I probably won't write it but a Lyonel/hBeesbury fic called 'my honey bee, come get this pollen' like the line from espresso would be so fun and silly
seen from China
seen from China
seen from France

seen from United States

seen from Italy

seen from Maldives
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Brazil
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Yemen
I probably won't write it but a Lyonel/hBeesbury fic called 'my honey bee, come get this pollen' like the line from espresso would be so fun and silly

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
rekindling
a look into the lingering friendship between plumstar and honeystream. Warnings for mentions of miscarriages, character death, and graystar being a general asshole
(also note: ive been working on this since the beginning of april :â) ))
Theyâve always been there for each other, whether they realize that or not. Even after the arguments, after the resentment, after Graystar walked off with Sandkit dangling from his jaws, refusing to let Waspfoot carry her own son back to WindClan, after all the grief and bitterness they still care for each other. They were best friends for three long season cycles, and even if theyâre not friends anymore, that worry for each otherâs safety remains. Plumstar still feels an ache for Honeystream and Waspfoot whenever Graystar interferes and screws Honeystream over, but that ache only occurs to Honeystream for the first time one afternoon, after a hunting session with her kittens, back when Plumstar first got pregnant.
She doesnât notice when she enters camp at first; she steps into the campâs clearing, nudging Lightningpaw and Beepaw forward, ordering the two to go drop their kills off at the fresh-kill pile. Honeystream follows her kittens, dropping her own catch to the fresh-kill pile, and she only takes in her surroundings when she feels her daughter nudge her flank.
âMa, somethingâs going on,â Beepaw mumbles, and Honeystream lifts her eyes up, glancing around the camp, âWhatâs everyone whispering about?â
Thereâs no crowd, perse, but everyone is out - theyâve clustered together in their own little circles, scattered amongst the camp, with their heads bent low so they could whisper and murmur amongst themselves.
But thereâs one thing that the entire camp is doing: theyâre all facing the seerâs den. Dread knots in her stomach as she follows the countless stares towards the den, her own gaze landing on the hunched over form of Antfoot, her amber eyes wide and round with fear.
Honeystream lurches forward, rushing to Antfootâs side, because she knows. She knows somethingâs happened to Plumstar, even before Antfoot can weakly choke out her mateâs name as Honeystream approaches.
***
Plumstar returns to her duties as soon as Hazelnose releases her from their den. She hasnât lost any of her own lives, no, but the lives Plumstar had been developing within her stomach stopped growing. This time, no one in the Clan gossips; they keep out of their leaderâs business, because they all know not to expect any arrivals in the camp anytime soon.
Honeystream leaves a marigold at Plumstarâs den one day, to show that she feels for her former friend, even if they donât talk to each other like they used to anymore. Honeystream isnât sure what Plumstar does with it, but Antfoot comes to admire the little flower that Plumstarâs woven into her nest.
***
A few days later, the Gathering is commencing; Honeystream weaves through the crowds of mingling cats, Lightningpaw and Beepaw at her heels, as she trots swiftly to meet Waspfoot. The couple meets affectionately in the middle, touching their noses in a sweet little kitty-kiss, a pleasant purr rolling from both the molliesâ throats. Waspfoot lowers her head to rub her cheek lovingly against her kitsâ cheeks, asking how theyâve been holding up in RiverClan and how theyâre trainingâs going.
âBeepawâs got a secret admirer,â Lightningpaw teases, and Honeystream lets out a chuff of laughter - Lightningpaw was their quiet kit, who only seemed to pipe up if it involved tormenting their sister. Beepawâs ears flick back and she huffs, pelt burning, âShut up! Youâre just mad because Iâm getting pretty shells at my nest.â
âA secret admirer, huh?â Waspfoot mews, whiskers twitching, âAny idea who it is?â
Beepaw shakes her head, obviously flustered by the topic, but the family doesnât press further on it when Honeystream changes the topic, âWhereâs Sandpaw?â
Waspfoot practically droops at the mention of her son, and her gaze flicks across the gathering; Honeystream follows her mateâs glance and spots her son, crouched in a clump of WindClan apprentices. Morningpaw is settled next to him, but she looks antsy, and every time she stands up to go interact with other Clan cats, Sandpaw shakes his head rapidly as a no and the tortoiseshell molly sits back down, dejected.
