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clangenrising · 3 months

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Month 11 - Leafbare

The snow had been falling all morning. The drifts piled up over the course of the afternoon, higher than Floodpaw had ever seen before, and he and the other apprentices had to clear out the den entrances once or twice to keep the dens from being completely sealed off. They’d also spent a good few hours fishing at Goldenstar’s request but Floodpaw hadn’t been able to focus much.

That morning, she had told the three of them that if they wanted to join the war party she would let them. He had been thrilled, to say the least. The assessments had been tough but the hardest part had been the lack of a reaction from Goldenstar and the silence on the matter she had maintained for the last few days. The anticipation had nearly eaten him alive. Now, all of that energy had been turned into excitement. He had immediately asked to go and Goldenstar had agreed. Even Sparrowpaw was going.

Barleypaw was staying behind, as expected, but she had specifically asked to stay and protect Smokyrose and the kittens.

“You won’t need to,” Floodpaw had said, “We’re going to beat the rogues, easy. The prophecy said so.”

“It never hurts to be safe,” Yarrowshade had said.

Floodpaw wasn’t sure how much he agreed with that but he’d forgotten about it easily enough when the other Clans started gathering in their camp. EarthClan was first. Floodpaw scrambled out of the apprentices’ den when he heard them. Orangestar and Darkmoon were there, along with three warriors he had met before on patrols. He also spotted Fishpaw and Boldpaw among the crowd and he hurried across the clearing to talk with them. Fishpaw wasn’t interested in conversation but Boldpaw sat and humored him which made Floodpaw swell with pride.

Shortly after, FallenClan arrived with Flightstar, his deputy Pigeoncover, and three other warriors. Flightstar immediately ducked into Goldenstar’s den to talk with the other leaders but unlike the EarthClan cats, FallenClan didn’t mingle at all with RisingClan’s warriors. Floodpaw frowned.

“Can you believe they almost didn’t show up?” he asked Boldpaw.

Fishpaw looked over and said, “I can. FallenClan are a bunch of heartless snakes.”

“They are?” he asked, squinting at the cluster of cats, two of which looked very similar to himself.

“Flightstar at least is bad news,” Boldpaw said. “Darkmoon says the patrols have only gotten more standoffish since he took over.”

“Huh,” Floodpaw said. He used to think that Flightstar was a strong and admirable warrior but now he wasn’t sure. What was a warrior without concern for others? Even he knew how important that was!

Soon after, Snowstar, Tangletooth, Coyotechaser, and four other SkyClan warriors arrived along with Fernpaw who bounded over when Floodpaw waved at him.

“Hey!” he grinned, joining them. “You guys ready to tear some rogue pelts?”

“Definitely!” Floodpaw nodded, kneading the ground with his claws.

“Shouldn’t be long now,” Boldpaw said. “Everyone’s here.”

“Who all from RisingClan is coming?” asked Fernpaw, looking around.

“Um,” Floodpaw tried to remember. “Me, Sparrowpaw… Goldenstar and Russetfrond, of course, and then Ospreymask, Branchbark, and I think Pantherhaze?”

“Okay, not bad,” Fernpaw said, looking around.

“So everyone is bringing more warriors than FallenClan, then,” Fishpaw scoffed.

“I heard they’re the smallest Clan there is,” Fernpaw said. “They don’t even have any apprentices or anything.”

Floodpaw flicked an ear dismissively. “Who cares,” he said, “We’re all going to battle together! I can’t wait.” They didn’t have to wait long, which was a good thing, given the snow. After a few more minutes, the leaders emerged and Goldenstar jumped onto the Stoneperch to call a meeting.

“Warriors!” she cried, and everyone fell silent. “We’re finally ready to drive these city rogues from our territory once and for all!” The cats cheered and Floodpaw joined in as loudly as he could. The energy was intoxicating, all of their bodies gathered in the little camp, hearts beating in time, their purpose aligned. He felt like a part of something bigger than himself and it was amazing.

Goldenstar continued, “StarClan is with us today and our victory has been foreseen! All we need to do is follow through. Thank you all for joining us in this endeavor. It would not be possible without you and for that Orangestar and I are grateful.” Flightstar and Snowstar puffed up a little, looking proud of themselves, although Flightstar was the only one wearing a smirk.

“Here’s the plan:” said Goldenstar. “We attack in two waves. The first wave will be led by Snowstar and made up of cats with pale coats. We’ll call them the Stoat Group. They’ll blend into the snow and advance stealthily, making way for the rest of us to follow. The second group, who we’ll call Eagle Group, will follow in their pawsteps about four fox-lengths behind.”

Snowstar lifted her voice and said, “Stoat Group will make the first approach, assess the rogue camp, and then attack. Once Eagle Group hears signs of combat, they’ll move in as well.”

Goldenstar nodded, looking a little perturbed. “Stoat Group will be Snowstar, Charredbranch, Pebblefall, Fernpaw, Bogmist, Fishpaw, Pigeoncover, Tumblefang, and Floodpaw.” Floodpaw gasped. He was going to be a part of the first attack? And without anyone else from RisingClan with him? He couldn’t believe it. “Everyone else, you’re with Eagle Group. Are there any questions?”

No one spoke up, instead looking around to identify the cats they would be fighting side by side with. Floodpaw bumped shoulders with Fernpaw excitedly and Fernpaw grinned back.

“Alright then,” said Flightstar, standing up. “Let’s form up and move out. Good hunting!” A few of the cats cheered but Floodpaw noticed Goldenstar frown.

“I’m gonna check in with my mentor,” he said, “and then I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay!” Fernpaw nodded. Floodpaw jumped up and bounded over to the food of the Stoneperch just as Goldenstar jumped down.

“Hey,” he said, “Thanks for letting me go with Stoat Group!”

