Minkpaw's Moonstone Journey

Another night, another Moonstone journey. Mistlepaw had to practically drag herself out of her nest to even consider doing Minkpaw's moonstone journey. Even though it was a great responsibility (that she should appreciate more) and honor, how could you respect the cats that stole your grandfather away? It had been numerous sunrises since Jaystar's death, and not too long after Hailsong's disappearance. The loss of her only living family hit the young she-cat hard, so hard that she had stopped eating and resorted to hiding away in the medicine den. She had nothing left. Everything that she once had and loved and cherished was now gone, slipping between her paws like a wet fish. 

The gray and white tuxedo said nothing as she padded into the apprentice's den, straight to Minkpaw's nest. The tom had been through a considerable amount as well. But no one could truly understand her pain. Her mentor, her grandfather, and now her own mother were gone, leaving her with nothing. She had nothing. She was nothing. Eyes hollow and voice void of emotion, she meowed, "wake up. Time to go." Without another word, she departed, silently waiting outside with an herb bundle by her paws. Only one, meant for Minkpaw, for she had already eaten hers. 

A sound brushed at Minkpaw's ear fur, reaching in and hauling him out of sleep. It dispelled dreams of shifting mists and familiar ginger and black-striped pelts slipping away from his reach no matter how hard he tried to catch up. He tensed as his foggy mind registered another presence approaching his nest - panicky memories of a ragged russet pelt and yellow eyes flashing through his mind's eye - but to his relief, and chagrin, his nose registered only the scent of cat. Soon after, a voice spoke, its tone hollow and void of emotion, "Wake up. Time to go."

Is that... Mistlepaw? The groggy thought crossed his mind as his dull eyes opened, and he turned his head to catch a last glimpse of her tail disappearing into the murky light of early morning. For a few moments he lay there, paws heavy and mind clouded over. Memories of a day not too long ago, of a silver pelt huddled in the center of the clearing rasping its last few words, echoed down through the halls of time back to him. Why did they choose to do it now? His head dropped, a quiet sigh slipping from his jaws. And then he heaved himself to his paws, feeling a slight tremble of weakness in his legs, though only a distant ache of hunger made itself known in his belly.

Almost as if they were drawn to it, his eyes inadvertently caught sight of Yarrowpaw's cold, disheveled nest that hadn't been slept in for days. Dacepaw's, abandoned longer ago, had already been cleared out, but still he could remember where the little apprentice with a purr like thunder had been, her absence yet another mark against him. He averted his gaze, making sure to avoid two other spots now occupied by other sleeping forms as he padded towards the entrance. Every step felt like walking through thick mud as he brushed past the reeds at the entrance of the den. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to banish the lingering feeling of exhaustion that dogged his pawsteps every day without fail, no matter how hard he tried to escape it. But if it did anything, he couldn't tell as his paws continued dragging across the ground.

Across the clearing, the medicine cat apprentice was waiting, expression empty and unreadable. I know that feeling. His tail flicked slightly behind him as an odd spark of guilt ignited in his chest. I should have been there for her. I should have helped.... But what could he have done to ease their pain when he himself was slipping ever deeper into the dark hole he'd created? Feeling an emptiness rising inside his ribcage, he took his eyes from her face, instead focusing on the herbs beside her. He eyed them for a moment, and then reached down, licking up the leaves and swallowing them quickly.

A quick wrinkle of his muzzle was the only reaction he showed to their bitter taste before the dull look returned to his eyes. The sparkle in them was long gone, only to return on the rare occasion something caused him to forget, or when he was around a certain black she-cat like a ray of sunshine in the darkness shrouding him. Let this be over with soon.

