Ancestors, Hear Our Prayers [closed]

Aspenpaw finished bundling the travel herbs into four individual pouches and rolled them into his mouth. "Sorrel, daisy, chamomile, burnet," he hummed to himself, "Back to Twolegplace I go. Not enough sorrel for the apprentices... Gosh, they're getting old." He felt a strange anxiety roll over him as a small seizure rocked his body, causing a blank stare and pawing at the ground. The medicine cat blinked hard as he was released from its hold and flicked his ears in annoyance. Every time he talked to himself, huh? He quickly stuck a few ragwort leaves and poppy seeds in his jaw and began to chew. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he'd have to explain himself to the traveling party. How fun.

Elmskip, Grousefrost, and Barleytuft were all waiting for him as he padded out of the den. He dropped the traveling herbs in front of each and started to swallow his own. He was sure he wouldn't have to instruct the toms himself, which was a relief. "Oh, foxdung!" he laughed, "This is the first time I've taken anyone to the Moonstone, isn't it?" The silver tom continued to snicker to himself, secretly grateful to have a practice run with the older members of his clan. Still, he took the opportunity to rib them about it. "Alright, Elmpaw, let's get a move on! Don't lollygag, Barleypaw! Let's have some efficiency, alright Grousepaw? One of these days you guys'll think I'm funny. Hopefully, it's before I go bellyup and have to instruct you beetle-brains from StarClan!" He swept his tail to motion them out of camp and towards the thunderpath beyond.

As the hilarity died down, Aspenpaw looked back and forth between his companions. "It shouldn't be a problem," he said bluntly, "Since I can usually feel when it's going to happen, but if I fall down, don't move me. I'll be fine after a few seconds, and panicking won't help. Just put your paws under my head so I don't hit it again. I definitely don't need more head trauma, right?" He punctuated the sentence with a dark smirk, and tried to redirect the conversation elsewhere. He had made his case, and talking about his "condition" wasn't exactly his favorite pastime.  

They reached the Mothermouth as the sun went down. Aspenpaw smiled fondly toward the moor, wondering if Finchstar was watching the sunset, too. Though everyone's nerves were frayed with thoughts of collapsing tunnels and suffocating clanmates, the tom feared nothing. If Grousefrost, Barleytuft, and Finchstar could all agree on this after what they had been through, how could it be wrong? He was glad, if nothing else, to leave WindClan in good and capable paws.

The Moonstone gleamed, and the four toms approached it from all sides. "If it's StarClan's will that we open the tunnels, we'll know in a just a moment." He sat down and nodded to the three toms, giving them permission to touch their noses to the stone.

The meeting had drawn to an end with proud cheers and cries of WindClan's name; when those had trailed away the Clan dispersed, and Barleytuft gratefully found the time to see to his son Cloverpaw and mate Graybriar before it was time to leave. He was grateful to see the two striking silver cats - two of his dearest loves - and he promised he would be careful and tell them everything when he returned. Their goodbyes were bittersweet, yes, but at least they were made possible. When he had tried to seek out his daughter Goldenpaw he was disheartened to find that she was no longer in the clearing. He hadn't the time to go looking for her, as much as he wanted to, for he knew that his patrol would be leaving soon. The meeting that had concluded a short time ago seemed the most likely source of contention, and surely his leaving wouldn't rectify it, but... it couldn't be helped. He said goodbye to Graybriar once more and asked her quietly to keep an eye out for their wounded daughter before heading towards the other patrol members.

The pale tabby warrior was only waiting with Elmskip and Grousefrost for a few moments when he noticed movement from the medicine den. Aspenpaw emerged, his eyes looking ever so slightly unfocused, and he carried with him a plethora of herbs. Barleytuft smiled at the silvery tom as he approached, and when he distributed the herbs to each cat the senior warrior wasted no time in consuming his share. He curled his lip slightly with distaste as he gulped them down, his dark hazel eyes glimmering with amusement. When his mouth was emptied he chuckled, meowing, "Those taste better than I remembered, but I really didn't miss them."

Aspenpaw swore and then immediately started laughing, and Barleytuft turned to stare with an amused and bewildered expression as the medicine cat explained, "This is the first time I've taken anyone to the Moonstone, isn't it?" Barleytuft snorted, a chuckle hissing through his teeth as he regarded the medicine cat with a playful glare at being called Barleypaw again. "Har har, Aspenpaw," he groaned, but he was truly amused. "We await your guidance, oh skilled warrior."

