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Post by chaotic creativity on Sept 10, 2020 11:47:21 GMT -8
❄ Post 010 - Saxifragepetal's Promotion
A beautiful grey lynx point molly strolled comfortably across the snow, her head high as if she knew exactly where she was. “Excuse me? Who are you?” Blueberry growled, his fur rising along his spine. Sunglare ran his tail down Blueberry’s back and approached the stranger, a smile on his face. The molly lowered her muzzle and surveyed the ginger tabby and white tom, clearly unimpressed as she raised her muzzle and began padding onwards again. “My name is Soar, and I have been sent by Coral to be a Hertuginne. I was also sent to demand that Saxifragepetal become a Hertuger like he was originally intended to be,” she meowed simply, and Sunglare’s smile grew strained as he tried to keep up with her. Soar waved her tail dismissively, a smile creeping across her face as she realized how much she enjoyed annoying this patrol. “I don’t need your help or guidance. As I was sent by the gods, I know exactly where I’m going,” Soar sighed as she charged ahead. Sunglare and Blueberry had to run to keep up with her, but they reached the camp in record time. Soar barged into the camp and winked at Saxifragepetal before stepping up to Moosestar with a huff. “My name is Soar, and I have been sent by Coral to be a Hertuginne. I was also sent to demand that Saxifragepetal become a Hertuger like he was originally intended to be,” she repeated, and Moosestar looked at the molly in shock. Sunglare crouched, expecting Moosestar to explode on Soar. Moosestar just waved her tail and nodded, mumbling, “Yes, yes. You two may join Oystersnap. He’ll explain everything you need to know.” Sunglare’s jaw dropped as Saxifragepetal and Soar approached Oystersnap. He heard the Hertuger rename Soar to Skuasoar, and that was when Birchdapple approached. Sunglare barely heard what his mate said, but he quickly followed him for a sense of normalcy after Moosestar’s strange behavior.
This moons Kattunge check-up was proving to be difficult. Harbourkit, Sealkit, and Narwhalkit were now two moons old while Lychniskit and Salixkit had just hit one moon old. The elder Kattunge were teaching the younger ones how to get into trouble, and Briarprickle was struggling to keep just one still long enough. “Sealkit! You have to sit still or I can’t tell if you’re healthy or not!” Briarprickle cried, struggling to keep a snarl or a hiss from her voice. They may be annoying, but she didn’t want to scare them. Briarprickle sighed as she felt Harbourkit’s teeth sink into her tail. The Helbreder spun and sniffed for the scent of sickness before herding all five Kattunge out of her den. She collapsed and glared as Rollingfog stepped over the army that was charging out the entrance. “They’re a pawful, but I can finally move back into the Beskyttere den. Sunglare and Birchdapple are moving in to take care of those three, and Dipperduo has promised to keep an eye on Lychniskit and Salixkit until they become Lærling,” the molly meowed, sitting beside Briarprickle and grooming her ruffled fur. “I wish Moosestar would pay more attention to me. I thought being a surrogate would catch her eye,” she admitted, and Briarprickle rolled her eyes. “Moosestar’s head is so far up in the clouds that she hasn’t even recognized her own two Kattunge,” the torbie snapped, and Rollingfog visibly flinched away from the bad mood. “Sorry, but Kattunge check-up day always tires me out. You know I get cranky when I’m tired,” she sighed, and Rollingfog nodded understandingly. As Rollingfog lowered herself to Briarprickle’s level, they heard a loud shriek and several small paws rushing across the main cavern. “They’re not in my care anymore,” Briarprickle announced quickly, rolling on her back and grooming her chest fur. Rollingfog suppressed a giggle, which only made her laugh harder. She rolled closer to Briarprickle, who stiffened and scooted away. Briarprickle chewed anxiously on her lip, and Rollingfog just looked at her. “I…” Briarprickle barely got the word out before she ducked her head to hide her blush. Why was her heart racing? Why couldn’t she think straight? Why was the light reflecting off Rollingfog’s pelt in the most beautiful way she had ever seen? Briarprickle swallowed and turned around, busying herself by sorting herbs and replacing them into the holes in the wall. “I’ll… I’ll see you around,” Rollingfog meowed softly, ducking out of the den. Briarprickle turned to watch her go, barely able to think past the fact that she might have a crush on her best friend.
Climbingpaw trembled as he stood close to the entrance, Chickweedpaw and Crookedpaw standing around him in a circle. “You’ll do fine!” Chickweedpaw chirped happily, but Climbingpaw stayed silent. Crookedpaw tapped her paw to her chin, what she always did when she was thinking, and then her eyes brightened as an idea struck her. “Crookedpaw, think before you speak,” Chickweedpaw warned, but the molly charged ahead with her idea without a second thought. “Statistically speaking, your chances of passing far outweigh your chances of failing. Your last attempt sadly landed in that miniscule chance of failure, but the odds haven’t changed as the season hasn’t changed. You’ll do fine,” she purred with a smile, and Climbingpaw flattened his ears to his head and let out a wail. Crookedpaw opened her mouth to sooth her friend, but Chickweedpaw quickly pushed her tail between Crookedpaw’s teeth. Climbingpaw had lowered himself to the floor and was shaking, his mind racing over all the possible scenarios that ended in him failing. “Climbingpaw, don’t pay attention to Crookedpaw. You know she means the best, even if her words don’t exactly sound that way,” Chickweedpaw lowered herself and nuzzled Climbingpaw affectionately. The tabby tom looked up at his friends and frowned, lip trembling as he held back tears. He pulled himself into a sitting position, and Chickweedpaw nodded enthusiastically. Her smile was huge as she leaned against her friend, and Crookedpaw took a wary step towards him. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, and Climbingpaw offered a weak smile. She nuzzled him affectionately, and several Beskyttere and Jagere stepped forward to lead Climbingpaw to his second attempt at his final assessment. “Good luck, not that you’ll need it!” Crookedpaw called in unison with Chickweedpaw, and the tom smiled as he left the camp.
“You still treat me as if I’ve only been alive for three moons!” Crookedpaw yelled, pinning her ears back as Blueberry narrowed his eyes and hissed at his Lærling. “I’m smarter than you! If anything, you should be my Lærling!” she shrieked, which caused Blueberry to take an angry step forward. “All you think about is strength and speed, but if you’d take just a second, you’d think of the ideas I’m having,” she snapped, turning around and racing off across the snowy ground. “You ungrateful fox-heart! I’m trying to prepare you to be the best Beskyttere this Clan has ever seen, but all you care about is yourself,” Blueberry spat as he raced after her. Crookedpaw skidded to a halt and raised herself onto her hind paws, letting herself fall forward to where her claws slammed across Blueberry’s shoulders. The classic tabby tom spun and swept his front paws beneath Crookedpaw’s back ones, sending the young molly crashing to the ground. The snow crunched beneath their paws as they engaged in a battle, Crookedpaw forcing herself beneath Bluberry and biting at his legs. The tom let out a shriek of pain, and he gripped the brown tabby tail beneath his teeth and pulled her backwards. Crookedpaw let out a shriek and scooped a pawful of snow across Blueberry’s eyes, temporarily blinding him. She forced her head into his chest, unbalancing him and sending him to the ground. Crookedpaw stood over him triumphantly, but Blueberry surged upwards and threw her to the side. Crookedpaw lay still, her chest barely rising asshe groaned in pain. Blueberry took a cautious step towards her, and her eyes snapped open. She rolled over and positioned her teeth neatly over Blueberry’s neck, putting just enough pressure so that he knew she could end it all if she wanted. “Crookedpaw! Please!” Blueberry cried. “I surrender!” Those two words made Crookedpaw take a happy step back, and she licked her paw before running it over her ear. “That’s all I needed. Get your head in my direction, and you’ll understand me. I’m not strong. I’m not fast. I never will be, but I know how to use that to my advantage. I can get beneath you and bite, but I don’t have to push you around. I don’t have to run around in circles and dancing to get close to you, I can trick you into coming close to me,” she meowed, and Blueberry’s eyes softened. “I’ll take that into mind,” he promised, and raised his eyes to the lowering sun. “Let’s get back so Briarprickle has enough time to check our scratches before the sun sets,” he purred, and Crookedpaw nodded. They didn’t walk side-by-side like friends, but they walked closer than they ever had before.
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Post by chaotic creativity on Sept 10, 2020 12:02:25 GMT -8
❄ Post 011 - New Names
“Climbingpaw, do you promise to protect this Clan with your life?” “I do.” “Do you promise to not hesitate before throwing yourself into harm’s way to protect your clanmates?” “I do.” “Do you promise to live by the law set before you by the gods and to enforce that law?” “I do.” “I hereby pronounce you as Climbingivy the Nedre Beskyttere. You will shadow Lichenbristle for your first moon in your new rank, and you will be allowed to take on a Lærling after your third moon. Welcome, Climbingivy,” Moosestar’s voice echoed and bounced off the cave walls. The large amount of cats who had gathered began cheering, and Climbingivy ducked his head in embarrassment. Chickweedpaw and Crookedpaw, the two Lærling who claimed to be Climbingivy’s best friends, surged forward and congratulated him. “I love the name Climbingivy,” he sighed happily, eyes dreamy as he thought of how nice it sounded. It was perfect, and that was all that mattered. Lichenbristle approached the new Nedre Beskyttere and introduced herself, a formality even though the two had said a few words in passing. “I look forward to shadowing you during this next moon,” the tabby tom purred happily. Lichenbristle dipped her head and smiled before going off in search of her newly pregnant best friend. “You’re going to be the best Beskyttere there’s ever been! That’s exactly what I want to do,” Chickweedpaw’s voice was very fast, and Climbingivy struggled to keep up. Crookedpaw bumped her shoulder against his and chuckled, shaking her head as she wondered why any cat would want to live their life putting themselves out to be injured at any second. “I know Crookedpaw here wants to be a Jagere, but I know she’s shown a lot of promise in her battle training,” Chickweedpaw nudged both of her friends and grinned. “While I appreciate the compliments, all I want is to spend my days gathering prey to feed the Clan that so easily accepted me. Trust me, I’m going to be a Jagere,” the brown tabby molly promised, and Climbingivy just rolled his eyes. “Chickweedpaw will obviously become Chickweedsap or Chickweedneedle, though my name will likely be Crookedpool or Crookedshadow,” she purred, and Chickweedpaw just rolled her eyes very obnoxiously. “While Chickweedsap sounds amazing, I’ll become Chickweedsong as a jab at my loud snoring. At least, that’s what Lichenbristle tells me. Crookedpaw would obviously become Crookedstrike, because she can overpower any cat without being strong or fast,” Chickweedpaw announced simply, as if it were the most obvious answer to any cat in the Clan. “Whatever you say,” Climbingivy nuzzled both his friends before turning to find Lichenbristle. “I’m going to steal your mentor for the day, Chickweedpaw. I need her to show me what patrolling is like!” he announced. Lærling didn’t usually go on patrols as it was often seen as too dangerous, but Climbingivy was now a Nedre Beskyttere. He needed to prove to Moosestar that it was the right decision.
