#Lore [first BloodClan short <3]

I will put something here soon, I promise. Again, probably BeachClan cuz I like that group best so far I think
The thing I wrote for S/M is doing very well though! I'm 15k in, finally into the first roadbump after rising action. I want to have one more emotional high point before the climax, but the path is fully plotted all I have to do is follow it and hope the characters don't wander too far off the plan.

Tribe of the Sleeping Fire-Fang

Okay so I'm going to make this Post hold all the things I'm going to write for this Tribe because I've been working on this on and off for probably 5 days now and it's getting pretty full of amazing stories just waiting to happen. I'm still working on some of the allegiances (there's already 40+ cats done and going to be a total of 71 within the Tribe and a few outsiders... it's a Lot). So here's a thread to put some of those shorts on if I do end up writing them! I'm putting this up empty for a few more days while I sort out the rest of the allegiances and figure out who I want to write about first (totally comment on any that draw your eye as protagonists! I made them all so they have a personal short story involved, even outside the big plotline.) But yea, take a peek see who you like and hopefully someone will pick a cat to focus on so I don't have to choose ;)

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Salamander that Waits for Rain

[[ I would love to explore Salamander and Stone-Fang's relationship and struggle but while it's one thing to write about a blind character, it's a completely different thing to have a character that's struggling with going blind and idk if I'm ready or able to do that arc justice. I may have a few smaller scenes with them but that story may not be something I can tell and do right. ]]

"Let's stop for the day," I say. I touch my nose to his shoulder and with him I don't need to hide the wince of pain the action causes me. Stone-Fang snarls and jerks around so quickly he would have knocked any taller cat over. As it is, he stumbles over my shoulders and jumps backward just as quickly, slamming himself into the side of the cavern. Another wince comes over my muzzle, this time in sympathy for the older tom.

I let Stone-Fang find his way to his paws by himself. There are some things a cat must not have help with. It is something I know well, and so I give him the space and time he needs to reorient himself. Despite his frustration, Stone-Fang uses the walls as I recommended him to do during our first days of learning, finding the stone with his fur and whiskers and using the touch to ground him in the space he cannot see. I smile. "Good. We can pick up here tomorrow, okay?" And because I know it hurts Stone-Fang's pride to think it's his weakness that causes our breaks, I continue, "Shimmer said she'll finish the story of the whale today if we bring her some fish. We gotta get over there before its all gone."

"Yeah, whales," Stone-Fang mutters, which is as good as I'm going to get from him in his foul mood. It's more work, but I pull myself more in line with the grey tom before starting out of the tunnel, so he can easily follow the sound of scraping bark.

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Shadow of Hawk's Wing

[[ A cute scene with some kits and queens and characterization of some of the Place of Dark Stone cats!! Also to those of you that are thinking stalagmites are only with sedimentary rocks a) apparently there can rarely be lava-dripped igneous stalagmites which I did not know before writing this (even if they wouldn't be possible in magma chambers like this one) and b) these cats are literally conjuring magic suns and have plants that are from opposite ocean island flora idc about realism on this one ehhe ]]

Shadow ducked back in the shade, scowling at the sunlight. Not that the shade did much with the humidity as high as it was; Shadow couldn't understand why she felt like she was drowning in the ocean and hotter than a fire. She dragged herself deeper into the tunnels and the temperature did drop some, which allowed the long-furred she-cat to breathe easier even as she forged her way into the depths of the mountainside. Turning a corner into a small side chamber was like stepping into another world and a chill breeze from the mountain's core was refreshing even if the air tasted stale.

The chamber was filled with the Tribe's scent, thicker than the humidity outside, and voices echoed throughout the dark space, punctuated by the sharp squeals of kits. Breeze's voice cut through them all and Shadow followed the sound until her eyes caught the glint of light reflecting off the polished bits of volcanic stone. Sun hung from between the stalactites, casting long, dark, teeth of shadows over the dark stone. Kits erupted from the darkness, chasing a clod of moss tangled in Breeze's tail. The sunlight followed far above the tomcat's head, casting him in a spotlight as he darted around the nursery, shouting encouragement to the kits squealing as they tripped over clumsy paws.

"Shadow!" a she-cat's voice mock whispered, pulling her attention into the darkness where the stone sucked up Breeze's light and left the spaces in between hollow and bare. She picked out the reflection of eyes in the gaps and snuck around the edge of the light towards the queens. "He finally got them all doing the same thing," the voice explained softly, which turned out to be Swift. Once Shadow's eyes adjusted to the greater gloom further away from Breeze, she could pick out the four queens tucked between stalagmites, relaxing while the kits were occupied. Thunder and Blossom spoke softly, as if a loud noise would break the fragile peace they had managed to find; even Ivy was silent, worrying at getting pebbles out from the moss of her nest rather than indulge in conversation.

Shadow nodded to Swift and left the expecting queen watching out over the nursery at Breeze and the kits, then crossed over to Blossom and dropped the herbs from her mouth and beneath her chin, shaking her fur to dissipate the worst of the cloying herb-scent. "How's it?" 

"Fine," Blossom said, too shortly and too quickly to be true. Shadow stared at her until she gave in. "A little painful," she finally admitted. "But Thunder said that was normal."

Shadow huffed and looked pointedly at the calico she-cat, who merely shrugged and flopped onto her side. "Ivy's kitting was anything but normal. What did Breeze say?" Blossom's silence confirmed what she suspected: he hadn't told Breeze. Shadow sighed. "Where does it hurt the most? Can you show me?"

She went over Blossom's heavy stomach with her paws, tapping and prodding as she went. She read Blossom's expressions more than her words, though he did say where the worst of the pain and kicks were coming from and sounded relieved to finally have someone to confide in. They finished up and Shadow nudged a few herbs from the pile for the queen to eat. "This should help keep you strong, though they may make you a little tired," Shadow explained, though fortunately Blossom didn't require any cajoling to lap up the herbs, though he made a face at their bitterness. "The pains are normal." She didn't miss the look Thunder shot her from over her shoulder, though she did turn to pointedly ignore the calico queen. "Just keep note of this one here," Shadow placed a paw on Blossom's stomach as she spoke, "and tell Breeze immediately if it gets any worse, or wakes you up at night." Blossom nodded, but Shadow pushed, "we want you to be safe, and Breeze knows what to do, okay? He's been doing this longer than I have and he can help you."

"Okay," Blossom said, his eyes wide. Shadow didn't want to scare the young cat, and she hoped that would be enough to convince the new queen to go to Breeze for help. 

It was then that the kits found the queen's hiding space. They only had a second's warning before the group tumbled in on Dolphin's heels; the oldest tortoiseshell she-kit bustled through the space, knocking into the back of Shadow's paws before diving into the nest Ivy had spent so long tidying, sending feathers and moss flying and half the stones the queen had collected skittering back under the pile. Breeze's light bobbed into the nook just in time for Shadow to catch Ivy's distraught face harden into resignation as the queen pulled her oldest kit out of the pile by the scruff and dropped her beside her siblings. 

Shadow stood protectively over her pile of herbs to ward off any other stray paws, debating whether she should check in on Swift while she was in the nursery with pregnancy herbs, but the young, grey queen was busy helping Thunder disentangle her litter from under the calico's paws and she wasn't far enough along that Shadow would be able to do much yet, so she left Swift and instead gathered the herbs back into their packages as best she could with the kits crowding around and caught Breeze's eye, flicking her head to gesture the nursery helper out of the ring of stalagmites. Breeze shook the moss scraps from the long fur around his tail, sending the kits into another flurry of motion as they raced to try and catch the scraps before they hit the ground. The light dipped down above Breeze's head for a moment, highlighting the dark tomcat in a bright halo until he flicked his ears and sent it bobbing to a standstill above the nursery hollow, illuminating the queens trying again to get the kits in line.

Breeze smiled at the scene before slipping out to join Shadow in the long shadows beyond the stalagmites. "Everything okay, Coz?" he asked once they were out of easy earshot of the queens. He was still facing the light, however, and Shadow knew half of his attention was tensed and waiting in case the queens called out and needed help, no matter how safe the inner nursery was.

She'd keep it quick. "No, I was just checking on Blossom. His kits will be here within the moon." Breeze nodded absently; she was just repeating things he already knew. "I know you'll keep an eye on her, but she told me she was having some sharp pains recently. It's probably nothing, but keep an open ear in case it gets worse. He's not one to admit to things going wrong."

"Makes sense, she's always a bit quiet." They stood in silence for a few heartbeats, and while Shadow didn't want to leave the cool nursery, she had other things to do and so did Breeze. "Thanks, Coz."

"Call me if you need anything," she said, more out of habit than anything; Breeze was more than capable of knowing what to do if anything happened. It brought closure to the conversation regardless and she picked up the herbs as the nursery helper trotted back towards the queens and kits, not wanting them out of his sight a moment longer than necessary. 

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Leopard Seal that Feasts on Gulls

Hawk, I read from Mirror's drooping tail sign. It was a similar motion to the Tribe of Wandering Birds' "kingfisher", though perhaps more emphatic on the stroke. A twist of the dark brown tomcat's ears and a flick of his hind paw directed Screech and I around the mountain's rim to the right, and I settled into position beside the older council member as he choose a spot between two stones to wait.

I hadn't noticed the white-breasted bird high above in the mist. The mountainside felt enough like the cliffs that I should think to look down for prey, it is another thing to be reminded that something else can look down on us. "He'll be fine," Screech said, and I only then realized my fur was bristling up against the older tom's side.

