Swampclan

Welcome to the home of Swampclan! Clangen blog Hyjinx, she/her

[swampclanclangen]

Welcome to Swampclan

Hey y'all, welcome to Swampclan! Careful of the gators, though. They're not as welcoming.

After having this game for a year, I finally decided I wanted to document and share a clan of my own. I've been inspired by multiple blogs and even some tiktok accounts, most noticeably @/clangenrising. This blog is going to be a kind of chapter-like picture book with illustrations breaking up events. I don't have a story planned for this clan, so sorry if that's what you were looking for. It's really more of a go with the flow, slice-of-life adventure about the happenings in Swampclan

I will make any warnings for heavy content ahead of time and put a little description of what the content entails. I will also be taking a pg-13 approach in regard to sexual content, this will also have a precursor warning

Regarding cat references, when there's a new cat introduced, I'll make a separate post with the new designs. If y'all want, you can draw any of the cats in the story, just please give credit if you decide to post them!

I want to attempt to keep things organized so regular posts will only have the #swampclan tag, asks will have #swampclanask, and out of character/for fun posts will have #swampclanhijinks. I'll add more if needed as time goes on

Lastly, I'll try to update at a consistent basis, but I'm in college, so idk how well I'll keep up with it

PS, I have no clue if this is going to get any traction, I'd be surprised and happy if it does, but if it doesn't, oh well. I'm mostly doing this to have fun and practice my storytelling and art/character design skills

[swampclanclangen]

I just realized I never posted the refs for the Patchouliclan patrol

[swampclanclangen]

Month 11 - Leaf-Bare

Warning - Non-Graphic Character Death

Fennelpelt looks around at the group huddled near Strikestar’s den. Strikestar lay closest to the entrance, Yarrowtuft to her left and Shinepelt on the right. Hyeridrizzle sat next to Yarrowtuft, then Fennelpelt himself, and finally Paletail to close the circle. With all the kits and Dawnfrost sleeping, they had decided it would be a good idea to talk about battle strategies. Just the thought of already having to fight the other clans made Fennelpelt’s fur itch. He hadn’t had a confrontation yet, thank the stars, but he knew it would happen sooner than later.

“They’ve tried pushing the border further in again.” Yarrowtuft meows, drawing the attention to her. Her brow was furrowed, a deep set frown on her face. Fennelpelt takes note of the shallow scratch along her cheek.

“Paletail and I put the marker back where it’s supposed to be.” She continues. “They haven’t been as aggressive as I initially thought they’d be.”

“Maybe they’re trying to feel us out first. To see how much they can push before we start pushing back.” Hyeridrizzle suggests. Like Fennelpelt, she hadn’t yet had a physical confrontation.

“I say we push the border into their territory next time. Show them that they can’t expect us to just roll over and show our bellies.” Paletail says. As far as Fennelpelt knew, Paletail had the most direct contact to the other clan in terms of fights, if you include the conversation that started everything in the first place.

“I’m good with that.” Fennelpelt meows, nodding at the younger warrior, who flashes him a smile.

“No.” Strikestar shakes her head. She shifts onto her side, face scrunching in discomfort.

“We don’t have to have this meeting right now, you know. You’ve just given birth, no one would blame you if you need more rest.” Shinepelt says, giving Strikestar a concerned look. His tail flicks out and rests on Strikestar’s flank.

“I’m ok. Besides, we need to have this talk before things get more serious.” Strikestar tucks a paw under herself and looks back to the group.

“I don’t want us provoking them by pushing the borders. We only have four able-bodied warriors right now. We can’t take any risks.”

“Actually, Strikestar…” Yarrowtuft trails off, a guilty look crossing her face. “Shinepelt thinks it would be best if I moved to the nursery and put a hold on my warrior duties.”

“With her kits coming in the next moon, I don’t want her getting hurt and something happening to the kits.” Shinepelt explains before Strikestar can ask.

“That’s ok. I would rather have you on temporary leave than permanent.” Strikestar says, giving Yarrowtuft a reassuring look.

“Do you want any help looking for moss? I know where the softest patch is.” Paletail offers, smiling.

“Thank you, Paletail. I would appreciate that.” Yarrowtuft dips her head.

“So that leaves us with three warriors.” Hyeridrizzle meows, glancing from Paletail to Fennelpelt, then back to Strikestar.

“I could go out-”

“No. You will stay in your nest and rest. You just gave birth, you don’t need to be fighting.” Shinepelt cuts off their leader, giving her a stern look.

Paletail snorts, covering up the sound with a cough when eyes turn to him. “Sorry, got some dust in my throat.”

“We can go on solo patrols until you guys are up and running again.” Fennelpelt says. Strikestar nodded, though she was frowning.

“Dawnfrost might be better by then too.” Paletail adds, his voice unusually quiet. Silence stretched out, all the cats looking away to avoid the gray tom’s hopeful gaze. “Maybe…maybe not…”

Fennelpelt flicks his tail against Paletail’s flank, wanting to provide any comfort he could. Dawnfrost wouldn’t be getting better, it was something almost all of them had accepted. Fennelpelt couldn’t blame Paletail for holding out hope, though. The two were brothers in everything but blood, inseparable as kits and apprentices.

“Why don’t we go get some moss before you head out on patrol.” Yarrowtuft’s voice breaks the silence as she stands. She walks up to Paletail and nudges his shoulder, making the warrior stand. Quietly, he follows after her, tail almost dragging along the ground.

“Poor kid.” Hyeridrizzle murmurs. Agreements are echoed through the remaining warriors.

Pushing himself to his paws, Fennelpelt glances across the clearing to the medicine den. Maybe he could try looking for lungwort.

“I wouldn’t try it. I don’t want you getting frostbite.” Shinepelt appears next to him, making the warrior jump. The healer gives him a sheepish smile.

“There’s gotta be something I can do.” Fennelpelt says, frowning.

“Dawnfrost is in Starclan’s paws now. It’s up to them if they want to show mercy.” Shinepelt shakes his head. “I’m not sure they will.” With that, the healer walks away.

The urge to move and do something itches at Fennelpelt’s paws. A look at the fresh-kill pile makes his decision for him and he turns, trotting to the camp entrance and out into the swamp.

******

Aching pain thrums dully through Dawnfrost’s muscles, centering from his chest and flowing out. He draws in a shaky breath, but it gets caught in his throat, leaving him in a coughing fit that burns his throat. The taste of iron attacks the back of his tongue. He grimaces at the taste.

“Here’s some water.” Paletail’s voice makes him look up. The gray tom’s blurry face becomes clear as he settles down next to Dawnfrost, pushing a leaf closer to him. “Drink.”

Dawnfrost slowly shifts his gaze down to the leaf, noticing the water pooled in it. He leans forward and laps at the water, sighing at the cool feeling on his throat. Once done, he shifts to push his back against Paletail’s flank. Dawnfrost rests his head on his paws, smiling when a warm tail covers him.

“What’s…what’s been going on…in camp?” Dawnfrost asks, his voice rough and quiet. “The kits?”

“The kits are all doing good. Blisskit and Greenkit are getting bigger everyday, they’ve started trying to follow the others out of the nursery. Coldkit keeps begging to let them come out and play, but Bugkit keeps insisting it’s too dangerous. Milkkit, of course, is keeping the peace.” Paletail says. He runs his tail up and down Dawnfrost’s side.

Dawnfrost chuckles. “She would be…a great mediator.”

“Yea, she would. Let’s see, what else? I helped Yarrowtuft move into the nursery a couple weeks ago. It’s starting to get a little crowded, but I’ll be moving back to the warrior’s den in the coming moon.”

“Will you finally…have the courage to…to share a nest with Fennelpelt?” Dawnfrost teases. His shoulders shake in a silent laugh as a tail smacks his shoulder.

“There’s no way he’d say yes, not yet. Maybe you could be my wingcat.” Paletail nudges Dawnfrost, smiling.

Dawnfrost nods slowly, matching Paletail’s smile. Suddenly, a big yawn forces its way out of his mouth. His body trembles from the force of it, leaving him feeling exhausted. A heavy weight rests on his shoulder before a rough tongue starts up around his ears.

“Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.” Paletail meows, voice soft.

Dawnfrost hums and closes his eyes, warmth replacing the pain in his chest.

“I love you.”

“Yea…I love you too.” Paletail’s voice fades out as he falls asleep, welcoming the darkness.

******

Paletail lays by Dawnfrost’s side, grooming the smaller tom long after the sun had already crossed the sky, leaving shadows to stretch into the den. He knew he should probably get up, go find Shinepelt, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like he had to.

“Paletail?” Shinepelt steps into the den, a knowing look already on his face. The healer walks over to the warrior and leans down, pressing his muzzle to the top of his head.

Paletail swallows back a whimper, blinking away the wetness gathering in his eyes. He had to be strong right now.

“When did it happen?” Shinepelt asks.

“A few hours ago.” Paletail replies, voice thick. He had known exactly when Dawnfrost had passed, listening to the warrior’s breathing before it finally stopped.

Shinepelt nods. They sit in silence, Shinepelt nuzzled into the top of Paletail’s head. “We should move him into the clearing. We can sit vigil for him and bury him in the morning.”

Paletail doesn’t answer him, letting the silence stretch out once again. He stares down at Dawnfrost, fighting back the sob welling up in his throat. Clearing his throat, he pulls away from Shinepelt and pushes himself to his feet. Leaning down he grabs the scruff of Dawnfrost’s neck and lifts him up. He was so light. Shinepelt moves to the tom’s other side and lifts Dawnfrost’s back legs. Together, the two make their way out of the medicine den and to the center of the clearing. Gently, they set him down, and Paletail lays next to him.

Pawsteps move around him, soft murmuring filling the air. A tail brushes against his side before a body settles down next to him, shoulder leaning against his. Paletail lets his head fall to the side, finding a spot on the warm cat. A rough tongue starts grooming around his ears, pressing the fur on his head down. Paletail sighs and closes his eyes, giving himself a moment for the burning in them to fade. Tears squeeze out and roll down his cheeks, leaving tracts in the fur. Finally, the sob in his throat escapes and he turns his head, burying his face in long fur. The grooming stops, being replaced by a chin.

“It’s ok. Let it all out, Pale. No one’s going to judge you.” Strikestar shushes him. She watches her clanmates pad around the clearing, whispering to each other and sending Paletail pitying looks. A couple walk over and give the tom comforting nuzzles and words, but he never looks up from Strikestar’s chest. It isn’t until three small bodies bound over that he finally responds.

Paletail gives his kits a shaky smile and invites them to lay down next to him. Once settled, he drapes his tail over them like he always did.

“What happened to uncle Dawnfrost?” Coldkit asks, not taking his eyes away from the fallen warrior. He was curled up the closest to Paletail’s head, Milkkit in the middle and Bugkit taking up the back.

“Remember how I told you he was really sick?” Coldkit nods. “Well, the sickness got too much for his body and he travelled to Starclan.”

“Is he going to come back?” Bugkit asks. Her head was resting on Milkkit’s flank, a sleepy look on her face.

“No, baby, he’s not coming back.” Paletail replies, his voice growing thick. He looks back to Dawnfrost, tears welling up in his eyes once more.

“I wanted to be his apprentice.” Coldkit meows, ears drooping. He reaches out his head and lays it on Paletail’s paw.

“Hey, I said I wanted to be his apprentice.” Milkkit protests, pushing Coldkit’s flank. “I got first dibs.”

“I’m the oldest, so I get to choose first.” Coldkit retorts.

“Yea, but I’m the biggest, so I think I should choose first.” Bugkit says.

“But you're the youngest.” Coldkit argues.

“I’m not the youngest! Milkkit is the youngest. Papa said so.” Bugkit growls.

“You act like the youngest!”

“Hey!” Paletail’s voice makes the kits fall silent. “Arguing during a vigil is rude and disrespectful. Cut it out.”

“Sorry.” Bugkit meows, Coldkit echoing.

Paletail sighs and turns back to Dawnfrost. He knew if the warrior was alive, he’d be beaming to know the kits were arguing about wanting to be his apprentice. He smiles as he thinks back on when they were first apprentices.

“Have I ever told you guys about the first time Dawn and I went out alone together as apprentices?” Paletail asks.

The kits shake their heads, their eyes wide in anticipation.

“Did you get the two of you in trouble?” Strikestar asks, chuckling at the offended look Paletail gives her.

“I’ll have you know that Dawnfrost was just as bad as me sometimes.” He says, turning his nose up, which earns him giggles from the kits.

“So, it was our first time out alone and we were tasked with going down to the birch grove and catching three pieces of prey each. I was completely content with staying on the ground and getting some mice, maybe a rabbit, but Dawnfrost insisted we climb some trees and go after the squirrels in their own turf.” Paletail says, a grin growing on his face.

“Did you catch any?” Coldkit asks, perked up.

“Not even close. We certainly found and chased some, but they all beat us. We thought we’d get one after we found an old, gray squirrel. However, one thing led to another, Dawnfrost stopped, I ran into him, and we both fell out of the tree and into a stream.”

Strikestar laughs, shoulders shaking. “What did Swanstar say when you got back to camp empty-pawed?”

“Excuse you, we did not come back empty-pawed. After climbing out of the stream and drying off, we managed to catch some mice and a sparrow. It was sundown when we got back, but we still came back with prey.” Paletail replies.

“I’m glad I didn’t have to deal with child versions of you and Dawnfrost.” Strikestar says, shaking her head fondly.

“Fennelpelt did. He joined us sometimes.” Paletail smiles. A small yawn leaves him.

“Take a nap, I’ll wake you back up before we bury him.” Strikstar says.

“Ok, thank you.” Paletail lays his head on his paws, closing his eyes.

Strikestar hums and starts grooming him again, listening as his breathing slows.

******

It took about a week after Dawnfrost was buried for Shinepelt to find the courage to clean up and dispose of the moss in the warrior’s nest. He didn’t want the others to do it and risk them possibly getting sick. After making the new nest, Shinepelt noticed he was low on moss. He now found himself outside of camp, walking to one of the moss sites close to camp. He’d decided to go alone, wanting to listen to the sounds of nature. It was cold out, the mud frozen beneath his feet, but the sight of new growth springing up brought a warmth to his chest. It was a difficult leaf-bare with almost every warrior getting sick in some way. He just hoped this coming newleaf would bring good luck.

Turning around a tree, he spots the first moss blanket. Trotting over, he sits down and gets to work. He gets to work cutting out clumps of moss and setting them to the side. It was a calming, repetitive process. Cut, ball up, drop, cut, ball up, drop, cut ball up, drop. He continues this for the afternoon until he’s got a sizable pile next to him. Leaning down, he grabs a mouthful and puts it in one of his leaf bags, repeating until it is full and moving to the next one. Once both were full, he grabs it and slings it over his back. Picking up the remaining moss, Shinepelt turns and makes his way back to camp.

Following the same path, he gets to camp before the sun starts to set. Shinepelt nods to Hyeridrizzle as she passes him, getting a nod in return. He trots across the clearing and into his den. Shinepelt deposits the leaf bags and gets to work sorting them into his stores. After the last few stressful months, it was nice having a day to just be with himself.

[swampclanclangen]

Month 10 - Leaf-Bare

“Thanks for coming with me.” Shinepelt meows, glancing over at Paletail. Fennelpelt had gone with him to Streamclan and Chestnutclan yesterday to ask for herbs, without any luck. Seems like the frosts had killed the herbs before the other healers could grab them too.

“Of course. I’d do anything to help Dawnfrost. He’s my best friend.” Paletail replies. The large tom looks out to the moorland stretching across them. “Why didn’t you ask Yarrowtuft, though?”

“I did, but she said she noticed the prey pile was low and wanted to hunt. I think she was lying to me, but I wasn’t going to push her.”

“That’s odd. Whenever we go on patrol near the border, she always looks at the hills like she wants nothing more than to go back.” Paletail looks down at the invisible border as they cross over it. He immediately goes on high alert, ears pointed forward.

“She has mentioned that Patchouliclan cats aren’t the most welcoming. Maybe she’s afraid they’ll be nasty to her since she left.” Shinepelt replies. He takes the lead, knowing the way to the camp from past visits.

“That’s not fair. She didn’t choose to leave.”

“Don’t think it matters.”