Goldenstar looked down at him and a smile spread over her worried expression. “They need all the cats they can get and you’ve got the right coloring,” she said. “Just be careful. Stay close to the other warriors and don’t let the rogues overwhelm you. We’ll be right behind you but there’s probably going to be a good few seconds where you’re outnumbered.”

“Got it,” he said, nodding. “I’ll see you there then.”

“Good luck, kid,” Goldenstar purred, butting her head against his. He pressed up into her touch and then turned to go find Stoat Group. Before he got too far, he ran into Sparrowpaw.

“Hey,” Sparrowpaw said, stepping in front of him, “Be safe out there, okay?”

“Yeah,” Floodpaw said, “you too.”

Sparrowpaw smiled. “Will do.” Floodpaw rubbed up against his brother fondly, then hurried towards Stoat Group. Luckily, nothing else got in his way and soon enough he was standing in a circle of mostly white cats, belly deep in the snow. It was almost surreal. He didn’t think he’d seen this many cats like him in one place all his life.

“Alright,” said Snowstar, as he and Bogmist joined the huddle, “that’s everyone. Let’s move out. Stay within sight of at least two other cats at all times. Once we get there, watch me for the signal to attack, understood?”

“Affirmative,” said Pigeoncover with an obedient nod. Most of the others nodded or voiced agreement. Floodpaw puffed his chest up and nodded. What an honor to be among such a capable group of warriors!

“Good,” said Snowstar. “May StarClan guide our claws!” She looked across the camp to Goldenstar and the others and made eye contact before nodding and heading up the slope and into the thicker snow.

“Good luck!” Floodpaw heard Oddstripe calling after them. He looked back at the healers’ den to shoot a grin at his papa who seemed worried. Don’t worry, Papa, he tried to say with his smile, I’ll come back a hero! Just watch!

Stoat Group fell into a small arrow shape with the apprentices in the middle, directly behind Snowstar and Pigeoncover. Floodpaw made sure to check regularly that he could still see Fernpaw and Fishpaw on either side of him as they made the long and silent journey to the border, or rather, to where the rogues had pushed the border. Despite the biting cold, he felt like he was burning with anticipation. It felt like at any moment they would suddenly be in the thick of battle.

Eventually, Snowstar lifted her tail to stop them, and Floodpaw craned his neck to see the tracks ahead of them, covered heavily with freshly fallen snow. He wanted to ask if they were close but managed to keep a hold on his tongue. Snowstar looked at Pigeoncover and seemed to convey a message without a word. The FallenClan deputy nodded, glanced at Tumblefang, and then the two cats peeled off to the East, making a wide circle. Snowstar glanced at Charredbranch and he grinned, then flicked his tail at Fernpaw and the two of them split off to the West.

Floodpaw started to vibrate in excitement. This must be it, he thought, we’re about to attack! He opened his mouth to try and catch any scent but the snow had muffled all of it. If the city cats were here, he had no idea where.

A tense moment passed. Then another. Floodpaw strained his ears for any sound. He couldn’t hear anything above the blood pounding in his own ears. He spotted Charredbranch’s ears poking out of a snow bank to their right. He couldn’t see Pigeoncover anywhere.

Snowstar chirped, like a chattering bird, and all of the cats surged forward in an instant. Floodpaw moved as soon as he realized what was happening, flowing through Snowstar’s pawprints like rain water finding the fastest way down a hill. She bounded down a small slope then turned sharply right. Floodpaw blinked and suddenly there were dens in the snow in front of them. Snowstar crashed through into one and one of the cats inside screamed.

“What’s going on?!” he heard a stranger cry out.

“We’re under attack!” another voice shouted, “Get up! Everyone up!”

Pebblefall was in front of him and a rogue rose up to meet him, barring the entrance. Floodpaw shifted from foot to foot and glanced at Fishpaw. She growled in frustration and glanced around so he did the same. There was a second den where the two offshoots had converged and were being held at bay by a big ginger tabby with a jingling collar. There didn’t seem to be another den to attack.

“Back up!” he heard Pebblefall hiss and the rest of the group hurried back to allow Pebblefall and Snowstar back out into the snow. Floodpaw gaped in disbelief. Had they been driven out so easily?! Then, he saw the genius in their plan. As they retreated, the city cats inside followed, leading them out where the other warriors could more easily attack them.

A silver speckled tabby dashed out of the den and was tackled by Bogmist before she knew what was happening. A pale ginger she-cat with bengal spots lunged for Pebblefall only to have Fishpaw pounce on her from the other side. Snowstar arched her back in a hiss and a pale silver tabby tom, bleeding from a nasty claw wound above his eye, leapt to meet her. The tom looked just like Fogkit and Floodpaw realized suddenly that he must be Ghost.

Spitting furiously, Floodpaw darted in and grabbed Ghost’s back leg in his teeth. He gave a tug and Ghost stumbled, crying out. Snowstar took the opportunity to lunge for his neck but Ghost managed to roll out of the way.

“What do we do?” a ginger tom cried from inside the den. More cats huddled behind him, reeking of fear scent. Floodpaw frowned. That wasn’t right.

“Get out of here!” Ghost barked, backing away from Floodpaw as he desperately tried to blink the blood from his right eye. Snowstar pursued him with a hiss but something unnerving twisted in Floodpaw’s gut.

“You will stay and fight!” shouted the ginger kittypet from across the way where he had Charredbranch pinned. “That’s an order!” Several kittypets had poured out of the den to join the fight. Pigeoncover and Tumblefang were trading back and forth between a black and white tom and a brown and white tabby she-cat. Fernpaw danced in circles, avoiding the swipes of two more kittypet rogues.

Floodpaw immediately sprinted to his friend’s rescue. Snowstar would handle Ghost. Fernpaw needed him.

He sprang at the bigger of the two, a scarred black smoke tabby tom and landed on his back. He clung for dear life, biting at the tom’s neck, but the kittypet rolled over and he wasn’t quick enough to avoid being crushed under the heavier cat’s weight.

