Ever since she was a kit introduced to clan life, Brightstorm was utterly enthralled by it. Boulderfrost was a loving adoptive mother, kind and gentle and wise as she found new confidence in teaching her new kits. From the tale of HillClan's tragedy, to DawnClan's existence as a new hope and how StarClan guided their paws to this very grotto, Brightstorm had lapped it up.
And, Boulderfrost was saying, explaining the duties of all of the cats to an eager Brightkit, That is Alderrustle, the medicine cat. He can commune with StarClan.
Awe and wonder struck her.
'Commune'? she asked, for it was still a rather big word for a tiny kit, but she vaguely understood her mother's implication.
He goes to a special place called the Sky Splinter to share tongues with our ancestors every half-moon, patiently Boulderfrost explained, And sometimes, StarClan comes to him in dreams. They tell him things he should make Darkstar aware of, so she can keep protecting our clan.
Brightkit's eyes had sparkled.
Will I be able to get those dreams?
Boulderfrost, chuckling, had gently nudged her bubbly daughter with her nose, pushing her closer to the snoozing ball of ginger fluff that was her sister nestled up against her belly.
Maybe, if you actually go to sleep.
Brightstorm couldn't remember a day other than that one where she had tried so hard to fall asleep.
But she never had a single prophetic dream, nor was visited by any StarClan cats.
After a successful dawn patrol, Brightstorm had been the first to duck back into the warriors' den. She was tired, exhausted even.
An entire morning spent tracking a fox's scent, only to find it was stale, and had already run off into the valley below, hopefully to never be seen again.
What a waste of time!
She could have been hunting, or checking in on the elders, or saying hi to Eagleburn...
Brightstorm tucked her nose deeper into the soft fur of her tail curled up against her face. Bayspots, her mate, was out hunting. She somewhat missed her warmth in their shared nest, but, lately, she had been rather distant.
Even their kits had begun to notice. Frostspots and Sparrowshadow had remarked upon it while helping Sandfeather to the nursery--oh, grandkits, it was hard not to be giddy about grandkits!--which Brightstorm had gently suggested to be due to the anxious nerves from Sandfeather's pregnancy.
Brightstorm and Bayspots had long agreed to not have another litter after Brightstorm's difficult pregnancy, so Sandfeather's kits would be an exciting way to make up for such a loss.
It was understandable to get the jitters.
... But, Brightstorm didn't fully believe her own excuses.
Not when Bayspots looked at her with hollow eyes, and laid so distant from her in their nest.
Eyes squeezed shut even tighter, and her ears twitched.
Why did it seem like more light than usual was seeping into the warriors' den? Had the curtain of vines thinned in the coming leaf-bare?
Irritated, Brightstorm opened her eyes, prepared to find a new napping spot further back into the den, and stopped. Claws dug deep into the soft moss of her nest, so deep she could feel the well-packed earth beneath, and her gilded-orange eyes blew wide, incredulous.
"... Mother?"
Dew glittered on every piece of grass, every stone shimmering like gems. The sunlight, now that she had her eyes open, pooled in, but with her vision clear, it was softer, gentler. The warmth of it was noticeable upon her fur compared to the chilly leaf-fall wind that had chased her all throughout the forest. Most importantly of all, framed in dappled sunlight, Boulderfrost stood at the den's mouth with a warm, soft expression, a mother's love glinting in her eyes.
"Mother!"
Springing to her paws, Brightstorm surely should have knocked Boulderfrost over in her enthusiasm. Did StarClan give her once elderly and frail mother the gift of a sturdiness that rivaled her boulder namesake?
"Hello, my sweet daughter," Boulderfrost purred, bumping noses with Brightstorm, "I am happy to see you."
"Am I... Did I die?"
Brightstorm never was on to dawdle and the instant the question arose as to why she was seeing her mother, a conclusion was drawn. She jolted back, mortified by the idea of passing in her sleep when she had felt perfectly fine, and relaxed when Boulderfrost shook her head.
"No, Brightstorm, you are still very much alive."
Boulderfrost's voice rumbled with laughter.
"I am merely... Paying a visit."
Tension melting away in the sun, Brightstorm nodded. She could accept that.