The two fall into a companionable silence, the only sound birdsong and their pawsteps in the grass. A sudden chill goes down Shinepelt’s spine and his step falters. Looking around, he doesn’t spot any movement, but the feeling of being watched doesn’t leave him. A large boulder looms up ahead, blocking the path. Not wanting to jump on top and possibly reveal himself to any predators, Shinepelt steps around it.

A hiss is all that warns him before something slams into Shinepelt, knocking him off his feet. A heavy weight lands on him, pinning him to the ground. There’s another hiss, this time angry, and a scuffle before the weight is lifted off Shinepelt and thrown to the side. He scrambles to his feet, being met with the backside of a puffed up Paletail and three cats.

One of the cats was climbing to his feet, presumably the one that had attacked Shinepelt. His white pelt stood out among the grass. The other two, another tom and a younger she-cat, presumably an apprentice, both had red fur. All three were glaring at Shinepelt and Paletail.

“How dare you attack a medicine cat! They are free to travel through territories without interference.” Paletail snarls, his voice deep and missing its usual light tone.

“I couldn’t care less if he was one of the original leaders. No one is allowed to trespass on Patchouliclan territory.” The white tom, who Shinepelt now realizes is Snowfoot, retorts. The red apprentice, Firepaw, steps up beside her mentor, hackles raised.

“Yea! Especially not you dirty Swampclan cats!” She hisses. A stern look from her mentor makes her back up, but her glare didn’t leave.

Shinepelt moves out from behind Paletail, pulling himself to his full height, though he only reached to the top of Snowfoot’s shoulder.

“We’re on official healer business. I must speak with Mintsong.” He meows, his voice clearer than he thought it would be.

“Tough luck. You two are going to leave now. Or do I need to make you?” Snowfoot moves forward, teeth baring, to Shinepelt.

Paletail steps in front of him, hackles spiking down his back. “Touch him and I’ll strew the ground with you. Back up.”

Shinepelt’s eyes widened in surprise. It was easy to forget Paletail was a warrior, with his laidback nature and gentleness. Now, though, Shinepelt could see what six moons of warrior training could produce. Paletail suddenly snaps his teeth, making the warriors and even Shinepelt jump.

“I said back up.”

Snowfoot sneers, but he does take a couple steps back.

“Tell your leader we’re coming for Swampclan.” He turns away, tail flicking to his clanmates. Before he starts walking, Snowfoot looks over his shoulder. “If you show up at the camp, we’ll kill you.”

The patrol stalks away, though the red tom, who had been silent the whole time, stops. He turns copper eyes to Shinepelt and Paletail and smiles. Not a nice smile though. One that sent a chill through Shinepelt, like he was prey.

“Give Yarrowtuft my regards. I suspect I won’t be seeing her for a while.” He turns away with a chuckle, bounding after the patrol and disappearing over the ridge.

Shinepelt stares after him, a bad feeling tugging at his chest. He did not like that cat. Not at all.

“Creep.” Paletail growls, like he was reading Shinepelt’s thoughts. The gray warrior turns to the healer, checking him over. “Are you alright?”

“I, uh… I’m fine. Just a little shaken up.” Shinepelt replies.

“They should be ashamed of themselves. No one with good morals would even think of harming a medicine cat.” Paletail nudges Shinepelt in the direction of the border. “Come on, we’re leaving. I don’t want to still be here if they come back.”

Shinepelt forces his legs into movement, but can’t help but glance over his shoulder. Stars this would be tough to explain to Strikestar.

******

Paletail noses the lichen covering the entrance to Strikestar’s den out of the way, scanning the space for the ginger she-cat. He spots her leaning close to Yarrowtuft, deep in conversation.

“Strikestar?”

Strikestar looks up, finding Paletail’s eyes in the darkness. She frowns, brow furrowing slightly.

“Yes, Paletail?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but Shinepelt and I just got back from Patchouliclan and have something important to share.”

“Come in.”

Paletail leads Shinepelt in, settling down closer to the entrance. He can’t help the way his eyes dart down to Strikestar’s stomach, swollen with kits. Shinepelt said they would come any day now, and his kits had been talking to him non-stop, excited for new playmates. He smiles fondly, before the weight of the situation returns.

“Did Patchouliclan not have any lungwort either?” Strikestar asks, looking down to the healer’s noticeably empty paws.

“We weren’t able to get to their camp to see. A warrior patrol stopped us.” Shinepelt replies.

Anger fills Paletail’s chest again as he recalls the events that happened. A low growl rumbles in his throat, startling his clanmates.

“Paletail?” Yarrowtuft asks.

“They attacked Shinepelt and threatened to kill us.” Paletail says. Strikestar gasps.

“They said they were coming for us.” Shinepelt adds, brow furrowing. “I may be wrong, but that seems like a proclamation for war.”

“No… no you’re right, Shinepelt.” Strikestar nods, frowning. She sighs, claws working at the moss of her nest. “What did we do to antagonize them?”

“Patchouliclan has always been hostile to the other clans. What might have seemed insignificant to us would be a bigger problem to them.” Yarrowtuft replies. Her eyes flick over to Paletail and then back to Strikestar.

“We’ll have to up patrols and battle training. They’re a bigger clan than us, they have more warriors.”

“We won’t let them beat us. Not without a fight.” Paletail meows, sitting up straighter. He’d die before he let anything happen to his clan, his kits.

“Maybe we’ll be able to settle this peacefully.” Yarrowtuft says, giving Strikestar a hopeful look.

“I don’t think so. They were pretty hostile.” Shinepelt replies. He frowns, thinking for a moment before turning to Yarrowtuft. “That reminds me, one of the cats asked us to send you his regards. He said something about not seeing you for a while.”

Yarrowtuft’s eyes widened, a spooked look crossing her face. “What was this cat’s name?” She asks, voice wavering.

“I’m not sure. He didn’t tell us.” Shinepelt replies.

Paletail’s eyes narrow, the look on Yarrowtuft’s face making him uneasy. “He was red. A masked tabby like Hyeridrizzle.”

“And his eyes were copper. He gave me a bad vibe too. I didn’t like him.” Shinepelt adds.

“Redbriar.” Yarrowtuft says quietly, sounding like she was out of breath. Her ears flatten to her head.

Strikestar hunches down, bringing herself closer to Yarrowtuft’s height. “What’s wrong? Who is he?”

“H-He was my m… we were together in Patchouliclan. It wasn’t good though, he was bad.” Yarrowtuft looks up, making eye contact with Strikestar. “Redbriar was furious when I left. Told me I’d never escape him.”

“But you did escape him. He’ll never be a part of your life again.” Strikestar meows, pressing her nose to the tip of Yarrowtuft’s ear.

“He will be though. I…” Yarrowtuft trails off, frowning.

Paletail finds himself leaning in, shoulders tensing in anticipation. He makes eye contact with Yarrowtuft before she quickly looks away again.

“I’m going to have his kits.” Yarrowtuft spits out in one breath, clamping her jaws shut afterwards.

Silence meets her admittance, none of the cats sure whether to congratulate or console her. It stretches for a few heartbeats before Paletail finally speaks up.

“My kits are going to jump out of their fur in excitement when they hear they’ll have even more playmates.”

Just like that, the tense atmosphere dissipates, replaced with fond laughter. Yarrowtuft gives Paletail a grateful look.

He returns it, throwing in a wink that makes her snort. “Speaking of kits, I should probably go see how they’re doing. Don’t want them to try sneaking out of camp again.”

“Were you this much of a troublemaker when you were a kit?” Strikestar asks.

“I’d say no, but you’ll have to ask my mom for the right answer.” Paletail replies. Pushing himself to his feet, he ducks under the lichen, blinking a couple times to get his eyes used to the sunlight.

The clearing was empty, like it tended to be around sunhigh. With only seven warriors, two of which were out of condition, their resources were stretched thin. Paletail usually went on patrol at least three times a day, both by himself and with a group. Speaking of, he wanted to rest up before his dusk patrol with Hyeridrizzle later. Turning to the left, Paletail pads over to the nursery. Shouldering through the brambles protecting the entrance, he spies the curled up lumps of his kits in the nest. He smiles, setting his feet down softer as he quietly makes his way over to them. He lays down in the space behind them, curling his paws under his chest. His kits snuggle closer, Milkkit letting out a content sigh. Paletail drapes his tail over them and rests his head on the lip of the nesting hollow, letting sleep claim him.

******

“Why can’t we go back to the nursery yet?” Coldkit asks, for not the first time that day. The tom was perched on Paletail’s shoulder, front paws on his dad’s head, looking at the nursery.

“Because Strikestar is in labor and she needs all the space she can get right now.” Paletail replies. Pulling Milkkit closer, he resumes grooming her, trying to get a piece of fur to stick down. The little ske-kit lets out an annoyed groan, but doesn’t move.

“You said that last time. She has to be finished now.”

“That’s not how labor works, kiddo. It takes a while.” Paletail looks up at the nursery where Yarrowtuft was pacing nervously outside. Hyeridrizzle loafed near her, watching the deputy with a concerned expression. Strikestar had started kitting at sunhigh, and shadows were now starting to stretch across the camp.

“Did mama take this long?” Bugkit appears beside Paletail. She settles down, leaning into his side.

“I’m not sure. I wasn’t there for her kitting.” Paletail replies. He gives Milkkit’s head one more lick before giving up and moving on to her back.

“Why not?” Coldkit scoots forward, looking down at Paletail from above. Paletail meets his gaze. Unlike his sisters, whose eyes turned yellow, his eyes had remained blue. It made Paletail think of Milk’s eyes.

“Your mom wanted to be alone when she did.”

“Why?”

“It’s just what she preferred.”

“Why?”

“Milk liked to be alone.”

“Why?”

“Because she enjoyed the quiet of nature. Listening to the birdsong was one of her favorite things.” Paletail nudges Milkkit, rotating her to reach her other side. He licks a long stripe down her flank, nose wrinkling at the taste of mud.

“How did you get so dirty?” He asks.

“I fell into the stream in Shinepelt’s den then rolled around to try and get dry.” Milkkit replies.

“Why were you in Shinepelt’s den?” Paletail glances over to the den, just barely spotting a curled up brown body. He frowns, chest tightening.

“I wanted to go see uncle Dawnfrost. He seemed thirsty, so I was trying to get him water.” Milkkit replies. She flops onto her side, finally over being cleaned.

Paletail sighs, shaking his head and making Coldkit squeak. The little tom clambers off Paletail and drops down next to Bugkit, butting his head against her shoulder.

“That’s very nice of you, Milk, but you can’t be around Dawnfrost right now. Ok? He’s sick and we don’t want you catching what he has.”

“Ok, papa.”

Paletail looks back over to the nursery. Yarrowtuft had stopped pacing, instead opting to talk to Hyeridrizzle, though the lash of her tail continued behind her. A low wail comes from the nursery, making the fur along Paletail’s back spike up. Thank the stars he never had to give birth. He’d never make it.

“Did mama leave us because we were too loud?”

“What?” Paletail’s head whips around, finding Coldkit with his eyes on the ground. The kit scuffs a paw through the dirt.

“You said mama likes the quiet, and we’re really loud. Is that why she left?”

“Oh, baby, no, come here.” Paletail wraps his paw around Coldkit and Bugkit, pulling them to his chest to join Milkkit. The kits curl up, pressing close to each other.

“Your mama leaving had nothing to do with what any of you did. She left because she didn’t feel ready to be a mom and felt like she wouldn’t be able to take care of you.” Paletail nuzzles into the cuddle pile, breathing in their warm scent.

“She loved you so much, believe me.”

Coldkit doesn’t reply but he presses his cold nose against Paletail’s cheek.

Paletail smiles. The sound of pawsteps makes him look up, spotting Shinepelt padding towards them. He looked exhausted, but a big smile spread across his face. The medicine cat drops onto his haunches, letting out a breath. Paletail’s eyes skipped down to his paws, which were stained red.

“How is she?” Paletail asks. His tail flicked uneasily behind him.

“She’s tired, but she’ll be fine. She had two kits, little toms.” Shinepelt replies, his eyes shining.

“Can we play with them yet?” Coldkit asks, putting his front paws on Paletail’s leg. “I’m getting bored of only playing with Bugkit and Milkkit!”

“Hey!” Bugkit pouts, ears flicking back. Milkkit only rolls her eyes.

“Be nice to your sisters.” Paletail scolds, nosing Coldkit off his leg with a pointed look.

“Sorry.” Coldkit ducks his head, giving his chest a quick lick. “But can we?”

Shinepelt chuckles, shaking his head. “Not yet, little one. They’re still too small and fragile right now.”

“Can we go see them though?” Bugkit asks.

“Of course. Once Yarrowtuft and Hyeridrizzle are finished, you can go visit.”

Bugkit squeaks excitedly and clambers over Paletail’s leg, stepping on Coldkit on accident, earning an annoyed hiss.

“Watch it.” The tom tries to look angry, but a big yawn makes his eyes squeeze shut.

“It’s getting to be your bedtimes.” Paletail says. He stands up, being careful not to knock over any of the kits and stretches.

“It’s getting to be my bedtime.” Shinepelt meows, standing as well. “Goodnight. See you tomorrow.”

“Night.” Paletail watches the tom walk away before turning back to his kits. “Are you ready to meet the new kits?”

“Yea!” Coldkit turns and bounds to the nursery before Paletail can stop him. The warrior watches him go with a sigh.

“He’s just like you when you were a kit.” A pelt brushes up against Paletail.

“You say that like you were never an instigator.” Paletail replies, making eye contact with Fennelpelt. The black tom huffs, rolling his eyes away to look at the remaining kits calmly following their brother. “I’m not the one that put the idea into your head to follow me out of camp when I was made an apprentice.”

“It didn’t seem fair at the time that you could go out when I couldn’t. I was the same size as you.” Paletail teases, bumping Fennelpelt with his shoulder, and starts walking to the nursery.

“That didn’t last long.”

“You’re right, you were smaller than me by the time I became an apprentice.” Paletail smirks at the warrior’s scoff.

“You only look big because of that fluff you call fur.” Fennelpelt knocks into Paletail, making him stagger.

“Oh yea?” Paletail turns with a challenging, but amused, glare. “Then you should be able to get out of this easily enough!” He launches himself at Fennelpelt, knocking him onto his back with a grunt.

Fennelpelt shoves his back paws into Paletail’s belly, but Paletail only drops down on top of him, letting more of his weight hold down the older cat.

“Well, it’s not fair when you deadweight me!” Fennelpelt growls, freeing a paw and shoving Paletail’s head away.

Paletail laughs, turning his head to lick Fennelpelt’s paw. The warrior pulls it away with a groan.

“Childish, you are.” Fennelpelt wipes his paw on Paletail’s side as the tom laughs.

“Papa! Come on!” Coldkit’s voice draws the warriors away from their playfight.

Paletail shoots Fennelpelt one last smile before climbing off him. “Last one to the nursery has dawn patrol!” He takes off, ignoring Fennelpelt’s call of cheating and the paws following him.

******

Strikestar drags her tongue gently across her kit’s backs, cleaning them of any leftover fluid. A rustle followed by a small gasp makes her look up, smiling when she sees the other occupants of the den standing in the entrance.

“Awwww.” Bugkit coos, prancing forward. She places her paws on the side of the moss nest and peers inside at the kits. One was a bright ginger, and the other was brown and white, both covered in stripes.

What’s their names?” Bugkit asks, looking up at Strikestar.

“Can we play with them yet?” Coldkit adds, butting his sister out of the way. “Shinepelt said we couldn’t, but they’re your kits.”

“Shinepelt’s a healer. He knows better.” Bugkit growls. She grabs her brother and pulls him down, returning to her previous position.

“Shinepelt’s right. You won’t be able to play with them for a while.” Strikestar agrees. She reaches out a paw and helps Coldkit up. The gray tom frowns, but doesn’t argue.

“I’m gonna make sure papa’s coming.”

“What did you name them?” Bugkit asks again. She leans forward and sniffs the brown kit, finding comfort in his milky scent.

Gently, Strikestar pushes her back. “Give them some space, little one. The brown tom is Greenkit and the orange one is Blisskit.”

“Greenkit and Blisskit.” Bugkit says their names, feeling them out. “I like them!”

“Thank you. I had some help.” Strikestar smiles fondly, thinking back to the night she and Jayheart had spent brainstorming names. It was hard to leave him that morning. It was getting harder to leave him at all.

“Do they have a papa too?” Milkkit finally asks, stretching up beside her sister.

