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taleofturtleclan · 4 months

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MOON 11

Dustjump blinked slowly down at the body of the young cat before her. The sounds of her mourning companions filled her ears, mixing together into a crescendo of grief and loss. She’d swore to herself she would never lose another cat. Not after that night on the ship when they’d lost nearly everything. She’d fought with all she had in her to save Foam and Brokenmast, and when she’d succeeded it had felt good. Powerful. Like perhaps she could keep them all alive if she just worked hard enough. With Currentheart, she hadn’t even had the chance to try.

Tidechaser had strode into camp in the pouring rain, pelt plastered to his sides, the water making the huge tom look so much smaller than he usually did. Sand had been trailing behind him, tail dragging in the mud and head low, looking like he’d just experienced the wreck anew. Dustjump hadn’t even needed to see the bloodied ginger fur of the cat across Tidechaser’s shoulders to know that another tragedy had caught up to them at last. It had been something called a boar, Tidechaser had told them. They’d never ventured this close to the coast before, but now that one was here, they all needed to be more cautious. Dustjump had barely heard a word he said, too absorbed with the loss of the young, energetic tom.

For a while, it seemed like they could have made a life here. Had that been anything more than a grand illusion? There were no kits among them now. Many of the cats in their group were young, but in time, they would age and die as well, if disease or bloodshed or strange accidents like the one today didn’t take them first. And then everything they had built would be gone, nothing more than dust on the wind, with no-one left to remember that their paws had ever left prints on these dunes. The cats that had died on the ship had been the same. Her housefolk had been the same. They’d all been taken away, and when Dustjump was gone, everything she’d known about them would vanish, like they’d never even existed at all. It was a sad, bleak fate that they all shared. Dustjump wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so hopeless or alone, not even after the night of the wreck. What do we do now? If we’re all going to fade into nothing, why bother trying at all?

Dustjump felt a shifting under her feet and snatched her paw back with a hiss. She expected to see one of the little crabs that scurried across the beach without end. Annoying, painful, even, if they got you in the right place, but not particularly harmful. What she saw was too odd and dark to be a crab. She peered down into the sand, gazing deep into the creature's strange face and dark, shining eyes. She didn’t have long to look, though, because as soon as it had shaken itself free of the sand, it began pushing away with its strange, pawless limbs. Dustjump felt a spark of recognition. It was the flippers that gave it away. It was a turtle. She had seen a few in greenleaf up on the beaches, digging around in the sand. She hadn’t gotten close enough to see what they’d been doing then, but Dustjump supposed that the emergence of this strange, disproportionate little turtle indicated that they’d been kitting. Or whatever it was that turtles did. The little turtle finally disappeared over the rise of the dune, and Dustjump let her gaze linger where it had vanished. She wondered, vaguely, where it was going. Then she felt another nudge at her paw. Dustjump looked down to find the sand nearly churning beneath her paws as turtle after turtle fought its way free of the earth. How big are their litters, she thought in dismay. A few even emerged from under Currentheart’s body, and she could just make out her campmates murmuring to one another in confusion and discomfort.

There were so many of the creatures, coming out all over the place, scrambling in every direction. It felt almost disrespectful to Currentheart and the vigil they had been trying to hold. She was about to suggest moving their fallen friend when the little creatures, previously flailing about every which way in a chaotic display of confusion and fear, began to turn, one by one and in groups, all in the direction that the first turtle had vanished. Then they started pushing forward in a desperate struggle, as though something was calling them, guiding them…

Dustjump’s breath caught in her throat. The words of the legend Tidechaser had shared moons ago rang in her ears: “if ever you or your descendents are lost on the way to the Realm of Stars, me and my kin will seek you out…” Dustjump inhaled sharply as Tidechaser spoke the words she’d been thinking into existence once more. “...and guide you on your way.”

Dustjump didn’t give herself time to think or doubt. She heard the yowls of shock and question behind her, and realized that she was already on her paws, already running. She didn’t stop to explain, she couldn’t stop. Please understand, she implored them in her mind. Please follow.

Tidechaser must have taken off at the same moment she had, or heartbeats after, because he was beside her now, pulling in front of her. Oh no you don’t! She increased her pace, pushing faster, faster. She had to be there first. She didn’t know why she was so certain, she just knew. They set a brutal, paw-pounding pace over the dunes, kicking up sand in their wake. Up and down the dunes they went, following the trails of the tiny, dark turtles crawling towards the open sea. Dustjump’s jaws were wide now, her breathing heavy as her lungs ached with effort. When was the last time she’d run like this? The night of the wreck? No, she’d been too exhausted. Maybe never. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered, but not in the hopeless, soul-sucking sense she’d felt when she’d lost everything on that fateful night. Right here, right now, nothing else mattered, because this moment was so immense, so important that it swallowed everything else up. Her whole life, everything she’d ever known had been building to this moment.

They crested the rise of the last dune, looking down upon a beach alive with motion as hundreds of tiny turtles struggled towards a sea dancing with white starlight like it was their destiny. On another night, the site would have been breathtaking, but tonight Dustjump barely stopped to glance at it. She knew that her tiny companions would not mind. They were all striving towards the same vast ocean.

Dustjump reached the water heartbeats before Tidechaser did, both of them skidding to a stop on the wet sand, the gentle ebb and flow of the tide washing over their paws.The clouds had cleared, and the starlight was bright on the water now, nearly blinding in its brilliance. Dustjump took a deep breath and let her heart, not her mind, guide her.

“Currentheart, Pearl… I’m sorry it took me so long to understand. But I’m here now. And I’m ready to listen.”

The starlight on the water shifted, trembled, swirled, seemed to rise up out of the ocean to rest above it. And then they were before her. Dustjump gasped, and heard Tidechaser’s sharp inhale of breath beside her. They were beautiful. The memory of the dull, glassy-eyed corpse amidst the dunes above was obliterated by this vibrant young cat that seemed to radiate life and strength. Eyes shining with white fire, stars glittering in his pelt, he dipped his head to her. The cat beside him was no less resplendent, her ginger pelt glossy and thick with its own stars, a serene expression resting gently on her face. She swept her tail around her paws and spoke. “We are pleased to greet you, Dustjump and Tidechaser. We have been waiting.” Pearl’s voice was still her own, but there was a strength to it, a resonance that had not been present in life. Dustjump bowed her head before them, struck momentarily speechless by their majesty.

Thankfully, Tidechaser voiced the words that she could not seem to formulate. “How… how is this possible? The legend said… but I never suspected…”

“All legends have a kernel of truth somewhere,” Currentheart responded, his voice echoing with light and life, “this one had more than most.”

Pearl’s starry gaze fixed on something behind Dustjump. The others must have followed us, after all. She turned to face her companions to a chorus of sound. Some exclamations were surprised, some confused, a few scared. Shell had clearly led the group, standing stock still a few paces ahead of them now, her eyes blown wide. “Currentheart… Pearl… I… Dustjump, what is going on?”

Dustjump opened her jaws to reply, but her words were drowned out by a howl so filled with grief and love and longing that it took her breath away. Sand barreled past Shell, past Dustjump and Tidechaser to collapse before the starry figure of Currentheart in a bundle of trembling cream colored fur. “Currentheart, Currentheart I’m so sorry, it should’ve been me, you shouldn’t have pushed me out of the way!”

“The choice was mine to make, my teacher, my friend,” Currentheart’s words were gentle, but firm. “I would make the same choice if I could go back to that moment, knowing what would happen.”

“It isn’t fair,” Sand moaned, “that I should live only by your loss. How am I supposed to live with that?”

“You do not live by my loss. You live by my gift. That which was freely given, out of love. Do not waste the life I saved by bemoaning the other paths fate might have taken. Honor that gift by living your life fully, by being true to yourself, by caring for those around you.”

Dustjump stood beside Sand now, brushing her tail over his spine in a soothing gesture. The trembling stopped, and he drew in a long, shaky breath. “I’ll try,” he promised. “I’ll be the best cat I can be, and I’ll make you proud.”

“I’ll be watching over you, always.” Currentheart purred.

Dustjump hated to break in, but Tidechaser seemed to have no such compunctions. “Is that how this works then? When cats die they watch over us from the Realm of Stars, just like in the stories? And we can just talk to them whenever we want?” Pearl considered an answer, but Tidechaser didn’t give her time to formulate one, his tone growing suspicious, hostile. “I… I tried to reach you, once. When Wavehopper died. I sat for hours, staring at the sea night after night, talking to the air, hoping, praying that I would reach her. Why didn’t it work then, if it works now? Where is she?”

Oh, Tidechaser. Dustjump wondered if she would ever know everything there was to this cat she considered her friend.

