#sunhigh

[bonefall]

while we’re talking about the gods and how fucked up they are, does sol have a “canon” appearance while he’s not possessing anyone / taking a specific form ie the fish thing?

I'm not sure if any of them have a TRUE form, as in, a specific body they have when they aren't in a vessel. It's like they have an "energy" and it can express itself in many ways.

Like how Sharptooth/One Eye has cycled through the forms of a bear, a boar, a man, a cave lion. He is an icon of war, his constant is that he invokes war.

So I'm thinking that Sol invokes fish, SPECIFICALLY he tends to invoke a salmon! He may have a few other icons associated with Autumn and change. Like a dormouse before torpor, a deer rapidly cycling through velvet, a moth.

Also also these are examples of gods who have "Broken Orbit." I'm calling it that until I have a better term for it, but what that means is that they are spirits who have become so ancient and powerful, they can live independently of the dead religions that formed them.

This could very well happen to StarClan Spirits one day, but a spirit had a few options for how its fate can progress;

Spirit forms -> joins religion -> is not worshipped/invoked/eventually forgotten -> fades peacefully

Spirit forms -> has no religion to join -> fades peacefully (Those two are the most common. That's normal, no one is exactly sure what happens after one fades, but it isn't painful. It's like falling asleep. Gods and monsters happen when THIS happens;)

Spirit forms -> joins religion -> is worshipped -> gains power -> RELIGION DIES

THIS happened to SkyClan and their rats. NONE of the spirits of ancient SkyClan where old and powerful enough yet to truly "Break Orbit," but they weren't so weak that they all died. They became a sort of supernatural monster; a collective association of angry rats.

Creating Skypelt saved them, but eventually they would have been dealt with and whittled away over time.

One Eye, Sol, Rock, and Midnight were from ancient religions that died, and they "broke orbit." They were strong enough to exist on their own. They're good examples of the "power ceiling" here; this is as strong as a god can get. It took several hundred years of continuous worship to make them.

There's probably more out there in the world, but there's only these 4 in this geographic region.

[genderqueertree]

i think snowfur is one of those girls that you think is normal but she's currently thinking about the most violent things the cat mind can imagine

[loonarmuunar]

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-LEAF, 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!!!!!)

[cheryxshug]

yes absolutely

do you guys think noon would be a valid warrior cats prefix/suffix

[forestclan-clangen]

MOON 8 (Part 2)

<< FIRST | < PREVIOUS |

Hopechase notices that Morningpaw was acting off ever since Tree was invited back to camp. She flags down Barleywave, her mentor. After a lot of pestering, Barleywave agrees to try and talk to her. Hopechase appreciates his effort.

(Hopechase, warrior, female, 90 moons) (Barleywave, warrior, male, 37 moons) (Morningpaw, apprentice, female, 10 moons)

Morningpaw confesses to Barleywave that she's scared of living in the Woods, she's scared of being sacrificed and doesn't want to feed them. Barleywave doesn't know what to say. Desperate, he thinks, "What would Hopechase do?" He gets into a play bow and starts poking and prodding until Morningpaw starts laugh-sobbing, swatting back at her mentor until her pain dulls, becoming bittersweet.

(Barleywave, warrior, male, 37 moons) (Morningpaw, apprentice, female, 10 moons)

---

Barleywave was way out of his depth.

StarClan, why was Hopechase good at bullying you into being a better cat? He was awful. This was awful. He wasn't good with feelings, and even less with being vulnerable about them. He either laughed away his suffering or buried it down in a dirtplace never to be spoken of again. Barleywave, your apprentice is feeling down, Barleywave, go talk to your apprentice, be there for them! Yes. Easy. Definitely, perfectly easy and normal. He was an adult. Feelings were normal. He could talk...about....

Nope, still nauseous.

Barleywave took a deep breath as he approached the entrance to the apprentice's den. He stopped and sat down, briefly taking a moment to admire the outside of it. Talonpaw and Morningpaw had grown attached to the frames they made for the Plentiful Gathering, hanging them outside to show off their work. He remembered how proud they were. They were happy.

And now, Morningpaw wasn't. Hadn't been for a while. And it was his responsibility to fix it.

Come on, Barley. It's just a training patrol. You're just bringing Morningpaw out of camp and hoping to talk. It's not hard, he mentally berated himself. If only it were that easy.

He took a deep breath. If he kept overthinking it, he'd be waiting at the den entrance forever. Forcing his paws forward, he ducked his head inside.

"Hey, Morningpaw?" He asked.

A light brown and white bundle at the back of the den lifted its head up suddenly. "Yeah?"

"Uh, hi. Would you - actually wait, first of all, good morning," Barleywave stumbled on his words. Well, at least he caught himself.

"...But it's sunhigh?" Morningpaw meowed.

Mouse dung.

"Er - right. Apologies. But uh, I was wondering if you'd like to join me for a spot of training? Could exercise those reflexes?" He said with a grin.

Morningpaw didn't seem enthused, but she dragged herself out from her bedding and stretched briefly. "Okay."

Barleywave gestured out the door, allowing Morningpaw to pad out first before following behind her. He noticed his apprentice's sluggish movement and drooping tail. His ears flattened briefly with concern before perking up again. "Alrighty, let's head out. Hey Redstar!" Barleywave called out across camp.

Redstar was having a conversation with Windfur. She seemed to be in a tense mood as she turned to look at Barleywave. Her blue eyes were glazed with boiling anger.

Dear StarClan, was everyone having the jitters this moon?

"I'm taking Morningpaw out training at the clearing!"

Redstar nodded and dismissed him with a wave of her tail before resuming her strained conversation with Windfur. Barleywave was glad that Redstar wasn't talking to him right now. He beckoned Morningpaw to follow him, and his apprentice complied without protest.

The forest had grown colder, and the trees had been stripped bare of their colorful leaves by this point in the season. It was always a dull time between leaf-fall and leafbare - too warm for rain to turn to snow, but too cold to enjoy much of anything. Barleywave's dark grey fur bristled out under the wind. 

"Brr," he chattered as he shook himself out. "Pretty cold out, huh?"

Morningpaw didn't respond. Barleywave stopped and turned his head, only to feel his apprentice bump into him.

"Oof - sorry!" Morningpaw squeaked as she scrambled backwards. Her amber eyes were nailed to her paws, and she repeated more quietly, "I'm sorry."

"Hey, no worries." Barleywave felt his chest tighten. Morningpaw was always a bit of a jumpy cat, but he realized that Hopechase was right - she was acting off. By this point, Morningpaw would've launched herself into an endless string of apologies, meeting his gaze with wide, pleading eyes. The fact that she refused to even look at him made him nervous.

Barleywave stopped for a second, lifting his tail to let her know. Morningpaw sat down wordlessly.

The warrior glanced around him, his hazel eyes wide with surprise. Wait, was he doing this now? Well, they weren't at the clearing, but they were far enough from camp. No suspicious plants or bushes, he couldn't smell anything. He guessed this was fine?

Barleywave sat down and faced his apprentice with a nervous expression. How…okay, how was he going to break this subject? How does one ask if someone's doing okay without pressing them? Did - no, SHOULD he press her? He was her mentor. Did he phrase it like a leader? Morningpaw, you must tell me - no, no, that was too pushy. She didn't have to. Yo, Morningpaw, I think - no, wait, who was he? Talonpaw? Well, maybe if -

Morningpaw had torn her gaze from the ground to glance up at her mentor. "...Barleywave?" 

"You good?" he blurted.

Fox-dung.

Silence fell on them like an eagle dropping dead into camp. Barleywave held his breath as he waited for Morningpaw's answer, and the longer she waited, the more anxious he became.

Morningpaw's amber eyes finally wavered with an unknown feeling. "You…you don't have to ask. It's okay."

"What?" he blurted. The air released from his chest and was replaced with jumbled words. "No, no, I'm - come on Morningpaw, I'm your mentor, I'm just asking if you're good. Cause, yannow, I stopped really suddenly and all, and you seemed rather down - not that I'm assuming anything, but, you know, just in case."

"I'm fine. Really."

Barleywave blinked, feeling like a rock hit his gut. He stayed quiet for a moment. "...Are you sure?" Barleywave surprised himself with how firmly he said this. But, he stood by it. It was fine if Morningpaw didn't want to talk to him - he was no good with feelings, everyone knew that after…

His mind muddled the image of a grey and white kit together, before blowing it away.

But…despite that, he wouldn't be a good mentor if he didn't try. He was no good talking about feelings, but maybe his apprentice just needed company, or a listening ear, or something else to focus on. He could spare ten minutes to be the bigger cat, for once in his dumb life.

Morningpaw met his mentor's eyes, and something changed. Maybe she saw something in Barleywave's eyes, maybe she was surprised by his honesty or maybe it was the last straw. But her amber eyes glazed over and flooded with fear and grief. Her lips curled into a fearful snarl as she lay on the floor, covering her eyes with her paws.

"I'm scared!" she wailed. "I'm scared of the woods! I'm scared of the Woodcrawlers, and the tendrils, and - and the Fake Twolegs, and I feel like no one else feels like I do!" Morningpaw's claws unsheathed into her forehead as she continued. "I don't want to die! I don't want to feed the woods! Everyone says that won't happen because Redstar is here, but what about Warblerkit? What about Olive's third kit? What about every single Clan that used to be around the lake?!"

Barleywave froze. His hazel eyes wavered as he stared at her.

"I thought - I thought with Tree telling me there's other territories, that we could leave! We didn't have to live in the woods! We could go somewhere else - where there weren't any Woodcrawlers, and we - and I wouldn't need to be scared anymore, but they told me that wasn't true! They're everywhere! I can't hide, and no one can, and we're all going to die! It doesn't matter if - if I become a kittypet, Woodcrawlers go after Twolegs too! It doesn't matter! There's no hope! I'm - I'm going to die, we're all - " Morningpaw choked back and let out a long, pained caterwaul.

Barleywave stared at his apprentice with wide eyes.

Oh. That was - yeah, that was bad. That was a lot to handle. He was woefully unequipped to deal with existential doom. In fact, he spent the majority of his life not thinking about it, otherwise he would have spiraled into despair. Well, fox dung, maybe that's why he was bad at feelings. But - what could he even say? Nothing he said could fix this. Because she was right. The Woodcrawlers were terrifying. Fake Beings were terrifying. And tendrils -

His face turned hot with repressed emotions. They rippled at the surface with wide open jaws.

Normally, he'd shove a rock in those jaws and kick them down to hunt later, but maybe, just this once, he could watch them. Not act. Just…watch. Morningpaw was scared of those jaws too. So, maybe…

Barleywave closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't. He placed his tail gently on his apprentice's shoulder -

He should've opened his eyes before doing that. His tail landed on her ear.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he shifted to her shoulder. But Morningpaw…laughed. It was an exasperated and humorless laugh. One that could only be made in dismay. But still. He sat there quietly, letting her cry her heart out for as long as she needed. He kept trying to find something to say, but he never did. He eventually just shifted beside her, and purred sympathetically.

