Rippling Current Guide Us

Raventail started planning his first guess before he’d even set a whisker in the tunnel. By the time he exited shortly behind Barleytuft, he was no closer to a good answer. He didn’t have much in the way of clues: it had to be interesting, somewhere on the moor, and a thing he would like. None of those helped narrow down his options. A standard WindClanner in many ways, there was a lot here that Raventail liked—rabbits, open spaces, watching Silverpelt at night (however he felt about its residents). Barleytuft didn’t have to be particularly close to him to know that much.

Maybe it was a good thing he was preoccupied; it kept him from thinking too much about the moor itself. Avoiding the tunnels was easy enough, and he’d been careful to give them space since he’d realized the danger, but Raventail still didn’t feel completely safe. Having Barleytuft around…helped, in a weird way.

Focused on matching the older warrior’s new, faster pace, Raventail was quiet for a moment. Then he threw out his first guess: ”You found a good climbing tree.” He doubted that was the surprise—even he wouldn’t leave camp just for a tree, especially at this speed, and he knew WindClan's territory better than his own reflection besides—but his love of heights had never been a secret. That, and he had no idea where they were going. Not yet. "Can I at least get a hint?" he asked, glancing at Barleytuft in the hope of finding one in his expression.

The warrior rolled onto her back as she waited patiently, stretching her white paws to the clouds and sun overhead. Her mind lazily conjured up daydreams of running among the clouds so much higher than she had ever been, and running with the people she cared about at her side. Her paws stopped moving, drooping down as she thought of who would run with her, and she realized that as much as she wanted him to be, Magpiepaw would most likely decline.

She rolled back onto belly, standing up to stretch. If she stayed in one spot for too long, it was almost guaranteed that she would fall asleep. So why not distract herself? Moving back into RiverClan territory a bit, she paused to scent the air. Almost immediately she caught the fresh scent of frog, and before she could move a whisker it hopped practically between her paws. She instinctively killed it before staring down at it in mild surprise and carrying it back to the flat spot in the grass that she had been occupying, placing it next to her.

Dappleshine attempted to catch a Frog, catch was successful! -3 SP.

45/45 HP
154/160 SP

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

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'Hunting Dice' : 6

For a short while a silence stretched between them, and Barleytuft couldn't decide if it was comfortable or strained. Maybe both, in some ways and others. When the moor stretched around them the warrior remembered once again the uncertainty that lay just under the surface of the moor. How many more tunnel systems had become soft yet lay undiscovered, ready to claim another life? Barleytuft was certain that Raventail felt it too - the uneasiness; he'd been there the day the earth swallowed Brookclover and their leader.

The warrior still remembered how horrified he'd been when Finchstar, in his grief, struck Raventail. Barleytuft could still hear the sound of the leader's paw slamming the smaller black tom away, and he regretted that he'd done nothing in Raventail's defense at the moment. He'd simply been so frozen with shock at everything that had happened so fast. When Finchstar had commanded Barleytuft and Grousefrost away, they had fled obediently. There had been no hope, but they did what they were told. Barleytuft never found out what had happened between when he left and when he returned with a medicine cat - too late, as he'd known. Had Finchstar apologized? Had Raventail retaliated, or fled? What had transpired?

This wasn't the time to ask, though. Raventail's voice sounded, suggesting a climbing tree. Barleytuf's whiskers twitched and he shook his head, replying, "No, no climbing for me; I'm not quite sturdy enough for that. I'll remember to keep an eye out for that, though." He wondered how Graybriar felt about tree-climbing nowadays; would it be strange to ask later? He'd think about it, she always seemed proud of where she'd come from and where she was now.

Already, the dark tom beside him asked for a hint. Barleytuft laughed at that. "Are you stumped already?" he teased. The creamy tabby tom flicked his tail and replied, "Well, we're going straight across the moor towards it. That might be a hint on its own." He continued along at his steady pace, wondering how Dappleshine was spending her time on the border. For a moment he wondered what he might have to tell Raventail if, for some reason, the RiverClan cat had left. What if a patrol had come and made her go back to camp? Raventail would either be disappointed to have missed his friend, annoyed to have been dragged out of camp for nothing, or both. He scented the air subtly, but they were downwind and he couldn't distinguish her - or the scent of the river in the Gorge - from this distance.