"... Then," Her eyes widened again, "Is this... I'm not a medicine cat. How am I seeing you?"
Boulderfrost motioned with her tail, and the two sat down, indicating a longer conversation to come.
"StarClan cats can make visits," Boulderfrost began, "But only occasionally. I had to ask Riverstar quite a few times before she allowed me this."
Brightstorm was practically overflowing with new questions, namely who is Riverstar?, but she held her tongue. She had a feeling that she should not waste this precious time bombarding her mother with topics and questions that were irrelevant to her original journey to this dream.
"I came to say congratulations."
Brightstorm blinked.
"Con...gratulations?"
Boulderfrost's gaze darkened. There was still the same aura of warm love, but it was tainted by a smidge of disappointment, and a new feeling of worry that Brightstorm felt wash over her own fur.
The sun felt less warm, and she felt her heart begin to sink, unable to take receiving such a look from her beloved mother who she had missed so dearly.
"Congratulations... And provide you a warning."
Eyes turning downward, Brightstorm realized Boulderfrost looked to her belly--so she did as well.
... Had she gotten extra plump this greenleaf? Was that supposed to be a sarcastic congratulations?
"You've always been a wonderful warrior, Brightstorm. You follow your heart, and you serve your clan well. But secrets and deception are the end of even the most virtuous cat."
Brightstorm's blood ran cold, and her head jerked up.
"I don't understand--"
"You're pregnant, my love."
Boulderfrost needn't say anything more. The look of knowing in her eyes, and the way Brightstorm's heart momentarily stopped was all that was needed.
Horror and excitement twisted like cruel thorns inside of her, delight conflicting with despair as her head bowed, gaze fixed in silent shock upon the ground.
"I'm... I'm..."
She couldn't finish it. She knew what it meant.
Boulderfrost stood, and Brightstorm felt her soft nose touch to her forehead.
"You are not evil nor unworthy of StarClan's love because of this," Boulderfrost murmured. "All cats are flawed, and temptation can lead us all astray. But it is what you do after that will decide it all."
"Mother, I'm... I--"
Brightstorm lifted her head, her heart a stormcloud of emotion, but Boulderfrost was gone. The glittering dew, the warm sunshine, and the well-lit den was replaced by what the warriors' den normally looked like. Hollyclaw was peeking in with Squirrelbite, both looking inquisitively at Brightstorm.
"Hey, you good?" Squirrelbite asked, grunting as Hollyclaw roughly nudged her.
"You... seemed to be having a nightmare," Hollyclaw corrected her with a gentler tone, and Brightstorm felt her pelt warm and had to focus on not bristling.
"Thank you, but I think I'm just still mad about that fox."
The two other she-cats nodded and murmured their understanding, and while Squirrelbite trotted off, Hollyclaw hesitated.
"Don't be afraid to check in with the medicine cats if you don't feel well, okay? Poppy seeds are great for nightmares."
After Brightstorm nodded, Hollyclaw left, leaving her in the big, empty warriors' den.
Silent, Brightstorm slowly eased her cheek down onto the moss, gazing vacantly at the opposing dirt wall, studying the roots peeking out through its packed surface.
Pregnant.
And she knew who the father was.
Perhaps she had been right to feel uneasy under Bayspots' cold gaze.
Darkstar doesn't remember when it all started to fall apart.
No, that was wrong.
She remembered somewhere close. After so many wonderful moons of serving DawnClan, she had forgotten what it was like to experience the pain of significant loss, to lose cats near and dear to her.
HillClan was like a terrible dream, a nightmare that she had to wake up from.
DawnClan was different.
Here, she would not be separated from her friends, her family, her kin.
Paradise had been found, and she would cling onto it until her final breath.
But, the pieces of her kingdom slowly began to fall away.
In quiet, grieving vigil, she watched as one by one, original founders passed on to Silverpelt to watch over DawnClan from the ranks of StarClan. Lightstripe, Rimebright, Elmstripe...
Even those had been mere kits when she had brought them to this safe place had passed, young Duskkit growing into Dusktree, and then falling to illness.
But she kept on.
It was what she owed her clan, to swallow down this grief, and to put on a happy face, for she would dishonor the tragedy of HillClan and the hardships of her ancestors to collapse under this weight now.
