#fogpaw

[wolfix-does-stuff]

Fanart from some of my fav comics! Hope y’all like it :>

Bugstorm from @vaporclan - Someone needs to give him a hug (besides Butterfly. Butterfly you traitor)

Lavenderstar from @ashpaw-is-alone - 👁️👁️

Twistedeyes from @fog-and-the-frost - I love her she’s so silly, so excited for this comic to come back!

Kingfur from @loudclan-clangen - I just think his design is nice :>

Egrettail from @barrenclan - Her!! Gonna miss this comic

Riptide from @the-exiled-comic - he’s not really featured in the comic so far but who cares lol. The borblo scrimply!

Fogpaw from @clangenrising - She’s gotten so big :’) love your writing!

Brackenshine from @glitterclan - tbh her and her siblings all need therapy (Rip falconshine)

Unshaded under the cut!

[nimbusclan]

Moon 2

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“Moonpaw, wake up. We have to keep moving. Moonpaw.” 

Moonpaw mrrps in sleepy protest as she's jostled awake by her brother's paw digging insistently into her shoulder. She cracks one bleary eye open, momentarily disoriented by her surroundings. 

Right. They’re not at home. They don't have a home.

She stands, stiff from sleeping on bark, her muscles protesting as she arches her back and stretches her legs. The sun that slots into their log from an opening at the top paints the inside in streaks of rich reds and browns, so different from the cool, smooth stone she’s used to waking up to. She misses her moss nest fiercely in that moment, the weight of her grief threatening to overwhelm her, but she forces the feeling away with a shake of her head. There is no comfortable, warm nest for her to return to. Not now, not ever, and she needs to move on.

“Coming,” she mumbles sleepily, rubbing a paw against her eyes as Fogpaw turns and ducks out of the log. “How'd you sleep?” She stumbles out into the sunlight and shivers in the weak, earling morning newleaf air.

“I've certainly slept better,” Fogpaw mews, licking a paw and drawing it over one of his ears. “Best not to dwell on it. Breakfast first.”

Moonpaw nods, padding after Fogpaw as he weaves through the sparse mountain pines. She opens her mouth, scenting for prey, and sets her ears on a swivel to better hone in on the skittering of small paws through the bed of fallen pine needles that soften the cats' footfalls.

The breeze drifts the scent of mouse towards Moonpaw and her tail flicks up in excitement. She shoots a look Fogpaw's way and he nods and veers off in another direction, allowing her this hunt to chase his own prey.

Creeping forward, the words of her former mentor rings in her ears. Keep your paws light. Even so much as a scattered pebble will alert your catch to your presence. She never was able to complete her training and earn her warrior name, she thinks with a pang, but files that sadness away for later. She has enough information to know how to hunt, and she and Fogpaw will have plenty of time to practice now.

The mouse she's stalking shows itself, leaping onto the root of a tree, little whiskers twitching. Moonpaw waggles her haunches, preparing to launch herself at it, but as she leaps she slips on the loose pine needles underfoot and falls short of her catch. The mouse darts away and she lunges forward, hoping to snag it with a claw as it escapes, but it's too far from her outstretched paws and disappears into a hole in the ground.

“Star-damned trees,” Moonpaw growls to herself and sits back with a huff, her tail tip twitching. “Hunting on the mountain was so much easier.”

Prey continues to evade her for the rest of the afternoon. Squirrels run up trees, voles dive for cover under the leaf litter, and one particularly annoying chase after a songbird ends with Moonpaw landing in a puddle of mud.

She screeches with disgust, the bird long gone, and drags herself out of the mud to shake her fur. Her nose wrinkles in disgust at the state of her pelt. This is going to take ages to clean out of her white fur. Hopefully, Fogpaw is faring better with his hunt.

She follows her brother's scent trail to find him laden with mice, pawfuls of them at his feet. As he glances up and makes eye contact with her, the corner of his muzzle ticks up in amusement. “Rough hunt?”

“Do. Not,” Moonpaw huffs, eyeing his sleek, clean coat enviously. She drops herself next to him in a patch of sunlight and begins to groom her coat. Between mouthfuls of fur, she says, “we need to find someplace else on the territory to stay. This is no place for a mountain cat to settle.” She darts a pointed look at his small mountain of prey. “Except for you, maybe.”

Fogpaw mrrps a laugh and pushes a mouse towards her. “You can have some. I caught plenty.” He settles onto his paws and helps Moonpaw clear the mud from her fur. “I agree, though. I think we should look around the rockier places of our territory until we find a place that could work as a new camp.”

“A whole camp?” Moonpaw says doubtfully, tongue paused in her grooming. “I could settle for a couple of safe hollows in a rock. What do we need a whole camp for?”

“Rebuilding NimbusClan, of course.”

“Oh, Fogpaw–”

“No, Moon, seriously. I don't want to spend the rest of our days as rogues. I want–” he falters, eyeing her hesitantly before continuing. “I've always wanted a family, one like ours. Mom and Dad and us, it just… made me so happy, you know? I want that for myself one day.” He casts his eyes away from her, his shoulders hiking up around his ears, and Moonpaw knows he’s fighting back tears.

