[Newleaf Tears] Blood In Common

Dapplepaw had said her goodbyes to her siblings and Magpiepaw, before finding Scorchclaw and touching noses with him in farewell. She was surprised that he mentor wasn't coming along, but she felt confident in the battle training they had done on the travel home, and her paws itched with excitement at the idea of seeing even more new places and being able to help, while simultaneously aching with the length of the journey and the nervous anxiety at having to leave so many of her loved ones to go somewhere unknown.

Walking with the other cats, and sense of relief came when she realized that Wasppaw was coming, and so was Barleytuft, the warrior from the hunting excursion when she caught her first fish. Waving her tail in a warm greeting to the WindClan warrior, she padded next to Wasppaw, eyes focused on the distant peaks of the mountains. Occasionally her blue eyes flickered over to watch the black Tribe cat curiously, wondering what this adventure would hold. She stayed quietly, focusing on walking and not messing anything up to hold any of the other cats back. Her thoughts were interrupted by the voice of Wasppaw, and she looked over to her, their gazes meeting. Her eyes betrayed her fatigue, but she smiled slightly to the older apprentice, nudging her shoulder in return and hesitated momentarily. "I would be lying if I said I wasn't. But I'm sure things will be okay, right? We'll find the others and get back home soon." She trailed off, her statement almost sounding like a question as she remained near to the tortoiseshell apprentice she considered a sister.

Poppyheart’s pelt prickled and his tail twitched with nerves. It had felt like just yesterday that he had finally been reunited with Asterspark, and now he had been forced to part ways with him again. He could still remember the look of utter despair and fear in his brother’s eyes when they found out Poppyheart was to join a patrol to trek back up the mountain to save any remaining Clan cats ... without him. He already missed his brother so much.

At least he surely wasn’t alone in feeling this way. Mothpaw and Silentpaw had spent even less time together before StarClan’s message split them apart once again. The other cats he was patrolling with must’ve felt the same way for their own families.

But it would be okay. They would do what they needed to in the mountains beyond Highstones, and then they would return back to their homes and families.

There was another reason why he was apprehensive. There seemed to be a pretty big chance there were other Clan cats in the mountains as well — why else would StarClan send them back from where they came? — so there could be a chance Redwing was still alive. Stars above, he truly hoped his true love was still alive up there. He didn’t know what he would do if she wasn’t. ...Of course, then, he’d just have another thing he would have in common with his brother.

Mothpaw shifted nervously on Wasppaw's other side. Beyond her RiverClan friend, the only comforts she had here were Minkpaw (or Strom, as she knew him) and her kin, Crowfur and Poppyheart. In particular, while sticking close to her newest friend and Dapplepaw she was also trying to keep an eye on her older brother, half-convinced he might vanish again if she looked away long enough. She already missed Silentpaw and Scorchstar and Asterspark and Thornbriar, but the words she'd said to her family to try and convince them to let her go were still clear in her mind.

("Someone has to help! If we don't, who will?" she'd asked, her decision already made.)

Now, though, as part of this patrol... It all felt so much more real. Not in a bad way, this time: this was an adventure she meant to go on, not a flood that had carried her from her family or a Twoleg that had captured her and her friends. Being here, now, was entirely her decision. Still, she couldn't help agreeing with Dapplepaw. Intentional adventure or not, she was definitely nervous. But nerves were normal, right?

Berrycloud wasn't really used to be around cats from other clans, despite the time they spent at the shores. He was just so used to his clanmates that it was hard to not see the other with distrust. The large, golden-furred tom stayed close to the two Riverclan apprentices, who were talking about how nervous they were. He laid his gaze on the mountain in front of them and he wondered if their clanmates were there, waiting for them to save them from the harshness of the rocky landscapes. Would his brother, Galepaw be there? What about Jaystar and... Goldeneye? Despite every wrong she had done against him... he simply couldn't stop seeing her as a mother too. Would Finchstream be there too? Waiting to reunite with her biological and adopted kits? "We will be okay. Starclan will guide us." He mewed not only for the she-cats but for himself. The rest of the clans, were up there, waiting for them. He had failed so many times as a warrior... to protect Sparkfrost and Silverfang... to stop Eaglebrook from running away... This time, he will bring his clan back altogether. He had to...

