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rippleclan · 20 days ago

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RippleClan: Moon 89, Part 2

The first thing Whitepaw asks to do after being apprenticed to Billowhaze is to collect moss, shocking his mentor.

[Image ID: Whitepaw is now an apprentice. Under him, it reads LEVEL UP! WHITEKIT → WHITEPAW, SKITTISH → NERVOUS.]

(Whitepaw: 6, male, historian apprentice, nervous, active imagination)

Lightningrunner is murdered.

[Image ID: Whitepaw and Shrewflame hurry to Leathermask, Vervaincough, and Puddlewhisper.]

---

While Whitepaw couldn't claim to be as self-assured and skilled as his older brother, or as respected and proud as his adopted mothers, he certainly tried to live up to them. He would groom his long, wild fur and make sure his elders knew he was listening, ears locked and unmoving on them. He would keep an eye on Gingerkit and Frostkit, even though the caretakers insisted it was their job to mind them and Whitepaw could enjoy his last days of kithood. He would make sure he wasn't under anyone's paws or bothering anyone as they worked. There was a lot to do, a lot to protect, and all Whitepaw seemed good at was coming up with new games to pass the time until his ceremony.

Things should have been better with his apprenticeship. He should have found a way to support the Clan that immediately offered their love and support. He should have focused on his new studies, tackling Billowhaze's lessons on science and history with the same fire Shrewflame had in his apprenticeship. He should have been a good apprentice.

None of this should have happened.

Whitepaw seemed to carry the entire beach on his half-wet pelt as he ran after Shrewflame. He looked more cream than white. Even through Shrewflame's legs were equally soaked, the sand didn't slow him down. He bounded toward the shipwreck with an unmatched speed. Whitepaw, meanwhile, struggled to feel his legs. The waves smacked into the shore with a consistent, drum-like beat that pounded deeper and deeper into Whitepaw's head. The water ate the dusting of snow that shrouded the rest of RippleClan territory. The writhing tides ate the sunlight while the snow beyond the shore reflected it onto Whitepaw's back.

"Shrewflame, wait," Whitepaw begged, stumbling over his own paws. "I, I can't keep up!" Shrewflame danced to a stop and turned back to his younger brother. Whitepaw panted, falling back on his flank. He tried to groom the matted sand off his legs, but the dark tan flecks seemed to tangle in his long fur. The salty water stung his mouth and the sand irritated his skin. His tongue raked harder and harder through his pelt, but he couldn't get clean. The weight of it all pulled him deeper into the sand.

"Whitepaw," Shrewflame said softly as Whitepaw whined. It wouldn't come off! "Whitepaw, listen, everything will be alright. I promise you."

"How?" Whitepaw gulped, coughing on sand. "You can't promise anything. You don't know what'll happen next."

"I'm going to keep you safe," Shrewflame huffed. He rested a paw on Whitepaw's head, knocking his tongue away from his obsessive grooming. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Whitepaw. Trust me." Whitepaw nodded without thinking. Shrewflame touched his nose to Whitepaw's head. Whitepaw forced himself to breathe. It was only when Whitepaw could stand still before his brothee that Shrewflame stepped back and continued on the path to RippleClan's camp.

"Don't panic the Clan," Shrewflame warned as he and Whitepaw approached the camp entrance, guarded by Currentsmoke. "Let me handle this." Whitepaw nodded once more. He shivered as he passed through the thorny walls of the entrance. Currentsmoke eyed his soaked, sandy pelt. Shrewflame let his brother enter first, glancing north the way they came.

Whitepaw waited by the camp entrance for Shrewflame, below the stove where Rabbitjoy and Ravenweaver debated what to serve for the sunhigh meal. He could feel eyes on him; Asterblaze and Drumtooth glanced at him while they crafted more tooth-sticks, and Rapidleaf nudged Carnationspeckle from her work fortifying the camp walls as Shrewflame joined Whitepaw. Over by the Shiprock, Puddlewhisper sat with Leathermask and Vervaincough. They seemed focused on their conversation. Shrewflame jogged toward them, Whitepaw hot on his heels. Puddlewhisper's ear perked at the pair's approach.

"Shrewflame?" Puddlewhisper said, cocking her other ear. "What's with that face? I thought you were sparring with Lightningrunner at Battle Beach."

"What happened to you?" Vervaincough asked, peering at Whitepaw's sandy legs.

"Estherfern is with Lightningrunner," Shrewflame whispered, sticking his head in the middle of the three cats. "We need codekeepers. Right now." Leathermask's eyes slowly widened. Puddlewhisper's claws poked into the sand. Vervaincough's breath caught.

"What happened?" Leathermask gulped.

"Just come on," Shrewflame muttered, flicking his tail back to the exit. "Do you want to start a riot or start investigating?"

"Take me to my sister," Puddlewhisper snapped, jumping to her paws. Shrewflame started back to the exit with Puddlewhisper beside him. Leathermask and Vervaincough hurried to follow while Whitepaw scrambled to catch up with his brother.

"Whitepaw, stay here," Shrewflame sighed as Asterblaze and Drumtooth left their task and stalked toward the tense group. "You don't need to go back there. Someone should stay here to explain."

"I want to stay with you," Whitepaw whined softly.

"Just tell them what they need to know," Shrewflame said, straightening up under the growing attention of the Clan. "You'll be alright." Shrewflame didn't wait to finish talking; he continued onto the exit. Nervous energy propelled Puddlewhisper, Vervaincough, and Leathermask after him. Whitepaw's still wet fur dripped onto the sand, forming tiny balls underfoot.

"Whitepaw, you look terrified," Carnationspeckle whined, jogging up to her grandson with Rapidleaf at her side. "You're a mess! What's got you and Shrewflame hurrying into camp like this?"

"I��" Whitepaw gulped. "She…" Tell them what they need to know. I'm going to keep you safe. It's not your fault.

"Maybe start from the beginning," Asterblaze suggested, abandoning his crafts to join the small but growing group. Drumtooth squinted at Whitepaw and the sand glued to his fur. Yes, start from the beginning. Work through the story. Tell them what they need to know.

"Since Mr. Billowhaze is still fighting his allergies," Whitepaw finally gulped, "Shrewflame took me out to spar in the water. Ms. Estherfern joined us to check if we got too cold, and Ms. Lightningrunner asked to come along. Me and Shrewflame were sparring and swimming, and Ms. Lightningrunner was on the shore with Ms. Estherfern. She… Ms. Lightningrunner said she heard something in the trees, and she went to check. When she didn't come back, we got worried, and we followed her, and, and…"

"She's dead," Drumtooth said, voice low and tight. Carnationspeckle's breath tightened. Rapidleaf couldn't stop herself from gasping. Asterblaze tensed. "Lightningrunner's dead, isn't she? You would have brought her back if she was just hurt." Whitepaw begged StarClan to let him sink into the sand. Instead, he closed his eyes and nodded.

The few cats still in the Clan would soon rush about and search for Lightningrunner's siblings, scattered on patrols throughout the territory. They would find Downstar and Oilstripe, grimly informing them that yet another Clanmate had been found dead; this one, they'd soon learn, with a huge and bloody bite on the back of her neck like a sloppy hunt.

For now though, Whitepaw stood in the shock of it all, sand heavy on his legs, images of Lightningrunner frozen against his eyes.

(Whitepaw: 6, male, historian apprentice, nervous, active imagination)

(Shrewflame: 13, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)

(Puddlewhisper: 55, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)

(Vervaincough: 24, female, codekeeper, insecure, understands nature, good mediator)

(Leathermask: 37, male, warrior, nervous, good fighter, eloquent speaker)

(Carnationspeckle: 91, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Asterblaze: 36, male, caretaker, thoughtful, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Drumtooth: 37, trans male, caretaker, loyal, great hunter, clever)

(Rapidleaf: 107, female, warrior, lonesome, prophecy interpreter)

Scaleripple, Anchovystrike, Yellowburst, and Boughfur hear desperate screams coming from the seashore.

[Image ID: Anchovystrike, Yellowburst, Boughfur, and Scaleripple lead an old gray and white tom with yellow eyes along. Under Anchovystrike, it reads LEVEL UP! DEEP STARCLAN BOND → UNSHAKABLE STARCLAN LINK. Under the stranger, it reads NEW PLAYER: WASHINGTON, 217, MALE, NERVOUS, GOOD MEDIATOR, + CONDITION: BROKEN BONE. Under Boughfur, it reads LEVEL UP! GOOD CLIMBER → GREAT CLIMBER.]

---

"I heard Lemmy say the killer bit into her neck twice to make sure she was dead," Brightreed whispered to Wolverineheart in the warrior's den. "It's no wonder Whitepaw's been moping in the apprentice's den. Part of me just wants to hide in camp too!"

"You make it sound like he's just being sour," Wolverineheart huffed. "He's barely started his training. He could have been killed instead of Lightningrunner, you know! He's young, he's allowed to be scared."

"I'm not trying to insult him. I'm saying I'm scared too. Thinking about Lightningrunner makes my scar itch."

"It has to be a RippleClan cat, right? I haven't heard of any foreign scent by Battle Beach."

"I guess. But who would want to kill Lightningrunner?"

"Lightningrunner and Potterypool. You can't expect it to be a coincidence that they both died like that."

"I still don't know who would kill either of them. I don't think we should guess, either. That would be the worst gossip you could share. What are we supposed to do if we can't trust each other?"

"…maybe the killer has a thing for gingers. Oilstripe should watch her back."

"Wolverineheart! Scaleripple is sleeping right over there!"

Scaleripple was not, in fact, sleeping.

Yes, he laid in his nest, carefully barren of any irritating leathers, his graduation gift from Tempestshade carefully tucked by his paws, but Scaleripple was not asleep. His blue eyes were open, but turned away from Wolverineheart and Brightreed's nests. Scaleripple's claws poked at his rattle. He was Lightningrunner's big brother. It was supposed to be his responsibility to protect his little sisters, even though their chatty, gossipy behavior was stranger than what laid in the depths of the ocean. Yet Lightningrunner found her end just beyond RippleClan camp while Scaleripple was tied up in the medicine den with a pounding headache. What was he supposed to do with that? Even though dawn consumed the territory and urged the Clan out of the giant warrior's den and onto their duties, Scaleripple lingered, pretending to catch a little more sleep. What else could he do?