Moonpaw smiles gently at Fogpaw, her own eyes misting a little. “It made me happy too, Fogpaw. Makes me happy. They're watching over us in StarClan, I'm sure of it.” She curls her tail reassuringly over his back. 

“I'm sure they are,” He murmurs, resting his head against hers. “I miss them.”

“I miss them, too.”

They sit that way for a while, purring softly with each other as the newleaf breeze plays over their fur. Eventually, they tuck into the mice Fogpaw caught, and then curl together to take a nap in the sunshine.

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

---

(Okay so yes I know moons are months and so far the timeline of the fic portions doesn’t exactly line up with that, but bear with me for the sake of storytelling purposes)

[spotfurfan]

i just got off of school so i dont have art to post yet but i should. Soon! in the meantime heres @clangenrising fanart from like september i never got around to posting hip hip hooray

[clangenrising]

Month 20 - Leaffall

Prev | First | Next

In the dark, hidden in a nook of the tunnel that led to Goldenstar’s den, Fogpaw listened. 

Goldenstar had returned to camp alone, sobbing and miserable, and she and Yarrowshade had quickly hidden themselves away in her den. Fogpaw had heard something about Scorchplume and had instantly known that she needed to learn more. Quiet as a mouse, she had slunk inside the den and crept as far as she was certain she wouldn’t be seen to eavesdrop. 

“I just don’t get it,” Goldenstar sniffled pitifully. “It’s like she was trying to hurt me and I don’t know why.” 

Yarrowshade sighed and there was the sound of someone rustling moss as they shifted their weight. “I think she’s probably just… scared.” 

“Of what?” Goldenstar asked, her voice cracking. “That I’ll love her?” 

“I mean, yeah,” said Yarrowshade. “She’s not used to it. It can be kinda scary when someone tells you they care about you no matter what.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Goldenstar whined, echoing Fogpaw’s thoughts. 

“I know,” Yarrowshade sighed again. “It doesn’t make sense to Scorch either. She just knows that she feels cornered by something she doesn’t understand and she has to deflect.”

“How do you know, though?” 

Silence hung in the air for a moment. “‘Cause I’m the same,” he eventually said. “When Nightfrost died and people would try to comfort me, I wanted to crawl out of my own skin. Trying to make me feel better makes me think about how bad I feel and that sucks. I try to make jokes and get out of it and I think Scorch gets mean. I don’t know why, but she does.” 

Goldenstar sniffed wetly. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said. “It must be awful.” 

“It is what it is,” he said. “She’ll come back, Goldie. Just let her have some space so she feels less cornered and then you’ll both work it all out, I just know it.” 

Fogpaw had heard enough. Careful not to make a sound, she backed out of the den and looked around to make sure she hadn’t been seen. The camp was empty except for Pantherhaze who sat on watch with his back to her. Fogpaw lowered herself to the ground and moved silently out of camp in the direction of the city. 

Eventually, she found Scorch’s scent where it split from Goldenstar’s. 

“She’s heading for the desert…” Fogpaw mused aloud. “That’s not good.” Picking up her pace, she bounded after her mentor’s trail, trading stealth for speed. 

In the early days of her apprenticeship, Fogpaw had regularly heard Scorchplume threaten to leave for the desert if anything went wrong. It was her way of trying to convince cats that things were serious, that she really was leaving this time. Eventually Fogpaw had stopped believing her when she said it. If she was upset enough to actually follow through, that meant she was really unwell. Plus, the coyotes and their spellcraft were out there. She had to find Scorch and fast. 

The trail was easy enough to follow, at least. It cut straight through the grass towards the East and there wasn’t evidence that Scorch had been moving that quickly. After nearly half an hour, Fogpaw spotted Scorchplume’s tail lashing through the grass ahead of her. 

“Scorchplume!” she called, sprinting the final stretch towards her mentor, “There you are!” 

“Fogpaw!” Scorchplume bristled as she spun to face her. “What are you doing out here!?” 

“I came to find you,” said Fogpaw. “It sounded like you were upset and I wanted to help.” 

Scorch glared at that, her eyes flashing. “I told Goldenstar I’d come back on my own time.” 

“Well she didn’t tell me that,” Fogpaw said, a little annoyed that Scorch expected her to follow rules she hadn’t been told. “She was too busy crying. You really hurt her.” 

“Good,” snapped Scorch, tossing her head haughtily. “She was getting too comfortable.” 

“Stop that,” Fogpaw glared back at her. “You don’t get to say nasty things to people just because you’re scared.” 

Scorch scoffed and lashed her tail. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re my apprentice.” She bared her teeth as she said it, stretching her claws into the dirt. 

“So?” Fogpaw pressed. “Just ‘cause I’m your apprentice doesn’t make me wrong. There are still rules, Scorchplume. We still have to be kind to each other.” 

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Scorchplume snapped.

“You’re scared ‘cause Goldenstar loves you,” Fogpaw continued. “It makes you wanna run away so you say mean stuff and hope she’ll run away from you but you don’t actually want her to stop loving you. You want to feel safe.” 

