#next step: flea medicine

[lonepower]

HOUSTON WE HAVE A PURR

[dwellordream]

On the Black Death in Africa and Asia, and the interconnected Middle Ages, by Eleanor Janega

“…See, the thing is that one of the weird myths I have to deal with all the time is that the Black Death was somehow a European experience, as opposed to an Afro-Eurasian one, and that Europeans were uniquely attacked by it because of something stupid/gross/superstitious that they did that everyone else avoided. Sometimes that’s people saying Europeans killed all their cats and so rats proliferated. Sometimes its people saying that Europeans didn’t bathe and therefore germs spread. (Of course, that’s beside the point anyway, because last time I checked fleas, which are what spreads plague, DGAF about how clean you are, but OK! Europeans still bathed! I am so tired!)

Sometimes, it’s people saying that Europeans’ backwards medical ideas involving the humoral system is to blame. (The entire Arabic world also believed in the humoral system! The only thing that works to treat the plague is antibiotics! No one in the entire world had medicine that could fight this until the nineteenth century!) Sometimes its people saying that Europeans threw sewage in the streets. (They didn’t, but I’ll have to talk about that another time. And also! Plague comes from fleas! Which do not live in human excrement anyway! So that’s really beside the point! And even when it’s pneumonic not bubonic it spreads via droplets! Which are in your breath! Not excrement! Oh my god!)

But here’s the thing, if any of that were true, (and it isn’t) that would mean that the theoretically smarter rest-of-the-world wouldn’t be affected by the Black Death at all because they were having a bath with their cat next to a fully piped sewage system while not believing in humoral theory or something.

Fun fact! No.

Now we might not have a lot of sources from the totally collapsed Silk Road cities, etc., but we do have a lot from our friends in the Middle East. And they are here to tell you that everyone was having a hard time, and they had a pretty clear idea of how the plague spread.

The historian Ibn al-Wardī (c.1291 – 1349), writing in Aleppo described the onslaught of the plague thusly:

“The plague frightened and killed. It began in the land of darkness [Northern Asia]. Oh what a visitor! It has been current for fifteen years. China was not preserved from it, nor could the strongest fortress hinder it. The plague afflicted the Indians in India. It weighed upon the Sind. It seized with it’s hand and ensnared even the lands of the Uzbeks. How many backs did it break in what is Transoxiana! The plague increased and spread further. It attacked the Persians, extended its steps toward the land of the Khitai, and gnawed away at the Crimea. It pelted Rum with live coals and led the outrage to Cyprus and the islands. The plague destroyed mankind in Cairo. Its eye was cast upon Egypt, and behold, the people were wide-awake.”

“… Oh Alexandria, this plague is like a lion which extends its arm to you. Have patience with the fate of the plague, which leaves of seventy men only seven. … The plague attacked Gaza, and it shook ‘Asqalan severyly. The plague oppressed Acre. The scourge came to Jerusalem … It overtook those people who fled to the al-‘Aqsa Mosque, which stands beside the Dome of the Rock. If the door of mercy had not been opened, the end of the world would have occurred in a moment. It, then, hastened its pace and attacked the entire maritime plain. The plague trapped Sidon and descended unexpectedly upon Beirut, cunningly. Next, it directed the shooting of its arrows to Damascus. There the plague sat like a king on a throne and swayed with power, killing daily one thousand or more and decimating the population.”[6]

He died of the plague.

Later, writing in Algeria, the historian Ibn Khaldûn (1332-1406) said of the pestilence that “It swallowed up many of the good things of civilization and wiped them out. It overtook dynasties at the time of their senility, when they had reached the limit of their duration. It lessened their power and curtailed their influence. It weakened their authority. Their situation approached the point of annihilation and dissolution. Civilization decreased with the decrease of mankind. Cities and buildings were laid waste, roads and way signs were obliterated, settlements and mansions became empty, dynasties and tribes grew weak. The entire inhabited world changed. The East, it seems, was similarly visited, though in accordance with and in proportion to (its more affluent) civilization. It was as if the voice of existence in the world had called out for oblivion and restriction, and the world had responded to its call. God inherits the earth and all who dwell upon it. … it is as if the entire creation had changed and the whole world been altered”.[7]

So, this is all very depressing, but I think it’s important that I lay this all out here for everyone’s perusal. Because the thing is until we begin to approach the medieval world as an interconnected place, weird myths are going to persist. As a Europeanist I am as guilty as anyone of aiding those who want to create a world where the Black Death is a phenomenon that happened on one continent to a group of uniquely stupid people. If no one sees the sources where our friends in Asia and Africa discuss the horrors around them, then of course they are going to continue to believe that the Black Death is something that happens when the Pope takes a disliking to cats. Or something.

I’m not writing this, however, just to defend Europe. I checked, these people are all dead and probably fine. I’m writing it because persisting with the myth that everywhere other than Europe was actually an enlightened paradise does a major disservice to those histories as well. Whole communities collapsed. Death was everywhere. The historians who wanted you to understand the chaos and pain happening all around them died of that plague and if we don’t witness that, then it’s for nothing.

Further, to pretend that only idiots couldn’t figure out that this pestilence was spread by germs in fleas is actually calling all our friends in Africa and Asia stupid as well. Because they also didn’t have germ theory, and they also died in huge numbers. This does not make them foolish.

We can’t go back in time and save the hundreds of millions of people who died of the Black Death in Afro-Eurasia. What we can do from our safe distance of almost seven hundred years, behind a wall of antibiotics, is to at least do them the service of acknowledging their experience and not calling them stupid. These were real people who lived in a complex world and were doing their best in it. Frankly, if you chose to ignore their suffering and their own testaments to it, then you are the one who is ignorant.

Societies are not a hierarchy, and we don’t need to impose one. We certainly don’t need to go back in time to do that either. Ideas of a divided medieval world where people from different continents were all separate and doing totally different things do nothing but serve to uphold outdated and racist ideas of the pre-modern world. Don’t do that in a rush to condemn Europe for its modern problems.”

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 16th

Day 16: Speech/Movement Restriction, Body Worship (Genitals), Vampires/Werewolves

Max Phillips x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Vampirism, Lycanthropy, insults, changing, mentions of bestiality,

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Fucking werewolves. Of all the fucking supernatural things he could fall for, he has to fall for a fucking dog.

Max wrinkles his nose, the smell of wet dog never a particularly pleasant one, and with his enhanced sense of smell, it’s magnified. 

Max Phillips isn’t human, no, his humanity was taken away years ago. He’s a vampire. A natural enemy of werewolves, which really confuses him when his cock gets hard at the furry form of his girl. 

“Fuck, do I need to dip you for fleas?” He grumbles, rolling his eyes and spraying some of the air freshener around the room. “Or did you roll around in something dead?”

“Fuck off, Max.” Your voice is decidedly human and he grins when he hears the annoyance in your tone. Obviously just changed back and probably pretty tired from running around all night, howling at the moon. 

“What’s the matter, puppy?” He teases, walking into the bathroom to find you standing in front of the full length mirror, naked and examining your body for any marks that will heal absurdly fast anyway. Leaning against the door, he snaps his fingers. “Shit, I forgot your dog treat.”

“Shut up, or I will eat a plate full of garlic, you vitamin D deficient blood bag.” You throw him a scowl, but that just makes his grin grow even wider.

“Technically, you’re the blood bag, furry.” He teases, ducking when you throw your towel at him. “Awwww did your tail get knotted up, baby?”

You roll your eyes, wondering why the fuck you put up with the heartless wonder. Reminding yourself that the sex is pretty good, but you still smirk as you open the medicine cabinet. “Fuck with me and I’ll replace your sunscreen.” You threaten, enjoying the way his grin slides off his face and the wounded expression replaces it. 

“Hey..that’s not cool.” He grumbles. “You know I’m sensitive to the fucking fireball in the sky.” 

You make a sizzling noise, laughing when he flashes his fangs at you. “Okay, go make me some food.” You wave him away. “I need to shower and then sleep for a million minutes.”

“Awww babe.” He pouts and pokes out his lower lip at you. “I was gonna get in the shower with you.” “No you weren’t.” You open the glass door and smirk over your shoulder. “Because you called me a furry.” 

“Babe, I like your fur.” He whines, looking offended that you are denying him a shower with you. “I was teasing you.” 

“Go floss your fang, Max.” You huff, stepping into the shower. 

“Fluffy…..” He groans. “I’ll scratch under your chin…” 

“Fuck off, Max!” 

“You’re so touchy after you regrow your skin.”

****

Your relationship with Max is one that despite your teasing, is actually pretty amazing. He understands that you have things that you can’t control. Like his bloodlust, you can’t help that your human form falls away every full moon. Turning into a monster with razor sharp claws and teeth that are perhaps even sharper than Max’s. 

Now the next month has rolled around, the moon looming over your schedule. It’s always a pain in the ass, but you also love the freeing sense of being the biggest and baddest out in the forest at night. 

You’re aware of yourself while you are in that state, it’s just that your more animalistic instincts take over. You want to hunt, eat. Fuck. 

The small cabin in the woods was a place where you could be safe. Or, others could be safe from you. Nothing was around for miles. You start to slip out of your clothes, knowing that when the moon appears, you would shred anything you were wearing. It was better to just start the process naked. 

“Fuck baby.” He smirks as he watches you undress, eyes dark and eyebrows waggling. “I wonder if I’m going to get the horny or hungry little puppy tonight.” 

You roll your eyes and huff, smirking slightly. “One of these days I’m going to bite you.” 

“Oh, promises, promises.” He waggles eyebrows again and flashes his teeth at you playfully. “I want you to bite me. Make getting that pussy a challenge.” 

You snort and walk over to Max, sliding your arms around his neck. “Keep me on the mountain.” You tell him seriously, not wanting to hurt anyone and his vampiric strength can keep you here. 

“You stink.” Max’s nose wrinkles, leaning back slightly and smirking at you when you roll his eyes. “Did you shower?” 

“Fuck you, Max.” You huff, shoving at him, but he holds you close. 

“I’ll keep you here, babe.” He promises, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “Gotta keep my little fur ball happy.” 

****

Max always watches as you transform. Finding it fascinating that his very human girlfriend grows to over seven feet tall and is built like a brick shithouse covered in dark, surprisingly soft, fur. The loss of boobs was something that he was sad about when you are in your furry form but for some reason, the pussy was fucking amazing when he had to lift that tail to hit it from behind.

He stands in the trees, giving you the room you need to thrash about. It was good that he was supernatural as well, because the first time you changed, you had clawed the shit out of him. If he wasn’t undead, it would have left a hell of a nasty scar.  

“Awooooooooooooh!” Max winches, finding you really loud when you are baying at the moon, but he doesn’t grumble about it too much. 

There’s something about the way that you look as a creature of the night. Something that appeals to him sexually. He had never thought about fucking a werewolf until you. Until he saw you as a werewolf. Until he fucked you as one. Or rather, you fucked him. 

The sniffing of the air brings him back to the moment. Watching as you turn yellow eyes on him. Your smart, sassy little mouth elongated into a powerful snout and a set of jaws that could crush bone. 

His nude body is pale in the large moon, figuring he didn’t want those claws going through another Hermēs tie. Plus there was something rather exhilarating about chasing after a wolf with not a fucking stitch of clothing on. Getting back to his roots in his mind. 

“Here Fido.” He snickers, waving you over and chuckling when he hears you growl. “Down girl.” He teases, knowing that you can’t hit him with those snappy comebacks right now. “You know that you have to be a good girl.” 

That’s not apparently the mood you were in. One arm swiping out and knocking him onto his back, snapping your jaws inches from his pretty face as you loom over him. 

“You wanna ride?” Max asks, immediately reaching for your fur covered hips to move you into place since he’s already hard. He gets hard watching you change. Turning on by the mere fact that he fucks a werewolf. It was quite the brag amongst other vampires. 

Your snout comes down and you nuzzle his hard cock, making him moan when your long, wolfish tongue comes out to run along the length. “That’s it, Fluffy.” He groans. “Get it nice and wet for your canine cunt.” He chuckles. “You’re gonna wag your tail while you bounce on my cock and bay at the moon tonight.” 

[dawngen]

The walk of shame back to camp was undeniable.

All eyes fixed on Dappleddusk and Oatstar as they nudged their way through one of the hidden entryways into the camp, and Dappleddusk felt it keenly. Her fur felt flea-bitten with how keenly her clanmates stared, though she felt a smidge better knowing she had not only been able to convince Oatstar to return, but also to hold his head high.

Even if it was not what he felt, he had to appear and play the part of the leader he was supposed to be.

Whispers rippled through, and Dappleddusk silenced them with a sweep of her cold yellow stare. She walked with Oatstar until they were at the base of the Great Oak, going to sit in her spot at its roots as he clambered up.

"Cats of DawnClan," Oatstar began, his voice echoing out over the clearing, and drawing back his once dispersed audience. "I... I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly. But StarClan granted me a vision in the forest."

Dappleddusk's ears twitched.

She hadn't expected him to apologize, let alone follow it up with a lie. A bold-faced one that she could see in her doubting peers' expressions, the gaggle of medicine cats whispering in concern in the far back of the group. Beewatcher caught her eye, shooting a worried look.

Dappleddusk glanced back away. Her stomach turned uneasily, like she had eaten crowfood.

"Eagleburn will find redemption in guiding DawnClan," Oatstar declared. Dappleddusk could hear Sandfeather hiss, and saw Sparrowshadow move to console her out of the corner of her eye. She continued to stare ahead, off into the distance beyond the camp.

"StarClan has shown me that while the crime of killing another cat, let alone a clanmate, is an impossible sin, it is one that under these special circumstances can be forgiven if Eagleburn works hard to prove his loyalty to the clan," continued Oatstar, tail tip flicking back and forth. "I won't listen to any protests about this. This was the decree of StarClan--and we shall not defy them."

He knows how to talk big when he feels like this, Dappleddusk thought to herself, and wondered how many times Eagleburn had coached him through past speeches. How much of it was Eagleburn, and how much of it was Oatstar? Was that cat even capable of individual thought?

She felt deafened, numbed to the whispers in the camp and did not try to quiet her clanmates again, and luckily, it did not seem to perturb Oatstar. She imagined he was feeling better knowing Eagleburn would soon be back to clean up his messes.

"Eagleburn will be reinstated at the next light of dawn. If you disagree with this, then..."

Hearing a flicker of hesitance in his voice, Dappleddusk glanced up. She could tell this was off-script, newly thought of, and focused on one particular set of cats. She followed his gaze, and it landed upon Bayspots' kits.

"You are welcome to leave. No warrior that chooses to go will be harmed, but they will not be allowed to return to DawnClan. Not if they can't stand by its decisions."

Like a river waiting to overflow, the camp burst into chaos.

Sandfeather, seemingly about to cool down, yowled her fury, barely held back by Sparrowshadow and Suntuft. Leopardchaser seemed pleased, smug even, but was wisely stepping out of swiping range of Sandfeather as he went to the warriors' den.

In the distance, Dappleddusk caught a glimpse of Brightstorm shrinking back away from her devastated kit, and when she looked away, back to the Great Oak, Oatstar was already clambering down.

"Oatstar, you cannot just--"

"If they want to make decisions, they can make decisions out on their own."

Oatstar cut off her whispered hiss with a sharp murmur back, his ears flat to his skull as he stalked swiftly off to the medicine cats' den before anyone could intercept him.

Shocked, dismayed, and caught in a rare state of uncertainty of what to do, Dappleddusk caught her daughter's eye again, and Beewatcher's gaze seemed to reflect her same internal anxiety.

[prommethium]

Today is election day in Mexico. The current government party did two good things and two only:

Axolotls on the 50 pesos bills

Legalisation of igualitary marriage in all states.

The next president of Mexico will be a woman. I hope it wins the indigenous one, and I really, really hope that instead of getting drunk by power, it shows Mexicans that a mujer indígena cabrona can do it better than centuries of incompetent idiots.

The relationships with some countries ended because of a lack of reliability; they dismantled democracy (no more regulatory institutions, no more federal commissions dedicated to the people, and the elimination of state autonomy). The army is on the street, and the land no longer belongs to people (it is owned by the state and borrowed through 'concesiones'; it cannot be inherited). According to the authorities, feminicides are girls who return to homes after a few days, or they probably left their home and don't want to return (since their bodies haven't been found). The current president advised using talismans and prayers to cure COVID. The current authorities have sworn to end violence through "hugs, no bullets," and they have made alliances with gangs (there is evidence of the reception of money, drugs, and weapons and the agreement of deals that favour groups dedicated to the human, drug, and weapon trade; the moment our president steps on USA land, he can be apprehended to face his crimes, which he mocks).