“Of course.” Strikestar replies.

“Where is he? Was he not ready to be a parent like our mama?”

“He was over the moon when I told him he’d get to be a father, it’s just a little complicated right now.”

“Why?”

“It’s nothing you need to be worried about.”

“Are you two bothering Strikestar?” Paletail’s voice filters into the den as he follows Coldkit in, Fennelpelt right behind him.

“They’re ok. Just asking me a few questions.” Strikestar reassures, smiling down at the she-kits. Bugkit smiles back and Milkkit shyly ducks her head.

“Well, it’s time for bed anyway. Say goodnight, kids.” Paletail leans over Bugkit, smiling down at the kits curled up next to Strikestar. “They’re adorable.”

“Their names are Greenkit and Blisskit.” Bugkit meows, tilting her head back to look at her dad.

“Those are nice. Come on now.” Paletail nudges the kits towards their nest.

Strikestar rests her head on her paws, letting out a sigh.

“You must be tired. I’ll let you get some rest.” Fennelpelt leans down and licks Strikestar’s shoulder.

“Thank you. Goodnight, Fennelpelt.” Strikestar closes her eyes, letting herself relax.

“Goodnight, Strikestar.”

Fennelpelt’s pawsteps fade away, replaced by the soft voice of Paletail. Strikestar, listening to the tom tell the kits a story, lets sleep claim her.

******

Hyeridrizzle watches the rabbit hop along the ground, oblivious to the danger quickly mounting against it. The only thing stopping her was the invisible border separating the edge of the moors with the start of the swamp. After Paletail and Shinepelt had come back with the message from Patchouliclan, Strikestar had made an announcement, warning the others of their hostility. That was a couple weeks ago, and so far they hadn’t had any run-ins with the Patchouliclan cats. So, maybe they hadn’t really meant it. Maybe they just wanted to scare the Swampclan cats.

That’s what Hyeridrizzle was starting to think at least. Besides, she’s pretty sure she could beat any of the other warriors in a fight. So would it really be a big deal if she just ran over and got the rabbit? No one would ever notice, not if she was quick about it.

The feeling of eyes boring into her makes Hyeridrizzle turn her head. Cold, blue eyes stare back at her. Yarrowtuft shakes her head. Hyeridrizzle gives the rabbit one last glance before turning away. Trotting to catch up, she falls into step beside Fennelpelt. She pushes past the undergrowth, leaving the rabbit and moorland behind.

------------

A war already and not even a year into the clan smh

On the bright side, we finally get to welcome Greenkit and Blisskit!

[swampclanclangen]

Month 9 - Leaf-bare

Yarrowtuft takes in a deep breath, enjoying the way the air flew in without the annoyance of a blockage. She’d gotten over her whitecough rather quickly, thank Starclan. It seemed like the clan had gotten through the wave of sickness leaf-bare always brought. At least, that’s what she hoped.

Letting out a soft breath, Yarrowtuft ducks under a towering root. The ground under her feet was frozen, saving her from the usual wet mud found in the swampy parts of the territory. Yarrowtuft makes a left turn, following along the trail that leads to the edge of the territory. Nerves gripped at her chest, making her paws tingle. She didn’t know why she was nervous. It wasn’t like this was anything new to her. Still, she couldn’t help the feeling this was a bad idea. Pushing out of the last of the undergrowth, she comes face to face with the moorland she called home for most of her life. A deep ache joins her nerves, pulling at her heart. She’d never stop missing the open hills.

“Looks like you finally decided to show.” A gruff voice interrupts her longing, making the fur along her shoulders spike. Her gaze shifts to the red tabby tom stalking up to her, his amber eyes, surrounded by a mask of darker fur, flashing. His lips were pulled back in a scowl, clearly irritated. “I thought we agreed to meet at sunhigh.”

Yarrowtuft’s eyes glance towards where the sun was starting to descend, casting shadows over the hills. Swallowing, she gives the tom an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Redbriar, I got caught up talking with Strikestar.” Yarrowtuft apologizes, dipping her head. A sharp scoff makes her shoulders stiffen.

“Of course you did.” The tom, Redbriar, growls. “Do I not matter to you anymore?”

“Of course you do!” Yarrowtuft’s head shoots back up, eyes wide.

“Well you sure don’t act like it. You’ve put off our meeting because you’ve been too busy with your clan.” Redbriar pads forward, glaring down his nose at the smaller cat. His claws tear at the grass.

“I’m not just a regular warrior anymore, I’m a deputy. I have more responsibilities.” Yarrowtuft retorts, tail lashing uneasily behind her. Her eyes darted down to his claws before quickly meeting his eyes again.

“So what you're saying is you're better than me now. Is that it?” The tom thrusts his face into hers, lips curled up in a snarl. His eyes spark in excitement when Yarrowtuft takes a step back.

“No! I…I’m just saying that I won’t always be available anymore.” Yarrowtuft shrinks down, wishing that the world would just open up and swallow her.

“You don’t get to say when you are or are not available. If I call for you, you come.” Redbriar steps closer, lowering his muzzle to her ear. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, yes, I understand.” Yarrowtuft squeezes her eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” The overwhelming presence over her lingers for a few more moments before stepping away. It’s quickly replaced by a paw on her chin, claws sheathed. The paw pulls her head up, gently.

“Hey, look at me.” The voice that was seething with rage had turned into a comfortable warmth.

Slowly, Yarrowtuft opens her eyes, finding soft honey ones staring back at her. The paw on her chin moves to her cheek.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just want to make sure you know I’ll always do what’s best for you, ok? Even if that means I have to be a little rough sometimes.”

Yarrowtuft nods stiffly, not trusting that her words won’t betray her. The tom lowers his forehead to press against hers, a purr rumbling deep in his chest.

“Let me make it up to you. I promise you’ll love it.”

Yarrowtuft nods, forcing herself to purr as he moves to her cheek and nuzzles it. Looks like she’ll be getting home a bit later than she thought.

******

“So you're thinking you're gonna have a small litter?” Dawnfrost asks, padding after Strikestar. The leader had asked his help to gather moss for a nursery nest, and who was he to decline.

“What makes you say that?” Strikestar asks, glancing over her shoulder at her former apprentice.

“I just figured since you chose one of the smaller hollows. And you only asked me to help you get nesting stuff. If you only wanted to do this in one trip, you would have asked Hyeridrizzle or Paletail, since they can carry more than I can.” Dawnfrost replies.

“What if I just wanted to spend time with you?”

“We spend basically all day together, we’re not exactly lacking in quality time.” Dawnfrost smiles. He speeds up to bump his head against her shoulder.

“Fine, you caught me.” Strikestar flicks Dawnfrost’s ear with the tip of her tail. “Shinepelt told me the other day that I’m not expected to have more than two.”

Dawnfrost’s smile widens. “That sounds so exciting. Have you thought of any names yet?”

“A couple, but I want to meet them before I settle on anything.” Strikestar replies.

“Can you tell me a couple you’ve thought of?” Dawnfrost asks.

“Need some inspiration for your own?” Strikestar smiles, tail swaying lazily behind her.

Heat creeps up Dawnfrost’s face and he ducks his head. “Not yet. Some day though. When I meet the right cat.”

“Any cat would be lucky to have you as their mate.”

“Thanks.” Dawnfrost glances up at his former mentor. “So, names?”

Strikestar hums, head tilting as she thinks. “I was wondering about bird names. Like Sparrowkit or Dovekit. Or I could go on how they act.”

“I like Sparrowkit. Mind if I steal it?” Dawnfrost jokes.

“Oh, well now I have to use it.”

Dawnfrost chuckles. The ground under him turns soft, catching his attention. Looking down, he notices a field of moss around them. “Looks like we’re here.”

“We won’t need much. Just a few bundles.” Strikestar pads away, eyes scanning for a good patch.

Dawnfrost watches her for a few moments before looking for his own patch. He spots a thick clump on the edge of a rock and gets to work. Being careful not to shred the moss, he cuts out a pawful and drops it next to him. He repeats the process, ears pricking up when he hears Strikestar start humming behind him. Dawnfrost opens his mouth to talk, but a harsh cough leaves him instead. He turns his head away from the freshly collected moss, letting the phlegm coming up his throat out. Clearing his throat, he looks down at the yellow glob sitting among the green.

“Are you ok?” Strikestar asks, padding up to the warrior. She grimaces at the phlegm. “You’re gonna need to have Shinepelt check you out when we get back.”

“Yea.” Dawnfrost agrees, chest squeezing uncomfortably.

******

“Yellowcough.” Shinepelt says, brow furrowing at the yellow bile Dawnfrost had just coughed up. This was bad. He didn’t have any lungwort and catmint wouldn’t do anything to help.

“That’s bad, isn’t it.” Dawnfrost meows. Shinepelt goes to reply, but is cut off by Dawnfrost. “And don’t lie to me.”

Sighing, Shinepelt shakes his head. “It’s not the best, but it’s not a death wish.” The unspoken yet falls off his reassurance, but they both knew Dawnfrost heard it. “I just have to find some lungwort. After that, you’ll be as healthy as a hare.”

“It’s leaf-bare, how likely do you think it’ll be to find any herbs?”

“Leaf-bare has only just begun, the frost might not have taken any of the plants yet.” Shinepelt turns to his storage and rummages around for a moment. He pulls out a hoof-shaped green leaf and drops it in front of Dawnfrost. “This is coltsfoot. It’ll help with your cough while I go look for lungwort.”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to find any? It’s been rather cold these past couple days.”

“You just lay down, rest, and leave the worrying to me. If you need anything while I’m gone, don’t hesitate to ask one of the other warriors.” Shinepelt pads to the entrance, getting ready to step out, before looking back over his shoulder at the younger cat. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, he turns and trots out of camp.

******

“I can’t believe I’ve been unable to find any lungwort. I’ve been looking for almost a week!” Shinepelt groans.

Fennelpelt shoots the small tom a worried look, frowning. It was true. Every free moment the medicine cat had was spent looking for the herb. It didn’t help that Dawnfrost seemed to be getting worse by the day. He was confined to the medicine den, but it wasn’t like he had much strength to get up and walk around anyhow. A heavy weight filled Fennelpelt’s chest. They were close, all of them from Chestnutclan. Fennelpelt had shared a den with them during his kit and apprentice years in their old clan and now as warriors in their new clan. He couldn’t imagine a life now without Dawnfrost in it. A sigh draws the warrior out of his thoughts.

“What am I going to do Fennelpelt? The herbs aren’t going to grow back for a few more moons and I don’t think Dawnfrost will hold out for that long.”

“We could try going to other clans and see if their healers have any spare lungwort.”

“Your sister’s a healer, right? Frosttail?”

“Yep! She’s a pretty good one too, in my opinion.” Fennelpelt chuckles at Shinepelt’s amused scoff.

“Biased much?”

“Of course I am. You would be too if you had an awesome big sister.”

“Whatever you say. I think I see the moss patch ahead.”

“Whoever gets there last is a piece of crowfood!” Without giving the healer time to respond, Fennelpelt lunges forward, hitting the ground in a sprint. The responding yelp and paws dashing after him make him smile.

--------------------------------------------------------------

y'know I don't understand why the game described Fennelpelt as a black tom and then give me a gray sprite

[swampclanclangen]

Currently fighting the urge to redesign all my refs, but I fear it will start winning soon

Anyways, new chapter coming soon, I just have to finish the drawings. We got a new character being introduced and I really like their design

[swampclanclangen]

Ref for my boy Jayheart

I’m ngl I fell in love with him while writing his scenes with Strikestar and this won’t be the last time we see him. He’s not part of the game, he’s purely my own character, and the whole reason I made him at first was for world building, but now I’m keeping him

[swampclanclangen]

Month 8 - Leaf-Fall

Content Warning: Some references to sexual acts

Starclan was punishing him for something. He didn’t know what, but he had to find out soon before the clan had no more able bodied warriors. Shinepelt looks through his herb storage, trying his best to find some more coltsfoot. Finally spotting a curled leaf, he grabs it and backs out of the herb alcove. Turning, he locks eyes with Yarrowtuft. The deputy had come in after having a coughing fit while assigning patrols. Thankfully, it was just whitecough. Shinepelt drops the leaf in front of Yarrowtuft, pushing it closer with his nose.

“Eat this. It’ll help.” He meows, pulling back.

“Is this your last one?” Yarrowtuft asks, sparing a glance down at the herb. She had a conflicted look on her face, brow furrowed.

“If I said no, would you eat it?” Shinepelt shoots back. He really wasn’t feeling up to an argument right now. Especially not with Yarrowtuft.

“I can’t take your last one. Give it to Fennelpelt or Hyeridrizzle. I’m sure they need it more.” Yarrowtuft gently pushes the leaf back.

“Actually.” Shinepelt pushes it back. “You’re the most at risk cat right now. They’ve already had their dosage today.”

“But-”

“Eat it before I make Paletail sit on you.”

“Fine.” Yarrowtuft leans down and picks up the leaf. She glares up at Shinepelt as she chews, doing an admirable job of keeping a poker face. She swallows with an audible gulp, making Shinepelt roll his eyes.

“Stubborn, the lot of you.” He grumbles. Shinepelt goes to turn, but is interrupted by a sudden need to cough. Covering his mouth with a paw, he coughs, fur puffing up. Once done, he groans.

“Looks like you’ve got the bug.” Yarrowtuft teases, smirking.

“I’m putting mouse bile in your next dose.” Shinepelt says, eyes narrowing. Just great. He was low on the herbs he needs and now he can’t go out to get more.

“I can get more for you.” Strikestar meows, sitting up in her nest.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you getting tired and injuring your leg again.” Shinepelt says, looking down at the aforementioned leg.

“You said it yourself that it healed fully last week. I think I’ve done enough resting.” The leader climbs out of the nest and stretches, making a show of pushing her previously broken leg as far as it could go.

“Fine.” Shinepelt sighs. He gives the leader a serious look. “But you come right back if you feel like it’s too much. I can dig into my catmint stock if need be.”

“Don’t worry so much, Shine. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s my job to worry about you.” Shinepelt replies.

Strikestar nods, turning to go. She pads out of the den, only getting a few steps before hearing Shinepelt call after her.

“And if you're not back before sunset, I’m sending a patrol after you!”

Strikestar huffs. That boy would be going gray before he knew it.

Shinepelt watches Strikestar disappear around the side of the entrance, frowning. He’s sure she’ll be careful, or as careful as she can be. Shinepelt turns back to Yarrowtuft, nodding to one of the open nests.

“Make yourself at home. You might be here for a while.”

******

Strikestar pads quietly through bushes, mouth open, looking for a specific scent. The moon shone brightly above, casting the swamp in a silver glow. It would be full soon. The thought of finally going to a gathering again makes her excited. She’d missed getting to mingle with the other clans. She’d especially missed getting to see a certain brown tom. Speaking of, a fishy smell fills her nose moments before paws cover her eyes.

“Guess who.” A voice sing-songs into her left ear, airy and light. It makes the fur on her back prickle.

Strikestar hums, pretending to think it over. “I don't know…Otterstream?”

The voice gasps, offended, but a body presses closer, tail curling around her own. “I’ll give you one more guess. What darkly handsome, charming tom do you know? Maybe knowing he’s strong and a good hunter would help.”

“Good hunter?” Strikestar huffs a laugh. “Jayheart, you fell into the river on our assessment and almost failed.”

“That wasn’t my fault. The fish was bigger than I thought.”

A muzzle nuzzles into Strikestar’s ear, tickling her. Giggling, she tries to pull away, but the body follows stubbornly, not wanting to lose her warmth. She turns and wraps her paws around the cat’s body, pulling him to the ground as she falls. His face nuzzles into her chest as he settles on top of her, providing a comfortable weight.

“So warm.” Jayheart mumbles, voice muffled.

Strikestar looks down, finding copper eyes staring back at her. Her face heats up under his gaze. He always seemed to be able to do that.

“I’ve been missing you in our nest. It’ll be brutal this leaf-bare.” Jayheart raises his head, looking down at the leader. He leans down, pressing his forehead to her’s.

“Then I guess we’ll just have to keep meeting out here.” Strikestar purrs. She intertwines her tail with his.

Jayheart hums, closing his eyes as he relaxes into her.

A cold wind blows through the trees, rustling the leaves above them. Further into the swamp, an owl screeches. Strikestar suddenly feels Jayheart shiver above her. She frowns. His short fur certainly wasn’t doing anything to protect him from the wind.

