#yarrowshade

[clangenrising]

Month 14 - Newleaf

“Thank you all for coming,” Goldenstar said to the assembled warriors of RisingClan. “This should be quick.” Everyone had gathered at sunhigh to talk while the kits were sleeping. Even Sagetooth and Oddstripe were in attendance. The only cat missing was Songdust, whose absence hung heavy over the group like an ill omen.

Yarrowshade shrugged and said, “We’re happy to be here, Goldie.” She smiled and he grinned in return. It was good to see her smiling again. Beside her, Scorchplume’s tail was twined with hers, a development he had noticed a few days ago but said nothing about yet. Neither of them seemed to want to bring it up either so he left it alone.

“We all want to see the end of this war,” said Pantherhaze and the rest of the group concurred. Yarrowshade in particular couldn’t wait to pay the rogues back for all the grief they had caused him. His claws ached to sink into their fur. His skin itched for the satisfaction of a well-deserved wound.

“I’ve been discussing strategies with Scorchplume,” Goldenstar said, “and she thinks there’s a way we could manage to take Razor out of play, which would be huge.” 

“Yes,” Scorchplume said, less excited than Goldenstar was. “It’s risky though.”

“Risky is what we do,” Floodpaw purred proudly. Oddstripe clucked with worry. 

“Right,” said Goldenstar. “A risk with big pay off is way better than continuing to sit and wait. Go ahead.” 

“Alright,” sighed Scorch. Yarrowshade watched her shift uncomfortably and added another smack to the list of punishments he owed Razor. “When Smokyrose came to the city, they were discussing a peace agreement. Until Ghost arrived, it looked like he was going to arrange a one on one meeting with Goldenstar that he would use to ambush her and take out your leader.” 

A few cats shifted bitterly at the mention of Smokyrose. 

“The plan is to arrange that meeting,” Goldenstar said with a fiery conviction in her voice, “and then ambush him back.” 

“But it’s extremely dangerous,” Scorch cautioned. “Goldenstar will have to be basically alone with Razor for at least a few moments. If there are any mistakes, Goldenstar could die.” 

“I could lose a life,” Goldenstar admitted, “but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. As long as the rest of you come in to corner him, we should succeed.” Scorch chewed her lip, tail rippling irritably, and Yarrowshade realized that she still didn’t believe in Goldenstar’s nine lives. 

“I think it sounds like a solid course of action,” Sagetooth said. “I’ll consult StarClan but I think we should plan on going through with it.” 

“We should ask the other Clans too,” said Pantherhaze. “We only won the last battle because of their help. We could use it again.” 

“Yeah, we don’t know how many cats Razor will bring with him,” said Sparrowpaw. “Best to be prepared.”

“I agree,” Goldenstar said, “and I’m sure something this important will get Flightstar and Snowstar to agree to it. Scorchplume believes that Razor thinks I’m the Clans’ only leader, so I’ll also be the one meeting him and taking on all the risk.” Scorch shifted again.

“Just don’t take any unnecessary risks,” Oddstripe said. “I don’t want to have more of you injured than is necessary.” Sagetooth twitched her ear. 

“We’ll train in defensive combat strategies and cooperative fighting in preparation,” said Russetfrond, looking more like himself than he had over the last couple days. Yarrowshade had enjoyed how miserable Mystique’s pregnancy had made him at first but by now he was just glad that the deputy had stopped moping. It was unsettling - too unlike him.

“Good idea,” Goldenstar nodded. “Russetfrond and I will come up with a more decisive battle plan and share it with you all during training. Are there any other questions?” 

“What are we going to do about Songdust?” Floodpaw asked impatiently. Barleypaw nodded. Sparrowpaw looked at the ground. Pantherhaze and Ospreymask leaned forward for the answer.

Goldenstar shifted. “That’s a little more complicated…” 

“I know a cat or two who might be able to help,” Scorch said, “but there’s not much we can do without going into the city which we can’t really do with Razor in power like this.” 

“StarClan will protect her if they can,” Sagetooth said. “Defeating Razor is the first step. Then we can think about rescuing Songdust.” No one seemed satisfied with that answer, but Scorch was right. There wasn’t really anything they could do. 

After a moment or two of silence, Goldenstar said, “Alright then. Meeting adjourned. Everyone focus on preparing for the battle. May StarClan guide us.”

“May StarClan guide us,” said Sagetooth, Oddstripe, Barleypaw, and Pantherhaze’s staggered voices. The cats began to disperse. Yarrowshade picked himself up and moved to talk with Scorch and Goldenstar. 

“Hey, you guys wanna go train or something?” he asked. Goldenstar looked to Scorchplume.

“You two can go,” Scorch said. “I’m not going to go anywhere near Razor.” 

“Still, it can’t hurt to get some practice in, right?” Yarrowshade asked. She looked at him and he swore he could hear her thoughts, how irritating she found him, how much she hated him for ‘choosing Nightfrost.’

“Fine,” she said shortly. 

“Great,” Goldenstar laughed a little and Scorch shot her a subtle glare. “Or what if we scout out places for the meeting instead? That’s something you could help with.” 

“I suppose,” Scorchplume hummed, seeming more inclined to that idea. Yarrowshade couldn’t help but feel like she just liked Goldenstar’s ideas better than his. He swallowed tightly and tried not to look disappointed. 

“Sounds good to me,” he said brightly. “Let’s go.” 

They set out towards the southern border. The day was warm for the season, bright and sunny with a welcome breeze. Yarrowshade tilted his face to the sun and tried to enjoy the warmth of it. 

“How’ve you been, by the way?” asked Goldenstar.

He tilted his head in her direction. “Good, I guess.” Lonely. “I’ve missed hanging out with you two though.” 

“Same, honestly,” Goldenstar said, leaning into Scorchplume’s side. “I can’t wait for all this business to be over so things can go back to normal.” 

“Normal is extremely relative,” Scorch hummed. “I for one am sick of normal.”

“We’ll just have to make a new normal then,” Yarrowshade tried, offering her a smile. She raised her brows at him but said nothing. He tried not to frown. 

“Scorch,” Goldenstar said softly. “He’s trying. Be nice to him.” Yarrowshade blushed at being called out like that. Was he so obvious? Scorch scowled at Goldenstar but there was no malice in her gaze. 

“I’ll do what I please,” she huffed.

“I know,” purred Goldenstar, “but you guys used to be good friends right? I don’t see the point in holding onto a grudge when you could just get along again.”

“Look,” Yarrowshade cut in, fur prickling in discomfort, “if it helps; I’m sorry for whatever I did.”

“Whatever you did?” Scorch raised her brows even higher somehow. 

“Yes?” he winced. This felt like a trap. 

“What was that, exactly?” Scorch asked. Goldenstar was mouthing something but he was terrible at reading lips. 

“For…” Yarrowshade hesitated. He had to find the correct answer. “For not choosing you?” There was a moment of silence where Scorch sized him up and he and Goldenstar held their breath. 

Then Scorch said, “Apology accepted.” Both Yarrowshade and Goldenstar sighed in relief. Scorch flicked her ear in annoyance. 

But after that, things were alright. Yarrowshade brought up a funny story from hunting with Barleypaw the other day and the others laughed. Scorch poked fun at him with an easy smile rather than a cold, defensive one. Goldenstar wouldn’t stop purring. He still felt like he was walking on thin ice, but at least for now Scorch was finding him entertaining. That was all he wanted, really. 

Discussion moved on to talk about how Barleypaw and her littermates would be warriors in a moon or two. Goldenstar expressed being nervous about her first real warrior ceremony as leader and Scorch and Yarrowshade told her she had nothing to worry about. From there, they started talking about Slatekit and Fogkit and their upcoming ceremony. 

“I still don’t know who should mentor Fogkit,” said Goldenstar as they paused to examine the sightlines on one hill. “I think I have Slatekit settled but Fogkit doesn’t like Ospreymask anymore and I’m not sure who else could mentor her.” 

“She’s a pawful, isn’t she?” Yarrowshade chuckled. “Yesterday I caught her ‘crafting curses’ out of claw sheds and bird bones.” 

“Crafting curses?” Scorch said skeptically. 

“Yeah,” shrugged Yarrowshade. “I don’t know where she got the idea but she said she was trying to curse the rogues to death.” He shook his head. “I’m honestly glad I already have Barleypaw cause I don’t think I would want to try and untangle that whole mess.” 

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” Goldenstar said. “I would take her myself but I’ve already got Floodpaw.”

“You can’t just take every apprentice who seems like they’ll be a pawful,” Scorch huffed. 

“Is that a challenge?” Goldenstar teased and Scorch rolled her eyes. 

“Look, if it’s really such a predicament, just give her to me.” 

Yarrowshade and Goldenstar fell into stunned silence. 

“What?” Scorch bristled defensively. “Is that so outlandish?”

“No, no,” Goldenstar said quickly, a smile spreading across her face, “I just didn’t expect you to want an apprentice! I mean, it’s a pretty big commitment.” 

“Does that mean you’re staying?” Yarrowshade asked excitedly. 

Scorch swished her tail back and forth, puffing up like a ginger pigeon. “For now,” she said. “By the time I leave, Floodpaw will be a warrior and then Goldenstar can take over her training.” 

Yarrowshade cocked a brow, smirking. “I don’t buy it.” 

Goldenstar was grinning like an idiot. “Oh, Scorch!” she purred, butting her head into Scorchplume’s shoulder. “I love you so much!”

“That’s it!” Scorch said, putting both paws on Goldenstar’s face and shoving her away. “I’m actually leaving right now and throwing myself in the river.” 

“Wait, no!” wailed Goldenstar through laughter. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to use the forbidden word!” She threw herself at Scorch’s feet and clung to her like a needy kitten. Scorch huffed a laugh through her nose. 

“Please, your excellence,” she said, pretending to be scandalized, “you forget yourself.” Goldenstar laughed, chest thrumming with an uncontrollable purr. 

Yarrowshade swallowed thickly. Grief, unexpected and overwhelming, flooded his mind as he watched them joke and flirt. Neither of them seemed to notice and he was grateful for it. He carefully turned away and started down the far side of the hill, breathing slowly through his nose to try and stop himself from tearing up. 

Get it together, Yarrowshade, he thought to himself. This was such a stupid thing to cry over! He wasn’t going to let them see him like this. 

“Look,” Scorch said smugly, “your pathetic displays have scared off Yarrowshade.”

“Ah!” Goldenstar cried, still laughing, “Yarrowshade, wait! I’m sorry!”

He paused and let out one last breath before forcing the frown off of his face. “I think this hill is too exposed,” he said, glancing back at them. “Maybe we should try somewhere with trees?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Goldenstar had gotten to her feet and was halfway to him, Scorch trailing behind. Both of them looked so happy it hurt to watch.

“Do you think Orangestar would let us hold the meeting on EarthClan territory?” he asked, looking away. He focused his eyes on the trees up ahead and tried to pretend that he was fine. 

“Maybe!” Goldenstar said. “I’ll bring it up at the Gathering.” 

“Hmm,” Scorch chewed her lip. “Could we take a look anyway or would that be inappropriate.” 

“I’m not sure,” Goldenstar said.

“Probably best to wait for permission,” Yarrowshade said. 

“Yeahhhh,” Goldenstar sighed. “Oh well. Why don’t we catch some lunch and head back?” 

“Sounds good to me,” said Scorch. 

“Yeah,” Yarrowshade turned back to them, smiling again even if it felt a little forced. “I’d love that.”

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Goldenstar #Yarrowshade #Pantherhaze #Sagetooth #Oddstripe #Scorchplume #Floodpaw #Sparrowpaw #Russetfrond #Newleaf #Clangenrising

[floofyboi57]

Their friendship means so much to me

Characters are Yarrowshade and Scorchplume, who belong to @clangenrising

#risingclan #I gave yarrowshade a tooth gap #and scorch an eyebrow slit #cause it felt fitting #and i have no self control #tw eye contact

[rosethorn-zz]

some more oc refs

#my art #oc: whiteflash #oc: rainbee #oc: yarrowshade #oc: ripper #oc: birdsong #oc: ivytail #ocs: thrown to the pack #warriors #warrior cats #warriors oc #warrior cats oc #cat oc #original character

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

also @ambitiousauthor inspired me so I'm going to give descriptions and would-be warrior names for all of Webstripe's kit victims:

Redflower x Darkfrost

Wolfkit: dark gray, almost black tom with an unusually long nose and yellow eyes (warrior name: Wolfnose)

Birchkit: cream tabby tom with amber eyes (warrior name: Birchleaf)

Reedkit: light ginger she-cat with yellow eyes (warrior name: Reedsong)

Briarclaw x Firefeather

Applekit: long-haired ginger she-cat with a white chest patch, white tail tip, and green eyes (warrior name: Appleflower)

Sootkit: long-haired dark gray tom with blue eyes (warrior name: Sootbreeze)

Beetlekit: dark brown tabby tom with yellow eyes (warrior name: Beetleblaze)

Thistletail/star x Sunnyheart:

Yarrowkit: long haired pale tortoiseshell she-cat with light green eyes (warrior name: Yarrowshade)

Dustkit: small gray tom with brown paws and amber eyes (warrior names: Duststep)

Larkkit: red tabby she-cat with amber eyes (warrior name: Larkwing)

These are all so good!!

f you Webstripe!!

#webstripe #wc #thistletail #sunnyheart

[clangenrising]

Month 13 - Newleaf

Russetfrond sat perched at the top of the cornerstones, tail tip twitching slightly. He watched as Mystique and Yarrowshade crept through the foliage on opposite sides of a pair of squirrels. More accurately, he watched Mystique with a hawk eyed glare. At Goldenstar’s insistence, she had started joining hunting patrols over the last few days and he was there for every one of them. He didn’t trust anyone else to keep an eye on her. 

She moved softly through the undergrowth, somehow managing not to cause a single noise from her bell collar, her long blue coat brushing just above the leaves. She stopped a couple fox-lengths away from the squirrels and waited for Yarrowshade to move into place and, as she did, she cast her gaze up to Russetfrond. He scowled and she smiled and his scowl deepened. He wished she would stop smiling at him all the time. As if she could read his thoughts, she smirked and shook her head. 

Yarrowshade had moved into position. Mystique wiggled her haunches and then lunged forward, scuffing her paws noisily through the pine needles and leaf litter, a laugh burbling up from her chest. The squirrels panicked and fled straight into Yarrowshade’s waiting claws. He pounced on the smaller of them and snapped its neck in his teeth. The other squirrel veered off course and raced up a nearby tee. Mystique bounded after it and her paws were on the trunk when Russetfrond spoke up.

“Leave it,” he ordered. 

“Oh, come on…” she complained, tearing her claws down the bark. “I could have caught it!”

“Exactly,” he frowned. “You still don’t get it.” 

“Right,” she rolled her eyes, “I forgot there were a bunch of arbitrary rules about what prey you can and can't catch.” She sharpened her claws on the tree trunk for another second or two and then pushed off the trunk with a huff. 

“It’s not arbitrary,” Yarrowshade said. “We’re trying to preserve next year’s hunt. If we killed every squirrel we found there would be no squirrels next year and we’d all starve.” 

“Okay, but why not catch the fat one?” Mystique said. “Won’t that feed more cats?” 

“It was probably pregnant,” he shrugged, licking prey blood from his lips. “It’s that time of year. We let it go, that means more squirrels later on.” 

“I guess I see your point,” sighed the kittypet. Russetfrond huffed to himself and she looked up at him, nose scrunched petulantly. She even stuck her tongue out. He lashed his tail, hoping he had managed to come off as irritated rather than flustered. He hated how she got under his skin like that, especially with such childish behavior. 

“I think we’ve got a pretty good catch,” Yarrowshade said, unaware as usual. “Why don’t you grab the bird you caught earlier and we can head back.” 

“Aww, I wanna stay out,” she said. “The camp is so stuffy!” 

“Too bad,” said Russetfrond. He rose and bounded down the sloping side of the Cornerstones. The rough, mossy stone felt comforting under his paws and he imagined himself leaving a Gathering like this, leader of his Clan descending from the place of highest honor, walking in his mother’s pawsteps. It was a comforting fantasy, off put somewhat by coming down to be face to face with Mystique. 

“Come on, please?” she asked.

“Does that work on cats in the city?” he scowled back. 

“Sometimes,” she pressed her ears back against her head. 

“Just grab your damn bird,” he sighed. Yarrowshade was already heading off towards the border and he didn’t want them to fall too far behind. Mystique gave a beleaguered groan but went and fetched the bird from where they had stashed it without further complaint. 

They padded through the trees in silence until they reached the outskirts where the trees started to thin. The river stretched out in front of them. It was deep and fast near the SkyClan border but widened and grew shallow as it flowed towards EarthClan. Mystique brightened when she saw it, like she did every time, and her tail started to wave above her back.

“Ooh, maybe we could take a swim?” she suggested.

“Uh, no thanks,” Yarrowshade laughed. 

Mystique leaned in to bump her shoulders against his. “What, you afraid of a little water, Yare Bear?” Russetfrond grimaced. 

“I’m not afraid,” said Yarrowshade, fur puffing up. “I just don’t like getting wet.”

“What are you talking about?” Mystique said. “Getting wet is the best feeling in the world.” Russetfrond couldn’t help but huff a little laugh through his nose at the phrasing. Mystique glanced over at him and smirked. “See, Bee Face gets it.” 

“Don’t include me in this,” he said, a touch of humor still lingering. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about that.” 

Mystique laughed, loud and bright. “Wow! Big self-own from Bee Face.” 

Yarrowshade looked puzzled. “W- Oh, stars, are you two flirting?” He rolled his eyes. Both Russetfrond and Mystique turned to scowl at him. 

“No,” snapped Russetfrond. 

“Gross,” said Mystique. 

“And besides,” continued Russetfrond, “if we were, you’re the last person who gets to complain. I can’t count the times I’ve had to suffer through your painful attempts at flirtation.” Yarrowshade bristled sourly. 

“Ooh!” Mystique’s gaze sharpened with interest. “Are you a little Romeo, Yare Bear?” 

“Don’t call me that,” Yarrowshade said, casting his face away uncomfortably. 

“What, Romeo or Yare Bear?” Mystique asked. 

“All of it,” Yarrowshade grumbled. “It’s weird.” 