The medicine cat checked that his companions were prepared and nodded, signaling their exit. The patrol stood and left through the gorse tunnel, heading towards Highstones in the distance. They hadn't gone far from camp before Aspenpaw addressed them again, the playful tone much decreased. Barleytuft adjusted his attention accordingly, listening with pangs of concern as the young tom described what they might witness on their journey. The event had nearly become buried in the shadow of Brookclover's death, but the pale tabby remembered when he had gone hunting with Aspenpaw and Finchstar the fateful day that they discovered Aspenpaw's invisible, seemingly permanent injury. The thought of seeing it again threatened to make Barleytuft anxious, but his friend spoke with such calmness that it was hard to worrry to much. He simply nodded, trying to take the instructions to heart.

Barleytuft had found himself watching his companion and "guide" closely for the first part of the trip, but the longer they walked the more he saw Aspenpaw managing - sort of like a wobbly kit on their first time in camp - with thought and concentration. After some time he eased up a little, enjoying the sights, and he was grateful when they reached their destination. Fortunately, the patrol made it to the Mothermouth without incident. They did not stop before entering, and Barleytuft glanced around to meet the eyes of his Clanmates with determination - and uncertainty - before he dipped in behind Aspenpaw.

The darkness enveloped them, and he found himself holding his breath; of the tunnels he feared he knew this one of all shouldn't be among them, and as the light of the Moonstone radiated through the distant opening before them Barleytuft found it easier to breathe. StarClan, give me courage, he thought as he found the strength to pull air back into his lungs, let my worry become my strength so I can protect my Clan. At last they emerged before the Moonstone, and as the first time he had seen it, Barleytuft was in awe. He could feel the power of Silverpelt radiating from the massive object, and he looked to his medicine cat for instruction. A few words, a brief nod, and Aspenpaw sat to press his nose to the stone.

Barleytuft crouched, gathering his courage and resolve beneath him along with his paws. Slowly the pale tabby, washed silver in the harsh light, leaned forward to touch his nose to the surface. A sensation, cool and chilling, embracing and alarming, washed over him, and darkness swept over his vision.

The words Aspenpaw had departed with still ran through Elmskip's head. The young medicine cat was right, he had to show everyone what he was made of, both for himself and for the good of the Clan. Having taken the trip to Mothermouth once before, he recalled that the trip was a little grueling on his three legs. Now he was older and stronger and he was in the company of friends. This trip should be easier. The tom smiled softly in greeting as Aspenpaw approached with bundles of herbs for the party to eat. He placed each bundle in front of the three warriors and Elmskip bent down to swallow his. His nose wrinkled and tail curled in disgust at the bitter taste but he swallowed it down quickly, shaking the taste off.

There was a bubble of laughter as Aspenpaw cracked a joke and the tortoiseshell warrior raised his head, amused. "'Elmpaw', huh? I haven't heard that one in a while." A soft chuckle escaped his own mouth as he pushed back playfully. "Watch your mouth, Aspenkit, before I tell Finchstar on you." He flicked his tail to show he was just joking. The party of cats trotted out of camp through the gorse brush, wading out into the moor in the direction of the Highstones. They had been traveling for a minute or two when Aspenpaw spoke up again, telling them about his condition. The warrior regarded him with a serious expression. Maybe that was why he had said what he said at the meeting; he was disabled too. Elmskip instantly felt more of a connection with the younger medicine cat and promised he'd do what he could if anything happened.

The trip went on with little issues, Elmskip occassionally falling behind a little as he had to navigate the increasingly rocky terrain with his limited mobility. All the while he kept a watchful eye on Aspenpaw to make sure nothing happened to him. Finally the group made it to Mothermouth and Elmskip paused briefly at the entrance before following after Aspenpaw and Barleytuft. He stayed close to the other warrior on the way in, the four of them soon coming to the clearing holding the Moonstone. A little gasp escaped the tom's mouth; it was just as awe-inspiring as the first time he saw it. Swallowing his nerves, he settled down beside the other two and gently pressed his nose to the stone. All at once it felt as if his paws had dropped out from under him and he was swept down into darkness.

