Fogstalker soothed her disappointment over the failed mediation with Luna by craning her neck back to count the snowflakes that began to fall one by one and trying to catch a few on her tongue. The wind barely stirred them as they drifted from the chalky grey clouds overhead and it was easy to hop forward or stall for a step to snag one out of the air.
This occupied her for a while, but as they approached the barn on their way back, the chilly air seemed to thicken somehow. She felt like someone was behind her, watching intently, somehow sinister. She dropped her gaze from the clouds and looked around, suppressing a shudder.
“Do you feel that?” she asked.
“Hm?” Floodstrike seemed to only have just remembered she was there. “Feel what?”
Floodstrike took a moment to tilt his ears around, to breathe and observe the area before responding. “It’s probably those cats up there,” he said, nodding in the direction of the empty lot beside the twoleg den. Fogstalker looked and sure enough, there were a group of cats huddled in the lightly dusted snow, watching them approach. There were probably six or seven all together, some of them with notched ears.
“Oh, maybe,” she said, but the answer didn’t feel right. She could have sworn the thing was behind her.
“Let’s just keep walking,” he said, shivering in the cold. “They’re probably just hanging out there.”
As they drew closer, the cats shifted uneasily, talking amongst themselves, although the sound was swallowed by the falling snow. After a moment, three of them got up and began moving to cut her and Floodstrike off. Floodstrike’s body tensed beside her, but she hopped a half step forward to try and meet them before he did.
It wasn’t until they were close that she noticed something was off about them.
They had varying pelt patterns -- a ginger tabby, a dingy-white-furred cat, and a dusty brown one -- but they all had a dark stain of grime from their chins to their chests, as if they had dipped their necks in filth. As far as she could tell, it was just dirt, maybe ‘oil’ like Ghost had told her about, but the sight of it made her feel dizzy and sick to her stomach for some reason.
“Whatcha doin’?” asked the ginger tom, cocking his head to the side. He had a notched ear and a scar over his left eye that gave him a perpetual squint. “Goin’ out to wild territory in the middle of a snow storm?”
“Yep,” said Fogstalker, trying to push through her discomfort and do her job. “Just heading back home. What about you?” She meant it in a friendly way but the gaggle of toms seemed to take it as some kind of threat.
“They’re wild cats,” said the white one as if he’d caught them in a lie. The stain on his chest was the boldest of the three and Fogstalker tried to resist the grimace she wanted to make when she saw that it went all the way up to his gums, like he had opened his mouth in whatever substance he’d used to make it.
“This one’s definitely the traitor’s little bastard,” said the dusty one, tail lashing.
Fogstalker squinted in confusion. The traitor? Did they mean Ghost? Who had he betrayed? It took her way too long to realize they must have meant Sardine.
Luckily, Floodstrike was much quicker on the uptake. Before she had even finished processing, he was stepping in front of her with his tail arched in warning and saying, “We don’t want any trouble. Just leave us alone, alright?”
“What if we want trouble?” sneered the white one. “You think of that, smart guy?” Floodstrike rolled his eyes a little, lip curling in unimpressed contempt.
“I’m a mediator,” Fogstalker said, frightened despite herself. “We were here for, uh,” she tried to remember the word Scorch had taught her, “diplomatic purposes. We have a truce with the Speaker, you can’t attack us.”
“The Speaker is dead,” declared the white cat, “long may he reign.”
“Long may he reign,” the other two repeated in chorus. This was clearly something they’d said before and the way they said it sent shivers up her spine. They weren’t talking about Rudy, were they? No, she didn’t think so, and the implication there deeply unsettled her.
Floodstrike let out an uneasy growl. “Don’t do something you’ll regret,” he warned, unsheathing his claws and puffing up his thin fur. The snow was coming down thicker now, big and fat and wet. It settled over their backs and added to the chill growing in Fogstalker’s bones. It created a bubble of sound, their voices stopping a few tail lengths away, no other sounds reaching them through the storm. It made her feel suddenly and intensely isolated.
“I- I can’t fight!” Fogstalker hissed under her breath to Floodstrike. She was a mediator! She wasn’t supposed to lift a claw, even if she’d been trained to do so.
The rogues looked at each other as if making a decision. The white one took a step forward and-
The second he moved, Floodstrike struck out and jabbed him right in the throat with the butt of his paw. The tom coughed violently and stumbled back and the others bristled furiously in shock. Floodstrike took advantage of the momentary pause and lunged for the next nearest cat, slashing out at the ginger tom’s eyes. He managed to draw blood on his brow and it dribbled into the tom’s eyes as he pulled back, blinking, a noise of disgust escaping his throat.
Floodstrike wasted no time in turning on the dusty one, snapping with his teeth at the tom’s throat. The rogue scrambled back with a frightened yelp and Floodstrike pursued him a step with a series of quick strikes from his paws. It became clear to Fogstalker that he was focused on keeping them back, away from her.
The white one snarled, having caught his breath, and swept in with an overhead swipe. Floodstrike caught it out of the corner of his eye and spun around so that the swipe barely nicked his leg, then turned that momentum on his attacker and went for another jab to the throat. The white tom was prepared this time and fell back a half step, then lunged again, but Floodstrike didn’t fall back with the typical dance of a battle. He kept moving forward, head ducked, and the other tom crashed into him, being hit once again in the throat by the crown of Floodstrike’s head.
He choked and lost his footing, tumbling into the snow, and Floodstrike bore down on him with teeth and claws bared. He tore the cat’s ear in his teeth, raked his claws over the front of his neck and chest. The tom screamed and writhed beneath him, making shapes in the thick, wet snow.
“Get off him!” the dusty tom cried in distress and reared up to bat at Floodstrike’s head and Floodstrike fell back, taking up a defensive stance just in front of Fogstalker.
“I warned you,” he snapped, spitting out blood into the snow. “Back off.”
“Fucking, savages!” the cat’s ears were pressed against his head and his tail bristling. “Just get out of here! Shit!” The white one was rolling to his feet, shaking blood from his dingy white pelt onto the stark white snow.
The ginger tom growled in frustration and threw in, “Yeah, go back where you belong, degenerate scum.”
Fogstalker was frozen for a moment as her brain caught up with what had happened. But Floodstrike interrupted with a, “Come on, let’s go,” which pulled her out of her stupor.
“Yeah, okay.” She slank along beside him as they skirted the others and quickly trekked out into the snow. It wasn’t long before the rogues disappeared into the haze of the falling snow.
“That was close,” Floodstrike grumbled.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help,” she said glumly.
“It’s fine,” he flicked an ear to dismiss the apology. “You’re a mediator. I get it.”
“You were amazing, though,” she brightened a bit. “That was so cool!”
He chuckled bashfully and flicked his tail against her side. “Thanks. I did feel pretty cool.”
“I love the throat punch!” she went on, bouncing in her steps now. “Just ‘cha!’ and bam!” She punched out a paw of her own and laughed, her steps wobbling so that she careened into him before bouncing back to her own path. He laughed and shook his head and that creeping sense of dread she had felt started to melt away.
Still, she thought, that felt significant - their black stained throats. It made her queasy for some reason. Definitely something to talk to Goldenstar about…
Now that Fog and Slate are grown up, I can post the second height chart! Turns out RisingClan is full of tall kitties and I didn't realize until Aldertail how tall they were.
By the time they returned to camp, the sun was setting and Pantherhaze was starting to feel feverish. His vision had slightly improved but he felt so ill that he kept his eyes closed anyway. Oddstripe gave him some dandelion leaves and told him to get some sleep and Fogstalker said she was going to try and find something to cast a protection spell, whatever that meant. He thanked her anyway and eagerly went to bed.
That night was all in and out, shifting restlessly between confusing, fleeting dreams and half-wakefulness. At one point, he thought he heard Fogstalker and Slateheart arguing in whispers nearby but, by the time he woke, he wasn’t sure.
“How are you feeling?” Russetfrond asked when he managed to hobble out of the den in the late morning.
“Um…” Pantherhaze squinted around the camp. His vision had mostly returned to normal, although certain patches of grass felt like they were fuzzy, in two places at once. His paws were still clammy and despite having overslept he had very little energy.
He settled on, “I’m hanging in there.”
“Fogstalker says you got cursed?” Russetfrond said, raising a brow skeptically. “Sparrowsway says he didn’t get a good look. What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Pantherhaze said genuinely. He let his vision fog as he tried to recall details about the incident. “The coyote had been scratching things on the ground and it was threatening Fogstalker and… I don’t know, I just got the feeling that it was about to do something so I threw myself in the way and then…” He frowned, his head tilting towards his shoulder, gaze falling over the blurry grass. “There was a big flash of light and I felt sick to my stomach, like I’d been thrown from a high place suddenly and, when I opened my eyes, everything was double.”
“A flash of light?” scowled Russetfrond. “No one else mentioned a flash of light.” Pantherhaze looked up to see him sheathing and unsheathing his claws in thought.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “that’s just what I saw.”
“It’s alright,” sighed Russetfrond. “You just focus on feeling better, okay?” He gave Pantherhaze a few licks around the ears and Pantherhaze closed his eyes and sighed into the feeling. It had been a while since they’d shared tongues. He missed it.
After a moment, Russetfrond pulled away and said, “I’m off to check on the boys training but I’ll check on you when I get back, yeah?”
“Okay,” smiled Pantherhaze, shivering suddenly. Russetfrond gave him a concerned frown and touched noses with him before heading out.
Pantherhaze got breakfast, then went back to Oddstripe who confirmed that he did, in fact, still have a fever.
“Get some rest,” Oddstripe told him. “Let me know if you feel any worse, okay?”
“Okay,” he said, feeling weary and disappointed. He wanted to do something for the Clan, not be laid up in bed. Still, he reasoned that the sooner he got better, the sooner he would be back to helping out. So he went back to bed.
Fogstalker was there, lifting up the moss of his nest. “Oh! Sorry,” she said. “I was just putting a ward under your nest to help you sleep.”
“A ward -- that’s like a spell?” he asked, feeling very warm under his fur.
“Yeah,” she said. “Oh, is that okay? Sorry, I should have asked.”
“It’s fine,” he said, too tired to care.
Fogstalker smiled apologetically. “Okay. I’ll hurry up.” She finished arranging poppy petals in a little circle she had drawn into the dirt. In the middle was a small pile of crushed thyme and the smell was honestly very soothing.
She dropped the moss back down and smoothed it out, then turned to him and said, “There you go. That should help you sleep peacefully. Hopefully it can flush whatever Hui-che did to you out of your system.” She winced and gave him a little, hopeful shrug.
“Thank you,” he said, moving to settle into his nest. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with the coyotes.”
“It’s alright,” Fogstalker sighed. “I don’t think I approached it right. I’ll figure it out.” She shrugged again. “Get some sleep.”
“Okay,” he said, curling up into a tight little ball. He took slow deep breaths and tried to relax and soon enough he drifted off to sleep.
