Just brief updates for non-story related interactions
Frostcurl and Kelpjay go fishing together, Kelpjay is impressed by the amount of prey he caught. Frostcurl enjoys chatting with kelpjay about crafting and clan folklore.
Mallowstripe shows Briarpaw how to make oil from fish. It’s very thin and cloying, Briarpaw has to wash her paws several times afterwards. The entire camp smells delicious.
Shadowdive employs Sunfrost’s help on an excursion for the kits. They take Jaggedkit and Moonkit— respectively— out for a swim in the gentle waves. Morningkit is still not ready to get in the water and watches from shore.
Thistle takes the apprentices and young warriors to the site of the fire and shows them how to spot hollow ground under the ash. The group learns how the roots of tress and grass hold the dirt together and without it the land is unstable but not inaccessible.
Moonkit practices singing a song but mixes up the words, making her audience uncomfortable.
Dropletshine was seen hanging around the HoneyClan border, waiting for a certain cat.
Coralheart has started seeking advice from other clan mediators— with little success.
Snowspeckle spots a badger making a set on Duskclan’s lands and waits for a patrol to alert them, but none pass by and she must return home.
Nightleap has been very critical of Honeyclan lately and warns the clan against becoming too close with them.
Cherrytail and Sunfrost take the kits out to a grassy field to chase fire flies.
The Longest Day festival is awkward, Wolfstar decides not to bring up the altercation her clan witness between Honeyclan and Oakclan. She notices Honeyclan only sent a pawful of cats and the festivities only last half a day before cats begin slinking home. The last clan remaining in the gathering place is Oakclan.
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Hello! I am always sooo happy when you post updates, I love the story and your writing style! I especially love the rhythm you put into it. And the characters are sooo well written! Not losing hope for the one that is currently missing (I momentarily forgot his name) to come back!! If only because the reactions would be soooo interesting.
I have a 55 minutes timer for my Tumblr app (I'd lose HOURS here otherwise) and it's always a joy to know some of those minutes are dedicated to reading updates.
I hope the rest of the week will be kind to you! Thank you for sharing your writing with us :D
I wish I had your level of willpower
No but truly thank you for your kind words! I put so much of myself into these cats and I’m just so happy others can see them how I do.
Rippleclaw getting taken was truly my worst moon playing the game and I wanted to reroll soooooo bad but I was determined to somehow make it work despite how much I hated it.
Do you think Frostcurl and Pantherpaw would/ could be friends once Pantherpaw's mental state is better? I could see them being buds
Currently? No not a chance.
Frostcurl is still pretty argumentative with toms and he’s not fully assimilated to clan life yet. He’s loud and confident and occasionally wrong, he’s not the kind to double down when proven wrong but I think his opinionated self rubs pantherpaw the wrong way. Day to day interactions are short and neutral to negative at first. Panther prefers to be alone so he spends most of his camp time either in the apprentice den or high up on the rock walls. Frost however is very social and active, he also has the freedom to leave camp and roam which Panther is very envious of but that’s not specific to Frost. The times they do actually speak are probably Frostcurl trying to teach him something; only for Panther to either already know the lesson or Frost is completely wrong and has to be corrected. They don’t really argue or fight, but they aren’t on good enough terms to converse beyond what’s necessary. We’re more likely to see them fight than have a civil chat.
In the future? Yeah maybe.
No spoilers here but if Frost could learn to chill out on the machismo and Panther learns how to regulate his discomfort and anger….then yeah they could easily be good pals. This is a lot of effort and time on both ends tho so we may never see them be BFFS but I think both can grow mutual respect for the other.
Okay so there’s not gonna be a part 4 to moon 28 bc it’s already so long but I am gonna post some interlude snippets just going over what each non-story relevant cat went through for that month.
I would’ve included more but genuinely I was running out of space already. That’ll be either today or tomorrow.
Warnings for this chapter, disturbing and disjointed thoughts, paranoia, isolation, disembodied voices, and delusion.
The darkness breathed with her.
Or maybe she breathed with it.
Leopardpaw couldn’t tell anymore.
⸻
“You feel it too, don’t you? How fragile they are.”
The voice roused her again.
“You were built for distance. For hunger. For war.”
You’re so familiar.
“They can’t keep up with you.”
She tried to open her mouth, but—
“They’re made of flesh and bone.”