Sunhigh passed into the early afternoon before Morningpaw sat up, her eyes dulled with pain and her face ragged with marks of her own paws. Barleywave brought his purr to a slow stop, tucking his tail back around his paws.

They remained silent for a while, their environment filled with the sound of wind and the occasional shuffling in the undergrowth. Barleywave had time to think, and despite it all, he had found nothing to say. Finally, after being frustrated for so long, he thought - what would Hopechase do? If she had nothing to say, what would she do to comfort a young cat?

He slowly raised his paw and prodded at her shoulder.

Morningpaw peered at him from the corner of her tired eyes.

He poked her again. The tip of Morningpaw's tail tapped the ground. Barleywave blinked slowly and padded her again.

"Don't." Morningpaw hissed weakly. Barleywave did what she asked and stopped, his paw still half-raised.

The two cats stared at each other, until Morningpaw's eyes narrowed and she let out a defeated laugh. "You look stupid."

In response, Barleywave smirked and batted his paw at her shoulder again.

"Quit it!" Morningpaw whined. She batted back at him half-heartedly.

"Oowww, oof! I've been had! Defeated!" Barleywave yelled dramatically as he flopped to the floor, his eyes flickering.

"You're not taking me seriously!"

"But I am! And yeah, it sucks." Barleywave tried to squish her face between his paws, and Morningpaw pouted as she pulled back and swiped at his face.

"It doesn't just suck, Barleywave. It's over. I'm just going to be scared forever, and - mphff!" Morningpaw ended up with her mentor's paw in her mouth, somehow. She growled and spit it out before tackling him. "Stop it!"

Barleywave had an idea.

He started poking, prodding and play fighting with his apprentice - no training, no serious skill, just pretending like she was a kit in the nursery and goading her into fighting him. Despite her verbal protests, she never ran or distanced herself from him. She always fought back. After an hour of bouncing off trees, rolling into pinecones and Morningpaw yowling at him to get back here so she could bite his stupid fur off, Barleywave watched his apprentice's expression go from despairing to bittersweet. When Morningpaw finally knocked him off his feet one last time, Barleywave heard her yowl with pyrrhic triumph.

"Stay down!"

"Grraah, Morningpaw has bested her mentor! How could this happen?"

Barleywave heard Morningpaw force a laugh. That was good enough for him. He shuffled back onto his feet and started combing through the stray pines stuck in his fur.

"Sorry. Sorry," Morningpaw finally mumbled, looking at him with guilty eyes. Barleywave purred. That was the Morningpaw he knew. He stopped, then met the young cat's gaze.

"Look, Morningpaw. You're right. I didn't have to ask, and honestly, I'm not good at the whole 'feelings' stuff. But, that's 'cause I'm scared too."

Morningpaw gave him a bewildered stare.

"Hey, don't gimme that. I'm serious. I was never good with hiding my fears. So I just kicked it down the road instead. Left it as a problem for future me." Barleywave felt himself staring at the jaws on the surface of the water. His instinct to kick a rock at it was strong - but he couldn't. This time, he had an apprentice to teach beside him. So, he taught. He could do that. He could teach. "But, it's no good to run from them. I ended up running from…lots of other feelings. If I couldn't deal with it, then I avoided it. Avoided sadness. Grief. It, uh. It sucked." His throat tightened.

"You don't have to talk about it," Morningpaw mewed hesitantly.

"Nope. But I will." Man. He really, really wanted to shove a rock in that stupid ass jaw rippling over the water. What was it, a bass? A pike? Could it mind its own business? Was he comparing his emotions to fish? Yep. Whatever it took for him to deal with it.

After a while longer, he sighed and let the feelings pass through his back. "I get it. World's a scary place. It's hard to feel like there's a chance for something better. I grew up thinking that nothing mattered. But, that's why I followed Redstar. 'Cause maybe, if we really fought hard instead of being scared, things could be different."

Morningpaw's ear twitched. She waited for him to continue.

"I won't go into too much detail, but the leader before Redstar was…scared of a lot of things. Enough to prioritize it over caring for the rest of the Clan. We didn't want to live like that anymore and…well, here we are now." Barleywave took a moment to collect himself again. "...What I'm saying is, you don't have to stop being afraid, but you do have to do stuff while you're scared sometimes. It's way easier said than done, trust me. I mean, look at me. I'm still trying to figure out how to do that. I've failed at doing that. I failed to be better for…for Warblerkit."

Morningpaw seemed surprised to hear that name, then sad. Barleywave continued quickly. "But, it starts somewhere, right? I mean, you managed to put some of your fear down for long enough to best me in single combat."

Morningpaw pouted and her tail twitched. "I wasn't fighting you for real."

"But we had fun, right?" Barleywave asked. Morningpaw hid behind her whiskers and started grooming her chest fur. Barleywave suppressed a mrrow of amusement, then continued.

"I can't…really tell you how to be brave or stay calm, or whatever. I don't have the solution to that. I think Windfur or…heck, maybe Olive might be able to help more. But if you need a distraction, I got plenty of those. If you need to feel like you're running from something, we can go for a sprint and get that out of your system. It doesn't make you brave, but it does make you feel less cornered."

Morningpaw remained quiet. The air was tense and for a moment, Barleywave wondered if he said the wrong thing. But then, Morningpaw said tersely, "I need to run."

"What, like right now?"

"Please."

"Can do," Barleywave stood up and stretched his legs. His hazel eyes flickered. "Sprint to the border and back to camp as fast as you can. Let's not stray too far from each other."

And so, Morningpaw ran, and Barleywave followed.

He thought about Hopechase, and for a brief moment, he was glad she pushed him into doing something. It was like pulling his teeth out, but he hoped Morningpaw felt a little better. Or at least knew who to go to next. That's all he could ask for.

---

Barleywave overcame a tough challenge for him, and is really excited to tell Hopechase about it. Hopechase congratulates him and bats his ear affectionately.

(Barleywave, warrior, male, 37 moons) (Hopechase, warrior, female, 90 moons)

Talonpaw has a nice conversation with Olive. Olive reassures him about something that was bothering him.

(Talonpaw, apprentice, male, 12 moons) (Olive, mediator, female, 64 moons)

Olive had recovered from giving birth, and has relaxed a bit. She recognizes the insight and personalities her two kits have, and despite her best efforts, a creeping sense of hope fills her. She plays mossball gently with Branchkit and Perchkit, who are happy and exciteable. Olive wishes she could be more optimistic like her kits are. It's hard...but she'll try her best.

(Olive, mediator, female, 64 moons) (Branchkit, kitten, female, 3 moons) (Perchkit, kitten, female, 3 moons)

<PREVIOUS | NEXT >

[bonebabbles]

TEQ: 15

Moonpaw is confronted by Jayfeather about if she really wants to be a medcat or not. The conversation segways to him explaining who Ashfur was and what he did. Less aggressively than Alderheart, he restates that it would be VERY bad if that sounded familiar.

I expect Jayfeather to be horrible with kids, though, to be fair. Naturally, this frightens Moonpaw and she lies to stay out of trouble.

Then she goes to the Moonpool to talk to her other half again. It assures her it's real by sharing a "prophecy," and then making that prophecy come true. I wish they weren't trying to make The Voice so sinister, this would be kind of adorable if it was like;

"Heck yeah I'm a StarClan cat!! I can give you a prophecy!!! tomorrow at sunhigh there will be a cool bug in your nest"

"ugh. that doesn't sound anything like a prophecy, it's not even worded like a riddle"

"Um, uh, wait I can give you a different one! Tomorrow the sun will go missing, and you'll find it in a hollow tree!"

"big if true."

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 97

Carnationspeckle and Wildclaw fish together and work through their grief over Downstar.

[Image ID: Carnationspeckle and Wildclaw sit along the water, with - CONDITION: GRIEVING underneath them both. Carnationspeckle says, "It's a new era for us."]

(Carnationspeckle: 99, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Wildclaw: 89, female, deputy, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

Yarrowclaw heals from her mangled leg with a small scar. As she returns to patrols, however, Estherfern and Gingerpaw ask to speak to her about a vision.

[Image ID: Gingerpaw brings Yarrowclaw to Estherfern, saying, "I brought her, just like you asked." Yarrowclaw now has a scar along her back ankle, with - CONDITION: MANGLED LEG written under her. Under Estherfern, it says + GUIDANCE FROM STARCLAN: THE SHIP OF YARROW (VISION)]

---

If Yarrowclaw wanted to avoid hallucinating her long dead brother and convincing herself she was StarClan's invulnerable warrior, she needed a routine.

Sandhollow helped her craft the routine shortly after the horse path incident. A patrol at sunhigh and sunset every day, without fail. A hearty serving at each meal. A strict sleep schedule. Talks with Sandhollow or another mediator every half moon, just to check in. All of those little details added up to maintain balance over Yarrowclaw's mind. Yet for moons, Yarrowclaw had been unable to follow that routine, because LynxClan decided to be mouse-brains and kill Downstar over a bunch of crabs.

Getting Honeybuzz's approval to go back on patrol was one of the best things to happen in Yarrowclaw's life. Sure, the wound across her back ankle scarred, a permanent reminder of how a small cut on the right spot could kill a warrior. But now Yarrowclaw could act on the burning in her blood and help her Clan. She could also get away from her brother's flirting in the medicine den. Good for Anchovystrike, finally winning Weevilsight over, but bleh, did they have to make comments like that in front of Yarrowclaw?

As a blistering sunhigh crawled over RippleClan, Yarrowclaw led a hunting patrol through the bramble-lined entrance. A basket, heavy with mice and rats, hung on Yarrowclaw's neck. The warm scent of dough mixed with the bloody fresh-kill under Yarrowclaw's muzzle and made her mouth water. She quickly placed the basket beside the fresh-kill pile and let Rapidleaf, Whiteflower, and Pearpaw (the other members of the patrol) sort their catches. Yarrowclaw jogged up to the oven, where Asterblaze and Shrewflame carefully watched as Icepaw shuffled a large flat rock out from above the fire. Flat chunks of golden bread sat on the rock, steam rising from their hard surfaces.

"When did we get flour?" Yarrowclaw asked, sniffing the hot bread as Icepaw let go of the large stick that allowed cats to slide the stone slab in and out of the oven, just for special meals like this.

"We traded some of our clams and seaweed with WheatClan," Asterblaze explained. "We're going to pour mincemeat over the bread. Stormjump and the elders get the first pieces, but then it goes to whoever asks first." Yarrowclaw eyed the glistening bread. Biting into it once the juice from the mincemeat soaked through? It would be glorious.

"This needs to cool," Shrewflame said, gently nosing a piece of bread, "but when it's done, you can take some."

"We're the ones making the bread, we should get a piece," Icepaw huffed. His tail brushed against the hot stone. He hissed and jumped back.

