Shiverstep finds the way Iciclepool acts to be progressively uncomfortable. Windfur helps Shiverstep with a task that pacifies Iciclepool.
(Shiverstep, medicine cat, female, 16 moons. Loving.)
(Iciclepool, deputy, female, 72 moons. Ambitious.)
(Windfur, medicine cat, male, 30 moons. Lonesome.)
---
"Mom?"
"You can't leave. You can't."
Iciclepool clung to Shiverstep's side. She wouldn't let her go. Shiverstep's blue eyes wavered. She felt tense. She's never seen her mother like this before.
"Mom, it's okay - I…I need to collect comfrey. It won't take long." Shiverstep said this calmly, but Iciclepool's copper eyes were distant and paved with terror. Shiverstep struggled to keep her fur from bristling. It was like someone else had pulled out her spirit and left pure terror in the shell of her body.
"You can't. It can't take you too. It can't have you." Iciclepool whispered. Shiverstep was bewildered when Iciclepool physically scruffed her like a kit, only letting her go when she put up resistance. The usually composed, calm deputy started grooming Shiverstep repeatedly. Her eyes stared into space the entire time. She glared into the woods beyond the camp walls like she was daring a mountain lion to take one more step towards her, and to test how much it valued its eyes.
Shiverstep froze, scared. For her entire life, her mother was composed. Reassuring. Strong. Seeing her like this - it just…
"Iciclepool. Come."
Shiverstep jumped as she saw Windfur step in between them. Iciclepool met Windfur's dark blue eyes with subdued animosity, but the young tom spoke simply, with urgency.
"Take Shiverstep. Come to the medicine den. Now."
Shiverstep was bewildered by this, reluctantly allowing Iciclepool to herd her into the medicine den. Windfur's gaze was focused as he sat beside the herb stores and wordlessly gestured with his tail for the pair to sit down.
Iciclepool obeyed, but Windfur waved his tail in front of Shiverstep.
"Iciclepool," Windfur started without looking at the deputy. "I taught Shiverstep. Hence, she will live."
Iciclepool's distant eyes stared at the back of the tom's head. After a few moments, Windfur continued.
"Remember when I was apprenticed? I did not receive a trial."
Iciclepool blinked.
"Medicine cats do not receive trials. We are blessed by StarClan."
Iciclepool froze, then blinked repeatedly. "All apprentices…all are sent to the woods - "
"Except protectors of secrets. Do you remember the one before Chicoryglint?"
"...No," Iciclepool whispered. "No. Chicoryglint was the sole protector for my entire life."
"And I am her successor, her only apprentice. Chicoryglint said it to me personally. Medicine cats did not receive trials."
Shiverstep blinked at Windfur quizzically. She knew he was lying. She remembered asking him about that particular history when she was younger. And yet…did Iciclepool know? Why was her mother so…far away?
Iciclepool remained silent. When she finally opened her mouth to speak, her voice wavered, clinging to a frail hope. "...Is that true?"
"It is. Shiverstep was deemed worthy and has StarClan's complete protection. She will be safe, but I need her paws now to sort these herbs and make you a tea. The tea is important. It sharpens the mind. Will you observe the young and weak while we do so?" Windfur finally turned his head towards her, then eyed Morningspot and Riftpaw, who were resting at the back of the nest.
Iciclepool's eyes wavered, and for a flicker of a moment, Shiverstep recognized her mother's gaze again - like flat water rippling from a gust of wind.
"Okay," she murmured. She sat in one of the nests. She was quiet for a long while before she repeated, her voice trembling, "Okay."
Shiverstep stared at her mother for a long while, until Windfur nudged her wordlessly. He did not look at her, only pressed a bundle wrapped in oak leaves towards her.
"Melody for grieving hearts." Windfur prompted.
Shiverstep blinked, her heart thundering. In her stress and worry for her mother, she felt the memory of learning nursery rhymes fill her tongue. She glanced at the interior of the bundle, and saw a poppy seed and lots of dried thyme. She took a deep breath and recited with a shaky voice:
"I dream of rain, o cleric Loongale,
I dream of poppies in the drying sand,
I wake in pain, o cleric Loongale,
I dream of love as thyme steams through my head…"
Shiverstep continued quietly as she ground the herbs into a paste, Windfur leaving only briefly to collect a kettle of boiling water from the fire outside. When he placed it beside her for later use, Shiverstep found herself taking deeper breaths as she took care to set a small clay cup of tea, mixing the herbs and water together to steep. Windfur continued the melody for her as he started sorting out the rest of his herbs he collected, his dark blue eyes burning with focus.
Windfur wasn't Shiverstep's friend. She didn't really see him as anything more than a coworker now. But in this brief moment, she grasped to the grounding presence of his recitations. She listened to the song as she gently served Iciclepool tea, and started to clean her space.
"I dream of fire, o cleric Loongale,
These dreams are tied to a pain that will never die,
But in the flames, and all that ails,
Your tonic fills and soothes my heart's desire."
