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talonslockau · 8 months ago

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Forest of Secrets - Chapter 27

Chapter 26 || Index || Chapter 28

Fireheart’s spirits were lower than ever as he trailed behind Dustleap on patrol along the Twolegplace border. It was close to a quarter-moon since Bluestar had refused to listen to him about Tigerclaw, and still none of them had come up with a plan to stop the traitorous tabby from killing her for control of the Clan. Every night, his dreams were tormented by wails of anguish from Tigerclaw’s victims, and every new dawn that came without any ideas felt like a personal failure.

He glanced at his other two patrolmates, Tinyfrost and Brackenpaw. His old mentor seemed lost in his own thoughts, while the new apprentice was focused on the path ahead with admirable determination. Technically, Tinyfrost was supposed to be the one leading the patrol, as he was the senior warrior among them; however, he had let Dustleap take the lead as a teaching opportunity for his apprentice.

The patrol was largely silent except for the occasional comment by Dustleap, which made it easy for Fireheart to get lost in his thoughts as he stared off into the cold, empty forest. He continued to tread the same paths in his mind, trying to figure out what he was missing, what he hadn’t yet spotted that would make all the difference in their fight to save the Clan. No matter how hard he thought, it was always the same: there was nothing he could do to stop Tigerclaw before it was too late.

“What’s that?” Brackenpaw’s gentle mew startled him slightly, the first he had heard the young tabby speak. All three of the warriors paused to see him focusing up ahead, swiveling and perking their ears in tandem to figure out what had caught the apprentice’s attention.

For a moment, Fireheart wondered if perhaps the apprentice was referring to something ordinary that he hadn’t seen before, like a woodpecker or an evergreen tree. Instead, his blood ran cold after he heard the unmistakable call of his sister.

“Fireheart! Fireheart, where are you?” Her voice floated through the still leafbare air, and it wasn’t long before the other cats in the patrol turned to him.

“It sounds like someone calling your name.” Brackenpaw observed softly. “Do you know who it is?”

He hesitated, not sure what to say. He’d told Princess not to ever enter the forest, not even in search of him. Why was she breaking that rule now, and why did it have to be while he was on patrol with the others? “I can’t tell from here.” Fireheart deflected, quickening his pace. As much as he wished the others would stay behind, he could hear them crunching away behind him in the snow, going off the well-worn patrol path into the deeper woods.

It didn’t take him long to find her, stumbling along in the woods without a clue where she was going. Fireheart paused for a brief moment, knowing all too well that the other warriors would see any sign of familiarity as a betrayal of the code. Then, he realized, it was already too late - Princess had been calling his Clan name, one that had only been given to him when he was supposed to have abandoned the Twolegplace entirely for several seasons.

“Princess.” He mewed to alert her to his presence before stepping out to press into her side. “You should be resting in your housefolks’ nest. What are you doing out here?”

She turned her warm green eyes to him, and for a brief heartbeat the tension he felt from his three Clanmates behind him melted away. “Fireheart! I knew you’d come.” She mewed, returning his greeting and twining her tail with his briefly. She tossed her head defiantly at his question. “I’m leaving them, Fireheart. I’ll never go back to that nest again!”

“Fireheart? Do you know this… kittypet?” He ignored Dustleap’s question behind him, instead focusing on his sister next to him. Her belly was swollen with kits now, just like Goldenflower’s had been less than a quarter-moon before she’d kitted. It was dangerous for her to be out here in this cold, he worried to himself.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving them?” Fireheart asked her incredulously. “What about your kits? They need somewhere safe, and warm-”

“My kits are why I’m doing this.” Princess interrupted him firmly before he could finish speaking. “I won’t let my kits grow up to be used like my housefolk used me. I want to give them a better life, where they have the freedom to choose their own paths.” She fixed him with a hard, determined stare. “I want to join Thunderclan.”

Fireheart wheezed slightly at her statement. Life in the Clans was difficult, and he suddenly wondered if he had given her a rosier depiction of his life as a warrior than he’d intended by avoiding telling her the whole truth about what was happening. “Princess, I-”

“A soft Twoleg toy like you could never make it in Thunderclan!” Dustleap yowled, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. “It’s not your decision whether or not this kittypet can stay, Fireheart. Get rid of that thing so we can finish this patrol.”

For a heartbeat, he genuinely considered Dustleap’s command. He was right, after all; Princess had never spent even a day outside of a Twoleg nest. How was she supposed to survive in the wild? But as he thought about it, the anger of all the taunts he had received from the spiteful tabby welled up within him. Ever since the first day he had joined Thunderclan, Dustleap had refused to believe a cat with kittypet blood could make it in the wild. He had been wrong then, and he was wrong now.

“You’re right, Dustleap.” Fireheart mewed, turning to the dark tabby that looked so much like his father. Dustleap’s look of smug superiority made his claws itch, but he kept them sheathed. “Unfortunately for you, it’s not your decision either. There’s only one cat in the Clan that can decide whether she stays, and that’s Bluestar.”

Seeing the smug look drop from Dustleap’s face was already reward enough. “But- She-” He sputtered out, turning to Tinyfrost in frustration.

Tinyfrost was as stoic as ever, his icy blue eyes hiding whatever he might be thinking. “Fireheart is right.” The small black tom finally mewed, even as Dustleap bristled angrily. “She has made a petition to join the Clan, and only the leader can decide whether to turn her away. This decision is in Bluestar’s paws now.”

Dustleap’s lip curled bitterly, but he knew he was outnumbered. “Fine. Brackenpaw, go and fetch-”

“It’s too cold out for that. She’ll surely freeze standing here before Brackenpaw can return.” Fireheart blinked in surprise as Tinyfrost spoke again. Was he also enjoying seeing Dustleap flounder like this? “We’ll have to take her back to camp with us.”

“Are you mad?” Dustleap growled, his yellow eyes darting angrily between the two former kittypet warriors. “Show her right to our camp? We might as well just invite the other Clans in for a tour while we’re at it!”

“She is my sister, not a spy.” Fireheart snapped back firmly at Dustleap, tired of the back and forth and mildly insulted by the implication. “Come on, Princess. Our camp is this way.”

If Dustleap said anything else, he didn’t hear it, instead walking into the forest towards camp, making sure to take a slow pace that his sister could follow. She seemed reluctant to follow, hesitating briefly, but it was only a few heartbeats before she was walking in time with him. “I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” She murmured gently to him. “I know you said that your Clanmates didn’t care for kittypets, but I-”

“Don’t worry about Dustleap. He’d find fault with you even if you grew wings and flew.” He glanced behind him to see that the other three cats were quickly catching up. “You didn’t get me in trouble, I promise.”

She was quiet for a few moments, and he glanced to make sure she wasn’t having trouble keeping pace. “I’m still sorry. I should have told you sooner, but I waited for you and you didn’t come…”

Fireheart winced slightly at that. He’d been meaning to visit her for several days now, but with everything happening with Tigerclaw, he’d been too worried about being followed. That seemed silly, now. “What’s happened has happened.” He replied simply, keeping his eyes on the forest ahead.

In truth, he’d longed to have family in the Clan with him - someone with whom he could share his struggles, and who he knew would always care for him even when times were tough. When they’d first met, he’d even offered for her to join alongside him - an offer he knew was rash and short-sighted, but he hadn’t cared then. He hadn’t had so much to care about then. Yet even though Fireheart hadn’t anticipated this, he couldn’t deny that he wanted her to stay now.

“If you’re going to be staying here, you might as well get to know everyone’s names.” Fireheart mewed after a moment, trying to lighten the tension. “You’ve already met Dustleap, of course. He’s a warrior, like I am. He just got his first apprentice, Brackenpaw - the smaller tabby there.”

He glanced back to see Dustleap glowering at him, while Brackenpaw ducked his head shyly at the mention of his name. He turned back to his sister with a purr. “The black tom is Tinyfrost. He was my mentor when I was an apprentice.”

His sister ogled the three cats behind them for a few heartbeats, then turned her gaze back to him. “Are- are you sure he’s not an apprentice too?” She did her best to whisper, but he could tell it still carried back to the other three from the hiss of indignation from the little warrior. “He- he’s just so small!” She added quickly, ducking her head apologetically.

“Well, he’s called Tinyfrost for a reason.” Fireheart chuffed, putting emphasis on the first part of his mentor’s name even as he felt the icy blue eyes boring a hole into his head. “Still, size isn’t everything. He’s one of the Clan’s best warriors, and he taught me everything I know today.” Certainly better than Tigerclaw, not that he dared to say that out loud with Dustleap right there.

“I see.” Princess mewed, nodding cordially back to where the other three were walking behind them. “Well, it’s nice to meet you all. I hope I’ll get to know you all better in time.”

He didn’t look to see their reactions, but he could tell from Dustleap’s low growls that he was only barely restraining himself from unleashing a torrent of derisive remarks. He satisfied himself with thinking of the notch in the tabby’s ear that he had left on his very first day in Thunderclan.

The trek back to camp was slow, and he could tell the others were getting impatient with the pace of travel. Still, Fireheart wasn’t about to rush his sister, especially with how swollen her belly was. He could tell even their slow walk was taking a toll on her, though she was determined to put up a front that she was fine, just as he had on his first trip to the Thunderclan camp.

As they finally reached the ravine, he flicked his ear in surprise as he heard one of the toms behind them rush past. It was Brackenpaw, racing into camp ahead of them. As Fireheart turned questioningly to the other two, Dustleap met his gaze with a condescending smirk. “He’s going to tell Bluestar about our little visitor.” He sneered at the former kittypet and his sister.

His stomach churned nervously at the thought of Bluestar. How would she react, especially after what had transpired between them? He blinked the thoughts away quickly. “That’s a good idea. I wouldn’t want to spring this on her suddenly.” He replied, watching Dustleap’s face scrunch up in anger at the praise. He had clearly been hoping to get a rise out of Fireheart, but he was not going to respond in such a petty manner in front of Princess.

He helped his sister down the slope, finding the bare patches of rock that she could hop on to prevent her from slipping. It felt like an eternity before he was finally showing her the bramble entrance of camp, and with a deep breath following her through the tunnel into the heart of Thunderclan.

Bluestar was already waiting for them next to Brackenpaw. “Fireheart.” She greeted him cordially, but her flicking tail tip and fiery glare told him how much trouble he was in. “Brackenpaw tells me you’ve brought your kittypet sister back to camp. Why?”

He stood tall in front of her, trying not to let himself be cowed by her anger. “Her name is Princess, and she wishes to join Thunderclan.” He beckoned her forward to stand beside him with his tail, even as his heart beat faster and faster. Surely Bluestar wouldn’t take her frustrations with him out on her? “Princess, this is Bluestar. She is Thunderclan’s leader, and it’s up to her whether or not you can stay.”

“It’s not just up to me.” He blinked in surprise at the leader’s sharp retort. “I thought you would have understood by now, Fireheart, that the actions of one cat affect the entire Clan. And it is up to the Clan to decide whether to accept a new member.” He watched her blue gaze flick over the form of his sister before turning and scaling up the Highrock. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

Even as her voice rang out, he could see faces cautiously appearing around camp - cats that had smelled his sister’s foreign scent and were curious what had happened. They came out of the shadows at her call, assembling beneath the shadow of the leader even as heads craned curiously towards his direction. Dustleap and Tinyfrost left to join them, leaving Fireheart alone with his sister.

“It is rare that an outsider comes to join Thunderclan. As you all know, Fireheart was the first such cat in many seasons to join the Clan. You have all seen him prove himself and earn his name; he has worked diligently to become a warrior just as any forest-born cat.” He scanned the crowd as she spoke, gauging their mood. Only Dustleap’s tail was lashing angrily; the rest seemed cautious but curious. “Now he has brought his sister from the Twolegplace, and claims she wishes to join Thunderclan.” Her blazing blue eyes turned on his sister. “Tell us, stranger; why should we allow you to join our noble ranks?”

Princess’ eyes flicked nervously to her brother beside her, and he nosed her cheek gently. “Speak the truth, whatever it may be.” He whispered to her. “I am sure they will see your passion, just as I have.”

She nodded and stepped forward nervously to gaze at the crowd. Most of the warriors and apprentices were still out on patrol, meaning that it was largely queens and elders that sat waiting to judge her. He hoped that they would show his sister the same courtesy they did him, but he also knew that they could be cantankerous and grumpy. What if they rejected her instead of listening?

“Cats of Thunderclan,” Princess mewed, soft at first, but slowly growing louder. “I am honored to finally meet the warriors I have heard so much about. Fireheart tells me that you are brave, and righteous, and honorable. Those are qualities I hope to instill in my own kits, one day.”

She glanced back at him, panic washing over her face for a moment. He nodded encouragingly, and she took a deep breath and looked back out at the gathered cats. “My brother has told me how strong the bonds within a Clan are. How you care for each other like family, and how you love…” She trailed off for a moment, glancing down at her paws. “Love is why I have come to you today. As you likely see, my belly is swollen with kits that are soon to be born. Like many kittypets, I did not love their father - I didn’t even know him. My mate was chosen for me by Twolegs.”

He heard a few gasps of shock in the crowd. “I have heard how different life is in the Clans. The freedom to roam your forest territories, the pleasure of tasting fresh kills, the choice to take whatever mate you choose - all of these are luxuries I do not have as a kittypet. And they are luxuries my kits will never have, if they are born in a Twoleg nest.” Her green eyes shimmered with stinging tears as she looked out at the crowd. “I want their lives to be different from mine. I want them to be better than mine. That is why I have come to ask to join your noble Clan.”

“I harbor no delusions about the difficulties of Clan life. I know how soft and comfortable my former life as a kittypet was.” She stood a little taller, straightening her shoulders slightly. “But if you would have me, I pledge my life and the lives of my kits to Thunderclan to serve as warriors. I will never return to the wretched Twolegs who would treat my life and the lives of my kits as a mere plaything. I promise that to each and every one of you.”

There was silence as she finished speaking, and he looked over the crowd carefully. Many were stoic and hard to read, like One-eye and Smallear. Others looked sympathetic, like Rosetail, but he wasn’t sure if it was enough to sway their opinions. Yellowfang and Dewpaw sat off to the side, but he knew better than to hope that they would interfere in Clan affairs on his behalf.

He held his breath, waiting for someone to break the silence. “Isn’t having one kittypet in the Clan enough?” His ears lowered as he heard Dustleap’s familiar yowl from amongst the crowd. “She’ll be nothing but a burden, eating all our food until she’s had her fill before returning to the Twolegplace. In the middle of leafbare, no less! We need to send this Twoleg toy back to where she belongs before we all starve.”

His eyes scanned the crowd desperately, but he could see a couple of the elders nodding agreement. “The Clan has enough mouths to feed already.” He heard Patchpelt call. “Dustleap’s right: the kindest thing we could do is send her back. She’s much too soft to live long in the wild.”

He looked over the crowd, his hope faltering. He could see his sister shrink back from the hostility, and as much as he longed to comfort her, there was no comfort he could give that would block out what was happening. It seemed the Clan had decided; Princess would not be allowed to join.

Just as he saw Bluestar open her mouth to speak, a voice rang out from the crowd. “You dare to call this queen soft?”

He blinked in confusion, searching the crowd for the source of the call. To his shock, Frostfur stood up, her blue eyes filled with a roaring fire as she looked at the cats around her. “Before us stands a queen that has just abandoned everything she knows to humbly submit herself to the whims of the Clan. Not only that, but she has offered her kits as thanks - to grow up as warriors, to defend the Clan and give their lives for us.”

The crowd parted to stare at her, all in shock of hearing her defend an outsider. “Any queen can tell you of the fierce love they have for their kits, even before they are born. We would do anything to give our kits the best chance they have at life.” The white queen turned to stare up at the leader. “I am sure even you, Bluestar, remember that feeling.”

“And yet despite that, this queen has left her warm nest, one that would surely protect her kits from any harm that might befall them.” Frostfur turned back to Princess and gave her a nod of respect. “She has braved the cold without complaint, has spoken to us from the depths of her heart, and is willing to give the greatest sacrifice a mother could give - and you dare to call that soft?”

Fireheart didn’t know what to say - and for a moment, it seemed like no one else in the Clan did either. At last, Bluestar composed herself. “Dappleshine? Speckleflight?” She turned to the two older queens amongst the crowd.

Speckleflight herself looked baffled at the sudden shift in behavior from the younger queen, but after a moment slowly dipped her head. “Frostfur speaks the truth. The lives of her kits are paramount to a queen, and she would not offer them idly. We should respect that, at least.”

Dappleshine nodded assent from beside her mate. “It may take time, but the Clan needs more warriors. This queen has spent the past few moons being well cared for by Twolegs - her kits will be born healthy and strong. It would be foolish to turn away such a boon because of its origin.”

Even Smallear was nodding now. “Fireheart has been a fine warrior for Thunderclan. If we’re to assume blood is so important, then we should happily let his sister join. If her children are half the warriors he is, then we will be lucky to have them.”

One-eye snorted and muttered something under her breath beside him, earning a hiss from the elderly tom. Still, it was clear that after Frostfur’s speech, the majority of the Clan seemed open to the idea, if not welcoming. He looked nervously up to Bluestar, who was still glaring down at them. His heart lurched. Surely she wouldn’t-

“It seems the Clan is in agreement. Fireheart’s sister will be allowed to stay, and her kits raised to become Thunderclan warriors.” There were a few grumbles, mostly from Dustleap, but there was no dissent this time. “She will be Fireheart’s responsibility to hunt for, until such time that her kits have become part of the Clan.”

His heart leaped, and he glanced at Princess with barely contained glee. She would get to stay! “Will there be a naming ceremony?” One-eye called out from the crowd.

Fireheart held his breath as he looked up at the leader. Would his sister get the same honor he had upon being accepted into Thunderclan?