Nothing came out.
“You were made to outlast.”
Darkness folded over her again.
⸻
“Easy now. Don’t fight it.”
The voice was closer this time.
“You’re burning yourself up trying to stand.”
Her limbs twitched weakly against the floor.
“Rest. I’ll keep watch.”
Am I dead?
A low sound. Almost amused.
“You were always going to find your way here.”
Is this StarClan?
No answer.
Only breathing.
⸻
She could lift her head briefly.
“The others pretend not to notice what you are.”
What am I?
“I knew what you’d become the moment I saw you.”
Something in her chest twisted.
⸻
“You pace when you can’t sleep.”
How do you know that?
⸻
“Poor thing. You pushed yourself too hard again.”
Her head wouldn’t lift. Her eyes blinked lazily against the gloom.
“Do you hear the water?”
I can’t. I know you know I can’t.
A pause.
“No. You can’t.”
The words settled heavily against her ribs.
⸻
Mom?
Silence.
Then—
“I could pick you out from a hundred cats.”
Her breath caught painfully.
Mom!
But the darkness only breathed back at her.
⸻
“It’s sad how hard you try.”
Her whiskers twitched weakly.
She could roll to her stomach now.
“I thought this would be effortless for you.”
Am I dying?
“You think those clans made you?”
She didn’t bother trying to sit up.
“You’ll never be soft enough for cats like them.”
Come closer and say that.
Pawsteps somewhere to her left.
“I’ll miss you. After all of this.”
⸻
“Don’t worry.”
The voice had gone quiet now. Certain.
“I know exactly what you are.”
How?
“You felt it long before you met me.”
Felt what?
“That something was wrong.”
Her claws scraped uselessly against the floor.
“That you were different.”
⸻
“I should kill you, you know?”
She growled, low in her throat.
“You forest cats-“
Warriors.
“Whatever you call yourselves, you owe me a life.”
She stayed silent, in her mind and her throat.
A paw placed itself on the back of her neck.
“One of yours took two of mine.”
The dark felt heavy, she could feel a hint of claws.
Despite herself, she trembled.
“Of course those cats mean little to me.”
The paw lifted.
She let out a shaky breath.
“I wonder…”
It didn’t finish that thought.
⸻
“You know why they stare.”
They don’t.
“You know why they hesitate around you.”
They don’t!
She shifted to her feet.
“You shrink yourself to make them comfortable.”
She wrenched her head toward the voice.
“I would never.”
Her paws gave out under her.
“I wouldn’t ask that of you.”
⸻
“You’re thinking clearly now. Good.”
Am I?
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
She huffed weakly, whiskers twitching.
“Tell me you’ve ever truly felt like one of them.”
Silence stretched.
Long enough to hurt.
She slipped back into darkness.
⸻
When she woke again, she could finally push off her stomach.
Barely.
“You think rage makes you monstrous?”
Her paws trembled beneath her weight.
“It makes you whole.”
The words hit harder now that her mind was clear enough to understand them.
“Anything else would be beneath you.”
Her legs gave out beneath her.
⸻
This time she woke before the voice spoke.
The room was quieter now.
The dark smaller somehow.
“Sooner or later, you’ll get tired of pretending.”
She forced herself upward.
“The clans only love what they understand.”
You know nothing about my clan.
“And they do not understand you.”
Her paws buckled. Her chin struck the floor hard enough to ache.
“They don’t want to.”
She hissed through her teeth.
A soft sound answered her.
Almost fond.
“When they finally fear you, remember who warned you first.”
Then silence.
And for the first time since the false sun went out—
the voice did not come back.
By dawn, the last patrols finally returned.
One by one they stumbled through the camp entrance— soot-stained, smoke clinging stubbornly to their pelts. Their heads hung low with exhaustion and shame.
And every patrol came back empty-pawed.
Pantherpaw sat rigid near the center of camp as Wolfstar and Shadowdive emerged from the tunnel leading toward the eastern forest. They’d been gone the longest.
Wolfstar’s paws dragged slightly with every step. Ash dulled her pale fur, and Shadowdive’s chest rose and fell heavily beneath soot-blackened whiskers.
No one followed behind them.
Leopardpaw was still missing.
At the sight of them, Nighthowl broke.
A raw cry tore from her throat as she staggered forward.