âHe didnât want to come say hello,â Waspfoot explains, her voice almost exhausted, âHe didnât say why. He just said no and walked off.â
Before Honeystream can even respond, the groupâs attention is snatched back when they overhear Graystar meow, purposefully loudly, âYouâre not carrying kitten-weight the way Iâd expect, Plumstar.â
Honeystream stiffens, her tail tip flicking, and Lightningpaw and Beepaw shrink back; Waspfoot presses her pelt to Honeystreamâs golden tabby one, her head quirked to the side as she murmurs, âHoneystream? Whatâs wrong?â Honeystream doesnât find her words immediately, choosing instead to brace herself for Plumstarâs response.
âWith all do respect, Graystar,â Plumstar responds in stride, her voice level but stern, âThatâs none of your concern.â
âIâm merely curious,â Graystar retorts, his tone a little sharper than earlier, âThereâs no need to get defensive.â
Plumstar simply blows out a puff of air in annoyance, her gaze falling forwards; she remains stoic, even when Graystar adds on, âDid you lose your pregnancy?â
âThis is an inappropriate time to discuss that matter. Drop it.â Plumstarâs voice is short and terse, her eyes narrowing as she fights back her frustration with Graystarâs pushing of the subject.
âSo you did lose it.â
âI said drop the subject.â The red fur along Plumstarâs back begins to bristle with irritation.
Graystar snorts, tipping his muzzle to the air and dragging his gaze away from Plumstar, âThatâs a shame, really.â His tone holds no sympathy, and Honeystream doesnât realize her hackles are starting to raise. Robinstreamâs tail starts to lash from where she sits with the other deputies, and Antfoot has also gotten to her paws, her tail tip flicking and the ginger fur along her shoulders lifting.
âI never really expected you to produce an heir as great as my daughter is turning out,â Graystar continues on, and Morningpaw lowers her head as her father mentions her, embarrassment shining in her eyes, âBut looks like you wonât be able to turn out an heir at all, hm? Itâs a damn shame, though I canât say Iâm surprised you failed at this too.â
Plumstar turns on Graystar, her fur bristling, and both Robinstream and Antfoot open their mouths to snap something at the tom for overstepping his boundaries, but surprisingly enough itâs none of those three who manage to get the first - or loudest - words out.
âOh fuck off, Graystar!â Honeystream blurts out from where she stands within the crowd, earning a few hushed gasps from those surrounding her, as well as her kits; Waspfoot simply perks her ears up, and she canât help but smile slightly as her mate begins to tell the gray tabby tom off.
âExcuse me?â Graystar hisses, his yellow eyes narrowing into slits as he glares down at the disruption; Honeystream puffs out her pelt, her own expression matching Graystarâs as she snaps back, âYou heard me. This is none of your business, so quit shoving your nose into someone elseâs life when you can focus on your own,â Honeystream pauses, tilting her head to the side as she adds on, âOr are you so bad at dealing with your own problems that you turn to making fun of someone elseâs to feel better?â
Before the argument can devolve further, Poplarstar, the ShadowClan leader, intervenes, obviously uncomfortable, âDo you think we could just, put this aside for now? And carry on with the Gathering? No reason to bicker like apprentices under the truce.â
Graystar flicks an ear irritably, but Plumstar speaks up before he can deny, âYes, let us commence the Gathering. In fact, I hope you donât mind me giving my report first.â
Poplarstar dips their head respectfully towards Plumstar, granting her permission to go on ahead. So she does.
***
The sun shines golden rays upon the border between WindClan and RiverClan, a cherished invitation to Honeystream as she strolls through the territory, Lightningpaw and Beepaw padding along beside her. Honeystreamâs pace picked up once she spotted the figure on the border, outlined in a yellow halo by the sunâs rays; for the last few fox-lengths her trot turned into a sprint as she bounded towards Waspfoot, only to meet with a loud, rumbling purr. Lightningpaw and Beepaw came barreling down the slope after her, bouncing around Waspfoot with excited, eager chirps as she broke away from Honeystream to touch noses to her bundling kits.
