#plumsong

[dark-tides-and-storms]

Moon 37, Part 3, POV Amberleaf

Cats: Goldstar, Skypelt, Plumsong, Wasp, Pumaspot, Amberleaf, Mystery Entity

TW/CW: Animal death

Though he was a new warrior, Amberleaf had been chosen for this job. He had volunteered, after all, but he honestly has not expected Goldstar to pick him.

Despite the care the medicine cats were giving her, they were very worried about Morbius; none of them had really dealt with a broken back before. Plumsong thought it might be worth seeing if her Twoleg would take her back and help her how the medicine cats could. They didn't know if the Twoleg would want her back, would want to help her. And they couldn't just lead the Twoleg to camp, or drag Morbius to the lighthouse without cause.

So Amberleaf was going to check it out, and he was up early, coating himself in protection for the trip. He wouldn't take a conch or company, being able to travel faster that way, and he didn't mind. He was curious about the lighthouse, to be honest. And he was glad Goldstar had so much faith in him.

As he sat and carefully coated his pelt in the places rolling in it had missed, and that was when he was aware of Plumsong and Yellowlily nearby. They had come from somewhere else, up oddly early, and they stopped near the supply of protection, somewhat, Amberleaf pricking his ears as he heard their voices, smelling that Plumsong was angry. It was a private area near here, so it was a good place to talk, but Amberleaf felt like he might have been intruding. Especially when he heard what they were saying to each other.

"...The answer is no, Yellowlily. I told you that before." Plumsong snapped, and Amberleaf could easily imagine his tail lashing.

His view was blocked at the moment and he thought of leaving, but he wasn't going to risk not being as covered as he could.

"And why not?" Yellowlily demanded, sounding surprisingly angry.

"You and Jackdawnudge are mates. And you are asking me to your mate." Plumsong said, as if explaining something to a kit.

"So?"

"You already have a mate!"

"I've discussed it with Jackdaw. He doesn't mind. He knows that I'd have both of you if I could, and I want both of you, Plumsong. What's so wrong with that? I love you, and I love Jackdawnudge, too. You can love more than one cat at a time." Yellowlily demanded, her voice rising just a little.

"Does he really want to share you with another cat?" Plumsong asked, voice harsh.

"We discussed it before we became mates. There's nothing wrong with it. I know you know that and believe that. We're both getting on in moons, Plumsong. Why not enjoy the ones we have left? You can't tell me you don't feel the same way." Yellowlily said, and now her voice was patient and gentle.

Amberleaf felt awkward now, applying the protection as quickly as he could while being thorough, and maybe he should have said something, but now it felt too late. He was surprised and he wasn't to hear that Plumsong didn't want to be mates with Yellowlily, because he had seen them go on many patrols together when he had been a kit and an apprentice, and he had always thought Plumsong liked Yellowlily in that way.

It was none of his business, though, and he didn't hear Plumsong's response because the pair moved on, much to his relief. There was no doubt in his mind that Yellowlily had been thoroughly rejected, though, and he finished getting ready, heading to Goldstar's den.

Despite the early hour, she was awake, and Skypelt was with her.

"Be quick, and be safe." Goldstar said, her eyes sweeping over him.

"I will." Amberleaf promised.

"I know you can do it." Skypelt said, touching her nose to his.

Amberleaf flinched back, glaring at her, but as always, Skypelt didn't care. She never seemed to notice and he tried, he really did, but he just couldn't, and he hoped that one day, she would understand.

With the well-wishes from his leader and mother, he headed off, nodding to Quietback, who was sitting guard, Almondfern sitting as Rainwatcher, and they were really the only cats who saw him go.

It would take a few days to get the lighthouse and back and by then his protection was likely to run thin, but Amberleaf was confident in his ability to take care of himself. He set off and went at a pace he could maintain for a time, catching some prey when he stumbled across it, glad to find it didn't have black leaking from its eyes.

He ate it and moved on, and Amberleaf liked being alone, didn't socialize too much with his clanmates, truth be told, but this... After spending a good portion of the day walking, this was nice. It was very peaceful.

Just him and the territory, the sounds of birds, the wind in the trees, because even with the rainfall, the world pushed on. Life pushed on. Not just the clan, but the rest of the world as well, and Amberleaf lost himself in the peace of it.

Even when the rainfall came, he didn't fear it as he once had. No, he just sat in a hollow in trees roots, and watched as it fell. It was good to watch the rain and he saw the circular rainbow in the sky, but he did not encounter any Unseen. In fact, the whole day was beautiful and peaceful, and when he found a place to stop for the night, he had a sense of peace he hadn't had before.

Maybe it should have bothered him that he didn't miss his clanmates. But it had been less than a full day and night, after all, and sometimes it was nice to just be alone. To be free of responsibilities. To just have the world himself, and a job to do that he was heading toward but had no immediate urgency, because he couldn't get there any faster.

Amberleaf couldn't imagine not being in his clan. He knew nothing but Hyacinthclan, and the thought of leaving them made something in him feel odd. But this time, this peace and quiet and being alone... He did enjoy it.

He had nightmares, as he often did, and tonight it was of sand welling blood beneath his paws everywhere he put it, and dark tides rolling toward him. He wok with a jolt, fur matted, heart pounding, and he still hadn't seen that... Thing... Again, and he wasn't sure how to feel about that.

It was a clear dawn outside where he had camped for the night and Amberleaf got up and shook himself, fur stiff from the protection, skin itching a bit, but it was better than falling victim to the rainfall. He shook himself and went hunting, skipping over a squirrel that had black welling from its eyes. No harm had come yet, but he didn't want to be the first cat to find out, even if he could revive.

He settled on two mice and set out, still finding that peace he had the day before.

It continued all the way to the lighthouse, actually, and he made it in about the same time Skypelt and Quietback had, though he arrived as night was falling. And just his luck, a rainfall was coming.

He could smell that metallic, odd scent that accompanied it and the area around the lighthouse was barren of shelter, just grass and other shorter growth that was messed up from repeated rainfalls. Growling, Amberleaf took off. After days of travel, his protection was wearing off, and he wasn't going to get caught in it.

The lighthouse was the only place to really go and he ran for it, his paws thumping over the ground hard. He found a smooth path leading up to it that stank of odd scents he didn't know and it was easier to run here, the dirt smooth and compacted, a huge path winding up toward the lighthouse.

