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fallenclan · 6 months

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MORE FUN FACTS

-Queenie, obviously, used to be a loner. She lived in twolegplace, and earned her name not because she had kits of her own, but because she would help out other queens with theirs, bringing them food and water, entertaining them, and protecting them from dogs. She ran to Fallenclan territory when the building she was living under was demolished.

-Sweetclover is the oldest of her sisters (Fernslug and Yellowjay). While the other two are a bit more rambunctious, she always took up the role of the responsible one, making sure that they never got into too much trouble.

-Yellowjay loves to sneak off and explore outside the territories. Once or twice she’s caught the smell of a very familiar outsider…

-Skyfrost is one of the best hunters in the clan, second only to Boulderstep. He can jump straight up into the air and catch a bird as its flying away, which was how he earned his original name, Sky. He’s also a shameless flirt. Anyone is fair game, but his favorite targets are Brambletuft, Lightningtail, Yewberry, Ripplefade, Moo, and Bub.

-Pocket has a hopeless crush on Pinefrost. She knows that he isn’t interested in her like that, though, so she’s never made an attempt to flirt with him.

-Poppyfeather was always extremely outgoing and friendly as a young warrior and apprentice. Since Henryclaw (her father) died, she became more closed off and cold, even aggressive at times. Despite this, she’s an excellent aunt to Cinderstone and Ramstep.

-Gyoza hardly ever talks. Most cats assume he’s unfriendly and antisocial, which isn’t untrue, but Troutspeckle was the first cat to not just become annoyed with him and brush him off. She can read his facial expressions so well that they can have entire conversations without him saying a word.

-Fruitbeam is actually very good friends with Pinefrost. Neither of them are particularly chatty, and they find comfort in simply sitting in each other’s silence.

-When Curly died in the rogue attack, she went down defending the nursery. It was left to her and Moxie, who was at the time protecting Sandykit and Rowankit. Moxie survived.

-Holly was a show cat before joining Fallenclan.

-Rum Tum Tugger was one of the best storytellers in the clan, second only to Henryclaw. Perhaps it was just because he’d seen so much, but for the few moons he spent in Fallenclan, any time he would tell a story, young cats would gather around from every corner of the camp to listen in.

-Ivyleaf never wanted kits. She was mates with a kittypet (Rush), though, and when she found out she was pregnant, he was more than happy to take Otterkit and raise him alone. If it weren’t for the fact that his twolegs then abandoned Rush, and he died on the outskirts of Fallenclan territory, she probably never would have seen Otterslip again.

-Jaggedstripe was a kittypet, when she was born, then became a loner. When she was kidnapped by twolegs, it reminded her how much she had hated that life. She spent every moment she could trying to escape.

-Nick always dreamed of being a clan cat because of all the fighting–he loved battle training, and before he joined Fallenclan he would do it all the time by himself. Once he joined the clan, though, he softened, especially after he had Wormshade, and he found himself not caring about it much anymore.

#these cats were all requested #by dragon anon i believe? dont quote me on that tho #fallenlore

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fallenclan · 18 hours

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Now I bend like a willow, thinking of you

‘Do you want to hear,’ Moxie says, ‘the story of Goldenstar?’

‘Yes, please!’ Mistykit tucks her paws under herself, rests her head on the end of the nest and blinks politely up at Moxie—the silver she-cat purrs, amused.

‘Isn’t he alive still?’ Sleepykit mews. Willowkit pushes him.

‘Shut up! I wanna hear the story.’ She turns her face to Moxie. ‘Please?’

Moxie licks her forehead. ‘Sleepykit, Goldenstar founded this Clan. Aren’t you interested? Willowkit, it’s not nice to tell someone to shut up.’

‘Sorry Sleepykit…’ Willowkit grumbles, and he whisks his stubby tail, pleased.

–

Willowkit can hear yowling. Bluefern curls around her and over her and Willowkit burrows into her mother and tries not to scent the fear emanating from Bluefern’s belly.

‘What’s happening?’ Icekit whimpers. ‘Mama, I’m scared.’

‘It’ll be alright,’ Bluefern says. ‘I’ll protect you. Moxie and I won’t let anything bad happen to you.’

Toro, her silhouette black against the entrance to the nursery, makes a horrible, cut-off gasp, and Willowkit huddles against her mama as cats pour into the camp, claws gleaming against the moonlight.

Bluefern stands over her kits, fur bristling and a snarl on her lips, but it’s no use.

Willowkit squeezes her eyes tightly shut and tries to camouflage with the nest.

–

‘Goldenstar was a kittypet’s kit. His mama was called Hera. He had two siblings, Nola and Cinnamon. Just like you, Mistykit.’

‘Not just like me!’ Mistykit hisses, her polite demeanor falling. ‘I had five siblings!’

Moxie blinks, as though trying to hold back tears.

‘I know, lovely. Maybe Goldenstar had five as well.’ She pulls Mistykit close with one paw and licks the top of her head, and Willowkit stumbles closer as well, trying to get Moxie to notice her.

–

Willowkit holds her breath, jumping from paw to paw nervously. Who would Goldenstar pick as her mentor? Someone nice, like Hailcrash? Or someone grumpy and mean like Wormshade?

Sleepypaw blinks reassuringly at her from where he’s standing next to Newtscar. Willowkit takes a deep breath, sneaks a glance at Mistykit–paw! Mistypaw doesn’t seem like she cares at all! She’s too busy staring up in awe at Blizzardfang.

Wait! What if she gets Crowflame? He seems scary, but he was always nice to them…

‘Willowkit,’ Goldenstar says gently. ‘Step forward. You are now six moons old, and it is time you were apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Willowpaw. Your mentor will be Henryclaw. I trust he will pass down all he knows to you.’

Henryclaw gapes at him. Goldenstar smiles slightly. Willowpaw starts hopping from paw to paw again.

‘Henryclaw, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have shown yourself to be wise and insightful, and I expect you pass this onto Willowpaw.’

Willowpaw stretches up to touch noses with the grey tom. He grins at her.

‘You’ll do great.’

–

‘But when Goldenstar wasn’t much older than you, he got separated from his mother and siblings. Seeing as he couldn’t track them down, he wandered around lost for a while.’

Moxie tugs them all closer with her tail, and Willowkit watches Rowankit roll over and over until she’s pressed against her mother’s side.

‘He finally ended up in the mountains. And there, he met Scorchstar.’

–

Willowpaw follows Henryclaw up the summit of the mountain, trying her best not to pant. She doesn’t want him to think her weak.

But he stops with a playful huff.

‘Willowpaw, what can you see?’

‘… A forest.’

‘In the forest?’

‘… Leaves?’

He purrs. ‘What else?’

‘Twigs. Trees. Rocks?’ She looks sidelong at him, trying to work out what the right answer is.

Henryclaw curls his tail, delighted. ‘Yes. What can you smell?’

Willowpaw takes a massive sniff of the cold mountain air.

‘Moss. I think that’s mouse? Birds – Oh! I can smell Mama!’

