Mottlerose's Leader Ceremony

Many would expect the time to be jubilant, that excitement would be filling the paws of the tortoiseshell molly. The expectation that the fantasy of having the gift to receive nine lives and lead the Clan would become a reality instead of a dream as she had been deemed worthy seemed all too far away, a heavy burden placed on her shoulders. Being the mate of the leader had many of its own struggles and burdens, knowing that she’d never truly get to experience a life quite like the one they had hoped to enjoy together if they were simple warriors. That was something she had given up long ago, as the tom had been appointed deputy nearly as soon as he had been named a warrior. It was a position he had been molded into without little choice or direction, and she had poured every part of her being out into supporting him. When it was time for her mate to take up the mantle and follow in Stoatstar’s paws, it meant that Minnowstar’s would then need filled. It felt wrong, in a way, to be the mate of the leader, but also named deputy. Yet at the same time, she accepted the responsibility that had been given without a flicker of doubt. The care she had for her Clan… it was indescribable. All she wanted to do was make sure her family was safe, it was happy, it was calm.

The storm she would weather was one that was far from what she had expected. Feeling the full effects of the grief of losing all of her first litter of kits, all while she had to shove it down to be there for her Clan. It was followed by the concern of Shadowclan washing up onto their borders, with the joy of having more children of her own shortly to follow. The jubilance was a feeling she wanted to relish in, to share with her mate.

But she knew it all wasn’t as it seemed. The tortoiseshell was painfully aware of the illness that slowly crept and loomed on Thunderclan, much like a cat waiting to pounce on its prey at the right moment. It hid in the shadows, stealing from her mate here and there. It hurt her, it pained her to such a significant degree. Not even remotely because she found herself taking more and more of her mate’s duties onto her shoulders, but because leadership should have promised her so much more time. So much more time to grow into her role as deputy, so much more time to spend with her mate. It seemed the stars had other plans, and for once… she hoped they didn’t. All she wanted to do was bury herself in the nest they had shared in the leader’s den, to burrow into her mate’s fur and be told it wasn’t the case. To simply close her eyes and wake up that it was all a dream, that she’d be feeling the tom nudging her to wake up for a patrol together.

She had heard as his lives were slowly taken from him, one by one. She had walked with him to move from the leader’s den to the medicine den to be under the watchful eye of Fawnshine and Eggdrop, somehow holding in the tears and sobs until she had been able to collapse back in the den they once shared. It felt wrong to be in the cavernous space all on her own, she felt dwarfed by the space that otherwise was supposed to feel cramped. What should have been warm was now cold, a space that she felt trapped by. But at the same time, it felt even worse to go to the warrior’s den where the deputy often resided. She hadn’t slept in that den in ages, and to leave it empty would acknowledge the struggles of leadership to the Clan. Even through all of the grief that clouded her mind, she had to stay strong. For Thunderclan, for Shadowclan to see strength.

Her head felt so heavy on her paws as she thought about it all. At how her mate had called her to the Medicine Den not too long ago to tell her that Starclan had taken his lives, and that he no longer would be Minnowstar. To once more hear his name as Minnowfin, to see his frail state… she didn’t want it to be true. The tortoiseshell had zero desire to bring herself to Highstones to receive her lives that were owed to her as a result of the events. At the very least, she had been able to bring herself to properly name the deputy that would stand by her, that would support Thunderclan at her side. She thought of the hope that shone in her clanmate’s eyes at being named deputy, at the chance that they would get the prestigious title. But to Mottlerose… there was nothing prestigious about being deputy. It was a rigorous role that transformed the very soul of the cat who filled those paws. While it seemed controversial, there was truly nobody better she could think of that would be able to be strong for the Clan. They had faced adversity from the time of their youth, triumphant and blossoming in their own way. The strength that they had was undeniable, and it was why it was the only cat that she could think of.

That very cat might as well have been a sister to Mottlerose, and there was really no other way that she could view the molly. Even if separated by blood, there was an unmistakable bond that they shared, and that was another crucial factor. To be able to work seamlessly with whoever she had at her side would only further help the Clan prosper. Fawnshine and Eggdrop both were fantastic felines to work with, and she thanked the stars on more than one occasion for their expertise. It was the same case when she thought of Thistlemask. Someone she knew had proven their dedication to her, and while some members of the forest had bad tastes in their mouth from her past… the Stars knew the truth. She had been shown no ill signs or heard of anything from Fawnshine after naming the bicolored warrior to be her deputy, and that was all she needed for confirmation that she had made the right choice.

It only left one last task for her to do to fill the pawsteps of her mate, to truly fulfill the circle of leadership. While she could have brought Fawnshine or Eggdrop alongside her, her heart was simply too heavy. It was a weakness she couldn’t bring herself to show in front of the medicine cats. They needed a strong leader as they dealt with everything that seemed to be going wrong in the forest, a strong leader as they tended to the Clan in their own ways. A small chuckle echoed in the space of the leader’s den as she thought about it, how she was acting exactly like Stoatstar had done. Hiding away her own pain for the sake of the Clan, shoving it down to be forced to listen to only when she was alone. The cat that she had most confided in was no longer of the health to be able to hold all of her troubles, and she couldn’t bring herself to burden another with them. A deep, weary sigh released itself from her chest as she forced her body to stand, the iron shackling her to her nest being broken free.

For the first time in moons, the vibrant tortoiseshell felt dull, and it was perhaps at the brightest point of her life. Her head hung as she took the steps from her den, looking up towards the moon. The gathering had brought painful news of its own, especially with Nightstalker now knowing that he would also have to take the place of Froststar. It all felt too soon, that they should have had longer before they had to take the place of their leaders. Her mind wandered to the dark tom for a moment, curious if he had already ventured to receive his nine lives. Part of her itched for the next gathering to receive answers, with another part of her almost wanting to simply stop by and ask. To see if Shadowclan was faring well, to know just how harshly the flooding had damaged their territory. Yet another sigh released itself from the molly’s frame as she simply looked about the camp. It felt as if sometimes, she cared a bit too much for every cat that walked in the forest. Of course, her loyalties were the closest to Thunderclan, but it was impossible to deny the fact that no matter who it was that came to their door, she would find some semblance of sympathy.

Perhaps it was because of the cruelties of life that seemed to plague her. Kithood found her without parents rather quickly, lost to predators in a battle that they should have survived. Apprenticeship with a distant mentor, and appointed to one that only returned for the end of her training left her feeling without a true mentor or guidance. Stars, it had been her mate that had taught her how to hunt. Warriorhood quickly found her worrying about every member of the Clan, only for the Dark Forest to soon sink its claws into their world. The travesty that had all brought still weighed on her shoulders, and for just a moment, she had to shake her head as she thought she saw the tattered pelt of one of the shadow cats that had taken residence within their camp. It still haunted her, and she still could see as Morningsun gave his sacrifice for Starclan to return. She had to shake her head to clear the thoughts away, to let the nighttime hours somehow be soothing to her instead of threatening. All she wanted was for the sun to shine again, though it felt like the night just lasted longer and longer. That darkness only continued as she went near the medicine den, having to choke back tears as she knew who all was inside. The bundle of herbs she had asked for was exactly in the place she had expected, and quickly did she scarf them all down. There was no time to think about the bitter sting on her tongue, as if she did… she’d never leave.

In the fog of her mind did she finally leave the camp. The familiar, foliage-thick scent of Thunderclan wrapped her in an invisible hug as she simply trudged through the territory - her territory. Even as it was muddled still from the marshy scent of Shadowclan taking up residence for as long as they had to, the true scent of her home still was champion. It was a small bit of poetic encouragement, in a way. Even with half of a Clan having to stay within their walls, they survived. Even when the Dark Forest seemed it would never leave as it took the dim moonlight of the evening, they still survived. And just as the forest had, for just a moment, Mottlerose felt the encouragement that she would, too.

As she followed her path, it slowly settled in that her last journey to Highstones had been so, so many moons ago. By some grace of Starclan, it felt that her paws still knew the way, though perhaps that was because she had asked the medicine cats what the easiest way to get there was. Her knowledge of the forest, and her journey before she became a warrior, all seemed to return to her mind as she made her way through the forest. Slowly would the comforting hug of Thunderclan’s scent begin to leave her as Fourtrees came into view, the chaos of scent of every single Clan coming to her nostrils. It made her head throb, when everything seemed so overwhelming. But she would make it, just as she had been able to keep the Clan afloat while Shadowclan kept residence. Just as she had led Thunderclan to the gathering, only just a few days prior.

Her pace slowed as she entered the familiar, peaceful grove. Amber eyes settled onto the Great Rock, and it was at that time it was impossible to keep the tears back from her eyes. Painfully, each step she took was slower as the mental shackles began to return, as she found herself in front of the place she had been sitting at not too long ago. The fact that she had announced to all of the Clans that her mate would get better and return to her duties when she still had the hope he would be able to. It seemed that reality would take that particular time to strike down the deputy, and the tortoiseshell fell to her paws. Tears dripped and stained the earth beneath her as the pain and grief worked its way through her body. Minnow, my sweet Minnow… Why did the Stars have to take your lives so soon? You should be the one going up onto that rock every gathering… It shouldn’t be me... It shouldn’t be me yet. Her mind swam with the darkening thoughts, the cloud once more settling in. Hope and grief raged a constant war inside her chest as all of the emotions poured out of her like a storm.

She couldn’t understand just why she had been left with the position of leadership so soon. Was this how Minnowfin had felt when he was named deputy, only a sunrise after he had been given the title of a warrior? It felt like it had to be similar. To be overburdened by the expectations that you truly had no way of escaping. She could only hope that she wouldn’t pass that feeling onto her deputy, that they would be ready when it was her time to move on. Her paws kneaded at the well-worn ground beneath them, which only further served a purpose to remind the molly of her mate. It was a habit that she had gotten from him, and one that comforted her just as it seemed to somehow work for the silvery tom.

