#webstripe story

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Average Day in The Steamlands (short story)

Horsejaw emitted a mangled, throaty growl that sounded like a mixture between a hiss and a whine of pain. “No! Absolutely not! Not him!”

Bursnout dropped the herbs he had been carrying dejectedly. “I’m getting better!” he promised.

“You said that last time,” Jayfrost grumbled while chewing dirt free from beneath his claws. He lay perched on a flat-topped stone a tail-length above them.

“If Horsejaw doesn’t want any help, just leave him,” Webstripe told them. 

Horsejaw had–as has been the case for many of them, a regular occurrence, in fact–been dragged to the Death Ring, where he was clawed and bitten for three days straight before the Steamland cats managed to sneak him out and back to their home. 

Now, Horsejaw lay bleeding on the sandy dirt, streams of crimson leaking between the stones. His left ear had the top part sliced almost clean off, dangling by a thread, while the other was punctured with so many rips and tears that it flopped down as weakly as a dog’s. His tail had two impressive rips in it, and several of his claws had been torn out–no, not torn out, the ‘Clan’ soon realized as they had inspected their companion. His claws had been forced INTO his feet, deeper than simple retraction and painful enough to make them hold their own, healthy toes.

It was normal for all of them to be dragged to the Ring, and to be sliced and diced for the entertainment of the crowd and torturer, but Bursnout couldn’t help but think that this was worse. Normally, they were tools for someone to take their anger out on, clawed and torn into by someone who was usually caught in a blind rage. But this was different, meticulous. Someone had really wanted to hurt Horsejaw, but who? Those he had affected in life were now in Starclan. 

Horsejaw’s pelt was criss-crossed with strings of red wounds. With a paw, Bursnout attempted to reach for them again, only to have Horsejaw swing a paw at him, and then hiss in pain at the movement. 

Jayfrost sighed, rolling his eyes. “Can it really be worse than what you got going on now?”

“Last time, he used stinging nettle!” Horsejaw growled.

“It’s just berries this time!”

“Let me guess, poisonous berries?”

“Eat them and find out,” Jayfrost grumbled, slithering into the argument. 

“Look at me! I’m more red than ginger. The least you useless lot can do is get me a proper medicine cat.”

A wave of anger crashed through Bursnout. Not too long ago, Horsejaw had been half-dead, gasping in pain and thanking them with what little energy he had as they dragged him free of his prison. Where had that gone?

Was he trying to seem strong, because he was still so hurt and scared?

“Who do you suggest we go to, then?” Webstripe challenged. “We SNUCK you out, remember?”

“Oh, what a strange occurence! No one in the Steamlands has ever snuck out anyone ever!" Horsejaw responded with dramatic sarcasm. "Cats sneak out of there all the time, no one cares. You’re only a scratching post while you're trapped, and right now, I bet no one has the energy to trap me again,” Horsejaw stated with a huffed air. That was true, after anyone was taken and either forced to fight or be beaten, the Death Ring was empty for a small time, the bloodthirst satisfied until the next cat came along. “I’d like to see them try!” he added more to himself.

“So would I,” Jayfrost smirked. “We ARE a Clan, somewhat,” he went on, “we should have a medicine cat, shouldn’t we?”

“But I–” Bursnout began to reply, when Webstripe cut him off.

“Fine, fine! As your leader–” the cats grunted– “I will look for a worthy medicine cat. Happy?”

=============

@starfalcon555

Was going to make it a jokey-thing but kinda made it more just a normal story? Whoops?

[425599167]

I really hope Barriss isn't killed off, I think it would be a waste if she dies no matter the buildup, but I have a concern: where has she been, in-universe? Aside from mentions in the Ahsoka novel and one comic in the ST period, Barriss is not seen, mentioned, or alluded to post-RotS, not even in situations where it would make contextual sense.

None of the inquisitors mention her across their numerous appearances, I can only hope because they don't like talking about her kicking their asses. Throughout Vader's constant hunt for Jedi, she's never a concern. She's also not known to be involved with any other rebel groups, like Luthen or the Stinger Mantis crew.

In the Kenobi series, none of the writing in the Path is from or suggestive of Barriss except for, bizarrely, Zonder, Legend Barriss's anthropomorphic otter padawan from a 2004 webstrip. Yes, really.

In Rebels, Kanan knows of Luminara, but didn't talk about Barriss at all despite wanting to find Luminara to train Ezra. I don't blame Luminara for what happened, but the status of her most recent student is kinda noteworthy. Ahsoka never mentions Barriss, which is in-character since she's an intelligence officer and seldom talks about herself, but even when she does, like mentioning her departure from the Jedi, Barriss doesn't come up, not even in an oblique way only the audience would understand.

In the Ahsoka series, she's still not mentioned when Ahsoka is in the visions with Anakin, who already knows the whole story and is there to help Ahsoka work through her issues. Ahsoka's split from the Jedi gets focused on Anakin specifically. Baylan doesn't bring her up despite also presumably knowing about her, and Barriss being perfect ammunition for his mental probing and taunting. Ahsoka may be secretive, but after the Empire falls she's shown openly moving around in the New Republic. Barriss doesn't appear nor is she suggested as someone to contact when dealing with the new threat.

If Barriss isn't killed, she spends almost three decades completely out of contact with every other major character (most importantly Ahsoka) and uninvolved in every canon storyline so far. I can live with that, but it's not encouraging. It's been over a decade and so many stories have been told that even if she lives, there's little room for her to fit.

[wills-woodland-warriors]

The scaredy cat tunnels club | short story

Shrieks and wails came from the forest, echoing off of the walls and surrounding him from every angle. FleaThistle’s pelt prickled, expecting a blow. 