---
Pantherhaze was standing in a thick, white fog, or rather a tunnel made of fog. The walls and floors and ceilings were fog, yet when he took a step forward or poked a wall with his nose it gave resistance as if it were moss instead. He opened his mouth to scent the air but the only smell was fresh water.
For lack of something better to do, he started walking. He came to a fork from which split two identical fog tunnels. He cocked his head, glanced back and forth between them, and tried a cautious, “Hello?” His voice was swallowed by the walls, leaving him in an unnerving quiet.
“Hello?” he tried again, louder this time.
Nothing. He sighed and tried to pick between the tunnels, looked over his shoulder and considered going back, when suddenly--
“Hello?” the faintest sound of a raspy voice carried down the tunnel on his left.
“Hello?” he said, ears snapping upright. He quickly made his way down the tunnel towards the voice. “Hello, there?”
“This way!” the voice was getting louder. “I’m here!” It sounded like a tom and that tom sounded relieved, elated maybe.
“I’m coming,” called Pantherhaze. He took another turn and suddenly found himself nose to nose with another cat, much sooner than he had expected given the volume of his voice. Shock hit him like a pawful of water to the face.
“Darkmoon?!” he gaped, eyes wide.
In front of him stood the former EarthClan deputy, his speckled black fur slightly rumpled and unkempt, adorned with a coating of glittering stardust. Darkmoon stared back with a naked surprise that Pantherhaze had never seen him wear when he was alive.
“Pantherhaze?” he croaked. “Oh, no. Are you dead too?”
“I- I don’t think so,” said Pantherhaze, suddenly worried. “I thought I was just having a dream.”
“A dream…” Darkmoon mumbled to himself, eyes roving erratically over the tunnel walls. Pantherhaze’s brow furrowed in concern.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Darkmoon twitched an ear dismissively. “You look solid. Not like the rest of us.” He looked Pantherhaze up and down after he said it, like he was confirming what he’d said with himself.
“The rest of us?” Pantherhaze asked. “Are we in StarClan?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Darkmoon shook his head. “Come, I’ll show you. But stay close. It’s a maze. You’ll get lost if you’re not… not careful.” His eyes flickered over the space some more, only increasing Pantherhaze’s level of concern.
Before he could say anything, Darkmoon turned around and headed deeper into the tunnel, muttering to himself. The walls seemed to swallow the words and, as Pantherhaze followed, he realized their pawsteps made no noise either. He wondered -- if this was real -- how long Darkmoon had been in these strange, silent tunnels.
“Up, here,” Darkmoon grunted beneath a tunnel that went into the ceiling and hopped up, claws shedding scraps of cloud as he hoisted himself up. Pantherhaze looked down the featureless tunnel ahead of them with a growing unease in his stomach.
“Hurry up!” said Darkmoon impatiently. “Don’t get lost.”
“Right! Sorry,” Pantherhaze called with an apologetic smile and hopped up behind him.
After a few more turns, he started to hear very soft voices.
“-eventually. We have to be close to finding a way out.”
“Maybe. Or there is no way out.”
“No. No, there has to be a way out.”
Darkmoon took a right at a fork and suddenly, they were in a small, round chamber with several branching paths splitting off of it. The two cats snapped to attention as they saw him, one of them freezing where he had been pacing.
“You’re back,” he said, identifying himself as the first voice. He was a smallish, young-looking, masked brown tabby with sharp, green eyes. The cat behind him was larger and well built with a flat muzzle and white fur that made it hard to distinguish him from the wall. They both glittered with pinkish starlight. When the first tom’s eyes landed on Pantherhaze, they widened, and he added, “and with company.” Both of the toms tensed slightly.
“This is Pantherhaze,” said Darkmoon, stepping to the side to let him in. “He’s a Clan cat like me. Pantherhaze, this is Harley. That’s Twister.”
“Nice to meet you,” Pantherhaze said, slightly reeling by the sight of more cats in this strange place -- loners to boot.
“He doesn’t look dead,” observed the larger cat -- Twister.
“No,” Harley agreed, eyes narrowing calculatingly. “No, he doesn’t. What brings you to the Clouds, friend?”
Pantherhaze blinked. “The Clouds? Like literally?”
“Yes,” Darkmoon nodded. “You’re supposed to travel through them to StarClan but without our guides, we got lost.”
“Without your guides?!” Pantherhaze’s tail bristled in concern. “What happened to them?”
“They were attacked,” said Harley. “By a cat twice Twister’s size.”
“Razor,” growled Darkmoon.
“Razor?! He- Okay,” he was trying to stay on board with everything but he was learning a lot in that moment. He’d always been told that cats outside the Clans ceased to exist after death but here he was, talking to two loners who were dead about a dead rogue who had attacked their StarClan guides -- or, was it just guides? He shook his head, overwhelmed.
“He killed mine,” Darkmoon said. “Turned him to stardust in one swipe. I… I ran, like a coward.” He looked down at his paws in shame and Pantherhaze frowned sympathetically.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Harley soothed, stepping closer. “We did what we had to do.”
“Yeah,” nodded Darkmoon. “Right.” He seemed shaken, despite his attempts to calm himself.
“So how did you get here, again?” asked Twister, pulling them back on topic.
“Oh!” Pantherhaze blushed in embarrassment. “I… I’m not sure. I just went to sleep and woke up here?”
“That’s- That’s it?” frowned Harley. He wore a petulant little scowl that completely took over his face.
Twister flicked Harley with his tail who glanced at him and seemed to remember himself. He shook his head and pulled a more relaxed expression onto his face, but the calculating edge returned to his eyes. He cocked his head to the side and approached Pantherhaze to get a closer look at him.
“Are you… here? Like physically?” he asked and then, without waiting for a response, raised a paw to bat at Pantherhaze’s ears. Pantherhaze flinched backward but Harley seemed satisfied by the result. “No, look at that, I passed right through him.”
“Interesting,” frowned Twister.
“What does that mean?” Darkmoon growled, mostly to himself.
“I don’t know,” Harley squinted and began to pace again. “This is quite the puzzle…” Pantherhaze blinked a few times, completely overwhelmed by everything that was happening, but let Harley think instead of asking questions.
After a moment, the tabby stopped and asked, “How long has it been? Like what time of year is it?”
“It’s hard to tell the time here,” Darkmoon added, looking at Pantherhaze.
“Oh, uh, let’s see…” he thought aloud. “You died at the end of Newleaf, right? Now, it’s nearly Leafbare of the same year.”
Darkmoon sighed in relief, a tiredness evaporating from his eyes. “Not too long then.”
“Leafbare,” Harley frowned, “which season is that?”
“Uh, the one with snow,” Pantherhaze offered, and Harley nodded seriously.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “Let me think.” There was a long stretch of quiet where Harley paced and muttered to himself, his voice being soaked into the clouds around them, and the others sat and watched.
Eventually, Harley said, “Okay. I think we just don’t have enough information. What we need is for you to try and figure out how to get back here again and see if we can learn something about it when you do. Until then, we keep trying to map the tunnels and see if we can figure anything out on our own.”
Twister rolled his eyes. “Great, so the same as always.” Harley’s tail rippled angrily and he pressed his mouth into a thin line as if he were trying to resist a scowl which seemed to amuse Twister greatly. Pantherhaze glanced awkwardly at Darkmoon but the former deputy was frowning at the floor, lost in thought.
Harley spoke again. “Does that sound like something you can do, uh…”
“Pantherhaze.”
“Yes,” Harley smiled. “Panther Haze. Do you think that you can try and help us out?”
“Sure,” Pantherhaze said, straightening up with the responsibility. “I mean, I’ll try.”
Harley’s smile flattened slightly in frustration but he nodded. “Well, I suppose that’s all we can ask for.”
“StarClan,” Darkmoon said.
“What?” Harley’s ear twitched as he raised a brow.
“You have to tell StarClan,” said Darkmoon, looking up at Pantherhaze. “The River of Stars. Someone has to let them know we’re here, maybe they can find us.”
Harley shifted awkwardly. “Maybe… We don’t know what they would do to Twister and I.”
Pantherhaze frowned and took a step closer. “They won’t do anything to you, I’m sure. I’m sure they would help you try and… get wherever you were supposed to be.” He screwed his mouth to the side as he tried to think about what that would actually be. This whole interaction had left him with so many questions about an afterlife he had never really questioned before.
“We’ll see,” said Harley, clearly unconvinced.
“StarClan will know what to do,” Darkmoon said determinedly.
Harley sighed. “If you say so. Let’s just hope something changes soon. I don’t know how much longer I can-”
Pantherhaze sat up in his nest with a sharp gasp.
“Sorry!” winced Yellowpaw around a mouthful of moss, his hind paw shooting up and away from Pantherhaze’s tail.
Behind him, Bluepaw tensed. “Yellowpaw! I told you to be careful!” It looked like they were in the middle of changing out the nests.
“I said I was sorry!” whined his brother. “It was an accident!”
“It’s fine,” Pantherhaze said quickly, lurching to his feet. “What time is it?”
“Uh, nearly sundown, sir,” Bluepaw said, straightening his posture.
“Is Goldenstar around?”
“I think she’s getting ready to leave on patrol,” Yellowpaw said.
“I have to speak with her!” Pantherhaze hurried towards the entrance to the den, then turned around suddenly and added, “Don’t touch my nest, okay?” Both of the boys flinched in surprise.
“Uh- okay!” Bluepaw said. “We won’t!”
“Thanks,” sighed Pantherhaze. If Fogstalker’s ward had done anything, he didn’t want to mess with it. He had to try and get back to the others somehow.
He hurried out of the den, slightly nauseated but energized by his mission, and cast about for sight of Goldenstar. He eventually caught sight of her talking with Russetfrond and Branchbark on the edge of camp and he threw himself into motion to close the distance between them.
“Goldenstar!” he shouted, completely devoid of any concern for how frantic he looked. All three cats turned to look at him with varying degrees of concern and surprise on their faces.
“Pantherhaze, is everything okay?” she asked, stepping towards him.
“The boys didn’t wake you did they?” scowled Russetfrond.
“No, they’re fine,” he lied immediately. “That’s not important. I had a vision!” All three cats started.
Goldenstar asked, “A vision? What happened?”
“I’ll get Oddstripe,” Branchbark offered and bounded off to the Healer’s den.
Pantherhaze watched him go but didn’t wait to answer Goldenstar’s question. “I don’t know exactly what it was, it didn’t feel like a sign from StarClan or anything. I woke up in this strange place, they called it the Clouds, I think…” He frowned, trying to remember the little details of his encounter.
“They?” asked Russetfrond. “Who’s they?”
“Oh! That’s the crazy part!” said Pantherhaze. “Darkmoon! A-and a couple of loners, dead ones.”
“Darkmoon?!” Goldenstar gaped. “But it wasn’t a sign from StarClan?”
