Morningspot and Perchpaw go out on patrol. All of a sudden, they hear a bone chilling sound. It was hoarse, loud and frantic. It stopped, then began again, on repeat. It sounded like Talontooth.
The two cats rushed towards the noise, and out near the border they saw...Talontooth? Morningspot freezes in fear. As Perchpaw sees her Clanmate, she rushes down the hill, saying she'll help. Morningspot is frozen in place before she finally manages to burst out a warning found too late: "Perchpaw, no! That's not him!" [SKILL REVEAL: FORMIDABLE FIGHTER]
(Morningspot, warrior, female, 14 moons. Nervous.)
(Perchpaw, apprentice, female, 7 moons. Adventurous)
(A Fake Cat. Burn the bodies, lest they stand up again.)
---
Morningspot's body was burning and her lungs were heaving. She couldn't stop. She couldn't, couldn't, couldn't. Pain surged whenever she landed on her front right paw. Her legs were stained black and red. She felt a mixture of saliva and viscera roll down her chin as she panted; the weight of Perchpaw on her back hindering her sprint. The only thing that prevented her from falling apart was Perchpaw's faint breathing - a strangled snore against the apprentice's now-broken jaw and lolling tongue.
That was not Talontooth.
Adrenaline and pure terror drove her back to safety. Her body knew its way to camp without looking.
The wet, muddy ground transformed into a padded, clear path. She heard the morning bustle of cats.
Then she heard screaming.
Someone had jumped down to help her back into camp. Other cats stirred into action. Terror lit the clan like cloud-parted sunshine.
Perchpaw needed help. She needed help. That's all she could think.
"Help," Morningspot's voice caught in her throat, ragged. "She needs help."
Morningspot heard a despairing, anguished wail.
Olive.
She heard Branchpaw calling her sister's name in desperation.
Redstar barked orders. Words fell around her in disjointed, horrified cacophony. Her vision was crystal clear, and completely blind. Her body was stretched across time and crushed into a singular point.
"Foxdung, foxdung, oh - Morningspot, give her here - "
"M-Mama?"
"Airkit, come here - "
"That's Woodcrawler blood, no mistaking it."
"Morningspot, are you injured? What happened?"
"Morningspot?"
The molly couldn't feel her legs. Her heart was thundering yet silent.
"Morningspot, is it following you?"
She remembered the feeling of her claws raking against the once-stomach of a cat she knew. She remembered the sensation of dry fur, then tissue-thin flesh, and then wet viscera drenched in mud.
The arteries were roots.
"No," her voice said feebly. "No. He's gone."
"He?....Oh…oh no, Morningspot, no, don't tell me…oh no…"
"...M-Morningspot…please, very quickly, are you hurt?"
Her right paw throbbed.
She could barely bring herself to shake her head. Who was asking? Who was speaking to her? Where was she?
Her adrenaline was absorbed into the wet grass. Her legs trembled. Her paws were red and black.
The memory of Talonkit's blue eyes were looking up at her in mirth as he roughhoused and pinned her down, declaring himself the winner.
The memory of Talonpaw looking stunned, then ecstatic as she successfully defeated him in training.
Talontooth laughing and jokingly rising up on his hind legs as though he was going to obnoxiously tackle her again like in their youth.
Her claws reached out to gouge his exposed stomach. Small vines thrashed and released Perchpaw, startled.
His eyes were holes. Roots writhed under the skin of his jaw. The muscles contorted and convulsed like tangled strings failing to be pulled by its puppeteer.
That was not Talontooth.
Morningspot sank to the floor. Her claws were unsheathed as she started hyperventilating. She raked her paws over her face. Mud and blood leaked down her forehead. She heard voices. Tom. Molly. Kit. Repeating her name. Morning. Morning. Morning.
The image of that thing was imprinted in her memory. Stiff, unnatural, apathetic to who it once was. It wore his skin.
It didn't even turn towards them when they saw him. He just kept screaming into nothing.
"HELP! HELP ME! SOMEBODY! HEEEEELP! SOMEBODY!"