So, she plodded on, watching as DawnClan grew and flourished, and swelled with pride with it. Yet, there was a darkness gnawing inside of her, eating away like maggots into an old carcass.
Eventually, she'd be nothing but bones, and she did not know what she would do then, how she would hide all of these rotting feelings.
It was when Boulderfrost retired that something inside of her began to break.
"I'm tired, Darkstar," meekly Boulderfrost had begun, looking upon where her leader lay curled in her soft moss nest.
"I think... I think it's time for me to join the elders. I'm ready."
Darkstar could not conceal the flash of hurt that shot across her face like a bolt of lightning in time, and she recognized Boulderfrost's guilt instantly. Turning away her head, not wanting to burden Boulderfrost more with her turbulent emotions, she knew she was right.
Boulderfrost had pushed the limitations of how long she could reasonably serve in her position, and Darkstar would be lying to say she had not noticed how her hunting prowl had slowed and stiffened, how she took longer to bounce back from training apprentices, and how often she overslept and missed morning patrols.
Denial was not a pretty thing, but Darkstar wanted to play pretend.
Just a little longer.
Yet, when she peered back, Boulderfrost's weary gaze forced her into reality.
"Of course," Darkstar agreed with a wise nod, swallowing the mouse-bile taste in her mouth, "We'll have the ceremony at sun-down, once everyone is back from patrol. You deserve to rest, Boulderfrost."
Relieved, Boulderfrost had bowed her head, and ducked out of the den to go and find her kits, clearly eager to be able to rest and focus on her family.
Darkstar stared gloomily out into camp, watching Brightstorm and Suntuft prance over to their mother.
Why could time not slow down for them all?
How was it these young kits were already full-fledged warriors?
Brightstorm had recently announced her betrothal to Bayspots, and soon enough, she was sure they'd be announcing kits.
It was moving too fast, like a swift river current dragging her under, and no matter how much she tried, she could not get her head above the frigid water, gulping it down and feeling it fill her lungs.
But she had to be strong for her clan.
So, as promised, at sun-down, she brought together the clan, and with her perfected, put-together appearance, she proclaimed with great fondness that Boulderfrost had earned her right to the elders' den, where she could now serve her clan with her moons of wisdom.
Oatbright, a promising young cat, was selected--or, promising in her mind, blurred by growing grief, and wanting the ceremony over with.
The gathering was a mix of congratulations and mild confusion, for many foresaw Suntuft as their new deputy, or Aspenmoss, one of Slatespots' kits.
Oatbright himself seemed uncertain and uneasy, walking it off with tentative confidence.
But it would be okay, for Darkstar knew what she was doing, and she knew best for this clan, as StarClan had decreed for her.
Down, down did she crush her terrible feelings as she led DawnClan with confidence and pride, ignoring how her own joints began to stiffen with the changing of seasons and how much she struggled to get out of her moss nest.
It was fine, for she had her clan to motivate her.
But time had other plans.
"Boulderfrost, she's..."
Brightstorm's voice, thick with emotion, felt like another surge of that raging river Darkstar was barely surviving.
Behind the young she-cat, a pair of warriors carefully drug in the limp silhouette of Boulderfrost, who dangled easily from their grasp.
Under the high midday sun, Boulderfrost's age seemed that much more obvious.
Her pelt was thin, her body gaunt, her joints jutting out. No matter how much she rested, no matter how much fresh-kill was brought to her, like all other cats, Boulderfrost was not immortal.
Darkstar stood frozen to the spot, her paws rooted to the hard earth as Brightstorm sniffled, and the grieving wail of Suntuft splintered the peaceful day.
I'm their leader, Darkstar thought, frantic and insistent as she fixed her gaze on the ground, I must be strong, I always must be strong.
Aside from uttering quiet commands to arrange for a dawn burial and overnight vigil for Boulderfrost, she did not speak a single other word the rest of the day.
She sat by Boulderfrost, thinking over and over of their journey to this land, of the happiness they shared, over the growth of these young cats they watched, and how at the cost of all of the time to earn these memories, she had lost her closest friend.
Yes, that was where it had begun.
