The clerics breathe easy for a bit as Leathermask, Waspdawn, and Vasco all leave their care. Still, Troutpool has to explain to Midnightpaw that his eyesight is failing and may worsen over the moons. At least he can somewhat see.
[Image ID: Vasco, Waspdawn, and Leathermask wander off in the background while Troutpool talks to Midnightpaw. Under Vasco and Waspdawn, it says - CONDITION: YELLOWCOUGH (X2). Under Leathermask, it says - CONDITION: TORN PELT. In the foreground, Midnightpaw has scars over his left eye, turning it white and blind. Under him, it reads - CONDITION: DAMAGED EYES, + PERMANENT CONDITION: FAILING EYESIGHT, + NEW SKILL: CONFIDENT WITH WORDS.]
(Vasco: 15, female, Witch Hunter, lonesome, great kitsitter)
(Waspdawn: 70, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)
(Leathermask: 52, male, warrior, confident, good fighter, eloquent speaker)
(Troutpool: 65, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sight, good climber)
The frostbite Weevilsight sustained has left its mark on her face, making her feel odd compared to other clerics.
[Image ID: Anchovystrike stands in front of Weevilsight, who has frostbite scars on her face. He growls at Spikecrash, "The scars make my mate look more like herself, not some murderous coward. Morningpaw should know better!" Spikecrash replies tactfully, "Morningpaw meant nothing by the Autumnstar comment." Under Weevilsight, it says - CONDITION: FROSTBITE.]
(Spikecrash: 79, female, mediator, wise, good speaker, lore keeper)
(Anchovystrike: 39, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)
(Weevilsight: 39, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
Darkkick welcomes Rapidleaf to the elder’s den. Meanwhile, Weevilsight and Anchovystrike decide to have a litter together.
[Image ID: Rapidleaf talks to Darkkick as Weevilsight and Anchovystrike return to camp. Darkkick whispers, "I think I know where those two went…" Under Weevilsight, it says + CONDITION: PREGNANT.]
(Darkkick: 152, trans female, elder, lonesome, talented swimmer, understands nature)
(Anchovystrike: 39, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)
(Weevilsight: 39, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
Berrykit, Sunkit, and Skykit pester Gingerspring and the other clerics.
[Image ID: Berrykit, Sunkit, and Skykit all have their full kit sprites, and they all face Gingerspring, who yowls "Estherfern! Remind me not to have kits!" Estherfern, walking in the background, yowls, "I have no sympathy!" Under Berrykit, it says + NEW SKILL: LOVER OF STORIES. Under Sunkit, it says + NEW SKILL: QUICK WITTED. Under Skykit, it says + NEW SKILL: SPLASHES IN PUDDLES.]
(Berrykit: 1, male, kit, bullying, lover of stories)
(Sunkit: 1, male, kit, fearless, quick witted)
(Skykit: 1, female, kit, know-it-all, splashes in puddles)
(Gingerspring: 20, male, cleric, charismatic, human expert, good hunter)
(Estherfern: 138, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)
Thundergale is a good aunt and spends time with her sister’s kits.
[Image ID: Lightkit, Snakekit, and Fuzzykit listen to their aunt Thundergale while Goldenkit stands behind Thundergale. The kits all have their full kit sprites. Snakekit cries, "Thundergale, Goldenkit is copying you!" even though Thundergale can't hear her. Under Lightkit, it says + NEW SKILL: LOVER OF ART. Under Snakekit, it says + NEW SKILL: QUICK TO MAKE PEACE. Under Fuzzykit, it says + NEW SKILL: STARES AT FIRE. Under Goldenkit, it says + NEW SKILL: CHEWS ON STICKS.]
(Lightkit: 1, female, kit, daydreamer, lover of art)
(Snakekit: 1, female, kit, polite, quick to make peace)
(Fuzzykit: 1, male, kit, unruly, stares at fire)
(Thundergale: 36, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)
(Goldenkit: 1, male, kit, bullying, chews on sticks)
Beepaw practices battle moves with Puddlewhisper, Morningpaw, and Icepounce, but he smacks his head against debris washed on-shore and knocks himself out.
[Image ID: Morningpaw, Puddlewhisper, and Icepounce stare at a pink silhouette lying on its side in the distance, blood pooling underneath. The silhouette is really Beepaw, with + CONDITION: HEAD DAMAGE written underneath. Puddlewhisper yowls, "Careful!" in vain.]
(Morningpaw: 8, male, teacher apprentice, confident, eye for details)
(Puddlewhisper: 70, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)
(Icepounce: 14, male, teacher, adventurous, fast as the wind, natural intuition)
Although Vasco wants to return home now that she feels better, Chicorycough and Sandhollow convince her to stay, at least until the epidemic is over.
[Image ID: Sandhollow and Chicorycough speak with Vasco. Sandhollow says, "We don't know how many Rat Leaders are infecting the settlement. It would be safer to wait it out."]
(Vasco: 15, female, Witch Hunter, lonesome, great kitsitter)
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Love is not in the air this moon; Billowhaze and Wolfgaze have a huge fight over how much time Wolfgaze sets aside for their relationship and break up. Meanwhile, Yellowburst finally acts on her kithood crush toward Thundergale and fails miserably.
[Image ID: Billowhaze yowls at Wolfgaze, "How am I supposed to feel important when you're… you?" Under Billowhaze, it says - MATE: WOLFGAZE. Under Wolfgaze, it says - MATE: BILLOWHAZE. In the back, Thundergale walks away from Yellowburst.]
(Billowhaze: 37, male, historian, loyal, good kitsitter)
(Wolfgaze: 37, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)
(Thundergale: 34, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)
(Yellowburst: 33, female, caretaker, adventurous, great mediator)
Dovefur spends his vigil contemplating the true nature of Clan life and his role in the Clan. The next morning, he quietly asks Shrewflame to help him learn caretaker skills as he continues his warrior duties.
[Image ID: Dovefur is now an adult. Under him, it reads LEVEL UP! DOVEPAW → DOVEFUR, OBLIVIOUS → COMPASSIONATE, ACTIVE IMAGINATION → GREAT KITSITTER. Shrewflame says to him, "Yellowburst wanted to get out of kit sitting today… could you help?"]
(Dovefur: 12, male, warrior, compassionate, great kitsitter)
(Shrewflame: 26, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)
Midnightpaw eavesdrops on Oilstar and wonders if he will ever able to care for himself.
[Image ID: Midnightpaw listens to Oilstar and Anchovystrike while Wolverineheart approaches him from behind.]
---
Midnightpaw was starting to lose it. The bandage that always seemed to cover the left side of his face irritated his skin, leaving him perpetually scratching at his scars. He begged Anchovystrike to let him go hunting, or patrolling, or anything that would get him out of camp, but his mentor put him down at every turn, leaving him to scrape by with the teachers in camp. It was so unfair! Midnightpaw could almost hear Valleypaw in the back of his mind, chastizing him for risking the recovery of his vision over a bit of boredom. Valleypaw got to enjoy perpetual hunting and fun in StarClan, so maybe he could back off.
Yep. Midnightpaw was losing his mind.
"Thank you for collecting the ashes, Midnight," Rattlepelt purred as she scooped said ashes into a pot of water and salt. "We'll let the skins soak in this solution, then scrap off the excess hair."
"And then we use the dung?" Midnightpaw groaned, poking at the stripped hides that sat at his feet.
"Don't worry," Rattlepelt chuckled, giving Midnightpaw a lick on the head. "I won't make you clean out the dirtplace for that. The caretakers get to do that." Rattlepelt winked as she grabbed a mouse hide and dropped it in the pot.
As Rattlepelt tried to include her son in her work, Midnightpaw's eye drifted around camp. There was still no snow, even though the older cats all insisted it would come any day now. Instead, it seemed like a gray autumn, where afternoon patrols and duties attempted to squeeze color back into camp. Everyone was focused on their duties, as had been the routine since RippleClan got back into their camp. It seemed like any cat with even a whisker of skill with leatherwork was busy crafting long pelts and leather flooring, replacing whatever was still wrecked from the flood.
"We just let that sit for now," Rattlepelt sighed, dumping the last pelt into the mixture. "I won't keep you any longer, Midnightpaw."
"Please keep me longer," Midnightpaw begged, front paws pressing against Rattlepelt's shoulder. "I have nothing to do!"
"Anchovystrike still hasn't taken you on patrol?" Rattlepelt muttered. "I thought Troutpool cleared you for patrols last moon."
"That's what I told him!" Midnightpaw groaned. Rattlepelt scanned the camp, but Anchovystrike could not be seen.
"I respect how busy he must be, what with the Rat Leader issue," Rattlepelt grumbled, licking the salty, ashy solution off her paws, "but that's no excuse to delay your training. Oilstar has been taking meetings since sunhigh. You should go to her and complain."
"I can do that?" Midnightpaw gasped, gaze locking onto Oilstar's den.
"If you don't, I will," Rattlepelt promised with a huff. "There's a lot I could say to both of your mentors, if I was a younger molly."
"Both?" Midnightpaw cocked his head, bandage once more scratching his skin. Rattlepelt stiffened slightly, paw held to her tongue for a moment too long.
"I think you know what I mean," Rattlepelt sighed, setting her paw down and licking Midnightpaw's ear. "Now go see Oilstar." Midnightpaw did not, in fact, know what his mother meant, but like many things, he did not question it. Instead, he made his way toward Oilstar's den, skirting around the Clan at work.
"He's the deputy's son, Anchovystrike." Oilstar's voice drifted from the shipwreck. "She's going to notice when his mentor doesn't take him on patrol." The sound carried Anchovystrike's scent with her. Midnightpaw perked up! Oilstar was already telling his mentor off! Good! He lingered near the Shiprock, ears turned to the den. Might as well see how mad Oilstar was.
"Do you really want Midnightpaw at the river with me right now?" Anchovystrike pointed out. Midnightpaw could just make out the swish of the white-speckled tom's tail. "The clerics want me at the border, but I don't think they want Midnightpaw catching yellowcough while he's still healing."
"Mentors have taken their apprentices out in worse conditions," Oilstar huffed. "Really, Anchovystrike, you should be ashamed. You of all cats know how warriors can adapt to vision loss. Your own sister has a condition not too different from Midnightpaw."
"No, no, that's not it," Anchovystrike stammered. "That's not the whole story, I mean."
"I was a historian. You know I appreciate a good story."
"I know he's your grandson, Oilstar, but the more I look at him, the more I worry he can't handle the responsibilities of being a warrior." Wait, it wasn't about Midnightpaw's vision? The black tom grew hot.
"In what way?" Oilstar pressed.
"Even before the accident, Midnightpaw seemed… distant. He always seems just half aware of what's happening at any given moment. He struggles to pick up on hunting cues. He's surprised by the noisiest cats. And the way he's helped around camp since the flood? Someone always needs to fix his mistakes. He messes up on simple tasks. If I take him out of camp, who's to say he won't wander across the border, or into the jaws of a wolf?"
No! Midnightpaw was a good apprentice. He worked hard! He just proved Anchovystrike wrong, he helped Rattlepelt prepare hides! Although all he did was claw off excess flesh… Midnightpaw burned in the winter chill, heart pounding.
"He's an apprentice," Oilstar huffed. "He spent most of his training in recovery. He's allowed to struggle."
"It's just the way he struggles," Anchovystrike groaned. "I don't like saying this, but at this point, I'm not sure Midnightpaw could ever be a warrior."
"Eavesdropping, Midnightpaw?" Midnightpaw jumped, back arching high. Wolverineheart stood behind him, head tilted slightly, a soft purr just reaching Midnightpaw's ears. Midnightpaw blinked dumbly. Should he say yes? Was this a question he was meant to answer? What did Wolverineheart want to know? Wolverineheart's face shifted from mirth to concern as Midnightpaw stayed frozen.
"I'm only teasing you," Wolverineheart said softly. "What's wrong?"
"Do I have to be an elder?" Midnightpaw managed to gulp. Wolverineheart stood taller, sharing in Midnightpaw's dumbfounded look.
"I don't think you're quite that old," Wolverineheart chuckled, eyes avoiding Midnightpaw.
"If I can't do anything, I have to be an elder," Midnightpaw explained, voice tightening. "Isn't that how it works?" The mouth of the elder's den across camp looked like a bear's endless maw, begging Midnightpaw to step inside and slide down its gullet.
"Who do I have to yowl at?" Wolverineheart snapped, surprising Midnightpaw once more. When had the brown molly's face soured? "No matter how well your eye heals, you can still follow your dreams. If you have to retire, half this Clan would be elders. What coward told you otherwise?"
"It's not my eye," Midnightpaw gulped, panting under the sheer heat of his anxiety. "It's me. I don't…" Could he tell Wolverineheart what Anchovystrike thought of him? Midnightpaw didn't think he was inattentive, or oblivious, or dumb… but if his own mentor thought he'd kill himself on patrol, how good of a warrior could he ever be?
It was only because of Wolverineheart's sudden shift that Midnightpaw realized Oilstar and Anchovystrike were leaving the den. A flash of surprise crossed both their faces, although Midnightpaw barely understood it. If they realized he had listened to their conversation, neither cat brought it up.
"I'm glad to see you, Midnightpaw," Oilstar sighed, touching noses with her grandson. "Anchovystrike and I just got done with an important talk."
"Am I an elder now?" Midnightpaw asked. The blood spinning in his head made it hard to focus on Oilstar's words.
"No!" all three adults yowled, in varying degrees of horror.
"You'll be a warrior someday," Oilstar promised, licking Midnightpaw's ear, "even though your training will take longer. No, Anchovystrike and I decided that, with everything that has happened in recent moons, he can't take the time to be the best mentor he could be for you." Wolverineheart's bi-colored gaze hardened on Anchovystrike, who quickly pulled his eyes down. "Since Troutpool has cleared you for training again, I want to give you a different mentor."