"Scaleripple?" Scaleripple sat up, spooking Wolverineheart and Brightreed. Yellowburst stood outside the warrior's den, tail swaying as she waited. "Are we still going on patrol?" Oh. Right. Downstar wanted Scaleripple to lead a patrol south to clean up the shoreline. The investigation into Lightningrunner's death the day before had to abandon their search for the killer early due to a violent late autumn storm that left the beaches covered in debris. Scaleripple was supposed to lead Anchovystrike, Boughfur, and Yellowburst at dawn. How long had they been waiting for him?

"I'll join you outside camp," Scaleripple promised. Wolverineheart and Brightreed shifted uncomfortably, their dark gossip staining their hearts with guilt. Good. Scaleripple groomed his strange white spots as Yellowburst left his sight. He plucked his jay feathers from his nest and wove them into his tail, focusing on the gentle ritual. Feathers were a good sensation, the opposite of fur and leather. They were a comfort in such dark times. Lightningrunner loved them, and so Scaleripple loved them even more.

Scaleripple left Wolverineheart and Brightreed to wallow in their embarrassment. Yellowburst, Boughfur, and Anchovystrike waited for him by the camp entrance. The sand gently coated the bottom of Scaleripple's paws, still wet from last night's freezing rain. Scaleripple simply flicked his tail for his Clanmates to follow him out into the late dawn.

The coast south of RippleClan camp was riddled with debris. A rotting wolffish stunk up the rocks that formed the southern beaches. Broken wood like the planks that formed the shipwreck floated in the waves and caught against the rocks that stuck out of the foam, watery reflections of the rocks that lined camp. Sticks, grass, and seaweed polluted the usual gray, pristine image of the beach. At least the sky offered a glimpse of peace. The stormclouds broke apart into gray sheets against a yellow sky.

"I think a ship sunk," Boughfur noted as the patrol approached the beach. "I've never seen so much wood on the shoreline before. We should bring it back to camp! There are a lot of planks on the shipwreck that could be replaced. Who knows, maybe we can open up space for another den in there!"

"Yellowburst," Anchovystrike chuckled. He hopped across the rocks to the beached wolffish. He hooked his paw under the wolffish's jaw. "Wouldn't it be funny to take this back to camp and claim it was Wolfgaze's reflection?" Yellowburst snickered with Anchovystrike.

"This isn't the day for jokes," Scaleripple huffed. His tone had more bite than he expected. Anchovystrike dropped the fish. Yellowburst crept away to the debris. Distant seabirds filled the silence that followed.

"Scaleripple, we'll tear our fur out if we don't unwind," Anchovystrike pointed out. "There's nothing any of us can do about… you know. Let's just clean up the beach and try to keep the mood light." Scaleripple hummed under his breath. Boughfur and Yellowburst shared an awkward glance.

"Why don't Yellowburst and I collect the usable wood and make a pile?" Boughfur suggested when Scaleripple refused to give an actual response. "We can have Mitespark and Venturedapple carry them home later."

"Go ahead," Scaleripple said, hopping down to the beach. He grabbed a chunk of grass and dragged it to the treeline where the mice and squirrels could use it for nesting material. Anchovystrike dug a hole to bury the dead wolffish. Boughfur and Yellowburst quietly debated the best way to carry the heavier planks out of the rocks and onto solid ground. Scaleripple tuned them out, ears pricked to the eager waves at his side.

As Scaleripple worked, his thoughts drifted back to his family. What was he supposed to do for them? He wanted to protect them, but was that feeling any stronger than his desire to protect everyone in RippleClan? What would Tempestshade have thought of the last moon? Did Oilstripe or Troutpool ever see their spirit wandering camp, checking in on their littermates or sitting beside Scaleripple? Scaleripple couldn't help but sneer at the thought of how RippleClan would treat Tempestshade if they were still alive. Would the Clan blame them for Potterypool or Lightningrunner's deaths?

Scaleripple paused with a large chunk of seaweed in his mouth. His pelt prickled as old memories of Tempestshade's mistreatment itched at his chest. He knew the cats in his Clan were good cats, or at least tried to be. Yet it seemed that even the wiser among them still gave into superstition and overcaution. They avoided being alone with Tempestshade. They didn't know how to spend time with Scaleripple without sharing tongues. Scaleripple even saw how cats like Carnationspeckle and Elmsprout flinched when Yarrowclaw raised her voice, as though any sign of overeagerness was a step away from the brown and white molly dissolving into madness. Wasn't there something Scaleripple could do for cats like that? The only answer he received was the gentle churning of the ocean and far-off, feral screaming.

Wait. Screaming?

Scaleripple stared out into the sea. Larger planks and chunks of a now sunken ship bobbed along the water. Some pieces had bright swaths of paint splashed over the wood, turning the planks green and yellow. One large bicolored wreck tumbled with the waves. A soaked gray and white cat clung to the wood, claws embedded in their one saving grace. Bleary yellow eyes stared at Scaleripple and the RippleClan patrol. The drowned cat screeched with all the strength they had left as a wave splashed over their makeshift raft.

Scaleripple didn't realize he was running until he plunged into the icy ocean, salt stinging his eyes. His feathers floated to the yellowish-gray surface. He breached the water with a large gasp. The drowning cat was a few bear-lengths away. Scaleripple paddled, letting the ebb carry him closer to the stranger and pushing against the flow.

"Careful, Scaleripple!" Boughfur yowled from the shore just as Scaleripple reached the ocean's victim. He could barely smell the stranger's tom-scent through the salt. The stranger's soaked tail smacked Scaleripple's face. Scaleripple shivered so violently, he almost slipped under the raft. Yet that gave him an idea. He paddled around the drowning tom and shoved his head against the broken, ragged edge. The raft rolled toward the shore, even as the water pushed it every other way. Scaleripple's head hurt with the raft's pressure, but it was better than someone else's wet fur against his skin.

Anchovystrike scrambled into the water. As the ocean floor climbed to meet the surface, the pressure of the waves eased. Yellowburst splashed beside Anchovystrike. She grabbed the edge of the raft and stabilized it. Anchovystrike grabbed the terrified tom by the scruff and lifted him onto the rocks. Scaleripple shoved the raft aside and crawled to dry land.

Now that the salt wasn't blinding Scaleripple, he could better see just who he rescued. The tom was old; his white chin was coated in aged gray and his eyes sagged. Had he not been soaked clean through, he would have been a fluffy old tom. He coughed up water and shivered hard enough to spray the warriors surrounding him.

"You're on dry land," Anchovystrike promised as Yellowburst licked the tom's fur the wrong way. "You've landed in RippleClan territory."

"The crew," the old tom croaked, staring back at the sea. "The ship! The storm!"

"We have cats who can take care of you," Yellowburst said, coughing out wet hair. The old tom's eyes shook, mouth half open and ears pushed back.

"They're gone," he moaned. "They're all gone."

"Were there other cats on your ship?" Boughfur asked. "Maybe they washed up somewhere else along the coast."

"Not cats," the tom whined. "My humans. I caught rats for them. They're gone! They're sunk!" He pushed himself off the rocks, but his back right leg gave out under him. He yowled, spasming as he smacked back onto the rocks.

"That looks broken," Scaleripple muttered as Anchovystrike and Yellowburst hurried to help.

"We could make a splint from all this wood," Boughfur realized, dragging over a small plank. "That should help him walk back to camp. Let me go find something to tie it on." Boughfur adjusted the dry flowers in her fur and hurried off to the forest. Scaleripple stared at the shipwrecked tom as he clawed at the stones, moaning. Loving humans, those strange, unknowable beacons of intelligence and craft, did not seem much different from how Scaleripple loved his family, or how they loved him.

"What's your name?" Scaleripple asked the soaked tom. The tom swallowed his grief and blinked saltwater out of his eyes.

"They named me Washington," he sighed. Scaleripple nodded softly, shoulders tense.

"I'm sorry, Washington," Scaleripple said.

For what else could be said? What else could be done?

(Brightreed: 21, male, warrior, righteous, student of art)

(Wolverineheart: 21, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)

(Scaleripple: 42, male, warrior, lonesome, formidable fighter)

(Yellowburst: 20, female, caretaker, adventurous, good mediator)

(Boughfur: 21, female, historian, righteous, great climber)

(Anchovystrike: 24, male, warrior, playful, unshakable StarClan link)

(Washington: 217, male, elder, nervous, good mediator)

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forestclan-clangen · 1 month ago

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MOON 3 (Final)

<< FIRST | < PREVIOUS |

- Talonpaw fought a fox, but barely got hurt! Iciclepool chides him for being reckless. She decides to show him why they don't confront predators in the forest. Large animals are at risk of being infected by Nature's Mockery. But cats and Twolegs? They can become Fake Beings if they're infected - entities with stolen bodies and voices.

(Iciclepool, deputy, female, 59 moons) (Talonpaw, apprentice, male, 7 moons)

---

Iciclepool was livid. “Ugh, Talonpaw, please, please just run from it next time.”

“But I was stronger than it - ow!" Talonpaw hissed as Windfur applied a poultice to his injury. A fox had barely managed to nick his shoulder, but otherwise, Talonpaw was fine.

“The foxes and badgers in the woods are NOT normal. You should’ve been seriously hurt there. I don’t understand how you aren’t.” Iciclepool snapped back.

The medicine den fell quiet for a few moments. Olive was sleeping, and Windfur wasn't one to say much - unless he was telling stories to kits or repeating a rhyme to himself. Windfur wrapped some cobweb around Talonpaw's wound.

“...What do you mean they’re not normal?” Talonpaw finally asked.

Windfur paused, then turned to look at Iciclepool. The two cats met each other's eyes, and a tacit message was given. Windfur's tail twitched. "...Can you two grab some conifer roots on the way home? If you could teach him how to peel the root bark and then bring it to Cloudthunder to boil it, that'd be nice. I'll need to make more rope."

