#redux Iterum

[murdercatdesign]

figured i'd post this fanart of The Family Ever from the @redux-iterum, i was inspired by someone else's fanart recently

anyways the happy family nothing bad ever happens to them they all live happily ever after dude trust me

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Epilogue

(AO3 counterpart here.)

The sky arched over the earth in an impressive display of colors. Cinderpaw was situated outside of the Mother in a way where the massive legs kept her from seeing the horizons on either side of the world, but the sun’s glow was fighting hard to retain its gold and red, while on the other end stars crawled into the sky higher and higher in the deep blues and purples of night.

Cinderpaw’s eyes drifted between the stars she could see, connecting them with invisible lines and forming inexact silhouettes. She wondered if the stars ever made the shape of a cat or some other animal. Maybe that would make StarClan a little self-centered, to actually make a cat out of cats, but what else was a feline, really? At least, that was what Yellowfang had always said.

“Oh!”

She looked back down. Several cats were approaching, two of them crossing the road together. The smallest of them, a pair of patched cats, were coming around the corner of the Mother’s left leg. The older one, grey-and-white, was the one who had spoken.

“I did not expect you to be here so early,” he said in his soft, slightly creaky voice. “Apologies for making you wait.”

“Hi, Fognose.” Cinderpaw waved her tail and stood up. “I actually got here yesterday. Firestar had his ceremony and we thought I should stay here to save myself a trip.”

“Good idea,” said WindClan’s seer, a handsome dark brown tom named Buzzardface. He looked just as impassive as the rest of his Clan, but his words were kind. “Sorry about your mentor. Heard after the Gathering.”

“Yeah…” Cinderpaw sighed. “Thanks. I’m just glad the stars let me help name Firestar.”

“They know you’re not a fool.” Mudcloud said, another patched tom (this time dark brown) from RiverClan. His pleasantly round face squished in a bit with amusement. “If Yellowfang herself didn’t come down to swat you, I’m sure you did it right.”

Fognose and his apprentice, Littlepaw, both chuffed.

“She didn’t, luckily,” Cinderpaw said with a purr.

Fognose reached Cinderpaw. She saw a dim grief in his eyes. “I do hope she watches over us tonight. Her best apprentice ought to receive her name with her mentor present.” Before a heavy pause could rest between the seers, Fognose cleared his throat. “Now, I am to give you your name, and I know we have more than one option for you. You could be a -belly, and you could change your name entirely to honor your leg. I remember that you talked about that, once…”

“Well, actually—” Cinderpaw lifted a paw. “I have a different name I’d like, if I’m allowed.”

The toms all fell silent, looking at each other curiously. Fognose tilted his head.

“I know it’s a weird request, but I’d like to be given -pelt.” At the slightly confused squint from Buzzardface, Cinderpaw hastened to add, “Yellowfang’s old name was Murkpelt when she was in ShadowClan. I want something to honor her with for the rest of my life, and I think having part of her name with me is the best I can do.”

Mudcloud blinked. “You want your name to not be your own?”

“I do,” Cinderpaw said with a firm nod. She added to Fognose, “Please.”

Littlepaw looked up at his mentor, gauging his reaction. Hesitantly, he offered, “I think it would honor your mentor, sir.”

“It would,” Fognose murmured. His eyes warmed as he regarded the taller Cinderpaw. “Very well, then. At your request.”

“Best get started.” Buzzardface started off for the mouth of the Mother, the other seers following him.

The walk inside those tunnels, with the absolute lack of sensory input, alarmed many apprentices and warriors. Cinderpaw herself strolled along with confidence, having a faint impression of being gently held in the belly of a queen, even if it was absolutely freezing in here.

The party reached the cave of the Moon Stone in what seemed like no time at all. Fognose turned and stood with his back to the Mother’s heart, while the other seers sat to the side and Cinderpaw stood across from him.

I know my lines, she thought. I know them. I do. I just wish they weren’t so long. Warriors don’t have to deal with this…

“Mirra, the Three, and StarClan,” Fognose began, startling her. “I ask that you bear witness to our ceremony tonight, and bring blessings to this young seer.” He looked at Cinderpaw. “Why have you come to our Mother’s heart?”

