#dragon anon

MOON 4

Canarywish awoke to the soft sound of rain rattling against glass, enveloped in the warm safety of Moorthistle’s milky scent. Canarywish felt the soft rasp of her mother’s tongue against the top of her head, a gentle purr rumbling in the older molly’s chest. Canarywish let out a tiny sigh. It had been so long since she’d been like this, tucked against her mother’s coat and blind to the world’s dangers. Littleleaf would have been there too, whispering a bedtime story with the rain as ambience. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” a raspy voice murmured, so close to Canarywish’s ear that she instinctually flinched. She could no longer feel her mother’s warmth, her scent fading. Canarywish scrambled to her paws, swinging around to face the elderly molly who’d been grooming her fur. “Sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Bess blinked slowly at Canarywish, round eyes filled with compassion. 

“Why were you so close to me?” Canarywish swallowed, throat feeling dry. 

“You were calling out in your sleep again,” Bess murmured. “You looked cold, too. Y’know, my nest really is big enough for two. When my kits were wee things they’d all pile in there with me.” Bess chuckled, lazily rolling to her paws. 

Canarywish hummed noncommittally, glancing towards the ice wall (“Window,” Bess had told her.) situated far above the plush nests the twolegs had created for Bess and Bess’ “temporary guests.” According to Bess, her twolegs often brought in strange cats, but only for a few moons at a time. Then, they’d go to their “forever homes,” or so Bess said. Bess’ forever home, she had proudly declared, was this very twoleg den. From her position, Canarywish could see that the rain wasn’t a figment of her latent dreaming. The rain was growing rather insistent, tapping frantically at the window like an unwanted guest begging to be let inside. It felt strange, not having to dread waking up early for patrols and knowing she’d get her paws wet. The sound of rain against stone soothed her, but the way the rain pressed down against her pelt felt suffocating. 

“Come on, now,” Bess purred sweetly. There was a merriment in the old molly that reminded Canarywish of Moorthistle in a heart-aching way. “Let’s get some breakfast in you. The housefolk picked up the good stuff: salmon meuniere! Well, not really, but the flavor’s the same. Canarywish parted her mouth, tasting the air. The mushy, wet stuff the twolegs gave them in lieu of freshkill looked utterly unappetizing, but the smell was admittedly tantalizing. The stuff tasted pretty good, too. Almost like real fish. 

“Okay,” Canarywish replied belatedly. “Let’s eat.”

MOON ???

“Mama, look what uncle Ravenstar caught! Isn’t it huge?” Canarykit squeaked, staring at the limp trout in awe. Ravenstar had presented the giant catch to her, gaze sparkling with amusement. 

“I caught this just for you,” Ravenstar replied softly. His voice was like the way water brushes against a rocky riverbank. The sound was utterly disarming. 

“Really? Mama, can I try it?”

“I don’t know,” Moorthistle was eyeing the trout uncertainly. “She’s a bit young for freshkill, Ravenstar.” Littleleaf murmured in agreement. 

“Sorry, bug. You’ll be big enough to be catching your own fish in no time, I promise.” As he spoke, Littleleaf gave Canarykit a few reassuring licks on the top of her head. 

Canarykit sighed dramatically. “I bet I’ll never catch a fish that big. How did you do it, Ravenstar?”

Ravenstar smiled. “Don’t worry, Canarykit. One day, I’ll show you.”

MOON 6

“Are you sure you have to go?” Bess fretted, weaving around Canarywish again and again. “It’s getting so cold out; you’ll freeze your little paws off! Why don’t you stay till it’s warm out again?”

“I can’t.” Canarywish hesitated. After the first few moons, Canarywish had started to let the twolegs brush her pelt. Now, her fur was clean and sleek. She felt strong and well-fed from the food and treats they’d given her. It was easy to see why some cats enjoyed the life of a kittypet. But not all twolegs were this kind. If Bess was right, these twolegs were going to hand her off to different twolegs soon. Canarywish remembered well the stories Ember would sometimes tell if she was feeling melancholy. Most of their clanmates murmured in pity, rubbing against Ember and telling her she didn’t have to be lonely anymore. Canarywish felt a different kind of pain for Ember, knowing their sorrow was a shared one. But while Ember had been alone in both body and mind, Canarywish was surrounded by clanmates, yet some days she still felt as isolated as a lynx wandering the endless tundra. 

“Well, why not?” Bess implored. “You said your family’s mighty big. If they’re so large, they’ll surely have sent out cats to find you. You should wait till they show up for you. Then they can take you home.”

“I-” Canarywish hesitated. Bess’ explanation made sense, but it had been six moons. Where were Canarywish’s clanmates? “I need to leave, Bess. My clanmates don’t know where I am. They can’t find me here.”

Bess sighed. “Oh, honey, I understand. Just please, eat before you go, and be careful.” Canarywish blinked slowly, nodding. “You can escape when the housefolk are comin’ in from the porch. They’ve got other housefolk over, so they’ll leave the door open long enough for you to make a run for it.”

“Thank you, Bess.” 

“It’s nothing, sweetheart. I hope you find your family.”

MOON ???

“You know, when I was a kit, I was scared of thunderstorms too.”

“Really?” Canarykit peered at Littleleaf with wide eyes, her tiny form trembling. 

“Mhm.” Littleleaf wrapped his paws tighter around Canarykit, pressing her close to his chest. Pressing her ear to his fur, Canarykit could feel the soft rhythm of his heartbeat, almost drowning out the occasional burst of thunderous noise. “My mama would sing to me when it stormed. Her voice was so soft, I’d have to strain to hear above the noise, but it’d always help me fall asleep.”

“What about Ravenstar? Was he scared?” Canarykit whispered.

“I don’t think so.” Littleleaf paused. “He didn’t have any problem sleeping through the storms, but if he noticed I was still up, he’d always wake our mama so she could sing.”

“Do you know how to sing?” Canarykit asked, flinching at another crack of thunder. 

“Only a little bit, but I’ll sing for you. Just listen close…”

MOON 8

Canarywish had never been truly alone before, but she understood the feeling. Her pelt, her whiskers, her toes—they were never alone, always surrounded by clanmates and family. It was her heart that remained isolated. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t know when the sorrow had crept in. Maybe during her apprenticeship, or maybe it had always been there. It was Mossfrog who she’d turned to during her darkest moments. Mossfrog understood what Canarywish was feeling. Canarywish wished desperately that Mossfrog were here now, so that Canarywish could just exist in her presence, knowing someone understood. 

Occasionally, Canarywish saw other cats as she wandered the seemingly endless twolegplace, but mostly they ignored her. Occasionally, some kittypet would ask her if she was all right, if she knew where she was headed, if she could use some help. She’d always ask if they knew how to get to the mountains, but the confusion evident on their faces was the only answer Canarywish ever got. 

