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Post by lemonshortbread on Jul 23, 2024 18:21:08 GMT -5
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ the moons *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
currently: moon 13, year 2, greenleaf Moon 0 - Serpentstripe is so dramatic like girl, we just startedRobinjumble often realized she was in over her head with being the medicine cat of a brand new clan. She wasn’t completely clueless, of course, but in her old life, in her life as Robin, she was just a wandering loner who knew how to heal and care for some ailments. It certainly came in handy as a system of exchange for surviving the more difficult months, but now that she was in one place for hopefully the rest of her life, there was much to learn about the plants that grew in BluebellClan territory. Meeting with the other medicine cats this past half moon had been a blessing, and she hopes each exchange will prove just as fruitful. They had recommended she stock up on burdock root while the ground wasn’t difficult to dig through during green-leaf, so she was determined to stock up on as much as she could and bring a little help with her to carry it all.
The brown molly emerged from the medicine den, a nice cool, sheltered spot amongst a pile of rocks, where the High Willow tree’s branches hung like curtains over its entrance. She had recently been chatting with Streakpatch more, he was a rather helpful clanmate and easy to talk to, and he never turned down a patrol with Robinjumble. Her gray eyes met the tom’s striking cyan ones while he finished grooming his pelt and she padded over to him, her fluffy brown tail in the air with contentment. “Good morning Streakpatch, you wouldn’t mind helping me gather herbs again would you? I could really use the help.”
The gray and white warrior’s eyes lit up with the prospect of a task, “Of course!” he quickly got to his paws, “Please lead the way.” He motioned for the break in the bush line that was the only entrance and exit to the camp.
A tiny wail broke the air, “Robinjumble, help!” The brown molly’s head whipped around to the source of the cry - Tempestkit - and rushed over with Streakpatch at her side. Poor Tempestkit, Robinjumble had found her sniveling over her dead mother on the edge of BluebellClan’s territory just half a moon ago. Luckily she was big enough to eat some solid food, otherwise there was no hope she would have made it. The little white molly held up a tiny forepaw, tears in her golden eyes, “I got a thorn stuck in my paw…” she whimpered.
Robinjumble sighed, “Tempestkit, again?” She really didn’t think twice about anything, including where she stepped, but she was still a kit, it was difficult be mad at her. Tempestkit was practically *her* kit since she lived in her den too. “Let me take a look.” The medicine cat instructed, studying her tiny gray paw pads. She could hardly see the thorn it was so small and deep, this was going to take a minute, Robinjumble was overly cautious about potentially hurting Tempestkit more. Robinjumble glanced at Streakpatch apologetically, “Looks like we’ll be in camp today, it’s going to be difficult taking this one out.”
Streakpatch looked at the molly with surprise, “No need to apologize, Robinjumble! I’m here if you need me for anything.” The tom paused as though an idea came to mind, “Why don’t you send out Serpentstripe to collect your herbs? He said he had some healer experience before.”
Robinjumble nodded slowly as she considered his idea, “That’s a good idea, thank you. Could you please go let him know I need burdock root? I know there’s some that grows at the north edge of our territory.” She returned her gray gaze to Tempestkit, “Come now, let’s get that nasty thorn out of your paw.” The brown mottled medicine cat picked up Tempestkit by the scruff without protest, her neck straining from the kit’s weight as she padded back to the medicine den, watching Streakpatch trot to the warriors den to find Serpentstripe.
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Serpentstripe was grateful at the opportunity from Robinjumble and Streakpatch to patrol on his own. Slinking in and out of camp the past moon had been less than ideal, and his clanmates were starting to catch on. Could they blame the dark tabby? Quartz was beautiful. Quartz was adventurous and knew how to talk to him no matter the kind of day he was having, but he knew he couldn’t keep up with this forever. Sooner or later he would have to make a decision about where his heart lay - the clan he had joined a moon ago or Quartz, the long lost love that returned to him. It must have been a sign for her to find him again and in such a remote place. Serpentstripe thought he would never see Quartz again after watching her being carried away in a twoleg trap, yowling in terror all those seasons ago. He shook his head as if to shake the memories away. What was important now was that he could see her yet again, hopefully she hadn’t left the little den they made for her just a few fox lengths over the BluebellClan border. Normally they would only rendezvous at night, when Silverpelt walked the skies, and he would remain with her until almost morning before rushing back to his den in BluebellClan’s camp to be on time for Foxnip’s morning patrols.
As he neared the border, her scent grew stronger - she was home today. Serpentstripe sprinted forward, not caring about the branches that snagged on his long tabby coat, he wanted to maximize the time they had together. Quartz must have smelled him approaching too or maybe heard his ungraceful paw steps. As she emerged from her den he crashed into her, tumbling along the forest floor with his forbidden friend playfully. She let out a squeal of surprise before laughing with him at his antics, “Serpentstripe!” She purred, whiskers twitching in amusement when they finally stopped rolling, ending with Serpentstripe standing over her, forepaws on either side of Quartz’s tabby head. The warrior bent down his dark tabby face and nuzzled the white and tabby molly. “I wasn’t expecting you so early today.” She whispered, nuzzling his face back, purring so hard that it seemed like the ground below his paws was shaking.
“I got lucky.” He explained, lifting his head just enough so that he could look into her pale green eyes. “I don’t have a ton of time, Valleystar took a patrol out to train, but I thought I’d stop by.”
Quartz placed a paw against his long-furred chest, “I’m happy you did…” her face seemed to grow more serious, “I…we need to talk.” Her tone was quiet, mournful almost.
Serpentstripe raised his head up to his normal height, gazing at Quartz with concern glittering in his hazel eyes. “What is it?” She wasn’t going back to her old twolegs was she? It took her seasons to escape, what reason was there to go back? There was no freedom behind a twoleg’s closed door and the food they served was dry and bland.
Quartz rolled onto her side, and Serpentstripe stepped back so she could get up from the forest floor. She shook out her pelt and looked at the ground with a sigh, avoiding his curious eyes, “I think it’s time for me to move on from here. I can’t keep living on the edge of a group of clan cats, they’re already growing suspicious of me, your neighbors too. I got harassed by them yesterday on one of their patrols, I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me to live so close to established groups by myself.” Serpentstripe’s heart felt like it was breaking into two. He couldn’t lose Quartz again.
He tried searching her eyes for some hint of regret in her words but he could find none, “Quartz I…I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, but why don’t you join BluebellClan? I know you’ve told me you’re not interested before but please consider it. Valleystar is one of the most compassionate cats I know, he wouldn’t question how we met or anything he-”
“Serpentstripe,” Quartz cut him off with desperation in her mew, and her eyes focused on him again. “I’m not a clan cat. I don’t want to join a group. I just want you. Why can’t just the two of us be enough?”
*It* is *enough!* Serpentstripe wanted to blurt out, but he had to think this through. He knew an ultimatum would come eventually, but the new warrior had not expected it to be today. There was safety in a clan, there was belonging and security, but what would it matter if he didn’t have Quartz? He took a few paces towards her, licking the top of her tabby head, “You’re right, I can’t change who you are. Let me come with you. I can’t lose you again, Quartz. I love you.”
Quartz stared up at him with surprise and relief, pushing the top of her head into his dark chest fur, “Of course you can come with me,” She pulled back slightly to look back up at her mate, “but what about your Clan? What will you tell them?”
Serpentstripe thought carefully, he knew they would understand, but he didn’t have the heart tell them about leaving so soon after BluebellClan had been formed. “It’s better they think I went missing doing something noble for the clan than burning bridges.” He decided. Who knows, maybe one day Quartz would be convinced and at least this way they would probably be accepted back together - without BluebellClan knowing the full story. Moon 1 - Milkpaw servesThis was not Milkpaw's first patrol with Valleystar, but it was certainly his first with both Foxnip and Valleystar. Their clan was small, and he did feel close to even the highest level of leadership in his clan, but something about being in training and having everyone's eyes on you made his skin crawl. Luckily the weather was wonderful for hunting - clear and a downwind breeze. Although, Milkpaw heard a pair of squirrels fighting before he even scented them. Perfect! They're distracted. The cream colored apprentice thought to himself. Just as the young tom was getting into his hunting crouch, a sharp mrrow! sounded from behind him followed by Foxnip's cream colored pelt soaring above his head and directly for the pair of squirrels.
"Fox-dung!" The deputy hissed as she practically collided with the tree the squirrels used as an arena rather than the squirrels and rolled into a bush full of burrs. Milkpaw's whiskers twitched in frustration as he watched their dinner scamper up the trees, their russet tails disappearing into the budding spring foliage. The apprentice decided to sneak a Glance at Valleystar, expecting to see disappointment in the leader's deep blue eyes, but the speckled tom merely shook his head with a bemused expression.
"Well, that's one way to announce our presence." Egretdrift chuckled, his pale ginger fur ruffling slightly in the warm breeze.
Clearly no one else was concerned that they could have caught enough prey just then had they strategized better - their deputy included. There was no use voicing his complaints though when no one else seemed particularly worried. Milkpaw was determined to not let them return empty-pawed or later than sunset, so he focused once again on the forest around him. His ears swiveled, catching the faintest rustle in the undergrowth after some time of the hunting party pressing ahead. A mouse, oblivious to the commotion a few moments ago, was nibbling on a seed. Now was his chance to prove himself to Egretdrift and his leadership. Remembering his lessons with his mentor, Milkpaw crept forward, his paw steps light as air. In one swift motion, he pounced, killing the mouse with a clean bite.
With his cream colored head held high and a puffed out chest, the apprentice carried his catch back to the hunting party. Egretdrift's copper eyes lit up. "Well done, Milkpaw! That's some fine hunting. Maybe we'll be back before long after all."
His earlier catch made Milkpaw confident, and on their way back to camp, he managed to catch two more mice. Everyone would have some food between their catches yesterday and today. Streakpatch, who was on guard duty, greeted the patrol at their return. His cyan eyes widened at the sight of Milkpaw's prey. "Impressive haul, Milkpaw, Streakpatch mewoed, genuine approval in his voice, "You're really coming along as a hunter." The praise made Milkpaw ducked his head, both embarrassed and pleased by the attention. To go from begging for food as an orphaned young cat to catching food for a group of cats he had to call home, he couldn't help but feel like he belonged. Maybe, just maybe, BluebellClan was his place after all.
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Streakpatch suppressed a sigh as he helped Foxnip pick burrs out of her cream-colored fur. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as the deputy recounted her "heroic" squirrel chase, seemingly oblivious to the fact she'd cost the clan potential prey.
"And then, I leaped right over that fallen log and clear of Milkpaw's head! You should have seen their faces, Streakpatch. Those squirrels- ow!" Streakpatch had plucked a particularly stuck burr from her back, pulling some fur along with it. "A little more gentle, would you?"
Streakpatch didn't respond to her request but was now more mindful with his burr-plucking, "I'm sure they were very impressed." He replied dryly, wincing again as he realized he would have to pull another particularly stubborn burr.
