Clayclan

"How many moons has it been?" inquired the former leader. "Since Blueclan fell? Since Beechclan even?" Resinstar sighed, wishing her had a better answer for Tawnymoon. "I don't know. We don't have any frame of reference since the ghosts don't seem to remember the end." Resinstar glanced at Claywhistle, hoping against all odds that the former Beechclan warrior might have recalled the downfall of his clan. All he received was an apologetic shrug. "I don't suppose you have any better understanding of The Fog?" He turned his attention to Moosetracks who squinted as if trying to remember. "Mine own guesseth is as valorous as yours. One heartbeat twast the timeth of Damp Air, the next the timeth of New Growth. And then th're w're clans." Resinstar made out about a third of what Moosetracks said, which was as expected. 

"I hope I'm not interrupting." Brightpool padded up to the gathered cats and spared Moosetracks a kind smile, which the tom returned. "Oh no, you're not interrupting anything." Resinstar managed to instill minimal bitterness in his mew. The constant dead ends were beginning to get to him. "That's good," Brightpool continued unphased, "Bronzekit wants you to put him to bed." "Of course." As Resinstar padded off to join Brightpool in the nursery he heard Moosetracks complain to the remaining Tawnymoon. "I wisheth Lupinekit wenteth to sleep so easily. That gent wakes me up at moonhigh to whineth and vex me."

As was now an established routine Resinstar slipped into the newly refurbished nursery with Brightpool. While small, the den of interwoven roots and brambles was enough for Bronzekit, and soon enough, Taffytuft. "So what story do you want today?" Resinstar asked Bronzekit, or rather the space which Brightpool had indicated was Bronzekit, gently. Brightpool stared at the spot for a few heartbeats, nodded once, and then translated. "The one about the tailless squirrel he says." "Of course." Resinstar couldn't help the smile that curled onto his muzzle. Bronzekit always wanted the story with the tailless squirrel. He suspected it was the only story that Claywhistle had told his kits when they were all still alive. Claywhistle couldn't confirm this theory but he still remembered the story more than well enough.

"It was many moons ago, when Asptail and Barkknot and I were still just Asppaw and Barkpaw and Claypaw. We had snuck out of camp, as naughty apprentices were apt to do. Rather, I snuck out of camp and dared Asppaw into following. Barkkpaw came along to try and talk us out of it. Beyond the Beechclan camp beach, we were surprised to find the forest had grown since that sunhigh. After a while of exploring this exciting, if a bit scary, world we realized we were lost. That's when, from above our head, a tailless squirrel appeared. You'll never find your way back! It taunted us, You'll die out here and me and the other squirrels will feast on you as you once did on us! Oh how upset Barkpaw became. All I could do was tell her we would be all night. You see, even I was a bit worried. But Asppaw wasn't. He was mad. And if you know my brother you know he can do anything when he's mad. He marched right up to the tree and shook the home of the tailless squirrel to and fro. When the tailless squirrel fell Barkpaw and I pinned it and made it tell us where our camp was. When the terrified squirrel did so it grew a tail and scampered off, mute as any other squirrel in the forest. The forest had shrunk back to it's normal sunhigh height and we found our way back easily."

Even though Resinstar had memorized most of Claywhistle's tale, he still let his friend tell it before he translated. He could tell Claywhistle treasured the time he spent with his son, even if it was indirect. The tom's teasing mew always grew soft and kind, almost awestruck, and he leaned in real close to where Bronzekit was supposedly sitting. Resinstar knew it hurt his friend that Bronzekit was under the impression that Resinstar was his father, no matter what the leader and Brightpool tried to do to dissuade him. 