Scrambling up onto it from the steep edge had definitely been the hardest part, and he ran toward the odd structure, not even being able to appreciate the sight of it in the dimming light. Hopefully, there was shelter outside it. And lacking that, maybe the Twoleg would let him in. Amberleaf had never seen a Twoleg before, but if Morbius had been cared for, maybe this one would at least offer him shelter.

As he ran, Amberleaf was heard an odd rumbling sound and saw light, but at first, he thought the light was from the lighthouse. Then he realized it wasn't. It couldn't have been. It was coming straight toward him, two points of light brighter than he had thought possible, speeding toward him like some giant, rumbling predator. Amberleaf had no idea what it was, and no idea what he was doing, either.

He was running away from the rainfall and directly toward it, and-

THUNK!

Pain exploded through every inch of his body and Amberleaf went flying, slipping over the drop of the road and into the grass below it as the rain hit, and his mouth was full of blood, his head spinning, ears ringing, nothing making sense. He was only able to briefly think monster, recognizing the thing now from the older cats' stories, before that now-familiar blackness and sensation claimed him.

He woke floating in the ocean, to upside down whales and fish, faint light above, depths below, and he clawed himself around, looking. He did not see the odd, dark shape with tentacles, and he was almost disappointed. As he had previously thought, it was more unsettling to not know where it was rather than knowing it was there.

He clawed his way around, searching for his body, and located it quickly enough, drifting many tail-lengths and slightly below him this time. Amberleaf clawed his way toward it and as he did, he saw something.

Further out, a black shape with too many limbs, clawing through the water toward him, and part of Amberleaf wanted to linger. He wanted to see if it was real or a vision, if he could touch it, maybe understand what it was. But he also didn't want to. It could possibly kill him... Or worse.

So he clawed his way through the water- he was getting quite good at swimming- and pressed his paw to his paw, and surfaced back in his body.

He was laying soaked in the ditch, the protection running off him, but he could tell by the scent that the rain was the normal kind. His body echoed with pain and his mouth was still filled with blood, but as far as he could tell, he was completely fine.

Light illuminated the raindrops and Amberleaf remembered the monster then, and he could hear footsteps, here a voice calling out, but it wasn't a cat. No, it must have been the Twoleg. He couldn't understand it and he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Forget this foolish mission. How was he supposed to see if the Twoleg really wanted Morbius back? How was he supposed to know if the Twoleg would really help her? How were they supposed to get her help?

Growling, Amberleaf staggered to his paws, blood dribbling off his tongue, and he spat, looking up at the monster lights and where the Twoleg must have been, anger and bitterness welling up in him.

"FUCK!" he spat at the Twoleg and his monster, staggering away.

His yowl had attracted the Twoleg, but he didn't care, carrying his aching body away as another light swept down, narrowly avoiding it, and tucked himself in the growth that was now shockingly tall to reorient himself for a moment or two.

He stayed there until he got his bearings and had spat most of the blood from his mouth, disappearing into the damp growth, avoiding the Twoleg. If it hadn't been such a trip from the lighthouse, it was clear that they could have just led the Twoleg to camp and put Morbius out where he could find her.

Unfortunately, that was not possible, so Amberleaf got himself moving, disappearing into the wet landscape before the Twoleg could follow.

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His coat was only covered in patchy protection by the time he got back, but he had managed to avoid the rainfalls. There had been more of them and his nightmares had come almost every night, and he had seen more prey with black leaking from their eyes, too.

The peace he had found traveling to the lighthouse was gone, and the journey back had been filled with anxiety, a worry of what he might find when he returned.

But he had no need to worry. When he arrived back at camp, he could see Buzzardglide sitting as Rainwatcher in the tree, and Pumaspot was guarding the camp entrance.

"Oh, hey. You're back." she said, and it wasn't friendly, but it wasn't unfriendly, at least.

Amberleaf didn't think they would ever be friends, but at least she didn't seem to hate him as much as she had when they were apprentices.

He nodded to her and walked into the camp, where Lester's litter was play-fighting in the clearing, his clanmates were eating and grooming under the high-sun, and it was peaceful.

They all started, of course, when he returned, and he went immediately to Goldstar's den, where Skypelt, Plumsong, and Wasp joined them. Amberleaf really wanted to sit down and wash off the remains of the protection, but he made his report first.

He explained what had happened at the lighthouse and with the Twoleg, Plumsong's whiskers twitching.

"You didn't know that was a monster?" he asked, frowning.

"No, because I've never seen one." Amberleaf said, barely keeping his tone level or himself from saying 'never fucking seen one'.

"Did you die again?" Skypelt asked, looking worried.

"Yeah." Amberleaf said and they all exchanged looks.

"Did you see it?" Plumsong asked, his voice soft, suddenly.

"Yeah. No different than normal." Amberleaf replied, but he detailed it all the same.

He had no idea what Plumsong and Wasp might think of that, but it wasn't his job.

"The Twoleg cares, but there's no way to get him here, and I don't think we could bring Morbius over that terrain." Amberleaf summed up when he was done.

"Maybe if we cut through Weedclan territory..." Wasp mused, but everyone else was already shaking their heads.

"Well, it was worth a try. Thank you, Amberleaf." Goldstar said heavily, giving him a respectful nod.

Amberleaf nodded back and was granted permission to leave, aware that the rest would stay and likely talk about the thing he had seen. About whether or not it was a sign, but he didn't care if they didn't include him.

He went to clean the protection off and slid into the water, letting it rinse it away and scrubbing his fur against the rocks, getting the mud and herb mixture out. As he did, he caught sight of a long, black tendril sliding toward his paw, and Amberleaf leapt out of the water, heart pounding.

His jaws were open to sound the alarm, but then he stopped, realizing it was nothing more than a drank drifting in the water. Growling, he reached in and grabbed it, flinging it out, and finished washing.

He was being paranoid. That was all.

But still, for days after his return, the amount of prey with black streaming from their eyes increased, and the rainfalls seemed more frequent. His nightmares came more as well. Maybe it really was a sign from Starclan, after all, a warning of something that was slowly creeping up on them. Hopefully, they would be prepared when it it arrived.