"I know that," I hissed back, scooting away and forcing my hackles down. Even on the dark stone, Mirror's fur shimmered out in the open mountainside and soon enough the hawk caught eye and began circling lower. Already the sunrise tasted heavy of salt, turning my tongue to sandpaper even when the air felt moist enough to swim in. I blinked and the hawk was gone.

I shot out from behind the boulder on Screech's paws, the dark stone burning as I skidded across to where Mirror ducked low under the hawk's talons. The hawk, realizing its prey was not as helpless as it thought, pulled up from the swoop back into the air, but even though we were still a tree-length away, Screech leapt up into the air. The russet tomcat hung suspended for a heartbeat then slammed his paws down hard, and the hawk shrieked as it was buffeted by the surge of wind the Air speaker conjured, losing all it's forward momentum as its wings beat uselessly at the down current thrusting it back to the earth. "Quick!"

Screech's performance shook the breath from me, but Mirror was already clawing at one of the hawk's wings, hauling it out of the sky. It would only be seconds before the hawk stopped trying to escape the fierce airstream and fought back. I gulped a deep breath and let the wind explode inside me, thrusting cool air down my limbs and into my paws as I channeled my own Air, using the burst of speed to leap onto the hawk's back and pin it to the ground. Screech's Air was indiscriminate of friend or foe, and buffeted my fur as I dug my claws into the hawk's body to keep myself from being thrown off. I took another deep breath and pushed down, directing Screech's Air forcefully to the hawk's pinned wings.

The storm raged in my lungs, deafeningly loud in the gale, and my vision blurred as if I was underwater. I curled my claws in tighter to the hawk's feathers, its blood hot and stinging against my scraped paws, the Air pushing me down until my shoulders trembled with the force of it. "Stop! Seal, stop!" The words echoed in my head and it took a few pulses of the blood in my ears for the meaning to sink in. I let go of my breath and the Air fell out with a whoomph, leaving my insides empty. I staggered sideways and someone caught me. "No need to overdo it, kid."

I pulled in another breath, tasteless after the fury of Air. Mirror bumped my shoulder as he left, and I managed to stay on my paws. "Not everyone is as powerful as Screech. Though it's nice to have another Air speaker for hawks I suppose, even if you have more spunk than grace."

The barb prickled and I tipped my ears back. "At least I was more than bait," I snapped.

Mirror's green eyes flashed and I regretted rising to the bait as the larger tom stepped forward. My ears pressed further back in his shadow. "And who do you think killed the thing while Screech held it down and you stood there frozen, hm?"

Screech pushed his way between us, giving me enough to space to take a step back and gather myself. "Enough," he growled, pushing his voice low and forceful for that one word. Another cat may have given orders then, but Screech merely looked between the two of us and pointedly back at the dead hawk and started down the trail to camp without another word, leaving us to deal with the massive bird on our own. Punishment or learning to work together or something like that, if Screech was one to lecture.

The brown tomcat's glare was enough reproach, and I felt guilty enough of undermining his role in the hunt that I was about to apologize, but he was already gone and the moment sunk into the stone. Gritting my teeth, I plodded over to the opposite wing and grabbed the feathers in my jaws, feeling the sun and exhaustion already searing into my pelt. But Mirror started to drag and I did my best to pull my weight in this task, at least. I was glad the journey to camp was downhill.

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The Place of Wandering Birds

[[ No narrator, just some pov swapping omniscient. Hopefully isn't too hard to follow! I'm actually writing this before the character descriptions this time, so let's see how they progress. I'm kinda salty that I made them... nicer? than I should have? Later in the plotline, they do try to cede from the rest of the Clan, so having so many of them that are not isolationist may be difficult to have that work if I still want to go that direction.
Also by golly is this a huge family drama?? it is! (tw: abuse mention, nothing specific, just that it happened)
]]

"Talon calls forth all cats of the Place of Wandering Birds to hear their words!" Cove's voice crashed over the cliffside like the roar of a storm's tide against the stones, echoing through the main cavern like a crack of thunder.

Cricket cringed against the sudden clamor and Tern nudged up against her reassuringly. "Let's both of us go to the gathering this time, Cricket," he said softly, a breath of voice he knew would calm his sister. "Ridge's mate is expecting and I would think they would attend as well. It has been moons since we have spoken to them."

The small white she-cat dipped her head into Tern's shoulder and he felt the barest of nods.

Talon gripped his long claws into the stone and pulled himself up onto a stone ledge so he could look over the Tribe, the rest of whom were trickling into the main cavern from the other tunnels in pairs. Cove stood directly below him, the old she-cat's dusky grey fur like a wisp of cloud patiently waiting to cast rain on anyone who drew too close. Talon waited a few more seconds as Moon helped pull Trail up onto the cavern floor by her scruff, then began when the two she-cats were comfortably settling beside Salt.

"As you all know," he started, voice heavy. Moon stopped fussing over Trail's rumpled fur and turned her attention to their leader above. "there's a full-moon gathering at the Place of Dark Stone in two day's time. Any cat that wishes to attend should speak up now."

"Cricket and I will go," Tern spoke up. The white tomcat was supporting Cricket, who half disappeared into his fur, the whites of both their pelts blurring into a single puff of cloud with only Cricket's bright yellow eyes shining outward and her fluffy tail draped over the dark stone.

Whale glared over at his kits, though Cricket couldn't see him and Tern pointedly averted his eyes when he felt his father's stare, but they all knew that the healer could not come when Asp was so close to kitting. Instead, the cream tabby tomcat snarled and turned on his paws, exiting the cave before the meeting was even over with a faint muttered excuse about checking in on the queen.

Cloud watched her father's exit and felt the stirrings of anger in her belly. "I'll go!" she called out before she could convince herself otherwise. Tern turned to her with surprise in his wide eyes, and she matched his gaze, fire burning in her pelt, until her elder brother looked away, whispering something to Cricket. The cream fur on Cloud's spine rose as she watched, seething, envying and disdaining her older sibling's closeness as Cricket leaned further into her brother's sturdy flank.

A tan talon watched Cloud, then stepped up closer to Cove and Talon and away from the others, placing herself in the center of the clearing that wasn't as populated as the edges. "I'd like to go too, then," Driftwood said with a determined nod. The younger she-cat knew she could do anything Cloud could, despite being four moons her junior, and she'd never been to a gathering before. Driftwood couldn't imagine more cats than those that lived in the Place of Wandering Birds all in the same place at the same time, and while she expected it to be too noisy, it was an experience she wasn't going to let Cloud hold over her.

Owl sighed as the talons both stepped up. There usually weren't this many volunteers for a gathering outside of voting times, and he knew Tern and Cricket weren't the cats he'd choose to have watching over the troublesome talons: Cricket could hardly see past her own skittishness and Tern was wholly focused on his sister's well-being and didn't have time for any distractions. So Owl stepped forward beside Driftwood and dipped his head. "I'll escort them." The brown tom looked over his shoulder to Salt, pleading his mate to join him.

The large black tom twitched his whiskers in that gentle, silent laugh he had and spoke up. "I can represent the Place of Wandering Birds this moon," Salt mewed, before Cove had a chance to take the role. He glanced at the pale grey she-cat for permission, because even if they were both council members with equal right to represent the group, there was no doubt that Cove could force him off it if she wanted to.

But Cove dipped her head, allowing it, surprising him as she usually wanted the chance to pick up more gossip at the bi-monthly gathering of the Tribe. "I trust these five cats will represent our camp well," she said, her powerful voice carrying over the camp and making Talon's closing remarks feel insignificant and formal in its wake. Salt brushed his cheek across Owl's, both toms peering across the main cavern to Cloud and Driftwood, where the two talons were speaking excitedly. 

"Thanks," Owl said softly, words just meant for his mate's ears. "I know you don't like leaving camp."

The black tomcat shook his head. "I trust Moon with our daughter. It has been too long since I have visited the Place of Dark Stone outside of festival." He checked Trail, contented himself of her genuine laughter with the silvery Moon, and gave another twitch of his whiskers. 

"They're talking about us," Moon whispered conspiratorially to Trail, amusement deepening her musical voice. 

Trail peeped a glance over at her fathers, catching Salt's muzzle nudged up against Owl's ear. She looked back to Moon and pulled a face. "I wish they wouldn't fuss so much. I've been a fang longer than I've been a talon now! I can take care of myself."

"You'd miss it if they stopped fussing, though," Moon said honestly, purring as she poked a paw into the swirl of black on Trail's shoulder. 

The tortoiseshell she-cat smiled and ducked her head, licking at her chest fur. "Maybe," Trail conceded. "Though I'm glad they are taking time for themselves for once." Moon hummed agreement, resting her chin on Trail's shoulder and taking comfort in the she-cat's closeness. "We should check on Asp," Trail finally said, breaking their comfortable silence after a few moments.

The main cavern had all but cleared out after Talon climbed down from his perch and Cove disappeared from where she'd been lurking underneath. Trail got to her paws and started out of the cavern with Moon sticking close to her side; Trail would find a path to the nursery on her own, but the silvery she-cat was ready to help if her mate asked for it.

"Going to the nursery?" Bubble asked as the two she-cats reached the ledge. She didn't mean to startle them, but Moon jumped as Bubble peeled herself from the shadows at the edge of the cave and into the sunset shining bright rays into the cavern. 

It was Trail that replied. "Yeah, Asp needs better company than Whale." Trail's tone was not quite biting, but close enough to it that Bubble's fur prickled against the barb to their healer, even as she knew the two she-cats only wanted to help her mother.

Bubble backed off, curling her claws against the edge of the cliff face. "Just let her know that Tusk and I wish we could stop by more often and that we wish her well." She didn't know if her brother would even care enough to send well-wishes to their mother --he certainly wouldn't stop by more often even if he had the time, and guiltily, Bubble knew she was avoiding Asp as well-- but she included him anyways. Trail frowned but nodded, and Bubble hopped down the cliff face before she could say anything further.