"We'll see, Icepaw," Shrewflame chuckled as Icepaw rapidly licked his burnt tail.

"Yarrowclaw!" Gingerpaw trotted out of the medicine den, maple seed necklace swinging across his chest. He squinted in the harsh, cloudless light.

"Gingerpaw, do you want some bread?" Icepaw asked. "Wait, it is still Gingerpaw, isn't it?" Oh, right! The half-moon meeting had been the night before.

"It is," Gingerpaw grumbled, whiskers drooping. "Estherfern says I'm 'too immature' to graduate."

"Oh, that's not true!" Shrewflame huffed. "You're just chatty! If everyone was held back for being chatty, I'd still be an apprentice." Icepaw and Asterblaze both laughed at that.

"I need Yarrowclaw," Gingerpaw sighed. "Can you come with me?" Back to the medicine den? Yarrowclaw just got out of there! Still, Gingerpaw wouldn't call for Yarrowclaw without reason. But the food…

Yarrowclaw forced herself away from the oven and joined Gingerpaw. Her pelt itched in the heat as the medicine den drew closer. Weevilsight, Honeybuzz, and Troutpool were by the cleric's oven, preparing their concoctions. Yarrowclaw's curiousity peeked over her hesitancy, but only for a moment.

Estherfern waited inside the medicine den, laid out in her nest. Her sunlit eyes studied Yarrowclaw with the same detached, all-knowing gaze Yarrowclaw grew up with. Yarrowclaw's nest was still there, still stinking of healing wounds.

"I brought her, just like you asked," Gingerpaw sighed. He stalked past Estherfern and crawled into his nest.

"You're going to participate, Gingerpaw," Estherfern huffed, spinning back and nipping Gingerpaw's foot. "This is a cleric's most important job. You can nap later." Gingerpaw grumbled unintelligibly but shuffled closer.

"What do you need from me, Estherfern?" Yarrowclaw asked, taking an awkward seat in front of the old cleric.

"I need to talk to you about something I saw at StarClan's Shrine," Estherfern explained carefully. "I believe it strongly relates to you." Now that was a dangerous thing to tell a cat like Yarrowclaw. She buried her tension deep. "When I dreamed at the Shrine last night, I received a visit from your mother. She provided me with a vision." Harvest… Yarrowclaw struggled to remember her face at times. Did her spirit visit the camp? What did she think of Yarrowclaw and her brothers?

"She showed us both the vision, technically," Gingerpaw chuckled. Estherfern smacked his muzzle with her tail.

"In this vision," Estherfern said, "I stood on a water-washed rock in the middle of the ocean. A violent storm raged around me. The waves nearly pushed me into the water. Yet as the storm grew more violent, something began to grow under my paws. A mass of vines and leaves stretched underneath me. It lifted me from the rock and above the chaos of the waves. It was a ship, just like this ship we now live in, back when the humans sent it to sea. But the ship was not made of wood. Growing between the plant matter were masses of white flowers. Yarrow flowers. The ship was built from the stems and leaves of impossibly strong yarrow. It carried me through the storm until land appeared on the horizon. Now I've grown familiar with how StarClan shares information through metaphor and symbolism. This ship of yarrow is a clear message. You were that ship, Yarrowclaw."

"No," Yarrowclaw immediately huffed. "No, no, I can't be involved in a prophecy." She hurried to her paws. Her muscles ached from restraining the storm inside.

"It's not something you have a choice about, Yarrowclaw," Estherfern sighed.

"StarClan can't pick me," Yarrowclaw snapped. "If they pick me, it will prove I'm right, and I'll get myself killed." Gingerpaw cocked his head at Yarrowclaw's odd phrasing, but Yarrowclaw barely noticed.

"Something's coming to RippleClan," Estherfern said, getting up. "You will be a sanctuary, a savior. You are destined to weather the storm, whatever it be."

"And you had to tell me that?" Yarrowclaw groaned. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"It's not really what you're going to do," Gingerpaw explained awkwardly. "It's more what we're going to do about you. We wanted to let you know that we're going to talk to Oilstar about your duties. If you're a ship in this story, then whoever is on you, or I guess near you, should be safe from whatever's coming. So—"

"I'm not staying in camp," Yarrowclaw hissed, no longer afraid to hide her widening eyes and curling lips. "I can't stay in camp."

"You aren't trapped here," Estherfern grunted with a dismissive twitch of her whiskers. "But keeping you close to as many cats as possible could save lives."

"You don't even know what's going to happen!" Yarrowclaw yowled. "I—no, I can't have this conversation." She turned out of the den.

"Where are you going?" Estherfern snapped as Gingerpaw slunk back to his nest. "We need to talk to Oilstar."

"It's none of your concern!" Yarrowclaw growled, stepping back into the sun. Curious glances passed her way as she marched to the warrior's den. Hopefully Sandhollow would be inside. She needed someone sane to talk to.

You're special. You're chosen. Of course you're chosen. You can save them. You can save them all. You'll need to train, you have to be able to fight off what's coming, but what if it's not a fox or bear or wolf, what if its nature? You should go to StarClan's Shrine, you need to know more, go right now go go go go go—

No! Yarrowclaw growled at herself as she entered the warrior's den. Half the Clan was sleeping through the hot midday, relaxed in their nests and on top of one another. Yarrowclaw jumped into her nest, even though she knew she wouldn't sleep.

She couldn't be special. For her own sake, she could not be special. She wouldn't allow it.

(Yarrowclaw: 32, female, warrior, cold, fire master)

(Asterblaze: 44, male, caretaker, thoughtful, inventor and innovator)

(Shrewflame: 21, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)

(Icepaw: 7, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Gingerpaw: 13, male, cleric apprentice, charismatic, curious about humans, moss-ball hunter)

(Estherfern: 131, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

Sandhollow wonders if he is destined for something greater as his sister gives birth to three kits.

[Image ID: Sandhollow and Yellowburst approach Stormjump and her three newborns from the distance, with Yellowburst calling, "Hurry, we have to meet them!" Under Stormjump, it says - CONDITION: PREGNANT, + CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH. The first kit looks just like Honeybuzz, and under him, it reads NEW PLAYER: BEEKIT, 0, MALE, NOISY. The next kit is white with ginger patches. Under him, it says NEW PLAYER: PATCHKIT, 0, MALE, CHARMING. The last kit is golden with a blanket of tinted white across his forehead and back. Under him, it reads NEW PLAYER: MORNINGKIT, 0, MALE, BOSSY.]

(Stormjump: 28, female, caretaker, charismatic, incredible cook)

(Beekit: 0, male, kit, noisy)

(Patchkit: 0, male, kit, charming)

(Morningkit: 0, male, kit, bossy)

(Yellowburst: 28, female, caretaker, adventurous, great mediator)

(Sandhollow: 28, male, mediator, ambitious, lore keeper)

Midnightpaw is apprenticed to Anchovystrike while Valleypaw gets to learn under Asterblaze to harness his excitement to fight. Before they head out, though, Wildclaw and Rattlepelt apologize for any neglect they may have felt in the nursery as they both fought their grief.

[Image ID: Rattlepelt and Wildclaw talk to Midnightpaw and Valleypaw, now apprentices. Under Midnightpaw, it says LEVEL UP! MIDNIGHTKIT → MIDNIGHTPAW, POLITE → OBLIVIOUS. Under Valleypaw, it says LEVEL UP! VALLEYKIT → VALLEYPAW, QUIET → STRICT. Rattlepelt says, "We just… don't want you to think we weren't utterly in love with you." Under her, it says - CONDITION: GRIEVING.]

(Midnightpaw: 6, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, always wandering)

(Valleypaw: 6, male, caretaker apprentice, strict, avid play-fighter)

(Rattlepelt: 80, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Wildclaw: 89, female, deputy, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

Icepaw and Pearpaw meet their long-lost kin at the Gathering.

[Image ID: Icepaw and Pearpaw meet Nimblestep and Quickpaw, the latter of whom is now an apprentice. Pearpaw says, "So… how do we do this?"]

---

For a few days, Icepaw wasn't sure he would make it to his first Gathering. He'd been stuck in the medicine den, his head screaming to shut out the light and noise. Shrewflame did his best to continue his lessons, giving him the same overview of herbs that mediator and caretaker apprentices were expected to learn, but he couldn't join Shrewflame on patrol. He couldn't spar with Pearpaw and Dovepaw. All he could do was think about what his mother and sister would look like as the full moon drew closer and closer.

Yet, by the grace of StarClan or whatever Celestial watched over headaches, Icepaw still made it. He still got to walk alongside his fellow apprentices near the back of the crowd as they made their way to the Leader's Stone. The full moon glistened in the hot, cloudless night. Oilstar and Wildclaw proudly led the way, each eagerly discussing how to share their goods with the other four Clans. Baskets heavy with offerings from the sea dangled off warriors' necks. Pearpaw in particular had a basket of seashells, perfect for decoration. The seashells jingled together as Pearpaw walked alongside Icepaw and the pair listened to Dovepaw's rambling.

"Wolverineheart promised I could meet her friend Deerswipe tonight!" Dovepaw chirped, bouncing around the apprentices. "She's half-blind too. They spar together all the time! And now that SlugClan's not mad at us, Wolverineheart said she and Deerswipe can show me some tricks!"

"Was she part of the raid?" Icepaw muttered, unable to stop his hackles from rising.

"What raid?" Midnightpaw asked from behind the older apprentices. Valleypaw, who walked alongside his brother, kicked at Midnightpaw's feet.

"You know what raid!" Valleypaw huffed.

"No, because there's been two," Midnightpaw chirped innocently, stumbling back into a steady pace. "There was SlugClan breaching camp, and then there was LynxClan stealing our crabs."

"We're talking about a SlugClan warrior," Valleypaw groaned, rolling his eyes. "Why would we talk about LynxClan?"

"Midnightpaw's fine, Valley," Pearpaw huffed, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter if Deerswipe was part of that attack or not. We listen to our leaders, and we talk through what happened at the Gathering. That's what Clan life is like."

Icepaw relaxed at his sister's wise words, but something twisted in his chest. Yes, that was what Clan life was like. Yet none of them were technically ever meant to live that life. Dovepaw chose it, sure, but the other apprentices were less than a moon old when their mothers found them. They only had theories as to what happened with Midnightpaw and Valleypaw's birth mother. And for Icepaw and Pearpaw… well, their fate was decided for them before they were even born, by two mollies Icepaw never met. He could only hear secondary tales of Lemmy's motivations, and wonder why Potterypool agreed to murder his father. At least she felt bad about it afterward. Yet that did not stop the twisting in Icepaw's chest.

He recognized the great cliffside leading up to the Leader's Stone from Puddlewhisper's stories. He could see glimpses of the great bonfire through the distant shrubs. The hushed purrs of countless cats filled his ears. Oilstar and Wildclaw were already up and over by the time Icepaw and the other apprentices got close. Just before Icepaw could follow the rest of his Clan up, however, Scaleripple stepped in front of him.

