MOON 21 (Part 2)
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Windfur and Brackenfreckle have a long conversation about the nature of StarClan as they collect herbs.
(Brackenfreckle, healer, female, 19 moons. Grumpy.) (Windfur, cleric, male, 35 moons. Lonesome.)
Branchsnarl and Airswift argue over nesting space in the warrior's den. Cloudthunder is frustrated when she has to break them up. Airswift scoffs and storms off.
(Branchsnarl, warrior, trans male, 16 moons. Ambitious.) (Airswift, warrior, male, 11 moons. Charismatic.) (Cloudthunder, warrior, female, 54 moons. Loyal.)
Deerpaw brought back some feathers for the kits to play with.
(Deerpaw, apprentice, female, 11 moons. Righteous.) (Hazelkit, kitten, male, 1 moon. Charming.) (Ghostkit, kitten, male, 1 moon. Shy.) (Mulberrykit, kitten, female, 1 moon. Quiet.)
Morningspot teaches Owlpaw battle moves. Owlpaw focuses intensely on this, excelling in the lesson. Morningspot praises her during sparring. The excess effort releases enough of Owlpaw's stress for her to no longer feel helpless. Owlpaw is no longer Afflicted.
(Morningspot, warrior, female, 23 moons. Nervous.) (Owlpaw, apprentice, female, 8 moons. Adventurous.)
Perchwatcher appreciates Brackenfreckle's hard work, even if Brackenfreckle acts grumpy at times.
(Perchwatcher, warrior, female, 16 moons. Responsible.) (Brackenfreckle, healer, female, 19 moons. Grumpy.)
Blackpaw and Riftgorse catch Branchsnarl doing something embarassing and promise not to tell.
(Branchsnarl, warrior, trans male, 16 moons. Ambitious.) (Riftgorse, warrior, male, 19 moons. Charismatic.) (Blackpaw, apprentice, female, 6 moons. Insecure.)
Redstar takes Cottonpaw and Deerpaw out training, and brings Barleywave with them. Redstar teaches the apprentices the new procedure of how to handle Nature's Mockeries.
(Redstar, leader, female, 80 moons. Strict.) (Barleywave, warrior, male, 50 moons. Playful.) (Cottonpaw, apprentice, female, 11 moons. Bold.) (Deerpaw, apprentice, female, 11 moons. Righteous.)
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Things had moved quickly while Redstar was sick with whitecough. It had only been two moons since the Gardener attack, but already ForestClan was shifting in a new direction. Redstar was somewhat grateful that she managed to iron out new lockdown and out-of-camp procedures before she became too sick to think straight. Now, with a clearer head, she could really observe the results.
The slick, green Twoleg linen that Lucifer had gifted them was waterproof - to the Clan's excitement. There was a bit of bickering about where it could best be used, before settling on using it to shield the cooking fire and drying racks, to keep the area free of snow in the coming leaf-bare.
Barleywave led the charge in helping with wall repairs over the past two moons - they only had to fully replace one full tree trunk in the end. Other pieces of the wall were being repaired by cutting away broken sections, and flattening out logs to stack on top of each other; securing them with twine and pine sap. It was an all-day affair to drag and erect a suitable replacement for the completely obliterated section. She remembered hovering around anxiously as it was being dragged with rope, group effort, and careful guidance. She would've assisted, if it weren't for literally everyone telling her to go away before she spread whitecough to them. But still - they succeeded, and the wall was replaced, even if a few sections were uneven.
Cottonpaw's idea for a bunker closer to the ground was well received - and it was decided to be made closer to the medicine den. It would need to be built in newleaf, since the snow would get in the way of hollowing out the space. Still - Redstar's heart warmed when she saw a pile of design concepts etched in birch bark laying next to Cottonpaw's bedding.
Torch bearings were erected near the gate doors. Repairing the broken pulley for the gate took a few weeks - until then, cats mostly weaved through the gap made by the loose door. She was grateful that Branchsnarl, Olive and Perchwatcher had managed to find an oak log suited to replacing the pulley; with enough carving and wearing down. It was a good beginner lesson for Blackpaw and Shadepaw in camp-keeping. A shame Shadepaw caught yellowcough after all that - he seemed enthused.
