!” He yowled as the gray warrior hopped up and began crossing. “Do you want to get home or not?”

“Why don’t you hurry up, then?” The other tom teased as he began walking across. “Seems to me you’re the one slowing us down!”

“Why, you!” Fireheart growled, jumping up on the tree to follow the tom. He ignored the water below him as he hurried towards Graystripe, eyes sparkling mischievously. “I’ll show you slow-”

A sudden gust of wind rushed past them, stealing away his words and throwing him off balance. He instinctively flexed out his claws, but before they could find purchase in the wood, he felt the tree shift below both of them. Before he could even cry out, the log rolled over, sending both warriors plunging into the depths below.

[trashogram]

OK picture this silly scenario that I'm not sure it's possible but let's roll with it for entertainment sake:

Reader, Human or turned Toon, gets pregnant. How would the Patrol take it? Would they fight kver who's is it? Take responsability or be like "nope! Not my problem madam"? Would they have to explain to Stupid the flowers and the bees? Would Psycho think why did you eat a baby? 😔🫶🏻

Oh boy this is definitely a scenario 😅

Reader is a miracle of science and art here. But also, imagining a woman giving birth to baby toon weasels is so insanely bizarre that it tickles my funny bone. Yes they’d probably fight over it and I doubt they would just abandon Reader, regardless of how evil they are.

(Psycho: “You didn’t save any leftover baby for me?” 🥺🥺🥺)

((Tell me why I tried to find out if weasels were capable of superfecundation when there’s no way that that would apply here bc these are cartoons and Reader isn’t even a weasel herself 🙂‍↕️))

[bonefall]

I like to imagine instead of like ‘did your parents drop you as a baby’ it’s something like ‘did your guide take your brain’ or something to that effect

God assigned you stupid. Sorry.

That's good, I like that too!

"The best part of you stayed in the stars"

"They put your face on backwards"

"StarClan makes no mistakes; and you are a real masterpiece of stupidity"

"Somewhere out there a litter of mice is missing a genius"

[westerncityrailroad]

[lemonsprite]

𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐥’𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 || 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐱 𝐆𝐢𝐦𝐥𝐢

Summary: Mahal has blessed Gimli and Legolas with a gift

Word count: 826

Warnings: none! All fluff :)

A/N: side note I love the headcanon that hobbits are like cabbage patch kids and that dwarves are like those Nat Geo archeology kits

“A rock?” Asked Legolas, raising an eyebrow at the uneven stone in his hands. The elf looked down at Gimli with confusion.

“Nay.” The dwarf shook his head, smiling, and took the stone (practically boulder) from Legolas’ hands.

“A rock from Mahal.”

Legolas was silent, staring at Gimli as if he was insane.

“And what does that mean?”

The dwarf’s face went as red as his hair, his eyes looking everywhere but Legolas. The rock was so big Gimli’s hands could hardly cradle it and Legolas couldn’t help but be intrigued by the strange stone. It was lumpy and sharp as if the rock had just been chipped from the mountainside and scraped the palms of Legolas’ smooth hands.

“You don’t know much about dwarven culture, yes?”

Legolas nodded his head suspiciously, eyeing the stone.

“Well, when Mahal made us in the forges he created a second one for each of us, an eternal partner, our one.”

The elven prince stood silently in agreement. After all, he was quite familiar with at the very least, this ideal. His father, Thranduil, had complained more than once about that dwarven prince and Tauriel.

“Well.” Gimli began once more, one of his gruff hands fiddling nervously with the braids of his beard. “Once you have met your one and Mahal has deemed you ready you are to be gifted a child.”

“A child…” Legolas thought aloud, his eyes narrowing in thought at the dwarf next to him. “You mean to tell me that stone…”

“Is an infant.” Gimli finished for the elf, holding the rock closer to his chest. “It is how we Khazâd are born.”

Legolas was silent, processing everything Gimli had just revealed.

“But…” He began, furrowing his brow in confusion. “That would mean you’d have found your one, would it not?”

If possible, Gimli’s face turned even redder, his eyes frantically searching the ground beneath Legolas’ face so as to not look him in the eyes.

“Aye.”

Legolas froze, Gimli’s confirmation suddenly causing his stomach to sink, Legolas stuck now with the undeniable evidence that he’d have to be sharing Gimli with someone else.

He quickly dispelled these thoughts. Legolas placed his hand tenderly on the other's shoulder, throwing a gentle smile on his face before his friend beside him could even notice anything off.

“Why Gimli, that's… Great.” The dwarf practically flushed at Legolas’ words, caressing his thumb against the rough exterior of the stone.

“Who is she?”

Gimli froze, staring perplexed at Legolas.

“What do you mean she?” He asked, his gruff voice filled with surprise.

“Your one.” Explained the elf. ‘Why was Gimli so confused?’

Gimli stared at him as if he’d punched the dwarf right between his eyes. “My dear friend-” He sighed, exasperated, running a hand down his face. “You are my one.”

Legolas felt as if the Valar themselves had just descended from above, blood rushing to his face faster than he could string a bow. The elf was silent, wanting to say so many things at once yet nothing came.

Gimli frowned, holding the rock in his arms tighter. “I understand if you do not feel the same.” He sighed heavily. “after all, you are an elf-”

Before the dwarrow could finish his sentence Legolas was upon him like a stork to bird seed. He engulfed Gimli in a hug that would crush a mortal man.

“The Rock Legolas!” Gimli exclaimed, buried in the elven princes arms.

Legolas released him, holding Gimli an arms length away. He nodded his head vigorously, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like his father telling him off.

“Apologizes… I got away from myself… I just…” Legolas trailed off, a small giddy smile crossing his lips. He could not believe the news he was hearing. Gimli was his, he was Gimli’s. They were meant for each other… after all according to the dwarves they were fated, it was destined by the gods.

Gimli looked tenderly up at Legolas, cradling the rock in his arms.

“Aye… you… do feel the same yes?” He asked, searching the Elves face for confirmation.

“Very…! A child Gimli!” He exclaimed, and the dwarf had never seen Legolas so joyous. “Our child!”

Legolas grabbed Gimli’s hands so that both were now holding the stone and smiled brightly down at the dwarf. His hands completely swallowed Legolas’, Gimli’s palms scarred and calloused from years spent in the forage.

“Meleth nîn.” Said Legolas quietly. “Thalion nîn, Melethron nîn.”

Gimli smiled, his ears picking up on what little he knew of the Sindarin language.

“One of these days I must teach you Khuzdul.” He said, looking down at the small boulder cradled in their hands. “Your elvish language is to sweet.”

“My word say nothing but the truth.” Said Legolas tenderly. “I’ve waited long for a moment like this.”

He leaned his head down as best he could, touching his forehead to Gimli’s the rock laid dormant between them.

