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mothdapple · 5 months

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My ideal Squirrelstar nine lives ceremony

I sorta wanted to write out this scene since we didn't get to see it in the books, but I also sorta didn't want to completely commit to writing it since I'm feeling lazy lol. So this is choppier and more unpolished than my usual writing.

I did at least put a decent amount of thought into life attributes which were both appropriate for Squirrelflight (highlighting her strengths or something that she should work on) and thematically appropriate for the cats giving them.

1. Firestar: Love.

The first cat that stepped out of the crowd of spirits had a familiar fiery orange pelt. Squirrelflight purred, feeling like a kit again as she tucked her head under her father’s chin.

“Firestar,” she murmured. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s wonderful to see you too,” Firestar said, pulling his head back.

He blinked down at her, a gentle look in his bright green eyes. “Are you ready for your first life?”

Squirrelflight inhaled deeply, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. “I am.”

Firestar purred. “My daughter, nothing brings me more joy or pride than passing the Clan that was once my ward into your capable paws. Cherish it and love it as I love you, and you love your family in return.” He dipped his head, touching his nose to hers. “I give you this life for love.”

2. Sandstorm: Strength/energy.

A pale ginger figure joined them before Firestar had even stepped back. Squirrelflight purred loudly in greeting as Sandstorm brushed her pelt against hers, purring and twining around her.

“Hi Mom," Squirrelflight said. "I've missed you too."

"Hello, Squirrelflight," Sandstorm said as she pulled away to face her. "You always surprised me when you were a kit, but you continue to defy expectations even now."

Squirrelflight's whiskers twitched in amusement. "And, that's a good thing...?"

Sandstorm arched a brow.

"I suppose that depends on your perspective," she said, lightly teasing. "All I can tell you is my own: by the time I was your age, my bones were tired, and I’d already become an elder. Now I know you’ve always had more energy than me, Squirrelflight— more energy than most cats in fact! But, you’ll need that vigor now more than ever as you become ThunderClan’s leader."

Sandstorm leaned forward to press her muzzle to hers, and Squirrelflight noticed a spark of ferocity in her mother's eyes. "With this life, I give you that strength.”

3. Dustpelt: Mentorship.

Dustpelt strode towards her, his chin held high. Squirrelflight blinked fondly at her old mentor.

"It's also good to see you," she said as he reached her.

Dustpelt just inclined his head in response.

"Squirrelflight," he said, not wasting time on frivolous greetings. “With this life, I give you mentorship. Use it to guide your Clan wisely—” Dustpelt shot her a knowing look, “—even when it’s acting like an unruly apprentice.”

Squirrelflight mrrowed with laughter. She was still purring even as he touched his nose to hers, and the life flooded through her.

4. Feathertail: Perspective.

Squirrelflight purred at the sight of her old friend.

"Feathertail," she said as she reached her. "It's been far too long."

Feathertail blinked at her fondly. "It has, hasn't it? You've accomplished so much since we last saw each other."

Squirrelflight's belly twisted in an old grief.

"But you should have been there to accomplish it too," she murmured.

Feathertail shook her head.

"I've long since come to terms with the lot I had in my life," she said. "At least my death helped you all finish the journey and led to where you are now. Are you ready for your next life?"

Squirrelflight nodded. Feathertail dipped her silver and black striped head to gently touch her nose to Squirrelflight's.

“I give this life for perspective," she said. "It’s easy for Clan cats to see everything from their narrow point-of-view: what’s best for me or for ThunderClan. But you and I have seen more of this world than most during our adventures, and we know it pays to be compassionate, even to those foreign to us. None of us are really so different from each other."

5. Shrewpaw: Foresight.

Squirrelflight purred to see her friend from apprentice-hood approach next. "Hello, Shrewpaw."

Shrewpaw's gaze glinted with amusement as he looked at her.

"I always knew you were going to end up being important one day," he teased. "You're way too bossy, stubborn, and full of yourself to not to."

"Hey!" Squirrelflight said in mock offense. "You better watch yourself! You know, this is the almost-leader of ThunderClan you're talking to."

He tilted his head to the side, a challenge in his expression.

"But you're no true leader without StarClan-given lives, and I'm here with a life for you... so..."

Squirrelflight's eyes narrowed. "Are you holding this life over me?"

Shrewpaw's whiskers quivered in amusement, but he licked his paw in a show of disinterest and drew it over his face. "Maybe."

"You fox-heart," Squirrelflight said, but she wasn't able to swallow back her purrs.

"Mouse-brain," Shrewpaw fired back.

He finally closed the last few tail-lengths of distance between them, his expression growing solemn.

"Are you ready for your next life?" he asked.

Squirrelflight nodded, and Shrewpaw touched his muzzle to hers.

“You and I got into a lot of mischief when we were young with our impulsive, mouse-brained decisions," he said softly. "But, with a whole Clan relying on you, it pays to be thoughtful. I give you this life for foresight.”

His life flowed into her, sweeping her into a vision. Her belly was cramped in hunger as she streaked after a massive bird. There was just one thought in her mind: I need to catch it. I need to catch it.

She was so focused on the bird, she didn't even see the monster coming. One bolt of agony laced through her entire body, and then there was only numbness.

Squirrelflight blinked out of the vision, horror prickling her fur.

I just watched the last moments of Shrewpaw's life.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Shrewpaw shook his head. "Don't be. Just don't repeat my mistakes."

Shrewpaw began to pad away. “Remember to look before you leap, alright?” he added from over his shoulder.

“I’ll do my best,” Squirrelflight murmured.

6. Purdy: Patience.

An old brown tom ambled out of the crowd. The friendly look on his face eased some the pain of the life given by Shrewpaw.

"How are ya feelin'?" Purdy asked, gazing at Squirrelflight in concern.

Squirrelflight cleared her throat.

"I'm hanging in there," she rasped.

Purdy nodded.

"You're more than halfway done!" he encouraged. "Are you ready now for my life?"

Squirrelflight braced herself. "Yes."

Purdy touched his nose to hers.

“With this life, I give you patience.” His eyes twinkled with humor. “It can sometimes be as challenging and frustrating to lead a Clan as it is to guide a group of hot-headed warriors through a twolegplace. But, have patience for ThunderClan during the challenging times.”

7. Dandelionkit and Juniperkit: Wonder.

"Mom! Mom!"

The voices immediately yanked at Squirrelflight's attention. A pair of kits were sprinting towards her. A painful rush of joy and grief flooded through Squirrelflight's body. A purr bursting from her throat, she ran forward to meet them. She rasped her tongue over Dandelionkit's and Juniperkit's faces as they circled around her paws.

"My kits," Squirrelflight purred. "My sweet babies. Oh, I've missed you."

"We missed you too!" Dandelionkit said, burying her face in her belly fur.

"But, we know why you had to go back," Juniperkit said, blinking up at her. "And, now you're going to be ThunderClan's leader!"

"And, we get to give you a life!" Dandelionkit squeaked, bouncing with excitement.

"Are you ready?" Juniperkit asked, his little head tilting to the side.

"Yes, of course," Squirrelflight said softly.

She crouched so Juniperkit and Dandelionkit were able to both press their muzzles to her head.

“We give you a life for wonder. Being a leader won’t always be easy,” Juniperkit said, his young voice filled with a wisdom beyond his moons. “But when things are hard, do not forget the blessings within and around you and our Clanmates.”

Dandelionkit blinked at her, a sparkle in her green eyes. “Instead, try looking at the world from a perspective of a kit, and reminding yourself of all the amazing things out there, be it a juicy mouse or the first blossom of newleaf!”

8. Hollyleaf: Forgiveness.

A shadow slipped from the crowd of starry warriors.

"Hi Squirrelflight," she said in a small voice.

"Hollyleaf," Squirrelflight breathed.

Every hair on her pelt ached as it had with Dandelionkit and Juniperkit. She wanted to rush to Hollyleaf as she'd done with them and cover her face in licks, but Squirrelflight stilled her paws. She didn't know if Hollyleaf would appreciate such a gesture.

There was so much still unresolved between them. The time during which Hollyleaf had returned to ThunderClan after the secret reveal had been so brief, and Squirrelflight's time with her in StarClan after she'd been badly injured had been even shorter. A part of Squirrelflight still didn't know where she stood in the eyes of her adoptive daughter.

But, Hollyleaf seemed to be almost equally as unsure of her, since she hung back instead of approaching right away as the other StarClan cats had.

"I need to ask, because I wasn't sure..." Hollyleaf murmured, shuffling her paws awkwardly. "I mean... Do you want me to be the one who gives your next life?"

"Of course!" Squirrelflight exclaimed, her ears angling back at the implication otherwise.

Hollyleaf dipped her head, staring down at her paws.

“Very well then," she said in a low voice. She breathed in deeply. "With this life, I give you forgiveness. I was hurting in the last few moons I was alive, but the way I acted wasn’t right. It only served to hurt myself, you, and the rest of our family— the cats who I care about the most. Do not do as I did and allow anger and stubbornness to blind you when you feel wronged. Instead forgive, and learn to ask for forgiveness in return.”

Hollyleaf finally lifted her gaze to blink at her, a seasons-old grief and regret swimming in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Squirrelflight inhaled sharply, her chest aching.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she whispered. “I love you so much, Hollyleaf. No matter what, you will always be my daughter.”

A rough purr rumbling in her throat, Hollyleaf finally stepped forward, pressing her face to hers. As they rubbed their cheeks and temples together, the life roared through Squirrelflight like a hurricane.

