Our Sanctuary (OPEN - Returning Home Topic)

As they walked, paws thudding against the muddy forest floor wiped of all leaf litter and non-resilient plant life, Leopardstar yearned for his feet to slip into their old familiar steps, padding down a sunny trail with a juicy piece of prey hanging from his smiling jaws...but this place, lacking their scent and marks and oddly sterilized, felt almost as foreign as the lake they had journeyed from.  His wide hazel eyes scanning the landscape, noting the many young trees whose lives had been cut short laying across their path, and stones which looked the same but different, as if they had been turned at a different angle.  Against his will, the leader's scabbed paws shook, not with fear, but with the deepest melancholy, he had ever felt.  The forest had not been this destroyed since the great fire when he was but a young warrior, but even then, this place had still maintained at least a semblance of it's former splendor...at least there was the promise of rebirth.  Now though, the water had changed so much, a lot of which would never be regained.  They would never gain back the layers and layers of history that slept within the old tree's rings...and would never again see the faces of some of the cats who had once called this their inheritance.  With a sigh, the golden spotted tom pressed on, passing through the clearing he starkly recognized as the place where his mother had abandoned him.  Even that horrid place looked so far changed...  The ravine was rapidly approaching.  After leading his tired clan down the steep walls and crawling over the many large branches and debris that had been left behind in the deep former riverbed, they could the camp entrance...or at least, where it used to be.  The gorse tunnel was gone, leaving only wilted stems that held on by the tips of their roots, and thus, left the camp exposed.  And oh StarClan, if only he were alone at this moment, for the heartbroken tom could hardly bear to look at their once beautiful camp without tears blooming in his eyes.

The ThunderClan camp was in ruins.  No foliage remained, the only landmarks being the Highrock - which Leopardstar suddenly realized with a chill must've been the rock he had hit his head on when he had lost his second life - and the old elder's tree, which had been too firmly cemented into the ravine's sides to have been swept away.  Seeing the battered tree only served to remind him once again though of his worst nightmare; Lichenfang was still missing.  Leopardstar halted his steps and stood in the middle of the camp, gazing around through eyes that could not believe what they were seeing.  This place had been the only true home he had ever known...and now...it was practically gone.  His utter exhaustion catching up with him and mixing with the trauma of seeing their beloved camp once more, the former rogue fell into a sitting position, his jaws gaping as he swallowed down a quavering whimper.  Grasswhisker...give me strength.  I don't know if I...can do this.  His eyes squeezing shut for a moment, he tried to pull together his fractured emotions before standing up, returning to his usual bravado as he called out to his much smaller clan.  "ThunderClan...we are home.  Though we are not all yet united; until the patrol led by the rogue Night returns, we will wait for our lost clanmates.  Firstly, we must clean out the debris from the main space of the camp and find suitable places for nests to be put down.  I task the apprentices with that.  Pricklebush is still missing; anyone with healing knowledge would be appreciated to look at our weary and wounded, though I don't expect any herbs to have been saved.  Hunting patrols need to be sent out as well, though prey is most likely scarce.  Marshstorm, only send out warriors into the territory until we've deemed it safe, I don't want more injuries or anyone getting lost."  He nodded over at his deputy, before racking his brain for more things to say.  For some strange reason, rattling off orders helped him feel more calm, a bit more in control.  Still, the tom still felt desperately outmatched, and it was obvious in his face.  I can't do this alone, I can't take every weight onto my shoulders at a time like this...it would kill me.  ThunderClan is smart and resilient, we will not be bested by this if we just work together.  As one, we can face any trial.

For what felt like moons, Marshstorm dutifully followed the direction the star glowed each night. The clans following it's gentle glow as well on the pathway to home. The forest slowly grew thicker. He was able to see lichen on the tallest branches, heavy rocks that were askew... a shudder crawled down his spine as he realised the sheer power the water must have had. It was amazing that any of them had survived at all. When the clans split, a quiet affair with no fuss to find their own camps, he felt relief.

There would never be a relief as great as when he had found Dustcloud, alive, and simply lagging behind the other cats. Nearly his entire family was together, and he was grateful to Starclan for it. Even as he glanced where thick brush used to lay. Where roots seemed swept out from the dirt. Some trees even showed muddy patches where bark had been scored by claws or rocks. Yet the greatest change... was the camp.

For a moment, Marshstorm stared at the camp in shock. Their home, his home for over a year... was gone. No nests, no dens... it was strange to see a simple ravine with an old tree held in by it's own bulk. Leopardstar's words rang into his ears, drawing him out of his state of concern. His eyes lingering over the lack of camp for another moment. His amber eyes met Leopardstar's hazel ones for a moment as he drew himself up.

