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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On their way to the Gathering, a large dog tears out from AshClan territory and mauls Vervaincough.
[Image ID: A huge red dog stands behind an unaware Vervaincough as someone yowls, "Dog! Dog! Dog!"]
There was a lot to do to prepare for the Gathering that night. RippleClan had recovered enough from the Ocean's Assault to properly contribute to the Gathering again, and thus loaded their baskets with fresh-kill and goods for trade. It seemed Oilstar invited everyone who could attend that night, perhaps a show of strength to the new leader of AshClan. Lichenstar was on Lavendertwist's mind as well, but for different reasons than his respected leader. The collared historian sat with his children by the artisan's den, his shadow cast over them both.
"Our Clanmates are going to make a lot of harsh comments about Eelstar tonight," Lavendertwist warned his kits as Frostdancer packed pouches of salt along a heavy cord and Gingerspring groomed himself. "I don't want your mother to have to hear any of it. Even though she left AshClan, she cared for her father, and she deserves a chance to mourn him."
"I would never make it worse for her," Frostdancer huffed, scooping the last pouch into the pot of salt at her paws. "I assume you're talking about cats who don't know when to stop talking." Frostdancer glared at Gingerspring as she tightened the pouch in her teeth.
"I talk with AshClan cats all the time," Gingerspring scoffed. "I'm the perfect mourner around them. She doesn't have to worry about me. She should worry about the stories you like to tell at the Gathering."
"I'm not going to talk about the Ashes in the Water tonight!" Frostdancer snapped.
"Your mother also doesn't need any fighting tonight," Lavendertwist groaned, batting both kits on the head. "You're littermates! You can both get along for your mother's sake."
"I won't say anything about Eelstar tonight, Dad," Gingerspring promised as Frostdancer pulled the heavy necklace of salt pouches around her neck.
"I'll takee that, at least," Lavendertwist sighed, purposefully ignoring the bitter look Gingerspring shot at Frostdancer.
"Grab your baskets, everyone!" Oilstar yowled near the camp entrance, adjusting the leaves in her fur. "We need to leave now if we want to beat AshClan to the Leader's Stone! Let's keep on our paws tonight!" Wildclaw hurried out of the nursery, the smell of her recently adopted litter whafting off her pelt. She took her place beside Oilstar and led the way out of camp. Lavendertwist scrambled into the crowd, searching for the gray and white pelt he so adored.
"Lavendertwist!" Elmsprout's tail stuck over the crowd. Lavendertwist shimmied past his Clanmates into the heart of the group, where Elmsprout walked alongside Halibutdusk.
"Are you ready for tonight?" Lavendertwist asked, nuzzling his mate as he matched the Clan's pace.
"Ready for the whole Gathering to ask me how I'm coping," Elmsprout sighed. "That's why I asked Halibutdusk to sit with us tonight. I could use a buffer."
"I'm going to assume that is a compliment," Halibutdusk hummed with a flick of their ear.
The snow outside of camp was smushed down by countless paws trekking back and forth. Oilstar and Wildclaw led RippleClan along the pawprints of earlier border patrols, deep and trailing, easily disrupted by excited paws and heavy baskets. The sunset was dull with the heavy clouds, more like a black pelt dragged across the land than a beautiful color show. At least the pride of RippleClan kept everyone warm.
"I hope the clouds aren't a bad sign," Elmsprout sighed as RippleClan reached the dark treeline, abandoning the glow of the camp fire. "I heard that generations ago, the Clans would have canceled the whole Gathering over this."
"If StarClan wants us to meet in winter," Halibutdusk pointed out, "we have to tolerate a moonless night."
"I can just hear AshClan worrying about Eelstar's spirit," Elmsprout groaned. "They'll say my father sent the clouds for one reason or another!"
"I'll keep them off you tonight," Lavendertwist promised.
It wasn't long before RippleClan found the border of WheatClan and AshClan and started the next leg of the journey to the Leader's Stone. Just as Lavendertwist leaned in to lick his mate's cheek, absorbed in conversation, Vervaincough stumbled into him, pushing against the flow of the crowd.
"Sorry, Lavendertwist!" Vervaincough gulped, scampering backward out of the rush of cats. "I'm just trying to get to the back."
"Vervain, will you make sure to see me later tonight?" Halibutdusk asked. Vervaincough drifted further back, but Halibutdusk dragged their paws. "The clerics are sharing ancestor sightings tonight. I want to see if they've spotted your mother and sisters in StarClan."
"I promise to sit with you," Vervaincough called, jogging backward. She hurried to the far back of the crowd, where Slushtrail wandered with her gaze drifting around the dark trees. Vervaincough gently nudged Slushtrail and spoke softly with the brown and white mediator. Lavendertwist quickly remembered the tom who was supposed to be walking alongside his sister, a tom Lavendertwist mentored, a tom who could have done so much more. Lavendertwist's scar burned with bittersweet memories.
"I should join that tonight," Lavendertwist muttered as he, Elmsprout, and Halibutdusk rediscovered their pace. "It would be nice to better understand how Tallowheart is doing. And Billowhaze. And… Splashtuft."
"Poor Drumtooth," Elmsprout whimpered. "He and his brothers just don't know how to react. I think it's why those three volunteered to stay behind tonight. They need some time to really work through his disappearance. And don't get me started on Floodsplash. She finally goes back to her duties after the flood, and she plummets into a depression with Billowhaze's death. Maybe the new kits will balance out all the loss."
"I don't like gossiping about mourning cats," Halibutdusk muttered, ears twitching down.
"I'm not trying to be cruel," Elmsprout insisted. "I'm letting you know how they're coping."
"To be fair, Elm," Lavendertwist groaned with a twirl of his tail, "a lot of cats will be 'letting each other know how you're coping' tonight. And I don't think you like that." Elmsprout mrowed softly, caught in her hypocrisy. She dipped her head and cleared her throat.
"Maybe I should see if Terracottafoot has seen my father in StarClan," Elmsprout admitted. "I… I do hope we can meet again in Silverpelt." Halibutdusk and Lavendertwist nodded.
"Dog! Dog! Dog!" Lavendertwist almost didn't hear the yowl above the chatter of the crowd. He glanced behind him, the first to turn his head.
The dog came from AshClan. Lavendertwist saw it charge across the border, ignoring the frantic yowls of AshClan cats behind it. It was a muscular white beast with a curling tail that blended into the shadowed snow. Thick slobber dribbled along its pointed chin. A hundred tragedies filled Lavendertwist's mind. Dogs with foaming mouths, infecting survivors with a disease no cleric could ever hope to cure.
By the time the rest of the Clan heard what Lavendertwist heard, the dog was right behind Vervaincough.
The dog collied with Vervaincough like a kit stumbling over a moss-ball. Snow flew around them like an explosion. A spray of blood soared out from the chaos. RippleClan panicked. Some pushed forward, mediators and artisans who lacked the training to take down such a big dog. Others surged against the fear, hurrying to Vervaincough's aid. The black codekeeper's cries pierced the night like a stalking owl.
Lavendertwist was almost lifted off the ground by the opposing forces pushing against him. Halibutdusk, meanwhile, shouldered Ravenweaver aside as she ran past them and broke free of the swarm. Lavendertwist followed their path, jumping over Elmsprout. Four AshClan warriors surged across the border just as Lavendertwist, Halibutdusk, and the other RippleClan warriors reached Vervaincough and the dog.
A sea of warriors smashed into the slobbering dog. A dozen different pelts, black and ginger and brown and blue, smeared against the dog's scruffy white fur. Warriors of both AshClan and RippleClan dragged the dog off the quivering red-stained mass that was Vervaincough. Lavendertwist never even laid a paw on the dog; the rest of his Clan dealt with the beast with such a feral fury that he could turn his attention to Vervaincough.
Vervaincough was a mess of deep bite wounds. Blood pooled around her collarbone. Her lean muscles quivered with painful spasms. Wild silver eyes shook as Halibutdusk crouched by their daughter's face, noting each and every lethal blow.
"Dad," Vervaincough croaked, paws twitching.
"I'm here, I'm here, I'm not letting you go," Halibutdusk stammered, shoving their muzzle under Vervaincough's bloody shoulder. They lifted their daughter up. Vervaincough's neck dangled, dripping into the snow. Halibutdusk's blown-out amber eyes barely took in the swarm of fury at their side, a horde of warriors that slowly wore down the dog's strength and beat it into the snow. Halibutdusk turned to Lavendertwist, who stared horrified, and screamed, "Help me!"
Lavendertwist bolted to Halibutdusk's side. He slipped under Vervaincough's flank. His pelt grew sticky with her blood. Memories of his near-fatal neck wound returned in a terrified haze. Lavendertwist dug his jaw into his skull and fought the memories off. The dog was no longer moving, but the warriors still beat into it, completely consumed in their outrage. Lavendertwist and Halibutdusk could not wait for an explanation from AshClan or orders from RippleClan. They simply ran, balancing Vervaincough on their backs.
The pair retraced the Clan's path back to camp. It made it easy to move through the snow, although Lavendertwist and Halibutdusk were not of the mind to appreciate that. Gray skies turned black as the night strengthened its hold over the territory. Lavendertwist's back burned with Vervaincough's intense heat. His legs felt as though they would fall off in his effort to match Halibutdusk's wild pace.
As Lavendertwist and Halibutdusk reached RippleClan's forest and the smell of saltwater returned to the trees, Vervaincough's haggard breathing slowed.
The brambles lining the camp entance tore at Lavendertwist's side when he and Halibutdusk returned. Honeybuzz, Drumtooth, and Leathermask sat around the camp bonfire, sharing tongues when the smell of blood hit their noses. A horrid mrow escaped Drumtooth's throat when he saw Vervaincough.
"A dog," Halibutdusk panted, running past the three borhters to the medicine den. "A damn dog came out from AshClan! Help her! Honeybuzz, help her!" Vervaincough tumbled into Estherfern's nest; no one had the time to care about who's nest was whos. Honeybuzz slipped between Halibutdusk and Lavendertwist and crouched beside Vervaincough's wounds.
Lavendertwist backed out of the medicine den. He almost bumped into Leathermask and Drumtooth, who watched wide-eyed from the entrance. Mitespark, belly heavy with milk and eyes droopy from the strain of kitting, peeked out of the nursery, trying to gauge what was going on. Waspdawn and Vasco crept out of the quarantine den, still a little shaky from yellowcough but strong enough to investigate the panicked sounds in the medicine den.
That was when a desperate, hopeless wail broke through the camp. Lavendertwist didn't have to look inside to know it was Halibutdusk. He didn't have to look to know what happened.
It all happened so fast. Lavendertwist's head buzzed. Was the rest of the Clan coming back to camp? Were they still going to the Gathering? This was supposed to be a fun night. Why did Lavendertwist's Clanmates have to suffer like this? Couldn't RippleClan have a season where someone didn't die?
"Dad!" Lavendertwist's skin jumped. Gingerspring hurried into camp, a basket of herbs bouncing against his chest. Dried plants flew out of the basket in Gingerspring's wild run. He stepped on the bloodstained snow, staining his pads.
"Dad, how's Vervaincough?" Gingerspring huffed, skidding to a stop in front of his father. "I came back in case Honeybuzz needs help. Oilstar is handling the dog, I think—"
Lavendertwist wrapped himself around Gingerspring. The blood smeared onto his back rubbed onto Gingerspring, camoflagued in his orange fur. Halibutdusk's wail rippled deep into the hearts of everyone in camp.
"Dad?" Gingerspring gulped. Lavendertwist pressed harder into his son. Gingerspring shoved his muzzle into his father's shoulder.
When you're a father, it is important to count your blessings. No one knows when they could slip away.
(Lavendertwist: 69, male, historian, playful, great singer, good storyteller)
(Vervaincough: 38, female, codekeeper, insecure, understands nature, good mediator)
Quickpaw joins Wolverineheart, Thundergale, and Midnightpaw training. The half-blind warrior gives them both hope for the future.
[Image ID: Quickpaw and Midnightpaw, now in an adult sprite, sit in front of Wolverineheart and Thundergale.]
---
Quickpaw pounced first, living up to her prefix. Midnightpaw braced himself. His paws sank deep into the wet sand of Battle Beach. He kept his head at an angle, uncovered eye focused on Quickpaw, bandaged eye shielded. But could he keep it so?
Quickpaw spun around Midnightpaw. His bandage flashed clear for just a moment before he countered and faced Quickpaw once more. Quickpaw repeated her move. She lept over Midightpaw, and Midnightpaw once more countered. This wouldn't be as easy as it seemed. Midnightpaw's form was softer and rounder than other toms his age, but growing muscle stretched under that fluff. It was the sort of build that made Quickpaw assume Midnightpaw's fighting style was brutish and slow. But perhaps that was intentional.
Midnightpaw batted at Quickpaw's face, overwhelming her whiskers with too much input. Midnightpaw spun on his front legs. He kicked Quickpaw in the side.
"It seems unfair that he can go for my face, but I can't go for his," Quickpaw groaned as she locked herself around Midnightpaw's unprotected front legs. Midnightpaw dropped all his weight on Quickpaw's head. Sand smeared into her nose.
"You can explain to Estherfern why the scars on his eye reopened, then!" Wolverineheart called from her perch in the grass, laughing. Thundergale sat at her side, focused on each apprentice's moves. The sisters' brown pelts glowed in the morning light that richocheted off the gray winter sea. The snow had faded with an uncharacteristically warm day, but the deep cold that once more claimed the land promised more snow soon to come.
Midnightpaw laughed and let Quickpaw up. Quickpaw snorted out sand and shook out her pelt.
"Floodsplash taught me the trick with my eye," Midnightpaw purred, licking sand off Quickpaw's chest.
"You're good," Quickpaw panted. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You have more moons of sparring under your paws than I do."
"And I'm just better," Midnightpaw chuckled, sticking his tongue out. Quickpaw smacked Midnightpaw's shoulder, laughing.
"Alright, alright, let's review how you did," Wolverineheart said. She and Thundergale joined the apprentices on the sand. Quickpaw sat tall and polite, just as her SlugClan mentor taught her. Midnightpaw, meanwhile, laid on his back and watched the older mollies upside-down.
Wolverineheart nodded to Thundergale. Thundergale purred and began to sign. A touch of shame warmed Quickpaw's face. She was a historian now, she should be able to understand one of her most famous Clanmates. Yet Thundergale's quick flicks of her paw, the little twitches in her whiskers, all looked the same to poor Quickpaw. At least Wolverineheart could translate.
"You're really mastering Floodsplash's technique, Midnightpaw!" Thundergale signed with a purr. "Hopefully your eye heals well and you won't have to worry about guarding that side of your face. If Estherfern gives you bad news, though, I think you can handle yourself in a fight. You should work on partner fighting next. If you have someone else to watch your bad side, you don't have to be as cautious."
"It feels…" Midnightpaw hummed, with Wolverineheart translating back for Thundergale, "manageable, I think that's the word. It feels alright to not notice everything. Does that make sense?"
"It does to me," Thundergale assured him. She then turned toward Quickpaw. "Quickpaw, I could tell you struggled since you couldn't hit Midnightpaw's face. Try to take it as a chance to learn. Practice more moves that target the legs and tail. You don't want to rely on just a few battle moves."
"I know more moves," Quickpaw huffed. "It threw me off when I wanted to smack Midnightpaw's face, but had to remind myself I couldn't."
"Consider it a challenge," Thundergale suggested.
"Do you think I can graduate?" Midnightpaw asked, tail tilting up in misplaced hope. "I did well, right?"
"Midnightpaw," Wolverineheart sighed. Her kits may have only been a half moon old, but she had already mastered a maternal, disappointed tone that made Quickpaw's heart catch and the sound of her own mother slip through her ears. "We talked about this. You've missed a lot of training. It will take a few more moons before you're ready to be a warrior."
"I'm an adult now, though," Midnightpaw whined. "I beat Quickpaw. I can hunt. Isn't that enough? I can't still be in the apprentice's den when the new kits become apprentices! What sort of big brother would I be if I can't graduate?"
"I understand, I promise I do," Wolverineheart purred. She stopped translating for Thundergale, instead patting her sister's shoulder and moving closer to the two apprentices. She spoke in softer tones, gentle eyes flicking between Quickpaw and Midnightpaw. "I know you're both excited to graduate. You want to be responsible, respected. You're both a year old now, and I know Boughfur and I are trying to give you some space because of that. Just trust that you'll graduate before too long. This will all be a distant memory this time next year. Does that help?"