9. Leafpool: Unshakable Morals.

Finally, a small brown tabby padded out from the crowd. Squirrelflight’s heart swelled with love as she watched her sister approach her.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she murmured.

Leafpool’s face was full of affection as she looked at her, but there was also a steely glint of certainty in her eyes.

“I have too,” Leafpool said. “But my journey was over. Yours, though, is still continuing, and there is so much good left for you do for ThunderClan as its leader.”

Leafpool touched her nose to hers, her amber eyes staring deeply into Squirrelflight’s green. “I give you your final life for unshakable morals. You’re a wonderful cat, Squirrelflight, and an even better sister. You’ve always done what you believe is right, no matter what anyone else thought. Never let anyone or anything corrupt your ability to follow your heart.”

Squirrelflight closed her eyes, drinking in her sister’s blessing eagerly, even though she knew like the others, this life would come with pain.

She was swept into a vision. Flashes of their life together, from kit-hood to apprenticeship, flickered rapidly before Squirrelflight. She saw herself leaving with Brambleclaw on the journey, sadness pressing heavy on Leafpaw. Then she saw them reuniting, joy as brilliant as the sun rushing through Leafpaw. Until finally, from Leafpool’s eyes, she saw her giving three little kits over to Squirrelflight. Pain clawed at Leafpool's heart but alongside it, determination that they were doing the right thing.

In the visions, those kits grew up into noble cats that she was so proud of even now, and Squirrelflight still knew that they had made the right choice. Even after all the turmoil it caused in their lives, even after StarClan themselves had put them on trial for it— she and her sister had done their best with what they knew at the time to give those three innocent, little kits the best lives they could.

As the visions at last faded, Squirrelflight’s eyes opened to see that Leafpool’s muzzle was still pressed to hers.

“I don’t regret a thing,” Leafpool whispered.

Squirrelflight’s purr was thick with emotion as she responded. “Me neither.”

Leafpool purred too, and finally, she stepped back, lifting her chin.

“I hail you by your new name, Squirrelstar! Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of ThunderClan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity.”

Leafpool threw her head back.

“Squirrelstar! Squirrelstar!”

#warrior cats fanfic #warrior cats writing #squirrelflight #hollyleaf #leafpool #firestar #sandstorm #asc thunder #yes Leafpool's life is a not-so-subtle “fuck you” to StarClan

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bonefall · 1 year

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Speckletail's Bulldozer

[Wherein Speckletail gets a much cooler death]

The elders simply being left behind in TNP doesn't sit right with me. Add this with my quest to eliminate as many unceremonious offscreen deaths as possible, and we're going to get extra scenes of (hopefully) memorable battles and incidents.

Speckletail is getting a sendoff in early TNP with a real bang.

(also; most of the scenes I write will likely look like this! As I’ve mentioned, I can’t focus long enough to write full prose. I hope you guys enjoy this format though)

Scene notes

-Before the incident, there is a gentle moment where Speckletail is watching Whitepaw, commenting on how much she's grown

-She looks a lot like Snowkit

-Speckle also notices that Sorreltail and Brackenfur are fond of each other

-Sitting next to Goldenflower and Thornclaw, she mentions how much family she's surrounded by. If only Bramble and Tawny were here.

-Thornclaw: "meemaw do you hear boss music?”

-Cloudtail and his patrol come crashing into camp, shouting that they have to leave NOW, a monster has veered off the Thunderpath and is eating the trees

-CHAOS, the cats are scrambling, screaming, trying to gather up the terrified kits and sick elders. It dawns on Speckletail that there’s no time to run.

-”Thornclaw! To me!“

-Speckle and her grandson bolt out of the camp towards the crashing noises, Thornclaw tries to shout something but she can’t hear him over the roar

-The monster is unlike any she’s ever seen before. It’s a golden monstrosity, larger than life, reeking like death, with a single massive, extended paw that leaves a smooth slug-trail of destruction in its wake. A twoleg is sitting on top of its back.

-Speckletail realizes it’s another type of horrible dog. A twoleg’s bloodthirsty pet, just like the ones they let loose on the forest, just like the one that killed one grandchild and mauled another

-She screeches and barrels towards it, Thornclaw hot on her heels. They leap onto the thick fold of skin stretched over its crawling legs, and leap again at the twoleg riding the beast

-Muffled sounds of Speckletail violence

-As Speckletail earns the PG-13 rating in the foreground, Thornclaw is looking at all the buttons and contraptions, not understanding how it tells the monster where to go. He pushes a big lever with a CLUNK

-The monster reverses course, reeling on its legs, heading right for the old river ravine

-The twoleg yanks Speckletail off, leaping out of the monster and tumbling to safety

-It’s going to go down

-Planting her claws on the seat, turning her back on Thornclaw, she smashes him with a fierce back-paw buck. He’s kicked clean out of the doomed beast

-Thornclaw lands hard on the ground, bruised but safe, rising just in time to see Speckletail’s proud expression, pulled down as the golden monster lurches to the side and crashes down the ravine.

-Thornclaw remembers this death as the bravest thing a warrior has ever done.

-When ThunderClan retrieves her body later, her fur is slicked with the prismatic blood of the monster.

-One person tries to lick her clean (probably Brightheart), but gives up as the foul liquid immediately makes them wretch, spitting the liquid out.

-Mothwing, now a POV character training in ThunderClan because of Mudfur’s early death, remembers this. Especially how Brightheart feels sick a few minutes later.

-Cinderpelt remarks that her fur shines like a rainbow, wonders if that’s what StarClan makes them out of.

-The Clan agrees that to be buried in the blood of such a fierce foe is what she would have wanted. They simply smooth her fur out with their paws, forgoing the usual herbs so she can carry the smell of a vanquished monster to StarClan.

-Whitepaw, terrified, grief-stricken, and looking for comfort, suggests that maybe the twolegs will leave them alone now

-Unfortunately, this is what prompts the twolegs to bring in the cat-catchers. ThunderClan sees it as them trying to take revenge for killing their monster.

-BloodClan will probably explain that the twolegs think they’re acting with kindness, but it doesn’t really matter to the Clan cats that there’s a difference between exterminators and animal rehabbers.

#Speckletail #Speckletail's Bulldozer #Scene #Warrior Cats writing #Bonefall Rewrite #Thornclaw #CW violence #Violence #CW car accident #car accident #Bonefall TNP

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kudossi · 2 years

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held within the line that they have drawn

“This isn’t about powers or no powers,” Hollyleaf hisses, poised and deadly. Her lips are drawn back from her teeth, a growl rippling in her throat. “She’s eight moons old, Lionblaze. You’ll leave her alone or I’ll make you.”

Lionblaze looks almost taken aback, his claws sliding out on stone. “You can’t take me,” he says dangerously. “You have no power.”

“I don’t care,” Hollyleaf snarls. “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care. But do you know what I do care about, Lionblaze?”

The golden tom’s hackles are risen now, making him look a giant, even beside his taller sister. “What, Hollyleaf? The warrior code? The way you tried to abandon us to do this alone?”

“I care about my apprentice,” Hollyleaf says, low as a snake’s hiss. “And as long as I am alive, you will not touch her.”

Lionblaze scoffs, a chuckle rumbling through him. “You want to talk about life? When you tried to throw yourself to your death?”

Dovepaw’s mentor freezes, even her frenzied tail stopping mid-motion. “You’ve no right,” she says. “None at all. You couldn’t care a whisker for me after you found out that I was powerless. I won’t let you do the same to Dovepaw.”

Lionblaze freezes, too, and the two cats stood motionless for a few heartbeats, only the wind ruffling their fur. “You know that’s not true,” the golden tom says, sounding hurt. “We love you, Hollyleaf, just as mu—”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Hollyleaf interrupts him, limbs trembling. “What with you dropping me like a half-rotten rabbit—"

“That’s not fair,” Lionblaze argues. “Dovepaw has the third power. You need to give her to me, to us, so we can save the Clans.”

“I wouldn’t give her up if StarClan themselves came down and told me to,” Hollyleaf says. “No matter what you think of me, she is my apprentice and I know what’s best for her. Back off!”

Lionblaze’s eyes blow wide and then narrow, looking at her with something like shock. “You’d stand in the way of StarClan?” he asks.

Hollyleaf stills from where she’s trying unsuccessfully to block Dovepaw’s view.

Lionblaze looks down at her. Dovepaw shrinks away, and Hollyleaf hisses.

“You’ve really changed, haven’t you, Holly?” Lionblaze asks consideringly. His voice is tight as he takes a few steps forward; his long claws hook into dirt.

“Not as much as you have,” Hollyleaf replies simply.

There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence; it crackles like lightning between two littermates with mismatched destinies.

“Have it your way,” Lionblaze says eventually. “For now.” He spins and stalks toward camp, just out of the edge of their vision. Dovepaw can hear-hear-hear his heavy pawsteps come down, the way his claws haven't retracted, the growl he's hiding under his breath.

Dovepaw folds her ears back as she and Hollyleaf watch him go, Hollyleaf's scent still sad-angry-sad.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Dovepaw whispers once Lionblaze’s tail flicks past them, his thin sides disappearing through the thorn tunnel.

Hollyleaf sags, looking like all the energy’s been pulled out of her at once. “I wanted to,” she says. “You deserve a normal apprenticeship. Lionblaze just has muscle for brains.”

Dovepaw giggles despite herself, feeling her own muscles relax. “What did he mean,” she ventures eventually, “when he said you tried to throw yourself to your death?”