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Spine of Lizard's Tail

Shell huffed and sat on the stone, licking her scraped paw pad with an overdramatic frown. "Why do we even have to have fighting training? It's not like the village cats will ever come to the cliffs." 

"Because," scoffed Cloud, as if she were explaining to a kit the sky was blue. "Every Tribe member has to be able to fight. If we didn't fight, we'd be no better than those lazy village cats eating from human hands." The cream she-cat wrinkled her nose at that, like she could smell the rotting fish from the village trash piles from here.

Splash narrowed their eyes at the two talons and gave a faint growl, drawing their attention back to them. I sat up straighter even if I wasn't part of the conversation, keeping my eyes locked on the black and white fang. "Spine," they said, annoyance dripping off the word until it stung, "you'll show Shell how to do that move properly."

I nodded and jumped to my paws; Splash hated when the trainees wasted time and I feared wearing their patience any thinner. Shell moved into the ring more slowly, limping on the scuffed paw. Without warning, I hooked my own paw around her weakened one, pulling it out from under her and sending Shell stumbling to the side, off balance, though she was prepared enough that she didn't fall onto the unforgiving stone. "Good. Shell next."

She glowered as she placed her paw gingerly against the stone, bracing herself in front of me. She used her other paw to attempt to hook mine as I had, but she was avoiding putting the weight on her injured side and so she couldn't put any weight behind the blow. My paws stood planted in the earth and when I hopped backwards, Shell's claw snagged in my fur and she was the one dragged to the ground with a startled squeak.

Shell lay in a puddle of white fur on the dark stone of the cavern as Splash stomped their way across the training ground and kicked her with a paw. They had their claws sheathed this time. "Go," they spat, "Let Cove know you're available for whatever task she sees fit since you obviously think there's a better use for your time than training." I stepped back from Shell slowly, sliding into place beside Driftwood at the edge of the cavern. She scoffed as Shell pulled herself to her paws under Splash's glare and limped to the track leading to camp. Shell didn't look back as she disappeared from the mouth of the cavern, her tan tail-tip flicking away.

Splash swung back to face the rest of us and I couldn't help but flinch at the patched fang's rage. Shell might not have to face the consequences of her actions, but didn't she realize that angering Splash only made it harder for the rest of us that actually cared about learning from them? "Pair up," Splash growled, flicking their own black-tipped tail dismissively. "Spine with Cloud. Driftwood with Otter."

Cloud was across the cave floor, picking at the pebbles with unsheathed claws and rolling them about. She hopped to at Splash's command, however, meeting me in one of the training circles carved into the stone with a friendly smile. "Good riddance," Cloud said in greeting, "I'm glad neither of my siblings are here. They'd probably both agree with your airheaded sister." The cream talon rolled her eyes with another quirked smile. I didn't know what to say to that, so I held my silence. Splash was busy instructing Driftwood and Otter, and soon the two were locked in a tussle, though it was clear Driftwood was easily trouncing the older talon, even if she was a head shorter and moons younger. Cloud followed my eyes and nodded with a snort. "At least you have one littermate that's not absolutely useless."

[[ are authors notes back in style? they should be. Anyways, poor Cloud gets a lot of bad traits from her father and also from those she looks up to. I love that I can use her to prod Spine, who has a little more mixed feelings on Shell's lack of commitment to training. ]]

"You two," Splash said, coming up beside our ring. Cloud stood straighter, pulling herself a full head above me as she gave Splash her attention. I tried to follow suit as best I could, perking my ears to give me a little extra height to match up to the older talon. "As you know, only the top two talons will become fangs this winter solstice." They didn't need to voice that the contest for the second spot was between Driftwood and I: Otter and Shell wouldn't pass even the first assessment, and Cloud was all but assured first place being older and more skilled than me and my littermates. 

Splash stepped into the ring. "Show me what you have learned."

"You want both of us to attack you?" I asked, shocked. But even as I stood still, Cloud was already leaping towards the scarred fang, pulling a sheathed paw down his flank to mime the rake of claws before twisting down and away in a flash. She crouched at the edge of the ring, her fur spiked from the explosive motion. 

Splash smiled, one of the few times I'd ever seen a smile cross their scarred face. "Cloud doesn't ask permission," they mewed softly, a complement Cloud didn't miss as her eyes flashed with pride as the cream she-cat lowered herself to a crouch again, her claws clicking against the stone.

we have ~drama~ starting. Gonna be a nice juicy family conflict with this one, which hopefully will end well. I like the characters its created and it'll do well with the later plotlines

Me: I don't write enough >:(
Also me: writes 4k of Tribe as a "break" from my other writing

SilverClan

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

Willowpelt shrugged off Maplecrest's fussing. "Willie's with CLAW, they wouldn't send one agent and a kit if they wanted to hurt us, CLAW has the numbers." And the technology, they thought, glancing over at the glowing rings around Willie's tail and paws as the brown tabby spoke with Koistar. The young Sasha lurked in his shadow, with only a single metal loop around his front paw that blinked with a red light.

They could tell their father wasn't convinced as Maplecrest continued to glare in Willie's direction. Willowpelt hardly recognized Maplecrest with his ears pinned back and they brushed up against his side reassuringly. "It's just a hunting patrol," they said again, softly, butting their head against Maplecrest's shoulder one last time before leaving him in the stairwell join the patrol on the concrete outside.

Alongside the two CLAW agents and Koistar were Sootfeather, Blacknose and Birchpaw. The two senior warriors looked relaxed at a glance, but Willowpelt could see that their ease was forced and they both kept their ears pointed at the agents even as they chatted together. Birchpaw, in contrast, had the fur along his spine raised as he openly stared at Sasha. Eventually the grey tom grew tired of pointedly ignoring Birchpaw and snapped, "what?" to which Birchpaw squeaked in alarm and leapt behind his mentor.

"Stop being rude," Blacknose warned, pushing the small white tabby apprentice out from under his paws.

[[ pov swap cuz Birchpaw would be the better pov for this scene; the other stuff is still fine expo tho ]]

Birchpaw shuffled his paws, trying not to skitter back away from Sasha's gaze. "Sorry," he said, so quietly that Blacknose didn't hear him over his conversation with the deputy. Instead of Sasha, he focused instead on Willie's hind paw, counting the blinks of green and blue on the line of metal that ran up the side of the tom's leg. Birchpaw was able to lose himself in the flashes, enough that he could almost, almost forget Sasha's eyes burning through his flank until Koistar stepped aside and returned to the stairwell.

Sootfeather and Blacknose shared a laugh at some joke before the deputy waved his tail and took Koistar's spot at the front of the group, drawing Birchpaw's attention as the deputy appraised the ragtag patrol. "Okay," Sootfeather started once they were all listening. "We will show Willie and Sasha around the best hunting spots."

Willie dipped his head. "Just hunt as you normally would. We won't slow you down, but we appreciate allowing us to tag along." He flicked his tail in a low arc and a red speck blinked from the fur near his tail-tip, dim enough that Birchpaw only noticed because he was watching the flashes before.

"Birchpaw!" Blacknose called when he fell behind, wondering what the light was for. The apprentice had to run to catch up to the patrol, ending up beside Sasha as the older toms chatted in the front, pointing out landmarks for Willie who nodded along. He had his tail quirked upwards, and Birchpaw noted that the dim red light still blinked at steady intervals.

"I can't believe you can find enough prey here," Sasha said, shocking Birchpaw, who didn't expect the younger cat to talk to him after his glaring in camp.

He nodded excitedly, wanting to keep Sasha's attention. "There's plenty of prey if you know where to look! And SilverClan knows all the best spots," he said smugly, hoping Sasha wouldn't ask for specifics that Birchpaw didn't remember. He wasn't very good at directions.

The patrol followed a loose formation in the alleys behind the camp, a safe space where twolegs rarely came by and city cats didn't dare travel. It would be impossible to keep the city cats out of SilverClan's hunting grounds entirely --Wrenstar had tried that shortly after SilverClan established hunting grounds in the city; that was one of the most popular stories of the Moon's Path-- but the Clan held a few blocks that were respectfully avoided.

Which is why Birchpaw jumped a foot in the air when a cat fell from above right in front of him and Sasha. The apprentice's paws reflexively hit the alley wall and he used the height to push off and backwards, crashing into Blacknose as he brought up the rear. "For StarClan's sake," his mentor cursed, recovering faster than Birchpaw and pushing the apprentice off him before leaping away, leaving the grey apprentice winded and shocked behind.

The commotion blurred in front of his eyes and he blinked, trying hard to focus on the motion but unable to pick out any details from the swarming SilverClan cats between the looming brick walls. Birchpaw got to his paws, hissing in pain as he brought his weight down. He must have twisted a paw. Limping forward, his fur spiked, Birchpaw pushed his way in beside Sasha.

A brown striped she-cat lay on the ground in the middle of the patrol. She was most certainly dead.

CIRCLE OF GRANITE
SkyClan

Darkstone
tw: blood, injury

[[ I messed around with first person present. I hate this tense. But hey, I think it worked out? I can end this one here, maybe do a little later with it. Darkstone is a good character I like her a lot. And she has Personal Struggles; she would be a good protagonist. ]]

"Do you want help or not?" Heat flushes my pelt: anger, embarrassment, shame, a ball of emotions I don't have time to sort out as the dark grey she-cat lies bleeding under my shaking paws. I bite my lip, erasing complex feelings with the simple thrill of pain, my own blood mixing with Twigember's in the dirt as it drips freely from my chin.