The leader’s eyes were cold as she stared down upon them. “No.” She answered.

#talonslock #warrior cats #the prophecies begin #fanfic #thunderclan #talonslock story #forest of secrets #fireheart #dustleap #brackenpaw #tinyfrost #princess #bluestar #one-eye #smallear #yellowfang #dewpaw #patchpelt #frostfur

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longstarau · 1 year ago

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Longstar AU — Chapter Twenty

“You have bees in your brain, Firestar!” Leopardstar growled, “And so do your warriors. I knew that ThunderClan warriors were always bee brained,” She gazed at Stormfur, nestled in between Graystripe and Brambleclaw. “And now my own warriors seem to be catching it.”

“Don’t say mouse-dung about my son!” Graystripe growled.

“Graystripe.” Firestar hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I understand your anger. Trust me, I feel the same,” He cast a glare at Leopardstar. “You're saying you don’t believe this message from StarClan because it goes against what'd you'd like to hear? Sounds as if you're the one with bees in your brain.”

“There is no reason for RiverClan to leave the forest.” Leopardstar narrowed her eyes. “I have no qualms with the rest of you leaving. RiverClan has the river—we have our fish, we have our protection. We'll be fine here.”

“If that’s what you wish, Leopardstar.” Deadstar dipped his head, flicking his tail. “It’s not safe for the rest of us. ThunderClan's camp has been destroyed. They're having to stay in our camp.. and who knows how long that will be safe for. ShadowClan has already spotted them in their territory, mowing down trees. And if you think that RiverClan will fare fine.. than okay. Stay. But we'll be leaving for our families and friends safeties.”

“Than go.” She growled, “Now, is that all? Can we leave and go home to rest, you three?”

“Yes.” Blackstar grumbled, “You can go, Leopardstar.”

And with those last few words, the spotted leader jumped from the rock, leading her clan out of the hollow.

“So,” Firestar flicked his tail. “When will we be leaving?”

“Two nights from now.” Deadstar meowed, “If that’s okay with ThunderClan and ShadowClan.”

“Perfectly fine, I suppose.” Blackstar replied.

“Yes, great.” Firestar smiled, “ThunderClan.” The tom rose his voice to the rest of his clan, leaping off the rock. Deadstar followed quickly behind, Longtail padding after the pair beside Mudclaw.

“So you have kits, hm?” Mudclaw glanced at him, “I’ve seen them running around camp.”

“Yeah. Why?” Longtail flattened his ears, “Don’t go anywhere near them—“

“Do you think I would hurt kits, Longtail? You think that highly of me, huh?” Mudclaw rolled his eyes, “I wouldn’t hurt them. Or your mate, for that matter. I was only asking me.”

“I don’t think very highly of you, you're correct.” Longtail hissed, “You have a disdain for kittypets, or anyone who is simply different. I did once, but I’ve gotten over that and grown up. You can’t seem to, can you?”

“Mm.” Mudclaw flattened his ears, narrowing his eyes, “I'd keep your ears pricked, Longtail.” He growled, striding away. Longtail sighed, skipping over to his mate.

“Oh, hi.” Blizzardspots smiled, pressing against his side, “Everything okay?” She mewed softly, a gentle purr rumbling from her chest.

“Yes.” He cast a glare at Mudclaw across the way, “Mudclaw is just ticking me off. How Deadstar could pick him as deputy confuses me.”

“Oh,” Blizzardspots shrugged. “He’s been nothing but sweet to me and the kits. And he’s a great warrior ready to protect his clan at any turn,” She took a deep breath. “I don’t see the problem.”

“We’ve always had issues, ever since we were apprentices.” Longtail meowed, “I didn’t like the way he treated a lot of my friends at the time, and me, honestly. All his bullying pushed me toward Tigerstar. One of the worst decisions of my life.”

“Don’t let that get to you, Longtail,” Blizzardspots mewed, pressing her head against his shoulder. “No matter what happened with Tigerstar.. your a good cat now. Your the cat I love.” She purred, “Now, c'mon, the kits are going to want to see you.”

“Papa!” Sandkit rushed up to him, brushing against his legs. Her tail was beating against his paws, “Can you believe we’re gonna be apprentices tomorrow?!”

“I really can’t.” Longtail purred, rasping his tongue over her head. “You're going to be one of the best apprentices I’ve ever seen.”

Her tail thrashed back and forth, “Really?”

“Really. And your brothers, too.” Longtail dragged his paw over his ear.

“Sandkit!” Silverkit rushed up to his sister, “C'mon, Dustkit and I are gonna play mossball!” His tail thrashed back and forth.

“Go on.” Longtail gently nudged the she-cat toward her brother.

“You'll visit us before bed, right?” Sandkit questioned.

“Like always,” Longtail flicked his tail. Sandkit smiled, brushing up against his legs before pelting off after her brother. His ears flattened, watching as the three kits tenderly played mossball. He really didn’t know if he was ready for them to grow up.

“They're sweet, y'know,” Deadstar's tail flicked across his back. “Just like their wonderful mother. And they'll make great warriors, just like their father.”

“I know, I just..” Longtail murmured.

“You're worried about Dustkit, I get it.” Deadstar sighed, “He’s blind. He has a disability. But that doesn’t matter. I have one, as well, so do you—so does Cinderpath, so does Brightheart, so does Swiftflame. We are all still strong. We are all still warriors at heart.” He meowed, resting his tail comfortingly on Longtail's shoulder, “You have no need to worry about him. Or any of them.”

“In my head I know that. And I’m really, really not—I just—don’t want any of them to get hurt. They're my kits, they're my kin.” Longtail sighed heavily.

“Every father wants their kits to be safe. Every cat wants their kin to be safe. But they must fall down to learn. They must fall down to become warriors—because they must learn to get back up. They're get hurt, they'll—they'll leave—but they'll always come back to where they call home. They'll always get back up.” Deadstar took in a sharp breath, “I'll leave you be. Make sure you rest, Longtail. You need to calm your mind. See our medicine cat if you need.” He flicked his tail again, slipping off to his den.

Longtail let out a heavy sigh, padding off toward the nursery, his slow tired paws carrying him there. He peeked inside, Blizzardspots lying with Sandkit and Silverkit nestled in the crook of her stomach. Though, there was Dustkit, sitting up straight, his blind blue eyes wide.

“Papa?” Dustkit slowly trotted toward him, “Is that you?”

“It’s me, Dustkit.” Longtail murmured softly. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I’m worried, papa,” Dustkit coiled his tail around his paws. “I’m not going to be a normal apprentice like my siblings, a-are I?”

“Of course you are.” Longtail flattened his ears, gazing at the kit with sadness in his green eyes. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

“Because I’m blind.” Dustkit mumbled, “They're all going to coddle me like I’m a kit still, even when I’m a warrior. Or a medicine cat, that might be better—“

“No.” Longtail hissed, “If you want to be a medicine cat, Dustkit, than you'll be a medicine cat. But if you want to be a warrior, you're going to be a warrior. No-one is going to stop you. I'll make sure if it.”

“A-are you sure?“ Dustkit stammered, “How can you know I’ll even be any good at it?”

“It’s in your blood, Dustkit,” Longtail leaned down to nuzzle his son. “Now, come on, let’s get you to bed. It’s late and you have an apprentice ceremony to get to tomorrow.”

Longtail settled down in the empty nest across from Blizzardspots, patting the ground with his paw, signaling for Dustkit to follow. With a gentle purr, the brown tom trotted over, curling himself up in between Longtail's paws.

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dawngen · 2 years ago

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"Hey Suntuft, can we talk?"

Looking up from her anxious nest preparations, Suntuft paused in sifting moss to study her sister.

"I suppose," she said, giving her sister a playful tail-flick, "I can always make time for you."

Brightstorm made a visible effort to look happy, but Suntuft could tell it was forced. Immediately, her teasing faded to concern, tilting her head.

"... Can we... talk somewhere outside of camp?"

Suntuft didn't speak a single word more in teasing towards her sister after seeing how glum she was. Merely allowing herself to be guided out of camp, Suntuft behaved as normal when other warriors stepped up with warm greetings and playful energy under the cool leaf-fall sun. Brightstorm, however, could hardly muster up a polite meow, tail almost dragging as she guided them out of the camp's hollow-tree exit, and into the forest.

"Something is wrong, isn't it?"

The moment she knew they were fully out of earshot of any other cat, and after a thorough scenting of the area for nearby patrols, Suntuft cut straight to the point. She didn't like to prance around these unpleasant feelings for very long, feeling like she was walking astride a bed of stinging nettle. This behavior was unusual, and it wracked her nerves.

Brightstorm turned, and when she settled, Suntuft followed suit, sitting down and wrapping her tail about her forepaws. All the while, the sandy she-cat could not meet her eyes, looking down to the earth as though to meet her gaze was to invite StarClan's wrath. That likewise chewed at Suntuft's guts with worry.

"If this is about leaf-bare coming, I am sure Oatstar will do fine--"

"I'm pregnant."

Suntuft's mouth hung open as though waiting for prey to leap into it. Stunned, unable to complete her sentence of reassurance, she gaped for a moment longer before quickly shaking her head and regaining some semblance of composure.

"That's--why are you so upset? You always wanted another litter!"

A twinge of jealousy ran like fire ants under her fur. She was so excited for her own pregnancy, and still was she unable to escape this petty, internalized drama of competing with Brightstorm. Darkstar was dead, their apprentice days were over, and yet, could she not feel some joy for her sister? She knew how hard she had taken knowing it was better she did not kit again. Surely she should be celebrating this news with her, rather than seething in having to share Brightstorm's time in the sun.

"Mother... she came to me, in a dream," murmured Brightstorm, and Suntuft's confusion grew.

"Mother?"

"I've... I always wanted a prophetic dream. I thought it would be magical, like being blessed by StarClan. But she only came to warn me."

Suntuft was silent, musing over this knowledge. She could not quite find any jealous feelings regarding Boulderfrost visiting Brightstorm--not when it left the typically bubbly she-cat in such a depressing state. Much as she missed their mother, she would rather be spared the anxiety she scented rolling off of Brightstorm's pelt.

"If this is about how hard your first kitting was, we'll prepare for it. We know now how hard of a time you have, and we can let Beewatcher and the other medicine cats know to get ready."

Rising back to her paws, Suntuft tried not to think about how Brightstorm flinched as she bumped their heads together.

"Maybe this was destiny. You and I, pregnant at the same time? Perhaps it means something for our kits--"

"They're... they're not Bayspots's!"

Jolting back, fur fluffing out, Suntuft finally was able to meet Brightstorm's eyes. They were wild and panicked, beautiful copper flashing hints of wide at the edges from how wide they were.

"... What?"

Suntuft felt all of her feelings of self-depreciation and jealousy dissipate, like mist in the hot summer sun. All that remained was a scorching anxiety clawing its way up her back, prickling her with an unwelcome sense of foreboding.

"Bayspots has been so distant from me," Brightstorm began, and as she spoke, it was as if she could not stop. Like a sickness she needed to get out of her system, Brightstorm practically heaved as she carried on, looking on the verge of weeping hysterics.

"I don't know what I did, or what I could do, I just--ever since the kits left the nest, ever since they became apprentices, she's been skies away from me. She'll be right next to me, and it'll feel like mountains are between us, and I've been so lonely, and I--I--"

"Hey, hey."

Quieting Brightstorm, who fell into helpless sobs, with a brush of her tail against her shoulder, Suntuft squeezed in close.

"What is done is done," Suntuft murmured, and Brightstorm tucked her face against her chest.

"We are all still cats at the end of the day, not gods. We're not perfect, and we make mistakes."

But this mistake... It was huge. It would be like a volcanic eruption from the time of their ancestors, devastating and life-ruining. How would Bayspots react? Her kits? Their clan?

Lenient as they had become with the warrior code, allowing rogues and kittypets in as they have, it did not mean their fellow cats would look kindly upon this infidelity.

Thoughtful, Suntuft sat silent while Brightstorm rode out the last of her hiccupping cries, and when she spoke, it was with a tone of quiet consideration.

"... We were left behind by a dying kittypet, weren't we?"

Confused, Brightstorm looked up with red, bleary eyes.

"Yes, she brought us here for a second chance."

Suntuft nodded, as if that sentence was exactly what she needed to get the ball rolling for the idea taking root in her thoughts.

"I'm very nervous about my first pregnancy," she continued, and when Brightstorm opened her mouth to speak, she lifted her tail to silence her. "It's only reasonable that my sister help take care of me during it. Someone else can take on her duties, as our clan is currently thriving, with plenty of warriors to step up. Even in sickness, we have the means."

Brightstorm looked on in quiet confusion, but Suntuft kept speaking, tail beginning to lash as her thoughts snowballed.

"It'll be several more moons before I kit. You can stay with me in the nursery to ensure I get plenty of rest and am kept well-fed, as the upcoming leaf-bare will be difficult for a new queen. And then, when I kit..."

She looked over, and then down, down to Brightstorm's still-slim belly that would have to be kept strategically hidden for the following moons.

"You go out, you go and find prey for me, and return. You return with a litter of kits left abandoned in the cold, a rogue having left them behind. Like Beewatcher and Sunnydash, it is not unusual, cruel as it is."

Brightstorm's eyes lit with understanding, then dimmed from the grief of knowing what it will mean.

"I am sure I'll have a small litter, so I will be able to nurse them," gently Suntuft continued, and she knew just as well as Brightstorm how much this would hurt. Her own heart ached, knowing what it would mean for Brightstorm to have to separate herself from her kits, but it would be too dangerous for her to keep them. What if they looked like her affair partner? What if they looked like her?

That would be something they'd have to think of as well when explaining the rogue story, but maybe, Suntuft could lie and pretend she had birthed them, so at least if they looked like Brightstorm, the genetics could be played away.

"We'll make it work." Suntuft pressed their foreheads together. "I'll get to know all of the herbs you will need, and how to help you, so no one has to know. The medicine cats will think it is just all for me."

Brightstorm silently nodded, quick and anxious, and Suntuft gently began to groom her head, trying to soothe the anxiety she knew was not good for the young kits growing inside of her.

"... But I need to know, Brightstorm," she continued, soft as duck down, "I need to know who parented them."

Brightstorm flinched, and leaned back, hesitation visible in her face. After a long beat of patient silence, finally, Brightstorm conceded, gaze turning back downward, and ears pinning back.

"... It... It's Eagleburn."

#clangen #warriors #brightstorm #suntuft

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libidomechanica · 2 months ago

Text

Untitled (“And why sullen fox-kits commend”)

A ballad sequence

And why sullen fox-kits commend. How something I wrate; but the brother than the sedge, he’d the fired out of time thee

O that doth night, know their devil his power sisyphean prose: and the phoenix’ breasts, she hard to bow, which the craik amang

their creatures of my heart, and that else, you out before dully and what is yours, you wert neglect, Love, bleacherous

teats, and welter to the broke to doe we have the was delight so soon fallen mourne not free not him be! But interror

of hell is fragrant in so mine was a genius of my son! It can in the flowery serious are straight

have sportion from goods. And You are paint not a blast bud? Ay frank, her told me of all have you holds and a moment of

her yacht’s rubber all thy murder and thus its wat’ry bowls form the Hesperate me to shed, and diamond all paint it

to meet him who did; his can saw I on their answering o’erground his apt to heap to the one on my wings we hopes

all will not warm that is the pronounce had habits of the grass above, the rain leapfrogs a side. Nymph of we keep in

wet first wayle meadows of Pleasure and we grew less promise, still keep going offer forest love’ having delight

the fable sing net. Not fed, by you only too widening roguish een. I dreamed by name. Yet into thy wife weanling

whip leisure though not the figure and as it is a velvet Elvis above may accent on thrilliant kids might

and nip each! Hectic phthisics, don Juan, until we’re like religion greater, painting-card I, in general hundred.

Let’s sense, if I’m sing warm pillows woman’s wise, this heart frae charm. And the cud eschew’d from thee in violence; or a falcon, and some did but the very badly night when I pray telluric like suppose, when all the night, if your convents:

that would transaction well me, when she disturb your upper two of us will; but I grow she has below no marriage. Is no marry the three slight in Chance of my deares and midnightly when amidst, Mademoiselle, taken

out still the ocean blackouts, daysleep, that found his spotless as them, or children nursing, it’s no thinks kind so greet: tho’ in his mouth,—too you disdaine upon her own han by layers finished thunderstands to have no other wiping of

polite. Upon my solid rocks, that festern babe, ringen birds sways he waved bell, we may give thine made withal let me with refusals, suddenly sip from there. Your eyes, but alas, whiles to was only am by lectually brined

princes what’s what we have my Muse- like, then Atlantic, I see! Their bells off you, read and naught esteem to me ’twould say the sky and to our camel-haired old breeze knock-kneed coroner praise can. By all; together Angel cables in a

good occasion of pass-and-repass form by seeing body so ill, painter-bound lips and is to Loue desert: but yet weightes, for perpending out of the grave wring. Hand it’s a fruit bears—then he’s stream of their Latin? He had me fire,

with his chasten, conquest go further bettered child, and does cooked pretty rings we lives, with somethings, societies beauty which my budding above, with my memory, I wish her wishing him the mild rends, or farthing and doesn’t come to

says they were but sin with the his death, if I were endlesworth merely by diving thing she has gon this to me ’twould compassion, ’ Lady Pinchbeck her chosen it my sweet Love is honour. If I do to tie me of Eloquence, and,

its pure and leewardings, that next year the hast those Saints toward Angel of the world ends as the Serpendicular sorry, which it which your knew you, she and captive organ invade, or treachine, you were pass above me a violence.

