#currentkit

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 67

Oilstripe and Halibutdusk have recovered from birth and greencough, respectively. Meanwhile, Paleseed gets whitecough.

[Image ID: Waspdawn says to Paleseed, ““I know fighting whitecough can be awful, so I wanted to give you this tail weave I  made with Rabbitjoy to cheer you up.” Paleseed now has red feathers in her tail. Under her, it says + CONDITION: WHITECOUGH, + ACCESSORY: RED FEATHERS.]

(Waspdawn: 33, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Paleseed: 33, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

Rapidleaf talks with Honeybuzz about what it’s like to be a cleric.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz says to Rapidleaf, “It isn’t worth the pain.”]

---

Honeybuzz adjusted the long hunt pelt covering Tempestshade’s back. The black cat was asleep, one of their few peaceful naps as their leg deteriorated more and more. The thick snowfall outside sent cold air stirring between the wooden walls. Mosspounce and Carnationspeckle tirelessly tended to the fire outside the medicine den, making sure their fellow caretaker would not suffer anymore than they already did. Honeybuzz doubted it would do much, though. Whatever damage the silver jaw caused to Tempestshade’s leg, Honeybuzz and Troutpool only delayed its endgame. 

Honeybuzz groomed Tempestshade’s neck as his patient groaned softly. He muttered a soft prayer and turned to his pots and baskets of medicine. As he checked on the Clan’s supply of painkillers, paws trudged through the clumpy snow outside. Rattlepelt made her way inside, snow gathering in balls on her fox pelt. She slipped it off, seemingly unphased by the storm.

“Are you busy, Honeybuzz?” Rattlepelt asked. Honeybuzz glanced at Tempestshade.

“Not really,” Honeybuzz muttered. He peeked under the wraps on Tempestshade’s leg and sighed. “Are you staying warm, Rattlepelt?”

“As warm as I can be,” Rattlepelt sighed. She strolled by the shelves of medicine sitting along the sand and wood. “I’m hoping to find something for my mood. Something calming. Lavender, maybe?”

“Ah yes, lavender in the middle of winter,” Honeybuzz scoffed, mustering a pathetic laugh. His sarcasm soured at Rattlepelt’s sharp expression. Honeybuzz cleared his throat, further tucked Tempestshade under their pelt, and said, “There are a lot of herbs for mood. What exactly are you experiencing?”

“What am I not experiencing lately?” Rattlepelt sighed, undoing a leather lid from a pot and glancing inside. “You’re the cleric, I would think you’d notice.” Honeybuzz refrained from telling her actually I’ve been quite busy trying to save Tempestshade’s life, interpret a prophecy, and deal with the identity of my mother’s killer, but yes Rattlepelt, I’ve absolutely been studying your mood.

“Mood swings?” Honeybuzz guessed. “Anxiety?” Honeybuzz took the leather lid back from Rattlepelt and sealed the pot.

“The first thing, I suppose,” Rattlepelt huffed. “According to my mate and mothers, I’ve been acting… out of character lately. Not quite as lively as I used to be. You must have something that can bring me back to normal.”

“It might not be herbs you need,” Honeybuzz suggested. “Have you talked with Spikecrash or Paleseed?”

“I don’t need a mediator,” Rattlepelt grunted with a thrash of her tail. 

“You talked with Paleseed all the time when your mother was held hostage,” Honeybuzz pointed out. “Why the refusal?”

“It’s different!” Rattlepelt snapped. She shoved past Honeybuzz and studied the herbs on the other side of the den. “I don’t want others talking about my business. I’d rather deal with it on my own time. You really can’t spare a pot of something? I just need to chew on something so I don’t chew on someone’s head.” Rattlepelt stuck her face into a basket.

“I don’t want to waste herbs on an issue a mediator could resolve,” Honeybuzz said. “Can you please stop looting through our supplies? We need them for Tempestshade.”

“Oh, so you’ll give medicine to an omen but not to one of your Clan’s only artisans?” The curl in Rattlepelt’s lip was like an angry warrior scaring a trespasser from the border. She flung a paw toward Tempestshade’s weak form. Honeybuzz stood his ground; he was not his mentor. Only StarClan could order him around. Defiant blue pierced through angry copper. Rattlepelt’s eyes widened. She groaned, recoiling back to the shelves. “This is what I’m talking about! Can you please just give me something?”

“Rattlepelt,” Honeybuzz said, stressing every word, “I am not giving you a lick of medicine until you speak with a mediator.” Rattlepelt deflated, veiny ears falling. Her claws unsheathed for a moment, stabbing the packed sand floor. She quickly covered them with her tail. She marched to her discarded fox pelt.

“I’d better leave before I do something else I’ll regret,” Rattlepelt grumbled, sliding the wet pelt onto her back. “Good luck with Tempestshade, Honeybuzz.” Rattlepelt stared at the thick falling snow outside the den. She slunk into the gray light with nary a shiver, the fire outside bouncing off her red leather pelt. Just when Honeybuzz began to process the new problem lumped onto his back, Rapidleaf scurried inside. Really? Now, of all moments?

“StarClan, that’s cold!” Rapidleaf yelped, shivering violently. Snow tumbled off her back as she shook.

“I thought you were assisting Troutpool with a ritual,” Honeybuzz sighed, turning to his shelves and pretending to check the herbs in an empty pot. 

“We just got back,” Rapidleaf panted. “I… wanted to talk to you before Troutpool joined you again.” Honeybuzz sighed deeply, gathering his strength. He couldn’t put this conversation off forever. “I’ve been waiting for you to say something to the Clan. Why haven’t you?” Ugggghhhhh why did Rapidleaf have to do this to him?

“You said it was an accident, right?” he huffed, finally facing Scrubmask’s killer. “You didn’t even remember what happened until later. So I’m staying quiet. It isn’t worth the pain.”

“But I killed her,” Rapidleaf said, soft and slow.

“And we moved on!” Honeybuzz groaned, throwing his head back. StarClan, this was like talking to a kit. “Mom took a new mate. My brothers and I graduated. Everyone thinks a Witch Hunter did it. Why would I hurt them all over again with this?”

“Because I killed her,” Rapidleaf said again, emphasizing each word, sinking in Honeybuzz’s strong presence.

“If you want to be punished so badly, confess to a codekeeper!” Honeybuzz snapped. “I am a cleric. I help my Clan. This, what you’ve done? Knowing that now will help no one. Don’t pretend to care about the right thing when you’re just a coward.” Rapidleaf bowed her head low. The bright fire outside turned her fur dark red like dried blood.

“If that’s what you think is right,” Rapidleaf muttered.

“Do your job and we won’t have any problems,” Honeybuzz growled, his golden face burning like the sun in the fire glow. He turned back to his empty pots and said, “Get warmed up. I don’t want to have to treat you for shivers.” He kept his ears perked as Rapidleaf’s paws crunched through the snow. He only looked back when he was certain she was gone. 

Honeybuzz groaned loudly, trudging to his nest and flopping into it. If he had to take this secret to StarClan, he was more than happy to do so. It was just easier. Now he only had three problems to deal with.

Well, that wasn’t true, even if he didn’t realize it yet. He had two problems.

Because Tempestshade had stopped breathing.

(Honeybuzz: 15, male, cleric, daring, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Tempestshade: 28, nonbinary (they/them), caretaker, childish, incredible cook)

(Rattlepelt: 50, female, artisan, bloodthirsty, leather artist)

(Rapidleaf: 85, female, warrior, lonesome, prophecy interpreter)

Tempestshade dies from their mangled leg. Mosspounce tells fond stories of his littermate while Trumpetspore mourns and Scaleripple tries to push his feelings aside.

[Image ID: Scaleripple watches Trumpetspore and Mosspounce leave. Under him, it says + CONDITION: SENSORY OVERLOAD.]

---

James quietly loaded Tempestshade’s body onto his back as dawn glimmered through the snowfall. Troutpool gave up an old vole pelt from her nest so Tempestshade’s crusted, wounded leg could be covered during the funeral. The leather wrapped around their leg and concealed their deadly injuries. Dried herbs poked out from under the leather, hiding the decaying smell. 

Scaleripple could still smell it, though. He smelled every decomposing muscle and faded blood-scent that clung to Tempestshade’s pelt. He could smell Trumpetspore and Mosspounce’s sorrow, still strong after a night at vigil. He could smell the concoctions and ointments the clerics used at first to stop Tempestshade’s deterioration, then to soften the end. He could smell death clinging to the snow that drifted over camp.

“Tempestshade would probably say something silly now about how we should just talk to Oilstripe if we miss them,” Mosspounce scoffed, swallowing hard. Trumpetspore laughed softly, leaning hard into Mosspounce. The laugh was like claws tearing at Scaleripple’s ears.

“Do you three have something to mark their grave?” James asked, shifting awkwardly with the added weight.

“I do, I do,” Mosspounce sighed. He stood, groaning and stretching his back. “One of our bowls broke a few days ago. With how much Tempestshade cooked, I want to use that as their marker. What do you think, Scaleripple?”

“Fine,” Scaleripple said. He stared at the spot where Tempestshade’s body had laid all night. The snow formed a hole in their vague shape.

“Scaleripple?” Trumpetspore peeked around her brother. “I know we don’t talk much, but… thank you for being there for Tempestshade. Mosspounce and I can’t say enough how much that… I’m sorry, I can’t.” It took all Trumpetspore’s effort to get even those few words out. Mosspounce groomed his sister, purring through the pain.

“It’ll be a long walk with this snow,” James sighed. “Let’s get on our way.” Trumpetspore and Mosspounce followed James, but when Scaleripple stayed seated, Mosspounce stopped and glanced back.

“You two bury them,” Scaleripple said. “Be alone with them.” No one had any energy to argue; Mosspounce nodded after a moment and rejoined Trumpetspore on their slow procession to the graveyard. Scaleripple stayed trapped in the scent of death. It clung to his fur like salt. Scaleripple closed his eyes.

“Scale?” Weedfoot shuffled across the thick snow, catching fat snowflakes in her fur. The new scar she sported around her ankle made Scaleripple’s paws burn just from its look. Her whole body sagged like a dying weed as she slipped beside her son. “Do you need me today?”

“I’m alright, Mom,” Scaleripple said. Weedfoot’s pelt was a whisker’s length from Scaleripple’s, but it felt like she was laying on top of him. 

Scaleripple needed that.

“I would have thought you’d go with the others to the graveyard,” Weedfoot noted. 

“I didn’t want to,” Scaleripple said. His gaze was drawn back to the hole.

“Well, I won’t be sending you on any patrols for the next day or two,” Weedfoot explained softly (StarClan bless her, finally a soft voice for Scaleripple’s strained mind). “I know your sister has whitecough, but if you need someone to talk to, Paleseed can listen.” 

“I’d rather go on patrol,” Scaleripple said. His expression remained unchanged, neutral and stuck on the hole.

“I don’t think you’re truly alright, Scaleripple,” Weedfoot mumbled. She got between Scaleripple and the place Tempestshade once laid. Scaleripple blinked wildly, trying to focus on his mother’s form as his vision blurred. He knew what was coming as soon as his ears began to ring.

“Do you want the truth?” Scaleripple asked. The tensions in his shoulders made his muscles burn.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Weedfoot hummed softly.

“No, it isn’t,” Scaleripple said. There was no intended malice, yet his tone still struck at Weedfoot like a rat bite. The ringing in Scaleripple’s ears grew louder. “There’s a lot I don’t understand that others do. I understood Tempestshade, though. They understood me. Now no one understands me.” 

Scaleripple’s eyes could not focus, even with Weedfoot standing right in front of him. Color and shadow melted together like beeswax in a pot. His skin burned. Weedfoot said something, but her words were just like the camp; melted, dissolved, burning. No one understands. No one understands. No one understands No one understands No one understands No one understands NO ONE UNDERSTANDS.

