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residents-of-the-darkforest · 1 year

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Dark Forest Resident: Talonpaw

Aliases / Nicknames: Little One, My Dear, Lazy Furball, Kittypet Food

Gender: tom

Sexuality: pansexual, biromantic

Family: Nightwing (mother), Cedarheart (father), Smokepaw (brother), Brokenstar, Hopekit, Wishkit (cousins), Lavenderkit (aunt), Rowanclaw (uncle), Snowbird (maternal grandmother), Darkflower (paternal grandmother), Boulder (maternal grandfather), Scorchwind (paternal grandfather), Dawncloud, Russetfur (grandaunts), Raggedstar, Volewhisper, Mosspaw (granduncles), Featherstorm (great-grandmother), Hal (great-grandfather)

Other Relations: Rowanclaw (mentor)

Clan: Shadowclan

Rank: apprentice

Characteristics: short-tempered, grieves for his brother

Murder Motive: avenging his brother

Number of Victims: 0 (failed)

Number of Murders: 0 (failed)

Murder Method: getting kittypets to attack Russetfur (attempted)

Known Victims: Russetfur (attempted)

Victim Profile: his deputy

Cause of Death: wounds, killed by Jaques and Susan

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

We will never forget Smokepaw.

Liar.

Talonpaw was glad to be on safe ground once the ledge opened up, he could have bounced for joy if his paws weren’t so tired.

He rested with his father, Cedarheart, while they waited for the rest to catch up, namely his mother and brother. They had gotten separated as the Clans moved in single-file along the towering mountains. He scanned the faces as they came, alarmed when he only saw his mother, and his heart dropped at the distant, glassy look on her face.

She couldn’t even explain what had happened, she didn’t even seem to realize they were trying to talk to her.

Blackstar explained to them what had happened, how the ground just crumbled beneath Smokepaw’s feet and he fell before anyone could catch him.

Smokepaw was dead.

Like his mother--both of his parents, in fact, he spent the entire trip in an empty trance while everyone else chattered excitedly about what they thought their new home would look like. Smokepaw wouldn’t see it, so what did it matter?

As the haze slowly dissipated, anger began to fill him. The leader was with him. The deputy was with him! How could they have let Smokepaw just fall? The ground may have crumbled, but it’s not as if it can do that in a single second!

He remembered a moment that occurred before they left the forest, when those giant, awful monsters scared his brother. Blackstar had promised that he wouldn’t let him die.

One night, he couldn’t sleep, and decided to pace around the camp. He heard voices coming from beside the leader’s den, and, curious, decided to eavesdrop.

Russetfur was speaking with Oakfur, Smokepaw’s mentor. The first thing he heard was Oakfur hissing that he didn’t want a new apprentice. That truly caught Talonpaw’s attention.

Russetfur was insistent, saying how sorry she was that Smokepaw had passed, but that holding onto their grief feeds no mouths, and how he must move on. She went on to say how he would make an excellent mentor for Tallpoppy’s kits when they’re old enough, but at that point, Talonpaw could only hear the blood pounding in his ears.

He ran back to his nest, clawing up his moss as his whole body quivered with rage. They were replacing Smokepaw! Grief feeds no mouths. How could Russetfur be so heartless? She had been the one to let Smokepaw die!

That night, when he could finally sleep, a white warrior with a single, long scar visited him. The tom told him how horrible it is to lose your littermate, to lose the one cat you should have grown old with.

The tom called himself Snowtuft, and went on to say how he didn’t remember much of his life, but he was sure he had someone to him like Smokepaw was to Talonpaw.

Before Snowtuft could go on, another, brown tom came over and put a stop to their conversation, telling Snowtuft that he already paid for his crimes, and to not drag the young tom down with him. Talonpaw wasn’t sure what that meant, or why this new tom--Creaturefall--was now telling Talonpaw to dream of butterfly fields instead of “this place.”

It was the first time someone actually tried talking to Talonpaw about his brother.