So much more had changed that caused Redstar's head to spin. She learned that Olive was learning some proper sparring techniques with Barleywave - pushed by the new rule of needing to learn combat with fire. Owlpaw was still distant, but Redstar learned that Owlpaw taught herself how to craft frames with twine and sticks as meditation, and Daffodilpaw started putting them together. The sisters created in silence with no expectations - and now, a cube, a pyramid and a ball-like toy were strewn about the entrance of the nursery, with Iciclepool and Hopechase's kits batting at them. Cats were going over how to deal with Woodcrawlers and Fake Cats if they were encountered in the woods. The only true roadblock was the red, fleshlike Woodcrawler that Shiverstep spoke of - and that Brackenfreckle confirmed the existence of. The only method of defense they knew was backing away from it slowly - but even then, the two mollies weren't sure of anything beyond that. Fire would be their weapon against it until they knew more.
Redstar decided today to teach the procedure against Nature's Mockery.
She gathered Cottonpaw, and Deerpaw, and had Barleywave join. After all, he was the one who found one growing in a small clearing devoid of shrubs or wilted overgrowth. They needed to handle it soon, before the first snowfall came and buried half of it.
"Cottonpaw, watch where you're turning here. Shrub branches," Barleywave meowed.
"Yeah, I know, I'm careful," Cottonpaw replied. Redstar suppressed a scowl. She twitched her ear.
"You're carrying our flame. He's right to warn you," she said.
"Well yeah, I know, but I think you guys underestimate how sturdy these containers are! What did Lucifer call them, jars?" Cottonpaw asked as she glanced down at the transparent, Twoleg container that was strapped to a leather harness at her side. In the container was a pile of hot cinders, cushioned by a thin mouse pelt at the bottom. A golden lid with many small holes allowed strands of smoke to escape. Her hazel eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. "Perchwatcher's brilliant! She came up with the idea to use these to - "
"It doesn't matter, Cottonpaw, those things still can break! Remember the one mom dropped?" Deerpaw interjected, her tail flicking. "The pierces were sharp! We have to be careful anyway."
Cottonpaw's fur bristled as she carefully moved around the shrubs. "I know that! I'm just saying that - "
"Hey." Redstar interjected firmly. The two littermates fell silent. Redstar's ear swiveled, keeping her voice leveled. "You are in the woods. Our opponents are ambush predators. Be alert and aware."
Barleywave, who was leading the front, flicked his tail once in agreement. "It's worth keeping an ear out."
Cottonpaw and Deerpaw were silent for the remainder of the patrol.
Finally, after a few minutes, Barleywave stopped before the start of a clearing, sloped down in a path of tree roots and scattered stones. He beckoned Redstar with his tail quietly. The leader padded beside him and scanned the scene before her. The ground was cold and dry with wilted nettles and blackened leaves, seasonal weeds and plants had wilted and died out in the leafbare chill. In the shadows of the spruce trees, Redstar spotted it. It could've been mistaken for the burned remains of a Twoleg fire from afar - laying in a triangular shape. But ForestClan knew better.
Cottonpaw and Deerpaw slowly crept beside the two warriors, spotting the Nature's Mockery nestled near a set of trees below. Deerpaw cautiously raised her nose and tasted the air.
"The wind is blowing the opposite direction," she noted.
Redstar nodded. "Yes. Otherwise, you likely would smell something by now, though faint." Redstar cautiously took a few pawsteps forward. "We should be safe - stay two foxlengths away from it."
Cottonpaw and Deerpaw obeyed as they shuffled their way down, careful not to drag any nettles or stones with them. Barleywave staggered forward more confidently, removing a long, makeshift torch from the harness he strapped on his back.
"Barley," Redstar hissed in warning.
"This one's already hatched, Redstar," he pointed out.
"Yes, I know that, but we're teaching a procedure. At least treat it like one."
