#>rain

Greydrizzle was of no help, neither were Perch, or Mothleaf. Even Fallowshell, when she was alive, had no help to give. They all had conflicting diagnoses, opinions- none of them helpful. It got worse when Warmpaw's eyes were clawed at by a hare- the dreams came every night, disrupting his sleep. It felt like torture. They did manage to recover, with both eyes intact, but that helped little. The only thing that helped was being with Rainflick. He helped soothe their worries, and was just overall a good cat to vent to. 

So that was the name they screamed when the soft sands of the eastern territory caved in, plummeting her into the unknown. Thankfully, she didn't land on anything hard- only sand. It was plush, soft, and warm- like a nest laid out in the sun. They struggled to their feet, shaking off the sands clinging to his pelt like fleas. It felt... less intense than their dreams. Now that he actually knew what falling felt like... it wasn't that bad. But then, there was the issue of getting out. 

The cave was dark, with only the light of midday to guide her. There were sandstone walls, clawed at by small, desperate claws, leading to a tunnel. At the end of that partially dug out tunnel was the mummy of a cat. ‘Flailpaw,’ Warmpaw knew instantly. His body was small, hardly apprentice sized, and clearly malnourished. How long did the poor thing spend down here? How long would Warmpaw? 

Warmpaw refused to let this cave remain a graveyard for apprentices. They, very carefully, dug around the corpse of the kit, and easily- at least, easily in comparison to Flailpaw- began to dig a good enough tunnel to the surface, just barely wide enough to fit themself. It took hours, long into the night, until Warmpaw finally broke through the dirt and soil to the surface. The tunnel ended along Nettleclan and Bigclan's border. 

With no strength to haul herself to camp, she rested under the roots of a scraggly scrub-tree. When he woke, it was barely dawn. Using what strength they had gathered in the night, she went back into the cave to gather the remains of the departed. In the mouth of the tunnel, he set Flailpaw. They knew, somewhere in that death trap, Pebblespeckle's remains were lying. Perhaps, that was why she was being tormented. So in the sand, they dug, smoothing down the fall, removing stones and beach rock that made a fall into there deadly. The rocks were shoved onto the walls, reinforcement like no other. Warmpaw felt like she was making a den out of the sand cave. 

By the time she heard her name being called by a terribly worried Rainflick, she had found every bone from Pebblespeckle's skeleton and placed them in a shallow hole for the time being. It was nearing night by the time Rainflick’s voice pierced the skies. A cry of Come Home! Her legs burned with effort, but the thought of stopping for a moment hurt worse, so they kept moving. They dug more of the tunnel out, to where she could finally bring out the malnourished Flailpaw and herself in a single trip. He'd have to bring a basket for Pebblespeckle, unfortunately. 