Although Grousefrost had been the first to volunteer himself in service of keeping the tunnels, that didn’t mean he looked forward to this journey. He padded towards the medicine den in silence, then observed as Aspenpaw dropped the herbs in front of them. He lifted a brow at the joke, a sharp huff and a small lift of his muzzle the only signs of amusement as he choked the bitter herbs down. He hated the way they tasted, how they lingered on his tongue, but he pushed past that.

Aspenpaw’s condition concerned him. The young medicine cat seemed perfectly capable despite his ailment. Undaunted and unalarmed. He felt approval for the young tom. Despite the paw that StarClan had dealt him, he was serving the clan well, in the best way he could. Grousefrost admired his determination, allowing him to lead the way and accepting it without complaint. If they had to be his trial run to make sure his other trips to the moonstone were as efficient as possible… then so be it.

Instead, he focused on the journey ahead. His blue eyes searched for the horizon where Highstones rested in the distance. Breathing deeply, he followed his companions towards where the cave waited for them. As the Thunderpath approached, his heart pounded with the roaring monsters. Watching their speed, but loathing it. It wasn’t until their paws reached the cool shaded sanctuary of the cave that he allowed himself to truly relax. StarClan would look after him. They always did.

He smiled at the thought of maybe seeing Ashstar again as they stepped into the cavern he had only seen once before. The bright glowing stone front and center as he padded towards it with the others. Picking out a spot that wouldn’t leave him crashing into another cat if he woke up trying to run. He watched the others, then pressed his nose to the cool surface. A calming presence welcoming him as darkness swallowed him in.

As Aspenpaw pressed his nose against the familiar rock, he began to smell StarClan forming around him. There was a musty smell, earthy and warm, and he opened his eyes at the mouth of a tunnel. A slim, scrawny looking warrior smiled at him, laying comfortably across from the medicine cat. He was young, with a glint in his eye that was incredibly childlike in all the best ways. His dark fur gleamed like Silverpelt, but the world around him was oddly earthly, as if he never left the moor. The sun shone high in the sky.

"Well, howdy, Aspenpaw," the strange tom said with a nod of his head, "Mighty pleased to make your acquaintance. You seem like you've got your quails in a row, WindClan, don't ya? Name's Nightrunner."

"Do you agree with our decision, then?" the medicine cat inquired, shuffling closer on the curious ground.

Nightrunner shrugged, his head rolling back and forth. Indecisive. "I lived in these tunnels and died in these tunnels. I'm on your side, partner, but my opinion ain't really the whole of StarClans'. The ones who do believe in y'all? Here we are, teaching y'all the works."

"You mean, you're teaching the warriors the works?" Aspenpaw half-smiled and pulled some grass from the ground, watching the worms wiggle back into the dirt. There should've been a regular trip for him: speaking to the medicine cats of the past, receiving a prophecy, and going home. Why did they torture him with the promise of tunneling, something his paws could no longer do?

"Now, diggin' ain't the only thing about tunneling to know. You got a good head on your shoulders, huh, medicine cat?" Nightrunner said, getting up and flicking his tail for Aspenpaw to follow him into the tunnel. "Now, what's gonna happen when you haveta come help somebody out of here and you don't know where to go? You have to know your way around, partner! Now feel the tunnel walls with your whiskers. Keep my scent on your nose. Nobody enters a tunnel alone, not ever!"

---

The tunnels were cramped and dark in an oddly comforting way, as if the void spoke to the medicine cat. It was more like the haunting feeling one got when standing over the gorge and their paws begged them to leap, just to see what would happen. Though, that could have just been Aspenpaw, too. Nightrunner's body was made to walk briskly in the darkness, with moons of practice making the sweeping of his tail and whiskers across the walls almost like the rise and fall of the sun. It was systematic, fluid, and he never doubted his direction. Every couple steps, his guide paused and shared his wisdom, like a mentor to an apprentice. It was a welcome feeling, the curiosity of something knew.

"You feel that wind, Jigglylegs?" Nightrunner barked over his shoulder. The nickname came about in their first leg of the tunnel venture as the ancient StarClanner watched him hobble along. Aspenpaw didn't mind. In the company of such a jovial and goofy cat, he felt no shame. He mewed his affirmation, feeling the cool rush of air hit his muzzle. "Don't bother following it. You don't know that's from up on the overworld, partner. If there's a deeper tunnel underneath ya, you can kiss sweet blue skies goodbye. Trust the scent markers, Jigglylegs, and you'll never get lost!"