"Quickpaw has to graduate with me," Midnightpaw huffed, slapping a paw against her back. "It wouldn't be right for her to get left behind." Quickpaw couldn't find her words for a second. One moment, Midnightpaw was begging to graduate, the next he wanted Quickpaw at his side? What a strange tom.
"I'm the older one here," Quickpaw chuckled, shaking her head. "What makes you think you wouldn't be left behind?"
"Because I can do this, and you can't," Midnightpaw hummed, mischief glinting in his eyes. Midnightpaw smashed his flank into Quickpaw with a sudden twist, throwing the brown apprentice off her feet.
"We'll see about that!" Quickpaw roared, laughter bubbling through. She rolled back up just in time to brace for Midnightpaw's charge.
As Quickpaw and Midnightpaw traded blows and gouged the sand, Wolverineheart stepped back, rejoining Thundergale and loafing as she watched. Quickpaw could hear Wolverineheart's deep purr over the beat of her own heart and Midnightpaw's quick swipes. She dodged Midnightpaw's second swipe and locked herself around his back leg.
She wouldn't lose this time!
(Quickpaw: 13, female, historian apprentice, ambitious, good swimmer)
(Wolverineheart: 35, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)
(Thundergale: 35, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)
Halibutdusk’s angry comment during a border meeting with the new leader, Lichenstar, leads to a fight. Leathermask walks away with a badly torn pelt while Asterblaze sports a deep bite wound.
[Image ID: Halibutdusk, Rapidleaf, Asterblaze, and Leathermask stare down the new leader of AshClan, Lichenstar, a ginger and gray tortoiseshell. Halibutdusk growls, "You killed her. do you know that? your clan’s inattention drove a rabid dog into my daughter." Under Rapidleaf, it reads LEVEL UP! LONESOME → SNEAKY. Under Asterblaze, it says + CONDITION: BITE WOUND. Under Leathermask, it says + CONDITION: TORN PELT.]
(Asterblaze: 50, male, caretaker, thoughtful, inventor and innovator)
(Leathermask: 51, male, warrior, confident, good fighter, eloquent speaker)
Weevilsight comes back shivering with frostbite while asking WheatClan to help with Midnightpaw’s eyes.
[Image ID: Estherfern says to Weevilsight, "His scars have almost healed, weevilsight... you wasted your time." Under Weevilsight, it says + CONDITION: FROSTBITE.]
(Estherfern: 137, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)
(Weevilsight: 38, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
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.]
When Weevilsight won't leave the medicine den, her sisters force her on a walk.
[Image ID: Weevilsight, Wolfgaze, and Ravenweaver sit in the snow together. Wolfgaze and Ravenweaver groom Weevilsight, who sits disconnected from the world while she vents about all the grief and sorrow of recent moons, all stemming from their mother. Art by @unfortunatereader.]
(Weevilsight: 26, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
(Wolfgaze: 26, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)
(Ravenweaver: 26, female, artisan, den builder, very clever)
Washington provides a gentle and wise ear to Halibutdusk. He listens to Halibutdusk's grief and draws on his own recent losses to provide what little comfort he can.
[Image ID: Washington talks with Halibutdusk outside the medicine den. Halibutdusk sits, looking at their paws, while Washington lays beside him. Art by @smashgal.]
(Washington: 219, male, elder, nervous, good mediator)
Vervaincough takes her grief and frustration out on Slushtrail.
[Image ID: There are two images that include Vervaincough and Slushtrail in the snow. In the first, Vervaincough yells at Slushtrail with tears falling down her cheeks, angry and hurt while Slushtrail listens like a good mediator. In the next, Slushtrail grooms Vervaincough's head and wraps her paws around her while Vervaincough leans in, continuing to cry. Art by @salt-clangen.]
(Vervaincough: 26, female, codekeeper, insecure, understands nature, good mediator)
Rattlepelt and Wildclaw share a nest in the nursery for the night.
[Image ID: A two-page comic showing Rattlepelt and Wildclaw in the nursery at night, curled around Midnightkit and Valleykit. The camp is tinted purple, but Rattlepelt and Wildclaw's eyes are bright. Rattlepelt wears her fox pelt with lavender woven into the fur and stuffed in the eye sockets. The pair have the following conversation, which ends in Wildclaw pulling Rattlepelt into the nest and the pair curling around their sons:
W: "Rattlepelt?"
W: "The kittens will get cold with just me in the nest, dear, come in."
R: "I... shouldn't."
W: "What's wrong now?"
R: "You know what it is..."
R: "Mousesong, then Carnationspeckle's kidnapping, then I get possessed and it leads to the death of a kit. And me and Mousesong are just like our little ones, all of them orphaned, and now..."
R: "It's me , isn't it? Why Trumpetspore's gone? I'm- I must be cursed, and now what will happen to the kittens? or my moms? Or you-"
-she gets yoinked-
W: "first off."
W: "my mate is not cursed. I'd know, having had an omen cat as kin."
R: "ough! What in Starclan's-"
W: "and second, I can protect myself."
W: "I can protect them, and I can protect you."
W: "But right now, they need their mama to also warm them up, no matter what circumstances led them to our care."
Art by @cappuccino-bear.]
(Wildclaw: 83, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)
Surprise, everyone! I've been working with a few of my most vocal fans for a special moon update featuring proper art of your beloved cats! I am so grateful to everyone who agreed to draw a scene, especially since they had to keep some events secret for a while. I adore each piece. The individuality of each style is powerful and adds so much life to this. I promise happier moments ahead, even with the normal chaos of the Clans!
During a storm, the ocean waves crash into RippleClan’s camp, threatening to drown many.
[Image ID: Wildclaw and Brightreed stand on a boulder amidst stormy waters, with Wolfgaze on a rock in the background. Wildclaw yowls, "Valleypaw!" to which Brightreed responses, "I'll get him!" Under him, it reads + CONDITION: TORN PELT.]
It's a rite of passage for RippleClan kits to stare up at the great shipwreck that watched over the camp and ask the nearest historian "How did it get here?" After all, even the youngest kits could see the ocean from camp and hear the water at its highest tide, tail-lengths from the westernmost rocks. It never rose high enough to lift a ship all the way from the horizon to the top of the rocks. So how did it happen?
Historians would give some vague guess, some storm that none of them had ever witnessed, but they could never give a definitive answer. It had been there before their parents' parents' parents. No one would ever know what caused RippleClan's ship to wreck itself upon the coast of the Clans.
But that day, as rain pelted RippleClan as hard as claws against skin and saltwater leaked between the western walls, Yarrowclaw could imagine how the ship landed on RippleClan's shore.
RippleClan only realized that the storm had grown worse when Billowhaze loudly complained about his nest being wet, waking up everyone in the warrior's den. Water flowed through minute gaps in the wall in a steady stream, soaking into the leather floor. It ruined the nests near the back of the den, ending just before Yarrowclaw's nest. The brown and white warrior stirred only as surprised orders bounced around the den and cats scrambled out into the bruising rain.
"Asterblaze!" Wildclaw barked, the first out of the den. "Valleypaw! The warrior's den is flooding! We need to dam the holes!" Asterblaze and Valleypaw, who had both been guarding the camp through the night and were soaked through their skin, hurried into camp at the deputy's call.
"The water will ruin the artisan's den," Rattlepelt gulped, hurriedly pulling her fox pelt over. "We need paws to take our supplies to higher ground."
"You can direct the other artisans on that," Wildclaw told her mate with a swift nod. "The tree line should provide some cover for now."
"Valleypaw, loop around camp and find the weak points on that side of the den wall," Asterblaze told his young apprentice. "I'll get some mud, and that should seal them up well enough to get through this rain."
"I'll try," Valleypaw promised as the artisans swarmed past the stunned crowd of soaked warriors, following Rattlepelt's orders to move their pots and baskets.
"Be mindful of the waves!" Asterblaze added before Valleypaw ran out of camp. In an artisan's tale, that sort of statement would have been followed by a violent clap of thunder, but the sky was dark, simply relieving its unbearable load.
Yarrowclaw's fellow warriors squirmed and groaned at the rain, shaking or licking their pelts in vain. Ravenweaver and Mitespark rolled a large pot across the soaked sand while Frostdancer ran basketloads of smaller supplies out to the forest. Yarrowclaw's paws itched. Should she be moving supplies too? Would the rain ruin the fresh-kill? She could—no. No ideas. She had to just listen to what Wildclaw ordered. That was what was best.
"Where are we supposed to sleep?" Billowhaze groaned, ears dragged down with waterweight. "I'm not going back in there tonight."
"We'll figure that out," Wildclaw huffed. "I'm sure we can make room in the other dens."
Yarrowclaw was used to the sound of stormy waves hitting the shore beyond the warrior's den. She knew their foaming, creaking sound well. That sound was a steady backdrop to the night's annoyances. Yet Yarrowclaw's ears bled as a loud creak began to overtake Wildclaw's voice. Yarrowclaw looked toward the foam-stained walls of camp, walls that had never had so much ocean foam smeared on their surfaces as long as Yarrowclaw had been around. Beyond those bramble-topped walls, the ocean stood up.
"SHIT!" Wildclaw shrieked above the rising chaos as the gigantic wave crashed into RippleClan's camp.
Yarrowclaw's paws left the ground. Saltwater surrounded her on all sides. The force of the wave shoved the air out of her chest. Someone's large form smacked into Yarrowclaw's jaw. The pair locked claws into each other, desperate for something, anything, they could hold onto. The wave shoved the confused cats deep into the sand, pressed into the crook of a rock. Yarrowclaw's eyes burned with salt.
When the sting of rain hit Yarrowclaw's nose, the half-drowned warrior gasped violently. Her vision blurred as the cat she had collided with, Venturedapple, stumbled off her. Yarrowclaw coughed out salt and foam. Water formed a pool across the camp. The brambles that lined the eastern wall of camp were now thrown about the clearing, broken by the force of the water. Warriors laid in heaps, smashed against the rocks but still breathing, still groaning and hissing with newfound bruises. Oilstar shoved a fallen plank out from in front of her den and searched for explanation. Wolfgaze had somehow landed perfectly on top of the apprentice's den and looked just as shocked by the sight as Yarrowclaw felt about seeing her.
Some of the smaller rocks of the camp wall had rolled from their resting place. Yarrowclaw nearly exploded when she saw one of the rocks that formed the sides of the nursery had rolled in front of it, but she remembered—Stormjump had that infection. She was in the medicine den, and her kits would be with her or Honeybuzz. The medicine den only had a fallen plank floating in the paw-deep water, they were fine for now. Even though water now flowed over the rocks and deepened the waters within camp, everyone was still in camp. The artisans were by the forest, so…
Wait. No. Valleypaw.
"Valleypaw!" Wildclaw yowled. She had landed belly-up in front of the elder's den, next to a dazed Anchovystrike and an unconscious Leathermask. Despite her wounded Clanmates surrounding her, Wildclaw scrambled up, hissing as she moved. She limped toward the flooding wall and climbed onto the brambleless rocks. She searched the watery beach beyond the wall for signs of black fur and yellow eyes. As she looked, Brightreed crawled out from underneath Wolverineheart and Thundergale; the three had been washed against the eastern walls and laid under the falling water as they collected themselves. A bramble mass clung to Brightreed's body, but he shoved it off despite the blood mixing into the dark stormy waters.
"I'll get him!" Brightreed yowled. He jumped onto the slick rocks and dove into the unseen waters beyond. Wildclaw shook herself out, flinging thick drops about, before following the young warrior down.
Yarrowclaw examined herself. She was cold, yes, and certainly aching and bruised, like everyone else. Yet, unlike Leathermask, she was not unconscious. Unlike Brightreed, she was not bleeding. Unlike Tallowheart, when he stumbled into camp with broken ribs, nothing was broken. Even Venturedapple, who groaned at Yarrowclaw's side, seemed shockingly unharmed. Would he have been so safe if he hadn't been thrown into Yarrowclaw? He practically rode her to… to safety.
"StarClan, no," Yarrowclaw muttered, voice lost in the rain and crashing waves. "Please. I can't be prophesized. Please."
Yarrowclaw had barely listened to Oilstar or the clerics since Estherfern told her about her vision. Whatever it was about, Yarrowclaw couldn't help. She offered a dozen interpretations. If the ship was covered in white flowers, maybe they should be talking to the cat literally named Whiteflower. If it was a ship, maybe it was related to the shipwreck itself and not an individual cat. Anything could be true, except for what Yarrowclaw knew to be true. The feral little voice in her head was already rambling.
You're special. You knew it. You knew it! You're chosen. You're invincible. You're going to survive the storm. No matter what happens today, you can't die. StarClan said so. If ships carry others to shore, and you're the ship, you can save your Clan. No one will die if you're around.
No, no, no! Yarrowclaw couldn't be special, she could not be chosen or invincible for her own sake. The moment she gave into those wild, uncontrollable feelings, she put everyone at risk. And yet the vision… it was almost permission to give in. It was StarClan's way of saying just this once, you can be a little delusional, because in this situation, you aren't.
You get to be a hero, Yarrowclaw.
"Get to the forest!" Yarrowclaw yowled as Icepaw and Pearpaw waded out of the apprentice's den, coughing and shaking. "We need to get out of camp! Just evacuate!"
"Find your kin, everyone!" Oilstar barked as another wave crested over the rocks. The Clan dug their paws into the sand and stood against the salty pressure. Yarrowclaw shut her eyes to block out the sting. She held her breath when the water consumed her head and gasped when it receeded. The water now rippled at her elbows.
The clerics aren't out yet. They're dying. You can keep them alive. No one dies around you. Go.
Yarrowclaw jumped through the water, pushing against the terrified warriors flooding toward the exit. She stumbled, jaw smacking the cold water. As she pushed herself up, she saw Oilstar unite with Carnationspeckle in front of the water-filled artisan's den. The mates touched noses, grateful in each other's safety. Oilstar's eyes met Yarrowclaw, stunned at the only cat not flocking for the exit. She believes you're special too, she's the one who tried to convince you, she knows what you have to do. Yarrowclaw pressed on to the medicine den.
The medicine den was more flooded than Yarrowclaw expected. Water seemed to seep through the sand and the cracks in the shipwreck. The back half of the medicine den had turned into a water-filled cave. Tallowheart lingered at the water's edge, struggling to stand even with Troutpool's help. Gingerspring pounded on Weevilsight's prone belly until she vomited water. The tortoiseshell's signature petals floated out of the den. Midnightpaw cowered against the den wall, the left half of his face wrapped tight in bandages. He shook his head wildly as Honeybuzz and Estherfern cooed for him to move.
"It will get worse if we stay," Honeybuzz snapped. "Midnightpaw, we need to leave now. Just go!"
"I can't!" Midnightpaw whined, hiding his good eye against the ruined shelves of medicine.
"Weevilsight, come on, let's get out of here," Gingerspring gulped as Weevilsight stood, shaking and gagging. "We have to go!"
"Yarrowclaw," Estherfern gasped, the first to notice the newcomer in the chaos and rain. There was more fear in her eyes than Yarrowclaw had seen since Mosspounce carried Foampaw's mangled body into camp. Yet at the sight of Yarrowclaw, Estherfern's blown-out pupils relaxed, ever so slightly. "The vision. Just as your ancestors predicted." Estherfern turned toward Troutpool and Tallowheart, who limped away from the thick waters in the back of the den. "Stay with Yarrowclaw, you two. Nothing will happen if you do."
Yes! Yarrowclaw wouldn't let anyone die at her side. A silly storm couldn't kill her. Nothing could! Yarrowclaw bit her tongue. Blood mixed with saltwater.
"Midnightpaw, your brothers and mothers are just out of camp," Yarrowclaw huffed. "I won't let you get dragged off." Midnightpaw stirred from his blind panic, risking a long look at the brown warrior. Honeybuzz took his chance—he shoved Midnightpaw out of his little corner and into Yarrowclaw, splashing all the way.
"We need to get Indigo," Weevilsight coughed as the group trudged out of the medicine den. "They're in the quarantine den. They're still too weak to move through all this."
"I'll get him, I'll get him," Yarrowclaw huffed. She squinted as the full force of the rain once again burned her eyes. The floodwaters dragged at her fur, trying to keep her still.The camp was empty now, everyone else had evacuated. They knew Yarrowclaw couldn't die. No force of nature could contain her! The longer Yarrowclaw stayed in camp, the easier it was to believe that.
