#brightstorm

[biggs-regretti]

PONY MOMENT!!! ft. @kittykatmaniac

[dawngen]

The walk of shame back to camp was undeniable.

All eyes fixed on Dappleddusk and Oatstar as they nudged their way through one of the hidden entryways into the camp, and Dappleddusk felt it keenly. Her fur felt flea-bitten with how keenly her clanmates stared, though she felt a smidge better knowing she had not only been able to convince Oatstar to return, but also to hold his head high.

Even if it was not what he felt, he had to appear and play the part of the leader he was supposed to be.

Whispers rippled through, and Dappleddusk silenced them with a sweep of her cold yellow stare. She walked with Oatstar until they were at the base of the Great Oak, going to sit in her spot at its roots as he clambered up.

"Cats of DawnClan," Oatstar began, his voice echoing out over the clearing, and drawing back his once dispersed audience. "I... I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly. But StarClan granted me a vision in the forest."

Dappleddusk's ears twitched.

She hadn't expected him to apologize, let alone follow it up with a lie. A bold-faced one that she could see in her doubting peers' expressions, the gaggle of medicine cats whispering in concern in the far back of the group. Beewatcher caught her eye, shooting a worried look.

Dappleddusk glanced back away. Her stomach turned uneasily, like she had eaten crowfood.

"Eagleburn will find redemption in guiding DawnClan," Oatstar declared. Dappleddusk could hear Sandfeather hiss, and saw Sparrowshadow move to console her out of the corner of her eye. She continued to stare ahead, off into the distance beyond the camp.

"StarClan has shown me that while the crime of killing another cat, let alone a clanmate, is an impossible sin, it is one that under these special circumstances can be forgiven if Eagleburn works hard to prove his loyalty to the clan," continued Oatstar, tail tip flicking back and forth. "I won't listen to any protests about this. This was the decree of StarClan--and we shall not defy them."

He knows how to talk big when he feels like this, Dappleddusk thought to herself, and wondered how many times Eagleburn had coached him through past speeches. How much of it was Eagleburn, and how much of it was Oatstar? Was that cat even capable of individual thought?

She felt deafened, numbed to the whispers in the camp and did not try to quiet her clanmates again, and luckily, it did not seem to perturb Oatstar. She imagined he was feeling better knowing Eagleburn would soon be back to clean up his messes.

"Eagleburn will be reinstated at the next light of dawn. If you disagree with this, then..."

Hearing a flicker of hesitance in his voice, Dappleddusk glanced up. She could tell this was off-script, newly thought of, and focused on one particular set of cats. She followed his gaze, and it landed upon Bayspots' kits.

"You are welcome to leave. No warrior that chooses to go will be harmed, but they will not be allowed to return to DawnClan. Not if they can't stand by its decisions."

Like a river waiting to overflow, the camp burst into chaos.

Sandfeather, seemingly about to cool down, yowled her fury, barely held back by Sparrowshadow and Suntuft. Leopardchaser seemed pleased, smug even, but was wisely stepping out of swiping range of Sandfeather as he went to the warriors' den.

In the distance, Dappleddusk caught a glimpse of Brightstorm shrinking back away from her devastated kit, and when she looked away, back to the Great Oak, Oatstar was already clambering down.

"Oatstar, you cannot just--"

"If they want to make decisions, they can make decisions out on their own."

Oatstar cut off her whispered hiss with a sharp murmur back, his ears flat to his skull as he stalked swiftly off to the medicine cats' den before anyone could intercept him.

Shocked, dismayed, and caught in a rare state of uncertainty of what to do, Dappleddusk caught her daughter's eye again, and Beewatcher's gaze seemed to reflect her same internal anxiety.

[tandemunicycle]

I felt nostalgic about some old warrior OCs.... so I redrew them all! Didn’t realize how many related characters I made until I connected them

[frostbite-711]

All of these are ship based images. If you want to know more about each individual ship, just ask (some of them are just honorary and never saw the light of day).

[ijustkindalikebooks]

Today's library haul.

[dawngen]

With a thick tension in the air, Brightstorm tenderly followed behind Suntuft and Eagleburn back to camp. In the fleeting seconds prior to Eagleburn's arrival, she had naively hoped that maybe, just maybe, she could lie to Bayspots. Two of these kits looked so much like her, and none looked even slightly similar to that of Eagleburn. She could say it was a delayed blessing from StarClan, maybe convince her that it was some strange happening that was not to be questioned.

But as she looked to Eagleburn, who held one of the four now-quieted kits from his mouth, she knew it was impossible.

"I--well--" As if she were facing down a roaring Monster thundering down upon her, Brightstorm, confronted by Eagleburn, lost all her words. Suntuft was bristled against her, protectively standing over her still-recovering sibling.

Eagleburn lifted his tail, indicating a desire for silence.

"I won't out you to Bayspots," Eagleburn said softly, "As I'm as much to blame as you. I..."