Henryclaw pokes her with his tail. ‘How long ago do you think she was here?’

‘A while ago… because her scent is stale?’

‘Good. Could you follow her track? I’ll be behind you the whole time. Or… we could see who can find her first.’

Willowpaw’s tail shoots up. ‘Yes! Loser has to clean out the elder’s den!’

He laughs from his chest. ‘Go on then. I’ll give you a headstart.’

–

‘This could have been the end of Goldenstar, if he weren’t so lucky as to run into Scorchstar just as the sun was setting. A badger could have snapped’ and she lunges at Mistykit, rolling her over –’at him, or maybe a fox might have’ Moxie grabs Willowkit by the scruff, and drags her along the ground as she giggles, ‘dragged him away, or perhaps a dog might have grabbed him and taken him home to its twoleg,’ Moxie wraps Rowankit in her tail, ‘but they didn’t. Scorchstar found him instead.’

Sleepykit droops slightly.

‘She brought him home to FallenClan, and she asked him if he’d like to stay. Goldenstar thought of the badgers and the foxes and the dogs, and said yes.’

–

Willowpaw flattens herself to the ground, trying desperately to keep her tail still. The blackbird caws and hops forward a few steps.

Willowpaw takes a careful step towards it, checking to ensure that she wouldn’t land on any twigs, and tries to surrepitiously glance around for Henryclaw.

She rolls a stone beneath her paw. Carefully, just like Windripple in The Witch Hare, she tosses a pawful of stones to the other side of the clearing, where they rustle the grass as they fall. The bird turns its head, ruffling its wings for flight.

Willowpaw stalks closer, closer. As the bird stretches out its wings, she pounces, cracking its neck with a satisfying crunch.

‘Was that good enough for you?’ Willowpaw calls out, tail whisking into the air.

Henryclaw drops from a nearby tree, his tail high.

‘Yes.’ As they turn to go, he twitches his ear. ‘Was that manoeuvre from The Witch Hare?’

‘…Maybe so.’

–

‘There were only three in FallenClan then. Scorchstar, her mate Nettlestem, Wildfang, and Oaktuft. But they welcomed little Goldenstar as if he were their own kitten. And not even a moon later, Sunwish joined the Clan. ’

‘So is that it? Is that the end of the story?’ Sleepykit says, amber eyes wide.

‘He’s not even leader yet, dummy!’ Willowkit yelps. He growls, stubby tail lashing. Moxie purrs soothingly.

‘Willowkit, that isn’t very nice. If you can’t listen quietly you can’t listen at all. Sleepykit, it’s not the end of the story. Let me finish.’ They lie begrudgingly against Moxie’s side, glaring at each other, as she continues.

‘Maybe Scorchstar saw something leader-like in little Goldenstar, for she mentored him herself. He was a good, willing pupil, and he took everything she said to heart. He learned fast, and before long he was a warrior.’

–

‘I, Goldenstar, leader of FallenClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn.’

‘Henryclaw, has Willowpaw learned the skills of a warrior? Does she understand the importance of the warrior code?’

‘She does.’ Henryclaw’s eyes are welling with pride and Willowpaw has to turn her gaze away.

‘Willowpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?’

Willowpaw feels her heart rise in her chest. ‘I do.’

‘Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Willowpaw, from this day onwards, you will be known as Willowsplash. StarClan honors your playful nature and your skill in telling stories, and we welcome you as a full warrior of FallenClan.’

He jumps from the rock and rests his muzzle on her head. She licked his shoulder, listening to her Clan call her name. She raises her head and joins in. StarClan, she wishes Moxie were here.

‘Sleepycloud! Mistyfish! Rowanleaf! Willowsplash!’

–

‘When Goldenstar was just a few months into his apprenticeship, another cat, just 5 moons older than him, joined the Clan. Her name was Morningpaw.’

–

Sleepycloud blinks earnestly at them all. ‘Isn’t Ivybounce the prettiest cat you’ve ever seen?’

‘Not really.’ Mistyfish offers. Sleepycloud rolls his eyes.

‘Just because you’ve got no taste–’

‘Go talk to her!’ Willowsplash offers. ‘I’ll tell your future kits this story.’

‘Fuck off,’ Sleepycloud says, but he’s already rising to his paws and trailing up to the ginger and white molly.

Ten moons later, and Ivybounce is expecting their kits.

Willowsplash loves being right.

–

‘Even though Goldenstar loved Morningbloom, he couldn’t muster the strength to tell her, especially after she broke her back.’

‘Why not?’ Rowankit volunteers.

‘He was scared that if he told her, she’d die before they could do anything about it.’

–

Mistyfish coughs wetly. Silverbelly hovers between them, before stepping out of the way with her head low.

‘Don’t get too close. Greencough is very contagious.’

Bluefern clenches her jaw. Willowsplash rests her head on her mother’s shoulder, trying not to sob.

She is doomed to lose all of them.

Mistyfish blinks up at them.

‘Mama,’ she whispers, her voice scratchy. ‘Do you remember the stories you used to tell me in the nursery?’

‘I… Of course, Misty. Do you want me to tell you one?’

Mistyfish nods. She tucks her paws under herself, rests her head on the end of the nest. She blinks up at Bluefern unevenly.

‘Which one?’

‘The Witch Hare,’ Mistyfish whispers, and the five cats huddled silently in the medicine den listen to the tears in Bluefern’s voice and try not to think about how Silverbelly said this was the end.

–

‘Did Morningbloom die?’ Mistykit says, her voice trembling. ‘Is that why she isn’t in the Clan anymore?’

Moxie nuzzles Mistykit.

‘She didn’t die then. She healed perfectly, and Goldenstar was so relieved that he confessed to her immediately.’ She tugs the kits a little closer. ‘She reciprocated, and they became mates.’

–

‘Hi.’

Willowsplash opens one eye, rolling over on the rock. The sun had been especially nice thus far, and now a cat was blocking her light. He was angular and tall, and he stood like he knew what to do with all his limbs, like he was confident in the space he took up. His eyes sparkled as he looked at her. ‘Who are you?’

‘My name is Bub. Can I join your Clan?’

‘You’d have to ask our leader, Golden– His name is Maplestar.’ He sits beside her, curls his tail around his paws. Willowsplash looked at him out of the corner of her eye. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Waiting for you. You don’t seem quite ready to leave yet.’

‘Hm.’ She flicked her tail. ‘You said your name was Bub?’

‘Indeed.’ He curled his tail against his side. Willowsplash couldn’t help a smile.

‘What do you do, Bub?’

‘All sorts. I used to run with a couple of other loners, but I got bored of that. I want some more excitement in my life. More stories to tell.’

Willowsplash hoists herself to her paws, feeling more alive than she had for days.

‘You tell stories? Good ones, right?’

‘I’d like to think so,’ he purrs.

They talk until the moon rises and the sky turns black. Willowsplash wonders if her littermates are watching. She decides she doesn’t care.

