-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ]

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 6, 2024 21:15:18 GMT -5 lemonshortbread and Dew like this

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Post by Brownie on Apr 6, 2024 21:15:18 GMT -5

ABOUT

Hello, and welcome to the DawnClan and DuskClan revival! I had a really cool Clangen worldbuilding project that I was working on last summer, but the files ended up corrupting (along with my FlameClan file. RIP). I wanted to work on it again, so.... here we are! This will take place maybe 20 years after that Dawn and Dusk? Same camps, same Sun, same Caverns, new cats!

DawnClan and DuskClan live entirely underground. There's a bunch of cool fantasy things happening there, which are detailed in this first post. I basically copy and pasted my entire worldbuilding bible here for reference; don't worry about memorizing all the terms and ideas, they'll be introduced slowly through the moon scenes! The information is there mostly for me, and to anyone who is super curious about the world. That said, I worked really hard on it, so hopefully yall enjoy the ideas!!

Below the worldbuilding dump is the actual story! It will go slowly, as I'm writing a full scene for each patrol + one or two extra scenes for each Clan's camp. I really enjoyed the in-depth format during my first Caverns playthrough, and the characters really felt alive when I was able to spend so much time with them!

Also ignore the kinda ugly layout, its uh. A work in progress.

GLOSSARY

the CAVERNS - the name of this world, given to it by the Clan cats.

the SUN - a large, golden, crystal stalactite that illuminates the Caverns with constant, bright light.

the HORIZON/HORIZON LINE - the border between east and west that splits DuskClan and DawnClan’s territory. This border is stable in the far north and south, in the twilight zone, but is hotly contested in the Daylands.

DAYLANDS - a roughly circular zone in the center of the Caverns, where the sun is brightest and it is eternally daytime. The Daylands are covered in thick forest.

DAWNLANDS - a twilight zone on the eastern side of the Caverns, where DawnClan lives. The Dawnlands are filled with crystalline structures and are the most cavern-like, with fissures, cliffsides, and tunnels.

DUSKLANDS - a twilight zone on the western side of the Caverns, where DuskClan lives. Filled with mossy stones, cold water streams, and vines.

NIGHTLANDS - the area furthest from the sun, where no light shines and it is eternally dark. Avoided by the Clan cats.

TWILIGHT - a general name for the areas between the Daylands and Nightlands.

DIMREACHES - the further half of the Twilight, where the Sunglow is very dim. Like the world on a moonless night.

NIGHTBEASTS - mutated creatures that lurk outside of the sun’s light. They are usually large, predatory, and hunt Clan cats.

SUNGLOW - another name for the light emitted by the Sun crystal.

STARS - smaller crystals scattered around the Caverns that emit small amounts of light.

STARSHINE - light emitted by the Stars.

STARCYCLE - the Star crystals go through a cycle each day, where they grow dimmer and brighter like the rising and setting of the sun. One full cycle = one day.

STARHIGH - noon, when the Starshine is brightest

STARFALL - midnight, when the Starshine is dimmest

SUNCYCLE - the Sun crystal goes through a cycle each month, where it grows dimmer and brighter like the phases of the moon. One full cycle = one moon = one month.

SHADOWSUN - the day in which the Sun’s glow is weakest. This is when DuskClan healers visit MoonClan.

ZENITH - the day in which the Sun’s glow is strongest. This is when DawnClan’s healers visit StarClan.

STARSEED - small bits of gemstone that hold energy. Coveted by both Clans, but particularly desired by DuskClan.

SUNROOST - aka “the roost”. Around the Sun crystal, above the Daylands, are ledges and platforms where the seasonal birds flock en masse each season. The reason for the birds’ migration and flocking behavior is unknown, as they have nests and reproduce in the Nightlands. Each bird roosts for three suncycles (moons) which creates the four seasons for the Clan cats.

WATERWINGS - “Spring”. These birds have drooping feathers and extremely long tails made entirely of water. They shed water drops from their wings, creating a fine mist that settles over the Caverns during the spring and a constant drizzle of rain over the Daylands.

SUNBIRDS - “Summer”. Fiery birds that warm the caverns with plenty of light. These birds are by far the most intelligent and are universally revered as sacred beings of life itself.

GALEWINGS - “Autumn”. Nearly incorporeal, these birds’ wings are made up of air itself. These birds are far larger than the others and there are fewer of them. The flapping of their wings creates storms and heavy winds, circulating air throughout the entire Cavern system.

SNOWBIRDS - “Winter”. Icy birds whose wings are made up of crystal. They have frozen cores and water condenses to ice on their bodies. They shed snow from their wings and their presence chills the Caverns.

STARCLAN - patrons of DawnClan. They live inside the Star crystals; the brightest spirits shine in the Sun.

MOONCLAN - patrons of DuskClan. Their spirits reside deep in the stone beneath the Clans’ feet and their prophecies can be heard in the rumblings of the earth. Their spirits coax plants to grow from stone.

OVERVIEW

The Caverns. An underground world, sprawling, surrounded by cold stone and even colder darkness. Much is inhospitable, barren of food, warmth, or life.

But in some places, there is light. Life. A tenuous hope.

These sanctuaries are known as Sunroosts, where large crystals of pure light erupt from the stone, defying the cold and darkness and bathing the world in light. Here, plants grow. Here, prey shelters, and life thrives.

DuskClan and DawnClan reside near one of these Sunroosts, sustaining their Clans in the echoes of Sunglow.

In the center of the Caverns is the Sun, basking the Daylands in light. The Sun never stops shining, making the areas closest to it neverending daytime. Where the sun is brightest, plants thrive and a thick, dense forest covers the center of the Daylands.

Around the Sun crystal is the Sunroost: a collection of ledges, pillars, platforms and tunnels where the seasonal birds flock. These great migrations happen each season, bringing with them a different seasonal bird every three Suncycles. Hundreds of birds flock to the Sunroost; the areas closest to the Sun crystal experience huge shifts in climate and weather based on the temperament of the flock. Some days are calm. Other times, when the birds are more active, the Daylands are impossible to traverse due to storms, heat, or blizzards.

The seasons of the birds’ flocks do affect the entire Caverns system, but the intensity is mostly limited to the Daylands. The Dusklands and Dawnlands themselves rarely experience rain or snow, and the Galewings’ winds dissipate as one moves further from the Sun’s epicenter. Because of this, the Clans rely on the Twilight zones as their primary hunting grounds; the Daylands are lush and valuable, but only accessible when the season permits it.

Nearest the Daylands, where light is plentiful, plants grow in biomes much like their aboveground counterparts. Full forests, plains, and marshes can be found here, thriving in eternal daylight.

Further from the Sun crystal, in the Twilight, shade tolerant plants and mosses are the dominant life across the stony, craggy landscape. Some shrubs and stubborn trees might take root here, guided by the spirits of MoonClan to draw nutrients from stone.

The Dawnlands and Dusklands are somewhat illuminated by Star crystals in the floor, walls, and ceiling of the Caverns. These crystals give off less light than the massive Sun crystal, but plants tend to grow more thickly around Starshine than in the Twilight. Some of these Stars can be rather large, their light illuminating more than the faint glow of the Sun in the far reaches.

The Nightlands are the places in the Caverns where no light shines. Very little life shelters in these dark niches, preferring the Sunglow. The Nightlands are where Nightbeasts come from: predatory mutations that threaten the cats of the Caverns. The Clan cats do not know much about what lies beyond the Caverns, as no cat is allowed to venture into the Nightlands for any reason. It is simply too dangerous.

MAP

The Biome key:
Olive green - Dense, diverse forest.
Light green - Deciduous forest
Dark green - Coniferous forest
Pale green - Prairie
Yellow-green - Swamp/Marsh
Brown - Scrub? Transitional zone between forest and stone. Clumps of dirt with some scattered plants, interspersed with stony plains
Light blue - Stone plain. Some hardy plants might grow here, but mostly mosses and grasses if there are plants at all.
Dark blue - Mountain or cliff terrain.
Pink - Low stone floodplains. Think minecraft lush caves but darker: pools of water, slippery moss and lichen covered stone.
Yellow - The same as above, but slightly less wet. Scattered holes of floodplain, but mostly higher stone plainland. Grotto vibes.

DAWNCLAN

The stoic.

DawnClan lives on the eastern side of the Caverns in a territory that is dominated by stone plains, cliffs, crystal fields and tunnels. Their cats tend to be light-furred--blues and whites being extremely common--and solids are preferred over tabbies. Both of these traits allow them to blend in with the pale, smooth stone that forms the backdrop to most of their hunting grounds. DawnClan cats are known for their long-legged, agile builds and their dark skin that forms thick, hard paw-pads.

DawnClan are the traditionalists of the Caverns. Unlike DuskClan, which values innovation and creativity in its warriors, DawnClan's leadership emphasizes loyalty and following the Code and orders to the letter. They are known for being particularly stubborn and reluctant to change.

Camp:
DawnClan’s camp is Clangen Mountain camp 3, the crystal cave. DawnClan chose to live within a dense cluster of Star crystals, which suffuse the camp with multi-colored light. Many dens are sheltered beneath the crystals themselves.

The Passions:
Perhaps paradoxically, DawnClan's culture also values passion and has two distinct types: Sunfire (the passion of war and defeating ones enemies) and Starfire (the passion of love and protecting ones allies). Claiming to be under the influence of the passions is seen as the only valid reason for going against a leader's orders, as the passions of Sunfire and Starfire are given to a cat by StarClan and are sacred in and of themselves.

There is a third passion, Heartfire, a selfish passion given not by StarClan, but by ones own willpower. It is often romanticized in stories (for star-crossed lovers or tragic heroes working against their fate) but it is considered distasteful to show Heartfire in the real world and is often villainized.

Dawnlands Landmarks:
The Waterfall: to the north, an extremely tall but narrow waterfall descends the side of the Cavern wall into a pool. It doesn’t trickle into a stream, but instead flows underground into underwater caverns.

The Spring: to the south of camp, an underwater spring bubbles from the ground, feeding a crystal clear lake. It connects with a stream that crosses the Horizon to the Dusklands.

Shattered Maw: a large cluster of stones that project oddly from the cliff walls to the northeast of DawnClan’s camp. A common place for apprentices to train.

Ruby Raindrops: an oblong circle of bright Star crystals emerging from the ground. They are all oddly smoothed and round, brighter than many other Stars in the area and can be seen from most of the Dimreaches.

StarClan:
DawnClan's afterlife is StarClan. Their spirits create the fire that lights the Sun and Stars, with the brightest spirits giving off the brightest light. No living cat can visit the true afterlife in either Clan, but their touchstone with StarClan is a pure white expanse, where only the shadowy edges of spirits can be seen out of the corner of ones eye.

DUSKCLAN

The cunning.

DuskClan lives in the west side of the Caverns, a low-lying and low-ceilinged part of the caverns that is cut by many streams and rivers, and scattered with many stone pools. The ground is mossy and often slick with humidity. Their territory has plenty of prey, but illness is more common.

DuskClan's cats tend to have dark, patterned pelts. Gingers and browns are also common here, to blend with the mud and clay-rich sandstone layer. It is beneficial for DuskClan cats to have slick, oily fur to repel water as they are often required to swim to traverse their territory. They also have wide paws and tend to be smaller and stockier than their DawnClan counterparts.

Creativity and innovation are DuskClan's strengths. They value strategy and finding intelligent solutions to problems. They view the DawnClan passions as giving in to base instinct and as such, following logic instead of the heart is preferred. DuskClan likes using traps to lure fish into small pools so they are easy to catch.

Camp:
DuskClan’s camp is the Clangen forest camp 3: grotto. They reside in the fork of two streams, where a tumble of tall, mossy rocks at the point of the peninsula breaks the water around their camp, tumbling in two gentle waterfalls to either side of the clearing. The ceiling is rather low and scattered with Star crystals that shine light upon DuskClan’s camp.

The Hearth:
DuskClan's pursuit of innovation has drawn them to discover many things, including how to manage fire. A blaze is always kept in the center of their camp, to ward away some of the humidity and sickness from the Clan's most vulnerable. It is the task of elders and apprentices to keep the fire fed with dried moss and wood.

With fire, the cats have the means to fire clay (of which they have an abundance) into rudimentary pots. They can also tan hides, both into leather or pelts to keep warm and dry. DuskClan has historically traded their crafts to DawnClan in exchange for herbs, particularly lungwort and catmint, which do not grow in DuskClan territory and are necessary to manage commonly spread coughs.

Legends say that the secret to fire was given to the Clan by a Firebird that owed a DuskClan cat a life debt after saving the bird from a Nightbeast. The Firebird's feather that formed the Hearth can be seen in the middle of the blaze.

Duskland Landmarks:
The River - running along the entire western arc of the Dusklands, the river splits the Duskland’s Twilight from the Dimreaches. It is deep but slow moving.

Stonepools - In the southern half of the Dusklands are the Stonepools: a large swath of land coated in slippery lichens and mosses. Many tumbles of broken rocks create some solid footing, but the rest is scattered with small ponds and a layer of slime.

MoonClan:
DuskClan follows MoonClan, not StarClan. Spirits in MoonClan reside under the paws, in the stone, and their voices can be heard in the rumbling of the earth. MoonClan spirits tempt plants to grow on stone and are believed to be responsible for the lush, mossy carpet that grows in the heart of DuskClan's territory. No living cat can walk in the true afterlife, but the middle ground of MoonClan is a dark, empty space where the echoes of spirits show as tiny pinpricks of light in the silhouette of a cat.

OUTSIDERS

The Sun might be the only such crystal in the Caverns, but it’s not the only Sun in the world. Other groups may live around other Suns, though it would be a dangerous journey to wander through the dark Nightlands to find another.

Other, smaller groups may form cloysters around Sunbird nests. For three entire seasons of the year, when the other elemental birds are roosting, the Sunbirds will remain at their nests, giving warmth and heat to the surrounding area like a small Sun. These nests tend to create small pockets of life to them: plants and animals alike are drawn to the warmth of the Sunbird pair, creating a fragile ecosystem that can support a small group of cats.

However a life like this is still fraught with danger. Each summer, the Sunbirds will migrate to a Sunroost, leaving the nest empty for three entire moons. During this time, while it’s summer in the Caverns, the nest communities are experiencing a cold, dark winter where no light shines at all. This is a time of hardship, with no light and scarce prey as the entire ecosystem hibernates, awaiting the return of the Sunbirds and their fire.

Some cats may be loners in the truest nature: scraping together a living in the Nightlands, dark and alone.

And now another, foreign land: the mysterious “base” where Mudstripe claims to have been born. She speaks of many odd mysteries, like dark stones that speak foreign languages, lights of many colors that turn on and off, and even two-legged creatures that tend to cats like mothers and form their own colonies.

TIME

Time is measured a little differently in the Caverns. Because there is no sky, no sun that disappears, the Clan cats do not differentiate between “day” and “night”, nor do they tend to put emphasis on denominations of time less than a month. Cats sleep when they are tired and work when they are not.

The smallest denomination of time in the Caverns is a Starcycle, which is equivalent to a day. The smaller Star crystals fade and brighten in a fairly regular period. Many cats choose to sleep when the Stars are dim, as the dim stars make the Dimreaches too dark to hunt in comfortably. Instead, they spend their active time when the Stars are brighter. However, the cats don’t always align their sleep schedules to the Starshine and it’s not uncommon for half the Clan to be awake while the other half sleeps.

Suncycles are months/moons. The Sun crystal goes through phases, like our moon, which marks the month denomination in the Caverns. The time when the Sun is brightest is known as Zenith, while the dim period is known as Shadowsun. These phases are fairly obvious to the Cavern cats, who are attuned to the variations in brightness, but the phases are not significant reductions in the luminosity of the Sunglow. The most significant effect of Shadowsun is that the Dimreaches become nearly entirely absent of Sunglow, relying entirely on Starshine to illuminate them.

Seasons are marked by the migrations of the seasonal birds. Every three Suncycles, a different elemental bird migrates to the Sunroost, heralding a new season for the Caverns. The Season of Waterwings (spring), Sunbirds (summer), Galewings (autumn) and Snowbirds (winter) are equivalent to their earthly counterparts.

Years are simply years: a complete cycle of the seasons. Cats in the Caverns are more likely to mark their age in years than Suncycles, as they are more memorable; Suncycles as a unit of time are used, but not very significant in the day-to-day function of the Clan. Instead, seasons and years are used as the standard measure of time in most circumstances.

NIGHTBEASTIARY

Marsh-jaw -- Encountered: Moon 1
-- A slimy-skinned, salamander-like Beast with a long jaw and needle-like fangs. It's only the height of a cat, but is many tail-lengths long.
-- Successfully trapped in a tunnel, weakened for several starcycles, and killed by DuskClan.

Skitter-leg -- Encountered: Moon 2
-- A blind, centipede-like Beast with a dozen sets of jointed legs. It is covered in a thin fuzz of fine, black hair. It has two sets of jaws. Its front two pairs of legs end in stingers that inject venom.
-- Killed a loner. Cavestar was scratched and lost a life to its venom. Its current location is unknown.

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 6, 2024 21:16:15 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Brownie on Apr 6, 2024 21:16:15 GMT -5

ALLEIGIANCES

YEAR ONE

LEADER: CAVESTAR - a long fur pale grey tabby molly with hazel eyes. Faithful, excellent teacher, good climber. 106 Moons. A steady, wise cat that is proud of DawnClan's strong connection to StarClan. Despite DawnClan's historic stoic nature, Cavestar often initiates skirmishes against DuskClan--she knows StarClan's power is behind their paws, and that they cannot lose to those that can't see StarClan's light.

