In your opinion, which is by far the worst name in the canon books? (aside from SkyClan as their names are normally odd)
FOXHEART LOL. I mean on one hand, its absolutely hilarious and a true demonstration of character that they would actually name a cat that, but on the other holy cats guys that's like naming them... words I won't say because I try to keep this blog kid-friendly. LIKE GUYS. DID YOU THINK THIS THROUGH.
There’s a bunch of legends and folklore I wanna write for this AU, and I don’t know if I’m gonna have the chance to get it all out in the story. These are:
The story of Spottedflower, the queen who gave up her chance to join Starclan so she could instead guide the souls of lost kits and apprentices there.
The story of the vixen with jet-black fur who saved the life of Ripplestar, first leader of Riverclan.
The story of the Sunningrocks Bet between The Golden One and The Spotted One
And others, explaining things like the turn of the seasons, the Longnight, the First Clans coming down from the Mother’s Teeth, the origin of Mothermouth and the Moonstone, and how the Otherfolk came from beyond the horizon.
Kits and apprentices who die before they get their warrior name are given another chance by Silverpelt. They won’t remember anything of their past life, and there’s no guarantee they’ll be born into the same Clan, let alone the same family. Some say older cats get this chance too, but younger cats get to return first. Others say it’s all a nursery tale made to ease a cat’s grief. At the end of the day, nobody knows for certain.
But sometimes, at a Gathering, a cat will catch a glimpse of a familiar face, only to look again and see a stranger.
Kits and apprentices who die before they get their warrior name are given another chance by Silverpelt. They won’t remember anything of their past life, and there’s no guarantee they’ll be born into the same Clan, let alone the same family. Some say older cats get this chance too, but younger cats get to return first. Others say it’s all a nursery tale made to ease a cat’s grief. At the end of the day, nobody knows for certain.
But sometimes, at a Gathering, a cat will catch a glimpse of a familiar face, only to look again and see a stranger.
Thinking about streamlining the family trees, so they’ll be easier to read. Then resuming work on the story.
I’m sorry it’s been so long without an update, guys. College and my personal life have been really difficult these past couple of years. Thank you all so much for still sticking with me.
You are so valid, looking back on the series as someone a little older, I really wish there'd been any good representation. I really like what you've had so far! Ravenpaw's POV imo seems like one of the most interesting ones, even if it could get pretty intense.
Thank you so much! I’m worrying I’m winding up pulling the teeth out of some aspects, but also that might be my anxiety talking, haha. I’m hoping that, even with the edits to the storyline, I can make this a good adaptation and still keep folks entertained and on their toes. I really appreciate that you took the time to say something, gosh. I’ve had at least one foot in this fandom since I was nine, over a decade ago now, and I’ve come back to the first books multiple times. While they’ll always hold a sort of magic for me, well, there’s a lot lacking too. I’m really hoping that I can help contribute to that gap. It means so much to me to know that there’s people out there reading and enjoying my work. You’re the best. <3
In light of the poor treatment of Warriors’ female characters, I have made the decision to not stop with the first or even the second series. I’m gonna just rework everything as we get to it, with the probable exception of DotC. Because I just don’t see a way to fit that into the restructured world here.
The off-screen death was the last straw, honestly.
“But Mama,” Ravenkit whined, leaning away as Willowpelt’s tongue rasped at his shoulder, “I don’t want to be an apprentice yet! I’m not ready!”
The gray molly sighed, moving to pin her kit between her paws like an unruly toddler. “Raven, darling, you’re too big for the nursery now. And we need the room you’re taking up to house the new kits and queens. Besides, you don’t want to watch your sister and brother grow up without you, do you?” She flicked her tail, indicating where the kits’ father, Whitestorm, was helping his other son, Graykit, work the tangles out of his long, fluffy pelt. Mallowkit, their sister, was busy stalking a beetle, her amber eyes focused on her prey. A swift pounce, and it was caught under a paw.
“But Mama,” Ravenkit whined, leaning away as Willowpelt’s tongue rasped at his shoulder, “I don’t want to be an apprentice yet! I’m not ready!”
The gray molly sighed, moving to pin her kit between her paws like an unruly toddler. “Raven, darling, you’re too big for the nursery now. And we need the room you’re taking up to house the new kits and queens. Besides, you don’t want to watch your sister and brother grow up without you, do you?” She flicked her tail, indicating where the kits’ father, Whitestorm, was helping his other son, Graykit, work the tangles out of his long, fluffy pelt. Mallowkit, their sister, was busy stalking a beetle, her amber eyes focused on her prey. A swift pounce, and it was caught under a paw.
Ravenkit sighed, black ears drooping. “I’m just scared, Mama. Can’t we do this tomorrow?”
Whitestorm lifted his head from Graykit’s tail. “If we put it off one day, you’ll want to put it off another. And another after that, and after that. I know growing up can be scary, but think about all you’ll learn as an apprentice and all you’ll do as a warrior!”