Sure enough, he’d been off the mark—way off the mark, judging by Barleytuft’s response. Raventail guessed that was one of the disadvantages of being taller (and, by extension, one of the reasons most WindClanners weren’t nearly as tree-inclined as himself); while height meant fewer steps to cross the same distance, it also meant more cat to maneuver. Then again, Raventail had grown up scaling the trees scattered across the lakeshore. Most newly-made warriors couldn’t say that. Unperturbed by having wasted his first guess, he flicked an ear in cheery acknowledgement. ”Really? I think it’s nice being so high up.” He grinned. ”I can see over everyone’s heads that way.”

As Barleytuft laughed, the darker tom put on a mock frown. Though their mystery destination was still a mystery, Raventail didn’t mind; for the first time in too long, racing across the moor was…fun. Really, truly fun. He let that realization settle in, faintly surprised. Despite the uncertainty—which, between the treacherous ground beneath his paws and the tabby tom beside him, there was plenty of—lingering in the back of his mind, Raventail barely felt its weight as he trotted along. ”That’s hardly a hint. The moor’s so big, it could be anything! A rabbit, a bird, a cool rock—wait, those aren’t guesses, they don’t count.”

Another idea, one he wouldn’t have considered a moon earlier, popped into his head. If they continued in a straight line, they would eventually hit the river… Something new at the Gorge, maybe? Raventail had been careful to clean his pelt and catch some prey every time he went to the now-neutral land they shared with RiverClan. An observant or suspicious cat would have little trouble discovering the truth, but he doubted anyone knew him well enough to question it. Besides, Barleytuft would have scolded him if he’d found out…right? So Raventail discarded that thought, though not without making plans to visit the Gorge regardless; he had a promise to keep.

”Hm…” Between here and the Gorge, between here and the Gorge… Certain this was a better guess than the tree had been, Raventail said, ”You found a nest, then.” An apprentices’ game. Over the course of his training, Raventail had brought back exactly one egg; the competition itself was more enjoyable than eating the prize. It still didn’t explain the urgency, but eggs were more liable to up and vanish than plants were.

Her head drooping to lay on her paws as she waited, the warrior found her mind wandering. So much had happened... Had changed. But on the same paw, so much hadn't changed at all. Magpiepaw was still distant, refusing her offers of company and continuing to avoid her. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine that everything was okay again. But when she opened them, she was still at the gorge, and the hole in her chest left by Magpiepaw was still there.

She stood, shaking herself off. She'd be no good to anyone, especially Ravenpaw, if she was miserable when he got back. Besides, she didn't want to worry him or Barleytuft. She looked around, searching for something to track. A waft of fresh frog scent touched her nose, and for a moment she thought it was just the scent of the frog she already caught before she spotted it hopping before her. She dropped into a crouch and pounced, killing it quickly and adding it to her forming pile - at least she wouldn't have to catch something later!

Dappleshine attempted to catch Frog, catch was successful! -3 SP.

Dappleshine:
45/45 HP
151/160 SP

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

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'Hunting Dice' : 6

Raventail seemed surprised by Barleytuft's adversion to tree climbing, but it seemed fairly obvious to the WindClan warrior. When they had met on the shore Barleytuft had tried his best to stay out of the forest whenever possible, for sleeping under the roof of a twoleg den or the canopy of trees was unsettling to him, and the roots criss-crossing on the ground always tripped him up. Moors, pastures, and wide open spaces were better for his long limbs; he suspected he wouldn't last a week in ThunderClan or SkyClan. Raventail had seemed more inclined to hunting in the underbrush, though, so it would make sense he liked being in trees. Barleytuft only chuckled at the tom's reasoning for enjoying it so.

When Barleytuft offered his "hint", the dark warrior was expectedly not content. He threw out a few options and Barleytuft's grin grew; as if reading his mind, Raventail threw out, "Wait, those aren't guesses, they don't count." Barleytuft snickered.