"Wait, look," Tallowheart wheezed, wincing as the effort of talking pressed against his broken ribs. A pale ginger figure slipped around the curve of the shipwreck, keeping a lilac cat on their paws.
"Pearpaw?" Troutpool gasped as Pearpaw helped Indigo shove through the heavy waters. "Why haven't you left camp yet? It isn't safe for an apprentice!"
"It isn't safe for Indigo, either, and no one was helping him!" Pearpaw snapped. She buckled as Indigo fell further into her, continuing to cough. Her shaking legs pressed hard into the unseen sand below and shoved Indigo back up.
"Knew I'd like this place," Indigo chuckled weakly. "Could do without the water, though."
"Wave!" Weevilsight screeched, her dark green eyes fixed on the rushing waters flowing over the rocks. Even though Yarrowclaw could not see or hear another massive wave, she knew Weevilsight's clairvoyance was never wrong. Yarrowclaw shoved Honeybuzz and Midnightpaw toward the western walls.
"Brace!" Yarrowclaw ordered as the creaking sound of another massive wave finally reached her ears.
The clerics and their patients swarmed the rocks, pressing themselves flat against the slick stones. Everyone breathed as deep as they could as the next tidal wave smacked over the entire camp. The ocean shoved Yarrowclaw into the wall as hard as it could. She couldn't move, even with her star-blessed invinciblity. The pressure shoved the air out of Yarrowclaw's chest, but she refused to breathe in water. Her face shoved into Honeybuzz's flank, and Midnightpaw's yowl of panic was suffocated by the onslaught.
When the chaos receeded, the water covered Yarrowclaw's belly. Pearpaw, Indigo, and everyone from the medicine den remained along the western wall, leaning against the rocks, struggling for breath. But they were there. Thanks to Yarrowclaw.
"Swim," Yarrowclaw barked, once more shoving Honeybuzz where she needed him to go. The bandages around Midnightpaw's face came undone from the water weight, revealing half-scarred and snarled red marks crossing over his swollen left eye. He instintively hovered at Pearpaw's side, just far enough to stay out of Indigo's way, but just close enough to keep his good eye on his friend. Tallowheart whimpered in pain, shaking as the water splashed against his bruised chest, but Troutpool and Estherfern helped him on.
The brambles of the camp exit were somehow still in place, forming a tight tunnel with barely enough room to breach the water. Not for them, then. The rest of the brambles that typically lined the rock walls were gone, so that would be the group's way out. Yarrowclaw scaled the smallest of those rocks. Her brittle paws rubbed hard against the rain-slick boulders. Honeybuzz climbed up and over, splashing hard in the open waters beyond camp. One by one, the occupants of the medicine den helped one another over the wall and out of their flooded camp.
The beach was gone. It lurked under the belly-high floodwaters, claimed by the feral ocean. Still, the ocean could not claim everything. RippleClan gathered at the treeline, panting and shivering. They yowled the clerics' names, running back to the water to help their kin to shore.
"Pearpaw!" Icepaw bolted ahead of the adults, charging at his sister. "You were supposed to be behind me!" Icepaw dragged his sister out of the water. Scaleripple slipped behind him and helped Indigo limp into the safe confines of thick, rolling roots.
"Midnightpaw!" When the wounded black apprentice made it to the forest, Rattlepelt wrapped herself around him, shaking harder than anyone else. Further back, Yarrowclaw saw Brightreed nursing his bramble-torn pelt, blood dissolving in the heavy rain. Wildclaw sat hunched in on herself, Whiteflower and Shrewflame on either side. She was wailing.
Yarrowclaw could not see Valleypaw.
"Stormjump!" Honeybuzz yowled as Oilstar and Carnationspeckle met the survivors at the edge of the muddy grass. "Stormjump! Where are my sons?" Oh. Had Yarrowclaw not been in the mindset that she could fight the ocean and win, her stomach might have dropped. She had been focused on getting everyone she saw out, not checking who should have been there in the first place.
"They weren't in the medicine den?" Oilstar gulped, voice strained. Honeybuzz's pupils blew out wide. "Honeybuzz, I saw them, your kits were sleeping with you tonight, you wanted to watch over Stormjump's infection."
"I sent them back!" Honeybuzz shrieked. His cicada wing necklace, still clinging to his neck after all the chaos, whipped against his neck as he spun back toward the camp. "Stormjump felt better! They're in the nursery!"
The nursery… the nursery with a giant rock in front of it… the nursery Yarrowclaw didn't think to check.
[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Yarrowclaw stand in the rain. Yarrowclaw says, "Treat the injured. I can do it. I can get your family out. I can't die."]
It's fine. You're fine. You're you. You'll get them out. They'll be fine. You'll bring them back. They can't die if you don't let them. Just go back.
No! Yarrowclaw was mortal! She'd probably drown trying to save them! She couldn't get them alone! She could lead a patrol. Yes, that was it. She just needed help. The vision never suggested it was all on Yarrowclaw.
Honeybuzz ran for the water, but Yarrowclaw instinctively stepped in front of him.
"No," she growled. "Treat the injured. I can do it. I can get your family out. I can't die." Her spastic eyes stuck onto the nearest cat. "Carnationspeckle. You're a good swimmer. We have to get them." Yarrowclaw almost wanted Carnationspeckle to reject, to pull rank, to force Yarrowclaw to stay with the rest of the Clan while other cats, cats who knew when their bodies were tired, cats who could give up, took her place. But Carnationspeckle turned to her mate, fear raising her hackles. Oilstar nodded.
"Venturedapple, we need your strength," Carnationspeckle called into the grieving, shocked crowd. Venturedapple emerged tall, eyes hard and ready.
"They're my kits!" Honeybuzz yowled. He tried to skirt around Yarrowclaw, but Splashtuft, Drumtooth, and Leathermask (who had luckily woken up from whatever blow he'd sustained earlier) lunged at their brother. The littermates pulled Honeybuzz into the crowd by his scruff as the gold and white cleric screamed, "They need me!"
"You're barely standing!" Drumtooth snarled, pinning his brother into the muddy grass.
"Your kits don't need their father drowning tonight," Leathermask said. He smacked Honeybuzz's flailing paws down.
"They can't end up like Mom," Honeybuzz whined. His claws pulled up large chunks of grass.
"The others will get them," Splashtuft promised. Of course they would. No one around Yarrowclaw would die. Whether StarClan simply knew it to be true for the night or whether they blessed her, Yarrowclaw was the ship that could bring them back to shore.
Yarrowclaw left Honeybuzz pinned by his brothers and charged back into the water with Carnationspeckle and Venturedapple behind her. Water now flowed steadily over the tops of the rock wall. Carnationspeckle leaped over the camp walls and dove into the submerged clearing. Water flew up Yarrowclaw's nose as she followed. The rock she had seen earlier, rolled in front of the nursery by the impact of the first massive wave, still sat, trapping its occupants within.
"Stormjump!" Venturedapple called, floating into the barricading rock. "Kits! Can you hear us!"
"Venturedapple!" It was Morningkit! His voice slipped through the rain-filled cracks of the blockage. "Help!"
"Everyone on this side," Carnationspeckle barked, swimming around the den. Yarrowclaw waded after her. "Venturedapple, Yarrowclaw, you need to push this boulder as hard as you can. I'm going to dive and dig out the sand around the rock, make it easier to move. Now push!" Venturedapple positioned himself next to Yarrowclaw. His long fur floated in the churning water. Carnationspeckle breathed deep and shoved her head under. Yarrowclaw braced her front paws on the rock. Venturedapple copied her. Hind legs digging into the sand, shaking under the pressure of the moving floodwaters, they pushed.
Don't think about Carnationspeckle. She doesn't matter. She doesn't even need to dig. You don't need any of them to save the kits. You can move this boulder all by yourself. StarClan chose you for this. Your legs don't hurt. You can't feel pain. You don't get tired. This isn't a bad thing. This is the best thing that could happen. Push the rock. Save those kits.
"Be kind to yourself, Yarrowclaw."
Yarrowclaw yowled as the boulder finally, finally, rolled a mouse-length back. Yarrowclaw couldn't see inside. Carnationspeckle pulled her head out of the water, sand caught in her fur. Yarrowclaw's legs gave out as Carnationspeckle and Venturedapple hooked their paws through the opening. With one last shove, the rock tumbled out from the entrance of the nursery.
The nursery was almost flooded to the ceiling. The deep, safe confines that Yarrowclaw spent her earliest days were hidden in the flood. A dark ginger form floated by the ceiling like debris far at sea. Three tom-kits clung to Stormjump's back. Their claws drew blood from their beloved mother, but she kept their small heads above the rising water. Stormjump's face was… peaceful.
Yarrowclaw grabbed Beekit by the scruff. He looked eerily like his father; same golden head and tail, same blue eyes, same white torso. It made the night loop in Yarrowclaw's head as Carnationspeckle pulled Patchkit and Morningkit close. Venturedapple grabbed Stormjump's still scruff and pulled her body out of the nursery.
"Mom told us to hold on to her," Patchkit stammered. "We held on, but, but we hurt her!" Carnationspeckle lifted Patchkit onto Venturedapple's sturdy back. Morningkit climbed on top of Carnationspeckle
"Where's Dad?" Beekit cried, squirming in Yarrowclaw's chattering jaws.
"We're bringing you to him," Carnationspeckle promised, voice breaking. "Just stay on us. You did so well. Stormjump is so proud of you." With the kits balanced as high above the water as they could carry them, the three brown and white cats waded toward the watery rocks and the forest beyond.
This didn't make sense. No one around Yarrowclaw was supposed to die. Why wasn't Stormjump moving? This wasn't what the vision said!
A ship could still bring a body to shore, it seemed.
(Yarrowclaw: 35, female, warrior, cold, fire master)
(Wildclaw: 92, female, deputy, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)
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The Witch Hunters find and kill Lemmy, leaving RippleClan in a strange state.
[Image ID: Darkkick, Terracottafoot, and Paleseed face Weevilsight. Paleseed says "Weevilsight?"]
Weevilsight nearly couldn't muster the energy for the Gathering. The last visit to StarClan's Shrine had been exhausting enough; Troutpool nearly cried when Trumpetspore didn't visit her dreams, and Weevilsight forgot her promise to Wolverineheart, to learn if Foampaw approved of her relationship with Mitespark, until just before the tortoiseshell cleric woke up. All the other clerics seemed forgiving of RippleClan's spaciness, yet Weevilsight dug her fangs into her lip and focused on her work. And part of that work was attending the Gathering.
Weevilsight and Honeybuzz were the only clerics accompanying the Clan to the Leader's Stone. Troutpool didn't want to face the official announcement of Trumpetspore's death, and Estherfern had to look after Gingerpaw, who somehow came up with the worst joke possible at Trumpetspore's vigil and was banned from the last winter Gathering. And thus, Weevilsight trailed within the middle of the RippleClan horde, following Downstar and Oilstripe along the SlugClan/WheatClan border. With Anchovystrike, Wolfgaze, and Ravenweaver staying behind, Weevilsight found herself with a duo she rarely got to interact with.
"I don't care how old they get," Paleseed said, adjusting her feather decor as she walked, "Terracottafoot is always going to look like a tiny scared apprentice to me. I can't believe how much they've grown! It's been ages since we had a chance to sit down with them, hasn't it, Darkkick?"
"We talked with them at Harvest Moon," Darkkick scoffed, fluffing herself up against the cold night wind.
"That was five moons ago!" Paleseed pointed out. "Before all… that happened."
"I thought mediators weren't supposed to avoid sensitive topics," Darkkick hummed.
"I'm trying to be respectful," Paleseed said. Even though the gray mediator was on Darkkick's right, and Weevilsight walked on her left, Weevilsight still saw the strained glance Paleseed sent her way.
"Why mince words?" Weevilsight laughed, venom in her voice. "My mom killed our Clanmates, my dad died, my aunt killed herself. I'm sure Terracottafoot can offer you some comfort." Considering Darkkick's short stature, she and Paleseed looked like a stunned, two-headed beast in the moonlight, their gaits evenly matched as they bawked at Weevilsight.
"I'll tell you the same thing I told your friend after the Shardling incident," Darkkick eventually huffed. "You handled that as best you could."
"I know that, Darkkick," Weevilsight sighed, staring at the cloud-lined moon as she walked. "I'm just going to feel like foxdung for a while."
"And that's okay," Paleseed added with a decisive nod. "You do what you need to do to grieve and come to terms with it all. You can always talk to me."
"I think she needs a friend, not a mediator, Paleseed," Darkkick muttered.
"Both work," Weevilsight hummed as the Clan approached the rock wall leading up to the Leader's Stone. It was slick with snow, making RippleClan's approach a slow and methodical process. Rabbitjoy walked along the edge of the path up, guarding Frostpaw from a potential fall. Boughfur took Tallowheart's basket while the rock-footed tom inched up the wall. A clump of snow fell from the grass above and smacked onto Stormjump's head, earning a laugh from her mate. Weevilsight's paws felt lighter. It felt normal, for the first time all winter.
As usual, RippleClan was the last Clan to arrive. Ospreystar, Eelstar, Gentlestar, and Lettucestar waited on the Leader's Stone while their Clans waited for their cue to mingle and share tongues. Downstar climbed to the second-highest platform of the Leader's Stone while Oilstripe took her traditonal place among the other deputies. Weevilsight laid in the half-melted snow and stared lazily at the Leader's Stone. The sooner announcements were done, the better.
The winter had been hard on the other four Clans in more traditional ways. WheatClan lost an overeager apprentice in the cold and an elder to distemper. LynxClan reported on harsh conditions in their rocky territory and gave their neighbors an official plea for hunting assistance. SlugClan and AshClan were a bit quieter, reporting a new litter and a death each, but Weevilsight couldn't help but notice how Eelstar and Lettucestar glanced at Downstar as they spoke.
"Before you begin your report, Downstar," Ospreystar said just as Eelstar finished delivering his news, "I want to say something that I didn't get the chance to last moon, when you announced the death of Mosspounce." The brown-speckled leader stood taller and faced the five Clans. "I want to formally declare LynxClan's gratitude to Mosspounce of RippleClan for killing the cougar that nearly destroyed us moons ago. He delivered the fatal blow, and for that, we hope that his story is honored with the same respect as Cougarstrike, Celestial of Cougars. LynxClan will hold a place in our hearts for RippleClan's brave caretaker."
"Mosspounce! Mosspounce!" the LynxClan cats cheered. Weevilsight sat up. Her ears rang with the sound of her father's name. Some of Weevilsight's Clanmates took up the cheer as well; Carnationspeckle and Asterblaze were particularly vocal. Weevilsight stayed still, unconsciously holding her breath. Her father was a hero.
"Take it with a drop of mouse bile, Weevilsight," Darkkick warned as the cheers began to die down. "I'm sure they are grateful, but this wh ole show is likely planned to win Downstar's favor. I'm sure LynxClan will be asking us for something soon."
"Thank you, Ospreystar," Downstar purred. "It does an old soul good to know that my grandson's fatal wounds were obtained for a good cause. I'm afraid that isn't the end of RippleClan's recent string of loss, however." Downstar shifted and prepared herself for the news. Weevilsight sank back down. Paleseed dipped her head and closed her eyes. "I'm sure some of you have learned of this, whether through meetings at the border or at the historian's gathering hosted by SlugClan this new moon. However, I regret to inform you that Trumpetspore, my granddaughter, took her own life shortly after the last Gathering." Quiet, shocked gasps rippled through the clearing. Eyes pierced the RippleClan delegation. Weevilsight closed her eyes and pretended she was alone.
"I'm sorry, Downstar," Gentlestar gulped, placing a paw on Downstar's platform above her.
"We ask that you respect our privacy surrounding this event," Downstar continued, "and know that Trumpetspore did her best against what can be the worst enemy a warrior fights; their own heart." Mutters of agreement washed over Weevilsight. She prayed no one would pry her for information. "Outside of this loss, we have no Gathering-worthy news to report. I say we get on with the Gathering proper and try to enjoy ourselves tonight." The other leaders nodded along with Downstar's idea. With that, the Clans merged. A wave of friends from other Clans crashed into RippleClan, firing questions of concern and morbid curiosity. Weevilsight wasn't ready; Yellowburst bumped into her flank, knocking her into a WheatClan historian. Weevilsight stumbled back, one of her signature petals fluttering out of her pelt.