Some part of Scaleripple’s mind heard his Clan gather around him, wondering just what he was muttering. He could see worried faces peering into his huge blue eyes, even if he had no way to react to them. Despite all that, all he could do was stare at nothing, pressure building in his chest, sinking deeper and deeper into himself. The caring words of his Clan blurred together, yet each phrase was clear as air, layering over the next in a bloodbath of screeching bird song.

“Scale, come on now, what are you saying?”

“We should get him out of camp.”

“StarClan, does everyone have to stare at him?”

“Scaleripple, it will all be okay.”

“I understand you, Scaleripple!”

“Leave him alone, this doesn’t concern you.”

“How would you feel if we swarmed you after a vigil?”

“We may not understand you, Scaleripple, but we love you.”

If only Scaleripple could thank the soft, careful voices that slipped through the noise. Perhaps later. There was nothing he could say now. Only collapse into the spiral of his own, odd mind.

(James: 143, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Tempestshade: 28, nonbinary (they/them), caretaker, childish, incredible cook)

(Scaleripple: 20, male, warrior, lonesome, formidable fighter)

(Trumpetspore: 28, female, warrior, nervous, excellent potter

(Mosspounce: 28, male, caretaker, adventurous, talented fire-starter)

(Weedfoot: 116, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

Weevilkit and Yarrowkit make snow lumps at the entrance to camp.

[Image ID: Weevilkit and Yarrowkit build a snow cat as Wolfkit approaches. Yarrowkit says, “It looks a bit like a cat!” Under her, it says + PERMANENT CONDITION: ONE BAD EYE. Under Wolfkit, it says + CONDITION: BRUISES.]

---

Weevilkit couldn’t feel her nose, but she didn’t care. She rolled snowballs across the camp clearing toward Yarrowkit, who studied the large snow lump she and Weevilkit had cobbled together. The many, many kits of RippleClan had woken up from their sunhigh nap and now ruled the camp, running and screaming through the snow, entertaining one another. Yarrowkit protected the snow lump from her rampaging littermates, leaving light paw prints in its sides. Four snowballs sat along the corners of the lump like fat, lazy paws. 

“Is this big enough?” Weevilkit groaned. She shoved her giant snowball at Yarrowkit with one last mighty push. Yarrowkit trotted around the snowball, gauging just how big it truly was.

“Perfect!” Yarrowkit chirped. “Help me lift it on!” Yarrowkit and Weevilkit stood on either side of the snowball. They tucked their heads under their mound, snow crumbling into their eyes. Necks straining and muzzles aching, they lifted the snowball off the ground and threw it onto the mound. The bottom chunk of the snowball plopped off, making Yarrowkit and Weevilkit shriek.

“Pack it in!” Weevilkit cried. She and Yarrowkit scooped up snow and shoved it under their lump’s new head. Eventually, the lump no longer threatened to fall off. When Weevilkit was certain the structure was stable, she made two smaller snowballs and stuck them on the lump’s head. She bounced off the lump and admired it from the back.

“It looks a bit like a cat!” Yarrowkit chirped.

“Snow cat!” Weevilkit cheered, rearing onto her back legs like a horse.

It was at that moment that something strange occurred, something Weevilkit would not fully understand until she was older. In fact, in the moment, it felt more like a daydream than anything else, something that had come to her in the night and performed for her once more under the light of day. Yet the way she would describe it matched no daydream or typical trick of the mind.

On the other side of camp, Wolfkit eyed a snow pile a few tail-lengths behind Weevilkit. Harvest helped Robinkit and Currentkit build a mountain to scale and dig into like moles. As Weevilkit watched her sister, the gray kit’s form flickered. She stayed where she was, staring hungrily at the mountain, but another Wolfkit charged forward, slipping out of her body like a ghost. There was a fogginess to this second Wolfkit, a transparent and shiny nature that seemed like Oilstripe’s tales of StarClan cats. The real, solid Wolfkit did not react to this secondary form running out of her chest, unseeing.

But Weevilkit saw it all.

This ghostly Wolfkit darted past Yarrowkit. A misty version of Yarrowkit overlapped her living form, fur spiking and lips curling. Two cats existed in the same space, one in the other, making Weevilkit’s head hurt. Weevilkit watched as the other Wolfkit left deep pawprints behind her, even though the snow was no more disturbed than it had been. The other Wolfkit threw herself at the snow mountain. Harvest, Currentkit, and Robinkit gained their own foggy forms, stepping away from the ghost of the mountain. The nonexistent Wolfkit slammed into the mountain, but rather than the mountain collapsing into light and fluffy clumps, her head made a hole in the stiff snow. Wolfkit’s ghost collapsed at the base of the mountain. Weevilkit blinked, and the ghosts were gone.

And then it happened again.

Wolfkit darted past Yarrowkit. The brown and white kit jumped, fur spiking and lips curling. Harvest, Currentkit, and Robinkit hurried back as Wolfkit threw herself full-speed at the snow mountain. She face-planted into the unyielding snow and stumbled back with a loud groan. Weevilkit blinked again, this time shaking out her snow-dusted pelt.

A smart kit would have questioned that strange sight. However (and with no disrespect intended), Weevilkit was not smart.

“Are you okay?” Harvest asked, trying to force back her laughter at the face-shaped imprint in the snow.

“My face hurts,” Wolfkit grumbled, pulling herself out of the snow.

“That’s what happens when you run into a mountain,” Robinkit said matter-of-factly.

“It’s okay,” Currentkit promised. He slipped beside Wolfkit as the gray molly whimpered softly and rubbed her sore face.

“Wolfkit!” Yarrowkit snapped. “Don’t run past me like that! That’s my bad side!”

“Your bad side?” Weevilkit scoffed. “What does that mean?”

“You know!” Yarrowkit whined, smoothing out her fur. “Your bad side! Your dead eye! How would you like it if I scared you like that?” Weevilkit cocked her head so far to the side, her neck hurt.

“I don’t have a dead eye,” Weevilkit said. “How can an eye be dead?” While Robinkit and Currentkit teased Wolfkit, Harvest appeared behind Weevilkit.

“Mom, can you tell her about your dead eye?” Yarrowkit huffed. “Which one is it?”

“Yarrowkit, I don’t know what you’re saying,” Harvest said softly, getting to her daughter’s level. “Is something wrong with your eyes?” Weevilkit peered closer at Yarrowkit’s face. There was a droopiness to her right eye. Her pupil was huge compared to her other eye. A green haze covered the eye, depriving it of its usual sharpness. Harvest leaned in as well, staring intently at the right eye.

“Wait,” Yarrowkit gulped, “is your other eye supposed to do something?” Harvest sat up, swallowing hard. She buried her twitching tail under her flank.

“Yarrowkit,” Harvest said, “can you come with me? I want you to talk to Troutpool and Honeybuzz.”

“But I’m playing,” Yarrowkit huffed, placing a paw on the snow cat.

“You can go back to your game afterward, I promise,” Harvest stammered. “Now come along. You need to tell the clerics just what you’ve told me.” Yarrowkit deflated as Harvest looped around her and nudged her toward the medicine den. She glanced at Weevilkit as she passed, turning her head far to see her with her one good eye. 

Now, truth be told, while she would have to train around it, Yarrowkit would get along just fine with a bad eye. That was not what Weevilkit should have been concerned about.

(Weevilkit: 2, female, kit, bullying, curious about StarClan)

(Yarrowkit: 2, female, kit, noisy, stares at fire)

(Wolfkit: 2, female, kit, polite, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Harvest: 55, female, queen, nervous, good fighter)

(Robinkit: 2, male, kit, unruly, avid play-fighter)

(Currentkit: 2, male, kit, polite, constantly climbing)

Anchovykit wakes up with a splitting headache and can’t get out of his nest.

[Image ID: Anchovykit says to Tempestshade, now a ghost, “Do you need help?” Under him, it says + CONDITION: SEVERE HEADACHE.]

---

It wasn’t fair. All the other kits were playing in the snow, screaming and cheering at their winter fun, kept warm by the fire crackling between the elder’s den and the warrior’s den. Anchovykit should have been out there. He had to go out there and play! He was missing out on all the joys of the day!

When Anchovykit stood at the edge of the nursery, looking out over camp, his eyes burned. His head smacked him about like an enemy warrior. The snow intensified the pain. He squeezed his eyes as tight as he could, trying to fight off the headache. Honeybuzz had told him to just rest, but how could he rest when everyone else was having fun?

But then again, with a headache like his, Anchovykit couldn’t play. Especially since it made him see things.

The headache added an odd sheen to the camp. A soft sparkle danced around the medicine den like stars in the day. Weevilkit and Wolfkit, laughing over their snowbound antics, shared in this sparkle. Oilstripe, who told her kits stories by the Shiprock, had a glow to her eyes that made Anchovykit’s pelt itch. Even though the shine clawed at his eyes, Anchovykit found it hard not to look at the odd ways his head toyed with him.

Still, the soft awe of the camp was nothing compared to the sheer horror of looking at Rattlepelt. The furless artisan watched the Clan from the corner of camp, using her fox pelt as warm flooring against the snow. Her single white ear twitched casually as she watched Weedfoot return from patrol with Lavendertwist, Waspdawn, and Puddlewhisper. Her claws poked through the snow as Weedfoot laughed at one of Lavendertwist’s jokes. She groaned softly, forcing herself to look away from the family. 

It wasn’t her gray skin or odd behavior that made Anchovykit nauseous, however. Slime covered Rattlepelt’s smooth skin, slick yet dull like mud. Her legs grew black the farther down they went. Slushy pools of black gunk collected at her paws. She had become a river of dark mud, her body as its source. And then there were her eyes. Gone was the warm and cheeky copper shine everyone found so familiar in Rattlepelt. Instead, bright yellow eyes burned with unhidden, unquenchable hatred, a hatred that threatened to seep into every wrinkle and fold of Rattlepelt’s bony body.

Anchovykit ran back into the quiet shadows of the nursery. Headaches were terrifying! He crawled into his empty nest with a whine. He shoved his muzzle into the moss and leather. The sooner he took a nap, the sooner this headache would go away, and the camp would look normal again. He breathed in the leftover scent of his mother and littermates. He was always safe with them. They would protect him from the horrors of his headache.

“You’re a funny little kit, aren’t you?”

“Clammask, go away,” Anchovykit whined through the moss.

“I sound like Clammask? Huh. Isn’t that funny!” 

Anchovykit wasn’t in his nest anymore. He opened his eyes to blackness below. It was not pure darkness, though; tiny stars glimmered far, far away. The floor matched the ceiling. All around Anchovykit, Silverpelt shone in small white specks. There was no ground for Anchovykit to stand on, but regardless, he stood. He could feel something warm and soft under his paws, but when he lifted them, there was nothing but Silverpelt underneath. His mother had told him that on some nights, Silverpelt glowed with a myriad of colors, but all he saw now was black and white. The sunless land was shockingly warm, warm in the way Anchovykit imagined summer to be, that beautiful season he had yet to see. The clawing, tearing pain in his head was now a small worm, wiggling about behind his eye. Anchovykit stated at his pelt. There was no source of light, but his body was not covered in shadow. There was a dullness to him, something in between light and darkness, the pure essence of his colors untainted by the sun.

“Weird dream,” he muttered.

“I don’t like involving a kitten like this, but they shouldn’t have to suffer for long.” Anchovykit turned around. A blue-gray molly stood behind him. Dark, swirling stripes like water criss-crossed her starry pelt. A moth’s wing hung delicately behind her ear in an impossible fashion, as though the moth had perched itself just on the stranger’s head. 

“You look like Weedfoot,” Anchovykit gasped.

“I should,” the stranger laughed. “I’m her daughter! My name is Ripplefern. I’m a member of StarClan, and I need your help.” Anchovykit’s eyes widened. His mother had grown up with second-paw tales of StarClan’s power, while Anchovykit and his littermates got to hear of their glory straight from the mouth of RippleClan. Now Anchovykit was one of those blessed souls that got visited by the ancestors in his sleep, even if he wasn’t a cleric! He kneaded the invisible ground, purring.

“Am I important?” Anchovykit purred, eagerly running up to Ripplefern.