“I dunno,” hummed Russetfrond, “I think it’s growing on me. Maybe I’ll start calling you Yare Bear.” Mystique chortled. 

“Ew,” Yarrowshade grimaced like he’d stepped in crowfood, “Stop it, man.” 

“Stop what, Yare Bear?” smiled Russetfrond. 

“Yeah, what’s wrong, Yare Bear?” asked Mystique, poorly hiding her laughter. 

“I’m serious!” Yarrowshade hissed, “Stop it!” He sounded so much like a whiny apprentice that Russetfrond couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Oh, come on,” he said, “have a thicker hide than that.” 

“Yeah, we’re just poking fun,” said Mystique. 

“Whatever,” Yarrowshade scowled, his tail lashing. They reached the river shore and Yarrowshade angrily leapt to the first of the mossy crossing stones they had used on their way over. When he jumped to the next, his paw slid off of the slick moss and the river drenched his back half as he scrambled not to fall in entirely. Mystique fell over cackling and Russetfrond bit his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud. Her laughter was infectious even without the added hilarity of Yarrowshade’s predicament. 

Yarrowshade turned back, fur fluffed up in all directions except where it clung wetly to his skin, cheeks bright red in embarrassment. He seemed to growl tightly around the squirrel in his jaws. Silently fuming, he turned and quickly finished crossing, then dashed off into the grass without them. 

“Wait!” Russetfrond tried but he couldn’t stop the laughter tinging his voice and he knew that Yarrowshade was long gone. He sighed, shook his head, and looked over to Mystique who had rolled onto her back, overwhelmed by her own laughter. The bird lay beside her, forgotten. 

“What a dork!” she snorted. “Is he always like that?” 

“Pretty much,” Russetfrond said. 

“Man, it’s almost too easy!” She stood up and stepped into the river, ignoring the crossing stones. 

“Hey, don’t forget your catch,” Russetfrond’s scowl returned. 

“I’ll grab it in a minute,” she said, wading deeper into the river. “I wanna cool off for a sec.” 

“We’re going back to camp,” he said stubbornly. “Stop fooling around.” 

“Oh, you like it when I fool around,” she scoffed. 

“I do not,” he puffed up slightly with indignation. 

“Do too,” she said back. By now she was sinking into the river to douse her back. 

“Ah, the pinnacle of eloquence,” he droned sarcastically. 

“You know it,” she purred. She dunked her head under the water briefly and tossed it back, sending glittery droplets flying in a perfect arc. Russetfrond was ashamed at the way his throat tightened. 

“Get out,” he snapped, “We’re going back to camp now.” 

“Make me,” she smirked, looking over at him. He stared, dumbfounded. Was she really going to risk injury or getting banned from patrols over a few minutes in a river? Her grin only widened at his reaction. “You can’t, can you?” 

“Of course I can,” he said, leaping to the first of the crossing stones. 

“Yeah?” she challenged, silky fur swirling around her as she turned to face him. “I bet you can’t.” 

Russetfrond shifted his weight to make sure he was steady on his stepping stone before he tried to reach out and snag her by the scruff. She dipped into the water and let it carry her backwards, out of his reach. 

“Nuh-uh-uh,” she clucked, “You’re gonna have to get wet if you wanna stop me.” He growled one paw held to his chest as he considered her words. It looked like she was right. He didn’t enjoy getting wet but he didn’t hate it either, it was the aftermath that he hated, the chilly evaporation and the hours of grooming. Still, he wasn’t one to shirk an unpleasant task. Carefully, he adjusted himself for a jump, calculating the best place to land and making sure that he wasn’t about to faceplant or slip on a stone. Mystique watched him intently, hovering lightly on her paws with all but her head in the water. 

A moment, then another, and then Russetfrond jumped, landing on top of her with an enormous splash. She sank to get out from under him but he lunged and snagged her collar in his teeth. With a sharp tug, he yanked her to the surface. She gasped for air and reared up onto her hind legs, suddenly lifting him. She was taller than him, imposingly so on her hind legs, and he realized a second too late that he should have let go. 

She slammed forward, topping him backwards into the water, and her weight forced him to the bottom of the river. He realized suddenly that he was in danger. She had much better control in the water than he did. Had this all been a cunning ploy to drown her guard and get away? Adrenaline suddenly spiked through him and he lashed out with his hind claws. Her thick, unshed coat tangled his claws but the force of the kick landed in her gut and she quickly backed off of him. He spun to get his feet underneath him and burst from the water, gasping, then rounded on her, prepared for a counter attack. 

He wasn’t ready for the worried expression she was wearing.

“Are you alright?” she asked, sounding genuine. He coughed a little and scowled at her, not yet ready to ease out of his battle stance. 

“I’m sorry, I thought we were just messing around,” she continued, “I didn’t realize you couldn’t swim.” 

“I can swim,” he said, feeling the embarrassment of his fizzling adrenaline rising to his cheeks. “I just- I thought you were pulling something.” 

“Oh,” she sat down, face blank. Her lack of reaction made him even more embarrassed. Teeth gritted, he stomped out to the other side of the river and shook to get the water out of his ears. 

“Grab the bird and let’s go,” he growled. “I’m done wasting time.” 

“Yeah, okay,” she said limply. She sailed easily through the water, back to the far shore, and grabbed the bird, then slipped back into the water like a duck and pulled herself across. Russetfrond couldn’t understand how a cat could look so at home in water. Kittypets, he thought sourly. 

“Thank you,” he grunted. “Let’s go already.” 

“Yeah, okay,” she said, ears drooped. It was unsettling to him to see her this way. The sooner they got back to camp and he could stop thinking about her, the better. He picked up the pace through the grass, following Yarrowshade’s trail and trying not to shiver. 

After a while, Mystique said, “Hey, sorry about that. I promise I’m not gonna like… murder you.” 

“Why would you promise that?” he glared back at her. 

She frowned in surprise. “Uh, cause I’m not a monster?” 

“We’re enemies,” he said harshly. “What if your brother storms the camp and we’re forced to fight? You’re saying you wouldn’t raise your claws to defend your family?” 

“I’d probably try and stop the fighting,” she snapped as if he were being irrational. “I don’t have to choose between killing you or killing my brother.” 

“You might,” he said. 

“No way,” she insisted. “It’s unrealistic to say those are my only choices.” 

“That’s the kind of thinking that got Smokyrose killed,” he snarled, turning on her. She bristled and flattened backward. “You’re naive if you think Razor will give you another option.” She swallowed, searched his face, and he turned his head sharply away. He couldn’t stand that expression on her face. Without another word he stomped back to camp, only pausing to make sure she was behind him. She followed and for that he was grateful. She didn’t speak again and the walk back was stiff and silent. 

When they returned he assigned someone to guard her and went to clean his fur on top of the Stoneperch. Why did he feel betrayed somehow? It wasn’t even the fight that upset him, it was how she had gone all soft and quiet like a kicked dog. That was the part that upset him the most and it didn’t make any sense. He hoped that Goldenstar would do something about Mystique soon ‘cause he wasn’t sure how much longer he could put up with her.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #clangenrising #Mystique #Russetfrond #Yarrowshade #Newleaf

[clangenrising]

Month 13 - Newleaf

“Still no sign of them,” Pantherhaze said sadly. “Russetfrond and Sparrowpaw are still out there waiting though.” 

Goldenstar sighed. The longer they waited, the clearer it became that Smokyrose and Songdust were in serious trouble. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much they could do but wait. They had no idea where the missing cats were and the chances that anyone she sent would also go missing were just too high. She couldn’t in good conscience send her warriors into such a dangerous situation and so she was forced to sit and hope that the two old she-cats would find their ways back home. 

“Alright,” she said. “Thank you, Pantherhaze.” 

“Of course,” he said. Dipping his head, he slipped off to get a meal and left her alone at the foot of the Stoneperch. She closed her eyes and let the cold night wash her with melancholy. She tried to think about what Sunstar would do in this situation but that only led her to the conclusion that Sunstar would be storming the city single-pawed to get her sister back and Goldenstar would be forced to try and stop her. She almost wished it was that easy for her, that she had a good enough excuse to storm blindly into trouble. Then at least she wouldn’t have to agonize over the choice to do nothing. 

A strange scent blew down into camp on the wind, vanilla mixed with thunderpath and twolegs. Her fur bristled and she snapped towards it, mouth open. Had an attack finally come to their camp? The scent wasn’t strong enough to be too many cats. Her ears strained towards the sound, hoping for more details. 

“I’m just saying, he started it,” said a stranger’s voice, causing Goldenstar’s tail to brush up.

Then Russetfrond’s voice set her slightly at ease. “What are you, six weeks old?” 

“Enough!” Goldenstar’s heart leapt at the sound of a third, impossibly familiar voice. “You’re both very cute and funny and smart. Can we please give it a rest?” A pair of mismatched ears crested the slope and then there was Scorch, strolling into camp like nothing had happened, a perfect scowl on her perfect face. 

“Scorchplume!” Goldenstar was halfway across camp before she knew what was happening. 

“What?!” she heard Yarrowshade shout from inside the warriors’ den. 

Scorch had stopped in her tracks wearing a blank expression. Goldenstar stopped too. Was Scorch still upset with her? Oh, Stars, she hoped not. She was wearing a little blue collar with a little star shaped charm. Her blue eyes seemed to glow in the fading twilight as she licked her lips apprehensively. 

“Scorch!” Yarrowshade had burst out of the warriors’ den and bounded up past Goldenstar to butt his head against hers, a deep purr thrumming in his chest. Scorch stiffened but leaned into the touch. With the spell of her gaze broken, Goldenstar suddenly noticed the large blue she-cat looming close behind wearing a collar of her own and a suspicious glare. Cats were starting to gather, whispering amongst themselves, and the kittypet looked like she was trying to size all of them up.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Yarrowshade laughed. “What happened to you?” 

Scorch let out a small, frustrated noise from her throat, like she tried to speak but no words came out. “It’s a long and complicated story,” she ended up saying. Turning to look at the kittypet, she added, “This is Mystique. She helped me escape.” 

“I feel like ‘escape’ is a bit much,” the cat said. 

“No, it’s quite accurate,” Scorch said, looking back at Goldenstar. The leader’s breath suddenly froze in her chest. “Smokyrose is dead.” 

“What?” Russetfrond snapped, suddenly tensing up again. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?” 

“How do you know?” Yarrowshade asked.

Scorch pursed her lips and glared back at Russetfrond. “I told you I wanted to find Goldenstar before I started talking, remember?” She ignored Yarrowshade. 

“Right,” said Goldenstar, jolted out of her paralysis. “Why don't you come sit and tell us what you have to share.” She swept her tail towards the center of camp. As much as she probably ought to pull Scorch into her den for a more private briefing, she knew that everyone was going to be starving for details and that it would be faster if they all just heard them now instead of asking her for them one by one. 

“Thank you,” Scorch sighed, shoulders slacking. “Mystique and I are both very hungry as well. Would it be alright if we ate?” 

“Of course,” Goldenstar said immediately. 

Russetfrond growled. “We shouldn’t be sharing prey with the enemy, Goldenstar.” 

“She brought one of our warriors home,” she replied. “At least for tonight, she’s a guest.” Russetfrond huffed disapprovingly but didn’t protest any further. Mystique shot him the smuggest grin. Oh, dear, Goldenstar thought. Those two are going to be a pawful. 

A moment later, everyone who was awake was gathered around Scorch and Mystique who had been given a mouse each. Mystique seemed unsure how to approach the prey at first but once Scorch started eating she quickly followed suit. Everyone gave them a few beats to eat despite the palpable curiosity in the air. 

Russetfrond eventually broke the silence. “What do you know about Smokyrose and Songdust?” 

Scorch swallowed and straightened her posture authoritatively. “Smokyrose is dead. She and Songdust showed up to try and barter peace two days ago but Razor found out that she and Ghost were intertwined and killed her for it.” Mystique glanced at her with a frown but refrained from interrupting, focused instead on finishing her meal. 

“Because she wasn’t from the city?” Goldenstar asked in shock. She’d heard old stories about tyrannical leaders killing the cross-clan mates of their warriors before. She wondered if Razor was a kittypet purist. 

“Not exactly,” Scorch said. “He and Ghost are not on good terms right now. Razor killed her just to spite him.” Her tail lashed once but Goldenstar could see the burning anger underneath her calm and collected facade. Floodpaw reflected that anger, tail lashing back and forth as he sat on the edge of the meeting with his littermates. 

“That’s horrible!” Ospreymask said. 

“Poor Smokyrose…” mumbled Pantherhaze, looking at his paws. 

“What about Songdust?” Pressed Russetfrond. 

“She escaped,” Mystique volunteered. “Nobody’s seen her since.” 

“Nobody?” Branchbark frowned. 

“Nobody who will say anything at least,” shrugged Mystique. 

“Snake guts,” Yarrowshade cursed, staring through the dirt with wide, overwhelmed eyes. Beside him, Pantherhaze shut his eyes and whispered a prayer under his breath. 

“Okay, well that’s good,” Goldenstar said, trying to focus on the positive. “That means she’s probably safe.” 

“So why hasn’t she come home?” Ospreymask asked. 

“There’s a chance she’s been caught by the humans,” Scorchplume said, licking the last traces of her mouse from her lips. “If they’ve got her she’ll be in a place the city cats call a Judgement House.”

“Oh, that’s not scary at all,” Yarrowshade muttered. 

Scorch continued, “They’ll decide if she’s Chaff or if she’ll become Exalted - what you would call a kittypet. If she’s Chaff, she’ll be back on the street after about four days. If she’s not then it could take moons.” 

“Seriously?” Ospreymask scoffed. “Why?” 

“I don’t know,” Scorch shrugged. “I got taken home by a human after a week.” 

“So you were in one of these ‘Judgement Houses’?” Goldenstar asked. The idea sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what such a place would look like. 

“Yes,” Scorch twitched an ear. “It’s not important though. What is important is that the city cats are preparing to step up their attack. They’re going to keep starving you out but on top of that they’re training the Chaff to fight so they can send strike teams to pick your patrols off one by one.” Goldenstar noticed Mystique shifting uneasily, eyes darting over the scowling warriors around her.

“If they fight anything like the cats we fought before, they won’t stand a chance,” Floodpaw declared, puffing up his chest. 

“Shush,” Goldenstar said and he deflated, ears flopping backwards.

“It doesn’t matter if they do,” Scorch said. “There are a lot more Chaff in the city than there are Clan cats and the Exalted won’t have a problem with throwing them at you until you’re overwhelmed. It’s not a matter of if they wipe you out, it’s a matter of when.” Goldenstar swallowed. 

“So what do we do?” Branchbark asked. 

“Run?” Scorch said. “I told you, there’s no winning with Razor. Your best chance is to leave and live to fight another day.”

“No way,” Russetfrond growled. 

“That’s been discussed and discarded already,” Goldenstar said. “The Clans would never agree to it.” 

“I thought Snowstar was willing to help us relocate on the other side of the mountains,” said Yarrowshade. 

“Yes,” Goldenstar winced, “but I doubt we’d be able to convince SkyClan and FallenClan to come with us. Besides, we already decided that we weren’t going to abandon our home.” 

“Goldenstar, how many times do I have to tell you,” Scorchplume’s claws sank into the grass, “there is no other way! If you stay here you’ll all die. That’s that.” 

Goldenstar bit her lip, unable to hold back the disappointment overwhelming her. She’d hoped that if she ever saw Scorch again that there would be a tearful reunion, not a bitter argument. She shuffled a bit, aware that the eyes of her Clan were on her. Whatever she said next would have weight.

“I know you believe that,” she said and she saw Scorch scowl defensively. Quickly, she added, “I’m not saying you’re crazy, I’m just saying I have to make sure there isn’t another course of action before we resort to something that drastic.” 

“We should ask StarClan,” Ospreymask suggested. “They led us to victory during the snowstorm! They can do it again!”

“Of course they did,” Scorch scoffed, rolling her eyes as she looked away. Goldenstar wanted to scream. They had! Scorch had somehow managed to be gone right when StarClan gave them definitive proof of their existence. It was infuriating. 

“I’ll plan a visit to the River,” she said instead. “We’ll see what guidance they can provide.” 

“What about you?” Branchbark said to Mystique. “What do you think we should do?” 

The kittypet sat up, ears flicking back uncomfortably, and she looked around at them with an uneasy grimace. “Me?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “You helped Scorchplume. You can’t be all that bad. We have kits and elders here who are in danger and we’ll fight to defend them but we don’t want to kill your cats any more than we want you to kill ours.”

“Sure,” scoffed Mystique. “I’ve heard about how you swarmed the hunting party and slaughtered Sycamore.” 

“He was going to kill Floodpaw,” Ospreymask said, voice sharp and clipped. Floodpaw squirmed in embarrassment. 

Branchbark tried again. “We were just trying to defend our homes and our loved ones. I’m sure you understand that, right?” Mystique nodded after a beat. “So what do you think we should do? You know the city cats better than we do. What’s the best way forward for everyone?” Goldenstar raised her brows, impressed. Branchbark was sharp as a thorn, as usual. All eyes turned to Mystique, waiting for her answer. Scorch in particular seemed invested in what she had to say.

“Well…” the big blue she-cat swallowed, a frown tugging at her lips. “My brother is a stubborn cat. He wants the wild territories and he’s probably not going to give up any time soon.” 

“Your brother?” Russetfrond glared. 

“Razor,” Scorch said tightly. Everyone bristled. 

“What?!” Yarrowshade was on his feet.

“The kits are sleeping!” Ospreymask hissed at him.

“How could you bring her here?!” Russetfrond accused Scorch. “Weren’t you thinking?!”

“I did what I had to do,” Scorch snarled, voice dripping with a venom Goldenstar had never heard before. “Don’t you dare lecture me!” Mystique had pulled back into a defensive crouch, tail twitching in grim anticipation of a fight.

“Everyone calm down,” Goldenstar stood as well, trying to speak authoritatively without raising her volume too much. “Blood isn’t everything. She’s done nothing but help us so far, we’re not going to turn on her because of her brother’s actions.” Yarrowshade glared at her for a second before sitting down again. Russetfrond didn’t move, locked in a staring contest with Scorchplume. 

“He’s really not so bad…” Mystique said weakly. 

