#Russetfrond
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Month 14 - Newleaf
“Hey, Bee Face?”
Russetfrond had been starting to drift as he watched Mystique train with the apprentices but her voice pulled him back into focus.
“Yes?” he frowned out of habit despite the fact that he and the kittypet had been getting along a lot better lately. They were honestly getting along a little too well for his liking, although the guilt he felt over his first major indiscretion as a warrior wasn’t enough to stop him from continuing to be indiscreet. It had become an excitingly ill advised routine to sneak off with her every couple days for a bit of private fun. She’d promised to keep it a secret even if she didn’t seem to understand why and he had been grateful.
He realized he was drifting again when she said, “Hello? You there?”
“What?” he blinked and Floodpaw and Barleypaw chuckled softly to themselves.
“I said,” Mystique frowned, looking green in the face, “I think I’m done for the day. I don’t feel so good.”
Russetfrond nodded. “Alright, then we’ll break.”
“Aw, come on,” Floodpaw groaned, “We barely did anything!”
“She’s not feeling well,” Sparrowpaw chided him, “It’s not like we can’t train without her.” Russetfrond suppressed a smile of pride.
“Yeah, come on,” Barleypaw said, “Why don’t we take turns doing two on one fights if you really want a challenge?”
“Mm, alright,” Floodpaw relented. Russetfrong gave a grunt to Mystique that meant ‘let’s go’ and she nodded, falling into step beside him. They left the sandy training ground and started back towards camp as the sound of fighting resumed behind them.
“Ugh,” Mystique moaned, “I feel like I’m gonna puke.”
“Please don’t,” Russetfrond grumbled. Still, he glanced sideways at her in concern. “Did you eat anything strange lately? Any rabbits?”
“What?” Mystique scrunched her nose at him. “No, why?”
“Sometimes they catch a sickness that can kill the cats that eat them,” he said, “but if you didn’t have a rabbit it's fine, then.”
“Wait, why do you eat them if they could kill you!?” cried Mystique.
“Because we need to eat?” he rolled his eyes. “You can usually tell if they’re sick before you catch them. It doesn’t happen often.”
“If you say so…” said Mystique. She took several slow, deep breaths through her nose as they walked and Russetfrond realized she must really feel sick.
“We’ll have one of the healers look at you when we get back to camp,” he said. “They’ll give you something for your stomach.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding strained. “You guys don’t have any pumpkin treats do you?”
“No, we do not have pumpkin treats,” he growled, “It’s the middle of spring!”
“Why should that matter?” asked Mystique. “The Folk have them all year round.” She dropped her gaze and mumbled, “they always make my tummy feel better…”
“Tummy? Really? You are such a child.”
“No, I’m not,” she said defensively, then flirtatiously, “you would know.” He blushed and lashed his tail, glancing around to make sure no one had heard.
“Shut up,” he hissed, fur prickling with embarrassment.
She snickered impishly. “It’s fine, Russie, there’s nobody around!” That only made him more embarrassed.
“You don’t know that for sure,” he snapped. “We’re almost to camp, just-!” He stopped and took a moment to flatten his hackles and lower his voice. “Just be quiet please?”
“Okay, okay,” she relented with a bit of a laugh. “You’re so touchy, Bee Face.”
He grunted and said nothing else.
They slipped down into the camp. Goldenstar and Scorchplume were sharing tongues by the Stoneperch, Fogkit and Slatekit were picking out prey for their meal, Pantherhaze was sunning on top of the warriors’ den. It was quiet and lovely. Russetfrond nodded to Goldenstar as he passed and she nodded in kind, then turned to listen as Scorch whispered in her ear. She smiled and twined her tail with Scorchplume’s and Russetfrond frowned. He still didn’t like that Goldenstar had fallen for such a scheming fox. Still, it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it. When Goldenstar got an idea in her head there was no talking her down.
He and Mystique entered the healers’ den. Aldertail and Oddstripe were talking near the herb stores and when Aldertail noticed them she squeaked and dropped into a frightened ball. Oddstripe sat up straight, his big ears grazing the roof of the den, and smiled awkwardly.
“Russetfrond! Mystique! Oh, what brings you in today?”
“Mystique’s stomach is sick,” Russetfrond said flatly.
“Oh, alright then, why don't you settle into one of those nests and I’ll come help you in a second,” said Oddstripe. He turned back to Aldertail and whispered to her a bit. She nodded mutely and then quickly slank out of the den, hugging the wall farthest from Mystique. The kittypet tried to shoot her an apologetic grin but she wasn’t looking. Mystique sighed.
“I wish she wasn’t so scared of me,” she said as the warrior’s tail tip disappeared.
“She’s been through a lot,” Oddstripe said, lips pursed tight. “We’re working on it. Anyways!” He stepped up to her and leaned in to sniff her breath. “Tell me about your symptoms.” Russetfrond settled into a lean against the wall, watching impassively.
“Uh… I dunno,” Mystique shrugged. “I’ve been queasy since breakfast. It got worse just a little while ago.”
“Any gut pain?” Oddstripe asked, “Dizziness? Fever? Issues making dirt?”
“No,” Mystique looked away uncomfortably, “none of that.”
“Hmm…” Oddstripe frowned in thought. “It couldn’t be… would you mind letting me look at your belly?”
Mystique glanced back at him, tried to hide a grimace, and then said, “Sure.” She settled onto her side and lifted her arm to give him better access. He sniffed around, used his paws to push some of her fur out of the way, and then laughed to himself.
“If I had a mouse for every time this has happened,” he grinned, sitting back.
“Every time what has happened?” Russetfrond growled.
“I’ve discovered a sudden bout of nausea was morning sickness!” Oddstripe said brightly. “Congratulations, Mystique, you’re going to have kittens!”
“What?” Mystique and Russetfrond said at the same time.
“You’re pregnant!” Oddstripe reiterated pleasantly. “Nausea is a totally normal symptom of the early stages of pregnancy. I’d say you’re probably a week or two into it based on how you’re pinking up.”
“That’s impossible,” Russetfrond was on his feet again. “She’s a kittypet!”
“Not all of the Exalted are altered,” Mystique twitched her ear in annoyance.
“Why-!” Russetfrond nearly shouted but caught himself. Gritting his teeth, he said in a more discreet tone, “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“‘Cause it’s not a big deal!” Mystique rolled her eyes.
“Not a big deal?!” His jaw was starting to ache with how hard he was clenching his jaw. “Mystique, did you get your brain replaced with bees? Of course it’s a big deal! I didn’t think that-” He stopped himself again when he remembered that Oddstripe was still right there. The healer was staring at him with wide-blown eyes and a mouth pursed into a tiny, scandalized line.
Russetfrond swallowed. “Uh, Oddstripe, look-”
“Oh, don’t worry!” Oddstripe quickly said, waving his paws in front of himself. “I’m not judging you or anything! I just feel like maybe I shouldn’t be here, I can give you guys some privacy-!”
“No!” Russetfrond blurted. “I mean… Thank you, but you can’t tell anyone.”
Mystique groaned loudly. “Ugh! This again!”
“It’s important!” he said to both of them.
“Of course, Russetfrond,” said Oddstripe, “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to, but…” He glanced over his shoulder, “It’s not going to stay a secret for too much longer. I mean, Sagetooth is going to do the math and know it had to have been someone in the Clan, y’know?”
Russetfrond shut his eyes tightly. This was a nightmare. “Right. Of course.” He started kneading the ground in an attempt to calm himself. “Just… I’ll handle it, just don’t say anything before I do, alright?”
“Of course,” Oddstripe said again. “I’ll let you two talk.” He turned and stepped out of the den with a swish of his tail. Russetfrond sighed and started to pace.
“This is bad,” he said.
“No, it’s not,” Mystique said. “Look, I’ll just go back to my Folk and they’ll take care of it.”
“What do you mean, take care of it?” he glared at her.
“If you’re upset that there will be kits around,” she said as if it were common sense, “I’ll just go to my Folk and, once they’re weaned, the Folk will take them and place them with Folk of their own! It’s fine!”
“What? No!” Russetfrond whirled on her. “Absolutely not!”
“Why not?” protested Mystique, “I’ve done it before.”
“I don’t care,” said Russetfrond. “You’re just going to abandon the kits?”
“It’s not abandonment, the Folk find them homes!” Mystique was getting angry now, her claws sinking into the moss of the nest she was in. “If you don’t want kits then why do you care?!”
“It’s not that I don’t want kits,” he said, trying very hard not to shout, “it’s that I don’t want anyone to know that we’ve been messing around!”
“Why not?” she cried again. “Literally, who cares?”
“I do!” he snapped, tail lashing. “You’re a prisoner of war! I’m not supposed to- to- fraternize with you!”
Mystique laughed mean-spiritedly. “Oh, okay. That never stopped you from letting me pin you down and-”
“Stars Blood!” he hissed, blushing profusely. “Will you shut up for once in your life? This is serious! I’m the deputy! My- my reputation is on the line!”
“No one will care,” Mystique rolled her eyes. “Even Odd-face said she was fine with it-”
“He,” Russetfrond stressed.
“Ugh, whatever!” Mystique tore a line through the edge of the nest. “My point is, who’s gonna be mad? It’s fine! Stop stressing out!”
“You don’t get it,” he shook his head.
“Okay, then explain it to me, moron,” said Mystique, her voice catching in the back of her throat in irritation.
Russetfrond snarled, tearing himself away from her steely gaze to start pacing again. “Fine,” he said. “In the Warrior Code it says that our Clan needs to come first. That means we aren’t supposed to form relationships that could compromise our loyalties, with members of the other Clans or rogues or kittypets.” He shot her a stern look. She rolled her eyes. “So when cats find out that we’ve been together, my loyalties will be called into question. I could lose my position as Deputy.”
“Will you though?” Mystique frowned, “Cause Goldenstar is all over Scorch and that doesn’t seem to be an issue.”
“Scorchplume became a warrior of RisingClan,” Russetfrond said, still pacing. “So if you joined the Clan then maybe it would be fine.”
“Nah, I don’t think so,” Mystique shook her head. “I still wanna go back to my Folk so they can handle all this stuff.”
“First off,” Russetfrond growled, “We’ve already told you why you can’t go home. You would be a liability and that’s not even accounting for what Razor will do when he knows you betrayed him.” Mystique’s ears pressed back against her head briefly. “Secondly, you’re not giving our kits away to become kittypets.”
“I don’t want them!” Mystique protested. “I’m not in any rush to be a mother.”
“So you’re just going to let them snatch your kits away from you?”
“It’s not like that,” she laid her head on her paws, lips skewed to the side petulantly. “I’ve done it before and it was totally harmless.”
“You’ve done it before?” he asked, paling. Did cats in the city just not raise their own children? He was horrified.
“Yeah,” she shrugged like it was no big deal. “I wasn’t even a year old, fooled around a bit too much, got knocked up. The Folk fed me twice as much and gave me extra attention and helped me through the birth. Then different Folk came to visit and play with the kittens and eventually they all went home with a new family.”
“What happened after that?”
“I dunno, I never saw them again,” she shrugged. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“Would you stop saying that?” he hissed, dropping his chest to the ground in a frustrated arch of his back. “It is a big deal! If you don’t want the kits, then that’s fine,” he spat the word, clearly not convinced that it was, “but they’re my kits too. I want to be there for them.”
Mystique groaned. “Ugh. You’re not gonna give me a choice are you… If I try and leave you’ll just drag me back to that stuffy old den.”
“Yes,” he said, glaring at her. She sighed and spread out over the ground like a kitten throwing a tantrum. It was moments like these where Russetfrond remembered how much he hated her. If only he had been able to remember the whole time, this wouldn’t have happened.
“Then I guess we’ll do things your way,” she said eventually.
“Good,” he said. “And we’re done messing around.”
“Oh, come on!”
“I’m serious,” he said firmly. “I should have never been so weak in the first place. This is StarClan’s sign that I need to get my act together.”
“No it’s not,” said Mystique, “it’s what happens when cats have sex together. Not everything is some magical sign.”
Russetfrond lashed his tail one last time and said, “Just keep your mouth shut about our activities together. I’m going to handle this.”
“Whatever,” she groaned to the ceiling. “I don’t caaaaare.”
He shook his head and stalked out of the den. Oddstripe was sitting a short distance away and looked up as he did, offering a hopeful smile.
“So?” he asked.
“I’m going to talk to Goldenstar about it,” said Russetfrond. “Just keep her and the kits healthy, alright?” He made sure to lower his voice just in case.
“I will,” said Oddstripe dutifully.
“Thank you,” Russetfrond sighed. At least he could take solace in that. His head was swimming. He was going to be a father. A single father, at that. He didn’t feel ready. He felt a thousand different dreams and plans shattering away like ice under his paws. He had dreamed of meeting someone strong but gentle, someone devoted just like he was, and courting them like a proper warrior until they were certain this was what they wanted. He had dreamed of raising kits with someone his mother could be proud of. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about what she must think of him now.
“It’s gonna be alright,” Oddstripe said, brushing his tail over Russetfrond’s paws reassuringly. “I’m sure everyone will understand.”
“It’s over anyway,” Russetfrond said, feeling sick himself. “I never should have been so foolish but I’m certainly not going to let it happen again.”
“I know what you mean,” Oddstripe said, a pained smile on his face. “But have faith. Kits are a gift, even if they come from less than perfect circumstances. I’m sure they will be a blessing to you when they arrive.”
“I know…” he sighed again. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Oh, of course, Russetfrond,” smiled Oddstripe. “Don’t let me keep you.”
Gratefully, Russetfrond stepped away to go find Goldenstar. This wasn’t going to be pleasant. It was time he started acting responsibly, though.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#Russetfrond#Mystique#Aldertail#Oddstripe#TW Vomit#Kit Announcement#clangenrising
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Month 13 - Newleaf
Russetfrond scarfed down his morning meal and went over his responsibilities in his head. Sparrowpaw and the others were due for an assessment in their hunting and survival skills that he needed to design with Goldenstar and Yarrowshade. Patrols were mostly in order except for Mystique. He still didn’t like putting her into his schedule but Goldenstar had been clear that she needed daily exercise. At least she had agreed not to send the kittypet on any kind of Border Patrol, at his request.
It took him a while to balance out the patrols to accommodate her, shuffling duties around here and there, but eventually he had a solid plan. He stood, stretched, and sighed. Deciding to get the most unpleasant task out of the way first, he turned towards the elders’ den where a sleepy Ospreymask was sitting watch. If he hurried and took Mystique out now, they would hopefully get back before the dawn patrol returned.
He stepped up to the den and flicked his ear in Ospreymask’s direction, saying, “I’ll take over.”
“Thanks,” she yawned and slinked off towards the warriors’ den.
Mystique stirred inside the den. Curled up in the back corner, she lifted her head and pursed her lips. She seemed to have been awake for some time although she still seemed tired and hollow eyed. Her thick fur was starting to tangle as her winter shed came out poorly. He wondered absently if she even knew how to properly groom herself or if she let her twolegs do everything for her.
“Hey,” she said, “What’s up?”
“We’re going out,” he said. “I want to get your exercise out of the way before it gets too late.”
“Oh, alright,” she stood, ears brushing the top of the den, and slipped up beside him with a soft jingle. He stepped out of the way and let her arch her back and stretch her legs.
“I figured we’d go to the river and you could swim for a bit or something.”
“Wait, really?” she brightened.
“Yes,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Just as long as you agree to come back when I say we’re done.”
“Yeah, of course,” she nodded.
“Good.” He set off out of camp, confident that she would follow. The morning was still young. The sun had just started to banish the chill of night from the air and birds were singing to each other from the distant trees. He and Mystique walked in silence for a while, simply basking in the beauty of morning.
Mystique eventually ruined it by speaking. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh?” He raised his brows skeptically. Hopefully it wasn’t another rendition of her ‘why does everyone hate me’ act. He’d heard from Branchbark all about her little incident during the Gathering and he wasn’t happy about it.
“Yeah, um,” Mystique said, looking at the ground, “I’ve been thinking - About my brother and everything - and… I want to try and help you guys.”
“Pardon?” he nearly laughed.
“I want to help,” she said, a little bolder. “Scorch is right, I’ve been way too passive. I may not fully understand what’s going on yet, but clearly you cats have a lot to lose and I want to help you. I was thinking maybe I could teach some combat drills or something? Y’know, help you hold your own.”
This time Russetfrond really did laugh. “Yeah, right! We don’t need fighting tips from a kittypet.” The idea was completely absurd! Insulting, even!
Mystique frowned. “I’ll have you know, I’m better than most cats back in the city!”
“That’s not saying much,” he shook his head at the comedy of the situation.
“I’m almost as good as Razor!” she insisted. “I bet I’m better than you! Hell, I know I am.” His shoulders tightened in offense.
“Is that so?” he growled, puffing up his fur a bit.
“Yeah,” she smirked and leaned down a bit to be more evenly on his level. “Try me and see.”
“Fine,” he said, slowing to a stop. “Show me what you’ve got and I’ll see if your offer is worth anything.” They had stopped in the dip between two hills where pooling snowmelt had caused the grass to grow in thick and towering. It swayed above their heads gently, blocking out the rest of the world and nearly obscuring them from each other in its density.
Russetfrond took a defensive stance. Mystique wiggled down into a crouch, tail tip twitching with eagerness. Russetfrond could already tell that she wasn’t taking this seriously - her smile was too bright, her gaze too scattered. This would be over quickly.
She moved in, tested his guard with a few swipes, and he danced easily to the side. He swiped at her ears with claws sheathed. Mystique ducked under the blow with surprising grace for her size and slipped into the opening he had given her. Her paws wrapped around his torso and her weight carried him off his feet and into the grass.
They rolled for a beat, Russetfrond hissing and Mystique purring, and landed with him on his back looking up at her. He kicked out with his hind legs and she took the blow without a flinch, then whacked him sharply on the head causing his vision to swim. She snapped at one of his paws as he tried to swat her, twisted so the other swipe struck the back of her head, and rolled onto her side to avoid another strike of his hind paws.
He rolled with her, onto his paws, and swatted her face twice, confident that, had this been a real fight, she would have been struggling to see through the blood. Mystiquer let out a mrrp of enjoyment and lunged. Her forepaws hooked around his neck and pulled his face into her chest before he knew what was happening. He struggled in the suffocating volume of her fur, unable to stop her as she rolled and flipped him over her body onto his side. Her hindpaws slammed into him, rabbit kicking over and over into his side. He hissed furiously and tucked his head to slam it up into her chin. She reeled, let him go, and he tumbled away. If this were real, he would be bleeding profusely from his flank, but for now he was simply panting heavily, struggling for breath.
