#Lavenderkit

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 39, Part 2 (The Trial)

James has been resistant to retiring, but his aches and pains have slowed him down. He approaches Downstar and is honored for his tireless service.

[Image ID: James sits in the middle of the screen.]

It was strange for Weedfoot to consider herself to be even close to elder age. Still, there she was, watching her mate throw off the caretaker title and become an elder. He put on a show for Downstar and the others, claiming that he wanted to continue his service, to guide his kits through apprenticeship, but was “too easily exhausted” to continue his vigilant protection of the camp and all within. Now it was somewhat true; camp duties were his favorite, and walks around the territory had begun to tire him. But Weedfoot was certain that her fellow perceptive Clanmates saw the truth of it all.

James was finally old enough to retire without being called lazy, and he was taking that opportunity like a kit hunts a mossball.

Weedfoot let her mate celebrate his retirement with Parsley and Rabbitjoy. She would have plenty of time with him later, so why not let him brag to his friends about how easy his life would be now? Instead, as the Clan dismissed and Downstar went to her den, Weedfoot followed Downstar. The tortoiseshell leader was a bit like her old, friendly self now that she had Rustshade to pour her worries on, but since Harvest Moon a few days prior…

“Downstar?” Weedfoot called into the leader’s den. Downstar had been about to step into her nest, but turned at the sound of her deputy’s call.

“Something the matter?” Downstar asked. Weedfoot hesitated, unsure how to open the conversation. Paleshade would have known; she was always closer to Downstar than Weedfoot, even compared to the first moons of RippleClan, when the leader and deputy duo flowed together like birds flying in formation.

“I spoke with Rustshade and Mousesong earlier today.” Weedfoot entered the den and took a cautious seat a couple tail-lengths away. “Both will be ready for the trial tomorrow, if that is acceptable.”

“So soon?” Downstar sighed.

“By AshClan standards, this has been tediously slow,” Weedfoot said with a forced chuckle. The tensed muscles under Downstar’s fluffy coat killed Weedfoot’s laugh.

“StarClan,” Downstar groaned, walking toward the exit. “The first trial in RippleClan’s history… and I have to try my own kits.” Downstar paused and stared out at camp. Weedfoot joined her. Downstar’s gaze rested on a group of three outside the warrior’s den. Rustshade leaned close to Shadowdrop and Wildclaw, as he was prone to do in recent days. They were more than likely discussing their plan of attack for the trial once again. The pair of siblings couldn’t leave camp without escorts while they awaited their trial, and the wait physically dragged on Wildclaw. Even as she listened to Rustshade, she glanced toward the camp exit.

“I’m sorry this is happening,” Weedfoot sighed. “This is a fine mess we’ve found ourselves in.”

“How can I hope to judge them fairly when all I see are three healthy grandkits and my son acting like the father he’s dreamed of being?” Downstar turned back and marched into her nest. “The story doesn’t feel real to me.”

“Try not to think about the story too much,” Weedfoot reminded her. “You need to be as open-minded as possible for the trial.”

“I will be,” Downstar growled, tail fluffing. “I don’t give anyone special privileges. If they did something wrong, I’ll punish them, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt!” Weedfoot stiffened. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just wanted to let you know they were ready.” Weedfoot bowed to her leader.

Yet as Weedfoot turned to go, Downstar groaned, “Wait, wait. Don’t leave, Weedfoot. I’m the one who’s sorry. I should not have snapped at you.” Weedfoot hesitated. She slowly approached Downstar and sat beside her. “I haven’t been able to talk to Rustshade while he’s preparing to defend my kits. I can’t deny my current feelings about this mess.”

“We’re conducting this trial together,” Weedfoot reminded her. “If anyone can listen to your worries about it now, I can.” Downstar sighed. She relaxed slightly and shifted closer to Weedfoot.

“Why did they have to go about it like this?” Downstar sighed.

(Weedfoot: 87, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(James: 115, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Downstar: 98, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

Shadowdrop is charged with endangering a queen and stealing her kits. Wildclaw shares the charge. Rustshade acts as their defender and Mousesong as their inquisitor.

[Image ID: Shadowdrop and Wildclaw stand behind Rustshade. The three all watch Mousesong stride forward.]

---

Practically the entirety of RippleClan took the day off to bear witness to the first trial in their young history. Rabbitjoy would still need to cook and they couldn’t simply leave their borders unchecked, but if a cat could stay in camp, they did. Who would want to miss such a spectacle?

Each of the original four Clans had their own traditions for a trial, which meant RippleClan needed their own, and quickly. The Clan had Rattlepelt to thank for their final idea. As the subjects of the trial, Shadowdrop and Wildclaw each wore tight leather bands around their necks, almost like the strange collars of human society. Rustshade had a smaller band around his front paw, a symbol of the defender empathizing and placing themself in the paws of their charges. Mousesong, as inquisitor, had the most elaborate adornment; a necklace lined with beautiful clam shell beads, dyed blue with dogwood bark. The beads clacked together as Mousesong moved like the soft whispers of StarClan taking their place as quiet judges.

Downstar sat on top of the Shiprock, with Weedfoot settled below her, eyeing the Clan for any disruptions to the trial. Fennelspot sat to the side of the rock, fidgeting with the sand under his paws. The sunrise burned across the ocean and covered the camp in warm orange light. The shadows concealed Carnationspeckle and Oilstripe, who sat by the nursery with four kits. Troutkit had opened her eyes the day before and babbled random sounds that vaguely resembled words, but the litter of three black kits were still quiet and shut off from the world.

“A trial is a sacred duty of a just leader,” Downstar declared, all eyes on her. “To decide on guilt and punishment for a crime such as this without hearing from the Clan would be the act of a tyrannical leader. This is why we have our codekeepers; with them, we honor our laws and protect one another.” Shadowdrop’s gaze fell to his paws at the mention of codekeepers.

“A trial demands silence from the audience,” Weedfoot called. “Do not interrupt the proceedings unless there is an emergency. If you need to speak to me, please wave me down and do not draw attention away from the trial.” Weedfoot stared at the elder’s den with that statement. James had his five kits gathered around him. Most were polite and sat quietly, studying the trial, but Lavenderkit squirmed and trotted around his family. Waspkit smacked his brother and forced him to sit. 

