#yellowpaw

[jayadwal]

broke her life

[fallenclan]

FINALLY A CAT WITH THE POINTED WHITE PATCHES LETS GOOOOOO

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[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 75

Yellowpaw, Sandpaw, and Stormpaw are apprenticed to Asterblaze, Spikecrash, and Clammask.

[Image ID: Yellowpaw, Sandpaw, and Stormpaw are apprentices. Sandpaw says, "Do you think Thunderpaw is impressed?" Under Yellowpaw, it says LEVEL UP! YELLOWKIT → YELLOWPAW, NOISY → COLD. Under Sandpaw, it says LEVEL UP! SANDKIT → SANDPAW, SELF-CONSCIOUS → LOYAL. Under Stormpaw, it says LEVEL UP! STORMKIT → STORMPAW, KNOW-IT-ALL → CHARISMATIC.]

(Yellowpaw: 6, female, caretaker apprentice, cold, quick to make peace)

(Sandpaw: 6, male, mediator apprentice, loyal, interested in Clan history)

(Stormpaw: 6, female, caretaker apprentice, charismatic, loves to eat)

Honeybuzz helps the three star-blessed apprentices.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz, Weevilpaw, Wolfpaw, and Anchovypaw watch Estherfern talk with a Dark Forest spirit. Under Honeybuzz, it says + NEW SKILL: GOOD TEACHER.]

---

Honeybuzz cupped his paw around one of the many plucked mushrooms that formed the unholy circle. He sniffed at the herbal mixture that sealed the pickings together. A few strands of black and red fur clung to the wet earth that lined the edges of the muddy den. The constant rain of the last four days made the ground slick and sent water dripping from the root-lined ceiling. Anchovypaw, Wolfpaw, and Weevilpaw stood outside the den, heads close together as they peered inside. The rain glued their pelts to their skin.

“And you’ve known about this for how long, Anchovypaw?” Honeybuzz asked. He absently batted at his wooden necklace, the freshly plucked cicada wing glistening with raindrops. He pointedly sat outside of the circle, mud sinking into his thin fur.

“Only a few days,” Anchovypaw admitted. “I didn’t want to say anything until I could come back here, but there’s even more ichor here than there was when I first found the den.”

“You should have told us sooner,” Weevilpaw huffed with a glare so sharp that, had she had her sister’s ability, Anchovypaw would have frozen stiff.

“I wasn’t going to scare anyone if I didn’t have to!” Anchovypaw huffed. A sharp flick of his tail sent a stream of water flying over Weevilpaw and Wolfpaw’s backs. “It could have just been where the beast that killed Weedfoot went to die. I only waited a few days! It took me that long to get away from Halibutdusk!”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Honeybuzz promised. He squeezed around the apprentices, squinting as the rain splashed his eyes.

“Now we know someone else has been here,” Wolfpaw pointed out. 

“What is it, Honeybuzz?” Weevilpaw asked. She moved further into the den, eyes locked on the circle.

“You remember my lessons on channeling StarClan?” Honeybuzz said, shivering. “It exhausts power StarClan wasn’t planning to use, but the immediate and physical communication can justify an absence of subtle signs and assistance.”

“But we don’t use mushrooms,” Weevilpaw said. She poked at a mushroom, making it roll out of its spot. “We form a circle of cats, not plants.”

“But do you remember when you met Terracottafoot?” Honeybuzz sighed. “I asked them to tell you about last Harvest Moon, and some of their knowledge of the Dark Forest. Newtstream, their mentor, taught them about channeling Dark Forest spirits using a circle of mushrooms.”

“Someone’s summoning Spirits of Shadow,” Wolfpaw gulped.

“Who would be that mouse-brained?” Anchovypaw growled. His claws left gouges in the mud. “We all remember the Shardling. Who would want to bring something like that back?” Anchovypaw looked like he was going to be sick. Wolfpaw rubbed against Anchovypaw’s side. “You were right, Weevilpaw. I should have destroyed this den as soon as I found it.”

“Then they would have made another one,” Honeybuzz pointed out. “No, we need to find a trusted warrior to watch this den. They can wait until the culprit visits again. Waspdawn or Puddlewhisper would do well. I trust them.” Weevilpaw’s soaked fur prickled. Her eyes widened, locked on something Honeybuzz couldn’t see. Her mouth dropped slightly, breath catching. 

“Out, out!” Weevilpaw hissed, lunging past Wolfpaw. She scrambled into a thick bush, still bursting with summer life. Wolfpaw and Anchovypaw were instantly at her side, following her into the shadows. Honeybuzz stumbled in after them, sharp branches poking his ribs.

“Who did you see?” Anchovypaw whispered just as the shrubbery on the other side of the dark den shifted. Bicolored eyes glimmered through the mid-morning haze.

“Estherfern?” Honeybuzz gasped as the older cleric stepped into full view. Estherfern carried a ball of fur in her jaws, the same red and black colors Honeybuzz found in the strange den. Her fur on her cheeks drooped like heavy leaves. She strolled into the shadows, ignorant to her spies.

“The Shardling almost killed her kits,” Anchovypaw growled, his rage making the leaves shake. “Why would she deal with the Dark Forest?”

“Keep listening,” Wolfpaw whispered. “We might find out.” Estherfern placed the furballs in the center of the circle. Her cool gaze settled on Weevilpaw’s disturbed mushroom. Honeybuzz grit his teeth. Estherfern carefully nudged the mushroom back into its original position. She sat in the den’s entrance, back to Honeybuzz and the apprentices.

Estherfern declared, “I call upon the spirit of Hawthornstealer, banished from StarClan for murder in the name of his kits. Despite your sins, your assistance is required. Return to the Clans, if only for a moment. Speak to us.”

“Do you see that?” Anchovypaw whispered, pressing into Weevilpaw. “Do you see that?” Honeybuzz squinted. The circle was still. Suddenly, Weevilpaw gasped. She bit into her paw to muffle her shock. Honeybuzz braced his heart for whatever the star-blessed apprentices saw.

It began as a shift in the mud, like water in a pot at the first stages of boiling. The ground around the fur offering darkened. Black sludge bubbled out of the mud and lapped up the fur balls like medicine. The sound of its formation reminded Honeybuzz of paws trapped in thick gunk, pulling out of the mess with a sucking slurp. It leaked from under the mushrooms and collected in the circle’s center. The ichor pulled itself upward like drops of water falling from the ceiling, perverting the pull of the earth. A subtle red glow illuminated the den.

“It’s finally working,” Estherfern gasped as the ichor took shape. It lifted itself high like a cat arching their back. It clung to the ground at four points that slowly took on the details of paws. A claw-like tail sprouted from its back. The ichor bubbled and bulged into a muzzle. Two glowing red eyes erupted from the spirit’s face. StarClan help them all.