Scorchplume’s entire pelt was standing on end, her eyes prickling with tears that glistened in the moonlight. “Shut up!” she hissed. “You don’t know anything about me!” 

“Yes I do!” Fogpaw took a step forward, blinking slowly. “You’ve been my mentor for moons and I’ve been watching! And you’re just like me, you’re angry and you’re sad and so you want to rip everybody apart! You almost can’t help it, right?” 

Scorch’s chest was trembling. After a delay of a beat too long, she seemed to remember herself and rolled her eyes, looking away. Fogpaw stepped closer. 

“You don’t want them to hurt but you want to hurt something and it takes you over,” she said, lowering her voice. “I’ve been there. It’s really scary! But you don’t have to do it alone, you can talk to somebody about it and it will help.” 

Scorch scoffed again. “You’re wrong. I’m not like you. I’m like Ghost. I hurt people and I like it.” 

“But he doesn’t like it,” Fogpaw said, realizing it was true as she said it, “he just doesn’t know how else to be.” Maybe Scorchplume was like Ghost. Maybe she was too… “But I can help you find another way to be. I want to help you, Scorchplume.” 

“That’s your problem,” Scorchplume snarled, rounding on her, “you and Goldenstar both! You think I’m some project -- some broken thing you can fix! But I’m not fixable!” 

“You’re not broken, Scorch,” Fogpaw said. “You’re just scared. And you’re alone. And I can help you be less scared and alone.” She closed the last of the distance, butting her head firmly into Scorch’s shoulder and purring as loudly as she could. Scorch tried to pull away but she reached up and wrapped her paws around her mentor’s neck, moving to rub her forehead underneath her chin. 

Scorch stiffened as if holding still would get Fogpaw to let go but she persisted. After another long beat, Scorchplume’s chest deflated in a sigh of defeat and she slumped against Fogpaw. Fogpaw squeezed her tighter and she sniffled miserably.

“I am broken,” Scorch said quietly. “I don’t know why but every time I smell something that reminds me of Razor or something touches my scruff, I panic and I can’t do anything right. I can’t even think straight! I let my guard down with Goldenstar and now I can’t put it back up.”

“That sounds really scary,” said Fogpaw in the same quiet tone. “Is that why you got mad at her?”

“Kind of,” Scorch said, trying to pull away again. This time, Fogpaw let her, satisfied that she had been comforted by the hug. Scorch continued, “I did something very reckless in the city. It paid off, but everyone was furious with me, especially Coyotechaser and Orangestar. Goldenstar tried to talk to me about it but I… I don’t know.” She sniffed again and looked away.

“It’s okay,” Fogpaw said, offering her a warm smile. “You don’t have to know.” 

Scorchplume huffed a laugh through her nose. “How dare you be so mature. I’m supposed to be the adult here.” 

Fogpaw snorted. “I’m almost twelve moons old, y’know.” 

“Ugh, really?” Scorch wrinkled her nose in distaste. “No, that’s not allowed.” 

Fogpaw shrieked with laughter. “Not allowed?!”

“You heard me,” Scorchplume puffed herself up in the way Fogpaw knew meant she was joking, “Stop aging immediately or I’ll put you on permanent tick duty.” 

“No way,” Fogpaw snickered. “I just won’t do it. What then?” 

“Ah, you’ve found my secret loophole!” Scorchplume cried in mock despair. “I guess there’s nothing I can do.” Fogpaw giggled and butted up against her, rubbing her body down Scorch’s whole flank until she had turned around so they were side by side. 

“Let’s go home,” she said softly.

Scorch frowned. “I don’t want to. Goldenstar will be furious with me.” 

“No, she won’t,” Fogpaw jostled against her side. “You know she won’t. When has she ever been furious with you?”

Scorch chewed her lip for a moment, then sighed, “You’ve got a point, I guess.” 

“Come on,” said Fogpaw. “We’ll do it together. It won’t be so bad.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Scorch grumbled and Fogpaw couldn’t tell if she was serious. Still she shoved Scorchplume to her feet and started herding her back towards camp. 

“Were you really going to the desert?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” Scorchplume shook her head. “I was tempted at least.” 

“I wonder what it���s like out there,” Fogpaw hummed, craning her neck to peer over her shoulder. 

“Dry,” Scorchplume shrugged. “Probably cold.” 

Fogpaw wasn’t really listening. She’d slowed to a stop, her eyes glued to the large shape staring back at her with big eyes full of moonlight. 

“Scorchplume,” she whispered, “is that what I think it is?” Scorch turned to look and gasped. 

“A coyote,” she breathed, pelt fluffing. “It must be.” The air prickled with energy. Fogpaw swore she could feel some kind of force connecting her with the beast. 

“We need to go,” Scorchplume hissed. “Now.” As if it could hear them, the coyote started loping in their direction. It didn’t slink or stalk, it didn’t run or chase, it just loped. Its movement struck Fogpaw as intensely open and inviting. 