“Inquisitor,” Downstar said, turning to Mousesong, “are you ready to provide evidence of code-breaking and prove the guilt of the accused?”

“I am, Downstar,” Mousesong huffed, her necklace clinking as she nodded.

“Defender,” Downstar continued, looking to Rustshade, “are you ready to protect your Clanmates from undue punishment?”

“I am,” Rustshade said.

“And…” Downstar said. She hesitated for a moment as she made eye contact with her son and daughter. “And accused, are you prepared to accept the outcome of this trial, whatever it may be?”

“We are,” Shadowdrop said, unflinching.

“Then inquisitor, explain the purpose of this trial,” Downstar declared, laying down with her paws dangling off the tip of the Shiprock. Mousesong stood and faced the rest of RippleClan.

“Shadowdrop and Wildclaw share the charges of endangering a queen and her kits,” Mousesong began. Her gaze lingered on each of her Clanmates for a few long seconds before moving onto the next cat. “In this, the pair stole three kits from their mother’s belly and left the queen to suffer birthing complications and eventually pass onto wherever the souls of loners go to rest. Today, I will prove to you, cats of RippleClan, that Shadowdrop coerced a loner into having his kits in an attempt to fill the emotional hole left by Carnationspeckle’s rejection of him. In doing this, he recruited Wildclaw to bear witness to the birth and take the kits to RippleClan, where the molly of Shadowdrop’s desires would feel compelled to nurse and care for his children, just as Shadowdrop dreamed.” Oilstripe reflexively moved in front of Carnationspeckle at the mention of the brown molly’s name. 

“Today, I intend to prove that Shadowdrop acted not out of love, but of selfish desire that cost a young molly her life. I also intend to prove that Wildclaw shares this guilt as an accomplice to the stealing of Tempestkit, Mosskit, and Trumpetkit.” Mousesong looked back to Downstar as she said the names of the three newborn kits. Downstar nodded, and Mousesong sat back down.

“Defender,” Downstar said, “how do you refute these charges?”

“The code my charges are accused of breaking is the Code of Queens and Kits,” Rustshade said. Rather than facing the crowd, Rustshade remained focused on Downstar. “However, in the process of this accusation and investigation, members of our Clan have also broken this code. This code is meant to protect kits and their parents from undue harassment, and yet Clammask, Scrubmask, and Fennelspot set off to investigate Shadowdrop’s claims, thereby breaking the code themselves.” Clammask tried to speak, but Scrubmask harshly nudged her, keeping her silent.

“This code allows for the breeding of kits with cats outside of the Clan in order to encourage the growth of our numbers and strength of our blood. We may memorize this code as applying to mollies who become pregnant, but it applies to toms who bring their kits to camp as well. Shadowdrop had no romantic ties to the mother of his kits. He did not break the code in this way. He cannot be blamed for the death of his queen because upon leaving her, she displayed no signs of the fatal condition that would befall her.”

“She had a name, Dad!” Clammask finally snapped. Parsley, Waspkit, and Rabbitjoy yowled their agreement.

“Quiet, quiet!” Weedfoot yowled over them.

“So I have to be quiet but you can yowl all you want?” Lavenderkit hissed at his brother.

“No one should be yowling,” James huffed, flicking his tail over both toms’ noses.

“Clammask brings up a good point, despite her interruption,” Downstar sighed. “The queen’s name was Cinderella. We should refer to her as such. She may not have been a Clan cat, but we owe her enough respect to use her name.” Mousesong and Rustshade bowed slightly.

“Cinderella’s death is a tragedy,” Rustshade continued, “but she had no intention of joining RippleClan and had no romantic relationship with Shadowdrop. At the heart of the situation, this was not a break in the code, as I intend to show you today.”

“Very good,” Downstar said. “The inquisitor and defender will take turns calling their witnesses to give statements before the Clan. They will both ask questions of the witness and present appropriate evidence during each interview. The inquisitor will call her first witness.”

“I have many witnesses I plan to call today,” Mousesong declared, “such as Clammask, Waspkit, and Carnationspeckle. However, there is one witness that overshadows the rest in importance. I call to bear witness before RippleClan and StarClan… Cinderella.” RippleClan stared at Mousesong. No one dared speak up. Then Oilstripe slipped away from Carnationspeckle. Traditionally, witnesses were supposed to sit next to the deputy, but Oilstripe left a large space beteeen herself and Weedfoot.

“Mousesong, Oilstripe, explain this,” Downstar ordered.

“Not long after Clammask, Scrubmask, and Fennelspot returned to camp with news of Cinderella’s demise,” Mousesong explained, “Oilstripe began to see a new spirit wandering camp. We all know of her ghost sight, as verified by Fennelspot, so this in and of itself is not surprising. Yet this spirit lacked the same starry pelts as StarClan spirits and looked nothing like any cat Oilstripe knew of. This cat was Cinderella. She has agreed to answer questions with Oilstripe as an interpreter.”

“Objection!” Rustshade yowled. “Oilstripe has never reported seeing the spirit of a cat outside StarClan in the past. Even then, how can we trust that she’s reporting exactly what this spirit says?”

“Thank you for the trust, Dad,” Oilstripe muttered.

“We treat the testimony just like we would treat anyone else’s,” Mousesong explained. “I’m sure StarClan wouldn’t accept a perversion of their gift. If Oilstripe were to add her own words to the testimony, StarClan will likely inform Fennelspot.”

“Incredibly unorthodox,” Downstar muttered, “but I don’t know a time in living history when a Clan has been able to take a dead molly’s testimony. Oilstripe, do you swear to report only what the spirit of Cinderella tells you?”

“I do,” Oilstripe said, glancing overhead at her leader.

“Then begin your interview, inquisitor,” Downstar declared.

[Image ID: Mousesong speaks with Oilstripe. The ghost of a smoky black molly with a white collar stands next to Oilstripe. Oilstripe/Cinderella say “We had a deal. Bear kits with him, and he would teach me as much about Clan life as he could. Fire starting, cooking, crafting, everything.”]

Mousesong approached Oilstripe with a calculated gaze. She glanced at the empty spot beside her.