–

‘Morningbloom and Goldenstar had kits not long after Goldenstar’s confession. They were very excited. Goldenstar thought it would be a big litter, while Morningbloom thought it would be a small litter. In the end, they were both right. They had three kits.’

‘Like Mama!’ Sleepykit mews.

‘But Morningbloom didn’t survive her kitting. Goldenstar named them. Applebranch, Maplethorn, and Honeygleam.’

All four kittens look up at her with big, horrified eyes.

Moxie rumbles a purr, curls around them. Willowkit lets herself be tumbled and her pelt ruffled as she cuddles against Moxie’s side. ‘It’s alright, lovelies. She’s up there right now, enjoying the vibrant forests and bright lands of StarClan.’

‘Didn’t Goldenstar miss her?’ Willowkit whispers. She can’t imagine if she’d never known Bluefern.

‘Of course he did!’ Moxie cries. ‘But she died long before you were born. He’ll always love her, but he has a life here.’

Willowkit pauses. ‘Was Applebranch a cute kit?’

Moxie purrs. ‘I’d like to think so. I never saw her as a kit. But you know who was the cutest kitten?’

‘Who?’

‘Your mama Newtscar.’

–

Bub trots into camp, tail high. For a moment, Willowsplash is so pleased to see her mate (her mate, over a year later and she can still call him hers) that she doesn’t notice the bundle he’s carrying in his jaws.

‘Willowsplash,’ he purrs. ‘I found a kit.’

‘You – what?’

‘Oh, Willowsplash, look at him. This is our only chance to be parents, Willow. And I’ve already named him…’

She looks at him. Bub is right, this is their only real chance to be parents. The kitten is small. He is fluffy and golden and he has piercing yellow and blue eyes. He opens his mouth to mew and she realises he is loud.

‘Alright.’ She steps closer to Bub and twines her tail with his.

‘Thank you!’ He purrs. ‘Look, Sunnykit! This is your mama!’

The kitten topples over backwards trying to look at them.

Luckily for Willowsplash, two moons later she can bring back Sunnykit’s sister and repeat the whole rigmarole.

Petalkit and Sunnykit are beside themselves at being reunited, and Willowsplash can settle into Bub and watch their kits play.

One day they will be Petalslip and Sunnytuft, and she will love them with all the ferocity and strength of Bluefern telling nursery stories to her dying kit.

–

‘After Scorchstar was killed by dogs, Goldenstar led the Clan into a new age of prosperity.’ Moxie says. ‘He’s much kinder to outsiders than she was. That’s how we came to be so big.’

‘Cool,’ Sleepykit breathes. Then he turns to Rowankit. ‘Let’s go play Goldenstar!’

She chases him out of the nursery. Mistykit dithers for a moment, and then runs after them, yowling “wait for me!”

Moxie watches them with a purr.

‘Not following them out, Willowkit?’

‘No… Moxie, can I tell you a story?’

‘You can tell me anything. What’s your story about?’

‘The Witch Hare. Henryclaw taught it to me the other day.’

Moxie tucks her paws under herself, and rests her head on the edge of her nest. ‘Go on, then.’

–

So many cats have left Willowsplash now.

Her mothers, her brother – StarClan, so many brothers, even Moxie is gone now.

Her younger relatives, the children of so many dead siblings, don’t quite look her in the eye.

But Bub is here

Sunnytuft and Petalslip are growing up, and her litter-brother’s kits are adults with their own set of problems.

Generations stretch out before her. The deafness was a mercy, really. Bub knows she can’t stand the sound of dogs barking, or cats calling too loudly. When she started to lose her hearing they started to develop a language of ears and whiskers and tails.

Maybe she can’t tell them stories of Goldenstar and Maplestar and Cherrystar with her voice as well anymore.

But she’ll tell them everything with her paws.

(beetle note: AUHGHHHH THIS IS SO GOOD.... had me rolling on the floor weeping and crying i love it so much <333 the little bits of character added to everyone, the background relationships, the exploration of willowsplash,,, such an underrated character, you did her fantastically)

#submission #fallenfic #featherfrond

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fallenclan · 3 months

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Henryclaw's death.

A fic by @fionajames

Brambletuft was awoken by a loud shriek that made her jolt up and out of her nest. The other warriors in the den did the same, rushing out into the camp with their claws unsheathed. When Brambletuft managed to get out of the den - nerves mixed with adrenaline pulsing through her body - she instantly spotted the cats crowding around something.

“What’s going on?” She whispered to the nearest cat - Troutspeckle. The older she-cat turned to her, a shattered expression on her face. Brambletuft’s blood seemed to freeze as she studied the she-cat’s face, searching for an answer. But she could see clearly; this pity was directed at her.

The she-cat dashed forward quickly, pushing through the cats as her breathing turned erratic. When she reached the centre, Brambletuft froze. Laying on the floor was the body of a familiar grey tom. “Henryclaw,” Brambletuft choked out breathlessly. A wail ripped through the camp and only later would the grief-stricken she-cat realise it had been hers. Curled up next to the body of her father was Poppyfeather, tears staining her fur. “What happened?!”

Fernslug - who was stood closest to the mourning sisters - bowed her head. “I’m so sorry, we found him near the AntlerClan border.”

A flash of emotion shot through Brambletuft’s body as she collapsed beside Henryclaw’s body. Tears were uncontrollable spilling from her eyes, landing in the grey fur. She buried her nose in his side, breathing in his scent. Her breathing was erratic, her vision was blurry, the world sounded muffled around her.

AntlerClan, a voice breathed in her mind, deep and dark. Brambletuft choked out a sob as she listened to the voice. They killed him!

No they didn’t! Brambletuft thought back quickly, alarm shooting through her. Had they?

“Leave them to mourn,” a muffled voice floated in the air. Maplestar’s voice. The crowd around them dispersed as Brambletuft curled up around the lifeless body of her father, feeling Poppyfeather press up to her.

“Why him?” Poppyfeather croaked out and Brambletuft lifted her head. The swirling emotions clouding her thoughts faded a little as she met her sister’s eyes. “Why?” Brambletuft had always acted older than Poppyfeather - protective over the younger. Now, it was evident as she scrambled over to her brother.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she murmured, licking the fur on top of Poppyfeather’s head soothingly. “I’m here, it’s alright.” She repeated the words over and over and over, words of comfort for her brother. Words that she didn’t believe.

Nothing was alright.

Henryclaw was dead.

Their father was dead.

Nothing was alright.

A/N: Hello, Beetle. The fear for the next moon inspired me to write more sad stuff. Have a good day/night!!!!

Beetle notes:

THIS IS SO GOOD YES.... Bramble and Poppy are so important to me

#submission #fallenfic #fionajames #death tw

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fallenclan · 6 months

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// cw • this fic contains discussions of grief, passive suicidal ideation (im probably exaggerating it a lot in the tags tbh but if its a sensitive topic b careful), dissociation, and nongraphic death. please take care of yourselves!! :3

me if cranking out fics of just me smashing characters with the angst hammer 18 consecutive times was a crime 🚔💁‍♀️

Brambletuft doesn't categorize herself as someone with an anger problem.