"I'll do it," Wolverineheart interuppted, her whole body perking up.
"Oh," Oilstar gasped softly. "I'm glad to see you're enthusiastic, Wolverineheart, but I was thinking someone with more experience as a mentor, like Halibutdusk. You'll be a mother soon. I don't want to take you away from your kits."
"Whatever you think Midnightpaw needs," Wolverineheart huffed, hardening her stance, "I can give him. I would love to be a mentor. The blind can lead the blind!"
"Do I count as blind?" Midnightpaw muttered. The itch of his bandages once more became the only thing he could focus on.
"You make a good argument," Oilstar conceded with a nod. "I'll summon the Clan and make you Midnightpaw's official mentor."
Midnightpaw's thoughts swam wildly as Oilstar climbed the Shiprock. Anchovystrike said something to him—an apology?—but the words didn't pierce Midnightpaw's mind. He wasn't helpless. He could still go on adventures. He could still graduate.
(Wolverineheart: 34, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)
RippleClan wakes up to its first snowfall, but find Tallowheart, Splashtuft, and Billowhaze never returned from their nighttime hunt. They find neither sight or scent of the three toms. Estherfern can only confirm their deaths in a dream... a bad, bad dream.
[Image ID: Estherfern looks upon Tallowheart, Splashtuft, and Billowhaze, now spirits of StarClan. Estherfern yowls, "Is the All-Seeing preventing you from explaining yourselves? Say something!"]
(Estherfern: 136, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)
(Tallowheart: 38, male, historian, nervous, good swimmer)
(Splashtuft: 50, male, historian, adventurous, fast runner, student of art)
(Billowhaze: 37, male, historian, loyal, good kitsitter)
With her mother dead, Quickpaw wishes to live with her lost littermates as a historian rather than a mediator. Boughfur promises to restart her training and help her catch up to everyone else.
[Image ID: Pearbranch and Icepaw, both with adult sprites, gather around an adult Quickpaw. Under her, it reads NEW(ISH) PLAYER: QUICKPAW, 12, FEMALE, AMBITIOUS, GOOD SWIMMER. Behind the siblings, Boughfur says, "Lettucestar might not like losing a Clanmate, but he values family. He wouldn't keep you from yours."]
"I'm not going to tell anyone," Boughfur chuckled as Icepaw and Pearbranch paced around the border. "Just be honest. How often did you see her?"
"Usually every new moon," Pearbranch said, absently clawing the side of a tree.
"Pearbranch!" Icepaw whined, hopping up from where he rested.
"She said she won't tell!" Pearbranch huffed.
"Not that it matters anymore," Boughfur purred. "You'll be able to spend your first proper Longest Night together. You won't have to worry about politics anymore."
It was hard to say it would be a "proper" Longest Night, Icepaw thought. The holiday was just a few days away, and despite winter chill claiming the land, there had been no snow. Rather than trotting through snow and ice, as Icepaw's earliest memories recalled, he slipped on frosty leaves long since crumbled under the weight of passing deer. Had it been so snowless and gray when Puddlewhisper found Icepaw and Pearbranch? And now, a year later, the lost daughter was rejoining her litter.
The sunrise illuminated the gaps of the trees, making it easy to see the approaching figure. Icepaw and Pearbranch both perked their ears and tightened their chests. Quickpaw's brown eyes looked orange in the winter dawn, gleaming with hope.
"Hi," Quickpaw laughed, voice cracking with a joyful cry.
Icepaw and Pearbranch surged past Boughfur before the older historian could say a word. Pearbranch wrapped her front paws around Quickpaw, purring deeply. Icepaw pressed his head into Quickpaw's cheek. Quickpaw pulled her brother and sister close, laughing through what few sobs escaped.
"Welcome to RippleClan, Quickpaw," Boughfur said, stirring Icepaw from his blinding joy. "The Clan is excited to greet you."
"I, uh," Quickpaw gulped, collecting her breath, "I hope it wasn't hard to get Lettucestar to let me go." Pearbranch groomed Quickpaw's neck, as though trying to clean off the stench of still water and mud.
"Lettucestar might not like losing a Clanmate," Boughfur explained, "but he values family. He wouldn't keep you from yours."
"You'll be a historian in no time!" Pearbranch declared. She hesitated, however, stepping back and adding, "If you still want to switch paths, I mean."
"I do," Quickpaw sighed with a dip of her head. "I like science more than diplomacy. I'll be happier as a historian."
"That's why Oilstar asked me to meet you," Boughfur chuckled, moving close. "We discussed who would be the best choice of mentor, and Oilstar thought I would do well."
"You're Boughfur, right?" Quickpaw said. "I've spent some time with your sisters."
"You'll be my first apprentice," Boughfur chirped, adjusting the dry flowers on her pelt. "I promise, I won't treat you like a kit. You're an adult, and I want to respect that, even if you have to restart your training. I want us to be partners more than mentor and apprentice."
"I like that," Quickpaw purred. She touched noses with her new mentor, shimmering with anticipation.
"Quickpaw, Quickpaw!" Icepaw cheered, laughing. When Quickpaw gave him an odd look, he huffed, "We weren't at your apprentice ceremony! Feels right to chant your name now."
"Quickpaw, Quickpaw!" Pearbranch chanted, kneading the limp leaves. Quickpaw laughed and waved her siblings back to her side.
"Quick, Sleek, and Silent," Quickpaw chuckled as Icepaw and Pearbranch pressed into her. "Back together again."
(Boughfur: 34, female, historian, righteous, great climber)
(Pearbranch: 12, female, historian, righteous, good hunter, good storyteller)
(Quickpaw: 12, female, historian apprentice, ambitious, good swimmer)
Speaking with Quickpaw about her grief for her mother helps Honeybuzz heal from Stormjump’s death.
[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Quickpaw sit in the medicine den together. Quickpaw says, "It's hard to grieve her when everyone here hates her." Under Honeybuzz, it says - CONDITION: GRIEVING.]
---
Honeybuzz was not the right cat to introduce Longest Night to his sons. He wasn't in a particularly festive mood that year, and the kits didn't deserve to have such a great night ruined by grief and bitterness. There were plenty of clerics in RippleClan to conduct the night's religious rites. Honeybuzz could organize the medicine den. That was for the best.
While it was a snowless holiday, it was far from warm. Half the Clan stayed near the main bonfire, tucked under long pelts and in each other's embrace. Others fixed the torches along the edge of camp and muttered prayers to their respective Celestials. They traded gifts or gathered around Frostdancer, who expertly played the Gutpluck. Beekit, Morningkit, and Patchkit were with Yellowburst and Sandhollow, enjoying a wide collection of gifts from their aunt and various uncles.
Now it is important to mention that Honeybuzz was not neglected on that cold and bitter night. His gifts neatly lined his nest. His brothers each carved a leaf into a chunk of wood, a piece of art to always remind Honeybuzz that he was loved. Troutpool revealed a new mortar and pestle for the medicine den, and the other clerics each gave each other dyed mossballs. They certainly brightened the dim, empty medicine den, but the light merely swirled around Honeybuzz's heart. It had yet to penetrate.
"Hi, Honeybuzz." Honeybuzz had been cupping his cicada wing necklace in his paw, staring mindlessly at the half-preserved membrane, when Quickpaw's voice startled him back to reality. The newcomer had a new necklace around her neck, carrying two wooden charms; one a diamond, the other a foreign shape, like a small circle sitting on a larger one.
Honeybuzz must have been staring for longer than he intended, as Quickpaw glanced at her gift and said, "Oh, my siblings surprised me with this. The diamond is supposed to be a shard of ice, and this thing is shaped like a pear. They would have made something for me, but what shape represents quick? Heh."
"It's a good gift," Honeybuzz hummed. "So, what do you need?"
"I think all this socialization is giving me a headache," Quickpaw sighed, squeezing her eyes tight. "Icepaw said I could use his 'stash', whatever that means." Honeybuzz scoffed softly, flicking his ears toward the patient nests. He led Quickpaw further into the shadows.
A small jar sat inside one of the nests. While faded in the dark, Honeybuzz could see the diamond carved into the side of the terracotta. So that was the symbol's meaning…
"Icepaw spends quite a bit of time in here with his chronic headaches," Honeybuzz explained. "We decided that rather than prepare fresh medicine every time he needed it, we could give Icepaw a jar of herbs he could lick from when he came in. Gingerspring figured out what herbs best help your brother and keeps the jar stocked. Just take a tongue-ful." Honeybuzz carefully undid the leather lid, revealing a chunky powder of dandelion, feverfew, and valerian root. Quickpaw stuck her muzzle in, flinching as the pottery rubbed awkwardly against her whiskers. She licked up a dose of the medicine and pulled back, smacking her lips.
"You would think I'd be used to talking with everyone," Quickpaw sighed, glancing back toward the party. "I spent half my life training for it. This just feels different." Wait, was Quickpaw going to vent to Honeybuzz? This was far from the night where Honeybuzz could offer a kind ear.
"If you're overwhelmed," Honeybuzz sighed, sealing the jar, "I'm sure you can sleep early. You could join Puddlewhisper and your siblings. I overheard Icepaw brag about sleeping in the warrior's den tonight."
"I don't know if Puddlewhisper would really welcome me," Quickpaw groaned, taking a seat near Weevilsight's nest. And Honeybuzz only encouraged her, how wonderful. "She's been nothing but nice, but I'm not one of her kits. Nimblestep will always be my mom… but some cats might resent that."
Honeybuzz sighed. It seemed there was no hiding from the world that night. If Stormjump were around, she would have encouraged someone, anyone, to go see Honeybuzz, whether their tail was falling off or they had a cough. Could she have nudged Quickpaw Honeybuzz's way? He should help her, he was a father after all, these were the sort of things fathers should be able to work through. What if it were Patchkit asking those questions?
"I don't see how anyone could resent you for something you didn't do," Honeybuzz pointed out, taking a reluctant seat.
"I guess it's a SlugClan habit," Quickpaw sighed. "There's a belief over there that if someone avoids judgment, their children must answer in their stead. It restores power to StarClan, I think. Mom told me not to put my faith in that, but it does make me think. Should I be doing something to make up for what my mom did to RippleClan? Would I feel less guilty?" Quickpaw hid behind her whiskers as she added, "I know it doesn't make a lot of sense, but that's feelings for you."
"That all sounds like yet another tradition our founders wanted to leave behind," Honeybuzz huffed. "You are your own molly here, Quickpaw. You leave your own legacy."
"That's true," Quickpaw admitted with another glance outside. She took a big breath and said, "It's hard to grieve her when everyone here hates her."
"From Icepaw's stories," Honeybuzz sighed, "you're not one to back away from bullies." Honeybuzz rolled the orange-dyed moss-ball, made by Gingerspring, under his paw. "I'm sure if someone is selfish enough to yowl at you for grieving, you can show them who's in the wrong."
"Right once again," Quickpaw chuckled softly. "I guess that's cleric wisdom."
"Might just be Honeybuzz wisdom," Honeybuzz hummed. "Have you met Gingerspring?" Quickpaw snorted, nodding along to the harsh joke. Honeybuzz suddenly realized it was the first joke he had told since the Ocean's Assault.
"I think Icepaw's 'stash' is starting to help my headache," Quickpaw purred, stretching her flank high. "Thank you, Honeybuzz. I think I can face the crowd again. Are you going to stay in here all night?" Honeybuzz looked outside. Beekit, Morningkit, and Patchkit had left Yellowburst and Sandhollow behind in favor of trying out the large drum Rattlepelt saved from the flood. Patchkit beat awkwardly to the rhythm of Frostdancer's music.
"Perhaps I shouldn't," Honeybuzz hummed.
The light of the bonfire inched past the cold and warmed Honeybuzz's heart.
(Honeybuzz: 50, male, cleric, daring, sklled toolsmith, good teacher)
(Quickpaw: 12, female, historian apprentice, ambitious, good swimmer)
Waspdawn comes down with Vasco’s yellowcough, making the clerics, Wolfgaze, and Anchovystrike wonder if the Rat Leaders in the human settlement may grow to affect RippleClan more with their new arrivals.
[Image ID: The five clerics, Wolfgaze, and Anchovystrike gather together. Honeybuzz says, "We can’t predict what loners we’ll come across. Anchovystrike should examine all visitors for rat leaders." Waspdawn and Vasco stand in the back. Under Waspdawn, it says + CONDITION: YELLOWCOUGH.]
Pearpaw is honored for her role in the Ocean’s Assault, and gets her historian name early; Pearbranch.
[Image ID: Pearpaw is now Pearbranch! Under her, it reads LEVEL UP! PEARPAW → PEARBRANCH, MOSS-BALL HUNTER → GOOD HUNTER, LOVER OF STORIES → GOOD STORYTELLER.]
(Pearbranch: 10, female, historian, righteous, good hunter, good storyteller)
Honeybuzz fiercely grieves his mate. Mitespark has to stop him from attacking Yarrowclaw.
[Image ID: Honeybuzz tries to attack Yarrowclaw, but Mitespark stands between them. Honeybuzz yowls, "You should have saved them first!" Under him, it reads + CONDITION: GRIEVING.]
(Honeybuzz: 48, male, cleric, daring, sklled toolsmith, good teacher)
(Mitespark: 42, female, artisan, charismatic, great mediator)
(Yarrowclaw: 35, female, warrior, cold, fire master)
As the Clan rebuilds, Oilstar decides to bless Yarrowclaw’s heroism by giving her an honor title; Floodsplash!
