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rippleclan · 27 days

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RippleClan: Moon 35

Shadowdrop made Carnationspeckle laugh again and again.

[Image ID: Shadowdrop talks with Carnationspeckle. Rattlepelt watches from afar. Under Rattlepelt, it says LEVEL UP! PREY CLEANER -> LEATHER ARTIST.

(Rattlepelt: 18, female, artisan, fierce, leather artist)

(Shadowdrop: 27, male, codekeeper, sneaky, eloquent speaker, good teacher)

(Carnationspeckle: 37, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

Downstar calls for a Clan meeting and declares Mousepaw to be a codekeeper. She is now called Mousesong.

[Image ID: Mousepaw, now Mousesong, faces Rattlepelt. Mousesong says “Thanks, I suppose.” Under Mousesong, it says LEVEL UP! MOUSEPAW -> MOUSESONG, ODDLY OBSERVANT -> KEEN EYE.)

---

Rattlepelt wanted to start a new tradition in the warrior’s den. Rabbitjoy was all for helping her collect the needed materials, so all the pair had to do was wake up early and prepare. It gave Rattlepelt something else to think about other than Shadowdrop.

It wasn’t that Rattlepelt disliked him. He was a fine codekeeper and helped Rattlepelt improve some recipes on occasion. But he was not the right fit for Carnationspeckle. Carnationspeckle was selfless, kind, talented, and understanding. Shadowdrop simply wasn’t. Carnationspeckle assured Rattlepelt that she was just friends with Shadowdrop, and while Rattlepelt believed her mother, she didn’t think Shadowdrop felt the same. That, combined with her sister’s codekeeper ceremony the night before, made it hard for Rattlepelt to sleep. So, she worked.

“I don’t think she’ll like it,” Rabbitjoy muttered as dawn rose. The brown molly plucked down from between her claws. She and Rattlepelt sat outside the warrior’s den. Their Clanmates walked around them

“We might as well see,” Rattlepelt sighed just as the newly named Mousesong entered camp. The name did not fit the way the white molly held her head high and walked through camp without a glance at anyone else. Rattlepelt swallowed hard as Mousesong trudged to the warrior’s den.

“Mousesong!” Rattlepelt called as the newly named codekeeper approached. “Congratulations on your ceremony.”

“Thanks,” Mousesong muttered. “Where can I sleep?”

“That’s what we wanted to show you,” Rabbitjoy explained. She slipped behind Rattlepelt and into the den. She stopped beside Mousesong’s new nest. There was an odd, furry lump sitting in the nest. It was made of mouse pelts, held together with twine. Mousesong pawed the bundle and it squished under the pressure. It fluffed back up when she moved her paw.

“What is this?” Mousesong asked.

“Something we invented,” Rattlepelt chirped. “I tanned some mouse leather and Rabbitjoy tied them together. We stuffed down and moss in between the two. You can lay your head on it, and it’s like resting on someone’s side. I picked mouse pelts since I know you like mice.” Mousesong crawled into her new nest and slowly put her head on the fluff-ball. “I’m hoping we can make little gifts like these for new graduates in the future.”

“Why?” Mousesong huffed, lifting her head.

“Because it shows that we appreciate everything you’ve done,” Rattlepelt insisted. Mousesong eyed both Rattlepelt and Rabbitjoy. Rabbitjoy squirmed under Mousesong’s cold eyes, but Rattlepelt stood firm.

“Thanks, I suppose,” Mousesong muttered. “You didn’t have to do that. Either of you.” She laid back down and said, “I’ll catch something good for you both after I sleep.”

“That’s a promise,” Rattlepelt chirped. “We’ll let you rest. Sweet dreams, Mousesong!” Mousesong stared at her the whole way out of the warrior’s den. Rabbitjoy glanced back a dozen times as she and Rattlepelt made their way to the “artisan’s corner” of camp, where they had their tanning rack and other crafting tools set up.

“I can’t tell if she liked the fluff-ball,” Rabbitjoy sighed. “I’m impressed she didn’t rip into you.”

“She cares, even if she doesn’t admit it,” Rattlepelt said. “I know she does. It scares her, that’s all.”

“You show her more grace than I can,” Rabbitjoy said, shaking her head with a soft chuckle.

“She’s my sister,” Rattlepelt huffed. “Of course I do.”