3/10/2026-3/27/2026

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[dark-tides-and-storms]

Moon 35, Part 4, POV Plumsong

Cats: Goldstar, Plumsong, Jackdawnudge, Skypelt, Buzzardglide, Petalcurrent, Civetbeak, Tumbledaisy

While Yellowlily, Quietback, and Amberpaw took Flintfur to be burned, there was still much to do in camp. Lester took Yellowpaw and Quailpaw to the apprentices' den and gave them poppy seeds to help them sleep; Yellowpaw was inconsolable and Quailpaw was trying his best to be strong, but they were still young apprentices.

Plumsong and Jackdawnudge focused on Goldstar, while Skypelt and Wasp looked after the rest of the clan. Goldstar was in shock and it honestly wasn't that surprising; their clan had been built on the ruins of the old ones, and Flintfur had been with her since before that.

Many of them had already suffered great losses in their lives, and for Goldstar to lose her deputy and mate... No surprise.

The issue was, their supply of thyme had rotted, and Plumsong was racing through the territory with Petalcurrent and Buzzardglide at his side; the children of Jackdawnudge, neither of them had ever shown interest in herbs, but they were very familiar with them.

And replenishing an entire supply when someone was actively in shock... The more cats the better.

Plumsong went to the usual patch, which they had left alone to allow to grow, and the littermates were on his heels, knowing this was urgent, and when they reached it, he let out a cry of horror.

Dead, withered stems and leaves, smelling of rot and decay, the entire swath of vegetation in the air dead and damaged, for the most part. A rainfall must have passed through here briefly, and the plants had gotten stuck in the cycle of dying but not regrowing.

It would regrow, but not in time, and Plumsong cursed, dashing away. The warriors followed on his heels ad this was what he had been dreading since these rainfalls had started; vital herbs being hit when their stocks needed to be replenished.

Goldstar had only lost one life before, so she had plenty yet, but Plumsong did not want to risk her losing one. No leader had lost a life since their connection to Starclan had broken, and he had no idea if she would be able to come back to them, or if her lost life would go to Starclan like it was supposed to.

They raced through the territory, searching, and part of Plumsong had half the mind to run straight to Foggyclan or Weedclan rather than carry on a desperate search when time was wasting away, but given the state of the world now, they might not be too willing to share. It would also be better to have Wiggity Wacks with him for that, not two warriors, and he shook himself mentally.

They raced to the next spot where they gathered time, the spot the medicine cats had collectively decided to leave alone to regrow and flourish so the patch would still be there, but they did not have much of a choice right now.

Luckily, there was still thyme to be had, and though it went against his instincts as a medicine cat, Plumsong harvested it with the warriors.

It was perfectly fine, but it smelled sickly to him, the nubs of the stalks seeming to glare accusingly at them as they bundled the herbs into their jaws, but needs must.

They turned away and sprinted back to camp, but the detour and racing away to a further part of the territory had cost them.

By the time Plumsong careened into the private part of the den, he found Jackdawnudge and Skypelt sitting beside Goldstar, who was very still in her nest.

"She's losing a life." Jackdawnudge said gruffly.

"Starclan damn it!" Plumsong shouted after setting down his bundle of herbs.

"It happens, Plumsong. She'll be mostly recovered, at least from the worst of it, by the time the life is gone." Jackdawnudge said and Plumsong peeled back his lips.

"I know that! But Starclan had abandoned us! What if she doesn't come back? What if her lost life starts forming some kind of monster? I was a medicine cat long before you ever were, Jackdaw!" he snapped, bristling.

"Hey, there's no need for that." Petalcurrent butted in, setting her herbs down as well.

"Plumsong has valid worries." Skypelt said, looking down at Goldstar.

She curled around the still form of the leader, burying her nose in her fur, and closed her eyes, likely praying to Starclan that everything would be fine. There was nothing to be done but wait and see, and as they watched, a pale, ghostly shape rose up from Goldstar.

It drifted aimlessly above her, curled and limp, and Plumsong's stomach churned. He held his breath, the four of them with their eyes open watching, waiting. It was taking too long, this wasn't how it was supposed to happen... Then suddenly the pale form of the life jerked, rising higher and higher until it had disappeared into the roof of the den.

Goldstar was still for a little longer, but then her flanks began to move again, and her eyes soon cracked open. The worst of it was gone, but she was still in shock, and as Skypelt rose and pulled away from her, the medicine cats set to work.

They did all they could, but Goldstar was still suffering from the shock, even though she was out of danger, and there was no way she could pick a deputy by moonhigh.

So the clan gathered, save for Lester's kits, Goldstar, and Goldstar's kits, and while it seemed wrong to do this with four of their warriors absent, they had no choice.

The clan cast votes by not shouting for the cat they wanted to stand in, because that could have been messy, but by laying stones gathered from around camp in that cat's nest.

When everyone had placed their stones, Plumsong went and counted them, and there were really only three contenders. But even then, the chosen cat was obvious.

"Skypelt." he said, emerging from the warriors' den.

"Our clan has chosen you to lead us and guide us until Goldstar is able to name our deputy. Do you accept this role? And do you understand it does not mean you are the deputy?" he asked, looking the she-cat down.

She bowed her head.

"I understand, and I accept this role. I will serve my clan however I can." she said and Plumsong nodded.

That was it, then.

Most of the clan gathered outside after that to hold a small vigil for Flintfur even though they did not have his body, and Plumsong returned to his patient.

He couldn't help but notice that Jackdawnudge was curled in his nest, the scent of grief wafting off him, and he was curled up as tightly as a cat could be.

Jackdawnudge was older than Plumsong, and while they had all lost their clans in the great war, Plumsong noticed that since forming Hyacinthclan, Jackdawnudge seemed a bit more effected by grief.

Copsespots and her kits, Ashtalon, and now Flintfur... Each time his fellow medicine cat had been struck heavily by his grief. Plumsong worried that one day, Jackdawnudge might not recover from that grief.

He checked on him, but Jackdawnudge ignored him, and Plumsong curled up with Goldstar, keeping her warm and monitoring her, doing his best to swallow down his own grief, too.

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Goldstar was out of danger, but the shock still took some time to wear off, along with the grief. Plumsong was also concerned that something had gone wrong when she had lost her life. The shock seemed to be gone, and the grief was to be expected, but she was so still and quiet that the medicine cats, and the clan, were worried.

