Infodumping since they're very near & dear to me, but at the current moment, I don't have time to make additional content on them.
Mama - big white molly named Moonlight. Papa - a small-ish blue cat named Ottertooth.
Yes, Ottertooth really loves swimming.
Otter is a very energetic & lighthearted cat, while Moon gives off more mysterious energy, speaking slowly and with long winding sentences.
Remember how some mollies prefer raising their kids alone instead of tying themselves to one mate? So, these two are the opposite: since meeting each other in early apprenticeship, Otter and Moon became inseparable for life.
Otter courted her with a rock. Don't ask.
Their relationship dynamic? Gomez & Morticia Addams, but with less morbid vibes.
Their deep infatuation with each other, sadly, played an evil trick on them. When Moonlight passed, Ottertooth didn't last long either, dying from broken heart syndrome.
Their scars come from battles with ThornClan. Even back then, ThornClan was attempting to seize Wood's territories, but with poor planning on their part and a good defense on Wood's part, these attempts failed horribly.
Half of the reason why Feather was so determined to be a warrior is her mama. In her prime years, Moonlight became a sort of legendary warrior, combining her immense size & power with grace & agility seen in few cats prior, making her a force to reckon with on the battlefield.
And yet, neither Otter nor Moon pushed Featherfur to chase the path of a warrior. This "Bedtime story", so no further clarification on that, tee-hee.
And some additional (badly aged) concept art for small Featherfur, as a treat. Remember the mention of "massive white marking"? In first version of her design, Moonlight was supposed to have a red tail, but I've made her lucistic white (big thank you from guys on CC community server for helping me figuring cat's genetics).
StarClan split the velvet curtain of the sky, and the ensuing light shattered the world.
Fire burned despite the downpour of water from the heavens. The Two-Legs vessel was cast in all directions to be shredded by the gnashing teeth of the ocean. Into the hungry foam, Heronpaw fell.
Lavenderstar had told her that StarClan would return for everyone one day, be it in their dreams or through the hooked claw of another cat. It was a good thing, to be reunited with your loved ones. Heronpaw was so young, she could not imagine this happening to her quite yet.
Striking the churning water, she thought of Lavenderstar, she thought of her brother and sister in Starclan.
Were they scared, too?
Heronpaw was not allowed the luxury of fear for more than a breath. Adrenaline jolted through her and her paws scrambled for purchase in the murky darkness. She was suspended in the void of the sea, weightless and sinking all at once. Above her, the sickly pallor of the full moon, and beneath her, glimmering StarClan.
She felt their paws grazing hers. She could hear her name, spoken so far away and so warbled that it could have been a dream.
Heronpaw wanted it to be a dream. Yet, dreams did not involve drowning kits, and there was one entering the tide but a whiskers distance away from her.
Longkit.
She knew little of him, as he was less than a moon old and far too young to ever interact with, yet he was sinking like a leaden weight. The sunny orange of his fur was the only thing she had noticed, so jarring a sight against the void. Heronpaw cycled her paws in a frenzy, breaching the water’s surface.
She sucked in frigid air that stung her lungs, but did not linger. Heronpaw descended back into the depths, snatching Longkit in her jaws. He did not fight back. Distantly, Heronpaw thought that he was so small and warm compared to the ocean.
Heronpaw resurfaced a second time, sputtering pathetically for air through her nose as she gripped Longkit by his scruff. Only when Heronpaw dug her claws into the safety of driftwood did the kit react, mewling pathetically. Heronpaw collapsed beside him on their makeshift raft, fur flattened with salt water.
“It’s okay,” She repeated as a desperate litany, to either herself or the kit. “It’s okay, we’re okay, we’re okay.”
Heronpaw pulled Longkit ever closer to her, shutting her eyes to drown out the sound of Starclan’s claws tracing along the underside of the driftwood.
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