#gorsedaisy

Nightfly Origin

First

Previous

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Nightdrift held his breath, watching as still as a rock. But when the cat moved out of the shadow of the bridge, it was clear that she was neither Meadowtree nor Feathergaze. Just a random alley cat.

But maybe she knew where their Clanmates were.

He followed Twistedshine and Bramblefin, who were already racing to meet the cat, and dipped his head in polite, if hasty, greeting.

“Oh, hello–” the cat began, when the RiverClan cats began to bombard her with questions.

“Have you seen any Clan cats around?”

“Her name is Feathergaze–”

“She looks like me.”

“She might be with some other cats too.”

The she-cat watched them with what looked to be mingling feelings of bewilderment, amusement, and irritation. She waited until their rambling slowed, then turned around back into the bridge’s darkness, flicking her tail in a gesture for them to follow.

They did so, Nightdrift a bit fast as he moved through the darkness of the strange structure.

The other side had a rounded, bumpy thunderpath that covered the ground like the grass in a clearing. There were patches of dried grass and dandelions that poked here and there, but the most shelter this place provided was composed of debris and smelly Twoleg things. Instead of tall trees or rolling hills, this place had Twoleg dens higher than either, surrounding the cats like a starving pack of foxes. There were two long alleyways that led to this place, but by the looks of them, Nightdrift guessed that no one–at least no house cat with better options–had come this way in a long time.

The more he looked around, the more Nightdrift realized that eyes were on them. In the shadows, behind different structures. They were all slinking around. He couldn’t count them all.

The she-cat cleared her throat as she turned to face them, and Nightdrift was forced to look at her. 

But she seemed to sense his nerves, and waved a dismissive paw. “Oh, don’t mind the lot, they’ve just got nothing better to do than to spy on strangers.” She whipped her head around, and in an instant her friendly demeanor changed to show her long, sharp fangs. “Beat it, will ya?! You’re scaring the guests. Shoo, before I make ya!” 

As soon as she spoke, the eyes were gone. Nightdrit heard the soft sound of pawsteps hurrying away, and he blinked at this cat, marveling at how easily she had controlled them. “They must really respect you!” 

The she-cat shrugged, humbly. “The name’s Ash. Pleasure to meet ya. Clan cats, I presume?”

“WindClan,” Nightdrift told her.

“RiverClan, both of us,” Bramblefin added, nodding at Twistedshine, who was beside him.

“Yeah, yeah, pleasure,” Twistedshine grumbled, “look, we’re kind of in a hurry, so if you could please–”

“Mama!” 

Two little kits sprang out of the darkness. Nightdrift blinked as they nuzzled their mother, baffled that he failed to hear their approach. Perhaps the talking blocked it out. He bit back a yawn. Or perhaps he was just getting really tired. He had promised Kestralspot and Pepperfoot that he would be back by dusk. By the time they got back, it would be dawn. 

*Stars, can my paws even carry me so far?* Nightdrift found himself slumping to the ground.

“Oh my!” Ash turned to her son, a little white tom with yellow eyes. “Scooter, be a doll, fetch these nice folk some bedding, okay dear?”

“Okay!” Scooter chirped loudly before springing away.

“We’re not really going to be here long–” Twistedshine began to decline.

“Are you hungry?” Ash asked the group when her daughter–a black tortie with orange flecks, like her mother–nipped at her tail. “Ha! I know someone who could use a bite.” She gently batted the kit away. “Patience, Cody. You’ll eat soon enough, but not if you shred my fur off!”

Cody ducked her head. “Sorry momma!”

Ash returned her attention once again to the group. “So, Clan cats, eh? Why, you must have walked a long way to find me. Either you’re lost, or my mother sent you.”

Bramblefin tilted his head. “Elderly kittypet? Yeah, you look a little like her.”

Ash wrinkled her snout playfully. “Ha! Don’t say that, I don’t like being insulted in my own home.”

“I didn’t mean–”

“Scooter! Wonderful job, love,” Ash broke off as her son returned.He carried something thin and long enough to drag behind him for a few tail-lengths. It was an off-pink colour, and decidedly not moss. But, testing it with a paw, it seemed comfortable enough, and Nightdrift couldn’t resist leaning into the soft touch, letting the strange warmth soak up the soreness in his feet.

“Enough pleasantries!” Twistedshine snapped. “We’re looking for our missing kin. Your mother said that they came here. Now, where are they?”