“Hey.” She nudges him, making him pull away. “I have an idea to keep us warm.”

“Oh, and will I like this idea?” Jayheart’s lids droop. He leans forward, a lazy smile across his face.

“Well, you’ve never said no to it.” Strikestar replies, moving forward to sit up a little. Jayheart adjusts himself to straddle her with his front legs. Strikestar bumps his chin with her head, rubbing her cheek against his chest.

“Then by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

******

“Never gonna happen, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Strikestar’s face burned in embarrassment, her ears flat against her head. It had been almost three weeks since her last excursion with Jayheart, one week since she’d started feeling unwell. It started with feeling sick in the morning, something that had never happened before, but the second she started craving a food she’d openly despised, she’d decided it was time to visit Shinepelt. Now she found herself laying outside the healer’s cave, his paws on her pinkening belly and laugh barely concealed behind a smug grin.

“I can’t believe the first thing you did after healing from a broken leg was wrestle.” Shinepelt meows, waggling his brow. The glare Strikestar shoots at him finally shreds his already thread thin control. Shinepelt breaks out laughing, pulling his paws away from her stomach to cover his face.

“It’s not funny!” Strikestar snaps, though there wasn’t as much heat as she wanted behind it. She always found it so difficult to be seriously mad at the tom.

“But it is! Oh my stars, it is.” Shinepelt meows, dropping one paw to look at her. His eyes shone brightly, reminding Strikestar of when he first became an apprentice. Shinepelt fully uncovers his face, placing his paws back on her stomach.

“How are you going to tell the others?” He asks.

“I’m…not sure. I figured I’d tell Yarrowtuft first, so she’s prepared. Not sure about the others.” Strikestar looks across the clearing where Paletail was lounging with Fennelpelt, who had finally gotten over his bout of whitecough. Coldkit and Bugkit were curled up on Paletail, and Milkkit on Fennelpelt, asleep. At least she wasn’t the first one to have kits. That was a nice consolation, no matter how small it was.

“What about Jayheart? Maybe it’ll convince him to leave and join us.”

“I don’t think so. He’s one of the most loyal cats I know. It’s one of the reasons I fell for him.” Strikestar smiles. She places her head on her paws. “But who knows. Life is full of surprises.”

Shinepelt hums. He runs his paws along her stomach, pressing down to see how much give certain places had. “I’ll be able to tell how many you’ll have soon.”

“I hope no more than three.”

“Don’t want a bunch of little Jayheart’s running around?”

“I don’t think the world can handle more than one.” Strikestar purrs, the rumble starting up deep in her chest.

Shinepelt smiles. He pulls a paw away to cough, sniffling loudly.

“Are you sure you should be doing your medicine cat things while being sick?” Strikestar asks, turning her head to look at Shinepelt.

“Don’t worry. I washed my paws before I started to examine you.” Shinepelt flicks his paw, shrugging.

“You just had your paws in your face just a few moments ago.” Strikestar deadpans, frowning.

“Minor details.”

“As your leader, am I allowed to force you into nestrest?” Strikestar asks, smirking at the stare she receives.

“Easy there. I can do the same to you.”

“Ugh. Please don’t. I don’t think I can take much more laying around.” Strikestar groans. Her tail lashes at the thought.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you got pregnant.” Shinepelt smiles, barely dodging the tail aimed at his face. “Careful, I might sneeze on you.”

“I thought healer’s were supposed to be courteous of other’s feelings.”

“I must have missed that lesson.”

“I can tell.”

“You’ll be thanking me later.”

******

Strikestar presses back into the warm body curled up behind her, sighing softly. It had been a long day of going around telling her clanmates the news. She’d only known for a week, but it feels like a lifetime already. Thankfully, all her clanmates had reacted supportively, even enthusiastically in Paletail’s case. The young tom had been so excited at the prospect of his kits having others to play with. The feeling of something resting on her flank pulls Strikestar from her thoughts. She looks over, finding Hyeridrizzle resting her head, cheek smushed slightly.

“I never took you as one to have kits.” The warrior says, smiling softly.

“I guess I just never got around to it while in Streamclan.” Strikestar replies. “I’ve always wanted kits though.”

“That’s nice.” Hyeridrzzle’s smile widens. She closes her eyes, letting out a content hum.

Strikestar settles herself, curling her paws under herself and placing her head on the ground. The setting sun was washing the camp in a golden hue. It was time for sharing tongues, but she was fine with laying here, sharing warmth with one of her close friends.

******

A rough tongue grooms around Strikestar’s ears, filling her chest with warmth, matching the same warmth she felt pressed against her back. Her ear flicks, making a chuckle rumble against her back.

“Sorry.” Jayheart meows, nosing her cheek.

“It’s ok.” Strikestar replies. Humming, she turns over, coming nose to nose with the tom. His smile widens, eyes warm.

“You get more beautiful every time I look at you.”

Strikestar scoffs, cheeks flushing. She tucks her head under his chest, nuzzling into his fur.

A loud purr starts up in Jayheart’s chest, filling the comfortable silence.

“I have something to tell you.” Strikestar meows, voice slightly muffled by Jayheart’s fur. The tom hums, shifting slightly.

“I’m pregnant.”

Jayheart’s breath hitches, purr stuttering, but not stopping. He pulls back, eyes wide, and stares at Strikestar.

Strikestar stares back, brow furrowed. She didn’t know how Jayheart would react to the news. Sure, they’d talked about having kits, multiple times, but talking about it and actually doing it were two different things. Not to mention they were in different clans now.

“Are you serious?” Jayheart asks, drawing Strikestar out of her thoughts.

“Yes. Shinepelt confirmed it the other day. I wanted to tell you as soon as I could.” Strikestar replies. She’s suddenly tackled, falling back with a grunt. Laughter fills the air as Jayheart peppers Strikestar’s face with licks and nuzzles.

“We’re gonna be parents!” Jayheart exclaims. He sits back, looking down at Strikestar. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

“You’re going to be the best dad.” Strikestar meows, reaching up and pressing her nose to his.

Jayheart lowers himself again, resting his head on her chest. “You make me so happy.” He purrs.

“You make me so happy too.” Strikestar closes her eyes, content to lay there for as long as she can. Jayheart snuggles closer, wrapping a paw around her.

They stay there until the first glow of dawn starts breaking through the canopy.

[swampclanclangen]

Refs for the first Swamp kits and the Starclan guide

These were the first kit designs I made and idk if I particularly like them

[swampclanclangen]

Month 7 - Leaf-Fall

Shinepelt stares down at his reflection in the water, eyes focusing on the new scar across the bridge of his nose. He brings up a paw, gently touching the freshly healed wound. He didn’t think a simple torn pelt from gathering herbs would scar, but every warrior has their fair share of them. Seemed to only make sense that he’d gain a couple too. Turning away, he stoops to grab a few coltsfoot leaves, careful not to break them with his teeth. Shinepelt pads across the den to the two sniffling warriors seated next to each other.

Both Hyeridrizzle and Fennelpelt had come down with whitecough and Shinepelt was praying to Starclan that it stayed whitecough and didn’t progress. However, in the meantime, neither of the warriors were allowed to continue their regular duties and were on forced nestrest.

Shinepelt drops two leaves in front of each warrior, nosing the herbs closer. “Chew these up real well and swallow.” Sitting back, he watches the warriors follow his directions, huffing in amusement at their poorly disguised disgust.

“I don’t know how you chew these up all the time.” Fennelpelt meows, sticking out his tongue. Small pieces of herb stick out on his tongue.

“You get used to it.” Shinepelt replies, tail flicking.

Beside Fennelpelt, Hyeridrizzle finally swallows her herbs, gulping audibly. She wrinkles her nose, teeth baring. “Blegh. How many times do I have to do that?”

“Until your cough is gone.” Shinepelt stands and gestures to the stream at the back of his den. “Get a drink and settle into a nest. No work until I give you the clear, understood?”

“Yes, Shinepelt.” Hyeridrizzle meows, Fennelpelt echoing. The two warriors pad over to the water to drink and hopefully get the bitter taste out of their mouths.

Shinepelt nods approvingly and moves over to where Strikestar’s been watching everything go down. He settles down next to her, tail curling over his paws.

“I hope this isn’t a precursor to how leaf-bare is going to go.” He grumbles just loud enough that only Strikestar could hear.

“I’m sure everything will be fine. Starclan wouldn’t look down so unfavorably on us.” Strikestar meows, watching her warriors sort out which nests to take. “They wouldn’t be so cruel.”

“They can be plenty cruel. Their help just happens to be talked about more.” Shinepelt says, a bitter note creeping into his voice.

“Shinepelt.” Strikestar looks up at her friend, brow furrowed. She reaches a paw out to the tom, but he turns away, pushing himself to his feet.

“I have to go check on the kits. Can you make sure those two stay in their nests?”

“Of course.” Strikestar watches the tom pad out of the cave, tail tip brushing the dirt.

Shinepelt trots across the clearing to the nursery, already able to hear the excited chatter coming from inside. He noses into the entrance, pushing thick foliage out of his way. Blinking his eyes to get used to the dull lighting, he spots three bodies crouched in the far corner of the den. Quietly, he steps the rest of the way inside and creeps up behind the kittens.

“Maybe we wait until papa leaves on a patrol. With Strikestar, Fennelpelt, and Hyeridrizzle all sick, there’s less grown-ups to stop us.” Coldkit meows, head held high as he waits for feedback from his sisters. He had become the leader of their little group and seemed to take the role very seriously.

“We should go out early in the morning. The warriors won’t be awake enough to notice us.” Bugkit, sitting on the little tom’s left side, adds. Her pelt had considerably darkened, now black instead of gray.

“But wouldn’t that only work if papa has dawn patrol?” Milkkit asks, loafing at her brother’s right side. If Shinepelt had one word to describe the kit, it would be round. Her eyes, her ears, her cheeks, even her body, were round, kitten fat still very prevalent.

“We’ll just wait until he goes on dawn patrol. Duh.” Coldkit says, frowning.

“But papa doesn’t like dawn patrol.”

“Then we’ll just sneak out while he’s still asleep.” Bugkit replies.

“I think your father would work himself into a panic if he awoke to find you three missing.” Shinepelt finally speaks up. All three kits startle, spinning around to face the healer with fur puffed up. Recognizing it to only be Shinepelt, they relax, but only a little.

“How much of that did you hear?” Coldkit asks, ears pressed back as his face heated up.

“Enough. Now, are you going to stop with this sneaking out nonsense or do I need to tell Paletail?” Shinepelt lifts a brow, staring the kittens down.

Coldkit looks down at his paws, body deflating. “We’ll stop.” He mumbles. Beside him Bugkit pouts, swiping her paw across the dirt.

“Good. A gator wouldn’t hesitate to snap you up out there and we don’t want that.” Shinepelt says.

“I bet we could catch one!” Coldkit meows, puffing out his chest with a defiant look. He was definitely Paletail’s son.

“You’re saying that now, but just wait until you see one in real life. They’re big. Even bigger than Paletail and Strikestar, and have rows of sharp teeth.” Shinepelt replies, smiling down at the kit.

“I bet with all three of us, it won’t stand a chance!”

Shinepelt purrs in amusement. “Why don’t you bring that up with your papa when he gets back. In the meantime, I gotta check you for whitecough.”

******

“Those kits of yours are quite a pawful.” Yarrowtuft meows, nose to the ground as she sniffs for prey.

Paletail chuckles. “Yea, I guess they are.” He stays quiet for a moment, frowning. “Is, uh, is that a bad thing?”

Yarrowtuft raises her head, brow furrowed. She’d never heard Paletail sounding so anxious before. The large tom had a worried expression, ears pressed back and tail flicking uneasily. Yarrowtuft decided then and there she didn’t like that look on her warrior. It didn’t fit the usually energetic, care-free cat.

“Of course not. You’ve got three of them to look after, that would be a lot for any cat.” Yarrowtuft replies, face softening. When Paletail doesn’t seem to relax, Yarrowtuft drapes her tail across his back. “Ok, tell me. What has you so worried?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know if I can be a dad.” Paletail says, head dipping below his shoulders.

“Well, there’s nothing you can do about that now.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“But, no one knows what they’re doing the first time around. Parenting doesn’t come with any training or moves to ensure you win. You just have to stumble around and figure out what works.” Yarrowtuft smiles up at the tom. “And I think you're doing a great job.”

“You really mean that?” Paletail asks, tilting his head to the deputy.

“I do. You're a good dad, Paletail. Those kits are lucky to have you.” Yarrowtuft pulls away, opening her mouth to scent the air. “Now come on, I know you promised them you’d catch them a squirrel for their first solid meal. There’s a garlic patch up ahead we can use to hide our scent.”

Paletail watches Yarrowtuft walk away, smiling. She was usually right about everything. He hoped this was one of those things. Pushing himself to his paws, Paletail pads after her, quickly catching up.

******

Green eyes follow Shinepelt and Dawnfrost, peeking out from the leaves of one of the many mangroves on this side of the territory. Ears flicking forward, he steps out of cover, making his way further along the branch. Setting his paws down lightly, he balances on the tip, looking down at the clan cats stopped beneath him. Gently, he lowers himself down until his belly touches the branch, letting his paw hang down. The cat sighs, resting his head on his leg as he watches the toms.

“You know, you could always visit them in their sleep if you miss them so much?” The soft timbre comes from above, drawing the cat's attention away.

“I know.” The cat finds the owner of the voice, a senior tom, sitting on a branch just a tail length above him. “I’m just scared of what will happen if I do. Shinepelt’s been doing so well lately. I don’t want to drag him back down.”

“He can’t be a healer if he doesn’t know how to deal with messages from lost loved ones, Lowback.” The old tom replies, hopping down to Lowback’s branch.

“He’s still just a cat. Being a healer doesn’t stop that.” Lowback looks back down, finding that the clan cats had gotten up and carried on, the flash of a black and white tail disappearing into the brush.

“You’re just a cat. Didn’t stop you from sacrificing yourself to save another.”

“It’s not the same, Berryjump, and you know that.” Lowback retorts, voice harsher than he means it to be. He continues to look on, not wanting to see the pitiful look he knows is on the elder’s face. They flow into a companionable silence. A familiar silence. Birdsong fills the air, being interrupted by the occasional chitter of an overexcited squirrel. It was nice, something Lowback had gotten used to in his time out of the moorlands.

Finally, Lowback says, “He got a scar…”

Berryjump hums thoughtfully, curling his tail around his paws. “So he did.”

“I was supposed to be able to prevent that.”

“You may have been a great warrior, but I’m not sure there was much you could have done against a plant.” Berryjump teases, smiling.

“I could have picked it for him, or… or made sure he took care of himself more!” Lowback sits up and glares at Berryjump over his shoulder. “There are so many things I could have done!”

Berryjump frowns. Sighing, he approaches the young warrior, eyes scanning over his body. It glowed bright and yellow, like Starclan wasn’t quite sure where to put his death mark. He doesn’t blame them. He wouldn’t know where to put the mark of a burn victim that had no body left to recover after either. Berryjump figures he would have been biased though. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t have let the barely warrior die so early.

“You’re right. There was a lot you could have done. But the world is cruel, and sometimes even Starclan can’t do anything about it.” Berryjump presses his nose to the top of the tom’s head, and pulls back, looking Lowback in the eye. “We may be able to help guide the clans, but at the end of the day, we’re still just their ancestors. We didn’t gain mystical powers from dying.”

“I wish we did. Would make going to Starclan so early worth it.” Lowback grumbles, still angry, but can’t help himself from leaning into the elder.

“Don’t we all?” Berryjump wraps his paw around Lowback and pulls him closer.

The bushes rustle below them and Shinepelt steps out, jaws full of herbs. Dawnfrost follows behind him, face scrunched up, no doubt in disgust, as the taste of the herbs invade his mouth. They pass through, oblivious to the starry cats sitting above them.

Once again, green eyes are drawn to the clan cats, watching them. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to say hi, just once.

[swampclanclangen]

Month 6 - Leaf-Fall

Paletail stares down at the small bundles of fluff at his feet, mouth opening and closing, trying to form words. There was no way this could be happening. No way. Oh stars, what was he going to tell Strikestar? Shinepelt? Any of them? One of the little bundles lifts their head and lets out a small meow, daintily reaching out a paw. Slowly, he leans down and sniffs them, taking in their warm milky scent. He pulls back and finally looks up, ears pressed back.