“Have you ever heard him talk?” Yarrowshade laughed bitterly. 

“Didn’t he kill Smokyrose over a petty grudge?” said Ospreymask. 

“He’s the worst kind of monster there is,” Scorch growled, still squinting furiously at Russetfrond. “He takes just to take and he’s cruel without cause. But Mystique isn’t like him.” She glanced over at the kittypet. “She may be a little obtuse but she means well.”

“Okay, ouch,” Mystique said defensively. Scorch opened her mouth like she was going to continue then pursed her lips and looked away again. 

“Maybe we should have this conversation in the morning,” suggested Pantherhaze. “I think some sleep would do everyone some good.” 

“I suppose I could stay the night,” Mystique mumbled. 

“Oh, you’ll stay longer than that,” growled Russetfrond. Looking at Goldenstar, he said, “She knows where our camp is, what our numbers are, what we plan to do. She can’t go back to the city.” 

“Hold on!” Mystique rose to her paws, causing Russetfrond, Yarrowshade, Ospreymask, and Floodpaw to do the same. “You can’t keep me here!” 

“We can do whatever we like,” Russetfrond hissed, back arching. Goldenstar felt the situation quickly slipping away from her. 

“Look,” she said, “he has a point. It would be extremely unwise to let you return to the others. You’ll have to stay here, at least for a while. I’m really sorry.” Mystique’s mouth fell open, dumbfounded. 

“The elder’s den is empty now,” Russetfrond said, lowering back into a calmer posture. “We can keep her there. I’ll take first watch and then organize a rotation tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Goldenstar agreed. “Try not to provoke her too much, okay?” He grunted in reluctant affirmation. 

“Great,” glowered Mystique, “can’t someone else be my jailer?”

“Think of him more as your personal bodyguard,” Scorch smiled. The smug tone of her voice and the way that Mystique’s expression became suddenly guilty told Goldenstar there was some kind of personal meaning there she wasn’t aware of. 

“Besides,” Scorch continued, standing and swishing her tail in a beautiful arc, “It’s not like you can go home. Once Razor finds out you stole his precious little bird you’ll be public enemy number one.”

Mystique’s face fell, horror dawning behind her eyes. “Wait…”

 “You didn’t think about that, did you?” Scorch huffed a laugh through her nose. “Well, you’ll have plenty of time to think about it now.” 

“Come on,” Russetfrond said, stepping closer. “Let’s go.” Mystique stared at Scorch for another beat then slowly rose to her paws and let Russetfrond corral her into the empty elders’ den. Goldenstar’s throat seized guiltily.

“Sparrowpaw,” she called.

“Yes?” He straightened his posture attentively. 

“Get her some water and fresh bedding, alright?” 

“Yes, Goldenstar,” Sparrowpaw nodded and hurried off to do so. 

“Better than she deserves,” Floodpaw grumbled. 

Goldenstar shot him a stern look. “Shush. Don’t you have dawn patrol tomorrow? Go to bed.”

“Fine…” he sighed, trudging back to the apprentices’ den beside Barleypaw. Branchbark and Pantherhaze slipped into the warriors’ den. Ospreymask went back to the top of the hill to resume her night watch. Goldenstar and Yarrowshade were left with Scorch, a quiet tension hanging between them. Goldenstar decided to break the silence sooner rather than later. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” she said softly. 

“Yeah,” said Yarrowshade, “me too.”

Scorch shifted. The mask that Goldenstar had spent moons trying to loosen was back in place, tightly affixed to her features. Goldenstar felt it, like a wound in her own throat. When Scorch spoke, she sounded casual in a way that Goldenstar knew was calculated. 

“We’ll see how long I stick around,” she shrugged. “You may want to stay and get murdered but I’ll be long gone before then.” 

“C’mon, you don’t mean that,” Yarrowshade frowned. 

Goldenstar stepped forward, quickly saying, “Whatever you choose to do, we’ll understand.” Yarrowshade’s frown turned on her and she shot him a scowl in reply. 

“Right,” Scorch said. “Of course.” 

Yarrowshade glanced at her then ducked away. “Um, I’m off to bed,” he mumbled. “See you tomorrow.” He slunk away, tail brushing the ground. Goldenstar thought she caught a sliver of a frown on Scorch’s face but it was gone immediately. 

“I’m sorry about him,” she said. 

Scorch hummed noncommittally. 

“So…” she said, her stomach writhing like a pit of snakes. “You were a kittypet.” She glanced at the collar and Scorch followed her gaze, seemingly surprised to see it. 

“Oh, yeah, I was,” she said. “I’d love to get this thing off though.” 

“Let me help you,” Goldenstar stepped closer then stopped, waiting for Scorch to close the rest of the distance. There was a pause and then she did. 

“It’s not that tight,” she said. “I think you could probably pull it off without too much trouble.” 

“Let me see,” Goldenstar breathed, leaning in to inspect it. She tested the thing in her teeth, pulled at it, then said, “Uh, duck your head?” Scorch complied and she leaned over to grab it from the back. As her teeth brushed Scorch’s scruff, she felt Scorch’s entire body stiffen in fear, smelled the sweat forming on her paw pads. It scared her. Quickly, she hooked her teeth around the collar and pulled, wiggling it over Scorch’s ears and onto the ground. Scorch let out a shaky breath and stood up straight, giving her fur a few licks to smooth it down. 

“Thank you,” she said, “I’ll get rid of that thing in the morning.” 

Now, thought Goldenstar, say something before you lose your chance!

“Uh, your old nest is gone but you can stay in my den tonight if you like.” 

Scorch swallowed and squinted at her. “No. No, I think I’ll just use Russetfrond’s. I appreciate the generous offer though.” 

“Alright.” Goldenstar smiled, blood draining from her face. “Good night.” She swiveled and strode quickly into her own den, worried that she would die of embarrassment before she arrived. That could have gone better. There was this massive wall between them that she didn’t know how to scale and it was killing her. 

Scorch was home though… that was good. She could work with that.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Clangenrising #Goldenstar #Scorchplume #Russetfrond #Mystique #Yarrowshade #Pantherhaze #Ospreymask #Branchbark #Floodpaw #Sparrowpaw #newleaf #clangenrising

[clangenrising]

Month 12 - Leafbare

Sagetooth’s ear twitched irritably as she listened to Smokyrose’s proposal. “This is nonsense!” she huffed. “You want to try and make peace with these rogues?! You’d sooner teach a fox to fly!” Smokyrose tried to hide her scowl, focusing her attention back on Goldenstar. 

“I think we have to try,” she said. “And we ought to try as soon as possible. If we can put an end to the fighting before anyone else gets hurt, we should do that, right?” 

“I see what you’re saying,” Goldenstar said and Sagetooth waited eagerly for the ‘but’, “but these city cats don’t seem interested in any outcome besides getting what they want. I’m not sure there is a peaceful solution.” 

Smokyrose frowned and said, “We should do our due diligence. If we don’t, the ‘what ifs’ will weigh on our minds for the rest of our lives.” 

“Maybe for you,” Sagetooth growled, lashing her tail. “I will sleep soundly knowing we refused to negotiate with these barbarians.” 

“That kind of talk isn’t helpful,” Smokyrose pouted. “We need to empathize with our enemy, not demonize them.” Some things never changed. Smokyrose was still as self righteous as ever and accustomed to using her pretty face to win arguments. It made Sagetooth simmer with rage.

“I beg to differ,” she retorted. “There’s a reason the Code expects us to refrain from making friendships within other Clans. Too much empathy loses battles.” 

Goldenstar chirped to get the two older cats’ attention then sighed. “Look. I would love to be able to agree with you Smokyrose but I’m worried about your safety. Maybe we can find a compromise, yes?” 

“I’m listening,” Smokyrose smiled and Sagetooth rolled her eyes.

“It’s been a while since we actually ran into any rogues,” Goldenstar said. “Next time we do, we’ll ask them for a meeting and then we’ll arrange a time and location that I can feel confident you’ll be safe in. How does that sound?” 

“I guess…” said Smokyrose. Sagetooth huffed.

Goldenstar looked at her and asked, “Sagetooth, do you have any objections?” 

“No, I suppose not,” said the old healer. Aside from the fact that this clearly won’t work. She was just going to have to let Goldenstar learn the hard way. 

“Good,” Goldenstar sighed tiredly. “I’m glad we could come to an agreement.” Sagetooth and Smokyrose both frowned and shifted their weight but they didn’t protest. 

Neither of us are happy, Sagetooth thought sarcastically, the sign of a perfect compromise. 

“Thank you for hearing me out,” Smokyrose nodded, standing. 

“Always,” said Goldenstar, smiling despite her weariness. Sagetooth frowned deeper. The war seemed to be taking a heavy toll on the young cat and she didn’t like it. 

“Did you want me to bring you those sleeping herbs like we discussed?” she asked, knowing Goldenstar had been against them from the start. 

“I guess…” Goldenstar shrugged. “I… trust your judgment.” 

“Good,” Sagetooth said, standing as well. “Trust me, a night of deep sleep will do you some good.” She headed for the exit to the leader’s den but nearly collided with Smokyrose in the tunnel. She bristled, baring her teeth, and Smokyrose pulled back to let her go first. With a satisfied ‘humph’, she hobbled out of the den and back into her own. By the time she got there, a rant was starting to spill from her lips. 

“She’s got no sense,” she grumbled, “She wants to talk with them? Hah! That will go well. I’m sure everyone will toss a moss ball around and share tongues too!” 

Movement drew her attention and she snapped her gaze up to glare at the perpetrator. Sitting side by side, Aldertail and Oddstripe were refreshing the sick beds. Aldertail had fallen over, tail tucked and ears pressed back, as if instinctively apologizing for being in her way. Oddstripe winced sympathetically and smiled at Sagetooth.

“Evening, Sagetooth,” he said. “Everything alright?” 

“It’s Smokyrose,” she grouched, disregarding them as she stomped back to the herb stores. “She’s insisting we try to ‘make peace’ with the rogues. Ridiculous! She seems to think every problem can be solved if you talk about your feelings enough.” 

“Well, that is her job, isn’t it?” Oddstripe offered with a bashful laugh. “You know, as a mediator.” 

“Pah!” Sagetooth lashed her tail to toss the remark away. “Mediators! We went plenty of generations without them just fine!” She scowled in focus. She had to portion out the herbs without making a mess and her temper was not making it any easier for her achy paws to manage.

“Oh, really?” Oddstripe asked. “I just assumed mediators had been around as long as every other position.”

“Nope,” Sagetooth said. “Time was, we knew how to settle our disputes like warriors. These days all anyone wants to do is talk.” Finally, she managed to fold Goldenstar’s herbs into a little leaf for easy carrying.

“Isn’t that better?” he ventured carefully. “I mean- don’t less cats get hurt?” 

Sagetooth scoffed and turned around, the bundle of herbs in her teeth. “Youngins!” she hissed. “Too afraid of pain.” Her eyes briefly landed on Aldertail and the warrior impulsively went to lick at her paws. Sagetooth’s tail lashed again. 

“Stop that!” she ordered. 

“Sorry!” Aldertail squeaked, slamming her paw back down. 

“Stars, girl!” Sagetooth groaned, “I ought to put garlic on your legs!” 

“I-it’s alright,” Oddstripe tried, laying his tail around Aldertail’s shoulders. “She just wants you to be kind to yourself.” Sagetooth’s fur prickled. 

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” she spat. “We’re not doing her any service by coddling her. She’s a full grown cat, she should be able to take control of herself and stop tearing up her own skin any time someone looks at her sideways!” 

“I’m sorry,” Aldertail said again. “I’ll stop, I promise!” 

“You’d better,” Sagetooth growled. 

Oddstripe’s big ears turned backwards. “Sagetooth! She can’t help it!” 

“Excuses, excuses,” scoffed Sagetooth. 

Deep down, she knew she was being harsh. As much as she disliked it, Aldertail’s condition wasn’t something she had too much control over, but Sagetooth was angry and her hips hurt and it seemed like everyone had forgotten what it really meant to be a warrior and she wasn’t in the mood to keep her thoughts to herself! She also wasn’t in the mood to put up with Oddstripe’s bleeding heart at the moment and she stalked out of the den, tail arched at the base as it lashed side to side. 

“It’s okay, Oddstripe, really,” she heard Aldertail say as she left. “I know I should be better about it.” 

“Oh, you’re fine,” Oddstripe said firmly. “Why don’t you finish these nests? I’m going to have a word with Sagetooth real quick.” 

Sagetooth growled, low and long, as the sound of pawsteps quickly caught up to her. The sun was starting to set, casting the camp in a soft purple. On any other day it would have been beautiful but, today, for some reason, it was very annoying.

“Sagetooth!” Oddstripe hissed, easily keeping stride with her. “That was entirely inappropriate! I- I know you have your own way of doing things, but I-” 

“You what?” Sagetooth stopped to glare at him and his stupid, giant bat ears. 

“I-” Oddstripe recoiled under her gaze. She huffed in satisfaction which only made him more upset. “I won’t let you talk to her like that.” 

“Oh, really?” she growled, setting down the herbs. “What will you do to stop me?” 

Oddstripe squirmed but kept that annoyingly determined look on his face. “I- I don’t-” 

“Sagetooth!” a voice called out from the eastern hill. Sighing, she turned to face the patrol returning to camp with a grimace. 

“What now?” she said before she saw them and all thoughts seemed to fly from her head. 

Pantherhaze was in the lead, with Yarrowshade, Barleypaw, and Stormwhisper in tow. Each of them carried a kit about four weeks old in their jaws. Sagetooth’s eyes snapped onto Stormwhisper and he immediately wilted under her gaze. 

“There you are!” she shouted. “Where in the Dark Forest have you been?!” She stormed towards them, the herbs and her argument with Oddstripe completely forgotten. Cats started emerging from their dens to see what was going on.

Stormwhisper set the kitten down between his paws and said, “StarClan led me out past the territories where I found a pregnant queen. I helped her deliver the kits and she asked me to take them back to be raised in EarthClan so I did. I’m still not sure why StarClan set me on this path, but I assume the kits must be important somehow.” Sagetooth narrowed her eyes. His response seemed rehearsed to her and far too vague for her liking.

As he spoke, the others set the kits they were carrying next to the first and one of them, a little white and ginger tom, started to squeal hungrily. The others joined in, becoming a pitiful, sickly sounding chorus. 

“Oh, the poor things!” Oddstripe said, moving over to inspect the kittens. “They’re half starved!” 

“I’ve been trying to feed them,” Stormwhisper said, “but it’s been hard since they’re still getting the hang of food.” 

Sagetooth was still glaring. “They’re not even weaned yet and their mother sent them away with you?” 

Stormwhisper frowned and shifted his weight uneasily. “Yeah. I tried to convince her to come with me but she wanted nothing to do with them. B-besides, I figured I’d been gone long enough already-”

“You sure have!” Sagetooth hissed, tail bristling. “Oddstripe and I have been covering for your absence! There’s a war on! And you just went off for three moons, completely neglecting your duties and oaths?!” 

“A war?!” Stormwhisper reeled. “Between whom?” 

“Everyone and a bunch of bloodthirsty rogues,” Sagetooth snapped. “You’d know that if you’d stuck around.”

“Easy, Sagetooth,” Yarrowshade said, stepping forward a little. 

“He said StarClan was guiding him,” Pantherhaze added, eyes wide. “Maybe these kits are going to save the Clans some day!” 

Oddstripe whispered, “Barleypaw, would you grab me some drinking water and a bird of some kind?” Barleypaw nodded and bounded off towards the nearest stream.

“I’ll go grab the ones we cached earlier,” Yarrowshade offered.

“Thank you,” Oddstripe purred. “Stormwhisper, why don’t you help me get them to the healers’ den?” Sagetooth’s jaw hurt from the ferocity with which she was clenching it. It seemed no one there cared at all about Stormwhisper’s transgressions. She wished that she could set him on fire with her glare alone. She couldn’t, of course, and he eventually broke her gaze to smile at Oddstripe.

“Of course,” he said. Stooping down, he started nosing the kits towards the healers’ den and said, “Come on, little ones. Food is this way.” Sagetooth watched the fondness on his face, the way he gently picked up the smallest one and helped him along, and her expression darkened. The kits were skinny and weak, that much was clear, but if their mother had abandoned them at birth they would have died within the week. The situation wasn’t adding up right and it didn’t sit well with her.

That night, she watched from the back of the den as Oddstripe and Stormwhisper fawned over the kittens and tried to help them eat. They laughed together. Oddstripe shared stories about their own litter. Stormwhisper shared his names for the litter. 

They were all toms. The biggest and strongest of them, the ginger and white one, he named Bluffkit. The blue tabby he named Finchkit. The little grey-brown one with the white tail he named Erminekit. The white and grey speckled one he called Rainkit.

“You know,” he admitted to Oddstripe after he’d said it, “I always wanted a kit named Rainkit.” Sagetooth’s eyes narrowed. 

“Really?” Oddstripe purred. 

“Yeah,” said Stormwhisper. “You know, Stormwhisper. Rainkit. I thought it was cute.” 

“Oh, it is!” Oddstripe said, waving a paw around for the kittens to bat at. “I’m glad you were able to use the name, even if the kits aren’t yours.” 

“Yeah,” Stormwhisper said, falling quiet, a strange smile on his face. 

That was enough for Sagetooth. She didn’t know why or how but she was certain these kits were Stormwhisper’s. It made her sick. Still, it wasn’t a surprise. Stormwhisper had never been very committed to his duties as a healer, especially not the spiritual ones. As she saw it, a part of him had remained stuck in his time as a warrior and no amount of lectures ever seemed to get him to behave. And now he had used StarClan as an excuse to cover for his blasphemous actions. What a disgrace. What a betrayal.

“StarClan are the ones who betrayed us, Sagetooth. Wake up already.” Redleaf’s words reared their ugly heads, as they often did at the most inopportune times. Sagetooth shook her head. At least she had managed to keep Stormwhisper away from-

Her eyes widened in shock and her entire pelt bristled with unease. 

No… Surely not.

She studied the kits as they settled down against Stormwhisper’s belly to sleep. A ginger kitten was a guarantee that their mother was a tortoiseshell. The more she looked, the more she saw her old apprentice in their features, in the shapes of their faces or the pattern of their stripes.