He hesitated, and sensing Suntuft's aggression, he took a step back to provide the two she-cats room.

"I care deeply for you, Brightstorm. I always have. I never would want to hurt you."

Brightstorm loathed how her heart sang at those words. She was so deprived of affection from Bayspots that those simple words from Eagleburn had her feeling head-over-paws, and she ached from the bittersweet knowledge that there was one cat who cared for her so deeply, but it wasn't the one she had made her vows to.

"We don't have time for this." Suntuft's voice was sharp, piercing the tension and cutting off the two. "Whatever you two have going on, it's none of my business, but we don't have long until sunrise. Will you help us?"

Brightstorm blinked, surprised at her sister's bold question. Eagleburn had said he would not out her to Bayspots or the other cats, but he never implied he would help. These were his kits, certainly, but he just as much to lose as her among their peers were their affair to be revealed. He would be better off cutting his losses, and leaving Brightstorm to do damage control.

Hesitantly, she peered back at Eagleburn from her sister, noting his contemplative look.

Finally, he nodded.

"... Yes. Tell me what to do."

And thus brought them to their present moment. Some cats had already begun to exit their dens by time they entered camp, and Brightstorm keenly felt their eyes upon her. Pelt burning hot, Suntuft bumped their shoulders together, and she blinked in appreciation.

"What is going on?"

Beewatcher pulled herself out of the medicine cat den, followed by Eagleburn's sister, Grayfade.

Eagleburn, who had taken the lion's share in carrying two of the kits, gently set them down, and spoke before either she-cat could try to summon up their practiced story.

"These are my kits," he said with such confidence that Brightstorm was rattled by it, staring on, gobsmacked, as he faced their clan with tail held high. With a flash of envy for his courage and unwavering confidence, she watched as he continued to speak to their enraptured audience.

"I had met with a rogue she-cat once, but... as we all know, it was enough." He bowed his head, and gently licked the brown-dappled kit blindly squirming around his paws on its head. "We agreed the kits would be safer here. I understand the consequences that may come from this."

By the end of his speech, more cats entered the clearing, and most importantly, Oatstar made an appearance. Brightstorm studied their leader keenly, gauging his sleep-dazed reaction as one of the warriors whispered to him what had gone on in his absence. He seemed confused and surprised, but she did not recognize any hints of displeasure or anger. Striding forward, Oatstar joined the other cats gathering around the trio.

"Suntuft, Brightstorm, is this true?"

Brightstorm straightened, doing her best to hide how sore she felt. Beewatcher studied her with interest, and Brightstorm felt her skin prickle beneath her pelt.

"Yes," Suntuft cut in, "Brightstorm was helping me to the dirt place when we found Eagleburn talking to a she-cat. We helped him bring the kits here afterwards."

Shame left Brightstorm uncomfortably warm. These were her kits, and yet, she could not manage to speak as everyone around her took control. She merely nodded along her confirmation, head bowing.

"... Well, leaf-bare is coming, and we already have so many mouths to feed..." Oatstar seemed hesitant, and Brightstorm's stomach plummeted. He had allowed Suntuft's kits! So many cats from this clan were not from it, and such was how they kept their bloodlines strong and diverse. Would he truly turn away these helpless kits?

"Nonsense."

Grayfade's stern voice broke in, and the fluffy gray-and-white she-cat lashed a solid gray plume of a tail.

"Leaf-bare is a rough season for us all, but it is no reason to turn away kits. Don't forget that these are your deputy's kits--they'll be strong and courageous warriors one day, just like Eagleburn."

Ears flattening, Oatstar did not seem pleased with this interjection, and for a moment, Brightstorm wondered if this would be the one time he put his paw down. But soon, he conceded, and quietly nodded. Relief rushed through Brightstorm like the warmth of the sun. Eagleburn's expression was unreadable, and while she knew he could not have seen Oatstar's hesitation, surely he sensed it.

"Suntuft, you're the only nursing queen right now. Would you be okay with suckling these kits?" Grayfade asked, and without missing a beat did Suntuft nod.

"Yes, of course. I had a small litter anyways."

Murmurs rippled through the clan as the three cats, now including Grayfade, scooped up the kits to take them to the nursery. Brightstorm tried not to think of how badly she wished to remain with them there, rather than turning them over to Suntuft, but she knew it was for the best. Especially given Eagleburn's sacrifice, knowing the potential fallout from their clanmates...

Looking around, a tiny, fluffy bundle kept in her mouth, she froze.

Bayspots sat in the mouth of the warriors' den, coolly watching the ongoings of the morning. When their eyes locked, Bayspots held her gaze for only a second before she turned away, going to have a word with Squirrelbite.

Brightstorm's stomach sank, and with ears and head lowered, she slunk after her sister and the others to drop off the kits.

[dawngen]

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.

"It's time to rest, Darkstar."