Mistlepaw watched quietly as Minkpaw bent down to eat the herbs, catching the slightest wrinkle of his muzzle as he chewed and swallowed. His face quickly returned to stone, practically mirroring her own, which sent an unsettling chill down her spine. The gray and white tuxedo shuddered, tearing her gaze away from his and beckoning him with a flick of her tail. "We need to be back before sunhigh, so make haste," she meowed, leading the ginger tom out of camp. She said nothing afterwards, instead allowing silence to fall between them. She had nothing to say. She didn't need to, and she partially, didn't want to. She was in no mood to converse. The last of her family had just abandoned her, leaving her with nothing but her duties. Wasn't that better, though? She was less likely to get distracted. To stray from the path Starclan had set out for her, the moment she was born. This was why she survived on the shores. Why she was able to make the journey back. Why she had lost everything. Twas the harsh life of a medicine cat. They never had it easy. Who could they depend on when they were too busy caring for others? Her eyes glazed over as she lost herself in her thoughts. She was walking alongside Minkpaw, maw never opening to say a word, but her mind was elsewhere, reliving every moment that led up to this very second.

Almost unintentionally, Minkpaw caught Mistlepaw's eyes with own as he looked back up, the other cat twitching and turning away with a dulled meow. Silently, he followed, his tail flicking slightly behind him as guilt ran through him again. Where was his spark? Couldn't he talk to anyone anymore? What am I, a ghost? He considered the question as his paws padded over the baked mud of what used to be marshy ground. A sigh echoed in his mind in reply. Compared to what he had been, the answer was yes.

Above, clouds scudded across washed out, pale blue sky. A breeze brushed past his ear fur, whispering unknowable things he would never be able to understand. If you could see me now.... The wind sighed for him even as his face stayed set in stone. Uncertainty, regret, guilt, grief, and reluctance fought with one another under his pelt, a volatile mix of memories and current thoughts whirring through his mind on a sparrow's wingbeats. The only thing worse than having to go through this almost right before he left would be seeing his family there, their accusing gazes spearing him. I can't face them after what I've done. Yet every pawstep brought him closer, and he did nothing to stop them.

It looked like Mistlepaw, too, was lost in a world of her own thoughts, her head down and eyes glazed as she walked beside and slightly ahead of him. What irony, that Ivybrook and Torrentstar had sent both cats with nothing left of their past but painful memories on this journey together. Maybe it was their way of trying to help both. It doesn't work that way. But... he couldn't help feeling that maybe this was more than just a not-so-subtle attempt to get them out of their respective holes. When he looked at it that way, the nagging feeling that his family would have all said the same thing wouldn't get out of his head. Go on, you can help someone else. She's just like you.... Lost. Can't you leave me alone? Just for once? But the playful breeze tugged at his ears, whispering encouragement with a smile in a phantom voice he somehow knew.

Closing his eyes, he let out a silent sigh as he gave in. As he opened them again, he glanced at Mistlepaw, his voice - though soft - seeming almost unnaturally loud compared to the silence of before. "I've been told it gets better as time passes," He mewed, his voice sounding emotionless even to his own ears. "But... it never has. And I don't think it ever will." He let his eyes roam to the horizon, seeking that place somewhere else even as he knew he wouldn't be able to see it. "I hope it's different for you."

A soft voice startled her from her thoughts. Mistlepaw jolted as the soft voice spoke, launching her back into reality. He didn't even speak that loud..it just caught her off guard. She cleared her throat as she resumed walking beside him, and listened intently to what the ginger tom had to say.
 
"I've been told it gets better as time passes. But...it never has. And I don't think it ever will. I hope it's different for you."

Despite the grief lingering behind his tone, his words had a sincerity to them. Her eyes widened and she looked down at her paws. What he said reminded her of a conversation she had with Scorchclaw- now Torrentstar- so long ago. She chuckled, a sad smile creeping onto her face. The sound coming from her throat was strange...she hadn't laughed in a long time. Even if she wasn't amused, she was happy to hear herself laugh. It had been so long that she forgot what it sounded like. Mistlepaw glanced up at Minkpaw, fascination glinting in her gaze. What had pushed him into saying it? Had fate been tugging at his heart string; had he noticed the vacant look in her eyes? Or was this Starclan's bidding, their way of telling them that they could find joy in their grief? That they had each other? She nearly laughed again. Starclan didn't care for them. All it did was take, and take, and take, leaving nothing but pain and sorrow behind.

