Pearpaw is honored for her role in the Ocean’s Assault, and gets her historian name early; Pearbranch.
[Image ID: Pearpaw is now Pearbranch! Under her, it reads LEVEL UP! PEARPAW → PEARBRANCH, MOSS-BALL HUNTER → GOOD HUNTER, LOVER OF STORIES → GOOD STORYTELLER.]
(Pearbranch: 10, female, historian, righteous, good hunter, good storyteller)
Honeybuzz fiercely grieves his mate. Mitespark has to stop him from attacking Yarrowclaw.
[Image ID: Honeybuzz tries to attack Yarrowclaw, but Mitespark stands between them. Honeybuzz yowls, "You should have saved them first!" Under him, it reads + CONDITION: GRIEVING.]
(Honeybuzz: 48, male, cleric, daring, sklled toolsmith, good teacher)
(Mitespark: 42, female, artisan, charismatic, great mediator)
(Yarrowclaw: 35, female, warrior, cold, fire master)
As the Clan rebuilds, Oilstar decides to bless Yarrowclaw’s heroism by giving her an honor title; Floodsplash!
[Image ID: Oilstar and Tallowheart approach Yarrowclaw, now Floodsplash. Oilstar says, " You trusted StarClan's vision and saved your Clanmates. If that isn't worthy of an honor title, what is?" Under Floodsplash, it says LEVEL UP! YARROWCLAW → FLOODSPLASH.]
---
It took two days before the five Clans could converge on RippleClan's camp and clear out the last of the floodwaters. And yes, it was five Clans working on the camp, not one. Despite the conflicts of the past year, the other four leaders stood with Oilstar, sending their warriors to restore RippleClan's ruined medicine stores and broken dens. AshClan artisans helped RippleClan carve their first leader and deputy once more into fresh sculptures, with shiny and bright paint from LynxClan. RippleClan caretakers each led a team to clean out their assigned dens, moving broken planks and seaweed and scavenging the old leather floors.
Somehow the human long pelt in the elder's den survived the storm, clumped into a corner. It now laid in the heart of camp with a dozen cats resting on it, trying to find some sense of normalcy, their salt-crusted paws kneading into the sun-warmed material. Most of those cats were RippleClan. Their legs shook from the cleaning efforts. Their muscles burned. They couldn't help anymore, no matter how much they insisted they should. That was what Yarrowclaw kept telling herself as she laid with her belly up, staring at the cascading layers of clouds above.
Yarrowclaw wanted to sleep. She wanted to rest. She knew her mind and heart needed it, perhaps more than the majority of her Clanmates. But the liar in her head kept saying she didn't need rest. She felt fine. If she wasn't tired, she should help. She shouldn't let the other Clans do everything. She was the one who saved the day. Yarrowclaw groaned and flipped onto her stomach, throwing her paws over her head. Could her thoughts please be quiet?
Even those with able bodies could not work. Rattlepelt, Wildclaw, Shrewflame, Whiteflower, and Midnightpaw (once again wearing a tight, dry bandage) sat around Troutpool as the senior cleric softly explained that while Valleypaw's body may never be found, his spirit was sitting with them right now, and he would protect his brothers and mothers no matter where he was. Paleseed worked with a WheatClan mediator in front of the repaired nursery, coaxing Honeybuzz and Stormjump's sons back inside, promising the den couldn't hurt them. Honeybuzz was nowhere to be found. Spikecrash spoke softly with Venturedapple, sharing the horror of Stormjump's body floating in the nursery.
Yes, Stormjump. At least the Clan had her body for the vigil. Only StarClan knew where Valleypaw was washed to. Stormjump now rested beside Littlekit. Yet Yarrowclaw was the hero who saved her mate and escorted everyone out of the medicine. She helped save Stormjump's kits.
It was the best day of Yarrowclaw's life.
It was the worst day of Yarrowclaw's life.
Yarrowclaw stood, shuffling the human long pelt as she moved. Currentsmoke and Yellowburst stumbled up to the crowd of resting cats, relieved of duty for the moment. Yarrowclaw scuttled off the long pelt and gave the pair a place to fall. As the caretakers closed their eyes, Yarrowclaw remembered to breath. Maybe she could take up whatever task Currentsmoke and Yellowburst broke away from? Or she could help prepare a meal for all the hardworking cats who came to RippleClan's aid? The possibilites buzzed in Yarrowclaw's head.
"Yarrowclaw." Oilstar slipped out of the leader's den with Tallowheart at her side. Despite the storm making his ribs worse, the injured historian didn't seem in much pain. Yarrowclaw allowed herself to hold the sudden pride in her chest close. She made sure Oilstar did not lose her son. No matter the circumstances, Yarrowclaw could take pride in that… right?
"Anything you need from me, Oilstar?" Yarrowclaw asked, sitting at attention.
"I was talking with my son here," Oilstar purred, gently touching her nose to Tallowheart's cheek as she spoke, "and Tallowheart had an excellent idea. I thought I would get your opinion first before I called a Clan meeting, though." Yarrowclaw tilted her head. "It's your idea, Tallow. Go ahead."
"If you hadn't come to the medicine den," Tallowheart explained, dipping his head in humility, "the waves might have taken me. You saved my life, Midnightpaw's life, and probably all the clerics too."
"I was just following the vision Estherfern gave me," Yarrowclaw muttered. "If StarClan knew I wouldn't die, I had to keep others alive."
"It was incredible," Tallowheart purred. He flinched as his purr shifted his broken ribs, but he dug through the pain. "We're calling it the Ocean's Assault, and you're the hero of that story. Because of that, I suggested to my mom that she give you an honor title." What?
"What," Yarrowclaw said.
"I don't want to change your name if you don't want this," Oilstar added. "Still, I think you deserve it. You trusted StarClan's vision and saved your Clanmates. If that isn't worthy of an honor title, what is?"
"What would you call me?" Yarrowclaw said. Her words came before her thoughts.
"Floodsplash," Oilstar purred. Fire burned behind Yarrowclaw's eyes. It was a fire that torched her fur and melted her bones, yet she couldn't step out of it. She didn't have to think about it. She couldn't think about it. She couldn't imagine regret or caution, even though she knew, deep down, something screamed at her to just stay normal.
"I love it," Floodsplash said.
(Floodsplash: 35, female, warrior, cold, fire master)
(Tallowheart: 36, male, historian, nervous, good swimmer)
Floodsplash takes her brothers on patrol, hoping one of them would understand, only for them to start fighting.
[Image ID: Floodsplash listens as Anchovystrike, Currentsmoke, and Billowhaze argue, not paying attention to her. Speech bubbles with a mass of tangled swirls surround the trio of toms.]
Author's Note: this passage features discussion of mental illness and self-harm not typically seen in RippleClan's Promise. Reader's discretion is advised.
---
Sandhollow said it was good. Sandhollow said no matter how much Floodsplash's mind fluttered from maddening highs to strange, slugging lows, she could still deserve praise. She could still be honored as a hero and not fly away, never to land. After all, she did do something grand, she didn't imagine the vision, she was special on that grim day.
Floodsplash was a fly drowning in honey, its final moments consumed in unimaginable sweetness and bliss.
RippleClan had to harvest more of their herbs from the garden than the caretakers wanted if they hoped to restock the medicine den and prepare for winter. Floodsplash formed a patrol with her brothers, each burdened with large baskets, to harvest whatever they could. Brilliant red leaves fertilized the garden, hiding the medicine-rich roots and stems RippleClan needed. Paws crinkled and shoved the leaves aside in a soothing, quiet song. The littermates set their baskets at the garden's edge.
"Don't worry too much about seeds and replanting," Currentsmoke advised his littermates as they searched the garden rows for fully grown plants. "Me and the rest of the caretakers can get what we need out of what we harvest."
"We have fennel, burdock, chicory, mallow…" Floodsplash muttered, trotting from row to row. "We just use burdock roots, don't we? Let's leave the leaves, I know you said we don't need to worry about replanting, but why take what we don't need? Chicory, that's largely the roots too, right? We can probably do the same." Stars damn it, she was rambling again.
"Weevil taught me the best way to harvest the fennel," Anchovystrike chirped. "I'll handle that!" Anchovystrike ran a paw down a tall fennel stalk.
"Be careful of the year-old plants!" Currentsmoke warned as he dug at the burdock roots. Anchovystrike simply nodded and sliced his claw through the fronds and leaves. Billowhaze cupped his paw under a mallow flower, peering into the soft petals.
The littermates worked in silence, save for Floodsplash's gentle muttering. She couldn't stop the onslaught of words that tumbled out as she danced through the garden. The more she spoke, even at a whisper, the more her thoughts grew fuzzy.
She shouldn't have been working.
"Valleypaw was so excited to work in the garden," Billowhaze muttered, snapping Floodsplash back to reality before she dug through a chicory root. Currentsmoke and Anchovystrike paused in their work.
Valleypaw. Maybe it wasn't too late. Floodsplash would survive the flood, she would survive anything involving the flood, right? That's how the vision worked. There could be a ritual. If she found Valleypaw's body, maybe she could put his soul back. Wasn't that possible? She would swim out to sea and drag it back. She would—Floodsplash's heart spasmed. No. No no no no no. Not again. That wasn't true, that wouldn't work. But with StarClan—NO! Floodsplash's claws pierced the chicory root.
"Asterblaze should never have sent him out of camp," Anchovystrike sighed. He placed a pawful of fennel into the basket sitting next to him.brought a mouthful of fennel to his basket near Currentsmoke.
"None of us knew that wave was coming, Anchovystrike," Currentsmoke whined softly, pushing aside a burdock root. "It would have been Asterblaze if it hadn't been Valleypaw."
"He was Valleypaw's mentor," Anchovystrike snapped. He spat out a clingy frond of fennel. "He had a responsibility to keep him safe. He's barely mourned him!"
"That's not fair," Currentsmoke huffed, facing his brother. "Asterblaze has been wearing himself down to rebuild the camp. Of course he's mourning Valleypaw."
"Since when have you been so against Asterblaze?" Billowhaze added, stepping away from his work.
"I'm just saying, he should have taken the more dangerous job," Anchovystrike grumbled with a thrash of his tail. "It's… we don't even have his body to mourn! Can you imagine how Midnightpaw feels right now? All I did was make a comment and suddenly everyone feels the need to defend Asterblaze. Let's go back to work." No, let's not. Floodsplash needed to stop. The crumbled remains of the chicory root rested in front of her.
"Anchovystrike…" Currentsmoke groaned, whiskers twitching awkwardly. "Are you sure you're talking about Asterblaze here? Maybe you're…. talking about yourself, too?" Anchovystrike's tail fluffed up, high and shivering.
"Yes, and I don't even know why we're arguing about this," Anchovystrike groaned. "It's all so dumb! I just made a stupid comment, and now you're saying that taking my apprentice hunting is as bad as sending him out in a flood!"
"It was an accident!" Billowhaze and Currentsmoke yowled at once.
"I need help," Floodsplash said. Her mouth was dry. Maybe she could stop their arguing by climbing up a tree and jumping into them, that would shut them up. How selfish were they? Was Floodsplash the only one still doing her work? For StarClan's sake, could one of them listen to her?
"Everything's an accident, everything's on purpose," Anchovystrike hissed, bobbing side to side with emphasis. "I've been fixing the dens non-stop since we got back into camp, maybe I, I want someone to blame! Who else am I going to blame, Yar—I mean Floodsplash? She actually saved lives, Aster—"
"I'm going to kill myself!" Floodsplash shrieked. There. That got her brothers' attention. Their eyes snapped on her like hunters upon a foaming rabbit. Floodsplash panted like she ran across all five Clans. He skin burned and the buzzing in her head clawed at her good eye. She let her mouth go. "I don't trust myself, and I don't want to do anything to myself, so I need you to shut up and help me get home."
Floodsplash sat. Or perhaps she fell. She couldn't tell.
"Alright," Billowhaze choked out, voice as dry as Floodsplash's mouth. "Alright, we… we have plans for this." He glanced at Anchovystrike and Currentsmoke. All three toms had deep shadows over their faces. "Uh… do you…"
"I don't know what's true right now," Floodsplash warned. She sank slowly. A familiar feral panic gripped her chest. "I need to use my powers and help the Clan. I don't have powers, I can't have powers, I can't be special. I'm going to get myself killed. Why did Estherfern tell me about that star-damned vision?" Currentsmoke nuzzled Floodsplash, whimpering deeply.
"I don't know what to tell you," Anchovystrike muttered. Billowhaze gently nudged Floodsplash back to her paws. Her feet burned.
"I know your mind takes things too far," Currentsmoke whined, "but you can still be important."
"I don't want to die," Floodsplash cried. She should have died in the flood. It didn't make sense that she didn't. Why did it have to be her?
But Floodsplash wasn't going to die. For once, that wasn't mania whispering tempting tales of invulnerability. Billowhaze and Currentsmoke pressed against either side of her, baskets abandoned. Anchovystrike led them back toward camp. Floodsplash let herself stumble into her brothers.
