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rippleclan · 5 months ago

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RippleClan: Moon 79

James wanders out into the territory and is later found dead, a peaceful expression on his face.

[Image ID: Lightningpaw, Scaleripple, Lavendertwist, Cobaltpaw, Paleseed, Puddlewhisper, and Waspdawn sit vigil with their father's ghost in the center.]

(James: 155, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Lightningpaw: 9, female, historian apprentice, insecure, always wandering)

(Scaleripple: 32, male, warrior, lonesome, formidable fighter)

(Lavendertwist: 45, male, historian, playful, great singer, good storyteller)

(Cobaltpaw: 9, female, codekeeper apprentice, loyal, loves to eat)

(Paleseed: 45, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

(Puddlewhisper: 45, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, natural intuition, ghost sense)

(Waspdawn: 45, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

Honeybuzz and Venturedapple get mistaken by SlugClan as intruders. Honeybuzz gets his ear torn, but Venturedapple has a serious claw wound.

[Image ID: Venturedapple and Honeybuzz hurry away from a ginger and white tom and a lilac and gold tortoiseshell. Under Venturedapple, it says + CONDITION: MANGLED TAIL. Under Honeybuzz, it says + CONDITION: TORN EAR.]

---

Honeybuzz didn't know what to think of Venturedapple. Few in the Clan did. He hadn't participated much in Longest Night and mostly kept to himself and Lemmy (who had to vouch for him when Currentsmoke and Yarrowclaw brought him to camp). Why did he want to join RippleClan rather than protect the cats of the human settlement? No one knew. But when the LynxClan cleric, Aspenblotch, asked for a RippleClan cleric's assistance, who volunteered to accompany Honeybuzz? Venturedapple. So what could the pair talk about, as they made their way along the safe corridor from LynxClan to RippleClan?

Venturedapple took the lead. His bulky form left a path for Honeybuzz through the paw-deep snow. He seemed unbothered by the cold that made Honeybuzz want to run back to LynxClan's camp and never leave the fire's warmth. Honeybuzz carried a large leather pouch at his side, leather straps wrapping around his torso (a brilliant invention that came, shockingly, from the southern farm cats who studied their human neighbors and recruited WheatClan artisans, to Rattlepelt's envy). The sun was to their backs, lighting the trail home.

"It must have been easier to go home when you lived with the humans," Honeybuzz eventually said. "I heard they can clear the snow off their trails with giant tools."

"They do," Venturedapple said. StarClan, was his voice deep!

"Did you live in a human den?" Honeybuzz tried asking.

"Once," Venturedapple said. He didn't look back. Honeybuzz sighed softly. He licked his paws warm and studied the beautiful snowy forest around him.

Venturedapple stopped so suddenly that Honeybuzz smacked into his grand, fluffy tail. Honeybuzz collected himself quickly, his side-pouch loosening. Venturedapple stared into SlugClan territory, ears sharp. Honeybuzz followed his gaze. All he saw were snow-dusted trees and old pawprints.

"Back!" Venturedapple yowled, his entire body puffing up violently. Before Honeybuzz could react, two SlugClan warriors appeared out of nowhere. A fuzzy lilac warrior and a ginger and white tom tackled Venturedapple with a battle yowl. Venturedapple spun, claws swinging at his attackers. The lilac warrior dug into Venturedapple's tail. The three were a blur of fur, colors blending into each other. Blood splattered on the snow.

"Get off him!" Honeybuzz yowled. He snatched the ginger and white tom's scruff and pulled him off. The warrior spun at Honeybuzz. His claws caught onto Honeybuzz's ear. The fragile skin tore. Honeybuzz's blood dribbled down his face. He had never seen his own blood before. Something about the salty substance dripping onto the snow made Honeybuzz's stomach climb into his throat.

The SlugClan warrior reared back, ready to strike again. Yet his eyes bounced off the pouch at Honeybuzz's side. The bloodlust in his blue gaze vanished.