“So you are Estherfern,” the spirit said. Its voice was as sticky as the mud from which it was born, dissolving into the sound of the tumbling rain.

“Hawthornstealer?” Estherfern asked. The spirit blinked slowly, its eyelids like a mudslide. 

“Why do you call?” the spirit groaned.

“Oilstripe and Lavendertwist told me your story,” Estherfern explained. She inched closer, back still stuck in the rain. “You killed an elder to ensure more food for your kits in a famine. You would have done anything for them. StarClan doesn’t seem to have the power I need. I’m hoping you can help.”

“Explain.”

“My kits are sick, and RippleClan can do nothing to help them. One of my daughters is going deaf, the other is half-blind. And now my only son has issues of the head, issues the mediators are simply bandaging, not fixing.” Was she talking about Brightpaw? Spikecrash had asked Honeybuzz and Troutpool about any relaxing herbs the young tom could take before the Gathering, something to ease the panic that overtook him when too many cats surrounded him. It was manageable. There was no need to resort to such extremes.

“You are searching for a cure.”

“I can’t let them struggle like this. How can I fix them?” The spirit stared at Estherfern silently, the rainfall burning into the background of Honeybuzz’s mind. The only sign of un-life in the spirit rested in its long, slow blinking. Even Estherfern, collected as she was, twitched under the spirit’s unending, blank stare.

“I…,” Anchovypaw whispered, “I don’t think that’s the ghost of Hawthornstealer.”

“Why not?” Wolfpaw whimpered.

“It’s too empty,” Anchovypaw groaned, struggling to find the right word. “Weedfoot’s stories said Dark Forest ghosts looked like themselves. Even the Shardling looked a little like Autumnstar, isn’t that what Downstar told us? This thing doesn’t look like anyone. It looks like a shadow."

“We may have the power,” the spirit finally coughed through its thick ichor. “We need help.”

“That’s what I expected,” Estherfern sighed. “What sort of ritual do I need to perform? Is there another spirit I should talk to?”

“Your children were destined to develop these afflictions,” the spirit gurgled. “Their destinies must be replaced. Replaced with another’s.”

“Elaborate.” 

“The eyes of the clear sighted.” The spirit’s red eyes shone like a flickering fire. “The ears of the cautious listener.” Its pointed ears flicked, their first movement since the spirit’s arrival. “The tongue of the charmed.” Its black teeth peered out from muddy lips. “Three sacrifices. Three kits.” Estherfern stilled. Honeybuzz’s heart sank. Despite her standoffishness, despite her argumentativeness, Estherfern was part of the Clan, her kits were part of the Clan. How could she throw that away to fix what didn’t, what couldn’t be fixed?

“We’ll stop her before she begins,” Anchovypaw growled, inching a paw out of hiding. StarClan asked for Estherfern. Why would they send for her if she could be swayed like this?

“Offer the dead—”

“No.” All four hidden cats perked their ears high. Estherfern stood, tail rippling slowly as she stared the spirit down. The spirit, to Honeybuzz’s continued shock, flinched.

“No?” the spirit spat.

“What do you take me for?” Estherfern scoffed. “You think I’m so blindly devoted to a cure that you can turn me into a murderer? A sadist for the sake of my children?”

“You want them cured,” the spirit growled. Its paw lingered at the edge of the circle. “This is how you cure them.”

“And what happens when I do?” Estherfern asked, tilting one ear in a shocking taunt. “I know how your land works, the rules of your afterlife. They will go to StarClan some day and learn what I did for them, if they do not find out in life. They will despise me for what I have done.”

“But they will be cured.”

“Furthermore, I know the creatures that inhabit your Dark Forest.” Estherfern walked around the circle like a hunter. The spirit never turned its head, face stuck in a sneer. “It is the home of murderers and scoundrels. I would surely arrive there after my own death were I to kill three innocents for you. You would condemn me to eternity without my children.”

“You’ve already been damned, Estherfern. You brought forth the Skin N’ Bones that slew your deputy. You are the cause of your Clan’s suffering. Do you believe StarClan will forgive you for that?” A Skin N’ Bones. Of course. Nothing else would have injured Downstar like that. Nothing else would have devoured Weedfoot alive. Estherfern stopped. The calculated and callous look that always hung in her eyes cracked. Honeybuzz could almost see Estherfern’s soul drop. “Why give up now? You’re too far gone. Your children are not. Why summon us if you were not willing to do whatever it took to fix your kits?”

“I will not have them hate me!” Estherfern rounded on the spirit, lips curled tight. “I will not have them curse my name!” She shook her head low. “I will find a different cure for them. I will find another way. I send you back, spirit, back to your dark wanderings, where StarClan’s light does not reach.” Estherfern reached for one of the mushrooms. Her paw breached the circle.

“No!” The spirit dug its fangs into Estherfern’s paw. Ichor dripped into her fresh wound. She pulled back, ripping more of her skin in the process. 

“I respect what you did for your kits, Hawthornstealer,” Estherfern hissed, licking her paw. “I realize now, however, that where you could put aside your kits’ emotions for their futures, I cannot.”

“We,” the spirit growled, voice dissolving, “are not Hawthornstealer.” 

The spirit’s legs melted like snow. Its form dissolved and splashed about in a massive sticky pool. One by one, the mushrooms rolled into the ichor and vanished under the writhing mass as though falling into a great black hole. The ichor bubbled and squirmed as though in a death rattle. It leaked from the confines of the circle and coated the den floor. Estherfern backed up, back paws slipping on the soaked grass.

Weevilpaw raced out of the bush before Honeybuzz could react. She threw her full weight into Estherfern’s side. The two clerics tumbled into the shrubs. In that moment, the ichor exploded. It sprayed the walls of the dirt den and shot into the rain in an endless cascade. More ichor escaped the den than could have possibly made up the spirit in the circle. As it flew into the forest, large clumps tumbled to the side like wayward drops from a massive wave. The glops tumbled and sloshed against the wet ground before launching through the trees and out of sight. More and more of these glops scrambled away until finally, finally, the spray slowed. A long black trail led out of the den, which was now nothing but ichor and goop. 

Honeybuzz, Anchovypaw, and Wolfpaw crept out of hiding as Weevilpaw got off Estherfern. Mud coated half of her brown pelt. The ichor stunk like rotting flesh and mushrooms.

“How long have you been there?” Estherfern asked, slow to her paws.

“Wolfpaw, you might have to freeze me,” Anchovypaw growled, claws out. “I’m a whisker’s length from killing her.”

“Anchovypaw, no!” Weevilpaw stood in front of Estherfern, paws skidding. “She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She was trying to help her kits. We can’t blame her for that!”

“But the Dark Forest…” Wolfpaw gulped. With the puff in her fur dissolved in the rain, she seemed half her size.