There are cats like Wormshade and Flyspots, straight up with their anger. If they are angry, they make it known.

There is Maplestar, his quiet fury. You'll never see him angry, it doesn't show as more than irritation, but the way his claws scratch on the floor beneath him, and his eyes hold the smallest hint of disdain. When you know what to look for, you can read him like Silverbelly does the stars.

Poppyfeather is similar; you'll never know how she feels unless she wants you to.

Yewberry is entirely silent in his anger. He doesn't scream, or shout, he endures. He puts his anger to good work.

Otterslip, so unlike his son, was incredibly angry. Grief driven and desparate and begging for vengeance that was never owed. So angry, paws driven by cold hard rage, he killed Stormsight with no remorse for his actions.

Brambletuft is not angry. She appreciates the world, she splashes in puddles and takes care of preserved poppies and lilacs and feathers. Brambletuft is a simple cat, who enjoys simple things.

But she can't say she's happy all the time. That would be a lie. But it's not anger. Anger has never suited her. Honestly, neither has sadness or anything else. She prefers to just ignore her feelings.

She floats.

It happens once, when she's an apprentice and she fails an assessment. Her legs shook themselves still and she floated away from the world.

She very easily decides floating is far superior to feeling, so she does that. She floats during battles, and patrols, and she floats through her ceremony. She only knows her name because her sister repeated it.

Henryclaw never hid who her mother was, not from her and Poppyfeather, at least. A sweet kittypet named Bun. A gorgeous calico, who lived in one of the small houses near the valley. She gave Bramblekit and Poppykit away to keep them safe, and that was that.

It never did stop the distant longing she sometimes felt, when Bluefern would curl into Jaggedstripe, or when she saw a new queen patiently sitting in the nursery.

That affection was something she wanted for herself. It makes her feel upset, and sad. It makes her float.

When she comes back from patrol, camp is in chaos.

It's a cold day for the season. A cool breeze drifts in and out of her ears, making her shiver.

When she'd left that twilight, cats were retiring to their nests. The ones who weren't sleeping or getting ready to were either on watch, about to leave for patrol, or finishing their prey.

There is a small circle of cats in the clearing, gathered around something.

"What's going on?" She asks, shooting a sideway glance to Pinefrost, who shrugs in response.

Then Silverbelly pushes past her, rosemary in her jaws. The clearing smells vaguely of mint and lavender. She recognizes the smells because once Hopepaw dragged her along to collect herbs. The cats part around her, and she hears a commanding yowl over all the noise.

Hailcrash, standing at the center of the fray. "Stars, give Silverbelly and Hopethistle some space to work. Shoo, all of you. You can come back out when we start the vigil."

The vigil?

Brambletuft stands and watches as the cats part. Some stare at her, pitiful expressions painting their faces.

It feels blue. Not the pretty blue, where the sky is bright and the lakes are still. It's the tormentful blue, of dreary blue clouds and pouring rain.

Poppyfeather, she's dully aware, is sobbing.

Why is she sobbing?

And Silverbelly and Hopethistle and Poppyfeather are the only ones standing there now.

She sees the dulled, gray speckled fur. Blood inbetween strands of fur, limbs stiff.

She sits the vigil. But she's not there.

She is hardly aware of Poppyfeather's wails, or her own tears trickling down her face. She can't bring herself to listen to Jaggedstripe's stories, or Applebranch's fond reminiscence.

Henryclaw is gone. Maplestar is exhausted, Hailcrash is grasping at the unwoven seams of the clan that are slowly unraveling, and Silverbelly is still fighting with her grief.

It sounds stupid, but her father is no longer there with her. Why do anything?

"Brambletuft," comes a gentle voice.

The moon shines bright. Normally, she would take a moment to appreciate it, but today she tucks her nose into her tail and squeezes her eyes shut.

"Brambletuft, the gathering is tomorrow. Would you like to go?"

That's Hailcrash, with her careful eyes and her twitching ear.

She shakes her head. No.

Archclan was at the gathering. She didn't want to see a single hair on any of their foxhearted pelts.

Henryclaw had a single wound to the back of his neck. Clearly meant to kill. His body was found near the Archclan border, and it reeked of them even with the rosemary clogging her senses.

"That's fine," Hailcrash says. "Rest, alright? Silverbelly will be here to check on everyone later," on Brambletuft, "and Yewberry is staying behind too. Poppyfeather's here as well. Take it easy."

Brambletuft has been taking it easy for a half moon. She's been floating since she saw the body in the clearing, with long dried blood soaking the rocks and a sharp pang of grief in her heart.

"Brambletuft, Hopethistle wants to see you."

"Tell her 'm busy," she snaps.

"Like, right now," the voice continues. She vaguely categorizes it as male.

Yewberry.

"Tell her I'm watching Waspkit."

"Wrong. Teddyfluff's watching Waspkit," Yewberry says. "Come on. You know how Hopethistle is. Trying to avoid her is like trying to dig through a stone wall. I'll go with you, if you want."

Stop inconveniencing him, her mind says. Yewberry has more important things to do than babysit you because you're sad.

"That's fine, I can go myself," Brambletuft mumbles, pushing herself to her paws. Her throat feels parched, her eyes unfocused and fixed on the ground.

One paw, two paw. One paw, two paw.

She thinks if she loses that rhythm, nothing will make sense. The world already feels jumbled and confusing.

One step, two step.

Yewberry is trailing behind her anyways, half hovering and half trying to give her space.

And then she's at the medicine den. There's a kit (Owlkit, she thinks) laying in a nest way too big for her.

"Brambletuft," Hopethistle greets. "How are you?"

Brambletuft dully blinks at her, silently urging her to make an inference. Based on her matted fur, dull eyes, and sluggish movement, she was obviously not doing well.

"Okay, that's fine. I just wanted to ask you some questions?"

Hopethistle says it like a question. Like she has a choice, because everyone in the room (even Owlkit with her two-moon brain) knows that Brambletuft has no choice in this. Not really.

"Okay."

"Do you want him to stay, or?" Hopethistle glances at Yewberry, who shifts his paws.

"I can go if you-"

"I don't care," Brambletuft says. It comes off a lot meaner than she wants it to, so she reclarifies. "If you have stuff to do, don't waste time with whatever this is."

Yewberry decidedly stays still.

"Okay," Hopethistle says. She looks at a tiny stack of herbs, like she's mentally recounting something. "So. A few questions."

"Yeah, okay."

"Have you been feeling sad, tired, or hopeless recently?"

Brambletuft glares at her with all the will she can muster. "My dad just died and you're asking if I'm sad."

Hopethistle blinks. "So yes?"

Brambletuft, with as much irritance as she can muster, stiffly nods.

"Okay," she continues. "Any feelings of despair? Like life isn't worth living?"

Her tail twitches. "Why am I doing this?"