Through my life, I've seen the violence that incompetent and arrogant politicians have sent while running this country. But it's the first time I really fear for our liberty, autonomy, and democracy. This current party sits on the table of populists and socialists, and despite the sweet promises of socialism, it cannot work when people who want power and money implement it when the country has no resources. My parents own 3 houses; they rent one, the other they lend to my aunt (they don't get anything in return), and the other is the one where they live. Authorities threatened to take them away. Why three houses? Certainly, they don't need that many. For my parents, who don't have pensions, in some years that little income will be their only source of sustenance. If this current party wins again, they are taking those houses of "rich people" to give them to the ones who are in need of a home.

We have had water and electricity during the last 2 weeks. I hope people remember that it was THEM who took it away from us to sell it. I hope they remember that medicine to kill fleas was given in Mexico City as a COVID vaccine. I hope they remember how they wasted millions on a train that looked like it was made in the 1960s and, in six years, couldn't be finished. I hope they remember how money for the people who speak a native language was taken away, the decrease of school hours at public schools (from 5 to 3 hours per day), and the pictures of the authorities relatives at luxury houses abroad when they don't own businesses or ways to prove that the money used to buy supercars is theirs.

[havocs-wc-stuff]

SorrelClan - Moon 5

------

Clearstar called a gathering in the center of camp at the start of the new moon. The cause of celebration? Softpaw's graduation from apprenticeship! The young tom looked at the ground for most of Clearstar's speech, pointedly avoiding his mentor's eyes. He was incredibly nervous but also knew he must be ready to be a warrior by now, otherwise the ceremony wouldn't be happening.

Clearstar nudged Softpaw, and he looked up with a small jump. He stood up properly next to him and looked at the clan cats gathered around them. He pushed past his anxiety and smiled at Leapheart as he was renamed to Softcrash.

------

The same afternoon Softcrash was on his way back to the warriors den when he suddenly felt an intense dizziness and could no longer walk straight. He decided it was better to find Dazzlemurk than struggle through the pain.

In contrast to Softcrash the rest of the clan seemed to be in near perfect health. Quiverspots and Sunnydaisy's tails have both healed, and Dazzlemurk no longer had any fleas. This turned out to be good for him though, as the healer could devote more attention to treating his heat exhaustion.

------

Marigoldfreckle seemed to be oblivious to Quiverspots' gaze lingering on him, despite several different cats trying to point it out. Quiverspots complained about it to Sunnydaisy later, and the pair shared a small chuckle over the other warrior's tunnel vision.

Leapheart and Softcrash visited Olivepaw in the medicine den nearly every day, to talk about goings-on in the clan and to share prey with him. The apprentice appreciated the distraction, as spending all his time lying in a nest got rather lonely over the several moons he had been there.

------

Finally, some luck! Dazzlemurk thanked StarClan when, while out on patrol, he and Sunnydaisy found some mallow to bring back for the herb stores. He trotted back home with a spring in his step and had a bright, cheerful mood for the rest of the day.

------

Clearstar suggested the idea of a short training session to Duskpelt, and she agreed. However she was called away at the last minute by another cat and couldn't go. He understood but drooped down sadly, walking off to find something else to do.

------

One afternoon Leapheart, Marigoldfreckle, and Quiverspots left on a patrol together. An hour in, Quiverspots started smelling the scent of another clan within the border. The patrol slowed their pace, listening for signs of any enemy cats ahead.

It wasn't long before they heard a twig snap, and they dashed towards the source of the noise. What they were greeted with was not a hostile warrior however. Instead they found an apprentice from their neighbor Fuzzclan. The young cat looked terrified, and hurriedly explained that she was lost and didn't mean to cross the border.

Quiverspots understood but still lectured the young cat on border lines and how they needed to be respected. The patrol and the apprentice parted ways after a while and the trio of warriors headed back home.

------

Again, not much happening this moon either. I don't want to meddle too much but the pace is pretty slow at this rate so I might. But just a little. ( mainly with relationships hehehe >:3 )

And yea I might be introducing ships a bit too early on but plot needs to happen somehow.. Marigoldfreckle/Quiverspots likely in the future (Marispots? Quiverfreckle? idk).

[pikaclan]

Moon 567

Season: Greenleaf

Ceremonies

Runningleaf can hardly believe how quickly time has passed since Whiskerpaw was a kit. It still feels like yesterday they were tumbling around the nursery, though after their broken back, it has taken them time to heal and is 18 moons. That doesn't matter to Runningleaf though, as misty-eyed with pride and joy, Runningleaf throws their head back and tries to cheer the loudest as Whiskerpaw is named Whiskerburr and honored for their appreciation

Jadekick gives Dazzlepaw a friendly nudge when the leader calls the young cat's name. They watch with pride as Dazzlepaw steps forward to receive their new name, Dazzleswipe, and are honored for their risk-taking

Dogpaw stands tall and puffs out their chest as Cinderstar announces they are ready for their warrior name. They are given the name Dogshock after their decisiveness

Gorgepaw looks around at their Clanmates with adoration while Cinderstar announces that their new name will be Gorgesight after their ambition. Gorgesight is happy to be a warrior now, but mostly just want to celebrate with their Clan, whether it's for them or not

Teaselpaw has decided that hunting and fighting is not the way they want to provide for their Clan. Instead, they have chosen to serve their Clan by healing and communing with StarClan. Pebbletree proudly becomes their mentor. This is allowed as Popreed is 134 moons and retires to the elder's den

Almost immediately after Icepaw touches noses with Shiningfrost, they start asking about when they're going to go out and explore the territory

Newly-made apprentice, Clawpaw, touches noses with their new mentor, Chiquitotuft

Bitterkit loudly complains as Hollowminnow pulls them over to quickly groom their pelt. They manage to wriggle away and scurry off to the front of the crowd for their ceremony, where they are renamed to Bitterpaw and apprenticed to Whiskerburr

Sproutkit loudly complains as Hollowminnow pulls them over to groom their pelt. They wriggle away and scurry to the front of the crowd for their ceremony, where they are renamed Sproutpaw and apprenticed to Dude

Misc

Fleckflit was seen playing with a kittypet over the border

Health

The SplinterClan medicine cat asks for burdock and we provide Cinderstar got heat exhaustion Snipgorse's bruises healed Gravelmimic accidentally crossed the border on patrol and got their ear torn by an enemy warrior Fleckflit's broken bone healed Hemlockroar got fleas Pebbletree's runing nose stopped Frostytalon's bruises healed Mintyrise got heat exhaustion Icepaw took a tumble off a rock while practicing battle moves. They'll be a bit tender for the next few days

Patrols

It is almost dawn when the deputy rouses Icepaw for an assesment: find Shiningfrost wandering the territory and attack them as if they were an enemy warrior. Icepaw is jumping in the shadows. Everything around them seems like a predator waiting to pounce. Where could Shiningfrost be hiding? They wish that Shiningfrost would hurry up and come out. Wait, is that . . .? Icepaw charges towards the bulky shape of another cat in the dark. However, this is not Shiningfrost. The smell of a foreign cat washes over Icepaw.

Icepaw died

Sleek is tempted to eat the prey they just caught. After all, the patrol has caught enough on this hunt that they'll have trouble carrying it all back to camp. They stop for a quick snack and return to camp laden with prey for the fresh-kill pile

The patrol hears desperate screams from a nearby lake. They attempt to help the old kittypet from their cruel twoleg. Unfortunately Hollowminnow was just a tad too slow and got kicked quite hard against a tree. Gravelmimic order the patrol to protect and carry hollowminnow while they retreat, with pain in their heart for the cat they couldn't save

Hollowminnow got: head damage

Hmm. The LionClan scent marks on this area of the border seem a little more faint that usual. Opportunity or trap - it's possible to succeed if it's either, or both. Drizzleivy charges across the border, straight into LionClan territory and past the patrol lying in wait to ambush them, hurling past the trap, making a long loop to get back to their own border. That'll show those mangy LionClan foxpelts! Drizzleicy receives a code strike for his actions

Dogshock finds a wounded cat near the Thunderpath and rushes them back to camp

Lynzi (male) joins the Clan with a broken bone. He is intact

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

1.7.24 Sunday

3:11 am

Still,have windblow....I feel fat and ugly....Whew!

I hate being compared!

7:43 am

Still, have windblow....Thank God! I paid some of my credits...

But I still need to thrift and I hope my family will understand that they need still to assist me for awhile coz I'm not yet a regular employee...

I need to save for my travels....I need some for myself..

Probably I will give myself a foot spa later...

8:14 am

Uncle DD is with Neko this am, removing her ticks and fleas... I'm feeding her if they are not here but I can't handle her anymore on her ticks and fleas coz I'm tired everyday...

I have to cook lunch and dinner here again... The food are still given by Uncle DD...

Me? Let's just wait for my next salary coz I paid some credits then I need to give a lil for myself such as a foot spa.

I will cook a chicken adobo and a beef steak today... If I'm here in the house, I'm the chef coz we can't afford to get assistant... Basically, my Saturday is my laundry day...

Uncle Jun went to his office with his bestfriend gang lead by George???

8:20 am

I just wanna be presentable,hoping to be perfect if Daddy will be here and will willing to give me a car... hahaha Thanks Daddy for the Salary....

I will do my foot spa later...A treat for myself...

9:23 am

Future down there...Hmm... hahah...

This Daddy is super tall... I don't like if its too tall... But this Daddy 1 is cute... 6'4" too tall but cute... I just want around 5"10 until 5'11"not a 6 footer...

My Daddies angels...

10:51 am

It looks yummy coz it is YUMMY...

11:09 am

This is just my ordinary chicken adobo...

11:58 am

Something is strange on Uncle Jun... A big mystery...

1:01 pm

Hmm...Uncle DD is strange... He ordered Crysette to ask me if Neko already ate, he is assisting Neko awhile ago... It seems a weird character... He can feed Neko now they are here... A weird behaviour...

When Uncle DD is here he can feed his dog Neko.... That's his dog....He asked a maid me? To feed his dog... If they are here,they can feed their dog...Uncle DD is changing his behaviour...

1:26 pm

The hassle,we can't use the outside faucet coz that is their source of water inside their house here, still connected here in the main house...

How can we clean John's floor mat? I gave Uncle Jun a Silka lotion, I know it is simple act but I'm still on thrift I asked him a favour to clean John's floor mat. IT IS A BIG FAVOUR OR PLEASE FOR NOW ON UNCLE JUN TO CLEAN JOHN'S FLOOR MAT... I know it is just cheap that "Silka Lotion" but John is asking a favour as his Uncle Jun to please help mommy Peachy to wash his floormat...

I'm so tired, I'm cleaning the living room and kitchen area in a way, everyday... So, I'm tired... But I have to work and I need to keep a job... I need money.... My heart is always humble and never a plastics heart... My starter money in Conduent came from a friend and from "Tala"... Thanks for Doc Ibias support whenever I needed medicine they can back me up in times of Emergency...

When Uncle DD and Aunt Karen gave something on me here, I always appreciate it and posted it here... But they couldn't assist me correctly.

Now, I'm thinking where will I have my "foot spa"??? Probably just there in Savemore...

1:38 pm

Late afternoon will have my "foot spa" ... I hope there will be n o jealousy on their part or Uncle Jun part... It is just a "foot spa" for now...

1:45 pm

I need a job and I feel hurt sometimes here that they are super jealous of me... They always stepped on me... Always stepping on me most specially for 17 years... They are smashing me here... I have a self-pity here everyday... New friends knew my situation. Sometimes I wanted to cry, I really wanted to cry...

1:54 pm

I need to do "foot spa" coz my foot are super ugly now, even my hands...

I feel conscious even on Daddy, if ever Daddy wants to meet me and see my feet, I feel so conscious...

Most specially down there.. I wanted to be presentable on Daddy... Or as a woman it is natural to be presentable to attract more mature men...

It is my "legal right" as a woman to feel pretty and fix myself... Be confident, in a way...Don't take it away from me, the right to be beautiful and the right to be acknowledge as having a "pretty face with a humble heart" in the society.

2:05 pm

It is my "legal right" to be pretty and to be likeable by mature men or Daddy.... I'm self-pitying on being there at the Pittx terminal... It is a thing that it is somehow painful in my part.

I need to work and I need money... I wanna do some things....Only Daddy can understand...

2:19 pm

I still have windblow.... I hate being compared and I hate being 2nd choice... I'm self-pitying...

6:25 pm

Reviving my souL...

[amaimpex]

Which Plant Does Black Pepper Come From

Black pepper derives from the Piper NIgum plant that belongs to the Piperaceae family of black pepper. This is developed from fruit from the flower of the black pepper plant. It is native to the Malabar Coast of India. It was cultivated mainly in South Asia and gained massive popularity as an effective contaminant.

Black pepper became one of the widely used spices on the Malabar Coast Of India and in the tropics of the South East Asian Region. Additionally, it became an important spice in the trade between India and Europe.  Moreover, it became an important trade factor between India and Europe. Also known as an important medium of exchange. Later, black pepper was introduced in every part of Indonesia and has been used widely in the tropic region of Africa and the western hemisphere. Black pepper exporter in India is rising day by day underpinned by increasing exporting practices; this is leading to stimulating another spice supplier in India to become a part of the spice export practice. 

It has been used widely throughout the globe as it is believed to have numerous health properties that help people cure their severe diseases. It is used widely as it is believed to have other properties that help in treating other things as well. Let's see the other factor in which it is being used. Apart from black pepper being used in the traditional methods of medicine preparation. Let's find the solution, how to get rid of rat infestation inside and outside the house.

How to Get Rid Of Rats with Black Pepper

Rats Cause Serious Diseases: 

Rat infestation is a serious concern. Having rats inside the house is a serious concern, as they put you at disease risk and are known to carry dangerous diseases. Therefore, they are highly known as a carrier of hepatitis E and typhus. Flea-borne typhus disease, which is spread to people through infected rats. Rats become flea infected when they eat infected animals. Hence, you are supposed to pay attention to removing the rat infestation whether it is inside or outside your house.

The primary step is to inspect the area they are entering from, the areas are majorly cracked and damaged drains can be their access points. 

After inspecting the areas, the next step is to close them by using wire wools, metal plates, and cement to fill the gaps. These methods will restrict their entry through those gaps. 

Use Black Pepper To Eliminate The Entered Rats Or Rat Infestation.  

Black pepper acts as a natural poison to kill rats. It highly contains a concentration of black pepper chemicals called pipeline, its chemical compound seems as powerful as any other strong homemade compounds poison. Additionally, it can be measured by the term LD50 of 514mg. 

Moreover, this is one of the most effective homemade poisons that can be used safely for rat elimination. Additionally, there are more ways to eliminate rats from your house safely without killing them. The below-mentioned are effective ways to keep rats at bay

Setting traps 

Closing and cleaning the areas they enter from

Using dry ice to eliminate reduce and eliminate the rats

Conclusion:  the above-mentioned are effective ways to eliminate rat infestations from the house without killing them safely. Keep rat-borne infections at bay as they can be a serious risk. Preparing tea must be familiar to you but the addition of different flavored spices can spice up the aroma of the tea.

[transparenthologramrebel]

Part two of chapter two electric boogaloo

The three returned to camp shortly before sundown. The camp was bathed in a soft warm fading red color. The camp usually looked beautiful at this time of day, yet the destruction made it look ominous, chaotic, and empty. Hanging from Hollyleaf’s jaws was a squirrel and Lionblaze carried two voles. 

“Lionblaze, Hollyleaf you’re back!” Cinderheart called trotting over to the trio.

“I’m heading to the medicine den. Leafpool and I need to sort these herbs out before it gets too dark.” Jayfeather informed his siblings, walking away. Lionblaze dropped his kills and head bundted  Cinderheart, who reciprocated. 

“I brought you back freshkill, just like I promised,” Lionblaze purred. Hollyleaf stood behind her brother and wanted to claw his fur off. How could he be thinking about mates at a time like this? Even more so with Cinderheart, her best friend? Cinderheart purred, picking up one of the voles.

“Thank you! Would you like to eat with us, Hollyleaf?” She asked. Hollyleaf shook her head dropping her squirrel. 

“No, thank you, I should see if Brambleclaw needs me to do anything.” she said quickly, picking up her squirrel trotting away. The last thing she wanted to do right now was be around her brother and Cinderheart. 

“They have all the right to be happy together. I just wish it wasn’t right now. I need them both right now…” Hollyleaf thought to herself as she left her squirrel on the new freshkill pile. She didn’t have an appetite right now. “I wonder how long it will be till she starts sleeping in his nest?” That thought made her feel hollow and alone. Cinderheart and Hollyleaf had been best friends since apprentice hood. They had always shared a nest, even now. The thought of Cinderheart no longer being next to her made her feel even more alone than her current problems already did. Hollyleaf looked over to the warriors den. Cinderheart and Foxpaw had done a lot of good work already. Half of the den had been repaired, but there were still large blatant holes in the den’s exterior. Ashfur slinked over to the den from the nursery having finished repairing one of the sides. Hollyleaf caught his gaze and the two stared each other down from across the camp. Ashfur’s eyes were dark, threatening. Hollyleaf flexed her claws, staring him down unblinking with her own ferocity.