Slowly, Aspenpaw began to catch on that the stronger the scent marker, the closer they were to the surface. He also knew that the dripping of water was a signal: leave now. WindClan understood Nightrunner spoke many tidbits of wisdom, knowledge passed down from countless ancestors, and they filled the young cat like no other. He grew to understand the secret passages that had been build underneath the territory, and he couldn't help but be in awe. But, as soon as he got comfortable, Nightrunner turned around.

"Now, think fast, 'cause this tunnel is coming on down on me. Cats who get stuck in the dirt are either gonna suffocate or be crushed, ya hear, Jigglylegs? If a tunnel comes down on you, dig that little silver muzzle out and trust whoever's with ya to get the rest off. Got it?" At Aspenpaw's horrified expression, the starry cat hooted with laughter. "I'm dead already, ya bunny! Now, go!" With that, dirt swallowed up Nightrunner's body from above, revealing the harsh light above. He saw the immediate movement of paws underneath the pile digging for air. As Aspenpaw squinted against the harsh light and climbed the dirt mound, he suddenly heard a gasp of breath and Nightrunner's coaching as his mouth was freed from the entrapment.

"Get the heaviest layer off of my chest, Jigglylegs. Noggin' comes next. Ya have to be ready for that big ol' sun when you reach the surface, partner, or you'll never dig me out. Don't bother getting it all off, just enough so I can move and haul myself out!" The medicine cat apprentice took a breath. He was getting nowhere with the stupid sun in his face. He shut his eyes and began to dig haphazardly, swiping pawfuls of dirt off of his guide until he felt the wiggling off the tom freeing himself. When he felt a body rise from the dirt, he was met with starry yellow eyes and Nightrunner's soulful laugh. "Now that's a dig, Jiggly! Hoo, partner, look at them paws go!" The dead tom shook out his fur, spraying dust into the afternoon sky.

---

The two toms relaxed in the meadow, the remnants of the collapse that trapped Nightrunner shored up in a team effort. Aspenpaw had been sure that he had nothing to offer to the tunneling cause, but his spiritual guide's carefree and patient teaching had proven him sorely mistaken. He was armed with knowledge that suited the duties of a medicine cat, and it truly surprised him how much he had to learn. It was comforting, to be treated as an equal. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed the pursuit of wisdom.

"Thank you, Nightrunner," Aspenpaw purred, "This means more to me than you'll ever know."

"Well, Jigglylegs, I know you think you'd rather be with the other folks... running around and chasing rabbits... but we've been watching, partner. You got talent, heart, passion. Channel that, and you'll never worry." The tom got up. "Our time is nearly up, partner. Y'all talk to each other about what you learned, ya hear? Never tunnel alone!"

Aspenpaw smiled as Nightrunner turned and began to climb the stars, and he shut his eyes, falling backward into oblivion. Down, down, down.

---

The medicine cat awoke, somehow exhausted despite all his sleep. He stretched his legs one by one, flicking his ears and blinking away the tiredness. He looked around, wondering exactly how different the warriors' experiences had been to his own.

The pale tabby tom wasn't certain when he had fallen asleep, or when he had woken up - well, "woken up" as it were. Barleytuft only knew that he was now padding along a glistening starry moor that smelled of young, fragrant heather and moist peat grass and full warrens of rabbits while a midnight sun, some heavenly light, glistened above. He sauntered along through the grasses, gazing here and there at prey picking lazily at plentiful seeds scattered on the ground. He was amazed at how easy they would be to catch, yet he wasn't tempted to try it even as he passed by a fat quail that just bobbed its head to watch him walk by. He slowed after some time and then stopped at last, gazing around again. Barleytuft remembered as he stood why he was in StarClan: he was sent to learn how to tunnel again from their ancestors.