"Terracottafoot is over there!" Paleseed called, peering over the crowd. "This way!" Darkkick looped her tail around Weevilsight and gently nudged her toward Paleseed. Paleseed pierced the crowd, leaving a trail for Weevilsight and Darkkick to follow. Questions bounced off Paleseed's pelt. She deflected them with the skill of an expert mediator, offering polite, if not slightly dismissive, answers.
Terracottafoot, as was their habit, prepared a game of moss-ball to the side of the crowd. They set up small "dens", or overturned baskets, on either end of the massive play area and merged loose chunks of moss together. They scented the three RippleClan cats and turned to greet them. Weevilsight tried to imagine what Terracottafoot looked like as a "tiny scared apprentice". Sure, the AshClan cleric carried themself with a constant air of tension; they were always moving, whether through the twitch of their whiskers or the methodical wave of their tail. But they were mature, as well-muscled as a warrior and, much to Weevilsight's embarassment, as handsome as they came (oh how Honeybuzz teased her as an apprentice for that little crush).
"Hi, Paleseed," Terracottafoot chirped, touching noses with Paleseed. "StarClan, I'm happy to see you. I've wanted to say something about your sisters, but I didn't know what."
"I try to focus on the siblings I still have," Paleseed chuckled, licking her chest.
"Keeping out of trouble?" Darkkick hummed, staring Terracottafoot up and down.
"I do what I can," Terracottafoot said. They touched noses with the former AshClan cleric and turned to Weevilsight. "Cleric Weevilsight, you didn't tell me about Warrior Trumpetspore at the half-moon meeting. Is that why Cleric Troutpool was so upset?"
"We didn't want to make the meeting all about us," Weevilsight sighed. Her paw absently snagged Terracottafoot's moss-ball and rolled it under her paw.
"I'm sorry about that, regardless," Terracottafoot said. They glanced past the RippleClan cats and groaned, "Oh StarClan he's already telling Downstar." Weevilsight looked back. Eelstar spoke with Downstar on the Leader's Stone. Both seemed deeply serious.
"Telling her what?" Darkkick huffed.
"I'm not a storyteller," Terracottafoot gulped, "but there were these Witch Hunters at our border and they told us… uh… do you want their story or the summary?"
"Tell us what they told you," Paleseed suggested.
"Well," Terracottafoot groaned. They stared at Darkkick, gaze pointedly refusing to touch Weevilsight. "Apparently Lemmy showed up in the human settlement last moon. One of the Witch Hunters picked a fight with her, and, well, that Witch Hunter ended up dead. The Witch Hunters were really mad at that, I think the dead Witch Hunter just had kits and the humans took them away? I can't remember that part. But, um, the Witch Hunter General ordered them to find Lemmy, and they did… Lemmy's dead now." The words didn't quite reach Weevilsight's ears.
"Say that again?" Weevilsight said, rubbing her ears.
"The Witch Hunters killed Lemmy," Terracottafoot said. "I think their patrol thought we were RippleClan? We didn't get a chance to explain. They showed up a few days ago. I'm really sorry, Weevilsight." Weevilsight's claws pierced the moss-ball. The chatter of the Gathering clawed her ears. Her heart beat faster.
"Weevilsight?" Paleseed whispered. She reached a paw toward Weevilsight, but Darkkick pushed it down.
Lemmy's dead. Lemmy's dead. Lemmy's dead.
Mom's dead.
"Stars damn it!" Weevilsight yowled. She chucked the moss-ball as hard and as fast as she could. It smacked into the basket and sent it rolling toward the treeline. "I want to kill someone!"
"Weevilsight—" Paleseed and Terracottafoot both stammered.
"Shut up, both of you," Darkkick snapped, shoving her tail in front of the pair. "Let her be."
"She made mistakes!" Weevilsight groaned. "Stupid, awful mistakes, it got out of control!" She paced in a circle, as though trying to get comfortable in a nest. "She wasn't a monster! She wanted to keep me safe! They didn't have to kill her! StarClan, she never even knew Dad died! Why did this happen? Why did she have to kill Potterypool? I can't even decide if I love her or hate her! Augh!" Weevilsight sat in a huff, tail thrashing. She stared at the snowy ground, head spinning. Her jaw dug into her head so hard, she thought she'd break a tooth.
Paleseed crept past Darkkick and toward the rolling basket. She put a paw on the basket, stopping its retreat. She plucked the moss-ball from inside and stared at it. Her tail waved gently as she thought.
"Terracottafoot?" Paleseed asked. "Do you have any AshClan cats who'd like to play against RippleClan in a game of moss-ball?"
"I can ask around," Terracottafoot said hesistantly, still inching toward Weevilsight. "Shouldn't we help—"
"I don't need help, Terracottafoot," Weevilsight huffed at the ground, voice monotone.
"I seem to recall you being good with a moss-ball as a kit," Paleseed said. She tossed the moss-ball to Weevilsight. It rolled to a stop in front of her paws. "Want to put that rage of yours to good use? It would be an insult to Clan pride if we let AshClan beat us."
"Go get your Clan, kit," Darkkick scoffed. Terracottafoot cocked their head, but eventually sighed, chuckling at the same time. They jogged toward the larger crowd.
"For our players, I think we should recruit…" Paleseed hummed, studying the Gathering. "Boughfur, Stormjump, Yellowburst, Shrewflame, and Wolverineheart." Darkkick nodded along with Paleseed's assessment. "So, Weevilsight? Want to join?" Weevilsight gently snagged the moss-ball in her claws. She held it up to the light of the bonfire by the Leader's Stone. Did the color match Mosspounce's eyes? They had been so scarred at the end, Weevilsight almost couldn't remember…
"Let's kill these foxhearts," Weevilsight growled, tossing the moss-ball back to Paleseed.
"Metaphorically, though!" Paleseed chuckled awkwardly. "I'll go get the others." Paleseed passed the moss-ball to Darkkick and followed Terracottafoot's trail. Weevilsight sat next to Darkkick, unable to stop her thrashing tail.
"I'll help you hide the bodies," Darkkick chuckled.
A short time later, Weevilsight stood with her Clanmates in front of one of the baskets. Somehow, it seemed the whole group managed to escape the fog of grief imposed by Trumpetspore's death and laughed like kits as they prepared for the game. A gaggle of AshClan cats guarded the other basket across the clearing, throwing taunts toward the RippleClan cats. Paleseed and Terracottafoot stood in the middle, moss-ball sitting between them. A crowd of apprentices and warriors from the other Clans gathered to watch as they shared tongues.
"If it's been a while since any of you have played an organized game of moss-ball," Paleseed explained, "let us remind you. You are each on a patrol of seven cats, facing off against another patrol. Your job is to get the moss-ball past the enemy patrol and into their den, in this case the basket, to score points. No holding the moss-ball in your mouth, you have to catch it in your claws and toss it to your patrol members. If the other patrol has the moss-ball, you need to either make them drop it or grab it out of their paws, again, no teeth allowed. And no den guarding, you have to give the other patrol a chance to throw the moss-ball in. For this game, let's say… first to fifteen points wins. Any questions?"
"Do we have to be gentle with the cleric?" a dark red molly asked, nodding at Weevilsight.
"I won't be gentle with you," Weevilsight growled, ears tilted back. An excited bark of laughter and cheering rippled through the bystanders. The AshClan patrol laughed and yowled along with them.
"What about Darkkick?" asked a black and white tom, barely out of apprenticeship. "I feel bad fighting an elder."
"Darkkick fought Autumnstar, in the actual Dark Forest," Boughfur laughed, unweaving the blue flowers from her fur and placing them to the side of the game area. "I don't think you should be worried about hurting her, of all cats."
"Ready to run back to camp with your tails between your legs?" Shrewflame called, his tail high.
"I'm ready to feed you dirt, pretty kitty!" yowled the dark red molly.
"Aww, you think I'm pretty?" Shrewflame purred, wiggling his flank. "Why thank you!" Stormjump and Yellowburst laughed at Shrewflame, starting a wave of giggles across the crowd.
"Everyone go at my command!" Terracottafoot yowled, jogging out of the soon-to-be battlefield with Paleseed, leaving the moss-ball behind. All players shifted into battle poses. Weevilsight copied them as best she could. All eyes were on the moss-ball.
"Darkkick, stay in the back," Yellowburst whispered. "You can catch the moss-ball before it gets to the den."
"And miss out on clawing some AshClan fur?" Darkkick snapped in just such a way that Weevilsight couldn't tell if she was mad or teasing. "There's no chance of that."
As the pair argued, the AshClan patrol sparkled in Weevilsight's eyes. Ghostly doubles of the AshClan warriors launched toward the moss-ball. Sparkling premonitions of Weevilsight's Clanmates charged at the approaching patrol in return. Wolverineheart's future transparent form shoved into the dark red molly's shoulder. Her attack gave the black and white tom just enough time to slip around the charging enemy force and snatch the moss-ball in his claws. Weevilsight hadn't even seen that tom in the mass of cats yet-to-charge.
"Attack!" Terracottafoot cheered. Weevilsight's vision popped like seafoam. History repeated itself; the AshClan patrol ran at the moss-ball like stampeding horses. Wolverineheart led the RippleClan charge. No one noticed the black and white tom, running low against his taller Clanmates. He was invisible in the rush of fire-lit pelts. An afterimage of the tom's future position still flashed in Weevilsight's eyes.
Weevilsight lunged toward the empty space. Just as she neared it, just as she began to doubt her sight, there he was; the black and white tom, swooping past Wolverineheart to grab the moss-ball. Weevilsight smacked into him a whisker's length from the moss-ball. Weevilsight and the black and white tom tumbled back into the mass of swarming cats, each shocked at the other's appearance.
Stormjump rolled behind Weevilsight and snatched the moss-ball. She flicked her paw and sent the moss-ball soaring across the clearing. Shrewflame darted alongside the flying object. He jumped as though catching a bird mid-flight. Both front paws wrapped around the moss-ball.
Another premonition flashed within the mass of playful warriors. Shrewflame's ghostly paw launched a purple transparent moss-ball toward the AshClan den. A lilac and cream tortoiseshell streaked past her Clanmates and caught the moss-ball against her shoulder.
"Run with it, Shrewflame!" Weevilsight yowled as the black and white tom finally shoved her off. She fell onto her back, staring at the cloud-speckled night while the rest of the group hurried past her. All of the petals that clung to her pelt rubbed off in the snow and grass.
Weevilsight hurried back to her paws, only to see she was too late; the lilac and cream tortoiseshell stopped the moss-ball with her shoulder, just as predicted. But would Weevilsight let that go? Absolutely not. She had to sit by while her mother was exiled, while her father died, while her Clan suffered not under the claws of some Spirit of Shadow, something Weevilsight was born to fight, but mortals and the dangers of the everyday. She didn't have to let this go.
Weevilsight was not going to lose this game.
Weevilsight scrambled as the AshClan tortoiseshell tossed the moss-ball to the dark red molly. Darkkick thundered past Weevilsight, catching the eye of the dark red molly. Weevilsight yowled and sprung at the dark red molly. Weevilsight's sheathed paws batted the dark red molly's head. The dark red molly swung at Weevilsight, but the moss-ball slipped from her claws in the process. Darkkick swiped it from underneath the fighting mollies and batted it back toward the AshClan den. The dark red molly turned to follow, but Weevilsight shrieked and dragged the AshClan molly back by the tail. Her mouth burned with the taste of cat fur, that awful scent of combat that she still despised after so many moons, but the thoughtless rage bubbling in her throat forced her to remind herself, training grip, training grip, training grip.
A cheer ripped through the bystanders. Weevilsight let go of the dark red molly's tail. Boughfur had jumped into the AshClan den, moss-ball stuck to her claws. She looked like a rabbit crawling into a hole. Weevilsight laughed, but it was more like the cauterwaul of a rabid beast than anything funny.
"Clerics are mad," the dark red molly grumbled, hurrying back to her Clanmates.
Mad? Oh that was the right word for Weevilsight at the moment, as her patrol cheerfully regrouped by their den for the next round. Weevilsight was certain the actual grief would hit her when she got back to camp. But in that moment, with the freedom to run and scream and tackle and fight? Weevilsight could be as mad as she needed to be.
(Weevilsight: 27, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
[Image ID: Midnightkit and Valleykit face Carnationspeckle, both in trouble. Midnightkit says "Why didn't Rattlepelt come get me?" Under Midnightkit, it says + NEW SKILL: ALWAYS WANDERING. Under Valleykit, it says + NEW SKILL: AVID PLAY-FIGHTER.]
SlugClan attacks RippleClan in hopes of recovering Icekit and Pearkit for their newest members, Nimblestep and Quickkit.
[Image ID: Lettucestar, a white tom with a scar, and Lighttrail face Downstar, Wolverineheart, Wildclaw, Yarrowclaw, and Leathermask. Lettucestar says, "I'm sorry, Downstar, but I can't take no for an answer. Nimblestep is their mother, not Puddlewhisper." Under Downstar, it says LIVES LEFT: 1. Under Leathermask, it says LEVEL UP! NERVOUS → CONFIDENT.[
---
Downstar could tell it would be a late spring as she stepped out of her den on the last day of the year and into the thick, dry snow. It had snowed from one sunset and through another without stopping, leaving snowdrifts as tall as cats against the rocks and trees. It wasn't a bitter cold, though, like the one that plagued the Clans a few moons prior. This was a cold that energized Downstar's aching muscles and told the whole Clan to have a bit of fun!
The kits were certainly taking advantage of the heavy snowfall. Pearkit and Icekit dug at the snow like dogs while Midnightkit and Valleykit watched, wide-eyed. Stormjump groomed herself outside the warrior's den in a pale attempt to hide her watchful eye resting on the kits. The clerics cleared snow out from around the medicine den, but there was a shine to their eyes that brought a purr to Downstar's throat. Gingerpaw rambled to Weevilsight as the pair dug a path from the medicine den to the bonfire. Weevilsight laughed at one of Gingerpaw's silly faces, further easing Downstar's heart. If the recent heartbreak of the season could be forgotten, even for a moment, there was hope for RippleClan.
There was no hope of telling the time that day, save for the natural rhythm of day and night inside every cat. The sky was an endless silver expanse. Not a single cloud could be distinguished from another. It was as gray as a clear day's sky was blue. The unbroken bright light reflected off the snow stunned Downstar's eyes. Were it not for her nose, she might have bumped into Oilstripe, who trotted toward the leader's den.
"Good morning, Downstar," Oilstripe reported, ears perking up in front of her leader. "We have a few patrols out already. Vervaincough and Darkkick joined Billowhaze, Whitepaw, and Boughfur on an expedition to study the snow, but they promised to mark the southern border while they were there. Carnationspeckle, Tallowheart, and Drumtooth are fishing along the northern coast. Lastly, Rabbitjoy took Mitespark and Frostpaw to trade with WheatClan. They'll be gone the longest."
"Busy morning," Downstar hummed.
"Everyone wants to be out of camp today," Oilstripe sighed, stretching her front legs.
"I can manage the camp if you want to lead a patrol," Downstar said. She flicked her ears toward the camp exit. "This will likely be our last bit of snow until next winter."
"That's alright, Downstar," Oilstripe said a bit too quickly. "We have a lot to clear out of camp. I should manage that." Downstar grabbed Oilstripe's gaze and didn't let go. She studied her deputy's cyan eyes, so strangely blessed. Oilstripe's whiskers twitched uncomfortably, unable to view Downstar's thoughts as easily as she viewed hers.
"It's no good to have a distracted deputy," Downstar said. She sat in the curve of the Shiprock where the snow was thinner. "You're lingering around camp for another reason. Deputies should be open with their leaders."
"I can't tell if you're teasing me or reprimanding me," Oilstripe sighed. She sat next to Downstar, her focus drifting past her leader. The only sign of Downstar's hesistancy was the shift of her tail; she knew when she chose Oilstripe that she'd have to tolerate her ghost sight and the weird, almost blaphemous intrusion into the privacy of the visiting dead. She was good at that by now, and with a hard blink to wipe her mind, Downstar focused back on Oilstripe.
"It's about Rattlepelt," Oilstripe groaned. "I don't want to leave her alone." Downstar eyed the nursery. The snow's reflected light easily showed Rattlepelt and Wildclaw inside the den, still asleep. Wildclaw snuggled deep into Rattlepelt's fox pelt, and Rattlepelt shifted closer to her mate.