Ash’s whiskers gave the slightest twitch, but other than that she gave away no indication that the RiverClan she-cat’s words had offended her. Instead, she grabbed a hold of the kittypet-moss and stretched it out so that it was big enough for her three guests to settle onto it comfortably. When she was done, she patted it with a paw, indicating that she wanted them to rest on it anyway. 

“Your fur’s a mess!” Ash pointed out kindly. “You look exhausted, and you know I ain’t deaf, right? I can hear your stomachs growling. Is that the state you want your loved ones to see ya in? I don’t think so,” she finished before anyone could answer. “Now, rest up! I’ll be right back with some nice plump chicken. Cody, Scooter, come along! Help me pick out the best meat.”

Nightdrift watched her go, little ones scampering after, then looked at the strange, odd-coloured, incredibly soft kittypet moss. His paws shuffled under him, feeling the smallest of rocks that cut into his sore pads, numb from the night’s travels, and it didn’t take long before he was almost nonconsciously stepping onto the material. A sigh escaped him. It really was so soft! It took everything in him not to roll onto his side and off his paws entirely.

Bramblefin hesitated a moment longer before joining him, sniffing at the pink thing cautiously, while Twistedshine only let out another growl of annoyance, pacing to and fro while they waited for Ash and her kits to return.

“How old would you say those kits are?” Bramblefin wondered.

“Three moons, I think,” Nightdrift answered. “Why?”

Bramblefin shrugged, and his ears flattened in embarrassment. But his thoughts were apparently too great to be contained, and he ended up spilling, “if I hadn’t been such a coward and just told Feathergaze how I felt, maybe we could have made something.”

“Like kits?”

“She was hunting when the flood hit. Right by the river. I don’t know if it’s selfish but…sometimes I wonder if she would have been safer if she was confined to the nursery. Then she wouldn’t have been swept away to who-knows-where.”

“We KNOW where,” Nightdrift assured him. “Here. They came HERE. We are about to find them. We’re just going to eat first, and then Ash will tell us where to go. We’ll see them again.”

Bramblefin nodded, eyes troubled, but he didn’t argue further.

“What about you, WindClan?” Twistedshine’s voice cut through the crisp air. It was hoarse, strained from the hours spent yowling her sister’s name. “There a reason you came all this way with us. Is there something YOU were hoping to confess to?”

Nightdrift shook his head. “No, I have someone else.” His heart momentarily soared as he thought of his loving mate, and the two kits that they shared. He couldn’t wait to return to them, to hold them. “Meadowtree and I weren’t all that close. But I promised her parents I would help them look.”

“Because everybody else gave up.” Twistedshine’s words didn’t need to be poised as a question. 

“Hey.” Nightrit caught her blind eye. “We are about to prove to them that they are wrong.”

Twistedshine stood still for a heartbeat or two, then dipped her head, brows furrowed with renewed determination. A moment later, Ash reappeared, dragging another of the strange kittypet-moss. Nightdrift wondered if they were meant to eat it, when a StarClan-blessed scent hit his nose and he saw the pieces of meat laying atop the material as Ash pulled it closer. Cody and Scooter bounced on their paws after her, watching curiously.

Nightrift had no idea what a chicken was, but he saw the plump, if a little dry, meat, and his mouth had watered in seconds. He forced himself to hold back, gesturing for Bramblefin and Twistedshine to go ahead first. Twistedshine didn’t see him, of course, but the amazing smell drew her in and she began to take rapid mouthfuls. When Bramblefin backed up to give Nightdrit room, he all but dove in, feeling the ripples of hunger roll through his belly as he bit into the unfamiliar, wonderful food.

At last they were satisfied. They stepped away from the meat, now a pile of crumbs, and returned to the original kittypet-moss. 

“Thank you!” Bramblefin told Ash as he licked his lips.

“I couldn’t get enough of it,” Nightdrift told her.

Ash’s eyes glowed. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. What about you, dear? Was it up to your liking?” she asked Twistedshine.

Twistedshine didn’t respond. Nightdrift guessed that she was upset with herself for getting distracted.

Ash blinked sympathetically. “Missing your kits, I take it?”

Twistedshine’s muzzle swung to her. “How did you know?”

Ash laughed. “Well, it’s hardly a secret, love! You smell of milk and kittens. Stale, though. Am I right to say that they’re weaned?”

Twistedshine looked like she was about to snap at Ash to mind her business. Then the lock in her jaw relaxed and she replied, “they’re about a moon older than yours.”

“Do they have a father?”

“Of course they do!”