Jojo try not to mischaracterize Legolas challenge (impossible)

[mirror-imageclangen]

Minor Lore/Role changes

figured id lay out how some roles have different names and a bit of lore on how this world works b4 we start :3

medicine cats are called healers and have very little communication with starclan

mind-healers are healers who have no communication with starclan and specialize in mental health rather than herbs. these cats are always carefully selected and trained and there is never only one in the clan

mediators are a role in this universe, they handle taking important messages to other clans and border disputes aswell as acting as unbiased parties during gatherings!

storks are cats who have chosen to stay in the nursey permanently, they give advice to new parents, help raise the kits, and defend the nursery if needed

cats outside of the clans go to starclan! they usually have other names for it, but they do go there. cats usually stay in their own areas though

the dark forest is called The Under, and is a desolate wasteland with no plants or wildlife. the longer a spirit lingers in The Under, the more their form will distort and the more theyll forget about their life and who they are

the mountain tunnels Lyrestone and the others settle in are next to a beach!

The Veil has torn

more will be revealed as the story progresses! :3

[pianokantzart]

Hey there! I might pop in your notifications as slowly creeping through your blog, liking and commenting on posts, as I'm ought to do for many social media accounts I find. You can call me Apple. :)

I have a question for you regarding your Mario Animal AU. It seems that Mario and Luigi are brothers in said AU, but it left me wondering…

If they're actually biological brothers, then why is Luigi a Red Fox unlike seemingly everyone else in his family? Am I reading it wrong and he's actually adopted, or is there some weird magical animal shtick going on?

Hello Apple! Thanks for stopping in! Well... it's actually a little bit of a long story. I figure now is as good a time as any to tell it! Hope you don't mind this can of worms you accidentally opened. The lore is actually based off of the Yoshi's Island game, but with a spin. Originally, the storks were supposed to bring Mario to his family as an only child, but when a fleet of kappa captured a bunch of newborn forest animals mid-delivery, Mario ended up being dropped, and was saved by an alpaca named Yoshi. Normally, alpacas– being mountainous animals– keep out of the business of forest animals, but seeing the baby tanuki and realizing the extent of what was happening, Yoshi's herd decided to assist the storks in a rescue mission.

Storming The Dark Lands with baby Mario in tow, the alpacas helped gather and return the baby animals to the care of the storks so they could be delivered to their proper families. In the mayhem Mario wandered off, and was lost for some time. Yoshi had nearly worked himself into a heart attack by the time he finally located the baby tanuki deep in the heart of The Darklands, clinging to a tiny fox who had been hidden away in the castle depths.

The alpacas were confused– there were no known foxes for miles around. The storks, too, had no earthly idea who the kit belonged to or where to deliver him. Whatever the case, Mario refused to let the fox go, and fought viciously against whoever tried to separate them. The fox, in turn, seemed to be unwilling to hold still or trust in anyone unless Mario was there to comfort him. That is why, when the baby tanuki was finally delivered, he and the fox were delivered as a pair of twins. Naturally, Mario's parents were astonished and more than a little confused... but a stork's delivery was a stork's delivery. If they were brought a fox, that fox was their child, simple as that.

[far-side-skies]

📂 Stork and Radarr's friendship

Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have

Hmmmm, I'm not sure which of my headcanons for these two could be considered 'useless', but here goes.

A lot of the traps on the Condor were built with Radarr's help. Stork a skinny beanpole to rule all the beanpoles, but there are nooks and crannies in the Condor that even he can't squeeze himself into. Which sucks, because they'd be the perfect places to put traps. So he employs lil ole Radarr in his endeavours, and together they've kitted out every possible spot on the ship with booby traps galore. Radarr has learned a lot about engineering and mechanics from Stork as a result, and it's how he is able to do things like build a skimmer from rusty scrap in the Escape episode.

[thebunnylord]

The engines answers: “where do babies come from?”

Thomas: uh….

Edward: from the mom’s stomach, I don’t know how they get in there though,

Henry: I think they just pop into existence??

Gordon: they fall from the sky

Percy: I’m pretty sure you order one by mail and they come on the mail train. Why else would they say “delivering a baby” if it’s not by mail?

James: um

Toby: they come from the same place as lambs

Duck: I don’t know, ask Oliver

Donald: eggs, they hatch from eggs like a duck.

Douglas: where do babies come from?

Oliver: ask Duck.

Emily: (Actually knows but isn’t telling)

Diesel: you buy a special kit from the hospital and build them

Toad: the stork delivers it.

[helluvatimes]

Fruitful And Multiplying

A milky stork returning to the colony with nesting material in the Mandai area. Photo credit: Jonathan Chua.

This was captured on a tripod as I was using an un-stabilized kit. That was some eleven years ago when I was also very accustomed to shooting on tripod. However, some time later, I had ditched the tripod for more flexibility in stalking birds and snakes.

[mihinisland]

A short piece for Mihin Island 🌉

i. Context (you can go straight to Part II if you like rawdogging original universes :D):

The Mihin Island universe;

Humans, kemonomimi and anthros can have biological children, but can also receive babies from storks.

Considered a supernatural phenomenon, stork baby delivery seems to befall random individuals at random times. The babies received are ‘random’ as well; they can be of any species, with any kind of health status.

The babies come in a basket with basic accessories and ID.

No one knows where the storks or the babies come from.

What to do when you receive a stork baby:

laws vary by state.

In Florida, where our main characters live, the stork baby has to be surrendered immediately to a hospital equipped to handle them. The baby will then be quarantined, and assessed for any health issues.

Some ‘parents’ may simply abandon their infants at the hospital. But if a baby recipient does want to keep their new child, they will be subject to a background check, and will have to fill in the paperwork.

Finally, a stork baby may go home with its parent(s), or become state custody.

ii. Ben is A Grandpa

(Here's a link containing Ben's latest ref sheet:)

1994

Ben's feline ears perked up first, an automatic response to hearing that familiar ringing sound.

He looked up from his printer, which was still spewing out paperwork for his next meeting, and saw the device at his desk; his office phone was receiving a call. Ben sighed, a bit tired; his first worry was that it was going to be Amir from Diamondways again.

The catman walked up to the phone and hesitated for just a split second. Finally he picked the handset up and answered.

"Hello?"

"Dad?"

"Oh, Dirk!" The catman relaxed completely, sitting down in his chair. "What's up?"

A deep sigh. "Wow. So..."

"Yes...?" Hearing his son hesitate had certainly piqued Ben's curiosity, without him overthinking it so far.

"I think... well... you're a grandpa, now?"

Ben tried to think about this statement for a moment.

"...I-I mean, I didn't call you to say like, I had sex with Maelle or something," Dirk quickly continued, realizing what a situation like that normally entailed. "Actually... we, uh, we had a stork baby."

"Oh! Seriously? What—"

"Y-yeah!" Dirk explained excitedly. "We were just having lunch at, uh, Coffee & Candy, then the bird smashed the windows, demanding to be let in. Someone opened the door, it walked up to Maelle and dropped the baby!" The half-human's voice faltered a little.