“Bogkit, you are now six moons old and ready to become a Lærling. I have thought long and hard about your mentor, and it was not an easy choice. Ptarmiganflutter is eager to prove himself as an essential member to this Clan, and so I have granted him permission to become your mentor. Your name is now Bogpaw, and your training begins today,” Moosestar announced, and Bogpaw bounced forward to press his nose to Ptarmiganflutter’s. Bogpaw didn’t know Ptarmiganflutter, but he did know the tom’s daughter, Bellkit. “My name is Ptarmiganflutter, though I was originally called Dusknose of BuddingClan. When my Clan disbanded, I needed to be able to provide for my family, and what better way than by joining another Clan? I may be new, but don’t lose faith in me easily. I am here to beat the odds, and that includes training you in the best way possible,” the grey persian meowed with a smile, and Bogpaw nodded. He cast a wary glance over his shoulder at Dipperduo, the molly who had adopted him, but she gestured at him to go on. Bogpaw took a deep breath and followed Ptarmiganflutter out of the camp, and he immediately froze as his jaw dropped. The snow never seemed to end. The entire world was a layer of white and then a layer of blue with light fluffy clouds. He’d been in the nursery for so long that he’d forgotten what it looked like. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it. I would spend all my time outside if I wouldn’t freeze doing it,” Ptarmiganflutter chuckled, nudging Bogpaw gently. The young tom snapped his jaw shut and trotted after his mentor, eager to explore the territory and figure out where his new nest would be later that evening.
Moosestar padded across the camp, her tail wrapped neatly around her side so that no cat could even have a chance at stepping on it. She poked her head into the nursery to check on Briarprickle, who was supposed to check out a thorn in Moosestar’s rear leg, but she froze as she saw two familiar pelts mingling among the other Kattunge. She was flung backwards to the day where she had kitted and given all of them to Hickorywind, or so she thought. “Briarprickle!” she hissed, and the Helbreder joined the Dronning outside. “What can I do for-” “How are two of my Kattunge in the nursery?” she hissed, leading the Helbreder outside the camp and down to the frozen shoreline so that the two had no chance of hearing her. Briarprickle tested a paw on a small chunk of ice, but she jerked her paw back at how much the cold stung. Moosestar sat impatiently, flicking her tail back and forth to display her displeasure. “You left them behind, Dronning Moosestar. It’s you’re fault, and it’s high time you start becoming a true mother to them,” Briarprickle snapped, but Moosestar shook her head. “Avensstripe has been taking care of them, along with the newly named Woolykit and Gullkit. They need you because you were stupid and left them behind,” the torbie growled, but Moosestar just shook her head again. “Flicker is angry with me for letting their father be a cat outside of our Clan. My punishment is that I cannot be a part of their life, and I’m fine with it. I should never have charmed Hickorywind or let Hickorywind charm me. I have no attachment to either of them, and so I should never be with them,” the Dronning meowed simply and turned to leave. “Never tell them who their real mother is. I don’t want them getting hurt,” she snapped before heading back towards the camp.
Bogpaw took a wary step into the Lærling den and was delighted to see Crookedpaw and Chickweedpaw waiting to welcome him. “Welcome to the best den, Bogpaw! You can have a nest anywhere, but don’t sleep right next to us, okay? We’re getting close to our final assessments and would prefer you be able to have a section all to yourself so that others can join you as you join,” Chickweedpaw meowed with a smile. Bogpaw opened his mouth, but he closed it and padded a few fox-lengths away. He settled into a moss-filled hollow, one he suspected the other two had already made for him. He sighed and peered through the growing darkness, suddenly wishing Dipperduo was there to whisper a story as he fell asleep. He missed feeling her fur curled around him as he woke from his dreams. He missed her so deeply that he got up and padded the to Beskyttere den. “Dipperduo? I can’t sleep,” he whispered quietly, and the black molly with heterochromia stood and followed her adopted son out to the main camp. “I know it’s scary, but it’ll be okay. I’m here if you have any bad dreams, but you have to learn to sleep without me sometime,” the molly whispered, careful not to wake their sleeping clanmates. Bogpaw nodded sadly, but Dipperduo settled down and wrapped herself around her son. “The truth is, I missed you too. Just for tonight,” she meowed through a yawn, and Bogpaw settled down next to her. They were both asleep within seconds.
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Post by chaotic creativity on Sept 10, 2020 12:14:31 GMT -8
❄ Post 012 - A Warning
“Where am I?” Briarprickle whispered in awe as she felt the softness of grass run across her paws for the first time since she had joined Katter av den Frosne Øya. A furless tom appeared in the Helbreder’s eyesight, but he ducked behind a bush. “Hello?” she called, approaching the bush. She paused and stretched her neck, checking behind the leaves for the cat. As she saw no cat was there, a paw connected with her flank. Briarprickle shot straight into the air with a shriek before she fell onto her paws and gasped for air. “My name is Coral, and I am the king of the gods. I called you here, to the afterlife, to relay a message into your paws. While I typically converse with the Dronning, she has turned her back on me. You must bring her back into her faith or I will be forced to strip her lives from her,” the hairless tom meowed, running his tongue across his paw slowly. Briarprickle shook her head and scoffed, knowing exactly that Coral was asking her to do the impossible. “Dronning Moosestar will never listen to me. I’m just a lowly healer, a Helbreder if you wish. She holds me no higher in her consideration than a Kattunge. When Dronning Moosestar turns her back on the gods, there is no calling her back,” Briarprickle snapped, but Coral just regarded her coolly. “I know you may have some mystical faith in me, but that faith is very surely misplaced. Not once have I ever got her to listen to me,” she sighed and sat, pulling her tail closer. Coral looked at the living cat with a smile, a smile that held back unending rage. “Briarprickle, I asked you here to do a mission for me. Are you telling me that you decline my request, the request of the king of the afterlife?” he asked slowly, his voice thin and strained. Briarprickle nodded, and he surged forward. Briarprickle was pinned the ground, claws held menacingly over her throat. “That is enough for me to send you to Ink and Spider’s domain. Those two mollies could break you, break your mind, just for disobeying my order,” he whispered, his voice dripping with venom and malice. Briarprickle didn’t even blink. “If you ask me to do the impossible, then I am going to say no,” she jutted her chin out and forced her neck closer to Coral’s extended claws. The king of the afterlife narrowed his eyes and took a step back, nodding and mumbling something to himself. Briarprickle pulled herself to her paws and shook the dirt from her pelt, pausing to lick it clean. “I knew I made the right choice in you,” Coral muttered, and Briarprickle looked at him in confusion. “Do not forget what I asked you to do,” he called, not even turning to look. It was then that the tabby tortoiseshell realized the afterlife was fading. She stood completely still, her face emotionless as she knew she had just been handed an impossible task and was expected to deliver. Briarprickle rose from her nest and sighed, not even pausing as she crossed the camp and stepped into Moosestar’s den. The Dronning lifted her head slowly, blinking sleep from her eyes as she did so. “Briarprickle? What are you doing so early? Is something wrong?” her speech was slurred as she was still far from being fully awake. Briarprickle sat down and stared at the Dronning, silently preparing herself for what was clearly about to be a fight. “Coral just appeared to me in a dream. He told me that you must turn your faith back to the gods or face being stripped of your title as Dronning,” the Helbreder meowed slowly, and Moosestar just laughed. She threw back her head and guffawed, her eyes closed and crying from how violently her body was shaking. Briarprickle scooted backwards, suddenly afraid of the tabby calico’s outburst. “That hairless idiot thinks he can take my title? I have nine lives! Nine lives that I can live and he can do nothing about it. He’s stupid for asking this of you,” she chuckled, and Briarprickle narrowed her eyes. “He probably threatened to kill you and send you to Ink and Spider’s domain, of course, but I could care less. You mean nothing to me, but this Clan is everything. Sorry, Briarprickle, but we’re done here,” she snapped, and began pushing the Helbreder from her den. Rollingfog turned and ran from the den as she heard Briarprickle being shoved towards the entrance. Her pelt prickled uneasily as she watched Moosestar laugh and disappear, and her heart gave a useless thump. “I love you, Moosestar,” she whispered and began approaching the den. As she entered, Moosestar glared at her. “Moosestar… I love-” Rollingfog was cut off by the Dronning’s tail. “I know you love me, but nothing you say can change my mind. Coral can’t take lives he didn’t give me,” Moosestar meowed. “I’m sorry, Rollingfog, but I just don’t love you. Leave me alone so I can go back to my lovely mouse-filled dreams,” she meowed and curled into her nest. Rollingfog let her head drop, and she began to leave the den. She collided with Briarprickle, who was obvioously hoping for good news, but Rollingfog just shook her head. She could see Briarprickle grow visibly awkward, but she just shrugged and trailed off to her den, hoping to sleep away the rejection that had shattered her heart.