“Good!” Ash cheered. “Kitties need two parents, I like to think. You never know what could happen to one.” Her gaze drifted to her little ones, who had begun wrestling each other in a ball of fluff. 

“Well, nothing’s going to happen to him. And nothing’s going to happen to me.” Twistedshine’s cold demeanor had returned.

Ash shook her head. “There’s so much that is out of our control, dear. So much that we want to take back. My mother…did she tell you about Red?”

“Your sister’s kit?” Nightdrift guessed. His stomach felt weird.

“Her eldest,” Ash confirmed. “Her precious son. He was such a mama’s boy! I got the news after I found out I was expecting. I told my sis that I was going to have kits, and she told me hers was dead. Funny how that works, isn’t it?”

Nightdrift grimaced as a headache hit him. By Bramblefin’s expression, it had struck him as well. They shared a fearful look. 

Nightdrift stood. “We should get going–” but as soon as he was on his paws, his stomach cramped painfully and he fell into a crouch, hissing through the pain.

Ash made no move to help him. The kits broke away from their game and now sat, watching the Clan cats.

Ash let the facade fully fall, and she sneered at them with a face as chill as a blizzard. “Clan cats took him away from us. I’m only returning the favour.”

“Please!” Bramblefin gasped. “We don’t know who Red is!”

Nightdrit’s mind was racing. “R..Redjay? The ShadowClan warrior?”

“Ah, so you DO know him!”

Nightdrift coughed. “Yes, he died of sickness. But that–arg–that w-was an accident. It happens.” 

Ash struck out a paw, cuffing Nightdrift harshly around the ears and making the already painful headache into a blinding one. “The medicine cat refused to treat him. Does that happen?” she challenged.

“Hickoryskip?” Bramblefin struggled to understand. When Ash didn’t blink, he asked, “Gorsedaisy?” He was hardly able to get the name out at all.

ShadowClan’s medicine cat let their own warrior die? Why? And why were they being punished for it now?

“Wee’re nod ShadowClan…” Twistedshine’s speech was becoming slurred. “We had no id-idea.”

“I believe you,” Ash said simply. “That doesn’t mean I care.”

“Pleeze!” Nightdrift couldn’t lift himself from the ground. His stomach cramped agonizingly, as though claws were digging into his stomach, and his muscles had become loose and uncoordinated, unable to be controlled no matter how hard he willed them to move. “My…my kit’ds…need m-m-me.”

He had to get home.

He had to get to his family.

He had to.

Ash tilted her head to one side. “You believe in spirits, don’t you?”

“Yhe,” Nightdrift grunted. His vision was growing darker, black spots dotted around his periphery like an ugly mass of beetles. He wondered if Twistedshine really had stopped moving, or if that was just his eyes. 

Ash smiled. “Then pray to them. Beg them to save you, and know that they will do nothing, like ShadowClan did nothing to protect my nephew.”

Nightdrift tried to respond, to plead, to beg–her or the Stars, but his tongue filled his mouth, any speech he made at this point were only nonsense sounds. He coughed as bile rose up his throat. His last thoughts were of his newborn kits, tucked away safely in the nursery, of how he would never get to hold them close again or raise them to be the best warriors that they could be. Then it all faded to black.

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--Changed my mind about Twistedshine surviving!

--They were poisoned with antifreeze.

made it a bit messy, like those sketches in short horror films.

(the background is meant to be hazy btw)

What if young Gorsedaisy (Gorsepaw/Gorsedaisy during or before Jackdawecho) was the complete opposite of her after the Nightmare?

What if she was loud? What if she was energetic, optimistic, friendly, dorky?

And because I watched Encanto with my little cousin, I'm gonna use Mirabel (the protagonist) as an example. And because you know I love using tv inspiration for oc fuel

and to add more to that, what if she could be annoying to her family at times? They loved her, the Clan loved her, all so dearly. But her expressive nature would be irritating more than a few times. So they would tell her "not now," they would tell her to be quiet or give them space.

(and heck, maybe that's why she was drawn to someone from another Clan--someone who didn't tell her to leave, who didn't see her as a hindrance).

Then she returns after going missing after the flood.

But she didn't come back, not really. Because this cat...this isn't Gorsedaisy. This isn't their fun-loving cheerful daughter/sister/niece. This cat is a shell. Dark, empty.

Gorsedaisy's eyes should be brighter than the sun, should sparkle with wonder. Now they were dull, almost lifeless if not for the sudden flashes of terror or anger when someone startled her.

Her glossy fur with gentle curls was matted and ungroomed, half dust.