"Lynxtail, Copperheart, Beartooth. You'll be the hunting patrol around Fourtrees and RiverClan. Flintfang, Ridgelight. Patrol the SkyClan and Shadowclan borders... while you are hunting, it may be good to lay down our borders." Marshstorm ordered quickly. His tone practical as he forced back emotions for the sake of getting his clan organised. He paused for a moment with a glance at Leopardstar before he padded over quietly to Dustcloud. "Think you can remember any of the herbs that Pricklebush used? I am hopeful he'll return, but regardless, we should begin building up our stores again." He looked up at the dividing cats, "Any cats who remember any herbs from time spent in the medicine den and are not on a border hunting patrol, go with Dustcloud. Bring any prey you can back."

Her weary paws sinking into the soft, waterlogged earth with each step, Mosspaw was sure that she would either get stuck in the mud that sucked at her pads or her feet would just fall off. She had been walking quietly, her head lowered in fatigue, and at some point in the last few days she had started to feel no pain, just an empty numbness. Suddenly the atmosphere around her changed, and she looked up, thinking maybe there was some kind of threat. Her fur lay flat quickly as she realized that there was none, but that she vaguely recognized the area around her. It looked different, changed somehow, but the foundation of it was there. She couldn't help the twinge of excitement, or the burst of energy that went to her paws, soon they would be home and she could curl up in a nest with the others, and all will be as it should be. It had been far too long.

Her smile faded as they neared the gorge, and she peered around Flintfang to get a glimpse. Horror and despair pierced her as she gazed down on the empty, desolate camp. She wasn't quite sure why she had let herself expect anything else, but the thought that there would have been something remaining that would have given this now unrecognizable place a sense of home. Wide-eyed in dismay, she carefully picked her way down the ravine, stumbling over a couple of fallen branches that caught her paws on the way down, but always righting herself. She swore she could hear her paw steps echo off of the gorge, along with everyone else's. The openness of it all reminded her of the time on the shores and she shuddered. She had learned a lot and done a lot, met all kinds of new cats and made some wonderful friends that she hoped she would see again, but she still felt at home under the canopy of trees and cover of underbrush that it just didn't feel like home. Her ears pricked and she turned to look at Leopardstar as he gave his orders, and just as she turned to join the other apprentices the leader and Marshstorm spoke of needing help gathering herbs and she paused before speaking up.

"I helped Amberdawn some before we met with you, gathering herbs. She taught me and some others about the ones we found, could I maybe help as well? I could check the medicine den just to be sure, maybe there's some cobwebs stuck in there."

The walk back to ThunderClan camp was humbling to say the least. An even more impressive feat, considering Flintfang had no desire to be humbled, and yet found himself in that state anyways. Entire trees had been uprooted from the damp soil, and foliage was strewn about the territory. Stagnant water still sat in puddles, the gray tabby would hiss with annoyance when his paw would slip into one. He remembered exploring these lands as an apprentice, marveling at the towering oaks, laughing at the whispers in the leaves. But all of those had been ravaged and torn. Perhaps it was symbolic. Flintfang's kithood, washed away just as ThunderClan territory was. Great.

Several of the tom's clanmates were still missing, and some had taken their last breath on the shore. His half-sister Bluepaw was one of the fallen. Pricklebush was still missing, and the camp seemed empty with lots of other pelts gone from the horizon. His family was still here though. Mosspaw, and Lilypaw. With a guilty glance to Falconwing, Flintfang doubted if he could still squeeze the she-cat into his definition of "family." They were mates once, before the flood. He remembered staring into her yellow eyes that fateful night, wondering if she thought of him as handsome. And look how far they had come. Now Flintfang was in love with another, pelt torn and scars criss-crossing his body. He was no hero, and no righteous being. He was a scoundrel, returning to a home he didn't love, surrounded by cats he wanted to forget.

A flash of calico pelt crossed Flintfang's vision, and he was reminded once again that his mind could not purge all sense of love from his heart. Mosspaw, his daughter. Moved by the circumstances of the flood, and yet stoic in her actions. Flintfang would be lying if he said he wasn't proud of her. Somedays he wished he could be a better father.
Marshstorm's voice echoed through the clearing, already ordering patrols. It would seem like another normal day, if it wasn't for the disastrous state of the camp, and the wayward state of Flintfang's heart.