It felt incredibly selfish of her to take the time to mourn on such an important evening. To be thinking of herself and the feelings that seemed to trap her down, rather than continue pushing forward and complete her next duty to her Clan. All she wanted to do was to simply swallow it all down, to stop the tears, to turn off her mind. Though as much as she tried, it became harder and harder, the thoughts of those she had lost only further making the molly sob at one of the most peaceful places at the forest. All because she couldn’t bring herself to look up at that rock, all because she didn’t have the strength to stand atop it with pride. There was nothing stopping her, nothing in her way to enjoy the power that she had been given. Though, at the same time, there was so much weighing her down. Experience had shown her the responsibility that the power at her paws gave, the fact that she had a say in the life and death of so many cats. That they all looked up to her to be a role model, that her words would be the law that they followed. It all felt like something she was unworthy of, that she was undeserving to be the cat that they all looked up to with awe and trust. Even with her own feelings, she knew she would have to set them aside. It would be an even greater disservice to her Clan to give into the thoughts that swarmed her brain, to give up and say that she couldn’t do it. She knew that most of them would understand, the grief-stricken tortoiseshell who had been unable to go on because she wasn’t ready to lose her mate.

But that wasn’t how Mottlerose wanted to be known. She wanted to be the mother that the forest could rely on, the one that they could come to for comfort in their own times of struggles. Her selfish desires to simply throw it all away poured out in her tears, the physical release having been denied for much, much too long. Even as she had sobbed in her den back in camp, she had never allowed herself to truly cry. To allow the sobs that now let themselves go be heard, lest a Clanmate know that something was bothering her. She didn’t want them to worry about her, she wanted to simply worry about them. Deep down, she knew there were cats that could see through her shell like glass. Comfreyheart first came to mind, the dark molly perhaps being the single-pawed reason that she was able to keep her head on straight while assigning patrols most mornings. Thistlemask surely could as well, as they shared the deep grief that came from familial bonds being ripped away. There was no doubt that Minnowfin could as well, but simply thinking of the tom brought all too much of a pain to her heart. All of her hopes had turned to the sacrifice of his lives being enough to keep him alive, even if it meant a long recovery in the medicine den. Much as she had done for Mistlepaw, she would do for Minnowfin.

For Minnowfin…


The thought repeated itself within her mind more than once, a new hyperfixation instead of her grief. Emotionally and mentally exhausted paws dug into the ground, digging up the well-packed, tear-stained dirt into small mounds beneath her paws. Even if it meant crying as she walked, the tortoiseshell still had to move on. It was for Minnowfin, for all of Thunderclan. Even if she was unable to find any selfish reasons to bring herself to move on from Fourtrees, there would be no qualms as she had the thoughts of others being what fueled her paw-steps. Though they were quite slow as she moved, her ears pinned against her head as she gave one more look to that Great Rock. She could only assume that there was so much grief and joy that had filled that spot. Surely, there was no way that she was the only feline that felt the remorse as they would take their place upon it for the first time, knowing that it would be where they stood for as long as they were leader, till either death or eldership took their place.

It would be the scent of something new that would stir her senses to be more than the dreading pace that she had to her steps as she approached the Windclan border. The scent of the moors was one that she hadn’t been too familiar with, given that Thunderclan had no typical border to share with them. It was fresh, something new to learn and commit to memory as she kept along the edge to it, using the thunderpath that came into view as her guide. Her head stayed tilted towards the moors as she walked, trying to avoid the disgusting sting that the thunderpath’s smell often had to it. It would be her landmarker, though, and the sign of peace that she meant no harm. After all, she hardly expected Windclan to be able to recognize her as the deputy, much less the soon-to-be leader. Though, part of her could faintly smell the herbal scent of medicine cats as she walked, telling her she was for sure on the right path.

More thoughts served as a tsunami within her mind, crashing down upon her as Highstones came into view. There was no more time that she had to simply stew within her own brain, as the moon already found itself high in the sky. Shaking out her pelt to fling away the rest of her grief, a paw to her face muddied any of the dampness that splotched her fur from her tears. It was just enough to put all her grief away, to shove it into a hole in her mind that she could cover and forget about for the time being. Right next to the grief that she had for losing her kits would it exist, yet another grief that she would never truly be able to uncover and recover from having. It felt that all she had was loss, with whatever she gained having some type of grief to take away her joy.

The thoughts of her youngest kits filled her mind, with an anger quickly following it. How could she ever dismiss the joy that they brought her? Even as she drowned in the sorrow that came with the state of their father… each and every one of them were part of why she kept going. Briarpaw was so much like her mother, it was a reminder of who she was. Brightpaw was smart, and training well. Molepaw, while seeming somewhat shy, had such a vibrant spirit it was undeniable. Twilightpaw found his own path, and while Redpaw was chaotic in every sense of the word… oh, how they all were such beautiful creatures. All of them brought a warmth to her heart, and a smile to her face. It would be for them, too, that she made this journey. To give them a mother that would live for a long time, to give them something she didn’t get. Having the motherly advice of a cat who cared with their entire heart no matter what it was you did? Invaluable.

She was reminded of the warmth of a mother’s love as she stepped onto the thunderpath to cross, her amber gaze subconsciously checking for any visible signs of monsters. How tragic would it be, her mind oh so helpfully began, that Thunderclan’s new leader would perish on her way to receive her lives? The intrusive thought gripped at her mind, and a sarcastic chuckle echoed onto the empty path. How it had any sense of amusement to her was only twisted into her mind, but laughing it off was the best way she had to fend against it instead of feeding into the morbid fantasy. Even if it was all she could manage, it was much better than whatever else the alternative was. Silence filled the path ahead of her as she crossed easily, her pace staying just quick enough that she didn’t linger too long, always alert for the potential, invincible predator that existed as a threat for those daring to cross.

Soft grass once more met her on the other side, her body relaxing the moment the familiar texture was beneath her paws. Mottlerose found herself stopping to look back at the path she had just been crossing, for no particular reason other than to observe. Something about it pulled her gaze into a trance, something to fixate on for just a few heartbeats. Silence still filled the path, with the evening bringing with it the fact that the monsters were asleep. It was a blessing, with the thoughts of the loud noises they roared with filling her thoughts. Dismissing them with a rather exaggerated flick of her tail, the molly continued on. The coolness of the beginning of Highstones transitioned from the grasses, and even it was a much more welcomed sensation than that of the Thunderpath.

Standing outside of Mothermouth, Mottlerose once more froze. She knew once she went in, that would be it. There would be no more delaying, and she would emerge an entirely new feline. At this entrance, she would be leaving behind all that she knew as deputy. No more would she be a second-in-command, no more would she have the luxuries of a single life. No. Instead, she would be gaining the pain that came with an extended life, of being able to feel death multiple times. The thought of that alone brought bile to her throat that was so, so incredibly hard to swallow. Once more she thought of the silver and white tom that rested safely at home. Did he have to feel each life being taken away from him, one by one? Or did Starclan show him the mercy of taking them all at once? Part of her didn’t want to know the answer, but there was a curiosity that edged at the tip of her paws.

Hesitation continued from the tortoiseshell as she stared down the dark tunnel. It seemed that her paws were rooted to the ground, the questions racing through her mind at only increasing speeds. Was she ready for this? Could she truly serve her Clan as they deserved? Would she be able to bring herself to be known as Mottlestar?

The name felt so incredibly foreign on her tongue, she almost wanted to spit it out. But there was a legacy to uphold, one that she had been deemed worthy to carry on. A single paw stepped forward, and the very first name that came to her mind was Stoatstar.

Then another step. Minnowfin.

Followed by yet another. Morningsun.

Mistlepaw … Tigerpaw … Mosskit… Mothkit… Briarpaw… Molepaw… Brightpaw… Twilightpaw… Redpaw…

Each name accompanied her steps. They were what pushed her to go into the tunnel, the darkness swallowing her. All she had were her whiskers brushing against the sides of the cool stone, of her tail brushing against the top of the cavern to tell her she was going the right way.

Comfreyheart… Stormsong… Specklewish… Eveningmoon… Beetleshade… Fawnshine… Eggdrop… Thistlemask…

Every member of Thunderclan was named in her mind. They carried her paws down, away from the life she once knew, but at the same time, towards the new one she would lead. They wouldn’t leave her behind, and she wouldn’t leave them behind. No, they would all make this journey together. Even in the stars did those who passed on continue that journey, staying right by her side, watching down upon the Clan. She would never be truly alone, no matter how she felt in her den.

Before her, the moonstone appeared. The youthful awe that had once filled her when staring at it seemed to only return as she looked at its glory, the blue glow pulling her amber gaze in. For a moment, she wondered if the medicine cats felt the same sensation every time they came to visit the stone, or if it had similar burdens that the Great Rock and respective gathering places of leaders had. It was a life that she would never get to know, but one that she would share alongside the medicine cats. Leaders walked their place among the stars just as the herbal healers did, though in their own way. It would be her path forward, and though she still yearned to be able to run back to the comfort of her nest… She had made it this far.

Closing her eyes, the tortoiseshell willed herself forward. Gently, did she come to each of her paws, tucking them beneath her frame. Even in the greenleaf heat and humidity did a cooling chill keep itself around the moonstone, the sensation a welcoming lull as she felt the pull of the stars to bring her into a slumber. No more could she hesitate as she gave into its lull, her head lowering towards the stone. More and more she felt its song calling to her mind, and the breath she had held without knowing was released the moment her nose touched the stone, and she felt the sensations of the cave whisking away from her conscious mind.

---

She could feel it as her soul was pulled to the stars. An unfamiliar landscape flowed before her, though there was no doubt in her mind that it held the same welcoming aura as Fourtrees did. What felt to be a sea of shining pelts gathered together before her, with the small tortoiseshell being the focus of all their attention. Her mind flickered back to her moonstone journey as an apprentice, when she had been welcomed with the familiar sensation of home. But this felt… more than that. Something even more special, reserved for occasions such as this. Her eyes tried hard to focus on the sea of cats, to see if she could pick out any familiar faces, though there was something obscure about them as they gathered. It felt as if she knew all of them, but didn’t at the same time.