Pearl sighed, her tail tip twitching. “There are a number of reasons you couldn’t reach her. It would take all night to explain all of them. But the biggest part of it is community. What you all have built here on this beach, with cats supporting one another, learning and growing and sharing experiences, is something very special. You are all part of something greater than yourselves, a great web of connections. You each have a unique bond to every other cat here, you each know small details about one another that perhaps no other cat knows. And most importantly, you share memories of one another. That kind of closeness–even to cats you lack a deep personal connection with–it doesn’t just vanish when a cat leaves the mortal realm to walk the stars. That thread of the web may be gone, but the threads that surrounded it, the memories that those still living share with the dead, those things linger, and it is that which keeps a spirit connected to the world of the living.”

“So?” Tidechaser growled, “I haven’t forgotten Wavehopper. I think about her every day. Are you saying I didn’t love her enough to keep her here?”

“Tidechaser,” Dustjump hissed a warning, but Pearl gestured with her tail to show that she took no offense.

“Tidechaser, which tree is less likely to fall? One with a single thick root, or one with many branching roots?

“One with branching roots,” Tidechaser growled,” but I don’t see why–”

“Connections between the living and dead work the same way,” Currentheart interrupted, his voice deep but gentle. “Many connections anchor a cat more closely to the living world than a single one, no matter how deep it runs.”

Tidechaser fell silent, his shoulders slumping.

“That does not mean your sister is lost, Tidechaser,” Pearl added gently. “She waits for you in our realm–the Realm of the Stars. You will see her again when you join us.”

Tidechaser nodded silently, his tirade at an end.

“So you’re saying that… because we all knew you two, and because we all know each other, we’re…linked?” Dustjump felt callus, moving the conversation away from Tidechaser’s sister, but she was desperate to understand what the starry cats were saying. Pearl nodded, and Dustjump continued. “And cats outside of this… this Clan of ours still walk the stars, they just aren’t tethered to our world?”

“Clan,” Pearl purred, “that is the perfect name for it. Other cats have formed Clans, in other places, other times. This will be the first Clan to live along these shores, though. Yes, Dustjump, you understand my meaning very well. I was right to choose you. When the cats of your living Clan die, young or old, they will come and join our group in the stars–StarClan.”

“StarClan…” Dustjump breathed. The word felt powerful, felt right. Then the rest of Pearl’s words caught up to her. “Wait–you said you chose me? For what?”

“To be the first intermediary between us and your living Clan,” Pearl announced proudly. “It is a duty commonly given to a Clan’s Healer–though there have been other titles, should you prefer them– Star Seeker, Seer, Medicine Cat…”

“Healer!” Dustjump blurted out. “I like Healer. It’s what I am, it’s what I do.” The other names also made her head spin with the implications, but she didn’t want to say that out loud. A Healer… she could be a Healer. “But why do you need an intermediary? You’ve appeared to us all tonight, why not continue to do that?”

Pearl shook her head sadly. “Tonight is a rare night– the sky is clear, the moon is high, and we have only recently passed the Longest Night, and our realms are still close to one another. It is easier to touch your realm now than it otherwise will be. Even so, to appear to so many cats outside of the Longest Night is not an easy task. It is far easier to find a single cat to speak to–a cat who holds dear the memories of those who have passed, who is willing to follow her heart and listen to the whispers on the wind. When we wish to speak, we will most frequently speak with you. In dreams and in signs we will most often reach you, but if you need us, search for us in the reflections of the stars on the water, and we will come.”

Dustjump dipped her head, honored by their faith in her. “I will be ready to listen when you call,” she promised humbly.

Pearl turned her blazing gaze away from Dustjump, focusing on Shell, who sat up straighter. “And you, dear Shell… oh, what can I even say? I am so proud of you.” There was a fondness in Pearl’s voice that had been present for no other cat, and Dustjump wondered at the bond they shared. “You have been the North Star to the survivors, guiding them through the wreck and helping them build a new life here. Shell is no more, for I name you Shellstar, guiding light of your Clan. Think carefully on the cat you wish to lead the Clan next, and make them your deputy, so that even after you are gone, the Clan will not be without a guiding star.”

“Shellstar,” Dustjump breathed her friend’s new name like a prayer, and swept through the rest of the survivors like a gentle breeze.

“Shellstar, Shellstar, Shellstar…”

“Cats of the shipwreck, survivors, warriors,” Pearl raised her voice to address the rest of the group as the whispers of Shellstar’s new name faded out. “We led you here tonight to show you that what is lost is never truly gone, so long as you keep faith and hold it in your hearts. You are more than you were when you arrived on this beach– you are a Clan, and a Clan supports its members through all manner of hardship. But each Clan must have a name that defines it–a name that binds its members together through meaning and memory. By what name do you wish to be called?”

Unlike when Currentheart had been named, there was no discussion amongst the onlookers, no pondering of options. This name would define not a single cat, but every cat among them, as well as their descendents far into the future. To put forth an option that you lacked absolute conviction in was unthinkable. You either knew the Clan’s name, or you didn’t.

And Dustjump knew.

“TurtleClan!” The word ripped free of her chest like a bird taking flight, like something she’d held inside her heart for moons finally breaking free. “We are TurtleClan, always striving towards the sea and the stars, honoring those who came before us with our every breath.”

Silence.

And then cheers. “TurtleClan! TurtleClan! TurtleClan! TURTLECLAN!”

Currentheart raised his tail for silence, and the cheering slowly faded out. It was Pearl who spoke. “Cats of TurtleClan, we implore you to live truly, to care for one another, and to act with honor until it is your time to join us in StarClan. We are with you always, through your pains and glories, through high and low, times both harsh and kind. Never forget where you came from, or all that you have gone through to get there.”

It was a farewell, and they all knew it. On the distant horizon, Dustjump could make out the slightest lightening of the sky. The night was coming to a close, and the stars would soon fade into dawn. “Go in peace,” Dustjump whispered. “I will be ready to receive your messages, when you are ready to share them.”

The StarClan cat’s eyes sparkled with joy and fulfillment as the silver stars in their pelts winked out one by one, and their forms faded into mist. The cats remained on the shoreline long after the spirits had faded, staring out across the ocean as the sun rose for the first time on TurtleClan.

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #tidechaser #dustjump #currentheart #pearl #sandtail #shellstar #moon 11

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taleofturtleclan · 4 months

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Additional Information:

Mate: Shellstar

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #dustjump #original character #character art #character sheet

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taleofturtleclan · 6 months

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MOON 11

“Spindlefleck, we honor your integrity and strength of spirit, and we welcome you as a full member of our group."

"Spindlefleck! Spindlefleck! Spindlefleck! Spindlefleck!"

Spindlepaw-- no, she was Spindlefleck now-- Spindlefleck's eyes found Foam in the crowd. Her former mentor’s gaze shone with pride as their eyes met. Integrity and strength of spirit… those were the values that Shell had chosen to describe her. Values that she never would have developed without his guidance. She blinked her gratitude at him. Thank you, my teacher.

Shell leapt down from the Tallmast, striding forward to touch noses with Spindlefleck. “Well done, Spindlefleck,” Shell murmured, “and congratulations. We have all been looking forward to this day for many moons.”

Not as much as I have, Spindlefleck added silently.

“Now, there’s one final thing,” Shell purred, Guiding her over to where Dustjump was waiting, tail wrapped around her paws. Beside her lay a large, flat stone, caked with layers of old mud in varying shades.

“Have you gathered the earth you want to use?” Dustjump asked.

“I have,” Spindlefleck meowed. “I gathered it this morning before hunting.”

Each cat to make their right of passage selected and gathered earth from somewhere on the territory to use in mixing the mud that they would use to leave their pawprint on the passage boulder. From the corner of her eye, Spindlefleck could see Currentheart weaving his way through the crowd with the leaf-wrapped pile of earth she’d collected early that morning. She felt a rush of gratitude for her friend–she wouldn’t have wanted to step away from this for a moment. As Currentheart placed the bundle on the stone and Dustjump began to unwrap the bundle, Shell raised her voice so that all of the gathered cats could hear. “Whence comes your chosen earth?” Shell asked.

“From the tops of the cliffs upshore of camp,” Spindlefleck responded, her meow strong and clear.

“Why did you choose this place?”

Spindlefleck knew that some cats might have given a long, drawn out explanation. Not her. “I love the feeling of the wind in my fur. When I stand against the ocean breeze atop the cliffs, I feel strong and free.”

Shell dipped her head. “Well spoken. We will now mix your chosen earth with water from the sea upon this stone, where each of us mixed our own passage markers. The remnants of mud left here by each of us will mix with the earth you have chosen, binding you as one of us.” At her words. Dustjump squeezed out a sodden moss ball above the pile of earth, mixing it around with a paw until it congealed into a thick paste.

