#strelles tigerslash

[strelles-universe]

Strike the Match - Chapter 13: Cats of the Fennlands

Cardinalpaw’s eyes opened blearily to the annoyed groans from Wrenpaw and Chaffinchpaw as something rustled loudly out of his line of sight. A yawn broke free from his jaws, the ruddy tom stretching as subtly as he could around Ravenpaw who’d begun shifting as well. He blinked a little, allowing his vision to clear up as green eyes landed on the grinning form of Jackdawpaw even as Chaffinchpaw hissed angrily at him.

“Trample a little louder would you,” she grumbled. “I don’t think the Galespun heard you.”

“Really? My bad,” said Jackdawpaw smirking as he proceeded to stomp loudly on the dead moss and leaves that they hadn’t bothered to sweep from the entrance of the cadet’s den. Wrenpaw snagged a stray pebble from the ground, swatting it directly at the gray tom who stepped neatly out of the way.

“What’s going on?” Cardinalpaw asked through another yawn, saving his friend from being mauled by the combined might of Chaffinchpaw and Quietpaw; who’d begun creeping forward herself. The two mollies had been granted the dubious honor of being on the previous day’s moonpeak patrol after a full day of training.

Jackdawpaw purred, his teasing smile becoming something more genuine; “Brindlewing’s had her cubs.”

Delight blossomed on the faces of his denmates, even Chaffinchpaw’s though the clearly exhausted molly made no motions to get up. Cardinalpaw climbed to his paws with a purr of his own. News of Brindlewing’s pregnancy had reached him rather late - he was actually a bit embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed. For three entire moons, he hadn’t noticed the swelling of her belly or even a change in her scent indicating her status. Even more embarrassing was finding out from his eager mentor that Callastorm had sired them - he and Brindlewing having decided to raise cubs together despite not being mates. At least now he can enjoy and celebrate in the birth of new life.

“I want to see them,” Cardinalpaw insisted, stepping carefully out of his nest with Ravenpaw at his tail. He purred a little, nudging his friend gently as the lanky tom stepped between them. The conversation from the night before clearly still fresh on his mind as he allowed Cardinalpaw and Jackdawpaw to flank him as they moved together towards the nursery.

They made it in time to see Spottedholly slipping into the nursery holding a bundle of herbs delicately between her teeth while Callastorm waited proudly outside, paws kneading the earth in anticipation with Nettleflower at his side. The molly seemed to be giving him an explanation on how to best support Brindlewing while she recovered from the ordeal alongside pointers on handling exceptionally young cubs.

“One at a time,” Callastorm cautioned when he spotted them, nodding kindly towards the nursery. “Brindlewing is very tired, and Our Storm has already sitting with her.”

“Sitting with her?” inquired Jackdawpaw.

“Having cubs is tiring,” Nettleflower rumbled to him. “She’s getting some-cat to stand in for her as Head Sitter until she’s more recovered. Shouldn’t take long - maybe a moon or so.”

Cardinalpaw nodded understandingly, “Have you already seen them?”

“I’ll have a look at them after you lot have. Hopefully Brindlewing kicks everyone out soon - it smells like it’s going to rain and I’ve gotten quite used to not being wet all the time.”

Cardinalpaw chuckled even as he chanced at a glance at the graying sky and the dark cloud slowly drifting over Vrayushu’s flame. He’d smelled the petrichor building in the air when he left the cadet’s den - he hoped it wouldn’t last long. He - like most members of the Shining Sun - wasn’t a huge fan of being wet for any reason that wasn’t cooling off in the heat. He shook his head and turned his attention to the nursery as Ravenpaw slipped into the nursery to greet the newest members of the faction.

A moment later, Asterdawn emerged from the tucked away den; her back brushing against the ceiling as they extracted herself.

“Come and see me when you’re done,” she told him, though her tone made it seem like more of a request.

Cardinalpaw nodded, perking up as Ravenpaw slipped out a moment later; practically skipping towards Jackdawpaw. He chuckled a little - it seemed that seeing the young cubs had been a bit of a boost for him. Slipping into the nursery himself, the ruddy tom’s senses were filled with the smell of fresh milk still clinging to nursing monarchs and the gentle squealing of tell-tale of new cubs. His ears pricked as he looked around - this was the first time he’d entered the nursery after all. Monarchs were incredibly fierce about their freshly kitted litters and no matter how many times they did it, there was always the chance that they lashed out at anyone who wasn’t the sire of their cubs coming to check on them.

There was baby grass growing everywhere, only sporadic collections of older grass towards the edges as if the older grass was deliberately dug out leaving only space for baby grass to grow in instead. His kneaded the spongy softness of the den, his pads approving of the thick bed of moss covering the spaces the grass didn’t. It felt much more like the ash-warmed, smoothed ground of the Sun’s Clearing.

The monarchs were all near the back of the den, the older cubs wrestling and scampering around a decent ways away from soft-furred molly laid in her nest.  Brindlewing’s soft gray fur was a ruffled mess, sticking out in all directions and her face was heavy with exhaustion. That said, she was still purring like a storm - he wouldn’t be surprised if the stars themselves could hear it. She waves him over with her tail, letting him pad forward and peer over the side of her nest. Brindlewing shuffled a bit in her nest, revealing four tiny bundles curled closely to her belly. 

“We decided to honor his family,” Brindlewing said, and it took Cardinalpaw a moment to realize she was referring to Callastorm. “We didn’t want to do flowers, but trees are similar without being the same.”

She gestured to a small braided molly who appeared to be a carbon copy of her, tiny folded ears with a pink mouth and brightly colored paws. The little molly’s eyes were still mostly squeezed tight though she was much quieter than her siblings.

“This is Wisteria,” Brindlewing said adoringly, love for her cubs flowing from her in waves. She motioned to another cub, very similar in appearance albeit a slightly paler gray than his mother and sister. “And this is Ash. The littlest one is Elder and the one causing a ruckus is Larch.”

Cardinalpaw looked over the tiny cubs with awe - Larch seemed to be the largest of the lot, with strong lungs as he squealed his birth to the world. Elder was the tiniest cub he’d ever seen, pinker than all of his siblings and the only one possessing Callastorm’s mostly white coat. The tiny tom’s toe pads were dark though so Cardinalpaw reasoned he would probably gain color on his legs like he’d seen of some cats of the Sun.

“They’re so small,” he marveled, brushing a bit of moss from Elder’s back. “Especially Elder.”

“He’ll be the fiercest,” Brindlewing purred. “A brilliant hunter or mender. Oh, maybe he’ll be a diplomat.”

“He’s got plenty of time to choose,” Cardinalpaw said, bidding his goodbye to the molly.

He climbed out of the den, giving a firm shake to his coat and moved to the side; allowing Jackdawpaw to dart into the nursery eagerly. He crossed the clearing to Asterdawn’s den, his gaze passing over Tigerslash and Longtail having a low conversation near the legionary’s den. He waited as Larkwing clambered from the den, making a brisk bee-line for the gorse tunnel; ducking out of the barracks.

He climbed in next, his hindclaws kicking off some of the moss as he pulled himself the rest of the way into the den. He gave himself a bit of a shake, dislodging some of the material of entering and exiting dens.

“My Storm?” he called out hesitantly.

“Come in Cardinalpaw - and it’s okay, you can refer to me as merely Asterdawn here.”

He pulled himself the rest of the way into the hollowed tree, discovering quickly that it was thicker than he’d thought. It felt more like stone than a proper tree, like the log had been petrified at some point and the moss growing in the crevices just made it seem like it still consisted of soft-wood.  The inside was larger than he thought it was - which felt silly given the fallen tree made the border on this side of the barracks. Looking around, it felt like the entire cadet’s den could fit inside and it occurred to him that though Asterdawn had no living kin beyond Callastorm, the Brastilian’s den was likely meant to shelter the Brastilion, their mate and potentially any cubs or siblings they had. Given how often the rank heads were invited into the den, it also seemed to serve as more than enough space as a private meeting room where cats were least likely to be overheard. 

He slowly crept towards the back of the den where Asterdawn laid upon a single smooth stone with moss creeping over the porous gray skin, his paws sinking into the spongy moss growing over the ground. Her deep blue pelt was dappled by the remaining orange rays of sunlight through a small crack within the ceiling of the den, turning her coat copper. Her whisker’s twitched in greeting to her apprentice, the large molly taking a moment to stretch; extending her forelegs and flexing her claws before stepping down.

She flicked her tail motioning for Cardinalpaw to follow her towards what he presumed was her nest, fluffy and condensed together with a half-eaten rabbit and a mouse laying near the thickened far wall.

“Have you eaten?” they inquired.

“No, My Storm.”

Their whiskers twitched in response to the title though she pushed the remains of the rabbit towards him choosing to settle with the mouse. Cardinalpaw almost protested - though he was well on his way to being fully grown, his mentor still towered over him. He couldn’t imagine that little mouse possibly doing anything for her stomach but gave him a pointed look that he’d swiftly learned meant he shouldn’t argue.

She’s stubborn as mom, he thinks to himself fondly.

“And Slysoul we thank you for this prey you have granted us,” Asterdawn intoned, turning her gaze towards the dappled sunlight. “May you know our gratitude for the life it’s given and the fullness in our bellies.”

And may its second flame be brilliant.

For a moment, the two ate in relative silence; Cardinalpaw plucking away at the excess fur from the rabbit, unwilling to choke on the fur in front of his mentor.

“...you fought very well against the Fennyields,” Asterdawn began, making him perk up; pleased that she’d noticed his abilities. “Most cadets find themselves intimidated when encountering elanki in person for the first time. Though most outgrow it eventually, I saw and was told that you confronted the enemy bravely and without hesitation.”

She took a moment to take a large bite of her mouse, allowing Cardinalpaw to bask in her praise for a moment.

“Your skills in hunting and your agility during forest sprints has greatly improved since you’ve started. Callastorm agrees that the remaining flaws in your skills is merely due to a lack of experience you will gain in time. And as your mentor, your sense of battle is unmatched by your denmates.”

He puffed up a bit more, unable to help the pleased purr that rumbled from his chest. It wasn’t like his mentor to hand out so much praise all at once rather than scattered throughout the days with little tips on improvements so he would take it with pride.

She swallowed a bit more of her mouse and just as Cardinalpaw assumed, it was already gone; polished off easily over the course of the conversation. She didn’t seem all that bothered though, their expression taking on a more serious tone even as they swept away the mouse tail.

“Now Cardinalpaw, no mentor is perfect and it’s important for cadets to have a voice in their faction and know that they will be heard,” they said seriously. “That is why towards the end of training, cadets will be questioned and allow their voices to be heard. So Cardinalpaw, speak to me as if my position as your leader was non-existent; is there anything you’d have changed about your training?”

Cardinalpaw stared at her with surprise even as his thoughts shifting to his training. Honestly, he doesn’t have many complaints about his training. She was attentive and noticed when he wasn’t practicing with all his might but instead of getting angry, she usually asked what was wrong first. She could be tough and a bit merciless with her training but he never got the impression that she didn’t care and she was never so harsh that he got injured. All in all, having Asterdawn as a mentor had been nothing short of wonderful.

And also terrifying and stressful, he muses thinking of all the times his heart jumping into his chest at the times she’d been attacked.

“... I can’t really think of anything,” he admitted honestly. “You’ve been a good mentor. The only thing I can think of is you’re really busy and I don’t get to spend as much time with you as the other cadet’s get to with their mentors.”

The molly’s ears twitched a little with embarrassment, “Ah, I’m glad. I’ve been working on being more aware of my cadet’s limits. There was a time that I overlooked that my own stamina is a bit… unusual.”

“You mean you were a worse taskmaster?!”

“Ask Frostfang for the story. She was my cadet before you.”

“...did you apologize to her?”

“Would she let me touch her cubs if I hadn’t?”

Cardinalpaw chuckled, feeling a bit relieved at that notion. It was kind of a shock to know that this was the mellow version of his mentor who took a cadet’s limits into account. Though he supposes that explains how she always knows just when his body would break and pushes him along that border without forcing him to cross it. Spottedholly’s pointed warnings directed towards her suddenly made a lore more sense as well.

 Frostfang must be the scariest crafter in the faction.

He opened his mouth to continue the conversation - he didn’t have many criticisms for her mentorship - when he was interrupted by a yowl of alarm from the outside.

Asterdawn was already halfway across the room when Cardinalpaw leapt to his paws; clambering out of the den immediately in fright. They sprinted into the central clearing where Spottedholly was standing. The starmender’s right ear had been shredded, like someone tried to grab her and blood drizzled down her face from claw marks on her cheek and a ragged bite on her throat. She shook her head, sending drops of blood sappling the ground as Nettleflower came forth; dragging a matted mess of brown fur in front of them.

“Fenns,” Spottedholly rasped, the wound to her throat clearly stinging. “They came in through the back - tried to kill me!”

“Frostfang’s kits are gone,” Nettleflower snarled. The old sitter hadn’t been spared either, blood was dripping into her face from claws that tore through the odd-ridges Fenn cats had above eyes like ears. She possessed a similar bite on her throat, shallower like the attacker hadn’t gotten as good of a grip, but her shoulders were bleeding as well. Held down most likely - the Fenns had intended to silence them both. “We were ambushed!”

“Thrushpelt, Nadderpelt, Cedarfur search the nursery for a trail,” Callastorm ordered immediately, the cats in question jumping into action.

Cardinalpaw for his part turned his attention to Nettleflower, as a memory that he’d mostly discarded clawed its way back to the front of his mind.

“You said the Fennyield wasn’t a safe place for cubs - why are they stealing ours?”

The molly froze, an expression of pain and mourning flashing across her face even as the other residents of the nursery turned their interrogative looks on her. It was Deerleap who stepped in, striding forward to sit beside her friend with a reassuring expression. She rested her tail over Nettleflower’s before turning her serious gaze to Asterdawn’s.

“Because Viperclaw is the worst thing to happen to our faction,” the elderly molly spat. “He’s shredded the Order like moss beneath his paws. He makes cubs into cadets at only three moons old, he trains them from sunrise to sunset and makes no exceptions for their bodies. So many cubs have died from exhaustion… from being overworked by him!”

She shook her head in defeated disgust, “And the ones not killed in training die in the pointless battles he sends them out in.”

“He’s sending cubs into battle?” Frsotfang breathed.

“Littlepaw was a cub!” Jackdawpaw shrieked, clearly having had the same doubts that Cardinalpaw had all those moons ago. “And the others probably were too!”

“It’s worse than that,” Deerfoot spat bitterly. “Boarfang was framed for the deaths of three cubs. Viperclaw had her executed in for the murder of cubs that he killed - her own siblings!”

“...Boarfang was your daughter,” Asterdawn said quietly as the faction exploded into outage. Cardinalpaw winced immediately as the pieces slotted into place - her leader murdered her most recent cubs, framed her other cub and had her executed.

“How did you find out?” Cardinalpaw asked.

“She came to me in a dream,” Nettleflower breathed, pain clear in her movements.

“I didn’t believe her at first,” Deerfoot admitted freely. “I’d never thought Boarfang would ever harm a cub, but a dream felt far-fetched for a non-starmender. But then… Clawedears talked about it.”

She spat on the mangy tom’s corpse in anger.

“Said that they were weak and asked if there were other cubs who needed culling,” Deerfoot growled angrily. “And then… I knew. It was a moonless night - Boarfang had come to clear her name to her mother.”

“... Aspenwind, Pollendance reinforce the nursery,” Asterdawn commanded after a moment of thought, her tail lashing furiously as her hackles raised in anger. “Tigerslash and Volewhisker, fan out and search the immediate area for more Fenns lying in wait. They may be waiting for us to go after Frostfang’s cubs to come after Brindlewing’s or Daisyflower’s.”

Tigerslash snarled in fury, the tom already bristled to twice his size as he stormed for the barracks entrance. Volewhisker wasn’t far behind, the usually easy-going tom with a dark expression on his face - it was obvious that any Fenn found would be torn asunder without hesitation or mercy. Aspenwind disengaged from the group of cats, leading Pollendance to the nursery to assess the damage to be repaired.

The Brastilian turned her attention to Swallowflail who gave a firm nod before refocusing on her cadet.

“Cardinalpaw, you’ve trained well. You’re intelligent and skilled with situational assessment. There is nothing more for me to teach you, nor Swallowflail to Jackdawpaw,” she told him. He straightened up at the no-nonsense tone they were taking with him, all too aware of the eyes upon him. “Take Jackdawpaw and scout a way into the Fennyield.”

“Really?” he said, perking up with disbelief. His friend pushed his way to the front, settling beside Cardinalpaw with a serious expression of his own.

“I’ll need Callastorm here to organize a proper patrol when the nursery is repaired,” Asterdawn said curtly. “But there’s rain on the way. I need someone who can be diplomatic and accepting. There must be allies in the Fennyield - cats like Nettleflower and Deerfoot who have suffered at the at Viperclaw’s paws and wish to see him disposed. Consider this your final assessment as cadets - find allies in the Fennyield, or have a plan to take them down when the battle patrol arrives.”

| | |

Cardinalpaw let the way into the nursery, moving past the crafters sizing up the cat-sized hole. Flicking his ear as the first drops of rain began sprinkling the clearing with Jackdawpaw at his tail - they were rapidly running out of time. Jackdawpaw sniffed at the mangled backside of the nursery while Cardinalpaw looked up the damage, slightly impressed that such work had managed to be done without the sitters hearing. He looked at the sheer amount of dirt on the ground, deep clawmarks in the soft soil.

A tunnel, Cardinalpaw realized immediately. A shallow, short one right under the walls of gorse. When the cubs ran to hide themselves in it, they must’ve stumbled in allowing the other Fennyield cats to just scoop them out of the hole and make a break for it. The actual damage to the nursery wall must’ve been done during the scuffle with Spottedholly and Nettleflower. From the bites on their throats, the plan was to kill the ones watching the cubs while everyone was waiting to be allowed back into the nursery.

He released a low growl from his throat - the crafters would notice the damage and hopefully mention it to Asterdawn to be handled.

“Let’s go,” he growled to Jackdawpaw and scrambled from the nursery in the same way the Fennyielders had left.

The scent was rapidly fading in the rain that was beginning to pick up, but there was fur still caught on branches and bushes that would lead them through the forest all the same. Cardinalpaw took the lead, careful to keep his eyes out for anything but with impatient pawsteps all the way. He was so focused on his task, he didn’t notice Ravenpaw until he’d slammed directly into his friend. They tripped over each other released pained yelped, smacking down into the thorns and mud together.

“Ow,” Cardinalpaw groaned. “Got to stop doing that. Ravenpaw what are- what happened?!”

Ravenpaw was panting heavily as he scrambled back, tossing a frightened glance back in the direction he’d come from. His right ear was torn, two tears separating it into three section with similar markings gouged down the size of his head. His shoulder had blood pouring from it and his flanks were matted with blood. He didn’t look any better than Nettleflower or Spottedholly, the lavender-eyed tom now shaking from head to tail.

Jackdawpaw darted forward to support him when his legs gave out beneath him, the lanky tom sobbing into his fur.

“T-tiger- I ran into- he jumped on me and-and-”

“Bastard!” Cardinalpaw snarled, whirling around to glower in the direction his friend had come pelting from. It was only the thought of Frostfang’s kits, so little and likely very afraid, being held hostage in enemy territory; likely being prepared for strict training that kept him from abandoning his task to give the tabby a taste of his own medicine. Cardinalpaw would probably lose - Tigerslash had far more experience and bulk on his side but Skies if it wouldn’t feel good to tear a stripe or four from that tom’s pelt. “We’re out of time! We’ve got to get him out of here.”

Jackdawpaw stared at his paws as water drizzled from his pelt, pooling at his paws in the mud. He looked up, yellow eyes sharp and serious; his claws sinking into the wet soil.

“...send him to your sister,” the dark furred tom said firmly. “Tigerslash would war against the Souls themselves before he set claw in Kingdom territory. It’ll buy us time to find more proof.”

Cardinalpaw immediately jumped on the idea, “Perfect. Ahasra’s usually on the border at night, she sits under the thicker canopy in the rain. If Ravenpaw’s okay with it, she can hide him.”

They turned their gazes to theory shivering friend, who looked even smaller than usual with rain sleek his fur close to his skin.

“W-what if she doesn’t let me stay?” he stammered, shrinking down. “What if he finds me?!”

“Ahasra would never turn away a cat in need,” Cardinalpaw soothed, running his heavy tail over his friend’s back gently. He didn’t know if there were more wounds he couldn’t see but he didn’t want to risk agitating them all the same.  He urged his friend back to his paws, watching the lanky tom sway unsteadily for a moment before finding his balance again. They set off determinedly, pushing through the brush and rain not towards the Fennyield but now towards the Neutral Stretch. “And if Tigerslash gets too close, you can just go further. The Caverns are just behind the Shining Sun and merchant groups travel through all the time. Worst come to worst, you can hide in the mountains.”

Ravenpaw looked at him with his lilac eyes shimmering with a series of warring emotions, gratitude pushing its way to the forefront. He purred so hard his body trembled, pressing his face into Jackdawpaw’s neck; looking up at him with soft eyes.

“...what will you tell the faction?” Ravenpaw asked softly. 

“You were ambushed,” Jackdawpaw said firmly, planting his paws more firmly on the ground. “Cardinalpaw and I found you when we were crossing the border but they threw you somewhere we couldn’t reach.”

“A sinkspot,” Cardinalpaw input. “Nettleflower complained about those on the marshier side of Fennyield land. Not even the Fenns could get him out - we won’t have to explain not having a body that way.”

Their paws ground to a halt at the edge of The Stretch where the tree canopy became thicker, most of the rain shielded from the ground by the leaves. Sure enough, his sister was laying on her back in the soft earth. She giggled incessantly as she gently batted at the gentle orange light provided by the hearthlights; little firefly like creatures that hovered about at night. She was an adorable sight truly and Cardinalpaw was a bit sad to interrupt her fun.