The small she-cat in front of him avoided his gaze, tail flicking uneasily. He hadn’t seen her in almost a month and now she shows up with kits? His eyes trail along her brown tabby pelt, thinking back to his first encounter with her. He’d just become a warrior and they’d fallen for each other fast. Too fast. One thing led to another and he found himself stumbling home, lovedrunk.

“I…” He trails off, looking back down at the kits. They were so small. How could something be so small? “I don’t know…”

“Please, Paletail. Please take them. They’ll have much better lives in your clan than out on the streets with me.” The she-cat pleads, finally looking up.

Paletail meets her gaze. Yellow meeting blue in a staring match. A dormant emotion he’d felt when she first disappeared resurfaced: anger.

“You disappear for a moon, no goodbye, no word, nothing! Then you show up with kits?” He asks, growl creeping into his voice despite his best attempt to keep it out.

“I didn’t know what to do! I got pregnant and panicked!” The she-cat defends, ears pressing back into her skull.

“How can I be sure they’re even mine?” Paletail’s eyes narrow, tail lashing angrily behind him. “How can I trust you?”

“Oh Paletail, how could they not be yours?” The she-cat steps forward, nuzzling her head under his chin. She lingers for a moment before pulling back just enough to look at Paletail. “You’re the only cat I could imagine myself with. My Paletail.”

Paletail feels himself soften and leans down, pressing his nose into her cheek. He sighs, curling his tail around his kits. “Come with me. Please.”

“You know I can’t do that. I’d never fit in.” The she-cat draws away, head hanging. “We can’t see each other anymore. I’d never want you to leave if we did.”

“Milk…” Paletail reaches forward with a paw, but the she-cat ducks away. She turns and walks away.

“Goodbye Paletail.”

“Goodbye, Milk.” Paletail’s heart grows heavy as she disappears into the underbrush. He looks back down at the kits, frowning. How was he going to do this?

******

Paletail pads into camp, back heavy with the weight of his kits. His smallest kit dangled from his jaws, letting out little muffled protests into his chest. He looks around the camp, foolishly hoping that no one would notice him. He pads along the side, eyes narrowing in on the nursery. He’s halfway there when a thorn catches on the pelt of his youngest. They let out a loud cry, squirming in his jaws. Eyes turn his way and Paletail freezes, fur fluffing up.

“Paletail?” Strikestar is the first to speak, head tilting as she takes in the scene before her. “Whatcha got there, bud?”

Paletail’s eyes dart from left to right, then back to Strikestar. Carefully, he sets down his kit and offers a sheepish smile. “Would you believe me if I told you, you were dreaming right now?”

Strikestar lets out an unimpressed hum, brow raising. She looks at Hyeridrizzle beside her, who shakes her head fondly. She sighs and beckons Paletail over with a flick of her tail.

Paletail slumps, jostling the kits on his back and making them squeak. He picks up his youngest and pads over to the medicine den, acutely aware of eyes on him. Stars, this was embarrassing.

“Out of all the things you taught him, Fennelpelt, being careful wasn’t one of them?” Yarrowtuft’s voice travels across the clearing from the warrior’s den.

“I didn’t think I needed to.” Fennelpelt sighs, making Paletail hunch his shoulders. Oh great, now he’d disappointed his crush.

Paletail stops in front of Strikestar, ears pressed back against his skull. He sets down his youngest and reaches back for his other kits, bringing them down one after the other. He flops down onto his haunches, face burning.

“Ignore them. I bet they were doing things worse than having a little night out when they were your age.” Strikestar says, covering Paletail’s paw with her own.

“I know I was.” Hyeridrizzle huffs, smiling. She stretches forward and sniffs one of the kits, the largest. She chuckles as the kit baps her nose, meowing.

“I’d call it more than a night out. I couldn’t convince her to come back with me.” Paletail says, looking away from Strikestar and down at his kits. “I wasn’t even sure I was going to bring the kits with me.”

“Well I’m glad you did. They’re going to be safer here, Paletail, I know it.” Strikestar replies.

“Have you thought of any names?” Hyeridrizzle asks. The kitten she had been playing with latches onto her paw. “She’s a feisty one.”

Paletail smiles, the first one he has since watching Milk leave, and reaches down to nuzzle the kit. She was the biggest of the three, dark gray and fluffy. Little stripes break up her body. The kit turns her attention to Paletail and bites down on his nose, though without any teeth, it only tickled.

“I’m thinkin’ Bugkit. She’s squirmy like one.” Paletail says, gently pulling away. He looks over to his middle kit, his little boy.

The tom was clambering over his youngest sibling, reaching around blindly. He lifts his head, meowing loudly at Paletail. He was similar in color to his sister, just a little lighter, and had the same stripes along his body. Paletail presses his nose against the kit’s, wrinkling it.

“His nose is cold. Coldkit.”

“I like them.” Strikestar smiles, eyes shining. She looks down at the smallest, a little brown she-cat with darker swirling stripes. “What about this little girl?”

Paletail shifts his gaze to the youngest and visibly softens. He settles down, curling his paws underneath him and nuzzles the brown kitten. “Milkkit.”

Strikestar reaches forward and licks the top of Paletail’s head, purring. “Those are perfect names.”

“Thanks.” Paletail smiles at his leader, warmth blooming in his chest. Maybe everything was going to be alright. If everyone else is as supportive as Strikestar, that is.

“Alright, lemme see them.” Yarrowtuft settles down next to Paletail, laying her tail across his back. Her eyes scan the kits bundled together in front of her, a smile slowly creeping across her face. “They are rather cute.”

“Plus having new kits means the clan is growing.” Fennelpelt adds, leaning over Paletail. He places his paw on the other side of the large tom, leaning down so far that his chest brushes against Paletail’s ears. Paletail, on the other hand, was doing a very good job of hiding the way his breath stuttered at the contact.

Strikestar shoots the tom an understanding, yet teasing, look, much to his dismay.

“I wonder if training any of them will be the same as training Paletail.” Fennelpelt meows. He reaches out a paw and places it next to Milkkit. The little she-kit crawls closer to it and opens her mouth in a pitiful wail.

Paletail stiffens, frowning. Gently, he noses his youngest, turning her attention to him. “What’s wrong Milk?”

Milkkit squeaks and bats at his face, little claws getting caught in his cheek fluff. She pulls herself against his chest and curls up.

“Shinepelt went out with Dawnfrost to look for herbs. I’m sure he’ll be back soon to give the kits a once-over.” Hyeridrizzle says.

“I should probably move them to the nursery in the meantime. It’s probably not good for them to be moved around as much as they have been.” Paletail grabs the scruff of Milkkit and stands, careful not to jostle her.

“Fennelpelt and Yarrowtuft can carry Coldkit and Bugkit.” Strikestar says, gesturing to the two kits curled into one another.

Paletail nods. After making sure his other kits were secure, he turns and makes his way to the nursery. He pushes into the thick shrubbery, blinking to get used to the dark lighting. Looking around, he spots a divot in the ground, and pads up to it. Placing Milkkit down, he turns to Fennelpelt and Yarrowtuft, waiting for them to deposit the kits.

“Thanks guys.” Paletail says, bowing his head.

“Don’t mention it.” Fennelpelt smiles, sitting down. “I’ll sit with them while you get some moss to make a nest.”

“I’ll help you with that. Maybe we can find some feathers too.” Yarrowtuft meows, leading the way out of the nursery.

Paletail follows after her, looking over his shoulder one last time before stepping out into the clearing. The image of Fennelpelt curled up next to his kits was one he definitely enjoyed.

******

Shinepelt was a little surprised when he learned that Paletail was the first to have kits. He would have bet it was going to be Strikestar. Oh well, you don’t win them all. However, he was very surprised to learn just how anxious of a cat Paletail was. When it came to his kits, that is.

“Are you sure she’s ok? What if the thorn got under her skin? Can that happen? Oh, Starclan, I just got them and I’m already a bad dad.” Paletail frets, body pressed to Shinepelt’s back as he looks over the medicine cat’s shoulder.

Shinepelt sighs, rolling his eyes. “You’re not a bad dad, Paletail. A bad dad abandons his kits, and you didn’t do that.”

“But what if-”

“Paletail.”

Paletail’s jaw clamps shut and he looks down at the medicine cat, brow furrowed. The small tom steps away and turns to face him, putting a paw over the warrior’s.

“Listen to me ok?” Paletail nods. “You’ve had these kits for less than a day. At least wait until a moon has passed to decide what kind of father you are.”

Paletail sighs, shoulders slumping. “What if I don’t know how to be a dad? I don’t have one to teach me how.” The paw on his foot travels up to his shoulder, squeezing.

“You have a whole clan to help you out. Strikestar and Yarrowtuft have both been around for their clans’ kits, and I’ve been a medicine cat for a majority of my life. If I don’t know how to take care of a kit by now, then consider me a failure.” Shinepelt purrs, smiling.

“Yea, yea you're right. Thanks Shinepelt.” Paletail smiles back at the tom, ears flicking forward.

“I’m always right. Now.” Shinepelt pulls away and turns back to the now slumbering kits. “They’re all fine, just tired. Nothing a little nap can’t fix.” He pushes himself to his feet and pads past Paletail to the entrance.

“What should I do if they wake up?” Paletail asks, not taking his eyes off his kits.

“Lay with them. Let them get used to your scent and voice. Before you know it, they’ll be running around camp causing trouble.”

Paletail nods. Carefully, he steps into the large nest and curls up around his kits, laying his fluffy tail across their bodies. Resting his head on the edge of the nest, he resigns himself to contently lay and watch them.

******

Dawnfrost follows closely behind Yarrowtuft and Hyeridrizzle, eyes trained on the ground watching their paw prints appear in the mud. His eyes skip between the two sets of pawprints, studying their differences. Hyeridrizzle’s paws were, naturally, larger than Yarrowtuft’s, but Yarrowtuft seemed to have a longer stride than Hyeridrizzle. It must be from her heritage as a Patchouliclan cat. In gatherings, he noticed they tended to walk faster than other cats, though he could never tell if it was because they had shorter legs and had to keep up, or if they just were used to running and walking was foreign to them. It wouldn’t hurt to ask Yarrowtuft. Or maybe it would. Would she be offended and think he was calling her short? Maybe he should preface that he’s not before asking. Would that be rude? Insensitive? Maybe he could ask Strikestar. He would’ve asked Lowback, but…

Dawnfrost shakes his head, drawing himself out of his thoughts. He looks down at the paw prints, brow furrowing. It’s best not to think about that. Up ahead, Yarrowtuft and Hyeridrizzle chat about something Fennelpelt caught on patrol the other day. He didn’t bother paying much attention. He hears enough about the black warrior from Paletail. His eyes travel down to his own paws, noticing the way the mud was turning his white paw brown. That’d be a pain to clean later. He adjusts his stride and starts placing his paws in the older warriors' already formed paw prints, hoping to decrease the amount of mud getting on him. He continues like this for a few cat lengths, hopping from paw print to paw print.

Suddenly, he freezes, paw planted in a print not belonging to his fellow clanmates. Hackles raising, he lifts his head, eyes following the prints to his right where they disappeared under leaves.

“Yarrowtuft.” He softly calls, gaining the attention of the deputy. Once she turns he nods to the side. “Paw prints going that way.”

Without waiting for her reply, he turns and pushes through the undergrowth, eyes to the ground following the prints. He could smell the cat, but couldn’t place a clan to them. Definitely not a friendly cat. A twig snaps in front of him, making him freeze. Eyes narrowing, he spots the shape of the cat ahead. Dawnfrost bounds ahead, stopping just a tail length from the intruder.

“Hey!”

The rogue cat stops, lifting their head. They turn slightly, regarding Dawnfrost with a cold glare. The cat was bigger than him, but so is Paletail and he’s beaten the tom in battle training before.

“You’re on Swampclan territory.”

The rogue scoffs, lip curling. “Says who?” The rogue’s voice was rough and deep, like his vocal chords had been damaged and never recovered.

“Says me. Now get out of my territory.” Dawnfrost growls, baring his teeth. The tom in front of him smirks, which only makes Dawnfrost’s tail lash.

“You and what army, kit?” He retorts, turning fully to face Dawnfrost, claws unsheathing.

The brush behind Dawnfrost swishes as Yarrowtuft and Hyeridrizzle join him, fur fluffed and ears pressed back.

“Us.” Hyeridrzzle says, claws digging into the ground.

“You heard him, move along.” Yarrowtuft adds.

The rogue pulls himself up, eyes widening. Doubt flickers across his face, leaving a satisfied swirl in Dawnfrost. Finally, the rogue turns away with a sneer. He spits into the undergrowth, flicking his tail dismissively.

“The swamp sucks anyway.” He growls before trotting away into the undergrowth.

“Follow him.” Yarrowtuft commands Hyeridrzzle. She nods when the warrior listens without hesitation, pushing into the undergrowth. The deputy looks back to Dawnfrost, smiling. “You did good kid.”

“Really?” Dawnfrost asks, hackles flattening out. He beams down at the ginger cat.

“Sure thing. I got a few tips on your introduction though.” Yarrowtuft steps back into the undergrowth, intent on presuming their patrol.

Dawnfrost hops after her, attention solely on the deputy as she talks.

[swampclanclangen]

Month 5 - Greenleaf

Out of all his clanmates, Shinepelt can say with confidence that he knew the least about Dawnfrost. The introverted tom typically only talked to Paletail and Strikestar, occasionally Fennelpelt when the other two warriors couldn’t be found. So to say he was surprised when Dawnfrost agreed to come with him to look for herbs was an understatement.

Shinepelt glances over to the warrior padding next to him, watching the way his eyes darted around. Warriors always seemed to be doing that.

“So why did you decide to come along with me?” He can’t help but ask. “You’re usually having a little training session with Paletail at this time of day.”

“He said he had something important to do, but that he’d make it up to me.” Dawnfrost replies.

“That’s odd.”

“Yea, but I’ve learned not to question him when he does random things. It just leads to a headache and me being dragged into it.” Dawnfrost’s voice was annoyed, but Shinepelt could see the fond way his nose wrinkled.

Shinepelt lets them go back to a slightly tense, but companionable silence. Raising his head, he sniffs at the air. When he could only smell the damp earth around them, he opened his mouth, letting everything drift to the sensors on the roof of his mouth. A sweet, minty smell invades his senses. Jackpot. Shinepelt speeds up to a trot, being careful to hop over the puddles littering the ground. Finally, he sees the intricately swirled leaves of mullein.

“Perfect.” He murmurs to himself. Shinepelt walks up to the tall plant and immediately gets to work. Dropping to the ground, he makes quick work of cutting the leaves and flowers off at the base. Pulling back, he drops the first mouthful on the ground, then ducks down to retrieve any fallen leaves.

“So… what kind of herb is this?” Dawnfrost asks, leaning down to sniff the pile at Shinepelt’s paws. “Smells like catmint.”

“It’s called mullein.” Shinepelt replies. “Good for coughs. I’ll be needing to store up on herbs like these with the coming leafbare.”

Shinepelt collects another mouthful. “And you're right about it smelling like catmint. New apprentices tend to get them mixed up, but they’re both needed so it's not necessarily a bad mistake. However, finding mullein instead of catmint can be a death sentence for a cat with greencough.

“As far as we know, catmint is the only cure for greencough. Nothing else seems to be strong enough. Oh, and don’t get me started on redcough and blackcough. They’re the worst possible scenarios. Barely survivable, if survival at all. Yellowcough can be bad too…” Shinepelt trails off, realizing that he’s been rambling on. He gives Dawnfrost an apologetic look, but finds the young warrior looking at him with rapt attention, a rare smile on his face.

“Go on. Tell me about yellowcough. I never realized there were so many kinds of illnesses.” Dawnfrost prompts, leaning forward.

Shinepelt smiles. The only other cat that encouraged his ramblings had been Lowback.

“So, yellowcough, while not as dangerous as the other coughs, can only be cured with lungwort…”

******

“You did a good job with Dawnfrost.”

Strikestar lifts her head, tail flicking in greeting to Shinepelt as he pads into the den, bundles of herbs in leaf sacs hanging from his back.

“He’s a very polite young tom.” The medicine cat says, reaching back and lifting the sacs from his back. He lays them in front of Strikestar.