"A few rules before you go up," Scaleripple said, his blue-feathered tail high. "Stay with us while the leaders give their announcements. We can socialize when they're done. Stay in the clearing. Be smart about what you share."

"Wolverineheart told me all that," Dovepaw huffed, cocking his head. "Why are you? You aren't our mentor."

"I'm a teacher now," Scaleripple said with a hint of pride in his purr. "I help apprentices. That's my job."

"Don't be rude, Dovepaw," Valleypaw huffed, gently smacking Dovepaw's side.

"I wasn't being rude, I was asking a question," Dovepaw said, earnest in his naivity.

"Let's go," Pearpaw said, weaving around Scaleripple and up the cliffside path. Icepaw was right on his sister's tail, heart racing as the voices above grew louder and louder.

It wasn't the size of the crowd that stunned Icepaw. He knew to expect more cats than he could count, with caretakers uncovering hidden cookware and constructing makeshift ovens and stoves. He knew each of the four leaders already on the Leader's Stone, from top to bottom: Eelstar, Gentlestar, Ospreystar, and Lettucestar. No, as Icepaw stared out across the crowd, he saw one cat in particular, sitting at the front of their Clan. It was a brown rosette covered tabby whose blue eyes caught in the firelight. She was thin, yet nimble in frame, sitting tall and tense, staring at the Leader's Stone. Icepaw couldn't explain how he knew with such certainty, but he knew. That was Nimblestep. That was his mother.

"Icepaw, let's sit near the front!" Midnightpaw called, charging past Icepaw. Icepaw stumbled forward, and the rest of his Clan pulled him through the crowd. By the times he got his bearings, he was close to the front of RippleClan, sitting beside Midnightpaw, Dovepaw, and Pearpaw, sans basket. Valleypaw lurked further into the crowd by Asterblaze. Icepaw searched for Nimblestep once more. Nimblestep's eyes sweeped RippleClan. She was looking for her kits.

"I want to give my Clan plenty of time to celebrate tonight," Oilstar called as she found her place on the bottom of the Leader's Stone. "Let's go through this moon's news quickly."

Icepaw struggled to focus as the other leaders gave their reports. Icepaw knew he should pay attention, Shrewflame would probably ask him questions later. But how could he pay attention when Nimblestep was so close by? Icepaw could barely sit still. Nimblestep was right there. He knew she would be, but to see her so soon, so suddenly…

The five Clans melted together faster than Icepaw expected. He hadn't even realized the leaders had finished delivering their news. Had the Clans cheered his name somewhere in all that noise? He couldn't tell.

"Icepaw." Oh thank StarClan, Paleseed was there. The gray speckled mediator brushed against her nephew, with Pearpaw lingering beside her. "Your birth mother is here. Do you want to meet her?"

"I already see her," Icepaw said as the SlugClan party merged with the rest of the Clans. Nimblestep swerved between cats, deftly navigating the chaotic reunions toward her own chaotic reunion. Her tail inched upward, ever hopeful. In Icepaw's eye, flashes of Puddlewhisper's blood still stained Nimblestep's mouth.

"I can stay with you while you meet her," Paleseed promised softly.

"No thank you," Pearpaw gulped. "I—We want to meet her alone." No! There was no "we" in that decision! Icepaw shook his head rapidly, but Paleseed merely touched noses with Pearpaw and dissolved into the crowd. She was gone before Icepaw could choke out a word.

"Pearpaw!" Icepaw whined.

"We shouldn't have someone else minding us for this," Pearpaw whispered as Nimblestep drew closer. "Nimblestep's our mother." Some mother, Icepaw thought.

"Is it you?" Nimblestep croaked as the crowd began to part and find places to share tongues. "Icepaw? Pearpaw?" Her voice quivered.

"Hi, Nimblestep," Pearpaw gulped. Icepaw didn't know whether to puff himself up and stand in front of his sister or allow his sister to take the lead. He stayed right next to Pearpaw, taking in Nimblestep's features. Pearpaw looked nothing like Nimblestep; the former was round and a bit short, while Nimblestep was tall and thin. Did Icepaw have his mother's angular face? Or did his features align more with his long-lost father?

"You're really here," Nimblestep purred. Her whiskers suddenly danced over Icepaw's pelt as she sniffed her lost son. Flashes of an event Icepaw could never have remembered overwhelmed his senses; teeth slipping off of his pelt, wood smacking into his skull, forever damaging the brain within. Icepaw's head throbbed in response.

"Hold on," Icepaw stammered, dancing away from Nimblestep. "Shouldn't Quickpaw be here?" Pearpaw's blue eyes (the only thing she shared with her birth mother) glistened at the thought of her unknown sister. Nimblestep's eyes glowed too.

"She's just with her mentor," Nimblestep eagerly explained. "She's going to be a mediator. This way, hurry." Nimblestep jogged through the crowd, but kept pausing to make sure Icepaw and Pearpaw were behind her. Both apprentices followed their birth mother, eyeing each other as they went.

Quickpaw sat with an older black tom among a gaggle of mediators from across the five Clans. Sandhollow and Slushtrail sat in their number, close to the young apprentice. Quickpaw looked exactly like Nimblestep. They shared the same brown fur and black markings. She had the spots to fill Nimblestep's rosettes. She was just as thin and clearly taller than Icepaw and Pearpaw. Yet her eyes were a rich dark brown, moving away from the family's pattern of blue.

When Quickpaw spotted her family through the crowd, she said something quickly to her mentor, who caught Nimblestep's eye. When Quickpaw's mentor nodded, the young brown molly bounded through her fellow mediators and straight to Nimblestep's side. Nimblestep nuzzled her daughter, purring deep. Quickpaw returned the gesture, stretching her head high to rub against her mother. Icepaw felt ill.

"You made it," Quickpaw gasped, oggling Icepaw and Pearpaw. She took in every detail of her littermates' pelts, but Icepaw could only look at Nimblestep. Her eyes shouldn't have been so relaxed, her pupils slit and calm. That was the look Puddlewhisper had when Icepaw became an apprentice. That was a mother's look.

Nimblestep did not deserve a mother's look.

"So…" Pearpaw gulped, "how do we do this?"

"I want to talk to Quickpaw," Icepaw blurted, louder than he intended. "Just Quickpaw. Uh, and Pearpaw too, I mean. Not Nimblestep. Later. Just… over here!" Icepaw spotted an empty spot on the far side of the clearing, beyond the Leader's Stone. Icepaw's claws dug up grass as he ran through the crowd. Whatever cries of shock his family gave, the sound of the Gathering covered it up.

Icepaw skidded to a stop beyond the chaos of the five Clans. When he glanced back, his racing heart eased. Pearpaw and Quickpaw were on their way. Nimblestep was lost within the crowd.

"What are you doing?" Pearpaw gasped as she and her lost sister neared their brother. "We can't just run away from Nimblestep like that! She's been dying to see us!" Yes, dying—like what happened to Downstar when SlugClan sent a whole patrol to steal Icepaw and Pearpaw from the only life they knew. Icepaw squeezed his eyes tight.

"Later, Pearpaw," Icepaw said through gritted teeth. "I can't do it now. I just can't." Icepaw finally looked up and locked eyes with Quickpaw. Did Nimblestep save her because they both looked the same? Would Icepaw be in her place if Quickpaw had been the one to slip out of Nimblestep's jaws that fateful day? Had Pearpaw even been considered for salvation?

"What would she have called us," Icepaw finally huffed, "if she got to keep us? She named you Quick. Who would we have been?"

"Icepaw, Nimblestep probably didn't—" Pearpaw began.

"You would have been Sleek," Quickpaw said. She said it with such blunt sincerity that Icepaw snapped out of his spiraling thoughts. "Pearpaw, you would have been Silent. Quick, Sleek, and Silent." Hmm. Sleek. Icepaw had to admit, he didn't hate the name.

"I'm sorry, Icepaw's being rude," Pearpaw stammered, looping around Quickpaw. "I'm so happy I get to meet you. I've spent so long wondering what you would be like!"

"Me too," Quickpaw purred. She hesistated before Pearpaw, glancing at Icepaw all the while. Suddenly, Quickpaw dove into Pearpaw and rubbed against her shoulder. Pearpaw squealed at the sudden touch but did not recoil. A moment later, Pearpaw rubbed into her sister's neck with a noisy purr.

"Did Nimblestep tell you she attacked our mom?" Icepaw asked before his littermates could start sharing tongues and forget they were ever apart. "Puddlewhisper, I mean. She raised us. Nimblestep almost bit her tail off."

"My mentor, Crowtail, did," Quickpaw admitted, still purring as she moved back from Pearpaw. "He was there. Mom said she was sorry. She got overwhelmed."

"She still hurt our mom," Icepaw growled with a thrash of his tail. He pulled himself back, swallowing the bile climbing his throat. "But you… who are you? I mean, what are you like? I mean… I don't know what I mean." Icepaw kicked at the grass.

"I'm just… me," Quickpaw said, cocking her head slightly. "I don't really know how to describe myself. I like moss-ball. I like visiting the river, swimming is really fun. Uh… oh, don't tell Mom, but most of the time, when I need a break from her, I hide in this little nook in the roots of the Leader's Tree and sing to myself. I like singing."

"You hide from her?" Pearpaw repeated, taking a seat. "Why would you ever hide from your mom? Is she mean?"

"No!" Quickpaw stammered. "The opposite. She won't leave me alone sometimes. She always wants to know what I'm doing and if she can help. I couldn't wait to be an apprentice." Quickpaw glanced over her shoulder, as though Nimblestep would ignore Icepaw's wishes and storm into the conversation.

"Did she tell you how she left us?" Icepaw asked.

"In a way," Quickpaw groaned. "She told me she only managed to save me. Your meditators visited camp a few moons ago, and I bothered Sandhollow until he told me about you two." Quickpaw cocked her tail at Pearpaw and said, "You're always sticking close to Icepaw, and you get upset when something bad happens to a hero in stories."

"I want them to be happy," Pearpaw whined playfully.

"You love to stick your nose into everything," Quickpaw said, now pointing at Icepaw. "You're too smart for your own good, but you have a 'warrior's heart', whatever that means."

"Was Sandhollow complimenting us or insulting us?" Icepaw chuckled.

"You're also rude," Quickpaw pointed out. "Mom's always tried her best with me. You can at least see that she's trying."

"That's what I've been telling him!" Pearpaw huffed, making a face at Icepaw.

"She's not the one I want to get to know," Icepaw grunted. "She chose you, not us. Well, I want to choose you, and I want you to choose us. I want another sister."

"That's why I'm going to be a mediator!" Quickpaw chirped, ears perking. "I can make lots of excuses to see you!" Icepaw's ears perked up too. The twisting force in his chest unwound itself.

"Does SlugClan have any teachers?" Pearpaw asked. "Maybe Icepaw can get Shrewflame to help SlugClan with the new role!"