She had been wandering for nearly two moons now and still had yet to find her way out of the maze of twoleg dens. It had been difficult to readjust to hunting after moons of eating kittypet food, but she was managing just fine on the surplus of rodents hiding between the dens. 

She was crouched beneath a sleeping monster, stalking towards a rat nibbling on twoleg rubbish when a scrawny tom burst forth from the weedy grass. The rat squeaked in alarm, disappearnig into a hole in the wall of the twoleg den nearest to the rubbish bin. “Perkele!” the tom wheezed. Canarywish could see his ribcage from where she was crouched and a jolt of alarm hit her. Fallenclan would never let an elder starve. Fallenclan would never let anyone starve, for that matter.

“Hello?” Canarywish mrrowed, slinking out from beneath the monster. The tom whirled on her, ears flattening. His gaze was suspicious, eyes glinting in the dull afternoon light. 

“Who are you?” the tom grumbled. “Haven’t seen you around before.”

“My name is Canarywish. Do you need help?” 

“Ha! Ei. Leave me alone. You cannot help me.” The tom turned away from Canarywish, flicking his tail in a clear dismissal. Canarywish hesitated. She couldn’t just leave him to starve. It wasn’t right. Mutely, she slipped past the tom, ears pricked. Birdsong could be heard all over the twolegplace, but many of the wandering kittypets lacked the discipline or desire to chase after them. Weaving through the tall grasses surrounding the twoleg den the rat had disappeared into, Canarywish came upon an oak tree. She could hear finches singing to each other, arguing or flirting, she couldn’t tell. 

Canarywish stilled, waiting. The twolegs often scattered little seeds for the birds to eat, even filling strange containers with them. It was only a matter of time before a bird came within reach. After several minutes of waiting, a finch finally fluttered down to snatch a few seeds off the ground. In an instant, Canarywish pounced, her paws slamming expertly into the bird’s back. Her claws hooked into its flesh, snapping the bird’s spine while its companions chittered frantically above her. Canarywish hadn’t eaten since the previous day, but despite her rumbling stomach she refrained from tearing into the finch. Instead, she turned, startling briefly when she realized the elderly tom had followed her. His pointed gaze was resting on the bird clamped in her jaws. She dropped the finch and nudged it towards the tom. “Here. I can always catch something else for myself.”

“Hm.” The tom snatched the finch, inspecting it warily. “Harley.”

“What?” 

“My name is Harley,” the tom huffed. “And you are a very good hunter.”

MOON ???

“Please, please, stay with me!” Canarypaw wailed. The pale grey tom had grown still, legs spasming for a final time. His gaze grew vacant, sliding past Canarypaw towards some unknown point beyond her head. 

“Let’s go, Canarypaw,” Ravenstar’s cool tone split the air fraught with Canarypaw’s panicked breaths. “You can’t save them all.”

“If–if there was a medicine cat, maybe-”

“No, Canarypaw. I warned you when we first saw him. His injuries were too severe. You made an effort, which is admirable but ultimately pointless.” A pause. “It’s time to go.”

The walk back to camp was silent.

MOON 9

“Where did you receive that injury?” Harley mumbled around a mouthful of squirrel. Canarywish grimaced.

“Some cat attacked me.”

“Describe.”

“Reddish-brown fur, amber eyes.” Canarywish wrinkled her nose. “He jumped me while I was heading back, but the moment I scratched his muzzle he started wailing about how he was ‘just playing.’”

“That is Louis,” Harley replied. “Stupid kit. The injury does not look severe.” He took another slow bite of squirrel, and Canarywish hummed thoughtfully. She had a tiny cut on her left flank now, but the bleeding had long since stopped. She would barely count the scratch as a wound. It isn’t something she would have bothered a medicine cat with, anyway. 

“You seem to know all of the cats here pretty well.” Canarywish wanted to add, So why are none of them helping you? She refrained. 

“Yes,” Harley licked a fleck of squirrel blood off his muzzle. “I was a house cat. My humans declawed me. You have noticed this by now.” Canarywish nodded. “That was not so bad, until I got sick. Then, they threw me out. The other house cats, idiots, did not want a sick cat sharing their food bowl.”

“That’s awful,” Canarywish replied, ears flattening. “What about now? You aren’t sick anymore, right?”

Harley scoffed. “You have showed me how to hunt with no claws. I do not need any more humans who will only abandon me again.” Despite the tom’s indifferent expression, Canarywish thought she could detect a note of sadness in his voice. 

“My clan wouldn’t abandon you.”

“You have said.” Harley waved a paw. “We are almost to the edge of the human-place. Your mountain is beyond the tall woods. You will be home soon and I will return to my peaceful solitude.” Without another word, Harley nudged the remaining chunk of squirrel towards Canarywish, then wrapped himself into a ball, tail covering his nose. 

MOON 10

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with?”

“I am sure,” Harley responded briskly. “It is better for me to be alone, I think.” Canarywish opened her mouth to reply, but Harley didn’t wait for her to speak, instead disappearing back into the maze of twoleg dens. Canarywish waited at the edge of the woods to see if he’d come back, but after a few minutes of silence she decided to move on. She felt an errant tug of guilt, as if she were the one condemning Harley to his solitude. Should she have tried harder to convince him? No. It was his choice to stay behind.

As she began her trek through the seemingly endless forest, Canarywish was alone once more. 

MOON ???

“Canarywish! Frozenfog! Canarywish! Frozenfog!” Cheers rang throughout the camp, celebrating the two young warriors. Frozenfog held her head high, ears pricked forward and gaze gleaming. Canarywish attempted to smile, she really did, but she couldn’t help but feel like an imposter. 

She didn’t deserve to be celebrated alongside Frozenfog. Canarywish hadn’t earned warriorhood. When she looked down at her paws, it was almost like she could still see the way her soft fur had been dried reddish brown with blood. “Congratulations!” Moorthistle purred, weaving around Canarywish. Littleleaf pressed his nose to Canarywish’s cheek, purring softly. 

“Mama and Ravenstar both graduated early too,” Blossomfur commented. “Must mean you’re destined ot do great things, huh?” Beside her, Cloudtuft shifted uncomfortably. Ficklefern and Finchbeak lurked nearby as well, silently lending their support. Mossfrog emerged from a throng of their clanmates, gaze light with pride. 

It didn’t make sense. Canarywish was surrounded by so many loving, supportive cats. So why did she still feel so alone?