He ducked his head, blocking out every cracked stick, every harsh breath, every piercing cry that resonated through the leafless, ashen-grey trees. The trees swayed in the wind, which grew heavier with the humidity from the hot pits, air damp on his tongue. Their branches swayed and let out cracks and creaks that felt like snapping bones to his ears. 

FleaThistle dug around in the dirt, his paws already covered in it. He brushed a cluster sweet woodruff leaves out of the way, exposing a burrow under the tree. 

He doesn’t remember planting it, but it seems to have thrived in the shaded areas, small bits of light from the glowing mushrooms illuminating the emerald green leaves. 

The dirt was damp, but solid. He squeezed his small frame through the entrance and used his whiskers to navigate the thin, long tunnels that travelled under most of the dark forest. Avoiding multiple falls into pockets of fools puddles, or even at one point caved in snow, he began to hear soft pitter patters of pawsteps. 

CreatureFall leapt down into the hole like a fox diving into snow, popping his head back up with a mouthful of minnows. This close to the starclan border, a pocket of water deep underground had managed to contain a small pocket of minnows. 

The fish kept to one side of the pond, closer to the starclan border, but when they wondered close enough to the dark side he was able to scoop them up quite easily. 

He hasn’t told anyone about them, and goes through great lengths of time hiding the way to the cove. It was his secret. 

He shook his pelt off, and for a brief moment his heart panged as he realized he couldn’t share these with his friends in starclan. CreatureFall hopes they know he’s doing well. 

Weaving down the tunnels, he covered his tracks and kicked the walls to make dirt scatter down the tunnel in piles to mimic a cave in. A flash of white caught his eye, a whip-thin tail disappearing down a turn. He raced after it, calling out to the cat. 

Were they lost? Why were they avoiding him? 

The ground gave out into nothing, sending him flying down a short drop, just deep enough into the cave to stall him. 

Turning, he shook the dust off and looked up at the ledge. A short muzzle poked over the edge followed by the rest of the white and grey striped tom as he peered over the edge. 

“Why are you down there?” WebStripe deadpanned, a slightly satisfied look on his muzzle. 

“Oh, I don’t know, just for fun,” He chirped, using a few rocks to push off of and leap up onto the ledge next to WebStripe. 

WebStripe opened his mouth to reply when they both heard a piercing shriek echo from behind them. 

FleaThistle bolted away from his pursuer, his lungs straining in the dusty air and his paw pads thudding against the pebbles ground. He tried to lean back when two cat-like forms came into view, but he was too slow and instead crashed into the back of the pale one, with his attacker following head over hackles behind him. 

They landed in a twisted lump of four cats, each one groaning and twisting away from the others. The younger grey Molly backed against the wall, hissing and spitting as she clawed at FleaThistle. 

“Get away from me! All of you! Get away!” She shrieked, her tail fluffed up and her teeth barred. 

The three small toms all arched their back,  eyes wide and swaying slightly while they processed the fall. FleaThistle’s front paw ached, and after testing it against the stone floor he winced, deciding to sit back on his haunches. 

“Am I meant to know who they are?” CreatureFall leaned over towards WebStripe. Although he didn’t know much, if anything really, about the skittish tom, he did know that WebStripe wasn’t much of a threat to him. And that he had adorable kittens. He winced as he realized one of the scratches the little menaces had left on his leg had reopened. 

WebStripe gave him a weird look, clearly trying to look unbothered. “I don’t even know who you are,” he hissed, more confusion then malice in his tone. 

FleaThistle shook his pelt out, and gave a friendly smile as he ignored the toms behind him. 

“Hello! You must be new, I’m FleaThistle,” 

The pale blue-grey molly relaxed slightly, her eyes still narrowed as she took in the wounds on their bodies. Her pelt was completely clean of any wounds, but a bit of yellowish bile dripped from the corner of her mouth. 

“I’m Woodnettle,” Doubt laced her tone, but FleaThistle simply nodded to the cats bickering behind him. Something about whose fault it was that they fell? Or were they talking about child support? Either way, both sounded vaguely annoyed. 

“This is WebStripe, and this is… CreatureFall, I believe. Believe it or not, you’re completely safe. You seem to have joined on a bad day, what with the.. organ collecting challenge going on,” FleaThistle gave a vague shrug, licking the tangled fur on his chest. 

WoodNettle’s body untensed. Her ears drooped and she collapsed against the floor in exhaustion. 

They sat for a few minutes, FleaThistle explaining how the dark forest worked.

“Do you have any kin here?” He asked randomly, a tilt to his head. 

“I believe NightStar might be here.��, She paused, “We never found out if he did anything wrong, but he never showed up in starclan.” 

CreatureFall pushed his paw into WebStripes mouth to shut him up, and turned to her with a chirp. “I know him! I think he mentioned he was keeping tabs on you!” 

WebStripe huffed, shoving an unbothered CreatureFall away. 

FleaThistle nodded, turning back to the Molly. “We could take you to him. He and his family, the QuickStar kin, all have a camp not too far from here. We can take the tunnels if you want and be there in twenty or so minutes,” 

She hesitated, eyes darting between them. 

“I think I’d like that.”

==== - I mentioned maybe a week ago that I’d write this, took me a while but here it is! - woodnettle is an upcoming submission! - @residents-of-the-darkforest @starfalcon555 @ambitiousauthor

[1d4rounds]

Support Freelance Heroism on Patreon, for a chance to join the story. https://www.patreon.com/Freelance_heroism And dont forget to turn on post notifications on 1d4Rounds Instagram! #1d4R #1d4rounds #comics #comicartist #comicstrip #webcomic #webstrip #magic #nerd #artistforhire #artist #freelance #humor #funny #illustration #FreelanceHeroism #gaming #videogames #tabletop #tabletopgaming #tcg #ccg #dungeonsanddragons #pathfinder #Liandra #BeProfessional

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Bye-Bye Berries (short story)

Webstripe was far away enough that the Streamlands in which he resided in were no longer in view. The hot steam that formed within it faded away, and he fluffed out his striped coat against the chill of the rest of the Dark Forest, glaring at the sky as a rise in wind pinched at his skin.