It was tempting to call her own mind a battlefield, her condition a war. It certainly felt as deadly at times. Yet her brothers were not warriors at her side, and, as Sandhollow would soon tell Floodsplash while setting up a nest in the medicine den, she couldn't fight herself.
With her brothers' aid, all Floodsplash had to do was weather the floodwaters.
(Floodsplash: 35, female, warrior, cold, fire master)
(Currentsmoke: 35, male, caretaker, loving, good climber, inventor and innovator)
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Elmsprout and Lavendertwist welcome two kits into the world.
[Image ID: Elmsprout and Lavendertwist face two newborn kits; a ginger and white kit, and a pale silver kit with a few white markings. Under Elmsprout, it says - CONDITION: PREGNANT, + CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH. Under the ginger kit, it says NEW PLAYER: GINGERKIT, 0, MALE, CHARMING. Under the silver kit, it says NEW PLAYER: FROSTKIT, 0, FEMALE, QUIET.]
(Lavendertwist: 50, male, historian, playful, great singer, good storyteller)
(Gingerkit: 0, male, kit, charming)
(Frostkit: 0, female, kit, quiet)
Currentsmoke expresses his concern about Yarrowclaw's recent behavior.
[Image ID: Mosspounce, Wolfgaze, Sandhollow, Weevilsight, and Anchovystrike run in a patrol, with Mosspounce calling "Yarrowclaw, get off the horse-path." Under Weevilsight, it says - INFECTION.]
---
Anchovystrike couldn't really share tongues with his brother, not like he wished he could. After all, Currentsmoke couldn't groom him back. It didn't help that the thick wound across Currentsmoke's face was still infected, covered in oozing concoctions. Weevilsight said the infections came and went, but to Anchovystrike, it all seemed like one big, continous disease. Yet that didn't matter. Injured or not, Currentsmoke was going to enjoy the anniversary celebration with the rest of RippleClan, basking in the sunhigh glow.
Most of the Clan was busy around Elmsprout and Lavendertwist. They had just given their litter of two, Frostkit and Gingerkit, their names, and everyone wanted to show the two tiny kittens what the warm sand and cool sea felt like. Meanwhile, the artisans and caretakers used some of RippleClan's precious salt to season enough prey for everyone. Anchovystrike and Weevilsight shared a woodpecker while Weevilsight helped Currentsmoke drink some salty, herb-soaked broth. The three cats basked in the summer sunshine, content with their meals.
"You know, Currentsmoke," Weevilsight sighed, nestling into the sand, "if you end up with a big scar from this, you won't be alone. Most of my tail has healed, but fighting that infection left a lot of the skin raw." Weevilsight showed off her tail, which no longer sported any bandages, as it had over the last few moons. Yet the skin was still pink and raw, irritated from exposure to other cats' diseases. The scarring ran across her ginger and black fur like new tortoiseshell markings. Had Weevilsight been a warrior, it would have been a mark of beauty.
"I duhn't care ah-out scars," Currentsmoke grumbled. "I just 'anna li'eh."
"You're not dying on us," Anchovystrike huffed, shoving Currentsmoke's shoulder. "You've got four clerics looking after you, and you've got me, Billowhaze, and Yarrowclaw keeping you busy. You're the best of us, Current. You're not going anywhere anytime soon." Currentsmoke purred and gently bunted heads with his brother, making sure not to touch his wounds. The supernatural glimmer in Weevilsight's pelt glowed brighter at the sight, and Anchovystrike purred just a bit harder. Yet as Anchovystrike dug into his share of the woodpecker, Currentsmoke tensed. Anchovystrike could feel Currentsmoke's tired muscles harden as he rested against him.
"More pain, Currentsmoke?" Weevilsight asked. She sniffed at Currentsmoke's jaw.
"Nuh," Currentsmoke mumbled. He scanned the happy crowd trapsing through the sand and salt water. Anchovystrike followed his gaze, unsure what he was looking for. "Souh'ing's wruhng 'ith Yarr'acla'ah."
"Yarrowclaw?" Anchovystrike clarified.
"She has been a little strange the last few moons," Weevilsight admitted. "Did you hear about her hunting patrol last moon?"
"She's been overworking herself, I know," Anchovystrike huffed. "But she realizes it eventually. She just gets into these moods lately."
"It's muhre than that," Currentsmoke insisted. The injured tom groaned and slowly pushed himself to his paws. His legs shook, his body's battle with his injuries draining too much strength from him to stay up for long. "She's nuh't here. Souh'ing's wruhng." Weevilsight pushed against Currentsmoke, making sure he didn't collapse. Currentsmoke tried to shake Weevilsight off, but hissed as the bandages restraining his jaw rubbed the wrong way.
Anchovystrike gave the anniversary celebration another look over. Was Yarrowclaw with Billowhaze? No, Billowhaze was joking with Wolfgaze and Ravenweaver over their own share of salty meat. Maybe she was spending time with her former mentor. No, that wasn't right either, Rapidleaf was talking through something with Estherfern, probably bonding over recent messages from StarClan or something of the sort. Yarrowclaw was close with Estherfern's litter, she was probably splashing through the water with them! And yet, no. Brightreed, Wolverineheart, Boughfur, and Thundergale were each busy with their own fun. Currentsmoke was right. Yarrowclaw wasn't at the anniversary celebration.
"Why do you think something is wrong?" Weevilsight asked, easing Currentsmoke back down.
"I heard her," Currentsmoke groaned. "She f'isited 'e. She didn't 'ake sense. She said she was going to cah'lete a rituh'al to cuh're 'e."
"To cure you?" Weevilsight muttered. "But we've said all the prayers we can think of. Estherfern even helped Honeybuzz commune with the Celestial of Broken Bones herself for extra advice and blessings. What could Yarrowclaw do?"
"She's in dang'ah!" Currentsmoke snapped. He tried to stand again, but his rising nerves worked in tamdem with his weakness and send him back into the sand.
"Rabbitjoy mentioned something about a ritual last moon," Anchovystrike realized. "That was why Yarrowclaw caught all that prey." Anchovystrike stood, shaking sand out of his fur. "You're right, Currentsmoke. I don't like this. I… I think I misunderstood what Yarrowclaw's been going through. We need to find her."
"I'm with you, Anchovy," Weevilsight promised, stretching. "I'm going to fetch Honeybuzz so he can look after Currentsmoke. Think you can put together a patrol?"
"Easily," Anchovystrike purred, nodding. He rubbed against Currentsmoke and said, "Don't worry, Current. We'll make sure Yarrowclaw is alright." Weevilsight and Anchovystrike crossed by each other, each focused on their goals. Anchovystrike wormed around his Clanmates, focused on Billowhaze, Wolfgaze, and Ravenweaver.
"Wolfgaze," Anchovystrike called as his friends and brother tried to fight off their giggles. "Can you join me for a bit? I need your help with something."
"What do you have to do that can't wait until after our celebration?" Ravenweaver asked, coughing to clear her laughter.
"Just…" Anchovystrike gulped, glancing at Billowhaze. "Call it a favor for a friend."
"You know I'd be happy to help," Wolfgaze said, getting to her paws. "Enjoy the rest of the meal for me, Billowhaze!"
"With pleasure," Billowhaze hummed, taking a huge bite out of the salted squirrel. Wolfgaze tucked her head and followed Anchovystrike.
"So you know," Anchovystrike chuckled, "we're going to talk about your interest in my brother later." Wolfgaze groaned softly, batting at her own red ears. "Right now though, I'm more interested in my sister. Can you go grab your dad and join me? I think Mosspounce could help a lot."
"Is something wrong with Yarrowclaw?" Wolfgaze asked, romantic embarassment fading.
"Just get your dad," Anchovystrike asked. Wolfgaze nodded and surged into the partying cats, calling for Mosspounce. Anchovystrike, meanwhile, headed for Sandhollow. The cream-tinted tom splashed through the water with Slushtrail and Tallowheart, the three of them squealing like kits. If Currentsmoke hadn't sounded so serious, Anchovystrike would have joined them in their fun.
"Sandhollow," Anchovystrike called. Sandhollow paused n his frolicking, just as Tallowheart's tail sent a wave of salt water into his face. Slushtrail and Tallowheart laughed as Sandhollow rubbed his eyes, trying to get the salt out.
"You two are so ridiculous," Sandhollow chuckled, stumbling out of the water. He shook out his pelt, spraying Anchovystrike. His fur stuck out like thorns. "Hi, Anchovystrike."
"Sandhollow, you've grown close to my sister since you graduated, haven't you?" Anchovystrike asked. "I've seen you spend time with her." Sandhollow's face darkened.
"Something's happened to her, hasn't it?" Sandhollow said.
"I don't know," Anchovystrike admitted as Slushtrail and Tallowheart waded onto the beach, the fun of the moment dead. "I want to make sure nothing does. We need to find her. Can you come with me?"
"Of course," Sandhollow huffed, giving himself a few quick licks to smooth his pelt.
"I should come too," Slushtrail said, sliding up to her fellow mediator.
"I think our little patrol is getting crowded, Slushtrail," Anchovystrike chuckled awkwardly.
"I can handle it, Slush," Sandhollow promised, side-eyeing Slushtrail.
"Is Yarrowclaw in danger or something?" Tallowheart asked.
"Or something, Tallowheart!" Anchovystrike snapped, making the young historian jump. "We just need to go, alright?" Tallowheart stepped back, nodding quickly and avoiding eye contact. Anchovystrike sighed, taking a deep breath. He would have time to apologize later. "Over here, Sandhollow." Sandhollow was at Anchovystrike's side with just a flick of the latter's tail. Slushtrail and Tallowheart watched on as the two toms jogged over to Weevilsight, Wolfgaze, and Mosspounce.
"What exactly is the problem here?" Mosspounce huffed as Anchovystrike and Sandhollow joined the patrol.
"We don't know all the details," Weevilsight sighed, her focused, glowing gaze resting on each Clanmate. "I think we've all noticed Yarrowclaw has had… a lot of busy days, lately. We're worried it's more than that. Currentsmoke thinks she's in danger, and I'm inclined to believe him."
"I'm not trying to undermine your worry, really," Mosspounce said, awkwardness twitching through his whiskers, "but as the oldest cat here, and I really hate that that's true, I should point out the obvious. Yarrowclaw's an adult. She's allowed to leave the party. Are you sure we need to track her down?"
"Currentsmoke knows cats," Anchovystrike huffed. "He's one of the most caring cats I know. He knows when something's wrong. He saw Yarrowclaw wasn't here and panicked. If he thinks we need to find her, we should find her."
"Wanted to make sure you were serious," Mosspounce assured him. "Now the other question… do we have any idea where she might be?"
"Let's check camp first," Wolfgaze suggested, jogging across the sand. "It might be that simple!" The patrol ran after Wolfgaze, sand sticking to their half-wet paws. They left behind the music and laughter of their Clan and ran toward their shipwreck home.
Carnationspeckle lounged at the entrance of camp, absent-minded in her guard duty, dozing off in the warm, almost blistering sun. She snapped to attention as the patrol hurried up to her, however.
"Are you all alright?" Carnationspeckle asked. "You look so serious. Did something happen?"
"We're alright, Carnationspeckle," Sandhollow promised, panting, "but is Yarrowclaw in camp? Did you see her?"
"She's not in camp," Carnationspeckle said, shaking her head, "but I did see her! She headed south a short time ago. Is she alright?"
"Keep your ears perked for us, would you Carnationspeckle?" Anchovystrike asked, paws carrying him to the shoreline. Weevilsight and Wolfgaze scrambled behind him.
"Anchovystrike, wait!" Carnationspeckle yowled, but Anchovystrike's focus was elsewhere.
Anchovystrike breathed deep as the lips of a heavy wave stretched to meet his paws. The salt stung his nose and blinded him to even the smell of Weevilsight beside him. Anchovystrike's chest tightened. Call it instinct, call it brotherly intuition, call it the power of the All-Seeing for all he cared, Anchovystrike's whole body screamed at him to find Yarrowclaw, right now.
"I smell her!" Wolfgaze cried, tail shooting up. She sniffed the sand, whiskers pooling Yarrowclaw's scent together and into a narrative in Wolfgaze's mind. The patrol gathered around her. The heat molded into Anchovystrike's anxiety, making his fur burn. "Carnationspeckle is right, she went south!"
"That's my kit," Mosspounce cheered, sniffing. "I got the scent too. We'll find her together. This way, you three!" Wolfgaze and Mosspounce ran along the sand and grass, hopping from scent bubble to scent bubble. Anchovystike, Weevilsight, and Sandhollow matched their pace.
Yarrowclaw's trail drifted from the cool shoreline into the speckled hills. There was no banter in this patrol, no breaks. Every cat stayed focused on the task ahead. They pushed through the mental haze of sunhigh and kept moving. They would find her. She hadn't gotten far. They just had to keep going. She'd be fine. She'd be fine.
"Anchovystrike." Sandhollow ran alongside Anchovystrike, who suddenly found his chest too tight and the air barely breaching his lungs. "Breathe. Don't pass out on us." Breathe. Yes, breathe. Anchovystrike forced the air into him like a drowning cat.
They heard Yarrowclaw before they saw her.
