Move to Stay Warm

Barleytuft may have been a warrior, but he hadn't yet experienced all the seasons. Green-leaf had been wonderful for the short-coated WindClan tom, but leaf-bare was proving too much for his poorly insolated body. Perhaps next leaf-fall his coat would be thicker and more able to withstand the icy winds. The warrior stood in camp working his prickling toes on the ground and he looked hopefully to the nearest warrior, mewing, "I'm freezing - I bet some running would do us some good. Want to go hunting?"

Graybriar shivered as she stepped out of the warrior's den, her thin pelt immediately standing up along her spine. It was times like this that she wished her fur was as thick as some of the cats she'd seen in RiverClan. It was cold. Frost crunched on the grass beneath her paws as she padded carefully over to Barleytuft, who seemed to be organizing the latest patrol. "I'll come," she meowed, moving slightly from side to side so that she wouldn't freeze in one place. "Moving will keep me warm. And so will a fresh rabbit."

Barleytuft spotted a dark tabby she-cat padding his way and smiled warmly when he recognized Graybriar. He nodded and chuckled lightly at her words. "That's just what I was thinking." With a flick of his long tail, the slender WindClan tom began to lead the way out of camp. Maybe more warriors would be useful, or an apprentice, but he wanted to run, and Graybriar looked like she could keep up with him. Barleytuft felt a little odd about leading Graybriar since she was a few moons older than he was and a mother as well, but once they were all the way out on the moor it wouldn't really matter.

Turning to check that Graybriar was behind him, Barleytuft mewed, "Let's head towards that Twoleg farm. There's bound to be prey in the straw and on the moor around it, don't you think?" When she replied, Barleytuft turned and began to race towards his destination, scenting the air occasionally as he loped across their territory. As he suspected, prey scents became a bit fresher near the farm, and when he spotted a rabbit a short distance away he flicked his tail to Graybriar to signal her to split away for him to chase the rabbit to.

Hoping she did as he asked - and once again trying to ignore the fear of acting better than her - Barleytuft veered away to cut the rabbit off from its warren. A few tail-lengths away its tail flicked up in alert, and Barleytuft surged forward to herd it towards his Clanmate.

Running alongside Barleytuft was relaxing, enabling, freeing. Graybriar felt all her worries melt away as she bounded across the frozen ground, feeling the chilly wind in her fur and almost closing her eyes in relish at the feeling. Her tail was straight out behind her, streamlining her speed, and a thrill rose in her as she began to pass the tom. Every hair on her pelt stood up against the cold, but she was enjoying her race so much that she didn't notice. This was why she belonged in WindClan... running was in her blood. The flick of her Clanmate's tail and the scent of a rabbit drew her out of her self-induced reverie. The dark-striped, light-furred tabby obeyed his lead without question, giving the young tom some confidence as she split away from him, heading in the direction that she imagined he would chase it towards. Sure enough, Barleytuft ran it towards where she was, and after a moment to judge its position and poise on her paws, she sprang.

Her paws landed squarely on top of its back, and she had it pinned in less than a second. A quick swipe of her claws ended its life, and she looked up towards StarClan in silent thanks. True to her beliefs, they'd never abandoned her, and had killed Lichenmask before he could do any real harm.... they would continue to watch over her life, she trusted, as they had done when they sent Pansyface to tell a young apprentice of SkyClan why she wasn't happy. The experienced warrior took the rabbit's scruff in her mouth and padded over to Barleytuft with it, which took some effort. The strong young animal had quite some meat on it, which was good- more food for Quailfeather, Silentstrike and the other elders. "Good job," she praised him, sky-blue eyes shining with respect. He needed it; she could tell.

The member 'Ash' has done the following action : Dices roll

---

'Hunting Dice' : 5

The wind rushed through his thin sandy tabby fur as Barleytuft launched himself across the moor, zigging and zagging just slightly to keep the rabbit on track. The team hunt worked like a dream, and Barleytuft's tail flicked upright with delight as he watched the lanky prey creature run directly into Graybriar's trap. He slowed his pace, panting slightly, and trotted to meet the she-cat somewhere between them. Seeing her glance up to StarClan in what he knew was a prayer, Barleytuft hesitated, not wanting to disrupt her. He still found himself praying to them, too, and yet Brindlestar had been so adamantly against revering their ancestors... The warrior didn't know if he was allowed to believe.