Still, he had drawn one of the cats off of Fernpaw who called out, “Thanks!” as he finally turned to attack his pursuer.

Floodpaw rolled to his paws just in time. Right where he had been, the scarred kittypet slammed his paws down with enough force to crack Floodpaw’s sternum in half, he thought. Floodpaw darted to nip at his hind legs and followed the movement to circle the tom as he tried to round on Floodpaw.

“Big-eared brat!” the rogue hissed, snapping for Floodpaw’s tail. Floodpaw squeaked but managed to leap out of the way just in time.

A roar sounded on the hill, a dozen cats crying out. Eagle Group descended into the circle of trampled snow and crashed into the rogues. Russetfrond barreled into the tom Floodpaw was fighting and took him to the ground. Floodpaw panted heavily, glad that he’d been saved but unsure how to help now.

He backed up to try and get a better look at the battlefield. The noise was suddenly overwhelming, a cacophony of yowling, writhing bodies. Now that the second wave had arrived, the Clans outnumbered the city cats more than two to one. All at once, the smell of blood became overwhelming. It wasn’t a tantalizing smell like prey blood. No, it was all wrong, like a sinister corruption of the taste. Floodpaw instinctively crouched low to the ground, trying to get his bearings against the tide of sensory information.

“We need to go!” shrilled the silver speckled tabby, bleeding heavily from her shoulder.

“Do not break rank!” bellowed the black and white kittypet, dodging blows from Tumblefang and Branchbark.

“Kill the damn pests already!” hissed a voice behind Floodpaw and he twisted suddenly to see the ginger tabby kittypet bearing down on him.

“Floodpaw, look out!” shouted Ospreymask as she heaved herself back onto her feet, a gash on her leg spraying blood over the snow. Floodpaw twisted to try and get out of the way but the kittypet slammed into him, pushing him onto his back in the snow. Floodpaw kicked with his hind legs, felt them connect with the soft flesh of the tom’s belly, and tried to dig his claws deep into it. Meanwhile, teeth snapped at his neck, grazed the skin, then made contact, tearing into the loose skin there. Floodpaw shrieked in pain.

The tom’s head twisted suddenly, pulled off course by Ospreymask’s claws hooked into one of his eyes. The kittypet roared, spun around, and swiped at her. Floodpaw acted on instinct and lunged, grabbing the skin beneath the tom’s arm in his teeth. He pulled hard. Blood gushed over his face, hot and sour.

Ospreymask slammed the tom face first into the snow, pulling him out of Floodpaw’s grip. He backed up and pressed a paw against the wound in his neck.

“Floodpaw!” suddenly Goldenstar was beside him. “Are you alright?” He nodded silently, reeling.

He couldn’t look away from Ospreymask. Fury burning in her eyes, she rolled on top of the rogue, ignored his claws swiping at her face, and sank her teeth into his neck. Floodpaw had never seen such ferocity. The tom twisted his hind legs to strike at her. His claws tore at her belly, blood spattered the ground. She adjusted her grip on his neck and tore.

Blood, more blood than Floodpaw had ever seen, spurted rhythmically from the kittypet’s neck and bathed the snow red. The tom gurgled and fell over, eyes staring blankly as he shuddered in the throes of death.

Ospreymask looked at Floodpaw with an intense stare. “Are you alright?” Her whole chin and a good portion of her chest were drenched in blood.

“Uh, yeah-” he said, trying to meet her eyes, but he couldn’t help looking back at the kittypet - at his body.

“Sycamore!” screamed the kittypet she-cat. Suddenly she was tearing across the clearing towards Ospreymask. “You little bitch! I’ll tear you apart!” Robinswoop was behind the kittypet and hooked his claws into her tail, causing her to tumble into the snow. Then Ryestripe was on her, raining down blows.

“Shit!” cursed Ghost. When he turned around to look, Snowstar swiped out and deepened the wound above his eye. Sparrowpaw leapt onto his back and sank his claws in, forcing him to refocus on the fight in front of him.

“Sycamore’s dead!” cried the cat who had been fighting Fernpaw. “Retreat!”

“Retreat!” chorused the street cats. There was a pause as everyone took a step back and the rogues started to flee. Some of the warriors cheered or spat insults at their backs. The brown tabby she-cat snarled furiously and lunged for Ospreymask again, but the black and white tom caught her by her scruff and pulled her back.

“We have to go, Bella!” he snapped. Tears in her eyes, the she-cat looked at the horde of warriors hovering at the ready around them. They were the only two city cats left. Floodpaw watched the gravity of the situation sink in on her face.

Backing up against the other kittypet, she glared at Ospreymask and said, “This isn’t over! You’ll pay for what you’ve done! All of you degenerates will pay!”

“Yeah, yeah!” laughed Tumblefang.

“Beat it, flea bag!” jeered Fishpaw.

Seething through gritted teeth, the kittypets turned and fled after their compatriots.

“We are victorious!” shouted Flightstar and the crowd whooped and hollered in response. Cries of triumph went up throughout the group as cats turned to each other with wide smiles and bloody pelts.

“Sparrowpaw!” Russetfrond barked above the noise, “Go fetch your father!”

“Yes, sir!” cried Sparrowpaw and he bounded over the hill the way they had come. Snowstar started moving among the cats, checking for serious injuries. Goldenstar rasped her tongue over Floodpaw’s neck, cleaning away the blood, and he suddenly came back to his body.

“Are you alright, kid?” she asked, making eye contact with him.

“Yeah,” he said, “I think. Is it bad?” He tried to look down at his wound.

“It’s not that bad,” said Goldenstar, licking over his ears fondly. “We’ll get some cobwebs on it and you’ll be right as rain.”

“Who got the kill?” shouted Tumblefang, moving through the crowd.

“Ospreymask!” said Robinswoop. A few cats called their congratulations and Ospreymask blushed, running her tongue over her dripping red muzzle.

