#hawkjay

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Unpopular Friendship (final) (short story)

First: https://www.tumblr.com/residents-of-the-darkforest/737215289814630400/unpopular-friendship-part-1-short-story?source=share

Previous: https://www.tumblr.com/residents-of-the-darkforest/738115228165980160/unpopular-friendship-part-3-short-story?source=share

==============================

Poppykit’s heart pounded, thrumming through her veins down to her paws, making them beat rhythmically as she hurried silently across the brittle ground. It was not the cold, gut-squeezing heart-pound that would have her wondering if she would get caught. No, it was the thrilled, little bursts of energy as she thought how she’s doing it! She’s sneaking out, and not getting caught!

She had stalked away, then walked, and now was picking up her pace to a run. She knew it was only smart to have their meeting spot so far away from either of their parents and any watchful eyes that could tattle, but before long her legs ached and she had to resist the urge to curl down and rest. When she finally came to the small clearing sheltered by a ring of blackened holly bushes, she collapsed onto her belly with a dramatic sigh.

“Hemlockkiiiiit! Please tell me you’re here…”

“I am!” Hemlockkit announced from the shadows. Poppykit had no time to look around before she was pounced on and rolled onto her back. Hemlockkit smiled down at her, her unusually long fangs glinting in the dim light of the mushrooms that clung to the nearby trees, the only light that was offered. “Hi.”

Poppykit giggled and pushed her off. “Did anyone see you leave?”

Hemlockkit puffed out her chest proudly. “Not one! Well, Spottedtooth, but he promised not to tell a soul if I made it back before my parents wake up!” 

Poppykit nodded. “Shiverkit promised not to tell no matter how long I’m gone! But I’ll probably have to cover for him someday. Anyway, no one saw me! My moms didn’t even twitch!”

Hemlockkit batted playfully at Poppykit’s tail while Poppykit settled onto her side, allowing her legs their much-needed rest. “I wish I had done that,” she replied. “I wonder how long I have…It already took so long getting here.”

Poppykit let out a breath. “You’re telling me!”

“Aw!” Hemlockkit nudged her. “Don’t tell me you’re too tired to play!”

“Am not! Just sore’s all.”

“Aww, did the long walk hurt your little toes?” Hemlockkit teased. If it were from anyone else, Poppykit’s hair would have stood in anger, but from her best friend, she smiled a challenging grin, moving into the position of a crouch, ready to jump. 

“I’ll show you hurt toes!”

“I have an idea.” Hemlockkit proposed before Poppykit could leap at her.

“What?”

Hemlockkit gestured toward the massive karri tree five tail-lengths behind the bushes. Poppykit’s jaw dropped as she saw the massive tree for the first time. She hadn’t even noticed it in the black shadows! “Bet I can climb higher than you,” she challenged.

“But it’s huge!” Poppykit’s eyes were wide, still on the huge tree.

“Are you backing down?”

Poppykit glared at her. “Never!”

“Then come on!” Hemlockkit bounced excitedly on her paws. “We’re bound to learn this when we start our training, right? Wouldn’t it be cool to have a head start and surprise our mentors?’

“Yeah!” Poppykit agreed. The bursts of energy were returning to her. 

“Then it’s on!”

Poppykit was, if nothing else, a very confident kit. She pushed herself up the bark, digging her claws in deep as inch by inch, she scooted up the slim trunk. Her eyes were fixed on the branch high above her. She just needed to reach that, and then she could take a break…but it was so high!

Beside her, Hemlockkit took in long breaths, struggling too as she moved upward.

Poppykit was a very confident kit, a great strength and a great flaw. When she turned her head and looked back to the ground, seeing how high from the safety of the grass she came, she let out a squeak and pressed as close to the bark as she could. Her confidence was slipping like her claws might start to–!

“Hurry up, slow-poke!” 

