#asterblaze

There was a lot to do to prepare for the Gathering that night. RippleClan had recovered enough from the Ocean's Assault to properly contribute to the Gathering again, and thus loaded their baskets with fresh-kill and goods for trade. It seemed Oilstar invited everyone who could attend that night, perhaps a show of strength to the new leader of AshClan. Lichenstar was on Lavendertwist's mind as well, but for different reasons than his respected leader. The collared historian sat with his children by the artisan's den, his shadow cast over them both.

"Our Clanmates are going to make a lot of harsh comments about Eelstar tonight," Lavendertwist warned his kits as Frostdancer packed pouches of salt along a heavy cord and Gingerspring groomed himself. "I don't want your mother to have to hear any of it. Even though she left AshClan, she cared for her father, and she deserves a chance to mourn him."

"I would never make it worse for her," Frostdancer huffed, scooping the last pouch into the pot of salt at her paws. "I assume you're talking about cats who don't know when to stop talking." Frostdancer glared at Gingerspring as she tightened the pouch in her teeth.

"I talk with AshClan cats all the time," Gingerspring scoffed. "I'm the perfect mourner around them. She doesn't have to worry about me. She should worry about the stories you like to tell at the Gathering."

"I'm not going to talk about the Ashes in the Water tonight!" Frostdancer snapped.

"Your mother also doesn't need any fighting tonight," Lavendertwist groaned, batting both kits on the head. "You're littermates! You can both get along for your mother's sake."

"I won't say anything about Eelstar tonight, Dad," Gingerspring promised as Frostdancer pulled the heavy necklace of salt pouches around her neck.

"I'll takee that, at least," Lavendertwist sighed, purposefully ignoring the bitter look Gingerspring shot at Frostdancer.

"Grab your baskets, everyone!" Oilstar yowled near the camp entrance, adjusting the leaves in her fur. "We need to leave now if we want to beat AshClan to the Leader's Stone! Let's keep on our paws tonight!" Wildclaw hurried out of the nursery, the smell of her recently adopted litter whafting off her pelt. She took her place beside Oilstar and led the way out of camp. Lavendertwist scrambled into the crowd, searching for the gray and white pelt he so adored.

"Lavendertwist!" Elmsprout's tail stuck over the crowd. Lavendertwist shimmied past his Clanmates into the heart of the group, where Elmsprout walked alongside Halibutdusk.

"Are you ready for tonight?" Lavendertwist asked, nuzzling his mate as he matched the Clan's pace.

"Ready for the whole Gathering to ask me how I'm coping," Elmsprout sighed. "That's why I asked Halibutdusk to sit with us tonight. I could use a buffer."

"I'm going to assume that is a compliment," Halibutdusk hummed with a flick of their ear.

The snow outside of camp was smushed down by countless paws trekking back and forth. Oilstar and Wildclaw led RippleClan along the pawprints of earlier border patrols, deep and trailing, easily disrupted by excited paws and heavy baskets. The sunset was dull with the heavy clouds, more like a black pelt dragged across the land than a beautiful color show. At least the pride of RippleClan kept everyone warm.

"I hope the clouds aren't a bad sign," Elmsprout sighed as RippleClan reached the dark treeline, abandoning the glow of the camp fire. "I heard that generations ago, the Clans would have canceled the whole Gathering over this."

"If StarClan wants us to meet in winter," Halibutdusk pointed out, "we have to tolerate a moonless night."

"I can just hear AshClan worrying about Eelstar's spirit," Elmsprout groaned. "They'll say my father sent the clouds for one reason or another!"

"I'll keep them off you tonight," Lavendertwist promised.

It wasn't long before RippleClan found the border of WheatClan and AshClan and started the next leg of the journey to the Leader's Stone. Just as Lavendertwist leaned in to lick his mate's cheek, absorbed in conversation, Vervaincough stumbled into him, pushing against the flow of the crowd.

"Sorry, Lavendertwist!" Vervaincough gulped, scampering backward out of the rush of cats. "I'm just trying to get to the back."

"Vervain, will you make sure to see me later tonight?" Halibutdusk asked. Vervaincough drifted further back, but Halibutdusk dragged their paws. "The clerics are sharing ancestor sightings tonight. I want to see if they've spotted your mother and sisters in StarClan."

"I promise to sit with you," Vervaincough called, jogging backward. She hurried to the far back of the crowd, where Slushtrail wandered with her gaze drifting around the dark trees. Vervaincough gently nudged Slushtrail and spoke softly with the brown and white mediator. Lavendertwist quickly remembered the tom who was supposed to be walking alongside his sister, a tom Lavendertwist mentored, a tom who could have done so much more. Lavendertwist's scar burned with bittersweet memories.

"I should join that tonight," Lavendertwist muttered as he, Elmsprout, and Halibutdusk rediscovered their pace. "It would be nice to better understand how Tallowheart is doing. And Billowhaze. And… Splashtuft."

"Poor Drumtooth," Elmsprout whimpered. "He and his brothers just don't know how to react. I think it's why those three volunteered to stay behind tonight. They need some time to really work through his disappearance. And don't get me started on Floodsplash. She finally goes back to her duties after the flood, and she plummets into a depression with Billowhaze's death. Maybe the new kits will balance out all the loss."

"I don't like gossiping about mourning cats," Halibutdusk muttered, ears twitching down.

"I'm not trying to be cruel," Elmsprout insisted. "I'm letting you know how they're coping."

"To be fair, Elm," Lavendertwist groaned with a twirl of his tail, "a lot of cats will be 'letting each other know how you're coping' tonight. And I don't think you like that." Elmsprout mrowed softly, caught in her hypocrisy. She dipped her head and cleared her throat.

"Maybe I should see if Terracottafoot has seen my father in StarClan," Elmsprout admitted. "I… I do hope we can meet again in Silverpelt." Halibutdusk and Lavendertwist nodded.

"Dog! Dog! Dog!" Lavendertwist almost didn't hear the yowl above the chatter of the crowd. He glanced behind him, the first to turn his head.

The dog came from AshClan. Lavendertwist saw it charge across the border, ignoring the frantic yowls of AshClan cats behind it. It was a muscular white beast with a curling tail that blended into the shadowed snow. Thick slobber dribbled along its pointed chin. A hundred tragedies filled Lavendertwist's mind. Dogs with foaming mouths, infecting survivors with a disease no cleric could ever hope to cure.

By the time the rest of the Clan heard what Lavendertwist heard, the dog was right behind Vervaincough.

The dog collied with Vervaincough like a kit stumbling over a moss-ball. Snow flew around them like an explosion. A spray of blood soared out from the chaos. RippleClan panicked. Some pushed forward, mediators and artisans who lacked the training to take down such a big dog. Others surged against the fear, hurrying to Vervaincough's aid. The black codekeeper's cries pierced the night like a stalking owl.

Lavendertwist was almost lifted off the ground by the opposing forces pushing against him. Halibutdusk, meanwhile, shouldered Ravenweaver aside as she ran past them and broke free of the swarm. Lavendertwist followed their path, jumping over Elmsprout. Four AshClan warriors surged across the border just as Lavendertwist, Halibutdusk, and the other RippleClan warriors reached Vervaincough and the dog.

A sea of warriors smashed into the slobbering dog. A dozen different pelts, black and ginger and brown and blue, smeared against the dog's scruffy white fur. Warriors of both AshClan and RippleClan dragged the dog off the quivering red-stained mass that was Vervaincough. Lavendertwist never even laid a paw on the dog; the rest of his Clan dealt with the beast with such a feral fury that he could turn his attention to Vervaincough.

Vervaincough was a mess of deep bite wounds. Blood pooled around her collarbone. Her lean muscles quivered with painful spasms. Wild silver eyes shook as Halibutdusk crouched by their daughter's face, noting each and every lethal blow.

"Dad," Vervaincough croaked, paws twitching.

"I'm here, I'm here, I'm not letting you go," Halibutdusk stammered, shoving their muzzle under Vervaincough's bloody shoulder. They lifted their daughter up. Vervaincough's neck dangled, dripping into the snow. Halibutdusk's blown-out amber eyes barely took in the swarm of fury at their side, a horde of warriors that slowly wore down the dog's strength and beat it into the snow. Halibutdusk turned to Lavendertwist, who stared horrified, and screamed, "Help me!"

Lavendertwist bolted to Halibutdusk's side. He slipped under Vervaincough's flank. His pelt grew sticky with her blood. Memories of his near-fatal neck wound returned in a terrified haze. Lavendertwist dug his jaw into his skull and fought the memories off. The dog was no longer moving, but the warriors still beat into it, completely consumed in their outrage. Lavendertwist and Halibutdusk could not wait for an explanation from AshClan or orders from RippleClan. They simply ran, balancing Vervaincough on their backs.

The pair retraced the Clan's path back to camp. It made it easy to move through the snow, although Lavendertwist and Halibutdusk were not of the mind to appreciate that. Gray skies turned black as the night strengthened its hold over the territory. Lavendertwist's back burned with Vervaincough's intense heat. His legs felt as though they would fall off in his effort to match Halibutdusk's wild pace.

As Lavendertwist and Halibutdusk reached RippleClan's forest and the smell of saltwater returned to the trees, Vervaincough's haggard breathing slowed.

The brambles lining the camp entance tore at Lavendertwist's side when he and Halibutdusk returned. Honeybuzz, Drumtooth, and Leathermask sat around the camp bonfire, sharing tongues when the smell of blood hit their noses. A horrid mrow escaped Drumtooth's throat when he saw Vervaincough.

"A dog," Halibutdusk panted, running past the three borhters to the medicine den. "A damn dog came out from AshClan! Help her! Honeybuzz, help her!" Vervaincough tumbled into Estherfern's nest; no one had the time to care about who's nest was whos. Honeybuzz slipped between Halibutdusk and Lavendertwist and crouched beside Vervaincough's wounds.

Lavendertwist backed out of the medicine den. He almost bumped into Leathermask and Drumtooth, who watched wide-eyed from the entrance. Mitespark, belly heavy with milk and eyes droopy from the strain of kitting, peeked out of the nursery, trying to gauge what was going on. Waspdawn and Vasco crept out of the quarantine den, still a little shaky from yellowcough but strong enough to investigate the panicked sounds in the medicine den.

That was when a desperate, hopeless wail broke through the camp. Lavendertwist didn't have to look inside to know it was Halibutdusk. He didn't have to look to know what happened.

It all happened so fast. Lavendertwist's head buzzed. Was the rest of the Clan coming back to camp? Were they still going to the Gathering? This was supposed to be a fun night. Why did Lavendertwist's Clanmates have to suffer like this? Couldn't RippleClan have a season where someone didn't die?

"Dad!" Lavendertwist's skin jumped. Gingerspring hurried into camp, a basket of herbs bouncing against his chest. Dried plants flew out of the basket in Gingerspring's wild run. He stepped on the bloodstained snow, staining his pads.