“It is full of dead cats, not unlike StarClan,” Estherfern huffed. She stepped around Weevilpaw and faced down the furious crowd. “All I wanted was a way to cure my kits, something you’ve shown you cannot do.”

“Estherfern, you weren’t talking to a dead warrior,” Honeybuzz groaned, almost stepping on the ichor trail. “That was a Herald. Their entire purpose is to trick the living into allowing Spirits of Shadow into the territories.” His gaze lingered on the forest. He could almost hear the half-formed monsters slurping across the grass, taking their true, cursed forms.

“You heard her!” Weevilpaw huffed. “She wasn’t going to listen to the spirit. She was going to destroy the circle.”

“She didn’t commit murder,” Anchovypaw scoffed. “You did well, Estherfern. You did the bare minimum.”

“Is it your fault?” Wolfpaw muttered, voice almost lost in the rain. “Did you get Weedfoot killed?” Estherfern stared into the ichor-soaked den. 

“I didn’t know,” she said softly. 

“She didn’t know, Anchovypaw,” Weevilpaw snapped. “She’s a good cat!”

“She didn’t care about killing anyone, she cared about what her kits would think,” Anchovypaw growled. “How can we trust a cleric who doesn’t care if you live or die?”

“I trust her,” Weevilpaw huffed, pressing into Estherfern. “Even though she’s strange.”

“Weevilpaw,” Honeybuzz sighed, jumping over the ichor, “take Anchovypaw and Wolfpaw and go back to camp. Just go to the medicine den and wait for us.” 

“What are we going to do with her?” Anchovypaw asked.

“Leave that to me,” Honeybuzz said, shaking his head. “Now go. Stick together, and hurry. We’ll follow you soon.” The apprentices hesitated, all glancing at one another. Weevilpaw was the first to break; she joined Wolfpaw and nudged her onward. The sisters ran toward the coast. Anchovypaw followed, his burning eyes digging into Estherfern as he vanished into the foggy trees.

“It seems I underestimated the vigor of the Dark Forest’s supernatural entities,” Estherfern hummed, cleaning the mud off her injured paw.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” Honeybuzz hissed softly.

“Of course I do,” Estherfern snapped, curling her lips. “You love to tell the story of the Rippling Ashes. They ventured into the Dark Forest, they had Newtstream’s advice. What made my own approach so wicked?”

“Because it’s dangerous!” Honeybuzz groaned. “Because channeling Dark Forest souls, even when they want to help, clears a path for Spirits of Shadow, and they don’t care about any of us. They’re born to hunt. This isn’t worth it.”

“If your kits were sick, wouldn’t you do what you could for them?” Estherfern growled with a large thrash of her tail. “You can’t fix them. I thought the Dark Forest could.”

“They don’t need to be fixed!” Honeybuzz yowled, throwing his whole height up to glare down at Estherfern (who, unlike Rapidleaf, would not cower). “They aren’t dying, Estherfern! They can adapt! I’m sorry I can’t cure Thunderkit or stop Brightpaw’s anxiety, but they’ll be fine!” As Honeybuzz yowled, the first crack appeared in the sky, striking through the gray clouds. Thunder echoed far overhead. Estherfern stared at the growing storm.

“What’s out there now, do you think?” Estherfern sighed.

“Dog-cats, forsaken prey, honeybites…” Honeybuzz muttered, spine itching. “There may even be monsters we rarely see, ones we don’t have names for. We don’t want to know everything that’s out there now.”

“This is something we can fix,” Estherfern huffed. She marched around Honeybuzz and stood on the roof of the wicked den. Jaw tight as her bit paw moved, Estherfern dug at the soaked grass. Her pelt was more mud than fur. Chunks of earth tumbled into the den. The sopping ground folded in on itself like a wave. Estherfern rolled away as the roof of the den fell and covered the sticky, stinking ichor. Grass stuck to Estherfern’s underside. Honeybuzz hurried to her, helping her away from the crumbled remains of her sins.

“We can,” Honeybuzz gulped. “We can fix this.”

(Honeybuzz: 23, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Anchovypaw: 10, male, warrior apprentice, playful, curious about StarClan)

(Weevilpaw: 10, female, cleric apprentice, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Wolfpaw: 10, female, codekeeper apprentice, thoughtful, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Estherfern: 109, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

Sandpaw and Spikecrash arrange time for Estherfern to see the kits she worked so hard to “fix”.

[Image ID: Estherfern faces Thunderpaw, Wolverinepaw, and Brightpaw.]

---

Estherfern didn’t belong at such a lively celebration. The sumptuous food, the well-rehearsed performances… Harvest Moon was as grand as RippleClan claimed it to be. Every Clan gathered as the sunrise poked through the trees, preparing their stews and games and performances. But it was a holiday to drive off Spirits of Shadow. What good would it do to have their herald nestled in the safety of the firelight?

“Spirits of Shadow hate charms,” Troutpool explained as she tucked a cat’s wood-carved face into the boughs of a low-hanging pine. “AshClan spends a lot of time carving these trinkets, and all that care under StarClan’s protections makes them especially useful in warding off danger.” All the clerics roamed the edge’s of the great clearing with baskets of charms and other concoctions to protect the five Clans. Estherfern carried RippleClan’s heavy basket as Honeybuzz, Troutpool, and Weevilpaw prepared the defenses to Troutpool’s instruction.

“How many do we have to place?” Weevilpaw asked, shoving a charm as far into a bush as she could reach.

“We’re covering this entire corner,” Troutpool explained. “We don’t want to leave any openings for spirits.” Estherfern nearly broke the charm in her jaws with how tightly she grit her teeth. She quickly passed it to Honeybuzz.

“Estherfern!” Two figures slipped through the massive crowd. Spikecrash and Sandpaw walked side by side, mentor and apprentice in sync. Sandpaw’s gaze wandered throughout the clearing, taking in the sights of all five Clans for the first time.

“You want to speak to me?” Estherfern asked. While her tone made her question sound casual, the brown priestess hid her surprise deep. She didn’t talk to many cats outside of the medicine den. Why would two of the Clan’s mediators want her? Did they know the real reason why Honeybuzz reported a surge of spirits in the Clan? The reason it was too dangerous to leave camp alone? Why all five Clans, not just RippleClan, now had a newfound fear for their lives? Had Honeybuzz not lied for her, Estherfern would have told the truth and accepted the consequences, yet why he kept it secret, Estherfern didn’t know She glanced at Honeybuzz, but the young gold and white cleric focused on his charms.

“I’m hoping we can borrow you,” Spikecrash explained. “Troutpool, do you still need Estherfern’s help?”

“We’re just placing our wards at the moment,” Troutpool explained, reaching into Estherfern’s basket. “We could finish without her if you really need her.” Estherfern carefully slipped the basket off her neck.