“No,” he shook his head. “He said that- that Razor had killed his StarClan guide? And he and the loners were stuck in this place between here and StarClan.”
Oddstripe and Branchbark arrived at that moment and Oddstripe’s big eyes were wide with amazement. “A place between here and StarClan?”
“Razor killed a StarClan guide?” growled Russetfrond uneasily. “After death?!”
“Apparently,” Pantherhaze said to both questions. “And whatever guide was supposed to take the Loners wherever they were going.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Branchbark said. “Loners and rogues are destroyed when they die.”
“Well, I might have dreamed it all,” said Pantherhaze, “but it felt weirdly real. Darkmoon told me to send someone to talk to StarClan and see if they can find them from the other side.”
“Darkmoon? Oh, this is fascinating,” said Oddstripe. “I’ll gladly go and talk with StarClan. Please, tell me everything, from the beginning.” He laid his tail over Pantherhaze’s back and started to guide him towards the Healer’s den.
“Of course,” he nodded and fell into step.
“Do you think this has something to do with the coyotes?” Goldenstar murmured to Russetfrond as they left.
“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “I’m skeptical but this feels too strange to be coincidence.”
“We should tell EarthClan,” she said. “Send someone to fetch Stormwhisper.”
“On it,” he said, and the two parted, Goldenstar bounding to join him and Oddstripe.
“I have a feeling you’re going to be answering a lot of questions for a while,” said Goldenstar with an apologetic smile.
“That’s alright,” Pantherhaze said. “If I can help, I want to.”
“Just let me know if you feel unwell,” said Oddstripe. “Your recovery still takes priority.”
“Alright,” he said, but he honestly couldn’t feel a single symptom. He was tired, sure, but he’d been completely revitalized by his vision. Despite the troubling implications, this was exciting. This was the kind of thing they told stories about! He just hoped he would be able to get them all to a happy ending.
“You’re hiding something from me,” Fogpaw stated as she and Scorchplume came back from their evening stealth training session.
Her mentor looked over her shoulder and cocked a brow skeptically. “Oh, really? Whatever gave you that impression?”
“Well, first off,” said Fogpaw, “You’ve been weirdly quiet all day and, secondly, you’re talking extra fancy which means you’re putting effort into how you talk which probably means you’re being careful about what you say.”
Scorchplume laughed and said, “I’ve taught you too well.”
“So what are you hiding?” Fogpaw cried, jumping to come shoulder to shoulder with her.
“Nothing,” Scorchplume said with a dismissive wave of her tail.
“Nuh-uh!” Fogpaw insisted. “You just admitted you were being careful about what you say!”
“No I didn’t,” said Scorchplume in her performatively offended voice. “Those words never came out of my mouth.”
“But-! You basically said that!”
“Did not.”
“What are you hiding!?” Fogpaw groaned. She could tell that Scorchplume was being deliberately obtuse to avoid answering her question. Determined to get answers, she decided to start throwing out explanations and seeing what got the biggest reaction out of Scorch.
“Is it… bad news?”
“Mm.” Scorch didn’t even glance at her. It probably wasn’t that.
“Okay, it’s good news,” nodded Fogpaw.
“Who said that?”
Fogpaw growled in playful annoyance but otherwise ignored the comment. “Okay, good news, good news… Are you pregnant?”
Scorchplume spluttered and stopped walking immediately. “B-gh-What?!”
Fogpaw was startled by the intensity of her reaction. “Well, you’re mates with Yarrowshade now, I thought maybe-”
“First of all,” blustered Scorch, “we are not mates-” (“Oh, okay.”) “-and second of all, I can’t have kittens. I’ve been caught by the twolegs, remember?”
“Oh, yeahhh,” Fogpaw frowned. “Okay, so it’s not that.”
“It’s not anything, Fogpaw,” insisted Scorch, resuming the walk back to camp. “You should really just drop it.”
“But it’s clearly something or you wouldn’t be trying so hard to make me drop it.”
“Fine,” Scorch gave in, and for a split second Fogpaw’s stomach fluttered in triumph, “think what you want! But I’m telling you, there’s nothing important going on today.”
“Wait, so it’s an event?” Fogpaw gasped and Scorch laughed and rolled her eyes.
“You’re reading too much into things,” she said.
Just then, they crested the hill into camp and Goldenstar’s voice called out, “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Stoneperch for a Clan meeting!”
Fogpaw gasped again and her eyes snapped towards the Stoneperch where Goldenstar was smiling at them. Beneath it sat Slatepaw, her fur brushed up in excitement, and Fogpaw realized very suddenly what Scorch had been hiding. She looked back at her mentor and found a smug grin across her face.
“Well, we certainly don’t want to miss that, now do we?” she said.
“Oh my stars,” Fogpaw shouted, “I can’t believe it!”
“Volume,” winced Scorch and Fogpaw blushed shyly.
“Whoops. Sorry.”
“Fogpaw, come on!” called Slatepaw. Scorch gave her a shoulder shove and sent Fogpaw scrambling down to sit with her sister in the front of the crowd. A few of the cats gathering around chuckled and she couldn’t tell if they were laughing at her but she chose to believe they weren’t. These were her Clanmates, her friends. They wouldn’t do that.
“Can you believe it?” she asked Slatepaw.
“I know, right?” grinned her sister. “We’re going to be warriors!”
“Yeah,” Fogpaw’s smile fell a little bit. She had been thinking about that lately, about what she wanted to be in life, and she had been planning for this moment. She hoped that Slatepaw wouldn’t be upset by what she was going to do.
She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, however, as Goldenstar began the ceremony proper.
“Well, I think we all know why we’re gathered here today,” she said, smiling down at the apprentices. “Slatepaw and Fogpaw have trained long and hard and their mentors have both reported that they are more than ready to receive their warrior names.”
Behind them, trying to be quiet but not going unnoticed, someone said, “Careful, careful. You alright?”
“I’m fine,” grunted a voice that Fogpaw instantly recognized as Ghost’s. She whipped around to see Jagg guiding him down the slope into camp. He winced with every step, leaning heavily on her shoulder as they walked.
“Dad!” Fogpaw beamed, her tail shooting up to greet him and he gave a pained smile and nod.
“Focus,” whispered Slatepaw self-consciously, looking sidelong at her as she stayed focused on Goldenstar. Fogpaw laughed nervously and turned to sit upright like her sister. She would have to say hello to Ghost later.
Goldenstar, at least, didn’t seem upset and continued without issue. “Today, we honor you both and how far you’ve come. I, Goldenstar, leader of RisingClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these two resilient apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn.”
She hopped down from the Stoneperch to join them in front of the crowd, her head raised nobly, and said, “Fogpaw, Slatepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”
“I do,” they both said, exchanging an excited glance.
“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Slatepaw, from this moment on, you shall be known as Slateheart. StarClan honors your kindness and devotion to your Clan and we welcome you as a full warrior.”
Goldenstar stepped forward and rested her chin on Slateheart’s head and Slateheart licked her shoulder as the warriors cheered her name. Fogpaw joined them, hoping to cheer the loudest of all. Slateheart blushed and preened under the praise as she stood back, tail swishing demurely over her paws. Fogpaw opened her mouth to congratulate her sister but Goldenstar turned to face her and continued the ceremony.
“Fogpaw,” she said, “from this moment on, you shall be known as Fogstalker. StarClan honors your bravery and conviction and we welcome you as a full warrior of RisingClan.” Purring, she dipped to lick Goldenstar’s shoulder and the crowd cheered again. Floodstrike in particular calling out her new name with enthusiasm.
Fogstalker turned in a circle to see the crowd’s faces, to smile at her Clanmates. Scorchplume had a warm smile on her face that made her heart soar. Floodstrike, Barleybee, and Sparrowsway were all sitting side by side and Floodstrike grinned toothily as she looked at him. Near the back of the crowd, she could see Jagg and Ghost sitting together and Ghost was even smiling a little, although it looked almost like he was wincing.
She turned to smile at Slateheart and her sister smiled back and that was when she realized that someone very important was missing. She looked at an empty space near the front of the crowd and tried to imagine her mother sitting there and smiling too but she couldn’t get the shapes to stay in place or look right.
What did her mom look like again? Surely her face wasn’t exactly like Slatehearts, right? She frowned slightly and Slateheart seemed to realize what she was thinking, laying her tail over Fogstalker’s flank quietly.
“Well!” Goldenstar’s voice pulled their attention back up to the front, “I know you just got back from training so why don’t you both get something to eat, take a bit of time to talk with your loved ones, and then you’ll start your silent vigil.”
“Wait,” Fogstalker blurted. Goldenstar blinked in surprise.
“Fogpaw!” Slateheart hissed quietly, only catching herself after she had said it.
Fogstalker wasn’t deterred. “Goldenstar, I’ve been thinking and…” She glanced back over her shoulder at Scorchplume whose brow was furrowed uneasily. “I think I want to be a mediator. Like my mom.” The words felt right as she said them and she nodded confidently as she turned back to face Goldenstar.
“You’re sure?” Goldenstar asked. “You don’t have to make that decision now, you know.”
“I know,” Fogstalker nodded, standing straighter. “I’m sure. I want to help people like she did. I want to be a mediator.”
“Well, in that case,” said the leader, straightening her own posture, “Fogstalker, you have chosen to take up the duties of a mediator. Do you swear to stand apart from the rivalry between Clans and cats and to strive to resolve disputes peacefully, even at the cost of your life?”
Fogstalker took a deep breath and nodded. “I do.” The air was scintillating with magic and she could feel it prickling through her pelt.
“Then by the powers of StarClan,” said Goldenstar, “I place this responsibility on your shoulders and welcome you as a mediator of RisingClan.”
There was more cheering. Fogstalker couldn’t help but feel like this round of cheers was quieter. She looked around to find Scorchplume and Russetfrond both silent. Even Floodstrike was more subdued this time around. To her dismay, she realized that Slateheart wasn’t cheering either. She met her sister’s gaze in confusion and Slateheart looked away.
“With that, our meeting is adjourned,” said Goldenstar to the crowd. “You two get something to eat, I’ll come grab you when it’s time for your vigil.”
Goldenstar sighed slightly but nodded, beckoning him towards her den with a curl of her tail. As they left, the crowd moved to congratulate the sisters but Fogstalker couldn’t help but lean in to Slateheart.
“Hey,” she whispered, “what’s wrong? Why weren’t you cheering for me? Are you angry?”
“I don’t know,” Fogstalker shrugged, “I didn’t tell anybody, I was just thinking it.”
“But we’re sisters,” said Slateheart, turning to study her face. “You should have-”
“Congrats you cuties!” Ospreymask interrupted cheerily, butting her head up against Fogstalker’s shoulder, causing her to bristle in surprise. “Your warrior names are so beautiful! I love them!”
“Thank you,” demurred Slateheart, leaning in to touch noses with the pregnant warrior.