Light green eyes scan the cluster of cats rapidly for a few moments, before glinting with a hint of confusion. Honeystream shuffles on her paws, lowering her voice as she catches Waspfootâs attention, âWaspfoot? Whereâs Sandpaw?â
Waspfootâs ears droop, her tail tip twitching before she sighs weakly, âGraystar insisted on taking him out on a training session. He wouldnât let me take Sandpaw today.â
âThatâs not fair!â Beepaw huffs with a stamp of her paw, while Lightningpaw simply narrows their eyes, clearly irked by Graystarâs choice. Beepaw turns to Waspfoot, her paws kneading the ground as she scoffs, âGraystar himself agreed on these meetings and what day theyâll be on! He canât just,â She pauses in her rant, still fuming as she thinks for her words, âJust change it willy nilly because he feels like it!â
âHeâs probably pissed because Ma yelled at him in front of everyone,â Lightningpaw adds on mellowly, earning a swift âHush! Language!â from Waspfoot. Honeystreamâs fur ruffles along her haunches as she snorts, âBut sheâs right. That tom is always coming after us for the smallest things.â
âHeâs sensitive,â Waspfoot offers as a pitiful explanation, âHe gets real embarrassed real easy because he thinks no one believes he deserves his position -,â
âHeâs right!â Beepaw interrupts with an agitated sneer, and Waspfoot waves her tail to dismiss her daughterâs comment, âShush! You may think that, but half of WindClan thinks the opposite and theyâll flay each of us if we hear us talking about their precious shithead badly.â
Beepaw and Lightningpaw gasp at Waspfootâs curse, and the WindClan molly screws up her nose and squeezes her eyes shut, grimacing at letting her own language slip up in front of her impressionable children. Honeystream lets out an airy little chuckle, her teeth peeking out in her sheepish grin, before Waspfoot simply bumps her head against Honeystreamâs shoulder, âIâll drag him to our next meeting no matter what.â
Honeystream grins again, bending forward to rasp her tongue across Waspfootâs muzzle, âThanks, sweets.â
Lightningpaw and Beepaw let out a noise of disgust in perfect unison at the sappiness going on between their mothers, but they scatter when Honeystream shoots them a narrowed look, their own giddy laughs bubbling through the air. Honeystream settles into a more comfortable position, tucking her paws under the warmth of the thick, soft fur of her belly, and Waspfoot circles her mate before flopping down against Honeystreamâs side, seeking comfort in her mateâs fluffy pelt as she watches her kittens demonstrate the newest battle moves they learned during training the other day.
Their oasis of happiness is brief and fleeting, unfortunately; Lightningpaw pins down Beepaw, but their smug expression drops when they catch sight of whatâs on the horizon, and they scrabble off of their littermate. Beepaw scrambles to her paw, her golden tabby fur fluffed out as she catches sight too, and when Waspfoot follows their gaze, she hops to her own paws. Honeystream simply sighs, heaving herself to her own paws, not out of respect but simply to follow in her mateâs action.
âIâm glad Iâm not interrupting anything,â Graystar comments as he lumbers forward, and Honeystream mumbles under her breath, âYou are.â
Waspfootâs fur prickles along her spine and she lowers her head to whisper into Honeystreamâs ear, âYou should send the kits home.â
If Waspfoot senses something off, Honeystream trusts her gut, and does just so; turning to her kits, but holding her ground, Honeystream instruct, âYou two, start heading back to camp.â
âBut - !â Beepaw begins to protest, only to be nipped swiftly on the ear by Lightningpaw, who then tugs again on their sisterâs ear; Beepaw huffs and swats at her sibling, grumbling an acceptance of the order and begins to trudge after Lightningpaw as the pale tabby slips away from the scene.
âSending the kittens away, huh? Good choice.â
Waspfoot lowers her head, obviously wary of the way Graystar growls that sentence; the gray ticked tabby before them gestures to the direction of camp with a nod of his head, âWaspfoot, head back now.â
âIf you have something you want to say to Honeystream, you can say it with me here, too,â Waspfoot asserts, only to be rounded on by Graystar who snarls at her, âI said go to camp, now.â
Waspfoot flinches, almost as if sheâs worried Graystar will lash out and hit her, and Honeystream simply reassured, âItâs alright, I can handle him. Iâll see you later.â
Waspfoot simply touched her nose to Honeystreamâs, before padding off towards the direction of camp, her lithe tail trailing behind her.