Tussockleap hovers beside, her patchwork pelt a swirling distraction in the corner of my eye as it fades in and out of focus. "I'll get Rowanberry--" she stutters, stepping in as Twigember goes limp.

"For StarClan's sake, there's no time!" I hiss. She doesn't budge, so I push her forcefully aside with my shoulder, hooking my claws under her paws, and Tussockleap falls gracelessly to the ground. The other SkyClan hunters gasp at the violence and I see Waveflight's dark fur rush over to the fallen she-cat, but with a flick of my ear the rest of it falls away, my focus only on the bleeding Comet in front of me.

A ragged cross rips across Twigember's shoulders, deep and ugly, mesmerizing. I use my claws to rip up clods of dirt and grass, packing it into the wounds as I push down with my paws. The grey she-cat wakes then, writhing. "Hold her down," I grunt, unwilling to move my paws from putting pressure on the deepest parts as I try and follow Twigember's erratic movement. "You're killing her!" Tussockleap shrieks.

"Get Rowanberry!" I snap back. Waveflight arrives then, using his wide paws to weigh Twigember down. Moments pass, they must, but each second feels the same repeated over and over, a loop that never ends. Eventually, the grey she-cat slows, stills. Panic surges up, breaking the loop, and I use my nose to check hers. Waveflight lets up, hesitantly, then pulling away like he's stuck in mud. I feel warmth on my face and sigh relief, she's still breathing at least. My paws are slicked with blood, but I hope it's from the ground rather than from the wound.

The worst of the moment has passed and I keep my paws against the wound, but there's nothing more to do but wait. I blink, for the first time noticing the world beyond Twigember, and see the others cowering with Waveflight offset from the rest looking at the blood on his paws with a blank stare. "Useless," I mutter under my breath, pulling my eyes away. I'll look at the SkyClan "warriors" until my blood boils if I gave myself the chance and while the hatred feels right at home, it's not what Twigember needs right now. The Comet needs a healer, not a vengeful spirit.

The bleeding stops entirely and I gingerly lift my aching paws from Twigember's dark grey fur. I check her nose with my own again: still warm, still breathing. With a sigh I fall back on my haunches, squinting up at the sky, thanking StarClan that they shouldn't take such a young spirit so soon. I remember when Twigember was a kit, the last litter born before I left for SparkClan so many moons ago, running from that stupid omen Halfhaven divined from the stars: a shadow-cat creeping across the bridge, turning to stare at him with flashing blue eyes, a pale, pale blue that out of all the apprentices matched mine. It is the same omen that is always sent by StarClan marking which kits will become star Comets.

My dreams never find StarClan, not before that day and certainly not after I fled their summons for the desert. I still thank them for every life saved; I know well enough that even with the best healer's efforts, StarClan is the one that decides who lives and who doesn't. That is why I know that even if StarClan is silent to me, that they do not shun me; if they did, Twigember and all the others I have healed would be dead, proof that my path was to take lives, not save them. Even SparkClan's healers, seeing that, would have turned me away. Instead, StarClan grudgingly allows me to direct my own paws, and I thank them for that too every time a cat I heal walks out of my den.

---

---

Halfhaven

[[ I tried a story. It's okay, but maybe lacking some oomph and mystery. It goes get his backstory out quickly, which is all I really wanted from it, so at least it accomplishes that goal! ]]

Once upon a time there was a legendary healer, the best all the Clans had ever seen. His name was Havenfire --yes, a Comet's name, but for every drop of blood he'd spilled, cat or fox or eagle, he vowed to save a life. And he did, many times over. 

Havenfire knew his talent would be wasted if he waited in the Order of Honey's land, so he set out to wander the Clans, helping everyone in his path. He was confident that StarClan gave him the fighting skills to protect himself for a reason, but as he travelled, even bears avoided him, for he had the mark of StarClan on his fur and all creatures of the Circle know that StarClan only marks the best warriors.

So Havenfire wandered, and as he walked one day, he saw smoke on the horizon. Knowing his healing skills would be needed, he fearlessly rushed towards the inferno, but although StarClan lent all their swiftness to his paws, he arrived too late to save the queen. Exhausted from kitting, she couldn't flee. One kit was curled by her stomach, protected on one side by her flank, badly burned on the other, but still with StarClan's breath in its lungs. Havenfire spirited the kit to safety, but though it clung to life, smoke and fire and fever held the kit in death's claws.

"StarClan aid me," Havenfire pleaded, gathering what meager herbs hadn't been burned to char. He tended the kit as the sun set and continued through the night, silverpelt guiding his paws as the stars blazed with their own holy fire. The sun rose and with it, the kit gave its first fragile mewl. Despite the odds, it had been saved. Exhausted by his trial, Havenfire curled himself around the kit and slept. The kit would never leave his side again.

He named the kit Halfkit, for not only did he have only half his fur, but he also had one paw in StarClan, walking there in his dreams even before he was old enough to walk under the sun. Havenfire knew he had been gifted this kit by StarClan and vowed to teach him everything he knew, imparting both healing and fighting, life and death, to this kit that had seen both so young and survived.

Under Havenfire's careful tending, the kit healed, grew, and learned. Herbs came first and even before the kit had lost his milk teeth, he could name every herb in the Circle and its uses. Once he was strong enough, he learned how to gather those herbs and use them, and when he was big enough, Havenfire trained him to fight as only a Skipper knows how: strong, fast, and with StarClan's own will behind his blows. The kit excelled in all his training. He grew up travelling the territories, not knowing Clan or home, his only family his mentor, his father, his hero. If he had settled down, he would have realized the gift he had been given, he wouldn't have struck off on his own soon after taking his full name, thinking to find himself and continue Havenfire's legacy, would not have left him to age, sicken, die, alone.

He was too late, then, to do anything but choose a place for his grave.

Not a day has gone by since that my heart doesn't ache when I realize he is gone. 

---

---

Marshflare

[[ SkyClan has almost as many cats as my Tribe does, and it's not even the biggest Clan in the Granite Circle x.x I gave a lot of them Protagonist Energy which is good because I feel like there's a lot of stories to be told here. I am both excited for and dreading SparkClan at the same time, they'll be the biggest by far (over 100 cats what!!) but they have a lot of smaller groups and internal politics that will be super fun to mess around with; we'll have a lot of cats with a lot of conflicting motivations that should make everything that goes on there dynamic and organic.

Anyways, I respect Marshflare tons. He's a super strong character both physically and emotionally and has Seen Stuff so he should have good eyes to see this conflict through. I also get to namedrop SnowClan cats which is amazing since they're the next up, meaning I'll have a chance to knock some names off the list earlier than planned (; I also can namedrop more SkyClan cats, since I haven't touched the hunters yet which make up the bulk of the Clan. ]]

Wind cut through Marshflare's fur and he narrowed his eyes and tensed his muscles to resist the shiver that itched his pelt at the frigid disturbance. This early into leaf-fall, when the aspen leaves were only barely turning golden in the south, he never expected the cold. It was like his mind forgot the feeling even if the tundra already had inches of snow. But the chill crept into his bones regardless and the shiver finally came, fluffing his fur and rattling his tail.

They were on the rocky plains proper now, without trees or scrub brush to filter the icy air from the mountain peaks north of them. These mountains were smaller than the ones in front of the patrol facing west, SnowClan's mountains, a place SkyClan had thought inhospitable until the rugged Snowclaw claimed them as land independent of CliffClan's arid peaks. CliffClan wasn't happy about that, even if they hadn't claimed the northern range, and they certainly weren't happy now that SnowClan was conquering the passes in the south. 

Marshflare looked behind him to ensure his patrol was keeping up. They were, though some straggled far behind; he was glad Marblegleam had taken the rearguard, his rugged, silver pelt shining against the dead grass and dark stone, sticking close behind Sumacfoot who was lagging behind the rest by a significant margin. Irked, Marshflare stopped just before a ridge to allow them time to catch up.

"Why're we stoppin'? SnowClan's border's still up d'ere," Rabbitflame asked, pulling up beside him first. Rather than answer, he waved his tail towards the line of cats trudging up the hillside behind them and let her connect the dots herself. Marshflame wished one of the more experienced Comets had been available, but since he'd been the one to make their assignments that morning, he knew he'd assigned them to tasks better suited for their skills instead of being an honor guard for the restating of their alliance with SnowClan. At least he had Marblegleam: the old Comet was as dependable as a mountain and had been Marshflare's mentor back when he'd walked the Comet's path. There was few other cats he'd rather have at his back if they ran into trouble, even if he shot Marshflare sour looks back in camp as much as the rest of them.

The brown tom sighed and shook his paws to warm them. He hadn't asked to be deputy, but everyone still scowled at his back when they thought he wasn't looking. His claws itched to snick out and grab the stones and it was only with great willpower that he resisted, keeping his claws always in like a proper SkyClan deputy should. A stupid rule, but sometimes stupid rules send powerful messages; at the very least, he wouldn't give the others more reason to glare and gossip.

Softlake was next to arrive, then Luckysnarl and Stripepaw. Goldenbeam travelled with the bulk of the hunters, the young tom's eyes and tail pointing to the sky. He didn't look the least bit chilled and was vigilant, particularly compared to Rabbitflame, who only casually watched the horizons for danger, or the hunters, who did little but mill about like ducks on a pond. Finally Marblegleam arrived with Sumacfoot, giving Marshflare a nod. "Let's stick together as we get to the SnowClan border," Marshflare announced, and the others looked up to him expectantly. "This is an official negotiation of our alliance and you are all representing SkyClan by standing here."

"We know," Luckysnarl whined, earning a glare from Marshflare and a cuff over the ear from Rabbitflame. "Ow," he said, turning a hurt look to his sister. Everyone ignored him.

