RippleClan: Moon 70, Part 1
Weedfoot and James happily welcome their next (and last) litter into RippleClan.
[Image ID: Weedfoot and James watch over a red newborn and black newborn, with Weedfoot saying “I love them so much… but I’m not doing this to my body again.” Under her, it says - CONDITION: PREGNANT, + CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH. Under the red kit, it says NEW PLAYER: LIGHTNINGKIT, 0, FEMALE, SELF-CONSCIOUS. Under the black kit, it says NEW PLAYER: COBALTKIT, 0, FEMALE, QUIET.]
(Lightningkit: 0, female, kit, self-conscious)
(Cobaltkit: 0, female, kit, quiet)
(Weedfoot: 119, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)
(James: 146, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)
Tallowpaw and Slushpaw are apprenticed to Lavendertwist and Paleseed. Mitespark earns her name.
[Image ID: Tallowpaw and Slushpaw have their apprentice sprites, while Mitespark has her adult sprite in the middle. Under Tallowpaw, it says LEVEL UP! TALLOWKIT -> TALLOWPAW, SKITTISH -> NERVOUS. Under Mitespark, it says LEVEL UP! MITEPAW -> MITESPARK, INSECURE -> CHARISMATIC, QUICK TO MAKE PEACE -> GOOD MEDIATOR. Under Slushpaw, it says LEVEL UP! SLUSHKIT -> SLUSHPAW, POLITE -> WISE, + NEW SKILL: BATS AT STRING.]
(Tallowpaw: 6, male, historian apprentice, nervous, splashes in puddles)
(Mitespark: 12, female, artisan, charismatic, good mediator)
(Slushpaw: 6, female, mediator apprentice, wise, quick witted, bats at string)
Rattlepelt glares at Littlekit and his littermates from across camp.
[Image ID: Rattlepelt stares at Stormkit, Sandkit, Littlekit, and Yellowkit. Under Stormkit, it says + NEW SKILL: LOVES TO EAT. Under Sandkit, it says + NEW SKILL: INTERESTED IN CLAN HISTORY. Under Littlekit, it says + NEW SKILL: SPLASHES IN PUDDLES. Under Yellowkit, it says + NEW SKILL: QUICK TO MAKE PEACE.]
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Were Weevilkit and her sisters as cute as Waspdawn’s sons and daughters when they were that little? Sure, Weevilkit was still technically a kit, but she was practically an apprentice in her eyes, and Waspdawn’s litter was so… little!
Weevilkit, Wolfkit, and Anchovykit watched as Stormkit, Sandkit, Littlekit, and Yellowkit made piles of sand. Stormkit’s fur had darkened exceptionally fast in the last moon, leaving her a dark ginger molly standing out against her white and golden littermates. She sniffed and batted at her sand pile while Sandkit buried his face as deep as he could. Weevilkit couldn’t tell if Sandkit was white or an impossibly pale cream tom, but he did, in fact, look like the sand around him. Littlekit and Yellowkit worked together to build as big a sand pile as they could manage. It was about their height, but whenever Littlekit tried to put more sand on, the pile crumbled. Weevilkit couldn’t help laughing when they squealed in dismay.
The older kits were in charge of watching Waspdawn and Estherfern’s litters run around camp while the caretakers expanded the apprentice’s den, arguing about how to best move the large boulder that made the back wall. There was no chance of keeping Estherfern’s kits in once place; they were scattered around camp, investigating as much as they could. Thunderkit and Foamkit demanded to help the caretakers, much to Mosspounce’s woe. Brightkit and Wolverinekit sniffed around the warrior’s den, daring the other to enter. Weevilkit had no idea where Boughkit had run off to, but since no one was panicking, she didn’t worry.
Weevilkit, Wolfkit, and Anchovykit were the only kits taking their kitsitting duties seriously. Potterykit, Moonkit, and Vervainkit were talking with Tallowpaw and Slushpaw about what it was like to be apprentices. The other six kits were either denying the morning’s arrival or basking in the newfound spring warmth. Weevilkit and her friends knew better, though. The kits needed protection only they could provide. They stood watch a short ways from Waspdawn’s litter, sitting like little warriors at vigil.
