#skypelt

"Gentle, Mulberry." he chided all the same.

"Yurph my preph." Mulberrykit mumbled around his tail fluff.

"It's rude to use your teeth on other cats." Almondfern said sternly, and his tail was released.

"Sorry." Mulberrykit said, hanging his head.

"Just don't do it again, alright? Your mother and the other medicine cats don't need to see cats with kit bites." Almondfern said, purring to let the kit know he wasn't mad.

Hazelkit's paw slipped and went in his ear at that moment, but he just gently shifted the kit to the side. He could have played with the kits all day, to be honest, and he let them practice their pouncing and battle moves on him, the older kits no longer interested in him since they were so close to being apprentices. Unfortunately, it didn't last. After sun-high, the kits were getting cranky, in need of a nap, and Skypelt called him to patrol with Quietback, Aphidrise, Laurelbright, and Furledseed, the older warrior taking the lead.

They covered themselves in protection and Almondfern wanted to huff, because as much as he liked serving his clan, he had to put on many times more protection than the rest, and it took forever to come out of his fur.

But he followed the patrol all the same, not about to disobey, and they headed out far from camp. Border, at the moment, but they were planning to hunt on the way back. They headed toward the border of the unclaimed lands Foggyclan was up against as well, and Almondfern had to admit, he didn't mind patrolling with two of his sisters. He was rather quite fond of it, actually, even if the last patrol, Tulipscratch had fallen in the river. That had been an accident, after all, and you could never predict an accident.

There was a chill to the air today, but new-leaf, as warped as it was likely to be, was starting to peak through in the weather. Not in the growth, though. The rainfalls had taken care of that.

They patrolled the territory, but they were lucky. Few foxes and badgers settled on their territory, dogs were not common, and it had been some time since threatening rogues had been around. Weedclan still caused their usual trouble, but Foggyclan had always been respectful of them.

They patrolled thoroughly and Almondfern flicked his tail across Laurelbright's shoulder, nudging Furledseed, glad for their company. Furledseed rolled her eyes, but Laurelbright purred, and they continued on their way. They were not traveling all the way to the border, as a patrol to do that would have required setting out earlier in the day, but they were going a good distance toward it.

So far, everything was clear. Nothing of concern, and they would likely find prey on the way back.

As they walked, Almondfern found himself wanting to talk to Quietback, ask the older tom for advice on kits and mates, and if the clan would really be worried if he liked a cat for another clan, if he wanted a mate from another clan... But he wasn't sure how to bring it up. And maybe it was better to discuss with Goldstar.

He shook his head and held his tongue for now, and Quietback ordered them to spread out and scent the area at one point.

They obeyed, staying within yowling distance of each other, and Almondfern found a thick clump of growth worthy of green-leaf, wet with raindrops, obviously from a rainfall that had come and gone not too long ago.

He was about to go around it, not wanting to get his protection wet if he didn't have to, when he heard a faint sound. Stopping, he pricked his ears, and waited. He waited so long that, for a moment, he thought he had imagined it. Then he heard it again.

A pitiful mewling sound, like he had heard kits make when they were hungry or distressed, and his heart lurched.

He plunged into the ferns, searching carefully, and, in a hollow formed from the tangled roots of a bush, he found a kit.

No nest, no scent of another cat, just a tiny, shivering kit with a silvery, white-dappled pelt, its eyes and ears firmly shut. It let out that faint, pitiful sound, so faint Almondfern couldn't believe he had heard it, its tiny body shuddering with each breath.

"QUIETBACK! APHIDRISE! LAURELBRIGHT! FURLEDSEED!" he yowled, sliding into the cramped hollow.

The kit didn't make noise now, but they flailed at his presence, struggling to crawl to the warmth of his body. The others came running and found him, and Almondfern looked up.

"Abandoned. No nest, no scent..." he said quickly, his heart breaking.

"Go. Take it to camp, now!" Quietback ordered, and Almondfern didn't need to be told twice.

He picked up the little scrap of fur, as light as feather, and he ran as fast as he dared with his delicate passenger.

He had only run like this when they had been bringing fire to the Burning Caves, he thought, and he didn't let that slow him. The kit squeaked occasionally in his jaws and he ran and ran, right past Wiggity Wack, who was sitting guard outside the camp. He didn't stop until he reached the medicine cat den, nearly slamming into Jackdawnudge.

He skidded to a halt and placed the kit gently between his paws, his chest heaving.

"Jackdaw- the- kit- need-" he panted, struggling to breathe, struggling to speak.

Jackdawnudge didn't need him to explain, though. He picked up the tiny kit after ordering Lester to find Stoneleaf, and began to vigorously groom the little thing. Almonfern collapsed on the ground, catching his breath, and watched as Jackdawnudge groomed and rubbed the kit for all his was worth. Stoneleaf came into the den, sitting nearby, but she didn't move as Jackdawnudge worked.

Between licks and rubs, it soon became apparent that Jackdawnudge was speaking.

"Come on, you little scrap. Come on." he was saying, occasionally saying something else.

Lester took a turn when Jackdawnudge tired, and it seemed to take an eternity, but the kit was soon warmed up and squealing weakly.

"There you go, little one. There you go. Stoneleaf is goin' to feed you, don't you worry." Lester purred as Almondfern let out a sigh of relief.

He hovered as Stoneleaf settled in one of the empty patient nests, Morbius watching through half-closed eyes; the medicine cat kept her on low doses of poppy in hopes of keeping her calm and still enough for her spine to heal.

Stoneleaf nuzzled the kit to her swollen teats and it took several tries, but the kit soon latched and began to nurse.

"He's very weak." Stoneleaf said softly.

Almondfern swallowed hard.

"I want to keep him." he blurted out, and Jackdawnudge glanced at him.

"Don't go gettin' too attached, Almondfern. He might... He's not outta the woods yet." Lester warned gently.

"I want him." Almondfern repeated stubbornly.

He would nurse this kit back to health, he would protect them... Maybe it was because he and his sisters had been found and taken in by the clan, but he wanted to do what his mother had done for them. And it wasn't fair, for him to die just because he had been abandoned. It wasn't fair.

"Go wash up, and when you're dry, you can help me with him. Maybe come up with a name?" Stoneleaf said kindly, and Almondfern did just that.

He cleaned the protection from his fur and by this time, word of the kit had spread around the camp. Gillfeather came and helped him dry himself off, grooming his pelt just as she had when he had been a kit. When he was dry, he went back to the medicine cat den, finding Stoneleaf curled around the little kit.

She shifted in the roomy nest until there was room for both of them and they curled up with the kit together, Almondfern gently rasping his tongue over the kit. His whole body seemed to shudder with his breathing and when he flipped him over, Almondfern could see his heartbeat jumping through his tiny chest. He snuggled closer, knowing his fur held warmth; his sisters always crawled into his nest on cold nights.

"Do... Do you think he has a chance?" Almondfern asked Stoneleaf fearfully.

"I think he does. Amberleaf was a sickly little kit, and he pulled through. Starclan might not be ready for this little one just yet." Stoneleaf said soothingly.