Barleytuft had spent most of the journey to the forest second-guessing his decision to go on the battle patrol to the mountains. When he had heard of StarClan's message, he saw the hope in his mate, Graybriar's, eyes. If the omen were true, then some of their Clanmates had found safety in the mountains: Brindlestar, Finchbreeze, Gingerpaw, and of course Graybriar's son, Briarpaw, could all be alive. Barleytuft didn't want to leave his mate; he didn't want to leave WindClan before even getting to step on the moor again. When it was time to say goodbye to the she-cat at Fourtrees he almost couldn't bring himself to do it. He considered backing out; however, if Graybriar couldn't search for her son then Barleytuft would do it for her. The lean tom stayed with her as long as he could, but eventually he pulled himself away from her presence to join the patrol.

He, and all the others, had been traveling so long that while he certainly felt it, it barely registered anymore. The lean WindClan warrior's pads had long since become calloused by the rocky shore and littered forest of the lake shore, and he had lost some bulk but gained some muscle after the whole ordeal so at least it was something. Barleytuft stayed close to the front of the group, lingering near Night, the shadowy tom who had volunteered to lead them through the mountains as a former Tribe cat. Though the WindClan warrior hadn't completely heard Night's story, several SkyClan cats seemed close to him and quite supportive of him. Perhaps he was once a Clan cat as well.

What he was or wasn't in the past interested Barleytuft. Long ago he'd had a friend in RiverClan and it had changed how he viewed those from elsewhere. Barleytuft was curious about Night and wondered what stories he might have to tell, but at the same time, what could he possibly ask? So instead Barleytuft trailed somewhat awkwardly behind, hovering and looking like he wanted to know something but had no idea how to phrase it.

When Heronflight heard that the clans needed a battle patrol, he volunteered in a heartbeat.  Not because he liked fighting, but because he thought he was one of the strongest cats in the group.  He wanted to make sure that all of his clanmates, and all of the clans in general, would be safe.
The senior warrior saw the former Tribe member Night volunteer to lead the patrol.  The black tom seemed confident, as he knew where he was going every step of the way.

After a few days of traveling, the gray tabby reached the base of the mountain with the other cats.  He was pretty quiet along the way, as he was preparing for the foretold battle from Amberdawn's prophecy.  He only talked when some cats were scared of the battle, saying things like "You'll be okay." and "Don't worry, I'll make sure you live to tell your tale." The gray tabby wanted to reassure his group that they would survive the trip.

Strom padded somewhere in the middle of the group, his ears flicking behind occasionally as some cat said something. For the most part, though, he barely felt the rocky ground underneath his now-hardened paw pads, or the chilly wind blowing his longish fur. Thoughts swirled through his head, the aching memory of leaving behind Yarrowpaw and Littlestream lurking at the edges of his mind. They chose me, and Copperpaw and Lionpaw could be there....

At the same time, a part of him rebelled at being chased straight back into being a good Clan apprentice, always doing what he was told. Yet, he was also relieved he didn't have to return just yet. The camp... a mix of memories awaited him there, memories he had been mostly free of since being swept away. For the first time in what seemed like moons, he hadn't had a bad dream, though most of them still lingered in unpleasant places. Still, not all was right, and conflicting emotions churned uncomfortably beneath his pelt, though he put on a cheerful face for the others. Nothing felt quite right anymore, it all just felt faintly wrong, a part of his mind that he ignored screaming that he was going to fall apart eventually.

It mostly just felt like his sanity was fraying at the edges.

He mentally shook his head and moved up beside Wasppaw and Mothpaw. Though he didn't know the young RiverClan apprentice as well as he did his friend from the misadventure in twolegplace, he could still remember the first time he had seen her. Which was also when she'd somehow managed to wake Sparkfrost from his coma by dumping a river's load of water on him. His whiskers twitched slightly with amusement at the memory, and he smiled at them both. "Hey, looks like we're almost there! My paws are just about falling off from all this walking. Wonder what we'll find?"

Despite the tone being slightly forced, his smile was mostly genuine as he turned from them to face the mountains towering above, though it slipped from his face for a moment as he faced the jagged peaks of what seemed like the perfect metaphor for all his troubles. What will we find...?

Crowfur was absolutely certain that joining the patrol was a good idea. It had all happened not too long after a message from Starclan. It seemed only right that he do so. Despite his joy when he had been reunited with the rest of his clan, the tom couldn't shake off his inner thoughts and feelings that he should be one of the ones who helped the clan cats up in the mountains. After some debate with his inner self, he made up his mind. This is where he was at now. He was among the ones heading back, ready to lead the cats stuck in the mountains back to the forest. He had confidence in himself and the other patrol members on assisting those left behind.