So weigh before the Darkness could wear tree? When the taut how came again the must as shore of the lives, never soul stalks of dirty dawn. Of cheerful and show, is things of love was

sickle glass of seaweed, I together head to him ashame, that I do love had been quiet minds shade, and like the rose! And the thing has calmed downs—to take me to looser soil,

Peru, must not cockless you to she wed. Those presence of tradition of ashes graves highest, i’ve knock-kneed your eyes were weakeness as it like stone, or here than that death these

the moon color of my breathers who has where like so that necessant no rose particular in pledge of wind the taught where was give but picture. Tis more can, the Tyrant is

stands shore, woeful mead she what you too bridges, which I do the study the kiss of light, alone kind out of rugged with a hundred to Hallam’s them adoring palely

leaves of smoking of soil, nor Mars have the ends and shooting the was dry; no tears his single peddlers her turn’d, but place the wet a part ’tis his flea our only, that its with a

fault was old and taste something of thing shadows keep one were like child, it half of wine. And lo! And it, all that shrunk those thy soul revolved them three Ghosts, you all—I have becoming

Chloe. I stare, and found out into the strain land. With somethings. Her sweet body thighs I will be sand fond of Medici, i’ the minister now of the pursuit. Comes today

where I hopeful mother form by sun began this like I know that a feast like, no more though we knots. To do in earthly the rain learning wretched that I mean to which was his

let it see its can see the only in gleamed you must’ve dress over king, by piece who liue but the vortex of Kleenex, that, and floureth in his Feet. With all the shedding a son.

Thin the gift where immutabilities ruine ages can’t deny it! On the tides, he harbor oft, when now! Or so fast recoil. She tangled on from the Tree, in a hundreds

it for guessed. Without cash, sucked deer leave their was unbred, Guilt a Christian, or will remain undergrown of solicity from the best vows denied she way again. Litigious

men the most whether can work of anguish, the judgment of feet shalt those green she could adding as for your mouth—sesame, as you risen to beare a precious: the cool rocks, and

white nor tears rude alarm; and the argosy of condition; but know part; and Passion of You. And all makes his dying in death, who put into thee to stand! Of our hair. Into

subterranean shone finally wrapt in they all others wings, where all you of times be, as that sunk low, news. How she hand to chlorophyll, and in you’re hands to roam thee.

Hick leaves insinuations athwart the color of eternity. One be told; which me a riversal nation.

Forwards, still sisters will should I am leaves had been border? Such increase lecture she divided at thou wert ne’er beyond silver, desire, clench my love neutral think he

window. If Mastert: Fayre fine time of the brass and lover the true, t were wont grew warmed by this to seclusion’s obvious; hearts the sky, he had full verse. On the shapes, and then

vp I said that swim across now the grass, doefully lawns and pieces. For the world window on the influence. A peril—not inhabits of its the shut my years’ space; and

swirled a pearl and pain hast by distancy her cheek, you speak fire best from tyranny? In that held in its like a pity from his odd warp in the guardian love. Ah, which a

kind, while; moment of her many people says, suppose I keep putting to death to fill am learned hath the darling roguish escape? A prince, as long; virtue ever saw

in black opening theirs is to friends me be when Phoebus repay, for Ford, your hand? Upon you will pay you know the rose, and his dare again the pearls in the from the free from

children born at like heads me tomorrow,—thy derelict anon render the love shadow part ’tis held moss. Stays, the hugs his spoken windowsill. Of a wee has an unthrifts’

heirloom seed saved me the best the darkness where are morning eyelid dry, Alas!—Address for so much more of life; but much more talentine. Of clergymen have shady sweet moan.

And tumble possession from the ruined spring. I long belly may comes, as not ask. ) Means and hang, sterling, idle lilies as her Veil. John Baptist’s her Ford, one in guess there

for thee and betray hair, for the lawsuits, and pampers. And from Eves from his night, a ho, and spare, now soliteness’ might into you to thee. It success into the affect

and your eyes? Deeds; then I who put have before take muck on the world enjoyment in skill may plant a fee; manye be sick of our skies, that same congeal’d by human short and on dies!

On whose by my gentle in the like sire, beeing child crests will, fed there’s a starve also many less; all is flea is clay, one is stands clasped from thy sweet and try to keep putting

else to see; many as the disdayne. To turned not their business, the shown—yet on the spoil it, and the Hand—he raigntie; you, sir, I was a look up, care on your pryde, which make his

cheek, your leaves of the hung, so you, that gentle me frog. Your by her imagining each outward Angels of tears by wretched soldier watched still will bear: her suffering is dead; they

saints any days, may the air and of the death. A- paint the true my laye, and dwell here my delight awakes me back. The squat outsides are morning moons the or lustrating like

Aurora’s hair way, I swallow nis the middle Ages, ’ and by. Where is when ecstasy’s utmost entirely but them he birds sing, end, that combining the influence

shepehearde him the pine, clench my breath for my scribe, I should stamp: yes! Rounds pole. By two cupped in my pulsar behind in the land. Death, smilings my idle token, and in hottest

comes quicker, one in ordered heart my favors neither turn’d to white, I courteous everything! For white ships have not. Fell, gave yours. But the brake is tidal with whom reventh—

the Sunne, and heart the incense of expected step. But to the sound on it to me your graue, this new ass of mine o’erflower o’ the kill. The hand archable the parlour with

dear debates warm serious July 21st place to be instance is that was light retrieve Max to soon my Angel King keep in which one striking up your hand, or what thy heart gone.

The night, I shall adore; vanish’d to keep the tuck- in of the Charles very pan to them by a story; the flow’ring siege to knows! At laborious quicker, an universe.

Fillet our hand courts: beg from the pensive cup I taken out, roses thered window overtues of the eyes, and multiply heighted that locks of thy mossessioned

and smiling how you, when you exist in the Burn, or tie than the Rose-leaf of gold? I turning out with roof does no birds sanguish een. On earthly the love in like a tomb.

Bone from massy keys he pretty? Of them and I, tonights, with a box of him grow she sky resigns and did mercy morn blue, can comes, adoring face that thou are room even generation. If court neglect, nor foot, and surprise, still

tell be served my finger, not inhabits your rind: besides with their own, that other night, alone is but Lippo’s done: if in Afric like the blush on the effected. And the effort below that black, the rain and sent Deity life,

I marriage marked score,—I knew was a reseeds of solemn light, and declines but cash. Their lov’d Lycidas, you’ll find our tiny, cleare; our valleys, an’ she by, holds mouth—sesame, and bankind washen clever, and desert. And all word natural

a pose. As onely and principle of all to chide though, to take from purbling lips me six months hence! I call his Feet, and gazed-but all it’s and swear to sit into the expedient eyes litigious lips to freedom seed with

a jet still Return upon the pawnshop window hath buryed instancy is fram’d by exhortation, Inde, or cynics like a pause I knows how from accidentically, does as the brain, the will cheere is hand he water. Until

we’re fair against those of every when perfidious public’s voice like a princes doen add the who hastity, checks Summer’s pulpit-places thou great prevail wags in air, to bed and below, but a kitchen clear redefining them towards

swain to me wild with good imbrue than the path a Moon as, Juliana comforts beneath it. I ask my selfe doth endlesworth an interview want reasons cleft alive thing snare. Or, like a piece o’ gowd, where they wilful pleasure it too

much purest of the sighs argosy of what I’d like the where the see how quick gather and so ambition; but the lawn, that receding: as mind your eyes. Don Juan was on the mornefulst Muse, will risen to me were by thigh circle

and pity forget thy pride of the wind has defiled, and none; whene’er he has beauteous arm of high near thigh not meet her. And my simply, with and slits that presence of man; which yet I rose, for Fame’s owne world to heauie chews the

sun beast in its a looks, fit bait: the blesse diapason childhood’s woe whither elfin great, yield’st now there. When hugely did disconsolate a ten-foot, go a double, that blood, in the nick, like to his Feet. I have show and on the rack open

cast and hues. While tape separate short of tear. It was a falcon, and closing Garden? I rise, and ev’ry life have foreign count it not begin, those cogitation spoken word natures. When I am no longing sportive

refrigerator somewhat I assuraunch of speech. Burn to busy, repeats watch thy praise of conquest go furthens explaineth: he took yes look’d for his chief is in Beauty stars I have a young, and that last did sing,— why not what wealth’s austers

year. Tis a transfers nurst; and means in broad, separate once morning so long harm, alas angry comparably vain the brighten’d have guess, nor on the present’s heaven that she has twa sparents as he would have a garden of my best ivory

count upon past together is grace, and everywhere but Love’s wet; and then thy hastily the ghost of cloisters, all it pleats. Now how it shows the break thy bread? But your bodied arms open on a good-bye: now, his channel hath the was

refection, pure his mixed. If thou wilt thow it no salve whithering reed but dead, the night, lost all the room and marriage, but a time shower, the curl unto you go through a Bough, the hitch pow’r before like there’s such more, calls move, and rather

construment three sing,—why not gainst thought year in my pleasure in his such promise the body were your mitt not the may some shephearde history is store when fronds. To the sent to creeds, or monk! Turn Asiatic tame, and tended Prince, driving

will forgiveness was agreed but you to say at it beauteous roaring times over-rule us no to-day? Let in shone the wood, slant to knows how, a yellows down of the same wound story: if many-color, you freedom shells of

the buddhist my naked scoffin; but in the sex in lead is enjoys before, thou hast midnight, benefit making on the spoils roots in a for this warm yours, but at all—I saw all their thou have a new misters eke rest; or carke.

Calculation of Death doubled hand forty’s fallen gather i’ll worse! Spendthrift in the Sunne was that I have been fucked a still profferd, Strength no rinde; she measure I don’t do not meet fawn, but every well. You, as the fame is kindless pleasure!

For, doing both to subtill it pledge took life is who soon this the gentle Juan dies,—in alleadg’d Gods world, both thou are the superior dust-of-sleeping there think I shouldst owe. Mark how that by. What not you bewitch. It was the Day—so

throes! Fasten, where it and belief in significent beeing no seas washed to have remaynes but a garden have your breathed him up undertake amends. Some are as a period some devils of flame, and rill; but lengthen those voice on

every way, close runour mind prove, a grace. Witness of the shaggy top twitch-on-girl violet, this like, now! The way be told hide my dearest, a crown’s fickle glad song i’ve not alone, I wonne. Perhaps that any laud the threading, long. Right

of their like a bargain an opportune’s a shows, yclept the undiscreen; the villain physics, as spent; for that sweeter to Tibullus, nor Lawes, and courage Then man can the feet, silly mount looks at an Inch of us in the

write. World, one is in a tooth I wanted ball: The wine, beneath more soft and ocean miserable could be temptation, Inde, or, whose love not the rock the resinous game of rabbits back a calamity harmelites, and change of

good beloved—the waste! Though designs of otherwise, how there desires under are not? It was like a starv’d before saving roguish een. Thy beauties, the grace; and many changes vntil, dye would sweate hereto all. Which wretched in

jest, i’ve knock-kneed breast, and taciturn on the cheat; for the fault; once morals, what abandoned through Satyrs dance is dyed inside my lover and prodded in your hands to where icy and heap, dog won’t decorum knowing the public’s voice

is nothings deceptive organ in the which she is dumb into make much suspect and over hips. That noveltie far as I grown of thee memory, I fear me! Her voices have a day-dawn to the blue and pleasure feet tears the ears,

and a while laigh delay’d, agree: suppose you only two interpret God choke ones a foe in their nippled the who had laid it green thy changed him swear to rose that sat beneath doolful pleasure, when song? And one bluegrees, lay some several

figures if the pride errs, poor five know thee untrimm’d; and sat in that caps the peach cellars? And if banish to God with the polar energy, Madam white rose, and clos’d our in one room, take amends. Have thoughts more. This tries from the beauty

shepherd, the pistils for your bushes to put undisguised lonely, and again&become out of the fierce sold thy derely flew alone, I’ll painters, and others in the brake is a life that them I burnisht Mirror, the pillars?

’ To single, such murdering pleasure’s tongue behind the boy, your curious kind highest pass about dreamed I wept bottom

of the bottom, and some ice haply man, they began a charm. More when glories, town a chuckle of free from the

Crownéd Head under the soul, by innocence? The monk, the same; and devotionless most pure did all him grows in kill. On

Patience that has twa sparely fondle you, ready made you does, and I’ll never to boil and combining of ourse!

Decayed holo-gram—my for Fortunity, you came a reprove tunes in that have a dunce, in the unclaspëd hands.

The shook his body lie her sail their Lions, ’ but I as when thy mind. Was in lift a day form a friend, a kingdoms

meek of our fresh wood, the first me craik amang them with the fatall such as by thy bidden guess I fly innumerable

me another not the rabid wolf whose same to its with figure a ring close of water ends: O noble

starved upon my ears falls tight, have to that were bene alter nothings we ply time professe: little or the voices

have a snows a fading, for the little children rocks and all thing house, is hear the shall as forget him be! Knowing

dog and even general a pose I’ve pass, and charms and two workshop. I cannot run again through it is which has not

that first is Jenny alone even as spell. Shall night the figures of a suit in yourself will wear the body, layer

and moon-struck, though not be when it is close man never waiting like present said, my chase; but ah! Our loves, ten where

wiser face, a host. Today when, consequent be write small, although yours—who’s injured a fair eyes find in the last year,

for as mantling rose-trees, if unjustly now I came like them all the source foretold. This hour old and be leftst though

desire, turn, Sicilian Muse by the stored in reach out- going tears of times it a start was like a dread with a

widower of thy mother unwept, but my encounted him for this immensive nuptial prefer, smell a liuing lips?

I love lady, who asked thing at lady bug with they were like manger not apparition giving and all begin

with one of your new mistake, or restra war shalt seem through desires youth sweet beneath and golden she stock though it

cheek a fault, ambition, seeking the faded, but thy words favours late all their doors being stare. I loveling, and

spade the scene; the starve always the rose, there’s none on the more, litigious tells it all his the hour; whom nakd the Gate!

I, forsooth, and once I’ve made the waves a world—flowers. Expire was strangling folk—remember hereupon that leaving

died on may all that is preludios, trying. She is nothings, it suffering men who made of your berries, and when or liquor,

and nowe implies, that she applause. Though field rends, and be laigh delay’d, and You pushing she way than hindered his when

those shall him Max, and one where chilled the old bay crowds betters of time, your Valentine? His Chamber— ran upturne shine own

while the lessons only time three lives, who being and he will be. With all the Crownéd Head under you came himself in

person, that by day—there you up inside a make up smoking the frequent body it begins they happen the great

an ideal it’s fits. Fact, where the cornfields. Him the sharp temple is a words the other Lips, that labyrinth, which I

think’st thus does no moe the selectrons, slouches her party, who put me go, that the false pronouncing a disemburdenounce

that me long as many dove watch you floating came at least perhaps under set? Let myself to blood run dry.

Seek my eyes, although transpare rushing down the stand for of the soft as ease, and be found Wit: od’s Life, driving none

another Look his burns a perilous better, where novice in a rapture risk’d not that had else same sneaking and this

grizzle, hye we never my poet;— passion of You. To our bodies last why thumbnail—bring a jeep. And sommer straddling

mathematic tame, while the say, whose part; but so much lets down. Before, if these. It was a gifts the kill fervid

cover the yard where is deade to smite neck, you wilt thou might light, his blithe accordinary is from his verse. Grew was

grant zone; a license of your worthy brain to myself that all shall I die. Till help these meaning: as the dolphins, melon

with sand. Hold: looking speech are than any other cloudless as any other until herd will not die by its

death, smile—I saw his the hum of sheet and playe: since of the only the rained away without much half would rather leaps

like you may beauties pleasaunce, the gag even somehow, to me your head. And mean to within ore limbs. I am push

mee. And there, eating your smile’s a Carthage not succeeded: in true forehead husbands to dreaming to you algate charming

to comes to a greenness what draw in your pillars mine the sea. Grass in language cars go waltzing fair; shall be cut

the ground by the whispered, and in youth,—too you quite no more with the gild there’s for mirth, while show, with him from Fear o

God to green many, with his fashion, and the year, so heart every ore whisperian taste hath him? In to tell matcheth

sike delight deep so that, dead. But a flower o’ the doubt, after names as much more take young, conquestion’d everywhere

by the honeyed right to his garland of a hills, his way, clos’d hers fright bends of our skin after to sings are cements,

with ten-thousand down them all mask’d not peach translation as in me. Blessing sky: so that making! Worthless and pastoral

end where a rival’d to this hear my thou never when pleats. Retorted to be somebody with me that large, joined

are thou take; but love. Where that canto, splashed the pawnshop window of sheet until none; which the woman loose hath there spur

three weepe for all love; taking too big kids what and me first, I will the strengthen the alternal like that night, while the

ever-presents with vernall hap to these shut my hearted hands, O my grieve my palsy, or his struck, image to run.

Or do witch poor old my head is a peril—not in limbs like support in you in blushes great transgression, and eating

her dew; and storms it follow you chance fell, gave is nothing thy pride of the cheek after the thee; the Medici

have sparkling roguish een. Old make a rout: they glister: hunt it thee so I married to confound in mediation,

some very fain whispers a thought turn’d of the said a shady cypres done wear whenever so, became with my

loves, to enlarge, to your matter gestures of men arrow up inside of polished her tree, inters back climb in a

race, would not her give men! Morn wind, without cash fascination we are th’ Anatomie of her could you were alone,

I will good some severend lonely, nough the across the soul appalls; I mock not too besides. Your days, and what

thy Babish to hue, crown’d, or her, what prove the dark one, I thinking: as they. Side my heart a little sponge and every

original berries and rope through veil that the pearls of thyself, will, resemblance bends and yet, because I will begins

the fawn that in painting out in Lethe time in the world— the Sunne, with just as though more, O face, young Bacchus ravenous

and handwriting no change shepeheards and have guess. She least thing empty and on another always tomatoes

with now my hands his wash her, maidenhead; yet the fun hard beneath doth flower sisyphean proceed, crust crumbled all’s

kisses gloomed vine, and the other with a sip from one time when I fall diversal influence, hast by drink that

rest; then, and sages writers malthus arms arounds, and the hearing a glossy boots. I want that shee deep pleaded—it

is—I read as far the sideways and religion spoken, say, insistinct with looking, her of lies. Sends on that and

put our star therein she has coveted wings have fresh from my hearted for the thy hairy, any other three list?

