Newtpaw's Moonstone Journey

Beechface wearily pulled herself from her nest, doing one last round to check on the wounded before scraping together two bundles of traveling herbs. Leaving the clan for days at a time, especially now, was beyond foolish. Bringing apprentices to the moonstone at all was foolish, and Beechface thought it more pointless than ever. She'd been ordered to do this, and had argued against it. The clan needed her in camp, not shepherding an apprentice across the territory. And she didn't want to spend time with Newtpaw, either. She was sure he must feel the same.

Stalking from the den, Beechface glared up at the still-dark sky, reluctantly making her way to the apprentice's den. Poking her head inside, she found Newtpaw's mottled form, and gave him a rough prod with one heavy forepaw. "Get moving. Eat these." She didn't bother with anything more than that, simply set one of the herb bundles in front of him once he'd exited the den, then ate her own portion.

It would take a bit for the herbs to kick in, but she doubted they would truly relieve her of her exhaustion. Her wounds from the battle were only half-healed, and she refused to waste herbs on herself any more than necessary. When she wasn't hovering over Wrenspring and Foxfire and tending to the other injured, or making sure Smokefeather and Wolfstar actually ate, she was out gathering herbs. When she wasn't doing that, she'd hunt, working to fill in where she could for the many cats still too injured to do so. She hadn't been sleeping well, and it manifested in the medicine cat being short and snappy, more so than usual. Maybe Newtpaw would recognize that and not make this journey more painful than it would already be.

Sleep hadn't been coming to Newtpaw easily, no matter how often he tried to hide away and will himself into unconsciousness. It left him exhausted and more than a little moody, so when Beechface entered the den and gave a harsh shove to his ribs, it was all he could do not to whip around and bite down on her paw. He just set his jaw tight, listening to his teeth creak, and she left as quickly as she came.

It would be so easy to stay in his nest, ignore her summons entirely, but he didn't need his tail chewed off. Besides, he'd be a warrior soon, and he could ignore her as much as he wanted. A little voice pinged in the back of his mind telling him he should have been doing this with one of his siblings, but he shook the thought away as quickly as it came and heaved himself to his paws.

Stalking out of the den, Newtpaw immediately gave the medicine cat a heated glare, tail already lashing. "Always so charmin'." He huffed, eyes narrowing. Would it kill her to be decent at least once in her life? She sure acted like it. Crouching down, he gave the herbs a sniff, nose wrinkling at the smell, and swallowed them as quickly as he could. "Stars, Beech, those're awful. You're tryin' to kill me, aren't ya?" His groan was bitter and tired, but he gave the medicine cat a crooked, half-hearted smile to compensate.

Grin falling as quickly as it came, Newtpaw sighed and looked towards the mouth of camp. "Well.. I'm movin', so c'mon. Can we go ahead 'n' get this over with?" The sooner, the better. He didn't want to be around her anymore than he had to.

Beechface ignored the heated glare, she was used to it, and as far as she cared, Newtpaw's opinion of her meant little. He grumbled at the taste, as most apprentices did, and her lips twitched into the barest semblance of a smirk. "You get used to them, I hardly notice the taste now." Beechface shrugged, turning to lead Newtpaw out of camp. Her tail drooped and her head hung with the weight of her exhaustion, though she managed an irritable tail flick as the apprentice spoke.

"Which of us wants to be here less, do you think?" She countered dryly. "I have plenty of things I should be doing instead, these journies are a waste of time for both of us." Starclan could communicate to cats who slept in their nests just fine, Beechface saw very little reason for the need to drag an apprentice across the territory just for them. Still, she reluctantly followed the path set before her, wishing she could do anything else as her paws came to a stop at the creek. She'd stop just long enough for Newtpaw to get a few sips of water to clear the taste of the herbs from his mouth, then she'd start moving at a brisk pace towards the thunderpath. With the river being overrun by twolegs, and Riverclan having aided Windclan, Beechface wanted no part of that side of the forest.

"At least we agree on somethin'," Newtpaw grumbled, steps slow and heavy as he trailed behind her. Silence grew between them, and for a while he let it. He was grateful for their stop at the stream (though not so grateful for his now-dripping chin), and he thought about muttering some snarky thanks, but just as quickly realized it'd been the first kindness she'd shown him. And it was probably just habit, anyway.

He picked up his pace to an easy trot, suddenly aware of how much he'd grown since he no longer had to run to chase Beechface around, letting the silence drag. And drag. And drag. The Thunderpath came into view, and he couldn't even be blessed with the roaring of a monster; the smell was terrible, and he would've guessed there'd been one recently, but for now it was quiet, allowing the pair to cross with ease. Of course it was quiet now.