“As prophesied!” declared Snowstar with a dawning wonder. “Behold, the raptor that crushed the snake in its beak!” Floodpaw’s eyes widened. That had been a part of the prophecy? Cheers went up among the group. Branchbark appeared to try and lift Ospreymask onto his shoulders and the two of them laughed and began to wrestle. Floodpaw found himself staring at the body again, at the blood coagulating in the cavity she had made in its throat. That had been a person before but now it was just a stiff thing lying in the snow. Floodpaw couldn’t even remember its name.

“Hey,” Goldenstar said, nudging him. “Maybe we should head back to camp, yeah?”

“Oh,” he said, tearing his gaze away. “Yeah, maybe.” He looked back at the body. “Is it always so… scary?”

Goldenstar laid her tail over his back and mumbled. “The first time is the hardest. It gets easier. But it’s a good reminder. Warriors try not to kill to win their battles.”

“Because it’s scary like that?” he asked, looking back at her.

“And because the dead never get to see their loved ones again. You remember how much it hurt people when Nightfrost died, right?” He nodded. “When possible, you should try not to cause that much hurt. Nothing good ever comes from it.”

“But we won,” he said. “We won because she killed him.”

“We did,” Goldenstar said, lips pursed. “We probably could have won without killing anyone. But what happened happened. Sometimes you try your hardest and it still happens like that. We can’t change the past. We can only try and make a better future.”

“Gotcha…” he said, swallowing as he looked at the bloodstained snow.

“Floodpaw!” Oddstripe cried, rushing down the slope in front of Sparrowpaw. “Oh, StarClan, are you alright?” He reached them and took Floodpaw’s face in his paws to angle him this way and that.

“The wound isn’t serious,” Goldenstar said reassuringly. “He fought well.”

“They both did,” said Russetfrond, coming to join them. Sparrowpaw beamed at his brother but Floodpaw was too busy trying to break free.

“Papa, stop! I’m fine!” he protested, trying not to draw too much attention to himself.

“Oh, I was so worried about you, is-” Oddstripe stopped as he looked up and saw the body. “Oh- Stars above!”

“It’s alright,” Goldenstar said, “He’s one of the rogues.”

“There aren’t any other casualties,” said Coyotechaser, approaching, “but Pebblefall has a lot of wounds and Furrowleap can’t move his leg properly.”

“And I should probably get my belly seen too,” said Ospreymask, stumbling over, leaning on Branchbark.

“Oh,” Oddstripe seemed suddenly overwhelmed. “Right, yes, let me look at your belly. If you could fetch Pebblefall…”

“Will do,” said Coyotechaser, moving away.

Goldenstar reared up on her hind legs and called out, “Everyone who can should start heading back to RisingClan’s camp! Sagetooth and Tangletooth will be waiting to tend to your wounds and there’s a feast of fish waiting for all of you!” The war band cheered uproariously and began to meander back in the direction they had come.

“Russetfrond,” Goldenstar said, dropping back to all four paws, “take the body over the Thunderpath please. Take whoever you need with you.”

“You got it,” he said, then looked at Branchbark. “Come on, you.”

“Wh- me?!” protested the warrior.

“Yes, you,” grumbled Russetfrond, “now hop to it. The faster we get this done the faster you can go back to doing whatever you wanted.”

“Can I come?” Sparrowpaw asked.

Russetfrond hummed then shrugged. “Alright. You can be our look out.” Sparrowpaw nodded seriously and moved with them as they went over to the body and began to drag it through the snow.

Fernpaw appeared and butted heads with Floodpaw. “Was that awesome or what?!” he cried.

“Yeah,” Floodpaw said, letting the other apprentice’s energy infect him. “You were amazing! When you were fighting those two cats at once-?!”

“Don’t forget when you saved me!” Fernpaw beamed. “I can’t believe you’re younger than I am!”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t eat death berries and spend a moon in the healers’ den,” Floodpaw joked, swiping playfully at his ear.

“Hey! I told you that in confidence!” Fernpaw laughed, looking around to see if anyone had heard.

Floodpaw gave him another shove and said, “I’ll race you back to camp!”

“Okay, readysetgo!” Fernpaw blurted quickly and then tore off through the snow.

“Hey! No fair!” Floodpaw laughed and chased after him. Already, the shock of what he had seen was fading away, replaced by the sound of cheerful voices and the promise of a fish dinner with friends. The Clans had won, and he had helped! Thanks to tonight, their home was safe and he was eager to celebrate it.

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rizardofether · 1 year

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I got into Clangen after hearing about it on Discord. I never read the Warrior Cats books but I learned a lot from just other people talking about them online and making fancontent. I even rped WC OCs on Feral Heart because there were times when those were the only type of rps going on, which was what first got me to learn about WC in the first place.

And so I started EtherClan on Clangen.

Leader Rookstar

Deputy Pikefrost

Medicine Cat Badgerstem

And some other cats, I didn't save images of every single cat. So began the story of EtherClan

I had to pick Boldkit as one of the cats for the clan. Personality: bullying ???

Some possible future takeovers here I see

And here's couple more of the cats I had picked:

Boldkit grew to become Boldpaw and his personality changed to vengeful

And then Rookstar started seeming like a kind of a pathetic leader

This in fact became a bit of a running theme with him. You'll see..

Crowpaw grew up to become Crowfeather. I see I got my own Crowfeather clone who looks nothing like the Crowfeather from the books

We got a new cat who joined the clan, Sprucefur, who immediately began gossiping on her arrival

Boldpaw began rethinking his life choices.. at 11 months of age..

Slateears, oh how it bothers me to have the same letter be twice in a row without the - you usually would put between them..

An even younget kit began to think their life choices, what could possibly have happened?

Rookstar continues to be a pathetic clan leader

We got Mothkit over here showing some classic cat behaviour

The first non-clan leader deaths of the clan happened.

There goes my Crowfeather copy...