"Okay, let's go." Marshflare flicked his tail and the patrol followed, Sumacfoot grumbling as they were prodded to their paws by Marblegleam.

From his vantage at the top of the hill, Marshflare could see the SnowClan patrol already waiting atop a cluster of boulders, their light colored pelts contrasting sharply with the otherwise colorless landscape. He glanced over his shoulder to ensure the rest of the SkyClan patrol was following and, knowing he couldn't do anything more to prepare them, led the way down the hill to the border.

SnowClan was much smaller than SkyClan, so Marshflare was surprised to see they had brought a similar number of warriors for what should be a trivial formality; renewal of the Pact happened every year on the October quarter waxing, and this year marked the eighth since Dawnstar and Snowystar, SkyClan's current leader herself, had created the new terms. Indeed, if anything should come to pass, it was SkyClan that had reason to overturn the Pact, since SnowClan's recent invasion of CliffClan wasn't sanctioned and was, in Marshflare's eyes at least, a great liability.

He had told Snowystar as much, hoping his leader would put SkyClan's well-being above all else.

"This Powderstorm is unreasonable," Marshflare had told her after consulting with Galewhisker during one Waterfall Festival several moons prior. "We need to alter the Pact, tell Grizzlystar in no uncertain terms that we will not continue supporting them so long as they insist on invading CliffClan. He must rein in his rabid hound."

Snowystar had flicked her tail. "Despite the violence, their campaign succeeds. SkyClan supported their right to fight for their homeland once, turning our backs on them now is like admitting we had made a mistake. Besides, CliffClan has plenty of unclaimed land to the south that they haven't bothered clearing since the last Expansion. Sheerstar could use an excuse to make a name for himself."

Marshflare's claws had itched to slip out by habit, but he growled and held his ground. He had forced himself to dip his head. "I understand. But if they lose, it comes down on us too as their sponsor in this war. We already are stretched thin with ElmClan warriors supporting our border with CliffClan; if SnowClan pushes them from the Pass, that only incentivizes a SkyClan invasion, and since we are publicly supporting SnowClan's claim to that land, we cannot call ourselves victims if CliffClan bites at our tails instead."

The old leader had taken a moment at that, then shook her head and turned, her long-furred ruff obscuring her face. "We will support the Pact as our ancestors have, Marshflare. I forged that agreement with Dawnstar all those years ago, and I shall not see SkyClan be the one who turns their back on it so long as I am leader." She paused for a moment, her back still turned. "Perhaps next year, when it is your choice to make, you will see my wisdom in this."

It had been implied that Snowystar was retiring soon, but she had never stated it so plainly before. Marshflare was shocked into silence, merely dipping his head to Snowystar's back. "I'll give you permission to negotiate, however," she finally said, shocking him again as she turned to face him again, her head held high. "If we are to suffer attacks from CliffClan in the south as you say, we should ensure we have ample territory in the north to support us if we are forced to retreat from our southern hunting grounds. Impress this logic on Galewhisker; she is not unreasonable, and surely you can acquire land from SnowClan for SkyClan to hold as collateral until the end of their campaign."

At least he had some bargaining power on the table; as SnowClan's benefactor, he'd hoped he could use their significant leverage and pressure to temper SnowClan's aggression. Wasn't SkyClan supposed to advocate for non-violence and peace? The double standards of his own Clan were deeply rooted in Marshflare's mind, enough so that he deftly accounted for even the most illogical of logic in his day-to-day judgement, but sometimes he became aware of them, as if from an outsider's perspective, and that was when SkyClan's ambiguous application of rigid rules grated on him the most.

Marshflare unclenched his jaw as he reached the bottom of the hill, forcing a mild smile on his face as one of the SnowClan warriors came up to greet them. "Welcome, SkyClan warriors. I'm Blizzardtuft, senior warrior of SnowClan. I'll be escorting you to the SnowClan conference." The white tomcat gave an elaborate bow, extending a paw as he dipped his head. His black-ringed tail gently waved behind him and his long fur was meticulously groomed.

Marshflare knew his own patrol was wind-ragged from the long trek over the stone plains, but he kept his shoulders set as he dipped his head back. "I place my cats in your paws," he said, finishing the traditional greeting to a peace talk. They would only be a few pawsteps over the border, but the first treaty had been spoken on these stones, and so it would be an entire mess of politics to move it now. So Marshflare gathered his patrol closer to his side and allowed himself to be escorted by Blizzardtuft.

Grizzlystar, SnowClan's leader, stood to greet them. He was an intimidating tom, far broader than Marshflare, though with an equitable number of scars. The rest of the SnowClan cats had descended from the boulders they'd been resting on, catching what little sunlight filtered through the overcast, gloomy sky, and were now scattered between the stones with easy view of the proceedings. Marshflare flicked his tail and Marblegleam led the SkyClan party to the stones, though their group remained clustered at the base of a single boulder with the three comets taking the edge closest to SnowClan's warriors and the hunters grouped up behind them.

Galewhisker stood at Grizzlystar's side, the elderly she-cat appearing small beside him, though her green eyes were sharp as claws as she inspected Marshflare, making his fur prickle under her assessing gaze. He hadn't wanted to slight SnowClan's hospitality by choosing a comet as his representative, so Softlake was the one that stood at his shoulder for SkyClan's side.

"Marshflare," Grizzlystar greeted, his deep voice sounding like two rocks rumbling just before a landslide, "I do hope Snowystar is well."

Subtlety was something he'd expected to come from Galewhisker and so he was caught slightly off guard hearing such a probing remark from Grizzlystar, especially so early into negotiations. "She is well," he replied mildly, trying to get his bearings. "Snowystar sends her regards and apologizes that she could not attend this important event." Important event? he scolded himself, an 'important event' is nothing compared to this! Marshflare cleared his throat and tried again with a different tact, projecting out to the others watching from the boulders. "As we all know, Snowystar conceived the Pact with Dawnstar on these stones in 47, and it is only with great regret that she cannot attend the reaffirmation of our mutual ideals. She and I have spoken exhaustively and she has given me permission to negotiate in her stead. Softlake is witness to this."

On cue, Softlake nodded, the small she-cat giving a warm smile as she did so. "I am honored to have been asked to be witness to the Recalling. Snowystar has blessed our deputy, Marshflare, to speak with her voice today."

Grizzlystar huffed, but didn't press the thorn he'd set in Marshflare's flank. Both of them knew it was there, however, and as the SnowClan leader let go, the probe only festered, the subtle brush more painful than if he'd dug in his claws. Marshflare tried not to wince, stood up straighter under the guise of blocking the sudden burst of chill wind that streaked down the mountainside, thick with the smell of ice and SnowClan's musk.

The dark leader dipped his head to Galewhisker, and the slight she-cat stepped up. She may look a whisp of fur beside the massive tomcat, but when she spoke her voice echoed among the boulders with an authority he doubted even Grizzlystar could muster: "As of this night, the Starpact will no longer be recognized by StarClan. A Renewal of the Starpact will reaffirm the alliance between SnowClan and SkyClan as we engrave the words into the stars once again." She paused a moment to let the formal words set in.

"The terms of the Starpact are as follows: SkyClan 

---

---

Aspensun

"Shhhh."

"Dead leaves, crunchy," Dunefall hissed under his breath.

"What is it?" he heard Crowfire from the bridge, the dark she-cat a smudge of shadow against the grey cobblestones. She held her post as he investigated the sound, but crouched low to the ground, ready to move if the skipper needed backup.

"Just a raven," Aspensun called over his shoulder with a dismissive flick of his tail. "I'm on guard--" he whispered to Dunefall through the trees.

The tan tom took a step towards him silently, but his next cracked a stick underpaw.

"Shouldn't a raven have flown away by now?"

Dunefall froze. Aspensun shrugged, looked over his shoulder, said unconvincingly, "a very brave raven?"

He could hear Crowfire scoff from two treelengths away as she relaxed her posture, hopping onto the parapet. "Or maybe just a dumb lovebird." Aspensun's gaze snapped back into the forest, watching Dunefall grin with that wild look in his eye that made Aspensun's heart skip. "I can hold post for an hour, but you'll owe me," Crowfire said.

"Deal!" Aspensun shouted back, darting through the trees away from the bridge before she could change her mind. He crashed into Dunefall's flank, dead leaves exploding around them, a susurrus of rasping edges, like wind, like exhaled breaths. "Dumb lovebird," he muttered into Dunefall's fur.

---

---

Dewpaw

"Asterpaw!" Dewpaw hissed through the bushes, trying to catch up to her sister's bobbing white tail through the crackling, brown ferns without making so much noise that she'd get them both caught. The faint crescent of moonlight wasn't enough to see by, and Dewpaw tripped on tree roots, jagged stones and chipmunk holes several times on the pursuit; she knew Asterpaw wanted to be caught since her tail-tip was never quite out of sight despite her clumsy paws.

Finally, they reached a clearing far enough away from camp that their voices wouldn't be picked up by the feather-light sleeping Comets, but not far enough that they might be heard by the bridge watch. "What are you doing?" Dewpaw asked.

Asterpaw stood outlined in moonlight, her white-and-ginger patched fur edged with silver on one side and slipping into shadow on the other. She didn't turn as she replied: "Bravepaw. My name is Bravepaw now."

"That's a silly name," Dewpaw said. She was afraid, and so put a joking edge on her voice, though neither sister found this moonlit adventure funny. "You know we shouldn't be sneaking out at night, Asterpaw, it's against the rules."