Jackdawnudge was also refusing to leave his nest now, succumbing to his own grief, and Plumsong was glad that Skypelt was taking charge of the clan, because the medicine cats had enough to handle at the moment.

With a clan as small as theirs, especially in a clan formed of such tragedy, every loss hit hard. They were lucky to have only lost five cats over the past thirty-five moons, and each one was still a hard blow.

Copsespots, Firkit, Shrewkit, Ashtalon, and now Flintfur.

And Plumsong couldn't shake it out of his head that Jackdawnudge and Yellowlily, not to mention himself and even Goldstar, were getting on in moons.

More losses were more likely to happen sooner rather than later, and hopefully the clan would be able to recover from them. Of course, losses from old age were far different than the five losses they had suffered.

Yellowlily, Quietback, and Amberpaw were still gone, Yellowpaw and Quailpaw still restricted from the den because they did not need to see their mother like this, when Goldstar finally spoke, the shadows long and the light fading.

"Flintfur...?" she croaked and Plumsong turned away from the thyme he was taking care of.

Goldstar's eyes were open and unfocused, and he rushed over.

"Goldstar? It's Plumsong." he said, crouching in front of his leader.

She looked at him, her eyes dull with grief, and Plumsong had seen this enough times to know that while the shock was gone, the grief was not.

"He's gone." Goldstar whispered and Plumsong nodded.

"I'm so sorry." he said, and he was.

There wasn't a cat in the clan who had disliked Flintfur, and even his prickly old pelt had found comfort in the dark gray warrior.

"How do you feel?" Plumsong asked next.

"Thirsty." Goldstar said, and he fetched water.

Soaked the ball of moss in the little pool in the den, giving it to his patient, and fetched Lester, who got Wasp and Skypelt.

By the time he made it back, Jackdawnudge had heaved himself from his own nest and was curled up with Goldstar, white and dark ginger-spotted pelt and golden, white-marked pelt pressed so close together they seemed to be one cat, and Jackdawnudge was being oddly tender, licking Goldstar's ears.

"Goldstar. I am so sorry." Skypelt said, sympathy pulsing in her voice.

Goldstar nodded, her ears laying back at the sight of all of them, and Lester and Wasp left without a word, being the junior medicine cats. Though Plumsong wasn't quite sure if Jackdawnudge counted as a medicine cat right now, considering he was also a patient.

"Yellowlily, Quietback, and Amberpaw have taken Flintfur to be burned. He is in good paws, Goldstar, you know that." Skypelt assured her and Goldstar gave a dull nod.

Goldstar gave a feeble nod.

"My kits...?" she asked, her eyes filled with worry, despite how dull they looked.

"Quailpaw and Yellowpaw are looking after each other. Yellowpaw is as fine as she can be. She blames herself, little scrap, but we're all making sure she understands that it wasn't her fault." Plumsong said and Goldstar closed her eyes.

"I should-"

"No. You may be their mother, but you are allowed to grieve. And forgive me, Goldstar, but they really shouldn't see you like this. Not right now." Skypelt cut in, her voice firm.

"Goldstar, I hate to ask right now, but we need to know. What... What happened when you lost your life? Was it like what Amberpaw described?" Plumsong asked, because they had to know.

Starclan had been silent for eight moons now, and while Amberpaw had revived, Flintfur and others had died, and no leaders had lost lives (that they knew of) since all this had started happening.

"I... I was on the Beach of Stars. But it wasn't... It was quite right. I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything. I felt... Stuck." Goldstar said, her breath hitching.

She had lost a life before, and this was certainly not how it had gone. The beach and the ocean were consistent with what Amberpaw had said, but being on the sand rather than the water and being stuck was not.

"Then?" Skypelt prompted.

"I think... Flintfur... I think he guided me to Starclan." Goldstar said softly and Plumsong's ears pricked.

"You made it to Starclan?" he asked, shocked.

"Someone... A cat with gray fur... They pulled me into the water. And when I surfaced, I was standing in Starclan. I saw Mallowstar." she said, referring to the last lives-blessed leader of Oleanderclan.

"Did she say anything?" Plumsong asked softly.

"I couldn't hear her. It was like she was trying to speak underwater. There was... Something between us." Goldstar said and laid her head on her paws.

"I'm sorry. That's all I remember." she said, voice growing soft as she did.

"Don't apologize." Plumsong said sharply, because this was better news than he had hoped for.

Well, not exactly better, but it at least meant despite all the strangeness, Starclan was still there. Still trying to talk to them, it seemed. Even if they were unable. But that still left all the questions they had been grappling with for moons, and part of Plumsong wanted to demand more answers out of Goldstar, but he knew she did not have them.

There was nothing more to discuss right now. Goldstar was in clearly no state to choose a deputy, so they let her have peace. She refused the mouse Plumsong brought her and he let it go now, bringing her herbs instead that she lapped up. Then she curled up with Jackdawnudge and closed her eyes, the two pressing tightly against each other.

Plumsong let them be, sitting at the entrance of the den, watching as the last of light slipped away. He would tell Lester and Wasp what Goldstar had said soon, but right now, he wanted to ponder it. What did it mean? Why was Starclan cut off from them? Why did this cut Starclan off from them in the first place?

Clearly, Starlcan was aware and trying, but what was this ocean and beach? It wasn't truly the Beach of Stars. And a cat with gray fur... Had it been Flintfur? Another warrior? Perhaps Ashtalon? But no, the length must have been obvious, and Flintfur had- had had long fur. So not Ashtalon.

Had it been... Had it been Skypelt? Plumsong had to wonder that for an instant. After all, the she-cat had curled up with Goldstar, and shortly after, Goldstar's life had broken free.

But no. No, Skypelt had never shown any unusual abilities nor had she come to him or Jackdawnudge about dreams or omens.

Then again, Amberpaw had seemed completely normal... Until he had been killed. And he somehow possessed the ability to sense the Unseen as well.

It was late when Plumsong sought out Skypelt, Wasp and Lester informed, thoughts to be puzzled over even though no answers would come.

Tumbledaisy was perched in the tree as the rainwatcher, as usual, a post she took pride in, because admittedly, a blind cat as a warrior could be difficult at times, but these days, well... But her sense of smell was unrivaled, and she had proved wonderful at detecting rainfalls.

