Thrushpaw's Moonstone Journey

Mossbloom quietly shuffled around the medicine den, careful not to disturb Daisybloom where she slumbered. The nights had started to grow cold, and the medicine cat felt it more than she previously had. Shuddering as her short hair fluffed up against the morning chill, the older she-cat finished gathering the necessary herbs for the journey ahead, and wondered to herself just how much longer she would be able to make the trek to Highstones. She was beyond grateful for Daisybloom stepping in and thankful for her company in the den, and though thinking of the future wasn't the most pleasant thing still she was comforted that her beloved clan would be in good paws. Perhaps she would talk to Nettlestar soon about retiring, and enjoy a few peaceful moons just as her first mentor had.

She was lost in her thoughts as she picked up the herb bundles and instinctively moved towards the apprentice's den. News of Aspenheart's death had reached her as she recovered from the sickness that had gripped her, and she had mourned for the lanky, grumpy old tom. She mused if she had done well for her clan, despite all that had happened since she had been found by Falconwing. Would Flintfang have left his mate for another? Would Lilypaw have survived? What would have happened to Pricklebush, would he have found a different apprentice to teach the ways of herbs and healing and discerning StarClan's messages? She realized with a jolt that she had been staring at the apprentice den in her haze of thoughts, and pushed her way in to search for the apprentice that would join her on what could very well be her last Moonstone journey. "Thrushpaw.." she mewed softly, as gently as she would greet a kit taking their first breath. "It's time to go. I'll meet you by the camp's entrance." Backing out of the cozy den, the calico settled by tunnel that led to the forest, gazing at the frost that delicately coated the grass of the camp floor.

Strangely, Thrushpaw’s life had come full circle. She spent the ever-colder nights curled up beside her siblings, and the ever-shorter days wondering if she’d be the first of them to move ahead. It had to be soon. Her mentor was a leader, her father was deputy, her closest friend slept in the warriors’ den—time was passing at a blistering pace, something she’d realized when she’d been pulled aside and told to prepare for her trip across the forest. Moonstone journeys and warrior names went paw in paw. Yet though it was daunting, it didn’t terrify her. Kits stopped being kits at six moons, no matter how they felt about it; apprentices became warriors only when they were ready. Therefore, she was ready, or within a whisker’s length of it.

She woke to a cat-shaped figure hovering over her and a gentle voice in her ear. Realizing nodding would take energy she wasn’t awake enough to grasp, she squinted at the calico she-cat through bleary eyes and murmured a jumble of syllables to show she’d heard. As Mossbloom retreated, Thrushpaw sat up and stretched. It’d been moons since the dog had torn her back open, and though she’d since gone to the medicine den for assorted scrapes, thorns in paws, and exactly one bee sting, she tended not to linger or speak beyond answering the necessary questions. ThunderClan’s medicine cats were mysteries to her, the older, quieter Mossbloom more so. She doubted that would change today…but she wondered.

The tabby stepped around her sleeping denmates and into the morning. Mossbloom sat near the tunnel as promised, observing something at her paws. Without a word, Thrushpaw stopped beside her to peer at whatever she’d seen, which turned out to be frost. Like Pinefrost, she thought with a flash of a smile. It’d been a recent change, but a friend’s name was worth remembering. Her eyes narrowed as she bent down to get a better look. To someone who had no memory of them, the little crystals on the grass seemed otherworldly. Did the Moonstone look like that?

Right. The Moonstone. With two very deliberate blinks, Thrushpaw straightened up. ”Um,” she said, regaining her bearings. ”I’m ready.”

A figure approached and stopped by her side, Mossbloom had heard and scented the she-cat as she made her way over, but the medicine cat did not react. Not even a blink as she studied the frost carefully, almost as if entranced by the delicate coating of white on the blades of grass. After a period of silent companionship, which Mossbloom took comfort in, despite not really knowing the young she-cat (a fact she admonished herself for - she should know all of the cats in the clan well enough, she did care for them with Daisybloom) the younger cat straightened and spoke. Shaking her head free of the daze she had been in, she nodded and gently nudged the bundle of herbs in front of Thrushpaw. "Here, eat these, they'll give you strength on the journey and keep your stomach feeling full. It will be a long time before you can eat again." She mewed, bending her neck to lap up her own bundle of herbs before standing and waiting. When the she-cat was finished, she led the way out of camp and into the chilly forest beyond.