“I think it’s friendly,” she said, unmoving. 

“What?!” Scorchplume bristled. “It is most certainly not friendly! Come on!” She had begun to back away, staying low to the ground, hidden among the grass. Fogpaw took a step towards the coyote. 

“Fogpaw, this is serious,” Scorchplume snapped. “That thing will kill you! We need to leave right now!” 

“Hello?” Fogpaw called to the coyote and Scorchplume made a strangled noise in her throat. 

A beat later, a voice called back, “Hey-lo.” 

“Did you hear that?” Fogpaw felt a rush of static prickle through her pelt from her toes to her ears. “It can talk!” 

“That’s great,” hissed Scorch, “now it can tell us exactly how good we taste. Come on!” The coyote was close enough now that Fogpaw could smell it. It towered over her, twice her height with big pointed ears trained on her position. 

“Are you friendly?” Fogpaw called back.

“Friendly?” it echoed, cocking its head. “Yes. Friend. Friendly. Good friend.” It stopped about a fox-length from them and cocked its head the other way. 

Fogpaw reared up on her hind legs to get a good look at it. 

It was almost like a cat but leaner and more rigid looking, all stiff angles and pointed edges. Its fur was a ticked kind of grey and white with ginger points, the strangest pattern she’d ever seen on a creature. Its muzzle was long and terrible, the kind of thing that sent instinctive spikes of fear through her belly, yet its expression seemed curious and open. 

She was entranced. 

“My name’s Fogpaw,” she said in a hushed tone. The coyote sniffed at her. 

“Na-ame,” it sing-songed. 

“Fuck me,” groaned Scorchplume. 

“Yeah,” Fogpaw purred. Placing a paw on her chest, she said again, “Fogpaw.” 

“Frog-paw,” it tried and she giggled. 

“Not Frogpaw, Fogpaw! What’s your name?” 

The coyote tried to place a paw on its own chest with its long, stiff looking legs. “Hui-che.” 

“Huiche?” Fogpaw repeated.

The coyote shook its head. “Hui-che,” it said again, its voice lifting melodically. “Hui-che.” 

“Oh,” Fogpaw’s eyes widened in excitement. “You have to sing it?” She tried to mimic the exact cadence and pitch it had used. “Hui-che?” 

The coyote grinned with its mouth full of teeth and sing-songed something she didn’t understand. It seemed like a good something though. 

“Fogpaw, I don’t trust this thing,” Scorchplume growled warily, her fur standing on end in a ginger cloud. 

“Friend,” sang Hui-che. “Hun-ting.” 

“See?!” Scorchplume hopped backward. “It’s hunting us!” 

“You don’t know that,” Fogpaw frowned over her shoulder. When she turned back to the coyote, it had advanced two steps, its toothy maw parted to drink in her scent. Fogpaw’s tail bristled automatically and Scorch swore again. 

“Hun-ting, friend,” it sang again. “The rotting touch-ing.” 

“The what?” Fogpaw asked, swallowing her fear. 

“The rotting touch-ing,” it yipped. “Touch the rotting here.” Fogpaw scrunched her nose in confusion.

“I don’t understand,” she shook her head. 

The coyote frowned and gave a high pitched growl, sniffing at the grass around them. With one paw, it started to scrape at the ground. Fogpaw’s stomach fluttered when she realized it was drawing shapes. 

“Is that magic?” she asked a bit louder than she meant to. 

“Magic!” the coyote’s eyes flashed up at her for a split second grin. “Rotting magic touch-ing here. Good touch-ing. Hunting it.” 

At this point, Scorchplume had started to creep back towards them, her neck craned to carefully observe what it was doing. Fogpaw smiled at her and wrapped her tail around Scorchplume’s leg reassuringly. 

“You’re hunting the magic?” Fogpaw asked.

“Yes!” nodded Hui-che. “Good, rotting magic. Strong touch-ing here.” 

“Rotting magic?” Scorchplume curled her lip in disgust. “Of course a coyote is looking for rot.”

Hui-che’s yellow eyes snapped up and fixed Scorchplume with a predatory stare that unsettled Fogpaw. It sniffed at her with its big, black nose and grinned. Fogpaw instinctively shoved herself between the two of them.

Hui-che stood up to its full height and cocked its head again, sing-songing to itself in its own language. 

“I won’t let you hurt her,” Fogpaw declared, baring her teeth. Hui-che frowned curiously at the display.

“No hurt,” it yipped, bowing down until its chest touched the ground. “No hurt. Friend! Good friend.” 

“Fogpaw, we’re leaving,” Scorchplume said, backing away. 

“Yeah,” Fogpaw said slowly, “okay.” She wanted to stay and ask the coyote more about the rotting magic but it was getting to the point where even she couldn’t deny the warning signs. 

Still, she said, “Goodbye, Hui-che.” 

The coyote frowned but didn’t lunge for them, only went back to scratching runes in the dirt. Fogpaw and Scorchplume backed away until they had a few fox lengths of space in between them and the coyote and then they slank quickly back to camp. 