“I will stop you. I’ll save Thunderclan and the warrior code, by shutting your jaws. That is my promise to you Ashfur.” Hollyleaf thought, her pelt quivering with hatred. Ashfur narrowed his eyes and slipped into the warrior's den. Thought of having to share a den with him tonight made Hollyleaf’s fur crawl as if she were covered in fleas.  She turned away from the warrior's den. 

Hollyleaf’s paws lead her to the medicine cat den. She stuck her head inside to see Leafpool and Jayfeather busy sorting the herbs they had collected. Leafpool turned her head, looking at Hollyleaf over her shoulder.

“Hollyleaf are you alright? Do you need something?” Leafpool asked, walking over. Hollyleaf purred, happy to see Leafpool. While her apprenticeship with Leafpool had been short, the two had remained close. Hollyleaf trusted and respected Leafpool greatly, even if they were no longer kin. 

“I...I don’t feel safe in Warriors den. I watched it burn the other night. Being inside makes me feel claustrophobic.” Hollyleaf lied. Leafpool purred and licked her head.

“You can stay here tonight and I can give you poppy seeds to help you sleep. Though I’m afraid we don’t have much moss,” Leafpool explained, resting her tail on her shoulder. Hollyleaf felt her body relax. 

“Thank you Leafpool.”

“Jayfeather can you finish sorting the herbs while I get the extra moss?” Jayfeather let out an annoyed growl.

“Sure, just leave me here to sort it out all on my own!” he grumbled. Hollyleaf blinked at her brother sympathetically. 

“Here let me help you,” Hollyleaf stepped forward to help only to have Jayfeather tail slap her. 

“No, you’ll just ruin the organization,” he hissed softly, focusing on snapping leaves off of a stem. Hollyleaf wanted to snap at her brother, yet she couldn’t bring herself to. Jayfeather’s pelt was disheveled, his ears were flicking nervously while his tail thumped on the medicine den ground. He was stressed, no doubt about their conversation earlier in the day. He was also most likely worried about confronting Ashfur.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Hollyleaf said, as her tail brushed him in comfort. Jayfeather didn’t respond. 

Leafpool quickly returned with the moss. As she and Hollyleaf began to knead it into a nest for her, Hollyleaf glimpsed Cinderheart and LionBlaze returning to the Warrior’s den together. Her ears drooped. 

“You’re worried aren’t you?” Leafpool’s voice pulled Hollyleaf out of her emotions.

“What?”

“You’re worried about being left behind if Lionblaze and Cinderheart become mates,” Leafpool looked at Hollyleaf, her amber eyes soft with sympathy. “I know how that feels. When Squirrelflight started courting Brambleclaw and Ashfur I felt the same way. It’s the loneliest feeling in the world, since you feel like you no longer have their shoulder to lean on. Don’t worry Hollyleaf, Cinderheart will always be there for you and Lionblaze, nothing will come between you three.” Leafpool pressed her muzzle to Hollyleaf with a purr and licked her behind the ear. 

“Thank you for your words of reassurance.” Hollyleaf purred, yet she did not feel like her fears were soothed.  Leafpool nodded.

“Besides I’m your kin. I’ll always be there to help you.”

“But you’re not my kin!” The sad thought ripped through Hollyleaf and her chest felt hollow. Unable to answer she merely nodded and Leafpool left. 

The sun had disappeared behind the horizon before too long darkening the camp. Hollyleaf laid on her moss nest unable to sleep. Leafpool had offered once again to give her poppy seeds before she had gone to sleep, but Hollyleaf refused. 

“Move over,” Jayfeather instructed, carrying his own bundle of moss over to his sister. Hollyleaf moved over and watched as Jayfeather stamped the moss down. He curled up next to his sister, laying his head on his paws. His sightless eyes gazed out of the den. 

“You didn’t want to be around Ashfur?” he questioned. Hollyleaf nodded and licked her brother's head, grateful for his presence. 

“I thought so, don’t worry I’ll stop him tonight.” Jayfeather’s tail thumped on the ground, clearly restless. 

“If you don’t I will.” Hollyleaf growled, her teeth gritted in determination. 

“You won’t kill him. I won’t let you. We’ll find another way.” Jayfeather lifted his head, his eyes narrowed. Hollyleaf stared down at her paws, unable to meet his gaze.

“I won’t...I was speaking out of anger... We have to protect Thunderclan and the warrior code.”

“I know, we will find a way. He will face the consequences of his actions...Starclan will make sure of it.”

“I hope you’re right Jayfeather…” Hollyleaf muttered, unconvinced. She rolled over, turning her back to her brother. Hollyleaf closed her eyes, drifting off into unfeeling blackness. 

When Hollyleaf opened her eyes again, she was no longer in the medicine den. She layed in a flower covered meadow. The air was sweet and warm like in greenleaf. There was a brilliant moon above shining, bathing the meadow in a soft warm yellow light. Behind Hollyleaf was a forest which Hollyleaf could tell was rich with prey, as she heard mice scuttering around in the undergrowth.  

“Is this starclan?” Hollyleaf wondered out loud. 

“You finally figured it out? Good now, get up! I don’t have all day!” a scruffy gray cat with yellow eyes and a yellow fang hissed. Hollyleaf immediately leapt to her paws. 

“Oh I’m sorry...you’re Yellowfang aren’t you! Firestar told me and my brothers stories about you!” Yellowfang purred. 

“Good to know that Firestar still talks about me. Come, follow me, we need to talk,” Yellowfang explained, waving her tail. Hollyleaf didn’t hesitate, she trotted after the scruffy gray cat into the woods.

“Has Starclan figured out a way to stop Ashfur?” Hollyleaf asked. Yellowfang said nothing as they walked.

“I have come with a warning and a story.” she rasped. Hollyleaf flicked her ears in confusion, but said nothing.

“Long ago I was a medicine cat and I was in love with our clan’s leader Raggedstar. I broke the warrior code and had his kits. I paid highly for my betrayal and choices. I lost my two daughters and my only son turned into a monster. My son Brokenstar took over shadowclan and forced kits who were far too young to be apprentices. I was then exiled from my clan and kin. Despite my actions I found refuge with Thunderclan, there I found new kin if we weren’t related by blood. In the end my final punishment was that I was forced to kill my son when he threatened my new home and kin,” Yellowfang’s voice was weary as she told her story, Hollyleaf hanging onto every word. 

The two cats passed into a new part of the forest. The trees were shades of red, golden and brown like during leaf fall. Golden leaves fell softly around Hollyleaf brushing against her pelt. Yellowfang came to a stop, sitting under a wild gnarled oak tree. 

“Blood isn’t everything Hollyleaf, neither is the code.” Yellowfang’s flattened face was stern. Her yellow eyes were burning fiercely. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Hollyleaf asked, sitting down and wrapping her fluffy tail around her paws. 

“Because you hold the most dangerous power of all. I hope when the time comes you will use it wisely.”

“I have power? So I am one of the three!” Hollyleaf cried. Her heart swelled, feeling like it would burst from her chest. “We are the three then! Wait, who are our parents?” Yellowfang blinked and over head a murder of crows flew by. The crows were screaming and fighting. They clawed at each other with their talons, ripping both feathers and flesh from one another. Black crow feathers spotted with blood drifted softly down from the sky landing at Hollyleaf’s paws. 

“The time for secrets is over. I hope you take what I have said to heart and do the right thing. Power is dangerous...if you are not able to control it, it will destroy you and the cats you love.” Yellowfang rose from the ground, turning and beginning to walk away. 

“Yellowfang wait! What do you mean!” Hollyleaf cried running after her. Suddenly the wind picked up sending the fallen leaves into a frenzy. Hollyleaf slowed, struggling to see in front of her. “Yellowfang come back!” She called, running blindly into the whirlwind. The wind died as quickly as it began and when Hollyleaf could finally see she was somewhere new. It clearly wasn’t Starclan. The air was cold and damp. The trees were tall, wild, dark gray and dead. The stench of rotten dying wood filled Hollyleaf’s nose. 

“Where am I?” Hollyleaf wondered. Suddenly Lionblaze’s voice cut through Hollyleaf’s thoughts. 

“Liar!” Lionblaze’s yowl echoed through the trees. Hollyleaf’s eyes widened and she took off through the trees. She fought her urge to call out for him, even as the sound of fighting got closer. If she was going to be able to help him she would possibly need the element of surprise. Hollyleaf launched herself off a large boulder and scrambled up a ridge side to where she heard her brother’s voice the loudest. Standing up on the ridge, she gazed down to see her brother circling a large tabby tom with a scar over his nose and torn ears. 

“It can’t be, is that Tigerstar? Where is this place!?” Hollyleaf felt terror fill her chest, as she began to realize the danger she and Lionblaze were in. 

“What’s wrong, Lionblaze? You don’t want to see your kin? Perhaps we could do some battle training like we used to.” Tigerstar growled in a maliciously teasing tone. Lionblaze lashed his tail, his claws out.

“You’re not my kin, you never were! I’m also not your apprentice anymore, I should never have been here,” Lionblaze hissed. Tigerstar stalked closer, his lips curled in an amused snarl.

“Blood isn’t everything, besides you would have never made it without me! Without me you would still be an unmotivated apprentice, chasing after windclan females,” Tigerstar snarled. 

Lionblaze let out a war caterwaul, launching himself at Tigerstar. The two toms began fighting viciously. Lionblaze gripped Tigerstar with his paws, his claws sinking deep into his shoulders. Tigerstar hissed and gripped Lionblaze back, he ran his claws down his back as the two tom’s hit the ground. Lionblaze screeched in agony and bit down onto Tigerstar’s neck, he began shaking and violently tearing into the tabby’s flesh. Tigerstar yowled, kicking desperately to get Lionblaze away, however he hung on. Lionblaze began to kick wildly at the tabby’s stomach, clawing at the soft underbelly. This seemed to give Tigerstar his second wind, in a panic, Tigerstar finally kicked the young warrior off and away from him. Lionblaze hit the ground, but quickly rebounded, scratching violently at Tigerstar's face. Tigerstar turned on his heels and went to kick Lionblaze away. Lionblaze jumped away, lunging and grasping onto the tabby’s back. Lionblaze slammed Tigerstar onto the ground, he sank his teeth into his scruff and tore into it.

Hollyleaf stood frozen in shock at her brother’s brutality. Her blood ran cold as Tigerstar let out a bone chilling scream of agony.

“Lionblaze’s power...he can’t be defeated in battle.” Hollyleaf’s mind echoed.

 Finally Lionblaze let go, his muzzle dripping with blood.

“Do it, kill me.” Tigerstar hissed.

“No, you’re already dead.” Lionblaze hissed. 

Unable to stomach anymore, or face her brother Hollyleaf turned on her heels. She took off down the ridge desperate to escape the scene and the forest. As she ran, her paws caught a mess of tree roots, sending her flying. Hollyleaf slammed into the ground and continued tumbling. Suddenly the ground underneath her, sending her flying down into the darkness of a large badger hole. Hollyleaf let out a yowl in fear as darkness consumed her vision.  

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 42

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Jake was a bit nervous leaving Talltail curled in on himself in the Thunderpath tunnel. Talltail luckily didn’t appear significantly burned, but a sharp stone had left a jagged gash in his front leg that may have been singed with embers as well. Jake didn’t know how bad it was. He wasn’t experienced enough with this sort of thing to know, up until then the house cat hadn’t been used to injuries worse than a couple claw scratches. What was it that Talltail had mentioned being good for infection? To stop bleeding? Could Jake possibly apply a clan cat’s gift for healing remedies? Oh why hadn’t he paid closer attention when Talltail talked about his medicine cat friends magic plants?

Lets see, gold-something…? Merry gold was it? What did that look like again? Well, it had to be golden colored, surely. He scanned one side of the surrounding forest, then the other. Ok, there were no golden plants around. Jake had never even bothered learning all the names of plants, they all looked the same, they were just plants for star's sake, how was he meant to tell them apart? 

There were some yellow flowers that grew outside his home, but he didn’t really want the housefolk to see him right now. His paws felt suddenly heavy with a sharp flash of sadness as thoughts of Dusty and Cris flitted across his mind. He shook his head. Nope, not now, now wasn’t the time to wrestle with the heavy weight of that loss. In a small way, despite the predicament he was in with Talltail, he was relieved to have something he could do to take his mind off it. Something other than wandering alone in that far too empty house… It would never feel the same again without Dusty. 

Maybe that’s another sign that this is where I'm meant to be right now...Now if only I could find a more helpful sign to point me in the direction of merry-golds.

Feeling hopelessly lost and overwhelmed by the plants and trees that all looked identical and green and useless, there was no choice but to do what he always did when he didn’t know what path to take. Just follow his gut. ...Not that that had done him much good recently other than get him into trouble, and run straight into a bunch of very rude “ShadowClan” kits with an apparent blood-lust.

But that was just one time, what were the odds of it turning out that badly again? Jake was absolutely not about to let something as small as “having absolutely no idea where he was or what he was doing” stop him from helping a cat that he cared for. So, with that newfound surge of (possibly undeserved) confidence, Jake took a breath and closed his eyes and focused. Which direction felt right? 

...Right...? Yes, ‘right’ seems like a good direction. So, right he went.

 One of his front paws stung horribly where he’d trodden on an ember the night before. He never thought fire would be so painful. No wonder Talltail had feared it so much when Jake first showed him his fireplace. He chased the stinging away from his mind, now was not the time to start fretting over a little pain. He would not think about it, he would only think about golden flowers, and how everything would be ok as soon as he found them. 

A sharp scent hit the roof of his mouth and made his lips curl. It was familiar, though he couldn’t place his paw on what it was exactly. A looming sense of danger flooded through him from nose to tail tip, making his bright ginger fur bristle. He didn’t have time to search through his memory before his question was answered for him. A russet red muzzle poked its way out of the bushes. 

By the stars, you can’t be serious…

It was a fox. A familiar fox at that, like the one he’d pathetically swiped at before running for cover several days before. A fox investigating the remains of a forest fire for unsuspecting prey without cover. It blinked at him curiously with hungry amber-ish eyes. Jake didn’t know any better how to deal with a fox now then he did then. But he was also hyper aware of how close he still was to the tunnel, and how easy cat scent would be to track back. 

It was a stupid thing he was about to do, and he knew that, but louder then his instincts to run up the nearest tree was an overwhelming flare of anger at this predator. There was no way, after everything he’d been through, that something like this could ruin everything now. The fox took another step towards him, it’s eyes alight like a kitten eyeing a helpless baby bird. 

Jake puffed up all his orange fur and screeched at the fox as loud and as fiercely as he could. “Listen here you dung-breathed flea-brained rat-faced bastard, I have had a really bad last couple days and I am not letting you go anyway near that Thunderpath or anywhere near me! You think you're tough? I’m not scared of you! I dare you to come closer!” 

Jake lashed out a paw, yowling and spitting, and the fox looked taken aback at how this very much alone cat was not acting at all as it should. It seemed puzzled as to how it should go about hunting something that it wasn’t chasing. Jake lashed out again and caught it on the tip of the nose. The fox yelped and snapped at Jake, who barely jumped out of the way before raising both his unsheathed paws up, claws flashing in the early morning light. The fox wasn’t really so much taller than him. It snapped again and caught Jake on the shoulder. It tried to shake him and Jake twisted around in its jaws, hoping his skin wouldn’t tear, and bit it hard on the snout just below it’s eye and stuck his claws above its other eye, sinking them in as deep as he could manage. The fox, now facing the prospect of blinding itself, flung Jake to the side. The house cat saw stars as his head cracked against a tree and he landed with a thump in a pile of wet charred leaves, but he was back on his paws and hissing just as fast, driven solely by adrenaline which was thankfully staving off the worst of pain. His instincts warned him well enough to not show any sign that he was hurt. 

“Try it again! You don’t scare me!” he screamed.

 The fox took a step back, perhaps deciding at last that cat prey really wasn’t worth this much trouble. Letting out one last angry yowl, Jake lunged forward and the predator jumped back and loped away into the bushes to search out prey with duller claws. Jake slowly sat back on his haunches and licked the new wound in his shoulder. It was bleeding more than he thought and his head was spinning. He was dizzy and suddenly aware of how much he hurt now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He sat with his head pressed against his forepaws for a while, trying to convince himself to get up again. 

Flowers. Golden flowers. You need to find those flowers. If they aren’t here, maybe in the twoleg gardens? But what if I pick up the wrong ones? There are so many yellow flowers! I’m hopeless!