The denial she clung to like a StarClan-savior let her go. Like a scruffed kit dropped into that raging river she hated, she was helpless to the riptide tearing through her life.
Soon, Burnetstripe would die to infection from kitting, and only Oatbright remained from the founding days, purposefully fixed in the position of deputy as the last remaining member of the old HillClan.
She withdrew into herself, and the bright, warm, and friendly Darkstar died with Boulderfrost that night, that vigil.
The she-cat who arose in the morning was someone new, and the clan felt it.
"Darkstar--"
"Do it, or you'll be next," Darkstar hissed, pinning Softtail, panicked and wild-eyed, beneath her large paws.
"Are you saying you agree with his blasphemy?!"
Oatbright swallowed, and the evening air was filled with the wailing screeches of the brawling cats.
She could not tolerate the outspoken, indignant attitude of these warriors. First Softtail, trying to act as if he knew better, warning her off hunting in CopseClan territory when they were suffering from a great prey-drought in leaf-bare.
Then Flickerjay, who worried over apprenticing kits at four moons rather than six, when obviously they needed the apprentices sooner than later.
Soon, the cats of DawnClan avoided speaking up around Darkstar. The last was Mottlefox, and while none spoke of it, fearing the wrath of their leader, his tragic death by a wolverine had felt entirely avoidable as he not been punished to flush it out of their territory alone.
Especially did the kits and grandkits of the founders suffer.
Softtail, son of Burnetstripe, often was delegated the roughest of tasks, condemned to cleaning the dirtplace and checking fox dens for occupants.
Mottlefox died for the sin of not only speaking out, but reminding Darkstar of her ancient grief with how similar in color he was to Dusktree.
Paws permanently stained red from the blood of her own clan, she knew it was her sacrifice, her burden. She had to do this for them, for they did not know better.
This was her StarClan-given duty.
Roaming the forest they called home alone, Darkstar walked slow, claws flexing over the soft needle-bed.
The earth was becoming moist and spongey, the fresh rain and gentle breeze signaling that leaf-bare was coming to a close, and new-leaf was on the horizon.
Lifting her head and parting her mouth, she drew in the scents of the forest, and noted how she could no longer determine all of the smells as easily.
They were dull, much like her fresh-kill, which now always tasted stale and bland.
Perhaps that was why she heard danger before she smelled it, whipping around with a fierce hiss and a raise of her hackles.
The fox that had crept up on her snarled in turn, fierce and looking well-fed in spite of the cruel leaf-bare they had barely made it out of.
Prowling towards her, the beast's muscles rippled smooth beneath its ginger pelt, and Darkstar shifted back, her spine arching.
She was too far from camp to run. Too far to call for help.
And too slow with these age-worn joints to escape.
Catching her snarling reflection in the gleaming black eyes of her enemy, she suddenly froze.
Behind the imposing figure of the fox, she saw movement.
Gentle, like cotton on the green-leaf breeze, a pelt of sparkling stars appeared to her. One paw in front of the other, the fox did not sense what it was she looked on at in shock and amazement, and Darkstar's bristled pelt settled, and she straightened.
"Boulderfrost...?"
These moons of endless grief and strife, drowning under the weight of her duties, suddenly lifted from her shoulders. She felt light and young again as the she-cat smiled at her, warm and familiar.
Even in the face of death's glittering teeth, Darkstar could not bring herself to look away from her old friend.
Her last memory of her had been on her death day, old and bedraggled. Here, with stars glittering like dewdrops in her fur, she was young again. She moved with grace, her paws nimble as she stepped around the fox, still unseeing of the StarClan cat, and walked to Darkstar.
"Hello, Darkstar," Boulderfrost meowed softly, her eyes full of warm kindness.
"It's been awhile, hasn't it?"
Tears pricked Darkstar's eyes, and she no longer heard the fox's growls.
"It has," she agreed, overwhelmed with emotion.
Boulderfrost stepped closer, and Darkstar could smell her sweet scent. She did not care as to why she was here, or what it meant.
All that mattered was this terrible loneliness that was lifting from her heart, thinking of nothing but this moment.
"It's time," Boulderfrost said, and Darkstar no longer felt afraid.