DEPUTY: WISPFANG - a long-furred dark grey tom with cobalt eyes. Grumpy, great mediator. 86 moons. Wispfang finds himself as the voice of reason in DawnClan and though he is fluent in sarcasm and dry humor, is a calm cat that knows how to strike a compromise between even the angriest of rivals.

HEALER: PANSYPOPPY - a dorsal-striped silver tom with bronze eyes. Insecure, good healer. 80 moons. After Birdspots' recent retirement, he's starting to have doubts about his own ability. He's spent his entire life in the healer's den with the older molly, and waking up without her there is hard for him to come to terms with, even if Birdspots is still around the den more often than not, even in retirement.

WARRIORS:

REDSTEM - a medium-furred dorsal-striped dark ginger tom with grey eyes. Shameless, formidable fighter, great storyteller. 73 moons. Redstem doesn't really care what he's assigned to do and isn't one to make a fuss out of anything. He likes to think he's a smooth talker and a flirt, and his inability to be embarrassed by his own behavior helps, but he isn't half as clever as he thinks he is.

LAVENDERDEW - a white molly with one pale grey paw and green eyes. Fierce, somewhat clairvoyant. 52 moons. Fluffypaw is her first apprentice and she's determined to do well by the young cat. Lavenderdew is fiercely protective and won't hesitate to draw her claws if any cat dares threaten the cats she loves. She sees herself as deputy one day, having Seen hints of her future--or at least a possible future.
APPRENTICE: FLUFFYPAW

WOODFERN - a medium-furred silver rosetted tabby molly with yellow eyes. Bloodthirsty, formidable fighter, good storyteller. 47 moons. Woodfern has a natural talent for fighting and her skills gave her confidence as a young warrior. She doesn't know the meaning of fear--or at least pretends not to--and is a reckless warrior, jumping into danger headfirst without a thought of the consequences.

RIDGESHADOW - a dark grey and cream tortoiseshell molly with emerald eyes. Sneaky, ghost sense. 20 moons. DawnClan's youngest warrior, Ridgeshadow has always been a little... odd. She refuses to sleep in the warrior's den and instead found a small cavern by the Shattered Maw without any Stars inside, where she spends much of her time when not on patrol. She doesn't like being around other cats much at all, though she is close with her grandmother, Birdspots.

APPRENTICES:

FLUFFYPAW - a long-furred light grey classic tabby molly with amber eyes. She has a white chest and face, and one white sock. Troublesome, avid play fighter, quick to help. 7 moons. Even if she's the Clan's only apprentice, one might think DawnClan has a whole horde of them for all the trouble she manages to make on her own. Sneaking off, pranking the warriors, and even having a secret best friend in DuskClan (Foggypaw)... Fluffypaw requires Lavenderdew's full attention at all times. She has a strong sense of duty and honor, however, and will always help a cat in need.

KITS:

BOULDERKIT - a medium-furred, very pale grey tom with white points and amber eyes. Unruly, quick witted. 3 moons. A young cat with far too much energy and the only surviving member of his litter

ELDERS:

BIRDSPOTS - a grey and cream tortoiseshell molly with ricked tabby markings and violet eyes. Daring, good healer, good fighter. 120 moons. Birdspots only recently retired, having served as DawnClan's medicine cat for many long moons. She also has skills in battle, as every cat needed to be able to fight during the war with DuskClan in her youth. She's a feisty cat that speaks her mind and isn't afraid to do what she wants.

STARCLAN GUIDE:

MORNINGSTAR - A ginger smoke tom with golden eyes. Calm, den builder. Cavestar's brother. He died at only 35 moons old, having only led the Clan for four moons during a horrific civil war. The war also took DawnClan's deputy, and so Morningstar's sister, Cavearch at the time, was nominated leader in his place. She finished the war, avenging her brother's memory.

ALLEGIANCES

YEAR ONE

LEADER: FURLEDSTAR - A silver tabby tom with a white dapple on his back and yellow-green eyes. Troublesome, clever, natural intuition. 54 moons. Troublesome Furledstar. The rest of the Clan would have preferred his sister, Boragebud, to take the position, but they needed Furledstar's clever battle strategies and ruthless nature to overcome the focused Nightbeast attacks that decimated the Clan and killed their old leader, Sneezestar. In times of peace, Furledstar's boredom prompts him to make rash choices. The only cat that can talk sense into him is Boragebud, which is why he made her deputy. He has a massive crush on Gingerstorm, and has since they were apprentices.
APPRENTICE: TULIPPAW

DEPUTY: BORAGEBUD - A medium-furred cinnamon classic tabby molly with yellow-green eyes. Wise, good speaker. 54 moons. Her brother has the strategic intellect and the ruthless nature to follow through, but no cat denies that it's Boragebud who runs DuskClan. Her steady insight can be seen in the Clan's minutia and she thrives on managing patrols, inter-Clan disputes, and ensuring DuskClan runs smoothly.

HEALER: MOTHPUDDLE - A long-furred golden agouti tabby molly with dark blue eyes. Strict, fantastic healer. 112 moons. A snappish molly who rules over the healer's den with an iron paw. She is the best healer the Caverns have seen in generations and she knows it. No one can question her cures without a cuff over the ear. For a long time, she's refused to take an apprentice, not wanting to sully her kingdom with clumsy paws, but now that her counterpart in DuskClan retired, she's almost regretting not forcing Foggypaw into the position (being the only one of the two she could tolerate).

WARRIORS:

FIREGLIDE - A medium-furred ginger and black spotted torbie molly with copper eyes. Daring, steady paws. 90 moons. A thrill seeker through and through, Fireglide is a free spirit who struggles with taking responsibility for her own actions. She does what she wants, when she wants, and it's hard to direct her towards a task. However, when she puts her mind to something she will do it to obsession. She has a habit of occupying her paws with fiddly tasks to keep them busy.

PLUMSTRIPE - A medium-furred dark ginger sokoke tabby tom with pale yellow eyes. Bold, great hunter. 89 moons. A quiet but steady tom, Plumstripe is the only real dependable warrior in DuskClan and he carries that responsibility with a tired humor. He often wears himself thin on patrols, picking up after other cats' slack, and will cover for them and make excuses even if he probably shouldn't.

GINGERSTORM - A long-furred dorsal striped dark ginger molly with faded white points and green eyes. Gloomy, talented swimmer, great storyteller. 59 moons. Gingerstorm is a cat that's nearly always in a bad mood. She carries pessimism around her like a shroud and always gripes that she's not a good warrior and that she shouldn't be trusted. She resents Furledstar for forcing her to be responsible for an apprentice, and resents Foggypaw even more for being so damn likable.
APPRENTICE: FOGGYPAW

APPRENTICES

FOGGYPAW - A long-furred grey ticked tabby tom with heavy white spotting and sage eyes. Charismatic, lover of stories, oddly observant. 7 moons. Foggypaw is smarter than he looks. He seems playful and easily excitable and he is those things, but he plays it up because he knows other cats talk more around him if they think he's a brainless young cat. He has a secret friendship with Fluffypaw of DawnClan, teasing her that their mothers were only a whisker away from picking the same name. He knows his mentor, Gingerstorm, doesn't like being chained to an apprentice and is trying desperately to get her approval.

TULIPPAW - A black tabby tom with white stomach and paws and grey eyes. Childish, splashes in puddles and constantly climbing. 7 moons. He's quieter than his brother, but causes much more trouble. Tulippaw is rather impulsive and Furledstar does nothing to curb his reckless behavior, even goes so far to encourage his habit of climbing trees and jumping into the river without checking for Nightbeasts first. Tulippaw thinks himself invincible and no cat can tell him any different. He looks up to Foggypaw and hangs onto his brother's every word.

ELDERS

CLOUDHEART - A pale grey rosetted tabby molly with yellow eyes. Troublesome, great hunter, talented swimmer. 143 moons. Cloudheart might have retired a few seasons ago, but she refuses to stay in camp, wandering the Twilight and hunting as much as she pleases. She figures that if she feeds herself, then the other cats don't have to work so hard and she gets a chance to quell her boredom. Everyone wins. She loves putting her paws into the stream by the waterfall and is always trying to convince some warriors to take her on a patrol to the lake.

MAPLESONG - A medium-furred dark grey sokoke tabby molly with crow feathers and yellow-green eyes. Confident, good mediator, natural intuition. 122 moons. Mother of Furledstar and Boragebud. A sharp-minded molly, she imparted her eye for strategy to Furledstar and her confident, people-reading skills to Boragebud. She's very close to both her kits and can be a bit smothering at times. She has a beautiful voice and loves finding small nooks and crannies near DuskClan's Rockfall in camp that have the best acoustics.

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 6, 2024 21:16:27 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Brownie on Apr 6, 2024 21:16:27 GMT -5

YEAR ONE

MOON 0

-.- HERB -.-

It was the Season of Waterwings. Spring.

The Daylands were shrouded in clouds of grey mist and Mothpuddle hated it: she hated how the humidity frizzed her long fur, hated the splattering of chilled droplets drooling from heavy leaves, she even hated that she had no one to keep her company, no cat to complain to.

She'd gone to gather herbs alone.

There were some missions she simply couldn’t trust warriors to help with, not without hurting themselves in the process. That was a risk Mothpuddle wasn't willing to tolerate.

Mothpuddle was on the hunt for deathberries. Yes, those deathberries. They did have some medicinal use in the right doses, like any other herb in her stock. Because in a way, all herbs were poisons and therefore, all poisons could, potentially, be cures. She liked to have some deathberries around, just in case, hidden in the far reaches of her herb stores, behind a boulder that was horrible to remove or replace, but that ensured that the more dangerous substances she kept weren't in reach of curious kits, or warriors, or any other cat stupid enough to poke around where their nose didn't belong.

Not that Mothpuddle allowed any cat to poke around her herbs for any reason.

So even if the rainy groves made her bones ache, she pressed forward, wrinkling her nose when mist-drenched leaves tipped water across her ears as she shouldered her way through the dense underbrush of the Daylands.

She scowled. Another clearing, bare of anything useful.

The fog pushed down on her like a physical force, growing heavier and heavier the further into the Daylands Mothpuddle ventured. The pelt on her back kept some of the wet off, but the sodden thing also added weight and so did little to help her mood. She spotted a lone Waterwing flying low, just over the treetops, and had just enough time to duck under a cluster of dense palmetto before a deluge of cold raindrops cascaded around her, leaves hissing and mud splashing for a single, intense second as the Waterwing passed overhead.

The water would be good for the plants--even this early in the season, the deciduous trees glittered with dewy buds, nearly blinding where Sunglow hit them, and many of the bushes were flush with soft, green leaves--but Moon and Stars, Mothpuddle hated this.

She was drawing close to the Horizon, the Sunroost directly overhead. Circles of rainfall painted the forest where Waterwings perched in the stalactites far above and Mothpuddle picked her path around these patches of active downpour, keeping to places where it was merely drizzling.

It was impossible to scent anything in this weather: not only did the watery fog muffle smells, but the overwhelming perfume of rich, wet soil ached on the roof of her mouth, so bitter she could taste it, masking everything else she might have sensed. She wouldn’t be able to scent if a DawnClan patrol had come by recently, but she did keep her eyes towards the east, scanning the undergrowth for movement each time she found a vantage to do so.

Mothpuddle really shouldn't go further, not without an escort. If Boragebud figured out how close she was to the Horizon now, she'd never hear the end of it. With a defeated rumble, Mothpuddle scanned the greenery for the late winter berries one last time, then turned around. Water carved rivulets of her scowl.

She could have plotted a new path back (slightly north, perhaps, nearer the lake) in hopes of covering new ground and potentially stumbling across the berries she sought. But she opted to follow her own paw-prints to DuskClan's camp, as she'd mentally mapped a few minor herbs on the way. It was a consolation prize at best to gather a few shoots of tansy near the edge of the forest, hardly enough to fill a single pouch on her side, but if that was all MoonClan deigned to offer her, then that's what Mothpuddle would take.

At least the golden molly could leave the heavy fog behind in the Daylands. A few stubborn tendrils of mist and a scattering of heavier rain drops from the passage of solitary Waterwings made it into the Dusklands, but for the most part, the weather that the birds inflicted on the Caverns was limited to the area directly beneath the Sun crystal and the Sunroost that surrounded it.

The layer of soil grew thinner and thinner as she trudged west, the land unable to support the deep roots of large flora that dominated the Daylands and its wealth of eternal Sunglow. Trees, then shrubs, and then even grasses and clovers fell away as her paws transitioned to smooth stone and occasional drifts of moss that made up the Dusklands.

Home.

-'- HUNTING -'-

"We should hunt in the Dawnlands today," Redstem said.

"By the waterfall?" Woodfern put her paws up on a boulder, peering over the cluster of stones with an awed glint in her eye.

For his part, Redstem eyed the Daylands with a wrinkled nose. Sheets of water poured from above, hiding the green of the trees behind a swirling curtain of grey. It was almost pretty, the way the Sun cast each droplet in light, a dance of a million stars.

But even from DawnClan's camp, snugly in the Twilight, they could hear the dull roar of wind and rain as the localized storm under the Sunroost growled, fierce as any warrior. Cold wind poured outward from the swirling storm, weak where they stood, but Redstem knew the gale would only grow stronger and icier the closer they ventured to the Daylands.

Depressingly, the thick sheets of rain shuttered the Sun crystal's light, and once the pair of hunters left DawnClan's camp and the cluster of bright Star crystals it contained, the Twilight was as dark as the Dimreaches at Shadowsun: stones and cliff faces a smudge of darker grey in the darkness, with the only meaningful illumination cast by individual Star crystals in puddles of color-hued Starshine.

"No, the waterfall’s too close," Redstem decided. Woodfern's tail-tip twitched, signaling the younger molly's faint disappointment. But Redstem wasn’t about to spend the next Suncycle stuck with only Pansypoppy and the ache of frost in his lungs and toes, so even if hunting would be harder, he turned away from the Daylands and set off into the deep Twilight.

Redstem chose a crevasse between two tall cliff faces in the mountainous south, where there were plenty of Star crystals for light and plenty tumbles of vine-covered stones that could support a small population of mice, lizards, and even a few snakes that preyed on them both. The older tom curled his lip, hating the idea of eating reptiles, cold, scaly, and bitter, but DawnClan needed to eat.

He gritted his teeth and set to it.

Woodfern followed silently (and, perhaps, a little petulantly) as Redstem led the hunting patrol to the gorge. Still, she didn't hesitate to leave the red tomcat behind as soon as they arrived, plunging deep into the narrowest crevasse she could find, taking her far away from where he hunted. Frustration clawed a growl from her throat.

She wasn't dumb enough to suggest going to the Daylands--she wasn't an idiot, they couldn't withstand a Waterwing storm and even if they could, any prey there would be deep in its burrows--but they could have gone far closer! This far into the Twilight, they might find a few straggling mice or small, scaly things that skittered in the shadows, but there certainly wouldn't be a fat hare or a bird in her future.

Woodfern slapped a pebble with her paw, relishing in the awesome crack! It made as it collided with the cliffside, the sound amplified and echoing in the narrow crevasse. Movement flashed to her right and the silver spotted molly shot her paw out pinning a tiny lizard to the stone. She curled her claws into its neck and the thrill of the chase quickly melted into disappointment. The creature was so small, barely a mouthful, and she'd need dozens--no, hundreds--of the stupid things to feed even Boulderkit.

Woodfern growled and stalked off, leaving the small lizard where it fell. If it was still there when she came back, she'd pick it up. If not, well, it wasn't much of a loss. Certainly not worth the time to find a spot to cache it.

An indeterminate, frustrating time later, she heard Redstem's call echo through the chasms. Her stomach rumbled. She should have eaten that small lizard to take the edge off, StarClan and the Code be damned. Woodfern backtracked to grab the singular mouse she'd managed to catch, her tail lashing as she followed her own trail of scent back through twisting canyons to where she started her hunt. The lizard lay on the ground--mocking, accusatory, insulting really--but she picked it up all the same. At least it made her mouse look bigger in comparison.

Redstem hadn't had any better luck and Woodfern narrowed her eyes at the pitiful pair of lizards between his paws, neither one much bigger than her own. "We've wasted enough time here," the red tom muttered, atypically quiet, and she would have snapped something back but she was too upset to find the words.

-.- TRAINING -.-

Furledstar tried to keep his frustration from showing. He stilled his twitching tail-tip, spoke calm and slow. But Tulippaw wasn't hearing a word he said, the apprentice's grey eyes dull like stones. Furledstar snapped his jaw shut, abruptly biting back the next part of his lecture on how to find crawfish burrows, and his sudden silence was what finally caused his apprentice to blink to attention, his ears twitching.

"Would you rather be picking burrs from Cloudheart's pelt?"

Tulippaw shook his head quickly, as if ridding it of bees. "Uh, no. No."

A pause. Furledstar's eyes narrowed and Tulippaw wilted under his gaze. Boragebud was better at reading cats, but Furledstar was a fair hand at it himself and if he looked closely, he could swear Tulippaw was nervous. His breathing was uneven, his ears pinned back, and his white tipped paws flashed with curling claws, as if he was unsure whether to fight or flee. Unusual, as Tulippaw rarely hesitated on anything--it was something Furledstar appreciated about his apprentice. This floundering was unseemly on him.

Furledstar padded away from the muddy stream bank, searching out a dry, moss-covered ledge to sit on, and curled his tail over his paws. Tulippaw looked downright meek as he followed and Furledstar's frustration quickly flipped to concern. "Tulippaw?"

Another slight hesitation before he replied: "...yes?"

Furledstar slowly lowered himself onto the moss and stretched on his side, trying to look relaxed, approachable. He took his eyes off Tulippaw, peering instead at a lilac-hued Star crystal behind the apprentice. Of course, he was actually watching Tulippaw out of the corner of his eye. He decided to face the Nightbeast in the cave with his fangs: "something is bothering you. Is it something I can help fix?"