It would only be a short trip to the border to fetch minnows and back, or it would be if the distance from his land to the border wasn’t practically sixteen Clan territories apart. Then the wind, blowing from behind his back, stopped. Webstripe was relieved until he felt something furry press against him. “Hello little Web.”

Webstripe didn’t move, just barely gulped. “Uhm. Hello Bristleblaze.”

“Heard you got another cat knocked up.”

“Oh, did I?” Webstripe’s heart sped. Whenever cats started conversations like that, it never ended well for Webstripe. And Bristleblaze was huge!

“A lonely one,” Bristleblaze grunted. “Who probably didn’t mention that she’s my friend.” 

Oh no. Oh no oh no. Webstripe took a step away, slowly and praying that it wouldn’t be noticed. But while he was watching Bristleblaze over his shoulder, a cold paw touched his own, outstretched one, and his head snapped back to meet Avery. 

“Mine too,” the ginger-and-white tom said. 

Webstripe looked at one then the other, then repeated again. “She-cats come to me, alright? They want kits!--Ahh!”

Bristleblaze had dug his claws into Webstripe’s tail “They also tend to want a loving mate and father to their kits,” he spoke calmly, but the tone of a snarl rolled off of his tongue just the same as if it had rumbled through his throat. 

Webstripe’s fear and defensiveness grew. He bristled. “What do you want me to do? Cats have urges! They choose to come to me!”

“For love, not a hit-it and quit-it,” Avery grunted.

A paw slammed down harder onto Webstripe’s tail. He screeched, and instinctively jumped, but couldn’t go anywhere. Before he could complain or try to fight back, Avery had moved forward and placed his claws on Webstripe’s lower belly. “You’re right,” he said dangerously. “Some cats do come to you. Sometimes they do it because they don’t care, or you’re nothing more than a method of getting kits, but sometimes–most of the time, I think, you trick them.”

“I don’t–”

“You know what he’s talking about, so shut up,” Bristleblaze cut in.

Webstripe snapped his jaws shut.

“You say that you don’t, but you do. You allow them to fall for you. You do things with them and don’t even warn them that you won’t stick around if something happens. You don’t even break it to them gently. You just leave. You do it all the time. Do you enjoy it? Hurting them? Breaking their hearts?”

“I–”

But they didn’t really want him to speak. Bristleblaze cuffed his ear roughly, making it ring.

“So how about a deal?” Avery suggested. “You stick to toms and she-cats who have made it clear that they don’t want you to stick around if anything happens. And if we find out that another she-cat got knocked up thinking that their mate would be there to support them–” he dug his claws in deeper–”It’s bye-bye berries.”

=========================

--Wrote it more seriously than I normally write joke stories!

--Avery and Bristle belong to @ambitiousauthor

--Web belongs to @starfalcon555

--The baby-maker has to fight with the nut-slayer at some point, right? And we can’t just get rid of all babies for Web. That’s his whole thing. But this seems reasonable, right? Hopefully he won’t do something stupid, right?

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

“ABORT FUCKING MISSION!”

Lampreypelt barely had time to jump back before Webstripe barreled down the incline in a tangle of puffed up fur.

The brown tom- Dustheart- narrowed his eyes.

“Who the hell-“

“Lemme guess, your name’s ‘Dust’ something?”

Lampreypelt perked up. When Webstripe knew something ahead of time, it usually meant some shit was going either down, sideways, or, more rarely, both.

Dustheart nodded, and Webstripe nodded.

“Good, good, you need to get the fuck out of here.” For emphasis, Webstripe bristled the fur along his spine.

“What-!?”

“We do not want someone like you in this group. So piss off before whoever you pissed off comes calling.” He punctuated the sentence by swatting the tom until Dustheart backed away, looking confused and enraged.

When the tom was out of earshot, Lampreypelt tilted his head.

“One of your hunches, or an actual tip this time?”

Webstripe shuddered.

“You should thank whatever star still shines on you that I get those ‘tips’”

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

He almost missed the two shadows.

That would’ve been the first and last mistake of interacting with… that one.

Webstripe tried to avoid mentioning their name.

“Well met.”

A single twitch of the whiskers.

“There will be a storm soon. A dust cloud full of filth and shit, heading straight to the heart of your haven.”

They paused, and Webstripe nodded.

“Bad cat, probably a brown tom?”

Wordweaver purred and nodded.

“The storm seeks shelter from its own fallout, and will nestle against your ‘group’ if left unchecked.”

They took a long, slow breath. “Should the storm be allowed to the heart of your haven, your collective pelts will decorate each thorn and snag from here to the Sward.”

Webstripe gulped.

“Got it. We won’t let him in.”

Wordweaver nodded, twin shadows falling over Webstripe’s paws.

“I only warned you because you provide a service to this place. Even if you are a piece of shit.”

“Y’know what? Rude but fair.”

Notes-

- forgot if I submitted this or not lol

--------

@starfalcon555 I guess they won't let Dustheart join if their lives are on the line

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

First Place (short story)

“Martenstep! Nettledeer! Wait up!” Furzeflower called out, panting as he struggled to catch up to his friends.