The fear of mortality, both her own and others, was gone. She had died twice already and lived with the trauma of it with some struggle, and yet, here and now, as she understood Boulderfrost's words, she didn't feel any of her old fear.
She just felt... Tired.
"I understand now," Darkstar whispered, the tears falling from her eyes and wetting her fluffy cheeks, "The feeling when you decided to become an elder. I'm... I'm tired, Boulderfrost. I'm tired."
"I know," Boulderfrost said, and as the fox bunched up its muscles, tired of waiting for Darkstar to make the first move, she walked closer.
Boulderfrost touched noses to Darkstar, and a true peace washed over her.
Darkstar caught only a glimpse of the fox's gleaming, saliva-wet maw as it lunged, shutting her eyes.
For the first time in many moons, finally, the river slowed, and she was able to lift up her head, and take in a deep breath.
a boulderfrost n darkstar wip that has consumed my entire day wholly bcuz 1. cat anatomy and 2. how do markings work??
practice will slowly but surely help but boy howdy.
Ripping through the patrol like an unyielding hurricane, Boulderfrost was an unstoppable force as she sought out her daughter. In her frenzy, she practically knocked the returning warriors off of their paws, until a voice broke through her panic.
"I'm here, Boulderfrost--it's... it's okay!"
Heart plummeting straight to her paws, Boulderfrost froze colder than the most chilling of leafbare ice.
Shyly peeking out from being Rimebright, Brightpaw's sandy fur was colored a horrid shade of damp red. Open claw wounds marking down her face weep down onto the dirt trail into camp, and then and there, Boulderfrost thought she may die.
"Where's Alderrustle?!"
On swift paws, mobilized by renewed adrenaline, Boulderfrost was quickly shoving Brightpaw along with her head, trailed behind by Rimebright and Burnetstripe.
From her den, Darkstar emerged, drowsy and confused.
"Hey, hey--"
Bounding across the camp after shaking off sleep, she caught up to Brightpaw and Boulderfrost, with Alderrustle likewise emerging from the medicine cats' den with sleep-bleary eyes.
"What happened?"
"We were out on patrol, when..."
Burnetstripe spoke up first, before hesitating, and Rimebright promptly chimed in, voice firm.
"An owl almost got her."
Boulderfrost's breath hitched.
"It dropped her before it could do anything else, but..."
Rimebright glanced over, and his gaze instantly became pitying. There was no way the claw-wounds on Brightpaw's face did not hurt terribly, and he doubted they would fade either.
Yet, Brightpaw fluffed herself up, seemingly not yet feeling the pain of her cuts. Likely thanks to a good surge of adrenaline.
"But I survived! And I have the mark to prove it!"
Her tail flagged high, more proud than scared, and Boulderfrost merely stared, trembling in place.
"Excellent, good job young apprentice, now get in," Alderrustle grumbled, cutting in between the collective cats, "Story-telling can come after. Burnetstripe, please come and help me."
Straightening, newest warrior Burnetstripe quickly nodded and followed Alderrustle and Brightpaw into the den.
Locked in place, Boulderfrost looked conflicted, eyes focusing on the ground.
"Hey..." Tail sweeping over her back, Darkstar glanced to Rimebright and nodded, signalling that he could leave. Bowing his head, he glanced one more time to the medicine cats' den before taking his leave, slinking off to retire to the warrior cats' den and let the rousing others know what happened.
"Alderrustle will take care of her."
"What if I lost her?"
Voice hitching, Boulderfrost cannot stop the flow of tears down fluffy cheeks as her shoulders hunch and head bowed.
"M-maybe she should come back to the nursery, maybe she isn't ready--"
"Hey. Hey. Look at me."
With watery eyes, Boulderfrost tentatively obeyed her leader's command.
Expression soft, Darkstar studied Boulderfrost's fearful gaze.
"... It's going to be okay. She's resilient, you saw that for yourself. What will she think if she sees you upset?"
Boulderfrost's ears lowered, and she looked elsewhere.
"... She may think... she may lose her confidence."
"You told them they'd always be courageous and strong. Brightpaw demonstrated that tonight, despite how scary of a situation it was. You should be proud."
Boulderfrost, thinking for a beat, finally nodded. She should be proud, but it was so hard when she was thinking of all of the possible things that could have gone wrong.