Tulippaw's grey eyes went wide at that, his tail suddenly going still. For a heartbeat, Furledstar thought his apprentice might flee. He didn't allow his own muscles to tense at the thought of having to chase his apprentice down, and through effort, kept his posture relaxed. Furledstar took a deep breath, prompting Tulippaw to subconsciously follow his lead, and when he let it out, Tulippaw broke.

"Ivebeenhavingnightmaresand-"

"Tulippaw," Furledstar interrupted, his voice soft. MoonClan bless, he wished Boragebud was here to deal with this. "It's alright," the leader soothed. "Deep breaths, and we'll figure this out, alright?"

The dark tabby nodded, followed Furledstar’s lead in another deep breath. "Sorry," Tulippaw mumbled, but Furledstar waved his apology away, asking him to continue, slower this time. "I've just... I haven't won any spars yet and--" he paused, closed his eyes. The leader didn't mind, if it helped him draw courage. "I've been having nightmares. I--I'm on patrol, and a Nightbeast is there."

Tulippaw opened his eyes wide, searching for Furledstar, who gave him a slow blink and a small nod. "Nightmares of Nightbeasts are common," he reassured the young cat. "It's good to have a healthy dose of fear for them."

"Yes but..." Tulippaw hesitated again, but the fear was mostly gone from his eyes and posture, replaced by nervous embarrassment as he licked at his shoulder. Furledstar gave his apprentice time to collect his thoughts, grooming his own silver tabby fur while he waited. "It's not the Nightbeasts that make me afraid, I don't think. It's... I'm there with Foggypaw, or with Mothpuddle or... Yarrowflight. And the Nightbeast is there and I jump forward and it just--it hits me away and I'm stunned and I can’t do anything--" Tulippaw choked up, a sob trapped in his throat.

Furledstar's paws moved before he made any conscious choice, wrapping around the young tomcat and licking over his head with long strokes of his tongue. Silent comfort, a communal urge to defend a member of his Clan. "I haven't won a single spar yet," Tulippaw said, his voice softened by Furledstar's shoulder, muffled a bit by the leader's purr. "I don't feel ready."

"That's something we can fix," Furledstar mewed, resting his chin on the apprentice's head. "Though learning to fight, it takes time, Tulippaw. You've only been training for one moon."

"But Foggypaw can do it! He beat Gingerstorm yesterday!"

Furledstar knew the molly was going easy on him, they all did when training with new apprentices, but he felt that information wouldn't help Tulippaw feel any better right now, so he kept it to himself. "And you caught twice as much prey the day before," he said instead, and was pleased when the black tabby's purr joined his own.

"Yeah, I did," Tulippaw said, sounding much more like himself.

Furledstar gave one more lick over the apprentice's ear before unwinding, stretching, his claws popping through the carpet of moss. "We can do more battle training, if you'd like. I don't want you to push yourself too hard, but practicing the move Gingerstorm taught yesterday wouldn't hurt."

Tulippaw lit up, hopping to his paws, his anxiety forgotten as the prospect of battle training eclipsed his fear. "Really?"

"Yeah. Though I'm going to test you on the crawfish hunting method after." He was teasing, and twitched his whiskers as Tulippaw's face went bright with shock.

"Uh, I--" Furledstar turned and started towards the training grotto, grinning once his face was hidden from Tulippaw's sight. He'd let him stew in that mundane fear a little, to distract him from his anxieties, while "accidentally" allowing their training session to go too long and graciously extending the test until tomorrow. After all, he was still a little upset that Tulippaw hadn't paid any attention to his carefully crafted crawfish hunting lesson. Furledstar had spent half the day working on it!

-'- HERB -'-

Ridgeshadow’s den was not in DawnClan’s main camp, but in a dark nook south of the Shattered Maw. Pansypoppy made the short trip just after he woke and was glad to find that the eccentric young molly was there. He'd invited her to join him on an expedition closer to the Daylands to gather herbs. The Waterwings would certainly be resting after the powerful storm the day before, and it was shaping up to be a wonderful day, perfect for gathering herbs.

He’d the invitation and quickly excused himself, knowing Ridgeshadow hated any cat to intrude upon her space. Pansypoppy also knew that the young tortoiseshell didn't appreciate taking orders from any cat but Wispfang, and so his invitation was only that: an invitation. She could refuse if she didn't want to attend, but the healer hoped she was willing to join him. Not only was she the best escort for herb gathering missions with her sharp eyes and attention to detail, but he also wanted to coax a conversation out of her.

Because ever since he'd learned Ridgeshadow could see ghosts, he'd been curious about... well about everything regarding her ability. What cats did she see? Were they DawnClan ancestors, or did she somehow see into DuskClan's MoonClan? Birdspots had pushed her once, naming a few Dark spirits passed down from healer to healer, ensuring that Ridgeshadow wasn't being led astray by their malicious schemes, as unlikely as that was. But Ridgeshadow's ghosts didn't match any of their descriptions and, according to her, couldn't speak at all.

His invitation sent, he settled into sorting through his herb stock to wait. "You repacked the marigold yesterday," Birdspots commented. The retired healer was lounging in one of his (blessedly empty) patient nests, as she tended to do since she retired. "Counting stems won't make more magically appear."

He knew that, she knew that, but Birdspots complained about every little choice he made. Usually he'd accede to her wisdom and experience, but he also knew that she was only complaining because she was bored. "Wispfang asked me to ask you if you could watch Boulderkit today," Pansypoppy said instead, a complete lie, but one the deputy would certainly play along with. "He has a border patrol with Cavestar and the other warriors will be busy."

Birdspots watched him with sharp eyes, and he knew she knew he was lying through his teeth. She'd known him longer than his mother did and probably knew every one of his tells. But she snorted and shook the moss from her dappled pelt. "Fine, fine. You're lucky he's so cute." Birdspots' violet eyes twinkled and she brushed against him before she left the den, limping slightly.

Pansypoppy smiled and pulled one marigold stem from the pack he was "counting", which he had actually intended for the elder molly’s aching joints all along. Except Pansypoppy knew the retired healer would argue that she didn't need it if he'd added it to her daily herb packet while she was watching. Pansypoppy shook his head and tucked the stem into the mousehide fold of herbs. He’d drop them off in the elder’s den before he left.

He spent a few more moments on odd tasks: tidying the nest Birdspots had unofficially claimed, chasing dried leaves from the corners of the den, laying a few empty mousehide packets out, ready to fill with the herbs he intended to bring back. Pansypoppy was dragging his paws, hoping for Ridgeshadow to show, but after a while of making up new chores to procrastinate leaving, he had to admit she’d declined his invitation. "Well, I tried," he muttered to himself with a sigh, turning to leave without her.

A pair of emerald eyes flashed in the shadows beside the den entrance.

"Hey!" Pansypoppy exclaimed, startled. "How long have you been waiting?" Because it was Ridgeshadow, of course it was. The young molly had a knack for being invisible in plain sight, much like the ghosts she could see, and this wasn't the first time she'd lurked in his den without Pansypoppy noticing her entrance.

"Since before Birdspots left," Ridgeshadow admitted, stepping into the light of the amber Star crystal that lit the center of the Healer's den. The colored light painted her pale mottling a startling crimson. "I didn't want to interrupt."

Pansypoppy twitched his whiskers. He was a little annoyed--exasperated might be the better word--that he'd lost so much herb gathering time. But it was alright. He wouldn't have spent more time waiting than he was comfortable with, and they had plenty of time before he needed to eat and sleep again. "I was only busying myself to wait for you," he explained. "I'm ready to go whenever you are. You are joining me, yes?"

Ridgeshadow nodded her head and the two set off. Despite the many ghost-related questions on his tongue, Pansypoppy didn't try to push her into conversation, though he didn't leave the patrol to silence either. Instead, he kept up a running commentary of what he was looking for, the herbs’ uses, and how he went about identifying them in the field. Things that Ridgeshadow was never pressured to reply to, though he was surprised that she did contribute on several occasions, asking questions or adding comments that were invariably curt, but discerning.

While they worked to collect moss, a repetitive and boring task, Pansypoppy opened up enough to vent about how terrified he was for any of their Clanmates to be gravely injured, as he was the head healer, not Birdspots, and would have to make his own calls. "I know what I'm doing, of course," he said, clawing a pile of moss together into a bundle. Ridgeshadow worked beside him, silent, but he could tell she was listening by the tilt of her ears. It was oddly validating to have a cat that would listen. "But I'm still scared I'll do something wrong. It's silly."

"It's not silly," Ridgeshadow said, surprising him. "And Birdspots is still here."

He left the silence hang, in case she had more to say, and only when she went back to her work did Pansypoppy respond. "Yeah, she won't be able to help herself, will she?" As much as he was reassured that his mentor was still around to help, he also knew that he wouldn't be able to rely on her experience forever. He was DawnClan's healer. He needed to act like it.

The two continued their work, adding their piles of moss to the pouches of elder and oak leaves they'd collected on their walk out. Unlike some of the other warriors, Ridgeshadow never complained or tried to pull the patrol up short with excuses about needing to rest for later hunting or border patrols, and so for once Pansypoppy didn't feel rushed to get his collecting done.

"Thank you for your help, Ridgeshadow," he said, once they had the herb bundles leaning against a faint green Star, ready to be counted and put away. Later, though. It had been a long day and Pansypoppy wanted nothing more than a quick bite and a long nap. "I always collect the most herbs when you're around." The praise was making her a little uncomfortable, he thought, as she backed into the shadows. He wouldn't force her to stay any longer. "But next time, let me know when you arrive, yeah?" He softened the words with a broad smile and was glad when Ridgeshadow returned it, a flash of teeth in the amber Starshine.

He didn't see her leave.

-.- HUNTING -.-

For the first time in maybe four Suncycles, Boragebud felt warm. Raindrops sparkled across the grasslands and the Sun painted the landscape with stripes of harsh highlights and deep shadows. It felt more real, more alive, than in a long while and Boragebud felt like she could run forever. Indeed, neither of her companions showed any signs of needing rest as they raced across the pale scrublands, scaring off a flock of partridges but no one cared, there would be plenty of prey wherever they stopped. She could feel the life singing in her blood, she could feel MoonClan's laughter every time her paws kissed the ground, a joyous purr that lent speed to her paws and clarity to her thoughts.

Fireglide reached the gnarled willow at the edge of the marshes first, but Boragebud was surprised that she wasn't far behind the nimble warrior. Boragebud collapsed in the shade of the tree beside Fireglide, sprawling out against the sedges that caressed them. A few moments later Plumstripe arrived, his steady pace effortless, and he was hardly breathing heavy as he sat more calmly beside the two mollies, looking over the marshes.

"I'd really love some duck," Fireglide mewed, rolling over to face her with a long stretch that made her ginger legs quiver at the apex. "Maybe a muskrat."

Plumstripe tapped his darker tail against her flank. "Careful, muskrats fight back."

"Sure, sure. That's why I'll have Boragebud to help me with it, right?"

The cinnamon molly rolled to her paws, shaking the grass from her pelt. "No! Muskrats taste awful, if you want one, fight it yourself," Boragebud argued, wrinkling her nose. She thought the foul creatures tasted like dried pond muck smelled. "But I will help you with the duck, if you help me fish some crawfish."

Fireglide grinned. "Deal!"

Plumstripe sighed. "I'll be over here then, catching whatever I can and making sure DuskClan actually has enough food." He sounded put upon, but Boragebud knew that was only his idea of a joke.

She did, however, meet his pale eyes with a slow blink, a silent ask if he really needed the help, but he only shook his head minutely with a smile and, confident Plumstripe was okay with the arrangement, the deputy turned back to Fireglide. "Alright, let's find our duck."

It took several hours and many tumbles into the water before the two mollies secured their prize: a fat, oily bird they brought back to the willow and stashed it inside a hollow between the roots, carved out by DuskClan cats many years ago for that exact purpose. Already there were plenty of shrews and mice and water voles piled in the burrow, and Boragebud was glad that Plumstripe's hunt was going better than their goose--or duck--chase had.

It was too nice of a day to take seriously, and so after snagging a set of crawfish from their muddy burrows, Boragebud and Fireglide threw themselves into the pond below the willow, paddling about in the open water to get the muck off their fur. It felt good to let down her guard and play, and both mollies were grinning ear to ear by the time they grew tired and dragged themselves back to the shore.

Plumstripe was already waiting for them, an easy smile on his own face. Unlike them, his dark ginger fur was dry and well-groomed. "I thought if I caught any more, we wouldn't be able to bring everything back in one trip," he called out as they approached. He flinched and fled the spray of water as Fireglide shook out her fur, and while the two mollies worked to get their pelts tolerably dry, he pulled their stash of prey out from the burrow, splitting it into piles for each of them to take.

His catch was certainly impressive, with no less than seven rodent tails between his jaws. Fireglide carried another two mice, plus their pair of crawfish, while Boragebud was stuck wrangling the duck, whose oily feathers slipped between her teeth and whose wings constantly threatened to trip her paws when her neck grew tired and she allowed it to drift too close to the ground.

Still, having so much prey was hardly something to complain about and though Boragebud was tired from the long day, the warmth of the Sunglow on her back made her flush with contentment.

-'- TRAINING -'-

It was never easy to keep Fluffypaw focused during training, but today it was impossible. "Stop!" Lavenderdew shouted, and had to grab Fluffypaw by the scruff so she wouldn't tumble down the edge of the gorge. The near miss hardly phased the young molly, who wriggled in her mentor's grasp until she was set down a safe distance from the cliffside. "Honestly, Fluffypaw, what's gotten into you?"

The grey tabby molly's amber eyes danced, slipping away from Lavenderdew's pressing glare. "I'm bored."

The white molly typically had patience--it was why she was chosen to train the troublesome Fluffypaw, who everyone knew would be a pawful even as a kitten--but she drew the line at her apprentice's actions endangering herself or others. She stepped closer, using her height to loom over her, which usually forced Fluffypaw to take her seriously. "No, that's not it at all. Don't lie to me."

Fluffypaw rolled her eyes! Lavenderdew couldn't suppress the snarl and her paw ached to cuff the young cat over the ear for her insolence but she bit the urge back and settled for a low growl. "Fluffypaw," she warned, giving her apprentice one last opportunity to come clean.

Of course she didn't take it. Fluffypaw snorted, ignoring Lavenderdew's posturing and staring up defiantly with those amber eyes. "It's not my fault you're so boring."

"Okay then," Lavenderdew said, because at least she was an adult and could control her emotions. Even if anger surged through her, hot and sparking, she kept her voice even and cool. "If I'm so boring, perhaps you'll find camp chores more entertaining. All the moss in the elder's den and nursery needs replacing." Now Fluffypaw's eyes went wide in shock, as if there was going to be any other outcome for her blatant misbehavior than punishment tasks. "And after that, Cavestar needed a cat to help bring water to camp to shine the Star crystals. You've never done that job before, so it must be new and exciting, yes?"

Fluffypaw muttered something under her breath, and when Lavenderdew challenged her to speak up, she only hissed and spun on her paw, racing off into the distance. At least she was headed back towards camp, but the white molly followed her apprentice back with a sigh to make sure she got there safely. Fluffypaw hardly had enough common sense to stay away from cliff edges, let alone check for Nightbeasts.

She wondered what it could be this time that had Fluffypaw acting out. If she could find the source, she might be able to fix the grey apprentice's behavior. Lavenderdew sighed. She wished punishments would stick, but Fluffypaw wasn't cowed by the prospect of even the worst camp chores Lavenderdew could reasonably assign a young apprentice, and her warrior ceremony felt so far away for the young cat that threatening to delay it was completely ineffective. She couldn't refuse to train her either, because... that was Lavenderdew's job. And if Fluffypaw was going to be sneaking off and making trouble, the best thing Lavenderdew could do is give her the tools to protect herself.

She sighed again, watching Fluffypaw disappear into the apprentice's den, probably to sulk. Comforted that her apprentice was safe in camp and was at least smart enough to find a safe place to vent her feelings, Lavenderdew set off to the leader's den. She hated having to tell Cavestar that they'd had another incident in training, but the leader had to know, especially if Fluffypaw was expected to serve punishment in camp with the extra chores. "At least I can have a few days to patrol," Lavenderdew muttered as she stepped into the leader's den.

Cavestar took one look at her and sighed, though her whiskers twitched. "What happened this time?" the DawnClan leader prompted and Lavenderdew settled in to explain.

-.- TRAINING -.-

Unlike his DawnClan counterpart, Foggypaw could separate his training from his excitement, at least enough to pay attention to Gingerstorm's lecture. Or he would have, if Gingerstorm was actually teaching. "Or maybe it was like this?" The ginger molly curled her paw in a convoluted and frankly uncomfortable looking position that even Foggypaw could tell was more likely to hurt the user than the recipient in battle.

"I think it was right yesterday," Foggypaw said, mimicking the move Furledstar had shown him and Tulippaw the day before. The swipe was a cool concept, made specifically for younger cats that wouldn't have enough strength for a true blow, but Foggypaw could already see the applications in which an adult cat could use the technique. Like if they were making a quick move after a tackle, or if they were pinned and didn't have enough leverage for something stronger.

He practiced on his own while Gingerstorm tried several permutations of the move, twisting both her body and thought process into knots. At least she'd managed to teach him something before she'd lost track of the lesson, enough for him to practice. It did, however, give him plenty of time to dwell on what he'd planned with Fluffypaw later that evening.

It wasn't the time for such thoughts, but Gingerstorm wasn't paying much attention, so Foggypaw let his mind pick at it, just a little bit. They were set to meet at the southern border--where the small stream connecting DuskClan's river crossed the Horizon to DawnClan's spring--at Starhigh, when the Star crystals shined the brightest. Neither apprentice wanted to be that far from camp, that close to the Dimreaches, at Starfall. That was just asking to be eaten by a Nightbeast. Besides, if he was having a secret meeting with a friend, he'd like to actually be able to see her!