The last time he had come, StarClan had been there waiting for him. Apprehension prickled at his belly; were they not meant to learn how to tunnel again? Was that why no one was present? A scrambling sound was heard from a strange direction, and Barleytuft's ears flicked to try to locate it. Sort of down, and in front of him, but he couldn't see--

"Hiya, legs!" a bright and friendly voice called as a small dark tabby face popped out from an unseen rabbit tunnel a few tail-lengths before him. Barleytuft jumped slightly and took a step back, looking surprised, but as the cat fully emerged from the tunnel, giggling, he began to chuckle too. The cat standing before him had a long, thick coat that disguised her small frame with stout, strong legs. Her sapphire eyes glimmered in the starlight and she tipped her head to him, purring, "I'm Featherfall - pleased to meet ya. My friends an' I have been waiting for you so we could show you our stuff. Which one are you?"

"I'm Barleytuft," he said, laughing. "I'm relieved to know you were waiting for us. I suppose we've made the right decisions, then. Did you call me "legs"?"

The small she-cat, Featherfall, giggled again and nodded, replying, "Yessir I did, an' no offense intended; you're just a little on the tall side to be pursuing the path of a tunneler."

"I want to serve my Clan and protect my family," he reasoned, and for a moment he feared that she wouldn't be sharing her knowledge with him. Was he not fit to be a tunneler? However, the StarClan cat purred and turned around, back towards the tunnel she had just exited, and waved her tail to beckon him forward. He moved beside her to look at it.

"Well that's just fine. Alright, Barley, you're gonna need t' get real good at crawling on your belly in some parts of the tunnels if you're gonna learn," she instructed. "The most important rule of tunneling is t' never enter a tunnel alone, not even for a moment." Featherfall's silvery whiskers twitched, and she said dryly, "You may have noticed I broke that rule when I greeted you, but I'm already in StarClan; tunnels don't collapse here 'less we make them, and I certainly won't be harmed if one does. Be warned that at some point while you an' I are trainin', I will collapse the tunnels. You can't die here with me, but you may wake from our dream if you're too frightened. Best t' prepare you for the worst in a safe place so you can handle it if it happens in the real world."

Barleytuft nodded dutifully, answering with only a little foreboding, "I'll do whatever is needed of me and learn all I can."

Feathferfall smiled and flicked her thick tail towards the tunnel. "Alright then, I will lead the way through some tunnels. We'll come outta one entrance, and then I want ya to lead us back the way we came. Understand?" He nodded again. "Alrighty, let's get going. Keep close t' me - whiskers t' the right wall, tail t' the left. Pay attention to where there're turns an' splits in the tunnel, an' which ones we take. When we come out the other side tell me what ya found, and feel free to ask questions on the way." The thick-furred she-cat ducked into the tunnel like a skilled rabbit, and Barleytuft hunkered down, following her as darkness swallowed them whole.

---

The journey seemed long, with several winding twists and turns, and as Featherfall had explained, there were several places where Barleytuft's limbs were bent awkwardly with his belly to the ground to pass through smaller openings. They finally drew out into the open air and Barleytuft marveled; he had no idea where they had started from! The StarClan she-cat had explained much as they traveled through the darkness, but Barleytuft feared he wouldn't be able to retain it.

She stood before him, as if reading his mind, and smiled. "You'll always be afraid," she stated, "and you'll always second-guess yourself, but that's a quality of a good tunneler. Ya gotta be on your toes, always considering the rules and the repercussions of your actions." Her dark blue eyes softened and she stepped towards him, reaching her nose up towards his. "Your nose, if ya please," she directed.

Perplexed, Barleytuft stretched his nose out to touch it to hers, and the starry world was suddenly swimming in a blurred vision. Dirt and mud seemed to cake his face and sting his tongue and throat, but he was not deterred as he witnessed seasons of Featherfall's tunnel hunts in a matter of moments. He was awed by her speed and confidence, and her wisdom passed to him in the vision. He blinked his eyes hard several moments later to see her looking at him with pride and weariness; was she a little more transparent than a moment before?

"You remember our deal, don't ya?" Featherfall asked, nodding her head towards the tunnel. "Lead us back, legs."

"Sure thing, Featherfall," Emboldened by confidence from his new knowledge, the pale-furred warrior strode towards the entrance of the tunnel and strode inwards. Barleytuft could see little, but now he could feel so much more: how the air died before him; how damp some of the walls were - and he kept away from those walls when he could; how packed the earth was; how close Featherfall was following him, though he couldn't see her. The places he had to crawl felt less uncomfortable and more familiar now, and he realized that above all the must and dirt he could scent the trail that Featherfall had laid for them the first time. Barleytuft was navigating the tunnels.