Her mentor stiffens. Dovepaw has half a mind to flinch away, but forces herself to relax. This is Hollyleaf, she reminds herself stubbornly. She’d never hurt me.

The black she-cat makes a sound between a sigh and a sob. “I’ll tell you when you’re older,” she says, voice thick.

"Okay," Dovepaw agrees softly, and presses against her mentor's side.

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oldfacesnewdawnoffical · 1 year

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In the wisest words of @bonefall: “Getting tweaked on purpose is practically the mark of a species' intelligence.” (Found HERE)

So I started looking into ways to get my fictional war kitty cats tweaked! :D

EDIT: If y’all enjoy this research, take a look at my rewrite!! I tend to dip down deep into a lot of various aspects, and end up including a lot of it into the story itself!! ^^

DISCLAIMER: Do not give any of these things to your real life pets to ingest in light of what is described below, especially not without doing research or asking the opinion of an animal healthcare professional. This guide is merely an attempt to share some fun knowledge and additional world building for a FICTIONAL society of cats. You should never try to give your real life animals things described in books or writhing unless they’ve come from people who actively know what they’re doing and have something to prove it.

LIQUIDS

SYRUPS

With the easy access that these cats have to multiple trees, the syrups that they have the ability to make aren’t just limited to maple! Various nut producing trees (walnut, heartnut, butternut, etc) boxelder, alder, birch, and pine (amongst others) are all notable for their sap, which can, of course, be turned into syrup.

Though these sorts of syrups are primarily for flavor. The syrup that these guys would mostly be looking to for some fun times would come from other sources…

Namely valerian root syrup! If catnip can be compared to marijuana, then valerian root specifically might be a bit more like phencyclidine in terms of behavior, or isobutyl nitrite (rush) via chemical effects. It is commonly used in small doses by veterinarians to treat stress and anxiety in animals.

This is probably the only thing on the liquid list that might actually be safe for cats to ingest. But I want to stress again: Do Not give your pets anything from this list; I am NOT an expert in this field.

MEADS

Mead is probably the easiest for these cats to make, should they have any sort of access to honey.

Rather than adding yeast, which can be harmful to cats alongside being quite difficult for them to get their paws on, mead is to be fermented! Natural, less harmful yeast comes from the air (room-temperature water and honey is the ideal for fermentation) or it can be added via fruits or spices.

This is not safe for irl cats, however in small amounts, or fictional feline friends can enjoy some ol’ fermented honey-and-water fun.

CIDERS

Since the cats have used the prefix “Apple-”several times, we can clearly see that they know of apples. Which in turn, I’m sure, means they have access to them.

A natural, non-harmful yeast lives on the surface of apples straight from the stem, and as soon as it’s pressed into juice, it will ferment and become alcoholic on its own when left in a contained space and at a steady temperature.

Depending on the time it’s left to it’s own devices, that will affect the taste.

Keep in mind that all of these liquids are pretty high in both natural sugars, as well as containing sugars purposefully added; excessive sugar isn’t healthy for cats, so should they be able to make these, the danger of overindulgence should be stressed.

HERBS

CATNIP

Also known as Nepeta cataria, catswort/catwort, and catmint, catnip is an herb that is most well-known for its affects on felines.

It is most commonly used as a recreational substance and has been observed to have many different effects on various cats. One-third of cats have been noted to not be affected by catnip, and it seems that the behavior is linked to genes and age, and is usually hereditary.

The herb can improve relaxation, which may reduce anxiety, restlessness, and nervousness, making it a prime option in terms of medicinal uses. For recreational uses, however, it may cause cats to act in a number of different fashions, however the most common are as follows: excessive rubbing, rolling around, pawing, licking, and chewing when exposed solely to the scent, while consumption is followed by sleepiness, anxiety, bursts of energy, drooling, purring, biting, growling or meowing loudly.

MATATABI (Silver Vine)

While catnip is the most well-known, matatabi is reportedly more potent and effective. Silver vine contains more and different compounds that cats like and respond to, and, unlike catnip, silver vine’s effects are nearly immediate and last for a much shorter amount of time.

Also unlike in catnip, matatabi is most effective outright consumed, especially in the forms of sticks! Chewing on matatabi sticks, twigs, and shoots is not only a good way for cats to still feel the effects (which are the same as catnip’s, though with a more prominent lean into relaxation and stress-relief), but also an excellent way to keep up with dental hygiene!

Alongside being a a recreational substance, matatabi also has medicinal uses! It contains a significant amount of vitamin C, and is known to lower high blood pressure and provide relief from arthritis pains. In especially large quantities, its leaves may also have a mildly hallucinogenic effect.

TATARIAN HONEYSUCKLE

Honeysuckle berries, flowers, and leaves are toxic to cats and should not be given to them under any circumstances. It is exclusively the wood part of the plant that is safe, and is most often used via scent sprays and toys.

Unlike catnip and matatabi, tatarian honeysuckle specifically has been reported to not possess the same age effective limits that it’s counterparts have. As such, it is a prime choice to stuff into toys (for our cats in question: at the center of moss balls, inside of fabric toys, stuffed into woven mats, etc), especially for younger cats.

Tartarian honeysuckle also has an extended growing season: producing leaves, flowers and berries very early on during spring, and shutting down only late into the autumnal months. It grows quickly and tall, however it is invasive and can very quickly choke out other plants should it be left to its own devices.

FOODS

MUSHROOMS

Raw mushrooms are difficult for cats to digest, so any mushrooms eaten by this guys should only be done so if they have been thoroughly cooked and softened up.

Psilocybin mushroom specifically can be used for this purpose. Some psychedelic mushrooms can also be used for medicinal purposes via treating some forms of treatment-resistant depression, obsessive compulsive disorder and other mental health disorders.

Most hallucinogenic mushrooms used for recreational purposes are toxic to pets, however. Look HERE for various listings of mushroom poisoning and toxicity, alongside any potential symptoms found in some pets for some of these mushroom poisonings.

SEEDS

Various seeds can be used and are safe in moderation for cats.

Raw, unwashed poppy seeds specifically are some of the most popular - and some we see used even in Warriors canon as medicine! The seeds are most commonly boiled and made into teas that supposedly relieve pain, while other teas are simply used in an attempt to wring out the “high” and relaxation from said poppy seeds.

BERRIES

Mulberries specifically are the only berries I’ve found that are safe for cats to ingest while also providing some sort of recreational reaction.

Ripe fruit is a nice snack for cats on occasion! The hallucinogenics come from unripened berries, mature leaves, and the white sap that they produce.

Unripe fruit may (and probably will) cause stomach discomfort, neurological system hyperactivity, and hallucinations when consumed.

Repeated Disclaimer:

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poppythroat · 4 months

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And upon the rising ruins she stood,

her claws digging into the bones of what was built before, ripped and damaged from the treacherous climb. Blood followed her every footstep, but not her own. The sun scorched the smogged-out sky, demolishing any sign of a once-friendly blue. Truly, the sight was to behold a god amongst catkind, as her caterwaul echoed the dying lands before her… I, her loyal servant, repeated the call, and thousands more cries of mimicry rose from the grounds around her pillar of despair. There was no going back. The world as we had known it was gone, and in its wake stood the face of our new ruler, for the rest of all we would ever know.

#warrior cats oc #xenomoggy #warrior cats writing #xenomoggy oc #warrior cats #xenomoggy writing #random blurb #random inspiration #does this count as poetry or regular prose #idk but i was going for a kind of ozymandias vibe #the first segment came to me like a vision and i had to expand it #lowkey tho this would make a killer story

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butch-lionblaze · 10 hours

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Wc au writing, BlueQuince meeting and a lot of talk on how she loves:

(brief mentions of blood and lots of memories.)

Bluemoon loves in the way of a warrior, the only way she’s ever learned how to. She learned it from a father who was in her life like the passing storm he was, a distant drop of rain to an overpowering force tearing the trees from their roots. She never got her mother’s version of affection besides in the self sacrificing way. Her sister got that piece of her as well.

Her love is of service. A duty. She showed it by wrapping around those who were worthy and never letting anything get in. Or at least trying to not let anything in.

(The horrible feeling of cold crept in under her well made shell and stung. Ice, frost, snow, an impossibly small kit only covered in down succumbing to its greedy teeth. It’s little evergreen tail lost in the endless white winter around them.)

She knew the land that bowed to her step like its endless twisting trunks grew from her own body. An ever stretching expanse of green leaves and brown bark. The rocks under her paws were always the same. The birds singing above were always the same. The swaying shadows were always the same. It all held her like the warm pelt of another. She was alone yet so set in her place out here. She was of the moss and flowers, her blood pulsed and bled out into it all around her.

But the normal sound of her feathered fellow was cut off- and everything was new. Startling so.

(That same chill stabbed through the few unprotected parts of her and she felt herself shiver once again. No snow, no snow, no snow-)

Her legs warped and ran her forward. They didn’t need her brain to instruct their movement, they knew the ground underneath it, they knew to go before she froze to the forest floor. The act made her warmer. Blooming in her with an adrenaline that put her in overdrive.

Bluemoon broke out through a thorn bush, not even feeling its claws dig into her. And she was still hot. No longer from the forced movement that overtook her- no now it was from the anger that made her body bare up to fight. Thistleclaw stood behind his apprentice, the young naive Tigerpaw, instructing the striped kit to attack a scrawny little thing. It was shaking. The vibrations passed through the land and right into her own stiff stuck legs, like how she could sense a mouse hiding in a burrow. She knew the pairing of Thistleclaw with any young one would go bad but this. This was over the line. Sunstar had only done it to try and appease the enraged warrior after he was passed over for deputyship.