Nettledeer simply smirked at Furzeflower as he bounded over the crudely drawn line in the dirt. “Last place again? You really need to step up your game.” he gloated playfully.

Martenstep simply rolled his eyes and cuffed Nettledeer on the ear, earning a yelp from the yellow and brown tom. “Come on, Nettie, go easy on the guy.” Martenstep chided Nettledeer. “Furzeflower’s older than us, and he’s put on a lot of weight lately.”

Furzeflower blushed and looked down at his rounded stomach. He had been growing plumper as of late, but he didn’t think he was getting fat enough for his friends to notice. And it wasn’t like he had been eating more than usual lately either. Come to think of it, he had only started putting on the weight just three moons ago, after his… encounter… with Webstripe…

Furzeflower flinched and shoved down the memories of the silvery-white tabby tom away. No use thinking about him. It was a one-time thing and a one-time thing only.

Nettledeer looked at Furzeflower guiltily. “Sorry, Furzeflower.” he apologized shamefully.

“You’re fine.” Furzeflower chuckled.

Martenstep smiled. “Let’s go, shall we?”

Nettledeer nodded, and the two turned around and began to bound back to their dens. Furzeflower turned to follow them… but then he felt a sharp pain lance through his stomach. A grunt of surprise escaped his mouth.

“…Furzeflower? Are you alright?” Martenstep called out, craning his head to look back at his friend with concern.

“I’m fi-” Furzeflower attempted to reassure Martenstep, but he was cut of by another lancing pain in his stomach, this one strong enough to make him dig his claws into the dirt to keep himself from falling over.

“Furzeflower!” Martenstep bounded over, Nettledeer closely behind him. Both cats’ eyes were rounded with worry.

“I-” Furzeflower once again tried to comfort his friends, but yet another lancing pain shot its way through his stomach. This one was the strongest one yet, and he collapsed on his side with a yowl of pain. From there, the lancing pains became more and more rapid, and all he could do was stare up at Martenstep and Nettledeer in pure terror. They were now talking to each other, but the pain was so strong was that he could barely hear them.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“What else could it be, you mousebrain?”

“But he’s so ol-”

“THAT DOESN’T MATTER RIGHT NOW! We need to find Myrtlewing, NOW!”