“Thank you, Troutpool,” Spikecrash sighed. She flicked her tail for Estherfern to follow. It seemed no one cared if Estherfern actually wanted to speak with Spikecrash, but who was she to refuse? She trailed after Spikecrash and Sandpaw, heading over to the ovens. Clammask and Stormpaw worked with Drumtooth and Thunderpaw, laughing over an unheard joke as they tended the fire under a massive pot of stew.

“I hope this isn’t too much of an invasion of privacy,” Spikecrash began, her scarred flank lifted high in a long stretch. “Honeybuzz and Weevilpaw spoke with me a few days ago and said you were having some difficulties with your kits.” Estherfern narrowed her eyes.

“If we’re going to discuss my kits,” she sighed, “maybe you could tell me why no one told me about Brightpaw’s meetings with you?”

“So you do know about that,” Spikecrash sighed. “Brightpaw is an apprentice now, Estherfern. We aren’t pressured to tell you anything he didn’t want you to know.” 

“If he’s sick, I want to help him,” Estherfern huffed.

“Why do you think he didn’t want you to know?” Sandpaw scoffed. “Look how you acted with Wolverinepaw and Thunderpaw.” Oh if only he knew just what Estherfern had done for them. What the Dark Forest wanted her to do.

“I’ve only ever tried to help them overcome their own limitations,” Estherfern said, her sharp stare ricocheting off Sandpaw and muting his confident words.

“That’s why we wanted to show you a few things,” Spikecrash explained. She waved a paw toward the oven where Thunderpaw and the other RippleClan cats gathered.

“The only goal of tonight is to have a better stew than WheatClan,” Drumtooth explained, shooting a friendly sneer at WheatClan’s oven and their large pot. He licked the surface of the stew and smacked his jaws. “It’s good, but it’s missing something.” Thunderpaw copied her mentor. Her face squirmed, thinking hard. She then made a strange motion with her paws; balancing on her back legs, she brought her paws close to her mouth and wiggled them as they moved away.

“I know this one,” Stormpaw chirped, completely focused on Thunderpaw. “If the wiggles are the sea… seaweed! That’s seaweed!”

“Yes!” Thunderpaw squealed. The two young apprentices cheered and giggled at their success, bunting one another

“AshClan borrowed our basket of seaweed,” Clammask explained, nudging Thunderpaw. “Grab some for us.”

“Grab seaweed,” Thunderpaw laughed. She quickly swiped the air like she was dragging a mouse out of hiding, then made the ‘seaweed’ motion again. Stormpaw mimicked the dragging motion as Thunderpaw hurried to AshClan’s oven.

“Why is Stormpaw learning Clan-sign?” Estherfern asked her mediator companions.

“Because Thunderpaw’s teaching her,” Sandpaw chirped. “Whenever Thunderpaw gets back from her sign lessons with Mummichogleap, she practices with us apprentices. Most of us are learning a few words so Thunderpaw isn’t left out.”

“And you want to learn?” 

“Thunderpaw makes it fun!”

“You can’t expect the whole Clan to learn this second language.”

“No one does.” Spikecrash touched her tail to Estherfern’s shoulder.. “But there are cats who want to make the effort. They can translate for those who don’t know. It puts pressure off Thunderpaw. She can miss what someone said, but she’ll have friends and family who can let her know.” Thunderpaw trotted back to the oven with a few long strips of seaweed. Clammask tore the seaweed into stew-sized chunks, showing the apprentices how to curl their paws just right. Thunderpaw seemed… happy.

“Now if you’ll follow us over here…” Sandpaw purred, strolling around the Leader’s Stone. Estherfern followed, tail a bit higher than before.

Brightpaw, Ravenpaw, and Vervainpaw sat with a gaggle of apprentices from the other Clans. They lounged about, chatting and laughing. Brightpaw nodded along to an apprentice’s story, his flank stretched out like frog legs. Ravenpaw relaxed on top of him, oohing and awing over the tale.

“I don’t know what your birth place thought of disorders of the mind,” Spikecrash whispered, brushing against Estherfern once more, “but like most disabilities, you can learn to live with them. There was a great gathering of warriors and codekeepers here at the new moon, do you remember? Brightpaw managed to befriend these apprentices during the visit. They invited their friends and littermates to chat today, and Brightpaw is happy to spend time with them. His mind is likely lying to him right now, but he knows ways to manage that. He could overcome his anxiety naturally some day, but that’s a minor part of who he is.”

“I know that,” Estherfern huffed. “He loves to play with Rabbitjoy’s paint supplies. He’s sensitive, and loves his sisters with all his heart. I’ve only ever wanted to help those traits shine.”

“That’s not how Brightpaw sees it,” Sandpaw scoffed under his breath. The comment hollowed out Estherfern’s chest. Before she could respond, two brown blurs shot past the Leader’s Stone with a horde of apprentices and young warriors at their tails. Wolverinepaw and Yarrowpaw led the crowd to an open spot within the festivities. They studied their followers like leader and deputy, the sunrise framing their profiles.

“We’ve got until after sunhigh to prepare!” Wolverinepaw cheered. 

“Are we going to let some dusty old bones beat us?” Yarrowpaw cried.

“No!” the young crowd yowled joyfully, already shoving and jumping over each other.

“Let’s show them what the new generation can do!” Wolverinepaw called. Her followers cheered, yowling to the high branches. They scattered throughout the clearing and split into sparring groups. They steadied their stances and wiggled their flanks. With sheathed paws, the youth of the Clans launched into training, trading blows and careful bites. Slushpaw lingered near the edge of the training grounds, cheering the others on.

“Slushpaw!” Sandpaw yowled to the older mediator apprentice. “What are they doing?”

“Well,” Slushpaw laughed, trotting up to Sandpaw, Spikecrash, and Estherfern, “Yarrowpaw and Wolverinepaw were arguing with Darkkick and another old warrior about what was a better trait in a fight; youth or experience. Suddenly all these other cats started joining in, and now the senior warriors are going to have a big mock-battle with the apprentices, plus some warriors who haven’t attended a Harvest Moon before.”

“And Wolverinepaw’s participating in this?” Estherfern huffed. She searched for her daughter in the crowd. She found Wolverinepaw rolling about with Yarrowpaw in the middle of the mess. Yarrowpaw shoved Wolverinepaw’s head into the dirt. Wolverinepaw snapped her jaw around Yarrowpaw’s leg and pulled her onto her shoulder. Yarrowpaw laughed as Wolverinepaw took her place on top of the older apprentice.

"She's as capable as any apprentice her age," Spikecrash assured Estherfern.

"She seemed so insecure during her ceremony…" Estherfern muttered.

"Wolverinepaw?" Spikecrash chuckled. "I don't think so. From what I've heard, she thinks she's strong enough to take on an actual wolverine."