Once the WindClan molly was out of earshot, Graystar advanced on Honeystream, the fur along his shoulders bristling as he ordered, gruffly and growling, âSandpaw will not be attending any of these little get-togethers.â
âExcuse me?â
âYou heard me.â
Honeystreamâs ears flattened, her hackles raised as she spat, âDonât you dare throw that in my face when you were the one causing trouble. You canât stop me from seeing my son just because youâre mad I called you out for being a prick to Plumstar.â
âI am Sandpawâs leader and I can do whatever I want,â Graystar barked, his tail whipping back and forth as he loomed over Honeystream; RiverClan molly squared up against the tom, flexing her claws from her wide paws. Realistically, Honeystream would absolutely crush Graystar in a battle, but Graystar held her family above her head like a threatening spider dangling from a web.
âYou better check your tone, fish-breath,â Graystarâs insult is initially interrupted by Honeystreamâs hiss, but Graystar simply carries on, âMy WindClan warriors are loyal to me and me alone. If I so much as give them the order, your life will be a never ending nightmare - and I donât think youâd want to drag your precious kits into the crossfire, huh?â
Honeystreamâs lip remains curled, flashing her fangs at Graystar, but she makes no move to attack him as he reiterates, âDo I make myself clear, Honeystream?â
Through gritted teeth and scathing tongue, Honeystream hisses back, âYes, sir.â
***
Plumstar doesnât hear about what happened between Honeystream and Graystar directly; she overhears the molly as she storms into camp, her eyes glimmering as she holds back her frustrated tears, the rage rolling from her in heated waves. Robinstream and Antfoot rush to her on swift paws, their ears pricked up as they circle the molly to get the details. Even Eaglepelt finds himself at Honeystreamâs side, his eyes wide and shocked as Honeystream starts her rant. Cats begin to gather around her as she explains what happened, and Plumstar, sitting at the edge of the leaderâs den, watches on with slitted eyes.
As she gets up and slinks towards the entrance of the camp, she snags the attention of Tatteredjaw, who twists around to call out to the red tabby, âWhere are you off to?â
âErrands,â Plumstar grunts in response, disappearing from the view of camp.
***
âWhat made you think this was a smart idea at all?â Hazelnose scoffs in annoyance as they buzz around Plumstar, pressing poultice to her stinging cuts and wrapping her particularly nasty wounds in cobwebs, âHonestly, Plumstar, youâre a leader, you should be setting an example, not going out and picking fights with Graystar at the border.â
âI didnât pick a fight!â Plumstar huffs indignantly, âI went with the intention of exchanging words with him.â
âBut you exchanged blows instead?â Hazelnose interjects, earning a frustrated hiss from their leader as they squeeze poultice into one of Plumstarâs unattended lashes. Before Plumstar can even respond, the duo are interrupted by the honeyed purr of Antfoot as she slides into the seerâs den, crooning, âHowâs my brave olâ warrior holding up, sweetheart?â
Hazelnose can practically feel Plumstarâs pelt warm up at the melodious voice of her mate, but they shoo Antfoot off from rubbing her cheek to Plumstarâs with an order, âDonât touch her yet, sheâs took a nasty hit on her cheek and I donât want you reopening it because you couldnât stand the idea of not clinging to Plumstarâs side for three heartbeats.â
Antfoot pouts, flicking her tail behind her as she mockingly whines, âBut what if I canât?â
âYouâll manage,â Hazelnose snorts, still annoyed by their leaderâs reckless behavior.
