Wildpaw's Moonstone Journey

When Crowspirit came to him to tell him that Clearpaw was prepared to meet the ancestors, Aspenheart knew he was in for it. Three ready apprentices within a quarter moon, and WindClan needed able warriors more than ever. Stars. He decided the most efficient way to carry out their spiritual journeys was to do them back-to-back. Barring any bad weather or mysterious omens, the wily old cat was mentally, emotionally, and physically preparing himself to ferry three young cats to Highstones and back for three consecutive evenings. He said a few prayers, prepped Softpaw to hold down the camp by herself, and only rethought his decisions twice before the first apprentice's day came. Wildpaw had been through much in her short life. She deserved a break. Aspenheart could sympathize with her condition. He thought of her as he recuperated from his early-morning seizure, sighing and gulping down herbs that probably wouldn't work. He stumbled haphazardly across the den, tiptoeing over Morningdove and picking up a pair of herb bundles.

He peeked out into the sunlight and found Wildpaw's speckled fur. He padded up to her side, waiting until he was a few paces from her before mewling. He waited for her to turn her head before closing the distance, assured that he didn't startle her. "Alright, kitten-fluff," he teased, as he did with all apprentices from time to time, "Here's your herbs. I hope you don't mind slowpokes. You can imagine how long it takes me to get places on these legs." He pushed the herbs towards her until they touched her paw-tip before downing his own.

Wildpaw was curled up, nose tucked under her paw, when something woke her up. 'Alright, kitten-fluff' Me? The blind molly woke drowsily, scarred eyes squinting. Her nose twitched as she noticed Aspenheart in front of her, with a tangy scent she could only assume was herbs. She glanced back at her fur, still fluffed out from sleep, and shrugged. "...I mean, I still have a little bit of kit-fluff." Her scarred eyes narrowed playfully as she added, "If you call me that, I'm going to call you old man."

The tangy herbs poked her paw and she gulped them down. Despite what was often said about the herbs, she didn't find them revolting, only a bit bitter. Wildpaw rose, tail swishing, and pushed out of the den. "You might want to try sweetening those herbs with rabbit-blood or honey, or... I don't know how you would do that, but yeah." She stretched, fluffing her fur out, and trotted back to Aspenheart.

Aspenheart led Wildpaw out of camp, chuckling as she returned his remarks. "That would be a good idea if we weren't traveling," he explained. "But they're meant to stave off hunger and exhaustion, and from experience, adding a meal to it defeats the purpose."

He walked side by side with Wildpaw as they traversed the moor, only stopping once or twice so Aspenheart could take a mental note of herb growth patterns. With the sun shining brightly overhead, the medicine cat was relieved to find that they were on schedule. "So, Wildpaw," he asked, clearing his throat. There wasn't really a tactful way to ask this question, was there? "How has training changed for you and Olivestone? I hope you don't mind me being curious." Aspenheart fell quiet for a few beats. "I was your age when a dog crippled me. Well... I actually don't know which it was. There was a dog, a rock, floodwater... somewhere in there, my head couldn't take another hit. Ever since, I've lost the coordination of my legs and I developed the falling sickness. You wouldn't remember him, but the only other cat like me was Elmskip. He was missing his leg. I always admired how he rose above and learned to love it as a part of himself. StarClan didn't restore his leg, because he didn't need it. If I hadn't been injured, I would have never discovered my love for medicine, but... at the same time, I think I want my legs in StarClan. I never want to worry about an unexpected fall again. I want to run with my brother, Barleytuft. I promised him that I would run."

Aspenheart stared off into the seemingly endless field of ryegrass, the treeless landscape which every cat in WindClan knew by heart and soul. A seasoned warrior could navigate it with their eyes closed. Why couldn't Wildpaw? "You know, I bet you'd be an excellent tunneler."

There were times she wished for sight, and this was one of them. All she could do was imagine the sun's rays raking the open moor, tall grass rippling in the wind, the sky a bright blue, maybe wisps of clouds here and there. But she couldn't see, and she had to live with that. The scarred apprentice's ears flicked up as Aspenheart began to speak, and she plodded on beside him, trying to think of the best way to answer that. "Honestly, it hasn't changed much. Thankfully, we were able to get a tour of the territory in before I was blinded, so at least I know what the moor looks like. I was blinded soon after that, though, so I've never really experienced what hunting with sight is like. It seems natural for me without sight now."