“There she is,” Wolfkit whispered, nodding to the artisan’s storage den. Rattlepelt emerged from the darkness, the snout of her fox pelt the first thing to see the light. Weevilkit’s stomach flipped. Did no one else see the hate in Rattlepelt’s eyes? How had she not seen it before Anchovykit told her what he saw? How could she be the daughter of two of the Clan’s most beloved mollies?
“She’s just as creepy as usual,” Anchovykit muttered, sneering.
“What do you think she’s doing?” Weevilkit wondered.
“You’re the one who has premonitions,” Anchovykit huffed.
“I think she was testing some of the old baskets,” Wolfkit explained. “You have to take apart any that have faded too much.”
“She probably loved destroying something,” Weevilkit growled softly.
“Remember Tempestshade, though?” Anchovykit sighed. “They didn’t like being cursed either. Maybe Rattlepelt’s the same.”
“I don’t trust her,” Weevilkit huffed.
She was right not to. As Rattlepelt stood outside the storage den, her eyes settled on Littlekit, who tried balancing on his back paws. Stormkit jumped onto her little sand pile and howled like a wolf. Sandkit copied her, howling along.
“Wolves outside camp!” Littlekit yowled. “Help me, deputy!”
“Yes, Littlestar!” Yellowkit cheered. Littlekit and Yellowkit charged at their brother and sister. They tackled the pair off their perches with dramatic battle cries.
All the while, Rattlepelt’s glare hardened. Her breath grew heavy. Her eyes were huge, unblinking, dilated so wide they seemed black rather than copper. Her snake-like tail curled behind her, wound tight and shaking.
The premonition began. A sparkling, transparent Rattlepelt launched out from where the real Rattlepelt stood. Her fox pelt tumbled to the sand. Rattlepelt’s sleek form charged into Stormkit, the red kitten’s future tumbling out of her real body. The ghostly Rattlepelt’s sharp fangs dug into Stormkit’s scruff. She lifted the kit, barely a moon old, high. She shook her head violently, like one might shake a rat to death. Future figures of the other three kits screamed in silence as Rattlepelt let go of Stormkit. Stormkit’s limp body flew into the stones and brambles that formed the camp wall. The premonitions had no voice, but Weevilkit could feel her denmate’s bones shatter at the impact. Her chunky body laid limp against the rocks.
Rattlepelt’s foggy form set against the other three kits as the adults, finally aware of the bloodshed, ran to the litter’s defense. A powerful blow there, a strong bite to the skull there, the kits were too small, too scared, they couldn’t get away, their ghostly blood splattered against the sand as all of RippleClan fought to pull Rattlepelt back, unheard caterwauls of bloodthirsty glee reverberating from her—
“No!” Weevilkit screeched before the premonition could end. She ran at Rattlepelt as fast as her untrained paws could carry her. Wolfkit and Anchovykit scrambled to catch up, the imprisoned energy of an entire moon of careful watch released. Rattlepelt took a step forward, claws out. Before the awful vision could unfold any further, Weevilkit launched into Rattlepelt and dug her teeth into the artisan’s bony shoulder.
Rattlepelt yowled as Anchovykit head-butted her side, making her stumble into Wolfkit. Wolfkit flung her paws wildly, reckless claws trying to cling to thin skin. Weevilkit dug deeper and deeper into Rattlepelt’s shoulder until she tasted blood. The sharp, salty taste suddenly reminded her of Rattlepelt and Carnationspeckle, showing Weevilkit and her sisters a pot of hard-to-produce salt, allowing them each a taste. Where did that Rattlepelt go? What sort of curse could bury her passion and fire under so much anger?