“I’m sorry, Nighthowl,” Wolfstar said quietly, eyes glassy with failure. “There’s still no trace of her.”
Shadowdive stepped close to Pantherpaw instead, lowering his head near the apprentice’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, paw,” He murmured roughly. “I tried.”
Pantherpaw didn’t answer.
His gaze remained fixed on the distant ocean beyond camp, where pale dawn light shimmered weakly across the waves.
“Pantherpaw?”
Dropletshine’s voice came carefully beside him. “You should try to sleep.”
He finally looked at her.
She hesitated beneath the weight of his stare, then swallowed hard and continued gently. “Let’s get your mother to her nest, she needs to rest.”
He let her guide him silently.
Nighthowl stumbled against his side the entire way, sobbing openly into his shoulder fur. He fought back a a traitorous shudder.
Dropletshine had stayed behind during the searches, watching over the kits and the injured while the others combed the burned forest.
It was the first time they’d spoken since his outburst at the graveyard.
The awkwardness lingered between them like fog.
It took a long while for Nighthowl to settle.
Even curled into her nest she continued rambling tearfully against Pantherpaw’s neck—half memories, half prayers, stories about Leopardpaw as a kit tumbling through tidepools and half muttered songs.
Several cats stopped by quietly.
Briefly.
Thistle left behind a cup of calming tea from lynxdawn.
Eventually the tea softened the sharpest edges of her grief enough for exhaustion to drag her under.
Pantherpaw remained awake beside her.
Carefully, he rasped his tongue through her scruffy fur.
The strange buzzing beneath his skin eased slightly with the repetitive motion.
Not enough.
So he hummed.
Softly at first.
Then louder.
Old nursery songs. Tide songs. Half-forgotten melodies from kithood.
The buzzing quieted further beneath the vibrations in his chest.
“You’re doing good with her.”
Pantherpaw’s fur twitched immediately.
Wolfstar stood at the den entrance.
She looked exhausted.
Her eyes were rimmed red, fur still stained with soot.
Still, she offered him a faint, tired smile.
“You’d make a good cleric,” She murmured. “Or nurse.”
Pantherpaw snorted softly and looked away.
Wolfstar’s smile faltered immediately.
“Sorry,” She said quietly. “I wasn’t trying to assign you a new role. I just…” Her gaze drifted briefly toward the sleeping Nighthowl. “I wanted to check on you both.”
Pantherpaw hesitated.
Then muttered. “You should leave before she wakes up.”
Wolfstar flinched.
The reaction was enough that guilt twisted sharply in his stomach.
“You know how she feels about you.” He added more quietly.
Wolfstar lowered her gaze.
“I know,” She admitted after a moment. “I never meant to make it worse.”
Her voice sounded smaller than usual.
“But this is still my clan,” She continued softly. “I care about all of you.”
Pantherpaw swallowed hard.
I’ve done enough damage already, he thought.
So he said nothing.
After a long silence, Wolfstar dipped her head slightly.
“If either of you need anything,” she said, “send for me.”
Then she left.
Her pawsteps faded slowly into the waking camp beyond.
The moment she disappeared, the buzzing returned full force beneath Pantherpaw’s skin.
His muscles twitched sharply.
Too tight.
Too loud.
Carefully disentangling himself from Nighthowl, he slipped from the den.
The camp felt wrong in morning light.
Too quiet for how many cats were out.
A few glanced toward him as he crossed camp, so Pantherpaw kept moving without stopping at the prey pile.
He headed instead toward the apprentice den.
Maybe there’d be something inside to chew on. A branch. Driftwood. Anything.
But the moment he entered, the scent hit him.
Leopardpaw.
Fresh enough to hurt.
Pantherpaw froze beside the empty nest.
Then suddenly lunged forward.
His teeth buried into his own moss bedding viciously.
He tore into it hard enough to scatter shredded moss across the den floor. Claws hooked into the nest while his jaws worked furiously, ripping and shredding until bits of dried feathers clung to his whiskers.
It helped.
Barely.
By the time he stopped, his breathing had steadied slightly.
The buzzing dulled into something manageable again.
Panting softly, Pantherpaw stared down at the ruined remains of his nest.
Then his gaze drifted sideways.
To Leopardpaw’s untouched bedding beside it.
Still perfectly shaped.
Still waiting.
His chest tightened painfully.