"Really." Ben himself was trying to acknowledge this was actually happening. He was now standing up, his crooked black tail quivering. "So— now what, are you at the hospital?"

"Yeah. With Maelle. They're still checking her health and everything."

"Oh," Ben breathed. "It's a she?"

"Mhm. Human. And, uh, she came with the name 'Hani'."

"That's beautiful. You're..."

Both father and son paused for a moment, taking it all in.

"...I mean, you're gonna keep her, right?"

"Mhm," Dirk squeaked, full of emotion; his father purred softly, empathetically.

Dirk purred and sniffled. "Are you gonna come and see her?"

"Of course." If he could, Ben would be giving Dirk the biggest dad hug he's ever given. "I'll go get your mom. You've gotta wait for us, after work, okay? And did you call her?"

"Nope! You'll do that, then?"

"I will, kit. Thanks for calling. You've made my day, love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

"And Maelle, my love. G'bye!"

The catman set his handset back down, tail still swishing. Agh, he couldn't think about his to-do list now. He had to be there for his son and daughter-in-law! They were finally getting the family they wanted; damn this office!

Ben impatiently grabbed the handset again, and punched in his wife's office phone number—if he was going to feel antsy for the rest of the day, he might as well find himself some company.

🔗 Blog navigation

[talonslockau]

Fire and Ice - Chapter 53

< Chapter 52 || Index || Chapter 54 >

Fireheart’s tail flickered nervously as he emerged from the heather-covered tunnel. Leading a few friends into the unknown was one thing; leading an entire Clan like this was another. He could only imagine how Tallstar must have felt, leading his frightened Clan away from their ancient home to settle here.

He stared at the wide, empty expanse in front of him as Tallstar emerged behind him. “Uh…” He realized now that he hadn’t been keeping track of where they had been going. He wished now that Peppermask had been chosen to lead the Clan; tracking his way back was difficult with the Thunderpath stench in the air.

“Is something wrong?” The black and white tom asked him, his golden gaze scrutinizing as he stared down the young ginger warrior.

“Of course not.” Fireheart replied quickly as he caught sight of the trail Whitepaw had left in her hurry to escape the three Thunderclanners. “Just a bit disoriented with all the Thunderpaths.”

Tallstar nodded sympathetically. “It took our warriors some time to adjust as well.” He admitted as he paced alongside the ruddy tom. “But the Monsters have kept us safe from predators. No badger or fox dares to cross the Thunderpaths.”

Fireheart nodded in understanding. He could see the logic in choosing to settle here, but he could tell that this place also did not have much in the way of prey. Though he would never say it out loud, it was clear that Windclan had been starving when he arrived; he wasn’t sure if they would have survived through leafbare here.

Windclan was silent and solemn behind him, not wasting their energy on idle chatter as they traveled. He could see several shivering in the cold leaffall winds that heralded the coming of leafbare, though his own thick bright pelt kept the breeze at bay. The midday sun helped some too; he was especially glad now that they had not waited until nightfall to travel. He expected the coming night would be an especially chilly one.

He soon found the spot where Whitepaw had wrestled with the rabbit, claw marks still embedded in the dirt. From here, it was a matter of finding the nearest earthbound Thunderpath - one he could see in the distance as Monsters rushed by.

He led the Clan confidently onwards now, wading into the grasses without hesitation. He began to slowly crouch down as he approached, all too aware of what might happen if the Monsters spotted them. The grass thinned quickly until it was almost bare at the side of the Thunderpath, but he could clearly see the tunnel entrance from here, dark and ominous.

“And you’re certain that it leads to the other side?” Tallstar murmured as he crouched down beside the Thunderclan tom.

“I am.” Fireheart replied readily. “I’ll go first, so you and your Clan can see.”

Tallstar didn’t object as the ginger tom darted into the yawning stone mouth, the darkness quickly swallowing him. The earth rumbled around him, but he didn’t pause as he dashed across to the other side, blinking in relief as he emerged from the earth into the light. He stood and yowled to get the Windclan leader’s attention, barely audible over the roaring of the Monsters. Thankfully, they didn’t notice him, but he could see the black and white tail of the leader waving in acknowledgement.

The Windclanners entered the tunnel one by one, soon emerging on the other side. Part of Fireheart worried that the Monsters would notice what they were doing, but none seemed to slow as they raced past. He eyed the sun nervously, his heart pounding as time passed far too slowly, but at last Deadfoot and Graystripe emerged from the end of the tunnel.

“Where to now?” Tallstar asked cautiously as he looked around.

“This way.” Fireheart nodded towards the towering Twoleg nest, a tall beacon in the sky. The other tom nodded, and together they began once more leading the Clan forward.

The now-familiar bright flowers and tall grasses that surrounded this second Monstercamp greeted the ginger tom, waving silently in the breeze. The Monstercamp was nearly empty now; where countless smaller Monsters had gathered around the Twoleg nest before, he could now count only a dozen or so Monsters, most still sleeping right in front of it. He breathed a small sigh of relief at the realization; less Monsters meant less Twolegs to notice them.

“Over here.” He murmured, flicking his tail towards the back of the Monstercamp. Even if they weren’t likely to be seen, it was still daylight; he didn’t want to take any risks being caught. They proceeded cautiously, Fireheart watching the Twoleg nest warily.

A few Twolegs exited out of the side of the nest, carrying large colorful boxes with them. One of them gestured roughly towards where the Clan was making their way across, and he froze, fearful that they had been seen. They didn’t move towards where the Clan was hiding, however, instead tottering over to a gray Monster and coaxing open the back shell, where they began shoving their large boxes in.

For a moment, he breathed a sigh of relief and began moving forward, before he heard the barking of a dog. Looking back, he could now see a small shaggy dog rushing across the Monstercamp towards Peppermask and the queens, yapping angrily as it did so. “Go!” He yowled at Tallstar and the other Windclanners, rushing back to intercept the dog. He didn’t care if he was now spotted: what mattered was keeping the queens and kits safe from the beast.

Graystripe and Deadfoot raced up next to him, bristling and hissing ferociously at the dog as it approached. Several other warriors came up beside them as the rest of the Clan broke into a disorganized run, trying to avoid getting caught and attacked.

The brown mutt backpedaled to a halt mere tail-lengths away as it saw the advancing line of cats, claws unsheathed and furiously growling at the intruder. Yipping fearfully, it turned and rushed back, its tail between its legs as it howled for its Twolegs to help. 

“Hurry! This way!” Fireheart hissed, rushing into the tall grasses to hide. The others did the same, hunkering down and watching as the small dog began racing around its Twolegs, barking for their attention. One looked down in confusion, looking back to where it had pointed, but it didn’t seem to spot the warriors. Once again, it pointed to the grasses and then turned to continue loading the boxes into the Monster.

“We should leave before they investigate.” He murmured to the other warriors, who nodded and followed him as they quickly and stealthily followed after the rest of the Clan.

They found them in the hedges that surrounded the first Monstercamp they encountered. “Is everyone alright?” Fireheart asked quickly as he came up next to Tallstar.