"Dad, how's Vervaincough?" Gingerspring huffed, skidding to a stop in front of his father. "I came back in case Honeybuzz needs help. Oilstar is handling the dog, I think—"

Lavendertwist wrapped himself around Gingerspring. The blood smeared onto his back rubbed onto Gingerspring, camoflagued in his orange fur. Halibutdusk's wail rippled deep into the hearts of everyone in camp.

"Dad?" Gingerspring gulped. Lavendertwist pressed harder into his son. Gingerspring shoved his muzzle into his father's shoulder.

When you're a father, it is important to count your blessings. No one knows when they could slip away.

(Lavendertwist: 69, male, historian, playful, great singer, good storyteller)

(Frostdancer: 19, female, artisan, confident, masterful storyteller)

(Gingerspring: 19, male, cleric, charismatic, human expert, good hunter)

(Oilstar: 107, female, leader, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Elmsprout: 70, female, caretaker, charismatic, trusted advisor)

(Halibutdusk: 95, nonbinary (they/them), warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

(Vervaincough: 38, female, codekeeper, insecure, understands nature, good mediator)

Quickpaw joins Wolverineheart, Thundergale, and Midnightpaw training. The half-blind warrior gives them both hope for the future.

[Image ID: Quickpaw and Midnightpaw, now in an adult sprite, sit in front of Wolverineheart and Thundergale.]

---

Quickpaw pounced first, living up to her prefix. Midnightpaw braced himself. His paws sank deep into the wet sand of Battle Beach. He kept his head at an angle, uncovered eye focused on Quickpaw, bandaged eye shielded. But could he keep it so?

Quickpaw spun around Midnightpaw. His bandage flashed clear for just a moment before he countered and faced Quickpaw once more. Quickpaw repeated her move. She lept over Midightpaw, and Midnightpaw once more countered. This wouldn't be as easy as it seemed. Midnightpaw's form was softer and rounder than other toms his age, but growing muscle stretched under that fluff. It was the sort of build that made Quickpaw assume Midnightpaw's fighting style was brutish and slow. But perhaps that was intentional.

Midnightpaw batted at Quickpaw's face, overwhelming her whiskers with too much input. Midnightpaw spun on his front legs. He kicked Quickpaw in the side.

"It seems unfair that he can go for my face, but I can't go for his," Quickpaw groaned as she locked herself around Midnightpaw's unprotected front legs. Midnightpaw dropped all his weight on Quickpaw's head. Sand smeared into her nose.

"You can explain to Estherfern why the scars on his eye reopened, then!" Wolverineheart called from her perch in the grass, laughing. Thundergale sat at her side, focused on each apprentice's moves. The sisters' brown pelts glowed in the morning light that richocheted off the gray winter sea. The snow had faded with an uncharacteristically warm day, but the deep cold that once more claimed the land promised more snow soon to come.

Midnightpaw laughed and let Quickpaw up. Quickpaw snorted out sand and shook out her pelt.

"Floodsplash taught me the trick with my eye," Midnightpaw purred, licking sand off Quickpaw's chest.

"You're good," Quickpaw panted. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You have more moons of sparring under your paws than I do."

"And I'm just better," Midnightpaw chuckled, sticking his tongue out. Quickpaw smacked Midnightpaw's shoulder, laughing.

"Alright, alright, let's review how you did," Wolverineheart said. She and Thundergale joined the apprentices on the sand. Quickpaw sat tall and polite, just as her SlugClan mentor taught her. Midnightpaw, meanwhile, laid on his back and watched the older mollies upside-down.

Wolverineheart nodded to Thundergale. Thundergale purred and began to sign. A touch of shame warmed Quickpaw's face. She was a historian now, she should be able to understand one of her most famous Clanmates. Yet Thundergale's quick flicks of her paw, the little twitches in her whiskers, all looked the same to poor Quickpaw. At least Wolverineheart could translate.

"You're really mastering Floodsplash's technique, Midnightpaw!" Thundergale signed with a purr. "Hopefully your eye heals well and you won't have to worry about guarding that side of your face. If Estherfern gives you bad news, though, I think you can handle yourself in a fight. You should work on partner fighting next. If you have someone else to watch your bad side, you don't have to be as cautious."

"It feels…" Midnightpaw hummed, with Wolverineheart translating back for Thundergale, "manageable, I think that's the word. It feels alright to not notice everything. Does that make sense?"

"It does to me," Thundergale assured him. She then turned toward Quickpaw. "Quickpaw, I could tell you struggled since you couldn't hit Midnightpaw's face. Try to take it as a chance to learn. Practice more moves that target the legs and tail. You don't want to rely on just a few battle moves."

"I know more moves," Quickpaw huffed. "It threw me off when I wanted to smack Midnightpaw's face, but had to remind myself I couldn't."

"Consider it a challenge," Thundergale suggested.

"Do you think I can graduate?" Midnightpaw asked, tail tilting up in misplaced hope. "I did well, right?"

"Midnightpaw," Wolverineheart sighed. Her kits may have only been a half moon old, but she had already mastered a maternal, disappointed tone that made Quickpaw's heart catch and the sound of her own mother slip through her ears. "We talked about this. You've missed a lot of training. It will take a few more moons before you're ready to be a warrior."

"I'm an adult now, though," Midnightpaw whined. "I beat Quickpaw. I can hunt. Isn't that enough? I can't still be in the apprentice's den when the new kits become apprentices! What sort of big brother would I be if I can't graduate?"

"I understand, I promise I do," Wolverineheart purred. She stopped translating for Thundergale, instead patting her sister's shoulder and moving closer to the two apprentices. She spoke in softer tones, gentle eyes flicking between Quickpaw and Midnightpaw. "I know you're both excited to graduate. You want to be responsible, respected. You're both a year old now, and I know Boughfur and I are trying to give you some space because of that. Just trust that you'll graduate before too long. This will all be a distant memory this time next year. Does that help?"

"Quickpaw has to graduate with me," Midnightpaw huffed, slapping a paw against her back. "It wouldn't be right for her to get left behind." Quickpaw couldn't find her words for a second. One moment, Midnightpaw was begging to graduate, the next he wanted Quickpaw at his side? What a strange tom.

"I'm the older one here," Quickpaw chuckled, shaking her head. "What makes you think you wouldn't be left behind?"

"Because I can do this, and you can't," Midnightpaw hummed, mischief glinting in his eyes. Midnightpaw smashed his flank into Quickpaw with a sudden twist, throwing the brown apprentice off her feet.

"We'll see about that!" Quickpaw roared, laughter bubbling through. She rolled back up just in time to brace for Midnightpaw's charge.

As Quickpaw and Midnightpaw traded blows and gouged the sand, Wolverineheart stepped back, rejoining Thundergale and loafing as she watched. Quickpaw could hear Wolverineheart's deep purr over the beat of her own heart and Midnightpaw's quick swipes. She dodged Midnightpaw's second swipe and locked herself around his back leg.

She wouldn't lose this time!

(Quickpaw: 13, female, historian apprentice, ambitious, good swimmer)

(Midnightpaw: 12, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, always wandering)

(Wolverineheart: 35, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)

(Thundergale: 35, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)

Halibutdusk’s angry comment during a border meeting with the new leader, Lichenstar, leads to a fight. Leathermask walks away with a badly torn pelt while Asterblaze sports a deep bite wound.

[Image ID: Halibutdusk, Rapidleaf, Asterblaze, and Leathermask stare down the new leader of AshClan, Lichenstar, a ginger and gray tortoiseshell. Halibutdusk growls, "You killed her. do you know that? your clan’s inattention drove a rabid dog into my daughter." Under Rapidleaf, it reads LEVEL UP! LONESOME → SNEAKY. Under Asterblaze, it says + CONDITION: BITE WOUND. Under Leathermask, it says + CONDITION: TORN PELT.]

(Halibutdusk: 95, nonbinary (they/them), warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

(Rapidleaf: 121, female, warrior, sneaky, prophecy interpreter)

(Asterblaze: 50, male, caretaker, thoughtful, inventor and innovator)

(Leathermask: 51, male, warrior, confident, good fighter, eloquent speaker)

Weevilsight comes back shivering with frostbite while asking WheatClan to help with Midnightpaw’s eyes.

[Image ID: Estherfern says to Weevilsight, "His scars have almost healed, weevilsight... you wasted your time." Under Weevilsight, it says + CONDITION: FROSTBITE.]

(Estherfern: 137, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

It's a rite of passage for RippleClan kits to stare up at the great shipwreck that watched over the camp and ask the nearest historian "How did it get here?" After all, even the youngest kits could see the ocean from camp and hear the water at its highest tide, tail-lengths from the westernmost rocks. It never rose high enough to lift a ship all the way from the horizon to the top of the rocks. So how did it happen?

Historians would give some vague guess, some storm that none of them had ever witnessed, but they could never give a definitive answer. It had been there before their parents' parents' parents. No one would ever know what caused RippleClan's ship to wreck itself upon the coast of the Clans.

But that day, as rain pelted RippleClan as hard as claws against skin and saltwater leaked between the western walls, Yarrowclaw could imagine how the ship landed on RippleClan's shore.

RippleClan only realized that the storm had grown worse when Billowhaze loudly complained about his nest being wet, waking up everyone in the warrior's den. Water flowed through minute gaps in the wall in a steady stream, soaking into the leather floor. It ruined the nests near the back of the den, ending just before Yarrowclaw's nest. The brown and white warrior stirred only as surprised orders bounced around the den and cats scrambled out into the bruising rain.

"Asterblaze!" Wildclaw barked, the first out of the den. "Valleypaw! The warrior's den is flooding! We need to dam the holes!" Asterblaze and Valleypaw, who had both been guarding the camp through the night and were soaked through their skin, hurried into camp at the deputy's call.

"The water will ruin the artisan's den," Rattlepelt gulped, hurriedly pulling her fox pelt over. "We need paws to take our supplies to higher ground."

"You can direct the other artisans on that," Wildclaw told her mate with a swift nod. "The tree line should provide some cover for now."

"Valleypaw, loop around camp and find the weak points on that side of the den wall," Asterblaze told his young apprentice. "I'll get some mud, and that should seal them up well enough to get through this rain."

"I'll try," Valleypaw promised as the artisans swarmed past the stunned crowd of soaked warriors, following Rattlepelt's orders to move their pots and baskets.

"Be mindful of the waves!" Asterblaze added before Valleypaw ran out of camp. In an artisan's tale, that sort of statement would have been followed by a violent clap of thunder, but the sky was dark, simply relieving its unbearable load.

Yarrowclaw's fellow warriors squirmed and groaned at the rain, shaking or licking their pelts in vain. Ravenweaver and Mitespark rolled a large pot across the soaked sand while Frostdancer ran basketloads of smaller supplies out to the forest. Yarrowclaw's paws itched. Should she be moving supplies too? Would the rain ruin the fresh-kill? She could—no. No ideas. She had to just listen to what Wildclaw ordered. That was what was best.

"Where are we supposed to sleep?" Billowhaze groaned, ears dragged down with waterweight. "I'm not going back in there tonight."