“Yeah…” Fogstalker hummed distractedly. She wasn’t done talking with Slateheart but, already, more people were swarming closer to try and get their attention, pulling them in different directions.
“Wow, a mediator!” Songdust said, “Your mother would be so proud, kiddo.”
“Yeah?” Fogstalker smiled a little as she turned to face the elder.
“Yeah,” nodded Songdust. “You’re gonna do amazing.”
Floodstrike stepped in to lay his tail over Fogstalker’s back. “You did it, Foggy. You managed to get a half decent warrior name.”
“Half decent!?” she exclaimed. “My name rules!”
“Agree to disagree,” Floodstrike said, winking to assure her it was a joke. She laughed and rubbed up against his chin.
“You two should hurry up and eat,” she heard Sparrowsway saying.
“Oh, right,” blushed Slateheart. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“Maybe we can share with dad!” Fogstalker gasped, turning to try and locate him through the crowd.
“I’ll grab you something,” said Barleybee, “go get settled.”
Fogstalker didn’t need to be told twice. She slipped through the crowd, smiling and nodding as people gave her passing congratulations, and eventually broke away from the throng and bounded the last few tail lengths to meet him.
“Dad!” she purred, moving to rub her cheeks against his “I’m so glad you came! How did you know it was happening?”
Ghost stiffened under her touch but managed to reciprocate after a moment. “Uh, Scorch told us to come.”
“Really?” Fogstalker’s chest swelled with excitement. “That’s amazing!”
“We wanted to be here for your big day,” Jagg smiled. “Congratulations, Fogstalker, a new name is a huge honor.”
Slateheart padded up to join them then, smiling softly. “Thanks for coming, dad.”
“Yeah,” Ghost cleared his throat awkwardly and shifted his weight with a wince. “Happy to be here.”
“You’re wincing a lot today,” Fogstalker observed. “Are you feeling alright?”
“He just has a bit of arthritis,” explained Jagg. “He’ll be okay.”
Slateheart frowned. “Oh, we-”
“We can have Oddstripe give you some herbs for that!” offered Fogstalker brightly. Slateheart lashed her tail once, gaze sinking.
“Thank you,” Jagg said, “both of you.” That made Slateheart smile a little and Fogstalker gave her a friendly nudge.
Shortly after, Barleybee brought some prey across camp for them to share. Fogstalker enjoyed the conversation and the food but it was hard not to think about how Slateheart was upset with her. As Ghost and Jagg bid them farewell, sent home with some juniper berries for his joints, and the Clan dispersed for the night, she approached her sister and tried again.
“Hey, can we talk about earlier?” she asked.
“We have to start our silent vigil,” Slateheart said evasively.
“Right, but we have a second before-”
“Fogstalker, it’s fine,” she said firmly, as if that ended the conversation. “Can we just forget it?”
Fogstalker frowned. “I… I guess, but-”
“Alright, girls,” Goldenstar said as she approached. “Are you ready for your vigil?”
“Yes,” said Slateheart and Fogstalker’s heart sank.
“Yeah, I guess,” she shrugged.
“Alright,” smiled Goldenstar, although she seemed a bit concerned. “You’ll have to stay silent until the sun touches the Stoneperch, or in the case of emergency. Got it?”
“Got it,” they both said.
“Good luck,” said Goldenstar. “Your vigil starts now.” She turned and headed back to her den and Fogstalker’s vision was drawn to where Scorchplume was waiting for her. She tilted her head curiously at her mentor as if to say, ‘why weren’t you cheering?’ and Scorch offered her a smile that was hard to read before slipping into the den.
Fogstalker sighed and began to pace in a wide circle around camp.
UPDATES:
- Fogpaw and Slatepaw graduate to warriors, taking the names Fogstalker and Slateheart respectively.
- Fogstalker requests to become a mediator.
Fogstalker had never been so deep into a forest. She had thought the Cornerstones were thickly wooded but these trees and bushes made them feel breezy by comparison. As Dawnbird led the patrol on a winding path between dry, orange bushes and the thick trunks of skeletal trees, Fogstalker couldn’t help but feel anxious any time the foliage brushed up against her whiskers.
She, Pantherhaze, and Sparrowsway had been joined by Dawnbird -- who had been on the patrol that had sighted the coyotes -- Bogmist, and Orangestar. The group walked quietly, ears straining to try and catch any sounds that might not have been caused by the eerie wind rustling against the few remaining leaves. Fogstalker kept thinking she had caught something moving only to realize it had been the shadow of a branch swaying back and forth. As they walked, her fur began to prickle in a tingling line up her spine.
It seemed that she wasn’t the only one feeling unsettled.
“We’re almost there,” Dawnbird said after scenting the air.
“I don’t like this,” muttered Orangestar. “It’s probably nothing but this is… this is where we killed Razor.”
That made Fogstalker stand up straighter. “Really? That does feel important, somehow.”
“Surely, it’s just a coincidence,” said Sparrowsway.
“I don’t know,” she shook her head. She felt it in her gut, that this was too significant to ignore. If it was Hui-che, there had to be some magical reason she chose the place. She screwed her mouth to the side to think of what it could be.
A sharp yip ahead through the trees snapped her out of her thoughts. The patrol froze, tails bristling.
“Coyotes,” whispered Bogmist.
“Don’t worry,” Fogstalker said, “I’ll handle this.” She padded deeper into the woods, ahead of the patrol. She could see a break in the trees ahead, maybe a small clearing.
“Fogstalker, no!” Sparrowsway hissed quietly but she ignored him.
“Hui-che!” she sang, trying to remember how the notes of it went. “Hui-che, it’s me! Your magic cat friend!” There was rustling up ahead. She glanced back at the patrol to find them all paralyzed. She curled her tail invitingly and said, “Come on, it’s gonna be fine.”
Very carefully, Pantherhaze moved to join her and the others carefully followed his lead, although the EarthClan cats shared a few worried glances. Satisfied, Fogstalker returned her attention ahead of her and ventured calmly through the trees.
“Hui-che, are you there?” she called again.
“Frog-paw?” sing-songed the familiar voice.
Fogstalker couldn’t help but grin and pick up her pace. “Yeah! Although, I have a new name now.” She broke through into the clearing, a small gap between the trees a few fox-lengths across which was made to feel smaller by the two coyotes standing in it. Behind them, against the roots of a large tree, there were signs of digging, the beginnings of a den.
Fogstalker recognized Hui-che instantly, with its ginger points and curious smile, but the second one was completely new to her. He was more grey than it was, bigger than it too, and wore a dark scowl -- or at least, what she thought a scowl might look like on a coyote’s face.
“Hey-lo, friend!” chirped Hui-che. “Good to seeing you again.”
Fogstalker nodded and said, “You too! Who is this?” She jutted her nose towards the second coyote.
“This Auch-lo,” said Hui-che, singing his name with a different melody than its own. “Heart-mate. We nest make-ing here. Good, rotting magic touch-ing here. You feel it?” It sniffed at the ground and grinned, yipping something in its language.
Fogstalker scented the air but didn’t notice anything immediate. There was a slight unease in the air, though, prickling at the back of her neck. “I think so,” she said, “but I’m not as good at hunting it as you are, I think.”
“Mm,” Hui-che nodded. “Show-ing you, sometime.”
“Yeah, okay,” Fogstalker smiled. Orangestar cleared her throat, which reminded Fogstalker why she was there. “Oh, yeah! I came to talk with you on behalf of my friends.” She gestured with her tail and the patrol behind her shifted uneasily.
“Bee-half?” Hui-che cocked its head to the side, eyes narrowing.
“Um, I talk for them,” Fogstalker tried to clarify, brows furrowing.
“Mm,” Hui-che hummed, shifting its posture.
“This is Orangestar,” Fogstalker said. “This is her territory. Her nest is nearby. She asked me to come talk to you about finding a different place for you to go.”
Hui-che was squinting at her with what felt like a scowl on its long face. “You chase-ing us? Make us run-ing?” It swiped a paw over the ground in front of it, brushing mulch to the side. Behind it, Auch-lo started to circle sideways. Bogmist and Orangestar tensed and adjusted their stances. Fogstalker could feel the tension rising dangerously.
“Well- No, we don’t want to chase you,” she said, stepping closer. “But if you stay here there won’t be enough food for everyone, yourself included.”
“We leave grass nest-ing ‘cause you ask-ing!” yipped Hui-che with a jab of its muzzle towards Pantherhaze. “We friends! But you chase-ing us! All cats chase-ing us!” Again, it swiped a paw through the mulch, clawing twice across the line it had previously drawn, its eyes locked on Fogstalker the whole time.
“I’m sorry,” Fogstalker said. “I know it probably feels like we’re targeting you. But cats already live here, this wouldn’t be a good place for a nest anyway. We can help you find a new nesting spot, though!”
Hui-che seemed to process about half of what she said. Shaking its head, it said, “No. Is perfect nest-ing spot! Strong rotting magic here! Show you!” The patrol was bristling, ready for a fight. She had to stop this now.
“It’s okay,” Fogstalker said, moving closer, “Let’s just calm down, okay?” Hui-che bared its teeth and lifted a paw, glancing briefly down at the mulch at its feet so Fogstalker lowered her tail non-threateningly and slowly blinked at it as she took another step.
“Fogstalker, wait!” Pantherhaze shouted and lunged for her. Hui-che slammed its paw down on the ground just as Pantherhaze threw himself in front of her and Fogstalker gasped at the rush of nausea that flooded over her like a physical wave. Pantherhaze cried out and her tail bristled in fright.
“Pantherhaze? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She poked her head forward to check on him.
“Did it hit him?” Dawnbird asked.
“I don’t think so,” said Sparrowsway tensely. Pantherhaze was grimacing and stumbled back into Fogstalker, pawing at his face.
“Are you okay?” Fogstalker repeated, trying to look at his eyes.
“I- I don’t-” he looked up at her and around the space, swaying unsteadily. “Everything is double.” He blinked heavily, his head continuing to sway and wobble as if unconsciously.
“What did you do?!” Fogstalker turned on Hui-che, feeling tears starting to form in her eyes.
“Show-ing you,” snapped Hui-che. “Magic strong here. You see.”
Auch-lo barked something and Hui-che nodded. “Cats leave-ing. Now.”
“What do we do?” Bogmist asked Orangestar quietly.
“I’m gonna be sick,” moaned Pantherhaze.
There was a long beat before Orangestar said, “Let’s go. We’ll figure out a plan in camp.”
Fogstalker was burning with rage, hot tears spilling down her face. She had to work to pull her claws out of the mulchy earth and start guiding Pantherhaze away. Even as she did, she glared over her shoulder at the coyotes with seething bitterness. Auch-lo had rejoined Hui-che in the middle of the clearing and was licking its muzzle. Hui-che spared Fogstalker a glance and then turned away to start scratching shapes into the ground around the edges of the clearing.