They lay together, keeping the kit warm, and Almondfern pondered names for a while. Tried a few out and discarded them.

"Mistkit." he said eventually, drawing the kit to his belly.

"That's a lovely name. His fur is a misty gray, too." Stoneleaf said, purring.

Mistkit squeaked and lifted his head, snuffling blindly, and Almondfern nuzzled him gently until the squeaking calmed.

He sent a prayer to Starclan, hoping they would have mercy, hoping they would give him a miracle. Kits didn't deserve to die. He would do everything in his power to make sure Mistkit didn't. He hoped it would be enough, and he hoped Starclan was looking out for them.

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His next few days revolved around the medicine cat den. Stoneleaf had the other kits to look after, of course, but Yellowlily moved into the nursery to keep an eye on them when she came and looked after Mistkit with him. The warriors brought Stoneleaf the best prey, though that wasn't new. She had been nursing kits almost non-stop for moons, and they wanted to make sure she had enough to eat, and enough milk.

Stoneleaf showed him how to care for Mistkit, how to clean him and groom him, and Almondfern found himself wishing he could produce milk. It would be much more convenient, honestly, and he felt bad whenever Mistkit tried to suckle from him. He was a hungry little thing, but he also had trouble suckling for long, Almondfern noticed. He just wasn't strong enough. He licked and rubbed the kit vigorously, stimulating him, keeping him warm and getting his blood flowing, keeping him tucked against his belly with his tail draped over him.

Almondfern knew he shouldn't have gotten attached, should have been cautious... But he fell in love with Mistkit from the first day. He talked to him even though his ears were sealed, telling him about the clan, and about the other kits there were for him to play with once he was strong enough.

Morbius watched from her nest, her eyes always poppy-glazed, but she asked Almondfern questions, and there was always at least one medicine cat present. On the morning of the fifth day after finding Mistkit, Almondfern woke shortly after dawn and shifted, yawning and then turning his attention to Mistkit. He leaned down to lick him and paused, realizing there was no little snuffling breaths, no squeaking, no fidgeting as his tongue rasped over the silky fur.

"Mistkit?" he said, his voice a whisper.

Stoneleaf stirred beside him and Almondfern nuzzled the kit, but he was still and cold.

"Mistkit?" His voice was louder now, thick with fear, and Almondfern didn't want to believe, he didn't...

His yowl pierced the silence of medicine cats' den and Stoneleaf shot up, the medicine cats shooting from their nests, Confetti, who had been sleeping with Morbius, leaping into the air and hissing.

"No, no, no... Please, Starclan, you can't... Grandpa! Grandpa!" Almondfern cried frantically, Jackdawnudge bounding over.

But there was nothing to be done. Mistkit had slipped away in his sleep, too weak, left too long by the time Almondfern had found him. His sobs chased Stoneleaf and Confetti away, and Plumsong tried to say something to him, but Almondfern ignored him. He curled around Mistkit's still body, his own shaking, his muzzle wet with tears.

Skypelt came and tried to take Mistkit from him, but Almondfern smacked his claws across her muzzle. He shocked himself, but Skypelt left, and Almondfern realized with a start that Amberleaf had been sitting nearby for some time.

He stared at Amberleaf for a long moment and Amberleaf stared back, saying nothing, just watching and waiting.

Eventually, Jackdawnudge came and settled down beside the nest.

"Almondfern, I know you loved that little kit. You took good care of him. But you need to let him go." he said gently and Almondfern shook his head.

"Why is Starclan so cruel?" he whispered, staring at his grandfather.

"This wasn't Starclan, Almond. We'll never know the truth, but you found no nest, no scent, and he was only a day or two old when you discovered him. This is the fault of the cat who left him to die. There was nothing you could have done other than what you did. You loved him and cared for him. That was more than he got from the cat who left him." Jackdawnudge said and Almondfern sniffed.

"I don't want to burn him." he croaked.

"You have to. You know that. Better than letting an Unseen get him." Jackdawnudge said.

He leaned forward and pressed his muzzle to Almondfern's cheek.

"Starclan will take care of him. It's just his body now. His spirit isn't there." he said and Almondfern swallowed.

He looked at the tiny, delicate body between his paws and his vision blurred.

"I'll take him." Amberleaf offered from where he was sitting.

"No. No, I... I'll do it." Almondfern whispered, because he had to.

He needed to. And he knew Jackdawnudge was right, and that he had to let him go. He did not have the luxury to sit here and mourn, especially when it was a few-day journey to the Burning Caves.

He forced himself to leave Mistkit's body and Gillfeather helped him coat himself in protection, licking his tear-soaked fur comfortingly.

"I'm so sorry, honey. I'm so sorry." she murmured, nuzzling him.

She offered to go with him, but Almondfern shook his head. In the end, it was Amberleaf who went with him, and Almondfern slid on an herb-sling, Mistkit's body tucked into it. Lester added the herbs that had once been used, and coiled around him comfortingly.

Then they set off slightly together, and Almondfern had never been close to Amberleaf, but he was grateful for the other cat's company. He wasn't sure if he woud have been able to complete the journey on his own.

He had taken his turn as a firewatcher and enjoyed the work, but he had never taken a body himself. He had the sudden terrible thought that one day he would have to do this for Jackdawnudge, for his mother and her siblings, maybe even for his siblings... His chest tightened and he swallowed hard at the thought.

Amberleaf said nothing and did not touch him, just gave him a reassuring nod, and that was better than words. Almondfern was glad he was not alone, and he was glad it was not a member of his family with him. Because he would need their comfort when he got home, and it wouldn't be the same if they were here. And it was only because of Amberleaf that he ate. The younger tom hunted for them both, dropping prey in front of Almondfern, and he ate it because Amberleaf would watch him. He also knew better than to waste prey or his clanmate's efforts.

It took several long, quiet days to get here, and part of Almondfern wanted to ask if this was what it had been like when Amberleaf had helped take Flintfur, but he did not. It was rude and invasive, and if Amberleaf wanted to talk about it, he would have said something.

Almondfern kept the sling close, not wanting to lose Mistkit, and they kept watch for Unseen. They encountered two rainfalls on the journey, but no Unseen, and it was... Peaceful. He didn't know what else to call it. But, eventually, they got to their destination, and Almondfern's heart was twisting.

They were greeted by cats from the other clans- Civetbeak and Quailpaw were here as firewatchers right now, the apprentice having begged to go, but they must have been further in the caves. First, there was confusion about where the body was. Then a sense of sadness spread through the cats; the death of a kit was something all the clans could mourn with a better understanding together.

They were lead into the caves and Almondfern was surprised to see Softflight here, but he did have to admit, he was grateful for her company. He didn't know the rest of these cats well. They were allowed to rest and Almondfern left Mistkit's body wrapped in the sling, trying to delay things, but he couldn't. He had to give Mistkit's body to the fire, and not delay it.