"We have one," Quickpaw hummed, "but I have a better idea. How do you feel about sneaking out of camp?"

"Quickpaw," Icepaw said with the seriousness of a battle-hardened warrior. "I have wanted to sneak out of camp since I was born."

"That doesn't make any sense," Quickpaw laughed, playfully flinging her paw at Icepaw.

"Wouldn't it be better to make sure the adults approve our visits?" Pearpaw gulped. "I don't want to make my mentor upset."

"The adults are why Mom never saw you before tonight," Quickpaw whispered, leaning in. "We're shouldn't have to wait until graduation before we can visit each other. We should have our own Gatherings!"

"We could meet where SlugClan, WheatClan, and AshClan meet," Icepaw purred, ideas sparking wildly. "We can meet on the new moon! That way we don't have to worry about missing the actual Gathering."

"It'll be fun, Pearpaw!" Quickpaw said, nudging the pale ginger molly. "Don't you want a sister?"

"I really do," Pearpaw groaned, one ear angling back. "Oh… alright, let's do it. The Littermates Gathering." Quickpaw and Icepaw cheered at the top of their lungs. Icepaw laughed at Quickpaw's cries, and Quickpaw laughed at Icepaw's laughter.

That was family, to him—choice. He wanted them, they wanted him, and none of them would let the others go.

(Icepaw: 7, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Dovepaw: 7, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, active imagination)

(Midnightpaw: 6, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, always wandering)

(Valleypaw: 6, male, caretaker apprentice, strict, avid play-fighter)

(Pearpaw: 7, female, historian apprentice, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories)

(Scaleripple: 50, male, teacher, lonesome, unusually strong fighter)

(Oilstar: 101, female, leader, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Paleseed: 63, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

Tallowheart gets tossed around by the ocean waves while fishing. It’s his good swimming that leaves him with just some broken ribs.

[Image ID: Tallowheart limps away from the ocean, muttering "Oww…" Under him, it reads + CONDITION: BROKEN RIBS.]

(Tallowheart: 33, male, historian, nervous, good swimmer)

[snailstep-and-her-clan]

Ermineclaw gathers his youngest kits to tell them bedtime stories as they settle in for a sunhigh nap.

He’s honestly an honorary queen at this point. Snailstep loves her kits but hates being cooped up in the nursery and can’t wait to leave, while Ermineclaw hates being away from the nursery and his kits for even a second and rushes through his chores to get back. So once the kits are old enough to no longer need to nurse, Snail goes back to her warrior duties and Ermineclaw takes over the majority of nursery work.

Here are the two youngest all grown up:

I did upload a pic of these two in the full family lineup but I wasn’t happy with their designs so I revamped them.

Stoatfrost is named after Ermineclaw and Icestar (based off of @graphite-grey 's OCS), and he will eventually become Snailsteps medicine cat apprentice .

Lilyleaf was originally called Amberleaf but she didn’t really have anything Amber about her so I changed it lol. She’s also the smallest of all the siblings

Also while drawing this I had this stupid thing in my brain 🤣

[clangenrising]

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.

[twilights-800-cats]

<< Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || Chapter 15 || From the Beginning || Patreon >>

Chapter 14

Mistyfoot found herself wandering.

At first, she thought she was stuck in that dark forest again, that perhaps her mother had decided she would be punished by walking in circles through the fog - and then the world shifted, distorting around her paws. She heard the crash of water against stone and the cry of gulls up above in a sky that stretched into infinity - the sounds of a place Mistyfoot hadn’t been to for a very long time.

Then the sun sank with a blinding orange flash, plunging Mistyfoot into darkness again. The smell of earth was all around, and she fumbled in the shadows, her ears ringing with clandestine whispers. The sound of water rushed deep in her ear fur. The world was dark and cold and wet, and she had no idea where she was or what was happening.

Follow me, said a voice.

Mistyfoot trembled. The forest, the dying sun, the darkness, they were all mixing and melding, being one place one minute and then another the next, with no pattern that she could discern to make it stop. The whispers, the crash of water, the eerie, heavy silence - all of it pressed down on her tight as talons, and she dug her claws into whatever was below her to keep herself steady.

Come on! Hurry! said the voice.

She knew that voice. Mistyfoot pricked her ears. “S-Stormfur?” she dared to mew. “Is that you?”

Come on!

Anything was better than this swirling, confusing mess. Mistyfoot took off as fast as she dared, her ears ringing with whispers and her heart heavy with grief. She had no idea where she was going - the world was changing so rapidly that none of it made sense from one heartbeat to the next - but she was following the only thing she knew she could trust: Stormfur.

Hurry! he was saying, his voice frantic. Before it’s too late! We need-

All went white, and Mistyfoot woke up.

———————————————————

As Mistyfoot ate her breakfast outside the warrior’s den, she tried to make sense of her dream. Has Bluestar done it? She hadn’t seen her mother since walking away from her that night. Was it because she had confronted Stoneheart two days ago on a matter she had decided was not worth pursuing?

But then why was Stormfur there? She was used to seeing him in her dreams, but not like this. He had been calling for her, not repeating his last words. There was something he had wanted, but Mistyfoot hadn’t been able to reach him - or was it the other way around?

Her head spun. I’m not built for this dream nonsense! she thought, annoyed. Shadepool might have answers, but what if Mistyfoot was reading too much into it? And how could she bring it up without revealing her meetings with Bluestar? Shadepool would never feel right about keeping that from Tinystar or Nightfrost. Mistyfoot’s pelt prickled.

Shadepool wouldn’t be back till after sunhigh, anyway - she had gone to the Moonpool yesterday, escorted by Spiderfang and Whitewing. Talking with her wasn’t an option right now, and Mistyfoot was certain Brackenfur wouldn’t appreciate being bothered by a warrior’s dream.

She frowned, looking out at the clearing. She had already sent most of the camp out on their morning patrols, and the stone hollow was calm and empty. Most of the noise came from Daisy watching her kits sparring outside the nursery, each desperate to show their mother what moves they had picked up from Rainwhisker and Larchpaw. Even Tinystar was gone, wanting to stretch his legs and keep his presence known on the WindClan border - unfortunately, Nightfrost had gone with him.

That was probably for the best. Mistyfoot still wasn’t sure how to broach the topic of Stormfur with him - let alone the fact that she had been dreaming of him since he died in the mountains. She was certain it would only hurt Nightfrost to know of it, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

No secrets, they had promised. It was becoming far harder than Mistyfoot had ever anticipated, and the guilt in her belly only seemed to grow. She didn’t want to lose Nightfrost, not like she seemed to have lost Stoneheart, whose anger filled her mind whenever she thought of her brother.

“Got something on your mind, Mistyfoot?”

Mistyfoot pricked her ears. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed Mousefur approaching. Ferncloud was just a step behind the senior warrior, her green eyes bright and considering.

Mistyfoot tilted her head. “Aren’t you two supposed to be hunting?” she questioned.

“We are,” Mousefur mewed knowingly. “But...”

“But we saw you and wondered if you wanted to come with us,” Ferncloud hurried on. She stepped closer, nodding to Mistyfoot’s breakfast. “You seem like you need a distraction.”

Mistyfoot glanced down at her meal - the mouse was only half-eaten, and had long grown cold. Mistyfoot sighed, putting a paw over it.

“We haven’t hunted together in a while,” Ferncloud prodded. “So?”

Mistyfoot glanced between the she-cats, swallowing. They were an odd combination, Mousefur the grumpy, gruff senior warrior and Ferncloud the sweet, gentle queen - but they were both Mistyfoot’s friends, too, and she had woefully neglected them for a long time. She was touched they were making the offer, and perhaps it was exactly what she needed to take her mind off everything.

“I’ll come,” she decided. “Let me finish up real quick, okay?”

She devoured her mouse in a few quick, cold gulps and set the bones aside to clean up later. She stretched, shook out her coat, and told the two she-cats, “After you!”

They were out of camp and in the forest a few heartbeats later, breathing in the fresh newleaf air. The sky above was a bright blue splashed with wispy white clouds, and the trees held full crowns of leaves in their branches, wavering in a wind that touched only their very tops.

“I’m so glad leafbare is done,” Ferncloud breathed. She puffed out her spotty pelt. “I thought I’d never see green again!”

“So, where are we headed?” Mousefur wondered, looking over her shoulder.

Mistyfoot balked, realizing they expected her to take control of the patrol. She whisked her tail and insisted, “This was your patrol, Mousefur; you lead on.” Her whole life seemed to be making decisions lately - right now, more than anything, she just wanted to follow, not lead.

Mousefur shrugged, unbothered. “There’s a spot over near ShadowClan territory that’s been neglected lately,” she decided. “Let’s go over there.”

“Sounds good,” Ferncloud agreed.

Mistyfoot could only nod. The last place she wanted to be right now was anywhere near ShadowClan territory - but she had given up control of the patrol, so she fell in by Mousefur’s flank as the smaller she-cat set off. Ferncloud took up the rear, humming something pleasant that tickled Mistyfoot’s whiskers.

Their walk through the forest was quiet otherwise, and Mistyfoot let herself enjoy it - this new land had so much to offer, and she tried to find something new to add to her mental map of ThunderClan territory. A fresh breeze came up from the lake, bringing in the scents of water and clear air.

“Have you tried swimming in the lake yet?” Ferncloud wondered.

“No,” Mistyfoot answered. She hadn’t had the time, and the water had been ice cold when they arrived in leaf-fall.

“Silverstream says it’s fun when the sun’s out,” Ferncloud told her. Her tail twisted into a happy curl. “She said she’d teach us if we wanted to learn! I plan on trying myself - I never got to swim in the river in the old forest. What about you two?”

“Silverstream is welcome to it,” Mousefur grunted. She glanced over her shoulder and mewed, “I’ve got too many memories of cats drowning by messing about in water.”

Ferncloud hesitated, looking slightly hurt. Quickly, Mistyfoot said to her, “Feathertail and Stormfur taught us some about swimming when we were traveling together - it came in handy. I’d like to not forget about it.” To Mousefur, she added, “They said that one of the most important things about safety in the water is to know your limits.”

“Well, I certainly know mine!” Mousefur agreed, waving her tail. “They’re telling me to leave the water for the youngsters. Now, come on.”

Ferncloud purred, her mood lightened, and Mistyfoot chuckled. They continued walking, rounding the training glade and heading deeper into the forest. As they made their way toward the Sky Oak, Mistyfoot tried to hide her trepidation - the ShadowClan border wasn’t far, and neither was the oak tree that hid the tunnel. Would they stumble across it? How would she explain it to them?

Instead, they heard a sharp voice in the trees: “You can do it, Larchpaw. Come on!”

Ferncloud’s ears pricked, and the patrol drew to a halt. Mousefur muttered something under her breath but didn’t protest further as they paused. Mistyfoot peered between the trees and spotted Ashfur down the slope at the base of a tall birch tree, staring up into its branches.