She felt herself barrel into Thistleclaw, paws against his back pushing him into the dirt, his grey fur tangling into her drawn claws. But instead she swiped her tongue to stop this- whatever this even was.

“Thistleclaw what do you and your apprentice think you’re doing?” She asked, letting her claws sink into the earth to hold herself in place while she spoke. He turned to her with a heat, his hatred for her boiling up once again. Tigerpaw stepped back and slunk down, suddenly realizing the white warrior was here. That wounded kit was still shaking and frozen in place despite being able to escape now.

Thistleclaw puffed himself up and pushed his voice to be more confident and less outright angry at her intrusion to his ‘training’. “I’m teaching my apprentice to defend his clan.”

“This is not how you train Thistleclaw. Defending borders doesn’t include attacking a lost kitten!”

All he did was give a lick to his chest, as if he was in the right. Tigerpaw still kept himself small. She couldn’t help but soften her expression when it went to him. “This kittypet crossed into our woods, and my apprentice was teaching it a lesson. Do you want more soft bellied pests in Thunderclan’s land? Taking our food when they have enough given to them for nothing? We would starve is all these collared self called cats decided they wanted to try warm blooded food for themselves!”

Bluemoon bristled at the way he spoke like he owned the tabby, and she hissed lowly at how he took this time try and call her weak. “The kittypets know the woods aren’t for them Thistleclaw and thrashing an innocent kit won’t stop the occasional hunting by them-” While she hated it, she steeled herself into a boulder and tried to end this.

“-And I would hate to have to report your bloodlust and bad teaching to Sunstar. If he saw this clear lack of honor he’d be sure to replace you as Tigerpaw’s mentor. Maybe to someone he actually trusts.” Her words hit like a falling branch, knocking his head in and making the grey tabby shrivel. A sneer showed across his previously smug face, that underlying grudge growing again. She knew if he forgot the power she had over him he would’ve thrown himself at her right here. He might’ve done it anyways, if he was entirely sure he could actually defeat her.

Instead of putting himself in a worse place he twisted his head to Tigerpaw and called the apprentice to follow him, slinking away with heavy paw steps.

Bluemoon had to hold herself from grabbing Tigerpaw and not letting him back alone with Thistleclaw. But that would’ve only ended with the two grown warrior fighting. If she saw him like that again though she would be sure to report him to Sunstar. And he knew that.

Finally, as the heat drained from her and into the cooler earth she looked to the injured kit. It was small, and almost all black with one white paw. It’s huge glazed over blue eyes burning a hole through her. That love, her version of it, reared its powerful head and almost took over all of her. She felt herself again in that stuffy nursery, in a nest she never imagined herself back in, with three little paws kneading her belly. That same exhaustion almost made her collapse beside the kit but she wasn’t there. She was here. And it wasn’t hers. Still she loved it despite the sharp part of her sinking its teeth into her and telling her to never get attached again.

She shook it out and drew a tongue over the hits head. Trying to stop its shaking.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” She cooed as she licked away the salty blood that welled from the wounds across the kits face. It would scar. That set the dying embers of anger in her belly back alight. But she tried to keep that away to focus on the current kit in front of her.

Bluemoon didn’t know really what she was supposed to do at this point. It was a kit from a house, the smell of those places mixed in with the milky scent was there, even under its smell of overwhelming fear. It was probably hungry too. And cold.

(The temperature of this mystery kitten made her chest tighten. Her nose was frozen again. It was winter again. It was winter again. The sound of the river distant as the grief stabbed into her gut. She couldn’t save-)

She pulled her head from the frost and tried her best to warm it up. Small and frail against her, almost lost in her longer coat. She could save this one. She could save this. After a bit of curling around the kitten in silence, the warrior pulled her tongue from the place it stuck to in her mouth. As if it would shatter from anything above a whisper, she spoke so soft the wind could’ve easily taken her words away.

“Where’s your home kit?”

It looked up at her. Blue eyes slightly less clouded over. “O’er the fence. One with the bush”. Its voice was small and shaky still, with that kitten talk that made her melt immediately.

“I’ll bring you back kit. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.”

The warrior walked the strange streets and felt so out of place. The ground wasn’t soft or kind or comforting in anyway. It was the most disconnected she’d ever felt. The stronger breezes felt like they could steal the kit from her jaws. She didn’t tighten her hold but she did puff herself up bigger to combat it. Tall branchless trees stood over her and glowed unnaturally. Little stars seemingly trapped in their tough cages illuminating the black paths that carved between the many houses all around. They’d lit up just a little while ago but they still freaked her out. How had twolegs been able to catch the stars themselves? And why put such forces into these strange traps? It was wrong. She imagined her sister’s own spirit stuck in one. That made her stomach twist so bad she’d had to stop and duck into a darker more compact trail to breathe.

Now out of her hold and a little less shaky, the little kit stood and stretched a bit. Though it was slowly and with its eyes watching her the whole time. As if worried she’d snap it in half for stepping wrong. They stayed there for a while to rest. The sound only that of monsters roaming the paths and other strange clanging noises Bluemoon had no idea about.

“Thank you Miss.” the kit said shyly, looking down at its paws with a little bit of a frown as if upset by its own tongue.

“No need for thanks kit. Those cats never should’ve attacked you. I’m sorry they hurt you hon-“ she swallowed the endearing term. She couldn’t get attached.

The kit looked at her again with those eyes. So so blue. She didn’t know if its eyes were just that color or if it was still young enough to have that innocent blue in its eyes. Either version made her angry at Thistleclaw.

It had a thought at the tip of its tongue, possibly worried at what saying it would do but wanting to anyways. Finally the kit gave in and spoke “My names Tiny.”

“Hello then Tiny. I’m Bluemoon.” The name fit the little kit but she couldn’t help but feel like the name was half thought. It’d be tiny forever. She’d of named it something more like Midnight, for its incredibly dark pelt and startling white paw- the fact that slipped into her thoughts made her shiver. Cold again. Always cold. This wasn’t her kit. The sooner she found its nest the sooner she could move on.

“Blue… but you’re not blue.”

Bluemoon couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Her mind moving past at least. “No I am not blue but that’s just what I was named. Moon makes it a little more suiting doesn’t it?”

The kit- no Tiny thought for a bit and then nodded. Still a little confused but not going to question her name. Funny little thing. Though she wondered about how considerate it was of its words. Most kits just said what they thought freely. It reminded her oddly of herself. She hoped this kit wasn’t too much more like her though.

“Tiny do you know the way to your home? I’m pretty lost here.” Bluemoon asked as she stretched, getting ready to start walking again. She wouldn’t like to be here all night, especially not with such a small kitten. It was most definitely hungry by now.

Tiny shook its head slightly but then lifted its eyes back up as if figuring something out. “It’s next to a blue one though. And its fence is brokn.” It said, a long yawn following the little description. Poor thing. But Bluemoon now knew she was looking for a blue house. Well the house next to one but that would be easier to find. The warrior dipped down and scooped up the kit carefully, tucking it closer into her fur so it was slightly more covered as she walked forward.

Bluemoon had found two houses so far but neither had a house next to them with a broken fence. Her paws felt shredded from the rough terrain and her muscles were sore, walking and holding a kitten for so long was really wearing her out. Finally after she climbed up on a roof she saw another blue house. If this wasn’t the one she’d start her way back home.

The building wasn’t far from the woods and she probably would’ve checked it initially if she hadn’t started her searching already farther into the twolegplace. The house looked like most of the rest of them. Plain strange walls. So many objects she had no words for. Before she went up to check around she said a small prayer. And then she walked forward, coming from the front to then climb into the fence to see into it. The yard was like most of the rest as well except bushes lined the back wall. It wasn’t that odd but maybe, just maybe this was the one? Bluemoon did a quick look around before jumping down and luckily only smelled cat here.

Her heart soared as her ears caught the wailing of a cat, an anxious cry that made her know she was in the right place. Carefully the white cat jumped down and set Tiny at her paws. Having heard her the one that was yelling came around, looking almost like she was going to try and chase Bluemoon off herself but switching immediately upon seeing the little kitten.

She was a chubby black molly with warm eyes and odder white markings. She was small in stature but something about her gave Bluemoon the feeling like she could’ve beaten her if she had attacked immediately.

“Oh Tiny! Oh my baby my baby!” She sobbed as she carefully wrapped herself around the kitten, frantically licking warmth into its skin. The mother switched back to defensive when she noticed the new wounds in her kits face. The fur on her back lifted and hackles raised, now launched up to stand over Tiny with the power of a protective mother. Blue backed off and made herself less threatening, which was hard as she was rather tall compared to Tiny’s mom. But before anything happened Tiny moved between them.

“Momma momma momma! It’s okay it’s okay! Blue bought me here. She didn’t hurt me she helped me get back!” Tiny cried, trying its best to look bigger and break through its mom’s anger. Luckily she listened. Tiny’s mother softened slightly but still pulled her kit closer to her again.

The two cats just stared for a second. The distant crickets chirping as if it was a normal night. She only wished it was.

But the black and white molly relaxed more at last and laid down, her head nudging the ground to tell Bluemoon to as well. “Thank you for bringing back my little trouble. I don’t know how to make it up to you. I don’t know what id do with myself if my baby never came home.” She said kindly, blinking gratitude into her gaze. Bluemoon blushed a bit and tucked her paws underneath her fur to be more comfortable looking.