Iciclepool raised an eyebrow. "I thought Hopechase weaved some rope with bulrush leaves last moon."

"Those are good for den building. Less for securing braces," he said, glancing at Olive sleeping in the back of the den.

"I see. Will do." Iciclepool sighed, then beckoned to Talonpaw. “...Come. It's time."

"What is?" Talonpaw asked.

"To teach you about Woodcrawlers.”

Sunhigh had already passed by the time Iciclepool brought Talonpaw to the edges of their territory. The further from camp he was, the more unfamiliar scents invaded his senses. It took everything in him to keep his fur laying flat.

Iciclepool walked with purpose through the weaving branches and unmarked trails. Talonpaw couldn't smell any recent markers where they were going - but he couldn't pick up the scent of any other cats either.

"Um...Iciclepool? Where are we going?"

"A place that ForestClan doesn't walk, and for good reason."

Talonpaw's bright blue eyes widened. "Then...why are we going there?" he asked warily.

"To show you the true capabilities of our enemies, and why we avoid fighting them if we can." Iciclepool came to a sudden stop, then raised her tail in warning. "...We're approaching now. Stay quiet."

Talonpaw froze, then suppressed a retch of disgust as a foul smell invaded his nostrils. It was an amalgamation of crowfood, wet earth, and blood. He hissed. "What is that?" he whispered aggressively.

Iciclepool didn't answer. Instead, she brought her tail to her mouth, indicating for him to stay quiet.

"Stay here," she hissed.

Talonpaw obeyed, his fur bristling and his ears perked. The deputy dropped down into a stalking crouch, and padded up to the edge of a fallen tree that blocked their path ahead. She peered over it slowly, ready to hide in case she saw something she shouldn't. Her heart thumped in her chest as she saw the old, abandoned Twoleg nest, its walls still standing and its windows still intact. It was like nothing had changed in the two years that she and Redstar had originally found it. The windows were foggier as the seasons took their toll on the cleanliness of the building - but that was all. She narrowed her eyes in an attempt to see if the creatures that stalked its halls were still there.

Then, she saw it. A Twoleg hobbled in front of one of the large windows. It froze unnaturally in place, staring at a wall within the building, its arms pulled outward and down, like it was being shackled by the earth below.

Iciclepool did not see the fur-less flesh that Twolegs normally had. Roots had now engulfed it entirely. The fur on her neck stood on end. No matter how many times she saw this, she was never used to it.

She wordlessly beckoned Talonpaw to approach her. The apprentice swallowed anxiously, then carefully crawled up beside Iciclepool.

"Lift your head up. Keep your voice down, and do not make any sudden movements. Look inside the nest."

Talonpaw did as Iciclepool instructed, and his eyes widened in terror as he saw the Twoleg-like creature within. He could feel his heart bursting from his chest.

"What is that?"

"That," she whispered, "is what Woodcrawlers are capable of."

The two cats fell silent as they both saw another Twoleg-like creature shuffle near another one of the windows, in the same, arms-extended position. This one's mouth was still intact, its lips and jaw moving in unnaturally wide shapes, as though constantly trying to yowl.

Talonpaw's fur bristled. He'd heard about Twolegs from Windfur and Barleywave's stories, but he never saw one before. He imagined them to be alien, bulky creatures with advanced tools and powerful abilities to manipulate any terrain they came across. Just like cats, they could be kind and welcoming, or extremely hostile. But no matter what, they were everywhere. Twolegs have existed for as long as cats have, and while kittypets have learned to live alongside them at the cost of their freedom and ability to carry or sire kits, Talonpaw didn't necessarily blame the kittypets. He wouldn't ever want that for himself. But Barleywave once told him that Twolegs would outlive the oldest cat four times over. Talonpaw assumed that Twolegs were so strong that nothing could ever stop them. At least, if cats couldn't defeat the Woodcrawlers, Twolegs could.

He was wrong.

"Woodcrawlers...kill Twolegs?" he uttered.

"They do more than that, Talonpaw," she said gravely. "They infect and change the shape of any living thing. Any predator has a chance of being under the influence of a Woodcrawler. Most will move unnaturally, or have roots and growths where they shouldn't, but will still move like an animal. This is why you don't fight foxes or badgers, even if you believe you can defeat them."

Talonpaw couldn't take his eyes off of the unnatural movement of the infected Twolegs.

"But this infection is different. This is when Woodcrawlers have taken complete control over someone's body. We call these 'fakes'. They look and sound like their original species, but they're overwhelmed by roots. Their entire purpose is to lure others towards them, to be infected by more Woodcrawlers."

Iciclepool placed a paw on his shoulder, and the two crouched behind the fallen log, out of sight of the nest. Talonpaw tensed, but Iciclepool brushed her tail over her apprentice's back, forcing his fur to fall flat.

"Talonpaw. Listen closely. What I'm about to tell you now is very important."

Talonpaw gave an imperceptible nod.

"Cats will die in your lifetime. We will do everything in our power to prevent it. But cats will still die, whether they be a part of ForestClan, or an unfortunate wanderer. If they vanish at nightfall, and do not reappear in the morning, they are dead. Which means," Iciclepool's eyes hardened, and her voice became grave. "If you hear their voice calling for help, leave the area immediately. That's not them. Do not move towards the sound. If you can hear them, they have already heard you. Go to camp, and alert us to its presence. Under no circumstances do you follow their voice. Do you understand?"

He did know what else to say. His mouth agape, and with a new fear deeply ingrained within him, he nodded.

Out. He wanted out. Now.

"C-Can we go?" he mewed. He felt like a kit in the nursery again.

To his relief, Iciclepool nodded. "Yes. Quietly now. When we pass by the large oak, we'll be far enough away to take a breather. And...please, do stop and rest. Find your footing. Feel your feelings and ask your questions. We'll collect some conifer roots like Windfur asked..."

---

< PREVIOUS | NEXT >

#warrior cats #clangen #clan generator #warrior cats clangen #wc oc #wc art #clangen art #gemini home entertainment #fanfic #forestclan #forestclan moons #horror #Iciclepool #Talonpaw #Windfur

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clangenrising · 9 months ago

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Month 15 - Newleaf

Prev | First | Next

Mystique went into labor around sunhigh. Russetfrond was out on border patrol when it happened and the moment he got back, Barleybee came to let him know.

“Thank you,” he said, gratitude quickly overwhelmed with nerves.

“Of course,” she smiled sympathetically. “She’s still in the elders’ den. Sagetooth and my dad are with her.”

“Alright,” he nodded. They stood there for an awkward moment, neither sure what to do, before Barleybee dipped her head and left him to his business. His mind was completely empty and going faster than a frightened rabbit at the same time. After either a few moments or several minutes, he wasn’t sure, Russetfrond gathered himself together and went to sit outside the elders’ den.

He resisted the urge to pace or to barge into the den to ask how things were going. He’d seen too many anxious parents-to-be get their ears chewed off by Sagetooth when they intruded on a kitting in progress. Instead, he sat still and tried to focus on his breathing, on emptying all worry from his mind. Today was important, the birth of his eldest kits. He wasn’t going to squander it worrying. He was going to focus on his new family, on the beginning of a new chapter in his ultimate legacy.

The time dragged by at an unbearable crawl. Every so often a cat stopped by to congratulate him or ask him how things were going. He remained as polite as possible but kept things short. He didn’t want any distractions.

Eventually, an hour or so later, Sagetooth stepped outside, blood on her paws, and glanced over at him. “Are you ready?”

“Is any father ever ready?” he asked, almost hoping she would say yes.

“I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. A quiet moment passed as Sagetooth let her gaze drift across the camp. When it finally settled on him again, she said, “Congratulations on two healthy boys. Be warned though: the kittypet is in a mood.”

“I’m sure I can handle it,” he said, a fond smile spreading across his face. “Thank you, Sagetooth. I mean it.”

“Of course, kit,” she softened slightly. “Go meet your sons.” Russetfrond nodded and slipped past her into the den, letting his tail brush against her leg as he did. Inside, Mystique was laying in her nest, her head flat on the ground like a mopy kitten while she talked softly with Oddstripe.

“-bring you some chamomile later,” Oddstripe was saying. “It’s gonna be alright, sweetheart. Don’t hesitate to call me if you start feeling any worse.”

“...‘Kay,” Mystique sighed moodily, eyes flickering over Russetfrond. He tried not to scowl.

Oddstripe bumped foreheads with Mystique and then picked up the birthwaste and stood to leave. Spotting Russetfrond he frowned slightly, if sympathetically, and slipped out of the den past him. Russetfrond shifted his weight, looked at Mystique, and she sighed and rolled her eyes over to the far wall.

Russetfrond stepped closer, focusing on the two gently squirming bodies nestled up against her belly. They were so tiny. Russetfrond realized suddenly that he’d never seen kittens this… new. The kits - his boys - were a little wet yellow lump and a little wet blue lump mewling pathetically as they wriggled closer to Mystique. It was strange, the surge of emotion that he felt upon seeing them. He’d never felt so intensely protective before, it was a bit startling.

“Hello, there, little ones,” he said awkwardly, crouching down beside them. “I’m your father.” Mystique huffed and shifted her position a little bit, still not looking at him. He couldn’t stop himself from scowling at her but tried to soften his expression again with a sigh.

“You haven’t named them yet, have you?” he asked, a note of irritation sneaking in to his voice despite his best efforts.

“No,” Mystique said as if he were the dumbest cat alive. “Why would I name them?”

That caused his hackles to rise. “Because they’re your children, mouse-brain,” he scoffed.

Mystique’s tail lashed and she flopped her head sideways to glare at him. “No, I feel like you made it pretty clear they were your children.”

“Look,” Russetfrond took a deep breath to try and anchor himself, “I didn’t come in here to fight with you, let’s just… forget it, alright?”

“Easy for you to say,” Mystique grumbled, looking away again. Russetfrond dug his claws into the earth and did his very best not to say anything at all. After a few, slow breaths, he refocused on the kittens. They would need names, of course. He had unfortunately forgotten to think about names before now.