MOON 12

If she kept walking, Canarywish was beginning to fear that her paws would fall off. There had indeed been a mountain beyond the forest, just as Harley had promised, but it wasn’t her mountain. Canarywish could see more mountains in the distance, so she had continued her journey, even with dismay gnawing at her heart. How far had the twolegs taken her? It had been difficult to tell, trapped in a large monster with her clanmates’ panicked yowling. 

Canarywish could feel a storm stirring in the sky, the rain was taking its time tumbling through the leaves before splashing against her pelt. It was awhile before she finally found a decent resting place, spotting an abandoned warren. She could see that someone, a fox maybe, had scraped apart the entrance to make it larger. Regardless, even if a fox had been hunting rabbits, the den would be unsuitable for permanent residence.

Slipping inside, Canarywish had to fight to wriggle through the entrance tunnel, but after one final shove she was inside the warren’s main den cavity. The den was dark, its loamy earth smell flooding Canarywish’s nostrils. The scent was distinct from Fallenclan’s camp, but still familiar enough to offer comfort. Shaking off her pelt, Canarywish pressed herself against one of the den’s far walls, curling herself into a ball to wait out the storm. Her eyes were nearly shut when movement flickered at the edge of her vision. 

Immediately tensing, Canarywish lifted her head, straining to see through the darkness. Her claws slid into the dirt, shoulders bunching in anticipation of a potential threat. Then—“Boo!” Canarywish flinched, gaze locking onto a small, trembling figure. “Ha! I scared you so bad!” It took Canarywish a moment to realize the figure was trembling with laughter. She leaned forward, meeting the hazel-green eyes of a kit. His pelt was fully black, blending in near perfectly in the darkness. He couldn’t have been older than three moons.

“Hello,” Canarywish murmured hesitantly. “Are you… alone?” She couldn’t pick up the scent of any other cats in the den, but she had missed the presence of this kit, so it was possible there were other hidden figures. 

“Well, I was, but now you’re here, so of course I’m not alone,” the kit chirped. “Mama’s out hunting, so I’m waiting for her to come back.” The kit paused. “Mama said I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” His gaze darted towards the den’s entrance.

“If we tell each other our names, then we won’t be strangers anymore,” Canarywish replied. Thinking of Cloudtuft, left all alone in the mountains as a kit, Canarywish felt a jolt of dread. How long had this kit been waiting for his mother? “I’m Canarywish.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Wish,” the kit replied. Canarywish thought she could see his whiskers twitching with amusement. “My name’s Skipper.”

“It’s awfully cold in here, Skipper. Why don’t you sleep next to me, and if your mama isn’t back in the morning, we’ll go and find her.” Skipper hesitated for a few moments, then slowly padded over to Canarywish, pressing his pelt against hers and curling up into a little ball.

“Okay, but you have to tell Mama you aren’t a stranger or else she’ll get mad at me.” Canarywish hummed in agreement, wrapping her tail around the kit and resting her chin near his head. In the morning, she would figure out what to do with him.

***

Canarywish awoke to the sharp pinprick of claws in her shoulders. She had no time to react as she was forcefully dragged from her sleeping position, roughly shoved into the center of the den. Frantically, Canarywish tried to shove to her paws but she was slammed back into the ground, pinned beneath a black-furred molly who glared at her with fierce, hazel eyes. “Who are you?” the molly hissed, ears pinned. Her claws were still hooked into Canarywish’s shoulders, not quite drawing blood but still poking at her skin. Her long fur was some protection, but Canarywish’s heart was still pounding.

“Mama!” Skipper’s whined, and Canarywish could hear what she assumed to be the stomping of his tiny paws. “I told you, she’s not a stranger!”

“We don’t know her,” the molly, Skipper’s mother, snapped in response. “Stay over there, Skip.” She continued to glare at Canarywish. “Why were you with my son? Did Thistle send you? Did he tell you to steal my kit?”

“I—what? No,” Canarywish blinked rapidly, swallowing. “I was looking for shelter from the storm and found him alone in this den. I thought, maybe–”

“You thought what? That I abandoned him?” the molly growled. 

“I just wanted to make sure he was safe,” Canarywish protested. The molly scoffed, but slowly loosened her grip on Canarywish. After a few tense moments, the molly stepped back. 

“Fine.” She turned towards Skipper. “Eat your breakfast, honey.”

“Mama,” Skipper complained. “You didn’t have to attack her.” Sulking, he pawed at a limp ground squirrel that was presumably meant to be his breakfast. “Can we at least share prey with her?” 

With her eyes adjusting, Canarywish could see that Skipper’s mother had white paws, but otherwise she was nearly identical to him. “No.”

“Please?”

“Skipper-”

“It’s okay,” Canarywish interjected, giving her chest a few disgruntled licks. “I can catch my own prey. My name is Canarywish, by the way.”

“What? What kind of name is that?” The molly grumbled.

“Canary is a normal name,” Skipper protested. 

“Wish isn’t a family name,” his mother argued, tail flicking.

“No,” Canarywish said. “Canarywish is my full name. I don’t have a ‘family name.’”

“Oh.” Skipper blinked. “That is a weird name!” He started giggling again but after one stern look from his mother, he diligently began to tear chunks from the squirrel, eating them in quick, ravenous bites. 

“Where are you from?” His mother asked, her demeanor guarded but distinctly less hostile than before.

“My family lives in the mountains. There’s a waterfall and a river that splits in two. Several large settlements of cats live around there. Do you know where that might be?”

“Maybe,” the molly replied slowly. “I try to avoid groups. I think I might know the place you’re talking about, though. It’s a several moons-walk away from here.” Canarywish’s heart sank. “My mother traveled through there once.”

“Grandma Lily?” Skipper asked between a mouthful of squirrel.

“Don’t speak with prey in your mouth. Remember your manners,” the molly retorted sternly, then: “Yes, Grandma Lily.”

“Could you take me there?” Canarywish implored. “I’m lost.”

“Like an adventure!” Skipper exclaimed, a chunk of squirrel meat flying from his mouth. At his mother’s look, he mumbled a quick, unapologetic “sorry.”

“Okay,” Skipper’s mother agreed, tone breezy. Canarywish was surprised by how readily she agreed, until she added, “but you have to hunt for us on the way there. You said you can hunt, yes? So that’ll be the price of having me as your guide.”

“Thank you.” Canarywish couldn’t help the purr that was rising in her throat. She was finally going home! “One more thing…”

“Hmm?”

“What should I call you?”

“Oh.” The molly blinked, seeming surprised. “Fang.”

“It’s good to meet you, Fang.”

“Let’s hope I’ll be able to say the same thing soon,” Fang huffed, turning back towards Skipper to cajole him into finishing his breakfast. Even Fang’s standoffishness couldn’t diminish Canarywish’s hopefulness. It might take several  moons, but she was going home.

MOON ???