Nightwing and Cedarheart shared his grief, of course, and for a while, they slept with Talonpaw in the now so empty apprentices’ den, but they would stop Talonpaw from speaking about the death, always saying that they weren’t ready to talk about it yet.

It felt as though Talonpaw’s own grief didn’t matter, only theirs.

More and more, Talonpaw felt that was true. Rowanclaw, understanding at first, grew frustrated with him when he wouldn’t put nearly as much effort into his training as he used to. It got to the point that Rowanclaw took him to Russetfur, who threatened to have his apprenticeship delayed if he didn’t get his act together.

She told him that he was the only apprentice in Shadowclan now, and how there wouldn’t be any more apprentices for at least six more moons. Talonpaw was angry enough at that, at having his loss blatantly ignored because training him was ‘so important’. What really set him off was when Russetfur told him to put his grief aside, and how laying in his nest all day won’t bring Smokepaw back.

It was everything in Talonpaw not to jump her then and there.

Snowtuft visited him again, only once. He was snarling, but not at Talonpaw. No, his anger was on his behalf. He went on about how Russetfur had no right to say such disgusting things, and how if he were Talonpaw, he would claw her apart for that.

Talonpaw found that he liked that thought, but pointed out that he couldn’t exactly win a fight against the deputy.

Snowtuft suggested that he should find someone that could.

Talonpaw remembered the two kittypets that had attacked Tawnypelt when she and her patrol first investigated the lake territories. She described them as quite muscular for cats that munched on twoleg slop all day. And there were two of them, definitley able to claw up Russetfur.

He would provoke them. Rowanclaw sent Talonpaw to hunt on his own, a punishment of sorts for all the ‘slacking off’ Talonpaw was doing, while his mentor got to rest in the sunlight back at camp.

Talonpaw took the opportunity. He travelled through until he found the right Twoleg den--Tawnypelt had described it so that they stay away. Then, he rolled around in the garden’s grass, spreading his Clan scent.

The kittypets would get mad. If they were as aggressive as they sounded, they wouldn’t take kindly to a stranger spreading their scent in their home. Surely, they would want to get back at them, and when patrols found kittypet scent crossing the border, Russetfur, as the deputy, would investigate. Then the kittypets would attack her.

He was back in his own territory, trying to catch something so that it seemed like he was always looking for prey, when cat scent hit his nose and he was attacked.

He managed to drag himself back to camp, but darkness was blotting his vision in increasing specks. The last thing he saw were the horrified faces of his mentor and parents.

Additional Information:

--Fungichomp arrived in the Dark Forest around this time. He was already furious that Starclan condemned Fishkit, Molekit, and Frostkit to the Place of No Stars with him, and when he saw Talonpaw arrive as well--without technically actually doing anything--he decided that the kits needed to be protected with more than what he could provide, and created the Daycare (possibly getting the name from Twolegs) (or he got it because ‘Day’ is the opposite of Dark and is what the kits should be expereincing, and they’re being taken care of, so maybe just a coincidence)

--So the Daycare was first created / first began construction during Twilight in the canon book series.

I was curious about the timeline with that (and other things), and when it was said to likely been made when the lake territories were formed, Smokepaw was chosen--then switched to Talonpaw, so that’s why he’s in the Dark Forest now!

I didn’t think he went to the DF before, it was just an idea created for the sake of the Daycare, but now I like it! What do you think?

--Russetfur strikes me as the ‘tough love’ character, so I wouldn’t put it past her to say these things.

--Snowtuft is still a tiny bit evil at this point. Maybe seeing the apprentice join the DF because of him is a start for him to want to change--but not quite yet.

--Cedarheart later dies in the Great Battle, aka the battle with the Dark Forest--the area one of his sons now resides. That’s some great angst!

(highlighted because this is probably the most important, ya know?)

--Would he be Brokenstar’s cousin? I’ve tried looking up what their relationship would be, and that’s the answer I keep getting, but it sounds wrong.