“I’ll call them…” He hesitated before going with the first thoughts that came to mind, “Bluekit and Yellowkit.”

“Wow,” Mystique laughed and he could hear the eye roll in her voice, “so original.”

“If you think they’re bad names then why don’t you try to do better,” he snapped, tail bristling.

“I don’t give a shit what you call them,” growled Mystique. “The moment Sagetooth lets me, I'm going home and I’ll never see them or you ever again!”

“Well, that’s fine by me,” Russetfrond huffed. “I wouldn’t want you influencing them anyway.”

“Oh, yeah,” Mystique laughed harshly, “better to have a bunch of murderers raise them. That’s SO much better!”

Russetfrond bristled. “Your brother was the murderer. He attacked Goldenstar out of spite, I was just defending my Clan.”

“Well clearly it wasn’t that bad ‘cause she’s fine,” Mystique snarled. Tears were starting to form in her eyes and drip down the bridge of her nose. “You think you’re so special but you’re never gonna convince me that it’s good that you killed him! I hate you! I hate you and your stupid kits and this stupid den!”

“Don’t talk about them like that,” he growled lowly.

“You’re lucky I don’t throw them in the river!” hissed Mystique.

Russetfrond bristled and arched his back. “You harm one hair on their pelts and I’ll make sure you never see your precious twolegs again! Is that what you want?”

“I want to go home!” she cried at the top of her lungs and the kittens squealed in displeasure. “I want my brother back!”

“Well too bad!” he shouted back at her. “You can’t always have what you want, you spoiled little brat!”

“I hate you!” Mystique screamed, eyes shut tight with the effort of it. “I hate you! I hate you! I-”

“What is going on in here!?” Sagetooth’s voice cut through their argument, quick and sharp, leaving Russetfrond standing in a puddle of guilt. The healer’s eyes flicked between the both of them, looking for a culprit. Russetfrond couldn’t hold her gaze and dropped his eyes to the floor shamefully. Mystique breathed harshly through her nose and looked away again.

“Out,” Sagetooth ordered Russetfrond.

He couldn’t think of anything to say. With an affirmative grunt, he stepped outside. Fogpaw and Slatepaw were staring with wide eyes from the fresh-kill pile. Pantherhaze, Ospreymask, Barleybee, and Lakekit had all emerged to see what was going on. Shame covered Russetfrond like a winter coat. Unable to bear their stares, he strode briskly into the healers’ den and tucked himself away out of sight.

There was a long moment of quiet guilt - why had he done that? What was wrong with him? - and then he heard Sagetooth snapping at the assembled cats, “Where did he go?”

“Your den,” offered Slatepaw obediently.

“Thank you,” said Sagetooth just as harshly as she had inquired after him and he braced himself. Sagetooth came stomping in, tail lashing back and forth, and spotted him immediately. He expected her to start laying into him but instead, she sighed and trundled over to sit next to him.

“I tried to warn you,” she grumbled.

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not entirely your fault,” Sagetooth shook her head. “Mystique is reacting poorly to the pregnancy.”

“Clearly,” he huffed.

“No, I mean physically,” Sagetooth said. “Kitting takes a toll on a cat and sometimes it can make them miserable for seemingly no reason. They call it a Kitten Crash.”

“Oh,” he frowned in surprise.

“So,” Sagetooth continued, her own voice strained with frustration for a moment, “as much as her particular form of crashing drives me mad, we need to be gentle with her.” It was clear Sagetooth was going to have as much trouble with that as he was. “She can’t exactly help it. And if her symptoms worsen, it could be very bad.”

“Bad how?” asked Russetfrond carefully.

“Well, she could stop eating,” Sagetooth sighed. “Or refuse to nurse. Worst case scenario she tries to hurt herself or the kits.”

“What?” fear spiked through his body like a jolt of electricity. “Shouldn’t we get them away from her?”

“No,” Sagetooth shook her head again. “She’s the only one who can feed them at the moment and that’s not a guarantee, it’s just a worst case scenario. That’s why we need to be gentle with her. The less stressed she is, the less likely it is that she’ll do something foolish.”

Russetfrond swallowed, throat tight, and sat with that information for a bit. The idea of leaving a dangerous cat alone with his kits, a cat who hated him so much, made every inch of his pelt crawl like it was full of ants. She had already threatened to throw them in the river, a threat that was suddenly a lot more serious than he had first thought.

“You’re sure it will be alright?” he asked eventually.

“If it gets to a point where it’s dangerous, we’ll do something about it,” Sagetooth said. “She should probably still have a guard at all times so they can monitor her for any bad behavior.” Russetfrond nodded and started thinking of the best cats to do that.

“The important thing,” Sagetooth continued, “is to keep her happy. Oddstripe and I will do our best on the herbs side of things but you should probably stay out of the den, at least for a while.”

Russetfrond sighed and nodded. “Alright. That won’t affect the kits negatively?”

“I don’t think so,” Sagetooth said. “Not anymore than a normal foundling would be affected.” Russetfrond hummed in discomfort. It wasn’t ideal, that was for sure, but what else could he do? He didn’t want to accidentally provoke Mystique into harming the kittens.

“Did you name them?” asked Sagetooth.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, shaking his thoughts away. “Yellowkit and Bluekit, respectively.”

Sagetooth huffed a little laugh. “Well, I can’t say they’re not fitting.” Russetfrond smiled a little. “Congratulations, by the way,” continued Sagetooth. “You’re going to be an excellent father.”

“I can only hope so,” he said.

“StarClan will guide you,” she said. “Trust your heart. It will be okay, kit.”

UPDATES:

- Mystique gives birth to a litter of two kittens. Russetfrond names them Bluekit and Yellowkit.

#clangen #clan gen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #clangenrising #Newleaf #Russetfrond #Mystique #Sagetooth #Bluekit #Yellowkit #Oddstripe #New Kits

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loonarmuunar · 2 hours ago

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Hey so you know how children’s games are made to teach kids things like coordination, teamwork, counting, running, etc etc? Physical, social, and mental skills?

And taking that into account, isn’t it REALLY WEIRD that kits and apprentices don’t often play games besides wrestling or playing with moss balls? When they live in a society where they’re expected and encouraged to be physically active, work together as a unit, and come up with battle strategies? Also um, isn’t it weird that kits just… know how to talk?

ANYWAYS this is a version of Mr Wolf I came up with, for kitty cats! Instead of calling out a clock time (because they don’t have those…), the “wolf” calls out a time of day, or a season.

For younger kits, still learning to talk, and to keep the counting simpler, they’ll count the syllables of the time/season, and take a step for each one. (Ex: Newleaf -> NEW-LEAD, two syllables -> take two steps)

For older kits, and apprentices, they would count the letters, and take a step for each one. (Ex: Sunhigh -> S-U-N-H-I-G-H, seven letters -> take seven steps)

This is a game intended for slightly older kits, as to teach them all the times of day (aka, PATROL and CLAN GUARD times!) and seasons, and to encourage older kits/apprentices to listen for when a cat is close…

I have more things to say about this, and lots of other potential game ideas, but yeah!

(Pssst, Lionpaw’s design is inspired by this Lionblaze!! By @kingpinparrot !!! His art is super awesome go look at it!!!!!)

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mommyclaws · 1 year ago

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this is a little off topic but i do think the warriors don't have enough recreational activities. they rarely play or claw stuff up or run around for funsies like no wonder they beat the shit out of each other or get so excited to go on little missions and hunts, they're too cooped up with no good releases besides maybe training. doing anything remotely fun is considered kit/apprentice/kittypet behavior. i wish they did more group exercises or play, like the clan olympics squirrelflight put together or more group herb runs for the medcats

Yeah, everything's pretty plot driven in the books. I headcanon/imagine the clans are just very strict societies like that. Apprentices and kits are almost always scolded or scorned at for playing or goofing off even when they're so young. I think playfulness is just something that's hammered out of them as the age. At home you're expected to be useful and working, in front of other clans you're expected to be representing your strength and prosper regardless of if your clan is struggling or not. There's no time for fun in a society that's all about honor...

Doesn't help either that the characters aren't really written to be realistic in animal behavior. Cats are very curious and like to explore, they're distracted easily, and still show play behaviors when they're mature or even elderly.

Personally I think apprentices should get a sort of "recess" period. Like at sunhigh when all of the warriors relax to share tongues, apprentices are relieved of their duties and allowed to play or wander nearby. I'm sure they'd come up with plenty of their own games and activities to do on their own, maybe even convince some of the warriors or elders to join.

#ty for the ask! :]#txt #asks #clan culture

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talonslockau · 2 months ago

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Forest of Secrets - Chapter 52

Chapter 51 || Index || Chapter 53

Fireheart sat beneath the Highrock, sharing a pigeon with Bluestar as the rest of the Clan shared tongues. The camp was even more excited than usual: Goldenflower had sent for Dewshine and Yellowfang just before sunhigh, because Frostfur had begun kitting. The camp was full of speculation - how many kits there would be, what they’d look like, even what their names might be. The only cats absent from camp were Peppermask and Princess - they’d taken the kits out to a nearby meadow to play so they wouldn’t interrupt the healers working or irritate Frostfur (who even Goldenflower had admitted was ‘a bit snappish at the moment’).

“Are you excited?” Fireheart prompted Bluestar after a long silence. She glanced up at him for a moment, chewing on the pigeon thoughtfully. Then she nodded and sat up.

“Of course. New kittens are always welcome in the Clan.” She purred, blinking happily in the direction of the nursery. “I know Whitestorm and Lionheart will be good parents for them. I thought, after Whitestorm…”

She trailed off for a moment, a worried look in her eyes. “After Whitestorm?” Fireheart prompted, but she didn’t respond. He recognized that look: the same one she often had when speaking about Snowstorm, or her kits. It was her being haunted by the family she had lost; and, as he thought about it, he realized he was fairly certain what she was thinking of. “Are you talking about the leafbare before I joined? He told me that he’d almost died from greencough.”