“What happened back there?” Sparrowsway was asking, drawing Fogstalker’s attention back to the others.
“A spell,” she said, choking down her anger. “I don’t know what kind.”
“A spell?” Bogmist frowned. “That’s not- Spells aren’t-” She shut her mouth, frustrated.
“StarClan can do amazing things,” said Dawnbird. “Maybe there are other ways to perform miracles.”
“It’s got to be Dark Forest magic,” said Orangestar, “right? I mean that was where Razor died, that can’t be a coincidence.”
“Razor wouldn’t go to the Dark Forest, though,” frowned Sparrowsway. “He was a kittypet.”
“Maybe it’s just related to death?” Dawnbird suggested, but she didn’t sound sure.
“Are you okay?” Fogstalker asked Pantherhaze again. He’d been quieter than usual, his head ducked and his heart hammering against her side.
“I feel… gross,” he said lamely. “Every time I open my eyes I see double and its swimming and moving. I think I need to lie down.”
“We’ll get back to camp as soon as we can,” she assured him. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“What are we gonna do about the coyotes now?” Dawnbird asked eventually.
“I don’t know,” said Orangestar. “We don’t know what they’re capable of and even if they didn’t have… powers, fighting them would be risky.”
“It’s almost Leafbare,” frowned Bogmist. “We’re gonna be short on prey, especially with two coyotes in our territory. And if they have pups in the spring…”
“Maybe SkyClan will let us fish their rivers again?” Dawnbird said but the other EarthClan warriors shook their heads.
“No, that was a special circumstance,” said Bogmist. “We’re on our own.”
“I’ll talk to them,” promised Fogstalker. “And I’ll see if the other mediators have ideas on how to make peace with Hui-che. I- I’m sure we can work something out.”
“We’ll see…” Orangestar said but Fogstalker got the impression she didn’t have any hope it would work.
Barleybee had been right. Floodstrike didn’t feel any better.
He had watched the light drain from Sardine’s eyes and the only thing he felt was cheated. Maybe if he had been able to sink his teeth into that monster’s neck, tasted his blood and felt his throat collapse between his jaws, he might have been satisfied but the kittypet had practically hung himself and Floodstrike still felt hollow and rotten inside.
He’d gone with the others to the Cornerstones, knowing that alone was the last thing he needed to be right now, but that hadn’t helped much either. Fernspeckle had run off to fetch prey for everyone and Boldmoth and Fishtrick had gone back to their camp with Stormwhisper. He had no idea where Barleybee and Sparrowsway were. Despite being in a crowd of people he was entirely by himself. It was awful.
He was just about ready to call it quits and go home for the night when Fogpaw appeared beside him, a big bloody smile on her face.
“Floodstrike!” she purred. “I was looking for you!”
“You were?” he asked, one brow rising above the other.
“Yeah,” she nodded, settling down next to him. “Scorchplume said I had to go hang out with people my age and you’re the only cat here that I know.”
“I’m like six moons older than you,” he laughed. “I remember when you were born.”
Fogpaw rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, Slatepaw isn’t here and the EarthClan apprentices think I’m weird. Besides, we’re close enough. I like hanging out with you.”
That managed to cheer Floodstrike up just a bit. “Yeah, I like hanging out with you too.”
Fogpaw beamed. She ran her tongue over one bloodstained paw and started trying to groom the rest of the blood from her fur which was difficult, given how white it was.
Floodstrike chuckled and started grooming his own pelt. “How are you doing? Like, with the battle and everything.”
“I’m okay,” she said and seemed to mean it. “I’m really glad Scorchplume let me come help. It was kind of scary but also really exciting, you know?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, remembering the battle where Ospreymask had killed a cat right in front of him. How young and naive he was back then. “It can be a lot to get used to but you’ll get the hang of it.”
“Do you think I’ll get my warrior name for it?” asked Fogpaw.
“I don’t think so,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re probably gonna stay an apprentice forever.”
“I’m serious!” she laughed. “I wanna be a warrior so bad!”
“You’ll get there eventually,” he said, cuffing her ear lightly. “Just be patient.”
“Floodstrike!” the call made him sit up straighter. Fishtrick came out of the crowd, her own white fur stained with blood and dusted with bits of straw.
“Fishtrick!” he grinned and jumped to his feet. “How’s Boldmoth?”
“Her leg is broken,” said Fishtrick with a wince. “Stormwhisper says we probably won’t have to amputate it but it's probably gonna heal crooked.”
“Damn,” he pursed his lips, ears wilting. “I’m so sorry. I was right there, I should have grabbed her.”
“You saved Erminepaw, didn’t you?” Fishtrick twitched her ear. “You can’t be everywhere at once.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed.
Fogpaw inserted herself into their conversation. “If you want, I can give you a charm to help her leg heal properly!” Floodstrike tried not to wince.
Fishtrick looked Fogpaw up and down with a scathing quirk of her brow and said, “A charm?”
“Yeah, like an item with a spell in it!” Fogpaw continued, seemingly unaware of the warrior’s disdain. “It’ll help the bones grow straight!” Fishtrick glanced at Floodstrike with a tiny laugh through her nose.
“She’s just goofing around,” he covered for Fogpaw, wrapping an arm around her neck and giving the top of her head a ruffle with his nose. “Always telling jokes about spells and stuff.”
“No, I’m not,” Fogpaw frowned, throwing his lifeline away. “I’m serious, it’ll help.” Floodstrike wanted to scream.
“I think I’m good,” said Fishtrick in a way that made Floodstrike's skin crawl with embarrassment. She smiled at him with a look that said ‘can you believe this?’ and he laughed instinctively.
Fogpaw frowned and looked between them with an earnest, “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Uh, why don’t you go see what Branchbark is up to?”
“But I thought we were gonna hang out,” she said, ears falling backward.
Floodstrike was acutely aware of Fishtrick’s eyes on him as he replied. “Yeah, well, now I wanna hang out with Fishtrick. I’ll hang out with you later.” Even as he said it he felt guilt wriggling in his stomach and Fogpaw’s pained frown only made it worse.
“Okay, fine,” she said, stepping backwards out of his embrace. “I didn’t wanna hang out with you anyway.” Floodstrike had to clench his jaw to stop himself from apologizing right then and there. Fogpaw turned away and stormed off into the crowd, hunched low, tail twitching. Once she was out of earshot, Fishtrick laughed.
“Wow, some cats just can’t take a hint,” she said and the guilt in Floodstrike’s stomach writhed.
“Yeah,” he swallowed. “I guess.” He would have to apologize to Fogpaw later.
Fishtrick was already moving on. “Did you hear the kittypets are bringing catmint?”
“No,” he said, frowning in confusion. “What for?”
“For fun,” she said. “Like, just to roll around in.”
“Woah, no way.” He couldn’t believe it. His dad had always been so precious with the stuff. The idea of using it so casually was alien to him.
A sudden cheer went up from the southern edge of the crowd and they both turned their attention towards the sound.
“That must be them,” Fishtrick sat up taller, grinning. “Come on, let’s go get some!”
“Okay,” Floodstrike said. He still felt hollow aside from the guilt in his belly but he was willing to try and have some fun. Sticking close to Fishtrick’s tail, he followed her through the gathered cats, weaving through the gaps wherever they could until they hit the thick wall of bodies at the front of the crowd. They could smell the heady smell of the catmint now and the kittypets who had brought it.
The cats closest to them were eagerly waiting for a chance to move forward but, with his height, Floodstrike could see cats peeling away around the edges of the crowd like water parting around a stone. Their eyes were all blown wide and their energy was higher, more unruly. Excitement started to build in the hollow space within him.
A cat at the front of the crowd caught his eye and he said, “No way, is that my dad?”
“Where?” Fishtrick reared up on her hind quarters to follow his gaze.
“There,” he said, leaning in to point with his nose. “It totally is!” There was Oddstripe, laughing with a face covered in catmint particles. Aldertail was leaning heavily on him as they made their way deeper into the clearing.
“Damn!” laughed Fishtrick, dropping back onto her paws. “Get it, Floodstrike’s dad!” He laughed at her phrasing and shoved her with his shoulder.
“Don’t be weird,” he said, “He’s still a healer.”
“So?” she flicked her tail in his face. “Everyone knows Stormwhisper broke the code with somebody, what’s stopping your dad? It’s not like he’s never fooled around before.” She jerked her nose at him as if to say ‘you’re proof of that.’
Floodstrike grimaced. “Do not make me think about that.”
“About what?” she smirked, “about your dad getting all hot and heavy with some handsome stranger?”
“Stop!” he nearly gagged, “What is wrong with you?” She laughed heartily and he couldn’t help but join in.
“I’m just teasing, Floodstrike, loosen up! You’re too easy!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
By now they had reached the front of the group and the smell of catmint nearly burned his nose. There were several kittypets, each with their own little pile of it, making sure that everyone got a good roll but didn’t take more than their share. Floodstrike recognized Wes and Schmidt among them but the rest were all strangers. He and Fishtrick shuffled towards a kittypet with a similar pattern to Fishtrick’s -- all white with a rich, chocolate tail -- a flat nose, and a cobby build.
She waved them forward with a wide grin and said, “You two look like hell!” Floodstrike didn’t know what ‘hell’ was but he glanced down at himself regardless, suddenly reminded of all the blood in his fur.
“The curse of a white pelt,” Fishtrick laughed.
“Wish I’d been there!” the kittypet sighed wistfully. “I’m Binx, by the way.”
“Cool,” Fishtrick said in the same voice she had used with Fogpaw. “Can we get some catmint now or…?”
“Oh! Right!” Binx shook her head with a bashful laugh and swept a paw invitingly over the buds spilled out before her. “Help yourself!” Fishtrick glanced back at Floodstrike before flopping onto her side to roll in the herbs indulgently.
Floodstrike felt awkward just staring at her so he met Binx’s eyes again. “You fight much, Binx?”
“Nah,” she shook her head. “I want to though. I think it’s so cool that you wild cats let girls fight just like boys.”
“City cats don’t?” he asked with a frown. He went over the battles he had seen in his mind, thinking, surely that can’t be true, and realized with a sudden shock that he hadn’t fought a single female kittypet since they ambushed the hunting encampment.
“Not really,” Binx shook her head. “You’ve really got to prove you’re tough for anybody to respect you as a fighter if you’re a girl.”
“Weird…” Floodstrike’s gaze fogged distantly only for Fishtrick to startle him out of his thoughts with a playful swat to the face.
“Floodstrike, you’ve gotta try this!” she said, her pupils big and round.
“Okay, okay,” he laughed, giving her a shove and she batted at him until he surrendered and dropped into the catmint. The smell was intoxicating and he quickly lost himself to the simple pleasure of rolling back and forth in the little pile. When he finally remembered himself and sat up, he shook his head sharply.
“Woo!” he cried, a laugh burbling in his chest.