Silently, Spindlefleck stepped forward, coating her paw in the mud. It was cold and gritty against her paw pad, and she repressed a shiver. It might be unpleasant, but she had to bear with it. This was her right of passage! She wasn't a kit in the nursery, mewling at the slightest discomfort. She was one of the survivors now. A full member of the group. An equal. Finally, finally she was an equal to all of the others. Finally they could stop treating her like she was too young or too inexperienced to be taken seriously. It had been a long time coming.

With her paw tucked up to her chest, she limped across the clearing. The crowd of onlookers parted for her as she went, with a few cats offering quiet words of congratulations or welcome. When she reached the Passage Boulder, Spindlefleck spent a moment scanning the striped face of the rock for where she would make her mark–there. Currentheart’s mark stood alone, towards the entrance of the den the adult cats shared. With a deep breath, Spindlefleck reached out her mud-coated paw, and pressed it slowly, firmly against the surface of the stone, just a little below her denmate’s mark. The mud squelched back between her toes as she pressed down, but she did not tremble: her heart was too full of joy for anything else to register. She had waited for this day for so long. Finally, she had caught up to her friends.

“We are proud to have you join us,” Shell meowed formally, “you may not wash the mud from your paw until sunhigh tomorrow. Bear it proudly a symbol of your new rank among us, and know that from this day forward, wherever your path takes you, your campmates will follow in your pawsteps to support you.”

Spindlefleck raised her chin as her campmates tilted their heads back to yowl their pride in her out into the sky once more.

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #dustjump #shellstar #spindlefleck #moon 11

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taleofturtleclan · 7 months

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MOON 7

Spindlepaw trotted towards the adults den that most of the survivors shared, a spring in her step. It felt good to be up early, before the camp was bustling with activity. The air felt fresher, somehow, at this early hour. Usually, Foam was the one to come and wake her up, but today she had beaten him to it. He liked to begin her training early so that they could finish early enough to return to camp and bask in the warmth of the Leaf-fall sun before it fell too far. She enjoyed the early finish to training, but the early start had been difficult to get used to. A little thrill went through her at being the one to prod Foam awake this morning. See how he liked a paw in the side.

Spindlepaw slid around the striped, granite boulder that shielded most of the entrance. She loved the rough texture of the rock on her thin fur, and she shivered with pleasure as she felt a knot in her fur tug free at the sensation.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark of the den, Spindlepaw felt her gaze pulled to the opposite face of the striped boulder, where she knew a few dried, clay paw prints were scattered. The survivors had started calling this rock the Passage Boulder- every cat that graduated to full adult status in the group left their pawprint on the inner face when they moved into this den. One day soon, her pawprint would join the others on the mighty rock. She knew just where she would put it, too- right next to Currentheart’s mark.

Spindlepaw pulled her eyes away from the Passage Boulder. She wouldn’t ever get to leave her mark there if she didn’t complete her training, first, and that started with waking Foam. She didn’t have to search far for her mentor. He made his nest near the entrance of the den, his large body blocking most of the wind and rain for the other cats further inside.

Spindle raised a paw to give Foam a wicked jab in his side, and froze as a sour scent hit the roof of her mouth. Something was wrong. She narrowed her eyes, peering closer at her mentor’s sleeping form. The brown and white tabby’s fur was unkempt, sticking up at odd angles. Even without the strange scent, that would have been enough for Spindlepaw to know that something was wrong. Foam’s fur was never a mess. He took great pride in keeping his long fur well groomed and sleek, combing out any tangles from the day before he went to sleep.

“Foam?” Spindlepaw’s quiet mew trembled a little at the end. What was going on?

The brown and white heap of fur shifted, and Foam’s head appeared from over his shoulder, eyes dull. “Spindlepaw,” he rasped, “I’ll be–” his words broke off into a coughing fit. “I’ll be out soon,” he gasped when the fit finally ended. “I just need a moment.”

Spindlepaw felt the fur on her tail starting to bush. Her mentor was clearly unwell. “Foam, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he coughed, “I just didn’t sleep well last night, that’s–” another coughing fit cut him off.

Spindlepaw’s ears pinned back, her eyes growing wide as she drew away from the clearly sick cat. “I’m going to get Dustjump,” she meowed firmly.

“I don’t need Dustjump, I’m feeling fine–”

“What’s going on here?” Tidechaser’s deep mew cut into the conversation. “Can’t you two take this outside? You’re going to wake the whole den.”

“I think Foam is sick,” Spindlepaw meowed frantically.

The large tom leaned over from his nest to sniff at Foam’s pelt. He recoiled with a hiss. “I smell greencough!” he growled.

“Greencough? Is-is that bad?” Spindlepaw meowed. But she didn’t need an answer. The expression on Tidechaser’s face told her all she needed to know

“Fetch Dustjump. Now.”

Spindlepaw took off across camp without another word.

Spindlepaw paced back and forth outside of Dustjump’s den. As soon as she’d seen Foam, the old tabby molly had enlisted Tidechaser’s help in moving the sick cat into her den, away from the rest of the healthy cats. When Spindle had tried to follow them in, Tidechaser had barred her way.

“Stay back,” the pale tom had growled. “You can’t help here.”

Spindlepaw had wanted to protest, wanted to tell Tidechaser that he was her mentor, that she should be in there with him, but she knew that the tom would never be swayed by her pleas. Besides, a small voice in her mind whispered, he’s right. And so she paced, waiting for news of her mentor’s health.

When Dustjump finally emerged from the den, Spindlepaw was on her in a heartbeat. “How is he? Is he going to be alright?”

Dustjump’s eyes were dark with worry. “I don’t know, Spindlepaw,” she admitted. “It’s very early in the season for greencough, but that’s what he has. It can be fatal if it isn’t treated.”

“But you can treat him, right?” Spindlepaw heard her voice crack with fear. She couldn’t lose Foam, not now. He was the cat that had saved her from the sinking ship, the cat that had taught her everything she knew, the cat who represented everything Spindlepaw hoped to someday be.

“With the right herbs,” Dustjump meowed carefully, “I can help him along the path to recovery. But nothing is certain.”

It wasn’t a promise, but it would have to do. Spindlepaw steeled herself, forcing her fur to lay flat. Foam had saved her life, once. Now it was her turn to save his. “Then what are we waiting for?” she meowed firmly. “Let’s go find some herbs.”

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #dustjump #spindlepaw #foamfeather #Moon 7

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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taleofturtleclan · 7 months

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MOON 9

“Alright Foam, take a deep breath and hold it.” Foam obeyed, filling his lungs as much as he could, holding the air in. Dustjump, her ear pressed close to his chest, was silent. A heartbeat passed. Then another.

“Let the air out,” Dustjump instructed.

The breath left Foam’s lungs with a sigh.

“Again,” Dustjump meowed.

Foam repeated the exercise, holding his breath. He could feel a bit of dust tickling his nose, but he couldn’t sneeze, not now. He closed his eyes tight, trying to ignore the sensation. This time, the exhalation came with a sense of relief as the dust drifted away from his nose. Dustjump pulled away from Foam’s chest, her eyes bright.

“Foam, you’re all better! You can return to light duties starting tomorrow. No long patrols, and stay out of the water until the half-moon.”

“You mean I don’t have greencough any longer?” Foam meowed.

“Yes,” Dustjump confirmed with a purr, “you’ve managed to recover. It can be a deadly disease, but you’re a young, healthy cat. If anyone would have been able to recover without herbs, it would have been you. Still, we should count our blessings. This was by no means a certain outcome.”

Brokenmast dragged himself out of his nest, over to Foam. “Congratulations!” He purred, butting his head against Foam’s shoulder. “I’ll miss having you around, though. Even if we did have to shout across the den to talk.”

“I promise I’ll visit you often,” Foam purred, “and before long, you’ll be able to move to the communal den as well.”

Brokenmast peered down at his splayed legs, focusing hard enough to tremble as he flexed each leg in turn, moving toes, ankle and knees. Over the last moon, his mobility in the limbs had improved remarkably, though they could not yet support his standing weight. “I hope you’re right,” Brokenmast meowed. “I’m really starting to believe it might be possible.”

“It is possible,” Dustjump cut in, “and you’re getting close.”

Brokenmast opened his jaws, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by a call from just outside the den’s entrance. “Dustjump, what’s the verdict?” Spindlepaw. Foam felt guilty, leaving her to her own ends these last few moons. Luckily, Shell had ensured she was always paired with another adult for training each day, so she hadn’t fallen too far behind, but still. Foam was supposed to be her mentor. He wanted to be the one to guide her training.

“You can come in, Spindlepaw,” Dustjump replied. “He’s all better.”

The little ginger cat came barreling into the den, fur fluffed with excitement. “Is he really?!” She exclaimed.“I am,” Foam purred, rising to his paws with a stretch. “We’ll resume your training tomorrow. I hope Shell hasn’t let you get too used to sleeping in.”