“Nice one, Fawnpaw!” Ryewhistle cheered, bunting her head against her apprentice’s. 

“Thanks,” Fawnpaw replied breezily. She’d managed to snag two river voles as they exited their den, snapping their spines before they could even squeak in alarm. 

“You’re a fast learner,” Canarywish praised. She shot a glance at her own apprentice, but Jaypaw’s demeanor remained dispassionate. Bored, almost. Catching Canarywish’s eye, Jaypaw’s shoulders bunched uncomfortably.

“Good job, Fawnpaw,” Jaypaw muttered, nose wrinkling. Her gaze was narrowed slightly, but given that her voice was always a steady monotone, it was difficult to detect any disingenuity in her tone. Fawnpaw smirked lazily, gaze brightening. Jaypaw sighed.

“It would probably be easier to hunt if we split into pairs,” Jaypaw drawled. “Otherwise we’re spending a lot of time stepping on eachother’s paws.”

“Good idea!” Ryewhistle praised. She was always incredibly enthusiastic with the apprentices, perhaps too much so. Canarywish found the other warrior to be a bit overwhelming, but she knew Ryewhistle’s intentions were pure. “Fawnpaw and I will stay by the river. Why don’t you and Jaypaw head towards the sky pine?” Ryewhistle asked Canarywish. Jaypaw’s frown deepened. 

Canarywish replied, “Actually, is it okay if Jaypaw and I take the river? I don’t think you’ve taken Fawnpaw tree-climbing yet.”

“Oh, that’s true. Fawnpaw, I’m going to show you how to catch squirrels! Usually, we wait for them to come down from their trees, but sometimes it’s best to ambush them in their nests. You can also find baby birds or eggs…” Ryewhistle continued rambling, trotting off with her head held high. Fawnpaw murmured a quick “see you later” to Jaypaw, who nodded briskly.

As soon as the other two cats were out of earshot, Jaypaw stated, “You didn’t have to do that.” Canarywish didn’t respond, padding along the riverbank. As predicted, Jaypaw followed, adding, “I don’t need special treatment. I can handle disappointment.” A pause, then: “I’m not going to murder someone if I don’t get my way.”

Canarywish jolted to a stop, turning to face her apprentice. “What?”

Jaypaw huffed. “I see the way all of you look at me and my littermates. Cranepaw has it the worst. You all act like it’s just a matter of time before one of us snaps.”

“That isn’t,” Canarywish started, then hesitated. Undeniable hurt was shining in Jaypaw’s gaze. Canarywish exhaled softly, sitting down. “That isn’t why I asked Ryewhistle to let us take the river. I know you enjoy swimming. It relaxes you, doesn’t it?” Reluctantly, Jaypaw nodded. “You seem tense, so I thought some fishing might help. I’ve noticed that you compare yourself to the other apprentices a lot.” Jaypaw opened her mouth to protest but Canarywish kept talking, “I was like that, too. Not at first, but Ravenstar was a harsh mentor. He wasn’t cruel to me, but he wanted me to succeed. He wanted me to be the best warrior I could be.”

Jaypaw stilled. “Ravenstar was your mentor?”

“Yes.” Canarywish allowed Jaypaw a moment to process this before continuing, “I was always working twice as hard as the other apprentices. I was younger, but I managed to always beat Tinybird and Tempestflare at everything. It wasn’t a competition to them, but with the way Ravenstar would nod approvingly at me—it became important to me to be better.” Canarywish dipped a paw into the river, spreading her toes and allowing her pawpad to brush against the river rocks. The feeling was grounding, allowing her to continue her story. “But it didn’t matter how hard I tried. Frozenfog was always better. So I would sneak out and practice my hunting, every day. I was exhausted all the time but that didn’t stop me. Eventually, I was better than her, but only at hunting.” 

“Brambletuft said you’re one of the best hunters in the clan,” Jaypaw commented. Canarywish nodded. 

“A lot of cats say that. I don’t know if it’s true. My point is, I wasted a lot of my apprenticeship feeling anxious and like I was doing enough. Like I was failing everyone around me. Instead of befriending the other apprentices, I isolated myself. Frozenfog could have been my friend, but instead she was an obstacle to overcome.” Jaypaw shifted uneasily. “Fawnpaw wants to be your friend, not your rival.”

“She’s always making fun of me,” Jaypaw hissed, growing agitated. “She doesn’t even try but she always does everything perfectly anyway.”

“Have you told her how you feel? I don’t think her intention is to hurt you.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“That’s okay.” Canarywish retracted her paw. “We have some fishing to do, anyway.” Just as she was shifting to her paws, Jaypaw spoke again.

“Thank you for being honest with me.” Not meeting Canarywish’s gaze, Jaypaw added, “Maybe sometime you could tell me about Ravenstar. What he was really like, I mean. I know he’s my father. I’m not stupid, even if no cat will admit it. I just want to know if what he tells—if what other cats tell me is true.” 

“Okay.” Canarywish took a steadying breath. “We can talk about him sometime.”

“Thanks,” Jaypaw mumbled. “Again.”

“Yeah.” Canarywish smiled, tentative. “That’s what mentors are for.”

MOON 14

“Then, you tense your haunches like this and—pounce!” Canarywish sprang forward, forepaws landing squarely on the leaf she’d been targeting. “Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes! I’m going to be the best hunter ever!” Skipper bounced up and down, shaking with excitement. Fang was nearby, grooming her paws. Ever since Canarywish had started hunting for the pair, Fang’s form had filled out, her pelt sleeker and muscles more evident. She had been so scrawny when they’d first met, it was a wonder that she’d had the strength to pin Canarywish. She now suspected that, if not for her surprise, she’d have been able to easily bat Fang away. Just like her name implied, Fang had a single, pointed fang peeking out, reminding Canarywish of Quailcall and Nightgleam. Fang also had a white patch above her nose, more noticeable in the sunlight than in the warren they’d met in.

Fang paused her grooming. “You’ll scare away all the prey if you keep wiggling around like that. Keep still, Skip.”

“Oh! Right.” Skipper stilled. He was still vibrating with energy, reminding Canarywish of how excited Daisyfreckle had been when Canarywish offered to show her some hunting moves. Daisyfreckle had only been a kit herself then. Ignoring the tug of longing in her heart, Canarywish motioned to Skipper.

“Okay, now I want you to try this…”

MOON ???

“Look! Canarywish, look! I caught a salmon!” Daisypaw was wriggling with delight, the limp salmon dropped unceremoniously in front of Canarywish’s paws. “I bet no Fallenclan apprentice has ever caught a fish this big! What do you think? Am I right?”

