#stonefern

Myrtlewing could scent terror wafting through the chill air stronger than if a mouse had been trapped beneath his claws. Intrigued, he wriggled out from beneath Alderstar’s leg as his mate grumbled in his sleep, stepping over Grousemane and Hootpetal, as well as the young Magpiepaw, who had recently joined them.

He followed the scent, glad to have something solid to follow, after many moons living with continuously shifting winds and light that shone from seemingly nowhere, illuminating underbrush at random. A perfect sense of direction was perhaps the most craved skill residences learn to cherish.

Myrtlewing had lived–or was dead–for long enough to learn how to use his, and coupled with the overpowering smell, it wasn’t long before he came across a white and black tomcat.

The tom had been trembling worse than rocks down a cliff, mumbling something Myrtlewing couldn’t quite catch other than “dogs.” When he spotted Myrtlewing, he leaped out of his fur, pelt spiking up and eyes going wide. His breathing quickened. He was hyperventilating. 

Myrtlewing watched him curiously. He hadn’t planned on attacking whoever he came across, merely to follow the scent and decide when he wanted to. He guessed that this was an apprentice, considering his skinnier frame and slightly smaller size. Too, he guessed that he had just arrived to the Place of No Stars, a reason for his freaking out, either because he was dead or in regret of his actions, as many did.

Myrtlewing wasn’t sure what it was. Perhaps it was because the tom looked young, perhaps it was because he made him think of Magpiepaw and how she was close to his age, or perhaps it was the mention of “dogs” that made him pause. After all, it was the manner in which he had his life taken from him. Had this young cat died the same way? 

The tom hadn’t moved, too busy shaking like a leaf. Myrtlewing rolled his eyes in exasperation before padding closer. The tom shrank to the ground, unable to do more than flatten himself. Myrtlewing stopped beside him and lay down with him, not close enough to touch except for his tail, which he laid across the young cat’s shoulders.

After what felt like forever, the tom’s body moved in lower and lower breaths. He blinked at Myrtlewing in an expression that conveyed a mix of gratitude, fear, and confusion. Now that he felt better, Myrtlewing stood up to stretch. Then he began to walk away.

“Wait!” The tomcat took a step after him. But he seemed lost for words when Myrtlewing looked back at him. After a second, he managed to say, “I’m Stonepaw. Thanks for…what you did.”

Myrtlewing dipped his head. His pupils were pink. That was interesting. “Myrtlewing.”

“I don’t know where I am in this place,” Stonepaw told him, still a bit shaky.

“Why? Need to get to camp?” Myrtlewing asked humorously. 

“I don’t….I don’t want to get lost.” He swallowed, as if already expecting denial. “Can I come with you?”

Myrtlewing stopped to consider it. It would make things interesting, and that is what he came all the way here for. He gestured for Stonepaw to follow him, imagining his poly’s reactions as they see that he brought another apprentice home.

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--MADE ALL IN ONE GO LET’S GO

--There is a moment of “he might be like me” which is partially why Myrtlewing is kind to him. He’s more inclined to like someone if they remind him of himself. It’s not love as “normal” people would see it, but he will come to love Stone (and all his kits and poly members) in his own strange way. 

--Right now he’s not adopting Stone, just bringing him somewhere safe.

--I am curious of Stone’s and Magpie’s reactions when they see each other and are like “oh shit.”

--Stone’s personality might be a bit off here. But he’s also still a child, did just die, and did just end up in Hell, also right after killing a bunch of his Clanmates. 

--You don’t see his wound cause I imagine it’s on the back of his head. I definitely didn’t forget it.

Stonefern sat, waiting for his father to finish playing–or perhaps fighting–with Doverose. The two toms were pulling on opposite sides of a stick, tails waving like dogs. He would wonder who would win if he weren’t so anxious, instead shifted his paws until they created dents in the ground beneath them.

It wasn’t too long before the twig snapped, sending both toms flying backward. Stonefern was thankful that they weren’t play-fighting where the ground was messy. He didn’t feel like cleaning the sprayed bits of mud from his white fur. 

From his place on the ground, Grousemane could see Stonefern. He grinned at his son before standing up and padding toward him. “Seems that we’ll have to break the tie another time,” Grousemane called to Doverose. 

“Not to worry, little Grouse, I love beating you,” Doverose responded, before picking up his half and padding away.

“You saw I almost won,” Grousemane nudged Stonefern.

“Yeah,” Stonefern replied absently. 