"She didn't choose a role in time, though," Estherfern pointed out.

"Because she wanted to do everything!" Slushpaw laughed. "I talked with her right up to her ceremony. She had a new role in mind every day!" Oh. Had Wolverinepaw's sight not come up at all? Surely her decaying vision would make it hard for her to fight. Yet she kept up with Yarrowpaw, tumbling across the clearing with abandon. Had Estherfern's kits always been so sure of themselves? Surely they wanted cures. How else could they survive in a world that showed no mercy to the weak? In the cat-minded human's den, if you couldn't match up to the others, you wouldn't eat. Three of Estherfern's brilliant kits would have died in that awful place. Except…they weren't there anymore, were they?

"Can I guess what's been going on?" Spikecrash asked. "You've been so focused on a cure in their future, you've ignored how they are in the present. When's the last time you talked to them about something, anything but their health? Have you talked to Foampaw or Boughpaw at all?" Estherfern glanced from one kit to another. Their faces glowed with holiday glee. Did they ever glow around Estherfern anymore? When was the last time she shared a meal with them?

"Spikecrash," Estherfern muttered, her pride burning her words, "I need you to teach me something."

A short time later, Estherfern approached Thunderpaw and the RippleClan stew. The bounties of the ocean danced in the broth, specially prepared for that oh so exciting celebration. Thunderpaw stared eagerly into the stew while Stormpaw and their mentors talked with other caretakers. She spotted her mother and her eyes grew big and calm, mimicking Estherfern's eternally serene expression. Estherfern's heart did not carry that serenity as she approached her bold daughter.

"Do you need…" Estherfern said hesitantly. She awkwardly sat on her hind legs. She held out one paw, pads down, and angled the other on top of it, claws out. Thunderpaw's eyes sparkled at the sign.

"Help," she whispered as Estherfern quickly returned to a natural position. Thunderpaw made the sign with ease, quickly hopping from her hind legs and back. She ogled Estherfern, her thoughts not caught up to reality.

"I want to spend time with you," Estherfern explained. It felt like someone carved her pelt off, leaving her exposed. "I want to share your stew with you and your littermates." Thunderpaw blinked slowly. It took her so long to reply, Estherfern was about to repeat herself, just in case her pounding heart muffled her words.

"Do you want to learn the sign for littermates while the stew finishes cooking?" Thunderpaw gulped. The tip of her tail twitched wildly as her earlier joy bloomed across her face once more.

"If it means time with you," Estherfern sighed.

(Estherfern: 109, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Troutpool: 36, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Weevilpaw: 10, female, cleric apprentice, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Honeybuzz: 23, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Spikecrash: 50, female, mediator, wise, good speaker, lore keeper)

(Sandpaw: 6, male, mediator apprentice, loyal, interested in Clan history)

(Drumtooth: 23, trans male, caretaker, loyal, great hunter, clever)

(Thunderpaw: 7, female, caretaker apprentice,

(Stormpaw: 6, female, caretaker apprentice, charismatic, loves to eat)

(Clammask: 69, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)

(Brightpaw: 7, male, warrior apprentice, lonesome, lover of art)

(Wolverinepaw: 7, female, warrior apprentice, compassionate, always asking questions)

(Yarrowpaw: 10, female, warrior apprentice, thoughtful, stares at fire)

(Slushpaw: 11, female, mediator apprentice, wise, quick witted, bats at string)

[simbasomba]

Fires parents vs fires REAL parents

[spikeclan]

Moon 13

Bloodtail adopts Yellowpaw!! Her daughter now!

[rngknsk]

Rereading the warriors series after 10 years, here’s some yellas

[clangen]

Yellowfang in ClanGen (requested by @cuttlesobligatoryartblog)

[once-a-kittypet]

Figured this would happen eventually, but there were some designs I felt like I *really* needed to update/fix a few things on!

Spottedleaf I realized I forgot the spot on her eye, whoops-

While drawing Willowpelt I knew that she was definitely way too dark to be considered "pale gray" so I decided to adjust her colors and make her lighter to more accurately portray how she looks in canon but I'm not sure if I like it more than her original design? Either way, here's a more canon design for Willowpelt if anyone prefers this over the original

And finally Yellowfang who funnily enough... I forgot to make her teeth yellow... truly my biggest shame as a Warrior Cats fan... anyways- I fixed it lol I'll probably have more of these in the future as time goes on since there are *so* many characters in this darn series I'm bound to forget something else or go back on a design choice I made eventually plus there are some cats from my earlier batches that I want to redraw completely (mostly Henry because he just looks WAY too wonky for me to leave as is, Rusty maybe, and I think I want to make some minor adjustments to Bluestar's anatomy?)

[flaxclan]

Moon 145 + 146

When are things getting interesting??? GRAHHH

[meroaw]

yellowpaw and yellowfang designs

[furledleaves]

her.... scrungly old mom....... of COURSE she has a moustache and an underbite what do you take me for, a fool??? i also think shes got folded ears because ummmmm its a vibe

[devilclan-clangen]

Moon 1, part 1/2

Finally, the long awaited moon 1. Even though it's only part 1 lol. I don't have a picture of Yellowpaw's sprite as an apprentice so they're stuck as kit until they become a warrior.

Start: Welcome to devilclan

Prev: Moon 0

Next: Moon 1, part 2

Asks are open!

Transcript:

"Are you going to help us around here?"

"Just because some cats die doesn't mean that's an excuse."

"You don't know anything."

"My whole family's dead and you don't see me moping around."

"Hmph."

"We have to figure stuff out though. I think you have to be leader."

"Me?! Why me?!"

"Well I'm the medicine cat and the others are too young. Your brother was also deputy."

"I'm not replacing him."

"You wouldn't be replacing..."

"It's because I look like him and he's my brother means I am him. I love him but I'm tired of living in his shadow."

"Maybe you could be the leader he never got to be but also be your own?"

"If Fleckpaw is leader does that make me deputy?"

"I don't think I'm ready though."

"I don't think anybody's ever ready."

"You seem ready to take charge. Why can't you be leader?"

"I'm the medicine cat, I can't."

"I'll be the medicine cat!"

"Fine. I'll be the leader."

[End]

[pastamurdercats]

hi it’s me your favourite goober

idea: please yellowfang and foxheart i love them dearly

:3

Wooo, these goobers! I didn't like Foxheart when I first read Yellowfang's Secret, but she is silly. Yellowfang is a grumpy old woman, I adore her.