[Image ID: Oilstar and Tallowheart approach Yarrowclaw, now Floodsplash. Oilstar says, " You trusted StarClan's vision and saved your Clanmates. If that isn't worthy of an honor title, what is?" Under Floodsplash, it says LEVEL UP! YARROWCLAW → FLOODSPLASH.]
---
It took two days before the five Clans could converge on RippleClan's camp and clear out the last of the floodwaters. And yes, it was five Clans working on the camp, not one. Despite the conflicts of the past year, the other four leaders stood with Oilstar, sending their warriors to restore RippleClan's ruined medicine stores and broken dens. AshClan artisans helped RippleClan carve their first leader and deputy once more into fresh sculptures, with shiny and bright paint from LynxClan. RippleClan caretakers each led a team to clean out their assigned dens, moving broken planks and seaweed and scavenging the old leather floors.
Somehow the human long pelt in the elder's den survived the storm, clumped into a corner. It now laid in the heart of camp with a dozen cats resting on it, trying to find some sense of normalcy, their salt-crusted paws kneading into the sun-warmed material. Most of those cats were RippleClan. Their legs shook from the cleaning efforts. Their muscles burned. They couldn't help anymore, no matter how much they insisted they should. That was what Yarrowclaw kept telling herself as she laid with her belly up, staring at the cascading layers of clouds above.
Yarrowclaw wanted to sleep. She wanted to rest. She knew her mind and heart needed it, perhaps more than the majority of her Clanmates. But the liar in her head kept saying she didn't need rest. She felt fine. If she wasn't tired, she should help. She shouldn't let the other Clans do everything. She was the one who saved the day. Yarrowclaw groaned and flipped onto her stomach, throwing her paws over her head. Could her thoughts please be quiet?
Even those with able bodies could not work. Rattlepelt, Wildclaw, Shrewflame, Whiteflower, and Midnightpaw (once again wearing a tight, dry bandage) sat around Troutpool as the senior cleric softly explained that while Valleypaw's body may never be found, his spirit was sitting with them right now, and he would protect his brothers and mothers no matter where he was. Paleseed worked with a WheatClan mediator in front of the repaired nursery, coaxing Honeybuzz and Stormjump's sons back inside, promising the den couldn't hurt them. Honeybuzz was nowhere to be found. Spikecrash spoke softly with Venturedapple, sharing the horror of Stormjump's body floating in the nursery.
Yes, Stormjump. At least the Clan had her body for the vigil. Only StarClan knew where Valleypaw was washed to. Stormjump now rested beside Littlekit. Yet Yarrowclaw was the hero who saved her mate and escorted everyone out of the medicine. She helped save Stormjump's kits.
It was the best day of Yarrowclaw's life.
It was the worst day of Yarrowclaw's life.
Yarrowclaw stood, shuffling the human long pelt as she moved. Currentsmoke and Yellowburst stumbled up to the crowd of resting cats, relieved of duty for the moment. Yarrowclaw scuttled off the long pelt and gave the pair a place to fall. As the caretakers closed their eyes, Yarrowclaw remembered to breath. Maybe she could take up whatever task Currentsmoke and Yellowburst broke away from? Or she could help prepare a meal for all the hardworking cats who came to RippleClan's aid? The possibilites buzzed in Yarrowclaw's head.
"Yarrowclaw." Oilstar slipped out of the leader's den with Tallowheart at her side. Despite the storm making his ribs worse, the injured historian didn't seem in much pain. Yarrowclaw allowed herself to hold the sudden pride in her chest close. She made sure Oilstar did not lose her son. No matter the circumstances, Yarrowclaw could take pride in that… right?
"Anything you need from me, Oilstar?" Yarrowclaw asked, sitting at attention.
"I was talking with my son here," Oilstar purred, gently touching her nose to Tallowheart's cheek as she spoke, "and Tallowheart had an excellent idea. I thought I would get your opinion first before I called a Clan meeting, though." Yarrowclaw tilted her head. "It's your idea, Tallow. Go ahead."
"If you hadn't come to the medicine den," Tallowheart explained, dipping his head in humility, "the waves might have taken me. You saved my life, Midnightpaw's life, and probably all the clerics too."
"I was just following the vision Estherfern gave me," Yarrowclaw muttered. "If StarClan knew I wouldn't die, I had to keep others alive."
"It was incredible," Tallowheart purred. He flinched as his purr shifted his broken ribs, but he dug through the pain. "We're calling it the Ocean's Assault, and you're the hero of that story. Because of that, I suggested to my mom that she give you an honor title." What?
"What," Yarrowclaw said.
"I don't want to change your name if you don't want this," Oilstar added. "Still, I think you deserve it. You trusted StarClan's vision and saved your Clanmates. If that isn't worthy of an honor title, what is?"
"What would you call me?" Yarrowclaw said. Her words came before her thoughts.
"Floodsplash," Oilstar purred. Fire burned behind Yarrowclaw's eyes. It was a fire that torched her fur and melted her bones, yet she couldn't step out of it. She didn't have to think about it. She couldn't think about it. She couldn't imagine regret or caution, even though she knew, deep down, something screamed at her to just stay normal.
"I love it," Floodsplash said.
(Floodsplash: 35, female, warrior, cold, fire master)
(Tallowheart: 36, male, historian, nervous, good swimmer)
Floodsplash takes her brothers on patrol, hoping one of them would understand, only for them to start fighting.
[Image ID: Floodsplash listens as Anchovystrike, Currentsmoke, and Billowhaze argue, not paying attention to her. Speech bubbles with a mass of tangled swirls surround the trio of toms.]
Author's Note: this passage features discussion of mental illness and self-harm not typically seen in RippleClan's Promise. Reader's discretion is advised.
---
Sandhollow said it was good. Sandhollow said no matter how much Floodsplash's mind fluttered from maddening highs to strange, slugging lows, she could still deserve praise. She could still be honored as a hero and not fly away, never to land. After all, she did do something grand, she didn't imagine the vision, she was special on that grim day.
Floodsplash was a fly drowning in honey, its final moments consumed in unimaginable sweetness and bliss.
RippleClan had to harvest more of their herbs from the garden than the caretakers wanted if they hoped to restock the medicine den and prepare for winter. Floodsplash formed a patrol with her brothers, each burdened with large baskets, to harvest whatever they could. Brilliant red leaves fertilized the garden, hiding the medicine-rich roots and stems RippleClan needed. Paws crinkled and shoved the leaves aside in a soothing, quiet song. The littermates set their baskets at the garden's edge.
"Don't worry too much about seeds and replanting," Currentsmoke advised his littermates as they searched the garden rows for fully grown plants. "Me and the rest of the caretakers can get what we need out of what we harvest."
"We have fennel, burdock, chicory, mallow…" Floodsplash muttered, trotting from row to row. "We just use burdock roots, don't we? Let's leave the leaves, I know you said we don't need to worry about replanting, but why take what we don't need? Chicory, that's largely the roots too, right? We can probably do the same." Stars damn it, she was rambling again.
"Weevil taught me the best way to harvest the fennel," Anchovystrike chirped. "I'll handle that!" Anchovystrike ran a paw down a tall fennel stalk.
"Be careful of the year-old plants!" Currentsmoke warned as he dug at the burdock roots. Anchovystrike simply nodded and sliced his claw through the fronds and leaves. Billowhaze cupped his paw under a mallow flower, peering into the soft petals.
The littermates worked in silence, save for Floodsplash's gentle muttering. She couldn't stop the onslaught of words that tumbled out as she danced through the garden. The more she spoke, even at a whisper, the more her thoughts grew fuzzy.
She shouldn't have been working.
"Valleypaw was so excited to work in the garden," Billowhaze muttered, snapping Floodsplash back to reality before she dug through a chicory root. Currentsmoke and Anchovystrike paused in their work.
Valleypaw. Maybe it wasn't too late. Floodsplash would survive the flood, she would survive anything involving the flood, right? That's how the vision worked. There could be a ritual. If she found Valleypaw's body, maybe she could put his soul back. Wasn't that possible? She would swim out to sea and drag it back. She would—Floodsplash's heart spasmed. No. No no no no no. Not again. That wasn't true, that wouldn't work. But with StarClan—NO! Floodsplash's claws pierced the chicory root.
"Asterblaze should never have sent him out of camp," Anchovystrike sighed. He placed a pawful of fennel into the basket sitting next to him.brought a mouthful of fennel to his basket near Currentsmoke.
"None of us knew that wave was coming, Anchovystrike," Currentsmoke whined softly, pushing aside a burdock root. "It would have been Asterblaze if it hadn't been Valleypaw."
"He was Valleypaw's mentor," Anchovystrike snapped. He spat out a clingy frond of fennel. "He had a responsibility to keep him safe. He's barely mourned him!"
"That's not fair," Currentsmoke huffed, facing his brother. "Asterblaze has been wearing himself down to rebuild the camp. Of course he's mourning Valleypaw."
"Since when have you been so against Asterblaze?" Billowhaze added, stepping away from his work.
"I'm just saying, he should have taken the more dangerous job," Anchovystrike grumbled with a thrash of his tail. "It's… we don't even have his body to mourn! Can you imagine how Midnightpaw feels right now? All I did was make a comment and suddenly everyone feels the need to defend Asterblaze. Let's go back to work." No, let's not. Floodsplash needed to stop. The crumbled remains of the chicory root rested in front of her.
"Anchovystrike…" Currentsmoke groaned, whiskers twitching awkwardly. "Are you sure you're talking about Asterblaze here? Maybe you're…. talking about yourself, too?" Anchovystrike's tail fluffed up, high and shivering.
"Yes, and I don't even know why we're arguing about this," Anchovystrike groaned. "It's all so dumb! I just made a stupid comment, and now you're saying that taking my apprentice hunting is as bad as sending him out in a flood!"
"It was an accident!" Billowhaze and Currentsmoke yowled at once.
"I need help," Floodsplash said. Her mouth was dry. Maybe she could stop their arguing by climbing up a tree and jumping into them, that would shut them up. How selfish were they? Was Floodsplash the only one still doing her work? For StarClan's sake, could one of them listen to her?
"Everything's an accident, everything's on purpose," Anchovystrike hissed, bobbing side to side with emphasis. "I've been fixing the dens non-stop since we got back into camp, maybe I, I want someone to blame! Who else am I going to blame, Yar—I mean Floodsplash? She actually saved lives, Aster—"
"I'm going to kill myself!" Floodsplash shrieked. There. That got her brothers' attention. Their eyes snapped on her like hunters upon a foaming rabbit. Floodsplash panted like she ran across all five Clans. He skin burned and the buzzing in her head clawed at her good eye. She let her mouth go. "I don't trust myself, and I don't want to do anything to myself, so I need you to shut up and help me get home."
Floodsplash sat. Or perhaps she fell. She couldn't tell.
"Alright," Billowhaze choked out, voice as dry as Floodsplash's mouth. "Alright, we… we have plans for this." He glanced at Anchovystrike and Currentsmoke. All three toms had deep shadows over their faces. "Uh… do you…"
"I don't know what's true right now," Floodsplash warned. She sank slowly. A familiar feral panic gripped her chest. "I need to use my powers and help the Clan. I don't have powers, I can't have powers, I can't be special. I'm going to get myself killed. Why did Estherfern tell me about that star-damned vision?" Currentsmoke nuzzled Floodsplash, whimpering deeply.
"I don't know what to tell you," Anchovystrike muttered. Billowhaze gently nudged Floodsplash back to her paws. Her feet burned.
"I know your mind takes things too far," Currentsmoke whined, "but you can still be important."
"I don't want to die," Floodsplash cried. She should have died in the flood. It didn't make sense that she didn't. Why did it have to be her?
But Floodsplash wasn't going to die. For once, that wasn't mania whispering tempting tales of invulnerability. Billowhaze and Currentsmoke pressed against either side of her, baskets abandoned. Anchovystrike led them back toward camp. Floodsplash let herself stumble into her brothers.
It was tempting to call her own mind a battlefield, her condition a war. It certainly felt as deadly at times. Yet her brothers were not warriors at her side, and, as Sandhollow would soon tell Floodsplash while setting up a nest in the medicine den, she couldn't fight herself.
With her brothers' aid, all Floodsplash had to do was weather the floodwaters.
(Floodsplash: 35, female, warrior, cold, fire master)
(Currentsmoke: 35, male, caretaker, loving, good climber, inventor and innovator)
Even though all Midnightpaw wants to do is sleep, Anchovystrike encourages Midnightpaw to hunt at night. Unfortunately, Anchovystrike encourages Midnightpaw to catch what turns out to be a porcupine, which badly slashes Midnightpaw's left eye.
[Image ID: Anchovystrike and Midnightpaw stalk a bush of red berries, but the back half of a porcupine sticks out of it. Under Midnightpaw, it reads + CONDITION: DAMAGED EYES.]
On his first proper day out of the nursery, Beekit bruises himself by hitting the rocks bordering camp. He still has fun, though.
[Image ID: Beekit, who looks just like his dad, trots back to Patchkit and Morningkit, who have grown into full kit sprites and have blue and yellow-green eyes, respectively. Morningkit cheers, "Do it again!" Under Beekit, it reads + NEW SKILL: QUICK TO HELP, + CONDITION: BRUISES. Under Patchkit, it reads + NEW SKILL: INTERESTED IN CLAN HISTORY. Under Morningkit, it reads + NEW SKILL: EYE FOR DETAILS. Billowhaze and Stormjump watch them from the back, with Billowhaze saying, "Your son has a skull made of rock."]