"Warmpaw?!" Yowled Rainflick, backed up by Lavenderstep and Billowspot. They all stopped in horror when Warmpaw emerged from the earth, holding an apprentice-sized body in her large jaws. "What..." Rainflick was immediately by their side, as the two apprentices fell to the earth - one exhausted, the other... 

~~~

When Warmpaw woke, she was in a hospital nest, lying at the back where it was coolest. The only cats in the Hospital were Nettle, Sleepykit, and Octopuskit. Nettle was assisting the two newborn kittens in eating their milk (totally not stolen from the cows that roamed the border of the clans. Totally)

Nettle used her foreleg to dip a paw into the milk, then allowed a kit to nurse off her. Gross- but surprisingly effective. Warmpaw purred while watching, which caused the injured molly to look up, and she smiled at Warmpaw. 

"You're awake." She said, matter-of-factly. "You've slept through two moonrises." She looked back down to Octopuskit, who finished suckling with a full, sleepy look. Instantly Sleepykit was trying to latch, mewing pitifully. Nettle had to gently push the kit off with her nose, then wetted her paw. Warmpaw laughed a little.

"Mothleaf has milk, " Warmpaw croaked, "why are you feeding them?" 

"Mothleaf only has so much. She's weaning her kits, and isn't making as much as the new ones need." Nettle said, helping Sleepykit suckle. "So I am filling in. My previous colony did this for the orphans. If not with milk, then with prey-blood. Didn't… always work, but it was better than letting kits starve." Warmpaw didn't speak after that, a bit sheepish at being corrected. Nettle sure was a strange, but wise cat... 

Warmpaw only meant to close his eyes for a minute, but when they were open again, a bowl full of Nettleclan's signature clam chowder was resting to the side of her nest. It was still steaming, so Warmpaw wasted no time in lapping it up. Out of the corner of their eye, she saw Mothleaf curled around her kittens, along with Lavenderstep and Honeypelt's. Despite the two or so moon difference, they were all curled up like siblings. Greydrizzle was nearby, preparing a salve for storage and replacing what looked like an old, moldy one. Warmpaw didn't know- she's not the medic here. Perch emerged from the entrance of the Hospital with a wad of fresh moss to line the spot where new patients lay. He was the one to notice Warmpaw awake. 

“Warmpaw, ye be in a world of trouble. Rainflick’s mighty cross wit’ ye, and Juniperstar be too.” He said as Warmpaw ate. Their ears lowered instinctively, and they bashfully looked away. “But-” he started again, “yer heroics be not ignored. Peace has come to the Starred Clan, and Wayfinders of the Lost be taking back their charges. Yer punishment be delaying yer warrior naming ‘til the next moon.”

“Th-thank you, Perch. I- I didn’t mean to worry everyone! I- I swear! I just- fell. It was like it came out of nowhere…” Warmpaw huffed, but honestly was thankful there wasn’t any real punishment. “... Did they get Pebblespeckle’s bones? I- I had them all collected ‘nd ready to take out-”

It was a wet, cloudy day. The only things the clan could do was gather the moss of the walls of the camp before the stray rain drop or two started to pelt down upon the cats. Even their hunting was spoiled, the beaches too precarious to hunt in. During the storm's earliest phase, Honeypelt decided to re-check the two-leg dirt road. The clan use the man-made paths to get up and down the beaches in a pinch. He took Honeytide, Sporepond, Chasingleaf, Slipgoose, and Bluepaw.

While the rain lazily fell, it didn't obscure the horrible stench of the two-legs- it smelled fresh even. A two-leg beetle had been here, recently. Bluepaw gagged at the stench. Honeypelt had half a mind to tell the 7 moon old apprentice off until the stang of blood hit his nose and made his stomach churn.

"Someone's been injured!" He yowled even though everyone was in a tight group. He and Honeytide led the rest along the trail until they came upon the body of a cat, one leg sprawled out and marked with the pawprint of a two-leg beetle. Honeytide ran to the cat's side and gently sniffed at their face, which was responded to with a lazy growl from the injured loner. With haste, the patrol shifted their focus to getting them to camp, where Greydrizzle could attend to them.

ε> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ <3

When the patrol arrived to their home, the storm was finally closing in. Through the gloom, Juniperstar lay grooming Meadowshade by the fire of the hearth, with Springpaw and Snapchomp mixing in chunks of stew meat into the pot of perpetual stew. Bluepaw ran ahead and rushed to the hospital to grab the herbalists, which alerted the leader. He froze mid lick, tongue out, and stared owlishly at the cat on the Honey Bitches (of oats) backs.

"Nettle?" He shakily mewed, getting up and following them into the sheltered hospital.

"You know them?" Honeypelt asked, helping ease the injured cat into a nest freshly done up.

"Of course... that's my sister!"

Rainflick wasn't what he would call flashy. He was a simple, humble thing, preparing the food and creating the leathers. Someone had to, and so the older tomcat did. The heat of the camp's oven was a welcome respite from the chill of morning Spring. New Leaf?

Rainflick grew up in Downyclan, where kittypet words mixed into clan words like salt and water. When Juniperstar- then Juniperstrike- took cats from all three neighboring clans, Rainflick was asked, and swiftly siezed that chance. Rainflick wasn't allowed to become a Cook in Downyclan.

He was born from two Tree Builders, cats who made the dens, tools, crafts, and the like from wood. Downyclan was a hard caste system of ruling- no cat was able to change their fate once born. Medics birthed medics, fighters birthed the fighters that would replace them, and thus left little to personal growth.

Rainflick hated woodwork. He hated the splinters and the sticky glues, the hammering and the demands... he'd rather cook and make something that others could enjoy, even if they weren't privy to the finer details. Cooking brought life back into Rainflick, just like it would others. He was taught by two lovely older cats, a pair inseparable even in death- Foxmoon and Brocketprance.