Cinderpaw straightened up. “I ask for my name promised to me in the light of the moon and stars.”

She got that part right; Fognose looked pleased. “What have you done to earn your name?”

“I have been taught to read the mysteries of leaf, feather, and light, in the stones of my soul,” Cinderpaw replied. “I have learned the law of our mothers’ mothers. With everything I see in the light of the stars, I shall earn my name.”

“How will you use your name?” Fognose asked.

Cinderpaw felt a warm glow in her chest. “I will guide my cats in the path of starlight. I will speak what I see. With this, I shall use my name.”

Fognose leaned a little forward. “Who do you ask to honor your name?”

Here came the big one. Cinderpaw took in a deep breath. “I ask the Endless Watcher for the courage to bear my name well in the light of the sun. I ask the Pathcarver for the discretion to bear my name well in the light of the moon.” The glowing warmth intensified. “I ask the Twilight for the voice to bear my name well in the path of starlight.”

Fognose turned his head to look at the other seers, who were all watching intently. “Do we agree to bestow this apprentice with the name of a seer, and all it entails?”

“I agree,” said Buzzardface.

“As do I,” Mudcloud said.

Littlepaw simply nodded. Apprentices didn’t have a voice in the ceremony, but he had an eager look on his face when he watched Cinderpaw, like he was imagining his own naming.

Fognose turned back to Cinderpaw, his big eyes crinkled. “Blessed apprentice of the stars, that which you ask for will be given. In the heart of the Mother, under the eye of the lady Suriin, in the light of our lord Rokhar, I call you by your name.” He bowed his head. “Welcome, Cinderpelt. May StarClan light your path.”

The chant had less voices in it, but they echoed in this cavern enough to drown out a warrior’s cheer. “Cinderpelt! Cinderpelt!”

The warmth flared into heat, just for a moment, before softening and fading entirely. Cinderpelt bowed her head to Fognose in turn as the other seers gathered closer.

“Blessings and congratulations,” Littlepaw said to her. “ThunderClan will be proud of you when you come home.”

Cinderpelt ruffled his head-fur. “And I’ll be proud of you when it’s your turn.”

“With that,” Mudcloud said, “we ought to dream now.”

Cinderpelt went up with the others and touched her nose to the Moon Stone—she’d never get over the blast of ice flowing through her body as soon as she made contact. She backed up and sat down, facing the stone, while the other seers laid down around her and shut their eyes.

As Yellowfang had instructed her so long ago, she shut her own, but didn’t go to sleep. Instead, she breathed in and out slowly, the world around her seeping into her body. Every hair on her pelt was touched by something different: a swallow taking flight from the Barn’s entrance, a doe raising her head from the grass and watching a distant bush suspiciously rustle, the wind carrying the scents of far-distant lands down the moor and into the forest. She followed that wind, racing without moving a whisker, and entered the forest, listening and seeing from the darkness of the Mother.

---

It’s just not fair.

She walks aimlessly, her path indiscriminate, stepping one direction and turning in another. Pain and hunger and ennui cling to her essence, dragging her down by her long, blue fur until she’s fighting with everything she has (and it isn’t much) just to keep from sinking to the ground and lying there until she fades.

She’s a failure. She devastated her Clan, forced them to struggle amongst themselves without a leader. She had sworn so long ago that she would never wrong them again, that the kits were gone, that she wouldn’t even look at Oakclaw. She had done so well for so long, and then…

And then this—this form of hers now. Skeletal, her fur greasy and matted, her eyesight agonizingly dull. She can hardly make out a bush in front of her.

How could she have let this happen? What is wrong with her?

Here is the end of her legacy: a shriveled-up bag of bones that left her charges with no one to protect them, no one to lead them.

It took her days to come to her senses; she thought she was still alive, just sleeping, when she opened her eyes and realized her body wasn’t there anymore. She wandered into camp, and only the young and old remained. The warriors were gone. Were they fighting each other for the leader’s spot? Where were they?