Barleywave mumbled something, his ears flattening. He sat down opposite of Redstar, as Cottonpaw and Deerpaw sat side by side, staring at the Nature's Mockery apprehensively. Cottonpaw twitched and started withdrawing the glass jar from her pouch with her mouth.
"So. Brief refresher - Cottonpaw, give us a description of the Nature's Mockery," Redstar asked. Cottonpaw let out a grunt as she pulled out the jar.
"A' a'ure's 'ockery ish - ack, 'old on," Cottonpaw slowly placed the jar on the ground, then licked her teeth and let out a quick yawn. "Sorry! Nature's Mockery are plants created by Deep Root entities. They tend to just appear overnight, so we're not sure how they make them. They look like that," she said as she pointed towards it. Her attempt at levity brought a smirk to Barleywave, but Deerpaw and Redstar seemed unamused. Cottonpaw cleared her throat awkwardly. "Er…but they can be brown or more reddish too."
"Good," Redstar nodded. "Deerpaw, tell me what it does."
Deerpaw straightened. "If you touch one, you're likely to experience horrible symptoms. The most common are hallucinations and paralysis. Stay in contact too long and your cuts stop healing and bones can fracture."
"Yes, close."
"Close?" Deerpaw repeated, baffled. "But - that's what Riversnow taught me!"
"And she's right," Barleywave interjected. "But it's the, uh…polite way of putting it. You're almost of warrior age now, it's fine to be blunt about it." Barleywave winced as he continued. "The, uh…official symptoms for prolonged contact are body disfigurement and flesh decay."
Cottonpaw and Deerpaw both bristled. Deerpaw recovered, her fur flattening quickly. Cottonpaw a little less so - her hazel eyes intently focused on the splitting effigy before them.
"You've been advised that red or brown Mockeries are to be avoided. Correct?" Redstar asked. Both apprentices nodded.
"Then today, I'm showing you how to destroy one, per our new procedure."
Cottonpaw raised a paw, then spoke without waiting for an answer. "Was Airswift shown this before he graduated?"
Redstar frowned at her apprentice. Cottonpaw blinked, somewhat regretful, but still kept her gaze. Redstar knew that Cottonpaw and Deerpaw weren't pleased that their brother became a warrior before them, but she had good reasons for it. Namely, Airswift was incredible at taking directions and listening to older warriors. He was volunteering to join patrols of his own accord, and performed apprentice tasks like cleaning out bedding and kit-care without complaint. He had shown considerable maturity during his apprenticehood - and she had no reason to doubt that Airswift would learn this procedure alongside the younger warriors tomorrow.
"I plan to have him join Branchsnarl and Perchwatcher tomorrow for an outing. They will also need to learn this. It's a new procedure entirely."
Cottonpaw's ear flicked. She placed her paw back down and stared at the jar before her. "Okay. So, how do we start?"
"Step one: big stick," Barleywave piped up, picking the stick back up. "Step two, light stick on fire. Step three, set mousedunged plant on fire."
Redstar glared at Barleywave with exasperation. "No, not quite."
"I mean, that is the long and short of it," the tom insisted.
"Barley, you were at the meeting."
"I know! I know, I'm teasing," Barleywave said defensively. Redstar rolled her eyes, deciding she'd lead the lesson. She approached him, and Barleywave decided to surrender the floor to her and gave her the stick. Redstar turned towards the Nature's Mockery.
For a moment, she observed it intensely. Its form told a story of tangling vines reaching and circling towards the sky, until their own weight caused them to bend and fall into one another. Stems would split and reach towards a perch - another tree, their own bodies, whatever it took - and thick, flesh-like membranes would fill the gaps left behind by the engulfing roots. A horrible mimicry of a protective shield - an egg, a womb, a den.
There was a final feeling of anger and determination that filled her chest. Then, she began.
"First - determine the life stage of the Mockery. This is important." Redstar turned to glance at her apprentice as she said this. "Do not skip this stage. Red or brown Mockeries are fresh, and likely to inflict more harmful symptoms. They are more likely to have roots that extend further out from their base - meaning that you can step on one without realizing it. Watch your step and ensure you have a clear, stable path to both approach and leave as fast as possible."