Poppykit looked back up, and saw that Hemlockkit had gained distance. While Poppykit debated following or just going back, Hemlockkit was nearing the branch. Don’t be such a kit, she told herself. Hemlockkit was right, they were bound to do this training anyway, right? So it can’t be that bad…and when Hawkjay saw how skilled she was, she surely wouldn’t worry so much anymore! 

Gritting her teeth, Poppykit pushed on. Closer…closer…she was almost there! 

Hemlockkit had already made it to the branch and now sat on it, claws unsheathed for grip, watching and waiting for Poppykit to join her. 

Poppykit’s breath left her in a long sigh of relief as she finally, finally clambered onto the branch. It took everything in her not to just let her muscles melt away and sink into the wood. She still had to hold on.

“Who do you think your mentor will be?” Hemlockkit asked.

“Are we talking up here?”

“If you want a distraction.”

“Good. Yeah. Uhm…maybe Scorchbeetle?” They were cousins, and Poppykit highly doubted that either of her mothers would be comfortable with non-kin watching over their kits. “Oh! Maybe Crowsage! She’s so cool, she lets me get away with everything!” 

“Yeah, Hawkjay will love that.”

“Uh, right…Well, who do you think your mentor will be?”

Silence.

“Hemlockkit? Helloo?”

Poppykit blinked at her friend, and saw that she was busy staring down at the ground. “Hemlockkit? Hey, you’re not scared, are you?” Poppykit tried to make her voice sound teasing, but anxiety was swirling uncomfortably in her chest. If Hemlockkit was scared, too, then….

“Do you think it’s too high? If the branch breaks, or we slip–”

“Don’t say that!”

“What will happen to us when we land?”

“I don’t know.” Poppykit shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, and not like her heart was pounding painfully. 

“Me neither. I think I need to see.”

“See? See how?” Before Poppykit could realize what was happening, she felt a pressure on her side, and the solid branch beneath her was suddenly gone. The wind was cold as ice, pulling violently at her fur while reaching deep into her bones. She yowled in terror, her legs swinging blindly through the air as she plummeted lower and lower. “Mommy!” 

—-

No one knew of Hemlockkit’s deed. 

She would climb down to safety and return to the warm belly of her mother, and start the next day as she would any other.

Hawkjay and Lilacheart were never quite the same after that. They never found out where their daughter went or why she had left. With each passing day, the idea that she was dead became an obvious reality, but the questions would always haunt them. What had happened to her? Did she suffer? Did someone hurt her, and if so, who? Any cat they met could have been their daughter’s killer.

Shiverkit hated himself for not telling them sooner, for letting his sister leave the safety of their den and walk into the darkness alone. He never told them that he knew. He swore on his life that he wouldn’t, and the deep fear that he, too, would disappear into nothingness kept him silent. As he grew into a warrior, that fear shrank, but still he kept his silence. Telling them now would only cause them to hate him. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he was selfish. They needed closure, but would they turn their backs on him?

He had asked Hemlockkit, but she seemed just as concerned and confused, claiming that Poppykit had never made it to their spot. He followed her to where they were supposed to meet, but there was no sign that either kit had ever been there.

You may be wondering: but why?

Why would Hemlockkit murder her best friend? Was she planning it all along? Was it an accident?

Maybe, and no.

Many cats kill those they hate, or those they don’t know at all. To kill a friend, someone one actually likes and cares for for no other reason than ‘why not?’, is ludicrous!

For Hemlockpine it isn’t. Hemlockpine kills equally, friends and foes, simply because she feels like it. Hemlockkit truly did like Poppykit. She saw the ginger-and-black kit as her best friend, and loved the time they had together. Maybe the thought to push her was a spur-of-the-moment thing, maybe she was planning it the moment she challenged Poppykit to climb, or before. 

In either case, her reasoning is the same: because she could. 

=======================

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE! YOU THOUGHT!

ME WRITING A NICE STORY? THINK AGAIN! IT WAS A VICTIMS TALE ALL ALONG FUCKERS!

