Telling us about Ivyclan before we went to sleep was the worst possible decision Cowbirdsoar could have made. Nighthawkflicker tiredly turns over. No matter the position she took, Ivyclan would not leave her brain.
What is life like for them now? How many did they lose? Did they even lose anyone? The questions swarm her like wasps. She tries to swat them away, but she only hits herself. She bats her tail against the stone.
Lying here is getting me nowhere. Might as well take a walk or something. She rose to her paws. In the old days, she would wander to the training stones and practice whatever Eggstar had last taught her. Now... Now she just settles for stepping outside of the cave.
The late-night air hits her like a badger. She shivers and tries to fluff up her pelt. The cave was cold, but this was unnatural.
Madtomtuft’s voice cut through the air. “If you think this is bad, you should try going for a swim.”
Nighthawkflicker glances around for her clanmate. I didn’t see anyone when I came out. And she’s not behind me. She double-checks just in case.
Madtomtuft let out a purr of amusement, hopping down next to her.
“For a cat named Nighthawk, you are not very good at looking at the skies.” She teases, her whiskers twitching with amusement.
The gray tabby rolls her eyes. “And for a cat named Madtom...” She screws up her face, “you swim bad.”
The brown molly lifts an eyebrow. “Did you forget what a madtom was?”
Nighthawkflicker’s ears burn. Hoping to avoid further embarrassment, she shifts the conversation. “So, what are you doing out this late?”
Madtomtuft deflates. “I... just needed to think,” She admits.
“Well,” The tabby puts her paw on her friend's, “you aren’t alone there.” She offers a smile.
Her denmate buries into her side. “I just... I don’t know how to feel,” she whispers. “I feel jealous and excited and... so confused.”
Nighthawkflicker nods along. “I get it... as much as it sickens me, I’m jealous too.” She looks away. “Their leader survived, other cats survived... and I just think...”
“Why not our clanmates?” Madtomtuft finishes for her.
The tabby sighs. “Yeah.” She sits down, wrapping her tail around herself. “But I’m also... happy.”
“Happy?”
“Sounds weird, I know.” Nighthawkflicker grins awkwardly. “But another clan, that means we aren’t alone. It means that... we have a real chance.”
Madtomtuft did not say anything after that. But the words seem to have done their job, as relief overtook her expression. She sits next to Nighthawkflicker and buries her head in.
The mollies spent the next few nights sharing their fears and making plans to try to meet the other Ivyclan cats. There were still some mixed emotions, but they at least had another cat to share them with.
My name is Cowbirdsoar. I am Grouseclan's healer. Recently, our clan has been effected by a strange sickness.
It was New Leaf when it came. Every cat could feel it, a deep, dark hum beneath our skins.
We just didn't know what it meant back then.
Everything seemed fine for the first days, then the sickness started to show itself. Indigospike came into my den. They said that their stomach was hurting, that they were so hungry. I tried to help them, I gave them prey and travelers herbs to suppress their appetite. But they seemed to stay hungry.
The rest followed. They weren't hungry, each cat seemed to have their own issue. But they all deteriorated the same. They became angry, they lashed out.
They weren't our clanmates anymore.
There were only two other cats who seemed unaffected, Nighthawkpaw and Madtompaw. I took both of them and in the early dawn, we ran.
Nighthawkpaw found us a hidden crevase protected from the sea, predators, and...
I'm looking to represent more underrepresented conditions within my comic and I would love some input on what you guys would like included. The characters in Rooted are fleshed out already, so they will not fall under the negative trope of only existing as the condition and not an individual.
Currently, I am doing research on having a character with pica; if you have a condition you'd want 'seen' please comment or dm, perhaps with a link to resources(s) if willing!