Bluestar sighed deeply and nodded in response. “Yes. Spottedleaf told me to prepare his vigil, for he would only recover from the grace of Starclan. Through Starclan’s grace, he did recover, although…” She didn’t finish her sentence, but Fireheart could guess at the ending - although many didn’t. “You know how lonely it is in the Clan without any family, Fireheart. It wasn’t so long ago that I faced the same. It’s hard to let go of the past, sometimes.”

Fireheart wasn’t sure he fully understood, but he dipped his head to her nonetheless. “But now he’s having kits. Surely that’s reason enough to move on?”

“Yes.” Bluestar agreed readily to her deputy, a smile flickering over her lips. “Yes, it is. I know he has always wanted kits of his own. And now they are here, and I hope they are everything he imagined them to be and more.” Pain still showed in her eyes - remembering her own kits, perhaps, or still lingering on how she’d almost lost her nephew - but she turned to Fireheart with perked ears, ignoring her feelings. “Your own nephews and nieces are quite lovely. Little Cloudkit especially - I’ve never felt kitten teeth so sharp!”

Fireheart purred at the compliment from his leader, remembering how Sootkit and Rainkit had knocked her over. “Yes, I’m glad they’re here in Thunderclan. I can’t wait to see their apprentice ceremonies - though they can hardly wait either!” He glanced fondly at the camp entrance, imagining them romping around in a field of flowers with reckless abandon. “They’re all so excited to have new playmates, though they don’t seem to fully understand how small newborns are.”

“It’s a hard thing for a kit to comprehend.” Bluestar mewed in understanding. “For much of their life, they’re the smallest cats around! It’s hard to imagine anything being smaller.” She sighed and wistfully looked off at the nursery, clearly remembering some time long past. “I didn’t get to see a newborn kit until Robinwing had her litter, when I was already a warrior. I was shocked to see a cat small enough to fit in my paws!”

Fireheart nodded, remembering how small Lynxkit had been. She was essentially the same size as Sootkit and Rainkit now, with Sorrelkit having become the new runt. The thought of her becoming even the three moon old kit she was now amazed him. “I know what you mean. They’re basically the size of a mou-”

“FIREHEART!”

The deputy sat up with a bolt of panic as he heard his name howled loud enough to be heard from Fourtrees. Princess had just clawed her way through the bramble entrance, racing towards him with terrified puffed fur. “Fireheart, Cloudkit’s gone missing!” She cried, her green eyes already full of tears.

For a moment, Fireheart felt frozen with fear. Cloudkit had gone missing? “What happened?” He finally managed to stammer out, feeling the heat of the entire Clan watching him as he swallowed hard.

“I- I don’t-” She took a huge gulping breath, her whole body trembling as she looked up at her brother. “They were chasing this - this butterfly, in the flowers. It was bright, I didn’t see anyone, everything was okay. Peppermask and I smiled at each other - it was just a couple of heartbeats! We were just - we were happy, everything was nice, and-” Princess’ white paws were kneading in and out of the dirt below her in an attempt to calm herself. “I swear, Fireheart, he just vanished!”

“Calm down.” Fireheart was grateful to hear Bluestar speak up beside him. “What about the other kits and Peppermask? Are they okay?”

Princess stared at the leader as though she had suddenly turned purple. “I- I don’t-” She took another deep shuddering breath, clearly on the verge of hyperventilating. “Peppermask told me to come tell you, Fireheart. She said she’d tell them a story to keep them calm and in one place.”

Why in Starclan’s name would Peppermask tell Princess to do that? The thought echoed in his mind for too long, as Bluestar and Princess both stared at him. What did they want from him? He didn’t know how to find a kit! He was just-

Right, he was deputy. He was supposed to take care of this. He racked his brain, trying to figure out what Quickflash would do in this situation. Maybe he could order a patrol? He hesitated at the thought. Was that an abuse of his power, though? After all, it was one kit - maybe he should just go and help her find Cloudkit. What would the Clan think if they had to search all over the forest for a kittypet kit?

No, he thought to himself after a heartbeat, that was a flea-brained thought. Kits were the most important part of the Clan! The warrior code itself said that no kit could be neglected, no matter their origin. Whether Cloudkit’s parents were kittypet or not didn’t matter. The Clan would expect to be sent out to find a lost kit. Their territory was safe, generally, but there was always a chance that something had snuck past one of their borders. Not to mention the owl, or hawks, any of which could pick off an unsuspecting kit.

“Speckleflight.” Fireheart stepped forward and spoke now, still keenly aware that nearly all of the Clan’s eyes were on him. The elder blinked at him in surprise. “Take Rosetail and go with Princess to help Peppermask keep the other kits calm. The last thing we need is two missing kits.”

The pale golden queen nodded, glancing around to see Rosetail already standing up. Fireheart watched as Speckleflight came up alongside Princess, mewing something softly to her as the two older tortoiseshells led her out of camp. The older queens, he figured, would be able to help calm Princess in addition to telling the kits all sorts of fun stories for however long it took to find Cloudkit.

He surveyed camp, assessing which cats were best to go out looking for a kit. “We’ll form three patrols, each taking a different direction from the meadow. I want Cloudkit found as quickly and quietly as possible.” There was no dissent at his order, cats beginning to sit up and wait to be called. “Mousefur, you’ll take Mistspring and Dustleap and head towards the Riverclan border. Sandstorm, you’ll take Willowbranch and Graystripe towards the Shadowclan border. Dappleshine, you and Tinyfrost will be with me heading towards Tallpines. Longtail, Cinderspark, Bluestar, and the apprentices will stay behind and guard camp.”

Across camp, Cinderspark turned away, her tail low in disappointment. Fireheart understood why she was disappointed that she hadn’t been picked - likely wondering if he hadn’t chosen her because once again, he didn’t trust her. He briefly wished he could reassure her, to tell her that she had been given the most important mission of all. He doubted that this was a ploy to get the Clan out of camp, but he couldn’t help but remember what had happened the last time kits had gone missing. Brokentail was dead, but his rogues were still out there - and now, more than ever, they were probably seeking revenge against Thunderclan.

Fireheart wanted this to be nothing more than Cloudkit accidentally running off, but he had to prepare for the worst.

“Let’s go!” He barked, lashing his tail once for the warriors to follow him before turning and leaving camp. He didn’t need to look to know they were following him - he could hear the march of many pawsteps and the rustling of brambles through the tunnel behind him. Fireheart instead kept his eyes on the trail again - following the thick fear-scent of his sister, which he had to focus on to keep from overwhelming him.

The meadow wasn’t far from camp - about as far away as the training hollow was, but on the other side of the ravine. There, Speckleflight was cooing softly at his niblings sitting amongst pale blue flowers, likely telling them a story about times long ago. Rosetail was sitting off to the side, doing her best to console Princess and Peppermask alike. The kits were occasionally glancing at their mama, clearly picking up on her fear, but politely listening to Speckleflight nonetheless.

He could see all four of them look eagerly towards him as the three patrols entered the meadow, but he had no time to stop and reassure them. He had to trust that the elders, Princess, and Peppermask would be enough eyes on his remaining niblings to keep them safe. Instead, with a swift nod shared between the patrols, they all turned and raced off towards their assigned directions.

“Dappleshine, you should take the lead. You’re the best hunter out of all of us.” Fireheart mewed, slowing down slightly to allow the tortoiseshell to do just that. There was no time for bragging, or for modesty: while Tinyfrost and Fireheart were both good hunters, it was well known within the Clan that Dappleshine had the sharpest nose and had taught two of the other great hunters in the Clan.

She slipped forward without complaint at the opening, keeping her nose raised as she drew air over her tongue to try and find a scent. Silently, Fireheart motioned for Tinyfrost to flank her on her other side, the three spreading out so that they could cover as much ground as possible without losing sight of each other in the forest undergrowth.

The ginger deputy tried to keep himself calm, taking deep breaths of the scents of the wild to keep his heart from racing. As scared as he was for his nephew, out in the forest on his own, allowing his fear to overtake him would only smother the other warriors’ attempts to scent out Cloudkit.

The forest was full of dangers - even things that would only bother a fully grown warrior could be deadly for a young kit. What if Cloudkit fell into a hole and couldn’t get back out? If he strayed out towards the Twolegplace, he would run into dogs - even the smallest of which would be impossible for a kit to handle on his own. And if he went towards the Owltree, and the owl was in the mood for a midday snack-

No, Fireheart couldn’t allow himself to imagine such horrors, forcing himself to take another couple of deep breaths as he continued flanking Dappleshine. For all he knew, one of the other patrols had found his nephew already. Maybe Cloudkit was already safe and sound, listening to Speckleflight tell a mighty tale about Lynxstar of Leopardclan and how she had driven out the fearsome Stonescales from the river. He could have even found his way back to the meadow on his own, having gotten bored of playing with himself.

There was no reason to-

“I smell him!” Fireheart’s ears perked forward as he heard Dappleshine’s call. Immediately, the other two warriors converged on her, finding her sniffing at a fallen log. “He climbed on top of this.” She explained as they both scented at the bark. Fireheart didn’t know whether to be thankful they had finally caught a trail, or furious that his nephew had gone so far into the forest on his own. They were almost at Tallpines! What had Cloudkit been thinking?

“Fireheart.” The deputy looked up at the sound of his old mentor’s quiet voice, seeing Tinyfrost sniffing at the air rather than the log. “Do you smell that?”

Both Fireheart and Dappleshine scented at the air, trying to discern what Tinyfrost was hinting at. It took Fireheart several heartbeats, but as soon as he did, his face wrinkled in disgust. “That’s the foulest smelling dog I’ve ever scented.” He growled disdainfully, before fear seized his heart. It was a recent scent. “You don’t think-”

“It’s not dog. It’s badger.” Dappleshine snarled out, pacing forward as her hackles began to rise. “That’s close. Somewhere in our territory, I think.”

Fireheart didn’t know what to do. He’d never seen a badger before - only heard tales about them swapped between the warriors. They were huge, lumbering beasts, big enough that a cat the size of Lionheart could ride on their backs, with claws as long as whiskers. Mistspring had mentioned driving one off once, in a combined effort between Windclan and Thunderclan. Three warriors couldn’t be enough to chase one out of their territory!