"I hope you remember you aren't the only other member of RippleClan," Downstar gently reminded her deputy. "There's always someone in camp."
"I'm not doubting anyone," Oilstripe said. She flexed her paw, poking tiny holes in the snow. The gentle motion gave her time to find her courage. "I'm scared for her, Downstar."
"Do you think she could harm herself?" Downstar asked. She regretted the question as soon as she said it. She never would have thought something like that a moon ago. But then again, a moon ago Downstar still had her granddaughter. Oilstripe caught her breath.
"No," she huffed. "No… but then again, I didn't think Trumpetspore could, either. I don't think I can truly judge what's in someone's heart."
"Blame is a weight I've borne for far too many circumstances outside of my control. Don't let it crush you."
"But don't I deserve some of the blame? We're leading this Clan, Downstar. When someone dies like this, what does it say about us? And what about Lemmy? Could we have stopped her?"
"You're rambling, Oilstripe." Downstar raised her tail to pause her deputy's spiraling thoughts. "I'm going to tell you something that it took me a long time to learn. If you did the best you could with what you knew, then blaming yourself is useless." Oilstripe breathed deep, nodding along with Downstar's advice.
"I'll try to remember that," Oilstripe sighed.
"So," Downstar huffed, getting up, "do you think Rattlepelt needs an extra eye on her?"
"I think she's struggling," Oilstripe said, picking her words carefully. "It's like what happened after the Shardling incident. I don't want this to hurt Rattlepelt's relationship with Wildclaw or their kits. Rattlepelt didn't even leave the nursery to check on Midnightkit yesterday." Yes, Downstar had noted that; out of the two mothers, Wildclaw was usually the one with an eye on Midnightkit and Valleykit as of late, and when she went on patrol, Midnightkit tried to follow. It hadn't been Downstar's place to comment on Rattlepelt's absence, but everyone noticed it.
"As the mother of your daughter-in-code rather than your leader," Downstar sighed, "don't worry about how Wildclaw feels. I'll take her out. Try not to worry. We'll help Rattlepelt as best we can." Downstar touched her nose to Oilstripe's head. Oilstripe gawked at the touch for a moment, eyes widening. She then purred and dipped her head. Her whole body softened. Downstar's work there was done; now onto her daughter.
Downstar left Oilstripe to her thoughts and entered the nursery. Her paws trapsing through the snow quickly woke Wildclaw. The scarred gray tabby lifted her head off her mate and yawned deeply. Her scar-lined tail swayed lazily.
"Wildclaw, I'm taking a sunrise patrol to mark our northwest borders," Downstar explained in a whisper. "I want you to come with. I'll even let you pick out who we bring."
"I'll be right there," Wildclaw grumbled, still yawning and blinking sleep from her eyes. She crawled over Rattlepelt, stretching her hind legs so high they nearly eclipsed her head. Rattlepelt shifted and threw a paw over her eyes. Wildclaw glanced back to her mate and whispered, "Rattlepelt, I'm going on patrol. The kits are playing outside. Do you need anything?"
"I can get it," Rattlepelt mumbled. She squirmed under her red pelt, but didn't get up. Downstar softly padded back out as Wildclaw whispered something else her aging ears could not catch.
Downstar trailed through camp, navigating around the kits' digging, and waited by the exit for her daughter. A few moments later, Wildclaw emerged from the nursery and jogged to the warrior's den, nodding to Stormjump as she passed. She seemed like the reckless young molly Downstar remembered from so many years ago, but there was a wisdom to her step and a thought in her eyes. Yes, Downstar did not need to worry about Wildclaw. The fierceness her named honored was truly something to respect now.
Some time later, Wildclaw joined Downstar at the exit with Wolverineheart, Yarrowclaw, and Leathermask. Downstar wasted no time leading the patrol into the cheerful winter. Wildclaw slipped beside her mother and pranced through the snow like a deer. Soft winds blew powdery snow off the trees, making it look like a second snowfall. The snow retained the memory of the wind in its swirling, smooth edges and gentle dance across the ground. The smell of Carnationspeckle's patrol drifted past, a soft reminder that they were never alone in RippleClan territory.
"You know who Midnightkit and Valleykit remind me of?" Downstar said as the patrol trekked through the forest. "You and Halibutdusk."
"Really?" Wildclaw huffed. "I don't see it."
"Midnightkit is going to be just as troublesome as you were, I'm certain of it," Downstar chuckled. "Valleykit has Halibutdusk's pensiveness."
"Valleykit just learned what birds are," Wildclaw laughed. "I think you might be insulting Halibutdusk there."
"They fit into our family, that's what I mean," Downstar hummed, studying Wildclaw's face. "You and Rattlepelt have done a good job so far. Just like you did with Shrewflame and Whitepaw. You'll all be alright in the end."
"I know, Mom," Wildclaw assured her. Her ears tilted back for a moment as she added, "I just need Rattlepelt to believe that."
"You've been through worse," Downstar reminded her. She stopped to rub an irritating itch on her back against a pine. "If you keep doing what you have been doing, it will work out."
"Downstar!" The whole patrol paused, ears high. Pale gray markings framed the green eyes of the tom who emerged from the depths of the forest. Lettucestar? His deputy, Lighttrail, walked alongside him, all thick ginger fur and confidence.
"Stop right there!" Wildclaw barked. She dove between Downstar and Lettucestar, lips curled tight and her body slithering like a rattlesnake ready to strike.
"This has to be a joke," Wolverineheart scoffed. "I get you're a Clan leader, but you can't just stroll into our territory without an escort!"
"Do you want to get attacked?" Yarrowclaw growled, showing off her fangs.
"Wait, wait," Downstar huffed. She pushed through her protective Clanmates, tail high to still their sudden fury. "Let me talk to him." Leathermask bristled, back arched high as Downstar approached the SlugClan leader. Wolverineheart and Yarrowclaw kept their claws out, but gave Downstar her room. Wildclaw stayed where she was, face curling in and out of battle rage.
"I know I'm intruding on your territory," Lettucestar huffed, keeping his tail low as a show of peace. "Waiting by the border would have been inappropriate. In a sad way, my purpose here isn't much different from the war patrol you brought to my camp almost a year ago." There was a mild venom in Lettucestar's voice that made Downstar's ears grow hot with old grief.
"Except Downstar's not losing her mind," Yarrowclaw grumbled.
"Yarrowclaw, you will not disrespect Gorgestar's memory in front of me," Downstar suddenly growled, turning on the brown and white molly. Yarrowclaw stiffened under Downstar's amber glare. "He was a good leader and my friend. You of all cats should know better than to make a joke of something like that." Yarrowclaw stared down, unmoving under Downstar's assault. Downstar bit back a hiss of frusteration; why in the world did Yarrowclaw have to make a comment like that? Now Downstar seemed like a weak leader! She would handle Yarrowclaw's coldness later; she had intruders to manage.
"It's once again an issue of miscommunication," Lettucestar sighed. "Lighttrail, you're the better storyteller of the two of us. Explain the situation to Downstar and her warriors." Lighttrail stepped forward, clearing his throat. He looked like a kit in Downstar's eyes. Then again, at Downstar's age, most cats looked like kits.
"Recently, SlugClan encounter a loner queen and her kit by the river," Lighttrail said. "The kit was sick with feather-head, so we offered to provide treatment. The queen grew to trust us, and the pair decided to join SlugClan. They are now known as Nimblestep and Quickkit, though you would have known the queen as simply Nimble." Nimble. So much had happened that winter, Downstar almost forgot that Puddlewhisper was not Pearkit and Icekit's birth mother.
"Wait," Leathermask grunted. "Nimble joined SlugClan? No, she hates the Clans."
"Her mate hated the Clans," Lighttrail said with the patience of a mentor with their apprentice. Downstar couldn't stop her jaw from tightening at the tone. "Nimblestep supported and followed Achilles, but once she understood we only wanted to help Quickkit, she learned to trust us."
"It's not like we didn't try to do that!" Wolverineheart whined. "She wouldn't listen to us!"
"Your Clanmates murdered Achilles in cold blood," Lighttrail scoffed, twitching his whiskers. "Would you listen to yourselves?"
"No more comments, all of you," Downstar hissed, thrashing her tail. This was no time to be debating the details.
"She told us about her other kits, Downstar," Lettucestar finally sighed. "A silver tom and a pale ginger molly. They're Icekit and Pearkit, aren't they?" Wildclaw paced behind Downstar. Her jaw twitched with unspoken words. Her paws crunched heavily into the snow, turning it to slush.
"They are," Downstar admitted. "Nimble ran—Nimblestep ran from our patrol, but only took a brown kit. Quickkit, I assume. She abandoned the rest of her litter."
"A mistake she wants to correct," Lettucestar said, stepping closer to Downstar. "We're here to take Icekit and Pearkit back to their mother."
"Take?" Downstar and Wildclaw yowled in unison. Lighttrail unseathed his claws and crouched into a battle stance. Lettucestar hovered his tail over his deputy's shoulder. Downstar steadied her breath and grounded her paws flat, letting the cold sap her sudden anger.
"Lettucestar, Icekit and Pearkit are RippleClan cats now," Downstar said slowly. "All they've known is RippleClan. Puddlewhisper is raising them. Taking them would be cruel. Nimblestep abandoned them to what she thought would be their deaths. How can we trust she has their best intentions at heart?"
"She's a SlugClan warrior now," Lettucestar said, his words just as slow and restrained as Downstar's tone. "We will help her raise the kits, just as I'm sure your caretakers help Puddlewhisper."
"I'm happy to discuss Nimblestep visiting our camp," Downstar huffed. "If she wants a relationship with Icekit and Pearkit, I don't want to deny her that. But simply taking them? They aren't prey. Do you think they'd ever be loyal to SlugClan if you forced them from their home?" Lettucestar sighed deeply. He closed his eyes and pulled his tail away from Lighttrail. His claws peeked out of his paws. The RippleClan patrol slunk closer to Downstar.
"Warriors!" Lettucestar yowled. The snow behind Lettucestar shifted. Pelts peeked out from the white and gray terrain, shoving off snowy coverings and emerging from behind trees and rocks. The RippleClan patrol hissed and snarled. There was an entire war patrol of SlugClan cats, hiding just fox-lengths away! The SlugClan warriors glistened with snow melting into their fur. Narrow eyes bore into Downstar, ready to tear and bite.
"I'm sorry, Downstar," Lettucestar sighed, shifting into a battle stance, "but I can't take no for an answer. Nimblestep is their mother, not Puddlewhisper. You can't claim her kits. I wanted us to agree on this, but if you won't take us to your camp, we'll just go through you."
"Yarrowclaw, warn camp, now!" Downstar yowled. Yarrowclaw leaped over Leathermask and skidded across the snow. She raced like a rabbit along the patrol's snowy prints, tail weaving between the trees.
"Don't let her get reinforcements!" Lettucestar ordered. Half of the SlugClan patrol bolted after Yarrowclaw, stomping and kicking their way through the snow. Leathermask yowled and launched himself into a lilac tortie, the war-hungry Carvingfur. The pair rolled back behind an ancient pine.
"Wolverineheart, help Yarrowclaw!" Downstar ordered as Lighttrail lunged for her. "We'll hold them back!" Wolverineheart ran after Yarrowclaw's hunters as Lighttrail smacked Downstar into the snow. Downstar raked her claws along Lighttrail's white chest. Blood immediately dripped from his pelt onto Downstar's face.
Lighttrail stumbled off, shrieking, as the rest of the patrol converged on Downstar and Wildclaw. There were three or four SlugClan warriors for each remaining RippleClan cat. At least Lighttrail wouldn't be a problem; he stumbled against a pine trunk and pressed his bleeding wounds into the snow.
"I'd like to see you take me, foxhearts!" Wildclaw cried. She hooked her claws into Carvingfur as she and Leathermask rolled back into the crowd. Wildclaw ripped Carvingfur off Leathermask and dug her teeth into the tortoiseshell's soft ear.
Sharp claws slashed Downstar's ankle. She tumbled forward into a black molly. A cream-colored tom pounced on Downstar's back. His claws tore into her ginger patches. Blinding pain ripped through Downstar's blood.
Lettucestar crouched by Lighttrail as the SlugClan warriors beat Downstar into the ground. The leader and deputy whispered to one another, mute under the screech of battle. With a decisive nod from Lighttrail, Lettucestar hurried past the fight toward the unseen coastline and RippleClan's camp.
Leathermask and Wildclaw fought back to back against Carvingfur and the other SlugClan warriors. They spun to face every blow. Nicks and scratches riddled their faces. Neither could get to Downstar.
The black molly and the cream-colored tom stepped off Downstar, blood staining their paws. Downstar's ears rang. She stared into the now pink snow. Her legs shook. The pain coursed through her back and toward her paws. Downstar couldn't get up. She couldn't help her daughter. Yarrowclaw and Wolverineheart had to get to camp. They had to protect the kits. That was what mattered.
A brown and white mass of long fur flew past Downstar's blurry vision. The figure landed on Carvingfur just before the tortoiseshell could claw at Leathermask's eyes. Carnationspeckle! Her hunting patrol! Drumtooth and Tallowheart dove into the fight behind their patrol leader. Tallowheart pulled Wildclaw and Leathermask out of the mess. Drumtooth whipped around the SlugClan warriors like a fish. He'd land one blow, then kick back at a sneaky warrior.
"They're going for camp," Wildclaw yowled over the ringing in Downstar's ears.
"Yarrowclaw got there first," Tallowheart gulped. The fighting in front of Downstar blurred. Downstar rested her chin on the cold, stained snow.
"Mom!"
It took a while for Downstar to die. From what she could tell, she drifted in a melting mass of dreams and noise until her strength finally left her. She couldn't tell how much time had passed, and could barely hold on to a single thought. The sounds of the battle rose and fell. They blended into orders and questions, making the line between war and peace impossible to see. Were the clerics there? They should focus on the camp. SlugClan would not have those kits!
Summer warmth licked Downstar's pelt. That oh-so-familiar ocean hum replaced the ringing in her ears. Her back no longer burned. Downstar rubbed her cheek on the sand. Oh Downstar had missed the summer. RippleClan needed that light and warmth once more.
StarClan's coastline was the same as ever; mountains far behind the forest, pure salty water nuzzling the shore. Sunhigh glistened at the top of the sky, honey-bright and as welcome as a warm nest at the end of a cold night. Now Downstar didn't want to get up at all. For now, she could breathe.
Yet who would greet her this time? She was never alone on that lovely beach. Locustseeker, Duskkit, Fennelspot, Rustshade, Scrubmask… someone always had a kind word to say. Who would be there this time? Maybe Downstar had to go find them.
Despite the tempting warmth of the sand, Downstar got to her paws. She stood quicker than she expected. Old age didn't plague her in the strange land of Silverpelt. Downstar scanned the shore. Down the coast, paws dipping into the slowly rising tide, a black tabby sat, waiting. Downstar's granddaughter was unmistakeable, even with the newly gained glimmer in her pelt.
"I shouldn't be surprised it's you," Downstar called. Trumpetspore turned at her grandmother's voice. Her ears pressed backward. She snapped her eyes down.
Downstar strolled down the beach. Her heartbeat matched the gentle pull of the waves. She slowed the closer she got to Trumpetspore. Trumpetspore's head dipped lower and lower.
"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I'm sorry, Downstar. I should have talked to you. I missed them so much, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt anyone."
"Oh, Trumpet," Downstar cooed. She placed her chin on Trumpetspore's warm head. She wrapped herself around Trumpetspore as the ageless black warrior shook. The hum of the ethereal ocean hid Trumpetspore's whimpers.
"I should have hung on," Trumpetspore whined.
"I know, I know," Downstar whispered. "It'll be alright now. I know, you're sorry."
Downstar wasn't sure how long she sat with her granddaughter. Those visits to StarClan rarely aligned with time in the living world, after all. Downstar just let the salt water soak her flank as she offered Trumpetspore a familiar shoulder.
"There are things I need to say," Trumpetspore eventually croaked, "before you go back." The pair pulled away, leaving imprints of each other in their pelts.
"I understand," Downstar sighed. "Tell me first, though. Did Lettucestar take the kits?"
"No," Trumpetspore said, clearing her throat. There was a shift in her starry eyes, a soft dance of light cascading across her glittering pelt. Her gaze drifted to something Downstar could not see. "Puddlewhisper hid them in the medicine den when Yarrowclaw got to camp. She pretended they were in the nursery until Lettucestar's patrol had to retreat."