---
Riversnow was very upset by what Branchpaw said - not just by her threats to Owlkit, but by the fact that Owlkit had weaponized Warblerkit's story against Branchpaw. Olive decided she could mediate between Riversnow and Branchpaw better right now, since Branchpaw and Owlkit were still too angry at each other to be open for discussion.
Barleywave keeps avoiding eye contact with his Clanmates. He is completely silent and distant from others for several days.
(Barleywave, warrior, male, 45 moons. Playful.)
Barleywave and Riversnow have an important talk outside of camp. Barleywave confides with Riversnow about something that was bothering him.
(Riversnow, warrior, female, 65 moons. Adventurous.)
(Barleywave, warrior, male, 45 moons. Playful.)
---
Riversnow just wanted to talk. For once. Just once.
She thought they were doing better. That they had come to some - some peaceful agreement. He would try to be a father to Owlkit and Daffodilkit, and…and that was good. She thought they were good. He never told her if anything was wrong, or…or -
She didn't know, alright? She didn't know Owlkit would react that way to Warblerkit's existence, she didn't know that she would lash out at Branchpaw, she didn't know that Branchpaw would be so angry, that she would say that, and now she felt like everyone was going to judge her for what happened, and she just wanted to talk to her kits' fucking sire -
"Barley," Riversnow hissed as she approached him outside of camp. The day was hot. The leaves were turning red and brown in the approaching autumn. Barleywave's back was turned away from camp, from her, from everything, for - oh, she didn't know how long, she didn't care, he was completely silent for days and she just…
He didn't even flinch. Like she didn't even exist. Insecurity balled in her heart and bounced around in her chest.
"Don't ignore me," she hissed coldly. Her face turned hot. "Look, Barley, listen, I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't know. Please. At least say something." Riversnow's breath hitched. No. No. She was not that kind of molly anymore. She would not pad after some stupid, callous tom -
Barleywave stood up mechanically.
She froze.
He walked away into the woods.
"Oh no you don't," Riversnow hissed, bristling with anger. "You don't get to walk away from me after everything we - "
Riversnow was too angry to keep track of time. Or distance. She kept yowling at him. Telling him to turn around. To speak. To say something. Her accusations morphed into bargaining. Then grief. Eventually the trees shortened as Barleywave padded into a quiet, lonely clearing. Shoots of marigold and dandelion puffs decorated it. She didn't remember what she said. But she knew what she finished with.
" - I just need you to help me."
Barleywave averted the universe. A leviathan caught him in open water and dragged him into the depths of his memories. He tried to distract himself for days. Days. Avoid cats. Avoid tasks. Walk away. He couldn't dedicate the energy to anything else. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready.
"GO ON, FEED THE WOODS!"
Gold. Brown. Green. Harrowing, sickly green, vicious eyes. Poisoned lake. Who was she screaming at? He couldn't remember the face of the cat cowering beneath her. They had a face. They had a name. Their eyes were yellow. That's all he could remember. Terrified, frightened eyes. Did they look at him? Did they plead for him to say something? Anything? He couldn't -
A high-pitched ringing buzzed in his ear. He couldn't do it. He couldn't. The memory burned his body like stomach acid.
He couldn't do it. Push it down. Down. The cat's eyes were yellow and filled him with more dread than Lakestar's beastly screeching. He vaguely recognized the shapes of his clanmates. He barely realized a long-haired she-cat followed him. Her voice was shrill. Then pleading.
" - I just need you to - "
"HELP ME!"
He froze.
"HELP ME! SOMEBODY!"
The memory of something knocking on the gate. Once. Twice.
"HEEEEELP!"
Three times. Repeatedly.
He felt the ground shaking. His breath hitched. Voices swarmed. Screamed. Who was talking? Sharp, strict, tense. Redstar?
"Lakestar, the Fake Cat is at the gate. What are your orders?"
Fake Cat. Fake Cat. FAKE CAT - THAT WAS HIS -
He failed. His memory erupted and spilled over as he gutted himself out of the leviathan that suppressed him. Memories flooded like wet entrails and acid destroying the beach it washed up on. The cat was pale gray. Short hair. He looked like their mother. Elegant. Calm. Until one day he dared not to be.
His body found its way home. And wouldn't stop screaming. His eyes were black.
Asterhill. His brother. His friend. Hollowed. Weaponized.
He felt numb. His muscles were weak. His hearing was muffled. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready and yet it forced him to remember anyway. What was the point? What was the point?
He died for nothing.
"Barleywave. Please, I just - "
…River…?
He blinked. Oh. He was in a clearing. Oh. He walked away from camp. Right. To…avoid noise. Run away. Ohh. He felt dizzy. Heartburn. Bad. So very awful, very bad. Worst. The worst week. He felt himself lurching. Hairball.
Nope. That was bile. Also hairball. But too much bile.
Barleywave heaved as he stared blankly at the hairball he threw up. His breath grew shallow. Relief clouded his body briefly. It was all physical. Emotionally, he still felt like crowfood. But whatever worked, he guessed.
He wordlessly looked towards Riversnow, still dazed.
She looked at him with wide, bewildered eyes, a bristled pelt, and perhaps a tinge of sudden concern.