“That was farther in the territory than last time,” Scorchplume said as they walked. “I don’t like how close it was. Next time you need to listen when I tell you to run, okay?”

“If we’d run, we wouldn’t have learned about the rotting magic, though!” Fogpaw protested. 

“We learned nothing,” Scorchplume hissed, “And besides, if it had decided to attack you there’s nothing we could have done. You need to trust that I know what I’m doing.” 

“Why can’t you trust that I know what I’m doing?” whined Fogpaw. “I’m not stupid, Scorchplume.” 

“Mm,” was all Scorch said. 

Fogpaw frowned but stayed quiet. She had had a very stressful night and, even in the best of times, Scorch wasn’t very trusting. 

“Fine,” Fogpaw sighed. “Let’s just go tell Goldenstar what happened and then you can apologize.” 

“Right,” Scorchplume grumbled. 

“It’ll be okay,” said Fogpaw. “Just tell her how you felt and say you’re sorry. She’ll understand.” Scorch grumbled again, sounding unconvinced. 

Fogpaw didn’t quite understand why Scorch didn’t believe that Goldenstar would be understanding. She understood and she didn’t understand anybody! Surely, Goldenstar would get it right away. Maybe it was something about Scorchplume instead? 

She stewed over the idea as they walked, her thoughts of Scorchplume mingling with her thoughts of Hui-che and this mysterious “rotting magic touching.”

[morningclan-islost]

“budwillow is thinking about how much fogpaw reminds him of his own apprentice days.”

moon 2

[cheryxshug]

》 fogpaw found a twoleg knick-knack.

》 frostpaw has grown fond of her pebble.

more art for @sootslash's fallenclan blog.. this one i had to color and make silly.. meow meow meow kittys so normal and happy i bet nothing bad will ever happen to them !

[conroichts]

I drew my friend @nimbusclan 's lil guy Fogpaw today! I love him... just a sad lil guy

[badgersinabox]

Absolutely love these three from @through-frost-and-flames, all of the characters are so well written. They’ve been consuming my mind for weeks now. Felt the need to draw this to cope after recent events in the comic. Just a sweet moment of siblings snuggling.

[koolaidcatley]

[rose-warriorcatsrefs]

[nimbusclan]

Moon 4

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

Happy New Year!

///

“We would've had our warrior ceremony by now.”

Fogpaw groans at his sister, pushing past her as they climb higher up the mountain, paws farther from their territory than they've ever been. The terrain and the scents are unfamiliar and the rock is hot under their paws, baking in the greenleaf sun. They can’t go back, so they press on. “Don't start with that. I'm not in the mood for reminiscing right now.”

“No, no, listen to me.” Moonpaw bounds ahead of her brother, cutting him off and leaping atop a large rock. She puffs her chest out, head held high. “It's been twelve moons since our kitting, right? That means we should have our warrior ceremonies.”

Fogpaw eyes her dubiously, but Moonpaw spies the small smile that creeps across his muzzle. She grins, feeling flush with victory.

“What do you think Pitchstar would’ve chosen for our warrior names?”

“Why don't we pick them ourselves?” Moonpaw’s tail wags playfully. Fun and ceremony like this feels sorely needed after their long, lonesome travel. It's been four moons since their camp caved in and the two of them were forced to head out on their own. It's about time they have some fun. “I'll pick a name and you can name me,” Moonpaw says, patting the rock she stands atop with a paw, “and then we swap – I'll give you the name you pick.”

“Okay,” Fogpaw laughs. “I want to do yours first. What's your warrior name going to be?”

“Moonpool.”

“You didn't even have to think about it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Moonpaw says, and it’s true, she has. She’s had a long, boring few moons to mull it over in her mind. “Okay, swap with me, give me my name!”

Laughing, the apprentices trade places, Moonpaw hopping down from the rock so Fogpaw can scramble atop it and look down at his sister.

“I, Fogpaw of NimbusClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon– what're the words?”

Moonpaw rolls her eyes. He should have let her go first. “Look down on this apprentice,” Moonpaw recites easily. She's been looking forward to this since her nursery days. It’s not anything like how she dreamed it would be, but having Fogpaw smiling down at her makes the unorthodox celebration worth it. “They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn.”

“Wow, you seriously have that memorized?”

Moonpaw carries on, ignoring him. “Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“Well, do you?” Fogpaw leans down on the rock, gesturing to Moonpaw.

Emotion swells in Moonpaw’s chest. “I do.”

Fogpaw smiles warmly at her and sits upright. “Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Moonpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Moonpool.” Fogpaw cocks his head at her, a considering expression on his face. “StarClan honors you for your judgment. We welcome you as a full warrior of NimbusClan.”

Fogpaw leaps down from the rock to rest his muzzle atop Moonpool's head and she licks his shoulder in turn, eyes misty with emotion.

“Thank you,” She whispers when he pulls back.

He grins at her. “Don't get sappy just yet, you have to do mine now!”

“Right, right, okay.” Moonpool hops up onto the rock, the greenleaf sun warming her shoulder blades. “Did you think of a name?”

