A ClanGen blog following FlickerClan - an old Clan haunted by curses and a disastrous event no cat wants to say out loud. Largely focused on writing but art will show now and then. Icon by perse.phonii on Instagram!
FlickerClan survives like a stubborn flame. Restless, scorched, and burning still...
Hiya! I'm Syd or Patch (they/them, she/her). This is where I post writings and other fun things based on my current LifeGen save!
As of now, this is largely for writing, but occasionally I will post art (as well as add art to pre-existing posts later on)
>>>START HERE<<<
>>ALLEGIENCES<<
Updates:
After I set up this blog should be every Monday/Wednesday with other posts in between!
Content Warnings:
Canon compliant grief, murder, violence, toxic relationships, possible kit death, and animal death/abuse. Parental abuse and mental illness will also likely be touched on, along with aspects of horror in further posts. All of the triggers that are not canon compliant will be tagged appropriately.
ASKS: OPEN
While this is my first ClanGen blog, I am here to answer in-character and out-of-character asks. I have experience running ask blogs! I'd love to draw everyone's cats now and again. The ask box is open for anyone and for whatever y'all want!
Tags:
Weekly Updates/Chapters - #piperstar watches
Bonus Updates - #flickerbonus
Art - #rainstar's doodles
Asks - #flickerasks
Lore (Outside of Chapters) - #flickerlore
Personal - #patch rambles
I also reblog to @patchs-patch so look there for warriors art and other things I enjoy regarding this blog! <3
Gameplay Settings:
Stable | LifeGen
General Settings:
Automatically Save Every Five Moons | ON
Allow Mass Extiction Events | ON
Enable Auto Freshkill | OFF
Enable All Accessories | ON
Relation Settings:
Cats Can Have Kittens With Cats Who Aren't Their Mate | ON
Pregnancy Ignores Biology | ON
Increase Same Sex Adoption | ON
Allow Cats to Have Kits With a Second Unknown Parent | ON
Role Settings:
Allow Leaders to Automatically Choose a New Deputy | ON
Cats Will Never Retire Due to a Serious Condition | ON
Allow Warriors and Elders to Choose to Become Mediators | ON
Allow Warriors and Elders to Choose to Become Medicine Cats | ON
Allow Warriors and Elders to Choose to Become Queens | ON
Clan Stats:
Living Clan Cats: 80 (as of posting this, I am here to see them slowly be whittled down, that's the fun of the story~)
There was no gentle slide into sleep, no drifting haze or warmth. One heartbeat, she was curled in the comfort of the warriors' den beneath the hush of the night. The next, it was gone.
Suddenly, the ground beneath her paws was ash.
It clung to her fur in fine, weightless clouds, curling into the air like smoke with every step she took. The scent was dry and bitter, like scorched earth. Around her loomed trees. Trees that were towering, skeletal, and stripped bare of leaves. Their branches reached out like claws, rattling as if caught in a storm. But the air was utterly still.
Overhead, the sky shimmered with a pale, silver glow. It was cold and unnatural, yet somehow familiar, like a memory she couldn't quite grasp.
This wasn’t FlickerClan’s territory. She didn’t know how she knew. She just did.
A chill crept down her spine, curling under her pelt and settling deep in her bones. Something was watching.
“Hollowrunner.”
The voice didn’t come from any direction. It came from all of them. It wrapped around her like mist, soft but certain. She felt it more than heard it. It was a pressure in her chest, like the air itself had spoken.
“Silverpeak?”
The name escaped before she could stop it. Her conversation with Stormkit still lingered in the back of her mind.
From behind one of the trees, he appeared.
His pelt shimmered faintly, woven with starlight, constantly shifting as if he couldn’t quite hold shape. His edges flickered like a mirage, his fur bleeding into shadow, then back into form. Light clung to him in the wrong places, warping where it touched, and just looking at him made Hollowrunner’s eyes ache.
But it was his face that made her paws lock in place
One eye burned with a ghostly blue glow. The other socket was hollow, a pit of darkness that seemed to pull the light around it inward.
Hollowrunner sunk her claws into the ash beneath her.
Silverpeak's mouth never moved. His chest didn’t even rise or fall to breathe. He simply floated high enough so that his paws never met the ground as he floated by her.
“You’ve come farther than most,” Silverpeak mewed. The voice didn’t leave his jaws. It pressed into her thoughts, calm, cold, and absolute, as though the words had always existed inside her and were only now being remembered.
She staggered a step back, her hackles rising. “This isn’t real. Y-You’re dead!”
“Everything here is dead,” he replied. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”
She glanced down. The ash swirled around her paws, she left no trail despite it, and her paw prints were devoured as fast as she made them.
She suddenly felt small next to his visage.
“Why now?” She asked. “Why are you here?”
“Because it is time.”
No warmth. No anger. Just that same still clarity that made the air heavier.
“The Clan is shifting,” he meowed. “You might be the one to change what has long needed to shift. But first… you must uncover the truth. You must uncover what happened to me.”
The dead trees gave a low, groaning creak, like bones in rotten prey. And then came the fluttering. All around her, pale moth wings spilled from the branches like falling snow.
“You died in an accident,” Hollowrunner said. Her voice had gone flat, stiff with disbelief. “You were at the cliffs…”
Silverpeak turned toward her. The blue in his eye flared brighter.
“Is that what they told you?”
She froze. “They said—”
“They let you believe it because it was easier,” he said. “But I didn’t fall.”
The words landed like a stone in her chest.
“I was pushed.”
The forest froze. The moths hung motionless midair, as though time itself had drawn breath and held it.
“By who?” she whispered.
But he didn’t answer. He only turned and began walking deeper into the ash-choked forest, his tail carving a thin line in the dust.