That was the last thing Furzeflower heard before he blacked out.

~~~~

“See, guys? I told you he’d be fine! It’s amazing what our bodies can do, really… Oh! Looks like he’s coming to!”

Furzeflower slowly came to, blinking his eyes groggily and looking up as his vision unblurred. Five cats were surrounding him - Martenstep, Nettledeer, Cloverfox, Clawbear, and in the center of them all, Myrtlewing. Furzeflower’s friends looked at him with a mix of emotions clouding their eyes, while Myrtlewing simply smirked at him knowingly.

“Furzeflower! You’re alright!” Cloverfox cried out, surging towards him and licking the top of his forehead. Furzeflower simply took it with confusion.

“Hello, Furzeflower.” Myrtlewing greeted, his disembodied head swaying back and forth. “Did you have a nice nap?” he joked, exposing sharp, bloodstained teeth. Martenstep cuffed the medicine cat on the ear, while Clawbear tried his best to stifle a loud laugh and failed miserably.

“What… happened…?” Furzeflower slurred, looking back and forth in a daze while letting his senses come back to him. His insides felt like they had been torn into shreds, and he could smell… milk??? Where was that coming from?

“You started complaining of stomach pains and blacked out after our race.” Martenstep explained gently, curling his tail around his paws as he did so. “Nettledeer and I brought you to Myrtlewing’s den, and Cloverfox and Clawbear joined when they heard what was happening.”

“I just wanted to play with the kits.” Clawbear pouted, exposing his massive front teeth as he did so. Nettledeer swatted his ear gently.

Wait… did Clawbear just say… kits?!

Furzeflower suddenly registered the tiny mewling of kits and the kneading of tiny paws at his belly. He shifted his body upwards, trying his best to ignore the storm of pain that overtook his body as he did so, and looked down at his belly

What he saw made his heart explode.

Three kits were nestled snugly at his belly, suckling furiously and occasionally squeaking and shoving each other out of the way. There was a dark brown kit with a black stripe running down its back, black paws, and a black tail, a light gray tabby kit, and a ginger and white kit. Tiny, perfect, and undeniably his.

“Congratulations, Furzeflower.” Myrtlewing announced with a giggle. “You’re a father now.”

Furzeflower almost wanted to laugh. It was so painfully obvious in hindsight. But he couldn’t force a single sound to come out of his mouth. All he could do was stare down at his children - his children! - with his mouth agape and his heart threatening to burst.

“I know that feeling well.” Cloverfox chuckled, rubbing her cheek against Furzeflower’s with a loud purr. “I felt exactly the same when I had my little ones.” She looked away, the sadness of memories long passed clouding her eyes.

“I… I…” Furzeflower was at a complete and total loss for words. He instead chose to lean down and run his tongue over his kits. They stilled briefly as the bristles of his tongue touched their fur, before returning to suckling at a much slower and calmer pace, the feeling of their father’s tongue clearly having a comforting effect on them. Once again, his heart nearly threatened to burst.

“Gotta say,” Nettledeer broke the silence, “I wasn’t expecting you to hook up with Webstripe, of all cats.” he chuckled.

Furzeflower finally tore his gaze away from his kits to stare up at Nettledeer with shock. “Wha- how- no- you-” he stammered, his face flushing red. Nettledeer and Clawbear simply snickered. 

“It’s kind of obvious.” Martenstep admitted. “The tabby looks just like him, just a darker shade of gray.” Cloverfox nodded in agreement.

Furzeflower looked down at his kits again. Martenstep was right - the tabby’s stripes looked exactly like Webstripe’s. Furzeflower wasn’t going to let that bother him, though. He’d love his children until the day he faded, no matter what or who they looked like.

“Got any ideas for names?” Myrtlewing asked. “If it helps, the brown one and the gray tabby one are toms, and the ginger and white one is a she-cat.”

Two sons and a daughter. It took all of Furzeflower’s energy to not burst into tears of joy right there and then. He looked down at his kits again, then back up at Myrtlewing. “I have the perfect names.” he announced pridefully.

Truth be told, he had been preparing for this day since before he had even died. He’d never thought he’d be able to get to use the names he had spent so long planning. His friends’ ears perked up in curiosity.

Furzeflower looked down at his kits. “Birchkit,” he announced, running his tongue over the brown and black tom, who purred and snuggled up closer to his father’s belly. “Smokekit”, he continued, running his tongue over the light gray tabby tom, who squeaked in protest. “And Foxkit.” he finished, running his tongue over the ginger and white tabby she-cat, who slapped his belly with her paw in retaliation.

“After me?” Cloverfox gasped, blushing furiously. “Furzeflower, you shouldn’t have!” Furzeflower only had the strength to lightly bat at his friend with a playful purr.

“Great names!” Myrtlewing complimented Furzeflower, before turning to the other four cats. “Now, I think you should probably leave. It’s getting crowded in here, and I think you all should give Furzeflower some privacy. He’s had a long day, after all.”

“No fair!” Clawbear complained with another massive pout. Cloverfox simply chuckled and led the large brown tabby tom out of the den, Martenstep following them shortly after.

Nettledeer started to follow them, but Furzeflower interrupted him. “Nettledeer?” he called out.

Nettledeer turned to look at his friend curiously.

“I may have come last place in our race,” Furzeflower laughed, “but I definitely came first place overall.” He shifted his paw, accidentally brushing up against Birchkit’s ear, who began to wail loudly. Furzeflower immediately pulled his son closer to him and began to lick him, whispering words of comfort as he did so.

Nettledeer watched the scene unfold in front of him and chuckled. “You certainly did, buddy.” he laughed, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he called out before slinking out of the den.

Furzeflower’s mind was still spinning at a million miles per hour, but he continued to focus on consoling Birchkit, exhaling with relief as the little brown and black tom relaxed, dozing off in between his father’s paws.

With a chuckle, Furzeflower picked up Smokekit and Barkkit and gently placed them next to their brother, cradling all three of his children in his paws. As he watched them snooze gently, his heart threatened to burst wide open for what felt like the millionth time that day. He ran his tongue over the kits one more time. “Good night, my little champions.” he murmured softly, before lowering his head and drifting off to sleep, happier than he had been in moons.

Notes:

-Made Clawbear the fifth member of the friend group because I think he deserves more love and also because I can

-Foxkit’s prefix being the same as Cloverfox’s suffix was a giant coincidence! I imagine these were names for kits Furzeflower came up with with either Firetooth or Spottedbark, back when he was still alive, ofc :3