“What did I tell you!” Fishtrick grinned. “Come on, I bet you can’t catch me.”
“Oh, yeah?” he smirked, dropping into a crouch in preparation.
“Yeah.” She dashed around the edge of the crowd, heading for the Cornerstones themselves and he tore after her, laughing.
Over his shoulder, he distantly registered Binx calling, “O-okay, bye!”
He wasn’t concerned about that for long though. He felt intensely alive, like he could run to the city and back without stopping, like he could catch a hundred mice or jump the river in a single bound. Fishtrick seemed to feel the same and she led him all the way up the Cornerstones to the top of the leaders’ perch. He pounced for her tail as they reached the summit, giddy and out of breath, and she sprang back at him, knocking them both off the back side of the structure.
“Woah!” he cried, twisting to land on his feet and she landed right behind him.
“Fox-dung!” she hissed under her breath, “I think I twisted my paw.”
“Oh, yikes,” he grimaced and leaned in to sniff at the ankle she held tenderly by her chest. “You need to go home?”
“No, it’s fine,” she shook her head. “It's fine. Let’s just take it easy for a bit.”
“Alright,” he nodded, “fine by me.”
Another cheer came from the crowd on the other side of the Cornerstones and Snowstar’s voice barely carried above the din. “Eat your fill! Tonight it’s all on SkyClan!” The crowd cheered again, louder this time.
“That must be Fernspeckle with the prey!” Floodstrike said.
“Oh, I’m starving,” moaned Fishtrick. “Let’s go get some.” He nodded and they made their way back to the throng which was now clustered tightly around a cluster of SkyClan cats. Eventually, they bumped into Fernspeckle who had a patch of cobwebs over his eye and a heavy perch in his mouth.
“There you guys are!” he grinned, “I was just coming to find you!”
“Give me that!” Fishtrick purred hungrily and snatched the fish’s tail in her teeth, shaking her head and swatting at his face to make him let go. Floodstrike laughed and flopped sideways against her, too overcome with enjoyment to stay upright.
Fernspeckle dropped the fish with a mildly concerned smile. “Woah, what’s gotten into you two?”
“Catmint!” Floodstrike grinned, licking the dust of it from his whiskers. “You should try some.” Fishtrick pulled the perch close to her chest and started greedily picking its flesh from its bones, unconcerned with the mass of cats shifting around her.
“What,” Fernspeckle laughed, “you guys steal some from Stormwhisper while Boldmoth was getting patched up or something?”
“No,” Floodstrike shook his head, “the kittypets brought a ton for everyone!”
“Really?” Fernspeckle’s jaw hung open in surprise.
“Yes,” Fishtrick said after gulping down her mouthful of food. “Southern side. Go get some.”
“Fox-dung, okay,” Fernspeckle said, backing up towards the southern side. “Save some of that fish for me!”
“No promises!” Fishtrick shouted after him and Floodstrike snorted with laughter, dropping down to have a few bites of his own.
It wasn’t long before Fernspeckle returned and the three of them started reducing the perch to bones in earnest. Floodstrike had never laughed so much in his life or felt more like he belonged than he did in that moment. He wished that Boldmoth could have joined them but knew that navigating the crowd would likely have been a nightmare for her broken leg.
He was about to suggest they go visit her when a new voice called his name over the noise of the crowd.
Gaping, he turned and said, “Luna.” There she was, trying to smile at him despite her obvious nerves. She held one paw close to her chest, glancing this way and that whenever a cat bumped against her or spoke too loudly. Floodstrike blinked a few times, trying to make sure he wasn’t imagining her.
“Who?” Fishtrick yelled, trying to hear him over a group that had started singing nearby.
“Uh,” that galvanized him into action, “guys, this is Luna!” He hopped up and moved to bump his forehead against hers in greeting. Luna smiled and pressed herself against his side so tightly he could feel her heart thumping madly against his ribs.
“There’s so many cats here,” she said, barely audible above the noise.
“What are you doing here?” he asked at an appropriate volume as he guided her back over to sit with him and his friends.
Luna cleared her throat and stood up taller as if she had to in order to raise her voice. “I wanted to see you!”
“Oo-ooh!” Fishtrick taunted and Fernspeckle joined in.
“Shut up,” he laughed, smacking Fernspeckle hard in the face. He rolled away from the strike and swatted lazily back at Floodstrike.
“Wow,” Luna breathed, “you wild cats are so rowdy!”
“You kittypets are boring,” Fishtrick snapped back and Luna’s silky soft fur fluffed up around her.
“Luna,” Floodstrike said, hoping to move past that, “this is my friend Fishtrick. That idiot there is Fernspeckle.”
“Who you calling an idiot?” Fernspeckle frowned jokingly.
“You, moron!” Fishtrick rolled her eyes and swatted at him. Floodstrike laughed, settling down onto his side.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Luna said politely, still struggling to raise her voice.
“How did you two meet?” asked Fernspeckle.
“She was there when we went to find Songdust,” said Floodstrike as he laid his tail gently against hers. Luna blushed and preened under the touch, sinking down to lay against his side. He purred, struck with how amazing it felt in that moment. He even leaned over to rub his head against hers.
“Wow,” Fishtrick grinned impishly, “you RisingClanners sure love your kittypets, huh?”
Grinning smugly, Fishtrick sing-songed, “Floodstrike and Luna down by the river, give ‘em two moons and she will deliver!”
“What are you saying,” Floodstrike blustered, ears pressed back against his head. Was that a common song in EarthClan or was she just loopy on catmint?
“You know what I’m saying,” she said, leaning in with a snarky wobble of her head. “First Russetfrond, now you. Stars, Goldenstar’s got her own kittypet too, doesn’t she?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Floodstrike dismissed her with an annoyed flick of his ear.
“Isn’t that weirdo, Fogpaw, half-kittypet too?” she pressed. Floodstrike’s stomach dropped into a pit of guilt again.
“No, just half-city cat,” Fernspeckle said, squinting as if he was thinking very hard. “They’re not all kittypets.”
“Guys, stop being horseflies,” Floodstrike said, wanting to squirm. “We’re just friends.”
“Oh,” said Luna, sounding like she was trying to sound unconcerned. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re just friends.”
That caught Floodstrike off guard. “Oh, are we- Did you not-” He searched her face, suddenly worried he had been a jerk and she waved him off with a paw, blushing shyly.
“Oh, no, no, it’s- it’s fine I just thought, since we were having kits together, you know-”
“We’re what?” Floodstrike gaped as his friends hollered wildly at his expense.
“Yo!” Fernspeckle bellowed, holding back laughter.
Fishtrick cackled and rolled onto her back, pointing a vindicated paw at Floodstrike. “What did I tell you! They’re crazy for kittypets out there!”
Floodstrike tried to tune them out as he asked Luna, “Can we talk for a minute?”
“Yeah, of course,” she nodded and they both stood.
“I’ll be right back,” he said distractedly to his friends, wrapping his tail over Luna’s back to guide her away.
“Don’t take too long!” Fishtrick jeered.
“Or do!” snorted Fernspeckle. Floodstrike ducked his head, cheeks burning, and shoved his way through the crowd until they broke out into the chilly woods.
Luna spoke first. “Oh, Floodstrike, I’m so sorry! That wasn’t how I wanted to tell you, I- I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much!”
“It’s- It’s fine,” he said, trying to force his racing mind to focus on her face. “But, wait, are you serious?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, pursing her lips against the smile spreading across her face. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
That hadn’t exactly been his first thought. “I- yeah, I guess so- I just- I feel like-” Like she was springing this on him? Like they had both understood that they were just friends? With a sinking feeling, he realized that he had never had that talk about expectations with her like Goldenstar had suggested. “I didn’t realize you felt that way about me.”
“You didn’t?” blinked Luna. “I thought I was being pretty obvious.” She pouted and dragged her paw through the pine needles on the ground despondently.
“Well- I mean,” Floodstrike blushed and smoothed his chest fur down with his tongue, “I knew you wanted to have sex with me, I just didn’t realize you wanted more than that.”
“Well, of course I do!” Luna looked hurt. “That’s what sex is for, isn’t it? Having kits?”
He puffed up at her tone, extremely confused. “I thought the twolegs- err, your Folk took them away! It’s not like we’re going to raise them together.”
“It’s still a big commitment!” she said, eyes big and round and glistening with the start of tears. “You made me a woman, you’re supposed to take care of me now!”
“I what?!” He couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the statement.
“I thought you were honorable,” she sniffled. “I didn’t think you were some- some ruffian who would use me up and leave me behind!” She was starting to cry now, her expression crumpling with despair and he stepped in to rub his head against hers despite his confusion.
“Hey,” he said, “I’m not trying to abandon you or anything, I’m just confused, okay?” She pressed her head firmly against his, seeming to take comfort in his touch which was a relief.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” she sniffled wetly.
“It’s alright,” he sighed. After another moment he sat back and said, “I’m gonna go grab Goldenstar real quick, okay?”
“Goldenstar?” she sniffed hard to pull a bead of snot back up into her nose. “Wh-why?” She fluffed up again, looking suddenly very worried and he shook his head to reassure her.
“No, it's okay, we’re not in trouble or anything, she’s just really good at this kind of stuff -- talking about it I mean -- and I think she’ll be able to help us like… actually communicate, y’know?”
“Okay…” Luna nodded slowly. She was definitely unsure but Floodstrike was certain that bringing Goldenstar in on the conversation would make everything so much easier.
“Just stay right here, I’ll be back in a flash.” He gave her one more firm press of his head and then bounded back towards the crowd to try and find Goldenstar. It took a bit of time, some asking around, but he eventually found her lounging near the area where the catmint had been given out with Scorchplume, Yarrowshade, and a pair of kittypets, including Wes. The other was a chocolate tortoiseshell who seemed to have fallen asleep.
Goldenstar was purring loudly against Scorchplume’s side as Floodstrike approached, Yarrowshade flopped against hers. He almost felt bad interrupting them but he knew he needed her help right now.
“Uh, Goldenstar?” he asked, hovering closeby. “Can I borrow you for a little bit?”
Goldenstar paused her purring to sit up and stare at him. It took a long beat before she managed to speak. “Oh, Floodstrike. Sure, what’s up?” She stood, dislodging Yarrowshade who moaned in protest, reaching out for her with his forepaws.
“It’s Luna,” he said, “she came to see me and I, uh, need your help talking to her.”
“Um, it’s complicated,” he said, shuffling his paws. “It’s about the stuff we were talking about earlier?” He winced at Goldenstar, hoping she got the message.
She seemed to, understanding dawning in her massive pupils. “Oh. Alright, sure. I’ll be back in a bit, guys.”
“Aww, okay,” Yarrowshade pouted, scooting to snuggle up against Scorchplume instead.
“You big baby,” Scorchplume shoved half-heartedly at his face.