Briarthorn - Love
Written by Kitty

It felt as if the stars were reading her mind as she searched, with the first cat finally making their way forward. As if looking into a river’s stream to find her own reflection, Mottlerose was greeted with a cat that looked all too similar to herself. The she-cat made graceful strides in front of the crowd, clearly unbothered by all of the eyes that seemed to go to her pelt. Though longer fur and a slightly taller height separated the two, it was unmistakable that the two she-cats were reflections of one another. The deputy’s mouth could only hang open in awe and disbelief as she took in the sight, one that was burned into her memory from the time she was a kit. Tears dotted the corners of Mottlerose’s vision, and in a heartbeat, she had closed the distance to press her face into the other tortoiseshell’s fur.

”Mama…”

Her voice was so soft, so tiny. It was as if she was a kit again, finding the shelter of her mother’s side. The warmth she had yearned for for what felt like so many moons returned to her body, and for just a moment, the fear of everything going on seemed to leave her body. There was no doubt that the smaller tortoiseshell could spend hours, maybe even the rest of her life buried in her mother’s fur. Memories of a soft chamomile scent floated through her mind, and while she couldn’t truly smell it, it was there in her heart. She wanted to cry out as that comfort was taken away, with her mother taking a step back to look down upon her kit. It was impossible to confuse the look of pride and love on the late warrior’s face as she looked down upon her child for the first time since she had been a mere child. ”Mottlerose, I am so proud of who you have become.” The voice was warm and sweet like honey, reminding Mottlerose of the warmth Sunningrocks on the perfect leaf-fall day.

”Mama, I’ve missed you.” The molly was quick to murmur, yearning to return to the comfort she once knew. Her ears flattened against her head, her entire frame curling into a slight ball as she attempted to preserve the warmth of her mother. Meanwhile, the tortoiseshell before her straightened slightly, taking on a much more regal look, even with the soft gaze that she offered her daughter. ”I know, my dear. But I need to ask you an important question, Mottlerose. Are you ready to leave your life behind as a warrior, and receive your nine lives as the leader of Thunderclan?” It was a question that bore so much weight. So, so much more weight than she could ever even imagine. Every ounce of doubt crept once more up into her body, her ears pinning back against her head as her paws so desperately wanted to dig into the earth. She wanted to shout that she wasn’t ready, that she wasn’t worthy. Heavy breaths were quick to surface in response to the question, bringing the molly near panic attack, as if the grueling mental work to get to this point had been undone by a single question. Still, somehow, in some way, she found her answer. ”Yes.”

”Then I am also here to give you your first life. It isn’t one that you really need, but it is one that I want you to keep using, my dear. I am here to give you the life of love. You live and breathe every day knowing just how that love can uplift your clan, how everyone deserves a mother’s loving touch. As one yourself, I know you will use this life well.” Briarthorn dipped her head to the tortoiseshell before her, and just behind the tortoiseshell could Mottlerose spot some of her own children that had passed. The gesture showed the budding leader that her children were safe in the stars under the care of their grandmother, and a grinning sob choked out of the smaller molly for just a moment before Briarthorn placed her nose against Mottlerose’s head.

For just a moment, it felt as if all of that warmth, all of that love, had been ripped out of her. It left her breathless, her tears turning into a cough as all she wanted to do was breathe. The world around her felt dark, cold, icey. Loneliness was quick to sink into her mind, and she longed for nothing more than to run to a familiar face. It gripped at her, tearing her mind apart as the beginning of tears turned into a stream. It was the same heartbreak that she had felt when she watched her son give up his lives, the exact same heartbreak as she learned of the passing of her first litter of kits.

As the cold gripped at her body, slowly did that flicker of warmth return. It melted away the cold chill that had tried to make its way to her heart, and slowly warmed her small frame. Her chest ached, though what was first from the cold, was soon from the blazing heat that took its place. The warmth radiated from her very core out to all of who she was, building into the opposite of the frigidness she had felt just moments before. Now, she felt that familiar, comforting warmth, but also felt a raging fire behind it. All of the love that she had felt for her Clan and everyone around her had somehow grown even more, and what were tears, slowly were replaced by a smile. The thoughts of the clanmates that had even brought her to journey down to the Moonstone once more filled her mind. She loved each and every one of them, each and every cat with enough love to give multiple lifetimes over.

Once more able to stand to her paws, Mottlerose met her mother’s gaze. She wanted to say something, to give some kind of thanks as she looked to her mother. As she opened her maw to speak, it felt as if there were no words that she could find. There was nothing at all that she could say in the short span that she had with her mother that would fill the lost moments and time that she yearned to once more share with the taller tortoiseshell, for all of the time that she had lost to the cruelty of life. Instead, all that filled her was that blossoming warmth, the comfort of love. Her amber gaze met Briarthorn’s own, connecting mother and daughter once more in an unbreakable bond. It fueled the smile that rested on her face, a perpetual reminder of the joy that love could bring.

”I’ll be watching you from the stars. I always have been.” Briarthorn purred, giving words to an otherwise silenced Mottlerose. It was the sign she wanted to ignore, that she didn’t want to think about as it meant not seeing her mother again. The smaller molly stepped forward to once more bury her face into her mother’s fur, but as soon stopped by the other molly standing to her paws. Instead of the childish comfort that she yearned so desperately for, all that she got in turn was one more comforting lick to the top of her head, just a few more moments to hide in the fur of her mother’s chest, before the tortoiseshell would step into the crowd. It was a life of love that she would continue to lead in her mother’s honor, and arguably the easiest life that Mottlerose would receive.

Aspenblaze - Mercy
Written by Oryx

While sadness had been quick to fill Mottlerose’s heart as she watched her mother rejoin the crowd, at the same time, there was a renewed strength that now filled her paws. The stars always knew best, and that was only proven to be the point as they sent her the cat she had needed to see the most to give her her very first life. In that moment, she had needed to see her mother, giving Mottlerose the lesson that she would always be able to be there for her Clan when they needed her most. She was sure of it.

A tabby tom made his way forward, a surprising amount of scars marring his ginger pelt - an indicator and reminder of who he had been loyal to for much of his formative moons. He grimaced a little as he became the centre of attention, ears flattening a little in shame and embarrassment, still a little confused as to how he found himself partaking in the ceremony of a new ThunderClan leader. Regardless, he fixed the molly with a warm smile, green eyes reflecting the beauty of the territory around them.

"My name is Aspenblaze, and I was a warrior of RiverClan not too many moons ago," he bowed to the tortoiseshell, straightening up as he thought of the best way to retell his tale; visible regret haunting his gaze. "I... I trained with the Dark Forest, just before and during their reign. I was an apprentice to Vixenstar, and I supported their takeover of the clans. I thought... No, I was told, this was the best way to provide. RiverClan was starving-- our numbers were dwindling, we were dying. I was told that by training with them, I could be the best possible warrior for my clan. I could make my kin proud; I could make Jaystar proud."

"Clearly," Aspenblaze chuckled a little, shaking his head. "I was incredibly wrong. I couldn't have been more of a fool if I tried. The Dark Forest and Vixenstar didn't care for us, they only saw fit to ruin what little we had left. I watched Vixenstar ruthlessly maim cats just for talking back, and mercilessly strip the lives from others for slight mishaps. When the clans fought back, when Morningsun and all the others sacrificed their lives to save us, I knew I couldn't support them any longer. I fought for my clan, and I died for my clan. In that, I learned something too valuable to ever pass up." He moved closer to Mottlerose, closing his eyes and pressing his nose to her forehead.

As she listened to the tom share his story, she braced for what was to come. His appearance certainly drew in the attention that seemed to make him waver, with her head tilting in an initial curiosity. It was as he exposed his former affiliation to the Dark Forest that her ears flattened towards her head, but only for just a moment, as she truly observed the tom’s character. Starclan showed the truest form of each cat it held, and she gathered that the scars that tattered his fur were there to serve the reminder of who he had been in the past. The smile that had been on her maw from her mother widened for just a moment at the mention of her late son, who seemed to be a vibrant life that touched more than just Thunderclan.

Her mind began to wonder with just what the life was that she would be bestowed as he moved towards her, and Mottlerose herself closed her eyes as the starry nose met her tortoiseshell pelt.

"With this life, I give you mercy. I give you the ability to see past one's mistakes, and to show them compassion when others wouldn't. My clan and StarClan showed me mercy by not exiling me while I was alive, and for not forcing me out into the Dark Forest when I died. For that, I would die for anyone here a thousand times over." Aspenblaze took a step back, nodding at Mottlerose.

As the life was granted to her, she found herself clenching her jaw in anticipation. All of her muscles tensed as she prepared herself for the unpleasant feeling to come, to find out the decision of just how her second life would feel. Clenching tighter and tighter, her frame even trembled from just how she braced. There was a nagging sensation of being in trouble that crept up on her, the feeling of losing confidence and simply not knowing what fate would bring continuing to build in the pit of her stomach. It slowly rose into the back of her throat, and she looked to Aspenblaze for some type of sign, some type of knowledge, that she had actually been given her life.

"You'll make a great leader, Mottlerose. ThunderClan will do well with you," he murmured, shuffling back into the gathered cats, waiting to cheer for her at the end.

Somehow, everything that had been pent up into her frame was released at that very moment. It was as if what she was waiting for was an act of mercy - someone to say that everything was alright. Her muscles all released the tension that had been building, leaving them sore and throbbing as the tom stepped back into the crowd. She was quick to exhale as well, releasing the breath that had also been held in anticipation. In awaiting what the decision of her fate would be. As the tom made his way back into the crowd of cats, Mottlerose was quick to dip her head in gratitude.  She needed some time to catch her breath, to rid the soreness that had hit her muscles in response to the life. But at the same time, the weight was lifted completely off of her shoulders, gratitude filling her heart.