Slowly, Pantherpaw circled once before laying down atop the shredded remains of his own nest.
And beside him, Leopardpaw’s stayed empty.
One moment there was darkness.
Then—
Light.
A harsh white glow burned above her, too bright and cold to be the sun.
Leopardpaw squeezed her eyes shut with a rasping hiss.
When she opened them again, the light was still there.
It hummed.
Or perhaps her ears were ringing.
The den was wrong.
Its walls were smooth.
Its corners too sharp.
Strange things stood around her, stacked higher than any cat could climb, their scents dry and stale until they clogged her nose.
Dust.
Old wood.
Twolegs.
Her stomach twisted so violently she folded in on herself.
It hurt.
Everything hurt.
She staggered upright anyway.
One paw.
Then another.
The ground shifted beneath her.
Or perhaps she did.
There’s…
The memory surfaced through the haze.
…always…
Wolfstar’s voice.
Soft.
Steady.
…an exit.
Leopardpaw lurched toward the nearest towering shape and shoved.
Nothing.
Again.
A loud crack echoed through the den.
Something toppled.
She flinched, expecting the voice.
Nothing answered.
Her breathing came harder.
Another shove.
Something narrow and wooden wobbled.
She threw herself against it.
The crash rang through the den.
Then—
Warmth.
Real warmth.
A line of sunlight spilled across the floor.
She stared.
The light was moving.
No.
She was.
She crawled toward it.
Fresh air struck her face.
She collapsed through the opening into dry dirt.
Heat soaked into her aching limbs.
She lay there, panting, unable to tell whether she’d escaped or only dreamed she had.
The world bent strangely around her.
The sky rippled.
The grass breathed.
She blinked hard.
It stayed still.
Barely.
Her nose lifted.
Carrion.
Twolegs.
Cats.
Smoke.
Salt.
Home.
Not home.
Her thoughts scattered before she could catch them.
A cough tore through her chest.
It felt as though she’d swallowed fire.
Her throat burned.
Every breath scraped.
She tucked her paws beneath herself.
The sun beat mercilessly against her smoke-blackened pelt.
Her tongue felt too large for her mouth.
Dry.
Everything was dry.
Move.
The word barely felt like her own.
Move.
Behind her—
A crack.
A snapping branch.
Or paws.
Or the voice.
She didn’t look.
She ran.
If it could be called running.
The ground lurched beneath her paws.
She stumbled over roots she couldn’t see.
Dry brush clawed at her sides.
The salt scent drifted somewhere ahead.
Or behind.
She couldn’t tell.
She followed it anyway.
Every few strides another coughing fit doubled her over.
When she could breathe again, she kept moving.
Her legs no longer belonged to her.
They simply continued because stopping felt worse.
She called out once.
Only a ragged wheeze escaped.
Again.
A broken cry.
No answer.
Or perhaps there had been.
The wind carried voices.
The voice.
Many voices.
She couldn’t separate them.
Time unraveled.
The sun climbed.
Or perhaps it fell.
Her paws carried her through patches of blackened earth and brittle grass without her noticing.
Then—
Salt.
Real salt.
Hope struck her so suddenly it hurt.
Home.
She tried to call again.
The cry tore itself apart in her throat.
One forepaw buckled.
Then the other.
The world tilted.
Dirt rushed up to meet her.
Darkness caught her before the ground did.
“Where was she?” Lynxdawn meowed.
The medicine den filled with shuffling paws against leather floors.
“Beside the border. I don’t know for how long,” Wolfstar answered, voice tight. “She couldn’t have been there long. We’d have found her days ago.”
The cleric didn’t respond, working in silence as she pressed and prodded over the apprentice.
“How is she?” Wolfstar asked.
Leopardpaw lay sprawled across a nest—one Ottersplash had only just vacated after nearly tripping over himself to give his apprentice room.
“She’s weak.” Lynxdawn finally looked up from her patient. The weight of the den seemed to settle across her shoulders. “I doubt she had any food or water while she was gone. But she has no burns. As long as the smoke damage clears, she should recover within half a moon.”
Thistle stepped forward, setting down a large jar.
“Mullein bulbs. Dried.”
“Good. Fetch me hot water and heather honey.”
The caretaker dipped her head and hurried away.
Wolfstar lingered near the entrance, half watching Lynxdawn work and half keeping the rest of the clan from crowding inside.