She shook her head again, shutting her eyes. She was imagining things. There was no way to find such a strong resemblance, not when they were this young, not when they were all toms. Still, the fear lingered with her. She wondered what had become of Redleaf. What reason would she have had to stay so close to the Clan? How would Stormwhisper have even known?

Sighing, she settled herself down for sleep. She had more important things to worry about. That didn’t stop her from worrying about this for at least another hour before she fell into a fitful sleep.

UPDATES: - Stormwhisper returns from his mysterious absence with four kits, Bluffkit, Finchkit, Erminekit, and Rainkit. They stay the night in RisingClan before returning to EarthClan.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Sagetooth #Smokyrose #Goldenstar #Oddstripe #Aldertail #Stormwhisper #Pantherhaze #Yarrowshade #Redleaf #Bluffkit #Rainkit #Erminekit #Finchkit #Leafbare #clangenrising

[clangenrising]

Month 9 - Leaffall

Floodpaw stood up to his full height to peer over the grass. “I hope we see a rogue,” he said, straining his eyes to pick up any cats that might be encroaching on their borders. “I want to try out those new fighting tricks we learned.” Beside him, Barleypaw made an anxious noise in her throat and Sparrowpaw frowned.

“You shouldn’t want to get into a fight, Floodpaw. Good warriors hope for peace.” 

“Who told you that?” Floodpaw snorted, looking at his brother.

“Russetfrond,” Sparrowpaw lifted his head in a way that made Floodpaw want to smack him. Since when had he been such a golden boy?

“We’re warriors,” he countered, “not Peace-iors.” 

“War isn’t glamorous, Floodpaw,” Yarrowshade said, padding up from behind them. “We prepare for war because we have to but we should always try and avoid it when we can.” 

“I guess,” Floodpaw grumbled. Having marked the border up ahead, Goldenstar raised her tail to beckon them to join her and Russetfrond. 

“Come on,” said Yarrowshade, “we don’t want to get too far from the others.” 

“Okay!” Sparrowpaw smiled, bounding after his mentor. Floodpaw rolled his eyes and followed at a more casual pace. Yarrowshade curled his tail over Barleypaw’s back as they went and she leaned against his leg, purring lightly. 

She had told Floodpaw how much she liked having Yarrowshade as a mentor but Floodpaw didn’t get it. All they did was hunt all day and he was always being goofy and wrong and stuff. Floodpaw was glad she was happy but even more glad that Yarrowshade wasn’t his mentor. He’d hoped, on their ceremony day, that Russetfrond would be his mentor, and while he still looked up to the big ginger a lot, he had realized that Russetfrond was really strict. Sparrowpaw didn’t mind - he was always talking about how happy he was to check the elders for ticks or clean out the dens - but Floodpaw was again grateful that he didn’t have to put up with so many chores and exercises. 

In his opinion, Goldenstar was the best mentor he could have been given. She was smart, funny, and knew a lot about fighting. When they would train together, she was always really good about showing him how to do things without making him feel stupid like Russetfrond sometimes did, and she was a lot more easy going when it came to his chores. Yeah, Floodpaw was pretty sure he was the luckiest cat in the Clan, maybe the world.

The only thing that would make him even luckier is if he got to have a battle with a real live rogue. 

“Come on,” Goldenstar said when they approached, “We’ve got a lot of border to cover.” 

“Goldenstar,” asked Floodpaw, “do you think we’ll see any rogues today?”

“Let’s hope not,” she laughed, ears pressing back a bit. 

“But why though?” he frowned. “Shouldn’t we want to show them they can’t mess with our territory?” 

“Sure,” she said, leading the way through the fields of dry, dull grass, “But I’d rather do that with a patrol of warriors than three brand new apprentices.” Floodpaw frowned harder.

“Do you not think I’m a good fighter?” he asked. “I thought you said I had a knack for it.” 

“It’s not about knack,” Russetfrond said gruffly, “it’s about experience. No matter how talented you are, a cat with more experience will best you in a fight.” 

“You don’t know that,” Floodpaw retorted. 

“I do, actually,” Russetfrond growled. 

“Trust us, kid,” Goldenstar smiled. “You’ve got a long way to go.” Floodpaw glowered, hunching his shoulders, and stomped along behind them. 

“What would we do if we did run into rogues?” Sparrowpaw asked brightly.

“Good question,” said Goldenstar. “Russetfrond, Yarrowshade, and I would handle it while you went back to camp for help.” 

“Really?” Floodpaw griped, “Wouldn’t it be better if only one of us went for help and the others stayed to fight?” 

“Maybe,” Yarrowshade shrugged, “but it’s more important that all of you stay safe.” 

“And even more important that you listen and do what you’re told,” Russetfrond growled, causing Yarrowshade to side eye him. “There’s no time to argue in a fight. You listen to your mentor and that’s that.” 

“Ugh,” Floodpaw groaned.

“Watch your tone,” snapped Russetfrond.

Goldenstar flicked her tail and said, “Alright, ease up, Russetfrond.” The warrior grumbled to himself but said nothing else and Floodpaw smirked, raising his head triumphantly. He loved that his mentor could tell anyone to leave him alone and they had to listen. 

The rest of the patrol was dull and monotonous. They stopped every few meters to mark the border with their scent and Goldenstar took the time to show them how to know what scents were theirs and which scents belonged to other Clans. At one point, Yarrowshade stopped to show them a ground squirrel burrow. Barleypaw was enthralled by it but Floodpaw just kept hoping a gang of rogues would spring out of the grass and surprise them. 

Eventually, they neared the Thunderpath, and the group fell silent, intent on listening and watching for threats. The tension in the air was palpable. It was kind of frightening to Floodpaw to see the adults acting so seriously, but also exciting. Every time they paused to mark a border, one of the adults stood up tall to keep watch on rotation. Floodpaw tried to join them, perking his big ears towards the city, but he was still too small to comfortably see over the grass.

At one point, Russetfrond bent to check a scent marker and his lip curled in a snarl. “Goldie,” he said sharply, “Strangers.” Goldenstar, who had been on watch, glanced at Yarrowshade and he took her place so she could inspect the strange scent. Floodpaw leaned closer to catch a smell of it too. It was acrid and thick, stinging his nose and clinging to the roof of his mouth like an unwelcome guest. 

“Eugh,” he muttered, pulling away. Goldenstar trailed the scent a bit, following it back and forth where it crossed the border, before standing up tall, jaw set grimly.

“A few cats,” she said, “They went deeper into the territory.” Lifting her head, she looked after the scent trail with a frown. 

“Should we run back to camp?” Barleypaw asked, voice soft with fright. Goldenstar considered it with a thoughtful hum. Floodpaw followed her gaze, marking the angle the trespassers had been going and comparing that to the angle they would have to follow back to camp. If the path followed a straight line, they shouldn’t run into each other.

“Yeah, I think so,” Goldenstar said, glancing between Russetfrond and Yarrowshade. Both toms nodded, resolute in what needed to be done. Floodpaw’s heart sank. 

“Go quickly but quietly,” she continued. “Find Nightfrost and follow her instructions.” 

“I should go with you guys,” Floodpaw said, stepping forward. “Sparrowpaw and Barleypaw can handle delivering a message by themselves, I’ll help you guys find the-” 

“No,” Goldenstar interrupted firmly and Floodpaw recoiled. This was the first time she had outright told him no like that. He didn’t like it.

“There’s no time for arguing,” Russetfrond said again. “Get going.”

“This is important,” added Yarrowshade. “It might not feel like it, but we need you to do this for us.”

Goldenstar nodded, putting on a smile that felt far too condescending. “We’re counting on you three.” 

“Come on,” Sparrowpaw grinned determinedly. “Let’s go get Nightfrost!” Barleypaw nodded with a small affirmative grunt. Floodpaw, still staring at Goldenstar, realized there was nothing he could do, and lowered his head with a sigh.

“Fine.” 

The three of them took off, slinking through the grass with Sparrowpaw in the lead, winding their way over the hills towards camp. The route was clear and easy and they made good time, but Floodpaw couldn’t help but look back over his shoulder every so often.

He sighed again, absolutely dejected. “I can’t believe they’re gonna fight rogues and we don’t get to be there.” 

“I don’t want to be there!” Barleypaw squeaked. “If they think it’s too dangerous we should trust them!”

“You’re just a coward,” he huffed. 

“A-am not!” she protested weakly. 

“Are too!” he pushed back. “What good are your stupid ‘magic feathers’ if you get scared of everything anyway?” 

“Hey!” she cried, clearly hurt, and Floodpaw knew he was going to feel bad later. 

“Stop it,” Sparrowpaw glared at him. “A good warrior follows his leader. This is important training. Besides, you’re too mean to Barleypaw.” 

“Am not!” Floodpaw hissed. 

“You are!” insisted Sparrowpaw. “You shouldn’t be so hard on your Clanmates. We should be helping each other!”

“Exactly!” Floodpaw cried, “That’s why we should be helping Goldenstar instead of running back to camp with our tails between our legs!” 

“We are helping!” groaned Sparrowpaw. 

“Guys, we’re supposed to be quiet,” whined Barleypaw. 

“You’re just scared they’ll find us,” Floodpaw growled. “But not me! I hope they find us! I can’t wait to tear their stupid ears off.” 

“What do we have here?” a voice ahead of them and to the east caused all three apprentices to skid to a halt. Floodpaw felt his gut twist in shame. They’d been so busy arguing they hadn’t been paying attention to their surroundings. 

Stepping out of the grass was a sable pelted tom with a perfectly notched ear, like Aldertail’s. He had a plethora of scars, especially over his muzzle, including one that ran over one of his dark blue eyes. Behind him, two more cats emerged. The first was a white she-cat with speckled ears and a gloomy look in her crusty green eyes and the second was a thin blue and white she-cat with copper eyes that darted here and there anxiously. Both of them had matching ear notches - city cats.

“I told you I heard something!” chattered the blue one reedily. 

“Quiet, Midge!” the tom snapped at her, causing her to shrink back into a trembling ball. Floodpaw felt Barleypaw press tightly against him, shaking herself. He did his best to square his shoulders and look unintimidated.

“They’re kits,” the white one said dully. 

“No we’re not!” Floodpaw said, and the tom’s eyes snapped to him in a way that made his stomach squirm like a pinned mouse. Despite that, he continued. “We’re warrior apprentices and we’re not afraid of you!” 

“Oh, ho, ho,” the tom chuckled wryly, “they’re warrior apprentices.” 

“Ohhh,” the blue one laughed nervously, eyes on the tom.

“Only apprentices?” the white one asked. “So not real warriors then.” 

“Maybe,” Floodpaw puffed his chest up, “but we’re still stronger than you are!”

Sparrowpaw shifted worriedly and hissed, “Shut up!” under his breath. 

“He’s got spunk!” the tom sneered, starting to circle the apprentices. Barleypaw flattened herself against the ground and Floodpaw stood as tall as he could, turning to face the tom as he went. Meanwhile, Sparrowpaw crouched lowly, watching the other cats while Floodpaw’s back was turned on them. The tom grinned at Floodpaw, tilting his head as he continued, “I wonder what the Folk would think of him?” 

“Focus, Van Pelt,” growled the white cat, and his smile turned to a snarling glare in a split second as he turned his gaze on her. 

“Watch it, bitch,” he hissed, pelt prickling. “Ghost put me in charge, remember?” 

“Ghost?” Sparrowpaw breathed in shock.

The white cat rolled her eyes, unphased, and said, “We’re looking for a cat who came this way a few days ago, a brown spotted tabby with a notched ear.” She gestured to her own ear with a paw. 

“Yeah,” the tom said, grinning again, “you kiddies wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?” 

“No,” Sparrowpaw said carefully, and Floodpaw nodded in agreement. 

“We’ve never seen her in our lives,” he added.

“Really?” The tom circled closer and Floodpaw stumbled over Barleypaw in his attempt to keep turning with him. The tom took the opportunity to lunge forward, teeth snapping, and Barleypaw screamed, Floodpaw toppling over her as he tried to pull backwards. The tom laughed, a harsh and ugly laugh that Floodpaw had never heard before and hoped he never heard again. He hurried to his feet again, dread creeping through his pelt. 

“Stop it!” Sparrowpaw cried, his fluffy coat bushing up.

“Stop it,” mocked the tom in a whiny voice. Looking back to his companions, he asked, “Aren’t they just the cutest?” 

“They don’t know where she is,” fretted the blue one, “let’s just leave them and move on, ‘kay?” 

“I’m inclined to agree,” the white one droned. “We’re wasting our time here.” 

“I dunno…” drawled the tom with a shrug, “I think they know more than they’re letting on.” He stepped in to loom over them, back arching aggressively. “Maybe a good swipe or two might jog their memory.” 

Floodpaw raised himself up on his tiptoes to be as big as he possibly could, spitting with what he hoped was enough ferocity to give the tom some pause. “Touch us and I’ll tear your ugly pelt off!” he hissed. 

The tom shook his head with a sneer, then snapped, “You need to learn some manners, kid!” punctuating the word with a swipe that staggered Floodpaw and left him reeling. A hot droplet of blood started to well up from a small knick in Floodpaw’s cheek. Barleypaw screamed again and the tom rounded on her, snarling, “Quiet! You kits have to learn there are consequences to your actions.” 

Fury welled up inside Floodpaw and he shoved himself to his feet. “Leave her alone!” he shouted and leapt at the tom like Goldenstar had taught him. His claws found purchase in the tom’s thick, grimy pelt and he cried out in pain, rearing away. Floodpaw pushed his advantage, lashing out at the rogue with quick, sharp strikes. His blood pounded in his ears as every part of him began to sing with the thrill of battle. 

The tom swiped at him a few times, falling back under the torrent of swipes. Distantly, Floodpaw heard the white cat chuckle to herself. The tom snarled at the noise, dug in his heels, and lunged for Floodpaw with his teeth bared. Floodpaw knew he wasn’t fast enough to dodge. Instead, he bunched his muscles and flowed with the movement of the tom’s tackle, using his momentum to flip them both end over end. Twisting and clawing, he yowled, and Sparrowpaw’s eyes lit up.

“Help!” Sparrowpaw cried as loudly as he could. Barleypaw caught on and joined him. “Help! Help!” they wailed. 

The white one frowned and stepped forward. “Enough of that,” she said, but neither of them stopped their shouting. 

Floodpaw and the tom split apart, panting, and the tom hissed over, “Would you shut those kits up already?” 

“What do you think I’m doing?” she snapped back at him. Floodpaw’s tail lashed and he sprang again, catching the tom off guard. Lunging for the throat, he eagerly sank his teeth into the tom, expecting to taste a gush of blood, but found himself holding a fold of loose skin instead. The tom wrapped his paws around Floodpaw and twisted, taking them both to the ground, and sank his own teeth into Floodpaw’s shoulder. Floodpaw yowled in pain and struggled to break free. The pain sobered him up and he felt sudden fear spike through him. Goldenstar had been right. He wasn’t ready. 

“Pipe down right now!” growled the white one, “Or else!” 

“Tad!” keened the blue one, “Company!” Floodpaw heard it too, the sound of paws pounding in their direction. With a furious yowl, Russetfrond burst from the grass and crashed into the tom pinning Floodpaw. His teeth found the brown cat’s unmarked ear and tore, spattering blood over Floodpaw’s face. The tom rolled away in lieu of holding onto Floodpaw, leaving him free to climb to his paws again. Russetfrond roared, bashing the tom over the head with his heavy paws, beating the slight brown tom back with every blow. 

Goldenstar charged out of the grass as well and she and the white she-cat tussled for a moment before breaking apart to glare at each other. Goldenstar’s tail tip twitched threateningly as she bared her teeth at the two female rogues. Yarrowshade followed closely behind, stopping beside Floodpaw to look him over.

“Are you alright?” he asked, licking Floodpaw’s wounded shoulder. 

“I’m great,” Floodpaw smiled, pupils blown wide in excitement. 

“Yarrowshade!” whimpered Barleypaw, hurrying to hide under her mentor’s belly. 

“It’s alright,” he said, “We’ve got you now.” 

Russetfrond and the tom broke apart finally and stopped, glaring at each other. The group came to a temporary standstill, silence hanging heavily in the air. 

“You are not welcome here!” Goldenstar boomed. “This is RisingClan territory and we will not tolerate an attack like this.”

“I knew there were savages out here,” the tom panted with a manic grin, “but I didn’t expect such a brute.” Russetfrond snarled and edged closer, an unspoken warning. 

“Ignore him,” the white cat said, crouching low. “We’re just looking for one of our own who came this way, a spotted tabby named Scrap. If you tell us what you know about her, we’ll be on our way.” 

“You’ll be on your way now,” Goldenstar snarled. “Consider yourself lucky I don’t take what’s left of your ears for harming our apprentices.” 

“Thank you,” the blue one spoke up. “We’re undeserving of such mercy. We’ll leave right away.” She glanced at the other two, urging them to agree with her eyes. The white one nodded and backed away a bit. 

“Yes, thank you for your kindness,” she said guardedly. The tom growled and lashed his tail, casting a spiteful glance at his companions, before he wordlessly stepped away and joined them. 

“Don’t let me catch you in our territory again,” hissed Goldenstar. 

“You won’t,” the white one promised. Something in the tom’s backward glance gave Floodpaw the feeling that wouldn’t be the case. 

Once the group had slunk out of earshot, Goldenstar looked at Russetfrond and said, “Make sure they leave the territory. I’ll send someone to check in with you once we get back to camp.” Russetfrond nodded and headed after them, although not before he gave a sideways glance at Sparrowpaw. The apprentice shrank a bit, looking guilty. 

“Come on,” Goldenstar said to the rest of them, “Let’s go back to camp.” 

“Are we in trouble?” Barleypaw asked from under Yarrowshade, big ears pinned backwards.

“No,” Goldenstar sighed. “In fact, I owe you all an apology. I put you in danger and that’s my fault.”

“It’s okay,” Sparrowpaw said, shaking his head. “We shouldn’t have been arguing so loud in the first place.” 

“Did you see how I fought him?” Floodpaw asked eagerly, moving to keep pace with Goldenstar.

She looked down at him and smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I did. That was very brave of you, Floodpaw.” 

“I didn’t start it, y’know,” he said. “He hit me first.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said genuinely. “It’s good that you know not to start fights you can’t win.” 