“Did you stop just to watch, or do you want to play too?”

Stonefern shrugged, but it was tense. “Just wanted to get away for a bit.”

“Ah, that I understand.” Grousemane wrapped his tail around Stonefern and gave his ear a swift lick. “Searching for old pops to rescue you, then?”

“‘Pops’?”

“Yeah, pops! Pops, papa. That’s who I am.”

“I prefer ‘dad.’ It’s normal.”

“Do you call all three of us ‘dad’?”

“I use different tones.”

“Right, the happy tone for me and annoyed ones for them.”

“Sure.” Stonefern cracked a smile. The distraction was making him feel better, less constrained. He knew this dad would do that. 

“What did you want to get away from, anyway? If you ask me, that Birchhawk would make far better company. Aren’t you too friends? Or were you friends?”

The smile dissipated, and Stonefern’s paws began working into the ground again. 

“Hey, hey, slow down!” Grousemane moved to still Stonefern’s paws with his own. “Talk to me. Did Birchhawk say something?”

Stonefern wanted to growl in frustration, or perhaps just run, but he couldn’t do that with his dad. It would stir more questions than answers. He wanted to get away from thinking about Birchhawk. He didn’t want to have to talk about it, not so soon, but at the same time he knew that he had to face the fact now, and really, sooner was better than later. “Birchhawk….told me he liked me,” he admitted through gritted teeth.

Grousemane tilted his head. “But you have to let him down?”

“Not just him!” Stonefern’s tail whipped. “Everyone who might confess. But I don’t want to hurt them….and what if Birchhawk doesn’t want to be friends anymore?”

“Not be friends with you?” Grousemane sounded shocked. “Of course he would, no matter what you say!” Then, pausing, he asked, “why everyone?”

“Because it’s….” Stonefern searched for the right words to say. “It just…It doesn’t feel right for me.”

Grousemane gave him a questioning look.

“Being mates,” he clarified.

“Ah!” Grousemane nodded in understanding. “That’s not uncommon. I think it’s called aromanticism.”

Stonefern pricked his ears. “It has a name?” He had thought he was just weird.

“Yep, cats who aren’t interested in relationships. And then there’s ‘asexual,’ cats who’re not into the physical stuff–”

“Okay, gross!” Stonefern stuck out his tongue. Grousemane chuckled at him, and Stonefern was surprised to realize that his smile had returned. But again, it faltered. “What if Birchhawk doesn’t understand? Or he doesn’t want to be around someone he can’t be with and leaves?”

Grousemane nuzzled Stonefern’s cheek. “If you tell him who you are, and he leaves, he wasn’t worth being with in the first place.”

“But he’s fun,” Stonefern sighed. “I don’t want to hurt him, and….I don’t want him to think I’m weird.”

Grousemane licked his ear again, then the space between them. “What did you say before you came running for me?”

“That I needed to think about it. He looked sad.”

Grousemane’s muzzle twisted, as though the words he wanted to say were somewhere in his mouth and he had to find them. He let out a heavy breath. “You’re ‘decapitated-head dad’ is better at this whole talking deal, strangely enough.”

Stonefern was going to point out that he hadn’t wanted to talk but to get away from having to, but he didn’t want his father to feel like he didn’t want him. “You flirt with everyone, I figured you would know a thing or two about rejection,” he joked.

“I’m a flirt,” Grousemane replied, “it’s fun. But it’s only fun, Myrtlewing’s the only one I need.”

Stonefern looked down. “What if Birchhawk feels that way about me? And I let him down, and he has no one?”

Grousemane placed his paw beneath Stonefern’s chin and raised it so that he looked into the younger cat’s eyes. “Stop spiraling. You don’t even know what he will say. If it’s bad, he has an eternity to get over it.”

Stonerfern thought about that, then thought about an eternity without his close friend. 

“Stop thinking,” Grousemane told him, standing up and pushing Stonefern to do the same. “No point wondering what will happen. You have to tell him at some point. Want me to come with you?”

Stonefern shook his head. He was still nervous–incredibly nervous–about having to let Birchhawk down. At the same time, he knew now what he was, who he was, and that he wasn’t weird at all for it. “I’ll tell him tomorrow,” he decided before his nerves got the better of him. “I haven’t seen my younger brothers and sisters in a while.”

Grousemane grinned. “Well, let’s go see them!” He led the way to the Eye-out thorns. Stonefern followed. Even as the ground shifted to mud that sucked at his fur and weighed him down, he felt light.