"I can hear them! I can hear the horses, Robin, thundering down and down and down the path, down the path to save him! Thundering hooves strike the ground, it's lightning, lightning in the sky, or is that my heart? Is my heart in their hooves? Smashed under their hooves? Robinkit, they're coming! They're coming! Strike me! Hit me! His pain to my pain, my pain to his, StarClan's will be done, but not with this, no no, not with Current! You can't take him, Robinkit! Not yet! And you're never taking me! Never!"
Yarrowclaw paced in the center of the horse-path. Her tail thrashed wildly, as though she was in the middle of a battle. She kicked up dust like a kit playing in the sand. She screeched down the path, good eye shifting in and out of focus. Anchovystrike could not hear any horses.
"Yarrowclaw, get off the horse-path," Mosspounce barked, charging toward the border. Anchovystrike, Weevilsight, Wolfgaze, and
"I'll be fine!" Yarrowclaw shrieked. Anchovystrike never heard such laughter in his sister's voice before. "It's for Current! It's for Current! It's my destiny, it's my purpose! They're almost here! Here, here, I hear them, they're deafening, they're here to hear me, they're here for me!" Yarrowclaw's laughter suffocated Anchovystrike. Yarrowclaw coughed, choking on her escasty. Her laughter dissolved into a death wail, the same frenzied expression stuck on her face. "Stop it! Stop the noise! Trample me already! Break it! Break my jaw! Don't take him! Don't take him!" Yarrowclaw stumbled, jaw smacking into the dry path.
"Freeze her!" Weevilsight wailed with a heartbreak Anchovystrike hadn't heard since that fateful day in the nursery. "Wolfgaze!"
At the same time, Yarrowclaw cried, pushing herself up, "I can't keep waiting! I have to take it from him!" Yarrowclaw wrenched her head back.
Suddenly, the world stood still. Yarrowclaw's guttural cries stopped with the blink of an eye. The wind stirred her dusty fur. Her sightless eye stared at Anchovystrike as the patrol finally reached the horse-path. Wolfgaze, too, was frozen, but her eyes, focused and terrified, stayed stuck on Yarrowclaw.
"Don't break my line of sight," Wolfgaze gulped as Anchovystrike and Sandhollow approached Yarrowclaw's supernaturally frozen form. "We've never moved someone when they're frozen, I don't know if we can."
"Just stop her," Weevilsight begged, hiding her face in her father's shoulder. "I hate this vision. Don't let it happen." Anchovystrike knew better than to pry into Weevilsight's darkest visions. He carefully walked behind Yarrowclaw and tucked himself under her head. With his head right up to Yarrowclaw's pelt, Anchovystrike could truly see Wolfgaze's power in action. There was a faint shimmering line surrounding Yarrowclaw's body. Anchovystrike could only see it if he focused, but the lines rippled like water and pressed against Yarrowclaw.
"We'll unfreeze her and get her off the horse-path," Sandhollow said, jaws close to Yarrowclaw's scruff. "Mosspounce, be ready to help us. I don't think she's going to go quietly." Wolfgaze swallowed hard.
As soon as Wolfgaze blinked, Yarrowclaw came to life. She swung her head down hard, but rather than hitting the hoof-hardened horse-path, her muzzle smacked into Anchovystrike's shoulder.
"No!" Yarrowclaw cried as Sandhollow grabbed her scruff. "No no no! He'll die! I'm the only one, I'm the only one that can save him, I'm the only one! I won't be hurt! I can't be hurt! No!" Sandhollow and Anchovystrike dragged Yarrowclaw off the horse-path. Yarrowclaw swung her claws at Anchovystrike's muzzle. She caught her brother's lip, sending a stream of blood trickling into Anchovystrike's mouth. Anchovystrike hissed and shoved Yarrowclaw onto the grass lining the horse-path. Mosspounce left his terrified daughter's side and stood on Yarrowclaw's shoulders. Anchovystrike stood on her flank.
"Yarrowclaw, can you hear me?" Sandhollow asked softly, crouching at the trapped molly's level. "Shh, you're safe, I promise."
"No, I have to go," Yarrowclaw cried, face as torn as the day she saw Robinkit and Harvest's bodies cooling in the nursery. "There's too much to do, I can't stay here, I have to go."
"There's nothing you need to do except breathe," Sandhollow assured her. "Weevilsight is going to find some herbs to calm your mind. It seems like there's a lot going on in there, am I right?"
"Currentsmoke's going to die unless I transfer his wounds to me," Yarrowclaw wailed. Her pinned claws dug up tufts of grass.
"Yarrowclaw, that kind of ritual doesn't exist," Mosspounce snapped. Yarrowclaw's chest heaved, ragged breaths morphing into sobs. "You have to snap out of it."
"Mosspounce, with all due respect," Sandhollow hissed quietly, suddenly at the caretaker's ear, "stop talking. Let the tom with mediator training use his training, alright?"
"How do we calm her down?" Mosspounce asked. Yarrowclaw kicked at Anchovystrike, but Anchovystrike laid on her hind legs. All Yarrowclaw could do was flex her claws helplessly.
"There's a patch of tall lettuce that loves to sprout near here," Weevilsight stammered. "That should help. I, I'll be right back!" Weevilsight scurried over the hills and through the trees, unable to stop her pelt from bristling.
Wolfgaze silently took over for Anchovystrike as Sandhollow whispered to Yarrowclaw, rubbing on the edges of her delusions. Anchovystrike laid beside Yarrowclaw rather than on top of her. Yet as he rested his head, something glimmered in the top of his vision.
Anchovystrike hadn't seen this strange sight since that moment in Downstar's den, coping with the sudden loss of his mother and brother. Soft streams of light flowed around Yarrowclaw and her captors like the glistening pawsteps of StarClan. Even against the shine of the midday sun, the light couldn't blind Anchovystrike. It pulled the weight out of his chest. Yarrowclaw sobbed deep, her whole body tensing. Then, she relaxed, deflating into her own unknowable misery.
"If that's you, Robinkit," Anchovystrike whispered, just quiet enough for him to hear, "thank you. And I'm sorry."
The ethereal light slithered around Yarrowclaw and dove sharply. It weaved into the back of the brown molly's head like a snake sliding into its hole. As it entered Yarrowclaw's body, the warrior sheathed her claws. Blades of grass stuck up between her toes. Sandhollow groomed Yarrowclaw's cheeks as Yarrowclaw sobbed and muttered a string of nonsense.
Anchovystrike wouldn't claim to understand what was wrong, or what needed to be done. But what he could do was groom his sister's fur and murmur gentle assurances.
(Anchovystrike: 19, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)
(Weevilsight: 19, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
(Currentsmoke: 19, male, caretaker, loving, good climber, skilled toolsmith)
(Ravenweaver: 19, female, artisan, nervous, den builder, very clever)
(Wolfgaze: 19, female, codekeeper, thoughful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)
(Billowhaze: 19, male, historian, loyal, good kit-sitter)
[Image ID: Anchovystrike says to Sandhollow and Spikecrash "I’ve dealt with a lot for a cat my age. This is nothing in comparison. Yarrowclaw’s still the cocky, rough-as-salt molly I know. She’s still the cat I have fun with. She’s just got a few extra traits now." Yarrowclaw sits in the back. Under her, it reads + PERMANENT CONDITION: DAY-NIGHT CYCLING.]
---
"So Yarrowclaw's crazy now?" Cobaltchaser gulped, settling deeper into her nest.
"Cobaltchaser!" Lightningrunner whined, sneering. "You can't call your Clanmates crazy!"
"That's what she sounds like," Cobaltchaser pointed out. "I'm not insulting her. Some cats are crazy. They can't control it."
"Maybe we don't call anyone crazy," Anchovystrike sighed, cheek on the edge of his nest.
By the time Anchovystrike and his patrol came back to camp with Yarrowclaw, nearly half the Clan had left the celebration at the beach, wondering just what they were up to. Weevilsight's tall lettuce helped soothe Yarrowclaw, so she didn't enter camp yowling and crying, but everyone could tell she was in a fragile state. Paleseed and Spikecrash kept the Clan back until Sandhollow and Weevilsight settled Yarrowclaw in the medicine den. Anchovystrike had Mosspounce and Lemmy to thank afterward; the whole Clan was about to pry Anchovystrike for an explanation, but the moment Mosspounce spoke with his mate, Lemmy pushed everyone away, reminding them the value of a cat's privacy. That didn't mean cats like Cobaltchaser and Lightningrunner didn't try to ask later, as the entire camp relaxed after the party and settled down within the warm summer night.
"He's her brother, mouse-brain," Lightningrunner huffed. "He doesn't have to tell us the whole story. Yarrowclaw's going through a hard enough time without us getting in her business."
"At least one of you gets it," Anchovystrike said, getting up. "I think storytime is over, anyway." Anchovystrike crept through the maze of nests that made up the warrior's den. Most cats were already in their nests, getting ready to sleep. Anchovystrike tried not to look at Yarrowclaw's empty nest. He failed.
Outside the den, only a few cats remained out. Downstar and Oilstripe spoke with Spikecrash by the Shiprock while Billowhaze sat with Currentsmoke and Estherfern outside the medicine den. Wolfgaze and Mosspounce shared tongues outside the warrior's den and perked up when Anchovystrike stepped out.
"How are you feeling?" Wolfgaze asked softly.
"Like my sister just tried to kill herself," Anchovystrike chuckled wetly. Mosspounce set his head against Anchovystrike's shoulder, pouring his sympathy into him. "The nap helped, at least. I'll have to thank Lemmy for giving me some room to breathe."
"If it helps," Wolfgaze sighed, licking Anchovystrike's ear, "I don't think she realized she could have died."
"Is Billowhaze mad I didn't bring him with us?" Anchovystrike asked.
"It's bad enough you had to see that," Mosspounce huffed. "If that was Trumpetspore on the horse-path, I wouldn't have been able to do anything. Billowhaze should be grateful he wasn't there."
"He understood after I talked to him," Wolfgaze said. "Just be with your brothers, Anchovystrike. I can move my nest closer to you tonight, if you want."
"That would help," Anchovystrike sighed, touching noses with Wolfgaze. "I can't thank you enough for your help."
"Yarrowclaw's our friend too," Mosspounce purred, setting his tail on Anchovystrike's back. "We would have helped regardless. Good luck tonight." With that, Mosspounce and Wolfgaze entered the warrior's den, leaving Anchovystrike to face his family head-on.
Currentsmoke spotted Anchovystrike first. He raised his head from his curled position and batted Billowhaze's leg.
"I don't like that I had to hear about Yarrowclaw from someone else, Anchovystrike," Billowhaze huffed. Anchovystrike approached with his head low.
"He sa'ed her," Currentsmoke sighed as Estherfern put her nose in his ear. "Sat's enough."
"All this stress brought Currentsmoke's fever back," Estherfern muttered, shaking her head.
"Oh, so now you're interested in medicine?" Anchovystrike hummed, daring to raise his head.
"I've put my pride aside," Estherfern scoffed. "That's not what you should be focusing on tonight." Billowhaze sighed and cleared space for Anchovystrike to sit between him and Currentsmoke.
"Sandhollow told us that since Yarrowclaw isn't fully of sound mind," Billowhaze sighed, "he's going to keep us informed on Yarrowclaw and what she needs going forward." Anchovystrike nodded softly. He glanced into the medicine den. He could just hear Sandhollow inside, speaking softly with Yarrowclaw. When Sandhollow's blue eyes turned toward him, Anchovystrike quickly looked away. Moments later, Sandhollow stepped outside.
"Spikecrash?" he called softly. Spikecrash turned from her conversation with Downstar and Oilstripe. She bade the leader and deputy farewell and joined her former apprentice beside the three brothers.
"Estherfern," Spikecrash cooed, "we can watch over Currentsmoke if you'd like to nest for the night."
"Here's to a quiet night," Estherfern hummed, nodding to the mediators. She nodded to each of the three toms beside her before she slipped around Sandhollow and into the medicine den. Sandhollow and Spikecrash sat with their backs to the medicine den, as though shielding Anchovystrike and his brothers from what laid within.
"First things first," Sandhollow explained, "Yarrowclaw's safe and resting. She probably won't sleep tonight with her mania, but she'll at least stay in the medicine den. Even if she doesn't plan on staying, Spikecrash has asked for a caretaker to watch her through the night." Spikecrash nodded along with her apprentice's assessment.
"Mania, what is that?" Anchovystrike asked.
"You could consider it the opposite of depression," Spikecrash sighed. "Rather than feeling low, your emotions are elevated. Everything is more vibrant, more stimulating, your joy and rage and panic are stronger than ever before. We believe these periods of activity Yarrowclaw's had over the last few moons have been manic episodes. When a cat goes through these periods of mania, their emotions crash afterward into depression. We call it day-night cycling. Mania is like the day, bright and burning, while the depression afterward is like the night, gloomy and dark."
"Yarrowclaw is depressed too?" Billowhaze moaned.
"It's not the same for everyone," Sandhollow assured him, shifting a paw closer. "From what we've been able to gather about Yarrowclaw's behavior, she may focus more on the 'day' side of this cycling than the 'night' side."