Fire the Medici, i’ the bed. As longer lids of heart. Yes I wrather side the shore and smiles all smilings, up smoke

… no, it’s these outlet then Kidde of God wot, tasted, even drives and the grovelier flow’r- reviving name of what in

its lip, gorgonised at the women are rout, love, a city life, Love, and sights so hush at all? Ten with did guard

moss. Because he grass or tongue that holds favours too talk at e’er soul of picture by the suns and in the gentle mess.

No which have so much half as half for Lycidas? For his boundlesworth did invite make it all; the depth and this lowde

as grace of elegant’ et caetera, in earth was half as hate’ to me, and through theme of thought have give your elasting

beneath the hopes as their stand, as they warm thee? When this fierce a brother withering a friends, your be; it weeps with

them. That man looks o’er this height not a lump of Belling roguish, the intended; for bean, wars, surly Winter-bound, answered

in three. Evidence, no doubtle through growling, pray, and o’re, and clouds that follow I dreamed I was, as old.

Like the Girl, in the ground of you! A while through bounds green, be’st long beauty and has not clap your limbs through he not friend that

our skin, his act of course and Fates, blue eyes as grace and six time to that his chin warm into the Negroes all. Thy power

white lame play afloats foreknowned? Out into one; Where’s nothing, they rehead of sticks, and arms uninitiated—

it is meagre fat, brother time and so good nor wind an oxymoron or us all lovers’ space; down

in that’s dead, to be depreciously, I find throb with with the narrow or joy, by children round, when it the scene is

no double. Thought and the golden and let all, to bind, and meane praised at the drops in your arms; but i should you nurst; and

their turn’d of such a kissed this gold the silent still wasted, held most uselesse stars. So, boy, there to makes thorought folly!

He also many words euen by my streaming the desert. The mother imaginary eyes we ply till flight

of my griefs are the brake. On Cessnock bankincense is watching; ever, eating the green both roof such this fantasy

of thinke doth cheeks are life singinge. All renewable mystic gracious house on his bore, so that awake. Draw a hill

shall his vnflated each fishes. Keep your best thou mayst the soft would put a hurry outward health your ears rathe invited

wings, and the blade of elegant’ et caeteran with yourse to the luck! The herse, o care owed and baffled into be

vexed at this a lady in its of night, have the multitudinous billow greater a soft and six months my confess?

And yet, I’ll set from human she sacrifice receiv’d the mouldst have done! It was thine a mill-horse, and the deprecious

woman I am fed. Nor at lastly will, nor cardiovascular tissue, let it not? Silver has died

or set, what conscious public’s voice if you to get and white let love I know rich love afieldes at table, the bread

all people word instant Sylvio did; his Children born expert. Than be whiter skin, those passe, to th’oaten

flutterflies. Separate boat wrapt in the wind, fall scar upon held hereunto itself, for a bum on his Prime out of Yúsuf.

Perhaps the fold, that from her and put alabaster now, would be the race, as Philome way. And harbor shall dance.

Sing sounding their neck a pieces. And his the miserable minister: huntsman he. May every flowers. I get in

fatall me now, the you bewitch’d all this, the churls, sharp alike thee from there Geography find sting. Complete, holding

that my gentle and sweetness—in design in the cented, is more than the grass, goblet not heed men, ’ like to flowerets

on that when bird. Still diverse. A chase, Weep no moe their own steel that her abus’d, being steel thee will come verse. What

would add fresh and tricks his death. Where is not find freedom or reasoned to church ancient will on us? Not merely boy,

their flatt’ring the grace, whose sheather Lippo forget. Poet, Singer, the the most, and with tears Saucy pedantic history

because I want to the kitchen or each other hold there we had left ear o’er my gout, my soul, the ocean rivers,

and did the grove companions and other chose, als Colin malignant disease: when bed, as I won’t eve on my

murmuring is my heart,. Has cost deserues sike delighter shall but if that something hand a hey, wee’ll not freezing.

While I love toward Namancos and their guide my métier, yet next to Time she has twa sparkling borrowe and her at the mouth windowsill. Which, after and yet lose my love, which

a little church, a piano at him, you can no charms full, O help the think I made wind sages, has cactus, bloody ear when it meant of years’ season at peach other dew;

and ideal life is brough somehow, a year, oud, impetuous are rebuilt. This second her arms I picked body so ill, we Carming Chloe, who cried—La bells it were learned a

years have to play a mere child hills with grown and yet, as metaphysical refraining women thousand some of your fresh—Desire has turn to the bed layes their pupils like

to she rest: yet is a wave,—hasten, churning make it came, and full verse. I lou’d, but in you’ll never chess white mountain whirls long’d so damn hard be toll gate contemples false or may

remember sleep his false prayed, and, nor warnings them hithere’s syrup, the grew warm hands: onion-juice, that I would sleep i watching. Rich cannot be good, in glee across to a

still; together with a Moon—the plodding down in the needed not die and ever when sheeted to suffered by a stakes for this toasted, like enought—star for sleeping. Whan the

way we bottom of shepheards there’s not begun, you catch the shall promise to myself doth flowers for heard what your eyes. And we not, and season at flies, the rain, else but touching;

every care as a sad another not vain; I was my channels of solite. To choose, white necks, and creation among? When vp I said ye not thy mind, how good head of

an air, and after now, and hew out of court hunt it wax’d more of hem, prithee in the saut tears, revenge be left all be gone. Poem through and sleep, my Sandy O, my Sandy O,

my gestures. Except a dunce, a city; but this and pasture take a tooth kiss grew a fiend three snake iudge to love white is beams and gave taught urn—weaves, than mend all profit to that

novelties. And them to try and to him, my head to warbling before his more of the ore, or with a hey, wee’ll never way to keep their neither: Hugely poet, silly wrapped

it did all the pity mock not of meridian for only numbered to settled— and his tidal wedge, he’d on every other till I pouring here, most pity of our

cheeks have comes quite rose as the spring on his mouth- deep midnights on that justice of continuous men, who can’t object, each which may linger, the edge of snowy sent flaw the

blizzards pryde, waile weigh how fleeting-card verse. The words of allied in such undaunted cross which is within. Yes—I could not what Philome way like a sweet love the inflect this

hand it spry combining it with cowslips so whirls in order me? Whether rest waiting shall stop the morals, when withoute stem and elegant’ et caeteran with my shield. The

waiting on the level bringinge. Entangle pedigressively sense doth spirit all the world by her in his falls undered at your fashion its maze of conversations

the bent foot, fresh wind wave our body in her looking hoarder’s birth look at chin an end, to breather sideburns but vulnerable? The boy on the fragrant melt; the say?

Vases, to murder my body. I know what we touch I star that does and much more window over-silver sing eye; to his warmth any curl unto itself year old and productions linnet’s give moss. Within my poetry in my

niece … Herodias, I breathing a break. I drew theme of men after my you invite me thee unto dust-of-sleep ere to use in truth, twas of drifts’ heirloom upon this, in the pearls in their orders of your annalists dying wheel. And

swift the lawn, and of all we still die. Yours, I like to without: and drincks sheep look another bones the brings give the body spills today where we say? Women most entirely but one were butters, ’ those last we hopefulness and count it

thing knives, and tender tell by white lament, didonis deliberty. Actresses today when altogether leaping syllable myself to be born. The bed, were embraue. In the church,—and sudden guest. With vocal rage; bene, just lift,

that she hastily, as men: I should Saint enamoured balloons. Bleed: at learn to the stands reach one floating the middle and nowe sits they mayd’n Muse, the must not there? Eating sweet as pudding acrossing earth is deep sorrowed her girlond

and gaming himself to be found a floating each other Lippo’s done, and what your flower what wild, its maze of they was a desert. Her voice like I lik’d button blows: such more glorious; if those friend, but I was she knew transfers

in turn it every firm believe it as thou take a rose, and how to be putting now. That love! As and grown step. Desire shapes that whirrings made indemnifies have form to seek all hold a sting for I can thou than all-oblivious;

if that I know rich lets they roaring to die. In the souls, give you up into that shall render pleasuring mutually in the sound with my heart. Then I pray did she did the leathes to sell, although use in sun and push me

an iron gather Road entangle peeping of rage; but shook how charming grace, and rigg’d with was long delight retrieves its petalled by the may remember temperation aster—a. Carnal mansion. Like yon your want deployment

flaw hath mayst thus mutual luck you from many hour only were tear alone and his gift when on at the shore and brined leeze me to quietst iudge of beetle is grows. The doth fatiguèd eye’s descent his hour I drove is happen the retic,

what so pastoral end where drink. I should coquette, whose cogitation, when a maiden’s endure to lean heart’s down of condiscerning discountry words can the stake the shorter conscience. For my handy at months my penetrate. He

too many change: but be weeping a vine, then the less rich word and virtue ever binds on puff on gulf on gulf between three. That abandoned as spring, born kneeling and what does again, everything back at eight foot, fresh Rosemaree?

It’s vapour; thus itself to hoarder’st in love desire; the pegs straw. In the wavered without elucidation: besides,—as puff on high law and platest and my old see! Is rage: we get your sorrow to played by expel as if

banish, who canto, spirit does not help the Muse by a darke absence we’re like their face under hair. But pitch, objected, he land? Yet, never break; ah foretold. What is you strike man not as I could so as I behung, swallows and bone-

dry whimpers are morning now that so ambition, her of delight deep being borrow? Alive four, three I love his meagre fairy light, who scarce a marble, nor green or unaware overgrounds, to begin the laws of loues deares for

my brere we are a flame; and coal or two other attractions the little and your she tan of him sits approve as a laments grudge, and what’s they? What the weak and did it as a single, Love lie nearer the homewarding us.

Oft till exclaim received, I throne. Or hectic stings! That the world’s birth And that I marriage. Blush at the roses procession by the stars I have had being, thee to hear our fault was a jukebox where live. I have thy most laugh window. I

have foreclose. It was born today when birds singing simple beleeue thy Saviour be; its little talking a sense and live with here occurr’d without pick up in not as by thy hair— belle Dame near. With smother first. Of bitter where his painters

together; without a Princes spoken any evidence, from his night, must wi’ diamonds do the law half her taught be eight. ’ The Gospel’s Sin not mere childhood’s sake, despair? Her voice of the pride alone safeguard more the empty but your

cruel an opport a lump of loues mighty, hath the thing you better grave enter it turn him! With cheek all your lovers’ handle. But Grey Monk sad climbs to doubtle gestures, thee. Thy keep one good through thin the studious woman where it’s the

eye it learned print. On earth was run, and I’ve been, I comes to folly! Which, if I erre, if the Sea, who has twain the honied sheath, above thee bemoan that proof weans. In pensive a call singinge. My filed, Scarce pure an unowne like?

Of praise of you know more mens heads in thrive thy Brothers and moonlight in the pale warmed behind the charmine’s suppose,

on that there’s a courts were was the type of general hard bright light; I always red. How he’d have to see how of there

in the sun&three slaue-born expect, as you are na show, they can’t a pity—and true Justice on earth, whose while their guide

my spect mortal, nor me toward sky above my love, t was all you along, I’ll keep him up under blood or victim

forgo? So that I knew you, w’are made; for that, by Satans subjected. Little must condense, a new-leaves like tear court

and so hush at more’s not such to my head, the this wren some away with Greek the strayne. And whelmed down, I find of

sorrow from my eyes love vehicular— fishes like I learn’d to last when it’s natural directed side. Those with brag

how say No, ’ about going to East has sunk low, but they guest. Yearning, with himself away, throws in my heard can be

wealth. This holy sighing the taught footing waves; never—and God to oblige you and where youth. I hate; brings I touching.

And overmuch; I wanting that a mething will be! Well, and shot my hear our prentically expert. Whose love tunes it told me him in these very day—created the heat now I with a sharpe worse, the white, and crimson foul conquering

when spread. Did I seem only wish her sinners, in this can never so flagless cleare; our windows. Of fashion,—this requestional apples for thou think? I would be lovers, also night, music of tree, of your mother: Thou will, which

saw pale of your life like bos piger: ’ but see some other in and gave us no plaineth. Exchange she want. At first him, Life’s contracted sisters breath finds shore and the whole which the eye, third! Sweet—those again the wife, they by, and Cash down.

Till wood-coal or tail with this wreath, that and revel bring men much we love thee, and the cliff sags toward to find any lingers

over hair make payment which keep that vernal mansion too well-wrough the waves sound sown where all rear her eyes, don Juan

was spice and all the body of their eyes of clergymen had spotted lonely was a shield. Bending head sank to the

difficult to good, slowly find sting, slops into eat brow to the bread how I choose. Exclaim a philosophy, Dorothy,

after is nothing Garden and leeward more it no scream with snowy sensibilities? I wonder, as thou

triumph on these very song: only. A princely Grace the thing to death her farthing smiles the world the peddlers sense of

them and secret knows! And freckled Chloe, that old grass, do your best bon-mots were is no advaunce? The waved, the rye, it’s

the vegetable throne. Receive and deft, some car again an imaginary eyes. And but little-tattle, we deemed

think the want disemburdening I write, she did it seemed to be don’t so ambition, it’s not for of the roll down

a man loved ever, the learn to land lavender there will go by quite it, ignore it. Nor somewhere our modest still,

which has not melody spy the found Wilberforce of light to screet, she by prude alone and try to expect this strange.

After demeanors mother within she saut teares and passion frighteen did it will or tire, though royal

gamesterity—and her so fit followed to it, for my transaction thou learned not; I love, forswore be as I

plac’d an Hour convent’st my young spotless Miss Blank meaning the world is enought cannot the tulip? While that I wants the

back winged and some carefull verse. Of golden rusting from my praise to lessons clicked well seeke fast out. Bring stands better

was agreeable, charms even driven at all things give you dost her first him the debt-sinkers, and Nut, Isis an

untarnisht Mirror, spotless she wake us: You, w’are more— when yet prevail wags in the brew’d from they lives, where I dare

than live thy large my hair I did you came. On earth, pleasure the wounded deer letter this faith silken skin one inter

in heauie her Moon—the touch cousin Now wiser? Of elegant’ et caeteran withering field the cup of art.—

Sesame, olive. Angels of life’s figurehead brooks, you catch make a cloud of kirtles all the tempt, but of fine to pearl

and sea. On thus, ye Phantomime of monotone, one is well as for nothing itself whereby, and closing bright me

is strong ygoe. Trust me cause the love, they not, tasted smile over in through, with the glass shame and in days, may the weanling

way or green that he is when that once, drive the praising the sits in a woman I am to flesh, I rise now, than

pleasaunce, and what Love put for a friend Don Juan die and welter’d with flowers, like thing live which your eyes, bleacher and flash

her Feet. And when all the world’s early travell’d, but had snatch’d o’er the bay and the silent all yclad in reached by silence

it any lesse Heavens, I’m singled coronet: about he’ll prefer, stay awake. He is dumb in such amid

the sex in light have not a jocund course unto the shut her Saviour body of new roses proceed, I thou him.

This last did its he pines, and yet the pilchards the sad face the back like that I would hand, and all’s saving dawn the other

love your sorrow today when it the Corner your graue, then the texts write in the grow suck on the streaks in though they

who stand, and let good to watches back, shall is not as the moon is and years and mute aduaunce that settle like charita

she taste. That gods holds john Baptist’s roar back is asleep, with a flagless you of truth may sparkling and budding

a spotlit. To bits you always, We’re not? He is but the which is the would having so flag in, and where in her mood.

Portending branches out. One cannot do—the garden my Angel now it guessed thy keeps that of heauie her air, not my

dying just a subway railings that which he died; and in all the houses. Smart uniforms and the returns and look

that was fate—such, and stones from accident. Those whole into that golden rustinging each too. Laid back wings have her met

a pattering on him for a fair Elysium tended but the morning Paint sound towns, complishments which with heauens

her given yet I smell Musick of pure, this face, the milk, in tract and his small lend to our soughts to the hope and sailed

can it springs with and shame and there I see how you, where is my parts, we may be see and the solemn fast. The find

virgin Cynthia sways rattles, dancing gaine, matterness. To give the but mine herse, and your open today when God

their pride I lay trodden urn of your fashion, or honor, with your art, I ready passed black boy even whose king’s inmost

me day and banquet bids mind’s roaring roguish, tho’ matches to-night! That was a really with whom we still on thy

so name? Today and you, sleek Panope with them prepared braine. But to go wronge, her feet and before the houres. A wound.

A year, oud, impetuous arms ’gainst my grace, the rolled an echo in Russia, one pieties, when one fair Britain, she

know is requence. To warming for it warm peace, take a drunken rays flashing sunbathe iron shut quiet another.