But Cloudkit was nearby. They couldn’t leave, not without finding his nephew. What if the badger found him? He was a white kit, after all, standing out amongst the greens and browns of the forest. He hadn’t had any battle training - he’d be easy prey -

The two other warriors were staring at him. Once again, Fireheart could feel bile rising in his throat. He was deputy - he had to make a decision. But what if Cloudkit died because of him? How could he go back to Princess and tell her that her kit could have lived, if he’d just made the right-

“We find the badger first.” Tinyfrost cut through his thoughts with the same quiet, icy tone he always had. “If the kit’s smart, he’ll have scented it and climbed a tree to wait for us. If he’s not, then we better get to it before it gets to him.” With that ominous note, Tinyfrost turned and began leading the way through the forest, towards the edge of Tallpines.

There was no need to taste the air now - the badger’s scent was thick and musty, like the marshes of Shadowclan had been when Fireheart had gone with Graystripe to defeat Brokentail and his rogues. It took everything in him not to completely block out the pungent odor - and he could tell that the other two warriors with him were feeling just the same.

“Help me!”

The voice was faint, but all three cats knew exactly who it was as it floated through the trees. As one, the three bounded forward, racing through the forest towards Cloudkit’s desperate cries. “Somebody! Help! Don’t let it get me!” They got louder and louder, until-

The three burst through the foliage into a large stony clearing sparsely covered by dry tufts of grass. On the far end was a small cliff, where a huge gray figure was swiping furiously at a crack in the bottom. Though he couldn’t see inside, Fireheart already knew what the badger was swiping at- Cloudkit.

“Tinyfrost, take its back! I’ll distract it from the front. Dappleshine, get Cloudkit out when it’s safe!” Fireheart was already barking out the orders as he dived forward, yowling a bitter battle cry as he lashed out at one of the badger’s front paws. It immediately turned towards him with baleful, beady eyes, returning his battle cry with a furious screech that rang through the air. Fireheart ducked as it swiped a large, clumsy paw at him, its claws easily thrice the length of his own. Fear and determination surged through his veins in equal measure; fear that this fight would be his last, and determination not to let it get to Cloudkit at any cost.

He swiped at its disgustingly large muzzle, his claws scoring through the coarse black and white fur with surprising ease. The badger was large, yes, but slow; slower than Tigerclaw had been, even. It let out another shrill scream as blood welled up from where his claws had been, lunging towards him with its massive bulk.

Fireheart took three quick steps back, luring the beast away from his nibling. It pounced towards him again, claws scoring into the earth once more as he took another pair of quick back steps. Before he could move further, however, a black shadow materialized on top of the badger: heartbeats later, it howled in furious pain as Tinyfrost dug into its thick gray fur with his claws and began biting for whatever he could reach.

The badger reared back, clearly intending to force its new attacker off, but before it could Fireheart had leaped forward to his former mentor’s aid, claws tearing away the tawny fur of its underbelly. He ducked back as the badger slashed wildly out with its giant claws, screeching furiously as it realized it was outnumbered.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Dappleshine race by with a distinctly white blur, and he immediately felt a wave of relief. Cloudkit was safe, which meant-

Fireheart yowled in shock as pain streaked through one side. He’d let himself be distracted for mere heartbeats - but heartbeats were long enough for the brutish creature, lunging forward to tear into his shoulder with its fangs. His first instinct was to tear away from it, but he forced himself to instead lean into the bite and use the opportunity to rake his claws down its neck. The badger immediately released him, shaking both one way and then the other as attacks came in from what surely felt like all sides.

Even as the pain filled his thoughts, Fireheart forced himself not to dwell on it, instead focusing on the beast in front of him. It was lashing out blindly now, clearly trying to get all the attacks to stop. “Tinyfrost! Let it go!” He called out to the small black tom.

Tinyfrost complied, sinking his fangs into its ear one last time before loosening his claws and letting the badger’s momentum throw him off to one side. It flailed out for another couple of heartbeats as the two warriors regrouped together, its tiny eyes flashing with panic as the attacks stopped as quickly as they had come.

“Get out!” Tinyfrost snarled, advancing on the creature with his claws prepared for more attacks. Fireheart quickly copied him, advancing on the badger with his fur puffed out as far as he could get it. As soon as they did, the badger turned quickly away from them towards the open forest beyond Tallpines. As soon as it saw a clear opening, it bolted, bounding away on its stubby legs into the woods beyond their border.

The two toms stood side by side as they watched it race off, their hearts still pounding from the thrill of the fight. Fireheart’s side began to sting, a sign that he would surely be visiting the healers shortly, but he once again pushed it away to turn and look for his nibling. “Dappleshine? Cloudkit? Are you alright?” He called softly, a tiny bolt of anxiety spiking through him. They had to be safe, right? There was no way they could have gotten hurt while he was fighting-

He sighed in relief as Dappleshine waddled into the clearing, carrying Cloudkit by his scruff. He was a bit too big for it now, dragging in the dirt between her legs, but the older queen didn’t seem to notice as she came to stand in front of Fireheart and Tinyfrost. She released his nephew gracelessly, and he fell into the dirt below with a thin wail.

“What in Starclan’s name were you doing out here?” Fireheart snarled at the little white kit, his tail lashing in anger now that the danger had passed. “You’ve got your mother worried sick, and the whole Clan tearing up the forest looking for you! Didn’t your mother tell you not to wander off?”

There was genuine fear in Cloudkit’s bold blue eyes, but as Fireheart lectured him he could see that same stubborn defiance that his nephew normally had beginning to leak back in. “I didn’t wander off.” He refuted, his chin sticking up into the air as he stared down his uncle.

“Didn’t wander off?” Fireheart scoffed, his anger only rising at his nephew’s audacity. “This hardly looks like the meadow where you’re supposed to be playing with your siblings, does it? Not to mention you’re only treelengths from the border, with no other cat to be seen, hiding from a badger - how exactly do you expect me to believe you didn’t wander off?”

“I didn’t!” Cloudkit repeated, stomping one tiny white paw. “I followed a warrior out here!”

Fireheart could hear noises of confusion from the other two cats, but he didn’t stop to let it bother him. “And how, exactly, did you follow a warrior out here when all of them were back in camp?” He spat, lashing his tail once more in emphasis. “Which warrior was this? Graystripe? Mistspring? Maybe Lionheart?”

Cloudkit looked confused at all the names. “I- I don’t- he didn’t say what his name was.” He mewed plaintively, his eyebrows furrowing as if in brief confusion. “But he said he had found something super cool to show me, so I followed him, but then he was gone and I got lost and then- then that thing-”

“And I suppose you expect me to believe this imaginary warrior grew wings and flew, right in front of your eyes.” Fireheart snapped, losing any patience he might have had left for his nephew. “Making up some warrior that doesn’t exist isn’t going to get you out of trouble, Cloudkit. But I’ll let your mother decide your punishment.”

Cloudkit immediately started complaining, furiously reasserting that he definitely had seen a real warrior that smelled of Thunderclan and everything, but Fireheart tuned him out and turned to the other two warriors. “Dappleshine, why don’t you go find Sandstorm’s patrol near the Riverclan border and let them know we’ve found him. Tinyfrost, you do the same for Mousefur’s patrol near Shadowclan. I’ll take this little troublemaker back to his mother.”

The two warriors looked slightly dubious at his orders, but if they had any doubts they didn’t voice them, instead turning away and racing off towards their respective areas. Fireheart advanced on Cloudkit, who could only stumble back a couple of steps before he was unceremoniously scruffed by his uncle. With a bitter scowl, still trying to ignore the pain of the badger bite in his side, Fireheart began carrying his nephew back to Princess and to safety. Leave it to Cloudkit to ruin an otherwise happy day, he grumbled to himself, satisfying his anger at his nephew by imagining all the punishments that he would suffer for this as the two made their way back to camp.

#talonslock #warrior cats #the prophecies begin #fanfic #thunderclan #talonslock story #forest of secrets #fireheart

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liviavanrouge · 1 year ago

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Crowned Princess

???: Did you hear the rumors..

???: The crowned princess has gotten Black Mages under her thumb!

???: They were always so stubborn before!

???: *Laughs* A guard said they came to the princess on their hands and knees!

???: Serves them right! The crowned princess found their secret stash of mage rocks, now they're crawling to her in order to make sure the mine stays hidden!

???: OUR PRINCESS IS THE BEST!!

---

Nilo: Princess, can you tell me-

???: Three thousand two hundred and eight years ago, Halloween Town was ruled by a ruthless king who was struck down by his children...

Nilo: You're getting sassy.....Crowned Princess Livia

Livia(18): Apologies, I noticed it's past the time I usually leave class...besides I've been through all this..

Nilo: *Chuckles and closes his book* King Malleus wants to make sure his heir hasn't forgotten her lessons

Malleus: *Walks in* And my, my, she hasn't forgotten a single one

Livia: Hi Mal!

Lacey: *Walks in carrying her baby and a letter* Princess, you have a letter from Gidel!

Livia: GIDEL?!! *Beams, taking the letter*

Malleus: What does it say?

Livia: He's doing well in school and his writing has gotten better too!

Lacey: That's great!!

Livia: Lacey, tell Isabella to bring me my cloak, I'm gonna drop by for a quick visit!

Malleus: *Clears his throat* Forgetting something are we?

Livia: Aha...and tell Sebek he's to escort me...

Malleus: *Nods, looking approving

Lacey: *Turns and walks out, gently shushing her baby*

Malleus: Be safe...

Livia: Aren't I always? Oh, and when I get back I gotta finish that stuff for the trading we're gonna be doing with the Kingscholar family!

Malleus: *Smiles, walking out of the room with Nilo*

Nilo: Her highness is very smart and wise for her age, she's done so much and grew the Valley

Malleus: She brought it into prosperity, faster than I could've ever done it...

Nilo: She may not be of Draconia blood, but she will become a great Queen when her time comes, you made the right choice crowning her as your heir

Malleus: I did...

---

Livia: *Smiles, waving to the people in the town*

Spot: Hello princess!