"What should we know?" Anchovystrike asked. "To keep her safe, I mean."
"For now?" Sandhollow sighed. "Just show her support. We can talk through the specifics another time. This is a lot to process. It's been a long day. You should all rest."
"Honestly, Sandhollow?" Anchovystrike chuckled, focusing on the glow of the medicine den. "I’ve dealt with a lot for a cat my age. This is nothing in comparison. Yarrowclaw’s still the cocky, rough-as-salt molly I know. She’s still the cat I have fun with. She’s just got a few extra traits now. Right?"
"Exactly," Spikecrash purred.
"We still want to see her though," Billowhaze said. "You said she's awake."
"Currentsmoke's sleeping in the medicine den, he'll get to see her," Billowhaze pointed out, his paw almost smacking Currentsmoke. "Just let us in for a little bit."
"It's best not to fight them on this, Sandhollow," Spikecrash cautioned, rubbing her tail along Sandhollow's back. "You three can see her, but be quiet and don't take long. The clerics are trying to sleep, and Wolverineheart has an ear infection they're monitoring." Billowhaze helped Currentsmoke to his paws. Anchovystrike touched noses with the mediators, but his mind was already in the medicine den. He led his brothers into the shadows of the ancient wood.
Potterypool sat guard beside Yarrowclaw as Wolverineheart and the clerics settled down to nest. Although Yarrowclaw's eyes drooped, she stayed alert, scratching at the moss in her nest. Someone groomed the dust and snarls out of her pelt and lined her nest with lavender. Billowhaze escorted Currentsmoke into his nest beside Yarrowclaw. Currentsmoke's paw hooked the edge of Yarrowclaw's nest as he stared at his sister. Anchovystrike loafed in front of Yarrowclaw, with Billowhaze sitting beside him.
"Potterypool won't let me leave," Yarrowclaw muttered, glaring at her guard.
"Do you want me to disobey Sandhollow?" Potterypool sighed, giving her charge nary a side-eye. "I'm not going on trial for letting something happen to you."
"I was going to cure Currentsmoke… I think," Yarrowclaw sighed. She rubbed her face, groaning, "I don't really remember all of it. There were horses… or maybe that was my heart. I feel like I'm the middle of a battlefield."
"You were trying to break your jaw," Anchovystrike muttered. Some of the day's panic crawled back up his throat. "You were talking to Robinkit."
"I didn't actually see him," Yarrowclaw mumbled, putting her head on the nest's edge. "I was so sure he was there, though. Ugh, I just want to hunt! I feel like I'm on fire. I don't like talking this much, I'm not saying anything. But I can't move, so I have to, I have to keep talking so I don't burn away, everything's going too fast. I feel like I'm dying. I don't think I can die."
"You can die, Yarrowclaw," Billowhaze huffed. "You don't have powers, you're not a cleric, you can't perform any rituals. You're just you."
"I want it to stop," Yarrowclaw gulped. "I want to rest, but I'm on fire. I want to bite my pelt off, get it out, but Potterypool stops me."
"And she should, you know," Anchovystrike said. He scooted closer to Yarrowclaw.
"I do," Yarrowclaw whined. "I do know, somewhere. I'm dying. I want it to stop. I want to fix something, anything. Sandhollow wants me to sleep, and I want to sleep so badly, but I can't. Everyone's dying, and I can't stop it." Yarrowclaw's unsheathed claws hooked around her muzzle. Billowhaze moved them off. Currentsmoke stretched until his paw rested on top of Yarrowclaw's.
"I'll 'e here for yuh," Currentsmoke said, trying to purr. "I'll fight with yuh."
"We all will," Anchovystrike promised. He set his nose on Yarrowclaw's head and prayed to Robinkit, to Harvest, to any StarClan soul who wandered around him, that his sister realized that.
(Cobaltchaser: 14, female, codekeeper, righteous, good cook, prey cleaner)
Considering her great teaching skills, Moontide decides to join Thundergale and Shrewpaw as a teacher, further validating Thundergale's ambitious experiment.
[Image ID: Shrewpaw and Thundergale proudly watch Moontide.]
When the mediators visit SlugClan to discuss the issue with Icekit and Pearkit, Nimblestep asks them to at least tell them about their family if they won’t give them back yet. No one... really knows what to say.
[Image ID: Paleseed, Spikecrash, Sandhollow, and Slushtrail speak with Lettucestar and Nimblestep. Slushtrail has juniper berries tucked by her ear. Under her, it reads + ACCESSORY: JUNIPER. Nimblestep says, "Quickkit and I have been learning how to make pottery… she's so good at it. Do Icekit and Pearkit like art?"]
Weevilsight is sorry, but she still isn’t ready for a romantic relationship with Anchovystrike, despite caring for him too. Anchovystrike slinks off, rejected. He goes hunting with Currentsmoke, Billowhaze, and Whitepaw to calm down.
[Image ID: Whitepaw, Billowhaze, Anchovystrike, and Currentsmoke speak in a group. Under Billowhaze, it says - CONDITION: RUNNY NOSE. Under Currentsmoke, it says LEVEL UP! SKILLED TOOLSMITH → INVENTOR AND INNOVATOR. Behind Whitepaw and Billowhaze, a gray and white kit with green eyes approaches, yowling "Clan cats!" Under him, it says NEW PLAYER: DOVEKIT, 4, MALE, IMPULSIVE, ACTIVE IMAGINATION.]
---
"Um, Mr. Anchovystrike?" Whitepaw gulped from the back of the patrol. "I don't want to be rude, but…"
"You're making us all depressed," Billowhaze huffed. "You might be taking this a bit too hard."
The mentor and apprentice weren't wrong. As Anchovystrike led the pair and Currentsmoke toward the heart of the territory to hunt, he couldn't help but let his ears dip and his tail slag. Even the bright bird song and glittering glow of early afternoon couldn't uplift his heart. Anchovystrike knew he'd been through worse, but that didn't stop his chest from hurting and his teeth aching with the tension in his jaw.
"We don't have to call each other mates," Anchovystrike muttered, staring at the grass as he walked. "I just want to take her out of camp sometimes."
"You've been best friends as long as any of us can remember," Currentsmoke purred, rubbing against his brother. "Weevilsight obviously loves you, or at least cares! It'll be alright."
"I have to be blunt here, Anchovy," Billowhaze sighed. He looped around his brothers and stood in front of them, his pelt dappled with the light passing between budding branches. "Do you really expect Weevilsight to be interested in mates right now? Her parents have barely been dead a season." Whitepaw stayed at his mentor's side like the dutiful apprentice he was. With bright green colors breaking through tan grass and colorful flowers peeking out from the bases of old trees, Whitepaw's pelt burned against the land like the pale center of a flame.
"I thought it would take her mind off everything," Anchovystrike mumbled as his ears grew red.
"Give her a little time," Currentsmoke said. "Just being her friend can be enough for now, right?" Anchovystrike let our a mrrow of laughter. Currentsmoke and Billowhaze were right. Of course they were. Anchovystrike was just being a mouse-brain about it all. Whitepaw shuffled his paws, uncertain of his place in the brotherly conversation.
"Maybe we can at least catch some birds for her?" Anchovystrike suggested. "She loves—"
"Clan cats!" Whitepaw jumped at the sudden yowl, back arched high. A figure stomped through the young growth behind Whitepaw and Billowhaze, tail high. The wind finally carried the scent of a young tom to Anchovystrike's nose. Shiny green eyes blended into the blooming foliage. A gray and white face plunged into view. Every muscle in the tom's soft face pointed itself toward the RippleClan patrol. He had no Clan scent, but he was certainly younger than any wandering loner Anchovystrike had met. He was likely still a kit!
"Hello?" Currentsmoke gulped. He blinked wildly, laughing as the gray and white tom marched toward the group with huge pawsteps.
"Greetings!" the kit chirped, shimmering in the dappled light. Anchovystrike snorted at the strange choice of words. "I've come to join the Five Clans! Which one is this?"
"Um…" Anchovystrike snorted, trying to hide his laugh by clearing his throat. "You're in RippleClan, kit."
"I've come to join you as one of your fearsome warriors!" the kit declared. "Take me to your camp!" The four older toms stared at the loner kit. The kit stared back, blissfully unaware of the awkwardness choking the air.
"Alright, let us handle this," Billowhaze muttered to his brothers. He nudged them back with his hind leg. Billowhaze and Whitepaw moved closer to the kit. "Where did you come from, then?"
"Why does that matter?" the kit scoffed. "I'm a RippleClan cat now!" The kit's voice broke as he made his dramatic declaration, sounding more like a weasel than a warrior. Anchovystrike couldn't hide his snort at that.
"What Mr. Billowhaze is asking," Whitepaw quickly said, "is where your mother might be."
"I don't know," the kit chirped with a dismissive flick of an ear. "My humans adopted me ages ago. No idea where Mom is!"
"You're like me," Whitepaw muttered, eyes widening.
"I want to be!" the kit said. "All the Witch Hunters were talking about how big and strong the Clans were. You make a lot of stuff and trade it with the Witch Hunters. You must be really smart! I want to big and smart too! I could be a great warrior! That's way better than sitting in a human's lap all day!" Billowhaze hummed, tilting his head at the proud little kit.
"Well, you heard him," Billowhaze chuckled, glancing back at his brothers. "He could be a great warrior."
"Shouldn't we make sure no one's looking for him?" Currentsmoke asked.
"Who would be looking for me?" the kit asked, mimicking Billowhaze's head tilt.
"If he has a mother looking for him," Billowhaze muttered so the kit couldn't hear, "I'm sure the Witch Hunters will come by the border and ask for him. Besides, we should take him to camp. He's only…" Billowhaze paused, a thought catching his attention. He turned back to the kit and asked, "How old are you?"
"I don't know," the kit said innocently.
"Alright," Billowhaze groaned. "Whitepaw! Do you remember age markers? Can you figure out this kit's age?"
"Um…" Whitepaw said, tail twitching back and forth. "Have you lost any of your teeth, little one? Have they fallen out of your mouth?"
"Yesterday I ate the food my human left out," the kit explained in one breath. "My tooth fell out of my mouth but I just ate it with the rest of my food."
"Well," Whitepaw chuckled, "you still have kitten fur, so… I think you're four moons old."
"Good job," Billowhaze purred. "I agree. It's better to take him back to camp."
"I'm still going to ask Oilstripe if I can lead a patrol to the river," Currentsmoke sighed. "I don't want this to be a repeat of our problem with Nimblestep."
"Can we go hunting?" the kit asked, bouncing around Billowhaze.
"You need to see our leader first," Billowhaze said. He stopped the kit from wandering by placing his paw in front of him. "If you really want to join the Clans, there's a few things you'll need to do. What's your name, anyway?"
"I heard what Clan names sound like," the kit said, jumping onto a small root. "I picked my own! Doveclaw the warrior!" The gray and white kit dropped into a playful battle pose, growling.
"That's a nice name!" Whitepaw chirped as Anchovystrike once again laughed. "You'll have to earn that name, though. When you're young, we would call you something like Dovekit. Then you can become Dovepaw, like how I'm Whitepaw!"
"I can't be Doveclaw?" the kit—soon to be known as Dovekit—huffed.
"With hope," Billowhaze hummed, nudging Dovekit toward the rest of the patrol, "you will some day."
Anchovystrike took the lead back home while Currentsmoke, Whitepaw, and Billowhaze walked along Dovekit, prying him for more information and laughing at the kit's strange arrival. Anchovystrike couldn't stop laughing at Dovekit's random comments and insistence he could become a warrior as soon as he entered camp.
It seemed there would always be something to take Anchovystrike's mind off heartache and frustration.
(Whitepaw: 11, male, historian apprentice, nervous, active imagination)
(Billowhaze: 29, male, historian, loyal, good kit-sitter)
(Currentsmoke: 29, male, cartakr, loving, good climber, inventor and innovator)
(Dovekit: 4, male, kit, impulsive, active imagination)
A skirmish with LynxClan cats stealing crabs leaves Yarrowclaw with a mangled leg and Downstar with a mangled tail.
[Image ID: Yarrowclaw and Downstar face off against a black masked tabby with blue eyes and a scar across their muzzle. Under Downstar, it says + CONDITION: MANGLED TAIL, while under Yarrowclaw, it reads + CONDITION: MANGLED LEG. Oilstripe runs towards them, yowling, "Get off of my leader!" Under her, it says - CONDITION: GRIEVING.]
(Downstar: 153, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)
(Yarrowclaw: 29, female, warrior, cold, fire master)
Washington finally passes from his shipwreck injuries, but at least he died in a safe and loving home. Rabbitjoy decides to retire as a result, but since Downstar is weak, Oilstripe’s the one to give Frostpaw to Ravenweaver for the rest of her training.
[Image ID: Oilstripe watches over Rabbitjoy, Ravenweaver, and Frostpaw. Ravenweaver and Frostpaw face each other, now mentor and apprentice, while Rabbitjoy watches, pleased.]