"I'm sorry," Hopethistle says. And she does look upset, but not upset enough to stop. "I just need a yes or a no. Or a nod. Anything that gives me a solid answer."

Brambletuft blinks. "Repeat the question?"

"Do you ever have thoughts of despair or feelings that life isn't worth living?"

Brambletuft thinks of the weeks she's spent floating in her nest, practically dead to the world. Everything passed by in a blur of bleary sleep, nightmares, and pain.

She looks at her paws, and slowly nods.

Hopethistle's eyes briefly glisten. "Do you intend to act on those feelings?"

Brambletuft couldn't. Poppyfeather needed her, even if they hadn't spoken for a week. She mutely shakes her head.

"Right," Hopethistle says, her voice catching in her throat. "You have off from patrols for another half moon, until I or Silverbelly can talk to you again. Try not to isolate too much, okay?"

Hopethistle, in her own stupid stubborn way, cares. It's why she makes a good medicine cat. It's how she gets even the most prideful, stubborn cats to accept her help. She has an element of ferocity and sharpness to her that she most definitely inherited from her mother.

Brambletuft goes back to her nest, leaving Yewberry to stare at her with some expression she can't quite place.

She wakes up again, for the third time, restless and upset, and instead of trying a different sleeping position, she leaps over sleeping bodies and slips into the tiny hole behind the elder's den.

It's snowing.

Her paws take her across the territory, until she stops at the valley border.

She doesn't want to admit it, but since Henryclaw died, there has been something eating her from the inside.

Not some scary bug, or a bad piece of freshkill. It's something herbs can't fix, and it's something she can't walk off.

It's choking. It wraps around her lungs and it squeezes and it doesn't let go. It makes her throat dry, and her eyes burn, and her fur stand on her spine.

Brambletuft, entirely alone in the night, with a sloppily caught mouse in her paws, stares at them. Blankly.

She is stiffly aware of the cold biting into her, even through her thick fur.

She stands. Not proud or tall as she used to, but grief-stricken and tucked into herself.

"Brambletuft?"

Brambletuft whips around, hackles raised, claws unsheathed. Yewberry walks out, and promptly sits next to her, pointedly avoiding her (dull) claws and her puffed up fur. She probably looks crazy.

"How did you find me?"

"I wanted to follow you after Hopethistle's interrogation," Yewberry begins, "but it looked like you wanted to be left alone. So I waited, then I went on patrol and came back and you were sleeping. And then I kept waking up, and your tail brushed me when you were leaving, so I just decided to follow you. Sorry if that wasn't-"

"No, that's fine," she interrupts. Her heart pounds.

"You sure? If it wasn't, you can just say that."

"No, really. I don't mind. I don't want you to-"

Her lungs clench. Her mouth snaps shut.

Exactly one half moon after her first interrogation, Brambletuft is dragged to Hopethistle and she starts rapid firing questions again.

Brambletuft gives some half-hearted answers. Simple "okay", "no", "yes", the whole thing.

"Does it ever feel like you're living life on autopilot?"

"What?"

"Sorry, bad example. Caught it from a friend. I mean like, does it feel like you're just a cloud, drifting around without really feeling anything?"

"I guess," she answers.

Yewberry pauses. "Want me to what?"

"I don't.. ah..." Brambletuft fumbles with her words. Please, brain, work. Talk to the pretty boy! "I don't want you to leave."

"Okay. Is there anything you want me to do?"

"What?"

"I think you've been having severe dissociative episodes for most of your life. When did you say the first one was?"

"After my first assessment. I think I was, ah, seven moons?"

"Brambletuft, this has been going on for 25 moons and nobody ever figured it out until right now?"

"Just, stay here." Brambletuft pauses. "With me."

I don't want to be alone, passes through her mind. He would understand, talk to him.

The words die in her throat.

Dissociation is a mental process where someone feels a disconnect from their thoughts, feelings, memories or sense of identity.

Wildfang's word, then Sunwish's words. Silverbelly repeats them. Hopethistle repeats them again, with the same long winded definition.

Hopethistle listed symptoms like they were second nature. Knowing her, they probably were.

Some of the symptoms of dissociation include forgetting about certain time periods, events and personal information, feel disconnected from your own body or the world around you.

Brambletuft can't remember anything that happened over a year ago. She doesn't remember a single detail from whatever Poppyfeather was telling her about this morning (Wow she is a horrible sister-)

"I feel like I'm floating," Brambletuft murmurs. It's so late that the moon dips back over the horizon, the sun greedily soaking up every inch of spare dark skies and turning it to bright orange and pink.

"Oh?"

"Like I'm just floating through life, and I've been stuck in the trees so I don't fly off into the sky, but now I'm on the moors instead of in the forest so I'm just flying away."

"Oh," Yewberry softly says. "I don't want you to fly away. Can I be the rock holding you to the ground?"

Brambletuft laughs, the first time she's done so in at least a moon, and rests her head on his shoulder. He immediately tenses when she does so, but he doesn't try to move her (which he could easily do, if she was being honest).

They stay that way, then fall asleep when the sun shines right onto the creek.

"Screaming," Owlpaw says. Brambletuft whips her head around to stare at the apprentice.

Hopethistle called it therapy. Brambletuft called it, with passion, hell. Owlpaw calls it training.

"What?" Owlpaw tilts her head. "It's therapeutic. I always see you. You're so quiet when you're upset. Try being loud about your feelings, and maybe you'll recognize them."

And so, Owlpaw orders her to go to the Cliff, and scream out all her feelings. And yes, she said it in those exact words.

Stars, she's taking orders from a 8 moon old ball of rage. What's next, Salmonkit starts using her for climbing practice?

Brambletuft stands on the cliff. Wind whips at her face, she ignores it.

Yewberry is there, with his quiet support. He even offered to scream with her, if it made her feel better.

She humbly declines his offer.

Bramblepaw is quiet.

Poppypaw is the loud one. She makes enough noise for both of them. Bramblepaw is silent enough to stay behind her. Poppypaw talks to all the other apprentices, telling them elaborate stories of how Goldenstar saved her from eagles.

(It was so badass, she'd exclaimed. Bramblepaw had to admit. Yes, it was badass.)

The choking feeling doesn't go away. It never does.

But, she starts fighting it. She won't let it win. She gets up and she gets on patrol and she tackles a pheasant with Yewberry and brings it back, a Feather kept in her nest as a prize.

She goes to mark the border, and take Salmonpaw on badger rides even if she's a bit too big for them.

She climbs to the top of trees with Yewberry and they talk, and laugh (once they touched noses. Scandalous.)

She goes to the cliff, and she screams herself hoarse. And again, and again, until her throat burns and her face hurts from her mouth being open for so long.

Yewberry, with his not very silent support, bowls her over as soon as they're off the cliff and under a sparse tree, and she laughs and lets him even though she could definitely knock him on his ass if she wanted to.

"I should've been angry sooner," she murmurs.

"I think you deserve to be angry," Yewberry nods. His head finds a familiar place on her shoulder. "No, no wait. You deserve to be angry."