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Post by chaotic creativity on Sept 10, 2020 12:24:58 GMT -8
❄ Post 013 - Mistakes, Mistakes, and More Mistakes
“There’s rogues on the edge of the territory,” Sunglare announced slowly, and Birchdapple, Blueberry, Buntingswirl, and Ptarmiganflutter all nodded. They were all thinking of the discarded prey bones and scattered blood drops, obvious signs of a messy group of cats. Obviously they were rogues because of the cleared snow and clawmarks, signs of fighting which typically happened with cats that lived in a group with no rules at all. “We have to be cautious. Rogues are a dangerous type,” he warned, and Birchdapple stepped forward to back his mate up silently. “Increase border patrols. It’s all my fault,” Moosestar whispered, dropping her head in a clear move of defeat. Sunglare prepared to take a step forward, but Birchdapple circled a paw around his chest and held him back. Moosestar slumped onto her belly and pushed her paw beneath her nose. “I shouldn’t have dismissed Coral’s warning so easily. I will begin patrolling immediately as a way to prove I am willing to die for my clanmates,” she murmured, but Sunglare shook his head. “Moosestar, you’re our Dronning. We need you here to command us and to listen to your council. You shouldn’t put yourself out there to be injured as a punishment, and so I am not allowing it,” Birchdapple announced, the most words any cat had ever heard in one sitting come from his mouth. Sunglare gaped at his mate, and Moosestar struggled into a sitting position. “We will deal with the rogues when the time comes,” he meowed and sat down, his mouth sealing until the next time he deemed it necessary to speak. Ptarmiganflutter and Buntingswirl watched the Dronning warily, as if she might stand up and bolt for the camp entrance, but she did no such thing. She just nodded and agreed, giving up so easily that the entire patrol began to worry about her. “Dronning Moosestar,” Ptarmiganflutter paused, addressing her formally as he wasn’t a friend in the way Sunglare, Birchdapple, and Blueberry were. “You are the strongest leader I have seen, and I have entered many camps. Yet here… here I chose to stay. That speaks to me, and so you must protect yourself. The Clan is still young, and so it needs you. We need you, Dronning Moosestar,” he meowed, and the silver caliby looked at him slowly. “Thank you, Ptariganflutter. I needed that,” she admitted, flexing her claws as she regained her composure. Moosestar took a deep breath, and when she looked back up, her eyes were set and determined. “Double the patrols immediately. Take Hertuger or Hertuginne or even Jagere if you need to, but no cat goes out alone. Lærling must be accompanied by two adults at all times,” she snapped, her voice quick and sharp like it used to be. A smile crept across Buntingswirl’s face, and Moosestar shot a glare at him. “Don’t smile at me! Get to work!”
Moosestar watched the chubby molly waddle across the camp with a large smile. “Hello, Harpwind. You’re looking lovely today,” Moosestar purred, running her tail under the molly’s chin. Harpwind stiffened and looked at the Dronning in confusion, but Moosestar just smiled and nudged her, making the classic tabby jump nearly out of her fur. “You’re always welcome in my den,” the Dronning purred, her voice just soft enough that Harpwind could hear and no other cat could. “Moosestar… I think you’ve got the wrong impression,” Harpwind murmured, but Moosestar shook her head. “I’m not interested in you, Moosestar. My heart still belongs to a molly at my old home,” she tried to explain, but Moosestar pressed her nose to Harpwind’s ear and began whispering. Harpwind’s eyes ran across the beautiful pelt next to her, and she felt her heart begin to beat faster. She could smell the sweet scent of pollen and nectar on Moosestar’s neck, but she scolded herself for thinking such things. “Harpwind, you’re beautiful,” Moosestar whispered and then stepped away. “You’re always welcome in my den,” she chirped cheerily, punctuating the sentence with a wink. As Moosestar walked away, Harpwind’s eyes followed her until they couldn’t any longer. By the time Moosestar had disappeared, Harpwind had come back to her senses and was remembering the many days she had spent with her former mate. She couldn’t stop the memories of her former mate’s death, though, and she longed to lay by a cat’s side so that the haunting nightmares could no longer reach her mind. No cat could know she had been the cause of Dakota’s death.
“Hirculusstem would be a wonderful mentor for our little Harbourkit,” Sunglare meowed, and Birchdapple nodded happily. “Harbourkit needs a cat to mellow her out, and what better than a mentor who prefers to wait for the prey to leap into his paws?” Birchdapple sighed and nodded, remembering the many times his daughter had awoken him from a nap. Harbourkit was energetic, that was for certain, and she definitely needed a mentor who would willingly not keep up with her and therefore calm her down. “I’m not so sure about a mentor for Sealkit, though Buntingswirl seems nice enough. I think they would pair well together,” Birchdapple meowed, his eyes latching onto his son who was currently stalking a tail that stuck out from the bottom of the prey pile. Birchdapple flinched as Sealkit pounced, the entire prey pile becoming unstable and toppling onto the top of the little tom. The fathers sighed and stood, crossing the camp to dig their son out of a pool of fresh-kill. “Narhwalkit is a bit tricky, though. He’s shy around cats he doesn’t know, but he’s extremely trusting and outgoing around those he does. He won’t know his mentor at first, so he’ll need one who can handle a shy Lærling. But he’ll also get to know his mentor and so he’ll need one who is also able to handle an outgoing Lærling very well,” Sunglare murmured, resting his chin on Birchdapple’s paws. “Harpwind!” Birchdapple purred brightly, and Sunglare leaped to his paws and nodded. Harpwind was gentle and kind but also was surprisingly able to keep up with fast-paced cats. She was perfect! How did he not see that earlier. “Let’s go tell Moosestar our suggestions!” Sunglare chirped and began bouncing towards the Dronning’s den.
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Post by chaotic creativity on Sept 10, 2020 12:33:20 GMT -8
❄ Post 014 - Previous Fears
Sealkit, Harbourkit, and Narwhalkit all stood anxiously as the cats of the Clan gathered before Moosestar. Sunglare and Birchdapple were quickly cleaning and grooming them, rushing through the motions that usually took a while to complete. Sealkit twisted away from his fathers while Harbourkit willingly stepped into Birchdapple’s way to get her fur groomed. Narwhalkit stayed between Sunglare’s paws, peering out anxiously at the surrounding cats. “Today we gather to celebrate the beginning of new Lærling. Sunglare and Birchdapple have blessed the Clan with the first Kattunge, and they are now ready to begin their training. Their first moon of training will be spent inside the camp, as it is still too dangerous for them to go out into the territory. I was very relaxed with Bogpaw, but a near accident has made it clear that no cat may leave the camp until after they are seven moons old,” Moosestar announced, her voice cold and emotionless. “Sealkit, your mentor will be Buntingswirl. Harbourkit, your mentor will be Hirculusstem. Narwhalkit, your mentor will be Harpwind. Your fathers recommended these mentors and I couldn’t be bothered to disagree with them. You are dismissed,” Moosestar’s voice grew strained as she grazed over the ceremony and disappeared into the den. Harbourpaw looked up at her fathers with big, sad eyes and her bottom lip began to quiver. Sunglare glared after the leader and raked his claws through the dust before leaping into her spot and calling the Clan back together. “These three Kattunge are special and deserve more than our Dronning gave them. My first Kattunge is energetic and bright, intelligent beyond belief, and eager to leave the nest. Birchdapple and I thought long and hard about this Kattunge’s potential mentor before we decided on Buntingswirl. Buntingswirl is able to keep up with our son, physically and mentally, and we couldn’t think of a better cat to train Sealkit,” Sunglare announced, and the two cats approached each other. Buntingswirl leaned down and pressed his nose to Sealpaw’s, smiling and whispering a few words of encouragement. Sunglare smiled as the two cats wandered to a corner for Buntingswirl to explain his expectations to his new Lærling, and he didn’t notice Birchdapple approach him and begin addressing the crowd. “Our next Kattunge is our one and only daughter, the sweetest young molly I have ever known. She is too hyper for her own good, never seeming to slow down. We knew right away that Hirculusstem was the right mentor for her after hearing the stories of his patience and ability to wait for prey to leap into his paws. We trust him to watch our little Harbourkit,” he purred, and the two cats pressed their noses together. Harbourpaw followed Hirculusstem to where Sealpaw and Buntingswirl stood, bouncing up and down as she squealed with excitement. “Finally, we have our last son who we struggled to think of a mentor for. This tom is shy and nervous, never seeming to leave our paws. We needed a kind cat we knew could draw him out of his shell, and what better cat than Harpwind. We have never seen her angry, and we know she would be the best at helping Narwhalkit through his fears,” Sunglare’s voice rang throughout the cave, and he watched as the classic tabby molly approached Narwhalpaw slowly. He leaned away from her at first, but then quickly surged towards her and bumped his nose into hers before jerking back. Birchdapple and Sunglare leaned against each other, smiling as their three children padded off with their mentors, but they felt Moosestar glaring at them. They turned together and met her flaming eyes, but they both stood taller and stared her down. Moosestar finally gave up and ducked back into her den, leaving the mates to watch as the entire Clan cheered for Sealpaw, Harbourpaw, and Narhwalpaw.
Avensstripe purred as she padded along the border, stretching her legs after spending so long in the nursery that she could barely think. She loved her Kattunge dearly, but the time to herself was wonderful. Her thoughts wandered as she reached the edge of the territory. She paused to stretch, but she froze as a scent brushed across her. Her eyes widened as her heart began to race, and she turned and fled. She had to get away, and so she flew across the territory towards the camp.