The pain and terror in his voice did not match how he stood wooden and unflinching. His jaw moved mechanically. Like the camp gate opening and shutting under the rope pulleys.
That was not Talontooth.
She howled as every single memory she held of her best friend was tainted by those black eyes. His eyes were blue. His eyes were blue. All of her memories left them with gaping holes.
That was not Talontooth. That was NOT Talontooth.
She couldn't hear her thoughts above the wailing of her own screams.
---
Morningspot can't stop screaming. By the time she does, everyone is taught - or reminded - of the nightmare that are Fake Cats. Morningspot has nightmares for several days.
cat speedrun!!! i did this super quick because im about to go on vacation weeeee (by the time that this is posted ill actually be coming back!!) anyways i love you peachkit
“It’s our second day as apprentices!” Firepaw meowed to his siblings with a happy wave of his tail. “Gotta be bright-eyed and early!”
Airpaw’s fur slowly smoothed out with a blink as he realized they weren’t under attack. “Couldn’t we be bright-eyed and late?” the tomcat whined. “I don’t think Thrushpelt will mind.”
- Burning Thistles, Chapter 14: Lightningpaw Does A Sneaky (Not Really. She Got Caught.)
I swear when I reread, I keep finding these little gems of Fire and Air. Why are they suddenly becoming my favorite FireSib duo?! XD
Airkit wants to be helpful. He brings some flowers back to the medicine den. Shiverstep notices that they're forget-me-nots. Nothing helpful medicinally, but she thanks him for being so kind.
Owlkit tries to get Barleywave's attention, but he freezes up and doesn't say anything. Owlkit pouts back to the nursery, and says something rude. Barleywave bristles in both shame and frustration.
Daffodilkit talks to Cloudthunder, asking why she's in the nursery - she doesn't look like she's nursing. Cloudthunder says she's the mother of Deerkit, Airkit and Cottonkit. They're much older than Daffodilkit, so they don't need milk anymore. Daffodilkit is bewildered that she won't need milk! She's impressed by how much Cloudthunder knows.
Hopechase confronts Riversnow and her refusal to talk to Barleywave - at least to establish co-parenting in any regard. Riversnow is still sticking by her story that he is not the sire, which Hopechase calls foxdung on.
Redstar is starting to go on nightly patrols again to try and feed the woods. She is getting progressively more exhausted from lack of sleep. Olive tries to advise her against pushing herself too hard, but to no avail. Olive finds the way Redstar acts to be progressively more uncomfortable.
Windfur invites Morningspot on patrol with him, looking to calm her down and provide some distraction. Morningspot asks him about the nature of StarClan, and Windfur provides her with an explanation that reduces her stress.
Windfur had just finished entertaining her kits by answering their questions in his trademark complete sincerity. Airkit had asked if all animals were made of fur, and before Cottonkit could make some retort - likely about how birds exist - Windfur said that all animals had some kind of skin, and from there, different protection would grow, like fur or feathers. So, technically, every animal was made of skin, including themselves.
Ten minutes later, Deerkit bounced into the nursery where Daffodilkit and Owlkit were play-fighting and said with loud enthusiasm: "HEY! DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU'RE MADE OF SKIN?"
Owlkit stumbled to her feet with her back arched. Daffodilkit's fur puffed out and stared at Deerkit with wide, shocked eyes, before bursting into a crying mew.
Deerkit panicked and tried to hush her. Cottonkit criticized her sister for yelling, at equally loud of a volume. Owlkit bit her in response. Now Cottonkit was also screaming. Airkit sank to the floor and covered his ears, whining loudly to "please stoooooop!".
Cloudthunder wanted to nap in the sun for thirty minutes. Just thirty minutes. Couldn't even do that without something happening. She groaned as she forced herself out of her sunning spot and towards the nursery.
She loved her children, she really did, she wouldn't trade them for the world. But she was exhausted and just wanted her kits to behave quietly for once. It didn't help that Riversnow dashed from the medicine den to the nursery before her, immediately starting to coo over her two kits.