“No problem miss-“ She started to say before the molly cut in.

“No need for any misses. it’s Quince. Any cat who takes care of my babies gets to know my name.” Quince said with a laugh that made her smile with just its sound.

“Well then Quince my names Bluemoon. It was no issue getting it home, I just hope Tiny’ll be okay with the scratches and all.” She finished saying, a smile across her face as she tried to not take too much complimenting. The kit never should’ve been hurt in the first place. Guilt grew in her again. Some amount of it always hurt in her, but she tried to keep it from her pelt.

Quince shook her head harshly “Bluemoon… you’re one of those outside cats aren’t you?” She asked with a little edge of unease in her voice again.

Bluemoon swallowed carefully, trying to figure out what to say exactly. How is she supposed to respond? She is of course but she didn’t know if the fire would leap back her new acquaintance if she said so. But she couldn’t lie.

“Yes ma’am I am. I’m a warrior of Thunderclan-“ She started to say trying to be as careful as she could, still not knowing how she should explain all that happened. “- but I didn’t hurt your kit. Another warrior did and I promise you he will get a punishment for it. Warriors aren’t supposed to attack any cats that can’t defend themselves, and are never ever to harm a kitten. If you’d like I can head back. All I wanted to do was make sure Tiny got to a safe place.”

The cat across from her clearly didn’t know how to respond either. She had started to bristle back up again but the fur laid down as Bluemoon spoke. And she now just watched, eyes searching across her own to see whether she believed her or not. Presumably she wasn’t worth attacking because Quince went back to being more comfortable, that gratitude glowing in her face again. She bit back her own thoughts on that. Better to not show a lot of herself to a stranger. Let alone the things that bother her.

“Well thank you then. I hope he is dealt with however you warriors deal with your own.” Quince passed another lick down Tiny’s face before she got up and took it inside, probably to rest. That kitten needed plenty of sleep after the day it’s had. A want to follow made her twitch but she bit it off again. That’s not her business. She wasn’t Tiny’s mother. For a bit she sat there in the grass waiting to see whether she was to leave or stay. It was darker with the strange light coming from the inside of the home into the yard. But she stayed mostly in the natural light, looking at the moon above her. Finally at last she decided it would be best to leave so she got up and jumped to the top of the fence. She could’ve gone under the bushes and out the broken part but the would involve more noise and scrambling then she wanted.

But as Bluemoon stood ready to make her leave Quince came back out from the house.

“Hey! Don’t leave just yet Blue- not without a final thank you.” The black cat called and Bluemoon immediately turned around. She didn’t know why. A deep part of herself told her to leave. She wasn’t even supposed to speak to kittypet’s in the first place, and now she had wandered through their domain for hours to give back a kitten. But what was a little longer in the end? Shoving it down she jumped back to Quince. She knew if her father were here he’d of grabbed her by the scruff and dragged her back like she was a kitten herself.

She stood in front of Quince who looked at her in a way that made her forget her father entirely.

In the round cat’s maw was a flower, its blue petals stiff but beautiful. It didn’t smell like anything close to other flowers.

“I don’t know if warriors have these sorts of things but it feels wrong to not give a gift for you bringing me back Tiny. It’s just a fake but it’ll never wilt.” Quince had dropped it on the grass and was looking right into her own eyes, and Bluemoon almost felt like she was blessed. The stars blinked above her as if to say, go on, to her. The warrior had never felt so lost for words. And despite only just meeting her she felt the same protectiveness well up and wash over her. She felt like a guardian to Quince and her kits. She felt like her only duty was to her. She was a loyal warrior and yet now she had another to care for. So much took over her that she simply blinked before grabbing the gift that felt more special then anything else in her life. And even though she hadn’t said anything to Quince the cat dipped her head and turned back around to go to her house with its warm light and odd smells.

Bluemoon barely even felt her body as she turned around and leaped over the fence. Didn’t acknowledge as the trees blurred around her and the stray plants brushed against her. She felt the rocks under her paws but she also now felt the cats that were far behind her.

As she made her way back to camp she stopped and sat under a tree she hadn’t visited in a while. One with five stones and beautiful moon flowers around it. Tucking herself in its sheltered scoop of roots, she slept. A new flower tucked right at her chest.

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livereater002 · 9 months

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Warrior Cats Rewrite Tidbit: Rustyclaw’s Regret

Look at me, joining the Warrior cats rewrite club! For some context, this is from Fireheart’s perspective after Tigerclaw was banished, except Fireheart is Rustyclaw and was mentored by Tigerclaw. (if I did this correctly, the writing should be beneath a ‘read more’ thing.) ((also there’s a small mention of blood, but only in the seventh paragraph.))

He stared after the brown tabby tail disappearing into the shrubbery around Thunderstorm Colony camp, ears ringing and chest tight. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. His loyal mentor. His almost-father. Cats stared up at him and Commander Bluefur as they stood stiffly on the Highrock. He couldn’t look back. He just kept staring, kept willing himself to wake up, wake up, wake up already.

But he never awoke. Bluefur’s labored breathing brought him back to real life for a moment, and he turned his gaze to find her already scrutinizing him. The fur along her back started to slowly raise as her unreadable expression bore into him, her lips peeling back. “You always admired him, from the second you arrived in camp.” Her words were shot at him like piercing icicles. He swallowed dryly. “…I did.”

“And you followed him everywhere.” “…Yes, Commander Bluefur.” She took a step towards him, and he instinctively took a step back, closer to the edge of the highrock. He flicked his tail, unable to hide his nerves as she slowly narrowed her eyes, pupils flicking to and fro as she examined him, investigated him, tested him in her mind.

“He took care of you. Respected you. Taught you…everything.” She stepped closer, her claws beginning to unsheathe and scrape the rock. The sound stabbed into his ears, but he forced himself to not flinch away. No sudden movements. No unpredictable actions. Just stare back, hold his ground. “Commander Bluefur, I saved you from Tigercl-“

“Do not speak his name! He is dead in my eyes, dead to the colony, dead to the stars, and he will rot under the dirt we walk on!” She screeched, arching her back and standing tall above him. He finally flinched, tail curling around himself as his claws began to unsheathe. He scooted backwards, hind paw almost slipping as he realized just how close he was to the edge of the rock. The fall wasn’t long, but it was dangerous enough.

He made himself small. “Yes, Commander. I saved you from him. I know you’re…frightened, but I would never do what he did.” Bluefur sneered as she stalked closer, pupils round and wide, showcasing her inner fear to the world. “Do you know what he said to me when I made him deputy?” Her voice was frighteningly quiet. He didn’t respond, but she answered regardless. “He said he’d protect me. Protect the colony. And do you know what he did?” The clearing was silent as the cats below them watched in a mix of fear, anger, and shock.

Bluefur growled when he didn’t meet her gaze. “Do you?!” She leapt forward, pinning him to the ground, fur sticking out in all directions. He gasped quietly as blood from her wounds dripped down onto him, nearly blending in with his orange fur. She stuck a paw underneath his chin and raised his eyes to meet her piercing gaze. Her cold blue eyes stabbed into him, so coldly and so painfully that he almost didn’t feel the real pain of her claws in his neck, pinpricks against his skin.

This must have been what it was like for her. Tigerclaw towering above her, amber eyes and pearly claws tearing into her. Unrelenting, unfeeling, unstoppable. Helpless.

Shakily, he opened his jaws to answer, but she hissed in response to his unspoken words. “Underneath your fur, your skin, your bones, I bet you’re just like him. A monster. A ruthless creature. Forget being a kittypet. You’re a traitor.” With that, she stood up, retracting her claws and stepping away into the depths of her den behind her, leaving him heaving and trembling.

He forced himself to his paws, locking eyes with cats in the crowd. This is what Tigerclaw wanted, wasn’t it? To stand above Thunderstorm Colony and watch the cats, his cats, gather beneath him? Feel the adrenaline of having complete power over them? He could say anything right now. He could try to calm his colony-mate’s nerves, try to raise their spirits, try to seem strong and dependable.

Constellation Colony above, he could say anything to these cats.

He couldn’t move.

It was only after some cat in the crowd called out to him, called out to Rustyclaw, that he unfroze. He gasped, falling back onto his haunches and scrambling up again. Hearing his name made him recoil, made him want to hide in his paws.

“Don’t-“ He gasped. “Don’t call me that. I can’t be- I’m not Tigerclaw!” He heaved with every breath, his heart pounding and chest squeezing until all he could focus on was a mantra of I’m not him, I’m not Tigerclaw. His voice was nothing but a meek wail now, echoing like an owl’s cry throughout the forest. “I’ll never be Tigerclaw!”

He vaguely recognized someone’s mew, maybe Goldenflower, trying to calm him, but he tuned it out. “You- you have to believe me! I’m not Tigerclaw! I…” He shook his head, standing tall once more and raising his voice above all of the now chattering cats worried beneath him.

“I reject my name! I reject it all! From now on, I’m nothing but Rusty! Only Rusty!” He screeched, hearing Bluefur in his cry. Was this how she felt? Was this how Tigerclaw felt, stripped of his colony, his family, his home? Was this how small Goldenflower felt, turned in by her own mate? Was this how fearful Raven has felt, chased away and forced to be dead to his colony? His legs buckled beneath himself, cold stone gripping against him like teeth as he covered his eyes, head pounding.

Was this how hopeless Thunderstorm Colony felt, how broken they had become?