“Last one to the ice is a scrap of moldy moss!” Chickweedpaw shrieked as she raced out of the camp and towards the shoreline. Climbingivy bolted past her, his long legs yet small body proving him to be faster than the other Lærling. Crookedpaw lagged behind, her paws not quite as fast nor her body quite as agile as her friends’. Her sides heaved as she gasped for air, her paws slipping and sliding across the frozen ground as she reached the ice after Chickweedpaw and Climbingivy. Crookedpaw’s paws slid out from under her and her chin slammed against the ground, slinging her forward until her rear slid off the ice and into the freezing water. Crookedpaw shrieked from the cold, and her companions reached forward and dragged her back onto the ice, moving to her hind paws and tail. Chickweedpaw licked her fur the wrong way to encourage it to dry faster, and Climbingivy began pacing. “Should I fetch Blueberry? He’ll be angry, but Crookedpaw could freeze!” he wailed, eyes wide as he tried to bolt for the camp but then returned. Chickweedpaw rolled her eyes, and Crookedpaw pulled herself into a sitting position. She was shivering, but not enough to cause alarm. “I’m fine, Climbingivy, just a little cold,” she meowed around the chatter of her teeth. Climbingivy’s eyes were wide with worry, but he forced himself to calm down and approached Crookedpaw slowly. “I would tell you if I needed help, I promise,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his gently. He was her best friend, and she wasn’t about to allow him to worry. Climbingivy nodded slowly and took a deep breath, sitting back and watching his two friends with sharp eyes. “As long as nobody gets hurt, I’ll be fine,” he promised, though Chickweedpaw and Crookedpaw both knew something would happen to make him get nervous again. They loved him dearly, even if he often ran to fetch the older cats for minor instances.
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Post by chaotic creativity on Sept 10, 2020 12:43:45 GMT -8
❄ Post 015 - Imagine if Happiness Could Be Achieved
Skuasoar sniffed the air as she slid along the border, her ears up and her tail down as she waited for cats to cross the border. She could feel her heart fluttering as she traced the scent she’d smelled all the way at the other end of the territory, followed the pawsteps that had weaved back and forth across the border. The birds chirped and sang brightly, as if the hope inside of the blue lynx point molly had poured out of her and brightened the world. She could feel the joy, the happiness, the longing underneath her skin like claws, threatening to rip her into shreds if she didn’t find what she was looking for. “Skua? Is that you?” The voice was hoarse and croaked with misuse, as if the owner hadn’t spoken in moons. The Hertuginne spun on her hind left paw, snow spraying in an arc around her, and she landed facing a tom who looked nearly identical to her. Tears sprang into her eyes as she surged forward, pushing her nose into his thick neck fur as she let out the sobs she’d held back ever since the day she had lost him. “Puffin, I thought you were dead. When I smelled you, I thought it couldn’t be true, but I followed it anyway. I thought the fox had stolen you from me, but I would’ve stayed and tried to find you if I’d known you were alive,” she whispered, the words pouring out involuntarily. Puffin was stiff, but he softened and curled around Skuasoar gently. “I nearly did die, Skua. I saw mother and father, but then they were gone. I dragged myself from the fox’s den, though my wounds never healed the best,” he paused and looked at his legs, which were crisscrosssed with angry red clawmarks. “I knew I had to find you, and so I began searching. I heard rumors of a group and remembered you telling me of that dream you had, and here I am. I found you, Skua, so please help me,” his voice shook as his legs began to crumble beneath him. Skuasoar forced her shoulder beneath him and held him up on unsteady legs. “I can get you to our Helbreder, Briarprickle. I can help her nurse you back to health. I won’t leave your side, Puffin,” the molly promised, and he looked at her with a sad smile. “I’ll never let my littermate be alone again,” she murmured, forcing one paw in front of the other as she began to lead her injured brother to the camp she now called home. Her heart was happy since she had found the one she’d lost. Skuasoar silently promised herself to never leave those she loved behind ever again, and she turned to see Puffin’s eyes droop closed from exhaustion. She huffed and groaned, but she didn’t complain. She had to do this, if not for Puffin then for their parents.
Borealrust leaned against Ptarmiganflutter lovingly as they exited the camp. Bellpaw had left with her mentor earlier in the day, and the parents had worked out that they could come watch the training session to see their daughter’s progress for themselves. “She’s such a strong little molly,” Borealrust sighed, raising her eyes to the sky happily. She’d seemed so much more relaxed ever since they had moved into Katter av den Frosne Øya, and Ptarmiganflutter was happy to see his mate doing well. They reached the top of a hill and looked down to see Bellpaw charging at Sunglare with outstretched paws. She gripped his shoulders and flung her weight to the side, bringing him down onto his ribs and forcing the air out of his lungs. Ptarmiganflutter froze, holding Borealrust back so as not to disturb the training. His eyes narrowed in on the way his daughter used Sunglare’s own weight against him, and he silently praised her for remembering the many things her mentor had taught her. Bellpaw was panting as she stood over her mentor, pinning him down. Borealrust cheered loudly and rushed towards her, nuzzling her affectionately to praise her. Ptarmiganflutter followed and pulled Bellpaw close with his paws. “I’m so proud of you, dragonfly,” he whispered, using the nickname he had given her when she was just a moon old. Bellpaw squirmed away from his grasp and turned to help Sunglare to his paws. “You alright there?” the grey tom asked. “I’m fine. Bellpaw is quite skilled, and she has become able to bruise my legs during our sparring. I’ll need to rest until these heal,” he chuckled and began limping towards the camp. Ptarmiganflutter twirled to face his daughter and smiled, bumping his shoulder against hers lightheartedly. “I’m proud of you, Bellpaw,” he purred, and turned to look at the setting sun. “Why don’t we find a nice vole and eat while the sun sets? That was always your favorite thing when you were a Kattunge,” the father offered, and Bellpaw nodded eagerly. With a happy sigh, the family turned towards their camp to find food.
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Post by chaotic creativity on Sept 10, 2020 12:53:25 GMT -8
❄ Post 016 - The Pain of the Past
The ghost tabby tom crouched low against the snow, the small flakes grasping his belly fur and knotting it together. A smaller molly was pressed against his side and shivering, looking up at his face with the absolute wonder only a young cat could possess. “Rose, you have to remember not to mention where we came from. These Clan cats do not like rogues, even former rogues like ourselves. We are new cats as of right now, and our past is dead,” he whispered, his lips peeling back to reveal yellowed teeth that still gleamed with sharpness. The molly, a beautiful silvery gold molly with rosettes, nodded and pressed herself closer into his fur. As three cats crested the hill, the wind switched directions and began carrying the two ex-rogues’ scents towards the patrol. The dark tom cursed under his breath and rose to his paws, running his tail across his companion’s spine to encourage her to stand and present herself as well. Seconds passed as the patrol froze and locked eyes with the strangers on the border, and the leader quickly broke into a run. Snow skidded beneath the lilac colorpoint’s paws as she soared over the fresh blanket and slid to a halt as her nose came within a foxlength of the tom’s. “Who are you and why do you dare wait on the edge of Katter av den Frosne Øya’s territory?” she snarled as her patrol members, a solid black molly and a solid chocolate tom, reached her and stood on either side of her. The tom dipped his head respectfully and nudged Rose to do the same. After bowing, he straightened and stared the colorpoint directly in the eye, his gaze not wavering as he began explaining a lie. “We are but a pair of loners in search of a new home. This is Rose, the daughter of one of my closest friends. I am Frost,” his voice was low and soothing, leaving Rose hanging off of his every word. The part of her father being his best friend was no lie, and it was the reason Rose was so close to Frost. It had become evident to the patrol that she practically worshiped him, her eyes never leaving his face. “I am Lanatafade. These are Dipperduo and Hirculusstem. We are fierce beskyttere of the Clan. We will take you to meet with Moosestar, but there are no guarantees that she will allow you to stay. She very well could send you on your way without a second glance,” she warned, but Frost took a step towards Lanatafade without even blinking. Rose scurried after him, as if she believed she would be left behind if her shoulder was not equal with his. Dipperduo eyed the young molly warily, wishing she had the courage to speak up and tell her that such adoration was unhealthy, but she kept her muzzle shut and followed along behind. “Dronning Moosestar! We found these two waiting on the border. They claim to be loners,” Lanatafade called as the five cats entered the camp. Rose’s eyes were wide as she surveyed the main cavern, her head turning from left to right as she scanned everything she could see. Frost leaned down to whisper something to her, and she quickly pulled her expression into a neutral and looked straight ahead. Dipperduo broke off from the patrol, knowing she was no longer needed, and joined the group of cats that had gathered to witness the potential naming ceremony. Moosestar’s eyes ran up and down the two cats quickly, assessing their builds and their personalities just from their expressions and stances. She cleared her throat and pushed her way into the center of the crowd, forcing the cats to turn and look directly at her. “Coral has graced us with new members to strengthen our ranks!” she cried, and the group cheered. Rose flinched, leaning into Frost in the way a kit might do to their mother or father. “Frost, you will become a Nedre Beskyttere and take on the name Sablefrost. As it seems that young Rose here is quite comfortable with you, she will assume the name Marbledpaw and you will become her mentor. She is too young to be a jagere or a beskyttere quite yet,” the Dronning announced. The crowd erupted into cheers, chanting “Sablefrost! Marbledpaw!” in a chorus of voices. The tom stretched his ears and puffed out his chest, soaking in the praise as if he were feeding off of it. His eyes searched through the crowd and landed on one cat, one side of his mouth curling upwards in the smallest smirk. Marbledpaw grinned as several other Lærling rushed up to her, eager to show her where her nest would be. “Go on, Marbledpaw. We’ll get another cat to come and show us both the territory once you’re settled in,” Sablefrost encouraged, and the bengal molly rushed off after the cats she hoped she could become friends with.