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 80

Honeybuzz recovers in time to give Weevilsight her name. However, while the other clerics commune with StarClan and Weevilsight sits her vigil outside, she's attacked. While she can't identify the attackers, she reeks of SlugClan.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz, Troutpool, and Estherfern gather around Weevilsight. Weevilsight yowls, "Finally!" Under her, it reads LEVEL UP! WEEVILPAW → WEEVILSIGHT, CURIOUS ABOUT STARCLAN → DEEP STARCLAN BOND, + CONDITION: MANGLED TAIL. Under Honeybuzz, it says - CONDITION: TORN EAR.]

(Weevilsight: 15, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)

(Troutpool: 41, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Honeybuzz: 28, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Estherfern: 114, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

RippleClan welcomes a new batch of graduates: Yellowburst, Stormjump, Thundergale, Boughfur, and Wolverineheart. When her vigil is through, Thundergale has a strange proposition.

[Image ID: Yellowburst, Stormjump, Thundergale, Boughfur, and Wolverineheart stand together, the latter three sporting adult sprites. Under Yellowburst, it says LEVEL UP! YELLOWPAW → YELLOWBURST, COLD → ADVENTUROUS, QUICK TO MAKE PEACE → GOOD MEDIATOR. Under Stormjump, it says LEVEL UP! STORMPAW → STORMJUMP, LOVES TO EAT → INCREDIBLE COOK. Under Thundergale, it reads LEVEL UP! THUNDERPAW → THUNDERGALE, MOSS-BALL HUNTER → GREAT HUNTER, + NEW SKILL: GOOD SPEAKER. Under Boughfur, it says LEVEL UP! BOUGHPAW → BOUGHFUR, CONSTANTLY CLIMBING → GOOD CLIMBER. Under Wolverineheart, it says LEVEL UP! WOLVERINEPAW → WOLVERINEHEART, COMPASSIONATE → TROUBLESOME, ALWAYS ASKING QUESTIONS → STUDENT OF SCIENCE.]

---

Thundergale couldn't have imagined sitting vigil alone. She pitied cats who graduated without their littermates; how could they manage a night alone, roaming the edges of camp, pondering the enormity of adulthood with no escape? Of course, Thundergale was a bit privileged when it came to guarding camp. With her hearing loss, it simply wasn't safe for Thundergale to be alone on guard duty. There were too many things she could miss. But that just made nights like her vigil better, because she always had someone at her side.

Thundergale could tell that Yellowburst and Wolverineheart itched to speak as dawn showed its first beams. They padded around the camp entrance, a dozen thoughts trapped in their mouths. Stormjump stared at the sunrise, constantly glancing back to camp for someone to end the long night. Boughfur was the only one to sit tall and proper, opposite of Thundergale. Stormjump and Yellowburst had built a small fire outside camp to fight off the freezing snow around them, but now that fire was little more than smolders.

"Good morning!" Asterblaze and Waspdawn slipped out of camp, pelts fluffed and eyes bright. Yellowburst and Stormjump slunk to their father's side, bunting heads and purring. Thundergale peered into camp. Estherfern sat outside the medicine den, tail tucked over her paws, ear flicking gently in the soft winter breeze.

"Did you hear me, Thundergale?" Asterblaze asked. Thundergale turned back as what little heat remaining inside her went to her ears. Wolverineheart and Boughfur danced around one another, but Thundergale couldn't hear their celebration. "I said you're free to speak again."

"Thank you," Thundergale said. Her voice still echoed in her head, but it seemed quieter when it escaped.

"Let's find Sandpaw," Stormjump told her sister as the pair followed their father into camp. "I want to brag…" Her voice grew too far for Thundergale to hear the rest of the comment. Asterblaze followed the family through. Boughfur and Wolverineheart suddenly pulled themselves from their little party and pounced on Thundergale.

"No more flea duty!" Wolverineheart signed, almost too excited to sign clearly.

"Who do you think made our graduation presents?" Thundergale wondered. She paused mid-sign with a huge yawn.

"Let's go to sleep and find out," Boughfur quickly signed, her paw-work sloppy as she tried to head for the camp entrance. She led her sisters into RippleClan, licking her cold paws.

Oilstripe organized a sunrise patrol by the Shiprock with Lemmy, Cobaltpaw, and Puddlewhisper. Ravenweaver, Mitespark, and Clammask argued over the Clan's first meal beside the unlit stove while Paleseed did her best to mediate the disagreement. Yarrowclaw rushed past Thundergale, kicking up sandy snow in her rush to get out of camp. Trumpetspore and Mosspounce rekindled the bonfire in the center of camp, dulled after a peaceful night. Even though Thundergale eagerly ached to rest in her new nest, she soaked in the life of her Clan. There was so much to learn from every single cat, so many skills and tasks a cat could master, even outside of their chosen role. Joining RippleClan was the best decision Estherfern ever made.

Speaking of Estherfern, the brown molly waved her daughters toward her. Boughfur and Thundergale glanced at each other while Wolverineheart squinted to see what was happening. No one dared make the first move. Spikecrash's scent drifted closer. Thundergale spotted the scarred mediator first and drew her sisters' attention. Spikecrash strolled up to Thundergale's ear, stretching to reach her.

"I'll lead you over there," Spikecrash promised. She stepped back and winked at the trio. She strolled toward the medicine den, tail high. Thundergale took a deep breath. She, Wolverineheart, and Boughfur made their way toward their mother.

"I'm proud of you three," Estherfern said when the group approached. Spikecrash quickly stepped away, cheekily glancing at the new graduates as she left them. Estherfern paused before she continued. She slowly made the sign for "proud", flicking her ears toward Thundergale one by one. Truthfully, it was closer to the sign for "dig" with how slow she went, but Thundergale stayed quiet. She was trying, after all.

"Thanks, Mom," Wolverineheart sighed, signing while she spoke.

"How's Brightpaw?" Boughfur asked, glancing behind Estherfern.

"The dog spit and bird blood in the wound puts Brightpaw at risk for severe infection," Estherfern explained. "He's resting right now, but I'm watching him closely."

"You're watching him?" Wolverineheart scoffed. Even her signs looked dismissive. "I thought medicine wasn't a priestess's domain."

"It isn't," Estherfern admitted, shoulders shifting under her daughters' scrutiny. "It is a cleric's domain, however. If I'm a cleric by name, I should be able to help my fellow clerics in all aspects of their work."

"You know medicine now?" Thundergale asked. She focused on the sign for "medicine"; a paw, raised slightly, and spinning over the other paw like a cleric grinding herbs.

"I've asked Weevilsight to help me," Estherfern admitted. "Unlike some cats, she won't make my lessons more difficult than they should be."

"But why?" Boughfur asked. "Why learn now?"

"My pride got in the way of everything," Estherfern sighed, making the same sign as earlier with her ears. "No more. I've killed my old habits. I'm learning to be a new cat, and hopefully a new mother." Learning… Estherfern really was learning a lot. Medicine, Clan-sign, motherhood, listening; it was so much like the informal second apprenticeships many cats pursued after graduation. Yet Estherfern had to pursue a lot of this knowledge on her own, hoping others would give her a second chance and show an old molly a new way to see the world. What if there was someone in the Clan dedicated to helping cats like Estherfern?