“I hope your afterlife is peaceful, Cinderella,” Mousesong said to the empty space. “I’m sure Rustshade will be questioning you on how you can exist when we thought Oilstripe only saw StarClan spirits. Do you have any answers for us?” Oilstripe’s ears tilted to the empty space. She was quiet for a while, listening to something no one else could hear.

“My mother told me that when I died, I would spend a year in the land I left behind, making sure my loved ones are safe before I move on,” Oilstripe said, although it would be more truthful to say that Cinderella said so. “This is just what I expected. Since I died, I thought it would be good to make sure my kits went to a good home.”

“Yes, your kits,” Rustshade huffed. He marched up beside Mousesong. His focus shifted between Oilstripe and where everyone presumed the spirit of Cinderella sat. “Kits you had with the young black tom behind me, am I correct?”

“She’s nodding,” Oilstripe reported.

“Is it true that you agreed to give the kits to RippleClan long before their birth?” Rustshade asked. Oilstripe squirmed as she waited for Cinderella’s response.

“I think you’ve made her nervous,” Oilstripe admitted, shifting closer to the Shiprock.

“This is a lot, isn’t it?” Mousesong sighed. “You find that you’ve died, you find a stranger who can see you, and you’re suddenly thrust into the ritual of a strange group. I can’t relate to being dead, but I understand feeling strange. I came to RippleClan when I was young. Everyone decided my fate for me. I imagine that’s a bit like what you’ve experienced as a loner, am I correct?” Oilstripe listened for a long time.

“Froggy told me about the Clans,” Oilstripe/Cinderella explained. “I didn’t want to live in one, but I liked what you could do. I thought if I could cook prey for my sister and I, it would be easier to live away from humans. I asked a few cats I saw near your borders, but none seemed interested in talking to me until I met Shadowdrop.”

“Yes, elaborate on your relationship with Shadowdrop,” Mousesong urged her on.

“We had a deal. Bear kits with him, and he would teach me as much about Clan life as he could. Fire starting, cooking, crafting, everything.”

“Did he tell you why he wanted to have kits?”

“He wanted a family.”

“Yes, a desire that the code has clear-cut provisions for!” Rustshade interrupted. “This only proves my argument, Downstar. Shadowdrop was not romantically involved with Cinderella, it was a deal as simple as the ones mollies make with strange sires.”

“That may be true,” Mousesong huffed, “but we have yet to get to the kitting itself. Can you take us through it, Cinderella?” Shadowdrop shifted closer to Wildclaw.

“When I felt the kits coming, I went to RippleClan,” Oilstripe translated for Cinderella. “Shadowdrop told me about all the medicines in the Clans, so I thought we would have the kits there. We met up nearly every day, so I knew where to wait for him. When he saw me, he told me to stay strong and went to fetch help.”

“He brought back Wildclaw, yes?” Mousesong clarified. 

“My memory blurs a bit when they get back. I was focused on my kitting. The first two kits came out right, but after the third kit, I felt different. I think there was an issue. It was hard to describe. What I remember is that not long after I cleaned up the third kit, Shadowdrop and his guest left with the kits. I was alone. I wasn’t sure what to do. I headed for home, but I suppose I never made it back.”

“It may be an odd testimony, but members of RippleClan, you’ve heard it from the victim,” Mousesong declared, facing the crowd. “Shadowdrop and Wildclaw left Cinderella behind, in pain, without her kits. Fennelspot could have saved her, but she never got the chance. How can we say this is a simple case of siring when they left Cinderella to die and tried to forget she ever existed?”

“I want to go back to how you said your memory blurs,” Rustshade huffed. “If you don’t remember much, how can we trust that what you do remember is correct?”

“Shadowdrop showed up with three black kits, didn’t he?” As Oilstripe repeated what only she could hear, she glared at Shadowdrop. Another pair of eyes stared at the black tom too, but they were invisible to nearly everyone. Shadowdrop felt the glare of both mollies.

Shadowdrop and Wildclaw are found guilty. Shadowdrop is demoted to a warrior and must spend the next half moon in exile. Wildclaw will be on nursery duty until the litter is apprenticed (a task she hates).

[Image ID: Shadowdrop and Wildclaw listen to their sentences.]

There were quite a few more witnesses after Cinderella (Waspkit, Clammask, Carnationspeckle, even Oilstripe came back as her own witness) but none could match hers in terms of strangeness. It seemed every interview looped back to what the unseen spirit had said. More than a few cats stepped out of camp to debate whether the loner’s ghost was actually there or if Oilstripe was lying to get Shadowdrop in trouble. Regardless of the truth, Mousesong dug into the statement like prey with every argument she crafted.

Rustshade, oddly enough, only called Wildclaw as a witness. She didn’t have much to add; her brother asked for her help, of course she helped. Shadowdrop, however, stayed where he was, studying his Clanmates, itching at his ceremonial collar.

Downstar took a while to make a decision. She called many members of RippleClan into her den to hear their opinions on the matter like any informed leader would. Despite it all, the wait was like a blanket of fleas crawling across the pelt of RippleClan. Shadowdrop and Wildclaw waited with Rustshade in the center of camp the entire time. While Wildclaw kept pestering Rustshade about what would happen next, Shadowdrop stared at the nursery, where his three squirmy kits slept in the darkness.

Downstar left her den shortly before sunset. Conversations died away and curious eyes watched Downstar climb onto the Shiprock. Shadowdrop sat up and nudged his sister. Weedfoot hurried out of the nursery and took her place below Downstar.

“I have come to my decision,” Downstar announced, studying her kits. “Before I pass my judgment, however, there’s someone we still haven’t heard from today. Shadowdrop?” Shadowdrop met his mother’s eye. “Wildclaw may share your charges, but in essence, you are the one on trial here. You’ve barely spoken today. I need to hear this from you. Tell us the truth, Shadowdrop. Please.” Shadowdrop stood, shaking the sand off his paws.

“I wanted a family, Mom,” Shadowdrop said. “I went about it the only way I could. If I couldn’t have them with Carnationspeckle, I would have them with someone else. I hid the truth at first because I knew people would make the wrong conclusions. I can be a great father. I’ll raise these kits to be model RippleClan cats.” Wildclaw poked Shadowdrop before he could say more. Over by the warrior’s den, Clammask and Oilstripe bristled. 