Was that what mercy felt like? Knowing that the fate of your life had been placed in the paws of somebody else, but spared, and given relief? It was a feeling that she herself hoped she would never have to experience, as to place herself in such a predicament would be far beyond what she could ever truly attempt to bring herself to do. But at the same time, there was a drive within her to bestow that sensation onto all those who deserved it. To release them of the burdens that tugged the soul down so far that they needed some type of escape, a second chance at life to prove that they were better than their past. It brought her mind instantly to Thistlemask, the she-cat being a perfect example of how an act of mercy could truly change a cat for the better.

Hazelpaw - Connection
Written by Karuna

It had been quite a while since Hazelpaw had spoken to a living cat. She had no living descendants of her own, such was the fate of those who died young. But she still cared for her Clan. Even if she was little more than a memory, not a trace of her even left in their hearts.

Perhaps a part of her was still bitter, left forever as the shadow of her sister. An emotion no cat would ever see. Perhaps that had been what destroyed her in the end.

But now was not a time to lament over her past failures. ThunderClan's new leader stood before her, and she had a life to give.

And so she stepped forward.

It came as a rather significant surprise to the tortoiseshell to see someone so young step forward from the crowd. Part of her had anticipated it to be one of her late children, with the face of Mistlepaw or perhaps even Mosspaw being the one to appear in front of her. Instead, it was one that was unfamiliar to her in her entirety. No trace of any siblings or features that may have found their way back into Thunderclan’s blood, and for a moment, she wondered if the young molly had ever even been part of Thunderclan at all, given that she had just received a life from a former Riverclan warrior.

"Mottlerose, my name is Hazelpaw. I was an apprentice of ThunderClan, hailing from a time before the Righteous Few had struck down. I was a shadow of ThunderClan, one who never gave words to my pain until it became my end. So now, I give you the life of communication. Remember, sometimes the things you keep inside can hurt you the most."

With her question answered, her heart immediately panged for the young she-cat. She had gone much, much too soon. The words she spoke were of a wisdom that should have been far beyond her years, one that unintentionally had struck the very core of the tortoiseshell molly. Wanting to provide some type of comfort, she bowed down to speak to her. It was at that time, though, that she felt the small nose of the late apprentice press against her fur.

It instantly felt as if her voice had been ripped out of her throat, taken away from her the second that the small nose pulled away from her head. As she opened her mouth to speak, no sound came, hidden behind a barrier. This was different than the stunned silence that she had felt just moments prior when conversing with her mother. It was so much worse, truly feeling as if there was no possible way for her to speak.

Desperately did the deputy attempt to fight against whatever it was that threatened her ability to speak. Mottlerose could feel her vocal chords straining, as if she were screaming at the top of her lungs. Though there was no sound, only silence. Desperately did the tortoiseshell want to tell Hazelpaw just how much she mattered, how much this life would make a difference. So strongly did she want to show her gratitude of being given the wisdom from such a young cat as every ounce of her being yearned to simply be able to talk.

It reminded her of the dark corners of her mind, the feelings that she had shoved deep, deep down. Away from the eye of anybody who may even be considering to know just what went on within her mind, all because she didn’t want to be a burden to her clanmates. Unshakable was the feeling of truly being a prisoner within her mind, and the only sound that finally seemed to be able to squeak out of the tortoiseshell was a broken whimper. It was practically inaudible, the start of a sound that was closed off much too soon before it could be given any more meaning than a simple accidental chirp. The panic of the situation slowly set in for the molly. Even if she had to bury her own thoughts and feelings, she needed to be able to talk to her Clanmates. To make sure that none of them felt forgotten, that none of them had to hide their pain like Hazelpaw did.

After what was much, much too long for her tastes did it feel like there was some type of breakthrough in being able to talk. All at once, did it feel like she had nothing to say at all, then thousands of words. It was much too many for her to be fully capable of speaking all at once, unless she wanted to spend the next eternity among the stars talking the ear off of every single cat that happened to come past her. Even then, something still held back her voice. As much as she wanted to talk, as much as the words were on the tip of her tongue, she couldn’t. Not quite yet.

And with that done, Hazelpaw stepped back, allowing the next cat to take her place.

It was just after that, that Mottlerose then found her voice. ”Hazelpaw!” She called out, and the once-quiet, once-shy tortoiseshell’s voice was strong. It was confident, loud, easily able to soar above the crowd of eager, starry cats. She had to call the attention of the young molly back to her. For just the split second that she had before the next cat would give her another life to survive did she catch the gaze of the late apprentice. ”Thank you. You know of a wisdom long beyond your youth… but you’ve given me an invaluable gift.” Her signature, motherly smile had replaced the panic that she felt moments before. Even if she wanted more time to comfort the apprentice, there was something about expressing her gratitude that filled her with a deep satisfaction. It may not have been the closure that she hoped to give the apprentice, but somehow, she knew it was the closure that she had needed.

Pricklebush - Justice
Written by Ash

Another leader, so soon? Pricklebush let out an irritated huff as he stepped forward, shouldering the previous cat out of the way in a not-so-gentle fashion. The tom was big and bulky, especially for a medicine cat. A tom with broad shoulders and a veritable mountain of spiky tan fur loomed over the small mottled she-cat. Piercing, sage-green eyes narrowed in apparent crankiness as he looked down at her. However, as much as he hid it under his gruff exterior... Pricklebush was worried. His Clan had gone through so many leadership changes so recently, and now another one was on the horizon. Not to mention the ShadowClan cats who had taken up so many resources, and left with very little words of thanks... What was to become of the Clan he grew up in?

Well, there would be time for him to sit and ponder amongst these other starry fools later. For now, he had a job again. Though he pretended to be inconvenienced... it was nice, interacting with the living. It was nice to feel like he had some use. Sitting around and lazing in fields was no lifestyle for a tom like him. ”Well, I suppose I ought to just cut to the chase,” Pricklebush began gruffly, his voice as deep and rumbling as his appearance suggested. ”Unlike some of these other cats... you don’t know me. And that’s fine. I’m Pricklebush; I was ThunderClan’s medicine cat many moons ago, to the misfortune of all involved.” His ear flicked as he considered the deputy before him. Something about the tint to her fur, and the look in her eyes... it was bringing back painful memories of his apprentice. Try as he might, he couldn’t be quite as rude as he’d like to be. So instead, he glanced to the side and swept his tail over his paws, trying not to look as sheepish as he felt.

The tortoiseshell deputy studied the tom as he had appeared, having flicked an ear as he shouldered his way past. There was no doubt to it that he had the bulk of a true Thunderclan cat, though there was amusement as he seemed to have the size that the most recent generation of Skyclan cats had been gifted with. It was even more amusing to her that he had been a medicine cat, with such a gruff looking tom having the responsibility of interacting with clanmates in some of their most intimate moments, for a moment she just wondered what trick the Stars had played on him. A small part of her felt that was how those who had been among the endless night skies got their entertainment after enough time, though that sarcastic view namely came from unhealed pain of her own losses.

”I am... sorry you had to take up this mantle so soon. StarClan has a way of forcing us into positions of power, whether or not we consider ourselves ready. I see they haven’t changed.” He let out a grumbling sigh. ”I’d blame Minnowfin, but I suppose that cats can’t choose when to get sick. I know that all too well as a medicine cat. Still, if I were alive, I’d come down and smack the illness out of him. No one deserves so little preparation for such a big task.” That’s quite enough sentiment for now, you fool. She isn’t Mossbloom. Give it up and give her the life already. His eyes refocused, returning to Mottlerose.

She dipped her head in gentle acknowledgment of his apology, though it was undeniable how much her heart hurt at the mention of her beloved Minnowfin. That hurt seemed to be patched in the true way a medicine cat only could with the comment of using ‘percussive maintenance’ to get rid of what had ailed her mate, and a small giggle managed to work its way from her vocal chords. ”To be fair… Neither did he. He was the apprentice of Stoatstar, and the moment he was made a warrior, found himself in my ro- former role.” She caught herself as she spoke about being the deputy, realizing all too quickly that it would be her life no longer. There was no going back, especially with how many lives she had under her belt.

Pricklebush shook his head. ”Regardless. I have a reason to be here, and I intend to see it through.” The large tom stepped forward, the height difference between them made even more apparent by the close proximity they now shared. ”I give you this life for justice. Kindness is all well and good, but unfortunately, there are some who will take advantage of it. Love cannot solve every problem. Heck, even talking can’t solve everything. Some matters can only be fixed with tooth and claw. Some cats will never see reason.” The tip of his tail flicked as he looked seriously at Mottlerose. ”Though ThunderClan has been through many hardships, it must remain strong. No Clan must be allowed to take advantage. Your Clanmates are your children, Mottlerose. Protect them. And if any are wronged... well, you know what you must do. You are no fool. Fear no enemy and give no quarter to the criminal. Let justice prevail in your interactions, when push comes to shove, and your Clan will thrive for moons to come.”

The towering tom leaned down, brushing his nose roughly against Mottlerose’s. Her first instinct was to cry out at the pain that crashed upon her body as their noses touched, the yowl of pain accompanying the molly’s body wishing to crash to the ground. Every part of her felt as if it was being tormented with pain, the wounds of those she knew had no right to receive them now being inflicted upon her. Thousands upon thousands of wounds, ranging from the ache in her stomach of poison to the sharpness of claws raking down her pelt. All she could see were the faces of those wronged, who deserved justice. Cloverheart, Riverclan’s murdered medicine cat. Dovefrost, Thunderclan’s former medicine cat, a face she had once known. Her mind thought of all those that Dawkhawk had taken, even though she didn’t know them. The helplessness of apprentices who were lost to battles, and for a moment, Hazelpaw came to her mind.