Skypelt was sitting at the edge of camp, looking out over the ocean, and Plumsong joined her.

"Skypelt, I need to ask.. Have you ever had strange dreams before? Anything... Unusual... That you can't quite explain?" Plumsong asked bluntly when neither of them said anything.

Skypelt blinked, swiveling her head, and angled her ears.

"What? Like Amberpaw?" she asked after a beat, as if processing his words.

"Yes, or something else." Plumsong said and Skypelt shook her head.

"Not that I know of." Skypelt replied, letting out a soft mrrow. "Why?"

"I was just wondering." Plumsong said, shaking his head.

It had been foolish. They had been in a clan together for thirty-five moons, had traveled here before that, and surely he would have noticed if there was something strange about her, if she had dreams or abilities.

Skypelt nodded and Plumsong began to get to his paws, but Skypelt spoke.

"Plumsong... If you don't mind, would sit with me for a while? I could use some company." she said and Plumsong was surprised.

But he found he couldn't deny her the request and he sat next to her, their pelts brushing, looking up at the stars until, finally, they both returned to their nests.

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"Let all cats of the clan gather beneath the tree for a clan meeting!"

Goldstar's voice rang out clearly through the clearing, but the clan had more or less already been waiting, and it hardly took them any time to gather.

Goldstar had certainly looked better and she was still grieving deeply, but she had managed to get up from her nest and speak to her kits, and today she was doing her duty to the clan by appointing the new deputy.

Yellowlily, Quietback, and Amberpaw had returned by this point, and they had told them how the journey to and from had gone, as well as how the burning had gone. It seemed to have worked as originally planned, which was good, and Goldstar plunged on.

"I need to appoint our new deputy. Flintfur... Flintfur served us well, but we can not have the place vacant, and he would understand. So Starclan, hear and approve my choice. Skypelt, if you are willing, I would like to become Hyacinthclan's new deputy." Goldstar said, and no one was surprised.

Skypelt stepped forward and bowed her head respectfully.

"I am willing, Goldstar."

"Do you swear to uphold the duties of a deputy, to look after your clan, to care for them when I am unable, and to ultimately lead them when I am gone?" Goldstar asked, not the traditional words, exactly, but much about their clan was not traditional.

"I do."

"Then I am name you deputy of Hyacinthclan. May you serve us well." Goldstar said, leaping down to rest her muzzle on Skypelt's forehead.

When she was done, she climbed back into the tree, waiting until the clan's cheers had died down. The cheers felt almost inappropriate with their grief, but they cheered anyway.

"And there is another matter I need to address. Yellowpaw, you not only lost your father, you lost your mentor. And you need a new one. I will mentor you, when I am able, and for now, I ask that Civetbeak take Yellowpaw on alongside Amberpaw, if you can." she said, looking at the dark warrior.

Buzzardglide leaned over and repeated the words in her brother's ears.

"Yes, leader, I am fine with that." Civetbeak said with a nod, and that was it.

Goldstar ended the meeting and slipped back into her den, and Plumsong followed after. She was still grieving, still in pain, and so was Jackdawnudge. Well, they all were, but those two cats, they were suffering from it the most.

But, at least, Goldstar had ensured that even in her grief, the clan had stability, and that was all Plumsong could ask her for right now. He had to hope, that in the moons to comes, despite another loss, that Hyacinthclan would recover once more.

11/4/2025-11/9/2025

[dark-tides-and-storms]

Moon 30 Part 2: POV Goldstar

Cats: Goldstar, Flintfur, Jackdawnudge, Plumsong, Wasp, Skypelt, Civetbeak, Amberpaw

When the patrol came back to camp, Goldstar immediately knew something was wrong. She was outside the nursery, watching Yellowkit and Quailkit play, relaxing with her kits, when they returned, and immediately alarmed prickled her pelt.

Flintfur was leaning on Skypelt, walking a bit slowly, and the scent of fear came with the patrol, Civetbeak and Amberpaw at the back. Strangely, the apprentice seemed to be the most calm.

Flintfur's black pelt was splattered with white and Goldstar was already on her paws, leaving her kits under the eye of Yellowlily, Tulipkit, and Fogkit.

"Goldstar." Flintfur called to her, but she was there in an instant.

"What happened?" she demanded, brushing her nose against her mate's cheek.

The lingering scents of fear and pain clung to his pelt and she realized the white splatter was actually his fur, not something on it, and she recoiled.

"What happened?" she repeated.

"I believe we need to discuss it privately first, with the medicine cats." Flintfur said, though those in camp were all peering at them curiously.

"You need to go to the medicine cat den, Flintfur." Skypelt said.

"Then we can meet there." Goldstar said, taking her mate's weight from the she-cat.

They went to the large medicine cat den, expanded to house their multiple medicine cats and patients, and Jackdawnudge was the first to meet them.

"What happened?" the old cat asked, seeming puzzled when there was no obvious injury.

"We're not sure. It doesn't hurt now, at least." Flintfur said, but he allowed himself to be guided over to the nest.

Plumsong was sorting herbs and Wasp was nowhere to be seen, but Amberpaw was sent to fetch her. They were in the clearing and came immediately as Jackdawnudge inspected his patient.

"This is strange to me." he said, parting Flintfur's pelt, and Goldstar saw the mottling of black across his skin.

"What happened?" she demanded for a third time and the patrol recounted what had happened.

The animals fleeing, the storm, the rain, what it had done when it had touched Flintfur and the deer, and Goldstar had to force her fur to lay flat. But there was terror in her heart, not only because of this strange rain and what it could do, but what had almost happened to Flintfur.

They had been since early in the founding of Hyacinthclan and he had been her deputy since they had formed, and she loved him dearly. She didn't know how she would lead the clan without him, and the terror that he had nearly died, that he could have ended up like this deer, terrified her in ways she could not describe.

"Could this be some kind of sign from Starclan?" she asked, getting her head together.

She was the leader, she had to stay strong for her clan, even if she was currently a queen. Goldstar turned her gaze to the medicine cats, looking them over, hoping for answers. Wasp was new to the clan, with them for less than six moons, but she had an undeniable connection to Starclan and was good with herbs besides. Plumsong technically had seniority, but still, they all deferred to Jackdawnudge.