"Carvingfur!" he yowled, turning back to the scuffle. "Carvingfur, stop! They're RippleClan!" The lilac warrior, Carvingfur, let go of Venturedapple's leg. Chunks of Venturedapple's long tail fur floated in the breeze and stuck to the snow. His tail oozed red. Venturedapple hissed and kicked Carvingfur away.

"I don't recognize this one," Carvingfur huffed, hackles still rasied.

"Venturedapple recently joined the Clan," Honeybuzz snapped. He hurried to his Clanmate's side, studying the wound. "What are you doing? We were close to the border, we're allowed to travel along it!" Honeybuzz took off his pouch and searched through it. All he had was a tuft of sea moss left over from treating a LynxClan mediator's lack of energy.

"I'm sorry," the ginger tom sighed. "Gorgestar changed our border policy. We're supposed to drive off any intruders."

"We aren't intruders!"Honeybuzz yowled. "I'm a cleric, for StarClan's sake! What's your name?"

"I'm Lighttrail," the ginger tom said, nudging Carvingfur away.

"Well, Lighttrail," Honeybuzz growled, "expect RippleClan to demand medical reimbursement. Can you stand, Venturedapple?"

"Yes," Venturedapple groaned. He hissed as he got to his paws, holding his tail close. Honeybuzz groomed his wounds, but his tongue wouldn't stop the blood flow.

"I'm giving both of your names to Downstar and the codekeepers," Honeybuzz hissed as he helped Venturedapple back along their path. "Attacking a cleric and their escort is unacceptable!" Honeybuzz settled his pouch back onto his side and stormed off, refusing to look back at Lighttrail and Carvingfur.

Venturedapple's tail left a red trail as the pair hurried home. Honeybuzz ran treatment options through his mind. Some of Venturedapple's gashes might need stitches, but the brown and white codekeeper seemed like he could take the pain. Honeybuzz would mix some of his black cherry tea with a dash of SlugClan's honey (how ironic) and skullcap powder, that would reduce the pain and soothe Venturedapple's battle-ready heart. Honeybuzz had a good ointment for winter wounds; balsam fir gum for infection, bluebead lily leaves for fresh wounds, rounded out with red osier bark shavings. He could use some of that ointment for his ear, but most of it would go on Venturedapple's tail before the bandages. His condition wasn't too bad, Honeybuzz could—

"Does your ear hurt?" Venturedapple asked, snapping Honeybuzz back to the present.

"Only a little bit," Honeybuzz promised, licking his paw and pulling it over his bleeding ear. Venturedapple slowed, nodding.

"Thank you for your intervention," he said.

"Thank you!" Honeybuzz stammered. "I didn't see them. I would have been helpless." Venturedapple nodded again. "It seems you'll be spending time in the medicine den with me. Let's make sure to share some meals together."

"That would be nice," Venturedapple purred as the chunks of fur remaining on his tail dripped red.

Maybe Venturedapple wasn't as mysterious as Honeybuzz thought.

(Honeybuzz: 27, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Venturedapple: 67, male, codekeeper, cold, eloquent speaker)

Ravenweaver is named RippleClan’s newest artisan.

[Image ID: Ravenweaver is an adult. Under her, it reads LEVEL UP! RAVENPAW → RAVENWEAVER, PICKY NEST BUILDER → DEN BUILDER, QUICK WITTED → VERY CLEVER.]

(Ravenweaver: 14, female, artisan, den builder, very clever

Brightpaw has to lure away a human and their hunting dog with Trumpetspore and Elmsprout.

[Image ID: Brightpaw follows Trumpetspore and Elmsprout. Under him, it reads + CONDITION: BITE WOUND.]

---

It was the day after Estherfern's trial. Her confession to the Clan following the successful ritual had thrown everyone off balance, to say the least. Yet at the end of it all, Downstar decided that, outside of lost privileges, Foampaw's death was punishment enough. But was it? Brightpaw's mother only started seeing him and his sisters as actual cats after summoning the forces of the Dark Forest to "cure" them. Estherfern loved them all, Brightpaw knew that… but what was he supposed to say?