“Yeah,” Mallowkit chirped, the beetle already forgotten and scurrying away to safety. “I mean, how’re we gonna keep our territory safe if we don’t learn how to fight? I hope we get to chase a fox off tomorrow! Or fight one of the other Clans!”
Graykit laughed, squirming out from under his father’s paws. “Really, Mallow? Skinny as you are, I bet you couldn’t fight a rabbit!”
“I can fight you, you big mossy lump!” Laughing and squealing, the two kits pounced at each other and fell into the grass, rolling and wrestling.
Willowpelt sighed fondly. “They take after my littermates. Mousefur and Rushfoot never could keep their pelts clean when we were young.”
Whitestorm laughed, gently tugging the children apart. “You can play later, once your mentors have shown you battle moves to practice.”
Graypaw grinned. “Who do you think we’ll get? I hope I get Lionheart or Tigerclaw as a mentor! They’re great fighters.”
“Or Robinwing,” Mallowkit suggested. “She’s not as big as the others, but she’s fast! I heard she took out a whole nest of badgers all on her own!”
“Being a warrior isn’t all about fighting,” a new voice chided. One-Eye, an old gray molly with a scarred face, stepped around the edge of the nursery and sat in the shade of an old maple tree. “Remember, dear, it’s the warriors that feed the Clan, the warriors that pass the wisdom of our ancestors on to the young, and the warriors who keep our Clan running.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Willowpelt said, moving to brush her cheek against the older molly’s forehead. “Besides, Graykit, Lionheart is already training Quailpaw. Now, unless a cat can suddenly train two apprentices, I think he’s got his paws full.”
“He has more than enough to handle already,” Whitestorm agreed. “Quailpaw has more energy than I’ve seen in an apprentice in seasons.”
One-Eye laughed. “Oh, he’s no worse than Rushfoot was as an apprentice. Though it will get harder to keep him in line now that new-leaf is on us.”
Willowpelt nodded. “I’m looking forward to the change, honestly. Even if it will mean more unruly apprentices and young warriors, it means we’re free of greencough.”
Ravenkit paused in grooming his tail, remembering the nurserymates, Asterkit and Otterkit, that had died early in the winter. They had been the littermates of Quailpaw and Spottedleaf’s apprentice Birchpaw, and were just days from their own apprenticehood before they had become ill. The queen Leafcloud and two of her kits, Barkkit and Fawnkit, had passed away as well. Stormkit was the only survivor, and had been a foster-sister to Willowpelt’s litter.
Then a longhaired gray molly popped out of the nursery, stumbling over to where her adopted siblings sat. “What’s going on, Mama?”
Willowpelt sighed. Leafcloud had died in kitting; Willowpelt was the only mother Stormkit had ever known. Before she could speak, though, Mallowkit leapt up and bounded over to her younger sister. “We’re going to be apprenticed today, Stormie!”
The little kit’s eyes went wide as her tail fluffed out. “We are?! Oh my gosh, that’s awesome! When? Do I look okay? Oh, who am I being apprenticed to?”
Whitestorm laughed, leaning over to groom the child’s head. “You’re still a bit too young, kiddo. Remember, your siblings are a couple of moons older than you.”
“…Oh.” Stormkit’s ears drooped. “Does that mean I’m gonna be in the nursery all alone?”
Mallowkit flicked an ear in Ravenkit’s direction. “Raven wants to be a kit forever, but he’s a whiny baby.”
“Mallow!” Willowpelt’s tone was sharp. “Be nice to your brother. It’s perfectly normal to be worried about growing up.” She turned to Stormkit. “Besides, dear. You’re not going to be alone at all. I’ll be staying in the nursery with you until you’re apprenticed, and you can help Brindleface and I settle the new queens in this new-leaf. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
Stormkit sighed. “I guess.”
“We’ll come visit,” Graykit offered. “And we’ll show you all the cool things we learned from our mentors! Then you’ll be ahead when it’s time to start your own training!”
Stormkit seemed to perk up at that. “Really?” She turned to Ravenkit. “You gotta go too then! I wanna learn as much as I can!”
Ravenkit sighed. “Stormie...” He shook his head. “I can’t say no to that face. Fine, no more complaining from me.”
Mallow’s triumphant teasing was cut off by a rush of activity at the camp entrance, as a brown tabby tom came tumbling through, dragging a large rabbit along with him. He regained his footing and composure long enough to gently place the slightly-battered piece of prey on the fresh-kill pile, and then came bounding over to the cluster of cats by the nursery.
“I’m not too late, am I? I came back as quick as I could! Redtail was being such a stick in the mud, all ‘slow down’ and ‘have more respect for the prey.’ My niece and nephews are about to be apprenticed! I can’t miss that!”
Willowpelt laughed and headbutted her brother in the shoulder. “Calm down, Rushfoot, you’re not late at all. Bluestar likely won’t hold the ceremony until sunhigh.”
“Sounds like someone’s got in trouble with the deputy for no reason, then,” a dark tabby growled, stomping into the camp.