Her ears were ragged and marked by the many times she held her paws over her ears, trying to ignore the ghosts.

Her legs were criss-crossed with scars left when she panicked, digging her claws in without knowing it (holding herself so tightly it hurt).

Her ribs became visible because she couldn't bare to eat after....

And her personality...that was the worst change. She never smiled again, not even by a fraction. She was never loud or talkative again--except when she screeched at nothing to go away. Instead, she muttered to herself.

Her family and Clan wanted nothing more than to comfort her, to hold her and tell her that, whatever happened, everything would be okay. They regretted ever telling her to leave them alone--even the ones that said it nicely--they just wanted her to annoy them again.

But at the same time they were scared, because the last time one of them tried to approach her, Gorsedaisy had swung her claws inches from their throat. They tried to groom her messy fur, but even a soft touch set Gorsedaisy off. They tried just speaking with her, but even when they whispered, she would hiss that it was too much. That it was too loud.

(As well as generally it being the trauma, I imagine that when the Wooden Teeth family died, they deliberately tormented her more when someone was trying to calm her down just so that she would act out more).

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I went easy on myself with the designs, so the markings may not be perfect! Plus I went with the styles of the bases.

For the second one I thought it would be neat if pre-Nightmare Gorsedaisy had rounder spots to symbolize her innocence

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Bases will be added when my computer charges and I can link them!

“So, medicine cat, eh?” Redjay settled beside his grandson, who had snuck out of the nursery and kept to the shadows of the camp wall to avoid being shooed back in or be seen talking to air.

Myrtlekit nodded enthusiastically. He had told Hickoryskip his decision earlier that day, and guessed that either Redjay or another of his family had seen the discussion. “A good choice, right?”

Redjay made a doubtful grunt. “Are you sure it’s the path for you? You have a bloodlust in you, little one, battles are a good way to quench the thirst.”

“But it’s so mindless,” Myrtlekit responded, pulling his mouth to one side. “Slashing around is fun, but it’ll get boring in time, right? And what am I gonna do when there’s no war for moons?”

His grandfather grinned, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Aw, so mind games has piqued your interest, has it?” His smile dropped. “But you’ll have to target the weak, and you’re better than that. Stronger than that.”

Anger clawed Myrtlekit’s chest. “I’m no coward! If they’re not weak, I’ll make them weak, then I’ll make them all beg for mercy and give them none!”

Redjay’s eyes sparked. A ring of energy seemed to shoot through his body, lifting his fur in enthusiasm. “Oh, the fire in you, my little one!” He tilted his head, so far it almost looked like the bones inside had split apart. “I suppose I do see the benefits. Herbs and poison right by your paws, to be used at your disposal…”

“Trusted by my Clanmates and leader,” Myrtlekit added, remembering Bella-May’s advice.

“StarClan won’t rat on you, because you’ll be their messenger.” Redjay’s grin was returning.

“Gorsedaisy will hate it.” Myrtlekit spat the name. The elderly medicine cat had never liked him, and wasn’t shy on making her thoughts clear. 

Redjay’s eyes darkened. “Indeed she will. The Clan knows she’s lost her petals. Ha! They’ll trust you more than her!” Redjay’s whole body shook. “I can just imagine what she’d say! ‘No! Please don’t let him become a medicine cat! He’s evil, I tell you! Evil!’”

Myrtlekit pressed his paw to his muzzle, stifling the laughter that threatened to choke him, his shoulders shaking as he struggled to breathe. The impression Redjay made was perfect. For a second, he thought that Gorsedaisy really had spoken. Sure, it was a little dramatic in its mockery, but the idea was still clear. “Do it again, do it again!” He prompted.

Redjay did so, though he had to control his own chuckles before he could speak again.  “‘You’re all fools! Fools! I guess I’ll speak to you when you get to StarClan, because that’s where the lot of you will end up, mark my words!”

Myrtlekit burst out in a fit of open laughter, rolling onto his side until he gasped for air. “One more!”

“Myrtlekit, what are you doing out here?” Myrtlekit whipped around to face Grebeglade, his aunt, who had been on guard duty. “What’s got you so amused?”

Myrtlekit looked over his shoulder. Redjay’s spirit had already disappeared. “I saw a frog jump on a squirrel, and I thought it was really funny!” 

Grebeglade looked around. Her whiskers twitched, and she blinked at him with warm amusement. “Must have been a dream. Go back to your mother, alright? You could freeze out here.”