“He did that all on his own. I just helped with the small things like climbing and hunting.” Strikestar replies. She reaches forward and opens the bundles, pulling out different herbs and setting them into piles.

Shinepelt purrs out a thank you, taking each pile and setting them in their designated spaces. Turning back to Strikestar, he settles himself next to her leg. He bends down and sniffs at the bandaging. The absence of sourness banishes a heavy weight he didn’t realize had been holding him down.

“So what’s the verdict, Doc? Do I get to leave soon?”

“What? You don’t enjoy being trapped in my cave of healing?” Shinepelt teases, nose wrinkling as he smiled.

“Listen Shinepelt, I love you, but if I have to chew up another poultice for you I think I’m going to lose my sense of taste.” Strikestar replies. “Why did you even insist on me staying here?”

“It’s more convenient for me, especially after what you did.” Shinepelt replies, making quick work of cutting through the web bandage and pushing it to the side.

“Oh, well I’m so sorry me breaking my leg is such an inconvenience for you.” Strikestar rolls her eyes, flicking the tom with her tail.

“You should be sorry. I can’t believe I actually have to do my job because of you.” Shinepelt smirks, batting her tail out of the way. Leaning to the side, he curls a paw around a pile of assorted herbs and pulls it close. He laps up the leaves and quickly chews, the bitter taste having long since stopped bothering him. Once satisfied with the consistency, he licks the poultice into Strikestar’s fur, focusing most on the worst part of the break.

Strikestar watches him in silence, occasionally wincing when he licks a little too hard. She didn’t quite understand how it all worked, or why it worked as well as it did, but gradually the dull ache fades away. Letting out a sigh, she rests her head on her paws.

“There we go. I’m going to leave the leg unbandaged to let it get some air for a little while. Try your best not to move it.” Shinepelt says, pushing himself to his paws. He pads to the small stream in the back of his den and crouches down. He laps up the water, effectively getting rid of the remaining herbs on his tongue.

“So…”

Strikestar turns her head to the tom, ear flicking. Shinepelt puts off continuing until he was sure his mouth was clean.

“Who’s the lucky tom?”

Strikestar freezes, her whole body tensed and ready to run. From what, she wasn’t sure. Wasn’t sure she could even run in the first place.

“What?” She finally says, ears back and tail tip flicking.

“Or she-cat. I’m not one to judge, for obvious reasons.” Shinepelt meows, giving Strikestar a raised brow. “Don’t try to lie to me. I can smell them on your fur. And,” Shinepelt says louder, cutting off Strikestar as she opens her mouth, “I can feel the stress you're putting on your break from walking.”

Shinepelt saunters back over, tail waving lazily in the air. He flops down in front of Strikestar, rolling onto his back and looking at his leader. He reaches out and boops her nose with his paw.

“Spill.”

Strikestar looks at him with narrowed eyes, ears lowering the longer they stare at each other. Shinepelt’s eyes remain wide open, reminding Strikestar of when he was just a bumbling kit chasing his littermates around camp. She wasn’t particularly surprised when he decided to become a medicine cat. Although, if you asked her, Strikestar would say his real path laid in being a mediator. The way he could easily wiggle information out of someone was fascinating to watch. Not to be on the receiving end though.

Strikestar sighs, deflating, ignoring Shinepelt’s celebratory shimmy. She gives the tom a look, conveying as best she can that she’s not exactly happy about it. Shinepelt merely gives her a smug smile.

“Fine. It’s Jayheart.”

Shinepelt gasps and rolls over, eyes shining. “Oh my stars, are you serious? Shardwillow’s gonna be so jealous. She’s been trying to get with him since she became a warrior.”

“Shardwillow’s not going to find out, and neither is anyone else in the clan.” Strikestar meows, eyes flashing in warning. She didn’t need her clanmates thinking she wasn’t fit to be their leader.

“Fluff down, I’m not going to tell anyone.” Shinepelt sits up, curling his tail over his paws. “Better be careful though. I don’t think kits will be very easy to hide.”

“We’re not exactly trying for kits, Shinepelt.” Strikestar says, face heating up. “We’ve only been meeting for a couple moons.”

“Bummer. I think the kits would look cute.” Shinepelt laughs at the indignant scoff from Strikestar.

“Never gonna happen.”

“Whatever you say, Strikestar.”

[swampclanclangen]

Updated Refs

I’m currently in the process of writing chapters ahead of time so I can post more often. While I’ve been doing that, I decided to update some of the refs of Pale, Dawn, and Low. I was originally going to have just a base that I changed as time went on, but I ended up not liking that, so I’m making a ref for every change of their lives

So, here’s apprentice refs of Pale and Dawn (their warriors refs are the same), and a new ref for Starclan Low

[swampclanclangen]

Month 4 - Greenleaf

Paletail pads across the clearing, tail swaying happily behind him. He spots the stretched out body of Dawnfrost laying in one of the many sunbeams filling the camp. Smiling, he changes course, slowing his pawsteps to a stalk. Paletail crouches down a few tail lengths away, wiggling his hindquarters. Taking in a deep breath, he launches himself forward, landing belly first on top of the smaller tom.

Dawnfrost grunts, eyes shooting open as all the breath leaves his body. Laughing erupts above him and he looks up with a sharp glare, spotting his friend.

“Paletail.” He growls. Dawnfrost twists his upper body and pushes at the tom. “Get off me you big lug.”

“Oh, but I’m sooooo comfy. Can’t you let me stay here just a little bit longer?” Paletail stretches out, but slowly slides off Dawnfrost until only his back legs are on him.

“You’re going to crush me one of these days.” Dawnfrost meows, giving Paletail an annoyed look. He goes back to his previous outstretched position.

“And what a way to die that’ll be. Don’t worry though, I’ll give you a few more years.” Paletail adjusts himself to curl his front paws under his chest, but keeps his back paws across Dawnfrost.

“How considerate of you.” Dawnfrost grumbles.

“I know right. I should have been honored for that in my warrior ceremony.”

“You shouldn’t have been honored at all.”

“Um, rude. I’ll have you know that I…”

Dawnfrost waits for Paletail to continue, ear flicking. After a few heartbeats he lifts his head, giving his friend a confused look. “That you what?”

“Huh?” Paletail doesn’t turn his head back to his friend, staring across the camp.

“You’ll have me know that you what? What were you going to say?”

“Oh, um… sorry, I forgot.”

Dawnfrost hums, staring at his friend. Finally, he follows the bigger tom’s gaze, wanting to know what has him so distracted. A teasing smile breaks across his face when he sees just who has Paletail so enraptured.

Fennelpelt sits across the clearing, presumably laughing at a joke Strikestar had told. His eyes shone brightly, tail tip flicking lazily beside him. Dawnfrost could definitely see the appeal of the warrior.

“Oh, ok, I see.” Dawnfrost chuckles and lays back down. “Don’t let me get in the way of your ogling.”

“What! I’m not ogling! I’m just…admiring.” Paletail tears his gaze away to glare at his friend.

“Right, and I’m a talking squirrel. You're staring at him like he hung the moon and stars.” Dawnfrost replies, rolling his eyes.

“I’m just appreciating his warrior-ness. Nothing more to it.”

“Oh yea? How’s that warrior-ness looking? Lean and strong? Making your heart flutter?”

“Shut up!” Paletail rolls over and shoves his paws into Dawnfrost’s face, making the smaller tom laugh. “You make it sound like you don’t have anyone catching your eye.”

“I don’t yet, but you never know. Maybe someone else will join the clan. Then I can join you in your lovestruck staring sessions.” Dawnfrost smirks and dodges the swipe aimed at his ears.

“You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that?” Paletail huffs.

“I’m as insufferable as you are considerate.” Downfrost replies, already resigning himself to his fate as Paletail throws himself at him, laughing.

******

Yarrowtuft stares out into the rolling moorland of Patchouliclan territory, fur whipping from the harsh wind. Behind her, she can hear Fennelpelt and Dawnfrost talking about something or other. She’s not quite sure. A heavy pang hits her heart as memories of running across the hills with Lowback come to her mind. The tom was always so energetic as an apprentice. A brush against her shoulder snaps Yarrowtuft out of her thoughts.

“I miss him too, but I know that he’s happy running around in the hills of Starclan territory.” Fennelpelt meows, giving Yarrowtuft a knowing look.

“Yea, I was just thinking about when he was an apprentice. The first time I took him out, he darted down a rabbit hole because he wanted to bring something back to the clan. I had to go down and fetch him because he got lost.” Yarrowtuft purrs, smiling.

“Lowback did that?” Dawnfrost asks, lifting his head from where he was sniffing the border a few tail-lengths away. “I thought he was always super serious.”

“That’s just what he wanted you to think. Lowback was one of the most loving cats I knew. He would have made a great mentor.”

“There’s no doubt about that.” Fennelpelt meows. “We should probably continue on. It’s going to start getting dark soon.”

“You’re right. We’re almost done, shouldn’t take long.” Yarrowtuft steps around Fennelpelt, continuing down the edge of their border. Coming close to a bush, she moves to place a marking when a high-pitched squeal makes her pause. Lifting her head, she looks around, ears pricked to catch another sound.

Laughter comes from behind the bush, followed by another squeal and a shout. The voices sounded like they came from a younger cat, no older than an apprentice if Yarrowtuft had to guess. With a flick of her tail, she gains the attention of her warriors and nods to the bush. She slowly pushes through, feeling Fennelpelt brush up beside her. Yarrowtuft peeks out, spotting movement on the other side of the border.

Two kits were tussling in the grass, stubby tails waving as they playfully batted at each other. Yarrowtuft didn’t recognize either of them. They must have been born after she left. That thought makes her frown, she’d missed so much.

“What should we do?” Fennelpelt asks. “We can’t just leave them alone. What if something happens to them?”

“Their clan might be looking for them already. Patchouliclan doesn’t like trespassers and they’ll be angry if they find us on their territory.” Yarrowtuft replies.

“I’m sure they’ll understand if it’s you that they find. You used to be part of their clan afterall.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Fennelpelt. I’m part of a different clan now. I can’t just waltz into their territory.”

“I think we should take them back to their camp.” Dawnfrost meows, wiggling his way into the spot on Yarrowtuft’s other side. He looks at the kits with a smile, eyes warm. “They must have been really determined if they got this far out.”

“If we do take them back to their camp, you're going back to ours. If Patchouliclan ends up being hostile, I don’t want you getting hurt.” Yarrowtuft says.

“But I’m a warrior. I can handle myself.” Dawnfrost protests.

“I don’t want to risk it. You're still young and aren’t as skilled as Fennelpelt and I.”

Dawnfrost grumbles under his breath, but doesn’t argue. “So are you guys going to take them back?”

“I think we should.” Fennelpelt says.

Yarrowtuft it quiet for a few more heartbeats, deliberating in her head. Finally, she nods. “Yea, we’re taking them back.”

She stands and steps out of the bush. Yarrowtuft looks over her shoulder to Dawnfrost, finding only his eyes staring out from the green fronds.

“Go head back to camp, we’ll be there soon. If Strikestar asks where we are, tell her we’re taking some kits back to their camp.”

“Yes ma’am.” Dawnfrost backs out of the bush and disappears into the undergrowth.

Yarrowtuft turns  back and moves towards the part of the border the kits were playing, Fennelpelt close behind her. The kits, still chasing each other around, were oblivious to their presence. Yarrowtuft debates whether to call out to them as to not startle them. She steps over the border, mouth open to call a greeting when someone else beats her to it.

“Drykit! Thrushkit!”

“Where are you?”

Yarrowtuft freezes, tail puffing up. She scans the hills, but doesn’t spot anyone. Without a word, she turns and pads back to her side of the border, leaving Fennelpelt to follow her.

“Well that’s good. We don’t have to walk all the way to their camp now.” Fennelpelt meows, tail swishing behind him.

“It’s a good thing they didn’t see us either.” Yarrowtuft adds.

“Yea, that’d probably be bad if they did.”

Narrowed eyes watch them retreat into the shadows of the trees, tails lashing angrily.

“Heatherstar will find this very interesting.”

******

Shinepelt steps around a patch of mud, eyeing it with narrowed eyes. He only takes a few steps when he hears a sharp sucking sound.

“Oh for the love of…” Paletail’s annoyed growl makes him chuckle. The sucking sound comes again and Paletail appears beside him, holding up a mud soaked paw. “Starclan wants to punish me for something, I’m tellin’ ya.”

“Maybe if you used your eyes every once in a while, you wouldn’t be stepping in puddles all the time.” Shinepelt says, smiling when Paletail shoots him an annoyed look.

“Our whole territory is one big puddle.” Paletail licks his paw, wrinkling his nose at the earthy taste. “Besides, I never had to deal with this in Chestnutclan. You must be familiar with it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shinepelt asks, ears flicking back.

“I just mean that Streamclan has a bunch of water in their territory, right? You're used to getting your pelt wet.” Paletail replies. He licks his paw again before putting it down and looking around.

“If you're looking for clean water, you’ll have to wait until we get out of the bog.”

“Mouse-dung.”

Shinepelt lets out an amused huff. He turns back to the path before them, intent on going back to the search for herbs. In the few moons they’d been there, he’d become more familiar with the types of medical supplies he had available to him. Fennelpelt was helpful with finding some in the more forested parts of the territory and Hyeridrizzle recognized a few from the plants around her old housefolk den. He was hoping he’d be able to talk to some of the other medicine cats at the next half-moon meeting, especially his old mentor.

Suddenly, a chill travels down Shinepelt’s back, making the fur along his spine fluff up. He looks around, sensing eyes on him and spots a glimmering figure in the brush to his left. His breath hitches, eyes going wide. A Starclan cat. He didn’t recognize them though.

Paletail lifts his head, mouth open as a familiar scent invades his nose. It takes a few seconds to register, but his face morphs into one that could only be described as a kit finding something they’d been looking for.

“Palefur!” Paletail rushes forward, butting his head under the chin of the Starclan cat, purr basically shaking his body.

Shinepelt furrows his brow, looking between Paletail and the Starclan cat, Palefur. They both had long gray fur, broken up by darker gray markings. It isn’t until he gets to the face does Shinepelt realize who this cat must be.

“Look at you. You’ve grown so much!” Palefur purrs, nuzzling his son. He looks at him proudly. “You’ll be as big as me in a few more moons.”

“I’m going to be bigger than you!” Paletail meows, smirking and puffing out his chest. He laughs as Palefur brings up a paw and ruffles the fluff of fur on his head.

“Your mother will be so proud of you.”

Shinepelt smiles, watching them fondly. After a few moments he turns away, wanting to give the two a much needed moment. Paletail will catch up.

*****

Hyeridrizzle was familiar with the scent of foxes. She’d grown up smelling them around her cabin. However, that didn’t mean she was very good at telling the different breeds apart. That’s how she found herself, nose to the ground, following the scent of one. It wasn’t far away, its acrid smell filling the air. Rounding a bend, Hyeridrizzle finally spots a sharply moving red pelt ahead.

The fox had its muzzle buried in the carcass of a rabbit, not yet noticing Hyeridrizzle. If she had to guess by the mostly intact body, the fox had just started eating there. There was still a lot of meat she could bring back to the clan, to Strikestar. She was only one cat though. One cat that still, admittedly, wasn’t the best at fighting.

With a silent sigh, Hyeridrizzle turns and creeps away, careful not to make any noise. She wouldn’t be able to drive off the fox without serious injury and maybe even death. Swampclan couldn’t deal with that right now. They needed all the warriors they could get. Holding her head up high, Hyeridrizzle sets off in search of different prey.

Author's Note

I did not expect to take this long for the next chapter. I should be able to work on them more now that I readily have my laptop at hand. I had a little bit of fun with lighting for these illustrations. Let me know what y'all think of them!

[swampclanclangen]

Month 3 - Greenleaf

Strikestar pushes past a fern, feeling relief from the hot sun in the shade above her. She looks over her shoulder, spotting the dark pelt of Hyeridrizzle a few tail lengths behind.

“How are you doing back there?” Strikestar asks.

“I feel like I’m going to start melting.” Hyeridrizzle replies. She stops next to Strikestar and flops onto her haunches, head bowed. “I don’t know how you clan cats put up with this heat every year.”

“Hey, you're a clan cat now too. You’ll get used to it eventually.” Strikestar says, whiskers twitching in amusement.