"I don't think it's gonna get better from here," she meowed sadly, ears flattening against her head. "But I appreciate the concern. In these flood waters, we gotta stay together. You never know when one of us will go under and need help."

Minkpaw's ears pricked slightly as Mistlepaw let out a laugh. Though tinged with sadness, the sound still tinkled out like the echo of a good memory, and he glanced down at her, a hint of emotion colouring his gaze for a moment. Just a flicker of warmth for a brief moment in a bleak world of cold. When was the last time I heard someone laugh...? It wasn't really a shock that he couldn't quite remember when... Maybe when Dacepaw was around? Yes, he'd heard laughter then. He clung to the memory, holding it firmly and almost desperately in a bid to keep that flicker of warmth.

Mistlepaw's words echoed in his heart. Sadly, despite all the wishing in the world, something broken so badly couldn't always be fixed; no matter how many well-wishes and kind words others could give. As he himself had found.

A wan smile twitched slightly at his muzzle. "No, you don't." A soundless sigh, more of a breath, really, escaped his maw. "Especially when we're all we have left."

His eyes played over the terrain around them for a moment, seeing it but not noticing anything, as he murmured mostly to himself, "I just wish sometimes these floodwaters didn't dash us onto the sharpest rocks it can find."

"I do, too. But the floodwaters don't listen to our pitiful cries and our pleas. All the shouts we make gets drowned out by the sounds of waves crashing on rock, carrying our fragile bodies. the horrible crack our hearts make as we collide with stone..it's the last thing we hear before we go under. And just when we think we're about to sink, never to surface again," she paused and stared intensely at the young tom beside her, yellow-green eyes blazing like the fire that burned in her heart, "someone's there. Just when you thought the entire world was against you, and you finally gave you up, someone's grabbing you and forcing you onto a sturdy long. Even as the flood churns and destroys around you, somehow...you're safe." 

Mistlepaw laughed again, sorrow glimmering in her eyes, mingling with the onslaught of tears brewing within them. "The floods play us for fools..and they aren't wrong," she murmured, voice shaking with emotion. She stopped walking and turned away from Minkpaw, ears flat against her head as she hid away her face. She didn't want him to see how weak and damaged she was. That despite everything going on, she wasn't as strong as she displayed herself to be. 

Following her emotional weakness, the medicine cat began walking again, refusing to meet the ginger tom's gaze. A grim expression still rested on her face, and sadness still lingered in her eyes. She wordlessly padded over the twoleg contraption that connected Windclan and Riverclan territory, not even bothering to check if it was safe. She was too lost in her thoughts once again..

Step, swish, step. His own breath swirled in his ears, Mistlepaw's soft words vibrating in his heart. ...The horrible crack our hearts make as we collide with stone.... He closed his eyes, feeling the rift that stone had torn in his own heart; raw, still weeping blood when jostled and spilling his very life upon the ground he'd grown up in. Opening them again, he looked up at Mistlepaw, some part of him marveling at the strength and conviction she could still muster, even when her world had collapsed around her.

"Even as the flood churns and destroys around you, somehow...you're safe." He watched as the beginnings of tears filled her eyes, sorrow ringing in her laugh. "The floods play us for fools..and they aren't wrong."

Something ached inside him as she turned her face away from him, and he stood, near yet too far. If his heart wasn't stone, if he had more tears left to cry.... A part of him longed to reach out, to help her, and maybe him, too.  But he stood, paws rooted, and a heartbeat later the moment was gone, the she-cat setting out once again, her eyes hooded and stony.

Quietly, he followed, his eyes looking at nothing in particular, but remembering that fierce look in her eyes, that spark that still burned.

She still fought, still took the paws offered to her and clung with a fierce determination. A thought began to take shape in his mind, encroaching from the corners and creeping its whispering way into his soul. Why don't I? Why can't I? An exhaustion crawled its way into his bones, an aching tiredness he couldn't deny. Too much seen. Too much lost.... Even his hopes, that future he was fighting a losing battle for, seemed an endless journey away. Should I even go there? Should I do this? He'd lived here his entire life, he'd always come back.... He was loyal for StarClan's sake! He'd fought to be accepted, and now here he was, about to throw it away. Whatever "it" was.