(Beekit: 1, male, kit, noisy, quick to help)
(Patchkit: 1, male, kit, charming, interested in Clan history)
(Morningkit: 1, male kit, bossy, eye for details)
(Billowhaze: 33, male, historian, loyal, good kitsitter)
While patrolling the horse path, Oilstar and Carnationspeckle see humans throw a sack out of a monster.
[Image ID: Oilstar and Carnationspeckle approach a long-furred lilac cat wit heather blue eyes and a white spot on their chest and tail. The cat stands at the side of a road. They yowl, "Don't expt me to—*cough*—crawl back home to you!" Under them, it reads NEW PLAYER: INDIGO, 38, HALF TOM (HE/THEY), PLAYFUL, INCREDIBLE RUNNER, GREAT TEACHER, + CONDITION: YELLOWCOUGH.]
---
Harvest Moon always left the five Clans exhausted. Whether that exhaustion stemmed from celebrating from sunrise to the depths of the night, or from warding off the Spirits of Shadow that breached the living world, Harvest Moon sent every cat, young and old, back to their dens asleep on their paws. No one ever wanted to take the first patrol after Harvest Moon. Yet, because of this, it made the perfect opportunity for Oilstar to take her mate on a romantic outing.
Technically, Oilstar and Carnationspeckle were marking the southern border, but the truth of the patrol was obvious to even the youngest kit. In full honesty, they barely made it to the southern reaches of the territory before they both found a quiet spot to enjoy one another.
The two mates curled among the early autumn leaves, bathed in a warm morning glow. The sparce trees of the southern territory stood around them like silent guards, protecting their love. Oilstar dug her face into Carnationspeckle's chest. Carnationspeckle laughed at her mate's sweet touch. She shifted and licked Oilstar's belly. Oilstar wrapped herself further around Carnationspeckle.
"It's been too long since we did this," Oilstar purred, speaking into the soft fluff of Carnationspeckle's flank.
"You're in the leader's den now," Carnationspeckle pointed out. She rested her chin on Oilstar's soft belly. "We can have privacy whenever we want."
"And have our kits and grandkits tease us the whole time?" Oilstar laughed. "No, no. I like finding quiet spots with you. I like stepping away from the Clan for a while. Even StarClan gives us privacy here." Oilstar nuzzled hard under Carnationspeckle's chin, earning another deep laugh.
"Well, if that's how it is," Carnationspeckle hummed. She untangled herself from Oilstar and gazed southward. The pair could see the horse path from where they laid, outlined by the deep marks of the monsters that harrassed horses onwards. "Hmm… no strangers in sight. I think that's a successful patrol."
"You know, we still have to mark it," Oilstar cooed as Carnationspeckle relaxed beside her once more.
"I know," Carnationspeckle whined playfully. "But surely that gives us more private time, doesn't it?"
"Maybe I should have made you deputy," Oilstar hummed. She licked her mate's ear.
"Not the place for me," Carnationspeckle said. She tucked herself further against Oilstar's belly. "This is."
Oilstar rested her chin on Carnationspeckle. She gazed out at the human barns far beyond the territory. Their autumn crops swayed in a gentle breeze. Oilstar wondered if this was what life in StarClan was like; curled up beside those you love, taking in all the beauty the world can offer. If it was, Oilstar would be happy to die some day.
A monster trotted down the horse path from the west. The horse attached to the strange contraption batted at flies with its tail in a shockingly undisturbed manner. Oilstar would have to ask Venturedapple or some other former kittypet what it was like to sit on top of one of those monsters, with its impossibly warped wood and the humans guiding it along. Had any of them been in the den-like monsters with sturdy woven walls?
Oilstar expected the monster and its horse to pass them by, following the horse path as it curved southward down the coast toward places unknown. Yet, to Oilstar's surprise, the monster slowed. The human guiding the monster onward pulled at the ropes holding the horse in place, forcing it to a stop. The human's gangly paw grabbed a leather sack sitting at their side. Something inside the sack squirmed and smacked against the sides, fighting for dear life. The muffled shriek of a cat pulled Carnationspeckle out from under her mate. Both mollies watched as the human threw the sack just off the horse path. The form inside seized and scrambled for the sack's wide mouth.
"There's a cat in there!" Carnationspeckle gasped as the human on the monster grabbed their horse's ropes once more. They flicked the ropes, making the horse cry out. The trapped beast continued its former trot along the path, unaffected by the screeching cat on the path's side.
"Let's hurry," Oilstar huffed, running down the hillside. Carnationspeckle ran alongside her.
As the monster crawled away, a lilac paw plunged out of the leather sack's opening. A wild furred face pulled itself into the sunlight. It was a long-furred lilac tom with a dark leather collar firmly tied around his neck. His blue eyes were watery and his nose was smeared with mucus.
"Cowards!" the tom yowled at the retreating monster. "Don't expect me to—" the tom coughed violently, seizing forward with the intensity of it all. Carnationspeckle flinched back as she and Oilstar got close to the path. The tom choked out through his coughing fit, "—crawl back to you!"
"Oilstar, be careful," Carnationspeckle whispered. "We don't know what he has."
"I have lives to spare," Oilstar assured her mate. As the RippleClan cats drew closer, the kittypet's fury turned toward the collar around his neck. He flung his paws underneath the collar and fell on his side. He pulled at the well-tanned material, getting strands of his own fur caught in his claws. The collar pressed against his throat.
"Stop, stop!" Carnationspeckle yowled. "You'll choke yourself!" The tom pulled his paws back out and gasped for air. Another coughing fit raked his body. He coughed so hard that he threw up on the edge of the path. Oilstar and Carnationspeckle stopped a few tail-lengths away until the tom finally regained his breath.
"You…" the tom gulped, "you might not want to get close. Yellowcough."
"Who are you?" Oilstar asked, putting on her newly discovered leader's voice.
"They named me Indigo," said the kittypet. "I doubt I'll keep that name considering they threw me away!" Indigo hissed at what little could still be seen of the monster, only to cough again.
"Your humans abandon you just because you're sick?" Carnationspeckle gasped.
"A lot of cats are sick right now," Indigo groaned. "I guess they didn't want to catch what I have."
"I'm Oilstar, leader of RippleClan," Oilstar said. "This is my mate, Carnationspeckle. We have clerics who can treat yellowcough. We can offer you food and shelter while you recover."
"RippleClan," Indigo chuckled. He rubbed his soiled face on the grass. "The Witch Hunters told me about you. Some trade agreement, right?"
"Are you a Witch Hunter?" Carnationspeckle gulped. Oilstar could feel Carnationspeckle's hackles rise at the thought of her former kidnappers.
"Just a cat who lived under their rule," Indigo assured her. "They asked me to give them a blanket from my human's house to trade with you once. They could get some tools from you, I think. Hope you put it to good use." A blanket? Oilstar tried to remember some of the strange kittypet words she'd learned in her interactions with the Witch Hunters.
"The human long pelt," Oilstar realized. "Was it the one with the blue and tan stripes? Yes, we still have that! We actually use it to line the floor of our elder's den. Our elders love it. Thank you, Indigo." Oilstar's thanks were interuppted by another coughing fit. "Carnationspeckle, can you hurry back to camp? See if Honeybuzz or Gingerpaw can prepare a nest in the quarantine den for Indigo here. We'll see you there."
"Don't get sick," Carnationspeckle ordered Oilstar, touching noses with her. Carnationspeckle's tail brushed against Oilstar as she stepped away. She ran across the rolling land with the speed of a cat far younger and all the beauty Oilstar adored.
"I won't say no to help," Indigo groaned, stumbling toward Oilstar.
"Lean on me if you need to," Oilstar said. She walked slow beside Indigo, eyeing his bile-stained mouth. This certainly wasn't how she expected to spend a day out with her mate, but she supposed the duties of a leader were never done.
The walk back to camp was ridiculously slow, as Indigo had to stop and cough more than a few times. Oilstar worried he'd collapse before they got to the shipwreck, but luckily the camp came into view soon enough. Indigo stared at the mighty shipwreck, just as so many loners and kittypets before him did when they first graced the camp.
"I've met shipcats before," Indigo muttered, "but I've never been so close to a real ship."
"We had a shipcat living with us for a while," Oilstar hummed. "His name was Washington. He taught us a lot about what this ship might have been like when it sailed the sea." There was a sparkle in Indigo's eyes that fought through his exhaustion. Oilstar's whiskers twitched in mirth as she led the way into camp.
Most of the Clan was still in camp, recovering from the previous night's grand celebration. Yet their attention was still on the entrance, waiting for the newcomer Carnationspeckle had warned them about. Indigo's head bounced from den to den. Strength filled his paws. Yet sadly, Oilstar could not show the kittypet around quite yet. Instead, they looped past the medicine den, toward the dirt place, and into the quarantine den. Inside, Carnationspeckle and Troutpool were fixing a nest. Troutpool's ears perked as her other mother arrived.
"You must be the tomcat my mother told me about," Troutpool purred. "Here, why don't you rest?"
"You're half right," Indigo groaned, eagerly crawling into the mossy nest. "I'm more of a half tom. You know, he and they?"
"We'll remember that," Oilstar said. "Troutpool here is our senior cleric. She and the other clerics will do their best to treat your yellowcough. That way, once you've recovered, you can decide where you go from here. I know you don't want to find your humans."
"What I really want is to get this collar off," Indigo whined, pawing at their neck.
"There's a way to remove it without destroying it, if you want," Carnationspeckle pointed out.
"I want it cut into tiny pieces so I can dance on them," Indigo huffed. "I'm never wearing a collar again."
"I can't stand the feeling of leather." Oilstar almost jumped at Scaleripple's voice. The fluffy cream-colored tom stood silently behind her, watching Indigo.
"Scaleripple, you can meet Indigo in due time," Oilstar sighed. "They're sick and exhausted. Let them rest."
"How can I rest in a place like this?" Indigo groaned, waving at the wooden walls. "This camp is like nothing I've ever seen! And it's all been built by cats! Well, not the ship, but… you know what I mean. I want to know everything about RippleClan."
"I can teach you," Scaleripple said. He walked past Oilstar, either purposefully or forgetfully ignoring her instructions. "I'm a teacher. It's my job."
"That's not a bad idea," Troutpool said. "If we're going to take care of Indigo, he should know a bit about us."
"If they feel strong enough…" Oilstar muttered.
"What's a teacher?" Indigo barely finished their question before another awful coughing fit overtook their lungs. Yellow phelgm stained the leather floor.
"That's definetely yellowcough," Troutpool muttered. "I'm going to get you some mullein immediately, but it will take a bit of time to prepare more medicine for you."
"Scaleripple can keep me company," Indigo coughed. "You don't seem too scared of yellowcough, after all. So, what's a teacher?" Scaleripple sat beside Indigo while Troutpool slipped off to prepare her medicine.
"We teach the Clan how to do things," Scaleripple explained. "We help apprentices with their training and teach warriors new skills. We teach cats about RippleClan. We teach artisans how to hunt and codekeepers how to tan leather. If you want to learn, you can speak with a teacher."
"I want to do that," Indigo gasped, eyes sparkling.
"You do?" Oilstar said. "We don't want to force you into our Clan, Indigo."
"You're not forcing me," Indigo huffed. "My humans threw me out and my friends gave me yellowcough. You actually want to help. Why wouldn't I want to learn about you?"
"If you want to join RippleClan," Carnationspeckle laughed, "we can tell you about the other jobs we have. I'm a caretaker, for example."
"I'm good," Indigo chuckled, coughing through his humor. "Save my life, and I'll be the best teacher you've ever seen."
"We've only had four," Scaleripple said in monotone.
"I like you!" Indigo laughed, batting Scaleripple's shoulder. The cream-colored tom tensed, but did not run away.
Well then. It seemed Harvest Moon had one last surprise for RippleClan.
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The first thing Whitepaw asks to do after being apprenticed to Billowhaze is to collect moss, shocking his mentor.
[Image ID: Whitepaw is now an apprentice. Under him, it reads LEVEL UP! WHITEKIT → WHITEPAW, SKITTISH → NERVOUS.]
(Whitepaw: 6, male, historian apprentice, nervous, active imagination)
Lightningrunner is murdered.
[Image ID: Whitepaw and Shrewflame hurry to Leathermask, Vervaincough, and Puddlewhisper.]
---
While Whitepaw couldn't claim to be as self-assured and skilled as his older brother, or as respected and proud as his adopted mothers, he certainly tried to live up to them. He would groom his long, wild fur and make sure his elders knew he was listening, ears locked and unmoving on them. He would keep an eye on Gingerkit and Frostkit, even though the caretakers insisted it was their job to mind them and Whitepaw could enjoy his last days of kithood. He would make sure he wasn't under anyone's paws or bothering anyone as they worked. There was a lot to do, a lot to protect, and all Whitepaw seemed good at was coming up with new games to pass the time until his ceremony.
Things should have been better with his apprenticeship. He should have found a way to support the Clan that immediately offered their love and support. He should have focused on his new studies, tackling Billowhaze's lessons on science and history with the same fire Shrewflame had in his apprenticeship. He should have been a good apprentice.
None of this should have happened.
Whitepaw seemed to carry the entire beach on his half-wet pelt as he ran after Shrewflame. He looked more cream than white. Even through Shrewflame's legs were equally soaked, the sand didn't slow him down. He bounded toward the shipwreck with an unmatched speed. Whitepaw, meanwhile, struggled to feel his legs. The waves smacked into the shore with a consistent, drum-like beat that pounded deeper and deeper into Whitepaw's head. The water ate the dusting of snow that shrouded the rest of RippleClan territory. The writhing tides ate the sunlight while the snow beyond the shore reflected it onto Whitepaw's back.