Fogpaw's eyebrows draw down in thought. “Hmm…”

“How about Fogfreckle?” Moonpool suggests, pointing at him with her tail. “On account of your markings?”

He looks over his shoulder at his dappled pelt. “Okay. Yeah, I like it.” He turns back to smile up at her. “Fogfreckle it is.”

Moonpool grins, then draws in a deep breath and recites the ceremonial words once more.

“By the powers of StarClan, I grant you your warrior name. Fogpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Fogfreckle.” She watches as Fogfreckle swells with determination. Her eyes shine, and she continues without hesitation. “StarClan honors your courage. We welcome you as a full warrior of NimbusClan.”

She hops down to rest her muzzle atop Fogfreckle's head, and then both cats tip their heads back and bellow across the mountain.

“Moonpool! Fogfreckle! Moonpool! Fogfreckle!”

Filled to the brim with excitement and ceremony, the pair of them chase each other around the mountain, laughing and leaping at each other and wrestling across the warm ground.

“So, are we going to stand vigil?” Fogfreckle asks, panting with exertion from their play fight.

“Stand vigil where? We don't have a camp to guard.”

“Wherever we find to sleep tonight,” Fogfreckle shrugs, a smooth roll of his shoulders under sun-warmed fur. “We can take turns, like with the names. I'll guard you first, and then you can guard me. We're warriors of NimbusClan, and we protect each other.”

Moonpool smiles at him, having to fight back the beginning prickle of emotion behind her eyes. “Pitchstar would be proud of you, you know. Not only as your mentor, but as leader.”

Fogfreckle grins at her. “You basically mentored me the rest of the way.”

“Me?” Moonpool is surprised, her eyes widening. “Hardly! You didn't need any of my help,” she laughs.

“I learned a lot from you. I'm still the better hunter,” he adds without an ounce of modesty, and Moonpool laughs and throws her shoulder against his, “but I don't think I could've done this without you by my side. You’re… I really look to you for guidance. I probably would've been killed by those cats if you hadn't come to rescue me on the border that day. You're more… you think first, which I’ll admit I don’t always do. You'd make a good leader, I think.”

Moonpool is shocked, embarrassed, but nonetheless pleased. “Come on. I got scared by a mouse earlier. That's hardly leadership material.”

Fogfreckle shrugs, but he's smiling. “Leaders can always use a bit of humility. Either way, you'll make a great warrior, Moonpool.” His smile turns teasing. “Especially with me by your side.”

She knocks her head against his affectionately and then races up the mountain, calling after him to chase her.

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[lightningclangen]

MOON 2

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[clangenrising]

Month 20 - Leaffall

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Things in camp were busy these days. Hunting to prepare everyone for winter was a top priority for anyone who wasn’t keeping their combat skills sharp for the inevitable fight with Sardine. Slatepaw and Pantherhaze had taken to daily hunts and she was finally starting to feel like her skills had improved. 

“Amazing catch,” Pantherhaze purred as she proudly lifted up the rabbit she had chased down. “You’ve come so far, Slatepaw. I’m so proud of you.” 

“Fanks,” she grinned around the prey in her teeth. Her thick, winter coated tail furled up over her back and she let the praise roll over her like warm sunlight. 

“Let’s grab the rest and go back,” he said, butting his head against her shoulder which he could do now that she was almost taller than he was. They collected a few more rodents from their cache and returned to camp as the morning sun started to peek over the mountains. 

“Nice catch!” Barleybee congratulated as they passed her and Aldertail on their way out. 

“She caught it herself,” Pantherhaze boasted for her. Slatepaw blushed at the look of amazement on Aldertail’s face. 

“Wow,” she breathed. “I could never do that. That’s amazing.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” Barleybee said, touching her nose to Aldertail’s ear. To Slatepaw, she added, “I bet you Ospreymask would really appreciate that right now.”

“Her specifically?” Pantherhaze tilted his head in confusion. 

“You’ll understand in a bit,” laughed Barleybee. “She’s been telling everybody.” 

Slatepaw’s stomach fluttered in excitement. Could it be what she was thinking it was? She and Pantherhaze said goodbye to Barleybee and Aldertail and she began her search for Ospreymask. 

It wasn’t hard to find her. 

She sat outside the Healers’ den with Oddstripe and Songdust, saying loudly, “I don’t think I’ll be moving my nest quite yet. Might as well give the boys a bit more time to themselves.” 

“Osprehmahsk!” Slatepaw called around her catch and she bounded over. 

“Slatepaw!” Ospreymask beamed and lifted her tail in greeting. 

Slatepaw dropped the rabbit at her feet and asked, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?!” She felt like her paws were full of bees the way they were vibrating. 

“Depends,” smirked Ospreymask, starting out slow but increasing in speed and volume as she neared the end of her sentence, “do you think I’m saying that I’m going to have kits?!” 

“Yes!” squealed Slatepaw, ecstatic.

“Then I am!” Ospreymask cheered in kind, rubbing her head all down Slatepaw’s side and looping around to lean against her other side. “I’m gonna be a mama!” 