"We'll figure that out," Wildclaw huffed. "I'm sure we can make room in the other dens."

Yarrowclaw was used to the sound of stormy waves hitting the shore beyond the warrior's den. She knew their foaming, creaking sound well. That sound was a steady backdrop to the night's annoyances. Yet Yarrowclaw's ears bled as a loud creak began to overtake Wildclaw's voice. Yarrowclaw looked toward the foam-stained walls of camp, walls that had never had so much ocean foam smeared on their surfaces as long as Yarrowclaw had been around. Beyond those bramble-topped walls, the ocean stood up.

"SHIT!" Wildclaw shrieked above the rising chaos as the gigantic wave crashed into RippleClan's camp.

Yarrowclaw's paws left the ground. Saltwater surrounded her on all sides. The force of the wave shoved the air out of her chest. Someone's large form smacked into Yarrowclaw's jaw. The pair locked claws into each other, desperate for something, anything, they could hold onto. The wave shoved the confused cats deep into the sand, pressed into the crook of a rock. Yarrowclaw's eyes burned with salt.

When the sting of rain hit Yarrowclaw's nose, the half-drowned warrior gasped violently. Her vision blurred as the cat she had collided with, Venturedapple, stumbled off her. Yarrowclaw coughed out salt and foam. Water formed a pool across the camp. The brambles that lined the eastern wall of camp were now thrown about the clearing, broken by the force of the water. Warriors laid in heaps, smashed against the rocks but still breathing, still groaning and hissing with newfound bruises. Oilstar shoved a fallen plank out from in front of her den and searched for explanation. Wolfgaze had somehow landed perfectly on top of the apprentice's den and looked just as shocked by the sight as Yarrowclaw felt about seeing her.

Some of the smaller rocks of the camp wall had rolled from their resting place. Yarrowclaw nearly exploded when she saw one of the rocks that formed the sides of the nursery had rolled in front of it, but she remembered—Stormjump had that infection. She was in the medicine den, and her kits would be with her or Honeybuzz. The medicine den only had a fallen plank floating in the paw-deep water, they were fine for now. Even though water now flowed over the rocks and deepened the waters within camp, everyone was still in camp. The artisans were by the forest, so…

Wait. No. Valleypaw.

"Valleypaw!" Wildclaw yowled. She had landed belly-up in front of the elder's den, next to a dazed Anchovystrike and an unconscious Leathermask. Despite her wounded Clanmates surrounding her, Wildclaw scrambled up, hissing as she moved. She limped toward the flooding wall and climbed onto the brambleless rocks. She searched the watery beach beyond the wall for signs of black fur and yellow eyes. As she looked, Brightreed crawled out from underneath Wolverineheart and Thundergale; the three had been washed against the eastern walls and laid under the falling water as they collected themselves. A bramble mass clung to Brightreed's body, but he shoved it off despite the blood mixing into the dark stormy waters.

"I'll get him!" Brightreed yowled. He jumped onto the slick rocks and dove into the unseen waters beyond. Wildclaw shook herself out, flinging thick drops about, before following the young warrior down.

Yarrowclaw examined herself. She was cold, yes, and certainly aching and bruised, like everyone else. Yet, unlike Leathermask, she was not unconscious. Unlike Brightreed, she was not bleeding. Unlike Tallowheart, when he stumbled into camp with broken ribs, nothing was broken. Even Venturedapple, who groaned at Yarrowclaw's side, seemed shockingly unharmed. Would he have been so safe if he hadn't been thrown into Yarrowclaw? He practically rode her to… to safety.

"StarClan, no," Yarrowclaw muttered, voice lost in the rain and crashing waves. "Please. I can't be prophesized. Please."

Yarrowclaw had barely listened to Oilstar or the clerics since Estherfern told her about her vision. Whatever it was about, Yarrowclaw couldn't help. She offered a dozen interpretations. If the ship was covered in white flowers, maybe they should be talking to the cat literally named Whiteflower. If it was a ship, maybe it was related to the shipwreck itself and not an individual cat. Anything could be true, except for what Yarrowclaw knew to be true. The feral little voice in her head was already rambling.

You're special. You knew it. You knew it! You're chosen. You're invincible. You're going to survive the storm. No matter what happens today, you can't die. StarClan said so. If ships carry others to shore, and you're the ship, you can save your Clan. No one will die if you're around.

No, no, no! Yarrowclaw couldn't be special, she could not be chosen or invincible for her own sake. The moment she gave into those wild, uncontrollable feelings, she put everyone at risk. And yet the vision… it was almost permission to give in. It was StarClan's way of saying just this once, you can be a little delusional, because in this situation, you aren't.

You get to be a hero, Yarrowclaw.

"Get to the forest!" Yarrowclaw yowled as Icepaw and Pearpaw waded out of the apprentice's den, coughing and shaking. "We need to get out of camp! Just evacuate!"

"Find your kin, everyone!" Oilstar barked as another wave crested over the rocks. The Clan dug their paws into the sand and stood against the salty pressure. Yarrowclaw shut her eyes to block out the sting. She held her breath when the water consumed her head and gasped when it receeded. The water now rippled at her elbows.

The clerics aren't out yet. They're dying. You can keep them alive. No one dies around you. Go.

Yarrowclaw jumped through the water, pushing against the terrified warriors flooding toward the exit. She stumbled, jaw smacking the cold water. As she pushed herself up, she saw Oilstar unite with Carnationspeckle in front of the water-filled artisan's den. The mates touched noses, grateful in each other's safety. Oilstar's eyes met Yarrowclaw, stunned at the only cat not flocking for the exit. She believes you're special too, she's the one who tried to convince you, she knows what you have to do. Yarrowclaw pressed on to the medicine den.

The medicine den was more flooded than Yarrowclaw expected. Water seemed to seep through the sand and the cracks in the shipwreck. The back half of the medicine den had turned into a water-filled cave. Tallowheart lingered at the water's edge, struggling to stand even with Troutpool's help. Gingerspring pounded on Weevilsight's prone belly until she vomited water. The tortoiseshell's signature petals floated out of the den. Midnightpaw cowered against the den wall, the left half of his face wrapped tight in bandages. He shook his head wildly as Honeybuzz and Estherfern cooed for him to move.

"It will get worse if we stay," Honeybuzz snapped. "Midnightpaw, we need to leave now. Just go!"

"I can't!" Midnightpaw whined, hiding his good eye against the ruined shelves of medicine.

"Weevilsight, come on, let's get out of here," Gingerspring gulped as Weevilsight stood, shaking and gagging. "We have to go!"

"Yarrowclaw," Estherfern gasped, the first to notice the newcomer in the chaos and rain. There was more fear in her eyes than Yarrowclaw had seen since Mosspounce carried Foampaw's mangled body into camp. Yet at the sight of Yarrowclaw, Estherfern's blown-out pupils relaxed, ever so slightly. "The vision. Just as your ancestors predicted." Estherfern turned toward Troutpool and Tallowheart, who limped away from the thick waters in the back of the den. "Stay with Yarrowclaw, you two. Nothing will happen if you do."

Yes! Yarrowclaw wouldn't let anyone die at her side. A silly storm couldn't kill her. Nothing could! Yarrowclaw bit her tongue. Blood mixed with saltwater.

"Midnightpaw, your brothers and mothers are just out of camp," Yarrowclaw huffed. "I won't let you get dragged off." Midnightpaw stirred from his blind panic, risking a long look at the brown warrior. Honeybuzz took his chance—he shoved Midnightpaw out of his little corner and into Yarrowclaw, splashing all the way.

"We need to get Indigo," Weevilsight coughed as the group trudged out of the medicine den. "They're in the quarantine den. They're still too weak to move through all this."

"I'll get him, I'll get him," Yarrowclaw huffed. She squinted as the full force of the rain once again burned her eyes. The floodwaters dragged at her fur, trying to keep her still.The camp was empty now, everyone else had evacuated. They knew Yarrowclaw couldn't die. No force of nature could contain her! The longer Yarrowclaw stayed in camp, the easier it was to believe that.

"Wait, look," Tallowheart wheezed, wincing as the effort of talking pressed against his broken ribs. A pale ginger figure slipped around the curve of the shipwreck, keeping a lilac cat on their paws.

"Pearpaw?" Troutpool gasped as Pearpaw helped Indigo shove through the heavy waters. "Why haven't you left camp yet? It isn't safe for an apprentice!"

"It isn't safe for Indigo, either, and no one was helping him!" Pearpaw snapped. She buckled as Indigo fell further into her, continuing to cough. Her shaking legs pressed hard into the unseen sand below and shoved Indigo back up.

"Knew I'd like this place," Indigo chuckled weakly. "Could do without the water, though."

"Wave!" Weevilsight screeched, her dark green eyes fixed on the rushing waters flowing over the rocks. Even though Yarrowclaw could not see or hear another massive wave, she knew Weevilsight's clairvoyance was never wrong. Yarrowclaw shoved Honeybuzz and Midnightpaw toward the western walls.

"Brace!" Yarrowclaw ordered as the creaking sound of another massive wave finally reached her ears.

The clerics and their patients swarmed the rocks, pressing themselves flat against the slick stones. Everyone breathed as deep as they could as the next tidal wave smacked over the entire camp. The ocean shoved Yarrowclaw into the wall as hard as it could. She couldn't move, even with her star-blessed invinciblity. The pressure shoved the air out of Yarrowclaw's chest, but she refused to breathe in water. Her face shoved into Honeybuzz's flank, and Midnightpaw's yowl of panic was suffocated by the onslaught.

When the chaos receeded, the water covered Yarrowclaw's belly. Pearpaw, Indigo, and everyone from the medicine den remained along the western wall, leaning against the rocks, struggling for breath. But they were there. Thanks to Yarrowclaw.

"Swim," Yarrowclaw barked, once more shoving Honeybuzz where she needed him to go. The bandages around Midnightpaw's face came undone from the water weight, revealing half-scarred and snarled red marks crossing over his swollen left eye. He instintively hovered at Pearpaw's side, just far enough to stay out of Indigo's way, but just close enough to keep his good eye on his friend. Tallowheart whimpered in pain, shaking as the water splashed against his bruised chest, but Troutpool and Estherfern helped him on.

The brambles of the camp exit were somehow still in place, forming a tight tunnel with barely enough room to breach the water. Not for them, then. The rest of the brambles that typically lined the rock walls were gone, so that would be the group's way out. Yarrowclaw scaled the smallest of those rocks. Her brittle paws rubbed hard against the rain-slick boulders. Honeybuzz climbed up and over, splashing hard in the open waters beyond camp. One by one, the occupants of the medicine den helped one another over the wall and out of their flooded camp.

The beach was gone. It lurked under the belly-high floodwaters, claimed by the feral ocean. Still, the ocean could not claim everything. RippleClan gathered at the treeline, panting and shivering. They yowled the clerics' names, running back to the water to help their kin to shore.

"Pearpaw!" Icepaw bolted ahead of the adults, charging at his sister. "You were supposed to be behind me!" Icepaw dragged his sister out of the water. Scaleripple slipped behind him and helped Indigo limp into the safe confines of thick, rolling roots.