“I-I need help!” Larchpaw called from above. Mistyfoot spied him several fox-lengths up the birch, clinging for dear life.

“I can’t help you get down,” Ashfur meowed back, “or else you’ll never do it yourself.”

Mistyfoot glanced at Ferncloud. She could tell the queen was fighting the urge to go down the slope and help - a fight she ultimately lost, as a moment later, she was skidding down the hill towards her brother and her son.

Mousefur sighed. “Might as well...”

Mistyfoot and Mousefur made their way down the slope after her, careful for the jutting roots hidden beneath the undergrowth. They reached Ferncloud and her brother a moment later, all gathering at the base of the birch tree.

“Is he okay?” Ferncloud was asking. “Can he do it?”

“He can,” Ashfur muttered. “And don’t be so loud!”

Mistyfoot frowned. Looking up, she could tell that Larchpaw was terrified. He clung to the birch’s trunk with all his might, his tail puffed and lashing, searching for balance. The only branches he could seek refuge on were too high to reach.

Mistyfoot felt concern billow in her belly. “He’s losing energy,” she muttered. “Ashfur, he might fall!”

Ashfur threw her a look of thunder, his dark blue eyes sharp. “Shut up!” he hissed. “Do you want to scare him?! And what do you know, anyway? You’ve never taught an apprentice how to go up a tree!”

Mistyfoot flinched, stung.

“Ash!” Ferncloud breathed. “That’s not fair!”

“Neither is her - or you - thinking you know more about what I’m doing than me,” Ashfur growled back. “Now, shove off, will you? You’re making it worse!”

“Cool it, youngster,” Mousefur rumbled, narrowing her pale eyes. “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to.”

Ashfur curled his lip, the fur along his neck rising. Larchpaw’s mew came from above: “Mama? Is that you?”

“It is, Larchpaw!” Ferncloud meowed, pushing past her brother. She put her forepaws on the base of the birch tree and called up, “Focus on my voice, okay? You can do this!”

“I-I’m scared!” Larchpaw wailed. He trembled. “If I let go...”

“You’ll be fine,” Ferncloud soothed. “Just go slow - one paw at a time. That’s it, like that, go on...”

Slowly, Larchpaw began to inchworm his way down the birch trunk. He skidded once or twice, his paws catching in the thin, brittle bark, but each time Ferncloud soothed him, patient and kind. After what seemed like ages, Larchpaw was down on the ground, his eyes watering and paws looking quite sore.

“Go back to camp and get a poultice on those,” Ferncloud urged. She licked her son around the ear. “You did so well, Larchpaw...”

Ashfur hissed between his teeth. “He’s too behind in his training to be coddled, Fern.”

Ferncloud looked up from her son, mewing, “He still did it himself!”

“Dustpelt never did that with me,” Ashfur reasoned.

Ferncloud flicked her tail at the tree. “And Oakheart never had me climb a birch as my first tree!” she countered. She kept her voice low, speaking beside Larchpaw’s deaf ear on purpose. “How behind will he be if he breaks a leg, Ashfur? What if he gets too scared to climb another tree?”

Ashfur bristled. “He’s my apprentice, Ferncloud. I can handle this!”

“I know you can,” Ferncloud told him softly, “but remember that you don’t have to be Dustpelt, okay?”

Ashfur grimaced but accepted a touch from his sister’s nose, and Ferncloud gave her son another fond lick before mumbling an apology to Mousefur. The dusky she-cat shrugged and tilted her head up towards the hunting trail. Both Mistyfoot and Ferncloud nodded in agreement.

Mistyfoot felt Ashfur’s steely glare all the way back up the slope. No doubt he was steaming about having to take Larchpaw back to camp early - she would certainly hear about how his training was being further delayed later on, but right now, it seemed like he didn’t want to cause a bigger scene in front of his apprentice and his sister.

“Sorry about that,” Ferncloud breathed when they were back on the trail. “I just had to make sure that everything was okay.”

Mistyfoot assured, “You’re fine, Fern.”

Mousefur nodded. “Tree climbing is a dangerous lesson,” she mused. “But I don’t think Ashfur appreciated you butting in. You need to trust him.”

Ferncloud frowned. “I know, but...” Her tail trembled as she trailed off.

Mistyfoot blinked sympathetically at the young queen. Ferncloud had already lost two of her kits, and the idea of anything bad happening to Larchpaw had to terrify her.

“Ashfur would never be mean to Larchpaw,” Ferncloud reasoned, having gathered her words. “This is his first apprentice, not to mention his nephew, and Larchpaw is half-deaf. He’s just feeling a lot of pressure to do it right.”

Mistyfoot glanced down the slope. She could see the shapes of Ashfur and Larchpaw heading back to camp, and she felt some small measure of sympathy for the cat who had been mean to her for seasons. Ferncloud had a point, no matter how much Mistyfoot never wanted to admit it.

“I know he’s mean,” Ferncloud went on, “and that he can be a lot - but he’s lonely, you know?” She glanced at Mistyfoot, then at Mousefur. “Snowstep and I were so close during our apprenticeship, and Cloudtail was always with Brightheart and Swiftfoot. We settled into our relationships so quickly, and he’s the only one in our litter without a mate now.”

Mousefur flicked her tail. “I can’t claim to understand that fully, but sure,” she mewed coolly. “But whatever.”

Mistyfoot frowned. Ferncloud’s words made sense. She wondered if Ashfur had ever expressed any interest in any other cat in the Clan but struggled to recall it. In their apprentice days, they had only ever been friendly with one another - it was only when Ashfur became a warrior that he grew meaner and more distant to Mistyfoot specifically.

Ferncloud glanced at Mistyfoot, her green gaze pleading. “Just... be easy on him, okay? If he’s out of line, he’s out of line, but he doesn’t need to be antagonized! He’s still my brother, and he does care, deep down.”

Mistyfoot nodded along. Ferncloud still loved Ashfur, even when he was being rude - and despite what Stoneheart had said, Mistyfoot still loved him, too. Ashfur had his reasons, and Stoneheart did, too, whatever they were. He might’ve been turned into a secretive ShadowClan warrior, but he was still her brother, beyond everything else - she just hoped Nightfrost was right, and that Stoneheart still loved her.

Mousefur shook out her pelt. “This is all well and good, but we came out here to hunt, not analyze our Clanmates. I’d like to have prey in my jaws before nightfall.”

“Agreed,” Mistyfoot meowed.

The three set off again, trotting through the forest. Something was bugging Mistyfoot, though, and after they passed the Sky Oak and drew close to the ShadowClan border, she had to ask: “Wasn’t there anyone that Ashfur was interested in?”

“Oh, StarClan, help me,” Mousefur groaned, not bothering to hide her annoyance now. “All the prey is going to be gone by the time you two are done gossiping...”

Mistyfoot flicked her tail. “I’m just trying to remember, that’s all!”

Ferncloud blinked at Mistyfoot with wide, bewildered eyes. “Misty, you really don’t remember? Ashfur was very interested in y-”

Whether it was a blessing or not, Ferncloud’s words were interrupted by a horrible noise - a high-pitched screech full of pain and misery.

All three she-cats halted, ears pricked and noses twitching. The screech’s echoes bounced between the trees before they died out, and the silence that followed was dreadfully resolute.

“That sounded like it was on ShadowClan territory,” hissed Ferncloud, the fur along her spine bristling. She looked between Mousefur and Mistyfoot and suggested, “The greenleaf Twolegplace?”

Mousefur nodded in agreement, her spine stiffened. Mistyfoot’s pelt crawled as the faint smell of blood touched her scent glands. No more sounds came. None of this was a good sign. Mousefur and Ferncloud glanced at Mistyfoot, the same question burning in their eyes.

Mistyfoot didn’t delegate. There wasn’t time. “Let’s go,” she hissed.

[blizzardstarx]

Blizzardstar’s Storm- Chapter 5

AO3 Link Table of Contents

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings for nightmares, PTSD, graphic depictions of violence, blood, animal death, and decapitation

A/N: :)

Two moons passed without any news of the attacker. Blizzardkit was getting antsy with every day passing, trying to reassure himself with thoughts of Lightningstar and Whitefur will protect us, we’ll be fine, and maybe they forgot and won’t do anything. Although, he admitted to himself that the last one was ridiculous. But in no time, came the day of their apprenticeship, as told to them a day earlier by their parents.

His brother had woken up early today—something that he never did—because of the special occasion. He had shaken them awake, nudging and prodding them until Blizzardkit and his sister roused from their sleep. It was almost sunrise, and the sky was a beautiful mixture of purples, reds, and pinks as the great ball of light began to peek up from the horizon. The dawn patrol left through the camp entrance, and silence was upon the Clan as his Clanmates slept.

Blizzardkit groaned as he felt his brother’s paw, blinking, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. I should really ask Leafpelt for poppy seeds. He hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. Ever since the attack, he had had recurring nightmares that haunted him, and the lack of sleep was catching up to him. Blizzardkit remembered how Mousetail took poppy seeds as well to help and wondered if the medicine cat would do the same for him. He sighed, feeling his mother’s belly fur pressed against him, slowly rising and falling with every breath she took. Blizzardkit leaned into her warmth, not wanting to get up.

“Come on, wake up!” His brother exclaimed. “Today’s the day!”

He was quickly hushed by Splashkit, who glanced over to the brown and white queen sleeping at the other end of the den.

“You know that Lightningstar isn’t going to call a meeting this early,” Splashkit grumbled, shooting Spiderkit a tired glare. “Also Whitefur, Fawnleap, Flutterkit, and Mistlekit are sleeping. Don’t wake them up.”

Spiderkit’s tail drooped dejectedly as she reminded him of that, his ears flattening. “Oops, I forgot.”

 “Go back to sleep, Spiderkit,” Blizzardkit murmured drowsily, already tucking his head down into his paws, and closing his eyes. He felt his brother lay down next to him, sighing, and he felt his mind drift off to sleep.

Sleep quickly enveloped him in its embrace, wrapping around him tight and not letting go. But he found no peace in it, finding himself back in that moment two moons ago again, trapped under someone’s paw, feeling their sharp claws dig into his face. He kicked and thrashed, gasping desperately for air, thrusting his legs upwards and battering at the assailant’s leg, but it was futile. Wake up. No matter what he did, they wouldn’t let go, panic coursing through his veins as he struggled for air, feeling his lungs about to burst. Wake up!

Relief flooded him as he felt the shackles of sleep release their hold on him. Blizzardkit’s head snapped up, his eyes flying wide open as he awakened in the nursery again. The fur on his back stood on end, bristling and quaking with fear. His littermates slept beside him, but his mother’s warmth was gone. Even though the nightmare had only felt like a few moments, sunlight streamed through the bramble bush, showing that it was nearly sunhigh. He shook out his pelt and tried to calm his ragged breathing, taking in a shuddering breath, but it was in vain. 