And then she saw them walking back into the forest, auras dark and haunted and exhausted. They said nothing to each other as she watched them. She didn’t follow. She was afraid to.

The weights tighten their grip on her soul and yank her towards the earth. She’s forgotten what it was to feel pride and joy at this point. What is there but regret, shame, failure? She used to be someone, and she died as no one. No, worse - as a disappointment.

Maybe… maybe lying down wouldn’t feel so bad for a bit. For forever.

Then heat rests on her shoulders. She blinks, her despair momentarily forgotten, and looks around in confusion. The heat grows, and with it the forest brightens as a form of sunlight steps past ThunderClan’s border.

She stands straight, bristling her matted fur… but, as she squints and strains her eyes, she realizes she needn’t bother.

The form is smaller than usual, quiet and serene, ginger fur smooth and soft. She recognizes the wiry build, the verdant eyes, the gentle, loving aura radiating off of him. He walks calmly, his head high and tail higher, determination setting his face into something nearing majestic.

She knows that light.

“They chose you,” she near-whispers. “You’re… you’re…”

“Firestar now.”

She looks up. On the edge of the forest, standing in the grass of the neutral grounds, is a familiar form: a handsome, tall, warm brown tabby with merriment in his starry eyes. She stares at him. Her paws move without her instruction.

“Sorry to interrupt your descent into wraithhood,” he says as she steps closer. “You were taking a while to get to us.”

“Oakclaw,” she breathes. With that single word, and with every step, the weights begin dropping off of her, one by one.

“Bluestar,” he says, casual and amused, but with that underlying tenderness she remembers from so long ago. “I’m glad I got to you in time.”

The former leader of ThunderClan feels her posture straighten, her knots untangle. “I was worried about my Clan. I couldn’t leave without knowing that they’d be okay.”

“They’ll be okay.” Oakclaw brushes his muzzle against hers, purring. “They made the right choice, and he’ll take care of them just as well as you did. Maybe even better.” He pulls back to look at his beloved with fondness. “You’d be amazed at what they’ve gotten up to since you’ve been gone. I can tell you all about it, if you come with me.”

Bluestar hesitates, just for a heartbeat… but the pull of the material world is gone. She glances back, noticing her form filling out again and fur glowing, just to watch the firelight fade into the woods, before turning back to Oakclaw and saying, “Happily.”

Oakclaw presses his forehead on her neck, their spirit-energy flowing into each other with the simple contact, and starts walking with her, heading for a rising path of starlight coming from the Gatheringplace’s center. Bluestar’s steps are stronger, more deliberate, more regal, like she remembers, like others remember her. She doesn’t look back again as they head for StarClan, tails twined together. She doesn’t need to.

They’re going to be just fine.

[end-poem-art]

"Remorse"

I've been thinking about nothing but this AU for weeks now it is such a good interpretation of the first arc so Obviously I had to draw fanart. They make me emotional

[shitwarriorsquoteunquoteart]

"Bluestar, why isn't Firepaw back from training yet?" Goldenflower asked calmly, starting up Dark Souls boss music.

For my favourite Warriors rewrite out there, @redux-iterum did an amazing job with the first two books they've completed so far! Virtually every character is handled with so much more care and thought.

[bird--egg]

A comic depicting a scene in @redux-iterum story, A Kindling, which is the first part in a series rewriting the warrior cats books. I've read other stories with a similar concept, but none have done it as masterfully as Redux-iterum. The world building is interesting and unique, the characters are fleshed out, and the plot is nail biting. Firestar is given much more of a personality, and the Tigerclaw in this causes me physical agony. PLEASE read it if your into warriors, you won't regret it.

In regards to this scene in particular, it was my favourite in the whole series so far.

[swanbelly]

dustpelt: of course you're an option

fireheart:

[thiswyrmdraws]

more of my favorite orange boy from @redux-iterum !!

[nonbunary-does-arts]

been keeping up with @redux-iterum's Charred Legacy and my fucking god this chapter. The sheer sass.

Fireheart, sweet bundle of joy of a leader, can use his words to cut so far deep; deeper than any claw wound that's for sure.