While crouched on the ground, he thought he heard the sound of a fox's yelp followed by a furious yowl somewhere off in the woods, but he was still dizzy and couldn’t even be sure whether or not he imagined it. If that fox decided to come back, he really would be in trouble. But there was a new scent that warned another animal was nearby again. This scent was distinctly not fox. Jake shot his head up and got to his paws, trying not to sway. What else was going to go wrong today?

It seemed to come from nowhere, a once again familiar and unpleasant muddy taste, similar to a dead rat's fur. The taste that clung to those ShadowClan brutes. He froze in his tracks and whipped around, his greatest fear was realized in the pair of fierce orange eyes narrowed at him from a raised gnarled root. He hadn’t even heard the cat approach, but there she was, hunched with one eye squinted. She was big and stormy gray with long messy fur that could certainly use a good grooming. Deep scars that warned of experience from many past battles were carved into her face and pelt, striking through the tufted murky fur. The way she hunched over and her long, faintly yellowed teeth that stuck out of her mouth at a funny angle made her seem old at first, but looking closer showed there was no out of place silver of age. No, she was much younger than he’d originally thought, but there was an aged look to her hard fire colored eyes that felt wise beyond her apparent years.

 Jake fought the urge to shrink away as she studied him closely. He stood frozen, his fur still standing on end as he tried to think what to do. Taking a peaceful approach hadn’t worked out so well last time he ran into these cats… Try to run? He wasn’t very fast even on a good day, and in his condition, he’d be caught easily. Could he threaten her like he had the fox? There is no way a cat like that is going to be threatened by me! But if she attacked him now, he would attack back if he had to. Nothing would stop him from getting back to Talltail, no matter how battle trained this clan cat was. 

But her fur didn’t bristle with aggression, in fact, she hardly moved at all. She looked like she was sunning herself, unconcerned and blinking calmly at him. When Jake thought he could not handle the tension a second longer, she finally spoke in a steady raspy voice.

“You look lost, kittypet. A puny chewed up wad of fur like you is pretty easy prey for a fox. Or so I would have thought. ‘Looked like you had some kind of death wish, picking a fight like that.” She grinned, showing her long front teeth more clearly. “It won’t be bothering us again by the way, but I suspect you have greater things to worry about.”

Jake eventually let out the breath he was holding. At this point he was more exhausted and exasperated than afraid. “Are you going to try and kill me too?” 

To his immense relief, the molly shook her head, a rumbling purr of laughter escaping her throat. “No, I couldn’t be bothered. But my clanmates may feel different. They are rather tense right now. You didn’t even notice the scent lines, did you?”

He hadn’t, but he’d been rather distracted.

 “I haven’t time for scent lines!” he argued. “And if you’re gonna be nice enough not to kill me, I just need some merry gold I think, and uh….cobweb, I don’t know what that plant looks like though...you wouldn’t happen to know, would you m’am? I’m in a big hurry and I promise I'll get out of your fur as soon as I can.”

“Cobweb isn’t a plant, it’s just spider's web.”

“Oh...literal spider web? I thought it was a weird plant name...Look, I just want to help my friend before anything else happens, you see--”

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, he hasn’t moved from beneath the Thunderpath.”

Jake felt himself bristle again. How did she know where Talltail was? Who else knew? I shouldn't have left him alone!

“Relax kittypet," she purred, clearly sensing his immediate panic. "I have no war with your companion. Quite the opposite in fact. Running into me was quite good luck on your part.”

“I was just following my gut. I didn’t know where else to go. I know that sounds silly...”

She shrugged. “I do a similar thing sometimes. But when you're a medicine cat, you call it following the signs of StarClan. Mind you, that doesn’t mean it’s always a good idea. But sometimes it works out for the best. The name’s Ratfang by the way.”

“Ratfang? That doesn’t sound like a very nice name,” he said before he thought better of it.

Her thankfully amused purr rattled strangely in her throat. “I have little use for vanity.” Ratfang got up and stretched casually, her frighteningly long hooked claws sinking into the bark of the root she perched on. “Anyway, I have what you need. Trust me, you’ll make a mess of things if you try to do this on your own. Let's get going then, shall we?”

Jake was stunned. “Wait--you… you really want to help me? How did you know what I needed?”

Ratfang stared deeply into his eyes, suddenly looking very serious. “Why, I know everything, kittypet. My StarClan given powers show me clear visions of the future.”

Jake stared at her in wonder. “Wow...really? You can really see the future that clearly?”

Ratfang broke her composure and laughed. “Of course not!  I’m just messing with you. Imagine StarClan making anything clear. If only my job were that easy! I simply scented strange cats around our territory before sunrise and thought I would investigate. I tracked you to the tunnel earlier, saw you both looked a mess, and went to fetch what I figured you’d need. It’s part of the medicine cats code to help injured cats, even if they aren’t from my clan.”

Jake was a little embarrassed that he’d been so keen on protecting Talltail yet he hadn’t noticed some cat had already apparently found their hiding place. However, that also meant if the ShadowClan cat meant to hurt them, she could have easily done so already.

 “Well, I really do appreciate it.” He hastily dipped his head to her. “My name's Jake by the way, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Ratfang bent to pick up a large leaf stuffed with sharp smelling plants that had been folded neatly between her forepaws, then she leaped off the gnarled root and began back down the path from where Jake had come without pausing. Her response was muffled through the bundle she now carried. “Well Jake, I hope meeting you will be a pleasure as well. But we will have to see.”

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[evehere]

Chapter 7 of Yearning willow

2.0 Ji Baihua

Yearning willow masterpost! 🍃

Mo Ran punched the wall so hard that it trembled under his fist.

How dared he!? The fucking waste of a space the man was, he dared to call himself a doctor!? Son of a bitch! Ass-licking bastard! He remembered the man’s fawning face and calculating eyes—he had been the one to attend Chu Wanning while they were married. Chu Wanning’s state when he entered the prison was for sure related to this man’s “care”!

Mo Ran pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to control his rapid breathing. The fucking rat… Mo Ran had half a mind to chase after him and let him taste the edge of his sword! He would do the people a favour if he just killed the conniving rat! Disgusting bag of fleas!

His hands pressed into tight fists. Mo Ran was trembling hard from the sheer rage he was feeling right then, hearing his heart beating furiously in his eardrums.

As the saying goes, rats and snakes nest together, he thought darkly, his eyes darting to the western house he knew was at the other side of the courtyard. He could always just light the nest on fire and get rid of all of his problems. A dark, wicked pleasure arose in his chest at the idea, imagining already the screams and the pleas for mercy.

As if Mo Ran had any mercy left in his body. They had taken it away when they took Chu Wanning from his side, so now they’d pay. Everyone would pay. Now that he knew what was going to happen and how, no one could stop him! He’d destroy their lives just like they had destroyed his. He’d stomp them under his feet and have them beg him on their knees!

Since Mo Ran didn’t get a good end, they would have to follow him to hell! He’d made them taste the same desperation, the same impotence and helplessness he had suffered while they wished for a death that wouldn’t come.

He’d… he’d…

Wait.

Mo Ran stopped his train of thought.

He recognised this darkness, this voice in his head that persuaded him to follow his basest, most violent desires.

Fuck. Of course, he had just woken in this body. Last time, it had taken a few days to clear his system out, though he didn’t remember exactly how many. Days blended together when one was imprisoned in a prison cell.

When was the last time he had been in the snake’s nest?

Mo Ran pressed his hands on his face and took a deep breath. And another. And another. He controlled his breathing, counting each inhale and each exhale, calming his mind until he no longer felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. When he lowered his hands, he no longer resembled a demon on earth, though ambers of rage still flickered in the depth of his eyes.

Revenge would have to wait until he made sure that whatever he did wouldn’t splash dirt or blood on Chu Wanning. His husband didn’t need those stains on him.

His only goal this time around was to make sure Chu Wanning got out unscathed of the mess Mo Ran had made.

Mo Ran observed his husband again for a long moment, before placing his exposed hand back under the covers. He tucked the quilt securely under his body so he wouldn’t shake the quilt off if he kicked his legs while he slept.

Chu Wanning’s breathing was still just as laboured as before, and his colour hadn’t improved one bit. Worriedly, Mo Ran put a hand on his feverish face, pushing the lone strands of hair away from his forehead. His palm was so big that it almost engulfed the elegant lines of his husband’s face when he pressed tenderly his hand against his cheek.

His thumb caressed Chu Wanning���s cheekbone, light as a feather. Whatever he did, he’d have to be careful, but his mind wasn’t in the right state to make sensible decisions. First, he’d have to look for a reliable doctor for him. He knew Chu Wanning wouldn’t die from this—after all, he had survived long enough to accompany him to prison—but Mo Ran wouldn’t take any chances with his health.

Any other plan could wait. From now to his impeachment there were four, almost five years. He had time to take measured steps, to remove the pests that plagued his home. Whatever he did, he had to ensure Chu Wanning’s safety first.

Besides… there was something wrong. Mo Ran felt irked. As if he was being observed. He scoured the bedroom, but they were alone.

Before Mo Ran could think about it further, voices reached him from outside the room.

“Ji-xiaojun! Ji-xiaojun! Where are you going!? Please stop, these are furen’s rooms! You can’t behave like this here!” A girl’s voice exclaimed. It started far away, but it quickly reached the doors, just like the noise of several sets of footsteps.

“Out of my way,” a man’s cold voice answered, “as if you cared about furen and his dignity. Don’t you dare lecture me.”

Mo Ran rose. Here comes one problem, he thought, squinting his eyes.

There was a shadow reflected on the white paper of the door. Someone was leaning on the door, holding it closed.

“Please, Ji-xiaojun, furen is sick! You can’t just barge in here!”

“How would you know if furen is sick? You were on your way to Honglian House from the servants’ quarters. Now, get away from the door or I’ll have Xiarong[1]drag you away,” the man said. He didn’t raise his voice, but the steeliness of his voice vowed for the intent behind his words.

Mo Ran had enough. His frustration and his anger hadn’t even receded completely, and now these lowlifes dared to quarrel right under his nose. In two strides, he got to the door and opened it with force.

The maid at the other side almost fell back at the sudden loss of her support, barely catching herself on the door frame on time.

“What is this ruckus?” Mo Ran asked, staring harshly at the maid.

“Houye!” the young man and the maid exclaimed almost at the same time. However, the maid’s voice was heavily tinged with fright, whereas the young man’s reflected a deep surprise.

There was an entire entourage outside, but Mo Ran’s eyes fell on the girl on the floor first. He recognised the maidservant as the first rank maid in charge of Honglian House, a slender and pretty young girl, no older than twenty, with high cheekbones and thick lips.

“Where have you been until now, huh?” Mo Ran berated her, his anger burning anew at the sight of her. “Do you think that Nanping Manor is feeding you for free!? Fucking useless bitch!”

The girl fell to her knees, her head hanging low.

“X-Xinjing[2]is sorry, houye, I-I was…”

“Get to work! Don’t let me catch you loafing on your job again or else I’ll flay your skin off! Do you understand me!?”

“Y-Yes, houye,” the maid said, scurrying in.

Mo Ran stood there, trying to get a rein of himself. He shouldn’t have yelled right in front of so many people.

Well, everyone knew something had changed, since he had carried Chu Wanning out of the shrine and he had chased the doctor out, so he could just break the cracked pot and think of a countermeasure later.

The group was led by a young man wearing his hair in the half-updo that was customary among the men who married in deference to their husbands—concubines, or, like Chu Wanning, the one in submission in a marriage between men. The young man’s face showed his astonishment at his behaviour, though his raised eyebrows and almost bulging eyes didn’t cover his handsome features.

Mo Ran instantly recognised his slightly raised peach-blossom eyes, which gave people an impression of anger, and fine eyebrows, with a cinnabar dot on his brow.

Ji Baihua.

Immediately, Mo Ran relaxed his shoulders a tiny fraction. He had almost forgotten about this man—his harem had grown so much at the end of his life that he no longer kept count of those he didn’t favour. But he had some memories of him, because when Nanping Manor had fallen in his first life, Ji Baihua was one of the few who had remained. Mainly because he had nowhere to go.

This was a man he could trust not to stab them in the back: Ji Baihua was a concubine lady Wang had sent him, a man loyal to Xue Manor and, subsequently, to Nanping Manor.

While he was reminiscing, Ji Baihua had overcome his astonishment and lowered on one knee to greet him properly. Behind him, a maid and a young boy followed suit and an old man with a doctor’s case kowtowed to him, pressing his forehead to the ground, so Mo Ran could only see his grey bun on top of his head.

“Greetings, houye,” they said.

“Rise,” Mo Ran said, keeping his voice tone brisk and short, as if his presence annoyed him. If he suddenly changed his attitude towards Ji Baihua out of the blue, people would think he had gone mad overnight. “What are you doing here?”

Ji Baihua didn’t get up. Instead, he lowered further and dropped his head low.

“I noticed furen didn’t look wellyesterday morning, when we paid our respects to him. Since houyelet him out earlier magnanimously, I acted on my own and invited doctor Ren Kang[3] fromthe Imperial Academy of Medicine. I dare supplicate houye to…”

Doctor Ren Kang!

“Please, come inside, doctor Ren,” Mo Ran said, interrupting Ji Baihua, who threw him another confused look.

Mo Ran didn’t see the sheer bewilderment in Ji Baihua’s eyes, because he had stepped forward to support the doctor as he rose to a standing position. Doctor Ren was an old man in his fifties, with a head full of grey hairs and hooded eyes. He looked exactly the same as he did in Mo Ran’s memories—though the one Mo Ran had met in his first life was a few years older.

“This humble one greets houye. May a thousand blessings be with you, houye,” the doctor said with a steady voice and bowing deeply, with an attitude that was neither overbearing nor servile.

“I’ll have to trouble doctor Ren with furen’s health,” Mo Ran said, pulling him inside without looking at Ji Baihua twice.

Without further ado, they stepped inside. Ji Baihua rose slowly, and, accompanied by his maid, he followed them inside.

Xinjing was picking up some of the mess around Chu Wanning’s bed, creating enough free space so she could put a thick cushion on the floor next to the bed for the doctor to kneel on.

“Leave,” Mo Ran told her, expressionless, as the doctor took out his tools.

The servants were already used to the sudden changes in Mo Ran’s instructions—gods knew that he had become volatile and temperamental beyond recognition after Shi Mei’s death. However, Xinjing’s mouth twitched.

“But who will serve if Xinjing leaves?”

She regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth, as she glimpsed the fury that rose again in Mo Ran’s eyes.

“The servants in this household are becoming more and more capable as each day passes,” Mo Ran said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “They dare question their master’s decisions now. If you must know, isn’t Ji Baihua right here to serve furen and me?”

Xinjing fell to her knees again, ready to apologise again, but before she could say a single word, Mo Ran interrupted her.

“Ji Baihua,” he said, his voice cold and sharp as a sword. Behind him, he heard clothes rustling, and his concubine’s face appeared in his field of vision. “Lend me your boy.”

“Yes, houye.” The other man called, “Xiarong!”

“No, no, houye, please have mercy! Houye, please have mercy!” Xinjing exclaimed, her face white as chalk and her voice trembling with fear. She kowtowed repeatedly, knowing this wouldn’t end well for her.

An agile boy leaped in the room in seconds and bowed to Mo Ran.

“Drag her out to the courtyard, and slap her face twenty times! I want her kneeling outside until midday,” Mo Ran said, without batting an eye. “Let everyone know that if anyone dares to laze around and question my orders, this is what will happen to them!”

“Yes, houye!” The boy said, proceeding to drag the girl out by her underarms.

Xinjing trashed around, trying to stop him to no avail. The boy was more than used to heavy jobs and had no trouble taking her out.

“No, houye, please, have mercy! Xinjing is wrong, this servant knows it! Please, houye!”

Her screams followed them all the way out, until the sound of the first slap reached them, and her cries for mercy turned into pained yelps and sobs.

“One!” the boy called out from outside.

Mo Ran acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. To put in order Chu Wanning’s house, he would set an example to start with. No one would dare to disregard his care for the short term, but this wasn’t the way to go in the long run. Whether his rage at his husband’s state of inattention of neglect had set the punishment higher, was a whole another issue that Mo Ran, honestly, wasn’t much bothered about.

The doctor had been working on getting his tools out with steady hands, without batting an eye. He was truly an unwavering man—others in his place might be already trembling.

Returning to his post beside the bed, he saw Ji Baihua throwing a meaningful glance to his maid, who cleverly took his hint and left the room, closing the door behind her just as another cry of pain reached them.

“Two!”

***

Ji Baihua observed everything, even though his expression didn’t change. The marquis was behaving… unusually today. Unusually to say the least—terrifically wrong would be more exact. It was as if… as if he wasn’t the same person.

Just yesterday, there had been yet another ruckus in Honglian House, which ended with the furen serving a punishment in the shrine yet again. Though Ji Baihua didn’t know what had caused their argument this time, he had perceived no anguish from houye at furen’s discomfort the day before. He had announced loudly for all servants to hear that furen had to stay three days in the shrine and no one was allowed to bring him food until his time was up.