"Shrewflame, wait," Whitepaw begged, stumbling over his own paws. "I, I can't keep up!" Shrewflame danced to a stop and turned back to his younger brother. Whitepaw panted, falling back on his flank. He tried to groom the matted sand off his legs, but the dark tan flecks seemed to tangle in his long fur. The salty water stung his mouth and the sand irritated his skin. His tongue raked harder and harder through his pelt, but he couldn't get clean. The weight of it all pulled him deeper into the sand.
"Whitepaw," Shrewflame said softly as Whitepaw whined. It wouldn't come off! "Whitepaw, listen, everything will be alright. I promise you."
"How?" Whitepaw gulped, coughing on sand. "You can't promise anything. You don't know what'll happen next."
"I'm going to keep you safe," Shrewflame huffed. He rested a paw on Whitepaw's head, knocking his tongue away from his obsessive grooming. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Whitepaw. Trust me." Whitepaw nodded without thinking. Shrewflame touched his nose to Whitepaw's head. Whitepaw forced himself to breathe. It was only when Whitepaw could stand still before his brothee that Shrewflame stepped back and continued on the path to RippleClan's camp.
"Don't panic the Clan," Shrewflame warned as he and Whitepaw approached the camp entrance, guarded by Currentsmoke. "Let me handle this." Whitepaw nodded once more. He shivered as he passed through the thorny walls of the entrance. Currentsmoke eyed his soaked, sandy pelt. Shrewflame let his brother enter first, glancing north the way they came.
Whitepaw waited by the camp entrance for Shrewflame, below the stove where Rabbitjoy and Ravenweaver debated what to serve for the sunhigh meal. He could feel eyes on him; Asterblaze and Drumtooth glanced at him while they crafted more tooth-sticks, and Rapidleaf nudged Carnationspeckle from her work fortifying the camp walls as Shrewflame joined Whitepaw. Over by the Shiprock, Puddlewhisper sat with Leathermask and Vervaincough. They seemed focused on their conversation. Shrewflame jogged toward them, Whitepaw hot on his heels. Puddlewhisper's ear perked at the pair's approach.
"Shrewflame?" Puddlewhisper said, cocking her other ear. "What's with that face? I thought you were sparring with Lightningrunner at Battle Beach."
"What happened to you?" Vervaincough asked, peering at Whitepaw's sandy legs.
"Estherfern is with Lightningrunner," Shrewflame whispered, sticking his head in the middle of the three cats. "We need codekeepers. Right now." Leathermask's eyes slowly widened. Puddlewhisper's claws poked into the sand. Vervaincough's breath caught.
"What happened?" Leathermask gulped.
"Just come on," Shrewflame muttered, flicking his tail back to the exit. "Do you want to start a riot or start investigating?"
"Take me to my sister," Puddlewhisper snapped, jumping to her paws. Shrewflame started back to the exit with Puddlewhisper beside him. Leathermask and Vervaincough hurried to follow while Whitepaw scrambled to catch up with his brother.
"Whitepaw, stay here," Shrewflame sighed as Asterblaze and Drumtooth left their task and stalked toward the tense group. "You don't need to go back there. Someone should stay here to explain."
"I want to stay with you," Whitepaw whined softly.
"Just tell them what they need to know," Shrewflame said, straightening up under the growing attention of the Clan. "You'll be alright." Shrewflame didn't wait to finish talking; he continued onto the exit. Nervous energy propelled Puddlewhisper, Vervaincough, and Leathermask after him. Whitepaw's still wet fur dripped onto the sand, forming tiny balls underfoot.
"Whitepaw, you look terrified," Carnationspeckle whined, jogging up to her grandson with Rapidleaf at her side. "You're a mess! What's got you and Shrewflame hurrying into camp like this?"
"I…" Whitepaw gulped. "She…" Tell them what they need to know. I'm going to keep you safe. It's not your fault.
"Maybe start from the beginning," Asterblaze suggested, abandoning his crafts to join the small but growing group. Drumtooth squinted at Whitepaw and the sand glued to his fur. Yes, start from the beginning. Work through the story. Tell them what they need to know.
"Since Mr. Billowhaze is still fighting his allergies," Whitepaw finally gulped, "Shrewflame took me out to spar in the water. Ms. Estherfern joined us to check if we got too cold, and Ms. Lightningrunner asked to come along. Me and Shrewflame were sparring and swimming, and Ms. Lightningrunner was on the shore with Ms. Estherfern. She… Ms. Lightningrunner said she heard something in the trees, and she went to check. When she didn't come back, we got worried, and we followed her, and, and…"
"She's dead," Drumtooth said, voice low and tight. Carnationspeckle's breath tightened. Rapidleaf couldn't stop herself from gasping. Asterblaze tensed. "Lightningrunner's dead, isn't she? You would have brought her back if she was just hurt." Whitepaw begged StarClan to let him sink into the sand. Instead, he closed his eyes and nodded.
The few cats still in the Clan would soon rush about and search for Lightningrunner's siblings, scattered on patrols throughout the territory. They would find Downstar and Oilstripe, grimly informing them that yet another Clanmate had been found dead; this one, they'd soon learn, with a huge and bloody bite on the back of her neck like a sloppy hunt.
For now though, Whitepaw stood in the shock of it all, sand heavy on his legs, images of Lightningrunner frozen against his eyes.
(Whitepaw: 6, male, historian apprentice, nervous, active imagination)
(Shrewflame: 13, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)
(Puddlewhisper: 55, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)
(Vervaincough: 24, female, codekeeper, insecure, understands nature, good mediator)
(Leathermask: 37, male, warrior, nervous, good fighter, eloquent speaker)
Scaleripple, Anchovystrike, Yellowburst, and Boughfur hear desperate screams coming from the seashore.
[Image ID: Anchovystrike, Yellowburst, Boughfur, and Scaleripple lead an old gray and white tom with yellow eyes along. Under Anchovystrike, it reads LEVEL UP! DEEP STARCLAN BOND → UNSHAKABLE STARCLAN LINK. Under the stranger, it reads NEW PLAYER: WASHINGTON, 217, MALE, NERVOUS, GOOD MEDIATOR, + CONDITION: BROKEN BONE. Under Boughfur, it reads LEVEL UP! GOOD CLIMBER → GREAT CLIMBER.]
---
"I heard Lemmy say the killer bit into her neck twice to make sure she was dead," Brightreed whispered to Wolverineheart in the warrior's den. "It's no wonder Whitepaw's been moping in the apprentice's den. Part of me just wants to hide in camp too!"
"You make it sound like he's just being sour," Wolverineheart huffed. "He's barely started his training. He could have been killed instead of Lightningrunner, you know! He's young, he's allowed to be scared."
"I'm not trying to insult him. I'm saying I'm scared too. Thinking about Lightningrunner makes my scar itch."
"It has to be a RippleClan cat, right? I haven't heard of any foreign scent by Battle Beach."
"I guess. But who would want to kill Lightningrunner?"
"Lightningrunner and Potterypool. You can't expect it to be a coincidence that they both died like that."
"I still don't know who would kill either of them. I don't think we should guess, either. That would be the worst gossip you could share. What are we supposed to do if we can't trust each other?"
"…maybe the killer has a thing for gingers. Oilstripe should watch her back."
"Wolverineheart! Scaleripple is sleeping right over there!"
Scaleripple was not, in fact, sleeping.
Yes, he laid in his nest, carefully barren of any irritating leathers, his graduation gift from Tempestshade carefully tucked by his paws, but Scaleripple was not asleep. His blue eyes were open, but turned away from Wolverineheart and Brightreed's nests. Scaleripple's claws poked at his rattle. He was Lightningrunner's big brother. It was supposed to be his responsibility to protect his little sisters, even though their chatty, gossipy behavior was stranger than what laid in the depths of the ocean. Yet Lightningrunner found her end just beyond RippleClan camp while Scaleripple was tied up in the medicine den with a pounding headache. What was he supposed to do with that? Even though dawn consumed the territory and urged the Clan out of the giant warrior's den and onto their duties, Scaleripple lingered, pretending to catch a little more sleep. What else could he do?
"Scaleripple?" Scaleripple sat up, spooking Wolverineheart and Brightreed. Yellowburst stood outside the warrior's den, tail swaying as she waited. "Are we still going on patrol?" Oh. Right. Downstar wanted Scaleripple to lead a patrol south to clean up the shoreline. The investigation into Lightningrunner's death the day before had to abandon their search for the killer early due to a violent late autumn storm that left the beaches covered in debris. Scaleripple was supposed to lead Anchovystrike, Boughfur, and Yellowburst at dawn. How long had they been waiting for him?
"I'll join you outside camp," Scaleripple promised. Wolverineheart and Brightreed shifted uncomfortably, their dark gossip staining their hearts with guilt. Good. Scaleripple groomed his strange white spots as Yellowburst left his sight. He plucked his jay feathers from his nest and wove them into his tail, focusing on the gentle ritual. Feathers were a good sensation, the opposite of fur and leather. They were a comfort in such dark times. Lightningrunner loved them, and so Scaleripple loved them even more.
Scaleripple left Wolverineheart and Brightreed to wallow in their embarrassment. Yellowburst, Boughfur, and Anchovystrike waited for him by the camp entrance. The sand gently coated the bottom of Scaleripple's paws, still wet from last night's freezing rain. Scaleripple simply flicked his tail for his Clanmates to follow him out into the late dawn.
The coast south of RippleClan camp was riddled with debris. A rotting wolffish stunk up the rocks that formed the southern beaches. Broken wood like the planks that formed the shipwreck floated in the waves and caught against the rocks that stuck out of the foam, watery reflections of the rocks that lined camp. Sticks, grass, and seaweed polluted the usual gray, pristine image of the beach. At least the sky offered a glimpse of peace. The stormclouds broke apart into gray sheets against a yellow sky.
"I think a ship sunk," Boughfur noted as the patrol approached the beach. "I've never seen so much wood on the shoreline before. We should bring it back to camp! There are a lot of planks on the shipwreck that could be replaced. Who knows, maybe we can open up space for another den in there!"
"Yellowburst," Anchovystrike chuckled. He hopped across the rocks to the beached wolffish. He hooked his paw under the wolffish's jaw. "Wouldn't it be funny to take this back to camp and claim it was Wolfgaze's reflection?" Yellowburst snickered with Anchovystrike.
"This isn't the day for jokes," Scaleripple huffed. His tone had more bite than he expected. Anchovystrike dropped the fish. Yellowburst crept away to the debris. Distant seabirds filled the silence that followed.
"Scaleripple, we'll tear our fur out if we don't unwind," Anchovystrike pointed out. "There's nothing any of us can do about… you know. Let's just clean up the beach and try to keep the mood light." Scaleripple hummed under his breath. Boughfur and Yellowburst shared an awkward glance.
"Why don't Yellowburst and I collect the usable wood and make a pile?" Boughfur suggested when Scaleripple refused to give an actual response. "We can have Mitespark and Venturedapple carry them home later."
"Go ahead," Scaleripple said, hopping down to the beach. He grabbed a chunk of grass and dragged it to the treeline where the mice and squirrels could use it for nesting material. Anchovystrike dug a hole to bury the dead wolffish. Boughfur and Yellowburst quietly debated the best way to carry the heavier planks out of the rocks and onto solid ground. Scaleripple tuned them out, ears pricked to the eager waves at his side.
As Scaleripple worked, his thoughts drifted back to his family. What was he supposed to do for them? He wanted to protect them, but was that feeling any stronger than his desire to protect everyone in RippleClan? What would Tempestshade have thought of the last moon? Did Oilstripe or Troutpool ever see their spirit wandering camp, checking in on their littermates or sitting beside Scaleripple? Scaleripple couldn't help but sneer at the thought of how RippleClan would treat Tempestshade if they were still alive. Would the Clan blame them for Potterypool or Lightningrunner's deaths?
Scaleripple paused with a large chunk of seaweed in his mouth. His pelt prickled as old memories of Tempestshade's mistreatment itched at his chest. He knew the cats in his Clan were good cats, or at least tried to be. Yet it seemed that even the wiser among them still gave into superstition and overcaution. They avoided being alone with Tempestshade. They didn't know how to spend time with Scaleripple without sharing tongues. Scaleripple even saw how cats like Carnationspeckle and Elmsprout flinched when Yarrowclaw raised her voice, as though any sign of overeagerness was a step away from the brown and white molly dissolving into madness. Wasn't there something Scaleripple could do for cats like that? The only answer he received was the gentle churning of the ocean and far-off, feral screaming.
Wait. Screaming?
Scaleripple stared out into the sea. Larger planks and chunks of a now sunken ship bobbed along the water. Some pieces had bright swaths of paint splashed over the wood, turning the planks green and yellow. One large bicolored wreck tumbled with the waves. A soaked gray and white cat clung to the wood, claws embedded in their one saving grace. Bleary yellow eyes stared at Scaleripple and the RippleClan patrol. The drowned cat screeched with all the strength they had left as a wave splashed over their makeshift raft.
Scaleripple didn't realize he was running until he plunged into the icy ocean, salt stinging his eyes. His feathers floated to the yellowish-gray surface. He breached the water with a large gasp. The drowning cat was a few bear-lengths away. Scaleripple paddled, letting the ebb carry him closer to the stranger and pushing against the flow.
"Careful, Scaleripple!" Boughfur yowled from the shore just as Scaleripple reached the ocean's victim. He could barely smell the stranger's tom-scent through the salt. The stranger's soaked tail smacked Scaleripple's face. Scaleripple shivered so violently, he almost slipped under the raft. Yet that gave him an idea. He paddled around the drowning tom and shoved his head against the broken, ragged edge. The raft rolled toward the shore, even as the water pushed it every other way. Scaleripple's head hurt with the raft's pressure, but it was better than someone else's wet fur against his skin.