[teshadraws]

Another quick illustration from the latest chapter to remind y’all to check out @redux-iterum’s rewrite of the first Warriors arc. It’s been an emotional ride, but I love these boys.

[apupcalyptic-art]

Bluestar, surprisingly, was awake. She hadn’t even changed positions from when Fireheart had left earlier: her chin was on the edge of the nest, eyes dull and empty. She gave no indication that she’d heard either of them.

Or saw them.

…Or that she was breathing.

“Bluestar, we’re here to…” Dustpelt started, then trailed off. He sniffed, then froze.

Fireheart, already knowing and desperately hoping it wasn’t so, crouched in front of her still nose. “Bluestar?”

No response. He pawed at her ear. It didn’t twitch.

“…Bluestar?”

I can finally post this! Recent chapters from @redux-iterum are such a rollercoaster, and I wanted to draw this scene ever since this chapter was posted on Patreon... I was just waiting for it to drop today 😅

[master-plague]

i uh, autism'd a bit too hard today folks. @redux-iterum

[shirekai]

fanart redux iterum

fanart for @redux-iterum and @themissinglynx

I really just wanted to get out of my desire to draw Firestar and all the cats that I love from Redux, whether they have come out or when reading the loyalties

I would like to draw when imagining them that and drawing darkstripe with hair on his chin hahaha

I loved drawing the Windclan cats that I chose more than anything

I based the leoparddawn design on which he made lynx (just a little more furry and fluffy) and the same with crockedstar, plus add some scars from warriors toys

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Fifty-Five

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Ready?”

Fireheart said nothing. He just stood still, gazing at the Titan of gods in front of him. Her legs stretched out on either of his sides, caked in mud and grass, the very slightest hint of stone claws peeking from beneath the layers of earth. Spikes like sharp boulders stood tall and rigid on her back—her spine, perhaps, or an armored shell. And still, no sight of a proper head, unless it was buried like her claws were, only leaving a wide, tall mouth that cold air drifted out of, even with the lack of a breeze. Not for the first time, he felt like he was an ant staring down a fox’s hungry maw.

Perhaps a dog’s, rather.

“Fireheart?”

He blinked back to reality and refocused. Cinderpaw was standing a little ahead of him and to his right, head turned back to him and cocked with humorous curiosity. Her tail, for once groomed clean of burrs and grass, curled over her back, waving a little at the crooked tip. One little fang was poking out of her mouth, a faint echo of her mentor’s broken-toothed grin.

“Are you back?” she asked playfully.

Fireheart lowered his ears. “Sorry. Just… got to thinking.” His eyes returned to the mouth of the Mother. “I forgot how intimidating she is.”

“Oh, she’s terrifying,” Cinderpaw said with a cheeriness that reminded Fireheart of Spottedleaf. “That’s the point. Even I’m nervous right now.”

Fireheart’s thoughts drifted again, this time leading him to look up at the sky, dark with a nearly half-moon floating high among the stars. They had been walking since dawn, to the sleepy (and still somewhat-anxious) farewells of their Clanmates. The journey through the forest, past the neutral grounds and up the moorlands of WindClan territory had been entirely silent. Cinderpaw had kept darting looks back at Fireheart, but her mouth stayed closed, tightened into a grimace of anxiety. Fireheart had been busy letting himself feel every sense and texture of the world—the growing grass under his paws, the slightly warm breeze brushing against his ears, the more impressive and welcome warmth of daylight and the sun—in an attempt at meditation. Something to prepare mentally him for the ceremony ahead.

He did not feel remotely prepared. He itched more to turn around and flee the instant Cinderpaw looked away. Even going so long without sleep, he thought he could sprint across the world to escape.

“I’m sorry I’m doing this as an apprentice,” she said, startling him into focusing again. “Yellowfang should be here, and I should be watching her perform the ceremony in person, so I’d be ready in the far future for when it was my turn.” Her eyes sank to the ground and her usual mirth almost entirely disappeared. “It’s absurd, isn’t it? ThunderClan having an apprentice as their only seer.”