Amberleaf came back with a bundle of flowers in his jaws, daisies that were cheerful and white, and Almondfern thanked him. They all gathered on the edge of the fire pit, the heat incredible, and Almondfern wanted to say something. He really did. But he couldn't think of anything.

"Starclan, take care of him." he said, eventually, a prayer, a demand, an order.

He gently eased Mistkit from the sling and took a deep breath, gently nuzzling the little, cold body.

"I loved you, little kit. I love you. I'm sorry you didn't get a chance to live. But you are loved. You are precious to me." he whispered, tears slipping down his muzzle.

Then he gave Mistkit to the flames, and he and Amberleaf scattered the daisies in after.

Almondfern didn't mean to, but he turned and buried his head in Amberleaf's shoulder, sobbing, and he felt Amberleaf flinch. He backed off immediately, backed away from the scorching heat of the flames and curled up, crying again. Softflight curled up with him, and the others quietly went further into the caves.

Softflight said nothing, just curled against him and groomed his ears gently, comfortingly. Almondfern curled into her and swallowed, mourning again, wishing that Mistkit had a least had a chance. Wishing that he had not been abandoned for whatever reason, or that he had found him sooner or...

Eventually, Softflight and Civetbeak got him up. They took him to the nests where the firewatchers slept, and he curled up, his heart no lighter than before.

Amberleaf settled in the nest nearest him, and, eventually, Almondfern spoke.

"Amber?" he said softly, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah?" Amberleaf said.

"Thank you for coming with me. I couldn't... I don't think I would have made it here without you." he said, swallowing.

"You're welcome." Amberleaf said, and said nothing else.

They would spend the night, and, in the morning, they would head back. Right now, all Almondfern wanted to do was stay in the nest. And when Softflight curled up with him for the night, he pressed close to her, resting his chin on her shoulder, eventually drifting off to sleep.

5/4/2026-5/9/2026

Flowers used:

Daisy- Innocence, often used to represent children and at funerals for them.

Bonus: Mistkit

Today was his warrior ceremony. A little under a moon since Flintfur had died, and now... Everything felt strange. Wrong.

Goldstar and Jackdawnudge had recovered from their grief, or mostly, Yellowpaw and Quailpaw seemed steadier, Skypelt was doing wonderfully in her role as deputy... But the clan felt different, felt off, and Amberpaw knew it was because Flintfur was gone. The structure of the clan he had grown up with his whole life had changed drastically and suddenly.

He couldn't remember Firkit and Shrewkit dying. He couldn't remember when Ashtalon had died. So in ways, death was new to him, and he did not like the way it rattled the clan. Yes, there had been dead loners and kittypets and so forth, but they hadn't been cats he had known all his life.

He groomed, watching as the sun came above the horizon, and Skypelt emerged from the warriors' den, Quietback soon following after her. Amberpaw watched them and Skypelt headed straight for him, settling down beside him.

"Today is a big day for you, Amberpaw." she purred, drawing her tongue over his ears.

Thorns pricked Amberpaw's skin beneath his pelt and his stomach churned, especially as she began to groom him, his chest seizing up a little. He shied away from her quickly, knowing it hurt her, but Skypelt just didn't seem to understand what touch could do to him.

"I can groom myself, I'm grown." he mumbled as a poor excuse.

"You'll always be my kit." Skypelt said, but she made no move to try to touch him again.

Amberpaw made a noise that meant really nothing, just kept grooming, and Skypelt looked at him.

"I am so proud of you. You've done so well at your training; you will be a great warrior from the start. I've known it since you were little." she said and Amberpaw resisted the urge to lay back his ears.

He hated when she talked like this, like he was the best and strongest warrior there was, that he was going to be, and it wasn't because his father was Ashtalon or anything like that. No, she was just convinced of it, and he still hated it. Even on the day of his ceremony, she wasn't going to shut up about it.

Luckily, the rest of the clan was waking up, Buzzardglide was swapping with Furledseed, and the dawn patrol would soon be done.

Yellowlily led the dawn patrol, taking Stoneleaf, Almondfern, Pumaspot, Gillfeather, and Quailpaw with her, the group coating themselves in protection, and the day went from there.

Rainwatcher ready, Wasp and Lester going out to get herbs, Plumsong checking on Goldstar and Jackdawnudge, and Lester's litter bursting from the nursery, galloping over to Amberpaw before he could walk over to Skypelt to be assigned to hunting.

"It's your ceremony! Right? Right?" Whimsykit all but screamed at him, sitting down in front of him.

Amberpaw didn't mind the kits; they had learned from the start that he didn't like to be touched and had never, not once, touched a hair on his pelt.

Three moons old, the ginger-furred trio looked up at him with huge eyes and sat in a neat line (or as neat as they could manage) in front of him, and Amberpaw nodded.

"I want a ceremony!" Leafkit proclaimed, and just like that, the little kits began playing with each other.

Amberpaw was forgotten and he purred a little, moving off.

The ceremony would be happening before sunhigh and he wasn't assigned any patrol, feeling a flash of envy as Tulippaw and Fogpaw went out to hunt with their mentors. He supposed no one wanted him to get dirty for his ceremony, which irked him just a little. He didn't care.

He checked the camp instead, Quietback helping him make sure the dens were as solid as usual, and before he knew it, patrols were back, prey was brought, and everyone had eaten. Then it was time for the ceremony and Goldstar climbed into the branches of her den, Amberpaw noting that her grief seemed to have aged her this past moon.

She seemed a little stiffer, a little slower, but Amberpaw said nothing. Skypelt sat beside him, Civetbeak on the other side, and Quietback was near him, too, Goldstar's gaze sweeping over the clan.

"My clan, it has been hard these past nine moons, especially this last moon, but despite it, we are all enduring. And today, we are welcoming Amberpaw as a fully fledged warrior. Amberpaw, step forward." Goldstar said, her eyes landing on him.

They were full of fondness and Amberpaw hated that all eyes were on him (yet again), but he stepped forward. He really realized how much he had grown as he stood up next to Skypelt and Civetbeak; he was not as tall as some cats, but he was large and muscular, and he was big.

He stepped forward and took his place in front of the bare tree, dipping his head to Goldstar respectfully.

"Amberpaw, Civetbeak has confided in me that you have done well in your training, and I have seen it for myself. Today, you will be a warrior. Do you promise to protect and defend your clan, and uphold the code of the clans, for as long as you serve as a warrior?" Goldstar asked, looking down at him.

"I do." Amberpaw said without hesitation.

In ways, it didn't feel like that big of a deal. He would just be serving his clan like he had been before, with a new name and more duties. Skypelt had pounded it into his head since he was a kit that he would be a warrior some day, a great one, and while he wasn't sure of that greatness, he was a warrior.

What else would he be, really? He didn't like touching cats and had no interest in herbs. He certainly couldn't be a queen, and mediating as not his strong suit (Wiggity Whacks had given him a few lessons and they had not gone well).

He was pretty sure that most cats didn't feel this sort of indifference toward their warrior ceremonies, but he did.