Excitement flushed his pelt. There was something compelling about doing something forbidden and Fluffypaw's blatant disregard for the rules, so unlike his instinct to follow them, was fascinating. She also brought stories of DawnClan, of the land past the Horizon, a world so close yet so different from his own. Fluffypaw said she'd talk about the waterfall today, which was apparently much bigger and louder than the ones in DuskClan's camp, and he couldn't wait to let her words paint a picture--

"Foggypaw!" He blinked, shocked out of his wandering thoughts, recognizing his brother's voice in an instant. Tulippaw was grinning ear to ear, Furledstar following behind him. The black apprentice ran up and tackled him and Foggypaw was too embarrassed that he'd let his thoughts get away from him to defend himself, letting Tulippaw tumble him over into the soft, mossy carpet that covered the training cove. "Did Gingerstorm teach you anything new? Show me!"

It was so like Tulippaw that Foggypaw snorted. "No, nothing new. Just practicing yesterday's lessons."

Tulippaw's grey eyes glowed. "That's what we came here to do! Let's practice together!"

But from the way Gingerstorm and Furledstar were talking quietly, Foggypaw picked up that they'd be leaving the hollow so Furledstar could work with Tulippaw privately. "Sorry, I have a hunting patrol after this. Maybe tomorrow?" It would be good for Tulippaw to have some lessons on his own. Foggypaw loved his brother and as kits they were inseparable, but he'd always assumed they'd find their independence as apprentices. It wasn't that he didn't want to be close to Tulippaw, but he also wanted to be his own cat, figure out what he wanted and who he could be.

Tulippaw still wanted to do everything together. It was hard to say no, and Foggypaw often used Gingerstorm as an excuse to put a little distance between them. But it still hurt to see Tulippaw's crestfallen face, the disappointment dulling his eyes. "Hey, maybe Furledstar will teach you something new too, then you'll have something to show me!" Foggypaw said, poking his brother's shoulder, and was glad when the excited glow reappeared.

Guilt prickled Foggypaw as he followed Gingerstorm from the clearing, leaving Tulippaw behind. He didn't tell Tulippaw about his meetings with Fluffypaw and never intended to. It was weird, keeping a secret from his brother, but... Fluffypaw was his and his alone, something he didn't share with Tulippaw and he liked it that way. He needed it to be that way.

For once, he didn't try to spark a conversation with the gloomy Gingerstorm, trying to befriend his mentor who seemed intent on despising his existence. Foggypaw let the awkward silence take hold instead, too full of other thoughts to spare any on his mentor's mood. He didn't think she noticed he was atypically mellow anyways.

-'- BORDER -'-

Wispfang was on a border patrol with Cavestar again. It wasn't that he didn't trust the other warriors, it was just... easier this way. Cavestar was apt to start skirmishes all on her own she didn't need Woodfern egging her on, and Redstem was too passive to convince her not to fight. Lavenderdew had her paws full with Fluffypaw and Ridgeshadow wasn't a candidate for border patrols which left... him. Just him. If he didn't want another patrol to come back with blood on their claws, sending tensions fizzing along the Horizon again, which he didn't. Wispfang liked the calm.

It was for the best, really. And he didn't mind it; Cavestar was a good friend, even if she could be overzealous, and she certainly was thorough. "There's DuskClan scent pooled here," she said softly, as the pair finished marking the border near the stream. "Recent too."

Wispfang sniffed around and agreed. "They had to have just missed us. But none of the border markers are fresh..." The dark grey tom let his eyes roam over the stone. The caverns this far south and this far from the Daylands were open, empty, and grey. Rather featureless, besides the single stream that cut a small furrow through the stone, trickling towards the spring in the Dawnlands.

So once they started looking for the shape of a cat, they found him easily, crouched behind a stone too small to hide his form. "We know you're there!" Cavestar called, her voice echoing across the stone.

The cat hesitated a moment, then stood. It was one of DuskClan's apprentices, Wispfang picked at his memory until it provided him with a name: Foggypaw, son of Yarrowflight. He was Fluffypaw's age or slightly younger. He frowned. "I didn't cross the border," Foggypaw defended, though Wispfang was quick to see the apprentice didn't come any closer, keeping his distance from the two DawnClan cats.

"You got awfully close."

"Yeah, but I didn't cross it, so I didn't do anything wrong."

Beside him Cavestar growled. "If we hop on over and take that territory, then you'd have crossed it." Wispfang resisted the urge to sigh. Sure, DawnClan could take a few tree-lengths of territory on DuskClan's side of the Horizon, but they wouldn't bother holding it. There was obviously no prey here--there was nothing here, besides the shallow stream, the three cats, and a scattering of less-than-apprentice-sized boulders--and the only reason the borders here were patrolled at all was to check for signs Nightbeasts were creeping around the Dimreaches before they got too close to valuable hunting grounds. That was all. So Cavestar's threat was empty, but the apprentice perhaps didn't know that, taking a shaky step backwards.

As if tied together by a spider's thread, Cavestar advanced for every step Foggypaw retreated until the apprentice broke and turned, fleeing the scene. The two DawnClan cats didn't bother giving chase. He wasn't worth the effort. "What was he even doing here?" Cavestar asked, returning back to the pooled scent. For all her hard words about simply hopping over the Horizon, she was careful to stay behind the border line as she investigated.

"Dunno," Wispfang replied, casting his cobalt gaze across the open cavern. "Maybe he was sick of looking at all the slime, mold and mud." It was nearly Starhigh, the Starshine casting the space in bright, multi-colored light, chasing away shadows and illuminating both the Dusklands and Dawnlands clearly. There was nothing of interest, nothing to draw a single apprentice so far from camp. He must be missing something... he gazed deeper into the Dusklands, trying to find another cat, a hidden ambush, but there was nothing but stone.

He shrugged. "He was telling the truth, though, he didn't cross the border," Wispfang said. "If DuskClan's apprentices want to tempt the Nightbeasts to eat them by coming out here alone, I say let them."

Cavestar chuckled darkly, but pulled her nose from the border. The two continued their patrol without incident, finding nothing else out of place.

Neither of them looked backwards towards the Dawnlands and so neither of them spotted Fluffypaw lurking in the boulders behind them, seething as the leader and deputy ruined her meeting with Foggypaw, thrilled that Foggypaw kept their secret, relieved that Cavestar didn't act on her threats and let him go. When it was clear Foggypaw wasn't coming back, Fluffypaw snuck back to DawnClan's camp before she would be missed. She didn't want any cat investigating and following her scent trail. It would bring up uncomfortable questions about why she was heading to the same patch of empty cave at the same time the border patrol caught Foggypaw there.

MOON 1

-.- BORDER -.-

It was hard to miss Nightbeast scent. Each Nightbeast smelled different, but in a way, they were all the same: so sour it curled his lip and made Plumstripe sneeze, buzzing with ozone and with a hint of carrion, of something long dead and rotted.

This Nightbeast also carried the musk of a reptile and an earthy scent Plumstripe couldn't identify. "Peat moss?" he suggested.

"Pond earth?" Furledstar added. DuskClan's leader crouched beside the drop of dark ichor, his nose wrinkled, either from concentration or distaste.

It was Tulippaw that had the most insight, the young tom's grey eyes going wide as he checked the scent beside his mentor. "It's willow bark," Tulippaw said, licking the scent from his lip. He looked surprised to have recognized it. "Mothpuddle gave me some for headaches, it smelled just like that."

"Nice, Tulippaw," Plumstripe praised the black tabby tom, who ducked beneath the praise, bashful.

"Have none of you ever had headaches before?" Tulippaw mumbled.

Furledstar flicked his tail, calling Fireglide back from where she'd been watching on a nearby Star jutting from the ground while the others investigated. "Let's see if we can't get eyes on it. We don't know how big it is, so I'll leave it up to you, Plumstripe. But don't take unnecessary risks."

"Sounds good."

The Nightbeast's trail ran parallel to the Nightlands, so Furledstar took Tulippaw south, back towards DuskClan's camp, leaving Plumstripe and Fireglide to take the northbound tracks. "It got far too close to camp," Fireglide said softly, once the two were on their way. The scent was thick and impossible to lose, the trail following the path of least resistance through tumbles of rocks and pools of water.

"That's why we're here," Plumstripe noted. "Furledstar and Tulippaw scented it earlier, when they were training, but didn't risk investigating further since it was far into the Dimreaches." It was always disturbing to find one, though. Usually the Nightbeasts were hesitant to venture into the Twilight, and finding one brave enough to stay on their borders for so long meant it was certainly dangerous.

The trail led into a tunnel, where the cavern walls pinched close together. It would open back up on the other side, Plumstripe knew, but the narrow tunnel was long and dark, Stars absent, and they couldn't see more than a few paces into it. The idea of being trapped inside made his hackles prickle. "Wait here," he said to Fireglide, gathering his courage. "I'll scout it out first. If it's clear, I'll call you." And he wanted someone to protect the entrance on this side, so he'd have somewhere to retreat to if things went sour. The last thing he wanted was to run from a Nightbeast on that side, only to be boxed in by another threat on this one.

"Yeah, totally, sure," Fireglide said, looking relieved that he'd offered to go into the darkness. Plumstripe knew Fireglide was faster than he was, but the tom couldn't bear putting her in harm's way, especially when Furledstar had left him in charge.

Plumstripe didn't give himself a chance to second guess himself, pushing into the darkness. It wasn't actually that narrow, plenty wide enough for two cats to walk shoulder-to-shoulder and tall above besides, but it certainly wasn't open like the rest of the Caverns, and the absence of Starglow was stark, the darkness absolute after only a few moments. But while he didn't like being in the dark, he certainly had been in plenty of dark tunnels before--it was hard to avoid them, really--and so he was confident relying on his other senses--touch and scent, mostly, but also the air pressure on his fur and whiskers--to navigate the space.

It was also how he realized that the Nightbeast was here, in the tunnel with him. Its rasping breath echoed, a warmth pressing into his fur. It was close.

Plumstripe didn't hesitate, he ran. And not a moment too soon, as he heard jaws snap behind his tail, a sudden wind pressing against the backs of his paws as something large displaced the air. He pushed his paws faster. From the feel of it, the Nightbeast would struggle to push its mass through the narrow tunnel, but that didn't stop Plumstripe from running as fast as he could towards the smudge of light at the end of the tunnel.

He burst free. He didn't need to warn Fireglide, who was already at his flank as they left the tunnel behind and climbed a short hill. Only once they had a vantage did Plumstripe look behind him, skidding to a stop when he knew the Nightbeast wasn't close on their heels, collapsing against the moss-covered stone when he didn't see it erupt out of the tunnel's mouth behind them.

Fireglide sounded the alarm, a high-pitched yowl that would echo through the Twilight, alerting Furledstar and Tulippaw that they'd encountered the beast and needed backup. She kept on her toes, watching the tunnel entrance so Plumstripe could gather his breath and his thoughts. It was only now, sitting, that his paws began to sting and he stifled a hiss of pain as he licked the blood from the scrapes.

"How big was it?" Fireglide asked, once his breathing was even. The Nightbeast still hadn't appeared, and by this point, Plumstripe doubted it would. It had struck fast as a snake, but perhaps it was slow at walking. That would explain why the scent trail was as thick as it was.

"I couldn't tell, I was still in the tunnel when I ran into it. Has to be small enough to fit in there, though," he said, flicking his tail towards the dark mouth. "And either it got to the other side and was coming back through, for some reason, or it was small enough to turn around in there because it certainly snapped at me." There were only a few places in the Nightlands that bigger Nightbeasts could come through, and it hadn't been spotted at any of those, so it was likely that the creature wasn't more than double the size of a cat.

Still, with the potential of venom or other dangerous weapons, even a small Nightbeast was deadly. "We should try and trap it there," Plumstripe decided. "It would be hard, but if we kept watch on both sides of the tunnel..."

It was then that Fireglide saw Furledstar approach, standing and hailing the leader with a wave of her tail. Plumstripe waited until the patrol was together before continuing. "It smelled aquatic," he said. Now that the danger was past, he couldn't help but yawn, exhaustion tugging on his limbs. His paws still stung and would probably need Mothpuddle's attention when he got back to camp too.

"We should trap it in the tunnel," he put forth again. "It's headed for the marshes, and I fear it will be impossible to drive out once it reaches water." Furledstar looked about to argue, but then tipped his head, regarding the tunnel beyond. "I don't think we should fight it. Maybe it will dry out."

"DuskClan doesn't have the resources to guard the tunnel for more than a day, maybe two," Furledstar said, but Plumstripe could see thoughts turning behind the cunning tabby's yellow-green eyes. "But if it is truly aquatic, perhaps that long away from water will weaken it enough that we could kill it there. The terrain certainly works to our advantage, if we have enough cats."

In the end, they left Fireglide to watch the tunnel with Tulippaw to serve as messenger, while the two other toms returned to camp. "You've done enough today, Plumstripe. Have Mothpuddle look at those paws," Furledstar had said, helping the ginger tabby to his paws and back to camp. They talked strategy the entire way back--Furledstar did most of the planning, using Plumstripe as a sounding board to smooth out some wrinkles--and by the time they heard the twin waterfalls of DuskClan's camp, they had a solid plan for dealing with the Nightbeast.

Plumstripe wasn't chosen for the battle patrol, as he was ordered by Mothpuddle to rest his scraped feet until they healed. But he worried the entire time, at least until Tulippaw and Foggypaw raced into camp, matching grins on their faces, eager to tell everyone that hadn't been there--only Plumstripe and Mothpuddle in the healer's den, and Cloudheart and Maplesong in the elder's--how successful the fight was. "Furledstar thought of everything!" Foggypaw gushed. "He even let us fight!"

-'- HERB -'-

"I think Cavestar is flirting with me," Redstem said.

"Yeah?" Pansypoppy replied halfheartedly, having long since tuned out the talkative warrior's words. It wasn't like collecting soft oak leaves from the young shrubs took much attention; that Pansypoppy preferred focusing on the boring task rather than Redstem's mind-numbing prattling was rather a testament to how quickly the warrior grated on his nerves.

Redstem wasn't even helping. Not that Pansypoppy needed help gathering herbs, only that he'd be foolish to venture this close to the Daylands alone. Hence Redstem. Though Pansypoppy thought being a guard would involve more watching for threats and less talking.

"You talk to Cavestar a lot, Pansy. What do you think?"

Pansypoppy's tail lashed and his claws took off more than just leaves from the shrub he'd been harvesting off of. He hated when Redstem shortened his name, told the tomcat to stop many times, but always when he least expected it, there Redstem was, Pansy, like he hadn't worked his tail off to get his full name.

He hoped that Redstem would take his silence as an opening to go off on another ramble, but, annoyingly--for the first time in his entire life even--the selfish warrior actually wanted his opinion. "Pansy?"

"I don't know," the grey healer said, and he thought he did a miraculous job at keeping his frustration out of his voice. It wouldn't help anyone to start an argument here, this close to the Daylands. And when did they wander so close? The Waterwings were uncharacteristically calm today (which is why Pansypoppy had been so eager to collect herbs, even if the only warrior escort available was Redstem) and his pelt was dappled in shadow from budding trees. He'd simply been following his nose: plants this way! the wind sang, and with Redstem's self-guided soliloquies distracting him, Pansypoppy hadn't been paying much attention to his surroundings.

They shouldn't be this close, with only one warrior on such a nice day. Pansypoppy was about to say as much when Redstem abruptly stepped into his space, bumping under the healer's chin. "Come on, you can tell me," the ginger tom wheedled. "I've already figured it out, haven't I? No harm in dropping the feather."

Redstem's fire-tipped tail poked Pansypoppy in the nose and it took all the healer's willpower not to snap at it. Instead, he turned his head, burying his nose in the pile of herbs he'd collected--a pitiful amount, really, not worth this--and quirked his tail back toward the Dawnlands. "That means it's true, right? I knew it! Stars, I'm good." Pansypoppy narrowed his eyes. The Waterwings must have stirred, as a slight rain started to patter against the leaves around them.

Wonderful.

At least Pansypoppy had an excuse for why he kept his ears down and why his tail lashed in frustration as his pelt grew heavier and heavier with water. Even Redstem's commentary slowed as the sprinkle turned to a constant drizzle. All for a few measly leaves.

-.- HUNTING -.-

A second bird fell under Foggypaw's claws and he looked up with a wide grin on his face, expecting praise from Gingerstorm. She'd been teaching him how to properly stalk a bird since Starhigh, and Foggypaw really got it this time! But his mentor wasn't where he'd left her. Foggypaw picked up the kingbird, brought it back to the tumble of stones where he'd stashed the first one he'd caught, and climbed atop the rocks for a better vantage. He hadn't heard anything odd, and Nightbeasts weren't known for their legendary stealth...

At least Gingerstorm's red pelt was easy to spot against the grey-and-green patchwork of moss and stone, only a short distance away. He wasn't expecting to see Furledstar at her side, the leader looking visibly upset even from a distance: his ears pinned back, his tail low and twitching erratically, his jaw snapping shut with every word he said.

Sound carried oddly in caves. Even kits knew how to manipulate the terrain to muffle their pawsteps, to use a bare bit of rock to project their voice directly into, say, the elder's den. It was clear that Furledstar had brought Gingerstorm to a place where their voices wouldn't carry. It could have just been to avoid startling the kingbird Foggypaw had been stalking, but the grey and white apprentice had a sinking feeling that they were talking about him and that's why they didn't want him to be able to eavesdrop.