Just as they were finishing up, Robinjumble approached, her brown fur dappled with sunlight that filtered through new leaves, "Streakpatch, I need you for a moss gathering patrol. We're running low on bedding."
The gray and white tom knew this would be an apprentice duty in other clans, but considering BluebellClan's small size, everyone's duties seemed to overlap with each other. He nodded at the healer's request, grateful for the excuse to escape Foxnip's chatter. They walked side by side through the forest, chirping birds and the rummaging of forest creatures being the only sounds that broke up the uncomfortable silence between them. Streakpatch knew the medicine cat had grown distant towards him over the past moon, but for the sake of the clan, he tried to keep things cordial.
"How's Tempestkit doing?" he asked, attempting to break the tension.
Robinjumble's whiskers twitched, though she did not turn her silver eyes towards his cyan ones, "She's adjusting. It's not easy, being so young and living with so many new cats." That was the entirety of their conversation until they reached the Mossy Oak, where most of BluebellClan's moss reliably grew. Until today.
Both of them stopped short. Usually a lush carpet of moss surrounded the Mossy Oak but today, it was in tatters with great swaths torn away and scattered about. "Mouse-dung, Streakpatch swore softly, "What happened here?"
Robinjumble padded forward, sniffing at the damaged moss, most likely imagining just how many nests could have been made from it, "Looks like a badger, maybe. Or a very determined raccoon..."
Streakpatch's tail lashed in frustration, "What do we do now? The clan needs bedding." At a minimum, Robinjumble needed some for her den. Injured cats would need something soft to lie on and a way to get water without needing to get up.
The brown, vitilgo patterned molly sighed, her gray eyes troubled, "We'll have to make do with what little is left and hope it grows back quickly. The clan will just have to be okay with old bedding for a little while."
As the pair gathered what moss they could, Streakpatch couldn't help but worry. First, Serpentstripe wanders off with no trace leaving them one warrior weaker, and now this. Hopefully this was the most of BluebellClan's worries for a little while. Moon 2 - Milkpaw does not serveThe late summer sun was made less harsh by the shade provided from the oaks and pines covering BluebellClan's territory. The wildflowers that blanketed their territory weren't the same as those in newleaf, but they were just as beautiful nonetheless. Milkpaw and Egretdrift faced one another from across the training hollow - a circle of oak trees and in the center grew seasonal wildflowers. The apprentice's cream-colored pelt bristled with concentration as he prepared to demonstrate his proficiency in fighting techniques. "Now!" Egretdrift instructed.
Milkpaw took a deep breath, bunching his muscles to spring forward but as he lept for his mentor, his paws tangled beneath him, causing him to completely miss his target and tumble to the earth in a heap. The tom's ears burned in shame when he turned his copper eyes to Egretdrift's and saw surprise flash across his mentor's face. Before Egretdrift could even get a word out, Milkpaw scrambled to his paws and bolted from the training grounds. He ran despite the burning in his lungs and his vision growing more distorted by the tears in his eyes. He had already been held back from being made a warrior last moon compared to the other apprentices in their neighboring clans, and now Egretdrift would see he hadn't improved any since.
It wasn't long before Egretdrift found his apprentice curled up in a tight ball in the apprentice's den, Milkpaw's body shaking with sobs but trying his best to stifle them at noticing his mentor blocking out the light from the den's entrance. "I'll never be ready to be a warrior..." the cream-colored tom sniffed, "I can't even do the simplest moves right."
The cream tabby warrior's expression softened, but he seemed to be at a loss for words. His mentor's copper eyes looked down at the ground before he simply said, "I'll leave you alone for now. Come find me if you'd like to keep training today." With that, he padded away, and Milkpaw was left alone with his thoughts.
As the day wore on, Milkpaw remained huddled in the apprentice's den, his fears and doubts swirling around him like a storm. He tried to sleep, but no matter how much he chased it, good dreams were faster. He was stuck in the reality that he was a failure to his mentor. It wasn't until he heard Foxnip's gentle voice that he looked up. "Milkpaw? Can we talk?" before waiting for his response, the deputy settled beside him.
Oh great, did Egretdrift send you? Milkpaw thought with some bitterness and fear. What if she didn't think he was good enough either?
"I heard what happened today." She started out gently, Milkpaw could feel her silver eyes focused on him, "You're hard on yourself, Milkpaw. Everyone has setbacks. I have setback all of the time."
Milkpaw lifted his head to look at Foxnip at this, "Yeah...there was the whole squirrel thing..." he spoke without thinking but luckily Foxnip just chuckled.
"See! It's all about how you bounce back. I believe in you, Milkpaw."
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Valleystar sat patiently as Robinjumble worked her way through his long, dark gray fur. The healer's gently grooming was soothing, and he found his eyes starting to drift closed despite the day's responsibilities ahead. Luckily, Tempestkit would not allow the leader of BluebellClan to go without chatting. Her spiky white fur, puffed up from her kitten fluff, made her look like a burr. Her gold eyes bright with curiosity, "Are you going hunting today, Valleystar? Can I come! I promise I'll be quiet!" She dropped down into a little crouch, pretending to stalk a beetle that had wandered into camp, batting at it with her tiny paws.
Valleystar chuckled, enjoying her enthusiasm, but Robinjumble answered before he could, "Not today, little one. But soon, you'll be an apprentice and learning to hunt yourself."
"Robinjumble is right," The dappled tom continued as Robinjumble went back to sharing tongues, "I see your potential though. I also used to hunt bugs in my twoleg's nest. I don't think I'd be half as good at hunting otherwise." he chuckled, blue eyes warm in admiration of the future of his clan.
Tempestkit quickly turned back to face Valleystar at his words, bouncing up to him as if to say something before getting distracted by his fluffy tail. He winced slightly as she pounced on it, pricking him with her claws, but he didn't bother to correct her. He felt Robinjumble purr at the sight too, and when she finished she stepped back and sent him on his way. She seemed distracted though, Valleystar noticed, she had bumped into him on her way back to the healer's den with Tempestkit and didn't even acknowledge it. He frowned slightly but said nothing, getting up himself to make his way towards the camp's exit.
His dark paws had carried him to the westernmost border of BluebellClan - the twoleg dens. Valleystar hadn't seen or heard of many patrols hunting on this side of the territory, but maybe that would make prey more abundant. A blackbird had caught his eye shortly after his arrival to his hunting spot, but before he could even crouch, "Look! A forest cat!" And just like that, the blackbird let out a shrill cry of alarm and flapped away into the trees. Mouse-dung! he cursed before looking over to see what caused the fuss.
The fuss came to Valleystar though in the form of 4 kittypet kits who had squeezed themselves through the bottom rung of their twoleg's fence. Their short tails stuck straight up in the air, waving with excitement and their collars jingled as they bounced around him. He felt a little overwhelmed at the sight of lifting his paws and tail to prevent them from being stepped on. "You smell funny, mister." a little black molly squeaked, followed by a sneeze and tumbling forward onto her back with a giggle.
A tabby tom spoke, "Were you really gonna eat that bird?" his golden eyes wide with wonder.
"Well, I was yes." he admitted, trying to keep track of everything going on around him.
"Is it true that you sleep outside?" a black tom with white paws asked.
"They don't sleep outside Felix!" the black molly retorted, "They have little houses too!" She fixed her green eyes on Valleystar in approval.
Despite his initial frustration at losing his prey, Valleystar couldn't help but purr as the kits kept pestering him with questions. Perhaps when they're older, if their twoleg didn't send them away, he could convince them to join BluebellClan too. "It's true." He chuckled, "We just call them dens." He began backing away towards the woods, shooing the kits with his tail back towards their twoleg den, "I need to go home now, but we'll talk another day." he promised, finally managing to slip away when their mother called for them on the other side of the fence.
Luckily, despite his unexpected meeting, Valleystar had managed to catch a few pieces of prey on his way back to camp. He couldn't help but want to share his adventure with Tempestkit tomorrow before he left for the day again. Moon 3 - A quiet understandingThe waning light of day painted the sky in hues of orange and purple as Valleystar padded towards the camp entrance. His minded wandered back to the events of the day. Egretdrift and Milkpaw had had one of the most successful hunts since BluebellClan had been formally established and Valleystar had conducted his second apprentice naming ceremony, this time for Tempestpaw. The memory of her golden eyes, bright with excitement as she ran past her clanmates to touch noses with him, her new mentor, brought a small smile to his face. He couldn’t wait to make her an apprentice, even if she did have whitecough.
“Ready to go?” Robinjumble’s voice startled him from his reverie. The medicine cat stood nearby, her brown fur blending with the shadows of dusk, the fading patches like a reflection of the moonlight.
Valleystar nodded, focusing his dark blue eyes back on her silver ones, “Yes, let’s head out.”
Robinjumble had asked him this morning if he would accompany her to BluebellClan’s burial grounds. She had felt a calling to it, she explained, plus there were herbs that grew there that she needed. Valleystar hadn’t visited the site since before BluebellClan was recognized by the other clans. It was the only time he had seen the ghost of Jaggedspot, his mentor who he had never met alive.
As they made their way through the territory, the rising moon cast a silver glow over the landscape, highlighting the meadows of southern BluebellClan through the northern tree line. Valleystar found himself glancing at Robinjumble, noting the way the moonlight highlighted her fur to silver. There was almost a fluttering in his chest as she turned to face him, as though she felt his gaze boring into her. But Valleystar simply smiled and faced their destination again as they pressed on.
The burial grounds eventually came into view, a serene pond surrounded by willows and flowering trees like dogwoods. The sweet scent of wildflowers permeated the air, despite this place being their burial grounds, it was beautiful, and peaceful, a reminder that no matter what they faced in life, they will find peace beyond it.
“It always feels different here,” Robinjumble murmured, her gray eyes scanning their surroundings, “Like Jaggedpot’s presence lingers in every petal and leaf.”
Valleystar’s heart ached at the mention of his former mentor. The molly hadn’t visited him in his dreams for moons, and while he took some comfort in knowing that Robinjumble could still communicate with her, the dark tabby tom could have used her guidance many times over the past few moons. “Yes,” he agreed softly. “I can almost hear her voice on the breeze.”
They worked in companionable silence, tidying the area around Jaggedspot’s grave, marked by a clump of bluebell flowers, and gathering rosemary. How fitting that it grew here.
Valleystar found himself stealing glances at Robinjumble, admiring her dedication and gentleness as she tended to the grounds as though they belonged to her family. He had a deep appreciation for her work as a medicine cat, even if he didn’t understand practically any of it - the spiritual or medicinal.
As they came to a stopping point, the dark tabby tom paused by the water’s edge, gazing at his reflection in its stillness. “Do you think I made the right choice?” he asked suddenly, breaking their comfortable silence. “Mentoring Tempestpaw myself?”