Fireheart took a few steps to reach her and gently rested his tail on her haunch. “And they have two very young cats with no experience as leader and deputy. At least you were about to get your name; you count, as far as I’m concerned.”

Cinderpaw huffed a bleak attempt at a chuff, but her expression lightened. “Then let’s work together to not lead the Clan into disaster.” Her own tail thwapped his back leg. “Starting with your ceremony. Come on.”

She limped forward, somehow looking more dignified even with her odd steps. Fireheart silently followed her, resisting tucking his tail between his legs. He gulped as the Mother’s mouth drew closer and closer, stretching wide and swallowing him whole as the pair left the remnants of light behind.

He hadn’t forgotten how bitingly cold it was in her throat. Even so, his steps were ginger on the vaguely damp ground that was more akin to ice than soil, if it was soil. He didn’t really want to know what it actually was.

As before, the black of her innards kept him from being able to “see” Cinderpaw by anything but hearing her breath. He was careful to keep her tail close to his whiskers, just in case she turned suddenly. Thankfully, this time he didn’t need to sneeze from it.

“Are you able to find it on your own?” Fireheart whispered.

He could practically hear Cinderpaw’s amused face. “She would never lead us wrong. Just keep quiet. We’ll get there soon.”

Fireheart shut his mouth tight, winced when he stepped in something wet, and kept walking.

Turns, stretches of nothing, more turns, and then, abruptly, Fireheart had to squint his eyes as the walls flew open and the massive, milk-white Moon Stone greeted them. He stopped in place, staring at it as well as he could until his eyes recovered from the shine the moon, hovering above, blessed this massive rock with.

“Alright,” Cinderpaw sighed out, bouncing a bit like she was trying to psyche herself up. “Fireheart, sit right here.”

He obeyed quickly, coming to stand a few body-lengths across from the Moon Stone and sitting down, attempting to ease his own nerves. Cinderpaw, meanwhile, approached the stone and placed her paw on it.

“StarClan, the Three, and Mirra,” she began. “I bring you a warrior who has proven that he’s ready to be named as the leader of ThunderClan. I ask that you take a moment to come to him, his mind and soul, and hear his words of worry and doubt. I ask that you reach for him and touch his heart, and bless him with the spirit and confidence he needs to become the leader that this Clan deserves.” She paused. “And I ask that you forgive me for performing this ceremony without my name. We’ve been in kind of an emergency state for a bit. It’s been crazy. Yellowfang can tell you all about it.”

Fireheart had to hold back a snort.

“Anyway…” Cinderpaw’s bushy tail raised. “Horoa, Endless Watcher, gift him with honesty and bravery. Suriin, Pathcarver, gift him with knowledge and cleverness. Rokhar, Lord of Twilight, gift him with clarity and focus. StarClan, watch over him and guide his steps as he walks the path of his lifetime.” Her voice faintly echoed. “And Mirra, our Mother, grant him his name and protect his soul as your blood protects all of us.”

There was a small pause before Cinderpaw’s dark fur flared, the light of the Moon Stone catching the tips of her hairs. Fireheart thought he heard the wind, though there was none in this cavern. Before he could say anything, Cinderpaw turned back to him, silhouetted by white, and stepped up to him, almost touching noses.

“Now, Fireheart of ThunderClan,” she said, her voice still faintly echoing, almost sounding like it wasn’t hers. “It is your time to speak. Take your burdens—your fears, worries, doubts, all of your troubles—and give them to the spirits and gods above. Let them be taken from you, and when your soul is cleansed, touch your nose to the Moon Stone and sleep.”

Her nose now touched his forehead, and the cold of the Moon Stone rushed through his body in one complete shiver. When she stepped back, her fur no longer caught the light like it had and a cautiously eager beam graced her face.

“I’m going to leave you here overnight,” she said. “You do as I said, and I’ll come back for you when the moon sinks.” Fireheart blinked in surprise and opened his mouth, but she held up a paw. “You only speak to them tonight. Wait until you can’t hear me anymore, and then you say what you need to.”

Before he could say anything, she set off at an ungainly trot, tail high again, and disappeared around the corner of the entrance of this cavern.