--No one ever finds out about what Hemlock did.

--Hemlockpine kills anyone--but not kin. Kin is off limits, that's the family rule.

@starfalcon555

[gooseeatsholywater]

Sketch inspiration from @liberhoe

Lovagecreek and Hawkjay from @residents-of-the-darkforest

That moment when you find your sibling in hell. Crazy stuff.

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Apprentices of The Place of No Stars (short story)

It was hard to believe that this was happening. 

Jackdawfoot hadn’t been a father since he was alive, and he left when all of his daughters were adults. Then suddenly, he had a mate again, became a father again, and now, his fluffy chest puffing out in pride, was watching his kits receive their apprentice names again.

The ceremony wasn’t like that of a regular Clan. Not everyone in the Dark Forest was going to show up, but all the important cats were here, kin to Redkit, Blackkit and Mudkit, and Wormkit’s adoptive parents, and of course, the parents themselves. As well, there were the mentors, making it no real surprise who they would be. There was also Fungichomp, the main caretaker of the ‘Daycare,’ as well as some onlookers.

Jackdawfoot and Ferndoe had discussed long and hard about who they wanted to train their precious son and daughter. They initially wanted to train them themselves, knowing they could protect them and keep them safe, but decided that what Mudkit and Blackkit needed was help from someone they didn’t already know to bring them out of their shells. ‘Daycare’ could only do so much.

Beside him, Wordweaver made a noise–something of a purr. Or maybe a word, because it made Daisysong chuckle. 

Jackdawfoot couldn’t pin down why exactly Wordweaver was here. Was it because Wormkit was her kin? Because Redkit was the kit of her kin? Could it be because Blackkit had been the first voice her mate heard when she arrived in the Dark Forest? Because Ferndoe, Blackkit’s mother, was a good friend of Daisysong’s? Or perhaps it was for their son, Mellowpaw, seated between his mothers’ legs, chattering on about how he wanted to show the new apprentices that ‘realy cool training grove.’

Jackdawfoot hoped it was somewhere safe.

At least Wormkit was doing better. Jackdawfoot still wasn’t too fond of the kit, and he had made his request to keep him away from his kits clear to Fungichomp, but he was still a kit, and Jackdawfoot had to acknowledge how much better Wormkit was doing. He, reportedly, didn’t get in half as much trouble as he usually did these days, and once even helped another kit find their lost pinecone.

He wasn’t all the way better just yet. He still had his moments, but that was why he was beginning training. Jackdawfoot knew that his mothers agreed that the ‘Daycare’ and themselves had helped Wormkit as much as they could, and now he needed one-on-one attention. 

Training would have begun earlier, as well as Mudkit’s and Blackkit’s, if they had not met Redkit. They met because of their parents’ connection, bonding so well that Blackkit cried about not getting to become an apprentice alongside his friend. It wasn’t about a difference in age, more of a difference in readiness.

Ready. His kits were ready. A pang stabbed Jackdawfoot’s chest. He wanted Blackkit and Mudkit to remain as they were, small and able to fit in his paws or climb over his back. He didn’t want them to grow. He didn’t even know that they could.

“Welcome, everyone,” Alderstar spoke up from where he stood on a tall, jagged stone, cutting into Jackdawfoot’s thoughts. Jackdawfoot couldn’t suppress an amused grin. Being Alderstar’s friend, he had found it funny that so many looked to the golden leader for advice and ceremonies, as if he hadn’t also been a serial killer. Alderstar had never forced a meeting or respect. Perhaps that was why he always seemed to get it.

“This moon, we welcome four young cats into our ranks of warriors. They will learn skills the Clans were frightened of teaching. They will be taught lessons in sonderness and survival, fighting not for cats who would have asked them to give their life for the greater good, but for themselves, their own worth, and their own loved ones. Redkit, step forward.”