He realized his paws had stopped, halting at the twoleg bridge. Underneath him, the river ran over rocks, churning and bubbling its way towards wherever it went. What am I doing? Why am I still here? He looked down at the oddly cut wood beneath his paws, flashing glimmers shining between cracks in its surface. He was torn in two, yet he'd made his choice. Hadn't he?

"Why do you stay?" He found himself speaking again, and raised his eyes. "If RiverClan offers nothing for you.... If everything you know is gone.... Why not leave?"

Even as he asked her, he knew the words were wrong. It wasn't her he should be asking, it was himself. But still he stared at her, waiting for an answer, not even knowing why he was asking her now. Do I want to get branded as a traitor?

Mistlepaw looked at him in disbelief, eyes widening and her face knotted in confusion. Why couldn't she just..leave? Why, there were many reasons why she couldn't leave! Riverclan needed a medicine cat. Even if she wasn't the best one, she still had herb knowledge. She could still help! She could still save lives or bring others into the world. Although the cycle of counting herbs, arranging them, rinse, repeat, was draining her, it was her purpose. Her destiny. Cats died to make sure that she'd go down this path. Cats had to bleed and gurgle and cry and say their final goodbyes so she could perform her duties.

"I..I can't just leave!" she meowed, voice soft and cracking with emotion. The spark in her eyes. That determined flicker of hope danced fiercely within her yellow-green irises, even if it was a small one. "I'm a medicine cat, Minkpaw...my duty is to my clan. If I left..who would tend to the sick and the wounded? Who would be their shoulder to cry on? They'd have no one, and no one deserves to feel that way. Even if...even if I feel like I have nothing, I've always got my clan. My family. My home." the thought of her mentor and her grandfather laying still in the sand, surrounded by a pool of their own blood, was still fresh in her memory. Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she didn't hide them this time. She'd let Minkpaw see, even if it made her feel more fractured than before. He needed to see why she couldn't leave. He needed to see that, despite her emotional torment, she was still ready to dedicate her service to her clan. 

"I know you're troubled, Minkpaw," she spoke once more, eyes narrowing as she held his gaze. It was like she was peering into his soul, using his eyes as the window to his heart. "It's okay to be troubled. It's okay to question where your loyalty lies. If your heart is telling you something then...then follow it." What kind of advice was she giving? Was he suggesting that he leave the clan? Riverclan's numbers were dwindling enough...another loss would be tragic. But she also wanted him to be happy. Although they hadn't spoken much, it was clear the tom was suffering. And if he needed to leave to piece himself back together, to find out who he really was, then..so be it. "Wherever your heart decides to lead you...be careful. And please, please don't die." Her eyes glazed over briefly, as if the words that just left her maw triggered yet another memory. Whatever ghost that had just been haunting her disappeared, and her focus returned. She stared at him intensely for a moment, before flicking her tail and padding ahead of him. Their discussion was over; there was nothing more than needed to be said. She hoped that the wisdom she shared was the right kind...and that she didn't accidentally send this tom to his death.

Minkpaw felt hollow, almost emotionless as Mistlepaw turned, her eyes wide with shock at the question. Inside, he still roiled with conflicting feelings spilling over, yet locked in ice. No, of course she can't leave. He looked away, berating himself for letting his feelings and tongue slip away from him again as his tail twitched uncomfortably.

"Even if...even if I feel like I have nothing, I've always got my clan. My family. My home."

His gaze was wrenched back to her face at those words, and he searched her eyes as tears slipped down her face, the strength she'd possessed with a fierce determination breaking. Guilt surged inside his own chest, but he didn't look away as she held his gaze. A jolt of fear ran through his spine as she talked about the troubles that plagued him, an almost uncanny wisdom seeing through his question to its heart and what he was considering. But... to his surprise, instead of threatening to drag him to Torrentstar, she wished him well. More than that, she told him it was okay.