“Orion! Kitty, kitty, kitty!” The molly could barely think as she streaked out of the twoleg nest and into the ending expanse of white. She gasped for air as she skidded to a halt and spun in a circle. She could see the outline of the small collection of twoleg nests that she’d spent her entire life in, but her heart tugged her to turn her head. As she listened, she saw the rolling hills and the beautiful plant life that persevered through some of the harshest environments to ever exist. She took a deep breath, inhaling snowflakes and loving every second of it. She felt her paws begin to carry her into the unknown, but she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes from her former home. She remembered all the warm nights curled up in her twoleg’s lap. She remembered the crackling fire and her warm nest right in front of it. She remembered the easy meals. She remembered the love and care she always received. Orion swallowed as she pulled her eyes away and felt a tear stroll casually down her cheek. Her throat was tight, and her lip trembled as the sadness poured over her like waves on a beach. “Goodbye,” she whispered quietly as the roar of the wind rose to a cacophony. Orion began to count her breaths as she calmed herself, wishing for all the worries to melt away. As she reached a cliffside, her paws carried her down as if they knew where they were taking her. “Hello?” she called warily, and several sets of eyes peered out of a cave at her. A beautiful silver calico molly stepped out and stared down at Orion, her eyes harsh and her mouth a thin line. Orion couldn’t help but cower beneath her stare, lowering herself to the ground and presenting herself as anything but a threat. The molly snorted, as if she was pleased by Orion’s fear. A paw prodded her in the side, and she rose to her paws and felt her legs begin to tremble as she looked around her. “I can smell the fear on you, little one. Stand and present yourself,” the molly announced regally, and Orion looked at her in confusion. Orion stilled her shivers and held her chin high, nervous that she would be sent away with more than a stern word if she didn’t. “Orion?” she asked, running her claws underneath Orion’s pale blue collar. “Such a strong, independant name. Orion, you will now be known as Orionstrike, a Lavere Jagere of Katter av den Frosne Øya. My name is Moosestar, Dronning of this Clan,” she purred, her voice silky and smooth. Orionstrike froze as the claws tightened around her throat, sinking through the material of her collar and tearing it from her neck. “You must get rid of this sign of weakness,” Moosestar announced before leading her clanmates into the camp. The bengal molly froze as the scrap that housed what she believed to be her identity landed on her paws. She ran her tongue across her lips, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she flexed her claws and began to dig. She filled in the hole quickly and gathered the collar between her teeth, rushing into the camp to where she was told her nest would be. She buried her collar inside of the moss that would cushion her as she slept, the small memory of her past nestled deep inside of it. She pressed her nose to it, smelling the comforting aroma that reminded her of what had once been home. She wasn’t quite ready to give it up, but that was alright with her. She was ready to embrace her future, but she didn’t want to fully abandon her past.
“You’ll do wonderfully,” Climbingivy promised as he stood beside Chickweedpaw and Climbingpaw at the camp entrance. Chickweedpaw was preparing to leave on her final assessment, a several hour long ordeal in which she would show off the skills she had learned from her mentor. She shuffled her paws anxiously as she peered across the camp, wondering if she would be receiving her full name the next time she was inside. “Trust me, it’s a lot easier than you think. You think I would have passed if it was hard?” Climbingivy stifled a laugh, but Chickweedpaw just smiled at him. “You know everything you need to know. You had a wonderful mentor, and a simple mistake will not prevent you from taking your place among the Jagere or Beskyttere,” Crookedpaw swore, not exactly knowing which path her friend would take. Chickweedpaw smiled before puffing her chest out and wandering closer to where her mentor was waiting. “You’ll return just to get your new name,” Crookedpaw promised, and Chickweedpaw just blushed as she followed her mentor’s disappearing tail.
Moosestar held her head high as Salixkit and Lychniskit were led towards her. These are your kits, her mind whispered, but she flicked her tail as if she were waving away an unwanted pest. “We gather here today to witness the naming of two new Lærling, two Kattunge with unknown parents,” Moosestar paused and let her gaze pierce the crowd, daring them to speak up and contradict her. “Salixkit, you will now be known as Salixpaw. You will be mentored by Lanatafade, a very capable Seniorbeskyttere. I have seen her strength and her willpower to teach those younger than her, and I know you two will be a good pairing,” Moosestar felt her heart swell with pride as she watched the two cats press their noses to each other, but she quickly smothered it and kept her tone and expression neutral. “Next is Lychniskit. I have decided that Puffincry shall be your mentor. He may be new, but he will prove to be outstanding if he is anything like his sister,” Moosestar kept her speech short and precise, watching Skuasoar intently as the molly rose to her paws and cheered loudly for her brother’s new Lærling. The meeting seemed to come to a natural close as cats broke apart to congratulate Lychnispaw and Salixpaw, but Oystersnap quickly sought Moosestar out and led her into her den. Oystersnap calmly sat and patted the ground across from him, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he watched the Dronning sit and pull her tail close to her paws. “You must be crazy to continue to deprive those two of their mother,” he murmured, his voice kind and gentle but his words sharper than any claws Moosestar had faced. “They need you, Moosestar, and they could very easily be led astray without your guidance. I understand that Coral forbade you from being a part of their lives, but there are times when you must disobey the gods. This is one of those times,” Oystersnap added quickly, making sure Moosestar knew what he meant. She scored her claws through the moss of her nest, tears threatening to spill as her voice choked on her words. “I watch them every day, Oystersnap, knowing they grew up without the love and care they deserved. I see how close they are to Rollingfog and Avensstripe, and it kills me. Still, I dare not disobey Coral in fear of what he would do to them. It would destroy me to know I had their blood on my paws,” she whispered, and Oystersnap crossed the space in less than a second. He curled himself around the Dronning protectively, whispering comforting words as the grief and sorrow of watching her Kattunge grow up without her poured from her like a waterfall. Her chest heaved as it felt like claws tore through her pelt, pain ripping through her and leaving her like an open wound. “I need them as much as they need me,” she whimpered, sliding down until her chin was on her Hertuger’s paws. “All these moons I tried to hide it, but I don’t know if I can anymore. I’m just so scared,” her voice died, and Oystersnap laid down beside her. “I know, Moosestar, I know,” he whispered, over and over again.
“Have you seen Avensstripe?” Rollingfog asked Ospreyfrost gently, and the lynx point molly lifted her head and blinked the lingering traces of sleep from her eyes. Woollykit and Gullkit peered out from behind Rollingfog’s legs anxiously, their eyes wide with fear. “These two say they can’t seem to find her, and they’re beginning to grow worried,” she explained, and Ospreyfrost just shook her head. “Let’s go find Oystersnap. He knows everything that goes on inside the Clan,” she murmured soothingly, and the Kattunge following the molly to where the grey tom was helping organize the day’s patrols. “I can’t say I have,” he responded after hearing Rollingfog’s question. “Has any cat seen Avensstripe today?” he called, and the entire Clan began to shake their heads. Worry bubbled in Rollingfog’s stomach as she began to rush for the camp entrance. The picked up Avensstripe’s scent, but it was stale; she hadn’t crossed the camp entrance in over a day. Gullkit began to wail miserably at the thought of his mother being missing, and Rollingfog rushed to his side. She whispered soothing words, promising that Avensstripe would come back while masking the own terror she felt. “I’ll organize search parties immediately,” Oystersnap promised, and called the best tracking Jagere and Beskyttere and sent them out in search of the missing mother.
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Post by chaotic creativity on Sept 14, 2020 11:15:18 GMT -8
❄ Post 017 - The First Fatality
“Coral sent me to be the final Hertuger of this Clan,” Papaver explained as he trotted alongside Aurora. He was older than she was, but not by much. He was a very fatherly tom, and she enjoyed that about his company. She nodded as he explained the dream in which the hairless tom appeared to him and explained what his destiny would be. She smiled as they crested a hill, and he froze as he spotted the ocean. “It’s beautiful, is it not?” he whispered, his voice soft as the waves crashed against the ice that crusted the bank. Aurora nodded and began to slip down the side of the cliff, her paws finding places to slip into the face and not allow her to fall. She had always been an expert climber, and the challenge of sliding down the cliff without disturbing so much as a pebble was an enjoyable experience. Papaver chuckled as he slid down a well-worn path, the one Aurora had seen and chosen not to follow. She dropped onto the lip that extended out of the cave entrance, landing neatly beside Papaver in front of a patrol that had been about to leave. Their eyes were wide and they flattened their ears as they hissed, but Papaver smoothed his pelt and straightened his spine. He wanted to look threatening, but not as if he was about to fight them. The patrol stood down as he began to speak, and a grey tom approached him with a smile. “My name is Oystersnap, and I am also a Hertuger. Why don’t I introduce you to Moosestar, Skuasoar, and Saxifragepetal while Climbingivy shows Aurora here around the camp. A ceremony will be held later to name you both,” Oystersnap explained, and a tabby tom stepped forward to introduce himself to Aurora. She smiled at him and padded after him, taking in the camp slowly and noting where her nest would be in both the Lavere Jagere den and the Nedre Beskyttere den. The ceremony went by in a flash, and Climbingivy disappeared among the Beskyttere and Orionstrike, a similarly aged molly who was a Jagere introduced herself to Aurorashine. “I’ll help you out these first few days,” she promised, and Aurorashine nodded slowly. “You can have your nest next to mine if you wish,” she chirped, and patted a small nest made of moss beside a smaller, more flattened nest of moss. Aurorashine blinked at her thankfully and slid into the nest, curling into the softness of it and sighing. Orionstrike was extremely nice, but Aurorashine wasn’t quite sure what she made of the Clan so far.