The first kittypet joined the clan... And they're a male orange cat with green eyes.. Hm..

Pikefrost and Woodsun became mates and got their first kit.

Now then we got the medicine cat having kits and also being a queen at the same time.. I do like the male cats also being able to be queens, that's fun.

Mothkit's real popular among the clan members I see

Uh oh..

Rip Woodsun

Ah the romance between the clan leader and the medicine cat sure is happening

So who am I to deny true love, so I paired them up. It seems Rookstar is worried about being judged for it though..

#warrior cats #clangen #clan gen #clan generator

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clangenrising · 4 months

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Month 10 - Leafbare

It was early in the morning when they scented the rogues.

Ever since Nightfrost’s death, Goldenstar and Orangestar had agreed that having a patrol on the border at all times was more dangerous than it was worth and patrols had been limited to daylight hours. For the most part, it hadn’t seemed to make much of a difference. The city cats still tended to avoid patrols and no more of them had been caught crossing the border. Of course, that just meant that no one had seen them. The rogues had started marking the border themselves and every day they tried to push the boundary inch by inch. But still, no one had seen them and no more fights had been had.

So Ospreymask was almost excited when the dawn patrol spotted a group of them loitering just past the border markers. Pantherhaze shuffled beside her making worried noises. Darkmoon, the EarthClan deputy, and his apprentice Boldpaw were with them and Ospreymask looked to him for orders.

“Should we go run them off?” she asked.

“Could we?” asked Boldpaw, “There seem to be quite a few of them.” He wasn’t wrong. From where they stood, Ospreymask made out about seven cats lounging in the snow or sitting up to look in their direction.

“Maybe we could talk them into leaving,” Pantherhaze suggested.

“Seems worth a try,” grunted Darkmoon. “These kittypets are all talk from what I’ve heard.”

“I don’t know about that,” Pantherhaze mumbled, tail twitching. Ospreymask thought back to Yarrowshade’s bruised ribs and bloody shoulder or Aldertail’s story about her dead siblings. She had to agree, the city cats seemed to be able to back up their talk, but she said nothing. She wanted to see them for herself instead of turning tail now.

Lucky for her, Darkmoon started towards the group of cats with his tail raised. As they drew nearer, the city cats lowered their voices and one of them whispered in the ears of a big grey tabby with a blue collar.

“That’s Razor,” Pantherhaze whispered to her.

“Really?” she asked, her interest piqued. “Exciting.”

“Exciting?” he glanced at her sidelong with a nervous lift to his brows. She almost laughed. A giddy ball of energy had started to build in her belly in anticipation. She always got that way before a fight, all bouncy and coiled like she was full of squirrels waiting to be released. She hoped that there wouldn’t be a fight but she couldn’t stop her adrenaline from soaring.

“Ah, hello there!” bellowed Razor cheerfully. “Why don’t you join us? We were just enjoying a bit of a meal.” He gestured to a pair of birds that had been partially eaten, even pushing one towards them. A gaggle of cats sat around him, sunning themselves or sharing tongues. Most of them wore kittypet collars of different colors and materials, some with bells, some with dangling charms, some with studs, some reflective even. Ospreymask was enthralled by the variety and beauty of the accessories. Only two of the cats weren’t wearing some sort of collar, and they both had notched ears. Sitting close to each other, slightly apart from the rest of the group, they watched quietly and Ospreymask shot them a smile. They didn’t return it.

Darkmoon laid a paw over the bird and pulled it closer, saying, “You’re on Clan territory. I thought you were aware that you weren’t welcome here.”

“That’s no way to start a conversation,” Razor huffed, tilting his head. “Sit! Eat! It’s on me.”

“No, this prey is stolen,” Darkmoon said, tail lashing. “And you’re on our territory.”

“So you said,” Razor sighed. He shifted his weight to sit more upright and leveled his gaze at the deputy. “Look, I wanted to be friends, but it seems you wild cats are too stubborn to understand the concept so I’ll cut straight to business. I know you’re hiding Scrap somewhere and I need her back. I won’t leave until she’s returned to me.”

Ospreymask scoffed before she could stop herself. “You make it sound like you own her.”

Razor smiled at her. “No, no, it’s nothing like that,” he chuckled, “it’s more like… father and daughter. It’s my job as the Speaker, it’s my job to make sure each of the cats in the city are looked out for and Scrap is not well. Surely you’ve noticed the way she tears her own flesh, haven’t you?”

“Last time we talked, you didn’t even know what she looked like,” Pantherhaze scowled.

“There are a lot of cats in the city,” Razor shrugged. “I’ve done my due diligence since then. The point is that Scrap needs help that only I can give her and it would be in everyone’s best interest if you would bring her here as soon as possible. Then I can get her the help she needs and I can leave you all in peace.”

Ospreymask frowned. He was charming enough but she knew better. She’d talked to Aldertail and seen just how scared she was of him. Whatever peace he offered, she was certain Aldertail wouldn’t be getting any of it.

“I’ll consider it,” Darkmoon said, causing Ospreymask to jolt in surprise.

“Good,” Razor said. “We’ll be here when you have your answer.” He settled back down, spreading out over the grass like he owned the place. Darkmoon nodded and turned to leave, Boldpaw slinking behind him. Ospreymask shared a stunned glance with Pantherhaze. She looked around the group of cats and realized they were all watching her. The attention made her pelt crawl and she took a self conscious step backwards before she moved to follow Darkmoon. Pantherhaze hurried to keep up with her. Over her shoulder, she heard one of the kittypets mutter to the others and they all laughed. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to know what he had said or not.

She bounded to close the distance with Darkmoon. The squirrels in her gut had turned into a stormcloud rumbling uneasily. “What was that about?” she asked, glaring at him.

“What do you mean? I told him we’d think over his offer, it’s not like I surrendered the territory to him.”

“You didn’t even try and get him to cross over the border,” she persisted. “If he’d been infringing on EarthClan territory, I bet you would have had a bit more to say to him.”

