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When Moonpool opens her eyes, she’s momentarily blinded by how bright everything is.
Shielding her eyes with a paw, she squints at her surroundings, then gasps. The rudimentary, half scraped together den of moss she fell asleep in underneath the wide, low branch of a tree on the mountainside is gone. Instead, there are stars everywhere.
They’re close enough that she could reach out and bat them around with her paws. Quite suddenly, she’s overcome with a kit-like desire to do just that. Pounce on a nearby star, wrestle it to the ground, and toss it with her back feet. A rush of giddiness sweeps through her as she looks around, stars as far as the eye can see and misty, snow-white clouds that swirl around her paws.
Against the raven-black backdrop of the sky, a collection of stars just beyond her reach takes shape, coalescing into the form of a young kitten. Moonpool gapes, staring in shock as the cat fully comes to be, bounding towards her with bouncing steps and a pelt sprinkled with starlight.
“...Condorkit?”
“Hi, Moonpaw!” The starry kit grins, her pelt as dark as the sky. Even with starlight streaking her fur and her eyes aglow with moonlight, there’s no mistaking it. This is Condorkit! “Or, Moonpool now, right? I’ve missed playing moss ball with you. You were the best moss ball player.”
“I… I haven’t seen you since before the camp caved in.” Moonpool’s voice cracks, a sudden swell of grief slashing through her chest as she looks down upon Condorkit’s shining, smiling face. If this is another one of Moonpool’s nightmares, it’s almost worse than the ones where she fails to warn her Clan again, and again, and again.
“Let’s stay focused, Condorkit,” A deeper voice mews, cutting through Moonpool’s maudlin thoughts, another constellation of stars taking shape.
“Dad!” Moonpool cries, rushing forward to bonk her head with his, relieved to find it solid against her own.
Cliffstripe mrrps with laughter, the sound of it rumbling through his throat as he nuzzles against his daughter’s head. “I’ve missed you, darling. It’s so lovely to see you again.”
“What’s going on?” Moonpool pulls back, looking between the two starry cats with confusion. “Why can I see you? Am I dreaming?”
“It’s your leader ceremony!” Condorkit chirps. “We’re here to give you your nine lives!”
“My–?”
More and more cats begin to take shape behind the two already present, Clan members Moonpool knew in life and some she doesn’t recognize. Seeming to melt straight out of the sky, Pitchstar steps forward to the front, his presence commanding in the lithe stretch of muscle under his panther-like pelt. Hovering just in front of his forehead is a star so bright, Moonpool feels almost as though she may have to shield her eyes again.
“Indeed it is,” Pitchstar mews smoothly, a pleased smile gracing a muzzle gray with age. He stands delicately before Moonpool, front paws together as he regards her.
“But I didn’t… I didn’t commune with StarClan on purpose,” Moonpool says in a rush. “I– there’s not even a clan to lead.”
“We will always be available to you in your time of need, Moonpool. StarClan is with you always. It is time for you to lead NimbusClan into a new future.”
“Me first!” Condorkit yowls, knocking into Pitchstar’s legs as she bounds forward to stand on wobbly hind legs in front of Moonpool. A smile twitches the corner of Moonpool’s muzzle. She’s going to miss her Clan even more fiercely when she wakes. “Me first. Okay. I’m giving you your first life for tireless energy.”
A gasp punches out of Moonpool’s throat as Condorkit touches her nose to Moonpool’s forehead, a sense of vitality surging within her and burning all the way out to her claws and the tip of her tail. It… it hurts, the surge of energy, and she finds herself gritting her teeth as Condorkit grins as she drops back to all four paws, turning tail and bouncing back into the group of assembled StarClan cats.
Next, Cliffstripe and Frostcrest pad forward.
“Mom,” Moonpool mews, voice choked with emotion as the burning pain recedes, leaving her paws tingling, “dad.” She butts her head against each of theirs, brushing her pale pelt between their starry ones. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know that I’m meant to lead.”
“Sometimes,” her mother begins, voice gentle, “these responsibilities are thrust upon us, and it is wiser to let the river carry you than to fight it upstream.” Frostcrest smiles at her. There’s a slight bow to her eyebrows, something in her expression that Moonpool recognizes as worry, but Frostcrest continues before Moonpool can ask her what’s wrong. “You will be an amazing leader, kit. Stay true to you. Your Clan needs you now. I give you this life for confidence.”