His mind swarmed like a hive of bees as he recognized the rough fur of Yellowfang shielding him from the gazes of the colony below, gently moving him to the menders den. He met her gaze, full of sorrow, anger, grief. He pressed against her like he was nothing more than a kitten. Nothing more than a kittypet.

“Breath, Rustyclaw. You’ll hyperventilate.” She mewed. He shook his head. “I’m not Rustyclaw. Only Rusty. Nothing else, not anymore.” Yellowfang gazed down at him, face unreadable.

“Not for long.”

#Warrior cats #warrior cats rewrite #Liver’s Warrior Cat Rewrite #Fireheart #bluestar #tigerclaw #thunderclan #Warrior cats writing #Warrior cats au

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jayfeatherdeservestobeawarrior · 10 months

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Moon 3 of OakClan!

Events:

Bluebadger is feeling much better, her bruises now healed.

Bluefreckle no longer has a stomach ache.

Tulip has finally recovered from the strain of birthing her litter.

Whitekit caught an insect while sneaking out of camp and now wears its wings proudly as a trophy of his journey.

A patrol scented a large dog! They scouted out and reported back without anyone getting hurt.

~Writing~

Burnetstar lead a patrol confidently through OakClan territory, proud of his clan's abilities to take care of those weaker, younger, and ill. Behind him, Weedtooth and Bluefreckle were both behaving how they usually behaved---Bluefreckle was being cold and reserved, and Weedtooth had a fierce gleam in her eyes as she flexed her claws, no doubt hoping for a battle.

"Burnetstar," Bluefreckle called, making the leader of OakClan pause in mid-step. "Maybe we should check the [I forgot all of the npc clans names D: ] border, at the last gathering I heard two apprentices talking about trespassing on our territory and trying owl?"

"You can't eat owls," Weedtooth snorted. "They'd probably eat you."

"I know that," Bluefreckle hissed coldly. "The apprentices were being stupid."

"Okay, everyone take a deep breath." Burnetstar said calmly, his eyes flashing with amusement. "Maybe we should talk this out."

"No!" Both warriors snapped at the same time.

"Great StarClan, Burnetstar," Weedtooth said exasperatedly. "You don't always have to be the therapist of the Clan, y'know?" [Just imagine they know what therapy is]

"Okay, okay, fine." Burnetstar started to move again, but this time towards their neighboring clan's border. "I think Bluefreckle's idea is a good one. Let's go check."

Weedtooth rolled her eyes and hissed softly to Bluefreckle, "Not a word."

Bluefreckle didn't reply, she only padded on ahead, no emotion in her eyes.

Suddenly, Burnetstar froze, his nose lifted into the air.

"What is it?" Weedtooth demanded, scenting the air as well. She bristled. "A kittypet." She growled. The fierce warrior tried to race ahead, but her tail was pulled back by Burnetstar.

"Calm down, Weedtooth. Perhaps this cat can be a new member of our Clan."

"Are you serious?" She hissed, her claws unsheathed,

"Yes. Bluefreckle," He turned to the rosetted warrior. "Go ahead and speak to the kittypet, introduce yourself to them and tell them about the Clan."

Bluefreckle looked surprised, and her voice had an icy edge to it when she spoke. "Why me?"

"You need to get connections in the Clan, Bluefreckle. You might as well start now."

Bluefreckle growled something under her breath, then padded off to see the kittypet. Soon, she came back with a plump mackerel she-cat, the kittypet's eyes shining.

~Writing finished~

A wild Shampoo has appeared!

Next and final patrol:

Treebubble, the leader of the patrol, decided that they were low enough on cats already, and that they didn't need less cats and more injuries.

Notes: I was too lazy and too unmotivated to draw for this moon, so you only get writing, sorry.

#clangen #warrior cats #warriors #writing #warrior cats writing #clangen writing #cat writing

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groobedbones · 2 years

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I know for a fact were most likely gonna have a, bristlefrost shadow boy type thing with frost paw and nightheart, like a night's gonna get a romance with Sunbeam for conflict Yada Yada but specifically I want them to interact, becasue 1. Id be cute i want frostpaw to comment on how theyre rude. But 2. I really want her to have some sort of moment with Sparkpelt. Specifically. Because they could have some sort of moment of like, but comforting each other in their grief, or even just getting to acknowledge like. Huh. That's fucked up. People should be more aware of their feelings. It would also like, if you lead into spark talking and thinking about her own dog attack, and also get her to talk about her feelings about the events of tbc, and how it affected her especially having in mind that it centered her parents. Especially with bramble having something funky with his mental health in river

I dunno.... Thinking

#warrior cats #warriocats #wc art #wc #warriors #warrior cats writing #asc river spoilers #Asc river #Frostpaw #Asc frostpaw #Nightheart #Sunbeam #Sparkpelt #The broken code #Ideas

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kirwell · 1 year

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Untold Tales: The Price of Your Greed

cw: death, torture, past trauma, sad shit ______ A choked gurgle pierced the air, rancid with the scent of fresh metallic blood and old rot. Her ears twitched at the delicate sound of droplets hitting the hard floor, forming small pools of rich crimson. The taste permeated her senses, and while once, long ago, it would’ve stung her eyes and suffocated her, it now only served as atmospheric background. The coppery twang of viscus fluid was no more common than the caw of swarming crows over a leftover kill or the ravenous howls of nighttime beasts. It was as much of a part of life as death.

“Beg me for mercy!” A dark, guttural snarl laced the still air, commanding the room's attention. A large bloodied paw, once pure and white, landed another furious hit on the downed body, hurling it away. It clattered on the hard stone, weakened limbs struggling to lift its own weight while its chest heaved uneven breaths.

“Admit you’re nothing but toxic rot!” Came the voice again, belonging to the white tom. His frame was muscular, an obvious detection even with his thick scar-riddled pelt, and he towered over the meeker body at his paws. The scarlet that painted him, dripping from maw to chest, contrasted against the sharp gold of his wrathful eyes.

She watched her brother from amidst the shadows, a place where she learned to thrive. She could never stand under the light like him, surrounded by the hungry gazes of his peers as they, too, sought to witness the beating he dealt.

“You abandoned me,” screeched her brother, “-Sold me! And for what? Another trinket in your pocket?” A paw came crashing down, and a pained wail escaped his prey. The body- a she-cat, coughed violently, spewing bloody spittle, and her eyes glowed with pain. The tom growled, baring pinkish teeth mere inches from her face. “You used to always talk, and now what? You have nothing to say? I won’t accept your silence!” He whacked her again, claws slicing over the she-cat’s cheek with such force it toppled her over again. Her brother watched the cat struggle, panting bloodied breaths as the beaten cat's head hung low, shoulders shaking. The anger boiling in the tomcat’s gaze was not a rage she was used to seeing, not since the day they were led here like lambs to slaughter and left behind. And now they would never be free.

“Can you not look at me, mother?” His head cocked in mockery as he circled his victim, and a chill slithered down her spine at the display. “You used to tell us they were too violent, too deranged to be cats like us. That they were sick.” He lowered his large head, unblinking eyes pinned on the grey molly, and his voice was just a whisper. “Now I am the violence. I am the sickness. Because of you.”

“...H-hoot…” Their mother’s neck craned to look upon her youngest son, her voice a soft, pained crackle.

She wondered what her mother saw; the innocent boy once so full of life or the blood-soaked mongrel he grew to become.

“I-I…I’m-s-sor-” she wheezed, coughing blood onto the concrete. “I-I’m s-sorry…”

The sister stared, as did her brother, but her focus was not on their mother, but instead the light in her sibling’s eyes. The vicious golden glow seemed to dim just for a moment before his brows narrowed and his muzzle wrinkled in a snarl.

“Yes, you are.” Like a predator swooping from the dark skies, he lunged, wrapping his jaws around a chunk of the she-cat’s flesh, sinking in his teeth.

Their mother’s holler of pain pierced her: she knew what her brother’s furious, burning bite felt like, the memory embedded into her core, and it made her scarred limbs ache. She anticipated a slew of blood and the crunch and rendering of flesh, a display she’s witnessed countless times before, but to her befuddlement, there was none. Instead, her brother began to drag their mother’s body along the ground, leaving behind a smeared trail of red as he hauled her away.

Their mother wailed in agony and defiance, paws flailing uselessly against her stronger son. And then she stopped when her stricken eyes reached toward the shadows and laid upon her spectating form.

“S-Scatter…?” She uttered softly.

So she truly did recognize her second-born daughter, despite the maiming scars, sunken dark eyes, and unkept pelt. Her visage may not be as gruesome as her brother’s, but even she could admit that she was a far cry from the spirited little molly that walked by her mother’s paws in blind admiration.

The direness of the situation finally seemed to overtake the mother's shocking revelation, and the ensnared she-cat wailed out in distress. “Scatter! Help me! Don’t let him do this! Don’t-” Her green eyes lowered, settling on a furred body splayed on its side beside the she-cat in the shadows. The freckled grey cat was motionless and eyes lidded, and she wondered if her mother thought her eldest daughter was dead. I wouldn’t hurt her. I’m not like you. Or him. But her sister needed to see this- to bear witness to the fruit of the seeds their mother had sowed long ago, and she couldn’t do that if she fought every moment of it. She would recover from the paralysis soon enough.

“D-Dart…? What did you do to her?” The she-cat screeched with a motherly fury she hadn’t expected to hear. “Did you kill her? Scatter! Scatter!”

“That’s not my name.” It wasn’t, and it hadn’t been since the last time she’d seen her mother. It was just yet another decision thrust upon her that was beyond her own control.