Anchovystrike scrambled into the water. As the ocean floor climbed to meet the surface, the pressure of the waves eased. Yellowburst splashed beside Anchovystrike. She grabbed the edge of the raft and stabilized it. Anchovystrike grabbed the terrified tom by the scruff and lifted him onto the rocks. Scaleripple shoved the raft aside and crawled to dry land.
Now that the salt wasn't blinding Scaleripple, he could better see just who he rescued. The tom was old; his white chin was coated in aged gray and his eyes sagged. Had he not been soaked clean through, he would have been a fluffy old tom. He coughed up water and shivered hard enough to spray the warriors surrounding him.
"You're on dry land," Anchovystrike promised as Yellowburst licked the tom's fur the wrong way. "You've landed in RippleClan territory."
"The crew," the old tom croaked, staring back at the sea. "The ship! The storm!"
"We have cats who can take care of you," Yellowburst said, coughing out wet hair. The old tom's eyes shook, mouth half open and ears pushed back.
"They're gone," he moaned. "They're all gone."
"Were there other cats on your ship?" Boughfur asked. "Maybe they washed up somewhere else along the coast."
"Not cats," the tom whined. "My humans. I caught rats for them. They're gone! They're sunk!" He pushed himself off the rocks, but his back right leg gave out under him. He yowled, spasming as he smacked back onto the rocks.
"That looks broken," Scaleripple muttered as Anchovystrike and Yellowburst hurried to help.
"We could make a splint from all this wood," Boughfur realized, dragging over a small plank. "That should help him walk back to camp. Let me go find something to tie it on." Boughfur adjusted the dry flowers in her fur and hurried off to the forest. Scaleripple stared at the shipwrecked tom as he clawed at the stones, moaning. Loving humans, those strange, unknowable beacons of intelligence and craft, did not seem much different from how Scaleripple loved his family, or how they loved him.
"What's your name?" Scaleripple asked the soaked tom. The tom swallowed his grief and blinked saltwater out of his eyes.
"They named me Washington," he sighed. Scaleripple nodded softly, shoulders tense.
"I'm sorry, Washington," Scaleripple said.
For what else could be said? What else could be done?
(Brightreed: 21, male, warrior, righteous, student of art)
(Wolverineheart: 21, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)
Elmsprout and Lavendertwist welcome two kits into the world.
[Image ID: Elmsprout and Lavendertwist face two newborn kits; a ginger and white kit, and a pale silver kit with a few white markings. Under Elmsprout, it says - CONDITION: PREGNANT, + CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH. Under the ginger kit, it says NEW PLAYER: GINGERKIT, 0, MALE, CHARMING. Under the silver kit, it says NEW PLAYER: FROSTKIT, 0, FEMALE, QUIET.]
(Lavendertwist: 50, male, historian, playful, great singer, good storyteller)
(Gingerkit: 0, male, kit, charming)
(Frostkit: 0, female, kit, quiet)
Currentsmoke expresses his concern about Yarrowclaw's recent behavior.
[Image ID: Mosspounce, Wolfgaze, Sandhollow, Weevilsight, and Anchovystrike run in a patrol, with Mosspounce calling "Yarrowclaw, get off the horse-path." Under Weevilsight, it says - INFECTION.]
---
Anchovystrike couldn't really share tongues with his brother, not like he wished he could. After all, Currentsmoke couldn't groom him back. It didn't help that the thick wound across Currentsmoke's face was still infected, covered in oozing concoctions. Weevilsight said the infections came and went, but to Anchovystrike, it all seemed like one big, continous disease. Yet that didn't matter. Injured or not, Currentsmoke was going to enjoy the anniversary celebration with the rest of RippleClan, basking in the sunhigh glow.
Most of the Clan was busy around Elmsprout and Lavendertwist. They had just given their litter of two, Frostkit and Gingerkit, their names, and everyone wanted to show the two tiny kittens what the warm sand and cool sea felt like. Meanwhile, the artisans and caretakers used some of RippleClan's precious salt to season enough prey for everyone. Anchovystrike and Weevilsight shared a woodpecker while Weevilsight helped Currentsmoke drink some salty, herb-soaked broth. The three cats basked in the summer sunshine, content with their meals.
"You know, Currentsmoke," Weevilsight sighed, nestling into the sand, "if you end up with a big scar from this, you won't be alone. Most of my tail has healed, but fighting that infection left a lot of the skin raw." Weevilsight showed off her tail, which no longer sported any bandages, as it had over the last few moons. Yet the skin was still pink and raw, irritated from exposure to other cats' diseases. The scarring ran across her ginger and black fur like new tortoiseshell markings. Had Weevilsight been a warrior, it would have been a mark of beauty.
"I duhn't care ah-out scars," Currentsmoke grumbled. "I just 'anna li'eh."
"You're not dying on us," Anchovystrike huffed, shoving Currentsmoke's shoulder. "You've got four clerics looking after you, and you've got me, Billowhaze, and Yarrowclaw keeping you busy. You're the best of us, Current. You're not going anywhere anytime soon." Currentsmoke purred and gently bunted heads with his brother, making sure not to touch his wounds. The supernatural glimmer in Weevilsight's pelt glowed brighter at the sight, and Anchovystrike purred just a bit harder. Yet as Anchovystrike dug into his share of the woodpecker, Currentsmoke tensed. Anchovystrike could feel Currentsmoke's tired muscles harden as he rested against him.
"More pain, Currentsmoke?" Weevilsight asked. She sniffed at Currentsmoke's jaw.
"Nuh," Currentsmoke mumbled. He scanned the happy crowd trapsing through the sand and salt water. Anchovystrike followed his gaze, unsure what he was looking for. "Souh'ing's wruhng 'ith Yarr'acla'ah."
"Yarrowclaw?" Anchovystrike clarified.
"She has been a little strange the last few moons," Weevilsight admitted. "Did you hear about her hunting patrol last moon?"
"She's been overworking herself, I know," Anchovystrike huffed. "But she realizes it eventually. She just gets into these moods lately."
"It's muhre than that," Currentsmoke insisted. The injured tom groaned and slowly pushed himself to his paws. His legs shook, his body's battle with his injuries draining too much strength from him to stay up for long. "She's nuh't here. Souh'ing's wruhng." Weevilsight pushed against Currentsmoke, making sure he didn't collapse. Currentsmoke tried to shake Weevilsight off, but hissed as the bandages restraining his jaw rubbed the wrong way.
Anchovystrike gave the anniversary celebration another look over. Was Yarrowclaw with Billowhaze? No, Billowhaze was joking with Wolfgaze and Ravenweaver over their own share of salty meat. Maybe she was spending time with her former mentor. No, that wasn't right either, Rapidleaf was talking through something with Estherfern, probably bonding over recent messages from StarClan or something of the sort. Yarrowclaw was close with Estherfern's litter, she was probably splashing through the water with them! And yet, no. Brightreed, Wolverineheart, Boughfur, and Thundergale were each busy with their own fun. Currentsmoke was right. Yarrowclaw wasn't at the anniversary celebration.
"Why do you think something is wrong?" Weevilsight asked, easing Currentsmoke back down.
"I heard her," Currentsmoke groaned. "She f'isited 'e. She didn't 'ake sense. She said she was going to cah'lete a rituh'al to cuh're 'e."
"To cure you?" Weevilsight muttered. "But we've said all the prayers we can think of. Estherfern even helped Honeybuzz commune with the Celestial of Broken Bones herself for extra advice and blessings. What could Yarrowclaw do?"
"She's in dang'ah!" Currentsmoke snapped. He tried to stand again, but his rising nerves worked in tamdem with his weakness and send him back into the sand.
"Rabbitjoy mentioned something about a ritual last moon," Anchovystrike realized. "That was why Yarrowclaw caught all that prey." Anchovystrike stood, shaking sand out of his fur. "You're right, Currentsmoke. I don't like this. I… I think I misunderstood what Yarrowclaw's been going through. We need to find her."
"I'm with you, Anchovy," Weevilsight promised, stretching. "I'm going to fetch Honeybuzz so he can look after Currentsmoke. Think you can put together a patrol?"
"Easily," Anchovystrike purred, nodding. He rubbed against Currentsmoke and said, "Don't worry, Current. We'll make sure Yarrowclaw is alright." Weevilsight and Anchovystrike crossed by each other, each focused on their goals. Anchovystrike wormed around his Clanmates, focused on Billowhaze, Wolfgaze, and Ravenweaver.
"Wolfgaze," Anchovystrike called as his friends and brother tried to fight off their giggles. "Can you join me for a bit? I need your help with something."
"What do you have to do that can't wait until after our celebration?" Ravenweaver asked, coughing to clear her laughter.
"Just…" Anchovystrike gulped, glancing at Billowhaze. "Call it a favor for a friend."
"You know I'd be happy to help," Wolfgaze said, getting to her paws. "Enjoy the rest of the meal for me, Billowhaze!"
"With pleasure," Billowhaze hummed, taking a huge bite out of the salted squirrel. Wolfgaze tucked her head and followed Anchovystrike.
"So you know," Anchovystrike chuckled, "we're going to talk about your interest in my brother later." Wolfgaze groaned softly, batting at her own red ears. "Right now though, I'm more interested in my sister. Can you go grab your dad and join me? I think Mosspounce could help a lot."
"Is something wrong with Yarrowclaw?" Wolfgaze asked, romantic embarassment fading.
"Just get your dad," Anchovystrike asked. Wolfgaze nodded and surged into the partying cats, calling for Mosspounce. Anchovystrike, meanwhile, headed for Sandhollow. The cream-tinted tom splashed through the water with Slushtrail and Tallowheart, the three of them squealing like kits. If Currentsmoke hadn't sounded so serious, Anchovystrike would have joined them in their fun.
"Sandhollow," Anchovystrike called. Sandhollow paused n his frolicking, just as Tallowheart's tail sent a wave of salt water into his face. Slushtrail and Tallowheart laughed as Sandhollow rubbed his eyes, trying to get the salt out.
"You two are so ridiculous," Sandhollow chuckled, stumbling out of the water. He shook out his pelt, spraying Anchovystrike. His fur stuck out like thorns. "Hi, Anchovystrike."
"Sandhollow, you've grown close to my sister since you graduated, haven't you?" Anchovystrike asked. "I've seen you spend time with her." Sandhollow's face darkened.
"Something's happened to her, hasn't it?" Sandhollow said.
"I don't know," Anchovystrike admitted as Slushtrail and Tallowheart waded onto the beach, the fun of the moment dead. "I want to make sure nothing does. We need to find her. Can you come with me?"
"Of course," Sandhollow huffed, giving himself a few quick licks to smooth his pelt.
"I should come too," Slushtrail said, sliding up to her fellow mediator.
"I think our little patrol is getting crowded, Slushtrail," Anchovystrike chuckled awkwardly.
"I can handle it, Slush," Sandhollow promised, side-eyeing Slushtrail.
"Is Yarrowclaw in danger or something?" Tallowheart asked.
"Or something, Tallowheart!" Anchovystrike snapped, making the young historian jump. "We just need to go, alright?" Tallowheart stepped back, nodding quickly and avoiding eye contact. Anchovystrike sighed, taking a deep breath. He would have time to apologize later. "Over here, Sandhollow." Sandhollow was at Anchovystrike's side with just a flick of the latter's tail. Slushtrail and Tallowheart watched on as the two toms jogged over to Weevilsight, Wolfgaze, and Mosspounce.
"What exactly is the problem here?" Mosspounce huffed as Anchovystrike and Sandhollow joined the patrol.
"We don't know all the details," Weevilsight sighed, her focused, glowing gaze resting on each Clanmate. "I think we've all noticed Yarrowclaw has had… a lot of busy days, lately. We're worried it's more than that. Currentsmoke thinks she's in danger, and I'm inclined to believe him."
"I'm not trying to undermine your worry, really," Mosspounce said, awkwardness twitching through his whiskers, "but as the oldest cat here, and I really hate that that's true, I should point out the obvious. Yarrowclaw's an adult. She's allowed to leave the party. Are you sure we need to track her down?"
"Currentsmoke knows cats," Anchovystrike huffed. "He's one of the most caring cats I know. He knows when something's wrong. He saw Yarrowclaw wasn't here and panicked. If he thinks we need to find her, we should find her."
"Wanted to make sure you were serious," Mosspounce assured him. "Now the other question… do we have any idea where she might be?"
"Let's check camp first," Wolfgaze suggested, jogging across the sand. "It might be that simple!" The patrol ran after Wolfgaze, sand sticking to their half-wet paws. They left behind the music and laughter of their Clan and ran toward their shipwreck home.
Carnationspeckle lounged at the entrance of camp, absent-minded in her guard duty, dozing off in the warm, almost blistering sun. She snapped to attention as the patrol hurried up to her, however.
"Are you all alright?" Carnationspeckle asked. "You look so serious. Did something happen?"
"We're alright, Carnationspeckle," Sandhollow promised, panting, "but is Yarrowclaw in camp? Did you see her?"
"She's not in camp," Carnationspeckle said, shaking her head, "but I did see her! She headed south a short time ago. Is she alright?"
"Keep your ears perked for us, would you Carnationspeckle?" Anchovystrike asked, paws carrying him to the shoreline. Weevilsight and Wolfgaze scrambled behind him.
"Anchovystrike, wait!" Carnationspeckle yowled, but Anchovystrike's focus was elsewhere.
Anchovystrike breathed deep as the lips of a heavy wave stretched to meet his paws. The salt stung his nose and blinded him to even the smell of Weevilsight beside him. Anchovystrike's chest tightened. Call it instinct, call it brotherly intuition, call it the power of the All-Seeing for all he cared, Anchovystrike's whole body screamed at him to find Yarrowclaw, right now.