“More than I can explain now,” Ripplefern sighed. “I have a friend who will spend a long time alone if you don’t help them. Do you think you can help my friend?”

“I’ll try,” Anchovykit promised. Ripplefern purred, her blue eyes growing soft as down.

“Follow me.” Ripplefern turned gracefully and wandered deeper into Silverpelt. Anchovykit stayed at her side, eyes scanning the strange land around him. If this was StarClan, it was really empty!

“Where are all the other StarClan warriors?” Anchovykit asked.

“They wouldn’t be here,” Ripplefern explained. “Sometimes, when a warrior dies, they don’t go straight to StarClan. Sometimes they need to wait a while as we sort through some problems. This is where they go to wait.” Ripplefern looked up into the endless speckled black. “My friend was born with a problem. When they died, the problem sent them here, and they can’t leave until we fix it. But it’s not a problem StarClan can fix alone. My friend could be here for moons if we got help the normal way. But we’re lucky. You’re here.”

“What’s the normal way?”

“Rituals, visions, other calls for assistance from the living clerics. Being alive makes you special.” Anchovykit walked a little taller. He was special.

A figure appeared in the distance. It was hard for Anchovykit to see them with their black fur. Anchovykit’s paws grew heavy when he saw black mud clinging to the figure’s legs. He only managed to recognize them when he saw their dark green eyes.

“Tempestshade!” Anchovykit gasped, leaving Ripplefern behind. “Do you need help?” Tempestshade gawked at the kit. They still looked alive; a little hazy, perhaps, but alive. Anchovykit had only known them with their leg bandaged, but now it was strong and free of scars. They could stand and look down on Anchovykit, just as confused as he was. 

“Do I know you?” Tempestshade asked.

“He was born while you were fighting your death wounds,” Ripplefern explained. Tempestshade only just noticed Ripplefern. They grew as still as they had been when their body laid in camp for vigil. 

“You look better than when I saw you last,” they managed to gulp.

“Anchovykit is here to help you,” Ripplefern said. “Do you see all that black ichor, Anchovykit? I need you to rip it off, like when you tear into a fish.” Anchovykit sneered at the ooze on Tempestshade’s legs. He was supposed to touch that? With his mouth? What could he even hold onto? It was mud!

“Why?” Anchovykit groaned.

“You’re the only one who can,” Ripplefern said. Hmm. Well, if StarClan asked it of him…

Anchovykit peered at the ooze. Maybe if he just bit the whole paw…. He shut his tiny jaws around Tempestshade’s front leg. Tempestshade hissed and smacked Anchovykit.

“Alright, not like that,” Ripplefern laughed. “Just… pretend you’re removing the lid off a pot. Peel the ichor off like you peel off the leather.” Oh, that made much more sense! 

Anchovykit spat out the gunk that stuck to his teeth. He took a big breath and dug his fangs into the black ichor. He pulled at the ooze with a violent, suctioning sound. It was like a paw trying to rip itself from the mud. There was no ground to gain a foothold on, but Anchovykit dug himself in regardless. The ichor stuck to Tempestshade like some many-legged monster of the deep. Anchovykit dug deeper into the ooze and pulled harder. As it stretched farther and farther from Tempestshade’s leg, it began to take a new form. Feline ears poked out of the black. A slender form took shape, its scruff in Anchovykit’s grasp. 

It was a cat, utterly soaked in the gut-heaving black ichor, no bone or pelt to speak of. It wasn’t much smaller than Anchovykit himself. Anchovykit dropped the mewling creature and gagged.

“What is that?” Anchovykit groaned. The creature squirmed and twitched like a newborn, making the worm in Anchovykit’s skull spasm once more in a headache.

“The power of the Dark Forest made manifest,” Ripplefern said, her tone low and serious in a way Anchovykit had never heard anyone speak in his short life. “This is Tempestshade’s curse in physical form, the evil energy that struck out against those who got too close. Your special sight shows you their influence, and the influence of the stars. You are the one who can pull them from idea and ethereal being to something tangible.”

“Huh?” Anchovykit said.

“Strike it along its neck,” Ripplefern sighed, waving her paw at the creature. “Now that you’ve pulled the curse off Tempestshade, you can fight it.” Ripplefern needed to get better at explaining things. Anchovykit may have been young, but he understood what it meant to fight like a warrior.

Anchovykit jumped onto the creature with a yowl more suited to a play fight than true battle. The pathetic thing was no match for a harsh wind, let alone Anchovykit’s tiny fangs. He shoved the creature onto its back and bit into its neck. The creature stopped squirming at once. As Anchovykit tightened his jaw, the monster’s ichor dripped through the invisible floor. It tumbled through the starry abyss below, everfalling, never landing. Piece by piece the creature melted away until Anchovykit’s teeth smacked together with nothing left to hold.

“I just fought a Dark Forest cat,” he gasped softly. His flank wiggled as he cheered, “I fought the Dark Forest!”

“In a sense,” Ripplefern chuckled.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised I didn’t go to StarClan,” Tempestshade said with an awkward scoff. “Can’t really let in an omen, I suppose.”

“It’s not your fault the Dark Forest latched onto you,” Ripplefern said. She slowly approached the black tabby. Anchovykit stepped back before he even thought to give them room. “You did well with what you had to bear. But now you don’t have to wait here anymore. You can come with me.” 

Ripplefern’s nose touched Tempestshade’s forehead. A spark danced where skin met fur. Stardust shimmered over Tempestshade’s head. A glittering wave coursed over their pelt. Brilliant stars danced along the stripes in their fur. The gunk that clogged their paws was now a shimmery, sparkling mist. Tempestshade gawked at their new form, lifting each paw to study the shine.

“Oh,” Tempestshade muttered.

“StarClan is excited to taste some of your food,” Ripplefern purred, bunting Tempestshade’s shoulder. “There’s a lot I want to talk to you about.”

“I just want to know how Moss and Trumpet and Scale are doing without me,” Tempestshade sighed, touching noses with Ripplefern. They paused for a moment, then stepped back. “Actually, no, that isn’t the only thing I want to know. What’s his story?” Tempestshade looked at Anchovykit.

“I’ll tell you in private,” Ripplefern promised. She set her tail on Tempestshade’s back.

“Aren’t you going to tell me?” Anchovykit asked, marching up to Ripplefern. “I don’t know my story either!”

“I’ve shown you what you can do,” Ripplefern sighed, shaking her head, “but you’ll have to work some things through yourself. I’m afraid StarClan can’t do everything for you. Just remember what I taught you, Anchovykit. Be good to your mother.” Ripplefern touched her nose to Anchovykit’s head. It was as cold as the winter chill blowing off the ocean.

When Anchovykit woke up, he still had a raging headache, but that was nothing compared to the complete and utter confusion that made his vision spin.

(Anchovykit: 2, male, kit, charming, curious about StarClan)

(Rattlepelt: 50, female, artisan, bloodthirsty, leather artist)

(Ripplefern: 18, female, historian, charismatic, talented swimmer, good fighter)

(Tempestshade: 28, nonbinary (they/them), caretaker, childish, incredible cook)

Billowkit can’t stop sneezing.

[Image ID: Billowkit asks Troutpool, “So I’ll be sneezing forever?” Under him, it says + PERMANENT CONDITION: ALLERGIES. In the back, Currentkit calls, “Let’s see what makes you sneeze!” Under him, it says + NEW SKILL: HAS LOTS OF IDEAS.]

(Troutpool: 28, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Billowkit: 2, male, kit, bossy, active imagination)

(Currentkit: 2, male, kit, polite, constantly climbing, has lots of ideas)

[mercuryclan]

MercuryClan has begun their life in the wastes! It's going....mostly well!

(in future, I likely won't include every cat's doings/every patrol, but it felt right to do so for the starting moon!)

With that, you can now send asks to everyone!

[rippleclan]

Man how am I 50 notes late to my own fanart?

Thus, the kitocalypse.

[light-at-the-end-of-the-abyss]

For hypo... Twigchomp & violetstar? Since she seemed to have had a interest in him. (Could just be a surogat if he's exlusively gay!) And I offer up my Bramblehoney as a sacrifice for hypo with any of yours! ( Poor them <'3)

Since I got a request from Discord for Violet x Anubis, I decided to draw all four Violetstar babies together XD Sootkit and Dustkit are really protective of each other, while Currentkit and Bunnykit are just small agents of chaos.

And for Bramblehoney, randomizer decided that Cicadathud was a good match! Love the way the fluffy goobers turned out! I hope you like them as well!

[emotional-damage-book-series]

Shoreclan moons 50-100!

Moon 53:

- Yellowstar loses a life to age

Moon 54:

- Fidgetpaw returns! She’s given a warrior name- Fidgetroar

- Cavepaw becomes Cavemoss

Moon 55:

- Yellowstar loses a life to age

- Ibispelt is expecting kits!

- Coyotepaw becomes Coyotemark

Moon 56:

- Stormpaw becomes Stormpearl

Moon 57:

- Yellowstar loses remaining lives

- Ibispelt has a single kitten- Bearkit

- Yellowclaw is promoted to leader, becoming Yellowstar the second

- Yellowfleck is promoted to deputy

- Stormpearl is lost

Moon 58:

- Caterpillarpeak died of snakebite

- Oddblink is expecting kits

Moon 59:

- Yellowstar 2 brought back 2 kittens- Oakkit and Lizardkit

- Oddblink and Kitekick had 2 kittens- Umberkit and Breezekit

Moon 62:

- Quillpaw brings home 4 kittens- Dawnkit, Splashkit, Juniperkit and Whirlkit

- Quillpaw died

Moon 63:

- Bearkit becomes Bearpaw and is apprenticed to Kitekick

Moon 64:

- Coyotemark drowned

- Yellowfleck is expecting kits

- Swiftspeckle brought home three kits- Tallkit, Slightkit, and Umberkit

Moon 66:

- Yellowfleck had two kits with Curlstripe- Flashkit and Lilykit

- Currentkit joins the clan

Moon 67

- Oakkit becomes Oakpaw, and is apprenticed to Tuftstep

- Lizardkit becomes Lizardpaw, and is apprenticed to Oddblink

- Umberkit becomes Umberpaw, and is apprenticed to Cavemoss

- Breezekit becomes Breezepaw, and is apprenticed to Curlstripe

Moon 68:

- Bearpaw becomes Bearspeck

- Yellowstar 2 loses a life

- Dawnkit becomes Dawnpaw and is apprenticed to Kitekick

- Splashkit becomes Splashpaw and is apprenticed to Bearspeck

- Juniperkit becomes Juniperpaw, and is apprenticed to Yellowstar 2

- Whirlkit becomes Whirlpaw and is apprenticed to Fidgeroar

- Currentkit becomes Currentpaw and is apprenticed to Yellowstar 2

Moon 69

- Ibispelt dies

- Saplingkit joins the clan

Moon 70:

- Umberkit becomes Umberpaw and is apprenticed to Bearspeck

- Slightkit becomes Slightpaw and is apprenticed to Kitekick

- Tallkit becomes Tallpaw and is apprenticed to Curlstripe

- Juniperpaw becomes a med cat apprentice

- Valleypelt joins the clan as a new med cat

Moon 71:

- Hailkit joins the clan

Moon 72:

- Stormpearl returns

- Flashkit becomes Flashpaw and is apprenticed to Tuftstep

- Lilykit become Lilypaw and is apprenticed to Stormpearl

- Saplingkit becomes Saplingpaw and is apprenticed to Yellowfleck

- Melba joins the clan

- Muffy joins the clan

Moon 73:

- Yazhu joins the clan with kits- Bouncekit and Frozenkit

- Fallenshade joins the clan

Moon 74:

- Splashpaw dies via sea monster

- Lizardpaw becomes Lizardwatcher

- Breezepaw becomes Breezetooth

- Swiftspeckle has three kittens- Greenkit, Fidgetkit, and Raggedkit

Moon 75:

- Cavemoss died of redcough

- Umberpaw becomes Umberwind

- Tallpaw becomes Tallfluff

- Hailkit becomes Hailpaw and is apprenticed to Tallfluff

- Bristlekit joins the clan

- Slightpaw died in a flood

Moon 76:

- Odetta and Kitekick drown in a flood

- Curlstripe curses Odetta at the vigil???