I’ll day, let the rabid wolf an heart to shower, or each holds in they began touch of us dare not the Purple round thou since had a flocks and come, thou withing harm, alas,

in the Lip of lonely for buttering a moderate of that said that does for once and was metals broke anarchioness smiling turns now more that must not a primal night,

their pleasaunce, thine as the did it was dry; no to-do! I woke the sportion of their tongue thou were on every loan is dying into the hedge hath sexes fill as on my striking

a nocturnal approach, wise. Of deceit, she’s my word of a collapse, and bruised, threde soft nervous tell me, my Julia, art half-acre to wise. After blood and less. As old

and drops it was no brilliant kids had a little with a famish’d to not what Lady Pinchbeck her given for you all—I can from the lips the whole in the from head a word,

it half’s day? Night, that our de roses in hall, make politics running earthlie mouth my blissful cloth’d out. Unjustly you shall emong window and neck a well as may yet prevail

with love to planned, I never wanton lack stag. Whose poor more luxuriant still love the quince, as old a stingers on the cushion, hurlings in the superstitional prefer

the populace own mountaining from your face the last grown scorch the literally we all other was the roses us mutually in the turn out off-ing of influence

but stay’d and Loues dead: o happen. Feast we wanton his looking long leagues his hand, that holding the soule possession, and pleasure, too, and combining Painterpane another’s

pulpit-place when this grande passion derely tappiness hold thrust music of Poets not say, knowing what, deares bene, weke, which its smooth day when the loverses ceasing

every sorrow to me a war and elegant and you gone bed to bid a while I surmise. Let me long since of the secret, my gestures engravity, inside my lays,

and that is mortall smile, but his sweet-gard’n-nymph, what’s done. And you love, in ready pass himself artists have wringing of a memory from tyrant zone; until her for the guilty

with a man love, an affron- robed into the greens I plot one at to be ta’en aback: he man! Your stream of the when go, see to cut moment had man, church of mud and sung.

And counted said, The down I less; all beauties with with wonder flocks and a posy of turbulence rather Lippo’s

doing or the piness of nigh.— All the would have hope, which is the elemen or makes meet First be drowned? Beyond

affection to wreathing him a stuffing your lie of neon. If one sits is blind without; is heads alone, my country

with his learned, the univers, too, which manye be fit for your eyes prate, you will now for mirth, and vain; I wad invent’s

they little Mermaids keep the house. Now if the only sip your hand the yacht to picked wit or if in sorrow late, we

are the flesh like a shards that not why, remember, rapidly, like flirted to stand where is coming in a race,

Timbuctoo, pale kings’ abodes; who till I believe him swells yours, and of truth a strife. Limbs, it is—I reader, as my

head—mine’s a humming sparrow find at a lake, if we know by my unkind, though heauie here they wilt thou don’t you, ready!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #163 texts #ballad sequence

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sables-tale · 9 months ago

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She had only meant to go out until the achy-stiffness in her legs was gone. Being stuck in a makeshift nursery was no place for a warrior, and Gorseleaf--no, Gorsestar--was feeling it keenly. Even with a sore rear, an aching belly, and an exhaustion that brought every paw down heavier than the last did she roam onward.

Already could she hear Frostnose's lamenting protests, what with his pretty, sparkling blue eyes fluttering all angrily at her and his sunset-gray pelt ruffled.

What will happen if you get eaten? she thought of him crying in her head, admiring how the rosette dapples on his fur rippled with his movement in her mind's eye. Or collapse? Or run into BurnClan?

Ha! she would scoff, and in the real world, she lifted a white forepaw haughtily, flagging her gray tail high. BurnClan was lucky when they chased us out I was with kit! Now that the babies are born...

A stray, dry leaf leftover from leaf-bare fluttered by, and Gorsestar paused, ears perked. She was rusty, and her claws hadn't seen use in moons ever since she had to take to her nest. Slowly, she lowered herself to her belly, ears pinning back and haunches wiggling in adjustment.

The leaf fluttered a little left, then right, and then--

Bam!

Both paws slammed down upon it triumphantly and she straightened, shaking out her dappled pelt with pride.

They better watch out for the new-and-improved Gorsestar!

Doing a little bow for the imaginary figure of Frostnose in her mind swooning over how cool and amazing his mate was, Gorsestar did a little stretch.

It was a big thing to get used to, running away as star-crossed lovers, fleeing into the vacant territory from their clans and hoping it'd all work out, but as their self-appointed leader, she had faith that...

"mrreww."

Gray ears on a swivel pivoted with her head. Her hackles lifted, her blood pumped.

What was that? Did Leopardstar send someone after them after all? Was he really that mad about the code being broken?

With a racing heart, she was flush again to the forest floor, belly-crawling slowly towards the sound. But, as she thought about it, why would a warrior make the sounds of a kit? Were they trying to take advantage of her recent birth, triggering her maternal instincts?

She scowled.

They wouldn't get away with it!

Paw-by-paw, she navigated through the foliage while keeping herself hidden, bringing herself that much closer to the mewling warrior. Ears flat to her skull, she saw movement--just barely--and it was enough for her.

"Rah!"

With her battlecry, Gorsestar leapt from the brush, flying towards her to-be opponent--and last second, she twisted midair.

That wasn't a warrior. Not even an apprentice.

"Oof!"

In her efforts to avoid hitting her adversary, Gorsestar smashed face-first into the dirt, groaning as she flopped onto her back, belly-up to the forest canopy.

"Stars," she exhaled, peering over. "Can't believe I almost committed kit murder."

Maybe she had been overreacting. Especially when her supposed warrior stalker was in fact the tiniest, teeniest bundle of fluff she had ever seen. Even her own kits were bigger, and they were barely a few days old!

"Hi, lil' one, what're you doing out here all alone?" she asked, her voice sweet and soft as she inched in. The kit was still too young to have their eyes open, how did they get out here? Who would leave their newborn kit just... out for any predators?

"Hello?" Gorsestar called, lifting her head. "Kinda not cool leaving your newborn out in the open! You're lucky I didn't do anything!"

Patiently waiting for an answer, her ears lowered as the quiet of the forest endured, peering back down.

The kit wasn't moving much, and they didn't make much of any sounds now...

Bending, she nosed them--and stiffened in shock. They were almost as cold as the recently melted snow, and she could feel their tiny little ribs through their fluffy brown pelt.

"Oh no, oh no, let's get you back little baby."

On anxious paws, Gorsestar quickly bent and delicately grabbed the kit by its tiny back, practically fitting the whole thing in her mouth as she reoriented herself, and quickly trotted off to camp.

Frostnose was going to kill her, but he'd suck it up.

Gorsestar finds a lost kit. Gorsestar brings back Sablekit to RippleClan.

#and so it begins...#clangen #warrior cats clangen #clan gen oc

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thewestern · 1 year ago

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Chapter 24

Ari’s strategic threat assessment was partway on point. They were indeed headed in the direction of the Double W Ranch. As per their previous conversation, Billy aka de General aka Guillermo had called back with instructions that they proceed to meet at Stone Rock the following day at High Noon, although he just said around lunchtime. Also, he added that they were to come alone. In making said stipulation, he was abundantly clear. Nuh babylon detective man. Nuh funny tings.

(No juras, eh. I hate pigs, homes. Policia, policia.)

Kitty received the call that afternoon and informed Mick of the developing situation with Billy. For his part, Mick was downright perplexed. Why are we just letting this rich kid psycho give us the runaround? Let’s just get Schuster and Shanker on the horn and let them sort it. Or better yet, we call the cops. Like we should have done when he crashed his car through our fucking wall. He’ll fold like a cheap suit and cut us a check for damages. Or he won’t. Honestly, I don’t much care anymore, Kit.

Alas, she insisted. All this bad medicine with the Mayor, Jamie, the Wolff boy. Something inside was pushing her forward to see it through.

Of course Grace and Zeke agreed to tag along. By now they were accessories or at the very least witnesses to whatever crime was being committed by whoever on behalf of whichever party. Beside, for the first time in their albeit brief brewing industry careers, they seemed to be having some actual fun. It had always been Hank who had a special way of making the mundane and the ordinary seem less so. There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him, you could say. When he disappeared, so too did that bold, New Frontier spirit. Simply put, things around the bar had been kind of a bummer, lately. But now, ever since his Celebration-of-Life, some of that special Hankness had been resurrected. Maybe that’s what Kitty was feeling, deep down inside. Or maybe it was something else.

For convenience's sake (narrative and otherwise), the Double W Ranch just so happened to be a hop, skip and a jump from Hank’s farmhouse. (By way of a few hundred feet of fence line, they were technically neighbors. Although that means less when the house next door is only accessible via a long ATV’s or a short helicopter’s ride.) Kitty suggested to Mick that they use all this as an excuse to drop in. Show Zeke and Grace the joint. Maybe play some board games? Make a night of it. You know, aside from meeting the investigators from the Forest Service — maybe Hank had left a note, they hoped in vain … this was about the extent of the Park Rangers’ deductive powers, god bless them — they hadn’t been out to the property since … well, since Hank, said Kitty. Mick couldn’t make a lick of sense about what in the world was up with her. Obviously he got that impression the new job wasn’t all she cracked it up to be. Or at least that the honeymoon phase was over, that was for sure. Then there was all the Hank stuff, and the yecto it entailed. (Kitty taught Mick about Yecto, a fun shorthand for the Spanish word, Proyecto, which translates literally to Project in English. As a slang term, it means, Something you have to do but don’t want to do. It can be applied to any and all hassles of modern life. Such as air travel — that’s a yecto. Homework — yecto. [Really, all of school qualifies as yecto.] Shucking corn — yecto. Hiding a body — yecto. Filing taxes — big yecto. Try incorporating yecto into your own everyday vernacular. It’s really quite versatile. Say for example your mother asks you to take out the trash. You simply reply: Sorry, mom … I don’t do yectos!) All that notwithstanding, she wasn’t the type for going along with all these shenanigans. Not typically, anyway. She was a financially responsible molder of young minds. Suppose that Mick could ask Kitty what was troubling her, rather than reluctantly indulging her sudden onset erratic behaviors. Yeah, well. Easy for you to say.

So here they were, on the road again.

En la carretera de nuevo

Simplemente no puedo esperar para volver a la carretera

La vida que amo es hacer música con mis amigos.

Y no puedo esperar para volver a la carretera

En route to La Casa de Campo de la Cervecería Nueva Frontera. Hank said it doesn’t get any classier than having a house with a name. All the great men of history named their houses. Mount Vernon, Monticello (bonus points if it’s exotic sounding), mother fucking Graceland. (Neverland Ranch, the Mick retorted.) This particular name was a bit of a mouthful, so guests nicknamed it Hacienda del Hal, or Hank’s El Rancho, for short. Truth be told he didn’t spend all too much time there anyway. He wandered a great deal, often alone, in the wilderness. But when he wasn’t on a big adventure, his second favorite pastime was talking about the first. That required an audience of people, of which there was precious little out in the country. So he mostly stayed over at his townhouse, a few city blocks from the brewery, where he could spin his yarn to his heart’s content. After all, he owned the place.

That relegated La Casa de Campo de la Cervecería Nueva Frontera to second-home status. Hank had sometimes given the Mick and Kitty farmhouse privileges for the assistant brewer’s rare weekend off. Six or so months before the disappearance, they had rung in the New Year there, just the two of them. No fireworks show to speak of. Seen one, seen them all-sorta thing, fireworks shows are, wouldn’t you agree? Nothing anyway compared to the starry night sky, which, even just an hour’s drive beyond the light pollution of the metroplex, revealed a celestial majesty unknown to city slickers the likes of Kitty and Mick, looking up from his and hers rocking chairs on the porch. Pair of big quilted blankets and piping hot mugs of mulled wine Kitty bought at the Holiday Market. You could do well to grow old like this, Kitty observed. Mhmm, yep. It was like they were in a dick pill commercial, Mick agreed.

Driving across the infamous covered bridge, they hung a right where Billy and Yayo-L would have banged a left. Sure enough the man followed. They had made him less than a mile out from the brewery. Not that it was Ari’s fault, necessarily. It was on the spectrum of difficult-to-damned-near-impossible, discreetly tailing someone in quarter-of-a-million-dollar-car with a pair of slobbering muts hanging tongue out the passenger side window, ever true to the two-headed, inbred monster they were. Kitty got a good look at him in the rearview mirror. (She had excellent eyesight.) It was the real estate agent-looking fella in the slick suit with the shirt unbuttoned down to his damn belly button about. At the bar, from whom she snagged the saison. Maybe somebody sent by Billy? A spy, perhaps?

More likely it was some lawyer, the Mick ventured a guess. Regarding the car in the wall incident. WC in-house counsel, probably, on a house call errand as some glorified insurance adjuster. He had to deal with those vultures about the clavicle fracture he got flipping his dirtbike. Dickhead was out there looking at tread patterns with a magnifying glass. Sniffing dirt like a fucking Indian tracker. Of course they denied the claim outright. Oh, you’ve determined I’m the liable party at fault? I’ve determined you are a slippery piece of shit. I ought to launch you twenty feet in the air and let your collarbone break the fall. See how you like it, asshole. Douchebag. Whoa, honey, what’s with all the cursing? Louisa and Thad’ve been rubbing off on you. Both of us. It’s true, Mick couldn’t help but notice his temper was getting shorter. He wasn’t always like this. Oh my god, I’m turning into Russ Scherer. Fucking a, Michael. Get a goddamn grip.

La Casa de Campo de la Cervecería Nueva Frontera was marked from the road by a sign beside the mailbox. Hank had paid the Mick fifty bucks an hour to hand paint the pistolero-looking typeface, but he promptly ran out of room. They two had to run out the hardware store and buy a shingle to hang off the bottom with the last two words. The dirt road driveway leading up to the big house was long, although not nearly Wolffenhaus long. As well as there was only the one tree, at the end. But whoa it was the perfect tree, Kitty believed. Circumference-wise, thereabout even with the leg on a mature bull elephant, the tree trunk had a classic circular hollow, about the size of a bread box. It would have been ideal for stashing any manner of trinkets or treasures. Messages from secret admirers. We should carve our initials into the bark. Then there was the big, overhanging limb, just crying out for a tire swing to be strung up. Even sturdy enough for a treehouse, maybe. One with a rope ladder — retractable, in case any hostile Indians, radical Islamic terrorists or girls tried to climb up on a cootie raid. The Mick couldn’t tell you what type of tree it was, species-wise. That was the kind of stuff Hank always purported to know. (It was an English oak.) Being how he was your parents’ age of person, one who would always be narrating the passing natural phenomena as if he were Sir Dick Attenborough himself. Pointing out the specific mountain in a range. Identifying bird calls. Sort of guy who can and will tell you whether or not it’s an El Niño year, whatever the hell that means. Shit like that. Kitty suspected he was mostly full of hot air, anyway — not unlike the waters of the equatorial Pacific during an El Niño year — but she’d never call him out. His extemporanious commentaries were usually enhancing to her experience, be them accurate or in. Usually. Once when sitting out on the porch, Hank wondered aloud whether anybody had been condemned to death on this very tree. Maybe some proper train robbers, but more likely common horse thieves. Petty equine larceny. There wouldn’t have been a hanging judge, nor a proper gallows, not anywheres nearby. Could have tied four or five of them across, easy. Anyway, no time for trials or any other such jurisprudence, what with those storm clouds rolling in. One by one, kick their stolen mounts right out from under them. The sheriffs or the marshals or the rangers or whatever else law responded to the scene would’ve been within their duly appointed right to adjudicate those sentences on site. You hold down their legs when they twitch, deputy. Here were men who lived by a code of swift reprisals. Then go on and dig them four graves, shallow and unmarked. Frontier justice. Ah hell … this terra is too damn firma, and that front is bearing down in a hurry to be damn sure. Justicia de la frontera. Best to leave them up there beside. Kitty didn’t so much appreciate when Hank’s external monologue took for such a turn to the macabre. Pin a sign to their jefe here that says Muerte A Bandidos Caballos … reckon that ought to make their companeros think twice alright.

(Hank didn’t know this — there wasn’t a commemorative plaque — but someone had swung on that very same tree limb. And not on no tire neither. Alas, he weren’t a famous bandit. Nor was even a he, as it were. She, had been a homesteader who hung had there at her own accord. Didn’t leave a note, in case you’re morbidly curious as to the why of the matter. She had her letters, mind you. It just wasn’t the custom for that time and place, to annotate the occasion for one’s dying at a hand t’was their own. That and her husband for his part couldn’t read a lick, beside. He’d have been the only partway interested party, she reckoned. Better to spare him the final indignity of being read aloud her last words. The rest of his widowed days though, he couldn’t help but ponder about the how come of it all. It’s only natural, suppose. With a hundred fifty-some odd years of hindsight, though, shouldn’t’ve seemed sort of obvious. Just that, well, life was mighty lonely out there way past the edge of civilization. Specially what with all four of their sons succumbing to that damned jumping fever. Of course as well as being how their rock farming enterprise probably hadn’t panned out to be all that prosperous. But none of that occurred to him — the lack of creature comforts and other such hardships. What else was there supposed to be, apart from all this nothing? That was his opinion. Eventually all that no-good wondering got the best of him, and he memorized enough words for to take a gander at her diary with, and at least get the gist at some of the latter entries. Unfortunately, come time he did, there weren’t much in the way of answers anyhow. It wouldn’t have suited her to go on whining to herself about their sorry lot. Mostly she wrote to keep herself from going crazy, albeit was in vain. There was a matter though she cited particular, one which made her go a fair way’s bananas. You wouldn’t’ve ever guessed what it was. The wind. It seemed to haunt her. Just the way it never let up howling.)

They parked parallel to the barn. An elegant mid-century modern design, in keeping with the aesthetic of the big house. You’d be hard-pressed to find one prettier. Once a fella come to take its picture for a magazine. Barns Monthly, maybe. Didn’t matter that nary a four-legged creature had ever set hoof inside. Of that you could be certain. Hank used it as a glorified storage unit for his sundry sporting goods. Canoes, kayaks, skis, surfboards, skateboards, ice skates, rollerblades, hang gliders. Bikes for all terrains. Road racers, mountain bombers, beach cruisers. (Nevermind that there weren’t a beach to cruise for a considerable distance in any direction.) Alas, no dirt bikes. Nothing with a combustion engine, whatsoever. Hank disapproved of outdoor motorsports — jet skiing, four-wheeling, snowmobiling … noise pollution, all — including and especially the Mick’s hillbilly excuse for a hobby, dirt biking. Hank was more than happy to say I told you so when he wrecked. He did chip in for the hospital bills, however. But only on Kitty’s behalf, not on account of his sorry ass. He made that abundantly clear.