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #dustjump #foamfeather #brokenmast #spindlepaw #Moon 9

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taleofturtleclan · 7 months

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MOON 8

“Oh no, no, no, NO!” Dustjump pawed through the herbs frantically, hoping, praying, that she’d find some part of her stores left untouched. There was nothing. No matter how many times she checked, there was still nothing. The strange, shiny blue beetles had chewed through parts of every herb, every leaf she’d had in her den.

This was a disaster. A true disaster. Without the herbs she couldn’t treat Foam’s greencough, couldn’t treat Brokenmast’s sores, couldn’t treat any other ailment a cat might come to her with. What if the greencough spread? What if Brokenmast caught it? He’d been doing so well lately. He couldn’t stand quite yet, but he was able to move his legs. But if he caught greencough… She could barely bring herself to consider it. She could do nothing but watch as the cats around her suffered and died. Just like on the ship. She’d wanted to save her twolegs. She’d tried so hard. But she had been too small to help. She’d thought that, maybe, if she spent the rest of her life healing and helping the rest of the survivors, it would make up for all the lives she hadn’t been able to save. She’d been determined to protect the cats around her, they were all she had left. Now, she couldn’t even do that much. She was powerless to help once again. She had to go, had to find more herbs, clear out all of this mess in her den, store the new herbs higher, off the ground where they’d be harder for the beetles to find. It’s leaf-fall, where am I going to find fresh herbs? Doesn’t matter, I’ll have to find them somewhere, somehow, I CAN’T BE POWERLESS AGAIN– her thoughts were cut off abruptly as she barrelled headfirst into another cat. She hadn’t even realized she’d been walking, hadn’t realized she’d been staring down at her paws. She blinked up at the cat she’d crashed into. Shell. Dustjump felt a mix of relief and shame creep through her pelt. On one paw, she was desperate for the comfort and support of her dear friend, on the other paw, she didn’t want her to see Dustjump like this, a frantic wreck.

“Dustjump? What’s wrong?” Shell’s gentle mew pulled Dustjump out of her spiral of worry and anxiety. She had to deal with the situation in front of her. It was bad, yes, but worrying about what had happened before and what might happen next did nothing to help in the now. She took a deep breathe, exhaling long and slow before she answered Shell.

“Beetles got into the herb stores,” she meowed, and was impressed by the calm tone of her own voice. “Shell, they destroyed everything.” She fought to keep the frantic edge of fear from creeping back into her voice.

“That’s… that’s really bad, isn’t it?” Shell meowed quietly.

“It’s disastrous,” Dustjump admitted. “Shell, there’s little I can do for any cat other than keep their wounds clean without herbs. I certainly can’t treat Foam like this.”

Shell stiffened. “I’ll alert all of our patrols to keep an eye out for any and all herbs. And you and I can go out now, see if we can’t find something together. It’s going to be okay, Dust. We’ll get through this together.”

The use of her nickname calmed Dustjump marginally, but it wasn’t enough to stop the fear racing through her veins. “And if it’s not okay? If I lose Foam or Brokenmast? Or both of them?”

“Then it won’t be your fault,” Shell said firmly. “Dustjump, every cat has seen how hard you’ve been working to keep all of us safe and healthy. No cat would blame you.”

“I’d blame me,” she whispered.

Shell leaned in close. “I’m not going to let you do that to yourself. Not again.”

Staring back into Shell’s shining green eyes, Dustjump wondered if maybe, just maybe, things would work out. She took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing herself to calm down as much as was possible. “Let’s go find some herbs.”

Dustjump didn’t try to speak as she followed Shell back to camp, a bundle of herbs clutched tight in her jaws. The pickings had been thin, this late in the year. The scraggly clump of daisy that they’d managed to find would be great to help the aches in Brokenmast’s atrophied legs as they struggled to learn how to move again, but for Foam… she had nothing for Foam. He would have to fight this with his own strength. Despair began to close its jaws around her heart. If she lost Foam now, after all he’d been through… Just then, a cold wind rose up from the ocean, blowing hard against Dustjump and Shell as they crested the rise of dunes leading back to camp. The cats crouched down, bracing themselves against the powerful gust. Tidechaser’s words in her den from a few moons ago drifted back to her: …and so, when fate seems grim, remember that Change and his disruptive winds are out there, dashing about, stirring each cat’s life so that no future is inescapable. Dustjump squeezed her eyes shut, pausing at the top of the rise. It was just a story, yes, but it was a hopeful one. And just now, she could use a little hope. If any part of Tidechaser’s story was true… Change, please bring your winds here. Save Foam from this fate that seems so insurmountable.

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #dustjump #shellstar #foamfeather #Moon 8 #warriors oc

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taleofturtleclan · 1 year

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MOON 0

“Come on!” the black tabby yowled to be heard over the wailing of the storm. “We have to keep moving, we’re not safe here!”

“How could something like this happen?” The old brown molly murmured, her voice nearly lost amidst the crashing waves, fur plastered to her thin frame. “What will we do now?”

The dark tabby dragged the old cat to her feet by her scruff, ignoring her friend’s yowl. “We’ll worry about that after we survive the night, Dustjump,” she growled into her ear. “Right now, I need you here.”

Dustjump shuddered, collecting herself, and gave her friend a shaky nod. The black tabby nudged her along towards the forest.

As Dustjump disappeared into the undergrowth, the black tabby looked over her shoulder, taking stock of the cats who had made it to shore. There was a young cream and white tom-Jasper, she thought his name was- close behind her, looking terrified but determined to keep a grasp on the struggling kit in his jaws.

“Let go of me!” The orange tomkit yowled furiously. “I can walk by myself!” Jasper’s eyes met hers, a silent question. She shook her head. Any other day, she would have respected the kit’s independence, but tonight... It would be far to easy for the little tom to be separated from the rest of the survivors. He’d simply have to suffer the humiliation of being carried. Just behind Jasper, another young tom was padding up the beach slowly, looking almost serene, but the black tabby knew he had passed beyond panic and into shock. She glanced worriedly at the limp kit in his jaws, relief flooding her when the tiny ginger kit coughed up a mouthful of salty water. If she was still breathing, she might survive yet.

“Algernon, where’s Panko? I thought he was on the boat with you.” the big brown and white tom stared at her blankly for a few heartbeats before finally processing her question. He gestured behind him with his tail to a skinny young cat just struggling free of the crashing waves. Though he was drenched to the bone, the black tabby could see him spitting with fury. That was good. if he had enough energy to be angry, he would most likely be fine. As Panko caught up to the group, the black tabby waved the cats along into the undergrowth after Dustjump. She hesitated, scanning the shoreline for any more survivors, hoping to see a flash of ginger fur... but there was nothing. Her heart clenched painfully. She had hoped that Pearl would be among the survivors. The old molly had taught her how to be a proper ship’s cat, hunting the rats that threatened the grain stores on the Twoleg’s mighty vessel. Pearl had practically raised her. Losing her was like losing her own mother all over again. The tabby took a deep breath, hardening her heart. She would mourn Pearl in the morning. Right now, she needed to be amongst the living. Their survival was her responsibility now. She disappeared into the forest without another glance back.

Tidechaser narrowed his eyes against the pouring rain, gazing down impassively from his perch atop the cliff’s edge at the small, bedraggled group of cats pulling themselves free of the waves. He blinked slowly. The shore was not deserted by any means, but most of the cats living here kept to themselves, and that was just as Tidechaser liked it. But these strangers would bring change, as surely as the clouds heralded a coming storm. Tidechaser did not question the will of the tides. If they had brought these cats safely to shore, then he would accept their presence. He knew that his only choice would be to ride the wave of change alongside them, or allow it to swallow him up. If they survived the night. He curled his tail over his paws and watched their procession into the shelter of the forest. He could go to them now, offer them help and shelter. But he would not. it made no difference to him whether they lived or died. This was their trial to endure, set out for them by the ever restless ocean. He would go to them tomorrow, if they still lived. If. As they disappeared into the thick foliage, Tidechaser turned away from the shoreline. There was no reason for him to sit out in the storm any longer. He retreated to his den amongst the rocks to wait out the rest of this night of chaos.

#warrior cats #warrior cats oc #warriors #warriorcats #clangen #turtleclan #moon 0 #storytelling #art #Tidechaser #Dustjump #Shellstar

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taleofturtleclan · 7 months

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MOON 9

“You asked me about the stories I knew, once.”

Tidechaser’s words were so abrupt that Dustjump nearly leapt out of her skin. As she’d gotten to know the tom better, Dustjump had realized he didn’t really mean to be cold or unsettling, but by the tides, he was bad at starting conversations.

They’d been walking in silence through the forest, checking under bushes and in rocky crevices to see if any herbs had survived the first chill of leafbare. Anything to help Foam and Brokenmast. The first three spots they’d checked had yielded nothing. Neither of them had wanted to admit this was a hopeless endeavor, but it was hard to find anything to say without circling back to that topic, so they hadn’t said anything at all. Until Tidechaser had dropped this on her.

