Goldenpaw's Moonstone Journey

The first of many, he said to himself. How strange, to be twice the age of a regular -paw and a few sunrises away from his own naming ceremony. It wasn't what he expected it to be seasons ago, when Aspenkit became Aspenpaw. The path he followed had been narrow and hard to see at times, but he was nearly there. He lamented on the nostalgia of being so much older than he was when he began as he gathered his travelling herbs for himself and Goldenpaw. On his way out, he promised Cloverpaw that the first moonhigh he could walk up Highstones himself would be the night of his own trip. The little scrap was fairing quite well, recovering at an adequate speed. Aspenpaw deeply enjoyed everything he could learn from the tom's condition. The entire litter gave him a kind of second-hand pride that could only happen in WindClan, and the apprentice he was guiding today was no exception.

He waited by the camp entrance, herbs by his side, for Goldenpaw to join him. One of the many joys of being so close to the Highstones was that they didn't need to leave until sunhigh. Of course, the apprentice had been excused from her duties for the morning. She needed strength to make the journey in the heat of greenleaf. He smirked as she approached, nudging her herbs towards her paws. "Eat up, Goldenpaw," he said teasingly, "Scarf it down quick and you won't even feel it."

Upon waking, the apprentice had been informed that she had the morning off to prepare for a journey to the Moonstone with Aspenpaw. No matter how badly she had wished to rest and relax, she couldn't help but feel guilt and discomfort that she was getting to take the step that her siblings hadn't yet. Mistypaw wouldn't be much longer, and a spark of pride and adoration grew as she had watched her sister go about her normal duties for the day. Her brothers, however.... One was stuck in the medicine den with extensive injuries, and the other.... A flash of the overturned, disturbed earth around the collapsed tunnel flashed in her mind, bringing with it the memory of his scent. She padded to the medicine den absently as she pushed the thought from her mind. Quailpaw was still out there, he had to be. Any day he would come walking through the entrance to the camp, or she'd wake up and he would be curled in his nest. It wasn't possible that he was gone. It couldn't be. She pushed her way into the medicine den, quietly announcing herself to her brother.

"Hey, Cloverpaw. How you feeling today? I don't have long to stay, but I wanted to stop by. I'll tell you all about it once I get back! I hope the herbs aren't too awful..." She wrinkled her face in mock disgust at the thought of having to eat the herbs, she had heard tales of how awful they were. She gently nuzzled her brother's cheek before bidding him farewell, backing out of the den with one last smile before she caught Aspenpaw's eyes waiting at the entrance to camp. Trotting forward to meet him, she smirked back before turning her clouded blue gaze to the herbs he pushed towards her. Leaning her head down to smell them curiously, her tail flicked as she turned her gaze back up to Aspenpaw, still leaned down. "They smell awful, Aspenpaw. Absolutely awful. Is this why you smell the way you do?" She teased back, tail flicking the tom's shoulder as she stared at the herbs a moment longer. Quickly, she licked them up, swallowing them almost completely whole as a disgusted frown fixed itself on her face. Standing upright as she coughed after finishing the herbs, she shook her pelt out in an attempt to shake the awful taste away.

"They taste even worse than they smell. Why do we eat these, again? They're awful." She said as she fixed her gaze back onto the medicine cat apprentice, the fur along her back still standing slightly on end, slowly laying flat as the immediate taste faded.

Cloverpaw was trying laying on his right side that day; it had been a few days since he'd felt any particular pains there, and his stomach was going to become one with the floor of the medicine den if he had to lay on it for one more second. When a familiar voice sounded at the entrance of the den, Cloverpaw's drowsy expression immediately cleared and he craned his head up as well as he could without causing himself discomfort. His pale amber eyes met his sister Goldenpaw's and he realized what her appearance meant. "Goldenpaw, it's your Moonstone visit with Aspenpaw today!" he greeted with delight. He gladly stretched up to receive and return her affectionate gesture.

As she began to leave, Cloverpaw's face glimmered with mischief and he called out after her, "Oh, don't worry - they taste really good, like milk! They just smell funny!" Well, she was probably smarter than that. It was worth a short anyways. With a chuckle to himself, he let his head flop back down, ignoring the faint hint of envy that she would get to make this step first. I'll get there. StarClan can wait until I'm ready.

