The clerics breathe easy for a bit as Leathermask, Waspdawn, and Vasco all leave their care. Still, Troutpool has to explain to Midnightpaw that his eyesight is failing and may worsen over the moons. At least he can somewhat see.
[Image ID: Vasco, Waspdawn, and Leathermask wander off in the background while Troutpool talks to Midnightpaw. Under Vasco and Waspdawn, it says - CONDITION: YELLOWCOUGH (X2). Under Leathermask, it says - CONDITION: TORN PELT. In the foreground, Midnightpaw has scars over his left eye, turning it white and blind. Under him, it reads - CONDITION: DAMAGED EYES, + PERMANENT CONDITION: FAILING EYESIGHT, + NEW SKILL: CONFIDENT WITH WORDS.]
(Vasco: 15, female, Witch Hunter, lonesome, great kitsitter)
(Waspdawn: 70, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)
(Leathermask: 52, male, warrior, confident, good fighter, eloquent speaker)
(Troutpool: 65, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sight, good climber)
The frostbite Weevilsight sustained has left its mark on her face, making her feel odd compared to other clerics.
[Image ID: Anchovystrike stands in front of Weevilsight, who has frostbite scars on her face. He growls at Spikecrash, "The scars make my mate look more like herself, not some murderous coward. Morningpaw should know better!" Spikecrash replies tactfully, "Morningpaw meant nothing by the Autumnstar comment." Under Weevilsight, it says - CONDITION: FROSTBITE.]
(Spikecrash: 79, female, mediator, wise, good speaker, lore keeper)
(Anchovystrike: 39, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)
(Weevilsight: 39, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
Darkkick welcomes Rapidleaf to the elder’s den. Meanwhile, Weevilsight and Anchovystrike decide to have a litter together.
[Image ID: Rapidleaf talks to Darkkick as Weevilsight and Anchovystrike return to camp. Darkkick whispers, "I think I know where those two went…" Under Weevilsight, it says + CONDITION: PREGNANT.]
(Darkkick: 152, trans female, elder, lonesome, talented swimmer, understands nature)
(Anchovystrike: 39, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)
(Weevilsight: 39, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
Berrykit, Sunkit, and Skykit pester Gingerspring and the other clerics.
[Image ID: Berrykit, Sunkit, and Skykit all have their full kit sprites, and they all face Gingerspring, who yowls "Estherfern! Remind me not to have kits!" Estherfern, walking in the background, yowls, "I have no sympathy!" Under Berrykit, it says + NEW SKILL: LOVER OF STORIES. Under Sunkit, it says + NEW SKILL: QUICK WITTED. Under Skykit, it says + NEW SKILL: SPLASHES IN PUDDLES.]
(Berrykit: 1, male, kit, bullying, lover of stories)
(Sunkit: 1, male, kit, fearless, quick witted)
(Skykit: 1, female, kit, know-it-all, splashes in puddles)
(Gingerspring: 20, male, cleric, charismatic, human expert, good hunter)
(Estherfern: 138, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)
Thundergale is a good aunt and spends time with her sister’s kits.
[Image ID: Lightkit, Snakekit, and Fuzzykit listen to their aunt Thundergale while Goldenkit stands behind Thundergale. The kits all have their full kit sprites. Snakekit cries, "Thundergale, Goldenkit is copying you!" even though Thundergale can't hear her. Under Lightkit, it says + NEW SKILL: LOVER OF ART. Under Snakekit, it says + NEW SKILL: QUICK TO MAKE PEACE. Under Fuzzykit, it says + NEW SKILL: STARES AT FIRE. Under Goldenkit, it says + NEW SKILL: CHEWS ON STICKS.]
(Lightkit: 1, female, kit, daydreamer, lover of art)
(Snakekit: 1, female, kit, polite, quick to make peace)
(Fuzzykit: 1, male, kit, unruly, stares at fire)
(Thundergale: 36, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)
(Goldenkit: 1, male, kit, bullying, chews on sticks)
Beepaw practices battle moves with Puddlewhisper, Morningpaw, and Icepounce, but he smacks his head against debris washed on-shore and knocks himself out.
[Image ID: Morningpaw, Puddlewhisper, and Icepounce stare at a pink silhouette lying on its side in the distance, blood pooling underneath. The silhouette is really Beepaw, with + CONDITION: HEAD DAMAGE written underneath. Puddlewhisper yowls, "Careful!" in vain.]
(Morningpaw: 8, male, teacher apprentice, confident, eye for details)
(Puddlewhisper: 70, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)
(Icepounce: 14, male, teacher, adventurous, fast as the wind, natural intuition)
Although Vasco wants to return home now that she feels better, Chicorycough and Sandhollow convince her to stay, at least until the epidemic is over.
[Image ID: Sandhollow and Chicorycough speak with Vasco. Sandhollow says, "We don't know how many Rat Leaders are infecting the settlement. It would be safer to wait it out."]
(Vasco: 15, female, Witch Hunter, lonesome, great kitsitter)
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With her mother dead, Quickpaw wishes to live with her lost littermates as a historian rather than a mediator. Boughfur promises to restart her training and help her catch up to everyone else.
[Image ID: Pearbranch and Icepaw, both with adult sprites, gather around an adult Quickpaw. Under her, it reads NEW(ISH) PLAYER: QUICKPAW, 12, FEMALE, AMBITIOUS, GOOD SWIMMER. Behind the siblings, Boughfur says, "Lettucestar might not like losing a Clanmate, but he values family. He wouldn't keep you from yours."]
"I'm not going to tell anyone," Boughfur chuckled as Icepaw and Pearbranch paced around the border. "Just be honest. How often did you see her?"
"Usually every new moon," Pearbranch said, absently clawing the side of a tree.
"Pearbranch!" Icepaw whined, hopping up from where he rested.
"She said she won't tell!" Pearbranch huffed.
"Not that it matters anymore," Boughfur purred. "You'll be able to spend your first proper Longest Night together. You won't have to worry about politics anymore."
It was hard to say it would be a "proper" Longest Night, Icepaw thought. The holiday was just a few days away, and despite winter chill claiming the land, there had been no snow. Rather than trotting through snow and ice, as Icepaw's earliest memories recalled, he slipped on frosty leaves long since crumbled under the weight of passing deer. Had it been so snowless and gray when Puddlewhisper found Icepaw and Pearbranch? And now, a year later, the lost daughter was rejoining her litter.
The sunrise illuminated the gaps of the trees, making it easy to see the approaching figure. Icepaw and Pearbranch both perked their ears and tightened their chests. Quickpaw's brown eyes looked orange in the winter dawn, gleaming with hope.
"Hi," Quickpaw laughed, voice cracking with a joyful cry.
Icepaw and Pearbranch surged past Boughfur before the older historian could say a word. Pearbranch wrapped her front paws around Quickpaw, purring deeply. Icepaw pressed his head into Quickpaw's cheek. Quickpaw pulled her brother and sister close, laughing through what few sobs escaped.
"Welcome to RippleClan, Quickpaw," Boughfur said, stirring Icepaw from his blinding joy. "The Clan is excited to greet you."
"I, uh," Quickpaw gulped, collecting her breath, "I hope it wasn't hard to get Lettucestar to let me go." Pearbranch groomed Quickpaw's neck, as though trying to clean off the stench of still water and mud.
"Lettucestar might not like losing a Clanmate," Boughfur explained, "but he values family. He wouldn't keep you from yours."
"You'll be a historian in no time!" Pearbranch declared. She hesitated, however, stepping back and adding, "If you still want to switch paths, I mean."
"I do," Quickpaw sighed with a dip of her head. "I like science more than diplomacy. I'll be happier as a historian."
"That's why Oilstar asked me to meet you," Boughfur chuckled, moving close. "We discussed who would be the best choice of mentor, and Oilstar thought I would do well."
"You're Boughfur, right?" Quickpaw said. "I've spent some time with your sisters."
"You'll be my first apprentice," Boughfur chirped, adjusting the dry flowers on her pelt. "I promise, I won't treat you like a kit. You're an adult, and I want to respect that, even if you have to restart your training. I want us to be partners more than mentor and apprentice."
"I like that," Quickpaw purred. She touched noses with her new mentor, shimmering with anticipation.
"Quickpaw, Quickpaw!" Icepaw cheered, laughing. When Quickpaw gave him an odd look, he huffed, "We weren't at your apprentice ceremony! Feels right to chant your name now."
"Quickpaw, Quickpaw!" Pearbranch chanted, kneading the limp leaves. Quickpaw laughed and waved her siblings back to her side.
"Quick, Sleek, and Silent," Quickpaw chuckled as Icepaw and Pearbranch pressed into her. "Back together again."
(Boughfur: 34, female, historian, righteous, great climber)
(Pearbranch: 12, female, historian, righteous, good hunter, good storyteller)
(Quickpaw: 12, female, historian apprentice, ambitious, good swimmer)
Speaking with Quickpaw about her grief for her mother helps Honeybuzz heal from Stormjump’s death.
[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Quickpaw sit in the medicine den together. Quickpaw says, "It's hard to grieve her when everyone here hates her." Under Honeybuzz, it says - CONDITION: GRIEVING.]
---
Honeybuzz was not the right cat to introduce Longest Night to his sons. He wasn't in a particularly festive mood that year, and the kits didn't deserve to have such a great night ruined by grief and bitterness. There were plenty of clerics in RippleClan to conduct the night's religious rites. Honeybuzz could organize the medicine den. That was for the best.
While it was a snowless holiday, it was far from warm. Half the Clan stayed near the main bonfire, tucked under long pelts and in each other's embrace. Others fixed the torches along the edge of camp and muttered prayers to their respective Celestials. They traded gifts or gathered around Frostdancer, who expertly played the Gutpluck. Beekit, Morningkit, and Patchkit were with Yellowburst and Sandhollow, enjoying a wide collection of gifts from their aunt and various uncles.
Now it is important to mention that Honeybuzz was not neglected on that cold and bitter night. His gifts neatly lined his nest. His brothers each carved a leaf into a chunk of wood, a piece of art to always remind Honeybuzz that he was loved. Troutpool revealed a new mortar and pestle for the medicine den, and the other clerics each gave each other dyed mossballs. They certainly brightened the dim, empty medicine den, but the light merely swirled around Honeybuzz's heart. It had yet to penetrate.
"Hi, Honeybuzz." Honeybuzz had been cupping his cicada wing necklace in his paw, staring mindlessly at the half-preserved membrane, when Quickpaw's voice startled him back to reality. The newcomer had a new necklace around her neck, carrying two wooden charms; one a diamond, the other a foreign shape, like a small circle sitting on a larger one.
Honeybuzz must have been staring for longer than he intended, as Quickpaw glanced at her gift and said, "Oh, my siblings surprised me with this. The diamond is supposed to be a shard of ice, and this thing is shaped like a pear. They would have made something for me, but what shape represents quick? Heh."
"It's a good gift," Honeybuzz hummed. "So, what do you need?"
"I think all this socialization is giving me a headache," Quickpaw sighed, squeezing her eyes tight. "Icepaw said I could use his 'stash', whatever that means." Honeybuzz scoffed softly, flicking his ears toward the patient nests. He led Quickpaw further into the shadows.
A small jar sat inside one of the nests. While faded in the dark, Honeybuzz could see the diamond carved into the side of the terracotta. So that was the symbol's meaning…
"Icepaw spends quite a bit of time in here with his chronic headaches," Honeybuzz explained. "We decided that rather than prepare fresh medicine every time he needed it, we could give Icepaw a jar of herbs he could lick from when he came in. Gingerspring figured out what herbs best help your brother and keeps the jar stocked. Just take a tongue-ful." Honeybuzz carefully undid the leather lid, revealing a chunky powder of dandelion, feverfew, and valerian root. Quickpaw stuck her muzzle in, flinching as the pottery rubbed awkwardly against her whiskers. She licked up a dose of the medicine and pulled back, smacking her lips.
"You would think I'd be used to talking with everyone," Quickpaw sighed, glancing back toward the party. "I spent half my life training for it. This just feels different." Wait, was Quickpaw going to vent to Honeybuzz? This was far from the night where Honeybuzz could offer a kind ear.
"If you're overwhelmed," Honeybuzz sighed, sealing the jar, "I'm sure you can sleep early. You could join Puddlewhisper and your siblings. I overheard Icepaw brag about sleeping in the warrior's den tonight."
"I don't know if Puddlewhisper would really welcome me," Quickpaw groaned, taking a seat near Weevilsight's nest. And Honeybuzz only encouraged her, how wonderful. "She's been nothing but nice, but I'm not one of her kits. Nimblestep will always be my mom… but some cats might resent that."
Honeybuzz sighed. It seemed there was no hiding from the world that night. If Stormjump were around, she would have encouraged someone, anyone, to go see Honeybuzz, whether their tail was falling off or they had a cough. Could she have nudged Quickpaw Honeybuzz's way? He should help her, he was a father after all, these were the sort of things fathers should be able to work through. What if it were Patchkit asking those questions?
"I don't see how anyone could resent you for something you didn't do," Honeybuzz pointed out, taking a reluctant seat.
"I guess it's a SlugClan habit," Quickpaw sighed. "There's a belief over there that if someone avoids judgment, their children must answer in their stead. It restores power to StarClan, I think. Mom told me not to put my faith in that, but it does make me think. Should I be doing something to make up for what my mom did to RippleClan? Would I feel less guilty?" Quickpaw hid behind her whiskers as she added, "I know it doesn't make a lot of sense, but that's feelings for you."
"That all sounds like yet another tradition our founders wanted to leave behind," Honeybuzz huffed. "You are your own molly here, Quickpaw. You leave your own legacy."
"That's true," Quickpaw admitted with another glance outside. She took a big breath and said, "It's hard to grieve her when everyone here hates her."
"From Icepaw's stories," Honeybuzz sighed, "you're not one to back away from bullies." Honeybuzz rolled the orange-dyed moss-ball, made by Gingerspring, under his paw. "I'm sure if someone is selfish enough to yowl at you for grieving, you can show them who's in the wrong."
"Right once again," Quickpaw chuckled softly. "I guess that's cleric wisdom."
"Might just be Honeybuzz wisdom," Honeybuzz hummed. "Have you met Gingerspring?" Quickpaw snorted, nodding along to the harsh joke. Honeybuzz suddenly realized it was the first joke he had told since the Ocean's Assault.