--Creaturefall and Fungichomp, Molekit, Fishkit, and Frostkit all belong to @wills-woodland-warriors

--Thanks to @starfalcon555 whose idea it was to have Talonpaw be the DF character due to his grief for his brother as well as the idea to have Snowtuft be a brief mentor.

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residents-of-the-darkforest · 1 year

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Rabbit Rhymes (short story)

“‘What do hawks sit on?’ Frog asked. ‘hawks sit on hot rocks!’”

“Ouch!” Honeykit piped in, giggling.

“Yes, ouch!” Fungichomp agreed with a purr, his gaze warm on the kit between his paws. “What animal do you think is next?”

Honeykit thought for a moment, her chin shifting to the side and her eyes looking to its corners. “Rabbit ‘cos they have big legs!”

“Rabbits have big legs?”

“Yeah!”

“Do they sit on something big?”

Honeykit nodded. “Uh-huh. They have big legs and they sit on big things because they have big legs.”

Fungichomp smiled as he searched in his mind for something that rhymes with ‘rabbit.’ “‘Hawks sit on hot rocks–yeouch!--and rabbits sit on....maggots!’”

“Not maggots!” Honeykit giggled.

“‘That doesn’t sound very comfortable,’ said the frog,” Fungichomp went on, “‘it’s not about being comfortable,’ said the mouse, ‘it’s about doing the right thing.’”

Honeykit shifted. Fungichomp waited until she was settled before continuing. “‘What do foxes sit on?’” He lowered his head. “What do you think foxes sit on?”

“It has to rhyme!” Honeykit pointed out enthusiastically.

“Yes, it has to rhyme,” Fungichomp agreed. “Can you think of what rhymes with ‘fox?’”

Honeykit tilted her head so high in thought, she was practically looking at the leaves in the trees above them. “Uhuhuh! Hawk!”

“You’re right, hawk and fox do rhyme.” Sort of. “Do you think foxes sit on hawks?”

“Hawks won’t like it!”

Fungichomp gasped. “You’re right again! You’re so smart. Do you want to pick something else for foxes to sit on?”

Honeykit nodded vigorously. Then she giggled triumphantly. “Phlox!”

“That’s a big word!” Fungichomp responded, genuinely surprised.

“Fadingstar saided it and I like it,” Honeykit explained.

“I like it too! Phlox! Phlox! Phlox!”

Honeykit laughed more fully, eyes narrowed in her joy. Fungichomp felt just as warm. Of all the tasks he had in the Daycare, taking care of kits one-on-one were by far his favourite of them all. They continued on until the story finished, Honeykit bursting out in laughter–again–at the ending.

Fungichomp waited until she was fully asleep, head flopped on his foreleg, then slowly stood up. Gently, he took her by the scruff and into the napping den, where she was placed onto her nest with only a wriggling toe of protest. Her fathers should be picking her up soon. Rookstorm had gotten into a tussle with Applefoot, and both toms had gotten sick from infected wounds–because of those, sickness follows cats here, too–and Aspenroot had to train his apprentice, so Kiteburn took their litter here until they could set things back in order.

Not for the first time, in fact, it happened every time he blinked at a kit, he was glad that he decided to make the Daycare–though he would forever be furious that he needed to. But before that anger could settle any deeper than a passing thought, Mellowkit rushed toward him. “I found a ant!” he announced loudly.

“Why don’t you show me?” Fungichomp suggested, and followed the little tom across the small clearing.

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

--A NICE story? Written by me? And not of the same characters I write about all the time? What is happening????

Lol yeah I got inspired because I’m working at a Daycare. I’m still just starting, so I don’t know how right the speech is (mainly for Fungi’s responses), but I think it’s pretty okay.

--Surely not all stories parents tell their kits are warnings. Some can just be goofy fun! This is a very slightly edited version of Frog On A Log.