“A few torn claws, and Crowskip fell and bruised himself, but nothing that some rest won’t solve.” A light brown tom beside Tallstar spoke - the healer, he assumed. “What about the rest of you? Did you have to fight it?”

Fireheart shook his head. “The dog realized it was outnumbered and fled back for its Twolegs, tail between its legs!” There were purrs of amusement at his words, though they were hollow and tired. Running so quickly seemed to have drained most of the Clan of energy.

“Will we be alright if we rest here?” Tallstar murmured anxiously as he gazed around at his Clan. “They will need time to recover.” 

The ruddy tom paused to look around. Tallstar was right; they would not make it much farther, and the three Thunderclanners hadn’t found any shelter between here and Windclan. “We didn’t run into any dangers on the way here.” He finally said aloud. “But that doesn’t mean there are none.”

Tallstar sighed heavily, the warrior’s answer clearly weighing on him. “It will have to do. Deadfoot, see if you can set up a perimeter.”

The black tom nodded and began moving about the Clan, picking several of the most fit warriors to begin patrolling. Fireheart nodded quickly to Graystripe and walked towards where Peppermask was sitting with Larksplash and several kits.

“Fireheart, Graystripe!” She purred as they approached. “These are Morningflower’s kits. Aren’t they precious?” She flicked her tail towards a pale tortoiseshell molly that was laying in the sun, still winded from the scare earlier.

“Of course they are.” He looked down at the three kits in front of them; barely a season old, if he had to guess. They looked up at him curiously, and he leaned down to touch noses with them.

“Gorsekit is the ginger tom, Stork-kit is the tortoiseshell, and Quailkit is the little gray molly.” Peppermask pointed each out with her striped tail. “They’ve been very sweet so far!”

“Is it true you’re from Thunderclan?” The small tom, Gorsekit, piped up. “Crowskip says Thunderclan lives in a big forest, which is a place with lots of ‘trees’. Is that really true?”

His heart sank as he listened to the kit speak of trees, as though they were as mythical as flying mice. He had probably lived in Windclan’s new territory since he was born; he had never known the wind of the moorlands, or the gorse bushes for which he was named. “Yes, it’s true. In fact, there are so many trees we can hop from branch to branch without ever touching the ground!” 

“Woah.” Gorsekit looked at his siblings with wide eyes that were still changing color. “Can you teach me how?”

Fireheart chuffed at the thought. “I don’t think your mother would like that very much.” He admitted. “But I’m sure your future mentor will teach you lots of other things in your new home. In fact-”

A yowl of alarm cut him off, and he immediately turned to see a brown tabby tom standing with his fur on ends. The ginger Thunderclanner bounded over to see that he was watching another tabby patrolling around the edges of the Monstercamp, who was looking up now to see the source of the call.

“It’s okay, that’s a friend!” The ruddy warrior mewed hurriedly, waving his tail for the Windclan tom to stand down. He did so reluctantly as Fireheart wiggled through and waved his tail in greeting as Diesel spotted him and bounded over.

“You’re back! And with some friends.” Diesel’s ears perked as Tallstar and Graystripe joined him. “I take it you found the cats you were looking for, then?”

“We did! Diesel, this is Tallstar, leader of Windclan - the group we were looking for. Tallstar, this is Diesel. He lives in this…”

“Truck stop!” Diesel interrupted with a proud purr. “I make sure there’s no critters around these parts for the housefolk. Little varmints make them nervous.” He gazed past them at the hedges, which only moderately veiled the entirety of Windclan. “Didja find that molly you were looking for, too?”

“Molly?” Tallstar flicked an ear curiously towards Fireheart. “You didn’t mention anything about a molly.”

“We tracked her to find you.” The ginger tom explained quickly. “We found some tawny and gray fur near your camp, and it still had enough of a scent that we were able to follow it to the Thunderpath.”

The leader’s golden gaze narrowed. “You must mean Thrushwing.” He shook his pelt out and looked away with a heavy sigh. “She wanted to go back and mourn her brother after we buried them. I told her it was too dangerous, that Brokentail could follow her back to us, but she ignored my orders and left in the middle of the night.”

Fireheart blinked slowly in sympathy. It must have been a tough position for the leader, denying the warrior the right to mourn the fallen so that his Clan could be safe. “If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t have been able to find you. She led us to the Thunderpath, and we followed it here.” He flicked his tail to Diesel. “Then Diesel here told us of a group that had recently settled nearby. We hoped it was you, and it turned out it was.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Tallstar admitted. “Perhaps Starclan willed her disobedience, so that our Clan could finally come home.”

The tabby tom in front of them dipped his ears in confusion, but didn’t ask any questions. “Well, I’m glad you all found each other. I know it ain’t always easy, feeling like you’re looking for something that you don’t know exists at all.”

Fireheart nodded respectfully to the loner. “Thank you again, Diesel. We would have never succeeded without your help. And you can tell your friend that group won’t be troubling him again, either!”

“That’s true! I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear it.” Diesel purred with a wide grin. “Well, I’d best be getting back on my rounds. Can’t be letting any mice slip in on my watch!” He gave them a wave of his tail as he continued around the hedges, sniffing cautiously to pick up any prey scents.

“Starclan truly works in mysterious ways.” Tallstar murmured as they returned to his Clan. “I am glad that they showed you the way to our Clan. We will be able to settle in before leafbare comes.” He glanced up to the clear skies above. “Thankfully it is late this season-cycle, as well.”

The ginger tom nodded. “Starclan may not have been able to stop Brokentail, but I’m sure they’re looking after your Clan now.”

“That is true.” The black and white tom gave him an appreciative look. “We should be going. We have a long way to go before nightfall.” He slipped up beside his deputy and healer. “Do you think the Clan is ready to travel?”

Deadfoot nodded. “The Clan will manage. Birchbark and Stagleap will help Crowskip to keep up.” He flicked his tail towards a graying elder, where two brown toms were helping him to his feet. “On your word, Tallstar.”

“Let us go, then.” The black and white tom stretched out eagerly, showing the full length of his body. Fireheart hadn’t noticed before with how skinny the tom was, but he was just as well muscled as the forest cats, just leaner and taller.

The cats filed along the side of the hedges, doing their best to keep under the shady leaves and away from any prying eyes. It wasn’t long before they reached the far side, where there was only the Thunderpath and wide stretches of grass dotted with small white clouds.

“Sheep.” Tallstar purred in amusement as he spotted Fireheart’s wide eyes. “The Twolegs keep them for their luxuriously soft fur. They cut off all their fur in newleaf, when the warmth comes, and then let it grow out for the rest of the season-cycle.”

“How strange!” The ginger warrior mewed as they trotted under a wooden fence into the sheep’s meadow. “I suppose they need the fur, though, since Twolegs only grow a little bit on their heads.”