“Hey, are you okay Blizzardkit?” A soft murmur snapped him out of his trance, and he glanced up to see Fawnleap near him, staring down with concern in her green eyes. 

He turned slightly, seeing the brown and white queen, as well as the blue and green eyes of her kits staring curiously at him from behind her. Blizzardkit nodded, feeling a hot rush of embarrassment flow through his pelt.

You’re almost an apprentice, and you’re still acting like this, he chided himself, pressing his ears flat against his skull. He pushed his feelings aside, focusing on the fact that they were going to become apprentices. He didn’t want to sour the mood, but it still nagged at him at the back of his mind, like an itch he couldn't reach.

“You were crying out in your sleep.” Fawnleap’s gentle voice brought some comfort to him, but not enough to dispel his turmoil.

“Were you having another nightmare?” Flutterkit squeaked. Fawnleap gently hushed her, waving her and Mistlekit away with a flick of her ears, before continuing.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You can always talk to me about it. Pushing away your emotions just makes it worse.”

Blizzardkit just shook his head, nuzzling up to her and feeling her fur brush against him. “I’m fine, I promise.”

The queen sighed, not pushing the issue further, saying quietly, “Sometimes I’m worried about you, Blizzardkit.”

Fawnleap affectionately touched her nose to his before padding away, going back over to her kits, but not before casting him a sad, troubled gaze. Blizzardkit couldn’t meet her eyes, feeling guilt eat at him for lying to her, turning away. He felt her gaze burning into the back of his head, feeling his pelt prickle. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me. 

His mother’s white fur came into sight as she appeared at the entrance of the den, glancing inside. Her eyes lit up at the sight of her kits, padding over to them.

“Well, at least you’re awake,” Whitefur meowed, smiling at Blizzardkit for a moment before turning to his littermates, and nudging them with her nose. “Come on, wake up, Splashkit and Spiderkit.”

His littermates began to stir, their eyes slowly opening. Splashkit slowly raised her head, yawning and stretching, while Spiderkit seemed to remember what was so special about this day, his eyes flying wide with excitement, jumping to his paws.

“Are we becoming apprentices now? Are we? Are we?” He asked, practically bouncing on his paws. Their sister got up, shaking off the last bits of sleep, her eyes lighting up as well.

“Not yet, but the ceremony is nearly ready,” Whitefur says, amusement shining in her blue eyes.

“Aww,” Spiderkit mewed, seeming to settle down a little at her words.

“Although, I wouldn’t let it start with you looking like that,” she teased, seeing his unkempt fur and licking him fiercely until it lay smooth and flat. “You too, Splashkit and Blizzardkit.”

Blizzardkit groaned uncomfortably as she covered their pelts with licks, making them look presentable. Splashkit’s fur caught in the sunlight, shining like snow once Whitefur finished grooming her.

“Stay here, alright? While I go get Lightningstar,” she murmured, and they nodded. Blizzardkit watched her go, shifting on his paws anxiously, knowing they were going to be apprenticed soon.

“Are you guys excited?” Spiderkit asked his littermates, his tail swishing behind him.

“I wonder who Lightningstar will choose to be our mentors,” Splashkit mewed, nodding.

“I’m scared,” Blizzardkit admitted, frowning, feeling a sense of foreboding. 

“What for? We’ll finally be allowed to go outside of camp and be able to hunt and fight!” Spiderkit exclaimed.

Blizzardkit just shook his head, feeling his stomach ache with apprehension. After a few heartbeats of silence, it was broken by his sister’s mew.

“Looks like they’re starting,” Splashkit says, tilting her head toward the clearing. Whitefur was padding alongside Lightningstar, before parting ways with him, heading towards the nursery.

“Come on,” she says, nuzzling the three with pride shining in her eyes, before flicking her tail to signal them to follow. They bounded after her, as Lightningstar neared Skyrock.

“Let all cats old enough to catch prey gather here beneath Skyrock for a Clan meeting!” Lightningstar’s mew rang out across the clearing as he leaped up onto the jagged boulder, the gray tabby’s tail and head held high, carrying an air of dignity. 

Whitefur ushered her kits over, sitting near the base of the rock, glancing up at her mate with happiness. His Clanmates around him maneuvered over, gathering in a semicircle beneath Skyrock, whispering to each other. He saw Leafpelt and Bluepaw emerge out of the medicine den, padding closer. To his left were Cinderclaw and Wolfclaw, the two brothers striding over easily with their hefty builds, sitting next to Houndstrike and Harepounce. Near the Clan entrance were Goldenstripe, Acornleaf, and Shimmertail, emerging from the gorse tunnel, returning from their patrol. The small, black and white she-cat, Magpieflight, sat side by side with Blossombreeze, gazing lazily up at Lightningstar. Blizzardkit saw Thrushwing convincing Mousetail to join him outside of the den, and the brown elder noticed him staring, giving the kit a smile. Fawnleap and her kits also emerged from the nursery, watching the meeting from a distance. 

Lightningstar flicked his tail, calling for silence, and most of the StormClan cats obeyed. Blizzardkit noticed some of the warriors discreetly discussing matters, despite their leader’s wishes. He felt a pang of annoyance at the blatant disrespect, but pushed it away, focusing on the excitement of becoming an apprentice.

His father didn’t pay any mind to the warriors, but his more outspoken mate was not afraid to show her disapproval, shooting them a glare. They quietly died down, and Lightningstar cleared his throat, beginning. “Cats of StormClan, as you all know, my kits have now reached the age of six moons old, and are ready to be apprenticed. This Clan grows stronger each day and will recover from the terrible aftermath of the Great Famine. And with leaf-fall coming, it’ll be great having a few extra paws to catch prey.”

Cheers erupted from the StormClan warriors, and slowly died down as Lightningstar raised his tail.

“Blizzardkit, step forward,” he says. The gray and white tabby kit did so, feeling his stomach churn in nervousness and anticipation.

“From this day on, you shall be known as Blizzardpaw, and your mentor is Acornleaf.” Blizzardpaw saw the orange and white tabby walking over to him, and he blinked joyfully at her, glad that Lightningstar chose her to be his mentor. 

Lightningstar continued. “Acornleaf, I know you will pass down your courage and wisdom to Blizzardpaw and will teach him well.” The she-cat dipped her head at his praise, then turned back to Blizzardpaw. He strained to touch his nose to hers, before drawing back.

“Blizzardpaw! Blizzardpaw!” The Clan acclaimed, and Blizzardpaw felt his pelt prickle with pride as he saw his family yowling the loudest. He stood beside his mentor, turning back to her as she spoke.

“I can’t wait to teach you everything,” she purred warmly, grinning.

“I can’t wait to learn how to hunt and fight,” Blizzardpaw answered back enthusiastically, excitement ringing in his tone as he stared up at his mentor’s green eyes.

“Well, you’d also have to tend to the elders and gather moss for nests,” Acornleaf chuckled, reminding him of the other duties of an apprentice. “There’s more to a warrior than hunting and fighting.”

Lightningstar then beckoned his daughter to the foot of the rock. “Splashkit, from this moment on you will be known as Splashpaw. Your mentor will be Goldenstripe. Goldenstripe, you have shown great loyalty and determination to your Clan, and I trust that you will pass those traits on to Splashpaw.”

“Splashpaw! Splashpaw!” Blizzardpaw yowled, throwing his head back to the sky, and straining his voice. He saw her padding over, taking the spot next to him, her white and silver fur rippling with honor.

“Last but not least, Spiderkit. From now on, you will be known as Spiderpaw. Ravenflight, you will be his mentor, and I hope that you will pass on to him your intelligence and wits.”

“Spiderpaw! Spiderpaw!” StormClan acclaimed the three new apprentices, filling the clearing with congratulatory yowls. Blizzardpaw felt as if his heart was bursting out of his chest, glee glimmering in his eyes as he turned to his littermates, who sat with their mentors next to him.

“That wasn’t so bad, wasn’t it?” Spiderpaw whispered quietly to Blizzardpaw, nudging him with his shoulder.

“Better than I thought,” he answered back, grinning. His jitters were long gone, chased off by his Clanmates’ roars.

“Meeting dismiss—” Lightningstar’s voice was quickly cut off as the lean, long-legged black tom named Houndstrike leaped up onto the rock, lunging towards him. His claws were unsheathed, and the lean tom let out a blood-curdling yowl. Whitefur stared in shock, before regaining her composure, growling, rushing to defend her mate. He watched in horror as Wolfclaw leaped onto his mother, stopping her in her tracks. Suddenly, he felt an unpleasant scent—one quite like that fateful day two moons ago—wash over his tongue as cats he didn’t recognize burst through the Clan entrance.

“Rogues!” Acornleaf yowled, the fur on her back standing on end as she drew her lips back into a snarl, hissing at the intruders. Blizzardpaw froze, his gaze locked onto the battle happening above him, horror in his eyes as he pleaded for Lightningstar to win, to fight Houndstrike off. 

He has plenty of lives, right? He’ll survive. He’ll win. Blizzardpaw tried to reassure himself, but distress prickled at his paws, staring anxiously up at them. The two toms exchanged blows. Houndstrike slashed Lightningstar’s muzzle, and Lightningstar bit his front leg, before being shaken off by the black tom. They were getting dangerously close to the edge of the rock, and Lightningstar battered Houndstrike away.

“Traitor! Why are you doing this?” He snarled, glaring at him.

“This is what you deserve,” the tom spat, snapping his teeth at Lightningstar, but the gray tabby jerked his muzzle away. “For all the cats you killed, that you let starve!”

Lightningstar looked bewildered, his eyes wide as he stared at Houndstrike’s hate-filled eyes that burned with anger. The black tom lunged at him, muscles rippling beneath his fur, pinning him down. He slammed his paws down into Lightningstar’s head, into the cold, hard surface of the rock, and Lightningstar hissed in pain, unable to move. Houndstrike turned to the gathering of cats beneath him, raising his head high as he showed the StormClan cats their leader, now weak and powerless under his paws.

“StormClan, to me! Lightningstar is unfit to be leader, letting SunClan and StoneClan trample over us and steal our prey! I will lead you to greatness and we will rule this forest once more, without worry of another famine again, and without the other Clans. StormClan was the first, and shall be the last!”

Chaos ensued as his Clanmates around him turned on each other, hearing Houndstrike’s words. He saw Cinderclaw joining his brother on the assault against Whitefur, and the white she-cat stood her ground, hissing, rearing up on her hind legs and slashing Wolfclaw’s shoulder. Magpieflight was tussling with Eagleflight, nicking his ear and tearing out a chunk of his fur. Blossombreeze lunged at Shimmertail, and his mentor rushed to help her friend, growling. Fawnleap, Mistlekit, and Flutterkit were cowering in the nursery, with Fawnleap protecting her kits. She put herself bravely in front of them, hissing at a rogue that came too close. More rogues swarmed the StormClan warriors, and Blizzardpaw found himself separated from his littermates. He swung his head around desperately, trying to find them and bolting away from the battle occurring in front of him. 