---

Barleytuft hurried from where he had been grooming himself in the sandy clearing of camp. As soon as he saw his younger daughter, Goldenpaw, he had stopped to watch with amusement as she inspected the herbs and then looked with a dubious expression at Aspenpaw. Barleytuft chuckled to himself and lifted himself to his paws, trotting with a high tail towards his daughter and medicine cat. By the time he reached them, she had accepted her duty and fate and had lapped them up. He heard her comment, and Barleytuft laughed and moved to her side, pressing his body against hers.

He answered knowledgeably, "I may not be a medicine cat, and I may agree with you whole-heartedly, but I know something about traveling herbs. These herbs are invaluable for a long journey, my Golden ray of light. They probably saved our lives more than once as we were returning home from the lake." Barleytuft then licked the top of her head and nuzzled her cheek before taking a step away. "Stay safe, sweetheart. And you as well, Aspenpaw." He dipped his head at the other tom before sitting, ready to watch them depart and watch until he could see his talented daughter no more.

"Yeah, yeah, they're just plants," Aspenpaw chided, "You need to be of sound mind and body when you visit our ancestors. These herbs give you the strength. Try eating them every day for the rest of your life... One of the many perks of being the Clan Cripple!" He flicked his ears to signal that it was time to go, and they walked out of camp together, with the medicine cat slightly ahead of the apprentice. "You know, I used to hate that it wasn't safe to leave camp by myself. I loathed it. But I've grown up some, and I recognized that it's better to not be alone anyway. You never know what'll happen... I'm sure you know that." His reference to Quailpaw and Cloverpaw, he hoped, did not go unnoticed. One brother soared in StarClan. The other lay broken in his own den. It was a pity for both Mistypaw and Goldenpaw, he was sure, but they were lucky. Imagining what could have happened if they had been alive in the flood filled him with dread, his gut pinched and woozy. Frozenpaw's bloody corpse was his strongest remaining memory. He looked at Goldenpaw and saw hope. Her light could not die. He couldn't help but feel attached to the youth of the clan, and all they symbolized.

"We are WindClan. Of the other clans, we are the most like family. We sleep under the same skies, like littermates of the moor. Not to wax poetic, but your struggles never have to be suffered alone. It took me a very long time to understand that." He touched his tail gently to Goldenpaw's spine. Many years from now, he would remember this as the moment that made him reconcile his medicine cat calling. But for right now, a moment was just a moment. Highrocks beckoned in the distance. The sun hung lower and lower with each passing moment. The ground birds chirped and all was well.

He stopped for a moment a few fox-lengths from the Thunderpath, roaring with monsters in the evening light. Their eyes glowed and made Aspenpaw a little anxious. The roaring and their stink were vaguely dog-like, even if he was the only one who thought so. "Any questions before we cross the Thunderpath?"

"Dad!" The she-cat purred, pressing her head to his shoulder as her father approached quickly. "I'll keep that in mind, they're still gross though. Worse than a lizard. Cloverpaw is a liar, he said they tasted like milk." Ever since her first day as an apprentice, she had avoided that kind of prey, refusing to even touch one. She'd go hungry before eating one of those again... Purring as her father nuzzled her cheek, she nodded. "Of course, dad. We'll be safe, don't worry! I'll be home before you know it." Aspenpaw flicked his ears, motioning that it was time to leave, and Goldenpaw nodded. "I'll see you soon!" She called as she followed Aspenpaw out of the camp, following behind him as he staggered over the moor. She had gotten used to the pace he moved, and the different way his legs placed themselves, and was content to just travel along at his pace. As he spoke, her head lowered slightly, the shadow coming over her normally bright eyes. ".... Yeah, I know.... I wish that it wasn't the case though."

Oh, what she would give to be able to maybe prevent her brothers from going out... Maybe if she'd gone with Cloverpaw, they could have fought the dog together... If she had paid more attention, maybe Quailpaw wouldn't have slipped out of the camp unnoticed. She sighed heavily before her paws faltered with a sudden thought. What if she saw Quailpaw? What if he was gone? For a heartbeat she considered asking Aspenpaw about it before continuing in silence. Nah, she wouldn't ask. Not now, at least. Raising her head to look at him, she nodded, her tail wrapping to tap against his shoulder. "I know we do. I know that includes you too, you sassy grump. If you need someone to protect you from angry RiverClan cats, I'll be here for you." She smiled slightly at Aspenpaw as they continued on their way, approaching the distant peaks of Highstones.