At the front of the crowd in the line of kits, Redkit visibly shook. From nerves or excitement, Jackdawfoot couldn’t be sure. All the same, she obliged. 

“With request of your father–my son, your dad, and Fungichomp, your mentor shall be Hootpetal. I know her as a strong and compassionate warrior, and trust that she will protect you and allow you to thrive in ways that will thrill you.”

Redkit’s tail flicked. She was clearly much happier now, touching noses with her grandmother with a little chirp, before settling down next to her. Hootpetal turned to Perchclaw on her other side. “I’m so proud of you!” she exclaimed, licking at his ear.

“Mom!” Perchclaw complained, ducking away, but try as he might, he couldn’t hide the grin.

“Wormkit, step forward.”

Jackdawfoot held his breath. He scanned the crowd, wondering which of them would receive the kit. 

“With request of your mothers and Fungichomp, your mentor shall be Snowwing. He is a passive, skillful warrior, whom I expect will pass on everything you need to know.”

Jackdawfoot heard the hint in his words. It wasn’t just about skills in fighting, but in other things Wormkit needed a lesson or two about. But it had been stated in a kind way, disguised as to not embarrass or anger the kit.

He realized that Snowwing, Wormkit’s adoptive brother, was probably the best choice anyone could have made. He visited his mothers often and likely met Wormkit before, but not so much that that could soften his lectures for Wormkit. Too, he really was passive, always having a resting bored face and never feeling bothered enough to fight. He was the kind of cat that would respond to an insult with “well, I don’t think that,” and move on. It would certainly help to focus Wormkit on his duties, and on not trying to hurt someone’s feelings once he figures that that is an impossible thing to do.

“Mudkit,” Alderstar spoke again. Jackdawfoot and Ferndoe both straightened as high as they could. “With request of your parents and Fungichomp,”--Jackdawfoot and Ferndoe exchanged a nervous glance. He hoped their choice was the right one– “your mentor shall be Hawkjay. A clever convergent thinker, I trust her to keep you safe and teach you well.”

Jackdawfoot narrowed his eye, paying close attention to Hawkjay’s and Mudkit’s actions as they touched noses. Mudkit’s ears were flat, but that was to be expected. Hawkjay bent down carefully to reach her, blue eyes warm. “I look forward to getting to know you,” she said in a low voice so that only Mudkit, and the parents close by, could hear. 

Jackdawfoot relaxed.

“Blackkit,” Alderstar went on. “With request of your parents and Fungichomp,”--the nerves returned– “your mentor shall be Lovagecreek. A warrior with a big heart is something of interest in a place like this, and I trust that he will use it to make you feel safe and happy to the best of his ability, until you are able to do so on your own.”

On your own. The pang pricked deeper. Blackkit and Mudkit weren’t just becoming apprentices, they were growing up–growing apart from him. He forced his muzzle straight and not quivering as Alderstar finished. “We welcome you as apprentices of the Place of No Stars!”

To a Clan cat, to Starclan, maybe even to kittypets, that would have felt like a thing to be ashamed of. But Alderstar managed to speak as if it was an honour only the best of cats get to experience. Maybe it actually was. 

“Redpaw!”

“Mudpaw!”

“Blackpaw!”

“Wormpaw!”

============================================

--Daycare in quotations because it’s Jackdaw’s POV and he doesn’t know where the name came from and doesn’t know what to make of it.

--Jackdawfoot doesn’t know about the water incident with Wormkit/paw.

--I was going to give Mud and Black to mentors that weren’t my characters, since Red and Worm already were, but then realized that Lovage and Hawk haven’t been seen in a while.

--Snowwing is the kind of person to respond to “I think you look like shit” with “okay. I don’t think that.” and his opinion on the matter is the only one he should care about, so it doesn’t bother him.

--The ceremonious words are a little different than that of the Clans (and also with some shade). While the Clans view importance in the group (protect this Clan even at the cost of your life), the Dark Forest views it in the individual. 

