Mistpaw's Moonstone Journey

The sun had just started to rise when Mosspaw finished gathering the two herb bundles, placing them neatly within an oak leaf. Gingerly picking them up, she padded out of the fern-enclosed clearing and made her way to the center of the camp as she looked around for Mistpaw. Spotting him a short distance away, she padded over, setting one of the bundles in front of him. "Mistpaw, it's time to start getting ready, we should begin our journey soon. I'm sure you've heard already, but they are quite bitter. We can stop at a stream on the way so you can rinse the taste a bit, if you want." With that, she bent her head to lap up her own herbs before moving to the camp entrance to wait patiently for the apprentice to be ready.

Mistpaw turned to look at Mosspaw. Ah, yes, a journey to the moonstone. A nice time for a nap. Just another time to pretend the amazing "starclan" existed. He choked down the herbs. "Twere it not for the Starclan charade, I'd think you medicine cats are the toughest cats of all for eating these so often. I suppose I'm ready now, then." There was no logical reason he should go on this, except to please his father.

Charade? Mosspaw thought as the apprentice spoke after eating the bitter herbs. A flick of her white-tipped tail was the only response to his statement before she nodded and turned to walk out of the camp and into ThunderClan territory. Shortly after leaving, she paused at the promised stream before continuing on.

~~~Time Skip~~~

The journey to Highstones was long and tiring from ThunderClan, Mosspaw didn't even want to imagine how long it was for Amberdawn and the other SkyClan cats. At long last though, she and Mistpaw had arrived, safe and sound. The Thunderpath had been busy today, but a well timed lull in the patrols of monsters let the two cats dart across. After waiting for the sun to get in the right position, Mosspaw stood and nodded to the apprentice. "It's time. Once we're within the tunnels, neither of us should speak. The Moonstone should still be dark when we reach the cavern, but we won't have to wait long before it bursts into light. When it does, I'll give you a signal and you just have to lay next to it and press your nose to the stone. Our ancestors will send you sleep and share their wisdom with you then. Do you have any questions before we enter the tunnels?" Mosspaw gazed at the apprentice, her weight shifting on her paws slightly.

Mistpaw listened closely to all of it. It was all a load of crowfood, but why  not play a little pretend? He shook his head. No questions. Surely the amazing ancestors would be able to help him if he came up with any. He followed Mosspaw down the dark tunnel until they reached a stone which didn't seem that great... until the moon hit it. It nearly blinded him, it was so dazzling. True to Mosspaw's direction, he touched his nose to the stone, and he actually fell asleep, waking up in a weird lucid dream.

Another apprentice was coming to visit the moonstone. Murmurs seemed to echo through Starclan of who would challenge, or rather talk to, this young tom. Several had offered themselves forward or declared themselves to be the best cat for the job. But Wolffang saw him and was determined. After all, he was flesh and blood. If any cat was to bring some sense to this mousebrained nephew of hers, it would be Wolffang. As soon as he touched his nose to the Moonstone, the scarred she-cat stood before him. Her coat was as battle torn as it had been in life. Even though she was smaller than the apprentice, her demeanor gave off the air of a much larger cat. Her grey tabby pelt glistened like the scenery around them and her cool, yellow eyes regarded her brother's kit carefully. If this ignorant, tom thought he could send Starclan away with just a thought, she was ready to correct it. In life, she had been known for her sharp tongue. And the afterlife had yet to cure that.

"So, you must be Mistpaw? I've heard so much about you. The stars aren't blind, even if you might see them that way." Already there was a haughty tone to her words. Her tail, which had rested easily behind her began to flicker as she watched the Thunderclan apprentice. It only took a moment for the she-cat to rise to her paws and pad over until she was merely a mouselength away and staring down the bring of his nose, "I'm Wolffang and I'm supposed to bestow some great wisdom upon you, is that right? Although, I'm not too sure you would take it. I don't want to waste my breath on some ignorant kit. So, speak your peace, Oakstar's son. Give me what wisdom you have to offer, so that Starclan might learn from it." Her whisker's flicked and her sarcastic words were an accusatory hiss as she challenged him to speak. She was, truthfully, interested in what he might have to say. Hopefully he was as confident and sure as he pretended to be.

Mistpaw blinked. Some cat actually showed up? He shook it out of his head. Probably some random cat his mind made up. Maybe those herbs were giving him a weird dream. Of course! The bitter-tasting herbs. That was it. "I've been told much about you as well. Crowfood, mostly, but I've been told about the amazing Starclan. Who has not?" He decided not to let his annoyance show yet. How annoying could a dream get? Give me what wisdom you have to offer, so that Starclan might learn from it. Whoever this was, she did not seem like the type Oakstar had always talked about. Just went to show how many layers of lies there were. "If you really want to know... Accept that you don't truly exist. And if through some miracle, there were a paradise, no cat within it could have reality-altering powers. You are merely a figure of the imagination. It's quite simple. Reality is not that hard to grasp."

Wolffang stared at him for a moment. Her face gave little indication of what was running through her mind. This kit needed proof of Starclan's ability to touch the forest? Lichenmask would have had a field day with this one. While the former Shadowclan cat had gone through a vast array of circumstances in life, her faith in Starclan had been something that had never shaken. She believed, even if she believed they were stupid. That much hadn't changed too much. Did the forest cats really want to see Starclan stick their paws all over everything? The exiles and their preaching god cat had proven otherwise. For several moment, she made no motion to move, and simply allowed her eyes to bore into him as if he had grown a second pair of ear. It was interesting, to say the least, how her overly devoted brother to bear such an insolent kit. Ridiculous.

That was when the laughter started.

Rancorous boughs of snickering shook her whiskers and caused near convolutions throughout her body. To see such a battle worn cat chuckling with the bold humor of a kit was surreal. Wolffang took a second to recover. And when she did, the twitching of her whiskers still had yet to stop. Her yellow eyes were immediately sharp, pointed right into that of the tom's as if lightning would soon erupt from her gaze and pierce his, "I ought to pull Lichenmask up from where he rots and send him after you, show you the real power of his stars. But, I suppose you could be right. I'm sure tens on tens of cats often have some collective, fever-driven dream that results in the slaying of their kin. I'm not the expert on that because clearly I'm just a figment of your imagination." Honeysuckle sarcasm dripped from her maw and threatened to fall him right where he stood. She stopped right before him with parting words. Her breath wasn't to be wasted on a cat too stupid to listen. She could be hunting frogs for the hundredth time.

"Listen up, Mistpaw, and listen well before its too late to hear any longer: not everything right before your eyes is all there is to reality. I've seen things your berry-sized brain couldn't even conjure up. If you're short sighted enough to deny the facts of Starclan before you, don't bother following the code. It's as dead as these cats." Perhaps it would have done her some good to lean into the warrior code in life, and let it guide her. But there was one thing she had managed to learn from her time away; the code and Starclan went together like fish in a stream. Without their ancestors, the forest wouldn't exist. Occasionally a claw or two of guidance kept things in line. Mistpaw wouldn't stand here if it weren't for cats like Grasswhisker who foolishly trained their gaze eternally over the cats they left behind. She met his eyes as the the dream began to fade.

"Say hi to the great Oakstar for me. I could have fitted him with a worse name."

Mistpaw scowled as she laughed at him. Who even was this 'Lichenmask'? At this point, he was just confused and annoyed. This was useless. But... Don't bother following the code? Crowfood. The Code was just as real as he was... Right? He rolled is eyes and wished this dream would just end already. The landscape began to fade away, that he was glad for.