“But you guys won,” he grinned, still floating on adrenaline. “That was awesome! You and Russetfrond are so cool!” 

“Thanks, kid,” she chuckled. “Now come on, let’s get your dad to look at your shoulder.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warrior cats oc #warriors #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Floodpaw #Sparrowpaw #Barleypaw #Russetfrond #Goldenstar #Yarrowshade #Van Pelt #Midge #This one was really fun to write. Van Pelt such a bastard and I love him #swear warning #Tadpole #clangenrising

[clangenrising]

Month 12 - Leafbare

Leafbare had become increasingly lonely for Yarrowshade. The loss of both Nightfrost and Scorchplume had taken a heavy toll on his social life. He still went hunting with Pantherhaze and Barleypaw but the energy wasn’t there.While Pantherhaze was sweet, and practically his brother, they didn’t have the same back and forth that he had with Scorchplume or Nightfrost and their absence had left a void in him that no one seemed to be able to fill.

Normally he would have gone to Goldenstar for help with that, but she had become increasingly busy managing Floodpaw’s training and keeping up the alliances with the other Clans. Now that Smokyrose had gone back to work, the two of them had started making frequent trips to the other Clans to discuss policy and next moves. Goldenstar had even told him she was planning on introducing them to the system of Soft Oaths and True Oaths she had developed. That seemed like a risky idea to him but she was determined and once she got an idea in her head, it was hard to get it out. 

And so Yarrowshade had thrown himself into teaching Barleypaw. She was coming along so well - practically taller than him already and an expert at bird catching. She was maturing too. After the battle, she’d been so ready to fight if it came to it even though she was terrified and he had been so proud of her. He’d also felt incredibly guilty though, him with his bruised ribs and wounded ego, for throwing himself into a fight he hadn’t had a chance of winning. What would have happened to her if he had died there? The thought made him feel sick to his stomach. 

He lay awake one morning, stewing over that thought. He had always been happy to focus on hunting instead of fighting, to let cats like Songdust and Russetfrond take charge in battle, but now… He realized that was a luxury he didn’t have anymore. He was tired of losing cats and being helpless to stop it but he did have the power to try and stop someone else from losing him. He rose from his nest, resolved to do something about it. 

The day was unseasonably warm and lightly cloudy. Goldenstar and Oddstripe were talking softly near the Stoneperch while Smokyrose tried to detach herself from her kittens at the mouth of the nursery. 

“I know, I know,” she said, “but I have to go, my dears.”

“Are you coming back?” Slatekit cried, her big golden eyes wide. 

“Yes, of course I will,” Smokyrose soothed, licking the kitten’s forehead and then prying her tail free from her clutches. 

“Hey! Hey, mom!” Fogkit said, seemingly having an entirely different conversation, “Guess what!”

“What, Fogkit?” Smokyrose sighed with a smile. 

Fogkit bounced up and down on her paws and asked, “If- If you hold your breath too long, will you die?” 

“No, sweetheart,” said Smokyrose, “You can’t hold your breath that long, your body won’t let you.” 

“Really?” Fogkit squeaked.

“Yes,” nodded Smokyrose, “now I really need to go, but I’m sure Ospreymask or someone can play with you.” 

“Okay,” Slatekit whispered. Fogkit was holding her breath but nodded excitedly. Yarrowshade shook his head. Kittens… How did they have so much energy?

Stepping away, Smokyrose joined Goldenstar and Oddstripe, saying, “Alright. Let’s get going.” 

“Wait up!” Yarrowshade said, realizing he needed to be quick. “Goldenstar, do you have a moment?” He bounded up to join the three of them. 

“Um,” Goldenstar glanced up at the sky and winced. “Maybe. What’s up?” 

“I was wondering if you had some time to help me with some training,” he said.

Her wince intensified. “I’m sorry, Yare, we’re expected in EarthClan.” 

Yarrowshade looked at Oddstripe and frowned. “Is Stormwhisper still missing?” 

“Yeah…” the healer frowned, big ears folding back. “And Fishtrick has whitecough.” 

“Damn,” Yarrowshade wilted. What kind of healer just went off and didn’t tell anybody? He wondered if perhaps Stormwhisper had died but pushed the thought away. Despite being EarthClan’s current healer, he had once been a formidable warrior. It was unlikely he had been killed by something, or at least Yarrowshade hoped so. 

“Besides,” Goldenstar said, “I’m talking with Orangestar about our next moves today. We’ve gotta find a way to stop the rogues from stealing our prey.” She was right. Even though no city cat had been caught over the border since the battle, they still ventured into Clan territory to snag prey and food was only getting scarcer. 

Yarrowshade sighed and nodded. “Alright. Good luck, Goldie.” 

“Thanks,” she purred, bumping her head against his. “Why don’t you ask Russetfrond for help? I’m sure he’ll be able to handle whatever training you need.” 

“Oh,” Yarrowshade swallowed tensely. “I don’t know-” But she was already walking away, Oddstripe and Smokyrose close behind. He sighed again. “Great.” 

Behind him, Fogkit suddenly gasped for breath and said, “She’s right! You can’t do it!” 

Yarrowshade ate breakfast and watched as Sparrowpaw came out to entertain the kits for a while. Barleypaw eventually joined him and the two began tossing the kittens as high as they could into the air, a game which involved a lot of squealing and shrieking. By the time Russetfrond came out of the warrior’s den, Yarrowshade had withdrawn deeply into his own mind. He frowned as he watched Russetfrond pick out a fish from the prey pile, contemplating whether or not he should even try asking for help. 

Russetfrond was a huge grump, the kind of cat who took everything far too seriously. When they were apprentices, Yarrowshade had enjoyed getting on his nerves and pushing the boundaries of his rule following, but as they’d grown up Russetfrond had only gotten angrier with him and it had stopped being fun and started being annoying. He was a strong believer in going with the flow and Russetfrond’s rigid adherence to law and order drove him up a tree. How did Goldenstar expect such a strict curmudgeon to teach him anything?!

Still… He watched Barleypaw playing with the kittens and thought again about what she would do if he died. Reluctantly, he stood and crossed the camp to where Russetfrond was eating. The deputy looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Hey,” Yarrowshade said, then cleared his throat. “I was hoping to do some battle training today and Goldenstar said maybe you could help me.” His pride was writhing inside him but he kept his expression stoic. He couldn’t back out now.

Russetfrond grunted and said, “Sure, I can take Barleypaw out with the others today and-” 

“No,” interrupted Yarrowshade. “I meant me.” He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to muster the effort to continue. “I want to be a better fighter.” 

“You really should have thought about that while you were an apprentice,” Russetfrond said flippantly. 

“Come on, man,” Yarrowshade said, a growl edging into his voice. “We’re only gonna have more and more battles with these rogues. I want to be ready.” 

Russetfrond squinted at him for a long moment. “Say please.” 

“Ugh, are you serious?” Yarrowshade tossed his head back in frustration.

“Yes,” Russetfrond insisted. “If you want my help, you’ll ask properly.” His eyes narrowed, a challenge. Yarrowshade considered waiting for Goldenstar to get back instead but the idea of her being disappointed in him or pushing herself too far to add helping him onto her long list of responsibilities made his throat feel tight. 

Eventually, he sighed and said, “Russetfrond, will you please help me with my battle training?”

Russetfrond grunted and stood, twitching his tail to beckon Yarrowshade to follow him. “Alright. Come on.” Yarrowshade blinked in surprise. He had expected Russetfrond to nitpick his tone or say no anyways just to spite him. He wasn’t about to protest, though, and so he followed Russetfrond out into the fields to a sandy training ground near camp. 

“Alright,” Russetfrond said again, turning back to him, “Where did you want to start?” 

“Um,” Yarrowshade hadn’t considered it. “How not to get my tail handed to me by a pair of kittypets I guess?” 

Russetfrond scowled. “The first step is to stop underestimating your opponents. These kittypets aren’t pampered weaklings like we used to believe. Many of them are skilled fighters and if you keep pretending you’re above them they’ll beat you every time.” 

“Okay, fine,” Yarrowshade rolled his eyes. He didn’t care for the way Russetfrond was treating him like a little kit. 

“Pay attention!” Russetfrond said with a frustrated growl. “You asked me for help, okay? If you’re not gonna take this seriously you can leave.” 

“I am taking it seriously,” Yarrowshade groaned. “Don’t expect me to be all ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ okay? In case you forgot, I’m older than you.” He huffed a bitter laugh through his nose, tail twitching, and started tearing at the sparse grass with his paws. Why was Russetfrond like this?

“Then act like it already!” Russetfrond snapped. “You make everything into a joke! It’s infuriating.” 

“Okay, whatever,” Yarrowshade shook his head. “You just like feeling better than everyone ‘cause your mom was leader.” 

“I have a legacy to maintain,” Russetfrond growled, his own tail lashing, “just like Wildstar of old. I have to make my mother proud! You have no idea what that’s like!” 

Yarrowshade grit his teeth furiously. As a kitten, he had been found wandering through the territory, starving and confused as to why his mother had abandoned him out in the grass.

The Clan had taken him in, filled his belly, and treated his fever. They had given him a place to call his own and he had tried his hardest to make them proud, to make sure they never regretted their decision to welcome him in. For Russetfrond to insinuate that he didn’t have anyone to make proud filled him up with rage and indignation. 

“You badger-whelp!” he snarled. “I ought to shred your ears for that.” 

“Try it,” Russetfrond dared, arching his back into a battle stance. “You want some combat training? Let’s go.” Yarrowshade laughed. Russetfrond just bared his teeth. With a shock, Yarrowshade realized he was serious. 

“Alright,” he laughed again, rolling his shoulders and sinking into a stance of his own. “You asked for it.” The threat was all bravado - he knew he was outmatched - but the urge to get sent back to the healers’ den trying was too strong. Even though he had felt guilty about getting beaten by those kittypets, he had to admit there was something satisfying in the pain, something he deserved. 

Giving a yowl, he sprang, claws swiping for Russetfrond’s ears. Russetfrond, to his surprise, lunged up to meet him, crashing his skull up into Yarrowshade’s jaw which caused his teeth to snap down onto his tongue with a jarring ‘clack!’ He hissed, reeling back and spat blood onto the sand. 

“You fight like a hunter,” Russetfrond said, still in a battle crouch but not advancing. “You try to get a hit in before your target can notice but that doesn’t work with cats. You have to wear them down or wait for an opening, you can’t just win by being the first to make a hit.” 

Yarrowshade grit his teeth in pain and anger. Now Russetfrond was trying to teach him? He sprang again, this time going low to try and snap at his opponent’s neck. His teeth found purchase in Russetfrond’s thick ruff of fur. Pushing forward, he tried to topple Russetfrond onto his back, but the sturdy tom hunkered down and swatted him roughly in the eye. 

“Ow!” Yarrowshade cried out, falling backwards to nurse his wound. “Fox-dung, man, that’s not cool!” He groaned and cradled his paws against his eye. 

Russetfrond ignored him. “You’re still doing it. Don’t just rush in. Test my defenses for weaknesses first.” Yarrowshade took a deep slow breath to release the pain then slowly lowered his paws, blinking until he could see again. It seemed his eye would be alright, if a little irritated for a while. The moment of pause had already started to leech the anger out of him and, as he took another slow breath, he felt his temper coming back under his control. 

Fine, he thought, We’ll try it his way. He lowered himself into a more defensive crouch and started to prowl closer and Russetfrond shifted his posture to account for the change in tactic. Once Yarrowshade felt like he had closed enough distance, he darted in, one paw batting out, then hopped back. Russetfrond followed him with a few strikes which he dodged. He smiled. The tempo of the battle had changed significantly and he liked it. 

“Good,” Russetfrond said as they circled each other. “This part of the battle is like stalking the prey. If you forget to do this important step and just go charging in you’re going to lose your catch nine times out of ten.” 

“Right,” Yarrowshade said, suddenly understanding. He shifted his posture ever so slightly, keeping his body low to the ground and his limbs close to his body where it was harder to hit them. He was stalking his prey, metaphorically tasting the wind and accounting for the light. He lunged forward with another few swipes and two of them managed to hit Russetfrond in the head. Excitement rising, he pressed his advantage, rearing up to bring more weight down with each strike, but then Russetfrond lunged, tackling him to the ground. He writhed and scrambled and Russetfrond let him go. 

“Better, but you still need to have more patience,” Russetfrond said. 

Yarrowshade nodded. “Alright. How ‘bout this one?” He attacked again, leaping high into the air with the intent to land on Russetfrond’s head, and his opponent reared up to meet him. They met in a flurry of blows, claws sheathed, until Russetfrond hit him in the gut and he hopped back again to catch his breath.

“Not bad,” Russetfrond smirked, “but maybe don’t announce your attacks next time, yeah?” 

Yarrowshade laughed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, shaking out his pelt. “Let’s go again.”

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Leafbare #Yarrowshade #Russetfrond #clangenrising #Fogpaw #Slatepaw

[clangenrising]

Month 9 - Leaffall

Scrap still wasn’t used to eating animals with fur and feathers and everything. She wished that these Clan cats had kibbles or sausage or cheese. Luckily, Branchbark had taken her fishing that morning. She was terrible at it, but he wasn’t that bad and had managed to snag her a small river fish he called a dace which she had scarfed down so quickly she had nearly choked. If she weren’t so worried about upsetting her new hosts, she would have devoured the entire prey pile, fur and feathers be damned. 

Now she sat on the edge of the little clearing, grooming her paws over and over and over again. Last night, Goldenstar had come to her and discussed the possibility of her joining the Clan, officially changing her name and becoming one of their ‘warriors’. She couldn’t imagine herself being a warrior, a fighter. She pictured Razor and his bruisers, or even Van Pelt and the other zealous Chaff, and her legs started to shake. But Goldenstar had assured her that being a Clan warrior was very different from that. If she wanted to, she wouldn’t be required to fight so long as she helped keep the prey flowing and the dens clean and that didn’t sound so bad. Goldenstar had even offered to change her name which was an exciting idea. 

After a bit of thought, she had agreed, and Goldenstar had told her there would be an official ceremony the next day. Scrap was consumed by nerves. She couldn’t help but worry she would muck the whole thing up. What would the Clan cats do? Would they laugh at her? Would they beat her? Starve her? All three? Branchbark had assured her no harm would come to her but, any time she sat still, the thoughts began to overflow. 

And so she sat, grooming her paws over and over and over again. 

Nearby, she spied Branchbark’s friend, Oddstripe, grooming her- his kits similarly. It was still odd to Scrap, being so close to a pretender like that. Back home, Razor would have taken the cat’s massive ears or worse until she had renounced her foolishness. But here she was free- he was free to do as he pleased. Dammit! She had to remember! He, he, he, he, he. She was a he, or- curses! He was a he. Shaking her head, Scrap gave herself a few quick whacks over the head to try and drill it into her brain. 

“Oh, don’t do that,” Oddstripe said, startling her. 

“Sorry,” Scrap said quickly, pulling both her paws beneath her. 

“Oh, It’s alright,” Oddstripe said, blushing. “I didn’t mean- I just meant it makes me sad to see you hurt yourself like that.” 

“Yeah, you gotta be nice to yourself,” chirped the fluffiest of the kits. 

“It didn’t really hurt,” Scrap laughed anxiously. To tell the truth, she liked the pain of it, it was satisfying in a way. 

“Okay,” Oddstripe said gently, “As long as it doesn’t hurt.” 

“Papa!” the girl of the litter whined, “My feathers aren’t right!” Oddstripe turned back to his kits and leaned down to help fix a series of cardinal feathers into the kit’s fur. 

“Here,” he said, placing a few more licks over her shoulders to get the feathers to lie straight. “How’s that?” 

“Better,” frowned the girl. “Thank you, Papa.” 

“Look!” the blue boy whispered loudly, “Goldenstar’s coming out of her den! It’s time!” 

“Shh! She’ll hear you!” hissed the other boy. Oddstripe chuckled and gave them a few more licks over the head. Scrap gave her own paws a few more licks, wincing slightly as her tongue pulled at the skin her previous grooming had made raw. She pulled her paws underneath her and curled her tail close around her, hoping to be as small as possible until she was called upon. Her eyes flitted across the camp to Goldenstar who was speaking softly with Scorch. 

Scrap swallowed dryly. In the time they had shared the camp, Scorch had mostly avoided her, thank the folk, and had not been nearly as smooth and gregarious as she was used to. Still, it seemed she had once again found favor with the local leader. She wondered if Goldenstar had the same kind of fondness for her that Razor had. Given their tolerance for pretenders, there was a decent chance they didn’t mind that kind of behavior either. There had always been rumors Scorch went both ways so Scrap wouldn’t be surprised. 

After exchanging a few words, Goldenstar bunched her powerful muscles and leapt onto the stone above her den. Scrap flinched as Scorch’s eyes fixed on her for a moment. Thankfully, they just as quickly moved away as Scorch turned and padded to the edge of the clearing and settled down. 

On top of the stone, Goldenstar raised her tail and called out, “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Stoneperch for a Clan meeting!” Her voice cut clearly through the open air of the plains and soon all of the cats had emerged from their dens to listen. Scrap felt a strange prickle of unease when she realized how relaxed they all were. Some were excited, sure, but none were afraid. It was like she had stumbled into a garden meeting somehow and she felt intensely out of place. Unconsciously, she gave her tender paws a few more licks. 

“Today,” Goldenstar said, smiling proudly, “We gather together to name three apprentices, the first since we survived the Red Gut plague and my first as Leader. I know we have all been looking forward to this. Naming new apprentices is a sign that our Clan is still strong and thriving and lets us look forward to the day three new warriors are welcomed into our ranks.” Looking down at the kits, who were fidgeting by their father, Goldenstar said, “Barleykit, Sparrowkit, Floodkit, would you please step forward?” 

The two boys bounded eagerly into the middle of the clearing, staring up at Goldenstar with their tail tips curling excitedly. The girl paused nervously until Oddstripe gave her a gentle nudge forward and she scrambled to stand between her brothers.

Goldenstar purred, “The three of you have reached the age of six moons and today you will begin your training to become warriors. Sparrowkit, from this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Sparrowpaw.” The fluffy brown tom grinned and nodded, puffing up his chest with pride. Scrap watched the ceremony enthralled. What strange traditions these Clan cats had. 