They knew he was there, atop the rock. Furledstar's eyes had flicked to him when he'd sat up on the peak, and Gingerstorm's glances in his direction only increased in frequency as the conversation went on. Any hope that Foggypaw had that the topic wasn't about him had flown away with the Snowbirds.

He was tempted to hop down from his perch and interrupt--they hadn't told him to stay away, after all--but as he watched Gingerstorm's body language start to mirror the DuskClan leader's... well, he wasn't exactly keen on rushing into the inevitable tongue-lashing he was about to receive.

Was it about his run-in with the DawnClan patrol last moon? StarClan, he didn't think the DawnClan duo would gossip about it, not in a way that would reach DuskClan ears. Well... he had worried about it at first (he'd worried about it quite a lot, really) but after several Starcycles passed and the metaphorical tree hadn't fallen on his very-real head, well long enough that his scent trail would have completely faded, Foggypaw thought he'd avoided having to confront that particularly talking-to.

"Foggypaw!" He had been wrong.

He took his time crossing the moss-covered clearing, though he knew dragging his paws wouldn't save him from anything. Still, it gave him a few extra moments of peace.

"Do you want to tell me why a DawnClan patrol found you lurking the Dimreaches alone last HalfSun, Foggypaw, or would you rather I draw my own conclusions?" Furledstar said. Irritation simmered in his low growl, but most of his hostile body language had stilled, intense but focused, waiting on his answer.

Foggypaw licked a scrap of moss from between his paw-pads to give his panicked mind a chance to think. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to consider. Furledstar wielded logic like a second set of claws; the best shot he had at getting through this (without being confined to camp for the next three Suncycles) was to come clean.

"I was meeting with Fluffypaw, Furledstar." The apprentice kept his eyes down, his grey ears back. He heard Gingerstorm hiss but ignored his mentor. "I was curious about DawnClan and, well, it's funny right? How our names are so similar and we're the same age. I thought I could learn something from her."

It was more than that, of course. They'd only had a few clandestine meetings, but Foggypaw's intention wasn't to spy, or to use Fluffypaw--he wanted a friend. He needed a friend that was his age that wasn't his brother. Furledstar had Gingerstorm, and Boragebud, and Yarrowflight had only been a few moons younger than they were. The leader didn't know what it felt like to be the only cat under fifty moons in the entire Clan, he didn't--couldn't--understand why Foggypaw needed this so badly, he'd break the Code and go against all of his Clan's history to achieve it.

"We talk, that's all," Foggypaw added.

"And did you learn anything of use?"

"Furledstar!" Gingerstorm hissed, and finally Foggypaw looked up. His mentor's hackles were dark, her bushy tail lashing behind her. He'd never, in his life, seen her so passionate about... anything before. "You can't possibly encourage this!"

Furledstar only raised his dark-tipped tail, silencing her, his chartreuse eyes grabbing hold of Foggypaw's, demanding an answer. "Um, well," the apprentice fumbled, desperately trying to sort out how much he wanted to give away. "We've only met up once before." A lie, but a believable one. More believable than the truth: that they had snuck away four times in a HalfSun, once even to the Daylands. Foggypaw did not want Furledpaw to know how easy it was for him to slip away from Gingerstorm. "She talked about the waterfall? On DawnClan's territory? And how to hunt lizards there."

The silver tabby tom waited. "They have a cat that can see ghosts," Foggypaw admitted, mentally sending an apology over the Horizon to Fluffypaw for giving up one of DawnClan's secrets, but he had to choose something juicy enough that Furledstar wouldn't think to push further.

Like an eagle that spotted a massive carp, it caught Furledstar's attention, just like Foggypaw hoped it would. The leader sat down. "Oh?" he prompted, and if this tidbit was all Foggypaw had to give up to appease Furledstar, then he'd do so gladly. He couldn't see a way that Furledstar could use it against DawnClan, against Fluffypaw.

"Fluffypaw said Ridgeshadow--the molly that sees ghosts--is really weird. Lives in a cave all by herself, doesn't participate in patrols much, doesn't like talking to anyone. The other DawnClan cats don't like her very much. Fluffypaw is scared of her."

"A cat that sees ghosts? Not MoonClan--or StarClan?" Gingerstorm cut in. At least Furledstar's de-escalation had calmed her a little, enough that she lowered her hackles, even if her tail betrayed her anger.

Furledstar flicked an ear. "Yes. It's a rare ability, but not unheard of. Cloudheart's great grandsire had ghostsight, I believe." Even as he spoke, it was clear Furledstar's mind was elsewhere, scheming, chewing at the new information. It made Foggypaw's pelt crawl and he felt guilty... for feeling guilty after betraying Fluffypaw's trust.

Then Furledstar came back to the present, his yellow eyes blinking, intensity returning as he spoke: "You'll continue to meet with Fluffypaw regardless of your punishment," he said, not a question but a certainty, and Foggypaw winced. "You will tell me when and where each of these meetings will occur, as soon as you know the details. A warrior will shadow you to and from these meetings; you are lucky it was only a DawnClan border patrol that interrupted your last rendezvous and not a Nightbeast, Foggypaw."

Foggypaw bristled at that. He might be an apprentice, but he knew how to take care of himself! His four other meetings with Fluffypaw was proof of that! But arguing would force his hand into admitting to those other meetings, and he couldn't do that. Foggypaw had the sinking feeling of a cat that tried to escape a Nightbeast by hiding in a cave, only to find themselves trapped in a corner with nowhere left to go, his only hope that the Nightbeast in question would grow bored of the game. And he knew Furledstar wouldn't give up quickly.

Foggypaw dropped his head with a sigh, his tail drooping. "Yes, Furledstar."

Furledstar stood, the silver tabby tom flicking a pebble with his claw. "I can't ignore that you broke the Code--and thought you could sneak around behind my back. You'll replace the moss in every den. Cloudheart will release you when she deems your work satisfactory."

"A light punishment for Code breaking," Gingerstorm said. Foggypaw almost forgot his mentor was there. It was like Furledstar demanded all of his attention, overshadowing every other cat when he spoke. Foggypaw didn't know if that was a Furledstar thing or a leader thing.

Foggypaw expected Furledstar to dismiss her, and was surprised when the leader tipped his head, considering Gingerstorm's words. "Fresh moss, then. Foggypaw cannot use any of Mothpuddle's stores when completing his task. Will that suffice?"

"It'll keep him busy for a few extra Starcycles." Why did Foggypaw get the feeling that she didn't care about the punishment at all, but simply wanted an excuse to not train him for as long as she could get away with it? He covertly rolled his eyes. He could deal with five or six Starcycles in camp changing bedding, and he was now doubly glad he hadn't admitted to the true frequency of his meetings with Fluffypaw: so long as he was careful, he could give Furledstar the time of their meetings every HalfSun or so, and go on the rest of his meetings without the leader's knowledge. He was fairly confident he could sneak away unnoticed, though he'd have to be extra careful the next few Suns until Furledstar lowered his guard again.

Sun and fire, what was he going to tell Fluffypaw?

-'- HUNTING -'-

Woodfern crouched beneath a tropical-looking plant, with leaves almost double the size of her body. It was a great place to shelter from the Waterwings as she watched Fluffypaw stalk a squirrel through the rain. The squirrel suddenly stopped, alert, and instead of freezing herself and waiting for it to relax, Fluffypaw leaped forward. Woodfern didn't think she could possibly leap the gap and was surprised when the apprentice sailed over a tangle of vines and snagged the squirrel's bushy tail between her claws.

The resulting scuffle wasn't clean, but the prey ended up beneath Fluffypaw's paws and that's all that really mattered, right?

"Wow, that was an impressive leap!" Woodfern praised the young cat, trotting over to touch her nose to Fluffypaw's ear, even if she was loathe to leave her dry spot. She was already well soaked from their long afternoon hunting anyways, and the few moments waiting for Fluffypaw to make her catch didn't do anything to dry her pelt. It was worth it for the way Fluffypaw beamed back up at her, alight with pride.

Lavenderdew approached from the other side of the clearing, picking her long legs up tall with every step, as if that would help her avoid the mud. "Impressive, yes, but wholly unnecessary," Lavenderdew mewed. "Didn't I teach you patience?"

Fluffypaw dismissed her mentor with a flick of her ear. "I knew I could do it."

"A warrior should always continue to push their limits. That's the only way to improve," Woodfern said.

Lavenderdew's glare caught Woodfern off guard. "Please refrain from filling my apprentice's head with your nonsense," the white molly said. Woodfern gaped, struck wordless by Lavenderdew's snipped dismissal. "As for you, Fluffypaw, perhaps I've been going about your training the wrong way. Checking Birdspots for ticks might be a better lesson in patience."

For the first time that patrol, Fluffypaw turned to look at her mentor. "You promised! No punishments if I stopped sneaking out of training. You can't go back on that!"

The shock of that revelation gave Woodfern back her voice: "You negotiated with her?"

Lavenderdew's tail lashed, her green eyes flashing between Woodfern and Fluffypaw, as if trying to glare at them both at the same time. "I will not be having anyone critique how I train my apprentice!" Lavenderdew snapped, her voice shrill. "As for you," she said, poking a paw Fluffypaw's direction. "I--ahh--this is hopeless!"

The white molly stalked away, her tail flicking raindrops as she crashed through a line of bushes, utterly ignoring the path the patrol had cleared on their way there. Woodfern was confused and more than a little frustrated with how poorly Lavenderdew seemed to be handling Fluffypaw's insolence, but knew they couldn't remain this deep in the Daylands for long: it was the middle of the Season of Waterwings and the rain had been slowly increasing in intensity. They'd need to get far enough away from the epicenter of the Daylands before they were caught in a storm.

"Grab the squirrel, we can... figure this out when we get back to camp," Woodfern said, moving east, back towards the Daylands. Unlike Lavenderdew, however, the grey spotted warrior led Fluffypaw back following the path.

-.- HERB -.-

"Do you think I'm doing a good job as deputy, Mothpuddle?" Boragebud couldn't help her uncertainty from festering in the silence as the two cats padded out onto the marshes in the wake of a storm. Heavy rains in the Daylands dimmed the Sun, causing everything to appear washed out and grey--overcast. It was a gloomy landscape, which only brought forth gloomier thoughts. "Maplesong was always teaching me. I thought I could spend lifetimes trying to reach her level of wisdom and never come close, but now..."

Boragebud paused, reflecting on the conversation she'd had with her mother earlier that day:

"I don't know why you keep bugging me. You already have the answer."

"Yes, but I want to make sure I'm not missing anything," Boragebud said. "Something you saw that I missed."

"Ha! I'm half-blind now, starflower, I can assure you: your eyes are far keener than mine."

"Mother, I meant in a metaphorical sense."

"Literal, metaphorical, rhetorical. The only place I have you beat is spiritual, and only because half my paws are in MoonClan by now."

"Mother!"

"Ah, just teasing. But you don't need my help with this. Time to walk on your own, starflower. Show 'em what you've got."

Boragebud shivered at Maplesong's words, wishing she could excuse the chill as simply being from the not-quite-fog that settled over the lake. Mothpuddle stopped before the ground could turn to mud around the edge of the lakebed, and started sniffing around the green shoots poking from the wet, rich soil. "You want to know what I think?" the golden healer mewed, and she had the same authority Maplesong had--maybe that ripened with age--but none of the playful softness of her voice, only a cold, hard certainty. "I think MoonClan's rumbles hurt."

"Hurt?" Boragebud asked, taken aback by the direction the healer took. "Hurt who?"

"MoonClan. I think the rumblings are unpleasant for them."

The rumblings of MoonClan were what brought life to the Caverns, what made growing all these herbs possible. It was the growl that kept Night away and led souls to their eternal rest. The thought that the rumbles of stone were unpleasant, that they were painful to MoonClan, even as they were necessary, that keeping DuskClan alive caused their ancestors pain... Boragebud shook her head. It couldn't be.

"It's pain that makes things grow. MoonClan's pain nurtures us, and your pain will nurture you, Boragebud."

The deputy couldn't help it, she laughed. "How is pain anything more than painful?"

"You're feeling pain, yes? Emotional, but that doesn't stop it from hurting, obviously. If you didn't feel that pain, how would you ever feel pressured to improve? To question your own choices, and biases, and then decide to be better?" Mothpuddle said. Even as she spoke, her claws were gently chopping green stalks, stacking them into piles. "Ergo, pain--or fear of future pain--is the motivation to make ourselves better."

-'- BORDER -'-

One might think that the layer of fog that drowned the Dawnlands would make it harder to see the blurry shapes of misty ghosts, but to Ridgeshadow, the fog only amplified their dull glow into that of a small Star. It was distracting: the ghosts didn't interact with the world as three dimensional objects, and one might flash brightly and appear three tail-lengths to the left between the blink of an eye while another walked with its body concealed underground, only visible by a pair of glowing ears and tail that parted the stone like a fish's fin.

This was why Ridgeshadow didn't often go on patrols. It was hard to focus on what mattered when so many ghosts swam through the landscape, flashing and blurring and generally distracting her eyes with their erratic, glowing movement.

But Cavestar had asked her to join on a patrol to the Nightlands, and that was one task Ridgeshadow in particular excelled at. Her ghost sight also gave her the gift of excellent night vision, and the ghosts avoided the Nightlands as much as the Clan cats did. For all she loved her gift, she also appreciated being able to pretend she was normal, if only for a few moments. So when Cavestar came to her at Starfall, Ridgeshadow had allowed the leader to pull her from her secluded den out into DawnClan's territory.

Cavestar didn't attempt conversation, which Ridgeshadow appreciated. What would they say to each other? Ridgeshadow had no interest in the gossip of DawnClan's camp and nothing interesting happened in the little cavern beside the Shattered Maw for Ridgeshadow to share.

It was in this silence and the darkness of the Dimreaches that Ridgeshadow saw the half-faded ghost. She stopped, watching, as the ghost wandered the Dimreaches: it padded in circles, like a cat would, and while it moved Eastward easily, back towards the Nightlands, it seemed to move slowly and jerkily when trying to pad towards the Daylands.

This wasn't how ghosts behaved, ghosts that struggled to escape the gravity of the Sun crystal and basked in its warmth.

Normal ghosts also didn't have any color, grey as mist, but this one painted the floor pink. Ridgeshadow had only seen that once before: when she watched the life fade from a warrior's eyes, their ghost standing and shining pale blue--

"Cavestar, a cat is dying."

Cavestar startled, her tail held tall at attention. "What?"

Ridgeshadow stealthed across the open ground to where the ghost circled, trying to determine which way the spirit was being pulled, the path of least resistance. There. The tortoiseshell molly found the low shelf hidden by the cavern wall and squeezed underneath. "Ridgeshadow!" she heard Cavestar hiss behind her, but she ignored the leader and pressed onward.

She could smell blood, now, sharp on her tongue, and easily followed the smell until she could hear the dying cat's rasping breaths. It was hard to get a grip on the cat, but it helped that she was clearly young and not full grown. As soon as Ridgeshadow touched her nose to the cat's fur, her ghost popped back into the body just as the cat gave a shuddering breath.

At least the ghost--paws stuck in the ginger molly's shoulders and hips--painted the hollow in a pink light so Ridgeshadow could see where she was going.

It was hard to pull the molly along in a crouch, but Ridgeshadow managed. She was glad when she felt Cavestar's claws in her shoulders, helping tug them both free from the crevasse. Cavestar poked at the ginger molly's fur while Ridgeshadow caught her breath. It was disconcerting to see the ghost struggling to break free of the molly's body, stuck half-way inside, so Ridgeshadow looked away.

"Poison, I think," Cavestar mewed. Ridgeshadow heard the leader shake her fur, then a rustle as the leader must have picked up the molly by the scruff. Ridgeshadow led the way back to camp--she didn't want to see the ginger molly's stuck ghost, or, worse, witness the moment when it finally managed to break free as the molly went limp in Cavestar's jaws--

No, she'd survive. Birdspots must know something about pulling poison from a cat's body. She'd survive.

CYPRUSPAW - A ginger mackerel tabby molly with blue eyes and a cyan leather collar. Sincere, careful listener. 8 moons. Sick with redcough. Found half dead in the Nightlands by Ridgeshadow, who was led there by Cyprus's own pale ghost. She is very weak and both Pansypoppy and Birdspots agree that she is unlikely to survive what they believe to be a lethal poison.

-.- CAMP -.-

"There's been a Nightbeast spotted--"

"For all the Stars and standing stones," Cloudheart swore, loud enough to draw most of DuskClan's attention. Furledstar winced as even Mothpuddle poked her head from the healer's ledge to see the commotion. "There's always Nightbeasts, Furledstar. Or did ya forget that we live in the Twilight?"

"No, but--"

"But nothin'," the elder interrupted.

Maplesong rested a tail on Cloudheart's pale shoulder. "He only means to help," Maplesong said. She had the kind of voice that naturally made cats want to be quiet and listen, soothing and melodic. "He wants to keep his Clanmate safe."

For all Maplesong's soft words, Furledstar struggled to keep his hackles from bristling as his mother spoke for him as if he wasn't standing a tail-length away, as if he wasn't DuskClan's leader. The silver tabby tomcat had to bite his tongue and bear it, though, because if anyone had a chance of talking any sense into Cloudheart it would be Maplesong. If his goal was to keep Cloudheart safe--and it was--then logically, he should keep quiet and let his mother handle the Clan's eldest member.

Except: "I didn't think I was a prisoner of my own Clan!"

Furledstar couldn't hold back a small growl at that, the fur on his shoulders bristling. He nearly snapped a sharp response, but surprisingly Mothpuddle of all cats beat him to it. "Acting against the leader's orders is against the Code, Cloudheart," the golden-furred healer said, her voice cold. "Retirement does not mean you can ignore the Code with a wave of your tail."