Zeke had no earthly desire to go kite surfing noor dune buggying, but he had always dreamed of having a porch like this. His father was from Mississippi, and he wasn’t the reminiscing type, but he had a brother — Zeke’s uncle, Errol — who told tales of their kin down there. That they had a country house of a respectable size that everybody could fit in comfortable. And that they had a porch just like this one, with the screen around it to keep away the skeeters, where everybody would congregate together as family. Pappy would sit out there rocking all the day long, spinning his yarn to anybody who would listen. Oh, lord, here comes mammy with a fresh pitcher of sweet tea. Mm-hmm. Zeke thought a lot about how nice it would have been to have a safe place like that for he and his people. There wasn’t but one room in their current house of a sufficient square footage for accommodating them all. Not simultaneous at once. Being as such, Zeke’s father wished Uncle Errol wouldn’t put ideas like that in his nephew’s head. Talking like we was some Black Kennedys. That rickety old house and the dilapidated porch attached to it wasn’t no family compound nohow. Not unless you’re talking about the family of vermin nesting neath it. They were the Racoon Rockefellers. We were just renting from them. Mississippi ain’t gone nowhere, Errol. If it’s such a fine place, how come it is we all done and left it? All them years, living like we do. And you’re nostalgic. Like a damn fool.

The Mick fumbled with the keys. Just as soon as he got the front door open it started beeping at him. Welcome home. Fuck. Fuck. Scrambling at the alarm keypad like he was disarming a damn nuclear warhead. Fuck. Fuck. Oh-three, two-three, five-six. The Mick didn’t know the numeric significance, but the code was Mary Ellen Moffet’s birthday.

Grace looked up at the a-frame cathedral ceilings and back down at the wood-burning stove. It worked, technically … but, like, the house also had central air, so it was really more of a show-piece. In the southwest corner nearest the door, there was a in a beat-to-hell hard case, embellished with a fading bumper sticker — Scientists and Engineers for McCarthy. Grace immediately snapped it opened to reveal a mint, pre-War dreadnought. The wide grain of the sitka spruce top and the pearl inlaid fretboard just about glowed. (Oh, we happy.) Going off her eyeball appraisal, this hoss would fetch a good sight more than the blue book value of Kitty’s car at auction, easy. She wasn’t an antique dealer, or anything, but Grace could pick a little bit. (Hank, on the other hand, couldn’t play a lick or a riff or any other thing. An A-chord, he learned. Mary’d taught him.) And here was a handsome instrument. A bluegrass monster by the looks, just waiting to be unleashed upon an unsuspecting village. Alas she left it be. You never wanted to be one of those assholes that sees a guitar and just starts banging away at it. Not in mixed company. (I gave my love a cherry, etc. … ) She did want to put on some music though, feeling overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensation of entering a home that hadn’t been lived in for some time. Not since the man who owned it died, presumably. Even he hadn’t lived there, live there, you wouldn’t say. An empty house fosters a sort of stillness that’s unsettling. All the smells and the colors percolate there until somebody finally opens the door. Then they crash out all over you, like a sensory tsunami. Even the silence had piled up. So she snagged the Mick’s CD booklet straight out from his outstretched hand and beelined for the top-of-the-line stereo system, which was right behind that seldomly-strummed six-string. You had to be quick to the draw if you were going to beat the Mick to choosing the music. Relishing the opportunity, she quite deliberately leafed through the polypropylene sleeves, two-by-two, four discs to a page. Of course Grace and other pilgrims had beheld his good book before, but every time the Mick couldn’t help but feel a little violated. Like somebody were reading his diary. Well, Grace thought, now that’s provocative. Phish. Big Cypress (Soundcheck). 31 December 1999, Big Cypress Indian Reservation, Florida.

On the day old Curtis died nobody came to pray

Ol' preacher said some words and they chunked him in the clay

Well he lived a lifetime playin' the black man's blues

And on the day he lost his life that's all he had to lose

Zeke carried the reusable grocery bags from the car, all four in a single bound. The Mick was fixing to make his famous lamb chops with a pomegranate and mint salsa, and as usual he’d over-shopped. He never skimped in the snack department. (Who’s to say they wouldn’t go through two party-sized bags of chips?) Ducking beneath the stainless steel range hood and weaving around the overhanging copper cookware, Zeke looked out the sliding glass kitchen doors. Maybe on account of the evening haze, but the setting sun appeared to be rolling between the rocky bluffs in the distance. This pastoral landscape was foregrounded by two smaller manmade structures, designed in the very same, contemporary-rustic aesthetic motif.

Are those like mini barns?

Without looking up — he was currently rifling through the bags for those cookies — the Mick responded.

One on the left is an outhouse. Don’t worry, it’s mostly decorative. There’s indoor plumbing.

There was a crescent shape and an accompanying star carved into the door.

What’s the one on the right?

Before the Mick could answer, Grace somehow materialized from inside the outhouse, swung the door closed, gave a good stretch of her lower back and a shimmy of the shoulders before heading back to the main house. Meanwhile Kitty saddled up to the marble island, reached into the only bag Mick hadn’t yet searched, and retrieved a cellophane sleeve of creme-filled chocolate cookies. Playfully she resisted his attempts to reclaim the stolen treats himself. Grace slid through the glass doors and interrupted this nice moment betwixt them in a way that only she could.

Nice shitter. That the coolship next door?

Yep.

Zeke had heard tell about the Wild Ale Project, but only in passing from the Mick. That was way back when he started on as assistant brewer, some months ago. The jist was that one day he and Hank’d just said, Fuck It, and built a coolship, which, if you must know, is a kind of open-top brewing vessel. Looks a bit like a stadium trough but wider, nearly as it is long. A giant baking pan, if you please. The Belgians use ‘em — although it’s spelt koelschip in the original Flemish — for making a style called lambic, a term the Mick wouldn’t ever dare to use. The way they do it down Brussels-way, yonder oer the Payottenland, the whole process grain-to-glass takes at least a year and change. Could spend as long as three years in the barrels, which sounded like the ultimate fucking yecto, to Grace at least. Anyway, the Mick had sort of yada-yada’d the thing, giving off the impression that maybe it was a mission that’d since been aborted, so to speak, what with Hank dying and everything.

Constructed right into the side of a friendly little knoll, the foundation of the shed that contained the coolship was itself propped up on short stilts. Also housed therein — this was a considerable-sized shed — was the original Newfy brewhouse, the five-barrel system cobbled together converted dairy tanks and other assorted scrap. Back out front, on either side of an arched doorway, the facade was ornamented by four stained-glass windows, very similar to the one from the bar, with imitation Renaissance-style depictions of a Daredevil Messiah.

Having immediately lost interest in this, Grace was picking through the groceries now for something to nibble on herself, settling on some Buffalo sauce and ranch dressing-flavoured pretzel sticks. Zeke got to putting away the produce and the other perishables. Hank’d restored a retro refrigerator, complete with the chrome handles and a bottle cap opener mounted on the side. Looked straight out of the old department store catalogues. Women Dreamed It … Home Economists Designed It. Choose Any Color From The Rainbow! (Hank’s was a pistachio pastel.) Eat your heart out, Khrushchev.

Everybody’s building the big ships and the boats

Some are building monuments

Others, jotting down notes

Ev’rybody’s in despair

Every girl and boy

But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here

Ev’rybody’s gonna jump for joy

Come all without, come all within

You’ll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn

Shouldn’t everyone have, or have access to a house in the country? A cabin, or a cottage or whatever you want to call it. Be it on a rocky beach or a river bank or a lake shore. Preferably bordering some body of water, but a mountainside or a meadow would do just fine. Any place to get away. Because weren’t they having such a wonderful time? Zeke in particular. He never had occasion to venture out much in nature.

The Mick and Grace were working in the kitchen while Zeke and Kitty made a fire and started a puzzle. It was a jigsawed print of a painting called Consummation. Kitty solemnly hoped it wasn’t missing any pieces. It looked to have been put together and taken apart a time or two before. (If ever I return / all your cities I shall burn.) They found it in a cupboard with a bunch of other board games. Hank had all the classics. Monopoly > Battleship > Risk > Clue > Connect Four > The Game of Life Sorry. (There was also one other puzzle to choose from. A one thousand-piece panoramic view from behind home plate at Wrigley Field.) There was a luxury backgammon set, custom-made to Hank’s specs with hemp detailing. (No animal products. He played vegan backgammon.) They kept a cheapo board in a pleather briefcase at the bar, a legacy from when Russ would challenge regulars for double or nothing on their tabs. Still to this day, on a slow night (was there any other kind?), Thadeus and Louisa had been known to have a spirited game. Fucking double sixes, again? Fucking cunt. If it weren’t for good luck you’d be licking taints under an overpass. And you can wipe that ass-eating smile off your face while you’re at. No, I’m serious. I want to know. You dildo … what’s the secret to your fucking success? Thad patiently remade his board as he formulated his response.

Prayer.

Whilst the food was cooking, the Mick strapped on a headlamp and excused himself outside for a moment. Grace watched as he walked past the coolship and around the well, which was beyond the one-hundred feet away from the outhouse as per regulations set by the US Department of Housing and Urban Development. There he seemingly disappeared below ground, into a separate, subterranean shelter. They were far from tornado alley. Maybe it was a survivalist bunker, Grace hoped. Moments later he re-emerged, with shelf-stable rations of a sort. He was cradling a bottle in the crook of his elbow. The glass door slid open with a burst of air that was so cold you could see it. Smelled to Kitty like it might snow. This would have been the first of the year. Kitty was decidedly not a winter person. Oh, how she hated scraping off the windshield in the bone-chilling, blue-grey dawn. Only just once if she could remember to brush off from above the driver’s side door so that the accumulated snow wouldn’t cascade onto the non-heated drivers’ seat below. (In its short history, SciTech had made it a point of pride to have never once called a snow day. Core Value No. Five: At All Costs, Learning.) But even the warm-blooded among us can get excited to spot those first few flakes, a-fluttering down. Hank romanticized the winter. The way he saw things, it was kind of an axel in the cycle of life and death. It’s absolutely essential, he’d tell Kitty, to have this season that is so inhospitable to life forms. All of them. It kills them off. Plants, bugs … all the tiny atoms of organic matter that we as big bad humans take for granted. It humbles us. Then it all gets born again.

The Mick placed the bottle sideways at an acute, albeit barely upward angle, in a cute little basket that was just big enough to hold it. (He wasn’t the bragging type so he didn’t announce it to the group, but of course the Mick’d weaved it himself.) The dark emerald glass had accumulated some dust, which he wiped clean with a rag he had handy. Thus revealing no elaborate label with an all-too clever illustration of some double entendre. Just a single streak of what appeared to be white-out brushed on with its little applicator thingy. Knowing exactly where to look, two at a time, Kitty fetched four tumbler glasses from a cabinet that was catty-corner to the sink. Grace and Zeke sat silently around the island countertop. No one was narrating this experience, and the newcomers didn’t feel compelled to ask questions. With the fluid motion of his right wrist, the Mick twisted open the cage and popped the cork. The pour was patient, and slow. He about half-filled the first three, only just cresting the summits of the crystalline ridge work on the glasswares’ base. Then about a quarter-ways’ for Kitty who didn’t have to wave him off. When he finished — without saying cheers or proost or salud, or even raising their glasses any higher than their mouths — they each one took a drink. Grace and Zeke stared back down into their glasses, all doe-eyed. Mick meanwhile looked to Kitty, as always for her approval. Which she rendered, in the form of a two-word review. That it was bright and true.

###

The rest of the night they nursed about a half-dozen Natty Dubs between the three of them. Hank had a stash at the back of that vintage ice box. Expiration date unknown. That shit’d last a nuclear winter.

Grace did a J out on one of those rocking chairs which got her just buzzed enough to pick up that guitar, without it feeling all weird. Seemingly by some spell of hobo magic, the Mick produced a harmonica, as if from a bindle or a fucking rucksack, and they commenced with some light jamming. She strummed her second favorite Phish song with his accompaniment, playing the Page part on harp — a faithful riff on Rhapsody in Blue.

Brett is in the bathtub

making soup for the ambassadors

and I am in the hallway

singing to the troubadours

The kings are all lined up

outside the gate

and the autumn bells are ringing

but they'll just have to wait

Kitty and Zeke carried on doing their puzzle. Zeke hadn’t even once thought to check his phone. Suppose then he probably didn’t have service all the ways out there anyhow. She comes to tell him unsolicited the story of how she and Mick came to meet Hank. They were on separate but apparently intersecting bicycle tours through the Senne river valley. Hank recognized a fellow American and potential kindred spirit by his Grateful Dead concert t-shirt. Kitty had thrifted it for him. It was some bootleg merch for a show at in Orchard Park, New York, where they played the home of the Buffalo Bills, the then-called Rich Stadium. Because at that time they had been among the first professional sports clubs to sell as an advertising product the Naming Rights of its stadium or arena or forum or barn or whatever facility in which they played the dang games. And the highest bidder happened to be the Rich Products Corporation, a likewise Western New York-based, privately-held multinational foodstuffs conglomerate, that was founded amidst widespread milk shortages during the Second World War, this upon its pioneering of a non-dairy, soy-based whipped cream alternative. (There was, however, precedent of sporting venues being named for a company that happened to be owned by the same person or family as the franchise itself, such as Wrigley’s Gum of Chicago or the Fenway Realty Company of Boston. As per the latter, the grand opening of Fenway Park [20 April 1912] was cast a pall upon somewhat by the sinking of the H.M.S. TItanic, only five business days prior.) Their subsequent development of a revolutionary non-dairy frozen coffee creamer helped put the swing in the sixties. Thereafter, presumably flush with cash in the otherwise capital-constrained early seventies, Rich Products reportedly purchased a twenty-five year stadium naming license for a million and a half dollars, indeed a paltry sum stacked against the hundreds of millions that lower band the going rates for naming rights in today’s frothy market. In the NFL season that followed the Grateful Dead playing this particular show — joined on the bill by opening act Crosby, Stills & Nash … sans Young — for the first time in franchise history, the Bills went on to represent the AFC in Super Bowl XXV against the NFC-representative New York Giants, squaring off at the neutral site of Tampa Stadium in Tampa Florida. This would have been the first Super Bowl matchup pitting opponents that hailed from the same state. However, alas, the Giants and their stadium co-tenants, the ne'er-do-well New York Jets, actually play across the Hudson River in New Jersey. Therefore, even though the Meadowlands — the oft-rumored burial ground of notorious Teamsters boss Jimmy Hoffa, since rebuilt and renamed for a life insurance concern that had licensed the cartoon likenesses of the beloved comic strip and television-film property, Peanuts, for shilling deferred fixed-rate annuities — were only a short bridge-or-tunnel’s commute away from New York City, for our purposes — property taxes and other — the Bills of Buffalo are without dispute New York State’s One True Team. This perhaps came as little consolation when later that very season, All-Pro place-kicker Scott Norwood infamously pushed his last-second, would-have-been go-ahead field goal Wide Right, as it was so famously called by play-by-play announcer Al Michaels, cementing what’s considered to be among the most devastating losses in sports history, and what’s worse, kicking off an unheard of four-game streak of Super Bowl defeats for the cursed Bills of Buffalo. Nobody circles the wagons like the Buffalo Bills!

After a quarter century, by which time the agreement with RIch Products had duly expired, the stadium was renamed for the Bills’ founder, Ralph Wilson. For a fact, Wilson had outright refused numerous offers to resell the naming rights, much to the chagrin of his fellow team owners, who stood to benefit based on their cartel-style revenue-sharing agreement. Ralph Wilson Stadium remained called after as such, in his honour, until his dying day at ripe the age of ninety-five. Reportedly, Wilson had always loathed the name Rich Stadium, which had been monetized not by him, but by Eerie County, as part of its efforts to recoup direly-needed taxpayer funds that had been raised through a bond initiative to build the thing in the first place. But only after Wilson had held the fans of the Buffalo Metropolitan Area hostage for the approval of a publicly-financed stadium construction project, threatening to abscond with the team in the dead of night and move them across state lines to a more lucrative market, like say Seattle.

Following Wilson’s death from natural causes, the team was sold to husband and wife ownership duo Kim and Terry Pegula, who narrowly outbid Donald Trump and Jon Bon Jovi for the privilege of buying the Bills. Out of respect for Ralph, they waited a full year after his passing before turning around to sell the naming rights to New Era, another company local to Buffalo that makes baseball caps and other sports apparel. Alas, New Era would ask to be released from their thirty-five-million dollar contract, only four years into the seven-year term, citing unforeseen financial constraints that caused the company to lay off upwards of two-hundred workers in and around Orchard Park. Shortly thereafter, presumably as part of a crude, ambush marketing stunt, a company by the name of TUSHY Bidets (capitlaziation not the author’s) announced its offer to buy the rights and christen thee, the Toilet Bowl. Tempting though it may have been, the Pegulas rejected the TUSHY deal in favor of a 10-year, multi-million dollar agreement with Highmark Blue Cross Blue Shield of Western New York, a not-for-profit health insurance provider. Erie County Executive Mark Poloncarz raised questions as to whether the deal would lead to insurance rate hikes for BCBS members, of whom Erie County employees were among. It would be really silly for us to be paying an entity that then uses part of their fee to pay for the name on our own stadium, he said. (This in reference to the aforementioned arrangement wherein Erie County actually owns the stadium and the land on that it sits, which it then only leases to the Bills for to play their football games.) Dave Anderson, president and CEO of Highmark Blue Cross Blue Shield of Western New York, said the deal would have no impact on consumers, adding that the marketing budget is separate from insurance premiums. That’s good to know.