"Then I, Goldstar, leader of Hyacinthclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this cat, and recognize him as a full warrior of our clan. From this moment forward, for his spirit, he will be known as Amberleaf. Welcome, Amberleaf, as a full warrior of Hyacinthclan." Goldstar said, leaping down to rest her muzzle on top of his head.

"Amberleaf! Amberleaf! Amberleaf!" the clan chanted, Skypelt's voice the loudest of all.

Amberpaw- Amberleaf dipped his head, pulling away from Goldstar as quickly as he could. Yellowpaw had helped him practice for days so he wouldn't flinch away from Goldstar as he had during his apprentice ceremony.

As he sat there, his clan chanting his name, Amberleaf felt that old flash of pain, like he had when he had been apprentice. Why couldn't Copsespots and Ashtalon be here with him? Why couldn't he be getting his name alongside Firkit and Shrewkit? He knew why, but it all still left a bitterness and sadness in him. And could they even see him? With Starclan mostly gone?

It wasn't exactly fair to feel this way and it was different than when he had been a little kit, but Amberleaf still felt that anger, bitterness, and sadness. He tried to shake it off as the ceremony concluded and his clanmates' voiced faded, and turned to the cats who were coming to personally congratulate him.

Skypelt was, of course, the first.

"I'm so proud of you, Amberleaf. You are going to be a great warrior, I know it." she said, rubbing against him affectionatey.

Amberleaf flinched away and recoiled, flattening his ears, and Skypelt looked startled for a moment, Quietback murmuring something to her, and she shook herself. Didn't apologize, didn't say anything to him, and Amberpaw gritted his teeth against this.

"Thank you." he said instead, though he didn't want to hear about how she thought he was going to be great any more.

"Here. I want you to have this." Skypelt said, taking something from Quietback.

Amberleaf looked curiously at the leaf bundle and used his claw to peel back the edge of it, revealing nettles carefully assembled into something to wear, similar to Jackdawnudge's lavender.

"Thank you." he said again, blinking.

"Let me help you put it on." Skypelt said, picking it up.

Amberleaf let her and she fixed it behind his ear, the long strands tickling his fur, and it felt strange, but he smiled. Maybe Skypelt wasn't perfect, but she tried, and she was his mother.

"You look so handsome." Skypelt said, smiling at him, and Amberleaf smiled back.

Then she moved on, as more of the clan (not the whole clan, thankfully) wanted to talk to him. Civetbeak was next and he purred at Amberleaf.

"I'm proud of you, too. I'm sorry I wasn't able to train you for so much of your apprenticeship, but you deserve this." Civetbeak said, a pang of regret in his voice.

"You trained me well." Amberleaf assured him, because Civetbeak had.

It hadn't been his fault that his wound had been so bad. And Amberleaf appreciated what Civetbeak had taught him, even though the tom had been so strict with him.

Civetbeak said nothing else, just gave him a nod, and moved on. Stoneleaf, back from her turn as a Firekeeper, smiled at him, looking as proud as if he were own; she had nursed him briefly, and Amberleaf couldn't forget that even if he couldn't actually remember it. Amberleaf permitted a light touching of their noses and shuddered internally, but he had nursed from her and he could stand.

Finally, after a few more clanmates, including Goldstar herself, Quietback was the only one left.

Amberleaf, after all this time, honestly wasn't sure what to think of Quietback most of the time. He knew Quietback had been his father's best friend, that they had been the last kits of one of the clans that had formed Hyacinthclan, taken care of by Goldstar and Flintfur.

But the cat had always almost avoided him outside patrols, and Amberleaf often caught him observing him from a distance, like he was afraid of him, almost. Cats told Amberleaf he looked a lot like his father, and that he acted similar, too. He thought maybe the perceived resemblance was painful for the cat.

No one had been closer to Ashtalon than Quietback, after all, except for Copsespots.

"Hey, kit. I know you probably don't want to hear it, but... Well, I know your parents would be proud of you. Not like Skypelt is, not how she is... But... They're looking at you know, and they know. Just... Well, I just want you to know that, all right?" Quietback said awkwardly and Amberleaf nodded.

"But you're also your own cat. Remember that." Quietback added and that made Amberleaf prick his ears.

No one had ever really said that to him. His clanmates had fussed and fawned over him for most of his life, because of the tragedies he didn't even remember, and he knew why, he understood. But being told that he wasn't just a legacy or a great warrior, well...

Amberleaf reached tentatively and placed his paw on top of Quietback's tentatively, his pads prickling like thorns were sticking in them, but he managed it. To his surprise, Quietback jerked his paw back before he did, the hairs on his pelt rising for a second, and then he shook his head.

"Well, I shouldn't keep you from patrols." he said quickly and hurried off, leaving Amberleaf staring after him.

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Amberleaf sat his vigil that night, taking the role of rainwatcher, and he had to blow the conch, but the rainfall was brief. No cat was injured, nothing damaged or lost.

In the morning, it was nice and clear and Amberpaw was able to sleep until almost sunhigh, and then he joined patrols. Goldstar was having a rough time today, still not entirely recovered from the loss of Flintfur, and Civetbeak's leg was acting up, so he volunteered to take Yellowpaw for her training.

No one protested, and he had been training with her for her entire apprenticeship, after all.

Amberleaf took her to the little clearing where all Hyacinthclan apprentices learned their battle moves and as they walked, he began to notice that Yellowpaw seemed.. Off.

He stopped the patrol as soon as he did.

"Yellowpaw, is something wrong?" he asked, though he suspected it might have been related to Flintfur.

She and Quailpaw had been putting on brave faces, but he knew they both missed their father terribly.

"I..." Yellowpaw said, sitting down, hunching her shoulders.

"You can talk to me, Yellowpaw. I'll listen. I might not be the best at talking, but I can listen." Amberleaf offered, coming to sit down beside her.

Yellowpaw studied the ground.

"Is it Flintfur?" Amberleaf asked.

"...No."

Amberleaf didn't press and they sat in there in silence for a little bit, Yellowleaf finally speaking.

"It's... I've been having nightmares lately." she said, scuffing her paws on the ground.

The blue feathers Flintfur had given her stood out in her tail fur, catching Amberleaf's eye as she flicked her tail, and he pricked his ears when she mentioned nightmares.

"What sort of nightmares?" he asked, wondering if it was actually about Flintfur.

It could have been, after all, because Amberleaf himself certainly had had nightmares about what had happened afterward.

"I... They're... I can't really describe them. But they're always the same. They're filled with shadows and rainfall and... And things." Yellowpaw said, whispering the last part.

"What sort of things?" Amberleaf asked carefully.

"They look like cats. Prey. Twolegs. But they aren't. They're black, like smoke or fog, just floating in the shapes. Things trail off them and they're just there. Then some of them are solid and these black waves come, swallowing up everything. The clan and the camp and..." Yellowpaw said, shuddering.

"I think they're Unseen. Because they eat a cat and then there is a Silencing, and... Oh, Amberleaf, it's terrible! I tried to tell Jackdawnudge but I didn't know what to do and why would Starcaln give me a prophecy or a vision... And there is this thing in the ocean. I don't know what it is." she continued and this made Amberleaf paused.