“Oh, Ospreymask, let’s not make it into a fight,” Pantherhaze fretted but she dismissed him with a flick of her tail.

“What would you have me do?” Darkmoon said, “We were severely outnumbered and we had nothing to bargain with. I did what I had to to get us safely out of that situation.” Ospreymask could see his point but it still felt like he was trying to ignore the point she was making.

“I’m just saying, you could have given him a little more pushback,” she grumbled.

“You should probably go tell Goldenstar about them being there,” Boldpaw spoke up. “That feels important for her to know.”

“Yeah,” Ospreymask relented with a frown.

“StarClan light your path,” Pantherhaze said as they branched off to return to camp. The wording stuck with Ospreymask. She wished StarClan would light their path! They needed an omen or a prophecy or something to help them get through this.

Razor’s little band there had just about as many cats as RisingClan had able bodied warriors and she knew for a fact there were more in the city. How many were there in total? How well trained were they? Even though it had been a whole year, the Clans still hadn’t fully recovered from the Red Gut. Maybe they would have been able to easily handle this before the plague but now… she worried about what would happen if they didn’t find some way to out-think or out-maneuver Razor.

UPDATES: - Rather than fight with a group of rogues, a patrol leaves them to muddy the border.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Ospreymask #Pantherhaze #Razor #Darkmoon #Boldpaw #clangenrising

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clangenrising · 5 months

Text

Month 9 - November Gathering

The night was cold and crisp. Snow had fallen for the first time the day before, blanketing the world in a thin, cold sheet. The snow had been mostly gone by the afternoon, but that hadn’t stopped Sparrowpaw and his littermates from tumbling around in it for at least an hour, although Barleypaw had much less of a taste for it than he and Floodpaw did. Even Floodpaw had eventually cut their games short, complaining he was freezing to death, but Sparrowpaw could have kept going. He loved the snow.

Now though, the full moon hung in a clear, dark sky and the wind bit at his ears and nose harshly. Beside him, Barleypaw shivered, and he pressed closer to her to try and share his thicker coat. Floodpaw shuddered next to him but pulled away when Sparrowpaw tried to curl his tail over his brother’s back. Sparrowpaw huffed indignantly at that. He reasoned that Floodpaw must have gotten it in his head somehow that real warriors froze their tails off or something. His brother could be such a meathead.

Or maybe he just wanted to look brave when they arrived at the Gathering. That morning Goldenstar had told them that if they got all of their chores done and helped stock the prey pile before nightfall that they would be allowed to attend and the three of them had eagerly rushed about the camp trying to get the dens clean in time.

Their mentors had all been chosen to come too. Obviously, Goldenstar had to go, and Nightfrost and Sagetooth had tagged along as well. Sparrowpaw had asked his Papa why he wasn’t coming and Oddstripe had told him that Branchbark’s cold needed to be monitored by someone, but he hadn’t believed him.

“He’s staying behind in case there’s an attack,” Floodpaw had whispered to him when he’d shared his concerns at dinner. “The warriors will need someone to patch their wounds if the rogues come looking for trouble.”

“They wouldn’t,” Sparrowpaw had huffed and Floodpaw had just shrugged in response.

“Maybe, but he’s staying just in case. I heard him talking about it with Goldenstar.”

That thought made Sparrowpaw’s tail twitch, even now. He didn’t like the idea of his Papa getting attacked by that terrible rogue while the Clan’s strongest fighters were out at the gathering. He could still taste the tangy stench of the city cats on his tongue, hear the tom’s jeering laughter at their fear. Sparrowpaw thought it was senseless how eager Floodpaw was to fight the rogues, but if he ever saw that tom again he thought he might just lose his sense too.

He looked up to the front of the little group to study the final member attending the gathering: Scorchplume. She walked close to Goldenstar’s side, speaking softly and with a serious expression. She had been one of the city cats, hadn’t she? It was strange to think about. She was so different from the cruel tom he had encountered or the frightened Aldertail. She was calm and charming and when they talked she seemed kind enough. She wasn’t as friendly as someone like Smokyrose, but she had never been mean to him or his siblings. Russetfrond insisted she was just pretending, and Sparrowpaw had to wonder if she was one of those ‘Pretender’ cats he had heard Aldertail talking about.

He glanced at Russetfrond and found him scowling at Goldenstar and Scorchplume’s conversation. Was he wondering what they were talking about? Now that he had thought about it, Sparrowpaw was pretty curious himself. Subtly shifting his pace to urge Barleypaw closer to the pair, he strained his ears forward to try and catch a glimpse of their conversation.

Scorchplume was in the middle of a sentence. “-vulnerable, but not too vulnerable. You could handle this by yourself, but it would be an inconvenience. You would see it as a favor if they lent you their aid. You have to convince them that they want your approval and this is how they get it.”

“You’re starting to sound like a real schemer, Scorch,” Goldenstar said with a smirk.

Scorchplume’s tail lashed. “This is serious!”

“Right, sorry,” Goldenstar said. “I’m just… not sure how I feel about lying to the other Clans like that.”

“It’s not lying,” Scorchplume said authoritatively. “It’s called speechcraft. You’re presenting your arguments in the most favorable manner possible in order to protect your Clan. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yes,” Goldenstar admitted.

“And see?” Scorchplume lifted her head, “I knew what you wanted and I told you I had it. You made the choice I wanted you to make and felt like it was entirely your decision. Speechcraft.”

Goldenstar frowned. “You are the worst.” Sparrowpaw heard Russetfrond huff a laugh under his breath.

“Perhaps,” replied Scorchplume, one ear flicking briefly backwards. “But I’m alive. Trust me, Goldie, this is how you survive.” Goldenstar worked her jaw for a second, as if she regretted her choice of words.

She opened her mouth to speak but Sagetooth beat her to it. “SkyClan’s already here.”