---

Barleytuft brought them from their first tunnel, and over the course of what felt like hours Featherfall continued to show him others. He experienced all sorts of tunnels; dead ends, caves, collapsed tunnels, shored ones, tunnels fallen into disrepair, and more. He practiced securing them, and identifying which ones were simply too dangerous to attempt. The starry cat guided his efforts, and his paws moved more confidently in the darkness.

At long last she brought them to a tunnel in a marshy spot of the moor. Immediately as she started padding downwards Barleytuft felt his neck fur stand up in alarm, and he protested, "H-Hey, wait, that one seems unstable."

Featherfall turned a devious grin over her shoulder, and she replied with a terrifyingly chipper voice, "It sure is!" Barleytuft took a step forward and immediately began to protest, but Featherfall's thick tail slapped over his mouth and she stated, "You had good sense knowing it was unstable; maybe that was the knowledge I passed to ya, maybe it was instinct. Ya gotta use that. I can't let ya leave this dream until I know you're be able to guide your Clan."

Barleytuft hesitated, then nodded. As she disappeared into the tunnel, she explained, voice growing more muffled by the moment, "Keep an ear out for my call for help, and an eye on the surface where I disappeared. You can save me - I promise." Her reassuring words gave him chills as he recalled the last time he had dug a cat from their earthy grave. He gritted his teeth and waited anxiously for disaster to strike.

The earth suddenly shuddered under Barleytuft's paws and his stomach lurched; a tail-length ahead the ground collapsed, creating a small ravine of roots and dirt. The warrior's heart pounded with terror as he skirted the edge, searching for any sign of Featherfall as he had once searched for his friends. Her pale muzzle suddenly wriggled through the dirt and she gasped, calling, "Over here!" She broke off in a cough and mewed some more, and Barleytuft raced towards her.

With much more grace and skill than he had expected to possess, he crept into the uneven earth and began to haul dirt away from her chest, slowly freeing her forelegs and hind legs. She did not move until he had cleared the dirt from her head, but then she rolled smoothly onto sturdy ground and away from danger, her coat dusted and caked with dirt.

Featherfall grinned at him, looking invigorated despite having just been caked in dirt. "Those long legs are pretty good for digging, I gotta say," she purred, "and it seems like you did learn some stuff from my memories. I hope it serves you and our Clan well."

The scenery began to flicker out, and Barleytuft realized that everything was fading. "Wait - do I know enough to keep my Clanmates safe?" he asked, and as he fell through the darkness she answered softly, "Time will tell. I will see you again, Barleytuft."

---

Barleytuft awakened slowly, blinking against the dying light of the Moonstone. He looked towards Aspenpaw curiously, and then towards his companions. What had they all dreamed?

(OOC: Not half as good as ya'lls :P)

‘Well, this is different.’ The pale and silver tabby tom opened his eyes to darkness. For a moment, he thought he was still at the moonstone, but there was no light at all. Not even a sliver of it came through the walls of earth that he could practically feel were around him as he turned his head. Carefully, he leaned forward, whiskers brushing the side, allowing him to feel where it was as he turned his head to the other. He found out the tunnel was roughly twice his width, and the ground began to tremble beneath him.

As suddenly as he had been in the dark, a shaft of light emerged as a bright, sandy tom leapt in with a gleeful shout that seemed to echo through the darkness. Grousefrost felt it echo in his ears as he winced away from the sunlight’s bright glare. The tom was staring at him as he refocused.

“S’about time. I thought you were supposed to be the efficient one?” Grousefrost frowned at the strange tom. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the lighting, he could see the pale sand colour was streaked with dark tabby markings and bright blue eyes. The tom stared at Grousefrost with a look of amusement as he stood there, confused.
“Awwww. Don’t recognise me? Suppose you wouldn’t, you lot did away with the tunnels long after I kicked the dirt.” He smiled cheekily as he tossed his thinly furred neck, as though showing off a gloriously invisible mane. “I’m Sandynose. For this little thing.” He pointed to a strangely pale pink nose.