“Shadowdrop…” Downstar sighed. Her weary eyes washed over the Clan. “There were other ways to start a family. The way you’ve gone about it was irresponsible and selfish. What if Carnationspeckle wasn’t here to nurse your kits? Or did you sire them knowing she would?”

“That’s not what he wanted, Mom,” Wildclaw growled, stepping closer with unsheathed paws.

“Wildclaw, you don’t know what he wanted,” Downstar snapped. “You followed him out into the territory and didn’t ask questions. You don’t think these things through, Wildclaw, and it shows.” Wildclaw froze. She sat back beside Shadowdrop. Downstar sighed deeply, a shiver running down her pelt. As she relaxed, she sat taller and glared down at Shadowdrop and Wildclaw.

“Warriors of StarClan, may my words and my actions today honor your sacred code and protect RippleClan. Shadowdrop, Wildclaw, I find you guilty of endangering a queen and her kits. Your act of siring may be protected by the code, but you left a struggling mother to die and took away her kits. No matter what deal you may have made, you were cruel. All you cared about was having kits that you could watch Carnationspeckle nurse.”

“That’s not true!” Shadowdrop yowled. “I… I was…” Shadowdrop’s eyes bounced in his skull, searching for answers he couldn’t find.

“Shadowdrop, your attempt to sneak around the Code of Queens and Kits shows me that you cannot be trusted to guard the code in the future,” Downstar said. Her tone was still and steady. “Upon your return, you will no longer be a codekeeper, but a warrior assigned to whatever tasks your Clan needs.”

“Mom…” Shadowdrop gulped.

“When he returns?” Wildclaw snapped. “What does that mean?”

“Cinderella agreed to your deal in order to learn our skills and better survive as a loner,” Downstar explained. “You showed no compassion for her, and so should get a glimpse of what she may have experienced. For the next half moon, you will live in exile. You will not be allowed in RippleClan territory and must care for yourself like Cinderella did.” Shadowdrop stared up at Downstar. He kept still, but his jaw quivered and the tip of his tail twitched wildly. “In other circumstances, this could have been a permanent exile, Shadowdrop. Reflect on that. Mousesong, escort Shadowdrop out of RippleClan territory.” 

Rustshade gently helped Shadowdrop out of his ceremonial collar. Shadowdrop’s scared gaze tore into the nursery as Mousesong nudged him back. RippleClan parted as Mousesong shoved Shadowdrop out of camp. Halibutdusk looked at his paws as his brother passed. Downstar couldn’t look away.

“Wildclaw,” she finally said after a long, pain-soaked minute. “You could have helped Cinderella, but you didn’t. I believe you have perspectives on Clan life that need to be corrected. As such, until Shadowdrop’s litter is apprenticed, you will be on nursery duty. You will not be allowed on any other patrols and will care for the kits’ every need.”

“I don’t need to be in the nursery all day!” Wildclaw groaned. 

“You do and you will, Wildclaw!” Downstar yowled. “There will be no bargaining. Your punishment is set. May StarClan forgive you both. This trial is over.” Downstar soared off the Shiprock and sulked into her den. Halibutdusk was the first of the Clan to step out of the crowd. He headed for his mother’s den. Wildclaw struggled and pulled at her collar. Rattlepelt had to pull her paw away and help her before she broke the leather. Oilstripe hurried to the nursery, Weedfoot’s kits slipped around her to find their mother, and the Clan carefully broke into heated whispers.

With that, RippleClan’s first trial was finally over.

(Downstar: 98, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Weedfoot: 87, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(Mousesong: 15, female, codekeeper, loyal, keen eye)

(Rustshade: 83, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Wildclaw: 31, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor)

(Shadowdrop: 31, male, warrior, sneaky, good teacher, eloquent speaker)

(Clammask: 33, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)

(Lavenderkit: 5, male, kit, noisy, likes to sing)

(James: 115, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Oilstripe: 43, female, historian, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Halibutdusk: 31, male, warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

[skyscratch-wc]

Family tree for one of Shadowclan’s most important families. I realized while drawing this that every Shadowclan leader from Raggedstar forward (except for Nightstar and Tigerstar 1) can be connected to this family

[junoswarriorcatsdesigns]

Lavenderkit

[gingerakao]

Scorchwind-Darkflower family tree

| Masterpost |

| Featherstorm-Hal family tree |

| Rowanclaw-Tawnypelt family tree |

[marmotclaw]

Lavenderkit

Warrior name: Lavenderheart

Name meaning: relaxed, strong beliefs

Grey molly

Cause of death: Carrionplace disease

Family

Mother: Darkflower

Father: Scorchbreeze

Brothers: Cedarheart, Rowanclaw

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

Missing Kits, Part 2/?

Part 1

Dragonflykit - Greenflower's son, now surviving greencough. Dragonflypaw is mentored by Grasswhisker, and becomes Dragonflynose. However, between Firestar's Quest and Midnight, before the Forest starts getting ripped up, Dragonflynose slips off to the Moonstone and transitions, becoming Dragonflywing! She looks a lot like her mom.

Duckkit - Now a dark tortoiseshell molly with a small tail, Duckkit does still pass, but Greenflower is seen getting reassurance from Mudfur that he saw her in Starclan, running around with a moss ball.

Featherkit - Now Dappletail and Stormpelt's son. His death is now retconned. He was deaf, yes, but he wasn't a strong kit to begin with. He passed from fading kitten syndrome, but had a nice life before that, and was starting to get interested in herbs.

Cricketkit - A blue-gray tom like Bluestar, but with yellow eyes. He was apprenticed to Russetmoth, Willowpelt's father, and named Cricketfang. He is mates with Longtail's sister, Heatherwish, and now the father of Cinderpelt and Brackenfur.

Sol's siblings are brought up but they're for another post, as are Cloudtail's and Firestar's.

Quietkit - Now a dark brown tabby molly with brilliant blue eyes. She has made it through her sickness! Her mother has been renamed from Ashheart to Gravelheart. She is currently apprenticed to Russetfur. I have bumped her up to have been born a few moons before ITW, but she should NOT be an apprentice right now, this is much too early. Thankfully, Russetfur is good to her. Her warrior name will be Quietfeather.