“I’m gonna die of heatstroke before then.”

“Not if Shinepelt has anything to say about it. He’ll just travel to Starclan and drag you back by force if he has to.” Strikestar nudges Hyeridrizzle. “Now come on. We’re almost to the edge of the border.”

Hyeridrizzle groans and pushes herself up, following close behind her leader. She scans the undergrowth around them as they walk, listening intently to the birds singing in the trees. Before she joined the clan, Hyeridrizzle used to sit on the railing of her housefolks cabin, staring out into the trees and imagining what it would be like to live in them. The younger her would have never envisioned that she would finally be able to.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Huh?” Hyeridrizzle focuses back on the she-cat in front of her.

“You looked like you were thinking of something.”

“Just remembering when I would dream of living in the forest when I was younger. Nothing important.” Hyeridrizzle replies.

“Seems important to me. It takes guts to leave everything you’ve ever known behind. Trust me, I know.” Strikestar meows.

“I guess you would. I was just tired of the same old routine everyday. Wanted something new, you know?”

Strikestar nods, falling quiet as they finally come up to the edge of their border. She looks out at the twoleg place in the distance.

“So…why did you decide to leave your clan to make a new one?” Hyeridrizzle asks.

“Same reason as you I suppose. It was the same routine and I felt stuck. I figured making Swampclan would help me in some way.”

“And did it?” “Yea, it did. I wouldn’t change my decision even if I was given the chance.” Strikestar replies. She gets to work marking the border, Hyeridrizzle close behind. The sounds of the forest surround them. Chirping from birds and squirrels, rustling in the flowers, branches shuffling above. Strikestar wouldn’t trade the sounds of the forest for anything.

The sun was starting to make its way down when the two warriors had finally finished and were making their way back to camp. The heat of midday was waning into a cool breeze, giving some relief. Strikestar trots around a high root from one of the many mangroves in the swamp, ducking under another.

“Uh, Strikestar? Where did the birds go?” Hyeridrizzle asks.

“What do you mean?” Strikestar pauses and turns. She looks up, spotting a few birds in the trees. “The birds are still there.”

“They stopped singing. Everything stopped.” Hyeridrizzle looks around, hackles rising. “Something’s wrong.”

Strikestar flicks her ears around, trying her best to pick up any of the sounds she was listening to earlier. She picks up on a rhythmic thumping heading towards them, gradually getting louder. A low grunting joins in with the thump and dread fills Strikestar. She breaks into a run towards Hyeridrizzle, shoving her to the ground just as a large dog appears behind her. Before Strikestar could react further, jaws close around her back leg and pull her into the air. She lets out a pained yowl, lashing out with outstretched claws. Skin rips and blood splatters across her legs and underbelly.

“Strikestar!” Hyeridrizzle cries. She launches herself at the dog, jaws clamping onto loose skin around its neck.

The dog lets go of Strikestar in favor of snapping at Hyeridrizzle, just missing by a hair as the she-cat pulls away. It lets out a low growl, lips curling back.

Hyeridrizzle rakes her claws across its nose, making it jerk back. She follows it, striking out each time it tries to get closer. Finally, with one last cut, it whimpers and turns away, retreating back into the forest. Hyeridrizzle watches it go, eyes narrowed to slits and claws digging into the ground. A groan draws her attention away.

“Strikestar.” Hyeridrizzle spins around and bounds to the limp body of her leader. “Strikestar, are you ok?”

“I think…I think my leg is broken.” Strikestar replies, wincing.

“Did you lose a life?”

“No, no. Just my leg. Help me up.” Strikestar shimmies her front paws under her and pushes up.

“Woah, hey! Do you think that’s a good idea?” Hyeridrizzle asks, but goes to support Strikestar.

“Gotta get back to camp somehow.”

Hyeridrizzle frowns but doesn’t argue further. She lets Strikestar lean against her and slowly makes her way back to camp.

******

Shinepelt pushes another herb bundle back into its place in storage, humming softly to himself. He turns his attention to the pile of poppy seeds, separating them into smaller piles and putting them next to their specific herb bundles. Brushing off his paws, he stands and makes his way to the entrance of the medicine den. 

“Shinepelt, thank Starclan.” Dawnfrost bounds up to the medicine cat just as he appears.

“Dawnfrost, what’s wrong?”

“Strikestar’s hurt. Hyeridrizzle and Paletail are helping her into the camp.” Dawnfrost replies.

“Hurt? How did she get hurt?” Shinepelt asks, perking up. He pads to the entrance of the camp.

“Hyeridrizzle didn’t say how. She just told me to tell you.” Dawnfrost says, following after.

Shinepelt hums in acknowledgment. The bushes ahead rustle and Paletail comes out first, followed by Strikestar and Hyeridrizzle. The medicine cat’s eyes trail along Strikestar’s body, landing on her back leg. Her oddly twisted back leg. The blood drains from Shinepelt’s face.

“What in Starclan’s name happened?” Shinepelt exclaims, rushing forward to take Strikestar from Hyeridrizzle.

“Dog attack. Strikestar saved me.” Hyeridrizzle replies. “It grabbed her leg. She thinks it’s broken.”

“She thought right.” Shinepelt helps Strikestar to his den, letting her lay down in one of the moss nests. He turns his attention to her leg, running a paw along the limb until he gets to the break.

“So, good and bad news.”

“Good news first.”

“Nope, bad news first.”

“You’re mean.”

“Shush. The leg is definitely broken, however, it’s not as bad as it looks. The bone isn’t sticking through the skin and it feels like it’ll set well enough.” Shinepelt turns away to grab a couple sticks and some cobwebs. He sets the sticks on either side of her leg.

“Brace yourself.” Shinepelt meows. He waits a moment before straightening out the leg and pinning it to the ground with his own back leg.

Strikestar lets out a sharp hiss, digging her claws into the ground. She lays her head on the ground.

Shinepelt thickly wraps the cobwebs around the sticks and her leg, making sure the splint wouldn’t come apart or loosen.

“You have to be more careful, you know that.” Shinepelt says.

“I couldn’t just let the dog get Hyeridrizzle. I have nine lives for a reason.” Strikestar forces out through clenched teeth.

“You could lose those nine lives faster than you think. One wrong move and you're helpless to stop it. Didn’t your mother ever tell you about the Tiger that lost his lives in one swipe?”

“That’s just a story.” Strikestar scoffs.

“Every story comes from some form of truth.” Shinepelt looks at Strikestar, frowning at the conflicted look on her face. He sighs.

“Listen, I’m not trying to tell you what to do or that you shouldn’t do your best to protect everyone. I’m just telling you to be careful.” Shinepelt settles down next to his leader and starts to groom her blood speckled fur.

“We still need you as our leader. It’s too soon for you to leave us.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Strikestar says, closing her eyes and relaxing.

“No need to apologize. Now try to get some sleep. You’ll need all the rest you can to heal up quickly.”

Strikestar hums, curling her tail around her body.

Shinepelt continues his ministrations, feeling the change in breathing underneath him as Strikestar slips into unconsciousness.

“Shinepelt?”

The tom looks up, spotting Hyeridrizzle standing in the entrance to his den.

“Will she be ok?”

“Just fine. She’ll just have to rest and heal up.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Hyeridrizzle lingers in the entrance, like she wants to say more.

Shinepelt smiles softly, giving the warrior a reassuring look as he guesses what might be bothering her. “It’s not your fault. Strikestar would have done this for any cat.”

“How did you?” Hyeridrizzle tilts her head.

“Medicine cat intuition. Now go rest.”

“Thank you, Shinepelt.”

“No problem.” Shinepelt turns back to Strikestar and goes back to cleaning her fur.

******

Authors Note

Sorry this one is on the shorter side and has no illustrations, I've been busy with work. There also wasn't much that happened this moon. Hopefully I'll be able to do more for the next chapter!

[swampclanclangen]

Month 2 - Newleaf

Strikestar looks out at her clan, watching them meander around the camp. Her gaze was on two particular cats, though: Dawnpaw and Palepaw. The two moons since they first became a clan seemed to have passed in a blur and the apprentices had grown into cats worthy of being warriors, and literally growing too. Palepaw had quickly become the second biggest cat in the clan, just a bit smaller than Strikestar herself. Dawnpaw had grown too, his head that had barely reached her shoulder now went above it. They would definitely make the clan proud.

“Strikestar, you wanted to see me?” Fennelpelt’s voice breaks the leader out of her thoughts. The young tom settles down beside her, following her gaze to the apprentices. “I’m guessing they’re the topics you wanted to talk about.”

“Yes. I think it’s time they’ve earned their warrior names.” Strikestar replies. She wraps her tail around her front paws.

“Has that much time passed already?”

“It’s gone by fast, hasn’t it?” Strikestar frowns, a worry coming to her mind. She looks away, towards Fennelpelt. “There’s just one thing I’m not so sure about.”

Fennelpelt hums in acknowledgement, glancing at his leader with a flick of his ear. “What’s that?” “I’m not so sure Palepaw has grown out of his childish tendencies. It’s going to get him in trouble one day. We both know that.” Strikestar meows.

“Then let it get him in trouble. He's never going to learn if we don’t let him make mistakes.” Fennelpelt says, turning his attention back to the lively apprentice.

“Those are some harsh words from you Fennelpelt.”

“I don’t think so. I just don’t want him to get hurt and the only way I can do that is letting him hurt himself first. He’ll learn after the first time that it’s something to avoid.”

“Wise words for such a young warrior.” Strikestar says, pushing herself to her feet.

“Eh, I try.” Fennelpelt shoots her a toothy grin. “Want me to give them a heads up?”

“No, let them be surprised. We need something to lift their spirits after what happened last moon.” Strikestar says.

“Right…”

With that, Strikestar turns and launches herself onto the top of the Mangrove Rock. Her actions alert the other cats and they all gather at its base before she can finish calling them together.

“It has come to my attention that there are some important matters to attend to. After our devastating loss last moon.” Strikestar glanced over at Shinepelt, whose head had dipped below his shoulders. “It’s now more important than ever that we have warriors to protect our clan. So, I would like to announce the names of two new warriors. Palepaw, Dawnpaw, please step forward.”

“What!” Palepaw exclaims, jumping to his feet. “Are you serious?”

Dawnpaw slaps his tail across Palepaw’s mouth, shooting him an unimpressed look.

Palepaw hunches his shoulders, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Strikestar purrs in amusement. She jumps off the rock and stands tall as the apprentices make their way up to her. Both of their chests were puffed up, pride written across their faces.

“Palepaw, Dawnpaw, do you promise to uphold the Warrior Code and protect Swampclan, even at the cost of your life?” Strikestar asks, glancing between the duo.

“I do.” Palepaw meows, voice strong and unwavering.

“I do.” Dawnpaw echoes, voice slightly quieter.

Strikestar turns her attention to Dawnpaw first. “Dawnpaw, I name you Dawnfrost in honor of your spirit.”

Dawnfrost dips his head, allowing Strikestar to press her nose to the top of it. He steps back, situating himself beside Fennelpelt.

“Palepaw,” Strikestar meows, “I name you Paletail in honor of your lightheartedness and resilience. Let it lead you well.”

Paletail copies Dawnfrost’s actions, letting Strikestar honor him, and goes to sit beside Dawnfrost.

“I now hail you as full warriors of Swampclan. You will sit vigil tonight and watch out for your clan as they sleep.”

“Dawnfrost! Paletail! Dawnfrost! Paletail!” The clan chants their names, making it echo around the clearing.

“Congrats you two.” Yarrowtuft meows, approaching the new warriors. “I’m excited to see what you do in the future.”

“Thanks Yarrowtuft!” Paletail meows, smiling wide. He shares a look with Dawnfrost, seeing the same look of pride and excitement looking back at him.

******

Paletail barely stifles a yawn, bringing up a paw to cover his mouth. He looks around the clearing, scanning for any possible dangers. He still wasn’t quite sure what kind of dangers there would be in a bog. The coyote he saw a couple months ago was the only predator he’s seen so far. He could only pray to Starclan that an alligator didn’t somehow make its way to camp. He’d never seen one, but stories from when he was a kit still haunted him.

“Hey Dawnfrost.” Paletail whispers, leaning closer to his friend.

“Shhh. We’re not supposed to be talking.” Dawnfrost whispers back, not taking his eyes off the camp entrance.

“I just got a quick question. Then I’ll be quiet.”

“Fine. What is it?”

“Have you seen an alligator yet?” Paletail asks.

“An alligator? Yea. I saw one when on patrol with Hyeridrizzle a few days ago.”

“Really!”

“Shhhh!”

“Sorry.” Paletail shrinks down. “Really?”

“Yea.” Dawnfrost finally looks away from the entrance to look at Paletail. He chuckles slightly at the awe covering his friend’s face.

“What did it look like? Was it as scary as the stories the elders used to tell us?” Paletail asks.

“Kind of. It didn’t do anything just laid in the shallows, but it’s mouth was open and I don’t think anyone’s getting out of those jaws.” Dawnfrost meows, shuddering as he recalls the teeth lining its gums.

“Was it big?”

“Yea, it was pretty big. Hyeridrizzle told me she’s seen bigger, though.”

“I bet if we manage to hunt and kill one, it’ll really impress Strikestar.” Paletail says, turning back to the clearing.

“Yea, if we don’t get killed first.” Dawnfrost huffs.

“If we stick together, we can handle anything.” Paletail meows, brushing his tail against Dawnfrost’s.

“Yea, maybe.” Dawnfrost smiles, curling his tail around the tip of Paletail’s tail.

******

“What is that place?” Yarrowtuft asks.

Fennelpelt turns with a confused hum, looking in the direction of the deputy. He spots the tops of large triangular shapes in the distance, broken up occasionally by a long pole.

“Oh. That’s the twoleg place on the edge of Chestnutclan’s border. It’s like a big camp for twolegs.” Fennelpelt replies, coming to stand next to Yarrowtuft. He tilts his head, ears pricked to listen to the odd sounds coming from it. “Do you think that’s where Hyeridrizzle used to live?”

“No, she told me she lived in a wooden den in the swamp. Those dens don’t look wooden.” Yarrowtuft says. She turns and continues on, wanting to put the strange place behind her.

“Hey, wait!” Fennelpelt calls, tail lashing behind him as an idea comes to mind. “What if we hunted in there?”

“What?” Yarrowtuft asks, bewildered.

Fennelpelt gives Yarrowtuft a bold look. “Let’s hunt in the twoleg place.”

“No. Absolutely not. Do you know how dangerous twolegs are?” Yarrowtuft meows, voice becoming stern.

“Of course I do!” Fennelpelt says, offended.

“Then don’t be mouse-brained. Now come on, let’s go.” Yarrowtuft turns, using her tail to beckon the young warrior.

“Why can’t we hunt there? What if we find something big?” Fennelpelt asks, not moving.

“Twolegs don’t have anything for us except cages and dogs.” Yarrowtuft retorts, giving Fennelpelt a hard look.

“You don’t know that. If we just give it a try then maybe-”

“I said no, Fennelpelt. Now come on!”

“But-”

“I can’t lose another warrior under my watch! Ok?” Yarrowtuft growls, spinning around to glare at Fennelpelt.

Fennelpelt recoils, fur fluffing up. He stares at Yarrowtuft, brow furrowing.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Let’s just keep going.” Yarrowtuft turns and pads away, tail tip flicking behind her.

Fennelpelt watches her for a couple heartbeats before finally pushing himself into motion. He quickly catches up to Yarrowtuft, only slowing to walk beside her. He glances at the red she-cat.

“It’s not your fault, you know. What happened to Lowback. There was nothing you could have done.” Fennelpelt says.

“I keep trying to tell myself that, but I can’t believe it.” Yarrowtuft sighs, tail drooping. “I just ran and left him there.”

“I didn’t know Lowback very well, but I do know that if we were alive, he wouldn’t blame you. Lowback was the kind of warrior that put others before himself. That’s why he was so great.” Fennelpelt says. He drapes his tail over the deputy’s shoulders.

“He might not have blamed me, but you can’t say that for everyone else. Shinepelt can’t even look at me.” Yarrowtuft meows.

“Shinepelt’s grieving. Just give him some time, ok?”

“Ok.”

‘Now come on. I promised Paletail I’d get him a mouse.”

Updated Refs

Sorry for the wait y'all, I've been a bit busy with life and all that. My friend wasn't available to proofread, so there might be some typos and stuff. Anyways, our boys are finally warriors!