Stunned, her mother stared back with wide panicked eyes, but then the pain of her tugged flesh seemed to throw her back into a frenzy. “N-no! No! Scatter! Hoot- stop!” The she-cat could only flail as her son dragged her away to the edge of the chamber, where the floor had been destroyed, leaving deep craters of stone rubble. Some had been filled with leftover water, dark, murky, and unfit to consume.

Her brother threw the she-cat down with a pained grunt, and he pressed his muzzle in close, an indiscernible whisper escaping his bloody lips. For a heartbeat, all was silent. And then he shoved her into the crater, splashing water over the edges as he pounced. The waves were rapid as their mother thrashed about, held down by her son’s massive, unyielding paws, fighting a futile battle.

The body beside the sister stirred weakly on the floor, muscles twitching and green eyes surely focused on the merciless display put on by their shared brother. She rested a tail on the flank of her older littermate, sensing her distress, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the murder of their mother. Her brother was unmoved, a mountain of muscle atop a lean-bodied cat who couldn’t begin to oppose his might. She knew all too well what that felt like.

The cat in the shadows thought of her mother’s shaken apologies and desperate pleas and remembered when their roles had once been reversed. When she begged to be rescued, saved from the darkness that promised to consume her and her brother both, and how their mother turned her back on her kits.

‘A mongrel’- she called him.

‘Nothing but rubble’- she called her.

You can beg for forgiveness from your son and your daughter. Rubble wondered if her mother was worth dredging from the crevice and saving from the depths of the sloshing liquid. And then Rubble saw the blood in the quieting water, a rising pool of crimson that turned black in the rich, encasing muck and shadow, and she sighed. But this is the price of your greed. ____

AN: One of my favorite and most tragic warriors OCs, Rubble/Scatter, and her dysfunctional family. Her story took place in an a dark post-apocalyptic roleplay group that's not around anymore, but I've been wanting to reinvent the world for my own story. Inspired by the song "blood/water" by grandson. It fits them way too well. Hope it wasn't too difficult to understand without a ton of past context ^^' Would love to write more with these characters. Thank you if ya got this far! Hope you enjoyed. Comments are much appreciated <3

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aspenhearrt · 6 months

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Clan Cat Writing - Prayer for the Departed

Hey gang! It's been a while, but I wrote something pretty cool and I'd like to show it off! This is a prayer for the departed invented by Oysterbelly, one of Crowpaw's Clanmates:

I created this using @bonefall's glyphic writing system! You'll notice that I invented a new sign as well; the first one at the top I'm calling "scratch." It was invented by Oysterbelly and can be used to mean something like "a lot of" or sometimes "in the future."

I have two translations below the cut. One is a rough/literal translation and the other is what Oysterbelly is actually saying!

Rough/literal translation: (there will be) good/plentiful hunting. Family buried here. Ground (will) grow healing herbs. StarClan. Family safe. My Clan safe. Holy resting place. Silverpelt. Clan.

Faithful translation: There will be plentiful prey for my loved one. My loved one is buried here. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. StarClan, keep my loved one safe. The rest of our family will be okay. Rest in peace. You're with Silverpelt now. I love you.

Oysterbelly plays a little fast and loose with the meanings of some of the signs and is hoping they'll mostly come across with context, but the prayer isn't for the living anyway; it's for their beloved mentor Olivestep, who they are helping to bury.

#wc #warrior cats #warriors #warriors oc clan #warriors oc #warrior cats oc #wc oc clan #wc oc #crowpaw story #warrior cats writing #writing systems #tw funeral #tw death #tw animal death

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mothdapple · 8 months

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Ashfur’s mind returned to the question of why Hollyleaf had been avoiding the crowded areas of StarClan and found his quiet glades and hollows in the first place. Could it be that, like him, she felt like she was a misfit in StarClan? That the other spirits here were corrupt, selfish, and complacent? She had faced a trial as he had, but, unlike Ashfur’s, Hollyleaf’s trial had been for good reason— she’d murdered him! Still though, Ashfur supposed that in her head, she might view it as unfair.

Ashfur found himself weirdly sympathetic to her feelings. The more time that passed in StarClan and the further he drew away from the time when he was actually alive, he felt more of his grievances with Hollyleaf fading away, echoing the way that he’d also come to forgive Squirrelflight.

It was still wrong of Hollyleaf to kill me. Like, how it was right for me to punish Squirrelflight, Ashfur thought. But, I don’t think that I really care that much anymore that I died.

One day, Ashfur and Hollyleaf found themselves back in the birch tree grove, the same one where he’d first encountered her.

Ashfur’s eyes were partially closed as he half-dozed in a warm pool of sunlight, drifting slowly in and out of consciousness.

“I’m not sorry for it, you know.”

After days upon days of silent company, at first, Ashfur thought he’d dreamt the sound of Hollyleaf’s sudden voice. But, when he blinked open his eyes and glanced over at her, finding her already glaring at him, her expression surprisingly fierce, he knew that she had actually spoken.

Ashfur’s brow furrowed.

“What?” he asked, his voice coming out raspy from disuse.

“I’m not sorry,” Hollyleaf repeated, her tone firm. “And, I want you to know that. When I got here, they asked me if I was sorry, and I said yes. And, it wasn’t a lie because I am sorry for a lot of things.”

Hollyleaf lashed her tail, looking more animated than Ashfur had seen her since she’d arrived in StarClan. “I’m sorry for hurting Squirrelflight, and Leafpool, and Bramblestar, and my brothers, and any other cat who cared about me. I’m sorry for leaving ThunderClan. I’m sorry for breaking the Warrior Code… But you? You threatened me and my family. I’m not sorry for killing you.”

Ashfur met her defiant, blazing green eyes, and their color and expression were so identical to Squirrelflight’s, it made Ashfur’s breath catch in his throat.

“…I’m not sorry either,” Ashfur whispered, and his heart clenched in relief to finally say something entirely truthful for the first time in moons.

Hollyleaf gave a curt nod, looking away from him.

“Yeah. I didn’t think you were.”

-Ashfur's Purgatory

I'm still really proud of this scene! Thinking about how Ashfur and Hollyleaf would have interacted in StarClan just totally fascinates me, and the idea of them having this conversation is what inspired me to write the entire "Ashfur's Purgatory" fanfic in the first place.

In my eyes, Ashfur and Hollyleaf in StarClan make really interesting parallels for each other. Ashfur blames everyone else for what happened, and thinks he was justified for every choice he made. He feels like he is entirely worthy of StarClan and is disgusted by the cats in StarClan who would question him being there. Meanwhile, Hollyleaf feels a lot of guilt for the pain she caused others (spilling the secret at the gathering, threatening Leafpool, running away, etc. etc.) but the one thing that she does feel justified about was killing Ashfur. Still though, she's carrying a lot of guilt about whether she is truly worthy of her place in StarClan and feels like a bit of imposter there.

This means they both end up being very lonely in StarClan and finding some weird solace in each other's company, while the whole time, their deeper emotions on the situation are worlds apart from each other-- Ashfur thinks about how they both feel wronged by StarClan, when Hollyleaf is actually thinking "I’m not supposed to be here. But neither are you."

#ashfur #hollyleaf #warrior cats fanfic #warrior cats analysis #warrior cats writing #Ashfur's Purgatory

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kudossi · 2 years

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until the stars blink out

Much like the day of her apprentice ceremony, it dawns cool and clear. Dovewing can see patches of pink sky from the partially-destroyed den she’s inhabiting — with the warriors’ den collapsed, they’ve been shuffled into one den or the next, with little thought for comfort or repairs. Dovewing herself is in the apprentices’ den, surrounded by all of the other young cats in the Clan.

Except for the ones that had died, that was. But she wouldn’t — couldn’t — think about that right now. Couldn’t think about how even powers had not prevented a massacre, couldn’t stop the end.

On the older end of the cats assigned to this den, Hollyleaf’s side rises and falls slowly beside her. There are deep gashes gouged into her old mentor’s flanks and shoulders, covered in what herbs and cobwebs could be spared. She looks like she’s been mauled by a badger, all the dressings bloodied through, but she’s alive. Alive. It sounds more impossible than anything today. There are several young cats missing from this apprentice-assigned roster, and not all of them are occupying the medicine den. Some are stretched out in the clearing, awaiting their vigils.

It had been a strange thing, not sitting vigil the night of a death; stranger still to know that Firestar was not the cat to lead it. Squirrelflight, chosen firmly by a dying Brambleclaw, had taken one look at the exhausted survivors and had ordered them all into dens, telling them to sleep before they mourned. But how could they not? She thinks of Foxleap, who had always been there with a joke or a story, distracting from even the worst of happenings; she remembers Ferncloud and Dustpelt, who had defended the camp until their dying breaths; thinks carefully of smiling Molepaw, who had been terribly, impossibly young.

Even with their orders, no one had gotten much sleep that night. They had lain awake, whispering to cats who weren’t there – sending prayers and wishes to StarClan, that they might receive them well. With mercy, in a few cases; the cats who had turned had seemed to all turn back, but they had betrayed their Clan still.

(—Flashing claws, gnashing teeth, hot blood spilling across her muzzle — a flurry of paws, an exposed throat, a gray-patched maw opening in surprise, blue eyes glazing slowly over—)

She does not remember Ivypool. She cannot think of Ivypool.

She knows that she shouldn’t leave the den, knows that Hollyleaf would want her to wake her. But Dovewing struggles to her feet anyway, dislodging the black tail slung comfortingly over her side, and picks her way into the clearing.