A dusky brown molly slipped in after the tabby, a lanky red tom beside her. “Darkstripe, don’t be such a brat. Or did that vole drop burrs in your tail when it slipped between your paws?”
The red tom growled and shoved himself between the three cats. “Enough! I won’t have another word from any of you three. That’s the last time any of you go on a hunting patrol for the next moon. You’ll be lucky if I don’t confine your tails to camp!” Still muttering under his breath, he snatched up the thrush he’d set down, placed it on the pile, and stalked back out of camp.
One-eye flicked an ear and beckoned the molly over with her tail. “Go fetch the rest in a moment, Mousefur. What’s gotten Redtail so cranky today?”
Mousefur shrugged. “No idea, Mama. But if I leave him to take all the prey back in, I know I won’t see another Gathering for at least two moons.” Dipping her head in an apology, she turned and scurried back out of camp.
Rushfoot stood up. “Me too, probably. I don’t know if there’s so much that all four of us will need to carry things back, but… It’s probably best if I go help.” With that, the tom padded after his sister.
Ravenkit frowned, eyes still locked on the entry tunnel. “Redtail seems scary when he’s angry. I don’t think I want him for my mentor.”
One-eye laughed and pulled the kit close. “Now hush, you. Redtail’s a sweetheart, he’s just having a bad day. Did I ever tell you about my mentor, Ashflight, and how she was acting the day I was apprenticed?”
Ravenkit turned with eager eyes. “No, but I’d love to hear it!” The elders’ stories were one of the things he’d miss most about the nursery, but with apprenticehood came Gatherings, which meant he’d have a chance to speak with the elders of the other Clans and learn their stories as well. It was something of a comfort, at least.
“Well,” One-eye started. “As you know, Fogpelt and I were rather rowdy kits. I’ve told you all about the shenanigans we got up to.” At Ravenkit’s nod, she continued. “Well. He and I were having one last game of mossball that turned into a wrestling match. And do you know what happened?”
“What?” Mallowkit was still for once, listening eagerly with her tail curled over her paws.
“We blundered straight into the fresh-kill pile. Just as Ashflight was setting her catch down.” She smiled as the kits gasped. “All three of us went tumbling halfway across camp, food scattered everywhere. Oh goodness, did we get a chewing-out! I thought I’d rather have a badger for a mentor than her.”
Graykit’s eyes widened. “Wasn’t it a badger that got your eye?”
One-eye nodded gravely. “Ashflight died defending me from that badger. That was also the day I got my warrior name. I might’ve been a little afraid of her at first, but after just a little while? I came to recognize that Ashflight was the best mentor I could have asked for.” She bent her head and licked Ravenkit’s nose. “So if you get apprenticed to Redtail today, just remember – Sometimes the scariest mentors are the best ones to have.”
Ravenkit tipped his head to the side thoughtfully, mulling this new advice over. “So the scarier the mentor is, the better off I’ll be?”
One-Eye winced. “Not… Exactly. But there’s not a cat in Thunderclan who would be a bad mentor for you or your siblings.”
Just then, Bluestar emerged from her den, Redtail beside her. She smiled at Ravenkit as she turned and hopped up to the top of the Great Rock.
Ravenkit’s ears flattened. “I, uh. I forgot something in the nursery! I gotta go get it!” He turned and started to sprint back into the tangle of brush that had protected him and his littermates for so long. Whitestorm grabbed his scruff gently and tugged him back towards the clearing.
“You can get it later. Now it’s time for your ceremony.”
Sure enough, Bluestar’s voice rang over the clearing. “All cats old enough to catch their own prey come before me. I call Thunderclan to meet!”
Ravenkit didn’t even realize his fur was bristling again until Willowpelt’s tongue rasped over his head. “Calm down, little one.” Her tone was probably meant to be reassuring, but the tom thought he saw exasperation in his mother’s eyes. “You’ll be fine. I promise.”
“I dunno,” Mallowkit jeered. “You might get Tigerclaw or Darkstripe as a mentor. They won’t put up with a baby like you.”
Graykit reached out and bopped his sister’s head. “Shuddup, Mal. He’s actually scared, don’t tease him.”
Ravenkit’s ears flattened. “I’m not scared,” he muttered, but the rest of his retort was cut off by One-eye’s nose nudging him forward.
“Quit jabbering and get out there!”
Ravenkit looked up to see Bluestar peering down from the Great Rock, a good-natured look of annoyance on her face.
“If we’re all ready to begin?” The cats gathered around chuckled at that. Stomach twisting with embarrassment, Ravenkit stepped forward into the center of the clearing.
I am pleasantly surprised to see new folks come and follow this blog when I’ve been quiet for so long.
I’m still working on things, I promise. I’ve been considering just going ahead and posting chapter one this weekend, since it’s been literal ages since the last one. Chapter two is at least somewhat written, and I know where it’s going, so that’s probably gonna be up... Before December. But I write at a glacial pace, so that’s all I can promise at the moment.
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