Hollowrunner followed, each step slower than the last.
“Why me?” she asked. “Why not someone stronger? Someone braver? Shouldn’t you tell Auburnstar? I am not a medicine cat! Silverpeak!"
They passed beneath a massive, gnarled tree. Its roots jutted from the ground like the ribs of something ancient and buried. Something shifted beneath them, something big. Hollowrunner kept her gaze straight ahead.
“You were my mentor,” Silverpeak murmured without turning. “You listened. Even when they told you not to. Even when your doubt made you question your place in the Clan… you remembered.”
“I didn’t do anything,” she breathed.
“You remembered me. That’s where it starts.”
She stopped walking. “I don’t want this.”
He turned, and his expression—if it could even be called one—was unreadable. Like the stars pressed into the shape of a face hadn’t quite learned emotion.
“You don’t get to want,” he mewed. “You only get to know. That’s the price. Now listen close to what StarClan has brought for you and your mate, but let it reach no other.”
Suddenly, the air grew heavy. The silver light from above swelled, burning brighter. The ground trembled faintly beneath her paws.
Silverpeak lifted his head. When he spoke, it wasn’t just his voice. Dozens of others were layered behind it in a chorus of spirits. The old, the young, the mournful, and wrathful, until the ash-filled forest shook with their echo:
“Three shall rise where silence sleeps,
One of stars and silver flame,
One who stirs in shadowed deeps,
One without a voice or name.
When the dusk is drawn too long,
And echoes tear the veil in two,
One shall choose the final song:
To hush the world, or sing it true.”
The words sank into her like ice. She could feel them clinging to her fur, curling around her heart.
A sharp crack split the silence behind her.
She turned.
A shape unfolded from the shadows.
It didn’t walk, it stretched. It slithered between the trees like liquid shadow. The only thing she could see clearly were its eyes. These great, glowing emeralds, as grand as a monster's. For a moment a shiver of recognition struck through her. Had she seen those eyes before?
The ground split. Roots erupted upward, twisting and writhing like limbs. They dripped with black sludge, curling hungrily toward her.
The figure in the trees stared down at her, then burst into a cloud of silver moths.
She ran.
The forest howled behind her, the trees groaning as they bent inward. The moths chased her as fervently as embers on the wind.
Silverpeak did not follow.
And just before the dream shattered around her, as her paws blurred and the world tore at the edges she heard him one last time:
“Beware, Hollowrunner. Beware the forest of the night as you hunt! For now you have caught her attention.”
So, spoilers for what Piperstar's sprite looks like below, but have some rambles from Patch:
Behind the scenes - I hadn't written down specifics of what happened with Foxgrove and Piperstar outside of some base bullet points, so even though I loved her story it wasn't what I intended to use for my writing and future art.
FlickerClan had its angst and I would let it rest.
And then I tried to make a new Clan and this happened.
Needless to say I continued once I fixed it. After some very suspicious deaths I chose the new deputy Hollowrunner and decided to see what I could do.
I'm very excited to go back and add some art to my ramblings, I haven't been active in any part of the warriors fandom in years.
I'm also incredibly excited to write more of the through line after my little rambles.
I think I'm going to do what other blogs do and play ~12 moons ahead. I'm currently on moon 219 aka moon 4. I think I'll play until moon 12 aka moon 227 and take notes along the way for a more cohesive story.
annnnd with that i'm all caught up with everything i've written so far! i have a draft i'm working on currently for chapter 13 and chapter 14 but outside of that the spam is done for now!
i'm happy to host my edited warmups, hope to see y'all soon and i'm happy to be part of the community now <3
The wind had picked up again by the time Hollowrunner returned to camp, carrying with it the scent of fresh wildflowers and a fading warmth from the sunset. Most cats were settling into their nests or sharing tongues in quiet conversation. It was a peaceful evening, the kind Hollowrunner hoped would linger.
That peace didn’t last.
A flicker of silver darted past the corner of her vision near the nursery. It was small, quick, and not supposed to be outside. Hollowrunner narrowed her eyes.
“Stormkit,” she muttered.
Sure enough, just beyond the nursery entrance, a tiny shape crouched low in the grass, trying very hard, and failing, not to be seen.
The silver and white tabby had her haunches neatly tucked, tail wrapped in near-perfect posture, but her copper eyes gave her away. They were wide with purpose, glowing in the dim light, too focused to be innocent.
Hollowrunner padded closer, her steps deliberate. “Stormkit,” she meowed softly. “Should I be seeing you out here, little one?”
Stormkit didn’t flinch. She almost looked...offended?
“I had no choice,” she declared, rising with a graceful flick of her tail. “It is atrociously warm inside the nursery this evening. The moss retains heat like a sun-touched rock and the air is simply stifling. I came out to...how should I put this...refresh my senses!”
Hollowrunner flicked her tail curiously. Stormkit was only three-moons old. She stifled a laugh as she listened to the kit repeat words she clearly didn't understand.
“You’re quite young to be speaking so fancy.” She meowed.
“I’m very articulate for my age,” Stormkit mewed, as if that explained everything. “If others my size prefer to babble and tumble, that’s their choice. I happen to enjoy the finer things: cool breezes, order, and a proper bedtime routine.”
She gave her chest a neat lick for emphasis.
Hollowrunner blinked, she was caught off guard. Not by the drama. She’d seen kits act theatrical before, but by the way Stormkit held herself. Her careful cadence. Her desire for structure. Her need to be understood, not just heard.
Just for a fleeting moment, it was like looking at Silverpeak again.