“Maybe,” Canarywish replied, mirth lacing her voice. “I think Sootstep caught a pretty big fish during her apprenticeship…”

“What!” Daisypaw’s eyes widened. “I’m going to go ask her. I can’t be claiming to have caught the biggest fish if it isn’t true,” she stated sagely. “Talk to you later, Canarywish!” With that, Daisypaw was haring across camp towards the warriors’ den, abandoning her catch with Canarywish. 

“She’s a lot like you, you know,” Ficklefern commented. Canarywish glanced at the other molly. She hadn’t noticed her approach.

“Really?” Canarywish’s tail twitched. Her posture was otherwise serene, demeanor guarded. “She has so much energy. I don’t know how she can manage to train and patrol all day, only to come back to camp and race about like a wild hare.”

Ficklefern chuckled. “Don’t you remember how excited you were to become an apprentice? I remember Moorthistle kept trying to groom your fur but you just wouldn’t stop fidgeting. You kept asking her who she thought would be your mentor.” Canarywish’s full attention was on Ficklefern now. The brown molly had a contemplative expression on her face, gaze distant. “You were so thrilled when Ravenstar said announced he’d be your mentor.”

“Oh.” Canarywish shuffled her paws, grimacing. Cats rarely mentioned Ravenstar anymore. It was a sore subject for many. So much of the clan had been complacent in his crimes, looking the other way or holding their tongues, even as his cruelty became more apparent. There was a lot of lasting guilt, Canarywish suspected. How long had Poppyfeather been left unavenged? How quickly had the clan accepted Cherrystar’s mysterious death? How many gazes turned aside as Sandsnap’s blood stained the ground red? 

“Sorry,” Ficklefern said. Her brows had furrowed slightly. “It wasn’t like you knew…”

“Of course.” Canarywish’s gaze slid away from Ficklefern, returning to Daisypaw who was now chattering loudly at Sootstep. The older warrior was listening intently, nodding occasionally. Her icy blue eyes twinkled with amusement. 

“I just meant to say,” Ficklefern continued. “You were happy once. I think, if you gave yourself the room, you could be happy again.” Canarywish could feel herself beginning to bristle. “It probably isn’t my place to say, but I just-”

“You’re right,” Canarywish interjected icily. “It isn’t your place to say.” Immediately, guilt flooded her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just—I’m not unhappy here. I just feel so… alone, sometimes.”

Ficklefern hummed in response. “I think you should take some time to think things through. Afterwards, if you feel up for it, you should come talk to me. It is my job to listen, after all.” The soft rumble of Sootstep’s voice carried across camp. Daisypaw’s eyes had grown wide, entranced by whatever knowledge Sootstep was imparting.

“Okay,” Canarywish replied. “I’ll give it some thought.”

“That’s all I ask.” Before Canarywish could say anything else, Daisypaw was racing back across the camp, tail held high and ears pricked forward. 

“Canarywish! Canarywish! Sootstep told me—oh, hi auntie Ficklefern.” Daisypaw came to an abrupt halt, dipping her head politely to the mediator. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, no. I was just heading over to check on Rookfeather. I’ll see you both later.” With that, Ficklefern padded away. Canarywish watched her go for a few moments before focusing on Daisypaw.

“So, what was it that Sootstep told you?”

MOON 15

“Have you ever had kits before?” Fang’s question caught Canarywish off guard.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“You’re just so good with Skipper. It seems like you must have experience rasing kits. He’s my first kit, the only from my first litter. Raising him has been a challenge, at times.”

“In my clan, kits are often communally raised. Every cat helps out. I also have a little sister.”

“Oh.” Fang considered this. “Your parents didn’t make you leave after they had a second litter?”

“No.” Canarywish recoiled. “What type of cat would do something like that?”

Fang didn’t respond.

MOON 16

Canarywish panted, struggling to press back waves of nausea. The stench of fox remained, but the vixen itself had fled. “Canarywish?” Fang rasped, voice strained. “It’s okay; you’ll be okay. It’s only the one bite on your leg. Skip, go find some dock leaves.”

“But, Mama-”

“Flat, dark green. Near the tree stump we passed a few minutes ago. If you catch wind of another fox, climb up the nearest tree, like I showed you.” Skipper sniffled a few times, but didn’t protest further. Canarywish heard the pitter-patter of his tiny pawsteps racing away. He was old enough to be an apprentice now, but still far smaller than Daisyfreckle had been at that age. “What were you thinking?” Fang hissed. It took Canarywish a moment to realize the question was directed at her. There was no one else around now.

“The fox was going to attack you.”

“So you yell out a warning!” Fang snapped. “You don’t throw yourself in front of me like some sort of fool. Who taught you to get yourself killed for a stranger?”

Canarywish winced. “You aren’t a stranger.”

“Is this the kind of behavior your ‘clanmates’ expect of you?” Fang retorted, crouching to get a better look at the bite. She grumbled, hooking her claw into a clump of moss and pressing the damp, spongy plant against the wound. 

“They don’t ‘expect’ it, it’s just… it’s what’s right.” Canarywish was trying desperately to stay still as Fang cleaned out the wound.

“It’s foolishness. You’re worth more than what you can offer to other cats. Your ‘clan’ better appreciate that,” Fang huffed. “They don’t own you.”

Canarywish wanted to protest. Fang didn’t understand clan life. But Canarywish could feel herself slipping, tumbling towards a dark abyss. Faintly, she could hear Skipper’s voice, marking his return. Canarywish couldn’t make out the conversation. The last thing she remembered was Skipper’s pelt pressing against her own.

MOON 17

“Are you still awake?” Fang squinted through the dark. Canarywish gave a slight nod. Skipper was curled against Fang’s side, snoring softly. “How’s your leg feeling?”

“Better,” Canarywish murmured honestly. It still ached, but the bite hadn’t been deep enough to do permanent damage. Still, it had been an agonizing first few days. Fang had been gone often, hunting and also foraging for more herbs. Skipper would sometimes go hunting too, but mostly he kept Canarywish company. “I couldn’t sleep. You?”

“Nightmares,” Fang replied, sighing. Her tail was close enough to brush against Canarywish’s. Wordlessly, Canarywish twined their tails together. Fang tensed slightly, then relaxed, a weary smile crossing her features. “Have you ever known anyone brilliantly charming, but deep down their heart is wicked? They make all sorts of promises but beneath their smooth talking there’s a simmering hatred, and you know no amount of love will ever chase it away.”

“I think so,” Canarywish responded. At Fang’s expectant look, Canarywish added, “His name was Ravenstar.”

“Another clan cat, then? And I thought your name was odd.” Fang’s whiskers twitched, but after a moment of silent laughter she nodded for Canarywish to continue.