Brambletuft, in all her adrenaline fueled glory, nods, leaping to her paws once again. "I deserve to be angry."

"You deserve to be angry," Yewberry repeats, his eyes bright and happy.

Happy for her.

"I deserve to be angry!" She laughs (cackles. she definitely cackled). She catches her breath, and turns back to Yewberry. "I deserve to be angry. We deserve to be angry."

"Have I ever told you how much I love you when you do this?"

And, all her adrenaline dissapears, in favor of instead making her fur puff out with embarrassment and having her tuck into herself instead, with Yewberry's laughter in the background.

And the thorns constantly wrapped around her lungs seem to loosen.

-🍭 (the horrors (my organs) persist but so do i. )

i jhsut spent an hour and a half writing this HGELP

AUGH MY FUCKING HEART NOOO I LOVE THEM SMM.... crumbled on the floor holding my chest. i love them SO MUCH its unreal this just made me love them even more,, lollipop your writing is so fucking incredible i love it so so much

#fallenasks #fallenfic #lollipop anon

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fallenclan · 5 months

Note

The soothing crack of twigs beneath his paws was the only thing keeping Yewberry from losing his mind. He had no idea what he was hoping to accomplish, storming through the spruce valley like a furious boar. Realistically, Yewberry knew he had probably scared off every piece of prey for at least a kilometer, even though a solo hunting trip had been the lie he'd concocted for his clanmates.

Evidently, that lie had not been good enough for Ivybounce. With a frustrated sigh, Yewberry whirled around, hissing, "I said I wanted to be alone right now, Ivy!" Immediately, he regretted his outburst. Both because Ivybounce wasn't the cat that truly deserved his anger, and because it was Brambletuft who stood several foxlengths behind him, not his sister.

"I was just-just," Brambletuft stammered before taking a deep, calming breath. "I was just out hunting, which is kind of hard to do with you making such a racket."

"Sorry," Yewberry muttered, forcing his fur to lie flat. "I didn't mean to snap at you." Brambletuft's father had died only a few moons ago, too. She probably needed soothing words, not the barely contained fury of some stupid tom. I'm such a mousebrain, Yewberry thought bitterly.

"It's okay." Brambletuft shifted uncomfortably. "I'll go hunt somewhere else."

"You don't have to do that."

"I think I have to." Brambletuft was only just turning to leave when a distance yipping caused Yewberry's pelt to puff up to twice its usual size.

Dogs. "Run!" Yewberry shrieked, feeling a cloud of terror engulf him. I'm going to die, just like Grassroot. Without thinking, he had already begun launching himself up the nearest tree, pads being torn open from the rough bark. It was only when he'd made it to one of the tree's upmost branches that Yewberry paused to think. The yipping had stopped. Had it ever really been there?

A moment later, Brambletuft appeared beside him, eyes wide. "Yewberry? Yewberry, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Yewberry muttered.

"I think that was a coyote. You can hear them during the day in early newleaf, sometimes."

"Oh." Yewberry stared at his paws, feeling a mixture of shame and frustration. "You can go back down. I'm going to stay up here for a few minutes."

"Actually," Brambletuft grimaced. "We're, um, pretty far up. I don't know if I can climb back down."

Yewberry blinked. Shit. She was right. "Why don't we both just wait here, then? Until. . ." Until what?

"We can wait till a patrol passes by," Brambletuft suggested. "There should be someone who can help us both get down."

"That could take hours!"

"I don't mind."

Yewberry glanced at Brambletuft. She was avoiding his gaze. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah."

...

"Do you ever miss Otterslip?" Brambletuft and Yewberry were on camp guard duty. It was a little after midday, and neither cat had said much up until this point.

"Of course not. Otterslip is a murderer," Yewberry replied harshly, feeling an uncomfortable prickling in his chest. Don't think about it, he warned himself.

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"Sor-" Brambletuft blinked. "Ah."

"Why'd you ask?"

"I was thinking about my dad," Brambletuft replied softly. "I miss him a lot. I was just wondering if it's any different, since Otterslip is. . . I don't know, it was a dumb question."

"It wasn't." Yewberry scooted a bit closer to Brambletuft, lowering his voice as if admitting something forbidden to any set of ears but Brambletuft's. "I do miss my da--Otterslip. I miss Otterslip. I miss who I thought he was, I think." Feeling as though he'd said too much, Yewberry quickly asked, "Do you, um, want to talk about Henryclaw?"

"Sure." Yewberry shot Brambletuft an uncertain glance, worried he was passing some unspoken boundary. Rather than looking afronted, Brambletuft only appeared somewhat vacant.

"If you don't want to. . . "

"No, I think talking about him might help."

"All right. I'll listen."

...

"What is it?" Yewberry was inspecting the circular object Brambletuft had presented him with moments before.

"I'm not sure. I found it while I was out walking with Poppyfeather."

"It tastes weird."

"I don't think you're supposed to eat it."

"I wasn't-" Yewberry paused, realizing that Brambletuft had been joking. He let out a startled laugh.

"Do you like it?" Brambletuft was fidgeting slightly.

"Yeah." When Brambletuft didn't have much of a reaction, Yewberry continued, "I really like it. I'm going to put it in my nest." He hated the way his words sounded artificial.

"It might be a bit uncomfortable if you roll on top of it during the night." Brambletuft chuckled. Her laughter made Yewberry feel unusually warm. He was half tempted to say something stupid like, then my first thought waking up will be of you.

Instead, he only hummed, "Oh well. There are worse things to wake up to."

...

"Share?" Yewberry hated the way his voice cracked.

"Well, only if you want to." Brambletuft visibly deflated, a look of mortification passing her face.

"No, I mean--sure." Yewberry tentatively slid into Brambletuft's nest, the turkey feathers he'd gathered for her tickling his stomach as he did so. Yewberry wished he'd have chosen a better gift. Brambletuft's fur was so thick she likely didn't even need the extra warmth in her nest.

"So this is," Brambletuft mumbled, "cozy."

"Yeah." Yewberry was pointedly staring at some invisible speck in the den's corner. He could feel Brambletuft's fur brushing against his own. He almost hoped some cat would burst into the den and interupt this moment. Another selfish part of him wished to remain nestled beside Brambletuft for hours.

"Thanks."

"What?"

"For the feathers."

"Oh. Yeah. It's nothing."

"Nothing." Brambletuft shifted slightly, causing a few feathers to fall out of the nest. "Right."

"Right."

They didn't say much else.

...

"Can I tell you a secret?" Brambletuft's voice was hushed, as if afraid some cat would walk by and overhear.

"Of course." Yewberry's brows furrowed in concern. He was grateful to be a cat Brambletuft thought she could confide in, yet at the same time he couldn't help but worry. What sort of comfort would he be able to offer? He was about as prickly as a cactus.

"Sometimes, I feel so angry I just want to scream."

Yewberry blinked. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but that certainly wasn't it. "What do you have to be angry about? Wait, no, that came out wrong. I mean, why don't you just. . . scream?"