“You mangy, flea-bitten piles of bear-shit!” Rattlepelt screeched. She flailed wildly under the three young bodies. Her fox pelt fell over Wolfkit. Weevilkit slid off Rattlepelt’s sleek shoulder, but latched back onto her front paw, preventing her from swiping at Wolfkit. Anchovykit grabbed her other front leg. Something black pooled under his fangs.
Panicked and outraged yowls filled the camp as the adults finally realized their furless artisan friend was under attack. Downstar appeared from the nursery, where she had been meeting with Weedfoot as she rested from kitting. Downstar grabbed Anchovykit and pulled him off Rattlepelt. The black substance vanished as soon as Anchovykit’s jaws unclenched, leaving another bite-wound. Mosspounce dragged Wolfkit away, trapping her in the fox pelt. Someone grabbed Weevilkit by the scruff.
“No!” she cried as the figure wrenched her off Rattlepelt. “I won’t let you hurt them! They’re so small! Why would you do that? You’re a monster! You’re a monster! You can’t hurt them!” Weevilkit’s captor, Waspdawn, dropped her in the sand beside Anchovykit and Wolfkit. Half the Clan gathered around them, yowling and gasping at the blood on Rattlepelt’s gray skin. Waspdawn hissed at her like an enemy warrior. Weevilkit gagged at the blood in her mouth.
“Who attacked who?” Rattlepelt spat as Wildclaw shoved through the crowd. She sniffed her mate’s wounds.
“What were you thinking?” she growled, lips curled, glaring at the three kits. Wildclaw licked the deep bite on Rattlepelt’s shoulder.
“Just take me to Troutpool,” Rattlepelt snapped, pulling her shoulder away. She marched toward the medicine den, fox pelt abandoned. No one dared stand in her way. Wildclaw ran after her, shooting claws from her eyes toward Anchovykit, Weevilkit, and Wolfkit.
“You three,” Waspdawn hissed, short tail thrashing. “Walk. That way. Now.” He shoved Anchovykit toward the dirt-place path. Weevilkit and Wolfkit hurried alongside their friend, braving the shocked stares of the Clan as Waspdawn escorted them to their doom.
“I’m not doubting you acted for a good reason,” Wolfkit whispered, voice shaky, “but what did you see?” There were no words in Weevilkit’s mouth; only blood and the memory of cat flesh.
Waspdawn herded the three kits around the shipwreck and into the quarantine den. Anchovykit puffed himself up under Waspdawn’s furious gray glare, matching the codekeeper’s expression. Weevilkit could still hear the Clan yowling and debating what had unfolded, yet lacking answers. Downstar herself appeared around the corner, emotions hidden under a sharp and studious gaze.
“Explain yourselves, right now,” Waspdawn growled, unafraid to show his claws. The kits said nothing. Anchovykit and Wolfkit glanced at Weevilkit. “This isn’t a game! You just attacked a Clanmate, and I want to know why!”
Why? Why? What could Weevilkit say? Had she not acted, Waspdawn would be mourning at least one of his cute little kittens. He should be thanking Weevilkit for saving their lives!
“Weevilkit, what were you yowling about?” Downstar asked, her voice far more controlled than the golden codekeeper’s.
Flesh. Cat flesh, bleeding into her mouth. It was so wrong. Not in a supernatural sense, but… was that what warriors did? Bite into the flesh of other cats as easily as they would prey? Would Weevilkit have to do that again if she hoped to protect her friends, her family?
“Weevilkit, say something,” Wolfkit begged.
“Wait a moment!” Honeybuzz hurried into the den with something long dangling on his back. Weevilkit broke out of her stupor when she realized Honeybuzz was carrying a dead snake.
“Honeybuzz, shouldn’t you be helping Rattlepelt?” Downstar asked as Honeybuzz set down the snake.
“And what is that?” Waspdawn huffed. He nudged the snake.