For a short time, she truly wanted to give into the pain, wanted to give up her fight and surrender. But there was one image that flashed before her eyes, and that was the idea of her dearest Comfreyheart being thrown into the fray of battle. The she-cat was practically a daughter to the tortoiseshell, and the idea of watching her be brutally injured and marred by a battle had had no place filled her veins with a rage. What had been cries of pain from the small tortoiseshell turned into a scream of pure, livid anger. It was that anger that then fueled her, a rare emotion to course through her frame. All those that had suffered that pain… they deserved someone to avenge that pain. In senselessness, someone needed to have the sense to punish. As she rose to her paws, that blazing fire inside of her slowly calmed. Though she kept it burning, deep in her heart. Her amber gaze felt a bit deeper as she looked to the large tom’s own, catching her breath as the pain slowly ebbed from her body.

Pricklebush stepped back, graciously giving the deputy a moment to recover from the life given to her. Again, this was where he had made some sort of scathing quip in the past-- but for some reason, no such words could pass through his teeth. She looked like Mossbloom... and the motherly ferocity that had shone in her eyes could remind him of one other. The former leader whose love of her kits and Clanmates was so strong that she had sacrificed her life to give them another chance to live. Blizzardshine. ”Well,” he said after a moment, ”that’s all I can do for now. Useless in death as I was in life. Better let these other star-faced idiots have their turn giving you prissy little gifts like love and warmth.” Though he scoffed, there was enough of a joking, friendly tone to his voice that Mottlerose could tell he bore her no ill will.

Mottlerose shook her head playfully as the tom gave his parting words, namely mentioning his uselessness. She knew it was all in jest, but going along was part of the fun. After all, it helped soften the blow of the life that she had just endured. Even with the pain no longer actively coursing through her entire being, she still felt its dull ache, a reminder of the task the life had given her. ”Thank you, Pricklebush. Though, I don’t think I’ll need another life of love, given I already got that one.” She teased back to the starry tom, her voice a bit airy with the weariness the lives had started to bring her. Even with that weariness, she would continue.

”You’re welcome. See ya around... or not. You’d best use all nine of those lives for your Clan, all right?” And with those parting words, the enormous spiky tom somehow faded into the crowd of stars, no longer visible-- but likely still watching from a distance.

”I will. So long as the Stars let me, you won’t be seeing me back for awhile.”

Ivystar - Dignity
Written by Maple

Sitting on a slight hill a few fox-lengths away was a fluffy silver tabby, feathered tail billowing behind her as she stood to greet the upcoming ThunderClan leader. Before she even had an opportunity to advance, however, the tom before he shoved into her shoulder. Rather than falter or be pushed to the side, she rooted her paws into the ground and fixed him with a tense stare, watching as he retreated to the line of StarClanners gathered to witness the ceremony. She’d deal with him later.

With a flick of her tail, she lifted her chin and continued toward Mottlerose, greeting her with a simple nod. Truthfully, Ivystar couldn’t be bothered to care much for a leader of any Clan other than her own. However, she knew that this was a sacred, important moment, and she certainly had advice and wisdom to offer… So why not. This was her duty now as a StarClanner, after all.

The leader in question had watched with a particularly curious and keen gaze as Pricklebush had shoved a cat out of the way, and for just a moment, she wanted to open her mouth to apologize. After all, the way they seemed to carry themselves reflected that this would be no simple feline that he just so happened to have moved. No, their posture read to her as if they were something more. Another leader, perhaps? By the way they looked, her mind only could presume they had Shadowclan or Riverclan origins.

”Mottlerose, the nine lives of a leader are an honor that only a few ever get to possess. It was through grit, determination, and love of your Clan that got you to where you are today, and not many can say that they have held as strong and steadfast as those who find themselves in your position. So, I present to you the life of dignity.” Tail tip twitching as self-doubt began to creep in, Ivystar chastised herself internally. That was not the purpose of her presence.

Curiosity still struck the budding leader as she had yet to find out the exact identity of the molly in front of her. The silver tabby bore resemblance to much of Riverclan’s cats, the blue eyes reminding her of a few of the cats that she had previously encountered at the gatherings. It had, at the very least, narrowed down who she had believed them to be. Though, they were still certainly a cat from beyond her time in the forest, as surely she would have recognized the late leader at a gathering. Her head tilted to the side for just a moment as she listened to the life that she was to be given, just the slightest bit of curiosity nipping at her paws. Dignity wasn’t a life that she had known to be given, but even as she doubted for just a moment, Mottlerose quickly understood why it would be necessary.

”The point is that you carry the hard work and commitment of all those that came before you. You have an obligation to honor it, and to honor yourself. You can no longer remove yourself from the virtues of your position, so respect them. Respect yourself. Don’t let doubt creep in. You will lead well.” Ivystar then touched her nose to that of the molly’s before her, feeling the power of the life flow from one being into the next.

Mottlerose braced the starren earth beneath her for the pain that would somehow come from this life. It felt as if there was an overbearing weight on her shoulders yet again, the one that had even prevented her from her eventual sulk to Highstones in the first place. Her mind instantly went to Stoatstar, the first ever leader she had interacted with. The two-toned tom had been small in frame, much like she was. She remembered the youthful wishes to live up to his legacy one day, to one day be able to fill his pawsteps. She had seen the burden of leadership on him from a young age, as she saw it up close every time she had brought him a piece of prey, or practically threatened to sit on the tom to get him to sleep. For just a moment, she chuckled through the growing heaviness on her body.

Minnowfin followed soon after. She wanted to live up to the leadership that her mate had led them with, had shown the Clan the way of care. The life that had been given to her plucked at her anxiety that she would be unable to live up to the two toms before her, unable to give herself in earnest to her Clan. But it was the face of another cat, an entirely other one, that broke through that doubt. She thought of Perchstar at the last gathering, looking towards her with concern. She knew it came from worry over whether or not Thunderclan was alright, but the thought of an allied clan worrying for Thunderclan?

Confidence found its way to her paws, and her head lifted higher. As it ebbed away, she turned that weight into a strength. By no means was this life as painful as the rest of them, as its pain had been a fight that she had been fighting since before she had even arrived to the Moonstone. But now, now the molly stood as if she were a leader. She felt it in her paws, from nose to tailtip. Small as she was, she knew it was even the tiny leaders that could be the mightiest voices.

Meeting the gaze of the silver tabby before her, she dipped her head in silent gratitude. It felt much more customary than speaking, as after all, this was a cat of equal status to her own. Perhaps still greater, as the one before her had ascended to the stars. Nevertheless, she felt the confidence, the purpose, of greeting a colleague. One who had grown to knew her pain intimately.[/color]

Sagewhisker - Resilience
Written by Ebony

From amongst the sea of cats, another figure slowly made his way forward. He was a stout tom, small in stature, but with sharp features and powerful muscles. He held his head and tail high in pride, green eyes burning into the pelt of the future leader. His pelt was dark, tabbied and pale grays, blacks, and browns – the sort of pattern perfect for stalking in the marshes in the late night.

It was a figure that the molly certainly didn’t recognize. However, the way he carried himself was unmistakable. There was a certain pride that always came with a leader that had been around a long time, that had grown comfortable with their role. Deep down, the tortoiseshell hoped that she too would have that pride. It was certainly something to be able to stand tall and walk through the pain and misfortune of life, all while being the one your Clan looked to, and not let it drag you down too harshly. Mottlerose held out a deep hope that she would be able to obtain that one day.

As she continued to observe the tom, the second realization hit her in the way he looked. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was of Shadowclan descent, as his pelt would otherwise be out of place in any other Clan. Sure, there were plenty of black cats that resided within Thunderclan, and Mottlerose herself had a fair share of the dark pigment. But something about the way the dark tabby swirled about reminded her of what she had been told of their neighbor on the other side of the Thunderpath.

”My name is Sagewhisker,” he began, wasting little time. ”I was once leader of ShadowClan, and alive to have seen the last great flood to sweep our home. I would like to thank you for what help ThunderClan offered to my kin.” He took a step forward, stars shimmering faintly as he moved and touched his nose gently to her head. ”With this life, I give you the gift of resilience. Use it well to see your clan through the most difficult nights, and to keep to what you know to be true.”

Her suspicions were confirmed as the tom introduced himself. There was a look of surprise on her maw as he spoke of his existence being during Shadowclan’s last flood, as she now understood just why Starclan had seen him fit to give her a life. After all, she had just harbored his old Clan for the most recent flood to bring them away from their home. She sat reverently as he spoke, giving a dip of her head as he expressed his gratitude for just what she had done. In all honesty, no questions had ever circulated in her mind when it came to helping Shadowclan when they told her of what had happened. It was a mercy she had hoped the other Clans would show to them if they ever found themselves in a similar situation.

Perhaps it was a good thing that she had sat, as the next life jolted through her. It felt as if a flood itself had crashed along her body, wanting to send her flying. But something held her claws to the ground, her body rooted in strength to the starry territory beneath her. As the invisible raging rapids waged their war in the attempt to uproot the tortoiseshell’s frame, she found herself digging deeper and deeper to stay still. She had to stay strong. She had to be resilient.

Heavy panting was all that could be heard as she shut her eyes tight, focusing all of her strength and ability on staying where she was. For just a moment, everything seemed to spin. Every single one of her lives had wanted to take a heavy toll on her, a struggle to survive each and every one. Well, they are supposed to last an entire lifetime… She thought for just a moment, her jaw now clenching as she continued to feel battered by whatever unearthly presence was there to test her strength. To teach her the life lesson that had just been bestowed upon her, transforming into one of her next lives.

Darkspirit was the first of her clanmates to spark into her mind. The tom had been painted into the shadow of his father, Dawnhawk. It was to no fault of his own that the tom bore his father’s blood. Right behind him did the images of Dayquill, Comfreyheart and Fawnshine come to her mind. All four of them, born of a mother who had cared for them deeply but then disappeared, and of a father that had scorched the forest in a stronger blaze than any fire truly could. None of them deserved the stigmas and heartbreak that came from never truly knowing a loving set of parents that saw them throughout their lives.

