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runningmask · 5 years

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10% left AU

So, i rolled for the 10% AU.

Thunderclan Survivors: Purdy, Daisy, Brightheart, Lilykit, Foxleap, Berrynose

Shadowclan Survivors: Grasskit, Stoatpaw, Tigerheart

Windclan Survivors: Sunstrike

Riverclan Survivors: Mistystar, Mothwing, Curlpaw, Perchkit

Missing: Briarlight, Krestleflight

Now, with this, i have a lot of ideas!

1) The Survivors split off to their own clans post-battle, more preoccupied with buring and mourning their dead.

Sunstrike was alone, and lost her right leg while defending the bodies. She managed to bury them, and made her way to Riverclan afterwards.

2) Mothwing and Mistystar are insanely protective of Curlpaw and Perchkit, and wen Sunstrike joins them, Mothwing is quick to try and treat her amputated leg, and the group ends up going to check on the other clans, in hope that they weren’t slaughtered.

3) Tigerheart is rather agressive, seeing Daisy while he’s out with Grasskit and Stoatpaw and immediately threatening her. He only stops after learning that she’s out looking for Briarlight and Seedkit. They end up confessing that both of their clans have been slaughtered, and the SC trio follow Daisy to the Thunderclan camp.

4) Brightheart is leading them, while taking care of Likykit and desperately trying to hold things together. She lables Berrynose her deputy, and attempts to return things to some sense of normalcy.

5) The Riverclan cats arrive at just the right time, because Foxleap got sick, and Brightheart ha only the bare minimum of medical training.

6) They all stick together, in a weird way. And in this AU, i think they find their way to the church cats. Now, is this just an excuse for me to draw the Survivors with the church cats? Yes, but also i think that everyone would end up.. getting comfortable there.

7) Relationships? They’re all pretty close, and Curlpaw and Perchkit think of Moth and Misty as their mothers. Tigerheart is like Grasskit’s big brother, and i think that Foxleap and Sunstrike end up together.

8) Most of them keep their names, but Grasskit, Perchkit, and Curlpaw change their names to Grass, Perch, and Curly, as those were their nicknames. Stoatpaw gained his warrior name, becoming Stoatfur like in canon.

9) about six moons later, Briarlight and Krestleflight were still ‘missing’, and after getting suggestions to find this group from some cats they were traveling with, they found the church. Sunstrike is so excited about them, and introduces them both to her and Foxleap’s kits, Thunder and Wind.

10) Overall, they’re happy. They miss being in a clan, and some of the cats start getting interested in their traditions, and some start asking to be trained. A lot of culture sharing happens, and they basically attend group therapy, and slowly work through everything.

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wildheart-warriors · 7 years

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Timelines: Chapter Five

“So we split up the daytime patrols into three, most of the time, since no one wants to be awake very long during the day,” Fuzzypelt mewed.

The six cats were on their paws again, heading towards the river now that sunhigh had passed. They were all a little more energetic now.

“What about invasions? If we do less patrols at night, why don’t we get attacked then?” Stonepaw asked.

“Well, we do; cats break the rules regardless of the time,” Goldenflower replied. “We do more patrols during the day to try and ward them off when most of us are sleeping, and since most cats are out and about at night anyways, that makes it more difficult for anyone to sneak in anywhere.”

“So if the other clans do the same thing, when’s the best time for us to attack them?” Mistypaw cut in.

“We usually don’t do the invading,” Fuzzypelt sighed. “Crossing the thunderpath to get to Shadowclan is extremely dangerous, and the only way to get to Riverclan safely is the stepping stones, which doesn’t exactly give us a tactical advantage.”

“You sound like you’re mourning battles we never got to fight,” Whitestorm teased.

Fuzzypelt shrugged, grinning. “Hey, maybe if we did a little more fighting in my apprentice days I’d be called Fuzzyclaw instead.”

“Good thing you didn’t. ‘Fuzzyclaw’ doesn’t have a good ring,” Goldenflower snorted.

“Hey, ‘Fuzzy-’ anything doesn’t sound warrior-esque,” Fuzzypelt countered. “My mother didn’t make a great choice there.”

“What else would she have called you, with fur like that?” Whitestorm chuckled.

“Curlkit? Twistkit? Kinkkit?” Goldenflower suggested. Fuzzypelt nodded along.