- Koba joined the clan

- Dawnpaw becomes Dawncry

- Juniperpaw becomes Juniperfade

- Umberpaw becomes Umberwhisker

- Saplingpaw died in a flood

Moon 77:

- Currentpaw becomes Currentfern

Moon 78:

- Bristlekit becomes Bristlepaw and is apprenticed to Umberwind

Moon 79:

- Whirlpaw becomes Whirlheart

- Flashpaw becomes Flashdapple

- Bouncekit becomes Bouncepaw and is apprenticed to Muffy

- Frozenkit becomes Frozenpaw and is apprenticed to Yellowstar 2

Moon 80:

- Greenkit becomes Greenpaw and is appreciated to Melba

- Fidgetkit becomes Fidgetpaw and is apprenticed to Currentfern

- Raggedkit becomes Raggedpaw and is apprenticed to Whirlheart

Moon 81:

- Lilypaw becomes Lilyrip

Moon 82:

- Hailpaw becomes Hailweb

- Fidgetroar died of whitecough

- Stormpearl and Yazhu are both expecting!

Moon 82:

- Raggedpaw died of yellowcough

Moon 83:

- Stormpearl and Tallfluff had one kitten! Moorkit!

- Breezetooth is expecting

- Muffy had two babies (some warning would’ve been nice!) Rainkit and Dolphinkit

- Yazhu had three kits! Faithkit, Duckkit, and Boragekit

- Bristlepaw becomes Bristlemoth

Moon 85:

- Yellowstar 2 lost all remaining 8 lives at once

- Yellowfleck has been promoted to Yellowstar 3, and gets lives from: Ibispelt, Kitekick, Odetta, Coyotemark, Sneeze, Caterpillarpaw, Quillpaw, and Yellowstar 2!

- Oddblink is promoted to deputy

Moon 86:

- Breezetooth had three kits! Pearlykit, Dogkit, and Clearkit

- Frozenpaw becomes Frozenlake

Moon 87:

- Frozenlake found dead near Slumberclan border

- Greenpaw becomes Greencreek

- Bouncepaw becomes Bouncetree

- Tuftstep and Lizardwatcher become mates

Moon 88:

- Fidgetpaw becomes Fidgetmask

- Pearlykit died of a claw wound

Moon 90:

- Moorkit becomes Moorpaw and is apprenticed to Lizardwatcher

- Rainkit becomes Rainpaw and is apprenticed to

- Dolphinkit becomes Dolphinpaw and is apprenticed to Bristlemoth

- Faithkit becomes Faithpaw and is apprenticed to Melba

- Duckkit becomes Duckpaw and is apprenticed to Oddblink

- Boragekit becomes Boragepaw and is apprenticed to Currentfern

- A rogue ambush kills Koba, Currentfern, and Lizardwatcher

Moon 91:

- Hazystripe joins the clan

Moon 92:

- Dogkit becomes Dogpaw and is apprenticed fo Flashdapple

- Rainpaw is jealous of Dogpaw?!

- Clearkit becomes Clearpaw and is apprenticed to Yellowstar 3

- Bouncetree has been lost

Moon 93:

- Melba and Stormpearl are both expecting!

- Valleypelt brought a kitten back to camp- Whitekit

Moon 94:

- Curlstripe brings two kits back to camp- Lightkit and Rootkit

- Dogpaw and Faithpaw died in a flood

Moon 95:

- Curlstripe has redcough

- Stormpearl has three kits! Mistlekit, Graykit, and Jaggedkit

- Melba has two kits- Mudkit and Umberkit

- Muffy died of Greencough

- All the death gives poor Mistlekit shock

Moon 96:

- Fidgetmask is killed by rogues

Moon 97:

- Rainpaw becomes Rainblink

- Boragepaw becomes Boragespeckle

- Dolphinpaw died of yellowcough

- Jaggedkit is interested in the Dark Forest????

- Greencreek becomes a med cat

Bristlemoth, Bearspeck, and Flashdapple die in a flood

Moon 98:

- Moorpaw becomes Moorslash

- Clearpaw becomes Clearriver

- Oliverspot joins the clan

Moon 99:

- Fallenshade retires to elder’s den

- Duckpaw becomes Duckstalk

- Whitekit becomes Whitepaw and is apprenticed to Moorslash

Moon 100:

- Lightkit becomes Lightpaw and is apprenticed to Oddblink

- Rootkit becomes Rootpaw and is apprenticed to Umberwhisker

@residents-of-the-darkforest, @wills-woodland-warriors, @starfalcon555

[meadow-brook]

FinClan Tales - Chapter 2 The Starstone - part 2/3

“A cat with nine lives,” Leapshock breathed. “Who would’ve thought?”

Olivepelt didn’t reply as Finstar led the way out of camp and towards the Starstone. Olivepelt had remembered that the strange warrior had remarked on her “excellent fighting skills” when the warriors talked about their skills, to see who was best suited for what. Olivepelt figured that if they did run into trouble, such skills would come in handy. Firebird had commented on similar skills, even challenging Leapshock to a sparring match to see who was better, but Olivepelt didn’t want to take him away from Currentkit, who had so recently been lost from his mother and needed the company. He had started to warm up around the other cats, but had stuck so closely to Firebird that Olivepelt worried about him.

Aside from Leapshock’s occasional chittering at StarClan knows what, the patrol was relatively quiet. Occasionally, Olivepelt glanced at the sky as they walked. The first warriors of StarClan were beginning to make themselves known amongst the dark pelt of dusk.

A sudden fear gripped Olivepelt’s fur. What if StarClan truly doesn’t exist? Is this a lie after all? A tale for kits?

Olivepelt shook herself. It couldn’t be. Even though the mysterious starry warrior hadn’t visited her since her first night in camp, she knew it was more than just a dream. She had spoken with a real warrior from long ago. Perhaps she would have the chance to speak to him again tonight.

“Who are you?”

The sudden hiss broke Olivepelt from her thoughts. In front of Finstar were two cats, a dark brown tabby tom, and grey smoke she-cat. Both cats had some light scarring, suggesting they have been on their own for a while, perhaps since birth, and the grey she-cat was carrying a fish in her jaws.

“What are you doing on our territory?” the brown tabby continued, his fur beginning to bristle.

Olivepelt stepped forward confidently. “What constitutes your territory?” she asked politely. “I don’t smell any markers.”

“Markers?” the grey she-cat spat, having set down her fish. “We’ve never needed markers. Cats know well enough to keep away,” she growled, unsheathing her claws. 

Leapshock was padding forward, her neck fur bristling, but Olivepelt held her back with her tail. She didn’t worry about Finstar, who was taking a couple paces back, as if ready to retreat already.

“You might need to,” Olivepelt suggested gently. “We mean no harm, but we’re forming a Clan over there.” She gestured with a twitch of her ears back towards their camp and the rest of their territory. “We’ll be setting our own markers, but it’d be polite for us to know where your territory starts first, before we set ours. We don’t want to intrude.”

Olivepelt watched as the two cats shared a confused glance. Their claws were still unsheathed, but they seemed to relax slightly. They clearly weren’t expecting politeness, or the sudden news of new neighbors.

“We’ll think about it,” the brown tabby answered carefully. “But you still haven’t answered why you’re on our territory. Not many cats come this way anymore.”

Olivepelt looked past them. She could see the rocky hill a lot closer now, though she still couldn’t quite tell where the Starstone might be. A sudden fear gripped her. What if it had been so long it had eroded away, or disappeared? She prayed it was still there, forcing her mind back to the topic at hand.

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind, we were traveling up there.” She pointed with her tail. “We need to speak with our warrior ancestors through the Starstone. Have you heard of it?”

Olivepelt’s words had sent the grey she-cat’s neck fur bristling again.

“You stay far away from there,” she growled with such ferocity, Olivepelt took a step back. The grey she-cat’s muzzle was curled in such a snarl, the scar at the bridge of her nose threatened to reopen. If she was always like this, no wonder it never healed.

Before Olivepelt could speak, the brown tabby held up his tail, as if holding his companion back. “Warrior ancestors, you say?”

Olivepelt nodded, hesitant about how much she should tell these cats. Surely they had a right to know the history of their territory?

“Long ago, there used to be Clans here,” Olivepelt began carefully. “They lived by a set of rules they called the warrior code, met every full moon to share news with each other, and every half-moon the Clan healers would go to the Starstone to talk with their ancestors.” She didn’t want to bring up Finstar getting his nine lives, worried that these cats would see that as them becoming more powerful and therefore a potential threat.

“It’s not the half-moon, though,” the brown tabby meowed suspiciously.

“Yes, well, er—”

“We wanted to make sure it was still available for us,” Finstar spoke for the first time, padding up beside Olivepelt. “And make sure we were on the right track forming our Clan, FinClan, by speaking with our ancestors. Surely you wouldn’t keep us from doing so peacefully, when it has nothing to do with you?”

“It has everything to do with us! It’s our territory!” The grey she-cat’s tail was lashing, but the brown tabby looked thoughtful. He turned towards his companion.

“Salt, could you take the prey back to the dens and let Stout know? If I don’t let these loners pass, they’ll try to find another way up and be more of a threat. I’d rather escort them.”

The grey she-cat, presumably Salt, opened her mouth as if to argue, but seemed to think better of it. She nodded, picking up the fish and padding off, towards the tumble of rocks.

Olivepelt was too relieved to worry about being called loners. They’ll know who we are soon enough, she decided. This is a good start.

With a flick of his tail, the brown tom ushered the group of them forward.

“I’ll watch from the back,” he decided. “I presume you know where you’re going.”

He doesn’t want us to wander off while he isn’t looking, Olivepelt thought. I can’t say I blame him.

Leapshock padded beside Olivepelt. “I’ll watch him while he watches us,” Leapshock hissed in her ear, and before she could respond, she was skipping ahead.

The walk to the Starstone was somehow even more silent than the walk to the stream where they had met the two rogues, and eventually the group found themselves walking up the hill of boulders. Olivepelt noted that there were a couple cats hanging around the side adjacent to where they climbed, though they did not bother them. She guessed they were guarding the entrance to their camp after Salt altered them.

All thoughts about the strange group of rogues vanished when Olivepelt climbed over the crest of the hill. Night had fallen, and plenty more stars scattered across the sky. What drew Olivepelt’s attention to them was not the beauty of Silverpelt itself, but their reflection in the large stone in front of her. Glittering in the moonlight, Olivepelt almost had to squint at the brightness, as billions of stars reflected off its surface. She could spot even the faintest twinkle on the stone’s surface,

“This is it,” Olivepelt whispered. “This is the Starstone.”

[needleclanclangen]

can you believe it? a year has passed for the cats of needleclan. riverkit and currentkit have grown up.

[riseofswampclan]

Fun fact Currentkit and Whiskerpaw are both related to eachother and are both half clan.

Its just one never saw their mom and the other saw her.

Both came from the same pair but different litter.

[warriorsbutnotreally]

runningrunning AU lore so far;

Runningwind and Runningnose are mates and the two have four kits [how is purely headcanon];

Swiftshadow is a demiboy who uses it/he pronouns. He's bisexual.

Dashtail is a trans molly who uses she/they pronouns. She's pan.

Runningwing is a cis molly who uses any pronouns. She's bi.

Pouncepad is a cis tom who uses he/him pronouns. He thinks he's straight but has a coming out as aro-ace arc.

/

Runningwing likes to pick fights because they're a good fighter and she knows she'll win any fight they're in.

/

Dashtail actively flirts with Splashdawn of WindClan, who is the nonbinary child of Barkface and Mudfur.

Splashdawn as a poor relationship with their half sister, Leopardfur, who doesn't like that Mudfur cares for someone who isn't Brightsky. They used to be a medicine cat but hated it. They are now a warrior.

They're aware of both of their fathers and has a good relationship with both of them, even if they didn't follow in the footsteps of becoming a medicine cat.