Stars, he was sick of this! He couldn't stand long awkward pauses like this, no matter how grumpy he was. "Beech, is StarClan even real?" Newtpaw chirped suddenly, taking a few quickened steps so he could walk right alongside her, turning his head to look towards her as they walked. "Like, I'm not really gonna see anythin', am I? Are we really goin' all this way to take a nap in some cave?" It was stupid, and at least she thought it was, too. He snorted a life, going on, "You're our medicine cat, ya know. Aren't ya s'pposed to be, like, enthusiastic about the stars or somethin'? You're not makin' me love the idea." His mew was light and playful, still rough with the edges of sleep, but he was slowly waking up, and he was at least going to make this trip interesting if he had to put up with it. He was decidedly done with sulking: no amount of laying around whining was going to bring his sister back, so he would do what he did best and be bright and loud and pretend not a thing bothered him.

The pair walked in silence that Beechface was fine with not breaking. Most days she had little desire to talk to her half-siblings, and today she'd had little desire to talk with anyone, really.

Of course Newtpaw would have to break the silence. Beechface twitched an ear in his direction at the question, tail flicking.

"They're real, not that they do much good." There was a distinct note of bitterness in Beechface's tone as she answered him, her tail twitching back and forth as they followed the acrid line of the thunderpath past Thunderclan and Shadowclan territory. There were no monsters when the pair of cats finally did cross the thunderpath that separated Windclan territory from where highstones began, she sighed. No monsters was a rarity at this time of day, but a welcome one. Beechface had never liked crossing them, and she liked the strange monsters that roared past without a care even less. The thunderpath made her fur stand on end and her heartbeat pick up each time she neared it.

"They exist to preach and judge. They're cryptic, and will never help when it matters despite having the power to do so." She continued, tone flat. "I never wanted to be a medicine cat, and I'm unconvinced that Starclan didn't do it so they could laugh at Skyclan's suffering." She shrugged. The ground beneath their paws grew rougher as they began the trek up highstones. The sun was low in the sky, but they had a little ways to go still before reaching mothermouth at sunset.

Newtpaw watched as the land around them changed, already sorely missing SkyClan's own rocky forest. The territory inbetween felt so... open, save for the thin trees near ThunderClan's border. It reminded him too much of WindClan's own open, ugly moors, and he was grateful when the soft earth turned sharp and hard again.

"StarClan's never done anything for me." He snorted, amber eyes occassionally flicking over to Beechface as they began their ascent. A few rocks slipped loose and skittered downward, and he craned his neck to watch them tumble. "Highstones sucks. I can't believe ya gotta drag yourself all the way out here 'n' climb up these stupid stones all the time. Don't ya get tired? Can't ya just... not go?" A pause, twitch of his ear, then, "If you don't wanna be, then why're ya a medicine cat? I thought they were supposed to, like, choose it or somethin'." He sounded generally curious, taking a daring leap up the rocks to match Beechface's more experienced steps as he spoke. "I mean, if ya don't like it, and ya don't like StarClan, it seems like a waste'a time." He stopped again, claws flexing to steady himself as the shale slipped away once more. He'd never forgive himself if he made himself look like a fool in front of her. "For what it's worth... I don't think I like StarClan much either. I mean," and just like that, Newtpaw was talking, his mouth running away before he could stop it: "They want the best for us, 'n' they put me in a Clan that don't like me 'n' killed my sister when I went t'war to fight for m'family. That ain't fair. It ain't–" He tilted his head skyward. The deep oranges had given way to dusty purple, and the sun was all but out of sight. Soon, the stars would appear, and Newtpaw bitterly realized he wanted nothing to do with them. "It ain't right, Beech. This whole charade is just stupid. Can't we just sit here 'n' I'll lie 'n' say I saw someone cool?"

"They can speak to us when we're in our nest. They did it when the Asylum kept us prisoner in our own territory, they did it at the last half-moon. Could save everybody a lot of hassle if they kept that up, but that would make sense, so it'll never happen." Beechface snorted, "I was Wolfstar's apprentice when he was still deputy. Sagelight, the medicine cat at the time... His apprentice had gone missing shortly before I was born, I think? And he had a dream about a stars-forsaken tree. I resisted, of course. He was a senile old fool to consider me when all I wanted was to be the best warrior the clan had ever seen, like Wolfcall, like dad-" Beechface cut herself off abruptly with a sharp inhale, turning to stare up at the setting sun while her tail lashed back and forth. She'd looked up to both of them once, and the Asylum had changed everything. Wolfstar at least was trying, she could see that now. Bloodstrike though... Beechface didn't recognize him. He wasn't the warrior she had looked up to and respected. Maybe he'd never been and Asylum's cruelty had just revealed his true colors. It was easy to cling to that thought, easy to cling to her anger and resentment. She'd been doing that for moons already, hadn't she? It was easier than trying to untangle the knot in her chest.