"Moss." The gray tabby called to his daughter, wanting a few words with her before leaving on patrol. "Be careful, alright? There could be predators out here, the territory isn't the same as it once was." The tom was glad that she had opted to stay and help with herbs. A much safer fate than patrolling a beast-filled forest. "You do whatever you need to do with your... plants. I'll see you tonight." Flintfang gave her a farewell nod, before joining Ridgelight on patrol. He purposefully avoided Falconwing on his way over, feeling too much guilt for his past actions.

Lynxtail couldn't help but pause when they finally reached the ravine. During the journey home, the tom had kept himself occupied with the thought of returning home and curling up in his nest- and perhaps waking up to a nice mouse or two. This... this wasn't what he'd expected. There was no nest, no mice. There wasn't even a camp. He knew there would be work to do upon returning home. The ravine had once been part of the river, after all, which meant that it would naturally have flooded much easiler than the rest of the forest. Still, the reality of the situation, the sheer level of destruction, hadn't hit him until he was standing in the barren wasteland, a mere echo of the home it had once been.

His large, tufted ears perked as Leopardstar's voice echoed over their heads. Nothing would get done until something did, and the golden-brown tom knew that he owed moons of backbreaking labor to the clan that had taken him in. So, without so much as a sigh, Lynxtail began to drag a large branch towards the entrance of the camp. It was incredibly heavy, and the pine needles clearly meant that it wasn't from Thunderclan territory. The flood could've carried it from Starclan knows where- not that Lynxtail was complaining. He relished in the blank silence that work provided. Who needed to think about where Batpaw was or how Mothpaw and Minkpaw were doing when there were things to move?
Lynxtail tried his best to catch his father's hazel gaze in passing, hoping to offer him some solace, but Leopardstar was clearly preoccupied. He dug his teeth deeper into the bark.

Suddenly, he heard his name being called. The tom abandoned the branch (it was far too heavy for one cat to move, anyway) and straightened up, his back twinging as he did so. He winced, feeling a mixture of relief and empathy as other cats continued to haul debris towards the entrance. "C'mon, Copper," He said, picking his way towards his brother. "The sooner we catch something, the sooner we'll get to eat it." He would go on a thousand hunting patrols if it meant that everything could go back to normal, but for now, he'd have to be satisfied with one.

Leopardstar was snapped out of his tumultuous thoughts by a familiar kind voice and looked up to smile weakly at Mosspaw, her words coming as a welcome surprise.  "Yes, you're welcome to help in any way you can.  Be careful while checking Pricklebush's den, we don't know yet which structures are stable and which aren't, but...I don't want you out looking for herbs until the patrols return.  In our absence, predators may have moved in; I know you've conquered a dog, but let's not test fate."  He was surprised by his own casual humor, and suddenly hoped she wouldn't be offended, remembering how upset the young calico had been at her accomplishment.  With a purr, the golden leader stood up and flicked his tail against her shoulder, before turning to look over at where Marshstorm had gotten off to.  He seemed to be asking Dustcloud of something...  Hazel eyes rounding sympathetically, once Mosspaw had replied he started off towards the Highrock, new scratches adorning its face.  All at once, his mind flashed with memories of its former residents; Darkflight, admitting him into the clan and giving him his apprentice and warrior name...and Blizzardshine, naming him as her deputy, and later successor.  Almost all of his history had taken place in the shadow of this single rock, and now, he was charting his own course atop it.  A fate he had come to accept.  With a nostalgic smile, he bent his head to duck underneath the curtain of lichen that blocked the leader's cave, before realizing that it was no longer there.  His frown returned and grew into a disgusted grimace as he saw just how much of a mess was inside the cave.  Twigs and sticks were littered where his nest once was, river grime cacked the walls, and...was that, a dead fish?  With a sickened sniff, Leopardstar grabbed a long stick in his jaws and slowly prodded the decomposing creature outside, feeling his stomach churn at the stench.  And this is just the beginning of our work...Grasswhisker, I'll need all the energy you can give me.

Mosspaw smiled back warmly at her leader, and nodded to him. "I can do that, that way the den is cleared out so we have somewhere clean to put herbs when we can go out searching." Her tail flicked in excitement as she purred in return before making her way to Flintfang having heard him call to her. Once she reached him, she touched her nose to his quickly. "I'll be safe, don't worry. I'm staying in camp to take care of fixing the dens, while you're the one going out into the trees. You be safe, I'll see you when you get back. I'll try to find something good for you to eat when you get back, and have a nest made for you." She finished with a bright smile, returning his nod before watching his retreating back and making her way to Pricklebush's den.

The sight she was met with was not a great one, and she winced as she carefully maneuvered around the den and began the long, grueling work of getting it cleaned out and decent looking again.