“What?” Dustjump said absently, her thoughts still wrapped up in the conditions of her two patients.

“The story I told Brokenmast in your den. You seemed interested in it, and you asked me if I believed in that and the other stories I knew,” Tidechaser clarified.

“I suppose I did.” It was a noncommittal answer, but Dustjump wanted Tidechaser to get to the point already.

“I thought you might want to hear another one. It might… take your mind off of things.” He added, with all the delicacy of a falling tree.

“I suppose,” Dustjump sighed. Tidechaser’s stories had seemed so important to her all those moons ago. She’d been so sure that they were connected to her dream of Pearl, somehow. But that had been before she’d had real problems to worry about, like Foam’s greencough and the possibility it might spread to Brokenmast. Now it all seemed so… kit-like. Thinking that Pearl’s spirit had been trying to speak with her. Since that night, Dustjump had been back to the still, starry sea in her dreams, but Pearl had not been there. She wondered if she had missed some sort of chance, or if it had ever meant anything at all in the first place. She forced herself to abandon these useless thoughts, and listen to the tale that Tidechaser was beginning to weave.

“Once upon a time, on these very beaches, lived two brothers by the names of Kai and Hoku. Kai was the older of the two, and Hoku the younger. Hoku was always getting himself into trouble, and Kai was constantly getting him out of it. The brothers had lost their mother just after Hoku had been born, so Kai had raised him alone, and his young brother had become his entire world. Every morning, Kai and Hoku fished the tidepools for their breakfast while the water was low, Kai making sure that they left well before the tide started to come in. One day, Hoku woke before his older brother. Kai had spent much of the previous night looking for his troublesome sibling, who had gotten stuck up a tree. Feeling guilty for the trouble he always caused his brother, Hoku resolved to hunt the tidepools alone, so that when Kai woke, he would have a meal waiting for him. Hoku set out, his spirits high, but when he reached the tidepools, he found that the fish were much harder to catch alone. Usually, one brother would wait on the edge of the pool while the other swam in the water to scare the fish towards him. Alone, the fish evaded Hoku with ease, and he grew frustrated and stubborn. The sun had risen higher into the sky, and Hoku knew that the tide was already starting to come in, but he was certain that he could still make a catch before high tide hit. ‘Surely if I try for a short while longer I will catch a fish, and Kai will be proud of my skill,’ he reasoned to himself. Hoku dove and dove again and again, and each time came up empty pawed. Finally, he found a fish with an injured fin, fat and slow, and he was able to grasp it in his jaws. But just as his head broke the surface, Hoku saw a huge wave cresting over the edge of the tidepool. In his eagerness to make a catch, he had lost track of the time, and high tide had arrived without him noticing. Hoku tried to swim for shore, but the wave caught him up, dashing him against the rocks and washing him out to sea.

When Hoku awoke, he found himself on the shore, cold but free from pain. Embarrassed, with his tail low, he headed back to the den he shared with Kai to explain his most recent accident to his older brother. When he arrived, Kai was just beginning to wake. ‘Kai, my brother, I am ashamed, I tried to catch a fish for you to eat, but I was caught in the tide and washed up on the shore,’ Hoku lamented. Kai did not respond to his words, and Hoku grew angry. ‘Kai, my brother, I know I am younger and weaker than you, but I only wanted to help. You should not ignore me so.’ Kai did not answer.

As Hoku opened his mouth to yowl angry words at his brother again, Kai finally spoke: ‘I wonder where my brother Hoku has gone, and what manner of trouble he has found himself in this time.’ Hoku felt a prickle of fear, but pushed it away with his anger. He leapt in front of his brother, back arched, fur fluffed.

‘Kai, this joke does not amuse me! Do not pretend you do not see me when I stand before you in our den!’

‘I will search for my brother Hoku, and when I find him we will hunt land prey together. The sea is too rough to fish today.’ With that, Kai stepped forward, passing through Hoku’s form as if he was not there at all. It was then that Hoku knew that he had joined the Realm of Stars, never to touch the land of the living again.

All through the day, Hoku watched as Kai searched for him, calling his name again and again. He did not eat, he did not rest, not even when the sun fell below the horizon and day passed into night. When the sun rose again in the morning, Hoku began to fear. Kai still had not slept or eaten, single minded in his search to find his young brother. ‘Kai, my brother, you must eat and sleep, for you shall never find me, I am gone,’ Hoku pleaded, but Kai could not hear him. As the sun rose high into the sky, Hoku could not bear to watch any longer. He parted from his brother and dove beneath the waves to seek out the creatures of the ocean, for since they do not live upon the soil, they are not bound by the laws of the land of the living. Hoku first sought out a Deepest One to answer his plea: ‘O great Deepest One, you are wise and mighty and have been known to help mortals, will you please carry a message to my brother Kai, to tell him that I am dead and that he must stop searching for me so he may eat and sleep?’

The Deepest One responded: ‘Little Landbound one, I am sympathetic to your plight, but my body is too large to come close to shore safely, I can not carry your message.’

Hoku thanked the Deepest One anyways, and sought out a smaller creature: ‘O swift Fish, you are small and can swim close to shore, will you carry a message to my brother?’

The Fish responded: ‘Cat-creature, you and your brother hunted my kin for your meals, if I carry your message your brother will surely feed on me, I will not help you.’

Hoku was disappointed, but sought out a creature that he had never hunted: ‘O great Fanged One, you do not fear my kind, will you carry a message to my brother?’

The Fanged One responded: ‘Fur-beast, I am a great and mighty predator, all who swim the ocean tremble before me, what reason have I to concern myself with your messages?’

Hoku knew he would not convince the Fanged One, and left. He thought to himself about the creatures he had asked for help, and their reasons for refusing. He needed a creature that was not too large, was not hunted by cats, and was not a predator. Hoku thought and thought, and finally found the answer. He sought out his final candidate, and asked him: ‘O most ancient Green Turtle, you have no reason to fear a cat’s claws, you can travel to land as you please, and you do not concern yourself with hunting prey, will you carry a message to my brother?’

The Turtle responded: ‘Little cat, you have given me no reason to hate you. You and your brother have not hunted my children, and my life is long. I will carry your message.’

Thrilled, Hoku asked the Turtle to tell his brother that he had gone to the Realm of the Stars, and that he must eat and sleep. The Turtle set out, and Hoku waited a full turn of the sun before she returned. Eager, he asked her: ‘Might Turtle, did my brother receive the message? Is he eating and sleeping again?’

The Turtle responded: ‘Little cat, I shared your message with your brother, and he did eat and sleep, but he mourns deeply for you and blames himself for your death.’

Hoku was taken aback by this news. ‘My death was no fault of his, for he always told me to return from the Tidepools before high tide, it is I who did not listen. Kind Turtle, will you bring my brother this message?’

The Turtle agreed, and Hoku waited another turn of the sun for her return. When she arrived, he asked her: ‘Dear Turtle, is my brother’s grief soothed? Has he ceased blaming himself for my death?’

The Turtle responded: ‘Little cat, I shared your message with your brother, and he no longer blames himself, but he is saddened that he will never see you again. Caring for you was his life’s purpose, and he is lost now that you are gone.’

‘This will not do!’ he cried. ‘I wish for him to find a new purpose, for his life is his own, and he shall see me again when he joins me in the Realm of Stars. Wise Turtle, will you bring my brother this message?’

The Turtle sighed, for she had carried two messages already. Still, she responded: ‘Little cat, I will bring your brother this last message, but after that, if you wish to speak with him, you must do so yourself, for I must find a beach to lay my eggs.’

Hoku understood her reasoning, but not her advice. ‘Benevolent Turtle, what do you mean? I cannot speak to my brother, I have tried and my voice no longer reaches his ears, for I have left the Land of the Living, and my breath no longer stirs the air.’

The Turtle blinked her deep eyes at him. ‘The way of speaking with the Land of the Living is a secret of the sea creatures, but I will share it with you, for I can tell your love for your brother is true. You have stars in your fur, do you not?’

Hoku looked down at his pelt and saw that it was true.

‘The light of your stars can reflect on the water. When the sun is high they cannot be seen. But if you wait for night and stand above the water, their light will reflect in the ocean. In this way, us Turtles guide our children to the ocean after their first hatching, even if we are long gone. For you, if your brother sees the reflection of your stars and truly believes with all his heart that you are there, then your worlds will meet and you may speak for a time.’

Hoku followed the Turtle’s instructions, and the Turtle went to find Kai to give him the knowledge she had shared with his brother. When night fell, Hoku stood above the Tidepool where he had drowned, ruffling the stars in his pelt. Kai peered down into the water, and with a gasp, Hoku’s image appeared to him. ‘Kai, my brother, do you truly see me?’