"Wolverine," Thundergale asked slowly, glancing toward the leader's den. "Can you help me? I need some translation."

"Can it be after we sleep?" Wolverineheart asked, words lost in a yawn.

"Yes, I should let you rest," Estherfern coughed, stepping back into the medicine den. "We can speak more later. If you want."

"I think I do," Thundergale stammered, "but Wolverineheart, I really need a translator right now, before Downstar leaves camp."

"I'll help, Thunder," Boughfur chirped, adjusting her forget-me-not decor as Estherfern hid a purr and returned to the shadows of the medicine den. Thundergale nudged her dark brown sister toward the leader's den, skirting around Lemmy's departing patrol while Wolverineheart gleefully hurried to the warrior's den for a well-deserved rest.

"Downstar?" Thundergale called into the leader's den. The gray-muzzled leader rested in her nest, still grooming herself. Halibutdusk and Wildclaw lounged beside her, talking too quiet for Thundergale to hear.

"Thundergale, Boughfur," Downstar said, nodding to each new graduate. "I thought you would be settled in your nests by now. I told Asterblaze he could relieve you." Downstar's voice weakened at a few essential moments, but Boughfur was there to help. She instinctually moved in front of Thundergale and signed what Downstar said. She had become as skilled in Clan-sign as Thundergale.

"You did," Thundergale said, "but there's something I wanted to talk to you about before I lost my words." Downstar studied Thundergale for a moment. Then she muttered something to her kits, who touched noses with their mother and slipped around Thundergale. When they were gone, Downstar nodded for Thundergale to continue. Thundergale's throat tightened. She turned to Boughfur, her ideas trapped. Boughfur balanced on her hind legs, ready to support her sister with whatever she needed. Thundergale forced herself to breath.

"I enjoyed my training as a caretaker," Thundergale signed. Boughfur stammered for a moment, catching up with her sister's message. Downstar glanced between Thundergale and Boughfur as the former spoke and the latter explained. "Drumtooth was a good mentor. I like caring for others. In some ways, though, Mummichogleap was the more important mentor. Without his lessons, I would struggle to explain myself. I would lose my words because I couldn't hear them. I'd fail to speak to others because I could not hear them. I'm so grateful to Mummichogleap for teaching me Clan-sign. When I came back from my lessons, I began to realize, my favorite thing to do wasn't tending the fire or watching kits or any of the typical caretaker tasks. I loved teaching.

"I've taught all my littermates how to use Clan-sign, and my mother is starting to learn as well. Stormjump, Yellowburst, and Sandpaw wanted to learn as well. Drumtooth is able to sign the most important words, and I've had a few cats ask me for the signs of specific phrases. I loved all of that. I want to do that for the rest of my life.

"Downstar, I think the Clans are missing something. Historians remember our history and study the world. Warriors learn the most complex battle techniques. Codekeepers memorize every detail of the code. But it all rests on the mentor to teach their apprentice those skills. If the apprentice wants to learn other skills, they have to ask for favors. They have to hope someone will let them study in a second apprenticeship. What if we made learning easier? What if cats could come to a teacher whenever they wanted to learn a new skill? Mentors could get help for their apprentices without insecurity. Kits could learn basic skills as they decide on their futures. Downstar, I don't want to be a caretaker. I want to be a teacher."

"Are you suggesting an entirely new position in the Clan?" Downstar finally asked after Boughfur finished translating.

"Teachers could learn a bit about every position," Thundergale explained. "I would know enough about most subjects to assist an apprentice during their training. I can learn the best ways to teach cats, young and old, so that anyone who wants to learn has someone to talk to. I want to teach cats more Clan-sign, but I also want to teach codekeepers about fire safety. I want to teach artistic warriors about making paint. I want to teach antsy artisans better hunting skills. I want the Clans to know anything they want to know."

"What you're suggesting is a major change to RippleClan's lifestyle," Downstar pointed out. "You may step on more than a few mentors' paws."

"I think they'll like the help," Thundergale said aloud, confidence restored. "I have ideas, Downstar. Can I try?" Downstar tappd her paw on the edge of her nest. Her whiskers twitched, deep in thought. Thundergale couldn't help but crouch as her leader decided her fate.

"Get some rest," Downstar finally said. "We can discuss the details of this… teacher position once you've slept."

"Thank you, Downstar!" Thundergale gasped, almost flying off the ground.

"I still want you to fulfill your caretaker duties while we see if this new role is viable," Downstar warned, "but RippleClan is the Clan of new opportunities. I can tell you're earnest. Good luck, Thundergale. Now, both of you, go to your nests. Ravenweaver made you both a down-stuffed head rest." Boughfur and Thundergale both dipped their heads to the tortoiseshell leader. Boughfur brushed against Thundergale and nudged her toward the warrior's den. Thundergale took the lead. She wouldn't be surprised if she couldn't sleep.

Thundergale was going to make history!

(Thundergale: 12, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)

(Yellowburst: 11, female, caretaker, adventurous, good mediator)

(Wolverineheart: 12, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)

(Stormjump: 11, female, caretaker, charismatic, incredible cook)

(Boughfur: 12, female, historian, righteous, good climber)

(Asterblaze: 27, male, caretaker, thoughtful, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Waspdawn: 46, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Estherfern: 114, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Spikecrash: 55, female, mediator, wise, good speaker, lore keeper)

(Downstar: 139, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

Yellowburst gets yellowcough, making the clerics wonder if it is an omen. Meanwhile, Shrewkit tells Ravenweaver to make a move on Brightpaw.

[Image ID: Yellowburst stands in the back, with + CONDITION: YELLOWCOUGH under her. Brightpaw and Venturedapple chat to the side. Brightpaw now has an adult sprite. Shrewkit says to Ravenweaver, "Talk to him!"]

(Yellowburst: 11, female, caretaker, adventurous, good mediator)

(Ravenweaver: 15, female, artisan, den builder, very clever)

(Shrewkit: 4, male, kit, bossy, never sits still)

(Brightpaw: 12, male, warrior apprentice, lonesome, lover of art)

(Venturedapple: 68, male, codekeeper, cold, eloquent speaker)

Currentsmoke falls through melting ice on the Great Northern River and breaks his jaw.

[Image ID: Yarrowclaw, Anchovystrike, Moontide, and Leathermask watch Currentsmoke in the distance, who has + CONDITION: BROKEN JAW under him. Yarrowclaw yowls, "Current!"]