"It's okay, it's okay, shh, shh, you're okay - "
Cloudthunder had appeared at the mouth of the nursery when she saw Riversnow throw a furious glare at the three older kits.
"Don't cause trouble!" she hissed.
"Hey, sorry Riversnow. I'll handle it," Cloudthunder intercepted between the new queen and her own kits.
"They're four moons old! Old enough to know better," Riversnow retorted, her cyan gaze was piercing.
"I know. They know. I'll handle it," Cloudthunder sighed as she immediately started pawing her kits out of the nursery. "Go now. I'll make you apologize to Riversnow and her kits when you've all quieted down."
"B-But - " Deerkit started, and was shut down by Cloudthunder's gaze.
"I didn't even do anything…" Airkit mewed pathetically.
"Out, please," the white and gray molly hissed. She only needed to tell them once, thankfully, before they scattered outside. Cloudthunder shot an apologetic glance at the new queen again before padding away. She watched as her kits had already bolted in the medicine den and started pestering Shiverstep for a story.
Cloudthunder stared at the sky in exhaustion. She watched as the clouds gently passed above, and listened as the songs of cardinals and chickadees filled her ears. She took a deep breath, then exhaled. Her heart throbbed with longing. Redstar had cleared her for basic patrols as long as someone was with her, but what she really wanted was to go on an adventure again. She loved being a mother, but she didn't love being a queen. She wanted to stretch her legs, explore for hours and gather any possible berries or spices she could throw over a meal. She wanted a taste of freedom again.
"Beautiful day, no?"
Cloudthunder jumped as Tree's voice piped up from next to her. She forcibly relaxed and gave a small smile, her tail flicking. "Indeed it is," she said.
Tree smiled and gave a knowing purr, glancing at the entrance of the now-noisy medicine den. "Busy, I take it?"
"Unfortunately," Cloudthunder sighed. The molly glanced at the camp gates longingly. "It is what it is, I suppose."
Tree said nothing in response. However, their tail twitched pensively. Then, it seemed like they made a decision. "Cloudthunder, could you wait here for just a moment?"
The grey and white molly tilted her head at the cat, puzzled. "...Um, okay?"
Tree padded into the medicine den before she could ask why. But, it must be for a reason. Cloudthunder's ear twitched, and she licked her paw before grooming herself.
Tree then left the medicine den and leapt onto the High Rock, interrupting a meeting between Redstar, Iciclepool and Hopechase. After a few minutes, Tree leapt down from the rock and approached Cloudthunder again, tail raised and green eyes sparking.
"That was easier than expected. You have very considerate Clanmates," Tree meowed, whiskers twitching. "Would you like to go on patrol?"
Cloudthunder perked up, her pupils dilated, but she stiffened with apprehension. "...Define 'patrol'," Cloudthunder asked.
"Well…" Tree suppressed a mrrow of amusement. "I pointed out that blueberries may have grown out by this time in summer - er, greenleaf. But…"
"They're found closer to the marshes," Cloudthunder breathed, feeling a sudden weight lift off her shoulders, her paws rapidly carrying themselves into the warrior den, where she rummaged through her small stash corner and yanked out a small leather bag she had painstakingly made over a year ago.
Tree purred in amusement as they followed after them. "Hey, hey, but you haven't heard the condition yet," they said.
Cloudthunder frowned, knowing Redstar didn't want her to go alone. Then, she turned to Tree and asked, "Care to join me?"
Now it was Tree's turn to seem surprised, but only briefly, their tail twitching. "Oh. Well, I suppose that settles it," they laughed.
Cloudthunder let out a breath and for a brief moment, she stared at the medicine cat den. A brief pang of guilt entered her heart, before she saw Tree's brown and golden tail swish in front of her vision.
"They'll be alright, promise," Tree said with a chuckle. "Shiverstep's telling them the epic of the Fire that Saved the Clans."
"Oh, StarClan, that's a long one," Cloudthunder said with a laugh. "Are you sure they'll be able to pay attention for long enough?"
"And if they don't, so what? I'm sure the kits can find something to do. Your restlessness is not unnoticed by your friends, and you deserve to have some sense of normalcy," Tree replied.