‘Hoku, I see you, I hear you, and my heart overflows. At last, we are reunited!’

The two brothers felt joy beyond compare at their reunion, and they talked for a time of everything that had happened since Hoku's passing. But as light began to fill the sky, they knew their exchange must end, at least until another night bright with stars.

The Turtle, who had been watching the exchange, dipped her head, sensing things were coming to a close. ‘My work here is done, and now I must go to find a beach to lay my eggs.’

The brothers turned to her as one, and Kai spoke: ‘Esteemed Turtle, this gift you have given to us is beyond compare. We can never repay it, but we would give you a small gift in return: lay your eggs here, upon my beach, and I will watch over your nest until they hatch, and guard their way as they seek the ocean.’

For the first time, the Turtle showed true joy. ‘You say that you can not repay me, but many of my children are taken each year as they seek the sea. The lights of the Twolegs distract them, and many hungry beasts prey upon their fragile bodies. If you would guard them, you would repay your debt and more. As thanks, I offer you this: if ever you or your descendents are lost on the way to the Realm of Stars, me and my kin will seek you out and guide you on your way, as you have offered to do for my children.’

And so it was that Kai and his descendants became the first Star Seekers, protecting the Turtles who helped him reunite with his lost brother,” Tidechaser concluded.

Dustjump was speechless. What Tidechaser had described… it was almost exactly like her dream of Pearl. Had she been unable to hear her old friend simply because she did not believe that she could really be there? Could it be that simple? Her mouth felt dry, and she paused to lap at a puddle, wetting her tongue. “How… how true is that story?” she breathed.

Tidechaser shrugged. “I’m not sure. The brothers’ hunting technique, though, it's the one most cats along the shore use today.”

It was true. When Tidechaser had taught them all how to fish the tidepools, that had been the method he’d focused on. “And… and the rest of it?”

“Who can say?” Tidechaser cocked his head. “And why do you want to know?” He’d trusted her by sharing this story with her. Trusted that she would treat it with respect. He deserved the same sort of trust from her end. Give and take, just like the ebb and flow of the tides themselves. He’d never ask for that trust outright–Tidechaser was direct in some ways, circumspect in others. But she’d learned that flowing with him rather than trying to batter down his walls got the best results moons ago. She took a deep breath. “A while back, I had this dream…”

A/N: Whew, this was a long one! Fun fact, baby sea turtles do actually find their way to the ocean for the first time by following the reflection of light, particularly starlight/moonlight, off the water--its why human lights can be such a problem for them, and why many beach communities have strict lighting ordinances around hatching season. Anyways, I took that piece of real world inspiration and thought about how turtles that follow starlight might appear to cats that worship the stars, and this story took shape!

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #tidechaser #dustjump #Moon 9 #TurtleClan lore and legends

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taleofturtleclan · 7 months

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MOON 8

“I’m going to take this back,” Splash meowed, nudging the cold body of the mojarra with his paw. Sand looked up from the tidepool they’d been fishing, his gentle green eyes meeting Splash’s.

“Do you want company?” he murmured.

“Nah,” Splash meowed, “Dustjump probably won’t want more than one cat coming into the den just now.” His tone was dismissive, but he couldn’t deny the little shiver of delight that he felt at Sand’s offer. He’d never thought it was fair, how a tom only a pawful of moons older than he was got to boss him around like he was Shell’s First Mate aboard a ship, but now that Splash had been rightfully acknowledged as an adult, things were… easier. It had turned out Sand wasn’t too much of a beetle brain after all.

Thoughts of Sand faded as Splash made his way back to camp, the salty flesh of the mojarra causing his mouth to water. He hadn’t seen Dustjump emerge from her den in days to do anything other than eat and make dirt. It was worrying. He knew the old bag of bones was mated to her duties, but she was going to burn herself out at this rate.

“I said no cat other than me is to come in here!” Dustjump snapped as Splash sauntered into her den. He didn’t take it personally, she was under a lot of stress.

“Relax Dusty,” he meowed as he set down the fish. “I brought dinner. That way, you don’t even have to leave your den to get fresh-kill tonight.”

“I’m not hungry,” she growled.

“Really? Because I haven’t seen you eat since last night. You won’t help anyone if you wither away any more than you already have.”

“Still a nasty little brat,” she grumbled, but the bite was gone from her mew. That was good.

Splash settled down beside the old molly while she scarfed down the fish in a few quick gulps. He never would have expected that he could come to love this high-strung old cat, but life was full of surprises.

“How are you?” he asked gently. “And before you say you’re fine, remember that you told me lying about your health does no cat any good.”

“I’m…I’m alright. Not great, but alright.” She sighed.

“And how are they?”

“Foam is… the same. He’s not getting better or worse. Brokenmast’s progress has slowed a little since I don’t have as much time to spend helping him, but he’s avoided the sickness so far.”

“Then it sounds like you’re doing the best that any cat could,” Splash meowed.

“It’s not enough,” Dustjump growled.

“It will be,” Splash said firmly. “You’ll see.”

Dustjump made no reply, but leaned against Splash’s shoulder, sharing his warmth.

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #dustjump #splashstone #moon 8

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taleofturtleclan · 8 months

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MOON 5

“And can you extend and retract your claws for me?” Dustjump watched intently as Brokenmast screwed up his face in concentration, toes trembling with effort as he tried to unsheathe his claws. For a moment nothing happened, but then the golden tom’s feet jerked, and his claws shot out for just a moment before disappearing back into their sheathes.

“Excellent!” Dustjump exclaimed, her flicking back and forth with excitement.

The spotted tom collapsed back into his nest, panting with the strain. His eyes shone with pride, but there was a shadow of fear that never quite left his gaze. “That was hard,” he gasped. “Before my accident, I didn’t even need to think about unsheathing my claws. I could just… do it. Will I really be able to walk again one day?”

“I can’t promise anything,” Dustjump warned gently, “but you are regaining mobility. Just a few days ago, you couldn’t unsheathe your claws at all. I suspect your mobility will continue to improve for quite some time. Whether you’re able to get all the way to walking again, well, that’s in the paws of fate.”

“Your future is carried on Change’s wind,” a new voice, deep and smooth, rang out from the entrance of Dustjump’s den, but she did not jump. Tidechaser had come for another visit. Dustjump turned away from Brokenmast, trying to hide her smile. The big silver tom had been visiting Brokenmast in her den every day for the last quarter moon. He padded quietly into the den, coming to sit beside Brokenmast.

“Tidechaser,” Brokenmast greeted warmly, straining up to touch noses with the new arrival. Tidechaser shuffled his paws at the unexpected contact, but did not look displeased by it. Dustjump slid around one of the jagged boulders in the corner of her den to give the two toms some space, and to count out her remaining supplies in the herb store.

“What were you saying?” Brokenmast’s voice still reached her easily behind the boulder, but, well, if they hadn’t wanted her to listen, Dustjump supposed they would have whispered.

“That your future is carried on Change’s wind. It’s an old saying amongst the loners around here. The tale must be as old as the beach itself,” Tidechaser replied.

“A story?” Brokenmast’s voice rose eagerly. “From you, Tidechaser? I’d love to hear it, if you’ll share.”

“I’m not much of a storyteller,” Tidechaser admitted, “but I’ll share it with you all the same, if you’d like.”

There was a brief pause before Tidechaser continued. “My mother always told me that once, all cats knew the way their lives would play out. The winds of Fate pushed and pulled the tides, constant and reliable. Cats would watch the waves, and could read their futures clearly in the push and pull of the ocean. Every cat knew each moment of their life before it happened. Who their mates would be, how many kits they would have, even the day they would die. But one cat, a tom whose name is long forgotten, despised how predictable life was. There was no joy, no sense of adventure for anyone. Because every cat knew how their lives would go, no cat had any freedom. Determined to change this, the tom sought the Deepest Ones, ancient beings that live beneath the waves,” Tidechaser paused here, and Dustjump found her ears straining to hear the tom’s next words.

“I don’t remember exactly how the next part went, only that it was difficult for the tom to convince the Deepest Ones to grant his wish. Eventually, though, the tom found a Deepest One who had grown bored of life beneath the waves, and yearned to walk among the creatures of the land. In this, the tom found an opportunity. He offered to give up his body to this Deepest One, granting the creature’s wish in exchange for it’s power and immortality. The bargain was struck, and when the tom’s body emerged from the waves, he was no longer the one inhabiting it– instead, his soul bounded across the waves, rippling the water and carrying a new wind behind it. The tom began to run, and the wind in his wake battered against the winds of Fate, making them swirl and shift in new ways. From that day on, cats could no longer read their futures clearly in the waves, and all that had been foreseen was now subject to change. Some cursed the tom for that, for disrupting the bountiful futures they had seen laid out before them, but others thanked him– queens who had seen their kits' deaths in the tides suddenly found new hope, and cats who had been deathly ill found themselves with a chance to recover. Eventually, the tom’s original name was lost to time, and he became known only as Change. And so, when fate seems grim, remember that Change and his disruptive winds are out there, dashing about, stirring each cat’s life so that no future is inescapable,” Tidechaser finally fell silent.