"As clever as her mother," Downstar purred. Good, the kits were safe. For now, at least.
"Happier moons are ahead," Trumpetspore promised as her focus returned to Downstar. She stiffened and glanced down as she added, "If I had known that earlier…" Downstar had no comforting words for that. Trumpetspore breathed deep and stood taller.
"You're on your last life, Downstar," Trumpetspore said. Her voice gained the sort of regal, knowing tone Downstar had grown used to hearing from StarClan cats. "The next time you wake up on these shores, you will not return to RippleClan."
"I understand," Downstar said. She could feel her body pulling her down. The weight of her many moons flowed back through her muscles. She laid on the sand, which now felt more like moss and leather. Downstar's body was likely in the medicine den. "One thing before I wake up. Can you pass a message to Shadowdrop and your siblings?"
"Anything," Trumpetspore gulped. Downstar purred at the light in Trumpetspore's eyes.
"Tell them I love them."
(Downstar: 151, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)
Elmsprout and Lavendertwist welcome two kits into the world.
[Image ID: Elmsprout and Lavendertwist face two newborn kits; a ginger and white kit, and a pale silver kit with a few white markings. Under Elmsprout, it says - CONDITION: PREGNANT, + CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH. Under the ginger kit, it says NEW PLAYER: GINGERKIT, 0, MALE, CHARMING. Under the silver kit, it says NEW PLAYER: FROSTKIT, 0, FEMALE, QUIET.]
(Lavendertwist: 50, male, historian, playful, great singer, good storyteller)
(Gingerkit: 0, male, kit, charming)
(Frostkit: 0, female, kit, quiet)
Currentsmoke expresses his concern about Yarrowclaw's recent behavior.
[Image ID: Mosspounce, Wolfgaze, Sandhollow, Weevilsight, and Anchovystrike run in a patrol, with Mosspounce calling "Yarrowclaw, get off the horse-path." Under Weevilsight, it says - INFECTION.]
---
Anchovystrike couldn't really share tongues with his brother, not like he wished he could. After all, Currentsmoke couldn't groom him back. It didn't help that the thick wound across Currentsmoke's face was still infected, covered in oozing concoctions. Weevilsight said the infections came and went, but to Anchovystrike, it all seemed like one big, continous disease. Yet that didn't matter. Injured or not, Currentsmoke was going to enjoy the anniversary celebration with the rest of RippleClan, basking in the sunhigh glow.
Most of the Clan was busy around Elmsprout and Lavendertwist. They had just given their litter of two, Frostkit and Gingerkit, their names, and everyone wanted to show the two tiny kittens what the warm sand and cool sea felt like. Meanwhile, the artisans and caretakers used some of RippleClan's precious salt to season enough prey for everyone. Anchovystrike and Weevilsight shared a woodpecker while Weevilsight helped Currentsmoke drink some salty, herb-soaked broth. The three cats basked in the summer sunshine, content with their meals.
"You know, Currentsmoke," Weevilsight sighed, nestling into the sand, "if you end up with a big scar from this, you won't be alone. Most of my tail has healed, but fighting that infection left a lot of the skin raw." Weevilsight showed off her tail, which no longer sported any bandages, as it had over the last few moons. Yet the skin was still pink and raw, irritated from exposure to other cats' diseases. The scarring ran across her ginger and black fur like new tortoiseshell markings. Had Weevilsight been a warrior, it would have been a mark of beauty.
"I duhn't care ah-out scars," Currentsmoke grumbled. "I just 'anna li'eh."
"You're not dying on us," Anchovystrike huffed, shoving Currentsmoke's shoulder. "You've got four clerics looking after you, and you've got me, Billowhaze, and Yarrowclaw keeping you busy. You're the best of us, Current. You're not going anywhere anytime soon." Currentsmoke purred and gently bunted heads with his brother, making sure not to touch his wounds. The supernatural glimmer in Weevilsight's pelt glowed brighter at the sight, and Anchovystrike purred just a bit harder. Yet as Anchovystrike dug into his share of the woodpecker, Currentsmoke tensed. Anchovystrike could feel Currentsmoke's tired muscles harden as he rested against him.
"More pain, Currentsmoke?" Weevilsight asked. She sniffed at Currentsmoke's jaw.
"Nuh," Currentsmoke mumbled. He scanned the happy crowd trapsing through the sand and salt water. Anchovystrike followed his gaze, unsure what he was looking for. "Souh'ing's wruhng 'ith Yarr'acla'ah."
"Yarrowclaw?" Anchovystrike clarified.
"She has been a little strange the last few moons," Weevilsight admitted. "Did you hear about her hunting patrol last moon?"
"She's been overworking herself, I know," Anchovystrike huffed. "But she realizes it eventually. She just gets into these moods lately."
"It's muhre than that," Currentsmoke insisted. The injured tom groaned and slowly pushed himself to his paws. His legs shook, his body's battle with his injuries draining too much strength from him to stay up for long. "She's nuh't here. Souh'ing's wruhng." Weevilsight pushed against Currentsmoke, making sure he didn't collapse. Currentsmoke tried to shake Weevilsight off, but hissed as the bandages restraining his jaw rubbed the wrong way.
Anchovystrike gave the anniversary celebration another look over. Was Yarrowclaw with Billowhaze? No, Billowhaze was joking with Wolfgaze and Ravenweaver over their own share of salty meat. Maybe she was spending time with her former mentor. No, that wasn't right either, Rapidleaf was talking through something with Estherfern, probably bonding over recent messages from StarClan or something of the sort. Yarrowclaw was close with Estherfern's litter, she was probably splashing through the water with them! And yet, no. Brightreed, Wolverineheart, Boughfur, and Thundergale were each busy with their own fun. Currentsmoke was right. Yarrowclaw wasn't at the anniversary celebration.
"Why do you think something is wrong?" Weevilsight asked, easing Currentsmoke back down.
"I heard her," Currentsmoke groaned. "She f'isited 'e. She didn't 'ake sense. She said she was going to cah'lete a rituh'al to cuh're 'e."
"To cure you?" Weevilsight muttered. "But we've said all the prayers we can think of. Estherfern even helped Honeybuzz commune with the Celestial of Broken Bones herself for extra advice and blessings. What could Yarrowclaw do?"
"She's in dang'ah!" Currentsmoke snapped. He tried to stand again, but his rising nerves worked in tamdem with his weakness and send him back into the sand.
"Rabbitjoy mentioned something about a ritual last moon," Anchovystrike realized. "That was why Yarrowclaw caught all that prey." Anchovystrike stood, shaking sand out of his fur. "You're right, Currentsmoke. I don't like this. I… I think I misunderstood what Yarrowclaw's been going through. We need to find her."
"I'm with you, Anchovy," Weevilsight promised, stretching. "I'm going to fetch Honeybuzz so he can look after Currentsmoke. Think you can put together a patrol?"
"Easily," Anchovystrike purred, nodding. He rubbed against Currentsmoke and said, "Don't worry, Current. We'll make sure Yarrowclaw is alright." Weevilsight and Anchovystrike crossed by each other, each focused on their goals. Anchovystrike wormed around his Clanmates, focused on Billowhaze, Wolfgaze, and Ravenweaver.
"Wolfgaze," Anchovystrike called as his friends and brother tried to fight off their giggles. "Can you join me for a bit? I need your help with something."
"What do you have to do that can't wait until after our celebration?" Ravenweaver asked, coughing to clear her laughter.
"Just…" Anchovystrike gulped, glancing at Billowhaze. "Call it a favor for a friend."
"You know I'd be happy to help," Wolfgaze said, getting to her paws. "Enjoy the rest of the meal for me, Billowhaze!"
"With pleasure," Billowhaze hummed, taking a huge bite out of the salted squirrel. Wolfgaze tucked her head and followed Anchovystrike.
"So you know," Anchovystrike chuckled, "we're going to talk about your interest in my brother later." Wolfgaze groaned softly, batting at her own red ears. "Right now though, I'm more interested in my sister. Can you go grab your dad and join me? I think Mosspounce could help a lot."
"Is something wrong with Yarrowclaw?" Wolfgaze asked, romantic embarassment fading.
"Just get your dad," Anchovystrike asked. Wolfgaze nodded and surged into the partying cats, calling for Mosspounce. Anchovystrike, meanwhile, headed for Sandhollow. The cream-tinted tom splashed through the water with Slushtrail and Tallowheart, the three of them squealing like kits. If Currentsmoke hadn't sounded so serious, Anchovystrike would have joined them in their fun.
"Sandhollow," Anchovystrike called. Sandhollow paused n his frolicking, just as Tallowheart's tail sent a wave of salt water into his face. Slushtrail and Tallowheart laughed as Sandhollow rubbed his eyes, trying to get the salt out.
"You two are so ridiculous," Sandhollow chuckled, stumbling out of the water. He shook out his pelt, spraying Anchovystrike. His fur stuck out like thorns. "Hi, Anchovystrike."
"Sandhollow, you've grown close to my sister since you graduated, haven't you?" Anchovystrike asked. "I've seen you spend time with her." Sandhollow's face darkened.
"Something's happened to her, hasn't it?" Sandhollow said.
"I don't know," Anchovystrike admitted as Slushtrail and Tallowheart waded onto the beach, the fun of the moment dead. "I want to make sure nothing does. We need to find her. Can you come with me?"
"Of course," Sandhollow huffed, giving himself a few quick licks to smooth his pelt.
"I should come too," Slushtrail said, sliding up to her fellow mediator.
"I think our little patrol is getting crowded, Slushtrail," Anchovystrike chuckled awkwardly.
"I can handle it, Slush," Sandhollow promised, side-eyeing Slushtrail.
"Is Yarrowclaw in danger or something?" Tallowheart asked.
"Or something, Tallowheart!" Anchovystrike snapped, making the young historian jump. "We just need to go, alright?" Tallowheart stepped back, nodding quickly and avoiding eye contact. Anchovystrike sighed, taking a deep breath. He would have time to apologize later. "Over here, Sandhollow." Sandhollow was at Anchovystrike's side with just a flick of the latter's tail. Slushtrail and Tallowheart watched on as the two toms jogged over to Weevilsight, Wolfgaze, and Mosspounce.
"What exactly is the problem here?" Mosspounce huffed as Anchovystrike and Sandhollow joined the patrol.
"We don't know all the details," Weevilsight sighed, her focused, glowing gaze resting on each Clanmate. "I think we've all noticed Yarrowclaw has had… a lot of busy days, lately. We're worried it's more than that. Currentsmoke thinks she's in danger, and I'm inclined to believe him."
"I'm not trying to undermine your worry, really," Mosspounce said, awkwardness twitching through his whiskers, "but as the oldest cat here, and I really hate that that's true, I should point out the obvious. Yarrowclaw's an adult. She's allowed to leave the party. Are you sure we need to track her down?"
"Currentsmoke knows cats," Anchovystrike huffed. "He's one of the most caring cats I know. He knows when something's wrong. He saw Yarrowclaw wasn't here and panicked. If he thinks we need to find her, we should find her."
"Wanted to make sure you were serious," Mosspounce assured him. "Now the other question… do we have any idea where she might be?"
"Let's check camp first," Wolfgaze suggested, jogging across the sand. "It might be that simple!" The patrol ran after Wolfgaze, sand sticking to their half-wet paws. They left behind the music and laughter of their Clan and ran toward their shipwreck home.
Carnationspeckle lounged at the entrance of camp, absent-minded in her guard duty, dozing off in the warm, almost blistering sun. She snapped to attention as the patrol hurried up to her, however.
"Are you all alright?" Carnationspeckle asked. "You look so serious. Did something happen?"
"We're alright, Carnationspeckle," Sandhollow promised, panting, "but is Yarrowclaw in camp? Did you see her?"
"She's not in camp," Carnationspeckle said, shaking her head, "but I did see her! She headed south a short time ago. Is she alright?"
"Keep your ears perked for us, would you Carnationspeckle?" Anchovystrike asked, paws carrying him to the shoreline. Weevilsight and Wolfgaze scrambled behind him.
"Anchovystrike, wait!" Carnationspeckle yowled, but Anchovystrike's focus was elsewhere.
Anchovystrike breathed deep as the lips of a heavy wave stretched to meet his paws. The salt stung his nose and blinded him to even the smell of Weevilsight beside him. Anchovystrike's chest tightened. Call it instinct, call it brotherly intuition, call it the power of the All-Seeing for all he cared, Anchovystrike's whole body screamed at him to find Yarrowclaw, right now.
"I smell her!" Wolfgaze cried, tail shooting up. She sniffed the sand, whiskers pooling Yarrowclaw's scent together and into a narrative in Wolfgaze's mind. The patrol gathered around her. The heat molded into Anchovystrike's anxiety, making his fur burn. "Carnationspeckle is right, she went south!"
"That's my kit," Mosspounce cheered, sniffing. "I got the scent too. We'll find her together. This way, you three!" Wolfgaze and Mosspounce ran along the sand and grass, hopping from scent bubble to scent bubble. Anchovystike, Weevilsight, and Sandhollow matched their pace.
Yarrowclaw's trail drifted from the cool shoreline into the speckled hills. There was no banter in this patrol, no breaks. Every cat stayed focused on the task ahead. They pushed through the mental haze of sunhigh and kept moving. They would find her. She hadn't gotten far. They just had to keep going. She'd be fine. She'd be fine.
"Anchovystrike." Sandhollow ran alongside Anchovystrike, who suddenly found his chest too tight and the air barely breaching his lungs. "Breathe. Don't pass out on us." Breathe. Yes, breathe. Anchovystrike forced the air into him like a drowning cat.
They heard Yarrowclaw before they saw her.
"I can hear them! I can hear the horses, Robin, thundering down and down and down the path, down the path to save him! Thundering hooves strike the ground, it's lightning, lightning in the sky, or is that my heart? Is my heart in their hooves? Smashed under their hooves? Robinkit, they're coming! They're coming! Strike me! Hit me! His pain to my pain, my pain to his, StarClan's will be done, but not with this, no no, not with Current! You can't take him, Robinkit! Not yet! And you're never taking me! Never!"
Yarrowclaw paced in the center of the horse-path. Her tail thrashed wildly, as though she was in the middle of a battle. She kicked up dust like a kit playing in the sand. She screeched down the path, good eye shifting in and out of focus. Anchovystrike could not hear any horses.
"Yarrowclaw, get off the horse-path," Mosspounce barked, charging toward the border. Anchovystrike, Weevilsight, Wolfgaze, and
"I'll be fine!" Yarrowclaw shrieked. Anchovystrike never heard such laughter in his sister's voice before. "It's for Current! It's for Current! It's my destiny, it's my purpose! They're almost here! Here, here, I hear them, they're deafening, they're here to hear me, they're here for me!" Yarrowclaw's laughter suffocated Anchovystrike. Yarrowclaw coughed, choking on her escasty. Her laughter dissolved into a death wail, the same frenzied expression stuck on her face. "Stop it! Stop the noise! Trample me already! Break it! Break my jaw! Don't take him! Don't take him!" Yarrowclaw stumbled, jaw smacking into the dry path.
"Freeze her!" Weevilsight wailed with a heartbreak Anchovystrike hadn't heard since that fateful day in the nursery. "Wolfgaze!"
At the same time, Yarrowclaw cried, pushing herself up, "I can't keep waiting! I have to take it from him!" Yarrowclaw wrenched her head back.
Suddenly, the world stood still. Yarrowclaw's guttural cries stopped with the blink of an eye. The wind stirred her dusty fur. Her sightless eye stared at Anchovystrike as the patrol finally reached the horse-path. Wolfgaze, too, was frozen, but her eyes, focused and terrified, stayed stuck on Yarrowclaw.
"Don't break my line of sight," Wolfgaze gulped as Anchovystrike and Sandhollow approached Yarrowclaw's supernaturally frozen form. "We've never moved someone when they're frozen, I don't know if we can."
"Just stop her," Weevilsight begged, hiding her face in her father's shoulder. "I hate this vision. Don't let it happen." Anchovystrike knew better than to pry into Weevilsight's darkest visions. He carefully walked behind Yarrowclaw and tucked himself under her head. With his head right up to Yarrowclaw's pelt, Anchovystrike could truly see Wolfgaze's power in action. There was a faint shimmering line surrounding Yarrowclaw's body. Anchovystrike could only see it if he focused, but the lines rippled like water and pressed against Yarrowclaw.