~Time Skip~

The day had gotten warmer as the sun rose in the sky, melting away the frost that had thinly blanketed the ground. A couple leaves had fallen around the pair as they meandered through the forest before passing through Fourtrees, stopping for a small break to drink and rest their paws before emerging on WindClan's moors. The golden gorse and tall grasses gently rustling in the wind ruffled Mossbloom's ears, and though the sun was warm on her back the wind had brought a subtle chill with it. Now they stood before Mothermouth, Mossbloom turning to gaze at the apprentice and say the words she had so many times before. "We'll go to share tongues with our ancestors soon. Do you have any questions? The moon will light the Moonstone, and you will simply press your nose to it after laying next to it. StarClan will handle your path from there." She mewed softly, gazing towards Mothermouth and the cavern that was hidden within. Once Thrushpaw was ready, she turned to lead the way to the Moonstone, her paws slipping into the path taken for generations with ease before emerging into the cavern. The moon was just reaching the Moonstone as it shine brightly, magnificent and breathtaking. Nodding her head to the apprentice, Mossbloom gestured towards the Moonstone silently.

Enthralled by the frost as she’d been, Thrushpaw had missed the twin bundles sitting nearby. Now the older she-cat pushed one toward her, explaining what they were for as Thrushpaw leaned in to investigate. A day without food. Not unlike a standard patrol, except if Mossbloom was right (and why wouldn’t she be?), she wouldn’t feel hungry at all. Where had these been during her training? She lapped them up in a rush. Her nose wrinkled. Maybe that was why they didn’t give these to new apprentices—if she’d had to eat these before every patrol, she’d have gone right back to the nursery. At least it was only once. Mossbloom stood, finished with her own herbs. After twisting over her shoulder just long enough to stick her tongue out so the medicine cat wouldn’t see (not that it helped with the aftertaste), Thrushpaw hurried out of the clearing after her.

The frost melted between one clearing and the next. Thrushpaw didn’t have much time to mourn it. In the next moment she and Mossbloom were at ThunderClan’s section of Fourtrees, then beyond it, then past the trees entirely, facing a swaying sea of dry heather and grass. WindClan. She’d never seen so much as a sliver of their territory; now she got to cross it. This last leg of their journey brought them to a yawning archway buried in a mountainside. Thrushpaw gasped despite herself. ”We’re going underground?” After a small eternity spent on the moor, the idea of having something over her head again came as a relief. Mossbloom began to explain, then paused. Thrushpaw regarded her steadily in turn, head tilted. Do you still get nervous about talking to StarClan? Does Daisybloom? All things she wanted to know—but nothing she needed to. The sky already looked so dark… ”Not really,” she said, and Mossbloom continued.

Despite the tunnel’s twists and darkness deeper than the forest itself, Mossbloom’s paws moved with a certainty that reminded Thrushpaw of her mentor leading her around ThunderClan’s borders. They rounded a turn; a hint of a silvery glow greeted them. Moments later, they were face-to-face with the Moonstone itself. Thrushpaw could have stared at it until the sun rose—but she saw Mossbloom’s nod out of the corner of her eye, and dragged her paws forward until she could feel the solid stone against the tips of her whiskers. There were no intricate patterns to trace on its icy surface. What awaited her was pure moonlight, radiating from within. She pressed her nose to it, firm against its chill, and the world slipped away.

An oversized tom with a sour-look writ across his feature sat before the young Thunderclanner. He tried to pull a more stoic expression rather quickly. With a blank maw and judgmental gaze, Eaglefang of Thunderclan looked over the she-cat. In his life, he had been the epitome of strength for his clan. Despite the fact that he was nearly as bull-headed as the mother and father that had sired him, the warrior managed to devote himself to being as strong of a brute as he could. Perhaps that was why he now stood before the future of the clan, family of his that still walked through the forest below. Not once had he sat in the afterlife and desired to pass along what minuscule amounts of wisdom he possessed. Yet something had drawn him to this moonstone, maybe the connection between them or boredom that wracked his paws of unfinished business.