(Rattlepelt: 18, female, artisan, fierce, leather artist)

(Rabbitjoy: 72, female, artisan, charismatic, master weaver)

(Mousesong: 12, female, codekeeper, loyal, keen eye)

Palekit found a hole in the rocks and, curious as all kits are, stuck her paw inside. The whole camp comes running when she screeches in pain. It seems a snake was living in that hole.

[Image ID: Weedfoot, Fennelspot, and Scrubmask run toward Palekit, who is screaming “Momma!” Under Palekit, it says + NEW SKILL: PICKY NEST BUILDER. + CONDITION: SNAKE BITE,]

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Palekit’s scream stirred a sleeping fear in Weedfoot that she thought had long since faded.

She had been sharing stew with Fennelspot and Scrubmask, admiring the petals the former now kept tucked into his white patch. Clammask was on nursery duty, and Weedfoot could hear her children’s giggles from the other side of camp. There shouldn’t have been a reason to be on edge. And yet, as Weedfoot dipped her muzzle into the bowl for another sip of soup, a kitten’s wail pierced the peace hovering over camp.

Weedfoot was running before she even processed what she saw. Palekit, whose eyes were shifting to match her father and whose strong legs had been the first of her litter to walk, now cradled one leg close as a slick black snake stuck its head out of a hole in the rocks.

“Momma!” Palekit wept. Fear-scent flooded her tiny body as she stared at the snake. Even with Weedfoot’s head start, Fennelspot was faster. He snatched Palekit by the scruff and dragged her away from the snake. Carnationspeckle had been sharing tongues with Downstar and bolted out of the leader’s den at the little kit’s cry. The young caretaker spotted the snake and pounced. Her fangs sunk into the snake’s neck. She shook the snake wildly and flung it over the rocks and out of camp.

“Palekit, when did you leave the den?” Clammask hurried out of the nursery. Weedfoot’s four other children lingered behind her. Poor Weedfoot’s attention was solely focused on her oldest daughter, who shook as she wailed.

“Momma’s here, Palekit,” Weedfoot cooed as Fennelspot examined the bite on Palekit’s leg.

“What do you need?” Downstar barked, already running for the medicine den.

“It’s not venomous!” Fennelspot yowled, waving Downstar off. “The bite is not venomous.”

“How do you know?” Scrubmask asked as the rest of RippleClan gathered around Fennelspot and Weedfoot.

“Do you see how the bite wound forms an arch?” Fennelspot explained as Weedfoot groomed Palekit’s head. “That means the snake does not have venom. I believe it was a black ratsnake. They can hurt, but they aren’t deadly.”

“Is she okay?” Downstar huffed, glaring at Fennelspot with more fire in her eyes than Weedfoot had seen in moons.

“She will be,” Fennelspot promised. “We just need to clean the bite and make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“I want my dad,” Palekit cried, burying her little face in her mother’s fur.

“Has anyone seen James today?” Scrubmask called to the crowd.

“He took a walk with Parsley and Rustshade,” Carnationspeckle said, spitting snake blood out of her mouth. “I can find them.”

“Go,” Downstar huffed, nodding. Carnationspeckle looped around the crowd and jogged out of camp.

“I don’t like this,” Palekit moaned.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Weedfoot promised, picking Palekit up by the scruff. As she did so, her head swam. She steadied her paws and shoved the dizziness back. She may have still been weak from the difficult birth, but stars-damn it, she was going to carry her daughter to the medicine den.

[Image ID: Waspkit, Lavenderkit, Ripplekit, and Puddlekit hog the screen. Under Ripplekit, it says + NEW SKILLS: AVID PLAY-FIGHTER, SPLASHES IN PUDDLES. Under Puddlekit, it says + NEW SKILL: MORBID CURIOSITY. Under Lavenderkit, it says + NEW SKILL: LOVES TO SING. Under Waspkit, it says + NEW SKILL: INTERESTED IN CLAN HISTORY.]

As Weedfoot and Fennelspot brought Palekit into the medicine den, four pairs of blue-tinted eyes watched them from the nursery. Clammask stood in front of them with her tail running over each of their little backs.

“Did any of you notice Palekit leave the nursery?” Clammask sighed, turning back to the kits.

“She was playing with Puddlekit,” Waspkit immediately said, pointing his tail at his younger brother.