Robinjumble joined him, her long fur barely brushing against his own, her reflection appearing beside his. Her gray eyes, reflecting the light of the moon, looked like small moons themselves. “It’s not my place to judge, Valleystar. But I think the experience will be good for both of you. Deputies need at least one apprentice, you ought to have one too.”
Her words, though not overly warm, brought Valleystar comfort. He nodded and gave her a small, warm smile through his reflection before they both made their way back to camp. The cool night air carried the first hints of autumn and Valleystar found himself walking closer to Robinjumble than when they had left. The quiet understanding between them felt like a delicate balance, one he was hesitant to disrupt but equally reluctant to ignore. Whatever the feeling was, it would have to stew for a while. Perhaps it meant nothing, but maybe it meant everything.
“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” Robinjumble murmured to him as they stopped outside of her den, her muzzle perhaps a little closer than normal.
Valleystar dipped his head, “Of course. It’s important work you do, Robinjumble. I’m glad I could help.”
Robinjumble let a small, tired smile escape, “Goodnight, Valleystar.” With her goodbye, she turned and ducked into her den for the evening.
He caught a glimpse of Tempestpaw asleep, curled up in her nest, clutching the bluebell flower he had bestowed on her earlier. A warmth filled his chest, a mix of respect, comfort, and something else he couldn’t quite place for his healer who adopted a kit without ever having been a mother before. With a quiet sigh, he turned towards his own den, his mind full of thoughts of mentorship, rosemary, and the enigmatic medicine cat who seemed to be occupying more and more of his thoughts. Moon 4 - Glimpses of the pastRobinjumble padded out of her den, the crisp mid-fall air ruffling her long brown fur. She needed to gather lungwort today, but when scanning the camp for Valleystar she felt a twinge of disappointment he was no where to be found. He was probably on a patrol. The only cat not busy with something looked like Egretdrift. She hesitated, eyeing the pale ginger tom warily. It had been moons ago, of course, but she had yet to fully forgive the warrior of his history with an old friend.
“Egretdrift,” she called, keeping her voice neutral. “Would you like to join me for herb-gathering? I need to stock up on lungwort before leaf-bare sets in.”
Without more than a smile, he bounded over and Robinjumble already felt some regret for her choice. Yet she couldn’t deny the sleekness of his pelt or the playful glimmer in his copper eyes.
They left camp together, walking in silence. Robinjumble was hyper-aware of Egretdrift’s presence, his fur occasionally brushing hers and consequently, Robinjumble pulling away. Soon enough, not far from camp, she had spotted the lungwort she was after and was even more delighted at finding it growing near plantain. “We’re in luck!” She exclaimed, genuinely relieved at the distraction. “Both lungwort and plantain so close to camp. This’ll be a quick trip.”
She began collecting immediately, sorting the herbs into neat piles, but she slowed her progress slightly when she felt Egretdrift sidle up to her, a playful glint in his eyes. “You know,” he began, his voice low, “if we ever wanted to sneak out of camp, we could just say we’re on an urgent herb-gathering mission. No one would dare question you, Robinjumble.”
Robinjumble felt her ears warm, turning her silver gaze away from his copper one. She remembered how charming he could be, and how quickly he could turn cold. Her response sounded less sure, a mix of annoyance and sarcasm, “Very funny, Egretdrift.” She tried to pick up the pace, “As if I’d use my position to sneak around.”
The pale ginger warrior leaned in closer, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort, “Oh come on, where’s your sense of adventure? We could have our own little secret.”
She paused, both shocked in intrigued for just a moment. She had caught Egretdrift stealing glances at her on multiple occasions. No! You bird-brain. Remember how he treated Dove - the poor thing had to raise his kits on her own. She steeled her resolve, continuing her work and still not looking at him, “We should focus on gathering these herbs,” the healer said firmly, “Leaf-bare will be here before we know it.”
Egretdrift chuckled, nudging her lightly with his shoulder before copying her technique too, “If I hadn’t known you better, I would have thought you were considering my offer.”
Robinjumble merely scoffed and rolled her eyes but couldn’t find a quip ready. She was drawn to the warrior’s charm but wary of his fickleness, and perhaps even a little jealous of his ability to flirt so easily and openly. As much as she wanted to believe there was some tension between her and Valleystar, he was much more polite and reserved than Egretdrift’s bold offers. She could easily be mistaking it for something other than friendship.
Eventually, what felt like the longest herb-gathering patrol was over, and they were both headed back to camp with their jaws full. Spending time alone with the tom had been unsettling in the way that it stirred up old resentments and new, unwanted attractions. They set down their bundles in her den, but before Egretdrift had left he made it a point to thank her for what a wonderful he had, give her a wink, and slowly exit.
She felt guilty, her thoughts drifting back to Valleystar, they weren’t together but something inside of her heart told Robinjumble that the leader would have been stung by the way her mission went today. Perhaps next time she ought to gather herbs on her own.
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Milksnow and Foxnip padded along the northeastern border of BluebellClan territory, the MossClan border. The autumn breeze stirred fallen leaves and caused more colorful orange and red foliage to come cascading down, twirling and dancing before they hit the forest floor. The pride of his newly earned warrior name still filled his chest and what few autumn flowers grew lined his new nest in the warriors’ den.
This patrol was Foxnip’s first since being taken by her old twolegs on the western border of BluebellClan’s territory. Luckily after only a few sunrises, she was able to escape, but not without a pink collar. She must really be committed to her new home to run away from her old twolegs like that. Despite the ordeal, Foxnip seemed undeterred, he cream-colored fur sleek and well-groomed and her attitude unphased. Which was impressive but a little unnerving…
As they approached the border with MossClan, Milksnow’s ears pricked at the sound of rustling undergrowth. A patrol of three cats emerged from the bushes on the other side, he had recognized them from the last gathering: Reedwhisker, the MossClan deputy, followed by Pikeleap and his apprentice Willowpaw.
Reedwhisker’s green eyes narrowed as he spotted Foxnip’s collar, “Well, well,” he meowed, his tone dripping with “Looks like BluebellClan’s tapping into its kittypet roots again. Having second thoughts are we?”
Milksnow felt his light brown fur bristle at the insult, but before he could respond, Foxnip stepped forward, her gray eyes flashing in anger, “I think we’ve proven how quickly we can adapt. We’ll see who’s better off come leaf-bare.”
Pikeleap, the lean pale brown tabby, lashed his tail, “Any leaf-bare is easy if you keep running back to twolegs for scraps and pellets!”
Willowpaw looked uncertainly between the arguing cats, her blue eyes wide as the situation escalated. “We don’t need twoleg help,” Milksnow interjected, trying to keep his voice steady before a fight broke out, “Our past just gives us different experiences. StarClan willing we all get through leaf-bare.”
Reedwhisker snorted, “Just keep your kittypet tendencies on your side of the border.”
The rival deputy turned away, as though their tense conversation was over, but Foxnip’s whiskers twitched, a sly look crossing her face, “Oh, don’t worry. We wouldn’t dream of sharing out ‘kittypet tendencies’ with MossClan. Your egos clearly couldn’t handle it.”
Milksnow winced at her instigating tone. He respected his deputy, but sometimes her sharp tone seemed to create more problems than it solved. Reedwhisker held up his tail to bar Pikeleap from moving closer to their patrol. With a hiss of indignation, the MossClan patrol moved on, casting suspicious glances over their shoulders. Once they were out of earshot, Milksnow turned to Foxnip, “Maybe we should report this to Valleystar,” he suggested cautiously. “The last thing we need is tension with a bordering clan right before leaf-bare.”
Foxnip shrugged, the bell on her collar jingling softly, “Valleystar trusts my judgment, that’s why I’m deputy. Besides, we can’t let them think we’re weak just because of a little mishap with the two twolegs.”
The twolegs. Milksnow noted, Not her twolegs. Without another word, they continued their patrol. He couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. He admired Foxnip’s confidence, but he worried about the consequences of her brash attitude. Perhaps the incident was so fresh in her memory that she was embarrassed, maybe she felt like she had to prove a point. Moon 5 - Living up to her nameTempestpaw trudged through the fallen leaves, her white fur ruffled and her golden eyes narrowed against the chilly late autumn wind. Valleystar’s harsh correction from earlier still rang in her ears. “How can you expect to be a warrior if you can’t even wake up for the dawn patrol?” the dappled gray tom snapped, his dark blue eyes flashing with frustration and disappointment.
The white molly wanted to argue, to tell him about the strange dream that had kept her tossing and turning all night - visions of a cat wrapped in shadows that whispered about things she didn’t understand. Yet, Tempestpaw held her tongue, knowing he wouldn’t ever understand her disturbing dreams. He never did. She had tried before but he brushed it off, saying it was just nightmares from remembering how her mother met her fate, that prophetic dreams were for medicine cats only.
No matter, she would prove her usefulness today, and as they approached the training area, Tempestpaw spotted the familiar cream-colored fur of Foxnip gleaming in the weak sunlight. She still had that ridiculous pink collar around her neck.
“Today, we’re focusing on tree climbing on smooth bark,” Valleystar announced, his fluffy tail swishing as he gazed up at the tall oaks surrounding them.
Tempestpaw’s white ears perked up despite herself. Tree climbing had previously come easily to her. As Valleystar and Foxnip demonstrated the technique, Tempestpaw watched intently, her claws flexing in anticipation. When it was her turn, she sprung at the trunk, her claws finding purchase in the rough bark with ease.
“Good!” Foxnip called from below, “Now, keep pushing higher!”
Tempestpaw followed the deputy’s instructions, surprised at how natural it felt. She climbed higher, the ground falling farther and farther away beneath her, her mind and muscles connecting with the bark under her claws, each step more intentional than the last. “Excellent form, Tempestpaw!” Valleystar mewed, a note of pride in his voice that made Tempestpaw’s fur prickle uncomfortably - she didn’t need his approval.
As she approached the first branch, fox-lengths above her starting point, she paused to catch her breath. From here, Tempestpaw felt like she could see across the territory, the trees stretching out in a patchwork of red and gold. For a moment, she felt a sense of belonging, a connection to the forest that surrounded her.
Valleystar’s voice cut through her reverie. “Come down now, Tempestpaw. We need to practice descending safely.” The apprentice gritted her teeth, her brief moment of peace shattered. She began her descent, hyper-aware of Valleystar’s gaze following her ever move. As her brown paw pads touched the ground, Valleystar padded over, his eyes warm, “You did well today.” he said, reaching out to touch his nose to her ear.
Tempestpaw jerked away at the gesture, unable to hide her protest. She could have sworn to StarClan that there was a flash of hurt in Valleystar’s eyes, but if it was there, it was quickly masked by his usual cheery expression. “Thanks.” she muttered, her yellow eyes not meeting his blue ones. She could feel Foxnip’s gaze boring into her back, knowing the deputy had curiosity in her eyes.
As they headed back to camp, Tempestpaw lingered behind the two older cats, lost in thought. She knew Valleystar was trying, in his own way. She could see how much he wanted to be a good mentor, to connect with her, but every time he praised her, she felt patronized, suffocated. There had to be more in store for her than just the constraints of clan life and Valleystar’s expectations.