“How wonderful.” Grousefrost’s voice was dry, a fact that didn’t allude his starclan visitor as he cackled as if Grousefrost had made the best joke ever.
“Awww man, I can see why they named ya ‘frost’. You couldn’t have given a more cold answer if you tried!”

“Can we please just end this? We’re wasting moonlight.” Grousefrost muttered as Sandynose laughed delightfully.
“What moonlight? All sunshine and rainbows out there!” He retorted, bouncing playfully towards Grousefrost and shoving their noses together. Grousefrost felt his hindlegs give out as a flash of white flooded his vision. Time seemed to slow for a moment as his senses reeled.

Meanwhile Sandynose was already bolting headfirst down a tunnel. His laughter echoing behind him as Grousefrost bolted forwards to catch up. For a moment, he thought he could. The tom’s tail tip seemed to be constantly a fox length ahead, until suddenly… it wasn’t. He froze in his tracks. The laughter echoed as he listened to the sound of it reverberating down the rocks. A split in the path before him. He paused, taking a deep breath as he tried to figure out the logical approach.

As he stood there, a breeze ruffled his whiskers. It came from the tunnel that was to his right. He padded into it, confidence bolstered as he heard more laughter. Then rumbling. The ground seemed to shake beneath his paws as he splayed them out to stay still. The laughter turning into a cry for help.

He needed no more urging. He bolted towards the sound without delay, seeing a large mound of dirt and a little pink nose sticking out of it. He clambered over the loose soil, digging as hard and fast as he could to relieve the pressure of the dirt on his chest and stomach. A distant memory of this very situation spurring him on until the tom wriggled free with a coughing laugh.

“Hoooo! Been awhile since I done that!” Grousefrost looked at the tom incredulously. His blue eyes filled with skepticism as he stared at the tom.
“You’ve… done that before?”
“How’d ya think I died?” The answer was so abrupt, he felt shocked as he stared at the seemingly worry free tom. He shook his pelt free of dirt and grinned a happy smile. “Naw, don’t you look so hard done by. It was my time. Just don’t travel alone, and get yer buddies to help ya learn. You got them big runnin’ paws, but they’re good for diggin’ too. Just gotta practice.” Grousefrost opened his jaws to answer, but the tom seemed to be fading before him. His body urging to wake up with the dawn, even though he was trying to learn.

Sandynose just grinned at him.
“You’ve all the knowledge ya need. I need ta go get with my friends, and you, need to get along to yours. Someday we’ll see each other again.”

The words followed Grousefrost to the land of the living, where he woke up blearily to a new day that felt… old. As though it was sunset, not sunrise. His eyes drooped with exhaustion as he slowly stood with a yawn.

Elmskip opened his eyes to find himself in an expansive field similar to his moors back home. It was a field full of luscious green grass, perpetual Greenleaf. Wind brushed against his fur as he got to his feet, looking around for any sign of other cats. There was no one around as far as he could tell. Last time he visited StarClan, there were cats waiting for him. Now, there was no one. Steeling his nerves, Elmskip broke into a lopsided trot, stretching long legs. All the while, he kept his senses peeled for any sign of life. Plentiful amounts of prey dodged his pawsteps as he moved, bounding away through the grass. It was really, really nice here...the warrior could see himself enjoying the afterlife. For now, though, he had work to do.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" he called, head raised. There was no response. Elmskip slowed his pace, sighing. Dark thoughts swirled around his head, as they were wont to do. They didn't show up because you can't do it. Go home. This is no place for someone with three legs. He shook his head from side to side, eyes closed. Maybe the dark cloud in his head was right. Maybe he couldn't do it. He should just go h-- "Howdy, Patches." Elmskip nearly leapt out of his skin as another cat appeared right beside him; he'd been too deep in thought to notice them approach. Hackles raised in surprise, he spun to stand face-to-face with a shorter gray-brown she-cat with green eyes similar to his own and long fur. She smiled pleasantly at him, hiding a laugh as he struggled to regain his composure. "Sorry, did I scare ya?"