Obediently, Fireheart waited, listening closely as the very faint pawsteps faded. Once he was sure she was gone, he looked at the Moon Stone. He had no idea if anyone was here with him, listening, like Cinderpaw had requested, but he opened his mouth anyway.

“So,” he said, “here I am.”

Silence.

“I’m… sorry, if this is a waste of your time.” His front paws shifted self-consciously. “I know you must get tired of all the ceremonies and blessings and all that. I don’t mean to cause any annoyance with… with what I’ve got to say. Just…”

Another pause, and silence still. Anxiety bubbled from his chest up to his throat, then it burst out of his mouth before he could restrain it.

“I just don’t think I’m supposed to be here,” he blurted. “Dustpelt should, or– or Whitecloud. One of them should be getting their leader name right now. A�� and I should be back at home, hoping everything’s going okay, just being a regular warrior.” His throat tightened. “I don’t know if any of you are here, and I’m almost certain you aren’t, because I shouldn’t be the one getting this blessing. I mean, I-I’m barely about to turn two, and I haven’t even finished training Cloudpaw, and I’m just some dumb softheart they allowed in, and—”

The light of the Moon Stone suddenly flared white, illuminating the cavern so much that Fireheart had to force himself to open his eyes back up and face the painful light. Along the walls, tall shadows danced in barely-distinct shapes, touching the open ceiling in arches and points.

Above even this, a blazing warmth, almost searing, swelled in Fireheart’s body, starting from his chest and sweeping through the rest of him, down to the tip of his tail and the ends of his whiskers. He gasped as he felt the heat roaring behind his eyes and gripping around his heart, pouring into its core.

Then the Moon Stone’s glow faded, and the shadows with it. The warmth sank down his body and dissipated through his toes and claws. He was standing in a freezing cavern again, the only mortal in this hollow in the earth. Still, eyes were on him, an invisible presence bigger than anything he’d ever seen circled around him.

Loud and clear.

Barely able to speak, completely unable to fight a beam at the weight lifted out of his body, he breathed out, “Okay.”

The intensity of the air settled down again. Walking like he was on a cloud, he approached the Moon Stone and touched his nose to it. It was still cold, but the echo of heat in every hair on his body kept him from really feeling it. He stepped back, laid down and curled up, shutting his eyes.

The first thing he saw when he opened them was a huge, empty sky, vibrant blue in the center and paler at the edges of the horizon. He looked down to see endless, softly rolling hills of gold and ginger grass, dotted with the occasional tree that he had never seen before: somewhat like an oak, but leaning more to one side and with a smoother, flatter canopy of leaves. It was warm, even with the wind blowing around him.

On instinct, he looked to his right. A cloud of petals in a calico rainbow of colors danced erratically towards him, swirling and spinning on the wind. He twisted his head to watch it whirl around him, the wind taking on a sound like a trill of amusement. It flew further into the air, and he stared up at it, mesmerized.

A caw sounded off, and out of the corner of his left eye, a massive crow dove through the cluster of petals and flew upwards, a few petals caught in its black beak. It looked down at the little tom below, winked and sailed off into the distance.

Then there was heat—overwhelming like the fire, but not unwelcome.

He blinked and almost jumped backwards in alarm as a massive, mountainous creature suddenly stood before him. He stared at it, this thing vaguely cat-shaped, gold as the grass around them, muscular and long-bodied. A long, thin tail swished back and forth, a flare of dark smoke drifting off at the tip. When he looked up at their face, only a large, bold nose and round muzzle were visible; black smoke drifted around the neck and covered where the eyes should be.

It couldn’t be.

“Horoa?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

He got no response beyond a twitch of long, white whiskers. The giant head lowered, the small cat trembling in awe and fear, and the broad nose rested against his forehead. Another wave of heat flowed through him; with it came a blazing thrill, a joyous urge to run as fast as he could, as far as he could, and chase the largest, most dangerous thing he could find. For an instant, he thought tall warriors formed a ring around him, and—

He opened his eyes.