(Washington: 222, male, elder, nervous, good mediator)
The Clan collectively celebrates Weedfoot as everyone finds a way to move on. Potterypool, Wolfgaze, Currentsmoke, and Yarrowclaw join their littermates in the warrior’s den.
[Image ID: Potterypool, Wolfgaze, Currentsmoke, and Yarrowclaw are adults and graduates. Under Potterypool, it says LEVEL UP! POTTERYPAW → POTTERYPOOL, INSECURE → SNEAKY, LOVES TO SING → GREAT SINGER. Under Wolfgaze, it says LEVEL UP! WOLFPAW → WOLFGAZE, CURIOUS ABOUT STARCLAN → CONNECTION WITH STARCLAN, CONFIDENT WITH WORDS → GOOD SPEAKER. Under Currentsmoke, it says LEVEL UP! CURRENTPAW → CURRENTSMOKE, CONSTANTLY CLIMBING → GOOD CLIMBER, HAS LOTS OF IDEAS → SKILLED TOOLSMITH. Under Yarrowclaw, it says LEVEL UP! YARROWPAW → YARROWCLAW, THOUGHTFUL → COLD, STARES AT FIRE → TALENTED FIRE-STARTER.]
"I'm still awake, I promise," Wolfgaze yelped, blinking wildly and shaking the exhaustion from her thick fur. Thank StarClan she didn't fall over. She'd claimed a spot on the Resting Place immediately after her ceremony, providing a great vantage over the camp. Yet the lulling waves behind her and the empty, clouded sky above were the perfect recipe for a long nap. Weevilpaw stood with her front paws on the log, her entire body standing straight with excitement.
"Downstar said I could fetch you," Weevilpaw chirped. "You made it! Your codekeeper's vigil! How did it feel?"
"Long," Wolfgaze yawned. She stumbled off the Resting Place, licking her lips. "Where are the others?" Potterypool, Currentsmoke, and Yarrowclaw had been sitting outside the camp the last time Wolfgaze looked. Now the entrance was barren, all thorns, brambles, and stones.
"They already fell back into camp," Weevilpaw chuckled. "Currentsmoke was so tired, I thought he would fall on his face!"
"I'm ready to see my graduation gift," Wolfgaze sighed as Weevilpaw rubbed against her. The tortoiseshell cleric helped her sister into camp, laughing as Wolfgaze's eyes drifted shut. With the sun peeking over the sea, Wolfgaze expected the Clan to set out for the day's patrols, but to her surprise, she found most of RippleClan gathered in the center of camp. Downstar sat on the Shiprock, gazing down at the activities below her. Potterypool, Currentsmoke, and Yarrowclaw stood at the edge of the crowd, trying to see what caught their kin's attention.
"What's going on?" Wolfgaze asked, morning clarity clearing her thoughts. She and Weevilpaw joined the newly graduated cats, who were all largely ignored by the rest of the Clan.
"The artisans are doing something," Yarrowclaw explained.
"I think it has something to do with that big chunk of wood they brought in last night," Currentsmoke pointed out. "Remember? Elmsprout and the artisans pulled the sled out and came back to camp with a huge piece!"
"It was a slow night, Currentsmoke," Potterypool hummed, gently nudging her friend. "I think she remembers." Wolfgaze did not, in fact, remember, but she pretended she did.
Wolfgaze braced herself and squeezed between Splashtuft and Wildclaw. She weaved around her Clanmates until she broke into the center of the circle. Mitespark, Elmsprout, Rabbitjoy, and Rattlepelt stood around a wooden sculpture. Ravenpaw sat near them, listening carefully as Rattlepelt explained what they were doing. They picked at the wood with their claws, their teeth, and a few specialized tools; sharp stone picks that could be wrapped around the paw with leather straps, perfect for detailed work on pottery and woodwork. Elmsprout was the first to notice Wolfgaze.
"Wolfgaze!" she called, gently stepping back from the sculpture. "You finished your vigil! Congratulations! Your sisters made your nest in the warrior's den. I'm certain you'll like their gift."
"What are you doing, though?" Wolfgaze asked.
"Oh, that's right, no one told you," Elmsprout gasped softly. "Mitespark, let her see!" Mitespark carefully pulled her carving pick from the wood's surface and moved to the side. It was a bust, a cat's face from the tip of their ears to their collarbone. They were a smooth-faced cat with round features, shaped almost like a triangle sitting on its tip.
"We debated whether to carve in her stripes or paint them," Rabbitjoy explained, "but I think we're going to paint them."
"Is this someone I'm supposed to recognize?" Wolfgaze asked.
"We carved it from memory," Mitespark admitted, "but imagine gray fur and deep blue eyes…"
"James and Scaleripple are making paint for her," Rattlepelt explained. "We told James he could rest and enjoy the finished product, but I guess he wanted to lend a paw for once."
"But why carve Weedfoot?" Wolfgaze asked, glancing at the crowd. "Why is everyone so excited?"
"A Clan's leader and deputy carry all of us on their backs," Rabbitjoy said, brushing against the newly named codekeeper. "They affect all of us, and we all grieve them when they pass. It's a part of our history fading away. The whole camp was up last night sharing memories of Weedfoot, and Paleseed came up with this idea. We're thinking of doing the same for future leaders and deputies after they pass."
"We'll find a place to store them where the paint won't decay," Rattlepelt promised.
"It will be lovely," Wolfgaze purred. A yawn slipped through her words, despite her efforts to hold it back.
"It will still be here when you wake up," Mitespark laughed. "Go to sleep!" Wolfgaze bowed her head, her exhaustion flooding back with Mitespark's simple order. She moved back through the crowd, who passed along a few more congratulations.
"Wolfgaze!" Billowhaze stepped out of the swarm just as Wolfgaze breached the horde. His whiskers twitched in casual mirth. "Anchovy and I are planning abig battle-training session with Estherfern's litter this evening. You should join us! With all the Spirits of Shadow out there, those five could practice against that stare of yours."
"I'm not sure," Wolfgaze gulped, her ears suddenly growing hot under Billowhaze's charming stare. "It might be too dangerous to leave camp just for a training session. With what happened to Silverpaw…" Silverpaw should have been sitting vigil with Wolfgaze that night. Wolfgaze shouldn't have had to spend those long moments wondering what happened to her sister, what Spirit of Shadow pulled her under, never to be seen again.
"That's why training will be good for them," Billowhaze insisted. "We can even bring Weevilpaw along if that makes you feel better. The Spirits of Shadow wouldn't match claws with our three star-blessed warriors, would they?" Billowhaze winked and turned back to Weedfoot's bust, trying to gaze upon the former deputy's face. Even through the chaos of recent moons and the overpowering desire to sleep, Wolfgaze still felt her heart flutter at Billowhaze's stare.
It seemed her life as a codekeeper was off to a good start.
(Weevilpaw: 13, female, cleric apprentice, adventurous, curious about StarClan)
(Wolfgaze: 13, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, good speaker)
(Billowhaze: 13, male, historian, loyal, good kitsitter)
Boughpaw found a forget-me-not flower growing in the frost and decided to keep it.
[Image ID: Boughpaw now wears a forget-me-not flower. Under her, it reads + ACCESSORY: FORGET-ME-NOTS.]
(Boughpaw: 10, female, historian apprentice, righteous, constantly climbing)
While collecting samples of ichor for a banishing ritual with Estherfern, Anchovystrike, and Mosspounce, Foampaw swears she hears Shrewkit crying in the distance. When she and Mosspounce go to investigate, only Mosspounce returns alive with horrified tales of a manykit and a new spirit composed of frost-covered leaves.
Slushtrail knew, as soon as Downstar ordered everyone to stay in camp unless absolutely necessary, Longest Night would truly be a long, long night.
Three torches sat before the main bonfire, separate from the other memorials. A withered dandelion sat in front of the tallest. A silver stone necklace hung from the second. Salt crusted the base of the third, dipped in sea foam. It was a lot like the Longest Night Slushtrail remembered from her kithood. The artisans danced and sang, the historians told stories, the caretakers prepared a late night meal. The fire still roared against the never-ending night, a refusal to bow to the cold and decay. Slushtrail could tell, however, that it hurt some of her Clanmates to keep up the fight. Estherfern ranted to her remaining kits, relaying all she had learned in those last few moons about the Spirits of Shadow and their dangers. Mosspounce laughed a bit too loud at one of Lemmy's comments. Lavendertwist sang just loud enough to hurt Slushtrail's ears. Rattlepelt fought to keep Ravenpaw's attention, trying to demonstrate a special dance. RippleClan was clawing at the edge of a cliff, trying to pull themselves back up, unable to think anything but "it will be okay" when their hearts spoke the opposite.
Honeybuzz brushed his tail against Estherfern's shoulder mid-rant. She paused, and Slushtrail could see Estherfern's breath catch and fog around her. She touched her nose to each of her kits and followed Honeybuzz to the side, where Troutpool and Weevilpaw waited. Slushtrail couldn't hear them, but they sat close and carried torches in their eyes. Best to leave them be for now.
The rest of Slushtrail's family sat in front of the nursery. Tallowheart worked with Oilstripe on an old story; a great war between WheatClan and SlugClan and a friendship that healed their wounds. Carnationspeckle listened closely with Rattlepelt and Wildclaw while Shrewkit hid under Rattlepelt's fox pelt, shivering. With one more look over the rest of the Clan, Slushtrail joined her mothers and siblings.
"How do you like Longest Night, Shrewkit?" Slushtrail asked.
"I don't like the cold," he huffed, pulling his face under the fox pelt. "My mom's probably freezing her flank off tonight."
"I'm sure wherever your birth mother is," Carnationspeckle sighed, lifting the kit's cover away, "she's just happy you're growing up somewhere safe and warm. Can I warm you up?" Shrewkit nodded and crawled closer to his grandmother. Carnationspeckle licked Shrewkit's fur the wrong way, warming his blood.
"So can leaders really give cats whole new names?" Shrewkit asked, turning to Tallowheart and Oilstripe. "Like the warrior in your story?"
"I'm a living example of that!" Wildclaw chirped, gently bunting her son. "Have we told you I used to called Graythroat? Downstar gave me a new name because of how fiercely I defend RippleClan."
"More like because you have a death wish," Oilstripe chuckled. Tallowheart hid a snicker.
"I've outgrown it!" Wildclaw insisted with a laugh.
"Mostly," Rattlepelt hummed, rolling her eyes. Wildclaw batted her mate's muzzle, and Shrewkit laughed.
"Well I never want to lose my name," Shrewkit declared. "My mom named me Shrew, and that's who I'll be, forever. The kit part is extra." When he sat taller, he nearly head-butted Carnationspeckle's jaw into her skull.
(Tallowheart: 14, male, historian, nervous, good swimmer)
Troutpool hopes Trumpetspore notices her.
[Image ID: Troutpool stares at Trumpetspore.]
---
Troutpool stared at Trumpetspore from the medicine den as Trumpetspore and Brightpaw showed Shrewkit how to perform a hunter's crouch. There wasn't a lot of room to practice, since almost everyone was in camp, safe under the divine protection Troutpool and her peers summoned. It was the same protective ritual they performed during Harvest Moon. The clerics could only pray it would guard the Clan long enough for them to strike back against the Spirits of Shadow. Yet despite her chronic fear of them, Trumpetspore proved more confident in Troutpool's rituals than the cream cleric was.
"Keep your flank a little lower," Trumpetspore said, nudging Shrewkit's high flank down. "You're doing well." Troutpool didn't care if others laughed at Trumpetspore's nervousness or groaned at her panic. There was a keen-eyed warrior under that blanket of anxiety; a warrior Troutpool wanted to know more. Troutpool's eyes softened as she watched the black warrior move with such ease between Shrewkit and Brightpaw, eager to train despite the danger.
"You're staring." Troutpool startled a bit. Scaleripple stood outside the den, expressionless. He held a paw to his chest. A large thorn jutted out from his pads.
"I was just marveling at how well Shrewkit's adapted to Clan life," Troutpool stammered with a lick of her chest. "Here, that thorn looks awful, I'll help you get it out." That was obviously why Scaleripple was there, why did Troutpool have to say it like that?
Troutpool led Scaleripple into the shadow of the den. She grabbed a few cobwebs from the shelves (no need to waste a bandage on a simple thorn). She held Scaleripple's paw out and gripped the thorn between her teeth.
"You were staring at Trumpetspore," Scaleripple said right as Troutpool ripped the thorn out of his paw. Scaleripple hissed and licked the fresh flowing blood. Troutpool moved his paw back down and placed cobwebs on the small wound.
"Stay here for a while, and keep your paw off the sand," Troutpool said. "I'll take the cobwebs off soon. A wound that size will close quickly." Troutpool licked a strand of cobweb off her paws. Scaleripple stared at her, barely blinking. Did he want to talk about Trumpetspore? Well, if he did, he could just ask. Troutpool had no reason to be embarrassed by it. "You know Trumpetspore well. If I were to ask her on a date—"
"No," Scaleripple said so suddenly that Troutpool once again startled. They both stared at each other, one confused, the other certain in an unknowable, detached way. No? What did Scaleripple mean by 'no'? He wasn't Trumpetspore's mentor. Troutpool didn't need his permission! She must not have been able to hide her thoughts as well as Scaleripple did, for the gold and white warrior continued. "You told Trumpetspore her littermate was an omen. Why would she be your mate?"