“That’s so exciting!” Slatepaw felt on the verge of happy tears. “Who with?” 

“You’ll just have to guess, won’t you,” Ospreymask laughed. 

“Lots of queens don’t feel the need to tell people who the sire is,” Songdust explained. “I know that hasn’t really been your experience but it was a lot more common when I was your age.” 

“Oh, okay,” said Slatepaw, a bit confused. She didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to shout your mate’s name from the mountain tops but she supposed everyone was different. Fogpaw would probably think she was stupid for feeling that way, for one. 

She brushed the thought away with a twitch of her tail and said, “Here, you should have the rabbit I caught! You need to eat up to help the kits grow, right?” 

“That’s right,” winked Ospreymask and Oddstripe nodded in agreement. 

“Congratulations,” Pantherhaze said more calmly, butting heads with Ospreymask. 

“Thanks, buddy,” she purred. “I’m absolutely thrilled.”

“It’s a shame on the timing though,” he said. “You’ll have to miss out on mentoring Yellowkit and Bluekit.” 

Ospreymask’s face fell suddenly. “Aw, man! I didn’t even think about that!” She plopped down into a pouty loaf and pulled the rabbit closer, sourly starting on her meal. Slatepaw giggled and Oddstripe laid his tail over Ospreymask’s shoulder. 

“There will be more chances in the future, I’m sure,” he said. 

“I know,” sighed Ospreymask. “I guess waiting a moon or two to recover is better than having to wait six moons to have kits or having to stop training halfway through.” 

“Yeah, exactly,” agreed Pantherhaze. “StarClan knows when to send us our blessings. I’m sure the timing will feel perfect when you look back on everything.”

“Slatepaw, guess what?!” Fogpaw’s voice called and Slatepaw turned around to see her sister loping in from the southern edge of camp. 

“Ospreymask is having kits? I know!” she squealed, bounding over to meet her sister. “It’s so exciting, I can’t wait!”

“She is?” Fogpaw gaped. “Wow, that’s awesome!”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Slatepaw blinked. “What was your ‘guess what’ then?” 

“Ghost is on his way!” grinned Fogpaw.

“Really?” Slatepaw lit up before confusion made her frown again. “Wait, I thought you hated him.” 

“I don’t hate him anymore,” Fogpaw rolled her eyes as if that had been common knowledge. “But yeah, he’s coming to talk to Goldenstar about battle plans! Isn’t that great?” 

Slatepaw felt her insides shrivel up in fear. “I guess,” she lied. That meant there was going to be a fight. That meant people were going to die. She didn’t want people to die! 

“I hope we get to go!” Fogpaw chattered, tail curling back and forth. “I barely got to fight in the last battle.” Slatepaw swallowed. The last battle had killed Lakepaw and Sagetooth. She looked around the clearing at the smiling faces of her Clanmates and wondered who of them wouldn’t make it. She felt like she was going to cry. 

“Hey,” Fogpaw frowned, “are you okay? You look sad.” 

Slatepaw was surprised her sister had noticed, although she was pretty terrible at hiding her emotions to be fair. “Um, I’m just nervous,” she said. 

“Of what?” Fogpaw wound her tail with Slatepaw’s.

“I- I don’t know,” she balked. Suddenly she was struggling to put her words together. “That people will die?” Was that so unreasonable?

Fogpaw hummed thoughtfully and said, “I’m sure it’ll be okay, Slatepaw. This time we’re gonna be prepared so it’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” she relented, not wanting to make a fight out of it. 

“Slatepaw!” called the friendly voice of Jagg from the top of the hill. Beside her was Ghost, wearing an uneasy half smile that made her heart soar in hope. Scorchplume followed up behind them, tail twitching, and headed down into Goldenstar’s den without a word. Fogpaw smiled at Slatepaw and then started over to meet them so she followed. 

Ghost cleared his throat and said, “Hey, kiddo.” 

“Hi dad, hi Jagg,” she responded shyly. “How are you?”

“Pretty good,” said Jagg with a friendly arch to her tail. “How’s your training coming?”

“Good,” smiled Slatepaw. “I caught a rabbit today.”

“Wow! A whole rabbit? That’s amazing,” said Jagg brightly. Slatepaw blushed under her praise and leaned closer to Fogpaw. 

“She’s ready for you,” Scorchplume called from across the camp, and Ghost’s ear stumps twitched in her direction. 

“Well, looks like we’ve got to go,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“Will you share tongues with us after your meeting?” Slatepaw asked as loudly as she could muster. 

“We’ll have to see,” he said, not looking at her. 

“It depends on how long the meeting takes,” added Jagg. “We’ll come say goodbye at the very least.”

“Okay,” Slatepaw nodded meekly. With that, the two adults joined Scorchplume at the entrance to Goldenstar’s den and slank inside. Scorchplume scowled in Slatepaw and Fogpaw’s direction before following them with a twitching tail tip. 

Slatepaw pursed her lips angrily. “Why is she so mean?”

“Who, Jagg?” Fogpaw asked incredulously. “She’s super nice, what are you talking about?” 