“Can I see her?” Nighthowl pleaded, pushing her way forward, her son close to her side.
Wolfstar’s gaze softened as it flicked between her and Pantherpaw.
“Let’s let Lynxdawn finish first.”
Pantherpaw gently steered his mother away from the den, giving his new mentor a firm nod as Thistle brushed past them.
Nighthowl allowed herself to be led away, a shaky breath hitching in her throat as they stepped back into the fading sunlight.
It had been Wolfstar who spotted Leopardpaw.
Pantherpaw had been only a half-step behind her.
They’d been patrolling the ashen remains of the forest, searching for any clue as to where Leopardpaw might have gone. The gray wasteland left behind by the fire—and soaked by the Twolegs’ water monsters—held almost no scent.
As the patrol drifted east, toward the line of Twoleg nests claimed by the Jellicles, Wolfstar had suddenly frozen.
Leopardpaw’s grey coat had nearly blended in with the remains of the forest, it was only the gentle rise and fall of her ribs that gave her away.
“She must’ve hidden somewhere,” Nighthowl murmured. “When it happened.”
Her voice pulled Pantherpaw back to the present.
“But how did she find her way back?”
He didn’t answer.
Nighthowl turned toward him, her eyes wide and hopeful.
“What does Wolfstar think?”
Pantherpaw swallowed a grimace and looked toward the setting sun instead.
“We found a Twoleg nest near the border. Half of it was burned.”
They stopped beside the tide pools.
“The kittypets there said a Twoleg cooking fire started the blaze.” His tail twitched. “One of them saw Leopardpaw run into the flames. She must’ve gotten trapped.”
“Did they see how she got out?”
He shook his head, lips curling up.
“No. They were probably too busy escaping the fire.”
The words came out sharper than he’d intended.
Nighthowl flinched.
Immediately guilt settled in his stomach like a stone.
“So she didn’t start the fire?” She asked quietly, shifting away by little more than a whisker’s length.
The distance felt impossible to cross.
“No.”
The answer came after a pause.
Then, softer:
“Wolfstar said herself that she couldn’t have.”
That finally drew a smile from Nighthowl, though it still looked fragile.
Pantherpaw tried again.
“She also said that if Leopardpaw’s well enough, we can both go to the next Gathering.”
He made an effort to soften his voice.
To sound excited.
Nighthowl brightened immediately.
“Oh! Your first Gathering.” A purr rumbled in her throat. “How exciting. I pray she’s well enough by then.”
Pantherpaw nodded.
The guilt still tugged at him, prickling beneath his pelt and making his shoulders twitch with restless energy.
But some of the tension eased from his chest.
A little.
The sun slipped lower, staining the sea gold and crimson.
Neither of them spoke again.
Together they sat beside the tide pools, waiting as daylight faded into night, while behind them Lynxdawn worked to pull Leopardpaw back from whatever nightmare she’d wandered through.
It was just before dawn when Wolfstar nudged Pantherpaw’s shoulder with a gentle paw.
He jolted awake.
For a heartbeat, his heart pounded before his mind caught up. Camp wasn’t under attack.
Beside him, Briarpaw only shifted in her sleep, snoring softly through the interruption.
Pantherpaw couldn’t help the flicker of envy as he climbed stiffly to his paws.
Wolfstar was already padding toward the entrance.
Without a word, he followed.
Camp lay wrapped in the blue-gray light before sunrise. Most of SaltClan still slept, the only sounds the distant crash of waves and the quiet murmur of the tide against the cliffs. The air was cool now, but Greenleaf’s heat already lingered beneath it, promising another sweltering day.
Pantherpaw fixed his gaze on Wolfstar’s tail, forcing himself to wake with every step.
What if there was a raid?
The thought came unbidden.
I’d have to wake and fight immediately.
He quickened his pace until he walked beside her.
Neither of them spoke.
They left camp behind, following the shoreline until the cliffs opened into a broad stretch of pale sand tucked between towering rocks. Waves rolled steadily onto shore, leaving ribbons of white foam that shimmered in the growing light.
Only then did Wolfstar stop.
“I know it’s early,” She said, blue eyes bright despite the hour. “but I’d rather train before the sun starts cooking us.”
Pantherpaw tried to return her smile.
His face only managed an awkward grimace.
If she noticed, she gave no sign.