As much from shock at that as anything else, he kept quiet, his eyes still locked on her as she stared intensely at him for a moment before turning with a beckoning tail. For once, he had no idea what to say, and after a moment's hesitation he followed her. But then, what was there to say? Confusion and conflicting emotions still tore him in two as he padded behind her, swirling through his mind in unending chaos. Hopefully, StarClan would have some answer, and hopefully not just another, "follow your heart and remember who you are, Minkpaw."

What I wouldn't give for some answers.... Something... anything....

The remainder of the journey was spent in silence, one Mistlepaw did not oblige to. Her tears dried and the pain burning in her chest finally reduced to a dull ache. While she did periodically turn back to make sure that Minkpaw didn't run off and actually finished his Moonstone, she said nothing to him. She made no attempt to continue the conversation. The quiet was tense for a few moments, but it eventually grew comfortable as each cat got lost in their own thoughts. 

Finally, they arrived at the Moonstone. "We're nearly there; the moonstone is right at the end of this cave. It's dark down there, so don't be scared to holler if you think you're getting lost," she meowed the usual warning, but nothing more, and descended into the tunnel. She crept through it, muscle memory taking over as she padded through the darkness. She stopped occasionally to make sure Minkpaw wasn't falling behind or getting lost until the light glowing from the Moonstone illuminated the rest of the way. She padded into the cavern holding the spiraling crystal and allowed Minkpaw to step out after her. "What Starclan tells you, you choose to share. But if it is impending doom, I would appreciate a warning. I'll be waiting here for you to wake up."

Minkpaw nodded as Mistlepaw talked, avoiding her eyes as her words broke through his thoughts. He followed her down in the darkness, which once might have made him nervous, but no longer felt like anything worth noting. I've faced worse things. Still, it was somehow easier to imagine foxes breathing down his tail, ghosts dogging his paws with ethereal steps, dogs waiting in the darkness. He closed his eyes against them, following the scent of Mistlepaw as she led them deeper inside.

Eventually, they came into a cavern filled with a sparkling light that glittered off the walls. His tail flicked in curiosity as he saw the light bouncing off the walls, and his eyes opened wide as they entered the cavern fully, a massive sparkling stone filling the centre and glowing with the light of a thousand stars. That's the moonstone? It was somehow even more impressive than he'd imagined it. For just a moment, life came back to his eyes as his ears pricked, his thoughts and troubles lost in the awe-inspiring sight.

Mistlepaw's voice brought him back to reality, and he glanced from her to the stone, sudden apprehension tingling in his paws. Impending doom? That would be just his luck. Giving a short nod, he stepped forwards, taking a deep breath as he approached the stone glittering coldly in the light of the moon. What would he see? Who would he see?

Only one way to find out.

Reaching his nose forwards, he tapped it to the stone, keeping his eyes open as he steeled himself for what lay beyond it. A cold shock ran through his body, an electric tingle like crashing through ice into freezing water flashing through his entire being.

Darkness claimed him, but he could still think, the realization that he was somewhere and nowhere filling him with sudden panic. Even as he began to thrash against it, a sudden feeling coursed through his limbs, peace like the feeling of his mother curled around him calming his sudden panic. And beyond it he swore he could sense something, not Littlestream, but....

He opened his eyes to find himself standing in a starry land full of reeds, the gentle sound of a river babbling from somewhere nearby. "Starlord?" He blurted, turning and hoping to see a ginger and white tom. His heart ached at the thought, but he saw no one. Blinking, he flicked his tail, eyes flicking around this strange place. Who-? Where? He tasted the air, hoping to catch a hint of that elusive scent.

The RiverClan apprentice's first words in StarClan were to cry out for his rogue father. The starry ancestor prowling through the reeds wondered what Minkpaw could possibly think Starlord had done to earn a place in Silverpelt, and it took all his strength not to growl. Still, he couldn't say nothing. "Come on, Minkpaw, you're not that kit-minded. You weren't when I was alive, anyways," Mottledspark growled, slowly emerging from the starry foliage. His thick pelt glimmered luxuriantly. "Rogues don't make it to StarClan. Even if we pretended Starlord was a good cat - which is a big if considerin' the chaos he caused RiverClan on more than one occasion - the fact is he never believed in StarClan or the warrior code. He couldn't find his way here because he wasn't even interested in lookin'. His spirit is doomed to wander, just like he insisted upon doin' with his real life."