“Chickweedpaw has trained for many moons and excelled in all assessments thrown at her, including the final assessment which she passed with flying colors. It is high time that she join the ranks of the Nedre Beskyttere, her chosen path,” Moosestar announced, and the gathered Clan cheered brightly for the young black and white molly. She felt her chest swell with pride as she saw Climbingivy and Crookedpaw with their heads back, yowling the loudest. “Chickweedpaw, do you promise to uphold our code of law and to defend the Clan until your dying breath?” Moosestar turned to face her, and she took a deep breath. There was no going back after this point. “I do,” her voice rang loud and true around the camp, and several cats let out a cheer. “Then I present you with your new name. You will now be known as Chickweedsap, the newest member of the Nedre Beskyttere,” Moosestar purred, pressing her nose to Chickweedsap’s before the young molly dashed towards her friends. Climbingivy and Crookedpaw circled her excitedly as she ran her new name over her tongue as many times as she could. Moosestar curled her tail at how happy Chickweedsap looked, and she spotted Dipperduo rushing towards her former Lærling to congratulate her. It almost seemed like everything was normal, even if Avensstripe still hadn’t been found.
“I know you can do better than that!” Sablefrost cried as Marbledpaw slunk around him in a circle. She lashed out with a paw and tapped her toes against Sablefrost’s front right leg, hooking it out from under him and launching herself through the air. She landed on top of him and scored her toes across his belly, her teeth gently clasped around his throat, mimicking the killing blows she had been taught. “Place your paws on both sides of my head,” Sablefrost instructed calmly. “If you want a quick, bloodless way to kill a cat, twist your paws very quickly and with as much force as you can. This will snap their spine and kill them instantly,” his voice rumbled through her ears, and she nodded, twisting his head with her paws slowly. Sablefrost had been teaching Marbledpaw to kill for moons, and she was an exceptionally fast learner. She did anything she was asked, and she could mimic Sablefrost’s instructional movements with ease on the first try. He admired that about his Lærling, but he could hear cats approaching the training hollow and he didn’t want them to know the way he was training her. “Hello,” Blueberry grumbled as Crookedpaw followed him with a bright smile. “We just wanted to do a few last second drills before this one goes on her final assessment. You wouldn’t mind us borrowing Marbledpaw, would you?” he asked, and Sablefrost just shook his head, sweeping his tail towards his Lærling. She charged at Crookedpaw, sliding beneath her belly and surging upwards, unbalancing the larger and clumsier molly before bringing her paws down on the center of her back. Marbledpaw twisted like a weasel, spinning away from her opponent with ease and grace unlike any Crookedpaw had seen before. Marbledpaw could see the tabby surveying the area, and her eyes flicked to the left as she spotted the hill of snow that Crookedpaw dashed towards. Marbledpaw hared after her, her paws flying across the snow as she slid up the hill, but Crookedpaw stopped and slammed her shoulder into Marbledpaw’s flank, sending her over the edge. She twisted in the air and slammed down onto her paws, cowering as she caught the breath that had rushed from her lungs. Crookedpaw fell from the sky, wrapping her paws around Marbledpaw’s belly, but she was ready for her. Marbledpaw threw herself to the side, landing on top of Crookedpaw and slipping in between her paws. She raised her paw to run her toes across Crookedpaw’s throat, to mimic the killing blow, but she spotted a slight shake of a head from Sablefrost and lowered her paw. Crookedpaw surged upwards and pinned Marbledpaw with ease, panting heavily as she grinned. “Well played, little one,” she chuckled and turned towards Blueberry, who was nodding. “You’ve trained her well, Sablefrost. I would never want to be on the wrong side of her claws,” Crookedpaw announced before following her mentor back to camp. Marbledpaw stood and brushed the snow from her beautiful pelt, turning towards Sablefrost who had wide eyes and was looking around. After making sure no cat could hear them, he leaned towards his Lærling and whispered into her ear. “Never practice the killing move on any cat but me. I want you to be the strongest and the best able to protect the Clan, but the others do not want to kill. Never show mercy, Marbledpaw, or you will lose your home for the second time.”
Moosestar shuddered as she saw the crumpled form of Avensstripe at the bottom of the cliff. Briarprickle swallowed back her fears and descended towards the final resting place of the cream molly, flinching as she saw the unnatural angle at which her head rested. Her eyes were open and unseeing, her face filled with the terror she had felt in her final moments. As Briarprickle checked for wounds other than the broken neck, she spotted several scratches that clearly came from the fall. Just as she passed over the flank, four identical red lines ran through the fur, and Briarprickle’s teeth clenched in fear, noticing the uniformity and what that meant about Avensstripe’s death.
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Post by chaotic creativity on Oct 13, 2020 10:05:54 GMT -8
❄ Post 018 - Are We Sure It Was An Accident?
Maple shuffled her paws as she stood at the swirling vortex. It sucked at her fur hungrily as she dug her claws into the ground, willing herself to stay behind. She hadn’t seen Hen, Thistle, or Gale in moons, and she was beginning to believe she would never see them again. “Release your past,” whispered a soft voice inside the swirling wind that threatened to steal her away, and Maple let out a soft sigh. She stepped forward, letting her paws be carried from the ground as she closed her eyes and let the wind pull her senses away from her. Cold. All Maple could feel was unending cold, a cold that wrapped her just as firmly as warmth in a forest would. The crunching of paws atop a thick layer of snow pulled her thoughts back to her body, and she opened her eyes. A beautiful grey molly with just a splash of white was standing over her, watching her curiously as if she had never seen a cat like Maple before. “Are you alright? I just watched you fall from the sky,” she murmured, leaning down and smoothing Maple’s ruffled fur with her tongue. The feeling of being cared for tugged at her heartstrings, and she couldn’t stop herself from purring and leaning into the stranger’s touch. It had been so long since a cat had acknowledged her that she began to see the stranger as almost a spirit sent to guide her to the afterlife. The stranger just chuckled and settled in beside Maple, resting her chin easily on the calico’s flank as if she had done it a million times before. “I’m on my way to find a Clan. I was told by one of their gods that if I sought them out, I would find my true love along the way,” she sighed, her eyes dreamy and far away. Maple couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering how Thistle used to fantasize about his future mate and how she and Gale would tease him relentlessly for it. “I know this sounda absolutely bonkers, but I think you may be the one. Would you mind accompanying me to the Clan? In this harsh territory, living as a gorup is much better than living alone,” the stranger’s voice was softer than a sigh, but Maple nodded quickly. It had been moons since she had lost Hen, Thistle, and Gale, and the thought of living in a group was too good to be true. She remembered hearing tales from her mother and Hen as a kit about a group of cats that lived together in the mountains, and she wondered if this Clan was going to be anything like that. “What’s your name? Mine’s Maple,” she chuckled, knowing it was a semi-weird name considering there were no trees in sight. In fact, there was no greenery in sight at all; there only seemed to be snow, ice, stone, and sky in Maple’s entire range of vision. The grey stranger just shook her thin pelt out and stood up, raising her eyes to the sky with a gentle cough. It was getting cold, and Maple felt a need to get her new friend inside where she could help warm her up. “My name’s Glacier, by the way. When we join the Clan, we’ll get new names! I heard the leader, called the Dronning, is called Moosestar! I also heard whisperings of an Oystersnap. I would love for my name to be Glacierwhisper or Glacierdance,” she sighed, tipping her head to the side as she looked at Maple with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m going to become a fighter, apparently called a Beskyttere. What would you want to do, and what do you think your new name will be?” she asked. Maple was enjoying how much Glacier liked to talk, but she could hear a gentleness behind the molly’s voice that betrayed she was being kind and talking because she believed Maple needed a cat to keep talking as if she hadn’t talked to another cat in moons. Maple kept quiet for a few seconds as she thought, and ideas began to swirl in her mind. “Mapleleaf would be a pretty stupid name, so I’d hope that’s not mine. Maybe Mapleflash or even Mapletwirl. I’m not much for hunting or fighting, and I learned to heal many moons ago, so I feel like that would be where I’d go,” she admitted, and Glacier skidded to a halt with a gasp. A patrol of cats was approaching them, and Maple felt her pelt rise and she began to arch her back and hiss at the strangers. Glacier rested her thin blue tail across Maple’s spine, smoothing down the hairs that prickled. Glacier called a greeting, and Maple pressed herself closer to her new friend’s side, untrusting of the muscular cats that was walking towards them. “Are you Beskyttere of Katter av den Frosne Øya?” Glacier asked, revealing the name of the Clan she had been speaking of. The entire patrol, five cats, nodded and turned to lead Glacier and Maple towards their camp. The chocolate calico and the grey and white molly followed silently, and they were led into a large cavern with towering ceilings. A patrol member had raced ahead to warn of the newcomers, and a gathered group was waiting in the center with a strikingly beautiful molly sitting in the middle with a circle of space around her. Glacier’s jaw dropped, and Maple could feel her tail fall in shock. “We gather here today for the naming of two new members of Katter av den Frosne Øya. Coral has spoken to me of their arrival, and we graciously welcome our newest Seniorbeskyttere and Helbreder. What are your names?” called the beautiful molly, and Maple stuttered out her name while Glacier announced hers with grace. “Maple and Glacier, do you promise to uphold the values of our Clan? Do you vow to devote yourselves to the serving of the gods? Do you swear yourself to our code, and to uphold it even when times are tough?” Moosestar’s voice rang clearly in Maple’s ears, and she swallowed. “I do,” Maple’s and Glacier’s voices chorused together, mingling and echoing off the inner cave walls. “Then I name you Glacierbloom and Maplesong. May we rejoice in your arrival,” Moosestar’s voice boomed and the molly slunk off to her den, a grey tom scurrying after her and cursing silently under his breath. Glacierbloom turned to the newly named Maplesong with wide eyes as the gathered cats began chanting their names. Their breath clouded between them and converged, their noses barely a whisker-length apart as Maplesong really looked into Glacierbloom’s eyes for the first time. Her heart began to flutter and her stomach began to churn, and she turned and fled, not understanding what she was feeling for this strange molly she had just met.