“I didn’t think we had to stay in the nursery,” Puddlekit whined. Without his white blaze and deep blue eyes, he would look just like his injured sister, albeit a bit more pathetic (in Waspkit’s eyes at least).

“Puddlekit is in trouble,” Lavenderkit sang, trotting around Puddlekit. “Puddlekit is in trouble!”

“No he isn’t!” Ripplekit whined, smacking her white-splashed brother’s flank. “It’s no one’s fault!”

“Ripplekit is right,” Clammask added. “This was a bad accident. The snake could have bitten anyone. If anything, I’m to blame for not keeping an eye on your sister.”

“Clammask is in trouble, Clammask is in trouble,” Lavenderkit sang, throwing himself on Clammask’s leg.

“I’m going to sit outside,” Clammask sighed, gently shoving Lavenderkit off. “Keep yourselves entertained, you four.” She stepped off the leather floor and onto the warm sand. She laid across the entrance, trapping the four remaining kits inside the nursery.

“Listen!” Waspkit yowled. He waved his tail wildly to catch his littermates’ attention. “Palekit’s hurt! No more getting hurt, everyone.”

“I promise,” Puddlekit said quietly.

“I’ll do what I want!” Lavenderkit huffed. He launched himself on his front paws, but his headstand attempt proved futile. He tumbled forward and his flank landed right in Waspkit’s face. Waspkit growled and launched into a full assault on his brother. Ripplekit squealed and joined the fight. Puddlekit watched from the sidelines.

Unbeknownst to any of the small kits, their laughter warmed the frigid air suffocating the camp.

(Weedfoot: 84, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(Fennelspot: 92, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Scrubmask: 52, female, warrior, gloomy, fast runner, good hunter)

(Palekit: 1, female, kit, impulsive, picky nest builder)

(Carnationspeckle: 37, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Clammask: 29, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)

(Downstar: 93, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Waspkit: 1, male, kit, bossy, interested in clan history)

(Puddlekit: 1, male, kit, polite, morbid curiosity)

(Lavenderkit: 1, male, kit, noisy, likes to sing)

(Ripplekit: 1, female, kit, know-it-all, avid play-fighter, splashes in puddles)

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cherry-clan · 1 month

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palepaw i would die for you I WOULD DIE FOR YOU

first - last - next

#cherryclan #cherryclangen #clangen #warrior cats #bitternfur #palekit #palepaw #eaglekit #eaglepaw

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smallfire · 9 months

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We see you, Opal, Your troubles are miles away We see you, Opal, And in our eyes you'll stay.

finally a proper ref for a baby boy who's getting bigger! many cheers and happiness for mister palepaw :]

#mister Looking......... he is simply Looking #still a creature as always bless his heart #palekit #palepaw #my art #threeclans #wcrp

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gooseclan · 3 months

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Palekit must be protected by all means

#clangen #gooseclan #otterskip #palekit #dustbillow #sandypaw #eveningpaw #blood tw

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rowansclan · 3 months

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Jaggedkit....

This moon will be put into two posts because so much happened.

#I might do one more art piece of her because I loved her too much.#I changed Palekit to have curly/puffy fur as well because I felt it suited her more.#RowanClan #Art #Clangen #Clan generator #Dewjay #Rimebadger #Oakspots #Jaggedkit #Strikefur #Snapkit #Palekit #Flightkit

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cloudtail · 2 years

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#palesky #palepaw #palekit #skyclan #a vision of shadows #the broken code #hawkwing's journey #oh I didnt realize she has amber eyes. oh well

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robinaenae · 6 months

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Webstar of CrowClan living relatives post woo

First is obviously Webstar

His mother Greydawn…

His daughters Vinelight and Mistybark (ft Poppyash Mistybark’s mate)

Vinelight’s sons Tallflower and Fernstrike

Mistybark’s first kit Beetlebriar, and Twigkit and Alderkit

anndd the Clan’s baby, gigormpus daughter of Tallflower, Palekit

+ Brindlewhisker, Tallflower’s mate, for cropping

This is technically all living kin + their mates ig 🐺

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residents-of-the-darkforest · 9 months

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Visit The Leader (short story)

Palekit’s heartbeat thrummed through every vein, reaching down to his toes and causing his legs to shake so badly that he nearly stumbled over his own paws.