Her only apprentice. His silver and white pelt that shone in the sun like Stormkit's. Too mature for his moons. She remembered how he used to schedule his own battle practice with other warriors, how he memorized every herb Hollowrunner ever mentioned in passing due to Jasminelarch even though he wasn’t training as a medicine cat.
He’d died so young.
The Clan had called it an accident. A border misstep. But something about it had always rung false in Hollowrunner’s chest, something cold and quiet and unfinished.
She shook the thought away and found Stormkit still staring at her, waiting for a response.
“You’re three moons old,” Hollowrunner muttered.
Stormkit frowned. “Yeah?”
“Nevermind,” Hollowrunner murmured, then shook her head. “I’m not upset. Just... surprised. You remind me of someone.”
Stormkit tilted her head, suddenly shy.
After a pause, Hollowrunner flicked her tail toward the nursery. “Come on. Back inside, before Gossamersting notices you’re gone. I won’t be the one explaining this.”
Stormkit hesitated, then raised her head delicately to the air. “Very well. But I want it noted for the record that this is not an admission of guilt.”
“Duly noted.”
Stormkit stood, tall as she could manage, and padded back to the nursery with careful steps. Before ducking inside, she turned and added, “Please do consider the moss situation. And perhaps new bedding as a whole. It would revolutionize nap time.”
Then she vanished into the brambles.
Hollowrunner stood still for a moment longer, her eyes on the swaying nursery entrance, her thoughts far away.
Stormkit was tidy, patient, dramatic, and smarter than she had any right to be.
Just like Silverpeak. She would need to get rid of this association if she were going to the nursery soon. Maybe it would be better to avoid the nursery as soon as possible if she would be sharing it with a grim reminder of her mistakes.
She sighed and turned away. She’d keep a closer eye on this one anyhow.
Hollowrunner stretched and padded out of the warriors’ den after an afternoon nap. The sun sat low in the sky. Her duties were done for the day. The dusk patrols already chosen, apprentices training or resting, and she had one last thing to do before the light slipped away: a much-needed outing with Jasminelarch, under the clever disguise of herb-gathering.
She flexed her claws happily as she stretched, nothing would keep her from this.
“Hollowrunner! Just the face I wanted to see,” purred a familiar voice.
She blinked herself more awake, only to find herself nose to nose with Orangesun. His long dark ginger fur brushed the ground and his yellow eyes were as mellow as always, unreadable behind an easy smile.
“Hello, Orangesun,” she mewed. “You’re not here for a patrol. So what is it? Am I due for mediation? I’ve been trying not to mutter about curses or ghosts since Amberripple nearly clawed my ears off.”
He laughed. “No, no. The whole Clan’s already heard about your little spat. But I’ve heard something else...something about you and Amberripple. Something about kits.”
She stiffened.
“And what would that be?” she asked, her voice steady.
“You were wondering about having kits of your own one day.”
Hollowrunner narrowed her eyes. “Maybe. I’ve had a hunch. Why exactly do you care?”
“Kits are a massive responsibility,” Orangesun said, purring in a honeyed tone. “I’m sure you know that. But it’s more than feathers and mossballs. Are you sure you’d be a good mother?”
The words were spoken softly, but Hollowrunner heard what was beneath them. She felt the doubt and the judgment. Maybe even fear. They struck her like thorns. It made her fur prickle.
“I’m going to be a fine mother, Orangesun.”
There was a stillness in her voice that left no room for argument. She wasn't quite sure what made her so certain, but in the moment she felt all of the confidence of StarClan in her chest.
She turned before he could speak again and padded away.
Jasminelarch stood at the edge of the clearing, sunlight against his shoulders. He waited like a soft leaf in the breeze. His ears flicked as she approached. “What did Orangesun say? I swear, if he hurt you—”
Hollowrunner pressed into his side. “He was fine. Let’s go before our duties catch up to us.”
They left camp at an easy pace, paws brushing through the soft ferns as the forest made way before them. Jasminelarch led the way to the flower field. A place they both knew well, nestled between the rolling hills on the far edge of FlickerClan territory. It was late enough in greenleaf for the flowers to be tall and full, their colors painting the field in brilliant reds, purples, and golds.
They spent the first while in silence, collecting plants that would impress even Bluegaze. Jasminelarch tucked herbs into his chest fur with care. Hollowrunner, for once, didn’t speak about curses or omens. She just breathed in the scents of the plants and watched Jasminelarch in his element.
Then Jasminelarch flicked a petal at her nose.
Hollowrunner blinked in surprise.
He darted away with a teasing grin, his tail flashing through the wildflowers.
Hollowrunner stared after him for half a heartbeat, then gave chase.
They raced across the field like apprentices again, petals flying behind them in streaks of color. Jasminelarch was faster than she remembered, but she was stronger. She caught up just as the sun met the horizon. With a playful growl, he tackled her gently into the tall flowers and they tumbled together into the clearing.
Petals floated through the air like rain.
They landed in a tangled heap, breathless with laughter.
Hollowrunner blinked up at the sky, face warm with something she didn’t want to name yet. Jasminelarch was beside her, watching her with a soft smile that said more than any words could.
The world felt quiet. The previous cold and whispers on the wind were nowhere to be found as she bounded through the flowers with Jasminelarch.
Sheepshade had looked so proud earlier that day, stepping into her new role in the Clan. Hollowrunner wondered... Would she look that proud someday? Would the Clan ever see her the same way? Would they greet her with gratitude when she became leader?
And if she never did, if something happened to her, would they carry her kindness forward, pass it on to the kits who would one day be warriors?
She glanced sideways at Jasminelarch and felt a quiet blush rise under her fur.
And then, as if summoned by the weight of that thought, Amberripple stepped out from the edge of the field like a memory made real.
Hollowrunner sat up in surprise. “Amberripple?”