“Crookedpaw, do you promise to uphold the values of Katter av den Frosne Øya and be the best cat you can be?” Moosestar asked, and Crookedpaw nodded quickly. “I hereby name you Crookedstrike,” the Dronning announced, and the cats began to cheer and cry her new name. Crookedstrike approached Climbingivy and Chickweedsap, leaning into their embraces as they congratulated her on finally joining them as Nedre Beskyttere. Crookedstrike pulled away, and she wiped a tear away with her paw as she chuckled about being an emotional wreck about finally having her full name. “Let’s go for a walk,” Chickweedsap offered, and the other two followed her out into the territory. Crookedstrike looked across the endless expanse of snow, and she promptly turned and sat. She sat at the cliff edge, her toes hanging over as she stared out across the ocean. She’d always lived on the island, but she knew Climbingivy and Chickweedsap had both been brought over by the same twolegs that had brought Moosestar over to the island. “It’s wonderful out there,” Chickweedsap sighed, sitting next to Crookedstrike and leaning against her. “There are places where it’s never cold, where it never snows,” she added as the sun began to set. “I’d never want to go to that place anymore. I love it here,” Climbingivy muttered with a chuckle, sitting next to Crookedstrike’s other side and wrapping his tail around her lovingly. The three had never been separated, and Crookstrike shuddered at the thought of Climbingivy leaving to find that mythical warmth Chickweedsap had mentioned. “I missed the sun that would allow you to lay outside once, but now I don’t. The snow has grown on me,” he laughed, falling back and rolling in the snow until it clumped to his fur in all places. Crookedstrike laughed and pushed Chickweedsap over, dumping pawful after pawful onto her friend until Climbingivy leaped up from behind her and pinned her into the snow, burying her and covering her until only her nose was visible. She never wanted days like this end, and it seemed like neither did her friends. She surged upward with a roar, showering the other two with snow as she shook it from her own pelt.
Rollingfog stood before Moosestar with her chest puffed out, her eyes locked on Briarprickle in the crowd. The Helbreder winked and smiled, and Rollingfog let out a sigh as the Dronning turned to look at the gathered crowd. “It is known that we separate our senior warriors from our younger warriors with a title, and today celebrates the fiftieth moon since Rollingfog was born. As per our customs, she is now welcome as a Seniorbeskyttere,” Moosestar meowed, her voice carrying and echoing throughout the camp. Briarprickle tipped her head back and yowled Rollingfog’s name to the ceiling, the Seniorbeskyttere approaching to lead Rollingfog to the cave dedicated to the older Beskyttere. Rollingfog could feel her heart nearly burst as she dragged her scrappy nest across the camp and into the hollow Harpwind, Lanatafade, and Glacierbloom had dedicated to be hers. “We’ve been waiting for you to join us,” Harpwind purred, her large belly swinging beneath her as she padded across the den and sat over Rollingfog’s nest. “It was quite lonely when Ospreyfrost left just me and Lanatafade in here. Then Glacierbloom and now you? This den is going to be bursting at the seams!” she chuckled, her voice gravelly with a purr. Something about this molly calmed Rollingfog exponentially as her thoughts wandered to Moosestar, standing regally as she addressed the entire Clan. “I’m glad to finally be here. The past few moons have been just agonizingly slow as I waited to be able to be a part of the Seniorbeskyttere,” Rollingfog murmured, and she turned towards the den exit. “Why don’t we go on a patrol, just the four of us? It’ll be simply wonderful to get to know each other better,” she offered, and the three other mollies nodded enthusiastically. As they exited the camp, she felt her eyes lock onto where Moosestar was conversing with her Hertuger and Hertuginne. Her pelt seemed to shimmer with snowflakes, and she smiled as she tore her eyes from the molly that had so captured her heart.
Aurorashine let her paws slide gracefully across the ice as she prowled onto the frozen water after a seal pup that was seemingly asleep,its flipper hanging over the edge into the water. Seals were dangerous creatures, and Aurorashine had been tasked with scaring the pup away in hopes that its mother wouldn’t arrive. Orionstrike stood on the edge of the beach, eyes peeled for any sign of the mother or danger as Aurorastrike slid her purplish-black body across the wide expanse of white. Aurorashine shot forward, shrieking with her claws outstretched at the pup. Her lips were folded back as her teeth shone in the glare from the snow. The pup howled in surprise and slid off the ice, disappearing into the blue with a splash. Aurorashine slid to a halt and turned back to Orionstrike with a grin, her fur puffed out as she slid around and began her trek back to the beach. A slight groan reached Orionstrike’s ears, and she spotted the crack racing through the ice and straight towards Aurorashine’s paws. “Watch out!” the bengal molly screamed, forcing herself onto the ice and into her companion’s side. The two mollies slid across the ice on their bellies, their claws scrabbling at the ice as it began to shatter and break apart. Orionstrike dug her elongated claws into the softer ice and sank her teeth into Aurorashine’s scruff, dragging the smoke molly to the beach. They collapsed onto each other, panting with wide eyes as they stared at the broken ice. Aurorashine turned her face to where her muzzle was centimenters from Orionstrike’s, and her heart flipped anxiously in her chest. Her mouth was dry and cottony as she realized how the sun seemed to sparkle on the molly’s chocolate-y brown coat, absorbed in the deeper swirls of her marbled markings. Orionstrike was utterly beautiful to Aurorashine, and she scrambled backwards as she tried to get away from the awkwardness of the situation. Orionstrike seemed stunned, her eyes following Aurorashine as she turned and fled back towards camp.
“Skuasoar, you asked for us to meet?” Moosestar murmured gently as she sat and swept her feathery tail around her paws and drawing her tongue over her ruffled chest. The lynx point molly nodded as Oystersnap, Saxifragepetal, and Papaverdapple joined the circle, her breath shallow as fear shone in her eyes. “Well, get on with it,” Moosestar urged, annoyed at how long it was taking the obviously shaken molly to speak. Her paws were trembling, her ears flattened as she looked back and forth to make sure she wouldn’t be overheard. “It’s about Avensstripe,” she whispered, lowering her voice even though no other cat was in the cave. Moosestar rolled her eyes and Oystersnap nudged her, signalling for Skuasoar to continue. “Briarprickle confided in me that she could recognize cat claw-marks on her chest and shoulders, too fresh that they had to have happened just before she fell. The cause of death was still the fall, but the signs of struggle were there. What’s worse is that she said the scratches smelled like herbs. Whoever did this was trying to hide the unnaturalness of Avensstripe’s death,” Skuasoar’s voice was shaking as she finished, and she pressed close to Saxifragepetal’s side. Moosestar had never seen her Hertuginne like this, so utterly shaken that she needed to rely on another cat to help her sit up. “There’s a murderer somewhere in the territory,” Moosestar concluded, and Papaverdapple nodded slowly. His eyes traced across the group, as if he were surveying each cat to make sure they weren’t acting weird. “They could even be one of my warriors,” the Dronning realized, and Skuasoar let out a low moan of terror. It was clear she had just received the news that she was pregnant, and she was terrified of the thought of bringing tiny lives into the world when it had just become so dangerous. As Moosestar ran the ideas through her head, Rollingfog exploded into the den and let out a shriek of horror. Moosestar watched as the molly sank to her knees, tears pouring down her cheeks as snot bubbled at her nose. “B-B-Briarprickle,” she whimpered, her whole body shaking violently as Oystersnap rushed from the den. As Moosestar followed, she spotted the Helbreder on her side with wide open eyes. Foamy spit was gathered around her lips and her eyes were bloodshot, her claws extended as if she had spent her last moments in excrutiating pain. A singular deathberry sat at her mouth, half-chewed and then spat out as if she had realized what it was. She hadn’t realized soon enough, clearly, as she had had to have swallowed many berries to have had this horrible of a death. Her body was twisted in strange shapes, punctuating the pain by showing that she had writhed on the ground. The Helbreder was dead, and it was clearly not an accident.
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Post by chaotic creativity on Oct 13, 2020 15:50:54 GMT -8
❄ Post 019 - Grief Calls to Grief
Tempest’s pelt fluttered in the light breeze as he stood at the entrance to the place he knew to be Katter Av Den Frosne Øya’s camp. He could see several cats going about their daily business, not noticing the intruder standing between them and the outside world. He cleared his throat and a silver caliby molly carrying a mouse turned her head to stare at him. Her pelt sprang up and she snapped her back into a tight “n” shape with a hiss. “Who are you and how dare you intrude on my territory?” she snarled, and Tempest could have laughed. She thought it was her territory, and yet he waltzed right on as if he belonged? “I don’t believe it to be your territory, doll, though I must say your pelt is exquisite,” he purred, his voice silky and smooth. The molly faltered, her eyes sparkling at the idea of him flirting with her, but her expression hardened into one of rage and anger. “You might want to increase your border patrols. May I?” he asked, sweeping his tail and then padding into the camp as if he owned the place. The molly skidded after him, her pelt rippling with anger and surprise as she slid to a halt in front of him and blocked his path. “Now really, doll, I’m trying to find Moosestar.. Step aside,” he chuckled, reaching out to move her aside with his paw. “I am Moosestar,” she scoffed, and Tempest’s jaw dropped. This beautiful molly was the cat he knew to run this Clan? And yet she hadn’t tried to stop him from entering camp? She was pathetic, and he knew things needed to change. “It would do you well to address me properly, and then I may consider giving you a true name,” she snapped, and Tempest rewarded her with a mocking bow. His eartips swept the floor, and he looked up at her with a cheeky grin. Moosestar huffed and pressed her nose to his lowered forehead, announcing, “I welcome you as Tempestflash of the Nedre Beskyttere.” Tempestflash straightened and winked at Moosestar, and he could see her stern expression seem to melt slightly. “Why don’t we go for a walk?” he purred, his nose close to her ear. He heard her swallow then shake her head, turning and dashing off to the cave he expected to be her den. Chewing on his lower lip, Tempestflash turned and surveyed the cats he saw walking around. Several mollies were strikingly beautiful and many toms were stunningly handsome, the kind of place Tempestflash was looking for. Maybe he would finally find himself a cat to love here.