“You sell yourself short, Tidechaser,” Brokenmast sounded breathless. “You’re a great storyteller! Do you have any more?” he sounded eager.

“Many,” Tidechaser purred. “Stories of cursed creatures that lure cats to their graves on stormy nights, stories of birds that could speak to cats, even stories of spirits sending messages through the reflection of starlight off the water,” Dustjump froze, her blood running cold, her paws beginning to shake. “But none for today,” Tidechaser finished casually. “You need to eat, and I know you won’t do it if I’m filling your head with old shorecat legends…”

Dustjump didn’t listen to the rest of their conversation. Her mind was filled with memories from her strange dream of Pearl, of seeing her reflection in the starlit water though no cat was there. It would be foolish to think any of that had been real. When a cat died, they were gone for good. Her dream had simply been the result of her missing the life she’d had before. Hadn’t it? Despite her best efforts, Dustjump couldn’t quiet her racing thoughts.

“Tidechaser,” she meowed, poking her head around the boulder where she’d been sorting herbs. “I need more dandelion, and you know the jungle better than I do. Would you accompany me?” It wasn’t a complete lie. Tidechaser did know the territory better than any of them, never mind that Dustjump had memorized where all the best patches of common herbs were moons ago.

“Of course,” Dustjump thought she heard a note of satisfaction in his reply, but she didn’t dwell on it.

“We’ll go now,” she said brusquely, brushing past him on her way out of the den. “And do make sure you get something to eat, Brokenmast. I’ll be checking with Shell to make sure you did.” Dustjump didn’t pay attention to her patient’s mumbled reply, he might complain about it, but she knew he’d do what she asked. Right now, her mind was occupied with the image of Pearl, wreathed in Starlight.

Out in the jungle, Dustjump allowed her pace to slow while she pondered how to broach this subject with Tidechaser. Just because he’d been sharing old myths from the area didn’t mean he actually believed them. Would he think she was crazy if she told him about her dream? Or would he have an answer for her?

Finally, she worked up the courage to speak. “That story you were telling Brokenmast,” she began hesitantly, “do you think it’s true?”

Tidechaser cocked his head thoughtfully. “I think that there are many things beyond the understanding of mortal cats,” he said finally. “I think that there are powers greater than us, that push and pull on our futures in ways we will never truly understand. I don’t know if there’s really a spirit called Change running around out there, shifting our fates with his winds, but I think its a good way to understand things that would otherwise seem inexplicable. So I suppose, in that sense, I do think the story is true.” His words were slow and measured.

Dustjump licked her lips. “A-and the other stories you mentioned? Do you believe in those as well?”

“Some of them,” Tidechaser meowed. “Why do you want to know?”

What was she doing? She couldn’t tell him that she thought she’d seen a spirit cat’s reflection on the water in her dreams. He hadn’t said outright that he believed any of the stories at face value. What if he thought she was raving mad?

“No reason,” the lie tasted bitter on her tongue. “I’m… curious about you.” That was true enough, at least. “You’ve lived with us for moons now, but I feel like I hardly know you. You’ve never really told us anything about yourself.”

“There was no reason to,” Tidechaser meowed coldly.

“I’m not trying to pry,” Dustjump said gently, pushing away thoughts of her strange dream. “I know better than most cats that the past can be precious. I don’t blame you for keeping some things to yourself. But, well, today in my den, that was the first time I really felt like I was seeing beyond the mysterious stranger. Is there… anything that you would feel comfortable sharing with me?”

Tidechaser relaxed visibly. “Well… I was born on the cliffs above the beach, on a wet and windy day. I had two littermates, and…”

AN: We are almost done with Moon 5 I promise

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #tidechaser #dustjump #brokenmast #art #moon 5 #turtleclan lore and Legends

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taleofturtleclan · 1 year

Text

MOON 0

Dustjump awoke, cold and sore, long before the other survivors. Her sleep had been poor despite her exhaustion. She could not seem to escape the awful sounds of her twolegs wailing, struggling as the waves pulled them under. She would have helped them if she could. She had wanted to help. But they were too heavy, and she too small. Perhaps they had made it to shore after her?

Dustjump slid out of the hollow the cats had sheltered in, careful not to wake her companions. If they were able to rest, then they should. She was sure that last night was the worst experience any of them had ever endured.

Dustjump padded along the damp shoreline, her jaws spread to search for a trace of scent on the breeze. It was no use. The smell of fish and salt overwhelmed everything. She lashed her tail in annoyance. Her eyes would have to do, she supposed.

Dustjump wasn’t sure how far she walked before she decided to give up and turn back, but by the time she returned to the wreck, the sun was well over the horizon line. No hope of slipping back into their makeshift camp unnoticed now. As she made her way over the dunes, a flash of color caught her eye. Her heart rose and then plummeted. Caught up against a rock was a scrap of bright fabric, torn and crusted with salt. She knew that fabric. It had been part of the pelt the old female twoleg had been wearing when the ship went down. She could not help the wail that escaped her jaws as she rushed over to the scrap. She buried her face in it, searching for any trace of her twoleg’s scent. Nothing but the smell of the cruel ocean.

Dustjump remained there, her face buried in the scrap, until a warm pelt brushed against her own. She looked up into the concerned face of Shale. The black tabby molly had become a close friend over the course of their voyage, spending most of her time basking in the sun with Dustjump when she was not hunting rats on the ship. Dustjump was grateful for the comfort of her presence now, in this time of loss. At least she still had a friend.

The muted sound of paws slipping on sand made her turn her head. The other survivors, save for the youngest kit, were making their way down a steep dune to her. Jasper, the skinny cream and white tom, was the first to reach her. “We were worried,” he mewed, “when we woke and you were gone. We followed your scent trail to the shore, but since there was no fear-scent or blood, we decided to wait until you came back. Did you... find anyone else?” His tone was bleak, despite the hopeful words. Dustjump simply shook her head. “I didn’t think so,” Jasper whispered sadly.

The cats sat in silence for some time. Finally, Marty, the ginger tom kit, broke the quiet. “What happens now?” he mewed, trying to hide the tremor in his voice. “Where do we go?” The cats exchanged uncertain glances, shifting uncomfortably before eventually turning their attention to Shale. She had acquitted herself well last night, and it was clear that the others looked to her as the de-facto leader. Dustjump was fine with that. She wouldn’t have wanted that job even if she wasn’t grieving.

Shale drew herself up, trying to project confidence. “Go...” she murmured, almost to herself. “I’m not sure. We could try and find new twolegs. Try to go back to the way we were before, somehow.”

“And forget what happened last night? Pretend like it never happened?” Panko hissed. His friend Algernon swept his tail over his spine, smoothing down spiked fur. “Easy, Pan,” he murmured, “no cat will ever forget what happened last night, what we lost.” He turned to the rest of the group. “But he does have a point. Can we really just... move on?”

No cat spoke.

“Then we stay together,” Shale meowed. “Perhaps other cats washed up further along the beach. If we stay near here, maybe we’ll run into them. Or perhaps some of our twolegs survived. They could come looking for us. Either way, it seems that remaining here is the best course of action. Are we... all agreed?” One by one, the survivors nodded their heads. Silence fell upon the group once more. This time, Jasper was the one to break it. “I... have an idea,” he mewed hesitantly. “Maybe its silly but... I feel like so much has changed in just this last day. I don’t... feel like the same cat anymore. And I-I don’t want the same name. It feels... wrong. I’d like to be called Sand, from now on.”

Sand’s proclamation stirred the survivors. “I want to be Current, then,” Marty piped up. “I’m not the same either.” Privately, Dustjump thought the little tom kit didn’t really understand Sand’s reasoning and was mostly interested in having a new, fun name, but she held her tongue.

“It does feel right, to begin our new lives with new names,” Shale meowed. “I’d like to be called Shell.”

“Call me Foam, from now on,” Algernon piped up.

“Splash,” Panko muttered.

The survivors turned to look at Dustjump, and she felt the fur along her spine prickle. “I’ll keep my name,” she said firmly. She didn’t want to be anyone other than Dustjump. Perhaps her life had changed, but that didn’t mean she would just leave behind everything she was before. Dustjump had always been her name, and it always would be. She buried her nose in the salty scrap of fabric again, mourning all that had been lost.