Beside him, his mother shook her hide and chuckled softly. “Watch your step, deary.” She swept her tail beneath his chin, lifting it. “And chin up! Today is not a day to look damfool.”

Palekit shuddered as they continued on their way. I know, he thought nervously, stomach bubbling with the threat of nausea.

His feelings only grew in intensity when the thorns came into view, and even more so when they entered a less-densely packed tunnel that ended in brown, wilting vines that dripped down from the top branches, blocking their path in a partial wall. “Greetings, Alderstar,” Jayice called. “May my son and I speak with you?”

Palekit’s throat went dry.

“Come in,” Alderstar called.

Palekit’s feet were frozen against the uncomfortably dirt ground, and his mother had to nudge him hard before he was finally able to tell himself to move, even though the only thing he had wanted to do right then was turn tail and run until he couldn’t see any of the branches any more.

He felt his eyes involuntarily widen before he could stop them. Alderstar wasn’t alone in his leadership den. His nest–comfortable as it could be, given how wilted the plants in the Dark Forest were, was made of moss and soft grass and stretched twice the length of the golden tom, more than enough space for his mate, Myrtlewing, to lay at his shoulder, leaning over one foreleg and resting the back of his head on Alderstar’s chest.

Having to meet one killer was enough of an anxiety-trip, but two of them? Alderstar still at least had some of the blue of his eyes visible behind the veil of grey. Myrtlewing’s, however, were entirely black–a signal that he had killed many even after his death. The only light in them came from the sharp red of his pupils, which themselves told of a cat that killed countless while still alive. Unfortunately, Alderstar didn’t differentiate in that area.

“I–uhm.” Finally, Jayice seemed as nervous as Palekit felt. She cleared her throat. “I was hoping that you would be so kind as to perform Palekit’s apprenticeship, and later warrior’s ceremony.”

Alderstar was only silent for a few seconds, but those seconds were enough for Palekit to wish that the earth would swallow him up. He imagined the pair suddenly leaping. He had heard stories of them both, and felt sure that suffocating on dirt would be a more merciful ending for him. Alderstar’s eyes revealed nothing, not even true indifference, while Myrtlewing’s sparked with an interest that made Palekit feel like a mouse about to be pounced on, and he stared down at his paws to avoid it.

“Of course,” Alderstar answered. Palekit felt eyes on him. “How old is he?” The question was casual, and Alderstar finished by giving his mate a few endearing licks between his ears. A wonderfully lovely scene, yet Palekit felt nothing but dread. The thorns were leaning towards him…the shadows like fangs..

“Almost five moons.” Palekit nearly jumped at his mother’s voice.

“Do you already have an idea for a mentor?”

Jayice cleared her throat again. “N-no. Sorry, was I meant to?”

“No matter,” Alderstar replied simply. “Is he always so jittery?”

Jayice glanced sideways at her son. “He’s normally more adventurous. But he’s real sensitive. I don’t want anyone too harsh–if that’s okay with you, of course.”

Alderstar shrugged. “Mother knows best.” He gave a small smile, then. It somehow made Palekit feel both safer and threatened–as though his racing heart knew that it was a trap. “I will think on it. Until then, you and your son, Palekit, may go. I will think thoroughly until I am sure that I’ve arrived at as near a perfect choice as can be achieved, and will speak with you then for your approval.”

Jayice bowed low. “Thank you for your time, Alderstar.”

Alderstar dipped his head. Myrtlewing’s eyes had closed blissfully, as if the conversation had lulled him to a half-sleep.

“I will see you in just over a moon then,” Alderstar finished, speaking directly to Palekit.

“Th-thank y-you,” Palekit replied. He couldn’t get out of the den fast enough. Of all leaders his mother had to pick to perform his apprentice ceremony, it had to be a serial killer with an even more deranged serial killer mate.

=============

--Alder has TWO nests! His main one is deeper within the thorns and definitely not so easy to get to. This is the one that is meant to be found for reasons such as this, which is why the tunnel is more clear.

--A story about Alder and Myrtle from the POV of someone who only knows them as the monsters that they are!