Another few moments of silence passed and Barleytuft thought again about Dappleshine and what she might be doing; they were quickly closing the gap between themselves and the Gorge, and the warrior wondered if Raventail would guess before the surprise revealed itself. Raventail gave his second official guess: a nest. Barleytuft purred and exclaimed, "Oh my gosh, the egg game! I haven't played that in seasons. No, the surprise is not a nest. One more." The sound of the river running through the Gorge was gradually becoming louder in the distance.

Though Raventail had only ever known his current companion as a warrior, it was easy to imagine Barleytuft racing back to WindClan’s camp alongside his faceless denmates, an egg firmly but carefully held in his jaws. He had to laugh at Barleytuft’s enthusiasm. ”Me too—I was never that good at it, though. I kept dropping the eggs.” Maybe when the nursery’s current residents became apprentices, Raventail could start up a game. At the very least, he could stand by and announce the winner. Setting those plans aside, he heaved a sigh at Barleytuft’s verdict. Wrong again! ”I thought I had that one!”

For the last time, he went over his options, now few in number. Unless Barleytuft had a last-minute turn in mind (didn’t he say we were going straight across?), they were headed toward the Gorge. As if to reinforce this, the faint roar of the river reached his ears, getting louder and louder as they continued. Raventail’s mind circled back to the idea he’d had before. It didn't seem so unlikely now. The biggest question was no longer where they were going, but what awaited them there.

Even if it might raise difficult questions and meant using up his third and final guess, he had no choice but to ask. Giving Barleytuft a sidelong glance full of uncertainty, he meowed, ”We’re not going fishing, are we?” He couldn’t imagine how anyone, especially a pair of WindClan cats, could fish from those waters, but it was a safer bet than giving voice to his true guess. Interesting, something he would like, something they had to hurry to see… It couldn’t be, but… Raventail's legs sped up without his conscious input until he was nearly outpacing his taller Clanmate. The Gorge would come into view soon; until it appeared, he would keep his gaze locked where he knew it would be, just in case.

Surely they wouldn't be much longer, right? How far was the WindClan camp from the Gorge? Realizing she didn't know the answer to that, her mind went wild with possibilities. What if something had happened? What if a fox or dog had come and attacked them, and they needed help? Or worse, what if the ground had opened beneath them, swallowing them whole to meet the same fate as their beloved clan mate Brookclover? Dappleshine paced in a small line back and forth next to her small pile of catches anxiously, her eyes scouring the distant moors for any signs of an approaching cat. Two small specks caught her eye far in the distance, and she felt herself start to relax a little bit, but still remained on her toes - it could be another patrol, or something other than cats.... But she would do no good to herself, or anyone else for that matter, just standing around worrying.

As the two figures approached, she noticed something further into RiverClan territory and she turned, stalking her way closer to the small, nibbling creature. As she drew closer, she realized it was a rabbit that had wandered across the area of land between RiverClan and WindClan, and she hesitated for only a moment before taking the catch. A rabbit would feed a couple of cats back at home, and it was on her territory, not even on the neutral ground.... So she gave chase, forcing it further into RiverClan territory just to be safe before catching and killing it. Trotting breathlessly back from RiverClan territory with her catch hanging from her jaws proudly back up to the spot she had been staying, she saw the two figures in the distance were much closer now, close enough to see their faces actually. Her tail raised in greeting and she set down the rabbit as she recognized Barleytuft's face, and then waved in joy and excitement when her eyes turned to the cat next to him, and she recognized the face of Ravenpaw. A purr rumbled in her chest and her paws kneaded the ground as she tried to wait patiently, making sure that she was well withing the range of the neutral area as her two friends closed the last of the distance between them and her breathing started to slow.

Dappleshine attempts to catch Rabbit, catch was successful. -3 SP.