Cloudthunder considered these words. She wasn't sure if she was just stressed or overly touched, but she felt her heart pang and she had to bite down the sudden urge to cry.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before exhaling. Tree was right. She loved her kits. But she also wanted to feel like herself again. She felt like a bird trapped in a cage, and she wanted to spread her wings again.
When she opened her eyes again, she looked at Tree with deep gratitude. "Thank you," she meowed.
"Not a problem. Now, shall we get going?"
"Yes, please." Cloudthunder trotted towards the gate with her tail held high and her eyes sparkling with wonder. She was going to collect so many blueberries. She was going to hear tree frogs and toads and blue jays and mallards, and it was going to be beautiful.
Hopechase and Iciclepool have been acting sickeningly lovey-dovey all day, even with Hopechase's injury. Redstar teases them a little. She's happy for her friends. The grief of losing Talontooth lessens a little for her.
Iciclepool and Morningspot go out near the border, mostly to try and find any remaining signs of the Fake Cat that Perchpaw was attacked by. Instead, they find a body of a young cat. Icicle feels somber - but when she goes to lift it, she's shocked when it groans in pain. They're alive! Morningspot is agitated, eager to bring them to Windfur, now.
(Morningspot, warrior, female, 15 moons. Nervous.)
(Iciclepool, deputy, female, 68 moons. Ambitious.)
(???, male, loner.)
Perchpaw actively avoids talking to Morningspot. She just doesn't trust her. She especially does not want to talk about what happened the day she saw the Fake Cat, and shuts down whenever someone asks. At least Branchpaw doesn't pester her.
Perchpaw wished she had died. Or, at least, that's what she would say to herself while sleep deprived, in pain, and unable to swallow more than pulp and water. In moments of clarity surrounded by her mother and her sister, she felt a pang of guilt at the idea of them mourning at a funeral pyre, like they did for Bearkit.
No…no, she didn't want to die. Not really.
She just wanted to be normal again, and she hated all the things that made her feel not normal.
She didn't want to talk about the Fake Cat. Hopechase had approached her and apologized with deep sorrow for not teaching her about them sooner. Redstar tried gently asking if she wanted to talk about it. Even her mother said that she'd be a listening ear. Perchpaw pretended to not be able to talk.
Branchpaw seemed to be the only one who understood her, saying nothing about the Fake Cat, but telling her about the news of camp.
"Um…Redstar and Hopechase said that they're going to try hosting something called the First Bloom. Remember the Gathering in leaf-fall? Well, apparently it's a lot like this, but for newleaf instead. Apparently there's games and stuff involved?" Branchpaw's tail twitched with subdued optimism. "I know you're not feeling too great, but they mentioned that flowers are an important part of it. You like flowers and stuff, right?"
Branchpaw made a somewhat of a face as she said this - Branchpaw was never into things that Perchpaw felt were pretty, and when they were kits, she poked fun at her for it. Seeing her now put in effort to be nice about the things she liked was like watching Redstar attempting small-talk. Perchpaw wanted to let out a chuckle, but it sounded more like a snorted chuff. The sound felt ugly to her. She stared at the floor.
"Well, Morningspot and Iciclepool are out of camp right now - I think they're checking near the border for - er - well, I assume flowers? I dunno, I didn't ask," Branchpaw shrugged.
Perchpaw felt a twitch of anger surge through her chest. She shifted uncomfortably and looked away from her sister. If Branchpaw had noticed, she likely chose not to comment on it. Branchpaw had gotten to her feet.
"I'll ask Redstar if you could help with making decorations! Like, if your paws are fine, why not, right? I'll be back!"
Perchpaw watched as Branchpaw darted past the fern curtains that blocked the medicine den. It was a strange feeling, watching the world through a partial veil. In her memories, she could only ever recall fallen leaves and a layer of snow surrounding the outside of the carved out den. But now, she could barely see what was happening outside.
And it made her feel isolated. Different. Ignored and she hated it.
Perchpaw's claws ripped up bits of her bedding as she stared at the fern curtains. A fire of anger surged in her heart.