As well, because they’re in Hell, they do need to know extra fighting skills that are more....violent than Clan cats would have learned, in order to stay safe. I don’t know how much hunting they would learn, considering there’s no food, but there’s probably lessons in other things that wouldn’t have been taught to living cats (like sonder).

-- @ambitiousauthor

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Dark Forest Residences: Hawkjay & Lovagecreek

HawkJay

Aliases / Nicknames: Honeybunchies, Dear, Murderer

Gender: she-cat

Sexuality: pansexual, panromantic

Family: Yellowsong (mother), unnamed father, Berrytwig (sister), Lovagecreek (brother)

Other Relations: unnamed mentor

Clan: Skyclan

Rank: warrior

Characteristics: believed she was protecting her Clan, kills due to stress

Number of Victims: 2

Number of Murders: 2

Murder Method: poisoning, tearing chest

Known Victims: Mosseagle, Bayjaw

Cause of Death: killed by Rainpaw

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

There isn’t much to say about her backstory, as it was simple and ineffective to her future murderous deed. Or, perhaps not entirely. It is, after all, in early childhood that the importance of protecting one’s Clan is driven into a cat’s mind.

Other than this, her growing up was mainly filled with playing with her sister and brother, training, and trying not to laugh with Berrytwig during their silent vigil as Lovagecreek tried not to screech in panic when they placed a beetle atop his head.

Her relationship with the two is the same as most siblings, which is to say they teased and bullied and poked fun at each other once a day, but did care deeply for one another.

When Lovagecreek and his mate were having problems, it was Hawkjay’s advice he would seek. When she had misgivings about the newly named deputy, Mosseagle, it was her littermates she went to to speak about them, to poke fun at the tom, if not to let it off her chest.

But simply talking couldn’t put her at rest. Mosseagle, ever since he was a kit, was prone to aggression, and always bragged about how he would steal so much territory from all the Clans when he was leader.

Of course he was exaggerating, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t bring Skyclan to war, battle after battle that could cause the deaths of her beloved Clanmates and family.

She almost went to the leader to express her worries, then realized that if it came down to having to do something herself, something she wouldn’t be proud of, she didn’t want anyone to suspect her.

Moons passed with relatively no issue. Hawkjay began to believe that perhaps she had been wrong. Then the leader fell sick and Mosseagle temporarily took over, with the first thing on his agenda being leading a patrol into Shadowclan territory to take a worthless strip of land. No one was killed, thank Starclan, but a Skyclan warrior was badly injured.

Hawkjay saw no other alternative. Hunting down a robin, she stuffed it full of deathberries before delivering it personally to Mosseagle, telling him it was a celebratory thank you. He was resting just outside of the camp, as he often did, because the shade was better there.

No one could believe the sudden death! They found the deathberries in his mouth, but none remained in the bird. Without fully intact berries to prove they had been planted, everyone assumed the bird had eaten them.

Hawkjay hated it, but she felt a thrill. A part of her wanted to do it again, and she tried so hard to pull it out of her.

Before she knew it, another Clanmate was dead at her paws. Bayjaw was alone with her in the forest, talking too much about the death of their deputy, how he believed it was suspicious, but how he was secretly glad Mosseagle was dead.

He wouldn’t shut up! Hawkjay had attacked him, and, well, the rest is clear.

Hawkjay could hardly live with herself, unable to be the supportive or even bullying littermate to Berrytwig or Lovagecreek, not even after the deaths of Lovagecreek’s kits or their friend, Bluedove.

She couldn’t keep it inside of her any longer.

She took Rainpaw, Mosseagle’s son, on a walk. She was ready to spill everything, but before she told the Clan, she knew to tell the cat who had suffered most of all by the death first and in private.

Rainpaw was reasonably and incredibly furious. Hawkjay couldn’t blame him for her death.