The Moon Stone no longer shone in front of him, simply sitting as a dull white-grey rock. The visible mote of sky was growing pale, and the stars were gone.

He raised his head with some difficulty, blinking in confusion and sleepiness. The thrill inside him was gone. He was on a cold, hard floor that sucked the warmth from his body. His energy was shot.

“Welcome back.”

He blinked again, more alert, and looked over to his left. Cinderpaw was sitting close to him, her tail curled around her paws and her eyes creased in merriment.

“I saw you,” she said. “Your aura burned. I thought you were on fire for a moment. You must’ve seen something great.”

He braced his front feet on the ground and slowly hauled himself up into a sitting position. “I did. I saw—”

“Ahp.” Cinderpaw shook her head. “Don’t tell me. What you saw and what you said are for you and the stars to know. Nobody else.”

“Oh,” he said, admittedly a little disappointed.

Cinderpaw stood. “Well, Yellowfang told me I could do this part however I wanted, so long as I got the right point across. With that…” She limped up to the leader, lifted a paw and placed it on his chest.

He looked down in mild surprise, then back at her curiously.

“With the blessings of the Three, the Mother, and StarClan…” Her eyes twinkled. “Welcome to leadership, Firestar. You’re gonna be great.”

Firestar.

He was Firestar now. Leader of ThunderClan. Responsible for more lives than he could count. Tasked with serving until the death of his body or his mind.

Cinderpaw lifted away her paw. “How do you feel?”

Firestar opened his mouth and paused, trying to sort out exactly what the answer was. The faintest echo of the thrill of the chase flickered in his heart, the warm gaze of an eye he couldn’t see prickled his fur, and the weight of all of his fears and doubts had been lifted away, leaving his body lighter than it had been in a long time.

He’d been asked this before, though, hadn’t he? And the answer was still the same.

“Like a ThunderClan cat,” he said. “Like a leader.”

Cinderpaw straightened up, beaming. “Awesome. You ready to get out of here?”

Firestar chuffed softly. “Yes. Please. Can we stop by the Barn for prey?”

“Hey, I’m not the one in charge.” Cinderpaw thwapped him with her tail again and started off back into the dark tunnels. Firestar, following, marveled at how the light from outside was so suddenly cut off into blackness.

It wasn’t until they were back outside that Cinderpaw spoke again, vibrating with excitement. “Ohhh, boy, this is awesome. I got to help you get your name! I did it!”

“And you’re still an apprentice.” Firestar caught up to her with a purr. “The next time you come here, you ought to get your own.”

“Oh, I will. The half-moon meeting’s tomorrow, and Fognose already agreed to do the ceremony for me.” Cinderpaw sighed, a little dampened. “I just wish it was Yellowfang instead. She’d be so happy to lace in insults all through the rites. Oh well. Guess I’ll have to be treated nicely instead.”

“What a shame,” Firestar said. He started forward. “Come on, let’s get some food.” He paused, then looked at her again. “Actually, do you want to stay in the Barn tonight? Since you’re coming back here anyway.”

“Oh, good idea.” Cinderpaw tilted her head thoughtfully. “Then again… hm. Will the Clan be okay without me? Will you be okay to travel without me?”

Firestar nodded. “And Barley can keep you fed until tomorrow.” His ears went back sheepishly. “And, if I’m being honest, I think I’d like to journey back alone. Just to think, and feel.”

“That sounds appropriate.” Cinderpaw caught up to him and they started walking again. “First things first, though, let’s make sure you don’t starve to death on the way home.” She looked at him, the sun shining through her expression. “And I mean it. You’re going to do great, Firestar. Don’t let yourself ever doubt that.”

Firestar purred, tail high over his back. “No promises.”

[cagedcats]

Thunderclan ladies - @redux-iterum

The Matriarch, Seer and Leader

I would include another gal, but I’m not sure if she’s gonna be deputy or not in this iteration.

[rufuslupislupis]

@redux-iterum Does this work?

[milkfur]

Fanart of some gray (and silver) @redux-iterum kitties. I think of Redux!SilverGray and their forbidden kittens very often. I can't wait to see them more in the next arc!