“That was-” he didn’t get to finish. Somehow she was on her paws again and barreling into him. His surprise let her take him to the ground again and she quickly pressed his face into the dirt with one paw. Tail bristling, he tried to rise but suddenly her teeth were in his scruff, causing his legs to seize instinctively. His cheeks flushed hotly at the predicament.
“Alright!” he hissed quickly, “You win!” He needed her to let him go.
“Told you I was better than you.” He could feel the shape of her grin against his fur. He forced his body to move and tried to wiggle out from under her but she shifted to put a hindpaw on his haunches, pressing him flat into the ground. His stomach fluttered, only serving to make him even more embarrassed.
“You proved your point,” he growled, “let me up.” They were both breathing hard, her fur brushing his back every time she inhaled.
“Say please,” she ordered smugly between breaths.
“No,” he growled, his skin buzzing uncomfortably with some kind of energy. He felt dizzy.
“Aww, come on,” she said, her teeth thankfully letting go of his scruff. He summoned his strength and rolled onto his back, paws ready to swipe at her if she tried anything else, but she just smiled at him and tilted her head, one paw raised as if they were playing a game. He found it hard to swallow.
“You put up a pretty good fight,” she panted, flopping down next to him.
“You too,” Russetfrond admitted begrudgingly, letting his arms go slack. The grass swayed above and around them, a world of lush green with a small glimpse of cloudless, blue sky. It muted the birdsong and the sound of the wind, leaving them alone with only their slowing breaths to listen to.
“I won!” she purred, “I’d say I was more than pretty good.” He didn’t want to say it but he was inclined to agree. Neither of them spoke again until they had mostly regained control of their breathing. Russetfrond still felt dizzy though, dizzy and warm and hungry for something he couldn’t explain.
“Wanna go again?” she whispered, like it was a secret. He knew he needed to say no. He knew that he was standing on the precipice of something very big and very exciting and very dangerous and that if he didn’t leave now he wouldn’t be able to fight the hold it had on him.
“Alright,” he breathed, the edge of a smile daring to pull at his lips. He swallowed hard again. Mystique grinned wider than he’d ever seen, looking like she was hungry too.
“Hell yeah,” she said. “Maybe you can try and pin me this time.” Russetfrond thought he would like that very much.
“Don’t go easy on me,” he said, getting back to his paws.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she chuckled, swishing her silky tail around herself as she huddled into an eager crouch.
“Good,” said Russetfrond. He jumped.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#clangenrising#Mystique#Russetfrond#Newleaf
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Month 8 - Leaffall
Russetfrond carried a pair of birds in his jaws as he strolled beside Goldenstar who led the way back to camp, carrying her own catch, a particularly fat mouse she had snagged last minute. He looked idly over swaying grass, pressing his ears back as they walked against the chilly Leaffall breeze, and let her chatter. It was a familiar old feeling; her talking as if silence was her enemy, him responding here and there. It was nice.
As they got closer to camp, talk turned to Oddstripe’s litter.
“I’m still trying to figure out exactly who I want to mentor the kits,” she said. “It’ll be my first apprentice ceremony as leader and I wanna make sure I do it right.”
“Mm,” he grunted in response.
“Yarrowshade said you knew exactly who you would pick,” she continued, meeting his gaze. “Is that true?”
“Mhm,” he tried for, hoping she’d leave it at that but knowing she wouldn’t.
“So, what are they?” she asked predictably. “If you care about the choices I make, you gotta say something, man.”
He sighed, disliking that he had to make his mouth form actual words again, and then grunted to clear his throat. “Floodkit I’d give to Nightfrost, Sparrow to Pantherhaze, and Barley to Ospreymask.”
“Huh,” she mused and he twitched an ear indignantly.
“What d’you mean, ‘huh’? You don’t like my placements?”
“No, no, I just wouldn’t have picked them myself,” she shrugged. “I feel like Ospreymask is too much of a kitsitter to them to be a good mentor. Y’know, same reason we don’t usually let cats mentor their own kits.”
“Fair point,” he conceded.
Her next question surprised him. “Would you like to mentor any of them?”
“Me?” he blinked, tail unfurling upward.
“Yeah, you, fish face,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re a good warrior and you deserve another apprentice.”
“I know that,” he said, unable to resist a little jab. “I just figured you’d give them to Yarrowshade and Scorch instead.”
Goldenstar let out a little growl. “Ugh, you’re still on about that? Just because you disagree with some of my choices doesn’t mean I’m just blindly doing whatever they tell me to, y’know.”
“So who are you planning to give them to?” he asked, sidestepping her comment.
She sighed in frustration and said, “I don’t know. But you’re at the top of the list. Now do you wanna mentor one of them or not?”
“I wouldn’t say no,” he shrugged.
“Any preference?”
He thought it over for a second. “Floodkit I guess. He’s got a lot of passion and ferocity. I think he’d make a great apprentice.”
“Interesting,” she hummed. “I’ll take it under advisement. Let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will,” he agreed.
Shortly after, they arrived back at camp and she left him to head into the Healers’ den. In the dusty center of camp, the kits were playing. Floodkit and Sparrowkit wrestled and chased each other, shouting about borders and territories and such. Barleykit sat at the edge of camp, watching her brothers with a dejected look on her face. Russetfrond decided to see what was troubling her and took one of the birds he had caught, a bright red cardinal, over to where she was sitting.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked.
Barleykit squeaked in surprise and nearly jumped to her feet. Recognizing him, she settled down again and said, “um, sure.”
He sat down next to her and said, “You seem upset. What’s wrong?”
“Oh,” she blushed, massive ears folding back. “I’m just… thinking.”
“About what?” he pressed gently as he started to pull the flight feathers from the cardinal. While it was normal to eat a bird feathers and all, he didn’t feel inclined to deal with the larger ones today and there was a methodical kind of pleasure in plucking them. Barleykit shuffled anxiously and looked askance.
“I’m worried about becoming an apprentice,” she admitted softly. “I don’t think I’ll be very good at it.”
“No one is good at it at first,” he shrugged, “that's why you have a mentor to teach you.”
“I guess,” she shuffled again. “I just… I don’t like rough games. I don’t wanna fight anybody. But I don’t care about herbs either. I’m worried I’m just gonna be a scaredy mouse my whole life.” Russetfroned hummed thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure what to tell her.
“Well,” he said, “being brave isn’t about not being scared. It’s about doing the scary thing anyway.” Barleykit sighed and looked down. It seemed that hadn’t helped to calm her worries at all. He looked down at his paws as he tried to gather his thoughts, and he spotted the scattered feathers. Something about their bright coloring sparked an idea in his mind.
“Here,” he said, plucking one of them from the ground. “See these feathers?”
“Yeah,” she said cautiously, eyeing them.
“These feathers are magic,” he said.
“Really?” Her eyes widened and she looked them over.
“Yep,” he nodded. “If you wear them on your fur they make you very brave.”
“Really?” she asked again. “I want some!”
“I dunno,” he feigned reluctance, “I was going to save them for myself…”
“Please?” she begged, “Please, please, please? I wanna be brave just like Floodkit!”
“Well… Okay,” he chuckled. “Here, hold still and I’ll put them in.” Barleykit sat up straight and lifted her head eagerly, posing in what he imagined she thought was a very brave position. He leaned forward and started to place feathers into her fur around her neck and shoulders.
After he’d placed as many as he cared to, he sat back and said, “There.”
She looked down at them, craning her neck to try and examine his handiwork, and said, “Wow. Do they look alright?”
“Oh, yeah,” he nodded. “You wear them well.” He leaned down to start eating but she leaped forward and put her paws on his food causing him to frown.
Before he could complain, she declared, “I wanna do you now!”
He closed his mouth, biting back on whatever irritation had risen in him. Taking a deep breath he said, “Okay, but put them in my tail okay?” Maybe that way, he reasoned, he could ignore it for the most part and finish his meal.
“Okay,” she said, plucking several feathers and then passing his food back to him. Sighing, he twitched his tail out in front of her and hungrily began to devour the cardinal. Barleykit hummed to herself as she tucked the feathers into his fur and smoothed the fur back down with the utmost care. After she finished, she sat back and looked at him eagerly.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
He gave his tail a roll and glanced over it. “It’s perfect,” he said, “Thank you.”
“We can wear them together,” she nodded, “and we’ll both be brave.” “Sure,” he chuckled, and went back to eating. She was a sweet girl, he thought, but already his energy for kitsitting was nearly gone. Luckily, she settled down again, laying her head against his tail, and they quietly watched her brothers tumbling across the grass together. She probably isn’t the right apprentice for me, he thought, but I hope Goldenstar picks a good mentor for her.
UPDATES:
- Russetfrond and Barleykit start wearing cardinal feathers on their pelts.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warrior cats oc#warriors#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#Russetfrond#Barleykit#Goldenstar#clangenrising
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Month 14 - Newleaf
“Thank you all for coming,” Goldenstar said to the assembled warriors of RisingClan. “This should be quick.” Everyone had gathered at sunhigh to talk while the kits were sleeping. Even Sagetooth and Oddstripe were in attendance. The only cat missing was Songdust, whose absence hung heavy over the group like an ill omen.
Yarrowshade shrugged and said, “We’re happy to be here, Goldie.” She smiled and he grinned in return. It was good to see her smiling again. Beside her, Scorchplume’s tail was twined with hers, a development he had noticed a few days ago but said nothing about yet. Neither of them seemed to want to bring it up either so he left it alone.
“We all want to see the end of this war,” said Pantherhaze and the rest of the group concurred. Yarrowshade in particular couldn’t wait to pay the rogues back for all the grief they had caused him. His claws ached to sink into their fur. His skin itched for the satisfaction of a well-deserved wound.
“I’ve been discussing strategies with Scorchplume,” Goldenstar said, “and she thinks there’s a way we could manage to take Razor out of play, which would be huge.”
“Yes,” Scorchplume said, less excited than Goldenstar was. “It’s risky though.”
“Risky is what we do,” Floodpaw purred proudly. Oddstripe clucked with worry.
“Right,” said Goldenstar. “A risk with big pay off is way better than continuing to sit and wait. Go ahead.”
“Alright,” sighed Scorch. Yarrowshade watched her shift uncomfortably and added another smack to the list of punishments he owed Razor. “When Smokyrose came to the city, they were discussing a peace agreement. Until Ghost arrived, it looked like he was going to arrange a one on one meeting with Goldenstar that he would use to ambush her and take out your leader.”
A few cats shifted bitterly at the mention of Smokyrose.
“The plan is to arrange that meeting,” Goldenstar said with a fiery conviction in her voice, “and then ambush him back.”
“But it’s extremely dangerous,” Scorch cautioned. “Goldenstar will have to be basically alone with Razor for at least a few moments. If there are any mistakes, Goldenstar could die.”
“I could lose a life,” Goldenstar admitted, “but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. As long as the rest of you come in to corner him, we should succeed.” Scorch chewed her lip, tail rippling irritably, and Yarrowshade realized that she still didn’t believe in Goldenstar’s nine lives.
“I think it sounds like a solid course of action,” Sagetooth said. “I’ll consult StarClan but I think we should plan on going through with it.”
“We should ask the other Clans too,” said Pantherhaze. “We only won the last battle because of their help. We could use it again.”
“Yeah, we don’t know how many cats Razor will bring with him,” said Sparrowpaw. “Best to be prepared.”
“I agree,” Goldenstar said, “and I’m sure something this important will get Flightstar and Snowstar to agree to it. Scorchplume believes that Razor thinks I’m the Clans’ only leader, so I’ll also be the one meeting him and taking on all the risk.” Scorch shifted again.
“Just don’t take any unnecessary risks,” Oddstripe said. “I don’t want to have more of you injured than is necessary.” Sagetooth twitched her ear.
“We’ll train in defensive combat strategies and cooperative fighting in preparation,” said Russetfrond, looking more like himself than he had over the last couple days. Yarrowshade had enjoyed how miserable Mystique’s pregnancy had made him at first but by now he was just glad that the deputy had stopped moping. It was unsettling - too unlike him.
“Good idea,” Goldenstar nodded. “Russetfrond and I will come up with a more decisive battle plan and share it with you all during training. Are there any other questions?”
“What are we going to do about Songdust?” Floodpaw asked impatiently. Barleypaw nodded. Sparrowpaw looked at the ground. Pantherhaze and Ospreymask leaned forward for the answer.
Goldenstar shifted. “That’s a little more complicated…”
“I know a cat or two who might be able to help,” Scorch said, “but there’s not much we can do without going into the city which we can’t really do with Razor in power like this.”
“StarClan will protect her if they can,” Sagetooth said. “Defeating Razor is the first step. Then we can think about rescuing Songdust.” No one seemed satisfied with that answer, but Scorch was right. There wasn’t really anything they could do.
After a moment or two of silence, Goldenstar said, “Alright then. Meeting adjourned. Everyone focus on preparing for the battle. May StarClan guide us.”
“May StarClan guide us,” said Sagetooth, Oddstripe, Barleypaw, and Pantherhaze’s staggered voices. The cats began to disperse. Yarrowshade picked himself up and moved to talk with Scorch and Goldenstar.
“Hey, you guys wanna go train or something?” he asked. Goldenstar looked to Scorchplume.
“You two can go,” Scorch said. “I’m not going to go anywhere near Razor.”
“Still, it can’t hurt to get some practice in, right?” Yarrowshade asked. She looked at him and he swore he could hear her thoughts, how irritating she found him, how much she hated him for ‘choosing Nightfrost.’
“Fine,” she said shortly.
“Great,” Goldenstar laughed a little and Scorch shot her a subtle glare. “Or what if we scout out places for the meeting instead? That’s something you could help with.”
“I suppose,” Scorchplume hummed, seeming more inclined to that idea. Yarrowshade couldn’t help but feel like she just liked Goldenstar’s ideas better than his. He swallowed tightly and tried not to look disappointed.
“Sounds good to me,” he said brightly. “Let’s go.”
They set out towards the southern border. The day was warm for the season, bright and sunny with a welcome breeze. Yarrowshade tilted his face to the sun and tried to enjoy the warmth of it.
“How’ve you been, by the way?” asked Goldenstar.
He tilted his head in her direction. “Good, I guess.” Lonely. “I’ve missed hanging out with you two though.”
“Same, honestly,” Goldenstar said, leaning into Scorchplume’s side. “I can’t wait for all this business to be over so things can go back to normal.”
“Normal is extremely relative,” Scorch hummed. “I for one am sick of normal.”
“We’ll just have to make a new normal then,” Yarrowshade tried, offering her a smile. She raised her brows at him but said nothing. He tried not to frown.
“Scorch,” Goldenstar said softly. “He’s trying. Be nice to him.” Yarrowshade blushed at being called out like that. Was he so obvious? Scorch scowled at Goldenstar but there was no malice in her gaze.
“I’ll do what I please,” she huffed.
“I know,” purred Goldenstar, “but you guys used to be good friends right? I don’t see the point in holding onto a grudge when you could just get along again.”
“Look,” Yarrowshade cut in, fur prickling in discomfort, “if it helps; I’m sorry for whatever I did.”
“Whatever you did?” Scorch raised her brows even higher somehow.
“Yes?” he winced. This felt like a trap.
“What was that, exactly?” Scorch asked. Goldenstar was mouthing something but he was terrible at reading lips.
“For…” Yarrowshade hesitated. He had to find the correct answer. “For not choosing you?” There was a moment of silence where Scorch sized him up and he and Goldenstar held their breath.
Then Scorch said, “Apology accepted.” Both Yarrowshade and Goldenstar sighed in relief. Scorch flicked her ear in annoyance.
But after that, things were alright. Yarrowshade brought up a funny story from hunting with Barleypaw the other day and the others laughed. Scorch poked fun at him with an easy smile rather than a cold, defensive one. Goldenstar wouldn’t stop purring. He still felt like he was walking on thin ice, but at least for now Scorch was finding him entertaining. That was all he wanted, really.
Discussion moved on to talk about how Barleypaw and her littermates would be warriors in a moon or two. Goldenstar expressed being nervous about her first real warrior ceremony as leader and Scorch and Yarrowshade told her she had nothing to worry about. From there, they started talking about Slatekit and Fogkit and their upcoming ceremony.
“I still don’t know who should mentor Fogkit,” said Goldenstar as they paused to examine the sightlines on one hill. “I think I have Slatekit settled but Fogkit doesn’t like Ospreymask anymore and I’m not sure who else could mentor her.”
“She’s a pawful, isn’t she?” Yarrowshade chuckled. “Yesterday I caught her ‘crafting curses’ out of claw sheds and bird bones.”
“Crafting curses?” Scorch said skeptically.
“Yeah,” shrugged Yarrowshade. “I don’t know where she got the idea but she said she was trying to curse the rogues to death.” He shook his head. “I’m honestly glad I already have Barleypaw cause I don’t think I would want to try and untangle that whole mess.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing,” Goldenstar said. “I would take her myself but I’ve already got Floodpaw.”
“You can’t just take every apprentice who seems like they’ll be a pawful,” Scorch huffed.
“Is that a challenge?” Goldenstar teased and Scorch rolled her eyes.
“Look, if it’s really such a predicament, just give her to me.”
Yarrowshade and Goldenstar fell into stunned silence.
“What?” Scorch bristled defensively. “Is that so outlandish?”
“No, no,” Goldenstar said quickly, a smile spreading across her face, “I just didn’t expect you to want an apprentice! I mean, it’s a pretty big commitment.”
“Does that mean you’re staying?” Yarrowshade asked excitedly.
Scorch swished her tail back and forth, puffing up like a ginger pigeon. “For now,” she said. “By the time I leave, Floodpaw will be a warrior and then Goldenstar can take over her training.”
Yarrowshade cocked a brow, smirking. “I don’t buy it.”
Goldenstar was grinning like an idiot. “Oh, Scorch!” she purred, butting her head into Scorchplume’s shoulder. “I love you so much!”
“That’s it!” Scorch said, putting both paws on Goldenstar’s face and shoving her away. “I’m actually leaving right now and throwing myself in the river.”
“Wait, no!” wailed Goldenstar through laughter. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to use the forbidden word!” She threw herself at Scorch’s feet and clung to her like a needy kitten. Scorch huffed a laugh through her nose.
“Please, your excellence,” she said, pretending to be scandalized, “you forget yourself.” Goldenstar laughed, chest thrumming with an uncontrollable purr.
Yarrowshade swallowed thickly. Grief, unexpected and overwhelming, flooded his mind as he watched them joke and flirt. Neither of them seemed to notice and he was grateful for it. He carefully turned away and started down the far side of the hill, breathing slowly through his nose to try and stop himself from tearing up.
Get it together, Yarrowshade, he thought to himself. This was such a stupid thing to cry over! He wasn’t going to let them see him like this.