“Russetfrond,” Goldenstar said, and Scrap followed her gaze to a burly ginger tom with handsome cheeks and cardinal feathers in his tail. “You have proven yourself to be a dedicated and loyal warrior and I believe it is time for you to take another apprentice. You will mentor Sparrowpaw. I hope that you will teach him to focus his enthusiasm into a similar dedication to his Clan.” Russetfrond grunted with a nod and stood to join the apprentices in the middle of the circle of cats. He leaned down to touch noses with Sparrowpaw who beamed up at him, golden eyes sparkling. 

The rest of the cats suddenly called out, “Sparrowpaw! Sparrowpaw!”, startling Scrap. She took a deep breath and held her ground, wishing there was something close by to hide under. 

Once they had finished, Russetfrond murmured in his apprentice’s ear, “This way.” Laying his tail over Sparrowpaw’s back, he guided the young cat off to the side to sit and then the ceremony continued. 

“Barleykit,” Goldenstar said, causing the kit in question to squeak and straighten herself. “From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Barleypaw. Your mentor will need to be able to teach you a warrior’s skill and how to have confidence in it, and for that reason, I have chosen Yarrowshade to be your mentor.” The creamy ginger cat who had greeted Scrap at the border sat up excitedly, seemingly surprised by the news. “Yarrowshade, I expect you to look out for Barleypaw and help her grow into a brave and powerful warrior.” 

“I won’t let you down,” Yarrowshade said, moving to touch noses with Barleypaw. Again, the cats began to cheer the young cat’s name until she and her new mentor moved off to the side - the opposite side, Scrap noted. The final kit of the litter squirmed in anticipation as he waited for Goldenstar to resume.

“Floodkit,” she said, “From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Floodpaw. After some consideration and discussion with Nightfrost and your father, I have decided that I myself will be your mentor. I look forward to working with you to teach you the skills and mindset of a warrior.” 

Floodpaw was stiff with excitement as Goldenstar leaped down to touch noses with him. The cats raised their voices again to chant his name. Goldenstar smiled, giving her new apprentice a playful cuff over the ear, and then leapt back up onto the Stoneperch. Scrap’s stomach flipped when she realized that she was next. 

“In addition to these new apprentices,” said Goldenstar, “we are proud to name a new warrior. While Scrap has come to us for protection and would be welcome to stay regardless, she has expressed interest in taking a warrior name and learning to follow our code.” Scrap tried to lift her head proudly but she couldn’t manage to rise from her crouch and ended up feeling like a ridiculous turtle. 

Goldenstar continued, “Now, the last time I inducted a cat into the Clan, I changed the words of the ceremony in order to make them more comfortable and I know that that upset many of you. It was never my intention to permanently change the oaths our warriors swear or to turn my back on StarClan and I apologize for giving you all that impression. I simply did not want to ask a cat to swear to something that they don’t fully understand, especially to the death. For that reason, I propose a Soft Oath that new cats can swear. The oath would allow them to take a name and participate in Clan duties until they feel comfortable swearing the True Oath that our warrior apprentices will swear. Are there any objections?” 

Cats shifted, considering the thought. The big ginger tom, Russetfrond, opened his mouth and then closed it. 

After another moment, he said, “No, I see the logic in that.” 

“Agreed,” nodded Nightfrost, the big she-cat who seemed to be second in command. The rest of the cats all nodded or shrugged, except for the elderly Healer sitting near the edge of her den who sat silently, eyes closed. 

“Good,” Goldenstar sighed in relief. “With that in mind, Scrap, could you please step forward?” Scrap flinched at the sound of her name, instinctively. Forcing herself to stand and step forward. The moment she left the safety of the crowd, her skin began to crawl. An overwhelming compulsion to clean her pelt began to tug on her brain. It felt like a fog was closing around her psyche and it took all of her effort to stare through it and focus on Goldenstar’s voice.

“Scrap,” said Goldenstar, “is it your wish to join RisingClan as a warrior, to learn our ways, and to serve your fellow warriors?” 

Scrap had agreed to this last night, but somehow her throat wouldn’t move. Fighting against her own nerves, she managed to eke out a shaky, “Yes.”

“In return, the Clan will serve you in kind,” said Goldenstar. “Would you like to take a new name or keep the one you already have?” 

“Um,” Scrap shifted. “A new one, please.” She had no attachment to her name. It had always been a point of mockery for her, or a term of derision. She honestly wondered what these strange cats would think to call her. Suddenly, she was struck by the fear that they would give her something even worse than scrap. Why hadn’t she considered that sooner? They had all been so kind, but that didn’t mean-

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you a warrior name. From this day forward, you will be known as Aldertail. Your resilience and bravery shine through and we welcome you as a member of RisingClan.” 

The cats cheered her new name. “Aldertail! Aldertail!” The cries were slightly less enthusiastic than those given to the kits, which was to be expected, but they surprised her nonetheless. She looked around in awe. Goldenstar jumped down again and pressed her nose to Scrap- no, Aldertail’s forehead gently. Aldertail blinked up at her, unsure what to do. 

“With that our meeting is concluded,” Goldenstar said to the crowd then, more softly, she added, “I hope you like the name. I tried to pick out a good one.” 

“I’m sure it’s a good one, your excellence,” the new warrior said, bowing her head. 

“No need to use titles,” Goldenstar reminded her, “we’re friends here.” 

“Right!” winced Aldertail. “I’ll remember, I promise.”

“It’s fine, really,” Goldenstar said with a little laugh. 

Floodpaw, who had been waiting nearby, finally decided to cut in. “Goldenstar, can we go do battle training or something?” 

“Ah, yeah, sure, one second,” Goldenstar said, looking down at him. “Why don’t you go grab the others and we’ll talk about what we want to do on your first day.” 

“Okay!” he nodded and sprinted off to the spot where Russetfrond was talking with Sparrowpaw. 

“I have to go,” Goldenstar said, “but make yourself comfortable. Our home is yours now too.” 

“Thank you,” Aldertail nodded. “I will.” With that, Goldenstar headed off, and the rest of the crowd dispersed as well. Branchbark and his friend, Ospreymask, approached. 

“How are you feeling?” asked Branchbark. 

“Good,” Aldertail said, feeling nauseated. 

“Your name is so perfect!” chirped Ospreymask. “Your tail looks just like a catkin!” 

“A what?” Aldertail asked.

“A catkin!” Ospreymask said, “They’re the flowers that hang from alder trees.” 

“Oh,” she nodded in response. “That’s what the name means.” 

“Have you never seen an alder tree before?” Ospreymask asked. 

“We don’t get many trees in the city,” she said, shaking her head. 

“We can show you one,” offered Branchbark. “They might not have a lot of catkins on them though.” 

“S-sure,” Aldertail nodded. “If it’s not too much trouble.” 

“It’s no trouble at all,” he smiled. “Come on!” 

The two Clan cats turned and led the way out of camp and Aldertail, turning her name over in her head like it was a toy, followed. She wasn’t sure she was happy, but she felt better than she had. Perhaps she could put the horrors she had seen behind her, out here in the open fields. Perhaps she could bury Scrap and start over. She liked the sound of that.

UPDATES:

Scrap joined RisingClan and took the name Aldertail. Floodkit, Sparrowkit, and Barleykit have been made apprentices! Floodpaw was apprenticed to Goldenstar Sparrowpaw was apprenticed to Russetfrond Barleypaw was apprenticed to Yarrowshade

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warrior cats oc #warriors #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Goldenstar #Aldertail #Oddstripe #Floodpaw #Sparrowpaw #Barleypaw #Russetfrond #Yarrowshade #ceremonies #clangenrising #ceremony #apprentice ceremony #warrior ceremony

[clangenrising]

Month 10 - Leafbare

“Yarrowshade?” Nightfrost asked softly. Yarrowshade immediately lifted his head from where he had been sleeping, the two of them curled around to rest on each others’ flanks. 

“Yes?” he asked, ready to do whatever she wanted. The snow had prevented anyone from harvesting horsetail. A storm had rolled in again after Sagetooth had returned, delaying Branchbark’s expedition to try and find any. Luckily, today had lots of sun and no new snow, thawing the drifts enough that sometimes grass was visible between them again. Branchbark had left earlier that day to go looking. The others had agreed to handle the border patrols and Goldenstar was taking care of Barleypaw’s training for the time being, which he was grateful for. 

As much as he hated to think about it, everyone seemed to think that Nightfrost wasn’t long for the world and he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could. He wanted to believe she would get better but if she didn’t he couldn’t bear the thought of her being alone. 

Nightfrost smacked her lips a bit, wincing at the taste of her nap, and asked, “Are you also feeling really warm?” Her voice was faint and woozy which worried him. 

“No, I’m not,” he shook his head, “are you feeling really warm?” 

“Yeah,” she mumbled, laying her head back down on his side. 

“Maybe I should get Sagetooth,” he said, shifting to get up and she whimpered. 

“No, don’t,” she moaned. “Please stay.” 

Guilt weighing down his gut, Yarrowshade settled back down. “Okay, I’ll stay.” He sat there for a long moment, watched her shut her eyes and grimace in discomfort, and felt her heartbeat thumping quickly against him. Something was wrong. 

“Sagetooth!” he called, disliking the worry that wobbled in his voice. 

“What is it?” she asked, sounding cranky as ever. She limped around the corner of the burrow from where she had been resting in her nest. Like Nightfrost, her paws had been bound with cobwebs to keep them clean. 

“Nightfrost says she’s feeling very warm,” he said. 

“Fever,” she grunted, expression darkening. Carefully, she made her way over and sniffed at Nightfrost’s paws. She stepped back, nodding solemnly. “Definitely infected.” Nightfrost whimpered and shifted uncomfortably in the nest. Somewhere deeper in the den, Oddstripe coughed. Yarrowshade hated how much the situation reminded him of the time that cats were sick with the Red Gut plague.

“What can we do?” he asked.

“We can cool her down with snow,” Sagetooth shrugged. “I can give her some borage, maybe poppy seeds. Other than that… there’s not much to be done until Branchbark returns with the horsetail.” 

“Okay,” he nodded. “You get her some borage, I’ll grab some snow.” 

“Here,” she said, limping over to the herb stores. “Take a pumpkin leaf and fill it.” Very carefully, he pulled himself out from underneath Nightfrost and she whined again. 

“No, don’t go,” she pleaded. 

“I’ll be right back, my love,” he said, pressing a few licks to her forehead. Stars, she was burning up. He moved to join Sagetooth and take the pumpkin leaf she was offering. As he took it, he whispered, “How long does she have if he doesn’t show?” 

Sagetooth sighed. “Hours. You should prepare to surrender her to StarClan.” 

Yarrowshade’s stomach twisted sickly. He nodded and took the leaf outside to fill it with snow. His mind was far away and his eyes refused to focus. He felt like he was floating out of his body and out of time. 

You should prepare to surrender her to StarClan.

The word surrender made him feel ill. How could she ask that of him? He had only recently been able to call Nightfrost his and now he was being forced to let her go. He had never been one to give up. He had never been one to stop fighting. If there was something worth saving he would always fight for it until he couldn’t physically move. But this was an illness. What was there to do? He had no way to fight. 

He thought back to something he had told Goldenstar when Toadpaw had been taken. I’m just tired of losing cats and being powerless to stop it. 

Feeling that tiredness in a foggy haze around his mind, he bunched the leaf up in his teeth and brought the snow back into the den. Sagetooth showed him how to close the leaf shut with a bit of cobwebs and then handed him the borage and instructed him how to feed them to her. He did so then gently returned to the position they had been in before, curled close so he could feel her heart beating against him. He carefully placed the leaf of snow onto her forehead and she sighed in relief, the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. 

Please, StarClan, he begged wordlessly, let Branchbark return in time.

He let her rest. Words passed through his brain, a thousand different ways to start a conversation with her, but none of them felt important enough to disturb her. They would all be for his benefit and none of them would be as satisfying as he might hope. Eventually the snow melted and he very carefully groomed the water from her fur and tossed the leaf to the side. At one point he hummed a tune for her and she smiled. 

It was hard to tell how much time had passed. He started to doze unintentionally but was woken when she suddenly twisted and whimpered. 

“Nightfrost?” he asked. She was breathing hard and her heart was hammering against her ribs. 

“So cold,” she breathed, trying to pull him closer. He licked her fur the wrong way, trying to warm her up the only way he knew how. 

“It’ll be alright,” he said. “Branchbark should be here soon, just hold on.” 

Nightfrost whined and pressed herself close against his flank. “Yarrowshade?” she asked.

“Yes?” 

“Can you sing again?” 

“Of course, my love,” he said, starting humming the tune from before. He nuzzled close to her, tried to press his weight comfortingly against her. Her breath was shaky now, starting to falter. Her hammering heart beat began to slow. His whole chest tightened in anticipation. She could pull through this, he told himself, she was the strongest of all of them. 

She twitched sharply, eyes opening, and stared blankly at the ceiling. She twitched again. Her heart beat slowed to a crawl and faded. He held his breath, searching for it, for the sound of her breath rasping in her throat. She laid silent and still against his side. 

He choked down a sob. “Nightfrost?” he asked. Silence. He wasn’t brave enough to ask again. Closing his eyes, he pressed his chin against her, held her close. He didn’t cry very often but now the grief shook his whole chest and constricted his throat. Tears rolled down his nose and into her fur. Distantly, he registered Sagetooth peering around the corner of the den and was somewhat relieved when she disappeared again. He grit his teeth and wept. 

That night, Branchbark returned with the horsetail.

UPDATES: - Nightfrost's frostbite becomes infected. She does not survive.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #yarrowshade #nightfrost #sagetooth #tw graphic injury #tw character death #tw major character death #clangenrising

[clangenrising]

Month 10 - Leafbare

Branchbark was sure that he was being punished. Russetfrond had sent him out hunting with Yarrowshade of all cats at least five times since he’d been made deputy. He had been assured that it was simply a logistical decision, but the situation felt too uncomfortable to be pure coincidence. On the other paw, Russetfrond wasn’t exactly fond of Yarrowshade so the choice might have had more to do with Yarrowshade than it did with him. 

Yarrowshade, for his part, had been taking it well, it seemed. If Branchbark hadn’t known any better, he might not have guessed that Yarrowshade was grieving at all. As they roved the territory looking for prey, he smiled and laughed and answered all of Barleypaw’s questions in a bright and playful manner. Branchbark wasn’t sure, but that didn’t feel exactly… healthy. 

“Great catch, kid!” Yarrowshade purred as Barleypaw returned with a sparrow hanging from her jaws. “You’re getting really good at that.” 

“Fanks,” she beamed, tail swishing idly. Yarrowshade began to dig a hole in the remnants of snow to cache the bird in and Branchbark’s vision fogged as he watched the motion. 

He had helped lay Nightfrost to rest that night. Beside Songdust and Pantherhaze, he had carved a hole in the cold hard earth down hill from the camp where the rosemary grew in the spring and countless Clanmates had been buried. The entire time, his throat had been thickly choked with guilt. If he had been faster, if he had gone out sooner or braved the snow storm the day before, if he had been smarter about which patches he checked-- Despite the futility of it, his mind raced to find something he could have done to avert the tragedy. 

He found himself going through the same list of ‘what if’s now, only getting pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Yarrowshade’s voice. 

“Branchbark…? Hello?” 

He snapped to attention and smiled out of habit. “Yes? I’m here!” 

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Yarrowshade chuckled. “For a second I was like ‘where did he go?!’” He made a show of scanning the area as if Branchbark had disappeared and Barleypaw laughed in the most adorable manner. Branchbark blushed but was happy to play along with the joke for her sake. 

Still, it was weird to see Yarrowshade being so goofy already. Wasn’t he hurting? He realized suddenly that Yarrowshade had been talking again and he had no idea what had been said. 

Barleypaw was nodding. “I wanna see if there are any cardinals around! I’ve lost some of my feathers and I need new ones so I can stay brave.” 

“Good idea,” Yarrowshade said. “Lead the way, Barley-girl! I’m right behind you.” Barleypaw nodded and bounded off through the snow. Yarrowshade followed close behind but Branchbark trailed them more slowly. He just couldn’t seem to focus today. 

Yarrowshade caught a few rodents and Barleypaw caught another sparrow but Branchbark fumbled the squirrel he had spotted. Yarrowshade had laughed it off and told him it was fine but he knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t fine. He could have been smarter, faster, better. He could have found the horsetail in time. He could have- 

A flicker of movement caught his attention and pulled him from his thoughts with a jerk. 

Yarrowshade was crouched next to Barleypaw, both of them intently watching a bright red cardinal that was fluttering its wings and searching for seeds among the frost-firm grass. Yarrowshade was the perfect mentor, correcting her posture and whispering words of encouragement, but that wasn’t what drew Branchbark’s eye. A large, russet shape in the grass shifted, two black tipped ears alert and forward, beady yellow eyes fixed tightly on the two oblivious cats hunting a few meters away. 

Branchbark was running before he realized. A loud warning hiss tore from his throat as he launched himself towards the fox, and it wheeled to face him fur puffing up in fright. It opened its mouth and let out a warbling scream and Branchbark arched his back and growled in response. 

“Stay here,” he heard Yarrowshade tell Barleypaw. Then, the older tom carefully stalked up to flank the fox with Branchbark. 

The fox seemed young, probably born that spring if he had to guess, and it was thin beneath its winter coat. If they were lucky, the fox would decide they weren’t worth the energy to fight and leave instead. Branchbark hissed again, edging closer, and Yarrowshade hopped forward with a few swipes of his claws. The fox screamed again, skittering backward, then lunged at Yarrowshade, jaws snapping. 

Branchbark’s heart skipped a beat - he couldn’t let anything else happen to Yarrowshade on his watch. Hissing he leapt forward to bat at the fox’s face. 

“Wait!” Yarrowshade yelled too late.

Branchbark’s claws hooked into its nose and it wailed in pain. Twisting, it snapped at him with sharp teeth and a lance of burning pain shot up his leg as it managed to catch his foot in its mouth and pull. Blood sprayed across the grass, the tang of its scent striking his tongue, and he hissed, trying to bash it over the face with his other paw. 