“And I, a life for mercy. Tell your brother that we miss him, too,” Cliffstripe adds, and both of Moonpool’s parents lean forward to press their noses to her forehead. She braces against the rush this time as it surges through her, an alternating sensation of warm and cool, feeling as though it could lift her off of her paws.
Froststripe gives her one last lick to her shoulder, eyes sad but muzzle smiling as she turns with Cliffstripe and walks back into the crowd of cats.
Another kit bounds forward, a brown tabby with eyes that glow with ethereal light.
“Whisperkit,” Moonpool greets warmly, bending to speak with him face to face.
“Never give up, okay?” The seriousness in Whisperkit’s quiet tone is almost enough to make Moonpool chuckle, if the circumstances were different. If Whisperkit were still alive. “I give you this life for hope.”
Loudtalon, NimbusClan’s medicine cat, pads forward. “You’ve always been smart, Moonpool. Keep it up. I give you this life for wisdom.”
“If you weren’t fit to be leader, you wouldn’t have made it this far,” Pebblespore, the deputy, assures. “I give you this life for certainty.”
Currentpaw swaggers from the crowd, grinning at Moonpool. She used to be bigger than Moonpool, in life. Now, Moonpool is tall enough to look down at her. Friendly challenge is bright in her ghostly eyes. “You never could beat me in our sparring sessions, but I bet you’d be able to now. Keep practicing, so you can always keep your clan safe. I give you this life for strength.”
Finally, Pitchstar steps forward, his black pelt almost indistinguishable from the night sky surrounding them. There is pride in his gaze as he stares unwaveringly into Moonpool’s eyes, and something more. Something indecipherable. “You will make a fine leader, Moonstar. I would choose no other cat to follow in my pawsteps. NimbusClan is yours, now. I will ensure that you succeed.”
A shiver works its way through Moonpool’s fur, despite the lack of sensation up here above the clouds. With a start, she realizes she’s not cold, nor warm. There is no wind that ruffles her fur, no firm ground beneath her paws. She is snared by Pitchstar’s eyes, inches from her own, intense and otherworldly.
“I give you this life for protection.” He presses his black nose to her head, a sudden, violent burst of pain twisting through her that feels like she’s run full speed into a rock wall, then turns with the swish of a long tail. Moonpool stares at his retreating back. The pain fades and she feels full of vibrant energy, near to bursting.
She’s just beginning to wonder how she’s supposed to get back to her living body, back to her brother, when her thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of another cat. “You are not done yet. You have one more life left to receive.” Moonpool doesn’t recognize this cat. They’re dark-furred, with a ticked pelt and naked, scarred paws. “I am Oddghost, one of NimbusClan’s prior medicine cats, long before your time. You will face many challenges, Moonpool. Walk always in the path of StarClan, with your brother at your side. Believe not just in your ancestors, but in your own power. In the power of your Clanmates. You are only as strong as your Clan. I grant you your final life for faith.”
Moonpool’s final life surges into her, seeping through her body with such strength her vision whites out, the starry cats in front of her fading from view.
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The sound of frantic pawsteps could be heard first, Amberpaw growing alert and rising from her spot near Cliffstripe where they’d been chatting. Part of his hearing damaged by his loss of an ear, it seemed the ginger warrior was unaware something was approaching before his companions demeanor changed, looking up at her quizzically with his remaining yellow eye.
“Someone’s coming.” She meows simply, fixated on the camp's entrance. Cliffstripe pulls himself into a sitting position, trying to prepare himself for anything.
Dashpaw is a blur when he breaks through the clearing; had it not been for the unfamiliar scent he carried with him, the ginger warrior might not have been able to tell that he even had a kit held firmly in his jaws. The half-white tom locks his eyes on Amberpaw, making a b-line to her and promptly placing the kitten a tail-length in front of her paws.
“I need you to look after him.” Without waiting for a response, he turns his head towards Cliffstripe. “Cliffstripe, I need you to follow me. There are two more kits still. Flippaw is running a diversion, but I don’t know how much time she’ll have.”
Cliffstripe nods firmly. “Got it.” In an instant, he’s on his paws, muscles tensing and preparing for a run.