“Look,” Scorch said smugly, “your pathetic displays have scared off Yarrowshade.”
“Ah!” Goldenstar cried, still laughing, “Yarrowshade, wait! I’m sorry!”
He paused and let out one last breath before forcing the frown off of his face. “I think this hill is too exposed,” he said, glancing back at them. “Maybe we should try somewhere with trees?”
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Goldenstar had gotten to her feet and was halfway to him, Scorch trailing behind. Both of them looked so happy it hurt to watch.
“Do you think Orangestar would let us hold the meeting on EarthClan territory?” he asked, looking away. He focused his eyes on the trees up ahead and tried to pretend that he was fine.
“Maybe!” Goldenstar said. “I’ll bring it up at the Gathering.”
“Hmm,” Scorch chewed her lip. “Could we take a look anyway or would that be inappropriate.”
“I’m not sure,” Goldenstar said.
“Probably best to wait for permission,” Yarrowshade said.
“Yeahhhh,” Goldenstar sighed. “Oh well. Why don’t we catch some lunch and head back?”
“Sounds good to me,” said Scorch.
“Yeah,” Yarrowshade turned back to them, smiling again even if it felt a little forced. “I’d love that.”
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#Goldenstar#Yarrowshade#Pantherhaze#Sagetooth#Oddstripe#Scorchplume#Floodpaw#Sparrowpaw#Russetfrond#Newleaf#Clangenrising
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Month 14 - Newleaf
As usual, rumors spread through camp like a wildfire in greenleaf. When Sagetooth got back from tending the garlic patches, she immediately overheard Ospreymask and Branchbark whispering about something scandalous.
“It’s just ironic, isn’t it?” Ospreymask was saying. “Like, he’s always getting on me for being too chummy with Pebblefall or whoever and then he goes and has kits with a rogue.”
“Yeah,” agreed Branchbark, tail twitching. “I honestly don’t think it’s that big a deal, but it’s a little funny that it’s him. Like, I guess now he’ll get a taste of his own medicine.”
“Who will?” snapped Sagetooth. Both warriors flinched, fur brushing up, and turned to look at her like they had been caught eating prey on patrol.
Ospreymask recovered quickly, though. “Russetfrond,” she whispered conspiratorially. “He got Mystique pregnant.”
Sagetooth sighed heavily. “That fool boy. What was he thinking?”
“Who knows,” Branchbark huffed. “Maybe he thinks the rules don’t apply to him now that he’s deputy.” Sagetooth wasn’t listening anymore. She stalked off towards her den, rehearsing the scolding she was going to give Russetfrond when she saw him next.
She couldn’t believe it! She knew that the world was going insane these days - both Stormwhisper and Blazingbrush having broken the code and had kits - but if there had been anyone she had expected to stick to tradition, it would have been Russetfrond. He’d always had more sense than his mother. Honestly, Sagetooth liked the boy. It was that small affection that was feeding her massive disappointment now.
She wasn’t expecting to see him in her den. He was talking with Oddstripe and both of them looked up when she entered. Russetfrond’s ears slid backwards in shame.
“There you are,” she said, scowling at him.
“Sagetooth,” Oddstripe started, surely about to counsel her to go easy on him, but Russetfrond raised his tail to stop the other healer.
“It’s alright, Oddstripe,” he said grimly. “Would you give us a moment?”
Oddstripe hesitated but nodded, lips pursed. “Alright.” Ears back against his skull, he slank out of the den, leaving them alone.
“I can't believe you,” Sagetooth said. “How could you be so foolish?”
“I don’t know,” he sighed, looking down at his paws. “I’m sorry Sagetooth. This never should have happened.”
“Damn right!” she huffed, stomping past him to deposit her garlic in the herb stores. “Goldenstar has always had trouble respecting Clan tradition so I would have expected this from someone like her but you? You must have known this wasn’t acceptable behavior!” She sat down and turned to look at him, making her disapproval clear on her face.
“I did,” he said, and Sagetooth was surprised by his melancholy. “I knew the whole time that it was wrong and I still did it. I thought it would be fine if I kept it a secret, as if StarClan didn’t already know. I’m lucky they didn’t pick a harsher punishment.” Despite herself, Sagetooth felt her heart soften.
“Yes, you are,” she said firmly. “I’m glad you at least seem to understand what you did wrong.”
“I do,” he nodded, meeting her eyes with a hollow, hopeless gaze. That broke her heart. That expression didn’t belong on his powerful face.
“Tch, come here,” she sighed, spreading her tail to invite him close. He obediently approached and settled down against her flank, leaning down into her despite his superior height. Sagetooth stretched up to give him a few licks around the ears.
“What’s done is done, kit,” she continued. “All that’s left is how you make it right. You’ve told Goldenstar?”
“Yes,” he huffed sullenly. “She said it wasn’t going to be a problem. I hate how accepting she’s being about it.”
“It’s her way,” scowled Sagetooth. She pushed down the complaints she had that were begging to be voiced. Her duty now was to guide Russetfrond, not gripe about Goldenstar. “Have you tried convincing the kittypet to join the Clan?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “She’s not going to cooperate. It was all I could do to keep her from taking the kits back to her twolegs.” Sagetooth growled lowly. Kittypets…
“Well, good on you,” she said definitively. “Once they’re born they’ll need a strong paw to raise them up. I’m sure you’ll be able to foster their loyalties properly and turn them into excellent warriors.”
“Thank you, Sagetooth.” Russetfrond closed his eyes and leaned into her. She wrapped her tail around him and purred reassuringly.
“It’s going to be alright,” she said into his forehead. “The Clan will be there for you. StarClan is forgiving. This is a blessing in disguise, mark my words.” Russetfrond grunted tiredly. The two of them sat there for a good long while, Sagetooth letting him take comfort in her presence. It was good, she thought, to feel like her guidance was needed again.
She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to StarClan. Let him learn his lesson, she prayed. Let these kits be loyal warriors. Let their mother cause no problems.
After a few more long, quiet moments, Russetfrond gathered himself and stood up with a deep, slow breath. “I should get back to work,” he said. “Sparrowpaw has a lot of training to do before he gets his warrior name.”
“Good,” Sagetooth nodded. “Devote yourself to your Clan. It will make these next few months easier.” He nodded dutifully, looking a little less defeated. “And don’t be afraid to come to me if you need advice. It’s what I’m here for.”
“I will,” he said. “Thank you, Sagetooth.”
“StarClan guide you, kit,” she dipped her head and he returned the gesture.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#Sagetooth#Ospreymask#Branchbark#Russetfrond#Oddstripe#Newleaf#clangenrising
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Month 13 - Newleaf
“You'll watch her the whole time?” Russetfrond was saying to Pantherhaze. “I don’t want anything to happen while I’m gone.”
“I will, I promise,” said Pantherhaze offering a wilted-looking smile. “Please, just go enjoy the Gathering.”
“I won’t cause any trouble,” Mystique said, sitting beside her guard for the night. She offered a smile of her own to the deputy and he scowled in response. She still didn’t understand why he was so angry with her all the time or why he seemed to think she was going to turn around and attack them the first chance she got.
“You’d better not,” he growled.
“Come on, Russetfrond,” called Goldenstar from across the camp. Almost half of the cats had gathered on the slope of the hill - Goldenstar, Yarrowshade, Sagetooth, Ospreymask, and Floodpaw - and they were waiting expectantly for Russetfrond to join them. He huffed and gave Mystique one more pointed glare before stalking off to join them. She frowned .
“Have fun!” called Barleypaw.
“Will do!” Ospreymask called back.
After another beat, the group turned and headed out. Mystique yawned and stretched and looked over at her guard.
“So where are they all off to again?”
“The Gathering,” said Pantherhaze as if that answered the question.
“Okay…” she raised a brow. “That’s not vague or anything.”
“It’s a meeting between the different Clans,” he supplied. “Every full moon they go and-”
Sparrowpaw called over to them, “I’m not sure Russetfrond would approve of telling her all that.” He looked a bit anxious as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.
“It’s fine,” said Branchbark, laid out in the grass with Aldertail. “If she stays for too much longer, she’ll figure it out anyway.”
“Yeah, and besides,” Mystique said, “It’s not like I’m gonna try and kill you all or anything. I don’t know why everyone keeps acting like I’m some big threat.” Her eyes caught movement as Aldertail squirmed uncomfortably.
There was a small, uncomfortable silence that baffled her, but eventually Scorch spoke up from the warriors’ den. “If you still don’t get it then you’re being dumb on purpose.” She strolled over to the prey pile and hunched beside it to inspect the options, tail swishing with all of the confidence that she had wielded back in the city. Mystique’s eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to space where her Name Charm should be.
She considered shooting back but held her tongue. She still wasn’t sure where she stood with Scorch and she didn’t want any good-natured ribbing to be taken as an insult. Instead she cleared her throat and looked away, returning to her den in a way she tried to make casual instead of defeated. Scorch smirked and Mystique knew she hadn’t succeeded.
Pantherhaze followed her and settled down outside the door. The rest of the cats in camp went back to what they had been doing. Scorch picked a fish from the pile and ate it on the Stoneperch. The apprentices finished their own meals and went off into the night together. Branchbark slowly convinced Aldertail to relax again and started grooming her pelt. Mystique watched them and chewed the side of her cheek in frustration.
Why was she such an outsider here? She was fun and personable wasn’t she? Why did it feel like she had a symbol of doom hovering above her head that only other people could see? She wished her Folk were nearby. She wanted nothing more than to be pet and coddled. She sighed and flopped her head onto her legs. Pantherhaze tilted his head to look at her.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“No,” she groaned. “Am I dumb?” She tilted her head to look at him.
“Oh, no, I’m sure you’re not,” he said, which wasn’t the most reassuring thing in the world. “Don’t let Scorchplume bother you too much. She can be…. Prickly.”
Mystique shifted to face him more squarely. “No, but she’s right, isn’t she? I mean, what am I missing? Clearly it’s something or everyone wouldn’t treat me like I was a sprinkler waiting to go off.”
“A what?” he tilted his head in confusion like a puppy.
“A sprinkler,” she brushed the thought away with her tail. “It sprays water on a patch of grass or flowers.”
“Weird,” he frowned.
“Look, that’s not the point!” she shook her head, “What’s wrong with me?”
“What’s-” the little warrior blundered, “I don’t-”
“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes. She heaved herself to her feet and started across the camp towards Branchbark. “Hey!” Pantherhaze scrambled to keep up with her. At the sound of her voice, Aldertail shrank into a ball again. It was, honestly, really annoying.
“Uh-” Branchbark glanced between her and Aldertail, unsure what to do.
“I’ve got a question for you,” said Mystique. “Why does everyone think I’m a secret murderer or something?” Branchbark swallowed hard and sat up taller, giving Aldertail better cover and lifting his face up onto the level with Mystique’s.
“Um, because you’re a rogue?” he said like it was a question.
“What is that?” she pressed. “I’m a rogue? Since when?”
“It’s just a word we use for dangerous groups of cats,” said Pantherhaze, tail twitching.
“Okay, but what makes me so dangerous?” she said. From her spot above them all, Scorch laughed.
“Well, all the kittypets we’ve met so far have it out for us?” said Branchbark in the same tone. “They’ve been starving us out, they’re trying to kill Aldertail…”
“Well, okay, but she’s a criminal,” Mystique scoffed. “Besides, it's not like I’m gonna attack her right now for no reason.”
“You’ve contradicted yourself,” Scorch called airily. Mystique glared over, not appreciating the attitude she was giving.
“Yeah,” agreed Branchbark, “you just said you wouldn’t attack her for no reason but you admitted you think other cats have a reason to hurt her.” His tone was getting bolder, his jaw set with a defiant edge.
“Well, that’s not-” Mystique tried.
“And!” Branchbark kept talking, a fire starting to grow in him, “And, she didn’t even do anything! Her brother is the one who committed the crime!” Behind him Aldertail was shaking visibly. Her tail was tucked underneath her, her ears pressed flatly against her skull.
“I-it was an accident anyway!” she cried shakily, hiding under her own paws. “He didn’t mean it, he didn’t-!” The kittens had poked their heads out of the nursery to watch. Branchbark wrapped his tail tightly around her and leaned down to run his tongue over her forehead.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, “take a deep breath.”
“Right, but-” Mystique took a step back, “Look, I didn’t do anything though! I don’t know why you’re angry at me.”
“Exactly,” Scorch snapped, rising to her full height. “You didn’t do anything.” She stared at Mystique burning those words into her with eyes of blue flame. Mystique’s tail started to lash anxiously.
“What was there to do?” she said, “I’d never even met her before now!”
Scorch scoffed and leaped down to stride up to the group of cats. “You think you’re so good ‘cause you never do anything wrong but you never do anything right either. Razor and his pig-headed friends bully and kill and worse every day and you just pretend not to see it.”
“I don’t-” Mystique’s stomach was tight. The recesses of her mind were screaming. No! Leave now! You’re too close to the shadow truth! She took another step back.
Scorch followed her into the empty space, staring up at her. “You just sat by and let him. You’ll claim you didn’t see anything but you didn’t want to see it! I don’t know what’s worse, honestly; Razor, pretending he’s done nothing wrong, or you, pretending to believe him.” Mystique’s fur bristled and the words stung, sinking deep into her and piercing holes in the wall protecting her from the shadow truth. She’s right, it hissed, bubbling up within her.
Scorch was still going. “Tell me, Mystique: What will you do when he comes to kill us all? To drag me back? Will you shuffle your paws and turn away as he slaughters these cats? Will you go back to your Folk and forget it ever happened? Will you still convince yourself you were good?”
Mystique reeled. “No,” she said on instinct. “No, of course not, I-”
“Really?” Scorch laughed. “That’s what you’ve done every other day of your life! Why change now?”
‘Cause… ‘Cause I wouldn’t, Mystique thought, but no words managed to get through the chokepoint of her throat. How did she know that? She tried to imagine what she would do if Razor showed up in one of his tempers. The thought was paralyzing and that wasn’t a good sign. The shadow truth was starting to swallow her whole. He isn’t a good cat, it whispered, you know this. It’s been here the whole time. You don’t just know this, you have known. Her stomach roiled terribly.
Suddenly, Pantherhaze was shoving himself between her and Scorchplume. “Hey, ease off,” he said, his little voice firm as he could make it. Scorch curled her lip, glanced at Mystique one more time, and then turned around.
“Fine,” she said as if she were perfectly satisfied, “I said my piece.” She swished back up to the top of the Stoneperch to finish her meal, brows lifted imperiously. To Mystique, she felt vacant somehow. She didn’t have much time to examine why though. Pantherhaze turned to her, looking concerned.
“Why don’t we go back to the den?” he said gently and she just nodded. Branchbark was glaring at her while Aldertail clung to him like she was drowning, shivering in fear. The kittens were staring. Mystique ducked her head and, like a coward, fled back to the safety of her cage.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warriors oc#warrior cats oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#clangenrising#Mystique#Russetfrond#Pantherhaze#Scorchplume#Branchbark#Aldertail#Newleaf
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Month 2 - Newleaf
"Let's not stick around to find out," says Nightfrost, turning to lead the patrol away. There's prey to hunt and borders to check. Best to leave the twolegs to their business.
#Clangen#clan gen#clangen oc#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#Nightfrost#Songdust#Russetfrond#Newleaf#RisingClan#Twolegs#clangenrising
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Month 13 - Newleaf
Russetfrond sat perched at the top of the cornerstones, tail tip twitching slightly. He watched as Mystique and Yarrowshade crept through the foliage on opposite sides of a pair of squirrels. More accurately, he watched Mystique with a hawk eyed glare. At Goldenstar’s insistence, she had started joining hunting patrols over the last few days and he was there for every one of them. He didn’t trust anyone else to keep an eye on her.
She moved softly through the undergrowth, somehow managing not to cause a single noise from her bell collar, her long blue coat brushing just above the leaves. She stopped a couple fox-lengths away from the squirrels and waited for Yarrowshade to move into place and, as she did, she cast her gaze up to Russetfrond. He scowled and she smiled and his scowl deepened. He wished she would stop smiling at him all the time. As if she could read his thoughts, she smirked and shook her head.
Yarrowshade had moved into position. Mystique wiggled her haunches and then lunged forward, scuffing her paws noisily through the pine needles and leaf litter, a laugh burbling up from her chest. The squirrels panicked and fled straight into Yarrowshade’s waiting claws. He pounced on the smaller of them and snapped its neck in his teeth. The other squirrel veered off course and raced up a nearby tee. Mystique bounded after it and her paws were on the trunk when Russetfrond spoke up.
“Leave it,” he ordered.
“Oh, come on…” she complained, tearing her claws down the bark. “I could have caught it!”
“Exactly,” he frowned. “You still don’t get it.”
“Right,” she rolled her eyes, “I forgot there were a bunch of arbitrary rules about what prey you can and can't catch.” She sharpened her claws on the tree trunk for another second or two and then pushed off the trunk with a huff.
“It’s not arbitrary,” Yarrowshade said. “We’re trying to preserve next year’s hunt. If we killed every squirrel we found there would be no squirrels next year and we’d all starve.”
“Okay, but why not catch the fat one?” Mystique said. “Won’t that feed more cats?”
“It was probably pregnant,” he shrugged, licking prey blood from his lips. “It’s that time of year. We let it go, that means more squirrels later on.”
“I guess I see your point,” sighed the kittypet. Russetfrond huffed to himself and she looked up at him, nose scrunched petulantly. She even stuck her tongue out. He lashed his tail, hoping he had managed to come off as irritated rather than flustered. He hated how she got under his skin like that, especially with such childish behavior.
“I think we’ve got a pretty good catch,” Yarrowshade said, unaware as usual. “Why don’t you grab the bird you caught earlier and we can head back.”
“Aww, I wanna stay out,” she said. “The camp is so stuffy!”
“Too bad,” said Russetfrond. He rose and bounded down the sloping side of the Cornerstones. The rough, mossy stone felt comforting under his paws and he imagined himself leaving a Gathering like this, leader of his Clan descending from the place of highest honor, walking in his mother’s pawsteps. It was a comforting fantasy, off put somewhat by coming down to be face to face with Mystique.
“Come on, please?” she asked.
“Does that work on cats in the city?” he scowled back.
“Sometimes,” she pressed her ears back against her head.
“Just grab your damn bird,” he sighed. Yarrowshade was already heading off towards the border and he didn’t want them to fall too far behind. Mystique gave a beleaguered groan but went and fetched the bird from where they had stashed it without further complaint.