It’s all too bright out here, in the open, with nothing but stone and leaves and sky to distract her from the fallen. They’ve been laid out neatly by what remained of the elders, looking as if nothing more had happened than them deciding to sleep under the stars. But the fantasy can’t hold long — already the scent of rot is creeping past the lavender and thyme, spread so sparingly throughout the victims’ fur. Dovewing spots Sandstorm, placed back-to-back with Firestar, protecting each other one last time; sees Brightheart, still living, curled around Cloudtail’s unmoving form. Squirrelflight ordered us to sleep, Hollyleaf’s voice says in her mind. We’ll be of no use if we die, too. But no one could ask Brightheart to leave her mate’s side, and it looked as if the she-cat had not moved all night. She was the last of her litter, now, with Brackenfur and Thornclaw curled nearby; Brightheart’s gaze is fixed almost unnaturally on her brothers, who lie just beyond Cloudtail’s fluffy white tail. Blinking, Dovewing purposefully kicks a rock to warn her grandmother of her presence, but Brightheart doesn’t so much as twitch an ear.

When Dovewing presses her muzzle heavily into her grandmother’s too-cold pelt, it’s with a numb sort of awareness. The fact that she’s dead (dead, dead, blood and ichor and entrails) buzzes fleetingly through her mind, but fizzles out without her quite realizing the meaning. She sits heavily next to Brightheart’s corpse, grooms a stray, blood-matted patch of fur, and gently closes her eyes.

By the time she’s finished, cats have started to emerge from dens. Spiderleg looks helplessly at the warriors’ den and back to the line of dead Clanmates before him. She can almost hear his thoughts — with Dustpelt and Brackenfur gone, who will lead repairs?

A shadow falls along Dovewing’s side, crawling up her pelt and over Brightheart’s head. “What do you want?” she croaks out, hearing the way her own voice muffles through fur and cold, cold skin.

There’s a rustle as the cat sits down beside her. “Have you visited her yet?” Hollyleaf asks, because of course it’s Hollyleaf. There’s no blame in her voice, no anger at her former apprentice leaving the den without her.

“No,” Dovewing says quietly. “I don’t think I can.”

“You can,” Hollyleaf assures her. There’s only soft sympathy and cold sorrow behind Hollyleaf’s mew, and when Dovewing looks up, her former mentor’s shape is framed by the rising sun, the morning turning the tips of each hair to gold. “You will.”

Dovewing closes her eyes. “I don’t want to say goodbye. I’m not strong enough.”

“Not strong enough?” Hollyleaf asks, settling alongside her. “You’re the strongest cat I know.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Dovewing says, irritation sparking along her spine. “You know that’s not true!”

“But it is,” Hollyleaf says softly. “All of this — my brothers and I didn’t know about the prophecy until we were almost warriors. But you… you’ve known since you were a kit that you were different.”

Dovewing hangs her head. “Different,” she repeats dully.

“You didn’t get the kithood and the apprenticeship most cats get,” Hollyleaf continues. “I tried, I did, but it wasn’t enough. No, don’t look at me like that,” she adds when Dovewing opens her mouth to protest. “You still had powers. You still had a prophecy hanging over your head. You still couldn’t relate to your peers; you still couldn’t be yourself.”

“So?” Dovewing asks sharply.

“One day, I hope you’ll forgive yourself,” Hollyleaf murmurs, tucking her head on top of her once-apprentice’s ears. It isn’t what Dovewing had expected her to say, and the sentiment bubbles in her chest like acid. “You deserve peace.”

“I brought it,” Dovewing snaps, defensive. “That’s what the prophecy said, didn’t it?”

An exhale through her mentor’s nose. “At what cost?” she asks, and both cats fall silent, taking in the soft sounds of grief echoing through the hollow.

“Ivypool’s life,” Dovewing whispers. ��Everyone else’s.”

“No!” Hollyleaf denies. “No, Dovewing, no. That wasn’t your fault. The cost I was talking about — it was you, Dove. The very ability to be you was taken away. You have a chance now, but—”

But now Ivypool’s dead. But now the Clan is in disrepair. But now my adulthood will be just another extension of the day Jayfeather told me I had powers. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Hollyleaf repeats, soft and sad.

There’s not much else to say, Dovewing thinks. She looks out upon the rows and rows of the deceased, catches Ivypool’s pelt and winces away, tucking her head into Hollyleaf’s side like she’d done when she was young and anxious and so very, horribly afraid.

Hollyleaf starts up a purr, even though Dovewing knows she has nothing to purr about. Still, it’s soothing, like cooling herbs over a burn, and she lets herself fade into it, pretending for a moment that she was still that sad, scared apprentice, one who didn’t have blood on her paws. Despite everything, Dovewing wishes she could go back. Wishes she could reconcile with her sister. Wishes everything had been different, different, different.

“Someday we’ll learn to live again,” Hollyleaf says, though Dovewing hadn’t spoken aloud. “But even if we don't, it'll be okay. I promise you that. Remember what I told you when you were first apprenticed?”

Dovewing looks up at her old mentor. The sky’s gone blue, now, not a cloud marring the sky. The wind whips eagerly through the branches, and for one impossible moment Dovewing thinks she sees stars amongst the leaves. They stare down at her, and she can't decide what they're trying to tell her. Would they want to tell her anything, now that ThunderClan was in tatters? “That you’d love me until the stars blink out,” Dovewing recites. It's a practiced phrase, one repeated over and over again by the only family who'd ever truly seen her, and it flows like comfort off her tongue.

She chances a glance at her sister once more. Goodbye, Ivypool, she doesn’t say. I’ll love you until the sky crashes to the ground, she doesn’t say. I’ll love you until the stars streak from the heavens. I’ll love you, I’ll love you, I’ll love you. And until then, I’ll live for you.

“That’s still true,” Hollyleaf murmurs. “It’ll always be true.”

“I know,” Dovewing says, and a smile pulls at her despite herself. “I love you too, you know. We’ll see the end together, won’t we?”

“If it’s within our power,” Hollyleaf promises.

The stars in Dovewing’s vision seem to spin almost merrily as they fade from her sight, a blue-tinged one lingering for just a moment longer. “It will be,” she breathes. “I can feel it.”

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oldfacesnewdawnoffical · 1 year

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The Fealty’s Afterworld

The afterlife ideals of the Fourtrees Fealty

TW: Non-graphic death, non-graphic discussion of death, discussion of afterlife.

Not only are the factions of the Fourtrees Fealty bound by honor, blood, and loyalty, but they also share the same afterlife and a similar belief of what happens after death.

The section of the plane of energy (also known more commonly as “afterlife”) that is claimed predominantly by fealty cats is known by many common names: the Star’s Realm, the Plane of Lights, the hereafter, the fairweather fields. Though most cats known it more simply as, “The Beyond”.

While individual ideas of what exactly awaits those who fall to an eternal rest is, all fealty cats are raised to believe in the existence of the Beyond, and of the importance of a body being laid to rest. Exact rituals vary from faction-to-faction, but it is believed that the type of wake offered to an individual decides which plane that the deceased will be guided or bound to: the Plane of Lights, or the Place of No Stars.

With the sheer weight that the living place upon history, knowledge, and comprehension, these ideals affect their afterlife in turn. So long as a soul is remembered, they linger; they exist and “feed on” memory until they are forgotten, in which their energy is recycled into a new life. “The law of conservation of energy states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed - only converted from one form of energy to another.” This new life could be anything: a newborn kitten, a puppy, a fox cub, an archfiend, etc; it’s a roll of the dice. Sometimes, the energy of a former fealty cat will settle into a new fealty kit, and while this cat will remember nothing of their past life once they are grown, they will have flashes of memories as a kit. This is due to the kitten’s life being very new and not yet filled with experiences, allowing them to peek into their previous existence while their new life and old life coalesce. [Inspired by @prettytoms’s post found HERE!]

This is possible at all due, in part, to the massive amounts of dormant magic that exists within the plane of the afterlife - not just that of the fealty’s, but of all of them that exist. The plane of the afterlife could be compared to a quilt: it’s held together by magic, it’s “stitching”, with each respective afterlife being compared to a patch on that overall quilt. The fealty’s afterlife specifically leans a little more heavily into the mortal plane than most, however, with the Plane of No Stars.

Where the Plane of Lights is a lush, forever green carbon copy of the fortress valley, free of outside threats, and home to every deceased soul that resides in the living’s memory that ever called the fealty home in turn, the Plane of No Stars exists directly on top of the mortal plane. Cats who weren’t given proper burials are unable to ascend to the Plane of Lights, and thus spend the remainder of their existence wandering the living plane, unable to interact with anything or anyone, unable to hear the living but able to watch. Forever watching, never acting.

The two planes of the fealty’s afterlife are connected, though. And very closely. Both are governed by the fealty’s pantheon, though the Place of No Stars much more loosely. The Stars are able to send loved ones with the knowledge of an imposing problem to the realm of the living, thus impacting the mortals as well as the ghosts and wraiths who reside on that plane. They also decide how many blessings a current orator is to receive, and from whom. The two planes are connected through the Stars, and while they operate in vastly different ways, neither can exist without the other to act as a scale of balance.

#old faces new dawn #warrior cats rewrite #warriors rewrite #warriors au #warrior cats writing #warriors cats au #fealty faith #.. technically???#I hope I get a bunch of questions about the star’s realm because I’m really excited about it #and I hope to be able to expand upon it based on y’all’s questions/intrigue ^^#important lore alert #world building #worldbuilding #starclan

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