The Windclan leader nodded. “Indeed. They take the cut fur and make it into pelts that cover their body. The sheep don’t seem to mind; in fact, they’re the most docile creatures I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

Fireheart perked his ears. “Where did you learn all this?”

A shadow passed over the black-and-white tom’s face, and he looked away solemnly. “Nevermind that. Let’s just say we don’t have to worry, aside from if any Twolegs wander this far out.”

He frowned at the leader’s sudden withdrawal, but chose not to press it as they continued forward. They traveled in silence, keeping a watchful eye out in case any sheep got too close, but none approached the far side of the meadow where they were crossing.

“Tallstar!” It was Deadfoot, racing up the line to the two leading the procession. “We must travel more slowly.”

He was right; the end of the line was beginning to lag behind. Several apprentices were clearly exhausted, not used to going this far, while the pale tortoiseshell queen, Morningflower, was panting from the exertion. Even Peppermask looked tired as she carried Gorsekit in her jaws.

The Windclan leader nodded. “Of course, Deadfoot.” Even as he slowed, however, he was nearly prancing in place. Despite his exhaustion from leading the Clan in such a troubled time, and the way his hips showed under his fur, the thought of returning to the moors lent a swiftness to his paws that Fireheart envied.

He restrained himself to a fast walk, however, allowing time for the end of the procession to catch up. But as Fireheart eyed the sun in the sky, he realized that with how long they were taking, they would not make it to the Windclan camp by sunset.

Perhaps that was alright, he reasoned to himself. Maybe they could travel through the night? As he walked, however, he could see rain clouds growing in the distance. There was no way that an elder like Crowskip could travel through a wet, stormy night. 

He didn’t voice these thoughts aloud immediately, however, deciding it was not his place. Tallstar would surely realize the same thing, and if not, Deadfoot would likely tell him. Instead, he kept his eyes to the horizon, where he noticed he could see Highstones. They were growing closer to Barley’s farm, he realized, and his heart leaped at the thought. Maybe they would see Ravenspirit, or at least scent him?

He tasted the air, disappointed to find that while many scents reached him, none were of the black tom. Doubt whispered in his mind; had Ravenspirit made it at all? Perhaps it had been foolish of him to send the scared tom alone in such a terrible storm. What if he had been attacked? What if he had tripped and fallen into the river and drowned?

No, he shook his head. Now was not the time for such thoughts.

“Fireheart?” Tallstar looked at him curiously. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I-” He hesitated, watching the storm clouds moving towards them. “I just thought I felt a drop of rain, is all.”

“Hmm.” The leader looked back to his Clan, who were still struggling even with the slower pace. “If the rain is coming that swiftly, perhaps we should find somewhere to rest now.”

Fireheart glanced around. By now, they had reached the wooden fence on the far side of the meadow. A series of hedges grew here, separating the sheep’s meadow from the grains that grew on the other side. “Perhaps we could shelter under the hedges?” He proposed.

Tallstar nodded in agreement. “They will provide some protection from the rain, at least.” He sniffed the ground as they ducked under the fence. “Not much prey here, though. We will have to send out hunters to see what we can find before the storm becomes too bad.”

The order to rest under the hedges was relayed down the line, and the Clan soon crowded underneath the hedges. There wasn’t space for many cats to sit next to each other; they sat in clumps, doing their best to draw their tails and paws underneath the dark leaves for shelter.

Fireheart waved his tail for Peppermask and Graystripe to follow him, and emerged from the bushes to stand by Tallstar, who was gazing down on the harvested fields of grain.

“You should let Peppermask take the lead.” The ginger tom murmured to the leader. “She’s our Clan’s best tracker and hunter. She’s the one that tracked Thrushwing to the Thunderpath.”

Tallstar dipped his head. “Very well, I- What was that?” His eyes were focused on a black shadow that was moving across the field.

A cat, Fireheart realized, trotting confidently towards them. It wasn’t Barley, however, being short furred and dark as midnight. Still, their demeanor was of a cat that had lived here quite a while and knew they belonged.

“Firepaw? Is that you?” The cat called, their voice warm as they approached. 

The Windclan leader glared at him suspiciously. “Do you know this cat?” He growled, the fur rising on his back.

He didn’t know how to respond. This cat clearly knew him, but he had never seen them before in his life! Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Graystripe leaped forward. “Ravensp-”

“Raven?” Fireheart interrupted, giving a cautious glance to Graystripe. Ravenspirit was supposed to be dead! All of Windclan was watching them; if word got around at the next Gathering that a cat named Ravenspirit was living at the farm, their cover would be blown! “Is that really you?”

“You don’t recognize your friend?” The cat purred as he reached them, touching noses with all three. “It hasn’t been that long, has it?”

He took in the form of Ravenspirit standing before him. Gone was the scared, skinny apprentice with messy, dull fur: now he stood tall in front of them, his form filled in and plump. His coat was smooth and glossy, like a holly leaf. “You look so different.”

“Hopefully for the better!” Ravenspirit purred warmly as he looked to Tallstar beside them. “And is this - It can’t be. Tallstar of Windclan?” His eyes were wide as he gazed at the leader beside them.

The black and white tom eyed the other suspiciously. “Who is this, Fireheart?” He murmured to the warrior beside him, not taking his golden eyes off of the sleek black tom. “How does he know of us?”

“Fireheart? So you’re a warrior now!” Ravenspirit purred in delight, unbothered by Tallstar’s aggression. Fireheart could picture how the apprentice had cowered beneath Frostfur’s rage; now, the anger seemed to slide off his pelt like water. “The three warriors beside you saved my life. They taught me much about the warrior code and the Clans. If you are as honorable a warrior as they say you are, then I’m happy to welcome you as a friend.”

Tallstar blinked and finally glanced to the other three for confirmation. The ginger Thunderclanner nodded in agreement with Ravenspirit’s story. “Raven is a friend, I promise. He was also attacked by Brokentail and his rogues, once. Now he lives here with Barley and catches mice.”

The Windclan leader finally relaxed at the acknowledgement. “A friend of yours is a friend of ours, then.” He dipped his head slightly in respect, though he could tell the tom was still apprehensive about this new loner. “I met Barley a few times before. He seemed nice enough, for a loner.”

“Barley took me in when I had nowhere else to go. I’ll be forever grateful to him for that; and these three, as well, for saving me.” Ravenspirit nodded to Fireheart. “If you’re here with Windclan, I can only assume that means you succeeded in your mission. Is Brokentail…?”

“Banished.” Peppermask mewed from beside the ginger tom. “We drove him and his rogues out, and saved Goldenflower’s kits as well. Graystripe and Fireheart earned their warrior names because of it. And now Nightstar leads Shadowclan, alongside his deputy Wolfstep.”

The black tom brightened at the news. “That’s wonderful to hear! I was so nervous when I didn’t hear anything… but of course you all must have been busy with your new warrior duties.” He sighed and looked away. “I only wished I could have helped you.”

“It’s better that you didn’t.” Fireheart murmured, stepping forward and nudging his friend at the shoulder. “You were injured so badly… I was worried you might not have made it here.”