Dappleshine:
45/45 HP
148/160 SP

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

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'Hunting Dice' : 2

Thoughts of the egg game reverberated in Barleytuft's head; his long legs had been useful, but he was always so near to laughing that carrying the small treasure took considerable concentration. Perhaps he'd be able to teach it to his kits one day - maybe Raventail would help. It sounded as though the dark warrior struggled with the game; truthfully, that made it all the more fun. Though the tom was disheartened that he still hadn't successfully guessed where they were going, he seemed amused by where his guess had taken him. Barleytuft chuckled, and then another silence fell between them. His final guess. Raventail thought long and hard, and the hum of the river grew louder by the moment.

Raventail broke the silence for one final time, his last guess before they likely arrived at their destination. Voice full of uncertainty, the tom queried, "We're not going fishing, are we?"

At that, Barleytuft let out a hearty laugh. "Oh stars no, especially not at the Gorge," he replied through his laugh. "If I never put another paw in running water it'll be too soon. The surprise might think otherwise, though." That was likely the final hint needed if Raventail and Dappleshine really were friends as the RiverClanner had said. As Barleytuft looked aside at his companion he was surprised to find that the black tom had pulled forward by a few paces, his strides having lengthened - perhaps with anticipation? Barleytuft couldn't keep from grinning like a kit waiting for their parent to notice a cool rock or feather they'd found as he followed Raventail at the quicker pace.

His dark hazel eyes drifted forward to where he had last seen Dappleshine, and to his dismay he could no longer see her creamy pelt and dark face. Suddenly the idea of a surprise seemed like a risky decision - what if she'd had to leave, and Barleytuft had dragged his Clanmate out here for no reason? If they really were friends then he could explain what had happened; hopefully Raventail wouldn't be disappointed if that were the case. If Raventail and Dappleshine hadn't really been friends, though, then Barleytuft wasn't sure what he could say or do to salvage the outing. Could he come up with some other exciting surprise in a way that his friend wouldn't notice? No, of course not, and the warrior was stumped at where to even begin.

Within moments a furry tail appeared just over the horizon and eased his worry, and Dappleshine's form soon followed, drawing nearer with something held in her mouth. Barleytuft realized with shock that she was carrying a rabbit, and he found himself exclaiming "Whoa! Do you see that?" That was a fairly large one, if he could tell from so far. Did she catch that herself? Barleytuft picked up his speed, nudging Raventail's flank to invite him to run if he so chose. The pale tabby warrior closed the gap between him and the Gorge, slowing to let Raventail reach his friend first.

He’d assumed he would be wrong; fish was good once you got used to it, but the process of catching it involved too much water to make for a fun surprise, something Barleytuft seemed to agree with. But before Raventail could respond, Barleytuft delivered another hint. Whether the older warrior realized it was a hint or not, Raventail didn’t know (though the grin he was wearing gave some idea); regardless, the half-formed joke about fishing and wet fur he’d been about to say withered away, along with his uncertainty. Though the time for guessing was over, the answer rang clear as birdsong.

At first, when he looked back toward the Gorge, it was empty. Then a raised tail emerged over the horizon, followed shortly by a familiar gray-and-white pelt. That she was holding a rabbit—that she was holding anything, really—didn’t register. Here above all, it was impossible to mistake her for anyone else. Grief and guilt lingered within him yet, but they were small things compared to the rush of joy that bloomed in his stomach. He had so much to tell her. Gratitude and his warrior name, hope for the future, the tiny but persistent desire to make WindClan his home once again—and what about Magpiepaw? Had they talked things out?

Barleytuft’s nudge barely made contact. ”That’s Dappleshine,” Raventail said, and bolted.

He was far from the fastest cat in WindClan, but in that moment he could have matched any hare on the moor. Only as he crossed onto the Gorge did he slow down, not wanting to knock Dappleshine or himself into the raging waters below. ”Dappleshine!” With a flurry of purrs (and enough care not to trample the prey she’d caught), he bumped his nose against hers, then headbutted her shoulder. Up close, he could see bits of pink tangled up in her fur. ”I’m so glad it’s you! You wouldn’t believe—wait.” Drawing back, the short warrior finally identified the shapes in the pile he’d tried not to step on: two frogs (ugh) and... ”That’s a rabbit. You caught that?” With a laugh and a nod to the single petal perched atop Dappleshine’s head, he added, ”It probably didn’t see you, you’d blend right in!”