🐾🐾🐾
Egretdrift, Streakpatch, and the newly named Milksnow padded through the forest, their eyes alert for any sign of prey. Egretdrift’s pale ginger fur ruffled in the crisp, late autumn breeze, and as they neared the border with MossClan, he felt a familiar sense of unease settle in his stomach. After the interaction with their neighboring clan that Milksnow confided in the two other warriors about, he couldn’t help but worry that MossClan may attack just to prove a point. Luckily, there was no sign of them being here recently other than markers from their dawn patrol. Forcing a lighthearted tone, Egretdrift meowed, “Looks like they’re not here now - bet it’s because they saw Milksnow and couldn’t handle just how strong and brave he looked. I bet they call you...Milkmuscles!” he let out a hearty laugh at his own joke, giving his old apprentice a gentle nudge with his shoulder.
Milksnow rolled his copper eyes, “Ha ha, very funny, Egretdrift.” but the older warrior could see the tension in the young tom’s shoulders ease slightly.
Good, he thought, the last thing we need is for everyone to be on edge.
Streakpatch, however, seemed less amused. The gray tom’s tail lashed as he grumbled, “Speaking of renaming cats, maybe we should call Tempestpaw ‘Tornadopaw” instead. That apprentice is more of a pawful than a nursery full of kits.”
Egretdrift winced internally at the mention of Tempestpaw. The young molly’s presence in the clan and the dynamic between her and Valleystar certainly stirred things up at times. Robinjumble in particular seemed the most stressed as time went on - Egretdrift presumed it was about her adopted daughter but maybe it was something else. The medicine cat and apprentice had been growing apart the past few moons. “She’s young,” Egretdrift offered, trying to keep his tone neutral, “She’ll settle down eventually.”
Streakpatch snorted, “If she doesn’t drive us all mad first.”
As the patrol pressed forward, Egretdrift’s mind wandered back to Robinjumble. Their last interaction had been tense, and he tried to diffuse it the best he could in the only way he really knew how but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she really couldn’t stand him, even after all those seasons ago. It stung more than he cared to admit.
Suddenly, Streakpatch’s excited mrrow broke through his thoughts, “Look! A vole!” The ginger warrior’s gaze snapped to where Streakpatch was pointing. Sure enough, a plump vole sat nibbling on a seed, oblivious to the danger it was in. Streakpatch crouched, ready to pounce, but as he moved forward, his paw snapped a twig. The vole’s head shot up, and in a flash of brown fur, it was gone, disappearing into the underbrush. Streakpatch let out a frustrated growl, his tail lashing, “Fox-dung!” he spat, “I can’t believe I missed that!”
Egretdrift felt a pang of sympathy for his clanmate, “It happens to the best of us.” He shrugged, trying to console his long-time friend.
Milksnow, who had been quiet since their conversation earlier, suddenly perked up. “I smell mouse.” he murmured, brown nose twitching. The young warrior got down into a hunting crouch, and following his pounce, he emerged from the undergrowth with a small mouse dangling from his jaws.
“Well done, Milksnow!” Egretdrift purred, genuine pride in his voice. At least they wouldn’t be returning to camp empty-pawed, although, they could always rely on his former apprentice’s hunting skills.
As they made their way back, Egretdrift glanced at his patrol mates. Streakpatch still looked annoyed about the missed vole while Milksnow seemed lost in thought, the mouse swinging from his jaws. It had been a good day, hopefully Robinjumble would call on him again, but maybe in a better mood than before. Moon 6 - If only
The winter winds nipped at Robinjumble’s face as she padded alongside Valleystar. There was light snow on the ground, not enough to cover the forest floor in a blanket like it inevitably would in a moon or so. The snow that was present though crunched beneath their paws and the occasional creak of frost-laden branches were the only other sounds she could make out around them while they spoke quietly, comfortably, with one another. The medicine cat glanced at her leader, her heart warming at the sight of the tom, enough to ignore the chill around her. His blue eyes reflected the snow on the ground, making them bright and enchanting. Part of her hoped he believed hers were just as beautiful.
“Thank you for coming with me,” Robinjumble purred softly, her breath making a small cloud, “The rosemary at Jaggedspot’s Pond is our most reliable source, especially with leaf-bare setting in. I really appreciate your help.”
Valleystar smiled, his gaze softening, “Of course, I’m always happy to help, Robinjumble. I enjoyed the last time we visited.”
The tension in her shoulders eased, it felt good to be away from the pressures of the camp, if only for a little while. The weight of her responsibilities as a medicine cat, the constant worry about herb stocks, every cat’s health, seemed to lighten in Valleystar’s presence. “How’s Tempestpaw doing?” she asked, remembering the young apprentice’s recent skirmish, “I’ve been meaning to check on her myself.”
“She’s doing well, back to business as usual.” Valleystar replied, pride evident in his voice, “That run-in with the rogue could have been much worse, but she handled herself admirably. Egretdrift was impressed. He said she fought like a seasoned warrior.”
Robinjumble nodded, relief washing over her, “I’m glad to hear it. The bruising should heal quickly, but let me know if she complains of any lingering pain. It’s important to catch any complications early, especially with the cold weather…” She couldn’t help but fret over her adopted kit, greencough could be deadly for a cat so young still.
The burial grounds came into view, the serene pond now encircled with ice along its edges. Jaggedspot’s grave stood among the bare trees, it’s flower withered until the next new-leaf. As they began gathering the fragrant rosemary, its scent sharp and comforting in the cold air, Robinjumble felt a sense of peace settle over her at the familiarity of her work, pleased that there was still ample rosemary that wasn’t too brittle.
“You know,” Valleystar began, his voice hesitant, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately…about you. About us.”
Robinjumble’s paws faltered, her heart skipping a beat. She turned her head quickly to face him, taking note of the hope and nervousness in his gaze. The rosemary she’d been gathering fell forgotten momentarily to the snowy ground.
“Robinjumble,” he continued taking a step closer to her, “I care for you deeply. More than I’ve ever cared for another cat. We’ve already been through so much in three season, building this clan from nothing. You’ve been my rock, my confidante, my moon and stars. Would you consider being my mate?”
For a moment, Robinjumble was struck speechless. Her heart soared at his words, and part of her wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his thick gray pelt and tell him yes a thousand times over. But she couldn’t. Weighed down by doubt and responsibility, the conflict must have shown on her face because Valleystar’s expression faltered slightly. “Valleystar,” she began, her voice soft but firm, “I care for you too. So much. More than I should. But I’m not sure I - or we - are ready for that.”
She winced at the crestfallen look in his eyes, so she hurried on, stepping closer to press her muzzle against his cheek. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with you, but as the clan’s medicine cat, I have to consider how this would look to the others. They might question your decisions, think you’re showing favortism, you can’t afford to do that Valleystar - they’re still learning to trust you. Plus, my position…I’m meant to serve all of BluebellClan equally. What if they think I’m putting us before their needs? What if we have kits and I can’t take care of everyone?”
Valleystar nodded slowly, his gaze becoming unreadable, “I see,” he murmured. “I hadn’t considered all of the implications. I was just…following my heart, I suppose.”
Robinjumble wished she could take it all back, wished he never asked in the first place so she didn’t have to tell him no. “Oh Valleystar,” she whispered, “If I were just following my heart, my answer would be different, but they need us. We have to win their trust.”
“You’re right,” Valleystar admitted, his voice tinged with admiration and regret, “Your levelheadedness is why you’re such an incredible medicine cat. No one else would be fit for such a position.”
Robinjumble pressed closer to him, leaning against him fully and burying her face in his neck fur, “Give me time,” she whispered, “This isn’t a no. It’s just a…not yet. Perhaps in the future we can find a way to balance everything, but for now…” she couldn’t bare to finish the sentence.
“For now we continue as we are.” Valleystar finished her thought for her, touching his black nose to her fluffy ear, “I understand, Robinjumble. I’ll always wait for you.”
She couldn’t help but purr at the reassurance. Part of her was scared they would never return to this conversation, that her waiting would be eternal, or that Valleystar would move on to another molly who had less responsibility, and he might. There was nothing concrete or sure about their relationship. For today, for this moment though, he was hers, and she was his, and Robinjumble would savor every second of it until they broke away not knowing if they would ever reunite.
🐾🐾🐾
Foxnip huddled close to Streakpatch, their fur brushing as they shared the warmth of the weak winter sun. The camp clearing was quiet, most cats seeking shelter from the weather in their dens, but Foxnip didn’t mind the chill. She was much too engrossed in her conversation with Streakpatch to mind the way the wind nipped at her ears and nose.
“You’ll never believe what I overheard yesterday,” Streakpatch whispered, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief, “I guess someone’s old mentor is getting jealous at how much prey he’s been bringing back…”
Her cream-colored ears perked up with interest, letting out a gasp of surprise, “No, you don’t mean…?”
“Oh I mean.” Streakpatch nodded slowly, “But you know how Egretdrift can’t stand being outdone by anyone.”
As though spoken into existence, Foxnip’s gray eyes caught sight of one of the toms in question across the clearing. “Hey, Milksnow!” the deputy called out, “Come with us for a hunting patrol.”
“Oh, sure!” Not that he had much of a choice other than to agree. Regardless, the young warrior padded over, his light brown fur ruffled against the cold but he looked determined. Foxnip couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at seeing his devotion, she liked to think she had some part to play in that.
“Let’s head towards the twoleg dens,” Foxnip suggested as they left camp, “I doubt any kittypets want to go around scaring prey in this weather.”
As they trekked through the light snow, Foxnip found herself in high spirits despite the gloomy sky above them. Streakpatch’s presence was comforting - they had been friends for moons after all, as was Milksnow’s quiet demeanor.
“So, Milksnow,” Foxnip meowed, a teasing lilt in her voice, “You sure are quiet around the twoleg dens, afraid to run into any mollies you like in front of us?”
Milksnow’s ears twitched in embarrassment and he rolled his copper eyes, “Yeah, sure, they’re just all over me…” he scoffed.
Foxnip and Streakpatch chuckled, they liked to ruffle his fur a little all in good fun of course. She let out a purr and nudged his shoulder before pushing ahead with their patrol. As they rounded the last of the fences, a pungent scent hit Foxnip’s nose. Her gaze landed on a large rat rooting through a pile of crowfood and in the corner of her eye she saw Milksnow drop into a hunting crouch. “Wait!” Foxnip hissed, leaping in front of the brown tom to stop him, “Don’t touch that rat. They carry diseases.”
Milksnow sat up, cocking his head to the side, and Foxnip could see his copper eyes following the rat running off at the disturbance. “But it’s prey, isn’t it?”