She fell silent as Aspenheart began to talk his life, full of stories and names she'd never known. Her tail twitched uncertainly as Aspenheart made a remark about being a tunneler. "You think so? Olivestone hasn't taken me down there yet, but I guess I'd get used to it quickly, since it wouldn't be that different for me."

Aspenheart mrrped, happy to hear that Wildpaw and Olivestone were both adjusting. The medicine cat had a feeling that the two she-cats were good for each other as apprentice and mentor. They both needed a win. Aspenheart wondered how well-versed WindClan's deputy was in tunnel travel, anyway. There was a culture of hesitance around it, but perhaps it was exactly what Wildpaw needed. "You should ask her to teach you. A lot of warriors are too claustrophobic to stomach it, but I see you being an impeccable navigator."

The thunderpath was slow this time of day, just before sundown, when the sun hung low enough to see on the horizon, but did not yet threaten to hide under cover of the mountains. WindClan was lucky, though, because they had a tunnel under it. Aspenheart grinned as he pulled back the gorse covering it, silently thanking Goldengale and her ingenuity. "Come on," he whispered. "Have your first taste of the underground."

The tunnel was cold, dark, and dusty. The path was shallow, and roots from the above flora tickled the tops of the pair's ears and heads. It was quiet underneath, where not even crickets chirped. Aspenheart felt a sense of peace overwhelm him... until he felt the rumbling of a monster coming over them. He turned around to call back to Wildpaw. "Don't worry, it can't hurt us! It'll just shake some dust on your face! Keep your mouth shut and ears down!" And shake it did; as the heavy monster roiled over the flat rock over their heads, they were covered in a thin layer of brownish silt. Aspenheart emerged from the tunnel first, shaking out his short pelt. "Most tunnels don't have twoleg contraptions over them, to be fair."

Wildpaw's ears twitched uncertainly at all of the compliments Aspenheart was giving her. It was true she enjoyed being in the company of the older tom, but she wasn't sure if his complements were out of pity.

...Either way, she was grateful that someone was paying attention to her.

The tawny apprentice's tail flicked up in an excited and nervous gesture as she heard Aspenheart shift some heather, and the moist air of the underground came flooding up. Her head tilted slightly. "A tunnel under the Thunderpath?" Well, I suppose that's better than risking our lives on it. Still seems a bit... strange, but maybe that's just because I haven't been underground yet. Well, I have to try it sometime. With those thoughts in her mind, Wildpaw padded right behind Aspenheart, fur bristling slightly.

Her ears flattened involuntarily as something tickled against it from above... to be expected underground, but still surprising. She identified it as some type of plant, continuing on with her ears angled flat against her head. She was surprised to find that she enjoyed the cool air, if a bit musky, and the feeling of being closed in. While some might've been claustrophobic, Wildpaw felt as if she was meant to be underground. She'd never cared for the whistling winds of the moor, anyway. Her claws dug against the ground as a rumble started to shake the tunnel, her fur bushing out, and she pressed against Aspenheart. It was a few moments later when he heard the sound, and he explained it to her. She quickly clamped her jaws shut and ducked her head between her shoulders, feeling her body shake as the monster rumbled above.

Wildpaw quickly emerged from the tunnel, scrambling to shake her pelt free of the dust. Dang it, that stench is going to be on my pelt for a while. She shrugged and nodded slightly as Aspenheart spoke. Her sightless eyes tilted in the direction she knew was Mothermouth. "What's it like? Being a medicine cat, I mean?"

[ooc: if ya don't mind, i'd like to speed it up a little so she gets to highstones soon!]

ooc: no problem! let the speeding commence

Aspenheart thought about Wildpaw's question for only a few heartbeats. "Lots of memorizing," he started. "Herbs, injuries, ailments, treatments, where to find herbs, how to use them, which ones will kill you, which won't... You understand. And then there's the prophecies, and that you'll never guarantee that you can save everyone. It's stressful. Difficult. But I'm used to things being hard, and I think that it's worth the trouble. I get to fall asleep at night knowing that I've served my clan. If I wasn't a medicine cat, I'd be an elder. I'm thankful for being able to do this."

The medicine cat fell silent as the pair climbed Highstones, slipped into the stone tunnel, and emerged in the Moonstone's cavern. Aspenheart pressed himself against the wall, sliding down to a sitting position, and motioned for Wildpaw to have a seat next to the illuminated rock. "I'll see you on the other side, Wildpaw," he said quietly, nasally voice echoing across the cave.