---

Yarrowclaw had been running herself into the ground over the last quarter moon. Anchovystrike hardly saw his sister in the warrior's den, or even in camp. She always seemed to be out on some patrol, like she was the only warrior in the Clan. Anchovystrike hadn't seen Yarrowclaw sharing tongues or rest at sunhigh. Maybe Yarrowclaw was simply worried about Weevilsight and Yellowburst. Maybe she didn't know her limits now that she was a warrior. Whatever it was, Anchovystrike needed to remind his sister how to breathe, and a trip to the river seemed like the best solution.

Anchovystrike led the way, bounding through the snow like a kit. Yarrowclaw kept pace with him in a swift jog. Currentsmoke, Leathermask, and Moontide trailed behind, chatting about nothing at all. No matter where Anchovystrike looked, he couldn't see a single sliver of ichor. The land was finally pure. That alone was reason to head out!

"Maybe we can build a snowcat, like when we were kits!" Anchovystrike suggested, nudging his sister.

"We need to build a fire first," Yarrowclaw chirped. "With how long you want to spend by the river, we need to keep warm. If we have a fire, we can fish and not worry about freezing."

"Or we can have fun," Moontide laughed, hurrying to Yarrowclaw's bad side. "This isn't a patrol, Yarrow! It's a day by the river. I want to go swimming!"

"But Yarrowclaw is right," Leathermask pointed out. "We do need a fire if we want to go into the water in this weather. Even our long fur isn't going to keep us warm enough, Moontide."

"Exactly," Yarrowclaw said, tail high. "I'll find dry sticks. We will have fun, but we'll also help the Clan, check the border, find some fish, socialize…" Yarrowclaw shook out her pelt and picked up speed. "Come on!" Anchovystrike and Moontide shot each other a cocky glance, but it was Currentsmoke who raced past them first, laughing.

"Last one to the river is crowfood!" he laughed. Anchovystrike eagerly took up the challenge. His paws skidded through the snow as he picked up momentum. Moontide howled, copying her friends.

The water along the sides of the river was completely frozen. The ice glistened and burned in the sun. Rocks jutted through the ice, forever sturdy against the passing seasons. Water still flowed through the heart of the river, icy cold and skittering across the surface-level stones.

A black and white molly paced along the ice, her clawed-out eye facing the Clan cats. Crow feathers lined her pelt. Yet as she turned in her pacing, Anchovystrike realized they weren't just decor, not in his eyes. The feathers seemed to grow out of the molly's pelt as naturally as fur. A few feathers constantly drifted off and fluttered onto the snow, stark black against white. Yet when Anchovystrike blinked, those fallen feathers would vanish. What supernatural sign was this? An old memory stirred inside him of the nursery, gathered around Lemmy as she explained the origins of her odd name and just where she came from. Those feathers meant something.

"Hello?" Anchovystrike called, trotting to a stop. Yarrowclaw and Currentsmoke stared at the stranger silently, whiskers flicking in curiosity. Leathermask's fur prickled as he slid in beside Anchovystrike. Moontide stumbled past Anchovystrike, taking a moment to recognize the outsider. The black and white molly lifted her head, staring at Anchovystrike.

"RippleClan?" she called. She sat at the river's edge, feathery tail covering her downy paws. She seemed half-bird when she faced the Clan cats head-on.

"We're RippleClan, yes," Anchovystrike said, approaching the riverside. "Those feathers… are you the Witch Hunter General?"

"I am," the molly said, dipping her head, "but not the one you know. My name is Pearl. Our old General, Madeline, has passed to the Other Side. I have taken command of the Witch Hunters. I seek to honor the peace between our colonies and introduce myself as a new leader to your Clans, as a sign of friendship."

"Well, thank you!" Currentsmoke chirped. "It's nice to meet you, Pearl. I'm Currentsmoke. Yarrowclaw and I met one of your Witch Hunters a while ago! He joined RippleClan. His name used to be Venture, did you know him?"

"I was wondering where he ran off to," Pearl hummed, gently cocking her head. "Did he tell you while he left the settlement?"

"He didn't go into specifics," Currentsmoke said. Yarrowclaw left the riverside and sniffed around the trees for suitable fire materials. "He just said he wanted to leave."

"He had a good reason to," Pearl admitted. "I'm afraid after Madeline's passing, Achilles and I argued about the future of the Witch Hunters. My ascension to Witch Hunter General was not clean. I can't say either of us were fair or just, and Venture was one of a few who left the settlement because of that. I hope RippleClan is a fairer place for him to live."

"Why don't we take you to Downstar?" Currentsmoke suggested. He stepped onto the snow-covered ice of the Great Northern River. "If you want to discuss better relations, she would be the cat to talk to!" The snow crunched under Currentsmoke's weight. He watched the flowing water closely, eyeing the thickness of the ice. He playfully wiggled his flank as he gauged how far he had to jump.

"Currentsmoke, don't show off," Moontide chuckled. Currentsmoke tensed and crouched against the ice and snow. His claws snapped onto the ice. He jumped over the open water, shoving a clump of snow into the current. His front paws smacked onto the ice, the snow providing the needed friction. His back paws, however, landed on the corner of the ice. A loud crack bounced through the trees.

"Current!" Yarrowclaw yowled, shoving past her Clanmates. The ice broke away from the shore. Currentsmoke's flank tumbled into the flowing water. The ice shard flipped and smacked Currentsmoke hard in the face. The ginger and white caretaker fell limp into the river. His body caught on the stepping stones. Blood seeped from his face and thundered toward the ocean.

"Careful, careful!" Leathermask yowled as Yarrowclaw raced toward the river. Pearl scrambled to Currentsmoke, grabbing his scruff. The Witch Hunter General lifted the tom's head out of the water. Anchovystrike's stomach dropped. A huge gash trailed over Currentsmoke's cheek and his teeth stabbed through his lips. His jaw dangled at an awkward angle.

Pearl and Yarrowclaw lifted Currentsmoke out of the freezing water and off the snowy ice. Anchovystrike shoved Pearl aside and took her place carrying his brother. Anchovystrike couldn't help but whimper at the smell of Currentsmoke's blood. Anchovystrike didn't care about the Witch Hunter General, he didn't care about Yarrowclaw's bad mood or the ruined plans.

He just had to make sure Currentsmoke didn't die.

(Anchovystrike: 15, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)

(Yarrowclaw: 15, female, warrior, cold, talented fire-starter)

(Moontide: 15, female, warrior, playful, excellent teacher)

(Leathermask: 28, male, warrior, nervous, good fighter, eloquent speaker)

(Currentsmoke: 15, male, caretaker, loving, good climber, skilled toolsmith)

(Pearl: 61, female, Witch Hunter General, careful, explorer, clever)

[yellopawsjourneyau]

Yellowpaw redesign! Just as first post here to start with getting things in order for the AU!

[spikeclan]

Moon 12

Oh whose this?