Jasminelarch’s fur bristled. “Why are you here, Amberripple?”
The queen’s expression was unreadable, but her eyes held no fire. “I didn’t come to argue."
Jasminelarch looked between them, uncertain. Then he moved closer to Hollowrunner and brushed his tail along her flank, curling it softly around hers.
Amberripple sat across from them. Close enough to be heard, but not close enough to crowd. The silence stretched between them, its presence overwhelming.
“I’m sorry,” Amberripple said at last. “For what I said before. You didn’t deserve that.”
Hollowrunner nodded toward Jasminelarch, and he dipped his head. “I’ll give you two a moment,” he murmured before slipping off into the flowers.
Hollowrunner stared at the grass beneath her paws. “You were grieving. I understand.”
“I still shouldn’t have blamed you. The rogues… that wasn’t your fault.”
The silence that followed wasn’t sharp anymore. It was soft. Exhausted. Amberripple’s tail twitched once, then sat still.
"I'm terrified, Amberripple," Hollowrunner admitted. "These stories hang over FlickerClan like pine branches, but no cat ever wants to explain them. I have only had a few moons as deputy, but I expected to learn more than this. Instead, all I feel is more paranoia that something may go wrong the same way it did with Graystar."
Amberripple's expression softened. "One day I will tell you what I remember. I don't wish to, and I am sure that is one reason why so many cats are hesitant to give you answers...Great StarClan, when I heard you spoke to Scorchfern it was as if this fear I thought was gone came over me again. It is difficult to speak about these things, Hollowrunner. Think about how you might feel speaking to an apprentice about Graystar."
The two cats found themselves in silence once again.
“Do you ever think about Piperstar?” Hollowrunner murmured.
Amberripple didn’t respond at first.
“Sometimes,” she mewed. “I try not to. She was… complicated.”
“I don’t want to become her,” Hollowrunner whispered. “But I don’t know what to do with everything I’m feeling. I’m scared. Not just of curses or ghosts. Of what kind of cat I’ll become if I lose too much more.”
Amberripple didn’t offer wisdom or comfort. She just shifted closer and lay down beside her in the tall grass.
They stayed like that as the last of the sun dipped below the horizon.
"Then think about the sky with me for now, Hollowrunner. Look towards the clouds."
Above them, the sky shone in golden and soft reds. Hollowrunner lifted her muzzle toward the clouds.
Jasminelarch returned quietly, brushing his pelt against hers as he lay down again.
Amberripple followed Hollowrunner’s gaze and lifted her tail to point at a drifting shape.
“That one looks like a rabbit.”
Hollowrunner squinted. “It looks more like a plump squirrel to me.”
“There’s a flower,” Jasminelarch added, pointing to another. “There, see it?”
The three of them lay there, bathed in the warm hush of sunset, pointing out shapes in the sky like kits at the edge of the nursery.
The light dimmed. The grass swayed gently around them.
After a long silence, with only the rustle of petals and the faint hush of twilight, Hollowrunner spoke again, the words shook in her mouth, but not out of fear, but instead out of a strange certainty.
She drew in a breath, then let it out slowly.
“You both must not tell a soul yet,” she murmured, her voice barely audible enough to hear above the crickets. “But I… I think I’m pregnant.”
The words hung in the air like pollen. This came from nowhere, yet Hollowrunner could not be more certain.
As the clouds passed by she wondered how the mother she never met felt when she had this same realization. Did she look at the sky as Hollowrunner did? Was she scared?
Jasminelarch’s head turned quickly, his golden eyes wide, but warm. Amberripple looked over, too, ears tilting gently, her gaze soft and steady.
“I’ll announce it to the Clan soon,” Hollowrunner added, her voice trembling with emotion she tried to contain. “But I trust you both. An experienced nursery queen not afraid to claw my nose off if I'm wrong and my mate. I am lucky StarClan gave me both of you."
Jasminelarch brushed his flank against hers, his purr deep and immediate. “We’ll be with you, every step,” he promised.
Amberripple didn’t speak at first. She just rested her tail lightly against Hollowrunner’s. “You’ll make a fine mother,” she mewed at last.
The three of them lay in silence, curled into the hush of the coming night.
No more words were needed.
Above, the stars blinked into being, slow and deliberate. Below, the tall grass rustled softly around them, like a lullaby sung by the earth itself.
And though Hollowrunner knew she should return soon, and she knew that questions would come if she lingered too long; she let her eyes drift shut for a moment longer.
Perhaps her paranoia was only her worry of handling her duties and kits...perhaps there was nothing more.
StarClan and those around her would guide her enough. She was deputy for a reason.
The forest was golden with early greenleaf light, the wind howling with the warm breezes of the season. FlickerClan gathered at the roots of the Fallenpine, its great trunk lying hollow and ancient in the clearing. The warriors stood in quiet anticipation. Apprentices sat with twitching ears, and the elders had made their slow, deliberate way to the front.
Auburnstar stood atop the fallen trunk, her tail curled around her paws. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Fallenpine for a Clan meeting!”
Her voice carried easily through the woods, bright against the hush of the trees.
Burnshadow stepped forward.
The dark brown she-cat moved with a deliberate grace, her white markings like snow melting on soil. One of her hind legs still trembled faintly from the battle moons ago, but her yellow eyes were steady. She held her head up proud. She had not been driven from her duties. She had chosen this.
“I’ve served FlickerClan with my whole heart,” Burnshadow said, her voice firm. “But it’s time I let the next generation lead. I’ll be retiring to the elder’s den, and I do so with peace in my paws.”
A quiet murmur passed through the crowd. Not surprise, as she had limped a little more each moon, but something softer. Hollowrunner could feel a mix of grief with the gratitude that filled the air of the cats.