Still, he released a short, sharp chirp that made her bolt upright. Her pinna wriggles before she turned her attention in their direction. She looked around her likely checking for more empire legionaries or guardians before darting across the edge of the border.

“Sori!” she called out, always happy to see her brother. They quickly pressed their foreheads together making happy crooning noises together before stepping back. “And Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw - nice night!”

“It’s beautiful,” Cardinalpaw said, an apologetic expression on his face. “But it’s been a rough night for us Storms… and now I’ve got a huge favor to ask.”

She tilted her head curiously and Cardinalpaw took the opportunity to divulge a summarized story of what had been happening, drawing up details he’d noticed but hadn’t put much thought into at the time. He explained how Mottletail died, how Ravenpaw saw and the way Tigerslash reacted. Cardinalpaw watched his sister’s face run through a series of emotions - alarm, rage, sympathy and concern. When he finally got to his favor - asking her to take him in, she blinked gently at the dark furred tom.

“Of course I’ll take him,” she said sincerely. “You’ll be one of the first empire cats to set paw in the Sun’s Clearing since The Raids though.”

Cardinalpaw winced but Ravenpaw just straightened up, a flicker of determination in his eyes.

“I don’t mind,” Ravenpaw said. “A-anything’s better than staying and-and…”

He shuddered.

“You can be an ambassador,” Ahasra said aloud, tilting her head to the sky. “We can say you’re here for complete culture immersion - no contact with your old home until you’ve reached a certain mark.”

“What mark?”

“We’ll think of one. You can just explain the non-secret aspects of faction-life to the kits and some of the tutors. We’ve always appreciated knowledge above all else - everyone’ll overlook things if you’re polite,” Ahasra said.

Ravenpaw’s face lit up.

“I like talking about faction life with Cardinalpaw,” he confessed, his tail slightly higher. “It’s like getting to see my home from completely new eyes.”

Cardinalpaw laughed, “You’ll fit right in with all of the tutors then.”

“I’ll take you to meet kina,” Ahasra told Ravenpaw gently. “Come on now - the sooner we get this sorted out, the sooner you can settle in.”

She nuzzled her brother and turned to pad back towards the kingdom, living her head as the hearthlights flew around her head curiously; likely drawn by her body heat. He watched her, a pang of familiar sadness as the darkened clouds flashed with lightning; illuminating her silver coat - it was like he was leaving for the factions all over again. Except this time he couldn’t identify all of the new markings decorating her silken coat. He sighed to himself as he turned his attention to Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw saying goodbye.

“... I’m going to miss you,” Jackdawpaw said, drawing his tongue across the smaller tom’s shoulder mournfully. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Ravenpaw offered a soft purr of reassurance, “It won’t be forever. I’ll learn so much - and when I come back, we’ll kick his tail together. Guard Captain and Diplomat.”

They stepped back, watching each other before Ravenpaw dipped his head to Cardinalpaw.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say how thankful I am that you’re my friend,” Ravenpaw said sincerely. “You’ve done so much since you joined this faction…”

“Take care of yourself Ravenpaw,” Cardinalpaw told him softly. “I’ve always thought you reminded me of my brother. But now I know… you’re are a little brother now.”

The lanky tom released a choked sound of warmth, darting forward to touch his nose to the bridge of Cardinalpaw’s like Ahasra had done at the Moon’s Fang. Then he backed up, darting up to where Ahasra had waited patiently while he said goodbye. When he caught up, the two cats seemed to talk before moving on, disappearing quickly between the thick stretch of trees. Their friend gone, Cardinalpaw and Jackdawpaw returned to their mission; sprinting back into Stormborn territory towards the Fennyield. No point in trying to find the trail again as the rain poured down round them, soaking through their pelts and washing away any additional evidence.

Cardinalpaw pretended not to notice the way Jackdawpaw’s steps faltered, or the way that he kept glancing behind them as if Ravenpaw would come bounding after him.

| | |

Begrudgingly, Cardinalpaw thanked all the spirits in existence for the practice of forest sprints as this had to be the third time the practice had come in use. The rain created a wall of silver, pelting down against the earth; it splashed up against them alongside the muddy puddles they darted through. If it weren’t for the sprints he wouldn’t be able to recognize a blade of grass. He’d expected the rain to be lighter - the canopy was thick here as well, but Cardinalpaw had come to realize that the gaps between the trees were larger, leaving the leaves unsupported which made it all too easy for the rain to overpower and send it all crashing to the forest floor.

They broke off a bit, searching along the edge of the Deer’s Tail for any sign of the Fennyield cats. They couldn’t find much - just one mostly washed away pawprint that could’ve been from anyone but it was all they had to go on.

“You know,” Jackdawpaw murmured, sliding into the bushes on the Fennyield side of the border. “When I said I’d chase these flea-bitten rats back into their dens, I’d always assumed I’d have a much bigger patrol. With Our Storm and Lionbelly beside me.”

“Scared?”

“Only a beetle-brain wouldn’t be.”

They began sniffing around for other scents desperately, eventually managing to pick up the faintest scent of the trail they’d been following. It was almost gone, but that was fine - it would probably lead them to the Fennyield’s Barracks which was the last place two cadets without firm back-up should be. No, they needed to fan out and see if they could catch any Fenns on their own - without the backing of their faction, they may be more willing to speak their minds. Not to mention it would be easier and safer for the both of them if they went after one on its own - if it attacked, the two of them could more easily defend themselves.

Cardinalpaw hissed as the rain began to hit him harder. Yes the Fennyield was a forest as well but skies, he’d forgotten the part where their territory met the Stormborn’s was primarily pine forest. Evergreens with thin branches and thinner needles that provided absolutely no defense against the aggressive rain soaking them to the bone.

Jackdawpaw nudged him, helping him refocus on the task as the gray tom led them through the brush. He wondered if the gray tom had merely chosen a direction at random or if he had something in mind, it certainly felt like they were just crawling through dense moss and tangled roots and branches. Eventually though, Cardinalpaw managed to pick up the scent of ukennva underneath the smell of rain and needles.

They picked up the pace, less concerned about the sound their paws made as the sky rumbled above with Vrayushu’s fury. Eventually the scent became strong enough they weren’t struggling to catch it, encouraging the two cadets to poke their heads through a section of pushes. It seemed to just be a random patch of territory within the land - not well defended from the elements with water drenched nests and soaked prey laying scattered. Cardinalpaw couldn’t see any good dips to hide in or any hollows to retreat to. The bushes Jackdawpaw and Cardinalpaw hid within made for a good ambush point - thickly leaved preventing anyone was seeing them while they peered through the gaps on their end.

It took him a moment before he finally saw them - soaked, thin looking cats huddled together on what seemed to be the only dry spot in the patch. Their attempt to get out of the rain had failed, the wind blowing the spray directly into their faces leaving them severely and miserable looking.

“Sweetsoul be merciful,” Jackdawpaw whispered as Cardinalpaw was thrown back to the way Deerleap had looked when he’s brought her to camp. “Those are elders!”

Cardinalpaw shook his head in open disgust, standing from the brush with Jackdawpaw behind him. None of these cats were anywhere near a serous enough threat for a serious battle - one molly he was watching seemed a single swipe from breaching the sky and another seemed half-way to doing so on her own. Even their attempt at intimidation, bringing to their paws and hissing at them when they saw the two cadets did nothing more but bring a sensation of pity and rage for the way they were being treated.

A black tom came stalking forward, fur bristled and his thick tail swinging menacingly behind him. Cardinalpaw recognized him immediately from the story of Mouth Fang.

“Nightrattle,” he said, a bit shocked. The tom’s fur had become patchier since he’d last seen him, tangled and matted as if he hadn’t had time to clean it.

“Storms,” the tom hissed, either not recognizing him or too frightened to think straight. “Why are you here? You’re trespassing!”

“We’re trespassing to get our cubs that your legionaries took,” Jackdawpaw said in a testy manner.

Nightrattle recoiled like he’d been struck, dropping his hackles as the other elders all went quiet at the statement. 

“... I’m sorry,” he apologized. “We thought… we don’t have them. We’re just monarchs and elders.”

“And monarchs?” Jackdawpaw snarled, his offense dropped immediately. “May Moonsoul yank Viperclaw from this plane by his tail!”

“What a stoat!” Cardinalpaw sneered his agreement.  “It’s worse than Nettleflower said!”

“Nettleflower?” Nightrattle perked up, taking a half-step forward in hope. “She’s alive?”

“She’s been granted Sanctuary with Deerfoot with us,” said Jackdawpaw. “Clawedears fought Nettleflower when they last raided our barracks. You didn’t know?”

Nightrattle shook his head, claws sinking into the wet earth, “We don’t get information from our barracks unless we go ourselves. And Viperclaw says any dokeme that can’t contribute claws or numbers isn’t allowed within the camp.”

Cardinalpaw flashed his teeth menacingly, feeling the heat in his chest truly beginning to blaze for the first time since he’d entered the forest.

“As soon as this rain lets up, a Stormborn patrol will charge right over the border and raid the barracks,” Cardinalpaw said, trying to sound as professional Asterdawn usually did. “We were sent away to find allies in the upcoming confrontation to take back our cubs and rid the Fennyield of Viperclaw’s tyranny.”

“I’d love to shove that tom’s dung-stained muzzle into the earth as much as the next cat,” Nightrattle hissed, flexing his claws again. “But no one else in camp will support us. One battle patrol and a bunch of rickety elders can’t take back the barracks. A normal warrior isn’t to raise claw against their Skua who was granted lives at the Moon’s Fang.”

“You’d be protecting the Fennyield from the Souls’ impending wrath,” Jackdawpaw levied. “If you keep letting Viperclaw use their name, you Fenns may be en-route to go the same way as the Lost Faction.”

“He’s doing what?!” a molly demanded, shoving Nightrattle to the side bristling.

“Your Skua Viperclaw has declared his reign is blessed by the Souls himself,” Cardinalpaw said wryly. “He said the Galespun must’ve been dishonorable for him to chase them out and that all he does is the will of Soul themselves.”

There was a terse silence as the elders and monarchs looked between each other, angry expressions dawning upon the faces as the full extent of their leader’s actions weighed upon them. Their rage was palpable in the air and Cardinalpaw turned his gaze to the sky, the cracks of thunder had been growing sparser and sparser as the evening shower began to trickle off.

One molly released a light snarl and looked to Cardinalpaw, “I don’t care what happens - I will remove a Soul-Silencer from the Fennyield if it kills me.”

The rest of the scrawny cats voiced their agreement with rage burning in their eyes. Cardinalpaw grinned an unfriendly grin as lightning illuminated them once more.

| | |

Cardinalpaw resisted the urge to lick off the thick layer of mud smeared across his coat as he leapt out of the bushes in front of the Stormborn patrol. His skin was crawling from the cool sensation as it touched him and he swore to himself that he’d be giving himself a thorough bath at the first opportunity. He understood the action - the scent of the Stormborn was woven through his pelt and with the rain no longer pouring down, it wouldn’t be hard for the faction to identify him. He just wished there was another option that didn’t involve rolling himself through a mud puddle.

He tried to look more in control of himself, straightening up to look at Callastorm and resist the shivering.

The mostly white furred tom dipped his head to him in greeting.

“Did you find any reinforcements?” the lieutenant asked, not sparing any time. 

Cardinalpaw nodded, “Viperclaw has kicked all of the elders and monarchs with cubs over three moons out of their barracks. They’re willing to help us overthrow him to stop him from spouting off about the Souls.”

“He kicked outskirted them?” Callastorm said with disgust, the rest of the patrol equally adopting looks of revulsion.

“Yes,” said Cardinalpaw grimly. “Their nests are soaked from the rain and they hunt from themselves now - they can’t enter the camp unless they’re reporting intruders or one of the monarchs gets pregnant again.”

“Beetledung,” Wildheart spits, extending their claws with disgust. “Viperclaw cannot remain the Skua - it’s like he doesn’t even know they’re his factionmates!”

“I’m glad we can agree.”

Nightrattle stalked from the brushed led by Jackdawpaw. Apparently there had been some loners hiding on Fennyield territory - victims of the raiders that had been taken care of. They’d been hunkering down with the outskirted Fenns, keeping low profiles until it was safe to venture out again. As it was, they were willing to help kick out a tyrant who’d been so cruel to the ones kind enough to shelter them.

One of monarchs - a gentle molly named Dawncloud - darted forward with delighted when she saw Nettleflower pushing her way to the front of the battle patrol.

They touched noses together purring loudly with happiness before looking at the Stormborn patrol.

“Two of my cubs died chasing away the Gales,” she explained bitterly. “And my surviving son was made a legionary. We’re barely a faction anymore - we’re just Viperclaw’s rogue band that he uses to bully others.”

“Open attack is our only option,” Cardinalpaw voiced firmly. “Diplomacy would only let us get attacked.”

“You can use me,” Nettleflower said gruffly. She straightened up as all eyes landed on her, setting her jaw fiercely. “Viperclaw would want me executed on sight. If the elders report seeing me, it could draw the elites from their dens - as soon as they’re out, strike hard.”

“We only get one shot at this,�� Callastorm addressed the Stormborn patrol. “After this, the Fenns will know we mean business. So either we kick him out now or we settle in for war.”

The battle-patrol snarled their understanding as Callastorm turned to the elders.

“Lead the way.”

| | |

“What is that?” gagged Cricketleap, shaking their head with disgust.

The stood upon a ridge overlooking the Fennyield barracks. It was settled in a bit of a dip, completely surrounded on all sides by trees and vines. This deep in the Fenn’s territory, there was mud and water everywhere leaving the ground damp. The barracks were surrounded by a thick layer of brush woven with thorns that could’ve been a brilliant defense were it not visible decaying leaving unpatched holes tears through the brush. The stench of rotting meat filled the air, smothering the scent of the Fennyield cats hidden within the barracks. Cardinalpaw was getting sick to his stomach from just standing near it - it was all he could do to no retch loudly.

“Scavenger food,” Nightrattled admitted, a scowl on his face as he looked away from the barracks, ashamed of his faction. “Raggedjaw eliminated all ranks but guards and Vierclaw followed in that lead - if you want to eat, you go find prey yourself. We’ll take whatever you can get… even if it’s halfway to rot now.”

Jackdawpaw swallowed back his own gag as quietly as he could, slipping into a place beside the brambles. Cardinalpaw hacked a little as he crouched near a toadstool he was almost certain someone had relieved themself near. He took shallower breaths in a desperate attempt to not take in smells, relieved to see that even Callastorm was doing the same.

“Wait here until the fighting starts,” Nettleflower commanded.

She clambered down the ridge to join the other cats, falling to the center of the group allowing herself to be let into the barracks. The rogues that settled with the outskirted elders gathered on the other side of the ridge, watching from the other entry with their muscles tensed for the attack. The air was tense with anticipation, Cardinalpaw barely restraining from clawing the ground at the risk of getting something vile caught between his claws. It only took a moment before the sound of screeching filled the air.

Cardinalpaw was already charging into the barracks when Callastorm yowled the battle-cry into the air.

He charged into the clearing to see the elders already locked in an intense scuffle with the Fenn’s elites. Despite the frightened and cautious eyes of the cats on the sidelines, none of the others made any attempt to get involved. They tensed when the scuffles came near them but none of them raised a paw towards the invading Stormborn legionaries. Dawncloud was right - the Fennyield were hardly a faction anymore, rather than a collection of frightened cats being ruled by a cruel leader.

Cardinalpaw screeched a little, being reminded that he was in the middle of a battle being tackled by a brown tabby launching himself directly on his back. He rolled immediately, startling his attacker as he knocked him from his back. He dodged a stray paw from another fight, yelping as his attacker then snarled and sank his teeth into his ear. The ruddy tom yelped and whirled around, sinking his teeth directly into the tom’s front leg. The tom shook his paw desperately, trying to dislodge him which only made Cardinalpaw sink his teeth in harsher. Only when the tom finally released a desperate shriek of surrender did he release him, allowing the tom to hobble off into the cloud.

He whipped around when he heard another battle cry, prepared to tackle a new enemy only for his heart to break. He shook his head and jumped back, dodging the flailing attacking from the familiar white fluff-ball. Cardinalpaw lunged forward and grabbed Littlepaw by the scruff, never more aware of the younger tom’s age as he hefted the tom off the field without struggle. He dropped the tiny cadet next to a surprised looking molly who was watching the fight from the sidelines.

“Cardinalpaw?” Littlepaw said hesitantly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Cardinalpaw said sincerely, nudging him further from the battle. “Please, just stay out of this.”

He backed away from the tom, watching cautiously to ensure the smaller cadet stayed on the sidelines before turning to rejoin the battle. He spotted another familiar face but this one he grinned dangerously and threw himself on the back of Scorchedmaw. The russet legionary yelped, his legs buckling under his unexpected weight as Cardinalpaw sank his claws into his shoulders. He sank his teeth into the tom’s ears as Scorchedjaw tried to buck him off, spinning and swiping. After a particularly harsh buck, Cardinalpaw found himself thrown off; enjoying the way his teeth tore through the tom’s ear.

He spat out the bit of the ear in his mouth, levelling the tom with a devilish grin. 

“Hogbelly,” the russet tom snarled. “I’m going to enjoy this!”

“Not nearly as much as I will.”

Cardinalpaw dodged to the right as the Fennyield legionary leapt for his tail. He decided to teach him a lesson about targeting his tail as he whirled around, slamming his tail into the tom’s face. The russet tom released a strangled sound of shock as he staggered away from him, shaking his head to recover from the blow dealt to his head. Cardinalpaw didn’t hesitate to take advantage of his disorientation and barreled into the tom, knocking him to the ground. He sank his claws into his shoulders to lock on, attaching tightly to his throat with his teeth. Scorchedmaw kicked and snarled but he couldn’t throw him off, Cardinalpaw took that as the signal to just sink his teeth in deeper; letting the tom’s struggles grow weaker and weaker.

Only when he began to smell actual fear from the aggressive Fennyielder did he finally let go, snapping one last time at the retreating cat’s hindleg.

Cardinalpaw grinned proudly, shaking himself a little as he looked around - the other elites seemed to have already been chased off. The few normal Fennyielders that had hesitantly stepped in to defend their territory had retreated back to the sidelines with light claw marks on their faces though nothing too serious suggesting they’d fought performatively, enough that should Viperclaw survive this ambush they could at least claim to be loyal legionaries.

Smart.

“The fact that you still walk says that Wishsoul wanted me to finish this myself!”

Cardinalpaw whipped around to see one last battle raging strongly - Nettleflower locked in a tight battle with Vipeclaw. The molly’s rage for her lost kits appeared to be fuelling her as she tried to shred the false skua into nothing. Viperclaw shook aggressively, knocking her to the ground before his fangs flashes with the dark miasma of Fennyield elanki.

Nettleflower noticed too, the molly rolling quickly to the to side when he lunged; redirecting to snapping her own teeth into his hindleg. He yelped in pain, reflexively jerking forward before twisting to slam her face with his paw again. 

“You could’ve taught my father a thing or two,” Viperclaw sneered, drawing his tongue across a bit of blood trickling down from his lip. “You’ve been harder to kill than that worthless excuse for a tom.”

“What?” snapped Nettleflower with disbelief.

She wasn’t the only one either - Cardinalpaw had gotten the impression that the Fennyield cats hadn’t been all to fond of Skua Raggedjaw. In fact, most of them at had comments that would lead him to believe that they were relieved he was gone. But the revelation that he hadn’t died a natural way, that he’d been murdered sent the previous passive and anxious looking Fennyielders on the side into a sea of quiet anger. 

“You said the Gales killed him!” a Fennyielder snarled. “You said it was a Galespun ambush!”

Oh, Cardinalpaw thought to himself. Well, that at least explained why they’d gone along with chasing another faction out.

“My father was a weak-willed tom,” Viperclaw scoffed. “All brawn with none of the brains - he would’ve driven this faction to ruin and shamed the great name of the first Skua Fenn herself!”

“What about Boarfang?” Nettleflower snarled to the approving hisses of her faction. “What did she even do?!”

“Boarfang was too weak to see what must be done!” Viperclaw said, bunching his muscles together. “And The Fennyield has no room for the weak or the foolish!”

He tried to launch himself at Nettleflower but Cardinalpaw had been moving since the speech had begun. He intercepted, slamming directly into the larger tom’s flank like he’d crashed into his factionmates by mistake. This time with the full-force of intentional fury, he sent them both sprawling. Viperclaw recovered quickly as Cardinalpaw rolled to his, teeth bared and his pinna pressed flush against his face in fury.

“Shenhiŕan ,” Cardinalpaw snarled.

“What nonsense are you spewing hogbelly?”

“Kinslayer!” Cardinalpaw helpful translated, slashing at Viperclaw’s face. The false Skua jumped back, lunging for the ruddy tom in turn.

“The wilted must be clipped, or the entire tree dies!” Viperclaw hissed.

Cardinalpaw ducked, letting the tom soar over his head before jumping swiftly to the side when he tried to swing his massive tail into him.

“You only kill kin when they’ve left you no other choice!”

“You’re wasting your breath hogbelly,” Vipersclaw scoffed, pausing to raise his head to the sky. “I am the Skua with lives granted to me under Moonsoul’s Eye! You’ll have to kill me nine times over!”

Cardinalpaw laughed coldly as Nettleflower stalked forward to stand just at his flanks - but it wasn’t just her. From all around the clearing, the Fennyield cats came slinking forward, ears flattened and teeth bared.

“What’s nine lives to an entire faction of pissed off cats?” he retorted.

Viperclaw seemed surprised that his faction was acting against hiim, slowly backing away from Cardinalpaw and Nettleflower as more cats began to join them. Monarchs and legionaries alike with their claws unsheathed approached with malice in their gazes.

“Soul-Silencer!” Nettleflower snarled. “Kinslayer!”

“This isn’t the end,” Viperclaw said hastily, making a bolt for one of the many holes torn open in the tunnel.