"Scaleripple," Troutpool huffed, finding what little confidence she possessed and hardening her voice. "I only reported StarClan's sign. I didn't want to make Tempestshade's life hard. I revealed it at their trial because I didn't want them to be found guilty of murder."
"Instead you made everyone avoid them," Scaleripple said. He glanced at his bandaged paw with a soft huff. He tore off the red-stained cobweb and spat the wad onto the middle of the floor. "So, no. You don't get to ask Trumpetspore on a date. You don't deserve that." Scaleripple licked his paw once more and walked out of the den. It didn't seem to matter that he left Troutpool spinning, a dormant pressure rising in her chest. No, Scaleripple sauntered back into the packed clearing like nothing had happened.
RippleClan prepares a ritual to fight back against the Spirit hordes.
[Image ID: Troutpool, Honeybuzz, and Weevilpaw stand in a circle around Estherfern. Anchovystrike, Wolfgaze, Oilstripe, and Scaleripple watch from the sides.]
---
In Estherfern's faith, there was her God, who did His best to watch over her home, but there were also the Six Predators. The Wolf, The Fox, The Owl, The Hawk, The Rat, The Cougar. These vengeful, vindictive deities loved to toy with catkind, so Estherfern's home developed a dozen ways to combat their influence. Somewhere in the back of her heart, Estherfern wondered if they were the ones who tormented the souls of the Dark Forest, who gave birth to the Spirits of Shadow. Maybe they were the ones to kill Foampaw. Maybe they were laughing somewhere, saying "Look at Esther. Stepping above her station, making friends with the damned. Shouldn't she have known better? It's so fun to watch her destroy her family."
That night, Estherfern would spit in the faces of the Six Predators, of the Spirits of Shadow, of everything supernatural that roamed her new home, because no one got away with hurting her kits. Not even her.
"Estherfern, we don't have to tell anyone," Honeybuzz whispered as the procession trailed toward the beach. Honeybuzz and Estherfern kept to the back of the group, carrying baskets of supplies. Troutpool walked inside a circle composed of Weevilpaw, Anchovystrike, and Wolfgaze. Oilstripe and Scaleripple kept a sharp eye for strange shadows, ready to fight and protect the untrained clerics.
"What sort of justice would that be?" Estherfern huffed.
"The sort that keeps the peace," Honeybuzz said.
"Peace built on lies is no peace at all," Estherfern sighed. "When this is done… we're telling the Clan. May your ancestors and my God forgive me." Estherfern stared at the clouded sky. If StarClan was as strong as her Clanmates claimed, their presence would not be dulled by simple clouds hiding Silverpelt from view.
As the patrol approached the beach, it began to snow. Flakes danced on Estherfern's nose. Wolfgaze rubbed her fluffy pelt against her sister's thin fur as Weevilpaw shivered. Honeybuzz ran into the thicker circle of cats, quietly begging for extra warmth. Estherfern soaked in the cold. The cold meant she was alive. She was free. It was this freedom she sought to protect ever since she escaped the cat-minded human. Yet in seeing her kits as imprisoned in their bodies, had she not denied them freedom? Whenever she spoke with Wolverinepaw, the long-furred duplicate of Estherfern still stared a bit too hard. Thunderpaw still didn't ask Estherfern to repeat herself if she didn't catch what she said. Brightpaw squirmed in Estherfern's company, and Boughpaw stayed silent, forgotten in her normalcy. The truth would be the only thing that could fix their bonds, even if it destroyed them in the process.
"This is the place," Troutpool finally said. The patrol stood where the river met the ocean, dissolving into branches. Sand melted into mud and clay. A salt pool sat in the sand, the artisan's precious system to separate out the water and harvest the pure white crystals. The sea was nothing more than churning shadow. Estherfern and Honeybuzz set their baskets down.
"StarClan is watching," Oilstripe whispered, head spinning. "There are so many cats. I see Mousesong, and Weedfoot, Silverpaw… Estherfern, Foampaw is here." Estherfern steadied herself. She swallowed the rock in her throat.
"This is for you, Silverpaw!" Wolfgaze called into the dark, still pressed against Weevilpaw.
"They aren't saying anything," Oilstripe said. "I think they're just bearing witness."
"Foampaw, forgive me," Estherfern whispered.
"Oilstripe, Anchovystrike, Wolfgaze, Scaleripple," Honeybuzz said, taking dry mushrooms out of his basket, "you'll patrol around us while we work. Anchovystrike, how do we look?"
"There's ichor everywhere," Anchovystrike groaned, sneering at the sand. "The spirits roam the entire territory."
"It shouldn't be hard to draw them in," Weevilpaw huffed, standing taller. "I'll call out if I predict any of them attacking."
"This will take some time, so stay alert," Honeybuzz said. "Weevilpaw, help me build this side of the circle. Troutpool, Estherfern, take the other half." Estherfern gently grabbed a mouthful of mushrooms, which grew damp in the snow, and started on her side of the circle.
The circle would be far bigger than the one in Estherfern's cursed den. Yes, it was similar to that original circle, composed of the same mushrooms that connected the living world to the Dark Forest. Yet here, the design was not based on those damned traditions, but Estherfern's faith. While the mushrooms formed the curves of the circle, rather than filling the interior with an herbal sludge, Estherfern's basket held a purer replacement; the spirit-rebelling charms from Harvest Moon. In Estherfern's home, the charms would have had the gentle face of God, with tufts of fur representing each of the Six Predators replacing the mushrooms.
"Is this safe?" Scaleripple asked. He sat in the branches of a chokecherry, carefully watching the shore.
"We're summoning Spirits of Shadow and sending them back to the Dark Forest," Weevilpaw scoffed as she set down a few more charms. "There's a lot of risk involved here. But it's what we have to do if we have any hope to get rid of them all."
"I don't mean the spirits," Scaleripple said softly. "These gods that Estherfern fears… are they real?"
"Of course they are," Estherfern snapped, almost knocking a mushroom out of its place. "They may not dwell over your lands, but they dwell over mine."
"What if we summon both the spirits…" Scaleripple said, "and your Predators?" Estherfern's paw clenched over a charm. Was the white-speckled warrior right? Estherfern knew so many tales of the Six Predators and the way they destroyed lives. They did not need to feed, they did not have that excuse for their mayhem. It was fun for them. They spread their domains with no care for each other or any living creature. Was Estherfern repeating her earlier mistakes? Was she, in her effort to fix one problem, inviting something far worse?
"Esther," Honeybuzz said. He met Estherfern's eyes from the other side of the circle. He set the last mushroom in its place. "It's our best option. There are too many." Estherfern nodded. She settled the last of her charms in the circle and turned to Troutpool. The head cleric nodded in return.
"Everyone, stay back, and stay quiet," Troutpool called as Estherfern stepped into the circle. "Honeybuzz, Weevilpaw, are you ready?"
"I'm not a very good singer," Weevilpaw chuckled. She rubbed snow out of her eyes and settled at the edge of the circle.
"You don't have to be," Estherfern said. "Just say the names clearly."
"I've never heard names like these," Troutpool muttered, tucking her tail over her paws.
"You wouldn't have," Estherfern said with a flick of an ear.
Weevilpaw, Honeybuzz, and Troutpool sat equal distance from one another, poised outside the circle. Scaleripple jumped out of the tree and joined Oilstripe. Wolfgaze and Anchovystrike lingered near Weevilpaw. Snow dusted the mushrooms and charms.
"The ichor isn't happy, I can already tell," Anchovystrike muttered. Wolfgaze put her tail to his muzzle.
"Predators of the Great Glowing Lands," Estherfern yowled into the snowy night. "We bind you to this place with your true names!" The four clerics closed their eyes. The song came naturally to Estherfern, embedded into her very being. It wasn't hard to teach it to her compatriots.
Luponthoth
Vulpo Thun
Strigart
But-oro
Rapendazera
Punai'kema
The gentle voices of the clerics rose through the snow in a soft, yet tense melody, like bird song. Estherfern dropped out of the song and opened her eyes. Oilstripe and Anchovystrike's hackles rose, their heads bouncing to sights only they could see.
As Honeybuzz, Troutpool, and Weevilpaw carried on the song, Estherfern yowled, "We know of your appetites! We know of your boredom! This land is filled with wicked spirits! We have formed their path to safety, and they'll think they can escape. Have fun!"
The cleric's song cut off as a violent gush of wind battered their voices, flinging snow into their eyes. Wolfgaze yowled, bracing herself against Anchovystrike. The leaves that decorated Oilstripe's pelt flew off. Estherfern's heart raced as the snow bit her nose. Yet a few moments later, the wind receded. Estherfern breathed deep. Scaleripple shook out his pelt while Honeybuzz shivered. The humming ocean made Estherfern's ears ring.
"Stay where you are," Estherfern warned her companions. Her fur spiked when a sudden realization washed over her. "Anchovystrike, close your eyes."
"Why?" Anchovystrike asked.
"Foxdung!" Weevilpaw suddenly cried, jumping with her back arched. "They're… from the forest! Watch out!"
"Anchovystrike," Estherfern yowled as something tumbled through the trees, "you see the unseen influence of the supernatural. If you see the Predators as they really are, you will go mad! Now close your eyes!" Anchovystrike obeyed just in time.
Terrified howls echoed through the forest. Black sludge dripped from the grass onto the sand. It tumbled faster and faster like a newly formed river, racing toward the circle. Oilstripe and Scaleripple scrambled back as the ichor slammed into the circle. It launched at Estherfern with a steaming, bubbling sound. Estherfern held her ground. The ichor plunged into the sand around her like a fox leaping into snow. It stained the sand black and burrowed deep, deep, deep.
Then the monsters came. They howled and shrieked and cauterwauled, running through the trees as fast as they could. There were darkhounds, thundering along with massive paws and bloody jaws, yipping like pups. There was forsaken prey, decayed and rotten yet moving and squealing just as they did in their final moments. Leatherwaste flopped and flew about, and something new, something without a proper name, some storm-spun bundle of dull brown leaves and glistening frost, slithered toward the circle.
"Stay down!" Weevilpaw yowled, belly dropping to the sand. All except Estherfern mimicked the cleric apprentice. The Spirits of Shadow raced alongside the trail of ichor and into the circle. They dug and clawed at the sand, following their lifeblood back into the depths. But they were the lucky ones.
Estherfern could not see them, but she could see their power unfold. Unseen talons snatched spirits by their backs and flung them into the sky. Eager, invisible jaws snapped and bit into the sticky flesh of the spirits. Something dragged unlucky spirits into the shadows, screaming. They sank into the earth before they reached the circle. They dissolved into steaming piles of ichor with torturous wails.
The world went white. The loudest, strongest clap of thunder Estherfern had ever heard reverberated through her skeleton and stayed singing in her ears. She couldn't see, she couldn't hear. Her skin buzzed. In a moment of clarity tucked within the chaos, Estherfern wondered if this is what her kits felt. A path without sight, without sound, heart pushing out of your chest, is a blessing compared to the fate that awaits the rot.
It took some time for Estherfern's vision to clear. She and her Clanmates were still standing, unharmed. The ichor and spirits were gone. There was no sign they had been there at all, save for a few mushrooms missing from the circle. The other cats groaned, rubbing their ears and eyes. They were alive. The spirits had left RippleClan.
Something drew Estherfern's gaze up. Clear shapes formed within the clouds, backed by a pale glow. Each cloud looked perfectly like its subject; a wolf, a fox, an owl, a hawk, a rat, and a cougar. Where their eyes would have been were balls of lightning, sparking and dancing, glaring down at the Clans in hunger.
The creatures of the glowing sky do not rule this land, but visitors cannot be denied. The stars shall extend their power, and the beasts shall fill their bellies. So it has been for you, so it shall be for all.
"Foampaw?" Estherfern gulped, barely capable of hearing herself.
"Can I open my eyes now?" Anchovystrike gulped. He still had his paws over his face.
"They're gone!" Weevilpaw cried. She ran into the circle and plowed into Estherfern. The old molly looked back to the clouds, but they were now a simple sheet of gray against black. Honeybuzz and Troutpool joined them, pressing against Estherfern.
"Is StarClan still watching over us?" Wolfgaze asked, hopping into the circle.
"They left when the ritual began," Oilstripe stammered, staring across the river, "but they've returned. They're watching from afar. I can't tell what they're thinking."
"They're on our side," Honeybuzz promised, waving the others into the circle. "I petitioned them myself at the last half-moon. We wouldn't have done this if StarClan disapproved."
"They may not have disapproved," Estherfern muttered, "but that does not mean they are proud."
"I think they are!" Troutpool chirped. "It was scary, but we've banished the spirits. We can walk our lands freely again. We wouldn't have saved the Clan without you, Estherfern." Troutpool nuzzled Estherfern, but the old molly still stared at the clouds.