"I wasn't being literal about the screaming part," Brambletuft replied.

"It might be helpful."

"Just. . . yelling?"

"Yeah."

"I guess I could try it."

"Go for it."

"Thanks, Berry."

If Yewberry's heart fluttered at being called 'Berry,' he chose to ignore it.

...

"You like her, don't you?" Ivybounce practically squealed.

"Shut up!" Yewberry hissed quietly. "Maybe. I don't know!"

"You should tell her," Ivybounce insisted.

"What if she rejects me?" Yewberry fretted, beginning to pace. "I'll never be able to look her in the eye ever again."

"Look, you didn't hear this from me, but I heard from Salmonskip who heard from Flyspots who heard from Poppyfeather that Brambletuft has a crush on you."

"Well, all of you should stay out of her business," Yewberry snapped, tail beginning to lash in vexation.

"See?" Ivybounce purred. "You love her!"

"I'm going for a walk," Yewberry huffed, stalking away. He could feel Ivybounce's delighted gaze on his back as he went, doing nothing to cool his nerves.

"Let me know how it goes!"

"Stop."

...

"Yewberry?" Poppyfeather rose a brow skepitcally.

"He's nice to me," Brambletuft murmured.

"If he makes you happy, then he makes me happy too."

"Do you think I should. . . ask him to be my mate?"

"If you really think he's right for you, then you should go for it." Poppyfeather pauses. "And if he does anything stupid, I'll claws his whiskers off."

"Please don't." Brambletuft cringed.

"No promises."

"I love you, Poppy."

"I love you too, Brambles."

...

"I'm happy for you, hon'," Brambletuft purred softly, leaning forward to quickly lap at Cinderstone's head. The she-cat pulled back, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, well, it was a matter of time before she asked me out. She was being really dumb about it, too."

"If Russetflare ever hurts you. . . " Yewberry grumbled.

"She won't, Dad."

"She better not."

"I'm leaving now. Don't be weird." Cinderstone stalked off, heading towards as ecstatic looking Russetflare. Yewberry muttered something under his breath.

"Look how in love they are, Berry," Brambletuft's entire demeanor had become as soft as down-fluff.

"I don't know. Cinderstone looks annoyed."

Ignoring him, Brambletuft asked, "Do you know how I can tell Cinderstone really loves Russetflare?"

"Not really."

"She looks at Russetflare the same way you look at me."

"She does?" Yewberry shuffled his paws, feeling oddly flustered. "In that case, I'm glad Russetflare did the confessing rather than Cinderstone. I would hate to see her embarass herself like I did."

"You didn't embarass yourself!" Brambletuft protested.

"I blurted 'I'm in love with you' and then nearly faceplanted into a tree."

"It was endearing."

"Ugh," Yewberry huffed, but his mood lightened considerably when Brambletuft wrapped her tail around his flank, resting his chin atop his head.

"I'm glad Cinderstone and Ramstep have grown up happy."

"Me too." After a pause: "I'm cold." It was an excuse to have Brambletuft scoot even closer to him, and it worked every time.

Yewberry found that even with the delighted glances Ivybounce kept sneaking him, he didn't mind so long as Brambletuft would always stay by his side.

-🐉 (i feel very uncertain about my characterize of these two, so let me know if they seemed accurate! will be working on something for maplestar next. i wasn't sure where to start for yewberry, so i just did some brambleyew moments bc they're cute)

DRAGON ANON. i am holding you like a squeaky toy . this is so fucking good its unREAL. i actually teared up reading this bit, especially the part where Bramble rested her chin on top of Yew's head and he said he was cold as an excuse to get her closer to him. canon behavior.

#ONE OF THESE DAYS ILL FINISH MY BRAMBLEYEW FIC #but until then. yours <33333 #fallenasks #fallenfic #dragon anon

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fallenclan · 5 months

Note

hello, it is me, here with ANOTHER potential deputy list. essentially i'll list cats i think are viable options and give some reasoning behind my choices. i also tried to account for age when picking

YEWBERRY---the oldest contender on the list. yewberry used to have the insecure trait and currently is ambitious. combining these together, i'm not sure if he'd be a particularly good deputy and (as beetle has stated) he would probably feel stressed being in charge of other cats. HOWEVER, i believe he would want to be deputy. yewberry has a lot of narrative potential for wanting to be deputy, with him seeking to escape otterslip's legacy and "prove" himself. i believe brambletuft and ivybounce would both be with him a lot and offering her support to him, and to a lesser extent, poppyfeather.

POPPYFEATHER---my number one choice. she has the perfect combination of traits: charismatic, vengeful, and eloquent speaker. she would be a cat who'd be great at convincing cats to see her point of view and in general "inspiring" cats. i like to think she has a bit of a grudge against the other clans ever since henryclaw's mysterious death, with the shallowclan war only worsening this. poppyfeather would be a well-respected deputy but also a lot of cats would probably get an "off" vibe from her. her vindictive nature is lesser known to the clan, but she isn't someone you want to cross. going with the lore stating that the deputy picks a successor, i think crowflame would realistically either choose poppyfeather or antbite. poppyfeather is the more experienced of the two, and also would avoid claims of nepotism. anyway. she's the perfect choice imo. not that much older than cherrystar also.

MOOSEFALL---he, along with the previous two, was also on my last deputy contender list. my old points still remain. i think moosefall would be a kind-hearted and compassionate deputy but have trouble with being easily influenced by his family and friends. he could potentially be a bit gullible or swayed too quickly. still, his heart is in the right place and he would always try to do what's best for his clan.

ANTBITE---antbite would be a serious, no-nonsense deputy. he would get things done. lionsong's death has definitely made him even more reserved (if that's even possible) so i doubt he'd be the type of deputy that cats support for his charm/speaking skills, but rather for his orderliness and hardworking attitude. i believe antbite would have trouble thinking outside of the box and would probably get stuck in the same old routines pretty easily. in other words, a lot of younger cats especially would be complaining about him being a killjoy. but he gets the job done! 2nd place choice

SALMONSKIP---she might be chaotic and silly, but i believe that as she's gotten older she's also gotten more mature. she works hard while also knowing how to have fun. cats generally like her and she's good at making everyone feel right at home. she leads with her heart, not her head, which can lead to her making mistakes, but she's always willing to admit when she's wrong (although many consider her to be stubborn, she is actually quite capable of seeing when she has made a mistake---she will never back down on her opinions, though). whilst cherrystar is wise and a lot more careful, salmonskip is a risk-taker. she'd definitely push cherrystar out of her comfort zone (for the better!).

MOSSFROG---the child prodigy, now a mother. i love mossfrog. she's quiet and unassuming but shockingly clever. she's always coming up with ingenius ideas and no cat can dispute that she's brilliant. her social skills might be lacking, but i believe motherhood will soften her somewhat. she doesn't say much, but when she speaks it's always worth listening. she would make an excellent deputy however i do believe the role would cause her a lot of stress, at least at first. i think rustbee and salmonskip's support would help her a lot, though!