Livia: Hey, oh my, you've gotten bigger!

Spot's mother: Yes, he's been eating all his veggies

Livia: That's good!

Kia: Morning princess!

Livia: Morning!

Sebek: *Trails after her, watching people excitedly greet Livia*

Livia: Oh dear! *Waves her hands, regrowing the wilting fruit*

Harrison: Thanks princess, it's getting harder to work with my leg...

Livia: Stop by the Spirit Temple at sunhigh, I shall tend to your leg..

Sebek: Princess, The Drift will be appearing soon

Livia: Yes, let's hurry.. *Waves, hurrying away with Sebek*

Harrison: *Looks at his garden then over at Livia* That's a princess worth fighting for...

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blizzardstarx · 2 days ago

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Blizzardstar’s Storm - Chapter 1

AO3 Link Table of Contents

No warnings

The camp bustled with movement, pawsteps quietly thudding against the ground outside. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the bramble thicket as the three kits slept. Blizzardkit immediately noticed the loss of warmth, opening his eyes to see his mother had left. Disappointment prickled at his pelt as he sighed, looking out of the nursery entrance, seeing it was sunhigh already. The gray and white tabby spotted his mother, Whitefur, organizing hunting patrols in the clearing, one consisting of a black and white she-cat, a golden tabby tom, and a tortoiseshell she-cat. She’s never here in the nursery, Blizzardkit grumbled, flattening his ears, pawing at the moss beneath his claws. He glanced down at his littermates who were curled up beside him, his whiskers twitching in amusement at Spiderkit’s soft snores, his troubles quickly forgotten.

“Wake up, sleepyheads,” Blizzardkit mewed, nudging his littermates with his paw.

Splashkit began to rouse, her mouth opening wide as she yawned, lifting her head. Their brother, however, groaned, rolling onto his belly. “Can’t we sleep for just a few more moments?” He mewed.

“I thought you were going to be the greatest warrior in StormClan?” Splashkit teased, rising to her paws and prodding him as well.

“Yeah, well, warriors need their sleep.”

“Maybe we should sneak some mouse bile from the medicine den and stick it under his muzzle next time,” Blizzardkit suggested, a smirk spreading on his face. He knew from visiting the elders that the liquid was useful in removing ticks, but its foul stench could startle any cat. Mousetail complains about it all the time, Blizzardkit smiled to himself as he thought about the old, scraggly brown tom, and how the medicine cat apprentice, Bluepaw, would remind Mousetail of the pain caused by the parasites, and how much it could worsen if he didn’t pull them out. He shuddered as he recalled the apprentice’s warning of how the wound could get infected.

Blizzardkit’s thoughts were broken by a yelp of “No!” from Spiderkit, who immediately jumped to his paws as his littermates giggled.

“Come on, let’s go outside!” Splashkit squeaked, bounding out of the den.

“Wait for us!” Blizzardkit mewed, chasing after his sister with Spiderkit on his tail. As he caught up to Splashkit, he crouched, wriggling his hindquarters and leaping off the ground, landing squarely onto the silver and white kit. She yelped as they tumbled across the clearing, Blizzardkit hearing their brother’s snickers behind them as they collided into something. He looked up to see an amused, gray tabby tom, his tail held high, as Blizzardkit was still pinning Splashkit down with his paws.

It’s Lightningstar! Blizzardkit thought, staring up at his father. Spiderkit bounded up next to them, and Splashkit rolled out from under Blizzardkit.

“That was a nice leap, Blizzardkit,” Lightningstar commented, amusement shining in his eyes. “You’ll all become fine warriors one day.”

Blizzardkit ducked his head in embarrassment, giving his chest fur a few licks, but also feeling a surge of pride running through his pelt.

“Could you give us a badger ride?” Spiderkit mewed, his wide, eager eyes gazing imploringly up at their father.

“Yeah, pleeeease?” Splashkit piped up.

“I don’t see why not,” Lightningstar meows, giving them a soft smile. He crouched, his belly pressed to the ground as he waited for them to get on. The three kits climbed onto his back, and he slowly stood up, careful not to make any sudden movements.

“Ready?” Lightningstar asked.

The three kits voiced their agreement, and their father padded around the camp, lumbering around like a badger. Suddenly, a black tom burst through the entrance, with one ear bleeding and scratches on his pelt.

“Lightningstar!” He yowled, rushing over to the gray tabby, his breath coming quick and short. The tom looked as if he had been struck by lightning, his fur on end and his blue eyes wide.

“Ravenflight? What happened?” Lightningstar asked, letting his kits off his back as the StormClan medicine cat, Leafpelt, padded over, looking over the black tom’s injuries.

“There’s a group of rogues on our territory, near the Twolegplace. They caught me off guard and attacked me,” Ravenflight meowed, as he followed Leafpelt to the medicine den, explaining to Lightningstar, who was on his tail.

Blizzardkit watched them go, his littermates beside him. I wonder if he’s going to be okay. Fawnleap must be worried. He’d seen Ravenflight visit the nursery a few times to talk to her, and assumed that they were mates. He glanced around the clearing, spotting the brown and white queen who was staring at the medicine den anxiously. Blizzardkit followed her gaze, hearing faint murmurs from his clanmates around him as he wondered when his father would come out again. The silence between them was broken with Splashkit’s mew, taking their minds off of what had just happened.

“We should go get something to eat,” she says, nudging both her littermates. Spiderkit nodded, following after her, and Blizzardkit’s gaze lingered on the medicine den before agreeing, feeling a pang of hunger hit him as he padded over to the fresh-kill pile. Splashkit grabbed a mouse for the three of them to share, dropping it down at their paws. They took turns taking bites out of the mouse, and Blizzardkit relished in the savory taste, closing his eyes. He licked his chops, feeling satisfied as the last bits of mice were swallowed down.

“I can’t wait for us to become apprentices,” Blizzardkit says, excitement sparkling in his eyes. He wondered who his mentor would be, and feared that it would be someone mean and strict. Lightningstar wouldn’t give me a mentor like that. He tried to reassure himself, but the thought still lingered at the back of his head, gnawing at him. What if they were secretly mean?

“But we have to wait three moons,” Splashkit sighed, prodding at the now bare mouse.

“That’s so looong though, I want to learn all the battle moves and become the greatest warrior StormClan has ever seen!” Spiderkit yipped, flexing his claws.

“Yeah, we know, you’re always talking about it,” Blizzardkit teased, nudging him.

“I think I’d rather hunt than fight,” Splashkit mewed wistfully. “Fighting the other clans seems so scary.”

“Not as scary as us! We’re the strongest clan!” Spiderkit squeaked. He turned to his brother, asking, “What would you want to be, Blizzardkit?”

Blizzardkit pondered the question for a bit, tilting his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Maybe you’ll become a medicine cat,” Spiderkit mewed. “Remember that one time you said you saw a leaf on a branch that wouldn’t fall when it was really windy?”

“I think that was just a leaf, Spiderkit,” Splashkit rolled her eyes, smiling.

“A weird leaf.”

“Yeah, and hedgehogs fly.”

“Maybe I’ll become leader and boss you around,” Blizzardkit’s half-hearted mew interrupted them, pausing before he gave more thought into the question. “It seems like a lot of responsibility though. Lightningstar is always so busy.” A pang of sadness hit him as he spoke the last part, remembering back to his mother’s apology. Your father and I have to do our duties. He wondered, if he really became leader and had kits, would he be busy too? Don’t be mouse-brained, Blizzardkit thought as he shook out his pelt, trying to get rid of his thoughts, seeing his littermates glancing at him with a look of worry. They do play with us sometimes, and that’s better than nothing. They care about and love us. His gaze swept around the camp, noticing a silver tabby and a white and ginger tabby sharing a squirrel, a lean, lithe black tom speaking in a hushed tone to a big, gray tom under the shadows of the trees overhead, a black and white she-cat sharing tongues with a tortoiseshell she-cat, and his other clanmates gone on hunting patrols. “I’d have to be in charge of all these cats,” he finally added, letting out a long sigh.

“Yeah, imagine having to do all that,” Splashkit mewed, staring off into the distance, at the large, jagged boulder at the back of the camp called Skyrock. Lightningstar would leap to the top of the rock and call clan meetings from it, but lately, there hasn’t been any news to share, other than the rogues that had attacked Ravenflight earlier. Peace was amongst the clans. Silence fell upon them as they were lost in their own thoughts, before being broken by Spiderkit.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you guys! I found a secret entrance in the camp a few days ago,” his eyes lit up with enthusiasm, getting their attention.

“We shouldn’t go outside the camp though,” Splashkit mewed. “It’s dangerous.”

“Yeah, those rogues that attacked Ravenflight could– could eat us! Or what if a fox attacks us?” Blizzardkit’s eyes were round with worry as anxiety prickled at him. “Lightingstar and Whitefur would have our pelts.”

“It’ll only be for a few minutes. Besides, don’t you want to see what’s outside the camp instead of being cooped up all day?” Spiderkit says, swishing his tail excitedly.

Blizzardkit still felt worry worming into him as he shifted on his paws restlessly, but a part of him admitted to himself that he did in fact want to see what was outside the StormClan camp. He glanced at his sister who shot Spiderkit a look before sighing. “Fine, but if we get in trouble, we’re blaming you.”

The gray tom grinned, and with a flick of his tail, signaled for them to follow. Splashkit and Blizzardkit did as told, slinking after him across the camp, Blizzardkit checking over his shoulder once in a while, scared that someone would catch them. They followed him into a small opening in the thicket near the apprentice den, leaves rustling around them as they slid through the undergrowth. Luckily, no one seemed to notice the trio of kits disappearing from camp, and Blizzardkit let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

A light breeze greeted them as they stared out into the forest, dancing in between the trees and brushing against their fur. Blizzardkit felt the soft blades of grass tickle his paw pads, raising his head to taste the air, scents wafting and mingling together, flooding his mouth and overwhelming his senses. Leaves rustled around him and he could sense tiny heartbeats in the shrubbery beating steadily. He swept his gaze around quickly, taking in the contrast between the StormClan camp, situated on top of a small hill, and the forest surrounding it. To their left was a clearing where the forest opened up, fallen logs and small rocks decorating the area. He turned his attention to the oak trees in front of them, his gaze sweeping over the woods before his interest was caught on one particular tree; a gnarly tree that had parts of its bark stripped off and blackened, a crack splitting it open down the middle, stopping near the middle of the trunk. A gasp escaped him as he stared at it in awe, nudging his littermates to get their attention.