"I think Icepaw's 'stash' is starting to help my headache," Quickpaw purred, stretching her flank high. "Thank you, Honeybuzz. I think I can face the crowd again. Are you going to stay in here all night?" Honeybuzz looked outside. Beekit, Morningkit, and Patchkit had left Yellowburst and Sandhollow behind in favor of trying out the large drum Rattlepelt saved from the flood. Patchkit beat awkwardly to the rhythm of Frostdancer's music.
"Perhaps I shouldn't," Honeybuzz hummed.
The light of the bonfire inched past the cold and warmed Honeybuzz's heart.
(Honeybuzz: 50, male, cleric, daring, sklled toolsmith, good teacher)
(Quickpaw: 12, female, historian apprentice, ambitious, good swimmer)
Waspdawn comes down with Vasco’s yellowcough, making the clerics, Wolfgaze, and Anchovystrike wonder if the Rat Leaders in the human settlement may grow to affect RippleClan more with their new arrivals.
[Image ID: The five clerics, Wolfgaze, and Anchovystrike gather together. Honeybuzz says, "We can’t predict what loners we’ll come across. Anchovystrike should examine all visitors for rat leaders." Waspdawn and Vasco stand in the back. Under Waspdawn, it says + CONDITION: YELLOWCOUGH.]
Despite fighting his infection, Waspdawn puts the pieces together regarding recent events and confronts his culprit.
[Image ID: Waspdawn says to Oilstripe "Before we do anything, I need to talk to her. I need to understand. Can you be my backup, Oilstripe?"]
Potterypool killed Achilles. At least, she helped, if what Vervaincough and Venturedapple reported was true. It would explain the long brown fur found in her wounds. But Achilles could not have killed Potterypool or Lightningrunner. There was someone else involved. And as Waspdawn thought it through, the faceless spirit that haunted RippleClan over the course of an entire moon began to speak its name.
"I'm not sure you're well enough for this, Waspdawn," Oilstripe muttered as Waspdawn bit an itch just under his bandages. It hurt whenever the tip of his tail touched anything, and his fever came and went, but he still stood in the leader's den with Oilstripe, explaining his theory as night began to fall.
"It's a conversation," Waspdawn huffed. "If she puts up a fight, there are plenty of souls in camp to help me."
"We should just send Wolfgaze to fetch her," Oilstripe sighed, peering around Waspdawn and into the snowy camp. "She can freeze her and bring her for questioning."
"I need to be sure," Waspdawn grunted, moving back in front of his deputy. "Before we do anything, I need to talk to her. I need to understand. Can you be my backup, Oilstripe?" Oilstripe stared at something to Waspdawn's side. A spirit? He could only guess when Oilstripe's eyes wandered. If it was Potterypool or Lightningrunner's ghosts, maybe they could just confirm Waspdawn's accusations and they would all be done with it. But that wasn't how Oilstripe's powers worked, was it?
"She's on Downstar's hunting patrol," Oilstripe finally sighed. "It's nearly last light. They should be back soon. I'll let you have your confrontation, but I'm stepping in the moment she tries to run. Do you understand?" Waspdawn nodded deeply, chin touching his chest. Oilstripe sighed again, shaking out her inner fury.
The two cats left Downstar's den, eyes sharpening with the brilliant glow of the camp's bonfire. Oilstripe paced around the Shiprock, but Waspdawn lingered close to the nursery. Deep within the warm den, Puddlewhisper laid with her back to the world. Waspdawn could hear the gentle sniffles and shuffles of his new niece and nephew inside, hidden at his sister's belly. Barely a day together, and Puddlewhisper seemed perfectly content with the pair. Try as he might, the same warmth that filled his chest when Gingerpaw and Frostpaw were born simply wasn't there this time. These kits were meant for a different life, a life stolen from them by not just their selfish mother but by Potterypool and the culprit that would soon return home. Those kits deserved an answer to the question of their lives.
As the last creeping vines of sunlight snaked deeper into the forest and out of sight, Downstar entered the camp, a large fish in her jaws. Her fluffy pelt stuck up at odd angles, damp from saltwater. Oilstripe and Waspdawn jogged to meet her.
"Remind me to bring Drumtooth on more rafting patrols," Downstar purred, gently setting her salty catch down. "He's a natural diver." Drumtooth and Asterblaze, both as damp as their leader, whipped around Downstar, Oilstripe, and Waspdawn with their own catches, quickly placing them on the fresh-kill pile and racing for the bonfire. Downstar's good mood dimmed as the expressions on Oilstripe and Waspdawn's faces sunk in.
"I'll explain over here," Oilstripe muttered as the culprit crept between the thorns lining the camp entrance, her pelt perfectly dry, her yellow collar standing out like a sunbeam with the fire's glow. Waspdawn forced his eyes to soften as Oilstripe guided Downstar to the side of camp.
"Lemmy," Waspdawn said casually. "Good hunting?"
"You'll have to thank Drumtooth, not me," Lemmy sighed with a dismissive twitch of her whiskers. "I stayed on shore and made sure the raft didn't capsize." She moved as though about to walk past Waspdawn, but paused and stared closer at him. "You seem tense." Her own face dropped, ever so slightly. "Something happened to Mosspounce."
"No, no," Waspdawn stammered, quickly shaking his head. "No, Mosspounce is alright, he was sharing tongues with Washington when I last saw him." Lemmy's prickly fur relaxed. "No, I just wanted to talk to you, in private. Can we sit at the Resting Place?"
"If you need to," Lemmy hummed, stretching her back out. "Let's make this quick, though. I'm ready to sleep." Lemmy strolled back out of the camp. Waspdawn glanced at Oilstripe and Downstar. The former whispered in the latter's ear, relaying everything Waspdawn had told her. Downstar's mouth drooped open, ears twitching in tiny movements as she absorbed the truth of it all. Waspdawn left them to their revelation and followed Lemmy to the log outside of camp.
The Resting Place was covered in snow, but imprints of lounging cats marked its surface. Lemmy sat with her tail dangling off the log, waiting for her fellow codekeeper. Waspdawn jumped up and sat beside her. He grit his teeth when his tail rested against the decaying wood.
"Should you be out here with your tail?" Lemmy asked.
"Like you said, this will be quick," Waspdawn said, swallowing the pain. He settled his gaze on the dark sea. "We learned that Achilles is dead today. I don't think you've had a chance to hear." Lemmy flicked an ear.
"It's better for all of us that he's gone," Lemmy said. "I knew him well. You would never have convinced him you weren't a threat to the Other Side. He could have attacked us at any time."
"I won't deny that," Waspdawn said. "Do you want to know how he died, Lemmy?" Lemmy flicked an ear again. She matched Waspdawn's cold stare into the freezing ocean beyond. "A witness told us Potterypool killed him. Not alone, though. We didn't get to hear much else, but do you want to hear my theory?" Lemmy stayed still this time. Waspdawn shifted his gaze to the tortoiseshell killer. "I think Potterypool did kill Achilles. She killed him because you asked for her help. And then you killed her."
Lemmy said nothing. Her tail dusted snow off the Resting Place. A boreal owl hooted somewhere in the forest. The wind echoed in Waspdawn's ears. His tail was no longer his biggest source of pain.
"Here's what I think happened," Waspdawn said. "You were out of camp at the same time as Potterypool. You met along the river, likely by coincidence. At that time, you saw either Nimble or Achilles. If Venturedapple knew who Nimble was, I assume you'd know her from stories at least. Nimble built her kitting nest not far from the river, and she was close to her mate. It would make sense for both of them to make camp and hunt along the river. Regardless of which cat you saw, you decided it wasn't safe for the Clan to have Achilles at our border. Potterypool agreed. So you both crossed the river and hunted Achilles down.
"Potterypool took the brunt of Achilles' attacks, as her wounds tell us. Eventually, though, you both killed him. But Nimble was watching. I think Potterypool realized Nimble was pregnant and regretted taking a father from his kits. She was going to confess your shared murder, but you disagreed. You argued, and it escalated until Potterypool was dead at your paws." Waspdawn sneered as he talked. "You buried her in hopes no one would find out, and you cleaned yourself off before you returned to camp, as though nothing happened.
"But you still weren't safe. Lightningrunner was out of camp too. I think she saw something, likely the burial. She didn't realize what she saw until later, she may not have fully understood, even then. That's because I believe she spoke to you about it in private, and you knew you had to silence her. So you tracked her to Battle Beach and ambushed her when she was alone! Tell me I'm wrong, Lemmy!"
Lemmy didn't respond for a while. Waspdawn's claws poked through the snow.
"You're wrong," Lemmy said. Waspdawn held his breath. "I didn't kill Lightningrunner. I had no part in that. But Potterypool…" Lemmy sunk off the Resting Place. She sighed deeply. "I couldn't let Achilles hurt anyone else in RippleClan. He nearly killed your brother. His death was justified, but Potterypool didn't understand. It all went too far. I'm… sorry, Waspdawn."
"If you're sorry," Waspdawn growled, voice struggling not to spike, "then you'll come with me and face trial for both of their murders. You don't get to deny Lightningrunner's death. You can't hide your ruthlessness."
"You're an intelligent cat, Waspdawn," Lemmy huffed. "You figured out nearly everything that unfolded with Potterypool. But Lightningrunner? Your story is just that. A story. You have no proof she and I ever interacted."
"She had a conversation with Mosspounce, it stuck with her," Waspdawn snapped. "She realized what she saw."
"You're searching for an easy way out," Lemmy snapped back. "If I killed Lightningrunner, where was my scent? I was hunting that day. Do you think I found the time to catch a fish and kill Lightningrunner, all the while escaping her patrol?"
"If you're sorry for Potterypool's death," Waspdawn hissed, jumping off the Resting Place, "then why aren't you sorry for killing my sister?"
"Take me prisoner," Lemmy growled, sitting with her tail over her unseathed claws. "You found me out, and I won't run from it. I'll tell the truth. I'll take my punishment. I know what I did was wrong. I'll tell it all at my trial, whether you like what I have to say or not."
The moments after that blurred in Waspdawn's memory. Escorting Lemmy to the quarantine den, gathering her family, informing the codekeepers… it all happened in a flicker of light, the flap of a wing. Had Waspdawn done it? Had be outed the Clanmate who had his sister's blood on her paws?
Or was Lemmy, for the first time in a moon, telling the entire truth?
(Waspdawn: 56, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)
(Puddlewhisper: 56, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)
(Downstar: 149, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)
(Lemmy: 66, female, codekeeper, cold, deep StarClan bond, good mediator)
Honeybuzz and Estherfern ask Lemmy for a favor.
[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Estherfern approach Lemmy.]
---
Lemmy asked for no visitors. One of the few things she dared to ask of RippleClan now. What could she say to her mate, to her daughters and her friends? She would say it all at her trial and face her execution with dignity.
It had been a few days since the truth came out, at least what Waspdawn declared to be the truth. She had been caught, that was true, but Lightningrunner's blood did not stain her fangs. That murderer was still out there. She owed it to RippleClan to make them see that. For now, though, in the late night before her grand trial, she stayed under guard in the quarantine den, eyes closed, yet not asleep. Simply waiting.
Soft voices outside the den stirred her from her few thoughts. She opened one eye. Honeybuzz and Estherfern stood outside, speaking with Rapidleaf and Brightreed. Lemmy couldn't hear their words. She turned with her back to the newcomers, tucking her face into the worn moss of her prisoner's nest.
"How is this den so cold?" Honeybuzz asked, shivering as he and Estherfern entered the den. "We keep patients here! We can't let it get this chilly!"
"Focus," Estherfern huffed. Their pawsteps grew closer. Lemmy could feel their breath on her back.
"Is this some sort of death rite?" Lemmy sighed, giving into their presence. She sat up, her collar twisting against her neck. To her surprise, she could no longer see Rapidleaf and Brightreed's vague forms outside.
"You're not going to be executed," Honeybuzz insisted, sitting beside the damned molly's nest. "Downstar just brought it up because—"
"Because I won't admit to a murder I didn't commit," Lemmy huffed, lips curling. "My story will be the same at the trial. I am not Lightningrunner's killer."
"We're trying to help you, you stupid kit," Estherfern suddenly spat, matching Lemmy's expression.
"Do you care about justice or a simple solution?" Lemmy snapped. Her whiskers nearly touched Estherfern's as the two mollies growled at each other.
"You're not the only cat we're trying to help, Lemmy," Honeybuzz hissed, forcing himself between her and Estherfern. Estherfern huffed and sat in the remnants of an old nest. Honeybuzz's cicada wing necklace bounced against his chest as he settled back down. "Now, can you please listen to us? The rest of the Clan thinks we're here to help you clear your conscience. We know you didn't kill Lightningrunner, but we need you to admit to it anyway." Lemmy stared unblinking at Honeybuzz. Honeybuzz met her intensity and raised it, desperation mixed into his natural confidence.
"The Clan is in danger so long as her true killer is out there," Lemmy growled. "Lightningrunner was killed from behind, without mercy. Why would I protect them?"
"You don't know the full story," Estherfern muttered.
"The Clan thinks you're guilty now," Honeybuzz explained before Lemmy could probe Estherfern's ominous statement, "but if you insist on your innocence with Lightningrunner's death, eventually cats will start asking questions again. For the good of the Clan, we can't have them ask questions. It would shatter families. I don't want anyone else to go through what my family is feeling." While it was far from the first time guilt gripped her guts, a new regret itched inside of Lemmy. She stole Honeybuzz's sister from him, yet Honeybuzz didn't call for Lemmy's blood to stain the forest floor like Vervaincough and Halibutdusk had upon the reveal.
"Who killed her, then?" Lemmy asked softly. Honeybuzz glanced at Estherfern. The old brown cleric nodded. Then Honeybuzz said a name, the last name Lemmy could ever imagine tearing into the back of Lightningrunner's neck.
"Whitepaw."
(Lemmy: 66, female, codekeeper, cold, deep StarClan bond, good mediator)
(Honeybuzz: 38, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)
(Estherfern: 124, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)
Estherfern drips an infection-fighting concoction into Mosspounce’s eyes, not paying attention to his protests. She needs to stop the infection before it gets any worse.
[Image ID: Estherfern and Honeybuzz stand around Mosspounce, treating him while Washington watches in the back. Under Mosspounce, it says + INFECTION. Under Honeybuzz, it says - CONDITION: GRIEVING.]
"Shouldn't you be doing some sort of ritual?" Mosspounce groaned as Estherfern shoved his chin up. His bloody eyes stared at nothing, yellow pus pooling around his torn eyelids. Pale white light drifted inside the medicine den, bouncing off the paw-deep snow covering camp.
