#puddlekit

Oilstripe watched Downstar and Rustshade quietly share tongues below the Shiprock as she steadied her nerves. Would Downstar be annoyed if Oilstripe interrupted? She knew Downstar spent the most time with Rustshade when her mood was low (Duskkit kept her up one night complaining about it), was now a good time? It had to be. Oilstripe couldn’t wait much longer.

“Dad?” Oilstripe said, approaching the two founders. “Do you have a minute to talk with me?” Rustshade paused with his tongue on Downstar’s ear.

“What about?” Rustshade asked. Oilstripe hesitated as Downstar’s sharp amber eyes studied her ginger pelt.

“I can explain in private,” Oilstripe finally said. Rustshade brushed his tail against Downstar and got up. Downstar silently slunk back to her den. Duskkit’s spirit peeked out from the nursery and ran into the leader’s den. Rustshade followed Oilstripe’s gaze but could not see the star speckled kit. 

Oilstripe led Rustshade around the Shiprock and said “I’m taking Carnationspeckle out hunting, and I need you to do me a favor. Can you find Rattlepelt a few minutes after we leave and follow us?”

“Why would I do that?” Rustshade huffed.

“I’d feel bad if she didn’t get to see this,” Oilstripe admitted. “Carnation told me the reason she always asks for both of us to help her with her tasks is because she wants us to be mates. She should get to see Carnation’s reaction.” It took a moment for Rustshade’s mind to catch up with Oilstripe’s implication.

“You want to make your relationship official?” Rustshade hummed.

“I think it’s time,” Oilstripe said with a stiff nod. 

“Stars right, it's about time!” Applepelt’s shimmering spirit cheered from the top of Shiprock. Oilstripe flinched as Applepelt chanted, “My friends are becoming mates! My friends are becoming mates!”

“More ghostly advice?” Rustshade asked, glancing in Applepelt’s direction. “If StarClan is excited for you, then I’m happy for you. I’ll bring Rattlepelt. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes, Dad,” Oilstripe said as the object of Oilstripe’s affections shifted in the corner of her eye. Carnationspeckle played with the kits outside the nursery, giving James a break (the ginger tom looked like he’d been tossed through a thunderstorm and dried with a bolt of lightning). 

Palekit snuggled with James while Puddlekit and Waspkit tried to drag Carnationspeckle down. 

“If you’re sure, you’re sure,” Rustshade hummed, spotting Carnationspeckle. “Good luck, Oilstripe.” Oilstripe shook the sand out of her pelt and marched up to the nursery. She only got part way to Carnationspeckle before tiny fangs dug into her ankle. Oilstripe yelped and stumbled forward. Ripplekit giggled underneath her, batting the long strands of fur that dangled from Oilstripe’s belly.

“She’s going to be good in a fight!” Carnationspeckle giggled.

“Are you too busy?” Oilstripe asked, trying to get Ripplekit out from under her. The quick kit kept darting back under her belly.

“It’s as though they feed on each other!” Carnationspeckle laughed as Lavenderkit appeared behind her and grabbed onto her tail. “They just keep going!”

“Sleep is for kits!” Lavenderkit yowled, jaw tight around Carnationspeckle’s tail.

“But we are kits,” Puddlekit pointed out, slipping off Carnationspeckle’s head.

“I can wait until you’re finished,” Oilstripe promised as the greedy little kit in her head screamed at the injustice of it all.

“I can watch the kits.” Downstar left her den, Duskkit hovering behind her. Downstar grabbed Waspkit by the scruff and lifted him off Carnationspeckle.

“Really?” Carnationspeckle said with wide eyes. 

“I could use some time with the next generation,” Downstar chuckled. Duskkit trotted past Oilstripe with her tail held high. Oilstripe playfully flicked a paw at Duskkit while all eyes were on Downstar. Duskkit laughed and charged out of camp, vanishing with a twinkle.

“Downstar, Downstar!” Ripplekit cheered, pouncing on the tortoiseshell leader as she took Carnationspeckle’s spot outside the nursery. “Do you want to hear what Scrubmask taught me?”

“Please share,” Downstar purred. All five of Weedfoot’s kits swarmed Downstar while Carnationspeckle crept up to Oilstripe.

“Since you’re free now,” Oilstripe chuckled, licking her bitten ankle, “can we go hunting together? I found a patch of trees where the squirrels love to play.”

“Oh, alright,” Carnationspeckle purred, “but may I suggest we head to the ocean? I’d love to show you some of the diving techniques I’ve been practicing. I’m hoping to teach the kits what I can do once they’re apprenticed!”

“I don’t think I want to get wet right now,” Oilstripe admitted as Applepelt stuck their face between the pair. Their ethereal eyes sparkled as they bounced between Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle. Oilstripe tried to pretend she didn’t see her old friend and instead led Carnationspeckle toward the camp exit. As she did, however, she could see Rustshade speaking with Rattlepelt beside her tanning rack. Oilstripe forced back a purr.

It wouldn’t be long before sunhigh hit, but the dappled shade of the conifers kept Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle cool. The smell of prey blanketed the mossy floor, although large human tracks left deep prints in the warm dirt. Applepelt appeared and disappeared from between the tree, battering Oilstripe with wild rambles. Oilstripe could barely keep an eye on the prey with all of Applepelt’s cheering.

“I had a feeling you would get together,” Applepelt purred as Oilstripe stalked a pair of playful squirrels. “I don’t simply mean as long as I’ve been dead, either. I joined the Clan and saw you two together and knew you would be a wonderful pairing! Then again, I imagined I would be there to celebrate. I suppose in a way I am here, though. You’re simply the only one who can hear me celebrate!” Oilstripe pounced on one of the happy squirrels. Its partner scurried away as the unfortunate critter stopped squirming.