Then, he had gone straight to Rong Jiu’s rooms. That son of a bitch never missed an opportunity to seduce the marquis to his rooms, and an angry houye was a houye in need of an outlet.

A night at Rong Jiu’s rooms. That was all that happened.

Ji Baihua couldn’t wrap his head around what could have transpired during the night. He knew better than to expect the little bastard to open his mouth to plead for furen’s case. If anything, Rong Jiu mastered the art of adding firewood to the fire and pouring oil into the flames.

On the surface, nothing had changed. The marquis was just as fickle as ever, as his words to the maid had proved, and equally mercurial and unpredictable.

However, he had brought his husband out of the shrine—Ji Baihua almost hadn’t believed it when his maid told him she had bumped into houye screaming for a doctor for furen. He was allowing a doctor to attend to him. Ji Baihua was ordered to stay. And the marquis himself was staying.

Just these were enough to make Ji Baihua’s mind swarm with turbulence and befuddlement. Though he had married into Nanping Manor for less than a year, he had seen and heard enough to know a few things. First, the marquis hated furen. Second, the marquis disliked Ji Baihua. So for him to ask a doctor to attend to furenand to ask him to stay…

Yet he was used to hiding his emotions, so none of his questions or his surprise showed on his face. Instead, he helped the doctor by placing furen’s hand on the wrist cushion and a silk handkerchief on the bony wrist. Sensibly, he stepped where he could wait on them without being a nuisance.

Now that the door was closed, not a peep from outside could be heard. All the houses in Nanping Manor were soundproof, which was a blessing because the concubines’ rooms were next to each other. Ji Baihua would rather live without hearing Rong Jiu’s voice at nights. Or anyone else’s.

Unlike him, the marquis had taken a seat close to the bed, and everything from his frown and pursed lips to his tapping foot spoke of impatience and a deep anxiousness.

Doctor Ren was one of lady Wang’s old friends and clients. Lady Wang sold herbs and medicinal plants to many doctors in the capital, and among them, she spoke highly of doctor Ren’s abilities and discretion—to be an imperial doctor, and a successful one after two decades to top, one had to have more than just vast knowledge and abilities.

When Ji Baihua heard furen had been punished to the shrine despite his illness—truly, the man could try to fool everyone, but Ji Baihua had a trained eye for illness—he sent a note to the doctor, to ask him to be prepared to come to Nanping Manor. Lady Wang had asked him to take care of furen, so Ji Baihua would do his best, including calling the best doctor he knew.

Though he couldn’t have imagined that the time would come so soon.

Doctor Ren stayed silent for a long time, taking furen’s pulse. Then, covering his fingers with the handkerchief, he examined furen meticulously, from his eyes, to his mouth and tongue, to the nail beds on both hands.

While the doctor worked, Ji Baihua inspected the room discreetly out of the corner of his eye. It was the first time he was in furen’s bedroom, since concubines usually gathered at the entrance hall of Honglian House. As the second largest house in Nanping Manor, HonglianHouse was separated into five spaces. The central one was the entrance hall, at the western side was his bedroom and at the eastern side there was a study, with a calligraphy table and a guqin stand, though the guqin was absent.

The entire house was a mess. Usually, the maidservants kept a minimum order, but whenever furen was absent for any reason, the servants would slope off to the servants’ quarters or the kitchens. Honglian House was a beautiful house, decorated with rosewood furniture with red as an accent, very elegant against the heavy cream curtains that separated each space in the house and the simple ink paintings displayed on the screens. Just that… everything had the mark of wear, some more visible than others, and there was so much clutter everywhere that he could barely see any of the furniture and the carpet—Ji Baihua sighed to himself that to get so much clutter in just a couple of days… was truly a feat on its own.

Though the painting on the other side of the house was very much visible from where he stood. Ji Baihua turned his sight away from it, uncomfortable.

However, the doctor started asking them some questions, so Ji Baihua’s inspection ended.

“Has furencomplained of dizziness, shortness of breath, weariness or palpitations?” He asked first, with his brow slightly furrowed. Though he wasn’t looking at the marquis, it was clear it was him he was asking.

“I-I don’t know,” the young man said, turning at Ji Baihua.

“Furen hasn’t complained of anything… he doesn’t talk much about himself either.”

The doctor hummed, saying nothing.

“How long has he been this pale?” He asked then, observing the back of furen’s hand.

“I don’t remember,” the marquis murmured, looking yet again at Ji Baihua.

“He has always been this pale since I married in, more than half a year ago.”

“Does he have injuries?”

The marquis turned really red when the doctor asked a last question, but yet again the doctor was met with an “I don’t know”.

After the third question, the doctor asked no more, probably knowing that no matter what he asked, he’d be met with half-assed answers like Ji Baihua’s. Or worse, another “I don’t know” from the marquis. If he pressed too much, embarrassment could easily turn into anger with arrogant people like the marquis, and people like doctor Ren and Ji Baihua knew that well.

Neither Ji Baihua nor the marquis made a sound if the doctor didn’t talk first, letting him work in silence. Still, when the water clock marked that a quarter had passed, the young man was defeated by his impatience.

“How is he, doctor?” He asked with tone Ji Baihua had never heard from him.

So the fierce Taxian general did know of the word “fear” after all.

“Furen’s health has visibly worsened since I last checked on him five years ago,” the doctor said unhurriedly, taking out a needle from a linen case filled with long and bright silver needles. With gentle but firm hands, he punctured the patient’s index finger and observed the drop of blood.

“You have attended him before?” The marquis asked, his voice reflecting the same surprise Ji Baihua was feeling.

The doctor nodded, without pausing in his work.

“I was appointed to care for Chu-furen’s wounds after the last battle at the northern borders.”

Ji Baihua tensed up at the mention of it, his eyes immediately looking for the marquis’ reaction. To his utter astonishment, there was almost no change in the young man’s expression.

The battle at the northern borders five years ago was the battle that had taken the first furen’s life—the biggest, most off-limits taboo in Nanping Manor.

Lady Wang had warned Ji Baihua: never mention the battle, never say a word about Mu-furen, Shi Mei. Two years ago, a servant with a big mouth had lost his life when he had dared say that doctors like Mu-furen should have never gone to the battlefield. The marquis had him caned to death.

This time, there was no wave, no change in the marquis’ expression.

Ji Baihua couldn’t help a shiver. Something had happened. Something huge and drastic. What could have caused this change in the marquis? He didn’t know what or why, but it made him feel cold inside.

He should have come prepared for surprises, because the marquis’ next words left him dazed anew.

“He was wounded?”

Both the doctor and Ji Baihua stared at him. Thankfully, they were men with excellent control over their expressions, or else they’d be gaping open-mouthed at him. Still, doctor Ren couldn’t help raising his eyebrows, wrinkling his forehead.

Ji Baihua wondered if it was some twisted joke, but the sheer turmoil and perturbation he saw on the marquis’ face convinced it wasn’t.

“He… he was.” Ji Baihua couldn’t help saying. Immediately, houye’s incredulous gaze froze him on his spot, but his own disbelief was stronger this time. “E-everyone in the capital knows that the former war counsellor Chu was stabbed in the chest and that he almost died on the battlefield.”

When the war ended, storytellers had a busy time telling and retelling how war counsellor Chu Wanning had turned the tides in the last battle, almost sacrificing his own life for the people of his country. Chu Wanning had got a great “loyal” reputation—facing his dying pupil, Shi Mei, and the greater good, he had chosen the latter.

“The sword grazed his heart,” the doctor said, getting back to his work. “It was a miracle he survived.”

Some said a few years later that Chu Wanning should have died on the battlefield. A hero like him should have died a dignified death, instead of suffocating surrounded by four walls all day long. Before, Ji Baihua couldn’t have cared less. After marrying Mo Ran, in the depth of his heart, he agreed with those people.

The marquis was speechless for a long moment afterwards. Ji Baihua supposed he could understand why he hadn’t heard of it right after the war, since his first husband had died in the same battle that had wounded Chu Wanning. But what about the years after?

The silence extended for too long. Ji Baihua didn’t dare look at the young man directly. There was a sense of loss, some sort of helplessness, as if he was a lost child, that made it unbearable to look at him now. He supposed he wouldn’t know if Ji Baihua was looking at him anyway, because he kept his eyes fixed on his husband’s unconscious face.

The doctor finished his examination and turned to Mo Ran.

“From what this humble one has seen in the examination, Chu-furen’s health is still suffering from the aftermath of his war wounds. The base of his health isn’t as it was before the war, and he has been afflicted by a qi stasis around his old wound, as well as a consumptive ailment that affects his blood.”

Ji Baihua nodded to himself, agreeing with the diagnosis. Furen had never taken well convalescence.

However, the marquis merely wrinkled his brow, confused and lost around the medical terminology.

“What does that mean?”

“Chu-furenlost a lot of blood and sustained a great injury during the war,” the doctor explained patiently. “This humble one warned him it would take more than a year to recover, even if he followed my instructions, which I see he didn’t. Though his body isn’t as weak as he was then, his blood and qi deficit hasn’t been recovered.”

“Is it serious? Is it… is it life-threatening?” The marquis asked with apprehension.

The tightly knit brow and the concerned angle of his mouth were so foreign on his face that Ji Baihua couldn’t help stare at him for a moment.

“Chu-furenshouldn’t go on like this, but there’s no immediate threat to his life. I’m sure this fever isn’t a one-time occurrence, and it’s a manifestation of the weakness that plagues his heart. It’ll go down with rest, cold compresses and a tonic to bring the fever down. His body needs rest, which is why he isn’t waking up. This humble one will write a prescription to remove blood and qi stasis and promote blood circulation, and send a tonic to build up his energy and nourish his blood. Furen should take them for at least half a year. I’ll come by to check up on furen every day until his fever ceases,” the doctor said, taking out paper and ink to write a prescription.

The marquis nodded as well, mumbling to himself. His whole body was hovering over his husband’s, as if he couldn’t bear the distance between them. There was a confused, hurt look in his eyes. Ji Baihua looked away.

For a while, they waited in silence as the doctor wrote the prescription. Impatiently, the marquis stood up to read what the doctor was writing.

“What does he usually eat?” The doctor asked off-handed, but he immediately realised that they wouldn’t know the answer, so he continued smoothly, without a pause. “He should have plenty of rest and have good meals. Especially non-vegetarian dishes. All kinds of meats, eggs, liver and whatever furen likes, but keep a good balance with vegetables and fruits. Fresh, not pickled or dried.”

The marquis nodded at each instruction the doctor threw at them with a concentrated expression. Ji Baihua wondered if he was really remembering all the little details the doctor was telling them. Usually, this would be the work of furen’s closest maidservants, but one was sick, and the other was currently receiving twenty slaps.

It didn’t matter, he sighed. He was paying attention just as well, since he was the best candidate to take care of furen. Even if the marquis had a change of heart, his official duties kept him out of the house most of the day.

“I think he was in pain earlier,” the marquis mumbled. “Why was that?”

The doctor’s gaze was blank when he looked up from what he was writing. Ji Baihua could understand what he was thinking, because he was asking himself the same question: if the marquis didn’t even know if his husband had any injuries on him, why would he know if his unconscious husband was in pain??

“This humble one would need to have a look at it,” the doctor said politely. “Where would be the pain?”

Indeed, Ji Baihua could see why lady Wang, a healer of exceptional ability herself, admired this doctor.

The marquis’ question started another examination. Indeed, when the doctor moved his leg, there was a visible wince on furen’s face, even though he was still unconscious. After a few moments, the doctor turned to him.

“May this humble one ask Ji-xiaojun to get a first batch of medicine with this prescription? I want to make sure the preparation is done well.”

Ji Baihua was bright enough to understand the meaning behind his words: leave, please. Whatever the doctor did and said next wasn’t meant for him. Most likely, the doctor was trying to preserve Mo Ran or Chu Wanning’s dignity, by not letting a concubine know what afflicted furen.

Without saying a word, Ji Baihua took the prescription with both hands, bowed to the marquis, and left.

To live well as a concubine, curiosity was a hindrance.

***

When Ji Baihua left, the doctor knelt in front of Mo Ran again, with his head low.

“This humble one has a rough idea of what may be the ailment that plagues furen. Only one exploration is needed to confirm my diagnosis,” he said. “May this humble one request permission to see furen’s knees?”

Mo Ran’s mouth twitched, an instant dislike arousing in his heart at the idea of another man seeing Chu Wanning’s body. How very brave of doctor Ren to request to be left alone with a very volatile marquis and his unconscious husband… if Mo Ran lashed out at his words, there would be no one near to save his hide, he thought with a snarl.

“No!”

“Please reconsider, houye.”

Mo Ran almost lashed out, ready to kick a doctor for the second time in the day, before he caught sight of the earnest sincerity in doctor Ren’s face.

He had seen this expression before.

When he had been at his lowest, none of his past power remaining, this man had treated him with the professionalism and sincerity. Even then, he had treated Chu Wanning with utmost respect, though no rule forced him to.

Mo Ran’s hand formed a tight fist on his thigh.

“Alright,” he said, gritting his teeth.

The doctor got to work immediately. There were no wasted movements in how he quickly uncovered Chu Wanning’s legs and rolled up the trouser leg. Too agitated to stay still, Mo Ran imitated what the doctor was doing on the other side, though he was much placated that the doctor made no contact with his skin.

As they rolled up his trousers, Mo Ran’s mouth felt as if he had swallowed sand when he saw patches of bruises on his husband’s shins, all the way to the knees. Some were still an angry red, while others were already turned blue and green. He didn’t need to be a doctor to know that the swelling in the joint wasn’t normal.

Chu Wanning, you dumb, stubborn man…

Mo Ran’s eyes took in the battered legs. Each of the bruises made his heart cry bitter tears in a way the injuries Chu Wanning had received in prison hadn’t. In prison, the sight of his injuries drew up his rage, his anguish and distress, but in this case, it brought a bitter taste to his mouth.

He had caused these.

Mo Ran stayed silent as the doctor worked, unable to turn his eyes away. First, he pressed his fingers lightly on the side of his knees—Mo Ran found no strength in him to find it inappropriate—and flexed the leg from one side to the other. Then, clicking his tongue, he took out an ointment and rubbed it on his knees with dextrous fingers. The ointment had a strong, pungent smell that tingled in Mo Ran’s nose.

“Furen’s knees have signs of blood stasis and damage to the inner structure. If this humble one isn’t mistaken, he must spend a lot of time kneeling,” the doctor said, picking out more ointment from the jar.

“What did you say?” Mo Ran asked, dumbfounded.

The doctor merely turned to look at one of the many calligraphy practices that laid on the low table.

“I suppose Chu-furen must practice very often.”

Mo Ran followed his gaze to the handwriting he was so familiar with. Chu Wanning’s calligraphy was strong and determined in the strokes, elegant and poised, following a structured and rigid style that Mo Ran had mocked more than once in the past.

It seamlessly brought to mind the image of Chu Wanning kneeling in front of his calligraphy table, in the study at HonglianHouse.

He used a classical piece of furniture, with short and overly decorated legs. It had been there when they had moved to Nanping Manor, and Shi Mei hadn’t used it a lot. However, Mo Ran didn’t have any trouble remembering the multiple instances he had seen Chu Wanning kneeling there, copying sutras and poems or practicing calligraphy. There had been few entertainments left for him as Mo Ran grew progressively unreasonable.

When they had married, Mo Ran had wished to make a statement, and he had forbidden any changes in the furniture and decorations of Honglian House. The thought now brought a wave of bitterness to his tongue.

Mo Ran understood that the doctor was giving him an excuse to get them out of their predicament. Most probably, the doctor knew that Chu-furen was ordered to kneel every once in a while, since Mo Ran hadn’t bothered to keep it a secret. It would be most embarrassing for Chu Wanning to let people know he knelt often enough to injure his legs.

People would talk about Chu Wanning, saying he didn’t know how to learn a lesson, to the point his knees had been injured from the many times he had been sent to the shrine. About Mo Ran, they’d say at most that he had gone a bit overboard disciplining his household. At the end of the day, they were still husbands, people would sigh, he should be more patient with him.

But the worst of the rumours and gossip would be Chu Wanning’s burden to bear. If he returned to the court, it could be used against him: he doesn’t even know how to correct his mistakes when his husband punishes him, how can he correct the other ministers at court?

At once, Mo Ran felt infinitely grateful that the doctor had dismissed everyone, including Ji Baihua. A hard and bitter fist constricted his chest when he thought of why his husband kneeling in the shrine, cold and alone, bearing the pain until his legs were damaged. His heart hurt as if it was being fried in a scalding pan, and his hand hovered on top of Chu Wanning’s knees, not daring to touch them.