As they neared the Thunderpath her pawsteps faltered, ears flattening against her head. The monsters were still as terrifying as they had been the first time she had seen them, and now Aspenpaw was expecting her to cross the Thunderpath, with all of these monsters patrolling? He must have feathers in his brain! She stared at him incredulously for a few heartbeats before responding. "I have two. First, do we have to, is there no other way? Two, and please forgive me, but are you going to be able to cross safely? What do I do if something happens?" She looked between the tom and the Thunderpath, up to the monsters passing at crazy speed and back to the tom's face.

Aspenpaw couldn't help but soften at Goldenpaw's reassurance. She was a good cat, full of strength even in the face of adversity. He dreamed for an inkling of that. "Goldenheart, they oughta name you," he teased, "The lot of you are all great cats. True warriors. You'll do WindClan right."

Crouching by the thunderpath, he felt Goldenpaw's bristling and fear. "I've crossed this thing every half-moon since I first became a medicine cat. Soon, we'll have tunnels that go under this thing that I can navigate. For now, you wait until you can't hear monsters from either side, and you run like the dark forest." He sat on her second question for a moment. She did have a point. Every time he has crossed prior, he had Mintwhisker beside him. He looked deeply into Goldenpaw's eyes. 

"You grab me by the scruff and drag me. You don't stop until we're across, no matter how much it looks like it hurts me. Okay?" With a nod, he turned to watch the thunderpath. The glowing eyes paused for a moment. Silence overtook the path. He flicked his ears and started in hurried steps, swinging his tail to keep his balance. Hobbling, hobbling... Something was wrong. He felt the aura again, and he tried to yowl out to Goldenpaw. It was a strangled, funny noise, and then his vision went blank. 

Flick, flick, flick. He stood in the thunderpath. His ear kept rhythm. Flick, flick, flick. 

ooc: mobile, no color yet!

"Goldenheart? That has a nice ring to it. Cloverpaw might tease me though." She responded with a light flick of her tail and a smile. "Thanks, Aspenpaw. You will too, you've been great, really. It can't be easy, taking care of everyone's wounds, especially like my brother's."

Her head lowered apologetically at the reminder that he had been crossing the Thunderpath for longer than she'd been alive. She nodded in understanding as she stared at the dark surface of the Thunderpath, glistening in waves of heat under the sun. As he paused, she looked up, meeting his gaze with a flicker of silent unease at the change in demeanor. Staring back, unblinking, she nodded.

"Okay. You can count on me, Aspenpaw." The two cats turned to watch the Thunderpath together, and suddenly it was silent. She darted forward, crossing it as swiftly as she would the moors, the hard surface burning the pads of her paws slightly. She reached the other side and turned, blue eyes searching for Aspenpaw. He was much slower, especially compared to her sprint, but as her eyes found him she noticed a weird look on his face as an even weirder sound escaped him and he stopped, frozen in the middle of the Thunderpath.

"Oh, oh no, oh StarClan no," she gasped as she sprinted back out to him, trying to ignore the sounds of monsters rapidly approaching from the distance. She stopped at his side and grabbed his scruff, dragging him towards the center of the Thunderpath. They reached the middle just as a black monster whistled past her whiskers, and she stood over the medicine cat apprentice as another one passed, going the opposite direction. She couldn't hear a thing, the roar of the two monsters having deafened her for the moment and the blood pulsing in her ears had ensured that.

The ground stopped rumbling under her paws, and she realized that meant the coast was clear - for now. Grabbing Aspenpaw's scruff again, she staggered as she put him on her back, her training had made her stronger, and it would be faster, and easier, to move with him like this rather than dragging him. His scruff would be better for it too, she was sure. He was stiff as the Outlook Rock, but once she had him settled she crossed the Thunderpath as quickly as possible, and once they were a few tail lengths away another monster whizzed by, battering her fur and making her stagger a couple steps further from it. Finally, they were safe, on the far side of the Thunderpath, and Goldenpaw gently slid Aspenpaw off of her back and onto the ground before laying perpendicular to him, tucking her head under his. She had heard him talk about thrashing before, and while it didn't seem to be the case this time, she wasn't going to take any chances. His ear continued to flick as she waited patiently, her paws feeling like they were on fire and her heart like it was about to burst.