“I did! And Barley’s been spending the past moon showing me all the best places to catch mice.” Ravenspirit’s eyes brightened, then softened as he looked past them to where Windclan was watching. “There’s a storm coming soon. You should all get some shelter.”

“We were going to stay here.” Graystripe mewed, flicking his tail to the hedges. “It’s up an incline, so at least the rain won’t pool around us…”

“Nonsense!” The loner purred, brushing his tail against his old friend’s nose to quiet him. “There’s an old barn that the Twolegs never visit anymore. Great for mice catching, as well. You can all stay there and eat your fill, help us get them under control for a bit!” 

Tallstar flattened his ears at that. “A Twoleg nest?” He asked disdainfully. “I don’t know…”

“It’s got no doors anymore, and plenty of holes in the sides to crawl through to escape if the Twolegs get it in their heads to visit it in the middle of the storm.” Ravenspirit reassured him quickly. “But the roof is sturdy, and it’ll keep the rain off of you. And I can guarantee that the Twolegs will stay in their nest all night; they don’t seem to like the rain any more than we do!”

The Windclan leader hesitated, looking to the Thunderclanners beside him. Fireheart nodded in agreement. “Raven’s right: Twolegs hate the rain. And if he says it’s safe and Twolegs don’t visit, I believe him.”

Peppermask also nodded beside him. “Raven’s a good cat, Tallstar. He has a warrior’s heart, even if he lives as a loner.” She flicked her tail to the approaching storm. “Besides, I think the Clan will fare better tomorrow if they have a full belly and a good night of rest.”

Still, the tom seemed unsure, glancing back at his deputy for his opinion. Deadfoot looked down the row of hedges, then slowly nodded assent. “Very well.” Tallstar finally acquiesced, dipping his head and getting to his paws. “Show us the way to this Twoleg nest.”

“Right away.” Ravenspirit purred, flicking his white-tipped tail for everyone to follow. “I’ll see if I can’t find Barley, too. Get some more paws to help hunt!” With that, he began to trot across the field, Windclan slowly getting to their paws and reluctantly following after him. Ignoring their apprehension, Fireheart glanced at his two Clanmates with barely-contained delight. Ravenspirit was alive!

[sam-glade]

Find the Words Tag

Tagged by @outpost51 here and @card-queen here. Thank you💜

I'll gently tag: @tabswrites @zestymimblo @worldsfromhoney @squarebracket-trick @chauceryfairytales - your words are: honey, fruit, tea, bread.

I don't have enough of The Prince's Shadow written to find half of the words, so back to Gifts of Fate it is for the time being:

From @outpost51: pitch, aid, brother, relief, ceiling

PITCH (Erya and Varré talking)

“I still need to know what exactly you were thinking, pitching Gullin against whatever that kid is.” “I had a hunch.” “A hunch!?” “Yes, a hunch, Erya, that’s how I operate. And it was a damn good hunch at that; that single bout gave us a whole load of information on the demon. Of course I’m assuming it isn’t the only one in existence. We need to know more to prepare.”

AID

They spent the day going through the manor, cleaning the servants’ quarters, and taking stock of their supplies — the officers had brought full packs of long-lasting provisions, as well as spare woollen blankets and small equipment; tinderboxes, first aid kits, and such. They still needed cooking utensils, warm clothes, and more blankets to survive the winter, which they decided to buy the next day in the nearest town that didn’t have an Army outpost.

BROTHER (Marta talking)

“What have you been doing with my brother over the last four months!? You take him away, you force him to live in this hole.” She raised her voice. Lissan stirred, but she didn’t let anyone get a word in edgewise. Gullin watched her warily. She didn’t pose a direct risk to the Swords, but Lissan— “And that… that thing was put in his head by you, by the Army. No, I don’t care that whoever did it went rogue, that they weren’t officially told to do it. It’s wrong! It’s your mess to tidy up, so get on with it!”

RELIEF

“I’d rather you weren’t involved,” he said quietly. Ianim gaped. “I promised your sister that I’d keep you as safe as I can.” Ianim squeezed his eyes shut, so that the betrayal he felt wouldn’t show in them. He controlled his breathing and prepared an argument — a logical argument that he’d also present to his prince, if he weren’t such a coward — that his abilities were only going to waste when— “But, I can’t stop you from coming with us,” Lissan said, before Ianim opened his mouth. “So just… remember that, please?” Ianim smiled as relief welled in him.

CEILING

He’d thought about it constantly for the six hours he’d been locked up — he’d estimated the passage of time by the sky’s colour changing; a little rectangle of it was visible through a barred window right below the arched ceiling. He’d gone over every word he’d said and heard that day — from the Usurper, and from the Generals. The Nameless’s incessant commentary had made him lose the thread of thoughts many times, but the demon had pointed out one thing: the Usurper didn’t use his Sword on Lissan even once, and Lissan had good reasons to believe it.

~*~

From @card-queen: shuffle, entrance and satisfying

SHUFFLE

“I always knew you can be reasonable,” the Usurper said with approval. “Do take a seat.” Lissan kept looking at the Sword. The Stork flexed its fingers, and more ice crept up the spikes, encasing the Weapon further, although not bending it. Yet. Lissan shuffled to the nearest settee that offered him a clear view of both the Sword and the Usurper. He perched on the edge of the seat, and grimaced when he sank into the plush cushion. “Make yourself comfortable, please. Would you like some refreshments?”

ENTRANCE

The cottage atop the hill was tiny, huddled under a blanket of thatch, peeking from behind an almost bare dogwood tree to the side of the entrance — Dad had planted it there forty-five ago, when he bought this little rocky plot of land. Partially hidden behind the house, stood the woodshed, the chicken coop, and Dad’s wood workshop. Marta was waiting for them in the doorway.

SATISFYING (CW: creepy intrusive thoughts)

Ianim demonstrated the movements with infinite patience, and corrected Lissan’s position and the way he held the dull practice sword, arranging Lissan’s limbs with gentle nudges and inevitably making his cheeks flush. You’d want his hands on other parts of you, wouldn’t you, the demon hissed, and Lissan winced away from Ianim. Ianim looked at him in a silent question, but didn’t press. From then on, he avoided physical contact without a word or even an odd look, and Lissan had to accept that it was for the best. It let him focus on the training. It wasn’t an enthralling activity, to repeat the same movement over and over, dozens upon dozens of times, but there was something satisfying about getting it to feel right.

[bonefall]

how do surrogacies for cats in another Clan work, socially? With honor siring you don't have to stick around once the cat you're siring for is pregnant; but with surrogacies you're going through an entire pregnancy and kitting process, which your Clan will probably catch onto at some point. Do you just... go off to give birth and come back and tell your Clan "bad news they didn't make it :( they all got uhhh eaten by a hawk sry all" after dropping them off with the cats you surrogated for

The out of universe reason is simple logistics. Some parents can't give birth but they still need a visit from the stork, with how small Clan sizes are.