Asterpaw was silent. She still looked into the distant forest, northwest, towards the mountains. Dewpaw followed her gaze and saw nothing but shadowy trees and the distant fog of clouds on the sides of the peaks, painted silver instead of grey by the moonlight. She thought it might be snowing there, in the heights, as a chill fall breeze cut through the forest, crackling dead leaves and hissing past withered ferns, slicing through her fur and making the silver apprentice's pelt fluff against the cold.

Seconds passed. Minutes. "I'm joining SnowClan," Asterpaw finally mewed, her voice pitched low as the rumbling of rocks before a landslide.

Dewpaw shook her head. "No you aren't, you're a SkyClan apprentice."

It was then that Asterpaw spun, a snarl on her face, moonlight etching jagged fangs. "I am going! I'm joining Powderstorm!"

"Asterpaw-"

"It's BRAVEPAW," the ginger patched she-cat snapped. She puffed her fur --it was much more intimidating than Dewpaw's kit-fluff-- and stalked a step closer, moving with a predator's grace she'd seen only in the star Comets. "And I am going. I thought you would have liked to say goodbye."

"I-I would much rather you stayed, Ast- Bravepaw." The words stuck in Dewpaw's throat, choking. When had Asterpaw ever been so intimidating? The timid sister she knew was gone and the realization that she didn't know her own sister sliced deep, stealing the breath from her like a blow.

Asterpaw pushed forward, moving out of the patch of moonlight and fully into shadow as she loomed over Dewpaw. "Powderstorm sees my potential," she said, the words tumbling out as if she couldn't speak them fast enough, "she saw me, Dewpaw. Through the Aurora."

Asterpaw's golden eyes had a fanatical glint that made her face wild, her sneer primal, and Dewpaw stumbled a step back from the force of her sister's presence. She trembled, her heart pounding fast, feeling just as terrified as the time she'd stumbled over a rattlesnake's stone; this time, she didn't have Aspensun to save her. "StarClan knows your path."

In a flash Asterpaw hissed, grabbed Dewpaw's shoulders in her claws --her claws!-- and shoved her to the ground, pushing the air from her and making Dewpaw's head spin as she slammed against the dirt hard enough to see stars. "StarClan is a pile of fox-dung," the ginger patched apprentice hissed, and she wasn't Asterpaw but Bravepaw, a stranger, a fighter. Dewpaw whimpered and shut her eyes against the sight: this cat that looked so familiar but that she did not know. "You follow StarClan so blindly, Dewpaw. I chose my destiny. I chose this." She held up a paw, her extended claws tipped with dark, red blood. Dewpaw's blood. "And no cat can take that away from me."

Bravepaw let her up and Dewpaw rolled to her paws, keeping in the defensive crouch she'd learned from Crowfire that morning. Bravepaw examined the blood on her claws for a few moments, the drops splashing into the leaves like tears of silver in the moonlight, then sheathed them again and turned her back, facing the mountains. Desperation clawed at Dewpaw watching her sister walk away. "Powderstorm is using you too, Asterpaw!" she shouted after her, her voice shrill.

The ginger apprentice whirled around again, her claws extended, but this time Dewpaw was ready and when Bravepaw pounced, Dewpaw used her momentum to shove her off and sent Bravepaw crashing through the dead leaves. "Please," Dewpaw pleaded, the shadows swimming through tears as she stood. She didn't see Bravepaw stand, didn't notice her moving until she felt Bravepaw's claws in her neck, throwing her to the ground again.

Dewpaw gasped under her sister's claws. "The Aurora chose me, not StarClan," she snarled, and Dewpaw watched as the last of Asterpaw's bright spark left Bravepaw's eyes. She watched the last bit of her sister die. "Hopefully you won't let your StarClan guide your paws for long, sister. Open your eyes." Blackness crept into Dewpaw's vision, haloing Bravepaw's face until all she could see was her dark, golden eyes.

And then she was free, the silver apprentice coughing and shaking in the dead leaves, watching Bravepaw's white tail-tip disappear into the ferns one last time before she was gone.

Aspensun is the best character from the entire cast tbh. Just a funky little gay man who wants to wander the world and visit his mate's homeClan but is trapped by his position as a skipper.

+1.2k on Marshflare's short. We have a flashback with more politics, and our first peek into how formal agreements are made within the Granite Circle. There's more politicking than expected! I know how this ends (SnowClan gives SkyClan the northern mountains) because this is technically happening ~three months in the past. But it's still cool to flesh out these moments of history!

Eclipsewing - ElmClan

---

Eclipsewing loved new kits. Kits excited her like nothing else could and picking new kits to join her Crown was her favorite of all the Fates' duties. Which is why she was the one pulling Morningbriar up, at the first light of dawn of the third day Yellowstem's kits opened their eyes.

"It's time!" Eclipsewing shouted, grabbing Morningbriar by the scruff with her teeth and using her greater strength --or at least enthusiasm-- to pull the older tortoiseshell to her paws.

Morningbriar growled and batted at Eclipsewing's paws, but she knew the Autumn Fate was just making a show of resisting, since her claws were sheathed and Morningbriar didn't really try to escape her grasp, allowing Eclipsewing to drag her to the den's entrance with only grumbles.

Eclipsewing blinked in the bright sunlight, streaming at a low angle through the proud forest's bare branches and reflecting off the pure, white snow that freshly coated the ElmClan camp clearing. The dawn after snowfall was always the brightest, after all. Eclipsewing hesitated at the den's entrance, enthralled by the perfect smooth snow. But then Morningbriar pushed around her, trudging a deep furrow through it on her way to the nursery, and Eclipsewing sighed before following in the older she-cat's path, carefully stepping into the pawprints of Morningbriar's shorter stride so that she didn't ruin more than she had to.

Like the den the Fates used in ElmClan's Dawn camp, the nursery was a brush of honeysuckle and ivy thick enough that the snow piled atop it, creating a dry, snug space beneath for the queens and kits to rest. Only a narrow gap marked the entrance, the air inside warm enough to melt the snow overtop into icicles that made rainbows dance on the snow out front.

Morningbriar pushed past that too, and Eclipsewing hurried behind her, pausing only long enough to lick the snow from her paws as she ducked into the warm nursery, trying to peek around Morningbriar's tortoiseshell shoulder to see the kits hidden in the back of the den, tucked under Yellowstem's stomach. It was Autumn's turn to claim the first kit, she knew, but every second was precious when she was trying to decide which kit would join her Spring Crown, and which she would have to give to Morningbriar's. The Fates weren't allowed to see the kits before now, though they did know their number and names from the praise and gossip around ElmClan's camp.

Eclipsewing wriggled her way beside Morningbriar, her eyes wide as she took in the kits. There were four --a lucky number, two pairs of two: a large black-and-white patched tom that she guessed was Shadowkit, many of the queens were already bragging about his boundless energy in play; a grey and ginger calico she-kit that Eclipsewing might think matched Fernkit's description, with her tall ears drooped over her face; and two nearly identical grey-and-white patched cats, one a tom and the other a molly, those would be Stormykit and Rainykit, but she didn't know which was which. She knew they would need to be opposite Crowns, however. Otherwise the balance would not be right.

"I know they're in good paws," Yellowstem mewed softly, leaning back so her long stomach fur didn't obscure the kits as much. The queen was watching the Fates with a small smile, though Eclipsewing noticed her eyes were more often on Morningbriar. She, too, knew that Autumn had first pick.

"I take Shadowkit for the Autumn Crown," Morningbriar mewed, pointing a white-tipped paw at the large tomkit.

Eclipsewing's heart thudded as her own eyes took in the remaining kits. Should she pick Fernkit now? Or one of the grey kits first? Morningbriar was watching her, eyes narrowed, ready to leap on Eclipsewing's mistake. Balance or no, the Spring needed cats that would bring pride to their Crown. "Which one is this?" She nudged the grey tomkit with her nose, who, instead of hiding, turned bright yellow eyes to stare into her own.

"Rainykit," Yellowstem provided, though Eclipsewing had already decided.

"I claim Rainykit for the Spring Crown," she announced. She didn't take her eyes off Rainykit's, and she thought there was a spark of understanding there, of kinship. Eclipsewing stepped back, satisfied with her choice.

Her next would be no choice at all, since she would have to claim whatever kit Morningbriar did not choose for Autumn. The tortoiseshell she-cat took longer this time, prodding both Fernkit and Stormkit with her nose. She retreated with a frown set deep on her face, and just as Eclipsewing was certain she'd choose neither, Morningbriar said: "Stormykit is claimed by the Autumn Crown."

Relief flooded Eclipsewing's pelt and she quickly mewed: "I claim Fernkit for the Spring Crown." She was satisfied by her choices, but also by the balance between the two. Both Spring and Autumn claimed a she-kit and a tom-kit, and both sides had a grey-patched twin. It was lucky, that way.

She followed Morningbriar from the den, dipping her head to Yellowstem and giving one last glance over the kits before she left. "So lucky!" she said as they slipped from the den and into the clearing. The pure snow sheet had been marred by many paws, driving meandering paths through the snow, and so Eclipsewing didn't hesitate before throwing herself into it headfirst, sending cold flakes sluicing down her spine. "Four kits! And twins! The only way it would have been luckier is if she had two sets of twins."

Morningbriar glared down at her in the snow, and Eclipsewing flicked snow from her ear with her best grin. "They will bring glory to their Crowns."

"You don't have to be so boring," Eclipsewing huffed. As Morningbriar turned away, the dark she-cat tossed snow at her, and the tortoiseshell she-cat jumped, tail fluffed, startled. Eclipsewing laughed and tackled the Fate into the snow, and she was pretty certain Morningbriar smiled as they both crashed into the snowbank.