-Hopefully I got all of their personalities right!

========================

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okay now that my feelings are out of the way, the reviews:

--SO FRICKEN CUTE

--Aw Cloverfox

--Myrtle’s evil and professional personalities were perfectly shown and balanced here!

--Damn, Furze was unconscious while giving birth? Lucky son of a b

--I imagine Smoke, as stated, has the exact same stripes as Webstripe and the only difference is there’s some more spots (and/or maybe some of the stripes are broken up into pieces?)

--Myrtle waving his head like a Jack-in-The-Box

--Claw’s gonna be SUCH a fun uncle when the kits are old enough

--Got more feelings to express. Hang on, 

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[residents-of-the-darkforest]

To Rid of The Sister (part 1) (short story)

“Get your stinking foot off my tail!” Whistletooth hissed, swiping a claw at Horsejaw. In response, the red-tinged brown tom growled and bit the air a whisker away from Whistletooth’s face. 

“I can tread where I want,” Horsejaw spat. “I’m one of the leaders here, don’t forget!”

Whistletooth curled his lip. Shortly after joining the Dark Forest–a fact that had him, while not surprised, irritated–he was offered a place to stay by a white tom named Webstripe, who apparently was the leader of the group in The Streamlands, where they resided. Whistletooth thought that Webstripe seemed a bit wimpy for a leader, but he wasn’t interested in taking his place, so he let it be. Besides, the tom was the first and only one to approach Whistletooth, making him as close to a friend as Whistletooth could have.

Horsejaw, however, was a different story. He took his high rank with pride, even though it wasn’t really a rank. They were no Clan, just a group of like-minded Dark Forest warriors who called themselves ‘leader’ and ‘deputies.’ 

Even moreso, Horsejaw wasn’t a killer. His eyes were yellow, not red, and that meant that he was weaker than Whistletooth. 

“I’ve heard enough wailing for today” Webstripe cut into their argument, padding forward. “Seriously, can anyone here finish a conversation without drawing blood?”

Whistletooth ducked his head. He wasn’t about to get himself kicked out. The dens here were too warm. “Sorry if I like my tail pristine.”

“Pristine?” Horsejaw snorted. “I can’t tell it from your face.”

Whistletooth whipped back around, ready to jump. 

Webstripe stepped between them. “Would you two give my ears some peace and quiet?” He turned to Horsejaw. “Dark’s sake, shut up before I remind you of that horse.” Horsejaw didn’t respond, only wrinkled his snout. Webstripe looked to Whistletooth. “Go on a walk or something. Or fight, just as long as it’s away from here where I’m trying to sleep.”

Whistletooth eyed Horsejaw as Webstripe padded away back to his den, half-expecting Horsejaw to take that last suggestion. He dug his unsheathed claws into the rocky ground. He would fight if it came to that. But Horsejaw only smirked and walked away. Glaring after him, Whistletooth whirled around and stormed off.

As rocky ground faded into sucking mud, he focused on the red pulling at his fur. If he couldn’t do anything about his anger, he didn’t want to focus on it, but even so it prodded at his brain so much that he was beginning to get a headache. Horsejaw had acted as though, no, he believed that he was better than Whistletooth. Whistletooth wanted so much to prove that that wasn’t true, that Whistletooth was the superior. But in strength, Horsejaw was the better. 

Whistletooth’s skills came in his intelligence, an expert manipulator. But after spending most of his life manipulating two cats, he wasn’t about to do it again, not to someone who would also likely take a long time to do. So Whistletooth could do nothing but stew in his own anger, stomping around like a kit throwing a tantrum.

Then something caught his eye that washed any thoughts of Horsejaw away completely. He thought that maybe it was a trick of the light, but no, it was very much real. She was very much real, her dark brown fur and black splotches just as coarse and gross as he remembered them to be. 

His sister was here.

==========================

Next: https://at.tumblr.com/residents-of-the-darkforest/to-rid-of-the-sister-part-2-short-story/ijt673fnnrci

==========================

@starfalcon555

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Dark Forest Residences: Crowpaw & Weaselpaw

Crowpaw

Aliases / Nicknames: Slimy Crow, Spoiled Brat, Lazy Brat 

Gender: tom 

Sexuality: heterosexual 

Family: Finchblaze (mother), Stormpuddle (father), Petalpaw (sister), Weaselpaw (brother), 

Other Relations: Darkfrost (first mentor), Webstripe (second mentor), Hailstrike (third mentor) 

Clan: BushClan 

Rank: apprentice 

Characteristics: snarky, lazy, misogynistic, looks up to his brother and Webstripe

Murder Motive: kills those who talked bad about Webstripe, kills to impress Webstripe 

Number of Victims: 8 

Number of Murders: 8 

Murder Method: forcing others to choke on moss, biting necks 

Known Victims: Bearpaw, Maplepaw, Hawkpaw, Cloudmane, Juniperleap, Smokefleck, Adderlight, Hailstrike 

Victim Profile: apprentices and elders who talked badly about Webstripe, his third mentor 

Cause of Death: impaled through the eye/skull with a branch, killed by Petalpaw 

Cautionary Tale: Even temporary mentors must be chosen wisely--just a little bad influence may irreversibly change an apprentice's life 

Story: 

Webstripe was the best mentor Weaselpaw and Crowpaw could have ever asked for!

They had never been too fond of their original mentors, Firefeather and Darkfrost. Firefeather was a loud and stupid oaf of a cat, and Darkfrost was nothing more than a spineless coward. And they were both weak, preferring to obsess over their mates and their new kits! 

Why did queens deserve so much respect anyways? They were useless! All they did was sit around and pop out kits! Why couldn't they have gotten mentors who actually cared about the Clan? 

StarClan must have been listening to their prayers, because soon their wish was granted. Crowpaw was freed first. 

Darkfrost's stupid spawn had all been killed by a hawk, and the weakling was so caught up in grief that he was killed in a battle with OceanClan a mere week later. Crowpaw was giddy as is, but then Fennelstar did something right for once in her life and made Webstripe Crowpaw's new mentor. 

Weaselpaw and Crowpaw had both wanted Webstripe for their mentor initially--he was independent, dedicated to the Clan, and put she-cats in their place. Crowpaw's dream had finally come true! He was so happy, he didn't even care that Darkfrost's idiotic mate Redflower died in her sleep of a broken heart the next day. They could be happily useless and idiotic in StarClan together, for all Crowpaw cared. 