/

Dashtail and Splashdawn end up finding and adopting five kits that they find abandoned;

the kits are named Flashkit, Gustkit, Currentkit, Bogkit, and Sunkit. These five are distantly related to Spiderstar, the last leader of SkyClan, and are destined to help repair SkyClan.

- maybe even bring them back to the forest, though that's entirely optional.

when these kits grow up they earn the names Flashstorm, Gustleap, Currentstripe, Bogdusk, and Sunwatcher [chooses the name in honor of Skywatcher].

Flash moves to ThunderClan, Gust stays in WindClan, Current moves to RiverClan, Bog moves to ShadowClan, and Sun wants to stay with SkyClan

/

Dappletail and Foxheart are in a relationship - they had Cherrypaw [tortoiseshell] and Chestnutkit [ginger] in one litter and Featherkit [albino] and Cricketkit [tortoiseshell] in another

/

halfClan relationships are also very political, though they are allowed unless two or more Clans are angry and place marriage bans

and with their kits being around during the Brokenstar times

Runningnose and Runningwind have to jump a lot of hoops not to let it slip that they're married despite the ban against ShadowClan

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 70, Part 2

Mitespark drugs Rattlepelt’s meal so she falls into a deep sleep.

[Image ID: Mitesparks speaks with Weevilkit, Anchovykit, Wolfkit, and Downstar.]

Anchovykit and his friends stayed in the quarantine den with Downstar and Honeybuzz the rest of the day while Waspdawn kept prying ears away from their conversation. There was something so adult about it all that even with Weevilkit’s terrifying description of what Rattlepelt could have done, Anchovykit still stood tall and tried to talk to his leader like a noble warrior. To his shock, Downstar and Honeybuzz didn’t talk down to him. They actually seemed to respect the kits! Maybe it was how close they were to apprenticeship, or maybe it was their powers. Whatever it was, Anchovykit liked it.

He did wish he could play a bigger role in the upcoming fight, though.

As dusk slipped away and night covered the camp, the kits pressed their ears against the walls of the shipwreck, listening to the conversations in the medicine den through layers of wood. They couldn’t hear much, but Anchovykit had a sharp picture in his mind; Rattlepelt, sitting in a nest with her bite wounds bandaged, Troutpool and Estherfern minding their business as the kits’ spy entered the den.

“Rattlepelt,” Mitespark called, voice clear through the shipwreck. “Asterblaze and I made dinner tonight. It’s just a simple soup, but I added a little salt to your bowl, since you’re hurt.”

“Hmm,” Rattlepelt huffed. “Thank you.” There was a long pause (most likely, Mitespark was setting down the bowl of soup for Rattlepelt). Eventually, Rattlepelt asked, “Did Waspdawn find out why those kits tried to kill me?”

“I think he’s still interviewing them,” Mitespark gulped. “Whatever reason they had, they’re still kits. I’m sure you can talk it through.”

“What I should do is treat them the same!” Rattlepelt suddenly yowled. 

“Rattlepelt!” Troutpool snapped, suddenly reminding Anchovykit of her presence.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t say that,” Rattlepelt growled.

“Just get some rest,” Mitespark sighed. The medicine den grew quiet. Weevilkit was the first to turn around and greet Mitespark when she looped around the shipwreck. Downstar and Honeybuzz had been waiting to the side of the den, sharing tongues. They quickly stood at the young artisan’s approach.

“Did you drug the soup?” Weevilkit asked, hurrying up to Mitespark.

“I put the medicine in, like Honeybuzz asked,” Mitespark gulped, fur prickling. “Downstar, this doesn’t feel right. Why did we need to sedate Rattlepelt?”

“Because her recent behavior hasn’t been her own,” Downstar sighed with a sorry shake of her head. “You’ve done well, Mitespark. We just need to wait for Rattlepelt to fall asleep now.”

“Do you think my parents will still be mad at me after this?” Wolfkit asked, still listening through the shipwreck.

“Once we explain the situation,” Honeybuzz promised, “Mosspounce and Lemmy will understand. You were just defending the other kits.” Wolfkit nodded, although Honeybuzz’s assurances did not ease the tension tightening through her shoulders.

“How long will it take Rattlepelt to sleep?” Weevilkit groaned. “What if she acts out again?”

“I’ll go back to the medicine den and fetch you when she’s dreaming,” Honeybuzz said. He trotted out of the quarantine den, leaving the kits to wait. Weevilkit paced around Anchovykit and Wolfkit. Her soft glow, invisible to all but Anchovykit, reminded him of the moon, shifting positions around the sky, providing a gentle but stunning light. 

“Wolfkit?” Weevilkit asked, still pacing. “Anchovykit? Do you two know what you want to train as?”

“We’re talking about this now?” Wolfkit gulped. She sat in a tight loaf. The stress building under her pelt made Anchovykit hurt just looking at her. He sat down beside Wolfkit, cocking his head to Weevilkit.

“Answer the question,” Weevilkit huffed, sitting with a dramatic thump.

“I’ll be a warrior,” Anchovykit declared. “I’ve known that forever! What else would I be?”

“Your sight would make you a good cleric,” Downstar pointed out from where she continued to lounge.

“That’s funny,” Anchovykit laughed.

“I was really impressed with Waspdawn today,” Wolfkit said, finding her voice through her fear, “even though he scared me. I would love to train with him.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Wolfkit,” Downstar promised. “Weevilkit, are you asking because you aren’t sure?”

“The opposite,” Weevilkit huffed. She stopped pacing and gave her chest a lick. “I want to be a cleric.” Really? Weevilkit; wild, commanding Weevilkit, as a humble cleric?

Before Anchovykit could pry into his friend’s odd decision, Honeybuzz hurried back to the den, panting, “She’s asleep. Let’s do this quickly.”

“To your paws, kits,” Downstar huffed as Honeybuzz scurried back to the medicine den. Downstar trotted after her youngest cleric, with the three kits on her tail. Waspdawn joined them, leaving his guard post.

The soft fire under the cleric’s personal oven illuminated part of the medicine den. The clerics’ ointments and concoctions cast soft, but disorienting shadows onto one another. Troutpool and Estherfern watched in sheer confusion as the gaggle of cats stormed inside. Rattlepelt slept in a nest tucked to the side. She seemed to drown in the black ichor that forever oozed off her legs. Anchovykit knew there was a bandage wrapped around her shoulder, but the ichor smothered it. He ground his paws into the sand. Possessed or not, how dare she even think of attacking Waspdawn’s kits?

“Honeybuzz, what’s going on?” Troutpool asked as Estherfern carefully glared at the group.

“I think you should explain this to them outside the den,” Downstar muttered. Her dark gaze revealed her true intentions. Honeybuzz flicked his ears and looped around his fellow clerics. He herded them outside like a monster pushed a horse onwards.

“Whatever this is,” Estherfern said, eyes locking on Anchovykit, “good luck.” Did she know what was happening? Whatever the case, Anchovykit quickly looked away from the brown cleric. No time to worry about creepy clerics. It was time to save Rattlepelt.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Waspdawn asked as Anchovykit crept toward Rattlepelt.

“I should,” Anchovykit gulped. He mimicked the hunter’s crouch so often demonstrated in camp. Even now, in such tense of circumstances, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if his form was right, if the adults were impressed.

The black ichor covering Rattlepelt sloshed in Anchovykit’s presence. With how close he now was, he swore the spiritual ooze had a scent; something like mushrooms, or faded autumn leaves. Anchovykit braced his poor tongue for the awful taste ahead. He carefully bit into the ichor, Ripplefern’s guidance echoing in the background. Peel it off like a lid.

“I see something!” Wolfkit gasped as Anchovykit pulled. The taste made Anchovykit want to vomit, but he pushed on. He dug his paws in, straining his neck. The ooze stuck to Rattlepelt, slimy tendrils hooking around her as Anchovykit pulled more and more of it off. Even though he only grabbed the one leg, the ichor draining from the others seemed pulled to Anchovykit’s grasp like rain falling from the sky. Fat, sticky drops flew off Rattlepelt and onto the growing mass in Anchovykit’s jaws. It was getting too big for his mouth. How much ichor was on Rattlepelt?

With a loud, decisive groan, Anchovykit wrenched his head back and pulled the last tendrils of ichor off Rattlepelt’s body. He threw the huge, squirming mass away, bile stinging his throat. The bubbling, oozing ichor (which, from the horror in the eyes around him, everyone could now see) flew across the medicine den. It splattered at Downstar’s paws with a violent squish.

“That’s a Shardling?” Waspdawn muttered as Wolfkit sneered at the pile of ichor. Weevilkit hissed as a bubble formed on the surface of the ichor and popped.

“What do we do with it?” Wolfkit asked. Downstar had no time to answer; Weevilkit suddenly jumped with a loud yowl, making everyone’s fur spike. She stared at the ichor, seeing something that Anchovykit could not… not for a few seconds, at least.

“Get out!” Weevilkit screeched, running for the exit. “Get out right now!” Anchovykit and Wolfkit immediately raced out of the medicine den, looping around the ichor. Waspdawn and Downstar scrambled back just in time. The second Downstar moved, the ichor lunged at where she had been standing, impossibly sharp fangs suddenly launching from the mess like a great beast of the sea breaching the waves.

“Stay behind me!” Downstar yelped. She skidded across the sand and shoved the kits to her back. The ichor lunged and stumbled like a drowned frog, flopping out of the medicine den. The clerics stood to the side of the den and gawked at the sight. Elmsprout, who had been dutifully on guard duty outside, rushed back into camp.

“What is that?” she yowled as the ichor bubbled and gurgled. A solid form crawled out of the ichor like a cat crawled over a cliff’s edge to save themselves from a long fall. Each feature was sharp, pointed like fangs but thick like shadows over mud. Yellow eyes, the same eyes Anchovykit had seen for the last season in Rattlepelt’s glare, burst to life along the Shardling’s angular face. It mimicked long fur with slick tendrils of ichor and darkness. Its bile stained the sand with fat, sloppy drops. Anchovykit tried to stop his tail from slinking between his legs, from cowering behind Downstar, but he could not stop himself. The Shardling’s wicked stare settled on the nursery.

“Weeeeeeeeeeeeedfoooooooooooooot!” the Shardling screeched. Its cry was claws against bark, crumbling stones and screeching bats. Before anyone could stop it, the Shardling raced into the nursery.

[Image ID: Weevilkit asks Anchovykit and Wolfkit, “Does this make us… heroes?”]

Yowling instantly enveloped the nursery. Ravenkit and Silverkit scrambled out of the den with their mother at their heels. Waspdawn, Elmsprout, and Downstar charged into the chaos. There was no choice in the matter; Anchovykit, Weevilkit, and Wolfkit followed, despite how hard their hearts pounded. 

The nursery was a thunderstorm over a raging sea. Anchovykit’s friends and littermates scrambled over each other as the Shardling ran and tripped through the nursery. The queens scrambled from their sleep, still trying to grasp what stood before them. The Shardling sneered at Weedfoot, who sat in the far back of the den. Her two tiny kits, one red, one black, mewed loudly, disturbed but unaware of the danger that lurked nearby.

“You can do it, Harvest!” Weevilkit yowled. A few seconds later, Anchovykit’s mother fulfilled Weevilkit’s prophecy. She pounced on the Shardling, screeching louder than anything Anchovykit had heard before.

“Everyone, out!” Downstar ordered. She ushered Clammask and her kits around the fight, navigating through what little room remained in the den.

“I’ll help, Mom!” someone in the horde of kits yowled. As Yarrowkit, Billowkit, and Currentkit watched as their mother spun around the den, claws locked into the monster, Robinkit charged into the fight.

“Get back!” Waspdawn roared. He shoved into the nursery, but tripped over Boughkit and Brightkit, laying curled and terrified near the exit. His large body blocked most of the scene.

“Robinkit, run!” Harvest cried. The Shardling slammed her jaw into the rock wall. Still, even with a splatter of blood staining the wall, Harvest launched back into the fight. Anchovykit could hear his brother somewhere in the mix, but had no idea what was happening to him.

