Moon 0: The Pigeon's Bloom
“Hey! Wait up!” a voice called out, running through the cold snow. Their paws were already freezing, but the wisp continued to beckon them. He somehow managed to escape from his house by unlatching the window in order to follow it. Pigeon didn’t know how long they'd been traveling for, but his paws were starting to get tired. Still, the cyan wisp still managed to zip around.
Finally, it seemed to be slowing down, and just hovered in the middle of a snowy field. Pigeon collapsed into the snow from exhaustion, glancing up at the wisp. “Okay! I’m here now!” he panted, staggering back to his paws. “You got something to show me?”
The wisp remained unmoved.
Pigeon’s ears flattened in irritation. “C’mon. I didn’t escape my house just to see this.”
The wisp remained unmoved.
“Fine! I guess I’ll go back then,” he resolved, turning away. After only two steps, the wisp shone even brighter and created a gust of winds that made him turn around in surprise.
The wisp’s light seemed to expand more and more. Pigeon had to squint their eyes to avoid being blinded. At last, the light dissipated and what remained was a ghostly figure. The tom starred in surprise at the sudden change and appearance.
It was a cat. Their fur was long and silky, a gray pelt covered in darker stripes and speckles. It was looking down at him with bright, yellow eyes. Pigeon continued to stare, until the spirit opened its mouth…
“Hi!” it greeted with a toothy grin.
“...Okay…this is…weird,” the gray and white tom thought out loud.
The ghostly cat swooped down, until their noses were barely touching. “Yep!” she confirmed. “And it’s gonna be a lot weirder!”
“That’s not very reassuring,” Pigeon said. Then, the uncertainty wore off and he shook his head in disbelief. “Wait, who am I kidding? You’re an actual ghost! You’re a ghost that made me follow you in the middle of the snow!”
By now, the spirit was floating on her back, much like an otter, with paws tucked neatly to her chest, circling above. “Actually, I’d prefer the term “Starclan Ancestor,”” she corrected.
“Starwhat?” the tom questioned, tilting its head.
The speckled spirit sighed and flew down to his eye level. “Y’know, I just realized we haven’t made any introductions! I’m Valleyfang! I’ve actually been following you a lot, Pigeon.”
“How did you know my name!?” Pigeon asked bewildered.
“Becaaaause, you’ve been selected to rebuild…pause for effect…Myrtleclan!” she cheered, outstretching her paws.
“Lemme ask you something real quick,” Valleyfang requested. “Do you know who your dad is?”
The tom blinked in confusion a few times. “No. As a matter of fact I do not. My mom told me he was the head of a colony.”
“Well, the “was” part was right…but, it’s not a colony. It’s a Clan.” the spirit said.
“Whatever it’s called, why does it involve me?” Pigeon asked.
Valleyfang has a smirk on her face. “Glad you asked that. Because you, buddy, are the last remaining ancestor of the clan. You’re dad ended up having a little fling with your mama, resulting in you. Buuut, Starclan didn’t take it too kindly. So, they unleashed a plague to punish Pansystar, your dad, for it. Unfortunately, they didn’t expect it to wipe out everyone in the Clan.”
“Wh-really?” the tabby tom huffed out. “Woah…that’s a lot to take in.”
“And, that’s why you’ve been summoned! Starclan feels really, and I mean reeeally bad about what they did. So, they decided to push back on their policy on outer clan relationships, and sent me to find ya! In hopes that you will restore Myrtleclan back to its former glo-where are you going?”
Valleyfang watched as Pigeon turned around and walked away. “Appreciate the lecture, Valleyteeth, or something! But, I’d like to get back to my old home. With my warm bed and fresh tuna,” he yelled back.
The gray ghost zipped up next to him to match his speed. “B-But, what about your legacy? You’re ancestors?”
“It’s nice to know I have ancestors,” he admitted, “But, I like being with my owners, and not in the middle of a snowy field with a ghost I just met.”
“Grrrrr” she grumbled. Valleyfang flew above him and gripped her claws on either side of his face, making the tom stop in their tracks. She leaned down to his face. “By Starclan’s will, I dub thee, Pigeonthroat! You are now a full Medic of Myrtleclan!”
Her nose crashed into his forehead. In an instant, all herbal knowledge and method of healing wounds and illnesses careened into his brain. His body felt simultaneously warm and cold at the same time and his head began throbbing with the outflow of information.
His mind slipped into blackness.
Pigeonthroat woke up with the worst headache ever. He groaned and placed both of his unsheathed claws against his temple. The tom knew he had to open his eyes, but didn’t want to. His eyes cracked open, expecting the brightness of the sun, but was met with a small, darkened cave, surrounded by dried herbs. His front paws lifted his body up, but one of them seemed to nudge something. He glanced down and raised the paw that grazed it.
His surprise went down when Pigeonthroat realized it wasn’t anything to worry over. But, it was still interesting nonetheless.
A small branch of myrtle flowers. The branch was covered in buds, with a few leaves, and blooming flowers. The new Medic looked up out of the den to the growing sunrise.
“Guess I’m really doing this,” he resolved.