"I smell her!" Wolfgaze cried, tail shooting up. She sniffed the sand, whiskers pooling Yarrowclaw's scent together and into a narrative in Wolfgaze's mind. The patrol gathered around her. The heat molded into Anchovystrike's anxiety, making his fur burn. "Carnationspeckle is right, she went south!"
"That's my kit," Mosspounce cheered, sniffing. "I got the scent too. We'll find her together. This way, you three!" Wolfgaze and Mosspounce ran along the sand and grass, hopping from scent bubble to scent bubble. Anchovystike, Weevilsight, and Sandhollow matched their pace.
Yarrowclaw's trail drifted from the cool shoreline into the speckled hills. There was no banter in this patrol, no breaks. Every cat stayed focused on the task ahead. They pushed through the mental haze of sunhigh and kept moving. They would find her. She hadn't gotten far. They just had to keep going. She'd be fine. She'd be fine.
"Anchovystrike." Sandhollow ran alongside Anchovystrike, who suddenly found his chest too tight and the air barely breaching his lungs. "Breathe. Don't pass out on us." Breathe. Yes, breathe. Anchovystrike forced the air into him like a drowning cat.
They heard Yarrowclaw before they saw her.
"I can hear them! I can hear the horses, Robin, thundering down and down and down the path, down the path to save him! Thundering hooves strike the ground, it's lightning, lightning in the sky, or is that my heart? Is my heart in their hooves? Smashed under their hooves? Robinkit, they're coming! They're coming! Strike me! Hit me! His pain to my pain, my pain to his, StarClan's will be done, but not with this, no no, not with Current! You can't take him, Robinkit! Not yet! And you're never taking me! Never!"
Yarrowclaw paced in the center of the horse-path. Her tail thrashed wildly, as though she was in the middle of a battle. She kicked up dust like a kit playing in the sand. She screeched down the path, good eye shifting in and out of focus. Anchovystrike could not hear any horses.
"Yarrowclaw, get off the horse-path," Mosspounce barked, charging toward the border. Anchovystrike, Weevilsight, Wolfgaze, and
"I'll be fine!" Yarrowclaw shrieked. Anchovystrike never heard such laughter in his sister's voice before. "It's for Current! It's for Current! It's my destiny, it's my purpose! They're almost here! Here, here, I hear them, they're deafening, they're here to hear me, they're here for me!" Yarrowclaw's laughter suffocated Anchovystrike. Yarrowclaw coughed, choking on her escasty. Her laughter dissolved into a death wail, the same frenzied expression stuck on her face. "Stop it! Stop the noise! Trample me already! Break it! Break my jaw! Don't take him! Don't take him!" Yarrowclaw stumbled, jaw smacking into the dry path.
"Freeze her!" Weevilsight wailed with a heartbreak Anchovystrike hadn't heard since that fateful day in the nursery. "Wolfgaze!"
At the same time, Yarrowclaw cried, pushing herself up, "I can't keep waiting! I have to take it from him!" Yarrowclaw wrenched her head back.
Suddenly, the world stood still. Yarrowclaw's guttural cries stopped with the blink of an eye. The wind stirred her dusty fur. Her sightless eye stared at Anchovystrike as the patrol finally reached the horse-path. Wolfgaze, too, was frozen, but her eyes, focused and terrified, stayed stuck on Yarrowclaw.
"Don't break my line of sight," Wolfgaze gulped as Anchovystrike and Sandhollow approached Yarrowclaw's supernaturally frozen form. "We've never moved someone when they're frozen, I don't know if we can."
"Just stop her," Weevilsight begged, hiding her face in her father's shoulder. "I hate this vision. Don't let it happen." Anchovystrike knew better than to pry into Weevilsight's darkest visions. He carefully walked behind Yarrowclaw and tucked himself under her head. With his head right up to Yarrowclaw's pelt, Anchovystrike could truly see Wolfgaze's power in action. There was a faint shimmering line surrounding Yarrowclaw's body. Anchovystrike could only see it if he focused, but the lines rippled like water and pressed against Yarrowclaw.
"We'll unfreeze her and get her off the horse-path," Sandhollow said, jaws close to Yarrowclaw's scruff. "Mosspounce, be ready to help us. I don't think she's going to go quietly." Wolfgaze swallowed hard.
As soon as Wolfgaze blinked, Yarrowclaw came to life. She swung her head down hard, but rather than hitting the hoof-hardened horse-path, her muzzle smacked into Anchovystrike's shoulder.
"No!" Yarrowclaw cried as Sandhollow grabbed her scruff. "No no no! He'll die! I'm the only one, I'm the only one that can save him, I'm the only one! I won't be hurt! I can't be hurt! No!" Sandhollow and Anchovystrike dragged Yarrowclaw off the horse-path. Yarrowclaw swung her claws at Anchovystrike's muzzle. She caught her brother's lip, sending a stream of blood trickling into Anchovystrike's mouth. Anchovystrike hissed and shoved Yarrowclaw onto the grass lining the horse-path. Mosspounce left his terrified daughter's side and stood on Yarrowclaw's shoulders. Anchovystrike stood on her flank.
"Yarrowclaw, can you hear me?" Sandhollow asked softly, crouching at the trapped molly's level. "Shh, you're safe, I promise."
"No, I have to go," Yarrowclaw cried, face as torn as the day she saw Robinkit and Harvest's bodies cooling in the nursery. "There's too much to do, I can't stay here, I have to go."
"There's nothing you need to do except breathe," Sandhollow assured her. "Weevilsight is going to find some herbs to calm your mind. It seems like there's a lot going on in there, am I right?"
"Currentsmoke's going to die unless I transfer his wounds to me," Yarrowclaw wailed. Her pinned claws dug up tufts of grass.
"Yarrowclaw, that kind of ritual doesn't exist," Mosspounce snapped. Yarrowclaw's chest heaved, ragged breaths morphing into sobs. "You have to snap out of it."
"Mosspounce, with all due respect," Sandhollow hissed quietly, suddenly at the caretaker's ear, "stop talking. Let the tom with mediator training use his training, alright?"
"How do we calm her down?" Mosspounce asked. Yarrowclaw kicked at Anchovystrike, but Anchovystrike laid on her hind legs. All Yarrowclaw could do was flex her claws helplessly.
"There's a patch of tall lettuce that loves to sprout near here," Weevilsight stammered. "That should help. I, I'll be right back!" Weevilsight scurried over the hills and through the trees, unable to stop her pelt from bristling.
Wolfgaze silently took over for Anchovystrike as Sandhollow whispered to Yarrowclaw, rubbing on the edges of her delusions. Anchovystrike laid beside Yarrowclaw rather than on top of her. Yet as he rested his head, something glimmered in the top of his vision.
Anchovystrike hadn't seen this strange sight since that moment in Downstar's den, coping with the sudden loss of his mother and brother. Soft streams of light flowed around Yarrowclaw and her captors like the glistening pawsteps of StarClan. Even against the shine of the midday sun, the light couldn't blind Anchovystrike. It pulled the weight out of his chest. Yarrowclaw sobbed deep, her whole body tensing. Then, she relaxed, deflating into her own unknowable misery.
"If that's you, Robinkit," Anchovystrike whispered, just quiet enough for him to hear, "thank you. And I'm sorry."
The ethereal light slithered around Yarrowclaw and dove sharply. It weaved into the back of the brown molly's head like a snake sliding into its hole. As it entered Yarrowclaw's body, the warrior sheathed her claws. Blades of grass stuck up between her toes. Sandhollow groomed Yarrowclaw's cheeks as Yarrowclaw sobbed and muttered a string of nonsense.
Anchovystrike wouldn't claim to understand what was wrong, or what needed to be done. But what he could do was groom his sister's fur and murmur gentle assurances.
(Anchovystrike: 19, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)
(Weevilsight: 19, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
(Currentsmoke: 19, male, caretaker, loving, good climber, skilled toolsmith)
(Ravenweaver: 19, female, artisan, nervous, den builder, very clever)
(Wolfgaze: 19, female, codekeeper, thoughful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)
(Billowhaze: 19, male, historian, loyal, good kit-sitter)
[Image ID: Anchovystrike says to Sandhollow and Spikecrash "I’ve dealt with a lot for a cat my age. This is nothing in comparison. Yarrowclaw’s still the cocky, rough-as-salt molly I know. She’s still the cat I have fun with. She’s just got a few extra traits now." Yarrowclaw sits in the back. Under her, it reads + PERMANENT CONDITION: DAY-NIGHT CYCLING.]
---
"So Yarrowclaw's crazy now?" Cobaltchaser gulped, settling deeper into her nest.
"Cobaltchaser!" Lightningrunner whined, sneering. "You can't call your Clanmates crazy!"
"That's what she sounds like," Cobaltchaser pointed out. "I'm not insulting her. Some cats are crazy. They can't control it."
"Maybe we don't call anyone crazy," Anchovystrike sighed, cheek on the edge of his nest.
By the time Anchovystrike and his patrol came back to camp with Yarrowclaw, nearly half the Clan had left the celebration at the beach, wondering just what they were up to. Weevilsight's tall lettuce helped soothe Yarrowclaw, so she didn't enter camp yowling and crying, but everyone could tell she was in a fragile state. Paleseed and Spikecrash kept the Clan back until Sandhollow and Weevilsight settled Yarrowclaw in the medicine den. Anchovystrike had Mosspounce and Lemmy to thank afterward; the whole Clan was about to pry Anchovystrike for an explanation, but the moment Mosspounce spoke with his mate, Lemmy pushed everyone away, reminding them the value of a cat's privacy. That didn't mean cats like Cobaltchaser and Lightningrunner didn't try to ask later, as the entire camp relaxed after the party and settled down within the warm summer night.
"He's her brother, mouse-brain," Lightningrunner huffed. "He doesn't have to tell us the whole story. Yarrowclaw's going through a hard enough time without us getting in her business."
"At least one of you gets it," Anchovystrike said, getting up. "I think storytime is over, anyway." Anchovystrike crept through the maze of nests that made up the warrior's den. Most cats were already in their nests, getting ready to sleep. Anchovystrike tried not to look at Yarrowclaw's empty nest. He failed.
Outside the den, only a few cats remained out. Downstar and Oilstripe spoke with Spikecrash by the Shiprock while Billowhaze sat with Currentsmoke and Estherfern outside the medicine den. Wolfgaze and Mosspounce shared tongues outside the warrior's den and perked up when Anchovystrike stepped out.
"How are you feeling?" Wolfgaze asked softly.
"Like my sister just tried to kill herself," Anchovystrike chuckled wetly. Mosspounce set his head against Anchovystrike's shoulder, pouring his sympathy into him. "The nap helped, at least. I'll have to thank Lemmy for giving me some room to breathe."
"If it helps," Wolfgaze sighed, licking Anchovystrike's ear, "I don't think she realized she could have died."
"Is Billowhaze mad I didn't bring him with us?" Anchovystrike asked.
"It's bad enough you had to see that," Mosspounce huffed. "If that was Trumpetspore on the horse-path, I wouldn't have been able to do anything. Billowhaze should be grateful he wasn't there."
"He understood after I talked to him," Wolfgaze said. "Just be with your brothers, Anchovystrike. I can move my nest closer to you tonight, if you want."
"That would help," Anchovystrike sighed, touching noses with Wolfgaze. "I can't thank you enough for your help."
"Yarrowclaw's our friend too," Mosspounce purred, setting his tail on Anchovystrike's back. "We would have helped regardless. Good luck tonight." With that, Mosspounce and Wolfgaze entered the warrior's den, leaving Anchovystrike to face his family head-on.
Currentsmoke spotted Anchovystrike first. He raised his head from his curled position and batted Billowhaze's leg.
"I don't like that I had to hear about Yarrowclaw from someone else, Anchovystrike," Billowhaze huffed. Anchovystrike approached with his head low.
"He sa'ed her," Currentsmoke sighed as Estherfern put her nose in his ear. "Sat's enough."
"All this stress brought Currentsmoke's fever back," Estherfern muttered, shaking her head.
"Oh, so now you're interested in medicine?" Anchovystrike hummed, daring to raise his head.
"I've put my pride aside," Estherfern scoffed. "That's not what you should be focusing on tonight." Billowhaze sighed and cleared space for Anchovystrike to sit between him and Currentsmoke.
"Sandhollow told us that since Yarrowclaw isn't fully of sound mind," Billowhaze sighed, "he's going to keep us informed on Yarrowclaw and what she needs going forward." Anchovystrike nodded softly. He glanced into the medicine den. He could just hear Sandhollow inside, speaking softly with Yarrowclaw. When Sandhollow's blue eyes turned toward him, Anchovystrike quickly looked away. Moments later, Sandhollow stepped outside.
"Spikecrash?" he called softly. Spikecrash turned from her conversation with Downstar and Oilstripe. She bade the leader and deputy farewell and joined her former apprentice beside the three brothers.
"Estherfern," Spikecrash cooed, "we can watch over Currentsmoke if you'd like to nest for the night."
"Here's to a quiet night," Estherfern hummed, nodding to the mediators. She nodded to each of the three toms beside her before she slipped around Sandhollow and into the medicine den. Sandhollow and Spikecrash sat with their backs to the medicine den, as though shielding Anchovystrike and his brothers from what laid within.
"First things first," Sandhollow explained, "Yarrowclaw's safe and resting. She probably won't sleep tonight with her mania, but she'll at least stay in the medicine den. Even if she doesn't plan on staying, Spikecrash has asked for a caretaker to watch her through the night." Spikecrash nodded along with her apprentice's assessment.
"Mania, what is that?" Anchovystrike asked.