[swampclanclangen]

Month 1 - Newleaf

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Lowback asks, glancing over his shoulder. He meets the eyes of the kittypet behind them and quickly looks away. “What are we going to tell Strikestar?”

“Exactly what the kittypet told us. She wants to join and become a warrior.” Yarrowtuft replies, not taking her eyes off the path in front of them. She ducks under a low hanging fern, spotting the dip of the grotto up ahead.

“We’re almost there.” Yarrowtuft looks over her shoulder, giving the kittypet a stern look. “Stay close to us and don’t talk to anyone. Got it?”

“Got it!” The kittypet jumps forward, shouldering her way between the warriors. “Oh, I’m just so excited! I’ve always wanted to be a warrior!”

“You have to be accepted by Strikestar first and there’s no guarantee of that.” Yarrowtuft meows. She hops down into the grotto and pads down the path, leaving Lowback to make sure the kittypet didn’t fall off. Yarrowtuft pushes through the bush and stops, waiting for the others.

“Wow! This is amazing!” The kittypet exclaims as she comes through the bush. She looks around the camp in awe, eyes wide and mouth open.

Yarrowtuft watches the kittypet for a moment, feeling a slight warmth fill her chest. It reminded her of the way kits looked on their first day out of the nursery. The kittypet suddenly looks at her and the black mask around her face briefly flickers to a dark red. Yarrowtuft flinches and looks away.

“Yarrowtuft, you ok?” Lowback’s voice makes her look back up. The younger warrior had a knowing look on his face.

“Fine. Now come on.” Yarrowtuft turns and stalks towards Strikestar’s den. She pushes her head through the sparse lichen hanging down in the entrance, spotting Strikestar sorting out some rocks.

“Strikestar? We need you for something.” Yarrowtuft meows, gaining the leader’s attention.

“What is it?” Strikestar asks, standing and padding over to her deputy.

Yarrowtuft pulls her head out and gestures to the kittypet standing next to a seated Lowback. “We found a kittypet by the border. Says she wants to join.”

“A kittypet?” Strikestar’s brow furrows, looking at the big gray tabby. She approaches the kittypet, tail swaying easily behind her.

“Strikestar, this is -”

“Hyeridrizzle! It’s nice to meet you!” The kittypet steps forward, butting her head against Strikestar’s shoulder in greeting.

“Hyeridrizzle? You told us your name was just Hyeri.” Lowback says, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Well, if I’m going to be a warrior then I need a warrior name don’t I?” Hyeridrizzle says, smiling at the tom.

“That’s not how it works.” Lowback starts but is cut off by Strikestar.

“Nevermind that. What made you want to be a warrior?” She asks the kittypet, settling into a seated position.

“I’ve been watching the clan cats for moons and always dreamed of being able to join you guys.” Hyeridrizzle explains, gesturing with a paw around the camp. “I noticed you guys a lot closer than usual and decided now was my chance.”

“You do understand what being a clancat means right? It’s not going to be easy. You’ll have to hunt for your own food, fight, you might even die.” Strikestar says, voice serious and face stern. “I can’t in good conscience let you make this decision without telling you the risks.”

The bright and playful look on Hyeridrizzle’s face shifts into a somber expression. “I enjoyed being a kittypet, I won’t deny that, but I’ve always felt like I’ve been missing something. Something that I couldn’t gain from merely exploring my garden.”

Strikestar nods. She stands, puffing out her chest.

“Hyeridrizzle, do you promise to put your clan before yourself and honor the warrior code?” Strikestar asks.

“I promise.” Hyeridrizzle replies, holding her head high.

“Then I welcome you as a warrior of Swampclan.”

“Thank you, Strikestar.” Hyeridrizzle dips her head to the older cat. She lifts it back up after a few heartbeats.

Strikestar nods before turning around and disappearing back into her den, making the lichen swish.

“Would you like us to introduce you to the others?” Lowback asks, looking at Yarrowtuft for confirmation that she wanted to help.

Yarrowtuft nods and steps forward. “The others can look scary at first, but they’re really kind.”

“I’d love that, thank you.” Hyeridrizzle says, smiling at the warriors. She looks around the camp, spotting only a few cats in the clearing.

“Well you already know Strikestar, our leader, and Yarrowtuft and I. Yarrowtuft is our deputy, which basically means she’s in charge when Strikestar can’t be.” Lowback says.

“What are you?” Hyeridrizzle asks.

“Hm? Oh, I’m just a regular warrior.” Lowback replies. “Now come on, let’s go see Shinepelt. He’s our medicine cat.”

Hyeridrizzle follows after the young tom, eyeing the small cave next to the entrance. A small white and black cat was spread out in front of it, head on his paws.

“Hey Shinepelt!” Lowback quickened his pace and stopped next to Shinepelt, putting his paws on his shoulders and shaking the medicine cat.

Shinepelt jerks away, rolling onto his back to get away from Lowback. He gives the warrior an annoyed look. “Rude.”

“We have someone to introduce.” Lowback flicks his tail behind him, pointing to Hyeridrizzle and Yarrowtuft as they come up. “This is Hyeridrizzle. She’s a new warrior.”

Shinepelt rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself up. He smiles at the older warrior. “Nice to meet you, I’m Shinepelt.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Hyeridrizzle dips her head.

“A head dip? That’s a first.” Shinepelt turns to Lowback. “You should try that sometime. Might make me like you more.”

“You love me.” Lowback smirks, lowering his head to Shinepelt’s height. The smaller tom leans forward and presses his muzzle against the warrior’s cheek.

“That’s up for debate.” Shinepelt pulls back. “Now go along, I got work to do.”

“Must be so tiring to lay around in the sun.” Lowback teases, but pulls away.

“Mouse-brain. I’ll come see you later.” Shinepelt purrs. He turns away and trots into his den, but not before flicking Lowback with the tip of his tail.

“Alright, come on casanova. We don’t have all day.” Yarrowtuft says, rolling her eyes fondly at the two.

Lowback chuckles and takes the lead. He pads across the clearing to the rest of his lounging clanmates.

“Hey Lowback!” Palepaw calls, waving his paw in the air.

“Hey guys. We want to introduce you to someone.” Lowback sits down, gesturing to the she-cats settling down beside him. “This is Hyeridrizzle. She’s a new warrior.”

“Hello!” Hyeridrizzle meows, dipping her head in greeting.

“Are you from one of the other clans?” Palepaw asks, tilting his head in confusion. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“No, I was a kittypet. I decided it wasn’t for me though, so I asked Strikestar if I could join.” Hyeridrizzle explains.

“And she said yes?”

“Well I wouldn’t be here if she said no.” Hyeridrizzle says, smiling.

“Oh, right.” Palepaw says sheepishly, scuffing his paw in the dirt.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Fennelpelt speaks up from his spot next to Palepaw. “I’m Fennelpelt.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

“Where’s Dawnpaw?” Yarrowtuft asks, looking around. She spots a small brown flash before Dawnpaw appears in front of Hyeridrizzle, a clump of yellow flowers in his jaws. The apprentice sets them down at the older warrior’s paws.

“These are for you. As a welcome gift.” Dawnpaw meows, shyly ducking his head.

“Thank you, Dawnpaw I presume.” Dawnpaw nods. “They’re lovely.” Hyeridrizzle leans down and grabs the flowers.

“And that is everyone.” Lowback says, looking over at Yarrowtuft. “I think we’re going to continue our patrol. I’ve noticed the prey pile looking pretty skimpy. Unacceptable this far into newleaf.”

“You just want an excuse to run around.” Yarrowtuft says, but pushes to her feet. She stretches out and starts walking to the camp entrance. “Well, let’s go before it gets dark out.”

Lowback hops to his feet, flicking his tail in goodbye, and quickly follows after Yarrowtuft. The two warriors make their way out of the camp and into the forest of their territory.

“Where do you want to hunt first?” Yarrowtuft asks, matching Lowback’s steady pace.

“I thought you said we were just running around.” Lowback meows, shooting Yarrowtuft a teasing look. He quickened his pace, jumping over a log. Lowback pulls ahead, laughing in glee. He had missed being able to just run like he did back in Patchouliclan. He finally skids to a stop in a clearing, watching in satisfaction as Yarrowtuft bursts through the undergrowth.

“You’re still the slowpoke you were in Patchouliclan.” He meows smugly.

“You have longer legs than me.” Yarrowtuft pants, tail dragging along the ground.

“Excuses, excuses.” Lowback scans the clearing, ears pricked. A faint crackling noise catches his attention. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Yarrowtuft looks where Lowback is, ears flicking around. She pads forward, eyes squinting to see if she could spot what was making the noise. Orange peeks through the leaves, growing closer.

“Fire. Fire!” Lowback grabs Yarrowtuft’s tail and yanks her back. Just as he did, flames shoot out from the undergrowth, licking greedily at the grass. Lowback flinches away from the heat, pulling Yarrowtuft further away.

“Lowback, run!” Yarrowtuft exclaims, pushing at the younger warrior’s chest.

“You first. I’m faster, I can get away.” Lowback shoves Yarrowtuft forward.

Yarrowtuft leaps away, paws hitting the ground just at the edge of the clearing. A pained yowl makes her stop, turning back around. Lowback was stumbling away from the fire, holding his injured back paw off the ground.

“Lowback!” Yarrowtuft moves to go to him.

“No! I’m fine, you go.” Lowback stumbles forward, hissing in pain. When Yarrowtuft doesn’t move he lets out a low growl. “Run!”

Yarrowtuft springs into action, paws hitting the ground in rapid succession. Fear fills her chest as the heat and roar of the fire draw closer. A sense of dread follows when she realizes she can’t hear a second set of pawsteps behind her. It felt like ages when Yarrowtuft finally stopped, the heat and crackling no longer there. She turns around, frantically scanning the underbrush, trying to find any chance of white or silver fur. Grief fills her heart as the minutes pass by. In one last ditch effort, Yarrowtuft takes a deep breath.

“Lowback!” Yarrowtuft waits for a reply, but, as she expected, none came. Finally, she turns, making her way back to camp, tail dragging a trail across the ground. The walk back was a daze, seeming to last for an eternity. She didn’t come back to her senses until the drop into the grotto stopped her. Yarrowtuft stares down into it, eyes dull. All the color from earlier seemed to have drained from the camp, leaving it washed out. Finally finding the energy to move again, she makes her way down the trail and through the bushes.

“Yarrowtuft?” Shinepelt appears in front of Yarrowtuft, startling the deputy. “Are you alright?”

“I…” Yarrowtuft trails off. “I need to talk to Strikestar.”

“She’s in her den. Where’s Lowback?” Shinepelt asks quickly, not taking a breath between sentences.

Yarrowtuft pads away without answering. She pushes through the lichen covering the entrance and pauses. How was she going to tell Strikestar this?

“Yarrowtuft?”

“Lowback’s dead.”

“What? Yarrowtuft what do you mean?” Strikestar hurries forward, staring down at her deputy in surprise. “What happened?”

“There was a fire. He…he didn’t make it out.” Yarrowtuft drops onto her haunches with a sigh. “What are we going to tell Shinepelt?”

Strikestar frowns, looking outside the den to the anxiously waiting tom across the clearing. “You let me deal with that. For now, go rest.”

Yarrowtuft nods. She heaves herself up and follows Strikestar out of the den. Yarrowtuft slowly makes her way to the warrior’s den. Just as she’s about to go in, an anguished wail echoes around the clearing. A fresh stab of grief hits her heart. Yarrowtuft pushes into the den and collapses in her nest. She covers her ears with her paws to block out the cries coming from outside and closes her eyes.

******

Shinepelt sorts through his storage of herbs, ears pricked to hear the singing of birds outside the den. He raises his head, eyes squinting at the light shining through the entrance. It had been a couple of weeks since Lowback passed. Shinepelt refused to leave his den, instead opting to stay in the dark of his cave. Focusing back on the herbs before him, he notices how the moss crinkled and broke apart in his paw. Sighing, Shinepelt pushes himself to his feet. He couldn’t let grief stop him from his duties as a medicine cat.

He steps out of his den, ignoring the way the light hurt his eyes. Shinepelt scans the clearing, still expecting to see the white and silver pelt of Lowback amongst his clanmates. Instead, he’s greeted with the sight of a dark gray tabby walking up to him. He raises his head, eyes narrowing as he tries to recall the newcomer’s name.

“Hyeridrizzle, right?” Shinepelt asks.

“Yea. Do you need any help?” The she-cat asks, eyes gentle, but not pitying. Shinepelt appreciated that.

“Yes, actually. Do you mind coming with me to find more moss? Mine has become old.” Shinepelt replies.

“Of course. I’m ready when you are.”

“Let’s go, then.” Shinepelt walks away, heading to the camp entrance. Once out, he makes his way to the best moss patch he knows. Hyeridrizzle quietly follows behind him. After a few minutes of walking, Shinepelt stops in front of a thoroughly picked-through moss patch.

“It looks like some other animals got here before we did. I’ll have to come back another time.” Shinepelt sighs.

“I’ll come with you when you do.” Hyeridrizzle says, stopping next to Shinepelt.

“Thank you, Hyeridrizzle.”

“No problem.”

******

Palepaw trots after Fennelpelt, tail swishing happily behind him.

“Did your old mentor ever teach you how to climb trees?” Fennelpelt asks, looking over his shoulder.

“He told me about it, but we never actually went out to climb.” Palepaw replies. He pulls up beside Fennelpelt. “Is that what we’re doing today?”

“Yep! Don’t worry, though, we’ll start off small. Just a little mangrove. They have lots of places to put your paws.” Fennelpelt stops, looking up at the mangrove in front of them.

Palepaw follows his gaze, eyes widening.

“Now what you want to do is-Palepaw!” Fennelpelt jumps forward to grab the apprentice but just misses him as he scampers up the tree.

Palepaw propels himself up, easily finding pawholds in the twisted bark of the tree. He hops to a branch, digging his claws in, and looks out over the territory.

“Everything looks so small from up here. I can almost see camp!” Palepaw exclaims, stretching up on his tiptoes.

“Careful Palepaw! It’s dangerous up there.” Fennelpelt calls from below, voice slightly exacerbated.

“It’s not that ba-ah!” Palepaw scrambles to the trunk, fear striking his chest as he looks down. Fennelpelt was small under him. Everything was small under him. “H-How do I get down?” “If you had waited. I would have told you  before you went up there.” Fennelpelt says, sitting down.

“Well can’t you tell me now?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Might let you figure it out.”

“Fennelpelt, please! I’m gonna fall.” Palepaw digs his claws deeper into the bark.

“You’re not going to fall.” Fennelpelt rolls his eyes. “Just come down the same way you went up.”

“How do I do that?”

“Face the tree and slowly lower yourself down. I’ll be right here to catch you if you fall.” Fennelpelt stretches up on his hind legs and puts his front paws on the tree.

“You just said I wouldn’t fall!”

“I’ll make sure you fall if you don’t start making your way down.”

“Fine! I’m coming.” Palepaw pushes himself away from the trunk, looking down.

“Don’t look down. That’ll make it worse.”

Palepaw turns his attention back to the tree. Slowly, he lowers himself down, taking extra care to put his paws in each crevice he could. After a few moments, he looks down. Relief fills his chest when Fennelpelt comes into view just under him. Suddenly, a mischievous idea comes to mind.

“Don’t you dare.” Fennelpelt says, eyes narrowing.

“I didn’t do anything.” Palepaw says, looking away. He pulls one of his paws out of a crevice.

“But you want to do it.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Palepaw pulls another paw out. He starts to tip backwards.

“Palepaw!” Fennelpelt gasps as a heavy body hits him, bringing him to sprawl on the ground. Laughter erupts above him and he can’t help the grin from coming across his face.

“Palepaw.”

“Yes?”

“One.”

“One? What do you mean by one?”

“Two.”

“Wait. Fennelpelt, no.” Palepaw jumps to his feet, slowly backing away. He watches Fennelpelt climb to his paws and turn to him. “There I got off. Everything’s fine.”

“Three.” Fennelpelt lunges forward.

Palepaw yowls and scrambles away, Fennelpelt quick to follow him, laughing.

Updated Ref Sheets

Authors Note

Lowback quickly became one of my favorite cats and I find it very cruel that I could only have him for two moons. He died so young too, he had so much potential left