“Not Jagg,” Slatepaw’s ears pressed back in frustration at her sister’s density, “Scorchplume! She’s such a bully!”

“No she’s not!” Fogpaw puffed up furiously which made Slatepaw flinch. “She’s just doing her best! Being nice is hard for her!”

“Hah!” crowed Slatepaw in victory. “So you admit that she’s mean!”

“Nuh-uh!” bristled Fogpaw. “I said being nice is hard for her, that’s not the same!”

“How is it not the same? That’s stupid!” 

“You’re stupid!” Fogpaw snapped. “I mean- no, I didn’t mean that.”

“Then why did you say it?” Slatepaw said, starting to tear up but determined to stay strong. 

“Because I’m angry,” Fogpaw said. “Look, I-” She took a deep breath and pushed it out sternly through her nose. “I’m sorry, okay? I just care a lot about Scorchplume. She’s really nice to me. I wish you would try and get to know her like I do.” 

Slatepaw swished her tail defensively around her paws. “What if she’s nice to you ‘cause she’s a liar?” 

“What would she get from lying to me? What does that do for her?” 

“Maybe she gets a cat who will swear she’s good and kind,” accused Slatepaw. The idea solidified in her head as she said it and it scared her. “Maybe she’s using you to trick everyone into trusting her so she can take over the Clan!”

“Slatepaw, that’s crazy, you sound like FallenClan,” Fogpaw rolled her eyes. 

“I’m not crazy!” Slatepaw sat up straight. “I’m not.” With that, she turned and stormed off. 

“Slatepaw, wait, come back!” Fogpaw said, chasing after her.

Luckily, Pantherhaze swooped in between them and said, “Why don’t you let her get some space, okay, Fogpaw?” Slatepaw paused to look over her shoulder. She kept a scowl on her face but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to scare Fogpaw off or make her stay. 

Fogpaw swallowed, looked at her, and then nodded. “Okay. Sorry, Slatepaw. I’ll give you space.”

“Good,” she huffed and twitched an ear. Fogpaw stepped away and went to sit near the leader’s den. Slatepaw decided to go into the apprentices’ den and lay down in her nest. 

After a moment, Pantherhaze poked his head inside. “Hey, do you need anything, Slatepaw?” 

“I don’t know,” she mumbled sullenly into the moss. 

“Okay,” he said. “If you can think of anything just tell me, okay? I’m here for you.”

“I know,” she sniffled. “Thanks, Pantherhaze.”

“Of course, sweetie,” he smiled tenderly and retreated, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

[morningclan-islost]

do you like warrior cats? because i like warrior cats,,,, <3

meet the morningclan founding members!

webstar, the wise thread that keeps the clan knit together. but not all would be peace if it weren’t for her cool-headed second; yewheart. these two lead the clan with gentle claws, but that doesn’t mean they take any threats to their clan lightly. with their tactical genius , they are a force to be reckoned with.

though none of this would be possible without the clever and snide; sweettail. their medic is the best there could ever be, up in age but sharp in tongue- the old man keeps up with the bustling clan with seemingly half a thought. as though it was just muscle memory when it came to stitching up wounds and treating illness,,,

morningclan itself was built off of refugees from a self-destructive group previously known as; nightclan. these survivors swore together that they would rebuild, stronger and better than nightclan ever was.

lotuspelt and swallowdaze were two of these survivors, following the (at the time) webdance to the new dawn that she vowed to bring. lotuspelt, while competitive and prickly at times- was a welcomed addition with his wise and introspective outlook on the world. swallowdaze came up behind with his quiet yet thoughtful demeanor, kind and patient. webdance couldn’t be prouder of those she’d brought with her to bring up the bright and hopeful; morningclan.

young and a bit of a troublemaker himself, budwillow was fast to join as he sought to make a name for himself anywhere but that awful place he was once raised in. though easily distracted, and a bit of a goof at times- budwillow is an excellent teacher and kitsitter, and most all cats can trust budwillow to keep their kittens safe in his paws.

cobaltsnout, the youngest of the joining warriors, hesitantly followed in webdance’s steps when she joined the clan. despite her renown for her fighting ability, cobaltsnout has never quite felt comfortable in her own skin. she fears her own strength, and often patrols alone to ensure she doesn’t invite a confrontation,,, for everyone’s safety.

goldpaw and moonpaw are the inseparable siblings of morningclan. born to a kittypet from outside the clans, then brought in by their father; duskshade. it was an odd time when they’d found themselves following the runners from nightclan, especially since they’d almost been warriors yet.

though stuck to together in heart, these two couldn’t be more different. goldpaw a quiet observer, while moonpaw the bright and snarky. they may seem odd as a duo, but they work together better than moss on a log!

and last but not least- fogpaw! the youngest of the clan, but also the most eager. fogpaw is the nephew of yewheart. brought along by their uncle in hopes of a safer future, this poor kit barely could comprehend when they were whisked away to this new place. but regardless, their fiery spirit will win them the day! oh, and morningclan! haha,,

[fadeclangen]

another dazzle to the pile

[ignus-arts]