Lovagecreek

Aliases / Nicknames: Little Kit

Gender: tom

Sexuality: bisexual-demisexual, biromantic

Family: Yellowsong (mother), unnamed father, Hawkjay, Berrytwig (sisters), Aldersun (mate), Dawnkit, Snowkit (daughters), Bluesong, Stripemouse, Beetlecreek (foster sons)

Other Relations: unnamed mentor, unnamed apprentice

Clan: Skyclan

Rank: warrior

Characteristics: killed a queen to give his mate kits to look after

Number of Victims: 1

Number of Murders: 1

Murder Method: neck snapping

Known Victims: Bluedove

Cause of Death: tail skinned by fox-trap

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

He was the runt of his litter, simultaneously bullied and protecting by his sisters throughout their kithood and apprenticeships. He had a fear of beetles, which was often used against him, even during their warrior vigil.

Due to being the smallest, Lovagekit was coddled by their mother often, much to his annoyance and secret enjoyment.

He fell head over heels for Alderpaw the moment he saw her. Over and over again, he tried to win her over, impressing her in training or hunting for extra long to make sure he brought her the prey he knew she liked.

He could have leaped over the moon when Aldersun finally agreed to be his mate. Not even the death of their deputy could bring them down. Lovagecreek had talked to Hawkjay about it, who seemed more stressed than usual, but his mind was on Aldersun. His mate, at last!

It wasn’t long before she fell pregnant with his kits, and they--together--moved into the nursery, where Bluedove was already preparing their nests.

He talked to everyone in his family about it. Yellowsong was more obeying of Aldersun’s needs than Lovagecreek was, eagerly preparing the mother of her grandkits. 

Lovagecreek’s father talked to his son often, telling him the dos and don’ts.

But none of it mattered.

The kits, their darling daughters, their Dawnkit and Snowkit had been born sickly. The medicine cat’s constant care wasn’t enough, nor Hawkjay or Yellowsong fetching wet moss twice a day. They were dead before the third day.

Lovagecreek’s heart was torn apart, tearing more at the sight of Aldersun, screaming in agony in their moss. The next moon, nothing thawed the numbness that surrounded her. She wouldn’t leave the nursery, wouldn’t eat. 

The only thing that came close to melting the newfound coldness was the birth of Bluedove’s three kits, who she decided against naming yet for reasons Lovagecreek was unsure of. 

Aldersun at last had a her spirit back, at least a piece of it. She always volunteered to look after the three if Bluedove needed rest, or even if she was energized. 

Aldersun admitted to him that sometimes, she wished those three miracles were her own.

They made her so happy, and every time they were taken away, the familiar pain shone in Aldersun’s eyes and pierced Lovagecreek’s heart.

He had to do it for her.

He knew Bluedove’s death would hurt her, but it would be worth it. Besides, the kits were too young to remember their birth mother after a moon. 

They named the toms Bluekit, after his mother, Stripekit, after the pattern on his pelt, and Beetlekit, after Lovagecreek’s fear. That one was Hawkjay’s idea.

Lovagecreek loved that Aldersun was so happy now. And he loved the kits just as though they were his own, much as he missed his daughters.

But there was always that nagging thought when he saw Bluedove’s empty nest or smelt her remaining scent, or looked at Bluekit, so much like his mother.

Before, Lovagecreek was able to bury himself in his family, to avoid his guilt and his grief for his sister. But then they became apprentices, and everything was suddenly so silent-- aside from his own mind.

One, clear night, he nuzzled his sleeping family before going out into the night. He looked to the sky and asked if he was wrong to do what he did. Startled by a sudden gust of wind, he backed up into a fox-trap.

It would seem he found his answer.

Additional Information:

--Bluedove wanted Starclan to tell her in a dream what to name her kits. Yes, she’s a religious weirdo.

--Lovagecreek truly did care for his old and new kits, they weren’t just things to keep Aldersun happy.

--Aldersun initially saw Lovagecreek as a cute, but young apprentice. It wasn’t until he was a warrior that she saw him as a love interest.