Yarrowshade ducked under him and lunged, sinking his teeth into the fox’s neck. The smell of blood doubled and the fox released him with a yelping, frightened scream. Yarrowshade let it go and it tumbled away panting heavily as crimson bloomed down the front of its chest. It cursed in vulpish, looking over the red spatters on the ground, then fled with clumsy pawsteps. 

Branchbark sat back with a hiss of pain and looked at his leg, giving the wound a few careful licks. Despite the pain of it, the wound seemed mostly superficial, which he thanked StarClan for. Adrenaline pumped through him, giving him a giddy lightness in his stomach. 

“What were you thinking?” Yarrowshade snapped, his muzzle slick and dark with fox blood. Branchbark wilted. That wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting. 

“I was trying to save you,” he mumbled. 

“I didn’t need saving!” said Yarrowshade. “It was giving a warning bite, we could have driven it off without a fight.” 

“I… I’m sorry,” Branchbark said, realizing that Yarrowshade was right. “I just… I didn’t want you to get hurt.” 

“So you got hurt instead,” Yarrowshade glared. Branchbark had no argument. 

“Are you okay?” Barleypaw asked, slowly creeping up behind them. Her big, bat-like ears carefully lifted from where they had been pressed against her head and her big blue eyes were wide with fright. Quickly, Yarrowshade tried to groom the blood from his muzzle before she saw. 

“Yeah,” he said, “yeah, I’ll be fine.” 

“Barley, dear,” Yarrowshade said, putting effort into sounding more gentle, “could you walk Branchbark back to camp to see Sagetooth please? I’ll collect the prey we caught and meet you there.” 

“Will you be alright?” she asked, “W-will that thing come back?” 

“The fox?” he looked over his shoulder to see where it had disappeared and then back to her, “No, it’s probably going to be gone for a while, if it survives. I’ll be just fine.” He smiled and she relaxed, but Branchbark could see something strained underneath his grin. 

“Now go on,” Yarrowshade continued, tone turning stern when he looked at Branchbark. “Get your leg seen to.” 

Branchbark nodded. “Yeah… I will. I’m sorry, again.” 

Yarrowshade’s jaw clenched but he kept his smile. “I don’t want your apologies.” 

Bile rising in his throat, Branchbark nodded again and turned to leave. Barleypaw walked beside him, worriedly eyeing his leg every few steps. He walked silently, trudging in his building guilt. He didn’t know how to make things right with Yarrowshade. He wasn’t sure if he ever could. 

“Does it hurt?” Barleypaw asked eventually.

“A little bit,” he said, and that wasn’t entirely true. It was constant and stinging against the cold winter air, but he had grown used to it by now and it wasn’t the worst wound he’d ever received. 

“I think you were very brave,” she whispered wide eyed. 

“Thank you,” he said with a bashful laugh, “but I was more foolish than brave. If I had listened to Yarrowshade I probably wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

What a question. He hummed for a moment before answering, “It’s my fault that Nightfrost died. I wanted to try and make it up to him and I wasn’t thinking clearly.” 

Barleypaw was quiet for a bit. “I thought it was Papa’s fault.” 

“What?” He looked down at her with a quirk of his head. 

“He went and got sick and so he couldn’t find the right plants. Sagetooth was really mad at him.” 

“It’s not his fault,” Branchbark shook his head. “He didn’t try to get sick. Sometimes bad things just happen.” 

“Then why is it your fault?” she asked. 

“I wasn’t fast enough,” he shrugged. “If I’d been faster she might have survived.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she frowned. “If it's not Papa’s fault then it's not your fault either. Sometimes bad things just happen.” 

Branchbark almost laughed. “Well I guess I can’t argue with that,” he said, feeling sheepish. How had she bested his guilt so quickly? He had a feeling he was going to feel bad about what happened for a long time, but perhaps he could let go of the idea that he was uniquely to blame. He just hoped Yarrowshade felt the same.

UPDATES: - Branchbark is injured saving Yarrowshade from a fox!

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Yarrowshade #Branchbark #Barleypaw #Leafbare #clangenrising

[clangenrising]

Month 10 - Leafbare

This leafbare was turning out to be a grim one. Yarrowshade was still trying to keep his spirit up, but it only got harder and harder. Goldenstar had been distraught after Scorchplume’s abduction and he had tried to be there for her but it had honestly been too close for comfort.

“I didn’t get to tell her I love her!” she had wailed into his side, “I just- I can’t believe she’s gone!” and he hadn’t been able to avoid his own, similar laments. He hadn’t been able to say any of the things he wanted to Nightfrost. He hadn’t been able to grapple with the fact that she was never coming home. Every day he would wake in the morning and look for her only to die a little again when he remembered she was gone. 

He honestly had very little memory of consoling Goldenstar. It seemed he had slipped into some kind of daze that had only broken when he woke up the next morning. Goldenstar had apologized but he had laughed her off and assured her it was fine. They hadn’t talked much since then, in fact, if it weren’t for Floodpaw, he had a feeling she might have disappeared from Clan life entirely. 

So, once again, he had focused on being there for Barleypaw. Being around her was a lot easier than being around other people. She still laughed at his jokes, she didn’t stare at him with pity like everyone else, and besides, he loved to see her smile. It made everything feel easier. No matter how helpless he felt, he could do one thing and that was make her life better. 

“I can’t believe we still haven’t found anything yet,” she complained as their hunting trip started to stretch into the evening. The sun was starting to hang low in the sky, turning the snow orange, and they hadn’t caught a single thing. Maybe that was his fault for taking them into the southern side of the territory, but he was worried about over-hunting the other areas and he wanted her to get more familiar with all of RisingClan’s land. 

“I’m sure we’ll find something, Barley-girl,” he said, trying to sound unbothered. “Didn’t Sparrowpaw say there were rabbits up this way?”

“That was on EarthClan’s land,” she said, “remember?” Yarrowshade winced. How could he forget? The incident had caused friction between the two Clans that was extremely poorly timed. He was honestly surprised that Russetfrond hadn’t punished Sparrowpaw more harshly for it. The rogues had been stealing Clan prey but so far nothing else had happened and Orangestar had visited to tell Goldenstar that she wasn’t sure she could continue to support the alliance at the upcoming gathering. Luckily, Sagetooth had been helping EarthClan in Stormwhisper’s absence and that appeared to be enough to keep the alliance intact for now. 

“Oh, duh!” he exclaimed, “Next thing you know, I’ll forget how to walk!” Dramatically, he flopped over on top of her, and she squealed in delight. 

“Stop it!” she laughed, pushing against him with her little paws and he rolled back onto his feet with a chuckle. “You’re so silly.” 

“Yeah,” he grinned, “but you like it.” 

She giggled and adjusted her feathers, replacing one that had fallen out of her makeshift mane. “Yeah…” 

“Alright, come on,” he purred, “last one to find a catch is a rotten egg.” She laughed and they set out even further, looking for any sign of prey among the dry, dead grass. Yarrowshade quizzed her on the different kinds of stalking techniques, what challenges different kinds of prey presented, and even all the different birds she could name. He was enjoying himself so much, he almost didn’t spot a pair of cats moving through the grass ahead of them. 

He caught them out of the corner of his eye then stopped and looked at them more clearly, stretching out a paw to stop Barleypaw as well. “Hold on,” he whispered, “There’s city cats over there.” Barleypaw gasped and crouched down to hide. He sank into his haunches as well, relying on his stripes to hide him among the grass as he stared at them. 

Both cats wore kittypet collars. They strolled side by side, laughing and talking between themselves without a care in the world. They were farther from the border than any city cats had been found before. Yarrowshade shifted his weight uncomfortably. This was not good.

“Barley,” he breathed, “I need you to go very carefully and quietly back to camp and get Russetfrond or Goldenstar, okay?”

“On my own?” she asked, big ears trembling. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m going to try and distract the cats until you get back, okay? You’re gonna do great, just pretend this is a hunting assessment. I know you can do it.” 

“Okay,” she nodded. After a moment she started to creep backwards then turned and slunk into the grass. Confident that she was safely on her way, he started to approach the kittypets, stealthily at first then slowly rising out of his crouch to raise his tail in greeting. One of the kittypets, a brown and white tabby tom, spotted him before the other did and muttered something to get his companion, a white tom with a black cap and saddle, to look in his direction. 

“Hello there, strangers,” Yarrowshade called, “What brings you all the way out here?” 

The white and black tom squinted at him darkly and said, “Just walking around. None of your business.” 

Yarrowshade already felt anger building up inside him. “Well, it kind of is. Don’t know if you noticed, but you crossed into RisingClan territory a while back.” He was pretty certain that they had noticed but was doing his best to be diplomatic about it. 

“Are you calling us stupid?” the tabby asked, squaring his shoulders with a glare. 

Great, Yarrowshade thought, so much for that approach. 

“Not at all,” he said, “Just trying to give you the benefit of the doubt.” 

“Well, good for you,” said the bicolor tom. “You can run along now.” The tabby chuckled and nodded in agreement. Yarrowshade grit his teeth.

“My name’s Yarrowshade,” he said, trying to stay friendly, “What can I call you?” 

“Are you thick?” the tabby snapped, rolling his eyes. “He said get lost.” 

Yarrowshade couldn’t help himself. “Actually, he said I could run along. That’s different.” 

The tabby gave a low, building growl as his hackles started to rise. “Listen, wise guy, we were just minding our business. You should learn to do the same.” 

Yarrowshade felt his own fur bristling in kind. “You are my business if you’re on RisingClan territory. If you want me to leave you alone, you should go back to the city.” 

“You don’t get to tell us what to do!” the tabby hissed as he gave a warning lunge. Yarrowshade tensed, moving back instinctively as he sized the tom up. He was younger, probably a couple years old, but still strong looking. The white and black tom was closer to his age and seemingly unmoved by the interaction, staring coldly back at him with his ice chip eyes. 

When Yarrowshade gave ground, the tabby laughed and seemed to puff up with pride. “Scared, wild cat?” he asked, tail lashing expectantly. “Some savage you are.” He glanced backward at his companion who remained stoic.

Yarrowshade bared his teeth and said, “You would know about savages. I’ve seen what you do to cats.” 

“Yeah?” the tabby asked, prowling closer, a threat. 

“Yeah,” Yarrowshade glared, matching his posture and slowly starting to circle with him. “I’ve seen how you tear them up inside, leave them broken.” He thought of Aldertail and her eternal jumpiness, of Scorch and her compulsive obfuscation. If it hadn’t been for cats like these two, maybe he and Scorch wouldn’t have been fighting. Maybe she wouldn’t have gone into that trap to spite Goldenstar. Maybe-

The tabby laughed at his words and shot Yarrowshade the filthiest smirk he’d ever seen. Chest puffed out he said, “You’ve seen it, have you? Didn’t realize you wild cats were picking up our sloppy seconds.” Yarrowshade frowned in confusion for a beat before realization dawned on him and he let out a disgusted noise at the vile innuendo.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked, reeling back. The tabby chuckled again and even the other tom huffed a laugh under his breath. Yarrowshade’s blood was boiling. All thoughts of stalling the two were drowned out by the need to make them pay. Before the tabby could get another word in, he ducked low and lunged, eyes locked on the tom’s soft neck. Teeth bared, he went to strike, imagining hot blood pouring over his muzzle like it had when he saved Branchbark from that fox. A good warrior didn’t need to kill to win his battles, but maybe he wasn’t a good warrior. A good warrior would have been able to save his Clanmates. He would just have to settle for avenging them.

Movement flashed in the corner of his vision and, like a serpent, the bicolor tom sprang into action, a heavy paw striking Yarrowshade hard across the forehead. Dazed, he stumbled sideways, momentum lost. The tom pressed his advantage and slashed his claws through Yarrowshade’s ear, then across his muzzle in the other direction. 

“Get him, Oreo!” the tabby jeered. Yarrowshade pivoted to face his attacker as he dropped into a defensive crouch. His eyes were watering from the strike to his nose, but he could still see the outline of Oreo’s ears against the bright orange sky. His claws flashed in a series of swipes. None of them connected, but they kept the kittypet at bay long enough for him to blink the tears from his eyes. 

“Stay down,” Oreo snarled, arched up on his toes. 

Yarrowshade wasn’t thinking properly and the command immediately galvanized him into doing the exact opposite. He darted forward, staying low, and snapped at Oreo’s paws. Teeth caught flesh and Oreo hissed, rearing upward. Then, he slammed back down, bringing his weight onto Yarrowshade’s head again. The warrior crumpled into the ground as his vision blurred and his ears rang. He tried to roll sideways, out of harm, but teeth sank into his fur and pulled. It seemed the tabby had taken the opportunity to get a hit of his own in.

The tom tugged at Yarrowshade’s neck, near the shoulder, and he cried out in pain. Luckily, the bite had only caught his loose skin but that didn’t stop it from hurting like the Dark Forest. He whirled his hindquarters around to kick at the tabby and his claws caught something fleshy. The tabby hissed and pulled backwards and Yarrowshade crowed triumphantly. 

The victory was short-lived. Oreo reared up again and brought his paws down on Yarrowshade’s ribs hard. His breath evacuated his chest in a wheeze and before he could suck it back in, Oreo reared up and bashed his ribs again. Something primal in Yarrowshade’s body screamed at him. He was in trouble. 

“You think you can mess with us?!” the tabby spat, swatting roughly at his head. “I’ll show you how broken we can leave someone!” Yarrowshade scrambled backwards, unable to see and out of balance. As he withdrew, the tabby’s claws snagged his lower lip and tore and Oreo got a good swipe on his shoulder, tearing out a chunk of fur. Blood dripped down his face. The two city cats loomed closer in the blazing light of the sunset.

Yarrowshade growled a warning but it was an empty threat. If they kept on him like that, there wasn’t much he could do. At least I’ll get to see Nightfrost again, he thought briefly but immediately banished the thought. No, Barleypaw needed him. Goldenstar needed him. The whole Clan needed him! He tried to weigh his options in the brief respite and none of them were great. He knew the territory better than they did. Maybe if he ran, he could lead them to an old badger sett and lose them in the tunnels. 

“You stupid bitch,” the tabby started advancing again. “This is Exalted territory now, you hear me?” He came in with a few short swipes which Yarrowshade dodged. Yarrowshade countered with a sweeping claw attack that nicked the tabby’s muzzle, but even before he had finished he knew that he had gone too wide. The tabby spat furiously and punished him with a bite on the other side of his neck. That bite, while still not serious, hit more solidly into muscle instead of skin, and Yarrowshade screeched in fury. 

He rained a few blows down around the tom’s ears and they broke apart again. Both of their tails were bottle brushed and their eyes wild. Yarrowshade wheezed with a wince. His ribs were not happy about the move he had just pulled, that was for sure. In his periphery, Oreo had paused to stare off into the distance. 

“More savages, moving fast,” he said. “Seems like the party’s over, Milo.” 

“Dammit,” huffed the tabby, following his gaze. “Things were just getting good.” 

“Let’s go,” Oreo droned, sounding bored. He turned with a swish of his tail and started back towards the border as if nothing had happened. Yarrowshade glared but couldn’t do much more than try and catch his breath. 

The tabby, Milo, sneered at him and said, “We’ll have to finish this later, pretty boy.” Yarrowshade frowned in confusion. Was the kittypet hitting on him? It didn't feel like it, but what kind of insult was calling someone pretty? Turning, Milo ran his tongue over his muzzle and bounded to catch up with Oreo. Once they had disappeared in the grass, Yarrowshade let himself topple onto one side and threw back his head to pant for air. 

Not long after that, he heard Goldenstar’s voice calling his name. Stars, she sounded afraid. 

Guiltily, he inclined his head in her direction and shouted, “Here,” then hissed sharply in pain. It seemed like using his lungs was going to upset his ribs for a while. The sound of pawsteps grew nearer and soon Goldenstar, Russetfrond, Ospreymask, and Barleypaw emerged from the grass. Goldenstar was at his side immediately.

“Yarrowshade!” she gasped, hovering over him with an anxious twitch in her tail. “Stars, are you alright? Someone get Sagetooth-” 

“I’m fine,” he wheezed, dismissively waving a paw. “Just resting… Got a few bruised ribs is all.” Russetfrond was sniffing at the flattened grass while Ospreymask perked her ears and stood watch. 

“Looks like they’re heading back to the city,” she said.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “they left as soon as they saw you coming. Seems like they don’t care for fair fights. Ow…” He shifted a bit, trying to figure out exactly how bad standing up was going to be. 

“I’m sorry,” Barleypaw whispered. “I wasn’t fast enough.” 

“No, no, no,” he said quickly even though his sides ached. “You did perfect Barley-girl. I’m the one who messed up.” 

“What happened?” Goldenstar asked. She settled down next to him and started grooming the wounds on his neck and face with a worried firmness. 

“Uh…” he groaned. “I was gonna try and stall them ‘till you arrived but…” He paused to catch his breath then continued, “but they just pissed me off. You should have heard the crowfood they said.” Glancing at Barleypaw, he added, “or, rather, be glad you didn’t.” 

Russetfrond growled disapprovingly. “So they said some mean words and you started a fight you couldn’t win?” 

“Russetfrond,” Goldenstar frowned, but Yarrowshade laid his tail over her paw to stop her.

“Yeah. I wasn’t thinking right.” 

Russetfrond scoffed and looked away, tail lashing. Goldenstar sighed and gave his muzzle one last lick. 

Standing, she said, “Let’s get you back to camp before dark, okay?” 

“Sure thing, Goldie,” he said. “I can’t wait for Sagetooth to chew me out.” 

“Maybe my Papa can fix it,” Barleypaw offered. “He won’t chew you out.” 

“Thanks, Barley,” he smiled. Holding his breath, he heaved himself to his feet then let the air out slowly between pursed lips. That particular move was not a pleasant one, that was for sure. 

“What about the rogues?” Ospreymask asked. 

“I’ll go find the border patrol,” Russetfrond said, “update them on the situation. Maybe now Orangestar will start taking things seriously.” 

“Yeah,” she frowned. 

Goldenstar stepped up close to support Yarrowshade and he gratefully leaned his head on her shoulder. She didn’t need to say anything. He knew she would do anything within her power to see him well again. He felt painfully unworthy. 