The Fennyielder snarled, throwing themselves at him when he came too close. A few cats managed to pile atop him, dragging the disgraced leader to the bottom where they tore and bit at him. Viperclaw was many things but Cardinalpaw could admit that a decent fighter was once of them. He smacked a tom trying to go for his hindleg in the face with his study tail then body-slammed another to the ground. Still, the tuddy tom was viciously pleased to see a pool of blood smeared across the ground as the skua finally managed to scramble into the wider forest from the torn barrier.

“We’ve found the cubs!”

Cardinalpaw turned his head to Jackdawpaw, his friend’s right ear torn with blood seeping through his thick fur but the cadet was still standing strong. Lingering in front of a den Cardinalpaw assumed was the nursery were Frostfang’s cubs.

He sighed in relief, rushing over with the rest of the Stormborn patrol to sniff and nudge the innocent cubs as they reassured his wellness. Cinder released a terrified cry, throwing her tiny self into his chest and burying herself in his fur. He purred gently at her in an at her in an attempt at soothing her.

“Are you hurt?” he asked her worriedly, sniffing for any injures.

She shook her head and hid her face again.

“Cinder’s alright,” he reported. “Just very scared.”

“Singe has a hole in his ear,” Wildheart reported. “It’s very small but it’s bleeding.”

Cardinalpaw watched as the Fennyield medic, Magrovebay darted over to the frightened cubs with a mouthful of herbs. Good - it seemed they’d get treatment before they had to go home.

“Cardinalpaw.”

He glanced up to see Callastorm standing with Nightrattle and Nettleflower, beckoning him over with his tail. He rose gently to his paws, paws grasping Cinder by the scruff when the poor cub refused to be separated from him. He settled next to the three cats, looking between them curiously.

“We can’t thank you enough,” Nightrattle said gratefully. “You’ve helped us rid ourselves of a false leader and allowed us to find out the truth of his death. I am deeply sorry for the trouble our faction has caused you - I’m sure the mother of these cubs is very worried.”

“The Stormborn offers you a moon of peace,” Callastorm said. “Just so you can get back on your paws and be a faction of the Empire again.”

Nightrattle dipped his head in respect, “That is very generous of you. The Fennyield accept your offer most humbly and with gratitude.”

The white furred tom nodded and turned his gaze to Nettleflower expectantly.

The molly looked around at the Fennyield cats mingling with each other, slinking around each other and talking quietly. Some cats were already organizing a patrol while other began to patch the holes in the barrier. Her eyes landed on the Stormborn cats nuzzling their cubs in a soothing fashion, a sad smile dawning on her face.

“I will always be eternally grateful for the kindness and mercy the Stormborn have shown to me,” Nettleflower started. “But the Fennyield need me. Without Viperclaw, we have the chance to prosper once more - as a true faction, not a collection of rogues.”

Callastorm nodded in understanding even as Cardinalpaw winced a little. He’d miss the snappy molly and her attitude but at the very least maybe they’ll still see each other at Peace-Gathers. Nettleflower nodded her head to Cardinalpaw fondly, turning towards a patrol - likely intending to join it.

For his part, Callastorm called the patrol together and nudged Cardinalpaw and Jackdawpaw to the very front. They gave him a surprised look, but the other members of the patrol nodded to them in encouragement and approval. He straightened up, lifting his head in response.

“Alright Stormborn,” Cardinalpaw called. “Let’s go home.” 

| | |

Seeing the gorse tunnel was both a massive breath of relief for his sore, aching muscles and also for the little cub hanging from his mouth. He’d been tempted to put her down and check on her a few times - the usually rambunctious and chipper cub had been quiet and still the entire journey back home. So it was a flood of joy for him when Cinder started squirming excitedly, kicking and wiggling in his mouth. He almost dropped her twice before he could adjust his grasp.

“Go ahead Cardinalpaw,” Callastorm laughed, shaking his head kindly. “She’s eager.”

The ruddy tom needed no further encouragement, springing from the top of the ridge and slid down the slope. Tigerslash and Volewhisker perked up upon seeing the cub dangling from his mouth. He didn’t have time to be angry with Tigerslash, instead he slipped into the main clearing and set the eagerly squirming cub down.  Immediately she went sprinting across the clearing to a pacing Frostfang sitting with a sympathetic looking Daisyflower.

“Maam!” Cinder wailed, throwing herself into Frostfang’s belly, her siblings not far behind as the rest of the patrol emerged.

“My cubs!” Frostfang cried, dropping down to pull them closer to herself. She dragged her tongue furiously across her cubs’ faces, swapping between which she was giving all of her attention. They purred fiercely at each other, snuggling close to each other adoringly.

“You found them.”

Cardinalpaw turned his head to see Asterdawn trotting over to battle patrol, Thrushheart at her side.

Callastorm dipped his head, “They were hidden away in the nursery. Viperclaw and his loyalists were driven off - none were killed so we’ll have to keep an eye out for them.”

“The Stormborn honors you,” Asterdawn purred, touching her nose to his forehead.

“We should be focusing on the cadets,” Wildheart voiced, drawing attention to himself. “I saw Cardinalpaw fighting like Bravesoul herself was possessing him - and he still stopped one of the cub-cadets from trying to be involved in the fighting.”

“And Jackdawpaw planted himself in front of the cubs,” Cricketleap informed. “Any time a Fenn came anywhere near them, he ripped them to shreds.”

“Well done you both,” Asterdawn praised immediately.

Daisyflower looked curiously among their ranks, “Where’s Nettleflower?”

Cardinalpaw’s pinna rippled, “She said the Fennyield needed her help to rebuild and recover from Viperclaw’s reign.”

The monarchs and sitters all exchanged disappointed expression with each other.

Daisyflower sighed, “I suppose that’s the noble and respectable thing to do… perhaps we’ll see her at a Peace-Gather in the future. I’ll go tell Deerfoot.”

“I promised the Fennyield a moon of peace as they rebuild,” Callastorm informed their leader, his ear flicking a little. “If that’s alright…”

“It’s perfectly acceptable Callastorm,” they reassured him. “We shall honor your offer - the Stormborn has no quarrel with the remains of the Fennlands. Only that twisted tom that was once their leader.”

She seemed like she was going to say more but a harried Larkwing pushed his way through the crowd. His fur was sticking out in every direction and he was smeared with mud as if he’d been out in the forest for the entire storm.

“Did any of you see Ravenpaw?” he asked desperately. “I haven’t seen him since I sent him back to the barracks - Wrenpaw says he never came back!”

The battle patrol looked among them, even as Jackdawpaw and Cardinalpaw slumped a bit together. It took a moment before eyes drifted to the two of them, the cadets leaning against each other for support even as their factionmates slowly adopted expressions of alarm.

“He’s… gone,” Jackdawpaw whispered and Cardinalpaw knew the grief in his voice was as real as the exhaustion in his own bones.

“He must’ve been ambushed,” Cardinalpaw said, channeling his own exhaustion and pain from the battle and the goodbye into his voice. He sank his sore claws into the ground beneath his paws as he continued. “We-we found him not too far in on the marshy side. He was in a sinkspace. We couldn’t get him out if we tried.”

Larkwing released a gutted sound from his throat and dropped to the ground in grief as his sister, Acornleap wove her way over to comfort him.

“We were… too late?” Longtail rasped.

Cardinalpaw looked up at the arrogant tabby and for the first time, he saw something other than cocky confidence. He saw grief and guilt swirling together on the tabby’s face, likely regretting the way he treated his little brother before he ‘died.’ Wrenpaw slunk over, seemingly in shock as he plopped down against his elder brother who blankly wrapped his tail around him. Cardinalpaw felt a pang of sadness for the tom - Wrenpaw had already lost his mentor in Mottletail and he’d been informed that their mother had died kitting them. His poor friend probably never felt more alone than he did today.

Maybe Longtail will be a better brother now, Cardinalpaw thought to himself hopefully. Perhaps the lanky sandy tom will look out for Wrenpaw, the two of them bonding - and when Ravenpaw returned; he had a brother more willing to accept him for who he is.

“I- it is a tragedy to lose a cat so young,” Asterdawn said quietly into the mourning faction. “Even crueler still for us not to have a body to dress, and so close to his promotion.”

Larkwing made another strangled noise of pain and Cardinalpaw couldn’t help the sensation of guilt that panged through his chest. Hopefully when the truth of everything came out the diplomat would understand why they had to lie.

“As we mourn, there is a ceremony to be held - one as important for Ravenpaw as it is the cadets standing before us.”

The Brastilian turned and padded slowly to the Highrock, clambering to the peak overlooking the faction. It wasn’t until Callastorm nudged him towards the base of the Highrock that he realized what was happening. He and Jackdawpaw slowly climbed the Highrock, occasionally glancing down at their factionmates before they settled just a tail-length away from their leader in full view of the faction.

“I call upon the Souls around me to peer upon these two cadets,” the molly began strongly. “They have trained hard to know your values and learn our ways and we judge them to be ready for their proper names.”

She turned her gaze to the two cadets.

“Cardinalpaw and Jackdawpaw, do you swear to protect this faction from all who would do it harm? To stick with it through surplus and famine? To embody the spirit of what makes a Storm, even should it cost you your life?”

“I do,” Cardinalpaw said firmly with his best friend.

“Then step forward and accept your new names.”

Cardinalpaw allowed Jackdawpaw to move forward first - if there was a special tradition or ritual, he would much rather not mess up in front of the entire faction. 

“Jackdawpaw from this moment on, you will be known as Jackdawstripe - the Souls honor your bravery and loyalty and I am proud to welcome you as a true legionary of the Stormborn.”

His friend moved forward, allowing Asterdawn to rest her chin on the top of his head between his ears. Jackdawstripe then licked her shoulder, giving a little bit of a shudder before stepping back to rejoin Cardinalpaw.

“Cardinalpaw from this moment on, you will be known as Cardinalfire - the Souls honor your endless courage and passion in an unfamiliar place and I am proud to welcome you as a true legionary of the Stormborn.”

Cardinalfire quickly darted forward to replicate Jackdawstripe’s action. He felt her chin touch the space between his ears and he immediately licked her shoulder. He shuddered in surprise himself as a sharp feeling like lightning ripped through his body, slowly dying back down to a quiet buzz in the back of his head. He blinked a bit surprised, his heart felt like it was humming - was this how the entire faction felt all the time?

“Well done Cardinalfire,” Asterdawn whispered to him, pressing her nose to his cheek kindly.

Still, the ceremony wasn’t over. She stepped back to the edge of the highrock, overlooking the faction itself once more.

“Oh dear Moonsoul who welcomes a spirit and Sukahur who ushers them, I beg of you to allow Ravenpaw to hear us; to stand before us as well,” Asterdawn announced. “Though we mourn his loss and will miss him dearly, we know he will enter the Meadows as our bravest cadet tonight. Oh cats of the Starlands hear me speak - welcome him not as Ravenpaw but as Ravencroon, a full legionary of the Stormborn full of warmth and kindness!”

She gestured for the two cadets to step towards the edge, carefully leaving space for the missing Ravencroon.

“Jackdawstripe, Cardinalfire and Ravencroon - please turn to face your faction, no longer as cadets but now as trained legionaries!”

Cardinalfire flinched in shock then straightened with delight, his heart bursting with delight as he exchanged a prideful purr with Jackdawstripe as their faction burst into forceful cries of their names, not unlike the Peace-Gather from before. He turned his head to the cats gathered below, Wrenpaw stood with Longtail and Larkwing calling out to the sky; as if telling Ravencroon of his new name, letting him relish in it.

“The both of you will stand guard outside of the gorse tunnel,” Asterdawn informed them. “Spottedholly will bring you herbs to treat your injuries and scratches but first, grab something to eat. It’s going to be a long night.”

They nodded to their leader obediently, climbing down from the Highrock to the kind murmurs of their factionmates. He allowed his friend to lead the way to the ukennva, ready to pick out a mouse or a squirrel to devour while he waited on guard when he was knocked over. He grunted as he thumped onto the ground, releasing an agitated snarl as he clambered back to his paws; glowering at the form of Tigerslash who watched him with a passive expression.

“Watch where you’re walking,” Tigerslash sneered, stalking by him. “You wouldn’t want any accidents.”

Cardinalfire growled with frustration - ready to claw the massive russet tabby but he restrained himself, gnashing her fangs together. A tail rested on his flanks and turned his head to Asterdawn who was staring with narrowed eyes after the Head Guard.

“Get your meal - I assure you, Tigerslash and I will be having a conversation about his behavior,” the Brastilian growled, stalking off after the thick-furred tabby.

Cardinalfire swallowed his agitation, soothing himself with the knowledge that Asterdawn would be handling it for him, but the encounter had brought everything back to the forefront. He would have to tell Ravencroon of his promotion - it would be hard adapting to the loss of him. He’d always had a flash of silver and black on either side of him - first from his siblings, then from Jackdawstripe and Ravencroon. It would be like moving around with a limb for a while but for now, he would adapt. Just as long as it took to handle the Tigerslash problem.

Threatening Ravencroon, blaming him for Lionbelly’s death and murdering Mottletail… the russet tabby had proven he was a serious threat to the faction.

And hadn’t Cardinalfire just swore an oath in front of the entire faction to protect it from those who would do it harm? To stick with them through the hard times and the good? He wasn’t a defenseless, naive tom unable to stand on his own. The rest of the faction trusted him, believed in his abilities - the two cats made of flame from his visions came to mind, burning braising in his chest. Spottedholly said she’d had that vision before herself - something about two cats of fire would be important to the faction and he would have to remain on guard. An ally or an enemy… he wouldn’t be surprised if he had to defend the subject of the Sight from Tigerslash’s violent ambitions.

He took in another sharp breath of the cooling air, flexing his claws determinedly.

Cardinalfire ducked his head, snatching up a pair of mice and began to move towards the gorse tunnel.

Let Tigerslash try - he would set him aflame.

---

Previous | Post Allegiances | First

[strelles-universe]

Strike the Match - Chapter 11: The Moon's Fang

Cardinalpaw panted, the scratches littering his body stinging painfully as he disengaged from his enemy. A blinding white light shone from no-where, piercing his eyes as he shook his head furiously. He tripped over his own paws when what felt like another set of claws dug deep into his skin, sending him slamming into the ground with a yowl of terror. Blood filled his mouth as he bit his tongue, scrambling frantically back to his paws so he couldn’t be ambushed. He whipped around in panic, watching in horror as more and more enemies clawed their way from the very shadows; no discernible features visible on their forms. They snarled angrily, lunging towards his factionmates menacingly. Cardinalpaw fought back with all that he had, yelping again when braising fangs sank into the scruff of his neck and tried to throw him.

He struggled to free himself, lashing out desperately; his claws sliding through the shadowy cats but never seeming to catch, never seeming to bother them.

It was only a piercing, grief stricken howl ringing through the air that seemed to bring the chaos to a halt.

Jackdawpaw? He recognized immediately.

The teeth holding him seemed to disappear on the spot and Cardinalpaw darted forward through the suddenly thick throng of cats. He shoved and slipped his way though the crowd, desperate to reach the front where he could hear his friend and see-

Nothing much in the dim light of the cadet’s den as a sharp feeling prodded his back.

Cardinalpaw sprung to his paws immediately, muscles still tense for battle. His pinna were pulled flush against his face and he bared his teeth, snarling the best he could as he lashed out in the direction of the paw. He couldn’t hear anything over the bounding of his heart, the surrounding area seemed blurry; he couldn’t recognize anyone. He tensed again as a shadow approached him, hissing immediately in warning.

The silhouette froze, a leg in the air as if startled by his reaction.

Cardinalpaw growled again as his vision slowly began to clear up, the haze of sleep fading from his gaze. He blinked slowly, allowing the fog to fade more and more as the sounds of the den began to filter into his ears.

He blinked again the silhouette was now Tigerslash, standing wide-eyed with a paw outstretched as if about to poke him again. The large tom slowly lowered his paw to the ground, unsure how to proceed.

He turned his head to see his denmates all crowded together. 

Jackdawpaw had moved away at some point, now sporting a notched ear a set of clawmarks on his muzzle that he immediately felt terrible for. He’d done that? Ravenpaw seemed unscathed thankfully, curled between his equally alarmed brother Wrenpaw and the wide-eyed Chaffinchpaw. He couldn’t see Swallowtailpaw and Quietpaw at first, but then he spotted a flash of ginger fur behind Tigerslash and figured they were hiding from him.

Cardinalpaw swallowed his guilt and nerves, his pinna drooping a little and he walked towards his friends. To their credit, they didn’t flinch despite clearly being alarmed by whatever he’d done in his sleep. He pressed his nose to Jackdawpaw’s cheek guilty.

“... I’m sorry,” he apologized quietly.

“It’s okay,” Jackdawpaw told him immediately before pausing. “...are you okay?”

Cardinalpaw looked towards his paws, “It was just a nightmare.”

“Some nightmare,” Chaffinchpaw said, visibly spooked. “It was like you were taming boars.”

I wish, Cardinalpaw thought to himself. Taming boars at least wouldn’t have been so intimidating.

“...come on,” he said aloud, nudging Jackdawpaw again. “You need to see Spottedholly.”

“They’re not that deep,” said Jackdawpaw but he didn’t protest too hard, obligingly following his friend from the den. Cardinalpaw was a bit surprised that Ravenpaw came with him, trotting up onto the left-side of him but it made him feel better all the same. He doesn’t think he’d ever been so discomforted by a dream in his life. He recognized his friend’s cry of fear - he wasn’t sure how, he just did. He never got to see why either.

Already the bits and pieces of the dream were escaping him, leaving his thoroughly shaken but ultimately frustrated as the details of why slipped past him.

He released a little sigh, looking up as they came to Spottedholly’s den. The long-furred molly was already waiting outside for them with stacks of leaves placed before her paws with a warm smile as they approached. Her cheery expression turned to one of concern when she spotted the claws on Jackdawpaw’s face.

“What happened?” she asked him, leaning down to sniff the wounds.

Jackdawpaw opened his mouth but Cardinalpaw spoke before he could, “I had a nightmare and Jackdawpaw was too close.”

Jackdawpaw shot him a little glare as Spottedholly’s face became sympathetic.

“Come on then, let’s go those treated before you go,” said the mender, leading Jackdawpaw swiftly into her den. “Those travelling herbs are for you - eat those instead of fresh-prey to remain sated for the journey.”

Cardinalpaw obediently dipped his head, sniffing the herbs as the mender retreated. His tongue flicked out, scooping up the leaves into his mouth. He grimaced immediately at their bitter flavor, screwing up his face with a light gag. They weren’t as bad as some herbs - from what he could taste, they’d been laced with honey and something else - forest mint he thinks - to mask the taste but they still weren’t anything he’d nibble on willingly.

His ear flicked at a similar gag and turned his attention to Ravenpaw choking down his herbs with a familiar expression. He snickered, receiving a smack in the shoulder for his amusement.

“... so what’s the Moon's Fang like?” Cardinalpaw asked.

Ravenpaw flicked his tail, “I’ve only been to the Tongue myself so I can’t be completely sure. But Longtail says-”

“Longtail?” Cardinalpaw interrupted, skepticism immediately entering his voice at the tabby’s name.

“I know he isn’t the nicest, but he’s my brother too,” Ravenpaw said, his earns pulling back a bit defensively.

“He is?” Cardinalpaw blinked disbelievingly. He supposes he can see it - Ravenpaw, Wrenpaw and Longtail all shared the same tall and somewhat slender builds that made them stand out among the Stormborn. Longtail and Ravenpaw both possessed the large, somewhat cone-shaped ears that spurred whispers of Galespun heritage among the elders. “But he never plays any games with you.”

Ravenpaw sighed and looked away, “... Longtail likes Wrenpaw a lot more than me. He’s a better fighter - looks a bit heavier than me too. He’s an important member of the Stormborn.”

“Being a diplomat is plenty important!” Cardinalpaw protested, the fur on his neck bristling.

Ravenpaw adopted a bitter look, “Not to Longtail. All we do is talk to other factions and hide behind the fighters.”

“Any cat who thinks that has bees in his brain.”

The two cadets glanced up at the same time as Spottedholly slipped from her den with Jackdawpaw trotted up to them. His muzzle had a little leaf patch smeared across it, hiding the wound a few cobwebs strung across the cut in his ear. He ducked his head to swallow down the travelling herbs himself, gagging loudly - and fairly dramatically - as Spottedholly frowned above them.

“A diplomat keeps the peace-times peaceful and makes the wartimes bearable,” she said sternly to Ravenpaw. “It sounds like your brother has been listening to his mentor a bit too much.”

“His mentor?” Cardinalpaw echoed.

“Pricklestripe,” Jackdawpaw said helpfully, drawing his tongue across his muzzle trying to dismiss the taste of the herbs from his mouth. “He trained Longtail up - and probably spouted a bunch of beetle-brained nonsense to him while he did it.”

Well that explains a lot, Cardinalpaw mused to himself. Any cat brought up by someone as dislikable as Pricklestripe would come out trying to make fires with wet wood.

“Cheer up Ravenpaw,” Spottedholly soothed. “Longtail isn’t a cadet anymore - the real world will get to him eventually.”

The lanky cadet didn’t seem too convinced but Cardinalpaw hoped that the mender was right. Being so close to his own five siblings, Cardinalpaw couldn’t imagine one of his brothers being so… opposing to his own existence. Though he’d been closest to Ahasra and Adihikko, his bigger brother had been a supporter himself. Hreto never let him go through anything alone if he could help it - he’d stepped up, trying to fill the role of father as best as he could for the rest of their litter even with the protests of their mother and biggest sisters.

“...as for the Moon's Fang,” she trailed upon seeing the diplomat cadet wasn’t going to say anything else. She turned her attention to Cardinalpaw instead. “The Moon's Fang rests in the chest of the Mother Maw, channeling the power of Moonsoul immobilizing it. When Moonsoul’s gaze touches their fang, it explodes into light and energy. It’s hard to describe… it’s such an awe-inspiring encounter.”