Foxnip shook her head firmly, “Trust me, it’s not worth the risk. We’ll find other prey.” Continuing their search, Foxnip couldn’t help but feel a twinge of worry. The forest seemed eerily quiet, devoid of the usual scurrying of small creatures. After what felt like ages of fruitless hunting, she sighed. “Looks like we’re going back empty-pawed,” she muttered, with a hint of defeat.
Streakpatch rested his white-tipped tail on her flank comfortingly, “It’s not your fault, Foxnip. It’s just a tough day.”
She nodded, he was right, there was enough for everyone to eat today luckily, she would just need to go back out tomorrow. Her gaze drifted to Milksnow who was also listening, but his head was hung low, clearly disappointed in himself too. The deputy felt a sense of protectiveness around the young tom, it was harder to watch him feel defeated than think that of herself.
Moon 7 - It's complicatedThe moonlight filtered through the bare branches, casting eerie shadows on the snow-covered forest floor. Robinjumble padded through the woods, her breath visible as small clouds and soft crunches of snow beneath her brown paws. She needed this solitude, this moment away from the pressures of the clan and time to mull over her own tumultuous emotions.
As she rounded the bend, a flash of brilliant violet caught her eye. There, in a clearing surrounded by trees, was a clump of bluebell flowers, their delicate petals lit by soft moonlight. “How is this possible?” The medicine cat murmured to herself, sniffing at the beautiful plant. Their sweet scent filled her nose, reminding her of newleaf, of simpler times. Perhaps this was a message from Jaggedspots, but what could it mean? Whatever the case, she could not leave it here, she felt it calling her, to take it home. The brown molly made quick but delicate work weaving the flowers through her fur.
“Robinjumble? What are you doing out here?” Lost in thought, she didn’t hear another cat approaching, the tom’s voice startling her.
She whirled around to see Egretdrift, his pale ginger fur almost silver in the moonlight. His copper eyes widened as he took in the sight of her, the bluebells now adorning her brown mottled fur. “You look…nice,” he breathed, but shook his head, catching himself, “I mean, I was worried. You’ve seemed…off lately, and now you’re wandering around alone in the dark.”
Robinjumble felt a flush of warmth at his words, quickly followed by guilt, “Egretdrift! I-I just needed some air.” She stammered, knowing it was rather unconvincing despite her efforts.
The ginger tom padded closer, his eyes never leaving hers, “I’m glad you’re alright. Something about our healer being out here on her own didn’t sit well with me.” He paused before continuing, “Is there anything I can help with?”
Robinjumble sighed, her shoulder sagging and eyes downcast, “Is my distress that obvious?”
Egretdrift sat beside her, close enough that their fur almost brushed, “To those who care about you, yes. And I care about you a great deal, Robinjumble.”
Her heart sank, something about this didn’t feel like he was concerned about her strictly as a clanmate. Was it bad that Robinjumble wanted to lean into him, to seek comfort in his warmth in the cold forest? But she held back, she was just being emotional right now, and surely she would regret leading him on. “I’ve been stressed,” she admitted finally. “Sometimes I wish I could just run away from it all. Start fresh somewhere, not having so many cats depend on me for their wellbeing.”
Egretdrift’s eyes flashed with alarm, “You can’t mean that. The clan needs you, Robinjumble. We all do.”
She looked away, unable to meet his intense gaze, “I know. Everything’s just so complicated.”
“Is this about Valleystar?” Egretdrift asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
Her head snapped up, her heart pounding. Was her adoration for their leader so obvious? “What? No, I…”
But it was futile, Egretdrift just nodded, a mix of understanding and sadness in his eyes, “You don’t have to explain. Just don’t do anything rash like running off, okay? We need our medicine cat.” Robinjumble couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t talking about her as a medicine cat.
As they made their way back to camp, Egretdrift walked close to Robinjumble, their pelts occasionally brushing. She couldn’t help but feel a mix of comfort and renewed tension. There was so much old history they had yet to hash out she couldn’t completely relax around him.
It was evident they were not in the clear though when the pair was met by Valleystar, his blue eyes flashing with barely contained emotion, eyeing their closeness. “Where have you two been?” He demanded, his voice low and taut.
Robinjumble felt a flash of panic, he couldn’t think this was anything other than what it was! She opened her mouth to explain, but Egretdrift stepped forward, placing himself between her and Valleystar. “I was escorting Robinjumble back from her herb-gathering trip.”
Valleystar’s blue eyes moved to Robinjumble’s new accessory, flicking back to Egretdrift, she couldn’t get a read on what he was assuming had happened, “And you felt the need to accompany her, when she’s perfectly capable of carrying what she needs clearly, because…?”
A moment of silence fell on the three of them, the tension in the air was palpable. The jealousy that radiated from Valleystar and Egretdrift’s growing defensiveness needed to be diffused quickly, “It’s dangerous for out medicine cat to be out alone at night,” Egretdrift replied, a hint of challenge in his voice. Robinjumble hoped that would be the end of it but then the ginger tom continued, “I’ll always be there to protect Robinjumble, whenever she needs me.”
Why would you say that? She wanted to yowl. But she couldn’t get the words out.
“I know Robinjumble is more than capable of taking care of herself,” Valleystar snapped, “In the future, perhaps you should focus on your own duties rather than escorting others.”
Egretdrift’s fur bristled. She couldn’t blame him, especially after seeing the numerous occasions he must have witnessed her and Valleystar go on herb-gathering patrols. “Of course, Valleystar.” He spoke through almost gritted teeth, “I was merely concerned for the well-being of our medicine cat. But I can see my concern is...unnecessary.” The warrior took a final, long look at Robinjumble, and she was unsure if it was frustration towards Valleystar or her before he stalked off to the warriors' den.
Valleystar too watched him go, his tail lashing. He turned his head to the brown molly, opening his mouth to say something, probably to question her intentions for what looked like slinking around at night with another tom, and so shortly after she had rejected his advances. Robinjumble braced herself to be berated but the words never came. Her leader simply shut his mouth, his jaw tight with frustration and eyes hard. “Goodnight, Robinjumble.” Was all he said before motioning her towards the healer’s den with his muzzle.
If only she could speak up and explain the truth to him, it would have to be another day, one where they’d both cooled off. Her gray eyes were fixed on his blue ones apologetically before slowly turning towards her own den. The bluebell woven into her brown fur felt heavy, surely this could not be what Jaggedspot wanted? But maybe it was, maybe it was a sign to focus more on her duties and not the two toms that seemed to have some interest in her romantically. Oh Jaggedspot, can’t I get an answer for all of this? Moon 8 - Staring at the jaws of death
Blankets of snow covered the forest now, and from the overcast skies came light, gentle snowflakes. Deep winter had reached its peak - hopefully. Egretdrift’s long fur kept him fairly warm but now that they’re reaching almost the end of their patrol, curling up in his nest with some fresh-kill sounded wonderful. Luckily on this patrol with him were Foxnip, moving with her usual confident stride, and Tempestpaw, bounding ahead as usual. He could hardly tell her apart from the snow beneath their paws.
“Tempestpaw, stay close.” The pale ginger warrior reminded her again. He couldn’t help but admire her enthusiasm though. Her fur was short, but whatever energy she always seemed to find within her probably kept her warm. He hoped that her mentor wouldn’t try and contain her spirit. Despite his warning though, Tempestpaw kept bouncing along, almost oblivious to the older warrior’s words. “Tempestpaw.” He warned again.
The white molly again did not heed Egretdrift’s caution, instead dashing ahead and around a clump of bushes when a flash of orange fur caught her attention. “Tempestpaw, wait!” Foxnip called after her, picking up the pace. Before they rounded the corner, a rank scent hit both their noses. Fox.
Tempestpaw stood shivering, paralyzed in fear while a gaunt, desperate-looking creature loomed before her, its eyes wild and excited at the prospect of an easy meal. “Run!” Egretdrift yowled. Foxnip turned away, ready to flee, but Tempestpaw was rooted in place, as though the ground had frozen her paws to the earth. Without hesitation, Egretdrift leaped towards the mangy fox with a yowl and took a swipe at its muzzle. The predator let out barks of frustration before whipping its muzzle towards its attacker. “This way, you stupid furball!” He hissed, turning tail to lead it through the woods, away from camp. He caught a glimpse of Foxnip dragging Tempestpaw away before losing them completely - at least they got away.
The fox was thin, its ribs had been showing through its pelt, but in its recognition of the opportunity for a good meal, it gained a speed Egretdrift could barely stay ahead of. His tail unfortunately made a perfect target. Pain exploded through him as teeth sank into flesh and muscle, making the warrior yowl in pain. The fox began dragging the tom backward, trying to shake him as it went, but he couldn’t die here, torn up by a fox for his clanmates to find. There was always a way out.
Egretdrift twisted, clawing at the fox’s muzzle again and again until it released him with a yelp, and in the second he had to escape before its jaws snapped shut again, the warrior scrambled up the nearest tree. His tail throbbed with a white hot pain but his adrenaline carried him up and away from the jaws of death. Heart pounding and head spinning with panic, Egretdrift watched the fox circle below, eventually slinking away in search of easier prey. He let out a shaky breath, wincing as the adrenaline wore off and all he could feel was his mangled tail.
Once the stench of fox had become more stale, Egretdrift took his chances and slowly, painfully, made his way back down the tree and towards home. His tail was numb with the cold, but at least it kept it from hurting more. The tom paused when he heard a familiar voice, “…find him, now!” Valleystar!
“I’m here,” Egretdrift called weakly, stumbling into view of his clanmates. Despite their differences, Valleystar had organized a search party for him. It meant more than Egretdrift cared to admit.
Relief flooded his leader’s face, quickly replaced by concern as he took in Egretdrift’s condition. “Thank StarClan. Let’s get you to Robinjumble.” Valleystar and Foxnip supported his weight on either side, guiding him back. The camp entrance brought Egretdrift a surge of gratitude, and the medicine den even more so as he felt wrapped in its warmth compared to the unforgiving cold of the forest. Without missing a beat, Robinjumble worked swiftly once he was placed in his nest and the clan’s leadership cleared out. Her touch was gentle despite the business-like set of her jaw.
Egretdrift found himself studying her face, recalling their moonlit encounter. He opened his mouth to speak, but his staring had not gone unnoticed by the healer, “Save your strength.” She cut him off, “This is going to hurt.”
And hurt it did. The stinging poultice she applied made Egretdrift bite his tongue to keep a yowl from escaping. The den entrance rustled, and the familiar gray and white face of Streakpatch poked his head in, “I heard what happened! Egretdrift, are you alright?”
Before Egretdrift could respond, Robinjumble whirled on Streakpatch, her eyes flashing with frustration, “Out! I can’t work with cats barging in here!”
Streakpatch backed away, his eyes giving away his annoyance, but he complied nonetheless. It’s hard to argue with the medicine cat. He felt a pang of sympathy for his friend, he was only trying to be supportive, but it was also comforting to know Robinjumble felt protective over him, even if it was potentially just as a clanmate. As she resumed her work, Egretdrift’s copper eyes met her silver ones briefly, “Thank you.” he murmured.