"You don't need to know what to do," Elmsprout insisted as she and Trumpetspore led Brightpaw on patrol. Snow drifted through the sunhigh haze, because of course Trumpetspore took Brightpaw on a dreaded sunhigh patrol. "The entire Clan is confused right now. Downstar and Oilstripe are busy deciding what to tell the other Clans, both about your mother and about Wolfgaze, Weevilpaw, and Anchovystrike. You're allowed to be just as unsure."

"We should have told the Clans about the three of them when we first found out," Brightpaw huffed. "It's a good defense. They wouldn't want to attack us when they know we can predict their moves and freeze them where they stand."

"It was better for them," Elmsprout sighed. "How would you feel if everyone saw you as some living legend when you were just six moons old? We've given them time to grow up and graduate. Now that the spirits are gone, there's less pressure on them to live up to some mythical ideal."

"I guess that makes sense," Brightpaw sighed. He tried to turn his attention to the patrol, watching for any spirits that could have lingered from the rituals… or something else that came in.

"Even though I would never give up my life here," Elmsprout said, gaze drifting, "I still wish my relationship with my father was better. It's not a perfect comparison, but I think both your mother and my father only ever tried to help us, even if they went about it the wrong way. That doesn't excuse them, but… I think that makes it easier to understand them. And this time, rather than running to join another Clan like I did, you can work through it." She dipped her chin at the end, flaunting her embarrassment the way a lot of adults seemed to when relating to apprentices. Brightpaw had to admit, though; it worked.

"As long as my mom doesn't ask me to 'speak up' or 'take a deep breath' again," Brightpaw scoffed, with only the slightest hint of comtempt. He was allowed a little comtempt. He deserved it.

A loud crack broke through the forest. Distant barking froze Brightpaw where he stood. Trumpetspore instinctually climbed up the nearest tree while Elmsprout shielded Brightpaw.

"What was that?" Brightpaw yowled, trying to breath.

"A thunder-stick," Elmsprout explained, grooming Brightpaw's neck. "The humans shoot fire out of them when hunting. It's alright, Brightpaw. They don't hunt cats. They like to hunt deer in AshClan and SlugClan the most."

"Elmsprout, I don't like how close that was," Trumpetspore called, peering between the barren branches. "They'll scare off the prey. We haven't caught much since the clerics' ritual, we need whatever we can get."

"We can't take down a human," Brightpaw said.

"There are a few things we can do to drive them off their hunt," Elmsprout said, ears angled toward the distant barking. "Let's see if they're on RippleClan territory." Elmsprout jogged toward the hunters, kicking up snow behind her. Brightpaw shook snow off his back and hurried after Elmsprout while Trumpetspore raced along the trees.

The breeze carried the human's scent to Brightpaw. It stun his nose like cinders. The smell of a crazed dog added depth to the scent. One of Brightpaw's earliest memories was of a barn dog gently sniffing his fur while Estherfern watched closely. They could be gentle giants, but no dog would stay calm when a thunder-stick exploded in its master's grip.

The human and their dog lingered within sight of the Great Northern River. The human, dressed in thick brown leathers, carried a long branch in their gangly paws. A muscular white dog with thick jowls and a bobbed tail stared joyfully at its master. It held a mourning dove in its jaws, which it presented to the human with a muffled bark. The human stroked the dog's head and took the dove out of its mouth.

"This is worse than I thought," Trumpetspore whispered, scampering into the underbrush with Elmsprout and Brightpaw. "They're bird hunting. We need those birds!"

"How do we stop them?" Brightpaw asked, crouched into the snow.

"It's dangerous," Elmsprout muttered, "but we may have to drive the dog away from its human. If we rile the beast up and lead it away, when its human finds it again, they may be so cold and angry that they'll give up the hunt and return home."