Cardinalpaw tried to imagine it in his mind’s eye and his dream came back unbidden - a blinding white light illuminating the darkness around him. He shivered a little and changed the subject.

“The Mother Maw?” he asked.

“One of the Great Beasts from the time of the Ancients - it’s said that The Mother Maw devoured all of her own kind in her gluttony,” Spottedholly explained. “Moonsoul’s power turns the beast to stone each night, immobilizing it so that it can’t devour the spirits of cats coming to seek guidance.”

Cardinalpaw purred a little - he loved a good story. Even abridged as this one was, it was full of interesting bits and droplets of faction-life. A culture that he was taking in bit by bit.

“I think I would rather be eaten than taste those herbs again,” Jackdawpaw complained, sticking his tongue out and shaking his head.

Spottedholly chuckled at him, “They will keep you full far longer than any blood prey. Besides, no creature may enter the Mother Maw with blood on their mouths lest they wake the beast.”

“It could wake it up?” Ravenpaw said, his ears immediately pulling back with alarm. “Even with Moonsoul’s Fang within it?”

“Yes,” Spottedholly told them seriously, making them all shudder. “You’ll be able to see it for yourself when you enter, the Mother Maw cannot eat physical forms while Moonsoul keeps her pinned but it can steal spirits.”

“...less and less enthusiastic about this journey,” Cardinalpaw said, his small dorsal fins clapping a little in his discomfort. “Can’t you come with us?”

“Ordinarily I would. It’s safest for all parties involved if a starmender is present when cats enter the Mother Maw as Moonsoul will sense us first,” Spottedholly said with a little sigh. “But I am the only mender and I have no cadet. Our Asterdawn was granted her lives at the Moon’s Fang so she will be your guide instead. Leaders shine brightly to the Starlands.”

Cardinalpaw digested this information with his friends as Spottedholly gestured to the approaching forms of Sumta Asterdawn and Tigerslash. With Lionbelly as their lieutenant and the Fennyield behaving more like a gang of bullies than a respectable faction, it was decided that the barracks should retain the most powerful legionaries. His eyes flitted down to the braided string hung around his mentor’s throat; basil and chamomile swinging loosely with her every step. It took Cardinalpaw a moment to summon memory from that lesson - the diplomat’s braid. With the Galespun gone, there wasn’t really a reason to use it - they would encounter no patrols from them.

Maybe she’s hoping that by doing everything right, it’ll bring us good fortune, Cardinalpaw reasoned to himself.

“May Moonsoul bless your travels,” Spottedholly said respectfully, dipping her head to the small group. 

“Thank you Spottedholly - I hope the stars have answers for us,” said Sumta Asterdawn, dipping her head.

She flicked her tail, motioning for them all to follow her as she led them towards the gorse tunnel. He followed her lead, offering a respectful nod to Cricketleap and Chikadeechitter who were on tunnel guard duty this time as they entered the wider forest. He tensed himself, ready for a furious sprint through the forest to arrive at The Kirkyard and then the moor but blessedly his mentor set a somewhat languid pace. He trotted lightly after his mentor, the end of his tail curled up lightly in passive enjoyment of the territory around him.

His gaze slid to the side, a slight purr thrumming in his throat as he watched his friends get into a friendly shoving competition. Tigerslash occasionally glanced at them, as if annoyed by their lack of seriousness but for the most part the tabby warrior remained vigilant; amber eyes scanning the clearing as if expecting a Fennyield ambush to burst from the brush at any second. It made Cardinalpaw nervous for such a powerful warrior to be so openly unnerved - Tigerslash was the third-largest cat in the Stormborn after both Lionbelly and the Sumta respectively. How bad was he expecting the ambush to be?

He looked up as they passed from their territory into The Kirkyard, the loud birdsong ringing through the trees slowly fading and the mice taking care to hide themselves from the approaching cats.

Sometimes Cardinalpaw forgot just how beautiful the forest he grew up in could be.

It was with a pang of regret and a flash of discomfort that he left the tree-line with his factionmates, stepping into the open stretch of the moor. With the Galespun completely gone, there was no point in even posing the respectful pause that a patrol might have for crossing borders. A shiver ran up his spine - a combination of the strong breeze blowing unobstructed through his fur and the discomfort of being so exposed. At ten moons old, Cardinalpaw could count on one foot how many times he’d ever left the comfort of the forest and this particular visit wouldn’t even have him using another leg. The loose swaying branches that covered the kingdom allowing pools of sunlight to dapple their clearing and the thick, sheltering cover of the Stormborn section made him feel secure.

He was reassured in his discomfort when he looked at his factionmates - though Asterdawn’s head was held high, she occasionally glanced up at the sky with a grimace to her muzzle; the frizz of her neck a bit bushier. Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw stopped goofing around, drawing closer to each other as they looked around uneasily. Even Tigerslash appeared to be putting up a front, stalking forward with firm steps though his tail lashed furiously; the fur on his hackles bristled as if prepared for a fight. 

All this with just the absence of something familiar.

How could the Fennyield stand this? Cardinalpaw wondered as they pushed through the tall dry grass and throngs of heather - after all, the marsh dwelling cats lived under a canopy of trees themselves. Didn’t they find the lack of branches unnerving? Wouldn’t the constant howling of the wind send shivers down their spines? And moreover, at least the Stormborn and Galespun had somewhat similar terrain - Fennyield territory was wet.

Cardinalpaw pressed down firmly on some of the craggy grass and listened to it crunch beneath his paws.

Swallowtailpaw and Quietpaw had both claimed that most drinkable water was somewhere underground. If there were frogs around here then Cardinalpaw would also be inclined to search for fire-lizards and stone spirits. 

The patrol crossed out of the moor with a collective sigh of relief when the tree-cover began to return. It wasn’t nearly as dense as their own beloved canopy, with sparse twisted shrubs that grew shorter and shorter the further away they got but at least they were trees. Cardinalpaw cast one last glance to the heath - waving, rippling golden grasses interspersed with sections of pink and lavender heathers; moths rising into the air as the strands flicked.

The moor is beautiful too.

Their journey continued on in complete silence, Cardinalpaw’s mind began to wander. 

Given they were headed to a sacred place, this time was probably meant to think about the questions they may have for the Starlands. He didn’t have any really - he was still floating near polite disbelief, preferring his own gods to the ones of the factions. His ear flicked in response to the rippling grass - softer and greener than the grass from the Galespun territory but still more sparsely settled than from the biggest section of the canopy. His mind touched lightly on several things - Adihikko, so far from home learning to perfect a craft in place of spending time with them; Ahasra finally being given her chance to show how capable she could be; he thought about how much he missed being home, having his siblings at his side every time he looked at his denmates.

Cardinalpaw was so deep in thought he almost didn’t notice the changing terrain.

The ground took on a rocky appearance; sand and grit interspersing through the grass. He shivered, attention caught by an unusually chilly breeze ripping through his pelt encouraging him to look up. He tilted his head back, looking upon the massive structure that the empire called The Mother Maw. The cavern massive, the rock extending outward creating a large platform shaded by the overhang stretching across it. Stalactites hung from the roof and pointed stone rose from the base, each lining the rims of the cavern like rows of teeth. Cardinalpaw took a nervous step back as another chilly, damp breeze ruffled his pelt from the cavern.

Suddenly the idea that this cave was a petrified beast held a lot more weight than before.

He flinched at the sound of something crunching, immediately turning his attention to see his mentor settling herself down gingerly beside one of the tallest ‘teeth’ protruding from the ground.

“The is setting, but Moonsoul’s Eye is not wide enough to have lit the fang,” the Sumta explained, tucking her paws beneath herself. “So now, we wait.”

| | |

“There’s someone here.”

Cardinalpaw blearily opened his eyes are the gruff statement from Tigerslash. He, Ravenpaw and Jackdawpaw had played rather hard waiting for the daylight to pass - wrestling and chasing each other until they were tired. When hunger had started prickling at their stomachs, they’d wordlessly curled up with each other in the hopes that when they woke again, it would be time to enter the Mother Maw.

He turned his head towards the massive russet tabby who was now sitting up properly, peering over the landscape to a collection of moving dots that might have been creatures. He looked to his mentor - Asterdawn’s chin was resting on their forepaws, gaze cast forward towards the approaching creatures as well. Unlike Tigerslash, her hackles were flat to the ground; legs tucked beneath her to stand but with no ruffled fur.

The ruddy tom turned his eyes back to the cats; squinting a little at one - a silvery furred cat whose spots seemed more and more familiar by the second.

“I think those are Seekers,” he voiced, recognizing the formation of the blurs as Seekers escorting a prisoner.

“From the kingdom?” Ravenpaw asked curiously.

“I think so.”

Tigerslash didn’t back down - he remained standing, watching with amber eyes narrowed in suspicion as he put his large form between Asterdawn and the approaching party. He was tempted to roll his eyes but admittedly, the tom wasn’t doing anything wrong - Tigerslash would make a good heir’s guard.

As the specks got closer, Cardinalpaw was finally able to identify the silver blotch in the front with a chuckle.

“It’s Ahasra,” he remarked.

“Your sister?” Asterdawn said, immediately sitting up and beginning to groom her ruffled fur. A twinge of discomfort rang through him at the reminder that his sister was still someone important outside of the Empire. Sparks, she was important within the kingdom too - their mother’s most precious ember.

Instead of responding directly, Cardinalpaw just tilted his head back slightly and released a short piercing shriek. His factionmates all cringed from the sound, Tigerslash swinging his head around to glower at him; ears flattened against his head but Cardinalpaw just focused on the little squad of cats. Sure enough, he received a responding shriek followed by a more friendly warble as the silvery-form of his sister picked up the pace.

She galloped over the short, craggy grass towards them easily and Cardinalpaw purred the moment she was within earshot. Ahasra crooned in response and pressed her cheek against his fondly. After a brief pause to drink in each other’s scent, she touched her nose to the bridge of his and stepped back.

“I didn’t know the empire-cats ever left the forest,” Ahasra said, looking around at his factionmates curiously. She observed Asterdawn’s necklace with a curious expression but dipped her head to the molly all the same, recognizing her as leader. “What are you doing so far?”

“We could ask the same of you princess,” Asterdawn countered immediately.

Ahasra’s face wrinkled in response to the title - likely as discomforted by the connection-tongue title as Cardinalpaw felt sometimes. Rather than comment however, she flicked her tail to the collection of cats standing not too far behind her; watching the faction-cats with cautious body-language. 

Cardinalpaw recognizes a few of them - a slender blue lynx-point tom named Eins and a deep gray spotted molly; Yiska - bringing up the rear. Standing between them is a young fox - a young vixen maybe looking between them all with curiosity.

“We’re taking Little Birch home,” Ahasra explained, motioning to the fox. “She got separated from her travelling group by raiders.”

“Out here?” Cardinalpaw said, a bit mystified. This wasn’t a very commonly visited trail - certainly not a popular trader’s route given how closely it brushed the Empire and the Republic of Courage - both lands well-known for having a low-tolerance for thieves.

“We think they were stalked,” Yiska provided, plodding forward; stepping between Ahasra and the Empire cats, taking up a similar pose to Tigerslash himself. This time, Cardinalpaw did roll his eyes and noted his sister doing the same but curiously, not speaking on it. “After we take Birch home, we’re probably to come back out and track down the Raiders. Creatures already have to go the long way because of Havoc’s Pack down in the Vastweald.”

“Do you think these raiders are nearby?” Tigerslash demanded, looking across the landscape as if they’d appear on the bridge.

“It’s possible,” Ahasra admitted. “We only found Little Birch a bit away from here and the skulk is on the far-side of their territory for the new-bloom.”

“Maybe it’s best if we all stay together then,” voiced Eins voiced. “We have no idea how big the raid-group really is - Little Birch didn’t get a good look and ambush is… probable.”

“We can’t all go into the Mother Maw,” Ravenpaw noted, casting a nervous glance towards the gaping mouth of the cavern. “And Tigerslash is the only real Legionary. If he gets ambushed…”

The group as a whole grimaced. As big as Tigerslash was, Cardinalpaw imagined that being outnumbered would put a serious damper on the tom’s ability to defend himself.

“Then we stay together.” Asterdawn said decisively. “It won’t be longer before highmoon anyway.”

| | |

“It is time.”

Cardinalpaw yawned as he was awoken from his second nap, the brilliant silver light of Vashara shining down on their pelts. He stretched the cramp out of his mildly rejuvenated muscles, feeling more alert and awake than he has in moons. He’d been aware of his homesickness but here, curled up under the open sky with his sister snuggled into him; he could almost pretend he was back home. Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw were great - his denmates were great - but they weren’t his siblings. 

Jackdawpaw groaned as another mouse scampered by them almost teasingly. Given that none of Ahasra’s squad had any reason to venture into the Mother Maw, they had eaten before they set out and though they respected the request not to spill blood on the Maw’s tongue, it was getting harder and harder for cadets to contain their hunger.

Ahasra gave him an affectionate lick to his shoulder before twisting and to begin the process of grooming her glossy, sleek coat; raising a dainty white paw to her muzzle to groom.

Asterdawn overlooked the cavern before turning her head, “Ravenpaw, you will return to the Moon’s Fang for your promotion so you will wait here with her highness - Tigerslash, you shall act as the group’s defender.”

Tigerslash gave a curt nod of understanding while Ravenpaw adopted an expression of relief. The diplomat cadet sighed and sat back down beside Eins whom he’d been in deep conversation with.

“Cardinalpaw and Jackdawpaw, you shall accompany to the Chest so you may have the light of the mauwa touch you directly.”

“Be safe,” Ahasra called out as Asterdawn turned to begin leading them into the throat of the beast. 

As soon as they passed the ridge of the creature’s maw, the air turned cool. The damp air blowing from the tunnels gently rustled his fur, the walls steadily growing narrowing the further in they went. The vague nervousness wafting from Jackdawpaw grew stronger and stronger - especially when they passed by walls that brushed even Cardinalpaw’s ribcage. A few times Asterdawn would have to pause and wiggle their massive shoulders through a narrower passageway or re-route entirely when it became apparent they wouldn’t be getting by without injuring themself.

The gentle light of Vashara faded rapidly, the deep cracks in the cavern becoming fewer and fewer. It wasn’t long before Cardinalpaw was straining his eyes, letting his pinna brush against the walls in the best attempt at navigating the tunnels. The cavern echoed in time to their breathing, amplifying any little sounds they made; filling the air with breathless pants and little grunts. He caught faint, old scents in the air - potentially other members of the Empire that also ventured into the beast seeking out the Moon’s Fang. 

He adjusted the positioning of his paws as the ground sloped further, becoming angled in nature. The ruddy tom extended his claws, doing his best to acquire any form of grip on the rocky earth. The damp air wasn’t for show - there were sleek spots on the ground, the faint sound of trickling water dripping down pat pat pat into their ears.

Jackdawpaw grasped Cardinalpaw’s tail in his mouth. The ruddy tom glanced over his shoulder towards his friend once or twice - he couldn’t see anything but the nervous scent had morphed rapidly into fear. The larger cadet openly shuddered every time a stream of warm air brushed across their backs.

Is the Moon’s Fang in the shell’s center? Cardinalpaw found himself wondering.

Asterdawn followed an unseen path, choosing direction and twists seemingly at random with a stiff confidence only challenged by their own slightly bristled hackles. Cardinalpaw’s sense of direction had been thoroughly scrambled three turns ago and Asterdawn was leading them deeper still.

Not having a destination, not having an idea of how much deeper they were going was starting to eat away at even Cardinalpaw’s nerves eventually so he was relieved when the tunnel finally began to level out. Asterdawn picked up the pace, her careful deceive stroll quickly becoming a firm trot as she approached the widened edge of the tunnel that opened into a cavern.

Cardinalpaw gasped aloud, the sound bouncing around the walls of the silent cave.

Moonlight was already pooling through one of the deep crevices in the ceiling, illuminating the various structures within the cave. The crowning jewel - The Moon’s Fang itself - was obvious. A massive curved structure that Cardinalpaw likened to the stalactites clinging desperately to the roof of the cavern. With many rounded edges and miscellaneous flattened surfaced that made it seem like some blessed sculptor shaped it with their own forepaws.

But that wasn’t all.

Various small sparking ores littered the cavern - shales of orange and quarts of pink layered random sections of the walls, some broken off laying shattered on the ground. More importantly - more alarmingly - were the cat skeletons. Some complete, curled together as if they’d died in their sleep and others broken leaving only skulls or ribcages. They glittered under the brilliant gleam of Vashara’s light, cluing Cardinalpaw into the realization that the skeletons too were made of crystal.

…is this was Spottedholly meant when she said the beast ate spirits? Cardinalpaw thought to himself in horror. He almost regretted asking her about the Mother Maw now - if he’d come down here blind, maybe he could’ve left thinking the skeletons were merely pretty rather than a sign that the beast had indeed come to life at some point in the past. He sincerely hoped that his sister and her squad remained respectful of the Empire’s traditions - he didn’t want to be the next skeleton turned to jewels.

He nearly jumped out of his pelt when Jackdawpaw pressed against him, shaking so hard Cardinalpaw was surprised he was still standing. His friend must’ve remembered Spottedholly’s explanation too.

A glint caught the corner of his eye and he turned his head in time to see the first ray of moonlight touch the fang.

The cavern exploded into light, the enormous rock twinkling as if all the stars in the sky were contained within it. Surrounded by the crystallized skeletons of the deceased, jewels and skulls gathered at the base of the fang as the light illuminated the dust and dirt falling from the ceiling like a glittering shower; Cardinalpaw could believe it had truly come from the mouth of a god.

He almost didn’t even notice when Jackdawpaw dropped to his stomach, shaking in a combination of true fear and awe.

Asterdawn strode forward, their form obscuring some of the light casting her into a deep silhouette as she settled at the base herself. She seemed unbothered by the skulls touching her paws or the tail-bones brushing against their flank. Cardinalpaw wondered briefly if the blinding light hurt her eyes any as the Brastiliion pressed her nose unflinchingly against the undoubtedly cool stone.

Cardinalpaw just released a soft sigh and settled down beside Jackdawpaw to offer his best friend support and to wait for his leader to reawaken. 

It seemed like days but it was likely only minutes as he’s only just started to grow cold in the face of the Moon’s Fang finally dying down. His leader had been completely still for the entire time - her breathing slowing to the point that Cardinalpaw had started to become worried that it had stopped entirely. He watched her anxiously, unsure of how the transformation from cat to crystalline skeleton happened and how quickly it would take. Still, he resisted the urge to check on his leader and waited loyally for her to rise again.

The way the light faded it was more like it was illuminated from the inside, little sections slowly fading; flickering slowly until they went out for good. Jackdawpaw focused on grooming the fur on his shoulders, seemingly needing a distraction of any kind to soothe himself. Cardinalpaw’s eyes had only just readjusted to the darkness of the Chest, darkness obscuring the entire cavern in mere moments when Asterdawn started shifting.

Twin sighs of relief came from the cadets as their valiant leader raised her head.

“Cardinalpaw? Jackdawpaw?”

“We’re here,” his friend croaked, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

He heard the tinkling of stones falling and bones being brushed aside as Asterdawn climbed to her paws then moved without hesitation towards the entrance of the cavern.

“We must return to our barracks immediately.”

That was all she said.

Cardinalpaw and Jackdawpaw scrambled furiously to their paws to dart after their leader who was moving with the swiftness of Haseni himself. Asterdawn navigated the tunnels expertly, seeming to remember each of the correct directions as she hadn’t gotten caught even once this time. The journey out was much quicker than the journey inward - it seemed like no time at all before Cardinalpaw was tasting fresh air and they burst from the Maw’s Jaw.

Tigerslash was waiting at the very edge of the Mother Maw’s jaw, peering around the row of teeth when they emerged. He turned in surprise at Asterdawn’s urgency but stood immediately all the same, his actions mirrored by a deeply confused Ravenpaw who pulled slightly away from Eins.

“I apologize for the abruptness of my actions Lady Ahasra,” the Sumta informed his sister as Cardinalpaw and Jackdawpaw darted to her sides. “But this is an emergency - we must return to our barracks as quickly as possible.”

“No harm done,” Ahasra said easily, getting to her paws herself. Her squad slowly gathered closer to her, Little Birch careful to stay in the center of them. Cardinalpaw quickly took the opportunity to touch noses with her in farewell, earning a gentle purr of pleasure. “May your Skies be clear and your future bright.”

“And be careful!” she added as the group turned and peeled from the area. 

| | |

The Empire Spirit Haseni or one of the many spirits of the Skies, Cardinalpaw didn’t know who to thank for his current stamina but he swore he’d find a way to show his gratitude all the same. Asterdawn had set a grueling pace the likes of which the forest sprints had never offered with thick tufts of stubbornly growing grasses and low-lying bushes just waiting to trip him up. His legs ached, and his paws stung from the harsh way they slapped against the ground - though the walk to the Mother’s Maw had been leisurely and gentle, it was still a long journey to make. 

Even Tigerslash for all of his muscular build was struggling to keep up as Asterdawn ran Moonsoul had graced her with wings.

“Ravenpaw!” the burly tom tried to snap, though it came out sounding more like a breathless gasp. “Keep up!”

The lanky cadet released a groan from his throat but lengthened his strides as he tried to keep up with their entire group. It was only when Jackdawpaw stumbled, his paw catching a section of earth sending him slamming into the ground did their leader realize she was leaving them in her dust. They came to a halt, watching as Jackdawpaw staggered to his paws again panting; a bit of blood trickling from his mouth.

“I bit ma’ lip,” he whined, shaking his head a little.

Cardinalpaw lowered his head, sniffing the blood on his mouth and poked out his tongue to lick it off. Jackdawpaw’s ears flattened against his head but he offered a shy smile of gratitude all the same.

Thankfully, instead of sprinting off like a boar possessed again when they’d recovered; Asterdawn instead set the pace at a brisk if impatient walk across the scraggy ground. It was still faster than usual but at least Cardinalpaw had time to breathe now.