And where exactly, had that gotten her? She avoided him, had clung fiercely to that anger when he'd tried to speak to her on the way back to camp from the battle. She'd wound up crying, and had shut him down the only way she knew how. There'd been a time where she'd lived for that praise and... and...

A memory surfaced, of the night after Sagelight had been buried. She'd clung to anger then too, laying the blame for her mentor's death at the paws of the warriors who had been on patrol with him to scout their ruined camp.

Wolfstar's criticisms hadn't been unwarranted, that day he'd saved her from breaking her neck when she'd slipped.

Beechface had fallen silent, hardly hearing the rest of whatever Newtpaw had said as her mind whirled. Mothermouth was before her, and Beechface blinked, remembering that she wasn't alone.

"Let's... Get this over with. Stay close, touch your nose to the glowing rock when we get there." She managed in a strangled tone. She ducked into the tunnel, leading Newtpaw towards the moonstone. She stepped aside as they reached the brilliantly lit rock, the moon visible through a hole in the roof. Newtpaw would do as she instructed, and he'd be out for a while... Leaving her alone with her thoughts. Wonderful, just wonderful.

Beechface fell silent again as they reached the mouth of the cave, and for once, Newtpaw decided not to push it. He had plenty to think on, though: she had once been a warrior apprentice– had been their grandfather's apprentice, specifically –before she got dragged to the medicine den, had wanted to be the best warrior ever... just like him. He hesitated, staring into the dark cavern, giving her one last look before she disappeared from sight. Taking in a deep breath, he followed into the tunnel.

For all her sharp edges, they had a lot in common. A surprising amount, really. It was all he could think about as they descended, his mind racing. He'd warmed up to Lichenblaze, considered him a brother the same way Spottedfrog and Bearpaw were his sisters, but Beechface... She'd never been family to him, not really. She was the grouchy old cat that never bothered to hide the way she glared at their father, never quieted her dislike of his latest kits. And yet... and yet, here they were, going on about how StarClan seemed so pointless and how bitter they were. He swallowed hard, feeling cold.

Soon enough, the Moonstone came into view, and Newtpaw couldn't lie and say he wasn't impressed by the way it glittered with light. But he wanted this done as badly as she did, so he wasted no time in settling next to it. "Uh... g'night, I guess." He murmured before roughly pressing his nose to the rock, feeling like he'd been dunked in frigid water before being pulled into sleep.


When he opened his eyes, Newtpaw hoped he'd see himself back in camp, where he was supposed to be. Maybe Beechface dragged him home, maybe it had all been some weird dream, but that was too much to ask: he was sitting under a tree, its broad, pointed leaves swaying gently with the breeze. The sky was pale, dotted with stars and impossibly bright with no sun in sight. But... where was he? Everything around him looked like it glittered, the way the territory looked early in the morning before the dew burned off. He couldn't actually be in StarClan, right? There was really no way he was here to listen to some dead cat give him life lessons. What irony. Snorting, he flopped down on his side, resting his cheek against the warm grass and closing his eyes. Maybe they wouldn't bother him if he could sleep here, too, and he could just move on with his life.

Maplepaw stepped out of the mist, looking more rejuvenated than she had for the past few moons- her face soft and fluffy, her amber eyes large and twinkling. She had a soft smile on her face, atypical for her, gentle and kind as she silently made her way to her little brother’s side. Gently, gently, as if she was attempting to scare him, the brown molly poked at his flank, her smile widening. She hasn’t seen him in forever, it felt like, his mottled pelt and indignant expression all the more precious to her as it had been when she was alive. Stars, had she missed him, in all of his dramatic glory. Her little solider.

”Wake up, Mouse-for-brains. You’re supposed to be excited, remember? Don’t you want to talk to your big sis?”

Couldn't anybody just leave a cat alone these days?

The sound of approaching pawsteps made Newtpaw grimace, and he quietly prayed they would go away, but there was a paw nudging at his side. Letting out a heavy sigh, too world-weary for a cat his age, he opened his mouth to snap something at whoever had come to disturb him, but a familiar voice sapped all hostility from him.

Suddenly fully alert, his eyes snapped open and he scrambled to sit upright, staring at the cat before him with wide eyes. It wasn't... it couldn't be– "Maplepaw?" He croaked, looking over every inch of her. "This isn't– you're dead! You're dead, an' I saw you, an'– y'had half your head missin'!" Newtpaw was standing now, circling her slowly. There was no way StarClan was nice enough to bless him with seeing his sister one more time: Beechface had said herself they were cruel to SkyClan. But which sister did he believe more– the one he'd been born with, loved fiercely every moment of his life, or the one he'd only just decided he liked?

"It– it ain't you. It can't be. I saw 'em drag you away. This is a real cruel joke." Angry, tired, hurting, he fixed the apparition in a hard stare that lacked any of the spite in his voice.