“Look!” Blizzardkit tilted his head, angling his ears towards the direction of the tree. His littermates turned to follow his gaze, both gasping in wonder as well.

“I wonder what happened for it to become like that,” Splashkit mewed, her eyes shining bright with curiosity.

“Come on, let’s take a closer look!” Spiderkit squeaked.

“Oh, no you won’t,” a voice came from behind them, as the kits spun around in alarm, looking up to see Whitefur fixing them with a disapproving and worried look.

They froze, knowing they were in trouble now.

“You shouldn’t go outside of the camp,” their mother scolded, picking Spiderkit up by the scruff—to his squeals of protest—and nudging the two other kits back inside. “Hawks fly around looking for kits to eat. And I’m not going to let that happen to my kits.”

Her voice softened as she sighed, meowing, “Come on, let’s get you all back inside where it’s safe.” She whisked them away, leading them back through the secret entrance. Blizzardkit glanced back one last time, staring longingly out into the woods, wondering what was beyond the forest. A new spark of interest had ignited in him. But for now, he knew their mother was angry at them for breaking the rules, putting themselves in danger and sneaking out of camp.

@castiels-destiny

#for some reason i remember in old blizzardstar’s storm there was a scene where they asked lightningstar for a badger ride and he said he wa #too busy? so i was going to say ‘oh they finally got that after three years’ but nope that scene doesnt exist???#i swear it happened wtf #and also i was going to say that that didnt make any sense to me as he wasnt busy at the time #blizz’s writing #StormStoneSunAU #Blizzardstar’s Storm #Blizzardstar!!!#warriors #warrior cats #warriors au #warrior cats au #warriors oc #warrior cats oc #warriors fanfic #warrior cats fanfic

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the-night-lily · 1 year ago

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She looked like an ember, flared into life by the sunhigh light. Fire alone would save the clan.

Just for a moment for me, just imagine, Princess takes Rusty's place in his story

Just imagine, the newly named Emberpaw having just been freed of her collar

Just for a moment, imagine for me.

#warrior cats #warrior cats au #princess warrior cats #into the wild #redraw #digital art #digital painting #cat #wynn creates

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in-memoriam-tgwk · 11 months ago

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The Behemoth’s scream nearly pierces Mottledwhisker’s ears as it takes its leave, as slow as always to start moving. He can see Shimmerfeather and Emma cower in response on either side of him, but he stopped fearing the monstrous creature long ago. He stands tall and watches its long segmented body slither away down its wood and metal trail, roaring twice more before the tail fully disappears into the trees.

“I dunno how you stand it,” Shimmerfeather whines, shaking her head vigorously. “Them’s loud enough to make a deaf hare go mad.” She scratches her ear with her hind leg.

Emma hums her agreement, a rare frown forming on her face. “I also do not like the Behemoth. Are you certain they do not stray from their paths, Mottledwhisker? The smaller Monsters traipse through the forest with little care.”

Mottledwhisker nods. “They won’t leave the Thunderpath, I’m sure of it. I’ve never seen them hunt anywhere else. Come on, let’s get moving.”

It’s taken quite a few moons for Mottledwhisker to notice, but taking time to watch the Behemoth’s ritualistic patrolling, as well as leaning on his memory of living inside its belly, has made the Thunderpath relatively safe in terms of learning when best to cross it. Knowing when and how often it will appear has shaped the Colony’s patrols around its schedule, shifting from morning and evening patrols into sunhigh, evening, and moonhigh. In turn, he’s come to discover that while the Behemoth’s cries and blundering steps scare prey in all directions, it doesn’t take too long for the prey to wander back to their nearby burrows. It’s not a perfect system, but it’s one Mottledwhisker is aiming to perfect.

He leads the other two members of his patrol across the Thunderpath, leaping over each metal beam to avoid the lingering heat, trotting across loose gravel and rock before meeting the piney forest floor on the other side. Emma appears just after, with Shimmerfeather bringing up the rear.

“I been meanin’ to ask ya,” the oddly-colored molly calls, picking up extra steps to match Mottledwhisker’s in stride, “how come ya know so much ‘bout them creatures? I been ‘round seasons afore yer speckled face was whinin’ for yer mama’s milk, and I never even saw one when I’s livin’ in the Fallow Land.”

Mottledwhisker smiles, steering them around a fallen log before replying, “Well, it’s like how you know about the strange Monsters your old Twolegs use to tear up the dirt. I used to live in one, when I was a kit.”

Shimmerfeather snorts, her whiskers twitching in amusement. “No way ya did!” she says. “You’d be deader than dead sittin’ in the belly of one of them beasts!”

“He tells the truth,” Emma offers, appearing on Mottledwhisker’s other side. Her puffy tail arches over her back and swipes across his neck, sending an involuntary twitch down his spine. “I have met cats with a similar strip of leather bound around their throats. They hunt the mice that stow away within its body.”

Mottledwhisker whips his head around at her in shock. “You’ve met other cats like me? Why haven’t you said so before?”

Emma tilts her head to one side. “You have not asked,” she says simply.

Frustratingly, she’s not exactly wrong. He’ll have to ask her more about that when they return to camp.

“You serious then?” Shimmerfeather asks, her eyes as wide as two azure full moons. “Ya used to live in a Behemoth?”

The trees grow a little sparse up ahead, so Mottledwhisker turns where he knows will lead to their target. “I did, yeah. Like Emma says, I filled my belly on mice and other prey that would sneak on with the Twolegs that rode inside. If I did a good enough job, sometimes the Boss would give me special things like cream or scraps from their meals.”

“Ugh, that’s somethin’ I miss,” the molly moans, her ears drooping. “The Farmer used to leave the cow’s cream in a tin for all us mousers to drink just afore bed… Ya ever had cow’s cream, Emma? ‘S a magical thing.”

Emma chuckles softly, the sound nearly swallowed up by their steps. “I have not, actually. Most Twoleg foods do not smell appealing to me… What is it like?”

As Shimmerfeather goes on to excitedly explain the wonders of fresh cow’s cream, Mottledwhisker sets his attention on the small clearing coming into view ahead. It’s a space left in disarray by the Twolegs and the growling Monsters they carried around, with tree litter and various alien objects lying among multiple felled trees, now drying stumps in Greenleaf heat. He had wanted to make sure they were no longer camping here before investigating, and it seems to be as untouched as it was days prior. He lifts his tail over his back, and Shimmerfeather’s musings fall silent.

“Be careful here,” he reminds them, glancing back to make sure both cats are watching him. “The Monsters these Twolegs trained are incredibly dangerous. Keep your ears trained for any unusual noises.”

Both cats nod, and he drops his tail.

Silently, Mottledwhisker slinks out from the tree line, his ears on a constant swivel as he surveys the clearing. He steps carefully over broken tree branches, discarded pine boughs, shattered glass and shiny metal tins, long tendrils not too dissimilar to what Ferretpaw and Sablepaw wear on their bark sleds… He sniffs the air and the ground for any scents still hanging around, and his shoulders relax when he finds nothing fresher than he expects. He maneuvers around the space with less tension after that.

“Ya weren’t kiddin’,” Shimmerfeather calls, standing on top of a larger stump across the clearing. “There’s nothin’ left of these trees here. How hungry can a little critter like that be?”

“It wasn’t just one,” Mottledwhisker says. He frowns at the sheer amount of stumps in the vicinity; too many to count just from where he sits. “The Twolegs had entire packs of them chewing at their trunks. The large Monsters carried the rest of the trees away when they fell.”

Emma paws at something resembling a common Twoleg pelt, lifting it up to peek underneath before dropping it. “I do not like it here,” she says. “There is no food here, nor herb. I cannot see anything of use.”

In addition, the regular chirps and trills of the forest waking at sundown are far more distant from where they stand than before. It’s strange to hear near silence in a place that is always teeming with life. Admittedly, Mottledwhisker has never felt further from Fate’s blessings than in a place like this. Not since his arrival.

“Well,” he says eventually, squaring his shoulders, “we can safely assume the Twolegs won’t be coming here, considering how old the scents are. I think telling Glowstar—“ he pauses, catching himself momentarily. “I think telling Amberfuzz is a must. We should make sure other patrols check at least once a day, just to be certain they haven’t returned under our noses. Let’s continue on.”

Leaving the abandoned camp behind, the patrol continues on towards the southern-most border the Colony lays claim to, where it butts up along the Fallow Lands Shimmerfeather hails from. Mottledwhisker lets Shimmerfeather take the lead, and falls back to walk a few paces behind with Emma.

“How long did Glowstar say he would be gone for?” he asks.

Emma side eyes him. If she’s concerned, her face betrays nothing. “He did not say an exact amount of time, although I imagine he should arrive any day.”

“Did he tell you where he was going, or why? It’s strange for him to just up and leave like that. Even Oaktrail seemed confused about it.”

Emma trains her eyes ahead, but her ears remain trained on Mottledwhisker. “This is something you should ask Glowstar when he returns,” she says. “It is not my place to say.”

“Alright… I will always trust your judgement, Emma. I…” He thinks over his words for a moment. “I’m just worried about him is all. He hasn’t been the same since… You know. We can all tell.”

Emma hums thoughtfully. “Yes, that is true. Grief is a powerful thing; it warps the mind and scars the heart terribly, and it does so differently in everyone.” She looks back at Mottledwhisker, and her warm smile appears with ease. “Do not fret Mottledwhisker; he will soon learn to work with those scars instead of against. His heart simply carries more scars than he admits to.”

Not an entirely satisfying answer but it’s enough to end his prodding. He recovers the lead from Shimmerfeather, and they finish their patrol with little issue.

#tgwk lore #clangen #clangen art #warrior cats

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