[dawngen]

Never in her life had Brightstorm felt so many emotions. Not even when realizing she was bearing Eagleburn's kits. Not even when seeing Bayspots's corpse not too long ago. No, standing outside of the medicine cats' den with a thick lump in her throat, she could not even begin to define all of the feelings ripping through her.

The anguish, the worry, the fear--none of it was good.

"What is it, Brightstorm?"

Dappleddusk's voice split through her frantic thinking, and Brightstorm lifted copper eyes to meet the temporary deputy's fierce yellow gaze.

She bowed her head, nervousness making it easy to be subservient.

"Is it... okay if I have a word with Eagleburn?"

Dappleddusk eyed her with incredible scrutiny, which Brightstorm could not blame her for. Bayspots was her mate--was, oh how that term hurt her heart--and Eagleburn as her murderer should be the source of her ire. She was a likely suspect for any case of revenge against the tom cat.

"It's about his kits," she lied, thinking quick on her paws as she tentatively glanced up.

"It's fine, Mother."

Beewatcher surprised both she-cats as she pulled herself up to the maw of the den, her calm blue eyes studying Brightstorm. Brightstorm looked away. She didn't care for how knowing the younger she-cat's look was. How was it every other cat beside her had such wisdom and knowledge, while she felt like she was barely treading water?

"I'll have Primpaw watch them."

Dappleddusk didn't look wholly convinced, but when Beewatcher gently bumped her with her head, she conceded with a dramatic sigh, ears flattening.

"One wrong move, Brightstorm, and I'll let Oatstar know we have two cats under investigation," the she-cat growled, and with relief, Brightstorm quickly nodded.

"Of course, I understand," she meowed, shooting Beewatcher an appreciative glance. Much as she could not bear the fact that her secrets were perhaps not that well-concealed, she could not deny the fact that Beewatcher had done her a massive favor. Quietly making a mental note to bring the finest fresh kill to the medicine cats' den for the next moon, with another bow of her head, she slipped past Dappleddusk, and followed Beewatcher into the belly of the medicine cats' den.

"He's back there," Beewatcher instructed. "I need to check in on Sandfeather. Call Dappleddusk if you need any help."

Internally, Brightstorm winced. She had not forgotten her daughter's utter devastation. She had also not forgotten the dirty looks she had received when she had parted from Bayspots's vigil to head here, unable to sit all night with these questions gnawing at her. She should be a dutiful mother, monitoring her daughter's shock and consoling her other kits while managing her own grief, but as she slowly padded to the back of the den, she knew she wouldn't be able to focus on anything else but Eagleburn.

"What about Primpaw...?"

"I lied. I know you two need a moment of quiet by yourselves. As I said, call Dappleddusk if you need anything."

Caught between appreciation and guilt, Brightstorm nodded, watching Beewatcher take her leave. After a long moment, and a stabilizing deep breath, Brightstorm continued into the den.

As if awaiting her, the blind tom-cat was sitting neatly in one of the prepared beds, ears pricked forward and listening.

For a moment, her courage failed her, and Brightstorm stopped. Maybe she shouldn't know why this had happened. Perhaps it was better to believe Eagleburn.

"It's okay, Brightstorm."

The she-cat flinched as Eagleburn's gentle voice split the silence. Slowly peering up, she felt awash in guilt for how his words soothed her.

"Come and sit."

Tentatively, she found mobility again in her paws as she slowly slunk forward, maintaining some distance as she settled nearby, tail tucked tight over her forepaws.

"I assumed you would come."

Brightstorm didn't answer, still battling her guilt.

"I want you to know that none of this is your fault," gently Eagleburn continued, and Brightstorm looked elsewhere. "This was going to happen no matter what."

"... Did Bayspots know?"

Softly, Brightstorm finally spoke, but she still could not look at him.

"Had she found out?"

For a long, silent moment, Eagleburn did not answer, until finally, he said, "Yes. The moment the kits were brought back to camp, she knew."

Brightstorm thought the world would give away beneath her paws. How stupid was she to believe she could ever hide this betrayal from Bayspots? What a fool she was, convincing herself that somehow, she could raise these kits and keep her mate all at once. That... and she knew she would want to keep Eagleburn as well. She wanted it all. And StarClan punished her for it.

Breath hitching, trying not to sob, struggling as she was to hold back her tears, Eagleburn sensed what was coming without her making a single sound. Rising from his nest, Brightstorm knew she should pull away, knew she should deny this, especially as Bayspots's body was still cooling out in the clearing, but she couldn't help it. The warmth of his flank met hers, and she buried herself against him, hiding her face in the comforting nook of his broad shoulder as the first sob wracked through her.

"There was nothing you could have done," Eagleburn softly assured her, tail wrapping around Brightstorm. "It'll be better this way."

Better? How was any of this better? Her mate was dead, and not only was she dead, but she had died at the claws of her affair partner. She had died wounded by Brightstorm's betrayal. Brightstorm did not deserve 'better', but she couldn't bring herself to vocalize all of this guilt knotting so tight inside of her chest.

May StarClan have mercy on them both.