"We'll unfreeze her and get her off the horse-path," Sandhollow said, jaws close to Yarrowclaw's scruff. "Mosspounce, be ready to help us. I don't think she's going to go quietly." Wolfgaze swallowed hard.
As soon as Wolfgaze blinked, Yarrowclaw came to life. She swung her head down hard, but rather than hitting the hoof-hardened horse-path, her muzzle smacked into Anchovystrike's shoulder.
"No!" Yarrowclaw cried as Sandhollow grabbed her scruff. "No no no! He'll die! I'm the only one, I'm the only one that can save him, I'm the only one! I won't be hurt! I can't be hurt! No!" Sandhollow and Anchovystrike dragged Yarrowclaw off the horse-path. Yarrowclaw swung her claws at Anchovystrike's muzzle. She caught her brother's lip, sending a stream of blood trickling into Anchovystrike's mouth. Anchovystrike hissed and shoved Yarrowclaw onto the grass lining the horse-path. Mosspounce left his terrified daughter's side and stood on Yarrowclaw's shoulders. Anchovystrike stood on her flank.
"Yarrowclaw, can you hear me?" Sandhollow asked softly, crouching at the trapped molly's level. "Shh, you're safe, I promise."
"No, I have to go," Yarrowclaw cried, face as torn as the day she saw Robinkit and Harvest's bodies cooling in the nursery. "There's too much to do, I can't stay here, I have to go."
"There's nothing you need to do except breathe," Sandhollow assured her. "Weevilsight is going to find some herbs to calm your mind. It seems like there's a lot going on in there, am I right?"
"Currentsmoke's going to die unless I transfer his wounds to me," Yarrowclaw wailed. Her pinned claws dug up tufts of grass.
"Yarrowclaw, that kind of ritual doesn't exist," Mosspounce snapped. Yarrowclaw's chest heaved, ragged breaths morphing into sobs. "You have to snap out of it."
"Mosspounce, with all due respect," Sandhollow hissed quietly, suddenly at the caretaker's ear, "stop talking. Let the tom with mediator training use his training, alright?"
"How do we calm her down?" Mosspounce asked. Yarrowclaw kicked at Anchovystrike, but Anchovystrike laid on her hind legs. All Yarrowclaw could do was flex her claws helplessly.
"There's a patch of tall lettuce that loves to sprout near here," Weevilsight stammered. "That should help. I, I'll be right back!" Weevilsight scurried over the hills and through the trees, unable to stop her pelt from bristling.
Wolfgaze silently took over for Anchovystrike as Sandhollow whispered to Yarrowclaw, rubbing on the edges of her delusions. Anchovystrike laid beside Yarrowclaw rather than on top of her. Yet as he rested his head, something glimmered in the top of his vision.
Anchovystrike hadn't seen this strange sight since that moment in Downstar's den, coping with the sudden loss of his mother and brother. Soft streams of light flowed around Yarrowclaw and her captors like the glistening pawsteps of StarClan. Even against the shine of the midday sun, the light couldn't blind Anchovystrike. It pulled the weight out of his chest. Yarrowclaw sobbed deep, her whole body tensing. Then, she relaxed, deflating into her own unknowable misery.
"If that's you, Robinkit," Anchovystrike whispered, just quiet enough for him to hear, "thank you. And I'm sorry."
The ethereal light slithered around Yarrowclaw and dove sharply. It weaved into the back of the brown molly's head like a snake sliding into its hole. As it entered Yarrowclaw's body, the warrior sheathed her claws. Blades of grass stuck up between her toes. Sandhollow groomed Yarrowclaw's cheeks as Yarrowclaw sobbed and muttered a string of nonsense.
Anchovystrike wouldn't claim to understand what was wrong, or what needed to be done. But what he could do was groom his sister's fur and murmur gentle assurances.
(Anchovystrike: 19, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)
(Weevilsight: 19, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
(Currentsmoke: 19, male, caretaker, loving, good climber, skilled toolsmith)
(Ravenweaver: 19, female, artisan, nervous, den builder, very clever)
(Wolfgaze: 19, female, codekeeper, thoughful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)
(Billowhaze: 19, male, historian, loyal, good kit-sitter)
[Image ID: Anchovystrike says to Sandhollow and Spikecrash "I’ve dealt with a lot for a cat my age. This is nothing in comparison. Yarrowclaw’s still the cocky, rough-as-salt molly I know. She’s still the cat I have fun with. She’s just got a few extra traits now." Yarrowclaw sits in the back. Under her, it reads + PERMANENT CONDITION: DAY-NIGHT CYCLING.]
---
"So Yarrowclaw's crazy now?" Cobaltchaser gulped, settling deeper into her nest.
"Cobaltchaser!" Lightningrunner whined, sneering. "You can't call your Clanmates crazy!"
"That's what she sounds like," Cobaltchaser pointed out. "I'm not insulting her. Some cats are crazy. They can't control it."
"Maybe we don't call anyone crazy," Anchovystrike sighed, cheek on the edge of his nest.
By the time Anchovystrike and his patrol came back to camp with Yarrowclaw, nearly half the Clan had left the celebration at the beach, wondering just what they were up to. Weevilsight's tall lettuce helped soothe Yarrowclaw, so she didn't enter camp yowling and crying, but everyone could tell she was in a fragile state. Paleseed and Spikecrash kept the Clan back until Sandhollow and Weevilsight settled Yarrowclaw in the medicine den. Anchovystrike had Mosspounce and Lemmy to thank afterward; the whole Clan was about to pry Anchovystrike for an explanation, but the moment Mosspounce spoke with his mate, Lemmy pushed everyone away, reminding them the value of a cat's privacy. That didn't mean cats like Cobaltchaser and Lightningrunner didn't try to ask later, as the entire camp relaxed after the party and settled down within the warm summer night.
"He's her brother, mouse-brain," Lightningrunner huffed. "He doesn't have to tell us the whole story. Yarrowclaw's going through a hard enough time without us getting in her business."
"At least one of you gets it," Anchovystrike said, getting up. "I think storytime is over, anyway." Anchovystrike crept through the maze of nests that made up the warrior's den. Most cats were already in their nests, getting ready to sleep. Anchovystrike tried not to look at Yarrowclaw's empty nest. He failed.
Outside the den, only a few cats remained out. Downstar and Oilstripe spoke with Spikecrash by the Shiprock while Billowhaze sat with Currentsmoke and Estherfern outside the medicine den. Wolfgaze and Mosspounce shared tongues outside the warrior's den and perked up when Anchovystrike stepped out.
"How are you feeling?" Wolfgaze asked softly.
"Like my sister just tried to kill herself," Anchovystrike chuckled wetly. Mosspounce set his head against Anchovystrike's shoulder, pouring his sympathy into him. "The nap helped, at least. I'll have to thank Lemmy for giving me some room to breathe."
"If it helps," Wolfgaze sighed, licking Anchovystrike's ear, "I don't think she realized she could have died."
"Is Billowhaze mad I didn't bring him with us?" Anchovystrike asked.
"It's bad enough you had to see that," Mosspounce huffed. "If that was Trumpetspore on the horse-path, I wouldn't have been able to do anything. Billowhaze should be grateful he wasn't there."
"He understood after I talked to him," Wolfgaze said. "Just be with your brothers, Anchovystrike. I can move my nest closer to you tonight, if you want."
"That would help," Anchovystrike sighed, touching noses with Wolfgaze. "I can't thank you enough for your help."
"Yarrowclaw's our friend too," Mosspounce purred, setting his tail on Anchovystrike's back. "We would have helped regardless. Good luck tonight." With that, Mosspounce and Wolfgaze entered the warrior's den, leaving Anchovystrike to face his family head-on.
Currentsmoke spotted Anchovystrike first. He raised his head from his curled position and batted Billowhaze's leg.
"I don't like that I had to hear about Yarrowclaw from someone else, Anchovystrike," Billowhaze huffed. Anchovystrike approached with his head low.
"He sa'ed her," Currentsmoke sighed as Estherfern put her nose in his ear. "Sat's enough."
"All this stress brought Currentsmoke's fever back," Estherfern muttered, shaking her head.
"Oh, so now you're interested in medicine?" Anchovystrike hummed, daring to raise his head.
"I've put my pride aside," Estherfern scoffed. "That's not what you should be focusing on tonight." Billowhaze sighed and cleared space for Anchovystrike to sit between him and Currentsmoke.
"Sandhollow told us that since Yarrowclaw isn't fully of sound mind," Billowhaze sighed, "he's going to keep us informed on Yarrowclaw and what she needs going forward." Anchovystrike nodded softly. He glanced into the medicine den. He could just hear Sandhollow inside, speaking softly with Yarrowclaw. When Sandhollow's blue eyes turned toward him, Anchovystrike quickly looked away. Moments later, Sandhollow stepped outside.
"Spikecrash?" he called softly. Spikecrash turned from her conversation with Downstar and Oilstripe. She bade the leader and deputy farewell and joined her former apprentice beside the three brothers.
"Estherfern," Spikecrash cooed, "we can watch over Currentsmoke if you'd like to nest for the night."
"Here's to a quiet night," Estherfern hummed, nodding to the mediators. She nodded to each of the three toms beside her before she slipped around Sandhollow and into the medicine den. Sandhollow and Spikecrash sat with their backs to the medicine den, as though shielding Anchovystrike and his brothers from what laid within.
"First things first," Sandhollow explained, "Yarrowclaw's safe and resting. She probably won't sleep tonight with her mania, but she'll at least stay in the medicine den. Even if she doesn't plan on staying, Spikecrash has asked for a caretaker to watch her through the night." Spikecrash nodded along with her apprentice's assessment.
"Mania, what is that?" Anchovystrike asked.
"You could consider it the opposite of depression," Spikecrash sighed. "Rather than feeling low, your emotions are elevated. Everything is more vibrant, more stimulating, your joy and rage and panic are stronger than ever before. We believe these periods of activity Yarrowclaw's had over the last few moons have been manic episodes. When a cat goes through these periods of mania, their emotions crash afterward into depression. We call it day-night cycling. Mania is like the day, bright and burning, while the depression afterward is like the night, gloomy and dark."
"Yarrowclaw is depressed too?" Billowhaze moaned.
"It's not the same for everyone," Sandhollow assured him, shifting a paw closer. "From what we've been able to gather about Yarrowclaw's behavior, she may focus more on the 'day' side of this cycling than the 'night' side."
"What should we know?" Anchovystrike asked. "To keep her safe, I mean."
"For now?" Sandhollow sighed. "Just show her support. We can talk through the specifics another time. This is a lot to process. It's been a long day. You should all rest."
"Honestly, Sandhollow?" Anchovystrike chuckled, focusing on the glow of the medicine den. "I’ve dealt with a lot for a cat my age. This is nothing in comparison. Yarrowclaw’s still the cocky, rough-as-salt molly I know. She’s still the cat I have fun with. She’s just got a few extra traits now. Right?"
"Exactly," Spikecrash purred.
"We still want to see her though," Billowhaze said. "You said she's awake."
"Currentsmoke's sleeping in the medicine den, he'll get to see her," Billowhaze pointed out, his paw almost smacking Currentsmoke. "Just let us in for a little bit."
"It's best not to fight them on this, Sandhollow," Spikecrash cautioned, rubbing her tail along Sandhollow's back. "You three can see her, but be quiet and don't take long. The clerics are trying to sleep, and Wolverineheart has an ear infection they're monitoring." Billowhaze helped Currentsmoke to his paws. Anchovystrike touched noses with the mediators, but his mind was already in the medicine den. He led his brothers into the shadows of the ancient wood.
Potterypool sat guard beside Yarrowclaw as Wolverineheart and the clerics settled down to nest. Although Yarrowclaw's eyes drooped, she stayed alert, scratching at the moss in her nest. Someone groomed the dust and snarls out of her pelt and lined her nest with lavender. Billowhaze escorted Currentsmoke into his nest beside Yarrowclaw. Currentsmoke's paw hooked the edge of Yarrowclaw's nest as he stared at his sister. Anchovystrike loafed in front of Yarrowclaw, with Billowhaze sitting beside him.
"Potterypool won't let me leave," Yarrowclaw muttered, glaring at her guard.
"Do you want me to disobey Sandhollow?" Potterypool sighed, giving her charge nary a side-eye. "I'm not going on trial for letting something happen to you."
"I was going to cure Currentsmoke… I think," Yarrowclaw sighed. She rubbed her face, groaning, "I don't really remember all of it. There were horses… or maybe that was my heart. I feel like I'm the middle of a battlefield."
"You were trying to break your jaw," Anchovystrike muttered. Some of the day's panic crawled back up his throat. "You were talking to Robinkit."
"I didn't actually see him," Yarrowclaw mumbled, putting her head on the nest's edge. "I was so sure he was there, though. Ugh, I just want to hunt! I feel like I'm on fire. I don't like talking this much, I'm not saying anything. But I can't move, so I have to, I have to keep talking so I don't burn away, everything's going too fast. I feel like I'm dying. I don't think I can die."
"You can die, Yarrowclaw," Billowhaze huffed. "You don't have powers, you're not a cleric, you can't perform any rituals. You're just you."
"I want it to stop," Yarrowclaw gulped. "I want to rest, but I'm on fire. I want to bite my pelt off, get it out, but Potterypool stops me."
"And she should, you know," Anchovystrike said. He scooted closer to Yarrowclaw.
"I do," Yarrowclaw whined. "I do know, somewhere. I'm dying. I want it to stop. I want to fix something, anything. Sandhollow wants me to sleep, and I want to sleep so badly, but I can't. Everyone's dying, and I can't stop it." Yarrowclaw's unsheathed claws hooked around her muzzle. Billowhaze moved them off. Currentsmoke stretched until his paw rested on top of Yarrowclaw's.
"I'll 'e here for yuh," Currentsmoke said, trying to purr. "I'll fight with yuh."
"We all will," Anchovystrike promised. He set his nose on Yarrowclaw's head and prayed to Robinkit, to Harvest, to any StarClan soul who wandered around him, that his sister realized that.
(Cobaltchaser: 14, female, codekeeper, righteous, good cook, prey cleaner)
Considering her great teaching skills, Moontide decides to join Thundergale and Shrewpaw as a teacher, further validating Thundergale's ambitious experiment.
[Image ID: Shrewpaw and Thundergale proudly watch Moontide.]
As Wildclaw moves on from grieving Clammask, she and Rattlepelt go for a walk together.
[Image ID: Rattlepelt and Wildclaw approach two black newborns. Under the leftmost kit, it reads NEW PLAYER: VALLEYKIT, 0, MALE, QUIET. Under the rightmost, smoky kit, it reads NEW PLAYER: MIDNIGHTKIT, 0, MALE, POLITE. Under Wildclaw, it reads - CONDITION: GRIEVING.]
Rattlepelt typically despised winter. The snow was beautiful, Longest Night was lovely, and she always purred when kits played in the snow. But her Clanmates had fur. They could handle the cold. The winter wind didn't sting their bodies and quickly numb their limbs. They could safely leave camp! Meanwhile, Rattlepelt stayed huddled in the artisan's den, tucked under extra leather pelts while she, Rabbitjoy, and Frostpaw fixed baskets.
The artisan's den was packed with supplies and tools; leather wraps for managing hot stoves, drums, dry ferns and grass for basket weaving, and more. All those supplies trapped heat within the rocks and brambles. There was just enough work for the three artisans to sit and do their work.
"Trust your claws," Rabbitjoy said as Frostpaw pulled twine through the stakes of her basket, weaving it back and forth. "Your claws are made to snag material like this. Let them hook the twine and treat it as an extension of your paw."
"My wrist keeps getting stuck," Frostpaw muttered. She tried to hook her paw around the next stake, but since she was repairing a hole in the side of the basket, her paw had little room to move. The twine kept slipping off Frostpaw's claws in her effort to pull it through without breaking the basket further.
"Repairing a basket is harder than weaving it from scratch," Rabbitjoy assured her. "Don't worry if you can't make it tight. Try your best."
"How do humans do this?" Frostpaw groaned as she finally pulled her thread back around.
"Malformed paws," Rattlepelt explained with a chuckle, tying off the broken base of her basket. She waved her paw, flexing her pads. "Their paws are flexible and good at crafts, but they barely feel a thing."