And Weaselpaw didn't have to wait long either, for just a mere moon later, history repeated itself. Firefeather's useless spawn were all killed by a fox, and Firefeather succumbed to grief so bad he was killed in a battle against OceanClan not long after! Weaselpaw was worried about getting another lame mentor, but then brave, noble Webstripe offered to mentor him as well. The brothers were very close, after all, and with the war killing so many cats, they were short on mentors anyways. Webstripe was more than happy to ease the burden of picking a new mentor for Fennelstar. 

The brothers were overjoyed to have the same mentor, one they had looked up to since kithood. 

They were so happy, they didn't even care that Firefeather's mate Briarclaw died in her sleep of a broken heart the very next day, like her sister Redflower before her. 

They were all useless anyways. 

Webstripe was the perfect mentor. He was everything Weaselpaw and Crowpaw could have asked for. He made them feel respected and powerful, and validated all of their thoughts on their old mentors. 

Real toms didn't have time for she-cats. Only those who focused on themselves were worthy of being true Clan cats. 

Those four moons were the best moons of Weaselpaw and Crowpaw's life. Nothing could ruin this for them! 

They were proven wrong in the worst way possible one fateful noon-high in Greenleaf, when a soaking wet Sunnyheart strolled into camp, grasping the limp, bloody body of a silvery-white tabby in her jaws. 

Webstripe was dead. 

Weaselpaw and Crowpaw thought it couldn't get any worse, but then Sunnyheart called a Clan meeting and revealed to the Clan how Webstripe was the one to kill Darkfrost, Redflower, Firefeather, Briarclaw, their kits, and Sunnyheart's own kits--Webstripe's nieces and nephew. She spoke of how jealous Webstripe was of the toms, how much he lusted over the she-cats, how he was so in love with Sunnyheart in particular, so jealous of his own brother, Thistletail, that he killed their kits and almost killed Thistletail too. 

Overnight, Webstripe turned from one of the most beloved cats in BushClan, a contender for deputy, into a reviled and hated tom, the butt of every joke. It made Weaselpaw and Crowpaw seethe with anger. It wasn't fair! Why couldn't they see that Webstripe was trying to do the Clan a favor by getting rid of soft hearted-toms and useless queens? 

And to rub salt in the wound, Fennelstar made Berrymoon and Hailstrike Weaselpaw and Crowpaw's new mentors. Two she-cats. Did Fennelstar think they were jokes? What was she thinking, making two she-cats their new mentors?

It had to be part of some kind of agenda, to humiliate them for daring to still care about Webstripe! 

Weaselpaw and Crowpaw had been mulling over these thoughts when their younger denmates, Bearpaw, Hawkpaw, and Maplepaw, came strolling in like they owned the world. They were laughing and talking about how much of a loser Webstripe was, how they always thought he was a weird loner of a tom. 

Weaselpaw and Crowpaw snapped. 

Nobody appreciated Webstripe anymore. 

They would make them all pay for not appreciating him anymore. 

They would show Webstripe that there was someone out there who still appreciated him. 

They were surprised they weren't caught, what with how loudly they ripped up the moss and how loudly those weaklings screamed. But not even seeing the siblings' father wail over their cold bodies was enough to satisfy Weaselpaw and Crowpaw. It only made them angrier. There were weaklings still to be removed. And the message hand't gotten through yet. 

Berrymoon and Hailstrike had forced Weaselpaw and Crowpaw to go give moss to the elders. They stood their ground, not wanting to be bossed around by she-cats, but relented when they threatened to tell their parents. So they stomped into the den, planning to just drop the moss down and call it a day. The elders could do it themselves, after all. They shouldn't be so lazy just because they were old. 

Instead, they stumbled into a conversation between Cloudmane, Juniperleap, Smokefleck, and Adderlight. A conversation about Webstripe. 

Smokefleck and Adderlight were calling Webstripe so many awful names, and Cloudmane and Juniperleap were trying to tell them that Webstripe was already getting what he deserved in the Dark Forest. How dare they say that?! Webstripe should be celebrated in StarClan for his deeds! It was them who weren't getting what they deserved! 

Thankfully, with how fragile they were, it was much easier to shove the moss down their throats. But the message still wasn't getting through. Their efforts weren't being appreciated at all, least of all by Berrymoon and Hailstrike. 

They had the gall to take Weaselpaw and Crowpaw out for solo training and reveal that they knew what they had done, and that they were done putting up with this behavior. 

As soon as they finished talking, Berrymoon and Hailstrike were going to tell Fennelstar everything, and Weaselpaw and Crowpaw would never become warriors. In the heat of the moment, Weaselpaw and Crowpaw had to improvise. 

But they still pulled it off. 

They waited until Berrymoon and Hailstrike had turned their backs to return to camp before leaping at them and sinking their teeth into their necks. It was a move Webstripe had taught them. They hoped they were making him proud. 

Unfortunately, Weaselpaw and Crowpaw had forgotten to account for one thing. 

Their stupid spoiled brat of a sister, Petalpaw, was taking her warrior exam at the same time as their little "talk" with their "mentors,” and the smell of fresh blood brought her into the clearing just in time for her to catch Weaselpaw and Crowpaw red-pawed. 

They thought they could take her down easily, her being a weak little she-cat and all. 

Oh, how wrong they were. 

Weaselpaw

Aliases / Nicknames: Slimy Weasel, Spoiled Brat, Dumb Brat 

Gender: tom 

Sexuality: heterosexual 

Family: Finchblaze (mother), Stormpuddle (father), Petalpaw (sister), Crowpaw (brother) 

Other Relations: Firefeather (first mentor), Webstripe (second mentor), Berrymoon (third mentor) 

Clan: BushClan 

Rank: apprentice 

Characteristics: dumb, arrogant, misogynistic, close with his brother, looks up to Webstripe

Murder Motive: kills those who talked bad about Webstripe, kills to impress Webstripe 

Number of Victims: 8 

Number of Murders: 8 

Murder Method: forcing others to choke on moss, biting necks 

Known Victims: Bearpaw, Maplepaw, Hawkpaw, Cloudmane, Juniperleap, Smokefleck, Adderlight, Berrymoon 

Victim Profile: apprentices and elders who talked bad about Webstripe, his third mentor 

Cause of Death: impaled through the skull with a large rock, killed by Petalpaw 

Cautionary Tale: Even temporary mentors should be chosen wisely--just a little bad influence may irreversibly change an apprentice's life.

Story:

See Crowpaw.

Additional Information: 

--Submission by @starfalcon555​

 --From Star: “I had to mess with the timeline of Wesbtripe's story a little to make this work, so now Webstripe's first two litter-victims were born at the same time and killed one moon apart! I also retconed Redflower and Briarclaw to be sisters to make it work - they were the kind of sisters that had to do everything together, including having kits lol.” 