"Midnightpaw!" When the wounded black apprentice made it to the forest, Rattlepelt wrapped herself around him, shaking harder than anyone else. Further back, Yarrowclaw saw Brightreed nursing his bramble-torn pelt, blood dissolving in the heavy rain. Wildclaw sat hunched in on herself, Whiteflower and Shrewflame on either side. She was wailing.

Yarrowclaw could not see Valleypaw.

"Stormjump!" Honeybuzz yowled as Oilstar and Carnationspeckle met the survivors at the edge of the muddy grass. "Stormjump! Where are my sons?" Oh. Had Yarrowclaw not been in the mindset that she could fight the ocean and win, her stomach might have dropped. She had been focused on getting everyone she saw out, not checking who should have been there in the first place.

"They weren't in the medicine den?" Oilstar gulped, voice strained. Honeybuzz's pupils blew out wide. "Honeybuzz, I saw them, your kits were sleeping with you tonight, you wanted to watch over Stormjump's infection."

"I sent them back!" Honeybuzz shrieked. His cicada wing necklace, still clinging to his neck after all the chaos, whipped against his neck as he spun back toward the camp. "Stormjump felt better! They're in the nursery!"

The nursery… the nursery with a giant rock in front of it… the nursery Yarrowclaw didn't think to check.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Yarrowclaw stand in the rain. Yarrowclaw says, "Treat the injured. I can do it. I can get your family out. I can't die."]

It's fine. You're fine. You're you. You'll get them out. They'll be fine. You'll bring them back. They can't die if you don't let them. Just go back.

No! Yarrowclaw was mortal! She'd probably drown trying to save them! She couldn't get them alone! She could lead a patrol. Yes, that was it. She just needed help. The vision never suggested it was all on Yarrowclaw.

Honeybuzz ran for the water, but Yarrowclaw instinctively stepped in front of him.

"No," she growled. "Treat the injured. I can do it. I can get your family out. I can't die." Her spastic eyes stuck onto the nearest cat. "Carnationspeckle. You're a good swimmer. We have to get them." Yarrowclaw almost wanted Carnationspeckle to reject, to pull rank, to force Yarrowclaw to stay with the rest of the Clan while other cats, cats who knew when their bodies were tired, cats who could give up, took her place. But Carnationspeckle turned to her mate, fear raising her hackles. Oilstar nodded.

"Venturedapple, we need your strength," Carnationspeckle called into the grieving, shocked crowd. Venturedapple emerged tall, eyes hard and ready.

"They're my kits!" Honeybuzz yowled. He tried to skirt around Yarrowclaw, but Splashtuft, Drumtooth, and Leathermask (who had luckily woken up from whatever blow he'd sustained earlier) lunged at their brother. The littermates pulled Honeybuzz into the crowd by his scruff as the gold and white cleric screamed, "They need me!"

"You're barely standing!" Drumtooth snarled, pinning his brother into the muddy grass.

"Your kits don't need their father drowning tonight," Leathermask said. He smacked Honeybuzz's flailing paws down.

"They can't end up like Mom," Honeybuzz whined. His claws pulled up large chunks of grass.

"The others will get them," Splashtuft promised. Of course they would. No one around Yarrowclaw would die. Whether StarClan simply knew it to be true for the night or whether they blessed her, Yarrowclaw was the ship that could bring them back to shore.

Yarrowclaw left Honeybuzz pinned by his brothers and charged back into the water with Carnationspeckle and Venturedapple behind her. Water now flowed steadily over the tops of the rock wall. Carnationspeckle leaped over the camp walls and dove into the submerged clearing. Water flew up Yarrowclaw's nose as she followed. The rock she had seen earlier, rolled in front of the nursery by the impact of the first massive wave, still sat, trapping its occupants within.

"Stormjump!" Venturedapple called, floating into the barricading rock. "Kits! Can you hear us!"

"Venturedapple!" It was Morningkit! His voice slipped through the rain-filled cracks of the blockage. "Help!"

"Everyone on this side," Carnationspeckle barked, swimming around the den. Yarrowclaw waded after her. "Venturedapple, Yarrowclaw, you need to push this boulder as hard as you can. I'm going to dive and dig out the sand around the rock, make it easier to move. Now push!" Venturedapple positioned himself next to Yarrowclaw. His long fur floated in the churning water. Carnationspeckle breathed deep and shoved her head under. Yarrowclaw braced her front paws on the rock. Venturedapple copied her. Hind legs digging into the sand, shaking under the pressure of the moving floodwaters, they pushed.

Don't think about Carnationspeckle. She doesn't matter. She doesn't even need to dig. You don't need any of them to save the kits. You can move this boulder all by yourself. StarClan chose you for this. Your legs don't hurt. You can't feel pain. You don't get tired. This isn't a bad thing. This is the best thing that could happen. Push the rock. Save those kits.

"Be kind to yourself, Yarrowclaw."

Yarrowclaw yowled as the boulder finally, finally, rolled a mouse-length back. Yarrowclaw couldn't see inside. Carnationspeckle pulled her head out of the water, sand caught in her fur. Yarrowclaw's legs gave out as Carnationspeckle and Venturedapple hooked their paws through the opening. With one last shove, the rock tumbled out from the entrance of the nursery.

The nursery was almost flooded to the ceiling. The deep, safe confines that Yarrowclaw spent her earliest days were hidden in the flood. A dark ginger form floated by the ceiling like debris far at sea. Three tom-kits clung to Stormjump's back. Their claws drew blood from their beloved mother, but she kept their small heads above the rising water. Stormjump's face was… peaceful.

Yarrowclaw grabbed Beekit by the scruff. He looked eerily like his father; same golden head and tail, same blue eyes, same white torso. It made the night loop in Yarrowclaw's head as Carnationspeckle pulled Patchkit and Morningkit close. Venturedapple grabbed Stormjump's still scruff and pulled her body out of the nursery.

"Mom told us to hold on to her," Patchkit stammered. "We held on, but, but we hurt her!" Carnationspeckle lifted Patchkit onto Venturedapple's sturdy back. Morningkit climbed on top of Carnationspeckle

"Where's Dad?" Beekit cried, squirming in Yarrowclaw's chattering jaws.

"We're bringing you to him," Carnationspeckle promised, voice breaking. "Just stay on us. You did so well. Stormjump is so proud of you." With the kits balanced as high above the water as they could carry them, the three brown and white cats waded toward the watery rocks and the forest beyond.

This didn't make sense. No one around Yarrowclaw was supposed to die. Why wasn't Stormjump moving? This wasn't what the vision said!

A ship could still bring a body to shore, it seemed.

(Yarrowclaw: 35, female, warrior, cold, fire master)

(Wildclaw: 92, female, deputy, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

(Rattlepelt: 83, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Asterblaze: 47, male, caretaker, thoughtful, inventor and innovator)

(Valleypaw: 9, male, caretaker apprentice, strict, avid play-fighter)

(Billowhaze: 35, male, historian, loyal, good kit-sitter

(Brightreed: 32, male, warrior, righteous, student of art)

(Oilstar: 104, female, leader, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Honeybuzz: 48, male, cleric, daring, sklled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Midnightpaw: 9, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, always wandering)

(Gingerspring: 16, male, cleric, charismatic, human expert, good hunter)

(Estherfern: 134, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Weevilsight: 35, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)

(Tallowheart: 36, male, historian, nervous, good swimmer)

(Troutpool: 61, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sight)

(Pearpaw: 10, female, historian apprentice, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories)

(Indigo: 40, half tom (he/they), teacher, playful, incredible runner, great teacher)

(Icepaw: 10, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Carnationspeckle: 102, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Drumtooth: 48, trans male, caretaker, loyal, great hunter, clever)

(Leathermask: 48, male, warrior, confident, good fighter, eloquent speaker)

(Splashtuft: 48, male, historian, adventurous, fast runner, student of art)

(Venturedapple: 88, male, codekeeper, cold, eloquent speaker)

(Morningkit: 3, male kit, bossy, eye for details)

(Patchkit: 3, male, kit, charming, interested in Clan history)

(Beekit: 3, male, kit, noisy, quick to help)

Yarrowclaw heals from her mangled leg with a small scar. As she returns to patrols, however, Estherfern and Gingerpaw ask to speak to her about a vision.

[Image ID: Gingerpaw brings Yarrowclaw to Estherfern, saying, "I brought her, just like you asked." Yarrowclaw now has a scar along her back ankle, with - CONDITION: MANGLED LEG written under her. Under Estherfern, it says + GUIDANCE FROM STARCLAN: THE SHIP OF YARROW (VISION)]

---

If Yarrowclaw wanted to avoid hallucinating her long dead brother and convincing herself she was StarClan's invulnerable warrior, she needed a routine.

Sandhollow helped her craft the routine shortly after the horse path incident. A patrol at sunhigh and sunset every day, without fail. A hearty serving at each meal. A strict sleep schedule. Talks with Sandhollow or another mediator every half moon, just to check in. All of those little details added up to maintain balance over Yarrowclaw's mind. Yet for moons, Yarrowclaw had been unable to follow that routine, because LynxClan decided to be mouse-brains and kill Downstar over a bunch of crabs.

Getting Honeybuzz's approval to go back on patrol was one of the best things to happen in Yarrowclaw's life. Sure, the wound across her back ankle scarred, a permanent reminder of how a small cut on the right spot could kill a warrior. But now Yarrowclaw could act on the burning in her blood and help her Clan. She could also get away from her brother's flirting in the medicine den. Good for Anchovystrike, finally winning Weevilsight over, but bleh, did they have to make comments like that in front of Yarrowclaw?

As a blistering sunhigh crawled over RippleClan, Yarrowclaw led a hunting patrol through the bramble-lined entrance. A basket, heavy with mice and rats, hung on Yarrowclaw's neck. The warm scent of dough mixed with the bloody fresh-kill under Yarrowclaw's muzzle and made her mouth water. She quickly placed the basket beside the fresh-kill pile and let Rapidleaf, Whiteflower, and Pearpaw (the other members of the patrol) sort their catches. Yarrowclaw jogged up to the oven, where Asterblaze and Shrewflame carefully watched as Icepaw shuffled a large flat rock out from above the fire. Flat chunks of golden bread sat on the rock, steam rising from their hard surfaces.

"When did we get flour?" Yarrowclaw asked, sniffing the hot bread as Icepaw let go of the large stick that allowed cats to slide the stone slab in and out of the oven, just for special meals like this.

"We traded some of our clams and seaweed with WheatClan," Asterblaze explained. "We're going to pour mincemeat over the bread. Stormjump and the elders get the first pieces, but then it goes to whoever asks first." Yarrowclaw eyed the glistening bread. Biting into it once the juice from the mincemeat soaked through? It would be glorious.

"This needs to cool," Shrewflame said, gently nosing a piece of bread, "but when it's done, you can take some."