BOULDERSTEP---not much to say on this one. food for thought.

RUSSETFLARE---one of my favorite cats, actually. she's a bit of a goofball but i believe she'd make a good deputy. she's very good at influencing others however she always has their best interests at heart. she's open to new ideas and experiences and genuinely loves her clan. russetflare inspires a sense of comradery and warmth everywhere she goes. she might not be the most clever or most talented cat, but she's definitely got a lot of potential - and she has an entire friend group (juniperfoot, sandsnap, myrtleclaw, feathersight, ospreyswipe, cinderstone, ramstep) to back her up!

JUNIPERFOOT---she's cool, she's clever, she's funny. juniperfoot might often be overlooked compared to her siblings, but she also has a lot of potential. as a deputy she'd use her shrewdness to solve problems. i believe she'd be very organized (like antbite) but also open to new ideas and concepts. she'd often look to senior warriors for advice, valueing the unique perspectives of her clanmates. juniperfoot is my 3rd choice (personally she's my 2nd but due to her lack of relationship with crowflame i've bumped her down to 3rd).

there were of course many options, but these are my top picks

tldr; top deputy contenders imo are yewberry, poppyfeather, moosefall, antbite, salmonskip, mossfrog, boulderstep, russetflare, and juniperfoot

-🐉

OOOGH such a good list. big fan of your thoughts on Juniperfoot especially, I hadn't considered choosing her, but she's actually a fantastic choice. the only relationship Crowflame has with her though is a tiiiiny bit of Respect, so in lore I don't see it as very likely, but she's absolutely on my list now

#fallenasks #dragon anon

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fallenclan · 7 months

Note

brambletuft shifted tirelessly in her nest, waiting for sleep to come. she had been waiting endlessly it felt, her mind raced endlessly.

henryclaw was dead.

just the thought of him made her heart ache. when she had heard the news, she couldn’t believe it. there was no way henryclaw just died. he was out for a walk, that was all.

brambletuft curled her claws around the moss beneath her. anterclan. they were the ones who did this, she was sure of it. as she laid there, staring into the sky, brambletuft made a promise to the newest star in the sky.

henryclaw would be avenged.

uhhh a couple little baby headcanons. i’m just kinda obsessed with brambletuft hehe. maybe she feels overlooked by her prettier sister. i don’t really know i just think she’s a cutie.

- 🪼

AHHHH YES!!!! brambletuft poor sweet girl :(( she misses her dad sm

#shes about to fuck antlerclan UP #fallenasks #fallenfic #jellyfish anon #brambletuft

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fallenclan · 7 months

Note

okay but hear me out: yewberry and brambletuft are getting closer, falling in love even. brambletuft has been reserved since her father died, pulling away from other cats, but yewberry has managed to slip past her defenses. they learn to lean on each other and are soon always in each other's company. they've both lost their fathers recently, after all (albeit in different ways).

and then. brambletuft starts acting... off. paranoid, guilty, ashamed? perhaps she's done something or planning to do something. there's two ways this can go:

brambletuft murders someone, sets up some sort of trap, or attempts to kill the cat(s) she believes responsible for henryclaw's death. i can't imagine she'd actually be satisifed with her actions and unlike otterslip, she'd regret what she did. it would tear her apart. she'd start jumping at shadows, waiting for her deeds to catch up to her. maybe anterclan starts demanding answers, maybe somecat in fallenclan figures out what happened. either way, brambletuft is on thin ice---mentally, and with the fact that she could be EXILED or worse if antlerclan demands retribution.

brambletuft doesn't actually do anything, but plans to do something. she might start to try and distance herself from yewberry suddenly or again, begin to act erratically.

either way, yewberry's relationship with brambletuft would be heavily affected. if she kills someone (or tries to), would he ever be able to look at her in the same way? even if she doesn't, the pain of seeing her so shaken/guilt-ridden would have to get to him, ESPECIALLY since she's already been grieving her father.

and then. BAM. it comes out that OTTERSLIP, of all cats has been ""helping"" brambletuft and encouraging her actions. that OTTERSLIP has led brambletuft down this dark path, causing her so much more pain than if she'd just had time to process her grief. that it's OTTERSLIP who, once again, acted selfishly (in yewberry's eyes at least. it's up for debate as to whether otterslip's actions were selfish or purely motivated by a desire to seek justice for his loved ones) and took away someone yewberry loved. because yewberry does love otterslip, but he also can't reconcile a cold-hearted murderer with his kind-hearted father, so to yewberry, his father might as well be dead. at this point, his FATHER and OTTERSLIP are two entirely different entities, despite being the same cat.

so if someone in fallenclan were to kill otterslip, my first choice would 100% be yewberry. in a fit of fury (justice, he'd argue), he murders otterslip, the cat who took away both his father and his friend/love (ironically continuing the cycle of violence scorchstar began so many moons ago). in killing otterslip, yewberry would be becoming just like otterslip himself.

so uh. yewberry as the killer. yes.

alternative choices i think might be interesting narratively:

poppyfeather (to protect brambletuft)

brambletuft (you know why)

maplestar (to protect his clan from otterslip's influence)

applebranch (to protect silverbelly)

hailcrash (to protect someone--ie: otterslip is literally attacking someone so hailcrash steps in to save them. esp sad since he mentored her and they were friends, only for him to kill her brother and attempt to kill her sister, both of whom i presume she is close with?)

moonstep (avenging his brother)

crowflame (to protect the clan, maybe making a name for himself? i feel like he wants adventure but also to be a hero kind of, if that makes sense? i feel like the idea of protecting the clan from someone who is, in his eyes, inherently bad appeals to him. otterslip betrayed fallenclan, therefore he betrayed crowflame too! plus, who's to say otterslip isn't going to try and manipulate antkit? i definitely think crowflame feels maplestar was too lenient with otterslip by letting him walk away, and if the drama with brambletuft comes out this would just be one more reason for crowflame to seek out otterslip and "finish the job.")

anyway sorry for the long ask (i will totally do this again).

-🐉

WAUGH this is so cool. i LOVE the ideas for cats that could kill Otterslip (especially since the one i had in mind was on the list!), they all have such good reasons??? like. i can see almost all of them happening

I just can't imagine Brambletuft killing anyone, shes such a little silly to me u_u she's like an inchworm. all she knows is Leaf and Be Small (she is a large cat). Otterslip could absolutely Try and talk her into murdering someone (Silverbelly, most likely) but i don't think she'd ever go through with it, or even come up with a cohesive plan for it. more likely she'd just become sympathetic towards him and have horrible intrusive thoughts about killing her clanmates. poor girl

i absolutely agree with Yewberry as the killer tho v_v i can see him doing that. my original idea was Moonstep, because he and Stormsight were so close and i think he deserves a girlboss moment, but my mind has moved to Yewberry now. rotating that little motherfucker in my brain. microwave style

#fallenasks #dragon anon

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