--Fungi belongs to @wills-woodland-warriors

Honeykit/flower was named and designed by @starfalcon555 who also owns Rookstorm

Mellowkit/tooth belongs to @ambitiousauthor at this point in time, he only has a single mama, so she probably uses the Daycare often for support.

This would also make Mellowkit and Honeykit least five moons of the same age.

#dark tales #wc dark tales #dark forest tales #mellowkit #mellowtooth #mellowtooth story #honeykit #honeyflower #honeyflower story #fungichomp #fungichomp story #wc daycare #df daycare

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residents-of-the-darkforest · 5 months

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Lost and Found (short story)

“For the record, I didn’t steal them.”

Fungichomp couldn’t help but be skeptical of this, but he didn’t dare voice the concerns.

It was never a good day when Pumpkinpatch stopped by to visit.

The dark tom was snappish at best, abrasive at worse, and most kits ran and hid when he was around.

Well, apparently not all of them.

Two little balls of chocolate-tortoiseshell fluff huddled next to Punkin, one chirping curiously and the other batting at her sister’s limp tail.

“Are they-”

“Hell no, I don’t swing that way.”

“I was going to ask if they were dark kits or not.”

“Oh.” Punkin looked down at the little bundles, his callousness melting away like spring frost as he cooed and coerced the tiny kits to look up.

“There we go, nice and easy sweetie…” Punkin groomed the mobile kit and purred. “Oh there’s an eye! Thank you little one! That makes my job so much easier! Yes it does!”

He turned to Fungichomp with narrowed eyes.

“Yep, they’re dark kits. I’d say they were twins, but their markings are different.”

Fungichomp carefully resisted the urge to suggest that Punkin might make a good caregiver.

Historically, his suggestions that Punkin might be good at anything had not been well received.

Punkin scooped up the sluggish kit carefully, transferring her to a moss nest, and propping her up so breathing would be easier.

“She’ll need intensive caretaking. Probably for life.” Punkin grumbled as he settled down beside the nest. “I recommend frequent checking for nest sores, and, if you can manage it, at least a little work on getting her mobile per day.” He dangled his tail over the nest, cooing more encouragement as the less mobile kit batted at it.

“Do they have names?”

The dark tom paused, pulling the mobile kit close to his chest protectively.

“I’m calling this one Hiddenkit, because she was harder to find than her sister.”

Fungichomp dangled his own tail in front of Hiddenkit, stifling a yelp when tiny claws dug into his tail.

“She’s a little bruiser! What about her sister?”

Punkin shrugged. “I’ll let you decide that.”

“In that case, her new name is Pumpkinkit.”

Fungichomp could almost feel the tips of his whiskers withering at the look this earned him, but he didn’t budge.

“You did rescue them.”

He leaned over and risked a few quick licks to Punkin’s scruffy fur.

“They owe you their life, whether you like it or not.

“That doesn’t mean you have to name her after me!”

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

Pumpkinpatch story!

@wills-woodland-warriors

#submission #pumpkinpatch #fungichomp #pumpkinkit #hiddenkit #pumpkinkit story #hiddenkit story #pumpkinpatch story #fungichomp story #dark tales #dark forest tales #wc dark tales #daycare story df #I wonder how the kits will react to the family of Myrtlewing considering his relationship with Pumpkin #assuming of course Pumpkin stays in their lives

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residents-of-the-darkforest · 5 months

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Fungichomp entered the daycare, shocked to see every kitten behaving properly, some even taking naps! The nests had been cleaned, and there was none of the usual screaming.

He was about to ask what had caused this, but then he saw her.

Long, life-hard muscles stretched under a dappled fawn and cream coat, while nightmarish blue eyes with almost-red pupils held him captive.

“Bella May.” He gulped.

“What do I owe this pleasure to?”

The matriarch of the Wooden Teeth chuckled, grooming the nearest kit with a few strong licks.

“Thought I’d help out today. The little monsters need to learn manners at some point, yeah?”