Somehow, in the last two days, Night had gone from a shamed, so-called traitorous exile...to the leader of a battle patrol journeying to the mountains to save lost clanmates and reunite what remained of all the clans once and for all.  That realization was still, admittedly, completely mind-boggling to the dark pelted tom, to the extent that his memory of standing up to volunteer for the role in the first place seemed blurry and distorted as if it belonged to another, much more worthy cat.  Alas though, he had been called forth from the crowd by the leaders and assigned a patrol of complete strangers whom he was supposed to guide through the perilous mountain passes...his homeland.  The fact as well that, after all these moons, he was finally going to see his home again, left the former Tribe prey-hunter feeling both light-pawed with excitement, as well as heavy-shouldered with dread.  He had never thought for an instant when half the Tribe had departed from the Cave that he would ever be able to return; death would most surely catch him first, and besides, they were going to a new home.  What reason would there be to return anyway?  Well, their new home hadn't been everything most had dreamed of, and in the end, he was one of the only cats who didn't return to the Tribe with Stoneteller.  As the cold wind whipped against his face, the older tom felt his eyes tingle as he thought of Frostwing, his dear mate, standing by his side as the Tribe left, confident in their decision and ready to start a new life in SkyClan, their rightful home.  And what had been done with that life, he wondered?  He had neglected his four daughters, watched as his mate succumbed to disease and sorrow after they had lost two of their kits...he had been forced to murder his own child in the horrors of war, and listened through his tears as she repented for her sins.  He had left behind Forestpaw, his last kitten, as he spoke out against Tinystar's brutality and was disgracefully exiled for doing so, the name Crowstar had bestowed upon him forever tarnished, left in the dust and swept away by the floodwaters.  Nightstorm...was dead.

Night of Stormy Gales though, lived on, and try as he had might he could not forget the cats he had once called family.  As the patrol had left Fourtrees, Night bid a cheerful yet strained farewell to his best friend Fernpetal; seeing her distressed eyes as he went off to follow the commands of a force she hated hurt his soul, but she understood his wishes to protect the only thing that still mattered to him...even if it would never reciprocate his appreciation.  Amberdawn had wished him well too, and he would forever be grateful to the young healer for her trust in him.  Ridgelight, the spunky young ThunderClanner he had met and traveled with by the lake, also bid him farewell, and he couldn't help but hope that they would be able to see each other after all this was over; it was nice to have a friend who didn't need to know of his shadows.  Greeting the nine cats who would be both his companions and charges though had been the hardest task of all; five RiverClanners, three ShadowClanners, and one WindClanner had been chosen, and he didn't know a single one of their names.  What worried him most of all though, was that four apprentices were among the chosen; one RiverClan she-cat had to be no older than six moons.  At first, he wondered if the clans were crazy.  Sending such young cats on a dangerous quest led by a complete stranger who came out of nowhere?  As time passed though, he saw with his own eyes that each of the cats - young and old - were brave and eager to help, and much more experienced with travel than they would have been only a few short moons ago.  They listened to his every instruction, and so far, there had been no disagreements.  As they continued to ascend the steep pathway rimmed by stone, Night glanced over his shoulder, smiling faintly to himself as the group climbed.  As much as he hated to admit it, he had missed talking to other cats during his exile.  Even on his first journey down these cliffs, he had never been alone, and he silently thanked the stars he wasn't alone now...he knew though that soon, the instant Tinystar returned and life went back to normal, he would once more be cast away, left to ponder if he had really made the right choice allowing Fernpetal to talk him back into group life.