"We're the ones making the bread, we should get a piece," Icepaw huffed. His tail brushed against the hot stone. He hissed and jumped back.

"We'll see, Icepaw," Shrewflame chuckled as Icepaw rapidly licked his burnt tail.

"Yarrowclaw!" Gingerpaw trotted out of the medicine den, maple seed necklace swinging across his chest. He squinted in the harsh, cloudless light.

"Gingerpaw, do you want some bread?" Icepaw asked. "Wait, it is still Gingerpaw, isn't it?" Oh, right! The half-moon meeting had been the night before.

"It is," Gingerpaw grumbled, whiskers drooping. "Estherfern says I'm 'too immature' to graduate."

"Oh, that's not true!" Shrewflame huffed. "You're just chatty! If everyone was held back for being chatty, I'd still be an apprentice." Icepaw and Asterblaze both laughed at that.

"I need Yarrowclaw," Gingerpaw sighed. "Can you come with me?" Back to the medicine den? Yarrowclaw just got out of there! Still, Gingerpaw wouldn't call for Yarrowclaw without reason. But the food…

Yarrowclaw forced herself away from the oven and joined Gingerpaw. Her pelt itched in the heat as the medicine den drew closer. Weevilsight, Honeybuzz, and Troutpool were by the cleric's oven, preparing their concoctions. Yarrowclaw's curiousity peeked over her hesitancy, but only for a moment.

Estherfern waited inside the medicine den, laid out in her nest. Her sunlit eyes studied Yarrowclaw with the same detached, all-knowing gaze Yarrowclaw grew up with. Yarrowclaw's nest was still there, still stinking of healing wounds.

"I brought her, just like you asked," Gingerpaw sighed. He stalked past Estherfern and crawled into his nest.

"You're going to participate, Gingerpaw," Estherfern huffed, spinning back and nipping Gingerpaw's foot. "This is a cleric's most important job. You can nap later." Gingerpaw grumbled unintelligibly but shuffled closer.

"What do you need from me, Estherfern?" Yarrowclaw asked, taking an awkward seat in front of the old cleric.

"I need to talk to you about something I saw at StarClan's Shrine," Estherfern explained carefully. "I believe it strongly relates to you." Now that was a dangerous thing to tell a cat like Yarrowclaw. She buried her tension deep. "When I dreamed at the Shrine last night, I received a visit from your mother. She provided me with a vision." Harvest… Yarrowclaw struggled to remember her face at times. Did her spirit visit the camp? What did she think of Yarrowclaw and her brothers?

"She showed us both the vision, technically," Gingerpaw chuckled. Estherfern smacked his muzzle with her tail.

"In this vision," Estherfern said, "I stood on a water-washed rock in the middle of the ocean. A violent storm raged around me. The waves nearly pushed me into the water. Yet as the storm grew more violent, something began to grow under my paws. A mass of vines and leaves stretched underneath me. It lifted me from the rock and above the chaos of the waves. It was a ship, just like this ship we now live in, back when the humans sent it to sea. But the ship was not made of wood. Growing between the plant matter were masses of white flowers. Yarrow flowers. The ship was built from the stems and leaves of impossibly strong yarrow. It carried me through the storm until land appeared on the horizon. Now I've grown familiar with how StarClan shares information through metaphor and symbolism. This ship of yarrow is a clear message. You were that ship, Yarrowclaw."

"No," Yarrowclaw immediately huffed. "No, no, I can't be involved in a prophecy." She hurried to her paws. Her muscles ached from restraining the storm inside.

"It's not something you have a choice about, Yarrowclaw," Estherfern sighed.

"StarClan can't pick me," Yarrowclaw snapped. "If they pick me, it will prove I'm right, and I'll get myself killed." Gingerpaw cocked his head at Yarrowclaw's odd phrasing, but Yarrowclaw barely noticed.

"Something's coming to RippleClan," Estherfern said, getting up. "You will be a sanctuary, a savior. You are destined to weather the storm, whatever it be."

"And you had to tell me that?" Yarrowclaw groaned. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"It's not really what you're going to do," Gingerpaw explained awkwardly. "It's more what we're going to do about you. We wanted to let you know that we're going to talk to Oilstar about your duties. If you're a ship in this story, then whoever is on you, or I guess near you, should be safe from whatever's coming. So—"

"I'm not staying in camp," Yarrowclaw hissed, no longer afraid to hide her widening eyes and curling lips. "I can't stay in camp."

"You aren't trapped here," Estherfern grunted with a dismissive twitch of her whiskers. "But keeping you close to as many cats as possible could save lives."

"You don't even know what's going to happen!" Yarrowclaw yowled. "I—no, I can't have this conversation." She turned out of the den.

"Where are you going?" Estherfern snapped as Gingerpaw slunk back to his nest. "We need to talk to Oilstar."

"It's none of your concern!" Yarrowclaw growled, stepping back into the sun. Curious glances passed her way as she marched to the warrior's den. Hopefully Sandhollow would be inside. She needed someone sane to talk to.

You're special. You're chosen. Of course you're chosen. You can save them. You can save them all. You'll need to train, you have to be able to fight off what's coming, but what if it's not a fox or bear or wolf, what if its nature? You should go to StarClan's Shrine, you need to know more, go right now go go go go go—

No! Yarrowclaw growled at herself as she entered the warrior's den. Half the Clan was sleeping through the hot midday, relaxed in their nests and on top of one another. Yarrowclaw jumped into her nest, even though she knew she wouldn't sleep.

She couldn't be special. For her own sake, she could not be special. She wouldn't allow it.

(Yarrowclaw: 32, female, warrior, cold, fire master)

(Asterblaze: 44, male, caretaker, thoughtful, inventor and innovator)

(Shrewflame: 21, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)

(Icepaw: 7, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Gingerpaw: 13, male, cleric apprentice, charismatic, curious about humans, moss-ball hunter)

(Estherfern: 131, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

Sandhollow wonders if he is destined for something greater as his sister gives birth to three kits.

[Image ID: Sandhollow and Yellowburst approach Stormjump and her three newborns from the distance, with Yellowburst calling, "Hurry, we have to meet them!" Under Stormjump, it says - CONDITION: PREGNANT, + CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH. The first kit looks just like Honeybuzz, and under him, it reads NEW PLAYER: BEEKIT, 0, MALE, NOISY. The next kit is white with ginger patches. Under him, it says NEW PLAYER: PATCHKIT, 0, MALE, CHARMING. The last kit is golden with a blanket of tinted white across his forehead and back. Under him, it reads NEW PLAYER: MORNINGKIT, 0, MALE, BOSSY.]

(Stormjump: 28, female, caretaker, charismatic, incredible cook)

(Beekit: 0, male, kit, noisy)

(Patchkit: 0, male, kit, charming)

(Morningkit: 0, male, kit, bossy)

(Yellowburst: 28, female, caretaker, adventurous, great mediator)

(Sandhollow: 28, male, mediator, ambitious, lore keeper)

Midnightpaw is apprenticed to Anchovystrike while Valleypaw gets to learn under Asterblaze to harness his excitement to fight. Before they head out, though, Wildclaw and Rattlepelt apologize for any neglect they may have felt in the nursery as they both fought their grief.

[Image ID: Rattlepelt and Wildclaw talk to Midnightpaw and Valleypaw, now apprentices. Under Midnightpaw, it says LEVEL UP! MIDNIGHTKIT → MIDNIGHTPAW, POLITE → OBLIVIOUS. Under Valleypaw, it says LEVEL UP! VALLEYKIT → VALLEYPAW, QUIET → STRICT. Rattlepelt says, "We just… don't want you to think we weren't utterly in love with you." Under her, it says - CONDITION: GRIEVING.]

(Midnightpaw: 6, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, always wandering)

(Valleypaw: 6, male, caretaker apprentice, strict, avid play-fighter)

(Rattlepelt: 80, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Wildclaw: 89, female, deputy, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

Icepaw and Pearpaw meet their long-lost kin at the Gathering.

[Image ID: Icepaw and Pearpaw meet Nimblestep and Quickpaw, the latter of whom is now an apprentice. Pearpaw says, "So… how do we do this?"]

---

For a few days, Icepaw wasn't sure he would make it to his first Gathering. He'd been stuck in the medicine den, his head screaming to shut out the light and noise. Shrewflame did his best to continue his lessons, giving him the same overview of herbs that mediator and caretaker apprentices were expected to learn, but he couldn't join Shrewflame on patrol. He couldn't spar with Pearpaw and Dovepaw. All he could do was think about what his mother and sister would look like as the full moon drew closer and closer.

Yet, by the grace of StarClan or whatever Celestial watched over headaches, Icepaw still made it. He still got to walk alongside his fellow apprentices near the back of the crowd as they made their way to the Leader's Stone. The full moon glistened in the hot, cloudless night. Oilstar and Wildclaw proudly led the way, each eagerly discussing how to share their goods with the other four Clans. Baskets heavy with offerings from the sea dangled off warriors' necks. Pearpaw in particular had a basket of seashells, perfect for decoration. The seashells jingled together as Pearpaw walked alongside Icepaw and the pair listened to Dovepaw's rambling.

"Wolverineheart promised I could meet her friend Deerswipe tonight!" Dovepaw chirped, bouncing around the apprentices. "She's half-blind too. They spar together all the time! And now that SlugClan's not mad at us, Wolverineheart said she and Deerswipe can show me some tricks!"

"Was she part of the raid?" Icepaw muttered, unable to stop his hackles from rising.

"What raid?" Midnightpaw asked from behind the older apprentices. Valleypaw, who walked alongside his brother, kicked at Midnightpaw's feet.

"You know what raid!" Valleypaw huffed.

"No, because there's been two," Midnightpaw chirped innocently, stumbling back into a steady pace. "There was SlugClan breaching camp, and then there was LynxClan stealing our crabs."

"We're talking about a SlugClan warrior," Valleypaw groaned, rolling his eyes. "Why would we talk about LynxClan?"

"Midnightpaw's fine, Valley," Pearpaw huffed, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter if Deerswipe was part of that attack or not. We listen to our leaders, and we talk through what happened at the Gathering. That's what Clan life is like."

Icepaw relaxed at his sister's wise words, but something twisted in his chest. Yes, that was what Clan life was like. Yet none of them were technically ever meant to live that life. Dovepaw chose it, sure, but the other apprentices were less than a moon old when their mothers found them. They only had theories as to what happened with Midnightpaw and Valleypaw's birth mother. And for Icepaw and Pearpaw… well, their fate was decided for them before they were even born, by two mollies Icepaw never met. He could only hear secondary tales of Lemmy's motivations, and wonder why Potterypool agreed to murder his father. At least she felt bad about it afterward. Yet that did not stop the twisting in Icepaw's chest.

He recognized the great cliffside leading up to the Leader's Stone from Puddlewhisper's stories. He could see glimpses of the great bonfire through the distant shrubs. The hushed purrs of countless cats filled his ears. Oilstar and Wildclaw were already up and over by the time Icepaw and the other apprentices got close. Just before Icepaw could follow the rest of his Clan up, however, Scaleripple stepped in front of him.