Cloudheart narrowed her yellow eyes, still sharp despite the molly's age. "I heard no orders."

"Because you kept interrupting!" Mothpuddle hissed back. "If you'd let Furledstar speak, then--" Furledstar stepped between the two, cutting the healer off before she could say something she would later regret. Though, knowing Mothpuddle, he doubted she'd regret anything she said here, no matter how harsh.

"Stop," he said firmly, looking sharply between the two until both took a step away. Cloudheart waddling back to Maplesong's side, Mothpuddle stepping back more gracefully, but also more reluctantly. "Mothpuddle, this doesn't concern you." He could sense the healer opening her mouth to argue and Furledstar turned his back on her so she wouldn't have the opportunity in a clear dismissal. He didn't check to see if she actually left: he found that if he expected a cat to follow his orders with enough confidence, they typically would acquiesce.

Which still left him with his current problem. Cloudheart stood solidly, her eyes narrowed and shoulders set, challenging him to order her to stay in camp. The silence dragged as he weighed his choices. If he ordered her to stay, she'd be safe, but she'd also throw a tantrum and he'd probably have several warriors lined up at his den to complain about it by Starfall. If he let her go, however, she'd know that making a scene would get her what she wants. This wouldn't be the last time they'd be having this argument if he caved to her demands.

"I'll go with her," Maplesong said. "And we'll take Boragebud along with us. If we stick to the Dusklands, we'll be safe enough."

"That's what I said!" Cloudheart huffed.

Furledstar sighed, but he knew it was the best compromise he was going to get. "Fine," he said, just to get this over with. He turned away, his tail flicking sharply behind him. He'd taken too long to make a choice and now Maplesong would think that he needed her to solve all his problems. He'd thought he'd gotten out from under his mother's paw when he was made a leader, then again when she retired.

He held his poise until he stepped through the thin waterfall that hid the leader's den. Once he was well out of sight did he let his frustration explode outward, ripping his nest to shreds, only stopping when the moss was scattered so completely that his claws scraped stone.

The silver tabby leader's breaths heaved as he stood in the middle of the mess. He wanted to screech but though the waterfall's burble could be trusted to drown out regular conversation, he knew anything louder than that would carry to DuskClan's camp beyond. So he stood in silence until his rage burnt itself to its root: shame.

MOON 2

-'- BORDER -'-

Border patrols to the Dimreaches were so boring.

Yeah, they might smell a Nightbeast, but it's not like they were gonna see one. At least not when Fluffypaw was there. She'd never get that lucky.

Besides, it was nearly Zenith: even the Dimreaches were bright with Sunglow, bright enough that Fluffypaw could see the wall of tunnels leading to the Nightlands proper, the cavern wall sloping upward in a gentle arc until it melded with the ceiling above. A few Stars glittered faintly. Unlike some places in DawnClan's territory, no stalactites pointed down like fangs, for which Fluffypaw was grateful. She didn't much like the thought of sharp stones hanging above her head, feeling like she was crawling about in the maw of a massive Nightbeast turned to stone.

She sighed and drifted to the side, exploring a cluster of stones. Lichens grew on their northern face, where the glow of a Star crystal painted the stone pale blue, mottling the dark stone with pale patches. Fluffypaw probably should stay closer to the patrol, but it didn't really matter, did it? The Dimreaches were bright as the Twilight right now, and the terrain here was flat enough that she'd be well within sightlines of the two warriors.

Fluffypaw poked at the lichen and was disappointed when it crumbled to dust under her paw.

Wispfang had made it to the Nightlands border, the grey deputy sniffing cautiously at one of the larger tunnel openings. Lavenderdew was investigating a smaller ledge a few tail-lengths beside him. She must have felt Fluffypaw's eyes, as Lavenderdew looked over her shoulder with a clear order in her eyes.

Well, it wasn't like the lichen-covered stones would be any more interesting than doing her duty at the border. Fluffypaw sighed again, trudging across the cavern floor towards a trio of tunnels, each tall and narrow, barely wide enough for a full-grown cat to fit.

She put her nose to the first slit in the stone, taking a deep breath of stale cave air. Yeah, nothing in there. The second she had to stand on her hind paws to reach, craning her neck to peer into the darkness. This one didn't smell like anything at all: Fluffypaw guessed it wasn't a true tunnel and only went a few tail-lengths deeper than she could see before closing off entirely.

To test this theory, she made a soft click with her teeth. Even kittens knew how to use echoes to judge dark surroundings. Sure enough, the echo came back quickly and solidly: no wavering, no reverberations, no hollowness. It would have been a great hidey-den if, you know, it wasn't practically in the Nightlands. She pushed her paws off the stone and padded to the last narrow tunnel.

This one rent the floor slightly, though narrow enough that it was easy for even Fluffypaw to straddle either side of the gash in the ground. She was disappointed to find that the crevasse wasn't deep, perhaps only a tail-length down. Though it would certainly be nasty to catch a paw in there, especially during the darker half of the Suncycle. She would need to mark this part of the border anyways, and so left scent to warn future patrols of the hazard before peering into the last tunnel.

It was impossible to miss the smell of blood.

Fluffypaw's eyes went wide and she quickly jumped back from the tunnel, nearly catching a paw in the crevasse before catching herself and hopping to the side, her hackles raised. Within a heartbeat Lavenderdew was at her side and Fluffypaw let the white molly put herself between Fluffypaw and the tunnel's entrance. "Nightbeast?" Wispfang asked, and though he was clearly addressing her, his focus was entirely on the dark tunnel in front of them.

"Blood," she replied. "It might be prey-blood, I didn't get a good read."

Lavenderdew blocked Fluffypaw's view, but from over her mentor's shoulder she could see Wispfang cautiously approach the narrow tunnel. "The blood-scent is old," he said. "Perhaps two days? Three? Is this where they found Cypruspaw?"

"It could be," Lavenderdew replied. "But that was more than three Starcycles ago." Fluffypaw gathered her courage and stepped out from behind Lavenderdew, careful not to turn a paw in the crevasse she'd noticed earlier as she came up beside Wispfang. "Fluffypaw! Get away from there!" Lavendersun hissed, but Fluffypaw only flicked an ear and ignored her. Wispfang said the blood-scent wasn't fresh, which she should have realized if she had taken the time to think before reacting.

She parted her jaws. A shift in the cavern currents brought a fresh wave of scent her way. "There's no sign of DawnClan scent, but there is some cat-scent. It's faint." Compared to the strong tang of blood, that is. "I'm going to check it out." Before either warrior could protest, Fluffypaw pushed into the tunnel.

"Fluffypaw!" she heard Lavenderdew hiss from behind her, but she had plenty of practice ignoring her mentor by now. She did, however, keep her ears and nose alert for any odd scents, just in case. But if this had been due to a Nightbeast, they would have scented it at the entrance. Nightbeasts were anything but subtle.

The crevasse got narrower. Fluffypaw had to squeeze through a particularly thin patch, but luckily the tunnel widened back out quickly. She didn't have to get far before she found the dead cat. She grabbed fur in her jaws--it was hard to tell what she was doing in the dark--and started dragging the cat back through the tunnels.

There was no reason to leave a dead thing so close to DawnClan's border, it would only attract Nightbeasts.

It took her a while to get the cat through the narrow portion of the tunnel, but she eventually managed to squeeze through and after that it was easy going. Lavenderdew helped her out once she reached the entrance and between her and Wispfang, managed to get the cat laid out on the stone.

The cat was a pale grey tabby. Their frame suggested they were a rather large cat, but they were so malnourished, they probably weighed less than Fluffypaw did. She wondered, a little morbidly, if their poor health had been due to starvation, or to poison.

Because the cat had certainly died to a Nightbeast wound. The long scratch covered the cat's entire right flank. It didn't look serious enough to be fatal (Fluffypaw herself probably got worse on accident while training) but Nightbeast toxins were diverse and dangerous. From the thick blood scent and the raw edges of the wound, she guessed the Nightbeast's claws were imbued with something that didn't allow the wound to close. Fluffypaw shivered and pushed closer to Lavenderdew.

"How can any cat survive in the Nightlands?" Fluffypaw mewed softly, her eyes stuck on that thin scratch. Such a small wound, but deadly all the same. "Is there another Sun nearby? Even then, why would they ever leave it?"

Lavenderdew pulled her closer, wrapping her tail over Fluffypaw's shoulders, and she allowed her mentor to comfort her, pushing into her familiar scent. "No cat knows. Perhaps Cypruspaw will have answers, once she wakes."

If she wakes, Fluffypaw thought. If this cat's fate was any indication, the Nightlands were anything but merciful. For the first time, Fluffypaw realized she hoped to never run into a Nightbeast. She didn't want to test StarClan's mercy if she needed to fight something that could kill with only a scratch.

-.- HERB -.-

Fireglide was quiet.

For one, it was hard to muster her typical energy when she was soaked to the bone. Secondly, she knew Mothpuddle wasn't the best with keeping up with conversation. But mostly it was because Fireglide was feeling a dull melancholy atypical of her nature, and she didn't know how to deal with the emotions dragging her soul into the stone.

At least the herbs liked the season of waterwings and she had no trouble keeping her paws busy, plucking leaves from the lush thyme sprigs in the way Mothpuddle demonstrated. The healer was a tree-length away, digging up burdock roots. Fireglide didn't envy her the task: a cat could mistake Mothpuddle for a tortoiseshell with how much dark mud she had caked onto her stomach and legs.

It was different, working in silence. The pattering of raindrops on leaves was deafening and made her fur prickle. She had to constantly fight the urge to shake the rainwater from her fur--it wouldn't help if she did, it would only waste time and energy that Fireglide, surprisingly, didn't have to spare.

She knew Mothpuddle had noticed her abnormal silence. The healer's dark blue eyes flicked up periodically, her brow furrowed in confusion. After the fourth or fifth instance, Fireglide sighed, put the last of the thyme stems in a pile, and let herself shake the rain from her pelt, if only to break the pattern. "I'm just thinking, Mothpuddle. I can think, you know."

Mothpuddle stopped what she was doing as well, scoffing. "That's more than a think."

Fireglide rolled her eyes. "I guess I just realized... I'm worried for DuskClan's future." Mothpuddle's eyes narrowed, but the molly didn't push her to explain any further, though her ears were tipped Fireglide's direction when she started working again, signaling that she was available to listen if the warrior wished to speak. And now that she'd spoken, it would be impossible to keep the rest in. "We lost so many cats to the Nightbeast pack. So many young cats. Yarrowflight, Pinespeck, Icicleclaw." Then, quieter, with an ache in her heart: "Sneezestar. Ponddusk."

Mothpuddle went still as Fireglide named the dead, only the raindrops filling the hush that fell between them, like the breaths of the fallen come to whisper their names. "I feel like... like the streambed is collapsing and we can't fill in the gaps, not quickly enough. And all the water is draining out."

Mothpuddle picked up the leaf holding her muddy burdock roots and brought them to Fireglide's side. "I know it feels dire, but DuskClan has survived far greater tragedies than this," the old healer said, pushing the gathered thyme stems into another package to carry back to camp. "Yes, DuskClan is small. But DawnClan is only just beginning to recover from the war as well. These things take time. And Fireglide," Mothpuddle mewed as she finished tying the bundle together and looked up, her dark eyes sharp. "No cat expects you to be responsible for the entirety of DuskClan. The only thing you should be focusing on is your warrior duties: hunting, fighting, protecting."

Fireglide opened her mouth to speak, but Mothpuddle turned and slipped her tail across the tortoiseshell's nose. "It is not your responsibility, Fireglide."

She picked up the herb bundle, biting back her response. Because nothing she could say, nothing Mothpuddle could say, would make Fireglide feel any better about her past choices, her past mistakes. Because she and Ponddusk had thought they'd live forever, and only after he was taken from her did she realize she had nothing left of him but memories.

-'- BORDER -'-

Dark, shiny, like the fuzz on a mole. That was the first thing Cavestar thought as the Nightbeast reared up in front of her. Then the other details started to filter in: the two pairs of single-clawed limbs--more prehensile spikes than legs--clicked against stone while the Beast's slender body balanced on at least ten other multi-jointed legs, thicker and with wide, fleshy toes.

It was eyeless. But that only left more space for the mouth: a slash of teeth, a curling tongue lolling as it hissed, growled and keened in a layered cacophony. Its pointed snout pointed at Cavestar like an arrow. It knew she was there.

The Nightbeast was larger than her. This meant she had a chance.

Cavestar shot into the Nightlands, earning a few precious seconds as the Nightbeast contorted its legs to fit through the narrow gap she'd chosen. She heard its carapace crunch against the stone, its legs shick-shish-hiss, its mandibles snick-clap.

She was running blind.

Sight was not a very valuable sense in the Caverns, but even so, lacking it entirely put her at a severe disadvantage. Cavestar screwed her eyes shut, focusing entirely on the feeling of stone streaking past her whiskers, the changing pressure over the sensitive fur inside her ears. She ran as fast as she dared, but it wasn't enough: in the darkness, the sound of the Nightbeast was a rockslide growing ever closer.

The wind shifted, a crossbreeze hitting twisting her chest fur. Left!

She trusted her instincts and dove into the branching tunnel, praying that the nook was large enough, deep enough, to evade the monster on her tail. Stone pushed against her flanks and she bashed her head against something before her nose led her to the opening.

Clack! The sound of the Nightbeast's jaws rang in her ears and the howl that followed deafened her. Cavestar added her own screech to the mix and clawed her way forward, wriggling her hips to fit through the narrow tunnel her shoulders just barely squeezed through.

She didn't stop. Tail-length after tail-length, Cavestar wriggled deeper into the crevasse. She was confident the Nightbeast was too large to fit inside, but she wanted to be far away from the reach of those spindly legs.

"Thank StarClan," the DawnClan leader breathed as the tunnel opened up slightly, enough that she could crawl instead of squeeze. Only after a full minute did she finally stop, curling against the stone wall, her breaths heavy and her pelt hot.

Hot?

Only then did she catch the smell of blood, a sour taste in her mouth. She didn't feel pain, but the blood-scent was undeniably hers. "Numbing. Venom," Cavestar said. Already her voice was mumbled, her tongue heavy in her mouth. The wave of exhaustion that passed through her body was more than what she'd expect from an adrenaline crash and was followed by a wave of heat.

At least it doesn't hurt, she thought, her eyes slipping shut. I thought losing a life would hurt.

Light.

White washed over Cavestar. At first it was featureless, empty, but then... Dark outlines of cats faded into the edges of her vision, blurring into invisibility when she looked at them directly. She let her eyes lose focus in the endless horizon and only then could she see the StarClan cat approach her, it's pale figure bright with Sunlight, contained by only a thin sketch of black like an inverted corona.

"Cavestar." The voice was singular and plural--it was Morningstar's voice, familiar as her own; it contained infinity. "I was hoping I'd only see you once you'd chosen to stay."

She desperately wanted to look. Her brother approached, his wispy fur trailing black outlines like smoke. He blurred a bit as her eyes tried to look at him and it was only with great willpower--and desperation--that she managed to turn her head to the side. She drank in what little she could see of his image, even if she could only witness him indirectly. "Morningstar, I--" Her voice choked. Something in her soul yearned for this place, keened and sang and pulled. "I'm sorry, brother, but DawnClan still needs me."

He stepped closer. Other figures wandered close on his paws, crowding the white expanse with their thin, black shadows, but all stayed behind Morningstar as he approached. "I know you do," he said with a purr. As his figure grew more solid, so did his voice: the echoes of faded cats disappeared, leaving only his, like honey in her ears. "I've waited years. I can wait a bit longer." He closed the gap. A wisp of his scent hit her nose, soft as spring rains, and Cavestar couldn't hold herself back anymore. She turned and looked.

For a singular, star-struck moment, Morningstar was there, right in front of her, like she remembered him. His fur like sunlight, his eyes sparkling with mirth and love, and--

"Ah, you never did learn how to control your impulses, have you?" Morningstar said, his voice shattering into octaves even as his body blurred, the black smoke of his outline jumping under her gaze. A flash of a grin moved like static across a nearly featureless face. Before he faded entirely, Morningstar reached forward and touched his nose to hers.

"Go." A voice said, and though Cavestar could hear her brother's voice within, it was no longer entirely his.

The StarClan cats faded, falling back into the bright, white nothing. "Wait for me, Morningstar," she said softly, and then she closed her eyes.

Darkness.

Cavestar groaned as she came to. She hadn't felt any pain when the Nightbeast's venom claimed her life--or one of her lives--but now everything ached. The leader was shaky as she pulled herself to her paws, but it wasn't so bad that she needed to rest. In fact, she felt a little drowsy and off-kilter, like she'd overslept. She yawned. That helped a little, snapping her thoughts back into line.

She needed to get out of the Nightlands before something else found her.

Cool air flowed down the tunnel in the direction she was facing and since she wasn't keen on retracing her pawsteps into the Nightbeast's jaws, Cavestar decided that she'd push forward. The tunnel sloped slightly upward and she thought it was skewed left, back towards the Caverns, but she couldn't be sure. At the very least, cool air continued to bring fresh air across her muzzle and the tunnel slowly but surely grew less cramped. It wasn't long before she was able to crouch, then walk without issue.

Cavestar's confidence grew as she padded forward. She hadn't gone very far into the Nightlands when she was being chased, so... yes! There! Light! It was dim, but unmistakable: against the utter black was a smudge of grey. Hope pushed the last of the lethargy from her paws and Cavestar sped up, moving as fast as she dared without risking injury in the darkness.

She sighed in relief when she could finally make out the end of the tunnel. Even the pale light of the Dimreaches looked as bright as the Daylands to her sense-deprived eyes, and she came to the lip of the tunnel in nearly a sprint. Only when she hopped out, reveling in DawnClan's familiar scent-marks, did she realize that this particular tunnel was familiar: it was the same one Fluffypaw, Lavenderdew and Wispfang had found the dead loner earlier that moon.