She was trying to help.
Talontooth was a good cat. He was nice to her and Branchpaw. He taught them how to do the hunting crouch. He was one of the only adults to tell stories of what was outside camp with some amount of hope. Yeah, like all adults, he warned them about Tendrils, and under whispered tones, he described Nature's Mockery, and what a Woodcrawler might look like. But he didn't only tell fake stories like Windfur and Tree, or stories of things that happened a long time ago like Redstar. He told them about stuff outside the territory - like a big mountain that stood across a vast lake, and the strange, angular dens of Twolegs that jutted from the treelines. He wasn't their friend, but he was a good cat who made her look forward to going out there, beyond the camp walls.
She felt gutted when the adults told her that he was gone, and petrified when she heard his voice calling for help.
Why didn't any of them talk about those?
All she saw was Talontooth seemingly alive, calling for help, in pain. She didn't see a monster. She saw a Clanmate who was hurt, maybe sick, maybe REALLY in trouble. She remembered staring at Morningspot, waiting for her to lead their patrol, tell her what to do, do something to indicate what they should be doing.
She just froze and did nothing.
Morningspot was the patrol leader. Perchpaw always thought that Morningspot was a scaredy-cat, even as an apprentice. But people still liked her and consoled her and for a short time, it seemed like even her mom talked to Morningpaw more than she did with her and Branchkit at the time. So when she was still scared as an adult, refusing to actually lead, what else was Perchpaw supposed to feel? Talontooth was screaming for help. Why did Morningspot only do something when Perchpaw was pinned down by the thing, sharp branches jutting out from its feet, writhing towards her mouth -
In her distressed turbulence, Perchpaw's tongue passed over one of her teeth. She bit back a hiss as she felt something cut at her. Dismayed, she ran it over gently again.
Her tooth was chipped.
Perchpaw wanted to yowl. She physically couldn't with her brace around her neck and jaw. She raked her claws on the cold dirt, her tail thrashing. She couldn't even bury her head in her bedding without destroying her brace.
Day after day, she was reminded of one more thing that made her abnormal and broken. That made her damaged, ugly.
She hated that she felt that way, but she couldn't help it. She wanted to be loved and she felt like she was pitied. The only time she felt like someone really saw her for her was when Riversnow approached her during leafbare, and complimented her fur and asked her about the little snow-cat she made. Sure, everyone was nice to her and Branchpaw, but it was always her AND Branchpaw. She never felt like she stood out, or caught anyone's attention, and now that she was like this, she felt like no one would genuinely want to be with a cat with a messed up jaw, chipped teeth and a stupid brace.
She felt ugly, pathetic, and useless.
Why didn't they tell her about Fake Cats? Why didn't Morningspot do something? Why did she freeze like a stupid doe on a thunderpath and only moved when Perchpaw was already -
Her thread of hatred tangled as noise kicked up outside. She heard shouting, then the stern voices of cats. She heard Iciclepool and Redstar talking firmly to one another, and the sound of pawsteps rapidly approaching the medicine den.
Perchpaw scrambled, mortified at the idea of being seen like this. She scrambled to cover her ripped up bedding with her body, trying to pretend like she was asleep. She saw the shadows of Iciclepool and…ugh, Morningspot. As they walked into the medicine den, Perchpaw faked having just woken up.
Her eyes widened. She didn't expect an unknown cat to be draped over Iciclepool's back.
"Morningspot, can you clear the bedding across from Perchpaw?" Iciclepool asked. Morningspot did what was asked. Perchpaw pretended not to be curious, but failed as she watched the two mollies gently lower the cat onto bedding. He was a black tabby, very skinny, and unconscious.
"D-Did Redstar say when they'd be back? A few minutes? An hour? What if - "
"Morningspot," Iciclepool placed her tail on the young warrior's shoulder. "Breathe. Windfur and Shiverpaw should be back from their patrol soon."
"B-But what if - "
Perchpaw immediately scowled and looked away, tuning out the conversation. Right now, the last thing she wanted to hear was Morningspot's panicking.