Her siblings are under the cut!

Turtlekit - Now a dilute tortoiseshell molly with one green eye and one yellow eye, Turtlekit is Gravelheart's second born child, and is currently apprenticed to Blackfoot. She is also too young for this. Her warrior name will be Turtlesong.

Rubblekit - Another rare prefix, a lot of these kits gave prefixes never seen before. Now he is a small gray tabby tom with (as a reference to his wiki sprite) bright green eyes! He is illegally apprenticed to Nettlespot, who thankfully acts tough but is very gentle with him. His warrior name will be Rubblefang.

Cherrypaw - Originally Robinwing and Fuzzypelt from long ago, appearing in Spottedleaf's Honest Answer. Well Robinfuzzy is getting destroyed and SHA no longer exists, so Cherrypaw is getting moved away from that and is now bulky ginger and white molly with amber eyes, and a child of Grayflower (OC) with her littermates Dustpelt and Ravenpaw. She was made a warrior early due to fighting off a boar! Her mentor was Frostfur and her name is Cherryshine.

Chestnutkit - He was bumped down to be Frostfur's littermate as Brindleface is no longer her sister, he was mentored by Snowfur, and he is also now a skinny pale brown tabby tom with a white chest and blue eyes named Chestnutwing. He will mentor Elderpaw after Russetmoth dies.

Lavenderkit - Now a rose-cream mollynwith deep blue eyes, Lavenderkit survives her illness and is apprenticed to Volewhisper. She becomes Lavenderpool, and is mates with Blossomclaw.

Smokepaw - Nightwing's boy, the apprentice that falls. He is a HUGE part of The New Prophecy! A main character now! He will still fall, but find his way home, and he is featured in WCR!Graystripe's Adventure, found by Graystripe and Cody. His name will be Smokeheart.

Talonpaw - Now pale gray with large white feet, the attack from the kittypets nearly killed him, and he collapsed unconscious when he dragged himself back to camp. He would lay in effectively a comatose state, being given a Dying Warrior Ceremony from Blackstar. He woke up during the end of Sunset, and was shocked to hear cheers of his new name: Talonshine.

Nightwhisper - Nightwhisper would not become Darkflower's mate, but instead brought his young daughter to be nursed by Queens who could help. Kinkfur was that kit. She is, for all intents and purposes, half Bloodclan.

Pouncetail - To avoid same names, this man had been not only hit with the Gender Beam, but also a cool new name. Meet Muntjactail! Now has an itty-bitty tail, a lighter chest and belly. She is mates with Stoatrunner (1 half of Stoatfur, who is now split into 2 cats) and is the mother of Beenose!

Since Wolfstep is dead, the lean tabby tom and tortoiseshell queen with 2 kits are now Rubblefang, and his sister Turtlesong. He is giving her loving support. Wetfoot has just died, he was the father of her kits. Ivykit (Ivytail) and Whitekit (Whitewater).

Crowfrost - Dawncloud now gets together with Picklewish (OC, kinda. One of the names from the Fan Vote that Wafflepaw won. He joins Shadowclan during the Journey) and has Crowfrost. He will also be surviving AVOS! She also has them a little bit later than canon.

Spiderfoot - Crowfrost's brother, a cowardly little guy who leaves to become a kittypet. His kittypet name is Socko, and he is loved.

Swallowtail - Now a skinny gray-cream molly with darker legs and amber eyes. Born to Vixenleap and a posthumous Swancall a few weeks after the Battle for Bloodclan, Swallowtail may look like a Windclan cat, but she is a shining star in Riverclan. She even earned her name early and was trusted with an apprentice before anyone else! She has secret kits with Rainwhisker!

Wait, what?

Pebblefoot - Now a mottled pale brown tom with bright green eyes and small paws, Pebblefoot is an alright enough guy. He had a bit of a celebrity crush on Ashfoot when he was young. His mentor is no longer Mosspelt, but now Heavystep, who is no longer an early elder. He gives the next Riverclan Leader a life after his death during The Hopeless Storm.

Minnowtail - Oh, I have BIG plans for this girl, should all go well with ASC. That's far away for now, but just know that us Mouse x Minnow fans are EATING.

Tumblekit - Now a chubby little boy. I am deeply sorry for anyone who likes this little guy and wanted him to live. He was never meant to survive. I tried to think of how I could spin him, but his death is a Canon Event for Minnowtail.

Mallowtail and Grasswhisker - Grasswhisker is now a trans tom who might later realize they're actually a tolly! That isn't set in stone, but what is is this relationship! But, since he and Mallowtail cannot have kits of biologically, they get help from a sire. Who, you ask? Well that's private! (a loner) after Mallowtail gives birth, they are shocked to see that one of their kits, Beechkit, looks VERY much like Grasswhisker! The other is Rippletail. Mates of Gorsetail and Petalfur.

[bearsplash]

duckshines FIRST litter <3

[runningwindenjoyer]

Oh lawd they runnin

[ashestosparks]

The last image I was able to draw before my laptop crapped out, then I got a different laptop, that one died, got another, it’s out of stock-

But either way I’m pretty happy with it

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Naming Ceremony (short story)

Alderstar lay upon the fattest low hanging-branch of an alder tree, though one would be forgiven for not being able to properly identify it with every leaf blackened and scattered upon the ground. Grousemane had suggested the location for his ceremonies and meetings long ago–it was easy to remember. Alderstar would be found at the alder tree. Not to mention its height, standing out among the other massive trees, was useful in finding the place. It was helpful, too, that it was in eye-view of the Eye-Out Thorns, though far enough for the more faint-hearted to feel comfortable.

Once everyone was gathered, he rose and spoke loudly across the small space. “Welcome, kin and friends.” So many ceremonies like this had passed that he had forgotten what words would have been spoken when he was alive and the leader of Shadowclan. Something about their warrior ancestors, he’s sure. But those were taught to him by his father and the leaders before them. These are his own words. Every leader who gives names gives them with their own words.

Alderstar had even gotten into a routine, too. Or perhaps it is better to call it a tradition. Because he no longer lived in a Clan and was much less likely to know the traits that some cats had, parents who planned to have him do the naming would inform him. Sometimes when they were about to become ‘paws, sometimes when they were kits or even expecting. 