Edit: Due to the nature of clangen, I can't promise any characters will live long or even past kithood. Even so, I would like have them exist as that's reality, even if their deaths are already set in the story,
I love the idea of this, as someone who tries to work in disabilities as well (they're coming but later in the story. Or the reveals are the later bits as some are psychological)
Some I think could be interesting are Albinism
Cat guide
Clinical human guide
Lived experience
Albinism rights/awareness site
Deafness/ hearing loss
Pet specific
cat specific/ communication concerns
Cultural
Social/ lived experience
National deaf center
Better Bones disability guide
And this one is more an illness that can be chronic, Feline herpes (my cat has it, she got it from her mom)
Telling us about Ivyclan before we went to sleep was the worst possible decision Cowbirdsoar could have made. Nighthawkflicker tiredly turns over. No matter the position she took, Ivyclan would not leave her brain.
What is life like for them now? How many did they lose? Did they even lose anyone? The questions swarm her like wasps. She tries to swat them away, but she only hits herself. She bats her tail against the stone.
Lying here is getting me nowhere. Might as well take a walk or something. She rose to her paws. In the old days, she would wander to the training stones and practice whatever Eggstar had last taught her. Now... Now she just settles for stepping outside of the cave.
The late-night air hits her like a badger. She shivers and tries to fluff up her pelt. The cave was cold, but this was unnatural.
Madtomtuft’s voice cut through the air. “If you think this is bad, you should try going for a swim.”
Nighthawkflicker glances around for her clanmate. I didn’t see anyone when I came out. And she’s not behind me. She double-checks just in case.
Madtomtuft let out a purr of amusement, hopping down next to her.
“For a cat named Nighthawk, you are not very good at looking at the skies.” She teases, her whiskers twitching with amusement.
The gray tabby rolls her eyes. “And for a cat named Madtom...” She screws up her face, “you swim bad.”
The brown molly lifts an eyebrow. “Did you forget what a madtom was?”
Nighthawkflicker’s ears burn. Hoping to avoid further embarrassment, she shifts the conversation. “So, what are you doing out this late?”
Madtomtuft deflates. “I... just needed to think,” She admits.
“Well,” The tabby puts her paw on her friend's, “you aren’t alone there.” She offers a smile.
Her denmate buries into her side. “I just... I don’t know how to feel,” she whispers. “I feel jealous and excited and... so confused.”
Nighthawkflicker nods along. “I get it... as much as it sickens me, I’m jealous too.” She looks away. “Their leader survived, other cats survived... and I just think...”
“Why not our clanmates?” Madtomtuft finishes for her.
The tabby sighs. “Yeah.” She sits down, wrapping her tail around herself. “But I’m also... happy.”
“Happy?”
“Sounds weird, I know.” Nighthawkflicker grins awkwardly. “But another clan, that means we aren’t alone. It means that... we have a real chance.”
Madtomtuft did not say anything after that. But the words seem to have done their job, as relief overtook her expression. She sits next to Nighthawkflicker and buries her head in.
The mollies spent the next few nights sharing their fears and making plans to try to meet the other Ivyclan cats. There were still some mixed emotions, but they at least had another cat to share them with.
Cowbirdsoar lays in the healer's den, basking in the cool morning air. His- the kits lay against his side. He curls his tail over them.
Last moon, he tried to get them to sleep on their own. He and Madtomtuft cleaned and added moss to the apprentice’s den. But after spending the night in it, they refused to return. No bribery or insistence would change their minds.
Cowbirdsoar knew he could force the issue, but that would do them no good. So, instead he chose to accommodate them. He brought the moss from the apprentice den and added it to his own nest.
That made the comfortable nest the three of them lay in now. He yawns into the empty air and stretches. Rhubarbkit squeaks against him, while Plumekit just curls further in on herself.
He looks down at them, his golden eyes shining. They are mine... Stars it is wrong, but they are my family. He looks at the cave roof and imagines Starclan looking down at him. He imagines the face of his mentor, the one he had made his oath to. He can see her scowling at him. I promise I am still loyal, He says to the visage. I will never take a mate, never have kits. But let me have this selfishness.
The visage stares through him, it says nothing, but a lightness creeps into his heart. He rests his head against his kits.