“We haven’t had much time to train since I became your mentor.”
Because Leopardpaw disappeared.
The unspoken words tightened his chest.
His hackles prickled before he forced them flat again.
“I want to see where your skills are before we move forward,” Wolfstar continued. “There’s no sense teaching you things you already know.”
He nodded once.
Wolfstar stepped back, lowering herself into a fighting stance.
“So.”
She flicked her tail.
“Attack me.”
Pantherpaw lunged without hesitation.
Sand exploded beneath his paws as he charged.
Wolfstar ducked beneath his first strike so smoothly it barely looked like she had moved.
He twisted, claws digging into the sand as he pivoted after her.
She’d go left.
The rocks boxed her in on the right.
He shifted his weight, aiming where she’d have to dodge
Instead of retreating, Wolfstar drove straight into him.
Her shoulder slammed into his chest.
His balance vanished.
Before he could recover, they rolled together across the sand.
He hit the ground first.
Wolfstar’s paws settled firmly between his shoulders, pinning him to the earth.
His breath rushed from his lungs.
“That was good.”
He blinked.
Good?
He’d barely lasted a heartbeat.
She stepped off him with an encouraging flick of her tail.
“I liked that you committed.” She purred.
Pantherpaw rose slowly, brushing sand from his fur.
“I lost.”
“You did.” She nodded easily. “But this wasn’t about winning.”
He looked away.
“It was about seeing how you think.”
His ears flicked.
Wolfstar tilted her head.
“Why do you think that went poorly?”
He frowned.
Because he’d been pinned.
Because she’d barely even lost her breath.
Because she’d won.
“I didn’t beat you.”
“True.” She smiled. “But what did you learn?”
He stared blankly.
She waited.
No impatience.
No disappointment.
Just silence.
Finally she spoke again.
“After your first strike, you changed direction.”
She met his eyes.
“What were you trying to do?”
He shifted uneasily.
She already knew.
Why make him explain it?
“I thought…” he muttered. “…you’d dodge.”
“Where?”
“Left.”
“And?”
“I aimed where I thought you’d end up.”
Wolfstar smiled.
Warmly.
His stomach twisted.
She’s laughing at me.
His claws flexed.
She thinks I’m stupid.
His tail lashed once.
Wolfstar seemed not to notice.
“What made you think I’d go left?”
“Because…” His voice came out sharper than he intended. “Because I thought it’d work.”
Still smiling.
Still calm.
No correction.
No lecture.
Instead she simply turned toward the sea.
“Come with me.”
Confused, Pantherpaw followed.
The surf curled around their paws as they stood ankle-deep in the water.
Wolfstar didn’t speak.
She only watched the waves.
One rolled forward.
She drew in a slow breath through her nose.
The wave slipped away.
She breathed out.
Another wave.
Another breath.
Again.
And again.
Pantherpaw waited.
Surely she was about to explain.
She didn’t.
The silence stretched until it became uncomfortable.
Finally, without thinking, he matched her breathing.
The water washed over his paws.
He inhaled.
The tide retreated.
He exhaled.
Again.
Again.
The tightness beneath his skin began to loosen.
His tail stopped twitching.
The urge to snap at her drifted away with the surf.
By the time the sun crested the horizon, his breathing had settled into the rhythm of the waves.
Only then did Wolfstar look at him.
“So?”
He understood.
“I tried to hit where you would’ve dodged.”
She nodded.
“And why left?”
He glanced toward the rocks.
“Because the rocks blocked your right side.”
“There it is.” She smiled again.
This time it didn’t sting quite as much.
“That was clever.”
He blinked.
“It would’ve worked on a smaller cat. Even a quick one.”
She stretched her forelegs deeper into the surf.
“But I was never planning to dodge.”
“I noticed.”
A purr rumbled in her throat.
“I was always going to meet your weight with mine.”
Pantherpaw nodded.
She wasn’t bulky, but she was tall and solid. He had only just started passing her in size.
Of course she’d fight like a big cat.
“So…”
He hesitated. “What should I have done?”
Wolfstar shrugged.
“There are a few answers.”
She stepped back onto the sand.
“But I don’t want to tell you.”
His ears lifted.
“I want to see what your instincts say now.”
They returned to their starting positions.
Wolfstar lowered herself once more.
Pantherpaw studied her.
The rocks.