“Carnationspeckle caught this rattlesnake before it could bite a member of her patrol yesterday,” Honeybuzz explained. “It’s the only venomous snake that lives near the Clans.” Weevilkit peered at the dead beast. Its gray scales were so much like Rattlepelt’s skin…. “I’ve been wondering if it was an omen related to Rattlepelt. I was going to speak to her this morning, but you three needed to see her more, it seems.”
“Weevilkit had a good reason!” Anchovykit yowled, standing in front of his friends.
“Then why won’t she tell us?” Waspdawn hissed. “And why did you two join her?” Wolfkit stared at her paws. Honeybuzz gently nudged Anchovykit aside. With Weevilkit being small for her age, and Honeybuzz being one of the lankiest cats she knew, the cleric loomed over her like a giant pine. Yet he crouched, lowering himself to Weevilkit’s level.
“Weevilkit,” Honeybuzz said softly, “you can tell me why you attacked Rattlepelt. Whatever the reason was, I’ll listen. I know you. You’re cocky, but not vicious. Anchovykit and Wolfkit listened to you for a reason. What was it?”
“She…” Weevilkit gulped. Her tongue felt too big for her mouth, bleeding and smooth like Rattlepelt’s flesh. She couldn’t stop tasting blood. “Rattlepelt’s cursed. She was going to hurt them. They’re so little, Honeybuzz! What have they done to hurt her? They’re innocent!” StarClan, Weevilkit’s voice couldn’t break now! She was the leader of this strange trio, she had to be strong! She couldn’t cry in front of Honeybuzz, in front of Downstar! “She was so cruel. I couldn’t let her kill them.” Honeybuzz nodded along while Waspdawn’s tail thrashed derisively.
“Who do you think she was going to hurt?” Waspdawn huffed.
“Your kits!” Weevilkit cried, gagging on her tongue. “She was going to kill Stormkit. It was awful, Honeybuzz! It was awful!” She couldn’t stop shaking, no matter how much she wanted to. Anchovykit growled, his warrior’s courage burning brighter at the reason for his first battle. Wolfkit stared at Weevilkit and Waspdawn, horrified. Waspdawn curled his puffed-up tail close to himself, holding tight to his confidence posturing, even as it cracked.
“How can you know that?” Downstar asked, creeping closer.
“Because she sees the future!” Anchovykit snapped, his whole body turning into one giant puffball, standing strong under the hard looks of the adults. “She saw it happen, and she stopped it! And she’s right! Rattlepelt is cursed! There’s ichor all over her and only I can see it! I swear it’s real! And Wolfkit, she’s special too! Show them, Wolfkit!” Wolfkit flinched at her name.
“I don’t want to get in more trouble,” she gulped.
“Wolfkit,” Downstar huffed, the caution in her tone vanishing. “Show us.”
“Like we practiced, Wolfie,” Weevilkit managed to say, swallowing hard through her fear. Wolfkit nodded, head barely moving. She stared at Waspdawn with as confident a stare as the scared fuzzy molly could muster. Waspdawn’s tense shoulders froze. He paused mid-breath. The sudden absence of his heavy breathing shocked everyone in the den. Downstar and Honeybuzz gawked at Waspdawn. Downstar waved her tail in front of Waspdawn’s face, but he did not react. Honeybuzz put his paw on Waspdawn’s side, and still he did not move.
“Wolfkit can freeze you in place!” Anchovykit explained. Wolfkit blinked hard. Waspdawn snapped back to life, jumping at Honeybuzz’s sudden touch. “We’re all special, and we’ve been making sure Rattlepelt’s curse doesn’t hurt anyone!”
“This sounds like something from an ancient story,” Downstar muttered as Waspdawn fought to collect himself.
“I believe you,” Honeybuzz said.
“What?” Weevilkit gasped. The horror gripping her throat slipped away. Her heart still burned, but she could breath.
“I believe you three,” Honeybuzz said, nodding and turning to Downstar. “Downstar, do you remember the prophecy I received a few moons ago, the one I brought up to Estherfern after her arrival? It was about blessings and curses. Estherfern theorized it was about StarClan and the Dark Forest, and I think she’s partially right. I think these kits are the blessings from that prophecy.”