Cobaltnight yowled her name first, his voice breaking on the final syllable. Roanfoot followed, proud and loud. Morningthrift leapt onto a stone to cheer.
“Burnshadow! Burnshadow!”
Hollowrunner stayed quiet at first, watching the old cat step down with grace. She dipped her head low, a deep, solemn respect in her chest.
Later, as the crowd began to drift, Hollowrunner padded up to her.
“You’ve lost so much,” she murmured gently. “More than most cats know.
Burnshadow gave a soft huff. “We all lose something in the end. I just kept going until it made sense to stop.”
“Do you think Floodleaf ever meant to come back?” Hollowrunner asked.
The question had long lived in her chest, but now it escaped like breath on cold air.
Burnshadow didn’t answer right away. Her eyes flicked to the trees, to the west where the mountains beyond the Great Falls lay.
“I don’t know,” she said at last. “Sometimes I think she’s dead. Sometimes I think she just chose the silence over us. But when I saw those rogues at the Rotplace… part of me wondered.”
Hollowrunner tensed. “You think she became one of them?”
“I think she was running from something. Maybe it caught her. Maybe she let it.” Burnshadow’s gaze softened. “But I don’t think she would’ve hurt our Clan. Not on purpose.”
Burnshadow stretched slowly and winced. “Let the past stay buried, Hollowrunner. It has claws.”
As Burnshadow padded away toward the elder’s den, Hollowrunner stared after her, her fur twitching with unease.
The rogues were still out there.
And some ghosts didn’t stay buried forever.
❦❦❦
Twilight settled softly over FlickerClan as cats gathered beneath the Fallenpine once more. The air was warm, dappled with the scent of greenleaf blooms. A breeze stirred the branches as Auburnstar leapt onto the low rise, her eyes scanning the gathered Clan.
“Sheeppaw,” she called, “step forward.”
The marbled tabby moved with cautious grace, her long fur fluffed and gleaming. She had clearly spent extra time grooming. Her coat lay smooth and tidy despite the warm breeze, and her yellow eyes shone with quiet pride.
“Sheeppaw,” Auburnstar said, voice gentler than usual, “you have chosen to serve the Clan in one of its most sacred roles. You’ve shown patience, compassion, and care beyond your moons. From this day on, you will be known as Sheepshade, a queen of FlickerClan, trusted to guide and protect our youngest.”
Sheepshade dipped her head, though her whiskers trembled with emotion.
“May StarClan bless your path, and may your nest always be warm.”
A soft chorus rose up as the Clan echoed her new name.
“Sheepshade! Sheepshade!”
Sheepshade blinked quickly, clearly holding back tears. “I wasn’t going to cry,” she murmured, her voice caught in the back of her throat. “But this means more than I can say.”
Several cats padded forward to touch noses with her. Friends, mentors, nursery queens she’d helped over the moons. Sheepshade greeted them all with soft purrs, making sure every kit’s fur was clean.
“She’s been ready for this for a long time,” Hollowrunner said under her breath, watching from the crowd.
Jasminelarch nodded beside her. “She’s got the steadiest paws in camp. And the cleanest fur!"
“Just don’t get moss on her bedding,” Hollowrunner added with a smirk. “She’ll have your tail!"
The two of shared a laugh, and Sheepshade turned just in time to catch it. Her eyes sparkled, and she lifted her chin with pride.
She wasn’t a warrior. She didn’t need to be. She had found her place, and in times like these, that was no small thing.
I wonder if she’ll ever look after mine, Hollowrunner thought.
The idea struck her harder than she expected. She glanced sideways at Jasminelarch. The evening light caught his fur in warm gold, his eyes soft and bright with the remnants of laughter.
Hollowrunner blinked and looked away, suddenly shy.
If I ever have kits, she thought, would the Clan be proud of them? Would Sheepshade keep them safe if I couldn’t?
The wind stirred through the pines, carrying the scent of warm moss and wildflowers.
She didn’t have the answer yet.
She turned to leave the clearing and nearly ran into Amberripple.
“Careful,” Amberripple muttered, her tail flicking as she stepped back.
Hollowrunner blinked. “Sorry. Didn’t see you there.”
Amberripple studied her, her expression unreadable. Her fur still prickled from stress and the lingering grief from her mate, but her eyes were sharp and alert as ever.
“You’ve been watching Sheepshade too,” Hollowrunner mewed. Though it was more of a thought than a question.
Amberripple nodded once. “She’s ready.”
They stood in silence for a moment, both gazing toward the nursery where Sheepshade was already curled with one of the younger kits nestled close to her.
Hollowrunner hesitated. “Do you think the Clan would be proud of… kits I raised?”
Amberripple turned her head slightly, enough to meet Hollowrunner’s gaze. “If they carry your fight, your stubbornness, your protectiveness?” She paused, then sighed, “Yes. I believe they’d be lucky.”
It wasn’t forgiveness.
But it wasn’t a warning, either.
Simply the truth, and that was all.
Hollowrunner gave a small nod. “Thank you.”
Amberripple flicked her tail. “Don’t make me regret saying it.”
And with that, she turned back toward camp.
Hollowrunner remained a moment longer, watching the golden light drift across the clearing.
Dusktail’s patrol returned by sunset, their pelts dusted with dry leaves and the scent of pine. Hollowrunner watched them from the high rock outside Auburnstar’s den, her tail flicked with quiet anticipation.
“No rogues,” Dusktail reported, his voice even. “Plenty of stale scent, at least a few sunrises old. No nests, no prey remains. Just dust and rot.”