Deerpaw and Cottonpaw glanced around at their feet, then the Nature's Mockery. Deerpaw's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the plant's exterior.
"This one's black. Is it dead?"
"Correct. This is a dead or dying Mockery. It is the safest variant, but you can still be afflicted by mild symptoms if you touch it."
Cottonpaw flicked her ear and got to her feet. "Okay. Which one is more dangerous - a red or brown one?"
Barleywave shrugged and responded. "We don't make it a habit to test that, so we don't know. We assume the red one is more dangerous, since it's still growing - but both are hazardous."
"Regardless," Redstar interjected, "Stay alert at all times. For the second step of the procedure - carefully light the torch with the cinders brought. Do not do this alone. For the sake of demonstration, I'll be burning this Mockery today - we'll practice technique on a dummy near camp."
Cottonpaw seemed to brighten with recognition, her tail flicking "Oh yeah! Perchwatcher was working on that," she said.
Deerpaw rolled her eyes. "You were also distracting her a lot." Deerpaw immediately regretted it as Redstar whipped her gaze on her. Barleywave waved his tail in front of Redstar, prompting peace. He gestured his head to Cottonpaw. The apprentice just made a face and shrugged, unbothered. The calico suppressed a sigh.
"Open the jar, please."
Cottonpaw held it down with her paws and gnawed it slightly to force the lid to turn. When it loosened, she batted at it with one of her paws until it came off. She held it out and watched Redstar expectantly.
"Hold it in place," Redstar ordered. Cottonpaw obeyed, and Redstar tilted the torch into the cinders. After a few moments, smoke emitted from the torch, rising upward.
"Now tilt the jar slightly, so I can remove the torch without extinguishing the flame." Cottonpaw obeyed, and Redstar grasped the torch tightly in her jaws before removing it slowly. The moment the torch came into contact with the air, the resin-covered birch bark was set ablaze brightly, causing the two apprentices to recoil in surprise. Barleywave let out a mrrow of amusement.
"You've seen how birch bark burns before. It doesn't make cinders, but it burns bright and fast."
"The pine resin maintains the flame and burns the torch for a while - but not too long. Enough to create cinders to burn the Mockery with," Redstar added. She turned solemnly to the Mockery. "The final steps - approach the Mockery slowly. Do not rush. If the flame goes out - so be it. Your life is more valuable than doing this task quickly. Watch me carefully."
Redstar slowly scanned her feet, taking careful steps forward. She scrutinized the ground for any stray deep roots and foreign things. She could hear Barleywave lightly continuing the lesson - pointing out how the leader looked carefully around her every time, and made sure each of her steps was safe and calculated. Finally, when Redstar came within reach, she held her breath as the Nature's Mockery imposed itself upon her. Like it dared her to take another step.
Redstar paused as she stared at the interior of the Mockery - rotting and collapsing like a destroyed nest. Bits of debris and flesh-like webbing still clung onto the branches.
For a moment, she thought she saw curled branches within its heart, like the corpse of a dead insect. Apprehension surged through her; her body warning her that she was poking a sleeping bear.
She pushed it aside. The Mockery was dead. There was nothing inside.
Redstar slowly extended the torch within the plant's cavity. The flames licked at the black fibres above it, until another flame was born, consuming the webbing like clouds swallow sunlight. Redstar continued to bring the torch to other flammable locations, and eventually, whisps of fire slowly ate away at every strand and tendril. Redstar then slowly withdrew the torch, turned around, and retraced her steps. The apprentice's gazes were focused intensely on the spectacle that the torch had given - there were no flames, or heat. It was like swarms of insects were devouring every inch of the Mockery at lightning speed, leaving red imprints before dissolving into ash.
Redstar dug a small hole in the cold, wet ground, and stabbed the lit torch into it, extinguishing the cinders. "I can do this because it's leafbare, and the ground is wet and frozen. Do not do this in any other season, or you'll risk causing a forest fire. Normally, we'd bring water - to both extinguish the torch, and douse the Mockery once it's finished burning."