"Like what, contact StarClan for medical advice?" Estherfern muttered, removing the leather lid from an empty bottle. "Apparently StarClan only has the energy for one proper channeling a year, and we spent that on Currentsmoke's jaw. We're doing everything we know we can, Mosspounce." Estherfern grabbed the bottle in her jaws and lowered it into the warm pot beside her. A freshly brewed concoction sat within the pot, packed full of infection-killing herbs. Estherfern dipped the bottle into the concoction, accidentally getting some on her lips. She tilted her head to the side to keep the botte face-up. Then she slowly brought it over Mosspounce's face and poured a splash of the concoction onto his eyes.
Mosspounce hissed, flinching back, but Honeybuzz was there to help. He stood behind Mosspounce and gently shoved the injured caretaker back into place, allowing Estherfern to set the bottle down and massage the concoction in. Mosspounce's claws poked his nest.
"Your body is killing itself in an effort to kill this infection," Estherfern huffed. "This will give your body an ally in that fight. So stay still!" Estherfern removed her paws from Mosspounce's eyes and rubbed them clean on the medicine den's leather floor. Mosspounce groaned as Honeybuzz grabbed fresh bandages and wrapped them around Mosspounce's face.
"Will he be alright?" Estherfern hid her surprise well as she faced the cat resting a few tail-lengths away, a splint and bandages wrapped around his back leg. Estherfern had truthfully forgotten Washington was there. The old tom (and she truly meant old, she had never met a cat who claimed to live over two hundred moons before) watched Mosspounce carefully, gaze sharp and twitching as though he were the one with a concoction burning into his eyes.
Washington had not said much in the quarter moon since his arrival to RippleClan, clearly mourning those he lost in the shipwreck offshore. Remnants of that ship now reinforced part of the medicine den's walls. There had been so much wood, in fact, that the caretakers were able to take apart a decaying portion of the medicine den's back wall and build it into the hollows of the main shipwreck, allowing more room for herbal preparation, rituals, and sleeping patients. Washington now slept in the remains of his former home, silently watching his new home swirl about.
"We're doing what we can," Honeybuzz promised, releasing Mosspounce. "Do you need something, Washington?"
"No, no, I'm comfortable," Washington muttered.
"I'm not," Mosspounce groaned, curling into a ball. "Can I have something for my pain?" His whiskers twitched as his face squirmed, biting back a mrow of frustration.
"Can you fight through for a bit longer?" Honeybuzz asked. "Troutpool and Weevilsight should be back with more willow bark soon."
"You know what would shut him up and keep him warm?" Estherfern muttered, rubbing her paws clean on the snow outside. "A smoke-den."
"You know we don't do that, Estherfern," Honeybuzz sighed. Estherfern could feel his disapproving stare against the back of her head.
"Forgive the interupption," Washington croaked in the back, "but if a smoke-den, as you called it, could help this kit with his pain, why not try it?"
"Kit?" Mosspounce groaned. "I'm a father!"
"Smoke-dens are a tradition in SlugClan, one of the other Clans," Honeybuzz explained, joining Washington's side. "They burn herbs like catmint and valerian to enter an overly relaxed, trance-like state. Downstar always saw it as a waste of herbs, so we don't use smoke-dens in RippleClan."
"You might not understand it," Washington sighed, "but back on my ship, my humans would sit around with sticks in their mouths, blowing smoke at one another. They were at their calmest when they did that. Not a pleasant smell, no, but it's a wonderful feeling to be sitting on a human's lap as they relax, listening to their purr." Honeybuzz squirmed at Washington's description, yet somewhere in Estherfern's memories, she could remember a human's paw stroking her back, soothing her into quiet dreams.
"What is it like to be on a ship?" Mosspounce asked, slightly lifting his head from his ball of shame. "What are they like when they're floating?"
"Well, not everyone likes the way the ground shifts under your paws," Washington mused, "but I'm a ship-cat, through and through. I love it."
"Tell me more," Mosspounce begged. He shifted toward Washington's scent.
"Estherfern." Outside the den, Puddlewhisper and Waspdawn stood in the snow, pelts dull in the shiny light. The weight of Waspdawn's infection was evident in the way his footing seemed unsteady on flat ground, yet he matched his sister's blank, focused expression.
"Are you going to rest now, Waspdawn?" Estherfern muttered. Behind her, Honeybuzz helped Mosspounce over to Washington's nest. It could have been the snow-light's reflection, but Estherfern swore Washington had a sparkle in his eyes as he dove into stories of massive ships coursing across the sea.
"Do you have the fur samples we collected from Potterypool?" Puddlewhisper asked.
"Troutpool's kept them safe," Estherfern promised. She crossed over to Troutpool's nest, covered in plush leather expertly tanned by Rattlepelt. Estherfern shuffled through the thick layers of the nest until she found a small vial. She grabbed a scrap of leather the clerics used to wipe medicine from their paws and lips. She placed the scrap in front of Puddlewhisper and Waspdawn, opened the vial, and carefully poured out the contents. Strands of dark fur fluttered out.
Puddlewhisper and Waspdawn nodded to each other in some secret littermate language. Puddlewhisper jogged off to the bonfire in the center of camp, which projected warmth into all the dens. She grabbed a dry stick beside the fire. She carefully tilted the stick into the flames. The fire licked the tip of the stick and climbed on. Puddlewhisper hurried back to the medicine den, head tilted hard to the right to keep the tip of the torch aloft. She plunged the torch into the snow and sand a safe distance from the wooden shipwreck. Waspdawn tugged the leather scrap closer to the light. Honeybuzz stood beside Estherfern, focused more on the dangerously close torch than the codekeepers' work.
Puddlewhisper carefully pawed at a few strands of fur. With the firelight, even Estherfern could better make out each strand's details. The fur at Puddlewhisper's paw was black, perhaps dark gray, and fairly short. Yet there were other strands beside Waspdawn that were long and the color of dark leather. They all looked the same without such clear light illuminating through every hair.
"You were right, Puddlewhisper," Waspdawn muttered. "These samples don't come from the same cat." Estherfern's shoulders tensed.
"What does that mean?" Honeybuzz asked softly. Puddlewhisper pulled the torch out of the ground and submerged it into the snow, quickly dousing the flame. Smoke drifted from the suddenly melted slush.
"It's not wise to make assumptions," Puddlewhisper sighed, "but we pulled these samples from Potterypool's claws and wounds. We can't determine the context, but we can say that Potterypool fought with more than one cat the day she died. We may be looking for two killers."
(Estherfern: 124, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)
(Honeybuzz: 38, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)
(Washington: 218, male, elder, nervous, good mediator)
(Puddlewhisper: 56, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)
(Waspdawn: 56, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)
Gingerpaw asks to be apprenticed to Estherfern, while Frostpaw becomes Rabbitjoy’s newest artisan apprentice. Honeybuzz gives Gingerpaw a maple seed necklace.
[Image ID: Gingerpaw and Frostpaw are now both apprentices, though Gingerpaw has a maple seed tucked by his ear. Under Gingerpaw, it reads LEVEL UP! GINGERKIT → GINGERPAW, CHARMING → CHILDISH, + NEW SKILL: MOSS-BALL HUNTER, + ACCESSORY: MAPLE SEED. Under Frostpaw, it says LEVEL UP! FROSTKIT → FROSTPAW, QUIET → STRICT.]
(Frostpaw: 6, female, artisan apprentice, strict, lover of stories)
Puddlewhisper is determined to solve her little sister’s murder.
[Image ID: Puddlewhisper, Vervaincough, and Venturedapple watch a brown rosette molly with blue eyes run off with a brown speckled kit. Puddlewhisper yowls "Hold on!" Under the kit, it says NEW PLAYER: QUICK, 0, FEMALE, KNOW-IT-ALL. Under the brown molly, it says NEW PLAYER: NIMBLE, 45, FEMALE, RIGHTEOUS, GOOD SWIMMER.]
---
Everything was bitter. The last three days had been so bitterly cold that even Scaleripple and Venturedapple, with two of the thickest pelts in the Clan, couldn't stay out of camp for long. The mice and squirrels had been eating something, something that made Puddlewhisper's mouth curl no matter how well the caretakers cooked the meat. And that was without mentioning the way Puddlewhisper's teeth ached to dig into guilty flesh. The bitterness had reached her heart, pushing her into the snow.
Another look around. Another try. For Lightningrunner.
Puddlewhisper stalked through the snow. She placed her paws in the prints left by previous patrols, reducing the sound of crunching snow to a mutter. Her ears turned with every creaking branch or scuttering leaf. Her tail waved back and forth, a reflection of her rising frustration. She kept at a slow pace, though, sniffing at the base of a fir.
She could see Battle Beach through the trees, although the sand had been consumed by snow, blurring the border between the forest and the shoreline. The fur on the back of Puddlewhisper's neck itched. Phantom fangs pierced her spine. It was so bad that she had to stop and scratch her neck, sending a few tufts of winter fluff floating into the snow.
"We've been here half the morning, Puddlewhisper," a voice groaned from the trees. "I don't think anyone's going to show up." Two pairs of gray eyes peered at Puddlewhisper from the snow-heavy needles of a black spruce. Vervaincough and Venturedapple leaped out of the tree and landed gracefully beside Puddlewhisper.
"Stars damn it," Puddlewhisper hissed, settling her itchy body. "I was certain someone would stop me from 'confirming my theory'. I suppose it wasn't likely to succeed."
"Because they know you're smarter than to talk about 'almost solving the murders' in the middle of camp," Venturedapple muttered.
"It was worth a try, Venturedapple," Vervaincough snapped, her tail smacking against Venturedapple's half-furred tail. Venturedapple dipped his head to the mourning molly.
"You can go back to camp if you want, Venturedapple," Puddlewhisper sighed. "I'm going to look around more. Maybe I can figure out how Lightningrunner's killer managed to get away from the rest of the patrol so easily…" Puddlewhisper studied the layout of the trees, looking for an easy hiding spot.
"I'm staying too, then," Vervaincough huffed, standing next to Puddlewhisper. "There has to be something I can tell my family when I get back."
"It wouldn't be right to leave you two alone," Venturedapple sighed, shaking his head. "We're too close to the river."
"Do you and Lemmy still think a Witch Hunter killed them?" Puddlewhisper asked. "There's no way a Witch Hunter could have killed Lightningrunner and returned to the human settlement without leaving some type of trail."
"Actually, no," Venturedapple said simply, sitting at the base of the spruce. "The cats who follow Pearl wouldn't have a reason to do this. However, there were some cats who were loyal to Achilles when he and Pearl fought for the title of Witch Hunter General. Perhaps the killer is one of the minority who still view the Clans as witches to be exterminated."
"I can see why you left them," Vervaincough huffed, fluffing her pelt against a bitter breeze whistling through the trees. "I wouldn't want to live in RippleClan if a power struggle like that happened."
"I won't reject the possibility that an outsider killed Potterypool," Puddlewhisper admitted, "but Lightningrunner? No, I'm sorry. It had to be a RippleClan cat. There's no other way they could have escaped." Somewhere behind Puddlewhisper, a heavy weight crunched into the snow. A pawstep. Puddlewhisper's ears swiveled. There it was again. This time Vervaincough and Venturedapple heard it. They both stood tall, ears turned the same way as Puddlewhisper.
Puddlewhisper put her tail to her mouth, silencing the patrol. Crunch. Another pawstep. The three codekeepers dropped. Puddlewhisper in the lead, they followed the sound further into the trees. Crunch.
There! A figure to match the sound. For a moment, Puddlewhisper thought it was Rapidleaf, what with the dark brown fur and blue eyes. But no, this was not Rapidleaf; this molly was younger, nimbler, with rosettes sprinkling her pelt. The stranger reeked of milk and afterbirth; a queen? A recently kitted queen, as well. Despite her thin body, her belly swelled with milk and had yet to fully shrink from pregnancy. She stalked a squirrel digging at the snow, searching for its autumn nuts.
"Halt!" Puddlewhisper called, standing up. The queen jumped, back arching violently. She hissed, showing off her yellow teeth. The squirrel scrambled up a spruce. The queen darted past her lost catch, slamming into the snow with each frantic step.
"Stop!" Vervaincough yowled. She tumbled past a dead bush and sprinted after the queen.
"Vervaincough, pull back!" Puddlewhisper ordered.
"She's getting away!" Vervaincough snapped, skitting through the snow. Her wild gaze bounced between Puddlewhisper and the disappearing queen.
"She's got the strongest scent trail I've ever smelled," Puddlewhisper huffed, nose curling at the intensity of it. "Don't waste your energy running. With her scent and her pawprints, we won't lose her." Puddlewhisper once again led Vervaincough and Venturedapple on, but this time she kept at a light jog, letting her nose do the work. Venturedapple, obediant as ever, walked alongside the gray molly.
"What are you thinking?" Venturedapple asked, trying to look through Puddlewhisper's eyes.
"I think if she's as new a queen as she smells," Puddlewhisper explained, "she's made her nest not far from here. If that's the case, she might have seen something that could help us." Were it better days, Puddlewhisper would have suggested inviting the stranger to RippleClan, provide her a safe place to nurse her kits. But the thought lingered only for a moment before memories of dead, red fur replaced it and Puddlewhisper's heart hardened.
The queen's panicked trail headed towards the Great Northern River, as Puddlewhisper suspected. The stranger's pawprints reappeared on the other side of the stepping stones. Ice glistened across the surface of the stones where they peeked above the freezing current. Puddlewhisper stopped and licked warmth into her paws. Vervaincough pushed ahead, hopping onto the first slippery stone. She jumped from stone to stone, allowing the momentum of her landing to propel her to the next. She landed on the opposite bank with nary a stumble.
Puddlewhisper crossed next. She took her time in her crossing, merely stepping from stone to stone. Her claws poked at the ice. Even though she warmed her paws, it was hard to feel the pads when chilling mist sprayed up from below.
Her back paw slipped at the edge of a stone. Her hind legs fell into the river. The water was shallow and couldn't pull her away, but a paralyzing cold whipped up her spine. Puddlewhisper's legs shook as she tried to stand.
Suddenly, gentle fangs grabbed Puddlewhisper's scruff. Venturedapple stood behind her, his long fur dragging in the current. He shoved Puddlewhisper onto the stepping stone and nudged her back to her paws. Puddlewhisper shivered violently, but nodded deeply. Venturedapple merely dipped his head and crossed past Puddlewhisper, unphased by the cold water and ignoring the stepping stones.