Alderstar would then occasionally watch the kits train, observe them. He would take time to speak one-on-one with the parents, mentor, and the kit themself. It was a good way to pass the time. He found he greatly enjoyed having something to do, too he greatly enjoyed thinking up warrior names, and he was satisfied with the ones he picked out for this batch.

“Today, we honour six apprentices, who defied their fate long ago. Had the Stars had their way, they would have remained small and defenseless.” The faces of several of the apprentices–namely Smallpaw–snarled at the idea. “We are not the Stars,” Alderstar said with pride, his chin lifted and chest puffed out. The families and mentors in the crowd purred in agreement. “We defied them, we defied the logics of death, and we grew. Now, we shall honour the growth, the strength, and the courage in these six young cats, now ready to become full warriors of the Place of No Stars.”

Yowls of excitement rang around the clearing. Alderstar waited patiently for them to calm down before going on. He had plenty of time. “Antpaw, step forward.”

Antpaw did as told, his steps shaky and his eyes round. “For your resistance against fate, and your heedful nature, you shall from this day forth be known as Antgrove.” 

He was happy to see Antgrove’s worry-edged smile quickly shift to one of delight as he dipped his head, and moved to the front of the crowd. All names had to have meaning, that was Alderstar’s rule. Antgrove loved to explore groves. It was where he was the most comfortable, where he felt the most peace. Alderstar had hoped that by giving him the name, he was hearing that his introverted nature was not only being noticed, but celebrated. Judging by the look on his face, it had been heard.

“Smallpaw, step forward.” 

Smallpaw’s reaction was much different. His body was tense, clearly it took a lot for him to pad forward gracefully and not simply race to the open space in which he would stand.

“For your resistance against fate, and your fierce bites, both real and metaphorical, you shall from this day forth be known as Smallclaw.”

Smallclaw’s smirk was broad. He took a moment to bask in the attention before he dipped his head and padded to sit beside who might have once been his brother. Alderstar wasn’t sure, all he knew was that the kits separated because of the different views they had on their deaths and crime.

“Hootpaw, step forward.” Alderstar had to hold back a smile as the name reminded him of his lovely mate. He was definitely going to nuzzle her and Myrtlewing once this ceremony was over. 

Hootpaw padded forward patiently. His ears were pricked and he looked up at Alderstar with interest and patience. Alderstar had wondered a long time how to convey THAT in a name.  “For your resistance against fate, and your ability to follow the wind so long as you see fit, you shall be known as Hootbloom.” Hootbloom’s eyes shone with a hint of pleasure, and something more beneath that.

It was good. Flowers bloom at different paces, some slow, some fast, but they all open up in the end. The same went for the kit. He had patience that astonished Alderstar, but the patience was for himself–he only felt it because time mattered only to him. He was slow and easy when he wanted to be, and fast as a frog’s tongue when he wanted to be. He bloomed when he wanted to bloom, it was no one else’s choice. This name was a way to announce it.

“Cinderpaw, step forward.”

Cinderpaw raced to the spot before Alderstar had finished the final word, her eyes wide and bright, and her fur dusty from the run. Kiteburn huffed in irritation where he sat with his and Cinderpaw’s family.

“For your resistance against fate, and your ability to see the heart in everyone, even when cold ice surrounds it, you shall, from this day forward, be known as Cinderrose.” The colours differed in meaning. Alderstar imagined the pink and white ones, happiness and innocence. Those were the two words that always sprang to mind whenever he thought of Cinderrose. She was an eager young cat, always ready to learn and make new friends. Even then, he could see the trauma that she was pushing away. He didn’t want to make her think about it now, or anytime she heard her name, so he stuck with the positives. Perhaps she could find help or figure out how to accept her past now that she didn’t have so much time taken up by training.

“Flarepaw, step forward,” Alderstar continued once Cinderrose was seated beside Antgrove, Smallclaw, and Hootbloom.

Flarepaw was slower. He didn’t look afraid, more curious, like he was still shocked that he could really be receiving his warrior ceremony even though he had died as a kit. Alderstar gave him a reassuring smile. “For your resistance against fate, and the justice that burns like fire in your paws, you shall, from this day forth, be known as Flarelight.” It was a double-name, what flares brings light, but Flarelight does in two ways as well. He brightens the space wherever he is, making jokes and always making sure that everyone is as comfortable as can be. As well, he never looks away when he notices that someone is being mistreated, even by a single whisker. He sheds light on the situation until it is solved.

Flarelight’s whiskers quivered in delight. He took a moment to grin at his father, Cricketclaw, before joining the line.

“Lavenderpaw, step forward.”

Lavenderpaw was not slow nor fast, she moved at an even pace, though stumbled a few times as she was unable to remove her gaping gaze from Alderstar in the tree above her. “For your resistance against fate, your way of hearing sorrows and spreading joy, you shall from this day forth be known as Lavenderspring.” It was another name with two meanings, one indicating the spring Lavenderspring always tried to bring to everyone’s steps, and in symbolism to the body of water, gentle and comfortable, which she always tried to be to those who needed it.

There was one more part of the ceremony that had to be done. He leaped from the branch and padded toward Antgrove. “Are you ready?” He asked.

Antgrove’s voice quivered. “Yes. I would like it by my tail.”

“Stand.”

Antgrove did as told. He sucked in a breath, and Alderstar laid a claw across his skin. He dragged it down deep enough to last, but not enough to cause serious damage. Then he laid another, smaller mark beside and just across it. “You are a true warrior now,” Alderstar told him. He repeated the markings onto the other newly-named warriors on areas of their choosing, before backing up and addressing the crowd once more. “Let us call out their names, and tell the Stars they have no strength here.!”

“Lavenderspring!”

“Antgrove!”

“Smallclaw!”

“Flarelight!”

“Hootbloom!”

“Cinderrose!”

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

I will be explaining how the kits differed when the grew, and this claw ceremony thing! Basically really, it’s different leaders conducting ceremonies mark cats they named. I figured in the Dark Forest, that wouldn’t be frowned upon at all. Alder’s marking is like a branch with a thorn on it.