"Can you see it? This thing in the ocean?" he asked carefully.

"I... It's dark and it has tentacles, like an octopus. They reach out and they grab at cats, it pulls itself with them... And the black swallows it up again. Black in the ocean." Yellowpaw answered and Amberleaf's heart thumped.

That was the thing he had seen the first time he had died, swimming in the ocean toward him. And the nightmares sounded like some he had had before. So it wasn't just him...

"I don't like it! I'm afraid to sleep and I don't want to, and I'm so scared... What if they are real? What if all that stuff happens? I hate this, Amberleaf!" Yellowpaw said, beginning to cry.

Amberleaf took a breath and pressed against her, wrapping his tail around her, and Yellowpaw stiffened against him at this.

"I have nightmares like that, too. I don't know if they're a prophecy or something for Starclan or just dreams, but I have them, too." he said, his skin prickling, but... Touching Yellowpaw was all right.

"You do?"

"Uh-huh."

"Have you told anyone about them? Like the medicine cats?" Yellowpaw asked.

"No." Amberleaf admitted, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"I was scared. I wasn't sure how. And then it just... Nothing has actually come true. I think they're just dreams." Amberleaf answered, having no better explanation.

Maybe other cats would have told the medicines cats, their mentors, someone, but with everything that was going on and everything that was already strange about him, he just hadn't been able to do it.

He really wasn't sure why, other than he was pretty sure he wasn't normal.

"Do you think I should?" Yellowpaw asked and Amberleaf considered it.

"Maybe talk to Goldstar. She is the leader, and your mother." he suggested after a moment.

"Did you tell Skypelt?" Yellowpaw asked, looking up at him.

"...No."

"But she's your mother." Yellowpaw pointed out and Amberleaf shook his head.

"It's... Look, it's complicated, Yellowpaw. But we're different cats and if you think you should talk to one of the medicine cats or Goldstar, then you should. Just because I haven't doesn't mean that you have to do the same." he said and Yellowpaw nodded.

"You... You have nightmares a lot. Is that what you dream about?" she asked after a long moment.

"Yes." Amberleaf said, as there was no point in lying.

"You could have told me." Yellowpaw said softly.

"Well, I've told you now." Amberleaf said gruffly and Yellowpaw laughed softly.

"Look, whatever you decide to do, whether you tell anyone else or not, you can talk to me, Yellowpaw. I might not have answers, but I can listen." Amberleaf added and she leaned against him more.

"Thank you." she murmured and Amberleaf nodded, keeping her tail around her until she was ready to go back on patrol.

Nettle's meaning across various languages of flowers: Cruelty, deep pain, cause of great pain, slander, spitefullness, protection, danger

11/18/2025-11/24/2025

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"...The answer is no, Yellowlily. I told you that before." Plumsong snapped, and Amberleaf could easily imagine his tail lashing.

His view was blocked at the moment and he thought of leaving, but he wasn't going to risk not being as covered as he could.

"And why not?" Yellowlily demanded, sounding surprisingly angry.

"You and Jackdawnudge are mates. And you are asking me to your mate." Plumsong said, as if explaining something to a kit.

"So?"

"You already have a mate!"

"I've discussed it with Jackdaw. He doesn't mind. He knows that I'd have both of you if I could, and I want both of you, Plumsong. What's so wrong with that? I love you, and I love Jackdawnudge, too. You can love more than one cat at a time." Yellowlily demanded, her voice rising just a little.

"Does he really want to share you with another cat?" Plumsong asked, voice harsh.

"We discussed it before we became mates. There's nothing wrong with it. I know you know that and believe that. We're both getting on in moons, Plumsong. Why not enjoy the ones we have left? You can't tell me you don't feel the same way." Yellowlily said, and now her voice was patient and gentle.

Amberleaf felt awkward now, applying the protection as quickly as he could while being thorough, and maybe he should have said something, but now it felt too late. He was surprised and he wasn't to hear that Plumsong didn't want to be mates with Yellowlily, because he had seen them go on many patrols together when he had been a kit and an apprentice, and he had always thought Plumsong liked Yellowlily in that way.

It was none of his business, though, and he didn't hear Plumsong's response because the pair moved on, much to his relief. There was no doubt in his mind that Yellowlily had been thoroughly rejected, though, and he finished getting ready, heading to Goldstar's den.

Despite the early hour, she was awake, and Skypelt was with her.

"Be quick, and be safe." Goldstar said, her eyes sweeping over him.

"I will." Amberleaf promised.

"I know you can do it." Skypelt said, touching her nose to his.

Amberleaf flinched back, glaring at her, but as always, Skypelt didn't care. She never seemed to notice and he tried, he really did, but he just couldn't, and he hoped that one day, she would understand.

With the well-wishes from his leader and mother, he headed off, nodding to Quietback, who was sitting guard, Almondfern sitting as Rainwatcher, and they were really the only cats who saw him go.

It would take a few days to get the lighthouse and back and by then his protection was likely to run thin, but Amberleaf was confident in his ability to take care of himself. He set off and went at a pace he could maintain for a time, catching some prey when he stumbled across it, glad to find it didn't have black leaking from its eyes.

He ate it and moved on, and Amberleaf liked being alone, didn't socialize too much with his clanmates, truth be told, but this... After spending a good portion of the day walking, this was nice. It was very peaceful.

Just him and the territory, the sounds of birds, the wind in the trees, because even with the rainfall, the world pushed on. Life pushed on. Not just the clan, but the rest of the world as well, and Amberleaf lost himself in the peace of it.

Even when the rainfall came, he didn't fear it as he once had. No, he just sat in a hollow in trees roots, and watched as it fell. It was good to watch the rain and he saw the circular rainbow in the sky, but he did not encounter any Unseen. In fact, the whole day was beautiful and peaceful, and when he found a place to stop for the night, he had a sense of peace he hadn't had before.

Maybe it should have bothered him that he didn't miss his clanmates. But it had been less than a full day and night, after all, and sometimes it was nice to just be alone. To be free of responsibilities. To just have the world himself, and a job to do that he was heading toward but had no immediate urgency, because he couldn't get there any faster.

Amberleaf couldn't imagine not being in his clan. He knew nothing but Hyacinthclan, and the thought of leaving them made something in him feel odd. But this time, this peace and quiet and being alone... He did enjoy it.

He had nightmares, as he often did, and tonight it was of sand welling blood beneath his paws everywhere he put it, and dark tides rolling toward him. He wok with a jolt, fur matted, heart pounding, and he still hadn't seen that... Thing... Again, and he wasn't sure how to feel about that.

It was a clear dawn outside where he had camped for the night and Amberleaf got up and shook himself, fur stiff from the protection, skin itching a bit, but it was better than falling victim to the rainfall. He shook himself and went hunting, skipping over a squirrel that had black welling from its eyes. No harm had come yet, but he didn't want to be the first cat to find out, even if he could revive.

He settled on two mice and set out, still finding that peace he had the day before.