"I don't understand you, StarClan," she whispered, not caring whether the cats pressed into her overheard. "You ask my God to send me here, you stand by while I summon your enemies, you allow me to draw the gaze of something far worse on your descendants. Why?" The stars shall extend their power… the voice in Estherfern's head had been as clear as when Foampaw last stood by Estherfern's side. Was it somehow better for the Clans to attract the attention of the Six Predators? Was it an earnest decision, made for the betterment of the five Clans? Did StarClan desire more power, more control, more souls?
Estherfern sighed. She would find no answers that night. She would be the one providing answers soon enough.
(Estherfern: 112, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)
(Honeybuzz: 26, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)
Although Weevilsight finally recovers from her attack with a scar, Currentsmoke’s infection begins to fester. Currentsmoke starts to lose hope.
[Image ID: Weevilsight looks at Currentsmoke, saying "You won't die while I'm your cleric!" Under Currentsmoke, it says + FESTERING.]
(Weevilsight: 20, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
(Currentsmoke: 20, male, caretaker, loving, good climber, skilled toolsmith)
Determined to see their littermates happy, Weevilsight and Anchovystrike arrange for Wolfgaze and Billowhaze to confess their love to each other.
[Image ID: Weevilsight and Anchovystrike watch Wolfgaze and Billowhaze. Under Wolfgaze, it says + MATE: BILLOWHAZE. Under Billowhaze, it says + MATE: WOLFGAZE.]
---
Anchovystrike had been so absorbed in his morning stretches that he didn't notice Weevilsight approach until she groaned dramatically and flopped belly-up onto the sand. The rest of RippleClan continued with the start of their day, walking around the noisy cleric. Anchovystrike knew he was in for it; Weevilsight hadn't even tucked her fur with petals yet.
"This last moon may have been the worst moon of my life," Weevilsight grumbled. "Ow, ow, sand in my eyes." She rolled onto her belly and rubbed her eyes.
"I feel like we've had worse," Anchovystrike hummed, arching his back down in one last big stretch.
"From a larger perspective?" Weevilsight scoffed. "Sure. But I spent the whole night with Paleseed and Currentsmoke, promising Currentsmoke he'd beat his infection. Not to mention, Yarrowclaw is still completely crashed from her 'day' cycle, to put it mildly. Sandhollow hasn't cleared her for patrols, and I'm going to have to live with these scars the rest of my life. What sort of cleric has battle scars?" Weevilsight hung her tail loosely overhead, showing off the criss-crossing scars that blended with her ginger markings.
"I thought you were fine with your scars," Anchovystrike pointed out.
"I said that to cheer up Currentsmoke," Weevilsight huffed, laying her cheek on the warm sand. "It feels like everything's gone wrong, again. I wish our lives would calm down."
"We're only a year old," Anchovystrike laughed. "We have a lot more moons ahead for things to be calm."
"Well, you're right, last moon was awful," Anchovystrike scoffed, "but things are getting better! Sure, Yarrowclaw could hallucinate again, but I talked with her, she's starting to feel better, even if she isn't there yet. You'll help Currentsmoke, and the scars? They're pretty on you." Anchovystrike wished Weevilsight could see the scars through his eyes; the eternal glow that surrounded her made her scars look like brilliant rivers swirling down to the tip of her tail. To him, scars on a cleric seemed fitting. How else could they relate to their patients?
"That's a nice way to see it," Weevilsight sighed, studying her tail. "There is one issue you haven't solved, though."
"Now I'm curious," Anchovystrike purred.
"Troutpool asked Trumpetspore on a date," Weevilsight whispered, laughing under her breath. "Trumpetspore's rejection hurt so much, Troutpool told everyone she was busy with Currentsmoke and hid in the medicine den."
"That was three days ago!" Anchovystrike laughed.
"She's still too embarrassed!" Weevilsight giggled. As the two friends laughed over Troutpool's misfortune, a different set of laughter graced Anchovystrike's ears. Over by the artisan's storage den, Wolfgaze and Billowhaze sat around a drum, the latter showing the former different ways she could hit the instrument to make different sounds. Wolfgaze's paws limply hit the leather top, much to both cats' delight. Their eyes shone bright as Billowhaze continued guiding Wolfgaze through her lesson.
"So we both know Wolfgaze really likes my brother, right?" Anchovystrike purred when he realized Weevilsight was watching the pair as well.
"Oh I've known for a while," Weevilsight chuckled. "When do you think they'll make it official?"
"Well," Anchovystrike pured, kneading the sand, "we could give them a little encouragement."
"Ooo, you have a plan," Weevilsight purred, standing.
"Take Wolfgaze to the gardens," Anchovystrike explained, bounding up, "and I'll come by later with Billowhaze on a 'hunting patrol.' We'll push them in the right direction, give them some time alone, and one of them is bound to say something!"
"You know what?" Weevilsight laughed. "I could use something good today. I'm in. I'll go get a basket, make it look like official business. Hope you enjoy having Wolfgaze as a sister-in-code!" Weevilsight trotted back toward the medicine den, all her dramatic melancholy vanished.
The plan would work, but in that moment, as Anchovystrike watched Weevilsight walk away, he realized something. There was a glow to Wolfgaze's eyes, something beyond her natural star-blessed shine, whenever she thought about Billowhaze. It was something Anchovystrike had teased her about more than once. But the young warrior realized as Weevilsight slipped back into the medicine den that his eyes glowed as well.
They glowed for Weevilsight.
(Anchovystrike: 20, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)
(Weevilsight: 20, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
(Wolfgaze: 20, female, codekeeper, thoughful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)
(Billowhaze: 20, male, historian, loyal, good kit-sitter)
Spurred by this season of love in the air, Ravenweaver confesses to Brightreed and becomes his mate.
[Image ID: Ravenweaver says to Brightreed "You're strong, and you always try your best… why wouldn't I want a relationship with you?" Under her, it reads + MATE: BRIGHTREED. Under Brightreed, it says + MATE: RAVENWEAVER. In the back, Gingerkit and Frostkit watch in the back, with Gingerkit saying "Bleh!" Under Gingerkit, it reads + NEW SKILL: CURIOUS ABOUT HUMANS. Under Frostkit, it says + NEW SKILL: LOVER OF STORIES.]
(Ravenweaver: 20, female, artisan, nervous, den builder, very clever)
(Brightreed: 17, male, warrior, righteous, student of art)
(Gingerkit: 1, male, kit, charming, curious about humans)
(Frostkit: 1, female, kit, quiet, lover of stories)
Stormjump would spend the whole day with Honeybuzz if she could.
[Image ID: Thundergale and Yellowburst watch Stormjump and Honeybuzz. Yellowburst says, "I bet five sunhigh patrols that I'll be an aunt this time next year."]
(Honeybuzz: 33, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)
(Yellowburst: 16, female, caretaker, adventurous, good mediator)
(Thundergale: 17, female, teacher, adventurous, good hunter, good speaker)
A patrol finds a kit who escaped from his humans. He takes the name Whitekit and is adopted by Rattlepelt and Wildclaw.
[Image ID: Shrewpaw, Wildclaw, and Rattlepelt face a white kit with yellow eyes. Under the kit, it says NEW PLAYER: WHITEKIT, 2, MALE, SKITTISH, ACTIVE IMAGINATION.]
---
"Songs help us remember a lot of information on one topic," Shrewpaw hummed, signing as he spoke, "but if you're trying to memorize something more complex, like a story, you need to repeat it over and over." Thundergale nodded enthusiastically as Shrewpaw's confidence soared.
"That's everything I've come up with when it comes to teaching methods," Thundergale signed, purring. "You're doing so well! You'll be ready to help me guide training sessions as soon as tomorrow!"
"Even though I'm the only apprentice?" Shrewpaw asked, playfully cocking his head.
"Someone always wants help learning something," Thundergale insisted, sitting taller. "We just make it easier. Let's go home. It's been a long day." A long day was right. Thundergale took Shrewpaw out of camp at sunhigh, and it was already dusk! Not that Thundergale's lessons weren't extremely fun, though. It was like she knew just what Shrewpaw needed to understand the subject at paw. It hardly felt like learning when Thundergale was in charge.
Shrewpaw trotted alongside his mentor through the warm yellow undergrowth. The sun burned through the trees, draining the color from the land. It was like drowning in sunlight. It made Shrewpaw's bright red fur look ginger and turned Thundergale a tree-like shade of brown. It was hard to imagine living anywhere else but that gorgous forest along the salt-speckled coast. Shrewpaw danced as the grass turned to sand and the shipwreck sat illuminated against the horizon. Thundergale laughed and copied her apprentice a few paw-steps.
Camp was always busy around dusk, but it was especially noisy as Shrewpaw and Thundergale passed through the entrance. Half the Clan gathered around Paleseed, Vervaincough, and Cobaltchaser, who were in the middle of some long-winded explanation. The other half hovered near the nursery, either shooed away by Wildclaw or placated by Slushtrail.
"Did I miss something interesting again?" Shrewpaw groaned. Wolverineheart caught his moan from the edge of Paleseed's audience and joined Shrewpaw and Thundergale.
"Good training session?" Wolverineheart purred, signing with her tail swaying high.
"Don't ignore the bear in the den, what's going on?" Thundergale asked, finishing her sister's cockiness with a decisive bat to the ears.
"Paleseed, Vervaincough, and Cobaltchaser were coming back from WheatClan," Wolverineheart eagerly explained, "they were busy dealing with that little skirmish Wildclaw got involved in a few days ago. They're just about to cross the border when they see this little white kit, just scratching at the trees! At first they thought it was one of WheatClan's kits, but no! It was a kittypet! Poor little tom, he was really hungry. They took him back to camp and, oh, Shrewpaw, you're going to love it, go see your mothers, they're in the nursery!" Wolverineheart waved Shrewpaw toward the nursery crowd.
"Is he here?" Shrewpaw asked. He peered through the crowd, trying to follow the light that poured into the nursery.
"Go see!" Wolverineheart laughed. She whipped around Shrewpaw and shoved him toward the nursery. Shrewpaw almost face-planted on the sand, but stumbled onward. He squeezed between Mitespark and Trumpetspore and popped up at the nursery entrance.
"Ma?" Shrewpaw asked as Wildclaw spun, ready to snap at another nosy cat. She immediately paused as she recognized her son.
"Shrewpaw, sorry," Wildclaw chuckled, licking her chest. "You spooked me."
"Wolverineheart told me about a kit?" Shrewpaw asked, glancing into the nursery. Elmsprout and Lavendertwist kept Gingerkit and Frostkit busy while Oilstripe and Downstar sat beside Rattlepelt, who relaxed in a nest covered by her fox pelt.
"I'm glad you're back," Wildclaw purred. "Go inside, Rattlepelt and I want to talk to you." Wildclaw turned back to the crowd of curious kitties and yowled, "Alright, I'm a little sick of this Clan's lack of privacy, don't you have patrols to go on?" Wildclaw ushered RippleClan back as Shrewpaw slipped into the nursery. As soon as they saw Shrewpaw, Gingerkit and Frostkit tried to squirm around Elmsprout's grasp, but Lavendertwist sat on his children (much to their displeasure).
"From what I know about humans," Oilstripe purred to someone hidden behind Rattlepelt, "they don't care about a queen and her kits. I'm not surprised this happened to you."
"Hello?" Shrewpaw called. Oilstripe and Downstar looked behind them. Oilstripe scooted to the side, allowing Shrewpaw closer. Shrewpaw carefully sat between the ginger deputy and Rattlepelt.
Sitting in front of Rattlepelt was a long-furred white kitten. His big yellow eyes buldged out of his skull as he dug into a quickly cooked mouse. He was the messiest eater Shrewpaw had ever seen, with meat clinging to his teeth and splattering at his paws. He ate like he had never eaten before, breathing in the mouse.
"Don't choke!" Rattlepelt laughed. The kit jumped at her voice.
"Are you feeling a bit better now?" Downstar asked softly, loafing.
"Yes Ms. Downstar," the kit gulped, swallowing a huge bite.
"I haven't heard anyone use terms like that since Parsley was alive," Rattlepelt purred, the surprise rippling gently down her back. "You must have been born quite a ways south."
"I think so," the kit said. He licked his lips as he eyed the last portion of the mouse.
"Who are you?" Shrewpaw asked the young kit, laughing despite the way the kit's rips pressed against his fur with a deep breath. Wildclaw entered and wrapped herself over Rattlepelt, laying on her mate like her signature fox pelt.
"My mom just called me White," the kit said.
"We can tell him what you told us if you want to finish eating," Oilstripe insisted, placing her paw on White's back.
"Thank you Ms. Oilstripe," White said quickly before plunging his muzzle back into the mouse.
"Apparently, Shrewpaw," Oilstripe sighed, leaning down to her grandson, "White and his litter were taken from their mother just as they finished weaning. He's not much older than two moons."
"That's too young, though!" Shrewpaw whined. "Thundergale says most kits share a nest with their mother until they're three moons old at least!" Shrewpaw didn't want to imagine what it would have been like to not share a nest with Wildclaw or Rattlepelt at White's age.
"Some humans don't care what a kit needs," Oilstripe sighed. "They can be cruel. These ones took White from his mother and traveled in a monster, all the way to the southern farms. White left as soon as he could, but he hasn't found his mother."