One by one, the survivors padded off, to hunt, or to rest, or to care for the tiny kit they had saved from the waves. Finally it was just Dustjump and Shale--Shell, now, she supposed. Shell pressed close against her. “I’m so sorry, Dustjump,” she mewed. “I’d give anything to take your pain away.” Dustjump leaned against her friend, taking comfort in the warmth of her pelt against hers.

The sun was high in the sky when Dustjump was startled awake by movement at her side. She hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep, but Shell’s tensing muscles and prickling fur brought her guard up instantly. Dustjump opened her jaws to taste the air. A foreign tom-scent hit the roof of her mouth. Not one of the survivors, and not one of the cats that had been on the ship. This was someone entirely new.

A huge, silver tom with odd spots padded out from the dune grass, his expression neutral. Dustjump slid her claws out, preparing for trouble, but the newcomer’s fur was flat, his posture relaxed.

“Peace, strangers,” he meowed in a lilting accent. “I mean you no harm. I saw the wreck, and thought I would come search for survivors. You can call me Tidechaser.”

#warriors #warrior cats #warrior cats oc #warriorcats #clangen #clan gen #clan generator #Moon 0 #TurtleClan #Shellstar #Dustjump #Tidechaser

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taleofturtleclan · 9 months

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MOON 5

Dustjump jerked awake, her fur prickling. She’d been dreaming of hooking one of those fat fish she’d seen in the tidepools the other day. She hadn’t thought she would grow to like fish, when they’d all started living here, but now she could scarcely imagine a better flavor.

She supposed every cat changed, even her. That frightened her, a little. She wanted so badly to be the same cat that her twolegs had brought with them on to the ship, to hold on to that life, that connection to them, to all of the friends she had made and then lost on that terrible night. And yet, she wasn’t sure it was possible any more. Try as she might not to leave the past behind, the world kept moving forward. The cats around her all seemed so eager to embrace this new life they were building, and though she had been reluctant at first, she could feel herself following them, pawstep by pawstep, into the future. She shook her head, trying to clear away the troubling thoughts. She’d woken up for a reason. Had Brokenmast called for her? The tom was in better spirits than when she had found him, but he’d been developing some concerning nest sores that were causing him discomfort. She blinked open her eyes, and froze.

This wasn’t her den back at camp, no, Dustjump was standing atop the still ocean, starlight reflecting perfectly off the glassy surface. This was another dream, certainly, but something was strange. She’d never woken from one dream into another. She shifted her paws uneasily, looking around for the horizon, for anything to break up the endless stretch of glassy water. She found nothing but the sea, stretching out into eternity. She bent down to inspect the reflection of the stars in the water. Even when she had moved, their image never wavered. She narrowed her eyes, peering closer. Was one of the stars… moving?

Dustjump’s head jerked up, searching the sky for the moving star she thought she’d seen in the water. Nothing. She looked back down, convinced her eyes had been playing tricks on her, but no, one of the stars was definitely moving. It was drawing closer, taking shape into… a cat? Dustjump felt her fur prickle as the figure in the water resolved into the shining, shimmering figure of a cat she hadn’t seen in moons, a cat she knew was dead. She couldn’t help the gasp that followed.

“Pearl?”

The old ginger molly’s face split into a wide, calm smile. She dipped her head, and Dustjump could see her mouth moving, but no sound reached her ears.

“I-I can’t hear you,” Dustjump meowed desperately, “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

Pearl’s eyes clouded, and her face fell. She opened her mouth again, trying to speak more slowly and clearly, but it was no use. Dustjump leaned in, hoping that decreasing the distance between herself and the reflection would allow her to pick up some trace of sound. She drew closer and closer, until her ear fur brushed the glassy surface of the water.

Dustjump’s eyes snapped open, back in her own den, her chest heaving and her ear fur wet, like she really had dipped it in water. She lay in her nest, stunned and panting. What… what was that?

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #pearl #dustjump #moon 5

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taleofturtleclan · 8 months

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MOON 6

"Splash, I have trained you and watched you grow into a confident, competent young cat these past moons," yes, confident is certainly the right word, Shell thought wryly. The skinny tom sat up straight, head held high, chest puffed out with pride. And yet, Shell knew she had to give credit where credit was due. Splash’s skills had finally caught up to his opinion of himself. He had shown himself to be an incredible hunter with the right guidance, and despite his sometimes kit-like behavior, he had shown true dedication to their ragtag group of cats. “Do you promise to remain loyal to your campmates, come what may?”

“I do.” Splash’s reply was strong and clear.

“Then I grant you full status as an adult of our group. Splash, we honor you for your openness and skill. You may direct your own time and leave our camp whenever you wish, unless Sand or I have assigned you to other duties.”

The gathered cats murmured their congratulations to the young tom. Current gave him a playful cuff over the ear, and Sand bumped his head against the other cat’s shoulder, purring happily. When had they grown so close? Well, she supposed all of the cats here had become closer. This group was starting to feel more like a single unit than a collection of near-strangers brought together by chance and tragedy. Shell surveyed her cats from atop the Tallmast as they dispersed to their other duties, chatting happily. They had come far indeed…

Shell found her gaze drawn towards the pale, silvery pelt of Tidechaser as he disappeared into Dustjump’s den. Her eyes narrowed, and she couldn’t suppress a twinge of jealousy. He’d been visiting Dustjump’s den almost every day for the past moon. She was glad that he was finally taking an interest in the other cats of the group, but did that interest have to be focused on Dustjump? Did he have feelings for her? Shell found herself secretly hoping that wasn’t the case.

“What’s got you staring at my den like it’s hiding a whole pack of foxes?”

Shell jumped in surprise at Dustjump’s teasing voice, digging her claws deep into the wood of the Tallmast to steady herself.

“You nearly scared me out of my fur!” She growled in mock annoyance.

“Seems like you should be paying better attention to your surroundings,” Dustjump called back.

“And maybe both of you should stop yowling all the way across camp,” Tidechaser growled, sticking his head out of Dustjump’s den. “Brokenmast needs to rest.”

Shell felt her pelt prickle with embarrassment. Tidechaser was always so calm and aloof, they must’ve been making a lot of noise for him to snap at them like that. She slunk down the Tallmast to where Dustjump was waiting, her shame fading at the twinkle in her friend’s eyes. “Don’t mind him,” Dustjump purred, “if you ask me, I think Tidechaser is growing quite fond of Brokenmast.”

Shell blinked, trying not to let the relief show too clearly on her face. “He hasn’t been coming to see you, then?”

“Dustjump flicked her tail dismissively. “Well, he certainly sees me too, as it's my den, but Brokenmast is the cat he’s visiting for.”

“Good, that's… good.”

Dustjump cocked her head.

“Er, I mean, it's good that Brokenmast and Tidechaser are becoming friends. Both of them seemed kind of lonely before, and I’m glad they found each other,” Shell added quickly.

“I agree,” Dustjump purred. “Tidechaser has really kept Brokenmast’s spirits up. I think Brokenmast expected the healing to go more quickly. And speaking of Brokenmast, I need to gather some more reeds to keep his spine set straight.” The brown tabby dipped her head to Shell, turning towards the camp entrance.

“I could come with you,” Shell bounded after her, not wanting the conversation to end here. Dustjump had been so busy with Brokenmast lately that they’d barely seen each other despite sharing the same camp. “If you don’t mind,” Shell added hastily.

“I’d be delighted to have your company, Shell,” Dustjump’s eyes narrowed with pleasure.

“Then lead the way,” Shell purred.

“I know you said we’d be collecting reeds, but somehow I didn’t think we’d be -ugh- digging around in the mud like this,” Shell meowed, pulling a foot free from the mud sucking at her paws with each step. She didn’t mind wading around in the marshy water, but this mud was cold and slimy. She was never going to get it out of her claws.

“This is where the reeds like to grow,” Dustjump replied calmly. “Regretting your offer of help?”

“Never,” Shell purred, “can you imagine the looks on everyone else’s faces when we come back to camp covered in mud?”

“I’ll be the only one covered in mud,” Dustjump complained lightly. “You’re only going to have it on your paws. Your legs are long enough to keep your belly fur out of the muck.”

“Is that so?” Shell felt a wild, kit-like urge come over her. The mud, the time alone with Dustjump, all of it made her feel like a young cat again. “I guess I’ll just have to help you wash off!” Shell snarled playfully, flicking up water with her tail onto Dustjump’s flank. Dustjump froze, her fur dripping, and for a moment Shell feared she’d misread the moment, that Dustjump was going to snap at her and stalk off, until Dustjump flicked a pawful of water straight at Shell’s muzzle with a playful “mrow”.

“Oh I’m so going to get you for that,” Shell growled, flicking up more water with her soaked tail.

When the two cats returned to camp, soaking wet with a fine bundle of reeds in tow, neither of them could answer Sand’s question of what had happened to them without devolving into a fit of laughter.

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #dustjump #shellstar #splashpaw #moon 6 #warriors oc #art #my art

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