They were resilient. Even when their bloodline dictated that they would be harsh creatures of the forest, they showed the exact opposite. While Dayquill bore an unfortunate physical resemblance to Dawnhawk, he was such a kind spirit. A tom that she often leaned on and found herself asking to lead patrols when she had others to attend to. Comfreyheart was practically her daughter, having endured the loss of her closest friend at the same time Mottlerose had lost her son. Not to mention, Fawnshine, as their medicine cat, had dealt with so much. Her mentor had betrayed one of the sacred oaths taken by a medicine cat, and not to mention, that oath had broken yet another part of the code. She had to stand strong as her mentor left his life behind to be with his love in Skyclan. Even further did Fawnshine have to endure learning of her mentor’s murder.

A great appreciation rippled through Mottlerose as she thought of every major trial that had happened in the lives of her Clanmates. All of them had pulled through, all of them had carried on. Even with the turmoil that seemed to never end, all of Thunderclan was filled with such kind, strong hearts. It was like they were the roots of the trees they walked along in the forest. All of them were sturdy, all of them were strong. All of them were resilient to whatever it was that would be thrown at them.

Finally, it ebbed away. It left her still panting, and her paws aching as she had flexed her claws to a near-breaking point. But she still survived, she stood strong. She would be the rock that held Thunderclan together in rough times, the figure that would be there to survive any storm that was thrown their way. She had to be. It was much of what a mother was for her kits - the one they could always count on to be there, the one to always know that things were and that things would be okay. It was how she had thought of Stoatstar when she was younger, though she had sadly lost that image of leadership with how times had changed. But the molly promised herself that she would bring that image back. After all, it was the least that the Clan could expect from her.


Kitefire - Determination
Written by Ripped

The russet she-cat that emerged from the star-speckled foliage was far from imposing. Her lithe frame and delicate paws were overshadowed by the large ears perched atop her head. Reminiscent of the life she had lived, despite no longer being a necessary feat, the Starclan cat's head tipped slightly to one side. As she faced Mottlerose, the strange flickering of fiery emotion behind her yellowed gaze became quite evident. It was nearly impossible to pick out the many emotions that swirled in the depths of her eyes. One thing was certain, however, and it was that the late warrior knew why she was here - what she had to do.

"Mottlerose is it? I doubt you've heard few good things about me, if any cat in Thunderclan cared to speak my name but I'm Kitefire. Kit of Smallbean of Windclan and Cedarheart of Thunderclan, and local clan traitor. I might have ended my life across the river but clearly never stopped watching Thunderclan." She snorted softly, eyes flickering over Mottlerose's pelt. Kitefire shook her head ever so slightly to dispel the memories that arose. This wasn't the time to share her backstory or sort through moments that even she herself had yet to reason with, "I come to give you the life of determination."

As the molly stepped forward, for just a moment, Mottlerose felt some sort of recognition from her appearance. There was just something about it that she had recognized from somewhere. At first, she had presumed it was the tilt of the head, one that the Thunderclan cat often did herself when listening intently to another. In fact, it called her to awareness of her own body, realizing she was mirroring the exact movement. It was once the russet she-cat announced her lineage that she finally had realized just what had signaled the synapses of her mind to feel as if she had known her - she was the daughter of Windclan’s current deputy. A mental note was quickly made that perhaps at the next gathering, should memory serve her, she would note to Smallbean that he had been able to meet her.

The words spoken by Kitefire had come after a brief pause and were spoken with such conviction they hung heavily in the air. So many things about her own life had been uncertain, marked by a lack of direction since birth. She had become determined to survive, and through Jaystar, determined to find purpose in the world. It guided her paws in the many directions she had ran. But it would lead Mottlerose in a whole different way in leadership. Padding closer, she stretched to gingerly touch her nose to the new Thunderclan leader's. Sparks danced and fierce lightening coursed through Mottlerose. Wild and untamable like lightening before thunder, yet channeled, finding direction. As it faded, the unrelenting sensation transformed into something invigorating.

Such a chaotic emotion seemed to have no place to go within the molly as it brewed its storm. It needed some type of path, lest it drive the host insane. Her amber gaze had shut with a particular concentration on the rest of her features, her maw scrunching slightly as she put all of her energy into channeling that very storm. The surge of energy, of direction that she soon felt was like one she had never felt before. Even during her apprenticeship, when she had been so eager to make sure Stoatstar was taken care of, had there been only a fraction of the desire that coursed through her in that moment.

Before her eyes flashed every single apprentice that she knew. The youthful drive to complete the task that they were given, no matter how many attempts it took. It was a passion that she had seen best in Beetleshade. As an apprentice, the young spitfire seemed relentless in her pursuit to make her mentor and her Clan proud. It was that ambition, that drive, that had set her out from the rest of her Clanmates. Even if she didn’t interact too much with the young warrior, that drive had never seemed to vanish. It was now that Mottlerose knew exactly what to name that unyielding desire to prove herself - it was determination.

Thoughts of Specklewish had followed not long after that. He was another one of her apprentices, and admittedly, it had been the one that she struggled with the most. Having the disability that he did meant that training him was much more difficult on the both of them. But what she had appreciated the most about the tom was the fact that, no matter what happened, no matter how hard the moment was, he would see the task through to the end. While there had to be alternative ways of hunting that they had thought of in order to best help him succeed, as well as alternative battle methods, all of it just highlighted the drive that the warrior had.

The rest of her apprentices continued to float by in her mind. Eveningmoon, the first one she had ever been trusted with. Guiding a tom who seemed to have lost his own path for a time, only for him to blossom into a great, guided warrior. Stormsong, who may as well have been a son to her. She saw his determination in everything that he did, even when it came to often getting himself in trouble with predators. Not to mention, all of her children flashed before her eyes. Each of them showed that same passion in their training, and that was one that she wouldn’t let be ignored.

As her eyes once more opened, she met the equally passionate amber eyes of Kitefire. She now understood just what it truly meant to be determined. Having already endured the near-torture of the six lives before this one, the first use of the determination she had just been given would be to see it all through to the end.

Even beyond that, the molly felt a great fire within her to lead Thunderclan with the veracity and passion that it deserved out of a good leader. Small in height as she was, it didn’t mean that she had to be small in spirit, not at all. The late warrior that stood before her was more than enough proof of that fact, one that she would take with her beyond just this small encounter. Her head was held high as she watched the red-tinted feline take her place back among the group of starry cats, her not-quite transparent pelt being one that she now could easily spot when it came to the rest of the group.

Dustcloud - Faith
Written by Maple

Next to approach was Dustcloud, her once frail and fragile body restored to its youthful, glowing stature. Though shorter than average, she stood with a sense of pride that was evident in her posture and the way that she walked toward to soon-to-be ThunderClan leader. Many scars still laced her blue-grey coat, for they were part of who she was and what built her into the warrior she was. A gentle, warm smile that brought memories to those who visited her as kits was painted onto her maw, and she flicked a tail in friendly greetings toward the molly. Once she was near enough, she dipped her head respectfully and took a seat just a tail-length or two from Mottlerose.

”It’s good to see you again, dear. Let this be the final time for many moons, hmm?” Clearing her throat, Dustcloud prepared to deliver the heart of her message. ”Mottlerose, the journey you are about to embark on is a long, difficult, and at times seemingly an impossible one. You will encounter countless obstacles, and there will be times where you feel lost and confused. I say this not to scare you, but to remind you that there will be times of need. In those times, turn to your faith.” Another flick of her tail sent a flurry of stars tumbling in the other molly’s direction, scattering about. It was warm, and comforting. A symbol of the power of faith, if Mottlerose chose to perceive it that way.

”I’m glad the Stars have returned your youth.” The small tortoiseshell had commented in greeting towards Dustcloud, a twinkle in her eyes to send the jest with warmth towards the former Thunderclan elder that she had once known. Her own tail stood high, the familiar sight of someone that she actually had known during their time in the Forest being comforting.

As the flurry of stars had been sent her way, it was nearly impossible to control her instincts. Pupils dilated in undiluted wonder, and immediately it was as if she was back to being a kit. Excited, uncontrollable paws attempted to play and paw at the flecks of light, a childish giggle even erupting from her chest as the comforting warmth touched her paws. It was like playing with the fireflies that would sometime flutter around the camp during the warm evenings of Newleaf and Greenleaf. At the same time, that comfort reminded her just of the power of the Stars, and just what all they could do in times of need.

”Have faith, not only in the stars above you to carry you through those hard times, but in yourself, in your Clan, and in those surrounding you. Your faith will still be there even when it feels like all else has failed. When you can rely on nothing or nobody, rely on your faith.” Dustcloud then touched her nose to the molly’s head, a distinct empty feeling pouring into her being. It was cold, dark, and frightful. It was only a moment in time, though, and was quickly replaced by a soothing warmth, akin to warm river water flowing over one’s paws and the gentle sound of birdsong in the distance. It was comforting, and while it faded, the feeling never quite left completely.

As much as the molly hated to admit it, there had been great times of her faith being tested. For most of her youth, her belief in Starclan had been something that was simply an undeniable truth, a part of her life that never came into question. She had asked the stars for many nights during her kithood why they had to take away her parents from her, thinking that it was Mottlerose herself that had done the wrongdoing. Not at all had she once blamed them for the transgressions or actions that ended up causing some type of pain.

That had changed when the stars had been ripped away, with the Dark Forest descending like a suffocating blanket upon the forest at that fateful gathering. It was permanently burned into her mind, and all she had wanted to do was find solace in the starry sky. Directly had they been taken away, her faith beginning to falter in them as the fact that they weren’t as ever-present as she had once believed was forcibly shoved into her gaze. There was no way for her to doubt the possibility that Starclan could abandon them at that point, as there was no way for them to be reached.

It was that distinct feeling of emptiness that coursed through her for a short time that recalled her exactly back to the time she had almost lost her way. Learning of the fact that her son would be the one to give up his life, in exchange for the stars to return, had made her cold. Vengeful against Starclan for a time, even. Why did they have to take her son? It was a question that she still hadn’t found the answer to. Seeing Dustcloud before her only further reminded her of that, as she had been the other cat forced to give up her life in exchange for them to once more be able to communicate with the rest of their ancestors.