#dark tales #dark forest tales #wc dark tales #jayice #alderstar #alderstar story #myrtlewing #myrtlewing story #palekit #eye-out poly

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warriors-but-cats-die · 1 year

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skyclan — year eleven — leafbare

fernsun dies.

tigerpaw dies.

pigeonkit dies.

cherrytail has eight kittens with rabbitleap:

antlerkit: golden she-cat.

creamkit: tiny mottled tom with amber eyes.

dewkit: large, short, sleek, grey tom with white paws and amber eyes.

greykit: tiny, young, dark tom with white paws.

palekit: small red tom.

pinekit: magnificent, large, flecked brown she-cat with white paws and yellow eyes.

sandkit: huge brown she-cat with white paws and hazel eyes.

wormkit: large golden she-cat.

dewkit dies.

clovertail dies.

#wbcd #skyclan #r2 #r2-y11 #r2-y11-lb #fernsun #tigerpaw #pigeonkit #cherrytail #antlerkit #creamfang #dewkit #greypaw #palekit #pine-ear #sandfang #wormpelt #clovertail

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dewclangen · 4 months

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first death count

Palepaw, Shadowpaw, Hazellight

#palekit #palepaw #shadowkit #shadowpaw #hazellight #dewclangen profiles #dewclangen screenshots

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rippleclan · 13 days

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RippleClan: Moon 36

Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle have become mates.

[Image ID: Oilstripe says to Carnationspeckle, “You’re already a hero, Carnation.” Under Oilstripe, it says + MATE: CARNATIONSPECKLE. Under Carnationspeckle, it says + MATE: OILSTRIPE. Rustshade, Rattlepelt, and Applepelt watch from afar.]

Oilstripe watched Downstar and Rustshade quietly share tongues below the Shiprock as she steadied her nerves. Would Downstar be annoyed if Oilstripe interrupted? She knew Downstar spent the most time with Rustshade when her mood was low (Duskkit kept her up one night complaining about it), was now a good time? It had to be. Oilstripe couldn’t wait much longer.

“Dad?” Oilstripe said, approaching the two founders. “Do you have a minute to talk with me?” Rustshade paused with his tongue on Downstar’s ear.

“What about?” Rustshade asked. Oilstripe hesitated as Downstar’s sharp amber eyes studied her ginger pelt.

“I can explain in private,” Oilstripe finally said. Rustshade brushed his tail against Downstar and got up. Downstar silently slunk back to her den. Duskkit’s spirit peeked out from the nursery and ran into the leader’s den. Rustshade followed Oilstripe’s gaze but could not see the star speckled kit.

Oilstripe led Rustshade around the Shiprock and said “I’m taking Carnationspeckle out hunting, and I need you to do me a favor. Can you find Rattlepelt a few minutes after we leave and follow us?”

“Why would I do that?” Rustshade huffed.

“I’d feel bad if she didn’t get to see this,” Oilstripe admitted. “Carnation told me the reason she always asks for both of us to help her with her tasks is because she wants us to be mates. She should get to see Carnation’s reaction.” It took a moment for Rustshade’s mind to catch up with Oilstripe’s implication.

“You want to make your relationship official?” Rustshade hummed.

“I think it’s time,” Oilstripe said with a stiff nod.

“Stars right, it's about time!” Applepelt’s shimmering spirit cheered from the top of Shiprock. Oilstripe flinched as Applepelt chanted, “My friends are becoming mates! My friends are becoming mates!”

“More ghostly advice?” Rustshade asked, glancing in Applepelt’s direction. “If StarClan is excited for you, then I’m happy for you. I’ll bring Rattlepelt. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes, Dad,” Oilstripe said as the object of Oilstripe’s affections shifted in the corner of her eye. Carnationspeckle played with the kits outside the nursery, giving James a break (the ginger tom looked like he’d been tossed through a thunderstorm and dried with a bolt of lightning).

Palekit snuggled with James while Puddlekit and Waspkit tried to drag Carnationspeckle down.

“If you’re sure, you’re sure,” Rustshade hummed, spotting Carnationspeckle. “Good luck, Oilstripe.” Oilstripe shook the sand out of her pelt and marched up to the nursery. She only got part way to Carnationspeckle before tiny fangs dug into her ankle. Oilstripe yelped and stumbled forward. Ripplekit giggled underneath her, batting the long strands of fur that dangled from Oilstripe’s belly.

“She’s going to be good in a fight!” Carnationspeckle giggled.