@frightnightindustries

@wills-woodland-warriors

[rosemist50]

Su Susann cats here we go. Elderkit and Tulipkit would also be in here, but I did them a good while back already, so I'm not putting them here again.Just put 'supposedly' in front of every claim after this point lmaoFirst is Lynxkit, Swiftpaw's sibling, and Lavenderkit, Rowanstar and Cedarheart's. Then is Cherrypaw and Chestnutkit, first litter of Robinwing and Fuzzypelt, and Featherkit and Cricketkit, Dappletail's kits. Storkkit and Quailkit, Gorsepaw's siblings, are next, followed by Turtlekit, Quietkit, and Rubblekit, Ashheart and Cinderfur's kits. Cranberrypaw is Thistlepaw (from like two posts back) and Gorsetail's sibling, and Skunkpaw appears during Goosefeather's Curse, the black and white apprentice that tells Goosekit where the other kits are hiding during a hide-and-seek game. And then Drizzlepaw and Rustlepaw were supposed to be another litter from Onestar and Whitetail (along with Willowclaw and Emberfoot lmao), but they are like Su Susann cats squared now, completely Thanos-snapped out of the narrative. Basically these two in particular really don't exist. So why'd I draw them? Idk, I just want to be as through as possible.

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 35

Shadowdrop made Carnationspeckle laugh again and again.

[Image ID: Shadowdrop talks with Carnationspeckle. Rattlepelt watches from afar. Under Rattlepelt, it says LEVEL UP! PREY CLEANER -> LEATHER ARTIST.

(Rattlepelt: 18, female, artisan, fierce, leather artist)

(Shadowdrop: 27, male, codekeeper, sneaky, eloquent speaker, good teacher)

(Carnationspeckle: 37, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

Downstar calls for a Clan meeting and declares Mousepaw to be a codekeeper. She is now called Mousesong.

[Image ID: Mousepaw, now Mousesong, faces Rattlepelt. Mousesong says “Thanks, I suppose.” Under Mousesong, it says LEVEL UP! MOUSEPAW -> MOUSESONG, ODDLY OBSERVANT -> KEEN EYE.)

---

Rattlepelt wanted to start a new tradition in the warrior’s den. Rabbitjoy was all for helping her collect the needed materials, so all the pair had to do was wake up early and prepare. It gave Rattlepelt something else to think about other than Shadowdrop.

It wasn’t that Rattlepelt disliked him. He was a fine codekeeper and helped Rattlepelt improve some recipes on occasion. But he was not the right fit for Carnationspeckle. Carnationspeckle was selfless, kind, talented, and understanding. Shadowdrop simply wasn’t. Carnationspeckle assured Rattlepelt that she was just friends with Shadowdrop, and while Rattlepelt believed her mother, she didn’t think Shadowdrop felt the same. That, combined with her sister’s codekeeper ceremony the night before, made it hard for Rattlepelt to sleep. So, she worked.

“I don’t think she’ll like it,” Rabbitjoy muttered as dawn rose. The brown molly plucked down from between her claws. She and Rattlepelt sat outside the warrior’s den. Their Clanmates walked around them

“We might as well see,” Rattlepelt sighed just as the newly named Mousesong entered camp. The name did not fit the way the white molly held her head high and walked through camp without a glance at anyone else. Rattlepelt swallowed hard as Mousesong trudged to the warrior’s den.

“Mousesong!” Rattlepelt called as the newly named codekeeper approached. “Congratulations on your ceremony.”

“Thanks,” Mousesong muttered. “Where can I sleep?”

“That’s what we wanted to show you,” Rabbitjoy explained. She slipped behind Rattlepelt and into the den. She stopped beside Mousesong’s new nest. There was an odd, furry lump sitting in the nest. It was made of mouse pelts, held together with twine. Mousesong pawed the bundle and it squished under the pressure. It fluffed back up when she moved her paw.

“What is this?” Mousesong asked.

“Something we invented,” Rattlepelt chirped. “I tanned some mouse leather and Rabbitjoy tied them together. We stuffed down and moss in between the two. You can lay your head on it, and it’s like resting on someone’s side. I picked mouse pelts since I know you like mice.” Mousesong crawled into her new nest and slowly put her head on the fluff-ball. “I’m hoping we can make little gifts like these for new graduates in the future.”

“Why?” Mousesong huffed, lifting her head.

“Because it shows that we appreciate everything you’ve done,” Rattlepelt insisted. Mousesong eyed both Rattlepelt and Rabbitjoy. Rabbitjoy squirmed under Mousesong’s cold eyes, but Rattlepelt stood firm.

“Thanks, I suppose,” Mousesong muttered. “You didn’t have to do that. Either of you.” She laid back down and said, “I’ll catch something good for you both after I sleep.”

“That’s a promise,” Rattlepelt chirped. “We’ll let you rest. Sweet dreams, Mousesong!” Mousesong stared at her the whole way out of the warrior’s den. Rabbitjoy glanced back a dozen times as she and Rattlepelt made their way to the “artisan’s corner” of camp, where they had their tanning rack and other crafting tools set up.

“I can’t tell if she liked the fluff-ball,” Rabbitjoy sighed. “I’m impressed she didn’t rip into you.”

“She cares, even if she doesn’t admit it,” Rattlepelt said. “I know she does. It scares her, that’s all.”

“You show her more grace than I can,” Rabbitjoy said, shaking her head with a soft chuckle.

“She’s my sister,” Rattlepelt huffed. “Of course I do.”

(Rattlepelt: 18, female, artisan, fierce, leather artist)

(Rabbitjoy: 72, female, artisan, charismatic, master weaver)

(Mousesong: 12, female, codekeeper, loyal, keen eye)

Palekit found a hole in the rocks and, curious as all kits are, stuck her paw inside. The whole camp comes running when she screeches in pain. It seems a snake was living in that hole.

[Image ID: Weedfoot, Fennelspot, and Scrubmask run toward Palekit, who is screaming “Momma!” Under Palekit, it says + NEW SKILL: PICKY NEST BUILDER. + CONDITION: SNAKE BITE,]

---

Palekit’s scream stirred a sleeping fear in Weedfoot that she thought had long since faded.

