Beepaw's Moonstone Journey

Mossbloom was distracted this morning, her dreams a weird jumbling of darkness and fear. StarClan had been silent for far longer than she had ever imagined they would, regardless of their anger towards the clans, and Mossbloom was... Well, scared. Terrified, even, for what the next moon, sunrise, heartbeat had in store for her dear friends and all the cats that roamed the forest. Perhaps it shouldn't bother her, but it did. She stared down at the herbs she had pulled, shaking her head in confusion at the pod of poppy seeds she had accidentally pulled out as well. Shuffling it to the side with a white paw, she sighed as she tried to focus her mind on the task before her. After what felt like moons, she got the herb bundles together and ate her share, wincing as she swallowed. Her eyes narrowed slightly, why did the herbs taste so bitter today? She had been eating them for so long it barely fazed her, so why was that not the case this morning? Hesitant now, she picked up the remaining bundle and stepped outside of the den. Distractedly, she pushed through the ferns into the clearing of camp, but the herbs fell from her jaws as she gasped, tail bushing out in slight terror. The camp was flooded with red light from the dawn, and Mossbloom spun quickly to see the blood-red sunlight filtering through the trees. A quick glance around camp reassured her (albeit only slightly) that all was well, and she lowered her head to gingerly pick up the herbs, eyes moving around constantly as if an adder was going to jump from a pool of red light or stained shadow at any heartbeat.

It was in this nervous state that Mossbloom approached the apprentice den, shaking out her pelt and taking a deep breath before entering to find the apprentice that would make the long journey. Beepaw. She smiled lightly as she regarded the tom, his large paws so reminiscent of his late father. Everything would go fine today, it had to. For him, for Ferretnose, for Beartooth and Harefoot. Nudging the tom awake gently, Mossbloom whispered. "Good morning, Beepaw. It's time for us to get ready to leave for Highstones." Turning as a pang of uneasiness struck her again, she ducked out of the den before the oddness of her behavior could be noted.

Beepaw hadn't really done much talking with Mossbloom outside of the pawful of times he found himself in her den. The raccoon's bite was long-healed thanks to her poultice, and he was rarely so clumsy that he needed medical attention (though he was particularly clumsy in any case!). He knew a couple things about the medicine cat. He knew that she was one of Ferretnose's favorites, but then again, wasn't everybody? Most litters wondered who was the favorite of their mother, but Cedarpaw and Beepaw could both confidently say that it was neither of them. Mossbloom was also very quiet, which made him nervous. He was too loud. He worried they wouldn't have anything to talk about on the long, long trip.

He was stirring by the time she found him in the apprentice den. He giggled at his denmates, who would have to tend to the elders and hunt all day while he took a walk. He followed close behind Mossbloom, both observing and pretending not to look at her at all. He felt supremely awkward, like he was in the wrong spot. Beepaw felt weird enough, having grown significantly since he joined the apprentice den. He felt as though he towered over the medicine cat. Did he make her nervous? Did he looked weird? He tried to flatten his fur. He noticed her stopping to look at him and froze. "Oh! Yeah! Sorry! Okay, I'm ready!"

Beepaw had grown considerably, something she hadn't fully taken note of until she discovered she was having to turn her chin skyward to look at him. Her eyes sparkled with happiness at the way the young tom had grown, he resembled Beartooth in many ways. Ferretnose must be so proud, she thought as her eyes softened in amusement at the tom's response. Nudging the herbs forward, she purred as she opened the folded leaf of herbs and presented it to Beepaw. "Eat these first, they'll give you strength and fill your belly for the journey ahead. They're bitter, so we'll stop at a nearby stream to let you get the taste out of your mouth." A sudden shiver ran up her spine, the fur rising along it as she looked over her shoulder briefly. The sudden chill passed as quickly as it came, and already the blood-red sunrise was fading into lighter shades of color, the medicine cat taking comfort in the more muted shades of brilliant color. Hopefully all would be well..... Turning back to nod at her companion, she waited by the entrance for him to be ready.

Beepaw chewed the herbs very little, opting to let the sticky, bitter leaves slide down his throat in the path of least resistance. The tom shuddered and winced for only a moment. He growled through the ick and followed Mossbloom swiftly out of camp. He didn't really need to wash his mouth, after all. He rolled his eyes. Leave it to his denmates to overreact.