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--Doverose is tall and chunky, so I imagine he calls lots of cats ‘little.’ 

--Birchhawk is a random name I came up with, do with him what you want!

--Fun fact! I myself am also aroace! Stonefern’s experience isn’t based on my own, though.

AlderGrouseMyrtleHoot+ kits:

--Magpiepaw/shine (adoptive)

--Stonepaw/fern (adoptive)

--Perchpaw/claw (adoptive)

--Treekit/spall and Drizzlekit/stare (Alder and Hoot bio)

Perch then adopts his own kit with Vireosong.

--Redpaw

The poly then craves more kits. With Brownmouse as the donor, Grousemane has

--Starlingkit/strike, Buzzardkit/blaze, Duskkit/song, and Aspenkit/light

The kits snuck out of their home before they were old enough, and was brought back by Shrikepaw, who was later adopted

--Shrikepaw

Treespall then had his own kits with his poly, Ratthorn and Stonefrost

--Hollymist (adoptive) and Heatherfrond (bio)

Drizzlestare had kits with her own poly as well, with Kestralstorm and Blazestrike

--Spottedtooth (adoptive), Willowcloud, and Wolfpool (bio)

Alderstar and Myrtlewing have kits with Tanglestar as their donor, they have

--Fallenkit/iris and Waspkit/beak

Falleniris grew up and became mates with Blackfinch. With her, she had two daughters

--Scabdrip and Blightrain

Six moons later, Dusksong had kits with a non-romantic partner that gave him custody

--Thornpool, Whitebriar, Archwing, and Thistleeye. 

Three moons after the four were born, Dusksong’s littermate, Buzzardblaze, had kits with Pheasentdust 

--Condorburn, Harrierflame, and Falconember

Though still not romantically or otherwise interested in each other, Hootpetal had three kits, one of each being the kit of Alderstar, Myrtlewing and Grousemane

--Shallowfig (AlderHoot), Funnelquail (GrouseHoot), and Hemlockpine (MyrtleHoot)

When he was twenty-two moons old, Shallowfig had kits with a she-cat that he was only in a casual relationship with. They planned on breaking up as soon as the kits were weaned, and he was given full custody. Later, Banshee would help Shallowfig raise them

--Poppykit, Tendrilkit, Mylingkit, Racemekit

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Timeline of the Kits:

1) Magpieshine died at six moons, and was adopted by the poly a few moons after (formally, technically adopting her shortly following her death).

2) Stonefern died at eight moons, two moons after Magpie. He was adopted shortly after. They are very close to the same age.

3) Perchclaw died at eleven moons, three years after the deaths of Stonefern and Magpieshine. He was adopted shortly after. He is just over two years younger, though became a warrior at the same time.

4) Treespall and Drizzlestare were conceived two moons after the apprentices earned their warrior names, while Between then and before they were born, Perchclaw became mates with Vireosong.

5) Redpaw died at five moons, and was adopted by Perchclaw and Vireosong.

6) Buzzardblaze, Starlingstrike, Aspenlight, and Dusksong were born six moons after Treespall and Drizzlestare were grown and moved out, making them eighteen moons younger. 

7) Shrikepaw was adopted 

8) three moons after 6 were born, Heatherfrond and Hollymist were born

9) one moon after 8 were born, Wolfpool, Spottedtooth, and Willowcloud were born

10) Waspbeak and Falleniris were born when 9 were fourteen moons old, making them fourteen moons younger.

11) Scabdrip and Blightrain were born when Falleniris was twenty-six moons old, making them that much younger and younger than their cousins, 9, by 40 moons.

12) Thornpool, Thistleeye, Archwing, and Whitebriar were born six moons after 11 were born, making them that much younger and likely born when Scabdrip and Blightrain became apprentices.

13) Condorburn, Harrierflame, and Falconember were born three moons after their cousins, 12, making them that much younger.

14) Shallowfig, Funnelquail, and Hemlockpine were born when 11 were 32, making them 32 moons younger than them and 58 moons younger than their closest-in-age siblings.

15) Racemekit, Poppykit, Tendrilkit, and Mylingkit were born when he was young, twenty-three moons, making them twenty-three moons younger than him.

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--Stone, Magpie, and Perch became warriors around the same time in spite of the age difference because at that point, it was not common to earn names after death.

No worries, they're just training

--

1) he understands and it’s all good