Robinjumble’s expression softened for a moment, “Just doing my job. Now rest. You’ve got a lot of healing to do.” She was right, it still hurt too much to sleep, but hopefully, it would save him from the pain eventually.
Moon 9 - Feelings are hard
Tempeststripe blinked awake, the scent of dried flowers tickling her nose. About half a moon ago, she had been made a warrior. In her adoptive mother’s worry she would be named during the winter, the clan’s healer had saved some flowers for her ceremony from leaf-fall. They didn’t always see eye to eye, but it was sweet knowing she could rely on Robinjumble to always be there for her in a way that her other clanmates could not be sometimes.
As she padded out of the warrior’s den, squinting against the early newleaf sun, Foxnip called from across the clearing, “Tempeststripe, you’re on border patrol with Valleystar today,” the deputy announced. Tempeststripe’s stomach twisted at the news. Her former mentor was always a source of conflicting emotions. All she could do was nod curtly, bracing herself for a tense border patrol ahead.
Valleystar was waiting by the camp entrance, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the early spring sun. He certainly was a formidable, muscular cat. That made her feel better about her safety, especially compared to Milksnow. He was kind enough and very intelligent, but he was a rather small tom. “Ready?” Valleystar greeted, his blue eyes warm as they met hers.
“Like always,” Tempeststripe replied, her tone more clipped than intended. A flicker of hurt crossed her former mentor’s face, and she felt a pang of guilt but it was quickly suppressed. He’d get over it, he always did. This patrol was an echo of countless similar interactions during her apprenticeship - his eagerness to connect, her struggle against the weight of his expectations.
Moving through their thawing territory, Tempeststripe found herself reflecting on the past few moons under his mentorship in their awkward silence. She could of course recognize Valleystar’s genuine attempts to be a good mentor, his desire to shape her into a strong warrior, but those attempts always felt suffocating, laden with the pressure of being the leader’s apprentice. There were many times when Valleystar’s own insecurities about being a first-time mentor despite being the clan’s leader had manifested as harsh criticism or unrealistic standards. Tempeststripe’s apprenticeship had borne the brunt of his learning curve, a realization that still stung even as she understood it better now.
Yet, as they patrolled side by side, Tempeststripe couldn’t deny the respect she’d begun to develop towards the end of her training. His dedication to BluebellClan, his willingness to put aside personal feelings for the greater good, it was all admirable - even if it didn’t erase the hurt he had caused her.
The white molly had been brought out of her headspace when she noticed Valleystar had stopped moving forward, and after a moment she realized why. “Rogue.” he hissed, the foreign scent also hitting her nose. Tempeststripe was alert now, claws unsheathed in anticipation.
Pawprints through the melting snow and muddy earth became evident as they tracked the intruder, and far from the twoleg place border, the pair spotted a scraggly tom attempting to stalk a rabbit. “You’re in BluebellClan territory,” Valleystar called out, his voice firm. “You need to leave.”
The rogue’s hackles raised as the rabbit scurried off at the disturbance, and he spun to face the clan cats, lips curled in a snarl. “You damn clan cats, always making up these rules. Make me!”
Valleystar, without hesitation, lunged forward, and Tempeststripe was stunned for a moment at his decisiveness, but as the two toms tumbled along the forest floor, it was time to make her presence known too. She jumped into the fray, batting at the rogue with her forepaw once they had broken apart, and then Valleystar joined in. Training side by side had been paying off, it was clear in the way they worked in unison. The tom was pushed back a few tail lengths and once all three cats were back on their paws he studied the leader and warrior for a moment, his eyes blazed with frustration but it was clear he was outnumbered. Without another word, he turned tail and ran back towards the border they had just diverged from.
They watched him go, Tempeststripe’s chest heaving with exertion and a sense of triumph, “Well done,” Valleystar panted, she turned her head to meet the pride shining in his eyes, “You’re already proving to be a formidable warrior, Tempeststripe.”
For a heartbeat, she basked in his praise, but the white molly took a sidestep to replace the distance between them. Her expression cooled, “I…had a good teacher.” She admitted reluctantly before focusing her attention on where the intruder had run off. “We ought to make sure the mange-pelt left.”
Valleystar nodded in agreement, following her lead back to the border. Luckily it seems that the tom left for good, a set of pawprints disappeared around a twoleg fence. There was movement though between the gaps in the fence that they stopped beside. Tempeststripe squinted her golden eyes to try and make out what 3 shapes were tumbling towards them, “Oh no, not again.” Valleystar mewed with some playfulness.
“Valleystar!” a black molly mewed, probably close to apprentice age. “You came back!” The three kittypets surrounded the two of them, squeezing underneath the clan cat’s bellies and tumbling with each other.
“You know these kittypets?” Tempeststripe mewed with some suspicion in her voice.
Valleystar somewhat forcefully detached a giggly kit from his tail with a grunt, “Sort of. They seem to run out of that den whenever I’m around, it’s like they know I’m on the way.” He chuckled, placing the kit back on the ground.
“Hey, hey lady, watch this!” A tabby tom squeaked at Tempeststripe before bowling into his sibling, a black tom. The two of them rolled back and forth in a bundle of giggling fur before glancing up at her for approval of their tactics.
Tempeststripe couldn’t help but purr, they reminded her of younger self in a way, “Careful, little warrior.” She meowed, “Save those moves for when you’re bigger. I don’t think your twolegs want you getting all torn up out here.”
They stayed with the kits for a few moments longer before their mother called them back inside. Maybe one day she would let them join BluebellClan. While there were many cats interested in one another in their clan, none of them were mates. Now with there being no more apprentices or kits on the way, they would be a wonderful addition one day. She felt Valleystar’s gaze on the side of her face, and when she turned to face him, he had a soft smile and look to his blue eyes. It was strange, they were normally so harsh to her. “You’re great with kits, Tempeststripe. Do you ever want any of your own?”
His question sent a jolt through her. Tempeststripe straightened, her golden eyes avoiding his blue ones, “Maybe…” she replied, her tone unreadable, “But for now, I’m focused on being the best warrior I can be.” It seems the continuation of BluebellClan was also at the forefront of Valleystar’s mind.
🐾🐾🐾
Milksnow settled into the circle of warriors, the fresh-kill pile nearby offering the comforting scent of newleaf prey. The weak early spring sun warmed his light brown fur as he observed his clanmates: Tempeststripe and Streakpatch grooming each other, Foxnip’s tail twitching with barely contained energy, and Egretdrift looking both proud and sheepish as Foxnip and Tempeststripe egged him on to retell his heroic story. “…and then I led the fox deeper into the forest,” Egretdrift mewed.
Milksnow admired the warrior’s courage, but this felt like the hundredth time he’d heard the tale. It was brave of course, but Milksnow would have done the same if he was in Egretdrift’s paws! He couldn’t help but notice the way Tempeststripe’s gold eyes would light up with interest as she listened to the story. He knew she and his former mentor had grown close and he couldn’t help but feel a little left out.
Foxnip nodded appreciatively at the ginger tom, “You really do think well on your paws, Egretdrift. Next time though, try not to leave me with one less warrior to put on patrols.” She chuckled, casting a glance of pity at his healing tail.
Streakpatch snorted, pausing in his grooming of Tempeststripe, “Next time? Let’s hope there isn’t a next time. We can’t afford to lose any cats to reckless heroics.”
Foxnip’s ears flattened and she narrowed her silver eyes at the gray tom, “Reckless? He saved Tempeststripe and me. Would you rather he had let us fend for ourselves?”
Streakpatch leaned towards the deputy, annoyed at her constant praise of the ginger warrior, “There were three of you and one fox, you could have handled it just fine without him having to put himself in danger.”
Milksnow tensed, the tension between Foxnip and Streakpatch so thick a claw could strike through it. He respected Foxnip’s leadership as deputy, his own admiration of her aside, but her quick temper led cats into unnecessary conflicts at times. “I’m sure Streakpatch didn’t mean it like that,” the brown tom interjected, his voice calm and reassuring, “We’re all grateful for Egretdrift’s bravery, and we’re also right to be concerned about each other’s safety. Let’s just look after one another, okay?”
He saw Foxnip’s bristling cream-colored fur begin to settle while Streakpatch gave a grudging nod before going back to sharing tongues with Tempeststripe. “Well said, Milksnow.” Egretdrift praised his former apprentice.
A warm glow of pride bloomed within him at the compliment, especially coming from his old mentor, “Thanks.” he mumbled, a bit embarrassed by the sudden attention from his clanmates. The conversation drifted to other topics, and Milksnow found himself actively engaged now, but once everyone had finished their meal, they began moving on to other duties and corners of the camp.
Foxnip hadn’t left though, and she brushed against Milksnow, “Thanks for earlier,” she murmured, “Sometimes I let my temper get the best of me.”
His heart raced at feeling how close she was, “Anytime…” he managed to reply, hoping his voice sounded steadier than he felt.
Moon 10 - Bumbling furballsThe rich scents of new growth filled Streakpatch’s nose as he crouched in the undergrowth. His gray fur didn’t quite blend in with his surroundings but with the long shadows of the early evening, it was more advantageous than broad daylight. Nearby, Foxnip’s cream-colored pelt stood out starkly against their green surroundings. He suppressed a sigh of frustration. They’d been out here for what felt like ages, and neither of them had caught so much as a mouse.
His blue eyes followed Foxnip as she stalked forward, her movements fluid and precise. For a moment, he felt a flicker of admiration for her hunting skills, but the emotion was quickly squashed by his own irritation at their lack of success. As she pounced, Streakpatch held his breath, only to see the vole dart away just before her paws could hit the forest floor.
Foxnip hissed in frustration, her tail lashing. “Fox-dung! That was our best chance yet.”
Streakpatch padded over, trying to keep his tone neutral. “Maybe we should try near the old oak. There’s usually good hunting there.”
Foxnip’s gray eyes flashed with annoyance when she whipped her head around to face him, “We’ve already been there, Streakpatch. Or weren’t you paying attention?”
He bristled at her tone and narrowed his eyes back, “I was paying attention, I just thought-”
“Maybe you should think less and hunt more.” Foxnip cut him off before stalking off but the warrior couldn’t tell if it was more out of anger or to continue the hunt. Either way, he bit back a retort. Ever since she became deputy, Foxnip was not the same cat he used to know when she was a kittypet. Serpentstripe, Egretdrift, and Streakpatch had all been so close before joining BluebellClan, and Foxnip had been one of their friends even after she became a kittypet. Now though, maybe it was just her title, but he felt like she had been pulling away from him and now with Serpentstripe gone and Egretdrift mooning after Robinjumble, he couldn’t help but feel alone.
They continued through the forest, the silence between them growing heavy. Streakpatch found his mind wandering to the other cats back in camp too. It wasn’t just his friends who seemed to be adjusting fine to their new life, but even those he hadn’t known before. Milksnow was growing more popular as he proved himself to be emotionally intelligent and competent, and Tempeststripe was fierce and capable. It was hard to not grow jealous of them, even a little. He didn’t particularly like Tempeststripe but at least she was a productive warrior.