The calico medicine cat was a bit of an enigma to him so far, and he couldn't help but glance at her in both curious and well-meaning ways. Suffice it to say, he knew very little about the more mature cats of ThunderClan. They weren't very fond of gossip like apprentices were, so word spread very slowly about them. He had heard some myths, at the very least. "C-can I ask a question?" he mumbled hopefully. "Gee, I'm going to sound mousebrained. I heard that you weren't born in ThunderClan, and that when half of the clan got swept away they found you in the place they ended up. Is that true?" Beepaw opted not to tell her the odd rumor that she was raised by hounds that the lost cats were forced to kill in battle. He had a feeling that the others told him that as a joke.

Beepaw ate the herbs without complaint, and as they paused at the stream he didn't seem interested. Chirping in slight surprise, Mossbloom continued on without saying much, the state of the morning still weighing on her. Every now and then, she'd look over to the tom, and a pawful of times found her eyes meeting his. A smile grew as this pattern continued, and she wondered what exactly it was that was on his mind. Finally the silence broke, and Beepaw started to speak, stating he would sound mousebrained before saying something that surprised her, causing her paws to halt for a heartbeat before continuing. "I assure you that you don't sound mousebrained, Beepaw. Part of that is true, the other part isn't. I was not born in ThunderClan, but I wasn't found on that distant shore. Falconwing found me when I was only a couple moons old, buried in a snow bank near the Thunderpath. I had just become a warrior apprentice when the flood came. Falconwing and Flintfang had adopted myself and another she-cat, Lilypaw, who had been left by her father in ThunderClan's camp." Meeting Beepaw's gaze, she smiled slightly as Fourtrees grew in the distance. "Would you like to hear more?"

Beepaw nodded very slowly in comprehension as Mossbloom recounted her story to him. That made much more sense. There weren't many cats alive for the Great Flood to tell their story, since it was so long ago, but the apprentice found immense pleasure in hearing another perspective other than his mother and father. Harefoot was stranded, Ferretnose mingled with tribe cats... it was all old news to him. But the shores? Now, that was interesting. "Can I?" he asked, politely and softly.

"Absolutely," Mossbloom purred, nearing the edge of ThunderClan's territory. "Lilypaw and I had started our training together, my mentor was Emberheart, and Lilypaw's was Falconwing. The day of the flood, we woke up to the water around our paws. I offered what help I could, checking on Pricklebush, when the flood waters came. The next thing I knew, I was waking up on the distant shore, alone and absolutely covered in mud. I found two other cats, both from RiverClan. One, an apprentice, had her hind legs crushed by a rock in the flood. The other, a warrior, was caring for her. We traveled together until we found some others, including Flintfang, Falconwing, and Lilypaw. My family was all together again. It... Didn't last long though. Lilypaw had gone hunting, and... She never returned. I've never seen her again. I still wonder what ever happened to her.... I hope that she's alright out there, somewhere." She swallowed against the hollow lump in her throat as she thought again of her lost sister as they passed under the great oaks of Fourtrees.

"That shore is where I got these scars, actually." Mossbloom paused, nosing the fur of her chest around until the four light pink scars were visible through it. "Flintfang and I had gone hunting, when I came across a raccoon. We fought it together, and I took a hit for Flintfang. I came.... Very, very close to dying that day. Amberdawn nursed me back to health, with herbs that she, a SkyClan apprentice named Leafpaw, myself, and a tom named Dewpaw of ThunderClan had gathered. I spoke to StarClan, while I was recovering, and I suppose that's when my love of herbs, healing, and helping started." By now, they had made their way fairly far into WindClan territory. Pulling herself from the past, she turned towards Beepaw, slightly flustered. It wasn't often that she was asked about her past, and her experiences. She supposed most were too nervous to ask, or thought she didn't have anything to say, which she supposed were true. "Ehmm... Do you want me to keep going? Is there anything in particular you want to hear about?"

Beepaw listened with open ears and wide eyes. "Woah," he whispered. "I know it was... really bad and stuff, the flood, and getting separated, but I kind of wish I had some cool story to tell people. The most interesting thing I ever did was catch a bird in mid-air. It feels like... I have to do something awesome or heroic. Because..." The apprentice stopped talking, mostly to think about the most inoffensive way to phrase his next remark. He pretended to take in the sights of WindClan's territory. It might've been pretty if he wasn't so unnerved by being out in the open. Didn't they ever worry about cover?