He gulped. He knew every kit in the Dark Forest by heart. The kit Bella May was grooming was new to him. A tiny little tortoiseshell with oversized fangs and semi-familiar dappled legs.

“And, uh, who’s this?”

Bella May purred louder.

“Well y’ain’t gonna believe this, but my Lamb met someone! He just had his young’un, and I’m taking care of the little beastie.”

Fungichomp could feel his blood run cold. The last thing the forest needed was more of Myrtlewing’s kin. Least of all from the volatile Lamb, who, if rumors were to be believed, was even more cannibalistic than the rest of his immediate family.

Even so, it paid to be polite when dealing in the Dark Forest, so he did not in fact, wail his panic to the rest of the woods.

“What’s her name?” He leaned down, examining how the little mollie dozed on her grandmother’s forepaws.

“Gorse. Or Gorsekit if y’wanna be formal.”

“…Ok? Is she one of Web-“

The glare he got let him know, in no uncertain terms, how Bella May felt about that particular question.

“She kinda looks like Lamprey-“

Another glare had him backtracking as quickly as he could.

“Because of her legs! They’ve got dapples!”

“Hmph.” Bella-May nudged Gorsekit towards Fungichomp, and she toddled over on surprisingly steady little legs.

“Hallo.”

Her voice was tiny, barely a whisper.

“Gran-ma says that you’re… uh…” She turned to Bella-May, who merely licked one paw and shrugged.

Gorsekit turned back.

“Gran-ma says you’re a good cat. That true?”

Fungichomp gathered the little tortie into a nest, and groomed down her spiky fur the best he could.

“I like to think that I’m good.”

“That’s good t’know.” She yawned, and peeped open one almost yellow eye.

“If you weren’t good, I’d eat you.”

“Good to know?”

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residents-of-the-darkforest · 1 year

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Dark Forest Resident: Salviathaw

Aliases / Nicknames: The Kit That Shouldn’t Be, Dark Kit, Half-Darkling, Darkling

Gender: she-cat

Sexuality: homosexual, panromantic-polyromantic

Family: Sorrelmint (mother), Snowfringe (father), Brindlekit (sister), Mothshade (brother), unnamed unborn kits, Ravenberry (mate, formerly)

Other Relations: Needlefrost (mentor), Snowfringe (Dark Forest mentor), Rabbitpaw (apprentice)

Clan: Skyclan

Rank: warrior

Characteristics: half Dark-Kit

Murder Motive: angry that she was robbed of a normal life, believing there was no reason she shouldn’t kill, since she was going to end up in the Dark Forest anyway

Number of Victims: 15 (1 indirectly)

Number of Murders: 15 (1 indirectly)

Murder Method: clawing in a rage, having killed in a battle, throwing/pushing over a height, forced water intoxication, torturing, slitting throat, passing sickness

Known Victims: Sorrelmint, unnamed Shadowclan warrior, Shrewkit, Sandkit, Honeykit, Rabbitpaw, Palepaw, Pigeonpaw, Ravenberry, Cindersong, unborn kits, nameless rogues, the medicine cat

Victim Profile: her mother, her apprentice, her ex mate, cats who got to live the life she should have had, rogues who insulted her, cats suspicious of her, the medicine cat

Cause of Death: bleeding sickness

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

The first sign that things would go wrong should have been the complicated birth.

Brindlekit was dead before she was born, and barely looked developed, while Mosskit shrank away from the light outside the den as though it were something to be afraid of. His skin seemed to shrivel away with each passing day, until finally he died.

Salviakit thought that it was from his constricting skin finally strangling him.

But Salviakit didn’t stop seeing him.

Occasionally she would be in the nursery, where queens nursed their own kits and only occasionally watched over another mother’s. There, he was gone.

Occasionally she was in the Daycare, where a kind tom named Fungichomp and some others would collectively watch all of the kits when parents needed a break. That is where she would play with Mothkit.