She had been sharing stew with Fennelspot and Scrubmask, admiring the petals the former now kept tucked into his white patch. Clammask was on nursery duty, and Weedfoot could hear her children’s giggles from the other side of camp. There shouldn’t have been a reason to be on edge. And yet, as Weedfoot dipped her muzzle into the bowl for another sip of soup, a kitten’s wail pierced the peace hovering over camp.

Weedfoot was running before she even processed what she saw. Palekit, whose eyes were shifting to match her father and whose strong legs had been the first of her litter to walk, now cradled one leg close as a slick black snake stuck its head out of a hole in the rocks.

“Momma!” Palekit wept. Fear-scent flooded her tiny body as she stared at the snake. Even with Weedfoot’s head start, Fennelspot was faster. He snatched Palekit by the scruff and dragged her away from the snake. Carnationspeckle had been sharing tongues with Downstar and bolted out of the leader’s den at the little kit’s cry. The young caretaker spotted the snake and pounced. Her fangs sunk into the snake’s neck. She shook the snake wildly and flung it over the rocks and out of camp.

“Palekit, when did you leave the den?” Clammask hurried out of the nursery. Weedfoot’s four other children lingered behind her. Poor Weedfoot’s attention was solely focused on her oldest daughter, who shook as she wailed. 

“Momma’s here, Palekit,” Weedfoot cooed as Fennelspot examined the bite on Palekit’s leg.

“What do you need?” Downstar barked, already running for the medicine den.

“It’s not venomous!” Fennelspot yowled, waving Downstar off. “The bite is not venomous.”

“How do you know?” Scrubmask asked as the rest of RippleClan gathered around Fennelspot and Weedfoot.

“Do you see how the bite wound forms an arch?” Fennelspot explained as Weedfoot groomed Palekit’s head. “That means the snake does not have venom. I believe it was a black ratsnake. They can hurt, but they aren’t deadly.”

“Is she okay?” Downstar huffed, glaring at Fennelspot with more fire in her eyes than Weedfoot had seen in moons.

“She will be,” Fennelspot promised. “We just need to clean the bite and make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“I want my dad,” Palekit cried, burying her little face in her mother’s fur.

“Has anyone seen James today?” Scrubmask called to the crowd.

“He took a walk with Parsley and Rustshade,” Carnationspeckle said, spitting snake blood out of her mouth. “I can find them.”

“Go,” Downstar huffed, nodding. Carnationspeckle looped around the crowd and jogged out of camp.

“I don’t like this,” Palekit moaned.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Weedfoot promised, picking Palekit up by the scruff. As she did so, her head swam. She steadied her paws and shoved the dizziness back. She may have still been weak from the difficult birth, but stars-damn it, she was going to carry her daughter to the medicine den.

[Image ID: Waspkit, Lavenderkit, Ripplekit, and Puddlekit hog the screen. Under Ripplekit, it says + NEW SKILLS: AVID PLAY-FIGHTER, SPLASHES IN PUDDLES. Under Puddlekit, it says + NEW SKILL: MORBID CURIOSITY. Under Lavenderkit, it says + NEW SKILL: LOVES TO SING. Under Waspkit, it says + NEW SKILL: INTERESTED IN CLAN HISTORY.]

As Weedfoot and Fennelspot brought Palekit into the medicine den, four pairs of blue-tinted eyes watched them from the nursery. Clammask stood in front of them with her tail running over each of their little backs.

“Did any of you notice Palekit leave the nursery?” Clammask sighed, turning back to the kits.

“She was playing with Puddlekit,” Waspkit immediately said, pointing his tail at his younger brother.

“I didn’t think we had to stay in the nursery,” Puddlekit whined. Without his white blaze and deep blue eyes, he would look just like his injured sister, albeit a bit more pathetic (in Waspkit’s eyes at least).

“Puddlekit is in trouble,” Lavenderkit sang, trotting around Puddlekit. “Puddlekit is in trouble!”

“No he isn’t!” Ripplekit whined, smacking her white-splashed brother’s flank. “It’s no one’s fault!”

“Ripplekit is right,” Clammask added. “This was a bad accident. The snake could have bitten anyone. If anything, I’m to blame for not keeping an eye on your sister.”

“Clammask is in trouble, Clammask is in trouble,” Lavenderkit sang, throwing himself on Clammask’s leg.

“I’m going to sit outside,” Clammask sighed, gently shoving Lavenderkit off. “Keep yourselves entertained, you four.” She stepped off the leather floor and onto the warm sand. She laid across the entrance, trapping the four remaining kits inside the nursery.

“Listen!” Waspkit yowled. He waved his tail wildly to catch his littermates’ attention. “Palekit’s hurt! No more getting hurt, everyone.”

“I promise,” Puddlekit said quietly.

“I’ll do what I want!” Lavenderkit huffed. He launched himself on his front paws, but his headstand attempt proved futile. He tumbled forward and his flank landed right in Waspkit’s face. Waspkit growled and launched into a full assault on his brother. Ripplekit squealed and joined the fight. Puddlekit watched from the sidelines. 

Unbeknownst to any of the small kits, their laughter warmed the frigid air suffocating the camp.

(Weedfoot: 84, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(Fennelspot: 92, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Scrubmask: 52, female, warrior, gloomy, fast runner, good hunter)

(Palekit: 1, female, kit, impulsive, picky nest builder)

(Carnationspeckle: 37, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Clammask: 29, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)

(Downstar: 93, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Waspkit: 1, male, kit, bossy, interested in clan history)

(Puddlekit: 1, male, kit, polite, morbid curiosity)

(Lavenderkit: 1, male, kit, noisy, likes to sing)

(Ripplekit: 1, female, kit, know-it-all, avid play-fighter, splashes in puddles)

[stillreadingwarriors]

Darkflower and Lavenderkit

Originally posted on August 16th, 2022

(868, 869)

[leafpoolstanblog]

ShadowClan-R2-Y2-GL

Turtlepaw and Rubblepaw are apprenticed to Flintfang and Nutwhisker.

A coup happens, and Brokenstar is overthrown & killed. Blackstar elects Cinderfur as deputy.

Marigoldflame, Mintberry, and Lavenderkit die.

[stus-warrior-designs]

Rowanclaw’s dead sister

[rotten-artist]

Littlecloud • Rowanclaw/star

Wetfoot • Cedarheart

Brownpaw • Lavenderkit