Highstones loomed ahead of them. It was taller than he imagined. Beepaw often underestimated heights and sizes of objects because of his own awkward stature. Highstones was like nothing he'd ever seen before. He imagined Harefoot, lost and hungry, on mountains much higher than anything in the forest, and felt great respect for his other father. Oh, right. Other father. "Well, you knew Beartooth. I didn't. I don't look too much like Ferretnose, and I definitely don't look like Harefoot. So that must mean I look like him. They all have so much to say about him. He was brave, and kind, and quiet. I'm not that stuff. I wonder if it makes everyone sad. I feel sad when I think about Dovekit... And I don't have to look at her every day." He huffed, blinking back frustrated tears. "I'm not Beartooth! I don't want everybody to look right through me at some ghost! I want to be Beepaw, not Beartooth's son. So I have to be better. Before Oakstar gives me my name. And it better not be Beetooth." He pressed his large paw to the base of the stones, feeling the cold rock underneath his pad. Looking up, the path seemed impossible.

Mossbloom blinked slowly, head tilting slightly as Beepaw spoke, the weight of his words concerning her until he started to reveal what was on his heart and mind. She nodded in realization as he continued, staying quiet until he finished. "you know... Catching a bird out of mid-air sounds pretty impressive to me. Beepaw, you don't have to live up to anyone's name, you're only going to break your own heart trying to fill the paws of some other cat. The greatest, most heroic thing you can do for yourself, is to simply be yourself. That's all that Ferretnose, Harefoot, and Beartooth could ever want for you. That's all anyone in ThunderClan could want for you. You do look like Beartooth, and I know a lot of cats, Ferretnose included, see him in you. He was our deputy for many moons, but that doesn't mean you are him. I was born to a kittypet and a loner, and bear resemblance to them, yet here I am as ThunderClan's medicine cat, guiding you to the Moonstone as you prepare to become a warrior. Beartooth was.... Well, he had his own share of secrets and hardships."

Was that a hint of bitterness in her voice? She hoped not. "I want you to be who you are, and what you want to be, rather than what you feel you need to be. I think you're pretty amazing already." She flashed a smile to the tom as she laid her tail over his shoulders, following his gaze up towards Mothermouth. "I've found the hardest thing is taking the first step. The uncertainty, and fear, of this new thing is difficult to overcome, but once you have, the next step is always easier." With that, she started walking up the slope, turning to look back to him. "And if Oakstar names you Beetooth he'll be getting a piece of my mind, don't you worry about that. Beetooth just sounds silly, almost as silly as Beebloom." She purred as she beckoned the apprentice to join her. "Is there a name you'd hope to receive?"

Beepaw considered his options for names. There were only so many things that made sense for a bee-cat. He remembered the kit days, when he played tribes with his denmates. "When we played tribes, I was always Bee that Flies Over Puddle. Maybe Beepuddle, then, if that's not super RiverClanny," he mused. Mothermouth was wide and dark, and he swallowed his fear with everything he could. Mossbloom wouldn't lead him right into trouble, anyway. He followed her down with vigor. "I think I like Beeflight. But I guess it doesn't have to make sense for my name, as long as it makes sense for me. I trust Oakstar, I think he'll pick a good one."

Soon, they were in the cavern. The Moonstone was bigger and brighter than the stars in the sky, and the starkness of it overwhelmed him. It was nearly anticlimactic. There was no grand chorus of StarClanners to greet him. Only he and Mossbloom stood there, admiring the enormous rock that would allow him to enter the mysteries of the sky. Or something like that.

"Well, wish me luck," he whispered breathlessly. "If it's someone you know, I'll tell them you said hi!"

Beepaw touched his nose to the stone and shut his eyes, letting his mind quiet itself as he drifted off to a deep, motionless sleep.

Despite having little to fear in the afterlife, Bearmask couldn't help but be nervous as Beepaw drifted into the realm of StarClan. She had never gotten the chance to speak to somebody like this - she had given lives to a pawful of ShadowClan leaders but...To speak to such a young cat was both an honor and something that was rather terrifying. She took in a deep breath as she stepped forward through the gentle fog that clung to the ground of the clearing the two had found themselves in, forcing on a little smile as she approached.

"Greetings, young Beepaw," she purred, trying her best to mask her fear and doubt over this exchange. It wasn't a good look for the cat who was suppose to give him advice doubting...Everything about this but in a odd way, the doubt felt...Natural. Like home, as it had been her native state when she was alive and had only found true courage among the fields of StarClan. "I am Bearmask, once a member of ShadowClan. I have been chosen as the Stars believe that I might be able to help you with whatever weighs you down..." she pause, tilting her head as her eyes glimmered. "So, what do you seek help with? What knowledge do you desire? I will help as best as I can."

Beepaw peered out into the starry nothingness, feeling very much aware of himself and the space he was taking up. He rose to his paws, the dreaminess of the ethereal landscape steadying his legs. The cat that greeted him sounded kind and mature, and she smelled like sweet pine and aster. He knew she must have been from ShadowClan before she could say it herself. What knowledge did he seek? That was a tough one... but he certainly was building up to it with Mossbloom.