It continued all the way to the lighthouse, actually, and he made it in about the same time Skypelt and Quietback had, though he arrived as night was falling. And just his luck, a rainfall was coming.

He could smell that metallic, odd scent that accompanied it and the area around the lighthouse was barren of shelter, just grass and other shorter growth that was messed up from repeated rainfalls. Growling, Amberleaf took off. After days of travel, his protection was wearing off, and he wasn't going to get caught in it.

The lighthouse was the only place to really go and he ran for it, his paws thumping over the ground hard. He found a smooth path leading up to it that stank of odd scents he didn't know and it was easier to run here, the dirt smooth and compacted, a huge path winding up toward the lighthouse.

Scrambling up onto it from the steep edge had definitely been the hardest part, and he ran toward the odd structure, not even being able to appreciate the sight of it in the dimming light. Hopefully, there was shelter outside it. And lacking that, maybe the Twoleg would let him in. Amberleaf had never seen a Twoleg before, but if Morbius had been cared for, maybe this one would at least offer him shelter.

As he ran, Amberleaf was heard an odd rumbling sound and saw light, but at first, he thought the light was from the lighthouse. Then he realized it wasn't. It couldn't have been. It was coming straight toward him, two points of light brighter than he had thought possible, speeding toward him like some giant, rumbling predator. Amberleaf had no idea what it was, and no idea what he was doing, either.

He was running away from the rainfall and directly toward it, and-

THUNK!

Pain exploded through every inch of his body and Amberleaf went flying, slipping over the drop of the road and into the grass below it as the rain hit, and his mouth was full of blood, his head spinning, ears ringing, nothing making sense. He was only able to briefly think monster, recognizing the thing now from the older cats' stories, before that now-familiar blackness and sensation claimed him.

He woke floating in the ocean, to upside down whales and fish, faint light above, depths below, and he clawed himself around, looking. He did not see the odd, dark shape with tentacles, and he was almost disappointed. As he had previously thought, it was more unsettling to not know where it was rather than knowing it was there.

He clawed his way around, searching for his body, and located it quickly enough, drifting many tail-lengths and slightly below him this time. Amberleaf clawed his way toward it and as he did, he saw something.

Further out, a black shape with too many limbs, clawing through the water toward him, and part of Amberleaf wanted to linger. He wanted to see if it was real or a vision, if he could touch it, maybe understand what it was. But he also didn't want to. It could possibly kill him... Or worse.

So he clawed his way through the water- he was getting quite good at swimming- and pressed his paw to his paw, and surfaced back in his body.

He was laying soaked in the ditch, the protection running off him, but he could tell by the scent that the rain was the normal kind. His body echoed with pain and his mouth was still filled with blood, but as far as he could tell, he was completely fine.

Light illuminated the raindrops and Amberleaf remembered the monster then, and he could hear footsteps, here a voice calling out, but it wasn't a cat. No, it must have been the Twoleg. He couldn't understand it and he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Forget this foolish mission. How was he supposed to see if the Twoleg really wanted Morbius back? How was he supposed to know if the Twoleg would really help her? How were they supposed to get her help?

Growling, Amberleaf staggered to his paws, blood dribbling off his tongue, and he spat, looking up at the monster lights and where the Twoleg must have been, anger and bitterness welling up in him.

"FUCK!" he spat at the Twoleg and his monster, staggering away.

His yowl had attracted the Twoleg, but he didn't care, carrying his aching body away as another light swept down, narrowly avoiding it, and tucked himself in the growth that was now shockingly tall to reorient himself for a moment or two.

He stayed there until he got his bearings and had spat most of the blood from his mouth, disappearing into the damp growth, avoiding the Twoleg. If it hadn't been such a trip from the lighthouse, it was clear that they could have just led the Twoleg to camp and put Morbius out where he could find her.

Unfortunately, that was not possible, so Amberleaf got himself moving, disappearing into the wet landscape before the Twoleg could follow.

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His coat was only covered in patchy protection by the time he got back, but he had managed to avoid the rainfalls. There had been more of them and his nightmares had come almost every night, and he had seen more prey with black leaking from their eyes, too.

The peace he had found traveling to the lighthouse was gone, and the journey back had been filled with anxiety, a worry of what he might find when he returned.

But he had no need to worry. When he arrived back at camp, he could see Buzzardglide sitting as Rainwatcher in the tree, and Pumaspot was guarding the camp entrance.

"Oh, hey. You're back." she said, and it wasn't friendly, but it wasn't unfriendly, at least.

Amberleaf didn't think they would ever be friends, but at least she didn't seem to hate him as much as she had when they were apprentices.

He nodded to her and walked into the camp, where Lester's litter was play-fighting in the clearing, his clanmates were eating and grooming under the high-sun, and it was peaceful.

They all started, of course, when he returned, and he went immediately to Goldstar's den, where Skypelt, Plumsong, and Wasp joined them. Amberleaf really wanted to sit down and wash off the remains of the protection, but he made his report first.

He explained what had happened at the lighthouse and with the Twoleg, Plumsong's whiskers twitching.

"You didn't know that was a monster?" he asked, frowning.

"No, because I've never seen one." Amberleaf said, barely keeping his tone level or himself from saying 'never fucking seen one'.

"Did you die again?" Skypelt asked, looking worried.

"Yeah." Amberleaf said and they all exchanged looks.

"Did you see it?" Plumsong asked, his voice soft, suddenly.

"Yeah. No different than normal." Amberleaf replied, but he detailed it all the same.

He had no idea what Plumsong and Wasp might think of that, but it wasn't his job.

"The Twoleg cares, but there's no way to get him here, and I don't think we could bring Morbius over that terrain." Amberleaf summed up when he was done.

"Maybe if we cut through Weedclan territory..." Wasp mused, but everyone else was already shaking their heads.

"Well, it was worth a try. Thank you, Amberleaf." Goldstar said heavily, giving him a respectful nod.

Amberleaf nodded back and was granted permission to leave, aware that the rest would stay and likely talk about the thing he had seen. About whether or not it was a sign, but he didn't care if they didn't include him.

He went to clean the protection off and slid into the water, letting it rinse it away and scrubbing his fur against the rocks, getting the mud and herb mixture out. As he did, he caught sight of a long, black tendril sliding toward his paw, and Amberleaf leapt out of the water, heart pounding.

His jaws were open to sound the alarm, but then he stopped, realizing it was nothing more than a drank drifting in the water. Growling, he reached in and grabbed it, flinging it out, and finished washing.

He was being paranoid. That was all.

But still, for days after his return, the amount of prey with black streaming from their eyes increased, and the rainfalls seemed more frequent. His nightmares came more as well. Maybe it really was a sign from Starclan, after all, a warning of something that was slowly creeping up on them. Hopefully, they would be prepared when it it arrived.

3/10/2026-3/27/2026

It would regrow, but not in time, and Plumsong cursed, dashing away. The warriors followed on his heels ad this was what he had been dreading since these rainfalls had started; vital herbs being hit when their stocks needed to be replenished.