Antfoot exchanges an amused glance with Plumstar, flashing her a sweetened grin, before her expression sobers up as she ventures on, âWhat are you gonna tell RiverClan about your injuries?â
âCertainly not that you got into a fight with the WindClan leader!â Hazelnose objects immediately, and Plumstar fluffs up once more, countering, âWhy not?â
âDo you think itâs a good idea to tell your very defensive clan that you went out and picked a fight with the WindClan leader? You donât think theyâll demand to go and give WindClan a piece of their own minds?â
Plumstar snorts at Hazelnoseâs comment, but simply grumbles, âIâll just tell them I fell into a bramble patch or something.â
***
Moons pass. Plumstar and Antfoot try again for kits, but this time, they remain quiet about it - best not to get everyoneâs hopes up too fast, Plumstar says.
And it comes in handy; Hazelnose never had figured out why Plumstar lost the first pregnancy, and they never figure out why she lost her second pregnancy so early on either. The third pregnancy is a surprise that doesnât last, and Plumstar knows better than to get her hopes up when she gets the news. It never lasts beyond the beginning of the second month, at most.
Each time, the three keep quiet; the rest of the Clan remains in the dark about whatâs going on. The only cat who ever hears about each loss is Honeystream, who sits next to Antfoot on the bank of the river and listens to the nimble molly deliver heavy news each time. And each time, Plumstar finds a marigold at the entrance of her den.
Plumstar finds out sheâs pregnant again a moon after Beestormâs own kit is born.
***
âSheâs such a cute little thing,â Briarflower coos from where she remains in her nest, belly too swollen to leave her nest for too long. Beestorm chuckles lightly, flashing the new RiverClan addition a light-hearted grin, âYouâre gonna be havinâ your own wriggly little cute things by the end of this moon, at least, I bet.â
Briarflower lets out a light laugh, shuffling around to rasp her tongue over her swollen belly; Waxwhisker curls her tail around Beestormâs tail, a low purr rumbling from her throat as she watches Hornetkit from over Beestormâs shoulder. Honeystream sits in the empty nest next to her daughter, admiring the small figure of her granddaughter, her light green eyes shining with affection.
âYou know, itâs been nearly been a moon since Hornetkit was born,â Waxwhisker suddenly meows, breaking the comfortable silence, âWaspfoot visited you like, a few days after she had been born. Why hasnât your brother come by?â
Beestorm shrugs, twitching her tail, âDonât know. He doesnât like me very much.â
âHe doesnât like anyone very much,â Lightningface observes distantly, speaking up for the first time during that conversation. Honeystreamâs ears twitch backwards, but she remains silent, her expression grim.
***
The border buzzes with excitement as Honeystream finds herself leading an extra addition to the border: Waxwhisker. The RiverClan molly walks stride by stride with Beestorm, their pelts brushing as they eagerly chatter about the arrival of Sandwhiskerâs kits. Honeystream has a particular skip in her step, her tail wavering behind her as she pads along, Lightningface silently keeping pace with her. She shoots them a side glance, chirping in a silvery tone lightened by the excitement to be able to greet yet another litter of grandkits, âExcited to meet Sandwhiskerâs kits?â
âIâm very excited to see Morningclawâs kits,â Lightningface answers nonchalantly, aware of what they just did. Honeystream simply rolls her light apple-green eyes and bumps her shoulder against Lightningfaceâs, chiding in an amused tone, âBe nice.â
When a figure finally shows up in the distance, the group doesnât react with please; Honeystreamâs fur begins to lift across her back, and Beestormâs lip curls into a scowl as she hisses, âWhy is he here?â
Lightningface seems tense, as if theyâre expecting an attack, and Waxwhisker simply braces herself next to Beestorm, ready to jump before her mate at any given moment.
Graystarâs figure draws closer, and he waves his tail arrogantly as he snorts, âAlways so angry to see me, huh, Honeystream?â
âYou should damn know well why Iâm always so angry to see you,â Honeystream spits back, whipping her tail back and forth. Her narrowed eyes donât betray the small sense of anxiety she feels in the bottom of her stomach as she watches Graystarâs patrol come to a stop beside him - enough cats to hurt her family.