Plumsong seemed to be thinking, paws kneading the ground, Wasp just looked dumbstruck, and Jackdawnudge's expression was unreadable.

"Starclan doesn't typically send such... Deadly things. There have been no whispers, no dreams, no omens, nothing. I don't think this could be Starclan." Plumsong said, flicking his tail.

"I never saw anything like that, not even on my own. Never heard of it either." Wasp said, coiling her own tail tightly around herself.

"I... Was any of it black? Did you see anything... Strange?" Jackdawnudge rasped and they all looked at him.

"Like what?" Skypelt asked.

"If you have to ask, then you didn't." Jackdawnudge said and everyone wanted answers.

Except Civetbeak; hard of hearing, the tom hadn't heard what his father had quietly said, though he had become adept at reading lips.

He had been watching Plumsong, however, and Jackdawnudge refused to elaborate.

"I felt something." Amberpaw said, his voice quiet.

Goldstar looked at the apprentice, sitting well out of everyone's reach, and Plumsong sat forward.

"What did you feel?" he demanded, bronze eyes sharp.

"I- Uh- I don't know. It was just something. Like something was there, but there was nothing to see." Amberpaw said, scuffing his paw against the floor.

Plumsong seemed annoyed, but there was nothing more they could get out of Amberpaw. Perhaps it had been a Starclan cat, perhaps something in Amberpaw's head... Or soemthing else altogether.

But there was no way now, and Jackdawnudge and Plumsong said they would go to the Beach of Stars tonight, even if it wasn't a half moon tonight.

"Do you think the other clans saw anything? It came from over Weedclan's territory." Flintfur said and that didn't help Goldstar's unease.

What if all of Weedclan had died from that? What if they were lying like that deer that had been described to her in the territory and camp? And what if it happened again? Would Hyacinthclan be safe? How could they protect themselves?

"I'll send warriors, and you as well, Wasp. A medicine cat is sure to ease anything. Wiggity Wacks as well." Goldstar said, speaking of their mediator.

"I can do that-" Flintfur began, but Jackdawnudge's paw shot out.

"You're staying here and resting. This injury is strange; there is no telling what could come of it." he growled and Flintfur sank back down to his moss.

Goldstar organized the patrol quickly, not only to go to Weedclan but to Ferretclan, Kinkclan, and Foggyclan as well, if they could. Skypelt headed it and took Stoneleaf, Wasp, Wiggity Wacks, and Tumbledaisy with her.

Then she checked on Flintfur, burying her nose in his pelt, breathing in his scent, and he licked her cheek.

"I'm all right, Goldstar." he murmured, licking her again.

"I know. I know. But I can't imagine losing you." Goldstar whispered, rubbing against him gently.

She stayed a little longer and then went to her kits, checking on them and explaining to them that Flintfur was in the medicine cat den, but he was in good paws.

Then she sought out Amberpaw, who was sitting on the shore of the lake, batting listlessly at a piece of kelp.

"Amberpaw." she said and he glanced up.

Truth be told, she still saw him as a little kit, even though he was six moons. It wasn't so long ago that the entire clan had been worried about his wellbeing and feared he would die, and the day Ashtalon had died, he had been brought back to camp in Skypelt's jaws, even as she helped Quietback carry Ashtalon.

Amberkit, as he had been called then, had snuck out of camp because he had wanted to see his father on patrol, go with him like a warrior, because his father had been a great warrior, and luckily he hadn't seen what had happened. They had found him on the way back, wet and bedraggled from a tumble in a stream, repeatedly asking what had happened to Ashtalon.

How little and innocent he had seemed that day. But he was a 'paw now, and had become a very closed-off cat. He hadn't been able to stand for anyone to touch him since Ashtalon had died, and no one knew why. Jackdawnudge said that it was likely a result of trauma; he had only been three moons old and been through so much, after all.

"Yes, leader?" Amberpaw asked, sitting up.

"I want to thank you for saving Flintfur. I... That was a very brave thing you did. Thank you." Goldstar said earnestly.

Amberpaw just shrugged. "I wasn't going to leave him."

"You saved our deputy, but more than that, you saved my mate, the father of my kits, and thanks to you, they still have their father. I... Thank you." Goldstar said weakly, realizing she was being incredibly vulnerable to a six-moon-old apprentice, and neither of them needed that.

He just nodded and that was that, she supposed.

"Get some fresh-kill and rest." she told him.

Later, she would make an announcement to the rest of the clan about the strange rain and what had happened. They needed to know, even though she hoped it was something that would not happen again. The patrol she had sent out would only return in the morning, reporting that the other four clans were safe and had not seen anything of the sort. But they were warned, and in the days to follow, the medicine cats from those clans and deputies would come and demand answers.

Goldstar would take them to the remains of the deer and they would have to admit it wasn't natural, that Hyacinthclanw wasn't making it up.

And Jackdawnudge and Plumsong would have nothing to report. No word from Starclan, no omen, no sign, no explanation, no dream, nothing. Either it was something Starclan was keeping silent about for a reason, it was something they didn't know about, or... Or Starclan had abandoned them. That was something Goldstar could not even bring herself to consider.

But, that rain, what had happened... It was only the beginning.

7/27/2025-7/28/2025

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[dark-tides-and-storms]

Moon 36, Part 2, POV Yellowpaw

Cats: Goldstar, Jackdawnudge, Plumsong, Wasp, Lester, Quietback, Amberleaf, Yellowpaw

Two days after she had told Amberleaf about her dreams, Yellowpaw stood outside her mother's den, scuffing her paws in the soft earth, wondering what to do.

He was probably right and she should tell Goldstar, at least, but... What if she was worrying about nothing? Or, even worse, what if it was something? She hadn't been having the dreams for more than a moon, but... If it was something, she should tell somehow.

And it would be easier to talk to her mother than it would be Jackdawnudge or Plumsong, or even Wasp or Lester. Jackdawnudge seemed so old and fragile right now, and Plumsong had always sort of scared her. Wasp was pretty reserved and kept to herself, and Lester was busy learning the finer points of being a medicine cat and had her kits.

She hesitated, thinking, knowing she was likely going to not do it for a moment, until her mother spoke.

"Yellowpaw? Come in, honey. You don't need to stand out there." Goldstar called and that made up Yellowpaw's mind.