Goldstar had only lost one life before, so she had plenty yet, but Plumsong did not want to risk her losing one. No leader had lost a life since their connection to Starclan had broken, and he had no idea if she would be able to come back to them, or if her lost life would go to Starclan like it was supposed to.

They raced through the territory, searching, and part of Plumsong had half the mind to run straight to Foggyclan or Weedclan rather than carry on a desperate search when time was wasting away, but given the state of the world now, they might not be too willing to share. It would also be better to have Wiggity Wacks with him for that, not two warriors, and he shook himself mentally.

They raced to the next spot where they gathered time, the spot the medicine cats had collectively decided to leave alone to regrow and flourish so the patch would still be there, but they did not have much of a choice right now.

Luckily, there was still thyme to be had, and though it went against his instincts as a medicine cat, Plumsong harvested it with the warriors.

It was perfectly fine, but it smelled sickly to him, the nubs of the stalks seeming to glare accusingly at them as they bundled the herbs into their jaws, but needs must.

They turned away and sprinted back to camp, but the detour and racing away to a further part of the territory had cost them.

By the time Plumsong careened into the private part of the den, he found Jackdawnudge and Skypelt sitting beside Goldstar, who was very still in her nest.

"She's losing a life." Jackdawnudge said gruffly.

"Starclan damn it!" Plumsong shouted after setting down his bundle of herbs.

"It happens, Plumsong. She'll be mostly recovered, at least from the worst of it, by the time the life is gone." Jackdawnudge said and Plumsong peeled back his lips.

"I know that! But Starclan had abandoned us! What if she doesn't come back? What if her lost life starts forming some kind of monster? I was a medicine cat long before you ever were, Jackdaw!" he snapped, bristling.

"Hey, there's no need for that." Petalcurrent butted in, setting her herbs down as well.

"Plumsong has valid worries." Skypelt said, looking down at Goldstar.

She curled around the still form of the leader, burying her nose in her fur, and closed her eyes, likely praying to Starclan that everything would be fine. There was nothing to be done but wait and see, and as they watched, a pale, ghostly shape rose up from Goldstar.

It drifted aimlessly above her, curled and limp, and Plumsong's stomach churned. He held his breath, the four of them with their eyes open watching, waiting. It was taking too long, this wasn't how it was supposed to happen... Then suddenly the pale form of the life jerked, rising higher and higher until it had disappeared into the roof of the den.

Goldstar was still for a little longer, but then her flanks began to move again, and her eyes soon cracked open. The worst of it was gone, but she was still in shock, and as Skypelt rose and pulled away from her, the medicine cats set to work.

They did all they could, but Goldstar was still suffering from the shock, even though she was out of danger, and there was no way she could pick a deputy by moonhigh.

So the clan gathered, save for Lester's kits, Goldstar, and Goldstar's kits, and while it seemed wrong to do this with four of their warriors absent, they had no choice.

The clan cast votes by not shouting for the cat they wanted to stand in, because that could have been messy, but by laying stones gathered from around camp in that cat's nest.

When everyone had placed their stones, Plumsong went and counted them, and there were really only three contenders. But even then, the chosen cat was obvious.

"Skypelt." he said, emerging from the warriors' den.

"Our clan has chosen you to lead us and guide us until Goldstar is able to name our deputy. Do you accept this role? And do you understand it does not mean you are the deputy?" he asked, looking the she-cat down.

She bowed her head.

"I understand, and I accept this role. I will serve my clan however I can." she said and Plumsong nodded.

That was it, then.

Most of the clan gathered outside after that to hold a small vigil for Flintfur even though they did not have his body, and Plumsong returned to his patient.

He couldn't help but notice that Jackdawnudge was curled in his nest, the scent of grief wafting off him, and he was curled up as tightly as a cat could be.

Jackdawnudge was older than Plumsong, and while they had all lost their clans in the great war, Plumsong noticed that since forming Hyacinthclan, Jackdawnudge seemed a bit more effected by grief.

Copsespots and her kits, Ashtalon, and now Flintfur... Each time his fellow medicine cat had been struck heavily by his grief. Plumsong worried that one day, Jackdawnudge might not recover from that grief.

He checked on him, but Jackdawnudge ignored him, and Plumsong curled up with Goldstar, keeping her warm and monitoring her, doing his best to swallow down his own grief, too.

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Goldstar was out of danger, but the shock still took some time to wear off, along with the grief. Plumsong was also concerned that something had gone wrong when she had lost her life. The shock seemed to be gone, and the grief was to be expected, but she was so still and quiet that the medicine cats, and the clan, were worried.

Jackdawnudge was also refusing to leave his nest now, succumbing to his own grief, and Plumsong was glad that Skypelt was taking charge of the clan, because the medicine cats had enough to handle at the moment.

With a clan as small as theirs, especially in a clan formed of such tragedy, every loss hit hard. They were lucky to have only lost five cats over the past thirty-five moons, and each one was still a hard blow.

Copsespots, Firkit, Shrewkit, Ashtalon, and now Flintfur.

And Plumsong couldn't shake it out of his head that Jackdawnudge and Yellowlily, not to mention himself and even Goldstar, were getting on in moons.

More losses were more likely to happen sooner rather than later, and hopefully the clan would be able to recover from them. Of course, losses from old age were far different than the five losses they had suffered.

Yellowlily, Quietback, and Amberpaw were still gone, Yellowpaw and Quailpaw still restricted from the den because they did not need to see their mother like this, when Goldstar finally spoke, the shadows long and the light fading.

"Flintfur...?" she croaked and Plumsong turned away from the thyme he was taking care of.

Goldstar's eyes were open and unfocused, and he rushed over.

"Goldstar? It's Plumsong." he said, crouching in front of his leader.

She looked at him, her eyes dull with grief, and Plumsong had seen this enough times to know that while the shock was gone, the grief was not.

"He's gone." Goldstar whispered and Plumsong nodded.

"I'm so sorry." he said, and he was.

There wasn't a cat in the clan who had disliked Flintfur, and even his prickly old pelt had found comfort in the dark gray warrior.

"How do you feel?" Plumsong asked next.

"Thirsty." Goldstar said, and he fetched water.

Soaked the ball of moss in the little pool in the den, giving it to his patient, and fetched Lester, who got Wasp and Skypelt.

By the time he made it back, Jackdawnudge had heaved himself from his own nest and was curled up with Goldstar, white and dark ginger-spotted pelt and golden, white-marked pelt pressed so close together they seemed to be one cat, and Jackdawnudge was being oddly tender, licking Goldstar's ears.

"Goldstar. I am so sorry." Skypelt said, sympathy pulsing in her voice.

Goldstar nodded, her ears laying back at the sight of all of them, and Lester and Wasp left without a word, being the junior medicine cats. Though Plumsong wasn't quite sure if Jackdawnudge counted as a medicine cat right now, considering he was also a patient.

"Yellowlily, Quietback, and Amberpaw have taken Flintfur to be burned. He is in good paws, Goldstar, you know that." Skypelt assured her and Goldstar gave a dull nod.

Goldstar gave a feeble nod.