“I’m comin’ too,” Wes said, rising to his feet. “I need to make sure Miss Luna is okay.”
“Okay,” Floodstrike said, his mouth suddenly very dry. “She’s just out behind the cornerstones right now.” Wes started off towards the forest immediately and Floodstrike glanced at Goldenstar worriedly before hurrying after.
When they arrived, Luna flushed with embarrassment. “Wes! What are you doing here?”
“I heard you were here,” he said, moving to sniff at her. “Is everythin’ alright?”
“It’s fine,” she said, clearly still a bit upset from earlier.
“What did you need my help with?” Goldenstar asked Floodstrike, blinking sluggishly at him.
“Well, you know how you said I ought to talk with Luna about, like… expectations and things?” he said. “I kind of… forgot. And now we’re kind of talking past each other and I thought you could help.”
“Expectations?” Wes frowned.
“Yes,” Goldenstar nodded, “for their relationship.” She seemed mildly disappointed and Floodstrike felt his shoulders sagging apologetically.
“Their relationship?” Wes repeated again, this time sounding suspicious.
“Mhm,” said Luna. “Floodstrike and I are mates now.”
“What?” Wes looked at her in shock before he quickly pivoted to fixing Floodstrike with a stern glare.
“That’s the problem,” Floodstrike said, “I thought we were just friends!”
“But we-” Luna pouted on the verge of tears again. “We were… intimate. Just friends don’t do that!” She blushed again, glancing at Wes. His presence seemed to be extremely uncomfortable for her. Wes scowled at Floodstrike as if he had threatened her.
“Sure they do,” Floodstrike felt extremely confused again.
“I think I see the issue,” Goldenstar sighed. “The city has very different ideas about intimacy than we do so you both have very different understandings of what it meant when you had sex.” Luna blushed brightly at the phrase.
“Miss Luna,” Wes said, “if this young man took advantage of you-”
“No, no!” Luna shook her head fervently, “It was my idea, I promise!” She reached up on her tiptoes to try and get onto Wes’s eye level. “I practically had to beg him, please don’t be mad.”
Wes frowned, his eyes twitching over her face for a good long moment before he sighed and said, “Alright. I just wish you’d thought about this more. This kinda thing, it has- it’s not to be done lightly.”
“So, Luna,” Goldenstar cut back in, trying to smile invitingly, “I’m gonna start by asking you about what you think your relationship with Floodstrike means, then I’m going to ask him what he thinks. I want you both to try not to interrupt the other while they’re talking. I’m going to help you sort things out once you’ve both had a chance to talk, okay?”
“Okay,” Luna nodded, chewing her lip. Floodstrike nodded too, trying to take a deep slow breath. Goldenstar was here. It was going to be alright.
“Great,” said Goldenstar, settling down and curling her tail over her paws. “So tell me, when you imagined how things would go, what did it look like?”
Luna sniffled and shuffled her paws and said, “Well, I mean, I thought he was going to be there for me, like a proper mate, especially since… um…” She glanced sidelong at Wes with big wet eyes.
“Since…?” Goldenstar prompted.
“Since I’m… well…” Luna looked away, blushing again.
“Pregnant,” Floodstrike said, just wanting to get this awkwardness over with already. Wes’s scowl darkened again.
“I see,” Goldenstar frowned too. Now it was Floodstrike’s turn to wilt in shame. “When you say ‘a proper mate’ what does that mean to you?”
“I don’t know,” Luna shrugged defensively, “He’d bring me food, protect me, we’d be best friends. And I’d raise the kits and support him.” She shrugged again. “And, I don’t know, maybe he might eventually come to live with me and my Folk.”
That hit Floodstrike like a monster. “What?!” The idea was borderline offensive! “I’m not gonna be a kittypet!” Luna’s lip quivered and Wes laid his tail protectively over her back, still scowling.
“Floodstrike, let’s calm down a bit, okay?” said Goldenstar. “Why don’t you tell me what you were picturing?”
Floodstrike shrugged. “Uh, I don’t know,” he said, looking guiltily at Luna, “I thought we were just having fun. I didn’t realize it was, like… serious.”
Wes sighed. “These things are very serious, son.” Floodstrike balked at the term but Wes continued. “It ain’t honorable to take advantage of a lady like that.”
“But I didn’t take advantage of her!” he protested, “She said so already!” Goldenstar laid her tail over one of his paws but it wasn’t enough to stop him from getting worked up. How was he the bad guy here?
“You might not have meant to,” said Wes, “but usin’ a girl for pleasure and then leavin’ her t’deal with the consequences on her own, it ain’t right.”
“Like I said,” Goldenstar seemed to be making an effort to stay the calm one in the situation, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. In the Clans, there’s no shame in having casual sex like that, especially not shame that falls more on any one gender. Plenty of cats raise kits on their own and are happy to do so. Stars, Ospreymask has been trying to get pregnant for moons and she’s never had any interest in a long term partner.”
“Well, that’s swell for her,” Wes said, starting to bristle, “but it ain’t like that in the city. Havin’ kits is a commitment. Cats who fool around are…” he stopped himself, as if he’d just remembered Luna was listening to him. “It’s irresponsible to treat somethin’ so sacred as a… a cheap thrill!” He twitched an ear to shake off the idea which had clearly unsettled him.
“Sacred?” Floodstrike was even more confused now.
“Yes, sacred!” Luna sniffled, “It’s a holy bond! A gift from the Folk!”
“That’s crazy!” Floodstrike laughed in disbelief.
“Floodstrike,” Goldenstar didn’t manage to interrupt him in time and grimaced. “Let’s be respectful. Clearly this is very important to them.”
“It is,” sniffled Luna. “I thought you were gonna take care of me a-and our kits!”
“And I’m sure Floodstrike is very sorry that he didn’t communicate his intentions clearly from the start, right?” Goldenstar looked back at him with a prompting nod.
“Yeah,” he said, feeling like a leaf drifting down the river. “I’m really sorry, Luna.”
“But you’re not going to step up and do the right thing,” Wes said, a statement more than a question.
“The ‘right thing’ is subjective,” Goldenstar frowned. “If there’s something specific that Luna needs, maybe Floodstrike can help with it, but he shouldn’t have to commit to a relationship just because he got her pregnant.”
Luna started crying again and Wes pulled her close against his side with a defensive glare at the Clan cats. “I’m disappointed in you,” he said, “both of you. I thought you were better than this.”
“Floodstrike was careless,” Goldenstar said firmly, “but he isn’t being cruel. Relationships are messy. It’s an unfortunate situation but you can’t expect him to agree to a commitment he didn’t realize was expected of him.”
“I guess not,” scoffed Wes. “Come on, Miss Luna, let me walk you home.”
“O-okay,” Luna cried into his shoulder, staring at Floodstrike with the most miserable expression he’d ever seen. Despite Goldenstar’s insistence that he wasn’t doing anything wrong in the moment, his stomach still writhed with guilt like he’d swallowed angry snakes. Goldenstar let out a disappointed sigh as the two kittypets disappeared into the undergrowth.
“I’m sorry it went down like that, bud,” she said.
“It’s my own fault for not talking about it beforehand,” he sighed.
“Well, she should have done the same,” said Goldenstar. “You share the blame equally and you shouldn’t beat yourself up about it. They’re making this into a way bigger deal than it has to be.”
“Why, though?” he looked at her with pleading eyes. “Why are they so… weird about this stuff in the city?! First they have rules about only being mates with ‘opposite genders’ and now they’re acting like we broke some kind of code just because I don’t wanna become a kittypet or whatever!”
“I don’t know, bud,” sighed Goldenstar again. “They’ve got some… complicated traditions, to be sure. Come on, let’s go back to the celebration. You’ll feel better when you’re with friends.”
Floodstrike hesitated. “I dunno. Fishtrick and Fernspeckle are gonna tease me so bad. I think I’m just gonna go home.”
“If you’re sure…” she said with a sympathetic smile.
“Yeah, I am,” he said. The break in festivities had left enough room for thoughts about Lakepaw to slip back into his mind and the idea of going right back to pretending like everything was fine just felt wrong.
“Alright,” she said, rubbing her nose against his ear. “You let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“I will.” He took the long way around the crowd, tail dragging in the dirt. The laughter and celebration around him only served to make him feel more alone. He had no doubt Fishtrick was going to tell every cat she could about the news. He wanted to peel his skin off in embarrassment.
And he wanted to make Luna understand that it was gonna be okay. He didn’t want her to think of him as some kind of deadbeat like Ghost. He liked her! He just didn’t like her enough to be exclusive or anything. Was that so wrong? Should he at least try it, for her sake?
The thoughts were clouding around his head as he walked through the ferns until a voice shook him from his stupor.
“Floodstrike? Why are you sad?”
He looked up to find Fogpaw trailing after him. “Oh, uh…” He swallowed and said, “I dunno. Lots of reasons.”
“Oh.” Fogpaw said. There was a pause, then, “Do you want me to walk with you?”
“Yeah,” Floodstrike said, realizing he did as he said it. He stretched out his tail in invitation and she trotted quickly to affix herself to his side.
“Man, when did you get so big?” he groaned.
“I’m almost twelve moons old!” she laughed. “Why does everyone keep forgetting?”
“‘Cause we don’t wanna think about how old we’re getting.”
“You’re not that old,” she scrunched her nose in confusion. “You’re barely half a year older than me.”
“Ew!” he groaned even louder. “Don’t remind me!”
She laughed again and rammed her head against his shoulder fondly. They walked in silence for a moment, the noise of the celebration fading behind them.
His smile faded too and he eventually managed to say, “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier, with Fishtrick. I shouldn’t have sent you away.”
“Why did you?” she asked quietly.
“‘Cause…” How could he say this without hurting her feelings? “‘Cause I’m dumb and I didn’t want you to embarrass me in front of Fishtrick.”
“Why would I embarrass you?” she frowned.
He grimaced again. “I dunno, Fishtrick just likes to laugh at people and I didn’t want her to laugh at me because I’m friends with you.”
“But why would she do that?” Fogpaw pressed. “Is that what was funny before? Were you guys laughing at me?”
“Yeah,” he said and cleared his throat to try and get rid of the lump in it. “I’m sorry, Fogpaw. That was fox-hearted of me.” He couldn’t look at her, only on the stones that were starting to replace the undergrowth as they neared the river crossing.
After a long quiet moment, she said, “It’s okay. I forgive you.”
He let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, kiddo.”
“I’m not a kid,” she huffed and he laughed again.
“Maybe not technically,” he said, “but you’ll always be younger than me and that makes you a kiddo.”
“That’s dumb,” snorted Fogpaw. “If I’m a kiddo, then you’re an elder.”
“Ew! Do not call me that!”
“Whatever you say, old man,” she smiled innocently and he shook his head with laughter.
“Dammit, your mentor taught you too well.”
“Yeah,” Fogpaw sighed fondly and they fell into silence together, walking back to camp under the stars.