They padded through the trees in silence until they reached the outskirts where the trees started to thin. The river stretched out in front of them. It was deep and fast near the SkyClan border but widened and grew shallow as it flowed towards EarthClan. Mystique brightened when she saw it, like she did every time, and her tail started to wave above her back.
“Ooh, maybe we could take a swim?” she suggested.
“Uh, no thanks,” Yarrowshade laughed.
Mystique leaned in to bump her shoulders against his. “What, you afraid of a little water, Yare Bear?” Russetfrond grimaced.
“I’m not afraid,” said Yarrowshade, fur puffing up. “I just don’t like getting wet.”
“What are you talking about?” Mystique said. “Getting wet is the best feeling in the world.” Russetfrond couldn’t help but huff a little laugh through his nose at the phrasing. Mystique glanced over at him and smirked. “See, Bee Face gets it.”
“Don’t include me in this,” he said, a touch of humor still lingering. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about that.”
Mystique laughed, loud and bright. “Wow! Big self-own from Bee Face.”
Yarrowshade looked puzzled. “W- Oh, stars, are you two flirting?” He rolled his eyes. Both Russetfrond and Mystique turned to scowl at him.
“No,” snapped Russetfrond.
“Gross,” said Mystique.
“And besides,” continued Russetfrond, “if we were, you’re the last person who gets to complain. I can’t count the times I’ve had to suffer through your painful attempts at flirtation.” Yarrowshade bristled sourly.
“Ooh!” Mystique’s gaze sharpened with interest. “Are you a little Romeo, Yare Bear?”
“Don’t call me that,” Yarrowshade said, casting his face away uncomfortably.
“What, Romeo or Yare Bear?” Mystique asked.
“All of it,” Yarrowshade grumbled. “It’s weird.”
“I dunno,” hummed Russetfrond, “I think it’s growing on me. Maybe I’ll start calling you Yare Bear.” Mystique chortled.
“Ew,” Yarrowshade grimaced like he’d stepped in crowfood, “Stop it, man.”
“Stop what, Yare Bear?” smiled Russetfrond.
“Yeah, what’s wrong, Yare Bear?” asked Mystique, poorly hiding her laughter.
“I’m serious!” Yarrowshade hissed, “Stop it!” He sounded so much like a whiny apprentice that Russetfrond couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“Oh, come on,” he said, “have a thicker hide than that.”
“Yeah, we’re just poking fun,” said Mystique.
“Whatever,” Yarrowshade scowled, his tail lashing. They reached the river shore and Yarrowshade angrily leapt to the first of the mossy crossing stones they had used on their way over. When he jumped to the next, his paw slid off of the slick moss and the river drenched his back half as he scrambled not to fall in entirely. Mystique fell over cackling and Russetfrond bit his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud. Her laughter was infectious even without the added hilarity of Yarrowshade’s predicament.
Yarrowshade turned back, fur fluffed up in all directions except where it clung wetly to his skin, cheeks bright red in embarrassment. He seemed to growl tightly around the squirrel in his jaws. Silently fuming, he turned and quickly finished crossing, then dashed off into the grass without them.
“Wait!” Russetfrond tried but he couldn’t stop the laughter tinging his voice and he knew that Yarrowshade was long gone. He sighed, shook his head, and looked over to Mystique who had rolled onto her back, overwhelmed by her own laughter. The bird lay beside her, forgotten.
“What a dork!” she snorted. “Is he always like that?”
“Pretty much,” Russetfrond said.
“Man, it’s almost too easy!” She stood up and stepped into the river, ignoring the crossing stones.
“Hey, don’t forget your catch,” Russetfrond’s scowl returned.
“I’ll grab it in a minute,” she said, wading deeper into the river. “I wanna cool off for a sec.”
“We’re going back to camp,” he said stubbornly. “Stop fooling around.”
“Oh, you like it when I fool around,” she scoffed.
“I do not,” he puffed up slightly with indignation.
“Do too,” she said back. By now she was sinking into the river to douse her back.
“Ah, the pinnacle of eloquence,” he droned sarcastically.
“You know it,” she purred. She dunked her head under the water briefly and tossed it back, sending glittery droplets flying in a perfect arc. Russetfrond was ashamed at the way his throat tightened.
“Get out,” he snapped, “We’re going back to camp now.”
“Make me,” she smirked, looking over at him. He stared, dumbfounded. Was she really going to risk injury or getting banned from patrols over a few minutes in a river? Her grin only widened at his reaction. “You can’t, can you?”
“Of course I can,” he said, leaping to the first of the crossing stones.
“Yeah?” she challenged, silky fur swirling around her as she turned to face him. “I bet you can’t.”
Russetfrond shifted his weight to make sure he was steady on his stepping stone before he tried to reach out and snag her by the scruff. She dipped into the water and let it carry her backwards, out of his reach.
“Nuh-uh-uh,” she clucked, “You’re gonna have to get wet if you wanna stop me.” He growled one paw held to his chest as he considered her words. It looked like she was right. He didn’t enjoy getting wet but he didn’t hate it either, it was the aftermath that he hated, the chilly evaporation and the hours of grooming. Still, he wasn’t one to shirk an unpleasant task. Carefully, he adjusted himself for a jump, calculating the best place to land and making sure that he wasn’t about to faceplant or slip on a stone. Mystique watched him intently, hovering lightly on her paws with all but her head in the water.
A moment, then another, and then Russetfrond jumped, landing on top of her with an enormous splash. She sank to get out from under him but he lunged and snagged her collar in his teeth. With a sharp tug, he yanked her to the surface. She gasped for air and reared up onto her hind legs, suddenly lifting him. She was taller than him, imposingly so on her hind legs, and he realized a second too late that he should have let go.
She slammed forward, topping him backwards into the water, and her weight forced him to the bottom of the river. He realized suddenly that he was in danger. She had much better control in the water than he did. Had this all been a cunning ploy to drown her guard and get away? Adrenaline suddenly spiked through him and he lashed out with his hind claws. Her thick, unshed coat tangled his claws but the force of the kick landed in her gut and she quickly backed off of him. He spun to get his feet underneath him and burst from the water, gasping, then rounded on her, prepared for a counter attack.
He wasn’t ready for the worried expression she was wearing.
“Are you alright?” she asked, sounding genuine. He coughed a little and scowled at her, not yet ready to ease out of his battle stance.
“I’m sorry, I thought we were just messing around,” she continued, “I didn’t realize you couldn’t swim.”
“I can swim,” he said, feeling the embarrassment of his fizzling adrenaline rising to his cheeks. “I just- I thought you were pulling something.”
“Oh,” she sat down, face blank. Her lack of reaction made him even more embarrassed. Teeth gritted, he stomped out to the other side of the river and shook to get the water out of his ears.
“Grab the bird and let’s go,” he growled. “I’m done wasting time.”
“Yeah, okay,” she said limply. She sailed easily through the water, back to the far shore, and grabbed the bird, then slipped back into the water like a duck and pulled herself across. Russetfrond couldn’t understand how a cat could look so at home in water. Kittypets, he thought sourly.
“Thank you,” he grunted. “Let’s go already.”
“Yeah, okay,” she said, ears drooped. It was unsettling to him to see her this way. The sooner they got back to camp and he could stop thinking about her, the better. He picked up the pace through the grass, following Yarrowshade’s trail and trying not to shiver.
After a while, Mystique said, “Hey, sorry about that. I promise I’m not gonna like… murder you.”
“Why would you promise that?” he glared back at her.
She frowned in surprise. “Uh, cause I’m not a monster?”
“We’re enemies,” he said harshly. “What if your brother storms the camp and we’re forced to fight? You’re saying you wouldn’t raise your claws to defend your family?”
“I’d probably try and stop the fighting,” she snapped as if he were being irrational. “I don’t have to choose between killing you or killing my brother.”
“You might,” he said.
“No way,” she insisted. “It’s unrealistic to say those are my only choices.”
“That’s the kind of thinking that got Smokyrose killed,” he snarled, turning on her. She bristled and flattened backward. “You’re naive if you think Razor will give you another option.” She swallowed, searched his face, and he turned his head sharply away. He couldn’t stand that expression on her face. Without another word he stomped back to camp, only pausing to make sure she was behind him. She followed and for that he was grateful. She didn’t speak again and the walk back was stiff and silent.
When they returned he assigned someone to guard her and went to clean his fur on top of the Stoneperch. Why did he feel betrayed somehow? It wasn’t even the fight that upset him, it was how she had gone all soft and quiet like a kicked dog. That was the part that upset him the most and it didn’t make any sense. He hoped that Goldenstar would do something about Mystique soon ‘cause he wasn’t sure how much longer he could put up with her.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#clangenrising#Mystique#Russetfrond#Yarrowshade#Newleaf
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Month 13 - Newleaf
It wasn’t fair.
No matter how much Fogkit thought about it, she came back with the same conclusion. It wasn’t fair.
Ospreymask had told them the terrible news just after lunch. Fogkit had refused to believe it at first. Slatekit had started sobbing immediately and Fogkit had held her tight, glaring at the messenger with the kind of anger that made her whole body shake.
“Did she not want us?” Slatekit had managed to ask. “Did she- did she go to be with Ghost instead?”
“Oh, Slatekit, no,” Ospreymask had tried to lean in but Fogkit had hissed to keep her away. “She didn’t want to leave you. She was just trying to do her job in a really dangerous place and things went wrong.”
“Why did she go, though?” Fogkit had frowned. “Didn’t she know it was dangerous?”
“She did,” Ospreymask had said with a smile that felt mean somehow, like the older cat thought she needed to be handled with soft paws, “but she knew her job was really important. She wanted to keep you both safe and stop the fighting.”
“Well she should have thought about it more!” Fogkit had decided. That had made Slatekit cry even harder and Fogkit had insisted Ospreymask go away. She and Slatekit had gone back to the nest, still smelling faintly of her, and cried for a long time.
“I’ll never leave you,” Fogkit had sworn. “I’ll stay with you forever, Slatekit. I promise.” Eventually they’d fallen asleep, tangled in each other's embrace. When Fogkit woke up, Slatekit was gone.
She jumped to her feet and hurried out of the den to try and find her sister, her tail growing bottle brush. The evening was warm for the season, a gentle wind rustling just above the camp hollow. Someone had dragged a large husk of bark into the middle of camp and Slatekit was sitting with Barleypaw and Oddstripe, organizing flowers on its surface. Fogkit looked around and quickly scampered over to stand beside them.
“Hello, Fogkit,” Oddstripe said gently. “How are you feeling?”
Fogkit gave him a dubious side glance and turned to focus on Slatekit. “Hey, what are you doing?” she asked.
“Um…” Slatekit fiddled with one of the flowers she had in front of her.
“We’re getting ready for the funeral,” Barleypaw said. “Do you want to help us with the decorations, Fogkit?”
“What?” Fogkit scowled. “Why?”
“It’s supposed to be mama…” Slatekit mumbled, running her paw over the bark.
“But it’s not.” Fogkit’s brows furrowed deeply. “It’s wood.” Slatekit sniffled.
“It’s an effigy,” Oddstripe explained. “We don’t have a body for your mom so we’re going to pretend this piece of bark is her instead. That way we have something to put flowers on and sit with while we think about her.”
“That’s stupid,” declared Fogkit.
“N-no it’s not!” Slatekit fretted, shrinking into her fur.
“Yes it is.” Fogkit would not be budged. “It’s not our mama. It’s wood.”
“We know,” said Barleypaw, “but pretending can help make it feel less sad.”
“No it can't.” Fogkit was getting angry again. “This is bee-brained, you guys don’t know anything!”
Oddstripe frowned a bit. “Hey, let’s not say hurtful things, okay?”
“I can do what I want,” insisted Fogkit.
“Not when it hurts people,” he said.
“Yes I can,” she said. “You’re all stupid bee-brains and this effeegee is dumb. It doesn’t even look like her!”
“Fogkit, stop,” Slatekit sniffled. “I like it.”
“Why?” Fogkit’s tail lashed. “I can’t believe you left me to come play with a stupid piece of wood. I told you I would never leave you, didn’t I? I thought you were gonna do the same.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Slatekit protested, mumbling into her own chest fur, “I just wanted to make a good funeral.”
“Who cares?” Fogkit said, anger boiling up inside her. “Come on, let’s go do something else.”
Slatekit shook her head. “No, I wanna stay.”
“Why?!” Fogkit raised her voice. “This is stupid! Stop being such a bee-brain, it’s just wood!” Barleypaw looked at her father with a worried purse of her lips.
“Fogkit,” Oddstripe said, “This is what Slatekit wants to do. You have to respect that.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Fogkit spat back. Every part of her body felt like it was on fire and she had to get it out. She swiped her claws out to knock some of the flowers onto the ground. “This whole thing is stupid! Putting flowers on some bark doesn’t fix anything!” She stomped on them for good measure but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to rip the whole world apart. She reached for more flowers but Slatekit shoved her away.
“Stop!” she wailed. “Fogkit, I picked those ones special!”
Fogkit lunged and bit Slatekit on the paw as sharply. “Don’t push me!”
Slatekit fell back, scrambled into Barleypaw’s chest, and started to cry, staring at Fogkit with big wet gold eyes. Fogkit hated how much she saw her mother’s face there. Suddenly Oddstripe’s teeth were in Fogkit’s scruff and she squirmed and thrashed as he picked her up and dragged her away.
“Alright,” he said around her fur, “that’s a time out.” Her face burned in fury at the indignity.
“Let me go!” she screamed, swinging her claws wherever she could throw them, “I’ll tear your rotting legs off!” She could hear people whispering and it only made her more upset.
“You’re very angry,” Oddstripe started towards the nursery, “and that’s okay, but you can’t be out here biting people and yelling at them.”
“You’re not my mom!” she shouted and immediately she started to cry at the thought. “You’re-” a sniff, “You can’t tell me what to do!” Oddstripe finally let her go, sending her tumbling into the nursery. She jumped to her feet and tried to push past him but he blocked her with his chest and shoved her back in.
“I understand that you’re very upset,” he said. “You’re allowed to be upset. But just because your mom is gone doesn’t mean you get to act however you want and be nasty to other people. There are still rules. We still have to be kind to each other.”
“I hate you!” Fogkit spat, her fur bristling like it wanted to leap off of her body.
“Okay, fine,” Oddstripe sighed. Behind him Slatekit was staring. Fogkit looked away sharply.
“You can throw a tantrum if you want,” Oddstripe continued, “but you have to do it here in the nursery. If you want to come out you have to stop screaming and attacking people and destroying their things, understood?”
“That’s not fair!” Fogkit protested.
“Yes it is,” he said sternly. “What’s not fair is everyone else not being able to feel safe because you want to be a problem. Those are the rules. If you break them, I’ll have to speak to Goldenstar about postponing your apprenticeship or something.”
“What?!” Despair lumped in Fogkit’s throat. “You can’t do that!”
“Watch me, young lady,” said Oddstripe with an edge of a growl in his voice. With that, he turned away and went to rejoin Slatekit and Barleypaw near the effigy. Fogkit wanted to tear the thing to shreds or storm off into the fields or hit Oddstripe really, really hard but the looming threat of being delayed kept her from stepping outside.
It wasn’t fair, she thought again. Her mama went off and got killed and now she was getting punished for it. She stomped around the nursery looking for something to break or thrash or ruin. The only thing there was the nest she and Slatekit shared, the one that still smelled faintly of her mama. She screamed at the unfairness of it all. She fell on the ground and writhed in circles, screaming and sobbing as loudly as she could. If she had to hurt like this, she felt like everyone deserved to know about it.
She sank her claws into the base of the wall and pulled herself along it, tearing out clots of dirt with her hind claws. She pushed herself to go faster and faster. When she reached the entrance, she rolled over and went back the other way. After a few loops, she collapsed halfway through, completely exhausted, and lay flat on her stomach. A high, keening cry built up in her chest and seeped out between big, wet gasps for air.
It wasn’t fair.
Eventually she got tired of crying and went to sit in the entrance of the den. She wanted to go out but she also didn’t and she knew that if anyone made her angry she might end up getting held back so she hunkered down on the boundary instead. She watched the others finish adorning the effigy with flowers and pine branches.
Once they were done, they called everyone together and the whole Clan gathered around the stupid piece of wood. Even Scorchplume and Aldertail came to sit on opposite edges of the clearing. Goldenstar said some ceremony things and invited other people to start talking.
Pantherhaze told a long, boring story and finished with, “Smokyrose was the kindest cat I ever knew. Her absence will be sorely felt… May StarClan light her way.” There were a series of nods and mumbled agreements then a moment of silence. Fogkit huffed sourly.
Russetfrond cleared his throat and said, “She was like a second mother to me. She, uh… She never had any expectations for you, just love. Whatever you were, that was enough.” He let out a shaky breath. Fogkit scowled. She’d never even seen him stop by the nursery to say hi to her mama, what right did he have to get all sad about it?
“Yeah,” said Goldenstar. “She was the best of us.”
There was another long pause. Fogkit’s attention started to wander, unable to keep staring at all of these people’s sullen faces. Unexpectedly, she locked eyes with the kittypet sitting in the entrance to the elders’ den. Floodpaw was sitting guard next to her, attention fixed on the strange funeral, but the kittypet was staring right at her. Fogkit frowned.
The kittypet smiled lopsidedly and waved a paw, looking worried but hopeful. Fogkit frowned deeper.
“Did you want to say anything, Slatekit?” she heard Barleypaw ask. Her attention immediately moved back to her sister. Slatekit glanced back over her shoulder to look at Fogkit as well. Guilt pooled in Fogkit’s mouth at the sight of her sister’s worried expression.
“Um…” Slatekit looked back at the effigy and said, “I miss her.” Barleypaw and a few other cats nodded.
Goldenstar looked over at the nursery and called gently, “Did you wanna come say something, Fogkit?” Fogkit shook her head. “Okay.”
There was another long pause and then Goldenstar said, “Well, Smokyrose, wherever you are, we wish you well. May you find good hunting in StarClan.” Several of the other cats meowed their agreement.
“Okay, Slatekit,” Barleypaw said, “we’re gonna take the flowers over to the graves now, yeah?”
“Yeah, okay,” said Slatekit. She and Barleypaw started gathering up the flowers they had spent so long organizing and making pretty. Fogkit shook her head. What a stupid thing to do.
The kittypet was watching her again. She could tell the grown up was thinking and that made her pelt crawl. Shaking herself, she retreated into the den and curled up in the solitary nest. Feeling heavy and hollow at the same time, she curled around herself and shut her eyes. She just wanted to sleep now, to stop being here and now.
After a while, Slatekit came inside and curled up next to her. Fogkit sniffled and wiggled closer to the warmth of her sister’s body and suddenly she felt Slatekit wrapping her paws around her neck.
“I love you, Fogkit,” she said.