“He was my uncle and the leader of Fallenclan, for a time. He was effortlessly charming and clever, but reckless and arrogant, too. He murdered cats just for getting in his way and instigated a war with a rival clan. He was always so loving towards me, it’s sometimes hard to reconcile that with the cat he really was, at heart.”

“What happened to him?” Fang asked.

“He was punished by Starclan, then killed by Wolfstar. She’s Fallenclan’s current leader.”

“Clan life sounds pretty dangerous. I was in a group once, too. The leader was my mate. Things ended poorly, as you’ve probably surmised. I never expected to be a mother, especially not on my own. But I love Skipper more than anything. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe.” Fang’s voice lowered slightly, gaze darkening. “It’s better to live without authority, to trust yourself above all else. That way, cats can’t betray you. They can’t hurt you.” She paused. “But maybe living with other cats isn’t so bad, as long as they’re the right cats.”

“My clanmates are the right cats,” Canarywish insisted. “Even if they’ve made mistakes. It was wrong to follow Ravenstar, but you know what it’s like to love someone who isn’t good for you.” Fang’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You shouldn’t isolate yourself just because you’re scared of being hurt. You’ll just end up sad and alone.” Something painful rattled in Canarywish’s chest. 

“Even if I never see my family again, I still have all of the memories we’ve made together. I know that they love me, and I love them. When I feel alone, I just remind myself of all of the times my clanmates were there for me. I used to let that despair consume me, but my aunt, she—she told me something. She told me that even when my heart feels alone, my body knows the truth. That I just need to look around me at all the cats who love me. That even if I can’t see them, my mind can remember them.”

“No one’s ever loved me before. Not really,” Fang said dully.

“Your son loves you. Even if he someday travels far away from you, you can’t take away the fact that he loved you.” Canarywish let out a soft, barely audible laugh. “I love my clanmates. I love you, too.” 

Fang was silent for a long time. Then, she murmured, “You have more love in your heart than anyone else I know. Thank you, for letting me see it, even if it’s only temporary.” Canarywish rested her chin on her paws. Maybe it doesn’t have to be temporary, she thought. For now, though, it was present, and that was enough.

MOON ???

“I’m so proud of you,” Finchbeak purred softly, nuzzling Pigeontooth. The tom was purring as well, tail held high. Cranepaw pressed her pelt against Pigeontooth’s side, giving his shoulder a few affectionate licks. 

“It’s only a matter of time before you get your warrior name, too, sweetheart,” Moorthistle murmured, wrapping her bushy tail around Jaypaw. “Isn’t she doing well in her training?”

“Very well,” Canarywish confirmed. “I think we can have your assessment very soon, Jaypaw.”

“Sure.” Jaypaw was smiling, focused on her siblings. Pigeontooth beamed at Jaypaw.

“There’ll be a nest ready for you in the warriors’ den once you pass your assessment,” Pigeontooth promised. Cranepaw’s smile faltered slightly.

“Oh, Jaypaw, you aren’t upset? I mean, I’m sure you’ll be a warrior soon–”

“No, it’s okay.” Jaypaw flicked her tail dismissively. “I’m not worried about it. When I get my warrior name, I’ll be the best warrior that I can be. For now, let’s celebrate Pigeontooth.” Behind her Pigeontooth, Canarywish thought she saw a flash of relief in Finchbeak’s gaze, but it was possible Canarywish imagined it. 

“You three are growing up so fast…” Moorthistle rumbled, eyes watering. “Oh, Daisypaw will be a warrior soon, too. I can’t believe it.”

“We’ll have to section off a third warriors’ den at this rate,” Finchbeak joked. Her gaze fled to her paws when every cat’s attention turned to her, but she was met with only amused smiles. After several moons of overcrowding, Flamefall had finally decided to organize an effort to make room for a second warriors’ den. Cats could choose which den to sleep in, but with two dens there’d be enough room for cats to sleep comfortably. Still, most ended up sharing nests even now. Canarywish slept by herself, but sometimes Daisypaw would sneak into the warriors den to sleep beside Canarywish. Canarywish suspected that Daisypaw might share Canarywish’s nest once Daisypaw became a warrior.

“My paws are still so sore from weaving together so much of the bedding last time,” Moorthistle laughed. “You’d help me again, wouldn’t you, Canarywish?”

“Of course,” Canarywish replied immediately. 

“Hopefully we’ll have a little bit more time before that becomes a necessity,” Finchbeak hummed. 

“I wouldn’t mind having more space,” Canarywish admitted.

“More space means room for more clanmates,” Moorthistle purred. “Maybe Pondshine’s sister will join. I know he misses her a lot.”

“Her name is Spottedshade, right?” Finchbeak asked. As the conversation turned towards the topic of Shallowclan politics, Canarywish allowed the moment to ground her. Jaypaw seemed to perk up at the mention of outside clan affairs, and Canarywish felt pride swell in her chest. 

Initially, Canarywish had been scared to be a mentor, afraid to make the same mistakes that Ravenstar had with her. But Canarywish had grown to appreciate the young cat Jaypaw was growing into, someone reserved yet also kind and intuitive. She would make a fine warrior in her own time. 

Canarywish was looking forward to seeing the cat Jaypaw would become, without the shadow of her father looming over her.

MOON 19

Canarywish’s leg was nearly fully healed now. It still ached occasionally, but she could run and hunt without major complications. Skipper was nearly fully grown now, almost as tall as Canarywish. The tom was prancing ahead of Canarywish and Fang, humming a song Canarywish didn’t know the words too. Fang’s pace was slower, keeping even with Canarywish. “Be careful, Skip. You’ll trip if you don’t look out for roots.”

“I’m being careful!” Skipper promised, pausing his melody. “And that was one time, Mama.”

“You nearly sprained a paw,” Fang retorted, shaking her head slightly. “You cried for an hour.”

“No, I didn’t! I only cried for a few minutes,” Skipper argued. “Canarywish, you were there! Back me up.”

Canarywish considered. “It was more like half of an hour.”

“No!” Skipper wailed dramatically, collapsing. “Betrayal!” A second later, he was giggling. Fang sighed.

“I don’t know where he gets this energy from,” she muttered. 

“He’s a lot like Daisyfreckle,” Canarywish replied, stopping to stretch her back as Skipper rolled to his paws, pretending to attack a drifting leaf. “I think they’d be good friends.”

“Maybe.” Fang shifted uncomfortably. “It’s getting late. We should find somewhere to den up for the night.”

“All right,” Canarywish agreed. “Let’s try that log a ways back.”

“Sounds perfect.”

MOON ???

“Do you think you’ll ever have kits?” Littleleaf asked. Canarywish didn’t respond for several moments, chewing on a chunk of robin.

“I don’t know. Probably not.” Canarywish swiped her tongue over her maw, tracing away a few stray feathers. 