The warrior stood in front of his former apprentice, watching him with interested eyes. "I'm not here to talk about him. I'm here to talk about you. What is it that you planned to do if you saw Starlord, hm?"

Minkpaw's fur immediately prickled as a different scent - not the one of a dead ginger tom, but another - drifted onto his tongue. Snapping his eyes to where the reeds rustled, he tensed as a starry form padded out. Its voice rumbled out, familiar and yet different, strange and yet.... He could feel his mind clawing backwards, desperately trying to escape the truth. That voice, that scent.

Mottledspark stepped out from the reeds, his eyes disapproving as he growled a reprimand.

All Minkpaw managed to do for a few heartbeats was stare, an odd mixture of emotions rushing through his head. He's dead then. He'd never returned, it was impossible that he could have survived, but like he had with everything else, Minkpaw had tried to irrationally trick himself into thinking the other could still somehow be around. Kit-minded? He thought bitterly. You have no idea.

Shaking his head, he tried to regain his mental paws, opening his mouth to reply. That mental footing was immediately knocked out from underneath him at the starry warrior's next words, his mouth gradually closing as a pit was opened underneath him. A buzzing noise lingered on the edge of his hearing, his ears trying to make sense of the words. Gone. The words echoed through his head. Not a good cat. Wasn't interested. Doomed to wander. Didn't care. Mottledspark was only echoing every thought, some guilty, that he himself had ever had, but somehow... hearing it from his former mentor's own maw in clinical, brutally honest phrases....

The despair that had risen like a dark tide slowly gave way to anger, irrational and burning. He narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth and fighting to keep his tail from twitching as the older warrior came to stand in front of him, resisting the urge to unsheathe his claws. The other tom eyed him curiously, his question hanging in the air like a taunt.

Minkpaw chose to ignore it. "What are you playing at, Mottledspark?" He growled. "I don't remember you being a taunting toad, either, last time I knew you. What is it about my father you always get so hung up on? The only trouble he ever caused was the accident that led to me. Maybe you should throw me out with the crows, too. Leave both of us rogue-spawn to the Dark Forest." He let out a bitter snort, a tinge of tiredness edging his anger. Of all the things he had expected to find, somehow Mottledspark wasn't one of them. Mentally, he cursed himself for thinking of Starlord at all. This isn't the conversation I wanted to have. But it looked like it was the one he was going to get, regardless.

Mottledspark knew that he was less than ten heartbeats in and already his apprentice's temper was flaring. The young tom's face that had been so sadly hopefuly a moment before was quickly drifting from shock to disappointment to bitterness, his luminous green eyes narrowing slightly at his former mentor's words. Mottledspark wondered if he ought to have taken a differnet approach; however, as the first words left Minkpaw's voice in a growl, the warrior set his jaw firmly and narrowed his own gaze evenly. No, this was the necessary approach. His thick tail twitched steadily behind him as Minkpaw went on with irritation about Starlord and his "rogue-spawn" heritage.

The StarClan cat narrowed his eyes and responded tersely, "Minkpaw, kit, if I wanted you to become crow-food I wouldn't'a come to see you. I'd've let any other sanctimonuous StarClan cat who felt like they could possibly understand you and change you and "fix" yer problems come frolic in the stars with you and chitter like a queen. Lots of 'em are good at that - all talk an' no action." Mottledspark shook his head, none of the fire leaving his eyes as he continued, "No, Minkpaw, I'm here 'cause I don't want you to rot. You already are. I don't need the sight of a StarClan ancestor to see you're torn over your loyalties, 'specially when it's one of the first things you throw out when you get to your Clan's ancestral home."

Mottledspark shifted, his tail settling ever so slightly. The warrior shook his head and rumbled, "You're livin' with a paw in two worlds, Minkpaw. Not only is it dangerous for the Clan, but it's dangerous for you and everyone involved with you. Someday you're gonna be asked to take an oath for RiverClan, and you're not gonna be able to take it. Not with your head the way it is now."