The deputy had led Cavestar to it after, when they'd searched the area more thoroughly for hints of where the dead cat had come from or signs of the Nightbeast that had killed them. They hadn't found anything, then.

Now, Cavestar supposed she had a good idea of what had happened to the poor cat.

-.- HUNTING -.-

Boragebud took a moment to stretch. The Sunglow pierced the canopy of evergreen needles, soaking her fur in warmth for the first time since the Galwings had perched in the Sunroost last year. And the prey loved the turning of the season too.

She stashed her silver finch between the twisted roots of a white cedar. Her finch joined two other small birds and Plumstripe’s rather impressive catch: a mink. The sable-furred mustelid wasn’t the best for eating, but the elders would certainly be arguing over who most deserved its soft pelt for their nest.

She had to kick some pine needles over top to fully conceal the fresh-kill hidden there. One more catch, she decided, and then they could return to DuskClan’s camp with their bounty.

The deputy was just about to turn and find one last promising spot for another bird when she saw Plumstripe’s russet pelt dashing across the open coniferous forest towards her. Ever worried, at first her eyes tracked to the space behind him, looking for Nightbeasts or Dawnclanners in pursuit--even if they were solidly within the heart of DuskClan’s territory--and only once she was certain the tomcat was alone did she notice his gait and expression were gleeful, not fearful.

“Starseeds!” Plumstripe shouted.

Boragebud left their prey stash behind, leaping to join him. They could always find more prey, but starseeds! “How far?”

“Just over the hill.”

The two cats raced over the soft carpet of fallen needles, Boragebud only a half-step behind as Plumstripe led the way. She gasped a breath when she saw the burrow: a shaded, ragged hole in the soil and stone, exposed on the shallow incline.

Within the shattered, gray stones glittered not one, not two, but three pale blue gemstones, pulsing with a faint light. Beside her, Plumstripe grinned. “What a way to start the year, eh?” he mewed, bright with excitement.

Boragebud crouched beside the burrow and reached her paw down into the fallen stones, scooping the first starseed free. It was warm against her paw-pad, almost uncomfortably so, but she didn’t dare drop something so precious. “Three,” she said, disbelieving. “MoonClan honors us.” She carefully set the starseed onto the dirt. Even in the bright Sunglow, its pale blue shine wasn’t dampened.

The second one was about the same size as the first, but the third was so large that she had to carefully curl her claws around the faceted edge to keep it balanced as she brought it out of the burrow. Boragebud carefully prodded the other pebbles in the burrow, just in case there were any other starseeds hiding there, but if one of the stones had any glow, it was too faint for her to see.

“Fireglide is gonna be so jealous,” Plumstripe said, touching the largest starseed with a gentle paw.

“Everyone will be. Good find, Plumstripe.”

The russet tomcat dipped his head, licking at his chest in embarrassment. “I was just in the right place at the right time.”

Ideally, they’d have a hide satchel to bring the starseeds home, but neither of them had thought to bring one on a hunting patrol on the very edge of the Daylands. Barring that, sycamore or burdock leaves would also do a fine job, but both of those plants would only be found to the south, closer to the Horizon.

What they had close at paw was less than ideal: skunk cabbage. Boragebud left Plumstripe to guard the three stones and made her way down to the bottom of the hill, where a rill wound between the conifers and the marshy ground was green with the stinky plant. She wrinkled her nose at the smell as she nipped two large leaves free at the base, shaking the mud from her paws as she quickly trotted back.

She made Plumstripe carry the foul package back. “Because you’re the one who found the starseeds,” she said, “you can have the honor of bringing them home.”

They left the cache of prey behind. She could come back for it later, but for now, escorting the three starseeds to DuskClan’s camp was the highest priority.

-'- CAMP -'-

Starfall: the only time DawnClan’s camp grew as dim as the twilight surrounding it, when the rainbow of Starshine faded and the brightest light came from the distant Sun crystal, painting the stone in an even, amber glow.

It was also the time Boulderkit was supposed to take his nap.

“But I’m nearly an apprentice now!” the pale kitten whined, scampering away from his nest. He hunkered beneath a jutting Star crystal and even at Starfall, it had enough of a glow to tint his pale fur rose.

“And that’s how I know you need a nap,” Birdspots growled. “Any apprentice would love to have an excuse to sleep.”

“But I just woke up! I wanna--”

Birdspots cuffed the kit over the ear, cutting his complaining short before he could really get into it. “No buts. It’s time for your nap, and if you’re not in that nest by the time I leave, I’ll tell Cavestar to postpone your apprenticeship.”

“But Birdspots,” Boulderkit whined.

She didn’t have to raise her paw again, a glare was enough to silence him. “It will take me twelve pawsteps to get to the den entrance. I’d get moving if I were you,” she said, already starting towards the gap in the crystals. A squeak and claws scratching against stone told her the kitten was at least moving somewhere, but she didn’t turn to check until she reached the edge of the nursery.

All she could see of Boulderkit by then was his pale ears poking from the thick mound of feathers and moss the kitten called a nest. “Spoiled kit,” Birdspots muttered, leaving the nursery and heading towards the healer’s den. Boulderkit would be asleep in seconds, probably, and if he wasn’t, well that wasn’t her problem anymore. She didn’t know how the others could have let the orphaned kit grow so insolent.

It was probably Redstem’s doing. Hopefully Cavestar would assign Boulderkit to him, then he could reap what he’d sown.

DawnClan’s camp was quiet at Starfall. All warriors knew how to use the relative darkness in the Caverns to their advantage: some took the opportunity to catch up on sleep while others hunted in the Twilight. Birdspots didn’t see a single DawnClan cat as she padded up the slight incline, parted the draping vines with the casual ease of years of familiarity, and slipped under the golden-hued Star into the soft, yellow glow of the healer’s den.

Here, in the one den where, for many, many years, silence was Birdspots’ usual companion, there was conversation.

“There are two Clans. This is DawnClan, like I said earlier, but the other is DuskClan. They live on the western side of the Horizon,” Pansypoppy said. Birdspots followed his voice and saw the small, golden molly propped up against the side of her nest, her blue eyes fever-bright but lucid for the first time since they’d taken her in. “There’s light here. From these Stars but also from the Sun crystal, so that trees and plants can grow underneath and prey thrives. Did you have light where you lived, Cyprus?”

So that was the molly’s name. She must have been well enough to introduce herself to Pansypoppy when she woke up. Usually that would be a good sign, but Birdspots knew redcough, had watched every cat lose their fight to it. The retired healer wished Cyprus hadn’t woken back up at all--better a quick and painless end.

Pansypoppy noticed her, the grey tom’s face bright with a smile. “Cyprus, this is Birdspots. She was DawnClan’s healer before me and taught me everything I know. She’s been helping take care of you while you were asleep.”

He’s still too gentle for this type of work, Birdspots thought, wrinkling her nose. But she dipped her head politely and padded up to her former apprentice to loaf beside him. It took a few long moments for her bones to creak into place. “How do you feel, Cyprus?”

“Cold.” The orange molly’s voice was a low croak. Beside her, Pansypoppy shot to his paws.

“That’s the fever,” Birdspots answered. “We’ll try to keep you comfortable, but there’s not much we can do until the fever breaks.” A rustle from the corner, a muffled thump of pelts hitting stone along with Pansypoppy’s low muttering. Familiar sounds that Birdspots relaxed into, enough to give Cyprus a small smile. “Don’t let Pansypoppy keep you up too long. You need rest more than anything to get better.”

Her former apprentice returned, a thick and rugged beaver pelt across his shoulders and a bowl of water in his jaws. Birdspots watched as he nudged the water close enough for the sick molly to drink while he covered her with the old pelt, satisfied that he left it lopsided and breathable, carefully positioned so she wouldn’t overheat when the hot flashes of her fever struck.

Her old bones creaked louder when rising from the stone, but she didn’t mind moving slowly, waiting until Cyprus was thoroughly situated in the nest before dipping her head. “It’s good to meet you, Cyprus. I’ll leave you to rest now.”

She flicked her tail as she left the healer’s den and a few moments later Pansypoppy joined her. “I swear that pelt is older than you,” he muttered, shaking dark beaver fur from his pale pelt. “If there’s ever a chance to invade DuskClan’s marshes, tell Cavestar that we could use another beaver.”

“She’s not going to survive.” Pansypoppy stiffened, but Birdspots wasn’t going to apologize for her bluntness.

“She woke up. That’s a good sign.”

Birdspots narrowed her eyes. “It’s redcough. No cat has ever lived through it. Not once.”

Pansypoppy rarely grew upset, but he’d always been protective of his patients. “I still might find the answer! I’m not going to give up on her,” he hissed, his tail flicking in a low sweep.

At that, Birdspots let her gaze soften, touching the other healer’s ear with her nose. She had to reach up, now, to give that comfort. “I never said that,” she mewed. “But healers from both Clans have been trying, failing, to find a cure for hundreds of years. It wouldn’t be your fault if--”

“I know that!”

“I don’t think you do,” Birdspots said. “You blamed yourself for Ivyseeker and Lotuspaw. You still blame yourself for Featherstreak.”

“She shouldn’t have died,” Pansypoppy gritted, his anger hollowed by grief, fragile.

She’d had this argument with him before. But redcough was fickle, particularly in young cats: Cyprus could die this moon, or she could hold on for another year. Birdspots might not be around to help Pansypoppy through another death, she had to be certain he understood. Birdspots pushed. “So you’re saying you weren’t trying your best? That there was more you could have done, but you chose not to?”

“Of course not!”

“If you had failed them out of negligence or malice, I would have never let you forget it. Their deaths would stain your paws,” she said, darkly. “But you did everything you could. The rest is in StarClan’s paws, as it always has been and always will be.”

Birdspots stepped forward and pushed her head under Pansypoppy’s chin. Then she admitted something she’d never told any cat before: “I remember every cat that died under my paws. Their names are heavy, but we should carry them with honor, not with guilt.”

He rested his head on hers with a sigh. He didn’t respond, but that was okay. She knew she’d gotten through to him, at least a little. Behind them, the golden Star crystal that sheltered the healer’s den grew brighter as Starfall lifted.

-.- CAMP -.-

“Foggypaw!” The grey apprentice looked up from where he slogged behind Gingerstorm. He’d been caught in his own head, so it wasn’t until he saw Maplesong waving her tail his way that he retroactively connected the call with the elder’s distinctive voice. Foggypaw glanced back towards Gingerstorm, but his mentor stomped into the warrior’s den without pausing, a clear dismissal, so he shrugged and turned his own course towards the elder’s den.

Maplesong smiled as he approached. “Have you eaten?” When he shook his head, she pushed half a magpie in his direction. “Good. Cloudheart’s eyes are bigger than her stomach and it would be a shame if this went to waste.”

Foggypaw’s stomach rumbled at the sight of food--he hadn’t eaten since before he and Gingerstorm left to train, well before Starfall, and it was nearly Zenith now--and he tucked in with gusto, prompting a shared laugh from the pair of elders.

“Now then, what’s gotten you so glum?” Maplesong mewed once he’d slowed down a bit. The dark molly had settled into a bed of soft moss beside the Hearth, backlit by fire and bathed in warmth, her chartreuse eyes given an amber cast by the flames. “I’d expect Tulippaw to come home quietly, but not you.”

Foggypaw licked his lips and hooked a white-tipped feather from his cheek. He groomed his paws of prey-blood, stalling while he gathered his thoughts and tried to control his emotions. He couldn’t speak too poorly of Gingerstorm (she was his mentor, one of the Clans only warriors, the leader’s crush) but he was so angry. “I don’t understand why I couldn’t have Plumstripe for a mentor, or Boragebud,” he finally settled on. “Gingerstorm doesn’t want an apprentice! She’s hardly trained me at all, and when she does take me out for a lesson… it’s like she expects me to be teaching her. Everything I know, I’ve had to figure out for myself or tag along with Tulippaw on his lessons!”

He winced, pulling his head and paws into himself. He hadn’t meant to say so much, but it was hard to keep it all from tumbling out. “I’ve been trying so hard,” Foggypaw finished, softly, his ears pushed down. He couldn’t meet Maplesong’s eyes and buried his muzzle in his shoulder, immediately regretting everything he’d said. He should have just said it was nothing and tried to cheer up: he’d learn this week’s lessons from Fluffypaw, and he was set to patrol with Boragebud who always helped him figure things out he struggled with on his own. It wasn’t that bad that his mentor would rather storm out of the training hollow instead of telling him what he’d done wrong, he could deal with that.

“Foggypaw.” He pulled his head up. “Have you spoken to Furledstar about this?” Maplesong’s lyrical voice was soothing, at least, and Foggypaw managed to sit up.

“A little,” Foggypaw admitted. It was why he was allowed to tag onto Tulippaw’s training sessions with the leader a few times a Suncycle. “He said Gingerstorm needed to have an apprentice and that being around my cheerfulness was good for her.” He drooped again, guilt souring the magpie he’d just eaten. “I don’t think it’s working, though.”

The harsh sigh from Maplesong startled Foggypaw, and he looked up with wide eyes. “My son is a light-addled idiot,” Maplesong said with venom, catching the apprentice off guard.

Beside her, Cloudheart chuckled, the pale molly stretching across the moss before pulling her limbs in to loaf. “Ah, Furledstar’s lucky he’s out on patrol,” Cloudheart mewed, her voice raspy in comparison with Maplesong’s honey tones. “Don’t worry, young’un. We’ll get you sorted out.”

Foggypaw panicked. “Please don’t! It’s alright, it’s not that bad, really, and--”

“Nonsense,” Maplesong mewed, cutting him off. “An apprentice should not be responsible for fixing Gingerstorm’s black mood. Even if you could, which you can’t. No cat can. Furledstar should know this. For shame that he would ruin an apprentice’s training for such a stupid, brainless idea!”

Foggypaw felt both frightened and oddly validated as Maplesong grew more and more upset on his behalf. When she finally ran out of steam and slumped back in her nest, he was relieved. “Now then, while you’re here you might as well do something helpful,” Maplesong mewed, her voice cheery and sweet, as if the elder hadn’t been spitting curses only moments ago. “Go be a dear and get some mouse-bile from Mothpuddle. My pelt is crawling with ticks.”

“It’s all Mothpuddle’s doing,” Cloudheart grumbled. “I asked for fresh, but I know she pulled that moss from the back of her stores. It’s probably been back there for years! If I’d known she wasn’t able to follow simple instructions, I would have gathered fresh materials myself!”

“I’m sure she didn’t give us tick-ridden moss on purpose,” Maplesong mewed. The exaggerated sincerity of her tone made Foggypaw think her kind words were just as accusatory as her denmate’s.

Foggypaw jumped to his paws. He certainly knew how to do camp chores properly, at least. “I’ll get some! And me ‘n Tulippaw will get you fresh moss too. He should be back soon.” Along with his mentor, Furledstar, who Foggypaw had accidentally set Maplesong on. He tried not to feel too bad about that.

He grabbed the remains of the magpie, dropping it off at the midden on the way to the healer’s den. Foggypaw had always liked DuskClan’s healer’s den: located behind the northern waterfall, it felt like a hidden secret shared among his Clanmates, and he liked the way the water misted on his fur as he ducked into the cove set behind the small tumbling creek. What he didn’t like so much was that the den nearly always contained Mothpuddle.

“If you sprained a paw, it’ll have to wait,” the golden molly snapped. The hide in front of her was stained red and Foggypaw startled before realizing it was berry juice, not blood, that leaked from between the healer’s claws.

“Just here to pick up some mouse bile for the elder’s ticks.”

Mothpuddle huffed. “Well, you know where it’s at. Use only as much as you need. I’m running low.”

Foggypaw did, in fact, know where the mouse bile was kept: an oblong clay container at the far end of DuskClan’s herb stock. It was the only thing Mothpuddle ever let him touch in the den, so he knew how to gently lift the lid, dip a scrap of moss inside (carefully, so none of it touched his face), and close it with his paws.

He hurried back to the elders, eager to put the bile-soaked moss down and away from his nose, and noticed Plumstripe loitering beside Cloudheart. “I can’t believe DawnClan fought a war against themselves! All that Star-gazing stuff scrambles their heads, I swear.”

“DawnClan always had their Passions,” Cloudheart mewed. “They burn fast and quick, like Starshine.” Foggypaw, eager to hear a new story from the elder, sprinted over so he wouldn’t miss it. He crouched and silently started working the ticks out of Maplesong’s pelt. “And Morningstar was naive. He thought he could resolve the schism in his Clan with pretty words and Sunglow. His own deputy took three of his lives before he realized talking wasn’t gonna be enough, and that he needed to rally what support he could before the Clan collapsed into anarchy.

“DuskClan controlled the entire Daylands that year. It was a good and prosperous time to be a DuskClan warrior, certainly! If DawnClan’s fighting hadn’t happened in the season of Snowbirds, DuskClan might have tried to take the Dawnlands too. Perhaps it was their StarClan’s intervention, ‘cuz the Snowbirds were particularly active that year, and even the Twilight was covered in snow. I argued to push forward anyways, while DawnClan was weak, but it is DuskClan’s way to wait patiently just as it’s DawnClan’s way to leap quickly. To be fair, at the time it looked like we could sit back and let DawnClan destroy itself without risking a snagged claw.

“Then Morningstar died and Cavestar took over the loyalist party.” Cloudheart shook her head. In the pause, Maplesong shifted so Foggypaw could reach her other side and he ferreted out another tick, glad the story distracted him from the uncomfortable smell of bile as he worked. “And, well, you know Cavestar. After she was through with it, DawnClan was half the size, but united. They let us have the Daylands uncontested that spring and summer while they gathered their strength, but there wasn’t a good chance for DuskClan to push into their Twilight after that.”