"So, you're Thrushpaw, huh?" When he finally spoke, his eyes held a certain amount of steel beneath them. Eaglefang, whose mostly scarless pelt bore the lack of physical battle experience he had under his paws, stared at the she-cat. He had no idea of what to say next, or even a direction of the supposed wisdom that was supposed to be presented at this moment. So for now, the star-studded tabby simply waited for a response from the she-cat.

Thrushpaw had grown up hearing about both sides of the stars. Boundless wisdom, boundless cruelty. As a kit, she’d wondered if there were two StarClans crammed into the same Silverpelt; that seemed like the only way to justify all of the contrasting stories she’d been told. She knew better now. The stars her parents talked about were the same ones that had made Nettlestar leader and winked down at her when she left camp after sunset. So, when she opened her eyes to see a broad, muscular, star-dappled tom sitting before her, she approached him the way she would any other stranger: with cautious curiosity, sitting up straight as she looked him over, wide-eyed. The tom’s scent was vaguely ThunderClan-ish, and he looked like a warrior in every sense of the word. His golden eyes were fierce, sharp, brighter than starlight. At last, he spoke. He knew her name. That sent a new storm of questions spiraling through her head. How much of her life had he seen? How much did he know? “And Mermurr,” she replied, because she was both. “Who are you?”

As the initial rush of awe subsided, Thrushpaw surveyed him the way one might survey a patrol from across the border. “We’re…supposed to get advice from you, right? That’s what I’ve heard.” She pressed her forepaws together. ”If we get to choose, I…” She’d never said it aloud. The birds and squirrels didn’t know; neither did her family, who, up until the dogs, had known everything. But what happened at the Moonstone was secret and sacred, and this warrior of a tom who smelled of stars and brisk forest alike seemed no less trustworthy than any other. Thrushpaw opened her mouth and said, with quiet conviction and quieter doubt, “I want know how to be stronger.” Maybe she didn’t get a choice, but some things were worth asking. If now wasn’t the time, when would be? Her tail twitched near her paws, a single sign of her nerves.

And Mermurr.

A low growl rumbled in his throat but Eaglefang managed to restrain his unpleasant disposition for a mere moment. How could a cat related to his kin have such dirty blood through their veins, and take up a loner name? And to even proudly proclaim it their own. The bulky warrior twitched his tail tip with an obvious agitation. Her maw parted once more, hesitation marking her tongue, before she pleaded with him softly. An appeal was made that caused a flicker of a dark grin across his maw. This was the reason that his paws had lead him here.

The warrior drew himself forward, stretching to his full height as he approached her and caught her gaze. Eaglefang bared his fangs as he held her eyes, "You want to be strong?" At this, the bulky tom began to circle her, some guttural sound rattling his chest in an ominous manner. Finally he snapped, teeth close to her ear, before erupting into a cold snarl, "If you want to be strong! Then you'll have to stop toting around some ridiculous loner name!" There was a clear judgement in his gaze but something deeper, a fire fueled by a genuine passion. He finished his circling and faced Thrushpaw with the most unyielding expression.

This time when he spoke, though the words rang loud and clear with the naturally boisterous rasp that he possessed, the borderline yowling from a moment earlier ceased as he stared into the young she-cat, "If you would like to be strong, abandon the things that hold you back, Thrushpaw. Focus on honing your skills, serving your clan and beating down anything that threatens to hold you back. Like the soft comforts of your foolish father's heritage. It does nothing other than pull you away from your clan. I hope he knows that a title doesn't make him any more of a Thunderclan cat... it would serve you well to think about that yourself."

Realizing the way in which his sides had begun to heave, Eaglefang sank his claws into the starry earth. He didn't take a step back but with how his head lowered to level with her, it made him seem ever so slightly withdrawn, in a sense. A variety of emotions danced underneath the scrutiny. Finally, his tongue twisted once more in a more mild manner, "You have potential. Let that drive you. Don't waste your warriorhood."