--Hawkjay and Lovagecreek were killing at the same time, but neither knew, at least not until they wound up in the Dark Forest. They were involved in each other’s lives, but were so distracted by their own guilt that they didn’t notice anything weird about the other.

--Yes, Beetlecreek’s suffix is after his father. Bluesong’s is also after Yellowsong, who I imagine doted on the kits even more after the deaths of two of her own.

--Lovagecreek didn’t think he was going to die, but just to be safe, if he was to die or be sent into exile by the stars, he wanted to nuzzle goodbye to his family first.

--Picrew: https://picrew.me/image_maker/164475

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

You know what? I’m gonna do the name thing too.

Jackdawfoot--> prefix = mother thought jackdaws were the biggest in its respective family. It’s actually the smallest, suffix = big fucking feet

Gorseheart--> prefix = gorse bushes are tenacious, something his parents hoped he would be (and he kinda was), suffix = he was literally the biggest softy before the rampage

Ferndoe--> prefix = fern tickled her nose, causing her to sneeze, the first sound she made after wailing, suffix = delicate, but dangerous if need be

Poppyhill--> prefix = reddish colour, suffix = loves running across hills

Myrtlewing--> prefix = mother had a dream about grown Myrtle working in the medicine den, and many of myrtle is used as medicine. It’s possible she also dreamt of darker stuff, but decided to focus on the good, thinking that would lead to a better path. In fact, myrtle is supposedly not poisonous to any animals, suffix = his differently-coloured forelegs reminded his mentor of bird wings and how they can be different colours from the body

Aldereyes/star--> prefix = his mother’s favourite plant. She knew the birthing ordeal would likely take her life, as it made her really sick, and wanted her son to not feel guilt and instead know how much she loved him, and figured it would be a good way to do so, suffix = Stormstar didn’t think much of it, likely choosing the one trait they had in common.

Basiltooth--> prefix = his mother referred to him as ‘sweety’ before he officially had a name, and the medicine cat suggested Basil because there’s a thing called ‘sweet basil,’ which they possibly learned from a kittypet, suffix = he has really dark, possibly rotting teeth

Grousemane--> prefix = gray-ish with spots, suffix = gorgeous locks

Mottlecry--> prefix = an irregular arrangement of colour, which descripes how his head is one shade of gray while the rest is a different one, suffix = high-pitch shriek (more creepy creature from a movie, less little girl tantrum)

Lovagecreek--> prefix = the medicine saved his father from certain death, suffix = with Hawkjay, he once caught a fat jay during leaf-bare at a creek. The leader named him this to celebrate his skill

Hawkjay--> prefix = when she was born, the medicine cat warned that she may have eye trouble, and they named her hawk in the hopes that she wouldn’t, ‘eyes like a hawk’, suffix = with Lovagecreek, caught a fat jay during a food-scarce leaf-bare. The leader named her to celebrate her skill.

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

@starfalcon555 what if Hawkjay became a surrogate mother for Nettle and Pitch during Unpopular Friendship instead of when Shiver became an apprentice?

Just cause it would be odd to ask someone to carry your kits right after she lost hers + the angst of her having to carry kits she'll have to give up when she lost her daughter

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Sad Mom

Base: Cry f2u lines by DragonWarriorCat on DeviantArt

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

I just had another idea for the donor of Poppy and Shiver: Nettledeer

Honestly kind of torn between Nettledeer and Pitchfang now

Maybe Pitchfang and Nettledeer are mates, and after one of them acts as the donor for Poppy and Shiver, they ask Hawkjay if she would surrogate their litter?

It would be when Poppy and Shiver are freshly made apprentices I'm thinking

aww that's cute!!

I'm also always a sucker for the absolute sweet bean x muscular bully that could kill them with one strike but won't dynamic

also picture Pitchfang being the one to ask Nettle out and Nettle just being like "oh thank god I thought you were gonna pummel me....WAIT WHA--"