"Hi, Bearmask. You have a nice name," he started, coming closer. "I feel like there's so much behind me that I can't look forward. All I know about my father is that he looked like me and he was a deputy. My mother has one of the best noses in ThunderClan. My other father fought a badger and survived it. And I don't know where that leaves me. I don't know who they want me to be... I don't know who I want to be! How is Oakstar gonna pick a name for me if I don't do anything interesting or helpful?"

Beepaw huffed, dragging his extra-toed paws against the dirt, kicking up glittery dust. "And I'm always so scared. I'm scared I'll look empty-headed and embarrass myself every time I talk. I'm scared I'll run away from a fight and get everybody killed. I'm scared I'll go to StarClan having done nothing to prove myself as a warrior. I feel so ridiculous."

Bearmask titled her head with a smile as the young apprentice complimented her name, a purr rising from her but it soon fade as he quickly started to go on what weighed him. ...Ah, so that was why she had been chosen. Every fear that Beepaw expressed was something she knew all to well. She tried to steel her gaze, remaining silent as the apprentice huffed and vented about his confusion on living up to his family. "...I can sympathize with you, little one," she finally said as he finished, settling down as she curled her tail around her paws. A sheepish look crossed her face as she thought upon her past, ears slicking back. "I was...Scared. Cowardly when I was alive. Doubted every choice I could ever make and feared I wouldn't live up to my father - he was the leader of ShadowClan, after all. Yet he saw something in me that I didn't, he chose me to be his deputy when his previous one died and...I failed him. I grew ill not long after and in my self-doubt, didn't have the strength to fight it."

She paused, raising her head in a thoughtful manner before she turned to look at Beepaw. "In StarClan, I have grown to accept that often how we see ourselves is far from how others do. That we are measured by own our merits, not truly of those we are related to. Perhaps your family has done great things, but you are still your own cat - and that is who they want you to be. Trust me when I say that nobody wishes for you to be a copy of your parents," she purred softly, giving him a soft smile. It had taken time for her to realize that there was something...Nice in having faith in you. "Every choice you make is yours and that is what makes you special - even the choices that you might regret on some level. But with those choices, you can learn from and be better. Besides...Others have the ability to see things in us that we can be blind to - I had a tom head-over-tail in love with me and I never thought I would have been good enough for him... If you fear to live in your family's shadow, that is where you will remain. Be true to you, Beepaw. Take courage in your choices as they are yours and that will be enough to prove yourself to anybody who matters."

Beepaw listened with quiet reflectiveness, mulling over Bearmask's words. He felt that, perhaps, everything she had said was something that had come from within him, that he never allowed himself to explore. Therefore, he decided, it was very good advice. It was forcing him inward... which he had never really done before. Always external, looking for the approval and praise of his superiors, seeking that which would bring smiles. What made him smile?

For a moment, a face found him in the fog of his head. Grey fur, leafy green eyes. He blinked. What was that which Bearmask said, about a tom being head-over-heels for him? Heh.

"Is it a bad thing to be in my own head this much?" he asked timidly. "I think a lot. More than some cats seem to. It's not always bad stuff, or worries, or anything like that. I just like to wander in my head sometimes. Maybe a little too much. They think I'm not paying attention, but I always am. It's usually what I'm thinking about."

Bearmask smiled softly, tilting her head as she looked at him. "Of course not, little one. We are all different - our...Heads all work differently. Some think too much, some think too little. Some seem to know always the right thing to say, some struggle to come up with the words to describe the simplest thing. Take this to heart, Beepaw - everyone is different," she cooed, leaning forward as she curled her tail around her paws. It was always a hard lesson to understand - that you could never expect how others would react, how others would think of one matter because they were all different. She spent every moment dreading that she was a failure, that they others had to see her in that way but...They hadn't. She had been so wrong in how she had seen the world, it was a lesson she wish she had learned sooner.

"There is no shame in the idea that you are not like another, not even your own family. What works for another cat might not work for you. How you think and live is simply how it is, even if others might have trouble understanding. Everything that makes you different is what makes you special. But even then, I can assure you that you are not alone. There are many cats in the forest that have something about that makes them different and they fear themselves the fact that they are not like the others, that they might be the odd one out. Take a look around and you will see many who do not fit the mold that one expects a warrior to be - but they are thriving. You will as well, Beepaw. Just be you, and it will be enough in any way that truly matters."