Wildpaw tipped her head slightly as Aspenheart explained it. Honestly, memorizing that doesn't sound all that different from memorizing the territory like I've had to do. As the pair climbed up Highstones, she took a second to glance back, letting the breeze gust into her face. Yet another time she wished she could see. She turned back, following Aspenheart. When they entered the Moonstone's cavern, Wildpaw could feel the glow of the Moonstone, though she couldn't see it. Hesitantly, she slid forwards until her nose tapped the stone, and she relaxed, slowly falling into a deep sleep.

At first, Lightfang had been hesitant. As if appearing before WindClan’s leader hadn’t been strange enough, now he was being asked to advise their apprentices. Even if he hadn’t been the warrior who’d abandoned WindClan on one of their darkest nights, part of him would have shied away at the thought of telling someone else what was best. Then he’d seen the apprentice he was meant to speak to. Someone quiet, yet loyal; doubtful, yet desperate to prove herself. After all these moons, that old story still tugged at him. Wildpaw most likely wouldn’t go down the path he’d chosen—her family was firmly moor-bound, to start—but she had her own struggles. The least he could do was tell her what he wished he’d known in life.

As Wildpaw’s form took shape, the tall warrior seated himself in the moor-grass and wrapped his tail around his paws. He wore the scars along his throat with something that, while not quite pride, stood a world apart from the shame he’d lived under. ”Welcome to StarClan,” he said. A smile flickered across his pale muzzle. ”My name is Lightfang. I used to be a WindClan warrior… Before that, I lived in SkyClan.” He settled back into silence, then, watching Wildpaw’s expression; no matter what he said, it was up to her to decide whether she thought him the sort of cat worth listening to. ”Is there anything you’d like to know?”

Wildpaw had wished she could see at least in StarClan, but maybe that was only for the deceased. She was blind as every. Her tail bushed as she spun around, relaxing when she inhaled WindClan scent with a hint of what could only be defined as starlight. Her head tilted to the side slightly at the warrior's words - Lightfang's words - and she nodded her thanks, still in awe of the whole process. She would've liked to ask about why he had switched to WindClan from SkyClan, but she figured Spotlake would be able to tell her that. "Well... I guess, just, life's been harder ever since I've been blinded. And I want to know... can I still be as good as others, even like this?" She let out a small sigh, scarred eyes tilted slightly down to her paws. Self-doubt had plagued her before she'd been blinded, but after that, it had ramped up, making her believe she was worthless. With Olivestone's help, it had gotten better, but she doubted she'd ever be able to let go of it fully.

Though Lightfang was relieved Wildpaw hadn’t made much of his birthplace, the look on her face—a look that suggested he was worth listening to—made him uncomfortable. He resisted the urge to shuffle his paws. At least she wasn’t scared the way he’d been during his own Moonstone journey. As she answered, Wildpaw seemed to wilt slightly. Pushing past the faint pang in his chest, Lightfang paused just long enough to think through his words. ”Of course.” On its own, that wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t have swayed him; it certainly wouldn’t convince Wildpaw. ”…My mother was deaf. Though she had to do some things differently, she hunted and fought as well as any SkyClanner. It isn't the same, I know, but you’re as capable as the rest of WindClan.” He pressed his front paws together. Speaking this much at once wasn’t his strong suit, but he’d been chosen for a reason; he’d see this through. ”You’ve done well enough to visit the Moonstone. That’s proof of how far you’ve come.”

'Of course' was the answer she wanted, but how? It felt like she was always missing catches when her friends were catching them with great technique. Her ear flicked and she sat down as Lightfang began to share a story. Wildpaw lifted her chin slightly as he told her she'd come far. Well, he was StarClan, so maybe it was true. It had to be true. "Th-thanks." She hesitated. "Is there anything I should know? Anything I should worry about?

The coils in Lightfang’s chest loosened as Wildpaw lifted her head. There was little he could say to make her believe him; insecurities took time to fix, and even then, they had a way of lingering. At least, his certainly did. He could hope, though, that he’d helped build some sort of foundation. StarClan’s words had always meant a lot to him. Maybe Wildpaw was the same. A frown settled on his face as he considered her question, tilting his head. What she should worry about—stars, he could go on about that for moons. But they didn't have moons, and Wildpaw had grown up in WindClan; she probably knew the moor’s dangers better than he did. ”I don’t know much about the future,” he said after a moment. ”But whatever happens…there’s always a way forward.” That was one thing all of WindClan seemed to have in common. One thing he wished he’d learned from them in time. Lightfang gave her another faint smile. "Keep your ears open, and don't give up. That's the best advice I have."