Frogdrizzle - SparkClan

---

The late afternoon glare of the autumn sun, low over the dunes, gave the SparkClan camp a warm, amber glow. Banded stone rimned with gold and accented with harsh shadows made the landscape pop into relief as Frogdrizzle crossed into SparkClan's camp proper where the dunes gave way to harsher stone underpaw, textured by grits of blustering sand. Eddies of wind howled a familiar song, picking up whirlwinds of debris in the narrow corridors between pillars of sandstone, which the SparkClan warrior deftly avoided as he picked his path inwards, towards the Moon Spire, which even this far out, was visible to him: haloed in sunlight, shining like a beacon of the sun in spite of its name.

His nose was deaf to the smells of SparkClan's warriors, overwhelmed with the pungent fragrence of lavender he was carrying. The largest parcel he carried in his jaws, but more of the herb was stuffed into the brace of hollowed gourds that was secured over his back by braids of dried grass. The knots that supported the gourds were a somewhat recent invention to the Circle, so Frogdrizzle was told, created by a CinderClan tom named Shadeweaver in 42 to help transport the Cure during the Red Sickness.

He was glad the extra containers meant they could transport everything he needed in just one trip without needing to recruit half SparkClan's apprentices to help carry them.

Redflower, Obsidianfur, and Midnightpaw had accompanied him to WhistleClan's southern fields, where the lavender fields were perfect for harvesting, and each had returned heavily laden with the aromantic flowers. Some cats poked their heads from dens as the patrol passed through camp, lured by the enticing scent. "Nice haul," Cobrastone commented brightly as she led a border patrol past them.

Praeriescorch and Vineripple were sitting at the entrance to the Moon Temple, talking softly between them. Frogdrizzle knew the two Healers didn't get along well, but they appeared to be on civil terms --at least for today-- as neither of their tails lashed in silent disapproval of the others' methods; they did, however, stop talking the moment the lavender gathering patrol came into earshot.

Vineripple pushed himself to his paws, not without effort as his stomach swung beneath him, threatening to tip the large tomcat off balance. He moved his bulk with practiced ease, his eyes bright as he flicked his ears in greeting. "That's enough lavender to cure all the sore throats in the Circle for the entire year!" Vineripple laughed, a sound as deep and easy as his voice. "Good for a day's work."

Praieriescorch was more reserved, the Healer Prime gracefully rising to meet Redflower. She dipped her muzzle into one of the gourds, tasting the scent and the leaves. "They could have spent another few days on the stalk, but it will do." She pushed her nose under the grass twists on Redflower's back, allowing the ginger dappled tom to crouch and then crawl out of the harness, leaving the six gourds on the ground. He stretched his spine, finally freed from his burden.

Frogdrizzle stepped up and allowed the Healer Prime to help him remove the lavender-filled vessels from his own back, as Obsidianfur was removing Midnightpaw's. It was easier to unpack the herbs outside the Moon Temple, since the passageways leading to the herb storage were narrow. After his bundles were set neatly against the side of the Spire, Frogdrizzle excused himself from the patrol. "I have a few tasks from the queens that should be finished before sun-down," he said to Vineripple, who waved his tail.

"Yeah, we have it from here. Thanks as always, Frogdrizzle."

"Anytime," the tortoiseshell tomcat said, and meant it. He loved volunteering to help gather herbs, and Praieriescorch often went to him first if the Healers had a task that needed doing on short notice. Obsidianfur was also a familiar face on herb gathering patrols, often with Midnightpaw at her side. Frogdrizzle appreciated the pair's company, finding Obsidianfur's steadiness and Midnightpaw's contrasting exuberance to add up into an efficient, upbeat day's labor. It was through Midnightpaw's charm that they had enlisted a WhistleClan patrol to aid them for a few hours early in the day, which meant they were able to fill their gourds much more quickly than Redflower had anticipated.

That left Frogdrizzle time to visit the queens and perhaps help Coronagleam shore up the nursery's roof before nightfall, since Terrorflash has been complaining about too much moonlight keeping Viperkit awake. The nursery was situated on the other side of the Spire, utilizing the Spire's bulk as a windbreak from the desert storms. Frogdrizzle kept close to the warm stone, brushing his fur against the sand-smoothed pillar until the mud and clay nursery came into sight.

SparkClan's nursery was one of the largest non-StarClan created structures in the Circle and for that reason, Frogdrizzle was proud that he was one of the few cats trusted to make major repairs to it.

"Spiderkit!" Tortoiseleg's shout was the only warning Frogdrizzle got before he was slammed in the chest by a whirlwind of paws.

Thistlescar & Crescentfox - SparkClan

---

"He's more annoying than sand in my pelt," Thistlescar growled.

"Tell him to leave, then."

"You don't think I've already tried that?"

"And he wasn't the least bit intimidated by you?" Terrorflash scoffed, disbelieving. Thistlescar let his lip curl in a snarl as an answer, turning slightly away from his mate. "Tch. Hafta respect him that." Thistlescar grunted.

The two were having a muted conversation outside of the nursery, glancing up every so often to keep an eye on their kits, though they were being deftly wrangled by Tortoiseleg with help from Cottonwing and Shellshadow, giving Thistlescar and Terrorflash time to catch up without the kits underpaw.

Thistlescar's current thorn in his side was the StoneClan tom Crescentfox. Even when he didn't say a word, Crescentfox was the loudest thing in Thistlescar's ear, more deafening than the deep desert sandstorms that swept through the Oasis. The blue tom had been in SparkClan for a few moons --to visit his cousin Violetwave, apparently, but who would have guessed one of their best Gladiators could have such useless kin-- before suddenly taking an interest in Thistlescar a few weeks ago.

Thistlescar, who made it a point to exude as much don't-talk-to-me energy as he could, an energy nearly as dense as a sun.

Since he didn't know sign, he had to go to Brookshine (who was a much more useful fighter, in Thistlescar's opinion), who informed him that, somehow, Crescentfox had heard rumors of his encounters with the cat-Beast and wanted to know everything about it.

Thistlescar refused to tell him anything and Crescentfox hadn't stopped following him since. Even out on the desert, where he shouldn't be as a scout, leaving Thistlescar to take great risks defending the stubborn tomcat when he should be out on the frontlines with the other Sandshifters.

That wasn't brave, it was stupid.

He didn't want Terrorflash worrying over him when she had enough stress caring for their kits, so he left those parts out, though he doubted the addition would have changed his mate's opinion of Crescentfox; on the contrary, she'd probably laud his courage for going to such lengths. Crescentfox had even followed him to the Main Camp, though he had the tact to give Thistlescar space while he visited with his family.

His family.

His fur prickled and Terrorflash pressed up against him, letting him lean into her comfortable bulk. They hadn't been so tactile before the kits, but many things were changing between them since the kits were born three moons ago and most of them were welcome additions to their relationship: affirmation, touch, sympathy.

Not that their relationship had been lacking in any way before. There was a certainty in having placed your life in another's paws time and time again and living to the other side of the fight: a trust that has already been tested by sand and fire and come out unscathed --well, mostly unscathed, as Terrorflash turned her head so she could watch Houndkit with her good eye.

They also had understanding, a connection that made conversations pass in a single glance and coordination that felt like they shared a heartbeat. Thistlescar wouldn't have trusted any other cat enough to relax beside them as he did now. Trusted her enough to share his greatest failure, so that she would know why Crescentfox's inquiry irritated him as much as it did.

Rationally, Thistlescar knew Crescentfox had a reason for seeking the cat-Beast: he must; no cat would have traveled into the desert so many times and weathered so many of Thistlescar's best glares if he didn't have a reason for doing so. Crescentfox was stupid, but he wasn't that cloud-brained. But whatever his reason was, Thistlescar knew it wasn't good enough. Nothing would ever be worth seeking the cat-Beast, or worse, finding it.

Thistlescar knew that better than any cat. "He should get the sand out of his ears and listen, for StarClan's sake," Thistlescar grumbled, more meloncholy than irritated now. He rested his head on Terrorflash's shoulder and tried his hardest to ignore Crescentfox's eyes on his back.

---

He smelled like the deep desert: like sun and cactus blossoms, with the smoky, acrid scent of Eclipse Beast ichor that could never be escaped. As Thistlescar leaned closer, she couldn’t help but tip her nose in his direction, longing sharp as claws in her stomach. Terrorflash didn’t have to say anything for Thistlescar to feel the tension in her muscles, and he twined his tail with hers.

---

Crescentfox’s pelt prickled. Mostly from embarrassment --he knew Thistlescar could see him lurking-- but also with fear. Ever since he’d crossed into SparkClan, he’d felt the cat-Beast’s eyes, stalking him just as he was stalking the sandshifter. Crescentfox was more terrified of the cat-Beast in his dreams than Thistlescar, so he continued following the tomcat’s pawsteps in hopes that he would give in.

If only he could communicate with him! But Thistlescar didn’t know sign (even if his own deputy used it! Well, one of SparkClan's deputies) and didn’t care to get an interpreter, besides that time he’d gone to Brookshine when Crescentfox had first tried to get his attention. Though Crescentfox doubted the sandshifter would listen, even if he understood.

BloomClan
Berrypaw

---

It is early April and green shoots are beginning to poke from the dark soil like whiskers, or kitten tails. It won't be long until a rainbow of flowers paint the hillsides and the gardens, bringing both their wonderful aroma, but also plentiful prey. Or at least, so Juniperleap had told him.

This is Berrypaw's first spring; he and his brother Chestnutpaw had been born in the middle of summer and though he doesn't remember much from those first moons, he has blurred memories of the sweltering heat from the few times Tetra allowed the two outdoors. BloomClan's flowery fields had plenty of blossoms throughout the year, however, and he'd spent the second half of his kithood tumbling through chicory and fennel and poppy and pansy as summer faded into autumn.