The first time Bronzekit called Resinstar dad and he corrected the kit, he had grown silent and sullen, retreating into wherever ghosts went when they vanished. The next morning he returned safe and sound but the incident had scared all those involved enough to let the kit just imagine Resinstar as his father. "He's drifted off," Brightpool informed the pair after the story was done. That was their cue to head out. "Thanks for doing this," Claywhistle murmured to Resinstar as they left, still uncharacteristically soft. Resinstar was quick to reassure him. "It's no problem. I enjoy it- no kitten." He was relieved to watch a smile crawl it's way back onto Claywhistle's muzzle at the pun. "We have training next don't forget. Let's not sleep on it."

Resinstar had mewed a greeting to Taffytuft and Gustpond when he passed them by the nursery, but the pair were too involved in their lovestruck conversation to notice him. "You're really having kits?" Gustpond asked yet again. "Yes, like I've told you a thousand times," Taffytuft giggled. "Our kits?" "Of course! The first of many." Gustpond couldn't help but let out another happy sigh. Surrounded by friends and now with a love and kits on the way. Could a cat be happier? He knew of none. "I love you so much, you know that right?" "How could I forget? You tell me so often. Not that I mind." Taffytuft nuzzled into Gustpond, purring contentedly. "No matter how much I tell you-" Gustpond returned his mate's purr with his own, deeper, rumble. "-It'll never be enough."

On the exact opposite side of camp, Mottledfoot was experiencing a very different feeling- the restlessness that comes from unexpected affection. She felt as if she had a dozen bees trapped inside her chest. What was worse was that exactly what she had made fun of her mentor for was now happening to her. "You said you were going to show me, and I quote, 'the best climbing spot around'?" asked the voice that sent Mottledfoot's stomach twisting. Had she really said that? At least Gopherpaw didn't seem to mean it sarcastically. She sounded genuinely interested, as she had when Mottledfoot had first blurted out the offer. "Yes of course, just, uh, giving Flaxpool some advice." In truth it was Flaxpool who had been trying to give her charge some advice, but as a ghost who had never experienced instant attraction she wasn't of much help. "Just be yourself," the spectral shecat soothed, "and don't rush into anything. A relationship is nothing without a foundation of friendship." She looked wistful for a moment, surely thinking of her sister. "Right, well I'm glad that's cleared up Flaxpool. Come on Gopherpaw let's go." With a flick of her tail Mottledfoot beckoned Gopherpaw into the forest.

"So," Gopherpaw began awkwardly, "you grow up clan?" Moons spent traveling with only Ryepath for consistent company did not make the apprentice particularly well versed in small talk with any cat other than her grandmother. The established pattern of constantly rejecting various homes did nothing to encourage casual friendship either. "Don't make friends," Ryepath had told her time and time again, but after finding Clayclanthe older shecat had changed her tune. "Go train with Mottledfoot," she had encouraged, "she seems like a smart cat. They all do here. This might be our new home." Well Starclan forgive Gopherpaw for being a little skeptical.

"I did. I grew up in Aspenclan just to the east of here." Mottledfoot flicked her tail, nodding to indicate the direction she meant. "It collapsed I don't know how many moons ago. Time's a bit weird here." "Oh," Gopherpaw replied simply, amazed at how calmly Mottledfoot described the fall of her home. Even with all her bad memories of Prairieclan she wasn't sure how she'd react if she received news of it's destruction. Probably not well. "I'm sorry." The warrior hesitated a heartbeat and then shrugged. "Did you?" "I'm sorry?" "Did you grow up clan?" "Oh. Yes I did. But I left with Grainy when I was young- they didn't want my kind there." Gopherpaw couldn't help the bitterness of her mew upon recounting her leaving. The images of her mother's horror-stricken face, her grandfather's denouncement cut off swiftly by Ryepath's strike, they still haunted her. "That sucks," Mottledfoot echoed the previous unsaid sentiment. Gopherpaw laughed, "Yeah well it sounds like we've both gone through some bison scat." Mottledfoot's face twisted oddly as she contemplated the sentiment and for a moment Gopherpaw thought she had scared her off. "So it does," the warrior finally answered. "So it does."

