Cowbirdsoar lays in the healer's den, basking in the cool morning air. His- the kits lay against his side. He curls his tail over them.
Last moon, he tried to get them to sleep on their own. He and Madtomtuft cleaned and added moss to the apprentice’s den. But after spending the night in it, they refused to return. No bribery or insistence would change their minds.
Cowbirdsoar knew he could force the issue, but that would do them no good. So, instead he chose to accommodate them. He brought the moss from the apprentice den and added it to his own nest.
That made the comfortable nest the three of them lay in now. He yawns into the empty air and stretches. Rhubarbkit squeaks against him, while Plumekit just curls further in on herself.
He looks down at them, his golden eyes shining. They are mine... Stars it is wrong, but they are my family. He looks at the cave roof and imagines Starclan looking down at him. He imagines the face of his mentor, the one he had made his oath to. He can see her scowling at him. I promise I am still loyal, He says to the visage. I will never take a mate, never have kits. But let me have this selfishness.
The visage stares through him, it says nothing, but a lightness creeps into his heart. He rests his head against his kits.
“Are you up yet?” Madtomtuft calls from the entrance. He narrows his eyes at his niece, making a shushing motion with his tail. She covers her mouth and backs away.
Reluctantly, Cowbirdsoar uncurls himself from his daughters. He licks both of their heads and walks out to meet Madtomtuft.
“Did you need something?” he says quietly.
“I just wanted to offer to go herb hunting with you.” She smiles so earnestly; the rest of darkness drains to his paws.
He nudges his head against hers. “I’ll be ready soon.” He walks back into the cave.
Rhubarbkit is already bothering Brambleclash, while her quieter sister is still asleep, having taken over the whole nest. Brambleclash bats at Rhubarbkit and smiles at him. She mouths ‘I have this’ at him. He mouths his own thanks and slinks back out.
Madtomtuft and Cowbirdsoar climb the rocks and onto the field. They bring themselves to a feverfew patch; the majority of it is already dead. Do we even have enough? If what we have goes bad... she nudged him out of his thoughts.
She motions towards the patch. “How do I harvest the feverfew?”
He swallowed down his fears. “You want to nip them towards the base of the stalk- be careful, the smell can throw off some cats.” He knew she knew. But the words comforted him.
She followed his orders and picked the plants. He joins in, avoiding the dead roots.
His ears twitch, catching a sound on the wind. Pawsteps. He unsheathes his claws. The pawsteps get closer. Madtomtuft tenses next to him, her own claws at the ready.
The pawsteps grow louder until a cat comes into view. A normal, non-infected cat and one Cowbirdsoar recognizes.
He sprints to them without thinking. “Walnutpaw” He calls out. Walnutscreech’s eyes widen in surprise. They run up to greet him.
The last time he saw Walnutpaw, their ears just barely reached his chin. Now, Walnutpaw was just a paw shorter than him. Their short, sandy fur, was tight against their skin, letting Cowbirdsoar see the bones underneath.Their purple eyes, once full of warmth and ambition, had dulled and sunk into his head.
“It’s Walnutscreech now,” They correct.
That made sense. It had been 9 moons. “Oh.” He clears his throat. “Congratulations.” He peaks over their shoulders. It was dangerous for them to be alone, where was Daisypop? Or the other Ivyclan cats?
“It’s just me.” They follow his gaze.
The words hit Cowbirdsoar like a raging badger. Just me.
“Ivyclan is...?”
Walnutscreech shook their head. “No, we just moved further up the hill.”
“We moved to the shore ourselves.” He waves his tail towards where he came from.
“That’s nice...” They reply, staring at the feverfew patch.
Of course, they came for that. And we had already picked so much...
“I think there’s still some.” He offers them. “Though, it may be easier for one clan to share them, rather than two.” Ivyclan has always been proud, but maybe, maybe those left could join Grouseclan.
Walnutscreech paws at the dirt. “I can’t imagine our leader would be keen on that.” They meow, the weight of the words pressing them against the dirt.
“What about just you?”
They recoil. “I can’t. Ivyclan still needs me.” Cowbirdsoar deflates.
“Right, of course.” He paws the dirt. “I’ll get you that feverfew.” He walks back to Madtomtuft, taking some of the plants. He sets it on their paws and steps back. They take it and turn around.
“Thank you.” They mumble around the plants. Cowbirdsoar nods to them. He wants to pull them back, but he knows he cannot. A healer's duty is to their clan... they would only hate him if he tried to remove them from their duty.
Silently, Cowbirdsoar slinks home. Madtomtuft follows him, feverfew in her jaws.
They tell the clan about Walnutscreech and Ivyclan. Brambleclash seems uneasy, Nighthawkflicker is quiet, and the kits... well they spend the meeting playing.
Cowbirdsoar curls in on himself. He paws his leg. “We can decide whether to visit them or not later. But for now, we should all just sleep on it.”