"S-Sorry, I--...You just startled me, is all. You're here to teach me how to become a tunneler, right? I'm Elmskip. Did you...call me 'Patches'?" He turned his head to give his shoulder a lick to calm himself, looking sheepish. His face burned with embarrassment underneath his dark fur. He could feel the StarClanner's eyes on his body and his missing leg. Swallowing hard, he looked back at her, dreading what she would say next. The cat smiled again, her bushy tail waving curiously. "I did! Y'got patches on ya. Looks real pretty, I like it. I'm Gustleap! Nice t'meetcha, Elmskip. May I ask about yer leg? Y'seem to move around pretty well, were ya born with it?" She circled around him, examining his physique. The tortoiseshell tom stiffened at the inevitable question. "Yes, I was born with it. I manage. I...I know what you're thinking. 'Why is a three-legged cat here, he can't do anything,' or whatever. I...well, I just wanna say...I can do it. I've made it this far and I want to learn. I want to help WindClan. So please don't turn me away, Gustleap, I promise I can do it."

She stared at him, blinking, her star-studded pelt twinkling gently. And then she laughed. It was a kind, friendly laugh. "Actually Patches, I was gonna comment on how inspirin' y'are! Stars, ya gotta be the strongest cat in WindClan! I could never do what you do. I'm real impressed an' downright proud of ya. Good job, keep up the good work." She purred softly and leaned over to press her forehead against his. Elmskip leaned gently back against her, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He really needed to hear that and wondered if everyone felt that way about him. Gustleap pulled away and flicked him with her tail, motioning for him to follow. "Time t'get to work!"

---

Elmskip followed Gustleap's waving starry tail down into a dark tunnel, limping along behind her as he tried to make sense of this strange new world. There was an overwhelming earthy smell that filled his nose, blocking out nearly every other scent. After a long stretch of silence, the StarClan cat spoke up. "Smell that, Patches?" Elmskip paused, trying to figure out what she was smelling. "I, uh...you mean the dirt? Or..." She looked back over her shoulder at him; at least, he thought that was what she did. He couldn't see her through the darkness. "No, silly! The rabbit. Focus deeper, things're different down here." Sighing, the warrior took another deep inhale. Now that she had mentioned it, he did detect the faint smell of rabbit. "I do smell it, actually...Why do you ask?"

With a purr of amusement, the she-cat spun around with surprising deftness to face him. He could feel her whiskers brush his. "Lesson number one: don't catch prey down here! Ya might find yerself in a fox den, an' I've known cornered rabbits to kick a cat's chest in. Got it?" He swallowed hard. "I-I got it, yes." Gustleap's lessons continued on in that fashion; whenever she noticed something, she would spin around and tell him about it. Over the course of what felt like moons she taught Elmskip about the dangers of dripping water, how to leave clear scent markers as a trail, what a breeze on your whiskers meant, how to navigate back the way you came, and even how to rescue a cat caught in a cave-in. As the two cats were making their way back to the entrance to the cave, Gustleap suddenly split off down another path. This one ended in a dead-end. "Last lesson, Patches. Ya ready? Here, come up to this here wall." She moved out of the way to let the tom limp up to the wall of dirt, feeling his way with delicate pawsteps and twitching whiskers. "Dig through it. It ain't too deep, I wanna see how ya do." Elmskip nodded and struck out at the wall with claws unsheathed. He had remarkably strong legs due to having extra weight put on them and he was able to power through the wall with ease. Finally, something he was really good at. He broke through to the other side to find a similar tunnel like the one he just came from. "Excellent, that was great! I knew y'could do it, you've got a real set of legs on ya!" Gustleap came over and brushed her tail against her flank in encouragement. The tom let out a soft laugh, somewhat in shock. Praise felt so good. He could do this.

---

Elmskip lounged in the warm grass with Gustleap, sharing tongues and stories of the past. He finally felt himself begin to sink back into darkness, his cue that it was time for him to go. "Thank you so much for everything, Gustleap. I hope I'll be able to see you again someday," he mewed, offering the she-cat a warm smile. "Oh, you'll definitely see me again, Patches! Don't you worry. Y'all be safe out there, y'hear? Don't ya dare come see me too early. Good luck, Elmskip, I'm proud of ya!" Her bubble of laughter and bright smile was the last thing he saw before he drifted away again.

Elmskip woke up with a start in front of the Moonstone, raising his head to look around at his Clanmates. This was the happiest he'd felt in a while and it felt good. He basked in the feeling as he laid there, committing everything Gustleap had taught him to memory.