Gradually, his face-splitting grin receded into something gentler. He would see Dappleshine at the Gathering, he was sure, and the Gorge wasn't going anywhere even if Jaystar decided he wanted it back, but...it was still nice to see the only friend he knew for sure he had. "You know, when Barleytuft said he found something interesting—"

Right. Barleytuft. WindClan’s newest warrior pulled up short and very, very slowly turned to look at the taller tom, who had brought him here knowing Dappleshine would be waiting—who, then, must have found out about their friendship somehow. If he’d had any doubts, Raventail’s greeting had probably squashed them. He cleared his throat as softly as he could manage. ”I’m not in trouble, am I?” While he had—had once had someone in WindClan who understood his need to wander, he wasn’t sure what his Clanmates would think of him seeking friends outside their borders. Barleytuft was nice, but even nice cats' opinions could clash with Raventail's own.

The RiverClan warrior was practically jumping with excitement when Ravenpaw made his way to her swiftly, and her purring matched and mingled with his as she closed her blue eyes, returning the gesture. She set that rabbit down and smiled at the tom, joy overwhelming as light tears started to form in her eyes. "Ravenpaw! I was afraid that you two may have gotten lost in the moors and I'd have to go find you!" She teased before he noticed the rabbit and stopped, surprised. She sat down, head raised proudly. "I did! It was behind me, it must have crossed over from the moors. Gave me some hassle trying to catch it though, they're faster than I thought! Kudos to you for being able to do it all the time!" Her purring grew louder for a moment when she noticed his gaze focus on something on her head, and she shook it, expecting a leave or something. Nothing came off, so she raised a paw to try to get it, and missed the petal completely. Drawing her empty paw back and looking at it, she turned her gaze back to Ravenpaw. "Did I get it? What's there?"

Her gaze softened as his smile did, and she stood to go stand next to him, tucking her head under his chin gently. "I missed you." She mewed simply, their long fur blowing gently in the breeze. At the mention of Barleytuft, she pulled back. In her excitement, she hadn't noticed if the other tom had come back as well, as she thought about it she had seen two figures approaching, but... Maybe he hadn't seen the gesture? Ravenpaw seemed to have the same realization, and in unison they both slowly turned towards the older warrior. She put on a small, hesitant smile, her tail tip twitching nervously. Oh stars, Barleytuft had seemed approving of their friendship, but.... Had she just ruined her own secret?

In one smooth action that confirmed the story that was told, Raventail's speed picked up remarkably until he was far from Barleytuft's reach and the black tom raced towards his RiverClan friend with an apprentice's spring in his steps. Though he picked up his speed, Barleytuft allowed them their own quick greeting; it had been a tactful way to gauge if the two really had remained friends or not, and he was delighted to see that it was true. The tom and she-cat bumped into each other multiple times, tails swaying with pleasure, and they spoke from a distance pieces of small talk that Barleytuft could faintly distinguish. He slowed as he drew near, hearing Dappleshine purr a gentle statement of endearment towards the tom.

Barleytuft stopped and stood, waiting patiently for their reunion to end. Dappleshine's good nature had been pleasing right from the start when the WindClan tom had met her as an apprentice, and it was quite a relief to know that her spirits hadn't been dampened by the return of borders and the state of the forest. Raventail pulled away and began to speak about how he had been expecting something interesting, and suddenly he cut himself off. Barleytuft blinked his dark hazel eyes, wondering what could've caught the young tom's tongue, when slowly Raventail turned towards him. Oh - I've caught his tongue? he realized as Raventail asked nervously, "I'm not in trouble, am I?"

The WindClan warrior snorted and responded with an amused purr, "Did you do something troubling?" He took a step forward and swept his tail playfully over the back of Raventail's head, flicking his ears. "Of course you aren't in trouble. Why would you be in trouble for having friends? Furball." Barleytuft looked at Dappleshine and was surprised that she had appeared uneasy too. "Oh, relax, guys, the warrior code says you can have friends in other Clans. I was friends with a RiverClan cat when I was your age. We just have to respect each others' borders and put our Clans first. It's no big deal."