“That’s as good an idea as any.” Brambleclash nuzzles against him. “Mind checking on my sprain before you turn in?”
“Of course.” He helps her to the healer’s den. The kits follow them, worn out from their play.
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Cowbirdsoar refused to leave the den after they got back. Brambleclash tried to soothe his nerves... but she wasn’t enough. Even though she had been the one to deliver the killing blow, he seemed to carry the death on his head.
So, she did what she could; she supported him. Every day, she would bring him prey and wet moss. She would groom his ruffled fur and help him entertain the kits. It was exhausting, but there was no other way. If she didn’t care for him... that wasn’t something she planned to think about. She was a good clanmate and that meant that she would help him.
And of course, help the kits. They still made her a little uneasy, especially Rhubarbkit. But they were kind of cute. They played mossball with each other and cuddled up to Cowbirdsoar every chance they got.
The worst part of it was trying to hide him. When the guy has his own den, it’s hard to keep cats from looking there.
But Brambleclash considered herself a clever cat. She took the two older girls to explore the territory. The changing season brought forth a plethora of colors. There were leaves falling, lizards sunning, and even some fish closer to camp. Hopefully, it would be enough to distract them.
Nighthawkflash immediately abandoned the other two to chase the lizards. It wasn’t out of malice, more a need to blow off steam. Cowbirdsoar’s withdrawal had affected everyone, whether they could admit it or not.
Brambleclash nudged Madtomtuft. “Why don’t we walk along the beach?”
The younger warrior scrunched her nose. “What if we run into any of the... the infected?” she asked quietly, as if her voice would summon them.
“I patrolled earlier, if we’re quiet, we should have no problems.” Brambleclash rested her tail on the other’s back.
Madtomtuft weighed her options. She dug her paws against the stone as she thought. “I guess we can then.”
The two walked down to the beach together. Despite Brambleclash’s confidence, they still stayed close to camp. Madtomtuft would even peroidically stop to make sure that Nighthawkflicker was still in view.
It’s good that they have one another, Brambleclash purred to herself. Despite the cold that the ocean carried, her pelt felt warm. She breathed in the fresh ocean air and shook her pelt. The sun on her spine felt amazing. She wanted to lie down right now, like a big lizard, but Madtomtuft didn’t seem in the lying mood.
Speaking of... up ahead, Madtomtuft had stopped in her pawsteps. Brambleclash hurried to meet her. “What’s going on?” She meowed curiously.
Without a word, Madtomtuft raised a paw and pointed at a bright orange, half-submerged object. It kind of looks like a cats back half. Brambleclash carefully approached it. Whatever it was, it was dead.
Madtomtuft followed her lead. She sniffed at the object, pushing it a little. Something clicked or snapped within it. Which sent her racing out of there like a bat out of hell. She kicked up a cloud as she ran. Brambleclash would have lost her if she had not fallen on her face halfway out.
That was a story she would definitely pass on to Cowbirdsoar and the kits.
First <- Previous <- Next
(Shoutout to @still-vtoh hope your brace removal happened/ went okay!)
The kits loved the story. Plumekit in particular, she kept asking Brambleclash what exactly the object looked like. It’s already been half a moon since they came to the clan, and they’ve grown so much.
Rhubarbkit is a lot louder, while Plumekit is a lot more curious. Both spend all day exploring where Cowbirdsoar allows them to. Which is basically just a few pawsteps from his nest. He’s doing his best, but they’re clearly suffocated.
So, Brambleclash made a plan. She brought him a particularly plump mouse- brown, no white fur, she double checked- and sat down in his nest.
“How are they?” She chose to ask about the kits first, it was safer that way. Cowbirdsoar wouldn’t get angry but he might get defensive about his own emotions.
“They’re...” Cowbirdsoar picked at the prey as he picked his words. “They’re energetic.” Which translated to they are a pawfull.
Brambleclash nodded. “Maybe they just need a game of mossball.”
He shuffled his paws. “I don’t know... that could get messy in here.” He stared at the mess of herbs the kits had already made.
“Well, what if we did it just outside of the cave?” She scooped up some moss. That got him to his paws.
He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I don’t know if they’re ready...”
She placed a paw on his shoulder and lowered her own voice to match. “If they’re not, they can come back in.” She nuzzled under his chin. “But I think it’d be good for all of you to get some air.”
The older tom looked between her and the kits before slumping. “Just for a quick game.”
Brambleclash smiled proudly. She scooped up more moss into a ball. “Kits!” She spoke with a chirp in her voice. “I have a new game for you!”
Both girls scrambled from where they had been.
Brambleclash showed off the moss ball and explained the rules to the girls. Then she kicked it out of the den. Rhubarbkit flew after it, but Plumekit hesitated. She looked back to Cowbirdsoar for reassurance. And to give the tom credit, as nervous as he was, he put on a smile and nodded for her.