They were making relatively good time when a shriek came from the back of the party.

“Ravenpaw!” Jackdawpaw yelped.

Cardinalpaw whirled around in time to see a cat trying to drag Ravenpaw off even as another targeted Tigerslash.

“Raiders!” he called out, yelping a moment later himself as a heavy weight landed on his back and something sharp pierced his shoulder. He twisted around immediately, sinking his teeth into the flesh of a small squeaking creature seemingly trying to burrow into his skin. He snapped the creature’s spine and sent it flying.

Rats? He wondered in confusion. The raiders had rats?

At least now he knows why Little Birch couldn’t give them an accurate count on how many raiders were around. If the raiders were breeding and training rats to assist them in ambushes, you wouldn’t be able to afford stopping to count raiders or you risk being dragged down by a group of the well-trained rodents.

Cardinalpaw slapped down another as it lunged for his face in time to hear a battle-cry. He looked up in time to see his sister’s group had returned - one fox short - throwing themselves into the fray with a snarl. Eins dragged one of the rat-masters off of a struggling Ravenpaw, teaming up with Jackdawpaw to drive the tom off while Yiska raced to Asterdawn and tore another from her back.

Ahasra landed beside him, the two siblings reflexively falling back to back. Cardinalpaw whirled around, slamming his tail into another row of rats while Ahasra sank her teeth deeply into the leg of another raider. Cardinalpaw abandoned his assault on the rats in favor of tearing the ear of their master earning another yowl, this time of panic from the tom.

The rats had begun to scatter - they were smart creatures and now that the opening for their attack had been thoroughly lost, the rodents were abandoning their masters in favor of getting out of reach of sharp claws. Rat army lost, the raiders tried to make a run for it; disengaging from Ravenpaw and Cardinalpaw respectively.

“Capture them!” Ahasra bellowed at her team. “Don’t let them escape!”

“Yes Ma’am!” Eins, Yiska and Kahri called back and tore off after the escaping criminals.

“We bumped into the travelling group - they reformed searching for Little Birch and warned us about the ambush points,” Ahasra said briskly to Tigerslash, shaking her pelt free of debris picked up from wrestling their attackers. The burly tom listened in surprising silence as his sister gave a professional sounding rundown on what would be happening to the notorious criminals who were apparently wanted for their crimes back in Fade’s Crossing.

For his part, Cardinalpaw moved towards his mentor who was lying eerily still towards the edge of the battle-zone, quickly taking stock of her multitude of wounds. Her fur was thick so he couldn’t see on the surface how many rat bites decorated their pelt though a gash on the leader’s throat left their fur matted and sticky as blood slowly oozed out. He reached out, putting a paw before her muzzle like Spottedholly had taught them.

Nothing.

“Asterdawn’s not breathing!” Cardinapaw called out, too frightened to use her proper title.

The cats behind him froze and Tigerslash came storming up. He shoved Cardinalpaw to the side, placing his own paw in front of Asterdawn’s nose. Presumably not feeling anything either, his fur bristled and he began nudging their leader a few times. Ahasra crept towards them, settling beside Cardinalpaw subdued as the russet tom stepped away from her body.

“...it’s in the paws of the Souls now,” Tigerslash rumbled.

Cardinalpaw’s legs gave out and his sister quickly pressed against him, purring softly in a soothing manner as Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw huddled around him comfortingly. He’d been in the mender’s den when the last funeral was held so he didn’t know the rites and responsibilities. Was he meant to hold a vigil here and now? What about the faction? Asterdawn had been so determined to return home… did he even have time to hold vigil?

His spiraling though were interrupted by a flash of white light.

Cardinalpaw turned his gaze on Asterdawn’s body, his eyes widening as their own glowed with an ethereal light covering any distinguishing details about her eyes. He jumped to his paws with awe as Ahasra gasped in amazement beside her as the marking on her forehead lit up with the same light. He blinked in disbelief watching the outer bolts pull together making one cohesive fan shape and the gash on her throat began knitting itself back together, moons of healing happening in only a few moments. The glow slowly faded from the wound, leaving unmarred skin and matted sticky fur in its place. The petals of the marking returned to their original placements on their brow, the light dying away.

Asterdawn blinked once, twice, then took in a deep breath.

“Akuufaha’s light,” Ahasra gasped getting to her paws herself as Cardinalpaw darted by towards his mentor.

“...Asterdawn?” he prompted hesitantly.

She offered him a tired purr and Cardinalpaw immediately buried his face in her pelt trembling, not the slightest bit bothered by the blood smearing itself on his coat. It would blend in any way. She licked his ears a few times in soothing fashion, nuzzling his cheek before looking up at the group as a whole.

“I’ve lost a life,” she announced somberly. “My fifth yet.”

“Nine lives?” Ahasra asked her brother with amazement on her face earning a nod. “...well I suppose that’s not an old queen’s tale any more then.”

“Seeing is certainly believing,” Cardinalpaw agreed in a low voice.

She shook her head looking to Tigerslash, “I need to find the rest of my squad again so we can detail the raiders. I hope you and your squad make it home safely.”

The molly offered a kind nod and dragged her tongue across Cardinalpaw’s cheek before bounding off in the direction her squad had left, every bit as dangerous and skilled as Cardinalpaw always knew she’d be; focused on her job and thoroughly determined.

Tigerslash watched her leave through suspicious amber eyes before turning his gaze upon Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw.

“You - find burdock root or horsetail,” Tigerslash ordered the gray tom. “And you, find cobwebs. I will remain in case there are stragglers.”

The two cadets darted off as Tigerslash started circling the area, keeping a sharp eye out for more raiders hidden in the brush or dawdling rats that may want to take advantage of Their Storm’s vulnerable state. Cardinalpaw took the opportunity to begin grooming the sticky fur on his mentor’s throat, hurriedly cleaning away the blood. He’d made a decent dent in the matted fur when Jackdawpaw came barreling back with a bundle of plants in his mouth.

“I found horsetail,” Jackdawpaw reported, dropping the plants at Cardinalpaw’s toes. He nudged the plants with visible uncertainty, “I think. This is what Spottedholly said horsetail looks like?”

Cardinalpaw compared the long green stands with the memory of the other herbs Spottedholly had shown him in lessons and nodded decisively. Yes, this was horsetail.

He took a deep breath in, readying himself with a little shake before taking the herbs into his mouth and started to chew. He cringed a little as the bitter taste exploded on his tongue, resisting the urge to gag and risk spitting them out. He really wished they had an herb grinder but alas, the traditional way it was. He poked through his mentor’s fur, wincing as he found more and more bites from rats that managed to burrow into her fur and sink their oversized teeth into her skin. He spread the poultices across the open-wounds, accepting cobwebs from a hobbling Ravenpaw to close the smaller cuts. 

“...your sister seems to be exceptionally trained,” Asterdawn murmured as he treated her wounds. “It’s a shame that the Stormborn lost her.”

“She’s very strong,” Cardinalpaw agreed, pride for his sister flowing through him. Now that he knew Asterdawn wasn’t dying for good, the pride and satisfaction he felt watching his sister fight with as much power and confidence as anyone with normal legs would, warmed him.  He hoped their mother knew how she wielded her power so well, that she obviously had the makings of a squad captain. “I’m glad she’s being allowed to blaze.”

Asterdawn offered him a curious look, clearly wanting to ask more but seemed to decide against it. Their expression turned more serious, pushing themself back to their paws and looking at the patrol. Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw had traded what remained of the horsetail between themselves, treating their own rat-bites while Tigerslash continued to glower at any bush that moved too loudly.

“We must return to our barracks,” Asterdawn announced when it was clear the cadets had finished.

“We should rest,”  Tigerslash insisted, his voice low. “My Storm, you just lost a life.”

“And I’ve wasted enough of our time recovering,” she interrupted, as if dying was merely an inconvenience. “We must return our barracks and quickly.”

Tigerslash observed her with a reluctant expression before finally dipping his head in obedience.

“As you command My Storm.”

| | |

Asterdawn’s brief pause to touch noses with Vahuŕepra only stopped her for a brief moment - and it wasn’t long before the Brastilian was back on her harsh pace. It wasn’t a full-blown sprint, the leader seemingly having learned from their first attempt but she was still having them move like they were being pursued by Taihakida himself. Her anxiety passed through their travelling group - even Jackdawpaw had completely abandoned his joking and dramatic demeanor in favor of pressing on as quickly as he could.

They scrambled down the hill and back into Galespun territory. Tigerslash stopped at the border, opening his mouth to taste the air for a Fennyield patrol.

“You won’t find the Fenns here today,” Asterdawn seethed, stalking over the border without pause.

After that remark, the rest of their patrol moved with a new urgency as the implications of her words sank into them. Sure enough, the acrid stink of the Fennyield grew stronger and stronger the closer they came to Stormborn territory. By the time they may it to The Kirkyard, Cardinalpaw could hardly smell anything but the scent of battle-ready Fennyield legionaries stalking through the place of peace directly for their home.

Tigerslash practically leapt over the border when they arrived, ears pulled back and is teeth bared with menace as fury poured from his body. Trees and brush blurred in Cardinalpaw’s vision as the Sumta led them onto the fasted route back to their barracks. He didn’t even bother to stop when the gorse tunnel - completely torn open, as if the enemy legionaries had gotten sick of being caught and deliberately destroyed it - came into sight. The practice of the forest sprints behind him, he dove in and slid straight into the barracks without dropping speed in the slightest; throwing himself onto the back of the first Fennyield cat he saw.

The tom yelped in surprise as Cardinalpaw sank his claws into his shoulders and back, making his legs buckle. He tried dropping to the ground in the hopes of crushing the ruddy tom beneath his weight but Cardinalpaw had long since learned to recognize that tactic from Jackdawpaw. He easily slid off and out of the way, letting the tom slam himself into the ground un-cushioned. Cardinalpaw left right back onto him with his claws extended, sinking his teeth into any soft skin he could reach making the legionary yowl in pain.

He intended to hold on and shake the tom senseless, but then his mouth began to burn. Cardinalpaw shrieked, jumping back from the tom and shook his head furiously; spitting as if he could simply spit out whatever was torching his mouth. He looked up at the Fennyield legionary, a dark miasma cloaked close to his pelt.

Elanki, Cardinalpaw thought disdainfully. Two can play at that game.

The tabby warrior lunged at him once more, dark energy crawling up his body and condensing in his teeth. Cardinalpaw danced by him, drawing on his own makai. His always felt different than the energy of the empire - something he put down to his origins. He felt heat flash through his body, rushing through his muscles; becoming jumpy and electric.

Power exploded through his mouth, channeling into his teeth. Without hesitation, he whipped around snapped at the tom's lashing tail as he missed the mark on Cardinalpaw’s person. Unlike the other times he’s tried this technique in spars from the Games where his teeth merely clicked off of the scales, his teeth sank deep into the other’s tail. The Fennyield cat shrieked in agony and swung his heavy tail in an attempt to dislodge him. Cardinalpaw’s grip suffered but so did the enemy’s tail, his elanki jumped off leaving small burns and scars down the enemy’s tail.

Cardinalpaw was finally tossed off, rolling over then landing on his paws once more watching his enemy panting and glowering at him. He was honestly impressed when - instead of retreating like the ruddy tom wasn’t afraid to admit he would’ve - the legionary snarled and attacked once more, this time encasing his own claws in the same stinging miasma of Fennyield elanki. Blood dribbled into his face, likely blinding him so Cardinalpaw merely jumped to the side letting him through himself into the thorned bushes that lined the barracks. 

Cardinalpaw took the opportunity for what it was, springing on the trapped tom as he tried to extract himself from the thorns and branches. He raked his claws through his fur, clawing away at his soft underbelly and flanks until the legionary finally released a cry of surrendered. Cardinalpaw none-too-gently ripped him from the thorns to free him, stepping back to allow the tom to retreat from the clearing with his wounded tail between his legs.

The ruddy tom gave a shake of his head trying to clear his mind, straightening up to see where he was needed next. The wounds from the raider ambush combined with the latest ones acquired from the battle were finally beginning to sting - especially since he hadn’t applied anything to his own wounds. 

A flash of brown caught his eye and he turned his head in time to see the burly form of Clawedears standing over a still body, clawing his way into the nursery.

“The cubs-!” he tried to call out in warning but was slammed to the ground by a powerful looking tortoiseshell jack. He forced himself to go limp in their mouth, as if shocked by the attack then surged up the second that they relaxed their grip. He slammed into their in response, smashing his fully extended claws down on their chest earning a faint creaking sound. The jack screeched in pain but Cardinalpaw leapt from them, darting towards the nursery worriedly.

He skidded to a half in relief at the sight of Clawedears retreating with a new set of facial scars to his name and a completely shredded right ear as Nettleflower snarled aggressively in his direction. She stood defensively in the entrance to the nursery, scooping up a frightened looking Lynx and pushing her back into the nursery behind her, offering a sharp nod to Cardinalpaw.

It seemed that was the deciding blow for the invaders, seeing their fearless lieutenant retreating, the rest of the legionaries were quick to follow suit. The Stormborn cats released a victorious cry, several of them chasing their retreating enemies for good measure. Cardinalpaw particularly enjoyed sending a powerful swipe at the limping form of Scorchedmaw, the arrogant tom’s ears mauled and his pelt shredded as he bid a hasty retreat.

He shook his head again as Brindlewing emerged from the nursery, the young molly sporting a newly torn right ear and a cut lip.

“The cubs are safe,” the head sitter announced, drawing a paw across the open wound. “Thanks to Nettleflower - Clawedears tried to sneak in while I was fighting off Jaggedstump. Nettleflower took care of him - we’ve lost Roselyric though.”

Cardinalpaw caught a wince from Dappledfawn as she moved forward, nudging the still form of her friend’s body sadly.

“She gave as good as she got,” Nettleflower said. “Clawedears was limping before he even got to me.”

The old calico cracked a small smile in response, nodding gratefully towards the grouchy molly in thanks for the reassurance. Spottedholly had emerged from her den the second she heard the triumphant yowling and was racing between the legionaries and cadets alike, applying poultices to everyone she could. He started to move towards her only to be nearly knocked to the ground by a gray blur.

Jackdawpaw, he wondered, turning to follow his friend deeper into the crowd only to stop cold at the sight of glossy golden fur laying at his paws, completely and utterly still.

“Lionbelly,” he whispered to himself, sinking down beside his wailing best friend. Ravenpaw quickly joined them on the other side of their friend, pressing against his trembling body. They worked together drawing their tongues across their friend’s back as Frostfang came pushing her way to the inner-circle, her expression completely distraught.

“Sunny…” she said in a choked voice, turning to bury her face in the fur of Daisyflower, crouched beside her brother in mourning.

Nadderpelt and Volewhisker picked their way through the crowd, murmuring their thanks to Ravenpaw and Cardinalpaw as they moved closer to their son themselves. Cardinalpaw released a gentle sigh and tilted his head towards the slowly brightening night sky.

| | |

Seeing Jackdawpaw so down was like living in a nightmare. His face was blank and he moved around mechanically when prodded, as if he was merely a leaf being dragged by a stream. It had taken both of his parents to coax him into the starmender’s den, the thick furred tom barely even flinching when stinging poultices were applied to his wounds. It was like his inner fire had been near completely smothered, the cadet’s flame struggling against the winds raging around him. As soon as he retreated, he rejoined the circle of cats gathered around Lionbelly’s still body.

The Empire made death look peaceful.

The first time a proper vigil had been held, Cardinalpaw had a concussion and was laid up in the starmender’s den; barely able to even blink without causing himself pain. This time, he was witness to the full process. Spottedholly had enlisted the help of the elders - specifically the retirees - to crush together vibrantly colored berries into a triad of bowls of paint. They painted the sigil of Sunsoul upon his brow; a Stormborn bolt as its background so that he would be welcomed into the Starland’s as a member of the Stormborn.

His beautiful golden coat had been groomed into pristine appearance once more, his mane strewn with forest-mint and lavender flowers. Even his wounds had been dressed up, the smaller ones covered by his fur and the larger ones decorated with more flowers. 

It was very different from the death-ceremony he attended for his own father - no fire to burn him in and therefore, no ashes to scatter in the winds and over his kin so that they may be connected even in death. Different but no less beautiful.

The moon was half-way to setting when Asterdawn climbed the Highrock, overlooking their faction with gentle, sad eyes.

“Lionbelly was an amazing lieutenant,” she began, her voice audibly weighed down by the pain of replacing her old friend. “He was a courageous cat who saw potential in everyone from the smallest cub to the most accomplished legionary. He died as he lived, defending those in need. He was a wise and kind tom, taken from us before his time. I’m sure he would’ve made a fine leader in my stead though the Souls have seen it fit to welcome him into the stars - with his spirit still lingering before us, I hope he approves of this choice…”

The faction began glancing around exchanging curious expressions as to the identity of the nest lieutenant. Cardinalpaw noticed not an insignificant number of cats - Longtail, Pricklestripe, Speckletail and Elkear - all looking expectantly at Tigerslash. While a few found their eyes on Thrushheart. But Cardinalpaw followed the masses to the one tom Asterdawn was watching.

“Callastorm, are you willing to take on the position of lieutenant? And all of the responsibilities you will hold?”

The powerful white tom raised his head evenly, “It would be an honor to serve this faction as their voice and lieutenant.”

The faction immediately burst into cheers, chanting Callastorm’s name to the fading stars in the sky, letting Lionbelly know of his successor.

“He’s furious,” Cardinalpaw heard Ravenpaw mutter.

He turned his head, slightly confused by the comment before following the frightened black tom’s gaze towards Tigerslash; waiting at the very edge of the clearing. The russet tom’s ears had pulled back in annoyance, his claws sunk into the earth though he seemed to be trying furiously to keep a straight face. Longtail and Pricklestripe seemed to be soothing him, occasionally shooting annoyed looks in the direction of Callastorm and Asterdawn.

“I don’t know why,” Cardinalpaw murmured back. “Callastorm’s already trained Titfeather and now he’s training Chaffinchpaw. Tigerslash has never trained a cadet - he’s not allowed to be lieutenant.”

“Yeah well… Tigerslash has wanted to be lieutenant since he was a cadet himself. His father was Pineheart.”

“Oh, the Brastilian after the Mad Star,” Cardinalpaw blinked, glancing towards the burly tom again. If his own father had been leader once, he supposes it made sense that the russet tabby may have aspirations of following in his pawsteps and taking on the same role. “He’s done a lot of good lately. Daisyflower’s cubs will be six moons next moon and Frostfang’s are only three moons away themselves.”

“I’d hate to be his cadet,” Ravenpaw mumbled. “He’s going to be in a bad mood for moons - he’ll probably work his poor cadet to death trying to catch up with Callastorm. Still, he should’ve known the Souls would never reward a murderer.”

Cardinalpaw jolted, his head snapping up at his friend.

“Murderers?”

Ravenpaw’s went wide - clearly he hadn’t meant for the comment to slip out in his agitated rambling. The fur on his spine slowly bristling.

“I-I mean he’s always really rough in battles,” he stammered. “That’s why he hasn’t gotten a cadet yet. He’s probably killed at least one cat by now. By accident.”

“... but you weren’t referring to that…”

Instead of retorting, Ravenpaw leapt to his paws; sprinting towards the cadet’s den with his tail between his legs. Cardinalpaw was left crouched in place, frozen in confusion. Unbidden, the story Ravenpaw told the Fennyield cadets came back to mind; the questions that had swirled through his tired mind once more clawing their way to the forefront.

Ravenpaw, what aren’t you telling us?

----

Allegiances | Previous | Next | First

[strelles-universe]

Hey Magpiestar, what if I told you that in another universe you called Tigerstar a piece of shit in front of all the clans after he implied that you were senile.

"Good for him!" Deadfoot crowed immediately over the cheers from the Windspun.

Magpiestar adopted an equally satisfied expression, his long tail flicking smugly, "I'm certain I could've remained more professional-"

"He deserved it," Deadfoot insisted.

"-but that other me must've been at the end of his rope," the Vendus finished with a smirk.

[strelles-universe]

Strike the Match - Prologue: The Sign

The late night moon shone brightly overhead, brilliant silver bands peaking through the small gaps between the leaves in the trees casting pale shadows on the forest floor. The leaves rustled as the warm wind breezed through them, nocturnal critters scampering along the branches dislodging twigs as they went. A small mouse stiffened by the twisting roots of one of many oak-trees that made up the forest, straightening up in the night. The seed it clutched tightly in its palms dropped as it sniffed the air, ears twitching for the faintest of sounds. Though it saw nothing, the creature didn’t trust the silence; darting off into the brush - there would be other nights to forage.

The tortoiseshell tom tensed only a tail away from where the mouse had been, resisting the urge to chase it.

That’s not why we’re here, he reminded himself, sinking his claws into the churned up dirt beneath his paws. This was a stakeout not a hunting patrol.

“Mottletail.”

He turned his head to meet the pale green eyes of his factionmate, approaching him with a serious air that Mottletail always felt strange seeing on him. He flicked his tail, inviting the brown tom to move closer and crouch beside him.

“Thrushheart,” Mottletail murmured, careful not to raise his voice. “You seem concerned?”

The tom gave a terse nod, not quite looking at him as he fixed his gaze beyond the bushes, “It’s not like the Shorerisen to be sneaky with their arrogance. When they take claimed territory, they usually crow about it from the peaks of the mountains - they don’t mark all over our territory in the dead of night.”

This isn’t The Styrman’s style, Mottletail agreed grimly to himself. The powerful Shorerisen leader took pride in the strength of his legionaries and preferred small but visible skirmishes on the border between legionaries - especially ones of higher ranks - to claim larger amounts of territory. This whole strategy felt more like a Fennyield move.

“The Shorerisen have always been obsessed over The Suncairn,” Mottletail mewed, though he knew it didn’t go far enough to explain the flagrant trespassing that had been occurring. “Still, that’s why Our Storm has us out here. If The Styrman has really changed his ways, we must be alert.”