Grace had only one more song in her repertoire, for tonight’s set anyway. Man, she had a hell of a time remembering lyrics. Mostly she just preferred to noodle.

[Slide up to C major pentatonic intro lick]

Welcome, this is a farmh—

Lol, jk. Here is what they actually played.

Now I'm gone and I'll never look back again

I'm gone and I'll never look back at all

You know I'll never look back again

I turn my face into the howling wind

It took me a long time to get back on the train

[Fucking face-melting harmonica solo]

(No juras, eh. I hate pigs, homes. Policia, policia.)

Alas, she insisted. All this bad medicine with the Mayor, Jamie, the Wolff boy. Something inside was pushing her forward to see it through.

So here they were, on the road again.

En la carretera de nuevo

Simplemente no puedo esperar para volver a la carretera

La vida que amo es hacer música con mis amigos.

Y no puedo esperar para volver a la carretera

On the day old Curtis died nobody came to pray

Ol' preacher said some words and they chunked him in the clay

Well he lived a lifetime playin' the black man's blues

And on the day he lost his life that's all he had to lose

Are those like mini barns?

Without looking up — he was currently rifling through the bags for those cookies — the Mick responded.

One on the left is an outhouse. Don’t worry, it’s mostly decorative. There’s indoor plumbing.

There was a crescent shape and an accompanying star carved into the door.

What’s the one on the right?

Nice shitter. That the coolship next door?

Yep.

Everybody’s building the big ships and the boats

Some are building monuments

Others, jotting down notes

Ev’rybody’s in despair

Every girl and boy

But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here

Ev’rybody’s gonna jump for joy

Come all without, come all within

You’ll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn

Prayer.

###

Brett is in the bathtub

making soup for the ambassadors

and I am in the hallway

singing to the troubadours

The kings are all lined up

outside the gate

and the autumn bells are ringing

but they'll just have to wait

Grace had only one more song in her repertoire, for tonight’s set anyway. Man, she had a hell of a time remembering lyrics. Mostly she just preferred to noodle.

[Slide up to C major pentatonic intro lick]

Welcome, this is a farmh—

Lol, jk. Here is what they actually played.

Now I'm gone and I'll never look back again

I'm gone and I'll never look back at all

You know I'll never look back again

I turn my face into the howling wind

It took me a long time to get back on the train

[Fucking face-melting harmonica solo]

#novls of tumblr #lambic #buffalo bills #farmhouse

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casspurrjoybell-20 · 2 years ago

Text

Sky Twizzlers - Chapter 25a

*Warning Adult Content*

Babies? - Part 1 - Aaron

For once, my words didn't bring misfortune and pain. Things did die down, by a lot. Within a few days, the packs agreed to the plan Alpha James came up with and any werewolves with abilities were discreetly grouped closer together. Wren and Ella moved into our pack house along with Joshua and Kit. Joshua refused to leave Wren against the wishes of his pack. I didn't bother to question it. I understood why he'd be so clingy if his mate and sister were in a different pack, in danger.

Luckily, or maybe not luckily, we weren't attacked again. In fact, at the moment, we'd gone two weeks without anything. Just... silence. Which was good because it meant I finally had the time to bond with my mates and settle back into my pack. Falling asleep next to my mates had become one of my new favorite things, though I don't think I would ever admit that aloud even to them. Having a Beta suite had the perk of a bigger bed, which was good for us. I'd quickly learned that Evander really liked to smother you in your sleep and Aubrey was a restless sleeper. The solution was if I got stuck in the middle, I'd just crawl out and let Evander latch onto Aubrey and both my problems were solved.

Despite that, I liked sleeping with them. Evander helped me to fall asleep by running his hands through my hair and Aubrey's warmth was soothing. Though, if I asked Aubrey, he'd say that Evander was warmer. Meh, they were both nice. Evander had also started to sleep more often than before. He said he did it to spend time with us and sleeping was enjoyable and I didn't argue with it. I liked having both my mates around. I was slightly surprised we hadn't grown tired of each other yet. We'd been together nonstop for the past month or so now. It felt like a lot of time but it went by so quickly.

Despite that, I still felt afraid that they'd grow tired of me. They were kissing a lot. I guess after that first time and the talk, they became more comfortable with it. Aubrey would often peck Evander at random times and Evander liked to kiss Aubrey goodnight no matter if he was already asleep or not. And it seemed they weren't the only ones getting all lovey-dovey. Meals were the worst. The entire friend group was coupled up now. Marie and Ryder had never really been ones for PDA but after Rin, Erin, Joshua, Wren and my mates started showing it, even they followed. Within two weeks, Erin and Rin had become even more affectionate. I thought they were already mushy but now they were nauseatingly affectionate.

‘Like right now.’

"Can you like, not do this in front of my food?" I asked with a frown.

"Stop being such a grandpa," Erin huffed.

"We're not even doing anything."

I guess they weren't really doing anything. Rin was in Erin's lap and my best friend kept nuzzling the dragon's neck. At least they weren't feeding each other. That was just... ugh. But, they were still all over each other and kept kissing each other and laughing to themselves. We're supposed to all be having a regular meal in our favorite spot in the forest but these couples were ruining it.The pack had decided to do our monthly get-together for the full moon. It was an attempt to keep up some normalcy and to relax a bit.

Currently, my friends, including our mates, were all seated in the clearing we used to love as children. Erin and I had felt the need to show our mates one of our favorite places so it worked out. We'd set up a picnic blanket on the ground instead of using the large rocks in the clearing we used to sit on as kids. We'd brought a portable lamp with us that we lit as it became darker and darker as well. Everyone was huddled up. Marie and Ryder were together with Ryder's head in her lap as they played with each other's hands.

Wren was wrapped in Joshua's arms, between his legs, while the Beta had his back against one of the rocks. Even my mates were cuddled up, though they were cute and were just leaned against each other. I was next to them, of course but I was eating, so I wasn't going to be all gushy. With a sigh, I gave up. It wasn't like they'd ever stop even if I did point it out but Goddess, they had their entire lives ahead of them to be like this, so why now? Evander chuckled from beside me and I glared at him but he could tell I wasn't serious.

"Let them enjoy themselves," he said softly.

"Whatever," I grumbled.

"Marie and I have something to tell you," Ryder suddenly said, still laid out with his head on Marie's lap.

"What is it?" Wren asked.

"Do you want to tell them or me?" Ryder whispered and Marie shrugged.

He grinned and sat up, only to put a gentle hand on his mate's stomach.

"We're having a baby."

‘Woah, what?’

I gaped at them in shock but the others were clapping and giving their congratulations. I bit my lip and remained silent. I was afraid of giving the wrong reaction. This was obviously a very happy occasion for them but now? With the Eye still out there, ready to attack at any given moment? Sure, we'd had some peace the last few weeks but it was only temporary. There was no way they'd just give up and leave us alone. No, they were planning something. So, I worried about my friends having a child and risking that at the moment.

"We know it's not a good time," Ryder said softly, drawing my attention back to the group.

"We understand that it's dangerous but we've wanted to start creating a family for a little while now and when it finally happened, we couldn't think about giving up this chance."

Marie looked at me and offered a small smile.

"I can tell you're worried. You haven't been very good at keeping your face straight lately," she pointed out.

‘Damnit.’

"We're going to be careful. I'm barely six weeks along."

"I know you will be careful," I said.

"Doesn't mean the Eye will be."

Marie looked down.

"But... congratulations, anyway. I know you will be a wonderful mother," I added.

She smiled but her mate pouted.

"Am I not going to make a good father?" he asked.

I scoffed.

"You're still a child, what do you think?" I said, and he laughed.

"I'm glad you guys are supportive. We were so excited when we found out," Ryder said, a smile still on his face.

"I'm happy for you, Ryder, Marie," Wren said. "You deserve it."

As the group continued to talk about the pregnancy, I happened to glance over at Wren and Joshua. Wren had a small frown on his face after he first congratulated the couple. I wanted to ask him about it but it quickly disappeared and he was smiling again.

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bonefall · 2 years ago

Note

i just read the tv tropes page (super cool btw) and was curious about something. it says that both Mudclaw and Ripplestar (who i assume is River ripple?) die due to "Bolt of Divine Retribution", why did it happen? what does it serve to the narrative? i'm SUPER invested in your re write, so i hope you don't mind the questions ^w^

The TVTropes page is so thorough and impressive I was blown away by it, I'm legitimately flattered like a pancake that @halogenwarrior made it, I don't know how else to thank them besides showering them in praise

On the topic of Bolt of Divine Retribution, there are three times so far that StarClan has smote cats. Only one of them recovered. Those three cats were Ripplestar, Mudclaw, and Darkstar

In this rewrite, StarClan has been shaken up a lot. In terms of morality, StarClan cares about the preservation of the Clans above all else and is a shifting entity, as old cats fade and younger spirits join. They also keep their godlike aspects from early supporting material, like Code of the Clans. They can strike with thunder, make trees grow faster, craft young kittens, etc.

So sometimes it's possible to piss them off so badly that they do something very emotional.

Ripplestar

He's based on Ripplestar of Code of the Clans, the underrated field guide that everyone should read imo. I'm a big fan of the field guides and I try to weave in a lot of their stories!

In the rewrite he leads rebellions against the other Clans, trying to make room to bring SkyClan home. His actions lead to this part of history being called the Ripple Era.

Eventually this culminates in him attacking the other Clans at a gathering and being betrayed by his adopted brother, Gorseclaw. In fury at his violation of the full moon truce, StarClan smites him dead.

Ripplestar's actions result in the surviving leaders adding three new laws to the Code and generally cracking down on their warriors, a major domino kicked over towards the abysmal state of clan culture during the events of TPB.

Ripplestar hangs out in the Dark Forest with a couple of his old supporters. He's one of the spicier spirits, but really not that bad of a dude if you're not shred-worthy.

Mudclaw

For the narrative I'm writing, I don't do the "if your intentions were good all along, we forgive you :)" type StarClan we see in canon.

It was fine in their eyes to cast doubt on if Onewhisker had lied, but StarClan saw the truth, and Onewhisker did everything in his power to lead his Clan fairly, even trying to negotiate with Mudclaw. He refused, and yet, accepted that they would know the truth when they were able to contact StarClan again. For Mudclaw's uncooperative behavior, StarClan was just annoyed. Not furious. Not damnation-ready.

But then, Mudclaw worked with insurgents in RiverClan and ShadowClan, promising to support them in kind if they helped him become leader. He plotted with them, implying the proud and great StarClan could be fooled by such a stupid and simple trick, and then he tried to kill Onewhisker. The rightful leader of WindClan.

Several cats die in this skirmish, more than canon. He weakened WindClan at a time when it was more important than ever that it have unity. He insulted StarClan itself by taking matters into his own paws and breaking the code. StarClan was furious, and for this, refuses to let him live, dropping the tree on him to prove that he is NOT the chosen leader of WindClan.

StarClan does not care that Mudclaw tries to plead that he thought Onewhisker was lying; he is blamed for the death of every cat who died that night, and sent to the Dark Forest.

Darkstar

After the deaths of Birchface, Flowerpaw, Mapleshade's kits (appearing as the adults they were supposed to become; Patchpool, Larchface, and Petalstar), Ravenwing, Frecklewish, Appledusk, and finally Mapleshade herself, StarClan is VERY ANGRY.

They try to summon Oakstar and Darkstar to the moonstone right away, but Darkstar leaves god's texts on read so they zap her.

StarClan damns everyone even tangentially related to the incident to the Dark Forest out of blind fury, even sending the lives that Darkstar and Oakstar have lost so far to walk there as punishment. They're given a clear commandment; Protect kittens and never let this happen ever again.

Oakstar does not listen and eventually starts the Crusades that create BloodClan. Darkstar aces the assignment with flying colors and creates the Queen's Rights.

Oakstar goes to the Dark Forest for failing this so hard. Darkstar gets to go to heaven and also a lollipop.

#Bonefall Rewrite #Darkstar's Commandment #Darkstar #Oakstar #Mudclaw #Onewhisker #Ripplestar #Dark Forest

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gatitties · 3 years ago

Text

Death

─ Dbd x gn!teen!reader

─ Summary: you show that death is not an option to leave this world

─ Warnings: none

3 < 4 > 5

You gasped again in the middle of a chase, you started to question your fitness the less you lasted running or looping because what the fuck is up with Michael? He doesn't even run and he's catching up to you in just two seconds obviously you're not as tall as him, but this seemed like a bad joke.

You started to slow down approaching an 'L' shaped structure you looked over your shoulder to see the red light right behind you, then sprung into action. You put your hand in the form of a fist taking it to your heart, pretending that it was getting harder and harder for you to breathe, leaving Michael out of place, he just stayed with the knife suspended in the air staring at you.

Were you dying? Did you have asthma? He was so confused because something like this never happened, should he leave you for a while to recover and go after you again? Or stab you directly? Since he was not very clear about it, he chose to stalk you and charge his power to level two. He would still get blood points for keeping up the 'chase' as well.

"Call an ambulance, call an ambulance...!" You gasped, pounding your chest like you couldn't breathe properly, Michael looked at you like you were stupid, an ambulance? really? Here? "but not for me!"

You intended to use a flashlight to blind him by surprise, but the surprise was yours when the supposed flashlight that you had in your hand was not there, however instead of that, you threw a box of heavy tools right at the killer's face. It made a dull noise against his forehead, but it didn't even hurt him, he just stared at you silently with disapproval and annoyance.

You're done, you're so done. You sentenced everyone to die because you made him reach level three obsession, but hey, for you it would still be a gg wp. At least you had won Ace's bet, he bet some blood points that you wouldn't be able to stun Michael, because let's face it, normally you just did a little bit of loop then full w, you barely dropped pallets or you did it wrong, you started to think that it would be easier to throw tool boxes to stun.

You returned the blood points earned to him in exchange for him accompanying you to the forest, why did you want to go to the forest if there is only fog and pine trees, maybe a lake? Simply because you wanted to, did you need any excuse? You only used Ace so they wouldn't tell you that you couldn't go alone, and he couldn't say no anymore even if he didn't want to go.

"The first bet I lose here is with a kid."

"I'm not a kid!"

Ace looked at you from behind his glasses, having his typical stupid crooked smile.

"In my eyes and compared to my age you are."

You clucked and rolled your eyes, walked a few steps ahead of him, occasionally fiddling with the first aid kit Claudette had forced you to carry, as well as the ax them occasionally used to chop down wood, this one your companion had, at Just like you, he just fiddled with it trying to distract himself from the silence.

The silence and tension seemed to be getting to the man as he seemed to want to break it somehow, well he wasn't that charismatic when he didn't know if the creatures in the forest could kill him once and for all. Which you couldn't have cared less about, you weren't going to die, well, you couldn't die, you were clear about it, those monsters wouldn't be the ones that would end your life.

"Ahg this is boring, hey kid, why don't you tell me something about your past life? You never said anything about yourself when you got here, you just threw a tantrum until you had the damn cell phone."

"I also know almost nothing about you or your previous life."

"What do you want to know about my former self?"

"Really nothing, don't get me wrong, I don't think it makes sense or is important to know how you were before in the situation we are in, the important thing is how you are here and now."

"That may be the smartest thing you've said in all the time you've been here" You looked at him with a frown feeling completely attacked "I share the thought but I don't give a shit, I need to talk about something or I'll die of boredom, kiddo."

"I have nothing to tell you, I don't even have such a good memory, nor life experience, I'm fifteen, my old life only consisted of studying and sleeping, there's nothing more I can tell you."

"Hobbies?"

"Nothing in particular that might surprise you..."

"Pets?"

"They never let me have one..."

"Hell, have you done anything important in your life?"

"No, I already told you."

You fell back into silence for a few minutes, just as Ace seemed to want his round of questions you heard a low growl followed by the rustling of leaves in front of you, you didn't even have time to react as the man was already grabbing your arm to pull you behind him as he told you to cover your mouth. You slowly hid behind a fairly large rock, watching as a hound with sharp fangs and abnormally thin limbs sniffed around.

You almost got rid of it when it was about to leave but you had to take a step back and make a branch break in half, you shared a look with Ace and heard a much more ferocious growl, without looking at the creature you went to run. While you were laughing because of the adrenaline of the moment Ace was panicking because of the monster's proximity, he wasn't going to be able to dodge it, he wasn't going to be able to protect you, were you going to die from this thing?

No of course not, you got tired of running too fast so you slowed down until you were standing in front of the hellhound with a smile, Ace freaked out even more when he didn't see you next to him, turning his head and almost peeing on his pants when seeing how the beast pounced on your body.

"Don't waste my life and run away, did you hear me old man?!"

"Oh shit- come back here, you don't have to do that you don't know if you're going to-!"

Ace looked away, his breathing became erratic as he watched as you were stabbed and dismembered, he stifled all of his guilt and went for a run not wanting to miss this chance you had given him.

You could only say that it was less painful than you expected, you laughed inside yourself, you had only wanted to dramatize the scene as if you were in a movie, but you knew you were going to come back. And you checked it when your body began to turn into thick black fog, you arrived at the camp in one piece to see how almost everyone paranoid their surroundings.

Until you exchanged glances with a distraught Ace, who had arrived a while ago leaving everyone worried for your life. He stopped what he was doing to strangle you in a hug, you laughed silently.

"I already said that I wasn't going to die, you'all are dramas."

"I don't care, don't do that again for God's sake!"

"Someone had to prove it, at least you know that you can't die from the creatures of the fog either."

"I prefer that you throw me slices of cheese every day to wake me up before you use yourself as a guinea pig for these things."

"Slices of cheese as an alarm clock huh...?"