Ah. Yeah, that was sensible. He, uh, probably looked like foxdung.
"Sorry." Barleywave did not expect his voice to rasp, but here he was.
"Are…are you sick?" Riversnow asked.
Barleywave considered the pain he was feeling across his entire body.
He rejected it.
"I, uh…no, I don't think I am."
"...Barley, that's…that's bile in your hairball," she pointed out with a claw.
"M' good," he mumbled. He blinked a few times. He's…StarClan, he's been…he's felt like a zombie for a few days. Okay. Okay, think. Riversnow was following him…why? He thinks she was yelling. Oh, she was mad at him. That - you know, that seemed like a reasonable assumption. "Sorry if - if I've been useless. Like I always am." Why did he say that? That was so awkward. Riversnow's look of concern deepened. She looked away, as though ashamed. Nope. Nope, not now, he doesn't -
Riversnow closed her eyes as she approached him and placed her paw on his forehead. Barleywave blinked. His skin turned hot. For a completely different reason than crippling self-hatred. That's beside the point. Come on. Hold it together. Do not be a tomcat. Be a tomcat on literally any other day. His body already felt like rootfood. Come on.
Barleywave sighed and brought his paw up to brush hers aside. "I'm fine. I swear."
His paw lingered as he placed hers on the ground. The two cats' eyes met. There was a vulnerability in there. Bricked upon walls and walls of defenses, with one singular hole to peer through to the outside world. Pity. Concern. Fear. The two were silent for a long while. Riversnow's body slowly tensed more and more, as though a thought wormed into her mind and refused to let go. She opened her mouth to say something, and closed it. Barleywave felt himself tense, afraid of what she would say.
Finally, with a scared, mortified voice, she mewed, "Did you want to talk about it?"
Foxdung. That was mortifying.
"No," he sputtered. He immediately regretted it as Riversnow's posture sank and her eyes glazed over, closing off. He scrambled. "I-I mean, not…not completely. Some of it, maybe. I wasn't…I remembered something I…tried forgetting. It hurts."
Riversnow froze. In another place, perhaps she would've looked like she had one paw out the gate. But her ear twitched, waiting. Vulnerable.
Barleywave felt his heart race. She…she deserved this much. And…his littermate deserved that too. Acknowledgement. That they existed, and mattered. "...I had a brother. His name was Asterhill." He swallowed. "He fed the woods."
Riversnow's cyan eyes melted into sadness. "I'm so sorry."
Barleywave suppressed a sniffle as he stared out into the treeline. "Me too."
Silence.
"...I'm so sorry, Barleywave. I didn't know that Owlkit would…if I just…didn't say anything about Warblerkit…"
Barleywave was dumbfounded. "You told her about Warblerkit?"
"She and Daffodilkit eavesdropped on a personal mediation with Olive, it's not like I had much of a choice," Riversnow growled defensively.
"I…no, that's not on you. Sorry. I didn't mean it that way. Honest." Barleywave paused. "Owlkit has been…um.."
Riversnow waited patiently.
"...A bit…brash."
"An understatement."
Barleywave sighed. "She behaves around you, somewhat. She lashes out at everyone else."
"What about you?"
"She is very antagonistic towards me."
Riversnow recoiled, shocked. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Barleywave shrugged. "What was I supposed to say? 'River, our kit is a Pale Herald and a foxheart'?"
"Yes, actually," Riversnow scowled. Barleywave sighed and shook his head.
"I'm sorry."
"It's just…if I had known that she was likely to act like this, then I could've…I don't know, I just…I feel like I'm being judged for failing to control her - "
Barleywave was half-aware and exhausted, trying really hard to listen and put together what she was putting down. He blinked tiredly and uttered, "What?"
"What do you mean, 'what'?" Riversnow's tail bristled.
"Owlkit…I mean, cats can see you're doing fine. You're not enabling her or whatever. She hasn't, uh…attacked anyone at this scale before, is all. I don't think anyone's judging you."
"Then why are half the cats in the camp acting like they're in a crisis?!" Riversnow mewled loudly, the stress clearly getting to her. Barleywave blinked awake, staring in surprise. Riversnow continued. "You wouldn't talk to anyone for days, the leader and deputy are thrashing like mad, two warriors and a doctor are acting like damage control - I'm scared, Barley! Surely they can't just - Barley, please, please tell me they won't punish her. In…in that way. Won't hurt her. Please," Riversnow's pelt bristled.
Barleywave hardened. "No. They won't."
The molly's fur flattened slowly.
"It's not…it's not your fault." He continued. "It's not Owlkit's fault. Or…rather, she shouldn't have provoked Branchpaw. But the…the snapping. On our part. That's not their fault."
Barleywave paused as the looming fog of Lakestar's memory pierced the back of his head.
"Any other objections? What about YOU, Barleywave? Would you like to join your brother?"
Barleywave closed his eyes, and forced himself to take a deep breath.
"I promise, it's not on her. It's…it's something else."
When you say you’d do anything to have kits but then the monkey’s paw curls and your husband immediately dies to the Killer ™️ 😂😂😂😂😂 welcome to this crazy family my bird babies