“We’re smaller,” Weevilkit said, batting at Downstar’s shoulder to catch her eye. “We can get through this! We can grab the other kits!”

“You’re not apprentices yet!” Downstar snapped. At that moment, Anchovykit decided he’d take a hundred punishments from Downstar if it meant no one else got hurt.

Anchovykit dove under Waspdawn’s legs and snatched Brightkit by the leg. No time to be gentle, his denmate had to leave. He dragged Brightkit out of the den and into Weevilkit. Wolfkit lunged through the gap formed in the kit’s absence and slipped into the den.

Waspdawn grabbed Boughkit and set her beside her brother. As he moved, Anchovykit raced inside. Waspdawn ran for his kits, who screamed in their nest. Wolfkit ran face-first into Thunderkit; Foamkit and Wolverinekit ran about wildly, searching for a way around the battle rolling through the den.

“Follow me!” Wolfkit yowled. She spun back and ran out the way she came. Thunderkit, Foamkit, and Wolverinekit scrambled after their savior. Weevilkit lunged in just as Wolverinekit ran out to her littermates.

“Leave, mousebrains!” Weevilkit yowled at Anchovykit’s siblings. Billowkit and Yarrowkit hissed and shook, unable to look away the Shardling that tore its claws through Harvest’s pelt. But where was Currentkit? Anchovykit could hear his sappy little brother crying somewhere on the other side of the fight.

But it was only when Harvest kicked the Shardling aside that Anchovykit realized he no longer heard Robinkit.

Currentkit wailed over Robinkit’s body. His red face was redder than ever before, dyed with his own blood. A frozen, panicked gaze clung sightlessly to Anchovykit. Ichor dripped from Robinkit’s claws. Currentkit shook Robinkit, choking on his own cries. Anchovykit nearly vomited from the overwhelming stench of rot and mushrooms in the den.

Harvest and the Shardling rolled back, concealing Anchovykit’s dead brother once more. Anchovykit instinctively pressed closer to Yarrowkit and Billowkit, the shock of the scene before him yet to pierce into his heart as reality. Wolfkit and Weevilkit had found their way to Weedfoot, still weak from her kitting only a quarter moon ago. Weevilkit helped Weedfoot to her paws as the Shardling gorged massive lines down Harvest’s shoulder. Anchovykit yowled as his mother cried out.

“Wolfkit, the stare!” Weevilkit screamed, throwing herself over Lightningkit and Cobaltkit. “Do the stare!”

“There’s too much happening!” Wolfkit whined.

“Just do it!” Weevilkit yowled. Wolfkit dug her paws in. She squeezed her eyes tight, panting hard. Waspdawn pulled Harvest aside and ducked as Downstar flew into the nursery. The tortoiseshell leader slammed the Shardling down. Waspdawn pinned its flank, but even the might of two strong cats would not hold it for long. The Shardling bubbled and squirmed, as slippery as a fish, threatening to lift the pair off the ground.

“Wolfkit!” Weevilkit cried. Wolfkit opened her eyes. The fear that had plagued the kit all day was gone. Instead, when Anchovykit looked in Wolfkit’s eyes, he saw burning grass, a raging wildfire focused entirely on the Shardling.

The Shardling stopped moving. It froze with one paw twisted toward Downstar, ready to claw her eyes out. Its squirming, sticky pelt stilled. The hate in its yellow eyes no longer burned, but stabbed; consistent, unmoving, but still powerful. Downstar and Waspdawn panted hard, catching their breath, shaking. Harvest’s surviving kits could not look away from the monster that killed their brother. That was, not until Downstar chomped down on the Shardling’s neck.

The Shardling’s form shivered with the impact of Downstar’s fangs. Waspdawn dug into its slimy torso. Wolfkit broke her stare, squirming at the sight. Not that it mattered anymore. As Downstar tightened her grip, the Shardling began to dissolve. Its form sunk underneath Downstar and Waspdawn. The ichor oozed into the leather and sand lining the nursery. Soon, nothing remained of the horror but sticky, reeking piles of gunk. A huge crowd stood outside, yowling and trying to figure out what was unfolding inside.

“Mom,” Yarrowkit gasped. 

Anchovykit, Billowkit, Currentkit, and Yarrowkit scrambled across the den. Their paws stuck to the stained leather. Harvest laid in Waspdawn’s nest, blood oozing from her mouth. Her jaw laid broken, claw wounds staining her white markings. She breathed hard, but her green eyes remained clear, wide and shaking.

“Mom,” Currentkit sobbed as Waspdawn helped Weedfoot, Weevilkit, and Wolfkit carry the newborns outside. “Mom, Robin’s…”

“I’m sorry,” Anchovykit gulped. He pressed his paws into the large wound on Harvest’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mom. We were getting the Shardling out of Rattlepelt, I don’t know why it wanted Weedfoot.”

“What are you talking about?” Billowkit cried, sneering at his brother.

“Troutpool!” Weevilkit yowled outside. “Honeybuzz!” Harvest groaned, broken jaw twitching. Anchovykit leaned close. It was hard to understand what his mother said, but each word stunned regardless.

“You were brave,” Harvest said. “Keep being brave for me.” 

“Mom—” Anchovykit whined. Suddenly, Honeybuzz’s white paw pulled him back. He and Troutpool nudged the kits back, surrounding Harvest with baskets of medicine. Honeybuzz put his ear to Harvest’s mouth. When he didn’t stand up, Anchovykit knew his mother was gone.

Anchovykit ran outside, shoving through his Clan. Downstar herded Weevilkit and Wolfkit into her den. Anchovykit ran blind after them, cats shoving against him. Downstar looped her tail around Anchovykit as soon as he entered her den, gently nudging him toward her nest in the large, old, wooden box.

“The three of you, take a moment,” Downstar huffed. “I’m going to stand outside and answer everyone’s questions. You tell me when you want to see anyone. I promise, you all did well, you aren’t in trouble. I’ll explain everything to the Clan. Everything will be alright.” Downstar crept backward out of the den as RippleClan called her name, trying to figure out how exactly two of their Clanmates ended up dead, what just stormed through the nursery.

“Does this make us…” Weevilkit muttered, “heroes?”

“Anchovy,” Wolfkit whined, bunting Anchovykit’s side, “I’m so sorry. I should have frozen the Shardling sooner.” 

Downstar’s den glowed. As the heavy weight of loss sank deeper and deeper in Anchovykit’s lungs, soft light danced around the walls of the den. It was so much like the glow that covered Weevilkit and Wolfkit, but purer. Brighter. Calmer. It enveloped the leader’s den, spreading like a wave. Anchovykit’s weight stuck in his throat at the sight. Weevilkit didn’t see it, he was sure of that; the darkness of the night’s events still clouded her gaze. But it was like all of Silverpelt came down to say, “We know tonight was hard. We’re sorry we took them.” No, that wasn’t what they said. “We’re sorry we left.”

But with how Anchovykit saw the world, they never really would leave, would they?

(Anchovykit: 5, male, kit, charming, curious about StarClan)

(Mitespark: 12, female, artisan, charismatic, good mediator) 

(Rattlepelt: 53, female, artisan, bloodthirsty, leather artist)

(Troutpool: 31, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Weevilkit: 5, female, kit, bullying, curious about StarClan)

(Downstar: 129, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Wolfkit: 5, female, kit, polite, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Honeybuzz: 18, male, cleric, daring, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Estherfern: 104, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Waspdawn: 36, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Elmsprout: 37, female, caretaker, charismatic, helpful insight)

(Harvest: 58, female, queen, nervous, good fighter)

(Robinkit: 5, male, kit, unruly, avid play-fighter)

(Currentkit: 5, male, kit, polite, constantly climbing, has lots of ideas)

(Yarrowkit: 5, female, kit, noisy, stares at fire)

(Billowkit: 5, male, kit, bossy, active imagination)

[mercuryclan]

Moon 2 of MercuryClan! Not half as much drama as last moon!

Let's hope Palestar takes Lakewater's advice in the future...that hair trigger needs to be put to bed.

More importantly, lesbians? Lesbians.

Other events:

Lakewater found more lungwort, and Snailshell missed a mouse. Lake also gained the Great Speaker trait? Good for him.

[esevoire]

Crow’s Carrion cast~

  i guess i must have forgotten to post this one, i think???, but here are a few characters from my new fanfic, "crow's carrion"

in order, they are: ripplestar, eveningshell, riverflower, and eelmask!

i planned on doing a page full of these, and wanted to do all of the rushclan cast, but im not sure ill get to that now ;,)

read about them below!

Ripplestar //

Daughter to Brambletuft (of BlazeClan) and Minnowbrook, sister to Reedtuft and Sleekthistle, she’s the oldest cat in RushClan. She’s spent most of her leadership fixing the political relationships that the previous leader, Wolfstar destroyed. She's also, sort of, the adoptive mother of Darkshadow and Runningblaze!

Eveningshell //

Daughter to Lilypetal and Waspcatcher (of NightClan), sister to Daceclaw, Eveningshell (or “Eve”) is the current deputy of RushClan. She’s rather young at only 37 moons old and hasn’t yet had an apprentice, but virtually everyone approves of her deputyship.

Riverflower //

Daughter of Mudbreath and Clancy, sister to Lilypetal and Webheart, Riverflower is the current healer of RushClan. She’s also the mother of Poolkit and Currentkit, who Wavedance has helped raise. Some of the warriors say she’s looking for an apprentice, as the conflict with NightClan has made her duties hard to keep up with alone.

Eelmask //

Eelmask is one of the eldest warriors at only 40 moons old. She’s the only child of Pebblestream, and as such is the only direct descendant of Wolfstar, though she hates to bring it up. She likes to bring fish and trinkets to the kits in the nursery.

[warriors-name-generator]

Hello again! Coming in with another ask haha! Can I have hypothetical kits for Smokewhisp- Large dark ginger she-cat with a wishbone-shaped scar on her face and amber eyes and Plumtalon- Dark grey she-cat with one floppy ear and blue eyes. On Smokewhisp's side, cream is the dominant color and ginger patches are common, full ginger is recessive. Hope that last piece helps some!

Guppykit: a large, mostly blue dilute torbie kit.  they have a cream colored tail, cream freckles on their face and a larger smudge of cream on the left side of their face.  they have light blue eyes that are often compared to a stream.

Shallowkit: a dark torbie she-kit with large ginger patches.  her entire face is ginger colored and she has a large ginger patch on her back.  she has dark amber colored eyes and both of her ears are floppy. 

Currentkit:  a blue furred tom-kit with extremely pale stripes that almost blend in with the rest of his pelt.  the tip of his right ear is slightly floppy although it’s hardly noticeable.  he has bright amber coloured eyes.            

[signs-of-the-moon]

Moon High: Chapter 8

Hazepaw's belly was feeling funny when he made it back to the Twoleg Settlement Bridge. The sensation had started not long ago, but he couldn't understand what was causing it. It wasn't painful, thank Starclan, but it wasn't comfortable either. And since he wasn't suffering, Hazepaw decided not to see Curlear or Bluesky about it. Still, he'd like to know what it was. Maybe he had to make dirt? But Hazepaw hadn't eaten anything today, to ensure his senses would be sharp for his solo hunt. Perhaps he was hungry? The growl rumbling in his gut confirmed this suspicion. Hazepaw decided once he gave his mouse to Beckycreek, he'd grab something for himself. Then he could finally start to feel better.

But thinking about the mouse made Hazepaw's belly feel a little bit worse. It reminded him that this prey was not actually his. It was that Treeclan cat's--Moonpaw's. Did that mean it was actually guilt that he was feeling? No. Hazepaw knew what the twist in his belly felt like when he was guilty. This sensation wasn't as sharp, or nauseating. The feeling in Hazepaw's stomach felt as though he'd swallowed a school of tiny fish. It was like they were swimming around in there, their tail fins brushing against his intestines in a way that almost tickled. It was really annoying. Hazepaw tried to push the feeling away as he padded across the camp, up to the abandoned car that made up the nursery.