Foxmoon was the older of the two, but only by a moon or two. She was the cook of many generations, the one who agreed to show little Rainflick how to do her magic, on the side of his woodcraft apprenticeship.

Brocketprance was a metal worker- one who was as fierce as she was rebellious. His love for her wife broke the laws of the clan, but little was actually done to punish them. It didn't hurt his own blood- her uncle- was the leader-to-be. Rainflick taught Erminelilac about cooking, oven care, and about tanning hides into pelts and leather. She was more enthusiastic about hides and skin, taking to the skinning knife instead of the meat preparing.

Rainflick didn't mind- he was more inclined to the flesh and herbs than what was around it. ... that sounds creepier than he intended. The insides matter more to him? There. That sounds better. Of course Rainflick would show everyone how to wood work, seeing as most of the clan slept in an overturned, human boat. Hammers and nails forged from Downyclan were simple enough to trade for, no one else could get easy access to salt. And salt tastes GOOD. Especially in a tuber and meat dish.

Mmmm... tubers <3 He's getting off track. Wood work! Honeytide, Mouseheart, and Shimmerprickle were given many lessons on wood, and how to keep it from rotting as quick. Some pieces of the boat were too far gone, but were easy enough to repair, scavenging other wrecks futher along the coast were fruitful, if a bit exhausting. The haul was another thing Rainflick will never miss.

Mouseheart took up the bulk of woodworking. Shimmerprickle liked it well enough, doing carving and painting, but kept her duties as a fighter. Honeytide hated it just as Rainflick did. But he held his tongue and kept training it like his mom, dear sweet Meadowshade had asked. Such a mommy's boy. Speaking of... Meadowshade was an apprentice when they formed Nettleclan... he never had the chance to ask what clan she came from, because she wasn't from Downyclan.

Perhaps Quietclan? If so, she had no reaction to The Quiet's Slaughter. All those poor cats... Murmurstar or whatever she was called never showed up for any of the gatherings, it was only ever Ospreyhaven, the medicine cat and Heatharch, the mediator. Eventually even those two stopped appearing, being replaced by a skinny kittypet named Tabbytha, apparently she was made deputy. Rainflick held no ill will against human's pets, but it was clear that the shecat wasn't fit for the job. Rainflick didn't blame Mothleaf for leaving. He never blamed anyone.

Speaking of Mothleaf, she'll be ecstatic to find out Rainflick keeps being visited by ghosts in his dreams. At least, he thinks that's what's happening. They're weird, he's always warm in them, and feels as if he's falling. He's never able to land, before being woken up with a startle. It's nothing he can't deal with, but Billowspot always looks at him weird when those dreams happen, which seem to come and go like water.

~💖~

Billowspot called him for patrol, one chilly evening, along with Lavenderstep (a former loner who was good friends with Juniperstar before forming Nettleclan) and Badgerpatch. Every cat had to patrol, kept the mind sharp and the body healthy. That was present in every clan, not just Nettleclan. Billowspot wanted to bring everyone for sparing, just off the coast.

Learning to use the water as your ally in a fight, even leading attackers closer to the beach, was vital in Nettleclan fighting. Lavenderstep and Billowspot were the attackers, while Badgerpatch and Rainflick were going to be the ones ambushed in the mallow field.

"... Badgerpatch, do you ever dream?" Rainflick made small talk as Billowspot and Lavenderstep headed to plan their attack. Badgerpatch stretched out his chubby hind legs and sighed.

"Well, not too awful cert'n. I only ever dream of cats I knew from b'fore I joined the clans, my old home... did I ever tell you me and Jupitermask were neighbors?" Badgerpatch flopped over and purred, getting his pelt nice and smelly. Rainflick sat down, and started grooming out the mats from the dense furred tom. Poor guy was apparently bred with the idea of having nice, thick fur.

"I... guess that makes sense. I meant more of... Starclan, or- or your ancestors. Do you think you get... dreams from them?" Rainflick spat out a clump of fur that was too tight and had to be chewed off.

"Nah, I don't. I'm not a huge believer 'n stuff like that, no offense, so I don't see why they'd want to send ol' me anything important. Ain't that what Perch an' Mothleaf are for?" Rainflick rested his nose in Badgerpatch's belly as he thought, deeply.

"I... suppose that's right. They're the ones most connected to Starclan- most if not all Herbalists have some form of attachment or way of communing... I just... have strange dreams, is all. My sleep is... fraught with the feeling of falling through air, and... well, not to speak of the dead as if I knew them well, but that's how two of our dearly departed have gone. Pebblespeck, that poor darling, he fell... and Longriver... dear sweet Longriver..." Rainflick sighed and shook his long snout out. "I shan't. You get the point. I just... feel as if it has to mean something. Perhaps I'm looking in the wrong perspective." Badgerpatch hummed, deep, and made Rainflick shiver with warmth.

"Y'might be onto somethin'. Maybe it could be Pebblespeck askin' to be buried next ta Long'n? Don't know if that's possible, heard there ain't no way out once yer inside one 'a them caves." Badgerpatch stretched his front legs and allowed Rainflick to detangle the fur in his armpits, then under his colorful collar. Rainflick pulled away, a long strand of fur sticking to his tongue, and scanned the horizon.

"Unless we get a metalworker and a lot of courage, than it'll be impossible. I doubt that's what they're asking, anyhow. My dreams... they're black, no seeing. Only feeling. They also feel warm... not hot, or burning... just.... warm."

He saw a splash of bright ginger against the blue-grey sky, and felt excitement prickle his paws. "Quick, Billowspot and Lavenderstep are making a move. You get closer to the water while I lure them there!"