Snow stuck to Puddlewhisper's wet flank when she and Venturedapple made it over to Vervaincough. Puddlewhisper shook out her pelt, spraying Vervaincough. Luckily the queen's trail was still clear and stinking. Puddlewhisper and Vervaincough hurried alongside the queen's pawprints, too focused on their mission to worry about Puddlewhisper's health.
They slowed and crouched as the queen and her nest came into view. Dead grass and orange needles curled around the queen and her three newborn kits. The queen gently groomed a brown kit whose pelt made it clear they would look just like their mother in time. Two other kits mewed and whined for milk; a silver spotted kit and a pale ginger kitten with a nose so pink and pale that it blended into the rest of their fur. They looked healthy from what Puddlewhisper could tell. She, Vervaincough, and Venturedapple lurked under the low-hanging branches of yet another black spruce. The queen purred and panted, glancing behind her.
"Let's try not to scare her again," Puddlewhisper advised her companions. "We can't chase her all day."
"I recognize her," Venturedapple whispered. "Her name is Nimble. She used to live in the human settlement. She left with Achilles. He was her mate." Achilles… he had long brown fur. Could he be the cat Potterypool encountered in the moments before her death?
"Isn't Achilles really old for her?" Vervaincough groaned, sneering at the thought.
"Not every cat has the same concern about age as the Clans seem to," Venturedapple muttered, shaking his head. Yet as he did so, he knocked into a snow-burdened branch. A clump of snow fell from the tree with a loud thud.
The queen, Nimble, ripped herself from her litter's affections. She stood between her kits and the codekeepers like a crumbling wall, unable to stop shaking. Despite the light bouncing off the snow, Nimble's pupils were wide, utterly terrified. Puddlewhisper groaned in her mind.
"We aren't here to hurt you," Puddlewhisper promised, crawling out from under the tree. "We just want to ask you some questions."
"No," Nimble hissed. "No, you're lying. You're here to kill me."
"We don't want that," Vervaincough said as she and Venturedapple joined Puddlewhisper. "Did you see a red molly out here last moon?" That was the wrong thing to say, as Nimble unseathed her claws.
"She did it!" Nimble yowled. "I saw the two of them. They killed my mate, they didn't care! They sent you here to silence me!" Nimble's fear scent overwhelmed her milk-scent. Her kits whined, unfamiliar with the nose-curling stench.
"Tell us what happened," Venturedapple snapped, the tip of his fangs peeking out into the harsh light. Nimble spun and shoved her face into the nest. She emerged with her brown and silver kits dangling in her mouth. The pale ginger kit cried, tiny paws flailing for their missing littermates. Yet Nimble, ears low and tail tucked, simply ran. She stumbled over an exposed root, the exhaustion of kitting slowing her down. As she dove over the root, the silver kit slipped from her jaws. The kitten's tiny head smacked into the buldging root. They landed in the crunchy snow and wailed louder than Puddlewhisper thought a newborn ever could.
"Hold on!" Puddlewhisper cried, but Nimble wouldn't stop. She weaved through the trees, whimpering until her abandoned kit's screams drowned her out. Puddlewhisper's memories flung her back, back to that night when she woke up to screeching and screaming echoing from the nursery, unsure if her nieces, her nephews, her sisters and mother, if any of them were alright. That night, even as Downstar explained the horrors of the Dark Forest that caused such a disaster, all Puddlewhisper could think was, I'll never let a kit scream like that, ever again. They'll never hurt like that as long as I draw breath.
Puddlewhisper flew over the exposed root and cradled her paws around the silver newborn. There was no blood, thank StarClan, but the kit, a tom, still wailed and screamed, his nose-sized paws digging at the sky. Puddlewhisper pulled the kitten close to her chest, forcing herself to purr. She groomed the tom's tiny head. The tom began to soothe himself, rooting into Puddlewhisper's fur with painful whimpers. As he quieted, the pitiful mews of his other abandoned sibling became the loudest thing in the forest.
"One of you check on that kit already!" Puddlewhisper snapped at Vervaincough and Venturedapple, who stared dumbfounded at the silver kitten. Venturedapple, at least, pulled himself out of the stupor and obeyed Puddlewhisper's order. He crawled into the nest and nosed the pale ginger kit.
"It's a molly," Venturedapple explained. "She seems healthy. Just upset."
"She left them," Vervaincough muttered, staring at Nimble's trail. "She left her kits behind. They, they could die without her!"
"That's why we're taking them back to camp, right now," Puddlewhisper hissed, lifting the silver kit back over the exposed root.
"What about Nimble?" Venturedapple asked.
"She'll never tell us what we need to know if she thinks we're out to kill her," Puddlewhisper growled. "We'll find her eventually. The clerics need to see this kit. We're going home, right now. Grab his sister and follow me."
For the first time in an entire moon, Puddlewhisper didn't think about her sister's murder. She could only think of the two newborns beside her, whining for their mother.
[Image ID: Puddlewhisper stands with a silver speckled kit and a pale ginger tabby kit. Puddlewhisper says "What kind of mother is she if she only saved one kit? Someone should put these two first." Under the silver kit, it says NEW PLAYER: ICEKIT, 0, MALE, UNRULY. Under the pale ginger kit, it says NEW PLAYER: PEARKIT, 0, FEMALE, QUIET.]
With no nursing queens to feed the two newcomers, Carnationspeckle quickly set to work brewing kitten soup while Currentsmoke built a nest in the nursery. Vervaincough and Venturedapple met with Waspdawn, Oilstripe, and Downstar in the leader's den while Puddlewhisper stayed with the silver and pale ginger kits, warming them by the bonfire. Troutpool carefully examined the silver tom's head while Puddlewhisper made sure his sister didn't crawl into the fire.
"I don't see any signs of injury," Troutpool muttered, "and he seems to be doing well. I can monitor him, but I don't think he's hurt. Just a little knock on the head, I believe." Troutpool licked the tom's head, chuckling. Shrewflame and Whitepaw hovered over Puddlewhisper, trying to get a good view of the newborns.
"They're adorable," Whitepaw gasped, eyes sparkling. "Do they need anything?"
"Some space," Puddlewhisper huffed, batting at the two brothers. "Don't you have chores to attend to?"
"Well forgive our curiosity," Shrewflame grumbled, guiding Whitepaw back. The rest of the Clan were able to contain themselves and give Puddlewhisper room to breathe. If they weren't discussing the day's events, they were trying to listen to Downstar's meeting (only for Cobaltchaser, guarding the den, to remind them it was private).
"Once Currentsmoke's done in the nursery, we can move them in," Troutpool sighed. She sat beside Puddlewhisper and warmed her whiskers. Puddlewhisper pulled the kits close to her. They sensed her warmth and turned their noses into her pelt.
"You seem like a natural," Troutpool hummed. Puddlewhisper's ears dipped. She stared at the fire, forcing her pelt to stay smooth. Troutpool tucked in her tail and quickly added, "I'm sorry, I didn't think that through. They just seem to like you, that's what I mean." Puddlewhisper stared at the kits. The silver tom looked like he could be Puddlewhisper's son. The molly looked more like Waspdawn's kit, a thought that brought out a purr. It did seem natural, didn't it? But Puddlewhisper's tail flicked against the ground, a clear sign of her thoughts.
"Can I admit something to you?" Puddlewhisper asked softly.
"A cleric never reveals what her Clanmate says in confidence," Troutpool promised, sitting taller. Puddlewhisper curled her tail over the kits.
"I hated Elmsprout for having kits," Puddlewhisper muttered. She waited for backlash, for a horrified gasp, but Troutpool stayed quiet. "Gingerpaw and Frostpaw are going to be wonderful cats, and Lavendertwist adores being a father. But when I saw Elmsprout nursing her litter, I hated her for it. I wanted to be nursing kits in the nursery. All the mothers in this Clan seem so happy to be in the nursery, and I would give up anything to be one of them. But if I had children by blood, I could only stand to the side while another molly gave birth to them. I wouldn't really be their mother."
"Yes you would," Troutpool insisted, putting her tail on Puddlewhisper's back. "They would call you their mother."
"Yes," Puddlewhisper groaned, "but didn't Oilstripe feel awkward with you, knowing you and her shared no blood? It's a similar feeling." Troutpool's ears tilted back slightly. "I can't be the mother I want to be."
"I'm sorry I can't change that," Troutpool sighed. "If it helps, though, I think your concern would make you a great mother, in whatever way that happens." Troutpool gently nudged the silver kit, but the newborn was too absorbed in the warmth of Puddlewhisper's belly fur. "Are you going to try Nimble and return her kits?"
"She put her fear over her kits," Puddlewhisper snapped. "She left these two to die. What kind of mother is she if she only saved one kit? Someone should put these two first."
"What if Downstar orders you to give them back?" Troutpool asked softly.
"She won't," Puddlewhisper said. The tension in her voice disturbed the nestled kits. She quickly licked each of their little bodies and settled their hearts.
"Then I can't think of anyone better to raise them," Troutpool purred. "I think StarClan approves. Your… Ripplefern's spirit is watching. She looks happy." Puddlewhisper's pelt tingled. She stared at an empty spot in camp. She saw no ghostly shapes, but some deep instinct told her that her sister was right there, keeping watch, just as Troutpool described.
"We don't know exactly when they were born," Puddlewhisper hummed, studying the kits… her kits. "I don't think it would be wrong to give them names now."
"Can I help?" Troutpool asked, ears perking up.
"You can help with the molly," Puddlewhisper said, "but I have the perfect name for the tom. Icekit." Just like the ice she encountered on her way to meet him.
"Cute!" Troutpool said. "The molly's so round and plump, she deserves a round name. Maybe a fruit, or a seed, maybe even a mushroom! There are a lot that match her color. Hen-of-the-woods, porcini mushrooms, maple flowers, pears, maybe a squash, like the sort WheatClan steals—"
"Wait," Puddlewhisper said, raising her tail for the cleric to pause. "What's a pear?"
"Oh, they grow them in the human settlement!" Troutpool explained. "Lemmy told me about them. They grow on trees and they're shaped like rattles. The humans love to eat them." Hmm, pears…
"I like Pearkit," Puddlewhisper decided. She stuck her face between her son and daughter and nuzzled them both.
Yes. In the midst of chaos, this felt more natural than anything.
(Puddlewhisper: 56, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)
Potterypool went missing for a few days. Her body is eventually found in the territory.
[Image ID: Moontide runs toward something offscreen, with Shrewflame, Thundergale, and Yarrowclaw behind her. Shrewflame yowls, "Moontide, don't touch her!" Under Thundergale it reads LEVEL UP! GOOD HUNTER → GREAT HUNTER. Under Yarrowclaw, it reads LEVEL UP! TALENTED FIRE-STARTER → FIRE MASTER.]
Shrewflame was a sprinter, but when he couldn't smell the ocean, the forest provided him security over the open southern reaches, despite the many obstacles in his way. In some ways, the obstacles were better. They were a challenge, allowing Shrewflame to launch himself from rock to rock, tree to tree, flying through the land with the speed of a peregrine falcon. Limp leaves flew out behind him, spooking the occasional squirrel. Shrewflame laughed as a cold wind stunned his cheeks.
Yarrowclaw, Thundergale, and Moontide sat around a particularly scratched-up grouping of pines. The caretakers loved to climb the low-hanging branches, as it was easy to collect bark and wood for the clerics and artisans. It was also a go-to spot to rake your claws down the trunks, leaving permanent gouges in the bark. Thundergale scratched at the tree while Moontide and Yarrowclaw chatted, nested in the fallen needles. Shrewflame burst into the scene, skidding through the leaves with another hearty laugh.
"Sorry if I'm late!" Shrewflame chirped. "I was helping Whitekit settle on training for later this moon. He wants to be a historian."
"Good for him," Thundergale said a bit too loud. Her words were muffled as though talking with her mouth full. Shrewflame bit down the slight disappointment that bubbled with his mentor's words. The spoken word no longer sounded as clear to Thundergale, it seemed. How long would it be until Thundergale could never hear Shrewflame's laugh or the hum of bird song again? She would be alright, she would still be happy, she wouldn't even lose her stride in the growth of her new role (so many cats asked for lessons that Lettucestar asked for one of the teachers to stay in SlugClan for a time and share their new ways). Still, a loss like that could still be mourned. Shrewflame stopped himself from making a mouse-brained comment about Thundergale's voice and instead settled beside Moontide.
"We were just chatting with Yarrowclaw," Moontide explained. Shrewflame's enthusiasm sombered even more with Moontide's monotone. It was clear what was on her mind. Potterypool had left camp a couple days prior, but had not returned that night. Should Shrewflame comfort Moontide? Despite her switch to the teacher position, Shrewflame didn't know her well. He may have learned the basics of mediation from Spikecrash and Paleseed, but he was far from sweet-tongued.
"I'll tell you what I told these two," Yarrowclaw sighed, flicking her ears at the mollies. Shrewflame quickly took up translating for Thundergale on instinct. "If all we talk about is day-night cycling, I'm going back to camp."
"That's only part of what we could learn from you," Thundergale signed, with Shrewflame translating back for Yarrowclaw. Thundergale hopped away from the tree and stood beside Moontide. "Yes, as one of the few cats in recent Clan history with this condition, we want to learn about it so if others have questions, they don't have to interrogate you. But you're a great fighter, and I've never seen anyone sneak up on you. Every member of the Clan has a lot they can teach future generations. If we're going to learn from any of our Clanmates first, you're the one I want to hear from."
"So you want me to talk about myself?" Yarrowclaw asked. Thundergale nodded eagerly. Yarrowclaw sighed and sat up, stretching her flank high. "If that's how I'm spending my afternoon, we aren't going to just sit here. I want to check on the river near the SlugClan border. Come with me and I'll answer your questions."
"But—" Shrewflame huffed, not able to finish translating Yarrowclaw's answer. Yet Thundergale put her tail on Shrewflame's shoulder.
"You can tell me what I miss later," Thundergale said, shaking her head. Shrewflame tensed, but he nodded anyway. Yarrowclaw led the three teachers north, one ear turned back to them.
The sun shone behind a thick layer of light gray clouds, a reflection of Shrewflame's suddenly smothered mood. He pretended otherwise, however, constantly running ahead of Yarrowclaw before "remembering" what he was supposed to do and jogging back. Even the mice seemed to force their mood, skittering in the distant leaves rather than hide from the four fierce hunters. With Thundergale unable to keep up with the conversation and Moontide as quiet as the moon itself, it felt like Shrewflame was talking to himself. He bounced against Thundergale's initial interests and groomed his questions toward Yarrowclaw's supposed specialities.