“I’ll change his furniture,” Mo Ran mumbled when he noticed that the doctor was expecting some kind of answer.

“It would be best if he didn’t kneel for a while,” the doctor said tactfully. “This humble one will come by tomorrow and relay instructions to him as well. Meanwhile, his knees can be treated with cold compresses, just like his fever. Don’t let him stand for too long and don’t have him sit for too long. Knees can be tricky, and they might hurt with the cold, but don’t let him bed rest for long.”

Mo Ran just nodded to everything the doctor said, mumbling to himself as he memorised what he had to do. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and placed Chu Wanning’s hand under the covers again.

“Thank you very much, doctor Ren. I’ll have a gift sent along with your honorariums to your home,” Mo Ran said with all the sincerity he could muster.

“It was this humble one’s duty as a doctor, it’s not worth houye’s gratitude.” As a last thought, he added, “maybe the servants should add a stove.” The doctor cleared all his tools and looked to the door, ready to leave.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep you a bit longer and talk to you privately in my office,” Mo Ran said. There were things he needed to know.

“Of course, houye.”

“Please tell a servant to lead you to the office. I’ll be with you shortly,” Mo Ran said.

The doctor nodded and left, closing the door after him.

There was something Mo Ran wanted to know before he left.

A feeling of wrongness had plagued him since he had arrived in Chu Wanning’s room. There was something deeply troubling him, making his hair stand on end. He felt… observed. But then, Chu Wanning had taken all of his attention—there were few things more important right now than his husband’s health.

He stood slowly, and surveyed the room, taking slow steps as he examined everything. It took him only a couple of swipes at the room to discover what was amiss.

Shi Mei was looking at him from the other side of the room, as young and beautiful as ever, with a slight smile on his lips.

***

Wangyue was bored.

Suppressing a sigh, he rested his chin on his hand, leaning against the armrest. His deep blue robes pooled around his elbows with elegance, weighted down by the fox fur embroidered around his sleeve. His family sent him the latest and most exquisite fabrics, as it befitted a son from the Jiang family, but Wangyue couldn’t wear them without disrespecting furen—a concubine’s belongings shouldn’t exceed the rightful spouse’s—but even his worse robes were priceless. They didn’t bring any other joy to Wangyue, apart from the envious look in Rong Jiu’s eyes.

Rong Jiu, that boastful bastard, had excused himself from the morning greetings. The maid had said something along the lines of “utter exhaustion from serving houyelast night”.

Humph. Better for Wangyue anyway. Rong Jiu was a nasty little son of a bitch. Last month, he had scarred the face of a new maid ru-furen sent him.

Such were the actions of a man without self-confidence. He was one of the youngest among them, even though he had married in much earlier. Rong Jiu had no good-standing family to back him—no family at all, from what Wangyue knew—and no talents to speak of besides his whoring behaviour. His androgynous looks, while charming, were nothing special among the beauties their houye had seen. Besides, he was a man with no option of giving children to their houye.

No wonder Rong Jiu was afraid and jealous of Wangyue.

But there was truly no one to have a conversation with him after ru-furen ended the meeting. Again, Wangyue worked hard to suppress a sigh. It would be disrespectful.

The concubines sat according to their status whenever they were together. From the first-rank concubine all the way to the eight-rank tongfangs[4], everyone knew where they stood in Nanping Manor from where they sat.

In a spacious room with light green curtains and dark wood furniture, with the windows covered with the best “Moonlight paper” from the southern market, ru-furenheld the morning greetings. After everyone had gathered, they had taken their places next to their seat, bowing and kowtowing to her before being allowed to sit. Then, they stayed for an hour or two, listening to whatever she had to commend to them or just to chat idly. When it was furen who held the morning greetings, the dynamics were quite different, but in essence the same: all concubines listened to what ru-furen had to say about the household’s affairs and heeded her orders.

Ru-furen, as the only first-rank concubine, took the most honourable position in the left high chair of her hall in furen’s absence. Ru-furen was a young woman around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a bright gaze and white teeth, cloud-like hair and a face like a flower. Like her brother, a beauty hard to find, though no matter how beautiful she was, it was difficult to conceal her ice-like nature.

Wangyue knew her name, but he’d never utter it in her presence because her status was way higher than his own: she had the highest rank a concubine could hold in a harem, the elder sister of houye’s original pairing, and the one in control of all matters in Nanping Manor.

Mu Yanli.

“… are approaching the age. As their masters, we should think of a good outcome for them. Ask if anyone’s family has already found a match for them, and we shall arrange the termination of their indenture,” she was saying.

Ah, yes. The maidservants were reaching the age of marriage, especially the first-rank maids. Buying new servants in and letting old maids out was ru-furen’s recurring task. Errand boys and male servants were much easier to manage, as they usually stayed in the household.

“If I may, ru-furen…” a girl’s timid voice said next to Wangyue. With ru-furen’s nod, she continued, “Xin’er’s father found her a match in their village. She’d like to return home.” The maid standing behind her, Xin-er[5], immediately went forward and kowtowed to ru-furen.

Mu Yanli stayed silent for a moment, clinking idly her teacup’s lid with the rim of the cup. No one dared to speak while she was thinking, not a fly could be heard. Years spent as ru-furen in Nanping Manor made her role and status clear to the rest of them, and not even Rong Jiu could question her authority easily. Wangyue couldn’t help frowning a bit.

Next to him, the girl that had talked shifted in her seat. She was in her early twenties, with a pale, oval face and enticing big eyes, round like the moon.

She was one of the two third-rank concubines of Nanping Manor.

Among the concubines, from the second to fourth ranks there would seem as if they had been divided on whim, since they held the same authority in the household and they were all married in instead of indentured. However, there was a key difference between them, something that made Wangyue stand over them: their families’ status.

Second-rank came from high-standing families, second only to those concubines from the main spouse’s family.

Wangyue himself was the only second-rank concubine. Though he came from the prestigious Jiang family, he was the concubine-born son of the duke’s third cousin, so he had married out of his home instead of making a match as the main spouse himself.

There were only two third-rank concubinesin Nanping Manor, who came from respectable families with no titles and lower official pots. One of them had married in almost at the same time he had, a young man surnamed Ji sent by lady Wang—the only one besides ru-furen capable of holding a decent conversation with Wangyue and regretfully absent this morning. His maid told him he was serving at furen’s bedside, a common occurrence since they had arrived.

The one who sat next to him was Luo Xianxian, the most senior among the concubines. Wangyue held no feelings, neither like nor dislike, for the timid and soft-spoken girl.

Thankfully, there was only one fourth-rank concubine in Nanping Manor, who was moreover absent this morning, to Wangyue’s relief. Rong Jiu’s voice always gave him a terrible headache.

“Send a letter to your family,” ru-furen said directly to Xin-er, who watched her with wide eyes, “and ask them to come here with your fiancé. I will look into him and check his background. If he’s a suitable match, we’ll add two taels of gold to your dowry and let you back home in half a year.”

There was a short moment of shocked surprise from Xin-er’s part. Wangyue himself found it very generous. Most masters simply demanded to have the family pay for the maid’s indenture—if the family wished to have their daughter back, that is.

“My heartfelt thanks to ru-furen. Thank you so much!” Xin-er exclaimed, kowtowing three times to her. Then she shifted to Luo Xianxian and kowtowed three times again. “Xin-er thanks Luo-yiniang[6]! Xin-er won’t forget Luo-yiniang’skindness!”

Luo Xianxian blushed and hurried to make Xin-er stand again, with a pleased smile on her face.

“Every servant in Nanping Manor works hard and contributes invaluably to the household. Even if our master-servant relationship is due to end, we should guarantee that they have a good life after they leave this place,” ru-furen said, setting the cup next to her. “Servants who work well and remain loyal to us shall see their efforts rewarded.”

The rest of the servants in the room had been observing the proceedings out of the corner of their eyes, analysing the situation. At the slightest signal, ru-furen’s servants and a few of the ones standing in the back turned to her and said “yes, ru-furen” with a slight bow.

Wangyue turned a lazy stare at them. At the back of the room stood a few people with their backs glued to the wall. A couple wore better clothes than the rest of them, but they still had to keep their eyes down and their mouth shut.

There was a bunch of concubines indentured to the household, like his own maids. Among them, only Lin Chunhong[7]and Song Ying[8]had enough rank to sit with them, as they had been raised to proper concubines, even if their papers remained indentured. The tongfangs had to stand with the servants or were busy working somewhere else. Wangyue knew two of them, but he had heard that there were actually four.

Wangyue had realised soon after he had married in that for a noble household like Nanping Manor, the backyard was filled with quite many people with low backgrounds.

Such a difference was striking, even if it was fairly common to have more low-rank concubines than respected second-rank concubines like Wangyue. He assumed it was because furen had no family he could bring into Nanping Manor. Lately, he was changing his mind in the light of what he had observed from the cold and aloof man that lived in Honglian House.

“This will be all for today,” ru-furen said, bringing Wangyue out of his thoughts. “Please, keep in mind what I said today. Ling-er,” she called. One tongfangWangyue was familiar with turned and bowed to her. “Bring houye some refreshments a while later. It wouldn’t do if he were to fall ill as well.”

“Yes, ru-furen.”

As they left Cunju[9]House, the building at the left of the main house and right in front of Honglian House, they were met with the sight of furen’s first-rank maid kneeling at his door, her face swollen and reddened, with a split lip and blood dripping down her chin. She no longer cried as she had been when they first arrived to the courtyard, rather staring at the floor with a lost gaze and tears streaming down her face.

“I heard she lost a tooth,” his maid Feicui[10]muttered into his ear.

“Could have been worse,” Wangyue answered plainly.

The marquis had a terrible, but unpredictable temper. Sometimes he’d overlook blatant mistakes, while others he’d put to death a servant for a small infraction. For that reason, most servants tended to avoid him, letting his tongfangs serve him most of the time.

Servants knew better than to cross houye. What had happened? He wondered.

The concubines dispersed, either returning to their rooms in the backyard building, Liuyan House, or going to the gardens. Only Wangyue and a few servants lingered in the pathways around the courtyard.

Wangyue walked languidly, followed by his maid and his servant, observing Honglian House curiously. The imposing building in red wood and grey tiles remained the same as the day before, though the situation was changing. Rumours flew wild that morning during breakfast, that furen was on the brink of death and houye had allowed the doctor Ji-xiaojun had called to attend him. If he were to die, would ru-furen be instated as the new furen?

The doctor had arrived before the morning greetings had even started, but the door of furen’s home was still closed. Was he still inside? Would furen be really that ill?

Wangyue had no desire to get involved in any power play that happened at the household. His own position was secure: he was a concubine taken in with proper rites, his family supported him from outside, and houye favoured him enough to visit him once or twice a week. Only a fool would dare to do anything unnecessary.

Yet he felt troubled when he thought of furen. He remembered the cold and impersonal hands that had taken the teacup from him the first day he had married in.

But those same hands had picked up a baby bird from the floor days ago, in the middle of a storm, just to put it again on its nest.

“Feicui, search for that hundred-year-old ginseng we have in our storage and send it to Honglian House later,” he said, unable to fight down his own discomfort.

At that moment, he saw a familiar figure emerging from the opposite pathway, walking with decision towards Honglian House. A handsome man with a cinnabar dot on his forehead, clad in sky blue robes and long hair flowing behind him, followed by a maid holding a tray with a covered bowl.

Ji-xiaojun, Ji Baihua.

From afar, rooted in his place, Wangyue observed as he knocked on the door. To his surprise, it was houye who opened the door. After exchanging a few words he didn’t hear, houye took the tray from the maid’s hands and closed the door behind him.

The expression on houye’s face… that had been…

Wangyue covered his mouth with his long sleeve, hiding a surprised gasp. It was soon followed by a distraught frown and an inaudible sigh.

If upon contemplating the results, there’s regret at the actions committed in the past, why commit then in the first place? Wangyue kept his eyes locked on Honglian House’s door.

Yearning unwittingly will only break the willow branch.

[1] 夏榕 (xia4rong2): xia as in “summer” and rong as in “banyan tree”. [2] 欣婧 (xin1jing4). Jing as in "slender, modest". [3] 任康 (ren3kang1): ren as in surname Ren, kangas in “health, well-being, peaceful”. [4] To keep it simpler to non-Chinese speakers, concubines are divided in eight ranks (previously with the Chinese names). Don’t worry too much about what it would mean exactly in terms of rights and obligations, it will be explained in the fic. Just that obviously there’s more respect and honor for first rank, and 8th rank tongfangs are little better than servants. For those interested, they would correspond like this: 1st rank is 侧室(ceshi), 2nd rank is 贵妾 (guiqie), 3rd rank is 良妾(liangqie)，4th rank is 贱妾(jianqie)，5th rank is 妾室 (qieshi)，6th rank is 婢妾 (biqie), 7th rank is 陪房(peifang) and 8th rank is 通房 (tongfang). There’s a super-detailed and super helpful post here! (The post isn’t mine, but consider reblogging if you want to support the blogger!). You’ll notice that I skipped some, just so this was more understandable.A status or another usually depended in several factors that all had to be taken into account, it was much more rigid than palace harem status. Like, in a imperial harem, a servant can start as a eight-rank concubine and ascend to the top, but a tongfang won’t be raised to ceshi. A ceshi(and her family) would consider insulting to be married in as a qieshi, and so forth. Usually, a ceshi stayed a ceshi, and a pianfang stayed a pianfang, but the tongfang may rise to qieshi (official concubine, not a servant anymore) if her master likes her very much or she has a merciful furen. Ceshi and pianfangs are married in, so they can be divorced, but not sold, and tongfangs (and sometimes qieshi) can be sold (so no divorce to speak of). The power they had in the household usually grew and decreased with their status, but that’s only in theory, i.e. you don’t bully the concubine your husband is favoring right now. This will be all be explained as well in the fic, this is just a compilation of information. [5] 欣儿 (xin1er): xin as in “happy, joyous” and er as in “child” [6] 姨娘 (yi2niang): form of address for concubines with pianfang and qieshi status. [7] 林春红 (lin2chun1hong2): surname Lin, chun as in “spring” and hong as in “red” [8] 宋莹 (song4ying2): surname Song, ying as in “jade-like, lustrous and clean” [9] 存菊 (cun2ju2): cun as in “store”, ju as in “chrysanthemum” [10] 翡翠 (fei3cui4): feicui means “jade”

I hadn't posted this chapter in tumblr yet! I'm currently working on some style related things about my fic, so I may take a bit longer to post the next one. Hope you enjoy this one meanwhile!

[mallowstep]

i hit two hundred followers so here take this series of scenes set in the misty au's version of shattered sky

"The wounded stay with me," Darktail says.

Violetpaw watches as Mistystar bares her teeth, her claws extended. Minnowtail presses her nose against Mistystar's shoulder. "Mistystar," she starts, looking back over the gathered cats, "we can't..."

Feathertail struggles to sit up. "It's alright, Mistystar," she says. "We'll be okay. It's not worth it." Her ear pivots, and she blinks affectionately, despite the tremble in her voice.

"Feathertail," Mistystar says, filled with a pain that makes Violetpaw's heart twist, but she closes her eyes. "Very well. But — we'll come back for all of you. I promise." Her fur bristles, and Minnowtail brushes against her shoulder.

"You should at least let us take our fallen," Minnowtail says.

"That carrion? Forget it, flea-pelt."

Minnowtail growls, bristling, and Mistystar's eyes shine with rage, but she steps past her deputy. "We can't leave them here," Minnowtail says, but she looks at the injured RiverClan cats.

"We don't have a choice," Mistystar snaps. "Fine, Darktail. But we will be back."

"I'm sure you will," Darktail mocks, as RiverClan turns towards the lake. "Feel free to cross my territory on your way to ThunderClan. They're weak and tenderhearted; they're bound to take you in."

Stormheart is the last RiverClan cat to leave. He's only a heartbeat behind the rest, but Violetpaw sees his ears twitch towards Feathertail, dipping his head slightly. He hurries to keep pace with the rest of his Clan, and Violetpaw looks away.

* * *

"I've brought you some more food," Violetpaw says. "And I'm careful. Darktail won't find out. Come on, eat."

Needletail blinks at her, and snatches the vole, but doesn't eat it. She carries it to the RiverClan prisoners, placing it between them. "Violetpaw's here again. She's brought you some food."

"Thank StarClan," Brackenpelt breathes. Violetpaw watches as they devour the vole, with only a few mouthfuls between them.

"We can't hang on like this," Mintfur says. "Darktail is the cruelest cat I've ever known."

Feathertail snorts. "It could be worse."

Brackenpelt spins her head to stare at Feathertail, open-mouthed. "How could—" Feathertail flicks her ear, and Brackenpelt cuts herself off. "Well — still, he shouldn't speak like that. Violetpaw is one of Darktail's cats."