"Brightpaw, you should climb into the trees and watch us," Trumpetspore said. "Apprentices shouldn't have to fight off dogs."

"He'll be an adult next moon," Elmsprout pointed out. "He can help."

"We've lost two apprentices in three moons," Trumpetspore huffed. There was a weight to her voice Brightpaw had never heard before. "I'm still Brightpaw's mentor. He's staying in the trees." Brightpaw wanted to interject, but his words were stillborn.

When Trumpetspore nodded to the pine beside her, Brightpaw dutifully climbed the trunk. He danced around the needles, fearing the hunter would mistake him for a squirrel and fire lightning from their thunder-stick. The human scanned the forest while their dog scampered around their feet. The human's thunder-stick was almost as long as they were tall, with a sharp needle at the end. The thunder-stick's hollow end followed the human's gaze. Elmsprout and Trumpetspore crept through the snow, stiffening with every crunch. They moved behind the human and their dog, keeping an eye on Brightpaw in the tree.

Elmsprout and Trumpetspore yowled as loud as they could. The dog jumped up, barking with enough force to deafen Brightpaw. The human startled, thunder-stick angled toward Elmsprout and Trumpetspore's hiding spot, but cats were not their prey. They barked at their dog and gently placed the thunder-stick in the snow. The dog lunged toward the cauterwauling cats, spit flying from its loose lips. The human snatched its brown collar and pulled the dog back. The dog choked and whined, but pushed against its master, desperate to find the noisy mollies.

All Brightpaw wanted was to jump to the tree closer to his mentor, just in case. That's what he tried to do, at least. It wasn't a hard jump. He steadied his paws on the hanging branch. His tail twitched rapidly, quickly adjusting his balance. He eyed the shorter pine beside Elmsprout and Trumpetspore. An easy jump. So why then did Brightpaw find himself skidding against the snow-laden branches and tumbling through the pine needles?

Brightpaw landed on all four paws with a sharp yowl, just in front of Elmsprout and Trumpetspore. His body was soaked with half-melted snow. The shock of the fall slammed through his legs and seemed to stop his heart for a moment. Elmsprout and Trumpetspore stopped yowling, but the dog howled behind Brightpaw. The human yowled as Brightpaw turned around. The dog's strength was too much. The human couldn't pull on the dog's collar anymore. The collar slipped from the human's deformed paws. The dog launched itself as Brightpaw, lost in the frenzy of the hunt.

The dog's teeth, still red with bird blood, pierced Brightpaw's shoulder. Its whole mouth fit around Brightpaw's back. It lifted Brightpaw off the ground as Elmsprout and Trumpetspore watched on, as frozen as the ice that dribbled down the trees. Brightpaw shrieked, claws flailing. His back paw snagged the dog's gangly lips, but the dog didn't care. It turned to its master, presenting the newfound catch with stunning naiveity.

A sandy paw came down on the dog's muzzle. The dog spat Brightpaw out onto the human's feet. The human growled at the dog, reaching toward Brightpaw. Even though his body burned against the snow, Brightpaw scrambled for shelter. He ran into Elmsprout and Trumpetspore, who quickly pressed against him, purring. The human howled at their dog, but that was no longer any of the patrol's concern. They raced through the snow, everything else forgotten.

"I'm sorry!" Brightpaw cried as his wild paws crunched against heavy snow. "I'm sorry! I don't know why I did that!"

"You fell, it happens," Elmsprout said, taking the lead. "We've stopped their hunt. The bite isn't too severe, the clerics can clean the wound and bandage your shoulders." That meant more time with Estherfern… was Brightpaw ready for that?

He supposed he had to be.

(Brightpaw: 11, male, warrior apprentice, lonesome, lover of art)

(Elmsprout: 46, female, caretaker, charismatic, helpful insight)

(Trumpetspore: 40, female, warrior, nervous, excellent potter, good storyteller)