Perhaps things could be easier if she could distinguish between these two realities, to be in one place and then move to another. Such was not the life she was given.

It wasn’t as easy as going to sleep and visiting her brother in the afterlife. For her, there was no telling when and where she could be. She could walk out of the camp to join her mentor for a training session, and on the other side she would walk into the play space in the Night Forest.

Needlefrost was initially angry at her tendency to, according to him, ‘zone out,’ but quickly grew concerned. Apparently, when she went to the Night Forest, it seemed to everyone that she were moving in a trance.

That is only one way her realities mix.

She could hold a conversation with two cats together, with neither aware the other was also with her.

See would see prey that was not there, which she learned when she bounced on a blackbird, only to have a confused Needlefrost explain that she held nothing.

Her denmate would ask if she wanted to hunt with him. She would respond that she wanted to sleep, and would then be surprised when she was told that in spite of the dark skies, it was day.

She would have to be extra careful with walking, never sure which trees--or anything really--was there and which weren’t.

Her social life took a hit as well.

Cats from her ‘normal life,’ such as her mentor and mother, wanted her to value Clan life above everything else. They were pleased when her fur was neat and well-groomed, when she trained with claws sheathed, when she spoke politely, and when she shared her prey with Clanmates.

Cats from her ‘Night Forest life’ such as Fungichomp, Snowfringe, and a number of others wanted her to value individuality above everything else. They were pleased when her fur was ungroomed, as apparently it meant she was focused on more important things. They encouraged training with unsheathed claws, and because it was usually for cats here to exchange insults as though they were simply sharing tongues, she picked up the habit as well. Never able to have food themselves, they encouraged her to eat as much as she could ‘while she still had the chance.’

Perhaps it would be easy to please both groups of cats if she could tell when she was with who, but alas, it seemed Starclan had condemned her to a life of suffering.

In spite of her many complications, she managed to find love when Ravenberry, a tom she had a crush on since apprenticeship admitted his feelings for her. They tried on numerous times to have kits, and when she finally became expecting, the medicine cat told her only a quarter-moon later that her kits had died in the womb.

Ravenberry put the blame on her, calling her selfish for trying to have kits with her health, and swiftly left her for another she-cat.

Then she found out how truly condemned she was.

Seeing how much she struggled, Sorrelmint pulled her to the side and admitted to the horrible truth--that her father was a warrior of the Place of No Stars.

The forest she always saw wasn’t the ‘Night Forest,’ as she had named it, but the Dark Forest, where murderers and other evil cats go.

It was where she would surely end up. After all, that is where Mossshade ended up, and where he was able to grow up in spite of being dead--Salviathaw had thought that old kits grow after death, something that a grieving mother was quick to yell at her for saying.

She would be sent to the decaying, bloody-aired forest for existing.

Her death, however horrible it may be, will follow her throughout eternity, existence never ending, hunger everlasting.

She was furious at this injustice, enraged at all misery it had caused her and all of the pain it was sure to bring.

It had caused the deaths of her unborn kits, not only robbing her of a normal life, but taking theirs as well.

And if she were going to be sent to the Place of No Stars anyways, well....

why not act on that frustration?

Her mother was first, killed in an outburst after Salviathaw was told the truth. She dragged her body to the border with Shadowclan, which later sparked a battle between them and Skyclan and caused the death of one warrior.

It was a Shadowclan warrior, so the war ended--one of Skyclan died, one of Shadowclan died, so they were even.

During the time of war, a queen gave birth to three beautiful kits, two she-kits and a tom. They were healthy, happy, given the life Salviathaw should have been granted.

So she killed them, tossing them one by one from the highest tree in the territory, and watching with glee as their tiny bodies smacked with hard thuds on each branch.

She was almost won over by their begging after the first was thrown over. “We want to live!” Well, so does she--but what was she given instead? So she threw the other two over with fresh vigor.

A moon later, Salviathaw was given an apprentice. Rabbitpaw.