"A few rules before you go up," Scaleripple said, his blue-feathered tail high. "Stay with us while the leaders give their announcements. We can socialize when they're done. Stay in the clearing. Be smart about what you share."

"Wolverineheart told me all that," Dovepaw huffed, cocking his head. "Why are you? You aren't our mentor."

"I'm a teacher now," Scaleripple said with a hint of pride in his purr. "I help apprentices. That's my job."

"Don't be rude, Dovepaw," Valleypaw huffed, gently smacking Dovepaw's side.

"I wasn't being rude, I was asking a question," Dovepaw said, earnest in his naivity.

"Let's go," Pearpaw said, weaving around Scaleripple and up the cliffside path. Icepaw was right on his sister's tail, heart racing as the voices above grew louder and louder.

It wasn't the size of the crowd that stunned Icepaw. He knew to expect more cats than he could count, with caretakers uncovering hidden cookware and constructing makeshift ovens and stoves. He knew each of the four leaders already on the Leader's Stone, from top to bottom: Eelstar, Gentlestar, Ospreystar, and Lettucestar. No, as Icepaw stared out across the crowd, he saw one cat in particular, sitting at the front of their Clan. It was a brown rosette covered tabby whose blue eyes caught in the firelight. She was thin, yet nimble in frame, sitting tall and tense, staring at the Leader's Stone. Icepaw couldn't explain how he knew with such certainty, but he knew. That was Nimblestep. That was his mother.

"Icepaw, let's sit near the front!" Midnightpaw called, charging past Icepaw. Icepaw stumbled forward, and the rest of his Clan pulled him through the crowd. By the times he got his bearings, he was close to the front of RippleClan, sitting beside Midnightpaw, Dovepaw, and Pearpaw, sans basket. Valleypaw lurked further into the crowd by Asterblaze. Icepaw searched for Nimblestep once more. Nimblestep's eyes sweeped RippleClan. She was looking for her kits.

"I want to give my Clan plenty of time to celebrate tonight," Oilstar called as she found her place on the bottom of the Leader's Stone. "Let's go through this moon's news quickly."

Icepaw struggled to focus as the other leaders gave their reports. Icepaw knew he should pay attention, Shrewflame would probably ask him questions later. But how could he pay attention when Nimblestep was so close by? Icepaw could barely sit still. Nimblestep was right there. He knew she would be, but to see her so soon, so suddenly…

The five Clans melted together faster than Icepaw expected. He hadn't even realized the leaders had finished delivering their news. Had the Clans cheered his name somewhere in all that noise? He couldn't tell.

"Icepaw." Oh thank StarClan, Paleseed was there. The gray speckled mediator brushed against her nephew, with Pearpaw lingering beside her. "Your birth mother is here. Do you want to meet her?"

"I already see her," Icepaw said as the SlugClan party merged with the rest of the Clans. Nimblestep swerved between cats, deftly navigating the chaotic reunions toward her own chaotic reunion. Her tail inched upward, ever hopeful. In Icepaw's eye, flashes of Puddlewhisper's blood still stained Nimblestep's mouth.

"I can stay with you while you meet her," Paleseed promised softly.

"No thank you," Pearpaw gulped. "I—We want to meet her alone." No! There was no "we" in that decision! Icepaw shook his head rapidly, but Paleseed merely touched noses with Pearpaw and dissolved into the crowd. She was gone before Icepaw could choke out a word.

"Pearpaw!" Icepaw whined.

"We shouldn't have someone else minding us for this," Pearpaw whispered as Nimblestep drew closer. "Nimblestep's our mother." Some mother, Icepaw thought.

"Is it you?" Nimblestep croaked as the crowd began to part and find places to share tongues. "Icepaw? Pearpaw?" Her voice quivered.

"Hi, Nimblestep," Pearpaw gulped. Icepaw didn't know whether to puff himself up and stand in front of his sister or allow his sister to take the lead. He stayed right next to Pearpaw, taking in Nimblestep's features. Pearpaw looked nothing like Nimblestep; the former was round and a bit short, while Nimblestep was tall and thin. Did Icepaw have his mother's angular face? Or did his features align more with his long-lost father?

"You're really here," Nimblestep purred. Her whiskers suddenly danced over Icepaw's pelt as she sniffed her lost son. Flashes of an event Icepaw could never have remembered overwhelmed his senses; teeth slipping off of his pelt, wood smacking into his skull, forever damaging the brain within. Icepaw's head throbbed in response.

"Hold on," Icepaw stammered, dancing away from Nimblestep. "Shouldn't Quickpaw be here?" Pearpaw's blue eyes (the only thing she shared with her birth mother) glistened at the thought of her unknown sister. Nimblestep's eyes glowed too.

"She's just with her mentor," Nimblestep eagerly explained. "She's going to be a mediator. This way, hurry." Nimblestep jogged through the crowd, but kept pausing to make sure Icepaw and Pearpaw were behind her. Both apprentices followed their birth mother, eyeing each other as they went.

Quickpaw sat with an older black tom among a gaggle of mediators from across the five Clans. Sandhollow and Slushtrail sat in their number, close to the young apprentice. Quickpaw looked exactly like Nimblestep. They shared the same brown fur and black markings. She had the spots to fill Nimblestep's rosettes. She was just as thin and clearly taller than Icepaw and Pearpaw. Yet her eyes were a rich dark brown, moving away from the family's pattern of blue.

When Quickpaw spotted her family through the crowd, she said something quickly to her mentor, who caught Nimblestep's eye. When Quickpaw's mentor nodded, the young brown molly bounded through her fellow mediators and straight to Nimblestep's side. Nimblestep nuzzled her daughter, purring deep. Quickpaw returned the gesture, stretching her head high to rub against her mother. Icepaw felt ill.

"You made it," Quickpaw gasped, oggling Icepaw and Pearpaw. She took in every detail of her littermates' pelts, but Icepaw could only look at Nimblestep. Her eyes shouldn't have been so relaxed, her pupils slit and calm. That was the look Puddlewhisper had when Icepaw became an apprentice. That was a mother's look.

Nimblestep did not deserve a mother's look.

"So…" Pearpaw gulped, "how do we do this?"

"I want to talk to Quickpaw," Icepaw blurted, louder than he intended. "Just Quickpaw. Uh, and Pearpaw too, I mean. Not Nimblestep. Later. Just… over here!" Icepaw spotted an empty spot on the far side of the clearing, beyond the Leader's Stone. Icepaw's claws dug up grass as he ran through the crowd. Whatever cries of shock his family gave, the sound of the Gathering covered it up.

Icepaw skidded to a stop beyond the chaos of the five Clans. When he glanced back, his racing heart eased. Pearpaw and Quickpaw were on their way. Nimblestep was lost within the crowd.

"What are you doing?" Pearpaw gasped as she and her lost sister neared their brother. "We can't just run away from Nimblestep like that! She's been dying to see us!" Yes, dying—like what happened to Downstar when SlugClan sent a whole patrol to steal Icepaw and Pearpaw from the only life they knew. Icepaw squeezed his eyes tight.

"Later, Pearpaw," Icepaw said through gritted teeth. "I can't do it now. I just can't." Icepaw finally looked up and locked eyes with Quickpaw. Did Nimblestep save her because they both looked the same? Would Icepaw be in her place if Quickpaw had been the one to slip out of Nimblestep's jaws that fateful day? Had Pearpaw even been considered for salvation?

"What would she have called us," Icepaw finally huffed, "if she got to keep us? She named you Quick. Who would we have been?"

"Icepaw, Nimblestep probably didn't—" Pearpaw began.

"You would have been Sleek," Quickpaw said. She said it with such blunt sincerity that Icepaw snapped out of his spiraling thoughts. "Pearpaw, you would have been Silent. Quick, Sleek, and Silent." Hmm. Sleek. Icepaw had to admit, he didn't hate the name.

"I'm sorry, Icepaw's being rude," Pearpaw stammered, looping around Quickpaw. "I'm so happy I get to meet you. I've spent so long wondering what you would be like!"

"Me too," Quickpaw purred. She hesistated before Pearpaw, glancing at Icepaw all the while. Suddenly, Quickpaw dove into Pearpaw and rubbed against her shoulder. Pearpaw squealed at the sudden touch but did not recoil. A moment later, Pearpaw rubbed into her sister's neck with a noisy purr.

"Did Nimblestep tell you she attacked our mom?" Icepaw asked before his littermates could start sharing tongues and forget they were ever apart. "Puddlewhisper, I mean. She raised us. Nimblestep almost bit her tail off."

"My mentor, Crowtail, did," Quickpaw admitted, still purring as she moved back from Pearpaw. "He was there. Mom said she was sorry. She got overwhelmed."

"She still hurt our mom," Icepaw growled with a thrash of his tail. He pulled himself back, swallowing the bile climbing his throat. "But you… who are you? I mean, what are you like? I mean… I don't know what I mean." Icepaw kicked at the grass.

"I'm just… me," Quickpaw said, cocking her head slightly. "I don't really know how to describe myself. I like moss-ball. I like visiting the river, swimming is really fun. Uh… oh, don't tell Mom, but most of the time, when I need a break from her, I hide in this little nook in the roots of the Leader's Tree and sing to myself. I like singing."

"You hide from her?" Pearpaw repeated, taking a seat. "Why would you ever hide from your mom? Is she mean?"

"No!" Quickpaw stammered. "The opposite. She won't leave me alone sometimes. She always wants to know what I'm doing and if she can help. I couldn't wait to be an apprentice." Quickpaw glanced over her shoulder, as though Nimblestep would ignore Icepaw's wishes and storm into the conversation.

"Did she tell you how she left us?" Icepaw asked.

"In a way," Quickpaw groaned. "She told me she only managed to save me. Your meditators visited camp a few moons ago, and I bothered Sandhollow until he told me about you two." Quickpaw cocked her tail at Pearpaw and said, "You're always sticking close to Icepaw, and you get upset when something bad happens to a hero in stories."

"I want them to be happy," Pearpaw whined playfully.

"You love to stick your nose into everything," Quickpaw said, now pointing at Icepaw. "You're too smart for your own good, but you have a 'warrior's heart', whatever that means."

"Was Sandhollow complimenting us or insulting us?" Icepaw chuckled.

"You're also rude," Quickpaw pointed out. "Mom's always tried her best with me. You can at least see that she's trying."

"That's what I've been telling him!" Pearpaw huffed, making a face at Icepaw.

"She's not the one I want to get to know," Icepaw grunted. "She chose you, not us. Well, I want to choose you, and I want you to choose us. I want another sister."

"That's why I'm going to be a mediator!" Quickpaw chirped, ears perking. "I can make lots of excuses to see you!" Icepaw's ears perked up too. The twisting force in his chest unwound itself.

"Does SlugClan have any teachers?" Pearpaw asked. "Maybe Icepaw can get Shrewflame to help SlugClan with the new role!"

"We have one," Quickpaw hummed, "but I have a better idea. How do you feel about sneaking out of camp?"