"I'm sure Darktail's cats are in the habit of sneaking us extra prey," Feathertail says. Needletail dips her head approvingly towards her.

"I made a mistake," Violetpaw agrees. "But I'm trying to find a way to help you."

"Don't do anything stupid," Needletail says. "It won't do any of us good if—"

Violetpaw flicks her tail urgently at Zelda and Yarrowleaf's approach, and Needletail sinks down, as Violetpaw slinks back into the open.

* * *

"Violetpaw?" Needletail blinks softly at her. She crouches beside Needletail, her paws thrumming with energy, with hope, from finally having a plan. Having a way out.

"I had to talk to you. I've been to ThunderClan and spoken to Alderheart."

"I told you not to do anything stupid," Needletail whispers, and Violetpaw flicks her tail impatiently.

"We have a plan to get you and the prisoners out! I promise, all of you are going to be fine."

Needletail's eyes close, and Violetpaw hesitates, trying to figure out if she had fallen asleep again. But her eyes open a slit. "All of this that's happening to me...It's not your fault, Violetpaw. All the mistakes we made were mine."

She purrs, weakly, and Violetpaw presses her face against Needletail. "That doesn't matter now. Don't worry about anything. I'm going to get you out of here."

Needletail shakes her head. "Don't take risks for me, Violetpaw. You have to survive, anyway you can." Her eyes close, and Violetpaw listens to her breathing slow.

She didn't care what Needletail said — she would get them out of here.

* * *

Alderheart turns his gaze to the RiverClan prisoners. Feathertail is lying against Mistystar, and the others aren't far from her, all four of them panting and exhausted. Mistystar watches him anxiously.

"They're — these wounds are shallow," he reassures her. "They should all be alright."

"We're fine," Feathertail says. "I got one of them, Mistystar. Was gonna claw their ear off."

Mistystar purrs. "You're safe now," she says. "Mothwing and Willowshine will be here soon, and..."

Alderheart turns away, focusing on the surrounding discussion. His heart aches for Violetpaw and Needletail — Darktail must have killed them. But Squirrelflight is right. Even if he did look for them, what hope did he have?

"We have to get these cats to ThunderClan, to let the medicine cats treat them properly."

"Excuse me?" Mistystar draws herself up, her tail wrapping around Feathertail. "This is RiverClan territory. There's no way we're going to leave it for Darktail to take over again."

Bramblestar starts to justify leaving, and Alderheart sees RiverClan reunite with the prisoners.

"Besides," he concludes, "your cats need more care than you can give them here, and your medicine cats are still in our camp."

"He's right," Feathertail says. "We've got a lot of rebuilding to do." She presses her temple against Mistystar's shoulder. "It's not — our camp yet."

As RiverClan prepares to leave, Alderheart watches a warrior greet Icewing eagerly. Mistystar sits with Feathertail, and Frogheart and Hawkfrost surround her.

"I know it's hard," Squirrelflight says, "but — you should be proud. Your plan helped a lot of cats."

At the cost of Needletail and Violetpaw's lives, Alderheart adds.

* * *

Mistystar's heart stops when she sees the fighting.

Feathertail bristles with rage, but Mistystar can't see from here if she's been hurt. Minnowtail follows her gaze, silently folding her ears. RiverClan warriors burst into their own camp, and although Mistystar loses track of Feathertail, she can see the determination in all of RiverClan.

ThunderClan and ShadowClan are fighting for their sake, for justice, for fear of what will happen if they fail to drive Darktail out. But RiverClan is fighting for home and kin. There is one ending to this battle, and it is the one where they win.

When Darktail calls a retreat, it is a vicious thing that snarls with joy inside Mistystar. She wants to chase after him, but that will come with time. For now, she ducks through ShadowClan warriors picking over the details of their own treason.

Feathertail is lying on the ground, next to the other prisoners. Brackenpelt is the only one with her eyes open, and Mistystar tilts her ears softly. They're all alive, if weak. Brackenpelt nudges Feathertail softly, and she blinks, her eyes focusing in on Mistystar.

"You're here!" she chirps, pushing to her feet.

Mistystar purrs, bunting her temple against Feathertail. "I told you we were coming back for you, minnow."

"What about the rest of us?" Mintfur says, but he purrs. "We knew you wouldn't leave us."

Feathertail presses into Mistystar, and she lies down, running her tongue over Feathertail's pelt. "I'd be a terrible leader if I left you," she says, pressing her nose into Feathertail's neck. She smells sick, but she doesn't feel hot.

Icewing licks Mintfur's shoulder. "They never stood a chance. Cowards and traitors, the lot of them." She blinks softly. "Wish I got more strikes in."

Mistystar hears pawsteps, and she pulls away from Feathertail. Alderheart's whiskers twitch, looking over her cats.

"They're...these wounds are shallow. They should be alright."

Mistystar looks back at them. Their pelts are pulled taut over their ribs, and she doubts any of them could stand without much assistance. She's not sure what standard ThunderClan trains its medicine cats up to, but it's clearly not high enough.

As if she can read Mistystar's thoughts, Feathertail lifts her head slightly. "We're fine." She lowers her head again, and continues, softer, "I got one of them, Mistystar. Was gonna claw their ear off."

Mistystar purrs, part in surprise and part in pride. Feathertail's eyes close, and Mistystar presses her temple against Feathertail's head. "You're safe now. Mothwing and Willowshine will be here soon, and we'll rebuild the dens..."

Feathertail purrs, and Mistystar lets her eyes close. If she is showing favoritism, she trusts RiverClan will understand. Still, she listens to the discussion, and when she hears Squirrelflight say, "We have to get these cats to ThunderClan, to let the medicine cats treat them properly," she sits up as fast as she can without jolting Feathertail.

"Excuse me?" They have fought a battle for RiverClan's home, and Squirrelflight thinks they will simply leave? "This is RiverClan territory. There's no way we're going to leave it for Darktail to take over again."

Bramblestar starts to babble about Darktail's goals and territory, as RiverClan begins to surround the rescued cats. Beetlewhisker lies next to his parents, and Owlnose and Jayclaw have put aside their bickering to reunite with their sister.

When Bramblestar finishes, Feathertail presses her temple against Mistystar's shoulder. It is a familiar gesture, but an old one, and Mistystar is not surprised at the fury that rises in her. "He's right," she says. "We've got a lot of rebuilding to do. It's not — our camp yet."

Mistystar takes a breath. She knows why. Truthfully, she has as much interest as being in camp as she has interest in inviting Darktail back to her territory. It smells of rot, their dens have been destroyed or desecrated, and there is a pile of refuse that is far too familiar for Mistystar's liking.

So she dips her head. ThunderClan, RiverClan, what matters is that they are together.

Like cracking ice, whatever invisible force had held the other warriors back dissipates. All four of the cats will need help getting back, and it's sure to take them the rest of the night, if not much of the morning. Frogheart and Hawkfrost press against Feathertail, and she purrs.

"They didn't hurt you, did they?" Frogheart asks, nuzzling her shoulder.

"I'll have you know I attacked them," she says. Frogheart purrs.

"Mothwing told us to tell you the only reason she's not here is because Mistystar ordered her to stay home," Hawkfrost adds, and Mistystar snorts.

"And a good thing I did. The three of you would crush her."

Feathertail leans her head against Hawkfrost. Her eyes flutter, and Mistystar sees her start to shiver.

"Let's start heading back," she says. She raises her voice slightly, looking to Brackenpelt, Icewing, and Mintfur. "All of you need food and a warm nest. There's no need to delay if we're not staying here."

She nods, and RiverClan stands. Frogheart looks nervously at Feathertail, but she licks his shoulder, rising to her feet and pressing against Mistystar.

"We're leaving together again," she mutters. "Well. I doubt I'll make it the whole way to ThunderClan, but I might as well try."

[sachigram]

could i request a sick fic? your choice on who's sick!

The weather has been steadily getting colder, but Shizuo has always ran hot, so it doesn't bother him much. He leaves in the morning with a coat on, and by the afternoon he's returning home with his coat discarded, tied around his waist. Walking around the city all day warms him up considerably, and he doesn't understand the fuss everyone makes about cold weather.

Izaya, on the other hand, is absolutely pitiful in the cold. Shizuo likes to make fun of Izaya for it, because Izaya is hardly threatening at all when he's shivering too badly to keep his knife straight. Izaya has a multitude of coats, all ridiculously bulky, but sometimes he goes out in his normal coat and comes back as an icicle, stating he can't move normally in such constricting clothes.

Their first winter as a...whatever the hell they are passes normally. Shizuo works, goes home, sometimes finds Izaya in his apartment, sometimes goes to Izaya's. They're both pretty busy during the winter months, so it takes some work for their schedules to align. Shizuo never thinks about it much if Izaya is too busy to meet, as he knows he'll definitely see the informant later.

This winter is different, as Shizuo moved in with Izaya during the summer months, and he gets to see firsthand just how badly Izaya is affected by the cold.

The heat stays on, but Izaya's apartment gets drafty. Izaya carries a little space heater around with him to wherever he's setting up for the day, and Shizuo has witnessed Namie fighting with Izaya over it more than once, arguing that he has to share. Whenever Namie leaves for the day, Izaya will go upstairs and reappear with one of Shizuo's sweaters on. Shizuo has gotten used to sharing his clothes, and he adores the way the sleeves hang over Izaya's hands, the way the hem goes almost to his knees.

On the days Shizuo comes home late, he looks forward to his greeting from Izaya. Izaya will stop whatever he's doing and pad over to Shizuo, usually dragging a blanket along with him, and he'll curl into Shizuo, demanding to be picked up and toted around. He says he loves how warm Shizuo is, and Shizuo tries to be annoyed by it, but he can't seem to manage it. Izaya's skin is always cold, especially his nose and his hands, so Shizuo just tries his best to keep Izaya warm. Besides, Izaya is light, and Shizuo reasons that if he's carrying Izaya around, it means Izaya has less time to cause trouble.

After one particularly hectic day, Shizuo arrives home from work later than normal. They wound up looking for some jackass all around the city, and it ended up being a wild goose chase. Shizuo is annoyed by the whole thing, but he's looking forward to Izaya clinging to him, so needless to say he's put off when Izaya doesn't greet him. He frowns, wondering if Izaya isn't home yet, but his shoes are in their usual spot in the entryway.

“Flea?” he calls. It's quiet, but the TV is on, filling the space with a low level hum. Shizuo walks over to it and is surprised to find Izaya curled on the couch, buried in blankets, fast asleep.

It's not unusual to find Izaya napping. Izaya doesn't sleep well at night, so he'll pass out on his desk, on the couch, even on the floor sometimes in a giant patch of sunlight. Shizuo is used to the catnaps, but Izaya is always a light sleeper, always on alert, so the sound of the door opening would usually be enough to rouse him.

“Flea,” Shizuo says again, sitting beside Izaya on the couch. Izaya doesn't stir, but he hums softly when Shizuo's fingers thread through his hair. Shizuo is surprised to find Izaya's hair is wet. Did he pass out after a shower? Upon further inspection, Shizuo realizes it's sweat. Izaya is burning up.

He gathers Izaya to him, arranging them so Izaya's head is resting in the crook of Shizuo's neck. Izaya's whole body is sweaty and hot, and it takes a little while for him to wake up.

“Shizu...?” Izaya asks in a small voice, and Shizuo holds him closer.

“Are you sick?” Shizuo asks. He tries to think whether Izaya was behaving differently earlier, but there weren't any real indicators.

“'S just a little cold,” Izaya says, and he burrows closer to Shizuo. “You're late.”

“Sorry. It's been a long day.” Shizuo runs his hands along Izaya's back. “Did you eat anything?”

Izaya makes a noise that could mean anything.

“I can make you something.”

“Don't go,” Izaya says, and he clings a little tighter. Shizuo bites his lip in worry. He never gets sick, so he doesn't have the slightest idea how Izaya is feeling, but Kasuka used to get sick pretty often, so Shizuo knows how to deal with it.

“I'm not going anywhere. You need to eat. Do you have any medicine here?”

Again, Izaya makes a small noise and otherwise doesn't offer anything. Shizuo stays where he is and holds Izaya to him until it's clear Izaya is once again dead to the world. Gently, Shizuo lowers Izaya to the couch cushions and covers him up. He goes into the kitchen and grabs some leftovers from the fridge, microwaves enough for them both, and carries it back to the couch. He sits beside Izaya and rouses him once more.

“Hey, c'mon, eat something. It'll help.”

Izaya sits up and takes a small bite of teriyaki before he leans onto Shizuo, pressing into his side. Shizuo frowns and takes his own bite, and when he offers more to Izaya, Izaya turns his head away like a baby.

“Izaya,” Shizuo says sternly, feeling out of his element. Izaya is never like this. Sure, he'll latch to Shizuo pretty often, but he'll also poke and prod at Shizuo the entire time, make himself a nuisance, take up a lot more space than it seems like he should for his size. Izaya is childish, but he's never pitiful by any means. This Izaya is extremely pitiful.

“Tastes bad,” Izaya mutters. He rubs his face into Shizuo's sleeve, moans when Shizuo offers him a sip of water. “Stop putting stuff in my face.”

“It taste fine. You're sick.”

“You're sick.”

Shizuo grumbles and eats enough for both of them. They didn't have time to stop for lunch, just ate some protein bars Vorona offered them. Shizuo will have to find the brand, but he's pretty sure they were Russian. He'll ask her about it later.

By the time he's finished, Izaya is asleep again. Shizuo considers waking him to take some medicine, but he doesn't want to get bitched at, and he thinks sleep is probably the best thing for Izaya at this point. He decides to carry Izaya to bed and if he's not any better by the morning, Shizuo will call Shinra.

***

The next morning, Shizuo wakes up to find Izaya is entirely underneath him. At some point in the night, Shizuo must have rolled over, and for whatever reason, Izaya accepted it. Shizuo untangles himself and feels Izaya's forehead, winces at the heat he feels.

“Flea. Hey, wake up.” Shizuo shakes him gently, and Izaya moans, opens his eyes into tiny slivers. “Want me to call Shinra?”

“No,” Izaya says, and he scoots closer to Shizuo. “Don't go.”

“I have to work. You should stay in bed, though. Want me to call Namie and tell her not to come today?” He pets Izaya's hair, his heart clenching at Izaya's little whimper.

“Please stay with me...” Izaya buries his face into Shizuo's stomach, his fingers clenching the fabric of Shizuo's shirt.

“I can't miss work, not right now. There's a dangerous guy we're tracking down, and if something happened 'cause I wasn't there...” Shizuo's brow furrows. He's worried about Izaya, and he wants to stay with him. “I'll call Shinra and I'll be home as soon as we find the guy, okay?”

“Don't call Shinra,” Izaya says, and he lets go of Shizuo, curls into a ball with a dejected look on his face. “I can take care of myself.”

“Then get up and take some medicine,” Shizuo huffs. He reaches for Izaya, but Izaya jerks away from him. Annoyed, Shizuo stands and gets ready for work, and by the time he's dressed for the day, Izaya is already asleep again.

Shizuo tells himself to stop worrying. Izaya is a grown man, and if he says it's nothing, it probably is. Still, his gut churns as he walks to where he's meeting Tom and Vorona for the day, and when he arrives, he pulls his phone out, sends his mother a text for her spicy chicken soup recipe. It works wonders for sickness, and Kasuka used to love it, even when it made his nose run and eyes water. It'll help Izaya too, and maybe it'll be enough for Izaya to get over being pissed off.

***

It ends up being another late day. They find the guy Tom is looking for, who has a knife on him, and Shizuo winds up bashing the guy's face into a wall. He has a lot of frustration to work through, and he's disappointed the guy isn't even a challenge. He leaves soon after, stops by the store for the ingredients his mom sent him, and then he's hurrying home, hoping Izaya is feeling better.

Izaya is on the couch again when Shizuo steps inside. He's sitting up, which Shizuo thinks is a good sign, but when he gets closer, he finds Izaya is asleep, his head tilted against the back of the couch. Shizuo smiles and strokes Izaya's cheek, but he freezes when he feels how hot Izaya is.

“Flea?” Shizuo shakes Izaya, and his eyes widen when Izaya's body merely falls over into the cushions of the couch. “Oh, fuck. Izaya? Izaya!” he shakes Izaya more forcefully, but when Izaya still doesn't wake, he panics. He gets his phone out, frantically calls Shinra, babbles something that probably doesn't make sense, but Shinra cheerily says he's on the way. Shizuo picks Izaya up and cradles him, tries to convince himself Izaya is fine. He blinks away tears when he thinks of the way Izaya clung to him and asked him to stay earlier. Did Izaya really feel terrible the whole time? And Shizuo just left him there to go punch some low life?