In-universe, it's a whole process.

MOST surrogacies are done by family, or are in-Clan. A sibling who is able to get pregnant will do so, with the expectation that their family member will take and raise the kits.

More are done on a sort of "open book" policy. Onestar and Whitetail are an example of this; One wanted kits and asked White, but didn't want to coparent. She agreed, and neither one kept it a secret.

So Whitetail is not Heathertail's MOTHER, but it is known she was the honor-sire.

Likewise though, it's within your rights to keep it secret, even within a Clan. If you asked Onestar where the kit came from, invoking Queen’s Rights would shut it down.

But you could put two and two together that Whitetail was probably pregnant and stopped being so right when Onestar became a Mi.

For the record though. Listen carefully.

not every cat who is expecting will suddenly flash like a neon sign indicating it. The whole Clan will not suddenly get a text saying "DUDEHEART IS PREGNANT." Some people just don't show. Some cats don't smell that different. It's rude to ask unprompted and even worse if you guess wrong. Like real life.

Please understand.

On the Anthro-Scale, from 100% feral cat to 100% fuzzy human, BB cat gestation is closer to the feral cat than most of their other behaviors. So this is not the same "big deal" as a human pregnancy.

In general, I write "medical" topics closer to real cats than the Erins do. I mostly take "liberties" in the portrayal of disabilities so THOSE are closer to the real humans in my audience

intelligent cats are not going to be correcting me on my incorrect portrayal of Feline Diabetes, but I could unwittingly cause harm in spreading diabetic misconceptions that real people try to clear up, y'know?

Anyway. What that means is that warriors giving birth is not the federal issue that it is for humans. It's still not TOTALLY safe, but dying in childbirth is exceptionally rare, plus being much less painful and considerably faster

"The Birthing Stick" means something is wrong.

So there's several factors at play within Clans, but Out-of-Clan surrogacies are much more interesting.

These are usually arranged at Aftergatherings. They were rarer before the move to the Lake, which now sees waaaay more cross-clan friendships.

USUALLY the Clan's Cleric will be involved, which IS technically a waiving of the Queen’s Rights. Leafpool simply doesn't interpret it that way.

A more "traditional" Cleric, like Littlecloud, will NOT be involved for personal safety and comfort reasons. This makes a bad situation but that's the reality of QR (and is a reason why Fire Alone cats think QR doesn't go far enough.)

Kits are always given to the parent before 1 moon. Fading Kits aren't socially questioned if they fade before that 1st moon. So it's pretty easy to hide it.

"All of my litter was faders" is unfortunate in the way that a car accident is unfortunate. "Shit, are you ok?" "Is StarClan trying to keep a close eye on you? Are you going to try again?" Etc.

"Frequent Flyer" surrogates, like Brightheart, often keep a single kitten from each litter to avoid the implication of "bad omens."

If they aren't Brightheart who likes raising kittens with her mate, the kitten is often given to an in-Clan parent who wanted a child.

Most surrogacies aren't "free," but it does depend on who's doing it for you.

Like all other things in BB, this looks very different between generations, and depends heavily on the "attitudes" of the Clans at the tine. But, Queen’s Rights will protect you from revealing too much. STILL, surrogacies ARE harder than sirings. Just not impossible.

[joshithekitsune]

What is Joshi’s backstory?

That's gonna be a tricky one. Where should I begin? Her backstory consists of Yoshi's Island, Super Paper Mario, and a sprinkle of Super Mario World show lore, hint hint.

Joshi was asexually created by Grambi himself, she WAS originally going to be human. He accidentally splashed a whole vial of kitsune DNA into the zygote, some fool gave him the wrong vial. Something was off about that child, he created a potential monster, there was NO turning back. He improvised a plan and advised the stork to take the child to her other biological parent instead, (notably her kitsune mother or father). The stork flew off during the middle of the night, hours have passed, a tall looming figure was stealthily hidden from the bird's vision, the evil dinosaur (purple Tyrannosaurus Rex) snatched the bird out of the blue and mauled it to death, leading the newborn kit to fall into the forest floor. The bird has failed its mission, miserably...

An hour has passed, a yoshi couple heard wailing out of the brush. They slowly approached the rustling of leaves and revealed a newborn baby out of the white cloth. They gazed at it, she was beautiful, she was partially fuzzy, she had a tail soft as silk, her large lustrous golden eyes dilated as the couple cooed at the child. They didn't care if their child was different, she was perfect. She lived a decently good life as a village girl, always causing mischief, doing basic things like gardening and cooking with her parents, she had it all. Years have went by, she was in her teens, but she didn't grow much. Her father has passed away, shortly her mother died of a fungal disease commonly found in reptiles, back in the 1000s they barely had any medicine AT ALL, there couldn've been NO way to save her.

After the passing her mother, war broke out between the yoshies and the magikoopas, there was nothing but pandemonium. The unfortunate teenager was appalled from the horrid scene; her village was completely burnt into a wasteland, nothing but debris. She was alone... she left Yoshi's Island, for salvation. Overtime she began to discover who she was bit by bit. Days have turned into weeks, weeks have turned into months, months have turned into years, and years turned into centuries... it left her baffled about her supernatural abilities and immortal lifespan. People she loved along the way have deceased before her very eyes.

She became the monster she swore to avenge...

Welp, here ya go! I hope my writing is okay. :D

[rhythymicwriting]

Salpêtrière - Thirteen

Art supplies threatened to fall out of their grasp, their sketchy jenga tower of items bundled in their arms teetered as they walked. Solomon might still be in the studio if they got there soon, but as long as he didn’t lock it, they didn’t really care. 

Rope creaked above their head as MC rounded the corner, freezing at the curtain of purple hair obscuring the rest of the hall. A nervous chuckle sounded from the woman, her face flushed. She swung steadily, hugging a knee to her chest as she reached for her other ankle. Thirteen was suspended by her ankle in the middle of the hallway. “A little help?” She laughed, dropping back toward the ground. The rope bounced at the sudden jerk, her swing increasing ever so slightly. 

MC sighed. This woman really was hopeless. They’d lost count of how often they’d helped her out of one of her traps. They worked better on the reaper than any of her targets. MC flicked their pocket knife open, dumping their supplies to the side and finding where the rope was tied to a cauldron filled with rocks. Instead of untying it or letting her down slowly, MC opted to saw through the rope, letting the reaper careen to the floor. She plummeted face first to the rug. 

“Ow, shit.” Thirteen groaned. She seemed alright at first, pushing herself onto her knees before collapsing back to the ground. She fell hard onto her shoulder. “Shit!” 

