Deerpaw's Moonstone Journey

Mothermouth was cast in a waning shadow, growing as the sun set over the mountains. The two clans that sheltered beneath the caves slumbered deeply, curled up in their makeshift nests of wool and moss. Finchstar sat near one of the deeper tunnels, orange and white tail flicking absent mindedly. His yellow eyes peered into the gloom, trying to pinpoint a calling, maybe. It had been only a few sunrises ago when Finchstar, then Finchbreeze had received his nine lives. He had padded down this very tunnel, pressed his nose to that stone, and accepted his fate. Ever since then, the leader was enamored with it, and hoped for an excuse every day to go and visit the stone again.

A flicker of russet fur, and Finchstar noticed Deerpaw stir, waking from the darkness. The apprentice was mature and intelligent, and the orange and white tabby wondered whether he too, had ventured into the deeper caves of Mothermouth. Feeling exceptionally adventurous today, the tom padded over the the apprentice, sitting next to him quietly. A few moments passed as the two toms stared deeper into the tunnels, eyes flashing in the gloom. "You haven't yet visited the Moonstone, have you?" Finchstar eventually asked Deerpaw. "Being so close to it now, it would seem silly not to venture deeper..." There was a twinkle in Finchstar's eye as he gave Deerpaw a mischievous look. Gesturing towards the tunnel with his tail. "Shall we?"

These nights were not nearly as peaceful as he'd wished. Deerpaw found himself caught in a sort of conundrum: WindClan warriors and apprentices usually slept out in the open air, beneath the vast stretches of Silverpelt, to be closer to StarClan. Now, two clans of extreme opposites resided within the dark and dank caves within Mothermouth. Here the Moonstone was extremely close, but the stars were blocked by treelengths of rock above their heads. 'Is StarClan closer outside than inside?' Though it was a rather ridiculous thing to think about, it kept his mind off of all of their dead and missing Clanmates.

Movement in the darkness caught his attention and in the faint light coming from the entrance came Finchbreeze's - no, Finchstar's ginger pelt coming towards him. The tom moved to acknowledge him, but settled back down as his leader sat beside him. Unsure as to what he wanted, Deerpaw stared into the darkness alongside the younger, yes, younger tom. 'Nothing will ever make this not weird.' His ears twitched as Finchstar spoke. "I have not and my time to go does feel a bit overdue." He gave the orange tabby a mirrored reaction, narrowed eyes gleaming with intrigue. What could the Moonstone look like?

I will lock this topic because it happens after the dog's attack happened and cats shouldn't be here. If you want a moonstone journey, feel free to do a dream topic for your apprentice. Sorry for the inconveniences. You may go on ;D

Nodding at Deerpaw's verdict, Finchstar began to descend down the dark tunnel, yellow eyes glowing. His pelt pricked with anticipation as the two toms neared the moonstone. Every time that Finchstar neared these tunnels, he seemed to feel as if he was stepping into a dream. It wasn't the thought of StarClan that entranced the tom so, but rather the thoughts of thousands of stories, thousands of lives. All that could be contacted through the dim stone they now stood before. The orange and white tabby offered Deerpaw a grin, nodding with ease before settling down at the other side of the cave. The large rock was not lit yet, but stood tall ever still, stretching up into oblivion. The leader's yellow eyes watched with anticipation from his spot closer to the cave wall. As much as Finchstar would love to speak with his long lost sons again, it was Deerpaw's turn to witness his ancestors. Finchstar could only hope they would be kind.

A moonbeam shone through the crack in the roof without warning, colliding into the moonstone, and sending fractured white light over the cave's walls. They danced like stars, swirling and twinkling, seemingly giggling with a whimsical glee. Finchstar inhaled sharply, eyes never leaving the mystical rock. Giving Deerpaw another nod, the tom gestured toward the stone, wondering what StarClan had to say to the older apprentice.

Deerpaw’s soft pawsteps echoed down the tunnel, claws clicking lightly against the dark rock. As they entered the main cavern, the tom felt a flicker of confusion, wasn’t the Moonstone supposed to glow? His doubts were soon assuaged as a gentle beam of moonlight entered the brilliant stone, bouncing out and onto the walls around them. A sense of calm washed over him. Without a word he kneeled before StarClan’s monolith, touching his nose to its chilly surface and swiftly falling asleep.


Little time passed before those pumpkin eyes opened again. He was in a field, not unlike his home on the moors, with fireflies floating lazily between the grass stalks. No, they weren’t fireflies, they were stars. Deerpaw sat up, gazing around in wonder. So, this was StarClan? It felt lighter here, he wasn’t so tired. In fact, he felt as if he could run for miles. The tom stood and weaved his way through the heather, gazing around for anyone. The smells here were faint, as nothing truly had a physical form to it anymore.

With another turn through the tussocks, he stopped, bewildered. He thought he was looking into a pond, but the reflection he saw was standing before him. Russet brown fur, a white belly, and the same orange eyes, yet there were obvious differences. This one was taller. Stronger. Yet his form was very faded, like a shadow. The odd cat spoke first, their voice not much different from his own.

“It is nice to finally meet you, Deerpaw.”

“The same. But, who are you?”

The other tom’s gaze was soft. “I am your grandfather, Deernose. I died long before you were born, but I’ve been keeping an eye on you from here.” His grandfather? Never had he heard the tom spoken of, nor even mentioned in passing. How long ago had he really died? The apprentice didn’t speak, but in that moment he could only assume he was probably named after this cat in some brief moment of respect for the otherwise forgotten warrior. “You’ve grown a strong heart, my son. Your loyalty shows no bounds. I am proud to call you my kin.”

Deerpaw dipped his head from the praise, yet he soon looked up once again with words of his own. “I want to do what I can to heal WindClan in this dark hour. We are divided, lost, and without a home to call our own. What do we do now?”

“You do what you can with what little you have. Only time will dry the forest, but it is WindClan that must put in the work to make it a home once more. I know you have what it takes, Deerpaw.” Deernose moved to place his chin on the younger tom’s head, just as the fields began to fade away. In a brief moment the apprentice could detect a faint drop of sadness in his grandfather’s words, but things went dark again immediately afterwards, leaving no acknowledgement nor explanation. Had he meant to say more? Or purposefully held his tongue?

“Do what you can with what little you have.”