“Kinkpelt sounds better than Fuzzypelt,” he agreed. “Maybe Curlfur, or Twistfang.”

“Can’t you ask Sunstar to change it, if you don’t like it?” Mosspaw piped up. Fuzzypelt sighed wistfully.

“I suppose I could. But it doesn’t really bother me,” he replied.

“I like ‘Stone-’,” Stonepaw added. “Stoneclaw would be a great warrior name!”

“You want the same suffix as dad?” Mistypaw teased.

Stonepaw shrugged. “He’s a great fighter, and so are Thistleclaw and Tigerclaw. Why shouldn’t I want to be like them?”

“Oh, it’s not about dad, it’s his crush on Thistleclaw,” Mosspaw cackled, ducking under her brother’s swipe.

Stonepaw looked mortified, his gray fur fluffed up and bristling. “Shut up! I do not!” He yowled. Whitestorm’s lip curled uncomfortably. Goldenflower nudged him, visibly shaking with the effort of containing her laughter.

“Do to! You’ve been pining after him since you opened your eyes,” Mosspaw needled him, dancing around the group to avoid him.

“Mosspaw! That’s so gross, he’s like as old as dad!” Stonepaw whined. “I just think he’s a good warrior, stop it!”

Mosspaw opened her mouth, and Fuzzypelt slapped his tail between her teeth. “Hush, we’re almost at the river.” As amused as he looked, Whitestorm looked twice as relieved. Apprentices crushing on your father was…probably really weird to hear about.

Sure enough, there was a steady backdrop of noise now, not dissimilar to the roar of the thunderpath, but more constant in its sound. The undergrowth began to thin out, and Mosspaw caught a glimpse of the pebbled shore beyond, sunlight flashing off the water.

Mosspaw picked up her pace, heart pounding. This was the other half of her heritage, the great ‘what if’. Would the river call to her? Would she have loved Riverclan, if her parents had chosen it instead? The need to know thrummed in her blood, pounded in her ears. Stonepaw and Mistypaw were keeping pace with her, and she glanced between them, holding her breath.

They broke free of the trees and bounded down onto the shore, deaf to the cries of their mentors. The river was awe-inspiring. Here, it rushed past, churning around rocks and racing towards destinations unknown.

Mosspaw approached the edge, peering down into the fast-moving water. It was at least a tail length drop down into the water, and she couldn’t see much beyond the surface. A glimpse of the pebbly river bed below, a flash of movement.

“Do you think we could swim, like Oakclaw?” Stonepaw asked, his eyes shining with something unreadable.

“Not here, it’s too fast,” Mistypaw murmured. “Maybe downstream, it has to get slower or Riverclan wouldn’t be able to fish, right?”

“We gotta go down river then!” Mosspaw mewed.

“Hey!” The three apprentices looked up from the water, faced with the angry visage of Goldenflower several fox-lengths back. “You three get back here! You’re across the border!” she hissed.

Mosspaw didn’t dare move. Stonepaw swallowed thickly, similarly hesitant to return. They stared back at Goldenflower for a few heartbeats. In the end, Mistypaw moved first, leading her siblings in a quick, shameful retreat.

“Thunderclan territory stops here, mouse brains,” She growled. “Riverclan has claim to the Sunningrocks right now.”

Now that they were paying attention, the border was obvious. A thick line of scent markers was easily detectable. Mosspaw hung her head, fur hot with shame. She couldn’t find it in herself to really regret it, though.

“Come on, we’ll finish the Riverclan border and be home,” Whitestorm soothed. “And then you can send them to pick ticks off Mumblefoot and Tawnyspots.”

Stonepaw immediately protested, but Mosspaw glanced at her sister to find Mistypaw staring back over her shoulder at the river. A familiar look danced behind her eyes, and Mosspaw made a note to talk to her sister later.

***

The apprentices stumbled into camp exhausted. Mosspaw ached all over, her muscles groaning with every step she took. For once, all three of them were quiet, looking at their mentors with hopeful, pitiful kitten eyes.

Goldenflower was still visibly miffed, but rolled her eyes and sighed. “Go get something to eat, you three. You’re dismissed for the evening, Stonepaw.”

“You too, Mistypaw,” Whitestorm added. Fuzzypelt nodded to Mosspaw.