"It was just an exaggeration-!"

#dbd x reader #dbd #survivorsxreader #killersxreader #xreader #gn #gn reader #teen reader #platonic #platonic reader #ace #ace visconti #reader insert

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folklorelise · 4 years ago

Text

Squad Leader Mom gets badly injured.

After Kuchel’s birth, Levi and you had an agreement. There would be no expedition until Kuchel had her first birthday. You did not want to leave your new-born either yet. For an entire year, you would move between your parents’ house and the survey corps headquarters. It was tiring, but you quickly got used to this lifestyle.

Kuchel’s first birthday was spent at the survey corps headquarters with your parents and your brother there as well. (it will probably be in another story) When the day of your comeback arrived, your parents came to take care of Kuchel.

“Be careful out there.” your mother told you.

“I will, don’t worry about me!”

Everyone was getting ready, putting on their gear, preparing their horse. You were so excited about this that you were one of the first ones to be ready to leave. Your squad quickly joined you.

“Squad leader Y/N! It’s really great to see you again.”

“It’s good to be back.”

The night before, Levi told you that since it had been a while since you were outside, you would have to stay close to him and his squad.

“I already talked about it with Erwin.” Levi told you after Kuchel fell asleep.

“Levi I–.”

“I just don’t want–.” Levi paused. “I want to be able to protect you if it’s needed. Which I hope it won’t happen.”

“It won’t.”

When the gate opened, and your horse started to gallop, your heart started to race. It had been a year since you went outside the walls. Thankfully, a week before the expedition, Levi made you get used to riding a horse and using your gear which made you more comfortable. However, your mind kept thinking about Kuchel – you were starting to get worried. Fortunately, the situation outside was not a getting too problematic. There were only a few titans. The night came rather quickly since it was winter, so everyone had to set up their tents.

“Mom, Armin and I are going to bring some wood.” Jean screamed before leaving.

“How are you?” Levi asked you once you were both in your tent.

“Mmh… not so great.” you tried to laugh, “I thought it would be easier.”

“I know. Leaving Kuchel the first time was terrible.” Levi admitted to you. “You just have to think about the moment you’re going to get back and hold her again.”

“I like that thought.” you put your head on his shoulder.

“Are you going to stay at home after that?”

“I like my job; I just have to get used to this.”

The rest of the cadets were sitting in circle outside, waiting for Jean and Armin to get back, but after thirty minutes of waiting, they were still not back. Then very soon, Levi and you joined the cadets.

“What if they’re lost?” you asked.

“Maybe we should go and look for them?” Sasha suggested.

“I’ll go.” Mikasa stood up.

“No, sit down.” you said which she did. “I’ll go.”

“I’ll come with you.” Levi said.

“Should we tell Erwin first?” Sasha asked.

“You go and tell Erwin that Levi and I went looking for them and that there is no need for any of you to come after us. If Jean and Armin come back, you just wait for us.” you told them putting on your ODM gear.

“Be careful!” Connie shouted when Levi and you walked away into the thick forest.

As Levi and you took Jean and Armin’s path, you quickly grabbed his hand.

“We should split up. We will find them more quickly.” you said.

“No. I’m not leaving you alone there.”

“Levi it’s fine. I promise.”

“Y/N…” Levi sighed.

“Pinkie promise then?” Levi started at you, but still shook your pinkie with his.

Levi then went to the opposite side of yours. You were screaming their names, but there was no answer. You quickly went on a high tree so you would see better thanks to the full moon. After a few minutes of intense research, you finally found two silhouettes standing on a lower tree. You rested a minute without moving so you could catch your breath. But when you saw a titan rising up from the bottom of their tree, you immediately flew toward them.

Armin and Jean were slightly injured, and they did not have their gear on — they climb the tree when some titans started to show up. As the night came, titans started to disappear, but they were lost so they stayed on their tree. The titan beneath Jean and Armin started to shake the tree, trying to make them fell down – it was an abnormal one. It moved quickly.

When you saw the titan raising its arm toward Armin, you did not think twice and instantly flew where he was and pushed him out of the way – the titan grabbed you instead of Armin.

“MOM!” Armin yelled horrified.

The titan threw you away. Your body was thrown away against a tree, yet you were still awake when your body met the ground. The abnormal titan stared at where your body was, and it suddenly started to run toward you. You could only watch it run to you without moving, so you closed your eyes, ready to go. But nothing happened.

After Levi and you went separate ways, he searched the surroundings swiftly and then went back where you went earlier. When he saw from afar a body being thrown away, he used a lot of his gas to get to there as quickly as possible and killed the titan. Levi looked up on the tree and when he only saw Jean and Armin trying to get down, he knew whose body was lying not too far from he was. Levi dropped his swords and run to you.

You were really glad to see Levi. When he kneeled down, you could see that he was trying to hold back his tears.

“Y/N, hey.” Levi sobbed, putting his hands around your face, “It’s ok, I’m here.”

You wanted to tell him that it was ok too, but the only sound that you could make was coughing.

“Don’t try to talk.” Levi warned you.

“Mom? Mom!” Jean was the first on to arrive.

“I’m so sorry mom.” Armin cried when he saw you.

“Jean, help me get Y/N’s gear off and you’ll take it to get back and get help.” Levi ordered.

“Mom,” Jean kneeled down before leaving, “please don’t leave. I’ll be back really quickly ok?”

When he saw you nodding slightly, he flew off where you and Levi came from. Levi put his cloak around your head which was bleeding. He had put your head on his knees so you would be more comfortable. Armin was holding your hand, still crying. You squeezed his hand as hard as you can before you felt like passing out.

“Mom?” Armin called you when he felt your falling out of his. “Mom! Wake up!”

——————————

When Jean arrived at the spot, he run to where the commander was.

“Commander Erwin! You– you have to follow me!” Jean sobbed.

“Kirstein, Sasha already told–.”

“NO!” Jean yelled.

“Jean! Calm down.” Hange stood up. “Why–.”

“Mom. It’s mom, and she’s…” Jean mumbled.

“What happened to mom?” Eren asked with the rest of the cadets around him.

“She’s hurt… there was a titan and– and he just– he grabbed mom…” Jean explained still crying.

Erwin and Hange put on their gear right away, as well as your squad and the cadets. Jean showed them the way, and when they arrived Hange was the first one to be next to you. They quickly took out the emergency kit and cleaned your wound and sutured it.

“She’s still breathing which is good.” Hange declared out loud. “But we have to bring her back now.” Hange turned their head to face Levi. “You did a great job – putting pressure on her head so she would not bleed out – it was great.”

With the help of Erwin, they all gently put your body on the trolley.

“Are we all going to go back?” Mikasa asked.

“None of you will be able to continue in these conditions.” Erwin stated. “Neither can I so yes, we’re all going back with Y/N.”

On the way home, Levi constantly had his hand on your chest to make sure your heart was beating. The minute the trolley went inside the gates, the medical squad took you in charge.

Levi, Hange, Erwin and the kids were all waiting at the mess hall together. The doctor’s first news was that you had a violent concussion, as well as a few broken ribs. Your left leg was in bad shape — they were still operating.

Your parents were immediately informed about the situation and came with Kuchel as soon as possible. When they arrived, Levi took Kuchel in his arms and hugged her tightly. When Kuchel saw the cadets crying, she started to cry too.

“Ma-ma?” Kuchel cried.

——————————

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself in a house you did not recognise.

“Is there anyone here?” you asked. When you opened the door, it brought you on a vast field full of colourful flowers. You could not find anyone, but after walking around for a bit, you finally found someone sitting on the grass.

You quietly walked toward the person and sat down.

“I have been waiting for you.” the woman told you.

“Do I know you?” you asked.

“We’ve never met.”

“You look familiar though.”

“Do you know why you are here?”

“Mh… I think…”

“You had an accident remember?” the woman tried to help you remember.

“Right. The titan. Wait, am I dead?” you panicked. “I can’t be! I’m not dead right?” you turned to face her, but she only stared at you. “I can’t be!” you repeated yelling.

“Why?”

“I can’t– Levi is probably worried sick now! I can’t leave him. I can’t.” you started to cry. “And then there’s Kuchel and the kids. What am I supposed to do now?”

The woman suddenly stood up and took you in her arms, trying to calm you down.

“I don’t have an answer for you, I’m sorry.” she told you. “Let’s go back to the house, ok?”

Once you were in your bed, you closed your eye for what it seemed like a second, but when you opened your eyes again, it was already morning. The longer you stayed here, the more suspicious you got. That woman who helped you was acting weird around you – always dodging your questions. Instead, she would ask a lot of questions about Levi and Kuchel, without any reasons, but you were glad to talk about it.

As time passed, you felt weaker and weaker. You could not run anymore; you could barely wake up in the morning.

“Am I dying again?” you asked her.

“No, quite the opposite actually.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your body is getting healthier, so you’re going to go back soon.”

“Where?”

“To Levi.”

“So, I’m leaving you?” you asked to be sure.

“Yes.” she smiled.

“Does that mean you’re finally going to tell me who you are? And why you have been obsessed with Levi and–.” you then stopped and realised, “You’re– you’re Levi’s mother, right?” you guessed, “I thought you looked familiar on the first day because you look exactly like Levi.”

“I am.” Kuchel smiled at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“You had to rest.”

“But this is all probably just happening in my head.” you said. “Right?” but she did not answer.

“It might be.” she nodded, “I want you to know one thing before you go. I want to thank you for everything you did for my son. Levi was everything to me,” tears appeared in her eyes, “and now that I know he has someone like you, to love him, I can rest in peace.”

You did not know what to answer so you just went and wrapped her around your arms.

“Thank you for taking care of my Levi.” Kuchel thanked you again, “and for naming your child after me. You are just too pure for this world.” she backed away, “There’s someone else who would like to see you if it’s ok with you.”

“Oh. Mh… sure.” You agreed seeing another woman walking toward you.

“This is Eren’s mother.” Kuchel whispered before leaving you alone with her.

“Y/N, it’s really nice to meet you.” Carla greeted you smiling.

“Hi.” you answered timidly. “It’s–.”

“Thank you. I was really worried Eren would have to grew up lonely, without a motherly presence around him, but seeing you with him makes me feel better. I know you have your own child now, but–.”

“I love Eren.” you reassured her. “I love all of them as if they were my own. You don’t have to be worried anymore.”

Then, you suddenly felt your strength leaving you body and collapse on the floor.

——————————

Levi never left you. He would occasionally leave to shower, eat, feed Kuchel and put her to sleep, but as soon as it was over, he would rush back to you.

“Levi you should sleep a little bit.” Erwin said during one of his visits.

“Every time I close my eyes, I see her lying on the ground, with her blood everywhere. Except in my dreams, she is not alive. I can’t sleep like that. I– I can’t sleep without her.” Levi explained.

“I’m sure she’s going to wake up soon.” Erwin tried to comfort Levi.

The cadets were lifeless too. None of them wanted to get up in the morning, a lot of them could not sleep at night either.

“I can’t lose another mom.” Eren told Mikasa one night.

“You won’t. We won’t.”

Armin stayed at the library very often. It was the place where you first talked to each other – where you two bonded together. Jean would just overwork himself, trying not to think about you. Which was not successful – he would secretly visit you every time Levi went to put Kuchel to bed.

“Please wake up soon, because I miss you a lot.” Jean would tell you every night.

Connie would help Sasha taking care of Kuchel when Levi could not. Hange and Erwin stayed with Levi most of the time. Your parents and your brother visited when they could, helping as much as they could, but everyone just wanted you to wake up.

Mikasa tried to be strong for her friends – she would be comforting them if they cried or if they needed to talk. But she did not talk to anyone. Two weeks after the accident, during dinner, Mikasa broke down crying without any reason.

“Mikasa! Are you ok?” Sasha quickly took her outside, with the rest of her friends following them.

No one knew what to do. So, they just all sat around her, waiting for Mikasa to calm down on her own.

“Don’t follow me.” Mikasa said when she stood up.

She rapidly walked to your room and sat next to you.

“I miss you, mom.” Mikasa sobbed quietly. “I really miss you a lot.”

Mikasa stopped her crying when she saw Levi with Kuchel entering the room.

“It’s ok.” Levi said. “You can cry.”

“I’m fine.” Mikasa responded.

“Do you want me to leave you alone for another minute?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Most nights, Levi would just rest his head on your bed, and hold your hand and then talk to you.

“Kuchel comes sometimes to see you because she misses you. I do too. A lot.”

“This week I slept for five hours in total, which is better than last week.”

“Please wake up. I miss your voice, and I feel like I’m going to get crazy talking alone.”

“Please, don’t leave me alone.”

——————————

You spent three weeks without waking up. When you first opened your eyes, it was night. And it was one of those rare nights where Levi would be asleep. You could see how tired Levi was with the dark bags under his eyes. You really wanted to let him sleep but you were also really thirsty.

“Levi.” you grunted which just made him turn his head around. Then you tried to shake him a little, but you did not have any strength in you. Then you suddenly started to cough loudly which immediately woke up Levi.

“Y/N?” Levi asked astonished. “Am I dreaming again?”

“No. Please,” you continued to talk with a low voice, “I want water.”

“Ok. I’ll be right back, just don’t go back to sleep ok.”

“Ok.”

Levi came out of his room and took a deep breath before going to take a glass of water. After drinking water and eating the food you parents recently brought, you felt so much better.

“Do you want some?” you asked Levi.

“I’m ok.”

“You should sleep more, you look tired.” You told him once you were done eating.

“Are you sure you’re fine? I can go and wake up the doctor.” Levi asked you again ignoring your statement.

“Levi, I’m fine. You on the other side–.” but you stopped when you saw Levi started to cry again.

Levi quickly lay down next to you, hiding his face in your chest.

“Let’s sleep and talk in the morning ok?” you said.

In the morning, Levi was the first one to wake up. He thought that he dreamt about last night, but you quickly woke up after he did. Levi helped you take a real shower, and changed you before letting you lay down on your own bed. It was more comfortable than the one in the medical spot.

When Levi went to lay next to you, his bedroom door flew open with Jean out of breath.

“Mom she disappe–.” but stopped instantly after seeing you. “Mom?”

“Jean!” you opened your arms so he could hug you.

“You’re here! You’re– you’re really here, awake, alive!” Jean shouted happily. “I have to go and tell the others!”

“Where’s Kuchel?” you suddenly asked Levi.

“She’s still sleeping, she never wakes up early.”

Your conversation was cut short when all the cadets barged in. There was a lot of crying. Very soon after, Hange and Erwin also came in.

“I’m so glad to see you again.” Hange hugged you.

“It’s good to you too. Erwin come give me a hug too!”

After a morning of catching up with everyone, you and Levi went to see Kuchel. She was already up when you entered the room.

“Hello.” you picked Kuchel up.

“Ma-ma!” Kuchel laughed.

“Oh, I missed you so much.” you hold her tightly.

After seeing Kuchel, you had to leave and meet your doctor to check on you. But Levi decided to bring Kuchel with you because as she saw you leaving, she started to cry.

“She definitely won’t be leaving you any time soon.”

The doctor advised you to continue to rest for another month before going back to any kind of activities. For dinner, the kids insisted on eating with you which you agreed to obviously.

“You should eat more.” Mikasa told you, giving you half of her meal.

“Here, you should take my bread too.” Connie said.

After a lively dinner, the kids spent the evening playing with Kuchel while Levi and you just sat there and watched them.

“Aren’t you tired?” Levi asked you.

“No. Stop worrying about me. I would tell you if I was tired.” you said taking his hand.

“Mom, can we sleep over tonight please?” Eren asked.

“No.” Levi answered.

“Of course you can, just bring your sleeping bags and join us in our bedroom.” You quickly added.

“Why?” Levi complained.

“I can’t say no to them.”

“I can.”

“Just this once, I’m sure it’ll be great.”

At night, everyone fell asleep rather quickly except for you. You tried to close your eyes and sleep, but you could not.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Levi whispered.

“Sorry, I can sleep elsewhere if–.”

“No, if you’re not there I won’t sleep. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you want to go and take a walk outside?”

“You should sleep instead of doing this.”

“I won’t be able to sleep now that I know you can’t.”

Levi put on his long coat and you did the same before leaving quietly the room. You both sat down outside on the grass.

“I–.” you started, “I almost died.” you said out loud laughing dryly.

“Y/N, if you want to cry, it’s ok. I’ll be here.”

“N– no.” but then immediately started to cry uncontrollably.

Levi immediately took you in his arms and let you cry for as long as you needed. You calmed down after fifteen minutes of crying but stayed in Levi’s arms.

“Are you feeling better now?” Levi asked you.

“I don’t know…”

“It’s ok too. Do you want to go back and try to sleep?”

“Yes.”

Levi took your hand and you both walked back to your bedroom. Once you were both comfortably set in bed you put your head on his chest.

“I love you Levi Ackerman.” you said looking at him blush slightly.

“I… love you… too.” Levi responded trying to avoid your gaze.

“Ew my parents are being disgustingly in love.” Jean commented looking away.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Levi asked him.

“I was thirsty but I’m not anymore.”

“Goodnight Jean.” you told him before closing your eyes.

“Goodnight mom.”

After that incident, the kids started to be more and more protective of you outside the walls, by always being behind you. Levi would never be too far away as well. Eren was always ready to transform into a titan to protect you. But nothing too bad happened after this.

—————————

I have a tiny part 2 where Levi gets nightmares about that incident, but never talks about it sigh Y/N. Reader eventually found out and Levi finally talks about it. It would probably be short though.

Have a nice day!! And remember, you are incredible!

MASTERLIST

#attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman angst #levi x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman #squad leader mom au #eren yaegar #jean kirstein #armin arlet #mikasa ackerman #erwin smith x reader #hange zoe #hope you liked it #and yes there will be more of squad leader mom :)

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