A small sliver of her conscience tried to coax her into having compassion. It was overruled by the throbbing pain in her jaw, her chipped tooth, her anger, and the memory of the adult she turned to choosing to do nothing until it was too late.
Time moved around Perchpaw as cats entered and left the medicine den repeatedly. She knew Shiverpaw and Windfur returned from their patrol, and to her annoyance, she knew Morningspot tried to talk to her - which she pointedly ignored. Shiverpaw and Windfur poked and prodded at her brace after they had finished rummaging over the stranger that was now in the medicine den. Branchpaw had come back to visit her once again, telling her optimistically about the possibility of learning how to do flower crowns. Perchpaw faked enthusiasm with a slow blink, but otherwise, she didn't say anything.
By the time everyone had finally left the stupid den, Perchpaw's eyes reluctantly fell onto the only person remaining.
Her throat tightened as she realized what she was looking at.
The cat was a young tom - close to her age. And just like her, his head was wrapped in a brace meant to secure a broken jaw.
Perchpaw blinked. She watched the tom's faint breathing. Every once in a while, he made a whine in protest.
Perchpaw brought her own paw to the side of her face, feeling the ragged brace. For a moment, she became painfully aware of its existence, and how it pressed against her skin.
...Would he, too, hate this as much as she did?
Perchpaw sighed, allowing the crushing anger and sorrow exhale from her system before turning away and staring at a wall again.
She hadn't expected the tom across from her to whine in his unconscious sleep, and whimper something that barely took coherent shape behind his crooked jaw. Perchpaw's ears twitched and strained to put his words together. Finally, she realized he was repeating a single word over and over.
"Bracken…"
---
When the young stranger wakes up, he's confirmed to have a broken jaw. He is dazed and dehydrated, calling for the name "Bracken". Windfur recognizes it - this must be the littermate Bracken was searching for! After a few days of care and speaking with members of the Clan, he is quite enamoured, and the young cat agrees to join the Clan. His name is Rift, and he takes on the name Riftpaw.
The First Bloom festival goes without a hitch. Cats are much happier watching Cloudthunder's kits enjoy games, collect flowers, and even the adult cats have fun playing a game of pick-up sticks - trying to pull as many sticks from a pile of them without causing the pile to topple over. It's very enjoyable, and reduces the Clan's overall stress.
Cottonkit, Airkit and Deerkit made flower crowns during the First Bloom festival! Cottonkit is so enamoured by the gorse flowers that she decides to permanently wear some. She asks Perchpaw if she thinks it's cool, and is giddy when Perchpaw approves.
To everyone's shock, Talontooth goes missing. They call out to him in the early morning - but he's gone. Iciclepool is particularly upset about this, having mentored the warrior. She thought that after years of seeing this process, she would get used to it. She doesn't. She barely avoids prolonged grief with the help of Hopechase.
Iciclepool thought she was free from this. When Lakestar was gone, she thought for once, just once, perhaps things would be okay. Deep in her heart, she knew that wasn't true. She knew the law of the woods. She knew that she would have to see adult cats die again.
When Talontooth wasn't found in camp the night Windfur and Shiverpaw returned from the Half-Moon Dome, when the sun rose in the morning and he hadn't returned, the Clan had to accept that he was gone.
She thought that after years of seeing that process, she would be used to it. She wasn't.
She taught Talontooth everything she knew to stay alive. She thought that she had done everything to make sure that he would live a long life. Grow strong, mentor another cat, perhaps have a family of his own, if he was inclined to it.
Why? Why him? Out of all the cats -
Iciclepool could barely say anything at his funeral rites. The only thing she could say was a pitiful apology. She felt everyone's eyes on her pelt and it hurt.
She buried herself in her nest, begging for roots to rise from the earth and swallow her too. Iciclepool denied his death. Raged against StarClan and the woods. Considered if maybe he had simply run away to the Twoleg cabins. Wallowed in despair. Repeat.
She could barely feel the gentle paw pressed against her back.
"...Icicle?"
Hopechase's gentle voice felt like daggers on her soul.