A rustling in the bushes snapped Streakpatch’s attention back to reality. He dropped into a crouch, creeping forward. Just as he was about to pounce, Foxnip darted in front of him, scaring away the potential prey.
“What on StarClan’s green earth was that?” Streakpatch hissed, unable to contain his frustration any longer.
Foxnip didn’t back down though, her hackles raised, “I saw it first! If you’d been quicker-”
“If I’d been quicker? You practically tripped over your own paws getting-” Then he saw it behind the deputy’s head, a few fox lengths away, its outline just barely visible, but he was certain it was a rabbit.
Foxnip tilted her head in confusion but when she glanced back and realized it was there too, she fell silent. Without a word, the duo moved in unison, seasons of hunting as a group naturally presenting itself. The gray warrior herded the rabbit towards Foxnip who made the killing pounce with precision and stood proudly over their catch. He had to admit, he felt a begrudging sense of satisfaction. They might argue, but at least they could still work together.
“Nice teamwork,” Foxnip muttered, not quite meeting his eyes.
Streakpatch nodded, some of his anger fading at what Foxnip would consider an apology, “Yeah, not bad for a couple of bumbling furballs.”
A hint of amusement flickered in Foxnip’s eyes, and for a moment, Streakpatch was reminded of why they’d been friends in the first place. Moon 11 - Luna Lovegood but as a cat
Tempeststripe’s paws barely skimmed the grass as she raced through the forest, her white fur a blur against the lush greenery of mid-spring. She was supposed to be hunting, but the thrill of the open air had overtaken her. The wind in her fur made her feel alive, free from the complexities of clan life and Valleystar.
As she neared the border with Twolegplace, a strange scent caught her attention. The warrior skidded to a halt, her golden eyes narrowing as she spotted a gray and white molly sitting calmly just beside the fence that housed the three kittens she had run into with Valleystar a few moons ago. Can’t this kittypet smell scent markers? “Who are you?” She interrogated, “This is BluebellClan territory, you’re trespassing.”
The molly turned, her heather-blue eyes meeting Tempeststripe’s gaze without flinching, completely unreadable. There was an odd halting to her movement as she got to her paws, “I’m Stone,” she replied, her voice carrying an unusual lilt to it, “I’ve come to join BluebellClan.”
Tempeststripe blinked in surprise, her hostility momentarily forgotten at the molly’s boldness, “Join? But you’re a kittypet, don’t you have twolegs to take care of you?” She turned her muzzle up slightly in disdain.
Stone’s whiskers twitched but her expression was unchanged, “My sister’s kittens met you and your leader, Valleystar. I saw you two through the window. I want to see if clan life is worth them joining. Maybe it’ll be worth me staying.”
She had to admit, she was at least intrigued by Stone’s straightforwardness. It was a little unsettling though that Stone seemed to know who she was despite never meeting her. “Well, I suppose I could take you to Valleystar. But don’t get your hopes up.” the white molly thought she would tack that on at the end, but still, Stone did not react, only suddenly following Tempeststripe without another word to camp.
As they walked side by side, Tempeststripe couldn’t help but notice Stone’s strange gait - her left paws moved simultaneously, then her right, they didn’t alternate like all of the other cats she had met. “So…why us? Isn’t kittypet life easier?”
Stone thought for a moment before responding, “Easier, perhaps, but not fulfilling. I’ve always felt there was something more out there. When I saw you two and how my sister’s kittens came back talking about the wild cats, I wanted to see for myself.”
She had to respect it, even if she didn’t trust Stone. Who knew if Valleystar would even take her in anyway? Upon entering camp, heads turned and whispers erupted. Tempeststripe led Stone directly to Valleystar, who emerged from his den with a curious expression. Tempeststripe opened her mouth to explain but Stone padded forward toward the gray tom and stood perhaps a little too close for comfort, “Hello, Valleystar. My name is Stone.”
“Um, yes, hello there.” He smiled awkwardly, trying to be friendly but clearly a little disturbed at the lack of personal space.
“I saw you, from the window. I live with the three kittens you met at Twolegplace. I want to join BluebellClan.” She finally explained.
He seemed to perk up immediately after that, “Wonderful! Why don’t we get you situated then?” Without hesitation, Valleystar leaped onto the old willow, calling the clan together below him, “Let all cats of BluebellClan gather around the old willow for a clan meeting.” He paused for a moment while everyone got situated, “We have a newcomer, Stone. From this day forward though, she will be known as Stonetimber, the newest addition to BluebellClan!” Valleystar declared, his voice ringing across the clearing.
The rest of the clan seemed just as enthusiastic, cheering Stonetimber’s name and surrounding the molly. Tempeststripe couldn’t help but feel jealousy, resentment even. How come she gets a warrior name so easily, before even proving herself, but Tempeststripe had to put up with Valleystar’s criticisms and incessant training?
Egretdrift was the first to approach Stonetimber, his tail now fully healed from his encounter with the fox. He carried a sleek feather in his mouth and presented it to the newcomer, “Welcome to BluebellClan, Stonetimber.” he meowed, his voice light and friendly, “May this feather bring you swift hunting!” It was difficult to not feel affection for Egretdrift’s kindness, even to strangers. It was what she admired most about him.
Foxnip stepped forward next, her expression guarded but not unfriendly. She dropped a small, smooth pebble at the former kittypet’s paws, “For adaptability,” she explained, “The streams in our territory are full of these, may it remind you of your new home and take each day one at a time.”
Even Valleystar offered a gift - a small bundle of sweet-smelling bluebells and other wildflowers, “To help you adjust to your new home.” he said warmly, “These will help decorate your nest.”
Only Streakpatch remained aloof, watching from the edge of the clearing with narrowed eyes. His thoughts seemed to mirror her own, only Tempeststripe wouldn’t be as obvious with her suspicions. “So, I heard you saying you’re a good swimmer?” She chimed into the huddle of cats around Stonetimber.
She nodded, “Yes, I used to swim in my Twoleg’s pool. It was small.”
What’s a pool? Was Tempeststripe’s first thought but she simply nodded along when Valleystar and Foxnip seemed to understand what she was talking about. “Well, that could be useful. Not many of us are strong swimmers around here.”
This made Stonetimber’s eyes light up with a spark of excitement in their heather-blue depths, “Perhaps I could help fish! I do love tuna. I also liked to build. I would move my toys around and make dens in my twoleg’s home.”
What’s a tuna? Tempeststripe seemed to be out of the loop again. “That…could be helpful.” Whatever that was. “With newleaf bringing more rain, some of our dens could use reinforcing, maybe you could help with that.”
The day wore on, and Tempeststripe continued to watch Stonetimber’s interactions with the others. Her determination to fit in was clear, and she didn’t even seem to notice the strange, halting grace of her own movements. As the sun began to set, and the clan settled into their dens, Tempeststripe helped the molly create a makeshift nest in the warrior’s den and surrounded it with her new presents, “It’s not much,” she said apologized, “but we’ll help you gather better materials tomorrow.”
Stonetimber’s grateful smile was warm, “It’s perfect,” she said softly, quickly settling in, “Thank you, Tempeststripe.”
The white warrior merely nodded before curling up in her own nest. It was difficult to sleep though as her mind swirled with questions about her newest clanmate.
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。year 2Moon 12 - Their best judgment The early Greenleaf sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across BluebellClan’s camp. The willow’s branches stirred lazily in the soft breeze, and the quiet bubbling of the stream reflected the sun’s light back onto the cats who resided here. Tempeststripe emerged from the leader’s den, stretching luxuriously. Her white fur was neatly groomed, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed, as if her new status as Valleystar’s mate was written all over her pelt.
As she padded towards the fresh-kill pile, she felt the weight of her clanmates’ gazes upon her. Some were curious, others skeptical, and a few downright disapproving. Nonetheless, she held her head high out of her own sense of pride. The scrutiny would not affect her.
Egretdrift approached, his pale ginger fur almost red in the early morning light. His eyes were warm and mischievous as he meowed, “Well good morning, Tempeststripe. Sleep well in the leader’s den?”
Her fur grew hot with embarrassment, and it took much resolve to meet the warrior’s gaze steadily. Their friendship had always been a source of comfort, it was nice not having genuine judgment from him, even now. “I did, thanks,” she mewed quietly, “It’s...different. In a good way. Not as noisy as having to sit through your snoring.” She chuckled.
The ginger tom gave Tempeststripe a playful cuff around the ear, “I hope your moss is cold tonight.” He shot back with a purr before choosing something from the fresh-kill pile. When he tucked into his breakfast, Tempeststripe finally saw Milksnow and Robinjumble just outside of the healer’s den sharing tongues, their heads close together. They both glanced her way, Milksnow offering a friendly nod while Robinjumble’s expression remained unreadable.
It was difficult to not jump to conclusions about what they could be whispering about. Was it her? Did Robinjumble and Milksnow know something she didn’t? They’re probably just jealous of the attention. She decided.
She had finished her mouse beside Egretdrift when their deputy approached. Her cream-colored fur was also neatly groomed, her posture rigid and professional, and her expression was carefully neutral as she spoke, “Tempeststripe, I’d like you to lead a hunting patrol today. Take Stonetimber with you - she could use the experience.”
Tempeststripe nodded, appreciating Foxnip not making any unwelcome comments, as though things had always been this way even if she couldn’t really tell what the cream-colored molly thought. “Of course, Foxnip. We’ll head out right away.”
While en route to retrieve Stonetimber from the warrior’s den, she almost collided with Streakpatch. The gray and white tom’s eyes narrowed slightly, his tail twitching with barely concealed agitation. “Congrats.” he muttered, his tone suggesting anything but sincerity, “I hope your new...position...won’t interfere with how things work around here.”
The white molly felt a flare of irritation but pushed it down. She couldn’t make Valleystar look bad, it would probably just take some time for everyone to get used to everything. The same went for herself. Still, the warrior’s thinly veiled hostility stung. “My commitment to BluebellClan hasn’t changed, Streakpatch,” she replied coolly, “If anything, it’s only been strengthened.”
Continuing with her mission, Tempeststripe gathered her patrol and was heading for the grotto’s exit when Valleystar emerged finally. His dark gray fur gleamed in the morning light, she felt her heart skip a beat as he made his way to her side. Touching his nose to her ear affectionately, she was both comforted and self-conscious at this public display. “Good hunting,” Valleystar murmured, his blue eyes soft as he gazed at her. Tempeststripe could only give out a quick ‘thank you’ in response before leaving, feeling the judgmental eyes of her clanmates boring into her.
🐾🐾🐾
Sunrises before ---
The forest was warm and alive - birds chirping, leaves rustling, and the gentle babble of the river that cut through the southern half of their territory. Tempeststripe crouched low, her muscles tense and ready to spring. Her golden eyes were fixed on a plump water vole near the bank, its whiskers twitching as it nibbled on a seed.