Hollowrunner gave a slight nod, though unease still prickled her pelt. Something about it didn’t sit right. Dusktail held her gaze for a moment, flicked one ear in quiet skepticism, and turned away toward the fresh-kill pile. His job was done.
That night, Hollowrunner left the camp on her own.
She didn’t tell Jasminelarch or Bluegaze. She didn’t speak to Auburnstar. She simply slipped through the brambles and into the trees, moving like a shadow. Whatever was stirring at the edge of their land, it wouldn’t leave her mind.
The Rotplace loomed through the undergrowth like a dead thing, half-swallowed by ivy and silence. Moss had crept up the stone walls, clinging like mold on old bone. The air was thick with mildew and something deeper, something that smelled of old secrets.
Hollowrunner stepped through a gap in the wall. Her paws were nearly silent on the crumbling floor, but each step echoed in her chest. The shadows here were strange, like they were watching.
Then she saw them.
Three rogues waited among the rubble, their eyes catching the faint light. They didn’t speak, didn’t move right away. One of them stood—a broad-shouldered tom with deep scars and a heavy, hostile stillness. His tail lashed once, and he unsheathed his claws.
Hollowrunner didn’t flinch. She lifted her head and straightened her posture, planting her paws where she stood, as still as a tree.
“This is FlickerClan’s land,” she said. Her voice was low. “Leave, or I’ll drag you out myself.”
For a long moment, no one moved. Then the tom snarled, his fangs caught the sunlight as his eyes flashed sharp and defiant. But there was hesitation in his eyes. Something about the way Hollowrunner stood, unbothered and unwavering, unnerved him. He looked to the others, and with a clipped command, they turned and disappeared through the back wall like smoke in the wind.
Hollowrunner waited in the silence, heart pounding in her throat. Only once the den was empty again did she retreat.
By dawn, she had returned to camp. Mud clung to her tail, and dried sap flaked from her fur. Her steps were careful, but her mind reeled with what she had seen.
Auburnstar was already outside her den.
She looked almost unchanged from the moons before—tall and striking, her face split between soft ginger and deep red. But there was something different now. Once, warmth had flickered in her hazel eyes, a quiet steadiness that offered comfort even in hard decisions. Now both eyes looked sharp, unreadable. The gentler half of her face no longer softened the harder one. It was as if something had turned cold within her, and the balance she once held had shifted.
Hollowrunner told her everything.
Auburnstar listened in silence. Her expression unchanged.
“And they backed down,” she meowed quietly. “Just because of you?”
“They weren’t expecting a fight,” Hollowrunner replied.
Auburnstar flicked a wilted tulip petal off her shoulder and gave a faint hum. “Strong rogues like that might be useful one day. We’ll keep an eye on them.”
That was not the answer Hollowrunner wanted. Her stomach twisted, but she swallowed any protest. Auburnstar had already turned away, her tail trailing behind her as she stepped back inside her den.
The conversation was over.
Hollowrunner stood in the thinning light of morning, alone, the scent of the Rotplace still caught in her nose and the memory of those watching eyes heavy on her mind.
By the next sunrise, Hollowrunner hadn’t slept. The rogues’ eyes still burned behind her eyelids whenever she blinked. No amount of pine-needle bedding or rinsing her pelt in the stream could wash away the stink of the Rotplace. Dusktail’s patrol had reported no nests, no rogues, nothing to fear, but Hollowrunner couldn’t let it go. The silence of that house had settled into her bones. She kept seeing things in the corners of her vision. Hearing things at night.
Something was wrong.
So she sent another patrol. Falconfoot. Quaildazzle. Mechanicsbeetle. Warriors with sharp eyes and sharper instincts. Falconfoot hadn’t trusted her hunches in the past, but she’d gone anyway.
The three cats didn’t come back.
By sunhigh the next day, Hollowrunner led a search patrol into the Rotplace herself. The air there felt stale, like it had been holding its breath since she last entered. The porch groaned beneath their paws.
Quaildazzle lay across the steps, his throat opened in one clean rip. Mechanicsbeetle’s long brown spotted pelt was torn and bloodied. Her claws were buried in a scrap of rogue fur. She had fought to the end.
Falconfoot was deeper inside, curled tight with her tail around her belly as if bracing for the final blow.
Three warriors. Gone.
The patrol carried the bodies home in silence.
The clan gathered beneath the Mourning Pine. The elders stood in stillness. The kits cried for Quaildazzle. And Hollowrunner said nothing, her voice buried somewhere under the weight in her chest.
Then Amberripple came.
She stormed across camp with fury in her eyes. Her emerald gaze was sharp as a hawk’s, her voice low and shaking with rage.
“YOU!”
The other nursery queens gasped. They shielded the kits’ ears, pulling them close. Amberripple was never meant to look like this—wild and unraveled.
Hollowrunner froze.
“Outside. Now,” Amberripple snarled.
They walked in silence until the trees muffled the camp behind them.
Amberripple whirled to meet Hollowrunner's gaze. “You brought this on us.”
“Something was wrong,” Hollowrunner said quickly. “I just needed to be sure the rogues were gone. I was trying to protect the clan.”
Amberripple’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen the way you look at the trees. Heard the way you mutter about Piperstar when you think no one’s listening.”
Hollowrunner’s ears twitched, stunned. She hadn’t realized anyone had noticed.
“You think I don’t know what madness looks like?” Amberripple’s voice trembled, not with fear but memory. “Piperstar was one of my mothers.”
Hollowrunner blinked, speechless.
“I was just a kit when she started to unravel. I watched her wander the clearing at night like she was chasing ghosts. I heard her whispering to things that weren’t there. I watched her fall apart.” Amberripple’s claws dug into the earth. “If there was a curse, I would know. I lived through it. But there’s no haunting here, Hollowrunner. No curse. Just you.”