Perhaps that was why it was so fitting that Dustcloud was the one to give her the life of faith.

Having completed her duty, Dustcloud backed away a few steps and dipped her head respectfully once more. ”I’m proud of you, Mottlerose. You’ll prove an excellent leader.” With that, she turned and rejoined the gathered cats and sat to watch the remainder of the ceremony.

Watching as the once-more youthful she-cat found her place among the group of indistinguishable generations of cats, just one more, stray star seemed to float towards Mottlerose. As it landed on her nose, her head dipped in respect towards the group. ”Thank you, Dustcloud.” Even if she couldn’t spot the molly anymore among the crowd, her gratitude was more than a simple formality.

Morningsun - Compassion
Written by Splotch

The final cat strode out of the fog with a spring to his step. Familiar green eyes met Mottlerose’s, and they twinkled at the connection. The silvery tom had not aged since he departed from the forest all those moons ago. His frame still held youth, though his eyes shone with wisdom that any cat below would only dream of having. Though, that wisdom came at the price of his life.

No matter what happened in her time, whether every sense was taken for her or bestowed, whether she lost her entire memory to time or kept every single moment, she would always be able to recognize the tom that strode forward last. Instantly, tears threatened to well into the molly’s amber gaze as she took in the sight before her. Mottlerose believed she had held it together rather well throughout her entire leader ceremony, enduring the mixture of the pain and the giftful bliss of every single life that she had been given. None of them had made her cry quite like this.

”My baby…” She managed to whimper out. Just as her voice had been frail in seeing her mother again, was she frail in seeing her son again. Her sun, the one that had brought a vibrant light to her world. Instantly her mind went back to that dark day when he was taken, when he had to sacrifice his life in order to bring back the Stars. Had it not been for that sacrifice, would this meeting have even been possible? It was a question that she truly didn’t want to answer. For the time being, she was just thankful to see him again.

Even as she appeared to be a wreck, the tortoiseshell took her time to regain her composure. Emotions certainly had their place, and it would be perhaps the only time one of her children would truly get to see her cry. For all the others? She had to remain strong. Mistlepaw had certainly seen her weep tears of joy, but there was a sorrow behind these tears. One that the mother knew she would likely never get over. Still, there was a reason she let them flow. If there was ever a better time to attempt to heal the deeply-rooted wound that came from losing him all too soon, it would be now. Seeing him again, burning this moment in particular into the deepest corners of her mind to pull from when she lost the feeling of his soft fur snuggled against her belly. It dried her tears as she looked upon him, unable to help the tiny smile that she cracked at seeing just how regal he looked in his star-illuminated frame.

Morningsun halted a tail length from Mottlerose. Waiting for her to find her footing, her confidence again. Seeing her on her paws, the young cat stepped forward. ” I had hoped this day would take longer to arrive.” Morningsun admitted, head dipping sheepishly. ” But, there are some things that not even StarClan can control or perceive.” His tail wrapped neatly around his paws, the fluffy pelt of his obscuring them from sight. ” And when that happens, you must have compassion for others.”

With a grace he hadn’t had in his living moons, Morningsun glided forward to touch noses with his mother. Hesitating a moment before, he added, ” I was never good at this, but compassion should have its limits. Know when you must put your clan ahead of others. Even yourself.” As if finishing indulging in something, Morningsun made the connection. After a long moment, he parted, shaking off bits of stars in his pelt.

Her ears had pressed back against her head just slightly at the sheepish admission that he would get to see his mother among the stars, inheriting her lives as leader. It was more in bashfulness and modesty than anything else, as the tortoiseshell still struggled to accept the fact that she was even remotely worthy enough of the position. So many other cats had come to her mind that could have easily taken her place instead, standing exactly where she was now, and leading the Clan just as well, or even better than shew would ever be able to. There was a pang in her heart as she realized most of the cats that came to her mind were gone, among the very crowd that would soon be cheering her on.

Another pang followed as she listened to the star-bestowed wisdom that was spoken to her. It wasn’t that she was remotely upset that she was receiving the wisdom from the one that she should be giving it to - no, not at all. It was still that grief of knowing that he was gone, that it was circumstance that had allowed him to have it in the first place. But she understood it in full. She accepted its teachings, her head tilted to the side as it always did when she was listening, also tilted slightly upwards to be able to best look at her son, who was certainly a fair bit taller than she was.

As their noses touched, there was a soothing warmth that once more radiated throughout her body. It was much like love, but this one was different. While love was a flame that focused at the very center of her heart, this warmth was much more like an aura. She knew it was meant for others, just as love had been, but there was nothing selfish at all about this life. Just as there was no paid to come alongside it.

Memories of the first time she became a mother filled her mind. Each of her first five kits, snuggled up to her belly tightly. The deep level of care that had radiated throughout her entire heart and body for them once more became a physical feeling, a need. Where they called home in the forest was such a cruel place, one that was filled with so many powers beyond her control that could easily bring harm upon their helpless forms. Mottlerose allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of knowing she would care for them, the drive to give her entire heart for them. Memories of the sleepless nights of grooming them and trying to hush their cries that they didn’t even understand filled her mind, and the small smile that had began widened into something more.

It was the memory of her next litter that gave her that very same feeling that followed up the first. Being a mother meant giving yourself to your children in their entirety, even if it meant sacrificing yourself. That was the essence of compassion, as she had come to understand it. Knowing that, no matter what hardships were faced, that they could be taken care of. They all deserved someone to smile towards them, to care for them. For just a few moments, the molly thought about how she had went right to the new Shadowclan leader’s side, instantly beginning to groom the very-well full-grown tom upon seeing him muddied and washed up on the edge of her territory.

Perhaps it was why receiving that life was so blissful. It was one that she had lived out, her heart being given to every single member of her Clan ahead of herself. It was in an act of selfish compassion that she had even traveled to Highstones alone in the first place, wanting to spare her clanmates of even just a little bit of the discomfort that came from wishing they could do something to ease the pain that went on in her heart. There was no way that they possibly could, and she wanted to spare them from that feeling. In a way, she wanted to also spare herself from the feeling that she had caused them that very pain.

Even with the thoughts that swirled in her mind, the tortoiseshell allowed herself to relish in the warmth that the life of compassion gave. Out of all of the lives she had been gifted, this was the easiest of them all. Even as it seemed that her son was indulging in being able to yet again share a moment with his mother, it was her too, that was indulging. There was no drive for her to move away from the small embrace until he made the first move, and there was just a single tear of joy that had beaded the corner of her eye as she watched the stars fall away from his frame.

” With all your lives within you, there is one more thing StarClan must give you.”

Head raised, he took a deep breath. ” From this moment on, you are no longer known as Mottlerose.” A piece of identity gone, the she-cat devoid of a name in this brief but eternal moment. ”By the power given to me by StarClan, you will be known as Mottlestar. May you lead ThunderClan with loyalty and love.”

She held her head high as he said those words. There was a ripple of a chill that was sent throughout her body, a tingling as whatever ethereal transformation that had been bestowed upon her was completed. She didn’t quite feel as if she had been born anew, but it was clear that something about her was different. No longer was she the same she-cat that had first made the sorrowful trip to the Moonstone, but she was still the mother that cared deeply for her Clan. No more was she simply just the mother of ten amazing kits, no more was she just the mate to a tom that had given his life for his Clan as well. The motherhood within her extended beyond all of that - to all of Thunderclan.

Dipping her head, she could only say one thing. ”Thank you, my sweet Sun. I love you.”

Behind him, the former cats stepped forward into a half circle. Their pelts blended in color and shone until whiteness overtook Mottlestar’s vision. Voices, which she knew, melded into a chorus of one.

Mottlestar!

Mottlestar!

Mottlestar!

---

Soon, the crowd of stars before her faded. They all combined into one holy entity, and the star-studded landscape she stood in combined with them. All into one brilliant flash of white, ultimately going dark. Senses of cold, the smell of many cats, and the ache of having rested in the same position soon returned to the new leaders’ body. While her muscles wanted to complain for the way she had found herself against the Moonstone, there was a new feeling that echoed through her body. Something entirely foreign to her. It was the feeling of youthfulness once again, one that she hadn’t even recognized had begun to fade from her. Even more, there was a sensation of determination, of calmness, of acceptance.

No longer was she Mottlerose. She now truly was Mottlestar, in name, in the nine lives that now radiated throughout her. Getting to her paws slowly, the she-cat took in everything around her. The gentle glimmer of the moonstone was comforting, something to focus her gaze on as the ebb of her connection to the Ancestors that twinkled above still drew her in. It was a reminder of what had just been taken place, the sacred oath she had sworn, and the gifts they had just given her. For one last time would she allow herself the guilty pleasure of enjoying it all.

All of the lives that she had just received passed through her mind as well. Love, mercy, connection, dignity, justice, resilience, determination, faith, and compassion. A set of principles to guide her, a set of lives to allow her to lead. Some given by cats that she had known and loved with her heart, others given by those that she had never even heard of before. Generations of history, lessons, and love were all funneled into her as she had been deemed worthy to be a leader. It was such an odd concept to be the special face in a crowd when she had spent so long identifying special faces, that not once had she stopped to think that it could be her own that was special. A quiet chuckle echoed off of the walls of the cave she resided in at the thought.

Mottlestar rose fully to her paws, now ready to begin her journey home. As she began to leave, her head quickly filled once more with reflection. The life of love, given to her by her mother, would be the easiest to live out. In a way, it made sense that it was the first life she had received. If there was anything that the tortoiseshell would be remembered for once it was time for her to find her place among the sky, it would be her heart. The care and compassion that she extended freely to each and every cat that she passed, that she acknowledged. Her first life resembled who she was, what had made her special. Mama, I promise you, I’ll make you proud. I’ll give the mother’s love to every cat that I meet, I’ll give my love whole-heartedly to my Clan. Everyone needs a mother to love them, and I’ll be honored to be Thunderclan’s mother. She thought, sending the silent message to Briarthorn. She had been quite surprised to see the tortoiseshell, having made peace long ago that she would never get to see her mother again. At least, not in a form that she would get to recall.