The human’s smile dropped. They flipped the knife shut, running over to the reaper. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine just…” She winced, massaging her hand. “I fell on my wrist.” She laughed softly. She took the hand they offered her, climbing to her feet. MC walked her to the cafeteria, buying a cold drink to ice her wrist. It seemed not even RAD could keep a nurse on campus more than twice a week. They ducked into an empty classroom, Thirteen hopping on a desk as she clutched the bottle to her joint. She talked about anything and everything that came to mind as MC rooted through the teacher’s desk for a first aid kit. They looked at her strangely when they returned with athletic tape. MC chuckled and shook their head, taking both Thirteen’s hand and the bottle, setting the soda to the side and applying the supportive tape to her wrist. 

“What was that trap anyway?” MC asked, not looking up from her mummified joint. 

The reaper’s feet kicked between them, the movements just barely avoiding hitting MC’s knees. Her eyes danced around the room. “Solomon likes to paint there so I thought I could get him on his way out, but he came out when I was looking the other way and pushed me into the loop.” She laughed, a breathy one that your throat stops too early and kinda chokes itself out.  

MC had never seen Thirteen this fidgety before and they had calculus with her. Something was clearly wrong. They set her hand gently on her lap, tilting their head to look her in the eye. She side eyed them briefly, before becoming too interested in what was probably the most boring poster in the room. “Hey,” The reaper tensed at their gentle tone. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She giggled again. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Thirteen.” MC’s voice was stern, the reaper still avoiding their eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.” They sighed, falling quiet. MC climbed on the desk beside Thirteen, sitting in silence with her for what felt like ages. 

“MC,” Thirteen began, her voice solemnly quiet. “Do you know where reapers come from?”

“Storks?” The human joked. 

She laughed, shaking her head. “In a way, yeah.” Thirteen’s face tightened again. “We, uh… Reapers were human…once.” MC straightened, giving the woman their full attention. Thirteen picked at the edges of the tape, ignoring the ache in her arm. “Reapers are… humans that killed themselves…”

“What?” MC’s voice was barely a whisper, their eyes wide.

“Technically.”

“Diavolo told you they’re ‘between realms’ right? That’s because we don’t classify anymore… We interfered with our lifelines, so we can’t go to ‘heaven’ or ‘hell.’” She talked with her hands, rambling quickly through the incredibly complicated technicalities that would naturally lead to the creation of a new species of supernatural being. MC didn’t seem to be taking any of it in, but Thirteen couldn’t seem to stop herself. “We’re punished for that interference by having to monitor the lives of others and harvest their souls when they die. It kind of sucks, really, having your sentence be to watch others living out happy lives after you chose to end yours early, but I guess it’s fitting and I really don’t mind, I mean, it’s kind of fun and I like to see people that are happy.”

“Thirteen, you…” MC interrupted. The reaper fell eerily quiet. “You’re dead?”

“You,” MC’s eyes looked like shimmering pearls, tears threatening to breach their surfaces. “You killed yourself?”

The reaper didn’t answer for a moment, her own eyebrows drawing tightly together, the corners of her mouth pulling upward in a strained smile. “I don’t like to think of it that way.”

MC’s voice was tight and low. “You don’t like to think of it that way… What does that mean, Thirteen?”

“When you say it like that, it sounds really bad.”

“How am I supposed to say it?”

She hesitated. “...I’m not sure.”

“Why?” MC’s voice cracked. “Why would you do that?”

Thirteen breathed deeply. “I… I couldn’t take it anymore. I hated the world. I hated every moment. Every ‘hello’ felt like sandpaper in my throat. Every face was like candles on my retinas. Every pill felt like a new bar on a cage, forcing me to be something I’m not. Every smile, forced to keep the crazy girl from lashing out. Every feeling I had looked like an atom bomb to the people around me. My family sent me away. They said I was crazy. Maybe I was. They sent me to an asylum. They gave me pills, shocked me, left me in cells by myself for weeks at a time. It was hell. I don’t think they wanted to help me. I think they just got a kick out of it.”

“I never got a single letter when I was there.” Tears started to run down her face, paving wet trails against her burning cheeks. “I didn’t know patients even got letters for the first two years I was there. My roommate told me the day before she left. She’d been getting them the whole three months she was there. For two years no one even told me.” 

She was gesturing wider, her voice coarse and loud now. “I was tired of being an exhibit, a freak show, something to look at to feel better about the world they lived in. I was tired of people’s faces changing when they looked at me. Their smiles were never real. I wasn’t human to them. Not anymore.” Thirteen wiped at her face, the skin stretching and pulling under her hands. She dug her palms into her cheeks, as if trying to scrape off the water. “I started cutting when my roommate left. There wasn’t anyone left to stop me. The nurses never looked if no one told them to. I chewed my fingernails until they could grab skin and it helped me cope for a while. Not long enough, I suppose. They really should’ve had overnight staff in asylums. Maybe it would have been a little harder to get to the roof.” She smiled grimly. 

“It was only dark for a moment. I remember I was angry at first. I didn’t believe in an afterlife, and I'm sure you understand that when someone chooses to die, they aren’t excited about living again. But a voice called out to me. It told me that what I had done was against the laws of life and the natural order and I would pay for it with my afterlife. It told me I was reborn, a reaper, and I would spend eternity watching others enjoy what I gave up and they would beg me to keep it when I came to collect their souls. And I would have to take them anyway. That’s the part of the job I hate, you know. I love watching people live, people with shiny, beautiful, happy souls. Seeing people that live happy, fulfilling lives is a perk. I never got that. I like that others can. I don’t want anyone to suffer how I did. But when they beg me. I hate that. I don’t want their lives to end either. Really. But I have to do it. If I don’t, they become like me. They become an anomaly, an outlier, a reaper.”

MC stared at her, stunned. “That’s… wow.”

“Sorry, it’s a lot.” She laughed. 

“Yeah,” MC’s voice was still quiet. They continued staring at her, cheeks damp and mouth agape. Her face was still red, eyes burning, dry, and sore. She took another breath. 

“That’s… uh. That’s why I don’t trust people. I can’t keep friends and I’m…” She trailed off. 

“Scared.” 

“Yeah.”

MC set their hand on the desk, palm up, inviting Thirteen to take it. Hesitantly, she did. They didn’t say anything, letting the quiet fall back over them. Still uneasy but no longer tense, the silence was welcome. 

“When you were human,” MC began, turning their attention to the woman. “Were your eyes always that green?”

Thirteen laughed. “No, I think they were blue. I don’t remember that well.”

“Blue?”

“Maybe.” She smiled.

“Do all reapers have pretty green eyes?”

“Most. Some are kinda ugly though.” MC laughed this time. 

“What about your hair? Do you dye it?”

“Yeah and it’s a bitch to keep up on.”

“What color is it naturally?”

“Grey.”

“Grey?!”

“Yeah, like old lady grey.”

“Gross.”

“Tell me about it.”

The two laughed loudly. The conversation bounced between them like a tennis match for another hour, though it only felt like minutes. The two talked with their hands, talking animatedly atop the desks. However, on the desk between them, MC’s hand lay perfectly fixed, palm up, and Thirteen’s hand rested atop it, long, polished fingernails shimmering under the lights as her fingers curled around MC’s, steady and still.