“Ohhh, I don’t think I can do this,” Aldertail moaned, pacing back and forth in the Healer’s den as her tail twitched anxiously. It was taking all her self-control and the continued momentum of her pacing to keep her from running her tongue over her legs. They were mostly furred these days, only spotting a patch here or there when her mind got too loud, which was rarer now that the Clans had brokered a truce with the city.
Sitting patiently beside the herb stores, Oddstripe sorted out the dried and dead leaves from his stock, his eyes returning politely to her whenever he didn’t need to look at his paws. If she’d been in a better headspace, she’d have been impressed by how often he could pick out the poor leaves just by touch. Beside him sat Barleybee, sorting the dead leaves into neat bundles to be carried off later.
She said, “Sure you can! I’ll be right there with you whenever you need help, okay?”
“But I don’t know anything about teaching an apprentice!” cried Aldertail, pelt poofing up around her shoulders.
“Neither do I,” said Barleybee with a shrug. “It’s supposed to be a learning experience, that’s what Goldenstar said. We learn how to teach as we do it.”
“But what if I mess it up? What if I mess him up?! Oh, Russetfrond will be furious!”
“You’re not going to mess him up,” Oddstripe said calmly. “Especially not if you ask for help whenever you need it.”
“But-”
“Sure, you’ll make mistakes,” he continued, “but everyone does. You’re not going to make any mistakes you can’t come back from.”
“How do you know that?” she whined, dancing in place like a petulant child. She hated how out of control and needy she felt right now. It was embarrassing!
“Because I have faith in you,” he smiled, focused on her entirely for a long beat. Her face went hot and a different, heart-fluttering discomfort mixed with the panicked one she had been overwhelmed by. Why did he have to look at her like that and say those kinds of things with his earnest face and his big, compassionate eyes? Why did he act like there was something in her worth having faith in?
She pursed her lips and whined anxiously as she turned away from his gaze. “I still don’t understand faith at all. I’m going to be a disaster, I just know it!”
“Aldertail, it’s gonna be okay,” Barleybee said with what Aldertail thought sounded like pity. “Remember, you can ask me for help with anything. We can train together until you feel comfortable doing it on your own.” Aldertail was pretty sure that was never going to happen but she didn’t want to insist on being a burden for the entire mentorship.
Instead, she searched for a different objection. “How am I even going to teach him? I mean, look at him! They’re both practically as big as I am already!”
“It’s gonna be fine,” Barleybee said again, more firmly this time. “Just take some deep breaths, okay?”
“Okay,” she nodded, realizing she was quite breathless. “Okay. It’s fine, it’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be-”
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Stoneperch for a Clan meeting!” The call cut through the quiet of camp, reaching them even down inside the burrow of the Healer’s den.
“Oh, no, oh, jeez,” Aldertail wheezed under her breath, panicking again.
Barleybee got up and came to press her side into Aldertail’s. “You’ve got this. Deep breaths.”
“Okay,” Aldertail’s voice wobbled pathetically but she tried her best to comply.
It wasn’t long until everyone had gathered under the noonday sun for the meeting. Near the front of the crowd sat Bluekit and Yellowkit. They were massive for kittens, almost as tall as their father already and twice as fluffy. Bluekit, despite his coloring, looked quite like his father, if his father were pleasant, especially in the stripes on his face. It was Yellowkit who looked surprisingly like Mystique, with his slouched posture and pale chest fluff. It wasn’t enough to startle or scare Aldertail but it was enough to make her think about Mystique, which was never a necessarily calming experience for her.
As she watched, Russetfrond gave a warning mrrp to Yellowkit who straightened his posture and stopped watching the clouds. They seemed well behaved at least. That was good.
Goldenstar cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention and smiled. “Alright, everyone! It’s with great pleasure that I get to announce that Bluekit and Yellowkit have finally reached the age of six moons and it is time for them to be apprenticed.”
“About time!” Ospreymask jeered playfully, half on her side with her pregnant belly sitting at an awkward angle that must have been comfortable somehow. “They were too big for the nursery moons ago!” Several cats laughed although Aldertail noticed that Russetfrond’s ear twitched in irritation. The kits themselves just seemed a bit sheepish.
Goldenstar chuckled and said, “Yes, I’m sure you’ll enjoy having the space all to yourself now. If I could have the two of you step into the center please?”
Bluekit hopped immediately forward and stepped into the center, checking the placement of his feet before he looked up dutifully at his leader. Yellowkit was distracted by something and Russetfrond had to flick his tail against the kit’s side to get him to follow his brother to the middle.
Goldenstar said, “Bluekit, from this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Bluepaw. Your mentor will be Barleybee. I know she has a lot to teach you and I trust you both to learn from each other.”
Beside Aldertail, Barleybee stepped forward to join Bluepaw in the middle of the clearing and touched her nose to his. She barely had to lean down and he dipped his head politely when they were done, looking excited but restrained. Yellowkit was starting to shuffle anxiously. Aldertail braced herself for the look of disappointment he was surely about to give her.
“Yellowkit,” Goldenstar continued, once the first pair stepped off to the side, “from this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Yellowpaw. Your mentor will be Aldertail. She has learned a lot since she joined our ranks and I’m confident she’ll be able to pass that knowledge on to you.”
Aldertail hesitated and Yellowpaw cast his head about looking for her. When he found her, she smiled nervously and a bit of concern furrowed his brow but he stood up straight to meet her and she was able to force herself to walk out into the middle of the clearing. Her cheeks burned when he had to bend down slightly to touch noses with her and there was a slight electric shock between their noses that left them both rubbing their muzzles with a paw. A couple cats laughed quietly under their breath and Aldertail wanted to explode.
“And with that, our meeting is concluded!” purred Goldenstar. “Congratulations, all of you!” The crowd cheered, some cats chanting out the apprentices' new names, and Aldertail felt small and ugly.
A few cats came in to wish the boys good luck.
Branchbark stepped close to Aldertail and said, “Hey, congrats on an apprentice! I’m still waiting on my first one.”
“They should have given him to you,” she blushed, making sure she lowered her voice enough that Yellowpaw didn’t hear over his conversation with Ospreymask. “I have no idea what I’m doing!”
“You’re gonna do great,” he said, but she swore she caught a trace of jealousy in his smile. That sent her brain spiralling out of control. She hadn’t considered that getting an apprentice would alienate her from her friends! This was terrible! By the time she realized she ought to say something, she looked up and he was gone, helping Ospreymask back to her sunning spot.
Instead, Russetfrond had approached her. She swallowed and straightened her posture, shrinking subconsciously in submission. He had a stern expression on, but that was his usual expression. Seeing her nervousness, he forced a bit of a sympathetic smile through his features, which looked a bit odd when mixed with his furrowed brow and squinted eyes.
“Aldertail,” he said and he didn’t sound disappointed. “I wanted to thank you for agreeing to mentor Yellowpaw. I suggested you specifically for the role and I’m confident you’ll be just what he needs.”
“Y-you did?” Aldertail gawked. She couldn’t believe her ears.
“Mhm,” he nodded. “If you ever need help, I’m happy to step in and give you some pointers. Mentoring is a balancing act and I’ll gladly help you stay on course.”
She was quiet for a beat too long before she remembered to speak. “Uh, th-thank you! I-I’ll be sure to take you up on that.”
“Good,” he said, seeming satisfied. “He’s a bit distractable, but you just have to keep him focused. Good luck.”
“Thank you,” she started, but another voice interrupted her stumbling appreciation.
“Goldenstar!” cried a young brown cat with white on their chest and tail as they bounded down the slope into camp. All heads turned towards the stranger and Russetfrond stepped away from Aldertail without a word. Goldenstar had been talking with Yarrowshade and Scorchplume near the Stoneperch and she slipped between them to approach the cat as well.
“Erminepaw,” she greeted them with warmth despite her caution. “What brings you to RisingClan?”
“It’s coyotes!” the apprentice said and several cats in camp gasped. “There’s a pair of them trying to nest in our territory. Orangestar sent me to get your mediator. She can talk to them, right?”
“Well, anyone can talk to them,” called Fogstalker, bounding over from the prey pile, “But I’m happy to help! Is it just two?”
“Yeah,” nodded Erminepaw. “They’re setting up a den in the deep woods, south of the river. Can you come right away?”
“Of course,” grinned Fogstalker.
“I wanna go!” Aldertail jumped as Yellowpaw spoke up beside her, not loud enough to interrupt the others but not exactly quietly. It was with horror that she realized he was telling her. “Can we go see the coyotes?”
“W-Uh-” How was she supposed to respond to this?
“No, you don’t have any battle training,” said Barleybee, stepping close with Bluepaw in tow. “You’re not going to see coyotes for a long while if we can help it.”
“Aww…” the big yellow apprentice sighed.
Back with the others, Goldenstar was putting together a patrol. “Alright, Fogstalker, Pantherhaze, and Sparrowsway, you go to EarthClan. Help them however you can, alright?”
“Yes, Goldenstar,” nodded Sparrowsway.
“Gladly,” smiled Pantherhaze.
“Come on,” Fogstalker was already walking. “Let’s hurry so we can finish up before sunset.” Aldertail thought that was very optimistic for dealing with a group of coyotes, but that wasn’t her problem right now.
“Can we go on some kind of patrol instead?” asked Bluepaw, bringing her back to the conversation she was actually a part of. Barleybee looked at her as if she had some say in the decision which made her realize that she did, in fact, have some say in it.
“Um, sure,” she said, shrugging nervously, and the boys brightened.
Barleybee chuckled and said, “Do you guys want a tour of the territory or should we go do some hunting?”
“Hunting!” both the boys said immediately, Yellowpaw more excitedly than his brother.
“Hunting it is!” laughed Barleybee. “Does that sound good to you, Aldertail?”
“Y-yeah,” she nodded. “I’m not sure I’ll be very good at teaching, though, so sorry in advance.”
“You’ll do fine,” Barleybee purred confidently. “Come on, let’s head out towards the river and see if there’s anything to catch.”
“Ooh, can we go swimming?” gasped Yellowpaw.
“Not unless you want to freeze solid,” Barleybee said, starting to lead them away. “Once the weather gets warmer we can do some swimming practice.” That sounded like hell to Aldertail but she kept quiet. Absently, she wondered if the desire to swim was genetic.
The four of them headed out of camp, the boys asking Barleybee questions every so often, but Aldertail was struggling to stay present. She watched her pawsteps as they went and tried to tell herself that her worries were unfounded but it was hard to believe herself.
It shocked her when Barleybee leaned in to press their pelts together and offer her a smile. She blushed in embarrassment and smiled back.
“You’ve got this,” Barleybee whispered.
“Yeah,” breathed Aldertail bashfully. She desperately hoped so.
UPDATES:
- Bluepaw is apprenticed to Barleybee
- Yellowpaw is apprenticed to Aldertail