"My kits...?" she asked, her eyes filled with worry, despite how dull they looked.

"Quailpaw and Yellowpaw are looking after each other. Yellowpaw is as fine as she can be. She blames herself, little scrap, but we're all making sure she understands that it wasn't her fault." Plumsong said and Goldstar closed her eyes.

"I should-"

"No. You may be their mother, but you are allowed to grieve. And forgive me, Goldstar, but they really shouldn't see you like this. Not right now." Skypelt cut in, her voice firm.

"Goldstar, I hate to ask right now, but we need to know. What... What happened when you lost your life? Was it like what Amberpaw described?" Plumsong asked, because they had to know.

Starclan had been silent for eight moons now, and while Amberpaw had revived, Flintfur and others had died, and no leaders had lost lives (that they knew of) since all this had started happening.

"I... I was on the Beach of Stars. But it wasn't... It was quite right. I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything. I felt... Stuck." Goldstar said, her breath hitching.

She had lost a life before, and this was certainly not how it had gone. The beach and the ocean were consistent with what Amberpaw had said, but being on the sand rather than the water and being stuck was not.

"Then?" Skypelt prompted.

"I think... Flintfur... I think he guided me to Starclan." Goldstar said softly and Plumsong's ears pricked.

"You made it to Starclan?" he asked, shocked.

"Someone... A cat with gray fur... They pulled me into the water. And when I surfaced, I was standing in Starclan. I saw Mallowstar." she said, referring to the last lives-blessed leader of Oleanderclan.

"Did she say anything?" Plumsong asked softly.

"I couldn't hear her. It was like she was trying to speak underwater. There was... Something between us." Goldstar said and laid her head on her paws.

"I'm sorry. That's all I remember." she said, voice growing soft as she did.

"Don't apologize." Plumsong said sharply, because this was better news than he had hoped for.

Well, not exactly better, but it at least meant despite all the strangeness, Starclan was still there. Still trying to talk to them, it seemed. Even if they were unable. But that still left all the questions they had been grappling with for moons, and part of Plumsong wanted to demand more answers out of Goldstar, but he knew she did not have them.

There was nothing more to discuss right now. Goldstar was in clearly no state to choose a deputy, so they let her have peace. She refused the mouse Plumsong brought her and he let it go now, bringing her herbs instead that she lapped up. Then she curled up with Jackdawnudge and closed her eyes, the two pressing tightly against each other.

Plumsong let them be, sitting at the entrance of the den, watching as the last of light slipped away. He would tell Lester and Wasp what Goldstar had said soon, but right now, he wanted to ponder it. What did it mean? Why was Starclan cut off from them? Why did this cut Starclan off from them in the first place?

Clearly, Starlcan was aware and trying, but what was this ocean and beach? It wasn't truly the Beach of Stars. And a cat with gray fur... Had it been Flintfur? Another warrior? Perhaps Ashtalon? But no, the length must have been obvious, and Flintfur had- had had long fur. So not Ashtalon.

Had it been... Had it been Skypelt? Plumsong had to wonder that for an instant. After all, the she-cat had curled up with Goldstar, and shortly after, Goldstar's life had broken free.

But no. No, Skypelt had never shown any unusual abilities nor had she come to him or Jackdawnudge about dreams or omens.

Then again, Amberpaw had seemed completely normal... Until he had been killed. And he somehow possessed the ability to sense the Unseen as well.

It was late when Plumsong sought out Skypelt, Wasp and Lester informed, thoughts to be puzzled over even though no answers would come.

Tumbledaisy was perched in the tree as the rainwatcher, as usual, a post she took pride in, because admittedly, a blind cat as a warrior could be difficult at times, but these days, well... But her sense of smell was unrivaled, and she had proved wonderful at detecting rainfalls.

Skypelt was sitting at the edge of camp, looking out over the ocean, and Plumsong joined her.

"Skypelt, I need to ask.. Have you ever had strange dreams before? Anything... Unusual... That you can't quite explain?" Plumsong asked bluntly when neither of them said anything.

Skypelt blinked, swiveling her head, and angled her ears.

"What? Like Amberpaw?" she asked after a beat, as if processing his words.

"Yes, or something else." Plumsong said and Skypelt shook her head.

"Not that I know of." Skypelt replied, letting out a soft mrrow. "Why?"

"I was just wondering." Plumsong said, shaking his head.

It had been foolish. They had been in a clan together for thirty-five moons, had traveled here before that, and surely he would have noticed if there was something strange about her, if she had dreams or abilities.

Skypelt nodded and Plumsong began to get to his paws, but Skypelt spoke.

"Plumsong... If you don't mind, would sit with me for a while? I could use some company." she said and Plumsong was surprised.

But he found he couldn't deny her the request and he sat next to her, their pelts brushing, looking up at the stars until, finally, they both returned to their nests.

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"Let all cats of the clan gather beneath the tree for a clan meeting!"

Goldstar's voice rang out clearly through the clearing, but the clan had more or less already been waiting, and it hardly took them any time to gather.

Goldstar had certainly looked better and she was still grieving deeply, but she had managed to get up from her nest and speak to her kits, and today she was doing her duty to the clan by appointing the new deputy.

Yellowlily, Quietback, and Amberpaw had returned by this point, and they had told them how the journey to and from had gone, as well as how the burning had gone. It seemed to have worked as originally planned, which was good, and Goldstar plunged on.

"I need to appoint our new deputy. Flintfur... Flintfur served us well, but we can not have the place vacant, and he would understand. So Starclan, hear and approve my choice. Skypelt, if you are willing, I would like to become Hyacinthclan's new deputy." Goldstar said, and no one was surprised.

Skypelt stepped forward and bowed her head respectfully.

"I am willing, Goldstar."

"Do you swear to uphold the duties of a deputy, to look after your clan, to care for them when I am unable, and to ultimately lead them when I am gone?" Goldstar asked, not the traditional words, exactly, but much about their clan was not traditional.

"I do."

"Then I am name you deputy of Hyacinthclan. May you serve us well." Goldstar said, leaping down to rest her muzzle on Skypelt's forehead.

When she was done, she climbed back into the tree, waiting until the clan's cheers had died down. The cheers felt almost inappropriate with their grief, but they cheered anyway.

"And there is another matter I need to address. Yellowpaw, you not only lost your father, you lost your mentor. And you need a new one. I will mentor you, when I am able, and for now, I ask that Civetbeak take Yellowpaw on alongside Amberpaw, if you can." she said, looking at the dark warrior.

Buzzardglide leaned over and repeated the words in her brother's ears.

"Yes, leader, I am fine with that." Civetbeak said with a nod, and that was it.

Goldstar ended the meeting and slipped back into her den, and Plumsong followed after. She was still grieving, still in pain, and so was Jackdawnudge. Well, they all were, but those two cats, they were suffering from it the most.

But, at least, Goldstar had ensured that even in her grief, the clan had stability, and that was all Plumsong could ask her for right now. He had to hope, that in the moons to comes, despite another loss, that Hyacinthclan would recover once more.