"Quickpaw," Icepaw said with the seriousness of a battle-hardened warrior. "I have wanted to sneak out of camp since I was born."

"That doesn't make any sense," Quickpaw laughed, playfully flinging her paw at Icepaw.

"Wouldn't it be better to make sure the adults approve our visits?" Pearpaw gulped. "I don't want to make my mentor upset."

"The adults are why Mom never saw you before tonight," Quickpaw whispered, leaning in. "We're shouldn't have to wait until graduation before we can visit each other. We should have our own Gatherings!"

"We could meet where SlugClan, WheatClan, and AshClan meet," Icepaw purred, ideas sparking wildly. "We can meet on the new moon! That way we don't have to worry about missing the actual Gathering."

"It'll be fun, Pearpaw!" Quickpaw said, nudging the pale ginger molly. "Don't you want a sister?"

"I really do," Pearpaw groaned, one ear angling back. "Oh… alright, let's do it. The Littermates Gathering." Quickpaw and Icepaw cheered at the top of their lungs. Icepaw laughed at Quickpaw's cries, and Quickpaw laughed at Icepaw's laughter.

That was family, to him—choice. He wanted them, they wanted him, and none of them would let the others go.

(Icepaw: 7, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Dovepaw: 7, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, active imagination)

(Midnightpaw: 6, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, always wandering)

(Valleypaw: 6, male, caretaker apprentice, strict, avid play-fighter)

(Pearpaw: 7, female, historian apprentice, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories)

(Scaleripple: 50, male, teacher, lonesome, unusually strong fighter)

(Oilstar: 101, female, leader, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Paleseed: 63, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

Tallowheart gets tossed around by the ocean waves while fishing. It’s his good swimming that leaves him with just some broken ribs.

[Image ID: Tallowheart limps away from the ocean, muttering "Oww…" Under him, it reads + CONDITION: BROKEN RIBS.]

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)

(Carnationspeckle: 91, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Asterblaze: 36, male, caretaker, thoughtful, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Drumtooth: 37, trans male, caretaker, loyal, great hunter, clever)

(Rapidleaf: 107, female, warrior, lonesome, prophecy interpreter)

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)

(Scaleripple: 42, male, warrior, lonesome, formidable fighter)

(Yellowburst: 20, female, caretaker, adventurous, good mediator)

(Boughfur: 21, female, historian, righteous, great climber)

(Anchovystrike: 24, male, warrior, playful, unshakable StarClan link)

Asterblaze and Elmsprout reminisce about their old Clans when a WheatClan apprentice stumbles into the territory. They help him find his way home.

[Image ID: Elmsprout and Asterblaze speak with a black spotted apprentice. Asterblaze says, "We'll get you home, Fluffpaw." Under him, it reads LEVEL UP! CONSTANTLY FIDDLING WITH TOOLS → INVENTOR AND INNOVATOR.]

(Asterblaze: 43, male, caretaker, thoughtful, inventor and innovator)

(Elmsprout: 63, female, caretaker, charismatic, trusted advisor)

Icepaw gets apprenticed to Shrewflame and Pearpaw trains under Whiteflower. Puddlewhisper goes to inform Nimblestep of her kits’ apprenticeship and decision.

[Image ID: Puddlewhisper watches from afar as Shrewflame and Whiteflower guide Icepaw and Pearpaw, now in the same apprentice sprites, out of camp. Under Puddlewhisper, it says LEVEL UP! THOUGHTFUL → RIGHTEOUS, + CONDITION: MANGLED TAIL. Under Icepaw, it says LEVEL UP! ICEKIT → ICEPAW, UNRULY → FIERCE, + NEW SKILL: NEVER SITS STILL. Under Pearpaw, it says LEVEL UP! PEARKIT → PEARPAW, QUIET → RIGHTEOUS, + NEW SKILL: LOVER OF STORIES.]

---

Lettucestar and Oilstar both agreed at the Gathering that they would each apprentice Nimblestep's kits three days following the Gathering. At that time, a RippleClan patrol would meet SlugClan at the border, either with or without Icekit and Pearkit. Their absence would mark their decision. The kits had each emphatically told Puddlewhisper that they would stay in RippleClan, but as their apprenticeship drew closer and closer, Puddlewhisper couldn't help but wonder; would they change their minds?

As dawn approached, heralding the litter's apprenticeship, Puddlewhisper was the first in the nursery to wake up. All the kits were big enough that they needed their own nests, so Puddlewhisper found her side absent of warm faces. Icekit and Pearkit still had their nests close to Puddlewhisper, however. Icekit laid on his back, twitching in the depths of a dream while Pearkit laid in a peaceful lump, quietly dozing. Midnightkit and Valleykit had crawled into one another's nests over the course of the night, leaving Rattlepelt buried under her fox pelt alone. Stormjump, plump with her pregnancy, was dead to the world while Dovekit blocked Puddlewhisper's path out of the den. He had somehow gotten out of his nest and decided to sleep stretched out across the entrance like leather flooring. Puddlewhisper rolled her eyes. The sooner that odd lump of fur was in the apprentice's den, the better.

Puddlewhisper crept around Icekit and Pearkit. She nimbly stepped over Dovekit and into camp. It was still dark out, meaning that dawn patrols had yet to set out and no one had begun their day. The camp was quiet, save for the hum of the late night birds and the shifting presence of one of the caretakers outside. The waning gibbous moon hovered behind the shipwreck, turning the landmark into a dark shadow painted against Silverpelt.

To Puddlewhisper's surprise, she was not the first in camp to stir early. Paleseed hovered outside the apprentice's den, fiddling with moss. Paleseed spotted Puddlewhisper and paused with moss sticking between her claws.

"I'm just deconstructing Frostdancer's old nest," Paleseed whispered as Puddlewhisper approached. "We keep forgetting it's in here. Icekit and Pearkit can use some of this moss." Puddlewhisper nodded and sat next to her sister. A tickle crawled up her back despite the warm summer night. She stared into the empty apprentice's den and thought back to the days when all of her littermates crowded inside, eagerly sharing tales of their training deep into the night. Ripplefern's memory was a haze in the back of the den. Would she be there as Icekit and Pearkit decided on their futures?

"Puddle?" Paleseed purred, drawing her sister's eye. "Icekit and Pearkit already said they want to stay here. Why do you look so tense? Did they change their minds?"

"I don't think so," Puddlewhisper gulped. "Still… if I knew I had kin in another Clan, I would want to meet them."

"Whatever happens," Paleseed promised, grooming Puddlewhisper's neck, "you've been a good mother." Puddlewhisper licked Paleseed's ear. She bunted Paleseed's shoulder and, for a moment, pretended Nimblestep didn't exist, that she had been born a molly, that Icekit and Pearkit were forever, always, and unconditionally hers.

The pair sat in the well-trodden sand, each grooming the other as light leaked over the horizon. The Clan slowly stirred around them. Whiteflower and Shrewflame ran for the artisan's den as soon as they stirred. They nearly knocked over Downstar's almost-finished sculpture, ready to be painted and stored beside Weedfoot's image in a rocky off-shoot of the elder's den. Yarrowclaw limped out of the medicine den, her deep wound slowly forming into a neat scar. Halibutdusk, Rapidleaf, and Mitespark gathered around the fresh-kill pile, debating how they would handle the sunhigh meal.

When Dovekit charged out of the nursery and hassled Yarrowclaw, Puddlewhisper knew it was time to greet her kits. Paleseed sensed her sister shift beside her and stopped grooming her back.

"Make them look pretty for today," Paleseed hummed as Puddlewhisper headed for the nursery. Puddlewhisper stood a little taller as the den's interior came into view. Sure enough, everyone inside was awake. Midnightkit and Valleykit jogged past Puddlewhisper, leaving Rattlepelt alone to stretch and adjust her fox pelt. Stormjump stayed in her nest, weighed down with no reason to get up and go. Icekit and Pearkit whispered to each other, heads dipped low. Pearkit, however, perked up as Puddlewhisper came in.

"Mom," Pearkit said, jumping around Icekit and stopping at her mother's paws. "Do you know when Oilstar will call for the Clan?"

"I'm sure she won't wait too long," Puddlewhisper promised as Icekit joined his sister. "How do you both feel?"

"My head hurts a bit," Icekit admitted, tail twitching awkwardly, "but I'm ready to have the ceremony."

"And you both still…" Puddlewhisper gulped.

"We're staying, Mom," Pearkit promised. She bunted Puddlewhisper in the chest. "We can get to know our kin at the Gathering." Puddlewhisper purred deeply, all the trapped anxiety in her chest flooding out as she pulled Pearkit close and rapidly groomed her head. Icekit tried to step around the two mollies, but Puddlewhisper stuck out her hind leg and blocked him.

"You need to look nice for the ceremony, too," Puddlewhisper chuckled. Icekit groaned dramatically, but stayed where he was.

It wasn't long before Oilstar yowled from the top of the Shiprock, "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather below the Shiprock for a Clan meeting!" By then dawn had firmly settled itself across RippleClan, the sun forming a gibbous shape against the edge of the ocean. Icekit and Pearkit's fur was groomed to perfection, with not a single curvy hair out of place. Weedfoot had the same standard of perfection for Puddlewhisper's apprentice ceremony, so why should she stray from tradition?

Icekit and Pearkit flanked their mother as they all entered the camp clearing. With the pair at either side, Puddlewhisper preened a little; her kits would never outgrow her. Pearkit was shaping up to be a rather small molly, more round than tall, while Icekit had a fairly average build. Both already looked like little warriors, though. Oilstar stood on the Shiprock, her autumn decor glowing against the sunrise. How strange it was to see her standing in Downstar's spot, overlooking all of RippleClan. And by all, Puddlewhisper meant all of RippleClan; not a single cat had left for patrol yet.

"Stand at the front of the crowd," Puddlewhisper told her kits. She slipped away from Icekit and Pearkit and found an empty spot beside Paleseed, Lavendertwist, and Waspdawn. Icekit and Pearkit stood in front of the Shiprock. RippleClan curved around them like water around a rock. Wildclaw sat at the base of the Shiprock, as was her place as the Clan's new deputy. Another strange sight.

"Apprentice ceremonies are an exciting day in RippleClan," Oilstar began, speaking loud and strong. "This ceremony is especially interesting, because today we don't just ask the young cats before us if they are ready to train. We ask them if they wish to devote themselves to RippleClan." Oilstar stared at Icekit and Pearkit as she spoke her next words. "Icekit, Pearkit, you both joined RippleClan under tense circumstances. We didn't expect your birth mother to return, especially not as a SlugClan warrior. I can't continue this ceremony without apologizing to you both. RippleClan killed your father, Achilles, and drove your mother to flee and leave you behind. We have tried to earn your forgiveness, but we cannot keep you here if your heart calls for you to join your mother and sister in SlugClan."