Usually, Shrewflame would love to hear how Yarrowclaw learned to hunt without a sense of depth, how she honed her senses, how the mediators taught her to harness her day cycles in a healthy way. Yet it didn't feel right. Thundergale couldn't participate, Moontide wasn't engaged, and Shrewflame found himself missing his little brother. Whitekit was hilarious! It helped that he looked at Shrewflame like the sun, but maybe Whitekit could have made Yarrowclaw laugh or loosened her mouth with his unique, cautious charm. At this point, Shrewflame should have just joined a border patrol.
"I'll tell you what I told Wolverineheart as a kit," Yarrowclaw sighed as the Great Northern River came into view. "I have my nose. I have my ears. I can feel the wind on my whiskers and pawsteps through the ground. I can get by with one bad eye."
"Good to know," Shrewflame said, glancing between Moontide and Thundergale. "Well, um, we're at the river! Do we want to rest by the water for a bit?"
"Dog," Thundergale suddenly gulped, gaze locked on the other side of the river. Moontide, Yarrowclaw, and Shrewflame stiffened. They gazed over the gray river, whose white foam caught what light leaked through the clouds. The tanning grass rippled in the wind, which carried the dangerous scent to the patrol. Heavy paws scrambled through the fading undergrowth. The dog's golden brown pelt melted against the dying leaves as it burst into view. One of its floppy ears was stuck inside-out and its tongue dangled out of its loose lips. The brown-eyed beast turned back toward the trees, wagging its tail wildly. Shrewflame couldn't see its human yet, but he heard them cracking leaves underfoot.
Shrewflame had never seen a dog so close before, but the sight still made his back arch. He grew up with his mothers' stories; Wildclaw and her various confrontations with overeager pups, Rattlepelt and her near-death experience with the darkhound that took Mousesong, the aunt Shrewflame never knew. All of Shrewflame's lessons and the scars sported by his Clanmates taught him never to underestimate a dog, especially one that hunted alongside a human.
"The dog seems well-taught," Moontide noted softly, signing quickly. "I don't think it will cross the river unless its human does, and Venturedapple says humans hate wading through water."
"I'll keep my eye on it," Yarrowclaw promised, dead eye facing the three teachers as Yarrowclaw glared across the border.
The dog sniffed at the grass lining the river, uninterested in the cats beyond. Its nose led it between a pine and a fir, where recently disturbed dirt protruded in a mound. The dog lunged at the mound like a kit pouncing on a leaf. Its thick paws dug rapidly. Dirt flew into the river and floated toward the sea. The smell of decay brushed Shrewflame's nose. The human emerged from the trees with a swift bark. The dog bounced back, thoughtless eyes gazing joyfully up at its master. Though the human's misshapen paw rubbed the dog's head, their attention lingered on the mound. Whatever the human saw, Shrewflame couldn't make it out from his position.
"That smell," Moontide gulped, eyes as big as her namesake. Shrewflame didn't know what she meant as the human crouched by the mound. They brushed aside loose dirt and continued some of their dog's work. They purred low, a purr of pain rather than contentment. Their leather-lined paws reached into the mound and slowly lifted up what laid beneath.
A dark red cat laid in the human's grasp. Blank gray eyes stared at RippleClan territory. Blood smeared her marbled pelt.
So that's where Potterypool had gone.
"Drop her!" Moontide suddenly shrieked, charging to the riverbank. "Drop her right now! Don't take her!" The golden dog barked at Moontide's yowls. Even the human turned their head, noticing the Clan cats for the first time. Shrewflame, Yarrowclaw, and Thundergale all stood beside Moontide, the river licking their paws as they hissed at the human. The human glanced down at the body in their grasp, cradled close to their chest. Their attention drifted between Potterypool and the living cats. Their paw absent-mindedly stroked Potterypool's still pelt.
"There are good humans, right?" Shrewflame yowled like there was some chance of the human understanding him. "Maybe you're one of them! Just put her body down! She's our friend!" The human held Potterypool tighter. Their eyes shimmered. The human slowly sat beside the unearthed mound. The dog came close, sniffing Potterypool's body, but the human hissed at it, shielding the dead cat. The human carefully laid Potterypool beside the disturbed earth. They arranged her legs gently underneath her. They made it look as though Potterypool was curled up, deep in a peaceful dream. The human stroked Potterypool's head, whining. Blood covered their paws. They even rested their muzzle against Potterypool's forehead, as though participating in vigil. Could humans truly care about cats so deeply, even cats they never met?
The human stood and made a sharp bird-like song to their dog. The dog walked alongside the human, eyeing Potterypool and the living cats. Yet it stayed tame as the human led it back through the trees. As soon as the pair slipped through the undergrowth, Moontide dove into the river.
"Moontide, don't touch her!" Shrewflame yowled. Moontide swam with the river pushing against her side. She crawled onto the opposite bank as Shrewflame raced for the stepping stones. The cold water numbed his paws. He slipped onto the grass beyond the border. Moontide reached her paw to Potterypool's curled body just as Shrewflame snatched the white molly's scruff and tugged her back.
"Shrewflame, get off of me!" Moontide cried, paws smacking at Shrewflame.
"Look at her, Moontide!" Shrewflame hissed, letting go and shoving the frantic molly back. "She's covered in blood. She was buried beyond the border. A dog or fox wouldn't have done that. Think!" Yarrowclaw and Thundergale joined the pair on their side of the river. "We need codekeepers. That's the right way to do this. They should get a look at her body before anyone else disturbs her."
"She's been here all this time," Moontide whined, shaking. "I patrolled by here yesterday. I didn't see her!"
"Thundergale and I will go back to camp," Yarrowclaw promised. "We'll find some codekeepers." The air hung stiff around them, aching for some sort of comforting phrase before the two mollies left, but Yarrowclaw and Thundergale were silent. They slowly crept away from Potterypool's body and back to the river. Moontide moaned as Yarrowclaw and Thundergale hurried back to RippleClan territory.
Moontide sunk low, one paw stretching out toward her sister. Her instincts fought against her common sense, desperate to touch Potterypool's matted, dirty fur, shake life back into her lungs. But Shrewflame kept a paw on Moontide's leg, refusing to look away from Potterypool's body. When he looked past the slight decay, past the scent of death and dirt and the river's mist, Shrewflame could make out distinct trails of blood staining Potterypool's already dark red fur. Shrewflame didn't need a codekeeper's training to see this was the work of a cat. But who?
(Shrewflame: 13, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)
(Thundergale: 21, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)
(Yarrowclaw: 24, female, warrior, cold, fire master)
(Potterypool: 24, female, caretaker, sneaky, great singer)
Stormjump and Honeybuzz proudly announce their commitment to one another as mates before the Clan. Meanwhile, Waspdawn battles an infection in his tail stump.
[Image ID: Stormjump and Honeybuzz preen together while Cobaltchaser and Lightningrunner sit with Waspdawn in the back. Under Waspdawn, it reads + INFECTION. Under Stormjump, it reads + MATE: HONEYBUZZ. Under Honeybuzz, it reads + MATE: STORMJUMP.]
---
"It was an intentional burial," Waspdawn muttered as Troutpool rubbed an infection-fighting balm into the amputated stump of his half-tail. "Someone didn't want her body to be found. Why?"
"Waspdawn, maybe you should just rest," Cobaltchaser suggested, grooming her older brother's head. "Overthinking this isn't going to help your fever."
"But he's right, Cobaltchaser," Lightningrunner huffed. "This is bad. It's like the story with Scrubmask. This could be another war with the Witch Hunters!"
"Take it from someone who was actually there for Scrubmask's death," Troutpool sighed, finishing the last of Waspdawn's balm. "Whoever left her body there didn't care who found it. Potterypool's situation is different."
The four cats sat together in the medicine den, noses plugged with the smell of infection and herbs. Waspdawn sat with his tail stretched out of his nest. His furless tail-tip blistered red, some unknown infection creeping into the scars of his amputation. Cobaltchaser and Lightningrunner kept him company as sunhigh glared down on the noisy camp clearing. Despite the overwhelming scent of the medicine den, the smell of dried fish still managed to soak through the den walls from the meal outside.
Most of the Clan surrounded Honeybuzz and Stormjump, congratulating the pair on their official declaration of matehood. Waspdawn's daughter beamed under all the attention. Stormjump purred and laughed as cats like Wildclaw and Rabbitjoy offered their advice and jokes. Honeybuzz's brothers shoved against him, laughing at the top of their lungs. Honeybuzz's eyes carried a softness that had been absent in recent days. From the look of the crowd, it would have been hard to believe that one of their own had been found murdered the day before. Yet the signs were there in what was absent; Halibutdusk could not been seen. They were likely hiding out with Downstar in her den. Moontide and Vervaincough were also distant, moving away from the crowd as soon as they congratulated their older brother.
"At least they sound happy out there." From the other side of the medicine den, Mosspounce laid with his legs at awkward angles, shifting constantly. Clean bandages wrapped around his head, smothering any light before it reached his tattered eyes. If the cougar's claws were as vicious as the stories from last moon claimed, it was impressive Mosspounce still had a face to show off.
"If you're lonely, Mosspounce," Troutpool sighed, "I can have someone guide you through camp."
"Lemmy will be back soon," Mosspounce said with a dismissive flick of his ear. "I can congratulate the happy couple later. I want to keep listening to your theories, Waspdawn. Lemmy's been tight-jawed about the investigation."
"She hasn't been involved," Waspdawn muttered. "We're keeping the investigation to myself, Puddlewhisper, and Cobaltchaser here."
"My brother trusts me," Cobaltchaser purred, squirming with prideful satisfaction.
"More like knows you couldn't have done it," Troutpool awkwardly pointed out, cleaning the balm from her paws. "You were stuck in the dirtplace the day Potterypool vanished." Mosspounce snickered as Cobaltchaser stiffened.
"So we're really considering that someone in our Clan killed Potterypool?" Lightningrunner gulped.
"There are other suspects," Waspdawn assured her. Troutpool shuffled through her herbs as Waspdawn explained. "A Witch Hunter could have killed Potterypool and hidden the body to maintain peace between them and us. Puddlewhisper and Paleseed are going to the human settlement tomorrow to interview Pearl."
"Cobaltchaser, can you fetch a clean bowl?" Troutpool sighed, plucking a jar from her stores. "Your brother needs something to drink his red osier decoction from. It should ease his fever." Cobaltchaser quickly jogged out of the den, set on her new mission.
"Can we even punish someone if they aren't in our Clan?" Lightningrunner asked. "Would Downstar go to war over the killer if their Clan or colony didn't give them up?"
"I know I would," Mosspounce huffed. "Take it from someone who had a paw in the Clan's first war with the Witch Hunters. When our cultures are so different, you can't avoid a fight if you hope to change things. They deserved a battle for kidnapping Carnationspeckle. What sort of justice is it when a killer goes free?" Lightningrunner hung on Mosspounce's words. Waspdawn's heart spasmed, an ache traveling through his blood. The dread of murder fueled his fever and forced his head down.
"You're staying in here for a while, Waspdawn," Troutpool sighed, grooming Waspdawn's neck. "No investigations for you."
"Downstar gave me responsibility…" Waspdawn muttered. He sat up, his head swimming.
"You can share that responsibility with Puddlewhisper," Troutpool said. "Please, lay down. You need to rest."
Regardless of what Waspdawn wanted, he didn't have the energy to do anything but tumble into his nest. The hope beaming from the clearing soothed his palpatations. Lightningrunner settled between Waspdawn and Mosspounce, still eager to continue her conversation with the latter. If she wanted time with her older brother, that would have to come later. As Waspdawn let Troutpool's balm do its work, his sleepy thoughts formed images of disturbed soil behind his eyes. Shifting visions of red fur slashed about, acting as a focal point through the fog of fever.
It was Waspdawn's duty to bring the truth to light.
(Waspdawn: 55, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)
(Cobaltchaser: 19, female, codekeeper, righteous, good cook, prey cleaner)
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James wanders out into the territory and is later found dead, a peaceful expression on his face.
[Image ID: Lightningpaw, Scaleripple, Lavendertwist, Cobaltpaw, Paleseed, Puddlewhisper, and Waspdawn sit vigil with their father's ghost in the center.]
(James: 155, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)
(Lightningpaw: 9, female, historian apprentice, insecure, always wandering)
(Puddlewhisper: 45, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, natural intuition, ghost sense)
(Waspdawn: 45, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)
Honeybuzz and Venturedapple get mistaken by SlugClan as intruders. Honeybuzz gets his ear torn, but Venturedapple has a serious claw wound.
[Image ID: Venturedapple and Honeybuzz hurry away from a ginger and white tom and a lilac and gold tortoiseshell. Under Venturedapple, it says + CONDITION: MANGLED TAIL. Under Honeybuzz, it says + CONDITION: TORN EAR.]
---
Honeybuzz didn't know what to think of Venturedapple. Few in the Clan did. He hadn't participated much in Longest Night and mostly kept to himself and Lemmy (who had to vouch for him when Currentsmoke and Yarrowclaw brought him to camp). Why did he want to join RippleClan rather than protect the cats of the human settlement? No one knew. But when the LynxClan cleric, Aspenblotch, asked for a RippleClan cleric's assistance, who volunteered to accompany Honeybuzz? Venturedapple. So what could the pair talk about, as they made their way along the safe corridor from LynxClan to RippleClan?
Venturedapple took the lead. His bulky form left a path for Honeybuzz through the paw-deep snow. He seemed unbothered by the cold that made Honeybuzz want to run back to LynxClan's camp and never leave the fire's warmth. Honeybuzz carried a large leather pouch at his side, leather straps wrapping around his torso (a brilliant invention that came, shockingly, from the southern farm cats who studied their human neighbors and recruited WheatClan artisans, to Rattlepelt's envy). The sun was to their backs, lighting the trail home.
"It must have been easier to go home when you lived with the humans," Honeybuzz eventually said. "I heard they can clear the snow off their trails with giant tools."
"They do," Venturedapple said. StarClan, was his voice deep!
"Did you live in a human den?" Honeybuzz tried asking.
"Once," Venturedapple said. He didn't look back. Honeybuzz sighed softly. He licked his paws warm and studied the beautiful snowy forest around him.