“I can’t believe they still want the Suncairn so badly after all this time,” Thrushheart grumbled. “Riversoul saw that the Stormborn needed more territory to survive - and they try to steal it back for lounging? ”

“Who knows what goes on in those otter-skulls,” Mottletail said, with a dismissive flick of his tail. “The Suncairn will probably always be something the Stormborn and the Shorerisen argue about.”

“Souls I hope not,” Thrushheart said half-heartedly.

Mottletail flicked his tail, sending his factionmate to check on the rest of their patrol. He’d chosen a combination of swift and powerful legionaries - Cedarfur and the newly named Longtail would be difficult to be grabbed if it came to a fight and Tigerslash was always a good guard to have on paw. The legionary could be gruff but his size and dedication to the Stormborn’s defense had most of their enemies running scared when they saw him.

Mottletail opened his mouth, attempting to sort the distinct oily scent that the Shorerisen had smeared all over their border from a fresher trail that would identify an approaching patrol. He wrinkled his nose at the same time that he spotted Tigerslash’s hackles rising

Shorerisen, he thinks furiously to himself; eyes locking on the approaching cats that emerged from the river. Their bodies were shimmering, the oily coats that were distinct to the Shorerisen’s waterproof coats turning silver in the light; finned tails lashing low near the ground. He bared his teeth in angered frustration even as he flicked his tail out to command his patrol from darting out immediately.

He swiveled his ears forward as the patrol moved closer and closer, passing definitively into Stormborn territory on the rocks closest to their own forest. Mottletail immediately counted five cats - a proper patrol’s worth of cats.

“Hurry up,” one of the cats snapped, tail lashing in a visible sign of anxiousness. His ears twisted about, likely trying to decipher if there was a patrol nearby as he watched the smaller cat - an cadet, Mottletail concluded - pick up the pace to catch up.

“I’m coming,” the cadet complained, bouncing forward. She must’ve been fresh - Mottletail didn’t recognize her from any Peace-Gather and she was still stumbling over her tail, not yet having mastered maintaining the distance that her seniors had. “Why are we running from Thunders anyway?”

“We’re not running from them Emberpaw,” the tom scolded her as he started marking the edge of The Suncairn. “But we have to make a statement. Every time the Stormborn sniffs at these rocks, they should smell the Shorerisen.”

“Then why are we trying to avoid their night patrol?”

“We want to make a statement, not cause trouble for Our Shore,” the older cat informed. “If we start a fight, he’ll be more upset about relations with those gill-less sardines than the fact that we reclaimed the territory rightfully ours.”

Mottletail had heard enough. He drew his patrol’s attention and motioned towards his head, then Tigerslash. Afterward, he lowered his tail to the ground in a wide sweep.

Tigerslash gave a firm nod, nudging both Longtail and Cedarfur before slinking off into the brush; beginning to circle wide with the intent of getting behind the small Shorerisen patrol. On his own side, Thrushheart moved to cover one of the easier to escape through gaps while Mottletail went the opposite way; completely encasing the Shorerisen patrol in a circle of cats.

“Emberpaw?” one of the Shorerisen cats prompted when the cadet stopped marking, looking intently at one of the bushes. “What’s wrong?”

Mottletail followed her gaze to the glinting of amber eyes. 

The cadet’s eyes went wide and she opened her mouth-

“Stormborn, attack!” Mottletail called immediately and had the pleasure of watching Tigerslash leap from the bushes and slam one of the slams to the ground with a harsh thump.

Mottletail slipped out next, watching Cedarfur slink around Tigerslash to grab Emberpaw by the scruff and bodily toss the cadet a few tails from the battle. The cadet smacked into the ground with a gasp of shock, struggling to her paws even as Cedarfur whipped around to team up with Longtail in shredding the foolish golden-furred molly who tried to retreat deeper into the woods.

Mottletail targeted the tom who’d done most of the talking, assuming that he was the leader of this little patrol. He slammed into him with all his might - he might not be the largest cat in the Stormborn, but the muscles primed for hunting in the thick brush were still powerful enough to knock the larger tom to the ground. The tabby panicked, bucking harshly beneath him; pulling his ears back against his head hissing violently at the attacking Thunder cat. 

Mottletail responded by lashing out, slicing through the delicate; soft skin of the tom’s ears, tearing it all the way down to the base. It would probably heal eventually, but Mottletail was satisfied in knowing he’d always have a scar.

He leaned in, snapping his teeth at the tom’s muzzle making him flinch beneath him at the ‘clack’ his teeth made connecting in empty air.

“This is Stormborn territory,” Mottletail hissed at him, tail lashing. “And any further trespassing from the Shorerisen will be met with severe consequences.”

He emphasized his words by sinking his claws into the tom’s shoulder, making him yowl in pain and try batting him off again. Mottletail released the trespasser, watching as the tabby staggered to his paws; slightly hindered by the injury to his shoulders. He shook it off, darting directly towards the river with his tail tucked beneath his legs in defeat. Mottletail’s feeling of victory only lasted a moment when the pained and panicked shrieking came from behind him. He whirled immediately, ready to defend his factionmate only to realize that Tigerslash was holding down the cadet - Emberpaw - and shredding the soft skin of the cub’s belly even as she cried out in surrender.

“Tigerslash!” Mottletail yowled in disbelief, sprinting over immediately. He slammed into the larger tom as hard as he could and though Mottletail was only half the tabby legionary’s size, he stepped aside. He nudged the cadet who was now panting in pain, struggling to regain the strength to stand. “What are you doing?!”

“Sending a message,” the tabby legionary informed, baring his large teeth at the cadet; making her flinch. “She won’t dare trespass on our territory again.”

“She’s an cadet,” Mottletail snapped at him, lashing his tail angrily.

He grabbed the cadet by her scruff, careful of his tusks, half-dragging her to her paws. He watched cautiously to ensure she could stand and when he confirmed that she could, he allowed her to lean on him; walking her limping towards the river. The cat he could only assume was her mentor was waiting, bleeding and half his pelt was probably still in Cedarfur and Longtail’s claws but loyally keeping an eye out for his cadet.

He gasped in horror at the state of his cadet, Emberpaw moving from Mottletail to stagger her way towards the safer scent.

“Stay out of our territory,” Mottletail commanded, doing his best to conceal the very real worry he felt for the cadet. He’d ask about her medical state another time - maybe during a Peace-Gather or get his sister to inquire but now was a time that Mottletail had to show confidence and power. The Shorerisen tom nodded curtly, grasping his cadet by the scruff and slunk into the river.

Mottletail waited until mentor and cadet had swum safely across, rejoining the rest of their patrol to turn back to his own group. He crossed the stones to meet eyes with Tigerslash, his fur still bristled along his spine angrily. It took a long moment before Tigerslash broke eye-contact; amber eyes snapping to the ground.

Mottletail flicked his tail in satisfaction - good, the legionary knew this would be reported straight to Asterdawn. He glanced at the waning moonlight - though waiting for the patrol had felt like watching tar flow, the battle had been quick. If they hurried, they’d beat the blue hour birds.

“Let’s head home Stormborn.”

| | |

“Ow,” Thrushheart hissed, flattening his ears against his head in pain.

Spottedholly flicked her tail, chuckling at his dramatics, “Don’t get dragged through a bracken bush next time.”

“I wasn’t dragged,” Thrushheart protested, though his whiskers were twitching with amusement. “I was doing the dragging.”

“Then maybe you should stay out of bracken bushes altogether, prickle-pelt.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Thrushheart purred.

Spottedholly mentally thanked her late mentor for the genius idea to use catchweed on legionaries who were particularly prone to anxious movement as she watched Thrushheart shuffle around, almost immediately rubbing away the poultice she’d painstakingly applied. She cast a quick glance over the antsy Tigerslash, taking stock of everything she’d need. There was a cut on his nose - a single one rather than the multiple gouges that would come from a claw wound to match three long-faded scars already present, likely something from a bush rather than an attacker. His right ear was torn as well - she’d need cobwebs to treat that.

Dock, cobwebs and maybe crushed poppies, Spottedholly mused to herself as she continued to inspect the russet tom. His pelt was thick and ruffled though - she was fairly certain that he’d escaped the battle mostly unscathed but she’d need a closer look to be sure.

She finished off one last poultice on Thrushheart, rubbed into his flank before nudging him.

“Alright, you’re free to go Thrushheart,” Spottedholly said. “Most of your wounds are minor but you should stay off that front leg for a few days. No dawn patrols.”

“You’ll never hear me complaining about less dawn patrol,” Thrushheart grinned, rising to his paws. Spottedholly was pleased to see that he obediently kept his right leg elevated closer to his chest, refraining from putting weight on it immediately after her warning. If only all of her patients could be so sensible.

When Thrushheart was clear, Tigerslash stood; reluctantly moving into his place to be treated. Spottedholly started quickly - the russet tom hated being in the medic’s den for any stretch of time (something she attributed to his early kit-hood) and always got fussy when his treatment stretched on though he knew better than to run. Her faction knew that though she now dealt in honey and herbs, she could still wrestle with the best of the guards.

She quickly darted to the corner of the medic’s den where the cobwebs were kept. She ignored the mildly irritated buzzing from her silkspinner perched a bit higher up on the wall from her and wrapped some around her paw. She quickly wobbled her back to the antsy legionary pawing the ground impatiently. 

She quickly patched up the small tear in his ear, pressing the cobweb along the edge of the cut with a critical eye. It was a clean cut - it’ll probably seal back up good as new without even a scar to tell the story. Then she moved onto pressing the remainder of the cobweb into the cut on his muzzle, the bleeding had already stopped, and the russet legionary had taken the time to try cleaning the area as best as he could while Spottedholly treated Thrushheart making her job easier. The legionary hissed softly as she applied pressure to the cut, careful to stretch it from end to end.

Now this one will scar, Spottedholly noted.

Tigerslash would likely be pleased to hear that.

Just as she moved onto checking his pelt for injuries buried under his thick mass of fur, her ears pricked at the sound of a cat’s paws on the soft ground.

She turned her head at the same time that Thrushheart darted forward tail high and feathers rustling with delight.

“Hello Aster,” he purred, bumping his head against the larger molly’s shoulder.

The powerful molly purred back, pressing her muzzle to his cheek fondly, “Hello Thrushheart, how did the stakeout go?”

Thrushheart titled his head as he straightened up, “Didn’t Mottletail give you a report?”

“He did,” Asterdawn agreed, calmly sitting by her old friend. “But I would like to hear from everyone who’d been involved. I’ve already spoken to Longtail.”

Spottedholly kept her ears pricked even as she performed her duties while Thrushheart told her his perspective of the stakeout. Her beetle-brained brother had dodged her attempts to heal him, insisting that she care for his factionmates first before darting off to report to Asterdawn as her lieutenant so she’d learned nothing of the scuffle. She found two thin cuts beneath Tigerslash’s fur - shallow enough that they’d already begun to scab over so she’d just be offering a well-crushed comfrey poultice for the itching to prevent him from opening a worse wound from scratching.

She quietly suggested he visit Treesoul’s Ravine to shorten his lengthy claws half-heartedly, unsurprised when he once again denied such a choice.

He’s so proud of those, she thinks to herself exasperatedly. One of these days he was going to pull a claw trying to cross thick brush and he’d have no one to blame but himself. She moved onto the last legionary waiting patiently to be treated in Cedarfur, the dusky molly’s furious licking of certain spots already telling her where to focus.

Cedarfur recited her version of events when prompted by Asterdawn - keeping the tale short and to the point as usual where Thrushheart had occasionally dragged. She was just sending the young legionary on her way - Cedarfur having yawned several times - when Tigerslash finally wrapped up his own, triumphant retelling of the patrol.

Ah, no wonder she wanted everyone’s word, Spottedholly mused based on the dramatic difference between the tales.

Asterdawn was silent for a long moment, digesting the various sides of the patrol. The tip of her tail twitched slowly as she thought before she finally lifted her gaze to Tigerslash, an expression of disappointment so clear the tabby legionary flinched.

“I was hoping that you had learned to control yourself Tigerslash,” Asterdawn admonished him. “The aggression you showed towards that cadet was unnecessary and an act that Littlesoul certainly frowns upon.”

Tigerslash shrank a little at the scolding tone, ears pulling back against his head.

“Until you’ve learned to control your strength, you will not have a cadet.”

“What?” Tigerslash gasped and Spottedholly winced.

It was no secret that Tigerslash had been seeking to train a cat of his own - especially after Pricklestripe (a legionary trained by his same mentor) had already received and trained Longtail. Spottedholly had particularly noticed his eyes on one of the cubs from the late Robinwing’s litter; Wren - he’d even been caught giving special attention to the eager tom when he shadowed the training hollow. It was obvious that he wanted to train one of Longtail’s siblings, an effort to catch up with Pricklestripe.

If Asterdawn had wanted the tabby legionary’s attention, she certainly had it.

“If you cannot demonstrate self-control against an enemy cadet, why would I grant you one of your own?” Asterdawn asked sternly. “That cadet would look to you for guidance, for assurance and take example from your behavior. I will not have a squad of legionaries with no consciousness of their strength being sent into battle. Maybe when the next round of cadets are ready, we will revisit the concept of your mentorship but for now; your request is denied Tigerslash and I will be looking elsewhere.”

Tigerslash stared at her, is if hoping she’d change her mind; that maybe the scolding would be the full extent of the punishment, but Asterdawn’s expression did not change. When he realized her decision was final, he looked at his paws, sinking his overly long claws into the earth and gouged a series of scars into the earthy floor in silence.

Spottedholly sympathized but made no effort to comfort him - both because based on the descriptions of the cadet, the scolding was justified and because Tigerslash hated being given attention directly after being told off. 

“Still… these reports worry me,” Asterdawn mused. “It sounds like Stormdrift is unaware of his legionaries’ actions.”

She turned her attention to Spottedholly.

“Have you seen any omens or signs of a civil war?” her leader inquired. “Any signs that our faction will be dragged into it?”

Spottedholly shook her head, “No, the stars have remained quiet lately.”

Though even as she spoke, a chill ran up her spine; entering her body and running down her spine like the tip of a claw tracing the bone. She tried to open her mouth to speak to Asterdawn and alert her to what was happening but she noted that her leader had seized up as well. Spottedholly blinked slowly at the slight fear in Asterdawn’s eyes, a twinge of unnecessary guilt running through her at being unable to sooth her before she let The Stars speak.

| | |

Asterdawn watched, tensed and bristled as Spottedholly pupils seemed to expand and grow; encompassing her eyes so they turned completely black. The dark sockets slowly filled with twinkling lights, not unlike the midnight sky becoming dotted with stars.  

She stepped back, able to move, but her gaze was still locked facing forward; no matter how she tried to turn her head, she could only look up and down at most. Something she almost wished she couldn’t do as heat lashed at her back, the corners of her eyes filled with orange and red. Asterdawn coughed, the smell of smoke flowing down her throat, smothering her breath and sinking her claws into the earth. She could feel the heat even through the thick plume that guarded her throat, clawing its way through her.  Her eyes stung, becoming glossy and full of pain.

She cried out as pain sliced through her shoulders, exhaustion racing through her; the overwhelming sensation appearing to break whatever hold was freezing her into place allowing her to drop to the ground in a crouch. She whimpered as the white paws of Spottedholly filled her gaze, the medic dropping to crouch before her; eyes still filled with stars.

The mender smiled as The Stars spoke through her with the voices of many, “A little flame it will be, a mere ember on the grass. If nurtured it will grow, flamed by wind and brightened in shadow it will braise the water that seeks to smother it - carry it carefully, for the blaze of this fire will save your faction.”

| | |

“Are you alright?” Mottletail fretted while Spottedholly lapped as much water as she could from her moss. She resisted the urge to nip at him - she understood. She’d woken up, her face smeared in the dirt of her den with her brother frantically prodding her while Thrushheart circled Asterdawn in similar distress. Seeing omens was one thing but having The Stars speak through a cat - or directly to a cat - was thoroughly alarming and deeply unsettling to any who witness it.

“I’m fine Mottletail,” she murmured. “Just tired. I’ve only been Spoken through once before.”

“The blaze of this fire will save your faction,” Thrushheart repeated what Asterdawn had told him, wrapping his tail around his friend to the best of his ability. “I think Riversoul’s gaze fell on other things before he finished the prophecy.”

“How could fire save our faction?” Mottletail asked skeptically.

“The Fire is likely not an actual flame,” Spottedholly said. “It’s likely a cat who is like a flame. That or a fire-spirit.”

“If that’s true, who is the fire?”

Spottedholly opened her mouth with the intent to brainstorm only to be interrupted.

“You already know who the fire is,” Tigerslash claimed, dropping the collection of prey he’d brought in. The legionary had apparently scampered off the second Spottedholly’s prophecy had started, the convulsions and visibly pained clawing at the ground having alarmed the powerful legionary - not that he showed any sign of that fear now, standing tall as the Ancients with all the pride of one too. “I was there when you were Spoken through the first time! Thistleclaw was a mad-hound near the end of his life but even he agrees that my pelt is that of a flame’s.”

“You shouldn’t believe anything Thistleclaw had to say,” Spottedholly hissed, hostility entering her voice at the reminder of that tom. “There are plenty of russet cats in the forest Tigerslash - the omen mentioned Wind and Shadows - for all we know, the cat is from a different faction.”

Tigerslash scoffed, “If the Stormborn is to be saved, it will be with our own paws not by some filthy outsider. If Fennyield ever offered help, I’d be highly suspicious.”

“If the Stormborn is in enough danger that Fennyield is offering help, we’re probably in no position to turn them away,” Spottedholly responded dryly.

“If I am not the fire, why was I born with the stripes and claws of the Ancient Prides,” he challenged. “Why was it I alone that survived of my litter after maam’s many tragedies?”

“I don’t claim to know everything Tigerslash-”

“Clearly because the Souls could not make it more obvious that I am the fire,” Tigerslash declared. “I will stand between the Stormborn and the anukasewa that attack our faction and you will see that you were wrong!”

Spottedholly sighed aloud as the russet tom turned sharply, storming from the overflow den; his thick tail sweeping the ground and spraying the cats curled together with dust and small rocks. She blinked slowly as the red light of the dawn-sun touched his coat, casting a heavy dark shadow on the burly tom and turned his red coat bloody.

She opened her eyes slowly.

A large red tom dripped from blood, standing atop a mound of wailing; sobbing bones, speckled with pelts. He called for others to follow him, to join the Chosen One as he’d lead them to salvation. He stamped harder, the shadows made of blood pulling themself from the ground and stalking towards the collection of nondescript cats, surrounding them.

A smaller cat, the same red was formed with flame; scorching the ground with every step as cats of ash back him; baring their teeth flicking with fire.

The two cats leapt at each other as blood and fire flashed in her eyes, blinding her and-

Spottedholly opened her eyes, ignoring the worried looks of the cats around her.

I can’t stop your destiny Tigerslash, she thought to herself sadly. But I wish I could.

---

Clan Translations

Maam | Mother

Anukasewa | Tainted/Sickly Being, the undesirable (lit. sick spirit)

-

Pre-Story Allegiances || Next

[strelles-universe]

Wow…. Tigerclaw is really getting around huh?

lmao yeah - he's the less friendly version of Jake in Strelles

[strelles-universe]

ENCOURAGE?! TIGERCLAW YOU DONT DESERVE YOUR STAR NAME

He basically name-dropped poor Maluri's location to Havoc to secure his at least temporary co-operation

RIP Maluri

[strelles-universe]

Canon reason why Tigerstar didn't go to the monkeys is they threw shit at him (Source: Me, someone who volunteered at the zoo and saw how the monkeys treated their keepers)

Lmfao I can see it - monkeys are pretty asshol-ish XD Especially since these guys are specifically squirrel monkeys

(In universe, it's because the monkeys live either in the mountains or beyond them and that's a multi-moon journey XD)

[strelles-universe]

Strike the Match - Chapter 12: Ravenpaw's Story

“Excellent Cardinalpaw - again!”

Cardinalpaw snarled his determination, narrowing his eyes as Asterdawn launched herself at him again. He dove forward, ducking beneath the mass of her body and lashed out with the combined force of his hindpaws and as much of his tail as he could. He was still the leanest of his faction, lacking the sheer bulk and heft that Stormborn cats had but he wasn’t a tiny cadet anymore either. Now his blows packed as much of a punch as everyone else in his faction and he watched his mentor go crashing into the ground on her side, rolling smoothly to their paws in turn.

“Well done,” they praised. “Now, elanki.”

Cardinalpaw promptly drew on his makai, letting the energy flow through him; invigorating his somewhat tired body. It was draining in a way - he’d learned swiftly that though they were very similar, makai and elanki were different forces with different focals. Elanki was heavily combat based, it was always primed and ready for action from what he observed. Even his fellow cadets had less trouble than he did. Makai was The Shepherd’s Tool - it wasn’t meant for fighting and combat. It was better for calming others down, offering a soothing sensation of warmth or coziness. If it really came down to it, it was easier to just ignite the makai, creating brief blasts of fire but active channeling long-term tended to leave him drained.

Still, the expression of pride on his mentor’s face made him puff up with self-satisfaction.

So he charged up the best that he could, channeling it through his teeth - far faster than it took during the last battle - launching himself at a branch intending to snap it with his own teeth.

Ever since Vahuŕepra had ushered off Lionbelly beyond the Sky, the barracks had been thrown into overdrive. Not even declared by Asterdawn herself, the faction had begun to train themselves into the dirt. In the wake of Lionbelly’s death, Jackdawpaw had been reassigned to Swallowflail; the legionary that the golden-furred tom trained before Jackdawpaw. Lionbelly’s entire family had taken three days to grieve and recover, with Jackdawpaw being brought back into training on half-days; easing him back into practice without causing him too much strife. Chaffinchpaw and Wrenpaw were a big help - remembering how it felt to lose Mottletail, they were with the gray tom every step of the way as he recovered.