Internally Mottledfoot was a tangle of emotions: anger at what she and Gopherpaw had suffered through, melancholy at remembering Aspenclan, even hope at the possibility of connection they had just shared. Externally she maintained a cool facade. "We're here. The best climbing tree in the forest." The drizzle that had been on and off for the past moon or so had left the great beech with a constant sheen of moisture. "Gustpond taught me how to climb in the midst of a snowstorm so this's like catching a deaf rabbit for me. Think you can keep up?" Mottledfoot's mew was all good-natured teasing and her grin was infectious. "My grandma was the best climber Prairieclan had ever seen. I'll beat you to the top," Gopherpaw challenged. "You wanna b-" but before Mottledfoot could even finish Gopherpaw had already launched herself onto the tree and she had to scramble to catch up, wasting precious breath laughing out "You cheat!"

Less than a moon ago Gopherpaw had given up hope of finding a permanent home, let alone a friend. They loved Ryepath, they really did, but they were a clan cat born and raised and they needed a clan to be happy. Not to mention a constant string of rejections did nothing to help their self confidence. None of this would her grandkit ever voice, Ryepath knew, but she heard their silent agonizing over whether settling for a clan where they would have been alienated but not hated might have been an okay decision nonetheless, the same way she could recognize whether they were feeling masculine or feminine. So she was determined to do better this time.

The area she had scouted out was known for its high concentration of clans- surely one of them would be worthy of her grandkit. Coming upon Clayclan had been a dream come true, almost too perfect to be real. Beautiful weather, beautiful surroundings, beautiful cats- hello Tawnymoon- but of course there was a catch. Ghosts.

"Honeyfur, would you raise kits here?" Ryepath inquired of her ghostly companion. She had insisted on scouting out the territory of her potential home by herself, hoping to get better grasp on the situation before Resinstar brought up Gopherpaw's warrior ceremony again. As an added bonus the walk had given her time to catch with Honeyfur. "Here in Beechclan? No I wouldn't have. I only spent a short time there alive but even before the end I knew something was wrong. But here in Clayclan?" She sighed. "I was a medicine cat you know. A good one at that. But I was in love with Momomoon and if I was given another chance? I would start a family with her here in a heartbeat." Ryepath nodded and left Honeyfur to her reminiscing on opportunities gone by. Gopher was eighteen moons now- they would have been an established warrior in Praireclan. It seemed unfair to keep them from growing up and becoming an established part of clan community because an old shecat was afraid to take a chance. "I appreciate your advice Honeyfur, and your honesty. You would have been a good mother."

"What are you doing in my den?" Crocusgaze fluffed up instinctively at Driftsteps's accusing tone. "In case you hadn't noticed I'm deputy now," she retorted. "It's part of my job to keep an eye on things." "And it's part of my job to make sure mousebrains like you don't poison yourself." The two shecats locked eyes. Crocusgaze felt the beginnings of a growl swell in her chest but she managed to fight it down. Aggravating Driftstep would get her nowhere, and maybe Resinstar had been right. "Maybe we started off on the wrong paw. I'd like to- I'd like to apologize for that." It hurt to swallow her pride like that- she hadn't even done anything wrong- but it had to be done. Surprise flashed in Driftstep's eyes, which was a little insulting. Crocusgaze could admit when she was wrong.

"Maybe I was wrong about you," Driftstep half-mused, half-admitted. Crocusgaze wanted to ask what that was all about but something told her such a question would probably be taken the wrong way. "What're you here for then?" And all at once the medicine cat was back to her usual brisk tone. "Did you just come to apologize or something else?" Crocusgaze's heart thudded obnoxiously at the question. "To offer advice actually- if you want it that is," she added hastily as Driftstep gave her the side-eye. "I know you're a very capable medicine cat and I obviously don't know anything about herbs. But I do know about organization. I was second in command under my father in my clowder you know." She puffed out her chest a bit and watched Driftstep carefully for signs of admiration. To her surprise she saw what might have been panic quickly covered up with cool nonchalance. Odd. "So anyways if you want my advice, and you should, I'm offering it. It'll keep me from breaking into your den to resort your stock anyways."What might have been a small twitch of amusement flashed across Driftstep's muzzle. "Will it really keep you out of here?" "Absolutely. Give me till the shadows reach the sand to make my case and I'll never come back uninvited. Even if I'm mortally wounded."