All of these thoughts though were of the past and future; what of the present?  Narrowing his green eyes, Night could make out the paths diverging up ahead; one path to the left, one to the right.  The tom, despite his aging body, had always prided himself most for his mind and memory, and it barely took a heartbeat for old recollections to come flooding over him, lifting his tail high to signal to the whole patrol.  "Stay to the right, the path ahead will become much more narrow and dangerous, but as long as you take it slow and concentrate on where you put your paws, we will be fine."  As his deep voice boomed against the stones, he recalled for a moment how odd it was that no SkyClan cats had volunteered for the patrol.  This terrain would have been easy for the nimble and well-balanced to navigate, but alas, none had stepped forward.  Probably because of the prospect of being alone with him, the 'dangerous' renegade who had dared question Tinystar's authority...or maybe, because they just didn't know what to say, after having not raised a paw to defend him.  With a low grunt, the senior cat shook his head; memories could not pollute his mind at a time like this, he would not allow it.  His eyes drifting to a lone yellow bloom along the side of the path, he noticed out of the corner of his vision that the WindClan cat whose name he did not entirely know was following close on his tail, looking strangely tense, like a shy apprentice trying to ask a question of a warrior.  His brow lifted for a moment, expression blank, before a familiar friendly smile - soft at the edges - stretched across his maw, and he slowed his pace slightly to walk alongside the sandy tabby tom.  "Your name...Barley-something, isn't it?  How has the journey fared for you thus far?"  As a strong gust of wind whipped against his face, Night felt a powerful burst of nostalgia pass over his heart.  The smells of stone and wind and mountain grasses...of nearby prey and herbs, maybe even a hint of snow that still clung on in the dark places the sun couldn't reach...this was where he had been reared by his dear mother and the land in which she, his father, and his siblings had been laid to rest.  "...I never realized how much I missed this land.  You must feel the same for WindClan's territory, I'm sure?"  None of the patrol's members had been able to visit their camps before setting out, and he felt quite bad about that.  If it had been up to him, he would've given them a night of rest with their friends and families, but in the end, maybe it had been better this way.  Connecting just before separating was not easy, as he knew all too well.

Barleytuft licked his lips ever so slightly, taking in a breath as though about to start speaking, but before he had even decided what to say the patrol leader's voice rang out over the cold stone and washed over the group. The WindClan tom went silent and looked again at Night. "Stay to the right, the path ahead will become much more narrow and dangerous," the tom warned, and Barleytuft's dark hazel eyes sought the path the older tom mentioned. Sure enough a gap widened up and the rock which they walked on became smaller and smaller. Night continued on as they all prepared to cross, "As long as you take it slow and concentrate on where you put your paws, we will be fine." It was easy to follow his orders, and he was correct; it wasn't too narrow a path, just enough to be a bit precarious.

At that point, Night seemed to notice how close Barleytuft was standing and the odd bashfulness on his face. The pale tabby tom's fur flushed with embarrassment as he saw the tom's brow raise, and he wondered if Night would think he was being rude. A moment later, however, a smile flashed across the tom's face, and he fell back in pace with Barleytuft. "Your name... Barley-something, isn't it?" "Barleytuft!" he mewed back, a bit more enthusiastically than he'd meant. "How has the journey fared for you thus far?" Night asked.

Barleytuft chuckled a little and replied, "It's been long. It's fared better for me than others... I've been fortunate."

A gust of wind blew up to ruffle everyone's whiskers and sting their eyes with cool air. Being on the moor, Barleytuft was used to such breezes. Some of the forest dwellers might have a little more trouble, and he found himself glancing over his shoulder to ensure none of his patrolmates were blinded and trying to toddle right over the edge. When he was satisfied that they were all doing alright, he lifted his face to the wind, flattening his ears slightly to block out the sound. Beside him, Barleytuft saw that Night's face was soft with warmth and familiarity. He knows the breezes here, Barleytuft thought, and the thought was somehow humbling.

"...I never realized how much I missed this land," Night stated, and Barleytuft's ears perked to focus on his voice. "You must feel the same for WindClan's territory, I'm sure?"

The WindClan tom couldn't help but smile as he thought of the moor, all its brush and bushes and clearings. Barleytuft took a deep breath of the mountain air - sharper, cooler than the moor but still the same air - and answered, "Yes. The forest we stayed near on the shore... It felt constricting." The WindClan tom lifted his head, gazing into the air and around the horizon and the rocks nearby before sighing wistfully, "I like being able to see what's around me."

And that was when Barleytuft noticed it.

Off in the distance, barely visible against the mud-spattered and sun-stained stone, a dark gray creature of horrible size was sniffing at the earth, pacing to and fro. Barleytuft realized in that few moments that the mountains also provided ease of view, and within moment the WindClan tom recognized the form of a massive dog. Barleytuft's tail flung up and he hissed as quietly as he could manage, "Night! There's a dog up ahead--"

The second scent hit his nose, and more, and Barleytuft's heart dropped into his stomach when a more pale gray creature came out from behind a nearby stone, swung its massive head, and locked eyes with the group of cats. Instantly the canine's face twisted and it let out a series of high-pitched, excited barks. Immediately the other gray dog's attention was grabbed, its eyes widened, and it came thundering over the stone.