“I hereby bless this catch!” Applepelt laughed as Carnationspeckle trotted up.

“Applepelt, please, I can’t hear my own thoughts right now,” Oilstripe finally snapped, dropping her squirrel. “If you’re going to be here, can you watch from the side, quietly?”

“Applepelt’s here?” Carnationspeckle gasped. “Hello, Applepelt! I’ve missed you. I hope StarClan is treating you well.” Carnationspeckle guessed where Applepelt stood, but looked about a tail-length off from where the dead cat actually was.

“It is, thank you Carnationspeckle,” Applepelt purred, bowing slightly to her old friend.

“Stars, I’m sorry,” Oilstripe groaned. “It must be weird to hear me talking to the dead like this. I try not to when others are around.”

“I think it’s amazing that you can speak to StarClan as easily as you speak to me,” Carnationspeckle sighed. Applepelt’s face grew still and oddly serene as she stepped back. Copper and heather eyes glinted from the other side of the brush behind Carnationspeckle. “What do they talk to you about?”

“Well, typically they visit to check on those they’ve left behind,” Oilstripe explained, whiskers twitching. She licked drops of squirrel blood off her muzzle. “When I see them and I’m alone, I like to ask them about their lives. It’s not the sort of prophetic, supernatural knowledge they have to be careful with, so they’re happy to share their stories with me.”

“That must be wonderful, knowing what StarClan does in the territories like that,” Carnationspeckle hummed. She shifted awkwardly, glancing at where she thought Applepelt stood, and asked, “Do they talk about me at all? Do they watch over me?”

“As much as anyone else, I suppose,” Oilstripe admitted. She left her squirrel on the sun dappled grass and sat closer to Carnationspeckle.

“Do your ancestors visit you?” Carnationspeckle asked. “Rustshade’s parents, your littermates, Sunstrike?” Oilstripe rubbed a paw deeper into the grass.

“I haven’t seen Sunstrike at all,” Oilstripe muttered. “I don’t know where she is. Locustseeker and Twinekit don’t like to talk about her. I think she’s ignoring me.”

“Sometimes I feel the same way about StarClan as a whole,” Carnationspeckle sighed. Her fur drooped with her whiskers as she stared downwards. “I’ve been in RippleClan since the beginning, but I haven’t done anything amazing like you or Downstar or anyone else. I’ve just minded the camp. StarClan would rather put their efforts towards the heroes than the campbodies, I imagine.” 

Oilstripe pressed her nose into the soft fluff of Carnationspeckle’s neck. The brown molly gasped softly as Oilstripe gently groomed her fur.

“You’re already a hero, Carnation,” Oilstripe assured her. “You don’t need to speak to ghosts or come back to life to be one. I’ve never met a kinder molly, or anyone I would rather share my life or nest with. That’s enough for me.” Carnationspeckle met Oilstripe’s eyes. She didn’t breathe. 

“You want to be mates?” Carnationspeckle whispered.

“I already feel like your mate,” Oilstripe laughed, tucking her tail over Carnationspeckle’s, “so could we make it official? I want to put you first the way you put everyone else first.” Carnationspeckle nodded furiously as a soft whine built inside her.

“I would really like that,” Carnationspeckle cried. She pressed into Oilstripe as hard as she could. Oilstripe pressed back, wrapping around her new mate. Applepelt stood to the side, beaming like the brightest star in Silverpelt.

“Have fun, you two,” she chuckled. Oilstripe blinked, and all that remained of Applepelt was a shimmer of stardust dangling in the warm, still air.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Oilstripe laughed into Carnationspeckle’s ear, “but I had my father bring a witness. Come out, Rattlepelt.” 

Carnationspeckle gasped and pulled away as Rattlepelt and Rustshade stepped out of the brush. Rattlepelt wore the fox pelt covering she and Rabbitjoy had collected from Wildclaw’s unfortunate victim moons ago, but it nearly fell off as Rattlepelt ran to Carnationspeckle.

“You’re going to be so happy together,” Rattlepelt purred, rubbing against Carnationspeckle. Carnationspeckle laughed through her joyful cries and groomed Rattlepelt’s face. Oilstripe joined in, sharing tongues with both of her new family members. Their deep purrs scared away any ghostly worries that swam through Oilstripe’s mind.

(Oilstripe: 40, female, historian, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Rustshade: 80, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Downstar: 95, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Duskkit: 4, female, kit, troublesome, quick witted)

(Applepelt: 31, she/they, historian, rebellious, lore keeper)

(Carnationspeckle: 38, female, caretaker compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(James: 112, male, caretaker, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Palekit: 2, male, kit, impulsive, picky nest builder)

(Waspkit: 2, male, kit, bossy, interested in clan history)

(Puddlekit: 2, male, kit, polite, morbid curiosity, oddly observant)

(Ripplekit: 2, male, kit, know-it-all, avid play-fighter, splashes in puddles)

(Lavenderkit: 2, male, kit, noisy, likes to sing)

(Rattlepelt: 19, female, artisan, fierce, leather artist)

Shadowdrop is happy to find his body finally pain free. Yet he watches Carnationspeckle’s celebration from afar, thinking of what could have been. Weedfoot tries to comfort him to no avail.

[Image ID: Weedfoot faces Shadowdrop, who watches a crowd surrounding Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle in the back. Under Shadowdrop, it says - CONDITION: BROKEN BONE. Under Weedfoot, it says - CONDITION: BLOOD LOSS.]

(Shadowdrop: 28, male, codekeeper, sneaky, good teacher, eloquent speaker)