Graybriar met with Barleytuft a few moments later, and the tom purred when she praised his work. "Oh, thank you," he mewed, his chest full of warmth. Barleytuft looked at the rabbit and mewed with a playful chuckle, "This could feed half of Brindlestar's kits, huh?" After another moment of admiring he heard a light crunching sound a short distance away; the tabby turned his light amber eyes to see a fat pigeon among some straw pecking away at seeds.

Now or never! the lanky WindClan tom thought as he raced forward and sprang, claws extended with determination. As Barleytuft made his final leap the pigeon saw him and fluttered clumsily upward with a startled coo, but the warrior's claws hooked its wings and brought it back down with a thump that left it dazed. Barleytuft bit into the bird's neck and, as it went still, he looked up to StarClan and thought, Amberheart... Mom... I know you're always on my side. Thank you for the pigeon. Then the sandy warrior slowly picked up his bird and moved back to Graybriar.

When he reached her side, Barleytuft sat his pigeon down and asked, softly, "So you pray...? You, ah, still trust in StarClan...?" He hoped she wouldn't be offended by his asking; cats in every Clan hated or doubted in StarClan after what they had allowed to happen to the forest, and Barleytuft knew they were justified. He himself couldn't shake his own faith. It was a bit of a tender subject to some, but he had felt alone in wanting to trust StarClan - or at least, the idea of StarClan he'd been taught - and wondered if she might, too.

The member 'sumashira' has done the following action : Dices roll

---

'Hunting Dice' : 5

Graybriar watched with glowing eyes as the warrior went after a pigeon, waiting to help in case he needed it. Of course, he didn't. She was about to congratulate him again on the splendid catch when she noticed him tilting his head up to the sky, to StarClan, as she had done earlier. Interested, she cocked her slim head to the side when he returned. She blinked at his question, only mildly surprised... After the ordeal with Lichenmask, she knew that Brindlestar and many others had given up on their warrior ancestors.

"After what they've done for me, how could I not?" she replied simply, looking carefully into his amber eyes. "I'm not sure whether you know, but... I wasn't born in WindClan. Through some heavenly mix-up, I was born a SkyClan cat. But I never fit in there. I couldn't climb to save my life, and being closed in by all those trees just made me feel uncomfortable. But I loved running and chasing rabbits, and I met this one WindClan apprentice who made my heart soar... I never knew why until I went on my Moonstone journey... then, a she-cat named Pansyface told me why I was so miserable. I didn't belong there, in SkyClan; I belonged here, in WindClan." Her eyes were distant at the memory of those times, long ago. "So I left. It was hard to convince Crowstar and especially Rippedsky to let me leave, but they escorted me here, and... through their divine wisdom, StarClan sent a sign to the medicine cat here so that Ashstar, may her soul rest in peace, would accept me. I think she may have seen it as some sort of trade for Rippedsky- Rippedstar's betrayal, long ago."

Graybriar sat back on her haunches as she finished her story. "So you see, there's nothing that could ever make me stop believing in StarClan. Lichenmask came through our own folly, not theirs... though even they are not perfect. There's nothing that grizzled, suspicious old Brindlestar could do to make me abandon them, like she has." Determination shone in the normally shy warrior's eyes, along with a little bit of defiance. "Pansyface is up there, and Ashstar, and my dear mate Badgerthorn... They would never abandon me, and so I will never abandon them."

Barleytuft waited with nervous anticipation as she simply blinked, and then replied honestly - with more honesty than the warrior had ever anticipated. When she explained that she had originally come from SkyClan - that she had been really, truly born into the wrong Clan - the tom was incredibly surprised, but he believed it wholeheartedly. Graybriar was as WindClan as any WindClan cat could get. At least, he had always thought so. Even hearing her original birthplace - especially within the context of how she came to WindClan - seemed strange. As she explained her situation, Barleytuft listened quietly and respectfully.

At her conclusion, Barleytuft nodded slowly. "Amberheart is there - my mother. She died after the Great Battle, of course, but I know if she's there, at least she's on my side." He let out a long, deep sigh. "Thank you, Graybriar, for telling me. I try to keep my faith, but everyone has been so on edge since Lichenmask... It's just been sort of lonely."