Winter had been lean and the Clan had been thankful of the two extra pairs of paws once Berrypaw and Chestnutpaw were made apprentices, even if Berrypaw had taken nine suns of hunting patrols before his claws finally landed on a mouse. Berrypaw is much better at hunting now, though he rarely catches as much as Chestnutpaw, one of many failures his brother never lets him forget.

At least today is a border patrol. It's unlikely either of their neighboring Clans will give BloomClan much trouble today --the weather is too pleasant for arguing, with plenty of sun streaming down, warming their pelts-- and so the patrol is relaxed, spread thin, as if they are out on a stroll rather than by duty. Berrypaw doesn't mind this at all, as it gives him time to marvel over the sudden changes of the season.

slowly working on the second part of Cactusclaw's Capture the Camp game~
It's basically capture the flag meets king of the hill: each team tries to defend their stones while stealing enemy bases' stones, and whatever team has the most stones total at the end of the time wins. Defenders can tackle cats trying to infiltrate their lines. If a cat is tackled, they have to retreat all the way back to touch their base before they can go out again. It's a friendly game, usually played between Clan members for fun and to practice dodging opponents; fights are more wrestling and chasing than actual battle moves, since as soon as an attacker's shoulder touches the ground, they're defeated and are forced to retreat to their base.

Capture-the-Camp is most commonly played in the east, where speed and agility are valued highly. It helps that SparkClan and the petals (HeatherClan, CinderClan and WhistleClan) all are allied and have been for generations, so games can be played between borders like this one. It's still not an everyday occurrence, especially between three Clans, but maybe once or twice a moon cats will work together to find time to organize an inter-Clan match.

Dustripple - CliffClan

---

[[ I'm using a random number generator to spit me out cats to write short scenes about~ Which is great because most of these cats don't have personalities or plots yet and it's a great opportunity to tie them to other individuals and give 'em some life!
Also why are all of Kith LocustLeaf so PURE like <3 tbh the cats above and below Dustripple are slightly more interesting (Sunwhisper my mute trans boy and Quickshade, who was born in WhistleClan and trained with the Order) but honestly??? that's why I'm glad the rng picked Dustripple!! She deserves something to make her special too!!!

Poor girl has really bad imposter syndrome: she really believes she's not a good enough healer and that everyone is better than her, even if she's been picked and trained by the current head healer to take his place when he retires. Dustripple just thinks she's not good enough because while she was given a wide assortment of training, each of the other healers in her Kith had specialized in one specific thing, and so she feels like she can't compare to their specific knowledge.
She is also the only healer that is a healer full-time btw. The other members of Kith LocustLeaf ALSO must hunt, though they aren't required to go on border patrols and as such, their fighting skills are often lacking compared to other CliffClan Kiths. So most of them only have time to focus on one aspect of healing instead of having full training in every area like Dustripple  or Siltfang were trained to have. 
Quietshade was also trained as a full healer, but CliffClan is very insular/xenophobic and even if she proved her skill, Siltfang wouldn't trust her; even if he did, because she was trained by outsiders and wasn't born in CliffClan, no CliffClan warrior would stand for her to be given the title of head healer, even if she was capable of it. She'll be a reliable second in command for Dustripple, though. ]]

---

---

Kith LocustLeaf's hold was one of the greatest wonders of the Granite Circle.

Dustripple padded along the smooth quartz, a gemstone vein so perfectly pure that she could see the blurred shadows of other CliffClan warriors mingling in the cavern beneath her paws. Far, far above her head, framed between the two pressing sides of the chasm, was a thin sliver of sky. At sunhigh, the chasm would burst into a rainbow of light, but that was still a few hours off and Dustripple would be expected elsewhere.

Cats of her Kith lounged about, sticking close to the narrow crevasse's walls so that the center walkway was unimpeded. She dipped her head to Sunwhisper, then was obligated to stop next to Lionleaf and exchange a few words with the ancient golden tabby molly. "I really should be going," Dustripple said, trying to excuse herself.

"For what? It's winter and no cats are sick," Lionleaf mewed, her voice rough and deep, more a rumble than anything else. "Or are you still studying like an apprentice?"

Dustripple's ears burned. "Every healer should spend their free hours studying!" she snapped, because anger was easier than embarrassment. "I still have plenty to learn from Siltfang."

Lionleaf laughed. Dustripple fought the urge to flatten herself into the floor to hide from the echoing boom that returned. "Sure, sure. Go on then, if I'm distracting you from your lesson." It took everything Dustripple had to dip her head and leave without snapping anything else at the retired healer.

She didn't stop for anyone else as she walked the length of LocustLeaf's hold to the healing chamber. The large, perfectly circular room was surrounded on the edges by small cubby holes cut from the stone, each big enough for a sick or injured cat to rest, while the center of the chamber was dominated by a hollowed dome of stone with hundreds of nooks to house CliffClan's herb stock. The chamber was created by CliffClan's patron Spirit, Gimli, and has been a sacred place of healing since the dawn of the world.

Even if Dustripple had entered this chamber every day since her sixth moon, spent most of her time within its grey stone walls, the grandeur of the space took her breath away. More so than the quartz crevasse, which still looked rugged enough to be natural despite the crystal floor, the healing chamber could not be mistaken as anything but intentional, designed and implemented, lovingly sculpted from stone to perfectly suit its purpose. A gift. A miracle.

She saw Siltfang's grey fur shifting against the herb storage dome, the senior healer exiting with a large bundle of herbs that he unwrapped upon a low stone bench. The sight of her mentor working helped Dustripple shake the awe and she trotted across the quiet chamber to join him. "Lionleaf got the better of you again," Siltfang mewed, his voice so quiet she had to lean in to catch his words clearly.

Some of her earlier frustration bubbled to the surface and she had to shake her pelt to rid herself of it. "I'm not a bother, am I?"

"Never," Siltfang assured her, smiling as he continued sorting herbs with careful claws, pulling clumps of leaves together in small piles. Dustripple fell in beside him, taking the piles he passed her way and wrapping them together, creating pre-packaged herb bundles for common injuries and illnesses that any healer could quickly grab in an emergency. The pair worked with silent efficiency. The only sound in the chamber was Tinyswoop's occasional coughs from a cubby on the other side of the chamber: the small molly was on the tail end of her whitecough, only a few days left before she'd be deemed non-contagious and allowed to return to Kith ScorpionSting.

It was Siltfang that broke the silence. By now, Dustripple's ears had adjusted to the quiet and his soft voice carried. "How much longer are you going to make me do the herb mixing, Dustripple?" he asked.

She turned to him, puzzled. She was the youngest healer in Kith LocustLeaf (not quite, she corrected herself, Quietshade was four moons younger, but the WhistleClan-born molly had trained with the Order of Honey and had much more experience), why did he trust--no, expect-- her to take his place as head healer? Siltfang was blind and couldn't see her expression, but he had a sixth sense for silences and turned to her, shaking his head. "Dustripple, I've been training you to succeed me for over a year now. You have more knowledge of herbs than any other cat in Kith LocustLeaf."

"I do not!" Dustripple bristled, the refusal quick on her tongue. "Birdpatch has ten times the experience I do--"

"Birdpatch specializes in physical injuries. She doesn't understand herbs like you do."

"Armadilloleap--"

"Is good at identifying herbs, yes," Siltfang allowed, speaking slowly like he was explaining the difference between marigold and goldenrod to a new apprentice. "But their knowledge is better suited to field collection than sorting and mixing."

"Even Quickshade--"

Siltfang bared his teeth, just enough that the words died on her tongue. "Each cat has their strengths and weaknesses, but I cultivated you, Dustripple, to have the set of strengths you'll need to be CliffClan's head healer. I didn't train Quickshade. Sunwhisper is too timid and Cometsplash too temperamental. Birdpatch and Armadilloleap have experience, yes, but neither have the skillset required for the position." The old grey tom stepped forward, his unseeing hazel eyes not quite lining up with her own, giving him an unsettling expression. "You, Dustripple, have all the skills and knowledge necessary."

"But I don't know anything." Her mentor's intensity destroyed her voice, leaving her with only a whisper. "Not compared to you. I'm nothing..." She'd been Siltfang's apprentice for fourteen moons, then worked under him every day for another five after taking her name. In all that time, he'd only once raised his voice (once, when she'd gone to grab fennel from its slot and didn't realize some cat had stored yarrow there on accident until she'd already given a dose to Runningsoul. She'd gotten an earful about double checking herbs after that, a lesson she'd never forgotten since) and he'd never, never tried to intimidate her physically.

Which is why she yelped in surprise when the old healer cuffed her over the ear, even if there was less strength behind the blow than what she'd suffered from kit-play. "StarClan above," Siltfang hissed, sitting and talking up to the ceiling, as if he'd given up on talking to her and was instead pleading their ancestors would listen. "You're the best healer we've got, Dustripple. Other than me of course, and maybe Lionleaf, if she ever decided to do anything but heckle any cat passing through the hold." That last bit was muttered, his tail flicking. "Regardless, I will retire soon and you will be taking my place as head healer."

Dustripple sat, shocked, as her mentor poked her shoulder. "I've been telling you this for moons, Dustripple, seasons really, but obviously it hasn't sunk in." He sighed, then, and looked smaller as he turned back to the herb tray. Had he always been this frail? Hesitantly she slipped into the space beside him. Unlike before their conversation, her place at his side didn't feel natural, but jagged, like scales rubbed the wrong way, and Siltfang's clumps of herbs piled up faster than her shaking paws could bundle them.