Plumekit ran out after her sister. Brambleclash followed suit. Rhubarbkit grabbed the moss ball in her tiny, brown paws, and bit it. She quickly spit it out.
“That’s not prey.” Plumekit teased. Her white fur puffed up with delight.
“I know that.” Rhubarbkit swatted the ball to her sister. She kicked it back with a disgusted face.
“I don’t want your slobber ball!”
Rhubarbkit slapped it back. “It’s not a slobber ball!”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
“So is!”
Brambleclash interjected, “Why don’t I make you kits another ball?” Both girls stared at her, owl-eyed at the suggestion. Rhubarbkit clutched the ball close.
“No.” She hissed at the warrior. Brambleclash was taken aback but she did not argue.
The girls resumed their game of pass the slobberball.
Which led to part two of Brambleclash’s plan. She went to the healer. “Hey, Cowbirdsoar, since you’ve been in, are there any herbs you need more of?” She flicked her brown tail low, a perfect picture of casual.
“Well...” He scanned the den. “We could use more catmint... and dandelion roots... but those...” He frowned. His tail lashed behind him,unease growing in his pelt. “It’s a lot.”
Brambleclash hummed in agreement. “I guess it’d be too much to tell me where to look then.”
“I guess I’d have to-” He paused. His eyebrows knit themselves together like two converging tunnels. “Is this a ploy to get me out of my den?” He mewed incredulously.
“Depends. Is it working?” She pressed into him.
He turned away from her. “You’re lucky we’re so low.”
A win was a win. She placed her tail on his. He leaned into the touch for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then, he moved off.
She followed him to the main cave and watched him as he left. She then watched as hours later, he was carried in by Nighthawkflicker, bleeding heavily.
Finally. Brambleclash stretches as she exits the Healer’s Den. After a moon, my sprain is finally healed.
Even if the injury had been her fault, she didn’t appreciate the tight leash Cowbirdsoar put her on.
She couldn’t hunt, patrol, or even leave the cave for the first few days. After them, she still couldn’t hunt or patrol, but she could at least leave the cave. Even then, it was conditional.
She lashes her tail. That’s in the past now, I have to move on. Despite her self assurance, her tail keeps its fast pace.
She huffs. I just need to go out there and… well sink my teeth into some prey. That should fix me up.
She walks out of the cave, her paws pressing against the damp sand. Last night’s storm must have soaked everything, She thought, shaking her paw.
The sand clung on, much to her dismay. She hops on one of the rocks. Once I get on grass I can clean them off.
“Do you need any company?” Madtomtuft asks.
Brambleclash shifts herself to see the other molly. Sweet Sunday. Madtomtuft was absolutely drenched.
It seemed despite the drab weather, Madtomtuft had gone for a swim.
Brambleclash shook her head, smiling. Cowbirdsoar can tell her off later.
“Sure.” She waves Madtomtuft up.
The wet molly jumps up to meet her. Together they climb- and Madtomtuft only slips a few times.
“We should go there.” The younger molly points with her claw.
“Why?”
“That’s around where Cowbirdsoar and I saw Walnutscreech.”
“Oh.”
I still have no idea how to feel about them. No matter how much Cowbirdsoar tells me about Clanpride and the codes, it never makes any sense. Cats should be banding together. Not clinging to territory. She huffs through her nose. Its stupid.
Madtomtuft lowers her ears. “We don’t have to.” She uses a soft, almost placating tone. It hurts Brambleclash.
“No, no, its fine. I was just thinking.” She puts her tail on the other warrior. “ Let’s go that way.”
Madtomtuft nods a little. She allows Brambleclash to take the lead.
A bit further into the field, the two separate, hunting for mice.
Brambleclash decides to hunt near a log. A good choice, as she sees a mouse, scurrying off with a bit of fluff.
She springs on it. Grabbing it. Next to her the log groans. She drops the mouse.
She moves closer to the log, claws drawn.
The log- the cat laying on the dirt is alive. He appears to be a brown tom, with white spots. He’s incredibly thin, despite his large fur.
She presses her paw into him. His eyes shoot open.
Two familiar eyes. She can’t stop herself from yelling, “Longspur!”
Longspur lifts his head. He blinks away his drowsiness. “Bramble?”
She leans down, attempting to groom him. He pulls away. “I thought you were dead,” he whispers.
She swallows. Oh. When she left, there were a lot of things she considered. But none of them were the cats she’d left behind. The thought made her stomach curl.
“I’m alright, I found some other cats. Actually.” She turns back.
Madtomtuft was heading for her, mouse in her jaws.
She hurries to meet the younger molly. “Madtomtuft, I found another cat. He’s skinny but I think he’s uninfected!”
Madtomtuft looks stunned for a moment, but she quickly recovers. “Let’s get him to Cowbirdsoar.”
Together, the two of them help Longspur stand and walk him back to camp.
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