“A diversion!?” Amberpaw shouts, looking desperately at Dashpaw for more details. “Dashpaw what-”
“There’s no time to explain right now! I’ll tell you everything in a bit!” In typical Dashpaw fashion, he’s gone before she could finish her questioning. Cliffstripe shoots her an apologetic glance before taking off after the other tom.
Giving a sigh, Amberpaw slumps back onto her haunches and looks down at the young kit that was placed at her paws. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, kit. I’m Amberpaw.” She offers the tan tabby a kind smile, thinking back to the time when Flippaw was still this small and hoping to StarClan the molly was going to be alright.
--
“Explain to me what’s going on.” Cliffstripe says firmly between the pounding of his paws. “What do I need to know?”
Dashpaw was a few paces ahead of him, leading the way. He doesn’t spare a glance back at the warrior, and hopes that his voice can be heard well enough from his position. “Flippaw and I were in the outer fields -- she smelled blood, I smelled a wolf. I tried to leave, but she found these kits instead-” He stops for a second to catch his breath before continuing. “-she said she was going to lead the wolf away so we could get the kits! She didn’t even give me a choice about it!”
Were it not for the severity of the situation, Cliffstripe would almost find it humorous; perhaps Dashpaw had rubbed off more on the younger molly than he had thought. “Did you find their mother?”
“I’m guessing that’s the source of the blood-smell.” Dashpaw shouts back grimly.
Try as he did, Dashpaw couldn’t catch a single trace of Flippaw’s current whereabouts; maybe that was for the best? Hopefully that meant she was successful in leading the beast away.
When they reached the remaining two kits, one of them had started crying out for its mother, the sound of her tiny voice causing Cliffstripe’s heart to ache. To lose one's family so young… He approaches the kit slowly, lowering himself to appear less threatening.
“Hey, it’s okay.” The other kit, the blue one, hisses and lashes a tiny paw out defensively. Her sister waddles forward on unsteady paws and sniffs at Cliffstripe curiously.
“This is sweet and all, Cliff’, but we gotta be going.” Dashpaw warned, tail twitching nervously behind him.
Drawing himself back up, Ciffstripe licks at his chest, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Ah- no, you’re right.” He turns back to the pair of kittens and picks up the remaining brown and white she-kit, Dashpaw following suit and grabbing the cranky blue one before making themselves scarce.
--
By the time they return, Amberpaw has put a nest together for the kits; lined with downy feathers from an earlier catch, it seemed the mottled tabby kit Dashpaw had brought in before had already taken up residency within. With the other two kits placed into the nest, they greet each other excitedly, the blue kit pouncing sloppily onto her brother.
“Is that all of them?” Amberpaw asks, looking at the toms.
“These are all the ones Flippaw and I found.” Dashpaw confirms.
An uneasy silence fills the clearing at the mention of the spotted apprentice’s name. Her plan was so hurried that they didn’t take the time to discuss where they’d meet up after, where she planned to goad the wolf into chasing her, really anything.
“She’ll be okay.” Cliffstripe meows, causing the others to look at him.
“How can you be so sure? She’s only been an apprentice for two moons!” Amberpaw’s voice is harsher than she intended it to be, and she flinches back from her own voice. “I’m sorry for yelling, I just-”
Cliffstripe shakes his head. “It’s okay, I understand. Just believe in her, okay? Dashpaw did, I’m going to choose to do so as well. If Flippaw thought she could manage this, then I trust her.”
Amberpaw looks uncertain still, but remains silent and simply nods. As confident as she was in herself, she struggled to find the kind of trust that Cliffstripe seemed to have in everyone.
Seeming uncomfortable with just sitting around, the molly turns her attention back to the trio of kits and tries to usher them off of the nest. “Come on, I’ll bring you inside so you can sleep.”
Dashpaw fights the urge to argue their nest placements; now wasn’t the time. He looks back to Cliffstripe, worry knitted in his brow. “When should we go out to look for her?”
“When the moon is high. I want to make sure we give her enough time and don’t meet the wrong end of a wolf.” Again.
He nods back silently, light-blue gaze fixated on the stars beginning to fill the sky. ‘StarClan, if you really exist… you better keep her safe.’
Cliffstripe (dead): Tom, adult, eyes of sunlit ice, masked, medium fur. Warrior, formerly mentored Moonpaw. Careful, good swimmer, good teacher. Father of Fogpaw and Moonpaw. 91m (in life).