“Okay, I will!” Myrtlekit told her, and bounded back to the nursery. His fur still buzzed as he settled in the nest beside Blacksong, and the smile remained on his face as he fell into the darkness of sleep.

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--Probably one of the cutest stories we'll ever see of Myrtlwing.

--I like to think that Redjay does his mimicry often for the amusement of the little ones.

@ambitiousauthor

And with Gorsedaisy's ghost thing, what if we go further? Cause I suggested before that, due to all the trauma she was put through and the visions she was given without the ability to do anything about them, she rejects StarClan and lives as a ghost walking among the living.

Now, where can we connect to canon there?

What if she still communicates with StarClan when she thinks it's necessary?

She knew that Myrtlewing would have always been evil, but Alderstar fell on his dark path because of him. Perhaps she thinks there's a connection between loving someone as a medicine cat. Or, really, anything that reminds her of her tormenters, she wants to bury deep beneath the earth, and as time went on and she became more and more obsessed, she also began to lose herself. Nothing else mattered than protecting the Clans from those who could hurt it--even if, unintentionally, her decisions is what hurts it.

To go canon, Spottedleaf had a rather odd change from 'follow your heart' to 'what have you done, you idiot?' One might be able to explain it as someone speaking with Spottedleaf between these moments and...strongly encouraging a change.

@ambitiousauthor calls the shots with Gorsy girl, so I'll propose them an idea: Gorsedaisy rejects Starclan (staying around enough to give her close family and mentor and apprentice heart-felt good-byes) but also rejects the Dark Forest (somehow).

Maybe she lives a life as a ghost on earth?

I also imagine her trying to stop future bad cats somehow. Like living as a ghost guardian?

Like maybe she's the one that convinced that one Starclan cat to imply to Pinestar to kill his son before he becomes evil (and hell if you want to make her really dark, say that Tiger got sick and Tiger's sisters and Broken's sisters died as a result of her trying to kill the sons).

--

bases by Supurrnovae on DeviantArt

Myrtle's colours are slightly darker since he's a newborn

Cats raced toward the camp entrance. Sedgeshell hissed at them, pushing them back. “Give her space, for Starclan’s sake!”

“How did you find her?” Bluefeather, Gorsedaisy’s brother, asked. His tail twitched with nerves and impatience. He was looking over Sedgeshell’s head, waiting for his sister.

“She found us!” Lightpaw chirped from his mentor’s side. 

“Where has she been?” Stormfleck inquired. 

Cuckoostar pushed through the crowd and stopped in front of Sedgeshell. “Is she okay?”

“We don’t know,” Sedgeshell admitted. “We saw her heading for the camp, but I’m not sure if she knew where she was. She looked dazed, and she was bleeding. Aspentalon, Oatflight, and Drizzlespots are bringing her now.”

“Back up more, then!” Hickoryskip snapped. “She’ll need a clear path right to our den. And don’t go asking her questions until I’ve checked her over!”

Marblegaze held her breath. She returned to the nursery, curling around her kits whilst never taking her eyes off of the entrance. After Redjay’s betrayal and murders and the flood that had swept through all the territories, the Clan needed a miracle. Thank you, Starclan, for guiding Gorsedaisy back to us. 

The leaves began to rustle. Her head shot up, watching intently. Oatflight padded out. Her ears were twitching and she seemed alarmed. Brokenpaw followed her. Behind them was Gorsedaisy and the rest of the patrol. 

Marblegaze couldn’t hold back the gasp that had escaped her. Gorsedaisy’s fur stuck out in wet clumps in every direction. Her lighter spots were stained darker, almost unnoticeable against her black pelt. Marblegaze was too far to tell if it was muck or blood, and she was shocked to see singed fur on the end of her tail, surrounding red skin. How had she been burned during a flood? Sorrowfully, she took in the scars that marred the medicine cat’s face as she was led to her den. In spite of Hickoryskip’s warning, she desperately wanted to embrace Gorsedaisy, to listen to what on earth happened to her and make all the pain go away. 

It was not at all how Marblegaze had been expecting Gorsedaisy’s return to be like. She would be joking, ask the Clan if they really thought that Starclan would allow such a great medicine cat to die. She would be glad to be back to the Clan, of course, perhaps share prey with them as celebration for her return, maybe put aside her duties for the rest of the day and play a kit-like game with the younger warriors. She was not supposed to be…. 

She had looked so wrong. A wet, red-tinge that reflected what Marblegaze could only call horror glazed over her darkened, empty eyes. What had happened to her? Stars, what had happened to her?

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