"If they live really far south—" Shrewpaw started, but Rattlepelt gently batted his muzzle. Oh. If White's mother was as far south as Rattlepelt implied, it seemed next to impossible for anyone to find her, let along a kit who clearly didn't know how to hunt properly.
"While we're looking for her," Downstar said, clearing her throat, "we've offered White a home with us. Your mothers, Shrewpaw, have offered to foster him." Foster…
Shrewpaw barely remembered his littermates. He could remember squirming forms writhing alongside him against a ginger belly. Yet those forms faded, one by one, until Shrewpaw's first clear memory settled in his eyes; tucked deep into a pile with Rattlepelt, Wildclaw, Oilstripe, Carnationspeckle, and Downstar. What was having a brother like?
"It took you a while to understand what happened with your mother," Rattlepelt whispered to Shrewpaw. "We don't want to overwhelm White right now. We'll ask around about his mother, but you already know the chance of finding her is slim." Shrewpaw crept up to White as he finally finished his mouse. He licked the last of the meat off his fangs as Shrewpaw sat next to him.
"When I joined RippleClan," Shrewpaw said, trying to ignore the gushing looks of his mothers, "they added onto my name. I was born Shrew, then they named me Shrewkit, and now I'm Shrewpaw. If you're staying with us, you can have a name like that too! We can call you Whitekit."
"Why would I change my name?" White muttered.
"Well, do you want to know a secret?" Shrewpaw whispered. White cocked his head. "I still call myself Shrew sometimes. The Clans have some weird names, but if you pick a name for yourself, no one can take it from you." White grew taller with Shrewpaw's wise words.
"You can call me Whitekit if you want," said the young tom.
"Good to know!" Shrewpaw laughed, bunting Whitekit's shoulder. Whitekit nearly fell over, but laughed along while Shrewpaw wrapped his tail over Whitekit. "Now, what do you think of having an older brother?"
(Shrewpaw: 9, male, teacher apprentice, competitive, never sits still)
(Thundergale: 17, female, teacher, adventurous, good hunter, good speaker)
(Wolverineheart: 17, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)
(Wildclaw: 77, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)
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With soup for getting food and water to Currentsmoke’s stomach and ointment to fight the infection growing in his jaw, Troutpool wracks her mind for anything else that might help her patient. At least Yellowburst’s yellowcough is gone.
[Image ID: Troutpool treats Currentsmoke with Robinkit's ghost standing behind the latter. Under Troutpool, it reads LEVEL UP! GHOST SENSE → GHOST SIGHT. Under Currentsmoke, it reads + INFECTION. Yellowburst walks away, with - CONDITION: YELLOWCOUGH under her.]
"I know it stings," Troutpool cooed as she rubbed ointment along Currentsmoke's fracture, "but this will help kill the infection." Currentsmoke whined softly, but did not speak. There wasn't much he could say clearly; ever since Yarrowclaw carried him into camp after the accident, the clerics kept his muzzle wrapped in bandages and soft leather, preventing it from moving. Currentsmoke had to keep his mouth still if he didn't want to live with a crooked jaw the rest of his life.
Troutpool should have been able to prevent the infection. Currentsmoke hardly left the medicine den, had never thought of leaving camp. Troutpool and her denmates groomed the large gash across his face well, they kept track of what treatments they gave him. How did he develop an infection? What did Troutpool do wrong?
Pawsteps trapsed through the sand outside just as Troutpool smeared the last of the infection-kiling ointment. Yellowburst entered the otherwise empty den, carefully carrying a bowl of soup. Steam gently flew off the broth's glistening surface.
"I strained the solid bits out, just like you asked," Yellowburst said, placing the bowl in front of Currentsmoke's nest.
"You're wonderful, Yellowburst," Troutpool purred. She rubbed the remaining ointment on her paws off onto a scrap of leather. "When you're finished with your meal, can you ask my mother which caretakers are free? I have a bundle of bandages and leather that need washed."
"I'll pass it along," Yellowburst promised. "Are you feeling any better, Currentsmoke?"
"I guess that's all we can ask for," Yellowburst chuckled awkwardly. "I'll see if Sandhollow would tell you any stories to pass the time later. Stay strong!" Yellowburst gently touched Currentsmoke's forehead and retreated from the den.
"Let me know when you're ready to eat," Troutpool sighed, placing her ointment back on the den's vast shelves. "I know it hurts, but if I help you open your mouth, we can make sure you don't make things worse." The fur on Troutpool's neck tingled. She paused, tail rising. She recognized that feeling, the sort that had lingered since her first days as a cleric, that eery sign of StarClan at work. She felt it at the ritual to weaken the Spirits of Shadow, she felt it when Oilstripe spoke to ghosts of friends passed, and she felt it every time she visited StarClan's Shrine. This time was different, though. This time, Troutpool heard a voice.
"I'll try to lower your pain, Current," the newcomer said. "Mom and I will get you through this, whatever happens." Troutpool turned slowly. A sparkling figure stood behind Currentsmoke, the spirit's transparent tail dancing over Currentsmoke's flank. He was dark red, with deep blue eyes and a splash of white wrapping around his chest and back. Troutpool recognized him. She would never forget the face of a kit she couldn't save.
"Robinkit?" Troutpool muttered. Robinkit jumped, attention wrenched away from Currentsmoke.
"How do you see me?" Robinkit yelped. "You're not supposed to see me!"
"I'm sorry?" Troutpool gulped, thoughts spinning.
"Saah-ry fah what?" Currentsmoke sighed with a slow, soft shake of his head. "Yah're doehng great."
"Oh, no," Troutpool stammered, shaking out her pelt, "sorry, Currentsmoke, I wasn't talking to you, I… I'll be back soon." Troutpool scurried out of the medicine den, fur burning. The camp was packed for the mid-day meal, basking in the late spring haze. Troutpool kept her eyes down, trying to look as sane as possible.
"You can see me!" Robinkit ran after Troutpool with silent paws. "I'm supposed to be invisible!"
"Don't look at me!" Troutpool hissed under her breath, sparing a quick glance back at her ghostly pursuer. "I'm not trying to disturb you!"
Near the entrance of camp, not far from the apprentice's den, Oilstripe sat alone, sunbathing. Except Troutpool realized her mother wasn't alone. Two ghosts Troutpool did not recognize sat around Oilstripe. One was a brown tabby who spoke animatedly, tail and paws flying about. The other was a light brown kit who laid on their back, watching the other ghost upside-down.
"So I tell Silverpaw, being dead isn't so bad!" the brown tabby chuckled. "you can fly now! And never aging, that's going to feel great!"
"Says the adult ghost," the kit scoffed. Oilstripe chuckled, hiding her humor under her paw.
"Mom," Troutpool called, unable to smooth her pelt. Oilstripe quickly picked up on her daughter's fear scent.
"What's wrong?" Oilstripe asked, hurrying up. "Is it Currentsmoke?"
"No, it's me," Troutpool whispered, trying and failing to ground her thoughts. "Mom, do you, um… please tell me you see Robinkit behind me."
"Hi, Oilstripe," Robinkit sighed. Troutpool closed her eyes and prayed the kit's ghost would go away. This wasn't how clerics communicated with StarClan. It bypassed all the rules Fennelspot taught her, invaded their divine privacy. How could Troutpool respect the traditions of her profession if she saw ghosts?
"Do you see Robinkit?" Oilstripe asked.
"Better question, do you see me?" the brown tabby huffed. Troutpool risked opening one eye. The brown tabby ghost stared at her with giant eyes. They gasped dramatically and cried, "She looked at me, she looked at me!" Troutpool shut her eyes again.
"Troutpool, you're alright," Oilstripe promised. "I see them."
"I'm not supposed to," Troutpool gulped. "I have to respect them. I can't go around the rules."
"Do you think I'm doing something wrong?" Oilstripe scoffed. She gently groomed her daughter's cheek. "Because if you think you're disobeying the code, then I must be. Call the codekeepers, put me on trial." Troutpool risked another look at the brown tabby. Their face was soft, free of judgment or divine wrath.
"I'm Applepelt," the brown tabby said with a friendly twitch of her whiskers. "I'm a friend of your mother's. And I don't think you're disrespecting anyone just by seeing us."
"But how do you see us?" the unknown kit huffed, pacing around Troutpool.
"Twinekit raises a good point," Oilstripe muttered. "If anyone were to inherit my sight, I would have expected Tallowheart or Slushtrail, but Carnationspeckle gave birth to me."
"Does that make you less of a mother?" Applepelt scoffed, slipping beside Troutpool and Oilstripe. Her transparent paw batted Oilstripe's head, but it phased through as though going through air. Oilstripe still flinched, unable to fight back a purr. "If this is something the All-Seeing did, do you think they would care about blood? We aren't talking about pelt patterns."
"It's still important that I respect your work when you visit us," Troutpool gulped, giving Applepelt some room. "I'm afraid I interuppted…" Troutpool looked back to where Robinkit had been, but the dead kit was gone.
"You'll get used to that," Oilstripe promised, nuzzling her daughter's neck. Troutpool sighed, relaxing into Oilstripe.
"Now, if you're finished panicking," Applepelt chuckled, splaying their paws about wildly as they fell on their belly, "I can tell you some of the embarassing things your mother got up to when she was younger."
"You can't embarass me," Oilstripe said, eyes narrowing in a challenge. Applepelt stared at Oilstripe like a victorious hunter.
"Does the phrase 'holy balls' mean anything to you?" Applepelt cooed. Troutpool choked on a laugh.
"You weren't even here for that!" Oilstripe gasped, swatting at Applepelt's ghost. "How do you know about that?"
"StarClan sees all," Applepelt said in a wobbley, dramatic voice. This time, Troutpool set her laughter (and her insecurities) free.
Yarrowclaw stays out all day and brings back one piece of fresh-kill for each main prey species in the territory. Even though Rabbitjoy notes that they may not be able to work through all that prey before it rots, Yarrowclaw insists the hunt was an important ritual to safeguard the Clan.
[Image ID: Rabbitjoy, Halibutdusk, and Elmsprout stare at Yarrowclaw, who yowls "Eat, eat!"]
After moons on the brink, Currentsmoke finally recovers, forever bearing a scar. He celebrates with his littermates at Harvest Moon.
[Image ID: Billowhaze, Anchovystrike, and Yarrowclaw stand around Currentsmoke, who sports a large scar across his cheek. Under him, it reads - INFECTION, - FESTING, - CONDITION: BROKEN JAW.]
(Currentsmoke: 22, male, caretaker, loving, good climber, skilled toolsmith)
(Billowhaze: 22, male, historian, loyal, good kit-sitter)
(Anchovystrike: 22, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)
Shrewpaw has his teacher’s assessment; teach all of his interested Clan members about Clan-sign. When Potterypool notes that it would be hard to make signs while moving, Shrewpaw proves her wrong… but faceplants onto a pile of rocks in the process.
[Image ID: Potterypool, Lightningrunner, Wolfgaze, Puddlewhisper, and Elmsprout face Shrewpaw for their lesson. Under Elmsprout, it says - CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH. Under Shrewpaw, it says + CONDITION: BRUISES.]
(Shrewpaw: 11, male, teacher apprentice, competitive, never sits still)
(Potterypool: 22, female, caretaker, sneaky, great singer)
The next update is taking a bit, so musings on Clan life, circa Moon 87:
Currentsmoke’s jaw healed straight, but the muscles themselves are weaker. It takes more force in his bite for him to kill prey, and sometimes chewing/moving his jaw for a while makes it ache the rest of the day.
Meanwhile, Yarrowclaw has mixed opinions on her day-night cycling. She’s proud of how focused and determined she feels in her day cycle, but is terrified of another psychotic episode terrorizing her friends and family. Mainly, though, the problem has been other cats acting like the feelings police and getting worried whenever she gets really energized, day cycle or not.
There isn’t much distinction between stages of a romantic relationship in Clan culture (a possible future lore post), but in terms of seriousness and family bonding, Ravenweaver and Brightreed are closer mates than Wolfgaze and Billowhaze.
While Darkkick and Spikecrash don’t really have a mother-daughter relationship, they’ve found their own protective instincts toward one another and have grown closer!
Whitekit still uses distant southern dialect with Mr and Ms because he noticed when he talked like that, a lot of the older cats seemed really happy. The Clan still misses Parsley.
Speaking of Parsley, she is the Celestial of RippleClan Loners, acting as a guiding force for loners who join RippleClan. She has special interest in older cats who join, such as Estherfern.
Each Clan can directly channel a spirit of StarClan through official rituals and paths about once a year due to the amount of energy StarClan actually has; since RippleClan used their early summoning almost as soon as the year began in contacting Splintcarve, Celestial of Broken Bones, the other clerics teased Estherfern and Weevilsight for that so much that Troutpool uncharacteristically snapped at them.
Slushtrail has to defuse a lot of arguments between Gingerkit and Frostkit.
Shrewpaw got into a lot of trouble during the Moon 86 Gathering because he snuck off with SlugClan apprentices to one of their “smoke-dens” where they burn herbs like catmint and valerian to get high.