“Are we there?” Floodpaw perked up, his ears flicking forward despite the chill. “Are we at the Cornerstones?”

“We are,” Sagetooth smiled, but added sternly, “Now be on your best behavior. You’re representing RisingClan.”

Sparrowpaw straightened his posture and nodded. “We will, Sagetooth. Don’t worry.”

She smiled again and said, “Good lad.”

The group emerged from the sparse trees they had been walking through, into a clearing that smelled of more cats than Sparrowpaw had ever smelled in one place. The scents were fresh too, not like the fading border markers, and he opened his mouth to drink in the smell of living, breathing SkyClan cats. It was like stone and water, all minerals and musk. He felt Barleypaw press closer to him and smiled back at her.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’m sure they’ll be plenty friendly.”

“Go on and mingle,” Yarrowshade said. “So long as you don’t start any fights and you sit quietly once the Gathering starts, you should be fine to wander around.”

“Mm.” Grunted Russetfrond. “Remember, be polite but not too friendly. You may face these cats in battle someday.” He had given Sparrowpaw a lecture about that earlier that morning, about making sure he always knew where his allegiances really lay. Sparrowpaw nodded again, dutifully. He wouldn’t let his mentor down.

“Come on, man,” Yarrowshade frowned. “Let the kids have some fun for once.”

Russetfrond flicked his ear dismissively. “You mentor your apprentice and I’ll mentor mine, alright?”

“Cut it out, you guys,” Goldenstar tilted her head with a pained smile, “you’ll put clouds over the moon.” Both of the toms grunted and looked away in opposite directions. Scorchplume kept her back turned to all of them. Sparrowpaw couldn’t block out the feeling worming through his head that there was something grown-up going on that his kid brain couldn’t grasp. He didn’t like it.

“Come on!” Floodpaw said, getting Sparrowpaw’s attention with a swipe of his paw. “Let’s go!”

“Okay,” Sparrowpaw said slowly. Tearing his mind from the complexities of the grown-ups’ dynamics, he bounded after his brother, leaving Barleypaw behind. He glanced over his shoulder, to see if she was coming, but saw her slinking over to slide under Yarrowshade’s belly. Oh, well, he thought. If that’s what makes her happy then that’s fine.

As they approached the SkyClan cats, one young tom spotted them and moved to intercept. He was a moon or two older than them at most, with a silvery, spotted pelt and cool green eyes that flashed with interest.

He raised his tail in greeting and smiled widely as he spoke. “Hey! I’m Fernpaw! What’s your names?”

Sparrowpaw puffed up his chest, surprised at how much bigger the other apprentice was up close. “I’m Sparrowpaw,” he said. “This is Floodpaw.”

“We’re from RisingClan,” said Floodpaw proudly.

“Yeah,” nodded Fernpaw, “I know. You must be the Healer’s kits.”

“How did you know that?” Sparrowpaw asked, amazed.

“Everybody heard about it,” Fernpaw said. “Healers don’t usually have kits, so your mom is kind of special. Tangletooth says she’s nice though.”

“He’s our dad,” Floodpaw growled, a bit more aggressively than Sparrowpaw thought was necessary.

“Oh,” Fernpaw’s ears slipped backward for a split second. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” said Sparrowpaw, offering a smile. “Is this your first gathering too?”

“Yeah,” Fernpaw nodded enthusiastically, all tension slipping from his posture. “I was sick for a while so I had to miss the last one.”

“That sucks!” Floodpaw groaned sympathetically.

“Right?” laughed Fernpaw. “It’s my own fault though. I ate a deathberry.”

Sparrowpaw gasped. “And you survived?!”

“Of course he survived,” Floodpaw rolled his eyes and Sparrowpaw scowled at him.

Fernpaw just nodded, smiling without a touch of embarrassment. “Coyotechaser was totally freaking out! I passed out and woke up back in camp with everyone hovering about, it was crazy.”

“Who’s Coyotechaser?” asked Sparrowpaw, looking around the gathered cats.

“My mentor,” said Fernpaw, “She’s the deputy. Right over there?” He pointed with his muzzle to the pile of rubble at the bottom of the Cornerstones where Nightfrost had joined a brown and white tabby cat.

“My mentor is Goldenstar,” Floodpaw boasted, pointing to her as if he needed to. It was Sparrowpaw’s turn to roll his eyes.

Fernpaw on the other hand seemed impressed. “Woah! That’s awesome! Snowstar is my mom.”

“Oh,” Floodpaw said, looking at the snowy white cat sitting at the top of the stones.

Quickly, Sparrowpaw tried to cover for his brother’s rudeness. “That’s amazing! What’s it like being the leader’s kit?”

“Uh… I dunno,” Fernpaw shrugged. “I don’t think I get any special treatment or anything. Mom’s really good to everybody.” Sparrowpaw looked at Snowstar again and tried to size her up. She was a lot older than Goldenstar, that was for sure. He wondered how hard it would be for Goldenstar to convince her to help them.

A rustle at the far edge of camp announced the arrival of the third Clan of the night. At the head of them was a fierce looking blue spotted tabby and his much meeker looking deputy. Floodpaw gawked excitedly at them.

“Who is that?” he asked.

Fernpaw opened his jaws to scent them and said, “FallenClan. That must be Flightstar.”

“He’s so cool,” Floodpaw said, bouncing from paw to paw.

“He’s not that cool,” Sparrowpaw huffed. Remember, he thought, these cats could be our enemies one day. Casting a sideways glance, he regarded Fernpaw again. Would he have to face the other apprentice in battle someday? He hadn’t known him long, but already that broke Sparrowpaw’s heart. No wonder Russetfrond had drilled that teaching into him, he was going to have to be extremely vigilant to avoid forming inappropriate bonds with enemy warriors.

“No apprentices,” Floodpaw frowned, as the FallenClan cats finished filing in.

“Maybe EarthClan will have some,” Fernpaw shrugged.