The apprentices let out a sigh of relief as their mentors left them to it, Fuzzypelt and Whitestorm heading towards where Tigerclaw and Thistleclaw lay sharing tongues, while Goldenflower split off towards the warriors den.

Mosspaw grabbed blindly from the fresh-kill pile, carrying her randomly selected prey to the stump beside the apprentice’s den, where she flopped down on her side.

“I think I can feel my bones creaking,” Stonepaw huffed, throwing himself down beside her. Mistypaw groaned and slumped to the ground.

Mosspaw crunched into her prey, which turned out to be a robin, and didn’t respond. They had no energy left for talking or banter. Mosspaw was on autopilot, going through the motions that would get her to sleep fastest.

“Stonepaw! You’re back!”

Mosspaw glanced up, spotting Redpaw trotting over from the medicine den. “I was eating with Spottedpaw, I didn’t see you guys come in,” he mewed. “Brindlepaw and Frostpaw should be back soon, and then we can get you settled in!”

“What do you mean?” Mistypaw asked. Redpaw only grinned.

“It’s a surprise,” Willowpaw mewed. Mosspaw hadn’t seen her approach. She sat down beside her brother, sharing a look with him. Mosspaw narrowed her eyes.

Stonepaw, at least, looked like he’d perked up. “I hope it’s a good surprise,” he purred, blinking at Redpaw. The tortoiseshell’s eyes shone, but Mosspaw couldn’t tell the intent behind his eyes.

“I’m too tired for pranks,” she warned, side-eyeing the siblings. “I’ll shred your ears if-”

“Shut up, they’re here,” Mistypaw mewed. Mosspaw glared, but sure enough, the sisters shuffled into camp, carrying a rabbit between them and followed by a proud Robinwing.

“How come they’re with Robinwing and not their mentors?” Stonepaw asked.

Willowpaw shrugged. “She probably asked to take them for the day. I think she should’ve been a -flower, she’s always acting like everyone’s mom.”

“Do you think she’ll have another litter soon?” Mistypaw mused.

“I think she would if she could. She’s not allowed, though. Sunstar doesn’t want any more litters until some of us are made warriors,” Redpaw chimed. “Spottedpaw overheard him talking about it with Featherwhisker.”

“So for now she’s just…mothering Brindlepaw and Frostpaw,” Willowpaw shrugged.

As they watched, Fuzzypelt roused himself from his place beside Thistleclaw, trotting over to greet his daughters. Frostpaw sat up on her haunches to bump her head against his chin. He nuzzled against her, and then Brindlepaw, and finally pressed himself against Robinwing, their tails linking together. Mosspaw couldn’t hear them, but after a few moments the family broke apart again.

The sisters turned towards their peers. “Hey! How’d you like your first day as apprentices?” Frostpaw called out as they got closer.

“It was exhausting,” Stonepaw groaned, rolling dramatically onto his back. “We walked so far I think my paws are going to fall off!”

Redpaw flopped across Stonepaw’s body, knocking the wind out of him. “You think you’re tired now? Wait until Thistleclaw and Fuzzypelt team up on you,” he chuckled.

“How do you mean?” Mistypaw meowed.

“Thistleclaw runs drills,” Brindlepaw spoke up. “He and Fuzzypelt make up these scenarios, and we have to figure them out. Sometimes you solve it with tactical skills, planning things out and thinking them through, like invading another clan. Sometimes it’s just a fight, though, and we have to try and get out of a no-win situation alive.”

“Alive?” Mosspaw squeaked.

Willowpaw rolled her eyes. “She means in the game. If you get hit too many times, or if you get hit in a vulnerable place, you die. Which means you sit out for the rest of the game.”

“That sounds amazing,” Mistypaw said.

“It’s pretty fun, but exhausting. Sometimes they last all night,” Frostpaw replied. She and Brindlepaw crouched down to eat, effectively excusing themselves from all the chatter.

“I’m the best tactician, according to Fuzzypelt,” Redpaw purred. “Thistleclaw says I could be deputy one day!”

“Not if I’m deputy first,” Stonepaw teased.

“Please, you’re about as smart as a rock,” Mistypaw yawned. Stonepaw glared, but neither of them had the energy for wrestling. Mosspaw lay her chin on her paws, eyes half shut while her siblings bickered. She was about ready to sleep outside.

#warrior cats #fanfiction #mosskit #stonefur #mistystar #timelines

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