She came in and found her mother in her nest, grooming her golden coat, exactly like the golden parts of Yellowpaw's own pelt. The nest was still big enough for multiple cats to share and an ache struck Yellowpaw just then, because there was still space for her father. But he wasn't every coming back.

"Hi, Mama." she said and Goldstar rose to her paws.

"What's wrong?" she asked, reading Yellowpaw instantly.

"Umm... Mama, I need to talk to you about something. And maybe I should have before, but..." Yellowpaw said, shuffling her paws again.

Immediately, Goldstar sat beside her, wrapping her tail around her and pulling her close. Her scent wrapped around Yellowpaw and she felt like a kit again, because her mother's scent was comfort and warmth.

"You can tell me anything, my sweet. Anything at all. You don't have to be scared. I might be leader, but I am still your mother." Goldstar said, licking her ears comfortingly.

"I've... I've been having... Nightmares. Mostly since Papa died, but they're not about Papa." Yellowpaw admitted and it all came spilling out.

Everything she had told Amberleaf, the details, including the thing pulling cats down into the water, and Goldstar stiffened at that part.

"What is it, Mama?" Yellowpaw asked, looking up at her mother.

"It's... We need to go talk to the medicine cats, all right?" Goldstar said and Yellowpaw's fur stood on end.

"Are they signs? Should have I spoken up sooner?" she asked, her voice choked.

"No, Yellowpaw, no. It's all right. But this is something they should hear." Goldstar said quickly, licking her ears.

Yellowpaw followed her as she went to the medicine cats' den, Goldstar calling out for Skypelt to send Quietback and Amberleaf to the den, and all four medicine cats were present when they entered.

Lester was covering herself in protection, Wasp helping, and they looked surprised when Goldstar walked in.

"Thorn in your paw again, eh?" Jackdawnudge said, looking at Yellowpaw.

Yellowpaw felt a flush of an embarrassement; as a kit, her parents had brought her to the den frequently because she had had a talent for finding any stray thorn in camp and getting it stuck in her paw.

"No. Yellowpaw has been having dreams, Jackdawnudge. Dreams I think the four of you need to hear about." Goldstar said and Yellowpaw shrank down under the gazes of the cats.

"I ain't very good at this dream stuff, Goldstar. I don't think I'll be able to do much." Lester said, shaking her head.

"You're a medicine cat, you learn." Plumsong said sourly, weaving his way out of the storage.

Lester made a face at him and Goldstar sat down, Yellowpaw sitting down as well.

"Well, kit?" Plumsong said impatiently before anyone else could speak.

"We need to wait for Quietback and Amberleaf." Goldstar said and Jackdawnudge frowned.

"But not your deputy?" he asked, but Goldstar ignored him.

The two warriors joined them and Amberleaf looked around, nodding to Yellowpaw, and Quietback seemed very confused.

"Why are we here, Goldstar?" he asked respectfully.

"I want you all to hear what Yellowpaw has to say. I know this is a lot of cats, kitten, but you already told Amberleaf and I. You can do it again." Goldstar said and Yellowpaw swallowed.

She found herself focusing on the nettles hanging by Amberleaf's ear as she spoke again, because she didn't like all the eyes on her, but she was distracted by the stink of fear that suddenly came off Quietback. Wasp looked at the warrior, but to Yellowpaw's surrpise, no one seemed too surprised about this cat with the tentacles.

"Did... Did you already know?" she asked cautiously, guilt prickling her pelt.

If this was something they had already known, then she should have told someone a long time ago, when she had first started having the nightmares. Though she had only seen that black, tentacled shape once, truth be told.

Jackdawnudge's tail was bushed, she noticed, and the old cat looked stricken.

"I... I saw something like that moons ago, on the beach." Quietback told her, shivering a little.

"When?" Yellowpaw blurted.

"About-"

"Yellowpaw, before anyone says anything further, I want you to promise me you will not discuss these things with anyone but the cats currently in this den. Not even your brother." Goldstar said and Yellowpaw blinked.

"Why, Mama?"

"Because I do not want to frighten the clan. Not until we have more information." Goldstar answered and that made something squirm in the pit of Yellowpaw's stomach.

"Yes, Mama. I promise." she said and Goldstar nodded.

"About four moons ago now. It was in the ocean... But it was gone in the blink of an eye." Quietback said, describing the thing he had seen in the ocean.

It made Yellowpaw press into her mother again, because this was even more terrifying than her dreams, and Amberleaf curled his tail more tightly around his paws.

Jackdawnudge was gripping the ground tightly with his claws.

"Are you sure it was real?" Amberleaf asked softly.

"Well, no. It was gone as soon as it had come, and there was no black or anything when it had gone." Quietback admitted with a shake of his hand.

"It could be this Starclan, right?" Lester asked and everyone looked at her.

It was no secret that Lester didn't quite believe in Starclan, though she didn't not believe in it, but sometimes her bluntness regarding could be little surprising.

"Visions, perhaps. You could be right, Lester." Plumsong said, scraping a paw over the ground.

"But why would Starclan send them to someone so young?" Wasp asked and the fact she didn't even question Quietback annoyed Yellowpaw a little.

Not that she wanted Starclan to send her messages and prophetic dreams- some cats got forced into medicine cat training for that in the other clans- but it did annoy her that she was immediately questioned because of her age.

"Starclan has been silent for moons now. If they haven't abandoned us, maybe they are merely reaching out to any cat they can, and it so happens that Quietback and Yellowpaw are the cats able to receive the messages for the time being." Plumsong argued and that made something in Yellowpaw relax a little.

Maybe she wasn't special like that after all. Maybe it was just that Starclan was trying everyone, and she so happened to be the one they could reach at the moment.

"It felt very real when I saw it." Quietback said uneasily.

"Some visions and messages do. I saw plenty of things that seemed real during the war." Plumsong said, flicking his tail.

"Amberleaf has had nightmares, too." Goldstar chimed in and Amberleaf hunched down when everyone looked at him.

"What sort of nightmares?" Wasp asked, tilting her head.

"Just nightmares. Sort of like Yellowpaw's." Amberleaf said with a shrug.

Yellowpaw felt guilty for telling Goldstar about it, but Amberleaf didn't seem mad about it, at least.

