Larkpaw's Moonstone Journey

Aspenheart prepared the traditional travelling herbs and rehearsed his traditional speech, though nothing about this journey would be traditional. On any other trip to the Moonstone, he would be calling upon StarClan to guide this apprentice. But now, with Finchstar dead and WindClan having officially renounced these "Righteous Ones," Aspenheart had a different method in mind. For days, he had been meditating on how to best summon benevolent ancestors of his home clan. Now, he felt he would be able to insure that Larkpaw would not be harassed or pestered by any onlookers. He would make sure of it.

He stumbled and hobbled out into the cool Newleaf air, smelling the flowers as they wafted from the meadow. He hunted for Larkpaw's pelt and mewed when he saw her, motioning for her to join him near the gorse tunnel. She had already been told at dawn that she would be taking the initiative journey. Aspenheart assumed she had enjoyed a day without any hunting or patrolling tasks. He certainly enjoyed lounging about. His legs weren't what they used to be. "If you're ready, we will go," he said simply. "Don't worry. I promise that if there's any funny business, we'll turn around and come straight back to camp. Deal?"

Larkpaw gave a small nod to Aspenheart as he entered the den. He was pretty blunt, but his offer was a good one, so she murmured, “Deal.” A thought struck her, and she added, “The other apprentices say you have herbs that I have to eat, and that they taste super bitter. Is that true?” Her questions were really just so she could avoid the topic of the Righteous Few. She’d spoke out at the gathering. Would StarClan actually speak to her? Or would they do the same thing they’d done to Finchstar? If they killed a leader without thought, they’d have no qualms about doing the same to her, a mere apprentice. But she didn’t voice the question.

"That's what these are for," he said, pushing the bundle of herbs towards Larkpaw. "It's not as bad as you think, but that's coming from the cripple-cat who has to eat them every day." He chuckled in spite of himself. He waited patiently for Larkpaw to finish, expecting the sour face that she made, and led her out of camp.

---

When they reached the Mothermouth, it was dark, and the stars that speckled the sky looked quite dull to Aspenheart. He was suspicious, vigilant, and prepared for the worst. "Follow me," he murmured. "Stay right on my tail, or you might get lost. Let's go." The Moonstone glowed strongly, illuminating the two living cats who entered. The medicine cat shifted his gaze from side to side, walking towards the Moonstone hesitantly. "The Righteous Few are not welcome here!" he announced to the walls, listening to his own nasally voice returning to him. Ick. "We speak only to the spirits of WindClan! This apprentice will not hear from murderers!"

Aspenheart turned to Larkpaw and nodded to her. Whether his communication of will had worked or not was unclear to them both. There was no way to really tell what would happen when Larkpaw touched the stone. The medicine cat trusted that, whatever may come, no harm would come to the apprentice. "Good luck," he whispered as he sat down to watch the constellations swirl overhead.

Larkpaw grinned at Aspenheart's unexpected joke before wolfing down the herbs. She winced, but liked her tongue over her lips, and didn't say anything else about it.

*line break since it's not working*

Larkpaw nodded and touched her nose to Aspenheart's tail. When she got to the cavern, she just stared at the moonstone for a good minute. She dropped into a crouch and tapped her nose to it.

When Larkpaw awoke, she was on the moor. She glanced around, looking for someone. Anyone. Wasn't there someone she was supposed to meet? She started as she saw a cat approaching her from behind. "Why are the Righteous Few so stupid?" she asked, then cursed herself for being so blunt.

"I have a mind to ask them the same," the tom-cat stated with a faint growl. "They have overextended the reach of their self-important claws." A tall, long-bodied, slender-legged sandy tabby tom with star-speckled fur stood with a non-threatening stance, gazing at Larkpaw with deep, thoughtful dark hazel eyes. He dipped his head respectfully to the patchy tabby apprentice. "My name is Barleytuft," the tom introduced himself in a bit more of a kindly tone. "I fell to whitecough this past leaf-bare and left WindClan behind. Finchstar was a brother to me, chosen by love rather than by blood or by any code. Aspenheart is my brother in that way, as well. What they have experienced - what WindClan has experienced - is unjust."

His long striped tail lashed, and he shook his head faintly. "Larkpaw, you're brave to have made this journey in these dark times," Barleytuft told the she-cat, managing a small smile. "I only know so much, but if there's anything you wish to ask, I am here to pass my wisdom to you."

Larkpaw listened, nodding for a few seconds. She murmured, "You- StarClan- so... you're not with the Righteous Few. You're against them. But you're StarClan. Are they really StarClan? Could a StarClan cat do that, kill Finchstar, for what? For their own opinions? They shouldn't be in StarClan, they should be in the dark forest. But how are they here? How..." Her voice trailed off and she gave a small sigh. "It's... yeah, I get worked up about this, and I blabble a bit. Do you- do you know about Morningpaw? About what we're doing?" Oh, she hoped they did. It would be worst for them, but she wasn't going to give the Righteous Few the satisfaction that they were just mice, following orders blindly. No, they were cats. Cats with teeth and claws. Cats who followed the code better than the Few ever had.

Barleytuft nodded once or twice as Larkpaw began to piece together the differing views of StarClan and the Righteous Few, recognizing them as separate entities. In some ways, they were, but unfortunately they were also just as much StarClan as any cat there. At one time, generations ago, they had earned their places in the stars, but they had grown twisted and detached from the lives of the living based on what Barleytuft could see. Barleytuft nodded once again when Larkpaw stated they should be in the Dark Forest, but he murmured ith a slight wince, "Hush, none of that." Whether he agreed with the sentiment or not, the veil between life and death was already so thin; the veil between immortal suffering and eternal peace was thinner still. Barleytuft listened as the apprentice collected herself, and then asked him about Morningpaw.

The tom sucked in a short, sharp breath and glanced around, fearing to see glittering eyes in the expanse around him even though he knew they wouldn't come where he didn't welcome them - not after Wolffang. They had bigger things to worry about than he and an apprentice. Still, Barleytuft wouldn't take the risk. He answered slowly, "Yes. I know, and... I'm not the only one." His eyes shone with concern, and he thought of not just Morningpaw but his children: Clovertwist and Goldengale had gotten themselves involved in the revolution that was building. "The ancestors of WindClan are watching - the pure and the poisoned. Know that I am proud of you... you and every cat who joins the cause." His claws flexed slightly. "You are the true strength of WindClan."

Larkpaw gave Barleytuft a small, pained smile, that somehow carried the weight of everything she'd experienced recently. "Thank you. I-I think I'm ready to wake up now." And just like that, she did.

Barleytuft could see the pain and sadness in Larkpaw's eyes, but there was understanding and acceptance as well. She thanked him meekly, and the pale tabby tom dipped his head. He looked up as she murmured that she was ready to wake up, and his whiskers twitched. "May you wake swiftly and have a safe journey home, then, Larkpaw," he answered her gently. The starry landscape began to fade, and Barleytuft took a breath, hesitated, and then said, "Will you tell Aspenheart... my brother..." He paused. A small smile flickered on his face before he faded. As he disappeared, his voice echoed into the darkness, "Tell him he should get more sleep." And then he was gone.