Inside were the den's remaining residents. Richfur, the Den Mother, was sunbathing up on the flat platform next to the car's front window. And in the makeshift nests below, Beckycreek was busy cleaning her youngest kits. She was diligent in her work, hardly registering the apprentice's appearance. Her older kits, however, took notice.

"Woo, it's Hazepaw!" Cheered the only tom of the litter, Currentkit. He rushed over to greet the fluffy white apprentice, tail held high. His sister Stonekit came crawling out from beneath one of the nests to join him. The last of the litter, Whisperkit, watched from her perch overtop the nests, excitement glittering in her soft yellow eyes. Hazepaw nodded a greeting to each of them as he walked over to their mother.

"This is for you," he told the queen as he placed his prized mouse in front of her.

Beckycreek purred with gratitude. "Thank you, Hazepaw. It was kind of you to bring us something to eat." Grabbing the mouse, Beckycreek called for the attention of her younger kittens, Turtlekit and Duckkit. "Look my loves, here is some prey for you to try."

Whisperkit leaped down from her perch, into her mother's nest. She smiled, raising her tail. Beckycreek did not look pleased to have the older kitten in her space. "May I have some of that too, mom?" Whisperkit asked sweetly. Her littermates exchanged a look then ran for the nursery's exit.

Beckycreek remained silent for a few moments, tearing off chunks of her meal to share with her little ones. She almost seemed to be ignoring Whisperkit. "This isn't for you," she meowed eventually, voice monotone. "You're old enough to eat on your own anyways." Whisperkit's eyes watered a little.

So Beckycreek isn't going to share? Hazepaw felt a little shocked. Although he shouldn't, considering the queen usually gave her oldest litter the cold shoulder. He could hardly remember a time when she was genuinely comforting towards them. She was good at mothering, that much was certain; but she wasn't a very good mother. At least not to them. Turtlekit and Duckkit, however, were treated with the utmost love and care. It was strange. Hazepaw couldn't wrap his mind around why Beckycreek would show more favor for one litter over another. Maybe it had something to do with their fathers.

"Here sissy, share with me!" Squeaked Duckkit at Whisperkit, pushing her piece of prey closer to her older sister.

Whisperkit purred at the kit, perking up a little. But when she reached out to take her share, Beckycreek growled at her, pullling Duckkit back and snatching up her portion of the mouse. Whisperkit's ears lowered, and although she looked sad, she didn't seem surprised by the queen's actions. A pang of smpathy squeezed Hazepaw's heart.

"Hey, why don't you come share something with me outside?" He offered, touching his tail-tip to her back. Whisperkit smiled at him a little and nodded. She followed behind as the fluffy white tom took his leave without saying another word to Beckycreek.

Over by the fresh-kill pile, Urchinpaw and Otterpaw were sharing tongues, with a half eaten seagull sitting in front of them. Whisperkit padded in their direction while Hazepaw fell behind apprehensivly.

"What about this fish?" Whisperkit suggested, turning to meet Hazepaw's gaze.

Hazepaw gave a shrug. "Doesn't matter to me. Food is food."

Whisperkit giggled in response. She grabbed the fish by its tail and dragged it from the fresh-kill pile. It was fairly large, it probably took two cats to fish it out judging by its size. Whisperkit was struggling to move it on her own. So Hazepaw padded over to help, carrying it with her about a fox-length away.

"Aww, look at that," Urchinpaw crooned mockingly from the sidelines. "Hazepaw's finally learning to play nice with others!"

"I never thought I'd see the day," chimed Otterpaw, lifting a paw to her muzzle. She was pretending to suppress a giggle. "I was sure hedgehogs would fly before he would be nice to anyone besides himself."

"Guess we'd better go and look for those hedgehogs then!"

Hazepaw growled in annoyance. He tried to keep his calm, really he did, but the obnoxious laughter of his denmates set him off. "Yknow what, that sounds like a great date idea for you two!" He sneered, forcing a malicious smile to curve the corners of his muzzle. "And while you're at it, you can talk about the names of your future kits together. I'm sure they'll be just as loud mouthed as stupid as you both."

Urchinpaw let out a snort, while Otterpaw gave him an indignat look.