When Aspenpaw came to, he was laying across the dirt with a furry head shoved under his. He blinked once, twice, thrice before understanding where he was and what had happened. He leaped up and immediately lifted Goldenpaw to her feet, examining her briefly. "Oh, what is with it with you apprentices and nearly getting killed over me?" he gasped, only really half joking. His flank burned from where he was dragged across the Thunderpath, but it was of no consequence to him. Goldenpaw and him were both alive and breathing. He smiled softly. "We almost had a very different meeting with StarClan, huh? I'll treat your pads as soon as we're home. I've got some fresh dock leaves that'll do just the trick." With a glance towards the sky, he realized they were running out of time and they needed not delay. He flicked his ears in the direction of Highstones, which was substantially closer now, and encouraged Goldenpaw to follow him. He allowed her a moment to process what had just happened.

"Thank you," he said quietly, "I'm okay. That was the less-bad kind. It doesn't feel like any time has passed when it happens. I didn't know where I was for a minute there. You thought quickly. Raventail will be proud." Aspenpaw wasn't great with the touchy-feelies. Communication for him came best in the form of jokes at his own expense, but he knew Goldenpaw would appreciate a genuine thankfulness a little more thank his average "I-nearly-died-again" jest. Highstones beckoned, and he began the climb.

She counted her heartbeats as time passed, taking note of how her breaths slowed after a little bit of time. She stayed still, afraid to move until she finally felt a stirring above her. The weight on her lifted suddenly, and she was being guided to her paws immediately after. She winced as her pads touched the ground, that pain hadn't gone away as readily as her excellarated heartbeat. The tom examined her quickly, and she purred reassuringly. "I'm okay, Aspenpaw, really, don't worry about me. How are you feeling? How's your side?"

A nervous laugh came as he continued. "Yeah, that would have been... Something. I don't even want to imagine Barleytuft and Cloverpaw's reactions... Or Graybriar and Mistypaw's and Quai- errr, Grousefrost's." She tried to recover the slip of her tongue gracefully, but the way her face fell revealed her true dismay at it. Why had Grousefrost been the next to come to mind though? Covering herself quickly, she added. "Grousefrost would say we hadn't been efficient or something, probably." She let out a light laugh as she followed behind Aspenpaw once again, shaking her pelt out as they left the Thunderpath behind them.

She stayed quiet as Aspenpaw thanked and praised her, and said that her mentor would be proud. Flicking her tail to his shoulder, she shook her head. "I would never hesitate to do anything for my clanmates, including you Aspenpaw. I'm glad you're okay, I was worried that you'd start thrashing around, which is why I got under you. I'm sorry I didn't get you away fast enough, and that I left you behind. Maybe we should try to figure out a safe way for you to travel, every time you cross. Any ideas?" She posed the question as they both began to climb, her mind racing with thoughts and ideas.

"Wouldn't a tunnel be a good idea?" he questioned the apprentice, "Really, I want another opinion. You get bored cooped up in a den with a bunch of sick cats all day, so you think of things. We have the capable cats. All we would need is a quick dig underneath the length of it, and problem solved!"

Highstones was a climb he did not really enjoy. Every now and then, a misplaced paw send a spray of gravel out from underneath him. He hadn't fallen yet, even when he was much less experienced, so he figured he would be alright. At the Mothermouth, he shared a glance with Goldenpaw before inviting her to follow him in. The deep cavern was much like the tunnels he had careened though before, but with more wiggle room than usual. As they entered the dark space, he was greeted with the ever familiar white rock, already set alight with sparkling moon shine. He beckoned Goldenpaw closer.

"Touch it with your nose. Your body will do the rest. Be careful in there, scrap!"

She pondered his idea over, momentarily silent. A few heartbeats passed before she nodded heartily. "I think a tunnel would be a wonderful idea. I can really start studying tunneling and see about getting Grousefrost to help! I'm sure he will if I explain how efficient it would be." She purred. following Aspenpaw up the slopes to Highstones. With every misstep, she would pause, giving the medicine cat apprentice time to stand and continue walking. He never fell, and she smiled at him when they reached the top. "Getting the hang of those legs, huh? I couldn't imagine being able to do what you do. Thank you. For everything."