“It isn’t meant to be,” Maplesong mewed. “DuskClan has the Dusklands, and DawnClan has the Dawnlands. Besides, even MoonClan doesn’t want the Dawnlands: their stone grows no moss and hardly any plants cover their walls. Barren and cold, the Dawnlands are worthless really. DawnClan can keep it.”

“But why did they fight each other?” Plumstripe asked.

“Ha! Who knows? Does it even matter?” Foggypaw thought it might. Cloudheart and Plumstripe started a debate over possible reasons for internal wars, with Maplesong chiming in whenever their theories grew too outlandish. Foggypaw, for his part, resolved to ask Fluffypaw about it next time he saw the DawnClan apprentice.

-'- HERB -'-

Water-slick stone could be treacherous, but Pansypoppy was perfectly happy to take his time crossing the rivulets and streams spiderwebbing across the Dawnlands. The Waterwings were beginning to leave the Sunroost, creating ephemeral rivers in the Twilight with their passing. For now, only solitary individuals or mated pairs made lonesome creeks beneath their wings, but soon the flock would take flight, one last torrential storm that would encapsulate the entire Caverns system and flood even the Dimreaches with heavy rain.

DawnClan’s healer was not looking forward to that, but he was looking forward to the few days between seasons, after the Waterwings had left but the Firebirds had yet to fly in, leaving the Sunroost empty and the Daylands gloriously mild.

He liked the Season of Waterwings and the promises of growth and warmth the birds brought, but Pansypoppy was getting a little tired of collecting herbs while soaked to the bone.

Pansypoppy carefully padded across water-dark stone, cutting a perpendicular path across the Waterwing’s trail even if it took him slightly out of his way to do so. He aimed north, where a tail of conifer forest reached far into the Dawnlands: not only was the wild garlic he sought plentiful there as anywhere else, but he’d appreciate the thick bed of loamy soil to anchor his paws and the roof of needles to keep him (relatively) dry as he went about his task. The Daylands were in a state of constant rainfall as the Waterwings prepared to migrate and would only grow more and more intense until the exodus reached its climax.

The evergreens snuck up on him, hidden behind a tall, jagged cliffside. One moment, all he could see was grey-and-tan layered stone, then water was spitting in his face, the Caverns evergreen as far as the eye could see. The silver healer quickly took cover under the canopy of needles and continued north until he reached a well-trod path that would take him the direction he needed.

It was easy going, slightly downhill, and it wasn’t long before Pansypoppy found the garlic he was looking for. He saw them before he smelled them: patches of grass-like green stalks growing like whiskers from the dark loam in the valley below. There was plenty, thank StarClan, and the healer hurried down to start his work.

He hoped the wild garlic would help pull the toxins from Cypruspaw’s lungs.

Pansypoppy focused his collecting on the stalks, snipping them part-way to the base so they had a chance to grow back. The root bulbs were more potent, however, so he did take the time to dig up enough to fit within the single squirrelskin pouch he brought with him.

Maybe he could convince Cavestar to allow him to trade herbs for hides this season, though he tempered his expectations with the knowledge that they’d never put forth a trade in his lifetime, and so were unlikely to barter with DuskClan for as long as Cavestar was in charge. Wispfang was a more practical cat, but for Cavestar, the rivalry between the two Clans meant too much to her to put aside, even if the historic trade of goods was mutually beneficial.

Pansypoppy thought the trade of pelts for herbs would be favored by DawnClan: the herbs they gave to DuskClan could only be used once, after all, and were only potent for a few seasons, but the pelts and hides they received could be used for generations, if cared for properly.

To prevent the trade for nothing more than Cavestar’s pride was… he didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t like it. Pansypoppy curled his lip, and not because the garlic stalks were bitter. Or not just because of that, at least. He made do with tying the bundle of stalks with a sturdy twine, tight enough that they wouldn’t slip free, and turned back home.

-.- BORDER -.-

It was

-'- HUNTING -'-

"We

Genderqueer Brownie dragonforce is edible inspiration Pronouns: they/them	-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 6, 2024 21:16:42 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Brownie on Apr 6, 2024 21:16:42 GMT -5 save for moons 3

Genderqueer Brownie dragonforce is edible inspiration Pronouns: they/them	-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 6, 2024 21:16:53 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Brownie on Apr 6, 2024 21:16:53 GMT -5 one more just in case idk

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 6, 2024 21:19:07 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Apr 6, 2024 21:19:07 GMT -5

okay, good to go.

I'll reorganize the Lore Drop later, as well as make the layout a little less ugly. But it serves it's purpose rn and that's all that matters. Anyways, Caverns reboot!!! This was my all time FAVORITE Clangen worldbuild, but I lost the file when moving computers and versions and I was very sad! So I'm going to give it another go, with a DawnClan and DuskClan in the future!

So yeah, uh. These moons take a WHile to write, because I do every event... for two Clans... so yeah, it's a bit slow but it's super cool and super fun!! I'm gonna jump right into it!

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 6, 2024 21:37:18 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Apr 6, 2024 21:37:18 GMT -5

Clangen updater working as intended -challenge impossible

-long update but hey xp

DawnClan's allegiances are up. I'm debating how I want to do the moon updates... I kinda want to use the sprites and like, Clan check-ins for the relationships and statuses? But I don't know how I can make that look smooth.
Anyways, they're done. I also edited the file so their only neighboring Clan is DuskClan the cunning. Oh, DawnClan is supposed to be "stoic" (as per my last run) and then automatically generated with that trait!! Crazy!!

BRO my DuskClan cat gen ALSO had a healer trait!!! I never get healers on my original gen!!!
And DuskClan had so many cats with the "swimming" traits like !!!! It can't get better!!
There's DuskClan. Unlike DawnClan, who has no surviving family between them, DuskClan has some family lines:

Maplesong is mother to Furledstar and Boragebud (they genned two moons apart and with the same eye color as Maplesong!)
Foggypaw and Tulippaw are littermates (they genned at the same age!)

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 7, 2024 0:00:20 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Apr 7, 2024 0:00:20 GMT -5

Okay, moon 0 outlined.

I haven't figured out a style for this yet? or if I'm going to write EVERY patrol, or just the important ones? Idk. I usually fold the relationship interactions and thought bubbles into the patrol dialogue, or make a single scene in camp for a tangle of relationship pips. Maybe that will still work here? idk. Adding the images takes so much work but I think it's worth it tbh. Anyways, gonna go eat and maybe update them one at a time later. (I have a google doc of notes and stuff for what scenes are going where; I think yall will like the end three, they connect hehe

Genderqueer Brownie dragonforce is edible inspiration Pronouns: they/them	-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 7, 2024 3:16:07 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Brownie on Apr 7, 2024 3:16:07 GMT -5 One scene tonight. Mothpuddle is such a great cat I love her to bits //smushes. also long, but I wanted to set up some of the visuals for the season ;-;

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 7, 2024 14:03:43 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Apr 7, 2024 14:03:43 GMT -5

Added some highlights and colors to the overview sections.
Working on more patrol scenes <3

Hunting patrol. I can't wait for the real moons; it's hard doing this without the thought bubble or relationship pips to help out a bit. Like, what else should I write for a failed hunting patrol???

Training patrol up. Tulippaw is a cute boy and I love him so much. I wish my writing was a little more to the point and not so rambly, but I also really, really want to describe the scenery so like. yeah.

DawnClan herb gathering patrol up. Half way thereeeeee 4 down 4 to go. Each are ~1k words. Which will mean like. 10k moons. OH NO. Welllp that's what it takes for art ;-;
Also Ridgeshadow is a baby and I love her? They are all so cute?? I love Pansypoppy too, he's so kind.

+ DuskClan hunting patrol. The girls get a duck, but Plumstripe is the real MVP. Also ducks are like? really big? kinda? compared to cats at least. She's gonna STRUGGLE taking that home lmao

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 8, 2024 15:42:44 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Apr 8, 2024 15:42:44 GMT -5

+ DawnClan training with Lavenderdew and Fluffypaw. Why is she being so horrid? The last two parts should explain!

+ DuskClan training with Gingerstorm and Foggypaw. The pieces fall into place...
What do you think Cavestar and Wispfang are going to discover on their patrol....

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 8, 2024 18:29:54 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Apr 8, 2024 18:29:54 GMT -5

moon 0 is completely finished with all eight patrols!
Total word count: 6,363. bonus points for good symmetry. Also wow yeah this is going to be a Project if each moon is that length or longer... but hey, it's the Caverns, I'm always down to write more for this epic cave world (;

Also yes!! All three apprentices had "distracted" training patrols. Tulippaw got the cute outcome, where his mentor cuddles and reassures him and it was very cute. Foggypaw got one I might have never seen before, where his mentor is the one that can't remember what to do and so the patrol goes home frustrated. which, for Gingerstorm, is very fitting. And Fluffypaw was distracted but refused to tell her mentor anything about why.

And then Wispfang and Cavestar's border patrol encountered a DuskClan apprentice on the border... I pressed do not proceed, for plot reasons, because by that point I decided I wanted Foggypaw and Fluffypaw to be sneaking out to visit each other this moon, and that was a great scene! And it wouldn't make sense for DawnClan to steal an apprentice from DawnClan? At least not this early. It would have been interesting, though, if I didn't have it steal either Foggypaw or Tulippaw, but have an extra cat genned on moon 0 that switched Clans for drama reasons... but nah, not yet. Maybe next time.

Anyways, I FINALLY get to hit next moon on this. YEEET

Genderqueer Brownie dragonforce is edible inspiration Pronouns: they/them	-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Apr 11, 2024 17:01:26 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Brownie on Apr 11, 2024 17:01:26 GMT -5 Moon 1 outlined, gonna start the scenes tonight~ DuskClan border done. I don't like the pacing but eh.

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Jun 15, 2024 0:14:20 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Jun 15, 2024 0:14:20 GMT -5

an update? Who would have thought uh.......
have a DawnClan herb gathering patrol and most of a DuskClan hunting/uh-oh Foggypaw got caught patrol. I can finish the dialogue tomorrow I am sleepy and sick :(

also yes, in DuskClan, StarClan is a bad place and is def a curse word lmaooo
the dichotomy of StarClan/MoonClan in the Caverns is much like the concept of doggy heaven/squirrel hell meme. The opposite Clan's resting grounds is literally the "bad place"/Dark Forest for their Clan. Imagine being judged as bad and having to live the rest of your afterlife with all your blood enemies' dead kin. Big yikes.

I'm debating there being an "evil evil" place where BOTH Clans are like. Yeah that's where the Murderers Go. Cats so evil neither afterlife will take them and they are basically shoved into the eternal Nightlands. They def have lore about Weird Sounds in the Nightlands being the souls of evil cats that are stuck in darkness forever and are doomed to wander there forever... yeah that's canon.

but yeah for minor baddies, ig you have to spend time in Opposite Afterlife Jail until you can honestly and wholeheartedly repent and be allowed back into the Good Place. I mean, that IS the reason that DawnClan and DuskClan exist as opposites and don't work together: they literally have separate afterlives and belief systems. They just don't mix well.

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Jun 15, 2024 21:02:34 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Jun 15, 2024 21:02:34 GMT -5

"finish the last bit of dialogue"

1k words later
UHHHH yeah. so that happened. each patrol is legit a CHAPTER this one ended up 1566 words zzz

So the first edition of Dawn/Dusk the patrols were, by necessity, shorter because I was trying to keep them within one (non-nitro) discord character limit. Sometimes the bigger ones were two, but I really tried to stay in that ~400-500 words
This has none of those limitations. Which is great! But also. No wonder I can't do a full moon a day like I could with the previous one. This is like. Maybe one or two patrols a day, otherwise I'm spending hours

Genderqueer Brownie dragonforce is edible inspiration Pronouns: they/them	-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Jun 18, 2024 15:48:23 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Brownie on Jun 18, 2024 15:48:23 GMT -5 two more parts. Lavenderdew being upset that Woodfern is being a better mentor than she is, and Boragebud having a bit of a crisis

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Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Jun 19, 2024 15:36:32 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Jun 19, 2024 15:36:32 GMT -5

one more part to go for this moon, then I can finally click the button!!

I love Dusk/Dawn ghosts. Ridgeshadow is so cool

Also I'm very surprised there's more Dusk enjoyers. I will admit, DawnClan is my favorite of the two, despite Dusk having the cooler territory

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Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Jul 20, 2024 0:10:03 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Jul 20, 2024 0:10:03 GMT -5

this last scene had been eluding me for so long, but I think I finally found the path through it.

Furledstar tries his best, but he's got a few Issues. He hates that his mother, Maplesong, doesn't treat him as an adult, despite him being a warrior for like three years now and leader for nearly a full year (including driving out the Nightbeast pack that had killed his predecessor and a good chunk of DuskClan's warriors). He tries so hard to show her that he can make hard choices and so is very frustrated when she continues to undermine his authority by making herself DuskClan's main mediator.

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Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Jul 20, 2024 13:04:52 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Jul 20, 2024 13:04:52 GMT -5

I clicked the buttons for moon 2! All the scenes are drafted, I just gotta write them. There will be nine this time (and likely eight or nine for a while moving forward)

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Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Jul 23, 2024 22:15:29 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Jul 23, 2024 22:15:29 GMT -5

I might rework some of the later parts of 2.1 but. It's finished for now.

(I honestly don't know why I'm writing anything tonight, my flow is just. not there. oof)

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Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Jul 24, 2024 21:25:41 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Jul 24, 2024 21:25:41 GMT -5

also I have NO clue how I want to keep the allegiances updated. I really like the format of them now, but I want them to stay accessible to reference at any point in the story. I might do what I did for like, GoldenClan and do a fresh one each year and link to them separately idk

Genderqueer Brownie dragonforce is edible inspiration Pronouns: they/them	-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Aug 2, 2024 20:23:02 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Brownie on Aug 2, 2024 20:23:02 GMT -5 I figured it out~ Won't be relevant for a LONG time tho. Also M2P2 done. Working on M2P3

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Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Aug 2, 2024 20:45:02 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Aug 2, 2024 20:45:02 GMT -5

also first two Nightbeastary entries are in! I think I'm okay with this format, though I might separate out the basic description and the description of any known dangers/venoms ect

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Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Sept 7, 2024 0:46:07 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Sept 7, 2024 0:46:07 GMT -5

Finally finished the Cavestar vs Nightbeast scene. Action is hard.

Also I COOKED with the Caverns' StarClan. I'm super happy with this afterlife for them hehehe. DuskClan's MoonClan will be very different! Hopefully I won't have a reason to show that one any time soon tho </3 Or maybe I will with a healer vision or smth.

If you want to know the vibe I was trying to hit, it's a lot like Truth in fullmetal alchemist. But instead of being like, staticky, the dark edges are thin and multi-directional, like shadows cast from many different sources of light... if that makes sense? And the cats themselves aren't pure white, but have some faint color/pattern once they're "blurred in" completely, though are just featureless outlines in the distance or if you try and look at them directly.

SPOILER: Click to show

Also neither of the afterlives would look like this to cats that are actually dead, the actual spirits are somewhere else. The StarClan/MoonClan the living Clan cats can visit is like a middle ground between the living and the dead ^^ Thats why the spirits are blurry there.

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Sept 7, 2024 16:18:07 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Sept 7, 2024 16:18:07 GMT -5

I might come back and redo some of the end pacing, but here's the first look at a starseed in this story! They are significantly changed from the first version, because when I first came up with them, I didn't have a lot of the core worldbuilding elements that I later established. This iteration makes them a lot more significant to the mechanics of the Caverns and explains why the Clan cats covet them so much.

Also they're now starseeds instead of gemshards. They're still gemstones, but "starseeds" better represents what they do: they grow into new Star crystals!

Genderqueer Brownie dragonforce is edible inspiration Pronouns: they/them	-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Sept 7, 2024 20:21:48 GMT -5 Dew likes this Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Brownie on Sept 7, 2024 20:21:48 GMT -5 guess who o.o WIPS SPOILER: Click to show Sketch/lines some character flats lazy bg/lighting

Genderqueer

Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Sept 10, 2024 21:27:11 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Sept 10, 2024 21:27:11 GMT -5

moon 2 part 5 up!

Birdspots is a great narrator. She is very unapologetic, a lot like Mothpuddle really. They both had to put up emotional walls during the war and it definitely still tints their worldview. Pansypoppy would have been an apprentice during the war and was probably shielded from a lot of it.

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Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Sept 12, 2024 20:28:34 GMT -5

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Post by Brownie on Sept 12, 2024 20:28:34 GMT -5

Maplesong is such a dear but also such a menace and I love her. We stan complex grandmas. Next part might be out late tonight or tomorrow, but this first part just got so much heavier than it was ever intended to be. Foggypaw might get a mentor switch after this one o.o

also yes, Furledstar is kinda dumb and thinks it's okay to try and use an apprentice to cure his crush's depression.

lemonshortbread Pronouns: she/her	-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Sept 12, 2024 20:49:17 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by lemonshortbread on Sept 12, 2024 20:49:17 GMT -5 gahhh i need to catch up. i'll do that during my downtime at work lol

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Brownie

dragonforce is edible inspiration

Pronouns: they/them

-'- 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 & 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 -.- [ Moon 2 (7/9) ] Sept 12, 2024 21:28:21 GMT -5 lemonshortbread likes this

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Post by Brownie on Sept 12, 2024 21:28:21 GMT -5

Sept 12, 2024 20:49:17 GMT -5 lemonshortbread said:

gahhh i need to catch up. i'll do that during my downtime at work lol

hey you're not obligated to catch up on this until after I caught up on yours ;-;

two of my peeps sent in chapters for beta tho, but I promise it's on the list!!