"We want to stay here, Oilstar," Icekit yowled, nearly interuppting Oilstar. "I don't care how I ended up here. This is my home." A few cats cheered at Icekit's proud declaration, Lavendertwist among them. Waspdawn touched his nose to Puddlewhisper's pelt, pressing congratulations through her skin.

"Pearkit, you share this perspective?" Oilstar asked.

"Yes," Pearkit said. Her voice collapsed under her with another, louder cheer from RippleClan.

"Save the cheers for later!" Oilstar laughed as Icekit and Pearkit squirmed under the attention. "We have a ceremony to conduct! Usually I learn what path a kit's paws call them down before we gather, but there were other matters to settle. Icekit, Pearkit, what do you want to train as?"

"I want to be a teacher!" Icekit declared just as Pearkit tried to talk. "It's such a new role. I want the other Clans to have teachers too!"

"I want to know how the world works," Pearkit quickly added. "Can I train as a historian?"

"I have the perfect mentors for both of you," Oilstar purred. "Icekit, Pearkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. Icekit, Pearkit, until you earn your full names, you shall be known as Icepaw and Pearpaw." Icepaw and Pearpaw seemed to glow with the power of their new names. "Icepaw, you will be apprenticed under Shrewflame."

"I get an apprentice!" Shrewflame shoved through the crowd, his whole body vibrating and his paws suspiciously stained with orange paint. Wildclaw hid a chuckle as Shrewflame touched his nose to Icepaw's.

"Pearpaw, you will be apprenticed under Whiteflower," Oilstar declared. Whiteflower left the crowd with far more grace than his older brother. He too had orange paint on his white paws.

"I'll do my best," Whiteflower purred as he touched noses with Pearpaw.

"Icepaw! Pearpaw! Icepaw! Pearpaw!" RippleClan cried. Puddlewhisper cheered from the bottom of her lungs.

"Let's tour the territory before the artisans realized we touched their paint supplies," Shrewflame whispered, nudging Icepaw along.

"We'll see you soon, Mom!" Pearpaw cheered as she and Whiteflower hurried after their brothers. They streaked ahead of the pair and managed to get out of camp first. Puddlewhisper waved goodbye as the Clan dissolved into relieved chuckles and grateful purrs. They were gaining two apprentices rather than losing two kits that day.

"Puddlewhisper!" As the Clan set about their duties for the day, Oilstar hopped off the Shiprock and joined Puddlewhisper and her littermates. "I need you to take Venturedapple and Wolfgaze to the border. SlugClan's expecting a patrol."

"Oilstar, Puddlewhisper shouldn't go," Waspdawn huffed, flicking his ear to catch the leader's attention. "She's Icepaw and Pearpaw's mother. SlugClan will be furious with her. Let me lead the patrol."

"Lettucestar wants this handled as much as we do," Oilstar sighed, shaking her head. "I want Puddlewhisper to face SlugClan so we all can have good relations again. They shouldn't see Puddlewhisper as a kit thief, and we shouldn't hide her like one."

"Not to doubt Puddlewhisper," Lavendertwist added, scratching an itch under his collar, "but maybe the three of us can at least come with? I don't really trust SlugClan to handle this well."

"They might behave better with a mediator around, too," Paleseed pointed out.

"If you're all so nervous about it," Oilstar said, "you can go with. Just don't make this seem like a war patrol, please? We've had enough injuries from the other Clans lately."

With a few quick stretches and a call to Venturedapple and Wolfgaze, Puddlewhisper's patrol was off for the border. As they left camp, Puddlewhisper spotted her kits and their mentors lingering along the southern coast. They splashed in the shallow salt water, laughing like kits. Puddlewhisper's heart warmed. Perhaps young mentors would make Icepaw and Pearpaw's lives feel a bit more normal. They deserved normalcy.

"They fell in a heap to claw the mud," Lavendertwist sang as the patrol pressed through the bright green forest, "that dyed their muzzles and pelts in rud, tunnelled until the ground bore blood, with all the blowflies swarming."

"Are you really singing 'Quiet Jaypaw' on a day like this?" Waspdawn sighed, unable to hide a hint of mild amusement despite how he shook his head.

"'Quiet Jaypaw'?" Venturedapple muttered from the back of the patrol.

"A creepy song about a roguehearted apprentice," Puddlewhisper hummed.

"Silverpaw used to love that song!" Wolfgaze laughed, jogging up to Lavendertwist's side.

"Ripplefern and I learned it from a SlugClan apprentice when we were young," Lavendertwist chuckled. "It feels like… the right song for the moment. You remember the main part, Wolfgaze?"

"Where, o where is quiet Jaypaw?" Wolfgaze sang, lacking the same skilled voice as Lavendertwist but sharing in the heart of the song. "Quiet Jaypaw can't be saved."

"Where, o where is quiet Jaypaw?" Lavendertwist joined Wolfgaze in the song. "Quiet Jaypaw, quiet grave." Lavendertwist and Wolfgaze laughed as they finished, earning an eyeroll from Venturedapple and a hidden purr from Waspdawn. Puddlewhisper hummed the melody under her breath, yet her gut twinged. Would she want the bearers of bad news approaching a meeting like this in song? Yet as Lavendertwist started the next verse, he glanced at Puddlewhisper, hesitating through the first line. Ah. So that was the reason.

"Poked at the grave 'til it bared its bones," Puddlewhisper hummed along with the two singers, "it bared its bones, it bared its bones, it bared its bones, poked at the grave 'til it bared its bones, the crows call out their warning."

"Finches and warblers, gray catbirds," Paleseed joined in, "With twisted beaks and eyes all blurred, feathers as red as a fox's fur—"

"Savage and painted and warring," Waspdawn muttered. Lavendertwist, Wolgaze, and Paleseed cheered at Waspdawn's voice. Puddlewhisper decided she would have to teach her kits that song. The chorus replaced Puddlewhisper's dread as the patrol (sans Venturedapple, who stared bug-eyed and confused) trekked through the brightening forest.

The patrol beat SlugClan to the border where RippleClan, WheatClan, and AshClan met, but only by a little. Puddlewhisper barely had time to find a sundappled rock to rest upon before shapes slipped through the trees. Lighttrail was at the front, with one of SlugClan's mediators at his side. But the molly everyone expected and dreaded to see plunged past them, blue eyes sparkling.

"Are they here?" Nimblestep gulped, skidding to a stop at the edge of RippleClan territory. She scanned the large patrol, but her ears dipped lower and lower as she saw no small bodies in the crowd.

"Icepaw and Pearpaw," Waspdawn sighed, clearing his throat, "have decided to stay in RippleClan." Nimblestep contnued to search the patrol, but her face fell further and further.

"I can't say I'm surprised," Lighttrail muttered.

"They are still looking forward to meeting you, Nimblestep," Paleseed quickly interjected, trying to catch Nimblestep's fluttering attention. "They can explain their perspectives at the Gathering."

"What do I tell Quickpaw?" Nimblestep gulped. Her wide eyes focused on Puddlewhisper, who sat calmly in the center of the RippleClan patrol. "What did you tell them about me?"

"They know you care," Puddlewhisper said, picking her words carefully. "You still hurt them, though." Puddlewhisper risked moving closer as Nimblestep's breathing tightened. "You left them for dead, and made them fear for their lives with that patrol. I'm sorry, but you'll have to live with that."

"None of this would have happened if RippleClan weren't a group of foxhearts!" Nimblestep hissed. "You caused this! You took my family from me!"

It was simple hopefulness that kept Puddlewhisper so close to Nimblestep as the brown molly's lips curled and her claws glinted in the dappled morning light. But it was the echo of her words that kept Puddlewhisper from running as Nimblestep pounced on her. Her fangs instantly sunk into Puddlewhisper's tail, as though trying to bite straight through.

"Nimblestep, stop!" Lighttrail barked as every cat, SlugClan and RippleClan, converged on the furious mother. As Puddlewhisper tried to save her tail, however, Nimblestep's furious shaking stopped. Her jaw froze around Puddlewhisper's tail, still digging into her skin, blood still blooming around her fangs, but no longer applying active pressure. She wasn't even breathing. As Puddlewhisper suspected, Wolfgaze stood behind her, green eyes burning with star-given power. Puddlewhisper's body went numb as she looked into Wolfgaze's eyes.

"So this is the Rule of Three in action," Lighttrail muttered, backing away from Nimblestep, eyes locked on Wolfgaze. Waspdawn and Lavendertwist pried Nimblestep's frozen mouth off Puddlewhisper's tail. Puddlewhisper scrambled back, her blood burning. Paleseed swooped around her sister and groomed her pulsing wound. Waspdawn and Lavendertwist shoved Nimblestep back over the border. Wolfgaze broke her supernatural connection. Nimblestep's wide jaw snapped shut on empty air. She startled, tumbling back into the SlugClan mediator.

"Go home, now," Waspdawn growled. "The apprentices made their decision. That's the end of it." Waspdawn joined Puddlewhisper as Paleseed helped her to her paws. Puddlewhisper cradled her numb tail to her side.

"You are witches," Nimblestep hissed as Lighttrail pushed her back toward SlugClan. "Achilles was right. RippleClan is full of witches! This is all your fault!" Another strong shove from Lighttrail silenced the grieving mother. The small SlugClan patrol stumbled back to their territory, prizeless.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Lavendertwist muttered, glaring at the retreating cats.

"Let's get Puddlewhisper to the clerics," Venturedapple said, quietly taking the lead back home.

"Don't tell my kits yet," Puddlewhisper hissed through gritted teeth. "Let them enjoy their first day out of camp."

"StarClan knows what sort of wicked thoughts Nimblestep would have taught those kits," Wolfgaze grumbled as the patrol followed Venturedapple. Puddlewhisper focused her energy on the pain in her tail, but her thoughts still spun. Cruel or not, just or not, Nimblestep was right.

RippleClan destroyed her family.

(Puddlewhisper: 62, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)

(Paleseed: 62, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

(Pearpaw: 6, female, historian apprentice, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories)

(Icepaw: 6, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Oilstar: 100, female, leader, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Shrewflame: 20, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)

(Whiteflower: 13, male, historian, faithful, great kitsitter)

(Waspdawn: 62, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Lavendertwist: 62, male, historian, playful, great singer, good storyteller)

(Venturedapple: 84, male, codekeeper, cold, eloquent speaker)

(Wolfgaze: 31, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)

Dovepaw gets to train as a warrior under Wolverineheart. Scaleripple takes all the new apprentices training and discovers he really likes teaching. He asks Thundergale and Shrewflame to help him be a teacher.

[Image ID: Scaleripple guides Pearpaw, Icepaw, and Dovepaw (now in a tall apprentice sprite) through a hunter's crouch. Under Dovepaw, it says LEVEL UP! DOVEKIT → DOVEPAW, IMPULSIVE → OBLIVIOUS. Scaleripple says, "Crouch like this…" Under him, it says LEVEL UP! FORMIDABLE FIGHTER → UNUSUALLY STRONG FIGHTER.]

(Pearpaw: 6, female, historian apprentice, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories)

(Icepaw: 6, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Dovepaw: 6, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, active imagination)