"They also don't have claws!" Gingerpaw suddenly stuck his big fluffy head into the aritsan's den, his maple seed necklace bouncing on his chest. Estherfern lingered behind him with a bundle of bark, but her apprentice was ignorant to his mentor's shoving. "They just have hard rocks on top of their paws!"
"Gingerpaw, go away!" Frostpaw whined. "We're working! Don't eavesdrop!" Estherfern finally knocked Gingerpaw away from the artisan's den and back to his chores. As Gingerpaw walked off, laughing, Frostpaw groaned and threw her paws over her ears. "I hate him sometimes!"
"He's just being silly," Rabbitjoy said, patting Frostpaw's back. Rattlepelt placed her repaired basket against the den wall. As she stretched her front legs, Wildclaw peeked into the den. Her amber eyes seemed brighter than they had in a few moons.
"Rattlepelt, come outside!" Wildclaw chirped. "It's finally a bit warm. I want to go on a walk."
"I should really help Rabbitjoy finish the basket repairs," Rattlepelt chuckled, snatching loose twine in her claws.
"You've been trapped in camp for ages," Rabbitjoy scoffed. "If it's warm, go outside! We only have one other basket to repair. Frostpaw and I can fix it." Rabbitjoy rolled the remnants of a broken basket toward her. Wildclaw kneaded the sand, eyes glowing. Rattlepelt purred. It was hard to resist that face.
"Let's go, then," Rattlepelt sighed, fixing her lavender-lined fox pelt onto her back. Frostpaw grumbled under her breath as she searched for fresh twine and Rattlepelt joined Wildclaw outside of the artisan's den.
Wildclaw was right; it was so unseasonably warm that the Clan didn't need a bonfire in the center of camp. Snow clung in piles along the dark and cool corners of the rocks and wood, but RippleClan could once again relax against the cool sand of their home. The land beyond camp was no longer white and brown, but a strange, gray-tinted mixture of tan and green. Though Rattlepelt's skin still danced under the soft chill, it was a pleasurable chill. It was a fool's spring, the sort that RippleClan would usually take full advantage of.
But RippleClan was not, in fact, taking advantage of the good weather. Instead, Wolfgaze, Weevilsight, Ravenweaver, and Trumpetspore hovered around the medicine den. They quietly shared tongues and muttered soft encouragement. Some of their friends and mates (Billowhaze, Anchovystrike, Brightreed, Scaleripple) comforted them, glancing into the shadows of the medicine den and quickly looking away.
"It's Mosspounce," Wildclaw sighed when she noticed her mate's confused look. "Honeybuzz just told his daughters. The infection is getting bad. They aren't sure how much longer he has."
"Should we visit?" Rattlepelt gulped.
"Later," Wildclaw quietly promised, heading for the camp exit. "The walk might give me time to think of what to say." Rattlepelt watched as Honeybuzz trailed out of the medicine den, merging into the small crowd. Trumpetspore scrambled into the medicine den as Honeybuzz spoke softly to Wolfgaze, Weevilsight, and Ravenweaver. Rattlepelt dipped her head, allowing her fox pelt to cover her eyes. She ignored the rest of the Clan and pressed into the false spring.
The birds hesistantly tested the warm weather, chirping their questions to one another, as though their fellow feathered friends could provide an answer. The mid-morning light offered the land a chance to stretch and feed itself before the explosion of frost and snow that would mark the remainder of the year. Twigs and branches, reminders of summer's rich foliage, rubbed against Rattlepelt's fox pelt. Her paws sank into the wet earth. Wildclaw strolled beside her, quiet, her ever-present guardian.
The silence stretched on for longer than Rattlepelt expected. The pair journeyed deeper into the forest, simply basking in the light. At one point, they spotted Tallowheart and Splashtuft, going over a few tales. Wildclaw raised her tail in greeting and passed them by. The two mates wandered over boulders and roots. All the while, Rattlepelt thought and thought and thought.
A twig snapped deep within the trees. Rattlepelt froze, eyes locking on the sound. A great buck stared at Rattlepelt and Wildclaw. Its magnificent crown of antlers snagged leaves that refused to fall from their trees despite the pressure of snow and time. Its brown coat blended into the forest. It flicked a round ear at Rattlepelt, blinking thoughtlessly.
"Wonder if it thinks you're a cat or a fox," Wildclaw hummed. The buck slowly lost interest in the two cats. It bent back down and chewed on a twig just beginning to bud, tricked by the heatwave. Rattlepelt took a deep breath. Her chest still hurt from the shock.
"We should go home," Rattlepelt suddenly said.
"What?" Wildclaw scoffed. "We're barely past mid-morning. Why turn back now?" Rattlepelt couldn't answer her mate. Did she even have an answer?
"Do you ever have a feeling that something bad is about to happen?" Rattlepelt asked. She jumped onto a large, mossy rock and spun in circles, trying to get comfortable among the limp leaves.
"Define 'something bad' for me," Wildclaw said. She joined Rattlepelt on top of the rock.
"We've had a lot of good in our lives lately," Rattlepelt groaned. "You've been a great mother to the toms."
"Now that I don't have a death wish anymore?" Wildclaw chuckled.
"You still get into some good scraps," Rattlepelt hummed, gently bunting her mate. "No, I just mean that even with… what happened with Lemmy, the two of us, we've been alright."
"Don't tell the rest of the Clan this," Wildclaw muttered, batting at the wet leaves under her, "but I get where Lemmy came from with killing Achilles and everything. It all spun out of control for her. I feel bad for her, even if she killed our Clanmates."
"It just makes me think," Rattlepelt groaned, "is it our turn next? When am I going to suffer some major loss again?"
"What do you mean?"
"When will tragedy strike the ones I love? Will one of my moms die? Will something happen to Shrewflame, or Whitepaw?" Rattlepelt pulled her fox pelt off. She was almost panting under its heat. "I feel like something's standing right behind me. Like I'm going to ruin everything."
"Is this about the Shardling? We keep telling you that wasn't your fault. It's not like you wanted to be possessed."
"It still happened, Wildclaw. It nearly broke me. Something's telling me that it will happen again. I know I sound crazy—"
"You don't sound crazy." Wildclaw leaned against Rattlepelt. "It's been a hard few moons. You've been stuck in camp. You're stressed. Why do you think I wanted to go on a walk with you?" Rattlepelt sighed. She forced the ripping, anxious itch in her chest out with her breath.
"You're right, you're right," Rattlepelt groaned.
"I always am," Wildclaw chirped.
"Don't gloat," Rattlepelt chuckled, shoving Wildclaw's muzzle down. Rattlepelt dragged her fox pelt back over her sensitive skin as a breeze made the bare branches dance. Rattlepelt could still smell the deer on the wind, but she smelled something else too, something pungent and stranger than any deer.
"Humans?" Wildclaw muttered, tasting the air. "Oh, those are definetely humans. Yuck." Wildclaw sneered at the smell.
"I hope they aren't setting more traps," Rattlepelt gulped. "Frostpaw almost stepped in one last moon!"
"Let's see if they are," Wildclaw suggested, hopping off the rock. "Keep low, alright?" Rattlepelt nodded. She and Wildclaw crept through the twigs and leaves, letting their noses lead them closer to where the WheatClan and AshClan borders met. As they pushed deeper into the forest, the humans soon became audible. There were two of them, with gangly meows that wavered in pitch. Rattlepelt kept low, the tail of her fox pelt dragging on the undergrowth. Wildclaw, nimble as ever, slipped silently closer to the noisy humans.
The two humans stomped around the corner of the three Clans. They were young from their size, with the tight-fitting leathers that typically marked males. Rattlepelt marveled at the leather's bright colors and strange patterns, unlike anything artisans could achieve. The smaller of the two held his front limbs close to his chest, keeping two small forms steady while his taller friend followed and yowled.
"I've never seen humans fight each other," Wildclaw muttered as the smaller human hissed at his companion. The black masses resting in the human's embrace shifted. Tiny mews broke through the human screeching. Rattlepelt held her breath when two sets of baby blue eyes peeled over the leather. The small human had two black kits!
The storyteller in Rattlepelt imagined what the humans could be doing. Were they yowling about the kits? Who were the kits? Did the humans take them from their mother? Did they even know their mother? Rattlepelt's anxieties slipped away, overshadowed by overwhelming curiosity focused on the strange unknowable creatures called humans.
The small human suddenly made a quick, snappy hiss at his companion. His strange eyes focused on the undergrowth… the undergrowth where Rattlepelt and Wildclaw lurked. The pair stayed utterly still, eyes locked on the smaller human. The small human slowly crouched, still staring at the two mollies. He made a soft, mouse-like chirp that drew all of Rattlepelt's attention. It made her stomach growl, as though she spotted a mouse shuffling through the leaves. Her ears turned straight on to the human. Rattlepelt caught herself before she slipped a paw out of her hiding spot. Whatever strange magic the human was wielding, Rattlepelt could not give in!
The human continued making that alluring sound as he carefully placed the two kittens on the ground. They couldn't have been more than half a moon old. The kits crawled on top of each other, stunned by the sudden lack of warmth. The human crept back like a hunter. He crouched at the side of a tree fox-lengths away from the kits.
"Is this some type of trap?" Rattlepelt asked.
"What kind of trap uses kits?" Wildclaw muttered. "I think… they want us to take the kits."
"I thought humans loved kittens."
"Maybe they don't want to take care of them."
"So they leave them in the forest? How cruel."
"But they aren't, they see us. I think they're looking for Clan cats." Did the humans know about the Clans? Did they know about RippleClan?
The tall human snapped at his smaller friend and grabbed his shoulder. The human spun and shoved him off, sneering. They yipped and growled at each other, with their mangled paws waving wildly at the kits. Rattlepelt steadied her jaw. She crept out of the undergrowth. The nose of her fox pelt touched the light first. Wildclaw snuck alongside her. The humans no longer noticed them.
Rattlepelt snatched the scruff of the bulkier kit, a tom with a slight smoky pattern across his pelt. Wildclaw grabbed his brother, who looked nearly identical. As soon as they had a good hold of the kits, Wildclaw and Rattlepelt ran. The two humans startled, finally aware of what the cats were up to, but they had no chance of catching them.
Rattlepelt and Wildclaw only slowed down when the ocean peeked between the trees. They skidded up to a sandy beach and dropped the kits. Both toms were shockingly quiet, merely huffing at the sudden stop and trying to get their bearings. Rattlepelt panted hard. Wildclaw groaned, stretching her hind legs.
"Well," Wildclaw huffed, "I think we found your bad feeling." She waved a paw at the kits.
"You know this isn't what I meant," Rattlepelt muttered. She sat beside the two black kits. Her fox pelt slipped off from all that running. The tail floated on top of the kittens' heads. The bulky tom's permanently unsheathed claws snagged one of the dried lavender petals woven into the fur. So much like Shrewflame.
"I don't know about you," Wildclaw hummed, slipping next to her mate, "but this feels like one of those moments StarClan designs just for us." Wildclaw dipped her paw in front of the smaller black tom, who instinctively crawled to it. He latched his tiny muzzle onto Wildclaw's toe. "The next step seems pretty clear to me. Ready to be a mom again, Rattle?"
(Wildclaw: 83, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)
(Midnightkit: 0, male, kit, polite)
(Valleykit: 0, male, kit, quiet)
Mosspounce died of an infected wound.
[Image ID: Ravenweaver, Trumpetspore, Washington, Wolfgaze, and Weevilsiht crowd around Mosspounce.]
---
"Lemmy better get here soon," Mosspounce muttered. His bandaged, sightless eyes gazed out of the medicine den. "She'll be… very upset if she misses this."
Mosspounce laid in the back of the medicine den, surrounded by his daughters and Trumpetspore. The other clerics all left the den, giving the family their privacy. Washington was still there, though; Mosspounce had insisted the old tom not leave. The glow of a yellow sunset dripped between the thin gaps in the wood, dappling Mosspounce's pelt. Trumpetspore practically laid in the nest with Mosspounce, curling around him. She whimpered as though he had already died. Whenever her voice rose to a cry, Weevilsight had to close her eyes and push back her sudden rage. She couldn't even think about her father. All she wanted was for her aunt to shut up.
When Mosspounce made his comment, Ravenweaver looked ready to join Trumpetspore in her pre-mature vigil. Wolfgaze's hazel eyes tightened. Weevilsight stuck her nose into Mosspounce's ear. For a moment, she was just a cleric again, checking on her sick patient. Mosspounce's ear burned.
"If she wanted to be here she wouldn't have…" Wolfgaze growled.
Wolfgaze bit her tongue, however, when Ravenweaver quietly snapped "She's still our mom, Wolf." Wolfgaze paced around the empty nests of the medicine den, keeping her supernatural gaze off her father. Ravenweaver crawled to the edge of Mosspounce's nest and rested her head by his sickly-smelling wounds. Her lavender crown fell onto Mosspounce's head. Mosspounce shifted just enough to nose Ravenweaver's forehead.
"Your old molly's just off hunting, Mossy," Washington suddenly coughed from his nest. "She's on her way." Mosspounce purred softly and groomed his daughter's head, unable to lift his own and properly share tongues. All the mollies in the den stared at the old gray tom.
"I don't know if we should lie to him, Washington," Wolfgaze muttered, squirming under Washington's wizened eye.
"He can't understand what's happening anymore," Weevilsight quietly explained. "He's too far gone."
"Don't say that, stop saying that," Trumpetspore whimpered. She buried her face in Mosspounce's back.
"It's happening, Trumpetspore!" Weevilsight suddenly hissed, the petals in her fur fluttering out as she turned to her grieving aunt. "And… and there's nothing else we can do for him." Weevilsight stepped back, forcing her sneer off her face as Trumpetspore wailed again. Trumpetspore clawed at the edge of Mosspounce's nest and shook so hard that Mosspounce moved as well. A painful buzz filled Weevilsight's chest and made her limbs ache. Her head burned with too many thoughts. There was nothing she could do. Not for Mosspounce, not for Lemmy. She was losing both of them in less than a moon.
"I'm not trying to intrude," Washington croaked, shaky paws pushing out from his nest, "but could you help me close to him?" Weevilsight took a while to move, even as Washington groaned under the simple yet mountainous effort of standing. Washington's groaning mixed with Trumpetspore's moans in a painful chorus that threatened to undo Weevilsight's remaining sanity. The tortoiseshell cleric slipped beside Washington and supported his large weight. With Weevilsight under him and his broken leg stiff and splinted at his side, Washington limped to Mosspounce's nest.
"You're a funny old flea-feast," Mosspounce whimpered as Washington fell next to him.
"I'm glad I could make you laugh," Washington purred, "even if we haven't known one another long." Washington set his paw against Mosspounce's shoulder. "I'm sorry to see you go. But this is a good death, in my eyes."
"A good death?" Wolfgaze huffed, marching in front of Washington. "What would be 'good' is if my father wasn't dying at all!"
"But he's dying with his family around him," Washington groaned, waving at the mollies crowded around Mosspounce. "That's more than many get."
"Hi again, Tempest," Mosspounce muttered, lifting his head slightly. "Have you met my mollies? They're good kits." Weevilsight's paws inched toward the exit. She needed to stay, she had to stay, yet her body pushed her outside. Still, she stayed long enough to catch her father's last words.
(Trumpetspore: 52, female, warrior, nervous, makes the best pottery, good storyteller)
(Weevilsight: 26, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)
(Wolfgaze: 26, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)
(Ravenweaver: 26, female, artisan, den builder, very clever)
(Washington: 219, male, elder, nervous, good mediator)
Mitespark and Wolverineheart have grown closer over time, relying on one another through the recent chaos. They decide to become mates. Wolverineheart’s littermates celebrate with the pair.
[Image ID: Mitespark speaks with Wolverineheart while Boughfur, Thundergale, and Brightreed stand behind their sister in support. Under Mitespark, it says + MATE: WOLVERINEHEART. Under Wolverineheart, it says + MATE: MITESPARK.]
(Mitespark: 33, female, artisan, charismatic, great mediator)
(Wolverineheart: 23, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)
(Boughfur: 23, female, historian, righteous, great climber)
(Thundergale: 23, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)
(Brightreed: 23, female, warrior, righteous, student of art)
Moontide and Cobaltchaser don't move in time to avoid a large fir tree falling right on top of them. A patrol doesn't find them until they've both moved on to StarClan.
[Image ID: Moontide and Cobaltchaser are both StarClan spirits. Moontide says, "We need to see our sisters."]