"You could consider it the opposite of depression," Spikecrash sighed. "Rather than feeling low, your emotions are elevated. Everything is more vibrant, more stimulating, your joy and rage and panic are stronger than ever before. We believe these periods of activity Yarrowclaw's had over the last few moons have been manic episodes. When a cat goes through these periods of mania, their emotions crash afterward into depression. We call it day-night cycling. Mania is like the day, bright and burning, while the depression afterward is like the night, gloomy and dark."
"Yarrowclaw is depressed too?" Billowhaze moaned.
"It's not the same for everyone," Sandhollow assured him, shifting a paw closer. "From what we've been able to gather about Yarrowclaw's behavior, she may focus more on the 'day' side of this cycling than the 'night' side."
"What should we know?" Anchovystrike asked. "To keep her safe, I mean."
"For now?" Sandhollow sighed. "Just show her support. We can talk through the specifics another time. This is a lot to process. It's been a long day. You should all rest."
"Honestly, Sandhollow?" Anchovystrike chuckled, focusing on the glow of the medicine den. "I’ve dealt with a lot for a cat my age. This is nothing in comparison. Yarrowclaw’s still the cocky, rough-as-salt molly I know. She’s still the cat I have fun with. She’s just got a few extra traits now. Right?"
"Exactly," Spikecrash purred.
"We still want to see her though," Billowhaze said. "You said she's awake."
"Currentsmoke's sleeping in the medicine den, he'll get to see her," Billowhaze pointed out, his paw almost smacking Currentsmoke. "Just let us in for a little bit."
"It's best not to fight them on this, Sandhollow," Spikecrash cautioned, rubbing her tail along Sandhollow's back. "You three can see her, but be quiet and don't take long. The clerics are trying to sleep, and Wolverineheart has an ear infection they're monitoring." Billowhaze helped Currentsmoke to his paws. Anchovystrike touched noses with the mediators, but his mind was already in the medicine den. He led his brothers into the shadows of the ancient wood.
Potterypool sat guard beside Yarrowclaw as Wolverineheart and the clerics settled down to nest. Although Yarrowclaw's eyes drooped, she stayed alert, scratching at the moss in her nest. Someone groomed the dust and snarls out of her pelt and lined her nest with lavender. Billowhaze escorted Currentsmoke into his nest beside Yarrowclaw. Currentsmoke's paw hooked the edge of Yarrowclaw's nest as he stared at his sister. Anchovystrike loafed in front of Yarrowclaw, with Billowhaze sitting beside him.
"Potterypool won't let me leave," Yarrowclaw muttered, glaring at her guard.
"Do you want me to disobey Sandhollow?" Potterypool sighed, giving her charge nary a side-eye. "I'm not going on trial for letting something happen to you."
"I was going to cure Currentsmoke… I think," Yarrowclaw sighed. She rubbed her face, groaning, "I don't really remember all of it. There were horses… or maybe that was my heart. I feel like I'm the middle of a battlefield."
"You were trying to break your jaw," Anchovystrike muttered. Some of the day's panic crawled back up his throat. "You were talking to Robinkit."
"I didn't actually see him," Yarrowclaw mumbled, putting her head on the nest's edge. "I was so sure he was there, though. Ugh, I just want to hunt! I feel like I'm on fire. I don't like talking this much, I'm not saying anything. But I can't move, so I have to, I have to keep talking so I don't burn away, everything's going too fast. I feel like I'm dying. I don't think I can die."
"You can die, Yarrowclaw," Billowhaze huffed. "You don't have powers, you're not a cleric, you can't perform any rituals. You're just you."
"I want it to stop," Yarrowclaw gulped. "I want to rest, but I'm on fire. I want to bite my pelt off, get it out, but Potterypool stops me."
"And she should, you know," Anchovystrike said. He scooted closer to Yarrowclaw.
"I do," Yarrowclaw whined. "I do know, somewhere. I'm dying. I want it to stop. I want to fix something, anything. Sandhollow wants me to sleep, and I want to sleep so badly, but I can't. Everyone's dying, and I can't stop it." Yarrowclaw's unsheathed claws hooked around her muzzle. Billowhaze moved them off. Currentsmoke stretched until his paw rested on top of Yarrowclaw's.
"I'll 'e here for yuh," Currentsmoke said, trying to purr. "I'll fight with yuh."
"We all will," Anchovystrike promised. He set his nose on Yarrowclaw's head and prayed to Robinkit, to Harvest, to any StarClan soul who wandered around him, that his sister realized that.
(Cobaltchaser: 14, female, codekeeper, righteous, good cook, prey cleaner)
Considering her great teaching skills, Moontide decides to join Thundergale and Shrewpaw as a teacher, further validating Thundergale's ambitious experiment.
[Image ID: Shrewpaw and Thundergale proudly watch Moontide.]
When the mediators visit SlugClan to discuss the issue with Icekit and Pearkit, Nimblestep asks them to at least tell them about their family if they won’t give them back yet. No one... really knows what to say.
[Image ID: Paleseed, Spikecrash, Sandhollow, and Slushtrail speak with Lettucestar and Nimblestep. Slushtrail has juniper berries tucked by her ear. Under her, it reads + ACCESSORY: JUNIPER. Nimblestep says, "Quickkit and I have been learning how to make pottery… she's so good at it. Do Icekit and Pearkit like art?"]
Weevilsight is sorry, but she still isn’t ready for a romantic relationship with Anchovystrike, despite caring for him too. Anchovystrike slinks off, rejected. He goes hunting with Currentsmoke, Billowhaze, and Whitepaw to calm down.
[Image ID: Whitepaw, Billowhaze, Anchovystrike, and Currentsmoke speak in a group. Under Billowhaze, it says - CONDITION: RUNNY NOSE. Under Currentsmoke, it says LEVEL UP! SKILLED TOOLSMITH → INVENTOR AND INNOVATOR. Behind Whitepaw and Billowhaze, a gray and white kit with green eyes approaches, yowling "Clan cats!" Under him, it says NEW PLAYER: DOVEKIT, 4, MALE, IMPULSIVE, ACTIVE IMAGINATION.]
---
"Um, Mr. Anchovystrike?" Whitepaw gulped from the back of the patrol. "I don't want to be rude, but…"
"You're making us all depressed," Billowhaze huffed. "You might be taking this a bit too hard."
The mentor and apprentice weren't wrong. As Anchovystrike led the pair and Currentsmoke toward the heart of the territory to hunt, he couldn't help but let his ears dip and his tail slag. Even the bright bird song and glittering glow of early afternoon couldn't uplift his heart. Anchovystrike knew he'd been through worse, but that didn't stop his chest from hurting and his teeth aching with the tension in his jaw.
"We don't have to call each other mates," Anchovystrike muttered, staring at the grass as he walked. "I just want to take her out of camp sometimes."
"You've been best friends as long as any of us can remember," Currentsmoke purred, rubbing against his brother. "Weevilsight obviously loves you, or at least cares! It'll be alright."
"I have to be blunt here, Anchovy," Billowhaze sighed. He looped around his brothers and stood in front of them, his pelt dappled with the light passing between budding branches. "Do you really expect Weevilsight to be interested in mates right now? Her parents have barely been dead a season." Whitepaw stayed at his mentor's side like the dutiful apprentice he was. With bright green colors breaking through tan grass and colorful flowers peeking out from the bases of old trees, Whitepaw's pelt burned against the land like the pale center of a flame.
"I thought it would take her mind off everything," Anchovystrike mumbled as his ears grew red.
"Give her a little time," Currentsmoke said. "Just being her friend can be enough for now, right?" Anchovystrike let our a mrrow of laughter. Currentsmoke and Billowhaze were right. Of course they were. Anchovystrike was just being a mouse-brain about it all. Whitepaw shuffled his paws, uncertain of his place in the brotherly conversation.
"Maybe we can at least catch some birds for her?" Anchovystrike suggested. "She loves—"
"Clan cats!" Whitepaw jumped at the sudden yowl, back arched high. A figure stomped through the young growth behind Whitepaw and Billowhaze, tail high. The wind finally carried the scent of a young tom to Anchovystrike's nose. Shiny green eyes blended into the blooming foliage. A gray and white face plunged into view. Every muscle in the tom's soft face pointed itself toward the RippleClan patrol. He had no Clan scent, but he was certainly younger than any wandering loner Anchovystrike had met. He was likely still a kit!
"Hello?" Currentsmoke gulped. He blinked wildly, laughing as the gray and white tom marched toward the group with huge pawsteps.
"Greetings!" the kit chirped, shimmering in the dappled light. Anchovystrike snorted at the strange choice of words. "I've come to join the Five Clans! Which one is this?"
"Um…" Anchovystrike snorted, trying to hide his laugh by clearing his throat. "You're in RippleClan, kit."
"I've come to join you as one of your fearsome warriors!" the kit declared. "Take me to your camp!" The four older toms stared at the loner kit. The kit stared back, blissfully unaware of the awkwardness choking the air.
"Alright, let us handle this," Billowhaze muttered to his brothers. He nudged them back with his hind leg. Billowhaze and Whitepaw moved closer to the kit. "Where did you come from, then?"
"Why does that matter?" the kit scoffed. "I'm a RippleClan cat now!" The kit's voice broke as he made his dramatic declaration, sounding more like a weasel than a warrior. Anchovystrike couldn't hide his snort at that.
"What Mr. Billowhaze is asking," Whitepaw quickly said, "is where your mother might be."
"I don't know," the kit chirped with a dismissive flick of an ear. "My humans adopted me ages ago. No idea where Mom is!"
"You're like me," Whitepaw muttered, eyes widening.
"I want to be!" the kit said. "All the Witch Hunters were talking about how big and strong the Clans were. You make a lot of stuff and trade it with the Witch Hunters. You must be really smart! I want to big and smart too! I could be a great warrior! That's way better than sitting in a human's lap all day!" Billowhaze hummed, tilting his head at the proud little kit.
"Well, you heard him," Billowhaze chuckled, glancing back at his brothers. "He could be a great warrior."
"Shouldn't we make sure no one's looking for him?" Currentsmoke asked.
"Who would be looking for me?" the kit asked, mimicking Billowhaze's head tilt.
"If he has a mother looking for him," Billowhaze muttered so the kit couldn't hear, "I'm sure the Witch Hunters will come by the border and ask for him. Besides, we should take him to camp. He's only…" Billowhaze paused, a thought catching his attention. He turned back to the kit and asked, "How old are you?"
"I don't know," the kit said innocently.
"Alright," Billowhaze groaned. "Whitepaw! Do you remember age markers? Can you figure out this kit's age?"
"Um…" Whitepaw said, tail twitching back and forth. "Have you lost any of your teeth, little one? Have they fallen out of your mouth?"
"Yesterday I ate the food my human left out," the kit explained in one breath. "My tooth fell out of my mouth but I just ate it with the rest of my food."
"Well," Whitepaw chuckled, "you still have kitten fur, so… I think you're four moons old."
"Good job," Billowhaze purred. "I agree. It's better to take him back to camp."
"I'm still going to ask Oilstripe if I can lead a patrol to the river," Currentsmoke sighed. "I don't want this to be a repeat of our problem with Nimblestep."
"Can we go hunting?" the kit asked, bouncing around Billowhaze.
"You need to see our leader first," Billowhaze said. He stopped the kit from wandering by placing his paw in front of him. "If you really want to join the Clans, there's a few things you'll need to do. What's your name, anyway?"
"I heard what Clan names sound like," the kit said, jumping onto a small root. "I picked my own! Doveclaw the warrior!" The gray and white kit dropped into a playful battle pose, growling.
"That's a nice name!" Whitepaw chirped as Anchovystrike once again laughed. "You'll have to earn that name, though. When you're young, we would call you something like Dovekit. Then you can become Dovepaw, like how I'm Whitepaw!"
"I can't be Doveclaw?" the kit—soon to be known as Dovekit—huffed.
"With hope," Billowhaze hummed, nudging Dovekit toward the rest of the patrol, "you will some day."
Anchovystrike took the lead back home while Currentsmoke, Whitepaw, and Billowhaze walked along Dovekit, prying him for more information and laughing at the kit's strange arrival. Anchovystrike couldn't stop laughing at Dovekit's random comments and insistence he could become a warrior as soon as he entered camp.
It seemed there would always be something to take Anchovystrike's mind off heartache and frustration.
(Whitepaw: 11, male, historian apprentice, nervous, active imagination)
(Billowhaze: 29, male, historian, loyal, good kit-sitter)
(Currentsmoke: 29, male, cartakr, loving, good climber, inventor and innovator)
(Dovekit: 4, male, kit, impulsive, active imagination)
A skirmish with LynxClan cats stealing crabs leaves Yarrowclaw with a mangled leg and Downstar with a mangled tail.
[Image ID: Yarrowclaw and Downstar face off against a black masked tabby with blue eyes and a scar across their muzzle. Under Downstar, it says + CONDITION: MANGLED TAIL, while under Yarrowclaw, it reads + CONDITION: MANGLED LEG. Oilstripe runs towards them, yowling, "Get off of my leader!" Under her, it says - CONDITION: GRIEVING.]
(Downstar: 153, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)
(Yarrowclaw: 29, female, warrior, cold, fire master)
Washington finally passes from his shipwreck injuries, but at least he died in a safe and loving home. Rabbitjoy decides to retire as a result, but since Downstar is weak, Oilstripe’s the one to give Frostpaw to Ravenweaver for the rest of her training.
[Image ID: Oilstripe watches over Rabbitjoy, Ravenweaver, and Frostpaw. Ravenweaver and Frostpaw face each other, now mentor and apprentice, while Rabbitjoy watches, pleased.]
(Washington: 222, male, elder, nervous, good mediator)