Fogkit sniffled and started to cry.
It wasn’t fair.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#clangenrising#Ospreymask#Barleypaw#Oddstripe#Mystique#Russetfrond#Pantherhaze#Goldenstar#Smokyrose#if you notice a change in the way the kits are written from last time its because i realized theyre almost 5 moons old#and i was not writing them age appropriately before lol#children are so hard to conceptualize#Fogpaw#Slatepaw
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Month 13 - Newleaf
“Still no sign of them,” Pantherhaze said sadly. “Russetfrond and Sparrowpaw are still out there waiting though.”
Goldenstar sighed. The longer they waited, the clearer it became that Smokyrose and Songdust were in serious trouble. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much they could do but wait. They had no idea where the missing cats were and the chances that anyone she sent would also go missing were just too high. She couldn’t in good conscience send her warriors into such a dangerous situation and so she was forced to sit and hope that the two old she-cats would find their ways back home.
“Alright,” she said. “Thank you, Pantherhaze.”
“Of course,” he said. Dipping his head, he slipped off to get a meal and left her alone at the foot of the Stoneperch. She closed her eyes and let the cold night wash her with melancholy. She tried to think about what Sunstar would do in this situation but that only led her to the conclusion that Sunstar would be storming the city single-pawed to get her sister back and Goldenstar would be forced to try and stop her. She almost wished it was that easy for her, that she had a good enough excuse to storm blindly into trouble. Then at least she wouldn’t have to agonize over the choice to do nothing.
A strange scent blew down into camp on the wind, vanilla mixed with thunderpath and twolegs. Her fur bristled and she snapped towards it, mouth open. Had an attack finally come to their camp? The scent wasn’t strong enough to be too many cats. Her ears strained towards the sound, hoping for more details.
“I’m just saying, he started it,” said a stranger’s voice, causing Goldenstar’s tail to brush up.
Then Russetfrond’s voice set her slightly at ease. “What are you, six weeks old?”
“Enough!” Goldenstar’s heart leapt at the sound of a third, impossibly familiar voice. “You’re both very cute and funny and smart. Can we please give it a rest?” A pair of mismatched ears crested the slope and then there was Scorch, strolling into camp like nothing had happened, a perfect scowl on her perfect face.
“Scorchplume!” Goldenstar was halfway across camp before she knew what was happening.
“What?!” she heard Yarrowshade shout from inside the warriors’ den.
Scorch had stopped in her tracks wearing a blank expression. Goldenstar stopped too. Was Scorch still upset with her? Oh, Stars, she hoped not. She was wearing a little blue collar with a little star shaped charm. Her blue eyes seemed to glow in the fading twilight as she licked her lips apprehensively.
“Scorch!” Yarrowshade had burst out of the warriors’ den and bounded up past Goldenstar to butt his head against hers, a deep purr thrumming in his chest. Scorch stiffened but leaned into the touch. With the spell of her gaze broken, Goldenstar suddenly noticed the large blue she-cat looming close behind wearing a collar of her own and a suspicious glare. Cats were starting to gather, whispering amongst themselves, and the kittypet looked like she was trying to size all of them up.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” Yarrowshade laughed. “What happened to you?”
Scorch let out a small, frustrated noise from her throat, like she tried to speak but no words came out. “It’s a long and complicated story,” she ended up saying. Turning to look at the kittypet, she added, “This is Mystique. She helped me escape.”
“I feel like ‘escape’ is a bit much,” the cat said.
“No, it’s quite accurate,” Scorch said, looking back at Goldenstar. The leader’s breath suddenly froze in her chest. “Smokyrose is dead.”
“What?” Russetfrond snapped, suddenly tensing up again. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
“How do you know?” Yarrowshade asked.
Scorch pursed her lips and glared back at Russetfrond. “I told you I wanted to find Goldenstar before I started talking, remember?” She ignored Yarrowshade.
“Right,” said Goldenstar, jolted out of her paralysis. “Why don't you come sit and tell us what you have to share.” She swept her tail towards the center of camp. As much as she probably ought to pull Scorch into her den for a more private briefing, she knew that everyone was going to be starving for details and that it would be faster if they all just heard them now instead of asking her for them one by one.
“Thank you,” Scorch sighed, shoulders slacking. “Mystique and I are both very hungry as well. Would it be alright if we ate?”
“Of course,” Goldenstar said immediately.
Russetfrond growled. “We shouldn’t be sharing prey with the enemy, Goldenstar.”
“She brought one of our warriors home,” she replied. “At least for tonight, she’s a guest.” Russetfrond huffed disapprovingly but didn’t protest any further. Mystique shot him the smuggest grin. Oh, dear, Goldenstar thought. Those two are going to be a pawful.
A moment later, everyone who was awake was gathered around Scorch and Mystique who had been given a mouse each. Mystique seemed unsure how to approach the prey at first but once Scorch started eating she quickly followed suit. Everyone gave them a few beats to eat despite the palpable curiosity in the air.
Russetfrond eventually broke the silence. “What do you know about Smokyrose and Songdust?”
Scorch swallowed and straightened her posture authoritatively. “Smokyrose is dead. She and Songdust showed up to try and barter peace two days ago but Razor found out that she and Ghost were intertwined and killed her for it.” Mystique glanced at her with a frown but refrained from interrupting, focused instead on finishing her meal.
“Because she wasn’t from the city?” Goldenstar asked in shock. She’d heard old stories about tyrannical leaders killing the cross-clan mates of their warriors before. She wondered if Razor was a kittypet purist.
“Not exactly,” Scorch said. “He and Ghost are not on good terms right now. Razor killed her just to spite him.” Her tail lashed once but Goldenstar could see the burning anger underneath her calm and collected facade. Floodpaw reflected that anger, tail lashing back and forth as he sat on the edge of the meeting with his littermates.
“That’s horrible!” Ospreymask said.
“Poor Smokyrose…” mumbled Pantherhaze, looking at his paws.
“What about Songdust?” Pressed Russetfrond.
“She escaped,” Mystique volunteered. “Nobody’s seen her since.”
“Nobody?” Branchbark frowned.
“Nobody who will say anything at least,” shrugged Mystique.
“Snake guts,” Yarrowshade cursed, staring through the dirt with wide, overwhelmed eyes. Beside him, Pantherhaze shut his eyes and whispered a prayer under his breath.
“Okay, well that’s good,” Goldenstar said, trying to focus on the positive. “That means she’s probably safe.”
“So why hasn’t she come home?” Ospreymask asked.
“There’s a chance she’s been caught by the humans,” Scorchplume said, licking the last traces of her mouse from her lips. “If they’ve got her she’ll be in a place the city cats call a Judgement House.”
“Oh, that’s not scary at all,” Yarrowshade muttered.
Scorch continued, “They’ll decide if she’s Chaff or if she’ll become Exalted - what you would call a kittypet. If she’s Chaff, she’ll be back on the street after about four days. If she’s not then it could take moons.”
“Seriously?” Ospreymask scoffed. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Scorch shrugged. “I got taken home by a human after a week.”
“So you were in one of these ‘Judgement Houses’?” Goldenstar asked. The idea sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what such a place would look like.
“Yes,” Scorch twitched an ear. “It’s not important though. What is important is that the city cats are preparing to step up their attack. They’re going to keep starving you out but on top of that they’re training the Chaff to fight so they can send strike teams to pick your patrols off one by one.” Goldenstar noticed Mystique shifting uneasily, eyes darting over the scowling warriors around her.
“If they fight anything like the cats we fought before, they won’t stand a chance,” Floodpaw declared, puffing up his chest.
“Shush,” Goldenstar said and he deflated, ears flopping backwards.
“It doesn’t matter if they do,” Scorch said. “There are a lot more Chaff in the city than there are Clan cats and the Exalted won’t have a problem with throwing them at you until you’re overwhelmed. It’s not a matter of if they wipe you out, it’s a matter of when.” Goldenstar swallowed.
“So what do we do?” Branchbark asked.
“Run?” Scorch said. “I told you, there’s no winning with Razor. Your best chance is to leave and live to fight another day.”
“No way,” Russetfrond growled.
“That’s been discussed and discarded already,” Goldenstar said. “The Clans would never agree to it.”
“I thought Snowstar was willing to help us relocate on the other side of the mountains,” said Yarrowshade.
“Yes,” Goldenstar winced, “but I doubt we’d be able to convince SkyClan and FallenClan to come with us. Besides, we already decided that we weren’t going to abandon our home.”
“Goldenstar, how many times do I have to tell you,” Scorchplume’s claws sank into the grass, “there is no other way! If you stay here you’ll all die. That’s that.”
Goldenstar bit her lip, unable to hold back the disappointment overwhelming her. She’d hoped that if she ever saw Scorch again that there would be a tearful reunion, not a bitter argument. She shuffled a bit, aware that the eyes of her Clan were on her. Whatever she said next would have weight.
“I know you believe that,” she said and she saw Scorch scowl defensively. Quickly, she added, “I’m not saying you’re crazy, I’m just saying I have to make sure there isn’t another course of action before we resort to something that drastic.”
“We should ask StarClan,” Ospreymask suggested. “They led us to victory during the snowstorm! They can do it again!”
“Of course they did,” Scorch scoffed, rolling her eyes as she looked away. Goldenstar wanted to scream. They had! Scorch had somehow managed to be gone right when StarClan gave them definitive proof of their existence. It was infuriating.
“I’ll plan a visit to the River,” she said instead. “We’ll see what guidance they can provide.”
“What about you?” Branchbark said to Mystique. “What do you think we should do?”
The kittypet sat up, ears flicking back uncomfortably, and she looked around at them with an uneasy grimace. “Me?”
“Yeah,” he said. “You helped Scorchplume. You can’t be all that bad. We have kits and elders here who are in danger and we’ll fight to defend them but we don’t want to kill your cats any more than we want you to kill ours.”
“Sure,” scoffed Mystique. “I’ve heard about how you swarmed the hunting party and slaughtered Sycamore.”
“He was going to kill Floodpaw,” Ospreymask said, voice sharp and clipped. Floodpaw squirmed in embarrassment.
Branchbark tried again. “We were just trying to defend our homes and our loved ones. I’m sure you understand that, right?” Mystique nodded after a beat. “So what do you think we should do? You know the city cats better than we do. What’s the best way forward for everyone?” Goldenstar raised her brows, impressed. Branchbark was sharp as a thorn, as usual. All eyes turned to Mystique, waiting for her answer. Scorch in particular seemed invested in what she had to say.
“Well…” the big blue she-cat swallowed, a frown tugging at her lips. “My brother is a stubborn cat. He wants the wild territories and he’s probably not going to give up any time soon.”
“Your brother?” Russetfrond glared.
“Razor,” Scorch said tightly. Everyone bristled.
“What?!” Yarrowshade was on his feet.
“The kits are sleeping!” Ospreymask hissed at him.
“How could you bring her here?!” Russetfrond accused Scorch. “Weren’t you thinking?!”
“I did what I had to do,” Scorch snarled, voice dripping with a venom Goldenstar had never heard before. “Don’t you dare lecture me!” Mystique had pulled back into a defensive crouch, tail twitching in grim anticipation of a fight.
“Everyone calm down,” Goldenstar stood as well, trying to speak authoritatively without raising her volume too much. “Blood isn’t everything. She’s done nothing but help us so far, we’re not going to turn on her because of her brother’s actions.” Yarrowshade glared at her for a second before sitting down again. Russetfrond didn’t move, locked in a staring contest with Scorchplume.
“He’s really not so bad…” Mystique said weakly.
“Have you ever heard him talk?” Yarrowshade laughed bitterly.
“Didn’t he kill Smokyrose over a petty grudge?” said Ospreymask.
“He’s the worst kind of monster there is,” Scorch growled, still squinting furiously at Russetfrond. “He takes just to take and he’s cruel without cause. But Mystique isn’t like him.” She glanced over at the kittypet. “She may be a little obtuse but she means well.”
“Okay, ouch,” Mystique said defensively. Scorch opened her mouth like she was going to continue then pursed her lips and looked away again.
“Maybe we should have this conversation in the morning,” suggested Pantherhaze. “I think some sleep would do everyone some good.”
“I suppose I could stay the night,” Mystique mumbled.
“Oh, you’ll stay longer than that,” growled Russetfrond. Looking at Goldenstar, he said, “She knows where our camp is, what our numbers are, what we plan to do. She can’t go back to the city.”
“Hold on!” Mystique rose to her paws, causing Russetfrond, Yarrowshade, Ospreymask, and Floodpaw to do the same. “You can’t keep me here!”
“We can do whatever we like,” Russetfrond hissed, back arching. Goldenstar felt the situation quickly slipping away from her.
“Look,” she said, “he has a point. It would be extremely unwise to let you return to the others. You’ll have to stay here, at least for a while. I’m really sorry.” Mystique’s mouth fell open, dumbfounded.
“The elder’s den is empty now,” Russetfrond said, lowering back into a calmer posture. “We can keep her there. I’ll take first watch and then organize a rotation tomorrow.”
“Alright,” Goldenstar agreed. “Try not to provoke her too much, okay?” He grunted in reluctant affirmation.
“Great,” glowered Mystique, “can’t someone else be my jailer?”
“Think of him more as your personal bodyguard,” Scorch smiled. The smug tone of her voice and the way that Mystique’s expression became suddenly guilty told Goldenstar there was some kind of personal meaning there she wasn’t aware of.
“Besides,” Scorch continued, standing and swishing her tail in a beautiful arc, “It’s not like you can go home. Once Razor finds out you stole his precious little bird you’ll be public enemy number one.”
Mystique’s face fell, horror dawning behind her eyes. “Wait…”
“You didn’t think about that, did you?” Scorch huffed a laugh through her nose. “Well, you’ll have plenty of time to think about it now.”
“Come on,” Russetfrond said, stepping closer. “Let’s go.” Mystique stared at Scorch for another beat then slowly rose to her paws and let Russetfrond corral her into the empty elders’ den. Goldenstar’s throat seized guiltily.
“Sparrowpaw,” she called.
“Yes?” He straightened his posture attentively.
“Get her some water and fresh bedding, alright?”
“Yes, Goldenstar,” Sparrowpaw nodded and hurried off to do so.
“Better than she deserves,” Floodpaw grumbled.
Goldenstar shot him a stern look. “Shush. Don’t you have dawn patrol tomorrow? Go to bed.”
“Fine…” he sighed, trudging back to the apprentices’ den beside Barleypaw. Branchbark and Pantherhaze slipped into the warriors’ den. Ospreymask went back to the top of the hill to resume her night watch. Goldenstar and Yarrowshade were left with Scorch, a quiet tension hanging between them. Goldenstar decided to break the silence sooner rather than later.
“I’m glad you’re back,” she said softly.
“Yeah,” said Yarrowshade, “me too.”
Scorch shifted. The mask that Goldenstar had spent moons trying to loosen was back in place, tightly affixed to her features. Goldenstar felt it, like a wound in her own throat. When Scorch spoke, she sounded casual in a way that Goldenstar knew was calculated.
“We’ll see how long I stick around,” she shrugged. “You may want to stay and get murdered but I’ll be long gone before then.”
“C’mon, you don’t mean that,” Yarrowshade frowned.
Goldenstar stepped forward, quickly saying, “Whatever you choose to do, we’ll understand.” Yarrowshade’s frown turned on her and she shot him a scowl in reply.
“Right,” Scorch said. “Of course.”
Yarrowshade glanced at her then ducked away. “Um, I’m off to bed,” he mumbled. “See you tomorrow.” He slunk away, tail brushing the ground. Goldenstar thought she caught a sliver of a frown on Scorch’s face but it was gone immediately.
“I’m sorry about him,” she said.
Scorch hummed noncommittally.
“So…” she said, her stomach writhing like a pit of snakes. “You were a kittypet.” She glanced at the collar and Scorch followed her gaze, seemingly surprised to see it.
“Oh, yeah, I was,” she said. “I’d love to get this thing off though.”
“Let me help you,” Goldenstar stepped closer then stopped, waiting for Scorch to close the rest of the distance. There was a pause and then she did.
“It’s not that tight,” she said. “I think you could probably pull it off without too much trouble.”
“Let me see,” Goldenstar breathed, leaning in to inspect it. She tested the thing in her teeth, pulled at it, then said, “Uh, duck your head?” Scorch complied and she leaned over to grab it from the back. As her teeth brushed Scorch’s scruff, she felt Scorch’s entire body stiffen in fear, smelled the sweat forming on her paw pads. It scared her. Quickly, she hooked her teeth around the collar and pulled, wiggling it over Scorch’s ears and onto the ground. Scorch let out a shaky breath and stood up straight, giving her fur a few licks to smooth it down.
“Thank you,” she said, “I’ll get rid of that thing in the morning.”
Now, thought Goldenstar, say something before you lose your chance!
“Uh, your old nest is gone but you can stay in my den tonight if you like.”
Scorch swallowed and squinted at her. “No. No, I think I’ll just use Russetfrond’s. I appreciate the generous offer though.”
“Alright.” Goldenstar smiled, blood draining from her face. “Good night.” She swiveled and strode quickly into her own den, worried that she would die of embarrassment before she arrived. That could have gone better. There was this massive wall between them that she didn’t know how to scale and it was killing her.
Scorch was home though… that was good. She could work with that.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#Clangenrising#Goldenstar#Scorchplume#Russetfrond#Mystique#Yarrowshade#Pantherhaze#Ospreymask#Branchbark#Floodpaw#Sparrowpaw#newleaf#clangenrising
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Month 6 - Greenleaf
Nightfrost led the way over the gentle, sloping hills with Pantherhaze and Russetfrond behind her. The sun had already started to set and her hope was that now that the heat and light had begun to fade, the mice and voles near the river would be eager to come out where they could be caught. The patrol had been walking quietly, its members occupied with their exertion, but as the river and the Cornerstones beyond it started to come into view, Russetfrond spoke.
“So, Nightfrost… I’m curious to hear your thoughts on Goldenstar’s new… changes.”
Nightfrost glanced over at him and tried to get a read on his intention. She knew that Russetfrond hadn’t been very happy when Goldenstar had been named his mother’s deputy. Goldenstar had confessed in private that she was worried he hated her. On his face, Nightfrost found a guarded interest, an expression that said ‘I want to know what you think before I tell you how I feel.’ She knew she would have to be careful in how she responded.
“I think the changes are designed to make people feel more welcome,” she said, “I guess we’ll have to wait and see if they hit the mark.”
Russetfrond hummed disappointedly. “That’s one way to put it.”
“What do you think about the changes?” Nightfrost asked, tilting her head.