“Are you too busy?” Oilstripe asked, trying to get Ripplekit out from under her. The quick kit kept darting back under her belly.

“It’s as though they feed on each other!” Carnationspeckle laughed as Lavenderkit appeared behind her and grabbed onto her tail. “They just keep going!”

“Sleep is for kits!” Lavenderkit yowled, jaw tight around Carnationspeckle’s tail.

“But we are kits,” Puddlekit pointed out, slipping off Carnationspeckle’s head.

“I can wait until you’re finished,” Oilstripe promised as the greedy little kit in her head screamed at the injustice of it all.

“I can watch the kits.” Downstar left her den, Duskkit hovering behind her. Downstar grabbed Waspkit by the scruff and lifted him off Carnationspeckle.

“Really?” Carnationspeckle said with wide eyes.

“I could use some time with the next generation,” Downstar chuckled. Duskkit trotted past Oilstripe with her tail held high. Oilstripe playfully flicked a paw at Duskkit while all eyes were on Downstar. Duskkit laughed and charged out of camp, vanishing with a twinkle.

“Downstar, Downstar!” Ripplekit cheered, pouncing on the tortoiseshell leader as she took Carnationspeckle’s spot outside the nursery. “Do you want to hear what Scrubmask taught me?”

“Please share,” Downstar purred. All five of Weedfoot’s kits swarmed Downstar while Carnationspeckle crept up to Oilstripe.

“Since you’re free now,” Oilstripe chuckled, licking her bitten ankle, “can we go hunting together? I found a patch of trees where the squirrels love to play.”

“Oh, alright,” Carnationspeckle purred, “but may I suggest we head to the ocean? I’d love to show you some of the diving techniques I’ve been practicing. I’m hoping to teach the kits what I can do once they’re apprenticed!”

“I don’t think I want to get wet right now,” Oilstripe admitted as Applepelt stuck their face between the pair. Their ethereal eyes sparkled as they bounced between Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle. Oilstripe tried to pretend she didn’t see her old friend and instead led Carnationspeckle toward the camp exit. As she did, however, she could see Rustshade speaking with Rattlepelt beside her tanning rack. Oilstripe forced back a purr.

It wouldn’t be long before sunhigh hit, but the dappled shade of the conifers kept Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle cool. The smell of prey blanketed the mossy floor, although large human tracks left deep prints in the warm dirt. Applepelt appeared and disappeared from between the tree, battering Oilstripe with wild rambles. Oilstripe could barely keep an eye on the prey with all of Applepelt’s cheering.

“I had a feeling you would get together,” Applepelt purred as Oilstripe stalked a pair of playful squirrels. “I don’t simply mean as long as I’ve been dead, either. I joined the Clan and saw you two together and knew you would be a wonderful pairing! Then again, I imagined I would be there to celebrate. I suppose in a way I am here, though. You’re simply the only one who can hear me celebrate!” Oilstripe pounced on one of the happy squirrels. Its partner scurried away as the unfortunate critter stopped squirming.

“I hereby bless this catch!” Applepelt laughed as Carnationspeckle trotted up.

“Applepelt, please, I can’t hear my own thoughts right now,” Oilstripe finally snapped, dropping her squirrel. “If you’re going to be here, can you watch from the side, quietly?”

“Applepelt’s here?” Carnationspeckle gasped. “Hello, Applepelt! I’ve missed you. I hope StarClan is treating you well.” Carnationspeckle guessed where Applepelt stood, but looked about a tail-length off from where the dead cat actually was.

“It is, thank you Carnationspeckle,” Applepelt purred, bowing slightly to her old friend.

“Stars, I’m sorry,” Oilstripe groaned. “It must be weird to hear me talking to the dead like this. I try not to when others are around.”

“I think it’s amazing that you can speak to StarClan as easily as you speak to me,” Carnationspeckle sighed. Applepelt’s face grew still and oddly serene as she stepped back. Copper and heather eyes glinted from the other side of the brush behind Carnationspeckle. “What do they talk to you about?”

“Well, typically they visit to check on those they’ve left behind,” Oilstripe explained, whiskers twitching. She licked drops of squirrel blood off her muzzle. “When I see them and I’m alone, I like to ask them about their lives. It’s not the sort of prophetic, supernatural knowledge they have to be careful with, so they’re happy to share their stories with me.”