She trailed off at the realization that they stood before Mothermouth, and looked at it apprehensively. Exchanging the glance with Aspenpaw, she nodded as she followed him down through the tunnels, pausing as they entered the cavern where the Moonstone was already brightly glowing, blinding compared to the darkness of the tunnel. Her eyes sought out Aspenpaw as he spoke, and she didn't hesitate before she lay next to the Moonstone and touched her nose to it. Immediately, there was peaceful darkness, and when she opened her eyes she was sitting in a starlit moor, surrounding by rolling expanses of open space to run and explore. As she gazed around, her eyes fell on a cluster of stars that was rapidly taking the form of a cat, and she called out boldly. 

"Hello? I'm Goldenpaw, who are you? Is this where I'm supposed to be?"

Redacted:

Brookclover was almost entirely contented to retreat to the recesses of Starclan and simply wait out the time until Finchstar would once join her here. Starclan was said to be some magical paradise with endless prey and bountiful peace. It was all just some star-studded, fox dong. Maybe some cats found their happiness here but there were few things. Perhaps the only joys were Ryepelt and Cricketstar, the sons who she had not met until after her passing, as they had died as soon as they lived. Somehow, that was still a jarring memory for her in death, even when both stood at her sides and attempted to provide comfort that could only be found in Finchstar. Since his first life had been lost, and the second soon to follow, the faint etching of his previous lives had become a constant companion. But it didn't soothe the longing in her heart, only worsened the pain of loss felt. When her and the kits would go hunting, it always felt like something was missing. As they shared tongues, the presence of Finchstar was felt. And it was made obvious he was not with them. She despised this plane of existence and only found solace in the pair of toms that accompanied her practically everywhere in this eternal land.

Thankfully, there was something to break the monotony today. A visitor was expected. One of Barleytuft's kits was to visit the moonstone on this night and Brookclover was expected to greet her. Although her disdain for the Skyclan born she-cat had not waned over the moons, stemming from the ridiculous claim Starclan had placed her in the wrong clan, Barleytuft had been her mentor and friend. She wanted to like the kits, she really did, and pushed away her distaste as she went to meet Goldenpaw. She appeared before the she-cat with an even more stunning appearance than she had in life. There was a still a special spirit that added a particular fire to the allure of her russet pelt and was only further spurred on by the regal gait she had maintained in the afterlife. As she neared the young she-cat, instead of dipping her head, Brookclover flicked her long tail in greeting before settling down before the apprentice and wrapping her tail neatly over her paws, "Welcome to Starclan, Goldenpaw. I would say I wasn't sure why you would choose to come here, given how lackluster this place it, but I suppose you seek advice. And I'm sure your father would prefer I gave you something more than the words of a resentful Starclanner." She paused to allow for the apprentice to say something before she continued. Behind her was the faint etching of Finchstar. An ever present companion and reminder of her lost lover. She could feel it even now and she had to force herself to ignore the sensation of its presence.

A beautiful she-cat was before her, and as Goldenpaw stared up she felt very... small. Like she still had much to learn, and to do, before she could be considered one of the great warriors. The image of the she-cat brought forth stories that she had been told from the time she was a young kit, of a strong and charismatic she-cat that had loved and been loved in turn by their leader, and had perished on the very moors that they called home. Brookclover was her name, and although Goldenpaw didn't want to jump to conclusions and potentially insult the she-cat, she couldn't help but think that surely this was her. She matched the descriptions the stories had painted, from her pelt to her whiskers to the strength that was obvious in her legs and behind her eyes. As the apprentice stared at her, awestruck, she noticed a faint outline of something behind her, but when she tried to focus on it she found herself unable to. As soon as she looked back to the face of the StarClan cat, however, it reappeared, distant but something that was clearly there. Shaking off the weird feeling of it, Goldenpaw dipped her head respectfully.