The sand beneath his paws.
The way she shifted her weight.
This time he stayed lower as he rushed forward.
When Wolfstar drove toward his chest again, he leaned into the collision instead of recoiling.
Their shoulders slammed together.
Instead of falling backward, he shoved.
Wolfstar skidded several paw-lengths through the sand before springing away.
“Good!” She laughed.
Her tail shot upright.
“Did you feel the difference?”
He frowned, confused.
“…No.”
“You weren’t trying to beat me.” She flicked his shoulder with her tail. “You were trying to solve the problem.”
He hadn’t thought about it that way.
“You could’ve leaned even harder into me.” She grinned. “You might’ve pinned me.”
He rolled his eyes, turning away to hide the corner of a smile threatening his face.
“I thought this wasn’t about winning.”
Wolfstar laughed outright. “It isn’t.”
For the next several hours they sparred.
After every exchange, they talked through what had happened.
Why he’d chosen one move instead of another.
What Wolfstar had noticed.
What she’d expected.
Whenever his frustration grew too sharp—whenever his claws dug into the sand or his breathing became ragged—she would quietly walk back into the surf.
She never had to ask.
Soon Pantherpaw found himself following.
The waves became their metronome.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
By midday the heat shimmered above the sand.
His dark pelt trapped every ray of sunlight.
“I’m done.” He spat after a particularly rough shove to his flank.
Wolfstar nodded immediately. “Good call.”
They began walking home with the cool water washing around their paws, a relief from the scorching sand.
After several moments, Wolfstar slowed.
“I want to ask you something.”
He stiffened.
“It might upset you.”
His stomach dropped.
“…Alright.”
She looked ahead instead of at him.
“What happened to your nest?”
He stared.
Of everything he’d expected…
That hadn’t been one of them.
Wolfstar continued quietly.
“I saw it after the other night.”
She glanced toward him.
“You’re still sleeping on bare ground.”
He stopped walking.
The tide curled around his paws.
Wolfstar waited.
Finally she asked,
“Did someone do that to your nest?”
For a moment, Pantherpaw almost laughed.
A short, disbelieving huff escaped him.
“No.”
Another pause.
“…It was me.”
Wolfstar nodded.
“Were you angry?”
“…Yes.”
“At Leopardpaw?”
His ears flattened.
“No…”
His voice caught.
“I’m…”
He swallowed.
“I’m not really sure why.”
The admission surprised him as much as it did her.
Wolfstar looked at the sea.
Then back to him.
“I don’t think you have to know why before asking for help.”
He said nothing.
“If you’re angry…”
She gestured toward the waves.
“…or scared…”
Another pause.
“…or if you just feel too much.”
Her voice remained gentle.
“Come find me.”
The words settled between them.
“I’ll help you.”
Pantherpaw stared down at the water swirling around his paws.
Part of him wanted to believe her.
A louder part insisted he didn’t deserve it.
When he didn’t answer, Wolfstar simply dipped her head and resumed walking toward camp.
After a moment, Pantherpaw followed.
Neither of them spoke again.
Without realizing it, he matched his breathing to the rhythm of the tide all the way home.
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So this is based on the irl story The Lion Makers! It was one of my favorite stories growing up and one of the many found in the Panchatantra (a collection of tales from India that are over thousands of years old). It’s very similar to Aesop’s Fables and One Thousand and One Nights.
So the story goes:
There were four cats living together as friends. Three of them were gibs and kittypets who were very intelligent and valued the pursuit of knowledge above all else, but they lacked any common sense.
The fourth was very lackadaisical loner Tom who couldn’t be bothered to study or learn, but he had a great deal of common sense.
One day it was decided that knowledge meant nothing if they couldn’t show their brilliance to the world. So the four set out to do something great to prove their intelligence.
Not long into the journey the eldest of the gibs turned a harsh eye to the Tom and said.
‘You’ve no knowledge or gifts to share to better the world, you should return home.’
The second gib agreed, looking down upon the Tom with a hiss.
But the third gib stood between them and said.
‘That’s no way to speak to our friend, we’ve know him since kittenhood. If you send him home, you’ll send me as well.’
The Tom stayed silent out of shame as the three gibs argued and eventually it was decided he would still join them on their journey.
After a moon of traveling, learning, and teaching other cats of their knowledge the four came across the bones of a large beast across the forest floor.