By the time Shinra arrives, Shizuo is close to hysterics. Shinra nags him to go away, to cook or something, and Shizuo is grateful for the reminder of the soup ingredients, which are just sitting on the floor by the couch. Shizuo busies himself, and by the time the soup is covered with a lid and simmering, Shizuo is pacing a hole through the floor.

“He's fine,” Shinra says as he steps into the kitchen. “Temperature was around 104, which is terribly dangerous, but I gave him a shot to bring it down. He probably has the flu, since it's going around. I think Kadota-kun's friends are sick with it, too.”

“Fuck. I shouldn't have left him,” Shizuo says.

“Izaya-kun is an adult. There's only so much you can do for him. Anyway, there isn't much to do for the flu besides wait for it to pass. Give him plenty of fluids and some of these to keep his fever down.” Shinra hands Shizuo a bottle of pills. “I'll yell at him later when he's not delirious.”

“Yell at him?” Shizuo asks.

“Izaya-kun is sickly, so he should've called me sooner. He always gets sick around this time of year because he doesn't take care of himself. Lack of sleep and sunlight will do that to a person.” Shinra smiles, putting a hand on Shizuo's shoulder. “Don't beat yourself up over it. He's a glutton for punishment, you know?”

Shizuo doesn't like any of what Shinra is saying, and when he leaves, Shizuo goes back to the couch and curls behind Izaya, waiting for Izaya to wake up.

An hour later, Izaya stirs. He rolls over and nuzzles into Shizuo's chest, a soft sigh escaping him. Shizuo hugs him tighter, kisses his hair.

“You awake?” he asks softly.

“Mm,” Izaya hums.

“You scared the fuck out of me.”

“I did?” Izaya's hand runs along Shizuo's side, his fingers curling in the fabric of Shizuo's shirt. “Why?”

“You passed out. Shinra said your temperature was dangerously high. Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you tell me you felt so bad?”

“It's just a cold,” Izaya mutters, and Shizuo growls at him.

“It's not a fucking cold. How am I supposed to help you if you won't tell me how you feel?”

Izaya looks up at him, confusion clear in his expression. Shizuo glowers at him in return, and Izaya looks down.

“You're busy. I didn't think it was anything to worry about,” he says.

Shizuo opens his mouth to argue about how stupid that is, but he stops himself and thinks about what he knows about Izaya. Izaya was often left alone to care for himself and his sisters, and when he was sick, he probably didn't have anyone to go to. Shizuo thinks back to when he was a kid, when he would actually get sick, and the way his parents would let him sleep with them. His anger evaporates, and he leans in, kisses Izaya's lips gently.

“Tell me, okay? I should've stayed with you today. I just didn't know it was this bad.” He presses his forehead to Izaya's. “I'm making you some soup, and you're gonna eat some.”

“Okay,” Izaya says, still confused.

“And I'm going to run you a bath. You smell like sweat.”

“Do I?” Izaya sniffs himself. “I think my sense of smell is gone.”

“The soup will help with that. It's spicy. Good for clearing sinuses.”

Izaya nods, and Shizuo lifts him up, carries him to the bathroom. He winds up getting into the tub with Izaya, who is too weak to really sit up properly or wash himself. Shizuo washes Izaya's hair for him, carefully avoiding his eyes, and when they're both clean, he helps Izaya dry and dress, carries Izaya back downstairs to the couch.

“Your temperature is down a lot,” Shizuo says, smiling at Izaya. Izaya's hair is a mess, and the big sweater he's wearing, one of Shizuo's, is sliding to reveal a little of his shoulder. Shizuo hands Izaya a blanket and goes to stir the soup, which is starting to fill the apartment with a delicious aroma Izaya says he can't smell.

While it cooks, they curl together on the couch, some cheesy movie playing on the TV. Shizuo calls Tom and says he can't come in the next day, and Izaya argues that Shizuo didn't have to do that, but he looks far too pleased for Shizuo to take it seriously. When the movie ends, Shizuo announces the soup is ready, and to his delight, Izaya eats it ravenously.

“Spicy,” Izaya says, his nose running while he eats. Shizuo grins at him and hands him a napkin.

“Can you taste it? Or just the spice?”

“Little of both,” Izaya says, and when he asks for seconds, Shizuo gladly obliges.

They go to bed after eating, and Izaya is quickly out like a light, which in itself is unusual. Shizuo doesn't think he's ever seen Izaya sleep this much. He drifts off with Izaya in his arms, and in the morning, he wakes up to find he's on top of Izaya once more. He snorts in amusement and rolls off, and Izaya immediately whines and paws for him.

“Don't go,” Izaya says, and he latches to Shizuo.

“Not going anywhere, flea,” Shizuo promises, and he winds up being pulled back on top of Izaya, who is clearly using him as a heavy blanket. “Are you feeling better?”

“Mm... A little. Still feel gross.”

Shizuo grins at the honest answer, and he kisses Izaya's neck. He hates that Izaya feels bad, but he's glad to know it all the same.

[skeptycats]

Vicky Archives #4

CODE OF THE CLANS - A little light humour

Vicky Holmes, the former editor of the Warriors series, has been doing short extract readings on Facebook since the start of the UK lockdown back in March. There’s some really cool anecdotes hidden within some of these videos, so I decided to begin penning them down for posterity and easy reference.

I won’t be transcribing filler, hedging and false starts but I’m including some amount of preamble just to be comprehensive.

A little short one this week! My health is a little poor at the moment so it’s a couple days late anyway, but I hope you enjoy!

#1 Into the Wild | #2 Forest of Secrets | #3 The Darkest Hour | #4 Code of the Clans | #5 Firestars’ Quest | #6 Twilight | #7 Long Shadows | #8 Leafpool’s Wish

---

Hello! It is Tuesday, March the 31st, last day of March, and I’m in a bit of a down mood today, I’m sure a lot of us are. The realities of lockdown are setting in, I’m bored, I want to go shopping - and I never want to go shopping! I’d just like a change of scene.

I decided today to go for some light relief. I’m going to do a reading from Code of the Clans, which was I think the first book I wrote completely on my own, so I storylined it, brainstormed it, and actually did all the writing on my own. It’s a lot harder without Kate or Cherith to help because obviously I was responsible for all of the words, but I was also able to play with the Erin Hunter voice myself. It was lovely, and I really enjoyed it.

Code of the Clans is something which we call non-fiction. Obviously it’s still fiction, but it was delving into the world behind Warriors. The structure, the heritage, the religion. It was just a pure exercise in fantasy, it was a delight. 

I’m going to read a short section from Code #11, which is ‘boundaries must be checked and marked daily. Challenge all trespassing cats.’ I’m going to read a short scene in which Whitestorm teaches border tactics to some familiar faces when they were apprentices. I can remember when I wrote it I was smiling, and giggling to myself. I’m probably going to do the same now, so forgive me for effectively laughing at my own jokes. We all need a bit of humour today. 

Is every cat here? Firepaw, Graypaw, Ravenpaw, Sandpaw, and Dustpaw? Dustpaw, stop trying to push Firepaw into the brambles. I’m not blind; I can see what you’re doing. Firepaw, go to the other end of the line. Sandpaw, he does not have fleas! Stand still, all of you.

As Lionheart told you, we’re going to practice border defense today. You can be the patrol, and I’ll be a deputy from another Clan who’s crossed the boundary. Who’d like to lead the patrol? Don’t look so terrified, Ravenpaw. I won’t make you be the leader if you don’t want to be. Graypaw, why don’t you have first turn? If you could just pick up that stick in your mouth and use it to draw a line across the sand, we’ll call that the border. Sandpaw, it doesn’t matter that the line is wobbly. Boundaries aren’t whisker-straight, code are they? So, you’re on that side, walking along on a dawn patrol. Off you go, patrol!

Did you really need to yawn like that, Graypaw? Oh, I see, it’s because it’s the dawn patrol, and you’re tired. Well, let’s pretend you all had a really good night’s sleep and are full of energy. Now, what should you be doing? Yes, sniffing, tasting the air—what for? That’s right, Sandpaw. ThunderClan border marks. And what else? Yes, Firepaw. The border marks of the other Clan. But only where the two borders meet. Beside the river and the Thunderpath, it would be bad news to find any scents of RiverClan or ShadowClan, because it would mean they’d crossed over from their side. So keep sniffing.

Maybe not that much, Sandpaw. Have a good sneeze and you should get the sand out of your nose. So, border marks, border marks. Can you smell both sets? Good. But what’s this? A cat from another Clan has ignored the marks and stepped over your border?

No, Ravenpaw, I didn’t mean we were actually being invaded. The cat from the other Clan is me. See how I just stepped over the line in the sand? What are you going to do about it? Wha . . .whoa! Stop treading on my ears!

Well, yes, Dustpaw, launching an attack and knocking me back across the border is one option. But is it wise to take on a cat twice your size? Or a trained warrior with more experience than you? The purpose of a patrol is to assess the situation and report back to your Clan leader. You won’t be able to do that if your pelt is clawed to shreds at the farthest part of the territory from the camp. Any other ideas?

How about asking what I’m doing? I might have a valid reason for crossing the border, especially if I’m alone. That’s right, Graystripe: [TN: Vicky points out the name error here] What do you want? is a good way to start. Don’t be too hostile: Remember, you are in the stronger position, because this is your territory and you have the right to defend it. Unless I have a very good explanation for crossing your border, I don’t have any rights at all. What do you think my reply might be?

Yes, Ravenpaw, I might need your help. My Clan might have been invaded, we might have serious trouble with prey, or we might have sickness that needs your herbs. All these reasons would mean that I am weak, so you can allow me into your territory but never out of sight.

If I am hostile, then meet me with hostility—which isn’t the same as aggression, Dustpaw. You’ve started with a strong challenge—What do you want?—and now you need to give me some sort of warning. Ravenpaw, what would you say?

Hmmm. If you’re going to threaten to claw a cat’s ears, you should try not to look so terrified at the prospect. Firepaw, would you like to try? Ah, yes, I like that you indicated the rest of your patrol. It’s always good to let the enemy know they’re outnumbered. Sandpaw, put that fire ant down. No, I don’t care that Firepaw might not know what it is. Now is not the right time to show him—and he certainly doesn’t need to get bitten by one.

So, you’ve challenged the trespasser, warned me that there’s a whole patrol here that can take me to your Clan leader if that’s what I wish; what next? That’s right, Graypaw, let me—the intruder—speak. If I can’t give you a convincing explanation for what I’m doing on your territory, if I don’t ask to be taken to Bluestar at once, then chase me off with no more questions. Don’t provoke a full-scale war—chasing means chasing, not catching and clawing. Just make it clear that you will defend your boundaries from any kind of invasion, even one paw across the border. A good warrior is always ready to fight, but only if it’s absolutely necessary: A good warrior will seek a peaceful, claws-sheathed solution first.

You will all make good warriors one day. Don’t look so doubtful, Ravenpaw. You need to find only a little more courage to be as good as your denmates. Your hunting skills are excellent— Dustpaw, you’d do well to watch him. Who knows? You might even lead this Clan one day!

Now, back to camp, all of you, and leave this old warrior to enjoy the sun in peace.

BEHIND THE SCENES

That was fun. Always cheers me up to revisit some of the humour, and there was a lot of humour in Warriors. Both Kate and Cherith excelled at introducing some comedy, especially around kits interacting with the older cats.

That’s something I was very aware of when I was writing the ‘non-fiction’ books like Code of the Clans and Battles of the Clans. It’s very easy to think of Warriors as super intense and super involved and traumatic and emotional, but you can’t sustain that. It’s exhausting to write and it’s exhausting to read, just as it’s exhausting to live. I think at the moment there’s a danger that we’re all sort of living on a bit of a knife’s edge, living on our nerves, and I’m certainly starting to feel that. It’s okay to take a break, with your writing and with your general day-to-day life. Laughter is the best medicine, literally. Writing about kits just gives me the giggles every time. And yes, it feels self-indulgent to laugh at my own jokes, but hey, I’m on my own, I have to make my own jokes.

It was very interesting there because of course I spotted a typo - one of my famous errors! - that Graypaw had been referred to as Graystripe. Obviously I wrote Code of the Clans when we were probably on series two at least, if not three, so I was thinking of these cats as their warriors names, and obviously forgot I was supposed to be calling Graypaw ‘Graypaw’ there. I have obviously made lots of mistakes over the years. I think my favourites are the fact that Heavystep died and comes back to life several times, and Rowanclaw started off as a she-cat and then pops up as a tom. So we could perhaps claim the first transitioned fictional cat? But it was an honest mistake.

One of my fondest memories from going on tour is when I would turn up in a bookshop and some very earnest little child would turn up with a book full of post-it notes, and they’d solemnly say that they’d pointed out all the typos and errors in the book and marked them with post-its, and would I like to take the book away so I could do the corrections. No, is the short answer. I’m sorry for the mistakes, but it’s not up to me to correct them. That’s the publishing, that’s further down the line. We have corrected errors in some books, but it has to be big mistakes, you have to go in and change the printing plate. All I can humbly say is ‘I’m sorry’. I’ve written a lot of words, they’re not always going to be the right ones. 

[semiller1213]

Macropost update #3: 

It definitely has been a minute since last updating you all but we have completed so much awesome stuff! After some time finalizing our hypothesis regarding why we might be seeing higher COVID-19 Cases within the Hispanic/Latinx community, David had mentioned our project to his friend at the Montgomery County Health Department, which happened to be one of the counties we identified has having significantly high cases of COVID-19 within their Hispanic/Latinx community. Angie, who is working with David already, was extremely interested in our work and was wondering if we could partner together. As a group we collectively decided to direct our project towards Montgomery County and their Hispanic/Latinx population. After that, we went ahead and started on focusing our deliverables for Montgomery County. 

Last week we were notified that Walmart was not allowing anyone to set up table events at their stores so we were out of a venue we thought might really work for our project. Our next step was to try maybe smaller, more local Hispanic markets within Montgomery County, NC. Mason and Michelle were in contact with La Cosecha in Biscoe, NC and the store owners there were really enthusiastic about our project and mentioned that they would love for us to have a table event there. On November 7th, we will be there from 9-3pm. This might be a great way to get in contact with the Hispanic/Latinx population directly and promote many of the bilingual resources we are distributing. 

My project was to work on the COVID-19 Care Kits that we will be distributing at our table events that Mason was setting up. This past Saturday we even drove to Montgomery county and visited local businesses and received many donations for our COVID-19 Care Kits. While driving around, we noticed Dunn’s Flea Market in Biscoe. It was so cool and we instantly knew this would be a great way to get involved with the community first-hand. 

Since then, I still have have been in contact with many local and chain stores and have received quite a few donations. We are planning to at least have 100 Care Kits for the 1st tabling event on November 7th and 100 Care kits for the 2nd tabling event on November 14th. We were hoping to have hand soap and/or disinfectant wipes for all of the care-kits but it seems that those supplies are really hard to get right now so not a lot of places are donating those items. Because of this, I have decided to change the contents of the care-kits a little bit. Our main goal now is to at least have hand sanitizer, gloves and masks in all of the bags! We currently have 140 One-size Reusable Masks, 60 Large Reusable masks, and 60 Medium Reusable masks, (Depending on the sizing, we will determine if some kits will get both a medium and large mask), 4 Face Shields, 55 Bottles of Hand Sanitizer (Campbell is donating 100 bottles which will be ready on 11/11, and Medicine Center is trying to order 50 bottles which should be here 11/5, we will see what they get in), a $50 dollar gift card to Carlie c’s (maybe focus on buying hand sanitizer depending on what medicine center can get in?), 350 Disposable Masks (each kit will get multiple of these), and gloves (we will make small/medium, and large kits with the gloves). I am waiting to hear back from Realo Drug Store. He is finding out today (11/4) what he can order for November 14th’s table event.

Currently, I am also working on making title slips for inside of the care kits to help identify what they are and who all donated to the project. Also, at the table events, we will be providing the awesome brochures that Michelle and Shantavia have made! 

We also have finished making 104 children’s COVID-19 coloring booklets for the first table event. Friday, 11/6, we will actually be making the care kits and stapling the crayon packets to the coloring books as well. My next major project will be writing a thank you letter template using the Montgomery County letter head that was sent to me. I will work on that this weekend and get it approved. Once approved I will send out those thank you letters to all the businesses that have donated. 

Let me tell you, It has not been easy but it sure is rewarding to have so many businesses come together to support this project of ours! I am also so thankful for my awesome team members. They have done such an incredible job with each of their projects. Mason is coming up with posters for our table as well as getting the supplies we need to host it. Michelle is still working on reaching out to local radio stations about promoting the brochure and Shantavia got in touch with Montgomery County Schools and they are willing to distribute out the brochures to their students! It is so cool to start seeing our goals we had at the beginning of the project come to life! I definitely think that what we are doing will help spread awareness and ultimately reduce the number of cases of COVID-19 we are seeing within the Hispanic/Latinx Community.