"Hazepaw..." Whisperkit mewed in a warning but wary tone. Hazepaw wanted nothing more than to continue making fun of the other apprentices. To make them pay for their attempt at bullying. But that wasn't what he'd originally planned to do. He was trying to cheer up Whisperkit; and it was clear she wasn't having as much fun with being a jerk as he was. So, when he heard her tone, he dropped the conversation, returning his attention to the little gray tabby.

~~~

As the day grew older, dark foreboding clouds gathered in the sky. The once warm, inviting afternoon turned into a cold, windy evening. A few drops of rain began to trickle through the roof over Oceanclan's head. Warriors hurried back to camp as the weather grew violent just outside their sheltered home. It would be too dangerous to fish now, with the ocean's waves crashing in the storm. And the rain seemed to come down in sheets like ice over a river. It was hard for a cat to see past their own nose out there.

Hazepaw fluffed up his pelt as he made his way to the apprentice's den. He squeezed his way past the two large boulders, and down the small slope to where his nest was placed. The clan's other apprentices were there as well, settling down for the evening. A rumble of vocal commotion echoed off the den's walls, as the young cats spoke of adventures and accomplishments earned in the day. Urchinpaw and Otterpaw were being particularly obnoxious. But they silenced themselves once Hazepaw came into the den. They shot him indignat glares; waiting for him to lay down before continuing their conversation. Their voices became hushed, and their eyes drifted on occasion back towards the fluffy white tom. It was obvious they were talking about him, from the giggles they made after each glance. Hazepaw huffed, tucking his face beneath his tail, trying to block the pair of annoying furballs out. He was relieved when sleep came to him. Only the sound of rain echoed in his mind as he drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

When he awoke the next morning, the loud thrum of the downpour remained overhead. A few claps of thunder sounded, nearly shaking the den Hazepaw laid in. With a hardy stretch, the white tom rose to his paws and pushed his way into the camp. Outside, the sand underpaw was soaked. The camp looked to have turned into a giant puddle overnight. The salt in the air made it obvious that the ocean had a part to play in it. It must have flooded while everyone was asleep. And the rhythmic push and pull of the tides sounded closer to home than ever before. If he were to venture out, Hazepaw bet he could spot the waves lapping at the edges of the Twoleg Settlement Bridge.

"Let all cats strong enough to brace the ocean's waves gather here beneath the Mighty Dune for a clan meeting," Wavestar called, his voice muffled beneath another rumble of thunder. Hazepaw practically had to wade to make his way to the meeting. By the time he reached the dune's base, his underbelly was heavy and soaked. But he stood tall, listening to what his leader had to say.

"As we get further into the season of Newleaf, so too do we enter one of the hardest times of year for our clan. I can tell by the churning of the waves and the darkness overheard, that things will become more dangerous for Oceanclan. And so, I have decided that we will be moving to the Forest Patch, until the worst of the storms have blown over."

"When will we make the move?" Ripplesnout, one of the senior warriors asked.

"We must evacuate at once. Apprentices need to help the elders along the journey. All available and former queens will be carrying the clan's kits."

Oceanclan was moving? Hazepaw was shocked to say the least. He'd never heard of the clan retreating to the Forest Patch for more than a day or two to escape the storms. But from the sounds of it, Wavestar planned for the clan to stay in the woods until the end of the season. But that would be moons from now. And they were Oceanclan, for Silverpelt's sake! They weren't meant to live among the foliage and trees like most of the other clans did. How would the warriors fish, being so far away from the ocean? Would they be expected to eat land prey all the time now? Hazepaw didn't like the thought of that.

"Let's go, Hazepaw!" Samson, one of the older apprentices caterwauled, pulling Hazepaw out of his thoughts. "We can't be wasting time daydreaming while the weather's getting worse. Sandybreeze wants you to walk with Tunafin on the journey."

Hazepaw resisted the urge to bristle. He didn't want to take orders from another apprentice; muchless a former kittypet. But Samson said the orders were from Sandybreeze. And if that were true, Hazepaw knew he'd be in trouble if he ignored them. So, with a huff, the fluffy white tom splashed his way over to the elder's den. All while wondering why his mentor couldn't come talk to him herself.

As he padded along, Hazepaw spotted Sandybreeze by the nursery. With one paw on the edge of the deceased car, she waited as Richfur passed along kits to be set aside and taken to the new camp. Hazepaw instantly understood why his mentor had to delegate instructions to others to pass along. She was doing her job as a deputy. Protecting the clan, while ensuring everything ran smoothly. Hazepaw hoped to have the same opportunity one day.

Wasting no more time, Hazepaw ducked his head beneath the overturned boat to find the elder, Tunafin. The old tom was still curled up in his nest, sound asleep. He hadn't heard Wavestar's announcement, likely dozing through the entire meeting.

"Ey, Tunafin!" Hazepaw called, only to be met with snores. "Tunafiiiin!"

The old silver tabby stirred with a cough, shooting an angry glare over his shoulder, before tucking himself back into his nest. Hazepaw growled in frustration. He moved under the den, grabbing the old cat by his scruff.

"Wavestar's ordered an evacuation. Let's go!"

Tunafin jolted, swinging around with unsheathed claws. He aimed for Hazepaw, striking him in the muzzle. The white tom dropped the elder at once with a yelp.

"What'stha big idea handlin' me like that, ya lil' barnacle?" Tunafin snapped with nostrils flared.

"You wouldn't get up!" Hazepaw argued backed.

"Ya couldn't 'ave one of ma denmates come an' wake me instead of ya rude self?"

"No! Sandybreeze told me I have to be your escort. It's too dangerous for an old gull like you to travel alone. Besides, the other elders are being moved to the Forest Patch already. It's just you an' me now."

"Ya don' say?" Tunafin mused. He gave his pelt a shake, then stood as tall as he could. He gave another cough then drew himself toward Hazepaw. "Ya know ya could'a just said that earlier. A'right then, youngin'. Let's get a move on."

Finally, Hazepaw wanted to sigh with relief. Instead, he flanked Tunafin, helping the elder make his way out of the den and into the camp.

The remaining members of the clan were there, gathered by the edge of the clearing. They braced themselves for the journey across the territory, with fur fluffed. Then, bravely, they made their way into the storm. Oh great, we're probably the last cats to leave, Hazepaw griped in his mind, following the tail of Puddlefur as he nearly slipped from sight.

"Good gracious! Ah haven' seen a storm as narly as this since ah was a 'Paw!" Tunafin piped, an eye closed and ears flat as the rain assaulted him. Hazepaw, too, cringed in the face of the storm. The raindrops struck hard in the whipping wind, searing the skin beneath his thick pelt. His ears tingled from the stinging cold; sight blurry in the poor conditions. Sediment and rain slaptter created a fine mist all around them, making navigation difficult. Only the warmth of the elder by his side, and the silhouettes of his clanmates ahead, made Hazepaw push through.

"Has anybody seen Shellsplash?" Kinkfoot called, pausing to whip her head around and search the faces of her clanmates.

"Wasn't she with Puddlefur?" Caterwauled Clamleg in reply as he passed, head lowered.

"Yeah! She went on the hunting patrol!" Seaweedfang chimed in.

"I didn't see her come back," Puddlefur answered. "But she mentioned wanting to stay out later. Maybe she's still hunting?"

"In this weather? She's crazy!" Scoffed Kinkfoot with a disapproving pelt shake.

"It doesn't matter. We'll have to look for her later," Clamleg decided, with the other warriors grunting in agreement.

At Hazepaw's side, Tunafin began to pant. His body shook, tongue sticking out of his mouth. Despite the cold, the old tom appeared to be overheating. Or fatigued.

"You ok?" Hazepaw asked the elder.

Tunafin glanced at him the best he could, eyes dull. "A bit worn already. But ah'll make it," he answered back simply. But his movements were growing more sluggish by the heartbeat. Tunafin began coughing once again, the sound rattling in his ribcage. I hope you're right, Hazepaw held back the words, allowing the old tom to lean against him more.

Ahead, just past the edge of the beach, a barely visible wall appeared. It became clearer with each step taken, and the shape of trees grew more defined. They'd nearly made it to the Forest Patch. It was only a couple of tree-lenths away now.

The ground squished uncomfortably underpaw as Hazepaw took his first steps into the woods. But the rain suddenly felt ordinary as stood beneath the cover of leaves. And tree trunks blocked the worst of the wind, making the storm much more tolerable. The discomfort he felt upon arrival had become quashed by an overwhelming sense of relief. No wonder why Treeclan loves the forest so much. Maybe the next few moons wouldn't be so bad.

"We're almost to the camp!" Hazepaw heard a warrior announce along the winding path ahead.

"You hear that, Tunafin?" Hazepaw checked. But the elder shook his head. He stopped suddenly, sitting down in the mulch.

"Yeah. Jus'-Jus'...gimme a moment," he requested, his panting turned into labored breaths. Hazepaw paused beside him, watching Tunafin go from his seated position to a lay in a few heartbeats. His head lowered to his paws; propped in an awkward position. He was starting to smell strange; like sickness.

"Maybe I should go on ahead?" Hazepaw wondered aloud. "You need to be seen by a medicine cat. I can get one."

Tunafin shrugged, prompting Hazepaw to go through with his plan.

"Keep an eye on Tunafin for me," he asked Seaweedfang as he passed by with urgency in his step. "I need to get Curlear." Hazepaw wasted no time to listen for the warrior's response. He sprinted past a few other clanmates, searching for a healer.

At the entrance to the temporary camp, Bluesky and Sharktooth stood, taking a count of each cat who came through. They each greeted Hazepaw as he approached, a bit confused by his rush.

"Tunafin needs assistance," Hazepaw told Bluesky, turning on his paws immediately to lead him to the elder. Bluesky and Sharktooth shared a glance before the blue-gray tom followed to see his new patient.

As the pair approached where Tunafin was settled, Seaweedfang padded over to meet them. A grim expression was set on her face, and Hazepaw could feel his heartbeat pounding. Bluesky nodded his head, following the warrior to the old tom's side. Tunafin was laying on his flank now, his mouth agape slightly. Yet no breath came in or out. His eyes were still open, glazed over with a telltale sign of his passing.

"Did he say anything?" Was all that the medicine cat asked.

"He said 'I'm so tired.'" Seaweedfang replied, voice low.

And that was it? Hazepaw thought, trying to stop his legs from trembling. This would be his first encounter with death. Hazepaw had never thought a cat would treat it so casually. Yet Bluesky and Seaweedfang seemed hardened to the sight of it. Perhaps it was because Tunafin's demise could be considered "peaceful", compared to many other cats. Perhaps the older cats were used to seeing corpses. But Hazepaw felt sick at the sight. Tunafin had been fine a short while ago. And now?

"Go ahead of us, Hazepaw. Give the news to Wavestar. Seaweedfang and I will bring Tunafin home." Bluesky rested his tail on the younger cats shoulders. It was clear the healer had taken notice of the young tom's discomfort. "Maybe speak to the queens, as well."

Hazepaw almost felt relieved being sent ahead. It gave him some time to process what he had seen. As he entered into the temporary camp, he could hear Urchinpaw's voice calling to him. Yet it sounded so distant, even as the black tom approached him.

"What's gotten into you? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Urchinpaw teased, tapping Hazepaw's shoulder with a paw. Hazepaw gave back a hollow glare, then kept moving. Urchinpaw seemed to pause at this, and Hazepaw could feel his heavy gaze baring into the back of his head.

"Hazepaw?" Wavestar questioned, as he noticed the look the young apprentice wore. He glanced over his shoulder, probably to Urchinpaw, then gave his attention back to the other tom as he approached.

"Tunafin died on the journey here. Bluesky and Seaweedfang are bringing him to camp," he stated, voice monotone. Hazepaw didn't know how to feel in that moment. But whatever emotion it was, it wasn't pleasant. He hadn't been close to Tunafin in the slightest. But he'd never wanted to see him dead either. He didn't want to see any cat dead.

Wavestar grunted. "I knew he was not long for this world. But...I didn't think it would happen this soon. Thank you for informing me." Hazepaw nodded numbly, turning around to settle himself somewhere relatively isolated and dry. He laid on his belly, setting his chin upon his paws. If he closed his eyes, he could see the blank stare of the elder; the light that had been present only moments before, gone. Hazepaw shivered. Then, he felt warmth against his side. Hazepaw nearly jumped out of his fur, settling as Otterpaw fixed him with an odd look.

"I overheard the news you shared with Wavestar," she explained. "I'm sorry you had to experience that. Its always hard to lose a clanmate. Even if you aren't close with them." Otterpaw sounded wise beyond her years. Hazepaw wondered what she had gone through in her time living with Grassclan.

By the camp's entrance, Hazepaw spotted Bluesky and Seaweedfang dragging Tunafin's body. They set the old tom in a dry spot in the clearing, then went back to their assigned duties. Only Wavestar came to sit beside the elder, along with Sharktooth. But the two kept a respectful dictance, only bowing their heads to honor the old warrior.

"Was Tunafin not well liked?" Otterpaw piped suddenly, her eyes trained on the body of the silver tabby.

"He was highly respected," was Hazepaw's response.

"Then why isn't anyone sitting vigil?" Questioned Otterpaw, her voice low.

"I don't think he has any living kin." Hazepaw shrugged, licking his shoulder fur.

"Is that how it works here? Only those related will mourn the loss of a dead cat?" Otterpaw scoffed, rising to her paws. "Oceanclan is so strange." With that, she padded over to where Tunafin laid. She bowed her head next to his, speaking something into the elder's ear that Hazepaw couldn't hear. She remained with Tunafin for a good few heartbeats. Then she gave the old silver tabby a respectful lick on the shoulder before returning to Hazepaw's side.

Hazepaw stared at her, perplexed. Why had she gone over to Tunafin like that? He wasn't anything to Otterpaw.

"He was our clanmate. He deserved to be wished well on his journey to Starclan," she answered his unspoken question. Hazepaw grunted, trying his hardest to seem understanding of her actions. But an awkward silence fell over the pair. In it, Hazepaw's thoughts began to drift towards darkness; of the future, of the fate of the cats around him. But before he could spiral too deep into despair, Otterpaw spoke once more;

"Yknow, at times like this, we should look on the bright side of things. That's what my foster father taught me. Tunafin lived a long life. And the clan is strong, thanks to his seasons of dedication. Life will go on, because he gave his."

Hazepaw hummed thoughtfully. He'd never considered things that way before. As he glanced around, deep in his contemplation, Hazepaw realized that Otterpaw was right.

Den Keepers were busy constructing shelters from surrounding shrubs and tree branches. Curlear sat beneath a lopsided birch sorting through whatever herbs he'd brought to the new camp. Currentkit and Stonekit were playing tag, getting under warriors' paws. Across the way, Bluesky was checking Sunnystream's belly, with Whisperkit watching attentively. The two mewed with delight as they discovered a litter of kits would soon join Oceanclan's ranks. Life indeed went on. And though a heaviness still sat in Hazepaw's chest, a blossom of hope grew in his heart. The future wasn't so dim. And the odd feeling in his belly from yesterday finally dissolved.

[meadow-brook]

FinClan Allegiances

Leader: Finstar - an unusually dappled pale and white tom

Deputy: Chestnutback - a long-furred dorsal-striped cream she-cat APPRENTICE: Saplingpaw

Medicine Cat: Olivepelt - a ginger smoke she-cat

Warriors:

Stonedazzle - an unusually spotted grey she-cat

Leapshock - an unusually dappled dark grey she-cat

Snailbounce - an unusually dappled black and white tom

Firebird - a dark ginger tabby tom

Lightshimmer - a light brown tabby tom

Apprentices:

Saplingpaw - a dark brown and white tom

Queens and Kits:

Currentkit - a white and unusually spotted ginger tom

Cats Outside the Clan:

Dewey - a grey bengal tabby tom who lives in a library with twolegs

[needleclanclangen]

MOON 4 - CEREMONY

"All cats of Needleclan, gather for a Clan Meeting!"

Speckleback glanced up from the medicine cat den.  Currentkit pushed Riverkit towards the center of the camp, and Riverkit whined. A red leaf drifted from a branch above Finchstar, and the leader watched as it twirled around, eventually landing on Lichenpaw's head.

Hollypaw watched from the medicine den, looking a little irritated. Speckleback was keeping him confined to the medicine cat den, despite the fact that he wasn't woozy anymore. At least he was paying attention. 

Daisyshadow poked out a head from the nursery. Whiskershadow glanced up from the fresh-kill pile, which was nearby.

Good.

"I have the honor of stating that today, we have our very first warrior promotion!" Finchstar purred, meeting eyes with Lichenpaw. She hopped down from a tree branch. "It has been my pleasure to have trained Lichenpaw, even before we were a part of a Clan. Her judgment has been vital to her protecting our clan." 

Finchstar hopped down from the tree completely, walking towards Lichenpaw. They were on the same eye level, now. "Lichenpaw, by the powers of me being leader, I name you Lichentooth."

Lichentooth looked almost surprised. 

Finchstar purred, touching noses with Lichentooth before backing away.

Hollypaw was the first to cheer, "LICHENTOOTH!" The other cats followed, even the kits after a few moments. It was small, so Finchstar joined in. Lichentooth stood in the center of it, shrinking a little but still smiling.

Once the cheering had stopped, Finchstar continued, "Now, for the second task of today..." Finchstar met eyes with Riverkit and Currentkit. Currentkit bounced up and down, and Riverkit nudged his shoulder to get him to stop. "Riverkit and Currentkit. You two have reached six moons, and are therefore now apprentices. Until you are trained fully, you will be called Riverpaw and Currentpaw."

Currentpaw grinned. "I'm Riverpaw, right?"

Riverpaw shook her head, still smiling a bit herself. 

Finchstar jumped up onto the roots that made up the entrance to her den. She didn't jump back up to the higher branches again. "No, Currentpaw. Now..." Finchstar met eyes with Whiskershadow, and her deputy straightened up. "Whiskershadow. As my new deputy, you haven't yet explored everything about the territory due to being confined to camp." She grinned. "You might as well explore it with an apprentice." She was not going to bring up how Lightningpaw was once his apprentice, as well. "You will be Riverpaw's mentor."

Riverpaw got up, blue and green eyes sparkling despite the deceptive calmness to her movements, and walked over to Whiskershadow. She reached up to Whiskershadow's nose, and Whiskershadow leaned down to meet her. After that, she moved to sit by him.

"...Lichentooth."

Lichentooth straightened up upon being called again. "...me?"

"Yes. Your judgement is excellent, and your calm nature would help with teaching." Finchstar paused. "I think it does, anyway. You will be mentoring Currentpaw."

Currentpaw gasped, then jumped and dashed over to Lichentooth, stopping just in front of her. "I get to be your first apprentice!"

Lichentooth still looked a little shocked. "Are you... are you sure?"

"Confident." Finchstar nodded. "You'll do great, Lichentooth. I know you can."

Lichentooth didn't seem convinced. But she leaned down to touch noses with Currentpaw, who vibrated in his spot. He then sat down right there, only turning to look at Finchstar again.

Finchstar held her head up. "Clan meeting is over!" She hopped off the root, heading for the fresh-kill pile. "Why don't you go get acquainted with your apprentices?"

As Finchstar reached down to grab a bird from the pile, she heard Riverpaw ask Whiskershadow about gathering fresh bedding for everyone. After a few moments, she heard Currentpaw turn and whine at Lichentooth to NOT do that.

Events Referenced: Lichenpaw gets promoted to a warrior. Finchstar says it's been an honor to train her, and names Lichenpaw Lichentooth, and commends her judgement. Riverkit becomes Riverpaw and gets assigned to Whiskershadow. She offers to immediately start gathering bedding. Currentkit is so excited to become Currentpaw, and is assigned to Lichentooth.