The she-cat spoke of her father, and that only further matched what Goldenpaw had started to piece together. Who else could this be? She spoke of being resentful, and how lackluster StarClan was. Casting a quick glance around before raising her head once more, the she-cat who looked similar to her father stayed quiet in her disagreement. The landscape was beautiful, serene and absolutely stunning... Then again, she didn't have a mate she had left behind... If this was Brookclover that is. "Yes, I'm sure he would too... I must ask, and please forgive me if I'm wrong, but are you Brookclover? You're like I always pictured, from the stories I've heard..." Only even more stunning face to face She thought silently, waiting for the confirmation.

"Yes, I'm Brookclover." And for a moment, she almost wished she wasn't. If that weren't the case then she would not have been condemned to the stars with the ghost of her true love as a haunting and unwelcome companion. But then she would have also not had the privilege of loving Finchstar. As she swallowed a knot in her throat, the she-cat struggled against the urge to turn back to his faint outline. Instead, she fixated her gaze on Barleytuft's daughter. She owed her mentor more than the stars could ever provide and this apprentice had done nothing to deserve her bitterness. Stealing away her resolved and biting back her tongue, Brookclover allowed an inaudible sigh to escape from the sides of her mouth as she prepared to say something. Imparting wisdom had seemed see easy and yet so challenging all at once in life. The russet warrior had been gifted with a persistent spirit that allowed her to overcome many difficulties. So why was speaking on behalf of Starclan something that stole her tongue?

"Well, there isn't much magical knowledge I can bring to you. Since my youth, Starclan brought little more than misguidance and destruction to the forest below. I don't want you to foolishly believe in their powers. Rather, forge your own path and build your own guides, Goldenpaw. Live for the clan and for the cats you love above all else. That's what matters. Even more than the moth-eaten ways of your ancestors, more than a moons old code, and more than anything else you could possibly imagine. Live for love. That's all that really matters." Brookclover's words grew with her own self-assured strength. The breathy ease and fervor of her voice was more reminiscent of the cat she had been in life than anything. Letting go the pressures bestowed on her by Starclan and leaning into her own beliefs allowed it to flow. She knew who she was and what she believed in, including of the place she now dwelled. And that was it. With a dip of her head, the warrior paused for a moment to lock eyes with her mentor's kit. Goldenpaw would to well.

She turned and walked past the first life of Finchstar, barely sparing it a glance out of the edge of her gaze, and disappearing back into Starclan.

Brookclover confirmed her belief, and the apprentice shivered. She was really face to face with the she-cat she had heard so much about from the time she was a kit, Finchstar's life love and such a valued member of the clan. Someday Goldenpaw would be remembered, just as Brookclover was. She would work her paws off, and be the best she could possibly be... Realizing she was staring at the starry she-cat, she blinked and nodded, paws shuffling in embarrassment. Brookclover continued after a brief pause, and Goldenpaw listen closely. Live for love... Grousefrost's face flashed in her mind, and she flushed warm that he was one of the first to come to mind. The shift in the StarClan cat's voice didn't go unnoticed, and Goldenpaw raised her eyes to meet the she-cat's, their eyes locking onto each other for a heartbeat before Brookclover turned and started to walk away.

"My litter mates and I... We've heard a lot about you. I'm sure you know that, already, actually... I hope to be as remembered and loved as you are. You left a huge mark on WindClan, and... I respect you more than words can say." She called after the retreating figure, and a flash of movement behind the back of Brookclover caught her eye. What a weird shadow, it moved on it's own accord... StarClan was weird, and mysterious. As Brookclover's back faded out of sight, a familiar voice sounded far behind her, and she turned to gaze out over the open fields. There, on a distant hill, sat a single figure pawing at the air. A closer look showed a butterfly, fluttering in and out of reach of the small cat, and Goldenpaw's heart seemed to stutter. The familiar pale gold tabby pelt, so akin to her own and her father's. As StarClan faded around her, a last laugh reached her ears as she breathed a name with acceptance, tinged with grief. "Quailpaw...."

She woke at the side of the Moonstone, tears in her eyes but a small, hopeful smile on her face. She stood, stiff from laying on the cold rock underpaw, and made her way over to Aspenpaw, taking a moment as she waited for him to rise to rid her face of the tears that had already been shed and taking a deep, shuddering breath. So Quailpaw was really gone... But he was frolicking in the moors of StarClan without a care in the world. That knowledge brought comfort... Perhaps she should share that comfort with Barleytuft.