“I hope they show up soon,” Floodpaw shivered. “I’m freezing out here.”

“We can move closer to the Cornerstones if you want,” suggested Fernpaw. “It’s warmer over there - less wind chill.”

“Oh, that would be great,” Floodpaw laughed and the three of them moved closer to the crumbling stone structure. True enough, as they stepped into the corner, the wind died suddenly. Floodpaw sighed in relief and huddled down next to Sparrowpaw. Sparrowpaw looked up at the top of the Cornerstones as Flightstar joined Snowstar and Goldenstar atop it. He had a feeling Flightstar was going to be difficult to convince, even with Scorchplume’s advice.

It wasn’t long until EarthClan arrived. Sparrowpaw spotted an apprentice padding near the front of the group, one nearly grown and wearing a pair of moth wings, one behind each ear. Sparrowpaw reared up on his hind legs to wave at him and the apprentice tilted his head at them and approached, his sleek, russet brown fur shining in the moonlight.

“Someone’s enthusiastic,” he said, raising one brow at them.

“You should come sit with us!” Sparrowpaw said, “It’s less cold here.”

“So it is,” the apprentice hummed, settling down with his tail around his paws.

Floodpaw puffed out his chest and said, “I’m Floodpaw of RisingClan. This is my brother, Sparrowpaw.”

“Fernpaw,” said Fernpaw casually.

“Boldpaw,” said the newcomer.

“Boldpaw,” Floodpaw repeated, nodding to himself. “That’s a great name.”

“I know,” said Boldpaw with a smile. Floodpaw pursed his lips and swallowed, looking away. Sparrowpaw tilted his head in confusion but shook it off. Floodpaw was such a weirdo.

“Alright! Let’s get started!” Snowstar’s voice rang out over the clearing and the apprentices all fell quiet. Sparrowpaw was vibrating with excitement. Above him sat the most powerful cats alive, the leaders and deputies of the four Clans. He felt honored to be sitting so close to them.

Snowstar continued, “We are blessed to have a clear sky tonight after the snow yesterday. As we prepare for leafbare, we in SkyClan thank the stars for the bountiful prey we have been blessed with.” Turning to look at Goldenstar, she added, “However, we recently drove a fox from its den and while we tried to chase it east, it may present a problem in the future. RisingClan especially should keep an eye out for any signs of foxes.”

“Great,” Floodpaw grumbled. “First rogues, now foxes?”

“Rogues?” Fernpaw whispered, but Coyotechaser shot him a look from her perch nearby and he fell silent again.

“Thank you for the warning,” Goldenstar said, dipping her head. “If there isn’t any more news from SkyClan, I actually have a warning of my own.” Snowstar shook her head invitingly and Goldenstar stepped to the front of the Cornerstones.

“It has come to my attention,” she said, “that we have all been living next to a serious threat that has until recently been unaware of our existence.” Cats shifted curiously and Sparrowpaw looked over his shoulder, suddenly wishing he were in the back and not the front. “The twoleg city, just over the thunderpath, is home to a ruthless gang of rogues led by a cat named Razor. A few weeks ago, we took in a young cat who was fleeing his wrath who has since taken the name Aldertail and become one of our warriors. Shortly after, Razor’s scouts came looking for her and harassed our new apprentices. It is our belief that Razor will stop at nothing to kill Aldertail and that he may even try to claim our territory for his own.”

Flightstar scoffed. “It sounds to me like you brought this on yourself by taking in a stray kittypet, Goldenstar.”

“What were we supposed to do?” Goldenstar frowned. “Let him slaughter her for a crime she didn’t even commit?”

“How do you know she’s innocent?” Flightstar shot back. “These are kittypet problems and we should let the kittypets sort them out. This doesn’t concern us.”

“Yes, it does,” Goldenstar said firmly. “Now that Razor is aware of the Clans, he is a threat to all of us. His cats are not kittypets, they are as strong as any of our warriors and they will only get bolder.”

“What would you like us to do?” said Orangestar. Sparrowpaw had barely even noticed her, she was hunched in such a solemn, dejected way that she seemed nearly invisible beside the rest of the leaders. She shrugged and shook her head, “I mean, Razor sounds like bad news but how are we even supposed to help? It’s not like we could launch an attack on the city.” Beside him, Boldpaw sighed bitterly and shook his head.

“I propose we present a united front,” Goldenstar said. “All the Clans will send warriors to defend our southern border from intrusion.”

“And leave our own borders vulnerable?” Flightstar asked. “No, absolutely not. This is your mess, Goldenstar. You can deal with it on your own.”

“If we don’t handle it together now, it will be harder to handle later,” countered Goldenstar. “All of us are weakened by the Red Gut, but together we could stand a chance.”

“I am… inclined to agree with Flightstar,” Snowstar said, and Sparrowpaw felt his stomach drop. “It’s not that I don’t think this is important but I can’t spare warriors to defend a border so far from my camp. Maybe if there were a more specific instance, a battle you were preparing for, but to lose a chunk of our warriors indefinitely does not seem wise.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Goldenstar, but my first duty is to my Clan and I have mouths to feed.”

Goldenstar looked lost. “Orangestar?” she asked, “RisingClan would see any aid as a favor to be repaid.”

Orangestar considered it for a moment, looking sullenly at her paws, then lifted her head and said, “EarthClan will stand with you. We can hash out the details later.”

“Thank you,” Goldenstar sighed, smiling.

“And if you have a more actionable request,” Snowstar said, “send word and SkyClan will come to your aid.”

“I will,” said Goldenstar.

Sparrowpaw frowned. That definitely wasn’t what they had wanted. He looked over his shoulder, searching the crowd for Scorchplume, and found her sitting alone near the back of the group. She was shaking her head in disappointment. Sparrowpaw wondered if things would have been different if Goldenstar had tried her ‘speechcraft’ thing. He hoped that EarthClan’s help would be enough. Because if not, things were about to get very bad.

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