Venturedapple stopped so suddenly that Honeybuzz smacked into his grand, fluffy tail. Honeybuzz collected himself quickly, his side-pouch loosening. Venturedapple stared into SlugClan territory, ears sharp. Honeybuzz followed his gaze. All he saw were snow-dusted trees and old pawprints.
"Back!" Venturedapple yowled, his entire body puffing up violently. Before Honeybuzz could react, two SlugClan warriors appeared out of nowhere. A fuzzy lilac warrior and a ginger and white tom tackled Venturedapple with a battle yowl. Venturedapple spun, claws swinging at his attackers. The lilac warrior dug into Venturedapple's tail. The three were a blur of fur, colors blending into each other. Blood splattered on the snow.
"Get off him!" Honeybuzz yowled. He snatched the ginger and white tom's scruff and pulled him off. The warrior spun at Honeybuzz. His claws caught onto Honeybuzz's ear. The fragile skin tore. Honeybuzz's blood dribbled down his face. He had never seen his own blood before. Something about the salty substance dripping onto the snow made Honeybuzz's stomach climb into his throat.
The SlugClan warrior reared back, ready to strike again. Yet his eyes bounced off the pouch at Honeybuzz's side. The bloodlust in his blue gaze vanished.
"Carvingfur!" he yowled, turning back to the scuffle. "Carvingfur, stop! They're RippleClan!" The lilac warrior, Carvingfur, let go of Venturedapple's leg. Chunks of Venturedapple's long tail fur floated in the breeze and stuck to the snow. His tail oozed red. Venturedapple hissed and kicked Carvingfur away.
"I don't recognize this one," Carvingfur huffed, hackles still rasied.
"Venturedapple recently joined the Clan," Honeybuzz snapped. He hurried to his Clanmate's side, studying the wound. "What are you doing? We were close to the border, we're allowed to travel along it!" Honeybuzz took off his pouch and searched through it. All he had was a tuft of sea moss left over from treating a LynxClan mediator's lack of energy.
"I'm sorry," the ginger tom sighed. "Gorgestar changed our border policy. We're supposed to drive off any intruders."
"We aren't intruders!"Honeybuzz yowled. "I'm a cleric, for StarClan's sake! What's your name?"
"I'm Lighttrail," the ginger tom said, nudging Carvingfur away.
"Well, Lighttrail," Honeybuzz growled, "expect RippleClan to demand medical reimbursement. Can you stand, Venturedapple?"
"Yes," Venturedapple groaned. He hissed as he got to his paws, holding his tail close. Honeybuzz groomed his wounds, but his tongue wouldn't stop the blood flow.
"I'm giving both of your names to Downstar and the codekeepers," Honeybuzz hissed as he helped Venturedapple back along their path. "Attacking a cleric and their escort is unacceptable!" Honeybuzz settled his pouch back onto his side and stormed off, refusing to look back at Lighttrail and Carvingfur.
Venturedapple's tail left a red trail as the pair hurried home. Honeybuzz ran treatment options through his mind. Some of Venturedapple's gashes might need stitches, but the brown and white codekeeper seemed like he could take the pain. Honeybuzz would mix some of his black cherry tea with a dash of SlugClan's honey (how ironic) and skullcap powder, that would reduce the pain and soothe Venturedapple's battle-ready heart. Honeybuzz had a good ointment for winter wounds; balsam fir gum for infection, bluebead lily leaves for fresh wounds, rounded out with red osier bark shavings. He could use some of that ointment for his ear, but most of it would go on Venturedapple's tail before the bandages. His condition wasn't too bad, Honeybuzz could—
"Does your ear hurt?" Venturedapple asked, snapping Honeybuzz back to the present.
"Only a little bit," Honeybuzz promised, licking his paw and pulling it over his bleeding ear. Venturedapple slowed, nodding.
"Thank you for your intervention," he said.
"Thank you!" Honeybuzz stammered. "I didn't see them. I would have been helpless." Venturedapple nodded again. "It seems you'll be spending time in the medicine den with me. Let's make sure to share some meals together."
"That would be nice," Venturedapple purred as the chunks of fur remaining on his tail dripped red.
Maybe Venturedapple wasn't as mysterious as Honeybuzz thought.
(Honeybuzz: 27, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)
[Image ID: Ravenweaver is an adult. Under her, it reads LEVEL UP! RAVENPAW → RAVENWEAVER, PICKY NEST BUILDER → DEN BUILDER, QUICK WITTED → VERY CLEVER.]
(Ravenweaver: 14, female, artisan, den builder, very clever
Brightpaw has to lure away a human and their hunting dog with Trumpetspore and Elmsprout.
[Image ID: Brightpaw follows Trumpetspore and Elmsprout. Under him, it reads + CONDITION: BITE WOUND.]
---
It was the day after Estherfern's trial. Her confession to the Clan following the successful ritual had thrown everyone off balance, to say the least. Yet at the end of it all, Downstar decided that, outside of lost privileges, Foampaw's death was punishment enough. But was it? Brightpaw's mother only started seeing him and his sisters as actual cats after summoning the forces of the Dark Forest to "cure" them. Estherfern loved them all, Brightpaw knew that… but what was he supposed to say?
"You don't need to know what to do," Elmsprout insisted as she and Trumpetspore led Brightpaw on patrol. Snow drifted through the sunhigh haze, because of course Trumpetspore took Brightpaw on a dreaded sunhigh patrol. "The entire Clan is confused right now. Downstar and Oilstripe are busy deciding what to tell the other Clans, both about your mother and about Wolfgaze, Weevilpaw, and Anchovystrike. You're allowed to be just as unsure."
"We should have told the Clans about the three of them when we first found out," Brightpaw huffed. "It's a good defense. They wouldn't want to attack us when they know we can predict their moves and freeze them where they stand."
"It was better for them," Elmsprout sighed. "How would you feel if everyone saw you as some living legend when you were just six moons old? We've given them time to grow up and graduate. Now that the spirits are gone, there's less pressure on them to live up to some mythical ideal."
"I guess that makes sense," Brightpaw sighed. He tried to turn his attention to the patrol, watching for any spirits that could have lingered from the rituals… or something else that came in.
"Even though I would never give up my life here," Elmsprout said, gaze drifting, "I still wish my relationship with my father was better. It's not a perfect comparison, but I think both your mother and my father only ever tried to help us, even if they went about it the wrong way. That doesn't excuse them, but… I think that makes it easier to understand them. And this time, rather than running to join another Clan like I did, you can work through it." She dipped her chin at the end, flaunting her embarrassment the way a lot of adults seemed to when relating to apprentices. Brightpaw had to admit, though; it worked.
"As long as my mom doesn't ask me to 'speak up' or 'take a deep breath' again," Brightpaw scoffed, with only the slightest hint of comtempt. He was allowed a little comtempt. He deserved it.
A loud crack broke through the forest. Distant barking froze Brightpaw where he stood. Trumpetspore instinctually climbed up the nearest tree while Elmsprout shielded Brightpaw.
"What was that?" Brightpaw yowled, trying to breath.
"A thunder-stick," Elmsprout explained, grooming Brightpaw's neck. "The humans shoot fire out of them when hunting. It's alright, Brightpaw. They don't hunt cats. They like to hunt deer in AshClan and SlugClan the most."
"Elmsprout, I don't like how close that was," Trumpetspore called, peering between the barren branches. "They'll scare off the prey. We haven't caught much since the clerics' ritual, we need whatever we can get."
"We can't take down a human," Brightpaw said.
"There are a few things we can do to drive them off their hunt," Elmsprout said, ears angled toward the distant barking. "Let's see if they're on RippleClan territory." Elmsprout jogged toward the hunters, kicking up snow behind her. Brightpaw shook snow off his back and hurried after Elmsprout while Trumpetspore raced along the trees.
The breeze carried the human's scent to Brightpaw. It stun his nose like cinders. The smell of a crazed dog added depth to the scent. One of Brightpaw's earliest memories was of a barn dog gently sniffing his fur while Estherfern watched closely. They could be gentle giants, but no dog would stay calm when a thunder-stick exploded in its master's grip.
The human and their dog lingered within sight of the Great Northern River. The human, dressed in thick brown leathers, carried a long branch in their gangly paws. A muscular white dog with thick jowls and a bobbed tail stared joyfully at its master. It held a mourning dove in its jaws, which it presented to the human with a muffled bark. The human stroked the dog's head and took the dove out of its mouth.
"This is worse than I thought," Trumpetspore whispered, scampering into the underbrush with Elmsprout and Brightpaw. "They're bird hunting. We need those birds!"
"How do we stop them?" Brightpaw asked, crouched into the snow.
"It's dangerous," Elmsprout muttered, "but we may have to drive the dog away from its human. If we rile the beast up and lead it away, when its human finds it again, they may be so cold and angry that they'll give up the hunt and return home."
"Brightpaw, you should climb into the trees and watch us," Trumpetspore said. "Apprentices shouldn't have to fight off dogs."
"He'll be an adult next moon," Elmsprout pointed out. "He can help."
"We've lost two apprentices in three moons," Trumpetspore huffed. There was a weight to her voice Brightpaw had never heard before. "I'm still Brightpaw's mentor. He's staying in the trees." Brightpaw wanted to interject, but his words were stillborn.
When Trumpetspore nodded to the pine beside her, Brightpaw dutifully climbed the trunk. He danced around the needles, fearing the hunter would mistake him for a squirrel and fire lightning from their thunder-stick. The human scanned the forest while their dog scampered around their feet. The human's thunder-stick was almost as long as they were tall, with a sharp needle at the end. The thunder-stick's hollow end followed the human's gaze. Elmsprout and Trumpetspore crept through the snow, stiffening with every crunch. They moved behind the human and their dog, keeping an eye on Brightpaw in the tree.
Elmsprout and Trumpetspore yowled as loud as they could. The dog jumped up, barking with enough force to deafen Brightpaw. The human startled, thunder-stick angled toward Elmsprout and Trumpetspore's hiding spot, but cats were not their prey. They barked at their dog and gently placed the thunder-stick in the snow. The dog lunged toward the cauterwauling cats, spit flying from its loose lips. The human snatched its brown collar and pulled the dog back. The dog choked and whined, but pushed against its master, desperate to find the noisy mollies.
All Brightpaw wanted was to jump to the tree closer to his mentor, just in case. That's what he tried to do, at least. It wasn't a hard jump. He steadied his paws on the hanging branch. His tail twitched rapidly, quickly adjusting his balance. He eyed the shorter pine beside Elmsprout and Trumpetspore. An easy jump. So why then did Brightpaw find himself skidding against the snow-laden branches and tumbling through the pine needles?
Brightpaw landed on all four paws with a sharp yowl, just in front of Elmsprout and Trumpetspore. His body was soaked with half-melted snow. The shock of the fall slammed through his legs and seemed to stop his heart for a moment. Elmsprout and Trumpetspore stopped yowling, but the dog howled behind Brightpaw. The human yowled as Brightpaw turned around. The dog's strength was too much. The human couldn't pull on the dog's collar anymore. The collar slipped from the human's deformed paws. The dog launched itself as Brightpaw, lost in the frenzy of the hunt.
The dog's teeth, still red with bird blood, pierced Brightpaw's shoulder. Its whole mouth fit around Brightpaw's back. It lifted Brightpaw off the ground as Elmsprout and Trumpetspore watched on, as frozen as the ice that dribbled down the trees. Brightpaw shrieked, claws flailing. His back paw snagged the dog's gangly lips, but the dog didn't care. It turned to its master, presenting the newfound catch with stunning naiveity.
A sandy paw came down on the dog's muzzle. The dog spat Brightpaw out onto the human's feet. The human growled at the dog, reaching toward Brightpaw. Even though his body burned against the snow, Brightpaw scrambled for shelter. He ran into Elmsprout and Trumpetspore, who quickly pressed against him, purring. The human howled at their dog, but that was no longer any of the patrol's concern. They raced through the snow, everything else forgotten.
"I'm sorry!" Brightpaw cried as his wild paws crunched against heavy snow. "I'm sorry! I don't know why I did that!"
"You fell, it happens," Elmsprout said, taking the lead. "We've stopped their hunt. The bite isn't too severe, the clerics can clean the wound and bandage your shoulders." That meant more time with Estherfern… was Brightpaw ready for that?
He supposed he had to be.
(Brightpaw: 11, male, warrior apprentice, lonesome, lover of art)
While Mosspounce’s bruises heal, the broken bone takes one of Downstar’s lives.
[Image ID: Mosspounce and Downstar are healed. Under Mosspounce, it says - CONDITION: BRUISES. Under Downstar, it says - CONDITION: BROKEN BONE, LIVES LEFT: 2.]
(Downstar: 136, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)
A rogue asks the Clan to care for their son, Shrew, now that he is weaned.
[Image ID: Oilstripe, Carnationspeckle, and Waspdawn find a red kit. Under the three of them, it says - CONDITION: GRIEVING. Under the kit, it says NEW PLAYER: SHREWKIT, 1, MALE, BOSSY, NEVER SITS STILL.]
---
There were no safe patrols anymore. In Oilstripe’s mind, she could see what Anchovypaw reported every time he returned from patrol; black ichor smearing the grass and trees, the spiritual residue of monsters that lurked in the corner of your eye. Everyone knew that was why Silverpaw never returned to camp. Perhaps it was also why Oilstripe never saw the young molly’s spirit. Troutpool’s dreams simply told her Silverpaw had made it to the stars… eventually. That was why no apprentice could leave camp alone. That was why even the senior warriors asked for a few extra eyes to accompany them, even when not on patrol.
Today, Oilstripe had Carnationspeckle and Waspdawn to watch her back as they marked their borders. Haunted or not, RippleClan couldn’t give Gentlestar or Eelstar any ideas about expanding their territory in RippleClan’s time of crisis. They patrolled along AshClan's border first, spreading their scent wherever it smelled weak.
"Do you think anyone over there mourned for Weedfoot?" Carnationspeckle asked as Waspdawn finished marking a tree that sat right on the border.
"I'm sure of it," Oilstripe huffed.
"She saved their flanks," Waspdawn muttered, rejoining the couple. "They should be honored my mother deigned to help them." Deep within AshClan territory, the spirit of one of their warriors strolled through the trees. Even though they ignored Oilstripe, she felt the need to dip her head to the StarClan warrior. They could have killed one of the Ashes in the Water, for all she knew, but it felt right. It felt like the sort of diplomacy a deputy should show the former members of a different Clan.