“That can’t be true,” Waspdawn muttered, but he no longer sounded confident in himself.
“We have stories of strange abilities in our history,” Honeybuzz pointed out. “If the historians tell those tales, they have to have happened. The other clerics might know more about it, but I believe StarClan wanted to make sure I help these kits.” He believed them. He believed them!
“Say this is true,” Downstar huffed, closing her eyes and collecting herself. “We’ve been ignoring something else the kits have been saying. Anchovykit, how do you know Rattlepelt is cursed?”
“I see curses,” Anchovykit explained. “Well, I think. I also see blessings too, maybe. Oilstripe’s eyes glow, and Weevilkit and Wolfkit, there’s this little shine to their pelts. Other things glow too, like the medicine den and the clerics, but not always. I think it’s when you’re doing rituals or something.” Weevilkit didn’t know she glowed! The world must look so pretty from Anchovykit’s eyes. “Rattlepelt is different. She has this black mud all over her legs, and it never stops flowing! Her eyes look weird to me too. I know they’re supposed to be copper, but to me, they look bright yellow.” Downstar froze, but not because of Wolfkit’s gaze.
“Yellow eyes?” Downstar gulped.
“It was different from when I saw Tempestshade in my dream,” Anchovykit said. “Oh, uh, I saw them too. It’s how I learned what it is I see!”
“Honeybuzz,” Downstar gulped, ears and whiskers flattening. “The Shardling.” Honeybuzz cocked his head for a moment, confused. Then his expression mirrored Downstar’s, tail tucked and back arched. Waspdawn backed out of the den.
“What’s a Shardling?” Wolfkit hesitantly asked. Downstar took a shaky breath.
“Has anyone told you three about the Rippling Ashes?” she asked. “It happened shortly before you were born. Weedfoot, Darkkick, and Paleseed entered the Dark Forest to fight Autumnstar, who had cursed all of AshClan. Weedfoot destroyed his spirit in the battle. When a Dark Forest spirit dies, they break apart into monsters called Shardlings. They house small elements of emotion and memory leftover from the former spirit. One of Autumnstar’s Shardlings attacked Weedfoot and gave her that scar on her leg.”
“Rattlepelt was right next to her when that happened,” Waspdawn gulped, claws digging into the sand outside. “She was wrapping her wounds.”
“So the Shardling cursed her?” Weevilkit guessed.
“We don’t think Rattlepelt is cursed, Weevilkit,” Honeybuzz said, fighting his own fear to speak. “We think she’s possessed.”
“Like a ghost?” Wolfkit yelped, sticking close to Weevilkit.
“That’s why her mood has changed so much,” Downstar gasped, shaking her head. “StarClan, I… I would never have known. Autumnstar had yellow eyes. Anchovykit, you’re seeing the Shardling’s eyes when you look at Rattlepelt.”
“Cursed, possessed, I want to stop it,” Anchovykit snapped. “If you believe us, can you help us hold her down?”
“What would that do?” Waspdawn asked.
“I thought I said it already,” Anchovykit said, lifting his chin high. “I don’t just see curses. I can remove them, too.”
(Weevilkit: 5, female, kit, bullying, curious about StarClan)
(Wolfkit: 5, female, kit, polite, curious about StarClan, confident with words)
(Anchovykit: 5, male, kit, charming, curious about StarClan)
(Stormkit: 1, female, kit, noisy, loves to eat)
(Sandkit: 1, male, kit, self-conscious, interested in Clan history)
(Littlekit: 1, male, kit, skittish, splashes in puddles)
(Yellowkit: 1, female, kit, noisy, quick to make peace)
(Rattlepelt: 53, female, artisan, bloodthirsty, leather artist)
(Wildclaw: 62, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)
(Waspdawn: 36, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)
(Downstar: 129, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)
(Honeybuzz: 18, male, cleric, daring, constantly fiddling with tools)