“I think it's bold of Goldenstar to do something so drastic this early into her leadership,” he responded without hesitation. “Less than six moons and she’s already opening our borders to any cat who pleases to pass through and doing away with traditions that have served us well for hundreds of years. I don’t know where she gets off.”
“That’s a bit harsh,” Nightfrost huffed, “She isn’t doing this for kicks, she clearly thinks this is the right thing to do.”
“‘Clearly,’” Russetfrond repeated. “So she hasn’t talked about it with you.”
Nightfrost kicked herself. “No, not exactly.” Russetfrond chuffed, ears twitching as he looked away over the grassland. Nightfrost continued, “But she doesn’t need to consult me for every decision. She was Sunstar’s deputy for a while, she knows what she’s doing by now.” The voice in her head added, I hope.
“Still,” Pantherhaze spoke up, “Aren’t you a little worried? I mean… she didn’t mention StarClan at all in the last naming ceremony.” He shrugged a bit, looking guilty. “I don’t know, I don’t like the idea that she’s already forgotten the cats who gave her her lives.”
“She hasn’t forgotten StarClan,” Nightfrost said firmly. “She went to seek their guidance before her announcement at the Gathering, remember?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true…” Pantherhaze admitted quietly. At that moment, they arrived at the river and Russetfrond stopped near the bank to turn back towards Nightfrost, his eyes challenging her subtly.
“She says that, but that doesn’t mean she listened to them,” he said. “She’s too busy listening to Scorch.” He let the name fall out of his mouth like a piece of sour prey, grimacing. “Surely you’ve noticed they’ve been spending more and more time together, when she isn’t toying with Yarrowshade, that is.”
Nightfrost’s jaw was suddenly tight. “You make it sound like Scorch is seducing him with her roguish wiles,” she scoffed.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she was,” Russetfrond shrugged in reply. “She’s clearly an expert liar and manipulator. It makes you wonder what she really wants from Goldenstar.” Nightfrost’s stomach churned uneasily. She wanted to protest but knew she didn’t have a very good argument. Just because she didn’t want something to be true didn’t mean it wasn’t.
Shifting his weight nervously, Pantherhaze interjected, “I wouldn’t say that. We don’t have proof she’s manipulating anybody.”
“When you think there’s a fox around, you don't wait for it to bite your head off before you start being cautious,” Russetfrond stated flatly. Pantherhaze looked down, throat laboring quietly, ears pressed back.
Nightfrost took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “I understand why you’re uneasy,” she said, “but we can’t jump to worst case scenarios. That kind of fear mongering about outsiders is the exact behavior Goldenstar is trying to curtail.”
“Then what do you suggest we do, Nightfrost?” growled Russetfrond.
She didn’t know. “I’ll talk to her,” she said. “For now, we’ll focus on hunting and minding our own business.”
“This is our business,” Russetfrond shook his head. “Everything Goldenstar changes affects us all.” He then turned and padded off along the river bank, for the moment agreeing to suspend the conversation. Pantherhaze winced up at her and stepped closer, gaze gentle.
“He just wants to help,” the little tom whispered. “I know he sounds harsh, but he just cares very deeply about this Clan. Just like his mother did.” He glanced over his shoulder after his friend, tail swishing.
“I know,” Nightfrost responded softly. “I’ll make sure his concerns are heard. Thank you for bringing them up.”
Pantherhaze smiled at her, looking as if a huge weight had just lifted off of his shoulders. “Thank you, Nightfrost.” Butting his head against her shoulder, he turned and slunk after Russetfrond, leaving the deputy alone with her thoughts for the moment. She sighed again and let her authoritative posture droop for a moment.
She wished that Goldenstar had come to her already, that she could confidently back up her leader because they were of one mind and mission. She wished she could stop being stupid and jealous for a minute so she could objectively assess the situation. It was hard to know if Scorchplume was a threat to her Clan when she was too busy worrying if she was a threat to her relationship with Yarrowshade, whatever that was. Stars, that was its own nest of snakes.
Most of all, Nightfrost wished life were simple. Oh well, she thought, if wishes were fishes the Clan would never go hungry. She needed to focus on her primary duty, making sure that her Clanmates were taken care of. Shaking her fur to dispel the cloud of insects that had begun to land on her pelt, she opened her mouth to scent for prey and followed after her Clanmates.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warriors oc#warrior cats oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#clangenrising#Nightfrost#Russetfrond#Pantherhaze
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Month 13 - Newleaf
Mystique returned home late at night, tired and sore. Razor had every cat who wasn’t already training the Chaff or doing some other kind of errand for him searching the city for the escaped wild cat. She and London had spent the entire day scouring the more remote edges of town for signs of the old gal and her paws were worn nearly raw from it. She couldn’t help but respect the old she-cat, honestly. Somehow she had managed to avoid anyone catching sight of her for days - no easy feat.
Sighing, she jumped over the fence into her yard, comforted by the familiar rattle of wood. Home sweet home, she thought, time to get some well deserved rest. If she was lucky, the Folk might not have put away the wet food yet. Just as she reached her flap the fence rattled again and she wilted, turning to face the visitor.
“Ugh, what now?” she groaned, tilting her head towards the sky. She dropped the weary complaining when she saw Gingersnap’s face. Her neighbor was striding quickly across the grass, an intensely furrowed brow and pursed lips betraying her anxiety.
The fence rattled again and a tortoiseshell with a notched ear followed after her. “Your Grace, wait-”
“I told you,” Gingersnap said tightly, “I’m just coming to talk to Mystique. You can return to your post.”
“But-” the Chaff cat winced.
“It’s alright,” Mystique said, “I’ll keep eyes on her. Go back to your post.”
That seemed to set the cat at ease and she nodded, returning back the way she came. Gingersnap sighed in relief as well but the tension underneath her smile remained. Mystique frowned. Something was wrong.
“Thank you,” Gingersnap said, stepping up close, “I wanted to have a word with you in private.”
“Sure thing,” Mystique said, shifting her posture to be more attentive. “What’s up?”
Gingersnap hesitated. It seemed to Mystique that she was considering turning back with a ‘nevermind’ and that only made her curiosity burn stronger. What was bothering Gingersnap so strongly?
Eventually, the smaller cat swallowed and said, “Mystique, I need to ask for your help and it’s very important.”
“Of course,” Mystique said, leaning in, “Whatever you need, I’ll help you.”
Gingersnap searched her face nervously. “I need you to take me to the frontier. Now.”
“Now?” Mystique sat up taller in confusion. “What for?”
“I-” Gingersnap’s words caught in her throat and she shifted her weight like there were fleas in her fur. She grimaced then blurted, “I need to get away from here. I can’t keep going like this, I- I need you to take me to the frontier and we can’t let anyone know where I went. Please, Mystique, I'm begging you.” She curled her tail underneath herself submissively, eyes wide and pitiful. Mystique could tell she was putting on a show but the desperation seemed genuine and that frightened her.
“I mean…” she wasn’t sure where to start. “Okay, sure, but I don’t- I thought you liked it here?”
Gingersnap scoffed wetly, tears starting to gather in her eyes. “Please! This place is a nightmare. Surely you’re smart enough to see that!”
“I thought you and Razor-”
“Mystique, Razor is the reason it’s a nightmare! He’s terrible, he-” she choked on the words, looking away. “I don’t want to talk about everything he’s done to me.” Mystique was baffled by the sudden emotion on display. She had known that her brother and Gingersnap had their differences, that things had clearly been strained after her return, but this was different.
“So you’ve just been lying to everyone?” Mystique asked.
“Yes!” Gingersnap stepped closer, bringing the conversation into a more intimate whisper. “Please, you have to understand! If I wasn’t perfect Razor would destroy me. He’s a monster, can’t you see that?”
Mystique squirmed uncomfortably. “He’s a dick, sure, but he’s always been good to me…” That was a bit of a stretch. He’d definitely done her wrong in the past but that was just what older brothers did, wasn’t it? They gave you shit, they pushed you around, but they loved you anyway. Razor wasn’t perfect but a monster? That was a line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross.
“He killed a defenseless old woman the other day!” Gingersnap said desperately. “She came to make peace and he killed her!”
Mystique shook her head. “No, that’s not what happened. The wild cats came to demand surrender.” Sure, Razor had perhaps gotten carried away in killing the wild cat but given the brutal murder of his close friend, Sycamore, she could understand how that kind of thing would have upset him so intensely.
Gingersnap’s eyes narrowed sharply. “I was there,” she hissed, “I saw what happened! I- I knew her.”
“You knew her?” That didn’t make any sense.
Gingersnap swallowed and looked over her shoulder briefly, then down at the grass. “Yes. Her name was Smokyrose.” Her anger faded to something tender and sorrowful. “She was a peacemaker and a mother. She was painfully kind and stupidly naive and she thought she could convince Razor to stop the fighting and he killed her just to spite Ghost.” The anger came back again, this time a low simmering fire of loathing. If Gingersnap was lying right now, she was giving a masterful performance and Mystique knew first hand she wasn’t quite this good. The knowledge weighed her stomach down like a cold and heavy stone.
“That’s…” Mystique swallowed. “That can’t be true.”
“You know it is,” said Gingersnap, meeting her eyes again. “In your gut, you know I’m right.”
Mystique stared. Words failed her, scattered and lost by the dreadful truth looming over her.
“This is why I need your help,” Gingersnap continued. “All those months I was away, I was living with the wild cats. I need you to take me back there. I’ve tried getting Ghost to take me and it hasn’t worked but if we go tonight I think we can make it. Please, Mystique. I can’t take another day here, I can’t.” She swallowed and closed her mouth, seeming to hold her breath as she waited for a response.
The world was spinning around Mystique. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, like she was trying to pick up a toy and someone had poured a whole basket of identical ones on top of her. She wanted to shut this all out and go back to the way things had been, but that would mean shutting out Gingersnap. She took another look at her friend, at the tear stains on her cheeks and the fear in her eyes.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay, yeah.”
“Really?” Gingersnap smiled disbelievingly.
“Yeah,” said Mystique, committing to the idea however scary it was. “I promised my brother I would look out for you and I meant it, even if… even if he’s the one you need protection from. I wanna be there for you, Gingersnap.”
“Please, call me Scorch,” said Scorch.
“Okay. You got it,” said Mystique. Scorch smiled and nearly rose up to headbut her affectionately but seemed to think better of it halfway through the movement and pulled back.
“Right,” she said, clearing her throat awkwardly. “Lead the way.”
And so she did. It was strange. They’d walked together like this many times before but never before had Mystique felt like she was doing something wrong like she did now. She found her spine prickling with nerves as they got closer and closer to the edge of town. A few cats saw them pass and she nodded to them like nothing was wrong but she started to worry about how she was going to explain this when she came back.
“It’s alright,” Scorch said softly, her smile in place, “just pretend you’re allowed to be doing what you’re doing and no one will care.”
“I am allowed to be doing what I’m doing,” Mystique frowned.
“Even better,” Scorch purred.
Still, Mystique decided to take the long way out to avoid walking past the training barn. Her stomach was starting to rumble as they ventured out into the tall, field grass. Twilight hung around them and winter’s chill clung to the night air like a stubborn tick. Mystique was grateful for her thick pelt and the lack of wind. She’d never been out to the frontier and she hoped that it wouldn’t be too much farther until Scorch got where she needed to go. They crossed the road, careful and quiet, and shortly came across a strong line of scent markers.
Scorch brightened. “Perfect! I should be able to make it from here.” She turned to smile at Mystique and said, “thank you.”
“Of course,” said Mystique, “but I’m not just gonna leave you here. There could be all sorts of dangerous stuff waiting for you.”
Scorch laughed. “I can assure you I will be just fine, but it’s sweet of you to care.”
“Seriously,” Mystique said, “I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’re safe and happy, okay?”
“Alright,” Scorch raised her brows skeptically and she smirked. “You’ll have to talk to some of the savage wild cats though. Are you sure you’re up for that?” Her tail flicked teasingly and Mystique blushed. Was Scorch flirting with her? Her stomach squirmed with intense discomfort.
“Uh, sure,” she said, looking away. Scorch laughed again. Shaking off her disgust, Mystique started off through the grass.
It wasn’t long after that when a rustling of grass, like a creature moving quickly in her direction, turned Mystique’s head. She rounded towards the thing, puffing up to twice her size and baring her teeth with a furious hiss. Whatever was coming their way definitely had bad intentions and she stepped in front of Scorch to shield her from the threat.
“Wait-!” Scorch started.
A large ginger shape slammed into Mystique, hissing in kind. Claws swiped near her face and she ducked out of the worst of it, barely getting her nose nicked. Her collar jingled as she struck back, paw swatting down with force in an attempt to daze her opponent. She wasn’t the best fighter in the city but she knew how to handle herself and she managed to drive him back with a few heavy blows to the skull. The tom hissed and reared up to headbut her in the chin, causing her teeth to clack painfully together. Luckily, her tongue didn’t get caught between them.
“Stop it!” Scorch cried indignantly, rushing forward.
Mystique fell back to block her from harm, saying, “Stay back!”
A second cat had emerged from the grass, a young brown speckled tom, who cried, “Russetfrond, wait!” The big ginger tabby in front of them glanced over his shoulder at him, then squinted past Mystique to glare at Scorch. Recognition flashed across his face.
“Scorchplume?” he asked aggressively. Despite her confusion, Mystique bristled and stood her ground just in case he tried to lunge again.
“Yes,” Scorch huffed, side stepping her protector. “It’s alright, Mystique is with me.”
“What do you have around your neck?” the younger tom laughed, as if it were a live squirrel or something equally ridiculous.
“A collar,” Scorch sighed dismissively. “One I’m quite eager to have off.”
“What are you doing here?” The ginger tom said warily and the glance at Mystique conveyed the ‘what are you doing with her’ that he didn’t say.
“She helped me escape from the city,” Scorch said. “It’s a very long story that I’d only like to tell once. Can we go find Goldenstar so we can discuss it?” The younger cat looked eagerly at the ginger tom who stared Mystique down with a steely glare. She shot one of her own right back at him.
“What about her?” he asked.
“I’m going where she goes,” Mystique said firmly. “I’m here to make sure she gets where she’s going safely.”
“Uh-huh,” the tom said skeptically.
“She’s fine,” Scorch rolled her eyes. “Look, we’re both very hungry and tired. Can we please just go back to camp?”
The tom growled for a moment then huffed and turned away. “Fine.”
“Thank you,” Scorch cried in exaggerated relief. She started forward confidently and Mystique followed closely beside her, eyes still fixed on the big ginger tabby. He stared ahead, almost like he was refusing to look at her. What a weirdo, she thought.
The younger tom stepped up beside her as they walked and said, “I’m Sparrowpaw, by the way. This is my mentor Russetfrond.” The ginger tom twitched an ear but stayed quiet.
“Mystique,” she said carefully.
Sparrowpaw smiled disarmingly and said, “It’s good to meet you. Thanks for helping Scorchplume.”
“Scorchplume?” she asked, raising one brow to look at her companion.
Scorch waved her tail dismissively. “My Clan name. They all come in two parts like that.”
“Huh,” Mystique said. Interesting.
“What?” Russetfrond glared at her again.
“I just said 'huh',” she pushed back, returning his glare.
“Okay,” he rolled his eyes.
“You got a problem?” she asked.
“Yeah, I do, kittypet,” Russetfrond said, squaring his shoulders.
“Kittypet?” Mystique laughed. “Is that supposed to upset me?”
“Ugh, will you mind your manners?” Scorch rolled her eyes to the heavens. “Mystique is my guest, Russetfrond, can you stop trying to pick a fight with her?”
“Maybe,” Russetfrond said.
“Try me, wild cat,” Mystique smirked. He curled his lip in response and she laughed. His face was more pouty than threatening which was especially comical given his ridiculously exaggerated jowls.
Scorch sighed. “It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?”
UPDATES:
- Scorchplume has returned!
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#Mystique#Scorchplume#Russetfrond#Sparrowpaw#Newleaf#clangenrising
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Month 13 - Newleaf
Life in the wild cat camp moved slowly. Mystique spent the first day talking with their leader, Goldenstar, and Russetfrond, who seemed to be her second in command which was less than ideal. The wild cats had all sorts of questions about Razor and the city and their plans and her intentions and she could understand why but she eventually had to admit that she didn’t have that much to tell them.
“Look, you’re asking the wrong cat,” she had said when pressed about battle plans. “I know how to fight but I’m not like… in charge of training the Chaff or strategizing or anything. Razor keeps all that stuff between him and his friends. I just hang out and do odd jobs now and then, like watching Ginge- I mean, Scorch.”
“Right,” Goldenstar had nodded. “You were asked to keep her from running away, correct?”
Mystique had shifted uncomfortably. “No, I mean… He asked me to keep her safe, that’s all.” She still didn’t feel ready to examine that train of thought too closely.
“Sure,” Russetfrond had huffed in that infuriating way he had a habit of huffing, “and that’s why she wasn’t allowed out of your sight ever.”
“Yes!” Mystique’s tail had lashed back and forth over her back. “Is that so unbelievable?”
“Thank you for answering our questions,” Goldenstar had quickly ended the conversation. “I apologize again for needing to keep you here. Just let your guard know if you need anything.” And they had left her in the empty den. In the days that followed, there were no more questions, although Russetfrond did come by to check in with her guards and glare at her. She entertained herself by poking fun at him. He always took the bait and he always ended up stomping off in a huff after a few minutes. That at least gave her a little satisfaction.
The rest of the time was much duller though. She wasn’t allowed to leave the den except to scat. Her meals were brought to her by the younger cats - apprentices, if she’d heard right - and she was starting to get used to eating mice but she missed her kibble and gravy treats. Sometimes she would try to strike up conversation with the guard, depending on who they were, and sometimes she slept, but for the most part she just watched.
She learned their schedules, picked up on their habits. She had a pretty good sense, in her opinion, of who was friends with who. Scorch seemed to be friends with no one even though Goldenstar and the loud ginger tom seemed to be trying very hard.
One time, she and Scorch made eye contact as she was coming back from a sanitary break with her guard. Scorch had lifted her head with an aloof twitch of her lips but Mystique noted the split second before it where her ears flicked back. If she wasn’t mistaken, the expression was one of guilt.
That puzzled her. Everything about Scorch was puzzling, honestly. It was like she was always performing this gracious, all powerful being but you could catch a glimpse of something underneath if you were looking right. Mystique still wasn’t sure what kind of beast she had glimpsed slithering beneath the surface and when she thought too hard about it she inevitably ended up thinking about Razor and that was where that ended.
She didn’t want to think about Razor right now. Alarms flashed in her head every time she tried. You won’t like it in here! they cried, You don’t want to see the shadow truth! Turn around! She always turned around. Still, there wasn’t much to do but sit and think and it was driving her mad. If she didn’t find something else to do soon, she just knew she was going to ignore the warnings out of sheer boredom so she decided to find a distraction and fast.