"No more thinking." Headbutting Boulderfrost's shoulder, Darkstar pushed her to the medicine cats' den. "Go. I'm sure Brightpaw has a story to tell you."
Hesitating, Boulderfrost finally smiled, nodded, and quickly wiped her tears away with a paw as she padded on to join the other cats.
Waiting until she fully vanished, Darkstar looked to Silverpelt, and shut her eyes.
"... Thank you, StarClan, for keeping Brightpaw safe."
Under the half-full moon, two silhouettes are outlined by its silver light. Shadows stretching long over the heart of the camp, they sat at the perfect vantage point to overlook it all at the peak of one of the great trees DawnClan thanked routinely for its shade.
The two felines sat close on a single, broad branch, and spoke in soft, quiet tones, knowing how well voices carried in the grotto.
"I didn't expect you to do that, Darkstar..."
Looking down to the apprentices' den, Boulderfrost curled her tail over her forepaws, which were drawn tidily close to her belly.
"You, mentoring Brightpaw? I think she about went to StarClan."
Boulderfrost chuckled, recalling how her kit had practically exploded from the excitement and honor of being declared the leader's apprentice.
Not only that, but the leader's first apprentice since they came to this new territory.
"I wish I could mentor both of them," Darkstar admitted, and dark blue eyes slid over to study Boulderfrost. In the moonlight, her whiskers almost seemed to catch and reflect the light. Her eyes sage-green eyes were bright, excited. "But I know Lightstripe will do well by Sunpaw."
Boulderfrost hummed her agreement, and Darkstar turned her gaze elsewhere, likewise looking down to the apprentices' den.
Sunpaw and Brightpaw had each other, but it was their first night outside of the nursery. Now, they would share a den with Duskpaw and Oatpaw, rather than only their mother.
Some part of Boulderfrost had fretted over this change, but both felines seemed more than happy to transition to the new space.
"... You are an excellent mother to them, Boulderfrost."
Boulderfrost straightened, surprised by the transition in topic that broke the momentary silence.
"Why did you never teach them to call you 'mother'?"
From surprised, to solemn, Boulderfrost's gaze lingered for only a beat upon Darkstar before she looked elsewhere. Down into the camp, she did not look again to the apprentices' den, but instead, the nursery.
"... I don't mind them calling me by my name, instead of mother," she said, softly.
"I just... I feel if I take that title, it means I'm no longer honoring their real mother. I want them to always have her memory close to their hearts, and when they think of 'mother', they think of her. So she'll never fade."
Quietly, Darkstar listened, and digested these words.
She understood where Boulderfrost was coming from. Ever since the kits could comprehend speech, she spoke of their kittypet mother who so bravely brought them to the clan. She spoke of how even a kittypet, a cat looked down upon by other clans, could demonstrate such courage and selflessness, and how they, too, could follow in her pawsteps.
Yet, at the end of the day, Darkstar found herself more in awe of Boulderfrost's sense of selflessness as she grew close to these kits, but never took what she felt did not belong to her.
"... I'm sure she's thanking you from Silverpelt," Darkstar reassured.
Shuffling, she pressed her side against Boulderfrost's, and without thinking twice, Boulderfrost settled her cheek against Darkstar's shoulder.
Beneath her fur, Boulderfrost felt herself warm.
"Do you mind... coming with me, to her grave, so we can tell her about her kits' ceremony?"
Darkstar's eyes crinkled in a smile, and tilting her head, she gave a nod.
"Of course. I'll be the first to tell her all about Brightpaw's growth."
Boulderfrost nodded, and with sunshine in her heart, she gently pulled away to lead them down to the nameless kittypet's final resting place.
Ceremony days bore an infectious energy.
Slowly seeping throughout the camp, even the most exhausted elder and grumpiest warrior could not help but feel a lightness to their pawsteps, a birdsong in their heart.
Especially apprentice ceremony days.
It had been some moons since the tragic loss of Sunkit and Brightkit's kittypet mother, who had sacrificed herself in the name of her kits. Watching diligently over them, Darkstar felt satisfied in their growth under the wing of Boulderfrost.
Her deputy was the perfect kit of an adoptive mother to these kits.