What was the point in putting the effort of moon after moon training him if she were only going to suffer in the end? She had already spent nine moons in her own apprenticeship, needing it extended with all her complications.

She instructed him to climb down a steep ravine. Of course, he slipped and broke his spine. Salviathaw returned to camp, claiming that he got angry that she wanted him to gather moss instead of battle train, and ran off.

The Clan believed her, but Rabbitpaw’s brothers were confused, as that didn’t seem like Rabbitpaw. When cats were sent out to search, they went with her. They managed to find the cliff, looking over with horror at the twisted sight before them--then were shoved over before their staring could end.

The Clan mourned the deaths of the three, and it was assumed that Palepaw and Pigeonpaw fell trying to rescue their brother, who probably fell as well when not looking where he was going.

While some in the Dark Forest weren’t happy with her murders of those so young, many praised her new tendencies. At last, she knew which cats she wanted to please.

And please them, she would.

Ravenberry was an obvious choice.

“You should make him suffer for what he said to you.”

That, she did.

She listened to their advice, snapping his neck just as they had said so that he couldn’t move. She moved him so that he lay on his back, positioning his head between two rocks so that he couldn’t move that, either.

With a leaf, she gathered water, and poured that down his throat. He swallowed with difficulty, but the water kept coming. Ravenberry began to vomit, which he also had to swallow, being on his back and all. He began to shake violently, a complicated processes with his body’s stuck position. Finally, his suffering ended and he died.

Next came Cindersong, Ravenberry’s cousin, chirping along about how exciting she was to see her kits.

But Salviathaw didn’t get to see hers.

So when a restless Cindersong paced around the camp at night, Salviathaw offered to take her on a walk. When Cindersong was far enough from the camp, Salviathaw attacked. Her goal was to hurt Cindersong enough that her unborn kits died--if Cindersong herself died, they would just meet in Starclan, and she wanted to drag out the suffering.

Unfortunately, Cindersong’s fighting was desparate despite her heavy belly, and Salviathaw had no choice but to tear out her throat.

More moons passed without incidence, and she was growing restless. Then on a patrol, she and her Clanmates ran into a small gang of rogues, who laughed at their threats, claiming Clan cats weak. A few days later, when the urge returned, she went back to where they had met the rogues.

From there, she followed their scent trail, and an amazing sight greeted her--they had all quickly fallen sick! She was expecting a fight, but with them all moaning in pain in a pathetic pile, she could tear all of them apart without so much as a scratch.

She had fun with them. Of course she should take the opportunity to! She yanked on their ears, tore their throat with small slits deeper and deeper until they bled out.

She was so used to the scent of blood, a constant in the Dark Forest, which mingled around her, that she failed to notice that the cats here were already bleeding.

When she woke the next day, her vision was hazy with something red. Her Clanmates were alarmed, claiming that she was bleeding from her eyes as well as her ears, nose, and mouth.

Her last moons were spent writhing in pain in the medicine den and in a nest made for her in the Dark forest. At least she was able to take the medicine cat’s life as well with her illness.

Maybe when she was dead, the confusion of where she was would finally end, and she could start ‘living’ normally.

Additional Information:

--The first Half-Dark Kit!!

--The song you guys ended up choosing is Funhouse by Mothica! It can represent the disorientation of not knowing what is happening as well as the social and internal complications she had.

--Snowfringe was a warrior who died quickly and hated losing everything he should have had, such as a family, so wanted to try having one--a living, proper one. He came to regret that choice pretty soon.

--Fungichomp belongs to @wills-woodland-warriors

--Daycare designed by @ambitiousauthor

--Dark Forest cats typically give unusual (but still Warrior-possible names), which is why Sorrelmint named her ‘Salvia.’

Salvia is a type of plant (it can be blue, possibly representing her eyes, and also very ironically means a long life and good health).

--Now I will proceed to add 1 million tags because I am so so proud of this

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