One afternoon, when this need for something else gripped her, she looked over at her guard for the day and sized him up. He was smallish and round, with a face almost but not quite flat and black spotted fur. He’d been pleasant with her the other time or two he’d been assigned to watch her. As she stared, he seemed to notice and awkwardly turned his head to look at her.
“Hey, there,” she said, sprawled out near the entrance of the den where he was sitting.
“Um,” he shifted and straightened his posture, “hello.”
“Remind me your name?” she asked.
He smiled with a touch of nerves. “Pantherhaze.”
“Right,” she grinned. The name was familiar now that she heard it again. She jerked her chin up in a nod and said, “Mystique.”
“Right,” he echoed back, trailing the words with a little laugh. She snorted softly. He would be pretty cute if she was into that sort of thing.
She flicked her tail. “So, is there anything interesting to do around here?”
“Oh, um,” he frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not sure… At least, I’m not sure what you could do.”
“Well, what do you do for fun?” asked Mystique.
He shrugged. “Hunt, fish, maybe wrestle? I dunno.”
“We could wrestle,” she tried.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he shifted again.
“Come on,” she pressed, “I’m dying of boredom over here! Indulge me a bit.”
“I don’t think Russetfrond would like that very much,” said Pantherhaze, sounding more like someone who didn’t want to upset a friend than someone who was worried about getting in trouble.
That intrigued her so she pulled at it like a shoelace poking out under the door. “You know him well?”
“Yeah,” Pantherhaze smiled. “We grew up together. Kind of. I was always a few moons ahead of him.”
Mystique rolled onto her side and looked up at him, head tilted upside down. “Was he always such a stiff?”
Pantherhaze blushed. “He just has a lot on his shoulders is all. He’s actually really great when you get to know him.”
“Yeah?” she laughed. “How so?”
“Um,” her guard squirmed slightly under the scrutiny. “When we were apprentices, he challenged the whole group to climb a tree on a dare. He and Goldenstar nearly made it to the top but I got stuck on one of the branches. They came back down for me and he even jumped first to show me it was safe to go down.”
“Aww,” Mystique said, mocking him in a way she considered good natured, “how long were you stuck?”
Pantherhaze’s ears pressed back against his head. “I- That’s not important.”
Mystique laughed, rolling onto her back and stretching her paws out as far as she could. “Aww! I bet it was a while, wasn’t it stumpy?”
“Is the rogue giving you trouble?” Russetfrond’s joyless growl cut in on their pleasant moment. Mystique folded her front paws to her chest so she could get an unobstructed view of him, snorting a little at how silly he looked upside down.
“No, we were just talking,” Pantherhaze said, sounding embarrassed.
“Yeah, we were just talking about what a sweet boy you are,” she said. “Don’t be such a wet blanket.”
Russetfrond curled his lip in disgust at the term. “You kittypets and your strange phrases.”
“Look, you’re the one who’s weird for not knowing what blankets are,” she said, “not me.”
“I’m glad to see you’re as vapid as ever, kittypet,” he droned back, scowling down at her.
“Ooh, ouch,” she winced sarcastically. “You know, your silly little insult doesn’t get better just because you insist on saying it.”
“Hey, guys, let’s not fight,” Pantherhaze meowed gently.
“I’m just having a bit of fun,” Mystique said, rolling back over to sit up.
“Tch,” Russetfrond shook his head. Looking at Pantherhaze, he said, “When Goldenstar gets back from patrol she’ll switch you out, alright?”
“Okay,” said the other warrior. Satisfied, Russetfrond turned and started off towards the prey pile.
“Aw, come back!” Mystique called after him in a playful pout. “Don’t take the fun away! I’m dying in here!”
“Good,” he called back over his shoulder. Mystique snorted, a wide grin spread across her features, but it quickly faded. She sighed heavily and dropped her chin on her forelegs.
“This is worse than being in a cone,” she grumbled.
Pantherhaze’s brows shot up curiously but all he said was, “I’m sure it will be over soon.”
“Oh?” she twitched one ear and looked up at him. “You know something I don’t?”
He stiffened. “No, just trying to be friendly.” She believed him.
“I appreciate it,” she sighed again. “Better than ol’ Bee Face over there.” She watched Russetfrond picking out a meal and noticed him glancing back her way.
“I dunno,” Pantherhaze shrugged. “You seem to like him a lot.”
“I don’t know about a lot,” she rolled her eyes.
“But you do like him?” Pantherhaze chirped.
“I guess,” she conceded. “He reminds me of my brother a bit, but like… grumpier and better tempered at the same time.” She chuckled at the juxtaposition.
“Oh,” Pantherhaze paled, swallowing thickly. “I see.”
“Look, he’s really not so bad,” she said again, a frown forming. “I know he makes himself out to be this big scary guy but he’s just kind of a dick, that’s all.”
“I-if you say so,” Pantherhaze smiled but she could tell he wasn’t convinced. She glowered at her paws. Why was everyone so convinced Razor was some uniquely terrible monster? Everyone she knew liked him fine enough. He was a smart leader, if a bit hot headed, a loyal friend, an attentive partner. She grimaced. Scorch had seemed pretty upset the other night… And there was that time when she cried while explaining how they met…
STOP! STOP! The alarms caught up to her in a frantic, screaming hurry. YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR! THE SHADOW TRUTH IS ALMOST UPON YOU! She shook her head to distance herself from that train of thought immediately. That had been close. Something squirmed in her stomach though, like a shred of the shadow truth had escaped and refused to be ignored. She thought she might be sick. Her body ached to move, to drown the thinking out in adrenaline and physical satisfaction. She briefly considered running circles around the little burrow.
“Hey, Pantherhaze!” Goldenstar’s voice sounded before she appeared from the hill beside the entrance. The lanky white and blue apprentice and the dark bengal she-cat continued past her with poorly disguised stares at Mystique. “I’m here to relieve you.”
“Okay,” he smiled, “Thanks, Goldie.” He jumped up to leave and then, as an afterthought, looked back and said, “Uh, goodbye Mystique.”
“See ya, Stumpy!” she purred, flicking one ear. Goldenstar raised a brow at that and settled down next to her to start grooming her own paws. Mystique watched her for a moment before she sat up and said, “Well, how was the patrol?” like a busybody fishing for gossip.
“Same old, same old,” Goldenstar said. “I hope you’ve been doing alright.”
“Honestly, Goldie- Can I call you Goldie?”
“Sure,” shrugged Goldie.
Mystique smiled. “Honestly, Goldie, I’m about to chew my own legs off. I am so tired of laying around! If you’re not gonna let me go home, can you at least let me go hunting or something?”
“Hmm,” Goldenstar quirked her mouth to the side as she considered the idea. “I dunno…”
“Oh, come on, please?” she said, “I promise I’ll be good!” She pressed her paws together and swiped them in front of her like she did when the Folk asked her to beg, to which Goldenstar’s brows shot up in amusement.
“You sound like Floodpaw,” she laughed.
“Is it working?” Mystique asked, giving her best totally-innocent-I-swear smile.
Goldie groaned a little and said, “Yeah… Alright, I’ll think about the schedules and see if we can make it work.”
“Yes!” Mystique gave a mrrp of triumph. “Thanks, Goldie, you’re the best.”
“I try very hard,” laughed Goldenstar.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#clangen oc#warriors oc#clan gen oc#clangenrising#Mystique#Russetfrond#Pantherhaze#Goldenstar#Newleaf
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Month 9 - Leaffall
Floodpaw stood up to his full height to peer over the grass. “I hope we see a rogue,” he said, straining his eyes to pick up any cats that might be encroaching on their borders. “I want to try out those new fighting tricks we learned.” Beside him, Barleypaw made an anxious noise in her throat and Sparrowpaw frowned.
“You shouldn’t want to get into a fight, Floodpaw. Good warriors hope for peace.”
“Who told you that?” Floodpaw snorted, looking at his brother.
“Russetfrond,” Sparrowpaw lifted his head in a way that made Floodpaw want to smack him. Since when had he been such a golden boy?
“We’re warriors,” he countered, “not Peace-iors.”
“War isn’t glamorous, Floodpaw,” Yarrowshade said, padding up from behind them. “We prepare for war because we have to but we should always try and avoid it when we can.”
“I guess,” Floodpaw grumbled. Having marked the border up ahead, Goldenstar raised her tail to beckon them to join her and Russetfrond.
“Come on,” said Yarrowshade, “we don’t want to get too far from the others.”
“Okay!” Sparrowpaw smiled, bounding after his mentor. Floodpaw rolled his eyes and followed at a more casual pace. Yarrowshade curled his tail over Barleypaw’s back as they went and she leaned against his leg, purring lightly.
She had told Floodpaw how much she liked having Yarrowshade as a mentor but Floodpaw didn’t get it. All they did was hunt all day and he was always being goofy and wrong and stuff. Floodpaw was glad she was happy but even more glad that Yarrowshade wasn’t his mentor. He’d hoped, on their ceremony day, that Russetfrond would be his mentor, and while he still looked up to the big ginger a lot, he had realized that Russetfrond was really strict. Sparrowpaw didn’t mind - he was always talking about how happy he was to check the elders for ticks or clean out the dens - but Floodpaw was again grateful that he didn’t have to put up with so many chores and exercises.
In his opinion, Goldenstar was the best mentor he could have been given. She was smart, funny, and knew a lot about fighting. When they would train together, she was always really good about showing him how to do things without making him feel stupid like Russetfrond sometimes did, and she was a lot more easy going when it came to his chores. Yeah, Floodpaw was pretty sure he was the luckiest cat in the Clan, maybe the world.
The only thing that would make him even luckier is if he got to have a battle with a real live rogue.
“Come on,” Goldenstar said when they approached, “We’ve got a lot of border to cover.”
“Goldenstar,” asked Floodpaw, “do you think we’ll see any rogues today?”
“Let’s hope not,” she laughed, ears pressing back a bit.
“But why though?” he frowned. “Shouldn’t we want to show them they can’t mess with our territory?”
“Sure,” she said, leading the way through the fields of dry, dull grass, “But I’d rather do that with a patrol of warriors than three brand new apprentices.” Floodpaw frowned harder.
“Do you not think I’m a good fighter?” he asked. “I thought you said I had a knack for it.”
“It’s not about knack,” Russetfrond said gruffly, “it’s about experience. No matter how talented you are, a cat with more experience will best you in a fight.”
“You don’t know that,” Floodpaw retorted.
“I do, actually,” Russetfrond growled.
“Trust us, kid,” Goldenstar smiled. “You’ve got a long way to go.” Floodpaw glowered, hunching his shoulders, and stomped along behind them.
“What would we do if we did run into rogues?” Sparrowpaw asked brightly.
“Good question,” said Goldenstar. “Russetfrond, Yarrowshade, and I would handle it while you went back to camp for help.”
“Really?” Floodpaw griped, “Wouldn’t it be better if only one of us went for help and the others stayed to fight?”
“Maybe,” Yarrowshade shrugged, “but it’s more important that all of you stay safe.”
“And even more important that you listen and do what you’re told,” Russetfrond growled, causing Yarrowshade to side eye him. “There’s no time to argue in a fight. You listen to your mentor and that’s that.”
“Ugh,” Floodpaw groaned.
“Watch your tone,” snapped Russetfrond.
Goldenstar flicked her tail and said, “Alright, ease up, Russetfrond.” The warrior grumbled to himself but said nothing else and Floodpaw smirked, raising his head triumphantly. He loved that his mentor could tell anyone to leave him alone and they had to listen.
The rest of the patrol was dull and monotonous. They stopped every few meters to mark the border with their scent and Goldenstar took the time to show them how to know what scents were theirs and which scents belonged to other Clans. At one point, Yarrowshade stopped to show them a ground squirrel burrow. Barleypaw was enthralled by it but Floodpaw just kept hoping a gang of rogues would spring out of the grass and surprise them.
Eventually, they neared the Thunderpath, and the group fell silent, intent on listening and watching for threats. The tension in the air was palpable. It was kind of frightening to Floodpaw to see the adults acting so seriously, but also exciting. Every time they paused to mark a border, one of the adults stood up tall to keep watch on rotation. Floodpaw tried to join them, perking his big ears towards the city, but he was still too small to comfortably see over the grass.
At one point, Russetfrond bent to check a scent marker and his lip curled in a snarl. “Goldie,” he said sharply, “Strangers.” Goldenstar, who had been on watch, glanced at Yarrowshade and he took her place so she could inspect the strange scent. Floodpaw leaned closer to catch a smell of it too. It was acrid and thick, stinging his nose and clinging to the roof of his mouth like an unwelcome guest.
“Eugh,” he muttered, pulling away. Goldenstar trailed the scent a bit, following it back and forth where it crossed the border, before standing up tall, jaw set grimly.
“A few cats,” she said, “They went deeper into the territory.” Lifting her head, she looked after the scent trail with a frown.
“Should we run back to camp?” Barleypaw asked, voice soft with fright. Goldenstar considered it with a thoughtful hum. Floodpaw followed her gaze, marking the angle the trespassers had been going and comparing that to the angle they would have to follow back to camp. If the path followed a straight line, they shouldn’t run into each other.
“Yeah, I think so,” Goldenstar said, glancing between Russetfrond and Yarrowshade. Both toms nodded, resolute in what needed to be done. Floodpaw’s heart sank.
“Go quickly but quietly,” she continued. “Find Nightfrost and follow her instructions.”
“I should go with you guys,” Floodpaw said, stepping forward. “Sparrowpaw and Barleypaw can handle delivering a message by themselves, I’ll help you guys find the-”
“No,” Goldenstar interrupted firmly and Floodpaw recoiled. This was the first time she had outright told him no like that. He didn’t like it.
“There’s no time for arguing,” Russetfrond said again. “Get going.”
“This is important,” added Yarrowshade. “It might not feel like it, but we need you to do this for us.”
Goldenstar nodded, putting on a smile that felt far too condescending. “We’re counting on you three.”
“Come on,” Sparrowpaw grinned determinedly. “Let’s go get Nightfrost!” Barleypaw nodded with a small affirmative grunt. Floodpaw, still staring at Goldenstar, realized there was nothing he could do, and lowered his head with a sigh.
“Fine.”
The three of them took off, slinking through the grass with Sparrowpaw in the lead, winding their way over the hills towards camp. The route was clear and easy and they made good time, but Floodpaw couldn’t help but look back over his shoulder every so often.
He sighed again, absolutely dejected. “I can’t believe they’re gonna fight rogues and we don’t get to be there.”
“I don’t want to be there!” Barleypaw squeaked. “If they think it’s too dangerous we should trust them!”
“You’re just a coward,” he huffed.
“A-am not!” she protested weakly.
“Are too!” he pushed back. “What good are your stupid ‘magic feathers’ if you get scared of everything anyway?”
“Hey!” she cried, clearly hurt, and Floodpaw knew he was going to feel bad later.
“Stop it,” Sparrowpaw glared at him. “A good warrior follows his leader. This is important training. Besides, you’re too mean to Barleypaw.”
“Am not!” Floodpaw hissed.
“You are!” insisted Sparrowpaw. “You shouldn’t be so hard on your Clanmates. We should be helping each other!”
“Exactly!” Floodpaw cried, “That’s why we should be helping Goldenstar instead of running back to camp with our tails between our legs!”
“We are helping!” groaned Sparrowpaw.
“Guys, we’re supposed to be quiet,” whined Barleypaw.
“You’re just scared they’ll find us,” Floodpaw growled. “But not me! I hope they find us! I can’t wait to tear their stupid ears off.”
“What do we have here?” a voice ahead of them and to the east caused all three apprentices to skid to a halt. Floodpaw felt his gut twist in shame. They’d been so busy arguing they hadn’t been paying attention to their surroundings.
Stepping out of the grass was a sable pelted tom with a perfectly notched ear, like Aldertail’s. He had a plethora of scars, especially over his muzzle, including one that ran over one of his dark blue eyes. Behind him, two more cats emerged. The first was a white she-cat with speckled ears and a gloomy look in her crusty green eyes and the second was a thin blue and white she-cat with copper eyes that darted here and there anxiously. Both of them had matching ear notches - city cats.
“I told you I heard something!” chattered the blue one reedily.
“Quiet, Midge!” the tom snapped at her, causing her to shrink back into a trembling ball. Floodpaw felt Barleypaw press tightly against him, shaking herself. He did his best to square his shoulders and look unintimidated.
“They’re kits,” the white one said dully.
“No we’re not!” Floodpaw said, and the tom’s eyes snapped to him in a way that made his stomach squirm like a pinned mouse. Despite that, he continued. “We’re warrior apprentices and we’re not afraid of you!”
“Oh, ho, ho,” the tom chuckled wryly, “they’re warrior apprentices.”
“Ohhh,” the blue one laughed nervously, eyes on the tom.
“Only apprentices?” the white one asked. “So not real warriors then.”
“Maybe,” Floodpaw puffed his chest up, “but we’re still stronger than you are!”
Sparrowpaw shifted worriedly and hissed, “Shut up!” under his breath.
“He’s got spunk!” the tom sneered, starting to circle the apprentices. Barleypaw flattened herself against the ground and Floodpaw stood as tall as he could, turning to face the tom as he went. Meanwhile, Sparrowpaw crouched lowly, watching the other cats while Floodpaw’s back was turned on them. The tom grinned at Floodpaw, tilting his head as he continued, “I wonder what the Folk would think of him?”
“Focus, Van Pelt,” growled the white cat, and his smile turned to a snarling glare in a split second as he turned his gaze on her.
“Watch it, bitch,” he hissed, pelt prickling. “Ghost put me in charge, remember?”
“Ghost?” Sparrowpaw breathed in shock.
The white cat rolled her eyes, unphased, and said, “We’re looking for a cat who came this way a few days ago, a brown spotted tabby with a notched ear.” She gestured to her own ear with a paw.
“Yeah,” the tom said, grinning again, “you kiddies wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?”
“No,” Sparrowpaw said carefully, and Floodpaw nodded in agreement.
“We’ve never seen her in our lives,” he added.
“Really?” The tom circled closer and Floodpaw stumbled over Barleypaw in his attempt to keep turning with him. The tom took the opportunity to lunge forward, teeth snapping, and Barleypaw screamed, Floodpaw toppling over her as he tried to pull backwards. The tom laughed, a harsh and ugly laugh that Floodpaw had never heard before and hoped he never heard again. He hurried to his feet again, dread creeping through his pelt.
“Stop it!” Sparrowpaw cried, his fluffy coat bushing up.
“Stop it,” mocked the tom in a whiny voice. Looking back to his companions, he asked, “Aren’t they just the cutest?”