“That’s okay. Parenthood isn’t for everyone,” Littleleaf said gently. “Just know that whatever you and Daisyfreckle decide to do with your lives, Moorthistle and I will always support you.”

“Where is this coming from?” Canarywish blinked. 

“Well, your mother and I are starting to slow down. We’ll probably move to the elders’ den soon. I’ve just been thinking about how proud I am of you and your sister, and I hope you always know that. I love you, Canary.”

“I love you, too, Dad,” Canarywish purred gently, pressing her cheek against Littleleaf’s chest. “Always.”

MOON 21

It had been almost 22 full moons since Canarywish had been taken away from her clan. Now, she could see Fallenclan’s mountain, her mountain, in the distance. She, alongside Fang and Skipper, were cutting through Archclan’s territory, avoiding patrols as they did so. Canarywish’s heart was brimming with joy. She was almost home!

Once they finally reached Fallenclan territory, Canarywish broke into a sprint. Skipper bounded alongside her, whooping and laughing as he went. “Wait!” Fang’s voice cut through Skipper’s laughter, and both he and Canarywish came to an abrupt stop, turning towards Fang.

“Can we maybe take a break? I’m getting tired.”

Canarywish wanted to protest—they were almost there!—but the disgruntled look on Fang’s face convinced her to give in. “All right.”

“Skipper, why don’t you see if you can catch something for us to eat, since you’re still so full of energy?” Fang asked, settling into a loaf-position, her legs curled beneath her.

“Okay! I’m going to catch a really big rabbit this time!” The young tom grinned. “That’ll impress the Fallenclan cats. They’ll make me a warrior right away: Skippersong! Or maybe Skipperwish? Oh, or Tadpoleskip, because my fur is black like a tadpole.” Skipper grinned, continuing to list off potential warrior names as he flounced off. 

Canarywish sat down next to Fang, peering down at the shadow-pelted molly. “What’s wrong?”

Fang frowned, visibly disquieted. Then, she asked, “Are you sure you want to go back? To your clan, I mean. Maybe you wouldn’t be happy there anymore.”

“What?” Canarywish’s ears flattened. She had to take a deep breath to temper herself. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, I want you to stay,” Fang pressed. “I don’t want you to leave, Canarywish. The three of us could be happy together. And maybe if Skipper leaves some day, like you said, then we can find somewhere to settle down, so he knows where to find us when he comes back to visit.” Fang’s sharp gaze was tentative, as if she were bracing for the inevitable rejection. 

“I have to go back to my clan,” Canarywish murmured. 

Fang’s expression was briefly stricken, but she quickly looked away, neutrally stating, “That’s fine. I was expecting you to say that.”

“But you could come with me,” Canarywish continued. “Fallenclan is always accepting of outsiders. Wolfstar wouldn’t even question it. You and Skipper would be welcome. Most cats in Fallenclan are super friendly, and even the ones that aren’t so friendly are still fiercely loyal to the clan. You both could be a part of the clan.”

Fang’s shoulders tensed, her tail swishing like a fern trembling in the breeze. “You said Wolfstar is a killer. You said your clan goes to war with rival clans. I don’t want any cat to have control over me or my life ever again. I don’t want my son being sent off to fight cats he doesn’t even know, or being killed for questioning Wolfstar’s rules.”

“Wolfstar isn’t like that,” Canarywish pleaded. “I promise. Fallenclan isn’t at war. We’re allies with every other clan except Shallowclan, and their leader, Fernstar, has come to an agreement with Wolfstar. There won’t be anymore fighting.”

“You can’t know that,” Fang growled.

“No, I suppose I can’t.” Canarywish pressed her nose against Fang’s cheek, then leaned back. “The future isn’t certain. I’d like for you and Skipper to come with me, but if you can’t, I’ll understand. We’ll still have our memories. You can’t take loved away.”

Fang swallowed, whiskers trembling. Without warning, Skipper burst out of the treeline, causing both Canarywish and Fang to flinch. “Skipper!” Fang snapped. “What did I tell you about listening to other cats’ conversations?”

“We aren’t going with Canarywish?” Skipper asked, devastation etched in his features. “We aren’t going to join her family?”

“It isn’t that simple,” Fang replied. Skipper lowered his gaze, tail drooping. Canarywish wished there was something she could say to make this better. Haltingly, Fang began, “You’re an adult cat now, Skip.” She inhaled. “If–if you want to go with Canarywish, you can go with her.”

“What about you?” Skipper pleaded.

“I can’t. At least, I can’t right now.” Fang hesitated. “I need time to think about this.”

Skipper wavered then, lifting his chin, he stated, “I’m staying with you, Mama.”

“Oh, Skip,” Fang sighed. “I’m sorry, Canarywish. I can’t promise anything, but I don’t want this to be goodbye forever. I’ll come see you again, and maybe then… maybe I’ll be ready.” Mirroring Canarywish’s gesture, Fang stood, pressing her nose against Canarywish’s. “Go find your family.”

Canarywish swallowed, nodding. Skipper darted forward, pressing his pelt against hers and purring. “Thank you, Miss Canarywish. I’m going to practice my warrior moves, so when we see each other again I can impress all of your friends.”

“I’m sure you will,” Canarywish whispered. When both Skipper and Fang finally stepped back, Canarywish gave each of them a slow blink. 

Then, she turned, and began the journey home anew.

MOON ???

“Just tell me who it is,” Blossomfur pressed. “As long as it isn’t a Shallowclan cat, there won’t be an issue. Even then, I suppose I’d manage for a third time.”

“Third?” Canarywish questioned. She knew about Pondshine, but she wasn’t sure about which other relative of hers had let their heart wander across the border. 

“Mmm, forget I said that,” Blossomfur replied, giving her chest a few licks for composure. She then returned her critical gaze back to Daisyfreckle. “Come on, Daisy. You can’t just tell your auntie that you have a crush and then refuse to say who it is.”

“You can’t laugh,” Daisyfreckle implored. “Promise.”

“I promise,” Blossomfur said, ears pricked forward in anticipation.

“You too, Canarywish.”

“I promise that I won’t laugh,” Canarywish agreed.

“Fine…” Daisyfreckle sighed dramatically. “It’s… Fishstick,” she whispered.

“Fishstick?” Blossomfur wrinkled her nose. “Really?”

“Shhh! You said you wouldn’t laugh,” Daisyfreckle complained. “She’s just really cool. I think she has a thing with Craneclaw, though, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“You don’t need a mate to be happy,” Blossomfur said, nudging Daisyfreckle’s shoulder. “Fishstick’s all right, I just thought you might go for someone a little more… laid back? Like Clayshade.”