Blood stained the dirt beneath him, painting the ground a haunting shade of crimson. Desperate screeches of pain and anger sounded out from the camp as the StormClan warriors fought, and Blizzardpaw felt his eyes become misty, obscuring his vision, watching it unfold all around him. Realization dawned on him as he realized this was what that cat—whom he realized was probably Houndstrike—had planned all along. Suddenly, the guilt that lay dormant in the back of his mind awakened, perching on his shoulders like a hawk, weighing and dragging him down. Every pawstep he took made the world spin around him, and he felt his stomach churn. If he had remembered who the cat was, if he had just recognized them, none of this would’ve happened. It’s my fault. None of this would’ve happened if not for me.

Blizzardpaw took in a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions that was awakening within him. He squinted his eyes, whirling his head around, focusing on finding his mentor and littermates. He spotted the orange and white tabby fur of his mentor, and she was too preoccupied with a rogue and Blossombreeze. Blood trickled down her ear as she fought them off alongside Shimmertail, slashing the rogue’s flank. Blizzardpaw knew the warrior could probably hold her ground, so he diverted his attention to his littermates.

“Spiderpaw, Splashpaw!” He yowled, swinging his head around wildly, praying that they weren’t dead. Please, StarClan. Where are they?

He felt the wind get knocked out of him as a rogue leaped onto his body, digging their claws into his shoulder, and then his stomach. They bore their teeth at him, snarling, and he felt their rank, putrid breath flood his nose, smelling of crowfood. The rogue darted forward, attempting to bite his neck. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, blood rushing in his ears, fueling him to lash out with his hind leg. He kicked the rogue in the stomach and heard a sharp cry of pain come from the attacker. Blizzardpaw took the chance to roll away, hissing, ears flattening.

Blizzardpaw scrambled to his paws, his heart pounding in his ears, cats yowling all around him, echoing throughout the camp clearing.

“No!” He heard his mother cry out as she struggled with the two gray toms, seeing horror reflected in her eyes as she let out a wail, clawing her way out but being dragged back by her tail by Wolfclaw.

Dread fell upon him as he glanced back up at Skyrock, following Whitefur’s gaze, seeing Houndstrike’s eerie yellow eyes glaring down at him, and his father missing. The tom looked triumphant, his tail held high, watching the fighting beneath his paws with an icy gaze. Blood was splattered on the rock, covering Houndstrike’s right paw and mouth, dripping down from his teeth and claws.

Where did he go? A wave of nausea washed over him, feeling sick to his stomach as he wandered around like a lost, newborn kit.

Suddenly, he saw an object roll towards him, stopping near his paws. The sickening scent of death bathed his tongue, almost making his body retch in protest. Glazed over, unliving eyes peered back at him as he recognized who it was, bile rising in his throat and his blood running cold.

Beneath his paws lay the severed head of his father.

A/N: happy birthday blizzardstar! heres the moment that traumatized you for the rest of your life! also dont question the physics of a cat decapitating another cat

oh and next chapter will be in two weeks as i have schoolwork to do

@castiels-destiny

Next chapter:

Chapter 6

[mommyclaws]

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.

[talonslockau]

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.

[liviavanrouge]

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...

[the-night-lily]

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.

[forestclan-clangen]

ForestClan History: Apprentice Trials

The apprentice trials are considered to be a part of some of the bloodiest and most shameful rituals ever implemented within ForestClan's history. Originally born from a misunderstanding of the nature of the woods, apprentice trials have been introduced and removed more than once throughout the course of ForestClan's lifetime. Whether it be from superstition about how the woods functioned, or a genuine purpose of reducing collective harm, the end result was a lot of young cats being sent to die, and many grieving cats growing bitter and resentful. Apprentice trials were almost always the catalyst for political pressure and complete turnarounds in political stances between leaderships.

This history dive will be split into three parts, detailing the ritual itself, explaining its origin and historical upkeep, and the impact these trials had on modern-day ForestClan.

THE TRIAL PROCESS

Once a cat turned six moons old, they would be promoted to an apprentice, and given the -paw suffix to go with it. However, before they were assigned a mentor, they would be asked to leave camp, and "seek approval from the woods". The method of how this is done was purposefully vague. Most adult cats understood that the only thing of importance was to survive, and often whispered these realities in secret to the apprentices before they left. The only rules were the following:

The trial must be done immediately after being named an apprentice.

They had to be outside and far enough away to be unable to see camp.

They had to be alone and silent for the duration of their trial.

They had to return within 8 hours, with an additional 4 hour grace period. Over 12 hours, and it was assumed the apprentice was fed to the woods.

Only once all apprentices returned, or the time allocated ran out, would any remaining apprentices be finally assigned a mentor and permitted to train.

Trials could be done during the day or night, but day trials were preferred. This was considered to be merciful, as it was assumed that Woodcrawlers and other Deep Root entities were nocturnal. It also allowed patrols to possibly run into an apprentice during their trial. While the apprentice could not talk to the patrol, and they had to avoid each other, it was still a relief for a clanmate to see them.

Most apprentices spent their time trying to find hiding spots in empty burrows or under upturned trees. If they somehow managed to teach themselves how to climb a tree, this was their safest option. Bold apprentices who didn't believe in the true strength of the woods would be vulnerable - namely because they would explore the territory without caution, and possibly run into Woodcrawler dens or Nature's Mockeries. Any apprentices who were insecure or believed in the supersition of needing "approval" were extremely vulnerable, as they would sit around waiting for "approval" in front of Woodcrawler dens.

Despite being told that their trial had to be done alone, this didn't stop tightly-bonded littermates or friends from trying to find each other after separating from camp. It also didn't stop apprentices from running away from the clan entirely, crossing the border to the Twoleg Greenleaf Camps and becoming kittypets. These were well-guarded secrets behind closed doors. Leaders usually knew about it as well - but it was a case of "don't ask, don't tell". This was also why a leader hosting an apprentice ceremony after sunhigh or at dusk was considered to be cold and merciless. Twolegs were asleep at night and less likely to see a wandering cat, Woodcrawlers would be active, and there wouldn't be any patrols out to provide a passive morale boost.

HISTORICAL ORIGIN

The exact reasons why the apprentice trials began were unfortunately lost to time, but modern-day ForestClan has some ideas, based on stories passed down. After the loss of the other four Clans, the amount of Deep Root entities started to increase. Their once-clear communication with StarClan through their dreams no longer existed. They now gave prophecies, omens, and visions. Their former sacred site to communicate with their ancestors was also destroyed in the Wretch's rampage, and so, many cats panicked. They believed that the Well Groomed Cats were sent by the woods themselves, and by refusing to communicate with them, the woods punished all Clans, including their ancestors. Despite a vision received by an old medicine cat about a gentle camp ringed in spears, many cats felt like they had to beg the Well-Groomed Cats for forgiveness.

It's assumed that the existence of Living Tendrils contributed to the narrative of "seeking approval from the woods". If tendrils were to steal a queen's kits, then the kits were deemed unworthy. When younger apprentices were more prone to stumbling into Nature's Mockeries or Woodcrawlers, their deaths were considered to be the woods showing their disapproval. So, apprentice trials were set up as a way to determine if the woods approved of an apprentice right away, instead of training an apprentice that would die halfway through training.

This practice started to fall apart when a new sacred site to commune with StarClan was found - the Half-Moon Dome. The medicine cats and leaders were told the truth about StarClan's lack of direct communication, the woods, and how the Deep Root entities came from the Iris. The Woodcrawlers were alien animals, not supernatural entities. Vowing to change and make things right, the leaders and medicine cats named themselves secret keepers, and protectors of secrets - to hide the secret about the horrible Iris that threatened to destroy all life. Subsequently, they banned apprentice trials.

However, beliefs are hard to shake, and the fact that Living Tendrils still stole their kits and apprentices still died, lead to many cats doubting their leaders. New problems started to develop as well - with more attempts to stop the Tendrils from taking kits and less overall deaths, ForestClan struggled to find enough prey to feed themselves. Whether it was from deep-rooted fear of superstition, or the realization that Woodcrawlers ate their prey, leaders struggled over the years - repeatedly banning and reinstating apprentice trials after periods of bloodshed and starvation. StarClan themselves have struggled to adequately judge souls based on whether they instated apprentice trials or not, as they also do not have a true solution to the woods' hunger. StarClan are also flawed, individual souls of several cats who are simply trying to keep ForestClan safe and alive, and have their own thoughts on how to do it.

After many moons of infighting among the souls of StarClan, they made a decree to not judge leaders based on whether or not they enforced apprentice trials. The Iris was the ultimate enemy, and it was StarClan's priority. The woods would need to remain the enemy of the living, and something that ForestClan has the free will to decide on how to manage. If a new path to manage the woods' hunger is found that would both save lives and be effective, then StarClan will judge leaders on whether they chose that new method or not. Until then, they abstain from judging leaders based on their practice of trials - much to many StarClan cats' frustrations.

LASTING IMPACT

Currently, ForestClan no longer engages in the practice of apprentice trials. Redstar officially banned the practice outright with the apprenticeship of Talonpaw in Moon 2, much to the joy of the Clan. Part of Lakestar's tyrannical reign did involve the enforcement of apprentice trials, and she often dangled the timing of ceremonies over the heads of any warriors or queens who tried to defy her. Her favouritism was not a secret - she allowed the kits of warriors who supported her to have daylight trials, while those who tried to rebel had their kits assigned to night trials.

Iciclepool's kits and Cloudthunder herself were some of the cats subjected to night trials, where Cloudthunder was the only survivor. Windfur was spared of having to undergo an apprentice trial by the order of Lakestar, who wanted Chicoryglint to stop being the sole medicine cat and actually pass on her knowledge to someone. Barleywave was given a day trial, and he often carries passive guilt from not having the same struggles as other cats.

Redstar and Iciclepool are very adamant about the cruelty of the apprentice trials, and Redstar staunchly believes that feeding her nine lives to the woods should be enough. While she does have the historical knowledge of how apprentice trials came to be, she clings onto one, single hope: the fact that she doesn't have a single piece of historical evidence that the leaders tried feeding themselves to the woods. While Lakestar told her that the woods could tell that they were being fed false food, Redstar holds onto the idea that this is a lie, and that leaders simply haven't tried. This will weigh heavily on Redstar during the course of the story, as it would be too easy for ForestClan to be at peace if that were the case, wouldn't it?

Apprentice trials also have an impact on how outsiders perceive ForestClan. Due to many apprentices running away from home, it's not uncommon for them to share their stories with other kittypets, and those kittypets pass it on to loners and rogues, and so on. With Lakestar's recent reign, outsiders heard horrifying stories of cruel cats sending their children to die at six moons old. Misinformation about this period of time has led to many cats believing that ForestClan is a death cult. Combating this misinformation and proving themselves to be a home for those who need it will be a central focus of ForestClan's interactions with outsiders.