âWhatâs with the patrol?â Lightningface addresses Honeystreamâs concern, their own eyes narrowed into slits as they glance amongst the group of cats following the WindClan leader. Graystar tips his chin up as he comments, unusually calm, âWith how aggressive you RiverClan cats are, I figured Iâd need the protection in case one of you tried something.â
âRiverClan cats donât just randomly jump claws unsheathed at the sight of any other Clan cat,â Waxwhisper points out with a twitch of her tail tip, âWe have to be provoked.â
âFigured the news I was about to deliver would be provoking enough,â Graystar retorts, eliciting another hiss from Honeystream, âNews?â
âYou are not welcome in WindClan camp.â
Honeystreamâs thick golden tabby fur fluffs out, irate and shocked, as she snaps, âExcuse me? My grandkits were just born, I should be damn well allowed to see them!â
âSandwhisker does not want you meeting the kits,â Graystar informs all to professional, âThis was his will. So you can turn tail and head home.â
Honeystream bunches her muscles, ready to leap and bowl Graystar over, but as she begins to push herself forward with a yowl, she spots Graystarâs WindClan warriors instinctively stepping in front of their leader, and Honeystream herself feels teeth in her scruff as sheâs hauled backwards by Lightningface and Waxwhisker.
âThis isnât what the pact was about! You granted visitation permission!â Honeystream yowls, her tail lashing from where she stands, and Graystar scoffs, âI granted you permission to visit your mate and son; I said nothing of grandkits. And if your son doesnât want to see you, then who are you visiting the camp for?â
With that, he nods to his warriors, who begin to advance on the RiverClan family, pushing them away from the border; Honeystream goes home with her kits, her pelt hot with rage.
***
âWell, that was a short visit,â Robinstream remarks as she watches the RiverClan family storm into camp, âAnd a crabby one, I can see. What happened?â
âGraystar met us at the border with a patrol of his own,â Waxwhisker informs the tortoiseshell deputy, the others to outraged to respond, âHe said Sandwhisker didnât want us to meet the kittens and that Honeystream wasnât welcome there anymore.â
âWhat? He canât do that!â Lampreypaw pipes up from the apprenticeâs den, and Elmpaw twitches his ear next to her, commenting, âWhy not? Heâs their leader.â
âItâs not right!â The brown tabby apprentices turns on her companion, her pelt puffed out, and Elmpaw blinks in surprise, taking a shuffling step back, âNo I didnât - I didnât mean that it was right! I just meant heâs physically capable of doing that.â
Lampreypaw huffs, but the pair of apprentices is shooed away by Antfoot as she sends them back to their mentors, before turning to Robinstream and the RiverClan family, her ears twitching, âHe really shouldnât be able to do that, no matter his rank. This goes against our deal.â
âHe said it doesnât because apparently he and Plumstar never discussed grandkits,â Lightningface comments, glancing towards the camp entrance, âPlus, Sandwhisker himself told him to tell us to screw off, according to Graystar.â
âHe could be lying,â Antfoot offers, only for Beestorm to snort indignantly from where she stands besides her mother, âAs if. He hates us almost as much as Graystar does.â
âEnough to forbid his own mother from seeing his children?â Robinstream scoffs, and Lightningface simply shrugs their cream tabby shoulders, âApparently.â
They donât seem as irate as their mother or their sister, but they were never a big fan of Sandwhisker, plus Lightningface had always been a rather stoic cat.
âWhatâs going on?â Plumstarâs voice cuts from the seerâs den as she hauls herself from the cave, her ears twitching as she observes the angry throng of cats collecting with in her camp. Hazelnose follows her closely, keeping an eye on her to ensure she doesnât grow too worked up.