“They don’t know where she is,” fretted the blue one, “let’s just leave them and move on, ‘kay?”
“I’m inclined to agree,” the white one droned. “We’re wasting our time here.”
“I dunno…” drawled the tom with a shrug, “I think they know more than they’re letting on.” He stepped in to loom over them, back arching aggressively. “Maybe a good swipe or two might jog their memory.”
Floodpaw raised himself up on his tiptoes to be as big as he possibly could, spitting with what he hoped was enough ferocity to give the tom some pause. “Touch us and I’ll tear your ugly pelt off!” he hissed.
The tom shook his head with a sneer, then snapped, “You need to learn some manners, kid!” punctuating the word with a swipe that staggered Floodpaw and left him reeling. A hot droplet of blood started to well up from a small knick in Floodpaw’s cheek. Barleypaw screamed again and the tom rounded on her, snarling, “Quiet! You kits have to learn there are consequences to your actions.”
Fury welled up inside Floodpaw and he shoved himself to his feet. “Leave her alone!” he shouted and leapt at the tom like Goldenstar had taught him. His claws found purchase in the tom’s thick, grimy pelt and he cried out in pain, rearing away. Floodpaw pushed his advantage, lashing out at the rogue with quick, sharp strikes. His blood pounded in his ears as every part of him began to sing with the thrill of battle.
The tom swiped at him a few times, falling back under the torrent of swipes. Distantly, Floodpaw heard the white cat chuckle to herself. The tom snarled at the noise, dug in his heels, and lunged for Floodpaw with his teeth bared. Floodpaw knew he wasn’t fast enough to dodge. Instead, he bunched his muscles and flowed with the movement of the tom’s tackle, using his momentum to flip them both end over end. Twisting and clawing, he yowled, and Sparrowpaw’s eyes lit up.
“Help!” Sparrowpaw cried as loudly as he could. Barleypaw caught on and joined him. “Help! Help!” they wailed.
The white one frowned and stepped forward. “Enough of that,” she said, but neither of them stopped their shouting.
Floodpaw and the tom split apart, panting, and the tom hissed over, “Would you shut those kits up already?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” she snapped back at him. Floodpaw’s tail lashed and he sprang again, catching the tom off guard. Lunging for the throat, he eagerly sank his teeth into the tom, expecting to taste a gush of blood, but found himself holding a fold of loose skin instead. The tom wrapped his paws around Floodpaw and twisted, taking them both to the ground, and sank his own teeth into Floodpaw’s shoulder. Floodpaw yowled in pain and struggled to break free. The pain sobered him up and he felt sudden fear spike through him. Goldenstar had been right. He wasn’t ready.
“Pipe down right now!” growled the white one, “Or else!”
“Tad!” keened the blue one, “Company!” Floodpaw heard it too, the sound of paws pounding in their direction. With a furious yowl, Russetfrond burst from the grass and crashed into the tom pinning Floodpaw. His teeth found the brown cat’s unmarked ear and tore, spattering blood over Floodpaw’s face. The tom rolled away in lieu of holding onto Floodpaw, leaving him free to climb to his paws again. Russetfrond roared, bashing the tom over the head with his heavy paws, beating the slight brown tom back with every blow.
Goldenstar charged out of the grass as well and she and the white she-cat tussled for a moment before breaking apart to glare at each other. Goldenstar’s tail tip twitched threateningly as she bared her teeth at the two female rogues. Yarrowshade followed closely behind, stopping beside Floodpaw to look him over.
“Are you alright?” he asked, licking Floodpaw’s wounded shoulder.
“I’m great,” Floodpaw smiled, pupils blown wide in excitement.
“Yarrowshade!” whimpered Barleypaw, hurrying to hide under her mentor’s belly.
“It’s alright,” he said, “We’ve got you now.”
Russetfrond and the tom broke apart finally and stopped, glaring at each other. The group came to a temporary standstill, silence hanging heavily in the air.
“You are not welcome here!” Goldenstar boomed. “This is RisingClan territory and we will not tolerate an attack like this.”
“I knew there were savages out here,” the tom panted with a manic grin, “but I didn’t expect such a brute.” Russetfrond snarled and edged closer, an unspoken warning.
“Ignore him,” the white cat said, crouching low. “We’re just looking for one of our own who came this way, a spotted tabby named Scrap. If you tell us what you know about her, we’ll be on our way.”
“You’ll be on your way now,” Goldenstar snarled. “Consider yourself lucky I don’t take what’s left of your ears for harming our apprentices.”
“Thank you,” the blue one spoke up. “We’re undeserving of such mercy. We’ll leave right away.” She glanced at the other two, urging them to agree with her eyes. The white one nodded and backed away a bit.
“Yes, thank you for your kindness,” she said guardedly. The tom growled and lashed his tail, casting a spiteful glance at his companions, before he wordlessly stepped away and joined them.
“Don’t let me catch you in our territory again,” hissed Goldenstar.
“You won’t,” the white one promised. Something in the tom’s backward glance gave Floodpaw the feeling that wouldn’t be the case.
Once the group had slunk out of earshot, Goldenstar looked at Russetfrond and said, “Make sure they leave the territory. I’ll send someone to check in with you once we get back to camp.” Russetfrond nodded and headed after them, although not before he gave a sideways glance at Sparrowpaw. The apprentice shrank a bit, looking guilty.
“Come on,” Goldenstar said to the rest of them, “Let’s go back to camp.”
“Are we in trouble?” Barleypaw asked from under Yarrowshade, big ears pinned backwards.
“No,” Goldenstar sighed. “In fact, I owe you all an apology. I put you in danger and that’s my fault.”
“It’s okay,” Sparrowpaw said, shaking his head. “We shouldn’t have been arguing so loud in the first place.”
“Did you see how I fought him?” Floodpaw asked eagerly, moving to keep pace with Goldenstar.
She looked down at him and smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I did. That was very brave of you, Floodpaw.”
“I didn’t start it, y’know,” he said. “He hit me first.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” she said genuinely. “It’s good that you know not to start fights you can’t win.”
“But you guys won,” he grinned, still floating on adrenaline. “That was awesome! You and Russetfrond are so cool!”
“Thanks, kid,” she chuckled. “Now come on, let’s get your dad to look at your shoulder.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warrior cats oc#warriors#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#Floodpaw#Sparrowpaw#Barleypaw#Russetfrond#Goldenstar#Yarrowshade#Van Pelt#Midge#This one was really fun to write. Van Pelt such a bastard and I love him#swear warning#Tadpole#clangenrising
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Month 12 - Leafbare
Leafbare had become increasingly lonely for Yarrowshade. The loss of both Nightfrost and Scorchplume had taken a heavy toll on his social life. He still went hunting with Pantherhaze and Barleypaw but the energy wasn’t there.While Pantherhaze was sweet, and practically his brother, they didn’t have the same back and forth that he had with Scorchplume or Nightfrost and their absence had left a void in him that no one seemed to be able to fill.
Normally he would have gone to Goldenstar for help with that, but she had become increasingly busy managing Floodpaw’s training and keeping up the alliances with the other Clans. Now that Smokyrose had gone back to work, the two of them had started making frequent trips to the other Clans to discuss policy and next moves. Goldenstar had even told him she was planning on introducing them to the system of Soft Oaths and True Oaths she had developed. That seemed like a risky idea to him but she was determined and once she got an idea in her head, it was hard to get it out.
And so Yarrowshade had thrown himself into teaching Barleypaw. She was coming along so well - practically taller than him already and an expert at bird catching. She was maturing too. After the battle, she’d been so ready to fight if it came to it even though she was terrified and he had been so proud of her. He’d also felt incredibly guilty though, him with his bruised ribs and wounded ego, for throwing himself into a fight he hadn’t had a chance of winning. What would have happened to her if he had died there? The thought made him feel sick to his stomach.
He lay awake one morning, stewing over that thought. He had always been happy to focus on hunting instead of fighting, to let cats like Songdust and Russetfrond take charge in battle, but now… He realized that was a luxury he didn’t have anymore. He was tired of losing cats and being helpless to stop it but he did have the power to try and stop someone else from losing him. He rose from his nest, resolved to do something about it.
The day was unseasonably warm and lightly cloudy. Goldenstar and Oddstripe were talking softly near the Stoneperch while Smokyrose tried to detach herself from her kittens at the mouth of the nursery.
“I know, I know,” she said, “but I have to go, my dears.”
“Are you coming back?” Slatekit cried, her big golden eyes wide.
“Yes, of course I will,” Smokyrose soothed, licking the kitten’s forehead and then prying her tail free from her clutches.
“Hey! Hey, mom!” Fogkit said, seemingly having an entirely different conversation, “Guess what!”
“What, Fogkit?” Smokyrose sighed with a smile.
Fogkit bounced up and down on her paws and asked, “If- If you hold your breath too long, will you die?”
“No, sweetheart,” said Smokyrose, “You can’t hold your breath that long, your body won’t let you.”
“Really?” Fogkit squeaked.
“Yes,” nodded Smokyrose, “now I really need to go, but I’m sure Ospreymask or someone can play with you.”
“Okay,” Slatekit whispered. Fogkit was holding her breath but nodded excitedly. Yarrowshade shook his head. Kittens… How did they have so much energy?
Stepping away, Smokyrose joined Goldenstar and Oddstripe, saying, “Alright. Let’s get going.”
“Wait up!” Yarrowshade said, realizing he needed to be quick. “Goldenstar, do you have a moment?” He bounded up to join the three of them.
“Um,” Goldenstar glanced up at the sky and winced. “Maybe. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you had some time to help me with some training,” he said.
Her wince intensified. “I’m sorry, Yare, we’re expected in EarthClan.”
Yarrowshade looked at Oddstripe and frowned. “Is Stormwhisper still missing?”
“Yeah…” the healer frowned, big ears folding back. “And Fishtrick has whitecough.”
“Damn,” Yarrowshade wilted. What kind of healer just went off and didn’t tell anybody? He wondered if perhaps Stormwhisper had died but pushed the thought away. Despite being EarthClan’s current healer, he had once been a formidable warrior. It was unlikely he had been killed by something, or at least Yarrowshade hoped so.
“Besides,” Goldenstar said, “I’m talking with Orangestar about our next moves today. We’ve gotta find a way to stop the rogues from stealing our prey.” She was right. Even though no city cat had been caught over the border since the battle, they still ventured into Clan territory to snag prey and food was only getting scarcer.
Yarrowshade sighed and nodded. “Alright. Good luck, Goldie.”
“Thanks,” she purred, bumping her head against his. “Why don’t you ask Russetfrond for help? I’m sure he’ll be able to handle whatever training you need.”
“Oh,” Yarrowshade swallowed tensely. “I don’t know-” But she was already walking away, Oddstripe and Smokyrose close behind. He sighed again. “Great.”
Behind him, Fogkit suddenly gasped for breath and said, “She’s right! You can’t do it!”
Yarrowshade ate breakfast and watched as Sparrowpaw came out to entertain the kits for a while. Barleypaw eventually joined him and the two began tossing the kittens as high as they could into the air, a game which involved a lot of squealing and shrieking. By the time Russetfrond came out of the warrior’s den, Yarrowshade had withdrawn deeply into his own mind. He frowned as he watched Russetfrond pick out a fish from the prey pile, contemplating whether or not he should even try asking for help.
Russetfrond was a huge grump, the kind of cat who took everything far too seriously. When they were apprentices, Yarrowshade had enjoyed getting on his nerves and pushing the boundaries of his rule following, but as they’d grown up Russetfrond had only gotten angrier with him and it had stopped being fun and started being annoying. He was a strong believer in going with the flow and Russetfrond’s rigid adherence to law and order drove him up a tree. How did Goldenstar expect such a strict curmudgeon to teach him anything?!
Still… He watched Barleypaw playing with the kittens and thought again about what she would do if he died. Reluctantly, he stood and crossed the camp to where Russetfrond was eating. The deputy looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.
“Hey,” Yarrowshade said, then cleared his throat. “I was hoping to do some battle training today and Goldenstar said maybe you could help me.” His pride was writhing inside him but he kept his expression stoic. He couldn’t back out now.
Russetfrond grunted and said, “Sure, I can take Barleypaw out with the others today and-”
“No,” interrupted Yarrowshade. “I meant me.” He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to muster the effort to continue. “I want to be a better fighter.”
“You really should have thought about that while you were an apprentice,” Russetfrond said flippantly.
“Come on, man,” Yarrowshade said, a growl edging into his voice. “We’re only gonna have more and more battles with these rogues. I want to be ready.”
Russetfrond squinted at him for a long moment. “Say please.”
“Ugh, are you serious?” Yarrowshade tossed his head back in frustration.
“Yes,” Russetfrond insisted. “If you want my help, you’ll ask properly.” His eyes narrowed, a challenge. Yarrowshade considered waiting for Goldenstar to get back instead but the idea of her being disappointed in him or pushing herself too far to add helping him onto her long list of responsibilities made his throat feel tight.
Eventually, he sighed and said, “Russetfrond, will you please help me with my battle training?”
Russetfrond grunted and stood, twitching his tail to beckon Yarrowshade to follow him. “Alright. Come on.” Yarrowshade blinked in surprise. He had expected Russetfrond to nitpick his tone or say no anyways just to spite him. He wasn’t about to protest, though, and so he followed Russetfrond out into the fields to a sandy training ground near camp.
“Alright,” Russetfrond said again, turning back to him, “Where did you want to start?”
“Um,” Yarrowshade hadn’t considered it. “How not to get my tail handed to me by a pair of kittypets I guess?”
Russetfrond scowled. “The first step is to stop underestimating your opponents. These kittypets aren’t pampered weaklings like we used to believe. Many of them are skilled fighters and if you keep pretending you’re above them they’ll beat you every time.”
“Okay, fine,” Yarrowshade rolled his eyes. He didn’t care for the way Russetfrond was treating him like a little kit.
“Pay attention!” Russetfrond said with a frustrated growl. “You asked me for help, okay? If you’re not gonna take this seriously you can leave.”
“I am taking it seriously,” Yarrowshade groaned. “Don’t expect me to be all ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ okay? In case you forgot, I’m older than you.” He huffed a bitter laugh through his nose, tail twitching, and started tearing at the sparse grass with his paws. Why was Russetfrond like this?
“Then act like it already!” Russetfrond snapped. “You make everything into a joke! It’s infuriating.”
“Okay, whatever,” Yarrowshade shook his head. “You just like feeling better than everyone ‘cause your mom was leader.”
“I have a legacy to maintain,” Russetfrond growled, his own tail lashing, “just like Wildstar of old. I have to make my mother proud! You have no idea what that’s like!”
Yarrowshade grit his teeth furiously. As a kitten, he had been found wandering through the territory, starving and confused as to why his mother had abandoned him out in the grass.
The Clan had taken him in, filled his belly, and treated his fever. They had given him a place to call his own and he had tried his hardest to make them proud, to make sure they never regretted their decision to welcome him in. For Russetfrond to insinuate that he didn’t have anyone to make proud filled him up with rage and indignation.
“You badger-whelp!” he snarled. “I ought to shred your ears for that.”
“Try it,” Russetfrond dared, arching his back into a battle stance. “You want some combat training? Let’s go.” Yarrowshade laughed. Russetfrond just bared his teeth. With a shock, Yarrowshade realized he was serious.
“Alright,” he laughed again, rolling his shoulders and sinking into a stance of his own. “You asked for it.” The threat was all bravado - he knew he was outmatched - but the urge to get sent back to the healers’ den trying was too strong. Even though he had felt guilty about getting beaten by those kittypets, he had to admit there was something satisfying in the pain, something he deserved.
Giving a yowl, he sprang, claws swiping for Russetfrond’s ears. Russetfrond, to his surprise, lunged up to meet him, crashing his skull up into Yarrowshade’s jaw which caused his teeth to snap down onto his tongue with a jarring ‘clack!’ He hissed, reeling back and spat blood onto the sand.
“You fight like a hunter,” Russetfrond said, still in a battle crouch but not advancing. “You try to get a hit in before your target can notice but that doesn’t work with cats. You have to wear them down or wait for an opening, you can’t just win by being the first to make a hit.”
Yarrowshade grit his teeth in pain and anger. Now Russetfrond was trying to teach him? He sprang again, this time going low to try and snap at his opponent’s neck. His teeth found purchase in Russetfrond’s thick ruff of fur. Pushing forward, he tried to topple Russetfrond onto his back, but the sturdy tom hunkered down and swatted him roughly in the eye.
“Ow!” Yarrowshade cried out, falling backwards to nurse his wound. “Fox-dung, man, that’s not cool!” He groaned and cradled his paws against his eye.
Russetfrond ignored him. “You’re still doing it. Don’t just rush in. Test my defenses for weaknesses first.” Yarrowshade took a deep slow breath to release the pain then slowly lowered his paws, blinking until he could see again. It seemed his eye would be alright, if a little irritated for a while. The moment of pause had already started to leech the anger out of him and, as he took another slow breath, he felt his temper coming back under his control.
Fine, he thought, We’ll try it his way. He lowered himself into a more defensive crouch and started to prowl closer and Russetfrond shifted his posture to account for the change in tactic. Once Yarrowshade felt like he had closed enough distance, he darted in, one paw batting out, then hopped back. Russetfrond followed him with a few strikes which he dodged. He smiled. The tempo of the battle had changed significantly and he liked it.
“Good,” Russetfrond said as they circled each other. “This part of the battle is like stalking the prey. If you forget to do this important step and just go charging in you’re going to lose your catch nine times out of ten.”
“Right,” Yarrowshade said, suddenly understanding. He shifted his posture ever so slightly, keeping his body low to the ground and his limbs close to his body where it was harder to hit them. He was stalking his prey, metaphorically tasting the wind and accounting for the light. He lunged forward with another few swipes and two of them managed to hit Russetfrond in the head. Excitement rising, he pressed his advantage, rearing up to bring more weight down with each strike, but then Russetfrond lunged, tackling him to the ground. He writhed and scrambled and Russetfrond let him go.
“Better, but you still need to have more patience,” Russetfrond said.
Yarrowshade nodded. “Alright. How ‘bout this one?” He attacked again, leaping high into the air with the intent to land on Russetfrond’s head, and his opponent reared up to meet him. They met in a flurry of blows, claws sheathed, until Russetfrond hit him in the gut and he hopped back again to catch his breath.
“Not bad,” Russetfrond smirked, “but maybe don’t announce your attacks next time, yeah?”
Yarrowshade laughed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, shaking out his pelt. “Let’s go again.”
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#Leafbare#Yarrowshade#Russetfrond#clangenrising#Fogpaw#Slatepaw
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