“Are you up yet?” Madtomtuft calls from the entrance. He narrows his eyes at his niece, making a shushing motion with his tail. She covers her mouth and backs away.
Reluctantly, Cowbirdsoar uncurls himself from his daughters. He licks both of their heads and walks out to meet Madtomtuft.
“Did you need something?” he says quietly.
“I just wanted to offer to go herb hunting with you.” She smiles so earnestly; the rest of darkness drains to his paws.
He nudges his head against hers. “I’ll be ready soon.” He walks back into the cave.
Rhubarbkit is already bothering Brambleclash, while her quieter sister is still asleep, having taken over the whole nest. Brambleclash bats at Rhubarbkit and smiles at him. She mouths ‘I have this’ at him. He mouths his own thanks and slinks back out.
Madtomtuft and Cowbirdsoar climb the rocks and onto the field. They bring themselves to a feverfew patch; the majority of it is already dead. Do we even have enough? If what we have goes bad... she nudged him out of his thoughts.
She motions towards the patch. “How do I harvest the feverfew?”
He swallowed down his fears. “You want to nip them towards the base of the stalk- be careful, the smell can throw off some cats.” He knew she knew. But the words comforted him.
She followed his orders and picked the plants. He joins in, avoiding the dead roots.
His ears twitch, catching a sound on the wind. Pawsteps. He unsheathes his claws. The pawsteps get closer. Madtomtuft tenses next to him, her own claws at the ready.
The pawsteps grow louder until a cat comes into view. A normal, non-infected cat and one Cowbirdsoar recognizes.
He sprints to them without thinking. “Walnutpaw” He calls out. Walnutscreech’s eyes widen in surprise. They run up to greet him.
The last time he saw Walnutpaw, their ears just barely reached his chin. Now, Walnutpaw was just a paw shorter than him. Their short, sandy fur, was tight against their skin, letting Cowbirdsoar see the bones underneath.Their purple eyes, once full of warmth and ambition, had dulled and sunk into his head.
“It’s Walnutscreech now,” They correct.
That made sense. It had been 9 moons. “Oh.” He clears his throat. “Congratulations.” He peaks over their shoulders. It was dangerous for them to be alone, where was Daisypop? Or the other Ivyclan cats?
“It’s just me.” They follow his gaze.
The words hit Cowbirdsoar like a raging badger. Just me.
“Ivyclan is...?”
Walnutscreech shook their head. “No, we just moved further up the hill.”
“We moved to the shore ourselves.” He waves his tail towards where he came from.
“That’s nice...” They reply, staring at the feverfew patch.
Of course, they came for that. And we had already picked so much...
“I think there’s still some.” He offers them. “Though, it may be easier for one clan to share them, rather than two.” Ivyclan has always been proud, but maybe, maybe those left could join Grouseclan.
Walnutscreech paws at the dirt. “I can’t imagine our leader would be keen on that.” They meow, the weight of the words pressing them against the dirt.
“What about just you?”
They recoil. “I can’t. Ivyclan still needs me.” Cowbirdsoar deflates.
“Right, of course.” He paws the dirt. “I’ll get you that feverfew.” He walks back to Madtomtuft, taking some of the plants. He sets it on their paws and steps back. They take it and turn around.
“Thank you.” They mumble around the plants. Cowbirdsoar nods to them. He wants to pull them back, but he knows he cannot. A healer's duty is to their clan... they would only hate him if he tried to remove them from their duty.
Silently, Cowbirdsoar slinks home. Madtomtuft follows him, feverfew in her jaws.
They tell the clan about Walnutscreech and Ivyclan. Brambleclash seems uneasy, Nighthawkflicker is quiet, and the kits... well they spend the meeting playing.
Cowbirdsoar curls in on himself. He paws his leg. “We can decide whether to visit them or not later. But for now, we should all just sleep on it.”
“That’s as good an idea as any.” Brambleclash nuzzles against him. “Mind checking on my sprain before you turn in?”
“Of course.” He helps her to the healer’s den. The kits follow them, worn out from their play.