Antfoot strides over to her mateâs side as Robinstream calls out to her leader, âThere was an incident at the border. Graystar wonât let Honeystream see Sandwhiskerâs kits because apparently he said he doesnât want her to meet them.â
âHe did what?â Plumstar hisses, wheeling around to face Honeystreamâs family, her red tabby fur standing on end at the comment, âDid he really do that?â
Honeystream simply nods, her mouth tightly shut to hold back any frustrated screaming she might accidentally let out. Plumstarâs claws dig into the soft, firm earth of RiverClan camp as she growls below her throat, âI oughta give him a damn piece of my mind.â
Antfootâs tail shoots upright as Plumstar begins to stalk towards the entrance of camp, but Hazelnose intervenes swiftly, stepping in front of the angered feline and blocking her path, âYou will do no such thing!â
âAnd why not?â Plumstar scoffs, lashing her tail behind her, but before she can add on, Hazelnose swiftly interrupts, âBecause I know you, Plumstar, and I know youâll just meet him at the border and get into a damn scuffle just like you did last time.â
Their eyes glance towards Plumstarâs stomach, barely showing the signs of pregnancy, âI canât have you going out and picking a fight in your condition, Plumstar.â
Plumstar huffs, falling silent until Honeystream steps forward, speaking up for the first time since she got back from the border, echoing Hazelnoseâs comment, âLast time?â
âYour sheep-wool of a brain leader thought itâd be a good idea to go out and box Graystarâs ears when she heard he told you that Sandwhisker wouldnât be attending those meetings of yours anymore.â Hazelnose sniffs, casting an annoyed glance towards Plumstar, who simply flattens her ears and looks off into another direction; Honeystream pads forward, her voice softening as she mews, âYou really did that?â
Plumstar leans against Antfoot as she grunts, âCourse I did. I canât have him treating my clanmates like that.â
Honeystream offers Plumstar a small smile, and perhaps their old friendship still lingers, deep down.
***
Moons pass, Plumstarâs kitten arrives without mishap - a healthy young tom kitten, whom Plumstar and Antfoot dub Burnetkit. The Clan celebrates the birth of the young kitten, and Plumstar celebrates silently with Antfoot for the survival of Burnetkit after their previous struggles before.
Honeystream celebrates silently too, sprawled out in camp, watching with joy as Plumstar and Antfoot spoil their darling son.
***
Time never ceases to stop; Honeystream finds herself at WindClanâs border one last time, struggling to bite back the sobs as she stands face to face with Morningclaw and Sandwhisker. Behind her, Beestorm leans on Waxwhisper, her eyes teary as she curls her tail around Hornetpaw, who watches on with confused, wide eyes, Lightningface on her other side. Plumstar and Antfoot hang at the back of the group, unable to do anything or fix any of the events unfolding.
âI donât even know how you found out about Waspfoot,â Sandwhisker grunts, his voice unusually cold for the situation unfolding. Morningclaw turns to her betrothed, murmuring, âI told them. They have a right to grieve.â
âYou have to let me come to the camp, Sandwhisker,â Honeystream chokes out, her voice hoarse with grief. Sandwhisker narrows his eyes, a low growl rolling from his throat, âI will not let RiverClan warriors into the heart of my Clanâs territory.â
âRiverClan warriors - weâre your family, Sandwhisker! Iâm your mother!â Honeystream pleads, taking a step forward, only to recoil when Sandwhisker lashes out at her, claws unsheathed. The group takes a step back in surprise, and even Morningclaw hisses with distaste at Sandwhiskerâs reaction to his broken-hearted mother.
âAs far as I care, Waspfoot was my mother, and sheâs dead,â Sandwhisker snaps, teeth bearing at Honeystream as he snarls, âI have no connection to RiverClan. You all mean nothing to me.â
âHow dare you!â Beestorm exclaims, her claws unsheathing as she strides towards the border, âIs this all youâve become? One of Graystarâs brainless lackeys?â
âYou will keep my leaderâs name out of your mouth, fish-breath!â Sandwhisker turns on his sister, practically howling at her, and Honeystream thinks of how many times Graystar called her fish-breath.
âI will not!â Beestorm stomps her paw defiantly, âDonât act like heâs too honorable of a cat to have his name come from us! If anything, heâs as important as a pile of rat-dung.â
Sandwhisker yowls in anger, launching himself towards Beestorm with all the intent to tackle her and batter her, but he never meets his goal; his yowl turns into a startled shriek as he feels teeth sinking into the scruff of his neck, almost piercing the skin, and heâs hauled backwards with all the might Honeystream can muster. She sends him tumbling across the WindClan grass, startled and dazed; he stares up at her with widened eyes, as if shocked she had turned on him so fast.