And for a while, that was it. The four cats grimly stared as the Nature's Mockery burned away slowly, until one of its structural branches snapped and collapsed. The structure fell apart like firewood, until all that was left was soot-colored debris.
"The point isn't to make every bit of it dead - just destroy its structure. It's…similar to destroying a tree. It won't grow leaves or spit sap if it's a mere stump."
From the look in the apprentices' eyes, Redstar knew they absorbed the lesson.
As the patrol packed up and headed back towards camp, Deerpaw and Barleywave treaded further ahead, with Redstar and Cottonpaw trailing behind.
Cottonpaw spoke. "Hey, Redstar?"
Redstar's ear twitched in response.
"There's something that's been on my mind for a while. I've put it aside for the most part, but…I guess it came back to me today."
Redstar glanced at her apprentice. Cottonpaw stared straight ahead, wordlessly putting one foot in front of the other. The way Cottonpaw began her sentence seemed heavy, which concerned Redstar.
"What is it?"
"I guess seeing the dead Mockery just…had me remembering something is all." Cottonpaw swallowed. "...Fake Cats. I've never seen one. The cats are…dead. Right?"
Redstar flinched, stopping briefly in her tracks before restarting. "Sorry. Yes, they are. We know this with certainty."
"How? If you don't mind me asking." Cottonpaw sounded uncharacteristically timid.
Redstar let out a purr of reassurance. Fake Cats were unnerving as a concept, nevermind a real, existing threat. It was a common fear that Fake Cats were not truly dead - one she was happy to dispel. "First, we know through our connection with StarClan. Clerics would reach out to StarClan to find if a lost cat was among them - and if they were, their Fake would be found after a few days. I've seen it happen myself when I was younger. Second, in the rare occasions that we'd fight and defeat them - Fake Cats were always husks, inhabited by Deep Roots. No eyes, no organs, just puppets." Redstar glanced at Cottonpaw. "Fake Cats are not alive. That much I can promise."
Cottonpaw said nothing.
"...Is there something else bothering you?"
"...What about Fake Twolegs?"
Redstar shook her head. "We don't know enough about them to say. They're far more dangerous than Fake Cats are. We don't go near them." Redstar paused. "...I know you and Deerpaw encountered one last greenleaf."
"Yeah…I guess I just…" Cottonpaw stared at the floor before taking a deep breath. "I dunno. It feels weird to say, but…I hope they're dead too."
"I imagine they would be. Woodcrawlers hunt and eat. It'd be like if we kept mice alive in camp for whatever reason - tedious and disruptive."
This drew a short laugh out of Cottonpaw. "Aw, are we sure we don't want mice eating our jerky?"
"No, we do not," Redstar meowed. A smirk broke on her face, despite herself. But after some time, discomfort nestled in Redstar's chest. A thought occurred to her, and it refused to stay bottled. Reluctantly, she meowed, "Is there a reason why you doubt their deaths?"
Cottonpaw fell silent, her hazel eyes distant. She didn't stop moving, letting the silence hang uncomfortably with every step they took. For a moment, Redstar thought that Cottonpaw was going to pretend she didn't hear her. Unfortunately for Redstar, Cottonpaw had an answer.
"...It chased us, you know. The Fake Twoleg."
Redstar bristled. "You never said it chased you."
"I know. I'm sorry about that." Cottonpaw sounded genuinely remorseful, forcing Redstar to flatten her fur. "At the time, I told myself I didn't want to be in even more trouble than I already was. But…I think I was just scared to acknowledge it. I think Deerpaw was too." Cottonpaw looked up at Deerpaw and Barleywave up ahead, watching them converse like a pair of songbirds. "I didn't want to make anyone overthink things. Especially if we're sure that we're okay, you know?"
There was a long pause. The leafbare breeze picked up. The sun barely gasped through the surface of the grey sky. "It's just...the Fake Twoleg had eyes, still. That's why I was worried."
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