Barleypaw slid into place on his other side, barely touching him but keeping close. He imagined that was more for her sake than his and he gladly twined his tail with hers in the hopes that it would be a reassuring gesture. The walk back to camp was not going to be pleasant, but at least he was with friends. He thought back on the encounter and emblazoned the tabby’s face into his mind. That made the fourth city cat he owed a beating. He was going to have to put in some battle training if he ever wanted to repay them all.

UPDATES: - Yarrowshade gets into a fight with rogues and has to take time off of his duties to heal from the injuries.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Yarrowshade #Barleypaw #Milo #Oreo #Russetfrond #Goldenstar #Leafbare #swear warning #clangenrising

[clangenrising]

Month 10 - Leafbare

Goldenstar climbed the Stoneperch, claws scrabbling against the layer of ice and frost that had settled over it after dark. As much as she wanted to do anything else right now, the Clan needed a new deputy and she had to appoint them before moonhigh. She had hoped for more time before this duty fell on her. 

She’d taken the evening to think over the choice, to make sure she was making the right decision, but she had almost immediately known who she needed to support her. Only one cat in the clan had the sense to counter balance her impulsivity and the respect of their Clanmates. Only one cat could be her new deputy. 

She turned to face the camp before her. Almost everyone had already gathered around Nightfrost’s body. Songdust had joined Yarrowshade in grooming her fur. There were no flowers this time of year but Ospreymask had harvested a few pine branches to adorn her with. The smell of the needles was almost refreshing. 

Goldenstar opened her mouth to start but her voice died in her throat. She cleared it, shifted her position, and tried again. “I say these words before StarClan, so the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice. Russetfrond will be RisingClan’s new deputy.” 

Russetfrond met her gaze and gave a slow blink and a nod. She returned it and leapt down from the Stoneperch. She couldn’t bear to be above her Clanmates any longer. She settled near her den and closed her eyes. She wanted to go be with Yarrowshade but he had shaken her off earlier, when she had first heard the news. She could tell he didn’t want anyone to see him grieving and she understood. 

Nearby movement rustled her whiskers. She opened her eyes as Scorch sat down beside her and swept her tail over her paws. Goldenstar felt her stomach clench as she observed the gentleness of Scorch’s beautiful blue eyes. Desire and grief intertwined - what a complicated mix of emotions that was.

“That was understated,” Scorch murmured, “as far as ceremonies go.” 

“It always takes place during a funeral,” she whispered back. “It kind of has to be. Our code demands we name a new deputy before moonhigh to make sure the Clan is never caught by surprise and left without a clear successor for leadership.” 

“I see,” she said. 

Goldenstar watched Scorch’s eyes find Russetfrond in the crowd and she felt the sudden need to say, “I hope you know that making Russetfrond my deputy doesn’t mean that I endorse the way he speaks about you. I just-” 

“No, I understand,” Scorch shook her head. “He’s the only sensible choice.” 

Goldenstar relaxed. “Oh, good. The last thing I want is for you to feel alienated.” 

“Mm,” Scorch hummed and Goldenstar tensed again. What did that mean? Scorch had such a habit of keeping her thoughts carefully guarded. Goldenstar studied her expression but found no answers. 

After a moment’s hesitation, she leaned close to mumble in Scorch’s ear. “Thanks,” she said, and suddenly her heart was thumping against her ribs, “for sitting with me. The company makes it easier.” 

Scorch tilted her head very slightly and met Goldenstar’s gaze with hers. To Goldenstar, it felt like that moment lasted for ages. Her breath hitched in her chest as some kind of desire threatened to consume her. Ever since she had realized the nature of her feelings for Scorch, they had only intensified and they were so strong in this moment that she didn’t know what to do. What did she even want aside from some nebulous concept of Scorch? She didn’t know. 

“Of course,” Scorch said eventually, the barest of smiles on her lips. “I’m sure she was a good friend.” 

“Yeah,” Goldenstar said, looking down. She awkwardly pulled back from Scorch’s presence, unsure why she had moved so close in the first place. Scorch said nothing and so neither did she and they sat in silence instead. 

Eventually, Sagetooth came out of the healers’ den and said, “Alright. If you stay out any longer you’ll all catch frostbite yourselves. Time to go to bed.” 

Songdust stood but Yarrowshade didn’t budge. 

“We need to bury her now,” Songdust said softly. Yarrowshade shook his head. 

“Just a little longer,” he said, voice raw. 

Goldenstar sighed and stood, glancing back at Scorch. She opened her mouth to explain but didn’t know what to say. Scorch shook her head. Again, she understood, and Goldenstar was so grateful. Still, she sensed disappointment. She would have to examine that later. She moved over to Yarrowshade’s side and gave him a gentle lick over the head.

“Come on, bud,” she said. “We’ve got to go.” Yarrowshade shut his eyes and let out a heavy breath through his nose, one heavy laden with sorrow. Without a word, he stood and pressed against her side. 

“Why don’t you stay the night with me?” she offered. He nodded and she led him back across the camp towards her den. As they passed, Scorch looked them over, looking restrained. Goldenstar almost invited her to join them, but then she remembered that she and Yarrowshade weren’t speaking to each other for some reason. 

She paused, wondering if it would be worth it to ask. Yarrowshade looked up and he and Scorch met eyes. Almost immediately, Yarrowshade dropped his head, looking anywhere but at Scorch. Goldenstar tried to search Scorch’s expression but the moment Scorch realized, she turned away and left for the warriors’ den. Goldenstar sighed and nudged Yarrowshade forward. 

When they reached the nest, Yarrowshade toppled into it on his side, sniffling. Goldenstar laid down across from him, tangling his paws with hers. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know you probably don’t want to hear that, but I am.”

“It's okay,” he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning forward. Instinctively, she bowed her head to bump it against his. 

“If I can do anything to help,” she said, “just let me know.” 

He sniffled again and when he spoke, his voice was pitched with grief. “Thanks, Goldie. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“I’ll always be here for you, Yare,” she said, pushing against his forehead with extra pressure. He looped his paws around the back of her neck and huffed sadly. 

“Scorch hates me,” he lamented. 

“She doesn’t hate you,” Goldenstar said instinctively.

“Yes she does,” he whined, “and I have no idea why! She just stopped talking to me.” 

“When?” Goldenstar asked. “Maybe I can figure out what happened.” 

Yarrowshade huffed again and twisted onto his back to look at the ceiling. “Uh, it was when Aldertail showed up. She wanted me to send her away and when I didn’t she stormed off instead of explaining why I should. Then we didn’t get to talk until the next day and when I tried to check in with her she shut down all of my questions and got upset when…” he paused, and took a slow, shaky breath, “When Nightfrost asked me to go hunting. And it’s just gotten worse since then and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!” 

Goldenstar frowned sympathetically. “Okay. Yeah, I think I understand what’s going on.” 

“Really?” he pouted, turning back to look at her. “How?!” 

She laughed a little bit, immediately feeling guilty. “Scorch is… very afraid,” she said. “She’s afraid of being found by Razor and she’s afraid that she isn’t important to you. Refusing to send Aldertail away told her that you didn’t care about her safety, even if that’s not what you meant.” 

Yarrowshade grit his teeth in frustration. “What was I supposed to do? Turn her away?” 

“No,” Goldenstar said. “You did the right thing. Scorch is being unreasonable and I think she knows that.” She hoped she did at least. “Just… give her time. And take some time for yourself.” She nuzzled into him and felt sleep starting to drag her down. She sighed tiredly and pulled him close. He sniffled and started to cry again and she just squeezed him tighter. It was going to be a long night but she was going to be there for him.

UPDATES: - Russetfrond is appointed the new deputy

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Goldenstar #Russetfrond #Yarrowshade #Nightfrost #Scorchplume #Ceremony #Ceremonies #for those of you who saw this early: no you didint #clangenrising #deputy ceremony

[clangenrising]

Month 2 - Newleaf

Nightfrost, Yarrowshade, and Songdust discuss whether or not Yarrowshade's dream was a vision from StarClan as they patrol the border.

#clangen #clan gen #clangen oc #clan gen oc #clangen game #Clan gen game #warrior cats #warriors #warriors oc #warrior cats oc #RisingClan #Nightfrost #Yarrowshade #Songdust #clangenrising

[clangenrising]

Month 9 - Leaffall

“Go home,” Russetfrond insisted for the third time. 

Nightfrost shook her head again. “If Razor comes back, you’ll need me to be here.” She was still rattled from the encounter with him and Ghost earlier that day. It wasn’t just that the city cats had come so close to their home, that Razor had been so close to starting a fight, that they had clearly intended to return. It was the way that Razor had leaned in close and tasted her scent like he owned it while making a threat in the same breath. She knew that he was probably just trying to upset her but that information didn’t make it feel any better. 

Even from her small interaction with him, she could tell that Razor was a tom who had power and liked to wield it. She wasn’t going to let him catch her or her Clan unawares. And so she had stayed out when Russetfrond, Sparrowpaw, and Ospreymask had come to relieve her and intended to join Goldenstar and Branchbark for the night shift. Her replacements had been less than pleased.

“We need you to rest,” Russetfrond said, stomping out in front of her path. “If they show up now you’ll be no use anyway.” 

“I’ll be fine,” she grumbled. She tried to ignore the fact that her paws had been numb for a while. 

“Nightfrost, please,” Ospreymask cut in, leaning up against her side. “We’ve got it. If something happens we’ll send Sparrowpaw to get you and you can come right back.” 

“Yeah!” the apprentice piped up. “Please, Nightfrost?” 

She looked at him, his bright golden eyes shining with the courage of youth, and she imagined him breaking between Razor’s teeth. “No,” she shook her head firmly. “No, I’m fine. I want to stay.” 

“Fine, then,” Russetfrond huffed, squaring his shoulders confrontationally. “Maybe I’ll send Sparrowpaw to find Sagetooth instead and she can talk some sense into you.” Nightfrost glared. He had picked the one cat she knew she couldn’t argue with and she knew it wasn’t an empty threat.

“You snake,” she growled, half joking. 

“Yeah, yeah, go curse me out back in camp,” he said. Sighing, Nightfrost turned towards camp. She didn’t like being beaten but even more she didn’t like that he was probably right. Already, as she crunched her way through the snow, she felt exhaustion starting to creep into her bones.

“Rest well!” Ospreymask called after her. She flicked a disgruntled ear in response. 

Her paws felt like clumsy chunks of ice at the end of her legs as she picked her way through the snow drifts. Now that she had agreed to return to camp, the desire to curl up and sleep was starting to take hold of her mind. She closed her eyes, imagining Yarrowshade’s warmth and weight against her flank. 

Oh, stars. Yarrowshade had been waiting for her this whole time. She groaned at the thought of facing him now. She had been so harsh with him lately and she hated it. She knew he didn’t deserve it, but for some reason, his insistence on his continued friendship with Scorch had been getting on her nerves. She knew she was being petty about it. She knew she was being unreasonable. That didn’t stop her from taking her frustrations out on the both of them. She’d started scheduling them on separate patrols, started inserting herself between them every time he tried to reach out. 

She was hurt. How could he stand to be around her now that they knew the truth?! Didn’t he understand what she had done? Did he care more about her than his Clan? She knew that wasn’t fair. Yarrowshade was a relentlessly kind cat. It was one of the things she loved about him. Like Goldenstar, he somehow saw something worth caring for in Scorch, something she was probably too guarded to see. 

Was she jealous? Maybe. She didn’t think that he was interested in Scorch like that. He had promised her he wasn’t and she was inclined to believe him. Still, she realized, she was jealous that he cared about her at all after everything she had done. How could he still spend so much of his time worried about a cat who had been so favored by Razor? 

Razor. She shuddered again at the thought of him. Or maybe she was just shivering. She sniffed hard at the snot dripping from her nose. The longer she walked the more she felt like she might collapse. Luckily, she could hear the sound of cats speaking up ahead. She spied a dip in the white sheet of snow and knew she was nearly home. She sighed in relief. 

As she headed down into camp, she found Yarrowshade standing by the nursery talking softly with Smokyrose. The moment he saw her, he sat up straight and stared as if he’d thought he’d never see her again. She smiled fondly. 

“Nightfrost,” he started then, realizing his mistake, said, “Excuse me, Smokyrose. Thank you.” 

“Anytime, dear,” purred the mediator, turning a kind eye in Nightfrost’s direction. She slipped inside the den as Yarrowshade stood to meet Nightfrost at the edge of camp.

“Hey,” she mumbled. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, eyes wide. “When you didn’t come back, I…” 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said. “A little cold, but fine.” She sniffled again and swiped her tongue over her nose to clear the snot away. 

“Why don’t we go see if Sagetooth has some herbs for your nose,” he said, “and then we can curl up in the Warriors’ den with a fat dove, yeah?” 

“Sure,” she nodded. She didn’t particularly want to go see Sagetooth, but she was so tired. She didn’t have the energy to protest. 

Yarrowshade smiled and pressed his pelt against hers, spreading warmth through her thick, frosty fur. Together they padded to the Healers’ den and Nightfrost felt at home, perfectly fitted to his side. 

“I think I love you,” she mumbled without thought. 

Yarrowshade stopped. “What did you say?” 

She blinked, drowsy, and said again. “I think I love you. I don’t know why it took me so long to say that.” Yarrowshade was staring at her, open jawed. She smiled. What a ridiculous adorable face he had. 

“Nightfrost, I…” he laughed breathily. “Wow! I’m sure you don’t need me to say I love you too.” 

“It would be nice,” she hummed. Stars, her eyes were so heavy. 

He smiled and stepped closer, pressing his forehead against hers. “I love you too, Nightfrost. I have for a long time.” She leaned into his warm touch, purring, and he purred in kind. She bobbed tiredly and he laughed as he reached out to steady her. “Woah. Let’s get you inside before you pass out, alright?” 

She nodded and leaned against him again, letting him guide her into the warmth of the Healers’ den. Oddstripe was sitting in the back of the den, carefully winding cobwebs around a stick. Sagetooth supervised from her nest, probably resting her old joints after the storm. She looked up at the both of them with a scowl. 

“What do you two need?” she asked. 

“Nightfrost has a runny nose,” Yarrowshade laughed, his tail twining with hers. Sagetooth sighed. 

“I can handle it,” Oddstripe offered, but the old healer shook her head.

“No, no, you stay right there. I’ll handle it,” Sagetooth said as she heaved herself from her nest and plucked a few mint leaves from the stores. She padded over and placed them in front of Nightfrost. “Chew those.” Nightfrost obeyed, already salivating over their menthol smell. She purred at the taste and settled down to warm her freezing paws under her belly as she did. Yarrowshade curled up beside her, also purring. 

“You’re awfully cheery,” Sagetooth observed with a frown. 

“I am,” Yarrowshade chuckled, glancing at Nightfrost. 

When he said nothing more, Sagetooth grumbled and rolled her eyes. “Alright then. You’ve had your mint. Off with you.” 

“Aww, you don’t want to enjoy our company?” Yarrowshade said playfully. 

“No,” Sagetooth said flatly, turning away. “I have no time for lovesick fools.” 

“Is it that obvious?” Nightfrost asked with a tinge of embarrassment. 

“With Yarrowshade?” asked Sagetooth. “Always.” 

Yarrowshade chuckled and stood. “Okay, okay, we’ll get out of your fur.” He looked at Nightfrost and she smiled. She couldn’t wait to go take a warm nap beside him. 

“Thank you,” she said and Sagetooth grunted. Nightfrost moved to stand and then hissed in pain. Suddenly her paws felt like they were on fire. While she was sitting on them, they had started to prickle, but she had thought nothing of it. Now that prickling stung up through her paw pads under any kind of weight and she thumped back onto her side. 

“Are you alright?” Yarrowshade asked. 

“My paws are stinging,” she said, lifting one to give it a lick.

“Ah-ah!” Sagetooth snapped, interrupting her. “Don’t you touch those paws! Let me look at them.” She padded back over and took one paw in both of her own, tilting it gently to look at the pads. “Tch! Your skin is nearly black! What were you doing out there?” 

“Protecting the border,” Nightfrost said lamely. She stared in disbelief at the stinging flesh of her paw pads. The exposed skin had started to turn black and necrotic. 

“Why didn’t you come back sooner?” Yarrowshade fretted, “Weren’t you in pain?” 

“No, they just felt numb,” she replied. 

“Fool child,” Sagetooth scoffed. “Tuck those back underneath yourself. We need to warm them up immediately.” Nightfrost obeyed. If only her shame could heat her paws and not just her face. 

“Oddstripe,” Sagetooth continued, “We’ll need those cobwebs and some fresh garlic.” 

Oddstripe shifted awkwardly. “The squirrels got to the garlic patch, remember?” 

“Fox-dung!” Sagetooth cursed. “Horsetail then!” 

“We’re still out,” Oddstripe said, ears pressing back guiltily. “I can go find some though.” 

“In this snow?” Yarrowshade asked. He looked very pale. 

“Great,” Sagetooth shook her head. Her tail twitched back and forth as she thought, eyes flickering over the ground. “Alright. We’ll clean the wounds and bandage them tonight. Tomorrow, if it isn’t snowing, we’ll both head out first thing in the morning in search of horsetail. Maybe you can get your kits to lend a paw.” 

“Of course!” Oddstripe said. “Between the five of us we’ll definitely find some, Sagetooth, I promise.”

Sagetooth frowned at him. “Don’t promise things you can’t control.” 

Oddstripe deflated under her stare. “Right. Sorry.” 

Nightfrost shook her head again. “I can’t believe I let it go so far. I didn’t think I was out there that long.” 

“You were gone for a long time,” Yarrowshade said softly.

“And it only takes half an hour for frostbite to set in,” said Sagetooth. “You’re lucky its not worse.” 

Yarrowshade settled down beside Nightfrost again, curling around her and starting to groom her shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “Just… get your rest.” 

“Thank you,” she sighed, butting her head against his. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he said back. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.” 

“Thank you,” she breathed against his fur.

“It’ll be okay,” he said again. “Right?” He looked up at Sagetooth. The healer pursed her lips and sighed. 

“We’ll do what we can,” she said. It wasn’t very reassuring. But she supposed that she preferred that over a promise Sagetooth couldn’t keep.

UPDATES: - Nightfrost stays out too late and returns with frostbite. - Nightfrost and Yarrowshade confess their feelings and become mates.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Nightfrost #Yarrowshade #Sagetooth #Oddstripe #TW Graphic Injury #Frostbite #clangenrising