"Who's that?" Carnationspeckle asked, her gaze following Oilstripe's. The ginger molly startled. Did her mate see the spirit too? But then Waspdawn's focus settled on something within the trees. Oilstripe's shock faded when a tortoiseshell, a living tortoiseshell, walked through the StarClan ghost. She carried a bright red kit in her jaws. The kit had a sharp blaze of white on his forehead that reminded Oilstripe of a star, or a half-moon set against a sunset. Oilstripe didn't recognize the tortoiseshell, but she knew her escorts. Barkfur walked beside the tortoiseshell, with Heronflank and newly graduated warrior Fernwhisper behind them.
"Ah, Deputy Oilstripe," Barkfur sighed as he approached the border. "Good, good. It's better we don't wait around."
"Who's this little tom?" Carnationspeckle purred, sniffing the red kitten.
"I'm Shrew," the kitten declared, wiggling as much as he could with his scruff in his mother's mouth. "Mom, let me go!" Shrew's mother obliged, placing her son at her paws. Shrew immediately tried to race off, but his mother hooked a paw around him.
"You're not an AshClan cat," Waspdawn noted.
"I hail from the northwest," the queen explained. "I… I've heard stories that the Clans take in kits whose mothers can't care for them."
"We…" Carnationspeckle said, blinking rapidly as she processed what the queen wanted. "We do. My daughter was one of those kits."
"We found her wandering our territory," Barkfur said. "We explained to her that AshClan isn't taking in cats from outside the Clan, but that RippleClan may be more open to assisting her."
"And we will, if that's what you want," Waspdawn said, dipping his head to the queen. "But.. why can't you care for Shrew?"
"He's the last of his litter," the queen sighed as Shrew, oblivious to the adults around him, nipped at his mother's grasp. "They all fell ill, I'm worried it's in their blood. I thought Clan medicine could help my son."
"He seems healthy to me," Carnationspeckle hummed. Shrew finally broke away from his mother and tumbled across the border. He chomped onto Oilstripe's leg with sharp kitten teeth. Oilstripe yelped and batted the excitable kit off.
"Very healthy," Waspdawn chuckled.
"So did his siblings," the queen gulped.
"You don't have to give him away," Oilstripe explained as Shrew gawked at Waspdawn's half-tail. "You can join RippleClan as well. We've accepted a few mothers in your position."
"I can't," the queen whined, flinching. "I'm sorry, I can't. I'm destined for the Other Side. I don't belong here. I waited until he, he, he was weaned, but… this is better. He deserves better than me." The queen looked to Barkfur and sighed, "I'm ready to go now."
"RippleClan will treat your son well," Barkfur promised. "We'll escort you to the river." He nodded to Heronflank and Fernwhisper, ready to depart.
"That's it?" Oilstripe huffed as Shrew finally paid attention to his mother. "No, you… you should tell your son something."
"Tell me what?" Shrew cocked his head. The queen stared back, her posture stiff. She swallowed hard. She kept opening her mouth, ready to explain, but she lost her courage each time.
"I'll see you in a while, Shrew," she finally croaked. She spun around before she could falter. Heronflank and Fernwhisper led Barkfur and the queen through the thick blankets of golden needles, under the gray-speckled leaves that clung to the trees, refusing to acknowledge the coming winter.
"You didn't give us your name!" Carnationspeckle suddenly yowled. Yet the queen didn't turn back. Her escort led her farther and farther from her only remaining kit.
"I know her name," Shrew huffed. "It's Mom."
A short while later, Shrew sat in the nursery while Troutpool put her nose in his ear, checking for fever. Oilstripe, Carnationspeckle, and Downstar sat around her, waiting for a diagnosis. Shrew laughed when Troutpool pulled her nose out. He itched his ear and ogled the Clan's vast medicine stores.
"He needs a better diet," Troutpool sighed, "but he's a healthy young tom. I don't see any signs of disease."
"Could his mother have lied about his littermates?" Downstar asked Oilstripe. "Perhaps she just wanted an excuse to give her child away."
"Why don't you ask her?" Shrew shot back, a tiny paw reaching for a pot. "She said she's coming back." Troutpool gently shoved his paw away.
"He doesn't understand," Carnationspeckle whispered. "I think he's too young."
"We could have Paleseed explain things to him," Downstar suggested.
"Maybe we let him believe that until he's settled into RippleClan," Carnationspeckle said.
"Mom?" Rattlepelt and Wildclaw trotted to the medicine den, peering around the older mollies. Leaves clung to Rattlepelt's fox pelt, mixing with the carefully woven lavender. Wildclaw crouched and scanned under Downstar's legs.
"Hi, Rattlepelt," Carnationspeckle purred, absent-mindedly touching her daughter's nose before turning back to Shrew. "We're a little busy right now. Can we talk later?"
"Halibut told us about the kit," Wildclaw huffed. "Rattlepelt insisted we meet him."
"That's a bit of a bold word," Rattlepelt chuckled. "I just suggested we stop by the medicine den."
"What are you?" Shrew gaped at Rattlepelt with giant blue eyes. There was no fear in his stare, like when a new apprentice met Rattlepelt at a Gathering and Oilstripe had to hide their shock from her adopted daughter. His gaze was more like emerging from the darkest level of the ocean into the sun.
"I'm a cat," Rattlepelt laughed. She squeezed around Carnationspeckle and sat next to Shrew. "My name is Rattlepelt, and this is my mate, Wildclaw." Shrew put his paws on Rattlepelt's fox pelt and his eyes grew bigger. He shoved his face into the red fur, purring.
"You're so soft!" Shrew gasped.
"Why don't you play with it?" Rattlepelt suggested. "Just be very careful." Rattlepelt slipped off her fox pelt and laid it in front of Shrew.
"You can take your fur off?" Shrew squealed. While that idea would have disturbed Oilstripe at Shrew's age, the little kit simply dove into the leather pelt, rolling in the well-groomed fur. Wildclaw laughed, and even Downstar managed to chuckle.
"I heard your mother asked us to take care of you," Rattlepelt said, laying beside Shrew. "My mother did the same thing when I was a kit. It was a little scary, but I'm glad she gave me up. I got Carnationspeckle and Oilstripe as my new mothers, and I'm very happy in RippleClan."
"You can have more than one mom?" Shrew sat up, the fox's tail covering his face.
"You can," Rattlepelt purred. She gazed tenderly at Shrew as he sniffed the fox pelt's lavender accents. She turned to Wildclaw, beckoning her inside. Wildclaw sat by her mate, similarly entranced by the little red kitten.
"You know, Shrew," Wildclaw purred, "now that you're staying with us, you'll get to sleep in the nursery. We don't want you to be lonely in there. If you want, Rattlepelt and I can move in with you. You can share a nest with us."
"Can I sleep with this?" Shrew asked, his teeth digging into the fox pelt.
"You can," Rattlepelt laughed, voice catching. She turned to Wildclaw, whispering, "Are you sure you want this? I don't want to hurt him."
"When it's just you in there," Wildclaw chuckled, gently batting Rattlepelt's head, "you'd die before you hurt a kit. You'll be great." Wildclaw and Rattlepelt snuggled against each other.
"Congratulations," Troutpool chirped, bunting her older sister. "Oh, I get to be an aunt! I'll make sure there's a nest ready for you." She squirmed around the other mollies and hurried to the nursery, squealing like a kit.
"Welcome to grandmotherhood, you two," Downstar chuckled, playfully nudging Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle.
"My heart was not ready for this," Oilstripe laughed awkwardly, trying to breathe.
"Shrew, from now on, you can call me Grandma," Carnationspeckle declared, diving to Shrew's level.
"I will!" Shrew chirped, utterly unaware of the implications. Carnationspeckle squealed and pressed against Rattlepelt with a deep purr. Oilstripe joined the family gathering, her heart expanding to make way for her bright, enthusiastic grandson.
(Wildclaw: 69, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)
Moontide, Vervaincough, Anchovystrike, and Billowhaze graduate from their apprenticeships together.
[Image ID: Moontide, Vervaincough, Anchovystrike, and Billowhaze are all grown up! Under Moontide, it says LEVEL UP! MOONPAW → MOONTIDE, QUICK TO HELP → EXCELLENT TEACHER. Under Vervaincough, it says LEVEL UP! VERVAINPAW → VERVAINCOUGH, BLOODTHIRSTY → INSECURE, LOVES NATURE → UNDERSTANDS NATURE, QUICK TO MAKE PEACE → GOOD MEDIATOR. Under Anchovystrike, it says LEVEL UP! ANCHOVYPAW → ANCHOVYSTRIKE, CURIOUS ABOUT STARCLAN → DEEP STARCLAN BOND. Under Billowhaze, it says LEVEL UP! BILLOWPAW → BILLOWHAZE, THOUGHTFUL → LOYAL, ACTIVE IMAGINATION → GOOD KITSITTER.]
(Vervaincough: 12, female, codekeeper, insecure, understands nature, good mediator)
(Anchovystrike: 12, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)
(Billowhaze: 12, male, historian, loyal, good kitsitter)
During their assessments, Currentpaw and Yarrowpaw find a former kittypet/Witch Hunter interested in joining the Clan. He takes on the name Venturedapple and becomes a codekeeper.
[Image ID: Currentpaw and Yarrowpaw stare at a long-furred brown and white tom. Under the tom, it says NEW PLAYER: VENTUREDAPPLE, 65, MALE, COLD, ELOQUENT SPEAKER.]
(Currentpaw: 12, male, caretaker, loving, constantly climbing, has lots of ideas)
(Yarrowpaw: 12, female, warrior apprentice, thoughtful, stares at fire)
Frostpaw gets the name Frostdancer, much to Gingerpaw’s envy.
[Image ID: Frostdancer is now in a long-furred adult sprite. Under her, it reads LEVEL UP! FROSTPAW → FROSTDANCER, STRICT → CONFIDENT, LOVER OF STORIES → GREAT STORYTELLER. Gingerpaw, in the same adult sprite, watches from the back with Estherfern.]
(Frostdancer: 12, female, artisan, confident, great storyteller)
(Estherfern: 130, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)
Asterblaze and Elmsprout reminisce about their old Clans when a WheatClan apprentice stumbles into the territory. They help him find his way home.
[Image ID: Elmsprout and Asterblaze speak with a black spotted apprentice. Asterblaze says, "We'll get you home, Fluffpaw." Under him, it reads LEVEL UP! CONSTANTLY FIDDLING WITH TOOLS → INVENTOR AND INNOVATOR.]
(Asterblaze: 43, male, caretaker, thoughtful, inventor and innovator)
Icepaw gets apprenticed to Shrewflame and Pearpaw trains under Whiteflower. Puddlewhisper goes to inform Nimblestep of her kits’ apprenticeship and decision.
[Image ID: Puddlewhisper watches from afar as Shrewflame and Whiteflower guide Icepaw and Pearpaw, now in the same apprentice sprites, out of camp. Under Puddlewhisper, it says LEVEL UP! THOUGHTFUL → RIGHTEOUS, + CONDITION: MANGLED TAIL. Under Icepaw, it says LEVEL UP! ICEKIT → ICEPAW, UNRULY → FIERCE, + NEW SKILL: NEVER SITS STILL. Under Pearpaw, it says LEVEL UP! PEARKIT → PEARPAW, QUIET → RIGHTEOUS, + NEW SKILL: LOVER OF STORIES.]
---
Lettucestar and Oilstar both agreed at the Gathering that they would each apprentice Nimblestep's kits three days following the Gathering. At that time, a RippleClan patrol would meet SlugClan at the border, either with or without Icekit and Pearkit. Their absence would mark their decision. The kits had each emphatically told Puddlewhisper that they would stay in RippleClan, but as their apprenticeship drew closer and closer, Puddlewhisper couldn't help but wonder; would they change their minds?
As dawn approached, heralding the litter's apprenticeship, Puddlewhisper was the first in the nursery to wake up. All the kits were big enough that they needed their own nests, so Puddlewhisper found her side absent of warm faces. Icekit and Pearkit still had their nests close to Puddlewhisper, however. Icekit laid on his back, twitching in the depths of a dream while Pearkit laid in a peaceful lump, quietly dozing. Midnightkit and Valleykit had crawled into one another's nests over the course of the night, leaving Rattlepelt buried under her fox pelt alone. Stormjump, plump with her pregnancy, was dead to the world while Dovekit blocked Puddlewhisper's path out of the den. He had somehow gotten out of his nest and decided to sleep stretched out across the entrance like leather flooring. Puddlewhisper rolled her eyes. The sooner that odd lump of fur was in the apprentice's den, the better.
Puddlewhisper crept around Icekit and Pearkit. She nimbly stepped over Dovekit and into camp. It was still dark out, meaning that dawn patrols had yet to set out and no one had begun their day. The camp was quiet, save for the hum of the late night birds and the shifting presence of one of the caretakers outside. The waning gibbous moon hovered behind the shipwreck, turning the landmark into a dark shadow painted against Silverpelt.
To Puddlewhisper's surprise, she was not the first in camp to stir early. Paleseed hovered outside the apprentice's den, fiddling with moss. Paleseed spotted Puddlewhisper and paused with moss sticking between her claws.
"I'm just deconstructing Frostdancer's old nest," Paleseed whispered as Puddlewhisper approached. "We keep forgetting it's in here. Icekit and Pearkit can use some of this moss." Puddlewhisper nodded and sat next to her sister. A tickle crawled up her back despite the warm summer night. She stared into the empty apprentice's den and thought back to the days when all of her littermates crowded inside, eagerly sharing tales of their training deep into the night. Ripplefern's memory was a haze in the back of the den. Would she be there as Icekit and Pearkit decided on their futures?
"Puddle?" Paleseed purred, drawing her sister's eye. "Icekit and Pearkit already said they want to stay here. Why do you look so tense? Did they change their minds?"
"I don't think so," Puddlewhisper gulped. "Still… if I knew I had kin in another Clan, I would want to meet them."
"Whatever happens," Paleseed promised, grooming Puddlewhisper's neck, "you've been a good mother." Puddlewhisper licked Paleseed's ear. She bunted Paleseed's shoulder and, for a moment, pretended Nimblestep didn't exist, that she had been born a molly, that Icekit and Pearkit were forever, always, and unconditionally hers.