Callastorm for his part was adjusting well to being the new lieutenant - even before Lionbelly had passed, many cats had gone to him for advice. When Lionbelly wasn’t around, it was Callastorm prompted for emergency patrols and advice. Really the Sumta had only given official authority to the former rank head’s words. Thruhspelt stepped up, unanimously elected by the remaining hunters as the latest rank head and on flowed the faction.

For his part, Tigerslash appeared positively beside himself over the wrongdoing committed against the Stormborn. When Lionbelly had been promoted, the russet tabby had stepped easily into the position as the faction’s Guard Head and picked up where the golden tom had left off. With the death of his former denmate and friend, Tigerslash appeared to have gone into over-drive. Asterdawn hadn’t needed to say a word - the Guard Head had already assigned patrols to take place in-between the dawn and dusk patrols on the Fennyield border.

“It’s clear those marshlanders have eyes on our faction,” Cardinalpaw had heard him claim to the guards, tail lashing with fury as he looked upon them. “I refuse to believe it was simple coincidence that the day Our Storm takes to the Moon’s Fang for answers, the Fennyield just happen to attack.”

“It sounds suspicious,” Longtail had piped up, earning agreeing murmurs from the guards.

“I want that border watched constantly,” Tigerslash declared firmly. “There is a trespasser in our territory, watching us!”

“What about the Fenns already here?” Pricklestripe had spat, glowering in the direction of the nursery where Nettleflower had been permitted to stay after her heroic actions.

“The Fenn runaways fought on our side - Clawedears was going to slaughter her like Roselyric, Daisyflower saw it herself,” the braided tom said in a tone that brokered no argument. His interest in the powerful former guard was well-known and to Cardinalpaw’s knowledge, the Guard Head would hear nothing negative about the molly. “No, it’s not the Fenns here. Not the obvious ones.”

With that, the guards had broken apart to begin guarding their borders like blinking would be practically inviting the Fennyield to invade them. Each border patrol had been given explicit orders to mark even blade of grass twice and cover every enemy faction scent thoroughly enough to smother it.

The massive tabby had even tried to lobby for Callastorm instating a specific role to guard Asterdawn - a rotating shift to keep their leader as safe as they could possibly be in the midst of a potentially brewing war. He was shot down by Callastorm alongside the other rank heads - The Brastilian had to look as strong and unaffected by the Fenns or they’d risk more attacks. 

Cardinalpaw hopes that the tom was at least reassured by how seriously Asterdawn was taking the entire situation. Whatever urgent warning Asterdawn had received at the Moon’s Fang hadn’t ended with just the cowardly attack on the barracks, there was a faraway look in her eyes every time they glanced towards the Fennyield border and their efforts for it redoubled. If he’d thought he was being drilled before, Cardinalpaw was reasonably sure he could an entire ambush on his own by this point. Asterdawn always had him awake, running through battle techniques and elanki from sunhigh to sundown with miscellaneous hunting patrols and assessments sprinkled through it.

Everything was an opportunity to learn - it had gotten to the point where he’d be sent off on a hunting mission and randomly pounced upon by his mentor; made to fend her off until she deemed his combat techniques decent. Lazy mornings felt like a figment of his imagination - he was up and moving from the moment he opened his eyes to the moment he fell asleep.

Spottedholly had stepped in a few times, ordering mentor and cadet alike to rest and recover before they collapsed from exhaustion or did permanent damage to their own bodies. Cardinalpaw had ruefully become rather skilled at the muscle-salves meant to soothe the aching, stinging pain that came from constant use.

Chaffinchpaw and Ravenpaw - may the Sky Kindlers and the Souls grace them both will all the finest things in life - had taken to changing his nest for him every once in a while, lacing the moss with feathers. It made the nights that he staggered into the cadet’s den, eyes half-closed with exhaustion before he flopped down into his nest, tail and legs hanging outside of his nest less painful and more relaxing. 

Despite his exhaustion and his busy days however, Cardinalpaw had been infected with his mentor’s determination for hard-work. It was all worth it - he’d come a long way from when he’d first joined the Empire, having only just begun dabbling into a more active life as an heir. Now his muscles were stronger, more like his battle-hardened mother than a young cub. He’d retained his softer features - his round face, rounded pinna and tapered muzzle - but now his body held a hidden strength. 

Wrenpaw certainly hadn’t been expecting to be bucked right from his back then swatted directly in the face by his powerful tail in the last sparring assessment, sending him crashing to the ground in a dazed fashion. And Chaffinchpaw had coughed furiously when he managed to get her fiercely in the throat before pinning her, bringing their score to an even 10-10 so truly, Cardinalpaw couldn’t complain. 

Not when he wasn’t the only being run ragged after all.

Cardinalpaw flexed his claws, taking a breath as he channeled his makai again, this time towards his paws.

Clawedears’ brutal attack on the nursery and the resulting death of Roselyric placed a terrible weight in the stomach of everyone. Quietpaw had claimed that cadets had been dragged from the cadet’s den during the Galespun Massacre, that even the nursery hadn’t been spared from the screaming she’d heard, but this was the confirmation they needed. Brindlewing had been quite the taskmaster herself, ordering the reinforcement of the nursery followed by declaring that a pair of sitters or elders would be sitting outside the entrance in-case of another attack.

“If Roselyric had back-up, she may still be here today,” the gentle molly had declared solemnly. “So no cat will watch the nursery alone.”

She’d laid out a series of drills for the cubs too - training them to retreat more deeply into the brambles and bracken if someone tried to reach for them and the older cubs had been given a few basic lessons in self-defense. Cardinalpaw remembered seeing poor Lynx who’d gotten caught in the chaos of the battle paying particularly close attention to the careful swipes aimed at the eyes and muzzles of their imaginary attackers. 

After Nettleflower’s heroic actions, Brindlewing and Asterdawn had spoken together and then extended the offer to allow the molly to stay in the nursery long-term. She’d seemed rather emotional - accepting the offer as soon as her voice returned to her. Now most of the time Cardinalpaw saw her, she was sitting guard outside of the nursery. 

Deerleap wasn’t far behind - strengthening herbs and consistent meals had brought the old molly back to life. Her previously dull and matted gray fur had become glossy and pristine once more, the cracked and flaking scales on her tail had become glossy once more. She’d been offered a space in the elder’s den - she’d already retired honorably in the Fennyield after all but she rallied harshly against it.

“I’ve sat on my laurels since I got here,” she proclaimed when Asterdawn extended the offer. “Now I will repay you for sheltering and healing us.”

Without preamble, she’d immediately taken up stock as a nursery guard herself. She’d even been caught telling Fennyield stories to the cubs who pestered her. Cardinalpaw still brought the two of them the odd bird at times, enjoying the expressions on their faces as they attempted to adapt to Stormborn prey.

“That’s enough Cardinalpaw.”

He snapped back to attention, allowing the makai he’d begun attempting to channel through his body once more to dissipate and return to the cycle within him. He stretched a little feeling completely alive, giving a harsh blink as he stared up at the brilliant midday sun. He turned a confused expression to her - it was far earlier than she usually called their training lately.

Asterdawn chuckled, padding forward to draw her tongue between his ears fondly. She’d been doing that more often lately - Cardinalpaw just purred lightly in response.

“I have a meeting with Callastorm about the possibility of another ambush,” Asterdawn explained to him, her tail swishing to her explanation. “Then I must meet with Larkwing and Ravenpaw.”

“Are they still looking for the Galespun?” Cardinalpaw asked with interest.

Asterdawn nodded in confirmation, “The Souls’ anger will be unending for as long as there’s only three factions in the forest. We’re trying to think of where they could’ve gone but it’s been so long… the rain and the Fennyield scent covering the moor is causing… complications. We may have to consult the territories nearby.”

The Republics and the Skulks, Cardinalpaw mused to himself. No wonder Ravenpaw was so busy lately - if they were preparing to cross into republic territory, they must be trying to settle as many variables as possible.

“... I hope they’re alright,” Cardinalpaw said with a sigh. “Courage’s Republic are noble but no one likes seeing a whole faction’s worth of Empire cats outside of the forest. It’s never a good thing.”

Asterdawn grimaced - learning more Empire history had taught Cardinalpaw a lot about the Empire’s lack of allies. The Raids weren’t the first time the Empire ventured out of their territory to cause trouble - clashes with the nearest Republics weren’t uncommon either, neither were raids performed on loner lands. Though the Empire had slowly begun to settle down, moving away from their endless desire to take more territory; the creatures they attacked and the lands they tried to steal still bore the scars.

 “... you are right,” Asterdawn admitted to him. “Our predecessors have built quite the reputation for us - it’s not safe for empire cats to leave Empire Territory.”

She shook her head as if to dislodge the back thoughts building up, offering another lick between his ears in response.

“Run along now Cardinalpaw. Take the rest of this day to rest - Souls knows Spottedholly will have my hide otherwise.”

Cardinalpaw purred up at her, touching noses with his mentor fondly before breaking off and slipping towards the entrance of the Sandy Hollow after a bit of persistent nudging. He climbed easily out of the hollow, arching his back and flexing his claws ready to find a fresh snack. The food in the ukennva back in the barracks wasn’t bad of course but sometimes, Cardinalpaw just really wanted something still warm. If his food couldn’t be flavored the same way it was back in the Kingdoms, then at least being able to eat while the blood was still hot was the least he could have.

He was so focused on scaring something out of hiding, fulling intending to sink his teeth into the first thing he came across that he rammed directly into a landborn cloud, sending them both crashing to the ground with an “oof!”

“Ow,” he complained.

“Souls Cardinalpaw,” groaned Jackdawpaw in response, pushing himself to his paws. “We’re in the same faction.”

Cardinal flattened his pinna with embarrassment, “Sorry - I’m just really hungry.”

Jackdawpaw shook himself out and got back to his paws and trotted a tail-length away where the prey he’d tossed to the side when he’d fallen, grasping a plump looking squirrel laid over an equally hefty looking rabbit and a fallen shrew and tossed it to him. It slid to a half beneath his muzzle, filling his nostrils with the scent of the freshly killed creature.

“Eat that then,” Jackdawpaw said, gesturing to it. “I caught it for a hunting assessment.”

Cardinalpaw purred to himself, allowing his friend the chance to change his mind. He sank his teeth into the prey, purring a bit louder with satisfaction. He wanted to savor it, but his stomach was roaring with hunger from the harsh training he went through and so it only took a few short moments to devour it, polishing off every scrap of fur and bones.

He passed his tongue over his mouth with a sigh, eying the rabbit still by his friend.

“Oh no you don’t,” laughed Jackdawpaw, tugging his catches closer to himself. “I can’t have you eating my entire assessment!”

Cardinalpaw rolled his eyes fondly but watched his friend happily. It was nice to hear Jackdawpaw joking and laughing again - the cadet’s den had felt horrifically cold and empty with the tom’s good humor and playful behavior. It had hurt them all to see the gray tom laying listlessly in his nest, staring at the walls with glazed eyes; whatever prey they’d brought to him at dawn still untouched.

Instead, he rolled to his paws himself and reached out; grabbing his sparrow. He batted off the gray tom trying to reclaim the prey until he realized that Cardinalpaw was offering help, not eating it. He happily grasped his rabbit, bumping the ruddy tom’s shoulder with his head affectionately. They walked together in an amicable silence, occasionally bumping each other with their flanks, batting each other’s ears teasingly. The quiet of the forest was a blessing, only the singing chirping birds and the rustling of prey in the undergrowth as he spent time with his best friend.

It was this lack of overt noise that allowed him to pick up the faint murmurs of a low conversation.

Slowly prodded Jackdawpaw with his tail, gesturing with his head in the direction he heard the sound.

You hear that? He asked silently, earning an agreeing nod from his friend.

The two cadets put their many moons of stalking lessons to practice, stalking forward slowly; stepping carefully between the branches and avoiding the crunchier looking leaves littering the forest floor. Cardinalpaw took special care to keep his tail off the ground, hovering it just above the leaf-litter to prevent the alerting of the speakers.

“It’s worrying,” said a recognizable voice.

Pricklestripe, Cardinalpaw recognized immediately, relief flooding him. He saw his own feelings reflected in the face of his friend. He’s been truly worried they’d stumbled across a Fennyield plotting session - they’d have to put their sprint training into practice again, racing against the Fenns and hoping desperately that the brush and bracken would slow them enough to allow them to get to the barracks first.

The two slowly began to back towards the woods again, worries soothed, but the speakers started enough again.

“Any suspects?” Pricklestripe prompted one of the speakers. “Someone had to know you and Our Storm were outside of the territory.”

“... I don’t know,” responded the anxious voice of Longtail. “It has to be someone easily unnoticed, who can be found on the Fennyield border without suspicion. Are we sure it’s not the runaways? What if Nettleflower was faking it?”

“If it was obvious, we would’ve found him already,” Tigerslash’s voice veto’d. “Besides, Daisyflower and Brindlewing have been watching those Fenns like hawks. If they snuck off, we would've known.”

“Small… goes unnoticed… can be by enemy borders…” Pricklestripe’s voice mused. “...maybe… Ravenpaw?”

Jackdawpaw stopped dead in his tracks, turning a wide-eyed expression of Cardinalpaw who knew likely bore the same expression of disbelief. How could Pricklestripe be accusing  Ravenpaw? 

“What?” said Longtail, sounding just as surprised. “... Ravenpaw?”

“Think about it - he’s a diplomat. No one would ever suspect a thing - Larkwing has him running across Galespun territory all the time. All he has to do is make a little stop - talk to one patrol…”

“But… Ravenpaw is a loyal Stormborn cadet…”

“He was never like the others,” Tigerslash allowed. “Calm yourself Longtail, we’re not saying he’s doing it knowingly. It’s possible he’s being manipulated - he’s always been weak-minded.”

“You think someone’s taking advantage of him?”

“It’s possible. We must remain vigilant.”

Cardinalpaw had heard enough - he signaled with his ears to get his friend’s attention and began to back slowly away from the private meeting between the three. They practically held their breaths as they retreated, keeping themselves low while moving as swiftly as they could. Only when they had retraced their steps, finding the spot where they’d collided did they feel safe enough to begin speaking again.

“By the Souls, what did we just hear?!” Jackdawpaw burst out, dropping his rabbit immediately. His hackles were raised, the now fully formed quills usually buried deep in his pelt were now visible to all who would attempt to attack him, making him a much more intimidating sight. “Cardinalpaw, what did we just hear?”

“Try to calm down Jackdaw-”

“How can I calm down?! Pricklestripe is going around telling dokeme that Ravenpaw’s the spy?!”

“Jackdawpaw,” he interrupted firmly, rearing up onto his haunches. He places his paws on his shoulders, rumbling gently in an attempt to soothe his friend’s frazzled form. “Calm. Down. I have no idea what’s happening either but panicking isn’t going to get us anywhere. Take a deep breath.”

He took a deep breath in, encouraging his friend to follow him. They breathed in and out slowly for a moment, watching as his hackles slowly lowered; his fur flattened out. Only when the other cadet’s quills finally smoothed out, returning to their place hidden among his fur did the ruddy tom slowly lower himself back onto his paws.

“Are you okay now?” Cardinalpaw asked.

“Okay enough,” Jackdawpaw admitted, giving a little bit of a shiver. He dragged his paw through the leaf-litter, budging the rabbit with a curious expression. He turned his attention back in the direction they’d come from. “... Pricklestripe is telling cats that Ravenpaw is a spy. That he’s been tricked or threatened or something.”

“I just don’t know how Longtail could believe a word of it,” Cardinalpaw growled. “That’s his brother! Wrenpaw wouldn’t believe a word of this skunkwaste.”

“... Longtail’s always thought Ravenpaw was weak,” Jackdawpaw admitted grudgingly. “If Ravenpaw really is being threatened, Longtail wouldn’t think he’s got a prayer of defending himself.”

Cardinalpaw sighed, slumping a little. It wasn’t hard to understand Longtail’s thought process he supposed - Ravenpaw was nearing the end of his training as a diplomat and as such, he was being sent off more and more alone to scope out the Galespun zone. Larkwing had explained that it was easier to go unnoticed in single units surveying the area than trying to move around together, but there was also the chance that if either diplomat came across a Fennyield patrol, they’d have to hope they were fast enough to hide.

“I’m more worried about what Tigerslash believes,” Cardinalpaw admitted. “If he believes the stuff Pricklestripe is telling him, what if he tells Our Storm?”

“He’d need evidence - Our Storm would never act on baseless rumors,” Jackdawpaw insisted.

“But what if Pricklestripe ‘finds’ evidence,” Cardinalpaw said with a scowl. “He’s the one who’s been filling Longtail’s head with thistle-down.”

Jackdawpaw sent him an expression of open horror.

“We have to keep an eye out for Ravenpaw,” Cardinalpaw said firmly. “There’s something we’re not understanding.”

| | |

Maybe it was because they were aware of a strangeness now and were actively searching for signs, but now it seemed that a lot of things regarding Ravenpaw’s situation weren’t adding up. What was it his mother always said? When mifra want sheep, they always hear bleating in the distance? Well Cardinalpaw has been starved for sheep and now he was hearing the calls in every direction he swiveled his head.

All of the cadets had fairly fierce schedules now. With Jackdawpaw slowly recovering from Lionbelly’s death, he was finally working on more advanced combat moved for battle. Chafficnhpaw and Wrenpaw - seeing that their friend was recovering - thus backed off and began focusing on their own work, improving their tracking and hunting skills to legionary levels. Even Quietpaw had gotten serious about training her herself - bouncing between patrols and hunting, the activities that most resembled the Galespun escorts in the hopes that her training wouldn’t be completely stunted by the time they found her faction again. 

Ravenpaw was no different from the rest of them.

He spent most of his days out of the barracks with Larkwing and Quietpaw, slowly trying to decide where the Galespun could’ve possibly gone and dodging Fennyield patrols. One time both diplomats had returned harried and panting, explaining that they’d just barely escaped being directly seen as that the Fenns had chased them through the heather all the way back to the Kirkyard. When he wasn’t out with Larkwing on the moorland, he was fetching herbs for Spottedholly and being put through his paces in a series of assessments. Lately Cardinalpaw only saw his friend briefly in passing or when he was snoring away in his nest, empty muscle salve jars sitting around him.

Jackdawpaw and Cardinalpaw had agreed to keep the conversation they’d overheard to themselves for the moment, unwilling to accuse Pricklestripe of anything given how everyone knew they resented the dark furred tom.

“It’ll look like we’re being spiteful,” Cardinalpaw grumbled. “And we can’t really count on Longtail to back us up.”

Instead, they elected to stay as close as they could to their friend; pulling Chaffinchpaw and Wrenpaw into the web under the guise of keeping him from overworking himself. The two ha readily agreed, jokingly commenting that Cardinalpaw wasn’t anyone to talk even as they worked to keep him safe.

And thus, it was Wrenpaw who reported the most worrying news without even knowing it.

Tigerslash had begun stepping in to speak with Ravenpaw whenever the two crossed paths, often sending the lanky tom out on additional personal errands. Whenever Larkwing wasn’t with Ravenpaw, he was speaking with Asterdawn and Callastorm leaving plenty of opportunity for the suspicious tom to interrogate their friend. Even more distressingly, the lanky tom had begun returning to barracks slightly damp, often smelling of pine trees. When they groomed his sleeping form, they found pine needles tangled in his fur that they swiftly hid from their denmates, careful to bury them in the nesting material so they could dispose of them discreetly during bedding changes. 

As if Tigerslash’s obvious distrust wasn’t bad enough, it appeared Pricklestripe’s gossip had spread through the barracks. It seemed like Ravenpaw was always alone whenever the other cadets weren’t around, some cats going as far as to give him a wide berth. 

The elders had begun to speak with him stiffly, keeping their responses to his questions short and clipped in a way that made the lanky tom flinch. Gradually he’s stopped asking questions at all, now sitting through his lessons with his head bowed, not meeting anyone’s eyes. He hardly ate anymore, pushing away half-eaten mice and sparrows for other to finish off while he trudged off to his den to rest. 

Even Brindlewing had taken the tom aside, kindly and gentle as she was always; emphasizing to him how he could always come to her if he needed help or was feeling unsafe. The cadet had returned to their den that night well-groomed with Brindlewing’s gentle scent tangled in his short pelt. Ravenpaw hadn’t slept at all the day after that conversation - Cardinalpaw knows because he hadn’t slept either.

In their quest to keep Ravenpaw company and balance out the isolation of the faction, Jackdawpaw and Cardinalpaw had chipperly joined him on a hunting assignment. They’d only gotten two catches in - a squirrel and a mouse - before Jackdawpaw had trodden over a thorn. It hadn’t broken off thankfully, staying firmly attached to the plant instead of getting lodged inside the wound but it had still slashed open his pad. Maybe they could’ve continued but Jackdawpaw only realized what happened after stepping in mud, the gray tom shooting up with a yowl of pain followed by frantic licking of the wound. 

Sadly, Cardinalpaw remembered all the terrible ways an injury could go if it got infected from the dirt beneath their paws and thus, they reluctantly bid Ravenpaw goodbye and started on the journey home. They’d had to stop a bit before they got back to the barracks, grooming the spot once more to remove the worst of the mud when the tom complained that it was starting to sting again.

“Hello you both,” Spottedholly greeted easily, eying them. “Oh stars, what’s happened this time?”

“Ya Spottedholly,” Cardinalpaw said easily, helping his friend limp to one of the front-den nests. “Jackdawpaw cut his paw on a thorn and got some mud in it.”

“Ah, and you’re worried about an infection,” Spottedholly hummed, ducking her head to sniff the wound thoughtfully. She pressed it with her nose a few times, watching carefully to see when the gray tabby winced. “It doesn’t seem too deep. Let’s clean it up just a bit more, it won’t need much I think.”