Under her guidance, they flourished, and one would never think they bore soft kittypet blood.
These young cats were destined warriors, through and through.
"I am proud to call this Gathering today," Darkstar began, claws digging into the Great Oak at the peak of the camp to maintain her position, "to declare that we have two kits ready to graduate from the nursery, and begin their training as warriors."
From the collected group, there were yowls of excitement, cries of celebration for the two kits that they all knew were most deserving.
At the front of the group, framed by the midday sun, Brightkit and Sunkit sat with their mother, Boulderfrost.
Barely able to sit still, Brightkit visibly vibrated with her excitement, while Sunkit looked up frequently to check-in with Boulderfrost.
The pride on Boulderfrost's face warmed Darkstar's heart, and her eyes crinkled in a smile as she continued.
"Both now six moons, these kits have shown they are ready to join the clan."
With a swish of her tail, she looked down first upon Sunkit, who straightened considerably under her gaze.
"Sunkit, having reached the age of six moons, you are now ready to be an apprentice. From this day forth, until you are ready for your warrior name, you shall be known as Sunpaw. Your mentor shall be Lightstripe, who shall pass down his wisdom to you."
Another motion of her tail beckoned Lightstripe forward, who, with chest fluffed out, met newly named Sunpaw to touch noses with her.
No longer did she look to Boulderfrost, instead gazing up at Lightstripe with thinly veiled excitement.
"As one of our clan founders, you bear a wisdom that is an invaluable resource. Pass down all that you know to Sunpaw, so that she, too, may become a part of the foundation of this clan."
Lightstripe bowed his head, and Sunpaw, freezing, soon followed suit before both cats stepped back.
Darkstar turned her head, and looked fondly upon the overexcited Brightkit.
"Brightkit."
Brightkit practically leapt to her feet, tail high in the air, copper eyes glinting in the sun.
"You have also reached the age of six moons, and are ready to be an apprentice. Until the day of your warrior ceremony, you shall be known as Brightpaw. And your mentor..."
The collection of warriors looked amongst themselves, as none could recall Darkstar explicitly seeking them out to discuss mentoring Brightpaw.
From the Great Oak, Darkstar crouched, before she sprung forward, landing back into the grotto's clearing.
"Shall be me, Darkstar."
Brightpaw looked nigh ready to faint, and Boulderfrost's eyes blew wide as well, surprised by the turn of events.
A murmur rippled through the gathering of cats, and unbeknownst to Darkstar, in the background, a flash of jealousy lit in Sunpaw's eyes, her visible excitement dimming from a flame, to a mere ember.
"I promise to pass all that I know to you, and teach you the meaning of being a warrior," Darkstar said, and Brightpaw, recovering, stood especially straight as she met her leader's gaze.
"May we have many fruitful moons together."
As she finished her words, her tail lifted, and with it rose the voices of the clan.
Sunpaw! Brightpaw! Sunpaw! Brightpaw!
The forest was filled with their cheers of celebration as they cried out the new names of the two apprentices, with Boulderfrost yowling the loudest of them all as she stood tall and proud.
As the cries of celebration slowly faded, in the distance, Sunpaw excused herself to the apprentice's den, citing feeling suddenly unwell.
As she left, a wayward glance was paid over her shoulder, and enviously, she stared as Darkstar and Brightpaw touched noses.
DARKSTAR. 75 moons, a fierce and devoted leader and one of the clan founders.
BOULDERFROST. 64 moons, a quick-witted deputy and oneo f the clan founders. retired at 137 moons.
OATBRIGHT. 78 moons, a shameless and quick-witted tabby-tom recently promoted to deputy.
ALDERRUSTLE. 137 moons, a calm and patient medicine cat.
deceased: passed of natural causes.
PETUNIADAPPLE. 52 moons, an intelligent and ambitious medicine cat. a rogue who offered his medicinal skills in exchange for shelter.
GRAYFADE. 23 moons, a newly inducted medicine cat with a faithful heart and quick-wit. brought to the clan by her kittypet father, who also joined.
SLEETPAD. 70 moons, a cold and clinical medicine cat who was booted from his former clan due to his poor bedside manner. his former leader had not appreciated his cold behavior at the stillbirth of her kits.