--Bearpaw, Hawkpaw, and Maplepaw were all names they originally considered for Weaselpaw, Crowpaw, and Petalpaw, hence them being littermates too. Their father is Sunnyheart's brother, hence why they were so keen to talk shit about Webstripe. 

Smokefleck was Darkfrost's father, and Adderlight was Firefeather's mother, hence why they were so keen to talk shit about Webstripe. 

Cloudmane and Juniperleap were mates, and they were the parents of Berrymoon and Hailstrike, hence why Berry and Hail were able to figure out so quickly that Weaselpaw and Crowpaw were behind their murders. 

--Weaselpaw and Crowpaw were seventeen moons old when they died, their warrior ceremonies being delayed to the constant changes in mentorship as well as them being brats who didn't put in work. 

Petalpaw's mentor was Thistletail, and her own warrior ceremony was delayed due to Thistletail's coma causing her to fall behind in training. She wasn't close to Weaselpaw and Crowpaw at all - they bullied her a lot as kits - but she still cared for them and always hoped they would change somehow. She only killed Weaselpaw and Crowpaw out of self-defense (she was trying to use the rock and the branch to shield herself) and she regretted killing them until the day she died. 

--Petalpaw’s warrior name isn’t known yet, but she becomes Thistlestar's second deputy after Sunnyheart's passing!

--BITCHES BITCHES BITCHES. You knew once you saw ‘misogynistic’ that they were gonna be SHITFACES.

And you KNOW they’re gonna get their asses handed to them in the DF. That attitude will not fly.

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

First Word (short story)

It should have been a happy moment.

It was the moment all parents look forward to and never forget. 

Harekit was the first. She was the first of her litter to do everything, to wobble, to open her eyes, to babble, and now, to talk. It had been unexpected, but first words tend to be. Birchflight was resting on her side, purring while the kits tussled clumsily at her belly. Foxfire had been laying, half-asleep with his chin on her shoulder, while Gorseheart groomed Emberdawn’s head-fur. 

Harekit then broke apart from her brothers, wobbling clumsily over to Gorseheart and Emberdawn, who smiled warmly down on her. Harekit looked like she wanted to communicate, and they had all expected babble. 

Gorseheart’s heart froze.

“Da.”

She had said “Da.”

Everyone cooed, cheering as loud as they could without frightening the kits. Foxfire jerked his head up, ears perked and smiling widely. Birchflight’s pupils dilated, and Emberdawn lowered her chin to the floor to level with Harekit. Harekit was blinking expectantly at Gorseheart, completely unaware that she had done anything worthwhile at all. She only wanted his attention.

Gorseheart loved her, he loved her with all of his heart. But in all the preparation for new kits, he hadn’t been ready for how this moment would make him feel. Without a word, he hurried away, ducking through the tunnel and bounding a couple tail-lengths across the ground before stopping abruptly. 

Immediately, he regretted leaving. Harekit must be so confused. He wondered if she was crying now because he had ignored her and left, yet he couldn’t bring himself to go back. Not yet. He needed a little time. 

“What was that?” a gentle voice asked. Foxfire padded over to join him. 

“I’m sorry,” Gorseheart’s own voice shook. “Is she okay?”

“Perfectly.” His eyes lit up, likely thinking about Harekit’s first word. “You don’t seem to be. They may be small as mice, but you don’t need to be scared when they talk!”

Gorseheart wiped his paw over his nose. “It just reminded me of something, is all.”

Foxfire frowned. “Must be something pretty bad. I’ve never seen someone run away when their kit says their first word. Oh yeah, Webstripe!” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood.

Gorseheart huffed a laugh, appreciating him for it. But he was still unsteady, needing to dig his claws into the ground to keep himself up.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Foxfire offered, laying his tail over Gorseheart’s. Gorseheart thought about it, then shook his head. The time would come to tell Foxfire and Birchflight about Jaykit, but now didn’t feel like the time. He didn’t want to spill his feelings right now, especially not without Emberdawn wanting to talk about it too. He just wanted to suppress it, at least for now, and go back to the kits. Harekit had said a word for the first time. Now was the time to celebrate.

“Come on,” He said, picking a soft, wilting daisy from the ground. “Harekit should get a gift.”

He led the way back into the den, grateful to see Harekit sleeping in Emberdawn’s paws with her brothers, and not crying as he had been expecting, in spite of Foxfire’s reassurances.

“Is everything okay?” Birchflight asked in a mixture of confusion and concern, curled in a ball against Emberdawn’s belly. Emberdawn’s eyes met Gorseheart’s, much more knowing. 

“Yeah, just a scare,” Gorseheart told them. Curling between them all, he was grateful when they didn’t say anything more, moving the conversation instead to what they thought Adderkit’s and Larkkit’s first words would be. Gorseheart resolved to react better when that time came, and hoped that he would be better prepared.

===================================

--Reminder that Jaykit died shortly after saying his first word, which was ‘da.’

--Emberdawn is still pregnant at this point, probably close to giving birth.

@starfalcon555​

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Made a family tree for Lavendermoon, Thornsong, Splashstrike, and their Dark Families now that I've solidified what their story's going to be about!

Patch Notes (what's changed from the Webstripe family tree):

-Added Firedawn's parents, Squirrelpounce and Blizzardface, and his littermates, his sister Puddlegorse and his brother Hickorypetal! Their names being grayed out is totally not foreshadowing of what landed Lavendermoon, Thornsong, and Splashstrike in the DF 😗😗😗

-Added a third kit to the BeechThorn litter, Blizzardkit!

-Changed Puddlekit's gender to female

-Added a third kit to the LizardSplash litter, Squirrelkit!

👁

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

for additional context on how painful this family tree undertaking will be, here is the one last night I made for the PMD story

one less partner than the Webster and like a third of the kids, and it looks this bad

imagine how Webstripe's is going to look

please pray for my hands, my eyes, and my sanity

rip

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Who are all the members of the shitbag gang / steamlands? The more hated the better - @wills-woodland-warriors

Here's a helpful list Starfalcon made!

[wills-woodland-warriors]

is this story perhaps related to your query about whether or not I would be okay with you giving Webstripe more kits

possibly :D but first the family has to suffer because I love angst

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

thank you now I will be working on a Webstripe family tree with these added characters :ded:

will probably still be easier to understand than the family tree I made yesterday for a PMD story I'm planning

rip your sanity