Cardinalpaw took the opportunity to catch up with the mender - though the Fennyield ambushes and border scuffles were sparing, the wounds they left were rather horrid. Spottedholly spent most of her time treating their factionmates and restocking her herb-stores. He was both pleased and surprised to discover that Spottedholly used to be a guard herself and Callastorm was now running her throw refresher courses to polish her combat-skills back to what they used to be.

“I remember when this used to be easy,” Spottedholly chuckled lamely as she wrapped Jackdawpaw’s injured paw. “Too easy even. It was part of the reason I chose to become a starmender under Featherwhiskers.”

“That explains why your names is -holly,” Jackdawpaw mumbled, earning a teasing swat to his ears.

“Oh hush,” she said with good humor. She flexed her paw, her long claws sliding free of their sheathes for a moment in demonstration. “When I was a cadet, this training was easy but now that I’m out of practice my muscles are always sore. And I can’t even use the muscle salves! All of the legionaries and the cadets need them!”

Jackdawpaw groaned in sympathy, “Sometimes, when I leave the Hollow I’ve just gotta lay down in the forest to let my whiskers recover from it all.”

“I’d forgotten that my ears can even get sore,” Spottedholly remarked. “They just… just…”

Cardinalpaw looked up, confusion flickering through him as Spottedholly’s voice trailed off, her expression going blank. He went to move towards her, prod her in a questioning manner, but his body seized up in a familiar way.

Oh flames, he thought in despair as his eyes unwilling met Spottedholly’s gaze full of stars. 

Something flickered in the corner of his eyes and like the vision before, whatever bindings kept him trapped snapped. Looking around he was no-longer in the mender’s den, instead standing in the center of the barracks as a brilliant fire blazed through the barracks. The bushes lining the barracks crackled as embers jumped from their burning branches, the trees in the distance dancing with orange flames. Charred grass was scattered throughout the clearing, ashen spaces creating small gaps in the fire that were decorated with withered flowers. 

Despite the heat making the air heavy, the muggy fire draped across the branches; the barracks were calm. There was no panicked yowling or rushing for safety as cubs were ushered out into the wider forest, being made to head for the river. No one was even kicking dirt over the smaller fires to minimize the spread.

An unknown force grabbed his head, drawing his attention to the top of Highrock where two cats made of fire stood. The large one had flickers of blue on the tips of its flame, looking over the burning barracks with satisfied expressions. Eventually the large fire jumped down from the rocks, slinking off into the Brastilian’s den, leaving the smaller fire to sit calmly on the Highrock.

He took a deep breath in, a bit surprised to not feel the slightest bit affected by the fire roaring around him. Though being from the Shining Sun gave him a certain amount of heat resistance it was still strange to sit here, his pelt rippling with a lively fire without even feeling overly warm. The embers he breathed in didn’t burn his throat or make him cough, rather the more he swallowed, the more the back of his throat tickled like he was trying to spit a flame. The smoke didn’t make his eyes sting and the Cardinalpaw was actively resisting the urge to sink his paws into the warm ashes collected beneath his paws as a voice so faint he almost had to strain to hear it whispered in his ears;

“The blaze of its fire….”

Cardinalpaw blinked and the sharp scent of herbs smacked the back of his throat. 

He coughed furiously for a moment desperately trying to draw breath back into his lungs over the scrambling of paws as someone approached rapidly. When the fit ended, he shook his head while he sat there; recovering from the lack of air in his lungs and the painful sensation in his stomach from the continuous coughing he’d done. The nausea came rushing through him and he was suddenly glad that he’d chosen not to eat that sunhigh. 

“Are you okay?” Spottedholly asked him gently, placing a soaked mossball in front of him.

He did his best to convey his gratitude with just his face for a moment while he drank from the damp moss, doing his best to quench the sudden parched sensation of his throat as if the dryness of the vision transferred over into his waking body. He shook his head again, trying to get his head straightened before finally drawing his attention up to her.

“I’m fine,” he said reassuringly. “Just tired now.”

“Did anything stick?” she asked him.

He flicked the tip of his tail while he thought about before sighing, “Not much. Something about a blazing fire.”

Spottedholly stiffened, a serious expression coming upon her face.

“It’s a serious omen,” she murmured, her gaze far away. Cardinalpaw tried to decipher the expression on her face but it was one that he’d never seen her make before. “It can’t be a good sign that it’s come up again.”

“...what happened to Jackdawpaw,” he asked after a moment, looking around and not seeing his friend anywhere in the den.

Spottedholly stared into the distance for a bit longer before shaking her head, turning a clear gaze to him as her mind returned to the present.

“I sent him to the cadet’s den to rest,” the starmender explained. “He should be alright to walk on his paw again after a brief rest, though he’ll have to keep it wrapped for a few days.”

She studied him for a moment before tossing her head towards the entrance of her den, “Grab something to eat then go rest in the cadet’s den yourself Cardinalpaw. You must be tired and hungry.”

A yawn broke free of his jaws as he nodded in agreement to her, rising slowly to his paws. He staggered a little on his way out, his legs still trembling a little as he recovered from the exhaustion of the dream. He stretched forwards a little, his hindlegs trembling a bit more from the force of the stretch; flexing his claws as he curled his tail up towards his hindquarters. He stepped forward, giving himself a little shake and trotting out to the ukennva. Sniffing about a little, he plucked a mouse from the pile; settling down against the cadet’s stump and began gently picking away at it.

He’d half finished his mouse, yawning a few more times as he groggily made it through his when the faint scent of pine-sap touched his nose. Cardinalpaw looked up in time to see the exhausted form of Ravenpaw stumbling over to the ukennva. He dropped their earlier catches on the pile alongside a pair of frogs - frogs larger than the ones seen inland of the Stormborn territory…

He blinked as his friend flopped beside him, picking aimlessly at his shrew. Another meal he would likely not finish.

Cardinalpaw lowered his voice and leaned in, putting his muzzle near his friend’s ear as he asked, “Why do you smell like pine needles?”

“Hunting on the Fenn border,” Ravenpaw mumbled. 

“But that’s dangerous,” Cardinalpaw argued. “You’re a diplomat - what if they ambush you trying to deprive us of our important ranks?”

“The faction needs food,” the lanky tom mumbled.

“Can’t you hunt near the Shores instead? The banks near Sunningrocks have good prey.”

“Tigerslash assigned me to that section of the territory.”

Warning lights started flashing in his head, the ruddy tom doing his best to prevent from bristling on the spot lest someone come to ask what they’re talking about.

“Ravenpaw, we’ve gotta tell Asterdawn,” Cardinalpaw insisted. “Or at least Callastorm. You’re in danger every time you go near that border!”

“We’re all in danger,” Ravenpaw snapped, and it was so out of character that the ruddy tom flinched from his tone. An expression of guilt tore at the lanky tom’s face and he wordlessly pushed the barely touched shrew towards his friend before rising to his paws. He didn’t say another word to him as he ducked into the cadet’s den.

Cardinalpaw swallowed the urge to call his friend back and demands a conversation, ducking his head and instead finishing off his mouse and the shrew Ravenpaw left behind. He was deeply worried about his friend, but nothing would be more suspicious than Cardinalpaw shouting foolishly into the den, demanding that he come out and potentially waking someone else in there. So he forced himself to stay where he was, drawing his tongue across his pelt; taking care to groom his shoulders and flanks like everyone knew he always did after eating while he tried to think about how to broach the subject of safety and the rumors spread by Pricklestripe.

Only when his coat was his usual standards of glossy did his rise casually to his paws, yawning once more before slipping into the cadet’s den.

He bit back a curse when he noted that Ravenpaw was already curled up in his nest, messy furred with his tail dangling while he snored softly with Jackdawpaw sitting across from him. He’d have to wait up early tomorrow and hope he could catch him in the forest or perhaps on another hunting patrol. He sighed to himself - he was tired anyway, he probably wouldn’t be able to properly communicate his thought-process to his friend anyway. He stepped into his own nest, turning in circles a few times as he flattened down the center of his nest before settling down; tucking his paws beneath his body.

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath readying herself to sleep when something jabbed him in his spine.

He yelped, jumping to his paws; looking towards Ravenpaw with bristled fur.

“Ravenpaw if you’re that angry you can just-”

He cut himself off, staring in muted horror at his friend still fast-asleep though resting in the slightest. The tom was writhing thrashing like he was trying to avoid claws, tiny frightened mewls leaving his mouth like he was trying his best to suppress the sounds. Cardinalpaw dodged the flailing paws of his friend the best as he could while the lanky tom dismantled his nest, caught in the tangled webs of whatever Taihakida was whispering into his head.

Or Amberspirit’s legionaries, he reminded himself of the faction’s beliefs.

He avoided the flailing paws of his friend, gently prodding the other tom with his paw in an attempt to awaken him. The ruddy tom hissed to himself as Ravenpaw’s claws got caught on his bottom lip, tear a small lip that immediately welled up with blood. He shook his head but refocused his efforts, finally making one last firm prod in the cheek that reawakened him.

He jumped back at the agitated hiss this earned him, watching Ravenpaw wave one last threatening slash in his direction before darted to the back of the den. Cardinalpaw’s heart broke watching his friend curl up against the wall, trembling like a leaf in a hailstorm while the scent of fear drowned out every other scent present in the den. His pupils had been blown wide with fear, leaving only strips of lavender visible on the edges. Cardinalpaw twitched towards him but as much as he wanted to go over and sooth him, cuddle him gently; all doing that would do is frighten him more.

Rustling at his side caught his attention, Jackdawpaw creeping forwards with his hackles raised with equal horror on his face.

The lanky tom’s gaze fell on them in silence, still panting while his chest heaved in endless fear. Time flowed like drying tree-sap as they waited for the fear in Ravenpaw’s eyes to slowly flicker into recognition, the lanky tom slowly unraveling from the tightly coiled ball he’d placed himself in. Lilac eyes blinked rapidly as his bristled fur lowered on his back, his quills hiding themselves among his fur once more. 

“… Ravenpaw?” Jackdawpaw prompted hesitantly, extending a paw carefully towards him.

They saw the moment that Ravenpaw returned to the present, the rest of the tension bleeding out of his body in an instant. He slunk back over to them, still shaking with his tail tucked between his legs. Jackdawpaw didn’t hesitate to scrape together the remains of Ravenpaw’s nest that he could reach, patting it into his own massive nest that he tended to share with Cardinalpaw. He climbed into the newly formed nest, making a series of inviting chirps towards the long-limbed tom. 

Ravenpaw hesitated for a moment before climbing in, allowing Jackdawpaw to begin running his tongue between his ears; purring gently. Cardinalpaw climbed in after him, wrapping his own long tail around Ravenpaw soothingly, drawing his own tongue over his back in a comforting manner.

“...it’s Tigerslash…” he rasped out. “And Pricklestripe. They’re-they’re telling the faction…”

“We know,” Cardinalpaw soothed. “We heard them talking.”

Ravenpaw turned wide startled eyes on him disbelievingly.

“But-but if you knew why are you still being so nice to me?” Ravenpaw demanded. “Everyone’ll think you’re spies too!”

“You’re our friend Frightypaws,” Jackpawdaw put forth firmly. “You haven’t done anything wrong. And even if you were being threatened, that wouldn’t be your fault.”

The last bit of fear bled away from Ravenpaw’s body, the black furred tom looking between the two of them; his eyes shining of adoration. He leaned further into the comforting cradling of Jackdawpaw, enjoying the gentle rasp of his denmate’s tongues over his pelt.

“... Ravenpaw,” Cardinalpaw began hesitantly. “Why are they doing this? Why are they saying this about you?”

For a long moment their friend didn’t answer, casting a frightened look towards the den’s entrance as if he was afraid that the russet tabby would come clawing his way in any second now. His bushy tail lashed back and forth between them, his pulse picking up while Jackdawpaw quickly returned to grooming his fur down once more.

“Because… because the Shorerisen didn’t kill Mottletail,” he admitted softly, eyes still darting around. “Tigerslash did. And I saw it.”

Jackdawpaw’s breath caught in his throat, his grooming pausing mid-stroll with his tongue half-lolled from his mouth in horror,

“Tell us everything,” Cardinalpaw requested.

And Ravenpaw started rambling. Now that he was being given permission to share his burden, it was like the words were just pouring out from his soul. He explained the ‘second patrol’ that Tigerslash had mentioned - a patrol made of only two cats, Brushwhisker and Goldenfin just like in the story he told at the Peace-Gather. The story he’d told then seemed to be what had actually happened, Mottletail coming in just in time to save his life and prevent him from becoming a negotiation tool.

“He was helping I think,” Ravenpaw murmured. “He didn’t just come in and-and um. He was helping - he was carrying me because I was too tired to walk. They stopped for a little bit and um, they argued - I don’t know about what. It got really bad - Mottletail yelled at him and Tigerslash just… he just…”

Jackdawpaw ran his tongue soothingly across his pelt once more.

“He didn’t know you were awake?” Cardinalpaw asked him gently.

Ravenpaw shook his head, “I really was tired. I could barely move before and watching Tigerslash kill him… I didn’t move. I couldn’t tell Asterdawn ‘cause I really was exhausted and Spottedholly already said I was in shock.”

“...she would think you were misremembering,” Cardinalpaw mused grimly. “Or send you back to Spottedholly for more treatment.”

“Beetledung,” Jackdawpaw cursed. “And we can’t tell her now. It’s been moons and we have no proof.”

“I wanted to go to Asterdawn but he knows now,” Ravenpaw admitted, his shivering starting up again as he pressed harder into them. “He knows. I think he heard me at the Peace-Gather. He- he told me to keep my mouth shut or he’d do it for me.”

He looked up, shaking with panic, “I can hear the whispers and the rumors- he’s trying to get rid of me. I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die!”

Cardinalpaw shook his head - this was a difficult situation to be in, one he’d never imagined himself dealing with. Some of his factionmates was spreading false rumors about his friend? And one of them seemed to be blackmailing him. He pressed closer to his friend, soothing his frightening mewling back into quiet shivering.

“We won’t let you die,” Cardinalpaw tells him firmly. “Just stick with us, we’ll protect you.”

---

Allegiances | Previous | Next | First

[strelles-universe]

"Fun" Fact: Pinestar initially planned on taking Tigerkit with him when he joined the kingdoms as a farmer - he's hoped that by making him a normal kit who has to do chores like everyone else would help him avert his destiny. Leopardfoot fought him viciously and eventually blinded him in his left eye. Instead of standing up for him, many of the sitters and monarchs sided with Leopardfoot, disagreeing with him and insisting that he was unnecessarily hard on his son.

When Pinestar left, Sunstar didn't become deputy for half a moon because everyone assumed he was kidding. When it became clear that Pinestar wasn't coming back, Sunstar stepped in and declared the matter not to be talked about.

Everyone claimed not to know why ThunderClan was suffering but the elders know it's because ThunderClan chased out their own leader - a leader trying to do his best for them.

When TIgerclaw began his fall, the older cats desperately ignored it hoping that if they pretended they didn't see it, it would never happen.

Cause if it did.... that means Pinestar was right.

[strelles-universe]

Tigerclaw is lucky that he wasn't born RiverClan since tigers are known for their webbed paws and have been recorded to swim 7 miles/11.26 Km a day 😂

Lmao - it would've been less pressure on him actually lol. In their myths Riversoul gave LeopardClan (who I've honestly considered renaming JaguarClan just for swimming accuracy) all of his attention with sleek waterproof coats, webbed paws, small ears and shielded eyes.

To TigerClan he gave webbed paws and a thick coat to walk through what would eventually become ShadowClan territory with minimal sickness.

LionClan wasn't given much at all - just an inherent knowledge of how to right themselves but only as cubs. If you miss the window of opportunity, they must be taught manually.

[strelles-universe]

“Hello everyone, the stars have allowed me to live another day, so now I’m going to make it everyone’s problem” - Tigerclaw

Yeah, basically lmfao XD That's exactly what's happening here.

[strelles-universe]

Cats of ShadowClan: Tigerstar

Name: Tigerstar, Tigerclaw

Meaning: Honorable and Skilled Fighter

Identity: Cisgender Tom - He/Him

Orientation: Heterosexual

Rank: Leader

Former Rank(s): Guard, Secondary, ThunderClan Exile

A massive broad shouldered tabby with deep red almost brown fur. His stripes are thick and braided like a member of TigerClan’s and his eyes are a sharp amber. Tigerclaw has a scar across his nose and his left ear is torn. Tigerclaw’s claws grow extremely fast but rather than constantly shortening them, he considers them a gift from the Souls and allows them to stay long. As such, his claws are almost perpetually sticking out from his paws.

He puts on a front of toughness and was known as a bullheaded apprentice who wouldn’t admit to being injured unless sat on. Being the only survivor of his litter, Tigerclaw has always worked hard to prove to his clan that the Souls weren’t wrong for letting him live. He was very close to his mother and when she died, he was devastated and closed himself off to the world.

Tigerclaw feels nothing but resentment towards his father, remembering him only as someone who scolded him even when everyone else was praising him and his eventual leave. Fiercely determined to prove he could surpass his father and angered at the farms for “taking” his father from him, Tigerclaw took to Thistleclaw’s more aggressive style of training like a fish to water and treats known kingdom cats viciously. Though they were close in his youth, Tigerclaw and Thistleclaw eventually had a series of bad falling outs that resulted in them not being able to sleep in the same den as one another. When Thistleclaw was eventually revealed to have died, he only sat vigil as a courtesy. Despite this, he still thinks of Thistleclaw as more of his father than Pinestar - hence the reason he kept his suffix.

Tigerclaw holds a deep sense of resentment towards Whitestar for - in his eyes - stealing away Bluestar and Thistleclaw. When Snowblossom died, Thistleclaw began focusing intently on his blood-son; almost to the exclusion of training Tigerpaw. When the apprentice tentatively broached the subject, Thistleclaw made their training sessions short but brutal. They mostly consisted of running him ragged and bruising him to the point of trembling then criticizing his skills with little praise and dragging him home. Determined to prove he could handle it, Tigerpaw bore the ain without speaking up and let anger curl in his stomach towards Whitepaw who was praised and coddled by his father. 

Tigerclaw believes himself a tough cat destined for greatness and will lead ThunderClan into a golden age. Tigerclaw is willing to do whatever it would take to ensure ThunderClan’s survival and is quick to resort to violence when solving his problems. He feels a combination of disgust and aggression towards Fireheart for being from the kingdoms.

Now leader of ShadowClan, Tigerstar is bent on seeking revenge on his former clan and raising ShadowClan into a noble and courageous clan. Though frustrated by the new customs, Tigerstar is rather eager to discard everything he had left of ThunderClan in him and is steadily adapting to the new traditions - especially with the amount of authority they brought him.  Killing Goldenflower was an accident - he had no intention of killing her but when she caught him, it was inevitable. 

Some part of him is torn to shreds, confused and conflicted by the emotions of grief and loss he feels knowing that he was responsible for Bluestar’s death. He remembers her stern but loving demeanor from when he was an apprentice and the world feels almost wrong without her in it. When he has time to stew in his thoughts, Tigerstar snarls and beats himself for being foolish enough to choose Thistleclaw over her - he wonders if he’d chosen her over his mentor if she would’ve made him deputy sooner. Though he remains firm in his conviction that he’s doing what’s right, that he’s achieving his destiny, Tigerstar sincerely hopes that Bluestar is at peace now and that she be reunited with her family.

Mentor(s): Thistleclaw (deceased)

Apprentice(s): Thornrustle

Parent(s): Leopardfoot (dame/deceased), Pinestar (sire/deceased)

Sibling(s): Nightkit (sister/deceased). Mistkit (sister/deceased)

Nephling(s): N/A

Cousin(s): N/A

Mate(s): Goldenflower (separated/deceased)

Crush(es): N/A

Kit(s): Bramblepaw (son/estranged), Tawnypaw (daughter/estranged)

[strelles-universe]

Tigerclaw really said “yeetus” didn’t he

He just grabs Leopardstar by the scruff and said “yeet”

He's big enough to do it to lmao - he just chucks her into the water and acts like everyone else are the Weird Ones XD

[strelles-universe]

Tigerclaw throwing Leopardshine/star's body into the river

XD He was basically throwing a tantrum with the whole, "throwing her into a river" thing. Leopardshine and Tigerclaw are apprentice-hood friends - Leopardshine actually considered him her best friend

[strelles-universe]

Did tigerstar take all of leopardstars lives? That seems unrealistic. I know it happened to him with scourge but that was a big climax moment and only possible because of scourge knowledge on how to kill and reinforced claws

No no, he killed her once then threw her into the river so she'd be coming back to life underwater. Leopardstar loses two lives but by the time she's recovered, Tigerclaw is holding the queens, kits and half clan cats in the ShadowClan camp to keep the remaining RiverClan cats from rebelling and posted guards to keep her from just walking back in.

Also drowning is so much worse than some people will make it out to be. Truthfully, if it wasn't already my plan for Mistyfoot to fish her out and go begging to ThunderClan for help, I could very easily say she died nine times that way.

A leader breaths in as their first act after being revived - what do you think happens when they breathe in repeatedly underwater with no help? Also Leopardstar still has some drowning related trauma and would likely panic, making the situation worse.

TLDR; No he didn't take all nine of her lives but drowning a leader damn well could absolutely rock them

Also Scourge took all 9 of Tigerclaw's lives completely by accident. Theoretically, any injury of that severity would take all nine lives. He was slit from throat to tail so at most, StarClan could seal it like, an inch at a time. For example, I'm not sure StarClan can actually heal a snapped neck and I'm almost convinced that going for the throat as a killing blow on leaders is a like, form of a respect. So that killing a leader is a battle ending signal rather than a completely tragic one.

[strelles-universe]

Wait is Tigerclaw going to take over riverclan instead of shadowclan? Or is he going to take over part of shadowclan then use them to help him take riverclan?

He's still ShadowClan's leader but after Leopardshine/star denies creating a partnership as she's repulsed by what he's done, he kills her throws her in the river and proceeds to forcibly merge RiverClan with ShadowClan