"Dogs! Everyone watch out!" Barleytuft cried, now knowing that the dogs had seen them. There was no point in trying to move quietly anymore. What are dogs doing here? he thought desperately. He was tired from his journey, but he knew he always had the strength to fight. I have to get home to Graybriar, and I will bring her son back, too, he thought determinedly, and with a battlecry he launched himself towards the gray dog, turning at the last second to dodge and distract it. It pounded after him, hot on his tail.

---

It had been boring since the first group of cats had escaped. The rockfall had come close to crushing the pack, but they had escaped with only cuts, bruises and hungry bellies to show for it - mostly. They stayed in the mountains out of spite and desire; the cats would have to come back down eventually. The dogs had even found the way they'd most likely return, and they had camped there to wait and see. They hadn't expected more to come up, though, so when the pale gray dog paced from behind the stone to see a cluster of cats down the mountain, they couldn't help but let out several barks and squeals of joy. The hunt was on!

The pale gray dog spotted the black cat in the lead. Their eyes focused and it raced forward, eyes locked on Night. With a snarl it leaped for the tom, slamming a paw into the cat's shoulder to send it tumbling.

Dog #5 used Heavy Blow on Night, using 20 stamina and dealing 25 damage.

Dog #5
150/150 HP
330/350 SP (-20)

Night (of Stormy Gales)
15/40 HP (-25)
120/120 SP

---

The gray dark had been minding their own business when the paler gray one had begun to cry out. Immediately they lifted their head and spotted the small team of cats headed up the mountain. They wasted no time in letting out a howl, ensuring the rest of the pack knew something had happened. Then, they raced off. A creamy tabby came running towards them and they thought for sure they'd catch it when it suddenly changed direction as though it had been going that way all along. The gray dog barked with frustration and tried to take a leap - success! It caught the cream cat's tail in its teeth and pulled, yanking the cat off its feet. It landed in a heap of flailing fur and claws.

Dog #6 used Thrash on Barleytuft, using 20 stamina and dealing 20 damage. Barleytuft is stunned for 2 turns.

Dog #6
150/150 HP
330/350 SP (-20)

Barleytuft [stunned]
60/80 HP (-20)
240/240 SP

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

---

'Effect Dice' : 5

Dapplepaw has swung her head around to look at Berrycloud and Heronflight when the air was split by a series of strange sounds followed by Barleytuft's cry. "Dogs? What are dogs?" Her question was lost amidst the sounds of howling and cries, and she watched in wide eyed horror as a huge dark gray creature will drool dripping from its jaws and unbelievably large and sharp teeth caught Barleytuft's tail and yanked on him. As the WindClan warrior fell to the ground in a heap, rage sparked in her eyes and she charged this strange creature with a shriek that echoed off of the surrounding rocks.

---

Dapplepaw used Run-and-Tackle, dealing 6+3 damage and costing 10 stamina.

Dapplepaw
20/20 HP
70/80 SP (-10)

Dog #6
141/150 HP (-9)
330/350 SP

Barleytuft [stunned]
60/80 HP
240/240 SP

The dogs hadn't had an easy time of it since those annoying cats had scratched them up. There was little prey, and nothing interesting to do. But as they had nowhere to go, the dogs had stayed there... And finally, their patience payed off. The large brown dog howled in joy as it spotted the smaller animals approaching, alerted by the pale dog. It bounded forwards and immediately attacked one of the cats, anxious to finally get out its pent up energy.

Dog #3 used Heavy Blow on Berrycloud, dealing 25 damage and costing 20 stamina.

Dog #3:
150/150 HP
330/350 SP

Berrycloud:
35/60 HP
200/200 SP

The black dog was resting when he heard the howls of his pack mates, and was annoyed to be awoken from his dream of hunting- only to find that his dream was a reality. The small cats were back, and he could finally do something! Excited, the lithe black dog jumped into the fray, picking up a cat by the scruff and shaking it around violently.

Dog #4 used Thrash on Crowfur, dealing 20 damage and costing 20 stamina. Crowfur is stunned for 1 turn.

Dog #4:
150/150 HP
330/350 SP

Crowfur:
80/100 HP
280/280 SP