Yarrowpaw's Moonstone Journey

Yarrowpaw

Yarrowpaw had been waiting for this day for a long, long time. Long trips weren’t really his thing, seeing how much he tended to trip and get lost, and it’s only gotten worse since the attack. Yarrowpaw’s front leg still ached something awful, and he was still apprehensive to put any of his weight on it. His new scars, down his leg and parting the fur there, were shiny and pink, and hurt when stretched too far. Of course, Yarrowpaw refused to let this stop him from completing his training— his Moonstone was tonight!

Jumping up onto even more unsteady legs when Dovesight padded into the apprentice den, Yarrowpaw quickly ingested the herbs the medicine cat offered him, almost choking on them from the excitement. The moment he finished, he moved to look up at Dovesight, rocking paw to paw. ”I’m ready when you are!”


Yarrowpaw followed Dovesight’s instruction as they walked through Mouthermouth and towards the Moonstone, the lanky apprentice carefully stepping his way towards the stone. Its shimmer casted a soft glow onto Yarrowpaw and his surroundings, almost distractingly pretty. Yarrowpaw had to focus, though— he closed his odd eyes, rested close to the cold ground, and pressed his spotted nose to the Moonstone.

Yarrowpaw

Yarrowpaw recoiled in shock. Who was this little kit, and why was he so angry with him? This was Yarrowpaw’s Moonstone, the last hurdle before warriorhood, and some frail kit was scolding him! Wasn’t Yarrowpaw supposed to receive some great knowledge and advice from a warrior ancestor? What advice could this kit give him?!

”I… who are you? Where’s my StarClan warrior? I mean— isn’t that who’s supposed to give me advice? And the attack wasn’t my fault, okay! It was Woolypaw’s idea, and I couldn’t just leave him to die; he’s my best friend!”

Despite all the judging, the stillborn kit’s words did seem to hold some weight; you only get one life. Yarrowpaw’s spent all of his kithood and apprenticehood trying to prove himself without worry for the consequences. Should he start thinking, slow down, cherish life a little more?

Yarrowpaw

Yarrowpaw crept back with every harsh word spat at him by this kit— Cedarkit, his uncle. The stillborn brother of his mother. Suddenly, a lot of his words made much more sense to Yarrowpaw— his actions must look so bone-headed to someone who never got to live past birth. ”Listen, I didn’t mean anything like that! I’m just living my life! I want to be a warrior, you know! You have to show bravery and strength!” Yarrowpaw honestly had no utter idea why he was arguing with Cedarkit, especially since he knew he was in the wrong. Maybe it was the complete refusal Yarrowpaw had deep to accept a scolding from a newborn.

This was just preposterous.

”Don’t remind me I’m gonna die! I don’t like thinking about it! And plus, now I want to think about it even less when you’re threatening to rip my head off!”