The pair sat in the well-trodden sand, each grooming the other as light leaked over the horizon. The Clan slowly stirred around them. Whiteflower and Shrewflame ran for the artisan's den as soon as they stirred. They nearly knocked over Downstar's almost-finished sculpture, ready to be painted and stored beside Weedfoot's image in a rocky off-shoot of the elder's den. Yarrowclaw limped out of the medicine den, her deep wound slowly forming into a neat scar. Halibutdusk, Rapidleaf, and Mitespark gathered around the fresh-kill pile, debating how they would handle the sunhigh meal.
When Dovekit charged out of the nursery and hassled Yarrowclaw, Puddlewhisper knew it was time to greet her kits. Paleseed sensed her sister shift beside her and stopped grooming her back.
"Make them look pretty for today," Paleseed hummed as Puddlewhisper headed for the nursery. Puddlewhisper stood a little taller as the den's interior came into view. Sure enough, everyone inside was awake. Midnightkit and Valleykit jogged past Puddlewhisper, leaving Rattlepelt alone to stretch and adjust her fox pelt. Stormjump stayed in her nest, weighed down with no reason to get up and go. Icekit and Pearkit whispered to each other, heads dipped low. Pearkit, however, perked up as Puddlewhisper came in.
"Mom," Pearkit said, jumping around Icekit and stopping at her mother's paws. "Do you know when Oilstar will call for the Clan?"
"I'm sure she won't wait too long," Puddlewhisper promised as Icekit joined his sister. "How do you both feel?"
"My head hurts a bit," Icekit admitted, tail twitching awkwardly, "but I'm ready to have the ceremony."
"And you both still…" Puddlewhisper gulped.
"We're staying, Mom," Pearkit promised. She bunted Puddlewhisper in the chest. "We can get to know our kin at the Gathering." Puddlewhisper purred deeply, all the trapped anxiety in her chest flooding out as she pulled Pearkit close and rapidly groomed her head. Icekit tried to step around the two mollies, but Puddlewhisper stuck out her hind leg and blocked him.
"You need to look nice for the ceremony, too," Puddlewhisper chuckled. Icekit groaned dramatically, but stayed where he was.
It wasn't long before Oilstar yowled from the top of the Shiprock, "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather below the Shiprock for a Clan meeting!" By then dawn had firmly settled itself across RippleClan, the sun forming a gibbous shape against the edge of the ocean. Icekit and Pearkit's fur was groomed to perfection, with not a single curvy hair out of place. Weedfoot had the same standard of perfection for Puddlewhisper's apprentice ceremony, so why should she stray from tradition?
Icekit and Pearkit flanked their mother as they all entered the camp clearing. With the pair at either side, Puddlewhisper preened a little; her kits would never outgrow her. Pearkit was shaping up to be a rather small molly, more round than tall, while Icekit had a fairly average build. Both already looked like little warriors, though. Oilstar stood on the Shiprock, her autumn decor glowing against the sunrise. How strange it was to see her standing in Downstar's spot, overlooking all of RippleClan. And by all, Puddlewhisper meant all of RippleClan; not a single cat had left for patrol yet.
"Stand at the front of the crowd," Puddlewhisper told her kits. She slipped away from Icekit and Pearkit and found an empty spot beside Paleseed, Lavendertwist, and Waspdawn. Icekit and Pearkit stood in front of the Shiprock. RippleClan curved around them like water around a rock. Wildclaw sat at the base of the Shiprock, as was her place as the Clan's new deputy. Another strange sight.
"Apprentice ceremonies are an exciting day in RippleClan," Oilstar began, speaking loud and strong. "This ceremony is especially interesting, because today we don't just ask the young cats before us if they are ready to train. We ask them if they wish to devote themselves to RippleClan." Oilstar stared at Icekit and Pearkit as she spoke her next words. "Icekit, Pearkit, you both joined RippleClan under tense circumstances. We didn't expect your birth mother to return, especially not as a SlugClan warrior. I can't continue this ceremony without apologizing to you both. RippleClan killed your father, Achilles, and drove your mother to flee and leave you behind. We have tried to earn your forgiveness, but we cannot keep you here if your heart calls for you to join your mother and sister in SlugClan."
"We want to stay here, Oilstar," Icekit yowled, nearly interuppting Oilstar. "I don't care how I ended up here. This is my home." A few cats cheered at Icekit's proud declaration, Lavendertwist among them. Waspdawn touched his nose to Puddlewhisper's pelt, pressing congratulations through her skin.
"Pearkit, you share this perspective?" Oilstar asked.
"Yes," Pearkit said. Her voice collapsed under her with another, louder cheer from RippleClan.
"Save the cheers for later!" Oilstar laughed as Icekit and Pearkit squirmed under the attention. "We have a ceremony to conduct! Usually I learn what path a kit's paws call them down before we gather, but there were other matters to settle. Icekit, Pearkit, what do you want to train as?"
"I want to be a teacher!" Icekit declared just as Pearkit tried to talk. "It's such a new role. I want the other Clans to have teachers too!"
"I want to know how the world works," Pearkit quickly added. "Can I train as a historian?"
"I have the perfect mentors for both of you," Oilstar purred. "Icekit, Pearkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. Icekit, Pearkit, until you earn your full names, you shall be known as Icepaw and Pearpaw." Icepaw and Pearpaw seemed to glow with the power of their new names. "Icepaw, you will be apprenticed under Shrewflame."
"I get an apprentice!" Shrewflame shoved through the crowd, his whole body vibrating and his paws suspiciously stained with orange paint. Wildclaw hid a chuckle as Shrewflame touched his nose to Icepaw's.
"Pearpaw, you will be apprenticed under Whiteflower," Oilstar declared. Whiteflower left the crowd with far more grace than his older brother. He too had orange paint on his white paws.
"I'll do my best," Whiteflower purred as he touched noses with Pearpaw.
"Icepaw! Pearpaw! Icepaw! Pearpaw!" RippleClan cried. Puddlewhisper cheered from the bottom of her lungs.
"Let's tour the territory before the artisans realized we touched their paint supplies," Shrewflame whispered, nudging Icepaw along.
"We'll see you soon, Mom!" Pearpaw cheered as she and Whiteflower hurried after their brothers. They streaked ahead of the pair and managed to get out of camp first. Puddlewhisper waved goodbye as the Clan dissolved into relieved chuckles and grateful purrs. They were gaining two apprentices rather than losing two kits that day.
"Puddlewhisper!" As the Clan set about their duties for the day, Oilstar hopped off the Shiprock and joined Puddlewhisper and her littermates. "I need you to take Venturedapple and Wolfgaze to the border. SlugClan's expecting a patrol."
"Oilstar, Puddlewhisper shouldn't go," Waspdawn huffed, flicking his ear to catch the leader's attention. "She's Icepaw and Pearpaw's mother. SlugClan will be furious with her. Let me lead the patrol."
"Lettucestar wants this handled as much as we do," Oilstar sighed, shaking her head. "I want Puddlewhisper to face SlugClan so we all can have good relations again. They shouldn't see Puddlewhisper as a kit thief, and we shouldn't hide her like one."
"Not to doubt Puddlewhisper," Lavendertwist added, scratching an itch under his collar, "but maybe the three of us can at least come with? I don't really trust SlugClan to handle this well."
"They might behave better with a mediator around, too," Paleseed pointed out.
"If you're all so nervous about it," Oilstar said, "you can go with. Just don't make this seem like a war patrol, please? We've had enough injuries from the other Clans lately."
With a few quick stretches and a call to Venturedapple and Wolfgaze, Puddlewhisper's patrol was off for the border. As they left camp, Puddlewhisper spotted her kits and their mentors lingering along the southern coast. They splashed in the shallow salt water, laughing like kits. Puddlewhisper's heart warmed. Perhaps young mentors would make Icepaw and Pearpaw's lives feel a bit more normal. They deserved normalcy.
"They fell in a heap to claw the mud," Lavendertwist sang as the patrol pressed through the bright green forest, "that dyed their muzzles and pelts in rud, tunnelled until the ground bore blood, with all the blowflies swarming."
"Are you really singing 'Quiet Jaypaw' on a day like this?" Waspdawn sighed, unable to hide a hint of mild amusement despite how he shook his head.
"'Quiet Jaypaw'?" Venturedapple muttered from the back of the patrol.
"A creepy song about a roguehearted apprentice," Puddlewhisper hummed.
"Silverpaw used to love that song!" Wolfgaze laughed, jogging up to Lavendertwist's side.
"Ripplefern and I learned it from a SlugClan apprentice when we were young," Lavendertwist chuckled. "It feels like… the right song for the moment. You remember the main part, Wolfgaze?"
"Where, o where is quiet Jaypaw?" Wolfgaze sang, lacking the same skilled voice as Lavendertwist but sharing in the heart of the song. "Quiet Jaypaw can't be saved."
"Where, o where is quiet Jaypaw?" Lavendertwist joined Wolfgaze in the song. "Quiet Jaypaw, quiet grave." Lavendertwist and Wolfgaze laughed as they finished, earning an eyeroll from Venturedapple and a hidden purr from Waspdawn. Puddlewhisper hummed the melody under her breath, yet her gut twinged. Would she want the bearers of bad news approaching a meeting like this in song? Yet as Lavendertwist started the next verse, he glanced at Puddlewhisper, hesitating through the first line. Ah. So that was the reason.
"Poked at the grave 'til it bared its bones," Puddlewhisper hummed along with the two singers, "it bared its bones, it bared its bones, it bared its bones, poked at the grave 'til it bared its bones, the crows call out their warning."
"Finches and warblers, gray catbirds," Paleseed joined in, "With twisted beaks and eyes all blurred, feathers as red as a fox's fur—"
"Savage and painted and warring," Waspdawn muttered. Lavendertwist, Wolgaze, and Paleseed cheered at Waspdawn's voice. Puddlewhisper decided she would have to teach her kits that song. The chorus replaced Puddlewhisper's dread as the patrol (sans Venturedapple, who stared bug-eyed and confused) trekked through the brightening forest.
The patrol beat SlugClan to the border where RippleClan, WheatClan, and AshClan met, but only by a little. Puddlewhisper barely had time to find a sundappled rock to rest upon before shapes slipped through the trees. Lighttrail was at the front, with one of SlugClan's mediators at his side. But the molly everyone expected and dreaded to see plunged past them, blue eyes sparkling.
"Are they here?" Nimblestep gulped, skidding to a stop at the edge of RippleClan territory. She scanned the large patrol, but her ears dipped lower and lower as she saw no small bodies in the crowd.
"Icepaw and Pearpaw," Waspdawn sighed, clearing his throat, "have decided to stay in RippleClan." Nimblestep contnued to search the patrol, but her face fell further and further.
"I can't say I'm surprised," Lighttrail muttered.
"They are still looking forward to meeting you, Nimblestep," Paleseed quickly interjected, trying to catch Nimblestep's fluttering attention. "They can explain their perspectives at the Gathering."
"What do I tell Quickpaw?" Nimblestep gulped. Her wide eyes focused on Puddlewhisper, who sat calmly in the center of the RippleClan patrol. "What did you tell them about me?"
"They know you care," Puddlewhisper said, picking her words carefully. "You still hurt them, though." Puddlewhisper risked moving closer as Nimblestep's breathing tightened. "You left them for dead, and made them fear for their lives with that patrol. I'm sorry, but you'll have to live with that."
"None of this would have happened if RippleClan weren't a group of foxhearts!" Nimblestep hissed. "You caused this! You took my family from me!"
It was simple hopefulness that kept Puddlewhisper so close to Nimblestep as the brown molly's lips curled and her claws glinted in the dappled morning light. But it was the echo of her words that kept Puddlewhisper from running as Nimblestep pounced on her. Her fangs instantly sunk into Puddlewhisper's tail, as though trying to bite straight through.
"Nimblestep, stop!" Lighttrail barked as every cat, SlugClan and RippleClan, converged on the furious mother. As Puddlewhisper tried to save her tail, however, Nimblestep's furious shaking stopped. Her jaw froze around Puddlewhisper's tail, still digging into her skin, blood still blooming around her fangs, but no longer applying active pressure. She wasn't even breathing. As Puddlewhisper suspected, Wolfgaze stood behind her, green eyes burning with star-given power. Puddlewhisper's body went numb as she looked into Wolfgaze's eyes.
"So this is the Rule of Three in action," Lighttrail muttered, backing away from Nimblestep, eyes locked on Wolfgaze. Waspdawn and Lavendertwist pried Nimblestep's frozen mouth off Puddlewhisper's tail. Puddlewhisper scrambled back, her blood burning. Paleseed swooped around her sister and groomed her pulsing wound. Waspdawn and Lavendertwist shoved Nimblestep back over the border. Wolfgaze broke her supernatural connection. Nimblestep's wide jaw snapped shut on empty air. She startled, tumbling back into the SlugClan mediator.
"Go home, now," Waspdawn growled. "The apprentices made their decision. That's the end of it." Waspdawn joined Puddlewhisper as Paleseed helped her to her paws. Puddlewhisper cradled her numb tail to her side.
"You are witches," Nimblestep hissed as Lighttrail pushed her back toward SlugClan. "Achilles was right. RippleClan is full of witches! This is all your fault!" Another strong shove from Lighttrail silenced the grieving mother. The small SlugClan patrol stumbled back to their territory, prizeless.
"I knew this was a bad idea," Lavendertwist muttered, glaring at the retreating cats.
"Let's get Puddlewhisper to the clerics," Venturedapple said, quietly taking the lead back home.
"Don't tell my kits yet," Puddlewhisper hissed through gritted teeth. "Let them enjoy their first day out of camp."
"StarClan knows what sort of wicked thoughts Nimblestep would have taught those kits," Wolfgaze grumbled as the patrol followed Venturedapple. Puddlewhisper focused her energy on the pain in her tail, but her thoughts still spun. Cruel or not, just or not, Nimblestep was right.
RippleClan destroyed her family.
(Puddlewhisper: 62, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)
(Wolfgaze: 31, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)
Dovepaw gets to train as a warrior under Wolverineheart. Scaleripple takes all the new apprentices training and discovers he really likes teaching. He asks Thundergale and Shrewflame to help him be a teacher.
[Image ID: Scaleripple guides Pearpaw, Icepaw, and Dovepaw (now in a tall apprentice sprite) through a hunter's crouch. Under Dovepaw, it says LEVEL UP! DOVEKIT → DOVEPAW, IMPULSIVE → OBLIVIOUS. Scaleripple says, "Crouch like this…" Under him, it says LEVEL UP! FORMIDABLE FIGHTER → UNUSUALLY STRONG FIGHTER.]
(Pearpaw: 6, female, historian apprentice, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories)