She was poised to pounce when a splash of water caught both of their attention. Startled, she watched in annoyance as the vole scurried away into the safety of its burrow. Frustration flared in her chest as she whipped her head to the source of the disturbance. To her surprise, Valleystar stood in the shallow part of the stream, his dark gray fur glistening with water droplets. His dark blue eyes sparkled with an uncharacteristic mischief that made Tempeststripe’s heart flutter.
“Take a break, Tempeststripe,” her leader called, his voice light and playful, “The water is only nice around this time of year.”
The white molly hesitated, her tail twitching with indecision. This wasn’t like Valleystar at all - he was usually so focused, so serious. The weight of leadership seemed to have momentarily been lifted off his shoulder here though, revealing a side to him she’d never seen before.
“We’re supposed to be hunting.” She reminded him, but she could already feel her resolve weakening. Tempeststripe would be lying if she said this was the first time she got distracted by something more fun than her duties.
Water was splashed in her direction, a playful grin spreading across his face, “All work and no play makes for dull warriors,” he teased, “Besides, when was the last time you did something just for the joy of it?”
Well, she supposed it was when she let herself sprint freely in the woods and climb up the tallest trees she could find, but Valleystar hadn’t gotten to see that side of Tempeststripe. She hadn’t been sure before if Valleystar wanted to, maybe it was because she was an apprentice then. Her role called for a different relationship then. One where she had to prove herself, always striving, always pushing to be better, faster, stronger. But before Tempeststripe knew it, she found herself wading into the cool water. It felt wonderful against her fur given the scorching heat of the forest. It was like washing away the tension between them.
A surprised mrrow of laughter escaped from her as Valleystar sent another splash her way, “Oh it’s on now!” She declared as she reared back on her hind legs to send a wave of water onto Valleystar’s head with her forepaws. They chased each other through the shallows, their laughter and banter echoing through the trees.
This was the side of Valleystar she had always wanted to see all these moons, the one that let his walls down, the one that allowed her walls to crumble too. They ended up on the bank, breathless and soaked to the bone, and in a comfortable silence they began to groom each other’s fur dry. Sitting this close to Valleystar, she found herself studying the tom’s face, his strong jaw, the muscle that was ordinarily hidden under his long fur, his dark blue eyes - how had she never noticed the flecks of silver in them before?
“Tempeststripe,” Valleystar began, his voice soft but serious. The playfulness was gone and it caught her off guard, “I know our relationship hasn’t always been easy. I made a lot of mistakes, I’ve been incredibly hard on you. I’ve pushed you too hard, even. I see that now.”
The white molly parted her jaws to speak, to say she forgave him, but he gently touched his feathery tail to her face, “What I’m trying to say is I have always seen the potential in you. You’ve only become more incredible since then, I would be honored to have a cat like you at my side to see the future of BluebellClan come to fruition. Would you be my mate?”
She was stunned. Mates with my leader? What could he possibly want with me, he’s handsome, brave, I didn’t even think he liked me until I was a warrior. But part of Tempeststripe was incredibly flattered. The leader of her clan was interested in her, a measly new warrior, and when she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity. Maybe this was how she was meant to serve her clan, “Yes.” she whispered, surprised she could even get the words out, “Yes, I’ll be your mate, Valleystar.”
🐾🐾🐾
The night before—
Valleystar padded silently through the moonlit forest, his mind whirling with thoughts of the past few days. The memory of Tempeststripe’s ‘yes’ still echoed in his ears. It brought him just as much warmth as it did unease. He had just left the Cascading Moon after a dream that made him just as unsure of his decision as he was before. Jaggedspot had merely told him to use his best judgment - but what if his best judgment wasn’t necessarily good judgment? The weight of leadership had never felt heavier on his shoulders.
“Am I doing the right thing?” he murmured to himself, gazing up at the stars twinkling between the leaves. He cared for Tempeststripe, there was no doubt of that. Her fierce loyalty, her strength, her determination - all qualities that had drawn him to her. But was it love or the desperate need of a leader to secure his clan’s future? It had not gone unnoticed by the other clans at their gatherings that BluebellClan had not grown by more than one warrior in a year. None of his clanmates seemed interested in romantically having a relationship with one another and bringing kits into the clan. They were lucky that none of them had died due to illness or accident or something else in this past year, but what if sickness took hold over them, or a war? 8 warriors was hardly intimidating or enough to sustain a clan.
His gaze drifted back towards camp, where he knew Robinjumble would be sorting herbs. A pang of longing shot through his heart. How many times had he imagined a future with her? But Robinjumble’s dedication to her role as medicine cat had made it clear - she would never be ready to be his mate.
Valleystar let out a heavy sigh. BluebellClan needed kits to survive, and as the leader, it was his duty to ensure that his home did survive. And Tempeststripe...she was young, capable. She would be an excellent mother and a role model for future generations.
It’s not just about feelings. He reminded himself firmly, It’s about what’s best for the clan. Even still, guilt gnawed at his stomach. Tempeststripe deserved someone who loved her wholly, without reservation. Was he being fair to her?
He steeled himself for what was to come as he brushed through the entrance to the camp. Taking a deep breath, Valleystar leaped onto the Old Willow. The clan would have questions and doubts. Some might even challenge him. As he gazed down from his position, the cats of BluebellClan’s eyes turned up towards him. He envied their simplicity for a moment. His gaze landed on Tempeststripe, emerging from the warriors’ den. Her golden eyes lit up when she saw him, and Valleystar felt a rush of affection. Maybe, in time, the love he felt for her could grow.
Enough standing in silence, it was time to make his announcement. “Cats of BluebellClan,” he began, his voice strong and clear, “I have an exciting announcement to make - Tempeststripe has agreed to be my mate.” He felt as though his face betrayed him, but Valleystar was more focused on the reactions of the cats below him. A ripple of surprise ran through them - shock, approval, skepticism. He couldn’t help but look at Robinjumble, trying to read any emotion in her silver eyes but they gave away nothing, and he quickly looked away, unable to bear her gaze any longer. Her daughter was doing what was necessary for her clan, and so was he. Robinjumble had rejected him to do what was necessary, they were only following their best judgement. Moon 13 - Jaggedspot's messageThe late summer sun beat down on Robinjumble’s long brown fur as she led Stonetimber through the lush undergrowth. The scent of ripening berries filled the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest floor. The clusters of red berries finally came into view to the medicine cat’s delight, “There,” Robinjumble meowed, gesturing with her tail towards a patch of raspberry bushes. “Remember, we’re gathering the leaves, not the berries. They’re excellent for helping queens during kitting. It helps the process go quicker.”
Stonetimber nodded, her heather-blue eyes bright with interest, “Right, leaves for kitting. Got it.”
They worked efficiently but relaxed. The sun was more bearable when it was blocked by the trees, though the humidity made it difficult to work fast. The medicine cat kept sneaking glances at the former kittypet, checking her progress. She was adapting well to clan life, her strange mannerisms becoming endearing rather than off-putting. There was something about her earnestness that Robinjumble found sweet. It helped that Stonetimber was quiet. She didn’t like getting distracted during herb gatherings.
An unexpected cool breeze ruffled their fur, carrying with a scent that made Robinjumble’s heart skip a beat - florals, and frost, the unmistakable scent of StarClan. “Do you feel that?” Stonetimber whispered, her eyes wide.
Robinjumble whipped her head around in surprise, “You can sense it too?”
The world seemed to shimmer around them, a translucent figure appeared before them, her starry pelt shimmering in the dappled sunlight. “Jaggedspot,” Robinjumble breathed, dipping her head in respect. “Why have you come to us?”
The StarClan cat’s eyes were filled with an urgency that sent a chill down the healer’s spine. When Jaggedspot spoke, her voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once despite her jaws never opening, “Stone and timber will crumble, and the bluebells will wither unless the milk of kindness flows. Watch for the fox that hides in plain sight, for not all that glitters is starlight.”
Robinjumble’s mind raced, trying to decipher the cryptic message. Stonetimber beside her trembled, but whether from fear or awe, she couldn’t tell. “What does it mean?” The molly asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
But Jaggedspot was already fading, her form dissipating like mist in the morning sun. In moments, she was gone, leaving Robinjumble and Stonetimber alone in the suddenly quiet forest. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Robinjumble’s thoughts whirled, trying to make sense of Jaggedspot’s words but all of it together didn’t make sense. Milk of kindness? Surely she couldn’t be alluding to Tempeststripe and Valleystar - and who would be trying to sabotage them within their own clan?
“Robinjumble?” Stonetimber’s voice broke through her thoughts, “What just happened?”
“That was Jaggedspot from StarClan, our ancestor.” she replied softly, “But I don’t understand why she would appear to both of us. Typically they only commune with medicine cats and leaders.”
Stonetimber’s eyes widened, “Does this mean…I’m a medicine cat too?”
The thought of Stonetimber as her apprentice caught Robinjumble off guard, she had never considered taking one. “I…I don’t know," she admitted, “But whatever this means, we need to be careful. StarClan’s warnings are not to be taken lightly.”
🐾🐾🐾
The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the grotto. Egretdrift’s heart raced as he carefully picked his way between the sleeping forms of his clanmates. His pale ginger fur seemed to glow white in the moonlight, and he silently cursed his conspicuous pelt.
Nearing the camp entrance, he caught sight of Streakpatch on guard duty. For a moment, their eyes met, and Egretdrift felt a pang of guilt. There had been a time when he thought he might develop feelings for his clanmate, but that was before...
“Late-night hunt?” Streakpatch asked, his voice low and tinged with curiosity.
Egretdrift nodded, forcing a casual tone. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep. Thought I might as well make myself useful.”
Streakpatch seemed to accept this but his eyes revealed more than he let on. He gave a small nod, “Be careful out there.”
Egretdrift dipped his head in thanks and slipped out of camp, he couldn’t shake the feeling of Streapatch’s eyes on his back. Pushing the guilt aside, he focused instead on the thrill of anticipation that coursed through him. One out of the gray tom’s line of sight, the ginger warrior broke into a run. The cool night air rushed through his fur as he made his way towards the MossClan border, reaching the stream that marked the southernmost corner of MossClan’s territory and illuminated by moonlight sat Willowshine. He knew her as Willowpaw previously, at BluebellClan’s first two gatherings, but after getting to know her as Willowshine at gatherings and friendly patrol interactions, they grew more curious about one another.
“Egretdrift,” she breathed, her blue eyes lighting up as she saw him, “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”
He crossed the stream in two bounds, pressing his muzzle to hers when closing the distance between them. “You know I’m a tom of my word.” he purred.
Their tails intertwined, and Willowshine’s presence made thoughts of BluebellClan’s potential judgment melt away. Here, with the beautiful gray warrior, he was just a cat in love, not a warrior with divided loyalties. |
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