She took a breath, her chest rising and falling like the moment before a storm.
“You’re the problem. Your paranoia. Your obsession with things that don’t exist. You’re chasing shadows while real cats are dying.”
“I only wanted to help,” Hollowrunner murmured.
“Then help us now,” Amberripple snapped. “Stop digging up bones that should’ve stayed buried. Because if any more of us die, I’ll make sure every cat knows who to blame.”
She turned and stalked back toward camp, her tail lashing behind her.
Hollowrunner stood alone, the wind whispering through the trees around her.
Whatever was watching the clan, whether ghost or guilt, it had already begun to feed.
And it had claimed more than a dream or a whisper.
A moon passed and Hollowrunner found herself in the leader’s den. She ducked beneath the ivy-covered arch and padded across the soft earth.
New decorations lined its edges. Hollowrunner guessed that Woollydrizzle helped with a majority of them to cheer her mate up, and it looked like it worked. Various raven feathers wove themselves in between pine needles, red wildflowers, and birch sticks.
Auburnstar was no longer grieving. She still groomed herself vigorously, as if she were worried a single hair out of place might cause a disaster. Even the tulip petals she adorned her pelt with hung onto her pretty tortoiseshell pelt like they had claws themselves. The petals shone in the sun as brightly as Auburnstar’s fur some days. Hollowrunner wondered if Auburnstar enjoyed that the petals seemed to match both sides of her pelt.
Auburnstar finished her work and raised her head.
“You have done a good job, Hollowrunner.” She meowed. “Thank you for taking up my duties while I grieved. Even if it was expected of you, I am grateful nonetheless.”
Hollowrunner bowed her head. “Thank you, and I am glad you are back on your feet, Auburnstar. I hope you are doing better...”
“I am." Auburnstar mewed cooly. "I had much to think about during that time. Have you checked on the Rotplace lately?”
Hollowrunner hesitated. The Rotplace was an old and abandoned Twoleg nest where rogues loved to gather. In leaf-bare, it occasionally offered fresh-kill, but it was more trouble than it was worth.
“We did our usual check. There was nothing—”
“Go again,” Auburnstar interrupted, voice sharp. “Organize a patrol. Now.”
Hollowrunner flicked her ears. She trusted her leader, but there was no reason to be so impatient!
“Understood,” she replied. “Is there anything else?”
“Do you have the other evening patrols in order?”
“Yes.”
“Then go. We’ll speak later. I wish to know about the new kits especially, but only once the Rotplace is settled.”
Hollowrunner dipped her head and slipped out of the den. The sun hit her fur, but her thoughts stayed clouded. What was so urgent about the Rotplace? Had grief turned Auburnstar impatient or had something else shifted?
She shook her head. The conversation buzzed in her mind like a trapped fly, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling it left behind.
❦❦❦
She headed for the warriors’ den, poked her head inside, and nudged a sleeping gray-and-white tom.
“Dusktail,” she hissed. “Wake up.”
Dusktail blinked groggily and stretched as he stepped into the sunlight, grooming his paws. The warmth caught the edges of his pelt, but Hollowrunner couldn’t shake the chill at the base of her spine.
“Thank you for keeping me on my paws, Hollowrunner,” he grumbled. “What can your favorite warrior do for you?”
She ignored his sarcasm. “I want you to lead a patrol to the Rotplace and tell me what you find. Be careful. All I need is a scout. If any scent is fresh, come back for more cats. Take who you want, but no apprentices.”
“You really want me leading it?” Dusktail’s voice was flat, the sarcasm gone. But his whiskers twitched with curiosity.
Hollowrunner’s gaze drifted past the clearing. Bluegaze and Jasminelarch stood at the entrance of the medicine den, tails flicking, and worry written across their faces.
“I trust you more than I like you, Dusktail. You’re a capable warrior,” she muttered. “We’re kin. We can figure out everything else later.”
She didn’t give him a chance to reply. Without hesitation, she bounded over to Bluegaze and Jasminelarch.
Jasminelarch exhaled in relief. “Thank StarClan! I thought you were going on that patrol.”
Her fur prickled. “What’s wrong?”
Hollowrunner started to speak, but Bluegaze cut her off. She stayed quiet, but she couldn't help but let bitterness stir in her chest. Sure, why let the deputy get a word in?
“I’ve had dreams, Hollowrunner." He mewed. "I mean, I'm sure what they mean... could be an omen, could be something else. But the Clan’s about to change. And you’d best not tell Auburnstar.”
“What?!” Hollowrunner yowled, her eyes wide in shock.
The cats around the clearing froze, their ears twitching as the conversation shifted. Hollowrunner coughed, a nervous heat creeping up her neck.
“Don’t look at her,” Bluegaze snapped, his tone sharp. “Your deputy is perfectly healthy. It’s none of your business. What are you, ticks?”
The cats muttered and returned to their work, glancing away. Hollowrunner met Bluegaze’s eyes with silent gratitude.
“I can’t lie to my leader,” she whispered, ensuring no one else could hear.
“It isn’t lying. It's hiding the truth for a bit.” Bluegaze meowed.
“That's the same thing.”
Jasminelarch pressed his body into hers and purred. “It won't be forever, Hollowrunner. We want you to be safe is all.”
Instantly, some of the tension eased, his warmth offering quiet comfort.
Bluegaze nodded. “Stay curious, stay loyal, but be careful. Keep your ears pricked. Things aren’t always as they seem.”
In the corner of her eye, Hollowrunner saw Dusktail wave his tail in parting as he led his patrol toward the Rotplace. She sighed and waved back with her tail, watching the patrol vanish out of camp.