After her life of love, came the life of mercy. Mottlestar flicked her tail at the memory of the scar-tattered tom, at the humility he had presented about his past. Had they met in life, the she-cat most likely would have found herself at odds with the tom, and perhaps it was for the best that they hadn’t. But at the same time, his lesson was an important one to share. She herself believed in second chances, that cats could fall into a life of depravity but still be worth saving and acting as a Clanmate. Thistlemask was the perfect example of that, her own deputy. The she-cat had such a rough beginning to life, being forced into a world that knew nothing other than violence. But it was through Stoatstar that she had been given a home and transformed into a warrior, now one that acted with confidence and dedicated herself whole-heartedly to her Clan. For a moment, she wondered what could have happened if Shadowclan had gotten to her first. The way the Fallen Order had attacked them was certainly inexcusable, and for a moment, her heart squeezed at the idea that a young Thistlemask would have been executed for her crimes. Instead, she had been shown mercy and found haven within Thunderclan. Thank you, Aspenblaze, and thank you, Stoatstar, wherever you may be. You both have shown me how mercy can save a cat’s life. I hope I’ll be able to see that through. Yet again, she reflected.

It was near impossible to stop the single tear that slipped from her eye as she thought about Hazelpaw. An apprentice, taken from the world much too soon, all because their troubles stayed too close to their heart. The life of connection she was given would be the one she would certainly cherish the most, to hopefully allow the young life in the stars to live vicariously through the new leader’s paws. Her mind wandered as she thought about all of the silent battles that each one of her Clanmates suffered on the daily, all of the silent battles that even she herself fought. Hazelpaw, I promise you, none of my clanmates will go unheard or unnoticed. They all should be able to speak to me, to their Clanmates. I’ll make sure none of them get left behind. It was a virtue of Thunderclan to be close with one another, to be a large family moreso than a clan of fighters. As Mottlestar found herself now outside of the tunnel she had once come in, her gaze instantly went towards the sky. Part of her hoped to see Hazelpaw’s twinkling star above her, to know that the life taken all too soon had heard her promise. Whether or not she actually did, she didn’t know. She could only hope. The thought of one of her own kits falling to Hazelpaw’s fate tore at her heart, the idea that one of them would feel shoved away and out of touch to where their life became simply lost to time. It was soon replaced by that spark of determination, by the flame that would keep that occurrence from happening.

She couldn’t help her giggle as she thought about the prickly tom. While she hadn’t had the fortune of getting to know him when he was Thunderclan’s medicine cat, it was his unique spirit that had stuck with her the most. The forest was a cruel place, and while some cats found themselves softened by their humbling experiences, others were hardened by it. It wasn’t hard to tell which of the two had happened to Pricklebush. But, it would be those hardened hearts who would know what could happen to those who were softer. It was a strong lesson for her to acknowledge, but also a harsh one to realize. Her pelt bristled as she thought about the murder of Cloverheart, of Dovefrost. Claws gripped at the earth below as she yearned for answers, for justice. Should any of my Clanmates be wronged by another, or be wronged by life, I will demand justice. She vowed. Too much tragedy found its grip on the forest, and deep down she felt the pull to demand answers for it all. Some misfortunes were certainly beyond her control, like the flood that had swept Shadowclan. But there were others, such as Morningstar’s rise to power, that surely could have been prevented if justice had truly been enacted. It fueled her rarely-found anger, but it was anger that had a purpose.

Next, her mind wandered to the mystery leader that had given her the life of dignity. Desperately did her knowledge attempt to figure out who the silver she-cat was, but no answers came. Perhaps it was fitting, given she had been given the life of dignity from the molly. To have dignity also meant not losing oneself, and it was a fear that Mottlestar stared at almost daily. As she gave herself more and more to her Clan, it was hard not to wonder if one day, she would run out of herself to give. If her duty and position would transform her into someone completely different, replacing who she should be. All of the worrying, all of the stressing. She had seen what it could do to a cat, the mental images of Bloodstar and Morningstar’s marred pelts coming to her mind. They both had fought so tirelessly for what they had believed in, it ended up costing them in many ways. Beetleshade came into her mind, and for a moment, her heart squeezed. As much as she tried to deny it, deep down, she knew that would be the very fate that would befall her former apprentice if she had found herself as her second-in-command. Power could go to a cat’s head, to make them lose their dignity. A heavy sigh came from the tortoiseshell as the realization had finally hit her in that regard. It was an important lesson for anyone to learn, and she closed her eyes. ”Whoever you may be, know that I will carry out this life with dignity. This title holds a rich history to it, and I won’t allow the greed of power to tarnish its sacred lineage.

Life seemed to have quite a heavy passion for testing even the strongest of heart, and Mottlestar knew leaders would be no exception. If anything, it felt as if they were the ones with a target painted to their backs to be the subject to many of life’s tortures. Just as she would remember to stay true to herself, she thought of the former Shadowclan leader as she remembered to stay strong. It felt as if all she was doing for the last few moons was being resilient, constantly dodging or surviving every blow of sharp, unforgiving claws that life attempted to hurl her way. Shadowclan’s flood, her second litter of kits, Minnowfin’s illness. All of it had its effects, its unique drag on the soul and mind. But just as she had learned when her first litter of children had slowly been taken by her one by one… Life never stopped. The forest paused and knelt to no cat, not even to the Stars. I promise, Sagewhisker, that I will keep on going. No matter what happens. Had this been where other leaders had faltered as life continued its path? There was only so much that a cat could take before they had to break and kneel. Her mind yet again flicked to her Minnowfin. There was surely resilience in his fight to stay alive, but had he fought harder… could he still have been Minnowstar? It was cruel thinking, and she dismissed it with a shake of her head. But the thoughts found themselves creeping in, nevertheless.

Mottlestar’s ear flicked as she remembered the she-cat who followed, willing herself to remember every single detail of the russet-toned spirit in question. She had been quite surprised to learn of the fact that Smallbean’s deputy had a daughter, and one that had been in Thunderclan, nevertheless. Her features came to mind, and she saved the thought to tell the small deputy of their encounter at the next gathering. Just as she felt with Morningsun, she knew that he would appreciate the news of his kit. But it was her message that stuck with her the most, and just like Kitefire’s name, it warmed her very body. Determination found its purpose in so many areas of life, as there was a plethora of ways to explore and to use it. There were obviously the evil, and Morningstar yet again found his claws in her mind. But there was also good. She thought of her kits, their youthful determination to excel at their training. She thought of Comfreyheart, of how she was determined to get her to relax during the times she was the most stressed and enveloped within her duties. Even her medicine cats had determination flowing through their veins, ensuring every single member of Thunderclan was healthy, and that they would be healed whenever something ailed them. I promise, the flame of determination will burn bright within me. I’ll use it to keep helping my Clan, even when times are tough. Resilience and determination went paw-in-paw, and it was quite hard to have one without the other.

But in difficult times, not just resilience and determination are necessary. Faith also had its place. A gentle purr radiated from Mottlestar as she thought of Dustcloud. It made her heart sing to know that the elder now found a youthful, happier appearance in her eternal life among the ancestors. Significantly easier was it to believe in the comforting blanket above her when the messenger of some of her lives were those that she knew. It seemed that Starclan knew that as well, as they had sent the cat attached to memories of when her faith had been tested the most. Dustcloud, your sacrifice will not be in vain. Knowing you found your way to the stars… I know Starclan forever is here for all of us. But I also know my faith shouldn’t just be in Starclan, but in my clan, as well. Mottlestar wasn’t like a medicine cat who got to hold monthly meetings with their ancestors. But it was to her benefit that she had been able to have council with them, to see and experience their existence. They wouldn’t be part of her everyday life, though. Even as her name now reflected her connection to them. Instead, it was Thunderclan. Her home was her entire life, and how could she truly believe in them all if she viewed them with distrust? Faith found its way into so many parts of the world, and that fact dawned upon her as she gave it thought. Faith that they would all survive, faith that they would believe in her. Even something as small as faith that they actually had marked the borders on their border patrol in the torrential rain, when nobody wanted anything more than to stay in their dens and nap for a bit longer. Smiling gently to herself, the leader closed her eyes once more.

Her last life, granted by the son who she missed so dearly. It was his wisened grace that had stuck with her the most from getting to see him again. The part of her that had been lost on the day he had given his sacrifice felt restored, warmed in knowing that, while it certainly was much earlier than it should have been, he had gone to the place of eternal rest that he deserved. Part of her certainly ached from the fact that he had been bestowed so much knowledge and wiseness from such a tragic necessity, but if there was any way to do his sacrifice justice, that would be it. It was so easy to feel vengeful against her ancestors for taking Morningsun away from her for them to return, but it was the very life that he had given her that put that negativity to rest. Compassion. The understanding of pain, the desire to comfort in its turn. If there was any cat who exemplified it, it was Comfreyheart. Mottlestar yet again purred as she thought of the two together. The onyx she-cat had quickly become a daughter to her, ever since she had seen the connection that the two of them had shared. You both have grown into such fine warriors, even if you are now a warrior of Starclan. I’ll carry that life of compassion with me always, my Sun. She promised, once more tilting her head to the sky instead of keeping them shut in silent contemplation.

It was in the reflection of all of her lives that she committed them, and their promise, to memory. Turning around to look at Mothermouth one more time, the newly-named Mottlestar rose to her paws to begin her journey home.

OOC Author's Note:

Thank you to everyone who submitted a life for Mottlestar! And, an even bigger thank you for putting up with my pestering. Shoutout to the following people:
Oryx, Ash, Karuna, Maple, Ebony, Ripped, and Splotch!

In case anyone is curious about the stats of this thing...
Words: 18,816
Characters: 102,305
Paragraphs: 174
Sentences: 902
Est. Read Time: 1hr 15min 15sec

Enjoy the mini novella that is Mottlestar getting her lives.