âIf you insist on only being a WindClan warrior, if you insist you are not part of this family, then I will treat you as such!â Honeystream hisses, advancing on her son, who simply mews to her in a frightened voice, âWhat are you doing?â
âWhat any rational RiverClan warrior would do if they saw some foreign WindClan warrior attack their own kit,â Honeystream answers boldly, rearing up on her hind paws as she brings her forepaws down; Sandwhisker scrambles away, narrowly missing Honeystreamâs paws as she slams onto the dirt, and the cream tabby tom heaves himself to his paws and pelts away, calling over his shoulder, âLetâs go, Morningclaw!â
Morningclaw hesitates, watching as her betrothed takes off, and once heâs out of earshot she turns to the RiverClan warriors with grief clouding her gaze, almost putting out the blazing anger within them.
âIâm - Iâm so sorry, I didnât think heâd do that, I never meant for that to happen. If you want to, you can stay at the border to grieve. Iâll tell my father that I saw you all head off to RiverClan camp, he wonât question me.â
She shifts on her paws, before adding on, âAnd I can sneak you onto our territory some night, Honeystream, after sheâs buried. Iâll take you to her grave.â
Honeystream simply mumbles a quiet âthank youâ of appreciation, and Morningclaw bounds away, following Sandwhisker with her ears flattened against the back of her head. At least Honeystream had some sympathy residing within WindClan.
She crumbles to a heap, sobs wracking her body, and her family crowds together; Plumstar pads forward, settling on Honeystreamâs side and curling around her old friend, rasping her tongue across Honeystreamâs head. Antfoot joins her, curling her tail around Honeystreamâs haunches and resting her chin on the larger mollyâs shoulders. They grieve together.
If one good thing came from Waspfootâs death, it was the rekindling of Plumstar and Honeystreamâs friendship.
And when the time comes, when a few years later, Plumstar and Antfoot come back to camp carrying Burnetpeltâs limp body, tears in their eyes, Honeystream curls up and grieves with them.
And she curls up next to Plumstarâs body for the final time one cold morning, listening to Antfootâs horrible sobs die down into broken whimpers; when itâs time to bury Plumstarâs body by the sunset, when it begins to snow and Honeystream must retreat into the elderâs den, dragging Antfoot along with her to ensure she doesnât freeze to death, Honeystream curls around her best friendâs mate and promises quietly to keep her warm in Plumstarâs place until Plumstar herself can press against Antfootâs side once more.
figured id post this rundown of honeystream/plumstars relationship as i dont see it having spoilers for the story itself + it might not be dived into so deeply during the comic!
BEESTORM - PebbleClan Warrior
Player: @bluescatcorner
Name: Beestorm
Gender: Female; can bear kits
Age: 17 moons
Clan: PebbleClan
Sexuality: Undecided
Description:Â Â
Sheâs a stocky, long-haired golden mackerel tabby with white paws, belly, chest, and chin. Thereâs a tiny scar on her nose and a little tear in her left eartip from an accidental fall into a thornbush but theyâre not very noticable. Her eyes are hazel. Sheâs not mute, but she doesnât actually speak much.
Personality:Â Â
Beepaw is loud, confident, upbeat, and almost perpetually cheerful. She often has exaggerated motions to help fill the gaps in her difficult speech. She prefers to go her own way and is very hard working and concerned about the well-being of others and the clan, but is often hasty and eccentric in her decisions particularly when it comes to âimprovementsâ for camp. She has no concern about getting messy and is very rough and tumble. She can be rude, boisterous, and too quick to leap at times, but genuinely means well. Sheâs curious and loves exploration and is becoming more focused and determined on her goals. Her agreeable nature makes her game for almost anything. Sheâs very energetic and enthusiastic about her training.
beestorm and his siblings if they survived and grew up in SC with him, their original names are in parenthesis above their warrior names also i cant come up with a prefix for the first one

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
"Who knows a bird?" "Me! Chickadee!" "What's a chickadee say?" "Chchchchchch" "Chickadee, chickadee, Fly through my window, Chickadee, chickadee, Fly through my window, Chickadee, chickadee, Fly through my window, And find molasses candy."
AS THE SUNSET OF THE 2ND MOON OF LEAFBARE! LITERALLY THE LAST TWO APPRENTICES WERE TURNED TO WARRIORS! welcome the new warriors Beestorm and Palmear!!
a gorgesr, a beautiful , Amaxing warriors ceremone