She watched the patrol vanish into the trees, their pelts swallowed by shadows. Something in her chest twisted—not fear, no, but the silence before a storm.
Bluegaze’s advice echoed in her mind. The clan was changing, and that storm was coming, but she didn’t know if the storm would break in the forest…or within camp.
Scorchfern raised his head and offered a knowing look to Hollowrunner.
“And what have I done to deserve the company of our esteemed deputy?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Hollowrunner dropped the vole in front of him. “I wanted to talk to you. Jasminelarch said you had stories about Piperstar.”
Scorchfern’s expression shifted, and he accepted the vole with a weary but fond smile. “Ah, you know how to bribe an old cat into talking. I don’t know another furball in the clan who loves fat voles as much as I do.”
Hollowrunner flicked her tail uneasily. “You don’t have to speak about it if it makes you uncomfortable.”
He shook his head, the flicker of memory softening his features. “No, no. I want to. But I must ask first...how did this come up?”
Hollowrunner hesitated before answering, her voice quieter. “I’m worried about the curse.”
“Hm.” Scorchfern’s brow furrowed slightly. “So Jasminelarch sent you to me, did he? You know, Owlear’s a living kit of Piperstar, as is Amberripple.”
“I know. Jasminelarch said you had stories to tell, but I could go to them afterward if you prefer.”
Scorchfern gestured to the spot beside him with a twitch of his tail. “Well, what’s the point of being an elder if I can’t share a story or two in exchange for a vole?”
Hollowrunner sat down beside him, curling her tail around his in a sign of comfort. Scorchfern didn’t seem to mind, and she gave him a small, thankful purr for his understanding.
“I never met Piperstar,” Scorchfern began. “I was born only a few moons after she died. It caused quite a stir because I looked nearly identical to her, and some cats still haunted by her actions believed I was her spirit come back to take revenge. Fear changes cats, Hollowrunner. I was born into a clan so on edge they feared a kit.” Scorchfern chuckled, but a shadow lingered in his eyes.
Hollowrunner flicked her ear to signal she was still listening, her gaze fixed on the elder.
“My mother, Patchspot, told me Piperstar considered her one of her favorite kits. She looked the most like her other mother, Foxgrove. They had several litters, but my mother and her sister were their first, and my mother always had a sadness in her eyes when she spoke of them. Piperstar would’ve burned the world down to keep Foxgrove warm.”
Hollowrunner blinked in confusion. She remembered Foxgrove as a beloved, older medicine cat. The long-haired tortoiseshell with two different colored eyes had always been a bit forgetful, but Hollowrunner had attributed that to her age. How had she been Piperstar's beloved? She had died of old age!
Scorchfern’s tail flicked with amusement as he caught the confusion in her expression.
“Yes, that Foxgrove,” he mewed. “My mother told me that, as a punishment for Piperstar and as an apology for how much Piperstar took from Foxgrove, one day Foxgrove came back to camp. She was alive and as vibrant as ever, but with little memory of anything before. All she could recall was her love for being a medicine cat and her loyalty to FlickerClan. No one had the heart to tell her. So she lived a new life, an altered life, due to StarClan’s influence. Of course, there were always doubts. I remember cats wondered if StarClan had truly brought her back or if she had faked her death to run away. But I don’t believe she could’ve done such a thing. It sounds believable enough to me that StarClan might have done something like that for someone as kind and loyal as Foxgrove.”
Hollowrunner kneaded the ground in front of her, her thoughts swirling like leaves in the wind. Foxgrove had always reminded her of a sunset. She was something strangely alluring, a beauty that seemed to extend beyond what Foxgrove even knew she held. She’d heard the tales of Foxgrove’s multiple mates, one of them being Graystar, but Piperstar? Hollowrunner couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deeper there. Perhaps Piperstar had always wanted Foxgrove for herself, even from beyond the grave.
“Scorchfern,” Hollowrunner mewed, breaking the silence, “did Foxgrove know you were her grandkit?”
Scorchfern nodded slowly, a distant look crossing his face. “Vaguely. But there was always a faraway look in her eyes when she thought too long about her kin. I often wonder if she truly found comfort in Pollenshade and Mistleelk, or if something always felt missing.”
Hollowrunner pondered his words, then meowed, “What about you, Scorchfern?”
He took a bite of the vole, chewing thoughtfully before purring. “I’ve made my peace with her. I worry more about the rest of my family now, including her.” His gaze softened, his eyes twinkling with amusement, “You found a good vole, Hollowrunner.”
Hollowrunner smiled faintly, her thoughts lingered on how the grief of losing her brother Cloverfuzz and her father Ashberry still stung, even after moons. She’d learned to live with it, but that didn’t mean the grief ever truly left. It simply became another part of her life, like a shadow she could never outrun.
She wondered if Scorchfern had days when the grief of his family hurt like it hadn’t in moons, or if he had truly found peace with his losses. How much had he lost, and what had he seen to make him the cat he was today?
She studied his face, searching for any sign beneath the contentment, but Scorchfern’s expression was light, his joy entirely focused on the vole. It was a quiet, simple joy, one that Hollowrunner longed for but could never quite grasp in the same way.
“May I eat with you?” she mewed softly.
“As long as you grab your own vole!” Scorchfern teased. “This one’s mine!”
Hollowrunner chuckled softly, and rose to her paws. She grabbed a thrush from the fresh-kill pile and returned to sit beside Scorchfern.
They spent the remainder of the afternoon in quiet understanding, sharing tales of the past, laughing over memories, and grooming each other in the sun. For a brief while, the weight of their burdens seemed to lighten, and Hollowrunner allowed herself to do exactly what Jasminelarch wished for her, and stay in the simple pleasure of the moment.