“That must be wonderful, knowing what StarClan does in the territories like that,” Carnationspeckle hummed. She shifted awkwardly, glancing at where she thought Applepelt stood, and asked, “Do they talk about me at all? Do they watch over me?”

“As much as anyone else, I suppose,” Oilstripe admitted. She left her squirrel on the sun dappled grass and sat closer to Carnationspeckle.

“Do your ancestors visit you?” Carnationspeckle asked. “Rustshade’s parents, your littermates, Sunstrike?” Oilstripe rubbed a paw deeper into the grass.

“I haven’t seen Sunstrike at all,” Oilstripe muttered. “I don’t know where she is. Locustseeker and Twinekit don’t like to talk about her. I think she’s ignoring me.”

“Sometimes I feel the same way about StarClan as a whole,” Carnationspeckle sighed. Her fur drooped with her whiskers as she stared downwards. “I’ve been in RippleClan since the beginning, but I haven’t done anything amazing like you or Downstar or anyone else. I’ve just minded the camp. StarClan would rather put their efforts towards the heroes than the campbodies, I imagine.”

Oilstripe pressed her nose into the soft fluff of Carnationspeckle’s neck. The brown molly gasped softly as Oilstripe gently groomed her fur.

“You’re already a hero, Carnation,” Oilstripe assured her. “You don’t need to speak to ghosts or come back to life to be one. I’ve never met a kinder molly, or anyone I would rather share my life or nest with. That’s enough for me.” Carnationspeckle met Oilstripe’s eyes. She didn’t breathe.

“You want to be mates?” Carnationspeckle whispered.

“I already feel like your mate,” Oilstripe laughed, tucking her tail over Carnationspeckle’s, “so could we make it official? I want to put you first the way you put everyone else first.” Carnationspeckle nodded furiously as a soft whine built inside her.

“I would really like that,” Carnationspeckle cried. She pressed into Oilstripe as hard as she could. Oilstripe pressed back, wrapping around her new mate. Applepelt stood to the side, beaming like the brightest star in Silverpelt.

“Have fun, you two,” she chuckled. Oilstripe blinked, and all that remained of Applepelt was a shimmer of stardust dangling in the warm, still air.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Oilstripe laughed into Carnationspeckle’s ear, “but I had my father bring a witness. Come out, Rattlepelt.”

Carnationspeckle gasped and pulled away as Rattlepelt and Rustshade stepped out of the brush. Rattlepelt wore the fox pelt covering she and Rabbitjoy had collected from Wildclaw’s unfortunate victim moons ago, but it nearly fell off as Rattlepelt ran to Carnationspeckle.

“You’re going to be so happy together,” Rattlepelt purred, rubbing against Carnationspeckle. Carnationspeckle laughed through her joyful cries and groomed Rattlepelt’s face. Oilstripe joined in, sharing tongues with both of her new family members. Their deep purrs scared away any ghostly worries that swam through Oilstripe’s mind.

(Oilstripe: 40, female, historian, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Rustshade: 80, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Downstar: 95, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Duskkit: 4, female, kit, troublesome, quick witted)

(Applepelt: 31, she/they, historian, rebellious, lore keeper)

(Carnationspeckle: 38, female, caretaker compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(James: 112, male, caretaker, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Palekit: 2, male, kit, impulsive, picky nest builder)

(Waspkit: 2, male, kit, bossy, interested in clan history)

(Puddlekit: 2, male, kit, polite, morbid curiosity, oddly observant)

(Ripplekit: 2, male, kit, know-it-all, avid play-fighter, splashes in puddles)

(Lavenderkit: 2, male, kit, noisy, likes to sing)

(Rattlepelt: 19, female, artisan, fierce, leather artist)

Shadowdrop is happy to find his body finally pain free. Yet he watches Carnationspeckle’s celebration from afar, thinking of what could have been. Weedfoot tries to comfort him to no avail.

[Image ID: Weedfoot faces Shadowdrop, who watches a crowd surrounding Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle in the back. Under Shadowdrop, it says - CONDITION: BROKEN BONE. Under Weedfoot, it says - CONDITION: BLOOD LOSS.]

(Shadowdrop: 28, male, codekeeper, sneaky, good teacher, eloquent speaker)

(Weedfoot: 85, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

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