“What? No. Clayshade is way too young for me,” Daisyfreckle huffed, rolling her eyes. “She’s like, a kit practically.”

“Hardly,” Canarywish couldn’t help but snort. “She’s bigger than you, Daisy.”

“No, she isn’t!” Daisyfreckle gasped, affronted. “She’s just… fluffy.”

“Which makes her bigger than you,” Blossomfur teased. “What about Bonestalk? You two seem to get along.”

“Ugh, no. He’s practically a kit, too. Who do you think I am?” Daisyfreckle shook her head dramatically, but one fang was sticking out in a crooked smile. 

“I guess you’ll have to wait for some outsider to join, then,” Canarywish laughed softly. “Or you could shoot your shot with Fishstick, who knows.”

“Like I said, you don’t need a mate,” Blossomfur added.

“I know, I know,” Daisyfreckle sighed. “I just want someone to love me the way Littleleaf and Moorthistle love each other. Like, romantically.” She blinked. “Sorry, Blossomfur.”

“Why are you apologizing to me?” Blossomfur snorted, but Canarywish could see that she was smiling as well. “You’re fully welcome to your hopeless pining.”

“It isn’t hopeless yet,” Daisyfreckle sniffed. “Craneclaw hasn’t made a move yet. There’s still time!”

“We’ll see,” Canarywish purred, wrapping her tail around her sister’s flank. “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before Fishstick is falling at your paws.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Blossomfur chuckled.

“Blossomfur,” Canarywish chided, but she was laughing as well. Daisyfreckle gave another long-suffering sigh, but even she couldn’t keep the grin off her face. Soon enough, she was giggling too. 

MOON 22

A day had passed since Canarywish had left Skipper and Fang. She’d rested out in the territory, too exhausted to make her way back to camp. Now, as her paws traced familiar stones, Canarywish could hear the soft chatter of an early morning patrol. She recognized the voices immediately: Bluestorm, Batspring, Jaystripe, Fennelflower, and one new voice Canarywish didn’t recognize. It was strange, knowing that Fallenclan had moved on without her. Lives had continued, kits were born and outsiders joined the clan. Cats had probably died, too. Canarywish shook off the thought. 

“Wait, I smell a cat,” Bluestorm’s voice drifted towards Canarywish’s ears. His soft timbre was uncertain, as if he wasn’t quite sure that the scent he’d caught was correct.

“Is that…?” Fennelflower murmured.

“Canarywish!” Jaystripe raced into Canarywish’s line of sight. “Canarywish, you’re back.” The younger molly’s expression was neutral, but her eyes were shining. The rest of the patrol followed close behind, each letting out exclaimations of surprise and delight.

“Burnpaw, this is Canarywish. She’s one of our clanmates that got lost,” Fennelflower mrrowed to the apprentice beside her, the one voice Canarywish didn’t recognize.

“I know,” Burnpaw replied quietly.

“It’s good to see you again,” Batspring purred.

“Yes,” Canarywish agreed. As he clanmates chattered anxiously about who was going to bring her back to camp, she murmured: “It’s good to be home.”

MOON ???

“What does it feel like, to love someone and lose them?” 

“Well,” Mossfrog began slowly, her round eyes squinting thoughtfully. Canarywish was always reminded of an owl when looking at her grandmother’s soft, wide-eyed face. “That depends. There are several ways in which you might lose someone.”

“Like what?”

“Firstly, there is death. Death is permanent and cannot be undone.” The elderly molly exhaled. “My mother, Lightningtail. My littermates, Lionsong and Salmonskip. My mate, Rustbee. My friends, Owlscreech and Waspflight. They’re all dead now.” Mossfrog let out a slow, raspy breath. “That pain doesn’t leave you, but it does lessen over time. It helps, knowing that I’ll see them again someday. For now, though, I hold on to the memories of their love. I keep living my life, and when I see them again, I’ll have many new stories to tell them.”

Canarywish nodded, if not in understanding than in sympathy. The only cat she’d really lost was Ravenstar, but those feelings were complicated.

“Then, there’s separation. Sometimes, cats need to go their separate ways. There’s a chance they might come back, but oftentimes they won’t. Like with death, you just hold on to the memories you have of them. Then there’s change. Cats change, and sometimes they change so much you can’t recognize them. That’s a different sort of loss.” Mossfrog blinked slowly. “Thankfully, it isn’t one I’ve had to suffer.”

“But the memories,” Canarywish pressed. “Are they really enough?”

“It can be. Every day is different, but it’s important to keep living, even if it hurts. Especially when it hurts. I hope you understand that, Canarywish.”

“I do.” Canarywish wasn’t sure that she did understand, but she vowed to hang on to Mossfrog’s words.

“I love you, honey,” Mossfrog murmured.

“I love you, too, Grandmama,” Canarywish purred. “Always.”

“Always,” Mossfrog agreed. “Even once I’ve begun to walk with the stars, my love will always follow you.”

Yawning, Canarywish nestled into Mossfrog’s feather-filled nest, purring softly. Today was one of her good days. She knew there was a chance tomorrow would be a bad day, but even so, Canarywish was determined to enjoy this moment while it lasted. 

Letting the love she felt in this moment wash over her, Canarywish closed her eyes and murmured, “Goodnight.”

-🐉 (canarywish fic! hopefully she is characterized accurately. i had fun playing around with these characters. also, the new characters are not ocs, they are guys i made up for the sake of this fic. that being said, if anyone wants to do anything with them, go ahead! 

it’s possible that tumblr has broken the formatting quite a bit but hopefully it remained somewhat intact. anyway - i know some people have asked about my getting an ao3 account. i haven’t been able to, but if someone wants to post any of my fics, literally just mention they’re by dragon anon and that’d be fine with me, since on tumblr it’s hard to compile them lol.

hope you all enjoyed. smiles evilly)

I do have more information to work with on Alastor's character.

How funny. He openly mocks the idea of working with other people. Vox's proposed partnership wasn't even unreasonable, he just thought it was ridiculous to rely on someone else for anything. The moment he lost respect for Vox, he cut ties with him.

Or perhaps there's another reason underneath his dismissal, but I genuinely don't believe so. At minimum, that was his intention. I think he could've had more complicated feelings than what he expressed, but I doubt he was ever aware of them.

Vox seemed awfully genuine, too. He's so clearly fake with Valentino and Velvette these days, I can only imagine how much this hurt him.

Also, I always thought Alastor was self-absorbed, but I've just got confirmation that, no, he's just self-absorbed to the point of fault, period. He assumed he was the strongest in hell given his deal and that was his only source of confidence. The one time he gets genuinely hurt, and he goes straight back to the person who gave him his soul to complain to them. He's so pathetic, I called it. I didn't fully commit without evidence but I've certainly got more of it now.