"We will just have to keep our eyes out and prepare. That is all we can do for now." Jackdawnudge said into the silence that followed, and there were murmurs of agreement.

Yellowpaw blinked. She had always imagined the medicine cats, leaders, and deputies having far more intense discussions when it came to things like the possibility of visions, not just decide to wait and see what would happen. It made the medicine cats feel less... Mystical was probably the right word there.

"That's it?" she blurted out and everyone looked at her.

"What else do you think we can do, Yellowpaw? If these are visions, there is nothing to do but wait and prepare. We will likely bring it to the medicine cats of the other clans to see if any of them now of something similar." Plumsong asked, looking her over.

Yellowpaw felt embarrassed and shuffled her paws, and shortly after, she, Amberleaf, and Quietback were dismissed. Quietback hurried away without a word, seeming disturbed, and that startled Yellowpaw, if she was being honest.

Once away from the den, Yellowpaw looked up at Amberleaf.

"Are you mad at me for telling Mama?" she asked worriedly.

He shook his head.

"I probably should have told the medicine cats a long time ago. Don't worry, you did good." he assured her, then went off to join the patrols.

Yellowpaw had to wait, since her mother was her mentor, and she sat in the clearing, grooming her pelt, her eyes going to the sky. No stars, but that didn't matter.

Were they really visions? Her nightmares, Amberleaf's nightmares, and what Quietback had seen... What Quietback had seen seemed so real, the way he had told it.

She shuddered because whether that had been real or not, the nightmares could be visions from Starclan, and that... That scared Yellowpaw to her core.

11/27/2025-12/5/2025

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[dark-tides-and-storms]

Moon 31, Part 1: Plumsong POV

Cats: Plumsong

TW/CW: Kitten death

Plumsong was glad to have some time to himself, away from Wasp and Jackdawnudge. This past moon had been... Something else.

The strange rain had only been the first of its kind. Twice more it had rained since then, and once it had been what Flintfur's patrol had discovered.

Already, the other medicine cats had met together at the sacred pool, but Starclan was silent on the matter. Plumsong couldn't help but wonder if Starclan had abandoned them, or was cursing them for something. With the silence, at the Pool of Oaks and the Beach of Stars, there was no way to tell, and they had already made discoveries about the strange rain, despite it having only fallenthree times.

Once it touched something, it was harmless to anything else that touched it. Which was why the moss Civetbeak had slapped on Flintfur in a desperate effort to do something had likely saved the cat's life. Whatever was hit first, if it was living- cat, prey, plant- was harmed and effected, but things like soil, rocks, driftwood, and water were not touched. Buzzardglide, idiot cat, had proven the water was safe to drink after volunteering to try it and not waiting for an answer.

They still didn't know what had caused it or why, or if it would go, but at least they had a way to defend against it. The hardest thing right now was figuring out how to make that defense work.

Quietback had suggested creating a coating to protect those out on patrols, some sort of mixture to rub on their pelts, one that wouldn't wash away as easily as mud would in the rain.

And that was why Plumsong was out here now, looking for herbs to experiment with, and, unfortunately, the only way to test it would be coating a cat in the experimental mixtures or capturing prey and torturing the poor things.

But if it worked, it worked, and Plumsong already knew Yellowlily, their eldest cat, and Goldstar, with her eight remaining lives, would be volunteering to test it.

As he sniffed around, searching for unusual things, things that could be made into a sticky poultice that was hard to wash off, Plumsong caught a noise on the breeze, making his ears prick.

He cocked his head and listened again, catching the tiny noise, and he realized it sounded like a kitten mewling pitifully.

Cautiously but quickly, Plumsong moved toward the noise, the chill pulling at his fur, the air still having a tang of that latest rainfall, even though it had been last night.

His pelt prickled as he thought of some poor loner kitten getting caught out in it and slowly dying, and how he might have to end the kitten's suffering.

He was half-right. Plumsong found a poor attempt at a den, exposed at just the wrong angle, and white-splattered lumps of fur inside. The smell of blood and death were sharp from that poor little shelter, and he took a moment to recognize what he was seeing.

A queen, a queen who had likely, panicked and in labor, had sought what little shelter she could find from the rain, not realizing what it truly was.

Her kits had died from exposure, save for one that was splattered white as well, their bodies sunken and mutilated like the deer the entire clan had gone to see.

It sickened Plumsong to see, and then... He saw a little bundle of fur, squirming in the wet pelts of the siblings, the noise pitiful and heartbreaking.

The kitten looked odd and twisted, almost, splattered in white, clearly not part of its pelt, like Plumsong's own white markings were. It was weak and crying, pawing at the cold body of the mother, for milk, for comfort, and there was pain in there, too.

Delicately, Plumsong caught the little thing in his teeth and lifted it away, making it whimper, and rested it between his paws.

"Oh, poor mite." he whispered after examining it.

It was slowly dying, as he had thought. The injuries inflicted by the rain were slowly killing it, and even with Flintfur, Plumsong, Jackdawnnudge, and Wasp hadn't been able to figure out how to treat him other than time and rest.

This little kit was also far too cold, far too hungry, and he knew if he took it back to camp and tried to save it, he would only be prolonging its suffering.

Heart heavy as the kit squirmed into the warmth of his belly fur and tried to seek milk he would never have, Plumsong curled around it and licked its head, trying to offer comfort.

Its cries settled into pitiful noises and ragged breathing, and he licked it until it was calmer, until he was certain it felt comforted in some way.

"Poor mite." he murmured again, giving the kit one last lick.

Then he snapped its neck, quickly and efficiently, ending its suffering.

After that, Plumsong went nearby and began to dig, digging a deep hole large enough for the queen and her litter, muttering prayers to the silent Starclan all the while.

He dug until he was satisfied and then gently lifted the queen's body first, noting idly that she had more toes than was usual on all her paws, and her kits were all the same.

He laid her in the grave, in the fresh damp soil, and placed her kits against the curve of her belly, arranging the bodies the best he could so she was curled around them, protecting them, holding them, as she couldn't in life.

He hoped they padded with their ancestors now.

Covering the grave with the soil, Plumsong pressed a rock into the top, a marker, and, for now, gave up on his search for herbs, instead returning to the clan to report what he had found.

7/29/2025-7/31/2025

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