"How can you even tell these apart?" Crocusgaze grumbled. Despite the deputy's earlier boasts she was feeling a lot less confident now that Driftstep had laid out all her stock for reorganizing. Her nose was flooded with a uniform tangy scent that made her blue eyes begin to water. Driftstep laughed. "It takes a lot of practice but it's what I'm good at." Her mew was rather pointed, as if she enjoyed rubbing her competence in Crocusgaze's face. Which was fair. "Surely you must mix some of them up. Those two leaves look exactly identical." She waved a paw at two vaguely similar piles. "Burnet and catnip?" Driftstep scoffed. "Not at all. Catnip's far more triangular and the smell is sweeter. Here, take a whiff." With short but dexterous paws Driftstep scooped up a pawful of catnip and brought it to Crocusgaze's nose. Instantly she was overwhelmed by a tangy sweetness that made her brain feel both wonderfully alert and fuzzy at the same time. Subconsciously she began to salivate, and leaned over to rub her cheek against Driftstep's paw. The medicine cat pulled away just in time. "Well then," she teased as Crocusgaze recovered her senses enough to flush wildly, "looks like I'm definitely giving you tansy if you get greencough. Can't have our deputy behaving like a kit."

"Hey Ivypaw!" greeted Fogpaw chipperly. "Is Brushfire with you?" Ivypaw glowered at the too-sunny apprentice who dared interrupt her brooding time before nodding and jerking her head to her left. "Over there, stalking me as always." "I don't stalk you," Brushfire retorted, not that Fogpaw could hear him. Ivypaw, for her part, ignored him. "Were you hoping to see him again? I'm not hunting down fog with you to run any tests." To her relief the older apprentice shook his head. "I actually wanted to talk to him about, you know, being a calico tom." "Oh." Ivypaw flicked her ears awkwardly and tried to avoid Fogpaw's clouded gaze. It wasn't that she thought it was weird or anything that the other apprentice was born a shecat, far be it from her- who had, as a kit, had the absolute worst crush on Swiftfern- to judge another cat. But that didn't mean she wanted to play translator, especially not for Brushfire. The ghost wasn't even forthcoming on the topic, telling Ivypaw that he was a tom and refusing to answer any of her questions. Which fine. Whatever. It was personal. Why talk to Ivypaw about anything if you had a choice in the matter.

"He's taken a vow of silence," said Ivypaw suddenly, startling Fogpaw. "A vow of-" "Yep. Silence. No talking, mum's the word." "I have not" Ivypaw had no idea where she had gotten that idea from but she was sticking with it. "He won't tell me why, because you know vow of silence and all." Her mouth had run away with itself as if making up for the ever-stilted answers she gave her sister. "Feel free to ask again tomorrow though because I doubt he's any good at sticking with things." "Now listen here you twerp!" Oh darn now she had to have this conversation again tomorrow! But part of Ivypaw liked being sought out, even if it was for her ability to translate rather than for her as a cat. 

Fogpaw, on his part, looked thoroughly confused. "Okay," he managed finally. "I'll ask again later. Hey do you want to go climbing? You sister and Gopherpaw are at the big beech practicing." Why was it always about her sisters? "How'd you know that?" Ivypaw scoffed. "Read it in one of your webs?" To his credit Fogpaw just chuckled. "No I heard them tell Resinstar where they were going. So, you in?" Ivypaw considered it, opened her mouth to say yes, then promptly closed it again. "No," she replied stiffly. "I'm fine." Fogpaw shrugged. "Suit yourself." And he trotted off into the forest, leaving Ivypaw all alone again. "I'm still here you know."