Knollwind stepped away from Moosestar, her new name still ringing loudly in her ears. She spotted a grey molly curled around a longhaired grey point, licking the point’s ears gently as she murmured quiet words. She could see the expression on the point, and knew something had happened. She’d seen the fresh grave outside the camp, and she suspected the point was grieving. “Hello,” she murmured gently, approaching quietly so that she could easily turn around if she didn’t feel welcome. The point lifted her tear-stained cheeks and drew in a shuddering breath, nodding to the grey molly that was still whispering. “Knollwind. I just watched Moosestar name you. I’m Glacierbloom, and this is Rollingfog. Her closest friend just passed on,” Glacierbloom whispered, and Knollwind sat down next to Rollingfog. “Briarprickle is watching you from above, dear. She’s not really gone,” Glacierbloom mewed, and Rollingfog nodded as more tears sprang from her eyes. She stuttered out a few words that Knollwind couldn’t understand, and then she tucked her head beneath Glacierbloom’s chin and let a sob take control of her shivering body. She was hurting, and Knollwind reached out to curl herself around Rollingfog’s other side. “Briarprickle sounds like a wonderful molly. What about her did you like?” Knollwind asked, and Glacierbloom looked at her like she was absolutely insane. “She was snappy, of course, but she always had my best interests at heart,” Rollingfog mumbled, her words slurring together as she tried to talk through the tears. “She would always smack sense into me when I was too busy mooning over Moosestar,” she laughed, her voice catching at the end as her mouth curved upwards. “She was an amazing healer, and she made sure every cat knew it. She also made it known that she would not treat any wounds caused by simple ignorance,” Rollingfog lifted her eyes to Knollwind. Knollwind nodded slowly and smiled. “She was grumpy but a real sweetheart?” she asked, summarizing Rollingfog’s points. The colorpoint molly nodded excitedly, happy that some cat understood her. “Well, imagine she were here right now, and you had the chance to say goodbye. What would you say?” she asked quietly, swearing she could see a shimmer of stars and torbie pelt standing over the trio of mollies. Rollingfog fixed her eyes on a place, and she smiled a true smile that seemed to shock Glacierbloom. “I love you, Briarprickle. I have since that day in the blizzard, but it may have taken you longer to grow fond of me. You were my closest friend, and you were there for me for the past several moons. Your time here ws cut short, and I miss you with every part of my body. I can’t wait to see you again,” she whispered, her eyes far away as Knollwind nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered, leaning forward and nuzzling the new molly affectionately. “Thank you so much.”
Chickweedsap padded alongside Lanatafade, Rollingfog, and Sablefrost as they patrolled the northern border of the territory. “Lovely day,” she sighed, tipping her head back to stare at the sky that was just barely dotted with clouds. They marched lazily across the sky, and Chickweedsap followed one such cloud until Lanatafade tapped her flank and told her it was time to get going. Chickweedsap yawned, her small mouth gaping wide as she squeezed her eyes shut and turned to protect herself from the sudden burst of wind. As she finished her yawn, a shriek filled her ears and she was shoved to the side. As she slid across the ground, her eyes popped open in terror. A walrus was leaping across the ground, its large tusks bared ferociously as it barreled towards the young molly. She turned and covered her head with her paws, and she heard Lanatafade cry out with horror as she suddenly felt the weight of the walrus on top of her and then the world went white. Lanatafade spotted Chickweedsap’s body, and then she turned to flee. Rollingfog and Sablefrost streamed after her, the patrol running for their lives away from the large creature. They were forced to leave Chickweedsap behind until the walrus gave up and loped back towards the ocean. Lanatafade’s lip trembled as she approached the hole she knew Chickweedsap lay in. She forced herself to approach and close the young molly’s eyelids, choking out a gasp at the body. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, that was for sure.
Kittiwakekit let out a roar as she barreled across the camp, sliding to a halt and slamming her shoulder into the ball of moss and sending it flying. Guillemotkit launched himself into the air, his paws wrapping around the ball as he plummeted towards the ground. He twisted midair, gripping the ball in his jaw, and landed neatly on his paws. He hit the ground running, throwing the ball against the far wall and letting out a cry of triumph. Ospreyfrost clapped her paws together in delight as her son rushed at him and nuzzled her happily. Kittiwakekit approached slower, a frown plastered across her face as she stuck her tongue out at her littermate. “No fair, momma! He cheated!” she cried, but Ospreyfrost shook her head. Kittiwakekit furrowed her brow and batted lazily at the ball, letting it roll into her mother’s paws. Ospreyfrost took one paw back and whacked it full force, sending it soaring across camp. Kittiwakekit and Guillemotkit tore after it, the molly shoving the tom out of the way and leaping after it. Guillemotkit slid to the side and slammed into the wall of the cave, and he screwed up his face as he let out a wail. “Kittiwakekit! What have I told you about shoving?” Ospreyfrost shrieked in horror, racing across the camp and pulling Guillemotkit close to her. Kittiwakekit pouted angrily, and she leaped into the nursery cave. She curled tightly into the nest and laid her tail over her nose, angry. Why did her brother have to be such a crybaby? It wasn’t like she had psuhed him that hard! Kittiwakekit huffed and rolled onto her back, punching at the sky with her paws while she waited for her mother to come in and scold her some more.
“We’ve got to do something,” Moosestar whispered, and Oystersnap nodded, gritting his teeth as he looked around himself. “Three deaths in three moons. I understand that one was an accident, but are we really that sure? Avensstripe’s body showed signs of struggle. Briarprickle was a skilled Helbreder that never would have eaten deathberries. Is it that bold to assume a cat could have pushed Chickweedsap into the path of the walrus?” she hissed quietly, her eyes wide as she remembered the three funerals she had had to preside over in the past moons. “Something is intensely wrong, Oystersnap, and that something could very well be inside our camp right now.” Oystersnap nodded slowly, knowing Moosestar would never have trusted another Hertuger or Hertuginne to hear what she was discussing with him now. He pursed his lips together and sighed, tipping his head back and rolling it around on his shoulders. Being Hertuger was tiring business, especially when there seemed to be a murderer on the loose. “I don’t know any solutions as we don’t seem to be able to gather any evidence of who is doing this,” he mumbled slowly, and Moosestar nodded. A branch snapped, and both cats’ heads twisted to stare at the ghost tabby tom who was entering the den. “I don’t mean to intrude, but perhaps a permanent guard be placed on the Dronning? We don’t want to lose our first leader so soon after the start of the Clan,” Sablefrost offered, his head down as if he were ashamed to have listened in on the private conversation. Oystersnap surveyed him quietly, his eyes moving up and down as he tried to decide on what to say or do. Moosestar, however, seemed to know exactly what should happen next. “That is a magnificent idea, Sablefrost. In fact, my Hertuger and Hertuginne are far too busy to handle such trivial matters. You shall be in charge of this guard,” she announced, and turned to Oystersnap. He dipped his head to show his approval, and Sablefrost jumped up and down with excitement. He rambled about not letting Moosestar down before dashing out of the den and into camp, presumably to handle matters concerning the new guard. Oystersnap let out a sigh, and Moosestar leaned into him for a comforting embrace. “I hope this matter resolves itself shortly,” she whispered, though she knew the troubles were only just beginning.
Buntingswirl and Ptarmiganflutter padded through the center of the territory, chatting like birds as they completely ignored what they were supposed to be doing. “Dipperduo is so pretty and sweet,” Buntingswirl sighed, tipping his head back as his eyes grew distant and far away. Ptarmiganflutter shoved his shoulder into his friend and laughed, his eyes sparkling as he thought about the way he used to moon over Borealrust. Now he was her mate, and they had their lovely daughter, Bellpaw. “I should just ask her out sometime,” Buntingswirl announced, and then his posture crumbled as he shook his head. “I say just go for it. There’s no harm in asking,” Ptarmiganflutter chuckled and then sat. “Why don’t I tell you about how I got Borealrust to say yes to me,” he offered, and Buntingswirl nodded excitedly like a kit about to listen to a story from their mother. “It took moons of preparation, but I managed to find enough twoleg flowers that I could fill a small clearing with them and take her there. You see, she loves pretty flowers. I handed her the one she always claimed was the prettiest and asked her to be mine. You don’t have to do anything extravagant like that, but make it personal and from the heart, and no molly can resist.” Buntingswirl watched with wide eyes as ideas began to twirl through his mind. “I know exactly what I need to do,” he whispered and took off at a gallop. Ptarmiganflutter chuckled as he followed behind his friend, ready to ask if there was any way he could help make it perfect. He wanted the best for the tom, and hopefully Dipperduo would say yes.
Maplesong gathered the bundle of flowers in her jaw and took a deep breath as she watched Glacierbloom exit the camp on her morning stroll. “You can do this,” Maplesong whispered, the encouraging message adding a bounce to her step as she followed the molly. Glacierbloom padded all the way to the edge of the beach, where the sand transitioned to ice, and then she began the trek along the line. Maplesong dashed along the top of the cliff, watching where Glacierbloom was until she couldn’t see her anymore. Hurling herself down to the beach where she knew Glacierbloom would arrive in just a few short minutes. Her chest heaved for air as she spotted Glacierbloom getting closer. Holding the bouquet tightly, she sat stiff and proper until Glacierbloom paused at the sight of her. Maplesong held out the flowers, and Glacierbloom took them. “Glacierbloom, I felt something for you when I first laid eyes on you. There is something special about the way you treated me, an absolute stranger, and I will always love you for that. I love you, Glacierbloom, and so will you be my mate?” Maplesong asked, and Glacierbloom’s jaw dropped. The flowers drifted slowly to the ground, and she rushed forward to nuzzle Maplesong affectionately. “Yes,” she whispered over and over again as the two mollies circled each other. They walked back to camp with their pelts brushing and their smiles huge. As they walked in, several cats that had helped Maplesong plan the proposal congratulated them, which made Glacierbloom blush and try to hide her face. Maplesong could feel her heart ready to explode as she knew this was the happiest day of her life.
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