"...Hey." A dark pelt padded in front of her field of vision. Iciclepool continued to stare into space, even as Hopechase's blue eyes filled her vision. The dark molly said nothing as she simply stared into Iciclepool's eyes.
"...I'm sorry, Icicle. I know he meant a lot to you."
The white deputy felt the knife twist. She closed her eyes as she felt the bile rise in her throat. She said nothing.
Hopechase wordlessly rested her chin on Iciclepool's head, then began grooming her.
"Hope, please."
"Please what?"
"Please leave me alone."
"I will. But you haven't groomed yourself in two days. When you feel the strength to stand again, being mat-free will help."
"I don't…" Iciclepool started her retort, then trailed off defeatedly. There was no point. Arguing with Hopechase was an exercise in futility. She didn't argue back. She only listened, and did what she believed to be right. So, Iciclepool let her. She closed her eyes and allowed her to groom her and remove any compacting hair.
For a moment, she thought of one of the last times she spent with Cliffstep. She grieved. She wailed as all of her kits were gone, again. The woods, Lakestar - took everything from her. She couldn't hear herself over the voice of her own cries. And there lay Cliffstep next to her. Grooming her. Removing her mats. His work was gentle, but his muscles were tense the entire time, his face chiseled with burning intensity. He barely spoke for the next week. His ice blue eyes were soft around his loved ones. They sharpened with the ferocity of a lynx the very moment Lakestar or Chicoryglint crossed his path - cold and haunting.
He loved his family, so much. He loved her. He would've loved Talontooth. He would've -
Iciclepool's face curled into a snarl as she buried her face into Hopechase and wept.
She doesn't know how much time had passed until she found her emotions spiralling back down, going numb. The warm newleaf sun had started melting the snow. The sound of water dripping off the branches and the den walls outside played a soft melody.
"Iciclepool." Hopechase's voice was filled with love. "I'm going to help set patrols for you. Alright?"
Iciclepool just nodded. Hopechase blinked slowly, a passing thought crossing her gaze. Her tail tapped the floor pensively. Finally, it seemed like she made a choice, and her eyes softened.
"I love you, Iciclepool."
The white molly froze for a moment. She opened her eyes again, her copper gaze layered with an unknown feeling. Hopechase continued with the wisdom of many lives.
"I know that you know. My feelings aren't hidden. I know that right now, and maybe for a little while, the world will feel cruel, and empty. And that's alright. But I need you to know that you are loved." Hopechase pressed her nose against Iciclepool's forehead. "You still have family. You still have friends. And while today may be one of the worst days you will ever have, I am here to give you a groom, and take your tasks, and remind you that today, your world has not ended."
Iciclepool's voice was stuck in her throat as her eyes widened. She felt her pelt turn hot in shame and unbridled emotion, unable to mantle any thoughts to her mind.
Hopechase pulled back, and gave her a look that she had only seen from one other cat before in her life. "Please, grieve and pray to Cliffstep and Talontooth. Their eyes are watching you from StarClan. They love you, so much."
Iciclepool bit back a cry.
"And when you feel like you can laugh again," Hopechase continued. "Then you can tell me how you feel. Whichever way you do, I will still be your friend. And you will still be a lovely deputy," Hopechase let out a final purr of comfort before steadily padding outside the den.
Iciclepool, for the first time since she sat in her den, turned to watch Hopechase leave, and looked outside the warrior's den. For a moment, her mind was a storm of emotion.
Hopechase…really felt that way? And she would wait? Even seeing her as a useless heap of a deputy, weeping again at another lost child - is this really what she wanted?
And…did Iciclepool want her? Is that something her grief would even permit her to think about?
Talontooth wanted life as well. But you are here. And he is not.
Her guilt ravished whatever brief embers of contentment lit in her heart. She felt numb again.
And yet, she couldn't bring herself to turn back to face the wall again. Her eyes were frozen on the movement of the outside world - the one Hopechase wandered freely within.
For a moment, she watched. Her clanmates were still reeling from the hurt. Riversnow sat in the sun, her eyes following Cloudthunder's kits gently. Windfur approached her glumly, and said something to her. After a few moments of no movement, Riversnow nodded without looking up at him. Windfur seemed surprised, but grateful as he gave her an herb Iciclepool knew well - borage.