The eldest gib was delighted and exclaimed.
‘Here’s a chance to show our gifts, we shall bring this beast back to life to prove our intelligence!’
The other two gibs were also excited, the youngest of the three turned to the Tom and said.
‘Go gather as many cats as you can to witness our brilliance.’
The Tom hesitated, but at his friends urging he did so. Gathering many kittypets and loners of the area who had already seen how smart the gibs were and were excited to see them accomplish such a feat.
The youngest gib announced to the crowd.
‘This is a dog’s skeleton, I shall arrange the bones as I know where each one goes.’
The crowd of cats oohed as the gib did just that.
The second gib stepped forward.
‘I can arrange its muscles and skin using clay to make it whole again.’
Again the crowd watched in awe as the gib did as they’d said.
Now the eldest of the gibs stepped forward, their paws on the beast’s lifeless clay chest as they spoke.
‘And I can breathe life into this beast.’
But the Tom stepped forward nervously, his voice soft as he said.
‘My friends, this is a dog, a great beast. If you bring it to life it will kill us all.’
The eldest gib, embarrassed to be shown up, hissed at him.
‘You are simply jealous!’
The second gib chimed in.
‘Yes, we must not waste our knowledge, we must use it at every opportunity.’
The youngest gib and the one closest with the Tom scoffed.
‘You will not hinder us any further, after our feat, you will no longer travel with us.’
But the tom with no knowledge and only common sense did not argue, he simply said.
‘Ok then wait a moment so I may climb this tree.’
The gibs and crowd watched him, no cat moving to join him. Once settled the eldest moved forward again, cupping his paws around the beast’s muzzle and breathing slowly into it.
The crowd’s cheers as the dog rose to its paws turned to screams as it devoured each cat entirely. Once it’s damage done and the beast had moved on, the Tom slowly climbed down from the safety of the tree and made his way home.
I’ve obviously changed a few things about the story to make it fit, but the lesson is very similar. Intelligence and wisdom are not the same thing, you have to have common sense in order to survive. There’s also an overt disdain for kittypets and the idea that while gibs are considered very gifted and intelligent, that doesn’t mean they can look down upon the other genders.
Do your clan's have any myths about big cats like lions, leopard, tigers like in the original clans? Duskclan seems like they'd at least have one or two stories about bobcats or cougars.
Yes! So I like for it to be less like Tigerclan or Lionclan and more so notable figures.
For big cats specifically I don’t think the clans really believed the big cats lived as clans, they interpret them as mythological almost with very few cats throughout history having ever ‘seen’ one. The cats are usually named similarly to the tribe of rushing water like Brook where small fish swim.
So there’s the celestial trio- Moon beneath the water a white tiger who represents gibs, water, the passage of time, and healing. Their stripes represent ripples in the water.
Then there’s Sun that warms the earth, a lion who represents mollies, fire, warmth, ground, and steadfastness. (The clans think all lions have manes but they do refer to females as lionesses)
And finally there’s Star that marks the path, a leopard/panther that represents toms, wind, dreams, borders, and the in between.
There’s more but these are the ones who I’ve fleshed out.
Now for smaller felines like lynxes and mountain lions they are rarely named or featured in folk stories within the clans (now the surrounding town may have their own stories). It’s only when the clans have prolonged conflict with them that they give the individual feline a name. This is also true for other predators like wolves, bears, foxes, badgers etc.
If it comes to that then the clan dealing with the predator would name them something like Sharp tooth, Long claw, Towering shadow, Howling fang etc.
There’s several stories involving the big cats, think along the lines of Aesop’s fables but with recurring characters. They’re mostly used to teach kits lessons and entertain cats at festivals/after gatherings.
I wanted to ask if you were joining Artfight this year? 👀
Also, in case you've never heard of Artfight, its a yearly art event where you are put into teams and you get points by drawing other people's characters!! Its a lot of fun and you get wonderful art of your ocs
Just wanted to ask cause Id love to see some of the Saltclan kitties on there 😁💙
Thank you for explaining it! I’ve seen posts before but never looked into it.
I’m considering joining but it’ll depend on how much involvement it requires. My job is really demanding and the work life balance is almost zero so I’m pretty burnt out.
If I don’t this year I probably will next year.
That being said if I don’t have to actually do anything, I’d love to see people’s takes on my kitties