Morningspot stared at the cooking fire. Her eyes were void of meaning, as though her spirit was gone and her body was piloted by something else. Olive's yellowcough was recovering steadily - almost completely gone. The older molly wordlessly sat next to the younger, staring at the fire with her. It conveyed support that didn't need words.
And…under the shadow of the apprentice den was Shiverpaw. Her kit. Her eyes were empty. Windfur said that after their visit to the Dome, she was frantic. Dreading. She said something horrible was going to happen, and she didn't know what. Just that she was so, so afraid.
Iciclepool felt a rock in her belly. Her grief drowned under the waves of protectiveness and fear.
You still have family. You still have friends.
Hopechase's words echoed in her thoughts. She weakly pushed herself to her feet, and hissed as she stumbled. Her muscles wobbled in complaint.
How long…how long had she ignored Shiverpaw in her grief?
Her kit. Oh, her poor kit.
Iciclepool felt like the sun beaming at her pelt threatened to expose her suffering to the world. That…that didn't matter right now. She slowly padded towards her daughter. Her mind could only ever picture her as the poor kitten she found, shivering in a bush on a cool newleaf day. But her child was almost all grown up. A year old. Her child was here.
Shiverpaw heard Iciclepool's pawsteps, and her body tensed and straightened. Her cobalt blue eyes were wide, as though spooked by her mother's sudden appearance.
"O-Oh. Mom. I'm sorry, I…I was going to check on you," Shiverpaw stammered, her voice dry. "Did, um…I…I could give you a poppy seed, if that'll help with…"
Iciclepool said nothing. She wordlessly sat next to her child, her pelt brushing against hers. Shiverpaw looked at her with wide, sleep-deprived eyes.
The deputy gently brushed her tail against her daughter's back.
"...Speak to me, Shiver."
Shiverpaw slowly shook her head, until her expression broke and she buried her head into her mother's shoulder. She mewled pathetically.
"It's my fault. It's all my fault. All of it. All of it, all of it," she said between sobs.
"No, honey. No," Iciclepool said with a comforting purr rising in her throat. "Whatever StarClan said, a warning can come too late. You are not responsible for this."
"But I am. And it is. I should've never - I shouldn't have - " Shiverpaw continued to stumble before being reduced to a grief-stricken mess. Whatever words her daughter wanted to say, they couldn't find their perch.
So, she didn't push her. She decided to just be there for her daughter. She, too, had lost a friend.
---
Redstar and Hopechase cooperate to reinstate a past ForestClan festival - The First Bloom, which would occur in the next moon. Despite Redstar's grief, she tells herself that this will be good for the Clan. First Bloom focused on games, decorating the camp with local early-weeds and quick-growing plants, and paying respects to the prey they hunt.
Windfur stumbles into a loner healer, named Bracken. She's only 9 moons old, and asks if he's seen a black tom - her littermate. Out of concern, he offers her advice on some of the local herbs, and offers her a place in the Clan. But Bracken refused, having heard rumors about Clan life and VERY adamant against it. Windfur burns with resentment over Lakestar's bloody legacy.
Deerkit and Cottonkit REALLY want to explore outside of camp, interested in the songs of birds they've never seen. Cottonkit comes up with a plan to sneak out with Deerkit, but Barleywave puts a stop to it. Barleywave thinks the kits aren't taking their safety seriously.
Cloudthunder cooks Tree something soothing for their stomach. Tree thanks her profusely and offers a flirty compliment, which Cloudthunder seems receptive to.
Barleywave tried to talk to Riversnow like Hopechase asked of him, really, he tried. But it was rather difficult to do when she kept not-so-subtly finding an excuse to leave whenever he approached her. Dejected, he gives up. She had no obligation to talk to him, right? He wasn't her mate. That was normal. Yep. He wasn't - nope. He wasn't sad at all. Sadness is for losers. He was TOTALLY FINE - [He was, in fact, not fine.]
